Another day of listening to the nobles' petty gripes. He can't help but roll his eyes at the very thought. Unceremoniously, Eli finishes donning his robe, forgoing anything underneath due to sheer lack of motivation. Just for today, the thrown-together apparel would suffice. Besides, what could these stuffy nobles do about it? Question his authority? The idea of them growing spines makes the Prince crack a smile. Simply put, it would never happen.

Leaving the bathroom and subsequently his room, Eli makes a mental note to chide the housing ladies later for their absence. He finds it odd. All the hallways are just as empty as the outside of his quarters. Perhaps some festival is going on? Still, not an acceptable absence from Eli's point of view, but it's the only rationalization he can come up with. Not missing a beat, the Prince continues on, the robes dragging against the floor in tandem with his feet.

"How utterly bizarre." He mutters to himself, more annoyed than strictly curious.

The sound of his footsteps continues to echo off the large empty hallway. The average person might be unsettled seeing the normally bustling halls of the castle entirely dead. But not Eli, no. Truthfully, save for his own inconveniences, the young man can't be less bothered.

Continuing his lonely walk through the hallway, an anecdote pops into his head, “You can't find good help these days, can you? Maybe fathers' stuffy grumblings have an air of truth to them,” Eli muses. He turns the corner, paintings lining this newest branch of the castle's walls. Grand battles and tales of old, brought to life by artists telling the history of Eli's lineage.

The young royal had seen them hundreds of times over. So, instead of marveling at their beautiful visage, he briskly walks past, pushing the large wooden doors open himself. Under normal circumstances, Eli would never physically exert himself unless absolutely necessary. However, the usual court attendants are also missing from their typical spots. The maids would get a pass, maybe a stern talking to at most. He could never stay mad at them. But the court staff would face severe punishment. He doubted they’d skip a day if his Father had been here in his stead! Perhaps he needed to make an example out of them.

Although, At this very moment, the Prince has more pressing matters. Readying himself to greet a mob of peeved citizens and nobility alike, he's instead met with abject silence as he pushes his way inside. Eli furrows his sleek brow in confusion.

"Hello?" He calls out, this time nervously. Walking in, he receives no fanfare or introduction. Perplexed, the young man takes a step inside. The massive room, adorned with glass mosaics, sits devoid of life. The court and its typical rabble missing entirely. In all twenty of his years, not once had he seen something that left him so profoundly confused. Something is wrong. Though, is it really his burden to fix it? The answer he settles on is a quick and resounding no. If they didn’t show up tomorrow, he’d simply hire a new head of staff. Easy as that!

While Eli wanders around the open court in a confused stupor, Clara climbs the royal throne. With one last burst of energy, the brunette throws herself over the side with a grunt of exertion. Finally, she'd made it!  No sooner does she flop onto her back than a familiar voice calls out to her.

"Clara! Over here!" Her head shoots upwards, and among the dozens of panting and exhausted citizens and nobles, Clara spies her wife, waving her over. She sprints into her arms with a shriek of excitement, embracing her. The two stay close, body heat radiating shared energy between them. Her face is as warm and as welcoming as ever, and Clara's heart skips a beat upon catching another glimpse of her smile.

"Hey, lovebug!" Melody holds her lover tight, rubbing her back tenderly. For the first time since all this commotion had begun, Clara feels like everything might turn out okay! How could it be anything less with Melody by her side?

A few hours earlier… the group of roughly fifty strong had lost their height in a flash. It happened so quickly. A wave of nausea wafted over the court, several clutching their stomachs in distress. Then, just like that, everyone was just… small. There had been panic at first, of course. They were shouting, crying, screaming. Although, eventually, people did what they do best. Planning, plotting, and adapting. They broke into groups, and gradually, staff and nobles alike put aside their differences and worked together. Eventually, the court's marooned occupants devised a risky plan of action.

Nearby sat the royal throne, a granite table top directly in front of it. The survivors seemed to generally agree that they stood no chance of rescue on the floor. They were specks easily lost among the dirt that had once been firmly beneath their feet. However, if a group large enough scattered across the tabletop, they'd have visibility! A chance, though slim, to be seen! The crowd expresses hesitation, though it’s quickly decided that danger or not, the table may very well be their one and only shot. But how would they go about it?

Luckily, the royal mathematician was attending court today. A lanky man stepped up front and center, clearing his throat to address the crowd.

