FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Say it," the petit creature whispered, his voice barely bouncing off the tall shelves, each one crammed full of books on so many varied subjects, it would take an entire new book just to list them all. But the young orc wasn't interested in these fountains of knowledge around him. Here, on his own private table, in this room safely tucked away within the library, his only concern was the nervous mouse librarian sitting on his lap, eyes occasionally diverting to the door.

"Your Highness-

"No, no," a single thin finger reached his lips, and the librarian's breathing stopped, his fur starting to stand on edge. The young orc grinned, his half feline instincts coming to the surface as his prey's slight trembling started to excite him, and the slender fingers reached for the golden crown resting on his towering blue hair, removing it without much concern and leaving it on the table. Not even once did his eyes split from the other man, too focused on the way his short brown fur ruffled beneath his robes. "We talked about this before, didn't we?"

"...Prolly," there it was. And it was more than enough to make the young prince bite his lower lip in excitement, and let his hands wander down his companion's shoulders and arms, caressing his back as he slowly approached the wide hips, the prominent thighs and the delectably enormous ass that his modest bulge currently ground against. A single grope was all it took for a surprised yelp to leave the librarian, prompting a chuckle out of the royal.

"Have I ever mentioned how much I love hearing you squeak?" and this time, his second arm landed on the mouse's ass with a loud smack that reverberated across the room, almost drowning out the sharp moan that left his lips. A single look over his shoulder was all Prolly needed to watch those gigantic cheeks shake from the force, and he felt his loins stir at the sight. "Now... tell your prince how badly you want him to fill you up."

The mouse swallowed, his shoulders slouching, but the spark behind his eyes clear as day. His lips parted as if they were trying to push the words out, but they never came out. It was ok; his hands did more than a great job of expressing his desires, undoing the orc's shirt, exposing the slender, firm chest beneath and pushing his fingers to rub, feel that short gray fur, relish in the soft sensation until he found the flesh beneath, the tips of his fingers sinking in, pushing a gentle purr out of the half-orc. It was the last straw; it was the one thing about his price's charm that he needed to see to lean down, the distance between their lips slowly reducing, his heart racing faster with each grope his ass received.

Until a loud slam made them turn towards the door, and their eyes widened together in absolute shock. Standing on the door was a massive behemoth of muscle, a mountain of sheer masculinity, covered in regal, tight fitting clothes that hugged so perfectly to his shape, they left no doubt to have been personally tailored for him; all of it mostly concealed by a long, flowing red cape that still left enough room to admire the gigantic chest, no skin left visible except for the slightest hint of cleft near his neck, clearly left there on purpose. But most notable of all bas the face, the gray furless skin, tusks jutting out from pursed lips, delectably framed by a bushy, yet carefully cared blue beard, and a stern frown seething with anger and indignation in a way that only added to his authority. Their eyes, however, weren't so drawn to such fierce expression as they were to the balding head, where an exquisitely crafted golden crown rested.

"Your Majesty!" was the librarian's panicked response as he jumped off the hybrid's lap, bowing to the massive figure so profusely, Prolly's eyes couldn't help but being drawn towards his enormous ass being pushed in his direction. And because he had never been known to be discrete, such an action immediately got a loud growl from the behemoth of a man; he could swear the veins along his forehead started to become visible.

"I will deal with you at a later time, young man," despite the calm tone with which he said those words, his voice was powerful enough to make you tremble, deep like a roar from the bowels of Earth itself, and it was certainly more than enough to make the poor mouse tremble as if his life was in peril; for all he cared about, it truly was. "For now, return to your post and make sure your duties are not left unattended again."

A light squeal left the young librarian again as he stood up, quickly scampering away with a quick bow to his king, unable to let his eyes meet with the ruler's own. At that moment, Prolly found himself alone, the one object of attention from the powerful mountain of power in front of him, and his mind started going through the usual routine, while his hands, with motions as natural as possible, reached for his crown to keep him distracted, away from the eyes that scanned the room. No windows in this room, only a multitude of lanterns floating nearby to keep them illuminated; however, if his small size could serve as an advantage, it was here and now. Whether it was slipping through what little cracks were left between the shelves and the roof, shooting a book or two to crack the lanterns and slip past the orc in the darkness, or even squeeze himself through one of the secret entrances he knew about, he had already gone through as many escape routes as he possibly could in a moment, and was determined to not let himself be captured.

"Father-

"Oh no, you don't!" before he could even make the slightest movement, the king's massive hand reached forward and Prolly's face was entirely covered by it, thick fingers holding his head in place as his feet started to rise off the ground. At this point, he was completely aware that escape had been rendered almost impossible, so rather than waste energy thrashing in a desperate attempt to free himself, he let his emotions course freely in the hope that his sweat would act as impromptu lubricant and allow him to literally slip off his father's hold. At this point, it truly was his best chance.

But even in the remote chance that could've worked, his father was quick to derail his plans. With a single swing from his giant arms, he threw the small body upwards, leaving his son to freely float along the lamps for a moment, not even an ounce of fear as he failed to register what was happening until gravity took hold of him, his body falling, headed to the ground, only for his father's shoulder to stop the descent. A short 'uff' was all that left him as the orc king held him in place, his head hanging off his father's back as he was carried outside of the room.

"You really are a fool if you think I will allow you to escape yet again, child," was the swift, stern reply his thoughts received. Again, it made little point to try and struggle out of his father's grasp, yet a childish instinct somewhere in the back of his head told him to try anyway; the constant stares given to him by pretty much everyone in the library may have had something to do with that. "You know, I actually grew worried about you for a moment. Skipping your classes and avoiding your family for two weeks in a row; if I didn't know any better, I would have assumed you had been abducted by an enemy nation or escaped on your own. You've never been big on responsibility, after all."

And there it was again, the hard work speech. Prolly had listened to countless versions of the same story all through his life, and more than once he had tuned it out, just like he did now. Rather than listen to words he knew by heart, he preferred to spend his time trying to slip away, to get as far away from these looks as possible. Maybe even go back to the library and continue his fun times with the nervous mouse boy, or find one of the butlers to spend some extra time with, or even slip through the night and into town, to meet with one of his friends for their usual escapades; it had been a while since he visited that monkey fellow, he might as well give him a visit.

"Prolly, are you even listening to me?" his father's voice, once again calm yet booming, got him out of his thoughts, and the prince took a minute to realize they had reached a hallway, light pouring in through the windows. If he could just break from the powerful arms holding him, he could easily jump out. But before he could say anything, the king continued. "You were thinking about that librarian, or whatever other men you could spend a night with, weren't you? No, don't even bother trying to deny it, child. The erection I feel on my shoulder is more than enough evidence. Now you're thinking about how you could just leap off these windows, are you not?"

"Father, please..." he tried, but knew he would never be able to convince the taller orc. Whether it was due to years of experience or some sort of unnatural ability unique to him, the king had never been one to fall for deception. Yet, eh remained silent and still, waiting for his words, as if he wanted to be proven wrong.

When he only received silence for an answer, the king sighed. Prolly felt his body being held mid-air again until his feet once again met the floor, standing right in front of the window, as if his father was telling him to open it, to escape as he seemingly desired. It almost felt like a dare, and it alone was enough to keep the little orc in place out of shame, even if his father's hands hadn't been resting on his shoulder for good measure. His hold was soft, yet firm, like everything else he remembered about the man.

"Son, what do you see outside this window?"

Well, that was a new one, at least, but it somehow made Prolly even more uncomfortable than his father's usual disappointment. But he looked outside the window anyway, and he saw the same thing he would always see outside his own.

On the other side, far beyond the castle's walls, was their kingdom: a giant, disorderly town full of small and big houses, winding roads and bustling with countless people of so many diverse species, he couldn't even begin to point them out. Despite its bizarre architecture, the town held in place, and everyone, as he knew from his own visits to it, had a smile on their face as they went on with their routines. From where he stood, he could see groups of people gathered in front of tents, coming in and out of multiple stores, some of which he was familiar, even personally acquainted with. And further back, the one thing that set their kingdom apart from others jumped to his eyes, in the same vein the sun did for outsiders: the enormous stone wall, reaching up to the roof of the carved out space they inhabited, deep inside the mountains, lit up by a multitude of lamps and lanterns lining the streets, hanging from houses and stores alike. It was that one thing he looked at every day, and therefore had lost that strange shine it would have to foreigners.

But as his eyes kept going up, none of those lights could even hope to compare to the powerful source that was the mother crystal, buried deep inside the cave's ceiling and shining with such luster that many outsiders stated only the sun itself could shine brighter, and even then, barely. The amount of magic it took to maintain such a powerful source of light working was something that had always astounded the young prince, rousing the intellectual in him, making his feline curiosity boil, and even to this day, that was one thing that made him tremble with excitement and fascination, no matter how many times he looked at it. His father knew; he remembered all the times during his younger days when he would rush to his knees and tell him about the shiny rock in the sky, only to get a hearty laughter out of him. Yes, his father knew...

"You see the same things I do, son," his father's words were soothing enough for him to let go of the half orc, knowing he would stay put as he continued. "You see the kingdom, not for its wealth or its might, but for its people. You think of our subjects, you drive yourself to give them the best quality you can provide. You're small, perverse and far too deceitful for my tastes," Prolly had to wonder if his father knew those words stung. "But I also know you can put your priorities straight, that you keep our people's welfare at the top of your list. We talk about how you were chosen over your brothers because of your skills in warfare and magic, and that is true, your skills are a relevant aspect of your future as king, but your mindset is just as important. I chose you, Prolly, because you think as a ruler.

"And as the future ruler, I also know you are aware of our kingdom's unique situation. Others before us attempted to build their homes inside the mountains or beneath the ground, just like we did, but they all failed. It wasn't until our own kingdom developed the mother crystal that the world understood it was possible. So, we're also an example for other nations. Like the mother crystal itself, we're strong, yet fragile. Our people have reached a certain commodity thanks to our relentless efforts, and other nations are growing more and more victorious by following our example; that not only makes them our allies, but it makes their people part of our duties, in a way. Think of it them as distant cousins, if you may; some of their princes _are_your distant cousins! That's why, the people, the crystal, you might even say the world, need us to stay strong, and serve as a supporting stone for them to continue moving on."

"...Father..." all of those were thoughts that had, more than once, crossed his mind. Things he was constantly aware of. He didn't need a reminder. Yet, the grave tone his father used to speak only made the words weigh in his heart. Shame filled him, not so much at his earlier actions, but due to knowing that sooner or later, those feelings would go away, and he would return to the same activities. Yet, he turned around, desperate to clear the biggest shame; to convince his father that he was aware and trying. "Father, I-

"I know," once again, the older orc interrupted his song, dropping on one knee to speak at eye level with his youngest. His voice became softer, the stern tone from before going away as his lips rubbed against his beard in that way the little prince had always found endearing. "I know that what I'm giving you is a terribly heavy responsibility. It's hardly your fault; anyone would cave in from the pressure and try to run away sometimes. I would be lying if I said I didn't have my fair share of escapades with the castle's maids back when I was your age," that came as a surprise, and the image of his father engaging in such activities was one that he found peculiarly interesting; his feline curiosity piqued once again, and he figured he would have to ask at another moment. Now wasn't the time, however. "That's why I didn't pay much mind to your rebellious streak at first. We all need to wind down sometimes. But it has gotten out of hand. Son, I wouldn't give you this responsibility if I didn't think you capable of handling it, but in order for you to do that, to reach your true potential, you need to be properly groomed. And that's why, skipping your classes is problematic. Now, follow me."

"Eh?" somewhere on the back of his mind, Prolly was hoping they were done, so that he could go back to his quality time with the librarian. Admittedly, not his proudest moment, but his libido was bound to attack again sooner than later. "Follow you where, exactly?"

"To my office. I wanted to share this much with you in private, but don't think this is the extent of your scolding. Your father or not, I am the king, and I must make sure punishment is served appropriately, and lessons are learned... Which, I suppose, is also a father's job."

"Father, what exactly do you mean when you say 'punishment'!?" a very panicked Prolly tried to get out of the taller orc, but when all he got was the deep voice in the form of a chuckle, a shiver trailed up his spine. While he technically still had the choice of running, doing so would only further embarrass him; rather, he chose to walk proudly towards his certain doom.

His father's office was as magnificent as he remembered. Tall walls with shelves full of books and varied trinkets, elegant furniture on top of a hand-woven carpet, and a beautiful oak desk right in front of the double doors completed the basic set, but there were several personal touches from his father: weapons and armor put on display, his father's sword of special note, a single jewel adorning the otherwise modest hilt; paintings of himself, his siblings and a large one of his mother covering the door's wall, all so he could look at them whenever he was working, like the romantic he deep down was; and the tall window behind the desk, which he had requested be made when he ascended to the throne, looking over the castle's back gardens. He couldn't help but being in awe every time he stepped inside, or every time he happened to remember it would one day be his.

As the king went up and sat down, two equally large figures that the prince immediately recognized as his uncles stood next to each side of his chair. To his right, head of the king's guard, Gol'ugg, a solid silver armor covering his enormous form, otherwise exposed to the elements in his choice of more scanty wear for battles; Prolly recognized the armor as a gift from a neighbor kingdom that he only put on for important meetings, for the sake of diplomacy, and couldn't help but wonder how serious his situation really was if he had chosen to use it today. The tall orc looked at him, the green face covered by a thick blonde beard normally handsome to the little prince's eyes now reminding him of the promise of punishment his father had given him, but a quick wink and a hint of a smile through his uncle's tusks gave him a glimmer of hope that perhaps there would be some lenience.

To his father's left, however, a very different picture. Gol'agg, head of the mages' guild, and easily the most skilled spellcaster he had met, while also being the complete opposite of his twin. Tall and brutish, like all orcs tended to be, his massive frame hid a powerful intellect as much as his long, flowing robes hid his body, with only a hint of the large pecs, covered in a carpet of red hair, peaking through. A slender scepter rested in his hand, with a single large orb on top, where Prolly on more than one occasion saw thunderstorms being formed, he absentmindedly rubbed his own neatly shaven ginger beard, his eyes sternly sizing up his nephew as his mind undoubtedly figured the best course of action to advise the king with.

To be facing not only the king himself, but also his most trusted advisors, who happened to be the most powerful beings in the kingdom... even if they were his family, he couldn't help but feel nervous in their presence. It took a great deal of willpower to stay put, not because of their imposing figures looming over him, but because of the sheer pressure their looks created.

"Well, look who bothered showing up," the blonde twin started, his posture quickly relaxing as he leaned to get a closer look at his nephew. His tusks jutted out slightly in a grin that, along with his tone, could've fooled anyone into thinking Prolly wasn't in as much shit as he truly was. "It's been how long since I last saw you, kiddo? Two weeks? I think more, actually; you've been skipping town often lately, haven't you?"

"Certainly," this time it was the ginger twin's turn, his voice rumbling deeper than even the king's own, and his body remaining still save for the sharp eyes that continued to gauge the prince. "His magic lessons have been left unattended, as well. I have managed to capture him on one or two occasions, but he usually spends five minutes preparing a teleport stone and disappears the moment I turn around. He has incredible talent, I'll give him that, but it's all wasted on neglecting his duties."

"Now, now, brother. While I can't really disagree with you, I'm sure there's no need to be so harsh with the child. All he needs is some guidance and he'll soon go back into the right track."

"And once again, brother, you coddle him. I understand a certain level of lenience is required to keep him from caving in to the weight of his responsibilities, but there is a limit he has already crossed, for which he needs to be disciplined."

"Ehem," the king's voice grabbed their attention, and the two went back to their positions. "Before this gets out of hand, dear brothers, the prince has already been informed that measures will be taken regarding his recent activities. What those measures will be, however, is still up in the air."

"Permission to speak freely, my liege," the king simply gestured, and not even a second later, Gol'ugg stepped up and let his arm rest on his brother's shoulder, looking at his nephew's worried face. "I won't deny he screwed up, man, but is it really necessary? I remember when Pops found out about your own fun times; you were too scared to sleep in your own room and had to crawl to ours for weeks, remember?" again, more of these supposed 'fun times' his father used to have that he had never heard about; he would have to ask his uncles about them later. "You don't want him to end up like that, do you?"

"Permission to speak freely, my lord," again, the king just waved for his brother, who swiftly smacked his blonde twin with his staff until he stepped away, hand on the bump that started to form there. "First of all, this is an official matter, and there's a limit to how casual you can get. Have some awareness of your position. Second, I highly doubt our dear brother here will subject Prolly through the same. That was more Father's thing; he was surprisingly strict.

"That's what I'm saying! By the way, it wasn't really necessary to hit me so hard."

"That's one thing we disagree on, brother," was Gol'agg's only answer, and it was enough for the king to stifle a laughter. Prolly suddenly found the dreadful feeling leaving his body, seeing his uncles engaging in the brotherly banter he was more used to, but as if feeling this, the ginger orc coughed to get his sibling's attention back. "Anyway, my lord, if we may continue."

"Right," the pale orc sighed and, with the kind of subtle, almost imperceptible movements befitting of a king, he reached into his drawer and left on top of his desk a shining trinket that the prince immediately recognized as a ring. A simple band without any sort of engraving or tell, nothing to catch the eye, save for the one smoked silver gem on top, practically pulling him forward. It wasn't until his father's hand covered the ring again that he noticed he had stepped up to the desk, again, in feline curiosity.

"W-What is that?" the young prince asked.

