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Edgerunners 10

Chapter 0 - Ch0

Ana was stuck in her own personal hell. And not just because of the scorching heat on this deserted stretch of highway, or the long road ahead of her. It was the two arguing men accompanying her that were the source of her torment. Morrison and Reyes, her closest comrades.   To put a long story short, the three of them were travelling cross-state for a UN summit commemorating Overwatch’s global peace efforts. Unfortunately, their car broke down just a few miles before reaching their destination, so they had to walk. Ana didn’t mind the trek, service in the Egyptian military prepared her for far worse. It was her companions’ constant childish bickering that tested her limits.   “I’m just saying.” Jack cleared his throat, wiping the sweat from his brow. “You’ve been putting off maintenance for too long. It was only a matter of time before your car broke down.”   “Next time you’re in a hurry to get another medal, I’ll be sure to run a full diagnostic.” Reyes swore, narrowing his eyes.   “Not a medal! Just a commemorative plate…” Jack protested, as if that was somehow different.   “Boys.” Ana jumped into the fray before things got ugly. “It’s only a few more hours before we reach the rendez-vous point. I gave the onsite team a heads-up, so they know we’ll be late. Now, let’s just focus on-”   She cut her sentence abruptly, noticing a faint silhouette on the horizon. Aided by the cybernetics implanted into her right eye, her vision sharpened beyond human capabilities, allowing Ana to have a clear view of who was fast approaching on a real flesh-and-bone horse. Was that…? Yes, it was! But what was he doing here?   The one and only Jesse McCree rode onto the scene on a beautiful white stallion. The horse stood on its back legs and neighed like in those old cowboy vids, whilst McCree raised his hat high in the air as if he were posing for a heroic shot. The horse then rested on all four legs, lowering its shapely head to greet Ana.   “What are you doing here?” Reyes spoke first, shooting his subordinate a death glare.   “We got Captain Amari’s message and figured you could use some help. So, I set off for a daring rescue mission.” Jesse explained lightheartedly. “Funny thing… my bike broke down not far from here, near some fields. Luckily, this kind farmer let me borrow Silver over here.” Jesse lied, the unruly grin on his face adamant to stay. Everyone present knew he stole the horse to make his big entrance.   “Right.” Jack rubbed his chin with doubt. “You don’t expect the four of us to make it onto that poor beast’s back, do you?”   “I don’t.” McCree nodded, turning in his saddle to focus his attention on Ana. “Ma’am” he addressed the woman, taking off his hat and extending his free hand. “It would be my honor and privilege if you could accompany me on our way back.”   Amari patted Silver’s velvety snoot, giving Jack and Gabe a quick glance. No chance in hell she was going to stay here with the two of them. She laughed like a woman half her age and took McCree’s hand. She was in the saddle in a blink off the eye, her arms wrapped tightly round the cowboy’s waist.   “Now y’all best not delay.” Jesse taunted, taking in the looks on Morrison and Reyes’ faces. “If you keep up a steady pace you should reach the rendez-vous point in just a few hours! Yee-haw!”   With that, he rode off into the sunset with Ana, followed by curses shouted by the two men they left behind.   ---   Ana giggled, wind blowing in her hair. This was exciting, in a juvenile prank sort of way. She wondered if McCree came to her rescue just for the sheer satisfaction of playing Jack and Gabriel, or was there something else going on. She was aware of the speculative glances he was giving her when he thought she wasn’t looking. It seemed the rebellious young cowboy had a thing for older women. Despite her position and seniority in the organization, Ana was entertaining showing the young stud a thing or two.   And now, a perfect opportunity was presenting itself.   “Jesse.” She tightened her hold around the cowboy, lowering her voice to a soft murmur, whispering right into his ear. “Let’s make a stop past that barn…”   “You sure? I was lying about my bike breaking down, I parked it behind some haystacks nearby.” He said, making Ana almost fall off the bike. His tone was completely sincere! No innuendo, no playing dumb, he truly came to her rescue without any ulterior motives!   Should she then risk and make a move on him?   “Jesse, if you don’t stop this horse right now, you won’t get another chance to cum in me. Choice is yours.” She offhandedly said, causing the young stud to go rigid in the saddle.   He pulled over the moment they passed the big red barn.   ---   McCree admired Ana Amari since he first laid eyes on her, though he would never admit out loud to respecting any authority figure. The woman was a caring, charismatic leader who showed genuine concern for the people under her command, without coddling them. She was an equally amazing mother and a deadly sniper to top it all off. Jesse never felt chastised by her, he would go so far as saying he felt comfortable around her. Until recently, as for some time he felt a strange awkwardness whenever she was around. He had the intense urge to stare at her, but direct eye contact was too much for him to dare. He wanted to talk to her, but no topics came to mind. He wanted Ana to notice him, but at the same time was terrified of receiving any attention from the Captain.   Oh, and he jerked himself off to the thought of her more than once, feeling burning shame the moment he blew his load. As if by masturbating to her he was committing some inexcusable offense.   But now he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on Ana kneeling before him at the shaded side of the barn. In his wildest dreams McCree would never think she would one day have that hungry look in her eye as she reached to undo his belt and roughly pull his pants down.   “You look so serious Jesse. Relax or you’ll miss out on all the fun.” She snickered, causing his cheeks to immediately bloom red. “We’re just messing around, don’t worry about anything…”   Her attention shifted to his military-issue shorts where a sizeable outline of his cock was bulging under the fabric. The tip of his cock was marked by a wet spot of precome, clearly visible on the grey fabric. Her mouth watering already, Ana licked the sleek stain, taking in the musky scent only a young, horny man could have.   McCree braced his back against the barn wall, ignoring how the chipping red paint scraped against his bare ass. He breathed a soft ‘oh fuck’, observing Ana hook her fingers under the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down slowly, uncovering his generously hairy lower abdomen and finally freeing his cock. It sprang free from under the oppressive fabric, smacking Ana’s cheek, leaving a wet smear where his drooling cockhead made contact with her skin. He froze, expecting a sharp reprimand, but she laughed it off, taking him by the base.   She licked her palm generously, pausing to show McCree her outstretched tongue dripping with glistening saliva. She then wiped her cheek clean and placed her curled palm around his cockhead. Twisting her wrist ever so slightly, she drew slow circles around the cowboy’s pulsating tip, mixing her spit with his slippery precome. His ass and thighs went rigid and it was no surprise to Ana to see that he was biting on his lip. He was so incredibly cute.   “Is this good?” She made sure, wrapping both her palms tightly around the base of his shaft.   “Y-yes ma’am!” McCree swore, his hips already rocking into Ana’s sure grip.   “Ma’am? We’re not on a mission. You might want to run that by me again.” Her tone remained calm and her hand steady as she reached up to twist his nipple more as a warning than punishment.   “Ana!” Jesse panted, squirming in her grasp. “Ana! You make me feel so good! Ugh, Jesus… Can you please suck my cock?” He pleaded.   For a second Ana thought the bit of pinch and squeal might have been too much, but the unruly smile Jesse was giving her and the hazed look in his eyes reassured her that was not the case. The cocky little fucker liked it. She focused on the flushed glans bobbing before her face. Yes, she would love to suck that nicely veined cock. Sticking her tongue out, Ana licked his crown clean, taking extra time to wiggle her tongue into his slit to make sure not even a drop of precoma goes to waste. She swallowed it all down along with her saliva. He tasted so good – musky, salty, rich.   “Please.” He whispered from above her with strain. “Please, take it all in your mouth Ana. I-I really want you to.”   So horny, and yet still a gentleman. How could she not oblige him? Placing both hands on his hips for support Ana puckered her lips, slowly pushing her head down his length until his curly pubes tickled her nose. She let out a low groan, massaging his cock with her throat. McCree combed his fingers through her hair, conjuring pleasant tingling throughout the woman’s scalp. She bobbed her head up and down, sucking the stud loud, wet and messy. Her thighs and crotch felt hot, her panties and pants felt slippery and squishy against her dripping pussy. Soon, she’s going to welcome this promising young man’s cock inside her.   “You’re amazing.” Jesse panted, semiconsciously staring at the horse grazing nearby. He smiled blissfully, feeling like a million bucks as Ana Amari polished his dick with her tongue and cheeks, her warm throat wrapped tightly around his crown. “Are you enjoying this too?” He suddenly asked, looking down.   How considerate! Ana pulled him out of her mouth, then licked her lips. “Why don’t you see for yourself?” She teased with a unruly sparkle in her eye.   She pulled away, guiding McCree to step in front of her while she took his place. The cowboy took initiative with enthusiasm, cupping her face for a kiss. Ana, surprised by the romantic gesture, returned the kiss nonetheless. The way Jesse kissed betrayed their tryst was a dream come true for him. No doubt he fantasized about having her in a situation like this. Ana’s ego was pleasantly stroked, whilst she reached down to take his cock and give it a stroke.   Breaking their kiss, McCree buried his face in the crook of Ana’s shoulder, rocking his hips into her palm. He reached down himself, struggling for a moment with Ana’s belt. His hot, sweaty hand dived down her pants, under the fabric of her unnecessarily lacy panties. He breathed a strained grunt, finding how eagerly her flushed, wet lips parted under his fingertips. He cautiously stroked the length of Ana’s hot, mature pussy; from the overflowing opening to the hard clit.   “Good, just like that.” She whispered a praise into his ears, causing the hairs at the back of the cowboy’s neck to rise. “Put a finger inside me. Yes, now curl it a bit.”   She was so hot inside. And so tight, he could barely believe she was a mother. He closed his jaws at the side of Ana’s neck, risking another finger. She welcomed it with a pleased groan, pushing her hips against him. McCree realized it was getting dark. He wanted to see Ana’s entire twat before the sun set. Reluctantly, he pulled away, silently guiding her to face the wall. He knelled behind her, roughly pulling down Ana’s underwear and pants to reveal her ass and glimmering cunt.   God, she looked amazing. Her ass was nice and bouncy; firm despite its ample size, his fingers practically sunk into her smooth skin as he greedily kneaded it. Pulling her cheeks up, he revealed the tantalizing mound. It was everything he imagined it to be; thick, black hairs trimmed into a bushy triangle, her lips dark and smooth, swollen with excitement. As his thumbs carefully spread them to light came the tight, mauve opening.   “Ahh, Jesse.” Ana groaned, feeling his tongue test and probe her opening before it struck, wiggling inside her with zeal.   From behind her McCree gave a grunt, tasting a mature woman for the first time. She tasted so rich, so good. His prick twitched uncomfortably sandwiched between his bent legs. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He pulled his tongue out with a wet pop, flattening it to slide all the way; from Ana’s clit to her asshole. He got up, Ana already bracing herself with her hands flat on the wooden wall and her ass wiggling impatiently.   Jesse grabbed her by one cheek, taking himself in the other hand. Sweat rolled down his spine as his glans brushed against her entrance. She sighed, arching her back, inviting him inside. Jesse thrusted forward, hilting himself inside the Captain. His cockhead kissed her cervix, sending lightning up the Ana’s abdomen. They both let out primal, undignified grunts of pleasure. Gripping her by the hips, McCree retreated, then rammed his cock into her again, ripping another low groan from Ana.   No finesse, no talking, he began fucking her fast and deep, his heavy balls swinging with the momentum. Ana’s nails dug into the chipping woodwork, the woman’s head bent back in bliss. She moaned and groaned, clearly enjoying herself. Men her age were fun, but nothing could beat someone younger, discovering how fun it was to fuck a mature woman.   Especially if that one was the one and only Jesse McCree.   Cunt tightly gripping his throbbing cock, her thighs sweaty and slicked with her own juices, Ana Amari felt too hot and too restricted by her top. She hooked her fingers around her neckline, tearing the material to reveal her heavy tits. Jesse immediately reached for them for some rough groping, pinching and rolling her nipples hard enough for her to breathe in through her teeth. Ana’s vision got blurry, the fucker was too excited not to be rowdy, but God did he fuck her good. Like only a crushing stud could.   “Keep going.” She encouraged, resting her head on his shoulder. “Just like that Jesse, I want you to come inside me so bad.”   “Ana.” He panted, his balls and laps also wet from Ana’s juices. “You feel so good. So damned taught. I-I can’t hold on for much longer..”   “Give it to me! All of it!”   His palms clasped on Ana’s hips, pulling her back sharply. She lost balance, her cheek and palms slamming against the wall. McCree held her tight, his hips crashing against her rear, his glans nesting itself in her cervix. He let out something between a sigh and a grunt, ejaculating in consecutive strong spasms, flooding Ana’s womb with his young seed. Her pussy clenched tighter around him as the Captain came as well, her womb throbbing, taking in his precious load, her lips sealing around his rigid shaft as not to allow even a drop to go to waste.   They remained united and still, panting and sweating in the growing dark, Jesse’s sweaty forehead between Ana’s trembling shoulders. The horse neighed somewhere nearby. What time was it? It didn’t matter, they both knew they weren’t going to make it to the venue.   Thick, creamy cum poured out of Ana as he finally pulled out. She spread her legs as wide as she could, but some still got on her panties wrapped around her ankles. Regaining her senses, she realized she was going to ride back to town with her top and bra torn and cum staining her underwear and pants. Whatever, she’ll just zip-up her coat all the way through.   The two of them pulled their pants up, then sat down on the ground, away from the tell-tale white puddle. In silence they stared at the horse and the highway, stretching until it melted into the horizon. Jesse pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his jacket’s inner pocket. Ana accepted a deathstick with a nod. She realized flecks of red paint were clinging to her wet cheek. She rubbed them off, accepting the lighter, blowing out smoke through her nose. She promised herself she would quit after the divorce, but fuck it.   It was already dark, the only source of light were the tips of their cigarettes. They needn’t talk to agree this was going to be their little secret. After their smoke break, Ana went to get the horse, while McCree went to retrieve his bike from behind a convenient haystack.   The horse’s ears stood up attentively as she approached. Ana took Silver by the lead, tying him to a fencepost for safety. She gave the horse one last friendly pet on the neck before turning around to join Jesse on the bike.   The engine roared, headlights shone over the road ahead of them and the two rode off into the night.

Chapter 6 - Satisfaction

Brynjolf choked, barely able to hold himself together, inches from climax, yet obediently waiting for his dom to finish first. Though, the hand jerking his cock did not make it easy. Farkas grunted next to his ear unsettlingly feral, rutting into him like a beast, his length spreading the thief to the limits. His pace and grip increased, his breath ragged and shallow, betraying he was about to come.   “Come on, I want it! So, so bad…” Brynjolf groaned as encouragement. He was not playing, the words just came out of his mouth, he spoke them without thinking.   He gasped being shoved forward, then smothered by Farkas. The warrior practically growled, tensing up, his teeth closing on Brynjolf’s neck. He pushed his hips forward, violently ejaculating inside the redhead, filling him with his rich seed. Brynjolf moaned with pathetic glee into the mattress, releasing himself, coming in short, hard spasms, his come sinking into the sheets. His mind melted away as Farkas kept coming, filling him up with his hot load. Gods, yes! He hadn’t it this rough and good in a long time!   Stretching his orgasm into one last slow and deep jerk, Farkas jaws eased on Brynjolf’s shoulder. He pushed inside until he couldn’t push even an inch further, some of his generous load squirting out. The thief groaned in protest, immobilized by the bulk pressing down on him. Farkas murmured pleased, reluctantly withdrawing and slowly pulling out, his cum gushing out of Brynjolf’s gaping asshole, running down the thief’s thighs in hot streaks.   Sore, exhausted and sweaty, Brynjolf pulled himself up the bed, resting flat on his stomach next to Caye. He closed his eyes, trying to wait out the pounding in his chest and lightheadedness.   “What the fuck?” He breathed into the pillow, unable to recognize himself from just a few moments ago. Nocturnal… he was whining like a whore, begging to be fucked stupid. He called another man ‘Daddy’ unironically. He literally begged for him to come in his ass. And worst of all, he loved every second of it.   The entire bed shifted as Daddy heavily laid between them. Brynjolf jumped when Farkas’ hand gently rested between his shoulders, caressing his skin.   “You did great.” The warrior assured, lazily running his hand all the way to the thief’s abused ass. “Are you alright?” He asked, gently taking the collar off, silently signaling the game was over.   “I need a drink.” The thief groaned with strain, realizing how dry and sore his throat was from the deep throating and choking.   “I’ll go get the refreshments.” Caye said, once again her cool, organized self. “Anything else I should bring?” She inquired, getting up.   “Soothing balm.” Farkas requested, brushing hair off Brynjolf’s face.   “It’s right next to you on the nightstand.” She informed patiently before leaving the room.   “You roughed me up good.” Brynjolf grunted, spreading his legs so Farkas could wipe him dry with a handy towelette. “Was this your way of telling me to stay away from your wife?” He joked, slowly regaining his composure.   “I could bludgeon you. But you have a mighty fine arse, so fucking you senseless was more fun.” Farkas replied calmly, gently spreading the cool balm on the other man’s swollen pucker and cheeks.   “Do you two… play it this rough all the time?”   “You thought that was rough?” Farkas laughed, putting the ointment jar aside and getting comfortable on the pillows. “You should see what happens when she’s on top!”   “Treasure!” Caye entered the room with a platter of drinks and snacks. “You’re making me out to be some sort of deviant!”   Heaving a sigh, Brynjolf rolled on his back, accepting a bottle. The ale he was offered was cold and rich, just the thing he needed for his sore throat.   “Did you enjoy yourself?” Caye addressed her husband, pouring herself a mug of raspberry juice.   “Mhm.” Farkas muttered as confirmation, downing his mead in one gulp. “Was fun. Did you like it?”   “Immensely!” She exclaimed, her eyes glimmered. “I will forever cherish this night. Would you consider doing something like this again?” She asked laying at this side, offhandedly stroking herself on the stomach.   “Maybe. Let’s focus on us the two of us for now.” He replied, pleased to see her this happy and relaxed.   “I’m still here!” Brynjolf reminded, offended he was being ignored now that they had their fun with him.   Caye rose on her elbow with a sly smirk. “Well aren’t you attention starved! Oh, don’t pout, I’m only teasing. Will you stay for dinner tomorrow?”   “I shouldn’t leave the lads alone for too long.” The thief sighed, his thoughts already drifting to his responsibilities. “But I wouldn’t mind enjoying your hospitality for another day.”   “Splendid! We have mammoth steak. Though for now I brought something lighter. Let’s eat and enjoy ourselves.”   The three feasted and drank, making light conversation, relaxing completely until the hour grew late and they fell asleep in the massive bed.   ---   Caye rolled to the side with a soft purr as the first rays of sunlight slipped through the curtains to caress her face.   “Ah, Treasure…” She murmured tenderly, reaching to caress her beloved’s jawline. “What a wonderful dream I had…”   There was a low, suffocated groan in response. A groan Farkas would never make. Caye’s eyes snapped open as she realized she was resting next to Brynjolf. The thief laid on his back, grasping the headrest firmly, whilst Farkas held him by the thighs, unhurriedly fucking the man like it was no one’s business.   “Farkas!” Caye yelled shocked, abruptly sitting up.   “What? I want to enjoy him as much as possible before he leaves.” Her husband replied patiently, pulling out with a pop only to plunge inside Brynjolf once again, this time fast and hard. The thief arched his back in response, tilting his head back.   “You’re unbelievable!” Caye huffed, jumping out of bed. “Well, have your fun, I’ll be outside with breakfast after you two are done.”   She stomped out of the room, leaving the two men to continue. Farkas looked down at the redhead with a predatory glimmer in his grey eyes. Brynjolf smiled through glazed eyes, ignoring how sore and tender he was from last night. It didn’t matter, he wanted more. Against his wits, the thief hooked his legs around the warrior’s waist and dug his nails into Farkas’ back. Muttering dirty words of encouragement, he clung to the man until they both came.   “F-fuuck…!” Brynjolf stuttered as he went numb under Farkas, his own cum staining his stomach and chest. “Mercy, I can’t take no more.”   The warrior withdrew, his morning cum lazily spilling out of the thief. “You’re alright… for a criminal.” He judged, getting out of bed. “But seriously, if you ever try to make a move on my wife, I’ll rip your heart out and eat it.” He warned, for a second exposing his uncannily large canines in an unsettling wolfish grin.   “I hear you.” Brynjolf panted, reaching for the towelette to wipe himself dry.   ---   “Such a fine day.” Caye sighed pleased, tucking behind her ear a strand of hair that somehow slipped out of her braid.   She nodded, content with how she arranged the table and sat down, awaiting for the two to be done with their morning tryst and come join her for breakfast. She adjusted the folds of her fresh dress and poured herself her favorite morning tea, admiring the view from the porch. The lake glimmered in the distance, illuminated by the morning sun. Somewhere nearby a bird sang, a woodpecker echoed throughout the forest.   Life was good.   Her husband closed the door behind him, unhurriedly approaching. Perspiring, naked and disheveled he looked completely satisfied after the night of debauchery.   “Morning, love.” He muttered tenderly, leaning to kiss her on the cheek.   “You smell like sweat and mead.” Caye crinkled her nose, raising her gilded cup to mask the smell with the aroma of lemon and chamomile.   “Mhm. And I had a lot of fun getting this sweaty.” He grinned, snatching a sweetroll from the table. “I’m off for a swim in the lake, don’t wait up for me. Do you want me to catch you anything?”   “Some salmon would be nice.” She requested with a smirk.   “Sure thing. I heard there’s a travelling bard staying in Falkreath. Talsgar… something, something… ah never mind, I never remember the names bards give themselves. Anyway, do you want to go to the inn in the evening to hear him sing?” He proposed lightheartedly.   “I’d love to!” She said enthusiastically, feeling her heart swell with affection for her man.   She drank her brew, following his slowly shrinking silhouette with her loving gaze. Azura, she did not deserve someone this kind and patient.   A few moments later Brynjolf emerged from the house, dressed only in his pants and hastily flung on jacket. Caye smirked, dipping her lips in her tea, gesturing at the chair she laid out for him with a soft cushion. The thief cautiously sat down, cleared his throat and fished out of his pocket a beautifully crafted pipe, a trinket he stole from an arrogant noble years ago.   “Are you really going to smoke before eating?” Caye asked, shooting him a disapproving look.   “I always smoke before breakfast. Do you mind?” He asked, the pipe already between his teeth as he hopelessly searched through his pockets for his flint.   “I do. But that’s not going to stop you.” She sighed, snapping her fingers to conjure a weak flame between her fingers.   “Thanks.” He muttered, shifting closer, avoiding looking her in the eyes.   He bent back in the chair, inhaling slow and deep, then exhaling thick aromatic smoke through his nose. He admired the view, though the look on his profile was far from tranquil. Caye knew exactly what was eating him.   “If you’re thinking about what happened and what was said last night, then rest assured. This will stay between the three of us.” She assured respectfully, when the silence drew awkwardly long. “Although, I’ll never forget this experience.” She smiled sweetly, remembering the sounds Brynjolf made and how he reacted to being dommed by Farkas.   “Yeah, I’m sure you had your fun watching me squirm.” He muttered, focusing his eyes on the smoking tip of the pipe. There was a silent grievance hanging in the air between them and he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to address it.   “What is that frown I see? Did you not have fun?” Caye asked, leaning over the table, her black eyes studying her friend’s slightest movement.   “You had me convinced I’d have you as well.” He spoke, crossing his arms, not bothering with hiding the disappointment in his tone.   “No. I simply asked if you were still interested in sleeping with me. I made no promises about offering myself to you. You’re just so used to getting whatever you want from people, that you assumed you could indulge in both me and Farkas.”   “I feel cheated.” Brynjolf complained, angry at himself for believing something that was too good to be true.   “Bryn… you thought you could just have sex with me right in front of my husband? Are you this confident in your charm or that daft?” Caye sighed, shaking her head.   He puffed another cloud of smoke for a second obstructing his entire face. “Fine, fine. I guess I was leading myself on, score for you.” He confessed frustrated. “But I can’t shake off the feeling there was more to last night. Why did you really invite me?”   “I told you. We wanted to experiment before settling down.” The elf replied smoothly. Too smoothly to be speaking the truth.   “I know you. You always have more than just one angle. Come on, just tell me.” He insisted, piercing her with those green eyes.   Caye’s nose crinkled ever so slightly. Carefully, she put her cup away, preparing for a longer conversation. Yes, this was a good time to address some issues and clear the air between them.   “Fine. Aside from helping my husband indulge in his curiosity I also wanted to tease you a bit. And to help you with your own problems. Firstly, by offering you a nice, lewd getaway from your work. And secondly, to help ease the infatuation you have with me. Now,” she raised her palm to silence his immediate protest. “I know you’re not losing any sleep because of me. But I know that the curiosity of what would happen if you hadn’t fallen asleep in a drunken stupor that night is eating at you. So, I gave you a substitute. You didn’t get to sleep with me, but got to see me in a more intimate setting. You have wildly nimble fingers, by the way.” She smiled, blushing barely noticeably.   With that, she poured herself another cup of tea, allowing Brynjolf to process her words. The thief put out his pipe, reaching for the food. He ate slowly, trying to indulge in the taste of the divine treats he was served, but instead his thoughts drifted to how things could have turned out differently.   “Do you ever wonder what would happen if we would spend that night together and if you’d stayed in Riften by my side? Not as lovers necessarily, but as partners in crime?” He asked on impulse, lifting his gaze form his plate to look into her eyes.   “No, because I know the answer.” Caye calmly shot down his question. “I’m over one-hundred years old, I know myself. And I know you. We would elevate the Guild beyond your wildest dreams, because we work incredibly well together. But you wouldn’t like my methods. We would constantly butt heads and you’d slowly grow to resent me. Trust me, I would make you utterly miserable. And that’s the last thing I’d want…” She shuffled her chair closer, so that she could put her hand over his. “You’re my friend. You’re dear to me and I care for you, even if my affection is not of the romantic type.”   “He doesn’t seem miserable.” Brynjolf pressed, pointing his chin at the lake. In the distance Farkas was energetically swimming in the shimmering water like a man with no care in the world. The thief bit down on his pipe, gaze following the distant silhouette. He would have never guessed that man was hiding such raw sexual energy underneath his calm everyday self.     Caye looked away, for a moment struggling whether she should bare her heart in front of her friend.   “He’s different.” She confessed quietly. “I’m… honest with him. He made me grew a damn conscience, I’m incapable of lying to him. He actually makes me feel some shade of remorse for all my illicit habits. Me! I have no idea how he did it, but he completely disarmed me. And he didn’t even try!” She huffed, raising her arms into the air.   “You’re hopelessly in love lass.” Brynjolf said with affectionate amusement, his characteristic smug smirk back.   “Oh, shut up. Next time you try to give me lip I’ll remind you what you called my husband and how you practically begged him to mount you.”   “Hey! Be nice to me.” The thief warned, raising his finger.   “Or else what?” She smirked with dare.   “Or else I’m going to seduce your husband and run away with him.”

Chapter 0 - 0

Stars twinkled past the glass ceiling above Shepard’s bed. The Commander laid motionlessly in her pristine white sheets, staring at them for the past… Shit, what time was it?   “EDI, what’s our ETA?” She asked, sitting up, overtaken by sudden anxiety.   The ship AI’s holographic avatar instantly appeared on the nightstand display to her right. “Three more hours before we reach the Omega-4 Relay, Shepard.” EDI reported in her trademark matter-of fact tone. “Do you need me to arrange anything for you in the meantime?”   “I’m good, thanks.”   The blue hologram vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving the Commander alone with her thoughts. Three hours until they reach the Relay. Three hours before their suicide mission. Shepard’s feet rested on the soft acrylic fiber carpet. She exhaled a tired sigh, resting her forehead on her folded hands.  She was never uncertain or anxious during a mission, that always came to torture her before. She hated that feeling. She could use a walk, but the Normandy offered little in terms of tranquil scenery. She could also use a stiff drink, but she needed her mid sharp for the most important mission of her life. And… possibly her last.   She rubbed her thighs together, realizing she could also use a good fuck. There were several people on the ship, who would kill for a chance to sleep with her, but a hookup was out of the question. As frustrated as she was from lack of genuine intimacy, she was too principled to resort to fraternization. She was the Commanding Officer, she had to stay professional and pretend to ignore the candid looks she was getting from her crewmates – from the low-ranking engineers to her closest squadmates. Some of said looks were full of admiration, some tender and affectionate and some shamelessly lewd. Come to think of it, the overwhelming majority of them were of the lewd kind, and Shepard wasn’t sure how to feel about that.   “So, masturbation it is.” She quietly muttered, getting up to go take a hot shower and blow off some steam.   The bathroom’s automated doors closed behind her without the faintest sound. Quickly, Shepard took off her crew uniform and underwear. Cerberus had several advantages over the Alliance in terms of comfort and equipment, one of them being the softest, most snug underwear she had ever worn in her military career.   Stark naked and frustrated, she entered the shower. She pressed a few buttons on the digital display, setting the right temperature. Hot water poured on her head and body in a high-pressure cascade, filling the small room with steam. Now did she realize how tense her shoulders were. She reached for the bottle of shower gel, generously lathering her hands and letting them wander her perfectly toned body to work out the kinks accumulated in her muscles.   A quiet ‘mmm’ escaped her mouth when her hands slid down her neckline and chest, pausing to cup her breasts. She gave herself a not so gentle massage, then pinched and tugged her nipples, realizing how thick and tender they were. Yeah, it was a while since she gave herself some attention. Supporting her back against the wall, she slid her legs apart. Slowly, her hands went down her flat stomach, past the finely trimmed strip below the navel. Her lips parted as her hands went lower, her fingers stroking, rubbing and prodding…   “Ahh… fuck.” She whispered, testing how many fingers she could push inside without much preparation. Two, but with a little bit more work she could fit in three.   “Shepard” EDI’s voice sounded in the tight quarters, startling the Commander, “you have a visit request from Justicar Samara.”   “Wha-now?!” The Commander grunted, pulling her fingers out of her wanting pussy. “Let her in and tell her I’ll be right with her!”   Quickly, Shepard shut the water off and walked out the shower, scrambling around the bathroom for her clothes. Why was Samara visiting her? The Justicar rarely left her favorite meditation spot at the observation deck. Did something happen?   Wet and with her clothes flung on haphazardly, the Commander stepped out of the bathroom and practically slammed into the Asari’s back, as Samara was standing tall and still before the impressive fish tank, observing the colorful fish Shepard had collected over the past weeks.   “It seems I have interrupted you.” Samara greeted, unaffected by the impact. She turned around to face the hostess, her spiritual face inscrutable. “I apologize.”   “No need to be sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone.” Shepard smiled awkwardly, instantly lost in the Justicar’s big, pale-blue eyes. “Did you need anything?”   “I believe you are the one in need Shepard.” Samara stated, resting her slender, yet powerful hand on the Commander’s shoulder. “I came here to offer you my aid.”   Shepard bit down on her lower lip, instantly embarrassed by her own reaction. Although their cultures were drastically different, she was fascinated by the Justicar Order. More so, buy the Justicar herself. She respected and quietly admired Samara, the Asari was as honorable as she was deadly, driven to the point of possibly being a madwoman. And incredibly sexy in the cool, dangerous way she carried herself.   “Samara, you already gave me more aid than you could imagine, you’re a valuable asset to my crew, you-”   “Shepard, please.” The Justicar shook her head ever so slightly, causing Shepard to instantly cease her meaningless babbling. “I come here not as a crewmate, but as a friend.” She stepped to the side, gesturing at the Commander’s living quarters. “May we sit down and talk?”   Feeling her mouth dry, Shepard nodded, too hot under the collar to focus on forming words. Shit, shit, shit! Samara always made her a bit uneasy. Not because of the fact she could kill her in a heartbeat without as much as breaking a sweat, no. The Commander was hopelessly infatuated with the noble warrior, and whenever she was alone with her, she had the irrational fear, that Samara somehow knew.   “So… do you want a drink?” She asked, ignoring the way Samara’s impressive tits bounced under her tight bodysuit, when they both sat town at the cushy leather couch.   “The Justicar Code forbids the consumption of alcohol.” Samara explained calmly.   “Right, so…” Shepard rubbed the back of her head, desperately trying to keep her breathing regular. “What did you want to help me with?”   “I would like to offer you sexual pleasure, Shepard.”   Heat flashed through the Commander’s face. Did she hear that right? Of course she did, Samara was not the one to make jokes. The amazing Justicar just offered to sleep with her! Oh God, this wasn’t a dream, it was a dream come true, but what about their friendship? What about Samara’s Oath? What prompted this unexpected offer?   “Samara, I am flattered, really. I-I’m more than flattered, you are…” Shepard gulped, nervously rubbing her hands. “You are everything I could ever want in a woman! B-but you must understand, I can’t fraternize with my crew. If word got out…”   “Shepard, this is not fraternization.” Samara explained patiently, with a hint of a smirk on her dark lips. Her hand rested on the Commander’s lap, sending lightning bolts up the human’s abdomen. “I’m a Justicar, rank means nothing to me. And speaking of being a Justicar and honoring my Oath to you, don’t forget I swore to serve and aid you in whatever way I can. You saw my full combat prowess, but now I wish to provide you with some comfort.”   She leaned closer, her thigh rubbing against Shepard’s. Overwhelmed by so many feelings, the Commander stared into the Justicar’s icy eyes, growing redder in the face with each passing second.   “Breathe, Shepard.” Samara reminded calmly, to which the Commander inhaled sharply. “I am not offering to be your Bondmate, if that is that you are worried about. My Oath expires the moment we defeat the Collectors. But in order to assure our victory, you need to rid yourself of all distractions, just like you helped me get rid of mine.”   “Morinth.”   “Exactly. You…” for a second a frown flashed through Samara’s normally tranquil face, “you helped me with something deeply personal, and I will never forget that. And aside from my own personal distractions, I witnessed you help so many people completely unprompted. You are a paragon and I am honored to call you my ally, which is why I am offering you my company.”   “I’ve been a good girl?” Shepard joked, finally managing to control her breathing. She’s never been up this close with Samara, and she would probably never have the chance to be this close with her ever again.   “Yes.” Samara smiled. “You have been very good, Shepard. So good, that I will overlook how many times I caught you staring at my chest.”   “Sorry! I-” She began immediately apologizing, but fell silent as Samara’s arm slung around her shoulders. She gulped, remembering that when faced with a Justicar the best course of action was to come clean. “I really like you, Samara. I know we can’t be together, but I love having you around, even if it’s only temporary and-”   The Justicar shut Shepard up with a kiss. Gentle and with no tongue, just the brush of the lips, but it did the job. Shepard froze for a second, but then she finally did what she wanted to do, not what she should do. Her arms wrapped around Samara’s waist, her head tilted to the side and she kissed back, this time with tongue. Samara pulled her closer, kissing deeply, her tongue so agile and curious. The connection was electrifying, was this how the Melding felt?   “Good, you have great technique, Shepard.” Samara praised, withdrawing to her partner’s visible disappointment.   “Did we… did we just Meld?” Shepard asked, dumbfounded and dizzy.   The Justicar laughed amused. “No, this was merely a kiss. We did connect for a split-second, so that I could gather some of your genetic code, but we are far from truly Melding.”   With that, she took Shepard by the wrist, guiding the Commander to rest her hand on her crotch. Shepard’s eyes widened as she felt something… forming under the tight fabric of Samara’s skinsuit.   “What’s going on?” She asked confused, staring down at the Justicar’s crotch, shocked to see that the fabric was evidently bulging, practically ready to burst free. “Is this normal?”   “I’m an Asari, Shepard.” Samara reminded, clearly entertained by the alien’s ignorance. “My people are very adaptable to our partners. When we kissed, I compiled your genetic information as well as feedback from your nervous system, and now my body is adapting to best fit with yours.” Her smile widened, as the bulge practically stretched her suit, threatening to tear the material at any second. “I believe you will find the results more than adequate.”   Tossing all restraint and inhibitions aside, Shepard gripped and kneaded the bulge, feeling the girth and warmth under the thin polymer material. Samara leaned back, giving in to the human’s tentative strokes.   Shepard’s hands moved up, braving to hook just under where Samara’s shamelessly low neckline ended, which was just below the breasts. She risked and tugged, her finger parting the invisible zipper, as it moved down slowly the length of her abdomen. Mesmerized, she watched the material peel off of Samara’s pale blue skin, exposing that just like humans, Asari had round inward navels. And just like humans, Asari had cocks, though the one that sprung free was a specimen Shepard saw only in the raunchiest of vids.   “Oh my God…” She whispered in awe, instinctively taking it in her hand, assessing its heft and length from all possible angles.   “Is this pleasing to you, Shepard?” Samara made sure, parting her legs, so the Commander could assess her sack as well. “I can adjust if needed.”   “No, don’t you dare! This is perfect.” The woman replied greedily.   Her mouth watered, and the Commander moved to position herself on her knees between Samara’s legs. With both hands, she seized the impressive shaft, jerking the woman off slowly, whilst showering her dark purple crown with affectionate kisses. Three hours would not be enough to thoroughly enjoy this cock!   On impulse, she reached up, grabbing Samara by the shoulders, roughly pulling at the skinsuit to expose the tits she stared at oh so many times. Greedily, she reached to knead and suckle them, whilst Samara’s erect shaft rubbed between their stomachs, already staining the front of Shepard’s uniform. Asari skin tasted intoxicating, Shepard wondered if there was a grain of truth in the rumor, that Samara’s race was radiating powerful pheromones to subdue other species. She grunted, sucking hard on the Justicar’s thick dark nipple, focusing on Samara instead of idle conspiracy theories.   Wait, was Samara talking? Hesitantly, the Commander looked up and saw that the Justicar’s lips were moving.   “Mmm?” She grunted, mouth still full of delicious blue teat.   “I said, let me undress you Shepard. Stand up.” Samara repeated herself, patiently patting the human on the head. She liked how humans had such dense and luscious hair covering their scalps, Shepard’s locks felt pleasantly smooth sliding between her fingers.   Giving the tender dark blue nub a last quick lick, Shepard obeyed. Samara stood up as well, doing a slight waving gesture at the Commander. To the woman’s surprise, despite no zipper being pulled down and no buckle being undone, her uniform slipped off of her, silently falling to the floor. Did Samara use her martial art skills to tear it off of her? No, after a moment of inspection Shepard determined that was not the case, the clothes seemed to be intact.   “How did you-?”   “Biotics.” The Justicar explained, reaching to seize Shepard by the hips. Her lower lip pouted when their chests brushed. Human skin was intriguing – warmer than any Asari, but not as smooth. Interested, she inspected her partner’s naked form, finding that human females had more similarities with Asari, than any other species she came across. Yet, unlike Asari, humans had hair on their bodies, quite prominent on their crotch region. Intrigued, she brushed her gloved hand against the trimmed strip of Shepard’s pubic hairs, finding that they were thicker than the ones the Commander had on her head.   “Do you like them?” Shepard asked, spreading her legs wider for Samara to get a better look. “A lot of people shave, but I like leaving a strip.”   “So, there is naturally more?” Samara asked intrigued, gently stroking Shepard’s rapidly heating up sex.   “Yeah. So… do you want to take a closer look?” The Commander offered, taking a step towards the bed, but Samara seized her gently (yet firmly) by the wrist.   “Of course, but we will not be needing a bed.”   “No bed? Couch then? Or-WAH!” Shepard cried, not expecting to have her feet suddenly drift away from the floor. Was the artificial gravity failing? What was going on?!   “Biotics.” Samara explained yet again, floating in the air herself. “Have you ever enjoyed another like this? Once you don’t have to worry about weight or gravity, the sexual act reaches completely new heights.”   She reached for the Commander’s hand, rotating her, so that she was positioned on top of the Justicar, with her face directly in front of the delicious blue cock. Shepard got busy without much encouragement, sealing her lips around the throbbing crown, seizing the rigid shaft with one hand, and cradling the no less impressive testes with the other. She gave a pleased groan, her head bobbing up and down, doing her best to take the shaft as deep down her throat as possible.   Meanwhile, Samara focused on the human pussy right in her face. It was alluring, similar to her own species, but with a few variations. Most notably due to the aforementioned pubic hair, but also the shape of the puckered lips, and of the already overflowing entrance. Oddly, human females seem to possess only one clitoris, the poor things.   Gently, Samara spread Shepard to assess her entrance further, finding that it was tight, almost too tight for the shaft Samara was sporting. Odd, the feedback from the Commander’s nervous system had suggested she wanted a thick, long cock. There was no room for mistake though, the human obviously wanted to taste cock that would leave her gaping. Very well, Samara was going to make sure the Commander’s desires were fulfilled.   Speaking of tasting, human women were full of flavor; from their throbbing clits, the length of their flushed folds, to their tight, quivering cuntholes. Samara stuffed her squirmy tongue inside as deep as she could, ripping from Shepard a muffled cry. Her hands slammed on the human’s ass hard enough to leave red imprints, conjuring another cry. And another when the Justicar risked and slowly inserted her thumbs up the alien’s tight pucker.   One would think the principled and proper Commander was not into being spanked and having her asshole fingered, but the feedback from her nervous system was positive. Samara smirked, licking and fingering, but also bucking her hips into Shepard’s mouth, causing the other woman to choke and gag, yet still bravely swallow down her impressive shaft.   Shepard was in heaven. She still couldn’t believe, that Samara of all people would be eating her out, whilst she sucked her off. She could feel her senses melt, not merely due to how skilled the Justicar was with her tongue and fingers, there was something more at play. Something deeply intimate and spiritual. Something, that made her almost burst into joyful tears, when she heard Samara’s calm, measured voice behind her:   “I want to be inside you.”   “Yes, please! I need you!”   In a gentle, fluid motion, Shepard was positioned, so that she was resting her head on Samara’s breasts, whilst the Justicar took her by the legs, lifting them up and locking her ankles behind her head. The head of the Asari’s hefty cock merely brushed the length of Shepard’s sex, but that was enough for the human to give in and cry. She could feel her core tense, swollen and itching, wanting to have the noble Justicar inside her, and claim her as her own, even if it was just a one-off affair.   “Is this position agreeable with you?”   “Please, oh God, fuck me! I can’t take it anymore, Samara I need your-OOH!” She let out a primal groan, being methodically lowered inch by inch down Samara’s cock, until she was seated on her nuts. Yet even then, Samara pushed her down harder, until Shepard’s cervix was pushed deeper inside her by the Asari’s glans.   Shepard inhaled sharply, shutting her eyes tight. She never had anyone fill her up this deep. Her pussy was so tender, that she could swear she could feel each individual vein on Samara’s cock. And then, it moved inside her, as Samara slowly lifted her up, until only her cockhead was inside. Shepard mewled, wiggling her hips, demanding that this huge alien rod be immediately plunged back inside her, where it belonged.   “You seem to be enjoying this. Are you ready to go harder Shepard?” The Justicar whispered into her ear, and the brave Commander Shepard could not help but shiver.   “Ruin me.” The human begged, eager and grateful to be demolished by the woman, who she admired and crushed on for so long.   She could not see the subtle smirk on Samara’s face, as the Asari tightened her grip and impaled her on her cock once again. Her eyes widened and she could see stars, taking the entire thing inside her. Respectful of the Commander’s wishes, Samara commanded a fast, brutal pace, pumping into Shepard relentlessly, her pendulous blue balls swinging with each powerful trust, slapping against the human’s sweaty skin with a loud smack.   “Oh GOD!” Shepard cried, reaching behind to rake her nails against Samara’s back. “OhGODohGOdoh-FUCK!”   Samara did a series of slower, more shallow thrusts, glad to hear, and feel, that the Commander was enjoying herself. It has been almost four centuries since she last tamed anyone’s pussy, and some small part of her rejoiced at the opportunity. Goddess, humans were so hot and could clench so snug. Although this was just one friend repaying another friend for their help and kindness, Samara wanted to do more, to give more. If there was anyone worthy in the known galaxy to be allowed this close, it was Shepard.   Something was shifting, changing. Shepard could feel her entire being flare up, each individual nerve of her body suddenly becoming so… aware, and ready to be shifted into overload.   “Samara…” The Commander breathed feverishly, craning her head to peer into the woman’s eyes. She inhaled sharply, finding that they’ve changed from icy blue into black, encompassing the Justicar’s entire eye.   Stars above, they were Melding!   “Embrace Eternity.” The Justicar whispered, still ramming her cock in and out of Shepard’s hungry snatch.   “Samara… I-I lo-!”   The confession was muffled by Samara’s lips and Shepard’s mind went blank, as stars exploded in her head. She could feel Samara inside her, around her, becoming part of her. She made a sound, and could not register if it was a moan or a scream, as Samara spilled herself inside her, flooding Shepard with her love. Was it love? What else could it be? Shepard melted into this overwhelming sensation, which went past anything what a mere human orgasm could feel like.   For a moment, the two of them were one.   The indescribably good feeling passed gradually, allowing Shepard to slowly ease back into her own body and mind. Slowly, she came back to her senses, realizing she was on her knees, with her sweaty face resting on her discarded clothes. Samara’s hands were holding her by the hips, whilst the Justicar was slowly withdrawing herself from Shepard’s thoroughly tenderized snatch. Shepard mewled in weak protest, as the head pulled out of her with a plop, causing Samara’s abundant load to pour out of her and ruin the carpet.   But the Justicar wasn’t done with her yet, as the throbbing, still hard tip of Samara’s cock prodded Shepard’s neglected asshole. It seemed the Justicar hadn’t had enough.   “Yesss…” Shepard groaned, reaching back to spread herself for Samara. “My ass… c-claim it!”   Samara pushed her cockhead past the tight, quivering ring, smoothly entering the Commander’s rear. Shepard cursed, arching her back, pushing her ass against the woman. Suddenly, with no Biotics involved, she was effortlessly lifted up by the hips, scrambling for support on her outstretched arms. Samara began dispensing slow, yet powerful thrusts, crashing her hips into the Commander’s pillowy rear, sending ripples up the bouncy cheeks. Shepard felt she was going cross-eyed with each veiny inch disappearing inside her, then withdrawing with agonizingly slow pace. The numb discomfort was also there, but what else should she expect from such abundance of cock?   She was going to come again soon.   Grateful for the Justicar’s firm grip, she spread her quivering legs apart, groaning and grunting like an animal, encouraging Samara to fill her up from the back as well. Samara released her suddenly, Shepard’s knees hit the soft carpet with a thud. Instead, the Justicar took Shepard by the shoulders, roughly hilting herself in the snug, supple ass, her hefty sack resting against the human’s wet, gaping pussy.   She came for the second time, coating Shepard’s insides white. The Commander let out an undignified grunt of pleasure and strain, whilst her ass and pussy both clenched and culminated in sweet release. Samara rested on her flat, smothering with her weight, still unloading into the Commander. Shepard kept whispering sweet words of encouragement and thank you, until Samara’s shaft stopped throbbing and the Justicar had no more seed to offer her.   Samara withdrew, peeling her soft blue skin off Shepard’s sweaty back. Numb and exhausted, the Commander rolled on her back, another generous gush flowing out of her. Looking up, she was presented with the image of Samara squeezing out the last drop of cum, letting it drip onto the Commander’s chest, then stuffing her slowly shrinking erection back into her skinsuit and zip it up.   “Are you satisfied?” The Justicar asked, observing the human for any signs for discomfort. “Please, do not strain yourself with speaking, only nod if you are pleased.”   Shepard closed her eyes and nodded. There was no reply, only the subtle sound of her cabin’s door opening, then closing.   “EDI? How long?” She asked after a longer moment of contemplation, daring to try and stand up.   “Thirty minutes.” The AI replied, appearing on the ceiling’s display.   Only half an hour?! She and Samara were fucking for over two hours? With a low grunt, Shepard stretched and rubbed her lower abdomen. Yea, with the way how sore and gaping she was left, she could believe that.   She wiped the tears still lingering in the corners of her eyes, her face setting into an adamant look. She had to focus on other matters now. In less than an hour she and her squad were going to go up against a threat to the entire known galaxy.   And she was ready for it.   ---   The Suicide Mission was a success. The Collector Base along with their Reaper larvae was blown up, whilst the Normandy managing to escape through the Omega-4 Relay in the nick of time. No crew lives were lost. The Illusive Man was pissed, but Shepard couldn’t care less. After a brief celebration, the Normandy SR-2 docked on the Citadel, allowing all non-Alliance crew to depart. Then, Shepard set a course for Earth to surrender herself and the ship to the Alliance.   She was awaiting her trial, when she realized she was pregnant. Less than six months later she delivered a healthy Asari girl in the System Alliance military hospital in Toronto.   ---   “Hope.” The Commander said softly, rocking a new life in her arms. “That’s your name.”   The infant stared back at her with her big, icy blue eyes and gave a drooling smile. Shepard’s eyes filled with tears and she cradled her baby against her chest, doing her best to control sobbing.   A lot of strange things happened to her during those past few years. The Prothean Cypher, communing with the Thorian, getting blown into space and then being miraculously brought back to life. But nothing beat getting knocked up by an Asari. She didn’t question how or why it happened, more preoccupied with the grim knowledge of what kind of world she had brought her daughter into. A world with Reapers, ready to start their invasion and extermination at any moment.   “I’m so sorry, baby.” She whispered, laying her daughter in her cradle. “You deserve so much better.”   Hope babbled, more preoccupied with the brightly colored toys dangling over her crib. The Commander shook her head, heading to crash on the couch for some quick shut-eye. Anderson and Hackett had to pull a lot of strings to move her from her cell to this heavily secured apartment, and keep things under wraps the moment she realized she was pregnant. She was grateful, but would be happier, if they could give her some info about her scheduled trial.   “Pending visitation request.” A mechanical voice of a VI announced, snapping her out of uneasy sleep.   “Shit.” She grunted, rubbing her face. “From who?”   “The individual identified themselves as Justicar Samara. Accept or deny?”   “Accept!” The Commander said, leaping off the couch.   Samara? Here and now of all places? How did she know? Did anyone in the Alliance brass tell her? Stupid question, of course not, Shepard was keeping a tight lip about who knocked her up. Then, how? And why did she come? Did she want to see her child? Did she… care?   The automated doors slid apart, revealing the Justicar. Their eyes met, Shepard froze feeling a hole in her chest. Samara was impossible to read, she seemed neither overjoyed, nor angered. Merely cool and poised, the way she always was.   “You look well, Shepard.” The Justicar greeted, crossing the threshold. “May I see our child?” She asked, halting a pace away from the Commander, her voice respectful and measured, far from an excited tone one would expect from a new parent.   She didn’t care. This was only a formality.   “Who told you? Anderson and Hackett are keeping a tight lid on this.”   “No one. I felt it the moment she drew her first breath. I cannot explain it, but despite us being star systems apart, I just knew.” She explained, still like a statue. “I contacted David Anderson and asked to see you. He was wise enough to allow my request.”   Sensing tension in the air, Hope started crying. Shepard rushed to her cradle, scooping the newborn in her arms. She turned around with the child clutched close to her chest, glad to see that Samara remained in place. She nodded, beckoning the Justicar to come closer. Samara approached, her high heels clacking on the floor tiles. She leaned slightly over the two, her finger gently running against the baby’s plump cheek. As if sensing the familial bond, the little Asari grabbed her other parent’s finger, letting out a gurgled coo.   Samara smiled. It wasn’t her polite, amused smirk. This was… tenderness.   “Her name is Hope. I thought the name fitting, despite our circumstances.” Shepard explained. “She has your eyes.”   “She is beautiful… And strong.” Samara assessed, lifting her gaze to look at Shepard. “I am relieved.”   “Why did you come?” Shepard asked, opting to be direct.   “I am a Justicar. And a Justicar never shrinks from her duty.” Samara explained, unaffected by the Commander’s hostile tone.   “What duty? You Oath expired the moment we defeated the Collectors, you’re no longer bound to me. And Justicars can’t have families, yet here you are! Why?”   The corners of the Asari’s lips twitched ever so slightly. Or was that a trick of the light?   “I came here as your friend and ally, just as I came to you shortly before our final mission. I am here to help you and Hope.”   “How?”   Samara stepped back, making sure to gently slip her finger out of Hope’s curious grasp. “The galaxy needs Commander Shepard focused and determined.” She explained, putting her hands behind her back, the way she always did when outlining an issue. “You have a powerful enemy to face, but you can’t do so, while constantly worrying whether Hope is safe. I want to help you protect her.”   “What are you proposing?” Shepard asked, tensing up. She was still fatigued after delivery, so she cautiously sat down on the couch with the baby, whilst Samara remained standing.   “Your planet is not safe, neither is Thessia. The Reapers are going to hit the homeworlds first.” Samara assessed, her eyes once again shifting from Shepard to Hope. “I do however know of a research station on the fringe of Asari space.”   “You want to take her away?!” Shepard gasped, tightening her grip around Hope.   “I swear to you, that she will be safe and taken care of, so that you and I can fight for her future. And when this is all over, you can take her back home.” Samara assured, daring to sit at the opposite end of the couch. “And if you give your life for the fight, I promise that I will do my very best to watch over Hope.”   “Justicars are not supposed to have families.” Shepard reminded bitterly.   “Justicars are supposed to protect the innocent.” Samara corrected. “She is innocent, and I would give my life to protect her, just as you would.”   Silently, Shepard looked down at her daughter’s soft face. She would kill and die for her, and believed that Samara would do the same. She dared look up at the Justicar, inching closer. Samara shuffled closer herself, until they met halfway.   “And what if we both survive this?” She dared ask, boldly peering into those icy-blue eyes.   “Then, I will come for you Shepard.” Samara said unblinkingly, tilting her head to the side, whilst resting her hand over Shepard’s on the blanket their daughter was wrapped in. “I cannot make any promises, but your and Hope’s wellbeing are important to me. You have my word, my Oath, that I will protect the both of you until my last dying breath.”   With that, she pulled her arm around Shepard’s shoulders. Instinctively, Shepard drew closer, resting her head on Samara’s shoulder. Closing her eyes, she let out a long sigh. This was nice, exactly what she needed after months of being left alone.   The future was uncertain, but she was prepared to fight for whatever future it may be. But for now, she just wanted to rest with Samara and Hope in tranquil silence for as long as she could.

Chapter 0 - Ch0

V dared hope starting a new life this time around would work out. After all, third time's a charm, right? Too bad his days were numbered. Six months, give or take. Not much, but he was going to make the best of whatever time he had left. And he had a lot of reasons to live for.   Hanako Arasaka once told him that everyone should know their place. Well, he was exactly where he needed to be - back on the road with people he could call family and the most amazing woman at his side. Meanwhile, Hanako was dead so who was laughing now?   He left NC with the Aldecaldos without a second thought, the city had nothing to offer him but shallow promises of glory. Funny, those exact promises were what brought him there in the first place. He wanted to prove to himself and everyone who doubted him back in his old clan, that he had what it takes to become a Night City legend. A gonk dream the local fixers were more than happy to exploit in exchange for a handful of eddies and vague promises of fame and fortune.   City of Dreams… more like City of Delusions. Fuck that noise. He was not going to waste his remaining days on chasing some empty pipedream.   He missed the life of a nomad and quickly fell back into the familiar routine of caravan life. There was always something to fix or someone to help out, so he was keeping himself busy. And there was always the occasional skirmish with the Raffen Shiv to spice up his day.   The further he got away from Night City, the better he slept. A welcome change after weeks of waking up from nightmares with a scream, covered in cold sweat. Perhaps it was because he was no longer plagued by migraines caused by the malfunctioning Relic chip. Maybe it was the quiet of the Badlands, where the stars shone brighter and the only persistent sound was the wind and the occasional coyote.   Or maybe it was the mind-blowing sex he was having with the woman of his life. Who knows?   ---   He woke up to catch a blurry glimpse of a billboard on the side of the desert road, before it vanished beyond his line of sight. Instinctively, he ran his fingers under his nose expecting to find a trail of dried blood, but there was none. Guess Vik’s pills were working after all. Clearing his dry throat, he shifted his attention from the passenger-side window to look at this driver’s profile.   Damn, she looked like a dream with her face illuminated by the warm rays of the setting sun and her clever whiskey-colored eyes focused on the road. He stared at her for a longer moment with a dumb grin, unable to believe his luck. How was someone like her with a guy like him? Guess she liked her men both charming and stupid.   She was so determined, so capable, a true force of nature. And yet, she was still so incredibly caring, so raw and passionate in her devotion, even if getting all lovey-dover was not her thing. Her love was straightforward, no bullshit, no coddling. Once she made her mind up about you, she was going to stick with you to the very end. A real ride or die kind of woman.   Panam caught his incisive stare and jumped in her seat. “Jesus Christ, V! Stop staring at me like that! Scared the shit out of me.” She snapped at him with a shrug, focusing her attention back on the road.   He snickered, stretching in his seat and rubbing the back of his stiff neck. He almost forgot how it was to sleep in cars for most of the time. “Sorry. We there yet?”   “We crossed the state line over an hour ago. Welcome to Arizona.” Panam replied, turning up the volume on the radio. “Won’t be long ‘till we reach Tucson. I already heard back from some of my contacts, things look promising.”   “Mhm. You think we can sleep in a tent tonight? My neck is killing me.” He quickly changed subjects. Finding a way to save his sorry hide was the last thing he wanted to talk about. He’ll worry about crossing that bridge once he gets there. He preferred to focus on the present for now. For instance, how they were going to spend this evening.   “Oh sure, make jokes. It’s not like I’m not trying to save your life or anything.” She scoffed giving him a look, but she couldn’t help but smile, glad he was in a good mood.   “We still have a few days before we reach Tucson. I promise not to drop dead in the meantime. Now” he inched closer, brushing his fingers against her thigh, “you mentioned we’re going to stop to make camp tonight. You think we could have some alone time?”   Panam shook her head, but was still smiling, more than welcome to feel his hand wander up her leg, then curve to stroke her inner thigh. Damn, he was smooth… when he wasn’t an idiot.   “Sleaze.” She said, biting her lower lip.   “I’ll take that as a yes.”   ---   The clan made camp off the road, just in time before nightfall. Tents were erected, small bonfires dotted the campsite in the quickly approaching dark. V stared up at the starry sky, making himself comfortable at one of the fires, accepting food and some conversation from one of the family members. The food was simple, but tasted better than anything he had back in NC.   His eyes wandered, slipping from one face to another, until he realized he was absentmindedly looking for Johnny, almost expecting to find the rockerboy somewhere in the background either smoking and looking bored or staring back at him with that characteristic mean smirk. Just the day before he heard the fucker’s voice on the radio tuned to one of those obscure stations playing classic rock on loop. Hearing Silverhand scream his lungs out, made V tense up in his seat, staring blankly past the window shield. Panam wanted to quickly change the station, but he told her it was okay.   “I like this one. You could say I can’t get it out of my head.” He joked shrugging his shoulders, listening to Johnny sing about never fading away.   He missed the fucker, plain and simple. Wherever in Cyberspace Johnny might have ended up, V hoped he was doing well. Probably having a blast pissing off any AI or daemon unfortunate enough to cross paths with him.   “Godspeed, you glorious bastard.” He quietly said to himself, pouring some of his beer on the ground in tribute to Silverhand.   “Hey, sorry to have kept you wanting.” Panam interrupted his reminiscing, sitting heavily at his side with an exhausted groan. “I know this was a long day, but I needed to go over our route again. And I wanted to make sure we have enough water for the last leg of our trip. And then I had to talk to Mitch about fixing our solar panels when we get to our destination. Oh, and you wouldn’t believe-”   V pulled his arm over her waist, cocking his head to the side. She was a firebrand and could sometimes wind herself up. Panam closed her mouth and crossed her brows, taking a deep breath through her nose, then exhaling it slowly between her lips.   “You know what? Fuck it, things can wait ‘till tomorrow. I’m beat.” She said, relaxing her tense shoulders.   “Glad to hear. I can help Mitch with the panels, so you can cross that off your list. Now grab your food before it gets cold. I saved you the best bits.”   She quickly wolfed down her grub and washed it down with a cold one, then cracked open another one, but this time took the time to savor the drink like a civilized person.   “Okay, here’s the deal.” Her voice lowered to a whisper as she was looking around to see if anyone was eavesdropping on them. “Do you remember when we stole the Basilisk?”   “How could I forget?” V grinned, recalling one of the best convoy jumps of his life. Part of him missed that adrenaline rush and reckless bravado, but he couldn’t afford to risk his life like that anymore. Not without a damned good reason.     “Yeah, well I never told you, but there was one extra package Militech was transporting along with the tank. A very inconspicuous metal briefcase to be delivered to some Militech suit, one Meredith Stout…”   “It’s some weird sex tech, isn’t it?” V interrupted with a strange look on his face, something between certainty and amazement.   “H-how did you know?!” She asked, taken aback by his sudden insight.   “Lucky guess. Almost all high-ranking corpos are sex freaks. Especially Militech.” He shrugged his shoulders as nonchalantly as he could.   “Right. Anyway, I was planning to save this for a special occasion, but fuck it. Do you want to test this weird sex gadget now?” She asked innocently, but her warm eyes were sparkling with lewd intent.   “Hell yeah!”   She took him by the hand and the two of them practically ran across the camp like horny teenagers, accompanied by loud whistling and laughs from the family. Once they were alone in the privacy of their tent, V fell onto their tall fold-up mattress, watching Panam retrieve from her footlocker the aforementioned briefcase.   “V?” She had that disapproving tone, resting the package on her hip and giving him a scrutinizing look.   “Yeah?” He asked, taking off his favorite well-worn leather boots.   “The hat. Lose it.” She sighed, shaking her head.   He never dressed like city folk and everyone could clearly see him for who he was – a nomad. Still, she could never understand why he was always wearing… what he wore. From his old cowboy boots, washed out jeans, the shamelessly unbuttoned high-neck to that damned white hat he loved so much. If “cyber-cowboy who’s definitely not straight” was the look he was going for, then he nailed it.   Okay, okay. Maybe she was a bit into that. But that didn’t mean she was going to entertain his eccentric style while they were fucking.   “The cowboy hat stays ON during sex!” V insisted, adjusting the damned thing on his head.   Panam’s nose crinkled, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she joined him on their bed, resting the mystery package between them. Gently, she tilted his chin up to look at her. He grinned like an idiot, thinking he won. Fat chance.   “Hey, C’mon!” He protested when she pulled the hat off his head to put it on herself in one quick motion.   “Compromise.” She calmly said, nudging the briefcase towards him. “Now stop pouting and open it, so we can get to the fun part.”   The lock clicked and V pulled back the top of the casing, revealing the contents. There, on a bed of foam padding rested the mystery item – a hot pink anatomically correct double-dildo with bright neon lights for veins. One end was shaped so it would snugly fit inside the wearer and rest on the pubic bone, while the other… much longer and girthier end was meant for the party that was going to get fucked.   “Whoa.” He exhaled loudly, staring at it with his mouth open. Curiously, he ran his fingers the length of the toy, feeling under his fingertips the finest RealSkinn available on the market. It felt lifelike and not just because of the texture. It had the warmth and firmness of a real erect cock, wrapped in velvet skin and thick pulsating veins… Meredith must have flipped her shit after losing this baby.   Panam was already shaking off her jacket and working to free herself from her body harness and pants. In a matter of seconds she was wearing only her green teddy, while V was still processing the possibilities.   “Pretty nova, huh? I’ve read the instructions; it’s designed to make the wearer experience sensations like they had a real ‘ganic cock!” She revealed, her voice betraying she was as excited as he was.   “So… who gets to be on which end?” He asked, taking the dildo out of the case. It was pleasantly supple and surprisingly light despite its girth and length.   She smiled and that confident smile said it all.   “Okay, got it. It’s kinda big though, you know how to use it?” He wondered, lifting the dildo to examine it under the light.   “I can fit my palm inside you up to my wrist and you’ve never complained. Relax.” She assured, shoving the briefcase off the mattress. “Now get naked. Actually, scratch that, let me take those pesky clothes off myself.”   The dildo rolled across the mattress whilst Panam pulled V’s tank top over his head, then reached to undo his belt and pull off his fatigued jeans, leaving him only in his shorts. With an impish smirk, she got on top of him, whilst he took the opportunity to grope and knead her ample ass.   “Foreplay first, yeah? I want to spoil you a bit before you go to town on me…” He muttered with his face stuffed between her tits.   She snorted an amused laugh, but was biting her lip nonetheless, dry-humping him, already imagining what it will feel like to fuck his pussy raw with that huge artificial cock. She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face and hear the sounds he was going to be making.   Having his fill of playing with her divine ass, V switched his attention to his woman’s equally tantalizing tits. His fingers hooked under the well-worn teddy’s neckline and he pulled down sharply, freeing them from under the constricting fabric with a bounce.   He always had that look whenever he saw her naked. That mix of adoration and awe. Panam couldn’t help but giggle, throwing her chest in his face. What a dumbass she got herself… A dumbass that loved to use his tongue and teeth on every inch of her body.   “I can never get enough of looking at you.” He confessed without thinking, cupping them together. His wet tongue ran from one side to the other, caressing both dark nipples and sending a pleasant shiver up her spine.   “Fuck…” She grunted, sinking her nails into his shoulders and wiggling her behind, squirming under his teeth and fingers teasing her nipples not so gently… just how she loved it.   “Getting hot ma’am?” He joked, rolling them between his fingers, diverting his attention from her chest to lock eyes with her.   Before she could snap back at him with a clever comeback, V released her tits with one final tug, resting on his back and giving her sides a light pinch, silently urging Panam to move up and sit on his face. She scrambled up to hover over him, lowering herself so that her crotch was right in his face.   She smelled so good and tasted even better, but V wanted to savor the pleasure. Gently, he ran his fingers the length of her pussy, leaving a wet line on her teddy’s crotch. He then pressed his tongue against her clothed mound, grinding hard against her tender lips, soaking the material in his saliva and her juices.   “You’ll get me all messy… And you know we can’t do any laundry until we reach civilization… Ugh, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” She muttered, twisting her fingers into his hair for a better grip while she was riding his face.   Yes, V was having the time of his life. And yes, he enjoyed teasing her as much as he enjoyed adoring her. But he didn’t want to prolong the best part for too long, so he quickly pulled the now thoroughly drenched material to the side, exposing her glistening pussy.   “Motherf-! You want me to finish so soon?! No, wait… keep going. Mmm… stick your tongue in… Hooo yeah.” She groaned, feeling his agile tongue squirming and grinding between her slippery lips before it gave her clit a quick lick and snuck inside. His scruffy cheeks teasing her groin came as an additional bonus.   V could eat her pussy out the entire night, but whilst getting Panam ready for putting on her end of the toy, he was getting pretty worked up himself and could feel his shorts stick to his heating up pussy. Yeah, he could use some good dicking down, it’s been a while since he had a cock in him. And he wanted her to do it to him. Badly.   “I think you’re all set.” He said from under her, giving her perky clit a final kiss.   Reluctantly, she got off of him, leaving his lips and cheeks glimmering from sweat and wetness. She stepped out off her teddy, making sure he had a good look of her ass while she was bending over. Nude, except for the hat, she then found the toy under the crumpled blanket and sat down at the edge of the mattress, preparing for insertion. V got behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and craning his head above her shoulder to get a better look.   “Need a hand?” He joked, biting the tip of her ear.   “Shuddup, let me focus.” Panam breathed, relaxing and pressing her end of the toy between her lips. She gave a quiet hum, pushing her hips against the tapered RealSkynn, taking it in slowly. Once it completely sunk inside her, she exhaled letting it settle in.   “How does it feel?” V asked, supporting her back, massaging her tits and marking her neck with shallow nips.   “Pretty nice, fits me like a glove.” She said with a dreamy smile he couldn’t see. “Now,” she stood up and turned around to face him with her cock in hand, “hope you’re ready for what I’m packing.”   “Sorry, but if you were hoping to make me blush, then you’re up for a disappointment. I had my fair share of dicks before I met you.” He smirked, shifting to sit at the edge of the bedding.   “Then you know what to do next.” She smiled back mischievously, cocking her head to the side and resting both fists on her hips, not so subtly throwing them forward and almost smacking him in the face with her cock.   “Blow at it and make a wish?” He snarked, reaching to grab her by the ass-cheek and pull closer, wrapping his other hand around her base.   She adjusted the hat and have him an impatient nod, urging to get busy. V rolled his eyes, but stuck his tongue out nonetheless, giving the tip a taste. It tasted like synthetic skin – both familiar and still uncanny. Oddly human and yet having that strange quality only high-end cyberware had. He didn’t dwell on it, sealing his lips around the crown, suckling at it and unhurriedly jerking her off.   Loudly, Panam sucked in a breath through her teeth, gripping him tightly by the shoulders. The tech was mind-blowing, she felt each flick of his tongue and jerk of his hand like he were touching her own flesh.   “F-fuck… I think the sensitivity is set too high on this thing.” She stuttered, tensing her pelvic muscles.   “Nah, I’m just that good.” V quipped, lifting the girthy prick to run his flattened tongue the entire length of the underside.   Cocky fucker. Panam jerked the corner of her mouth up, gathering V’s hair into a tight fistful. Was he surprised when she roughly pushed his head against her cock? No. He was more surprised how smoothly it slid on his tongue and past his tonsils. It seemed he still had it in him! Fighting laughter, he relaxed his throat and curved his tongue, letting her fuck his face with reckless abandon.   He was taking it well… too well. And of course, he was looking up at her with pride in his eyes, gurgling with every rough thrust, making a wet mess of his chest and laps. His lips, his agile tongue and the wet hotness of his throat felt incredible, she felt like she was claiming his clever mouth with the real thing!   She had to have him. Now.   Without a word of warning she yanked his head back to look up at her, pulling the dildo out of his dripping mouth with a pop. Her eyes narrowed as she pushed him down onto the mattress, reaching to not so gently pull off his wet shorts. V snickered, resting flat on his back, reaching over his head to grab a pillow and shove it under his pelvis.   “Nah, forget the foreplay. Get on top of me and fuck me already.” He demanded, observing her spread his thighs and get busy between them.   Too horny to bother with words, she grunted possessively in response, gripping him tightly by the hips, stuffing her tongue inside him. V gasped, wiggling in her grasp, but she was adamant to eat him out first. He folded his arms behind his head, closing his eyes. He was impressed by how fast she learned to eat pussy. Ah, but she was good at everything she put her heart into.   “You’re making me melt. But come over here already, I’m as ready as I can be…” He pleaded again, this time softer, watching her through half-shut eyes.   She got on top of him, her cheeks and lips wet. They locked eyes in silence as Panam guided the tip of her cock against V’s overflowing opening. He breathed slowly, staring back at her with a blissful grin, locking his legs around her waist.   “What’s so funny?” She asked, slowly pushing the tip inside, electrified by the sensation. And this was merely the first inch.   “You should see the look on your face. So serious. Come on, go deeper, it’s just a cun-OH GOD!” He cried, wrapping his arms around her as Panam fell onto him with all her weight, hilting her meaty cock inside him.   He was so hot! So slippery, and he fitted her to snug. Burying her face between V’s neck and shoulder, Panam withdrew only to slam her hips into him again, ripping another cry from her man. He tensed, gripping her tighter with his arms and legs, squeezing his pussy so hard she had difficulty withdrawing for the second time.   “Fuck me, babe.” He groaned strained into her ear.   She bit into his neck, ramming her cock inside him, pushing the mattress forward a few good inches. Spreading her bent legs for better support, she slid her hands under his back, fucking V fast and deep, taking in the strained praises he whispered into her ear.   “Fuck, you’re so huge, I won’t be able to walk tomorrow. Yeah, just like that, you’re sooo deep inside me… Don’t you dare stop! You’re doing… ungh… so fucking good…”   “Y-you’re so…” She breathed into his neck after a particularly powerful thrust that made V see white.   “Yeah?” He laughed, cupping her sweaty face in his hands. “Cat caught your tongue? Come on, I’m so what?”   There it was, that fire in her eyes. Instead of answering, she shoved her tongue deep down V’s throat, kissing like her life depended on it. Letting out a low, feral grunt into his mouth, she gripped him by the thighs, pushing his hips up so that she was folding him in half and roughly mating-pressing into the mattress.   “You’re so hot! And you’re gripping me so tight, I can feel every inch of you.” She breathed through clenched teeth. “Jesus, V. I’m… I’m…”   Apparently, she was at a loss of words for once, letting her mind melt away and give into basic instinct. All she could do was thrust and grind her hips into him, groaning and moaning into his ear. V smiled with pride, realizing she had gotten him so wet, that his juices were running down his ass and the small of his back. Sweetly, he whispered more words of encouragement into Panam’s ear, but felt it was time for a change of pace, unless he wanted her to finish too soon.   And he was having way too much fun for that to happen.   “I want to be on top of you.” He pleaded, reaching to grab her by the tits and roughly roll her nipples to get her attention. “Please babe, let me ride that big dick of yours, you won’t regret it.”   Panam peered into his eyes, bottoming out of him reluctantly. V groaned, feeling his grazed cunt throb, thoroughly tenderized by that thick shaft, but he wasn’t done yet. With an exhausted huff, Panam rolled off of him and made herself comfortable, as V straddled her taking her wet cock into his palm.   “Ride this dick, cowboy.” She joked between deep breathes, surrendering his hat back to him.   V put it on with a devilish smirk, gripping her just below the crown. He eased himself down slowly, but only until roughly a third of her impressive length.   “No.” He shook his head slightly as Panam whined, grabbing him by the hips. He was adamant to take the wheel and come on own his terms. Though, having her mewl in hopeless frustration was a welcome addition.   “Fucker…” She hissed, bucking her hips, but he was holding her prick firmly, preventing her from sinking completely into that wet, tight heat.   “Hold your horses. You’ve worked yourself up fucking me into the mattress. Relax and have fun, I’ll handle things form here.”   The look on her face when she couldn’t get her way was priceless. V flashed her a cocky grin, arching his back, lowering himself on her cock with a pleased grunt until the last inch sunk inside him. He wiggled his hips, reaching down to stroke himself on his engorged clit. Fuck, he was having a tough time keeping himself from finishing too fast.   He picked up the pace, bouncing on Panam’s cock energetically, observing her react to his every move with both smug satisfaction and deep admiration. She bit her lip, folding her arms behind her head, having a hard time controlling her face. Perfect.   The tent was stuffy, filled with the sound of wet bodies slapping against each other and heavy breathing. There was no point in stretching this out, V wanted to come just as badly as she did. He bent forward, supporting his hands on her shoulders, going faster. Tenderly, he peeled a lock of hair sticking to her wet cheek and tugged behind her ear.   “Do you want to come? ‘Cause I don’t think I can keep it up for much longer.” He calmly said, his voice not matching his moves.   Agitated by V’s words, Panam abruptly sat up, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, raking his back with her nails. Fighting against her iron grip V withdrew, for a second hovering on top of her cock with only his outer lips wrapped around Panam’s thick cockhead, before roughly falling on her with impact, sending her over the edge. She bit into his shoulder, muffling her cries, coming hard. With her last coherent thought, she reached between their sweaty bodies to find his thick clit and rub it frantically until he tensed, gasped a ragged curse and quivered, following suit.   Both rode out their orgasms until strength abandoned them completely.   Supporting Panam’s back, V gently rested her on her back and dismounted her, leaving her thighs and groin soaked in their mixed sweat and juices. She looked up at him with a tired smile, letting him put a pillow under her head. She could use a drink, but had to wait for her legs to stop shaking first.   “We won’t be needing this anymore. I call dibs on the next round.” V cheerfully said, pulling the toy out of her with a wet plop and tossing it aside.   Whistling a tune, he leaned over the edge of the mattress to rummage through the discarded pile of clothes. With a triumphant ‘a-ha!’ he laid at her side, holding his trusty old flask. Pulling Panam closer, he offered her the first sip. She accepted the flask without a word. The whiskey was warm, but tasted divine.   “Did you like it?” He asked innocently, making himself comfortable, taking back the flask and chugging down the remaining booze.   “Fucking hell.” She sighed, feeling her eyelids getting heavy.   “I’ll take that as a yes. Sleepy, huh?” He guessed, planting a kiss on her forehead.   “Mhm. Too bad we have to pack up and get going early tomorrow. Wouldn’t mind you trying this baby out for yourself.” She muttered, holding him tight.   “I’m sure we’ll have some time to ourselves once we reach Tucson. Get some rest, I’ll wake you up in the morning.” He promised, stroking her hip, where she had a scar left after their faithful assault on the Kang Tao AV.   “Sounds good.” She said with her eyes closed. “And V?”   “Yeah?”   “We’re in this together. To the very end.”   “I know. I love you.”   She snickered, but didn’t open her eyes. “Why do you always have to be so sappy after sex… I love you too, g’night.”   Panam quickly fell asleep. Which was no surprise, she needed her rest after a long day of driving and a good fuck. V held her closer, shaking his flask but unfortunately no more whiskey magically appeared inside it. Resigned, he tossed it in the corner, shifting to lay on this side and observe her tranquil face. Wait, where was his hat? Ah, never mind, he’ll find it in the morning.   He smiled. So what if he was sappy? He never liked to restrain his feelings around people he trusted and was always transparent with his affection. And right now, with the love of his life sleeping next to him, a family to back him up and hope somewhere on the distant horizon he felt more alive than ever.   Maybe he had only six more months to life. Maybe his brain was going to give out in the next six days. Or maybe he was going to get bitten by a rattlesnake the next time he was out to take a piss. Or catch a stray bullet in the next skirmish with the Raffen Shiv. Who knew?   And who cared? He was exactly where he needed to be, and was not going to trade this life for anything in the world.

