Paying my card debt

The brass lantern swayed with the hull’s slow roll, throwing warm, restless shadows across the cramped cabin as Uthul closed the last inch between us. She smelled of sea salt, grog, and hot green skin.

{if game:Bicurious >= 75}Pinned under her, I still managed a token squirm, but it was pure theatre. My heart hammered like it was trying to escape, and when her massive frame blotted out the light I sighed like a man already defeated and trying to look dignified about it.

“Look at you,” she purred against my chest. “All that royal breeding, and your body still knows exactly who owns it.”

Her mouth dragged lower, tusks grazing, tongue swirling over a nipple until I arched with a helpless little noise I immediately tried to turn into a protest. My thighs, traitors that they were, fell open wider. Her big hand wrapped around my aching cock and stroked the slick head with filthy precision while I lifted my hips into it, still muttering half-hearted objections that fooled no one.

Then she folded me up like luggage, spread me open, and dragged the flat of her tongue over my hole in one long, wet stripe. I gasped, hips jerking up to meet her mouth even as the words “this is still highly improper” left me in a shaky, unconvincing whisper. She just chuckled and pushed her tongue inside, thick and relentless, licking me open while I clutched the furs and tilted my ass higher like the helpful little prince I apparently was.

“No holding back tonight,” she growled, lips shiny. “Let’s make sure Baelog loses every coin.”

Before I could invent another protest she sat back against the bunk’s headboard, hauled me into her lap facing her, and lined that massive cock up towards my ass. I sank down onto it at my own (very eager) pace, still trying to sound scandalized.

“This is... ah... entirely beneath my station...”

The thick head stretched me open with slow, burning insistence. I kept sinking, thighs trembling, until I was fully seated and stuffed so completely my breath left me in a shocked little rush. I clenched hard around the heat pulsing inside me, eyes wide like I couldn’t believe what I’d just done… then immediately lifted and dropped again, chasing more of that brutal fullness. Weak royal objections kept spilling out between needy little sounds (“Highly inappropriate…! Completely improper…!”), while my hips rolled and bounced of their own accord, taking her deeper every time I came back down.

Uthul’s big hands settled on my waist and guided the pace without ever truly forcing it, letting me ruin myself on her cock while she watched with open amusement. The slap of skin, the wet stretch, the way she filled me past sense... it all built too fast! My protests dissolved into broken gasps. I slammed down harder, chasing the edge, and came with a choked, undignified cry, spilling hot across her stomach while I clenched and shook around her. She followed a moment later with a low, guttural growl, burying herself to the hilt and flooding me deep, holding me there until every last pulse faded and I was left panting, sticky, and thoroughly claimed.

{else}

Uthul’s hands hit my shoulders and shoved me down onto the bunk like I weighed nothing. I tried to sit back up; she simply leaned harder until my knees hit the frame and I stayed put.

She crowded between my thighs, cock heavy and flushed and very much in my personal space. I pressed both hands to her chest in a last, genuine attempt at distance. She caught my wrists in one fist, pinned them above my head, and guided my other hand down until my palm was forced around the thick, velvet heat of her length.

“Stop fighting yourself, Your Highness,” she murmured against my ear, rolling her hips so that massive cock dragged over my trapped fingers and my own leaking shaft. “Your mouth says no, but everything else is already begging.”

Before I could argue she hooked my ankles, folded me nearly in half, and dropped her head between my legs. The first broad, wet stroke of her tongue over my hole tore a shocked sound out of me. I twisted, tried to close my thighs, but her hands held me open without effort while she licked me thoroughly, circling, pressing, fucking her tongue deep until my reluctant body started yielding anyway. My cock twitched and dripped onto my stomach with every filthy wet sound, the pleasure making the total loss of control even more humiliating.

When she finally lifted her head, tusks gleaming, her golden eyes were pure dominance.

“There,” she growled. “Now you’re ready.”

She stayed right between my legs, forced my knees higher against my chest, and pushed that thick cock into me while locking brutal eye contact. The stretch was slow, relentless, impossible to ignore. Every time I tried to turn my face away or close my thighs she adjusted her grip, held me open wider, and sank deeper, inch by thick inch, until I was forced to feel every ridge and every fresh loss of control. My protests came out broken and breathless; she just kept watching my face as she bottomed out and stayed there, grinding deep enough that I couldn’t pretend this wasn’t happening.

Then she started moving in earnest. She made long, powerful thrusts that drove the air from my lungs and the last scraps of resistance from my body. I twisted, gasped, tried one final time to look away; she simply pinned my wrists harder and fucked me through it, relentless and deep. The pressure built until it snapped. I came with a helpless, bitten-off cry, cock untouched, spilling across my own stomach while she kept driving into me. Only when I was shaking and oversensitive did she bury herself to the root and finish with a low, satisfied growl, flooding me in thick, pulsing waves while her golden eyes never left mine.{endif}