"It's a regulation ring," the armored orc explained, and for a moment, Prolly could swear a bit of a haze covered his eyes. "I remember your father being forced to wear it back in his youth; and to be honest, I found myself on the receiving end of that sentence a couple times as well. Not the best experience, let me tell you."

"And I was being harsh? You're scaring the poor boy," Gol'agg replied as soon as he saw the expression on his nephew, eyes wide as plates and mouth distorted into a missing yell, a cry for help, if you may. The king handed the ring to the ginger, who received it with a gentle bow, and stepped up to the young prince as his explanation continued. "Specifically, the ring functions opposite to the mother crystal: instead of emitting a type of energy, it absorbs and stores it for later use, while also blocking said type of energy from having any visible effect on the wearer."

"Hey, do you remember how Pops would make us wear it to suck up our strength while training?" Gol'ugg whispered to the king, yet audibly enough for the half orc to listen as his uncle took his hand and slipped the ring on his finger, his eyes growing larger with concern. "He would make us work out for hours, fight every knight of the guard non-stop, with no rest until we beat each and every one. You could go up to two whole days without sleep, and he wouldn't still be satisfied! The man was strict!"

"Now it's evident you're enjoying this too much, brother," Gol'agg turned, meeting his twin's playful grin just as he felt his nephew hide behind him. It was rare for him to be on the other end of the picture, usually filling the role of the mean, scary uncle, but whatever instinct rose on him, he just wanted to make sure the poor boy's worries would be eased. "Yes, that did happen to them, but the ring can be modulated. It would make little sense to put you through something like that, so instead, we have arranged the gem to absorb a different type of energy. In theory, it shouldn't put you in any kind of real or dangerous distress, or even act as a distraction from your every day activities... At least not more than usual."

"What do you mean? What type of energy will this absorb?"

"Libido," Gol'ugg answered, and had to hold his laughter at the prince's slacked jaw. "We determined that, since the biggest real distraction you face on a daily basis is the crippling need to hump men, then working on stopping that is the best way to find a solution. So 'agg here put a lot of effort in assembling this ring just for you."

"Sexual arousal generates rapid blood movement towards the loins, which is why you feel hotter. The ring will react to that heat and absorb the heat from your body, turning red more energy continues to flow in. In theory, this energy could be used later as fuel for fire magic, or even applied to weapons as a form of elemental addition, so you'll be providing our first step into this research. As a mage in training, you should feel proud."

"Tell him the other thing!" Gol'ugg urged his twin, his grin growing to the point that even the stern mage orc couldn't help but frown at the overt excitement he seemed to be getting from all of this.

"It would seem as if your uncle finds your position funny. Such a behavior is more becoming of trolls than it is of us," Gol'agg's tone evidenced his growing frustration, which his twin could only meekly grin at. "But yes... There is one more thing. While the ring will absorb the energy produced by your blood movement, that won't stop the movement itself, nor will it stop your body from feeling the immediate effects; as long as the ring remains in contact with your flesh, you will have that energy, you just won't have access to it. It will simply keep you from performing the acts said energy is intended for."

"In other words, you'll feel horny, but you can't get off, no matter what you do," the blonde warrior summarized. "The ring is a literal cock block! A cock ring, if you may!"

While Gol'agg had no choice but to rub his temples at how his work had been so easily reduced to such a quick, crude explanation, he similarly had no choice but to nod in agreement. It was then that Prolly came to realize exactly what kind of situation he was in, looking back at the past few days, weeks even, full of nearly constant sexual encounters with butlers, librarians, fellow mages and knights alike, guys in town, blacksmiths with their powerfully tempered arms, bakers with their strong hands, capable of kneading and holding with such tender tightness, and countless others that had, on more than one occasion, helped him ease his bothersome urges. Memories started to flood his head...

"Ah, look! It's already getting red!" the knight's words quickly made Prolly cover the ring in the exact same way one would cover a boner in public, and he realized as much a second too late, as all three men, even the usually stern mage, held back their laughter. It was at this moment that his punishment truly started, with this burning sensation on his cheeks.

"Then, if I get this straight, Father, I am to wear this ring at all times until... you deem it necessary, I suppose?" the young half orc asked, trembling in shame as he tried his best to keep his eyes up at the king's level, getting only a mild nod as a response. "Well then, if that will be all, I'll be taking my leave. Have a good day."

"Prolly," the king's booming voice stopped him just as his hand reached the door, and only now he realized the older orc had remained silent all through his uncles' exposition. He turned around, eyes locking with his father's, where instead of the disappointment he expected, there was a glimmer of regret. "I just want you to know... My intention is not to punish you. You're a smart man, and I know you're aware of your responsibilities. I just want you to understand how much your tendencies are distracting you from your duties; rather than a sentence, consider this a help for you to start fighting those urges back and keeping your priorities straight. And keep our conversation in mind as you do."

For a couple seconds, he remained quiet. His eyes soon dropped, unable to sustain his father's stare, and he simply nodded in agreement as he left the office. The door closed behind him, leaving the three tall, bulking men alone...

And a collective sigh escaped them.

"I think he bought it," Gol'ugg let out, sitting on the edge of the king's desk as he started undoing the belts on his armor, the breastplate coming off and exposing his massive tits, covered in a carpet of sunshine-colored fuzz. "Good lord, this thing is heavy! And hot! How do humans fight in these, I have no idea. By the way, that was great improvisation back there, 'agg! With the whole energy thing and stuff."

"I told you," the ginger, once again, smacked his twin on the head with the staff, making the king wonder if he ever used it for actual spells, "to have some class, pervert! You're not only in the king's presence, he's also your brother who definitely doesn't want to see you flaunting your dumb muscles. Also, unlike you and your inconsistent self-characterization, I did not improvise. The ring does absorb energy, and I am researching it's possible uses, just like I said, so this will be a perfect chance to gather some useful data."

"Yes, but it's still just a medical ring, isn't it?" the orc asked as he rubbed his head again. "I mean, the whole 'you can't get off' thing is all bogus."

"The ring does regulate body temperature and absorb excess body heat. But yes, the part about it keeping him from relieving himself is, as you so eloquently put it, bogus. Nothing but a trick of the mind. They call it a 'placebo', or so I've heard," the mage clarified before his eyes fell on the taller brother, hands rubbing his own cerulean beard as he kept staring at the door. "What about you? You were awfully silent through it all."

"Yes..." the king absentmindedly agreed, his eyes still on the twin gates. "To be honest, I'm not entirely comfortable with this. I couldn't quite bring myself to lie to the child to his face, you know? And this really is the kind of thing Father would put us through whenever we disappointed him. I'm not sure if this is the kind of aftertaste I want."

"I understand where you're coming from, brother, but that is the parent in you talking. You must remember your position as king and take the best path for the kingdom. What you're doing may not be the best for your relationship, depending on how he takes it when, and if, you decide to share with him the truth, but it is an important lesson that will help him when it's his turn to take the throne. You should not feel bad about this."

"Yeah, I'm not excited over this either, but the kid brought it on himself," Gol'ugg said, and the ginger twin solemnly nodded. "Usually, when you bring up these things, he starts feeling really bad about it and attend every single class for a couple of days, until the guilt fades and he goes back to his usual. We should take this opportunity while we still can and really tease the heck out of him, make him squirm so he knows we're serious."

"What's with you today?" Gol'agg wondered. "Anyway, we were a couple steps ahead of you; the staff and certain townspeople have already been informed and will perform accordingly around Prolly. As long as he believes he won't be able to relieve himself with the ring on, his own mental state will act as a block, meaning his libido will continue to accumulate. Honestly, even I need some relief more often than not, so I can't imagine how frustrating of an experience it will be."

"But a mental block can only go so far, right? I mean, his cock's going to react on its own at some point, or he might just give in to his impulses anyway and figure the lie out."

"We also took measures about that," the king replied. "Isn't that right, wizard?"

"Indeed, Your Highness," a new voice suddenly vibrated through the whole room, almost as if coming from within the walls. And then, on a dark, shadowy corner by one of the shelves, bubbling like tar, a large black stain bulged out, prompting the knight to take a defensive stand until his brother's hand stopped him. Slowly, a humanoid outline started forming on the bubble, a slender body coming into sight, hands, legs, face growing more defined, until the seeming bulge silently burst, leaving on it's wake a small, thin human, elegant black clothes tightly hugging to his body underneath an almost ridiculously oversized raven coat, and a pointed hat so large that the hem kept his eyes completely out of sight.

"Who-

"Mad Circus, wizard by commission, at your service," the mysterious newcomer said with a profuse bow that only made Gol'ugg wonder how he managed to keep his hat on after that. His quick recover, however, garnered his attention once again. "And may I say, it is quite the honor to stand in front of you, Your Majesties."

"As always, you seem to be fond of dramatic entrances, wizard."

"A foreign wizard?" the blonde knight made no effort to hide his lack of conviction, leaning as if to ask for his brother to prove him wrong. "I won't say I'm against it, but are you sure this is ok? Given it's a prince we're talking about, and all?"

"Gol'ugg," it was the ginger mage, however, who would ease his brother's worries. "I'll have you know, Mad Circus is considered a mage of the highest caliber, also known for his work ethics among all guilds in the country. As a fellow practitioner of the mystical arts, I will vouch for him in this regard."

"Your Majesty, you flatter me, but I am undeserving of such praise," and with those words, he snaked his way in a wisp of black smoke until he was leaning against the tall, powerful knight, his head barely reaching the magnificent chest. "If it helps your concerns, Your Majesty, I'm sure a man of your..." he gave the orc's pec a single pat, his hand falling through the bright blonde fuzz until he reached the flesh underneath, gentle rubs following, "skills would have no problem dealing with this measly street magician should things look threatening for the honorable prince."

"...I like him already," the orc said as his bare chest continued to be kneaded, until a cough from the king got his attention back and the wizard to wisp back to the door, hidden eyes seemingly stuck to the pale orc.

"Mad Circus, if you really are as grandiose as my brother insists, then I have to apologize for putting you in this situation," the king's solemn voice seemed to pique the strange wizard's interest, as a nod from his hat evidenced. "I will understand if you wish to reject, but if you don't, then your assistance is appreciated."

"It's unbecoming of Your Highness to apologize to a lowly peasant such as myself. As I said, it is an honor to be in your presence, and to have the opportunity to serve you. That is..." he said, and for the first time, his eyes were visible beneath the hat; a pair of black pools full of trickery and sin. "As long as our agreement remains in place."

"It can be arranged, yes."

"In that case, I'm more than happy to stalk and cock block your son!" the silence that fell on the office was so palpable that all three orcs grew tense, all three sets of eyes plastered to the goofy smiling wizard so as to avert one another. "Hehhhhh, it sounds weird when you say it like that, doesn't it? Haha!" he said to break the silence, getting a laughter out of Gol'ugg and uncomfortable shifting out of his siblings.

"In any case!" the king was quick to react. "Just keeping an eye on him for tomorrow will suffice. Knowing his powerful... tendencies, I doubt it'll take longer than that."

"That's perfectly doable, Your Highness. Ah! If you don't mind, I'll use the door. Like, popping out of walls and stuff is fun, but it's also super tiring! My head is so dizzy, you have no idea! Also," as the door opened behind him, his hand never needing to reach for the handle, Mad Circus turned around, eyes clearly aimed at the blonde orc, "Your Majesty's armor is exquisite, but I recall you mentioning it's a bit too stuffy for your tastes. Considering the lack of protection smaller armors provide, I'd be more than happy to spend the night casting a couple protective charms on them, giving that extra sturdiness a leather harness can't otherwise provide."

"Oh! Absolutely! That sounds like a productive way to spend the night," the orc affirmed, and the mysterious spellcaster left, the office once again falling silent as only the three orcs remained inside, the red and blue-haired ones staring at their brother. "What?"

Once again, Gol'agg smacked him with his staff.

---

The day went on like normal afterwards. Night came, and the mother crystal, as it had become routine in the kingdom, dimmed out to signal its inhabitants of the end of a laborious day. Shops closed, doors were locked, and the streets were slowly emptied, save for the bars where merry men would drink, sing and dance their worries away, perhaps swiping a lucky lady or lad off their feet and taking them home for a single night of passionate relief.

At least, that was the kind of thing crossing the orc prince's mind as he lied down on his bed, with nothing but the diminishing light of the crystal outside his window keeping him company. Such an alien feeling, to not share the bed with a guy, hump him and treat his massive pecs, his sweet ass, until he dropped asleep out of exhaustion in his arms, using the massive chest as pillow. And how many in this very same castle had more than once being willing to join him! To think that they were so close, so willing to come over and give their prince a helping hand; all he had to do was sneak out of his room and ask.

Until the almost blinding red shine on his finger reminded him that such a thing wasn't possible; that despite the growing tightness in his pants, his release was locked away from his reach, no matter what he did. For a second, he considered just tinkering with the ring on his own; he was a skilled mage, after all. But the image of his father's disappointed expression kept haunting him every time such an idea crossed his mind, and he was left with no choice but to allow the ring to keep on shining, as if his own hand was flipping him off.

It was with such thoughts that he went to bed last night, alone and somewhat bitter, barely capable of getting any sleep as not his horniness, but his frustration at the lack of control, kept him twisting around the bed all night long. The hours passed, and he did nothing but keep his eyelids down, only for some sort of reverse gravity to pull them back up, his eyes drawn towards the light coming in from the window, mesmerized until he decided to try again. And before he knew it, the light started to grow in intensity, the bustling from town started once again, and he knew he no longer had any choice but to get up and start with the day.

"No! Fuck the day!" he mumbled at his own thoughts from within his pillows, using them as best as he could to cover the noise outside his room, the constant scampering, the hushed whispers, the swords clanking against one another on the garden as morning practice started. God, he wanted nothing more than to stay in.

"I do not understand what could lead you to use such vulgar language, Your Majesty, but it is inappropriate for a man of your standing, and I regret to inform it will not be allowed," a familiar, sometimes obnoxious voice reached the young prince's ears and he tried his best to ignore it, only for his shoulders to be firmly rubbed. "Your Majesty! The day has started, and you have several duties to attend to. I have been informed by His Highness about yesterday's happenings, and I regret to inform my absolute agreement with the measures taken. While I have never been one to judge you based on your preferred activities, to allow such crude diversions to keep you from your responsibilities... I must admit, I was at first astonished! I denied it! But I can no longer-

"Ok! Fine! I get it!" good lord, he could really talk your ear off when he started nagging. As long as it meant keeping him quiet, Prolly was more than willing to drag himself out of bed and start with what promised to be a dreadful day. And in an interesting, ironic turn of events, the first thing he received when he got up from bed was face full of chest; quite literally, his head stuck right in the cleft of his trusted butler's pecs. Muffled ramblings started to come from within, and said butler was at a loss.

"Y-Your Majesty, I-I regret to inform I cannot understand a word you say. Please remove yourself from this position!" he insisted, but the half orc was already inhaling deep, taking a good whiff from those exquisitely large slabs of pure muscle, rubbing his face against the short, soft carpet of golden hair as his hands gave them a good squeeze, already feeling the edges of his shirt and threatening to go inside. "Your Majesty... This ring is incredibly powerful."

As soon as he said that, Prolly had no choice but to peel himself off the man, his hand going for the ring as soon as he did, hoping it was enough to divert the eyes from his reddening cheeks. The man in front of him, a tall and imposing human with a thick, powerful frame, stood firm despite his own setting blush. A flowing mane of golden locks fell down his back and met with a bushy beard that gave him an almost leonine appearance, all of it crowned by two standing strands of bright crimson hair atop his forehead. Piercing green eyes refused to see the young prince, leaving him to properly admire the massive build tightly packed away in a tight white shirt and an elegant black vest; had he not known better, Prolly would've pegged him for human royalty on his own.

And quite notably, he wore nothing beneath his shirt. Whether it was by fastening each and every button, or by covering himself with a tie, a scarf or a handkerchief, usually a deep blood red, he was always a far cry from the image now presented to the little orc: a pair of large, exquisite monster tits out in the air, shirt barely able to contain them as they kept pushing ever so slightly, constantly threatening to just flop out and leave the large nipples exposed. Prolly could feel the ring growing hotter just by thinking that.

"Aldrich! Good morning," was his quick reply, which made his butler bow in response, giving him an ample view of his cleavage in the process; as if the ring wasn't enough, his pants were now feeling the effects of his arousal. Something had to be done, dammit, he thought as he waved at the man's appearance. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. I regret to inform..." Aldrich stopped, surprising the young prince with his sudden reluctance, and the blush as it started to cover the rest of his face. "Most o-of my clothes were misplaced by the castle maids during laundry, leaving me with... very few options to dress myself this morning. This is all from... before I reached my current size," what strange turn of events had turned his uptight butler into this bumbling mess of shyness, he had no idea, but there was something weirdly adorable about it that only added to his regular appeal. And as if he needed any more, Aldrich's arms hugged tightly to his side, squeezing his tits together just enough for them to jump out a bit more. "D-Does Your Majesty find my attire inappropriate?"

"No! Not at all! It's perfect!" was his far too fast reaction, and in a matter of seconds, he was once again deep within the chest, practically melting around such exquisite muscles while reaching and giving them a good, forceful squeeze, enough to get a single grunt out of the butler.

"Your Majesty, please!" taking advantage of his greater size, the butler pulled his petit charge off him with a single hand, trying his best to keep his composure against the flustered state he ended up in. "A man of your standing cannot be seen engaging in such crude behavior! I ask you to restrain yourself; you have an extremely busy day to attend, and even the slightest distraction will be detrimental to your activities."

