A dwarf (10)

And so it began!

Under Agnes’s watchful eyes, five pairs of hands began the test.

I gritted my teeth, every muscle in my body locking tight as I desperately fought to hold back the tide that quickly started to rise. The heavy Stonetalon ale had thoroughly clouded my judgment, amplifying the raw, throbbing ache between my thighs until every second of restraint felt like pure agony. Around me, the brawny dwarves stood like solid stone - seasoned, hardened, and completely unbothered by the heavy drink -while my own royal discipline rapidly dissolved in the sweltering heat of the chamber.

“Look at the lad, he’s shaking like a leaf in a gale!”, one of the dwarves bellowed, pointing a thick finger at me with a booming laugh.
“Aye, royal blood can’t handle a proper dwarven forge!”, another grunted, leaning in close to jeer. “Hold it in, your highness, or you’ll be drinking our brew before the night is out!”

The rhythmic chanting of the dwarves grew louder, vibrating through the floorboards and deep into my chest. Every time my eyes flicked toward the head of the table, meeting Agnes’s flushed, expectant gaze, my pulse hammered wildly against my ribs, pushing me closer and closer to the absolute brink. Sweat rolled down my brow as the internal pressure reached a fever pitch, and I felt myself right on the edge of breaking.

Leaning forward over the table, Agnes locked her eyes onto mine, a warm, fiercely encouraging smile breaking across her flushed face.

“You can do it, my prince!” she called out over the boisterous roaring, her voice filled with absolute faith. “Show them what royalty is made of! I know you can hold out longer than any of them!”

Hearing her cheer for me, hearing the absolute belief in her voice, sent a devastating surge of adrenaline straight to my core. Instead of breaking me, her support acted as an anchor, giving me a sudden, **** burst of focus that steadied my trembling knees.

The dwarf standing opposite me caught a glimpse of Agnes as she leaned forward, her presence suddenly commanding the space between us. Playfully, she trailed a hand across her voluptuous breasts as she looked at him, bending over so her breasts threatened to escape. It was enough to break his concentration. He wavered, his gaze lingering on her for a fraction of a second too long, and that momentary lapse was all it took for his resolve to crumble. With a sharp, guttural groan, his own control fractured down the middle, his body jerking helplessly as he became the first to break, filling the central mug to a chorus of mock groans and booming laughter from his compatriots.

One by one, the rest of us finally let go, contributing until the mug was semi-full of thick, white seed.

The defeated dwarf was true to his honour. The mug was emptied, the dwarves cheered, and Agnes and I were soon on our way out of the room...

As we walked through the silent corridors, I spoke up.

“Thank you, Agnes! If it wasn’t for you, I’d be...”
“I know, my prince! Did you think I’d let you drink a mug of dwarf cum? Who are we, Dalaran? No! These dwarves brought it on themselves anyway.”