"This comes as a shock to us all, but we must not dally! Lest we end up like those who perished within Lord Edwin's abode….” He looks off to the side, recalling all the friends he’d never have a chance to talk to again. Smashed by some drunken harlot! The Royal dignitary is determined not to let a similar fate befall his home. He pulls out some tattered parchment from a leather pouch situated along his hip with urgency. Carefully, he leafs through the notes before speaking up again. "At the size, we're no larger than, say, a grain of dirt. Put plainly, our size leaves us vulnerable. But we may yet be able to use this to our advantage!" He pushes his thick bottled glasses up excitedly. 

"The elevation of the throne is well above the table. If we were to say, use the ladies' garments, we might very well make it over!" He double-checks his notes before nodding enthusiastically.

"Yes, our weight should be minuscule enough that floating through the air should be a breeze, if you'll pardon the expression."

And just like that, their goal came into focus….

As Clara and Melody finally let go, they hear excitable shouts. Looking over yields quite the spectacle as twenty or so climbers have already eagerly set off for the table. They glide over, mostly naked, the majority of them either using dresses or pants as a makeshift flying machine. It's a sight either of the girls could have imagined in their wildest dreams. The light piercing through the stained glass hits the gliders, giving their ride a feeling bordering on the romantic.

"Looks like it's our turn!" Clara gestures with nervous energy. The two are still close, shoulder to shoulder. Unwilling to leave each other's side.

"Err, I dunno Clara," Melody says, unease in her voice, "You know how I am with heights!" Genuine fear permeates each pupil, piercing through Clara's defenses. Her vibrancy starts to shift towards gentle reassurances before a loud metal clang interrupts them, making the whole group freeze. Across the room is seemingly an infinite distance away, walks the young Prince himself. The nervous backbone of the crowd quickly dissipates, and the majority begin to rejoice! Cheers reverberate throughout the ground, the last few climbers joining in as they finally reach the top.

Hugs fly and Clara herself finally leaves her wife's side, running towards the edge of the chair in an attempt to flag down the monumental being heading towards them. She jumps and waves, others whistling loud enough that Clara feels they'll surely hear!

ThudThudThudThud

Eli leisurely strolls across the hand-woven carpets, muffling impossibly loud footsteps. He carries himself with the reserved confidence of a royal; An attitude that puts everyone at ease. However, the closer he gets to the kingdom's tiny residents, the more uneasy they grow. His footfalls get ever louder, the same vibrations shaking the ground beneath them. Several back away from the edge in fear they might tumble over entirely.

A glance across the fragmented group reveals unease. The Prince closes in, failing to heed any of their cries for help. Far too microscopic to do anything of consequence, Clara looks back, her eyes meeting Melody's. Worry is scrawled across her face as the shadow eclipses them all.

Eli leans back into the chair without the tiniest inkling of awareness. Several disappear instantly beneath his bare bottom, the curves erasing them without so much as a peep of protest. Any little sound that can be discerned is easily drowned out by the groaning of the seat he's putting his weight across. Not wearing any pants, his balls slap haphazardly across the majority of the populace, Clara's eyes going wide as Melody is thrown to the ground, vanishing under its immense weight. 

In an instant, most of the crowd is smashed into dust. Splattered corpses line the underside of the pretty boy's butt and the smooth contours of his balls. The once beneath his posterior face relatively quick end, popping like microscopic grapes beneath his wonderfully soft rear. Those caught beneath the warm hills of his balls aren't quite as lucky.

Yet, the weight of the two orbs isn't enough to finish most of them off. Several remain clinging to life, bones crushed and cracked. Melody can feel the creaking in each bone, her leg barely hanging to her body. Undoubtedly, this is how she dies. For a brief moment, she thinks of Clara. The life they’d both been robbed of. Tears leak from her eyes, glad her one and only has been spared from such an embarrassing fate.

Eli shifts in place, an innocuous fidget that snuffs out all remaining life beneath him. His wrinkled sack pulverizes anything left alive underneath, turning Melody and the rest of the unlucky micros into a mushy jam.

Clara's once strong mind breaks in all but an instant, her only loves life ripped away by the smooth sexual organ of the kingdom's beloved heir. She lets out a scream of visceral despair, dropping into a curled ball, a debilitating mess of emotions. In a single instant, she'd lost everything. Shrieks and cries ring out across the throne as Eli shifts slightly, revealing dozens of gooey splotches beneath the royal jewels. Screams of torment reverberate from all around as they grapple with the inevitability of their deaths. It's too much for any of them to bear.

Meanwhile, the young man couldn't be more clueless. Untold amounts of destruction caused by the simple act of his balls rubbing against the chair. Prince finds himself dreadfully bored. With no staff at his call and no citizens to hear out, how would he fill this chunk of time? He’d never had court be outright canceled before! The very thought is ridiculous. To make matters worse, his Archery lessons wouldn't be till at least late noon! He sighs, resting an elbow against the armrest of the throne, a closed fist leaning upon his smoothly shaved cheek.