"You say that while showing off your tits like that?" Prolly mumbled, but if the butler's sigh was anything to go by, it was audible enough. "Alright, alright. What's the schedule for today, then?" he asked as he got up, and the butler almost immediately walked up to him, reaching from behind and lifting the soft silk shirt, slowly leaving the prince's small figure bare. Said prince, however, was far more preoccupied with the massive chest bumping against the back of his head, all while a pair of strong hands rubbed his own nearly naked body.

"First thing in the morning, right after breakfast, you have a training session with your uncle in the castle grounds. It was requested you wear no armor, as today you will be focusing on evasion training," he was about to complain, but just then a new, freshly cleaned shirt found its way on his head, pulled down by the same skilled hands as before, slipping inside to get everything in place and making his back go stiff whenever they brushed against his skin. "Normally, you would have a literature class afterwards, but His Highness in person requested that be held off."

"Father did?" once again, his curiosity attacked, but it was quickly set aside for fluster as his pants were gently pulled down, leaving him with nothing but his underpants while the butler folded his clothes. "Any... Any reason for that?"

"He did not go into the specifics, although I do believe he mentioned the librarian at some point? Something about him being too busy with disciplinary measures. Will Your Majesty change out of those under garments?" the only answer he got was an incomprehensible gargle. "I feel like I should insist otherwise, but it's Your Majesty's choice to keep them on. Anyway, instead of that, you will be using that extra time to attend to the errands in town you have left unattended for the past few days. I suggest you be quick about them, as you have a class with your uncle in the mages' guild this afternoon. Also, His Highness was very insisting in you attending the family meeting once your day is done, so it would be most commendable if you delivered him good news at the time," he returned to the smaller man, once again kneeling for him to properly get into his pants; and once again, giving ample view of his magnificent cleavage, hair almost shining with the light from the window, and at the precise height for Prolly to just rest his bulge right between them. His hand hadn't uncovered the ring yet, but he was certain it could outshine the mother crystal by now. "After all this time, your errands have piled up, so I suggest you attend to them in a swift matter, Your Majesty. I will compile a list for you during your training, so you won't have to worry about that."

"A list of what?" Aldrich gave him a harsh look as buttoned his pants a bit harder than necessary. "Right, the errands! I know, I know. I heard you."

"Your Majesty," the butler sighed, and his eyes turned softer while looking at his young charge. "I understand your current impulses are a natural aspect of a healthy man your age. Believe me when I say we all go through the same period in our lives. However, you are in an extremely peculiar position, and allowing said impulses to dominate your life to the point of neglecting your duties is simply unacceptable. That is why, as your butler, I will take any action necessary for you to focus."

"What..." Prolly couldn't keep from staring at the human, his eyes constantly going between the green orbs and the giant tits, against his better judgment. "What exactly do you mean by that, Aldrich?"

"I mean..." once again, the gentle blush on the leonine man's cheeks resonated with a certain something within Prolly, and the way he subtly pushed his pecs together again only made him grow even hotter. "If His Majesty ever needed to relieve himself of such urges, I would... I would be willing to follow my own responsibilities and... provide assistance."

"Aldrich!" he tried to say more, to complain further, but the ring's light started showing brightly through his fingers and he had no choice but to shove his hand in his pocket to keep it from sight. Of course, it was no secret that he had seen at his butler in that way more than once; as if this morning wasn't evidence enough, he had always enjoyed giving the older man a good squeeze from time to time and dreamed with the possibility of spending a night with them, but it was something they had never reached. Literally any other day he would've jumped at them in an instant, but even if the ring in his hand wasn't blocking him, just the light was enough to remind him of his father's words the previous day. "...That won't be necessary. I will hold those urges back on my own, as a king is supposed to. I apologize for making you worry."

"Your Majesty... Your words fill me with such joy, you can't even begin to imagine how much!" he said with another bow, yet all Prolly could think about was how he wished he would stop giving him such nice looks at his tits when he did. "Please, allow me to support you to the best of my ability! Let us start your day with an abundant breakfast! It is the most important meal of the day, after all."

Luckily, he turned around, giving the prince only a look at his still wide back, less inviting than the gigantic pecs he carelessly let out in the air, allowing him to breathe for a moment. But it was only once he sat down on the table, set in his room for his private meals, that the red glimmer in his hand started to die out. His stomach grumbled and the arousal started to turn into hunger as he sat down in front of hundreds of treats: slices of bread toasted to golden perfection, a multitude of jams, cheeses and hams to choose from, enough fruits to feed a whole family, and to please his feline blood, freshly cooked fishes of varying kinds and sizes, all of them still steaming hot. He wasn't necessarily a big eater, and most of this food he tended to share with Aldrich and the rest of the castle's staff, but it never stopped amazing him how much his royal blood could procure.

"And of course, what kind of breakfast would be complete without a warm cup of coffee? Wouldn't you agree, Your Majesty?" the butler said as he added the sugar on the black beverage, followed by warm milk, holding the bottle up high as the sweet white liquid poured down. Prolly remembered that one distant time in his youth when he had seen the butler do as much for his father, and the way his younger self panicked over the contents spilling all over. His brothers had a good laugh at his expense, but Aldrich assured him such a thing wouldn't happen to a man with his experience, and ever since the day he was appointed as his personal butler, he made it a personal task to always provide his prince with the same show. Just the fact he remembered always made Prolly feel good, and to this day, he had never been able to fully shake off the feeling the milk would spill, but he had never seen his loyal butler fail. "Oh, tarnation!"

That is, until today, when a single wrist movement made the white fluid curve and fall all over his bare chest, soaking his clothes to the point that his nipples became clearly visible through the layers of fabric, poking tantalizingly, calling the half orc to lean in to suck and bite them through the shirt. He had grabbed his first toast of the day and was about to give his first bite when it happened, and the sight alone was enough for the ring to start glowing again. The way the milk rolled down his cleft, trailing the delicate curve of his pecs, clinging to the golden hairs and sticking them together reminded him of... things.

"Your Majesty! I apologize for such indiscretion!" Aldrich apologized as he tried to cover himself, inadvertently smearing himself with more milk and making his pecs jiggle, pushing a single moan out of his mouth that he tried his best to stifle. The prince's hand had already dived back into his pocket, but this was still torture. "And to think this was my only shirt for the day. I believe... Your Majesty, I regret to inform I may have to spend the rest of the day performing my duties... indecently underdressed."

"Would you look at the time! I have a training session to go to! Better get started with the day, right!?" he screamed as he got up from the table, chair falling to the ground as he went to the door. His butler tried to say something to stop him, but Prolly quickly interrupted him. "Oh, Aldrich! Please, start eating without me! I'll catch something on the way! Ok, bye!" and he rushed out of the room before another look at those soaked tits made him lose it.

Aldrich was left alone in the bedroom, absentmindedly rubbing his wet pecs as he stared at the door. A single sigh left his lips and he reached for a toast of his own.

"It really pains me to tease you like this, Your Majesty, but the king issued his orders. Please understand," a bite and he started unbuttoning his shirt, until his entire chest pushed out, exposed completely, nipples erect, and started drying himself off with a handkerchief. "I would not have been entirely against the idea of helping His Majesty with his urges either. I hope he has an easy day."

---

"Damn you, Aldrich," the young prince mumbled on his way down the hallways, chewing on the emergency banana he had taken in lieu of a proper breakfast, barely enough to contain his hunger. "Damn you, with your luscious hair, your sexy beard, your gigantic pillow tits and amazing abs. God, I wanted to try and lick those abs."

The ring gave a faint glimmer and he growled at it, achieving nothing with it. The last piece of fruit went down his throat and he burned the peel in a wisp of magical flames, leaving a sweet scent in the air that didn't ease his concerns in any way. A quick look outside the windows worked a lot better; the gardens were illuminated by the light of the mother crystal, giving the grass a soft bluish hue. It got him to open the window and let the air in, filling his lungs with the smell of damp soil.

As bothersome as that morning may have been, it was only a bump on the road that he would soon pass over. Physical training, he had found out, was the ideal way to ignore your arousal. Once you got your body moving, the blood was too busy pumping through your muscles to bother going to your dick, so a nice combat session with his uncle was the ideal distraction. Not to mention, a chance to fight the leader of the king's guard wasn't only rare even for the prince, but also the ideal opportunity to reclaim some of the dignity he lost the previous day in Gol'ugg's eyes. Yes! That's exactly what it was! Thinking about it like that filled him with new confidence that he would be able to overcome any challenge!

"Oh, there you are kid!"

Prolly looked outside the window and his confidence shattered. Standing just a couple feet away was the very imposing Gol'ugg, exactly as he always remembered him: tall and powerful, brimming with muscles and sheer presence. All of that was normal; what wasn't normal was the lack of clothes in his person: other than a measly loincloth that, in all honesty, left very little to imagination, he was essentially naked. Thick, compact thighs that he was sure could burst a literal melon with ease, god-like abs and a gigantic pair of monstrous orc tits covered in a virile carpet of golden hair, which immediately brought to mind Aldrich's own and pictures of his head being squeezed between the two sets of thick slabs of meat.

"Hmm? So, you like what you're seeing? Is that it?" the orc's question grabbed the prince's attention and he looked up, only to find a red glimmer reflecting off his face. He looked away as he covered the ring again, with every intention of closing the windows and just running, locking himself in his bedroom, assuming his butler had left and wouldn't subject him to the same teasing, but before he could move, a pair of strong arms reached inside and pulled his tiny figure through the window. "You're not thinking about escaping again, I'm sure. You know what your father will say if you do."

"I know..." he tried his best to not let the crippling shame show. "I know! I'm here to train. I'm not skipping my classes! But, uncle... are you sure this is appropriate for training?"

"My boy, historically speaking, our kind have always worn little in battle. Back in the day, before the kingdom reached the power it has now, and we had no means to craft armor, going into the fray with this much was considered heavy equipment! Even today, as sturdier options exist, most of our soldiers pick light sets of armor or leather plates that don't hinder their movements so much. It's become synonym with the orc empire!" he screamed with a fist to the air, giving the young prince under his arm a clear view of the flexing muscles. "And as our future king, should you ever find yourself leading our forces, you'll have to be in light armor, just like them, to serve as their inspiration. Soldiers will only protect a king they see as one of them!"

"Yeah, no, I understand that," Prolly was trying his best to look away, but the way his uncle's tits jiggled in the corner of his eye was too tempting to look away for too long. "I meant if it's safe for you to do combat training like this. I mean, armor is there to act as defense," that was a lie; under normal circumstances, he would embrace the naked training his uncle proposed and try his best to get as much contact as possible, but right now, doing so would be detrimental.

"You don't worry about that, kiddo! I got... acquainted with a wizard last night, and I have enough protective charms on me to take on an entire army by myself! Besides, this is evasion training," he stopped and let the half orc safely down on the ground. Prolly took a moment to look around at the familiar training grounds, the ample free space in which the king's personal guard performed their exercises and combat drills. To the side, a couple benches where most guardsmen would watch their fellow knights take each other in one on one rounds, whether it was out of practice or simple masculine bets, and his mind drifted to the many times he joined said knights in their fights, challenging one of them on more than one occasion, sitting and cheering with the rest as he admired their skills, and sometimes, just sometimes, bring one of them to the back of the benches and spending some quality time together.

Once again, the bright red light coming from his finger got his attention. Realizing that would end up as a common occurrence, he turned it over and clenched his fist as tight as it would go, leaving no place for the light to escape through, but his action only got loud laughter out of his uncle.

"Causing trouble already, isn't it? You little perv!" the behemoth of an orc hollered, causing his nephew's cheeks to go almost as red as the very jewel he was trying to cover. "You'll have to turn it around again, kiddo. A ring on your palm isn't good for holding weapons. Not like you'll be needing them too much; for this training, you'll only be avoiding my attacks. Every time we come in contact, you'll lose points."

"What the hell, man? I wanted to punch, kick and all that," the half orc did throw a few quick hits to illustrate. "I need to let off some steam, you know?"

"If you had been here two weeks ago, when I first intended to give you this session, you would be punching and kicking right now, wouldn't you?" of course, Prolly refused to look at his uncle's sneer as he said as much, but Gol'ugg simply laughed it off, a heavy hand ruffling the young man's tall hairdo. "You reap what you sow, kid! Now, come on! We got to start with some stretches. You'll be using your core a lot, so focus on that. I'll be using these babies!"

And by babies he meant the muscular arms, which he proceeded to flex in front of his very bothered nephew, kissing his bulging biceps and taking the chance to pec bounce, with the same bragging attitude he was known for among the castle's staff. At times like this, Prolly would laugh along with the older orc, while secretly wishing he could jump onto that massive chest and sink down the cleft and just spend the day there. Right now, the 'secret' part was missing from his face. As his uncle stretched his arms upwards, deliberately flexing again, his pecs growing puffier and harder with his actions, Prolly could feel his face turning tense from the sheer tightness with which his lips pursed to keep his whimpers in, and his knuckles started going white from keeping the jewel hidden in his hand.

"You should get started, little prince," more like startled, once he realized how aware his uncle was of his staring. And if the still present grin showed anything, he was enjoying the way the little orc squirmed. He remembered Gol'agg mentioning him being like a troll and couldn't help but agree with the mage.

"I am! Thank you!" not the most mature tone he could use, but he honestly didn't care. Rather than having to deal with the hulking mass of muscle in front of him, he turned around, eyes aimed at the distant wall, to start with his own. More joints than he was proud of started popping all over his body, each movement pulling on something just enough to get short grunts out of him. Each minimal cracking sound that reached his ears only drove the point of how far behind he had fallen on his training, how little actual effort he had put in the past few weeks, shame starting to prickle on the back of his head again.

And to top it off, the damned ring refused to go down, the light blinding him every time he so much loosened his fingers. Of course, that was a different issue; that had to do with the constant grunting behind his back. As Gol'ugg no doubt stretched, his voice started turning more... erotic than necessary, with moans of varying pitches coming in here and there. Naturally, it was enough to make the young hybrid tight between the legs, so he turned around with every intention of calling the guard out on it.

However, he froze. At the moment, Gol'ugg had turned around as well and was stretching forward, trying his best to reach his toes. Not only were his prominent tits getting in the way, which in and on itself was enough to rile the prince up, but he was so stubbornly insistent on reaching them and pushing forward that his ass went the opposite direction, jutting back and towards his nephew. What Prolly had in front of him was a wide, round and firm pair of bright green, exposed cheeks, not in the least covered by the loincloth his uncle had decided to wear, practically shaking in his face, begging him to jump in and give them a good, long lick. Don't look down, he told to himself, but he couldn't help the habit, and right there, beneath the magnificent piece of ass and just as bare, were the full, tight balls and a swinging pendulum of a cock over them, soft yet still impressive on its own. He was sure it was only his imagination, but Prolly could swear a certain musk hit him at that precise moment.

Gol'ugg remained apparently unaware of how much his body was being eyes up, or what kind of reactions it caused on the young man. Prolly's stiff back (and other stiff things) didn't stop him from getting up and flexing again, his back muscles suddenly bulging with such incredible definition that the half orc audibly swallowed, his hand absentmindedly starting to rub his bulge, despite the futility of it all. And that big, bubbly ass clenching, nuts pulling back and that thick rod stirring just a bit...

"Alright then," a large sword swung along with the tall orc, drawing an arc behind him. It was only by instinct and luck that Prolly crouched in time to avoid the attack, but before he could keep reacting, the same sword was already coming down on him. A jump to the side, and then back as an enormous fist almost met with his face, and he could already feel his breathing get harsh from the effort, while Gol'ugg stared at him with a grin framed by his tusks, casually leaning on his blade. "Lesson is go, kiddo! Don't get distracted now."

"Wait, hang on!" he barely managed to get out as swing after swing was thrown in his direction, each one surely strong enough to slice his arm off. "Don't I need... armor or something?" he jumped away just in time to save himself from an attack that made the ground crack; hardly a surprise from his uncle's muscles, but if he was going that hard at it, then what was going to happen when he couldn't step away?

"Didn't I just explain why orcs don't wear armor?" the guardsman raised his weapon again, aiming it at the prince as a cocky grin drew on his lips. "If you don't want to get hit, then just keep evading. Simple as that!"

"What kind of reasoning is that!?" but of course, his words fell on deaf ears and Gol'ugg kept swinging at him with wide, easily telegraphed attacks, only to change directions midway and bring the sword down, or mix in some shorter, faster swings. Even wearing full armor, almost every warrior in the kingdom would have a hard time with it all, and it was only thanks to his small size that he managed to stay unharmed.

One big attack almost came down, but with a quick glance showing him the orc's spread legs, Prolly dove in, sliding his way through the muscular pillars and staying outside of his range. Bad idea, he thought, when above him, right in front of his eyes, the hanging monster cock appeared, a mere inch away from his face, followed by the large pair of orc balls. As they barely touched his nose, the half orc took a single whiff that confirmed the earlier smell he had detected, and couldn't help the quick, elated gasp that escaped him.

Except when the weapon came crashing down over him.

The sword stabbed deep into the ground, as the half orc looked from a safe distance, having narrowly rolled and jumped back. A second later and who knows what would've happened with his face. Not even the furious luster of the ring was enough to distract him; his eyes were now plastered on the massive orc as he tried to pull his weapon of the ground, to no avail. Every single thing he did was important if Prolly wanted to get off this training unscathed.