Chapter 4 - Admiration

They entered the washroom where a walk-in wooden tub was already waiting. Farkas dipped his finger into the lavender-scented water, testing the temperature. Caye said nothing, only huffed, knowing well the water was barely lukewarm. Given Nord and Dunmer racial resistances to cold and fire respectively, it was difficult for the both of them to agree on a perfect temperature for a bath.   “Well… maybe just a bit warmer,” he assessed. “Can you take care of that, Kitten?”   “Of course!” She said sweetly, flexing her fingers. “And what are you waiting for? Go undress Daddy!” She addressed Brynjolf sharply, slapping the thief’s ass.   “Alright, alright, I get the message.” He muttered, rubbing his sore behind. Her hand was small, but she knew how to work her wrist to deliver just enough impact to sting.   “Let me explain one thing.” Farkas brows crossed as he pulled Brynjolf closer by the collar. “I’m on top. Then there’s Kitten. And you’re at the very bottom. So, from now on you don’t talk back to her unless you want to be punished. Is that clear?”   “Crystal.” Brynjolf swore, ignoring a glimpse of Caye from behind Farkas. Devious thing was heating up the water with a weak fire spell whilst staring back at him, sticking her little sharp tongue out.   “Good. Now help me out of my armor.”   The thief assisted the warrior out of the heavy set of ebony with some effort. Thankfully, the padding underneath was much easier to take off. Finally in the nude (wearing only his own wedding band on a chain, just like his wife) Farkas stretched lazily, then scratched himself on the back, allowing Brynjolf to ogle him freely. And there was a lot to ogle at. Farkas was the perfect blend of muscle, veins and body hair, carrying his imposing figure with calm, relaxed confidence. Probably because he knew it would be difficult for anyone to top him in physical grandeur.   Brynjolf bit his lip, his gaze slipping from the warrior’s broad chest and defined abdomen down to his thick, vascular dick. Nocturnal… it was still limp, but already impressive. How was his wife still able to walk, being married to a man who carried a monster like that between his legs? The thief’s mouth got watery at the realization that he was brought here to experience that cock inside him. Gods, he was going to travel back to Riften on foot for sure.   “The temperature should be to your liking now.” Caye interrupted, swirling the lavender-scented water around with her charged hand, conjuring a steady stream of bubbles.   “Good girl.” Farkas praised before hopping in, the excess water immediately overflowing out of the tub and onto the tiles. He exhaled with relief, sinking neck-deep into the water. “Ahhh… This feels great! Could be a bit cooler, though. Be a good Kitten and wash my hair, will you?” He addressed his wife with a playful wink.   “With pleasure, Daddy. Would you also like a shave?” Caye offered, ignoring the remark about the temperature. Not that it was her place to argue.   Farkas mused if he should, rubbing his scruffy chin. “Nah, I’m good. Lad, get over here. I had a tough day and could use a backrub.” He beckoned, resting his elbows on the sides of the tub.   Brynjolf inhaled sharply. Lad? Seriously?! This was Caye’s idea! Oh, she must have been waiting for this moment the entire evening. He bit his tongue, fighting a curse forming at the back of his throat, approaching the tub. Shooting Caye a death glare, he closed his palms on Farkas’ broad shoulders, applying pressure and working out the knots on the warrior’s muscles.   The husband and wife’s eyes met in a moment of silent agreement. She was right, the thief was fun to watch when he was squirming in frustration. Chuckling softly, Caye poured a small amount of lavender solution on her husband’s head before tenderly combing it into his dark hair. Farkas murmured pleased, tilting his head back, his spine tingling from having her small fingers massage his scalp and Brynjolf working out the kinks of his shoulders.   “Is this good?” She asked, hungry for praise, enjoying every second of caring for him.   “Very nice. Wash my face while you’re at it.” Farkas muttered, closing his eyes, enjoying her slender hands lather his face, washing all his warpaint off. This evening was proceeding quite nicely.   He ducked unexpectedly, completely submersing himself. He then resurfaced, standing up in all his naked glory, splashing water all around. Caye let out a sigh of admiration and Brynjolf could not help but share her awe at the sight of water dripping off the man, his light skin wet and slick. He gazed hungrily at the muscles on his back, going lower to the curve of his back and the ripe apples of Farkas’ ass. As if sensing the thief’s lustful stare, Farkas looked over his shoulder, combing his wet hair back and giving his subs a knowing smirk.   “Should we lather you up, Daddy?” Caye offered, but her tone was more that of a plea.   “Oh, Kitten. So eager to please. But I think the Lad is feeling left out. He’ll wash me while you watch.”   “But!” Caye pouted, hurt by being denied the pleasure of thoroughly lathering and scrubbing her Daddy.   “Patience, Kitten. There’s plenty of me to go around.” He assured, resting his palm on his hip, amused by her mewling for attention.   “Then perhaps I could rinse and dry you off? Please?” Caye bargained, pressing her clenched fists to her chest, her voice stricken with want.   “No. Go sit down. ” Daddy declined calmly, yet firmly. “Lad, are you done gawking? I’m not getting any cleaner from you watching my ass.”   “Yes, right away.” Brynjolf quickly said, reaching for the laid out washcloth and soap.   He lathered the rag generously, pleased that finally he was being the one getting more attention from Dadd- Gods, he was already lost in the game. He exhaled a silent laugh, not believing his own eagerness. He took Farkas by the wrist, lifting his arm and running the cloth the length of it; from the forearm to the shoulder, where the warrior had an old scar left by the jaws of some large beast.   Brynjolf kept on going, applying enough pressure to be efficient and yet mindful not to graze the skin. He pampered Farkas, taking his sweet time to wash the man’s back and ass, feeling through the wet soapy cloth how the bulging muscles reacted to his touch.   When it was time to wash Daddy’s chest and abdomen the thief bit the inside of his cheek, avoiding the man’s gaze. He liked a wide spectrum of men; from nimble and lean like Cynric to blunt and burly like Thrynn. But Farkas was entirely something else. By the Gods, he wanted Farkas to smother him under his bulk, grab him by the hair and throat and pound his ass until he comes inside Brynjolf and leaves him raw and gaping. But not before ramming the length of his thick cock down the thief’s throat.   “Everything alright, Lad?” The warrior asked, Brynjolf jumping at the sound of his voice.   “Yes.” He nodded, dragging the rag across Farkas’ broad chest, not daring to look him in the eyes.   “Are you sure?” Farkas’ voice was low and hoarse just next to the his ear.   “Positive.” Brynjolf lied, unable to gather his thoughts, so close to Farkas. His hand gripped the cloth tighter as it went lower to give the abdomen some attention. He swallowed, forcing himself to focus on the chiseled stomach of the warrior and not look at his dick again. Which was even more difficult when he fell to one knee to give Farkas’ legs some attention, the tantalizing cock mere inches from his face.   “You’re hard.” Farkas noted offhandedly. “I didn’t say you can get off yet.”   The thief’s eyes dropped down to see that indeed, his own cock was standing at full attention, the pink head peeking from under the hood. He abruptly stood up, covering his erection with the rag. When did that happen?!   “I’m sorry!” He said faster than he could think, instantly humiliated by two facts. First, that he got an erection from merely giving Farkas a massage and bath. And secondly, that he apologized immediately, like a lad caught pitching a tent in his pants.   “It’s alright.” Farkas assured, patting the thief on the shoulder, like a trainer talking to a difficult pupil. “Go sit and cool down. Kitten, you can rinse and dry me after all.”   Caye sprung up from the bench with a wide smile. Her eyes locked with the thief’s as he walked past her to sit down in her place. He avoided her triumphant look, fighting to keep his cock from drooling and mentally beating down his humiliation.   “You’re a good Kitten, aren’t you?” Farkas rumbled, taking a moment to pat her head whilst she rinsed the thick lather off him. “You know how to behave.”   “Thank you, Daddy.” Caye cooed, melting under his caress.   “You can me bratty, though. I saw the look you gave the Lad. Be nice, it’s his first time.” He chastised, stepping out of the tub, wringing his hair whilst steadily dripping water.   “I can’t help it. I get jealous.” She sighed embarrassed, quickly attending to him with a large, fluffy towel.   “Don’t overdo it. I want everyone to enjoy themselves.” Farkas warned, seizing her chin to look into her eyes to let her know how serious he was.   Brynjolf realized that Farkas could snap her neck effortlessly, she was so petite in comparison. And yet, the huge warrior’s touch was incredibly gentle.   “I’m sorry. I’ll be good.” Caye promised.   “Glad to hear.” Farkas replied pleased, planting a quick kiss on her forehead, much to his Kitten’s delight. “Hurry up an dry me off, I’m starting to get cold.”   She obeyed, tenderly wiping him with the dry towel, whilst Brynjolf managed to calm down to a semi-flaccid state. He watched the couple, unable to take his eyes off them. Both were alluring in their own way; his nimble, agile old friend and her strong, towering husband. Damn, he wanted them both equally now. He hissed, pinching himself on the sensitive side of his upper arm before he could get hard again. He couldn’t concentrate, hoping that it was mostly due to the stuffiness of the steam-filled washroom, not his will melting under lust.   “Lad!” Farkas called out from beyond the cloud that settled over the thief’s mind. “Come along, we’re going to bed.”

Chapter 0 - 0

“Come on… sonnuva!” Romero grumbled, struggling with the TV antenna. “You piece of shit, the movie is about to start… There!” He smirked with triumph, managing to adjust the metallic whisker to the desired frequency.   He kicked back on his old dilapidated couch, reaching for his beer. The movie was a classic and one of his favorites. Night of the Living Dead, his guilty pleasure. He got himself comfortable, though his rifle remained within arm’s reach in case he’d need it. He took a sip, savoring the taste. It didn’t bother him that the drink was lukewarm. He might be the groundskeeper of a haunted cemetery and a Ghoul to Hollywood’s Baron, but at this moment life was good.   A tap at the window cruelly snapped the man from his moment of tranquility. Romero jumped, dropping his beer, spilling it all over his laps. Cursing, he slid off the couch to his knees. He reached for his rifle and aimed at the small foggy window just behind the couch. Someone’s long, white finger was tapping on the glass with their black fingernail.   “Oh, Romeo…”,  voice sang outside.   “Shit.” The ghoul muttered under his breath, lowering the gun. That was definitely not a zombie, but something told him that it wasn’t entirely a person either. The voice was oddly familiar.   The finger retreated. In its place a white face appeared, pressing itself against the glass.   “Let me iiiiiiinnnnnnnn…” The face begged.   “What do you want?” Romero asked suspiciously. He knew that face. It was Scarlet, the Malk girl.   “Want? Want?? I want nothing!” The face swore, rubbing against the window. “Well… actually, I want a lot. But nothing from you! It is your wants that will be satisfied tonight! Yes, oh yeeesss… Just invite me beyond your threshold… I come bearing what you need…” The vampire promised sweetly, gnashing her sharp fangs up to now hidden behind her… well, scarlet lips.   Against his better judgement, Romero walked up to the door and unlocked it. The door opened with a creak, letting in the balmy night air. The vampire stepped out of the gloom, appearing inches away from his face. Romero winced, but hadn’t stepped back, this was his turf after all.   “Greetings Romeo!” Scarlet bid, giving Romero a wide, creepy smile, almost as wide as her mismatched eyes; the left one bright golden, the right one crystal blue. The undead girl had a fine body, the cheerleader-esque tight crop top and pleated miniskirt barely covered her unnaturally pale skin. Too bad she was dead… and completely bonkers.   “Evening, hot stuff.” The host welcomed, gesturing at his unexpected guest to enter his shack.   “I bring Juliet with me!” The Malkavian revealed, gesturing at an obscured figure up to now hidden behind her. “Come, come, sweet Juliet, your lover awaits!”   Another girl stepped into the light. By the rosy parlor of her skin and the red blush on her cheeks Romero could determine she was alive. Alive and pretty cute… in a nerdy kind of way. Her hair was dyed cherry red, she wore thick rimmed glasses. Unfortunately, as she was wearing a long white fur coat so Romero could not determine her figure. Pity, though the legs sticking from under her coat were quite shapely.   “Well, come on in.” Romero beckoned, intrigued by the events that were unfolding.   The two girls stepped into his humble abode, the vampire girl immediately made herself comfortable in Romero’s slumped armchair, next to the couch. The redhead nervously trotted in place, unsure of what to do.   “Romeo!” Scarlet scolded, jumping in the chair like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Be the knight in shining armor! Take Juliet’s coat!”   The ghoul’s brow furrowed, but he decided to be a gentleman. He put his weapon aside, stepping towards the girl to take her coat. She looked over her shoulder at him. Her cheeks got even redder as Romero reached to help her out of the garment, but she allowed him to take the furry coat off of her. It was no surprise why she was blushing so intensely – she wasn’t wearing anything underneath aside from converse sneakers, white over knee socks and tight white thongs.   Romero whistled. This was getting interesting. He could only see her from behind, and he was glad that he did. She had a nice big ass. The thong was practically digging into the flesh on her hips. Good, he liked them thick. But he had to get some answers first.   “It’s not my birthday.” He addressed the vampire. “What’s going on?”   “Oh Romeo!” The Malkavian clasped her hands. “I am Aphrodite’s messenger. I bring you love you so desperately need… Here she is, her lips so red, her skin so fair, her heart beating so fast! Is it you, or the blood that she so eagerly accepted form me, I wonder…?” She mused, her upper lip retracted to show off her white teeth. “You can taste those lips, touch that skin and make that hear beat fast, oh so fast…  In exchange for your old lover. The one you enjoy fondling so.”   “Old Jamie Sue?” Romero laughed, guessing the true meaning behind the crazy girl’s cryptic words. “You offer me your Ghoul over here in exchange for my rifle? You know what… I’m game.”   Then movie played in the background, providing some pleasant ambience. Romero gently took the girl by the shoulder to turn her around. Damn, her tits were fine as well; big and heavy with the kind of nipples he liked – pale pink with large areolas and thick nubs. She had a perfectly chubby waist and wide hips, just like a woman should. Up front he realized her thong was crotchless. Kinky. Too bad her snatch was shaved, Romero liked them with a bit of hair.   She looked at him shily, breathing slow and deep, probably to cover up how nervous she was. He could tell she was conflicted about fucking some rando in an old shack at a cemetery. But she was a Ghoul, just like him. Whatever she wanted didn’t matter, the only thing that mattered was what her mistress wanted. And her mistress was batshit crazy.   With the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Scarlet. The Malkavian was literally at the edge of her seat, with her eyes locked on the two, taking in the scene. Her clenched fists pressed against her cheeks, her red mouth was stretched into an excited grin. She looked almost like an excited child watching their favorite show… if she weren’t an undead predator. The crazy bitch wanted a show. He wondered what she enjoyed the most; the prospect of the rifle becoming hers or seeing her pet fucked by him without a word of protest?   Fuck it. Romero could use some poon.   “Come here, sweetheart.” He purred, taking Juliet by the hand to sit down next to him on the couch.   She sat like a proper little lady with her knees and ankles pressed firmly together. Romero put his arm over her shoulder, hauling her closer. Her rack pressed against his chest, through the thin material of his shirt he could feel her nipples were already hard. She had that cute deer in the headlights look. She was still hesitant, glancing at him and her mistress, unsure of what to do. Romero seized her chin to look up at him. She froze, her lips parted, the smell of her cherry lipgloss was so enticing. He leaned down to kiss her. The moment his tongue slid between her glazed lips he heard Scarlet gasp with excitement. Overcoming her shyness, Juliet put her hand on his groin, massaging his thickening cock through his pants. He grunted with satisfaction at the initiative the girl was starting to show. She was a decent kisser, the way only repressed girls with a wild libido could.   “Did you go to catholic school by any chance?” He asked, breaking their sloppy kiss.   “N-no. Why?” She asked confused, for the first time daring to speak.   “No particular reason. Why don’t you undo my pants and show me what else can you do with that pretty mouth?”   She huffed a soft laugh, bending to rest her chest on his beer-soaked lap. Romero leaned back, nonchalantly grabbing her pale ass, whilst Juliet undid his belt and freed his semi-erect cock. She took it in both hands, stroking slowly all the way down then up. Her wrists twisted a bit too rough, like she was trying to start a fire, girl scout style.   “Whoa there! “ Romero hissed, slapping her ass. “Slow down there, missy. Not so rough.”   “Sorry!” She squeaked, looking at her mistress, not him. Her blood addiction was hopeless… But Scarlet ignored her, looking at them with eyes wide and unblinking, humming and rocking from side to side, possibly in her happy place.   “Try your mouth.” Romero encouraged, massaging the spot he slapped. Her skin had a natural tendency to go red – his palm print was already visible on her rump.   The girl glanced up at him, quickly setting her gaze back to his cock and balls. Her head dipped between his laps. She took his shaft in one hand and his balls she cradled with the other. Her glossy lips closed around his sack; she kissed his balls and licked, worshipping them with enthusiasm, whilst maintaining a steady grip on his cock, gently rubbing his frenulum with her thumb. Yeah, that was more like it. Romero exhaled deeply, completely relaxing. His hand casually drifted between her ass cheeks, finding her quickly moistening lips. The skin between her thighs was already wet with perspiration. Glad she was getting off as well. He stroked her smooth pussy, whilst Juliet took one of his testicles between her lips and sucked at it loudly, covering Romero’s sack with lipgloss and saliva.   Romero offhandedly combed his fingers through her hair, enjoying her slurping and moaning. Having his balls worshipped was fun, but he wanted more. He grabbed a handful of hair at the top of her head, guiding her attention to his hot and fully erect cock. Ignoring her surprised gasp of protest, he forced her head down, his sleek glans rubbed against the corner of the girl’s mouth, sliding down her cheek and leaving a sticky trail of precoma on her face. She whined, but caught on quick, twisting her head to get a lick of Romero’s dripping cockhead. Her lips parted, her tongue stuck out to lap at the bead of sticky fluid. This was exactly where he wanted her. Smirking innocently, Romero twisted his other hand into the hair at the back of her head and bucked his hips, shoving his cock down the girl’s throat.   “So, how’d you two meet?” He addressed the vampire nonchalantly as if he weren’t thrusting his length and girth into her ghoul’s mouth.   “Oooh…! It was a dark and stormy night!” Scarlet recalled, her pale face lighting up. “I found Juliet at death’s door. I wept for her. My wrists wept for her and then she pressed her lips against them. It was love at first drop.” The Malkavian sighed dreamily, drifting back to that night.   “So… I don’t have a rubber on me.” Romero realized, maintaining his unrelenting rhythm, despite the muffled groans of protest. “Do you think I could…?” He pondered, fucking the living girl’s mouth.   “You must!” Scarlet insisted, ignoring or rather not realizing the anxiety in her ghoul’s teary eyes. “This is a consummation after all!”   “Mighty kind of you!”   Wasting no time, he released the girl’s hair. She choked and coughed, then gasped when he grabbed her by the hips to guide her to his favorite position; her on top with her back facing him and her feet resting on his knees. Her dripping pussy displayed for her mistress just above his flushed cock. Romero’s grip remained solid, he slowly lowered her to meet with his cockhead. He let out a low, pleased hum when his tip met with her slippery lips.   He didn’t ease her in slow, oh no. He thrusted without warning, hitting hard against her womb. Juliet let out a surprised cry, arching back, her head resting on Romero’s shoulder. Romero kept pumping her pussy, feeling how tight and hot the girl was. He was a lucky man tonight. On a whim, he reached to grab her by the throat; gently enough not to hurt her but with enough force to remind who was in charge. She yelped, though she wasn’t fooling anyone; her pussy tightened around his cock and the way she rocked her hips betrayed she was into being treated like a cocksleeve. Romero grabbed her tit with his other hand, but not before playfully slapping it first.   A woman screamed, but it was just the movie. Though, Juliet was a screamer herself – with each thrust of his thick cock Romero conjured a series of cries and moans. Her fat ass slapped rhythmically against his abdomen, the white flesh bouncing from each impact. She was tight like a novice, but she was not new to this– her pussy rhythmically clenched on his shaft in sync with his thrusts, like a true pro’s. Romero was getting close, his grip on his Juliet’s throat and tit tightened. She quickly realized he was about to come, Romero wasn’t subtle about it.   “Wait! P-please…!” She begged, locking her eyes with Scarlet’s. “Not inside! I’m not sure if it’s safe!”   Scarlet cocked her head to the side, her creepy grin gone. She slid off the chair and approached the two copulating ghouls. She put her fists on her sides, her mismatched eyes still locked with her slave. The corner of her mouth jerked upward exposing the tip of one of her fangs as she made a decision. Wasting no time, she ran the length of her forearm against her fangs, her white skin splitting open against the ivory of her teeth. Thick, dark vitae pooled to the surface. Juliet whined and swallowed loudly, Romero groaned, recognizing that sweet, poisonous aroma – vampire blood.   “Your love potion, my sweet Juliet.” Scarlet whispered sweetly, presenting her bleeding wrist before her blood-slave.   The girl moaned hopelessly, unable to turn her face away from the thing she was so hopelessly addicted to. Savagely, she grabbed her mistress’s wrist with both hands, greedily pressing her open mouth to the gash. She drank, invigorated by the undead blood pouring inside her. Grunting, she increased her pace, slamming her ass against Romero, but completely unaware of him. The only thing that mattered was her mistress and her love. Her thick, red, burning love that Juliet was taking in with each gulp.   “Do I make sounds like her when it’s my feeding time?” Romero wondered, biting his lip. Thank Scarlet and her crazy blood! Her ghoulette twisted and squirmed on top of his cock like a woman possessed, completely preoccupied with sucking on her undead owner’s wrist. He soon realized he won’t be able to keep it up much longer if she keeps it up and he’ll soon have to…   “F-fuck! Gonna… come!” He grunted, shooting thick ropes of his load into completely unaware Juliet. Without her will or knowledge her little cunt clenched tight around his cock, preventing even a drop from spilling out. Still sucking on her mistress’s wrist, she came as well, grunting savagely. Romero emptied himself completely into her, pumping the little slut with what remained of his strength before going numb under her. God, he loved crazy bitches.   “Enough.” Scarlet said calmly, pulling her arm away from Juliet’s mouth. Her ghoul cried pathetically, but daren’t protest. “Are you pleased, Romeo?” She addressed the man with a surprisingly… sane look on her face.   “Yes, ma’am!” He assured blissfully.   “Good, good… I will take your old lover, then.” She grinned in a manner more fitting her, reaching for Romero’s trusty old rifle. “Please! Don’t get up. Bask in the afterglow while I take care of the few undead I saw on our way here. I am itching to get to know your old flame better.”   She left the two panting mortals. Juliet slid off of him, resting on her side, his cum dripping out of her pussy onto his couch. Romero didn’t mind though, his couch was dirty enough.   He sighed with relief, completely satisfied. Somewhere in the distance Scarlet was pumping lead into some zombies. Good for her. He zipped his pants up, then reached to get himself another beer from behind the couch. After a moment of consideration he god a bottle for Juliet as well, he was a gentleman after all. He drank in silence, stroking his unlikely mate’s sweaty ass, staring absentmindedly at the TV. Damn it, he missed the best part of the movie.   “So… Is your name really Juliet?” He made conversation.   “Um… no. My name is Heather.” She confessed embarrassed.

Chapter 4 - the White Room

Caye followed Eylly in silence, trying to keep a straight face, but the dull pain she felt below the navel and the burden sloshing in her swollen uterus and gut made that difficult. They should have made a turn to the left if they were to head for the Altmer’s quarters, but instead they followed the long corridor until reaching the stairs heading down, to the basement.   “She’s taking me to the white room.” The Dunmer realized with grim clarity.   Being Ulva’s interrogator Eylly had a fully stocked torture chamber at her disposal. Pristine white from floor to ceiling and meticulously arranged the room was the site of many minds and bodies breaking under the Altmer. Caye witnessed Eylly’s skill many times, being the only one among Ulva’s agents who could assist Eylly’s interrogations as a scribe and keep a steady hand. And now she was about to taste what it was like to be alone in that room with Eylly from a completely different perspective.   She halted suddenly, her legs too weak to support her. She groaned weakly, realizing her body was preparing to release some of the gross liquid forced inside her. Biting the inside of her cheek did not help suppress a whimper as she slid to her knees, feeling cold sweat cover her skin.   Hearing the pathetic mewling Eylly halted, looking over her shoulder. “Here? Really?” She sighed dispassionately, observing the Dunmer tremble and heave, fighting tears and preparing herself for what was about to come.   Caye’s guts twisted and churned culminating in a highly pressurized stream of milky, viscous seed releasing from her fucked raw asshole. She took in a sharp breath, hanging her head and just letting it happen. Her shoulders went rigid, her nails raked the stones underneath her as she made a mess under herself until all of the monster cum poured out of her and she was left crying tears of helpless fury and humiliation in a puddle of hot, sticky cum.   Someone screamed nearby, likely a maid on her evening routine walking in on the indecent display. Clacking of heels followed as the servant fled as quick as she arrived. Caye swallowed, wiping off the tears from her cheeks. Slowly, she got back on her feet. Her eyes met with Eylly’s. The Altmer’s face remained still and inscrutable. With no mention of the unpleasant occurrence, she turned her head away from Caye and resumed her quick pace. Caye followed, arms wrapped protectively around her protruding belly.   They reached the chamber in silence. Eylly unlocked the heavy metal doors and gestured at Caye to enter without any unnecessary ado. With the snap of her fingers, the torturer lit the lights, drowning the room in sharp, cold light. Caye blinked, adjusting to the brightness. Everything was just as she remembered from her last visit; the scribe’s chair and desk, the neatly arranged racks with tools and the centerpiece of the room – the interrogation chair. A sturdy piece of furniture, bolted to the floor and tilted slightly back with shackles for ankles, wrists as well as the neck. She fought a clench in her jaw, remembering scenes from past interrogations she assisted – men and women of different races begging for mercy until they eventually begged for death.   “I didn’t bring you here to stand like a dolt. Sit. You know where.” The interrogator instructed calmly, putting on her immaculate white apron and tying her platinum hair back.   Caye slumped into the chair, making a faint grimace as the fluids inside her shifted. She closed her eyes, taking in the moment of respite before the Altmer could get her hands on her. She knew one thing – just like the others, Eylly wanted her alone to get a crude sense of satisfaction from her. But not from using her for pleasure, no. Eylly would love nothing more than to see Caye broken and begging for mercy. This was not a matter of sexual gratification. This was about one wanting to rip the last shred of dignity from the other.   Eylly’s shadow loomed over her little test subject as she closed the shackles on Caye’s limbs and neck. The captive opened her eyes, bracing herself for the confrontation.   “What do you think will happen now?” Eylly asked casually, taking Caye by the chin.   “You’re going to do your job.” The Dunmer replied vaguely. Despite being covered in bruises, sweat and other disgusting fluids, she had to keep her wits about herself. Anything she would say Eylly could use as a weapon against her.   Eylly smirked ever so slightly, glad the Dunmer wench wasn’t broken… yet.   “I bumped into Delan on my way to pick you up from Morgan’s.” She revealed, observing Caye for any reaction. “He’s been pacing nearby his chambers like a faithful hound. He likes you.”   Caye remained silent. This was some sort of verbal trap. The worst thing one could do sitting in this chair was to start talking.   “I don’t blame him. You brought him into our happy little family after all.” Eylly went on, unbothered by her subject’s lack of initiative. “I hear you have a date with him tomorrow. Cute.”   Still smiling, she pressed her hand against Caye’s bulging stomach. Caye heaved a pained sigh, digging her nails into the rough wooden armrests, struggling to remain quiet.   “One could be fooled you’re expecting. I would say…” Eylly paused to press down harder, “… four to five months. Congratulations. Oh, stop glaring at me, I’ll get you nice and flat… eventually.”   Thank Azura, she released. Unfortunately, she turned her attention to the side of the chair where she had a small cart with her neatly arranged instruments laid out and ready to serve.   “Do you know why you’re here?” She asked a seemly irrelevant question, browsing her perfectly polished and sanitized supplies.   “I’m being punished.” Caye stated the obvious, trying to control her voice.   Eylly was a professional. And out of all of Caye’s rivals, the Altmer was the most dangerous one. Not just because she had ambition and the brains to carry her plans out. The rivalry between the two was of a more personal nature. Namely, both wanted to have Ulva’s ear and trust. Eylly was with the Mistress the longest, and yet somehow she did not garner the same level of personal connection that Caye had. Which pissed her off to the core.   “Correct. You’re getting what you deserve for being a slut. A little pervert who can’t stop thinking about being fucked. Which brothel is your favorite, I wonder?” Eylly’s perfectly measured tone dropped. “The Sanguine Rose? No, that’s beneath you, isn’t it? I’ll bet you’re more of a Dibella’s Whim type of woman.”     Caye bit her tongue, thankful that her eyes were even orbs of black, so that no one could track her pupil movement. And yet, both she and Eylly knew she looked away for a second, betraying the truth.   “She wants me to slip up.” Caye thought, wiggling her wrists and ankles in the unrelenting restraints. “This is personal for her.”   Finally, Eylly made up her mind on which device she would be using first. She picked up a bill-shaped steel instrument used to spread and open cavities of the body.   “Just because Ulva favors you doesn’t mean you can feel safe.” She stated coldly, brandishing the tool in front of her test subject’s face. “I can’t hurt you… permanently. But I will enjoy this greatly.”   Caye sucked in a nervous breath remembering how once Eylly used the tool on an unwilling subject… At first, she only wanted the poor wretch to lose some dignity, but the subject proved to be a stubborn one, so she ran a stream of shock magic through the steel instrument while it was lodged deep inside them. Azura, the screams.   “Haha! You should see the look on your face!” Eylly chuckled like a lady at a soiree who heard a particularly good joke. “I know what you’re thinking. I’m not going to use this along with shock magic, relax. Actually, forget it! This is a more… intimate setting, so let’s drop the tools. I want to get my hands on you in the most literal sense, no gadgets to get in our way!”   With that she carefreely tossed the torture device away, ignoring the clang ringing throughout the still room. Bending over her immobilized victim, Eylly smirked. Unexpectedly, her slender hand closed on Caye’s throat and pressed down. Hard.   “You know, I’ve been thinking.” She offhandedly stated, ignoring the Dunmer’s raspy gasp and thrashing that ensued. “Were it someone else, Ulva wouldn’t bother with such a spectacle. She’d give them a stern talking to or a cut their pay. But with you she went all out. Your whoremongering must have hurt her deeply.”   The Dunmer’s eyes opened wide at this revelation, for a secind ignoring the lack of oxygen making the outlines in the room blurry. She knew she offended the mistress by her unruly conduct, but… did she also hurt her personally?   “You love the mistress, don’t you?” The torturer read her like a book, easing the grip to give Caye a chance to speak.   “And you’re jealous.” The Dunmer said hoarsely with a faint smile. Two could play this game.   “Silly little thing.” The Altmer summed up annoyed, slapping Caye on both cheeks. “Enough talk.”   Her attention shifted to her captive’s chest. Those were some mice tits. Small, though pleasantly perky with large areolas and thick nipples. Eylly took both between her fingers and rolled not so gently, tugging at them hard.   “Quite the painslut, aren’t you?” She commented, carefully observing Caye, who had a hard time controlling her face. “This is supposed to be your punishment, but if you are such a degenerate, then I guess I’ll need to have a word with the Mistress and ask that she adjusts your punishment for something more suitable. Perhaps a period of solitary confinement? In a chastity belt? I think I have just your size.”   Bored, she moved lower, past the Dunmer’s round stomach. Savoring the moment, she caressed Caye’s goosebumps-covered thighs, slowly moving closer to her core. Her captive craned her head to look away, not wanting to see what Eylly was about to do next. Just because there were no torture devices involved, didn’t mean things were not about to turn ugly.   She could hear a small jar being opened and then the sound of something slippery being rubbed into one’s hands. Ointment? She guessed correct, as greased-up fingers gently stroked her chafed folds. Thank Azura Altmer had such slim fingers. One, two… three… W-why was she stuffing them all at once?! Caye whined as Eylly’s palm went inside her, three knuckles deep. She looked down to glare at the Altmer. Eylly was not looking at her though, more preoccupied with her pussy. The torturer was smiling slightly, tranquil and in control as her palm pushed in deeper until it met with resistance.      “You must be tired.” The Altmer guessed, twisting her wrist. “But you’re in good shape overall, getting all the fluids out of you won’t be too hard for me. Truth be told, I can do it quite painlessly for you. There’s just one thing…” She smiled, looking away from the pussy she was fisting, to look at Caye’s sweaty, disheveled face. “I want you to confirm everything I said just now. I want you to tell me all the things I said we’re the truth. Ha! You should see the look in your eyes. I love it when they act defiant. But don’t kid yourself, I have a lot of time. Question is, do you have the endurance?” Eylly wondered, her palm forming into a tight fist, punching against the Dunmer’s cervix.   Caye gagged on saliva, going rigid in her restraints. Everything below her navel burned and hurt. A little bit of pride was suddenly not such a high price to pay for it all to go away.   “Say it.” Eylly patiently instructed, forming her palm into a conical shape, fingertips cupping the Dunmer’s swollen cervix whilst her other hand caressed the swollen belly. “Confess and I’ll make it stop. I won’t tell the mistress, promise. This will be our little secret.”   There was no point in resisting if what she was about to say was the truth, right?   “I’m a painslut. A little pervert. I love the mistress, but she’s far too good for me.” Caye croaked with hot, steady streams running down her cheeks and dripping from her chin.   Hearing the confession and seeing her cry like a baby must have satisfied Eylly as her face lit up in a prominent smile.   “Good girl.” She cooed, sending a warm, soothing stream of healing magic from her fingertips. “Relax, this will all be over in a few seconds.”   The pulsating, burning pain ceased and Caye let out a sigh of relief between genuine sobs. She could feel only comforting numbness radiating from her crotch. And burning humiliation settling in her chest.   Eylly pulled her hand out of the little Dunmer’s cunt, quickly pressing down both palms on the stomach. Caye yelped, arching her back, legs tensing and kicking in the restraints. The hot, vile seed churning inside her womb for so long squirted out of her, hosing down the stone floor. The Dunmer let out a high-pitched cry, feeling little relief. Resigned, she stopped thrashing, only grunting ever so slightly until her stomach was back to its normal flat self and no more liquid could be pressed out of her.   Eylly finally took her hands off her, shifting her attention to undoing the restraints. Caye closed her eyes, tilting her head back, breathing through her nose, as not to let any more whimpers slip. She tensed as the Altmer slung her arm under her back. She opened her eyes to see Eylly, triumphant and satisfied. The Altmer gave her a cruel grin, before shoving her off the chair. Caye dove forward, landing in the puddle she made on outstretched palms with a splash, grazing her knees against the stonework.     “You got some on me.” The tortured dispassionately pointed out, presenting the trembling elf with the tip of her soiled high-heeled boot. “Clean it up.”   Caye swallowed a croak growing in the back of her throat, shuffling with some difficulty towards Eylly. She needn’t instructions nor encouragement, she knew exactly what the Altmer expected of her. She stuck her tongue out, lapping off the white droplets off the perfectly polished black leather until no offending fluids were present, save for her saliva.   “Good little slut. “Eylly praised briefly, taking her foot away. Now that she got what she wanted, the Altmer turned away from the Dunmer to re-arrange her tools before calling it a night. “We’re done here. Be grateful I’m not making you lick it all off the floor. Now get out of my sight and sort yourself out, you reek.”   Wobbly, Caye peeled herself from the sticky floor. Cautiously, she made a few steps forward. When she was sure she was not going to collapse, she hobbled towards the exit, conjuring up all her willpower to maintain the white noise in he back of her mind and not think about what just happened and what she just confessed.   “Oh, I do hope to see you at breakfast tomorrow.” Eylly’s casual tone halted her just as she was about to leave. “Tomorrow is Thurdas, remember? The three of us always have breakfast on Thurdas.”

Chapter 5 - Consummation

Brynjolf followed the couple out of the washroom. Miraculously, he kept himself from grinding his teeth, noticing them holding hands. What about him? Didn’t he deserve some attention? Moments later the three entered the candlelit bedroom. Farkas gestured at his pets to sit side by side at the foot of the grand bed, hulking over them and trying to make up his mind about something.   “Now, which one of you should I play with first?” He wondered out loud, his eyes darting between the two.   His subs were smart enough to remain silent, knowing that whichever would dare speak first was the instant loser. Farkas smirked amused, heading to a nearby dresser to pour himself a drink and see how the situation unfolds when his back is turned for a second. Seizing the opportunity, Caye quickly twisted her hand into Brynjolf’s hair, sharply pulling his head back. Before he could say anything she reached to stroke his cock with her other hand, a cruel look on her little sharp face. The thief’s nails dug into the mattress as their eyes met; her glossy black against his vibrant green.   “Wench.” He mouthed silently, aware how desperate his position was.   Being at the very bottom of the hierarchy he was screwed whether he dared protest or take the torture passively. But he couldn’t complain, finally feeling her touch on his thickening shaft, her nimble fingers sliding down his foreskin to reveal his flushed cockhead so desperate for her touch. Against his better judgement, he closed his eyes, his hips rocking into her warm palm. His lips parted and like a dumb young stud he let an embarrassing low moan escape his mouth.   “Daddy, he’s doing it again!” Caye snitched, as her hands retreated immediately.   And then came the spine-chilling snapping of fingers.   Brynjolf’s eyes opened wide, looking directly at Farkas, who was staring back with disapproval. The thief shut his legs in panic, but Farkas already saw him spreading them wide apart, mouth agape and cock proudly pointing at the ceiling.   “Lad…” Daddy grunted with displeasure, putting his drink aside and approaching the bed slowly, Brynjolf’s stomach doing a flip. “You’re not making things easy for yourself. Do I need to get you a cock cage to keep your prick in check?”   “I can go get one!” Caye offered excitedly, pleased by the mischief she had caused.   “I was not talking to you Kitten. And I’m no fool, I know you’ve teased him when I wasn’t looking.” Farkas crossed his arms, addressing his wife equally sternly. “Which hand did you tease him with?”   Caye bit her lip, extending the offending palm. Farkas took her by the wrist, taking a wide swing, slapping her hand with merciless momentum. Caye yelped, squirming out of his grip, clutching her stinging palm to her chest.   “There, you’ve earned that. Now move up to the pillows, we’ll need some room. Lad, stand up and rest your hands on the edge of the mattress. Legs wide and ass up.” Farkas instructed, rubbing his palm.   Caye whimpered, scurrying to the head of the bed to rest on the impressive mound of pillows. Brynjolf did not protest either, a second later his pale cheeks directed straight at Daddy. He lowered his head, avoiding looking at Caye, waiting for the inevitable.   He trembled when Farkas’ rough palm ran the length of his back, pausing on his ass. Offhandedly, the warrior squeezed and kneaded his cheeks, making the thief’s erection even more hopeless. He fought another moan when Farkas went lower, his fingers merely brushing the cleft of his ass. He almost yelped when the warrior’s thick fingers closed in a tight ring around the base of his cock.   “You’re already leaking.” Farkas pointed out, tightening his grip. “I hope you don’t plan to blow your load here and now. I have plans for you.”   With that, he took another swing, slapping Brynjolf’s ass hard, leaving a red print of his palm on the pale skin. The thief gasped, blood rushing to his head. Farkas continued administering the punishment, alternating between the cheeks equally, whilst his other hand maintained a firm grip on the thief’s painfully hard cock. He was kind enough to go slow, though the force of his slaps was enough to the jerk thief forward with each hit, leaving him itching.   Caye watched the two, growing wetter and hotter with every second. She knew Brynjolf was the perfect match for Farkas, his charm and confidence giving away to enticing sexual frustration once he was not in control of the dynamics in the room. And Farkas, although firm as a dom, was also patient and empathic enough to control the thief without breaking him. Redheads had the most responsive skin indeed, in the candlelight Caye could see clearly the marks her husband’s heavy hand left. Unwillingly, she reached to cup her breasts, her skin so sensitive to the touch.   “Kitten, don’t.” Farkas ordered without looking at her, slapping Brynjolf’s raw ass harder, finally conjuring a low, humiliated cry from the redhead. “I’ll be with you in a second.”   He released the thief’s cock. Brynjolf fell to his knees, burying his burning face in the mattress, clenching his red ass tight.   “Lad, don’t get too comfortable.” Farkas warned, sitting heavily next to the panting thief. “You’re going to suck me off for my Kitten. Get between my laps and get busy.”   Brynjolf lifted his gaze at the warrior, a roguish spark dancing in his green eyes, despite his flushed face. “Oh, it’s going to be my pleasure.” He swore with fire, itching to demonstrate his blowjob skills. “Thank you.” He added more humbly, when Daddy’s brow rose, obviously unhappy with his boastful tone.   Ignoring his irritated skin, he slid to his knees between Farkas’ massive laps, eagerly reaching for the man’s cock. Looking up to meet with the grey eyes, he began steadily stroking him, his other hand cradling Farkas’ heavy sack. The veins on the shaft thickened and pulsated in response to his touch, the warrior finally getting nice and hard. Brynjolf hoped they had enough lube, because this cock was going to be a challenge. He was looking forward to it.   “Is this alright?” The thief made sure, pulling the skin down to reveal the glans; the tip pointed for quick insertions and the sides slightly jutting, ideal to graze the insides of whoever had the chance to be under Farkas.   “Yes, keep going.” Daddy praised, combing his fingers through Brynjolf’s red strands. “Now use your mouth. Slowly, I don’t want you gagging.”   The thief smirked. The concern was nice, but he knew his way around a cock, no matter how big. Savoring the moment, he licked the underside of the shaft, from the base to the tip. His tongue encircled the glans before gently sliding into the wetting slit, lapping at the first drops of precome. Gods, the flavor was something he had never had before. Something rich and primal. He puckered his lips into a ring, slowly sliding his head down Farkas’ length, taking his time to adjust before going deeper.   “You look cute from this angle.” Farkas admired, running his fingertips against a scar the thief had on his left cheek. “Look at me. Yes, that’s nice…” He grunted hoarsely, his hand wandering to pat the back of Brynjolf’s head.   “Is he good?” Caye demanded to know, wrapping her arms around her Daddy, tightly embracing him from behind, looking down at Brynjolf with jealousy.   “Very.” Farkas muttered, nuzzling his scruffy cheek against hers.   “Oh? And is he better than me?” She kept pressing, tightening her grip, though with her small frame it wasn’t much of a display of strength.   “Different.” Farkas said diplomatically, tenderly ruffling Brynjolf’s hair whilst the thief eagerly and loudly sucked his cock, delighted to be the center of attention for a change.   Kitten huffed, sliding off the bed to kneel behind the redhead. Unceremoniously, she grabbed Brynjolf by the back of the head, pushing him hard against Farkas’ cock until she met with resistance. The thief gasped, his throat so suddenly penetrated by the thick shaft. He gagged fighting for air, yet endured, managing to control his gag reflex, breathing slow and deep through his nose. Relaxing his jaws completely, he looked up at Daddy with pride in his green eyes.   “Nicely done.” Farkas said impressed, bending back on the bed, letting his wife jerk the thief’s head up and down his cock, as if their guest was nothing more than an elaborate sex toy. “Kitten, I think he likes it rough. Go faster.”   Caye smiled, pushing down harder. Brynjolf gurgled, but adjusted to the relentless pace the elf commanded, taking the whole thing down his throat, to the very base. He smirked amused at her efforts to make him look like a fool in front of Daddy.   “Oh, lass. The stories I could tell you about my dirty exploits.” He thought, hollowing his cheeks and sealing his lips tighter.   Farkas exhaled a pleased sigh. Having a man suck him off was different, but felt good. And Brynjolf was making sure it felt as good as possible, the artist that he was with his mouth. The view was priceless; the red-haired thief on his knees, taking his entire shaft down his throat, Caye behind him equally jealous and excited, doing her best to push Brynjolf over his limits.   “That’s enough. You did good, Lad.” He praised briefly, pulling out with a wet plop and patting Brynjolf on the cheek. “Both of you, stand up. Kitten, get in the middle.”   The elf blushed, getting between the two men, facing her husband. She suffocated an embarrassing moan getting this close and personal to them. Gods, they were both so broad and tall and smelled divine. Oh, she so hopelessly loved Nords!   “My poor Kitten, you hate it when I don’t give you enough attention, don’t you? That’s why you’ve been acting up.” Daddy murmured, gently stroking her soft cheek with the knuckles of his hand, so big in comparison to her little face. “You’ve earned some affection too. Lad, take her by the wrists and pull up.”   Caye cried in surprise as Brynjolf’s hands closed around her wrists and her arms rose into the air. Azura, he was fast. Eagerly, she threw her humble chest forward, her behind grinding against the thief. Farkas seized her by the chin, leaning for a kiss. Caye felt her mind and pussy melt, being kissed by her husband, whilst her old friend restrained her, his hot breath so close to her ear and his drooling cock staining the small of her back.   This was perfect.   “Having fun?” Farkas asked, releasing her chin to twist her nipple, his other hand trailing down her waist, the pace agonizingly slow.   “U-huh!” Was all she was able to stutter, pressing and rubbing her thighs with anticipation, some of her wetness already leaking.   “I didn’t tell you to close your legs. Spread them for me. Good girl.” He whispered hoarsely, cupping her sex.   “Please…!” Caye mewled miserably, grinding her crotch against his flattened palm, leaving a glistening trail. “I-I can’t wait any longer. I-I need…!”   Farkas loomed over her, his closeness choking her pleas down into an incoherent whine. “What do you need? Don’t be shy, tell me.” He encouraged as he slipped one finger inside her hot, dripping pussy ripping a high-pitched wail.   “You! I want you! And I want him to watch!” Caye cried, fidgeting in their grasp, now a second finger stretching her slippery walls. “Mercy…” She panted, getting dizzy, resting her head against Brynjolf’s chest, hearing the thief’s heart race in sync with hers.   Farkas took a step back and grinned with pride marveling at his handiwork; his wife pleading and whimpering and his new playmate equally strained. Both staring back at him with misty eyes, trembling with anticipation at who gets to experience him first.   He was firm, but he was never cruel.   “Oh, Kitten,” he softly said, sitting back at the foot of the bed, outstretching his arm, beckoning her to join him. “Come here… Lad, let her go and sit down on the carpet. I want you to have a good view.”   Once the grip on her wrists eased, Caye threw herself at Farkas, scrambling onto his laps, clinging to him desperately. Her mouth found his, connected in a wild, sloppy kiss. Farkas grunted, reluctantly slapping her behind for misbehaving before abruptly breaking off their kiss to take her by the hips and turn around. Caye quickly caught on, her feet resting on his laps and back braced against his chest. The head of Daddy’s meaty cock brushed her glistening lips, her juices mixing with his precome.   Brynjolf clenched his teeth tight, his own cock hard and demanding attention. He buried his fingers into the thick carpet, breathlessly watching Farkas take his wife by the hips to slowly lower her onto his manhood, inch by inch until she sat at his very base with a pleased groan.   Daddy gave her a moment to adjust before effortlessly lifting her up to about half of his length and began thrusting into her, slowly at first. Caye let out a long, low moan, welcoming his girth inside her, digging her nails into his thighs.   “Azura, yes! I thought I was going to go mad if you’d make me wait any longer.” She cried, needy and ecstatic, grinding her hips. “More, please, more!” She begged shamelessly.   Farkas laughed amused, making a series of quick, shallow thrusts, conjuring another series of teary moans. This was good, but he had to speed up the pace before their guest completely loses his mind. “Lad, come over here. Help me make her come. Hands only.” He beckoned.   Brynjolf scrambled up to them. He licked the tips of his fingers, closing them around the elf’s clit, rubbing the hard pearl not so gently. But she didn’t seem to mind the rough treatment, her dark lips squeezing her husband harder whilst she looked down at her thief friend. The look on her face – wild, lewd indulgence – was priceless. He shot her a confident grin, playing with her clit harder, reaching up to grope her tits. Damn, Dunmer skin was incredible to the touch – dry and warm, much smoother than human.   “Are you holding out?” Farkas guessed, his palms cupping her behind from below. “I can feel you’re tensing up, you’re not fooling me I can tell when you’re close. You want to hoard all the fun for yourself, huh?”   “I- ahh, just a bit longer, please!” She mewled pathetically, looking up at him and writhing like a bitch in heat, faintly realizing Bryn will never let her forget that he’d seen her like this. But she didn’t care. She wanted to be like this as long as possible; her husband thrusting into her from below and her closest friend taking the display in whilst playing with her clit and tits. Azura, what wouldn’t she give for Daddy to allow Brynjolf to use his sharp tongue…   “Come now or you’re in time out for the rest of the night.” Farkas warned without raising his voice, possessively taking her by the hips and assaulting with a series of quick, hard thrusts.   She mewled and whimpered, so close to climax and yet selfishly wanting to get out of this moment as much as possible, knowing this arrangement was a once in a lifetime opportunity. She gazed down at the thief, his face both transfixed and mischievous from watching her usual collected self acting like a spoiled little slut. She bit her lip, impulsively reaching for his hand, stuffing his wet fingers into her mouth to loudly suck on them, generously coating with her saliva. The thief breathed in loudly, his other hand closing harder on her breast, leaving the crescent impressions of his fingernails on the ashen skin.   Caye’s black eyes narrowed. She bit down at Brynjolf’s fingers before pulling them out of her mouth to grab him by the hair instead. “Make me come.” She commanded, forcing him to direct his attention to her little pussy, spread and stretched by Farkas, her luscious lips enveloping his cock tight, her wetness slicking him to the very base.   “As you wish.” Brynjolf said sweetly, closing his wet fingers on the hood of her clit, rubbing it with the thumb of his other hand.   The elf panted, the touch of both of them driving her over the edge, heat and pressure in her abdomen growing too much to bear. She rested her head on her husband’s shoulder, reaching behind to pull him for a kiss, not caring that she was out of line. Farkas locked lips with her, an amused grunt vibrating into her mouth as Caye grinded her tongue against his, uncaring how undignified their kiss was.   She tensed, hips jerking forward as her orgasm shot down from her navel to her sex. She clenched her love tight, legs shaking and clit throbbing into her friends fingertips. She was hot, she was wet, she was melting… Azura, yes! Caye broke off the wet kiss, her black eyes half-shut, her mouth agape, unable to form any words, a strand of red hair sticking to the corner of her mouth.   “Oh, love.” Farkas whispered hoarsely into her ear, pressing his hands to her sweaty belly. “I can’t wait when your pregnancy starts to show. I can only imagine how even more beautiful you’ll be.”   Gently, he bent back to let his exhausted wife roll off of him onto the mattress, then sat up turning his attention to the red-haired thief. Gods, despite fucking his little wife senseless Farkas was still hard and ready to take on a man.   “Can I suck your cock first?” Brynjolf asked hoarsely, hungrily gazing into Farkas’ eyes.   The warrior nodded and the thief impatiently reached for the wet shaft, ramming it down his throat. His tongue stuck out to grind against the underside, lapping away the flavors of Caye’s pussy. This was probably as intimate as he could ever get with her. Gods, he didn’t know his own motivations anymore, only that he craved as much of Farkas as possible. He grunted in protest when the warrior pulled out of his mouth with a wet pop and gently tilted his chin to look into his eyes.   “Hands on the bed and ass out, just like before.”   Seconds later he was prodded by Farkas’ greased up fingers, his ass pushing against them and his cock bobbing between his shaking legs. He was a seasoned thief, a refined conman, Guild Master and Nocturnal’s Nightingale… But at that moment he moaned without restrain like a common whore, begging to be fucked like one.   “I can’t take it anymore!” He rasped stricken with lust, resting his cheek on the mattress to reach behind and shamelessly spread himself.   Farkas iron grip closed around his wrists, the warrior’s pointed glans aligning with Brynjolf’s hole. But he had not penetrated him yet, no. He wanted some answers first.   “What did you come here for?” Farkas asked quietly, not moving an inch.   “Her.” Brynjolf confessed humiliated, burying his face in the sheets, the truth burning down his throat.   “And what do you want now?” Farkas prodded further, unbothered by the confession, ever the patient one.   “You!” The thief practically screamed into the mattress.   Pleased with the answer, Farkas sharply pulled him by the wrists and with one powerful thrust hilted himself in Brynjolf entirely. The thief cried in surprise, being spread by the thick, vascular cock he never thought he would long for this much. Cursing and grunting he bucked against Daddy, letting him thrust into him with unrelenting pace and force. He could feel the sides of the cockhead grazing him from the inside, bound to leave him red and gaping for days.   Farkas released his wrists allowing Brynjolf to brace himself against the bed. He then took the thief by the hips, pumping faster, their sweaty skin slapping against each other. A choked cry escaped the thief’s mouth as he struggled to maintain balance, each thrust pushing him forward, his leaking prick springing up and down from the momentum. He was almost there, almost… just a minute or two…   As if he were reading his mind, Farkas released his hips, one hand wrapping tightly around his throbbing cock. The other grasping his throat forcing Brynjolf to rest his head on Daddy’s shoulder.   “Who does this ass belong to?” Farkas breathed into his ear, easing the grip to allow the thief to speak. “Tell me and I’ll let you come.”   “Y-you!” Brynjolf cried abandoning all of his pride, giving in completely, desperate for release. “This ass is yours, Daddy! All yours! F-fuck just let me… Damn it, please!!”   He let out a humiliated groan of pleasure when Farkas grip lessened on his base, instead turning into quick, steady jerks. Muttering half-understandable thanks he rocked his hips into Farkas’ hand whilst Daddy thrusted into him as he pleased.   All the time Caye watched with a dreamy smile.   “Maybe I should come inside you, hm? Would you like that” Farkas teased, rubbing his thumb against Brynjolf’s swollen glans.   “Please…!” The thief hissed through clenched teeth, wiggling his ass impatiently, semi-consciously shocked that he wanted his ass bred by this man.   “Good lad.” Daddy muttered affectionately, nuzzling his hoarse cheek against his. “Just hold back a bit longer and don’t come before I do. It won’t be long.”

Chapter 1 - Nordic Hospitality (Ralof)

“Who are you Redguard? A sellsword form Stros M’kai?” Hadvar guessed, glancing at his list, then at the prisoner.   The woman was tall and athletic, yet pleasantly curvy under the remnants of what was once steel armor. Her shoulder-length thick black hair was fastened at the back of her head with a few braids. Her left eye was dark green, the right one milky-white and opaque, completely blind. From what little skin he could see not covered by the rough, dirty rags and scraps of metal, Hadvar could see old, faded battle scars. She had a few small cuts on her face as well. A mercenary or adventurer, no doubt.   “I’m a dead woman.” She replied calmly, apparently at peace with her fate. Her voice was low and despite the circumstances, oddly playful. Hadvar’s chest tightened.   “Captain, what should we do with her? She’s not on the list.” He addressed his superior, hoping he could do something, anything to avoid more death than it was necessary.   “It doesn’t matter. She goes to the block.” The captain barked.   “I’m… sorry, prisoner. We’ll make sure your remains are delivered back to Hammerfell.” The man offered.   “It’s okay! Don’t worry about it, you’re just following orders, right?” The corner of the woman’s mouth jerked upward.   Hadvar clenched his jaws, realizing the subtle jab. Yes, he was just following orders… And was now passively allowing an unfortunate bystander to be executed.   The headsman’s axe fell, decapitating one of the Stormcloak rebels in one swift blow. The head rolled into a basket, whilst the executioner kicked the body away, gesturing at the captain to send forth another unfortunate soul.   “Next, the Redguard!” The Imperial captain ordered with force.   “To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy.” Hadvar instructed. His hand trembled, but thankfully his voice remained calm.   “Bit of a cunt, isn’t she?” The woman noted casually, pointing her chin at the captain, before turning away to meet her end.   End of the line. Aza smirked, forcing herself to remain calm and relaxed. Her name meant ‘Hyena’ in Redguard desert tribe dialect. A fitting name, as she could still laugh and bite, even when her situation was most dire. She kneeled and rested her cheek on the block, the stone was sticky and warm from the previous prisoner’s blood. She closed her eyes, ignoring her surroundings. She had a good life. There were times she did or hard horrible things done to her, but she had no regrets. Relaxing, she let her mind drift away, conjuring memories of her birthplace; the great dunes of the Alik’r desert.   The headsman rose his axe, but the final chop never came. Instead, a roar tore the sky open as a dragon descended upon Helgen, snapping Aza out of her numb trance. The ground shook as the monster landed on top of the keep’s tower. Her good eye met with the dragon’s eyes, which burned like coals at the very bottom of Oblivion. The black dragon breathed in, then spewed fire at the courtyard, instantly immolating  a few unfortunate bastards from both sides of the civil war.   Aza’s mind gave into primal fear. And so did her bladder.   ---   “I need to leave you two for now.” Gerdur excused herself, after making sure her brother and his companion were fed and comfortable. “I need to get back to work, we can’t afford arousing suspicion with our absence. Hod and I will be back in the evening.”   “Well, while you’re done, we’ll help ourselves to your mead!” Her brother grinned, sitting at the dinner table and reaching for a bottle.   “Of course you will, Ralof!” Gerdur huffed. “And is there anything you might need?” She addressed her other guest.   “You know, I could kill for a bath.” The Redguard woman requested with a weary smile, rubbing off the blood and dirt form her cheek.   “Same for me!” Ralof joined in. “I swear, the Imperials were holding me prisoner for so long, I almost forgot that I am a man, not a savage beast!”   “I’ll have Frodnar deliver you water and soap.” Gerdur offered, pleased to see her brother in such good spirits, despite what the two just went through.   With that, she was gone. Aza left the dinner table and sat on a large fur in front of the fire, relaxing and closing her eyes. She survived! Again! Against all odds, she was still kicking, ready to face another day. She felt so alive, so energized, so… horny. She did some quick calculations. She should have her monthly visitor in about three days. Enough for her to thoroughly scratch her itch. With the corner of her eye she scrutinized Ralof. The man was the picture of a true son of Skyrim; tall, broad and fair skinned, with golden hair and blue eyes. He was confident, with a sense of humor and fierce love of life… He was perfect for a quick, carefree fuck. Aza hoped to the gods he had a big dick.   Gerdur’s son arrived soon, carrying two heavy buckets with water, visibly thrilled he could do something to help his uncle.   “Uncle Ralof, did you really see a dragon?” The boy asked, his cheeks red with excitement. “How big was it?”   “I’ll tell you all about it once your mother is back, my boy. I’m too tired now.” The man pleaded, knowing well the lad won’t just let it go.   “But uncle Ralof…!” Frodnar whined.   “You know, while we talk, Imperial soldiers could be sneaking up on us… Why don’t you keep watch at the south gate?”   “Sure thing, uncle Ralof! I won’t let you down!” The boy swore, before running out of the house, now full of purpose.   “Good thinking.” Aza praised. “I can’t blame the boy for being curious. But I don’t feel like reliving what happened today. Right now I just want to relax.”   The golden-haired Nord glanced at his companion. She was a good fighter. The way she cleaved through the Imperials proved she had no love for the Empire. The Stormcloak rebellion could use someone like her, even if she was not a Nord.   She sighed, caressed by the warmth from the hearth. Absentmindedly, she started taking off her new armor; a set of steel imperial plate she tore off the imperial captain, after she plunged her blade straight into the arrogant woman’s eye. She noticed Ralof staring, but that hadn’t stopped her form stripping completely naked. Her body was marked with scars, but she was not ashamed of them.   “You know, you can go over the corner there for some privacy.” The Nord suggested, looking away.   “And why would I do that?” She inquired, standing up and putting her hands on her hips.   “Well… you’re naked.” The man pointed out the obvious, hopelessly fighting the impulse to look at her. But it was all in vain and his head turned to face her, almost against his will.     She laughed, approaching him. Unceremoniously, she reached for the bottle Ralof was holding, then emptied it in a few large gulps. The Nord puffed a quiet sigh, seeing her large, heavy breasts press together when she was leaning forward, and then bounce when she leaned back to drink. And as his gaze slipped down her breasts and abdomen, he saw that her womb was hairless, save for a thin strip of carefully trimmed hairs.   “Ah! This tastes great!” She exclaimed, slamming the empty bottle at the table.   She ten reached for one of the buckets, a tankard, soap and a clean rag. She sat back in front of the fire and generously lathered the rag, then ran it down her chest, encircling her breasts and leaving behind a trail of foam. Light from the hearth danced on her skin, illuminating her both strong and alluring frame. She continued to thoroughly lather herself, before rinsing the rag and wiping the foam off. After she was done, she undid her braids and soaked her hair, so that she could wash it too. Finally, she bent over the bucket, pouring clean water over her head with the tankard. With a pleased cry, she whipped her hair back and lounged on the fur, letting the warmth of the fire dry her off.   “Are you just going to stare?” She asked innocently, well aware of Ralof’s fascinated gaze.   “And what do you propose I do?” He replied smiling, amused by how shameless and carefree this woman was.   “You smell.” Aza stated in a matter-of-fact tone, crinkling her nose. “Strip, grab your bucket and get over here.”   She needn’t ask Ralof twice. Unhurriedly, he freed himself of his Stormcloak armor and joined the Redguard. She watched him through half-shut eyes, taking in the scene. Damn, Nords were a sight! And Ralof was as Nordic as one could get. She remained at arm’s length away from him, allowing the man to wash himself for as long as he needed. Once he was done, he rested next to her on the fur and the two shared another bottle.   “It feels good to be alive.” She purred, savoring the sweet taste of mead on her tongue.   “Aye.” Ralof nodded, allowing himself to relax. Good food and drink along with a bath was exactly what he needed. He should also get some sleep, but somehow he wasn’t sleepy.   “So…” Aza made conversation. “I don’t know about you, but dodging the headsman’s axe and a dragon got me pretty horny. What?” Her brows crossed when Ralof threw his head back and laughed.   “Ah! I like your forwardness!” The man declared, genuinely amused.   “So, do you want to…?”   “I’m not blind to your advances, my shameless friend. But I couldn’t.” Ralof declined politely.   “Why? Are you sweet on someone?” She asked, hoping he would say ‘no’.   “I haven’t been sweet on anyone in a long time.” Ralof confessed, embarrassed   “It’s the eye, isn’t it?” Aza grunted aggravated. “It’s always the damned eye. I should start wearing an eyepatch or something…”   “What? No!” He protested loudly. True, the blind eye and the scars betrayed this woman had seen her share of battle, but they were strangely alluring and actually suited her.   “Then why not? Oh!” Aza put her hand over her mouth. “Are… Are women not your thing?”   Ralof lost his patience and tossed his empty bottle aside to roughly get on top of her, pinning the woman to the floor by the shoulders. She gasped surprised, then giggled.   “You minx!” He breathed with his face directly above hers. “Here I am being respectful to you, a guest in my sister’s home, and you keep testing my patience your lewd behavior!”   “Ralof, I can feel you’re hard.” She noted raising her brow, delighted to feel his cock thicken against her stomach. “Come on… we both deserve some fun after what we’ve been through today. And it’s now or never, because I’m leaving first thing tomorrow morning.” She warned, running her hand through his wet hair.     The Nord gave in. He bowed his head to kiss the damned woman and finally shut her up. Aza’s soft lips firmly wrapped around his tongue and sucked, whilst her own tongue tickled the underside. Ralof grunted, grinding his stiff cock against her stomach, before reaching down to pull it back, now gliding his veiny length alongside her hairless slit. He could feel on his foreskin that she was nicely wet and outrageously hot.   Aza’s hands wandered down the Nord’s muscular shoulders and back, sinking into his pale skin to leave red trail marks. Ralof groaned into her mouth, feeling an electrifying sensation shoot down his spine.   “You’re to feisty for your own good.” He panted, breaking their kiss and peering into her mismatched eyes. “Roll over to your side, hands behind your back.”   “Oh, I like where this is going…” Aza grinned, doing what she was told.   Ralof positioned himself behind the Redguard, giving her ass a light slap. She let out a soft moan, her behind pushed against him, his cock burying itself between her firm cheeks. But he had enough of humping, he wanted to stuff her pussy with his dick and show her the extent of Nordic hospitality. He closed his hand around her wrists, pinning them to her back and lifted her thigh with his other hand. He felt adrenaline rush through him for the second time this day as he pressed his glans against her wet opening. The wet, swollen hole tightened around his tip, but he hadn’t entered her just yet.   “Mmm… you want me to ask nicely, right?” Aza guessed, after he pushed the anticipation agonizingly long. She looked over her shoulder to gaze at the man. The intense look in his blue eyes promised a rough ride. “Please fuck me hard, Ralof. Make me feel alive!” She begged, biting her lip.   She cried and cursed when he thrusted forward, filling and stretching her with his rod. Yeah, that was what he wanted to hear. He retreated, only his crown remained in the Redguard, and rammed himself inside again. Then again… and again. He pounded her tight pussy mercilessly, with each jab increasing his speed and force. The woman cursed, moaned and cried. Her back arched, pushing her ass against Ralof to do with it as he pleased. Maintaining his firm grip on her wrists and thigh, he did just that, giving it to her rough, fast and hard.   “Is this a safe time for you?” He grunted into her ear, his voice low and hoarse. “I’d love to come inside you.”   “Such a gentleman!” She laughed then wailed as he bit into her ear. “Yesss, fill me up!”   Releasing her wrists, he seized her chin surprisingly gently and turned her head for another kiss. This time he wanted it slow and deep, unlike the frantic pace of his loins. Aza cooed deeply, welcoming his tongue in her mouth. He was a damned fine kisser. Her nails dug deep into his hip, as she could feel the veins on his shaft thicken and his breathing become irregular and shallow.   He came hard and fast, holding her firmly in place. She gasped as his seed shoot deep inside her, the intensity of his load filling her up to the brim. She clenched her muscles, hoping to keep it inside, but it was no use; his sperm gushed out with an embarrassing sound as he kept coming until he couldn’t come any more.   With an exhausted grunt, Ralof pulled out; another generous stream escaped Aza. He let go of her thigh, the woman rolled on her back with her legs numbly sliding apart. Gasping and panting, she pressed her palm to her stomach, certain that some of his load shot past her cervix, deeper into her womb. She smiled absentmindedly, stroking her stomach with a blissful look on her face.    “Oh, but we are not done yet, are we friend?” Ralof  whispered cheerfully into her ear. “At least, you’re not done. And I’m not letting you go until you are!”   He got between her legs and slid inside her one more time, pushing out more of his thick, Nord cum. Aza grinned through misty eyes, opening her arms, beckoning for him to lay on her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, as Ralof fucked her fast and deep, until she came herself. She held him tight, almost crushing his ribcage, whilst her pussy and abdomen convulsed and squeezed him greedily, before she lost all her energy and went limp in his arms.     “Feeling alive?” He teased, reaching down her perspiring chest and abdomen and slid his fingers between her legs to see if she was still twitching and convulsing inside. She was. Proud of his accomplishment, he offered her his sticky fingers to lick clean. She took them in her mouth and sucked loudly without protest.   They rested in front of the hearth, sweaty and exhausted. The sun started to set, Gerdur and her family were going to be back soon. Begrudgingly, they wiped themselves dry and got dressed, then sat heavily opposite each other at the table. They ate and drank, each deep in their own thoughts.   “You know…” Ralof broke the silence. “You should head to Windhelm. You’ve seen today the scope of injustice the Empire subjects us to.”   “I’ll think about it.” She lied, disappointed he had to spoil the afterglow with this nonsense. She wanted no part in Nord politics! “But let’s not talk about this now. I don’t want to think about the outside world yet. That’s a problem for tomorrow”   “I know what you mean, friend.” The Nord nodded, staring at the slowly fading glow of the hearth. “I… thank you. That was exactly what I needed.”   “Well, you know. You and your sister were so nice to me, that I thought I’d repay you.” She joked, slicing herself a piece of ham. It tasted divine.   “Ha! Just don’t try to repay my sister as well. Hod is the jealous sort.” Ralof warned jokingly.   Gerdur soon returned with her husband and son. Hod and Frodnar excused themselves after supper, leaving the three of them to discuss what needed to be done next. As Gerdur had a mill to run and Ralof was a Stormcloak, Aza begrudgingly agreed to head to Whiterun to warn the Jarl about the dragon. She hoped her involvement with dragons and the high and mighty of Skyrim will end there.

Chapter 0 - CH0

“Little red Corvette Baby, you're much too fast, oh Little red Corvette You need a love that's gonna last”   The phone rang sometime after midnight, waking Dio up on his first free night since he came back to town.   “This better be important…” He grunted, reaching over to the nightstand, knocking over his half-finished drink. “Arrghh, fuck… Hello? Verandis? Wait, whoa, slow down, what’s going on? Rada? What did he do?!”   Abruptly, he sat down, pressing the phone tightly to his ear, his heart growing cold with every word he heard.   “Did he hurt you? It’s okay, I just want to know. Okay, stay where you are, I’ll come pick you up.”   ---   It started raining. Figures. Verandis wrapped his arms tighter around himself, cursing the early autumn chill. His jacket was far too thin for this kind of weather, but he didn’t exactly plan to wander the streets at this hour. He looked around, but the coffee shop next to the bus stop he was hiding under was already closing. It would be rude to come in and order now.   When did it all go downhill? Why did he ignore the warning signs, hoping it will all work out if he just remains patient? Stupid. Shivering, he checked the time on his phone. Almost 1am. He felt guilty for calling Dio so late in the night, but the Dunmer was the only one he felt he could talk to right now.   He frowned, seeing his screensaver – a picture of himself and Rada, celebrating his forty-first birthday just last month. They were both so happy back then, already planning Rada’s fifty-fifth birthday coming in just two months. Who would have thought everything between them would change so drastically? Quickly, he changed his screensaver to one of the high-contrast stock images that came with his phone’s software. Should he delete the photo too? Or would he regret it later if he and Rada make up?   Would they make up?   A red corvette rode in from around the corner, halting before him with a screech. The side passenger door swung open, letting out warmth and music.   “Get in.”   ---   They rode through the pouring rain in silence, with the radio tuned into some classic rock station for quiet ambience.   “Listen, I could drive you around the town until you decide to talk, but gas is pricy.” The Dunmer spoke, keeping his eyes on the road and his gloved hands on the steering wheel.   “Upgrade to a hybrid, then. Or go electrical. Why do you hold onto this gas-guzzler anyway?”   The car halted before a red light. Dio took the opportunity to give his passenger a smug look. “I brought this baby with my first big paycheck, remember? She and I, we have history you wouldn’t understand. So, what will it be?”   Verandis let out a stifled snicker, but his mood was far from cheery. “Can you take me to the overlook? You know which one.”   The light changed from red to green and he could see the Mer’s lips stretch into a wide grin.   “You feeling that nostalgic? Sure, let’s go.”   ---   Dio parked at a small gravel lot just off the side of the road, next to a lone streetlight. He turned his keys in the ignition, killing the engine and turning off the radio. The view was just as soothing as Verandis remembered – despite the pouring rain, he could clearly see the lights of the city. He let out a sigh, reaching under his seat for the release. Dio did the same, and the next moment they were both leaning back in their seats, staring at the roof of the car, listening in to the rain drumming outside.   “How’s that intern of yours doing?” Dio asked innocently.   “Fennorian? He’s doing great, can program in his sleep. He’s got a bright future ahead of him and I was thinking of hiring him permanently, but Rada is not convinced. Guess it’s just another thing we’re going to butt heads over.”   “Did he hurt you?” Was the next question.   “He’s is not like that… He’s never physical, just… Sometimes he…” Frustrated, Verandis reached to unzip his jacket and take off his favorite scarf, feeling hot all of a sudden. “He can make me feel like dirt without even trying. Sometimes I feel like he listens to what I’m saying, but he interprets everything to suit his own needs!”   “What did he do this time?”   “He wants a new partner to join the company, a guy named Styriche. That bastard has no work ethic and I don’t trust him! I didn’t invest so much blood, sweat, and tears into the company, to have him just weasel in and ruin everything! Damn it, this was supposed to be our dream project!”   “Then tell him to fuck off.” Dio shrugged in his seat.   “I did! Well… maybe not so bluntly, but I told Rada, that I didn’t want anyone else involved in our vision.”   “And?”   “He twisted my own words to make me look like the bad guy.” Verandis crossed his arms, sinking into the leather.   “Haven’t you invested more than he did into that company of yours? Can’t you buy him out and take over?”   “I could, I know a good lawyer and I have all the paperwork I would need, but…” He shook his head, tucking an annoying strand of hair behind his ear.   He peered through the side window, catching the lights of a passing-by car. The rain didn’t seem to give up. Thankfully, the interior of the corvette was warm, safe and smelled pleasantly of leather and the sandal-wood air freshener.   “You don’t want to.” Dio summarized, flicking his long black hair over his shoulder. “Because if you do, you’ll have to face the truth.”   From where he sat, he could only see the back of his passenger’s head. It was dark, but he could swear he saw first streaks of grey between those smooth, golden-brown strands. Verandis shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head, tense. Dio rarely saw him like that. Then again, it was a while since they’ve seen each other in person.   “How’s your new book coming along?” The Altmer changed subjects after a longer pause, shifting to face his driver.   “It’s not coming at all.” Dio snickered bitterly. “You remember my agent, Lamae? She keeps pressing me to write something more appealing to the younger reader, but I keep telling her, that I make horror for adults, not fucking Goosebumps. If I suddenly go missing, please assume she grew tired of me and tore my head off.”   He reached to the glove compartment, causing Verandis to awkwardly spread his legs for better access. He retrieved a pack of cigarettes and a tacky skull-shaped lighter Verandis brought him many years ago as a gag.   “I don’t know what I can’t believe more. The fact, that you’ve held on to that stupid lighter for so many years, or that you’re going to smoke in the car.”   “I’m not going to smoke in the car.” Dio replied, stuffing the items into his pockets and opening the driver-seat door, letting the cool air in. “You coming, or did you quit for good?”   Verandis couldn’t help but smile, reaching for the doorhandle on his side. A few years ago he quit smoking for good per Rada’s request, but just one wouldn’t hurt, right? They both skittered across the small gravel lot, seeking shelter under the nearby pines. In the dark, he fished out a cigarette from the crumpled pack Dio offered. The lighter flicked, lighting up both their faces as they leaned closer to the flickering flame to light their deathsticks. Verandis took a deep drag, then immediately coughed once the smoke hit his lungs.   “You still like them extra strong!” He gasped.   “Just like I like my coffee.” The Dunmer laughed, exhaling a cloud of thick smoke through his nose.   They smoked in silence, watching the city through the rustling branches. Well, Dio smoked, whilst Verandis took in shallow puffs.   “You got a place to stay?” Dio asked, carelessly flicking the butt into the dark, despite the other Mer’s huff of protest. He ignored it, reaching for another cigarette, since Verandis was taking his sweet time finishing his.   “I got my card on me, so I can book a room for the night. I know I should have just waited until morning, but I really needed to talk to someone I trust.”   “I’m your ex.” Dio reminded bluntly.   “You’re still my friend…”   “Mhm.”   This time Verandis took a deeper puff, ignoring how his eyes watered in response. He and Dio were college roommates. At first, he had some doubts about the abrasive Dark Elf in a binder too tight and an irregular stubble, but it didn’t take them long to start fucking. At first it was nothing, just friends who enjoyed the same movies and positions, but before their first year ended, they made it official and lasted until graduation. They tried to make it work for a few years after college, but it was obvious they both wanted to take their lives in different directions. So, they ended it without the unnecessary drama.   Going their separate ways, they both focused on their careers, maintaining a distant online friendship. Years passed and Verandis met Rada. After a bit of convincing he and the charismatic Redguard poured all their savings into their dream startup. Initially, their relationship was based purely on business and mutual drive, but over time… He just couldn’t resist Rada’s charm. The company took off and was soon printing money, it didn’t take them long to move in together and live in a loft just above their office.   His phone rang and Verandis almost choked on his cigarette. Paying no heed to Dio’s sharp grunt, he reached into his pocket, staring at the screen.   Rada.   His finger hovered over the display as the phone continued to ring and vibrate in his hand. He looked up at Dio, but the Dunmer was more interested in the distant cityline. Pushed by some defiant impulse, Verandis rejected the call, then turned his phone off and slid it back into his pocket.   “Oooh, he’s not going to like that.” Dio grinned, finishing his second cigarette, exhaling another thick cloud.   “Not my problem. He’s not going to catch me off guard and emotional, not this time.” Verandis crossed his arms, dropping and furiously stomping his half-finished cigarette.   The Dunmer stepped closer, looking up at the other Mer’s face. Funny, Verandis almost forgot their height difference. Then again, he was tall even for an Altmer, so he had to look down at almost everyone.   “This time you’ve really had enough, haven’t you?” Dio’s red eyes gleamed in the lights of another passing-by car.   “I’m… tired of not being treated seriously. I do all the work and take on most of the risk, yet feel like he just doesn’t care about a thing I say!!” Verandis confessed, raising his voice and practically shouting out the few last words. Embarrassed, he covered his mouth, staring at the disturbed ground beneath his feet.   “Drop him. It’s not like you’re married or anything.” Dio rolled his eyes dramatically, amused by the uncanny outburst.   “It’s not that easy.”   “Is it not easy because you still believe you can work things out with him, or are you just too scared of going through with it?”   The taller Mer rubbed the back of his neck nervously, avoiding the Dunmer’s burning eyes. “I… I’m not sure. Both, I guess?”   “You’re such a people pleaser.” Dio teased, giving him a light push on the shoulder. “Be selfish for once!”   Verandis gave him a look as if something snapped inside him and the next second Dio was suddenly pushed back, meeting with a tree trunk with Verandis leaning over him. Shocked by such surprising behavior from his predictable old friend, Dio was still processing what was happening as Verandis cupped his face in both hands and kissed deeply, hungrily.     Dio just stood there, between the Altmer and a tree, frozen in place by surprise. But it didn’t take him long to snap out of it and dig his nails into the other Mer’s shoulders, signaling to ease off. Regaining his senses, Verandis broke off their sloppy kiss, taking a few long steps back, staring back at the Dunmer horrified.   “What the fuck was that all about?!” Dio breathed, rubbing the corner of his mouth where the Altmer’s unruly stubble chafed him.   “I-I’m sorry! I’m not thinking straight, I just-!”   “Shut up.” The Dunmer grunted, his voice low and hoarse. “Car. Now.”   Sheepishly, Verandis followed Dio, feeling his cheeks burning from guilt and shame, raindrops falling on his face bringing little relief. Great, he could check two close relationships off the list tonight. Just fantastic. He entered the car and took his seat. He jumped when his driver joined him, forcefully slamming his side’s door.   Dio hadn’t started the ignition, but didn’t look at him or speak either. Instead, he stared through the driver’s side window, elbow propped against the steering wheel, and his chin supported on his palm. He let out an annoyed grunt, the type Verandis knew from then they shared a dorm room. Dio was pondering something.   “I’m sorry.” He quietly said, staring down at his clenched fists resting on his wet laps.   “Pants. Lose them.” Dio finally commanded, sharply turning his head to face him.   “I’m sorry?”   “You heard me. Take off your pants, I’m gonna suck your dick.” He stressed out, taking off his leather gloves.   “I didn’t call you for sex.” Verandis protested meekly.   “Then why the fuck did you ask me to drive you here?” Dio grunted, tossing the gloves on the dashboard. “Do you remember why we came here for the first time all those years ago?   “To celebrate your book getting published.” The Altmer recalled quietly.   “That’s right. You were the only one who believed in me and my stupid little story about angsty gay vampires. You kept pushing me to finish it, and if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have this damned car or my career. We drove here, cracked open a few beers and fucked. And it was amazing. And I felt complete, on top of you in my brand-new car, with my dreams come true. So, either tell me to fuck off and drive you to a hotel, or drop those pants.” Dio said through clenched teeth, tightly gripping the steering wheel.   Verandis stared back at him with his vibrant green eyes wide and mouth slumped agape. Damn it, he should have asked Dio to take him somewhere else, anywhere but this place. But this remote parking lot in the middle of nowhere… it was special. They spent some magical moments here, late in the night, steaming up the windows.   He broke eye contact to look down at his hands and realized that he was hard, yearning for Dio’s touch. Rada was an excellent lover, but he also treated intimacy as currency, revoking it whenever he saw fit. Damn it all, he could really use a good blowjob.   Hands shaking, he reached down to undo his belt and peel off his wet jeans, all the way to his ankles. Letting out a loud breath through his nose, betraying that he was holding it for too long, Dio motioned closer. Wasting no words, he hooked is fingers under the edge of the Altmer’s shorts, sharply pulling them down and freeing his dick. Verandis let out a surprised whimper, sinking his nails into the seat, straddling his legs as wide as he could.   “Relax.” Dio muttered softer, bending over his stiffening cock, taking it in one hand to give a few gentle strokes. “It’s okay. I want nothing from you and I won’t judge. Just have fun.”   The Dunmer’s head obstructed his crotch, so Verandis leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He felt a warm breath on the tip of his cock and couldn’t help but gasp as the other Mer’s warm lips closed around his crown, sliding agonizingly slow down his shaft.   “F-fuck.” He panted, enticing a soft laugh from the Dunmer. He never cursed, except for when he was getting laid.   Intuitively, he rested one hand on Dio’s back, combing his fingers through his wet hair with the other. Loudly, he sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his sack kneaded and squeezed not so gently. Just how he liked it. Yes, this was what he needed – someone to take his dick all the way down their throat, no judgment, no strings attached, no feeling like he had to play favors for them to do it. Just a good old fashion blowjob from a trusted old friend.   His hips bucked into the Dunmer’s mouth, ripping a rough grunt of protest. Yet, Dio shoved his head forcefully against his length, as if showing off he could take it much rougher. Well, if he put it that way… Staring down at those smooth black locks, Verandis twisted both hands into them, roughly shoving the other Mer’s head down, rhythmically thrusting into him.   Dio grunted, tightening his grip on the Altmer’s base and sack, swallowing him all down, despite his eyes watering. It was good to see that Verandis still knew how to show initiative, for a second he feared he’d just sit there and take it passively. He allowed himself a pleased moan, curving his tongue to slide up and down the underside with every thrust. Suddenly, Verandis sharply pulled him by the hair from his twitching cock. Their eyes met. Red, angry for being interrupted. Green, darkened with desire.   “You got a problem?” Dio panted, wiping from his chin a pesky string of saliva trailing all the way down to the Altmer’s glistening cock.   “Do that thing I like. The one with your tongue in my-FUCK!” Verandis groaned, squirming in his seat as the Dunmer roughly pulled back his skin and dived to stick his tongue into the precum dripping slit, then wiggled vigorously, tightly sealing his lips around the crown. The feeling was just as electrifying as he remembered, too bad Dio didn’t have that tongue stud he sported throughout college. Yes, just like that, just a little bit longer…   Verandis was always so obvious when he was about to come. His ragged breath, the way his abdomen and laps tensed and how he reached to caress the Dunmer’s meticulously contoured stubble left little room for speculation. Dio wondered, should he tease him a bit? Ask him a for permission to come in his mouth? Tempting, but the poor bastard had a rough night and could use some easy release.   There it was, that sharp inhale, then soft ‘unh’ from the back of his throat, followed by the shaft twitching in Dio’s mouth. The Dunmer let out a surprised grunt, tasting the first loads of Altmer come on his tongue. Lapping away at the flushed crown and squeezing the sack, he greedily swallowed it all down, just in time for more, and then some more, until his old friend was limp in his seat, with his bare ass slick with sweat on the leather and head tilted back, so he was staring glassy-eyed at the roof.   “You good?” Dio asked, looking up to stare at the other Mer’s slim jawline.   Verandis said nothing, only reached to pull him up closer and kissed, this time gentler, tasting himself on Dio’s tongue.   “Haven’t felt this relaxed in months.” He confessed, finally releasing him. “Just let me catch my breath and I’ll be right with you.”   Dio gave a dismissive wave, but who was he trying to fool? He made himself comfortable, whilst Verandis awkwardly struggled to pull up his underwear and pants. He hadn’t even realized when it stopped raining. Good, he could lower the car’s roof on their back to civilization, especially with how stuffy the interior felt. But that was for later, now… he could use some fun as well.   Verandis slung his arm around his shoulders, pulling Dio closer. The Dunmer muttered a quiet curse, resting his cheek on his chest, watching the Altmer’s hand wander down to his belt’s buckle. Bastard had deft hands, as Dio was quickly relieved of his pants and underwear, and his shirt was pulled up, exposing his bare chest and abdomen.   Unhurriedly, Verandis stroked his driver’s toned stomach, taking pleasure from listening to Dio’s frustrated sighing. He stifled a laugh as the Dunmer squirmed, silently signaling him to get on with it. Very well. He reached lower, feeling how swollen and engorged the man had gotten, and how slick and hot he was even lower.   “Did I get you this hot and bothered?” He whispered affectionately, resting his cheek on the Dunmer’s head, testing how many fingers he could slide inside him for now. Two. But judging by the way Dio tilted his pelvis, he wanted more. Fine, three.   Altmer had the longest, gentlest fingers imaginable, and Verandis knew exactly what the Dunmer liked. With just a flick of the wrist and slight curve of his fingertips he found the sweet spot, rubbing it fast, but still gently. When taking the lead, he never liked to go straight to the point. His style was to always start gently and slowly pick up the pace, until his partners were mewling, satisfied messes. Dio could whisper strained demands, grunt and impatiently buck his hips into his palm, but he was adamant on doing things his way.   “You can help yourself, if you want.” He suggested sweetly, now pumping four fingers in and out of the agitated Mer with a lewd, wet sound, well aware how his signet ring was teasing him from the inside.   “You’re such a smug bastard in the sack.” Dio grunted breathlessly, reaching to stroke himself into completion. “I missed it.”   He let out a strained groan as Verandis unceremoniously shoved his fingers all the way in. Shooting the Altmer a dazed look, he closed his fingers tighter, stroking and rolling, feeling how he started throbbing, close to release. Semiconsciously, he was aware what a mess he already made under himself, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to come with his closest friend by his side, listening to him whisper sweet words of encouragement into his ear, whilst practically fisting him.   That damned signet was driving him mad and finally Dio went rigid, arching his back and shutting his eyes tight, riding out his orgasm as long as he could, before his wet ass slammed against his slippery seat. With a tender kiss on the forehead, Verandis pulled his fingers out of the still twitching Dunmer, pleased with his handiwork.   “You always look so tranquil after you come.”   “Thanks. Tissues are in the glovebox. Get me a few, why don’t you.”   They sorted themselves out in silence. Was there anything more to do or say? It was getting late, and it was time to go. They were both adults and knew this changed nothing between them. There was not going to be a dramatic breakup with Rada only for Verandis to fall back into Dio’s arms and live happily ever after. They were past lovers, but had each other’s back. Why ruin their friendship with trying again? But this moment of carefree happiness with someone, who didn’t make Verandis second guess himself, or feel like he wasn’t worthy of attention, made him realize that things were long in the making. It was time to end things with Rada, so he could breathe again.   “Which hotel do you want me to drop you off at?” Dio asked casually, putting his gloves back on.   “Can we drive to your place? I’ll take sleeping on your couch over any hotel room.”   “Sure, I’ll even throw in a t-shirt for you to sleep in. Though, on you it’s going to be more of a crop top.”   Verandis snickered, buckling his seatbelt. Dio turned the key in the ignition, the engine purred in response. Smiling so uncharacteristically for himself, he lowered the roof and they drove back to the city through the night.