Putting some real thought into his predicament, Eli happens to take a glance just below, spying about a baker's dozen worth of small moving dots across the table in front of him. 

He nearly recoils, "How utterly repulsive!" He says, bile staining his voice.

However, disgust quickly turns towards amusement as an entertaining idea, if only marginally unorthodox, enters his head. In response, he feels blood pumping to his cock, its flaccid form rising towards the very heavens themselves.

The specks below take immediate notice, and even the most broken of them stop to observe his manhood become impossibly rigid. Clara herself has never seen anything like it; his cock is comparable to the fiercest monsters in the boldest of stories.

Eli stares right down at the table, his full attention going towards killing two birds with one stone. Perhaps these insects would be lucky enough to see him cum. What a privilege! It's silly to picture the bugs comprehending the situation at hand, but another Part of him finds this hair-brained plan but another part of him gets a rush at the very idea. His cock grows undeniably hard in response.

The Prince's eyes never leave the shifting speckles of dirt across the granite top. Their features are significantly smaller than his careful eyes can ever hope to discern. Certainly not a bug he's familiar with.

Though, what they are doesn't rightly matter in the end. A hairless hand comes down and meets the impeccably stiff member. Carefully, it runs across the engorged head, trailing down his length. He shudders before picking up the speed.

Meanwhile, Clara finds herself unable to move. Her lover is dead, and her hopes of rescue are dashed. Condensation washes over her, droplets leaking down his sex from what she can only guess is from an early morning bath. Whatever dumb naivety she once had was destroyed in an instant, along with the love of her life.

Without prompt action, Clara knows that death is almost a certainty; but the young widow is in too much emotional turmoil to move. Her heart ravaged and torn asunder. In the face of such intense internal despair, she found herself unable to summon the will to carry on any further.

Suddenly, Eli's voice booms, "Mmm, we'll be trying something extra fun today!" His voice is smooth and charismatic. He lets out a one-off grunt, gradually quickening the tempo of each stroke.

"Sincerest apologies, but insects really shouldn't be allowed in here. In fact, I'll be considering some harsh disciplinary measures for those obligated to keep this room tidy!" The irony is palpable, as many of those very attendants sit on the smooth table Eli has his sights locked upon. Others, now simply a stain underneath his balls. 

He's excitable; the mere thought of exercising his birthrights in such a way makes the lust between his legs grow all the more potent. Collectively they beg and plead with seemingly endless vitality. An aspect lost entirely on the royal. 

The Prince lets his cock slap and grind over the seat's plush in all the excitement. It's a small motion that Eli performs with little consideration. Though, the minor gesturing is catastrophic for those down below.

Clara watches it unfold in horrific clarity. A wall of meat sweeps across the survivors, brutalizing them with efficiency. One after another, they splatter over his perfect cock, staining the peachy flesh. Closer and closer it comes, stopping right before Clara, withdrawing high into the air. She casts a wary glance over to where tens of people once were, to see only blotted stains across the landscape.

"Such a miserable life, scavenging for the scraps of those so much bigger! At least this way, you'll be helping out the greater good!" Eli snorts, hand running back and forth with a revitalizing surge of speed.

Without warning, he stands up, bringing his trembling cock right towards the table, letting the steamy slit of his rod waver directly before the shocked men and women. He's close. It's apparent to all, especially those atop the smooth granite.

The pleasant musk of his shaft has them cowering, its presence intimidating and all-consuming. Some try to escape in futility. However, several have long since admitted defeat.

Eli feels the dam break as the troops finally breach his inner castle. His hand picks up to blindingly fast speeds, and with a single dignified grunt, the Prince releases his long-awaited load. It comes out quicker than any of the microscopic humans can see, obliterating the first few it impacts into a fine mist, while others are hit with the force of an ox. Bones shatter, and most are thrown violently to the ground.

He continues to stroke as the last bits of cum dribble out, milking himself dry. Immense relief floods through his whole body, and the aching in his balls finally and mercifully relents.

Satisfied, Eli looks down. A slight smile cracks his lips as he sees the majority of the bugs unmoving in a torrent of his very own essence.

"Truly, a noble sacrifice!" He says mockingly. He fluffs out his robes with a yawn, leaving the mess for the lazy staff to clean later. Penance for putting him out to dry this morning. Now that court has been canceled, he considers the possibilities of his newly acquired free time.

"It may very well be time for a trip to the castle library!" He says with an air of excitement. The giant heads back towards the door, leaving Clara to weep amidst the carnage.