"Crap... Ok, it's stuck. Want to call it quits?" he said in the most casual tone possible, but Prolly held his stare. A single laugh followed. "Yeah, I didn't think you would bite that. Took you by surprise, though! Distracted as you were and all. A tiny guy like you, nimble, quick on his feet... This session shouldn't be a problem, kid! It's more or less the same as whenever your dad catches you wasting your time and you scamper away, right? Same principle," another quick laugh escaped him and the prince let out an annoyed growl at the memory of his father's disappointment, but his eyes followed his uncle as he reached for the benches.

A large, heavy war hammer ended on his hands, the flat side covered in thick, sharp spikes. A couple swings and twirls were all it took for Gol'ugg to show off his immense strength, yet Prolly was focused on something else. Despite his best efforts to remain focused on the task at hand, his eyes were drawn towards the jiggling pecs, unable to stop as every movement the orc did to hold the massive weapon caused them to bump against one another, squeeze and jump, his nipples drawing such peculiar, exquisite patterns that the prince was almost hypnotized by them.

When the hammer came crashing down, he managed to leap out of the way, watching the ground were his feet had been just a second ago exploding from the impact. He couldn't afford the distraction right now. But his eyes once again landed on the jumping tits, shaking from the force of the swing and hitting one another like balloons. Look anywhere else, literally anywhere else, he thought, and his eyes betrayed him by looking down just as his ass jumped in pretty much the exact same way, cheeks so plump he could use them as pillows every night. Everything about the man seemed to move in slow motion for a second just to give him time to admire the sheer mass of muscle tempting him to cave in.

And then it started moving at normal speed again, and the hammer came down on him with a second swing. He never understood how his uncle could move so fast despite his size, but he had no time to think about that; he only had time to step away, the hammer missing him by less than an inch and making him lose his footing from the tremor it caused. He took the chance to get one of his feet on the hammer and use it to push himself away from the orc, landing an all four thanks to his feline blood, but his uncle looked at him with pursed lips.

"Contact. That'll be less points, kid."

"Wowowow! Hang on!" the one thing that could beat the prince's battle instincts was the sudden indignation washing through him as his uncle gave him a playful grin. "Nu-uh! Doesn't count! I've been avoiding all attacks, I just used it as a platform. It's pragmatism; it's creative fighting. If anything, you should give me extra points for it," he pouted, getting yet another laugh out of the orc.

"Negotiating! That's one thing we won't have to worry about when you take charge, huh?" Gol'ugg kept laughing, prompting an even bigger pout from his nephew. His hands let go of the hammer, leaving it cleaved into the broken ground much like his previous weapon, and he cracked his knuckles as his grin grew. "In that case, I'll be getting pragmatic as well."

"Wait, what?" he didn't have time to react as his uncle hit full speed, jumping in front of him in a second, arms wide open; he only had time to let his jaw drop in surprise before the log-like arms closed around him, pulling him into a tight hold as the two fell together to the ground. But more than that, he found himself pushed against the massive set of pecs he had spent all the while admiring, head lodged between them, diving into the cleft and just taking in the powerful musk inside, his whole body melting from the warmth, the taste, the sheer sensation of it all.

"Oh? That's more contact! That's a lot less points," his uncle laughed over him, and Prolly's pride made him reach forward and try to push himself off the chest, but his hands simply ended on top of the slabs of muscle, rubbing here and there, feeling the short hairs against his palms, sending shivers up his spine as he continued to drawn on his musk. The only thing keeping him from licking and biting such magnificently large tits was the embarrassment he would go through afterwards trying to explain himself, but just as his willpower started to break apart, his hands reached the perky nipples, those exquisite nubs of flesh, and he thought of twisting them to get his uncle to release him; that could easily be written off as an attempt to free himself, after all.

Bad idea, as all that got was, surprisingly enough, a loud, quickly muffled moan out of his uncle that only made his own pants grow tighter, just as they were in the ideal position to grind against the thick cakes. His hips moved on their own and before he knew it, his bulge was being pushed between his uncle's pecs- No! He had to be strong! With that in mind, he pushed against the powerful arms as hard as he could, twisting around, silently lamenting himself for leaving those exquisite pecs unattended-

"Oh no, kid! It won't be that easy!" Gol'ugg's hold got stronger just as the prince finished twisting, the back of his head now trapped once again between the massive tits. He struggled, but no matter what, the bigger orc simply had the advantage in strength. And to make matters worse, or better even, he felt the long, hardening monster length start to grind against him; or rather, his own ass, in his struggle, rubbed against the hardening cock. Prolly had to bite his lower lip to keep his moan down and whether his uncle was aware of what he was doing or not, a hearty chuckle rumbled across his chest that made the half orc tremble in excitement. But in his struggle, one of his kicks went a bit farther than he expected. "Gah!"

Suddenly, Gol'ugg's hold loosened considerably, and all it took were a few bumps for the hybrid to set himself free, crawling away as fast as possible and making enough distance between him and the orc before turning back, ready to take any other hits he could throw his way. However, what he found then wasn't the attacking monster he had been picturing, but rather the sorry image of his uncle seemingly holding back the tears as his hands held something between his legs. It took a moment, but it finally dawned on the young orc.

"Shit! Shit, uncle 'ugg, I'm so sorry! Oh my god, are you... are you ok?" the young prince panicked and slowly approached the defeated guardsman, just as he started getting up, trying his best to regain his breath, yet his hands not leaving his crotch.

"I'm fine," his voice was more of a dry whisper than anything, but he still managed to get back on his feet. "Far from the first time I get a nut tap, kid. These boys have seen their fair share of hits, you just never get used to it. I'll live. We should end the lesson here, though; one is enough."

"Ok, ok. That's gre-" he immediately stopped when his uncle's hands left his crotch, blushing rather hard and looking away in an instant. "Uncle, your, um..."

"What?" the half feline pointed down and the guardsman, already having an idea of what he meant, looked down. Just as he expected, the loincloth had snapped with that kick and was now on the ground, next to his feet, leaving out in the air his limp cock, hanging like the monstrous club it was. Despite the pain, just a glance was enough to make it twitch a bit, and Gol'ugg exploded in laughter at it, surprising his nephew. "Man, you got me good, huh? Thank god it's just the two of us, or I would be dying out of shame right now. Or maybe all the guys would be dying out of jealousy at this monster, don't you think?" he said, only to see Prolly still looking away. "Oh, come on! You, of all people, have seen plenty of these already. No reason to get coy all of a sudden. Be honest with me, is it bigger than most?"

"Uncle!" was the outraged response, but once again, Gol'ugg did nothing but laugh at his nephew's reaction.

"What? You're clearly enjoying the view!" Prolly had no idea what the orc meant by that until his eyes caught a glimpse of the powerful light he had forgotten about up to this moment, and that was quickly shoved back into his pocket to try and dim it out, leaving him with a glowing pair of pants and a guardsman bending over with laughter in front of him. "Dear lord! That thing hit me in the eyes a few times, you know, kid? You should see your face! Sweet. Anyway... Now I feel like checking if I can get that wizard to help me out with a couple extra charms, if you catch my drift, so you're dismissed."

That was all his uncle said before turning around, whistling a random tune on the way and leaving Prolly alone to gather his thoughts... Or at least that was the plan, and it would've worked had it not been for his still naked ass bouncing with every step, and the swinging balls behind it tantalizingly calling the half orc over, making him lose his breath for reasons completely different from the training he had originally thought of.

---

After such a... peculiar episode, Prolly wanted nothing more than to move on with his day, away from the thoughts that kept plaguing his head. His mind was a confusing haze of hormones, even after a few minutes alone to try and clear it out; despite managing to keep the ring's glow at a minimum, it remained a persistent bright red, and even if it didn't, his own member remaining half erect at the memory of his uncle's body was enough of a bitter reminder. And he'd be damned if that sweet body didn't end up as fuel for his fantasies once the stone was taken off his finger.

"Damn," he let out when the shine started getting brighter, quickly covering it and taking deep breaths to calm himself down. At least the shame made him get some self-control fast. Even if said self-control was to be broken soon.

An explanation is overdue: shortly after his training session was cut short, Prolly made his way to his bedroom, and with each step came to the realization that he would have to face his butler once again; Aldrich's shirtless self quickly popped into his head, thick chest and exquisitely defined abs just calling for him, and soon enough, the leonine butler's fantasy mixed with Gol'ugg's. In no time the two were passionately making out in his head, hands roaming each other, rubbing backs and reaching for asses as the prince's head was squeezed between their massive tits. Once he reached the door to his room, he stayed outside for a few minutes just trying to will his erection, and the ring's glimmer as well, down.

Surprisingly enough, when he finally did get inside, the room was empty. Not only had the butler left, but his bed had also been made, the breakfast table had been removed, and a single sheet of paper waited for him in his desk, with several words written in the most elegant calligraphy he had ever seen; a letter he instantly recognized as the butler's own:

Your Majesty, once again, I regret to inform that I agree with the measures taken by His Highness regarding your recent actions, and that I hope this experience is the first step towards a more disciplined self. That said, I do not regret to inform that I, as your loyal servant, cannot bring myself to just sit idly while you go through any hardship, no matter how big or small, if there is anything in my power to assist. As such, I have taken upon myself to deal with a good number of your tasks and discreetly delegate them to the castle's staff, leaving you with enough time to perform the ones I believe are the most relevant to your formation. It goes without saying that such an action on my part is direct disobedience towards the king's orders, so they must remain under wraps. I apologize for making you part of such an underhanded situation, but again, I cannot bring myself to sit idly. However, I beg you to take in consideration that this is not a free pass for you to ignore the tasks you do have to take part on, which I have taken the liberty of pointing out in the list attached to this letter. I, like everyone in the kingdom, have great expectations for you, Your Majesty, which I am sure you will live up to.

Sincerely yours,

Aldrich

Damn butler loved going on and on with his rants; if there was no one to stop him, he could write a whole book with little effort. Yet, looking at this, Prolly couldn't help but smile. Once he made sure there were no prying eyes around, he opened the drawer and left the letter inside, safe and warm. His eyes immediately fell on the list, however, and any and all willpower he had managed to muster through the day vanished the moment his eyes landed on the word 'library'.

And that was pretty much where he was headed right now, his steps growing slower by the second as he almost stopped altogether in order to check the list for the millionth time, desperately trying to come up with any sort of excuse that could push this trip back.

"Let's see, I have to get a codec in the library, a staff from the master blacksmith in town, and custom made flasks and bottles from today's farmer's market, and deliver them all to the cleric's guild," he read aloud in the hopes that inspiration would strike him, but yet again he came up short, and just in time to reach the library's door and linger outside without mustering the courage to go in. "Ok, so the cleric's guild is outside the castle, close to the mage's guild, so I should finish the deliver fast and go to uncle 'agg's class, so... I could to the blacksmith's place, then go to the market and rush back to the castle when I'm done, then run to the cleric's guild and then to uncle 'agg's, right? Sounds logical!"

And no sooner he said that, his head hung low with a sigh. There was no way Aldrich didn't know what he was doing when he wrote the list, making Prolly reconsider the weight of his words, but in the end, it was clear that he was here to keep learning how to deal with those problematic urges. There was truly no way around it, no matter how hard he racked his brain looking for one.

A few deep breaths and he stepped inside. And right in the front desk, waiting for him just as he had predicted, was the same mouse from the previous day, focused on storing books on the shelf behind him, leaning forward and giving the prince a clear view of the prominent, magnificent ass that he had been so eager to have fun with the day before. It felt like weeks ago when those plump cheeks were in his hands, flesh slipping between his fingers, hands kneading his slender chest while he wondered what his hole would taste like.

Those thoughts were enough for the ring to start shining again, and the light quickly caught the librarian's attention. Prolly found it somewhat amusing to think of the poor rodent being so engrossed in his work when some random light appeared behind him, startling him bad enough for his ass to jiggle furiously. He had to adjust his pants a bit to accommodate his growing boner, and just then the young mouse looked at him, the bespectacled eyes carrying a slight glint of hope and yearning behind the apparent fear.

"Y-Your Majesty!" he was quick to bow to the orc, but a gesture was all it took from him to get him to stop. They had been so close to fucking the previous afternoon, what was the point of pleasantries this far in the game? "Such a surprise to have you here so soon, especially after yesterday's incident..."

"Calm your ass, man," he was quick to stop the mouse. He was already familiar with his style: a cute, shy bookworm on the surface, he was a huge slut deep down, enjoying throwing hints at plenty of guys around. Hell, Prolly first found out about his tendencies by catching him with one of the guards in the history section; what an ass, he thought back then, and couldn't help but taste it on his own afterwards, getting hooked in an instant. How he wanted to fall on his clutches right now, but the heat in his hand had a different opinion. "I'm here to get the codec requested by the cleric's guild head; the one on resurrection spells."

"Oh," the disappointment in his voice was so palpable; learn how to hide it better, boy, the prince thought. "You'll be taking care of the delivery, then? How lucky they are, to have the prince personally visit them. Ah, the codec should be around here, I'm sure I had it nearby."

"It's no big deal. You know, we need to learn to be humble, get to know the problems of our people, all that kingly stuff," the orc said, more to distract himself from his rushing thoughts than anything, looking all around for any book to put his eyes on and keep them away from the tempting curves the mouse offered to him. "You got any luck yet?"

"It's not here..." his voice once again carried that heavy tone, but that slightly helpless, shy air was one of the things he found endearing about the guy. "Maybe somewhere around the back? I might have left it here, hang on," the other thing he liked about him was the way he would take any chance to flaunt that massive ass around, such as once again leaning against the shelf behind his desk, hands quickly going through several spines as he mumbled names under his breath. Each step he took made his cheeks shake slightly, and each jump made the ring shine more within Prolly's pocket. He barely cared anymore, however, as the sight alone was enough to get his attention. "Ah! Here it is!"

"Here it is, indeed," the half orc let out as he jumped over the desk, landing on the other side and right in front of the plump ass, kneeling until his face ended up right in front of it, hands quickly reaching for the rodent's hips to keep him from turning around and ruining his fun. Yes, the ring would keep him from cumming, but that didn't mean he couldn't have some fun, right? A lick or two was all he needed to calm his urges for a while; if anything, it was for the sake of continuing his day. If anything, it was his duty, as future king, to please himself and keep his carnal desires from becoming an even bigger distraction.

His skilled, restless hands drove up the mouse's robes, the ring's glow telling their course just moments before the fabric would rise, slowly exposing the thick thighs to his eyes. He could feel them shaking, heard the librarian swallow, sure he was staring intently as his prince teased and played with him, exactly like a cat and a mouse; and he could feel the way he gently pushed his ass outwards, wanting the royal's face between his cheeks so bad. And the moment his robes went completely off, and the half orc realized the lack of underwear, was the moment when he gave up.

Prolly's face dove deep into that ass, squeezed between the large cheeks, his nostrils filling with the mouse's powerful musk. A hint of book smell that always made him feel extremely curious, as well as a thin but delectable layer of sweat that seemed to follow his excitement whenever they got together, were always enough to get the young prince riled up, pushing himself further in, hands safely resting, groping the thick cheeks, pushing them apart to go further in, squeezing them to get his face crushed by them; all until he finally reached that tight hole, clenching in anticipation for his tongue. A single lick, he said; that's all and then he would leave.

Of course, Prolly never believed that, deep down. A single lick was all it took to make his body tremble, but the mouse's shaky moan as he did, made his pants grow tighter, and he was sure the ring's glow was blinding by now. He no longer cared; all that mattered was the ass in front of him, the taste drowning him, like a drug, pulling him in, and the whimpers getting louder as his tongue pushed in deeper, the tight walls closing around him. His taste buds flared, and he inhaled hard to fill his lungs with the powerful musk, making his hands squeeze even harder.

A thud nearby caught their attention, the mouse squeaking in surprise, and Prolly would be lying if he said that didn't make his own dick stir inside his pants, but remembering the last time the librarian had done so during their quality time, he reluctantly removed himself from the plump ass and looked for the source of the noise. His eyes landed on a single fallen book, a few shelves away from the desk, which he was ready to ignore and continue with his meal...

Until he looked up, where a tall painting of his father hung from the wall, the familiar eyes looking all over the library, as if guarding the centuries of knowledge previous generations of rulers had managed to hoard. His expression, serene yet harsh, the same he used when talking to him the previous day...

"Is this it?" the prince said after standing up, reaching forward for the book that only now he realized the mouse had been holding during their session: a thick, marble white tome decorated with golden engravings and strange runes woven into the fabric of the cover. It was surprisingly light, considering its size, and Prolly held it under his arm as he turned over the desk. "I'll be leaving now, then."

"Wait, what?" the mouse once again let his disappointment show through his words, but the half orc decided it was best to ignore it for now. He wouldn't have any of it, though. "What do you mean leaving? You just started! Um... Your Majesty..." he added to his outburst, with a notably lower tone. Prolly, however, didn't seem to care.

"You know..." he wasn't looking at him; he was staring back at his father's painting. "I just got a lot of things to focus on today. Nothing personal. We can keep at it later, no worries," and he quickly left, before the ring would start shining again.

The librarian was left alone once again, drowning in the library's silence, in his sitting disappointment, and in the gaping need his hole was left with after such an expert rimming was so crudely interrupted. All because of some random damn book and whatever had been crossing the prince's mind.