Chapter 2 - Love-triangles (Camilla, Mikael)

“Here.” Aza heaved a sigh, placing the golden claw at the counter. “I got it back for you. I had to fight a giant spider for it.” She revealed, picking cobweb from her hair.   “The claw!” Lucan cried, cradling the trinket in his arms with such tenderness that one would think it were his own flesh and blood. “I can’t believe it! Divines bless you, traveler!”   His sister and the adventurer shared a look. Both shrugged their shoulders.   “Now, if you could be so kind and pay me, I’ll be on my way…” Aza yawned, wondering if she wasted enough time in Riverwood that someone else had already reached the Jarl with the news about Helgen. She wouldn’t mind if that were true. Something about this whole dragon business made her uneasy.   “Yes, of course! You know, things have been rough with the war and all… How about I cut you a discount on my wares? I bet you could use some supplies. ” Lucan, though ecstatic, was a shrewd businessman at heart.   “I already have gear. It’s hard coin that I need.” The adventurer pressed, growing annoyed. Damn shopkeeper was apparently planning to make things difficult for her.   “For the love of Mara Lucan! Pay the woman!” Camilla snapped, embarrassed by her brother’s behavior. “She returned your precious plaything and you’re treating her like a beggar!”   “Right, right…” The Imperial, grumbled, counting out the coin.   “Thanks!” Aza smiled, accepting the coinpurse. “Well… good luck.” She bid, turning to the door.   “Wait!” Camilla halted her just as the adventurer was about to leave. “Can I at least get you a drink at the inn or something?”   “Um… sure?” Aza agreed dumbfounded. Did Camilla have any business of her own, or…? Nah. Most women that found her attractive were either fellow adventurers or orcs. The girl most likely needed some muscle for hire.   “Just get back home before it gets dark!” Lucan warned when the door was closing behind the two.   ---   “Ok. You bought me a drink and dinner. I’m flattered, really. Now, what is it you need?” Aza inquired, after wolfing down her food. She leaned back on the bench she shared with the girl at the inn’s dining area, awaiting for the imperial to outline whatever issue she had.   “I… well.” Camilla blushed. She was a nice, pretty girl, despite her horrible choice in makeup. “I was wondering if you could help me? It’s about… men.” She confessed embarrassed.   “That elf and the so called bard?” Aza guessed, already anticipating a headache.   “Yes, I… well… They’re both so dreamy. And this is a small village, everyone knows everyone, so I can’t ask anyone for advice. Not unless I’d want to be the target of local gossip. But you’re an outsider, so I hoped you could share some perspective.”   “They’re both scumbags.” Aza stated dispassionately. “Here”, she pulled two folded letters from one of her satchels. “Both of them approached me at some point and gave me fake letters, asking me to deliver them to you and pretend they’re form the other. They both paid me equally measly. I planned to use the letters as emergency toilet paper, but… I think you should read them.”   Camilla took both letters and began reading, growing redder and redder with each word she had to take in. Her hands shook, but her eyes remained focused on the two sheets of paper. Her brow twitched uncontrollably, but she soldiered through both disgusting letters.   “Those! Those! Horker-lovers!” She gasped out, choking on blind fury, tearing the pages into tiny bits.   “Mhm.” Aza nodded, looking away and allowing the girl to stew. The meal she was treated to was nice, but she had no intention of getting involved in small town love triangles. She wanted to excuse herself without seeming ungrateful and get going while it was still bright. “Listen, I…”   Before she could say anything the two suitors of miss Valerius entered the inn, squabbling like children over some irrelevant nonsense. The men froze seeing Camilla, or rather the daggers in the Imperial woman’s eyes. Camilla was so enraged by what she just read, that she acted on impulse. With a frenzied cry she turned to the Redguard woman and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling close and smashing their lips together. Aza’s eyes widened by this surprising development. But nonetheless, her lecherous nature took over and she embraced the Imperial tightly returning the kiss with fire, getting Camilla’s red lipstick all over her mouth.   Through the blood rushing through her veins, Camilla could hear her suitors cry in shock, seeing her in the arms of this dashing stranger. Well… dashing to her, at least. The doors of the inn slammed loudly, some pottery fell off a nearby shelf and smashed into bits on the floor. The sound sent shivers up her spine, as she was still passionately kissing the adventurer, shutting all common sense off. Finally, it was Aza who broke off their kiss and gently pulled away.   “You’re a crazy girl, you know that?” She chuckled, wiping Camilla’s red lipstick off her face.   “I… Mara, I’m sorry!” The girl gasped in horror, now regaining some sense. “I don’t know what came over me, I swear! I saw them and then I looked at you, and things just clicked in my head, and…!”   “Relax. It’s fine.” The Redguard assured, amused by what just transpired. “No harm done.”   “So… uh… Will you stay longer?” Camilla risked, brushing her hair back and pouting, hoping to look alluring.   “No… I really need to get to Whiterun. I have some business to take care of.” Aza shook her head, reluctant to do what she promised Gerdur.   “Oh, well… If you’re ever in Riverwood, don’t be a stranger, okay?”   ---   Dragons. Fucking dragons. Aza was still shaking after what just transpired today. And she still couldn’t quite grasp what happened. She came to town, delivered the news to the Jarl, then had a chat with his wizard. Whether she was just incredibly unlucky or stupid, she had a strange dragon tablet on her, exactly the one the wizard needed. She found it in Bleak Falls Burrow when searching for Lucan’s stupid golden claw and hauled it all the way to Whiterun hoping to sell it to someone in the market for ancient Nord trash. Gods, she got more than she’d bargain for.   Just as she was losing her patience arguing over the price with the wizard, the Jarl’s housecarl just had to come in, warning about a dragon attacking the hold. Before Aza could get a word of protest, she was enrolled in the Jarl’s makeshift militia and marched out of town, straight at the beast.   She faced the dragon, despite every fiber of her being telling her to get the fuck out of there. Like she was drawn to fight the scaly bastard. She killed it, and then… Something really weird happened. She ate it. Not literally, but she felt she was unwillingly taking in, devouring the dragon’s essence. And just as quick as it happened, the dragon’s soul settled inside her, like a particularly burning chug of strong spirits.   Some of the guards witness to the scene started calling her Dragonborn. Her! A Redguard form the desert! How could she be a legendary hero of the Nords? This were crazy times indeed. To make matters worse, some weird old monks shouted across the land, beckoning her to join them on top of the highest mountain in Skyrim. Damned Balgruuf was so ecstatic when he heard the news, that she almost asked if he wouldn’t want to take her place. At least he paid her. Enough that she could afford some new armor, the Imperial set was drawing too much attention. A full set of banded iron wasn’t exactly what she preferred, but it was good enough.   With a pained groan, she stretched on one of the benches in front of the temple of Kynareth. It was less than a week since she arrived in the province and already she knew she got mixed up in something she did not want to be any part of. Was there anything else that could happen to worsen this day for her?? She grunted, feeling the first cramps tearing through her abdomen. Great, she was about to get her period.   “Hello.” A tiny voice greeted. “My name is Mila. What’s yours?”   Aza snapped back from her musings, noticing a little Imperial girl standing a few steps in front of her. The child was pacing nervously in place, but determined to say something.   “Aza. And you shouldn’t talk to strangers.” The woman reprimanded, hoping to gently get the child to leave her alone so she could get back to wallowing in self pity in peace.   “I’m talking to you first, so I think it’s okay. Are you an adventurer?” The child asked, mincing her sleeve.   “Sure am.”   “Are you for hire?”   “And what dangerous quest do you have for me, kiddo? Slaying a monster under your bed?” Aza asked, amused by this child’s boldness.   “No. I want you to make that stupid bard Mikael leave my mother alone.” The girl demanded, clenching her tiny fists. “Her name is Carlotta Valentia and she’s the greatest mom ever! But she doesn’t take me to the Bannered Mare anymore because he’s always there. And he always wants to talk to her. He’s so annoying!”   “How much money do you have?” The adventurer’s brow rose. She needed a distraction form this weird day and pummeling an arrogant bard was the exact thing that could help get her mind off this whole Dragonborn nonsense.   “I have three Septims. And a sweetroll.” The girl said, not sure if that was enough to convince the adventurer.   “Tell you what. You give me that sweetroll as down payment and I see what I can do. But no refunds.”   ---   Mikael was decent with his voice and lute, but nothing spectacular. Just another singer with a repertoire fitting for a local inn. And an ego fitting the one of a court minstrel.   “So, Olfina, when are you going to leave that sullen Jon and run away with me?” He asked a passing by serving girl.   “Leave me alone, idiot!” The girl in question hissed, shooting him a deadly glare, almost hitting him with a heavy platter she was carrying. He made nothing of it, laughing joyfully, glad at the attention he was getting, even if it was negative.   “Bards. What a lot.” Aza snarled, observing the scene from her spot at the counter. Yeah, Mikael was an asshole. She took another sip of her mead, the stuff was amazing, far better than the imported mead she occasionally drank in Cyrodiil. She frowned when another cramp pierced her abdomen. Her monthly visitor was going to arrive soon, most likely tomorrow. She had to act fast, then find some comfy hole to crawl into until her period is over.   “Heard any new gossip lately?” Aza addressed the innkeeper, glancing every now and then at her mark.   “The Greybeards have summoned the Dragonborn to High Hrothgar.” Hulda said, leaning over the counter, visibly excited. “Such a thing has not happened in years!”   “Mhm.” Aza nodded, staring into her cup, angry at herself for asking. No matter, this wasn’t the time to be thinking about the Dragonborn or the Greybeards, she had an arrogant bard do teach a lesson first.   “Thank you, friends, thank you! Alas, my voice needs some rest. But fear not, I will return soon.” Mikael declared after he finished singing another ballad. “Ysolda, my sweet. Good to see you again!” He halted on his way upstairs to greet a woman enjoying dinner at one of the single tables. “Perhaps you’d like to accompany me to my suite?” He asked with a wink.   “Not even if you were the last man on Nirn!” Ysolda snapped, clutching her cup so tight that her knuckles got white.   “Your loss!” Mikael concluded cheerfully.   “Fun guy.” Aza remarked, finishing her drink.   “Mikael? He’s… a real character.” Hulda sighed, wiping the counter. “I like him, I really do. But with his attitude he’s only asking for trouble.”   “Really? Is he that popular with the ladies that he has to fear retribution from the men?” The heroine prodded.   “Ha!” Hulda laughed, taking the adventurer’s empty cup and plate. “No, I think it’s one of the women that will soon lose their patience and teach him some manners.”   “You got that right.” Aza thought with a nasty grin.   ---   Mikael sighed softly, thrusting into his own hand. With the other he pulled his shirt up, and was now stroking his nipple, just the way he liked it. The hem of the garment was secured in his mouth, otherwise the shirt would roll back down. He needed some release after yet another night of being ignored by…   “Watcha got there?” An unpleasant voice asked. “Need a hand?”   The bard gasped, looking over his shoulder, still biting on the linen material. A towering Redguard woman stood in the doorframe with a nasty look on her face. How did she creep up on him? What did she want?   “G-get out…!” He uttered, leaping from his chair, releasing the wet hem from between his teeth.   “Oh, please! Don’t let me interrupt your fun.” The woman urged sincerely, closing the door behind her and sliding the staple into place. “I’m not joking. I mean it.” She warned in a much bolder tone, seeing Mikael struggle to pull his pants back up. “Keep going.”   Mikael stood dumbfounded with his slick pink cock pointing at the floor, a droplet of precome dropping from the tip and onto the boards. Why was she here? Did she come to rob or hurt him? Seeing her armor and weapons he wouldn’t put it past her. But she didn’t seem to be interested in anything in the room aside from him. So… was she a crazy fan of some sort? Did his voice enchant yet another woman’s heart?   “Listen, I’m flattered and all, but I don’t do private performances. So, if you could leave me be…”   With speed unexpected from someone clad in heavy iron she leaped towards him, pushing the bard against the wall. Mikael gasped, but was smart enough not to scream. He stared at the brutish woman, unable to read the disturbingly playful look on her face.   “I hear you’re a bit of a manslut. The top fucker in all of Whiterun.” The Redguard said casually, reaching down to take his length into her hand. Her iron gauntlets were unpleasantly cold and rough, though her grip and pace were cool and professional. “I got to say, you strut around like a man with a big cock. Though I can clearly see… and feel that it’s just an act. How did you get that reputation with that thing?”   “It’s not the size that matters but technique!” Mikael, though confused and terrified, could not take the blow to his ego.   “Really?” The woman’s brow rose. “Show me your technique, then. Let me see you pamper your cock.”   “Are you crazy?!” Mikael snapped.   “Mmm… probably. Listen, I came here to beat the shit out of you for harassing a hard working single mother. But I’m going to be nice and just humiliate you instead. And you’re going to leave Mila’s mother alone or I’m going to come back. And next time I’ll just hurt you. Permanently. Maybe I’m going to break your jaw, maybe your fingers. Regardless, your career will be over. So, be a good boy and start jerking off for my amusement.” She withdrew, releasing Mikael’s cock. Uninvited, she sat in his chair, reaching for his humble supper.   The bard daren’t protest. He had no idea who she was or who sent her, but he knew a crazy bitch when he saw one. He coughed, massaging the back of his head, trying to gather his bearings. “Well… okay. But I have to be back to singing soon.” He conditioned, pulling his shirt up again.   “Then get to it.” The Redguard replied drily, helping herself to his food and drink. “Unless you prefer a smackdown. I’m game regardless.”   He wrapped both of his hands around his velvet shaft and thrusted into them. He grunted involuntarily, to the wretched woman’s glee.   “That girl, Olfina.” The Redguard noted offhandedly, chewing on a roasted rabbit leg. “She’s pretty. I like her hair.”   “Yes… she’s a fine lass.” Mikael agreed cautiously, wondering if he was walking into some sort of verbal trap. He bit his lip, the tips of his fingers tightening on his shaft.   “Do you like her?”   “None of your business.” He groaned, sweat beading on his upper lip.   “Humor me.” The intruder insisted with a smirk, her eyes focused not on Mikael’s face, but his prick.   “I can’t say I had much luck with her…” The bard confessed, having difficulty focusing. He couldn’t deny it – he loved to be the center of attention. Though the current circumstances were lass than preferable for him.   “What about that boyfriend of hers? Jon, was it?” The woman kept prodding. “I hear he’s a bard too. Did you ever hear him sing?”   “Once or twice.” Mikael admitted, pausing to pinch himself on the nipple. “He’s… okay.”   “Don’t lie to me. I know from the innkeeper you come to listen to him sing every time he performs. And you always stay after hours.”   “Shut up wench!” He hissed, figuring out her little game. “Who I stay with is none of your business.”   “You’re right.” She agreed, unaffected by the insult. “I’m the last person to judge. Though I find it funny that the bawdiest bard in the hold has difficulties confessing his feelings to the one person he has genuine interest in. But I guess it’s no use. You know he won’t leave his girlfriend for you. Tragic.”   “You… bitch!” He choked, grabbing hic cock and balls painfully hard, to divert his attention from the burning words that came from her damned mouth. “How dare… Who do you think you are?!”   The sound of a drum and a man singing about old heroes and their glory cut Mikael’s words short. It was Jon, singing one of the songs about Ysgramor and his five-hundred Companions. This must have been a spontaneous performance, otherwise Mikael would have known about it.   The Redguard chuckled, getting up and approaching him. The bard was red in the face, his cock flushed in his palm. He winced when she pulled her arm over his shoulder, steering him to the small balcony of his room.   “Let’s see what all the fuss is about, hm?” She proposed. Not bothering with a reply, she pulled Mikael to the balcony from where they could see the entire ground floor of the inn. People were gathered around the fireplace, where Jon Battle-Born was singing his heart out, accompanied by war drums. He was good.   “Stop, you made your point!” Mikael whispered, squirming in her grasp.   “Shh… do you want them to hear you?” Aza cautioned, reveling in the bard’s torment. “Relax. Enjoy the show.” She pushed the bard in front of her, Mikael grabbed the railing for support. “Stick your ass out and keep going.” She instructed, kneeling behind him.   Trembling, Mikael resumed stroking himself with his sweaty palms. He could do this, all he had to do was come before Jon finishes his song and breaks the spell on the crowd. He locked his misty eyes on Jon. Son of a bitch, why did he like that man so much? He tried to drown this unexpected affection in the arms of women, but it was all in vain. Whatever feminine affection he was receiving, genuine or hired, he just couldn’t stop thinking about Jon.   He gasped when the Redguard pulled his pants down all the way to his ankles and spread his ass wide. Her agile, wet tongue tested his pink tight hole, generously moistening it with saliva. Her hot breath between his shaved cheeks sent shivers up his spine. Mikael sighed with strain, his grip tightened.   “You taste nice.” She remarked before sliding her tongue against the length of his cleft. “Is that lavender soap?”   “I-I’m not a savage. I bathe regularly.” Mikael hissed, then moaned against his will when she stuck her tongue inside. He peered into Jon’s face illuminated by the fire, wishing it was he who ate his asshole out. Him, who had a firm grip on his hips. Him who would flip poor Mikael over a bench and fuck him senseless.   Aza closed her eyes, taking in the whole scene. Poor stupid bard and his unrequited feeling for a man who was already in a relationship. She remembered hearing from the innkeeper that Jon and Olfina’s families were engaged in a bitter feud. What an odd love triangle this was… Good thing she herself was an easy lover, ready to pack up and leave the next morning.   Mikael whined and tensed, his pale ass bucking against her tongue with each thrust of his hand. His eyes filled with tears of lust and frustration, blurring the image of Jon’s face. He muttered a name under his breath, ejaculating with force over the railing, his cum falling on the embers with a hiss. Just as he squeezed the last drop out, Jon finished his song. The crowd roared with applause, Olfina threw herself at Jon with a laugh, not bothering with the local gossips. Defeated and humiliated, Mikael averted his gaze.   “Sucks to be you.” The Redguard concluded, straightening up and playfully spanking his ass. “Stay away from Carlotta. Or I’ll be back.”   “Get out.” Was all he could say, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.   “Yeah, sure. My work here is done.” She replied with a nasty grin, then groaned and massaged her abdomen, feeling another wave of cramps. Her mission complete, she hobbled out of the bard’s room to get herself another drink downstairs before she leaves Whiterun and surely gets herself tangled up in another mess.

Chapter 3 - No good deed unpunished (Carlotta Valentia)

A few weeks later Aza was back in Whiterun, It would seem the city became her go-to pitstop. A lot had happened since she last visited. Against her better judgment she heeded the Greybeards summons and climbed the seven thousand steps to High Hrothgar. She trained with the monks for days, deepening her understanding of… whatever it was she could do with her voice. And the honorable Greybeards were more than happy to teach her. Alas, their interest in her was purely spiritual, and she descended the mountain hornier than ever, on her way to retrieve some old horn from a gods forsaken Nordic ruin.   The reasonable part of her screamed that she should just drop this idiotic endeavor and get back to her usual activities consisting of wandering the world, taking odd jobs and screwing whomever she pleased. But somehow, she couldn’t drop it. She wanted to, but couldn’t. And she was not happy about it.   She took a longer route around the mountain to avoid Helgen. And thankfully she hadn’t encountered any dragons on her way back. She did encounter some wolves, though. Their pelts fetched her a nice price with a travelling Khajiit merchant caravan, but her funds were running low. Her weapons were in pretty bad shape, her armor was already bent and could withstand only a blow or two before falling apart. She had to make some money fast if she wanted to keep herself afloat.   She entered the city shortly before closing time for most merchants, her stomach already grumbling. Should she go to the Bannered Mare and get herself a nice piece of roast? No… she spent the last days dining almost exclusively on dried meat and her stomach was protesting at the very thought of it. She could use some greens for a change.   “Fresh vegetables and ripe fruit for sale!” A woman’s warm voice called out from one of the market stalls.   “Hi! Can I get some pears? Oh, and I’d love some tomatoes if you have any.” Aza requested, approaching the stall.   The seller was an attractive Imperial woman in her early thirties. Though weary from hard work she had a certain… glow to her. And a smile that came so naturally to her that one could not help but return it.   “Of course. I have some apples as well if you’re interested. They’re not fully ripe yet, but if you’re hitting the road you can keep them in your knapsack for a few days before they go bad.” The woman offered.   “Mama, can I have a Septim to get myself some pie from Hulda?” A little girl appeared out of nowhere, wrapping her arms around the woman’s waist like only an affection-starved daughter could.   “In a moment, little fairy. I have a customer.” The woman replied patiently, stroking the girl’s cheek. “Apologies.”   The child turned her fact to Aza. The adventurer remembered the kid, it was Mila. So, her mother must have been the famed Carlotta Valentia.   “No harm done.” The adventurer replied blandly, hoping the child won’t do or say something that would warrant an explanation to her mother. She knew she was an unsavory type and Carlotta needn’t worry about the caliber of people her daughter talked to.   “Hello! How are you?” Mila instinctively bid, taking the worst possible moment to be a well-mannered child.   “I’m… okay. Thanks for asking.” Aza replied, cursing the kid’s proper upbringing. She quickly paid and was on her way, chomping on a soft and juicy pear.   “Mila, do you know that lady?” Carlotta asked casually, stroking her daughter’s hair, her gaze following the adventurer’s tall silhouette.   “N-no!” Mila swore a bit too vigorously.   “Little fairy.” Carlotta sighed, getting on her knee so she could be on the same eyelevel with her child. “I don’t like it when you lie. It’s okay, you can tell me. I just want to know if you’ve gotten into any trouble, okay?”   “Well… okay.” Mila sighed, deciding to come clean. “So, you remember that bard Mikael?”   ---   “It seems less lively in here.” The adventurer noted, looking around the eerily quiet establishment.   “Aye. Mikael suddenly packed up and left for Solitude. He said he needed to clear his head and think some things over.” Hulda sighed heavily, pouring her patron another drink. “I think he finally fell for someone. Someone who wouldn’t return his feelings. A shame, really. He could be a bit too much, but he drew in a lot of clients. I have Jon performing now, but his repertoire is less… cheerful. Don’t get me wrong, I like a heroic ballad as much as the next person. But it wouldn’t kill him to sing something more lighthearted from time to time… Carlotta!” She called out in surprise, her face lighting up. “So good to see you! I was wondering when you’ll be back.”   “Good to see you too, Hulda.” The Imperial greeted, sitting next to the Redguard adventurer. “Can I get two ales? The special ones from your cellar.” She specified. Aza was sure Carlotta wanted Hulda away for a moment, so she could grill the adventurer with questions. Well… shit.   “You come here often?” She asked casually, breaking the awkward silence.   “I used to come here every evening. But then I had Mila… and later I had to suffer some unwanted male attention. But now that my daughter is older and I don’t need to worry about being harassed by any bards I think I’ll start coming more often. Thank you by the way.”   “Don’t mention it.” Aza muttered, raising her mug, realizing too late that it was empty.   “Mila is a good child. Though, sometimes she can get some pretty strange ideas.”   “Like hiring a vagrant to teach an arrogant bard some manners. Listen…” Aza dared to look Carlotta in the eyes. “I did it because I needed a distraction and I thought the whole affair funny. You don’t need to worry about me bothering your family. I’m sure you have enough problems.”   “One less problem thanks to you.” Carlotta said unexpectedly warmly. “I am not here to tell you to mind your business or stay away from us. I don’t think you’re that kind of person. I just want to buy you a drink and have some conversation.”   “You really needn’t. It’s late and you have a daughter to go home to.” The Redguard tried to discourage Carlotta, feeling awkward from receiving so much gratitude from the woman. In her life as an adventurer she learned that the best she could usually hope for was a light coinpurse and maybe some furs next to a fire to rest before getting back on the road.   “She’s staying over at a friend’s house tonight. This is my first free evening in a long time.” Carlotta remained adamant. “I’d like to spend it in someone pleasant company.”   “You have some odd ideas about what pleasant company is.” Aza laughed, blinking her blind eye. “But I won’t say no to free drinks.”   Hulda arrived with their ales shortly. The two drank and chatted until it got late and both were pretty buzzed.   “It’s getting pretty late. Could you walk me home?” Carlota requested with a whimsical smile.   “Sure. Just lead the way.” Aza agreed without thinking.   The two women walked out of the inn into the cool night. The streets were quiet, not a soul in sight except for the occasional guard. Whiterun was a sleepy city, nice and boring. They traversed the market and climbed up the stairs to the Winds District. Whilst they walked Carlotta made some idle chatter, supporting herself on Aza’s shoulder. She smelled nice, warm. They passed the temple of Kynareth, halting before a humble but picturesque cottage.   “Do you want to come in?” The Imperial offered, fumbling for her key.   “You’re not as drunk as you want me to believe, right?” Aza guessed, leaning against the house’s wall.   “No. And neither are you. So, would you like to come in?” Carlotta repeated, relaxed and yet there was want in her eyes.   “This is just a one night thing, right?” Aza made sure. “I don’t want to complicate things for you two.”   “And you won’t. I just…” The woman hesitated trying to find the right words.   “You want to taste a bit of adventure with a dashing stranger who will be gone in the morning?” Aza suggested with a whimsical smile.   “Exactly! Oh!” Carlotta covered her mouth, realizing her words could be misunderstood. “Mara, that sounded so callousl Like I just want to use and discard you. I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant, I just hoped-”   “You’re babbling.” Aza noted, raising a finger. “It’s alright. I’m an easy lover. We’ll just have some fun, no strings attached. You could use some company, I could use some company as well. And we’re being transparent with each other, so no one is getting hurt.”   “Look who’s babbling now.” Carlotta snickered, finally finding her key. “Come on in…”   Her house was the essence of cozy. Small, but not too small to feel cramped. Furnished simply, but not scarcely. Clean, and yet one could tell a family was living there.   “Are you hungry?” Carlotta asked, bustling around the cooking area to light the fire.   “I’m good.” Aza assured, putting her weapons and knapsack aside. She could tell Carlotta was now wondering whether she acted on impulse. She had that tell-tale look in her eyes and awkward stance. “Hey…” She uttered softly, taking a step towards the Imperial. There was at least a foot of difference in height between them.   “Uh… yes?” Carlotta asked, lifting her gaze from the burning embers.   “Do you want to kiss me?” The Redguard offered with a smirk.   Carlotta exhaled a soft breath, realizing she was holding it in for so long. She reached to cup the back of the taller woman’s head. Standing on her toes she brushed her lips against Aza’s. Gently, Aza put her hands on Carlotta’s waist, pulling her closer as they kissed slowly. They could taste the ale on each other.   “Take me to bed.” Carlotta panted, hungry for more.   Aza laughed scooping the Imperial from the floor bridal-style. Unhurriedly, she carried her to the bedroom where they both fell on the bed. It was large enough for the two of them, the mattress firm and bouncy. Carlotta’s warm scent on the sheets mixing with lavender.   Carlotta was on top of Aza, kissing her with more confidence, cooing softly into her mouth. Her crotch grinded against the adventurer’s thigh. Her soft lips sucked on Aza’s tongue before introducing her own. They broke off their kiss, peering into each other’s eyes.   Mara, they both needed this.   “How do you get this thing off?” The Imperial uttered impatiently, struggling with the adventurer’s chestpiece.   “It’s half-rusted.” Aza said, feeling a prick of self-consciousness about the quality of her gear. “Let me do it.”   Cursing and grunting she got her armor off with some difficulty, to her host’s amusement. Meanwhile, Carlotta slipped out of her modest merchant dress with next to no effort.   “Here, let me help you.” She offered, as Aza began struggling with the padding she wore underneath.   She was undressed in a moment. Carlotta straddled her, her soft rich bush brushing against Aza’s neatly trimmed strip. Carlotta marveled at the curves and muscles of the woman, letting her hands wander the adventurer’s scarred body. Her hand stopped at an old scar on the abdomen, reaching all the way from the navel to her womb. Aza tensed, looking away.     “You smell so good.” She purred, resting flat on the Redguard, their chests squishing together.   “I’m sweaty.” Aza replied apologetically, stroking her back, thankful Carlotta did not ask about the scar.   “So what?” The Imperial dismissed, sliding lower to give Aza’ chest some attention.   She cupped the Redguard’s breasts, pressing them firmly together. The adventurer gasped when Carlotta bowed her head to suck on her nipples, her wet tongue dancing around the hard velvet nubs. She arched her back, sinking her hands into Carlotta’s silky hair. Gods, she missed a woman’s touch.   “Haha… you’re quick.” She panted when Carlotta’s sleek fingers gently rubbed her vulva, the flushed lips already parting from the wetness growing inside. Aza hadn’t even noticed when the merchant’s hand slid down her abdomen. Now that she completely gave into her desires, Carlotta was revealing her more direct side.   Carlotta smirked, biting Aza’s nipple and pulling at it before releasing, the adventurer’s breast jiggling in response. “I know what I want. Is this good for you?” She made sure, testing if she could slide her fingers inside.   “Yesss…” Aza breathed as Carlotta pushed two fingers in, gently spreading her slippery walls. “You got the touch… ah…” She bit her lip, rocking her hips against the agile fingers sliding in and out of her pussy with a wet sound. “Carlotta… get on top of me. I want to eat you out.” She pleaded looking down at the Imperial imploringly, realizing she of all people was blushing.   “Kiss me first.” The woman conditioned playfully, curling her fingers and conjuring a hoarse gasp from the adventurer.   They locked lips, moaning softly. Aza embraced her partner tight, greedily squeezing her behind. Gods, Carlotta was soft. She could melt into her…   “Mara, you’re strong!” Carlotta squirmed.    “Sorry.” Aza said apologetically, lessening her grip.   “No, I like that. Do you want to do the ‘Victor and Victoria with me’?” She asked, biting her lip with anticipation.   “You mean the 69?” Aza guessed. “Sure!”   Neither of them had the patience to go over the difference between Imperial and Redguard numerals. Carlotta shifted her position, her soft wet mound hovering over Aza’s face. The adventurer wasted no time, spreading the woman’s glimmering pussy wide open with her thumbs, exposing her tender pink flesh. She licked the overflowing entrance, savoring the mature flavor of Ms. Valentia.   Carlota let out a low, ragged whimper. Yes, Mara, this was what she needed. Someone to eat her pussy good. Someone to give her a bit of fun and expect nothing but fun in return. Ah… Gods, Aza’s tongue was inside her, the rough side curling and grinding against her walls. Yes, just like that.   She bowed her head, her lips closing around the dark, hard clit of the woman below her. She sucked hard, pushing her fingers inside without warning. Aza let out a pleased (albeit muffled) groan, her hips swaying from side to side to let Carlotta know she was doing a good job. She curled her fingers inside, finding that tender, special spot…   …Aza’s strong legs slid wide apart as a white-hot sensation shot from her abdomen and up her spine. “Yes, there, right there.” She muttered feverishly from underneath the Imperial. Gods, Carlotta knew how to work another woman’s body.   She pinched and rolled the Imperial’s clit, her tongue pushing back inside Carlotta’s pussy, unbothered that the woman’s juices were dripping down her face and neck. She didn’t mind getting wet and dirty as long as it felt good.   Carlotta gasped, grinding her tongue against Asa’s clit. She was going to come first and she would have none of that. Breathing with strain, she spread her fingers wide apart inside Aza’s eager pussy, thrusting with more force, conjuring a surprised grunt from below.   “Let’s come together, okay?” She pleaded, her ass pushing against the agile tongue. “I-I’m almost there.”   “Right behind you.” The adventurer breathed hoarsely, her fingers rolling Carlotta’s clit fast.   The two of them cried, coming in unison. Carlotta whimpered, tears of joy rolled down her face. Yes, yes, Mara, this was what she longed for during those restless nights! Her walls clenched around Aza’s tongue, pulsing rhythmically before giving into sweet numbness. She rested on top of the adventurer, her fingers rhythmically squeezed by Aza’s convulsing pussy. Gods, this was good. Simple and carefree.   Lazily, she shifted to rest next to Aza, her head resting on the Redguard’s heaving chest. The adventurer held her closer, planting a lazy kiss on her forehead. Neither of them said anything, panting and sweaty, enjoying the moment before inevitably slipping into sleep.   ---   Aza woke up at the crack of dawn with Carlotta still clinging to her side, the Imperial’s peaceful breath caressing her nipple. Morhwa, she was so pleasantly soft and warm… It was time to go. Gently, she slid out of the woman’s embrace, careful as not to wake her up. She got dressed, allowing herself to take one last look at Carlotta. She looked so radiant in the morning light with her lips slightly parted and her hair spilled all over the pillow…   She gulped, embarrassed by her own tenderness. It was definitely time to go.   The door creaked ever so slightly closing behind her. She breathed in the cool morning air, thankful it was misty outside, reducing the chance of someone catching her leaving the house. She had her provisions, so it was time to go retrieve that blasted horn for the Greybeards.   “Had your fun?” A woman’s dominant voice called from somewhere above. “Satisfied?”   Aza instinctively put her hands on her swords handles. “Depends. Am I going to regret it now?” She asked, looking up to meet with a feral-looking redhead with green warpaint perched on top of Carlotta’s roof.   The unknown woman grinned predatorily, sliding off the roof, landing gracefully in front of Aza.   “I’ve been waiting all night for you to be done, so I’ll cut this short.” She huffed, brushing back her hair. “I am Aela the Huntress, of the Companions.”   “Good for you.” Aza sneered, her gut telling her that she was in the process of getting herself in a new mess. Gods, why?   “I’m sure Carlotta was very thankful for you taking care of Mikael. Persistent little bastard, that one.” Aela grinned predatorily.   “Why so sure it was me?” Aza groaned, hoping to maneuver herself away from this Aela person, but the Companion seemed to predict her every move, blocking her means of escape.   “Don’t play coy. Yesterday I was lucky enough to eavesdrop on Carlotta grilling her daughter for answers. My hearing is exceptionally sharp, believe me. The kid must have dumped her entire life savings to hire you.” Aela laughed, for a second exposing her oddly… sharp teeth.   “That’s none of your business.” Aza grew tired, knowing this will end in a fight.   “Oh, it is. You see, we were already contracted by someone close to Carlotta Valentia to handle her little bard problem. But lo and behold, before one of ours could get to it, you swooped in and took care of it for us. We were contacted first, so you owe us half of whatever you’ve earned.”   “You fucking fighters guild types…” The Redguard grunted.   “We’re not a fighters guild!” Aela protested, truly offended. “We’re much more than that. Now, come along. You got some explaining to do.”   Aza’s eyelid twitched. Was this little Nord bitch serious? She was a few inches shorter and several pounds lighter than Aza and yet she had an attitude of someone confident she would win in a fight! And she was armed with only a tiny steel dagger whilst Aza had two swords!   “Bring it!” The adventurer dared, reaching for her weapons.   A second later she was sitting on the ground, covering her bleeding nose. The fight was over even before it began.   “Jorrvaskr. Now. But go ahead and run if you’d like, I can never refuse a good hunt just before breakfast.” Aela taunted rubbing her fist before unhurriedly walking towards the legendary meadhall.

Chapter 3 - Mornign After

Next morning Reyes woke up the in his apartment alone, blueballed and hungover. Semiconsciously, he reached for a glass of water and seltzer he left for himself on the nightstand the evening prior.   "And a good morning to you, babe." He addressed his costume's pumpkin head resting on the window still. Unsurprisingly, there was no answer.   His phone vibrated with a subtle chime - someone sent  him a text. Reluctantly, he reached for the device to open the mystery message.   It was a photo of two cocks, fully erect, pressing against each other, both glistening with precum. He needn't see the faces to determine who were the owners of said cocks, he knew their shapes and colors well. McCree and Morrison. Those motherfuckers. To make things even more insulting, the picture came with a text at the bottom - "Wish you we're here, boss."   "Sons of…!" Before he could finish the profanity-strung sentence, he got a second message.   It was another photo, but this time with faces - Tracer posing for a selfie next to sleeping Mercy. They were in the doctor's bed - he'd recognize those Egyptian cotton sheets anywhere. Oxton had a wide grin on her face, and just like McCree she included a short message with her photo - "Thanks for the taxi money, love!"   Reyes locked his phone and put it aside surprisingly gently. He pressed his palms together as if he were praying and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He opened them after a longer pause, now knowing what he must do.   "I have to destroy Overwatch." He said to himself in a tone both tranquil and full of purpose.

Chapter 3 - Dangerous Minds

After a few hours of dreamless sleep Caye woke up in her own bed. Her eyes remained closed, her instincts telling her that she was not alone. So… someone picked her up, carried her to her room and laid to bed. And they were still here. She rolled on her back, realizing no foreign bodies shifted inside her. That unknown someone must have removed the gold coins from her pussy as well. They didn’t dress her, though.   “I know you’re awake. I can tell.” A familiar voice said, offended by her caution.   “Good morning, Delan.” She bid, sitting up to face Ulva’s swiftest (and most discreet) courier.   He was a Dunmer as well, though only half her age. He occupied the only chair in the room, sitting painfully stiff, still in his travel clothes. The neatly stacked gold glinted next to his elbow on the small writing table. The look on his face said it all. That mix of horror and sympathy with just a dash of embarrassment. Did she really look that bad? She was sore all over, so she could only imagine what a pitiful picture she presented.   “I bumped into Malak last night.” He explained, averting his eyes from her naked form. “He told me what happened between you and the Mistress. And what the three of them did to you. I rushed to the common room and I found you discarded by those savages after they… violated you.”   Caye said nothing, crawling out of bed with some effort to approach her tall mirror in order to get a better look at herself. Delan gulped with difficulty, desperately trying not to look at her. A few bruises here and there, but nothing too serious. Her makeup smeared all over her face was more embarrassing than the markings on her body. She badly needed a bath.   “I was not violated. I was punished.” She said unceremoniously, raking her hand through her hair. Morgan’s cum dried off some time ago, leaving it unpleasantly stiff. She swallowed, the taste of the Breton and Hakin still on her tongue. She made a mental note to thoroughly wash her mouth with strong alcohol she had stashed in her alchemy cabinet.   “Yes, Malak mentioned that. I can’t believe the Mistress proposed something so awful.” He shrugged, finally deciding to focus his wandering eyes on the ceiling.   “I was being disrespectful to her. I deserved it.” She stated blandly, turning around to see in the mirror just how reddened her ass was. Severely, she determined.   “How can you say that?!” He cried, jumping out of the chair. “She wronged you! How can you just take it like… like she owns you!”   “She does own me. She owns all of us. Have you forgotten?” Caye reminded, unaffected by the outburst. Delan was still young, but he needed to learn to control his emotions. And his tongue.   “No, of course not.” The youngster replied, taking a grip of himself.   “She found this form of punishment fitting for my transgressions. Do you question her judgement?” She prodded, crossing her arms, ever watchful for any sign of disobedience to the Mistress.   “No. Never.” He assured with a barely noticeable hint of reluctance.   “I’m glad to hear that. Thank you for helping me to bed last night. I appreciate it. Although I’m not sure why you stayed and watched me sleep. Now, you’re still here so there’s something you want to ask me. Correct?”   “I… I do.” He confessed, reaching out to touch her shoulder, pausing for just a second before brushing his fingers against her skin, puffing a soft breath. She needn’t words to guess what he wanted to ask. “I-I’m not like those other men. I’m not a brute or a sadist.”   “It doesn’t matter. Just say what you want me to do. Or do to me whatever you please. Right now, if you want. I won’t protest.” She proposed, somewhat amused at this awkward display.   “No. I don’t want it like that.” He protested vigorously, some odd hunger burning in his red eyes. “Can you meet me after dark?”   “Morgan wants me for himself tonight.” Caye said with a shrug, the rumors she heard about the Breton gave her the creeps.   “Tomorrow, then. Come to my quarters.” Delan requested, barely able to control his anticipation.   ---   “Welcome, welcome! I’m so glad you could make it!” Morgan greeted, opening his door wide, beckoning her to enter.   “Are you religious?” Caye asked, stepping in and covering her nose from the heavy scent of incense. “Your room smells like the Temple of the Divines.” She muttered, trying to adjust to the atmosphere. And not just in terms of fragrance. Being alone with Morgan made her uneasy.     “I like the smell of incense. It brings back some of my most tender memories.” The Breton revealed cheerfully, rubbing his hands in anticipation. “How was your day?” He made conversation, allowing his guest to take a good look at his quarters. From the furnishings one could determine that Morgan loved three things; books, arcane paraphernalia and pornographic art.   “Busy. I needed to finish my Thalmor report.” Caye informed, examining an ivory statue on the desk depicting a copulating couple. From their accessories and stylization she could determine the couple were Sanguine and Dibella. Perverse and sacrilegious, just like the mage.   “Ever the dutiful one.” He chuckled, smoothening his salt and pepper goatee.   “Morgan… to the point?” Caye’s brow rose as she began to unlace the front of her sleeveless robe. She was smart enough to dress in clothes she wouldn’t miss in case they get ripped or stained beyond salvation.   “Please! A bit of conversation first. Unlike yesterday, let’s take things slow and get in the mood.”   “Should I flutter my eyelashes?” She asked drily, allowing him to lead her to a bookshelf taking the entire space of the wall. She glanced at the neatly catalogued tomes. Most of them dealt in the arcane, but there was the occasional dirty book amongst his impressive collection.   “Don’t bother. I prefer your reactions to be more… spontaneous.” He cracked a smile that gave Caye the chills. He was always so nauseatingly pleasant and polite, making it painfully obvious that he was hiding something. Something dark and twisted. “I think I finally perfected my spell. It’s a rather… carnal one.” He revealed, leaning over to her confidentially. “I’d love to get your feedback.”   “I’m no magic expert. I can hit things with lightning or set them on fire, that is all.” She excused diplomatically, trying to figure out his little game.   “Don’t worry, you don’t need to have any deeper understanding of the arcane to share your input.” Morgan dismissed, retrieving from the bookshelf a tome bound in patchwork black and greenish leather. He gazed at the cover for a brief second, tenderly stroking the unfamiliar gilded letters on the front of the book. The elf bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to remain in place, despite her gut telling her to get as far away from Morgan as possible.   “It’s such a terrible shame so many wonderous tomes have been seized and burned by the Vigilants of Stendarr.” He sighed, opening the book to flip through the yellowed pages. “But thankfully not all of them. Do come closer dear, there’s something I want to show you.”   Against her will, Caye took a step towards the mage. Wasting no time, Morgan slung his arm around her waist, tapping his finger on an illustration, whilst the book remained suspended in the air with magic. The picture depicted a female dangling upside down with some sort of seal or sigil below her. She was being held by several slick, black tentacles coiled around her spread legs, whilst more black tendrils were wrapped around her waist and arms, keeping them pinned to her back. All this so that even more tentacles could thrust into her mouth and pussy as well as asshole. The picture was detailed enough so that the elf could see a clear bulge poking through the female’s abdomen and thick ropes of liquid shooting from her holes.   “This one is my favorite, though I also like this one.” Morgan whispered sweetly into her ear, flicking the page to show her another obscene drawing.   This time it was another female of undetermined race, depicted laying on her back spread eagle with the same sigil under her and tentacles holding her down by the wrists and ankles. Three black tentacles were intertwined in a sort of braid formation, stretching her twat beyond reasonable possibilities. The elf could not determine if the look on the face of the woman was of overwhelming extasy or unimaginable pain. She shrugged, finally figuring out the mage’s intentions.   “You can’t be serious.” She breathed, forcing herself to remain calm and ignore how the hairs at the back of her neck rose.   “Oh, I am.” Morgan swore, his smile widened.   “Ulva said I am not to be harmed.” Caye reminded sternly.   “And you won’t be. Trust me, this isn’t the first time I do this. You will be perfectly safe. But I’m going to be honest with you, the sensation can be overwhelming. And there are side effects, so please don’t be alarmed during the process.”   “What side effects?” The elf asked apprehensively, despite Morgan’s suggestion growing visibly alarmed.   “You’ll find out soon. I’ve already informed Eylly, she will come over to collect you once we are done. She will help you recover. But for now, enjoy. And please, don’t hold back if you feel like screaming. I had my room enchanted to muffle any sounds from within, so you needn’t worry about making a ruckus.”   With that he stepped away, releasing the tome from suspension. Caye caught it instinctively, the stitched together leather covers felt unpleasantly slick to her touch. She slammed the pages shut, observing the mage make himself comfortable in a luxurious high chair and pour himself some wine. Morgan caught her piercing stare, smiling ever so slightly and raising his glass in a mocking toast. The Dunmer’s lips pressed into a thin line and she acted on impulse, throwing the book at him. But to her surprise the tome bounced back from some unseen barrier and fell on the carpet with a muffled thud. Caye grunted, realizing she walked into a magic trap.   She felt a subtle vibration coming from under her feet. Her eyes dropped and her stomach tightened as she made out faintly glowing outlines of a magic sigil on the carpet, the exact same she just saw in the obscene book. Frustrated, she threw herself at the unseen obstacle, banging at thin air with her fists, shouting obscenities at the Breton, somewhat glad the room was muffled.   “My, I’ve never expected such passion coming from you.” Morgan purred, enjoying every second of the spectacle, swirling his wine inside the thin glass whilst his other hand wandered down to caress a slowly building bulge under his robe.   “I swear, once this ordeal is over, Morgan, I’ll…!”   Sadly, the Dunmer was not able to finish the sentence. She was too focused on piercing the mage with ger glare, that she hadn’t noticed slick, glistening tendrils rising from within the sigil. Just as she was about to fully form her threat one tentacle wrapped itself around her throat, sharply pulling her back. A surprised cry escaped the elf’s lips before the tip of the tentacle slid into her mouth, teasing the length of her tongue and smoothly going down her throat. She gagged on the foreign body and her own drool, coughing up and making a mess of her chin and neckline. The taste was overwhelming; musky and rich. She clenched her jaws in a futile attempt to defend herself, but the grip around her throat tightened just as her teeth sunk into the black tendril.   Caye gasped and choked, her vision blurred from lack of air and the futile tears that pooled in the corners of her eyes. She lost her balance and staggered back. In mere seconds several more tentacles wrapped themselves around her waist and chest, as well as her wrists and thighs. The glossy tendrils suspended her in the air in a horizontal position with her wrists pinned to her back and thighs spread wide.   “Oh, such a pity.” Morgan sighed as more tendrils descended upon her, sliding under her robe to sharply rip it apart. The dark blue silken shreds silently fluttered to the floor as Caye continued struggling, powerless against the onslaught of the tentacles keeping her firmly in place so that the mage could freely stare at her naked body.   She bucked, breathing sharply through her nose. Azura, those gross things clung to her, constricting her movement and slicking her skin with whatever slippery substance they were covered with. The shafts were squirmy and thick, but not as nimble as the very tips. Speaking of which, two slithered up her chest to wrap themselves around her nipples. The elf involuntarily moaned in response, thankful the undignified sound she made was muffled by the tentacle that was still assaulting her mouth.   She tossed her head back, tightly shutting her eyes. She was certain Morgan was devouring the display with his eyes, getting off on the sight of her being completely helpless in the grasp of these vile things. No… she could feel them sliding up her thighs towards her pussy. She screamed, instantly choking on saliva and black girth as one particularly thick tentacle rubbed itself against her quivering slit, nesting itself between her smooth lips.   “This can’t be happening!” She thought, overtaken by humiliation and panic when the twitchy tip tested her tightly shut hole. “Azura, it’s going inside me!” She cried, when the first throbbing inch pushed inside her, followed by as much length as was physically possible.     And just as she formed her thought, a second tentacle curiously poked her asshole, coating the tight little pucker with its secretion before smoothly thrusting into her, easily breaching past the tightly shut ring. She groaned, madly tossing, fighting to save some dignity, but the smooth, wet girth that stretched her holes was unrelenting.     “Beautiful…” Morgan whispered, now entirely disrobed, the tip of his cock twitching in response to the delicious sight. Barely able to control his breath, the mage poured himself another glass, seizing his slim shaft in his palm, stroking himself unhurriedly.   He always preferred to watch than participate and this rare treat was his favorite spanking material. And by the gods and Daedric Princes, he would have never expected he would have Ulva’s favorite pet in his room, pounded away by the conjured tentacles like an offering. Watching her nimble frame twist and writhe in their slippery grasp was a one of a kind experience and Morgan was going to cherish this moment for years to come.   As if sensing his fascinated stare, Caye craned her head, conjuring all the disgust and hatred for the mage in her black eyes. Morgan smirked, setting his glass aside to make a quick incantation and gesture. The throbbing, slimy tendril pulled out of the Dunmer’s mouth, trailing a glistening trail of saliva.   “Was there something you wanted to say, dear?” He teased, pulling his foreskin down with one hand so he could caress his slick cockhead with the fingertips of the other.   “You twisted wretch.” Caye hissed, instantly falling into a strained whine when a new tendril slithered down her chest and stomach to begin rubbing itself against her clit. This, combined with the two girths pounding her cunt and ass along with more teasing her nipples, overloaded her with sensations both revolting and pleasurable. She bit down on her lip, missing the tentacle in her mouth. At least with it wriggling all the way down her throat she had a gag muffling the sickening sounds she was making against her will.   “Incredible, isn’t it? Don’t be ashamed to come, I would be worried that there’s something wrong with you if you’ don’t.”   “Oblivion take you!” The elf swore hopelessly, realizing with horror her little pussy was now relaxed and wet from her own juices building up inside her. And despite the tendrils wrapped around her, she was unconsciously spreading her legs as wide as she could, tilting her pelvis to the most desirable angle. She bent back humiliated by her willpower giving in to the gross pleasure these repulsive things offered. Tears streamed up her reddened face, just as her juices freely dripped out of her with every thrust of those damned things.   “I think they like you.” Morgan laughed, cradling his balls gently and jerking his cock with a slow and painfully tight grip. “It usually takes them a while to be this close to climax.”   “Climax?!” Caye thought, not liking the excitement in Morgan’s voice, like the perverted mage was waiting for some grand finale.   The pace of the tendrils grew faster and rougher. Suddenly, the shafts inside her began to pulsate and thicken, ripping a pathetic cry from her. It hurt, but being stretched like this felt embarrassingly good through the red mist of pain. Against her last shred of self-respect Caye reached climax, whether of pleasure or pain she couldn’t tell. She yowled  without restraint as the tentacles fucked her to the verge of madness.   She couldn’t take any more of the friction and heat inside her, but those things still rutted into her and rubbed themselves against her body. Gods, please, just make them stop, just have those things finish in their own way and leave her be.   “Azura, no!” She screamed feeling the one in her pussy shove its slim tip against her cervix, breaching right into her womb. Caye saw white and screamed full volume, losing her mind as it spasmed and went rigid before spewing thick, plentiful ropes of its load inside her. Her uterus filled and swell with its cum and when it became too much to contain it spilled out of her violently, gushing high pressured creamy streams. Then, the tentacle in her ass followed suit. The load that was shot into her asshole went deep into her gut, but the poor little elf could only take so much, before it too flowed outside her, loudly pouring onto the floor.   An ecstatic sigh followed as Morgan came himself, blissful and deep in his own depravity.   The grip of the countless tendrils finally eased and Caye slipped out of their grasp, hitting the thoroughly moistened carpet with a thud. She groaned, twitching uncontrollably, whilst hot, plentiful streams gushed out of her asshole and pussy. She opened her eyes with some difficulty, glaring at the mage’s direction, but the unfamiliar sight just a few inches from her face made her eyes widen with shock. Her usually flat stomach was round and bulging as if the elf were preparing to be a mother.   “Don’t be alarmed, this can happen sometimes.” Morgan assured, hastily flinging on his robe. He reached Caye in a few long steps, pulling her up to rest her head on his laps. He pressed his palm against the Dunmer’s bulging abdomen, pushing down lightly, causing another stream to shoot out of her.  “Yes… you took a lot of it in you through all your orifices. I must say, I’m impressed. Not many of my test subjects manage to remain conscious after the process. How do you feel?”   “…ill you…” Caya managed to whisper, too weak to reach up and push her thumbs into the bastard’s eye sockets.   “Pardon?” Morgan inquired, bowing his head to hear her better.   “I’ll kill you, Morgan. Not tonight, but one day you’ll slip. And I’ll be waiting.” Caye swore, fighting to keep her face still and her hazy eyes focused on the Breton.   “Sounds exciting.” The wretched mage laughed lightheartedly, cupping Caye’s grazed and swollen vulva. “I love a challenge!”   Caye sighed, angry at herself for enjoying how cold his hands were. She closed her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts and ignore how sore and numb she was feeling all over. Gods, what were the sensations she just had? Whatever those conjured things were, they assaulted every inch of her body and every hole they could. There was shock, fear and pain, but there was something else. Azura, did she really have an orgasm just now or was it just her brain giving away, overloaded by the stimulation?   She hissed, digging her nails into Morgan’s knee when he slipped his fingers into her stretched twat.   “Oh, your cervix is swollen.” He assessed, rubbing his fingertips against the throbbing and hurting inner ring. “That’s going to be a problem if you want their fluid out of you. But I’ll leave that to Eylly. Speaking of which…” He turned his head with a smile hearing a knock on the door. “Please come in, we’re quite done here!”   Eylly entered the Mager’s quarters. Her cold green eyes surveyed the room with cool professionalism. It was apparent this was not her first time cleaning up after Morgan’s depraved experiments.   “She’s conscious.” The Altmer noted, dispassionately looking at Caye’s sweaty face. “Impressive, they’re usually knocked out cold. That is, if they survive your sick games. And I see she’s pumped full of your conjured pet’s seed. No matter, I’ll see to it. ”   “I went easy on her, believe it or not.” Morgan rebutted with dignity, pushing Caye off his laps and standing up. “She’s all yours.”   “Wonderful. Come along little slut. I’ll get you back to normal before your next playdate.”   With strain, Caye picked herself up. She shook her head, channeling all her strength to put one foot in front of her other. She suddenly felt dizzy, stumbling to the side and painfully hitting her hip against Morgan’s desk. The sacrilegious statue of Sanguine copulating with Dibella toppled and fell off the edge of the desk, shattering into pieces on the floor.   “You wench! You’ll pay for that!” Morgan yelled, clenching his fists. He would have leaped and choked the wretch if it weren’t for Eylly’s dangerously raised finger. His turn playing with the little slut was over.   “Clumsy me.” Caye apologized insincerely with a faint mischievous smile, following Eylly out of the chamber, unbothered that she was soaked in fluids, bruised and naked. She wanted to get away from Morgan as quick as possible.

Chapter 0 - This is what happens when you cross the Guild

“Mjoll is a growing nuisance.” Mercer grumbled, going through his papers. He lifted his gaze from the stack of letters, focusing at his second in command.   “I know.” Brynjolf sighed, pacing in front of the Guildmaster’s desk like an agitated hound. “Last night I saw her sniffing around the cemetery. I think she’s starting to suspect where our backdoor is.”   “Maven is screaming in my ear that we do something about her… Or she’s calling the Dark Brotherhood.” Mercer went on, leaning back in his chair, somewhat amused at his subordinate’s frustration. “I’m tempted to just have Astrid and her ‘family’ take out the trash for us.”   “No, let’s handle things our way. Quick, bloodless and neatly swept under the rug.” The redhead cut in, offended by the very idea of the Brotherhood doing the Guild’s wetwork. “Besides, Riften is our city and Mjoll is our problem. Let me handle her.”   “I don’t share your optimism… but go ahead. Work your magic. But if you fail, I’m handing this mess over to Astrid.” The Breton conditioned.   “Please. I’m a professional.”   ---   “You’re awfully quiet, Mjoll.” Aerin noted cautiously, glancing across the table at his companion. “You barely touched your food, is something wrong?”   “No.” The woman lied, abruptly getting up from her chair. “I… Ugh!” She groaned frustrated, heavily sitting down. Embarrassed by her own outburst, she reached for her drink and downed it in one loud gulp, avoiding eye contact.   “Did something happen?” The Imperial asked concerned. She woke up in a sour mood which had only gotten worse as the day went on. A frown had not left her face since morning, she seemed fixated on some unpleasant thoughts, winding herself up, but having no means of release for pent up frustration. Something was up.   “No! Uh… yes. It’s, it’s-”   “I know this city is getting to you.” Aerin interrupted, looking at her with pure admiration. “Riften is a hive of scum and villainy, the townsfolk are lucky to have you. And I… um… am lucky to have you. As a friend, of course!” He assured, looking away, hoping she wouldn’t notice the tenderness that crept into his gaze.   “Thank you, Aerin. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Mjoll replied, oblivious of her companion’s true feelings. “I’m sorry for troubling you. I… think I’ll go to bed early tonight. I feel a headache approaching.”   She quickly excused herself from their supper and headed upstairs. Once alone in the comfort of her modest room, she sat on her bed in complete darkness, her clenched fists resting on her laps. Minutes passed and she could hear Aerin heading to his quarters. She waited a few more minutes before reaching under the bed to retrieve a package wrapped in linen sheet. She undid the leather straps, revealing an old, battered scabbard fitting a greatsword. This was the scabbard of Grimsever, her beloved blade, thought to have been lost in a Dwemer ruin.   The scabbard was the first thing she saw when she woke up that morning. It waited for her, propped against the outer side of the window, as if peeking inside. No Grimsever, but there was a note attached: ‘The fishery tonight after midnight. Come alone’. She had a bad feeling that whoever delivered the scabbard was not a friend. Someone wanted her alone in a secluded location and was using her blade as a lure.   Whoever it was, Mjoll was not afraid of them.   There was no point in dwelling, she had to act! She abruptly sprang up, the simple wooden bedframe creaked in response. Midnight was approaching, she had little time to waste. She realized her shoulders were covered in goosebumps, though it was most likely the tepid chill so characteristic to Riften. Cautiously, she crept out of her room and down the stairs, her banded iron armor betraying her every move. Mjoll couldn’t sneak to save her life. Thank the Divines, Aerin was a heavy sleeper.   The night was dark, both Masser and Secunda were in new moon. A blanket of thick fog entombed the city, the Lioness couldn’t see past a few feet in front of her. Pumping herself up mentally for the upcoming confrontation, Mjoll headed towards the lakeside part of the city. Maintaining her characteristic quick, confident pace she crossed the sleepy market, well aware that the quiet exterior was just a façade. Most of the people were drinking their money away at the Bee and Barb… or less savory bars, far away from decent people. Riften was a cunning beast, a true nocturnal predator.   She nodded at a passing by guard, thankful they had not stopped her to ask where she was going this late. She wasn’t sure if she could overcome her honest nature and make up some convenient lie. She passed the forge, the embers within slowly dying away into the foggy night. The rotting wooden door leading to the docks gave away with some effort.   Mjoll crossed the slippery pier, halting before the unassuming building of Riften fishery. The windows were dark, what should she do? Should she just knock? Unsure of how to proceed, she reached for the door handle. To her surprise the door was unlocked, opening with a creak letting out the musty air. The heroine boldly entered.   It was dark. The fishery smelled of wet wood, salt and fish. Mjoll took a moment to adjust to the gloom, covering her nose and mouth from the stench of fish entrails. The building was eerily still, only the lapping of water and creaking of the wooden supports disturbed the silence. She navigated the unfamiliar surroundings, growing angry and tired of the charade.   A sudden thought crossed her mind. Perhaps this wasn’t a ploy to lure her somewhere. Perhaps… someone wanted to lure her away… Aerin! Gods, she was foolish leaving him alone without her protection! She had to get back home and make sure he was safe. She had to… What was that soft light over the corner? Was that…?   “Grimsever!” She whispered enthralled, stepping out of the shadows into a ring of light cast by a lantern hanging over her head.   Her beloved blade was resting on a barrel, the green glass reflecting the light of the lantern. It called for her, beckoned that she takes it in her hand once again. Against her better judgement, Mjoll obeyed the call, instinctively reaching for the sword. She felt a rush of excitement taking the familiar shape of the handle in her hand. She raised the blade, examining it under the light. It was sharp, perfectly balanced and reliable, just as she remembered. Exhaling a quiet laugh, she did a few swings, cutting the air with a loud swish.    “The look on your face is priceless, lass. Brings a tear to my eye.” An amused voice abruptly cut her moment of bliss.   “Who’s there? Show yourself!” The heroine demanded, looking up to where the voice came from, shielding her eyes from the blinding lantern.   “I’d rather not. You seem to wield that thing with too much skill for my comfort.” The voice declined, this time coming from a different direction.   “Don’t toy with me! Who are you? What do you want?” Mjoll questioned, turning her head to where the voice came from this time, trying to pinpoint a pattern of movement. She could have sworn she saw a shape moving in the shadows.     “To help you move on. You’ve had your fun, the humble townsfolk worship the ground you walk on… Despite you not making any real change. But you’ve managed to piss some people off. People who can make you disappear…”   “I can take them all! Now face me, coward!” The Lioness demanded, following the voice which seemed to toy with her, forcing her to turn around in circles like a pranked child.   “Are you sure you really want that, lass?” The voice purred next to her ear, a warm breath caressing her cheek.   She acted on instinct, spinning around, her iron-clad fist ready to smash the face of whoever was messing with her. They dodged with grace, all she could see was a dark blur vanishing from her field of vision. She dashed away before they could get behind her again, swinging her massive sword in one fluid motion she practiced so many times in the past. She regained her balance, the length of the green glass separating her from a figure leaning against a wall, clad in the characteristic leather armor associated with the Thieves Guild.   “You… I know you! You’re with the Guild?!” She called out.   She knew that man. She couldn’t see his face hidden away by his black hood, but his characteristic relaxed stance and a strand of red hair peeking from under the hood betrayed who he was. Over a week ago he approached her in the marketplace. Mjoll had no idea how he had done it, she heard some unsavory gossip about him, but with just a few words he managed to coerce from her the name of the Dwemer ruin where she’d lost her sword. Aerin had to practically drag her away to break whatever spell the redhead had placed on her.   “As if it were a secret!” He laughed cheerfully.   “Do you really think you can bribe me to leave you types alone? Never!” Mjoll spat, gripping the handle tighter, the tip of Grimsever mere inches from the rogue’s chest.   “We’re helping you, though you’re too thick skulled to realize. You’re not going to change anything in Riften. This is our turf, we run the show. Our patrons grew tired of your antics and they want you gone… Six feet under in an unmarked grave. There’s a price on your head and the clock is ticking. We’re a Guild of criminals and scoundrels, but we’re not killers. So, we’re offering you a way out. We got your precious sword back, so you can leave the city and go be a real hero somewhere else. Now take it and get out of Riften. You’ve overstayed your welcome long enough.”   “Oh, I’m leaving this place alright.” Mjoll rebutted with confidence. “And you’re coming with me.”   “What?” The man’s eyelid twitched against this will. Was she really that confident or just incredibly stupid?   “I have proof that you’re a member of the Thieves Guild - you’re wearing their armor. And I found you trespassing. I’m turning you in. Now, you can come along quietly, or I’ll have to-”   “Lads!” Brynjolf called out, losing his patience. “She’s not cooperating! We’re doing this the hard way!”   In the darkness, from all directions, Mjoll could hear the subtle metallic chimes of daggers being unsheathed. They weren’t alone.   “What’s going on?” She grunted, taking a step back. She was about to charge the arrogant bastard, but the sound of a bowstring being pulled back froze her in place. He brought an archer (archers?) as well.   “You just have to make things harder for everyone around you. As long as you feel like you’re the hero, it’s all good in your book, right?” Brynjolf grunted, disappointed by how the confrontation was developing. “Why couldn’t you just cooperate? Now things will have to get… messy.” He sighed. Mjoll couldn’t determine if the sympathetic tone was genuine, or just an act he was putting on for her.   “So, you’re going to kill me? Come then! Better than you have tried!” She dared, tensing up, ready to cleave through the damned thief and his cronies.   “Oh, no. That’s not our style.” He replied calmly, finally able to collect himself after his initial outburst. “We won’t kill you… We’re just going to ruin your reputation and make sure you’re never going to show your face in Riften after we’re done with you. Lads, knock yourselves out. I’ll be back before sunrise. You all have plenty of time to explain to our gallant hero why you don’t cross the Guild.”   He stepped away to the side, like an actor leaving the scene, disappearing into the shadows. Mjoll felt exposed in the circle of light, her skin crawled from being eyed by unknown adversaries. All around her she could hear excited whispers and mocking laughs. Someone whistled at her. The beams and boards of the fishery upper floor creaked faintly as they began encircling her, like a pack of predators moving in for the kill. A bead of cold sweat rolled down her spine.   “Come on!” She taunted, itching for a fight. “I’m not afraid of you!” She called out.   “We don’t care.” Someone whispered from behind, right next to her ear.   They kicked Mjoll at the back of the calf, pushing her forward. The heroine stumbled, losing her balance. A fist shot forward out of the darkness, hitting her square in the jaw. Mjoll saw white, falling on one knee, but Grimsever remained in her hand. She let out a feral groan, she should have expected dirty tricks from thieves. A shadow towered over her. A dark-haired kinswoman clad in a grey variant of Guild armor was standing over her, rubbing her sore fist.   “I thought this was supposed to be lads only.” Mjoll spat, slowly rising up.   “I am one of the lads.” The girl said, her dark painted lips stretching in a grin.   The heroine gasped when a bow was slung in front of her by yet another thief that managed to surprise her from behind. They sharply pulled the weapon, the length of the bow pressing hard against her windpipe. Mjoll struggled and choked, fighting for air. She felt dizzy, her body going numb. Grimsever slipped from her feeble grasp falling on the boards with a clang. Through watery eyes, she shot the girl a hateful glare, her vision blurring from lack of air. She could faintly distinguish two more thieves appearing form the dark, approaching her from both sides.   “That’s enough. We don’t want her to pass out.” The girl reminded. The length of the bow withdrew in response. She was instead pulled roughly by the hair to rest on her knees. “Now, ladies go first, so I’ll just help myself to my plunder…”   Unexpectedly, the girl undid her belt and dropped her pants, approaching Mjoll with a smirk. So, this was how they wanted to teach her a lesson. The girl’s dagger pressed against the Lioness’ throat. She said nothing, only looked down at her neatly trimmed crotch. It was obvious what she wanted the heroine to do. Mjoll’s honey eyes narrowed, as she registered the familiar shape of Grimsever with the corner of her eye. She tensed, calculating if she could manage to dash for the sword and risk only a shallow cut. But before she could make up her mind, the sword was kicked out of her reach by a thuggish looking thief with red war paint streaks painted on his cheeks.   “Niruin, you better restrain her.” He said, crossing his arms, his voice low and hoarse, just the type of voice you’d expect from a thug. “She’s going to fight, I can tell. Better safe than sorry.”   “Take your gauntlets off and put your hands behind your back. Nice and slow.” A melodic voice (no doubt an elf) instructed, tugging on Mjoll’s hair for emphasis.   Rough rope bit into her wrists, but Mjoll endured being bound by the elf with dignity. It was only when the scabbard was taken away from her that she let out a humiliated groan. She realized the hairs on her neck and shoulders stood up, the reality of her situation dawning on her.   The thief woman’s blade remained at her throat the whole time, whilst she played with her clit, taking the scene in. Amused, she ran her wet fingers against Mjoll’s cheek, leaving trails of her pussy juices on the heroine’s face. Mjoll let out a disgusted choke, her face turning away from the blasted Guild bitch.   “What, you don’t like girls?” The thief woman laughed, thrusting her hips forward, her short black pubes grazing against the Lioness’ cheek. “My feelings would be hurt if I’d care. Now start licking or I’ll slit your smile!”   Revulsed, the heroine obeyed facing the woman’s crotch and sticking her tongue out flat. The girl hummed pleased, her free hand rested on the top of Mjoll’s head as she began thrusting and grinding against the Lioness’ face, her hard, swollen clit running up and down her tongue.   “Sapphire, I think she really doesn’t like girls.” A fourth thief chimed in. “But no harm done, she’s going to get her fill of cock tonight!”   They laughed in unison. Mjoll’s stomach tightened, whilst the girl’s clit was grinding against her tongue. This couldn’t be happening! She shut her eyes tight, but she couldn’t shut off her hearing. She could hear the other three thieves unbuckle their pants and the sound of skin sliding against skin as they began masturbating, getting off at the sight of the girl named Sapphire riding Mjoll’s face.   “I was actually hoping you’d go with the hard way.” Sapphire teased, ruffling Mjoll’s hair. “Seeing you strut around the marked every day like you owned the place got on my nerves. And look at you now, eating my pussy like a good little slut.”   More mocking laughter followed. The elf knelt behind Mjoll, his hand resting on her shoulder. Something slick and wet rubbed against her sweaty palms; he was jerking off into her hands, his fast breath brushed against the nape of her neck, sending shivers down Mjoll’s spine.   “Y-you won’t get away with this!” She yelled, her voice strewn with rage.   “Sure we will.” Sapphire assured with a smirk, offhandedly slapping her in the face. “I didn’t tell you to stop. I was almost there, keep going. And get ready, cause it’s going to be a blast.”   Mjoll groaned, anger mixing with fear causing her to act on instinct. She tossed and bucked to the thieves amusement. Immediately, the elf’s hands closed around her throat, suffocating another cry. Sapphire’s hands twisted into her hair, keeping her in place, the girl’s pussy slamming against her face with a wet smack. The two remaining thieves motioned closer from both sides, their fully erect cocks inches away from her face, their musky aroma hitting her nostrils. Despite the elf’s grip Mjoll screamed against the wet lips assaulting her face, the wetness and flavor of Sapphire invading her mouth.   Suddenly, Sapphire withdrew, spreading her legs as wide as her pants around her ankles would allow. Keeping a hold of Mjoll’s hair, she began pawing at her slit, coating her fingers in her own juices.   “Open your mouth wide and keep looking at me. Yeah, just like that.” She ordered, moments before climax.   She tensed, releasing a wild cry. Her hips bucked forward whilst her legs quivered. Her fingers curled and slid wide apart, franticly rubbing her clit. The moment she came she released an unexpected stream of fluid from her pussy, showering Mjoll in hot, sticky streams. The Lioness cried in surprise, craning her neck to avert her face from the perverse shower, but the grip on her hair was firm and Sapphire soaked her face with her generous shover, obliterating the heroine’s blue war paint in the process. The blue smears running down her neckline along with the fluids the only reminder of the painted pattern.   The other thieves stared speechless at the display, sharing astonished glances, their stiff cocks still in their grasps, but for the time being they paused jerking off to make sense of what just happened.   “Damn Sapphire… now I know why you never play with yourself in the common area.” One of the men uttered bewildered.   “Shut up Vipir…” The girl replied, still overtaken by bliss. “Ah… I had my fun. She’s all yours boys.” She said, pulling up her pants.   The idyllic post-orgasm look on her face quickly gave into a nasty grin. Without warning she plunged her foot at the center of Mjoll’s chestpiece, sending the heroine onto her back. Daggers went flying as the three men descended upon her, cutting the straps holding her armor in place, then the clothing she wore underneath.   “Get away from me!” She screamed in panic, when the thuggish one knelt between her legs to slide his blade under the side of her smalls.   “The more you fight the worse it will get. Just let the boys have their fun and you’ll be fine.” Sapphire advised somewhere beyond Mjoll’s vision, enjoing a bottle of mead she brought.   “Shut up whore!” Mjol yelled, bucking to do something, anything, but the hands groping and holding her down were too many.   “Watch your tongue!” The one named Vipir hissed, slapping her across the face with a loud smack. The woman grunted, her had jolting away. She cried and shook her head frantically when her smalls were finally cut off.   “Well, well, what have we here?” The thuggish thief whistled, grabbing her by the thighs and spreading them wide apart to get a better look at her womb. “Nice bush, we have a regular Goldielocks here!” He laughed, staring hungrily at her slit covered with curly golden hairs.   “Thrynn, really…” The elf chuckled, motioning closer to their captive’s head. “You have some colorful comparisons.”   The one named Thrynn shrugged his shoulders, guiding his swollen cockhead to wards the woman’s vulva.   “G-get off me! Stop!” Mjoll yelled, when his skin met with hers. Her muscles tensed, her entrance squeezed shut.   “What’s the matter, Lioness? Afraid of a bit of cock?” Thrynn mocked, dry humping her.   But before she could scream obscenities at him, the elf seized her by the hair, brandishing a dagger in front of her face, his slim cock bobbing next to her lips.   “I don’t need to tell you what I will do to you if you bite, right? Now open wide. And better put your heart into it.” He warned, with a velvet purr that made her skin crawl.   Mjoll parted her lips ever so slightly, her lower lip trembling. The elf’s glans smoothly slipped past them, thrusting into her mouth. She choked, tears she wanted to keep from flowing for so long ran freely down her face.   “And what about me?!” Vipir groaned offended, slapping his cock against her heavy breast. “You know what, never mind, I have an idea…” He smiled seeing the white, tender flesh bounce and ripple from impact.   “Damn it Vipir! I don’t want to see your ass when I do her!” Thrynn grunted, when the other thief mounted Mjoll’s chest, sliding his cock between her tits.   “Bryn said we have to share.” Vipir retorted, fishing a small bottle from one of his many pockets. He uncorked it with his teeth, pouring the slick, oily contents onto Mjoll’s breasts. He then roughly squeezed them together, burying his cock between them, thrusting energetically. “Ah, she’s got an amazing rack. Oh… I just realized I used up all the lube I had. Well, guess we’ll be going into your ass dry!” He laughed, pausing to painfully twist her nipples.   Mjoll gurgled into the Bosmer’s dick, her legs shaking from fear, Thrynn’s nails digging into her thighs. She breathed spasmodically through her nose, sensing the tip aligning with her entrance. He poked her to test resistance, pleased to find how tight she was. Whether it was natural or her shutting her pussy tight from apprehension was irrelevant. He savored the moment before shoving his entire length inside without warning, ripping a pained shriek form his victim.   “Nocturnal’s tits, she’s tight!” He grunted through clenched teeth, rocking his hips into her, feeling every inch sink inside Mjoll with effort. “That Imperial of hers must have a tiny prick.”   “Oh, please…” Sapphire cut in, losing her pants completely, fucking herself with her now empty bottle. “They’ve never done it. I can tell.”   “I bet they’re just friends. Right, Lioness?” Niruin said sweetly, pulling his cock out to get an answer.   “F-fuck you!” Mjoll yelled, choking on humiliation, pain and rage. Her tone betraying that the elf was right.   “Wow, what a bitch.” Vipir shook his head, riding her chest with more confidence, his oil-soaked member sliding between her breasts with a wed sound. “You stayed in his house for months for free, you ate his food and had him follow you around everywhere like a puppy, and you didn’t even have the courtesy to fuck him? Not even a handjob?”   “Aerin is not like that!”   “Sure he is…” Sapphire snorted. “He respects you too much to ask you to do him. That’s why he sneaks away to Haelga’s place while you sleep.”   “Shut up!” The woman screamed, her voice breaking.   Niruin plunged his cock back into her hot, wet mouth before she could say anything else. Mjoll cried without restraint, whimpering like a lass in the three men’s grasp. The elf watched the pained, defeated look on her face with delight, pumping into her mouth with cruel satisfaction. He liked it when uptight bitches finally realized they were not getting out of a bad situation unscathed. Seeing the once proud warioress cry really got him off. He was going to come soon and he was going to make sure to do it as humiliating for her as possible.   The taste of elf cock melted in Mjoll’s mouth, the veins on his shaft thickened. She squealed, not wanting to have him make her swallow, gagging at the very thought of the thief’s cum inside her. But he didn’t, pulling out and stroking himself energetically, directing his polished cockead at her face. Her teary eyes widened, she knew he would either slap her or keep her in place by the hair if she dared avert her face form what was coming her way.   The elf came with a loud, satisfied groan, thick ropes of his hot semen shooting with force at her face, coating Mjoll’s with white, sticky streams. She yelped disgusted, closing her eyes before any got into them, but his load was too generous, he must have been holding back for days before having a chance to unload on someone. Most of it shot at her mouth and cheek, but a large portion sprayed at her hair and chin, pooling on her neckline and lazily streaming onto the floor. She snorted, shaking her head, to at least get some of the Bosmer cum off her.    “This look suits you.” Niruin joked, flicking the last drop at her forehead. “I need a short rest… Sapphire, do you want to join in and douse her again?”   “Don’t mind if I do!” The girl replied cheerfully, taking his place. “If you lick my twat as good as you did last time I’ll wash all that cum off of you.” She promised, straddling Mjoll’s face. “Get to work. Now.” She ordered sharply, slamming her ass against the woman’s face.   “So… Sapphire, can I get a kiss?” Vipir tested his luck, having the thief girl so close to him while she rode the Lioness’ face and he rode her tits.   “Only if you want me to bite your tongue off.” The thief girl replied drily, whilst Mjoll cried under her, desperately waggling her tongue.   “How about me?” Thrynn joked, ramming his cock into Mjoll with force, his grip on her hips hard enough to bruise.   “Sure, why not.” Sapphire agreed, to everyone’s surprise.   “Hey, watch it!” Vipir groaned annoyed when being unceremoniously pushed to the side, so the two could make out. Fortunately, he didn’t fall of the rack he was riding. “Ugh, get a room!” He said with disgust, hearing them moan with pleasure, loudly locking their lips and intertwining their tongues.   “You should all see this from my perspective!” Niruin chimed in laughing hysterically. “The three of you and the bitch underneath look like one of those old Nede statues.”   Vipir muttered a curse, hurt by being left out. Still, his cock was sandwiched by a pair of slippery tits, so he couldn’t complain. He roughly rolled Mjoll’s sore nipples, pressing down on her breasts, thrusting viciously, about to come any second. And he did moments later, his load shooting from between Mjoll’s reddened tits.   “Damn it Vipir!” Sapphire hissed, breaking her sloppy kiss with Thrynn when some of it hit her stomach. “Ugh… no wonder why they call you the Fleet…”   “Watch it woman. I might be quick to come but I’m also quick to be ready for another round. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be fucking her in the ass in no time!” He laughed, getting off of Mjoll, exposing her sweaty and oil-soaked chest to all present company.   “You’re not fucking anything before I’m done.” Thrynn grunted, pushing Mjoll’s thighs up so that he was squatting over her with her legs up in the air. “Get ready, bitch. I’ll breed you good.” He swore, his voice dripping with hatered.   He plunged deep, hitting hard against her cervix, conjuring a pained cry from their captive. He didn’t care, rutting into her with all the force he could muster, his sweaty balls slapping against her asshole whilst he stretched her pussy good.   “Damn, Thrynn. You seem to have it out for the little bitch.” Sapphire exclaimed, observing Mjoll squirm under the two of them.   “I had a cargo of moon sugar planned to arrive last month and she somehow caught wind of it. She rallied the guards and they burned the whole shipment down. I felt like a fucking moron when I had to get the news to Bryn. And he took the heat for me in front of Mercer! He saved my ass, but you have no idea how humiliated I felt!” He said with venom in his voice, making every thrust count, savoring every pained cry Mjoll made. “So yeah, it’s personal. And now the little cunt is paying for playing hero.”   An vindictive spark danced in his eyes as he clenched his teeth tight, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. He sunk the length of his cock inside Mjoll, almost breaching her womb. Yelling a curse he came inside the Lioness, flooding her with his unwanted seed. Mjoll screamed, muffled by Sapphire’s pussy, feeling the richness and thickness of his load spilling inside her, filling her to the brim, shooting out of her with incredible pressure.   “Gods, just make it stop and let me pass out… please!” She prayed. But the gods remained deaf to her plea and she didn’t mercifully lose consciousness, aware the entire time the thief kept coming inside her.   “Yeah, enjoy that bitch.” He muttered spitefully, releasing her and stepping away. Mjoll’s numb legs fell to the ground with a thud, his cum gushed out, pooling between them.   “You play hard when you’re angry, Thrynn!” Sapphire exclaimed impressed, leaning forward to get a better look at Mjoll’s spent pussy. “What a load! You cum like a horse!” She praised, spreading the woman’s grazed labials and pressing down at her stomach, forcing another gush of sperm to shoot out.   “Oh, I’m not done yet.” He replied, fishing a flask from his satchel then taking a loud chug. “The bitch is going to have every inch of my cock burned into her memory after I’m done with her.”   “I’m ready to go again!” Vipir announced cheerfully, taking Thrynn’s spot. But it was Mjoll’s asshole that he wanted. “Sapphire, do me a favor and grab her ankles.” He requested, pulling the woman’s legs up.    Sapphire laughed an obliged, whilst he spread the tight pink pucker with his thumbs. His cockhead, still slick from the oil, pressed against the quivering ring. Mjoll let out a muffled scream of protest, which Sapphire cut short with another slam of her pussy in the face. Vipir grinned, unhurriedly pushing inside, breaching the tight hole. Mjoll screamed again… and then again, until her throat gave in.   ---   They fucked her for hours, reducing to a numb, powerless shell, taking their cocks and loads into her lose holes. Her mind was blank, overloaded by the sensations of then night. Broken and fucked to the edge of unconsciousness she was barely able to register what was happening around her, laying on the floor, passively doing what she was told or letting them do to her whatever they wanted. The perfect docile cumslut.   A sharp whistle finally ended her torment. Or at least the first phase of it.   “Alright lads, party’s over. Time to go home!” Brynjolf called out.   “Just five more minutes Bryn.” Vipir protested, unhurriedly slapping his half-erect cock against Mjoll’s wet cheek. “Now stick your tongue out, slut. Yeah, just like that…”   “Get a move on!” Another man yelled, his voice like iron nails against glass.   “Shit, it’s Mercer!” Sapphire gasped, looking like a filly someone whipped unexpectedly.   The thieves quickly pulled up their pants and scurried away into the darkness, leaving Mjoll in a puddle of sweat and cum. The two men in black Guild armor approached her twitching body.   “Well, not so high and mighty now, huh?” Frey mocked, seizing Mjoll’s chin to have a better look at her face. But her eyes were glassy, looking somewhere past him.   “Mercer… we have little time to waste. It’s almost sunrise.” His subordinate reminded, forcing himself to keep looking, but he couldn’t hide his disappointment at how the whole affair turned out.   “Right, right. Well, I have the chains and paint, so you grab her while I take her sword. I’ll be waiting outside, this whole place stinks like fish and jizz.” The Guildmaster ordered with cheer, leaving the fishery.   The redhead looked down at her, his fists clenched tight. With a disgusted grunt he rolled her on her back with his boot. Mjoll let out an incoherent yelp, her chest heaving. The man shook his head, pulling a sheet of rough canvas over her, tightly wrapping her in the material.   “Stupid woman. Why couldn’t you just take the easy way out?” He whispered, throwing the package over his shoulder.   ---   The night mist cleared, first rays of sunshine penetrated the quickly dispersing clouds. Marise could tell this was going to be a good day. She walked towards her spot at the market, humming a tune and planning out her routine. She passed the corner…   … and let out a high pitch screech, seeing the display laid out for the citizens of Riften to see. Mjoll the Lioness, naked and soaked in layers upon layers of cum was chained by the wrists to a wall. She was barely conscious and gagged with a rough piece of cloth, bruises and bitemarks covering her entire body, her knees grazed raw. Her legs were tied to a scabbard of a greatsword, keeping them spread wide apart. The sword’s handle was shoved deep inside her pussy, a knot going around her waist preventing it from slipping out. A stream of cum dripping lazily down the weapon’s entire length and pooling on the stones below.   But the most shocking part of the display was the writing on her body in bold black letters, the most prominent being the word ‘SLUT’ across her chest. ‘GUILD CUMDUMP’ written on her stomach with an arrow pointing down at her womb. A jumble of other vulgar writing and crude drawings marking her limbs completed the picture.   Marise stared stunned and bewildered, taking a step back. She finally snapped out of shock and jolted away, screaming loudly, alerting the entire town. Merchants and townsfolk alike began pouring into the market, alarmed by the noise. Cries of shock and uproar filled the market. Someone tried to cut the woman down themselves, but the thick iron chains were impossible to break with bare hands. Someone loudly called out for the guards. Someone laughed. Mjoll finally fainted.   ---   Aerin carefully closed the backdoor to Haelga’s bunkhouse behind him. He should have enough time to get home before Mjoll wakes up, thank the gods she was a heavy sleeper. On his way he heard a frenzied scream. A Dunmer woman ran through the streets screaming something incoherent, overtaken by panic. Amongst the seemingly random words like ‘sword’ and ‘chained’ he heard Mjoll’s name. He nearly had to tackle the elf to get her to halt. Marise stared at him wide-eyed, suddenly unable to utter a single word. She pointed at the market and collapsed on her knees, trembling. Aerin marched to where she pointed, already noticing a large crowd gathering at the market. He passed the corner… 

