Peer pressured

Baelog didn’t hesitate for a single second. A wicked, gap-toothed grin split his beard as he slammed his heavy iron tankard against the wooden crate with a rhythmic *CRACK*, instantly setting a beat.

“Oh, the Prince in the dark keeps his breeches tight!” Baelog roared, his booming voice echoing off the humid bulkheads. “He loves to watch, but he fears the fight!”

The crew didn’t need an invitation. Within two seconds, six rowdy sailors started stomping their boots against the deck planks in time with Baelog’s tankard, slamming their mugs together and joining the chorus at the top of their lungs:

“He sips his wine while the green wood swings!
A timid little lord in the King’s own rings!
Won’t show his gold, won’t drop his pants,
Just hides in the corner to watch us dance!”

The hold vibrated with the thunderous stomping and roaring laughter. Uthul leaned back against her crate, her bare green shoulders shaking with a deep, rumbling chuckle as she tracked me with those gleaming golden eyes, fanning her hand of cards like a queen on a throne.

My face burned hotter than the lantern fire. Standing there in the dark with my throat bone-dry{if game:bicurious >= 75}, my cock throbbing fiercely against my trousers{endif} and my heart hammering against my ribs, I knew I was trapped. If I stayed in the dark, I’d be the laughingstock of the ship for the rest of the voyage...

{if game:Bicurious < 75}Then again, did I really want to risk... I glanced towards Uthul’s cock as I gulped... this?{else}I could feel the temptation quickly rising within me, but even so... was I really ready to risk letting Uthul have her way with me in front of half a dozen sailors? For the short time that I had known her, I had learned that she was quite the character and definitely not a shy one so I knew I had to keep that in mind!{endif}

My royal tutors had prepared me for assassins, court intrigue, and dragon fire, but had somehow left ‘how to politely decline strip poker against a bare-waisted orc’ completely off the syllabus. If I stepped up, I risked losing my trousers to a woman currently using her own anatomy as a card-table paperweight. If I turned tail, I’d be officially crowned ‘His Royal Softness’ until we hit landfall. Brilliant options all around...

{if game:Bicurious >= 75}To make matters worse, Uthul’s golden eyes dropped below my waistline, her grin turning outright predatory.

“Well, well,” she boomed over the shanty, pointing a thick green finger at the very obvious bulge in my breeches. “Looks like His Royal Highness brought his own weapon to the table! Come on now, don’t be shy, we’re all friends here!”

The crew erupted into absolute hysteria, destroying any hope of a subtle retreat. My dignity was officially dead... welp, it was time to play!{endif}