"Random? I feel offended," the librarian fell to the ground when the otherwise empty room echoed with a sudden rich voice, and next to him, sitting on his desk with his legs crossed one over another, was a young man in a long black coat, and an oversized pointy hat hiding his features. A wicked grin was drawn on his lips as he looked at the mouse, a glint shining on his eyes within the darkness of his hem.

"Y-You're the wizard... The wizard the king h-hired..."

"Ding ding ding! You are correct! Would you like to buy a vowel now?" what the hell was he talking about? "I can tell you're scared, you know? You should be. His Highness told everyone about the young prince's situation, and instructed them to act accordingly, but he also made it very clear not to go overboard and risk his plans. Now, what do you think he would say if he heard about this sorry situation, young man?"

"Please don't..." the mouse almost teared up, crawling to Mad Circus and clinging to his robes as he started bawling incomprehensibly. "Hib Highneb woud hab mah head!"

"Hey, stop that, this was an expensive robe," he pulled the robe particularly hard when the mouse threatened to blow his nose on it. "I'm not evil, I won't rat on you. Haha, get it? Rat. Because you're a mouse," a low chuckle left the wizard, but the mouse didn't react. With a sigh, Mad Circus took a book from the desk and held it high. "This one has info on the mother crystal, correct?"

"Y-Yes, but it's not al-

"You keep quiet about me taking it and the king doesn't have to know a thing," the librarian swallowed as the mysterious wizard's grin grew, but with little choice left, he nodded. "Good boy. Oh, one last thing," one last hand gesture and the shelf from which the first book completely emptied as the remaining tomes came crashing down with a resounding boom, falling into a gigantic pile of books. "You should get started on that."

And so, Mad Circus left, a very dumbfounded mouse behind him.

---

What Prolly needed was to leave the castle. The closed space, the lack of air, the same faces he saw every day, were already making things hazy; a change of pace was ideal to get his mind off things. Besides, his tasks for the day were pulling him out anyway, so he might as well go on with it. What better way to keep himself from falling back on his powerful arousal than keeping his mind busy, after all. So, one quick glamour spell later, he was ready to explore the town for a while.

It was far from the first time that the prince ventured outside of the castle walls, whether it was to attend his duties or to come across old and new acquaintances with whom to spend a good while, but no matter how many times he saw it, the constant movement on the streets was always such a thrill. Countless bodies headed all over the place, entering and exiting stores, greeting one another with loud cheers and, in the case of the guys, showing off the hard-earned muscles through the little clothes they had left after their sweaty mornings at work made them take them off for a chance at refreshing themselves, and that was without mentioning how much they seemed to enjoy a flirt with pretty much any hole that became available, and he was always willing to provide his own.

But by far, his favorite part had always been how much he could just blend in with the crowd. Rather than the renowned crown prince, future ruler of the kingdom and a powerful creature to be revered, all they saw was a small, lithe feline, short brown fur as unassuming as possible, in the simplest of leather vests; and quite appropriately, they paid him no mind, sometimes even bumping against him as his low stature made him easy to overlook. It was a fresh contrast with the sometimes stuffy air in the castle, where most servants would stop whatever they were doing just to bow and greet him when he walked past them, no matter how many times he told them it wasn't necessary.

Of course, venturing outside the castle wasn't something to do often. Even if their kingdom was a prosper one, crime was still present in the dark alleyways and hidden corners, and while he was certainly strong enough to deal with a few petty thieves should he ever run across them, it was always wiser to be on the safe side, hence why the glamour had been the first spell he learnt, and one he had spent years perfecting. Granted, a few select individuals, whether by the castle's approval or by his own whims, were aware of his identity.

He was headed to meet with one such individual. Typically, as he entered the center of town, the buzz would turn louder than usual, more business would come into sight and more than once he would end up bumping against some dude's nice chest, occasionally leading to some mild exchange and, if he was lucky, maybe a quickie behind a building. But there was one section of downtown scarcely populated, upon which people very rarely stumbled, due to the constant heavy smoke permeating the air, coming off the chimneys lining the street.

It was Smithing Avenue, an almost deadbeat location on regular basis, yet a mandatory stop for the guards, as well as any adventurer that happened to be passing by the town. Their kingdom was known mainly for the mother crystal, but it was far from the only thing it had to offer. As mining had become their main source of commerce over the decades, they came to receive similar fame over their weapons, armors or even decorations. The quality of their materials, their incredible durability and the dedicated beauty of their crafts gained recognition, and so, they were given their own section of town to work and live in. While the slightly desolated sight could make outsiders think they ended in some sort of backwater alley, it hid the hours of effort put by these master artisans, pride of the orc kingdom, and the hefty compensation they got for their jobs.

One house just like the others, only as tall as the door itself, was the place where the young prince ended upon. It was so unassuming that he had to double check the number to make sure he had the right place before knocking on the door. From the inside, heavy footsteps reached his ears, the glamour appropriately making his feline ones flicker, until the door was opened and a sudden heatwave, no doubt from the powerful forges going on inside, hit him right on the face, making him pull at the vest's collar.

Standing on the door was the imponent figure of a stout dwarf, almost completely round, yet the prominent stomach clearly hard, brimming with as much muscle as the thick arms or the stacked chest resting atop his belly, covered by a deep bush of black hair and no clothes whatsoever to cover him. His body drenched in sweat, he looked around for a second, leaning on the large hammer in his hand, until he looked down, no doubt an action he was unused to, and his eyes met with those of a young cat on his door.

"Hm? Youngun', I'm workin'. Come on the morrow 'n I be sure to let ye in," his deep voice said in a way that made the young prince melt, and almost turned his knees into jelly, but he still retained enough brain functions to respond before he would close the door on his face.

"Master, wait. It's me," he said in a whisper, only marginally getting the dwarf's attention while he looked around. Once he made sure the streets were empty, a single flourish as all it took for his glamour to vanish, and standing in the doorway was the half orc prince, fingers going through the tall bush of blue hair as he found himself once again in his most comfortable form.

"By my beards! Step inside, child!" he whispered and quickly pulled the young prince inside, closing the door behind them. Like all other houses and workshops in this area of town, there was a short staircase in front of the door, leading to the half-buried quarters that he never had enough of. Every time he stepped inside the dwarf's home, everything was completely different: this time, tons of gold and silver swords littered the table where last month he had seen dozens of sculptures, each one with their own little details, with different faces and all. On closer inspection, the swords were in a similar situation, each one with its own length, a difference of a mere half inch, and each one with a unique name inscribed on the blade.

Looking around, he saw similar pieces: Armors of different sizes, sometimes plain, others depicting scenes of great battles; shields that bore the coats of many different noble houses from across the country; and tuckered in a table on the corner, two of the statues he had seen, seemingly waiting to be delivered to their new owners. Every time he came in, something new sat on the tables across the room, the new work the master blacksmith was focused on, and every time, Prolly was left speechless by the level of skill he presented. No wonder his father favored him for his personal commissions.

The one thing that never changed was the large, black forge on the back wall, flames raging furiously within, the air around it distorting from the heat, and close by, a closed door that led to the master's living quarters, which he had on one or two occasions seen with his own eyes; a rare catch, the dwarf, but whenever he did get him, it was a night to remember. And yet, by the time he finished turning around, taking in the majestic sight of his effort, the dwarf was, like always, kneeling in front of him, facing the ground.

"Your Majesty, my sincerest apologies for earlier. I was not aware of your illusion. It is a disgrace on my part, and I will be sure it does not happen again."

"Stand up, old man," the orc said in a casual tone, resisting the urge to step in and help the dwarf up, mostly as an excuse to get a feel at his chest. "And what's with that tone? You know you can speak normally around me; you certainly do in bed."

"Not like yeh wou'd know, kiddo," the blacksmith chuckled as he got up, his scarred hands reaching for the black beard, giving it a nice ruffle before regarding his prince once again. "So, to what do I owe the honor?"

"That you do know. You received a request to craft a new adamantium staff for the head cleric recently; straight from my father, might I add," the way he smugly added that last bit made the blacksmith huff, and giving him the chance to see his chest puffing; all according to plan, just like last time. "I'm here to take it to the cleric's guild."

"Sendin' the prince on a delivery erran'? Doesn' sound too princey," Prolly simply waved his questions away, getting yet another chuckle out of the old man as he went towards a table tuckered away in the shadows, almost hidden behind an outlying rock. "'Re yeh sure yer up to the task, boy? I joke 'bout it, but this 'ere staff cou'd fetch a high price'n the black market. Make yeh a target."

"That's precisely the point, old man. This big, strong prince is the best to keep it safe," he said with a few playful flexes, despite having no real muscle to show off. Not like that was in any way a tell of his strength, but it was nonetheless enough to get another laugh out of the blacksmith as he came back, handing over a long object covered in a hand-woven white silk blanket. Once left in his hands, Prolly removed the fabric from the top half, and his eyes were immediately drawn to the pristine white formation that stood on top: four bars of the pearly material curving inwards before meeting again on top, resembling a lamp, with a single, perfectly cut diamond resting inside the enclosure. A single silver ring linked together the formation with the staff itself, engraved with a multitude of overlaid runes that seemed to meld together and move around the more he stared at them, mesmerizing his mind with their curious dance. He quickly covered it again to keep himself from becoming hypnotized by the sight, and his eyes returned to the dwarf with a glint of childish admiration. "Magnificent! Truly the work of a master blacksmith! Your work always makes me feel excited, sir."

"Kid, yeh flatter this ole bum. S'all 'cause I'm big 'n strong!" he copied the prince's words and actions, but his own flex was far more impressive than anything the little orc could offer. Arms bulged out in an almost exaggerated manner, veins popping all over as his chest pushed out, growing tense as he put pressure on it, practically squeezing on their own. Despite the royal façade he was trying hard to maintain, Prolly couldn't help but look at them and think how nice his dick would feel between them. "Hmm? What is this?"

"What's what?" the young hybrid's curiosity piqued, and he followed the blacksmith's eyes downwards, towards his own hand, where a furious red glare had started coming off the smoked gray jewel in his finger. He cursed under his breath and quickly covered the ring. "Fuck dammit! I was sure my glamour would cover the glow. Of course, uncle 'agg wouldn't make it that easy. Should've guessed," he finished with a sigh, looking up only to meet with a very confused dwarf. "Oh... About this-

"Is this an absorb stone!?" the dwarf's tone took the prince by surprise, almost as much as the way he reached for his hand, roughly pulling it towards him, yet keeping it in place with a delicate touch. The way his eyes stared at the crimson light reminded Prolly of fanatics he had seen himself forced to deal with on occasion. "These are s'posed to be extra rare! This is my first seein' one! Kid, what's the meanin' o'this?"

"I, um..." he wasn't exactly looking forward to sharing his experience from the previous day, or any from today, for that matter, but he had a soft spot for the old man that kept him from lying to him. Besides, even if he wasn't planning on taking off the ring to respect his father's wishes, knowing something more about it would come nicely, and the dwarf seemed to have some knowledge regarding the gem. "It's part of an... experiment. The ring absorbs energy and stores it, and then we'll see if we can apply that energy to other uses."

"What kinda energy?" the orc's explanation had done little to garner a reaction from the old man, and his eyes remained glued to the object. Prolly, on his part, ended up swallowing audibly when he was forced to share the one truly embarrassing part of his punishment.

"Se... Sexual energy."

"Say that again?" this much did get the dwarf's attention, and he looked up at his prince as the blush settled on his cheeks and he looked away, trying to put his eyes on any of the other pieces scattered around. It didn't take long for the blacksmith to understand, however. "So, you mean... You mean something like this?"

Prolly swallowed again when his hand was left on top of something hard and firm. A few gropes were all he needed for confirmation, but he couldn't bring himself to believing it until he turned over. Exactly as he had predicted, his hand was now on top of the dwarf's large, sweaty pec, led there by one of the thick arms; it looked so small in comparison to the powerfully built limbs, and he couldn't help himself from giving it another nice grope, getting a rough grunt out of the old dwarf as his fingers sank into the thick flesh, making his body tremble as a moan tried to escape his body. He did his best to contain it, but the ring, that damned jewel, simply shone brighter and made his arousal as clear as day.

"Oh? As I thought, ring gets brigh'er when yeh get horn'er!" Prolly silently cursed the old smith's insight... even if it wasn't that difficult of a deduction. But he didn't have much time to think about that as his second hand was brought to the remaining pec, a wicked grin drawing behind the black beard and his fingers practically moving on their own, squeezing harder at that magnificent chest, clearly the dwarf's greatest work of art. "Y'know, I suddenly feel like we should get to the ole bed games."

"That's surprisingly forward coming from you, sir," a very nervous Prolly said. He loved teasing the old man, and he was a regular guest in his night fantasies, but watching him being so into it was unexpected; he had no idea how to react, and unlike his usually confident persona, the sight of the shining ring on his finger, a constant reminder of his inability to get off, only helped dampen his attempts at some sexual banter.

Despite whatever insecurity his brain tried to focus on, however, his hands told a different story. While one roamed downwards, looking for that prominent belly, marveling at the curve, the feeling as his pushes were met with incredible strength, as the pure muscle beneath his skin was too hard to give in to the prince's touch, the other one reached around his shoulder, feeling the defined back, the tip of his fingers taking in every crease in the powerful muscles he could find. Every second of dedication to his craft was engraved in his body, in the masculine musculature, in the many scars covering his body.

He wasn't sure who pulled who, but at some point, the gap between them closed and his lips ended on top of the master blacksmith's, tongue pushing in, wrestling against one another, his beard tickling and brushing his face until it got shivers out of him. He pressed harder, pulled him tighter against him, until that belly pushed him against the nearest wall, until that chest pressed against him and his bulge started getting bigger, the two grinding against one another. Even trapped in the kiss as he was, Prolly could feel his breathing rushing, his mind almost shutting down as his arms moved on their own, clinging to the broad back, squeezing, almost scratching those exquisite muscles, and his own legs soon to follow through.

But once again, in a moment of bothersome clarity, the young prince recognized the bright red glimmer coming off his hand, giving the dwarf a crimson background as he his hips bucked forwards, his intentions turning even clearer. The rare moment when this delicious man gave himself to the orc, ruined by the images of his father flashing in his head, his disappointed frown easily killing off his boner.

"I really should get going!" he said as he pushed the dwarf aside, rushing for the door until his arm was grabbed back. The old man was thirsty, something he would've been thankful for literally any other day, but right now, his growing boner was being too much of a distraction, and not the kind he needed at the moment. "Really! I wish I could stay, but I have a busy day a-

"Kid, the staff," Prolly stopped in his tracks and looked around, his eyes quickly landing on the white silk blanket that held said object. A blush covered his face, this time coming from a very different type of embarrassment, as he reached for the staff, but at least he found something to be thankful for when he noticed the ring's light starting to die out... until a large hand reached over and grabbed his crotch, getting a pleased whimper out of him. "Tha' said, why dontcha stay? We got lotsa catchin' up to do, yeh and I."

"I..." he couldn't really talk with that hand on his loins; his head was too much of a hazy turmoil, pheromones clouding his eyes as much as the ring blinded them, and it took all of his willpower to not hump back against it. "I really have to go!"

In the end, his better judgment won, something his heated loins deeply regretted as he burst out of the door, staff in hand, leaving the old dwarf alone to listen from the outside as the young prince cussed in a manner much improper of a royal about how he forgot to put his illusion back up. The old dwarf couldn't help a smile as he stretched, going deeper into his home to ease the hard situation he had been left with.

---

"Dammit, dammit, dammit," Prolly kept cursing under his breath as he walked around the bystanders. Getting his glamour back up was easy under most circumstances, but when there were unexpected fluctuations in his mental state (read: when you were horny), casting effective spells became a rougher task. But that wasn't the reason he found himself so incensed; even if it had taken a while, getting his illusion back up was hardly an issue, and the same average cat he always used was now walking down the streets without a care in the world. The real problem was the way he had left the blacksmith's work: extremely horny yet giving up an excellent chance to help with that "Fuck!"

That little outburst was enough for the otherwise uninteresting cat to garner everyone's attention, and once the young prince realized that, he was quick to scamper away as far as his short legs would allow him. The last thing he needed was having eyes on him, not because of the risk of being discovered, but because despite his best attempts at extending his magic towards the ring, it simply refused to work, leaving him with an obnoxious glow that he could barely leave hidden in his pocket.

That's how, spell cast, jewel hidden and balls blue, the half orc made his way towards the edge of town, where his next and final errand was to take place. And going the same way was most of the town, their many conversations turning into a lively buzz leading towards the great gates. Even with the pent-up frustration building on his anger, the prince welcomed the noise around him, enjoying the energy his subjects unknowingly gave him.

Normally, while their kingdom was no stranger to letting outsiders in, it took a lot of effort and paperwork for them to be allowed; a safety measure imparted by his late grandfather, Prolly always heard the king say with a hint of bitterness. More often than not, the imposing gates on the stone face of the mountain remained close. However, once a month the kingdom opened its doors wide and for three days a gigantic fair would occur, where merchants from all over the land would set up store to sell their exotic wares to any of the otherwise shut off citizens. The king had, on more than one occasion, brought his family over for them to admire the opening, an event on its own, and Prolly was always surprised by the men and women that went as far as to camp outside their home, waiting to be allowed inside. For a single, spectacular weekend, the edge of the mountain resembled a festival more than a sale, with fantastic shows around every corner, strange food that made his heart skip whenever he had the chance to grab them, and more than a few rare treats for the eye which, with enough effort on his part, he could taste.