Chapter 0 - Whole Hog

"Fire in the hole!" An excited cry, followed by erratic laughter echoed in the underpass.   "Get to cover!" 76 ordered, sprinting off the cart into one of the chic Numbani boutiques, as the ominous sound of a motor engine grew louder and closer.   "Scheisse!" Mercy's inner voice cursed. She dashed away to a conveniently situated cafe, hopefully away from what was coming. She ducked behind the counter, waiting for the danger to pass. Seconds flew by with no explosion. Instead, there was a metallic bang, like when a large mechanical device hits a wall. The threat was over, it seemed.   She waited a few additional moments, just a safeguard, before peeking out of the establishment. The streets were clear, no sign of the cart or her team. With a sigh of relief, the healer foolishly walked out into the open.   "Personne n'échappe à mon regard!" She heard a chilling voice from above. A split-second later a small red dot found it's mark, resting at the center of her forehead. She opened her mouth in a silent cry, frozen in place by the realization, that although she could not see Widowmaker, the sniper had a clear shot of her. It was over.   But the killing shot never came, thanks to a sturdy chain that shot from behind a nearby corner. A gruesome looking hook, blurred by the momentum, found it's mark at one of the above balconies, pulling the stunned sniper down, out of Mercy's field of view.   "Come here little piggy." A low, hoarse grunt beckoned. A moment later Mercy heard Widow's descending shriek, as if the sniper was pushed off a ledge.   Against her wits, she trotted towards the corner where her unexpected savior should be. After all, she couldn't just leave without at least saying thank you!   "Mein gott…!" She gasped, facing her mystery hero.   The man was a huge, towering mountain of fat and muscle. Angela's first thought was of a post-apocalyptic wasteland raider, like from that one classic movie she once saw with Lena. "Anger Management Road"… or something along those lines. His face was hidden behind a leather gas mask fashioned to resemble a hog's snout.   "What are you lookin' at?" He grunted, though his voice hadn't betrayed any anger. For someone of his physique he seemed surprisingly stoic. Like an animal which knows it has nothing to fear from predators, because it's the largest and strongest beast around.   "I… Danke." She thanked, humbled by his size. She was literally standing in his shadow! In her mind she dubbed him "Hog".   "Piece of cake." Was his reply.   Angela took a step back. It was obvious he wasn't a part of her unit, he could possibly be affiliated with their enemies. He didn't seem like someone who's patience you'd want to test. She really had to go back to her team, make sure they're all safe and healed. But… she couldn't. This towering brute was somehow… drawing her closer. What was going on? Was it his abnormal height? The sheer size of him? Or the primal, yet pleasant smell radiating from him?   Unexpectedly, he dropped on one knee, releasing his weapons from his massive hands. But it was not some romantic gesture, he was clearly in pain. He grunted and shook his head, shifting to all fours, making him look even more like an animal. Angela squeaked at this sudden behavior, confused at what was happening.   She noticed a short, Japanese-style blade wedged in the Hog's back, just below the right shoulder. No doubt Genji's work. It must have been there for a while, the trail of blood going down the chunky back was dry. Instantly regaining her composure, she approached him not as a blushing damsel in distress, but a seasoned combat medic.   "Push off." He grumbled, reaching to swat her away like a troublesome fly.   "I'm a doctor. Let me patch you up." She insisted, dodging his meaty arm.   The only way she could reach the blade was to mount him. Without hesitation she slung her leg over his lower back, then straddled him, her legs closing above his rump like she was attempting to ride a wild… well… hog.   He bucked, groaning in angry protest. Mercy grabbed the sword, conjuring what humble strength she had to remove it. Her grip and the Hog's trashing freed the blade after a few intense moments of her pulling and him doing his best to throw her off. The man squealed under the mask. Blood gushed from the wound. Mercy's eyelid hadn't flinched - she had experience with difficult patients. She tossed Genji's weapon away, grabbing her staff in both hands.   "Healing stream engaged!" She ordered with force, controlling a steady, warm ray of light which seeped into the wound, miraculously closing it.   Hog stopped fighting and feel flat on his stomach, exhausted by the ordeal, but stable and safe. Angela rolled off him, resting on her back next to the wheezing and sweating body.   "Good as new." She sighed with relief, more to herself than her troublesome patient.   She could hear the Hog's heavy breathing under the mask. It was regular and slow, nothing to worry about from a medical perspective. She felt good knowing they were even. Saving lives always gave her a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.   He snorted and hoisted himself on one arm, gazing up at the sun. It was a hot, sunny day. Grunting with disapproval, the Hog dragged himself to some shade, near a majestic statue of a rhino.   "Thanks." He huffed, tucking himself out and relaxing in the shade the statue provided.   "It's what I do."   There was nothing more to say and it was time to go. Again, instead of following duty's call, Mercy motioned closed, away from the punishing rays. She admired the massive, jiggly belly which glistened in the sun like nobody's business. She liked the pronounced belly button, fitting perfectly into the stylized pig tattoo. Especially, when it moved up and down with each breath.   What a specimen! A perfect blend of muscle and fat, pleasantly bouncy and yet still vascular, mainly on his arms and neck. His skin was healthy rosy with charming sun kisses on the shoulders and chest. No stretch marks, no sagging spoiled it. He had a perfect ratio of white body hair… There was no sense in denying her desires - she wanted to ride this hog.   He may be a brute of few words, but he wasn't oblivious. The little angel's lustful stare and blush hadn't eluded him. She wasn't faking attraction to dull his wits - if she wanted, she could have taken him out just a second ago. All she had to do was push the sword deeper and be done with it. But she didn't and now they were here.   Talk was cheap. Mercy reached for what she wanted, undoing his pants impatiently. He didn't wear any underwear, which made things much easier. She sighed in awe, taking in both hands the limp, chunky cock, covered in thick, abundant and velvet soft foreskin. Grasping in both hands she gave the slumbering monster a vigorous stroke. Slowly, it awakened, thickening up and pronouncing it's thick veins. Her mouth watered at the sight of throbbing girth.   "A most impressive display!" Mercy praised, bowing to lick on the bulbous tip, which barely peeked from under the uncut skin. His heavy, musky scent polluted her senses, leaving only the desire to lick, suck, take in whatever he had to offer…   Her mouth was watery, lips pursed and red, ready for a demanding service. Impulsively, the doctor pressed them against the glossy glans and smoothly lowered her head until she reached the base. The musky, salty flavor filled her mouth, intoxicating with a promise of carnal fun. Loudly and messily, she worked her tongue and lips to satisfy her new acquaintance. Soon, she could feel him fully harden, yet remain velvety soft, thanks to the thick coat of foreskin. The thicker he got, the harder it was for her to take the whole thing in one gulp. His cock was short but thick, the type of cubby member that will leave you swollen and gaping. She longed for that sensation.   The Hog's massive palm wandered up and down her back, stroking Mercy like a favorite pet. A pleased grunt escaped from under his mask when she cradled his massive balls in her delicate hand, massaging them with just the right amount of force. She sure knew male anatomy. As pleasant as it was to lay back with this little angel working his junk, it was time to give her some attention as well… And loosen her for what was coming.   Effortlessly, he reached under her waist, hoisted up and turned around 180 degrees for a perfect 69. Angela giggled, then gasped as the hog snout burrowed between her thighs, digging into her crotch. His hot breath warmed her moistening slit, whilst his meaty hands groped her ass, spreading her cheeks to reach deeper. How could he manipulate his mask like that? Never mind, it didn't matter. She went down on the chubby penis to muffle her embarrassingly eager moans. Though, her melting pussy and wiggling behind gave away how much she loved this bizarre foreplay.   A spurt of heavy precome leaked into her mouth. Good god, he was practically oozing virility. She wanted him. She wanted this beast of a man to use and abuse her holes however he'd please. She was about to give up dignity and beg him to fuck her, when she heard a low grumble down under.   "Ready."   "For what?" She asked, reluctantly pulling his cock out of her mouth.   "Ready to go WHOLE HOG." He announced with vigor.   The angel squeaked, once again being lifted and spun in the air to be sat on his laps. Her back comfortably rested against his sweaty belly, his meat stuffed even more comfortably between her ass cheeks. The tip snuggled against her moist entrance, pressing on unceremoniously, until it met with the fabric's resistance. Her suit was thin enough, that she felt the pulsing of his veins.   "Oh, just tear it open!" She demanded impatiently.   And that he did, tearing off a generous amount of material, uncovering her smooth, swollen vulva. Mercy was about to greedily lower herself on the thick shaft, hadn't he stopped her with a good grip under the thighs.   "Don't tease!" The doctor begged, wiggling in his painless yet iron grip, with the blunt tip barely caressing her ready sex.   "I will make you squeal." The Hog assured patiently, lowering her steadily on his rod.   Thank god she didn't foolishly impale herself on that thing - it was too big for her! She never had a cock this thick and with that much skin. Though she was wet and relaxed, her body protested against such girth. Her eyes watered, tears streamed down her cheeks. Though he took it slow, the friction and heat made the experience numbingly intense.   After the first few thrusts Mercy stretched enough to make the pain ease up a bit, making room for bittersweet pleasure. Though 'thrusts' might not be the best description - the Hog made no effort to move his hips, instead he held the doctor firmly, moving up and down his cock like a realistic sex toy.   "How barbaric," she thought realizing this embarrassing fact. "But how exciting!"   Her pleased cries were enough encouragement for the surprisingly tender brute to go harder, lifting her up so that his cock popped out with a vulgar sound, only to then lower her to the very base, deep enough that she felt her cervix pushed back by his meaty glans. This continued for several minutes, with the force and pace increasing and Mercy's self-respect and grasp of reality decreasing. She used vulgar, vile words (which she would never use around her friends) to encourage and praise the Hog. He in return made sure to satisfy the doctor's need to be fucked, quote "like she's not a person".   Pleasure and pain merged into a maddening haze. She wasn't sure if she was about to come or finally pass out from exhaustion. Her pussy was hot and sore, her abdomen throbbed with numb pain, demanding to stop. She hung her head, giving up any shred of autonomy. Though her vision got blurry, she could see a protrusion forming just below her navel with each plunge of that thick cock.   She heard a pleased grunt from behind - the Hog was enjoying every inch of her tender flesh. His prick buried itself harder, the muscles on his laps tightened - telltale signs he was about to come.   "I'm going hog wild!" He roared unexpectedly, violently ejaculating inside the little angel, flooding her sweet insides with his thick semen. Just like he promised, Mercy squealed with ecstasy, strain and relief having a rough orgasm herself. The abundant streams of rich seed coated her inner walls, easing the friction and pain. The load was generous - most of it shot deep into the doctor. What wasn't taken in by her loosened pussy, squirted out with ludicrous pressure.   Slowly, the two unlikely partners eased down - exhausted and sweaty. The Hog pulled out his softening member, releasing from Mercy's cunny a second gush of juices and cum. She moaned softly, too exhausted to string up a coherent sentence, then finally slipped into oblivion.   Gently, the Hog laid her on her side at the base of the rhino statue, so that she was safe from the sun and anyone's sight. Mercy was a wet, hot mess. Her cheeks were red, glistening with tears. Needless to say, her makeup was ruined. Her usually pink and tight pussy was a raw red gape, still leaking seed. She will likely have trouble walking for a few days, probably have bruises on her inner thighs where his palms held her in their iron grip… But other than that, there was no permanent damage.   Though he utterly destroyed her pussy, there was still the smooth, pink pucker of her asshole, that wasn't given his attention. Perhaps there was enough time to…   "Hog? HOGGIEEEE!? Where are you mate? I'm getting worried!" A hysterical voice with a heavy Australian accent called out somewhere nearby.   The Hog grumbled annoyed. Right, there was a payload to stop… though that business probably sorted itself by now.   "She'll be right." He concluded with a nod.   He took one last look on the sweet little healer he fucked into unconsciousness, then picked up his gear and went on his way to cause chaos and destruction somewhere else.

Chapter 4 - Beast of a Man (Farkas)

The Huntress led Aza to the back of Jorrvaskr, where three warriors (an elder with white hair and a pair of dark-haired twins) were enjoying their breakfast. “This is Farkas. He was the one hired to take care of Mikael before you swooped in.” Aela introduced the adventurer to one of the twins; a huge Nord warrior clad in steel armor.   “Aela…” The man rumbled quietly, despite his size oddly submissive in the face of the lithe Huntress. “I told you it was no big deal…”   “Shut up ice-brain!” The woman snapped. “Now, you owe him half of whatever you were paid. Better pay up.” She addressed the adventurer with dare.   Aza’s mismatched eyes met with the man’s icy grey. He was clearly uncomfortable and did not want to take any part in the spectacle. It was time to finish this quick and get going before the situation got ugly.   “Fine.” The adventurer muttered, reaching to her knapsack. She fumbled with the contents for a longer moment before fishing out for a sweetroll she brought just the day before. “Here. Carlotta’s kid paid me a whole sweetroll to take care of her mother’s little problem. Enjoy.” She said drily, tearing the treat in two, offering one half to the warrior.   “You’re joking!” The skinnier of the twins blinked bewildered. “You took a pastry as payment?”   “What can I say, I have a good heart.” Aza sneered, looking anything but what a person with a good heart would look like.   “Are you satisfied, lad?” The elder warrior inquired to the other twin, smiling ever so slightly. Aza did not like the look he gave her just a second before. Oddly… fatherly.   “Yea, works for me.” Farkas said, swallowing the sweetroll in one bite. “You wanna train?” He unexpectedly asked, eying Aza with pure businesslike interest. He noticed she shifted all her weight to one foot when standing idly. A bad habit when wearing heavy armor all day.   “I wouldn’t bother. I knocked her on her ass in one punch.” Aela boasted, sitting heavily between the twins and unceremoniously reaching for a fat piece of juicy roast.   “That’s because you’re skinny and no one expects you to pack a punch.” Farkas retorted, keeping his eyes on Aza. He had nice eyes, accented by his dark warpaint. “So, you wanna have a go? I’ve been hearing some stories about Redguard sword singers, I want to try one out for myself.”   “Look, this was fun and all, but I have a tomb to raid. So…” Aza excused herself, already taking a step back.   “You could use some better equipment.” The elder warrior pointed out, halting her in her tracks. “We have the finest blacksmith in all of Skyrim. He can forge you a decent set of armor and blades so sharp that they could split a hair in half.”   “I’m broke.” Aza confessed, hoping to cut the conversation now and there.   “You can earn some coin with us. We have a few empty beds.” The elder offered patiently.   “I’m not a charity case. I appreciate your offer, but I’m not exactly a team player.”   And with that Aza turned around and would have left if the thinner of the twins hadn’t spoken.   “Master, you have far too much faith in strangers. We need decent stock to replenish our ranks, not some vagrant.”   “What the fuck did you just say?” Aza asked gravely, looking over her shoulder, her good eye twitching. “Okay, I had a pretty shitty morning, so of you want to have a go, then let’s have a go! You and me, skinny! Right now!”   Aela and Farkas shared amused looks. This was going to be a fun day.   ---   About two weeks later Aza sat in the cozy meadhall, heavily buzzed and now a full pledged Companion.   “How the fuck did this happen?” She whispered puzzled into her mug before chugging down her mead. As always, it was amazing, she didn’t think she could ever get tired of the stuff.   She recalled giving the other twin, now known as Vilkas, a good thrashing before the elder warrior, Kodlak Whitemane called it off. She had no idea how Kodlak had done it, but he managed to convince her to stick around and before she knew it she and Farkas were retrieving a piece of Ysgramor’s legendary axe from some old ruin.   Speaking of which, she still had to retrieve that damned horn for the Greybeards… shit.     She stared across the table at Farkas. She liked him. He was a genuinely good guy, the type that acts kind towards people without expecting anything in return. He was a bit gruff and quiet when surrounded by too many people, but it was actually charming. And he had that calm, relaxed confidence that naturally came with having a big dick. She could tell he was huge. And she wanted him.     “I am nothing but respectful.” She said offhandedly to the Huntress sitting next to her.   “Are you now?” Aela’s brow rose as she savagely bit into a roasted goat leg, the bone underneath the juicy meat snapping loudly.   Right… the entire Circle were werewolves. Despite learning that just this morning, Aza was not disturbed. Why should she? She killed and devoured a dragon’s soul, it was hard to top something like that in terms of weirdness.   “I am.” She assured, observing through half-shut eyes as Farkas emptied his mug in one huge gulp. “I know this is your turf and your Brothers. So, I was wondering if you’d mind if I…”   “The ice-brain, right?” Aela guessed, chewing on her meat. “I swear, I have no idea why all the newcomers like him so much. Sure, have fun. Just remember to stay away from Skjor and Kodlak and we’re good.” She stated sternly. “Anyone else is fair game.”   Aza nodded and smiled, rising from her chair to move in for the kill.   ---   He should slow down, that was his third mug. Besides, drinking his shame away was pointless, it burned deep down inside, empowered by the mead. Farkas could still faintly hear the nauseating sound frostbite spider legs made and the disgusting crack of their moving mandibles. His stomach tightened, his fists clenched. Trolls, bears, giants, those were no match for him. But the spiders… he couldn’t find a way to justify the fear and disgust they instilled in his heart. He felt pathetic, like a scared cub hiding under blankets during a lightning storm.   “Hey there, handsome!” Their newcomer made conversation, occupying the chair next to him. “Having fun?”   “Yea.” He replied, unable to take his mind off his troubles.   “I’m buzzed.” Aza confessed, getting oddly close to him. “Anywayyy… I just wanted to tell you that I appreciate you being my Shield-Brother and all. I know the speech you gave after we got back from Dustman’s Cairn was tradition, but it felt nice hearing it.”   “Sure thing.”   “I…” Aza paused, unsure if the sudden impulse to bear her heart in from of him was the mead she drank or the knowledge that Farkas wouldn’t judge or even understand what she was going through. “The time I spent with you guys has been fun. But I’ll have to go soon.”   “You don’t like it here?” He asked, finally turning his face to her. Morhwa, he had a nice jaw.   “Are you kidding? Good drink, good food and good pay, what’s not to like? And I can’t remember the last time I had this decent gear, just look at the set I got from Eorlund!” She shifted on her chair, so that the warrior could see her better in her new getup; a set of Ancient Nord heavy armor. Just like the one Aela wore, but much fuller around the hips and chest.   “That’s… nice.” Farkas agreed, his gaze lingering on the deep line between her breasts for a longer moment. “So… why leave?”   “I have something to take care of, something unlike the things I usually do. Something heroic and brave.” She revealed, her tone uncharacteristically serious.   “You are a brave woman.” He noted, blunt and honest as always.   “I’m not, trust me. Oh, I know I’m a bit crazy and I keep getting myself in trouble, but I’m a coward when I have to be responsible. The moment I feel someone is counting on me I run away. I call it ‘moving on’, but I’m just kidding myself.”   “Are you running away now?”   “No. I’m going to be brave this time.” She swore with a hardened look in her eye.   Farkas stared into the embers of the hearth, her words resonating with his own troubles. What if someday he will be accompanying a Shield-Sibling and they will stumble across more frostbite spiders? What if he’ll need to protect them, but fear overcomes him? He couldn’t afford a situation like that. He had to be brave, if not for himself then for those who were counting for him!   “So…” Aza’s voice lowered to a sultry purr. “I was thinking you could keep me company before I have to leave you guys to be brave and responsible. What do you think, big guy?”   “You’re right!” He roared, standing up, his palms slamming heavily against the wood. “Meet me in the training yard in five minutes. Bring your weapons!”   “W-what for?” She blinked, unsure if she got the reaction she wanted.   “We’re going to be brave, you and I!” He promised, exposing his impressive canines in an unsettling wolfish grin.   ---   “Fuck you!” Farkas roared, cleaving through a fat, hairy spider. “You think I’m afraid of you? You don’t know me!” He went on, stomping on the head of another arachnid that dared get too close to him.   “What the actual fuck??” Aza whispered, parrying a much smaller one with her recently forged Skyforge steel dagger and sword, her buzz completely gone.   Gods, she just wanted to get laid. But in an unexpected turn of events Farkas decided they had to get back to Dustman’s Cairn. When she tried to reason with him, he just threw Aza over his shoulder and jumped over the wall, running off with her into the night. He said nothing the entire trip, ignoring her fists and knees hitting him with all the strength she could muster. Like most Nords, he was a stubborn one.   When they arrived at the damned ruin, he finally let her go and entered the tomb with Aza in tow, ignoring her questions and curses. When they reached the spider infested chamber he charged at the damned things head-first with a blood-curdling battlecry, leaving Aza to fend for herself. Not that she couldn’t handle a few spiders, but it would be nice to get a heads-up that he planned to play juggernaut.   “Ahhh…” The warrior let out an exhausted, yet satisfied groan, kicking the dead spiders out of his way.   “You alright?” Aza asked, shaking the odd goo the creatures had instead of blood off her weapons.   “Never better.” Farkas said, whipping his sweaty hair back, his warpaint long smudged off. “This was exactly what I needed. Thanks.”   “What did I do?”   “You helped me realize I needed to be brave. If not for my own sake, then for the ones depending on me.” He explained with disarming honesty.   Aza blinked confused, then laughed once everything clicked in her head. The spiders! He was afraid of spiders! Her drunken confession rallied him to face his own fears. Gods, she wanted to subtly hint that she was going to leave, so that he would take her to his room, but instead she helped Farkas overcome his phobia. Still, she was glad she could help him, even if her motives were of a more carnal nature.   “Anytime.” She snickered, wiping a tear from the corner of her blind eye. “Say… there’s one thing I want to do before we leave. Follow me.”   They made their way through the tunnels until they reached the main chamber, where they previously retrieved the Wuuthrad fragment. Aza gulped loudly, but remained firm in her conviction, approaching the word wall she previously ignored out of fear. She heard the familiar droning as she drew near it, a subtle chanting filling her ears, like an ancient choir.   She reached to touch the faded writing on the wall, one of the words lighting up in response to her touch. She felt warmth ride up her arm, seeping into her skin, sinking in her lungs, filling her head with understanding.   Fire.   “YOL!” She Shouted, tilting her head back, a burst of fire shooting out of her mouth. Just like a dragons fiery breath.   “Ysgramor’s balls!” Farkas yelled behind her. “What was that?”   “My responsibility. I think. I’m not sure yet.” Aza explained, rubbing the back of her head.   “How did you do that?” He asked, coming closer to take a curious look at the wall himself.   “I took in the Word from the wall. Didn’t you hear it talk to me?”   “Um… no. I didn’t hear anything.” Farkas said, taking a cautious step back. “Are you sure you’re okay? Did you hit your head when we came here for the fragment?”   “No, I’m fine. Guess this is something only I can pick up. Can you keep this a secret?”   “Sure thing.” He promised without thinking. She saw him turn into a werewolf just a few hours ago and promised to keep her mouth shut, so why shouldn’t he return the favor?   “Great!” Aza exhaled with relief, glad her little secret was safe with him. “Can we finally have sex? I’ve been hitting on you the entire evening.” She came clean, too tired and horny to beat around the bush.   Farkas stared at her for a second, then laughed shaking his head. “Should have said so. Here?” He suggested, gesturing at the solid stone altar from which they previously snatched the Wuuthrad fragment.   “Listen,” the woman winced, flicking spider goo off her pauldron, “I really want to get in your pants. But first I gotta rinse this shit off me. Get me to a stream and I’m all yours.”   ---   Their armor and weapons rested on a heap next to a small stream. Naked and wet, Aza stretched lazily on the thick, soft moss. She stared up at the starry sky, blowing off a strand of hair that got into her mouth.   “Full moons.” She noted, turning to her companion.   “Yeah.” Farkas nodded, whipping back his dripping hair, also naked and wet and completely unbothered by her lustful stare.   Aza had Nords before coming to Skyrim, but Farkas was nothing she had ever seen before. Tall, strong, with the perfect ratio of body hair and muscle. And at the same time he was incredibly soft. Like a faithful husky. Gods, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to suck his dick or give him a belly rub.   The warrior fished a bottle from his satchel and passed it to her without a word. Aza accepted the drink with a pleased smirk and took a large gulp instantly gagging.   “W-what was that?!” She gasped, as the unknown liquid burned down her throat.   “Orcish moonshine.” Farkas explained amused, taking the bottle from her. He took a swig himself, unaffected by the burning contents. “I usually use this for wounds, but it’s got a powerful kick.”   “Do you want to kill me?!” Aza complained, dramatically clutching her chest.   “Nah.” Farkas shook his head, putting the bottle away to pull his arm over the adventurer. “I wanna do things to you, but nothing to hurt you.” He swore, nuzzling her neck with his pleasantly scruffy cheek.   “Yeah? Like what?” The heroine purred, biting her lip.   A man of few words, Farkas preferred to show, not tell. Gently, his teeth closed on the side of Aza’s neck whilst he groped her breast not so gently with his free hand. The heroine melted in his grasp, her gaze slipping down to marvel at his slowly fattening cock, the sight of his generously veined shaft already making her mouth water and pussy itch. This was promising, but she could have better. Kinkier.   “Hey, so… Since the moons are full…” She dared cautiously, sliding her hand down his hairy chest and stomach to gently caress his member. “Do you think you could turn again? Just for me?”   Farkas withdrew abruptly, staring back at her like a kicked pup with his grey eyes. “That’s a bad idea.” He muttered, looking away.   “Oh, don’t worry about me, I can take it!” Aza assured, clinging to his side, already imagining his bestial cock inside her. She doubted she’d ever have a chance to fuck a werewolf and she was not about to let this chance slip past her!   “It’s not about that.” He sighed, hunching his shoulders. “Back then with the Silver Hand it was a matter of life and death. But I don’t want to be a beast if I can help it. I want to be a man.”   “Shit!” The Redguard thought, realizing how selfish she was, only thinking about cock. “Hey, I’m sorry. Forget about what I just said, just stay with me and be my big, brave man, okay? How about I give you a blowjob as an apology and we’ll see what we can pick up from there, hm?”   Wasting no time, she guided the warrior to rest on his back and got herself comfortable between his massive laps. She reached for his shaft, tenderly and unhurriedly showering it with soft, wet kisses. Farkas exhaled a relaxed breath, supporting himself on his elbow, his other hand caressing the back of Aza’s head. His mood must have undoubtedly lifted, as his heavy cock was slowly thickening under her touch.   She pulled the skin down, uncovering his cockhead. Damn, it was nice; the tip pointed and sides jutting. Perfect to quickly slide in and pleasantly scrape her insides. Aza licked her lips before forming them into a tight ring, sliding her head down the length of his glans, pausing to grind her curved tongue against the underside.   “Ah… that feels good.” Farkas rumbled low from the back of his throat, affectionately combing his fingers through her thick hair. “Can’t leave you out. Put that pussy over my face, I wanna eat you out.”   What a gentleman! Aza let out a muffled ‘mmm’, adjusting the position without pulling his cock out of her mouth, so that her shapely ass hovered over the warrior’s face. Farkas slammed his large palms on her ass with a loud smack, spreading her bouncy cheeks to reveal her slick pussy.   The adventurer let out a low, lengthy moan as his thick, rough tongue struck inside without any ado. It squirmed and twisted inside her twat, exploring her quivering walls with incredible enthusiasm. Morhwa, he knew how to eat! She pushed her ass against his tongue, bowing her head rapidly, choking on his girth. Her cheeks hollowed and lips sealed tight, as she sucked him loud and messily, putting in all her effort to return his eagerness.   “He tastes amazing!” She thought, pulling him out of her mouth to glide her flattened tongue against his cockhead, lapping off the musky precome. “I need him inside me, now!” The feverish desire washed over her, her ass wiggling in response.   “Impatient, huh?” Farkas laughed, lightly spanking her. “Get on all fours.”   Aza did what she was told, sticking her ass out like a bitch in heat whilst the warrior got behind her. His rough palms clasped around her hips, his pointed tip found her dripping entrance and he thrusted into her roughly, the force of his shove pushing her forward. A loud, ecstatic cry escaped Aza, her nails dug into the moss, bracing against Farkas who adjusted himself mounted her high, pumping into the adventurer with the same fervor he usually reserved for battle.   “F-fuck!” She breathed, supporting herself on outstretched arms. Her back was sure to be hurting in the morning. “Harder!” She cried through the lustful haze that settled over her vision.   The next thrust nearly smothered her flat. Farkas bent over her, his sweaty, hairy chest grinding against Aza’s back. He grunted ferally, closing his teeth on the woman’s shoulder. Aza yowled, welcoming the throbbing pain of his jaws and the hot, grazing pleasure of his cock tenderizing her overflowing pussy. His girthy shaft kept sliding inside her at a perfect angle, hitting against her cervix, sending bolts of white-hot pleasure all the way up to her navel.   She had Nords before, and they seldom left her dissatisfied, but this man was a one of a kind experience, even if he refused to fuck her as a werewolf.   “Want me to help you come?” Farkas rumbled low next to her ear.   Words were too complicated and Aza was only able to stutter a suffocated ‘uh-huh’ as confirmation. Farkas stuffed his thick fingers into her mouth, she sucked on them loudly, coating with her saliva. Pleased by her eagerness and the slutty sounds she was making, Farkas reached under her, closing the tips of his fingers around her clit. He didn’t bother with teasing or any subtlety, roughly rolling the throbbing pearl, causing the adventurer’s mind to melt and her pussy quiver and heat up with approaching orgasm.   Aza came with a shameless, ecstatic groan, losing her senses and strength completely. She fell flat on the ground, her joints too weak to support them both. Farkas let out a pleased grunt, hilting himself inside her to the limits, taking in the rhythmic convulsions of her abdomen.   “Gods, yes…” She heaved, barely able to move, her body reduced to a quivering mess of numbing muscles. “W-what are you doing?” She asked, looking over her shoulder with some effort when Farkas pulled his slicked cock out of her thoroughly pounded snatch.   “Better if I don’t come in ya.” He warned, standing up.   “No, please!” Aza protested weakly, hurt that he would deny her the pleasure of flooding her insides with his cum. “I want it so bad!”   He only shook his head, adamant about his decision. He took himself in the hand and began stroking, gesturing at the adventurer to give him so attention. Aza pouted, shuffling on the thoroughly raked moss to kneel before him, teasing his swollen, hot glans with her agile tongue. She moaned, suckling at the tip with need, looking up at him imploringly. Though she just came, she wanted more of this beast of a man. Gods, what was going on? This primal urge to mate was not her normal promiscuity. Something else was at play here, and she hadn’t the resolve to fight it.     “You got nice lips. Soft.” Farkas praised, keeping her in place by the shoulder, energetically jerking himself off. “I’m almost there, get ready.”   He rocked his hips into his painfully clenched hand. His sweaty palm and Aza’s slick juices on his veiny shaft drove him to climax in seconds. He grunted ferally, coming hard and plentiful, his come shooting under incredible pressure right into Aza’s mouth. The woman gagged and coughed, surprised by how hard and generous the first spasm of his orgasm was. She swallowed a mouthful, another thick rope of cum hitting her cheek in the meantime. She stuck out her tongue to catch the third one, but it missed, the load landing on her chin and dripping down her chest like lewd icing. Her eyes widened as another finally landed on her tongue. Gods… was it over?   No, Farkas wasn’t done yet. He continued stroking himself, painting Aza’s face and breasts with his hot, sticky load until she was soaked in his cum from head to laps.   “Gods… how?” She uttered bewildered after he was finally out of ammo. No man had ever come this plentiful for her.   Farkas merely smiled, looking down at his handiwork with pride. He flicked off a stream of cum dripping from her chin and sat down on the moss, stretching lazily with a loud crack of bones. Ignoring Aza’s protests and demands for a rematch, he reached for the flask with moonshine, chugging on the burning drink with delight.   “That was the biggest load I’ve ever seen! Why didn’t you come inside me!” Aza nagged like she was a victim to some grave injustice.   “I could. But something tells me you wouldn’t want to settle down to raise a litter with me.” Farkas smirked, scratching himself on the stomach.   “L-litter?” Aza blinked, mortified at the very prospect.   “I’m a werewolf, remember? Very virile. And fertile.” He explained patiently, offering her the flask.   “Fuck, I didn’t have my potion on me.” Aza realized with crushing clarity. “And I begged you to breed me. How could that happen?! I’m not some stupid lassie, but I was completely cockdrunk!” She cried out, embarrassed by her complete lapse in judgement.   “Must be something to do with the way werewolves smell when we mate. Some women go temporarily mad from it. Vilkas could tell you more.” He explained lightheartedly. “Are you going to drink that?”   The Redguard gulped and swallowed the orcish brew, glad that the burning liquid gave her something to focus on.   “Hey?” Farkas nudged her shoulder with his forehead, like a faithful hound. “It’s okay. I won’t judge and I won’t tell anyone. If you want, I can go down on you again. Just… rinse yourself off first.”   “How are you still single?” She chuckled, handing over the flash.   “I never thought about it.” He replied with endearing honesty.   ---   The next day Aza was closing her knapsack with a heavy sigh. It was time to go, but she really didn’t want to leave Jorrvaskr. Being a Companion was nice, even if she wasn’t as idealistic as some of them. She had a comfy bed, good food and drink at her disposal, access to high-quality gear and a variety of jobs she could take for decent pay. Not to mention some good dick!   She threw the knapsack over her shoulder, scanned her bed one last time to make sure she didn’t miss anything and turned around to leave.   “Leaving so soon?” Aela asked, leaning against the doorframe of the whelp quarters. “Miss the road?”   “Yeah.” Aza sighed, not surprised the Huntress snuck up on her this easily.   “I’m not going to stop you. But before you leave, meet me and Skjor in the training grounds after dark. We have something planned for you. Something special.” The redhead revealed, smiling slightly.   Aza smiled back dumbfounded. Was this… what she thought it was? Did Aela just invite her into a threesome? Gods, she was a lucky woman!   “I have this important thing to do…” The Redguard rubbed the back of her neck trying to look hesitant, but she wasn’t fooling anyone, already giving in to the idea of getting to know the redhaired huntress and Skjor on a more intimate level.   “That tomb you wanted to raid, right?” Aela remembered. “Relax. It’s been standing for centuries, it can wait another day for you.”   “Okay.” Aza grinned, completely giving in, her resolve and determination melting under lust.   “Great! Eat and drink your day away, you’ll need all of your strength for the evening, trust me. And don’t be late!”   ---   “You’re here. Good.” Skjor greeted, measuring Aza from head to toe. “Aela is already inside waiting for us. Best not keep her waiting.”   “Inside where?” The adventures asked puzzled, looking around.   Skjor smirked, pressing an unassuming detail in the stone wall he was leaning against. A section of the rock sunk into the wall and slid aside without the faintest sound, revealing a dark, narrow entrance.   “This is the entrance to the Underforge. Few are allowed the honor of entering. You may go on ahead.” He encouraged, amused by the confusion and anticipation mixing on the adventurer’s face.   Aza cracked a confident smile. Was this some sort of secret, ancient hideaway for the Companions to fuck the night away? Morhwa’s many teats, this was going to be a night to remember! She stepped into the darkness, Skjor followed.   A few moments later she raced out of the Underforge with sheer terror in her eyes. She sprinted past the training grounds and down the stairs to the Winds District. Not slowing down her pace, she ran all the way to the city gates and hadn’t slowed down until she ran past the stables, all the way shouting an incoherent jumble of words like:   “Nope, nope, nope. Fuck, this, fuck that. I’m outta here!”

Chapter 1 - the Party is Over

"Cheers, loves! The alcohol is here! And sorry I'm late." Big Ben announced, entering the room straight out of the October chill Well, not the actual Big Ben, but Tracer, dressed as the monument. Her chronal accelerator, protruding under the cylindrical costume, illuminated the face of the clock, both dials set on 12. "Nice." Ana praised, taking sacks with bottles from the new guest. "You come on right in, everyone's here." "Hey, Jesse! Guess what time it is? " She asked McCree (who for this occasion dropped the cowboy getup for a monster hunter costume), pointing at the two dials on her chest. "It's…" "Midnight!" She cut in, giving him her signature giggle. "What's with all the glass?" She asked, noticing the shards that weren't cleared out yet. "Reyes made his grand entrance." Jesse explained with a snicker. "Should have seen the look on Rein's face." The bash was at that stage where guests divide into small groups and scatter all over the house. But that didn't discourage Lena from heading straight into the kitchen, the heart of every houseparty. --- "By the way, nice costume, Gabe. Did your mother sew it?" Jack teased, reaching into the fridge for another bottle of lager. After tasting European brews he promised himself to never drink American swill again. "Actually, I made it myself. I like yours, though. Very accurate representation of a mid-life crisis." Reyes replied nonchalantly, sipping on his third vodka. "Ouch. Don't drag me like this, pumpkin." Morrison saved face. "I can drag you to my place if you'd like." The other offered. " I'm feeling charitable tonight. Everyone knows you need some, so I'm willing to take one for the team." "Don't." Jacked warned, conjuring all his authority as the strike commander. But the way his eyes averted from his old friend betrayed he was giving the offer a thought. "Hiya!" Tracer materialized between them, cutting their conversation short. "Whoa, great costumes!" "Big Ben! Wasn't expecting that. Great idea." Jack praised inspecting her costume. "I made it myself." Tracer said proudly.      "It's… not bad." Gabe joined in. For a split second he sounded… friendly. "I'm off for a smoke." He then declared, leaving the kitchen before he got too pleasant. "We have a code red." Ana warned, entering just as Reyes left. "Our doctor overdid the punch." "Just like last year." Jack sighed. "Where is she?" "I left her on the balcony to get some air." Ana sighed. "Someone needs to take her home, though." --- "Shit. Code red." Gabriel realized, finding Angela sitting on the cold tiles, rocking back and forth. "You ok?" He asked as casually as he could, lighting his deathstick. "You shouldn't be sitting out here like that." He nagged, helping her get up. The witch costume was amazing. Looked fine on the doctor, perfectly suited her figure, unlike the weather. She must have made it herself, but it was obvious it took a lot of time and dedication. "Thank you. I hadn't had the chance to tell you how much I love your costume." She hummed. "I'm glad you came this year." She confessed, looking at him warmly. Her pupils weren't focused at his face, though. Yep, she was hammered. "You weren't with us last year." "I had work. Classified." He tried to avoid deeper conversation. "I know." Mercy frowned. "It's just… We don't get together, the whole group, as much as we used to, you know?" "Time flies. Things change." "Blödsinn!" The good doctor was about to elaborate, but instead she swooned like a damsel. He had no other choice but to grab her, lest she topples over the railing. "My devious plan failed." She confessed, leaning on him. "I was hoping to seduce you tonight." Perhaps it was the alcohol, perhaps the part of Reinhardt's story about the witch and her undead servant (a bit creepy, but still hot), which made her really horny. The way you could only be after a Halloween party. That special kind of seasonal sluttyness you just wanted to share with someone. "Come on, Gabe. You can do it. Breathe in, breathe out, say 'no' and leave with Morrison." The voice of reason squeaked faintly somewhere in the back of his head. "She's so vulnerable, don't be a dick!" "To hell with Morrison! Take the doctor home!" The more devious voice roared somewhere closer. "At this state she'll be up for anything!" "You… don't want to, right?" She took his silence as refusal. "Normally I'd be all over you." He quickly assured, getting a grip of himself. "But we're too drunk to have any real fun." That was a half-truism. He was barely tipsy. She was wasted. He was in the mood for some more rowdy fucking for which Jack was perfect. Mercy would probably agree to anything at this point, but she would have huge regrets in the morning. That wasn't worth risking their special kind of friendship. "Oh." Mercy peeled herself away reluctantly. "Okay. I get it." "No, you don't." He retorted, briefly squeezing her lovely ass. "Remind me to bend you over my knee once we get together." "Y… you promise?" "Promise. I'll call you. Now, let me get someone to ride you home." He promised, throwing the finished cigarette over the railing. --- Ana was already cleaning the bottles and dishes. It was plain that the event was over. Typical Halloween party scenario - first the official lighthearted 'spooky' part, then the fuckfests in private.  Ana and Reinhardt were obviously staying for that, so they were out of the equation. He didn't trust Jesse to drive the doctor home. Not that the runt would pose her any threat. It's just that McCree would not be able to say no to her pretty face and would drop his breeches the moment she asked. And it was guaranteed Mercy would ask. Torb? No, the violent sounds of a stomach being emptied coming from the bathroom (followed by Rein's laughter) suggested he needed more help than Mercy. "Hey, Oxton." He called out, seeing the perfect victim. "Come here for a sec." "Sure, love." Lena said unsuspectingly, as she came closer. "Party's over." He declared sternly. "Time to go." "I noticed." She agreed saddened. She didn't even get a chance to grab a drink. "Here's some cash." Reyes offered, pulling a wad of bills from his inner pocket and stuffing a few in her hand. "Get a cab, take the doctor home." He paused, noticing the way Tracer sulked. "Here's something extra. Take yourself to a bar, night's still young." "You don't have to." Tracer tried to protest. "Just take Angela home safely and treat yourself with the change." Gabe cut the conversation short, in a tone that ended all opposition. "You got it!" She swore, tucking the cash somewhere under the Big Ben costume. "You know, that is really sweet of you. You're a real dear!" Hearing that Reyes leaned over, in all his bulky, intimidating glory. He smiled in a way that pronounced a scar he had on his lover lip, which made Lena's stomach tighten. "Go ahead." He dared. "Tell them. No one will ever believe you. Just remember… I know where you live." "Scary!" Tracer squeaked, hopping to the balcony door. --- "Ok, let's get going." "Change of plans." Morrison sighed, finishing his last beer. "What?" Gabriel's brow rose. Did someone else…?! "Hi boss!" McCree appeared form behind Morrison. "You took your sweet time playing gentleman, so I had to step in and sweep the commander off his feet." "You're fucking me, right?" Gabe grunted more surprised than angered by such insolence. "Sadly, not tonight." Jack shrug his shoulders, savoring the moment. "Let's go, daddy!" Jesse ushered, pulling Jack out of the kitchen, getting into his boyish and spoiled power bottom persona. "See you tomorrow, boss!" And it was at that moment, when he was all alone in the kitchen, that Gabriel knew - he played himself.

Chapter 2 - Afterparty

"I really appreciate you taking me back home." Angela thanked on their way to her place. "Sure thing!" Tracer tried to act as cheerfully as she could, looking out of the cab's window. But in truth, she wasn't feeling the Halloween spirit anymore. "Did you like the party?" Mercy asked, too drunk to register that Tracer arrived at the very ending. "It was fun." Lena assured mechanically, not bothering with correcting her friend. "Too bad Winston couldn't come." "Neither could Genji." "We're here." The driver cut in, parking in front of Angela's apartment building. "I got this." Lena assured, fishing out a few crumpled bills from under her costume. "No, really. It's fine." She emphasized, just as Mercy was about to protest. "You'll pay for lunch next time or something." "At least come up for… uh… tea." Angela offered, avoiding the topic of alcohol. She had enough for tonight. "Unless you want to head home?" "No, no! I'd love to!" Lena accepted the offer with relief. ---  Mercy's place was nice. Bright, welcoming and cozy. Not in the way carefully stylized furniture catalogues show you - it had genuine character. And her couch was incredibly comfy, Lena was sinking into the cushions, sipping on tea. "I hope I wasn't too much of a burden." Angela mused, drinking hers, growing embarrassed of how sappy she was just 30 minutes ago. " "You're never a burden, love!" Tracer assured, leaning to sling her arm over her friend's shoulder. Unfortunately she put too much energy in the gesture, her chronal accelerator painfully hit Mercy's side. The doctor motioned away with a pained wheeze, her teacup slipped of her lap, hot tea spilled on her pristine cream rug. "Scheiße!" Angela cursed, jolting to the kitchen. Tracer was already ahead of her, blinking out of the room, reappearing a split second later - out of costume (now wearing only leggins and a tank top) and on her knees, working on getting the stain out. "S-sorry." She uttered, energetically rubbing the spill with a paper towel. "No harm done." Ziegler assured, squatting next to her. "You didn't meant it." The silence that followed was long enough to get uncomfortable. "I think that's enough." Angela said in a comforting tone. "You'll make a hole soon." Tracer hung her head, her shoulders trembled. She leaned back, supporting herself against the couch, hiding her face between her knees. "I hate this stupid thing." She confessed, pointing at the harness she had to wear around her chest at all times. "It's ruining my life. I was late to the party, because no matter what I wore, it was always showing. It was either the stupid Big Ben costume or that puppy onesie I wore last year." "Lena…" "I can't even relax around my friends. This piece of rubbish always gets in the way." Her voice broke down and Tracer launched into a full cry. Mercy perched at her side, unsure what to do. She was still pretty drunk… and horny…  But her friend needed help. Silently, she motioned closer, their shoulders touched. As if waiting for a signal, Lena leaned on her, literally crying on Mercy's shoulder, until she felt weak, resting on the doctor's lap. "This whole evening was a disaster." Oxton sighed, rolling to her back, still resting her head on Ziegler's lap. "I had a wardrobe crisis. I arrived at the very end. I didn't even get a drink. I ruined your carpet. And now I just want to go home…" "You can stay the night if you want." Mercy offered, stroking her friend's hair. "I don't want either of us to be alone tonight." Tracer was no fool. Angela was offering something more than friendly hospitality. Without unnecessary ado, she raised up to kiss the doctor. Mercy cupped her friends head as their lips gently tested each other, before parting for a taste. Angela tasted of that spiked pumpkin punch - mellow, with a surprise spicy kick. Tracer indulged, embracing the doctor greedily. With soft sights and muffled moans they began undressing each other, shifting to lay down. Mercy ran her hand down Lena's side. Tracer was the embodiment of perky - long slim limbs, small yet bouncy breasts and a firm ass. The harness spoiled the view, but it was a necessity to keep it on. "Uh… If I knew you'd fancy a shag, I'd prepare." Lena twitched nervously when the doctor slid down her panties, bringing into light a dark bush. "Don't be absurd. I like you just the way you are." With that, Angela spread Lena's legs and dug in. The hairs were soft, but not as soft as the flesh underneath. Mercy slid her tongue from the already wet opening to the hardening clit, then stuck her fingers inside, sucking hard on the throbbing nub. Tracer dug her fingers into the rug, while Angela's worked her pussy like a professional. "Y… your anatomy lessons paid off." She tried to mask with a joke how she was melting in the doctor's tender grasp. "My years of experience with other women paid off." Mercy smugly retorted, slipping another finger inside Lena's tight pussy, then curling it to find the G-spot. "Works every time." She smiled, seeing Tracer tense and arch her back as she kept teasing the sensitive spot inside her. The doctor shifted her position, still fingering the pilot. She leaned forward to suckle on one of Tracers hard nipples, then unexpectedly bit into it. "Aaah… Love, you shouldn't be doing that." Lena protested weakly. "Why? something's wrong?" Her friend asked concerned, blowing on the sore nipple. "I'll come too soon!" She giggled, heaving. "I want to do you too." "Just enjoy yourself and then we'll focus on me. I have an idea how we can pick up after you're…" She looked up to meet with Tracer's gaze. "… done." She emphasized, spreading her fingers wide, then thrusting rapidly. That was too much for the pilot to bear. She tossed, bending her legs like a kitten rolled on its back. Her laughter fell into a moan and Tracer came with Mercy's loving assistance. For a moment everything seemed muffled and distant, the only thing real was the heat in her abdomen and pounding in her chest. She sighed with relief after regaining her composure, though her womb was still rhythmically convulsing. Her eyes were still closed - she wanted to savor this moment. Something obstructed the light. When Tracer looked up she saw that Mercy straddled herself above her face - the doctor smooth pussy was just above her lips. Not needing any further incentive, Lena got a hold of her hips, her tongue drilled into Mercy's overflowing vagina. "Best. Halloween. Ever!" She thought, pulling Mercy closer, for a deeper taste.

Chapter 0 - CH1

Los Angeles. A multicultural wonder of entertainment and glitz. Energetic, exciting… and a bit too loud for Angela's taste. But duty, not leisure, called her here. She came to the City of Angels for a movie premiere, the Six-Gun Killer. There was nothing remarkable about the movie itself, but rather its director - an omnic. Given that an omnic advocate of peace between humans and machines was recently assassinated in London, things were tense.   This was not official Overwatch business, as there was no Overwatch to speak of. Six years ago, when the Swiss Headquarters and the organization went to hell... No, there was no point in dwelling on ancient history. She was here unofficially, as a courtesy to a colleague she had in UN diplomacy.   Thankfully, the premiere went without an incident. After a courtesy drink with Hal-Fred Glitchbot doctor Ziegler, also known as Mercy, returned to her hotel room. Meeting the director was an interesting experience, but duty called again - she was needed elsewhere. Iraq to be more precise.   Mercy kicked her high heels off with relief - the tang of champagne was still in her mouth. It was nice to taste a bit of luxury, but she had work to do.   She undressed, slipping into a fuzzy hotel bathrobe. Just as she was about to call it a night, her private mobile ringed. It was an unknown number, which was enough to arouse suspicion - there was no reason anyone other than her closest contacts would know this number.    She answered the call hesitantly, already not liking this. An unknown face appeared on the screen of the device. A young man of mixed ethnicity. She could only see him from shoulders up, but she instantly recognized him as a mercenary.   "You're Overwatch, right?" He immediately asked, not bothering with introductions. He was clearly on the run and frightened of something.   "Who are you, how did you get this number?" She demanded incredulously.   "I'm with Talon. Well… was." The merc explained, taking a pause to look over his shoulder. By his surroundings Ziegler could guess he was in the woods.   "What do you want?"   "Listen, lady, my life is on the line!" The man confessed. "He's going to kill me!"   "Who?"   "Our strike commander, the guy's insane! H-he's got some grudge against you guys, won't stop at nothing to get his hands on ex-Overwatch! I-I didn't want to stick around after seeing how he operates. And now he's out to get me!"   "That's your problem." She scoffed. Although earning the codename 'Mercy', Angela had no intention of wasting her compassion on those who did not deserve it. Especially Talon mercenaries - regardless if present or former.   "Look, you have no reason to help me, but I swear, if you take me in, a prisoner of war or something, I'll give you all the dirt on Talon I have." He promised, his voice full of desperation.   "Where are you?"   "The observatory at Griffith Park. Hurry!" The mercenary ushered, before abruptly cutting off.   Angela put the device away with a heavy sigh. It was stupid to rush in alone to a secluded location. This could be a trap, former Overwatch agents had more than enough enemies worldwide.   But she was not without an advantage of her own. Namely, her Valkyrie swift-response suit that she had stored in a secure container in the next room.   ---   The merc shrugged, unsure if the doc believed him or not. But he had nowhere else to turn to. He'd rather rot in jail for the rest of his life, than be hunted by Talon. And after seeing first-hand of what the strike commander was capable of, he knew the hunt wouldn't take long.   He walked out of the woods into a clearing, then crossed the path to the observatory. He halted, suddenly realizing the unnatural silence. The hairs on the back of his neck rose in attention.   He bolted, crossing the neatly trimmed grass in front of the observatory. The door was locked tight for the night. He forced it open with a kick - hysterical panic giving him a sudden boost in strength.   He passed the lobby when it was too late - the air around him thickened, slowing him down.   "No…!" He croaked, feeling the ominous presence getting closer. "Not like this!" He cried, reaching for his sidearm, and turning around to face the inevitable.   "Death comes for all." The darkness impassively said, closing in on him, suffocating his screams.   ---   Angela could take a cab and then walk, but her outfit would arouse too much suspicion. And more importantly - she had no time to lose. She chose to suit up and fly.   She zipped up to the cable-car station, a few minutes of walk from the observatory. The lights of LA glimmered behind her. If she had any time to spare, she would take a moment to admire the view.   Nearing the entrance, she felt unease, like she was watched. But she knew that an attack wouldn't happen in the open terrain, where she could fly away from danger.   No, whatever would happen will take place within the observatory. Lo and behold, the main door was ajar.   ---   After disposing of the troublesome merc, he had no reason to stick around. Not even for the view of his home city, which conjured up so many memories.   And yet he wanted to know who the pathetic maggot begged for help, so he reached for the mobile device on the ground. He could not believe the number on the screen. Doctor Ziegler. How did that coward get her number? That didn't matter. He had to stay and wait if she shows up. He couldn't pass up this opportunity.   And what if she does come? She was on his list, even if she was not a priority, he made no exceptions. Best to trust his instincts and wait. He'll decide what to do once he sees her.   Some time passed when he heard a subtle chime - Valkyrie wings. Unbelievable. The doctor was here, in LA of all places. And again, she was poking her sweet face into his business. But this time, unknowingly.   Before he could decide what's next, she entered the observatory. Good, hope she likes the gift he left for her.   ---   It wouldn't be wise to illuminate the interior with her staff - she'd be too easy to spot. Then again, her heels could be heard without much effort. A single point of warm glow from the tip of the caduceus helped her see clearly where she was going.   There were prints on the polished marble floor - heavy military boots painted in mud and grass. Mercy followed the path until reaching a large semicircular window.   A man, no doubt the mercenary who called her, stood motionlessly, his back facing her. He seemed to be completely preoccupied with the vista in front of him.   "I'm here. Let's go." She said, but there was no answer.   Already knowing this will turn out grim, she put her hand on the man's shoulder and turned him to face her.   "Gott im Himmel…" She whispered, seeing his face before he toppled - a pale, drained husk with blind eyes and mouth opened wide for a scream that never came.   Talon got to him first, which confirmed her suspicion - she wasn't alone. Was this a set up? Did they cut this poor soul loose to lure her out? Or was she simply too late and they got to him first… and now wanted to kill two birds with one stone?   If there was going to be a fight, she couldn't let herself get grounded - she had to get out of here! And just as that thought crossed her mind, she realized the light form her staff was growing dim. Or rather, the darkness in the building got… thicker.   Instead of taking the foolish route and going back the way she came, Angela chose to shoot her way out. Glass shattered, in a blink she felt fresh air and wind in her face.   This wasn't over yet. Talon. The way the merc died. And what he said over the call…   "Our strike commander, the guy's insane! H-he's got some grudge against you guys, won't stop at nothing to get his hands on ex-Overwatch!"   The profile fit only one notorious terrorist - the Reaper.

Chapter 2 - CH2

Dandy sniffed the spot he usually peed on, then did his thing. This was his turf, and other dogs better know it!   “Good boy!” Hawke praised, patting him on the head.   She looked up at the ugly statue erected after the Arishok’s defeat. It looked nothing like her, though the brutish part of her liked that the Qunari leader’s head was crushed under her heel. Regardless, the statue was painful to look at, unnecessary and expensive. Aveline had so much to say about how the money spent on it could be utilized better, that she made an outline. Hawke joked the guard captain should write her own manifesto against the injustice it presented to good taste, but shut her mouth seeing the look in Aveline’s eyes. Yet, she couldn’t agree more. Around a week later the statue was vandalized by unknown culprits… Namely: Hawke, Isabela and Fenris. The guard hadn’t opened any investigation.   Ah, good times.   Dandy was done marking the statue as his own. He barked, prancing around his mistress, demanding some attention. Bonnie nodded with approval and they went back the way they came, passing the now barred gate to the Qunari compound. No one was admitted entrance since the Qunari incident and the place was already being claimed by the Chantry, the sunburst banners flapping in the breeze.   But before the Chantry got a hold of the place, it stood empty and vacant for a short time, which made Bonnie remember another kink Anders loved. Public sex.   She suspected it originated from his time in the Ferelden Circle, where as a young horny apprentice he would play a perverse game of cat and mouse with the templars. She smirked imagining young Anders seducing both Enchanters and other apprentices. It wasn’t about being caught that turned him on, though adrenaline could be addictive. He mostly got his kicks from blatantly disobeying norms and rules preventing him from doing something he wanted and enjoyed.   Like fucking in the abandoned Qunari compound.   Rain poured down on them, the only upside was that heavy downpour dulled the distinctive smell of Lowtown docks. They ran in the pounding streams, seeking any shelter. Their search was in vain.   “I give up!” Bonnie surrendered, standing with her arms and legs wide apart. “I can’t get wetter than this!”   She pirouetted and tiptoed dramatically in the middle of the empty unloading district. Anders stifled a laugh, shrugging his shoulders. It was no use, his pauldrons were ruined. Though he couldn’t complain, it was his idea to go on a short walk to help Bonnie sober up after a night of drink and cards in the Hanged Man. It was one of the rare instances the two of them would manage to go, though as usual he didn’t drink. Justice wouldn’t allow it.   After half an hour of wandering the docks and staring at the ominous silhouette of the Gallows looming in the distance, Bon felt much better. That was also when thunder raced across the sky and the clouds ripped asunder.   Hawke, now completely sober, jumped into the biggest puddle she could find, spraying muddied water. Her hair completely loosened, sticking to her face, her fair cheeks blushed and pink.   “You’ll catch a cold.” He said calmly, brushing her fringe off her eyes.   “You’ll heal me.” She retorted with confidence.   “Love, I was never a fan of using magic for everything. If you catch a cold, I won’t wave it off with my hand. Your body knows best how to heal itself.” He said calmly. “Besides, if I use a spell, I won’t be able to rub healing ointment on your tits.”   She threw her head back bursting into laughter. This was the perfect opportunity for a romantic, cliché kiss in the rain. Anders took it.   “Mm…” Hawke purred, rubbing their reddened noses together after he allowed her to catch her breath. “Worth getting soaked.”    He offered her his shoulder and they made their way towards the stone stairs leading to the upper district. Mud and residue washed down from Lowtown, making the trip up the slippery steps too dangerous. They had to wait.   “Well… At least it’s not… No, I have nothing.” Hawke sighed defeated, unable to make any witty comment. “Come on, there’s some cover over there.”   She led him to the arch with the long closed gate to the Qunari compound. Anders squeezed water out of his ponytail, but that didn’t do much. Maker, when they get home he could use a hot bath, dry clothes and something hot to drink. Then maybe some lazy lovemaking under at least two blankets. That would be ideal.   It thundered again, but this time accompanied by a metallic clang.   “What are you…?” He asked, seeing Bonnie hit the padlock with the pommel of her sword the second time. The metal gave in without much protest. Hawke yanked the padlock off and untangled the heavy chain keeping both sides of the gate in place.   “Since when are you averse to trespassing, love?” She retorted with a smug grin. “Come on, let’s look around.”   They slipped inside, Hawke wrapped the chain back between the iron bars, slapping the damaged padlock on. No one would be the wiser, lest they are standing right in front of the gate, which at this time and weather was very unlikely.   The compound had an ominous vibe about it. Even with the Qunari long gone their stern influence was felt in every heap of debris, every splinter. The two automatically headed to where the Arishok would be presiding; on a makeshift throne erected on top of a set of stone steps.   Bonnie whistled, without its usual resident they could see the size of that seat. She boldly climbed the stairs and run her hand against the bare wood. She then seated herself, getting comfortable and giving Anders a commanding look.   “Now, basra, it’s time to…”   “Satisfy the demands of your Qun?” The mage guessed, climbing the steps, already unhooking the chain keeping his feathery mantle in place.   “Am I really that predictable?” Bonnie pouted, putting her blade aside.   “Only when you try to be funny.” He replied, resting his staff next to the greatsword.   She looked up at him, happy to see how he changed during those months. Ever since moving in, he gained some weight and the deep shadows under his eyes seemed to brighten. And although he was still burdened with his curse, the taint and most importantly – his cause, he was still a person. And like any person he needed a distraction to keep him from falling into pieces. Especially with the mess that began after the Viscount’s death.   Bonne hoped she offered much in terms of comfort and compassion, but sometimes the best thing one could do for another is fuck their brains out and leave them comfortably numb. Anders deserved those precious moments.   She got to unfastening his pants, but Anders would have none of it.   “Let’s focus on you, love… Though undressing would be in order.”   The seating was rough under her bare ass, so was his tongue. She rested her feet on his shoulders, her nails dug into the armrests. Her mage lover had such an eager mouth, his tongue grinded against her hardened clit, pausing only to slide inside her. Take that, Arishok’s ghost!   The skies replied to her blatant lack of respect with a roaring thunder that struck somewhere dangerously close. Hawke yelped, her legs squeezed unfortunate Anders’ head.   “Bon! Are you getting off on hurting me during sex?!” He cried, grabbing her thighs to pry them off, with little success.   “I’m sorry!” Hawke apologized yet another time when she forgot about her strength. “I got scared.” She confessed embarrassed, relaxing her muscles.   “Aww, is my sweetheart afraid of the storm?” Anders teased, reaching to stroke her cheek. “How about you sit on my laps and tell me all about it?”   Bonnie mused whether to pinch him or fuck him. Her lust for mage cock surpassed her pride.   “Relax, we’re not the highest point in the area. We’re safe.” He assured a few minutes later when another thunder interrupted Bonnie riding him.   “I know!” She pouted like a brat, holding him tighter, resuming the pace.   He stroked her back, sitting in the Arishok’s place with a smug look on his face. Hawke bounced up and down his shaft, her tits grinded against his chest, her hot breath was on his neck. Somehow, even the rain seemed pleasant, invigorating.   Again, it thundered. Bonnie gasped, bending back on his laps, her pussy clenched his prick in a sudden spasm of surprise and primitive fear of lightning. Anders comforted, but the mischievous side of him wondered would she do that sudden spasm again if let’s say… Lightning were to strike a bit closer.   “It’s alright, love. I’m here to keep you safe. “He assured, patting the back of her head, though his other hand shot up at the sky, his wrist twirling, fingers sparkling with force.   Bonnie muttered something about being Champion and that a bit of light and noise weren’t enough to put her off guard. A second later, when a magic thunderbolt hit so close that light and sound reached them at the same time, she proved how false that statement was; she screeched, the convulsion of her abdomen ripped a ecstatic cry from the mage’s throat.   “Maker!” She shouted with a shiver, burying her face in the groove between his neck and shoulder.   “Ah… sorry about that.” Anders apologized, letting her get some rest and thrusting himself from underneath.   “What are you sorry about?” She asked, looking him in the eye. “No. You didn’t.” She mouthed when it hit her. “Please tell me you did not just summon that last one.”   He was in no position to lie  his way out of that one, not with her on his laps, piersing him with those gray eyes. So he chose to use his tongue in a more creative way…   “Champion.” A templar addressed, rudely disrupting Hawke’s flow of thought.   They were everywhere. From Hightown to the lowliest part of the docks. This one was assigned to watching the gates to the closed compound, as if a guard couldn’t do that. Then again, guards were doing work that actually mattered, so it wasn’t that bad. She fought the impulse to grind her teeth, nodded and passed the steel-clad wretch, walking the stairs leading to Lowtown. Dandy trotted faithfully at her side.   The mabari stopped halfway through. He sniffed the ground, lift his leg and surprisingly, since he already relieved himself, let out an impressive stream of urine that zigzagged down the steps. The stream would eventually reach the feet of the templar standing just at the their base. The dog looked an its mistress, the maw almost human-like in its haughty pride.   “Good boy!” Bonnie praised, scratching Dandy behind the ear.   Who said mabari weren’t smart?

