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She swallowed in preparation and stuck her tongue out and touched it against his sack. Much like the coffee she had this morning, the taste was as strong as the smell, though she would drink this flavour every morning if she could. Salty, smoky, and musky like her dad. She poked her tongue out again and gave it a slightly longer lick on the left nut, and then a longer one on the right. It didn’t take long until she was fondling her father’s balls with her whole tongue. Bathing them in her saliva. Lifting one ball up and down with tongue, she caressed underneath and pulled it closer to her mouth. With how hot her breath and drool were, the skin had softened even more, and she was able to bring one of his balls into her mouth. Her lips clamped down around it, not willing to let it escape. Her tongue swirled around her captive, and she sucked on his nut like a lollipop.

Should he do it? Just forfeit the match? To admit before the crowd that their prince was too weak to fight back? After everything that had happened to him, he had no pride left, nothing to lose. Maybe it was better to accept his failure and resign himself to his shame. Lying on the ground, he raised his arm, about to surrender, but stopped, thinking back to a conversation he had with Tarnas. It was during the year of training, the two of them sitting around the campfire on an autumn night. Seraph was staring deep into the flames, into the light and warmth, but all he felt inside was cold darkness.

“Here Brucie, playtime!” I called, his head immediately perking up from his nap. “Playtime, Brucie!” I repeated, and he scurried to his feet—I almost never let him have me twice in such quick succession, so he was understandably excited. But as he hurried over to Mom and me he ignored her completely, coming around behind me and trying to push me to the ground instead!