Just looking at the hundreds of lights and colors from each stand, the way the mountain's inner walls were decorated with jewels and flowers he had never seen before, and the music filling his ears, drowning the elated voices of his people and making his feet tap to the rhythm, but the bitter realization that his duties would leave him with no time to enjoy it today quickly made his expression go sour again. And to throw salt on the wound, a group of particularly thick contortionists started their show just as he passed by their stage, their chests jiggling as they bent over in almost impossible, appealing ways. He could actually feel the ring start to burn through his pocket, so he rushed through the crowd.

Among all the stands, one was tended to by a tall bull in nothing but a tight overall, his rather large chest pushing against the fabric, nipples barely covered, as he talked with the clients, offering bottles that were readily accepted and downed right there in seconds. More than one customer ended up with the white substance trickling down their necks from the speed with which they insisted on taking it, getting nervous laughter out of the bovine whenever they asked him for more, and just the image alone was enough to get the prince bothered. As luck would have it, this was exactly where he had to go; so be it.

"Excuse me," he approached the bull, getting a tender smile that made his heart skip a beat just once. "I was wondering if I could also get a drink? Straight from the tap," as soon as he said as much, the bull's eyes widened, and he quickly started putting away the bottles he had for show.

"Asolutely, sir! But I'm afraid you'll have to be my last customer of the day. Ladies," he said to the girls he was attending to, who curiously eyes the cat next to them, "I forgot I had something important to tend to, so you'll have to come tomorrow for your orders. My sincerest apologies. Sir, if you may," he said as his customers left, his stand becoming an empty spot in an otherwise crowded area, holding a curtain up for Prolly to step into the improvised back store.

Other than several boxes littered all over, the sole exception being a single corner where his travelling pack rested, the bull's temporary store was surprisingly neat. Large pitchers full of fresh milk, which Prolly knew first hand to be the sweetest all through the fair, and several mugs and bottles meant for clients to take home were the only thing outside and readily available.

"You're the king's envoy, right?" he asked as he pulled a box from the back of his tent, at first sight the exact same as the rest. "I have his request right here. Wasn't easy to get, I'll tell ya, but I always try to deliver! You're different from the usual, though. Are you by any chance new?"

"Not quite, dear," the orc prince said with his usual smug tone as he could feel the illusion actually fading off him, his gray-furred features becoming once again visible. And the bull's face when he realized who his visitor was came out priceless.

"Your Majesty!" the bull panicked, clearly trying to think what the best course of action would be but coming up blank. It was endearing until he got on all fours, horns pointed to the ground, in an attempt at kneeling. Certainly, a position he enjoyed in other contexts. "I'm so sorry, sir! I didn't recognize you; your disguise was different than usual."

"Different?" that definitely set a few alarms inside Prolly's head. Granted, if the bull had been unable to recognize him then there was no real issue here, but he had set his illusion to work the exact same as before, and not knowing what was going on didn't sit right with him. A quick look at his arms as the last wisps of magic left him were all it took: the fur on his arms shortened to its usual length, but it didn't change colors; instead, it remained the same gray that no doubt he had been sporting since leaving the blacksmith's house, and which was no different from his own natural color. In his aroused distraction, he had been unable of setting the appropriate color, leaving him too close to his usual looks for comfort.

"Is everything ok, Your Majesty?" the bull asked with honest concern on his face. The faces he made were always the sweetest.

"Everything is fine, no worries," he confirmed with a sigh. Nothing else he could do but be careful about it, after all. And he would definitely not allow that to ruin the time he had with the bull; it wasn't every day that he got a chance to look at him, and he was always a soothing treat; the only thing sweeter than his silly smile was the milk he was known for.

"Ah! I'm glad then," he said, and then the strangest thing happened: the two buttons on his overall came off, the whole thing practically flying off as his large tits flew out, jiggling like mad from the extra space they found themselves in, plump yet exceedingly soft and tender, nipples erect and so hard, they looked like they could cut a diamond. And to top it all off, the bull hugged himself, squeezing them together as he leaned forward, a blush appearing on his own cheeks. "B-Be my guest, then."

Prolly was naturally flustered beyond belief, his face turning a red as bright as the ring in his hand, which he immediately covered again before any questions could pop up. He remembered, now of all times, how par for the course this was; why one of the biggest reasons he loved meeting with this man was his willingness to offer his pecs for the prince's tastes, and he'd be damned if he wasn't longing them right now! Normally, he would already be lodged between those babies, but as backed out as he was, he actually had very little resistance to the stiffness that suddenly formed in his pants.

"Did I do something wrong? D-Don't you want them?" his tone turned nervous again and the large pecs were quickly covered as he stared at the orc with pleading eyes. More than wanting to please him, he wanted his tits emptied... Yes, that was one of the things Prolly loved the most about playing with him whenever he came to the kingdom. "What is that?"

"What?" Prolly seemingly got out of his trance with those words, and noticed the bull's stare aimed at his pocket, where the light was bad enough by now that it was making his pants glow. There was no real point in hiding it anymore, so he took his hand out and showed off the piece of jewelry that had been forced upon him. "You mean this? Not much, just an experiment. You're better off not knowing," he said that last bit with a sigh. "Anyway, I have things to do, places to be, so it's probably for the best if we don't get into anything too serious, you know?"

"A-Are you sure?" he said with an insistence that the young half orc had never listened before from him, but the way he grabbed one of his pecs, squeezing it gently, clouded his doubts in a matter of seconds. "I've been h-hoarding it... Thinking you would want more than usual."

A deep breath left the prince as he faced the tit. Of all the ridiculous situations he had found himself in over the years... He wanted to try it, to say that a few minutes wouldn't hurt, but that was the same kind of dangerous thought that almost got him when visiting the library, when that fantastic ass lured him in, and that was now pervading his thoughts as well. He could feel the ring actually growing hotter in his hand the more his mind pondered on the experience, on the memory, on the idea of leaning forward, caving in to his desire...

Screw it. One step was all it took to close the gap between them, and his mouth met with the jiggling, almost throbbing tit, leaving a few kisses on top, watching it shake from the excitement of being touched after who knew how long, and loving the way the bull tried his best to keep down his whimpers. It wasn't long before his hands joined in on the fun, swatting the bull's own and leaving him the only one handling that large, fat pec, kneading the flesh and hearing its owner start moaning from the sensations.

Soon, his lips met with the erect nipple, tongue playfully lapping at the fleshy nub, feeling it jiggle inside until his teeth bit down, keeping it in place and giving it a single nice tug. And before he knew it, the first squirt of hot milk pushed out, landing right in his throat and rolling down, the warmth making the prince's eyes roll back into his skull. It was far from enough and he started actively sucking right afterwards, getting thicker streams of the exquisite liquid to fill his mouth, roll down his chin much like the bottles the bull sold. Knowing that he was one of the few aware of his trademark secret was a nice spice to the sweet milk that was now soaking the large chest as he found himself unable to take it all in; the sheer volume was impressive, and he now understood the poor bovine's need. He, of all people, of all times, knew very well what it felt like to be full of white fluids.

But because all he was getting was clearly not enough, a still whimpering, still moaning bull grabbed his own pec and squeezed it harder, shooting further down the prince's throat, holding his head in place so he could have the ideal angle. He felt coddled as the hot milk filled him, swallowing in long, loud gulps, sucking him dry as best as his skills would allow him; as a royal, he was supposed to ease the people's frustration, after all. But in a moment you could perhaps identify as personal growth, he remembered not only the errands at hand, but the conversation he had held with his father and uncles the day before, and stepped back before the ring's shine even told him to.

"Tasty as always," he panted, wiping a leftover trickle off his cheek. "Sweeter than I remembered. Whatever change you made to your diet, keep it up."

"Is... Is that all?" how a bovine could pull off the puppy eyes so well, he had no idea, but they were effective as hell, as he was quick to exemplify. More than punishment, Prolly was starting to consider his situation as a test of willpower, as for the hundredth time today, he found himself defaulting to that.

"Sadly, I have a lot of things to do today. If it wasn't for that, I would go to town on those big boys," he had to bite his lower lip to keep from jumping at them again. His whimper didn't help matters, so he had to steer the conversation. "You had my father's request, don't you?"

"I-I do!" at the mention of the king, the bull perked up, his usual nervous streak winning over the thirst, and he stood up, pulling back the same box as before. All things considered, Prolly was grateful he kept his overall down. "Here we go, straight from the northern temples."

He put a crate between himself and the half orc, his large arms opening it without difficulty, and giving the little man room to inspect its contents. Inside was a set of four silver cups, each one incrusted with gems of different colors in patterns resembling angelic wings. Their surface shone like a mirror, and upon looking at one, he found his own face distorted, returning his stare. The inside was so perfectly polished, so exquisitely smooth, that it almost felt like water to the touch.

"Just like you asked, they were blessed by the high priest there," the bull explained while Prolly was unable to get his eyes off the shining surface. "Any water you put in is immediately blessed and becomes holy water. Wasn't easy to get, but here we are!"

"Yes, His Highness and the head cleric will surely appreciate it. In behalf of our kingdom, you have my thanks," Prolly gave the bull a small bow that threw him in yet another panic, and he couldn't help but chuckle. "That's the formalities off the table. You look cute when you freak out."

"That's a really, really mean thing to say!" the bull pouted, sitting on a box as the orc prince carefully put the cups inside a bag. His chest, specifically the pec that wasn't sucked on, felt heavier than before, and he pressed it a bit before reaching for an empty bottle nearby. "Here."

Prolly wasn't sure what to expect when he looked up, but it certainly wasn't the bull putting the bottle under his nipple and squeezing, getting a nice, hot stream of milk to pour out and fill it up while a low, pleasured moo left his lips. The young prince swallowed again, watching the big, exquisitely sculpted man work himself in such a way, picturing himself sucking that tit like a baby, until he was pulled out of his fantasy by the bottle being presented to him.

"For the road."

"Oh... Oh, um..." he really had no idea how to react, but the logical side of his mind told him to reach and grab the bottle. "T-Thanks. So, yeah... I'll see you tomorrow," he finished with a wink that made the bull blush and look away, all while he stepped out with his new loot.

Once outside, the young prince set up his glamour again, this time checking for sure that the color on his fur, and every other detail, were correct; he refused to move too far from the stand until he was certain everything was perfect with his spell. With everything in place, he stepped away, taking a good sip out of his new drink and relishing on the sweet, smooth flavor as it went down his throat, a very clear moan shamelessly escaping him. Somewhere on the back of his head, he noticed how dull the ring's shine had become, thinking to himself how he was starting to handle his urges better.

---

Finally, after a day of constant teasing from the world's part, he found himself closer home and to the end of his torture. The magical guilds, namely, the cleric and mage guilds, had always remained close to the castle for several reasons, the biggest one being that, while they were outside of the royal family's jurisdiction, they still reported to them as ambassadors with the greater academies outside the kingdom. Naturally, being the last stop on his errands, Prolly had gone as far as the edge of town and back, leaving him a very tired prince. The sight of the cleric guild's building was one he was grateful for beyond words, and he ended up jogging the last few meters until he was stopped by a pair of literal guard dogs at the entrance. He couldn't help but think they were reacting to his feline appearance, something he would remember to look into later, but once his glamour went down, the two knights profusely apologized as they let him inside.

The prince, however, didn't quite go inside. He stood on the building's garden, staring at the large white dome that reflected the light from the mother crystal into a spectacle of beams all over, blocked from the outside only by the tall marble walls around. He was in the guild's grounds, but a certain itch on the back of his head kept him from going inside. Of course, he knew what that was, and a quick glance at the ring's dim, but still present glow, was all it took to confirm his worries. Yes, he was in better control of his urges, but they were still there, very present, and there was something bothersome about entering what amounted to a holy place when he was so full of sin, a problem he had never faced before, when he was able to deal with said urges before needing to come over.

The bag hanging from his shoulder, carrying the varied objects he had been tasked with bringing here, weighed down almost as much as those thoughts. It was such a foolish thing to be stopped by, yet here he was. He only really moved when a pair of nuns came out of the doors, not willing to be questioned about his lack of movement; instead, he walked past them, receiving a quick bow from them as he stepped inside, that itching sensation never quite leaving him.

The inside had always been far more impressive anyway. Tall white columns, lined with golden idents and pearls, of all things; floors made of porcelain depicting legendary scenes from their holy scriptures, some of them so obscure, so shrouded in myth, the prince couldn't recognize them; light filtering in through the windows, creating these small areas that seemed sanctified places where the holiest of men could kneel and pray for hours on end; it was breath-taking, even for one who had spent his life surrounded by opulence, and he had to wonder how the many priests walking by didn't stop to just gawk at the marvels around them.

"Ah, Your Majesty!" a soft voice reached his ears and a young horse, with factions so soft that just looking at them made Prolly feel lighter, came into his field of vision. The way the white robes flowed as he bowed to him gave him an ethereal air that once again took the orc's breath. "Blessed are the eyes that rest upon you. To what do we owe the honor?"

"Yes..." Prolly's voice came out as a whisper, unwilling to disturb the otherworldly peace this place tried to offer. "I'm here to deliver some artifacts that the guild requested, tasks the royal family took upon themselves to fulfill. I'm supposed to meet with the head cleric," he said in the most dignified tone he could give, the quiet, almost heavenly aura exuded by the walls prompting him to act as befitting of royalty as possible.

"Important artifacts, I'm sure, if the prince himself is bringing them with his own hands. Truly a blessed time, truly," the horse continued, and the young prince stood in attention, taken in by the smoothness in his voice. "The head cleric, however... He's currently in the inner sanctum, preparing things for our daily ceremony. He does normally request to not be disturbed, but I suppose you warrant an exception to the rule... Yes, it should be fine. Please follow me."

The horse proceeded to lead the young prince through a long, plain hall, the grandeur from before slowly giving way to a more modest form of praise: the columns turned progressively simpler, their surface going smooth rather than the highly stylized style from before, and the walls were adorned with nothing but simple paintings showing less detailed versions of the scenes he had seen on the entrance floor. He remembered his father mentioning how this was a way to express the renouncement of material goods, purging themselves of sin on their way to praise the holy word, and thought to himself if he was being purged of sin as well. The ring seemed to say yes, at least.

"Here we are," the horse stopped in front of a simple wooden door, opening it for the orc to step inside. "I cannot go in before the preparations are complete, so we part here, Your Majesty. Do not take my words harshly, but please try to be quick," was the last thing he said before leaving, and only now did Prolly notice how silent his footsteps were.

His attention quickly went to the new room, though. Slowly, the door closed behind him without as much of a creak or a click, and so, he went unnoticed long enough to admire his new environment. Short benches neatly arranged to either side, each one leading up to a short window that somehow distorted the light into multiple directions, were the only thing to rest the eyes on up to the bottom wall, where a tall altar full of varied figures was located. And standing there, with his back turned to the entrance, a tall and powerful man in long white robes, the edges adorned with varied runes woven in golden thread, and short green hair with a few gray highlights around the edges. A soft, gentle melody left his lips in a hum, and he had yet to notice the intruder from how engrossed he was in his task. Prolly could stare at his swift movements for a while, but remembering his remaining tasks for the day, he coughed to get his attention.

"I said I wished to not be disturbed," a soft yet stern tone, much like his father's own, left the man, his voice deep and manly, not what you would expect from a man in his position. He turned around, looking for whoever had interrupted him, and the prince got a look at him for the first time in a while; a pair of golden, harsh eyes hidden behind a small pair of glasses, and the rugged factions framed by a thick, bushy beard that seemed so ticklish to the touch, you would feel tempted to touch it the moment it was in your reach. And to crown it all, literally, a pair of tiny horns jutting out of his head, almost losing themselves into his hairline. His eyes went softer when he recognized the young orc, widening slightly as he walked up to him hurriedly. "Your Majesty! My deepest apologies, I was not aware it was you. Please, excuse my crude response."

"On the contrary, sir. It is I who owes you an apology for interrupting your activities," the orc replied with his own bow, which the head cleric was quick to dismiss with words about how unbecoming it was for one of his position and breed to bow to him. Prolly tuned him out, however, when his eyes wandered a bit below his face, noticing the massive pair of tits tightly hugging against his robes, the fabric going down the curves in such a delicious manner and the large nipples gently pushing against it. Instinctively, he closed his hand around the ring, already starting to predict the furious glow it would sport.

Illegal! Sacrilege! Sinful! Such things came to Prolly's mind as he stared at the priest's clothes. How a holy man had chosen to wear such things, despite the clear indecency, or how his acolytes didn't try and correct his ways, despite surely noticing the same thing, he couldn't even begin to fathom. But even more than that, how was he, the prince, gawking at such a man with such lustful intentions!? In a sacred room, of all places! He had no idea if the heat he was feeling was out of shame, or if it was due to his blasphemous thoughts making him burst into flames.

"My child, are you well?" the head cleric wondered and he looked back up, once again focusing on the face.

"Yes! Pay it no mind, please," he begged, getting a frown out of the priest that he quickly ignored as he reached for the bag on his back. The errand was his top priority; that's what he had to focus on, not exquisite pecs. He was in control of his thoughts. And as he told himself as much, he laid the artifacts on the ground, carefully presenting each one. "I came here to deliver the artifacts that you requested. First, the White Codec, from the castle's personal vault," he handed over the book, the old cleric checking pages at random, tenderly treating the paper before the staff was given to him next. "A brand new, masterfully crafted sage staff. And finally," he lined the four cups on the ground, in front of the priest, "a set of blessed cup, personally requested by the royal family and brought in straight from the northern temples."