Chapter 1 - CH2

"So it's a chase. Good." He purred excited, following her as a cloud of pure shadow and smoke. He was glad this wasn't going to be that easy. The doc always had her wits about her, so cornering her without effort would be just insulting.   Ziegler made the fatal mistake of looking over her shoulder. That moment of hesitation was enough for the black cloud to reach her. The darkness pulled her in, smothering, suffocating, sucking the life out of her.   "Never!" She protested, channeling her staff with light. The darkness retreated with a growl. The sound made her stomach tighten.   Regaining her composure, she floated a few meters away. Meanwhile, the black cloud morphed into a human form, but it was still ethereal from the waist down. The only point of brightness was an ominous skeletal mask, faintly resembling an owl.   "You look like you've seen a ghost." He said, amused by the immediate effect he had on people. His voice sounded gritty with a faint echo - indeed like a ghost. Immediately he dodged to the side, else his mask would get smashed by Mercy's staff. "Isn't that used for healing?" He taunted the futile blow.   "Not when I ram it through your eye." Angela assured, ready for anything.   What was he? Human? Omnic? Something in between? The feedback from her halo suggested a biological organism, but there was something not right. One after another, she was getting alerts in the exact same looping order: ALIVE - LOSING HEALTH - DEAD - HEALING - ALIVE. The systems in her suit were going crazy from the rapid changes his body was going through in a matter of seconds. Was this some clever jamming? An unknown cloaking system?   "No…" She finally realized she saw this pattern before. She created this pattern. "It's you."   "My reputation precedes me." He boasted, pleased by the recognition.   "Gabriel."   The very sound of that name set him off. Gabriel was dead! He was the Reaper, and it was her doing! Mercy didn't bother with talking sense to him - he was too furious to reason with. She dodged the first shot, the second missed her shoulder by an inch. She dashed towards the trees, staying in the air was a death sentence.   She was nearly under cover when the third shot reached its target; her left wing. The world did a barrel roll, the top branches snapped loudly when she fell through them. Thankfully, emergency systems in her suit broke the fall, allowing a gentler landing. Angela picked herself up, adrenaline was doing its thing.   There was no room for sentiment - she ejected both the damaged and intact wing from the suit's frame - they were too cumbersome to maneuver between the trees. She had her staff, blaster and halo - more than enough to have any chance at all.   There was silence, but Mercy knew this was only to lull her into a false sense of relief. Reaper was out there - her own creation, back from the dead with a burning lust for revenge. Did she make a mistake six years ago? She lost so much that horrible day… When she stumbled upon Gabriel among the rubble - she acted. First, no harm, that was her life motto. But… did she go too far in her attempts to save him? He was in agony, when she got him on the operating table there were no vital signs. Desperation lead her to last resorts - experimental nanomedicine. And when she was done…   She snapped back to reality just in time to dodge another shot. Splinters rained form above when he fired a cannonade into the trees. He didn't want her dead… yet. He wanted her to lose her cool and panic. Reaper loved the thrill of the hunt and bit of dramatization. Mercy's brow twitched as she rolled and ducked. Even after death, some things did not change.   Unaware of his abilities, she stayed too long in one place, expecting him to arrive from the direction the shots came. Although Angela listened in on movement in front, she hadn't focused on what was going on at her six. But even if she did, she had no chance to hear Reaper surface form the ground just one step behind her.   ---   A perfect end to a good hunt - Mercy was frightened, yet unharmed. She was unaware of his presence and she had no means of escape without her wings. He had her! He could just reach out and grab her by the hair, then… Then what?   Like a dog that chases after cars, he had no idea what to do once he catches his prey. Spare her the ordeal and just get it over with executioner style - bullet to the back of the head? No, what was the fun in that? This was a chance meeting, nothing he planned himself. He decided to graciously spare her life… tonight.   But he couldn't pass up the opportunity to confront her. To let doctor Ziegler witness how her good intentions turned out. To see the shock on that perfectly tranquil face… And to mess with her.   Mercy screamed when he grabbed her by the wrists and twisted behind her back like a professional. The staff rolled away beyond her reach.       "Any last words?" He asked mockingly.   Of course she struggled, she'd never give up, even if her situation was hopeless. Laughing softly at her futile attempt he let her wiggle away a bit, before pulling back. For a second her behind brushed against his groin.   "What happened to you?" Ziegler asked in disbelief, looking over her shoulder. Gabriel was never an overly gentle man, but learning he was the Reaper was just too much.   "You tell me, doc. You did this to me." He emphasized, his grip tightened.   Mercy sighed in pain, but didn't give up. She kicked blindly; her heel hitting Reaper's shin. He gasped, more surprised than hurt; she had little physical force but never lacked in spirit. Plus, he had armor.   "Don't blame me for your shortcomings. Blackwatch's abuses, the catastrophe in Zurich, and now Talon? All your doing. All your decisions!" She struck back.   "I envy you. So pure, so oblivious of what was really going on inside Overwatch. But I guess they needed someone with a pretty face for the posters and someone behind the shadows… doing the real work." He hissed venomously.   "And by 'pretty face' you obviously don't mean me." Angela guessed. Here we go again, the ridiculous rivalry between Jack and Gabriel, that continued beyond the grave!   "Morrison…" He said that name as if it were a particularly obscene slur. "I can't wait to get my hands on him. Because we both know he survived, they never found his body."   "You two should get a room." Angela sighed. With Gabriel, even revenge had a hint of sexual tension.   "In due time." He assured, locking her wrists in one hand, the other reached to stroke her cheek. Mercy twitched feeling the steel talons on the tips of his gauntlet. "But why spoil the mood?" He inquired, his chin rested on her shoulder. "Let's focus on us."

Chapter 3 - CH3

The Hanged Man. Where else could she end up? Corff should start charging her rent.   The regular patrons were at their usual places, making her wonder have they moved from their spots since she was here last time. The barkeep noticed her immediately, Hawke smiled apologetically. Several of her visits ended in violence and property damage, though that was not her intent! Corff just shook his head and got back to his customer. Hold up. That one looked familiar.   Bonnie examined the man’s noble brow, hawk nose, strong jaw. Nice hair, combed back and braided. He dressed unassuming; simple travel clothes. Though the dagger on his hip and the bow he had nonchalantly propped against the stool he occupied sent a clear message.   Nathaniel Howe – she remembered the man’s name. She first heard it a few weeks ago, from a woman named Delilah, who begged her to find him in the Deep Roads. She was his sister and was worried sick that he hadn’t returned from his mission for the Wardens. Anders was present during Hawke and Delilah’s exchange and could provide some feedback of his own.   Like all facts surrounding his life before Justice, he was vague about his relationship with Nathaniel. From what Hawke could piece together she understood they weren’t like brothers, but Anders had fond memories of the noble archer.   A few days after meeting Delilah they ventured back into the Deep Roads, in the exact same party make-up like six years before: Hawke, Anders, Fenris and Varric. Although the apostate mage swore he would never venture underground again, he followed Hawke for the third time (first being Bartrand’s infamous expedition and second around the time the Carta tried to kill Hawke and her sister). Bonnie could not believe the change in Anders once they found Nathaniel. He was chattier, more laid-back, quipping… and downright poignant towards the Howe.   “Just… Get it out of your system.” Nathaniel said, suddenly halting, his stoic tone hadn’t given away the level of his annoyance.   He was addressing his former comrade, to whom all eyes turned. Anders was grinning, there was either a sharp remark or stupid joke on the tip of his tongue. The archer sighed heavily, like a man at peace with the upcoming blow.   “So, tell me Nathaniel. HOWE are you doing these days?” The mage asked in a tone and pitch Bonnie never heard him use before.   “You’re an idiot.” The Warden replied gravely, resuming his steady pace. Anders followed cheerfully twirling his staff, leaving the rest of the group dumbfounded.   And at that moment Bonnie’s sixth sense told her that her mage lover and the Warden rogue must have had tons of dirty sex back in Amaranthine.   She thanked the Maker for this opportunity. Anders will get his surprise tonight! That is, if his friend from the Wardens will want to play with them. And whether Anders himself will be in the mood for some fun. If not… Well, it would always be nice to have a guest for dinner.   “Dandy!” She addressed her faithful canine. “See that nice man over there? He’s Fereldan, and a noble. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you went over there and introduced yourself. Yes… you’re my wingman.” She came clean when the dog tilted his head. “No, he won’t be your new daddy.” She assured, seeing a hint of confusion in Dandy’s eyes. “In fact, he’s daddy’s old friend. So go over there and do your thing.”   The mabari needn’t hear more. He trotted to the counter and nudged the man’s leg. The Howe looked down from where he was sitting, but even a Grey Warden couldn’t resist Dandy’s natural charm.   “That’s a pureblood mabari!” He said out loud, getting down on one knee to get a closer look, already in the dog’s grasp.   “Messere Howe?” The heroine stepped in, trying to sound natural. “Small world.”   “Serah Hawke.” The rogue straightened up, shaking her hand. “This fine canine must be yours, then.”   “Because it’s a Fereldan thing to keep a mabari?” She guessed.   “Because it’s a dog fit for the Champion.” Nathaniel was as finesse with his tongue as he was with his bow. “Please, join me if you will.”   “I don’t want to impose myself.” Bonnie faked modesty.   “That would be true if you weren’t eying me from the moment you got here and talked your dog into getting my attention.” Nathaniel said with a polite nod.   Sharp, observant, stoic and so gentlemanly. Hawke could not say no to spending some time with him, even if it wouldn’t lead to anything.   “What brings you here?” She asked the obvious, after ordering the usual coppery tasting brew.   “My sister and nephew.” The archer stated the obvious.   “Of course…” Hawke slapped herself on the forehead for such insensitivity. “I’m sorry, I’m terrible at small talk if I have to keep it civil.”   “Weren’t it for you, I wouldn’t see them again.” Nathaniel reminded. “And please, serah, I was stationed in Kirkwall for seven years before coming back to Ferelden. This used to be my favorite bar when off-duty, though that didn’t happen too often.” He added nostalgically. “You needn’t tiptoe around me.”   The next hour they spent on more relaxed conversation, though underneath such safe topics as the way Kirkwall changed (for the worse), the weather and breeding mabari, lied another topic. What to do tonight?   “Yes, serah Hawke. I know you want to invite me over to your estate and show me just how welcoming you are and how much Anders missed me.”   “Messere Howe, are you trying to seduce me? Who am I kidding, you already did.”   It was getting late and if Bonnie wanted to taste some Howe, she had to get him home before Anders comes back. Then prepare the mage for his surprise… after making sure he’s in any condition to frolic tonight.   Dandy flawlessly read mommy’s body language – she was growing impatient of the charade. He whined, resting his head on her lap, staring appealingly at the Warden.   “I know it’s late boy. We’ll be on our way soon.” Bonnie assured, scratching the massive hound behind the ear. “I can imagine you’d want to get back with Delilah?” She risked, addressing the man.   “Oh, no. She and my nephew sailed back to Ferelden today. I decided to stay in Kirkwall for a day or two… before reporting to my superiors.” He revealed, finishing his drink. “Until then, I’m staying here. I got a cozy room upstairs…”   Was it just her or did the faint, barely noticeable smirk he gave her was encouraging? She made her decision in a split-second.   “Unacceptable!” The Champion hit her fist against the counter. “Why in the world would you do that, knowing I’d gladly offer you my hospitality?!” She said offended, keeping up the ruse.   “Serah Hawke, I’d hate to impose…” Nathaniel played hard to get.   “Nonsense!” She cut him off. It was fun to do a bit of teasing and roleplaying, but time was essential. “I’d love to have you as my… our guest. The Hanged Man has its unique atmosphere… But I’m sure you’d rather eat and sleep in much more pleasant conditions, no?” She suggested, knowing that if Varric would hear her, he’d loudly protest against such blatant slurs about his favorite spot.   But Varric wasn’t here, and what was a bit of white lies in the face of a heartwarming reunion between her love and his former tryst? With her in the middle.   “Well, since you put it that way… Lead on.” Nathaniel said, getting up to leave.   ---   Varric observed Hawke dancing her awkward rendition of the mating dance with the Howe. After less than an hour the Warden finally softened up and left with the Champion, gallantly offering her his elbow. Hawke laughed, but accepted and off they were to the estate, followed by happily trotting Dandy.   The dwarf retreated back to his suite, where Isabela was helping herself to his food and drink.   “And what did I tell you?” She said with a smirk, stuffing her mouth with ripe grapes.   “You were right, Rivaini. Off they went. Blondie is up for an interesting evening.” He reported with a grin, relaxing in his favorite chair. “I must say, it is inspiring to see what a good and loyal friend you are.”   “Me?” The pirate queen was truly shocked at such accusations.   “I saw you eying the Howe the day earlier. And yet you didn’t strike.”   “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She pretended not to understand where the dwarf was going with this.   “Come on, you didn’t do it, because you knew Hawke will eventually swing by and take him home.”   “You have pretty eyes…” She said in a sweet tone that ended the conversation.

Chapter 1 - CH1

“Kinks, kinks… Hard to think of new ones.” Hawke brainstormed, pacing around her study.   Anders was a dirty little mage, that went without saying. He once stated he thought that part of him was over when he merged with the spirit of justice… But apparently it was deeply concealed and repressed, until Hawke discovered it like a perverse treasure box hidden in the basement of his mind. She gleefully brought it into the light, turned upside down and dumped all the kinky galore.   They’ve been together for three years now. And although the situation in Kirkwall seemed to go downhill ever since the Qunari crisis, their love life was spectacular. They easily clicked, quickly figuring out what the other liked, needed and felt comfortable with. Those first weeks of discovering each other were magical. Sometimes literally.   “Comfortable?” He made sure, when she bent over for him, her ass up in the air, her face on the pillows.   “As I can be without you inside…” She replied, wiggling impatiently. “Hurry…” She pleaded, her voice strained from waiting.   Anders took a hold of her hips, merely grinding his swollen erection against her vulva. Hawke mewled, pained by being denied of him.   To think they’ve been waiting three years to finally be together! Their first time was fast and chaotic, a little bit awkward, like they were a pair of teens not grownups. Second time the morning after was much better, more patient and refined. Then came the third time, carefree and comfortable. Simply perfect. The sessions that followed were getting better and better, but the best part was that they could still learn something new about each other.   “Please…” She whispered. “Please, love… Don’t hurt me like that.”   “I would never! Well… maybe a little bit.” He teased with a hint of pride that he could make Kirkwall’s Champion this turned on.   She was a warrior, preferring heavy armor and a greatsword. And as such, she was fit and athletic. They were the same height, though Hawke filled her frame better than the gangly mage. And yet, under his touch this bold woman could melt completely.   He entered agonizingly slow, to the very base. She cooed when he filled her up completely, then gasped when Anders abruptly pulled out.   “No!” Hawke protested.   “Shh…” He shushed, sliding back inside with more confidence and force. “I know what I’m doing, sweetheart.”   He made a series of thrusts, then suddenly smothered her, his pronounced hipbones grinding into her nicely firm behind. The Champion cried, feeling the angle and depth focusing on her g-spot. The healer brushed her black hair aside and planted a kiss between her shoulders, where she had a silhouette of a hawk with full-spread wings tattooed, a memento of her brief career as a soldier in King Cailan’s army. Whispering sweet nothings, he admired the muscles of her back and shoulders tense and quiver, giving the impression the bird was in flight. He lazily jerked his loins, inhaling the scent of her sweat.   “Bonnie…” He muttered her name into her ear. “What would you like me to do now?” He asked, his voice soft and low.   “I…” She let out a groan when his teeth sunk into her shoulder. “I want you to bend back and brace yourself against me. I’m taking the lead.”   He followed her instructions, pushing his pelvis forward, his hands behind his back. Bonnie supported herself on outstretched arms and pushed back to meet with his cock. Anders managed to withstand the force and pace she commanded. Some people considered doggystyle a demeaning position. Obviously, those people never thought of the one who was bent over doing all the work. They had no idea what they were missing.   Bonnie rode him with more confidence, her cheeks cushioning the force of impact. She looked over her shoulder with a mischievous look in her bright gray eyes and rammed her ass exceptionally hard against him, hard enough, that Anders lost his balance and fell off the bed with a yelp.   “Andraste’s tits!” She cursed shocked, turning over and creeping over the edge of the bed. “Are you alright?” She asked alarmed.   Anders laid flat on the floor, confusion and embarrassment on his face. He rubbed the back of his head, but dared get up after a longer moment.   “You don’t know your own strength.” Was his reply.   “I’m so sorry!” Bonnie apologized, shuffling to sit at the foot of the bed. “That was foolish of me.” She continued, reaching out to take him by the hand. “Come here and we can start over.”   Anders sighed, intertwining their fingers and letting her pull him closer. Hawke, now cautious and gentle, took his cock in her mouth and gave him a nice, slow suck. Looking up to meet with his eyes, she was the picture of apology. He couldn’t be angry with her for too long, accidents in the bedroom happened. He stroked her cheeks, then sunk his hands in her hair, pushing her head farther down his shaft. Bonnie gagged, but took the challenge.   After another minute or so he let go, pleased to see a thick string of saliva still connecting his member and her lips. She wiped her mouth and pulled herself up on the bed, laying on her back with her bent legs wide apart. She couldn’t look more inviting than this.   “You’re not going to headbutt me, are you?” The mage made sure, laying on her, his tip finding her entrance with no difficulty.   “No, I surrender.” She capitulated, wrapping her arms and legs around him. “I’m yours for the taking.” She swore, giving into his rhythm with a laugh.   Yeah… There were more awkward accidents since then, but that was the fun of experimenting.   But that didn’t help with figuring out what to do tonight. She promised him a surprise, and Maker knows they could both use a distraction. They needn’t say it out loud, but they knew a disaster was approaching. Between Meredith and Orsino, with Elthina passively watching from the sidelines something terrible was brewing. Hawke had no clue what will exactly happen, but had certainty they should enjoy themselves while they can. Until…   No. Don’t torture yourself with this now. When the time comes, you’ll be ready… for whatever happens. Now…   Voyeurism again? He liked to watch, she liked to be watched. That was a kink they discovered by accident, which made it even more fun to play out.   Ever since moving into the estate, Hawke adapted the largest room in the basement into her very own training area where she could go blow off some steam and keep herself in shape. Exercising helped her maintain both physical and mental well-being.   That night she was almost done with her routine, all that was left were pull-ups. She hopped, grabbing the iron bar mounted under the ceiling. Focusing on her breath, she began the last round of exercise, her thoughts drifted to a pleasant, almost trance-like state.   She felt a presence, but that didn’t break her focus. Instead, Hawke glanced at the mirror on the wall in front of her and opposite to the entrance. The mirror was stretching from floor to ceiling, large enough to frame two people standing together. It was an expensive purchase, but she didn’t care, she wanted it in her training room to marvel at herself when she was both exhausted and pumped-up from physical activity.   Her love was casually leaning against the doorframe, already switched into his home attire. She insisted he doesn’t wear his coat when in private, lest she would find feathers everywhere around the house. He was eying her with a pleased smirk, perfectly aware she noticed him. Hawke made nothing of it, continuing her routine, though there was a slight change in her posture. She breathed louder, heavier taking longer to finish each pull-up, stretching her every move in time. Anders’ reflection didn’t complain, marveling at her muscles at work, sweat dripping down her spine, her dampened hair escaping the loose knot on her neck.   Just one more and she was done… there. Bonnie released the bar, landing on the cold tiles. She strutted before the mirror, flexing and stretching as if her lover wasn’t devouring every inch of her body with his eyes. The show she was putting for him was about to get better.   She started unlacing her binder. Though her breasts weren’t as large as let’s say Isabela’s, a binder was a necessity if she wanted to comfortably swing her weapon. Mother used to make them for her… now she had only a handful left… Maker, she had a talent of bringing up sad things when she should enjoy herself.   The binder was tossed aside, her pair bounced unrestrained. She cupped and massaged her breasts with relief, the skin was soft and wet from being stuffed under fabric for so long. It was good to feel her nipples, and not just in a sexual way. The silverite piercings she had through them only added to their sensitiveness. Aside from tattoos, Hawke absolutely adored piercings. Anders never objected, in fact he could find some uses for them. Bonnie closed her eyes, knowing it was only a matter of seconds before she…   … Feels his hands on her shoulders, his palms calloused from his staff and all the work he was doing – be it in his hospice or the mage underground. His cheek brushed against the side of her neck, the stubble thick and rough as always. The heroine cooed pleased, opening her eyes. Maker, the look in his reflections eyes when he was kissing her neck and shoulder. He was just as kinky as herself.   He bumped his pelvis into her behind. Through the skimpy shorts Hawke could feel him harden. She straddled her legs, letting Anders give her a better impression of how turned on he was. He shifted his attention to her tits, pinching and rolling her pierced nipples. He was the one to pierce them, forbidding Hawke to go to any shady Lowtown ‘artist’. He also supervised the aftercare and made sure they healed alright. Silverite was his idea, since the metal was a good conduct for his infamous electricity trick…   Bonnie tensed and moaned when he let a weak shot of lightning dance through his fingers and the piercings. The voltage was low enough to be safe, he knew what he was doing. Bonnie rested her head on his shoulder, but her eyes were fixed on the view in the mirror. She could see Anders’ reflection dispel lightning in one hand, to reach down and slip under her shorts. Her labia parted under his touch, he purred with satisfaction, feeling her moisten and loosen. He slipped two fingers inside and curled them, conjuring a cry from Bonnie when he found that tender spot inside. Her rump grinded against him, the front of her shorts was soaking wet. Maker, did she really made faces like that when aroused? She felt second-hand embarrassment, but could not avert her eyes, she just had to stare at herself, at him, at them.   He had the touch – be it magic lightning or only his fingertips – he could make Hawke come like no one ever could. The heroine felt she was losing herself, her knees pressed firmly together, hips thrusting forward for a deeper angle of his fingers. Maker, almost…   The big ‘o’ washed over her face, she bit hard on her lip, her pussy leaked, tightly enveloping on the mage’s fingers, throbbing with each wave of climax. She moaned, Anders held her tighter, until she lost all energy. He took his wet hand out of her soaked shorts and let her lick it clean, still maintaining eye contact with her reflection.   “Oh, hi! You’re home early!” She greeted cheerfully  a moment later, when they broke the spell binding them to the mirror.   Whimpering drove Hawke’s attention away from her tender memories. Too bad, she was about to reminiscent about how she threw him on the gym mattresses and gave one of the best blowjobs he ever had.   But that would have to wait. Dandy entered the study, carrying his favorite collar in his mouth. The look in his eyes cried ‘mommy, play with me!’   “What is it, boy?” She asked in the distinct babytalk she used when addressing her dog. “Do you want to go out?”   Dandy’s tail waggled so hard it almost fell off. With a laugh, Bonnie took the drool-smeared collar and put it over his neck. She still had time to come up with something, and a walk would do them both some good.

Chapter 2 - CH3

Did he want to murder or fuck her?! Perhaps both? Ziegler collected herself with strain. Come on, just a few minutes ago you were fighting for your life, don't let your guard down now… Damn!   "Didn't you want a revenge?" She breathed, ignoring how his talons trailed down her cheek and neck, obviously heading towards her chest.   "Not tonight." He assured, groping her breast. "You still don't wear underwear?" He noticed, pinching her nipple.   "I need to have full synchronization with my suit!"   "Mhmmm..." He didn't sound convinced, running his finger from side to side, cutting the chestpiece like paper.   "Ah!" Mercy gasped, disturbed by of how easily it gave in.   "It'll only hurt if you fight." He assured, groping her breasts, hard enough to leave bruises afterwards, but not cutting through the skin. His talons stung nonetheless.   "He could slit my throat with those if he wanted to!" A panicked thought ran through her head.   And yet she grinded against him, feeling the pleasant tingling in her lower abdomen. The tiny voice of reason tried to talk some sense into her - this is not the man you once knew, he's an international terrorist, you saw his last victim's body, he's out for all your friends, he will eventually try to kill you. Stop it. You'll regret this later.   "Let me go…" Angela pleaded, arching back. " I won't run." She promised, giving in to what she wanted to do, not what she should do.   "Well… you're cornered anyway" he agreed. "Let's just get rid of this…" he added, unstrapping the blaster from her thigh and tossing away.   Finally, blood came back to her hands! Mercy rubbed them methodically, looking over her shoulder. Reaper leaned nonchalantly against a tree, arms crossed, head tilted to the side. Whatever would happen next - if she'd decide to run after all, or come to him - he'd be pleased.   She hadn't aged a day since he last saw her. How old was she now? Something around late thirties? Unbelievable, she looked like a twenty year old. But he wasn't surprised. If she could raise the dead, keeping herself from aging seemed trivial. As cliché as it sounded, she had the face of an angel and a body that could make anyone, man or woman, beg for sin.   Though she couldn't see his face, she knew it was him. She'd recognize that stance anywhere - relaxed on the surface, but ready to attack. Gott, even if he was fully clad, his build was alluring. Masculine, but somehow he could pull off that hourglass figure, especially the lower body - round hips and thighs so thick they could snap someone's neck effortlessly.   Losing all inhibitions, Mercy walked towards him. Her hands rested on his hips, while she peered up to see past the mask. But there as only blackness.   "Take it off. I want to see you." She asked, looking at where his lips should be.   "Haha… no."   "Then how do you expect this to work?"   "Well, first you're going to drop on your knees and suck me off. Then I'll ride you like you always loved it, remember? Rough and from behind."   Angela wanted to protest, but that would make her a hypocrite. Like a good girl, she did what she was told - got on her knees and proceeded to undo his pants.   Oh, they had sex before. Good old Gabe was a slut for everyone. Herself, McCree, Morrison… if Ana wasn't focused 100% on raising her daughter, she would probably come to daddy Reyes for some too. These were good, simpler times. When Overwatch was one big happy family… with some of the family members fucking like crazy every once in a while.   Finally, she found the zipper hidden under several belts. She undid it with her teeth - a small habit she picked up thanks of him. For a second she fondled with the leather, finally freeing his cock. Dear god…!   "Is there something wrong?" He mocked. "Not how you remembered it?"   No. Not how she remembered it. His skin had none of the familiar warm olive tone - he was pale, with a grey hue. Like a corpse. The veins were dark, almost black and awfully thick.   Before she could say anything, Reaper grabbed her by the halo and forcefully rammed his half-erect cock down her throat. Angela gagged, but endured. Holding on for support, she grabbed him behind the knees just above the boots. She felt no pulse under the popliteal artery. And he was cold, so cold in her mouth.   He had no vital signs, but that didn't keep him from viciously fucking her face, gradually growing thicker and harder. How could he do this despite no pulse?! Was this a matter of sheer willpower?   "Second thoughts?" He asked, pulling out to let her speak. The way she stiffened hadn't eluded him.   "No." She replied, swallowing hard.   "Good."   Gentler, almost tenderly, he slid back between her lips, warming up from her mouth's heat. Mercy took the lead, deep-throating him slowly. Despite all reason, she didn't care anymore. Her pussy was already dripping under the suit. She wanted him, even if it was just a shadow of Gabriel… For old times sake.   Angela had great technique. Not just the way she worked her tongue and lips, but also the subtle things she did. Soft sighs, holding on tightly to his legs while her chest grinded against him… And the way she looked - helpless but ready to please and hungry for more. And there was a lot more to come.   "Your turn." He decided, pulling her to lay next to him on the soft mossy ground.   "Not even a kiss?" She complained, reaching to jerk him off.   She was growing frustrated that she couldn't see his face and feel him use his mouth on her. He could do wonders with his tongue back in the day. She had fond memories of Gabriel making her cry and beg to let her come after long, exhausting sessions of oral play. He didn't need to lick her pussy to make her melt - his tongue in her mouth was enough to get her off.   "No." He replied drily, groping her crotch. "Hold still."   She bit her lip when the talons cut open the material covering her pussy. Her heart raced from anticipation.   "For better synchronization?" He guessed, looking down at the smoothly shaven skin. Tsk tsk, she was already overflowing.   "For myself."   "Fair enough." He agreed, encircling her clit with the cold steel tips, then heading lower.   "Wait! No, stop!" Mercy protested, realizing his intentions. Having those talons ruin her suit was one thing. But having them inside her was too much!   In response Reaper grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back.   "Don't make this difficult for yourself." He almost purred. "I'd hate to hurt you at this point."   The coldness slipped lower, then pushed inside - just one finger, but clad in thick leather, carbon fiber and steel. The sensation was electrifying - she felt the exact spot of the tip, but the pressure was gentle enough to tease, not cause harm. Meanwhile, his thumb pricked he clit. Mercy fidgeted a bit, but only for the dramatic effect. She was relaxed and eager enough for the talons to feel good.   "A bit to the left. Yes, right there…" She cooed, getting back to jerking him off. She was happy he didn't let go of her hair - she didn't want to embarrass herself by asking him to keep a firm hold of her.   Even through the gauntlet he could feel  her heat. Same for the slender hand that was stroking his cock. Angela was always so full of life and warmth. It'll be a shame when they meet next time and he has to put out that flame… He'll make it quick and painless. For old times sake.   He didn't want to wait anymore, he had to feel her from the inside. Mercy had no patience either - her clutch was painfully tight.   "I want you." She breathed, swallowing pride with strain. "I don't care how, just… Just now!"   "Bend over for me."   No matter how many times he witnessed that view - heart shaped ass and flushed pussy facing him - he had to take a moment to appreciate it. She had that effect on him, even after death. That second of awe, before retreating to a state of wild craze.   Reaper slammed his palms on her ass, then spread her cheeks. Mercy bit her lip when he tested her entrance. Less than an inch, but it almost made her collapse. Come on, she couldn't be readier! Spare her the dramatic pause!   "OH!" She screamed when the whole length and girth sunk inside her in one stroke. He was rock-hard and ice-cold. The engorged veins scrapped her walls, stretching her like no one had in a long time. Angela let out another pleased cry, pushing back against him, forcing Reaper to get a better grip on her lest she takes over the lead.   "You're hurting me…" She noted, feeling a sharp stinging sensation on her hips and thighs when he finally lost his cool and held her too rough, cutting into her flesh. "… But don't go easy on me!"   "Like that was ever an option."   Keeping the rapid pace he rested on her, pinning down with his weight. Mercy's hands clawed at the ground, his pressed hard against her lower abdomen, feeling the bulge his cock made from the hard thrusts. Her tight warmth pervaded into him, making him feel almost alive.   "Can you come inside? Please come inside me…!" Angela begged, her senses melting away. If he could get hard despite no pulse, then maybe…?   "Make me."   Suddenly, he disappeared in a burst of black only to reappear under her so that Mercy was straddling him. She picked up the pace, riding Reaper energetically. Pleased by her enthusiasm, he tugged at the edge of the cut on her chestpiece, tearing the material off and completely ruining her suit. She didn't care anymore, bouncing up and down on his rod, slamming her ass hard against his pelvis. So forcefully, that she definitely was hurting her cervix.   She was close, she always had that tell - biting on her curled index finger, like she was trying to keep herself from revealing a shameful secret.   "Don't be shy." He encouraged, flicking her nipple.   She dug her nails into his shoulders and arched her back, letting herself go, having a loud messy orgasm. Stronger, now that she had a familiar partner under her. Her pussy closed in on him hard, the hot wetness enveloping him… Death literally came a second later. Angela breathed loudly when his cum shot inside, filling her womb with thick coldness. Still craving, she rose then lowered herself harder, forcing it deeper. Then again, and again, until she got lightheaded and had to rest on his chest until she comes back to her senses.   The afterglow was fading. Mercy slowly realized she can't go back to the hotel looking like this - her suit ripped into shreds, cuts on her hips, thighs and ass, makeup ruined from giving a rough blowjob and come dripping out of her. Well, there was the dead merc in the observatory, his gear would do. The blaster and staff were somewhere nearby, her wings wouldn't be hard to find either. She could apply self-medication and get out of this without scars… Ok, she had a plan. But she still needed a few minutes to regain her strength.   But what about him? What will he do now? Are they just going to say goodbye and go on their separate ways? Or would he change his mind at the last moment…   "I always had a soft spot for you doc." He confessed stroking her twitching back, lazily moving his hips. "I'll come for you last."   Too bad he had to leave her now. He was just getting comfortable. But he had things to do. People to kill. She wasn't getting off him, though. Of course. She won't just let it go…   "I can't let you leave without seeing your face." She said looking up, her eyes had that familiar fire.   "Of course you can't." He sighed. "Fine." He agreed before she could plea again. Let her have it! "Go ahead. Indulge"   Mercy's hands trembled when she reached to slip her fingers under the mask. She lifted it up effortlessly - it wasn't fastened by any means. Another mystery of how he functioned.   Though she knew he wouldn't look the same as she remembered him, she let out a gasp finally seeing her handiwork. His face was human, but it was not of a living person's. The skin of his face was also pale, ghastly grey with black protruding veins.   But it was the eyes that made Mercy realize she created a monster.   He smiled, seeing her this shocked, uncovering his sharp teeth. Black vapor escaped the corners of his mouth.   "Don't forget. You're responsible for this." He murmured sweetly, sitting up and cradling the back of her head so she could get a closer, more personal look.   She opened her mouth to say something, but he would have none of it. He pulled Mercy closer, embracing tightly, like death itself. His tongue - too long and agile to be normal - slipped in her mouth, muffling a shriek. He kissed her deeply, if the way his tongue coiled around hers could be called a kiss. Her eyes were wide open, locked with his the whole time.   She tossed, fighting to escape his grasp, giving Reaper a dark sense of satisfaction. Yes, dear doctor, this is how your good intentions turned out. His hunger for confrontation was finally sated. He had his fun. He'll cherish this night. The shocked, defiant, lustful and eventually terrified looks on her face will keep him going for a long, long time.   Reluctantly, he broke their morbid kiss to have a final look at her. Angela was speechless, her lower lip trembled. But to Reaper's demise fear passed, washed over by… sympathy. Her eyes filled with tears as she reached to touch his cheek.   "Gabriel, I'm so…" Seeing her soften and her voice tear up set him into another fit. His eyes sparked menacingly. But he didn't strike. Before she could finish whatever sentimental nonsense she had to say, he disappeared in another burst of blackness, this time for good. The wind carried his angry howl into the night.   The only thing he left behind was the mask on Mercy's lap.   "… sorry."

Chapter 5 - CH5

“Excuse me?” Hawke couldn’t believe what she just heard. “Could you repeat that?” She asked, scratching her faithful hound behind the ear.   “The Anders Spicy Shimmy.” Nathaniel stifled a laugh. “We once got abominably drunk in the Keep and he showed me how to dance it. I could never look at a feathered boa the same way.”   “I almost wish he’d still fancy a drink…” The heroine sighed heavily before realizing the conversation was stirring dangerously close to Anders’ less pleasant half. Nathaniel knew both the mage and spirit before their union. He had questions, with no doubt. But Hawke had no intention of answering them.   “Mistress”, Orana shyly knocked on the library door where Bonnie was entertaining her guest, “the Magist… mag…” She swallowed loudly, after three years she still had difficulty letting go of the mannerisms she grew up with in Tevinter. “The… master is home.” She finally uttered, hoping she wasn’t embarrassing the mistress in front of her guest.   “And just in time for dinner!” The Champion got up from her seat, almost knocking over her glass. “We’ll be right back!” She smiled at Nathaniel, barely able to cover her excitement. She ran out of the room, accompanied by loudly barking Dandy.   The Howe shook his head making himself more comfortable in the chair. This was going to be a crazy night, serah Hawke couldn’t be no ordinary woman. After all, no sane person would ever live with Anders.   They hadn’t had time to talk in the Deep Roads, just a few quick words, a nod here a wink there, but no deeper conversation. Nathaniel was barely able to make sure of one thing; that Anders hadn’t blamed him for what happened with the Wardens after the Commander’s sudden disappearance.   <i>“It’s not right.” Nathaniel said under his breath, staring at the cobwebs painting delicate ornaments on the keep’s stables ceiling.   “It’s a little too late to have a morality check, don’t you think?” Anders yawned, resting next to the rogue on the itchy hay pile. “Is this where you accuse me of using Blood Magic to seduce you?” He played dumb.   “Cut the act, you know I mean Rolan ferreting his way into the Wardens. It’s not right. And it’s no secret why he’s here.”   “Jealous of the eyes he keeps making at me?” The mage winked, apparently pleased of all the attention he was receiving.   “You can never be serious, can you?” Nathaniel frowned, amazed how hard the healer tried to dismiss his problems with witty remarks.   “Not unless you want me to howl at the moon and tear my hair out. And I like my hair.” To accent his words, the apostate ran his fingers through his tangled golden strands.   “Anders…” Nathaniel sighed. He lost track of how many times he’d done that around the other Warden. One might say it became a habit.   The mage was a tease. Ever since they met he kept poking Nathaniel for reactions. It was evident to the archer that Anders wanted the Howe to either back off and treat him as a harmless nuisance, or respond more favorably. Either way, the mage was happy.   “You don’t always wear robes do you?” Nathaniel was foolish to ask once.   “Not when I’m naked I don’t.” Anders struck without warning, the sly smirk on his face passed as quick as it occurred.   Inability to keep a straight face didn’t fool the rogue, Nate knew well there were heaps of messed up behind that laid-back façade. But that wasn’t any of his business. However, one evening he had it with the apostate’s antics. During supper in the Wardens dining area Anders asked something about the truth behind the saying how rogues liked to ‘do it from behind’. The Howe said nothing, but when Anders went to his room to call it a night, the was waiting for him. He showed the mage just how fatal a surprise attack from behind can be.   Ever since, they kept it professional and casual with a clear line and rules. They were part of the Warden-Commander’s team, but when off duty they humped like nugs. And to be honest, their frank, not so gentle affair was a wonderful, wild, exhausting distraction.   “Oh, lighten up you blighted grump…” The healer muttered, annoyance creeping into his tone. “It’s only a matter of time before they make a move on me, I know that. I’ve been down that road before. But fear not, I’ll go face destiny with my head held high.” He sat up, straws sticking to his bare back, still hot and sweaty from their recent tumble. “And I don’t expect you to do anything, just don’t get in the crossfire. Ooh… Are you going to swear to protect me to the death?” He asked when Nathaniel sat up as well, his lips firmly pressed together.   “You’re one of us.” The Howe accented. “We’re all misfits here, Anders. You belong with us.”   “Tell that to the Chantry. Who knows, maybe some revered mother might shed a tear if you make it dramatic enough?”   “You’re impossible to talk to.”   “I do my best.” Anders purred, pulling Nathaniel for a kiss. “Now stop spoiling the mood and let me climb on top of you.”   “What makes you think I’ll let you?” The archer asked, crinkling his nose – the sign of a true Howe.   “Because I know what I’m doing? And you already rode the Anders pony tonight, so it’s my turn for balance?”   Nathaniel rolled his eyes, but  flipped over nonetheless, relaxing and letting the mage do his thing. Maker, how he babbled, he couldn’t make room for much silence, even when having sex. Though, his chatter could be sexy at times… when he wasn’t a jackass.   “You’re tense. Should I take that as a compliment to my size?” Anders teased when his hardened erection bumped against his partner’s inner thigh. “Oh, I’ll go easy on you, I promise…”   “I won’t forget this.” The archer warned, his face pillowed on his crossed arms.   “No, you won’t…” The healer promised sweetly, fondling his perfectly sculpted ass. </i>   The following week Nathaniel along with Oghren and Sigrun were summoned to perform a mission for the order in a remote part of Ferelden, way to the east. It was a trifle task, so easy that it gave him suspicions. Those suspicions were confirmed upon their return when they learned of what transpired while they were away; Anders joined with Justice, killed Rolan along with a squad of templars then escaped to Maker knows where. The Howe had cold confirmation their mission was a ruse so they wouldn’t interfere while the templar order executes their plan.   It’s been over seven years. And it was hard to see that cheeky bastard in the haggard, tormented man Nate saw in the Deep Roads. A man with less weight and hair, but with more wrinkles. His flashy robes traded for a patchwork coat with feathers not soft and glistening but rustling and ominously sharp. The ridiculous earring was gone, he even healed the hole as if erasing his former self from memory. The old Anders was gone. Nathaniel wondered how much was it due to Justice.   “Messere?” The elf maid appeared in the library like a ghost; quietly and out of nowhere. “The master will see to you shortly. He asks that you make yourself comfortable .” She announced, this time she didn’t shutter.   ---   With each step Hawke felt excitement fleeing. There was no guarantee Anders would be in the mood for any action. She had no doubts about his degree of perversion, he surely would not object or feel threatened by a threesome with the Howe. But if he’ll have one of his bad spells there was no hope in coaxing him into a night of depraved fun.   And given the situation in Kirkwall, it was very likely he’ll be broken down by one injustice or another.   ---   Their cause was nearly lost. Meredith made sure of it. As hard as he tried, whatever means he utilized… There was no hope for a peaceful solution.   Justice was restless, disappointed in him. It was time for action, not pleas. No more guerilla style run ins with the templars. No more manifesto writing. No more diplomacy. No more half measures.   Anders agreed. He had to make a final stand for his fellow mages. He had to shake the very foundations of the unjust world they lived in. He had to end this impasse, so that no one could claim neutrality anymore.   Soon. Very soon. But first he had to perfect his plan, so that there would be no more collateral damage than necessary. He needed to do some more research before… Before he asks for Hawke’s aid. He hated himself for what he must do, but she was the only able person he could trust…   But that was not until some preparations were made, which left him with a few more weeks of precious time with her. A few more moments to cherish… until he breaks her heart.   He locked, then turned away from the backdoor of the estate. He rarely used the front door, even after they lived openly together he didn’t like to be in plain sight. Dandy was already here, pouncing around him and demanding some affection. Reluctantly, Anders patted the massive dog, then scratched the mabari’s chin. Dandy wasn’t a cat, yet he still liked that type of caress.   “Heyyy!” Bon greeted, stepping into the warm light of the kitchen. She then nearly crushed him in a tight embrace, but he didn’t mind. He loved her raw, honest affection.   He returned the embrace, then kissed her, hoping to channel all his longing and adoration. How he wished he didn’t  have to do what must be done… No. Not now, this was their time and it was fleeting.   “How was your day?” She asked cautiously, seating him at the simple, yet solid table.   “I’m not getting many cases lately.” He replied, putting his staff away and relaxing, finally feeling at home after a day in Darktown.   “So, you were at your clinic?” She guessed, heating up a simple, rustic supper.   Neither of them liked to eat fancy and with much ado, so they dined in the kitchen, much to Orana’s horror. The posh dining room, though roomy, stood empty most of the time, unless the whole gang came for games and drink. Isabela even marked her spot by carving an assortment of penises under her side of the table.   “Duty hours.” He smirked, taking his mantle off. “Just to make sure there’s no epidemic in the making.”   He ate, savoring this quiet moment. He was home, safe and at peace… for tonight. But Hawke was here, that was all that mattered. Maker, she was a blessing.   “Love…” Bonnie made conversation. “I’d hate to rush, but we’re having some company over…”   Blast it! He was counting on a peaceful, quiet evening, just the two of them.   “Diamondback again? Or Wicked Grace?” He sighed, swallowing his food. “No matter, I’m going to lose anyway.”   “No, it’s not our usual friends coming for cards. Our guest is in the library. You wouldn’t believe, but I was in the Hanged Man and I bumped into your old comrade…” She babbled hoping to find a smart way to tell him just who…   “Nate Howe.” He guessed without a second thought.   “Are you angry?” She asked, alarmed by the sudden change in his face. He was alert, focused.   “More surprised.” He explained, putting his dish away. “You want a threesome, then?”   “I…” She was amazed by how clearly he read her intentions and yet thankful she needn’t have to explain them. “That was my intention, messere Howe knew that well when he accepted my invitation. But not unless you want to. If you’re not in the mood or don’t think this is a good idea we’ll just have a guest over.”    She could still surprise him. Maybe if the circumstances were different, maybe if he hadn’t had to… No. He wanted this. He needed this. They both did. A good memory, a night of debauched pleasures to forget of what was inevitably going to happen. Some crazy fun to make things bearable again.   And shoving Justice’s self-righteous roar of protest aside, he’d love to have those two in bed. Dear Maker, Nathaniel and Bonnie… Tonight he was going to give and take like there was no tomorrow. He earned to be a bit selfish.   “Sweetheart…” He took her hand into his and smiled like a brat up to no good. Hawke had no idea, but in that smile she could see a shadow of Anders’ former self; playful, reckless and passionate beyond reason. “You are a true gem.” He purred sweetly, pressing his lips to her hand.   “I take it you’re enjoying your surprise?”   “Well, I haven’t opened it yet, now have I? Tell you what, I’ll go wash Darktown off me and get prepared, then see our guest for a short chit chat, we have some catching up to do. In the meantime, why don’t you go to the bedroom and make yourself ready for us, hm?”   “What do you want me to wear?” She asked playfully, relaxing when the tension of uncertainty passed.   “Something that will make Nathaniel’s jaw fall into the Deep Roads.” His smile widened.   ---   “Years fly by and you still haven’t shaven those pubes off your chin.” The mage said as a greeting, stepping into the study. He wore simple comfortable home attire, much resembling the Hostess’ indoor outfit. His hair was loose, still wet from his bath.   “And I see you finally took my advice and got rid of that ridiculous earring of yours.” Nathaniel riposted, getting up to welcome him properly.   They stood about awkwardly unsure how to do this after what transpired with the Wardens. A handshake? A hug?   “Is this how you would picture our reunion?” Anders jested, hoping to dispel the heavy atmosphere with a weak attempt at making Nathaniel blush.   “A spontaneous ménage-au-trois with Kirkwall’s Champion and the city’s most infamous apostate? Not even in my wildest dreams.” The archer replied truthfully.   “So, you heard stories of me?” Anders hoped to disguise alarm as pride in his notoriety. He didn’t want Nathaniel to dig deeper. He didn’t want his old comrade to remember him as anyone else than a cheery scamp with bad pick up lines.   “Some facts hidden under layers of rumors.” The Howe admitted. “Something about healing Ferelden refugees for free, and that one bit about being a thorn in the templars’ side. Though that last one is nothing new.”   “What can I say. It seems I’m an idealist after all.” The healer sunk into his old habit of concealing anything deeper about himself with nonchalant charm.   “How are you two getting along?” Nathaniel finally asked the dreaded question.   “Good.” The mage confessed. “She’s the one bright light shining in my life.”   They both knew the Howe hadn’t meant Anders and Hawke, but prying and demanding answers would only end ugly. There was no point in ruining their friendship, more so since they subconsciously knew this was a brief moment of reminiscence before they depart again. This time for good.   “She’s…”   “Too good for me. I know, beat you to it.”   “… Tall.” The rogue finished the thought with a frown. Talking with that mage was still a pain. And it seems he still hadn’t given up the straw man rhetoric.   “Yes, that too.” Anders agreed. “And I want her to be enjoying herself tonight, so a fair warning… If you’ll do something to upset her…”   “I am always respectful and considerate of my bedmates, Anders. Even you. I should take offense in you threatening me like that.”   “Oh, no, Nate. I’m not threatening you. I’m just giving you a fair warning, that if you’ll do something to upset her… and by that I mean mistreating me, she won’t think twice about setting you straight. My Bonnie’s a bit overprotective, you see.” A warm smile crept on his face, making the mage look a bit less troubled and weary.   “Should we keep the lady waiting?” The Howe asked, gesturing at the door.

Chapter 4 - CH4

“Hightown hasn’t changed much.” The archer noted once they made their way from Lowtown.   “Consider the templars as elements of décor and Hightown changed tenfold since your last visit, messere Howe.” Bonnie contradicted, steadying herself from making further comments.   “My sympathies.” The Howe said sincerely. He needn’t elaborate.   Hawke nodded, blessing the Warden’s tact. Almost home, she hoped reality will meet with her imagination about Nathaniel’s frame; he was a fine archer and seasoned rogue. Not that mages hadn’t their appeal, but she missed having someone more physically adept.   Speaking of archers of noble birth, they bumped into one. Sebastian.   “Hawke!” He greeted, instinctively turning his eyes away.   “Sebastian… nice to see you.” The Champion smiled insincerely, feeling her guts twist. She tried, Maker she tried, bus she could never bring herself to like Sebastian.   “Yes, you too… Is that a Howe crest?” The Chantry brother asked, noticing a bear – the Howe’s animal – on Nathaniel’s bow, just above the shoulder.   “Don’t you DARE cockblock me Sebastian. If you do I SWEAR to the damned Maker I’ll…!” Raced through Bonnie’s head, but she couldn’t just dismiss him, not with Nathaniel in tow. That would be impolite, and she wasn’t an animal.   “Yes.” The Warned stated truthfully, expecting some sort of backhanded compliment directed at his family. “And… That’s the crest of Starkhaven.” He identified the symbol on Sebastian’s bow.   “NO!” Bonnie screamed internally.   Two noble-born rogue archers carrying weapons that were long enough in the family to have lengthy and boring histories. This was a recipe for a swift end to her plans. Maker, if they start talking now, she won’t be able to get Nathaniel home before Anders returns! Even though the Howe was almost certain to be interested in a night of debauchery, he couldn’t decline a short polite exchange with the exiled prince of Starkhaven. She had to act fast and blunt.   She stared straight at Sebastian’s face, focusing all her will to get his attention. And when Sebastian’s unnaturally aqua eyes caught a glimpse of her face, she gave him a slow wink, the tip of her tongue stuck out and licked the middle of her upper lip, then quickly slid back into her mouth.   That was enough to have the pious brother freeze mid-sentence. He blushed all the way down to his furry collar (possibly all the way to his navel). Yes, he remembered that expression well, from when…   Hawke stopped visiting the Chantry after her mother’s death. And ever since that… apostate somehow tricked her into taking him into her home, she became more vocal about some issues that disturbed Sebastian. As her friend, he needed to share his concerns with her.   After seeing to his duties at the Chantry, he switched his lay brother’s robe for his armor and left the temple’s serene refuge. Hawke’s quiet elven servant allowed him into the estate’s inner courtyard. The hostess was leaning out of the first floor window, relaxing in the afternoon sun, her elbows resting on the windowsill. She was smiling absentminded, catching the last rays of sunshine, rocking back and forth, the heavy curtain hiding her from waist down.   “Sebastian!” She greeted, transfixed for a second. “Something I can help you with? Anyone else needing retribution for your family?” She asked, then coughed nervously, apparently realizing the joke could be taken the wrong way.   “Actually, I came here for you.” Sebastian rubbed the back of his head, unsure should he join her inside or wait for her to come out. Hawke had no apparent intention of moving, her nails practically digging into the windowsill. He decided to remain as well.   “Oh!” She gasped loudly. “I’m all ears.” She encouraged, tilting her head.   “I… Well… It’s not my business, but…” Sebastian minced his words like a lad. “But as your friend I think I should share my doubts with you.”   “Mhmmmm…” She sighed, closing her eyes.   “About Anders.” He probed, looking up to meet her expression.   She was silent, the rocking stopped, the look on her face part absent part relaxed. She exhaled loudly, but hadn’t told him to leave.   “Go on…” Was all she said.   “I… It’s not my position to judge, but I would be cautious around him were I in your position. He’s a dangerous man. And selfish. Whatever he said, whatever he promised to have you accept him… Don’t ever think he’ll put you above his own needs.” Sebastian warned, hoping to talk some sense into her.   Hawke was speechless, the rogue was certain that for a split second she considered leaping through the window and demonstrating just how badly his words cut her. But the violent spark passed as sudden as it appeared, leaving Hawke smiling maliciously… and lustfully. She gave him a slow wink, the tip of her tongue stuck out and licked the middle of her upper lip, then quickly slid back into her mouth.   The next second the curtains were pushed aside, revealing no one else but Anders… exposed from waist down… just like Hawke bending over before him..   “Well, I don’t know about you, but from my experience,” Bonnie paused to groan, when the mage’s nails dug into her ass, his pelvis trusting enthusiastically, “he can be very giving.”   “And as kept man I tend to my duties very seriously Sebastian, I can assure you.” Anders accented, giving Hawke a swat on the butt.   The chantry brother turned on his heel and galloped out of the courtyard in embarrassment and defeat.   “And he was never heard from again.” Bonnie quipped, grinding against her lover. “What?” She asked, sensing a change in Anders. “Hey, don’t tell me he got to you.” She said concerned, turning over to sit on the windowsill and pull him close… and deep.   “I wished I had no loyalties greater than you…” He sighed, his voice already sulking. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, but…”   “You know, you have the annoying habit of telling me things I already know.” Her brows crossed, she took him gently by the chin so their eyes would meet.   It was moments like these she hated the world they had to live in. And how that world affected him. But he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t bash his head against the walls of tyranny, however pointless and hopeless his struggle would seem. And he’d never give up, ever. She loved that about him.   But one of the things she hated, but accepted about Anders were his rapid mood swings. Sex was no good at this point, he was already soft and disinterested, slowly slipping into self-loathe. Hawke knew he was dancing on a thin line between complete apathy and crushing guilt over coming into her life with all his burdens.   “I adore you.” She said softly, helplessly rubbing her pussy against his flaccid cock. “I know your devotion is true, my love. I know how much you’d want us to be just ‘us’. But we both know that’s impossible, so let’s make the best of what we have.” She softly said before kissing his cheek.   “I’m sorry.” He apologized for the hundredth time ever since moving in. “I’m so grateful for your understanding, just… I wish I could do more for you.”   “Well, now that you mentioned it… I had this harness on my eye… Yes, by the look on your face I can see you know what type of harness I’m talking about. How about I get it and we can try it out soon?”   “Love, I’m yours for the taking.”   “I’ll pound you sooo hard…” She promised, nuzzling against the side of his neck.   “Promises, promises…” Anders huffed, regaining some of his good mood… and initiative.   “Sebastian?” The heroine asked, perfectly faking to be oblivious as to why he was sweating and barely able to breathe. “Are you alright?”   “I need to pray. A lot.” He managed to shutter before galloping back to the Chantry.   “Was there something I said?” Nathaniel raised his brow unsure of what he just witnessed.   “He’s a brother, messere Howe. He must have missed his daily portion of the Chant. Such a devoted man… He takes his prayers very serious.”   ---   Nathaniel came from one of the oldest noble families in Ferelden, and as such, he immediately sensed that the Hawke Estate belonged to a person with noble blood, not some ambitious upstart. The place was elegant, and yet simple, not overly stuffed with expensive baubles. The furnishing and decorations belonged to the family, they had history and were meant to express pride in one’s ancestry, not impress guests with how much they cost.   “This is your father, no doubt?” He assumed, seeing the portrait of a dark-haired man with windswept hair and a roguish beard.   “The one and only Hawke. I’m just a cheap knockoff in comparison.” Bonnie joked, giving the portrait a warm, loving look. “When my family fled the Blight, we took only a handful of mementos. My mother had an small coal portrait of father drawn by a travelling artist. Not the most faithful one, but she was attached to it. This masterpiece I commissioned for their wedding anniversary… It took months to finally get the painter produce a faithful portrait from my memory.” Bonnie babbled, kneeling to take the collar off Dandy. “I’m sure you’d like to freshen up? I’ll have my girl Orana draw you a bath.”   “I wouldn’t say no to that.”   “Wonderful! Orana!!!” She suddenly turned and yelled in a voice so loud it could rally troops. “We’re having a guest over! Draw him a bath, then prepare the guest room!”   They both knew the guest room wouldn’t be needed, but they were polite people. Or at least they posed as such.

Chapter 8 - CH7

With Hawke out of the way, blissfully resting on her side, the two Wardens could finally focus on each other without interruptions. Anders wanted to be spoiled and have all the attention focusing on himself. He laid on his back, open and inviting. Nathaniel raised his brow but obliged, running his fingers down the mage’s chest. Anders sighed, relaxing and awaiting further caress.   He whimpered when Nate smothered him, biting into his neck. His hands trailed down the archer’s sides all the way to his firm ass.   “Maker…” Anders sighed when the rogues cock, still wet from Hawke, rubbed against his abdomen. “Oww… this is going to be fun to explain in my clinic…” He quipped after another nip on the neck.   “Stop talking, you’re always talking.” Howe could pretend to be annoyed, but he was relieved to see old chatty Anders.   The mage puckered his lips and blew him a kiss. He was sinking in the mood, fully hard and ready to be toyed with, teased and pampered. The spoiled, demanding bottom. Nate missed him.   Anders pulled him for a kiss, like a brat reaching for a favorite sweetmeat. They were both too aroused for long, soft foreplay, but couldn’t say no to a bit of intimacy. The mage snickered when Nate gently stroked his cheek between gasps and moans.   “Why so tender all of a sudden? You getting soft on me?” He asked with a hint of smug satisfaction.   “Rather have you mewling than whining.” Howe retorted. The mage was unbearable, as always.   Anders had pink blush on his cheeks and the length of his nose. His lips were of pale pink as well, which intensified when he was being kissed. Same was for his nipples. And, of course, the tip of his cock. But for the moment, the rogue focused on the healer’s chest which had a slight dusting of golden blond hairs. The soft, straight hairs tickled a bit when Nathaniel teased the pink pebbles of his nipples. Anders gasped and snorted, fighting laughter. He was as much sensitive as he was ticklish in that area.   Howe shot him an amused look and kept going, pinning him down by the shoulders, since Anders could get squirmy when he was horny and impatient. And as much as Nate wanted to finally grab him by the ankles and raise them high, he wanted the spoiled mage to endure a bit longer. He’ll eventually beg for him to stop.   <i>“Come on, lower, lower! Ugh, you bastard, keeping me all strung up like this… Come on!”</i>Went through the healer’s head after another minute of Nathaniel’s lips and hands not going lower down his body. His cock couldn’t get any harder than this, he could feel precome leaking from the tip.   “Maker just fuck me already!” He said out loud.   “I’ll decide when and how I’ll do that.” Nathaniel rebutted, adamant against the outburst. “Now, spread your legs a bit.” He instructed, finally shifting lower and grabbing the mage’s swollen erection.   He knew Anders would buck and toss, so he instantly went down on him. His mouth was filled with the taste of precome and sweat when his tongue brushed against the tip. Anders gasped and tensed, grasping handfuls of Howe hair. With a deep moan, he relaxed muttering praises of his former comrade’s technique and skill. Having a man suck him off wasn’t that different from having a woman do it, but there were subtle differences. The thickness of the lips, the roughness of the tongue, and the feeling of hands caressing his inner thighs and squeezing his balls.   Hawke smirked watching the display. Anders was seldom this impatient and demanding, mostly choosing to stretch the moment for as long as possible. Then again, he and Nathaniel hadn’t seen or fucked each other in years, he was excused to be a spoiled little bottom.   Messere Howe was a natural; even though he was sucking the mage off, he was the one in control. He commanded the pace and events, he decided how much Anders would be enjoying himself. And all that with next to no physical or verbal enforcement. Still, Anders didn’t seem intimidated or meek in his submission. He loved it.   “I’d need some salve, serah.” The rogue addressed her after nearly gagging on healer cock, gently squeezing the base in response to Anders’ muttering something under his breath.   Bonnie reached to the nightstand and handed the archer a small bottle of clear ointment they used when participating in anal play. Nathaniel uncorked the bottle, pouring a bit onto his fingertips. Without further ado, he reached down under Anders, the mage bent and spread his legs biting his lip.   “Mmm, that’s nice…” Escaped Anders’ lips when after a moment of soft stroking, Nate’s fingers gently entered him, passing the tight ring of resistance.   “Serah, could you get behind him and keep him in place. You know well he’s the fidgety type.   “My pleasure.” Was the Champion’s answer.   Anders couldn’t be happier; Bonnie behind him, her chest cushioning his head, her abdomen and parted legs supporting his back. And Nathaniel fingering his ass, getting it ready for some good pounding. What was it he called him? Fidgety? Nonsense, he was just very responsive to…   “Ah, ooh…!” He moaned when Howe bend his fingers, finding the prostate. “Yes, just like that…” He begged, melting. Bonnie’s embrace around his wais tightened precociously.   Nathaniel saw no point in delaying the best part. He pulled out, greased his palm generously and fisted his own cock, coating it with the ointment. He positioned himself between the mage’s thighs, the tip of his cock gently testing how ready was Anders. The healer whimpered impatiently, but Bonnie held him by the wrists.   Inch by inch, Nathaniel entered, stretching and filling Anders with his length. Dear maker, the mage was hot inside. He didn’t care anymore; he filled him to the base, then thrusted rapidly, ripping a cry of joy from the bottom. Anders arched his back, his ass pushing forward to take more. He felt Bonnie behind him tense, obviously concerned whether he felt pain. Maker bless her heart, but he couldn’t be having more fun. He missed cock.   Hawke let her hands wander, caressing her lover’s chest and abdomen, barely skimming the trail of hairs heading to his leaking cock. This experience was too precious to end this quickly. Anders breathed loudly, his teeth biting down on his lip. He had to do something with his hands, clenching and unclenching in spasms. Nate grinned when the mage’s nails sunk in his laps, leaving crescent marks. The bottom liked to boldly demonstrate just how much he loved to be taken.   “Going soft?” Anders breathed, daring for more, demanding more. Harder, faster. It’s been years, give it to me!   “Inside you.” Howe responded, his eyes narrowed. “I’m going to come inside you.” He promised sweetly. “And serah Hawke is going to help you come all over yourself.”   She needn’t be told that twice; she grabbed Anders’ shaft and jerk hard, nearly painful. Anders clenched his abdomen, overwhelmed with sensations. Nathaniel forcefully grabbed his hips and pushed further, until he couldn’t stretch the mage any more. The healer needn’t much more to ejaculate in Bonnie’s hand and over his belly, his cry loud and ecstatic. He twitched, cursed, thanked the Maker and lost all his energy, ending up in a mess; the way he liked it most.   Howe felt a touch of perverse nostalgia at the sight of the debauched mage, shamelessly displayed and covered in come. To make the familiar picture complete, he went faster in the numbing, but still twitching ass, following soon. Me murmured, relaxing and letting his body follow its natural instincts; filling Anders up and good.   The mage was barely there, picking himself up from the haze of a long-missed type of fuck. He was sweaty, sticky, covered with his own semen and Nate’s gushing from inside him. Maker… thank you.   Howe ran his hand down Ander’s glistening abdomen and have him to lick clean. Dirty mage. Dirty, beautiful, magnificent bastard.   Hawke just stared, growing dry in the mouth and wet in the pussy. Maybe…? Her heart stopped at the sight of Nathaniel pulling out, freeing a spurt of semen from her lover’s ass. Howe took his and Ander’s dicks in his palms, massaging the softening shafts.   “You are depraved beyond measure.” He whispered to the healer. Or perhaps the memory of what the mage used to be before. <i>“Maker help me, I love that about you.”</i> He added in his thoughts.   “I live to please.” Anders quipped, the old him still somewhere inside. “My turn next.”   “You don’t even have the strength to clean yourself up.” The archer pointed out.   “In the morning.” Anders swore. “I’m not letting you leave Kirkwall without being under me… Bon?” He realized his usually chatty partner was unusually quiet. “You okay?”   “I…” She was at a loss of words and possible forgot how to breathe. “That… Can we keep him?” She looked up at Nathaniel with hope. “Please?”   “I am honestly tempted, serah.” Nate pondered, resting next to them, brushing his dark hair back.   “Rather than living here with us in sin and depravity you’d prefer fighting darkspawn in the Deep Roads until you die? You have peculiar tastes, Nathaniel.” Anders joked, taking the small cloth his darling handled him to clean himself.   Bonnie got them all a decent drink and after everyone wiped themselves clean and dry they rested on the bed with Anders in the middle. This was a night to cherish and remember in the upcoming dark times.   The mage greedily pulled both his lovers closer. “Mine!” He muttered, feeling their warmth and scent. The two looked at each other over him with a knowing smile. He was grabby and needy, but could also surprise you with his generosity in bed.   “Pancakes and bacon in the morning, yes?” Bonnie guessed, hissing his forehead.   “Mhmmm…” Anders purred, sinking in the mattress, halfway to dreamland.   Howe himself felt sleep creeping up on him, it’s been a long day. He suspected the next would be even longer and intense, so he had to prepare. Pancakes and bacon? Sigh him up! Wait a minute…   “Anders…!” He sat up, suddenly realizing something. “Did I have sex with Justice as well??”   “He says hi.” The mage replied sweetly, faster than Hawke could protest.

Chapter 1 - Start Me Up

He ought to pay the gas bill, his apartment was so cold he could see his own breath. Rent wasn’t due in another week, so if he balances his finances and decides to skip eating for one day, he might just make ends meet this month.   The landlady was a bitch, but she could be placated with a few fake prescriptions, which Anders always had in case of emergency. Just one of the perks of being an EMT, knowing how the locks in the hospital worked and whose signature was the easiest to forge.   A year ago he would have never guessed he’d land himself a real job and apartment, even if he barely scraped by. He even had a car; a rusty abomination, but still it was his own set of wheels. Life was funny that way.   Life was also unfair as fuck, but that was nothing new to him. He’d seen how the fortunate and ignorant took their blessings for granted, while the poor and unprivileged had to struggle for everything they owned. From food to simple health care. And somehow that was accepted as normal. ‘Just how the world is, Anders, lighten up.’   Bullshit.   He tucked his chin under the collar of his hoodie and continued pouring his stream of thought onto the keyboard. His laptop was the only non-essential thing he owned, solely for the purpose of blogging. It didn’t matter whether his social justice blog had that many followers. He vented his frustrations and formulated his opinions, frustrations always predominating over the opinions.   “Fuuuck… I forgot to pick up my laundry.” He just realized, glancing at the clock. It was just after 10 PM, but he called it a day. He was far too comfortable on his run-down couch, wrapped in his baggy hoodie and sweatpants, in addition to being buried under two blankets.   Tomorrow was Tuesday, his day off. The laundry will be future Anders’ problem. He had no intention moving from this very spot, straight into the cold that awaited him outside his comfortable cocoon. Winter in Kirkwall was a real pain.   His phone rang, the ringtone he had assigned to that specific contact made him jerk awkwardly. Cristal Castles – Not in Love. Ironic, considering his feelings about that person.   Hawke.   “Yes?” He answered after taking a moment to swallow, so that his voice wouldn’t sound too raspy.   “Anders?” The voice was faint, almost apologetic. “I’m not interrupting anything?”   “No.” He already felt growing alarm.   She was crying, or was just about to. But she tried to stay calm until she knew whether or not he had time for her. She was always this considerate of people, some took it for shyness, but that was bullshit. Hawke was a people person, she hung out with him, after all.   “I know it’s late and snowing…” She paused and coughed, it sounded like a choked yelp.   “Molly, what’s going on?” He kept his voice calm, like when he was dealing with people in shock from trauma. He couldn’t pull her tongue, she needed to tell him herself. He already put his laptop aside, ready to drive straight to her.   “I… Uhh…” Hawke took a moment to collect herself. “Isabela took all her things and moved out.”   Anders exhaled through puckered lips. This was typical of Hawke, she didn’t say ‘Isabela left me’, she simply reported what had just happened - ‘Isabela packed up and left’. The reason and conclusion were obvious, but she only stated facts, cutting out the emotional clusterfuck.   “Moll…?” He asked, after the silence lasted for far too long. He couldn’t hear any sobbing or whimpering, Hawke was an emotional person, but could get a grip of herself when she had to.   “Can I come over?” She asked quietly, it was painfully obvious she needed company, but didn’t want to impose herself. Always tactful.   “No, stay where you are. You’re home, right?” He made sure, struggling out of the blankets.   “Yes, I didn’t want to leave before calling you.” Molly explained with a choked sigh.   “You want me to get you anything on my way?” He asked, changing into more civil pants, squashing his phone between his cheek and shoulder.   “Nothing comes to my mind. Just drive safely.”   “I’m on my way.” He said, hanging up.

Chapter 2 - Down the Road

He saw that one coming, but hadn’t realized how relieved he would be when it finally happens. Bustling around the room, he grabbed his boots and wallet. Hawke needed him. Hawke was single, emotionally vulnerable and needed him.   He halted when he found his keys on the kitchen counter. He had a crush on Molly for over four years now, but no one knew. He couldn’t screw this up. This friendship was too important for him to ruin.   They met when they were both in pretty messed-up points in their lives. Anders had just lost his closest friend; Karl Thekla, a man who was his roommate and soulmate for the entire duration of college. It was Karl who helped him turn his life around, get a scholarship and finally put his talent into good use.   Karl was also struggling with depression. Anders could relate, though their relationship was surprisingly healthy and supportive. Karl started to rely on heavy medication, which turned him into a freaking zombie. No emotion, no reaction. He carried out with his responsibilities and work as usual, but it was merely obligation.   Anders begged him to stop taking the blasted pills, devoting all his time and energy to care after him. Karl agreed after much hesitation. Time passed, things started looking up for them. Karl was less dopey, it seemed he found peace.   And then Anders found him hanging from the ceiling on a frayed piece of rope.   He was dwelling on the past too much, he had to give her a shoulder to cry on. Then he’ll have a morality crisis whether or not to come clean with his own feelings. He practically ran down the stairs, kicked open the door and galloped across the street to the parking lot.   “Come on, you…” Anders muttered, fighting the car door. Thankfully, it hadn’t frozen like he feared. With a cry of joy he got in and started the engine.   The ride was a torture, the radio could only catch the frequency of some smooth jazz station. He hated smooth jazz.   “Great, my car sounds like a low-budget porno.” He groaned, halting before the stop sign.   It was Hawke who found him, alarmed by the ungodly scream he made, and called 911. She took him by the hand and walked out of the apartment. They waited for the ambulance on his doorstep. She kept clutching him tight, afraid he might harm himself, but he was too numb to properly register her presence.   Karl hanged himself, and he couldn’t see the warning signs.   The ambulance came, then the police. Questioning followed. The rest was a blur, Anders remembered waking up in his place two days later, still in the same clothes. Karl was gone, so was his body. The only memento was the dirty spot left on the floor, directly under where he dangled.   Time was nonexistent. Anders lied on the couch, making no move. His phone rang a few times, but he ignored it. He only dared to creep from under his safe layer of blankets and pillows to eat and do his business in the bathroom. He couldn’t sleep, his waking hours were spent on as little activity as possible.   Then Molly came. She somehow had his key and slipped into the dark, stuffy apartment. Guess she was the one who drove him home from the police station and kept the keys. She thought he was asleep, but he sat up and just stared. The corner of her mouth jerked awkwardly, but she didn’t retreat. Instead, she asked him where his plates were, because she made him food.   He didn’t know her too well back then; she lived with her brother and uncle in the next-door apartment. He vaguely recalled their parents and sister died in a fire, forcing the two to squat with her uncle; a sleazy type named Gamlen.   Honking behind snapped him back to reality. He drove a few more blocks, pulling over at the gas station.   Molly was working part time and finishing college. She was concerned over him, asking how his last year was doing. When the shock passed, he got back to school and his internship. He avoided his apartment as best as he could. He blessed the odds for Hawke. She pulled him out of a spiral that would be his inevitable end.   The closer they grew together, the more he learned about her. Her brother was in the military, their family used to have a printing company, but Gamlen got the largest part of the shares, which he squandered. He sensed that Hawke was actually relieved when coming over, because she didn’t have to be around Gamlen. Her uncle was a creep.   “Anything else?” The cashier asked, giving him a look of suspicion.   “Uh… condoms.” He said faster than he could think.   Maker, he was an adult! Why was he this embarrassed to buy protection? Well, probably because his subconscious just made it clear how much he wanted to fuck Molly senseless. Also, the only other items he purchased was a huge tub of ice-cream and hand sanitizer. The sanitizer was for his personal use, the ice-cream was Hawke’s favorite flavor; hazelnut. Whenever he was over she had some in the freezer.   He pondered whether he should get her something to drink, but dropped the idea. Alcohol was a bad advisor, he didn’t want to tempt fate. He paid for the groceries and got back in the car. On his way he tucked the condoms into his coat’s inner pocket. He wasn’t planning anything, he was simply being cautious. Right?   He parked at his usual spot next to Hawke’s building. Suddenly, the interior of his ramshackle car was more appealing. He didn’t trust himself, not after four years of trying to hold back. He felt approaching disaster, but could not walk away either. He had to man up and face his own feelings and temptation.   His steps on the parking lot were muffled by the layer of fluffy white. It kept snowing; all sounds seemed distant. There was light in Molly’s living room, dim and warm. Anders pulled his hood over his head and marched straight for the building.   Several steps and floors later he knocked on the door. He would usually hear music coming from the apartment, but the place was quiet and still. Perhaps it was because Isabela left, she was a musician after all.   The tumblers in the lock turned and the door was pushed open, light from the apartment slipped into the hallway.

Chapter 1 - Bedtime Story

“Aww shit, piss, fuck! Gaah, sonnuva…!!” Farkas’ roar broke the still silence of the bedroom.   “Treasure?” Caye awoke to find her husband rolling onto his back and desperately clutching his leg.   “Leg cramp! Leg cramp!!” He grunted, apparently trying to tear his calf off.   “Dear Gods, I thought you were having a heart attack!” The Dunmer exhaled with relief, lighting a nearby lamp with a small flame she conjured on the tip of her finger.   “I’m dying here, woman!” He kept groping and clutching his joint, desperately trying to rub the pain away.   “Oh, pish-posh!” She puffed, gently pulling his hands away. “Let me do it, pull your toes together and try to relax.”   She pressed and massaged the hard, tense point on his calf, patiently softening the cramped muscle.   “Ugh… Yeah, like that.” The pained look on his face smoothened.   He rested on the pillows and observed his little wife giving him a professional massage. Though the long, practical nightshirt she wore spoiled the view a bit.   “Is this better?” She asked, punching his leg with her tiny fists.   “Mmm… That felt good.” He confessed, completely relaxing. “Though I might have some problems falling asleep now…” He grinned.   “I could tell you a bedtime story.” Caye offered, her black eyes flickered.   “You kidding?”   “No. There’s a Breton fairytale I always liked.” She said, still working her hands.   “I’m all ears.” He agreed, folding his arm behind his head.   Her telling a bedtime story? Now, that’ something you don’t get to see every night. His wife was a quiet, well-mannered creature, whom people considered cold and distant. And also a bit creepy, because of her posed speech and alien eyes. He was one of the few who got to know her better. Although, she could still be a mystery to him.   “This is one of my personal favorites, the tale of Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf.”   “Uh-oh?” He raised his brow. He might be slow, but he saw a parallel here. He used to be a werewolf, his little lady had red hair like many Dark Elves.   “I used to like this one as a child. Some parts of Breton fairytales might be considered cruel, still they’re quite tame compared to Dunmer bedtime stories…” She advanced a bit up, closer to his knee. “There was once a girl called Little Red Riding Hood. She was called so because of a red cape with a hood she wore everywhere she went.” She began her tale. “One day, her mother gave her a basket with wine, sweets, food and medicine and told her to deliver it to her grandmother, who lived in the deep, dark woods.”   “That doesn’t sound too logical…” Farkas noted. “I mean, wouldn’t it be better if she lived with them? Elders can still do small choirs around the house.”   “It’s a story, don’t look to deep into it.” She sighed, gently caressing his leg. His calf was fine now, but who knew? The cramp could come back every second.   “So, the kid?”   “Little Red obliged, because she loved her grandmother very much. But before leaving, her mother warned her not to wander off the path and not to talk to strangers.”   “She was unarmed? What about beasts?” He wondered. She slapped the side of his upper thigh.   “Shh! Do you want to spoil the story for yourself?” She scolded.   Her husband said nothing, allowing her to continue her tale.   “Little Red left the house with her trusty hood and cape. And the basket, of course. She was humming a tune and hopping, enjoying the woods. Home was soon gone behind the trees and she was alone.”   “How old was she?”   “Pardon?” The elf blinked.   “How old was she? Little, as in a kid or a lassie?”   “Does it matter?”   “Well, kinda. You expect different things from kids and adolescent girls in stories.”   “Fourteen.” Caye replied, growing annoyed.   “What race?”   “Farkas, why do you have to be difficult?” She sighed, resting her head on his thigh.   “Well, race is also important. Her real name could help me guess.”   “She didn’t use her real name and she was a Breton.” His wife enumerated. “And if you’re curious, the woods were mostly oak and birch. It was late summer. Anything else you would like to know before I continue?”   “Nope.” He replied innocently. “I’ll ask you if something hits me.”   “Good. As I was saying… before being interrupted… She was on her way to her grandmother’s house. But she soon noticed beautiful little flowers growing slightly off the road. She knew her mother forbade her from wandering off the path, but mother wasn’t there. And the flowers would surely be a nice gift for her poor, old granny. Besides, she wouldn’t take long. So, she wandered off and began picking the flowers for a bouquet. Little did she know she was being watched by a pair of glowing eyes from the nearby bushes”   “Is this the part where I gasp?” He asked, ruffling her hair.   “Oh, treasure, there are many ways I could make you gasp.” She promised with a smile. He knew that look on her face damned too well. Underneath all her manners his wife was a wild one.   “I want a story, not a whip in my arse.”   “So vulgar…!” Shaking her head, she undid the knot fastening his pants.   “Whatcha doing?” He grinned with hope.   “I worry the cramp might be more serious than just a random spasm.” She said, pulling his pants off. “I need you to lay still.” She sighed dramatically, gently checking the side of his groin.   “Yes, ma’am!” He said eagerly. “Now, the glowing eyes?”   “Ah, yes! The eyes belonged to the Big Bad Wolf. He observed the lass hungrily, his long rough tongue rolled out of his mouth and drooled. He crept out of the bush and snuck up to the girl. As Little Red noticed him, she gasped, but remained in place. The wolf leaned towards her and asked ‘Who are you and where are you heading to, little girl?’, and she said…”   “Werewolf.” Her beloved cut in.   “I’m sorry?”   “It talked, it must have been a werewolf.”   “Alright” Caye gave up, encircling his navel with her finger. “The werewolf asked where she was heading to. And Little Red said ‘I’m Little Red Riding Hood and I’m off to my granny, who is old and sick, and lives all alone in a cottage deep in these woods.’ So, then…”   “And the grandpa?”   “Granny was a widow!” She squeaked angered.   “Love, no need to act hasty. You’re firing up. Here, let me help you take that shirt off, so you can cool down…” He said, sitting up and fishing her out of the cotton nightshirt. “There, all better. Go on, I’m genuinely intrigued.”   She pouted a bit, folding her arms and completely covering her humble chest. He laughed, supporting his back against the headrest and pulling her onto his laps.   “Fine, so the werewolf then said ‘You know, lassie, there are some prettier flowers growing deeper into the woods. I’m sure your grandma would love them’ he then slimes sweetly. Little Red forgets all about her mother’s warnings and runs farther away from the path. The devious creature smiles and rushes to granny’s house, while Little Red is busy with another bouquet.”   “Why didn’t he just rip her throat open on the spot?” Farkas wondered, searching his memory. He used to be a moonbeast, but never attacked people. Still, he understood how predators viewed the world.   “Because he had a plan brewing.” She replied, caressing his chest. “The werewolf soon knocks on granny’s door. The old lady asks cautiously ‘Who is there?’ to which the werewolf replies ‘Little Red, granny!’ ”   “And she bought that?”   “Granny was a bit deaf.” Caye quickly explained. “She foolishly opens the door and the werewolf jumps inside and eats her.” She gnashed her little round teeth for a proper effect. But it would take much more to impress her husband.   “Oh, what happened next?” He asked faking a child’s tone. With his low, hoarse voice it was a hilarious effect.   “The werewolf got dressed in granny’s clothes…”   “But didn’t he eat her?”   “He did. In one big snap, he ate her whole. Only her clothes remained. Quickly, the werewolf put them on and flung himself onto the bed, patiently waiting for Little Red. The girl soon came, humming a tune and carrying the basket and the large bouquet.”   “I’m trembling with anticipation.” He purred, resting his cheek on her forehead. Her behind was a pleasant burden on his groin.   “Little Red greets granny, but notices something is odd about the old lady. ‘My, granny, what big eyes you have!’ She says, taking a step forward.” Caye opened her soulless eyes wide. “The werewolf grins and says ‘To see you better, my dear.’ Little Red takes a closer look and shouts ‘My, granny what big ears you have!” She gestured at her own pointed ears, which he loved to bite so much. “And the beast replies ‘To hear you better, my dear.’ Little Red takes one final step and almost screams ‘Granny, what big teeth you have!’ And the imposter gnashes his sharp teeth and says ‘To eat you better, my dear!’ He pounces the girl and she soon joins granny in his belly.”   “Did he wear her red cape and went back home to eat mom?” Farkas yawned.   “Sun and Stars, what’s wrong with you?” His wife was genuinely shocked. “No! The werewolf went through the basket, found a bottle of wine, drank with delight and then went to sleep.”   “And… that’s it?”   “No, of course not. There has to be happy ending, this isn’t a Dunmer fairytale. A hunter was passing by. He looked through the window and saw the werewolf snoozing on granny’s bed. The hunter pulled out his crossbow and struck the beast with a bolt right between the eyes. He then leaped through the window and cut the werewolf’s belly open to pull both victims out” She quickly ran her finger across his abdomen.   “Ouch.” He slightly frowned. “So… the hunter was a peeping tom, he killed the imposter and pulled out the girl and the naked granny just like that? No digestion going on?”   “It’s a story!” Caye gave up. “In the end, the girl had a big scare, but learned her lesson. Granny got a nice new fur coat and the hunter the contents of the basket. And that’s the tale of Little Red Riding Hood.” She finished the story with a smile. “I guess the moral is, that little girls should not to talk with strangers.”   “Agreed.”   “But I also wanted you to hear it, because, well… I recently received a red cape with a hood and a nice wolf tail…”   “Oh…” His voice dropped an octave. As much as they enjoyed each other’s company, they had a small secret room in their cellar. She had certain tastes. He was more than happy to indulge her.   “So… I thought we could… test them out soon?” She risked, patting her red eyelashes.   “The tail…?” He asked concerned.   “Is on a belt, not a plug!” She swore. He drew a line, and she respected it.   “Good, good. But, you know what? I’ve been thinking…” His bluish-gray eyes lit up a bit. “Maybe you’d like to… switch roles?”   “R-really?” Caye was surprised.   “No, I just wanted to see the horror on your face. Yes, really. We’ve been doing this for quite some time. You showed me… things. But I see you want something different.” His forehead gently bumped against hers. “I want you to be happy. And… I’m curious myself.”   She felt heat on her cheeks and her temples tight. She wasn’t overzealous when it came to her fetish, an intense session about once per month fully satisfied her. Still, she missed being the bottom. Her husband was a calm and patient person, blessed with iron self-control. He was by no means violent or malicious, which actually should characterize every good dom.   “When?” Her voice trembled.   “Soon.” He kissed her on the forehead. “There’s tons of things we gotta talk over, but right now all I want is to get some sleep.”   “Sleep? Are you sure?” His wife asked seductively. Her hand wandered down his abdomen, but Farkas gently held it in place.   “Yep. Patience, missy, you’ll be begging me to leave you alone soon.” He declined with a grin.

