At her cabin

The heavy oak door of Uthul’s cabin swung shut with a muffled thud, finally cutting off the distant roar of laughter and stomping boots from the hold.

The silence inside was thick, broken only by the gentle creak of the ship’s timbers and the sound of our uneven breathing. A single brass lantern swung lazily from a ceiling beam, casting warm, dancing shadows across the cramped quarters - a sturdy oak desk, a sea chest, and a surprisingly large, fur-draped bunk tucked into the corner.

With effortless grace, Uthul shifted her grip and let me slide slowly down her big-breasted chest until my bare feet hit the cool floorboards. The friction of my rigid, aching cock dragging down her warm green skin made my knees nearly buckle before I even found my footing.

She didn’t step back. Instead, she kicked the heavy iron bolt into place on the door, trapping us inside, and leaned back against the wood, crossing her thick arms over her chest. Her golden eyes gleamed in the dim lantern light as they raked slowly over my naked, flushed frame.

“Well, little prince,” Uthul purred, her deep voice vibrating straight through the floorboards into the soles of my feet. “The audience is gone. Though I imagine Baelog is already taking bets on how loud you’re going to be. *If you scream half as loud as you did back in my camp, he's going to lose a fortune.*”

I swallowed hard, a fresh wave of heat rushing up my neck both at the thought of the entire crew downstairs knowing exactly why she had hauled me up here, and the sudden, vivid memory of my wrists bound in her tent, the smell of woodsmoke and sweat, and how thoroughly, explosively she had ruined me before.

{if game:Bicurious >= 75}“I... I am a prince of Beornia,” I stammered, backing up half a step until the edge of her bunk caught the back of my thighs, a completely theatrical retreat that fooled neither of us.“What happened in your camp was... was duress! You can’t seriously expect me to just... surrender to some... some orc all over again!”

My voice cracked on the last word, ruined entirely by the way my hips twitched forward of their own accord and the undeniable, throbbing heat radiating from between my legs. Uthul let out a dark, knowing laugh, taking two slow, predatory strides forward, her own massive length standing proud and heavy in the lantern light.

“Duress?” she purred, her tusked grin widening as she closed the distance between us. “Funny, I remember you having a surprisingly fun time!”

The moment her broad hands gripped my waist and pinned me down onto the furs, all pretense of royal resistance evaporated into a breathless, eager gasp.{else}“I... I am a prince of Beornia,” I stammered, backing up until the edge of her bunk pressed firmly against the back of my thighs, trapping me. “A wager is a wager, Uthul, and I will honor my debt at the card table... if you would kindly return my trousers first.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, desperately trying to project an air of dignified, reluctant composure even as my cock pulsed traitorously in the warm air of the cabin. Uthul let out a low, rumbling chuckle that made my stomach flip, taking two slow, heavy steps until she was towering right over me.

“Oh, little prince,” she murmured, her thick fingers catching my chin and tilting my face up to meet her burning golden gaze. “You didn’t need cards to lose your mind under me back in my camp, and we both know the cards aren’t coming out tonight.”{endif}