With his presentation over, Prolly stared at the floor, unsure of what kind of reaction to expect, but hoping it would be done with soon. His thoughts on the older priest were starting to make him feel guilty, so the sooner he was out of this building, the better.

But the priest remained quiet. When the four cups were taken off the ground, Prolly had to look up, seeing him approach the altar with all items in hand; the ease with which he carried them all said wonders about the sheer size of his arms, but at the same time made the orc wonder how he managed to hold anything against his enormous tits- of course, he was quick to shut those thoughts down as well. Instead, he focused on how the priest laid the cups in front of him, opening the book in one hand and whispering a short chant. Just as he did, the diamond on the staff glowed with a soft cerulean light, and he swiped it over the cups, which shone with the same color and slowly filled with glimmering water, each one turned into their one lamp, coating the room in light for a single second, before dying out as abruptly as they had started.

Prolly stared at the show with his mouth opening wider by the second, unsure of how to take what had just transpired, until the priest turned again, a beaming smile on his face.

"Mhmm! Everything seems to be in order," he stated, leaving the prince confused as to what exactly had just transpired, but before he could ask, his arm was taken in his firm, soft grasp and he saw his hand open, revealing the ring's gentle red glow to the priest. "Now, will you please share with me what weighs on your heart, Your Majesty?"

"It's nothing for you to concern yourself with, sir. Really," the little orc tried his best to play it down, but the old priest held him in place. His tender touch was surprisingly strong. And just as he was about to use his royal authority to get him to let him go, the remaining hand stopped him as it reached his thigh and slowly went up his leg, reaching and fondling his crotch.

Prolly was frozen in place. Of all people, a cleric was the last he pictured trying to make a move on him. Yet here he was, with his meat on his hands, and the more he looked at those serious eyes, the more he felt his cock being handled through the fabric, the less he saw him as a holy man, and the more he recognized the mass of strong, thirsty muscle hidden underneath his robes. The way his breathing started growing shallow showed him the old man's excitement, his own desires burning brightly behind his glasses, and the prince felt his knees slowly turn into jelly. The way he touched his cock, he stroked it through his pants was too experienced for a chaste priest, and he wanted to see what other things he was hiding under his title, until the bright red light coming from the ring filled the room again.

"...I see," the old man said, his movements slowing down, but never once removing his hand from the orc's crotch. Rather, he gave the ring a quick glance before letting go of the prince's hand, undoing the front knot of his robes and letting the behemoth tits flop out, covered in a carpet of grass-like hair, nipples already leaking a couple of drops of milk. Prolly swallowed, unable to move as he continued to fight off his urges, knowing he was about to lose that battle, before the priest continued speaking. "I assure you, Your Majesty, that I understand your urges. We clerics take vows of chastity to keep our reverence undisturbed by earthly sensations, but we're still men. Even the best of us cave in to the desire and engage in secrecy with one another. I see in your eyes the same glint I see on the acolytes whenever the thirst is winning over, so allow me to provide you with my assistance. After all, we cannot allow our crown prince to go unrelieved."

What on earth was going on!? Of all things, this was far from what he could've predicted. It seemed like the type of wild, forbidden fantasy he would come up with long ago, in his teenage years, when his hormones were in even less control, but it was happening, and he was frozen, with no idea how to answer to what was going on. The shine of the ring was the only thing he could focus on at this point, through the haze of arousal that the cleric's hands caused him through his crotch, through the nerves that continued to flare all through his body as he was tended to by such expert hands. Just the same way it shone when he had his face up the librarian's magnificent ass, when he was being touched the same way by the dwarf, or when he sucked the bull's tits dry...

"Please, stop," the young prince firmly stated, stepping away from the priest, his cock feeling cold outside of his grasp but choosing to ignore it and remain stern on his decision. "I want to, I really do. Sir, you're certainly an attractive man, but there's a limit to how much I can let my urges dominate my will. You might not be aware, but I'm essentially being punished for those very acts," the shame of admitting as much kept him from holding the tall man's stare. "Long story short, I can't really 'relieve' myself while I wear this ring. It's not a punishment I'm happy with, but it's one I understand and that I'm trying to adhere to, because I do believe it will help me in the long run. And today, before meeting you, several other men ended up feeling my growing arousal and taking their shots at easing me, but I rejected all of them. I'm proud that my willpower alone has managed to get me so far in this task, and I wish to remain proud, therefore-

"What if I said no?"

"Eh?"

"What if I didn't accept your rejection and kept trying?" and to emphasize his words, the priest stepped up again, reaching for the young prince's crotch for a second time, giving it yet another good squeeze, watching how it made the orc's breathing cut short. "Can you assure me that your willpower will continue to keep your arousal at bay? Even as it grows more powerful with each new encounter? Then, what will keep anyone from taking advantage of that situation? What will keep His Majesty's judgment from being clouded by whatever hand, whatever hole could ease his frustration?" before he could react, Prolly was pushed down, back against the floor as the gigantic pair of bare pecs landed on his face, pushing against him, bouncing and flexing around his head as the restless hand continued to fondle his length. "It doesn't have to be some unspeakable villain or force of darkness threatening to destroy our kingdom, or even an outsider invading force using your state to help their takeover. It can be something as simple as a merchant dispute, where one of them will earn your favor through your urges, and therefore you will lean to them.

"As you must know, Your Majesty, the cleric guild exists outside the royal family's rule. We're here to provide assistance, not to obey. Therefore, I believe it is my duty to inform you that I disagree with the king's choice. Rather than punish you for following your urges and train you to resist them and ignore them completely, you should be praised for listening to them in time and keeping them from clouding your judgment. Look at yourself: in the state you are now, were you of a clearer mind, you would call out my actions, claim them as the heresy they are, and take action in an instant; however, controlled as you are by your unattended needs, you allow yourself to be put in this position. Is that not a perfect example of how compromised you are now? At this moment, if I asked you, for instance, to raise the budget that the guild receives, are you confident you could deny?"

Prolly swallowed. Partially because he knew the priest was accurate, but mostly because he wanted to try and taste the musk coming out of those enormous, exquisite tits, which only drove his point further. The old man was right, his opinion was compromised; at any point, anyone could take advantage of him and guide his choices towards whatever was better for their own third parties, something he, in good conscience, could not allow. There was logic in the cleric's words, undeniably so... even if that meant his father had been mistaken. Then again, how could he be sure this opinion wasn't compromised as well? That it was his arousal talking rather than his head? What could he be sure of while trapped in this horny hell of his own creation?

The priest was right. His duty was to be clear-minded at all moments to make the right choices about the kingdom. He owed it to his people to go along with his urges in order to keep them from tainting his thoughts. That's what he thought as his hips pushed forward, humping the hand until it slipped through the hem of his pants and reached inside, stroking his length slow and hard. The touch alone, the first real contact he had all day, after been pushed to the edge so much, so often, sent him into a wild ride of sensations as his body started to get hotter. He leaned forward, sinking further into the pair of massive pecs, wanting his head to be crushed by them, the smell to fill his nostrils until he couldn't breathe anything else, and his hands quickly went for those nipples, giving them a single squeeze and getting his fingers soaked as a result, confirming his guess on their milking properties. He was definitely going for those jugs later, emptying them as soon as he emptied himself.

Then he remembered the ring again. Deep inside the crevasse that was the cleric's cleft, he couldn't see the jewel's light, but it was certain to be obscenely powerful by now. But he also remembered how, beyond being a simple light, it also kept him from reaching the peak of his pleasure. What was the point then, even of this entire act? But then again, if his father was wrong, didn't that mean it was part of his duty to take it off and finish? To relieve himself completely? Yes, that had to be it.

His hands left the pecs unattended, reaching for one another, fingers brushing against the silver-

"Head cleric, sir. You're needed at the- Oh! Oh my, um..." of course, Prolly froze the second he heard this new voice, muffled through the flesh around him. The old cleric seemed to have much the same problem, until he got back up, his massive chest leaving the prince's face as he tied his robes back up; curiously enough, the fabric fit perfectly this time, hiding his chest with absolute modesty. Prolly didn't have time to keep gawking at it, however, as he stood up next, turning around to keep some of his dignity and meet eye to eye with the young human that had interrupted their fun. "Your Majesty! I, um... I saw nothing, I assure you. At least, you know... You understand what I mean, right? Oh my god."

"Yes! Yes, I understand, it's perfectly fine, good man," he tried his best to keep his cool, despite the blush he knew was on his cheeks and the potent beam coming out of the ring, which he was only now noticing and quickly covered up, dammit! "I... I'll be leaving now, seeing as how my business here is over," he said when it became clear he could no longer save face. "Head cleric, I expect your discretion on the matters we... discussed," and before he could receive an answer, he rushed out of the room, with nothing but a serious of nervous bows from the newcomer as recognition of his presence.

And so it was that the young orc prince left the room, leaving alone the old priest and his intruding acolyte...

"Who are you?" the old cleric asked, and the nervous young man smirked as the white on his clothes vanished in a burst of wind, leaving him with elegant black robes and an oversized hat obscuring his eyes.

"Hmmm? Is that really relevant, dear head cleric?" Mad Circus said in a tone much darker than what he used earlier, in the prince's presence, and stepped up to the priest, hands resting on his large chest, trailing the cleft through the fabric. "Rather, I think the matter we should be discussing is why you were getting so touchy with our dear prince, wouldn't you agree?"

"Those were the king's orders," the priest argued. "Tease the prince. Push him as far down the edge as possible. I performed the duty that was requested of me."

"The way I see things, you were going a bit beyond the edge, don't you think?"

"I regret nothing, nor did I ever lie. I believe the king's actions in this regard are wrong, and that the prince should learn how to act on his desires to keep them from clouding his judgment at critical moments, not suppress them until they inevitably explode."

"Yeah, yeah, that's fine and all, but that's not really your choice to make, is it?" the wizard's smile refused to go down, but there was something in his tone that somehow expressed the frown on his face.

"Why do you even care? You're an outsider to the kingdom."

"Ah, you're right, I don't really care," he replied and fell back on one of the benches, looking up at the priest. "But I fancy myself a professional, and I was hired to ensure the prince keeps up his blue balls, so I'm gonna put everything I have on it. That means I'll have to tell the king about your little indiscretion, sorry, not sorry," he smiled again, until the same strange staff he had seen the prince carrying around half the day was aimed against him.

"That would be very detrimental to the guild's position, so I suggest you reconsider."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Goodness, no. As a spiritual man and envoy of the holy temples, I would never threaten another person," he said with a neutral, stern tone while the golden eyes stared down at him. "We priests don't do that; we strongly suggest."

"Right, right," was the wizard's reaction, and just as he said as much, his clothes turned into wisps of smoke and started crawling up the length of the staff, reaching the diamond and slowly coating it black. The priest's golden eyes widened, but before he could move anything, Mad Circus was already standing on the bench, arms hanging from behind the priest's neck. "Well, you know, I don't do good with suggestions, so be a doll and stop that, ok?" and just as that was done, he wisped again, and ended up behind the priest, already walking towards the door. "I was joking, anyway. I'm not telling the big boss about this. But only because you boys gave me such a nice show. I would refrain from doing it again, though."

And the door closed behind him. The priest stared at it for a second, only now realizing the rushing breathing, the trickle of sweat going down his brow and his chest heaving agitated. Once he recovered himself enough, his first action was to look at the staff, relieved to find it back on its natural white coloration, but he held it tightly, protectively, still staring at the door, thinking that the wizard could burst back in at any moment.

---

"Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts," he repeated over and over, trying to clear his head of everything; not just the last encounter, but every single thing that had happened today, out of his mind. Easily the longest, most tortuous day of his entire life, and based on how the mother crystal's light was only now starting to dim, it was barely halfway through at best. "Happy motherfucking thoughts, dammit!"

A passing mother covered her child's ears, no doubt thinking how such vocabulary was improper for a prince; and yes, everyone saw and heard the prince who, too bothered and tired to care anymore, hadn't put up any glamour. Not like it was necessary, this close to the castle anyway, but either way he didn't care. The only thing in his mind where those magnificent pecs leaking milk, waiting for him back in the cleric's guild, in that lustrous, holy room they had just for themselves, where any and all white fluids would just blend in with the floor, their sin completely hidden from any prying eyes... Unless this damn ring shone on them!

"Fuck," he mumbled under his breath as he reached the mages' guild, simply waving the guards as they saluted him on his way in.

As mentioned before, magical guilds always remained close to the castle; it was only a given for them to be close to one another as a result. Yet, despite their proximity, the mages' guild couldn't be any more different than its holier counterpart. Contrary to the pristine dome he had just exited, Prolly found himself in front of a tall, irregular building, with wings and rooms seemingly added at random on top of one another until creating a mess of large cubes, some of them with windows, others completely smooth, and from what you could gaze at from the outside, several hurried young men and women running around in a panic. A sigh left the little orc as he wondered what rare book had been misplaced this time, and the sudden smirk that appeared on his face was enough to ease his thoughts, if only momentarily. And so, he stepped inside.

While the clerics boasted of their pious enclosure and their fervent adoration, mages were in love with their knowledge, and their choice of architecture showed as much. Their guild could easily pass off as a gigantic library, big enough to even put the castle's own to shame, and even more impressive when you remembered that, unlike that one, this was with magic as their only subject. Shelves packed on top of shelves, to the point that even the stairs were used to put tomes away; and even then, several were piled up on top of desks out of lack of space. It was always an amazing sight, thinking how this intense level of chaos was how must mages' minds really looked like, opposite to the glorified image people had of them.

Unlike the quiet presence the cleric's guild had, this place was too much of a mess for anyone to really tell the prince was present, so he let himself in; it wasn't the first time, anyway. Only a pair of golem guards stopped him on his way to the stairs before they recognized him as a member of the royal family, stepping out of his way. As he climbed the stairs, he had a better view of the little army of mages scampering about in desperation and couldn't help but laugh when two of them crashed onto one another, their views blocked by the piles of books they were carrying.

The main building's upper floor was closer to an actual library, still crammed with books but also quiet, almost desolate. The silence, against Prolly's better judgment, made thoughts about his earlier experience and the head cleric's words bubble back up in his mind. Even if it had only been for a moment, which ended up being cut short, he agreed with his words regarding his father's punishment. How was he supposed to feel about that? He looked at the ring, watching it glow a deep crimson he didn't even know was possible, thinking about the old priest's massive pecs and how much he would enjoy having a go at them first thing the moment this bothersome piece of jewelry trash was removed off his finger, and what part of his brain refused to use his arousal to ignore the real problem at hand kept telling him the same thing:

Maybe Father really is wrong...

Of course, he quickly shoved those thoughts away. As the prince, he had to show respect in his king and believe in his judgment, skill and experience; and as a son, he had to show some faith to his father, the man who had always known what was best for him and who had brought him up to this point in life, even after all the screw-ups and skipped classes... But it was a different story when the deck seemed so stacked against his favor.

No. Enough of that! There was no point on thinking about that right now anyway, when he was supposed to focus on his duties. Even if his father was wrong about the ring, he was definitely right about his duties and the way he had set them on the backburner for too long. Rather than wasting time about the effectiveness of his methods, he should be going straight for the results and focusing on his class. So, he jogged the last few meters up to his uncle's private lab at the end of the hallway, knocking the door before risking pissing the mage off with his rudeness.

"Come in," was the curt answer he received from the other side, and following what basically amounted to an order, he opened and stepped inside. As the head of the guild, Gol'agg had his own office somewhere deep inside the quarters, but as part of his private nature, such an office constantly changed locations, and no one ever truly knew where he was unless he wished it to be known; therefore, instead of said office, he had procured a personal laboratory where he and his nephews could perform their researches, and where he could impart his classes in peace. "Ah, Prolly, child. It was about time you arrived. Right on time, excellent; you know how I feel about tardiness."

"Yeah, I know, I know," he said absentmindedly, not even paying attention to the older orc. His eyes were too taken by the room and the way books and trinkets flew around, rearranging themselves on the shelves, pouring on cauldrons of their own volition and just in general getting to his uncle's reach. It never ceased to amaze him with what ease Gol'agg could keep all of these spells active at once. "Say, uncle 'agg, when are you teaching me how to multitaaaaaahhhh..."

His words went astray the moment his eyes did land on his uncle. Normally a stern, modest man, with a marked preference for loose, long robes, the one he was wearing now seemed made for a man thirty years younger and thirty sizes smaller. 'Robe' was an extremely generous term for the flimsy piece of fabric draped over his chest, only half covering the big, perky nipples and leaving most of his pecs exposed to the sides; the term was sideboob, if the young prince recalled correctly. But even if that wasn't enough, his entire side was left completely exposed, all the way to the floor, with the ripped edge of the cloth only reaching down to the middle of his thighs, the exact place where the particularly indecent bits were concealed.