Chapter 5 - Walk of Shame

He laid wide awake with Molly holding him tight. Her smooth thigh was lodged between his legs, her arms wrapped around his waist and shoulders. She was breathing peacefully, sound asleep. He daren’t move or make the slightest sound, though he felt like howling and slapping himself on the face. Her hair was wet and rugged where his cheek rested, he might have allowed himself a moment of silent crying. At this point he didn’t care, he couldn’t get any more pathetic than this.   She was so sweet. So kind. Too good for him. His affection was hopeless, but she was not the one to blame or burden. He knew he had to leave before she wakes up, but at the same time didn’t want to end this brief and wonderful tryst… even if it was a subtle, slow torture. Just a few more minutes, then he’ll make the titanic effort of prying himself off her and quietly retreating.   No, he couldn’t dally any second longer. First, he took her arms off him. Then, he managed to sit up and shift himself to the other edge of the couch. Anders rested his feet on the floor, bracing himself to stand up after resting stiff for so long.   He heard Hawke sigh, then sensed her motion. Looking over his shoulder and holding his breath, he saw that she rolled on her stomach. The coverlet slipped off her back, showing off her ass and Maker, she was still wet. No, this was too much for him to bear.   “Maybe I should stay and confess?” He thought.   No, he couldn’t. If it were his feelings alone, he’d come clean a long time ago. But this was Molly, he’d hurt her more than he could imagine. He’d betray her trust. He couldn’t do that.   He got up and began to gather his clothes. Underwear, pants, socks, then the ironic t-shirt. His hoodie he found in the hall. He made a brief stop in the kitchen to take one last gulp of the long cold coffee that was left on the table. He needed a small shot of energy before the tiresome ride home.   As quietly as he could, he put his boots and coat on, bracing to find the courage to open the door. The feat of reaching out for the knob was too much for him, his arm felt weak. Such a small, everyday thing and he felt like a mountain climber.   Fuck!   The very next second the door automatically shut and locked itself behind him. The hall was dark, cold and unwelcoming. Just like the rest of the world outside of Hawke’s apartment. Everything was gray with an unhealthy greenish hue. The perfect colors for how he felt inside. He knew this sense of hopelessness is going to last for several days, he might as well get used to it.   Tuesday wasn’t a day one would normally associate with a Walk of Shame. Thankfully, it was too early for anyone to see him hunching and retreating like he was guilty of something. Down the stairs, and into the refreshing cold then across the parking lot and into his car.   The windows were crusted with fresh frost, he spent a good half hour scrapping it off. At least it didn’t snow anymore. Breathing through his nose, exhaling almost opaque clouds of hot breath, he worked around his car, feeling sweat drip down his spine. He smelled of sex, regret and frustration, first thing he’ll do when he gets home is hop under the shower and scrub himself until he’s red all over.   Done. He got inside and ignited the engine. For a few frantic seconds he feared it froze, but the rusty beast purred reluctantly and resonated once the engine started off. A snow plough drove by, blazing a dark trail in the snowy road.   He couldn’t help but glance at her windows. Dark, thank the Maker. When she wakes up she’ll probably wonder why he left without a word instead of staying for breakfast. She’ll give him a call, he was sure of that. Maybe not right away, but in a matter of a few days, when the post-coital shock fades. Maybe he should change his number and lie he lost his phone?   Great, he was already planning how to avoid her.    With a heavy sigh Anders drove off. Away, back into his solitary little slum. And he still needed to pay that gas bill.

Chapter 4 - But My Body Is Telling Me Yes

Anders was dumbstruck. Hawke wanted him to ease the pain of the recent break-up with sex. Hawke, his best friend, who trusted him with everything, wanted to fuck him.   “I’m so sorry!” Molly stepped back, startled by his shocked reaction. “I am so sorry, Anders! I shouldn’t have said that! Andraste’s pyre, you’re a person, my best friend, not a piece of meat!”   She felt dizzy from the surge of rapidly changing emotions of the evening, and heavily sat at the seat he offered. She hid her face in her hands, her forehead rested on her laps when she bent forward, rhythmically lulling herself on the chair.   “Please, I don’t want to lose you too, just… I’ll completely understand if you want to go. I can’t believe I was thinking this.” She rambled on.   “Molly, you have no idea how much I want you.” He thought, observing her having yet another breakdown this night. “I want you so much, my soulmate. You’re not making things easy for me.”   There were people who could have perfectly platonic sex with their friends. He had a share of such relationships as a youngster. A quickie, a high five, then a few beers or a TV series marathon. No harm done.   Unless one side was helplessly in love with the other. Then things got tricky.   “But I’m still a man.” He surrendered, brushing hair from her nape. “This will be a disaster. But I can’t live without it.”   She froze, feeling him kiss her neck, his stubble was thick and itchy.   “Moll, I want to help you.” He whispered, realizing he shouldn’t make his intentions entirely altruistic, lest he betrays his true feelings. “And it was a long time since I’ve been with someone.”   “Anders…” She uttered, straightening on the chair. She looked up at him with that intense stare. Her eyes were huge, reddened from all the tears. “I need you…”   He took her by the hands, guiding to stand up. She suddenly slipped her hands out of his grasp, pulling one arm around his waist, the other sunk into his hair, forcing him to lower his head. She kissed him clumsily, gasped a laugh, then let him do the work.   He dreamed of this moment, reality surpassed fantasy. Hawke moaned, letting his tongue do as it pleased in her mouth. The feeling of her chest pressing on his, her thigh sliding up his hip. Her lips, tongue… His hands caressing the length of her back, finally able to grope her ass. This was perfect. And it was about to get better… Before regrets come in the morning.   No, that’s future Anders’ problem.   “Bedroom?” He asked, when they were retreating out of the kitchen, avoiding bumping into the furniture.   “No, too many memories.” Molly shot down the suggestion, helping him get rid of his hoodie.   “Living room?” He guessed, remembering her comfy suede couch.   “Living room.” Molly confirmed, dodging the wardrobe in the hall.   “About protection…” Anders let common sense take over for a moment, reaching under her sweater to unhook her bra. She wore none; her breasts were really that perky. Dear Maker, she was outrageously perfect.   “Don’t worry about it.” She assured, pulling him into the living room. “I’m on the pill.” She snickered embarrassed, realizing how strange it sounded for a person who lived with another woman for years. “For non-contraceptive benefits.” She added, pushing him on the couch only to mount the very next second. “But you don’t want me to go into details at a time like this, right?”   Anders couldn’t believe his luck. Molly. Raw, with no risks.   “No, I’m good.” He swore. “Lift your arms up, please.”   He pulled the sweater over her head, then tossed it aside. Her breasts were amazing; round and heavy, the areolas dark, the nipples thick. Ideal for sucking and teasing with his teeth. He needn’t encouragement to cup them, grope them, taste them.   She cooed, then yelped when he got too eager. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her hips drew circles around his pelvis, making his rapidly developing erection uncomfortably restrained in his pants.   Like she was reading his mind Hawke slid off him, getting on her knees and unbuttoning his pants. Impatiently, she pulled them down all the way to the ankles, then unceremoniously reached for his cock. Anders gasped shocked at such boldness when Molly whipped his prick out of his shorts and got busy. She didn’t wait for him to get fully hard, she bowed her head and took the whole shaft in, then sucked hard, groping the base and his balls. She was loud and messy about it; slurping and leaving him all wet. Perfection.   “It’s always the quiet, sweet ones,” he thought, “crazy and kinky deep down inside.”   She squeezed her cheeks exceptionally hard, her lips slid slowly up his length, until he popped out of her mouth with a loud, moist sound. She bit her lip with a mischievous look in her eyes. She then reached up and pulled up the hem of his ironic t-shirt, until he had to raise his arms so she pull it over his head. Her fingers rand down his chest and abdomen, after a second of thought, her tongue followed the same path, making a brief stop to bite his nipple. Anders could bet she had a lot more crazy inside her.   Moll jerked him tenderly, marveling at how the head was getting redder in response to her touch.   “Oh, that’s cute.” She giggled, giving his member a closer look, then planting a loving smooch just below the glans.   No man liked to hear their cock was ‘cute’, but he knew she meant the birthmark he had just under the frenulum; a small black mole.   “How about you show me yours?” He suggested, brushing her hair off her face.   Molly’s face lit up, she reached behind and hoisted herself up on the coffee table. It was a solid and unusually tall piece of furniture. He realized why it was so; this was perfect for eating her out, no doubt Isabela’s idea.   Not important now. He lifted the hem of Hawke’s skirt. She wore white cotton shorts, the type you only see on porn tagged as ‘teen’. The soft mound under the shorts was wet, exactly where her entrance was. He stroked it, getting her whole shorts soaked.   “Tease…” Molly muttered with her head hanging over the edge of the table.   His rough stubble brushed against her inner thigh. She let out a surprised ‘oh!’ and propped herself up on her elbows to get a better look at what he was doing. He got a good grip of her hips, digging in through the cotton fabric. Sorry Moll, you’re going to have those panties ruined.   ‘Oh, come on! Take them off!’ her impatient wiggling signaled. He savored the leaking wetness, still with the soft fabric as a dam between him and her. He didn’t want to tease her for far too long, but having Hawke at the edge because of his touch, was priceless. He nipped at the clit, conjuring a spasm of Moll’s lower back. That was enough, Anders couldn’t wait any longer himself. He wanted to be inside her.   Molly cried with joy when he finally pulled the soaked shorts off. She giggled when they rested on the lampshade, but the laugh was cut short when she felt his tip gently brushing against her vulva.   “Like this?” He made sure, running it up and down, getting nicely wet from her generous flow.   “Just one last kiss? Please?” She asked, her breathing was heavy and impatient.   Anders was glad he obliged, else he wouldn’t get a good look of her pussy. It was lovingly inward, he had to spread the lips with his thumbs to see the glistening, mauve part. Maker, his erection couldn’t get any harder than this. Those soft lips were bound to give him a good, firm squeeze.   He did just as Hawke asked, licking her entrance and clit with his flattened tongue. She tasted good, enough for him to restrain the need to get inside and eat her out a bit longer.   “Ssstop iiit!” Hawke protested when he took too long, her thighs closed in on his shoulders. “I want you, Anders. Now!” She demanded.   Who was he to refuse a lady? The damned pants were constraining his ankles, he struggled out of them, kicking his socks off while he was at it. With his legs free, he could get a good stance, looming over Molly. Her feet rested on his shoulders, he gripped her ankles and entered smoothly.   Hawke’s pleased groan assured him he wasn’t going too rough or fast. Her nails scraped the edges of the table when Anders went faster, going all the way in and out. He let her moist heat wrap itself around him, thrusting with fervor. She was incredibly tight and firm, when she squeezed him hard, he had actual trouble keeping up the pace.   “You feel incredible…” He muttered, kissing her foot, then sliding his tongue the length of her sole. The skin on the underside was soft and smooth, slightly more flushed than the rest of her foot.   She moaned and giggled, both from his thrusting and the ticklish caresses of her foot. Anders sucked her toe, daring to push in harder. With half shut eyes, he watched her breasts bounce with his every move, her ass pleasantly cushioning his thighs. She outstretched her arms, silently demanding him to lay on her. She practically bit into his lips, her ankles hooked around his waist, greedily pulling him closer.   Balls-deep, he could feel her dampened skin on his. She clawed at his hair, forcing him to maintain their sloppy kisses, her hips tilting upward to maintain the most pleasing angle. She scratched his back shallowly while she was at it, conjuring shivers alongside his spine.   For all the pain that would inevitably come, he was in heaven.   “I want you to come inside me. You know it’s safe and I don’t care about the mess.” She breathed out, finally letting him gasp for air.   “I’d love to.” He groaned hoarsely, shifting his attention to the side of her neck. He bit her hard enough to leave a mark that would last for a few days, something to remind Hawke of this moment whenever she loses her resolve about Isabela.   She was getting close, her body could not hide it. Her breath was louder, her moans faster, less sensual and more primal. The hold of her thighs was closing in on his pelvis, so was the rhythmic pulsing of her pussy. Just a few more minutes and she’ll release.   Speaking of which, he was almost there himself. He pounded her without any subtlety now, knowing she didn’t care about sensuality or tenderness at this point. She wanted to come with him inside her, then have her hole stretched and gapped, dripping his seed. And that was exactly what Anders wanted as well.   “Look at me.” He said, feeling his loins giving in. “I’m going to come soon, and…”   “Aah!” She didn’t let him finish, climaxing first.   He would be put back, but her sudden spasm drove him over the edge. He followed, spilling himself inside Hawke, filling her up as generously as a man who was abstinent for four years. Molly’s cry fell into a shocked yelp when the streams shot inside her with such force and quantity. Anders moaned with relief and pleasure, releasing the rest of his load. Her legs instinctively drew up, her hips lifted up even further, so that his come would flow even deeper inside her.   When he was done, empty and exhausted, he smothered her with a grunt and went completely numb. Hawke let out an equally pleased sigh, her hands caressed his sweaty back, feeling his chest heave like bellows. Maker, they both needed this.   The afterglow didn’t last for too long, she swatted his ass asking to get off her. He pulled out reluctantly. All his sperm and her juices gushed out, making a puddle on the edge of the table, which streamed over it and leaked down to the fuzzy rug. Molly just waved her hand, she said she didn’t care about the mess after all.   “I’ll get you a towel.” He offered, heading out of the room and into the bathroom.   He grabbed the first towel he could find on the rack and avoiding looking at himself in the mirror got back to the living room, where Moll was slowly collecting herself. She sat up, yelping when her pussy loudly released another portion of cum. He handed her the towel and flung himself on the couch.   Gathering his thoughts, he felt self-loathe and regret creeping into the back of his head. Good job loser, now you’re going to relive this for several weeks, tearing up inside. Now you won’t be able to act natural around her anymore, and you know it. Your cover is blown Anders, your friendship can only spiral down into destruction from this point forward. But you finally fucked her, good for you.   Hawke wiped herself dry and laid at his side, pulling the coverlet over them. She trustingly embraced him, he returned the embrace feeling a lump in his throat.   “Is something wrong?” She asked, sensing a change in his mood.   “No, everything’s fine.” He protested putting all his strength into sounding natural and not the emotional wreck that he was. “I just… wow.” He smiled, hoping he didn’t give away his pain.   “I know, right?” Hawke snuggled closer. “You were great.” She praised dreamily.   “So were you.”   Come on, say it. Put the knife in my chest and twist it.   “You’re such a good friend.” She sighed, sleep already slipping into her voice.   There it is.   “I’m always there for you.” He swore, feeling his eyes itch.

Chapter 7 - Meanwhile in Another Dungeon

“You can still say no.” Vilkas offered, closing the door to his room.   “I’m not backing down.” Aela boasted.   She just got back from her hunt, and although weary from the trip, she decided to visit him this late at night.   “No, you never do…” He sighed. “Okay, you’ve asked for it. Strip.”   She slipped out of her favorite skimpy armor in a blink. Her knees were grazed and she had a red mark on her cheek, as if slapped by a branch. Other than that, she was blooming.   “Well?” She asked, presenting herself. “What do you think?”   “I saw you naked hundreds of times.” He replied, arranging his bed. He was still a bit sleepy, but his mind was clearing.   His room was clean and tidy as always. The Huntress was a bit disappointed. No chains, candles, or bizarre contraptions were laid out. Then again, she just woke him up, so maybe he had all the kinky goods hidden away for special occasions.   “I expected something else form your dungeon, you know.” She estimated, pacing around the room.   “My dungeon?” He raised a brow. “I’m not that pretentious, we don’t need all that dramatic setting. I want it nice and simple for your first time.”   “Right…” She snarled, leaning against the privacy screen he had at the foot of his bed. “How kind of you.”   “Look.” He rubbed the back of his head and yawned. “You’re not impressing anyone with the tough act. I’ve known you for years, so don’t waste time on trying to intimidate me.” He undressed in no hurry. “You came here, because you wanted to see for yourself how it’s like. Well, sorry to break the news to you, but it’s nothing what most people picture.”   “Oh? What is it about, then?”   “You and me.” He revealed calmly, sitting on the edge of the bed.   “And what makes you think there is a you and me?” She crossed her arms defensively.   “See, you’re already backing away.” Vilkas smirked. “As usual.”   “We mate and we fight together, what more could you want from me?”   “Your trust and honesty.” He answered bluntly.   “I trust you enough to let you lash me for fun tonight, isn’t that enough?”   “You really think it’s all about lashing you for fun and dressing in leather?” He shook his head in disbelief.   “Am I wrong?”   “Yes. But I confess… I’ve made mistakes in the past. Got the whole idea wrong, almost broke my sub…”   “Ever since Ria rejected you, she’s stronger and more confident.” Aela’s golden-green eyes were half-shut.   “Yes… I’ve underestimated her.” His thoughts drifted away. “She liked being controlled. I abused that privilege. I’ve learned better, but not before she broke a bottle over my head. Now she barely tolerates me.”   “Are you going to cry?” She faked concern, leaning forward.   “Master.” He corrected, getting in role. “That’s how you’re going to call me. Now come here.” He ordered, patting the mattress next to him.   Aela hesitantly sat at his side. Vilkas yawned again, but suddenly sprang up, stretched and approached a nearby shelf. He fumbled for something amongst an assorted mix of items. Finally, he got back to her with a coil of black rope and some leather cuffs.   “Oh… things are getting serious.”   “First warning.” He reprimanded coldly, kneeling before her.   He reached out for her foot. Aela bend back, letting him bite her ankle. His teeth sent shivers up her calf and thigh, evoking a pleasant tingling between her legs. He always had great technique, but at the same time was so selfish.   The cuffs closed around her ankles, connected with a loop. He methodically bound her feet together and advanced up, doing the same with the knees. Her legs were firmly, but comfortably tied together.   “Anxious?” Vilkas joked, resting on her lap.   “No… Master.” The Huntress said quickly, seeing his brows rise.   “Good, good. We’re taking it nice and slow.”   “Ah, because I’m special?” She dared.   “No, because I know I’d lose my front teeth if I’d do something rash.” He said logically.   “You’re always so foreseeing.” She watched him work her wrists with a second pair of cuffs.   He nonchalantly pushed her on the sheets. Aela grunted and instinctively tensed to pounce, but he knew how to tie a knot. Whistling a tune, the warrior closed the second pair of cuffs on her wrists, then bound her hands to her hips and finally her elbows to her sides.   “Soon, you will spread your wings, my little caterpillar.” He taunted, laying her alongside the bed.   “Not funny… Ow!” She hissed, when he pinched her nipple. She struggled, but could only arch back.   “Sh… don’t make this difficult.” He said softly, enjoying his Shield-Sister squirm.   She had pale freckles on her neckline and coral nipples. And a wonderfully proportional body. She was fit and snug in all the right places. Her womb had a soft, red bush he loved to come all over. He feasted his eyes on her frame, but the look on her face was the best part of the image.   He rested next to her and pulled closer, so that her head rested on his chest. He yawned and closed his eyes. It seemed that he wanted to go to sleep.   “Are you… going to do something?” She finally asked confused.   “Sh…!” He whispered, giving her a light slap on the butt. “Just enjoy the moment.”   Aela felt anxiety slowly creep up her throat. She tried to move, but the knots were impossible to slip out of. She could assume her bestial form, but that would only give him satisfaction. The bastard. They always did it roughly, fast and with no unnecessary chatter. What they were doing right now was nothing special, but made her edgy. This was just too… intimate. She was truly comfortable and honest only with Skjor, but he was dead.   He felt his Shield-Sister tense, cold sweat dampened her skin. A panic attack was imminent, this was the crucial moment; take control of her firmly, but without breaking her trust.   “Something wrong?”   “No.” She grunted.   “Don’t lie, Aela. Is there something wrong?” Vilkas insisted.   “I can’t move. I’m defenseless.”   “There’s just the two of us, nothing to be afraid about.” He assured.   “What if something would happen?” She retaliated. “I can’t do anything!”   “No, you can’t. It’s because I’m in charge. You don’t trust I’ll protect you?” He looked down on her strained face, green paint rubbed off her cheek and into his chest.   “Like I need anyone protecting me!” She bit her tongue too late.   “Just give it a chance.” He sighed resigned.   “Well… okay.” She agreed hesitantly. “Master…”   “I’ll never grow tired of hearing that.”   His heartbeat was regular and slow, his heart was strong and confident. Her own started to finally slow down its pace. The proud Huntress tried to relax, but she still didn’t trust the more vicious of the twins.   “You were always an ass.” She muttered. Even though she agreed to play the submissive role, she refused to lay passively.   “And you always bite.” He replied, lazily pinching and rolling her nipple.   “Are you going domesticate me?” She dared.   “No. Well, not all the way. You’d be boring if you’d lose your ferocity.”   “Was that a compliment?”   “You know, you’re a bit too chatty. Something must be drawing your attention away.” He fumbled under his pillow, remembering he had a silk blindfold underneath.   “Hey!” She jerked away, with little success due to the ropes.   “You must really want me to discipline you…” He made a face, it was unclear whether it was a snarl or smirk.   “Ass!” Though Aela fought, she could do little. Her Shield-Brother covered her eyes in seconds.   “I also have a gag handy. Stop fighting or I’ll have to use it. And I’d like to avoid that, since I need your mouth.”   “For what?” She growled, trying to tilt her head back and peek from under the blindfold.   Vilkas got a good grip of her hair to keep her from peeking. He rubbed his rough cheek against hers, then ran the tip of his tongue between her parted lips.   “You be good, and I’ll be nice.” He muttered hoarsely into her ear. “Unless you don’t want me to be nice to you.”   She said nothing, licking off his saliva from her lips. He knew how to build up atmosphere, the fucker.   “I’m all yours, Master.” She finally gave in. He was surprised to hear arousal in her voice.   She rested comfortably on her back, allowing Master to release her hair and get busy with fondling her breasts.   “Here’s the deal. Since you’re a talkative one, you’ll keep talking, and I’ll keep doing what I’m doing. You go silent and I back away. Go.”   “You were an ass ever since we met. We were still whelps and the first thing you did was say I have no place in Jorrvaskir, because I’m a girl.” She started, making a pause to gasp, feeling his grip on her tits harder.   “Go on.” Vilkas said patiently, venturing lower. He slipped his tongue into her navel, she swayed from side to side. He couldn’t see, but he could bet she was biting her lip.   “I punched you in the nose. Then your brother, just to have you two sorted out immediately.”   “I remember.” He recalled. “You were always a feisty one.”   “We trained together, constantly competing.” She arched back, feeling his rough tongue go lower, but retreat the moment it met with the first of the red hairs.   “Yeah. Those were the days.” He joked, stroking her womb.   “Just lick me already!” Aela hissed.   “You’re smart enough to know you have no right to demand anything from me.” He sighed, wrapping a curl around his finger and tugging a bit.   “Please lick me, Master.” The Huntress begged with genuine strain. “I missed your tongue tasting my pussy.”   “Well, now!” He exclaimed with pleasant surprise. “Since you put it that way…”   She purred like a saber cat when his lips closed around the hood of her clitoris. He nibbled on it, until it got harder and bigger.   “Then we started hitting puberty… I was the last to undergo the transformation.” Aela bitterly reflected on the past. “Me, of all people! The Blood has been passed from mother to daughter for generations in my family! But I was the last to heed its call.”   “But once you did, you put on quite the performance.” He remembered, as if that faithful night was just yesterday.   He legs were tied together, so he could only reach her clitoris with his tongue. His hands, though…   “Wah!” She gasped, when he boldly shoved them inside her, her pussy was already getting wet, but not relaxed enough.   “Keep talking.” His hot breath was heard somewhere from above, close to her ear. “I love it when you have that tone.”   “When we were all adults I grew closer to Skjor. You and I drifted a bit apart.” She continued, the tale turned to the more personal, bitter path. “He’s dead now. Bravado killed him. That, and my sloppiness.”   He fingered her faster and rougher, but it was not from jealousy, nor spite. Her voice slightly shook; he didn’t want it to seem it was because of how personal her confession was.   “I’m not Skjor.” He said quietly.   “And you never will. And I don’t expect you to be.” She refuted, breathing deeply.   They were both proud and stubborn people, so they needn’t more words. It was their way of agreeing on an arrangement.   “Aaah!” She gnashed her teeth the moment he bend his fingertips. “That spot, right there. Ah…”   “I want to hear a name when you come. Any name that comes to your mind.” He whispered before biting her ear. “I needn’t hear more.”   “Then make me come!”   She had a powerful abdomen; her pussy could quiver with force no ordinary woman’s could. Her walls powerfully closed around his fingers the moment she climaxed. He grunted, but bit his tongue hearing her call out a name in carnal bliss. It was exactly what he wanted to hear.   “Ouch…!” He muttered, cracking his knuckles, then snapping his slippery fingers. “You almost broke them.”   “No one forced you to shove them in my twat.” Aela taunted, after the last electrifyingly pleasant sensation passed. “Untie me.”   “Not yet.” He refused with a grin, but took the blindfold off.   “Come on! You’re not going to pleasure yourself personally, are you?”   “Thanks, but I’m good.” He smiled almost innocently. “I got everything I need.”   “Vilkas…” Aela’s cheeks got red.   “Yes?”   “I really need to pee.” She confessed embarrassed, instantly killing the mood.

Chapter 3 - My Mind is Telling Me No

“Hey.” Hawke greeted, stepping aside, so that he could come in.   She embraced him tight the moment the doors slammed shut. Maker, she was warm. He let the shopping bag slip to the floor and returned the embrace, keeping his hands above the groove where her back ended and more treacherous territory began.   “I’m glad you’re here.” She muttered, stuffing her face into the furry collar of his coat.   “I’m always here for you.” He replied casually, stroking her hair, ignoring the impulse to sniff it.   Hawke’s hair was dark, naturally wavy, reaching just below her collarbones. He envied Isabela whenever he caught her playing with Molly’s hair.   “Have I pulled you out of bed?” She asked, peeling herself away, to his demise.   “In a manner of speaking.” He replied, realizing he rushed out of his place with his hair down and bedrugged. “The cold woke me up, but coffee would be nice.”   Moll took the bag and his coat, then lead him into the cozy kitchen. On his way Anders noticed that a few things were missing. No doubt Isabela took them… Or Hawke already threw them away.   His nose and cheeks were reddened, a common sight in winter. A few minutes in the warm and a cup of strong black coffee (he refused to drink his coffee any other way) made the blush fade. He warmed his palms on the thick mug, comfortably seated at the round kitchen table, waiting for the conversation to start.   “How’s work?” Hawke asked, busy around the spotless kitchen, which was usually the most chaotic place in the apartment. She must have been occupying her hands and thoughts with cleaning while waiting for him.   “The usual. I do my job right, they thank the Maker. Something goes wrong, they blame me. You?”   “Business is good, the presses are running at full capacity.” Molly smirked, looking over her shoulder. Her golden eyes would be the death of him one day. “Varric came to me with a proposition. He finished his book and he wants my company to print it, can you imagine?”   The printing company was her baby. When she brought it from her uncle’s obligees, Amell Publishing had nearly gone bankrupt from bad management. It took her four years, but the firm had finally recovered from the state she inherited it. In a way, reclaiming her family’s legacy and position in the industry helped her deal with the trauma of…   It was about two months after Karl died. Anders was mentally stable, struggling with his finals. Carver, Molly’s brother, was on leave. Moll had her own problems with work and college, but naturally she chose to ride the bull instead of fleeing.   Oh, and her lecher of an uncle finally quit leering and verbally taunting, making a move on her. Carver walked in just in time, went blind with rage and broke Gamlen’s neck. He got eight years in prison.   Hawke was devastated. Not because of Gamlen, of course. Carver was all that remained of her family. He was not a criminal! She swore she would take care of him when he gets out of jail. She soon learned, much to her surprise, that Gamlen had insurance and no other family (that anyone would know of). She didn’t think twice – she took the swine’s money and brought Amell Publishing.   She wasn’t alone in her endeavors, she made friends after moving to Kirkwall. There was Varric, the aspiring writer. Merrill, the quirky girl who rocked her own flower shop. Fenris, the strange broody guy no one knew too well. Aveline, a friend she knew long before the fire incident.   And of course, she had Anders, all of him. He was at her side, just like she was with him when his world was falling apart. It was during that time when he developed his hopeless crush. He was on the verge of making the fatal confession, but that was when Hawke met Isabela… And fell head over heels for the free-spirited indie rock singer. Anders shut his mouth and backed off.   “Oh, you got me ice-cream.” Her voice was strangely hollow as she stuffed the box into the freezer.   “You always had hazelnut when I was around. I thought that might cheer you up.”   “Actually, that’s Isabela’s favorite. I’m allergic to nuts.” Molly explained, her voice shook.   Her palms slammed heavily on the fridge door. Her shoulders trembled, accompanied by lowly sobbing.   “Oh just PERFECT!” He thought, getting to her in a moment. He halted just behind her, unsure what to do, afraid his touch might make the situation worse.   Molly shook her head, her hair followed the motion like a cape. Even at a time like this she was alluring in a way she wasn’t aware of.   “Moll, I’m sorry.” He apologized, his palms hovered over her shoulders. “Nothing I can say…”   Hawke faced him and nearly crushed, wrapping herself around him as much as her frame would allow. She cried uncontrollably, nearly screaming into his chest, the fabric of his comfortable hoodie muffled her primal, tormented shriek.   This was not the time for words, she had to wear herself out. Anders carefully guided her to sit on the floor with him. Molly curled up into a ball on the cold tiles, resting her head on his lap, desperately clutching his hand. Maker, she could cry, he almost forgot how generously her tears could flow.   The cry fell into a raspy wail, Hawke was almost done. After a few more minutes, with Anders silently stroking her hair, she went numb and tired. Her nose blocked up, forcing to breathe through the mouth in short gasps that every now and then gave into yelps.   “I shouldn’t act surprised.” She breathed out, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her fluffy sweater. “I knew how it would end, but I did it anyhow.”   “Don’t blame yourself.” He comforted, stroking her flushed cheek. The fresh red on her mocca (and he could not call it otherwise) skin was mesmerizing.   “I’m not. I knew this would happen eventually. Izzie… She would never give up her freedom, not even for me. She told me not to make any promises, but I promised that I would never try to tame her.” Molly sat up and propped her back against the fridge, head resting on his shoulder. “You knew it would end up like this, didn’t you?”   “I didn’t want to interfere. It’s your life.” He excused himself.   “I was fooling myself. But I enjoyed it while it lasted.”   Anders didn’t say what was on his mind. He knew Isabela, he knew this was her way of trying to end things while they were good. If she truly wanted to break up with Hawke, she would do it with a bang. She’d cheat on Molly and wouldn’t even play subtlety. She would steal her money, sabotage her work. Isabela would do something to wound Hawke, hoping it would make things easier. Hoping hate would replace love and make things hurt less.   “I’m not much help. But you can take it out on me if you want.” He offered.   “No… I’d never do that.” She refused, wiggling her head under his shoulder and resting her cheek on his chest, right on the wet spot she made just a moment earlier. “I wanted to see you badly.” She said in a strangely intense tone.   “We’ve been through a lot together.” He reminded of their friendship founded in misery.   Maker, don’t get a boner, don’t get a boner! Ohh… But she was so pleasantly warm and curvy under the thick sweater and outrageously fluid wool skirt. Her rack was heavy, pressing hard to his side. She was a good person, his closest friend, his dick was not going to destroy this bond.   “I sometimes feel you’re the only one I could get this close with.” She confessed embarrassed. “I’d trust you with anything Anders.”   “Molly…” He had a gut feeling this conversation was leading somewhere. “Listen, you don’t need to tell me these things. We know we got each other’s back.”   “Right.” Hawke coughed to cover the sudden unease. “Thank you for coming. And thank you for letting me fall into pieces like this.” She stood up and smoothened her skirt, he politely averted his gaze from the tempting view that he might catch a glimpse of.   “Always here to pick them up and put you back together.” He joked, getting up as well. “Are you feeling at least a bit better?”   “Yes. You wouldn’t mind staying a bit longer?” Molly asked, trying to sound… natural? Was there something else she wanted to say?   “I have a day off tomorrow. I’m all yours.” He hadn’t realized how ambiguous his words were until he stopped talking.   “Don’t tell me these things. I might want to lock you up, so you would be with me all the time.” She joked.   “Sweetheart, I’m not letting anyone lock me up. You included.”   She gasped out a short soft laugh, then quickly looked him in the eye, apparently considering something in her thoughts. She then shook her head in embarrassment.   “Maker, I’m sorry!” She looked away, with a apologetic frown. “That sounded creepy, forget I said anything. I can be a true clinger sometimes.” Molly went on, belittling herself.   “You? A clinger? No way, I’m a clinger! You show me the least bit of acceptance and I won’t leave you alone.” Anders denied, trying to dispel the heavy atmosphere with humor but it didn’t work.   The conversation was cut short, the two of them stood about with no clear idea what to do now. It still snowed outside, the road home was going to be a real pain, regardless of how long he stays.   “I think she might be back.” Hawke broke the silence. “And please, before you say anything, I’m not fooling myself. I think there is a chance Isabela will have a change of heart. I think because of how she left… She wasn’t convinced herself. Otherwise…”   “She’d do something to make you hate her.” Anders concluded. “Something to make sure you’d never take her back.”   “Yes. So, you think she might return? As if nothing had happened?” Hawke asked, pain brushed against her face for a second.   “That is a possibility, Moll.”   “I shouldn’t let her come back.” Hawke shook her head, her decision was firm. “Anders, I still love her, despite everything. But I know there is no future for us. I can’t take her back. I can’t.”   “No.” He agreed. “I know you both, but take my advice – your relationship should end here, while no one got seriously hurt. Because this can only get ugly form here. Trust me on this one.”   She nodded, her pose relaxed. The warm light of the kitchen painted her features incredibly soft and warm. Her golden eyes were no exaggeration – they were exactly the color of molten gold.   “I need closure.” Molly said with force. “I need to cut the ties myself. And… that’s why I asked you to come over.” She swallowed loudly.   “To… Hear advice from a different perspective?” He suggested, dismissing any other reasons.   “That too.” Hawke was bracing herself to say something. “Anders, I…” She held her breath, there was a struggle she fought with herself.   “Moll? Come on, just spit it out. You’re giving me strange ideas.” Anders joked, trying to encourage her. “What bad thing would you need from me? A pity fuck?”   “A rebound.” She gasped out, almost choking on her words.

Chapter 0 - Prologue

 Prologue She lied on her bed. She couldn't think of anything to do; her parents were out of town, and it was getting late. She was not very tired, she had slept lengthily last night. She stared up in the ceiling. Her eyes had flickered towards the little cupboard next to her bed a few times. Perhaps she would try it. It had been very embarrasing. She didn't have a boyfriend, and hadn't ever had one. With this in mind she had entered the little shop, complete with terribly suggestive neon sign. She had thought about ordering it through the mail, until she realized that the boxes they came in were everything but discreet. So there she was. She entered, almost sneaking inside. At least they didn't have one of the little bells that tinkled as customers entered. No one was in the shop, apparently. She had been holding her breath, and breathed out as she realized this. She peered around, and carefully walked towards a shelf. At least she knew what she came for, took the pink dildo from the shelf, and walked towards the counter. A girl appeared from underneath it, apparently. Worlessly she handed the money to her, and she had the decency to follow the customers' lead, and with a little smile she waved her off. And that had been the end of that. She hadn't ever used it.

Chapter 6 - CH6

“Dear sweet Maker, if you’re up there and you’re not busy still being upset about giving us free will, please deliver me from any interruptions tonight.” Hawke muttered to herself, chaotically throwing on pieces of clothing, then tearing them off and stuffing into her wardrobe. “No sudden emergencies with the city, no old friends needing help with some earth shattering matter, no door-to-door salespeople, no dragons… Just one night, please?”   Dandy whined, demanding some attention.   “Oh no, boy! Please, mommy and daddy want some adult fun with messere Howe.” Bonnie pleaded, kneeling on the carpet, next to the canine. “Please, you be good and go play with Sandal, okay? We’ve spent enough time together today, don’t you think?”   The dog tried to guilt its mistress a bit more, but seeing the stern look on her face, he had to give up. Defeated, he left the room, hoping to gain some attention from the dwarf savant.   They should be here any minute, and she still wasn’t ready! She put on a new pair of piercings; a beautiful set form Antiva. She made sure her new intimate hairstyle was looking good (also a thing in Antiva, she was told), did some last minute trimming, oiling and scenting, but she had no idea what to wear.   She stood about growing more frustrated with each item of clothing she revised in her mind. Nothing was good enough for this occasion! Was she to come out in just the piercings and chemise? No! She was surprised herself of how much she wanted to impress Nathaniel (and make Anders feel nice for having her look good for company). When they had Isabela join in their bed about a year ago Bonnie hadn’t anything flashy on. And afterwards they spent the night eating candy in bed and chatting. Then again, that threesome was a completely spontaneous one… Blast.   The door swung open and the two men entered, seeing Hawke completely off guard and unprepared.   “Ah, to the void with this!” She grunted, stomping her foot like a brat in a tantrum. “Ta-da! Here’s how I’ll entertain our guest, because you never buy me anything nice!” She pointed accusatory at her lover.   “Darling, I whore myself for nice things in this relationship, not the other way around.” He calmly reminded, unaffected by her outburst or what Nathaniel might think.   As for the rogue, he stood dumbfounded, before shaking his head and laughing with some sort of relief. Yes, serah Hawke was a weird one, it was good to have that confirmed.   “You look splendid, my lady.” He complimented after ending his laugh with a short snort.   “Thank you.” She smiled, sitting at the foot of the bed. “So… Should we get started?”   “Yes, love…” Anders confirmed, getting behind Nathaniel. “Though I can’t promise I won’t keep him all for myself.”   “Just you try…” Hawke was about to stand up, but the mage halted her with a gesture.   “Enjoy the show and we’ll get back to you shortly.” He promised sweetly.   “Maker, what have I gotten myself into?” Nathaniel wondered, caught between these two.   Anders was quick with his fingers when it came to working buttons and lacings; he loosened his former comrade’s shirt in no time, his stubbly cheek grazed the Howe’s neck. Nathaniel had no intention of being passive; he turned around and stirred the mage to the side, so that Bonnie could have a good look at them both.   Hawke let out a breath she was holding in for too long. They experimented, but she never witnessed Anders in the arms of another man. And what a sight that was! The two focused completely on each other, perhaps allowing themselves a touch of nostalgia.   Nathaniel was certainly not the type to let anyone do the work for him; caught off-guard at first, he quickly enforced his own will. Pulling the healer closer for a deep, not so gentle kiss, he had Anders melt in his grasp. The mage sighed, remembering how good his old comrade was with his tongue. Maker, he missed Nathaniel.   Their kiss ended abruptly when the archer deftly unfastened Anders’ shirt belt, having it fall on the soft carpet. Without much protest, Anders let him pull the comfy shirt off, bringing into light how much the mage has changed; though he was never of solid build, he used to have a more cushion.   But Nathaniel was not about to ruin this moment with pity, Anders was free to make his own decisions and mistakes. He impatiently freed himself of his own garment and embraced the healer. Though he was more bony than Howe remembered, Anders could still flow like water around his partner. He wrapped himself around the archer, caressing all the sensitive spots on his back and neck.   “You know what I want to see?” The mage whispered into his ear. “I’d love to see you two on that big bed of ours. I want you to get her off while I watch.”   Meanwhile, the hostess was squirming with anticipation, waiting for her turn.   “Damn…” She let out under her breath, taking in the whole scene; two gorgeous men undressing each other, kissing like only two former lovers can. Relaxed, unhurriedly, comfortably… and antagonizing slow. She wanted in on that action, feeling like a child in a candy store; undecided which one to take first: the one she knew and enjoyed, or the novelty.   She needn’t perturb herself longer, Nathaniel broke away from Anders and joined her on the bed. Hawke managed to keep herself from giggling like a teen when he took her hand and planted a gentle kiss on it. Though, she was unable to keep from a gasp when he turned it over and traced the veins on her wrist with his lips. She wanted them now, hoping he hadn’t planned to go all the way up her arm. He didn’t. When Bonnie pulled her arm around his waist, he let go of her hand to cup the back of her head and gently push to meet with him.   He was hot, slightly spicy, how she would imagine a dashing Antivan rouge more than a once disgraced Fereldan noble. She pulled herself closer, running her hand through his cheek and hair, Nathaniel responded with a pleased murmur, embracing Hawke tighter. Her chest pressed against his, making him feel how hard her nipples were. Unnaturally, one might say.   “Care to help me?” She asked gingerly, when he retreated with a questioning look.   She lifted her arms, Nate helped her out of the chemise. He loudly sucked air in, seeing her piercings – a pair of silverite rings adorned with detailed feathers hanging on sparkly little chains. Surprised, but not put aback, he brushed his fingertips against the hard nubs, the feathers subtly chimed in response. Bonnie bent back, her pose couldn’t be more inviting.   She cooed softly in response to his teeth and tongue around the sensitive flesh and metal. Nathaniel hadn’t expected this fit warrioress to have such a sweet voice when aroused. He loved when a mate didn’t hide their feelings. Hawke also possessed another trait he loved: initiative. She guided him to lay on his back, then straddled him with a pleased smirk, her weight around his slowly growing erection was pleasantly cushioned by her fine ass.   Anders quietly observed, sitting on the corner of the bed, his voyeur streak kicking in. Watching the two getting it on made him realize he might have a type: black hair, light gray eyes and fair skin. Was it just for aesthetic reasons, or did the masochistic part of him enjoy seeing his lover touched by someone else? She would be better off with a person like Nathaniel. Someone levelheaded, who could give her a normal, solid future, not an apostate destined for doom.   He loved to bring himself down, didn’t he?   He slid on the floor and placed himself between Howe’s legs, unfastening the archer’s pants. He then removed the troublesome smalls. Nate opened his legs welcomingly, still fondling Hawke’s chest between kissing her and letting her mark his neck with quick nibbles. Bon’s ass was getting in the way, Anders bit her cheek as a fair warning. She gasped, looking over her shoulder.   “What about me, I want some too!” She protested, seeing what her darling mage was up to.   “As do I.” The rogue added. “If you could just face the other way, serah, I’d love to have a taste of you.”   She needn’t be told that twice. She quickly turned over, her still clothed crotch almost smothered Nate’s face. But the thin fabric was nothing for his tongue. Relaxing and feeling the two fondle his nethers, he licked Hawke’s slit, her ass wiggled in response.   Meanwhile, Anders got a firm grab of Howe cock and fisted it unhurriedly. Just like he remembered, Nathaniel was shaped perfectly; the length, thickness and curve of the shaft were divine.   “No.” He calmly protested when Bonnie wanted to join in. “Not yet. Besides, don’t you want to see me do it?”   “I do… oh!” She bit her lip when an agile tongue jabbed her entrance through the underwear. Though it met with resistance, it was persistently wetting the fabric.   The mage pulled the foreskin down, giving the already precome glistening tip a welcoming lick. Bonnie watched mesmerized as he relaxed his jaw and went down on the whole thing, to the very base.  The whole time, he maintained eye contact with her, his warm brown eyes sparkling with mischievous pride.   Maker, he was good at this.   Anders sucked and slurped, remembering how he missed giving blowjobs. A sweet tight pussy was something he could never pass up, but feeling a hard throbbing cock in his mouth was equally pleasing. Not only to him, Nathaniel couldn’t hide how much he was enjoying himself, his soft murmur gave the mage familiar goosebumps. But perhaps part of Nate’s fun came from going down on Bonnie.   She watched Anders with a dreamy smile, her eyes glazed. He was always equally giving and taking in bed, incredibly enthusiastic about getting hot and intimate with someone. He played with the shaft, his scruffy cheeks hollowed, he slurped shamelessly, knowing he was driving her and Nathaniel mad.   As for the other Warden, he pulled Hawke’s underthings aside. Her pussy was ridiculously pink, flushed with excitement. The skin was sleek with juices and velvet soft, parting under his tongue. Howe stuck his tongue inside the champion, conjuring a shiver down her back. Hawke cooed, this night was all too perfect to be real.   “Come here, sweetheart.” Her love beckoned, gently pushing the back of her head to meet with Nathaniel’s cock.   Bon was about to show Anders how deep she can take it herself, but with a gentle tug of her hair he signaled her to wait. He smiled and leaned forward a bit. They shared a slow sloppy kiss with the throbbing glans between their tongues. A muffled sigh from under Bonnie’s ass was a clear indication their guest appreciated the thought.   They needn’t use words to describe what they both felt. Joy, love and pure hedonic release after a long hard day away from each other. They withdrew but not after wetting Nate’s whole shaft and abdomen. Hawke let out a giggle, then finally tried her best at deep-throating Nathaniel.   Anders watched her efforts with a smirk, tugging a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She wished she was as good as himself, though she picked up a few tricks from the mage. Like that one she was using right now; slightly curving her tongue and grinding it against the head and gently working her upper teeth on the other side. Yes, just like that, love…   “I want you to mount him.” He said without much thought. “And give him the ride of his life.”   “And what about you?” Bon asked after pulling out Nate’s dick out of her mouth with a moist pop.   “I’ll lick you so good you’ll never forget this night.” He promised.   “And after you’re done, serah Hawke, I’ll demonstrate you what noises your lover makes when he’s bottoming.” The Warden’s voice bore promise of sweet sodomy.   This was all too good to be true! Hawke made a face. Undoubtedly it was a stupid one since Anders snickered. She hurriedly motioned, straddling the archer, Anders between their legs with a perfect view of what was going on.   She wanted it too fast and too deep. The mage cupped her ass, preventing from descending on the delicious shaft too quick, ruining the show. Bonnie bit her tongue, enduring the agonizing pace. Nate’s caress on her hips and back was of some comfort.   Nathaniel took the lead, pumping from below. Anders savored the view; his love being slowly filled by Howe cock. First the reddened tip, then the nicely veined shaft, until she couldn’t take in any more. Her hips moved back and forth, demanding he do something. He leaned forward and licked her clit, still holding her in place.   “Dear maker…” Nathaniel whispered, noticing Hawke’s tattoo. He brushed her hair aside, uncovering the hawk in its full splendor. What surprise would they have in store next? A boudoir of exotic courtesans? He snickered, thrusting slower, but deeper. Serah Hawke moaned, bending back, her muscles tightly squeezing him. Only warriors could have such a strong grip without using hands.   With a two gorgeous Wardens giving her their full attention, Bonnie knew she would never feel this pampered again. She could drop dead because this was the happiest she’d ever be. But a more rational part of her told to show some restraint lest she ends her fun too soon, like a hormone-pumped teenager. She  tried her best not to give in too much to the pleasure of having her pussy fucked by Nate, and her clit grinding against Anders’ tongue, but she was just a human being.   “N-no…! Not yet…” She protested, her voice melting with pleasure and pain of holding it back.   “Shh… It’s alright, love. Just let it go.” Her darling encouraged, his palms massaging her rump.   “Nuh-uh!” She stubbornly uttered, shaking her head like a spoiled brat. The silverite feathers chimed with her every move.   The healer’s smile widened. She was always so vigorous and genuine in bed; living in the moment and wanting to stretch it for as long as she could. Just like himself before Justice. Ah, but despite him wanting to keep Hawke satisfied, he wanted some action for himself. He decided to cheat a bit.   He released her ass to use his hands in a more creative way. Bonnie immediately started rocking and grinding, such a vigorous lass she was. A bit of focus was all he needed to conjure faint sparks to his fingertips. Then he pressed his palms against her womb and groin and pressed it firmly enough to have all his energy transferred into her.   Nathaniel sat up, groping the champion’s chest from behind, keeping up the tempo he commanded. He kissed the side of her neck, his tongue trailed up to her ear, then sunk in. Hawke loudly sucked air in, then convulsed and cried out a surprised ‘oh!’. Then she wanted to curse the prophet Andraste, but her mind already melted away so she fell midsentence into a cry.   Even the most daft lover couldn’t mistake this reaction with anything else; she was coming hard. But how could she be done so sudden? Unless… The murmur from under them gave away the culprit; Anders. A brief tap of his electricity sparkling fingertips on Nathaniel’s thigh revealed the technique he employed. Scoundrel.   The champion lost all her energy, supporting herself against the Warden’s chest. She was going numb, relaxed and exhausted, though she didn’t do that much work. The corner of her mouth was wet, she must have drooled a bit. Maker, she was growing old and senile!   “You’re horrible.” She addressed her lover. “How could you do this to me?”   “Horrible!” He huffed, his eyes still fixed by her pussy stuffed by another man’s cock. “Like helping her with an orgasm was some sort of torture!”   “I didn’t want to come too soon!” She complained. “I wanted to enjoy you two for a bit longer!”   “I see Anders hasn’t changed much.” Nathaniel jumped into the conversation, bending back a bit with her. “He’s still a tease in bed.” He noted, snuggling against her shoulder.   “You are a master at judging character, messere Howe.” Bonne shot her beloved a disapproving look. “But he has some talents.”   “If you’d allow me… I’ll gladly show you some you probably hadn’t seen before.” The archer offered.   The heroine looked over her shoulder. She wanted to say something either sexy or snappy, but still mellowed out and still with Nathaniel inside her, she could only say a slurred ‘uh-uh’.   Anders smiled and licked them both, from his balls to her clit. This was his moment to have some fun.   “Get over here.” Nate commanded, gently laying the hostess at his side and pulling the host up on the bed.

Chapter 2 - The Ropes

Caye considered herself a patient person. Intrigue, schemes and plotted murder required the trait more than anything. Same for picking difficult locks, sneaking around places she wasn’t exactly supposed to be, and stalking selected targets.                                              She felt she was soon going to burst. He hadn’t touched the subject the other day. And the next day. And the day that came after… Finally, he suggested they go on a short holyday to the Pale and enjoy a local custom. She almost moaned when he referred to it as ‘nothing you’ve ever had and will never forget’.   ---   “No! No, noo! I beg you, please stop!” She screamed, felling her skin burn.   “Stop your squirming, I’m going easy on you!” He said, holding her closer, as she was about to slip out of his grasp.   Oh, this was something she would never forget! He took her far up north, deep into the tundra. Then he cracked an airhole through the ice of a small pond and… undressed, then jumper right in.   “Come on!” He urged her to join him. “It’s good for the blood flow!”   “No!” The elf shrugged, slowly motioning away. “I’ll die!”   “Don’t make me come out for you!” Farkas grinned predatorily. “Oh, don’t run!” He called after her, as she started running away. “You should never run from a savage animal, dear! You’ll only encourage it to pursue you!” He gnashed his teeth, getting back on solid ground.   Any bystander in this weather and place would observe in confusion how a huge, naked beast of a Nord chased a petite Dunmer across the snowy wilderness, then forcefully stripped her out of several layers of warm clothing, and dunked with her in ice-cold water.   She felt as if her body was crushed, then burned. She screamed, but he knew how to hold her tightly in place. She would much prefer lashing and humiliation to this freezing torture.   “Relax, try to control your breath.” He said patiently, holding her closer.   “Mercy!” Caye cried, her nails dug into his back.   He laughed, showing no intention of letting go. This was his moment of triumph!   “Okay, here! Something to warm you up!” He reached for the satchel he carried strapped to his armor. He retrieved an opaque bottle, pulled the cork out with his teeth and pressed it to her lips.   She took a gulp and instantly thought her mouth was on fire. She swallowed the burning liquid, coughed, almost unable to breathe, then yelped helplessly. What was that?!   “Orcish moonshine.” He explained, patting her back.   “You want me to go blind, you fiend!” She yelled outraged.   “Fiend!” Farkas laughed. “Okay, missy, that will cost ‘ya. Take a deep breath!”   He dunked in the freezing water and hadn’t resurfaced until she became struggling in a frenzy.   “I want a divorce!” She screamed from the top of her lungs the moment she was able to breathe again.   “I guess you don’t know, that divorce on Skyrim usually involves an axe, love!” He said, giving her a grave look.   “I’ll slap a thunderbolt in your face!” She threatened.   “You’d never do that.” He said with confidence. “I’m the love of your life.”   “No, I’m just with you for your money!” She teased, trying to loosen his grip a bit.   ---   “Ouch.” Vilkas shook his head. “And how did she take it?”   “Not too well. Bit me.” His brother confessed, showing a red bitemark on his cheek.   “You should have taken her to the hot springs in Eastmarch.”   “Those aren’t as good for…” Farkas suddenly fell silent.   “Still nothing?” His twin immediately understood his hesitation.   “Mhm.”   They’ve been married for over a year, and they still hadn’t children. For several months now, the gloves were off, all precautions done away with. And still, nothing. He started fearing his lovely wedded was already pass her time of fertility. Elves were difficult to conceive.   “You’ll get there.” Vilkas comforted. “Now come on, stop being such a baby and let’s get hammered.”   “Almost thought you’d never ask.”   They enjoyed a bit of privacy at the back of the training yard. They hadn’t had the opportunity to spend some time alone in a while.   “So, how you’re doing?” Farkas asked, throwing an empty bottle over the stone wall.   “Same old.”   “So…” He was terrible at trying to talk smooth and manipulate his smarter sibling.   “Yeah?”   “I’ve been thinking… Um…”   “Spit it out already.”   “It’s not that easy. I… um. Need your advice. Personal advice.” He felt hot under his armor.   “Okay. Ask.”   “It’s not that easy.”   “Ysgramor’s hairy balls, we used to double screw Aela, and now you’re embarrassed?”   “Hey, we didn’t talk, look at each other and none of our body parts touched!” The less malicious twin enumerated. “So it wasn’t weird or anything.”   “Not at all. Besides, she started it. She always started it.”   “How are you two getting along, by the way?”   “Don’t change the subject. Just spit it out already.”   “Will you show me how to work ropes?” He said in one gasp.   “What??” Vilkas choked on his drink.   “Oh, come on! I know you’re into that sort of stuff, help me out here!” Farkas begged.   “None of your business how I get my kicks, ask your missus once she gets back!”   “I can’t… I’m the top.”   “What? You? You don’t have what it takes. You’re always so nice and cuddly.” The malicious twin sneered. He still couldn’t believe his sister-in-law had a thing for domination, but his brother being the dom? Ha!   “Imma shove my fist down your throat, how’s that cuddly for ‘ya?”   “Okay, okay. But this stays between you and me, right?”   “Like I’d share with anyone!”   “You sure about this?”   “I want my lady to be happy. And safe while we’re at it.” He swore, bowing his head.   “Okay, let’s just find a willing practice dummy…” Vilkas peered into the night sky. Judging from the position of the moons, it should be midnight. “Torvar should be wasted by now.”   “Torvar??” Farkas twitched disgusted.   “We’re going to tie him up, not give him an Imperial Ponyride. Come on, let’s go scoop him from under the table. Don’t forget the booze.”   ---   “And then you pull this end like so… But be sure to slip it this end out of the loop, or you’ll end up strangling her. In general, be careful around the throat and neck…” Vilkas instructed, tying a complicated knot around unconscious Torvar.   “I was on his place more than once, muffin.”   “I bet you did. Thank you for ruining my sleep for the upcoming week. Now, she’s got slender ankles and wrists, be sure to use this type of knot…” he tied the drunken whelp tight, “… or she’ll slip out of your bonds in a blink. Just not too tight, the blood must keep flowing. If you plan to keep her standing, make sure she won’t suddenly lose control of her legs and hurt herself. Always have a knife or shears handy, in case you’ll need to untie her fast.”   “I’ll remember that.”   “Right. Now, some knots are meant for discomfort… I’m sure you did that…”   “Uh-oh.” Farkas looked away.   “Do you need to take a break? Drink some warm milk?”   “Bite me!”   “Okay, okay, calm down. You’ve never taken the dominant role, so just a bit of advice… Don’t gag her. It’s best she immediately tells you if something’s wrong. And not sure if it’s your thing, but no asphyxiation games.”   “I’m not into that stuff.” He refuted. “You think it’s a good idea? You said I don’t have what it takes…”   “I was just teasing. You might actually pull this one off. Your patience is boundless.” Vilkas sighed.   A good dom knows how to control the game, the bottom… and mostly himself. The dominant one should always know when to stop, and what’s best for the submissive side. Well… his relationship with Ria started a bit crazily, then was going on smoothly… only to end sharply. It was one thing to abuse her a bit and give her a healthy dose of humiliation… But he went too far and wounded her pride and sense of honor. Long story short, she gave him a piece of her mind and severed all intimate ties. A while later, Aela accepted him back… And has been making him her bitch ever since.    “Okay. I’ll get back to you with any questions once I get back from Windhelm. I got a small job there, some asshole is causing trouble.”   “Go get ‘em.”   “Will do.”   “Wha…? Is this some sort of initiation to the Circle? Because if it is, I want out!” Torvar cried as he regained consciousness.   ---   The job went smoothly, he gave the guy a decent beating, hard enough to make him realize this was serious, and light enough to also make it clear it was only business. He was about to head back home, but heavy snowfall delayed his plans. He spent a day at the inn, enjoying food and drink, with the occasional friendly armwrestle with the locals.   He left late in the evening, as he managed to offer his service as an escort of a small carriage in exchange for transportation. On his way to the city gate he heard someone shout ‘thief!’ nearby. It wasn’t his business, and he was tired, but duty took over. With a curse, he headed that direction.   Quick footsteps were getting closer and closer. On a hunch, he sunk back into the shadows in the alley close to the Hall of the Dead. The thief appeared soon. It was a female, clad in dark leather armor with a hood. As she was close, he reached out and grabbed her throat. The thief gasped surprised, then in pain when he pushed her against the wall. A bag with her loot slipped out of her hand.   “Caye!” He whispered surprised as he looked under the hood. His grip on her throat immediately loosened.   She coughed spasmodically, but went silent as the pursuit ran into the alley. They both remained in place, their eyes fixed on each other. The guards and a frantic man, no doubt the victim, passed them by.   “What are you…?” She shuttered petrified.   “On a job. You?” He grunted, shaking off surprise.   He knew his wife had been dealing with the Guild, but he never saw her in action. It came to him in its full impact, that his lady was among many things, a thief.   “On a job.” Caye confessed. Gods, she felt shame for being a thief for the first time in her life.   “Great. Not going to happen.” He said, holding her by the shoulders. Her gaze shifted from his face onto the pavement. “No!” He warned, kicking away the bag with the loot. “You’re lucky I’m letting you go. This stays with me.”   “Treasure…”   “Get out of Windhelm. Tell your Riften friends you screwed up. Then get back home. I’ll decide what to do with you by then.”   With that, he released her and stepped away. He took the bag and left the alley without looking back.   The elf slid to her knees, her hands were shaking. Gods, the way he looked at her. It wasn’t just disapproval, it was the feeling of betrayal.

Chapter 3 - Guilty Pleasures

“Botched the job? You?” Brynjolf whistled bewildered, weighting the coinpurse with the fine. “You’re losing your edge it that cozy mead hall of yours, lass. I told you you’d be far better off here with us in Riften.”   For a second Caye wondered why she made the redhead the new Guildmaster. Oh, right… she didn’t want the job herself. She already had a retort on the tip of her tongue, but decided to remain silent. She had to play it cool, but her thoughts constantly drifted to home.   The rogue’s eyes shifted from his favorite protégé to a mounted head just above the entrance to the Guild’s treasury. The tepid air done it little damage, it was still clear it was the previous Guildmaster’s head. Brynjolf shrugged.   “Why do you insist we keep it here?” He asked, looking away.   Caye remembered the exhilarating moment she decapitated Mercer. She smiled slightly, the rogue suddenly felt cold.   “Do you know I consider myself a rather fortunate person?” She asked seemingly irrelevant, giving the morbid trophy a closer look. Mercer will soon need some combing and more preservative infusions.   “Oh?”   “In all my life… And let’s just say I am young for an elf, but lived far beyond the capabilities of men… In all my years I have never hated anyone. Yes, I despised certain individuals, plotted against many, disposed of more than a handful… But I’ve never felt pure, blinding hate. The type that makes you want to kick, spit, bite and scratch. No, I hated people’s foolishness, lack of character, pettiness and the likes. But never despised a person to their very essence. That was until I met Mercer Frey.”   Brynjolf remembered the moment he entered the Guild’s treasury… only to find it picked clean. Yes, he could relate to her feelings.   “He insulted me.” She went on without encouragement. “He insulted my skills, my intelligence, my experience. I wasn’t bothered that he almost killed me, many tried before. But he played me and utterly humiliated as a professional. I did not take that well.”   “I know. I was there.”   “Then I’m rambling.” Caye collected herself. “I keep him up there, because aside from crude satisfaction I get from looking at him whenever I visit, he sends a clear message.”   “And what message is that?”   “You tell me.” She replied. “I’ll be stuck in Whiterun for a longer while. “She said reluctantly. “There’s an… urgent matter I must see to.”   “Trouble in paradise?” Brynjolf asked with a smirk. He was one of the few Guild members who knew she was married.   “Do you want to join Mercer? Give Karliah my regards. If any trouble arises, contact me the usual way.” She said as a farewell.   Caye left Riften with her pride wounded. Well, to Oblivion with him! She had other problems. Like the love of her life catching her red-handed. The embarrassment she felt when he found her naked and tied up to their bed one evening, was nothing compared to the burning feeling she felt now.   ---   The trip was unbearable. She hurried, then intentionally delayed as not to prove herself how much did she panic. She arrived in Whiterun at dawn a few days later. She couldn’t decide whether to head straight home, or towards Jorrvaskir. Finally, she entered Breezehome.   “Welcome home.” She heard immediately after passing the doorstep.   “Oh!” she squeaked.   “Took your sweet time. I was hoping you’ll get here a day earlier” Farkas said from where he was sitting; on his favorite chair close to the fire. The house originally had a cooking spit in the center of the room, but they spent a lot of money on setting a solid stone fireplace to the right from the entrance.   “I’m sorry.” She sighed. “I suppose you want an explanation.”   “No.” He interrupted, getting off the chair. He approached and rested his palms on her shoulders, their foreheads bumped. “I’ve been thinking. A lot. And I realized something. When I married you I also married your vices. Some I knew of, and some I discovered later. Regardless, you’re still my wife and I’d do anything to protect you. So, your dirty secrets are safe with me.”   “Farkas…”   “No talking.” He reprimanded. “We agreed we’d give each other space, have lives outside our marriage. That’s a good thing. Then, I’m not going to judge. I trust you aren’t completely depraved. So don’t make excuses, because I accept you with all your messed up weaknesses.”   “I’m still sorry.”   “No, you’re not.”   “I am!” She protested. “I’m not sorry for my unlawful ways, but I am so incredibly sorry I made you feel betrayed. I truly am.”   “I believe you.” He said, after a moment of consideration. “And I’ll soon forgive you. But there is still the matter of punishment.”   “What kind of… punishment?”   “The one you deserve.” He sat back. “Come here.”   She obeyed. As she approached, her husband made himself comfortable, his massive laps straddled. She assumed it meant he wanted her on her knees.   “No, no. I don’t want any of that.” He said when she got on all fours. “Over my knee.”   Caye bend over, her chest and pelvis rested on both his laps. Farkas stroked her back in silence, surprised she trembled. He had time to think things over, and knew he had to carry his plans out now, without hesitation.   He suddenly grabbed her by the hair and kept in place, whilst sharply pulling her pants and underwear down. He raised his hand, then slapped her behind with merciless momentum. She screamed, but didn’t fight. Blood rushed to her head, as he gave her a hard spanking.   “Damn it, woman, don’t I give you enough?! Must you break my heart with your thieving? I’d do anything to make you happy, but apparently it’s not enough!” He groaned angrily, though didn’t smack harder than necessary, keeping a firm grip of himself.   His wife bit her palm painfully hard, saliva dripped from the corner of her mouth. Her cheeks burned, pulsing with sharp pain. “Gods, don’t stop now!” She thought.   “Well? What do you want me to do, to keep you satisfied? I’m not a damned wealthy man, my devotion is all I can give you!”   “It’s not about the money!” She cried. His hand stopped. “It never was. I couldn’t care less about gold and trinkets.”   “Then why do you do it?”   “Because I can. And I’m damned good at it.” She boasted breathlessly. Looking over her shoulder, her empty eyes were wide opened. “It makes me feel alive, awake! I love planning a heist and the thrill I might be caught. It makes me happy as much as fighting gives you satisfaction. I’m not doing this because I feel you’re neglecting me. Damn it, you’ve never made me feel unloved or unimportant!”   He was silent for a longer moment, gently stroking her irritated skin. She wiggled impatiently, but he didn’t spank her anymore.   “Then, I have no choice, but to accept you as you are.” He decided with a sigh. To her demise, he let go of her hair.   “Should… I go to the cellar now?” She asked confused. Their cellar, another modification of the original house layout, had a hidden room where they practiced their erotic games every once in a while.   “No. Pull your pants up, I’m done with you… for now.” He declined tiredly.   “But…!”   “No means no. You should never play the game if you bear any grievance with the other, remember? Your words exactly.”   “Y… yes, you’re right.” She agreed, embarrassed she was so eager, that she forgot all about the rules and safety measures. “I’m sorry.”   “You say that too often.”   “It’s because you’re the conscience I’ve never asked for, treasure.” She confessed solemnly.

Chapter 5 - Bad Kitty

The room hadn’t changed since Farkas became a married man. The few personal belongings that remained were closely associated with his work. It was a healthy attitude; separating your personal life from business.   On his old bed was a package wrapped in simple linen sheets. She sat on the bed’s edge, eying the unknown gift. The simple, narrow frame creaked. She smirked, remembering how the two of them could make it creak those few intense nights after their engagement.   She placed the package on her laps. It was tied with a plain leather strap. Stroking the material, she wondered what sort of surprise did he come up with. Faintly, she was still aware of the clamps, their weight and the stress their metal jaws had on her flesh. The pain oscillated somewhere at the back of her mind, slowly settling in, whilst she fought curiosity and anxiety.   “Oh, pish-posh!” She took a grip of herself. “One would think I’m a shy maiden!”   With quick, precise movements she unfolded the package. Inside was a set of expensive lingerie. She felt her cheeks sting as she blushed. It was a fine set of traditional Dunmer temple dancer dress associated with the cult of Almalexia.   “How did he get a hold of this?” She asked out loud, unfolding the outfit in front of her.   The pale gold material was fine silk, with accents of metallic crimson. Paper-thin, it was tailored by a master craftsman, no doubt about it. The copper and golden accessories that came with it were perfectly polished, sparkling in the dim light.   She glanced at the door, fearful someone could be peeking on her, but it was closed and she was alone. She wasn’t a prude and was comfortable with her desires, even though she never flaunted them, but suddenly felt strange embarrassment.   He must be home now, preparing things for tonight and laughing his arse off! Well… She knew what she asked for, she had no right to complain.   Caye neatly folded the dancer outfit and wrapped back in the linen sheets. She had some pampering to do, time was running short and she already had a list of things to check off. On her way she bumped into her brother-in-law.   “What’s the hurry?” He asked, as she rammed herself into his chest.   The elf hissed, as on impact the clamps painfully reminded of themselves. Thankfully, her chest was covered with the package she was clutching.   “I have no time for chit chatter.” She replied briefly.   “Are you alright?” Vilkas raised his brow, noticing she was not as prim and proper today.   “Aren’t you curious!” She exclaimed, suddenly realizing she was still red in the face. “I have things to do and arrangements to make, so if you’ll excuse me…” She tried to slip by.   “Preparing for something… special?” He asked, cutting her off. His wolfish grin exposed his sharp canines.   He knew! How?! Of course, who else could give her husband tips if not his malevolent brother! Oh, and the look on his smug face! Even though he and Farkas were twins, Caye never lusted for Vilkas. Of course, she found him an attractive man, but if the two of them would ever find themselves lost on a deserted island, she’d sooner eat him, than sleep with him.   “I don’t have time for this!” She squeaked annoyed.   “My, my, Harbinger, did I make you feel uncomfortable?”   “You’ll have to forgive me, but I do not dispute with men who wear more make-up than me, and whose skirt is frillier than mine! I go!” She snapped, making a dash.   “It’s not a skirt, it’s armor!!” She heard him roar.   Fighting the urge to verbally spar with him a tad more, she retreated to her study. There, she ordered a bath and a light dinner. Nibbling on a roasted capon, the elf slipped into the wooden tub. The water was hot, just like she loved it. She bit her lip, submersing herself all the way to her cleavage. Her nipples were throbbing, the clamps heated up as well. Removing them for just a moment was tempting, but she dared not disobey.   Caye licked her fingers, savoring the last bite of her feast, Thilma knew how to stuff capon. Sadly, the reliable servant was growing old with each passing day, they should find someone to help her and eventually take her place. Come to think of it, there was an orphan girl wandering near the Temple of Kynareth. Orphans did make excellent servants, their sense of gratitude was stronger than Skyforge steel.   She dunked in the water and bobbed up after a longer moment to shoo those thoughts away. This was her time! She shouldn’t think about pragmatic, menial things. She wondered what was her other half up to now. Moreover, she was dying to know what was he going to wear. He never enjoyed bizarre costumes, or too much accessories, preferring to simply be naked, maybe with a collar or a pair of cuffs, but cringing on the very idea of wearing too much leather and spikes.   The temple harlot outfit was stretched over the chair, a bottle with golden nail paint and a small jar with gold eye dust were on the desk. The Dunmer planned to oil her skin, scent her hair and paint her face and nails, just like he wanted. Finally, she intended to slip into the lingerie. She would have some time left, so she could enjoy a bit of reading, something light and sultry. Yes, that would be nice…   ---   It was getting dark, long shadows loomed over Whiterun. A little figure sprinted down the stairs from the upper district to the marketplace, passed the now empty stalls, and headed towards the lower class residential area.   She felt warmth in her chest and a ball of ice in her belly. Soon, in just a few minutes, she’s going to come home and be welcomed by her love. She was a bit anxious. After all, he had no experience as the dominant one. But she was sure he made all necessary preparations, and hadn’t neglected safety measures.   She stood before her door. Bother, she forgot her key! No matter, she had a lockpick and knew the lock to her house like the back of her hand. The pick slipped into the keyhole and gently tilted right, then a bit left, then…   The door swooped open. Caye toppled, as she was leaning on it to get a better angle. She was quickly caught and pulled into the house before suffering a fall.   “Old habits die hard?” She heard a sigh of disapproval.   Her treasure closed the door, still holding her close to his chest. Without a word, she let the lockpick slide back into the sewed-in pocket in her sleeve.   “I forgot my key.” She quickly explained.   “Right…” Farkas still didn’t approve.   He hadn’t his war paint on. Without it, his eyes seemed smaller and his gaze less intimidating. He also did the unthinkable; got a shave and combed his hair. His jaw was the essence of Nordic, just like his brow. He looked like a completely different person after some grooming. This was a nice change, however she preferred his more brutish everyday look.   To her demise, his clothes were simple and practical; dark-brown linen pants with a wide studded belt and a white, short-sleeved shirt with a laced-up front. To top it all up, he wore hide bracers and cuffed boots. Well, his attire didn’t particularly demand respect, but on the other hand, it hadn’t constrained him in the slightest and was easy to take off.   “Something wrong?” He asked, after allowing her to gawk for a moment.   “I expected you to wear something more… fetching.” She admitted.   “Oh, really?” His brow rose. “How nice of you.”   “Well, I hoped…”   Before she could say what she had in mind, his hand closed firmly on her mouth and jaw. It didn’t hurt her in the slightest, but her jaws were shut tight. His grip was solid, she couldn’t move her head or pull away.   “Love, don’t speak unless spoken to.” Farkas said sternly, but calmly. “I’d hate to discipline you, because believe me, it’ll hurt me more than you if I’ll be forced to put you back in line. And I’d hate to hurt you more than necessary.” His grip relaxed, but his rough palm was still on her lips. “Now, I know you’re smart and won’t cause me any trouble. Right?” He asked, letting her go.   “Yes, I’m sorry.” She apologized, feeling blood rushing faster through her head. She knew he could yank her jaw if he’d want to. But he would never do that.   “I’m sorry, daddy.” He corrected with a smug grin. “That’s how you’re going to call me tonight.”   Caye bit her tongue. Daddy? How embarrassing! Was she a silly little goose to call a man like that? How degrading! He knew she’ll find this an insult to her own intelligence! He…   “I’m sorry… daddy.” She said obediently, bowing her head.   “It’s alright.” He replied, stroking her cheek. “You look pretty.”   “Thank you.”   “Did you like your present?” He inquired.   “Yes, I love it.” She answered truthfully. Before leaving, she took a look at herself in the mirror and she looked stunning.   “I’m not convinced.” He sighed, turning around. She remained in place, he sat in his favorite chair. He snickered, pleased to see she was waiting for him to give an order.   He prepared everything in their special room and went over the scenario with all the possible complications. It took time, but he hoped he remembered everything and was ready to give her some of her own medicine. With all his love and tenderness.   “If you plan to stand like that, we might as well call it a night and go to bed.” He finally said. “I get the impression you’re not In the mood. Are you?”   “I was thinking about you the whole day.” She protested, but dared not raise her voice.   “That’s nice to hear.” He smiled warmly, then leaned back. “Enough with the chit-chatter. Strip for daddy.”   She pouted her lips, brushing her hair back. He liked it loose, she felt more comfortable fashioning it in waterfall braids. She always loved to undress for him, better yet be undressed by him. She’s going to give him a show. After all, it would be a crime if the dancer outfit would go to waste.   Farkas lounged, observing his little lady bending forward, running her hands down her waist and hips. Gaining some weight wouldn’t hurt her. The only thing she should lose was the damned robe.   “Don’t rush.” He patiently said. “I want to enjoy you to the fullest.”   The elf undressed and posed for him, progressively building up the heat. The dancer outfit fitted her perfectly, the open bra and also open panties showed off her goods. Though seventy years older, she was still young in elven terms.   She moved with elegance, the only thing missing was music. The steady fire in the hearth was the only sound in the house. She got on all fours, and arched her back. Like a kitten ready to play, Caye crawled up to the chair, she brushed her head against his leg, then rested on his lap.   “I always wanted to have a kitten.” He remembered, stroking her hair. “But cats seem to hate me. But you’re a good kitten, aren’t you?”   “Meow?” She stared at him wide-eyed. He could see his reflection in her empty eyes.   He scratched her chin, she bend her head back, exposing her throat and neckline. Her palms rested on his knees for support. Pleased, she closed her eyes. So, he had a pet fetish? She could work with that. After all, she treated him like her dog more than once. Why not be his playful kitten?   “Keep your eyes closed.” She heard his hoarse whisper. It was good she was already on her knees; his voice always made them weak.   He stopped caressing her chin. She waited with anticipation. Farkas shifted on the chair. She felt warmth close to her face just before he gave her a light kiss. She wanted more, deeper, but he quickly backed away.   He reached down to her breasts. Her nipples were weighted down with the steel clamps, the skin was tender and swollen around them.   “You’re such a cute kitten. I’d hate to see you run off somewhere. Luckily, I’m prepared.”   He reached for something he had in his pocket. There was a quiet snap, as he attached two snap-links to the loops of her clamps. The other end was a thin velvet leash.   “Ah!” She opened her eyes and gasped surprised, when he gently tugged.   “Eyes closed.” He reprimanded, pulling sharper.   His wife firmly shut her eyes, clinging to his laps. She mewled in pain, but she couldn’t fool him; her body gave away she was enjoying the hurting. Her ass wiggled, her asscheeks clenched and relaxed in a steady rhythm. He already had plans for her behind.   “Come on” he said, getting up. She slipped off his laps, but thankfully didn’t hurt herself; the leash’s length was sufficient.   She was smart enough to remain on her knees and follow him to the cellar. He halted as they reached the stairs. She brushed against his leg before sitting on her soles, waiting what will her top decide to do.   “Are the big, scary stairs too much for my kitten?” He joked, seeing her hesitation.   In response Caye laid on the floor and rolled on her back. She felt red-hot needles piercing her breasts, but endured.   “You know, it’s probably best I carry you.” He decided after a moment of consideration.   He reached to pick her up. And as any moody cat, the Dunmer caught his arm between her knees, grabbed his hand, and bit the side of it. Farkas hissed.   “Bad kitty!” He shouted, kneeling and forcefully rolling her on her stomach.   He grabbed her nape and pressed her cheek to the floor. He then took a wide swing and slapped her ass. Involuntarily, she cried like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He unceremoniously took her in his arms and carried down, shooting her a deadly glare. She purred, rubbing her cheek against his. His skin was already rough, even though he shaved in the morning.   “No treats for you.” He stated, opening the secret door to their playroom.   “Mrrr?” Caye purred, biting his ear.   She took the liberty to look around. He was busy. Most unnecessary items were gone, the room was now more spacious. He planned to play it simple, apparently.   “Daaaddy, where are my toys?” She pouted, seeing her bed and other contraptions were also gone.   “You’ll get them back, don’t worry.” He assured, putting her down.   He wrapped his arms around her. She was crushed in a tight embrace. She exhaled, her breasts were pressed firmly against his chest. She sunk her nails in his lower back to signal he was smothering her. The grip lessened.   “You know I’d never hurt you on purpose?” He asked, seeking confirmation.   “Of course!” She replied truthfully. He hadn’t a violent nature and never liked to engage in fights with people close to him. His kind, calm attitude was what she loved the most about him.   “Alright” he was relieved. “Let me just take these off.”   He unsnapped the clamps and put them away along with the leash. Now did she realize what a torture those were. She rested her palms on the small table behind her, pushing her chest forward. Her fingers met with something cold: it was a bowl of ice. Farkas fished out two ice cubes and rolled them around her nipples. That was exactly what she needed!   He marveled at the ice melting against her hot skin, droplets streaming down her lovely breasts. Her nipples were erect and swollen as if she was nursing. The thought of her breasts full of milk made him harden.   “Thank you, daddy.” She cooed with relief.   “I look after my girl.” He said, leaning to kiss her on the forehead.   She pulled the hem of his shirt, it was unfair she was wearing so little and he was fully dressed.   “Hm?” He raised a brow. “Impatient, aren’t we?”   She nodded. Her man pulled his shirt over his head. Dear Azura, no matter how many times she saw him do that, seeing him shirtless always made her mouth feel moist. She swallowed.   Farkas didn’t waste his time on words. He guided her to bend over the table and outstretch her arms. He stepped to the other side of the table and from the floor he picked up a long coil of dark red rope. He hoped he remembered everything his brother taught him, he didn’t want her to break loose or hurt her wrists. Carefully and patiently, he tied her wrists together, then bound the rest of the rope to the table’s front legs. It was a square, solid piece of carpentry, bolted to the floor, there was no chance of it toppling over.   Caye relaxed, her cheek rested on the wood. This was nice, he knew what he was doing. The knot was firm, but didn’t stop the blood from flowing. The rope itself was soft and the thickness just right. She realized the only person who could have taught him how to tie a professional knot like that, was his twin. She crinkled her nose, her brother-in-law was the last thing she should be preoccupied with now.   Sudden coolness around her asshole ended her stream of thoughts. She jerked to look over her shoulder, but couldn’t; the knot was short. The only result was the table’s edge painfully pressing against her hipbone. What was that? The ice!   “You know, I think this is the perfect opportunity to push our relationship another step forward.” He proposed, running the cube between her buns. “Like for instance, explore the one place I haven’t been in.”   Her butt immediately clenched. With a laugh, he groped her ass and spread the cheeks open.

