Sneak down to the kitchens.

You wander through the dimly-lit courtyard of Skyhold late at night, the cool night air doing little to shrink the giant cock swinging freely between your legs with each lumbering step. The moon hung high in the sky above your depraved fortress, casting a pale blue glow over the empty marketplace as you sneak through carefully.

Tomorrow, bright and early, you and your companions depart for the grand ball at Empress Celene's Winter Palace but before you can retire to your bed for the night, you have one final piece of business to attend to in the Skyhold kitchens.

Passing the stables along the way, you hear the unmistakable sounds of moaning and grunting from within. Peeking inside, you see Blackwall, the grizzled Warden, in the throes of passion with one of the tavern's barmaids. You chuckle to yourself, the woman's legs wrapped around Blackwall's waist, her tits bouncing and back arching with pleasure as the bearded man repeatedly drives his massive cock deep inside her. It's a testament to the Warden's sexual prowess the number of woman who've treated the sticky, hay-covered floors of his stables like the honeymoon suite of The Gilded Horn.

Finally reaching the kitchens, you slip through the door silently like a cat. A fat, lazy and horny cat. But a cat, nevertheless.

You find the room empty as expected, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the bubbling of a large pot of Halla stew simmering softly on the stone hearth. You approach the pot, a wide grin spreading across your greasy face as you raise the weighted lid and let the heady aroma of meat and spices fill your nostrils. Reaching for a nearby spoon, you dip the utensil into the bubbling broth, giving it a few cautious blows to cool it down before tasting the hearty concoction for yourself.

"Mmmm, not bad at all." you smack your lips, admiring the depth of savory flavors as they your tongue.

You really have to commend Cabot, the Herald Rest's chef, for his culinary skills. The grumpy dwarf's talent for turning low-grade ingredients into rather palatable meals for your soldiers made him quite the valuable asset to your Inquisition. The dwarf's recipe for Halla stew is a mainstay of the Herald's Rest menu, a meal that will be enjoyed by almost all your subjects in Skyhold for the next few weeks. Which makes it the perfect candidate for what you're about to do next...

"But it's missing something." you smirk, reaching down and gripping your cock firmly. "A certain special ingredient."

Yes, that's right. For months, you've been secretly cumming in the people of Skyhold's food. A depraved act, to be sure, but an altruistic one.

While the true depths of the Blowjob Throne's power are still a mystery to you, you've long observed that the woman who swallow your holy essence are invigorated by it. Seeker Cassandra's training sessions last almost twice as long with a belly full of your warm spunk while many of Dagna's biggest scientific breakthroughs were made after sampling your hot seed. Even Morrigan, supposedly resistant to your magic, has grown loyal on a steady diet on your ball-porridge.

Can someone who claims to be the Herald of Andraste really ignore such a gift? To be more than just the leader of Skyhold, to be it's wellspring of life, a flowing river of vitality unto it's people. The mana that churns in your Maker-blessed balls is the very lifeblood of the Inquisition and you have a duty, nay, a divine responsibility to share it. It is for this simple reason, your selfless love of your followers, that you sneak down to the kitchens once a week and drop a load into their food.

And so, with a wicked gleam in your eye, you reach down and begin to stroke your massive cock over the pot of Halla stew. While you'd love nothing more than to cum in every person's food personally, this is a far more efficient use of your time.

"Halla ala Herald, coming right up..." you snicker to yourself, giving your cock a few, slow deliberate tugs to start.

Your cock grows quickly in your hands, the mere thought of your subjects lining up for their piping hot bowl of Halla stew, unknowingly consuming your spunk is enough to get you to full mast as you begin to furiously beat your meat over the pot.

You close your eyes tight, your mind flashing back to the first time you attempted this perverse act. You vividly recall the faces of your soldiers tasting their tainted stew for the first time, their faces lighting with delight at the unexpected taste. Your cock twitching at every person who went back for seconds. Nearly getting caught when Ser Ruth pulled one of your "short and curlies" from her bowl before she casually shrugged it off and started licking her bowl completely spotless.

Sweat forms on your brow as you work yourself into a frenzy, the heat from the hearth only adding to your intense arousal as you stroke yourself harder and faster, your heavy balls slapping your thighs as you do. Sensing your impending release, you widen your stance, bracing your hand against the hearth as you hunch over the pot of stew and let loose.

With a guttural grunt, you reach your climax, the first blast of warm seed launching from the tip of your twitching cock and landing in the pot below. Even by your own lofty standards, the load is quite prodigious as rope after rope of pearly white spunk splashes the stew's surface, simmering at the top and adding it's salty tang to the savory broth.

"That should keep the sheep loyal while I'm gone..." you smirk, wringing the last drops of cum from your now spent cock. You wipe the sweat from your brow, most of it also landing in the stew but you've already tainted it beyond belief so it's just more Inquisitor flavor.

You reach for your spoon, stirring your milky-white man gravy into the hearty stew until the evidence of your act is gone.

You take a moment catch your breath, looking down at the pot with a perverted sense of pride. The stew is no longer just a hearty meal but a potent elixir filled to the brim with your essence. You can rest easy knowing that you can leave Skyhold for the Winter Palace tomorrow and your subjects will remain loyal and it's all thanks to the Blowjob Throne.

"Hmm, we might be gone longer than a week though..." you consider, stroking your hairy chin. "Better make it a double!"

You cast a quick replenishment spell on your balls, feeling that familiar tingle as they swell back to their original fullness.

Your hand is a blur as you start furiously beating your cock over the stew again. Before you can find your rhythm though, you suddenly hear a loud commotion coming from the kitchen's pantry. You have no time to react before the pantry door swings open and you see a figure standing in the doorway. You're caught in the act!