But the part that was really blowing the prince's mind out of proportion wasn't the front; how could it be, when the old mage had his back turned to him, too focused on his cauldron to even notice the pale orc's eyes glued to the broad, powerful back, barely covered by those tiny robes until they landed on top of his enormous, plump buttocks, kept high so firmly that he had to be clenching to do it. Prolly couldn't look away from that exquisite ass, mesmerized by the ability the mage had to push it out, wondering if it was through magic that he managed to make it jump out so much, or if it was his royal bloodline at work; unlike him, who had inherited his mother's petit structure, his family seemed to have a tendency towards enormity. But also because, on closer inspection, a thick bush of ginger fuzz covered the green skin almost in it's entirety, each little hair aimed towards the center, towards the valley created by that magnificent butt, calling him towards the treasure he knew for sure was buried in there.

"Prolly," his uncle's voice got him out of his stupor, and he looked up at the taller orc's angry expression. How long had he been calling his name? He couldn't help it, however, if he was too taken in by such a large pair of cheeks, especially after he had been unable to finish his playtime with the mouse librarian, yet another exquisite ass in his life, just waiting and begging to be pushed against his face. He had already been pent up when he tried his way with the little guy, so after that failure and a day of constant teasing, this was actually the longest he had gone without any sort of relief. He could hardly be blamed when such a distracting piece of meat was presented to him, putting that very same librarian in shame and luring him in, telling him to take a bite, a lick, a sniff... "Prolly!" ah, again. "What is with you today, child? Have you even listened to anything I've said?"

"Ahhh..." it was a childish part of his head that told him to say anything and hope for the best. "Something about the cauldron?"

"Lucky guesses will only get you so far, boy," was his uncle's crude reply, to which he could only wince until a sigh left the older orc's lips. "I guess your distraction is to be expected, considering the state of my clothes and your... situation," Prolly instinctively reached for the ring after that last word, and suddenly, the room turned a tad darker. When Gol'agg tried to cover the snicker he was having, he knew he had hit rock bottom as far as embarrassment went. "There was an incident, um... with my preferred robes, and sadly this is all I have left. There are others, of course, but I need this specific fabric for today's lesson, and this is all I have available... Anyway, ignore that, will you? Let us focus on the task at hand."

"Yeah, let's," the young prince said after zipping towards the cauldron so fast that not even the skilled Gol'agg had been able to follow his movements. Not like that mattered to him now that his eyes were down on the cauldron, exclusively focused on the bubbling substance inside. The murky gray brew boiling inside quickly became his world in order to keep his thoughts away from his uncle's delectable body.

"Now then, Prolly," distractions returned when the mage stepped behind him, chest inadvertently pushed against the young prince's head as he leaned closer to look at his potion. "A king is a figure of both, power and wisdom. It is your duty to reach in both those fields beyond what any of your subjects could offer. But wisdom isn't simply raw knowledge, but the ability to put it to good use. As a ruler, you have to be able to discern things with a single look. With all of that said, I ask you, what do you have in front of you?"

"Um..." Prolly looked down, his eyes wandering across the cauldron's edge, watching the silver, almost metallic bubbles burst before melting back into the substance. A hint of lavender reached his nose and something in his head clicked; a memory of a similar potion he had worked recently on, during his own free time, out of curiosity and enjoyment. Something simple... yet he couldn't recall the name when the rest of his neurons were set in flames by the massive set of heavy tits resting on his head!

"Your time is up," Gol'agg said, once again taking the prince by surprise until another sigh followed. "Honestly, Prolly. This is a quicksilver solution diluted in blind dragon blood. A basic poison that causes swelling through increased blood flow. You have been brewing these since you were ten, what's the matter with you today? Ah, right..." that last bit was more of an internal whisper as he stepped away, his chest finally losing contact with the orc's head and letting him breath back normally. "That one's on me, I suppose, but still. Letting your urges cloud your judgment is unbecoming."

"Right, right," he answered while trying to recover from the experience, all while the priest suddenly popped back in his head, his words another whisper in his ear.

"Don't be so flippant. Now... You probably remember this, but I suppose a refreshment is par for the course right now. Potions of this nature often change some of their properties when external factors are applied. Things such as changes in temperature or applying electrical impulses can alter the final form of any substance. This one, specifically," he pointed at the cauldron. "Do you know why it bubbles?"

"Because it's boiling...?" he was really not sure what kind of answer the orc expected, but the frown that appeared on his face said all he needed to know. "Ok, ok! Because... the water turns to steam and it's lighter than the remaining brew, so it floats up. Or something."

"That would be correct if there was any water in this brew," Prolly's eyes widened at that and they immediately returned to the cauldron, his curiosity winning over in such an endearing way that it made Gol'agg smirk. "What's boiling and causing these bubbles here is the blind dragon blood. When heated, the gas it releases is what gives this poison it's characteristic lavender scent, but the gas itself has a unique property where it breaks the composition of the blood's remaining components. Liberating the gas is what makes the blood react with quicksilver, making this known poison."

"But a different reaction would occur if the gas remained in the blood through the process, right?" the young prince never let his eyes away from the boiling cauldron, a spark of inspiration appearing in his eyes and making the ginger orc's smirk grow larger.

"That's more like it. Yes, by applying pressure and not allowing the gas to leave the brew, it continues to break the blood's components through the brewing process. The end result is a diminished version of the poison that helps fluids flow better, which is often used for medical care. And so, we have today's lesson," Gol'agg reached down and held his nephew's chin, turning his head over and gently tapping it when his eyes still remained on the cauldron. "Focus, child. What I'll have you do today is take care of that pressure. I want you to cast a simple barrier on the cauldron and keep it pressed against the potion to keep the gas from leaving."

"That's it?"

"Don't think for a second I would coddle you like your meathead of an uncle does," was Gol'agg's immediate reaction. "This task seems easy on paper, but there's a small window for the barrier to be put. Keep it too loose, and the gas will stay outside anyway, causing no reaction; keep it too tight, and it will look for any other place to escape; either your barrier breaks, or the cauldron does. This require very careful, delicate spellcrafting, something I'm sure you're perfectly capable of, if you apply yourself."

"Of course, I am!" the young prince pouted, and his reaction was all it took for his uncle to let go of him and step back, gesturing at him to go. That came out as a surprise at first, admittedly, but it had always been Gol'agg's style to let others get a feel of what they were doing. Too many instructions influence one's answer, that was the first thing he said when their classes started. So, with that much in mind, Prolly walked up to the cauldron, hands above as he started to mentally chant the barrier, will it into existence.

A reflective surface appeared over the potion, part of the light bouncing off as if it was a window, and he mentally told it to lower, its length changing along the cauldron's curves until it reached the liquid. Prolly felt the substance applying resistance, the bubbles trying their best to fight back against his spell, but he gently pushed down, and the liquid's fight turned more into a semi-constant vibration. A bit more, step by step, leaving no air pockets inside... No! When the cauldron started shaking, he realized he had gone too far. A tad up again, until it remained still again, and he knew he had reached the right spot.

"...Excellent," Gol'agg stated after a few seconds, and a pleased smile appeared on the prince's face. "You'll have to regulate it as you go, but this is the ideal starting point. It will get harder the longer you stay here, so keep your mind sharp, child. Now, I have things to take care of while you work on the potion, papers and the like, so if the need arises, feel free to ask me anything, but try to keep your noise to a minimum."

Prolly refrained from telling his uncle that he was basically contradicting himself, and instead decided to put every once of brain power he had available into his work. Sure enough, unlike the constant bubbles he was used to seeing since his childhood, the potion's surface was a smooth, lid-like gray cover, with nothing but very occasional waves breaking the stillness of the picture. It was soothing, unlike the bubbles that always seemed to give him quite a boost in energy whenever he saw them popping... And now he was wondering why exactly his uncle allowed a ten-year-old child to tinker with toxic substances. In fact, he clearly remembered his father screaming at his brother right after walking in on the young prince working on said potion; one of the few moments he ever saw him lose his royal cool, and Gol'agg was there, simply sighing and rolling his eyes, inspiring further ire from the king that spoke to him as a sibling at that time. He and Gol'ugg were a lot more alike than he was willing to admit.

When he had a good feel of the brew, confident that he didn't need to keep an eye on it at all points, he looked up to get a bit of conversation out of the old orc. He said he wanted no noise, but he was enough of a big softie to at least chuckle at the memory if brought up. But before he could say anything, Prolly ended up staring, of all things, at the same enormous, hairy butt that had received him when he entered the room, as his uncle leaned in front of a shelf, diving deep inside while multiple books flew out and around him to make room. And being as pent up as he was, it was only natural for the little orc to stare a bit more than necessary, admiring those exquisite curves and leaning a bit towards it, cauldron be damned, as if he could stretch his tongue far enough for a taste.

Until a bubble popped and the sound got him back into reality, seeing his barrier higher than before. He quickly put it back in place, but no doubt it had caught the mage's attention.

"Is everything running smooth, child?" he asked from within the shelf, not giving his nephew the chance to answer before he pulled out, turning to see the grinning orc still over the potion, everything exactly as he had left it. He didn't buy it for a second. "I understand I'm not helping matters, young man, but you should stay focused nonetheless."

"I'm not sure what you mean, uncle 'agg?" he tried, but the mage only had to point towards his hand, where a furious red beam of light was coming out of the ring. How the fuck had he not seen that thing!? It was blatant! It was so bright, he was starting to think it was dangerous.

"Fascinating," Gol'agg whispered and came up to the cauldron, eyes to the ring much like his nephew's own had been on to his butt. The same curiosity that plagued Prolly on behalf of his feline blood also took his uncle's thirst for knowledge. "It would seem as if your brain is reacting to the energy being expelled by the ring through some sort of haze? A sort of mental block? I doubt you're just getting used to it; just now it seemed more like you were unable to tell the light was even there until I pointed it out. Could it be related to the origin of the energy?"

His uncle kept talking after that, turning himself into a fountain of words, theories and formulas, but Prolly could no longer listen to him. Each excited word pulled him a bit closer to him, closer to his thirst for discovery regarding the ring's hidden results... but the only result the prince could see was the massive pec, exposed on the side, being pressed against his face, his head practically sinking into the green muscle, his nose detecting the musk coming from his pits, from the hidden cleft in his chest, all while that thick, perky nipple was right in front of him. Had it not been for the barrier he had to keep up, he would've given up on his punishment, caved in to his impulses and dived for that nub of flesh, nibbling on it until he got the ginger orc to scream for more. Then he heard Gol'agg gasp in surprise as the glow grew stronger, and the admittedly erotic nature of his voice as he did made his pants grow tighter.

The damn nipple was right there, so what harm did it make for him to reach, right? It was close enough now that all he had to do was lean a bit, take out his tongue and stretch a bit... Just a bit, a mere inch closer, and he would give it a single poke, a taste just to clear his hunger. Nothing-

"Ah!" the little moan left the mage's lips the exact second Prolly's tongue lapped his nipple, and he watched as he shut his eyes close, biting his lower lip to keep his whimpers trapped inside. Of all things he had seen so far, this was easily the horniest. Until his uncle started blushing as he looked down at him; then it became a tad awkward.

"Shit. I'm, uh..." he went back to the cauldron, stepping away from the mage's chest in the process. "I'm sorry..."

"No, it's ok. It was to be expected," the still blushing Gol'agg admitted, eyes wide in surprise as he too walked away, turning his back to his nephew for a moment as he let out a deep breath. "Um... These are sensitive," he said while groping one of his pecs, clearly stifling another moan. "It's not something I share often, so if you could keep quiet about it."

"Absolutely! I'm very discrete! Just ask my..." he stopped himself when he realized he was about to mention his fuck buddies and put them on the same level as his uncle. But once again, nothing escaped the orc's wits.

"Anyway, stay focused from now on. This is a toxic substance you're dealing with, so proper care should be your priority, not whatever your loins tell you."

"Actually, I've been meaning to ask for a while now, why did you let me handle these toxic substances when I was ten?" but all he got for a reply was a sigh and an eye roll, much like his father all those years ago. Part of him couldn't help but wonder if it meant he was more like the king than he thought.

Gol'agg turned around and his words did reach Prolly, who decided it was better to keep his attention on the potion. But after such a situation, it became impossible for him to keep his eyes down for too long, constantly drawn towards the massive cheeks shaking and jiggling with every step the mage took while grabbing books and reaching for flasks as they flew around him. Had it always been so delectably large? Granted, his usual modesty made it difficult to truly gauge his actual size, so this was a first time for the prince. To think of all the times he had been in this very same room alone with the man, with those enormous cheeks at reach; the things he could've done back then... and the ones he could do now.

He remembered, rather than notice, the glowing ring in his hand, and quickly turned it around with his thumb, the light now clashing against the brew's surface. Anything to keep his uncle occupied, his attention away from him, so he could continue to stare at that perfectly round ass for a while longer. Occasionally, he could feel his barrier start to give in, recovering his attention completely as he adjusted his strength, keeping it in place before his eyes once again drifted to the piece of meat that just pranced about the room. For a moment he was convinced his uncle was shaking his booty on purpose just to give him a show! If only...

"Damn," the older orc cursed under his breath as a pen fell to the floor and under his shelf. No big deal, Prolly thought, as all he had to do was use magic to bring it back out. Imagine his surprise when instead of that, Gol'agg kneeled on the ground, face to the floor as he scanned beneath the shelf, looking for the object. "Too many spells at once. When was the last time I actually grabbed something on my own?" he muttered with a chuckle.

But once again, Prolly ended up filtering his words and turning his attention towards the ass jutting out in front of him, cheeks so perfectly round, so exquisitely hairy, that everything around them seemed distorted and irrelevant. But it wasn't just the ass; further down, right there for him to see them, dangling between the thick, monstrously delicious thighs, was a pair of sweaty nuts, covered in red hairs and emanating such powerful scent that it reached his nose instantly, sending shivers down his spine as the smell stuck to him, to his palate, his tongue taking in as much of that masculine essence as it possibly could. And to top it off, the orc started grunting as he seemingly reached forward, hand going as far as it's size would allow it to in order to get that missing pen, blissfully unaware of the sounds coming out of him. It seemed to be a thing with the mage.

By now, Prolly was enthralled by the sight. His eyes, his mind, were completely taken by the roundness, the bouncing, the promise of that huge sack emptying from how he could treat it. He couldn't see, but the ring was shining so bright that it seemed to dye the brew under him, as the barrier pushed down inch by inch, giving less space for the poison to bubble in while the young prince leaned forward, his own thirst guiding his actions as he thought about getting a peak at the undoubtedly long, thick length resting along those enormous orbs. He was too distracted to notice the shaking cauldron beneath his hands, or the tiny cracks that started forming on his barrier.

"What?" luckily, Gol'agg did notice, turning over to see the trembling pot and jumping off the ground towards his nephew just as the barrier crashed outwards, the potion exploding all over them and covering the room in a brief, instant flash.

The few seconds it took for Prolly's eyes to recover from the intense light, he wasn't sure what had happened or what was going on; only several thuds and crashes reached his ears, telling him just how many bottles had broken in the darkness. When he could see clearly again, he noticed he had fallen to the ground, with the older mage in front of him casting a spherical barrier above the now empty cauldron, where the same bubbling gray substance shook incessantly. A pang of guilt and shame immediately hit the young prince as the barrier was undone and the liquid slowly fell back into its container, and it only turned for the worse when the older orc looked at him with a deep frown on his face.

"Are you ok?" Gol'agg said in a tone that very clearly tried to contain the anger behind his words, and all Prolly could do for an answer was a meek nod. "You're lucky the poison had been boiling for long enough to no longer be toxic. At worst, it's unstable. Still far from an ideal result, child," one thing the little half orc noticed was the way his breathing started going deeper, faster, until his uncle had to take a knee on the ground, clutching his chest with a pained expression.

"Uncle! What is it? Are you ok?" a very panicked prince walked up to the mage, reaching to try and help him up, a hand landing on his chest as well, where a warm, sticky substance covered his palm. He froze for a moment, his head going through countless scenarios, until he looked at his hand and the fluid it was coated in. It was white...

"The potion seems to have reached my chest," Gol'agg said with difficulty; the type of difficulty Prolly recognized from acquaintances trying to keep their moans down. And just as he said that, he gently pushed his nephew aside as he reached for his pecs, giving them a gentle squeeze that made a little stream of hot milk pour out of his nipples. "Must have accelerated the milk flow. And I hadn't taken care of it in a while, so they feel rather full now."

"Uncle- U-Uncle 'agg..." a very bothered young orc muttered as his hand started to glow yet again. "You, um... You lactate?"

"Obviously," was the curt answer, followed by another grunt as his fluid burst out of his chest. "In case you haven't noticed, child... I try to keep these things to myself more often than not. I must say, your presence here today has made it quite... difficult..." and without dedicating much of a glance to the hybrid, he squeezed again, a longer, thicker stream jetting out of his nipple as the flesh gave to his fingers like jelly. Prolly swallowed, his throat suddenly dry as he saw the ropes of milk fall to the ground while his uncle's robes and torso soaked in it, his breathing and panting growing more agitated until he looked at him with pleading eyes. "Fuck, they're heavy! Say, Prolly... You wouldn't mind giving your good old uncle a helping hand or two, right? Maybe a mouth, even? This is your stuff, after all."

"Wha-

"You're right! Forget I said anything!" and before he could even react again, he was promptly kicked out of the room, door banging closed behind him. "Class dismissed!"

Prolly stood there for a few minutes, not sure what had just happened. Had any of that even been real? The glow in his hand seemed to say yes. Strangely enough, it was his other hand, the one covered in the warm milk, that got his attention. And call it feline instincts or perversion if you want, but the first thing he did was lick it off his skin. And then instantly regret not jumping at those tits as soon as he saw them burst.

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