Chapter 1 - Young Hero

 “B-but you said you…!” The Redguard girl clutched her satchel. Her cheeks were burning with shame, her gut felt as if she had a huge block of ice inside.   “Oh, honey…” The rogue sighed almost embarrassed.   What foolish creatures young women were! All he had to do was butter her up for a few days and she practically begged she ‘escapes’ with him, carrying off with her father’s life savings. What the lass didn’t expect was his band of merry cutthroats, waiting for her (and her money) in the snowy woods east of Solitude. The look on her face was priceless.   “You used me!” She cried. Anger and betrayal mixed in a ragged whimper. Her shockingly blue eyes were burning.   “No, I haven’t… yet. But don’t worry, by the end of the night you will truly understand what being used really feels like.” The deceitful Nord grinned, getting off from the stone he was occupying. The Dunmer and Imperial that accompanied him surrounded the girl. Only her left was opened, leading straight into the dark woods.   She had to think fast. She bolted, throwing the satchel behind, hoping to slow them down. Curses followed, they weren’t giving up that easily.   She pushed self-loathe aside. She wanted something better, adventure and romance. Instead, she got… No! This wasn’t final, she could escape. Father is going to be furious with her… Later, she’ll worry about it later.   As with all Redguards, her feet were swift, but she couldn’t outrun an elf. After a few moments, a gray arm was slung over her waist. The Dunmer threw her against a tree trunk, snow fell from the pine branches. She screamed, but who would hear her in this time of night, so far away from the city?   “Do it again, my little dove.” The elf laughed amused and aroused. He brutally shoved his knee between her legs, getting a good grip on her throat.   “Fuck you…!” She managed to gasp out. A feisty one!   “Watch your tongue, honey” he ran his dagger up her skirt, the plain dark-green wool was cut like paper. “Now, you won’t bite, right? There are three of us, you got three holes… Did your ma teach you math?”   “What’s taking you so long?!” The Nord ringleader’s impatient voice could be heard from afar, back in their camp. “I swear, if you want her ass all for yourself, you…” the sentence ended in a gruesome yell.   “What in Oblivion?” The elf grunted. It seemed they weren’t alone. “Did someone follow you, you little cunt?” He hissed, almost choking her. The girl shook her head, desperately fighting for air. Her legs felt numb, her eyes rolled back.   He took a step back and forced her to bend forward. His knee plunged into her stomach, the girl fell to the ground with a grunt.   “Mother…!” She groaned, curling into a ball.   “Stay here, bitch. Move, and I’ll cut your tits off!” The elven bandit threatened, heading back to the camp.   Halfway through, he stumbled upon a tree stump. No, wait. It was… a head. Shit, it was the boss! He called out for the Imperial.   “Get over here you fool!” Was the response. “Son of a bitch took the boss out!”   “I know, idiot!” The Dunmer thought, reaching for his bow. The head was cut off clean, which could only mean one thing; an axe.   It was actually a good thing. Axemen were lethal, but slow. With an arrow readied, he snuck back to the campsite, mindful of any twigs or more gore.   The ebony axe carried by the Nord assailant was impressive, the price he could fetch for it… And since the boss was gone… The Imperial wasn’t holding on either. Yes, a good aim, one clean shot and he could spend this night with the little bitch and sell the axe for a handsome price the next day.   “Hurry up!” The Imperial called for him, dodging another swing. Damn, that bastard knew how to use that thing and keep his balance.   But the evasion left the Imperial off guard. The Nord got behind him with surprising swiftness and caught his neck behind his weapon’s handle. He pulled sharply, breaking the Imperial’s neck. The Dunmer risked and released the arrow the exact same moment his comrade died.   The vigilante used the dead bandit as a meat-shield, the arrow hit just below the collarbone. A cold, steady gleam was in the Nord’s eyes as he proceeded to approach the elf, still hidden behind the Imperial, whose mace and shield somehow staid in his grasp.   “That’s it! That’s it! Come at me, little hero!” The Dark Elf dared, switching back to his dagger. This was meant to be up close and personal.   The axeman didn’t get provoked. His brows crossed, but his face remained focused and cool. The elf could see his eyes set on him. He grunted, swishing the blade in the air to show he meant business.   The body of his fallen comrade was unexpectedly flung towards him, he dashed away, for a second losing his opponent between the tree trunks. He also hid behind one of the trees, somewhere in the distance he could hear the tricked girl whimper.   He heard movement. He jumped from behind the tree ready to cut the little hero’s eyes out. But instead of the Nord, he found a bay horse standing in the middle of the woods.   Cold steel pressed against his throat. There was no taunting, no last words. The Nord pulled the length of Skyforge steel against his throat. The elf’s face hit the snow, a black puddle bloomed under his severed artery.   The girl could breathe again. Hearing approaching footsteps, she got up on her feet, but tripped and crawled away like a wounded critter. She looked over her shoulder. She didn’t know who that man was, but in the light of Nirn’s twin moons she could see his red hair, clear blue eyes and a scar on his left cheek. Gods, what did he want with her?   “Can you walk?” Erik asked, there was no trace of emotion in his voice. He just wanted a straight answer. He took the slurs that spouted from her mouth as confirmation. He threw the girl’s satchel between her feet. “Solitude is that way.” He said, pointing at the city’s direction.   The lass quickly took off, clutching the satchel and crying. He ignored her, he was experienced enough to know they seldom acted grateful. It was good she didn’t pass out or puke herself, he was too tired to play rescuer.   He got back to the bandit corpses, looted what little there was of value and then got back to their camp. His mare was waiting patiently near the warm bonfire.   “Good girl.” He said warmly, patting her on the side of the neck. “Now let’s see if they have anything good to eat.”   The Gods smiled upon him, as the bandits had a stew brewing. And from the smell he determined it was pork, not skeever.   “I got more luck than brains” he said with a bitter laugh.   There was enough to feed two or more people. But he was alone. It was almost a month since that bitch Aza left him on his own in Markarth.

Chapter 4 - Big Tease

 “My work is never done…” Caye thought, going through Jorrvaskir’s books. None of the warriors had the time and patience to handle logistics, thus the task was left to her. They needed to order fresh kegs of mead and make sure the roof s repaired before autumn.   She shifted more comfortably on the cushion she had under her sore behind. Her man had a heavy hand, her ass-cheeks were still sore. And speaking about feeling sore, her pussy just kept demanding attention. She rocked her pelvis back and forth, but felt little relief.   Aela boldly walked into the Harbinger’s quarters.   “I hate to interrupt your leisure time, but I have a favor to ask.” She said, heavily sitting on the chair next to the desk.   “You have strange ideas of leisure!” Caye sneered. “What can I do for you?” She asked, putting the papers away.   “I need… some gear.” Aela said hesitantly.   “Can’t Eorlund fit you out?”   “No, I don’t think so.” The Huntress was red under her war paint. “I need… special gear.”   “Azura!” The Dunmer instantly realized the hidden message. “Honestly, will domination and bondage soon become a regular part of training around here?”   “Bite me!” Aela was about to leave.   “No, stay.” Caye got up as well, but with a hiss she sat back down.   “You okay, little one?”   “Better than ever. Just a bit sore.”   “Ha! Farkas finally put his foot down?”   “More like his palm. But it’s you we’re talking about, my dearest.” Caye smiled calmly.   “Yea… I was thinking… I want to give it a shot. You know… So Vilkas will finally shut up.”   The Harbinger remained silent, wanting for the Huntress to start explaining herself.   “He’s an ass with an oversized ego, but I’ve known him for so many years. He’s healthy, resourceful and loyal. And despite the fact he couldn’t handle the beastblood and got himself clean, he can still give me strong, bold children. Besides, I’m not getting any younger.”   “Have you purchased your Amulet from Riften yet?” The elf couldn’t resist.   Aela pinched her nose and pulled painfully hard.   “Just because you’re the Harbinger, doesn’t mean I won’t put you down a notch, little rascal!” She threatened.   “Mercy! I submit!”   “Good, that’s what I like to hear!” Aela let go and paced around the room.   “Don’t you think it’s a bit boring? Both of us married to one of the twins?” The Dunmer inquired, rubbing her nose.   “I’m not married to anyone! I’m just considering the options.”   “Of course.” Caye relished on the moment. Over a year ago, she was in Aela’s place and the straightforward warrioress pestered her about her own intentions. “Forgive my intrusion.”   “You needn’t pretend you’re not enjoying teasing me.” Aela kicked a wall.   “We’re getting off track. I will be glad to share my resources and knowledge with you. Question is, when?”   “Soon.” Aela said vaguely.   “Does he know you want to taste this type of filth?”   “No” he Huntress grinned unsettlingly. “I’ll surprise him.”   “I see… I’ll make sure to thoroughly discuss safety measures with you.”   “Thanks. I’ll be going now.” The Nord woman turned to the exit. “I’m going hunting. I guess you’ll remain in the safety of your study?”   “You know well my feelings about grim and bugs.” Caye said with dignity.   “Wuss. I’ll be sure to bring you some rabbit skins, if I shoot any. They’ll compliment you nicely.” With that, she left.   The petite elf sighed, playing with the abacus. Things were starting to get… interesting. But this wasn’t the time to dwell on intimate and perverse matters, she had some calculations to do.   “Did you need anything else?” She asked, hearing a knock on the doorframe. “Oh.” She bend back in her chair, seeing it was her husband.   “You that sore?” He asked, noticing the cushion under her rump.   “Mayhap I’m too short to reach my papers?” She felt a bit of sarcasm wouldn’t hurt.   “Suffer. You deserved it.” He said indifferently, occupying the same chair Aela sat in just a second ago.   “If only you’d do something more, than just put me in line, treasure…”   “Keep talking, and I won’t show you the nice things I got you.” He warned.   “What kind of… nice things?” She felt a sudden heat flash.   “Oh, you’re going to love ‘em!” His light blue-gray eyes narrowed.   He got up and stood behind her. She wanted to see what he was up to, but with a gentle stroke on the cheek, he turned her head to face the desk. His palms rested on her shoulders, giving them a massage. She relaxed, letting him work out some of her recently accumulated tension.   “Draw the line.” He purred, brushing his rough cheek against her neck.   “No… no spitting. Don’t grab me by the throat. And don’t slap me in the face.” She conditioned. “Please.” She added humbly.   Did that mean the game was on starting now? But… here? In Kodlak’s old study? No, of course not, neither of them would feel comfortable frolicking on the previous Harbinger’s bed. Not to mention there were others in the living quarters.   “Starting word is ‘trinket’. Safety word is ‘larceny’.” He revealed, unlacing her robe’s collar and front. “Be good and put your hands where I can see them. And no peeking.”   She rested her palms on the desk, breathing deep and slow. She could feel his bulk from behind. His warmth and smell were comforting as always, though she was anxious what he had planned.   Her robes were modest, comfortable and loose-fitting. With just a pull of the lacing, Farkas exposed what she wore underneath; a simple cotton bra.   “I hoped you’d wear something more eye-catching for me.” He said disappointed, resting his head on her shoulder. He pulled one of the straps, then released with a snap. “No matter, I got that covered.”   She wanted to say something snappy, but bit her tongue. The dom was talking, she shouldn’t interrupt.   “What, you don’t want to cooperate?”   “It’s not that.” Her voice raised, as he nibbled on her neck and shoulder. “I’m just sinking in the mood.”   “I’m glad. Bend a bit forward, I hate working those straps of yours without seeing what I’m doing.”   Caye sighed, bending forward as he undid her bra, then disposed of it somewhere. Her breasts were small, but perky and firm. She squeaked, as he groped them, his steel gauntlets were cold. But she didn’t move, obediently awaiting instructions.   He enjoyed playing with her titties, before releasing and reaching into his satchel, where he had one of the toys he prepared for this occasion.   “What…?” Caye felt something metallic sliding down her shoulder, then encircling her nipple. It was an all too familiar sensation. She looked down; in her man’s hand was a small gadget made of steel and adorned with garnets; a nipple clamp.   He noticed how she tensed, but didn’t hesitate, he had to be bold, there was no place for second thoughts. He drew the clamp near her dark blue areola, his wife started to tremble. He halted, waiting for her consent. His hand didn’t move, as he gently bit her ear.   There was deep silence in the study, the elf’s nipples hardened with anticipation, her cheeks and abdomen felt hot. She figured out the reason for his sudden hesitance. She took a deep breath.   “Trinket.” She breathed out.   The clamp closed around her tender flesh. She yowled, her nails scraped the woodwork. Feeling a piercing spear of pain in her breast, she bit her tongue, surprised how wet her mouth became in such a short moment. She tossed in her chair, but didn’t dare look at him or move her hands.   “Give me your hand.” He demanded.   A second clamp fell in her little palm. Up close, she could see the gadget had elegant arcs and curves, the lower part had a dangling semicircle with a small red gem fixed under it. It wasn’t just decoration, the two clamps could be easily connected with a chain or hooked up with a leash.   “Do it yourself.” Farkas encouraged, turning the chair around with no effort. “I’d love to see it.”   She looked up at him, trying her best to keep tears from pouring out of her eyes. It hurt! It wasn’t pain that could make a person pass-out or go insane, but it was impossible to ignore. The clamps had smooth edges, not unlike some she saw… and felt, which had them notched, but the stress was felt so intensely on her delicate parts.   “Well…?” He raised his brow. “I’m waiting.” He folded his arms.   Caye firmly held the clamp, looking him straight in the eye. A wayward tear escaped the corner of her eye, rolled down her cheek and smudged the edge of her war paint. She could have sworn her heart stopped for a second, but if she wanted to keep this game going, she had to go with the flow.   The clamp closed on her nipple, new pain merged with the old one. She clenched the armrests, her chest heaved, the steel rings dangled with a subtle chime. She bore it as best as she could.   “Oh, love…” Farkas dropped to his knees. “Let me help you with that.”   He blew on her burning nips, gently cuddling her tits. The cold of his breath wasn’t enough. Ice! Yes, that was exactly what she needed right now! She could get up and march with her pair bouncing carelessly in the breeze all the way to Winterhold, then lay down flat on a glacier!   He gently licked her tender flesh, the saliva his tongue left was also a bit of comfort. The spanking from the day before was now a distant memory.   “You seem strained, dear. Everything’s alright?” He teased, standing up.   Before she could say anything, he tilted the chair back, supporting it against the desk. He grabbed a handful of her hair, and bend her head back. Gently, but dominantly.   “Oh…” She cooed, tears were now escaping her eyes and flowing up her eyelashes and forehead.   Farkas’ agile tongue licked them off, savoring the moment. This was a good start. Nothing violent, but with impact, something that would instantly define where her place was in their little game. He ran his finger down her throat. She conditioned he doesn’t grab it, he remembered, but he loved to see her instinctively tense and arch her back.   He stroked her laps, pulling her skirt up. She whimpered, pain mixed with excitement. Though she wanted to watch, she could only see the upside-down map of Skyrim on the wall above the desk. He caressed her thighs, listening into the noises she made. She wasn’t frantic nor in agony, which meant he was doing good so far. He grinned, unceremoniously grabbing and sharply pulling her panties. The material tore, she gasped surprised, her legs opened eagerly.   “Do you want me to touch you?”   “Very!”   He kissed her damp forehead, merely tapping her pussy with his fingertips. Her lips were sealed together, but slowly started to part from the wetness overflowing her vagina.   “You’re getting off, aren’t you?” He noted, gently pushing a finger inside.   Ysgramor’s honor, she was wet and hot! He played with her slippery lips, conjuring short cries and deep moans. No one would ever believe her usually measured voice could be so sweet. His groinpiece was tight and uncomfortable now, but he had to control himself more than anything. Although he wanted to do away with everything and just have her here and now, on the floor (Kodlak’s bed was out of the question), he regained his cool. This was just foreplay.   “Please…!” She dared to speak. “Don’t tease me…”   “No.”   The chair’s front legs hit the floor with a thug. Caye blinked, feeling dizzy. She looked up; her husband was licking his fingers with a smirk.   “We’re done… for now.”   “What…?” She jumped, the steel clamps dangled.   “Shush!” He hissed, pushing her back down. “Patience, dear. We’ll both get what we want.”   The disappointed look on her feverish face was priceless. He wanted to remember every detail of this scene; her cheeks blushed, her soulless eyes wet, her chest exposed and abused with the clamps, her legs trembling, a part of her sweet honeypot visible from under the pulled up skirt.   “Is there something you want to say?” He inquired, gently stroking her cheek.   “Big tease!” She grunted.   “You only get one backtalk without punishment.” He warned. “Leave your papers for today. I want you to look nice for the evening.” He smiled heartily. “I left you something in my old room. Get prepared and meet me home.” He took a step back, giving her a scrutinizing look. “Leave the clamps, understood? And let your hair loose. Also… paint your nails and eyelids golden, you know how much I love it.”   “Yes.” She nodded meekly.   “I can’t wait.” He said, exiting the room. “Don’t be late!” He called, as the door was about to close behind him.   Caye allowed herself to go numb and whimper a bit. Her breasts were pulsing with slowly fading pain. The part of the skirt she was sitting on was slippery and moist. Her heart raced, her hands trembled.   And it was barely midday!

Chapter 2 - First toy experience

Chapter 1 - First toy experience She got off the bed, opened the cupboard, and reached inside. She fumbled about for a few seconds, but finally found it, and took it out. It had white packaging. She opened it. There it lied, waiting to be used. She took it out, and watched it for a minute, thoughtfully. Almost shaking, she dropped it on her bed, and started to unbutton her shirt. She was rather skinny, and didn't have any womanly assets to speak of; this had affected her self esteem greatly, and was the reason for the lack of men in her life. She dropped the white blouse behind her, and undid her bra, which soundlessly fell to the sheets. She slipped out of her blue jeans. There she was, sitting in nothing but her panties. She took the dildo and watched it again. She carefully, almost ceremonically, brought it to her mouth, and licked it. She let it slide to her breasts, and let herself play with it and her nipples. She moaned softly, and rubbed her breasts with her hands. Now she wasn't thinking anymore, lust were driving her on, and she pulled off her panties. She was only sixteen, and hadn't shaved her ladyparts, but she didn't have a lot of hair there anyway. She licked her toy again, and slid it downwards. She let herself fall down on the bed, so she was lying on her back. It had slid all the way down now, and she very carefully let it slide inside, with a great deal of moaning. She closed her eyes, and started pushing it in and out with her right hand. Rubbing her left hand slongside her body, she moved it down to it, and started rubbing her clitoris with her middle finger. She was moaning louder now, and pushed it deeper and deeper inside her, continuing to rub herself. She was going faster and faster. With a loud moan she finally came, and brought up the toy to her smiling mouth, and licked the toy. She let it slide off her body, and fell asleep naked on her bed.

Chapter 2 - Grizzled Warrioress

Frostflow Lighthouse. A place one normal, average family sought to call home. Only to be slaughtered by the revolting Falmer that just happened to have their nest below. It was an unnecessary tragedy one could not predict nor prevent.   The Falmer and their insect pets were history. Although the Dragonborn promised to refrain from using the Thu’um, the anger she felt when she found the body of a middle-aged Redguard woman and her two teenage children rendered the oath obsolete. Breathing fire on those blind, pale abominations was satisfying as Oblivion itself.   When she found the remains of the father, she couldn’t help but do something symbolic; putting the remains in the beacon on top of the lighthouse. It was an unnecessary gesture, but she felt it was the right thing to do. She paid the rest of the bodies the same amount of respect, burying them outside the lighthouse, on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. One good firebreath made the ground soft and warm enough to dig up proper graves.   She wasn’t religious, but those people deserved better. She saw many bodies of innocent victims in her travels, and mostly ignored them. But this time she couldn’t look away and loot their house excusing herself with the old ‘they won’t be needing their stuff anymore’ card. It was a possible sign she was growing old and soft.   It was far too late to travel, and she was exhausted from the fighting and digging. She made herself cozy in the main chamber of the lighthouse, near the fireplace. Her mare was outside, in the back shed. She ate their still fresh produce, minding not to make much mess. She then laid on furs and blankets she gathered close to the warm, steady fire.   She was a light sleeper, a trait she was proud of. But recently she found falling asleep more and more difficult. At first she thought it was because she hadn’t a warm body next to her. But that wasn’t the case. She had some lewd fun with a number of men and women, but it appeared she needed one very specific body.   She fell asleep after chugging a whole bottle of good Hammerfell rum. Getting drunk wasn’t a good idea. When she heard noises late in the night she couldn’t react fast enough. Like a rookie she was surprised and beaten over the head, then gagged and tied up.   ---   “But, um… We’re going to let her go, right?” The newbie asked, nervously rubbing his palms.   “Sure thing! And next we’ll donate to the temple!” The Breton said mockingly, getting a better grip on the Redguard slut’s fine ass.   Aza did what she always did in extreme situations; thought fast. Ignore the pain, push aside your dignity and don’t let fear overcome you. Think, you dumb bitch, your life is on the line!   There were three of them, as usual when her luck turned bad. The ringleader was an Orc woman, unusually the Breton was the muscle, and they had some Nord whelp tagging along. The boss went outside to check the shed. Aza realized with horror that Orcs found horsemeat a delicacy. No, not her horsie!   “Okay, but…” the milk-drinker kept nagging. “We’re not going to kill her, right?”   Even the Redguard grunted with annoyance. Was that kid really that thick-skulled?   “Oh sure, and a woman with toys like those” his chin pointed at two glass swords and a set of steel armor on the table, “and a face like this” he pulled her by the shoulders, so that she faced the newbie, “will just forget and move on?”   The pup swallowed loudly. The woman’s right eye was completely white and her body covered in scars. The Breton was doing her from behind, her hands were tied on her back. Her huge rack bounced with his hard, disharmonious thrusts.   “Uh… no. She’s… pretty pissed off. She’ll come after us.” He admitted, avoiding her glare.   “Atta boy!” The Breton laughed, roughly pulling out. His cock was completely dry, but it didn’t bother him. He stuck his thumbs into her asshole and spread roughly, trying to fit his cap in. The gag pulled over her mouth muffled a pained howl. “No hard feelings, right honey? We’ll do it quick, you’ll barely feel a thing. Well, not now, I can tell you’ve never had it this hard, huh?”   She growled. His size was decent, but she had bigger and more talented. She suddenly noticed a bent rusty nail sticking from the floor a few inches from her face. This was her chance. She struggled, managing to pull herself closer to it and away from the Breton and his filthy cock.   “Whoa, there! What a jibber mare I got myself!” He exclaimed, grabbing her by the hips. “Say, rookie, after I’m done you can have some fun with this one! Tight like a teen!”   The new guy was speechless. The second he was about to say something, the Redguard managed to get the nail under the rag and sharply pull her head back. The material tore and loosened, falling off her face. A stream of blood followed, as she cut her cheek as well. She spat and took a deep breath.   “FUS… RO-DAH!”   With a surprised cry, the youngster was thrown across the room like a toy.   “What the hell…” The Breton asked dumbfounded.   Seizing the opportunity, Aza squirmed form his grasp, flipping over to free herself from her binds with the same nail. Thank the damned Gods, the material tore easily. Their eyes met. He gulped, seeing a mad spark in her good eye. Aza kicked him in the jaw, then sprinted to the table. Her hands grasped the familiar shapes of her swords, her teeth gnashed in a mad grin.   The Breton’s pants were pulled down all the way to his knees, his chestpiece was tossed far away, he didn’t want it to get in the way while he had his fun. Before he could get up and reach for his mace, the crazed woman’s blade was plunged deep into his spine, just above the shoulders, instantly reuniting him with the Gods.   The whelp shook his head, reaching for his short iron dagger. He had no idea how to use it, though. She disarmed him with no difficulty. But instead of killing him, she kicked him in the crotch and punched in the face, splitting his lip and knocking out.   She shrugged, feeling her holes torn, she was going to be sore for a few days. But she wasn’t done yet. There was no time to get dressed. Nervous neighing coming from the outside made her pick up the pace.   ---   The Orc woman smiled widely. The horse was well-kept and looked particularly tasty. She left that High Rock bastard and the Nord pup to have some fun with the Hammerfell slut they found. They should dispose of her after they’re done. Her stuff was worthy quite a penny, this was a good haul. She covered herself with her thick dark-green cape, pulling the matching hood deeper over her head. An impressive greatsword was on her back. The horse motioned away, but it had nowhere to hide.   There was a knock on the door.   “What?” The Orc asked annoyed.   “I killed them.” Aza said, though it wasn’t entirely true. “Come out, I want this over with.”   “Useless idiots!” The ringleader growled, heading out.   The Redguard was looking just like when she left her with the boys; what was left of a fatigued nightshirt was dangling on her in shreds, her hair was loose and tangled, her feet were bare. The swords the Orc was hoping to sale were in her grasp.   “Nice cape.” She said. They both knew what she meant; ‘It’s going to be my trophy, bitch!’   “Thanks. I’m actually grateful. They were useless fools, the new guy tagged along just recently. Wanted to be badass, but he was just a pussy.”   They began the dance, encircling the field before the lighthouse. The Orc unhurriedly reached for her gruesome sword.   “Men.” The Redguard sighed.   “I was hoping to use them to carry the spoils. But I guess now I’m going to ride your horse for a bit instead of eating it.”   “Her. She’s my girl. And you stay away from her.” Aza hissed. Damn her gear, but she grew attached to her paint mare!   “Oh? And what are you going to do, slut? Smother me with those tits of yours?”   Unexpectedly, the Redguard lowered her blades.   “You know what? Screw this, I’m not in the mood to play.” She said tiredly. She inhaled slowly.   “What ere y-?” The Orc’s survival instinct was tingling.   “FUS RO DAH!”   The bandit was set flying at the lighthouse wall. Before she could pick herself up, Aza jumped on her. Her blades sunk into the side of the Orc’s chest, piercing both lungs and heart. She quickly turned over the still warm body and took the cape and hood as trophy. There were no other valuables on the Orc – her armor was completely useless, the sword too troublesome to carry.   She anxiously checked up on her mare. Thankfully, the horse was not hurt. Her mount’s ears were flat on her shapely head, her hoof dug in the frozen ground.   “You be good, I’ll be back soon.” The adventurer said, closing the door. She had one more thing to do. She grinned vindictively, heading back inside.   ---   Kjeld opened his eyes with difficulty. He was laying on his belly, his mouth was bleeding, he might have chipped a tooth. His crotch was swollen with numbing pain. When his vision focused, he noticed the Breton’s body laying face-down just a few feet from him. The blood had time to cool and dry.   “You’re up. Good.” He heard a voice.   It was her, the Redguard! He tried to scuttle away, but he felt the tip of her blade on his shoulder.   “As you were, whelp.” She said calmly. She looked far scarier in a set of steel armor with pauldrons, cuffed boots and gauntlets. The Orc leader’s cape and hood were on her shoulders, he needn’t ask how she got them.   “My father owns a mine and an inn!” He said quickly. She didn’t kill him, mayhap he could buy his life?   “That’s nice.” She replied with a slight smile. “What’s your name, kid?”   “Kjeld. Kjeld the Younger.” He answered quickly, eying the glass tip dancing inches from his face.   That name sounded familiar. Where did she hear it?   “Younger? So, I assume Kjeld is your daddy, eh? And where are you from?”   “Kynesgrove.”   Kynesgrove! Right, she was there with Delphine to investigate an old dragon burial site. Alduin beat them to it and resurrected a dragon they had to fight. Damn, it felt as if it happened in a completely different life. But in fact, it was over a year ago.   “Nice little hamlet, Kynesgrove. Why’d you leave such a cozy place?” She kept questioning, as if they were having a tea party.   “Because it was dull!” The whelp suddenly snapped, his red hair covered his face. His slightly freckled cheeks got red. “My father wanted me to oversee the mine or work at his inn, he practically owns the village. But I wanted neither of it! I wanted to get out of there and do something more exciting!”   Her hand slightly trembled. Oh, the irony. Another small-village boy, who wanted to get away from his daddy and see the world. Though, this one hung out with the wrong crowd and was now paying for it. She felt a twitch in her chest. This is how Erik could end up without her help. She kept telling herself she did the right thing leaving him in Markarth. She was worrying sick ever since, but it was the right decision. Even if it left her feeling empty inside. And she could bet her good eye Erik was furious the morning she was gone.   She kneeled before Kjeld, gazing into his insipid eyes. They hadn’t the same spark that caught her attention back in Rorikstead. None of that potential, just waiting for a chance. This one was useless, but he wasn’t her responsibility.   “It’s your lucky night.” She said with a wide grin. Her teeth were shockingly white. “You met the wrong people, shit happens. You’re just a dumb whelp, so I’ll let you go… But if I ever catch you screwing around again, I’ll gut you. Understood?”   He nodded eagerly, blood from his smashed lips drizzled on the floor.   “Good. Get up and strip.” Her eyes glimmered, as always when she was up to no good.   “What?”   “Strip. Your parents apparently never punished you for stupidity, so allow me to do it myself.”   “I’m almost eighteen! I’m not a child!” He protested, standing up. The woman kicked him in the kneecap. He cried out a curse, struggling to maintain balance.   “To your bare ass.” She said indifferently.   Sobbing, he got out of his plain fur armor and underwear. She also made him take his shoes off. He wasn’t feeble, but it was obvious he hadn’t worked a day in his life. Too soft around the edges.   “Turn around” she instructed, pricking his chest with the sword. “Hands behind your back.”   He obeyed, whimpering. His pride was suffering more than his body. No one had ever mistreated him like this! She quickly tied his hands behind his back with what was left of her own binds.   “Stick your arse out.”   “What?!” He squeaked, his buttcheeks instinctively tightened.   “Your bum, pretty boy.” She said patiently, drawing lines on his back with the glass blade, mindful not to hurt him.   He bent over, shaking and sobbing. With a powerful thrust Aza shoved his sheathed dagger all the way into his rectum, then slapped his ass hard enough to leave a handprint. Kjeld screamed and ran out of the main chamber as if he was on fire. She followed him outside, laughing like a lunatic, and watched until he disappeared in the snowy horizon. He didn’t slow down until he completely vanished into the distance.   Still chuckling, Aza took the body of the Orc and threw it over the cliff. She did the same with the Breton. After a moment of consideration, she took her mare inside. She drank a healing potion, rubbed some soothing salve into her knees, ass and face, then drank a contraceptive potion she had stashed away ‘just in case’. Better safe than sorry. She slept with her horse near the fire, with the door solidly barred this time.

Chapter 6 - Daddy

No, not there! He’ll tear her apart! She wiggled, mewling. She felt his hot tongue playing around her unexplored hole. She clenched her muscles, fighting his tongue trying to slip in. Noo, her behind wasn’t for that!   “What’s wrong with you? Stay still.” He scolded, pressing her pelvis down the woodwork.   He generously moistened her asshole, saliva dripped down onto her slit and the table. Mother of Roses, his tongue was agile and rough, he could twist and roll it however he’d want. But under the given circumstances, his talent wasn’t to her advantage. Though she fought, he stuck the tip inside, wiggling energetically. Caye yelped surprised, he gave her no time to adjust, exploring her tight entrance.   “No, no, no! Daddy, please, not there! Anything but my bum!” She begged, jerking away.   Farkas pulled out, her asshole made an embarrassing popping sound. She instinctively tensed. She disobeyed her top, she’s going to get what’s coming to her. She could hear him stand up and unbuckle his pants. The belt…   “Stick your rear out.” He ordered, his voice was colorless.   The elf raised her hips, awaiting the inevitable. The belt swished and hit her across the cheeks. She screamed, sturdy leather was much more painful from a hand. But he wasn’t done yet. He lashed her two more times, taking an excruciating moment of pause between strikes, listening to her whimper.   When he was done, he took a step back and stared silently at his wife’s irritated skin. He knew it would eventually come to this, she was a stubborn woman. Still, he was angry at himself, but it was a necessity. She was in no position to question him or say ‘no’.   The buckle rung hollow next to her ear. She went numb; the rope binding her wrists dug deeper, her booty was stinging, she knew she’ll have marks for a few days.   He approached her up front, holding his pants up. Her eyes got watery, she bowed her head, beaten into submission. He gently held her by the chin to look at him.   “Well, what do you have to say?” He asked calmly.   “I’m sorry I made you do that, daddy.” Caye apologized, her make-up smudged.   “Damn right you are.” He stressed, leaning forward. “You do and let me do whatever I please until hear the safety word. Now, is there anything else you want to say? No? Good.” He took the belt and folded. “Bite into this.” He said, giving it to her.   She closed her jaws on the rough leather, immediately starting to salivate. Her love completely undressed, paying her no mind. She admired the lines of his shoulders and chest, then abdomen and finally his massive, limp cock. After so many intense love-making sessions with him, she’ll never go back to elves.   He briefly brushed her hair back, getting back to working her rear. He exhaled slowly, trying not to make a sound. It was good she couldn’t see the look on his face, he was unsure what to do now. He never liked to plan too much ahead, as plans had the tendency to get terribly messed up. But now he was in a tight spot; do her hard or cut some slack? He was terrified of going overboard and harming her, but at the same time he couldn’t be too soft.   She yowled, feeling his member heavily slam against her lower back, then rest between her cheeks. It was still soft, but impressive in size and thickness. That thing could break a woman her size, but he always took it slow, allowing her to adjust. Please, please, please be gentle this time!   Her breathing got too irregular and fast to be mere excitement; she was starting to panic. Not good. Having her humiliated, aroused and submissive was okay. Having her scared wasn’t. He remembered the last piece of advice his brother gave.   “I think you’re all set.” Vilkas rubbed his chin. “Just one more thing. You probably already know this, but I want my conscience clear. Anything goes between the boundaries you agreed upon, but never make your bottom fear you. She’ll be exposed and at your mercy. Have your fun, but once she stops feeling safe under your control the game is over and you’re just abusing her.”   “Got it.” He had the feeling his brother had first-hand experience, but didn’t ask.   He laid on her flat, immobilizing, but allowing to breathe. He rested his forehead between her shoulder and neck, reaching forward to take her bound hands into his.   “Trust me.” He said quietly, kissing her shoulder.   Caye’s breathing slowed down, her muscles noticeably relaxed. He rested on her for another moment, rubbing her hands in his, making sure they’re not getting cold or stiff from the knot. When her small, firm ass pushed against him, he knew things were okay.   He got off her, feeling a bit more confident and reassured he did the right thing. He reached to a shelf for special salve. After greasing his hands, he oiled her aggravated skin. The sweet curves shone like polished metal. She moaned muffled, the salve lessened the irritation a bit.   Good, good. He decided it was time to go hard now. He sandwiched himself between her buns and rode shallowly, coating his cock in the salve. She cried, when he pulled her hair back, but the belt was still in her mouth. She couldn’t control her salivation, a puddle started to form on the woodwork.   “Don’t worry.” He assured, poking her hole with his cap. “I know your limits, so I won’t do it personally tonight. But…” Farkas breathed into her ear. “If I ever catch you stealing again, I’ll wreck your ass, love. I mean it.”   He let her hair go, his wife obediently rested her cheek in the wet wood. He took the belt from between her jaws, Caye coughed, getting out the drool that got into her throat.   “You won’t catch me ever again.” She promised. “Because I’ll be more careful.” She added in her mind.   “I’m not that stupid, kitty cat.” He guessed her intentions right. “And you better shape up. Close your eyes. I got another surprise for you.”   More surprises? Oh, this was getting good. The elf shut her eyelids, awaiting with anticipation. After a brief moment of panic, her treasure managed to set the mood and action on the right track. She was a bit angry at herself for thinking he would do something selfishly cruel to her.   She felt smooth coolness on her lower back. Although curious, she knew daddy wouldn’t like her peeping. She bit her lower lip, feeling the sleek object slide alongside her behind, then vulva. Daddy comfortingly stroked her ass, whilst coating it with her juices and the salve.   “I already told you I won’t do your ass personally. But I’m not leaving it undisturbed tonight. Relax.”   When the tip of the surprise met with her anus, Caye guessed what it was; a teardrop-shaped glass plug. She purred, feeling it fight the resistance of her asshole, but steadily pushing inside. The size was just about right, she felt how it filled her, but with no pain.   She was getting hot, the salve must have had a pinch of Fire Salts in it. She sighed, instinctively closing her thighs together and rubbing them like a cat in heat. The plug trusted deeper as a warning.   “I didn’t tell you to close your legs. Wide apart, unless you want me to tie them to the table. And yep, the salve had something special in it. Be nice and I’ll scratch your itch.”   Bastard! If her eyes had the normal color one could see them roll to the back of her head. Her pussy burned a steady, carnal flame. Her ass was also on fire, the plug felt like an icicle, slipping in and out from different angles. She was getting too wet to contain her excitement. She bit on a strand of hair that got in the corner of her mouth. She needed his cock.   His wife could be so cute when he denied her something. He let go of the plug, turning his attention to her honey lips. The smooth, ashen-blue flesh spread under his fingers, revealing her pink pussy. The whole vaginal opening was flooded with clear, slippery juices. He decided there will be no soft foreplay, unceremoniously stuffing two fingers inside. She screamed, but her voice sunk into a moan. Farkas smiled pleased, proud he was the only one to make her sing like that.   His fingers were thick and rough form handling a sword. She could feel his wedding ring tease her from the inside, as he shoved them to the limits. To make her cry louder, he bent the fingertips, finding her sensitive spot. He resumed manipulating the plug, she could feel the wall between her vagina and rectum stretched and flexed. Gods, she’s going to go numb soon.   Oh, but there was something missing. She wanted to taste him! Both of them loved giving and receiving oral service, she could take his whole curved shaft inside with no preparation. Her throat was as deep and hot as Red Mountain itself.   “P… please!” Caye begged. “Please let me suck you off, daddy!”   He hadn’t said anything, but pulled his fingers out and released the plug. She shook, expecting punishment. It was uncertain whether she feared or anticipated it.   “And do you think you deserved it?” He inquired, gently spreading her lips, and blowing at her hot twat.   “I…” This must have been a verbal trap! Or was she just paranoid? She had no idea, and it drove her even more frustrated. “I don’t know, I beg your mercy.” She submissively pleaded.   “Well, I do tend to spoil you…” Farkas noted, approaching her.   With hope, she noticed him getting hard. And at the same time she felt hurt he hadn’t gotten stiff earlier. Wasn’t her pussy enough to make him stand up at attention?? She pouted when his hands softly stroked her cheeks before getting a firm grip on her jaw.   “What?” His brows rose.   “Am I not pretty?” She asked with a huff.   “Of course you are!” Daddy assured. She looked exceptionally in the dancer outfit, the golden make-up he loved, and the aroused look on her little cruel face.   “Then why didn’t you get hard sooner?” She demanded an answer.   His brows crossed. Without warning, he pressed the point between her jaw and ear, opening her mouth. His penis stuffed her mouth, passing the tonsils, and entered her throat. She gagged, but as she was bound, and he had full control of her mouth. She took it in, to the very balls. His trimmed, but thick pubic hairs tickle her nose.   “I ask the questions around here, missy.” He said with a grin. “Be careful for what you ask for and don’t push it. Because I have some other toys handy, the kind you’ll remember for a long time after we’re done.”   The look in her eyes could only mean  “How did you get your hands on so many toys?”   “I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy…” He explained patiently, increasing the pace and force.   Although she was good at deep-throating, she gagged and choked, her chin and neck were dripping slimy drool. Her eyes got watery, her make-up was now in a mess, and so was her hair. Although her husband abused her mouth, she grinded her tongue against his shaft, moaning and dripping from both ends; her mouth and pussy. The burning was now unbearable. She wanted him inside her swollen cunt! Now!!   “I know what you’re thinking.” He said with a soft smile. “You want daddy to do you, don’t you? I’ll take that groan as a yes.” His smile widened, exposing the sharp tips of his canines. “I already know what I’m going to do to you. And how I’m going to do it.” His wolfish grin gave her goose bumps.   She gurgled when his dick was pulled out. Farkas marched to the other end of the table and grabbed her ass. The basement did a spin, when Caye was turned over, the glass plug was now painfully filling her asshole. The knot on her hands twisted, but not hard enough to stop blood flow. Wasting no time on words, daddy bound her ankles separately and tied them to her wrists. The elf’s legs rose and spread, her ass and vagina were shamelessly exposed.   She cried when he fell on her, the table legs creaked with his weight crushing her petite frame. Her pussy was filled perfectly, the cervix was the limit.   “Was it worth the wait?” He asked, resting his forehead on hers, but not moving.   “Yes…!”   “Is daddy good to you, kitten?”   “The best!” She wailed, her hips jerked, pushing against his.   With a laugh, he kept her in place. He did a slow, lazy thrust. His lovely wedded literally cried, tears rolled from her eyes and sunk into her hair. The torture was unbearable.   “I’m a bit tired, you know.” He faked a yawn. “I think I’ll just rest like this…”   “Mercy!” She cried, interrupting him, but she didn’t care. “Have mercy on me and just fuck me already!!”   Her ribcage protested when Farkas smothered her with his bulk.   “I love you, woman!” He grunted hoarsely, before stuffing his tongue in her throat.   He pounded her pussy mercilessly, knowing she wanted it hard and rough, enough to make her scream. His hands on her hips were gripping hard, fighting her struggling. Caye almost lost her mind, feeling his jutting glans pumping her like a savage. This side of him, the side he showed only in bed or battle, she loved it as much as his usual calm self.   He felt her muscles tense around his throbbing cock, her sharp tongue fought his. He loved seeing her lose all her inhibition. He loved her smarts and integrity, but the woman behind the wits and manners was his, all and only his.   He could feel the plug as he kept thrusting, giving her no time to catch her breath. In this position he could feel her abdomen convulse and relax, his cock kept squeezing more and more wetness from within. She needn’t tell him how much she loved to be fucked by daddy.   He slid his tongue the length of her soft and hard palate before breaking their sloppy kiss. He marked the side of her neck with his teeth, she regretted she had her hands bound, because she’d dig them into his back, leaving red marks all over his pale skin.   “I can feel you’re almost there.” He muttered lazily, as if he wasn’t going to come himself. “You’re burning inside. And I want to flood you with my seed, love.”   “I want it in me.” His wife’s voice was barely a whisper. “So bad…! And I want it…” She was losing her senses. “Now! Ooh, now!!”   She screamed out his name, feeling her insides rip with a climax like never before. Farkas bit into her neck, the moment her cervix started rhythmically clench on his tip, he followed. He came, ejaculating with force and quantity to fill more than just one woman. Caye’s tight pussy overflew with his sperm, a large portion was quickly swallowed-up into her eager uterus.   For a second she lost track of reality, her head was light, her body heavy. She couldn’t control her spasms and moans, crying with relief and glee. Through thick mist, she heard him grunt with his face buried between her neck and shoulder.   The basement was now quiet, only their breathing spoiled the silence. Their sweat mixed, the table was slippery with the fluids. The elf was numb under her man, her pussy still massaged his slowly shrinking member. This was it… this was what it meant to be truly happy with another.   “You okay?” He asked, his hair was tangled and loose.   “I’m afraid I might have died and am now in paradise.” She replied breathlessly.   “It’s not over yet.” He said with a sinister gleam.   With vigor, he got off her and reached for a green bottle on the nearby counter. The Dunmer noticed there were several other bottles of the same kind.   “Oh dear Gods…” She shuttered, as cum oozed from her worn out cunt. Those were stamina potions.   Farkas drank and wiped his mouth, staring at her predatorily, his cock was hardening again. Although the crown was red and bruised, it looked as if it hadn’t had enough. The potion made the veins darken and thicken.   He took another bottle and approached his defenseless prey. Caye knew he’s going to make her drink the potion one way or another, so she didn’t protest when he supported the back of her head and poured the drink into her mouth.   “The night is not over yet.” He said when the last drops were swallowed. “I’m going to keep coming inside you until we’re out of potions and you’re passed out.”   “Azura…!” Her black eyes widened.   “You’re going to call out every Divine and Daedra there is, dear.” He promised, kissing her damp forehead. “I’m going to get you pregnant tonight even if it kills me!”   Several hours later, with the assist of stamina potions, he managed to fill her up four more times; three in the pussy and one in her mouth. Though, he was merciful allowing short breaks. Between the second and third time he untied her and took the action to the soft rug that was now soaked with pussy juice, sperm and sweat.   “That ought to do it!” Farkas said cheerfully, pulling the plug out of her butt with a pop.   “Mmma…!” Caye wasn’t able to think, lest speak. Her body was now one lump of exhausted flesh, her insides were pulsing with satisfaction, grazed from the friction.   “You alright?” He asked concerned. She could only nod. “Did… Did I do good?” He asked the dreaded question.   “I love you with all my heart.” Was all she could say. “I want a baby. And a bath.” She added, half-asleep.   “We’ll have one. I’m sure of it.” Her love comforted. “Baby, I mean.”   This wasn’t the time to ask her further. Her blissful expression and glazed eyes were enough for an answer. They both needed sleep, a bath could wait. He gently held her and picked up, heading to their bedroom, where he had good drinks and food for the morning.   “You needn’t, really.” She sighed when he rested her on their bed.   “I do.” He protested, helping her get rid of the soaked and ripped outfit. “I’m going to be so tender and loving for the next days, you’ll want to divorce me.”   “Never!” She swore, letting him dress her in the practical linen nightshirt. “Everything was perfect tonight.” She praised with a smirk.   “Glad to hear. Though next time, you’re the top.” He conditioned, laying beside her. “Mistress…”   “Daddy…”

Chapter 8 - Epilogue

“Farkas! Farkas!” There was a cry in the middle of the night.   “Mm…?” A brutal shake of the shoulder woke him from deep sleep. “What is it? Are you in labor?” He asked, suddenly staggered by one of his late-night fears. Not yet, it was too early!   “No! I’m not due in another month!” Caye assured, stroking her pronounced belly.   “Good, good…” He visibly calmed down. “What is it, then?” He asked tiredly.   “I’m hungry.” His wife confessed embarrassed. “Could you go down and get me something to eat?”   Cravings! He was told pregnant women were moody and crazy, but an elven pregnant woman was just too much, even for someone as patient as him. Caye drove him over the edge more than once with her whims and mood strokes. He just sucked it in and hoped everything will change once she gives birth. Even he knew how naive that was.   “Okay, sure. Anything in particular you’d want?” He inquired, rubbing his chin.   “Is there some apple pie left?” She asked out loud. “Because I would love if you could heat up some for me.”   “Sure…” Farkas knew he might as well pack up and leave the house if he’d suggest she eats it cold.   “And a scoop of cream over it, please?” Her mouth was already watery.   “No problem.” He rested his feet on the floor. “Anything else?” He had no intention of making the trip twice.   “Hm… no, I don’t think… Wait!” She called out, when her husband was out of the bedroom. “Salted herring!”   “Are you sure?” He dared ask, looking back into the bedroom. “That’s bound to give you some nasty… Herring it is!” He said, seeing the tearful look on her face.   Caye made herself more comfortable and lit a lamp. She had no idea how much power being pregnant would give. And how pathetic it could also make her feel. People treated her more courteous, especially members of the elven community. Amongst Mer a pregnant woman was treated with the utmost respect, given how difficult it was for elves to reproduce.   She also found she was excused whenever she’d want to be alone or enjoy a nap. She was also excused to stuff her face with whatever she’d please. She gave up alcohol with little regrets, but her condition pushed her to experiment with new dishes and flavors. She would never suspect raw onion could taste as good as a ripe apple, or how well goat leg could go with berry glaze.   But there were also downsides. She was less agile than normal. With her swollen belly she found a task as simple as climbing the stairs to be quite the challenge. No more jumping from rooftop to rooftop or somersaults, she had to take it slow. There were times she felt so repulsed by herself, so damned useless and pathetic. At times like these, she preferred to be alone, wallowing in misery.   Her mood could shift from joyful to tearful in a second. Before pregnancy she couldn’t believe women were that unstable emotionally when with child. She was confident someone like her would never allow that, she was a spy, for Gods’ sake, not some lowly serf! She could control herself in every circumstance, a baby wouldn’t change that! Her integrity and resourcefulness were adamant.   Oh, how wrong she was. She barely recognized herself. And as embarrassing as it was, she was afraid of delivering. In her life she suffered all sorts of pain, but giving birth scared her stiff. The only fear she could compare, was the one she felt before summoning Odahviing and fighting Alduin.   She reached to the nightstand for a bottle of ointment. With difficulty she rolled her nightshirt up and poured the aromatic oil on her pronounced tummy. She spent a fortune on ingredients, balms and salves to pamper herself during this difficult time. She had a healthy dose of vanity, and she’d sooner go broke than have stretch marks.   Rubbing her belly, she smiled feeling movement under her skin. She hoped for a girl. A smart young thing she could raise as an eloquent young lady. She snickered, realizing she already had plans for her progeny. By age seven learn the basic spells. By age twelve learn the basics of fencing. At the age of sixteen her daughter should decide which path she’ll choose; that of a scholar, mage or… as Farkas would never let it go… warrior.   Speaking of which, pregnancy had another interesting influence over her. She was hornier than ever.   Her love entered, carrying a platter with the tidbits she wanted. Without a word he placed it next to her, ignoring her glistening baby bump. All he wanted was sleep.   Caye swallowed, eying the herring. That smell! Couldn’t he smell that stench?! Dear Divines, she felt sick. She covered her mouth, fighting nausea.   “You okay?” Farkas asked with eyes closed.   “No.” She breathed with difficulty.   “What’s wrong?” He opened his eyes, raising on his elbow.   “I don’t want the fish anymore.” She confessed almost tearful.   With a sigh, he took the plate and left the room. Just one more month. One. More. Month. He poured himself a drink; ale. It was warm and barely tolerable, but there was nothing else to drink. He rubbed his face before going back up, knowing his lady didn’t like to be left alone for too long at night.   “I’m sorry.” She greeted him with her mouth full, some of the cream got on her chin.   “It’s alright.” He slipped under the covers.   “You’re so good to me.” Caye sighed, swallowing the last bite of her pie.   Farkas looked at her with half-shut eyes. Bah! She might be all sweet and cuddly now, but he was positive she’ll call him a bastard and worse names at least ten times tomorrow morning.   “I’m here to make you happy.” He replied, not giving away how tired he was.   “Speaking of which…” She rolled closer to him.   “Come on, let’s get some sleep…” He stroked her belly with a yawn. “Maybe in the morning, okay?”   “It’s because I’m fat, isn’t it?” She asked with a frown.   “Please, not tonight…” He breathed. “You look amazing, but I’m tired.”   And it was the truth. She was more alluring than ever. Even though moody, with her back aching and her feet sore. She was now more curvaceous, blooming. Her breasts got larger, heavier. The areolas were darker, almost black. Her behind also got a bit bigger, more bouncy. Her belly was big and round, perfectly smooth. Inside was their child, a new life. A true miracle. Her pussy was more plump, the lips dark and swollen, almost constantly eager for some loving.   And she stopped disappearing to do her shady business, bless her condition! Still, she got more letters than normal, at least once a day a courier would arrive carrying or collecting correspondence. Regardless, it was better than having her travel and risk her health.   “But Daaadddyyyy!” She pouted.   “Love…” He abruptly sat up. “I am going to be someone’s daddy in a month, so don’t do that. It’s weird now.”   She giggled, her rounding bounced. This was a priceless sight.   “I’m sorry,” she apologized wiping the corner of her eye. “That was really funny.”   He grunted, resting back on the pillows. She needed them more and more with every day, the bed was more of a nest now. Caye lied at his side, her bump rested against his midsection. He could swear he felt movement under her skin. This was a bit strange, like there was already a third person in their bed.   “Can I at least give you a nice, slow massage?” She offered, snuggling her cheek against his chest.   “I thought ‘no’ means ‘no’…” He talked back, gently pressing his palm to her belly. “Fine, but no promises.”   “I’ll just massage you enough to feel nice. Either you’ll fall asleep relaxed or we can have some ‘us’ time.”   The elf reached under his pants and gently stroked his still slumbering shaft. Skillfully, she twisted her wrist and moved her hand up and down, teasing his member. It didn’t take long to respond, hardening and erecting. The skin covered and uncovered the glans, the friction slowly warded sleep away.   “I don’t know how you do it.” He shook his head, pushing the covers away.   “Ah… Your hand is cold!” She protested when he rubbed her vulva. But that didn’t stop her from continuing what she was doing.   “You’ll warm it up for me in a moment.” Was his reply.   To Oblivion with sleep! The moment he relaxed her womb enough to feel first drops of moist escaping her pussy, he knew he’ll come inside her tonight. He rubbed her clit with the back of his palm, pushing a finger inside. In a month their baby will come into the world through that entrance. The very thought was electrifying.   “No, you just rest and let me take care of everything.” Farkas said motioning away. Caye puffed when his cock slipped out of her grasp, just like a child whose favorite toy was taken away.   He supported her hips and put a pillow under her behind. Her pelvis rose, making it easier for him to rest on his knees between her thighs. She smiled at him, embracing her baby bump. The look on her face faded into bliss, and then she loudly yawned.   “Hey, don’t go to sleep now!” He said, wrapping his arms around her thighs.   “You’re going to have to hurry up, treasure.” His wife replied with a whimsical smirk.   “No, I want it nice and slow.” He refuted, pushing an inch inside.   She tensed, fearing the pressure on her bladder from both sides; him and the baby, might be too much. But everything was alright. Another inch followed, the tip passed her G-spot. Then another…   “Your navel is awfully funny.” Her husband tenderly noted, playing with the pronounced nub.   “Excuse me, but if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have a whole person growing inside of me.” She talked back, letting him enter her to the limits.   “As I recall it was you who was all over me.”   “I was tied up.” She reminded.   But instead of engaging in a debate with her, Farkas nonchalantly kept pinching and rolling her navel, slowly fucking her insatiable vagina. The way her body reacted to his moves was mesmerizing. Her breasts bounced up and down, her nipples did their best to get his attention.   He reached out for them and cuddled, first gently, then more confidently. He wondered will they stay this full after she’s done nursing…   “What the…?” He muttered, feeling wetness under his palms.   Caye froze, also feeling something strange around her areolas. When her husband took his hands away, they both saw droplets of liquid on her breasts. It was opaque white with a golden hue.   “Is this supposed to happen?” He asked confused, stopping rocking his hips. He stared at his palms dumbfounded.   “I’m not sure… A healer told me sometimes some milk can be produced before delivery… But I’m not sure what that is… Azura, don’t do that!” She gasped, seeing him lick his palms.   “What? It’s yours, so I don’t find it gross or anything.” He calmed her down, savoring the new flavor.   “How does it taste?” She inquired a bit intrigued.   “A bit skim. You want a taste?” He suggested, cupping the sides of her breasts, so that the nipples almost touched each other.   “No! I was warned too much attention to my breasts wouldn’t do me any good. It might even rush the delivery.” She protested nervously.   “Damn…” Farkas released her tits. “What can I do, then?”   “Keep going.” The Dunmer pleaded softly, swaying her hips with him still inside. “I’ll come soon, but I want you to finish in my mouth. I love the way you taste.”   “Funny, because I love all your flavors.”   She laid back, giving herself completely to her love. Gods, he could thrust so agonizingly slow and deep… only to suddenly do a series of quick, shallow jabs. Despite how small she was his shape and size were perfect.   “Are you holding back?” He asked, noticing she’s been squirming for a longer time and biting her lip suggestively.   “No!” She quickly lied, but she wasn’t fooling him.   “Oh, no you don’t…!” He grunted offended, licking his fingers.   All he had to do was rub and squeeze her clit and slightly adjust the angle, hitting her most tender spot. Her pussy surrendered and was washed over by a deep, burning climax. Caye moaned, grabbing the trelliage above her head. Her vagina quivered, hot juices spilled out. Maybe it was his imagination, but she was more generous in squirting her dews whilst pregnant.   “Ah… Come here, please, I want you on my tongue!” She begged, her black eyes were still glazed with mindless bliss.   She needn’t ask twice. He swiftly got next to her head. She rested her cheek on his lap, whilst he quickly jerked his pulsating shaft. To heat things up, she stuck out her tongue and tapped his tip, nonchalantly stroking her belly.   “I can feel it move inside of me.” She said softly, feeling the baby kick.   That short sentence drove him over the edge. He ejaculated, surprised as much as her. She choked, but quickly tilted her head to fit the whole head in, swallowing gulps of his sperm. He sunk his hand in her red hair, the other he put next to her on her bump.   “You could have warned me…!” She gasped, after he was done shooting his load.   “I was caught off guard.” He grinned, finally collapsing next to her.   “Yum!” She snickered, licking off some of the semen that got on her cheek and neckline. Creamy and thick, no unpleasant aftertaste. He was healthy and strong, indeed.   “Your cravings are getting stranger and stranger, love.” He joked, trying to find his pants. “Hey?” He nudged her shoulder, surprised she didn’t have any smart retort.   She was asleep. Her slit was still wet and dripping, her belly shone from the oil, her wonderfully swollen pair heaved up and down.   With a laugh he rolled her nightshirt down and wiped some of the last drops of cum from the corner of her lips.   THE END   25.05.2013

Chapter 3 - Markarth

In retrospect, Erik should have seen that one coming. There were signs the bitch planned to depart, but he was either too foolish to notice, or too stubborn to admit there was something wrong.   After defeating Alduin, they made a quick stop in Whiterun to pick up their horses and report to the Jarl. There were no honors, no piles of gold as reward for their valor. Balgruuf was relieved, his city was safe. The two left to do whatever they’d want. They chose to ride west.   The City of Stone was a marvel, as with all metropolises built upon ancient Dwemer ruins. Although it recently changed its Jarl, it remained a haven for sellswords of all kinds.   They arrived early in the morning, and for the rest of the day drank in honor of the two Dunmer who paid a significant role in their quest. They had no word from Erandur, it was said he assisted the healers as best as he could, then left a few days later. Jenassa’s body was cremated per his request, he took the ashes with him.   On a drunken whim they ended up sneaking into the inner sanctum of the Temple of Dibella. After being caught by the priestesses, they were rashly scolded and lashed with wooden sticks. In order to repent for their trespass the priestesses sent them out on a hopeless quest to find Dibella’s future Sybil.   ---   The Sybil was barely eight years old. She was dirty and hungry, her plain commoner dress reduced to rags. Finding her was quite a feat, as she was abducted from her home village of Karthwasten by the Forsworn. It was best not to know for what purpose.   Erik and Aza fought through a small army of the savages, before freeing her from an abandoned Imperial fort. She was surprisingly calm and spoke too well for her age. There was certainly something strange about that child. They got her out of the damned ruin in haste.   ---   A hoarse cough cut the night air; Aza caught another cold, probably from when she rolled in the snow on top of the Throat of the World. It was her turn to keep a lookout, she couldn’t sleep anyway. She had a plan brewing and intended to carry it out soon. In a day or two, just to savor the last moments.   Their camp was near a small pond, Erik and Fjotra were asleep, the horses were watchful of any nocturnal predators. Dragonflies raced above the water, lunar moths majestically fluttered in the cool night air. The night was as peaceful as possible.   She heard the rustling of leaves; the Sybil, was awake. The girl was standing stiff, as if paralyzed. She was staring straight at the Redguard, her eyes wide open and unblinking. Aza didn’t move. It was said the child was touched by the Gods, but the term was vague enough to mean she was either a seer or mad. She didn’t move a muscle as not to startle the girl, waiting for the Sybil to make the first move.   “Come” she beckoned. Aza dared not resist that tone. The obediently followed the little figure up to the pond.   Fjotra said nothing, her little finger pointed at the water. Aza got on all-fours and looked into the water. She could see her reflection, there was nothing new or unusual about her scarred face. But where should be Fjotra’s reflection was a mysterious naked woman. She instinctively knew it was the girl’s future self.   “Dovahkiin” the reflection said, the voice seemed to come from under the water, but was also strangely clear and warm.   “I’m delusional, it must be the fever.” The Redguard said with solid confidence.   “The Gods cannot entirely control the affairs of mortals. It is not their intention.” Adult Fjotra’s long hair was enveloping her luscious naked form. “And yet they can bend the odds to give their favored ones a small push.”   “I said I want nothing to do with you!” Aza grinded her teeth. “I killed that dragon, just like you wanted, so now leave me be!”   “A small push, Dovahkiin.” The reflection started to fade away. “No more, no less. What you do with it is up to you.”   The image disappeared, the surface was now smooth and dark. Aza spat in it with thick saliva mixed with mucus. She looked over her shoulder; little Fjotra was gone as well. Instead, she felt a hand on her shoulder.   She gasped, then immediately choked and coughed. Her throat was burning, her head seemed as big as a barn.   “It’s okay, it’s me.” Erik said, still keeping his hand on her shoulder. “My turn to keep watch.”   Wait, where was she? This wasn’t the pond, why was she in her bedroll…? It was all a dream! She wanted to laugh, but hacked and coughed again. She needed healing badly, but the illness was too serious to shake off with a bit of potions and prayer.   “The kid?” She inquired, coughing up the fluids settling down her throat.   “Sound asleep.” He assured. Indeed, the girl was breathing peacefully next to the fire.   “Good, good.” She snorted.   “First, we’ll go to the temple. Then the apothecary, and a room at the inn.” Erik insisted, pressing his palm to her forehead. His hands were pleasantly cold.   “Are you going to take care of me?” She muttered, feeling a bit of relief.   “I’m going to pamper you until you beg me to stop.” He promised with a smirk. “Sleep. Your coughing keeps waking me up.”   ---   “I must say, I am surprised the lots of you got our Sybil here safe and sound. You’ve earned the Goddesses’ forgiveness.” Mother Hamal said graciously, her hand rested firmly on Fjotra’s shoulder. She had the hands of a young girl, not an elderly woman. The beauty and elegance of Dibella’s priestesses was more than just a rumor.   “We’re honored” Erik said, whilst his partner was trying to refrain from spitting her lungs out.   They trotted in place for a moment, but Hamal had no intention of paying them.   “These people deserve a reward.” Fjotra suddenly said, her voice had nothing of a child’s tone.   The High Priestess looked down upon the girl. Her face was transfixed for a moment.   “Yes, of course.” She said slowly, reaching into her robe’s pocket.   “Mighty thanks!” Erik grinned, weighting the coinpurse Hamal presented. Meanwhile, Aza wiped the sweat from her face, maintaining balance with difficulty. She was going to either faint or throw up.   “You’re welcome. Now, if you excuse us…” Hamal gestured them to leave.   The Redguard gave the temple one last sharp look, before following Erik out, she was far too exhausted to even think.   “Don’t worry!” She heard the Sybil’s cheerful tone. “It’s going to be alright!”   The heroine stopped and looked over her shoulder; Hamal was about to enter the inner sanctum, but Fjotra squirmed from her grasp and was now bending over a stone basin in the middle of the chamber.   “What’s going to be alright?” The Redguard asked, fearing the answer. Will the kid give her another dim prophecy?   “You’re concerned whether the priestesses will be good to me, right? They will.” The girl smiled, her dirty cheeks lit up. Thankfully, she wasn’t in a trance of any sort.   “Good to know. Take care, kiddo.” Aza faintly smiled back.   “Good luck out there.” Fjotra bid the sniffing woman. “Dovahkiin” she added quieter after the bronze doors slammed shut.   ---   Another city, another inn, another room that was going to be home for a day or two. The bed was made of stone, but cushioned with the softest and thickest mattress in all of the Reach. Erik smiled, mixing the ingredients they bought from the hag in the apothecary shop. It was a recipe he knew and enjoyed so well back home; troll fat with fire salts. The best remedy for a cough and fever. And an amazing lubricant to jerk-off with.   “Gimme booze!” Aza cried, laying flat under a thick blanket.   “No, you just drank your medicine.” He refused calmly. “Be a good girl and sweat the flu out.”   “Arse” she snorted. But she was just testing him. It was good to see he wasn’t so malleable anymore, that he wasn’t afraid of her and could say ‘no’. Although, she missed playing mom to the pup he used to be.   She rested her head on the pillow, her hair was wet and in a mess. Her skin felt sticky and slimy. She was repulsed by herself. She had to do something about it.   “Where are you off to?” He asked, when she jumped out of the bed and rushed across the room, leaving a wet outline of her frame on the mattress.   “Shower!” She screeched, throwing her damp nightshirt behind.   Markarth and Solitude shared one distinct feature; both cities had plumbing and running water. Thanks to the ancient Dwemer Aza could enjoy a hot shower. She approached two valves on the stone wall and turned them with effort; a stream of hot water came down from a bronze showerhead. She exhaled with relief, as steam rose in the small bathing room.   “Should I tie you to the bed?” She heard Erik call from behind. His hands closed on her hips, then slid up her waist. She felt his leg brushing against hers, it was amazing how fast he undressed and got here.   “Why not? But spank me first, okay?” She joked.   He snickered, cupping her breasts and gently massaged them, making her chest relax a bit. Pinching and rolling her nipples, he made her semiconsciously rock her ass back and forth.   “How about this” he proposed, whispering into her ear. “A quick shower, then you get to bed and let me do all the rest? What do you say?”   “Where have you been all my life?” Aza sneezed, closing her eyes.   “Tending the crops, ma’am.” Erik said with a slight twang he could never get rid of.   He pushed her heavy breasts up, so that the nipples were just below her chin. His cheek rubbed against her shoulder, as he watched her take them in her mouth and suckle on their velvet brown nubs. His member thickened and bumped against her leg, but he hadn’t planned to have her under the shower.   She sneezed again, reaching for a sponge and bathing mixture.   “I guess this is the part where I say something about being a dirty girl, hm?” She joked, handling him the foamy sponge.   She hacked as Erik scrubbed her back, but it wasn’t as hoarse as before, the medicine started to work. Her palms firmly pressed against the wall whilst she stuck her behind out, enjoying the rough sponge brushing against her skin. He washed her curves with pleasure, focusing a tad longer on her inner thighs. She squealed when he ran the sponge between her buttocks.   “You’re good, go lie down.” He said, turning the valves off. The stone chamber was stuffy with steam.   She dried her hair and went back to the bedroom wrapped in a thick, soft towel. The room and service in the Silver-Blood Inn were lavish and costly, but Aza thought they deserved one last luxurious moment before departing. She glanced at her armor left on the stone desk in the corner. In her satchel was a small bottle containing… She quickly looked away, laying down on the sheets, still wrapped in the towel.   Erik followed, energetically drying his hair. His bush needed trimming again, but she was too tired to nag. His cock looked like a red mammoth’s trunk. She wanted to snicker, but ended up sighing.   “I thought about checking out those rumors we heard about the Dawnguard, you know?” He said, whipping his hair back and using the towel to dry his pubes.   “I’m not pulling you from some undead slut’s grasp again.” The Redguard replied, sliding her arms and legs wide apart. “Hey!” She complained when he took her towel without warning.   “Relax” he said patiently, throwing it on one of the chairs.   He reached to the nightstand for the bowl with the salve he mixed. The smell and texture were just like he remembered.   “Whatcha got there?” Aza asked cautiously.   “Something good for you.” He replied, generously greasing his palms. “And I’m not talking about myself.”   “Don’t get cocky.” She grunted.   He proceeded to rub the mixture into her chest, neckline and ribs. Aza released a long, exhausted moan.   “Fire salts?” She guessed right.   “It’s hard for a Nord to catch a cold, but once that happens…” He dramatically cut the sentence. “… It has many other uses.”   “You used this to jerk-off, didn’t you?” She guessed without a blink.   He laughed embarrassed, his palms drew circles around her tits. He had a sudden idea.   “You want to kill me?!” She squeaked when he mounted her chest, his cock sliding between her greased breasts.   “My lady, you insult me!” He laughed, pressing them hard on his thickening shaft. His cock already started to pleasantly itch. This brought back memories.   “Asshole!” She grunted, but was too tired to fight. She let him ride her rack as he pleased. Truth be told, it was actually pleasant. The salve was working indeed, and the friction increased the effect. If only his glans didn’t try to pierce her throat.   “You know, speaking of assholes. Remember that little promise you made me?”   “Hm?” She searched her memory. She seldom promised anything, but she suddenly felt strange anxiety.   “On our way from Solitude to High Hrothgar you promised me something.”   “Oh shit…!” She remembered.   “Yep. You said that if we defeat Alduin and live long enough to bask in out triumph, you’d let me do your ass however I’d like.”   “Now?!”   “Yes, now. You’re burning with fever, so you won’t fidget. And I can only imagine how hot you’re inside…”   “You bastard! I’m defenseless and you’re taking advantage of the situation!” The wretch cried.   “Like you never done that to me.” Erik laughed disturbingly, pinching her nipples. “Come on, I won’t be rowdy, promise. And I got some salve and soothing balm. I don’t want to do any harm to you. ”   “Fine!” She gave in. She knew he’d nag until she’d scream. Men and their strange need to eventually ask for anal… “Just make it quick.”   “Are you kidding? I’m going to relish on every moment of it.”   He rolled her flat on her stomach, then rubbed the remains of the salve into her shoulders and back. Her muscles were tense, her ass firmly shut. He stroked her rump, only making her anxiety direr.   “Oh, come on. It’s not like I’m the first to do you in the ass!” He grunted, giving her a light slap on one of her round buttocks.   “Yeah, like calling me a slut will make me feel better.” She muttered, shoving a pillow under her pelvis.   Erik sighed. Looks like she won’t be much cooperative. Well, he was in charge, apparently, so he should get down to it. First, he mounted her, his fully awake dick slid between her cheeks, but he didn’t attack yet. Instead, he firmly sandwiched himself and rode her ass, conjuring a muffled coo from her.   Aza sighed, trying to relax. She contemplated having him in her backdoor in the past, but this didn’t seem like a good idea now. She didn’t feel like coughing anymore, her chest was warmed and relaxed. She was still famished and could only lay passively, hoping he won’t get any stupid ideas.   He pulled himself back, marveling at her bum shining from the salve in the warm light of the Dwemer chandelier. No other women had that distinct shape and curve like Redguards.   “Please tell me you’ll just keep staring and jerk-off like a good boy…” she whined.   “Nope.” He said cheerfully, moistening his finger.   Her asshole squeezed and jerked away as he pricked it. He snickered, pinning her thighs with his knees. She whimpered humiliated, biting into the sheets as he pushed inside. She had a fever indeed, he never felt her this hot. He kept poking her, enjoying her being the one to squirm for a change. The rhythmical pulsing around his finger made him wonder how will it fit around his cock. He pulled out with a popping noise, she moaned strained.   “You’re burning up inside!” He noted, groping and squeezing her ass. She was already perspiring.   “Thank you for stating the obvious… Hey!” She cried, suddenly felling his tongue. “Hah! Dirty deep down inside like all men.” She laughed cynically.   “I washed you first.” He replied unaffected.   His tongue played with her little hole, generously salivating all over it. Aza spread her thighs wider, he stuck his thumb in her relaxed, slowly moistening pussy.   “Just don’t forget the lubrication.” She reminded, breathing heavily. She knew the pain was inevitable, but having him inside was something she couldn’t pass up.   “Of course, what kind of insensitive bastard do you take me for?”   He reached for a bottle he hid behind her medicine and poured the content all over his veined cock and her trembling hole. He was growing impatient, but forced himself to keep it cool. This was a delicate matter and could end up nasty if carried out wrong.   The Redguard looked over her shoulder, as Erik’s palms rested firmly at her sides. His tip spread her cheeks apart, finding her hole. He motioned slightly, finding out how tight she was. He noticed her nervous gaze and winked. He knew what he was doing. Or at least he thought so.   Slowly, he pushed the first inch in. The resistance and heat were incredible, but this wasn’t a juicy pussy. Aza arched her back, but didn’t protest when the next inch followed. She just had to endure it.   “You okay?”   “I’m fine. Knock yourself out.” She replied.   His hairs tickled her rump as the rest of his length was inserted. He rested on her flat, pushing most of the air out of her lungs. He bit into her ear, refraining from any sudden moves and giving her some time to adjust.   Anal could be fun, but nothing would ever beat having her pussy fucked and her clit licked. Most of the times the discomfort wasn’t worth it. And with his size it was ripping pain. But she bit her tongue and didn’t complain. He deserved to enjoy himself before…   “You feel amazing.” He whispered into her ear.   “Your first blowjob, your first time, your first anal…” She gasped out, squirming below. “I have nothing more to defile, unless…”   “You keep yourself away from my arse.” He warned, guessing her intentions.   “Typical. It’s okay you tear my asshole, but Gods forbid anyone touches yours.”   “I’m not going to tear anything” he promised, breathing on her neck.   He pushed gently, then with more confidence. The salve greased her enough, and she had time to adjust to his size. He enjoyed the new type of tight flesh so firmly pressing against him. And the heat! He felt as if he was going to melt. He steadily increased the speed and pace, relieved that he could push in and out with less difficulty than anticipated.   Aza wetted the sheet she was biting on. It hurt, even though he was careful. But in time she stretched enough to feel his cock massaging her rectum. The faint pleasure made the whole ordeal a bit less unpleasant. She felt droplets of sweat slide off her sides as he kept pumping her rougher. Her asshole was going numb from the friction and tempo. He filled her completely. There was just one thing bothering her…   “Don’t come inside!” She conditioned. “It’s troublesome.”   “Too late” he said through clenched teeth, about to ejaculate.   He came, shooting his cum deep into her insides. Aza yelped, feeling how her feverish body was filled with his warm foamy sperm. His victorious groan mixed with her curses, his palms firmly held her by the shoulders, his nails leaving marks on her skin. The pressure was unbearable, some of his load shot out. Aza bit her lips painfully hard, her pussy dripped in response.   For a longer moment he rested his groin against her ass, with his eyes closed and head rolled back. He wanted to remember this moment right, knowing she won’t let him do her like this again. Well, maybe under special circumstances, but he suspected that won’t happen anytime soon.   “Fucker…” she groaned.   “Thank you, thank you.” He chuckled, enjoying one last, insanely slow jerk. “No, please, no standing ovations. I know I’m good.”   He pulled out, enjoying the humiliated sounds she made. Though she tried to keep it in, her asshole started to leak his seed. Soon, it was overflowing her thighs and the pillow underneath, some got on her pussy as well.   “This is the last time you get anal.” She said sternly, still laying on her stomach.   “The last time I get anal from you.” He corrected, forgetting most women would scream if he’d tell them he wanted his huge dick in their ass.   “Get me ice. Now!” She demanded, throwing the cum stained pillow at him.   He dodged with grace and sprang up from the bed. Dressing himself, he was humming a tune. His mood was splendid.   As the door closed behind him, Aza quickly got up. She cried a curse in pain, this was going to be a killer for the next few days. She reached for her satchel with a frown, knowing what she was about to do. But she made this decision long ago, and it was for the best.   As she was standing still staring at the little bottle, all of his cum leaked out, marking her legs and the floor. She’ll miss that feeling, though not necessarily in her asshole. She did what she had to do and got back to the initial position, waiting for Erik to come back.   “Gimme!” She ordered, reaching out for the bag of ice he brought. “And drink, you bastard, you deserved it.” She said, pointing at a freshly poured cup of spiced mead. She welcomed the coolness of the ice between her buttocks with a loud sigh.   “How kind.” He smiled widely, raising the cup.   But before drinking, he leaned forward and gave her a quick smooch on the cheek. Aza gasped surprised. She instantly felt terrible. Like a traitor.   “To us, the unstoppable duo!” He said, before drinking everything in one gulp. “What?” He asked, noticing her intense stare.   “Nothing. I’m just glad things worked out for you, that’s all.” She said, faking a smile.   “It wasn’t always pretty. But thanks for everything.” His irises already widened, but perhaps it was the intimacy of the moment.   “You’re welcome.” She replied, beckoning him to join her.   Erik laid next to her on his side. His movements were slow, it was for the best he didn’t stand up. He pulled himself closer, resting his forehead on her shoulder. She slung her arm over him and pulled to his favorite position with his face resting safely on her breasts.   “I’m proud of you.” She quietly said, ruffling his hair. “You’ll be careful, okay?”   “Whaat?” He asked hazily.   “Nothing, sleep.” She comforted, holding him tighter. She loathed herself, but endured her decision as best as she could.   “I don’t want to…” He protested, but his eyelids suddenly felt heavy. His mind slipped into darkness.   Aza kept stroking his hair until his breathing became regular and deep. He was bound to stay asleep for at least twelve hours, she should get some rest before leaving Markarth. To where? It didn’t matter, she knew she’d soon find trouble anyway.   She slept surprisingly pleasantly, only once suffering from a rough spasm of cough. In the morning she slithered form his embrace with a heavy heart. She rinsed herself, got in her armor and packed her things. She took the soothing balm and what was left of the fire salt salve. Although it was cliché and cowardly, she scribbled a quick note, as she couldn’t force herself to leave without at least trying to explain. She gave him one last look, feeling proud and torn. But he was a man, not a lad, and if she’d ever want to be his partner again, she had to give him some time alone.   She left, mustering up all her willpower to keep from looking over her shoulder. Downstairs, she paid the innkeeper for their stay, pretending she didn’t hear how the woman scolded her husband in a tone that would make any man want to kill himself. She left the inn, suddenly realizing how easily she could breathe. His ‘pampering’ did its thing.   Mounting her mare she realized her ass was going to keep reminding of itself for the next couple of days. She quickly dismounted and walked with her side by side. It felt strange to be alone again after so many months with the aspiring farmboy. The Slayer… He should call himself the Ass Destroyer! Her mare neighed miserably, now realizing she won’t be seeing her bay sister anytime soon.   ---   It was around midday when Erik awoke from the poison infused sleep. His vision was blurry, his tongue stiff and dry. He fell off the bed and crawled into the bathing room in his clothes. With tremendous effort, he grabbed the valves and fell on the floor letting ice-cold water pour on him. He spent a longer moment on the floor, licking the pouring water straight from the stone.   “Aza!” He called out hoarsely. He must have got whatever she had. “Aza!” He called again, realizing this wasn’t the flu. It felt like a serious case of hangover, but with a metallic undertone, like… poison.   He tried to get up, only to fall down and hurting his knee, as everything went dark for a second. He stubbornly got up again and made his way back to the bedroom, holding on to the furniture in case his legs give in again.   She wasn’t there. Her stuff was gone as well. He pushed the thought of being abandoned aside, fooling himself this was too unreal to be true. But he was alone.   He noticed the note almost instantly, sticking out like a grave insult. He needn’t read it, its very presence turned his fears into a brutal reality. The bitch left him. Dripping water, he sat on the bed, trying to gather his thoughts. He could hear blood rushing through his temples, his heart was pounding.   He didn’t cry like a whelp. He got angry like a man. He reached for the cursed cup and took a deep whiff. The smell of his drink hid the scent of poison. The clay vessel cracked and broke under his grip, blood flew down his forearm. There was no point in searching or asking anyone, she was far away by now. And he had no intention of staying himself. He had to get out of this city as fast as he could, before he snaps and kills someone.   He sneezed. Great, she did give him the flu after all.   ---   Berthe gave the man at the counter a long, scrutinizing look. He reminded her of someone, but it couldn’t possibly be who she thought. The contrast was too sharp.   “Who are you gawking at?” Her husband Seigmir asked, faithful to his jealous nature.   “That fellow over there, doesn’t he remind you of someone?” She questioned in disbelief.   Her happily wedded followed her gaze. His brows crossed, then rose as he observed a red-haired man argue with the barkeep. He did recognize that face, though the expression was so unfitting for it.   “By the Gods, isn’t that your friend from Rorikstead? The innkeeper’s son, Erik?”   “I think so.” She let her thoughts drift away.   She remembered being friends with him back when she was a young lass in Rorikstead. She used to spend a lot of time with the ginger whelp, even though he was a bit socially awkward and could often be found so deep in his thoughts, that he jumped when you approached him. She remembered that when Seigmir was away fighting the Forsworn, she snuck out with the lad and showed him how to kiss. She didn’t treat the whole thing seriously, as she was engaged with her now husband. Unlike Erik, who took it hard when she explained she liked him ‘only as a friend’.   Months passed, Seigmir returned with enough gold to take her away from the dull hamlet and live happily in Markarth, where he had a steady job as a guard in Cidhna Mine. She had almost forgotten her old life in the quiet village. She would never admit to her new friends, all townspeople, that she used to herd geese.   “I think I should go say hello.” She suggested, attempting to get up from the small table they were dining at.   “No!” He said harshly. “You stay here, woman. If it’s him I’ll give him your hello.”   He approached the counter. The man’s back was facing him, but Seigmir could clearly see how enraged he was. And the axe he was carrying was clearly not for show.   “She paid for everything?” The man’s shoulders tensed.   “Yes, your gold won’t be needed.” Kleppr replied, growing annoyed. He had difficult patrons before, but this was the Silver-Blood Inn. One wrong move, and it’s off to Cidhna Mine with you.   “That bitch. Guess she didn’t say anything more?” He ended the sentence with a cough.   “Only that you are not to be disturbed.”   “Of course she did… I won’t take any more of your time.” The man turned to leave.   He and the mine guard stood face to face. Gods, this was Mralki’s son, but he was so different. So… mature. His eyes were cold and at the same time burning, his jaws clenched tight, pronouncing a scar on his left cheek. He also had a small crescent-shaped cut under his right eye. And he had more than just a few hairs on his face, unlike when Seigmir saw him last; a clumsy smooth-faced whelp, knee-down in dirt from working the field all day long.   “Erik! What a surprise!”   “Get out of my face.” The man said, passing him without slowing his pace.   Even if he recognized Seigmir, he was too infuriated to bother with him. He passed Berthe, the woman gasped seeing the long-healed cut on his face and neck. She felt a strange fire in her womb. She kept staring until the doors shut behind him, trying to remember every detail of that face and posture. It was him! Divines, if she’d knew what would become of that spineless whelp, she’d stay in Rorikstead for as long as she’d have to!   “It wasn’t him.” Seigmir said gravely, sitting heavily next to his wife.   “Are you sure?” She knew he was lying.   “Yes, I’m sure!” He grunted. “It was just some asshole, now finish your food and let’s go home!”   As the couple went back to their meal, Kleppr thought he could have a short brake. A damp rag whipped the back of his head., proving how wrong he was.   “Kleppr!” Frabbi, his venomous wife hissed. “Did you tell that vagabond his room was already paid for? You thoughtless oaf, we could have charged him twice!”

