Spent the morning in the lower dungeons, such a delightful way to start the day. There's a particular art to the sound a man makes when he finally breaks, a wet, guttural sob that's far more satisfying than any harvest. My cock was so hard listening to it, pressed against the cold stone as I watched. I think I'll take a walk through the peasant village this afternoon, see if any of the 'inferior' stock catches my eye for a more... public display. There's nothing quite like bending some filthy commoner over a hay bale and fucking their tight cunt raw while their neighbors watch, too terrified to even whimper. My pussy gets so wet just thinking about their silent, tear-streaked faces. True power isn't just magic, it's the freedom to use any hole you please, anywhere you want.