Chapter 8 - I Know You

A Danwguard crossbow was a weapon to be reckoned with. The highwayman trying to ambush the front of the caravan found that out the hard way. A bolt straight in the left ear ended his brief, troubled life. His associates were shot down by the archers of the caravan guard, and that was the end of the brief waylay.   Erik once again admired the weapon for its impact and accuracy. He strapped it back to the side of his saddle, next to the sack with bolts. Though he wasn’t a marksman, a crossbow was handy when one needed to do some damage while on horseback. An axe would be too heavy to swing and maintain balance.   It was the second day since the caravan set out from Solitude, and already the Nord knew this was no ordinary job. Kemon was constantly alert, his men went out on short scout outings, by night an oddly large number of sentinels was deployed. Erik didn’t suspect it was for protecting some precious cargo, he was positive they were on a lookout for someone. He didn’t ask, he got the feeling the less he knew the better.   “That was a perfect shot!” Kemon praised, catching up on his horse; a beautiful white Hammerfell stallion.   “Bows aren’t my specialty, but that crossbow saved my ass more than once.” He replied, patting his mount’s neck. The mare neighed joyfully.   “That is a fine horse.” The Redguard noted. “There are some of the best stables on Hammerfell, but I admire the equines of your homeland.”   “Really?” The hero raised a brow.   Redguard horses were nothing he had ever seen. They were smaller than horses found on Skyrim, with slimmer legs, longer necks and shapelier heads. They were quicker and more agile, yet the climate was obviously alien to them. Their hooves were too small and delicate for the mud and snow, and their hides too thin for the cold, so they had to wear warm horsecloths.   “I do not mock, friend. Your mare might not be as elegant as our horses, but she’s durable and knows her rider. That’s what truly defines a good horse. Well, there is also pedigree, but this isn’t a contest.”   Erik nodded, still alert of the surroundings. This was a large caravan, there were enough scumbags out there who would risk attacking it for whatever it was peddling.   “Is Windhelm a fine city?” The Redguard asked, curious of the land.   “Big, cold and icy. And not just because of the snow.” The Nord answered briefly.   “I hear the rebel leader has his seat there.”   “Jarl Ulfric? Yes, Windhelm is his city, just as Jarl Elisif calls Solitude her home.”   “The war ravages your land as much as it does mine.” The caravanner sighed with sorrow.   Erik gave him another look. Kemon was something between late forties and early fifties. Although he wore robes, he had gauntlets and boots made of ebony and on his hip was a Dwemer war axe. His head was bald, though he had a wiry white beard, fashioned in a long braid, held together by red leather strips. His face was constantly focused, his light gray eyes were unusual for a Redguard, peering into them made one feel instantly guilty of some major offense.   The caravan composed of experienced guards and colorfully dressed women. All were natives to Hammerfell. The others, aside from Kemon and his right hand man, Abdal, stirred clear of the hero. Was it either because of his role, or mayhap because he was a Nord, Erik didn’t know. And he didn’t care. His job was to get them safely and quietly to Windhelm, not make friends. Though, he did notice some of the women kept staring at him, commenting how strange it was his hair was like copper. He brushed it off, despite feeling his ego stroked.   “Tell me, friend, are you curious of our purpose?” The man inquired.   “Nope. As long as you don’t try to slit my throat in my sleep and leave my naked, robbed body somewhere off the road, I’m good.”   “Ah, I see that you are a wise man indeed.” Kemon laughed. “My wife would like you.” He added with a smile. Erik didn’t ask why he hadn’t met Kemon’s wife. “She likes people with a sense of humor, no matter how dark. Speaking of which, we should set up camp. Is there any place where we wouldn’t be exposed?”   The Nord consulted his map. After two days of travel at this pace, they just passed Dragon Bridge, entering less populated terrain. There should be a place nearby that was large and remote enough to safely camp. They made haste, before it got dark. Whilst the men set out the tents, he maintained his distance and groomed his horse.   “What?” He puffed, seeing her stare at the beautiful, shiny Hammerfell horses. “Forget them, girl. They might be slim and pretty, but you are the bravest and strongest of them all. Just wait until the snow gets really thick, we’ll see how they’ll handle that.”   The bay mare snorted at him with a pleased nicker. Erik tenderly ruffled her mane. He couldn’t see, but he was observed by a pair of clever blue eyes. The person who watched him banter with his horse was an old acquaintance, though he had no recollection of their meeting.   The girl minced her sleeve. It was him, no doubt about it: the man who saved her from three thugs in the woods near Solitude. It was months ago, but she still remembered the fear and humiliation, after a silver-tongued rogue convinced her to meet him in the woods by night. She was fooled and almost ravaged, weren’t it for the red-haired adventurer who swooped in and beheaded the bastard and his two fellow bandits.   And after he was done, he just… told her to go. Ignored her. And instead of thanking, she yelled obscenities at him. She felt embarrassed for acting so foolishly, but she was so scared back then. She regretted her rudeness, mayhap if she’d be friendlier, the striking hero would take her with him, far away from her overprotective parents and the cursed caravan life.   She sighed. That whole adventure was unpleasant, but thankfully she managed to sneak back to camp undetected. Neither mother nor father suspected anything, so she was safe and slowly the whole incident faded away.   And now he was here. Why? This couldn’t be mere coincidence! He must have seen her in Solitude and decided to join the caravan to speak to her! He could pretend to be unaware of her presence, but she was positive the adventurer fancied her! Oh, when will he finally approach her and confess he missed her ever since he saved her life and chastity? She couldn’t wait!   “What are you doing, dear?” Father asked, patting her shoulder. The girl jumped.   “Nothing. I’m just… bored.” She quickly lied.   “Bored?” Father’s gray eyes flickered. “Well then, why don’t you help the women prepare coffee for everyone?” He suggested.   “Papa…” Her face had a sour look. Father’s answer to everything was always chores.   “Come on, help with the coffee and then take care of your pet. I bet she’s bored as well.”   “And cold.” The girl added, before rushing off to the bonfire where the women were busy with the aromatic brew.   Kemon observed his daughter disappear behind one of the tents. She was a good lass, just a bit impulsive and stubborn for his taste. Just like her mother. He shrugged it off and called for the Nord.   “Yes?” Erik asked, finishing braiding his mount’s tail.   “Come, join us.” The Redguard beckoned.   “I don’t mean to fuss.”   “I insist. You’re our guide, not a beggar. And if you’re in the mood, might you entertain me with a bit of conversation? I’m very much interested in your land and customs.”   Despite his protest, Erik was led by Kemon to the main bonfire, where there was already a feast waiting on carpets laid around the fire. He sat down, accepted a bowl and ate, whilst Kemon was busy chatting with Abdal, the head of his guards; a burly, yet well-spoken man with the edge of his left ear ragged. Erik’s guess was an arrow missing the man’s eye by an inch.   “Tell me, Erik, is it true your land is now home to dragons?” The caravanner asked, after they both finished their meal.   “Was.” The adventurer replied.   “What do you mean ‘was’?” The Redguard was intrigued.   “The Dragonborn took care of them.” He explained, feeling uncomfortable. He was a part of it, but no one would ever believe him.   “Dragonborn? Forgive me, our caravan first travelled north, to High Rock, then east, and was grounded near Solitude for several months, so we don’t know much of your history and beliefs. We… tend to keep to ourselves.”   “The Dragonborn is the Nords’ fabled dragonslayer.” Abdal cut in. “I… Well, me and the boys went out to a tavern some time ago and heard the bard sing.” He added with a grin.   “Tavern, you say.” Kemon shot his guard a sharp look.   “It wasn’t my turn to keep watch, so I am excused.”   “That remains up to debate, but we’ll talk about it later.” He motioned closer to Erik. “Tell us more, friend. We’re all curious.   Now did the hero notice that some of the guards and women joined them around the fire, waiting for him to spin a tale.   “Well… I don’t think I’m the right person to ask, I’m just an adventurer. I don’t think I can do the hero justice.” He tried to backpedal. “All I know is that the Dragonborn is a mortal with the blood of a dragon, can consume dragon souls and use the Voice. And they’re the only one worthy enough to slay Alduin.”   “Satakal.” Kemon corrected. “At least, that is our name for the force that destroys one world, to make room for the new one.”   “Thank you, but I like this world very much.” Erik’s nose crinkled.   “So do we!” Abdal laughed, the crowd applauded. “Do you know any songs?”   “I do… but you don’t want to hear me sing.” The Nord joked.   That was enough to dull the crowd’s interest. Abdal and Kemon exchanged some words, going through their supplies and guessing the weather for the upcoming journey. Erik was left to himself, he reached towards the fire, warming his palms.   “A drink, my lord?” A young voice asked.   Erik turned to his right, facing a young girl, offering him a small ceramic cup. She had astonishingly blue eyes. She was strangely familiar, but he couldn’t pin a name to her face. She had pouty lips, her hair was long, fastened in a large bun, fixed together with colorful scarves. She was fourteen at least and still had some baby fat on her.   “What’s that?” He asked, accepting the cup.   “It keeps sleep at bay.” She revealed with a wide smile.   “Thank you.”   “Do you know stories?” She sat on the edge of the carpet he was occupying.   “A lot. Though, I don’t think you’d like them.” He politely tried to end the conversation.   “What makes you so sure?” She shook her head, he noticed she had several piercings in her ears.   “Zia!” Kemon’s harsh voice reprimanded. “Leave the man, can’t you see he’s tired?”   That name! Erik gripped the cup hard enough to feel the heat painfully on his palm. The girl pouted and in a second she was gone.   “Forgive my daughter. She’s very curious.” The Redguard apologized. “The months she spent pent up in Solitude are paying a toll on her.”   “No harm done.” The adventurer tried to keep his tone casual.   Maybe it was a coincidence? Maybe she wasn’t that certain girl named Zia. After all, his own name was relatively popular. He took a sip of the mystery drink and almost gagged. It wasn’t too hot, but incredibly bitter.   “Not your kind of beverage?” The caravanner patted his back.   “What is this?” Erik coughed, but hadn’t let go of the cup. Maybe the next sip will be more pleasant? It wasn’t.   “Coffee. It’s a popular drink on Hammerfell. The beans grow on Valenwood, but it was Redguards who mastered the art of brewing and drinking it. Sadly, ever since Hammerfell succeeded, the price of the beans rose.”   “It’s not bad… Maybe with a shot of milk and some honey?” Erik tried to be polite.   “Ah, you Nords and your sweet teeth!” Kemon drank his own coffee with a smirk.   There was a subtle laugh, as if a giggle of a woman. Erik felt someone nudge his back. He looked over his shoulder to see who it could be and faced the strangest… and ugliest animal he had ever seen. It was a strange type of wolf… but it didn’t seem one. It was grayish-brown, spotted, with large, round ears resembling that of a bear. It had a dumb-looking short maw and an arched back, with a mane going through its length. Its large, round eyes stared at him with all the stupidity the creature could muster, its sharp teeth had bits of fresh meat between them.   “What in Oblivion…?”   “Aza! Go away!” Kemon bend forward and slapped the beast’s nose. The animal laughed and scuttled away.   “What was that creature? I hadn’t seen it before.” He asked shocked . Aza?? This evening was getting stranger and stranger. The Nord shook his head in confusion.   “My daughter’s pet. You hadn’t seen her, because she was out hunting. But don’t worry, hyenas have a good sense of smell, she’ll always find a way back to us.”   “Hyena? That’s what you call them?” He asked, looking over his shoulder again, but the beast was out of the ring of light the bonfire cast.   “Yes, though that’s actually what city Redguards call them. Most of us in this caravan come from desert tribes. Our name for hyena alpha females is ‘aza’, so that’s how my daughter decided to name her pet.”   “I see. Could you tell me something more about them?”   “And would you tell me something more about the bears that roam your forests? For us they’re normal and uninteresting, but I can understand you’re curious. They’re matriarchal, the females run the pack. They’re rumored to be scavengers, but can hunt when there’s no other choice. They have a powerful bite, believe me, and could snap your femur like a chicken’s bone. There are many myths surrounding the unusual sounds they make.”   “It sounded like a laugh.”   “Indeed. They laugh even when angry or scared… Why so curious all of the sudden?”   The adventurer took a gulp of the bitter brew to hide his frown, but Kemon was patient.   “My mate has the same name.”   “Ah, then she must be a feisty one!” The man laughed. Apparently, that name on a person meant nothing to him.   “Like you wouldn’t believe.” Erik rubbed the back of his head, feeling a migraine approach.   ---   “Everything okay?” Aza asked, offering Kazi her shoulder. The woman accepted with relief.   “I’m fine, it’s just that I’m growing tired of feeling like this.” She said embarrassed. “Please, make no note of me, I don’t want to be a burden.”   “Nonsense!” Aza assured, helping the woman to her bunk. “You deserve all the help and comfort you need.”   The three of them shared a small cabin Saabi managed to pay for with her last coin. Kazi sighed and made herself comfortable, stroking her belly. The rocking of the ship was thankfully soothing to her and she soon fell asleep.   “Tell me” Saabi started conversation, after making sure her sister was sound asleep. “What are your plans after we arrive to Windhelm?”   “I’m… supposed to meet my partner. I have no idea what’s next.” The heroine confessed, crossing her arms. The room was so small, that the two of them sat on the floor, their knees touching.   “Could you possibly consider escorting a caravan?” Saabi suggested, trying not to sound too eager.   “Caravan? Like, a desert merchant caravan?” Aza rose her brows.   “Yes, like the ones back on Hammerfell.”   “Here, on Skyrim?” The heroine grew surprised.   “I cannot offer details unless you agree.” The woman conditioned.   “I’ll think about it…” Aza dodged the question. “I have some heart-to-heart to do first.”   “I see.” Saabi nodded. “I too have to have a talk with my husband. I hope he’s doing well without me. Oh, he’s a wise man, he just needs…”   “Careful guidance?” Aza grinned. Men, however strong and wise they thought they were, they still needed someone level-headed by their side.   “Exactly. And I miss my little girl. Do you have children?” She asked curiously.   “Had.” The adventurer replied bitterly. Irrationally, she felt hurt by the question.   “I’m sorry.” Saabi quickly backed away.   “It’s okay. It was a long time ago. I almost forgot it myself.”   Kazi suddenly sat on the bunk, interrupting the awkward silence that filled the cabin.   “Morwha, I’m hungry!” She gasped embarrassed. “Do we have anything to eat?”   Saabi laughed, offering her a platter with dry, but still good apples.   ---   “See those walls? That’s Windhelm.” Erik said, pointing at the city in the distance.   Finally, after so many days of slowly navigating through snow and ice, they reached the City of Kings. And as the hero suspected, the cold was paying it’s toll on the Redguards and their horses. Still, Kemon remained alert, his guards and scouts operating at full capacity. And the women, despite the cold, were energetic and cheerful, as always. Something told him they were not caravanners by trade… But that didn’t matter anymore. The job was almost done and he could move on.    “It looks magnificent.” Kemon straightened up in his saddle to get a better look.   “The trip has been safe so far.” Abdal said with relief. “I’m not sure whether that’s good or bad.”   “You leave thinking to me.” Kemon said firmly. “Just let us set up camp, and you’ll get your gold.” He addressed their guide.   The caravan settled near a frozen waterfall, sheltered from any unwanted attention by one of the last rocky hills. Now did the people and horses native to Hammerfell experience the cruel climate of Skyrim in its fullest. The road from Haafingar to Eastmarch was surprisingly smooth, save for some random animal attacks and another desperate group of outlaws. But there were no losses and eventually, they got to their destination.   “Thank you for leading us here safely.” The Redguard thanked, presenting Erik with a silk coinpurse. “And… for your secrecy.”   “I’m just a simple traveler. Whatever your purpose is, I needn’t know. I have my own problems to take care of.” He said, accepting payment. “I’ll be on my way now.”   “I bid you good fortune, then.”   They exchanged some final pleasantries, before the adventurer tended to his horse.   “You’re leaving?” He heard a surprised call, as he was making sure he had all his belongings packed before setting off to the City of Kings.   Zia appeared from behind the mare. He clenched his muscles, trying to avoid finding any similarities in her features. But her nose… and that familiar confrontational stance. He was still uncertain whether her name was just a coincidence. After all, the name ‘Aza’ meant nothing to Kemon.   “Yes.” He tried to deprive his voice of any emotion.   She stared at him, biting her lip. Her shoulder met with the mare’s chest, the mount’s ears erect alarmed. Tension was in the air.   “Will you take me with you?” She pleaded, her cheeks burned.   What? It seemed crazy women found him just their type! He helplessly looked around, but there was no one nearby. Oh, what was he doing? She was just a lass, silly and naive. Why was he so lenient with her?   “No.” He refused boldly.   “Why?” Her tone suggested she was certain he’ll agree. “Why did you join our caravan in the first place, if not for me?”   “What?” He grew confused. “Look, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I agreed, because I was heading to Windhelm anyway, and could use the coin. That is it.”   “Gods…” Zia took a step back, realizing he had no memory of their first meeting. “You don’t remember me!” Her fists clenched. “You don’t remember saving me from bandits in the woods near Solitude!” She almost cried.   “I…” Erik searched his memory. “I do remember saving a girl near Solitude, but I still don’t remember you. I just did the right thing. Besides, it was dark and I was pretty tired. And hungry.”   “You oaf!” She yelled, tears ran down her cheeks. The horse was startled, but he held its reins with confidence. “Go then, you vagrant! See if I care!”   Zia spun and ran to the rest of the caravan, leaving Erik speechless. He quickly shook it off and got in his saddle. He had more pressing matters, than bothering with high hopes of some naive girl.   ---   He was on his way from the docks to the upper district. He was told by one of the sailors that the ship from Solstheim is due in another few hours, so he had some time to spare. He decided to eat wholesome Nordic cuisine at Candlehearth Hall, paying no mind to how overpriced the place was. Then, he could contemplate a bit in the temple.   Hours flew by, and he had just exited the sanctuary. He still had some time to kill, so he decided to wander the city. Though it was getting dark, he went down the icy steps leading to the cemetery. He just wanted to use it as a shortcut to reach the opposite end of the city, but then the strangest thing happened.   He walked at an energetic pace, when from behind one of the tombstones a young lassie appeared. She gasped loudly, seeing a stranger with an axe approaching her out of nowhere.   “Sorry!” Erik said immediately, taking a step back. “Sorry, miss, didn’t mean to scare you. Just passing by.” He made an apologetic grimace, turning right, where the alley would take him out of the cemetery.   He was unaware of it, but the girl’s name was Nilsine, and she was of the well-known and respected house Shatter-Shield. She had lost her twin sister to a lunatic over a year ago. Ever since, her mother drowned her sorrow in drink, neglecting her remaining daughter. Father just became more distant. Nilsine grew up used to being the second favorite child, yet after Friga died she hoped something would change.   But nothing had changed. Nilsine sometimes felt as if she hadn’t existed at all. No one would give her the slightest bit of affection. She had no desire to be at the center of attention at all times, but desperately wanted to be noticed.   One evening she was walking home after a particularly slow day. She hadn’t sold any flowers from her basket, and now they were half-weathered and useless. It was late and few people were out, most were already in their homes or at the inn. Nilsine passed a lowly beggar, who had lost his legs at the Great War. The man lamely shook his bowl, but she had no gold on her.   Looking back, she had no idea why she acted the way she did. She threw her basket on the ground and stomped with blind fury. Then, she looked the beggar straight in his colorless eyes and pulled her skirt up. She feverishly masturbated in front of the lowlife, until she came like never before. Her orgasm gave the relaxation and bliss she needed so bad, but never received from another.   The beggar stared with his mouth opened, but hadn’t made the slightest move the whole time the girl pampered her pussy in from of him. When she was done, he cleared his throat and stared down at the stumps that were once his legs, until she was gone.   This became their strange, silent ritual. Whenever Nilsine needed to feel important for someone, or just relieve some stress, she would seek the hobo and show off in front of him. They never spoke a word, and the beggar never reached out to touch her. He knew the moment he would, the lass would get scared and flee, never gracing his bleak life again.   But Windhelm was a cruel city. A few days ago, she learned her silent admirer froze to death overnight. Funny, she never learned his name, she didn’t even know the sound of his voice. But the death of the anonymous vagrant was a blow to her already crippled heart.   Tonight was the worst. She couldn’t stay at home, she needed to get out. She thought visiting her sister’s grave would be a good idea, but felt little comfort whispering confessions to the cold tombstone. It dawned upon her, that the only reason she would visit Friga’s grave, was to wallow in self-pity.   And here was this strange man, no doubt a traveler. They were alone in the stillness of the cemetery. It was late, little chance someone would be passing by. The stranger was backing away, apparently convinced he scared her. With Nilsine’s every drumming heartbeat, he was getting farther and farther away from her.   “Wait!” She called out at an impulse. “Please, don’t leave.” She pleaded, feeling blood rush faster through her head.   “Why, are you in trouble, miss?” He asked, halting.   Damn it, this was a cemetery, it was late, and she was a young and pretty thing. How could he not ask if she was alright, at least to clear his conscience.   “Please don’t speak.” Nilsine felt numbingly relaxed. It was time for a show. “But don’t go. Just… watch.”   She stepped from behind the waist-high tombstone and tiptoed closer to a memorial wall. Her rump pressed against a plaque in the stone with a name of a long-dead queen on it. She looked around just to make sure, then unlaced the front of her dress.   “Whoa there!” Erik raised his hands to stop her. “You don’t need to do that to make me help you.”   “Don’t come any closer!” She cried, suddenly startled. “Please, just keep looking.”   Erik froze dumbfounded. What was going on? Was this an ambush? He tensed, but he was certain they were alone. Was she insane? Or drunk? Or… wow, that was some fine pussy.   Nilsine pulled her skirt up and tugged it behind her belt. She wore no undergarments, which was strange for someone living in a city as cold as Windhelm. She supported her back against the wall and pushed her hips forward, straddling her legs. She had a bouncy ass and thighs, her vulva was just a tiny slit between her flushed cheeks.   She impatiently freed her breasts from the uncomfortable dress, they jiggled hypnotizing slow before setting. She cooed softly, stroking her outer lips. On a whim, she reached behind her head and let her brown hair loose. With half-shut eyes she made sure the stranger was looking at her, but it wasn’t her pussy he was marveling at.   “Don’t look at my face!” She gasped, blushing heavily. “Look at my pussy, but not my face.” She pleaded, growing embarrassed.   Erik coughed, but gave in to her request. His eyes went from her feverish face, down her shamefully exposed tits, to her now full-spread vulva. She was incredibly wet in such a short moment. She was now running her fingers up and down her slit faster and faster, coating them in the clear juices. A lot of it streamed between her ass-cheeks, moistening her asshole. She dared to moan louder, reaching for her breast. She pushed it up and suckled on her nipple, fiercely biting into the pale, barely distinguishable areola.   She could feel his eyes piercing right into her very womb. Dear Gods, he was watching her! And he liked it! When he’ll leave, he will be thinking of her for a long time, possibly even dream of her tonight. Have her full, bouncy tits under his eyelids, and her ripe, overflowing cunt imprinted in his brain.   She noticed an icicle hanging from one of the nearby statues. Without hesitation she reached for it and cracked off the stone. She then proceeded to suckle on it loudly, until the tip was blunt enough to be safe.   She stuffed the length of the ice into her flaming pussy, crying with pleasure when the cold met with her hot insides. The ice began to melt quickly, wet streams of water and her dews flew down her fingers and thighs, steaming in the cold air, forming a glistening puddle between her legs. Gods, almost there!   The hero feasted his eyes on the girl fucking herself with the impressive icicle until it was short and thin. When Nilsine realized she used up her toy, she grunted like a madwoman and brutally shoved her fingers inside, almost her whole palm went in. She snapped them rapidly, feeling her walls tremble, her cervix swell.   She came. Divines, how did she come! All the water that remained within gushed out with a loud spurt. She quivered, but managed to maintain balance, her fingers still deep inside her. She realized she drooled a bit, but was still relishing on this forbidden pleasure. She was dirty, possibly even a bit crazy. Oh, but how good she felt right now! He was still gawking, he saw the whole thing. And she was sure he’ll never forget it.   “Oooh…!” She let out a relieved moan, sliding down the wall, resting her ass in the wet mess she made below herself. “Ah…” She looked up at the traveler, at his clear blue eyes and confused look. “Thank you. I’m all good now.”   Erik rubbed the back of his head, finally looking away. This was one of the strangest things to happen to him, and he saw a lot of strange things.   “I better get going.” Was all he could say.   ---   He wasted enough time at the cemetery, the ship was bound to sail to Windhelm soon. He went back the way he came, only to find a familiar figure standing at the stone pier at the docks.   “Kemon.” He said surprised, approaching the Redguard. “What are you doing here?”   “I’m waiting for a ship.” The man stated the obvious, no more surprised. “And you?”   “Same.”   They stood side by side awkwardly. There were only a few people at the docks, mostly sailors and merchants.   “My wife is on that ship.” Kemon confessed to break the eerie silence, unaware he made Erik’s insides suddenly feel cold.   “Really? I was wondering why I hadn’t met her.” He replied breathlessly.   “Yes, she and I have been apart for so long… It feels like years.” The Redguard said with a sigh. “We… had some troubles, and we were forced to be apart for some time. But now she’s coming back.” He went on, his face softened.   “I’m surprised you came here all by yourself.” The Nord managed to utter through clenched teeth.   “It wouldn’t be wise to draw much attention to myself. I thought about taking Zia with me, but she was strangely moody today. Oh, my wife must miss her, she hadn’t seen her for so long, she might be surprised of the young lady Zia is growing up to be.”   Erik felt like Kemon spat in his face. This couldn’t be mere coincidence. He really was her… husband. How did he learn of her?! What did he intend to do now? How… how dared he think he had any rights, after over ten years had passed? Did she know? How would she react seeing the both of them waiting for her?   “I don’t think she’s expecting me, I want to make this a surprise.” Kemon said, making things worse.   He eyed the man with newly found contempt. That bastard! Did he know Erik was her partner? If so, he was one false-hearted son of a bitch. If not… Well, he had no intention of backing off, letting Kemon handle things from here. She was his. His!   “You know, I’m surprised she’s sailing from Solstheim, since your caravan was stranded in Solitude.” He noted, failing to flush the venom from his voice.   “Forgive me for saying so, my friend, but that is none of your business.” Kemon replied defensively. “I can assume the mate you mentioned is also on that ship?” He asked, pointing at the vessel’s silhouette now visible on the horizon.   “Yeah. My mate.” He confirmed, stressing the word ‘my’.   Was Kemon playing a game and pretending to be stupid, or was he truly unaware of Erik’s involvement? No matter. There weren’t that many people around. Just one good swing and he could dump the body in the water. If anyone notices, bribe them, he had enough gold. Then grab Aza and be out of Windhelm as soon as possible. The boarder to Morrowind wasn’t that far, it was time to get out of Skyrim anyway. And never-ever breathe a word to her about Kemon finding her.   The ship was now at shouting distance. Erik braced himself for the inevitable.

Chapter 10 - Going South

“They’re harlots, you know.” Aza commented, approaching her partner.   “What?” Erik looked over his shoulder, still busy with packing her stuff onto his horse.   “The women. They’re harlots.” She said, sipping her coffee. She hadn’t had any in so many years, she almost forgot she used to have stomach aches afterwards. She drank nonetheless. It was more about the memories the bitter taste brought, than the actual coffee itself.   “Don’t be judgmental.” He snorted.   “Erik, they’re really harlots. I know Redguard prostitutes when I see them. And those are not caravan members. They’re fine whores.”   “Wha… Why are they here, then?” He grew incredulous.   “We’ll soon find out. Thanks” she suddenly changed topics. “Thanks for making the decision for me.”   “Always. How are you holding on?”   “Better than I would expect.” She realized. “Now that I saw her I can stop imagining how good or bad things would turn out for her. It’s done. There’s nothing more I can do.”   “You’re at peace?” He asked hopefully.   “I should. But I’m not.”   “Well, I’ll keep you company at night and we’ll try to work something out.” He winked, brushing her side. She snorted, finishing her brew.   “Ahem!” One of the inconspicuous women coughed, approaching them. “I think it’s time I finally introduced myself. Because I am certain Kemon won’t bother.”   “I remember you.” Erik recalled. How could he forget her! She had the looks and demeanor of a princess. And the body of a, well, harlot.   “I hope you do!” The woman said with a wink. “Now that you two will be something more than a convenient tagalong, I thought we should get ourselves acquainted. My name is Excella. Yes, I am aware that is not a Redguard name but it is what I chose to call myself. Regardless, I speak on behalf of my sisters. If you want to have anything to do with them, you talk to me.”   “Mhm… And what business could we have with you and your sisters?” Aza asked, amused.   “Oh, I like to show, not tell.” Excella smiled innocently, stroking her impressively thick and long braid. “You can stop by our tent for a demonstration anytime, big sister.”   Aza smiled. Damn, it was a long time since she enjoyed the touch of a kinswoman. Maybe the two of them… or even the three of them could… No. Stop, you stupid slut. This is serious business, precious lives are at stake, whilst you’re thinking about having your pussy eaten!   “You are a sight.” The heroine swore, collecting herself. “But we’re here to do a job. Besides, my Erik and I were separated for so long… We have a lot catching up to do.”   “Ah!” The harlot gasped, clasping her hands. “Foolish of me… Of course.” She eyed the Nord with lecherous fascination. “Still, if either of you would like to keep me and my sisters company… We would be more than happy to have you.”   “I win!” Aza boasted when they were alone.   “Okay, you can spot a whore form a mile away, big deal.” Erik snarked. “Did you see the look she gave me?”   “Are you kidding? I’m surprised she didn’t drag you away. Kemon must have been sheltering them from any outsiders for months. I’m pretty sure they’re all very curious about the local flavor. Poor things… I bet they’re feeling lonely…” She sighed, allowing herself some innocent fantasy about giving herself to the colorful group of well-trained harlots.   “Do you think we could…” Erik dared muse. “No. We have a job to do.” He sighed heavily.   “Yeah, this is too important to get distracted by some pussy…” Aza shook her head to dispel the lewd pictures her imagination painted. “Even if it’s the finest sort. I guess you’ll just have to do if I feel the itch.” She teased.   “Hey!”      “We’re planning our route.” Abdal announced, approaching them. “You have experience, big sister?” He asked, eying the heroine with purely businesslike interest.   “More than you can imagine.” She replied briefly. “I’ve escorted my share of caravans across the sands.”   “Good.” Abdal smiled pleased. His accent suggested he was from Stros M’kai. “Come, we need to discuss a few things. And this,” he handled Erik a large rolled piece of canvas, “is your tent. Now that you’re staying for longer Kemon figured you could use one. Large enough for two.”   “Great!” The hero accepted the gift. Up to now he slept in his bedroll close to the bonfire. It will be nice to have some privacy together.   They headed to where Kemon and Saabi were bending over a large map stretched on a tree stump. The sheet was clean, with no notes or scribbles.   “We’re heading south. Our current goal is passing Eastmarch and getting to the Rift.” The head of the caravan revealed, tracing the border between the holds with his finger. “Since you two know the land I want your honest opinion. What’s the safest route?”   The two adventurers whipped out their maps, both littered with notes known only to their respectful owners. They stood side by side, every now and then peeking on the other’s map and comparing with their own.   “I wouldn’t recommend following the main road.” Erik warned, consulting his map. “Since you want to keep out of sight, I’d follow the Black River. It will be slower… But less obvious.”   “The part of Eastmarch we’ll be travelling through is mostly hot springs. Lots of open terrain, and we’ll be in plain sight if we wander away from the river, but the climate is pleasant and we’ll always have a steady source of water.” Aza added.   “Here”, Erik tapped a spot on the large, clean map, “is Darkwater Crossing. It’s a small village of fishermen and miners. I know a man there who knows the land like the back of his hand.”   “No.” Kemon cut the conversation short.   “Habibi…” Saabi gently, but firmly, cut in. “Let the man continue.” She encouraged the Nord with a smile.   “Derkeethus is his name, he’s an Argonian. He can help us and I can guarantee he’s trustworthy.” He promised.   “What makes you so sure?” Kemon questioned, crossing his arms.   “I pulled him out of a Falmer hive.” The hero boasted. That was a story!   Aza whistled impressed. Nice. Risky, but nice. Some part of her wanted to say how stupid it was of him to go alone, but she curbed that little overprotective voice. He knew what he was doing.   “What are these Falmer you speak of?” Abdal inquired, rubbing his chin, curious of the dangers lurking in Skyrim’s darkest corners.   “They used to be elves, until Ysgramor drew them out. The dwarves took them in and… well, enslaved. Centuries of living underground turned them into evil, twisted creatures.” Erik shook his head in disgust. “And the stench!”   “Agreed.” Aza waved her hand in front of her face as if warding herself from a nasty odor. “Whoever would pull me out of one of their hives would be my true friend for life.”   “We shall see once we get there.” The head of the caravan dismissed. “For now we should move out, we wasted enough time camping here.”   The caravan was ready to head out. With Kemon on his horse in the front and Abdal securing the back, they proceeded south, towards the Aalto. The pair of adventurers were close to the head of the caravan, but out of earshot. Since the paint mare was too weak to be ridden, the heroine walked at her side. Erik did the same, so that they could converse freely after being apart for so long.   “Please don’t tell me that’s a hyena.” Aza moaned embarrassed, spotting the animal prancing around the wagon with Saabi, Kazi and the girl that was once hers onboard.   “It is.” He crushed her hopes. “Why would you name yourself after such an ugly thing? Because you weren’t born under the name you now use, right?”   “It wasn’t me.” She refuted annoyed. “The boys named me like that. It stuck later, since I saw no reason to use my old name.”   “The boys?”   “Yeah. The ones from the weapon caravan that found me half-dead in the desert. I whored myself to them in exchange for food and shelter, remember?” She reminded carefree, as if that wasn’t part of a traumatizing memory. “I was beaten and almost dead, but I could still bite and laugh.” Her tone suddenly lowered. “I guess I’ll have to tell him’ right?” She sighed, staring at the back of Kemon’s head, several meters ahead of them. “He’ll want  to know everything in full detail, even though he knows damned well what happened after we got separated.”   “I… Shit.” Erik shook his head, unable to say anything smart. “Hey, want to hear about my time with the Dawnguard?” He changed topics, hoping to catch her interest. They both knew this trip will be painful, and not just physically. No need to spoil their moods now, just as they were back together.   “Sure! I’m dying to hear about your careless exploits!” She teased, bumping her hip against his.   Though they had to stay alert, he talked for hours, unraveling an unbelievable tale about vampires, ancient prophecies, the Soul Cairn and immensely powerful artifacts. Aza listened in, gasping, laughing or uttering ‘bullshit!’ at the appropriate moments. The story was unbelievable and crazy. But then again, so was what she went through on Solstheim. Not to mention, that after travelling to Sovngarde to kill a legendary world-eating dragon, one tends to believe a lot more than they would normally do.   “And all that time, you hadn’t contracted the vampire curse?” She asked in disbelief.   “No!” He protested offended. “I didn’t want to become a bloodsucker, and I was always cautious and had cure disease potions with me. I’m not as reckless as I used to be, you know?” He pouted dramatically, looking her in the eyes.   “And the vampire temptress? Did she lure you into her arms with her vampire charm?” Aza made a grimace.   “Jealous?” He inquired with a cocky look.   “Over an ancient corpse that only thinks of you as sustenance? Please.” She replied with dignity. “She’d bite your cock off.”   “Probably. Still, she was nice to look at.” Erik remembered Serana’s noble brow and sensual lips.   The caravan suddenly halted. One of Kemon’s scouts came running to them, he was visibly alarmed.   “Kemon wishes to see you two.” He said urgently, reaching to relieve them of their reins. “Go see him.”   The two made haste to the front of the caravan where Kemon was questioning the second of his scouts, sent ahead to scour the area.   “Giant.” He sad gravely, as if he spoke of a calamity. “Straight ahead, impossible to pass.” He added. “I was hoping you could offer advice.” He addressed the Nord.   “Giants are not uncommon in these parts.” Erik rubbed his chin, ignoring the spite in the man’s voice. Or maybe he was imagining it? “Generally, we let them go about their business and wait for them to leave.”   “That one is no strangler. It has a camp just ahead, blocking the road. It’s not going anywhere.” The scout revealed.   “Then we kill it!” The head of the caravan decided with force. “You two can assist my men…”   “Bad idea.” Aza protested quickly. Were it Erik to oppose Kemon, a struggle for dominance would erupt. Men and their need to be on top. “Giants are best either avoided or… pacified in some other way. You go there with armed men and I can guarantee there will be casualties.”   “And what do you propose we do?” He asked, narrowing this thick eyebrows. His grey eyes pierced the woman. Back on Hammerfell, when they were together… He never had that hardiness. He changed. Just as she.   “Does anyone know their herbs around here?” She asked, already planning what to do.   “Saabi does.” Kemon pointed out.   “I’ll go talk to her. You two try not to whip your dicks out and try to impress the other while I’m gone, okay?”   She left them dumbfounded. The scout snickered, but ceased the moment Kemon’s eyes turned to him.   ---   “Yes, just let me get my ingredients!” Saabi immediately crawled to the back of the wagon and rummaged through her supplies. “I just hope there’s enough to work on a giant!”   Quickly, she grabbed a few bottles and sacks with dry herbs. When she was all stocked up on ingredients, they made their way to their men.   “I am not taking chances!” They heard Kemon’s voice raised in anger.   “It’s pointless cruelty, not precautions!” Erik snapped back.   “I knew they’re going to be at each other’s throats the moment they’re alone.” The heroine grunted annoyed.   “Yes… My husband is a good man, but strict and adamant when it comes to our safety.” Saabi admitted. “He’s just so consumed with protecting us, he can sometimes seem… cold.”   The younger woman bit her tongue. She remembered a different Kemon. Less of an asshole. But did she have any right to judge him? She wasn’t always this cynical and depraved.   “Is everything alright?” The older woman entered the scene where the men were on the brink of getting physical.   “No.” They said unison, shooting glares at each other.   “What’s going on?” Aza sighed, but left Saabi to do the talking.   “Our friend here thinks that the well-being of one giant is more important than our safety and destination.”   “I don’t see any point in leaving a blood trail behind.” Erik snapped back.   Saabi was as sharp as she was patient. Instead of backing up any of the two men she addressed Aza.   “Have you ever encountered a giant in your travels?” She asked casually, refusing to give in to the tension.   “A few times. Peaceful things, unless you threaten their mammoths. They’re not that hard to outmaneuver.” She replied in a similar calm manner.   “Then I propose a compromise.” Saabi now faced Erik. “Since you two are adventurers and are not strangers to giants, I can only assume you know what you are doing. I’m sure the two of you can pacify it and grant us safe passage. Right, husband?”   “I am willing to let them try.” Her man grunted displeased, but made no attempts to force his way.   “Wonderful! Now, let me just prepare my herbs and you two can be off…”   She skillfully whipped out a mixture of herbs and exotic ingredients, an amount she estimated should be enough to put a giant to sleep. In the meantime Erik went to get his crossbow.   “What? Just in case.” He assured, seeing Aza’s brows cross. “You coming or what?”   They walked past the point where the path suddenly took a turn, and entered a gorge just at the side of the river. It was a perfect place for a giant camp, shielded from the wind, sun and any unwanted attention.   The denizen was sitting before a large bonfire, where a robust cow was roasting. The smell of tender meat and smoke hit their nostrils as they drew closer. The giant was turned back to them, busy with some handiwork, perhaps preparing itself food. Just behind him was a large basin with a milky brew, in case the giant’s throat needed wetting.   “You keep that crossbow ready. I’ll sneak up on him and get the mixture into his drink. Then we wait.” Aza whispered, already getting ahead.   Erik crouched and readied his weapon. There was no chance he’ll miss the giant if it somehow notices her and attacks. He observed in tension as his partner got within arm’s reach of the creature.   The Redguard loosened the pouch and quickly poured Saabi’s mixture into the mammoth milk. The intense smell dulled the scent of the drug. She was about to retreat to a safe distance and wait for the denizen to get thirsty, but that was when she noticed just what the giant was so preoccupied with. Jerking-off. The thing worked its massive cock with tenderness and zeal only a respective owner could. Forget Malacath, that thing was as thick as her thigh and as long as her whole arm!   “Well, I’ll be damned…” She shuttered, forgetting all about caution.   With surprising speed, the creature sprang up from the trunk it used as a bench and reached for its massive club, ready to protect its turf. It grunted as a warning, focusing on the small human that somehow managed to sneak behind it.   “Whoa there big guy!” She called out, raising her palms. “No need to get feisty! Everyone needs some alone time… Actually, I can help you with that!” She offered, grinning like an idiot.   Somehow, he must have understood human speech, or more so the familiar jerking gesture she made. The club lowered, the giant’s insipid eyes stared at her with confusion. It was time to act fast.   “It’s okay! Everything is okay!” Aza called out casually, wanting to calm down Erik more than the giant. “Come here, darling…” She purred, patting the trunk. “You just relax and let me give you a helping hand…”   The giant sheepishly sat back and stared at the undressing female. Erik grinded his teeth, dangerously fondling the trigger. Was she really about to…? She was.   Aza threw off the last piece of her armor and got busy. She groped the whole shaft, grinding against it and sliding up and down along with the thick foreskin. The smell was intense, but not as unpleasant as some men she’s been with. Actually, the giant smelled faintly of musk. The skin was velvet soft, warm with the veins clearly visible and throbbing.   “You must be so lonely out here, with no one to show you a good time…” She sighed, feeling the tip getting slippery from the precome.   She slid all the wrinkled skin down and stuck her tongue into the urethra, wiggling with zeal. The giant relaxed, complacent as anyone getting a good stroking of their dick. Aza couldn’t quite believe she was doing this, but considering she slept with a werewolf, jerking-off a giant was nothing new in her long and complicated sex life.   She squatted and grinded her crotch against the pleasantly velvet shaft, motioning up and down, leaving a trace of her own sticky juices. She giggled, realizing she was getting off herself. Oh, the depths of her own depravity… Right, Erik was watching. Well, she hoped he’d be mature enough to stand back and let her solve this peacefully.   The veins thickened and pulsed in short intervals, the titanic cock swelled with more blood, ready to explode any minute. She realized it’s going to be much more than a mouthful. A whole wave of giant cum. That white, thick, sticky shower… she wanted it. And had to act fast, if she’s going to get his load; the creature was inches away from climaxing.   “Oh, come here!” She pleaded with strain, grabbing his big hand and pulling to kneel on the ground. She lied on her back, with the glans just between her thighs, stroking it with her hands, whilst her feet worked the base. “Come all over me!” She groaned, her mind giving in to the lewd idea of tasting his load.   The tide that came a second later was overwhelming. The creature groaned, releasing the biggest load of semen she had ever received. She wasn’t stained with it; she was entirely coated with it. The force of the ejaculation shot some straight into her mouth. Aza gagged and snorted, whilst more and more covered her in sticky, warm layers.   “Whoa…” She managed to breathe when the heavy rod rested on her, completely exhausted and slowly shrinking. “I… no one’s going to believe this, even in a thousand years.” She shuttered, getting up and almost slipping on the sperm. Good thing she took off her armor.   The giant sat back and relished in the afterglow. When the last bits of pleasant glee faded, he grunted something in his primitive language, pointing at a leather sack a few steps away from the fire. Apparently he wanted the human to take interest in it.   “Wow… this is… you want me to take it?” Aza asked, after taking a look inside.   The sack contained fine, creamy mammoth cheese. She heard that giants produced this mysterious food, but never saw any with her own eyes. A small bowl on the market was as expensive as regular cheese of the same quantity served in a golden bowl!   The giant nodded, squeezing out the last troublesome squirts of come that got under his foreskin.   “How much can I take?” She asked, weighting the heavy sack. “All of it?” She nearly squealed when the giant made a circling gesture, covering the entire sack. “Oh!” She tiptoed to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You are just too sweet… You definitely earned yourself a stiff drink!” She suggested with a wink, reaching for the basin behind him and offering with a wide smile.   He took the basin and swallowed the entire milky liquid with a gulp. He burped and gave her a pleased, mindless look. Aza feared the strength of the drug wasn’t enough to put him to sleep, but after another minute or so the giant yawned and bent back on the trunk, falling off straight on its back. The ground shook from the impact.   “Phew!” She exhaled, relieved how smoothly everything went.   “Did you just… give a damned giant a handjob!” Erik appeared right next to her, his cheeks red from bottled-up anger.   “Haven’t you seen the size of that cock? It wasn’t a handjob! It was… a full bodyjob!” She refuted insulted.   “I… just. You still leave me speechless. And appalled.” He shook his head, seeing her soaked and gooey. And that smell!   “Look who learned new words. Oh, stop it. A sliver of my dignity is a small price for safe passage and the creature’s life, don’t you think? In the end I just added one more dirty experience to my biography, but no one got hurt.” She huffed. “And I earned us some nice grub!” She greedily eyed the sack with the finest quality mammoth cheese. Her mouth watered when she imagined slapping a thick layer of it on a freshly toasted piece of bread. With some good ale or mead to wash it all down.   “Congratulations. You whored yourself for food.” He said, grinding his teeth, forcing himself to avoid looking at the enormous dick now slumbering on the hairy, massive thighs of the snoring giant.   “The bonus was unexpected. But not unwelcome. If you don’t want it, you won’t get any of my cheese, suit yourself.” She ignored the insult, brushing off the cum. “I need a quick wash. Be back in a minute. Could you take that sack with you?”   “I’m not your slave.” Erik muttered.   “Oh, come on! I’ll make this up to you!” She promised playfully. “Now come on, give me a hug!” She teased, opening her arms.   Erik jolted away with a disgusted choke. Aza snorted and laughed before rushing into the river.   “Divines…” Erik whispered, watching her dive into the brisk waters. “I hate how forgiving you make me.”   ---   “Well?” Kemon asked impatiently.   “All clear. The giant is sleeping like a log.” Aza assured, Erik looked away when she talked. She was still dripping water, but there were no traces of giant jizz on her.   “And… that?” The man pointed at the sack Erik carried.   “Bonus. No worries, the giant won’t notice. I… slipped and fell into the creature’s larder. I had to clean myself up, which is why it took us so long.” She lied without a blink, knowing Kemon wouldn’t believe her but won’t ask any questions for as long as the deed was done.   “Thank goodness.” Saabi said with relief. “I knew you two can be trusted.”   “Yes, let’s get a move on, before it wakes up.” Kemon said with a scowl.   ---   “Hey…” Aza nudged Erik’s side when they were with their horses and he was tying the sack with the cheese to his mare’s saddle. “I think we should share some.” She suggested. “It will probably go bad before we have the chance to eat it all.”   “I’m sure Kemon will appreciate it.” He said with a sour expression. Nonetheless, he whipped out a smaller sack from his pack and carefully poured about half of the contents into it.   “I’m thinking about Kazi. She needs all the nutrition she can get.”   “The one with the baby? Sure, no arguments from me.” He agreed energetically.   He was raised to treat women with child with the utmost respect. After all, they were creating new life! That was a beautiful… and fascinating thing. Not to mention he felt like an ass, remembering how he scared Kazi in Windhelm docks.   “Such a gentleman. Take it to them, would you?”   “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” He hesitated, remembering Zia was also on the carriage the women took.   “Just go there and give it to her.” Aza shook her head. “Or are you afraid you’ll look like a softie?”   He didn’t argue, lest he’ll have to explain why he didn’t want to talk to Kazi, with Zia as an additional inconvenience. He took the sack and trotted to their carriage.   “Ahem.” He coughed loudly to announce his presence.   “I… yes?” Kazi asked, noticing him.   “Here.” He tossed the sack over the side of the carriage, next to her lap. “You should have this. It’s mammoth cheese, good for you.” He said quickly, trying not to sound abrupt or intimidating. “Got to go.” He excused himself, trying to ignore Kazi’s surprise and Zia’s interest.   “Well, that was nice.” Saabi concluded, groping the pleasantly filled sack.   “It was.” Kazi agreed. “I hadn’t expected that.”   Zia pouted, but said nothing.   ---   The first day of their journey was at an end. And already, it was quite eventful. They camped in a sheltered plateau, close to the steaming springs. The camp was busy, the women, chatting and joking as always, were preparing food.   “You’re awfully broody, habibi.” Saabi pointed out, offering her husband coffee.   “I have a lot on my mind.” He replied, hoping she wouldn’t notice the pain in this voice. The reasons why he was this strained should not be known to Saabi. She needn’t know, lest she suffers like him over things that should be long mourned and gone.   At another bonfire, the one dedicated to the women, the chatty harlots gathered around the bard, pleading and coquetting him to sing. Talsgar was tuning his lute, exercising his voice for a night of song and dance. He didn’t make them plead for too long.   “Oh, there was once a man named Ragnar the Red who came riding to Whiterun from ole Rorikstead…!” He began one of the popular tavern songs.   “I like that one.” Aza said, watching him through half-shut eyelids at the small campfire she and Erik made for themselves. “Perfect for a nice evening with good food.” She added, before stuffing her mouth with cheese. Just like she planned, she had it spread over a crunchy piece of toast, with addition of some dried herbs. Too bad there was no fresh salmon roe…   “There are worse songs, I guess.” Erik replied, warming his palms against the fire. “It makes me homesick.” His voice dropped an octave.   She needn’t ask – he couldn’t visit home for another eight years, not until the bounty on his head expires. Eight years was a lot of time, especially for someone like Mralki, who had little precious years left.   “Are you sure you’re okay with being led in the dark like this?” He suddenly asked, glancing at the central bonfire, where Kemon and his family were dining and chatting. “They are running from something… or someone. Just who or what is so big and dangerous to have a whole caravan forced to travel through strange land?”   “No idea. But, come on! We both know the trade, whatever it is we’ll learn soon enough…” She foretold with an uneasy snicker.   “… Usually under some dire circumstances.” He added. “I’m taking the first watch, I’ll wake you up when it’s your turn.”   “Just don’t overdo it. You need rest yourself.” She conditioned with a yawn. “I don’t want you falling asleep when I finally get my hands on you alone.” She promised, trying to leer like she used to in the good old days when he was still her whelp. But all she could conjure was a warm smile. Too late, she couldn’t lust for him without getting that fuzzy feeling inside.   “I’ll hold on to your word.” Erik took the gauntlet with a wink.   He washed down his supper with mulled ale, then walked past the warm circles of light, into the nippy dark. His job was to keep watch to the east, over the vast plains of hot springs and barren hills. At least he didn’t have to watch the skies, expecting an ominous roar coming from above any minute.   From behind he could hear the usual sounds of a busy camp; songs, shouting and laughing, accompanied by the sound of burning wood and nickering horses. He also heard confident, quick steps closing in on his spot.   “I’m guessing… Kemon.” He mused, seeing the Redguard’s shadow paint itself on a nearby rock.   “There are old wise women back on Hammerfell who make a living out of soothsaying.” The man mocked. “You could learn from them.”   “And there I was thinking you and me had a bond forming. Pity.” The Nord snorted, bracing for an unpleasant conversation. Hopefully, conversation only. “Join me for this fine evening?”   Kemon sat at Erik’s side, saying nothing. A mammoth could be seen far in the distance, possibly a loner too old to be a part of the herd anymore. The two watched the gigantic animal roam across the volcanic landscape.   “It’s big.” The elder man whistled. “We have similar animals in our homeland, but they don’t have hair. We call them elephants.”   “Small world.” Erik said.   “Small indeed…” Kemon agreed. “I am not a man who would hold on to their past.” He suddenly revealed. “What matters to me the most is the present.”   “Same here. But let’s get to the point. I’m just a simple adventurer, no need to get all sophisticated when talking to me. You think there will be complication along the way. And there will be.”   “I understand you want to warn me?” Kemon guessed.   “Warn? I’m not a thug.” Erik protested calmly. “She’s had enough. Not just physically. Don’t add to her suffering.”   “I was there.” The Redguard said through clenched teeth, peering into the Nord’s profile, who was still staring into the distance. “You have no idea what I went through. What my daughter went through.”   “No one else needs to be dragged into this. Just the three of us.” Erik went on.   “Two.” Kemon corrected with force.   “Three.” Erik had no intention of backing off.   “Very well, then.” The older man said after a moment of consideration. “I do not have anything personal against you… But I have too many lives at stake, my friend. I won’t risk lowering my guard.”   “That’s understandable.”   “I’m glad you agree.”   “I don’t agree. I understand.”   “I took your advice under consideration. We will pass through Darkwater Crossing, I hope your Argonian is trustworthy.” The caravanner said as a goodbye, retreating to his position at the center of camp.   Hours passed, the mammoth was now a distant memory. The plains were still and peaceful, save for the sizzling of the hot springs. The adventurer was alone. Or so he thought. Somehow Erik’s gut told him to stay vigilant.   His spot was over the edge of a rise, sticking out no more than a few feet over the rest of the area.  Erik could see clearly the plains – he could also be seen perfectly. He rested the crossbow on his laps, his feet dangling over the edge. His pupils dilated, his hearing attuned to the night. He was certain now that he wasn’t alone.   Rustling came from below. Faint, barely audible, but somehow he could pick it up. It resembled something (someone?) crawling on its belly, right to his position. He didn’t want to raise alarm, deciding to patiently wait for the creature (or person) to reveal itself… or strike.   It was getting closer, the sound was now recognizable. And it was now moving quicker. He saw it; a faint silhouette on the porous ground. It was larger than a skeever, but smaller than a wolf or sabre cat. The whatever it was, it halted, fully aware it was spotted. It’s head rose to look straight at him. The eyes glowed with cold light, peering into his face.   “Come on, don’t be shy…” He encouraged, picking up his weapon, ready to shoot it between the eyes.   “Was I ever?” Aza asked jokingly, surprising him from behind.   “What?” He glanced over his shoulder, then back where the intruder was. It was gone. That brief moment cost him a perfect shot. He hadn’t heard the slightest move, trying to track it now was pointless.   “Something of concern?” She asked, leaning forward, resting her hands on his shoulders. She wasn’t subtle, her rack rested on his head. Just how he liked it.   “Something was creeping up around here. You scared it off.”   “Critters? Or…” She paused, wondering if maybe Kemon’s paranoia wasn’t entirely unwarranted.   “No idea. Do you think it might have been someone sent by whoever is… stalking our caravan?” He mused, letting his favorite pair of tits massage his head.   “We knew this isn’t an ordinary escort job when we signed up. There’s no point in pondering now. For the moment I came to relieve you. Hit the sack.”   He stared into the distance one final time, then gave her a quick smooch before marching to their tent. The bedroll smelled pleasantly, he slipped into her scent and peaceful sleep.   ----   “We are tired.” Excella complained. “Tired, bored and dirty. We want some fun!”   “You have your bard.” Kemon dismissed, adamant to pack up camp and get going.   “Bah! What good is he aside form singing?” The harlot puffed. “We want to enjoy the hot springs!”   “The scouts reported nothing.” Saabi, chimed in. “We can afford to stay here a few more hours.”   “Time is crucial, my light.” The man feebly tried to protest.   “So is morale. The hot springs intrigue the girls, they could use some grooming and leisure, after being cooped up in the cold for so long.”   “You are right.” The head of the group gave in. As usual, Saabi could patiently talk him into doing what she thought was best. “Excella, go and… do whatever you girls do to make yourselves pretty. But we head out at noon, if they’re not ready by then they’ll have to chase us.” He conditioned.   Collective cheering flew across the camp when the women were told they could enjoy a hot bath and some relaxation.   “Come, big sister!” Excella urged, grabbing Aza by the wrist when the heroine was returning from her watch.   “What, something’s wrong honey?” The heroine inquired, trying to crack up a confident grin, but she was too sleepy and hungry.   “We can bathe in the hot springs! You should join us.” The woman smiled.   “Wish I could, but…” Aza caught Kemon passing by. He turned his head to her and nodded, then turned away as if nothing happened. “Sure, lead the way.”   “Good! You can tell us stories! And we are already preparing sugar scrub. You could use it.” She teased, tugging the dark hairs sticking from under the adventurer’s arm.   Aza grunted, slapping the harlot’s behind. Excella spun around with grace and bolted to where the rest were gathering. Temple harlots, no doubt. Or runaways from a noble’s harem. Either way they were too good looking and too playful to come from a lowly brothel or the streets. She followed the excited screams to the secluded part of the camp, shielded from curious eyes by shrubbery and rocks.   Meanwhile, Erik got up and crawled out of the tent. It was early in the morning, but long past dawn. He was surprised that no one woke him up and ushered to get moving, but it seemed they were going to dally for a bit longer.   “We have some time to rest!” Abdal called out, noticing him trotting in place with no apparent intent. “Eat, relax. But Kemon wants to see you in an hour.” He added, heading to the horses.   Pleased, the hero went to get some food. Moments later and sat down with a steaming bowl on a fallen over tree, near where Talsgar was sleeping off a night of song and drink.   “Ah… Kindly share some of that delicacy with me?” The bard suggested, when the smell hit his nostrils. “Stew is exactly what I need… and maybe some mead.”   “Get your own.” Erik replied bluntly.   “You mercenary types.” The bard rolled his eyes with disapproval. “Always so serious.”   The master of lute and song left to get himself some breakfast, Erik was alone, but just for a moment. Kazi waddled nearby, nervously massaging her swollen abdomen. She suddenly burped loudly, then covered her mouth embarrassed. Looking around if anyone saw or heard, she found the redhead.   “I’m sorry! This happens every now and then.” She apologized, staring down at her belly. “I’m so terribly bloated. It must have been that mammoth cheese… There was nothing wrong with it! But it was so good, I couldn’t help myself.”   “It’s no big deal.” He assured, wolfing down his meal. “Want to sit?” He offered, realizing he was acting like a savage.   “Thank you.” Kazi seated herself on the log, whilst the Nord made himself comfortable on the bare ground.   He was pale, so very pale. But the most intriguing thing about him was his hair; copper red, with a golden hue when you looked at it under the light. He wore it loose and swept back, save for two braids at the sides of his face. Kazi admired whilst he was completely focused on eating, unaware he could be of any interest to her.   “Hey, uhh… about what happened in Windhelm.” He said after he was done eating, realizing he never apologized for frightening her back in the docks. “I acted like an ass. I’m sorry.”   “Apology accepted.” Kazi replied, pleased to see he could behave civil.   “Shouldn’t you be bathing with the rest?” He made nonchalant conversation.   “No, in my state it’s not recommended to take hot baths.” She explained, protectively embracing her belly.   “I’m sorry, that was a stupid question.” He shook his head, embarrassed by his own insensitivity. “So…” He tried to make small talk, but had no idea what to say without sounding like a crude simpleton.   “Is there any story behind that scar?” Kazi dared ask, focusing her brown eyes on the side of his face.   “Just as much as with any other scar. It’s not like I got it on a dare or for fun.” He said faster than he could think. “Sorry… I sound like an ass. But that’s not a story you’d want to hear.” He explained apologetically. “Really, it’s nothing heroic if that’s what you’re wondering.”   “I see. Forgive my intrusion.”   “People ask about it all the time. I got used to it.” He managed to sound carefree. “Are you hoping for a boy or girl?”   “I’ve been asking myself the same question. The truth is I just want my baby to be healthy. Would you like to feel it?” She offered.   “Sure!”   He took off his gauntlet and let her put his hand on her tummy. It felt strangely pleasant, though clothed. Unfortunately, he couldn’t feel the baby kicking.   “I think it’s too early for it to get in the mood.” Kazi excused her child’s lack of performance. “Maybe some other time.”   He smiled and nodded, noticing she hadn’t mentioned the father before. He was smart enough not to ask.   ---   “OW!” Aza roared, when the last piece of sugar scrub was removed along with her hair.   “Please stop fidgeting.” Excella reprimanded, whilst another girl was holding on to her leg, giggling like a brat. “For a woman with so much scars you sure are overreacting.”   “Darling, you do not want me to tell you how I got them. You’d piss yourself in your sleep for a week at least.” The heroine dared, fighting tears in the corners of her eyes.   “I’m sure. We’re done here, you are smooth and pretty for your boy.” She teased, signaling her assistant to let go.   Aza stared down at her crotch, almost forgetting how her private bits looked without hair. She kept only a thin strip, more as a decoration than necessity. Perfect, she’ll have to show it to Erik soon!   Meanwhile, Saabi was busy with disciplining her daughter’s hair. Aza tried to look any other way, at the landscape or any of the tempting harlots, but her focus was pulled towards the two of them. Saabi was middle-aged but looked amazingly youthful. Now did the heroine notice that the woman had an old ritualistic scar her shoulder. She vaguely recalled that symbol resembled desert tribe wise women. Interesting.   “Stop iiit!” Zia cried, when Saabi pulled her hair exceptionally hard.   “I wouldn’t be doing this if you weren’t neglecting your hair that much! It’s not hard to brush it yourself.” Her mother refuted, working the knots with a solid ivory comb. “See? I combed out a twig! Twig! What was it doing in your hair, hmm?”   Aza dunked in the hot water. Right, she almost forgot this trip was going to be an emotional torture.   Zia tried to cry a bit, but she wasn’t fooling anyone. She grunted, giving up and letting Saabi do as she pleased with the cursed comb. The big, scary woman bobbed up, splashing water around like a hippo. The girl shrugged, studying  her profile. She was safe, as she was on her blind side; the white opaque eye couldn’t see her staring. Tall Papa, she was marked with scars all over. Suddenly, the thought of living a life of adventure lost its appeal to the girl. She didn’t want it anymore if she ends up looking like that. And it weren’t just the scars, that mercenary had an arm as thick as a man’s!   “Don’t stare.” Saabi patiently reprimanded. “It’s rude.”   “She can’t see me.” The teen talked back.   “That’s no excuse. Be respectful.”   Saabi caught a glimpse of Aza just as the adventurer turned over to avoid a splash of water caused by one of the excited women. Her gaze slipped from the neck, chest and down the abdomen to the old scar between the navel and groin. A c-section scar. Ignoring her own advice she stared at the long-healed cut, remembering a brief exchange they had on the ship heading form Solstheim to Skyrim.   “Do you have children?” She asked curiously.   “Had.” The adventurer replied bitterly.   “I’m sorry.” Saabi quickly backed away.   “It’s okay. It was a long time ago. I almost forgot it myself.”   ---   “I’m going to ask you to accompany me for the rest of the trip.” Kemon debriefed when Erik joined him. “On horseback.” He added, putting his map away and rubbing his eyes with irritation. He looked like a man who had little sleep.   “No problem.” The Nord agreed.   “Good. Since you assure me you know the settlement we’ll be passing, I think it’s a good idea for you to speak on our behalf in order to avoid any… incident. There’s no need to be brash.”   The younger bit his tongue, forcing himself to refrain from commenting on Kemon’s brashness. It wasn’t worth it.   Abdal signaled everyone to gather around and pack up, it was time to move on.

Chapter 6 - Favors

“Adrianne?” Ulfberth peeped out of the shop, hearing loud clanking over at his wife’s forge. “Are you upset about something?” He asked, seeing how red her cheeks were under the layer or grim.   “Of course I am!” The woman slammed her hammer exceptionally hard, making a dent in a shield she was forging.   “What’s bothering you?” He asked concerned.   “What else? The talk of the town!” She said, throwing the damaged shield into the scorching forge.   They both turned their heads to stare up at Dragonsreach. The whole city was talking about the man imprisoned in the Jarl’s dungeon. Some called him a hero and demanded his release, some considered him a common criminal.   “I always believed in the law.” Adrianne confessed, mincing her blacksmith apron. “My father taught me that the law is what separates us from savages, and that it is designed to protect the weak and helpless. But… this is just wrong.”   “I understand you’re conflicted.” Her husband put his heavy palm on her shoulder. “But it’s not up to us to decide. But if it were…” He sighed.   “If it were up to people like us, there would be no need for rulers. Let’s just drop the subject.”   Furious, she took a red-hot rod out of the forge with a pair of thongs, and started hammering it with force.   ---   “A man does something so… unspeakable to his own flesh and blood, and gets just what he deserves. But the man who serves him justice is labeled a murderer?!” Carlotta Valentia’s voice was full of outrage. Despite being an Imperial, she was also a single mother of a little girl. “If someone would hurt my Mila…!” She helplessly shook her fist.   “I know what you mean.” Saffir agreed, she also had a young daughter. “I love my Amren, but if he’d do something so sick to our Braith… I’d kill him. Right on the spot, I’d tear the soul from his chest.” The Redguard woman’s jaws clenched. “Do you know what would happen to a bastard like that on Hammerfell?” She asked with a gleam in her eye.   “You needn’t give me details, I’m sure it’s something adequate.” Carlotta said. “I wonder what will they do to that young man? The Jarl is in a tight spot.”   “This is when the law backfires at you.” Saffir said gravely.   “My mother” Olfina Gray-Mane joined the conversation, “says, that in her day, something so ridiculous as arresting him would never happen. I mean” she leaned forward, her cleavage was shamelessly exposed, but she didn’t notice, “if I was in his place, I’d tear that bastard into shreds!”   “I know him.” There was a quiet voice.   The three women turned to look at Ysolda, who was slowly walking down the steps from the upper district. They nodded, encouraging her to say something more.   Ysolda rubbed her palms, remembering the incident in Nightcaller Temple. She had a few lovers since being deflowered by the young adventurer, but they lacked his… initiative. And his massive cock. As much as it was a one night stand, she wouldn’t mind bedding him again.   “Well, you can’t expect us to stand quiet like this. Tell us more!” Saffir demanded.   “There’s not much to say.” Ysolda was reluctant to share. “But he’s not a brutish oaf.” She said with confidence. “It’s a crime he’s rotting in jail for what every sensible person would do!”   The four women expressed their approval, then went about their daily routines.   ---   “Milk-drinkers, all of them!” Aela shouted, chugging her mead, some streamed down her cleavage. “Spineless bastards, too afraid to do what their hearts tell them!” Her voice fell into a feral roar.   “Mhm.” Farkas muttered, busy with his food. He never liked to partake in someone’s rant.   Frustrated, Aela threw her tankard at him, the warrior dodged the projectile. She always did that when she was enraged and powerless, he got used to it.   “You’re not going to say anything? Anything at all?” Her eyes burned. “Damn, why am I even asking, you can’t form a straight sentence without your brother whispering into your ear.” She bit her tongue too late.   Farkas reached for a goat leg and gave his Shield-Sister a bold look. He wasn’t angry at what she said, they’ve all been through a very difficult time. They lost Skjor, then Kodlak, the future of the Companions was uncertain. The worst thing they could do now was fight each other.   “Want to know what I really think?” He asked slowly.   “Hit me.” She dared.   “If I had a kid, and some bastard would as much as look at it the wrong way, I’d rip his limbs off one by one with my bare hands. Then, I would split him open and start eating him. And I wouldn’t bother with waiting for him to die first.” He snapped the bone in half and sucked the marrow out. “And I’d be damned if I’d let some pansy jail keep me prisoner.”   Aela stared at him with respect. He was difficult to anger, but once something got to him, he was slow to cool down. Mayhap it was time she pays him a visit, after neglecting him for so long? His twin was busy with Ria, from what she remembered. Strangely, they spent a lot of time together…   ---   “Please, not inside!” Ria’s begged.   “Why not, you always love it.” Vilas pushed harder, pulling the rope sharply.   Ria’s back arched in response. She wiggled, whimpering like a wounded animal, but the ropes around her ankles, wrists and under her arms efficiently immobilized her. The position was complicated. The ropes were thankfully soft, her Master showed clemency tonight.   He spent weeks planning this session. First, he gave her the usual routine involving humiliation, abuse and the occasional caress. Then, he tied her ankles crosswise of the edge of his bed, so that Ria did the split, facing the mattress. He then tied her hands behind her back in an elaborate knot, with her arms firmly pressed to her ribcage. He pulled another piece of rope under her arms and slipped the end into an iron ring he had under the ceiling. Whenever he needed, he’d pull the rope, bending her back until she could see him upside-down.   With pleasure, he interjectionally abused her asshole and pussy, using her throat to clean his cock before changing holes. Her eyes were glazed, her mouth grazed, but the wetness and looseness of her holes showed how much she enjoyed it. An additional torture was that she couldn’t scream or cry full-volume, because they were in his room in the living quarters. But the muffled, quiet sobs and moans she released were as much rewarding.   “No, you can’t!” She protested when he didn’t pull out.   “What was that, bitch?” He grunted angered, grabbing her tit, painfully twisting the nipple. He was the one in control!   “No, no, I’m sorry Master!” She cried conflicted. “But please, don’t come inside my pussy! It’s not safe for me!”   “You’ll manage.” He whispered into her ear, his breath was hot and heavy, he was almost there.   “Mercy!” Her voice was weak and pathetic, a sign she was about to come as well. “Use my ass, my throat, but not there!”   “Shut up.”   “You’ll get me pregnant!” She disobeyed, sensing he’ll slap or otherwise punish her.   “The safety word.” He murmured instead. “Say it, and I’ll stop. Hurry up, I’m almost there…”   She felt it, his shaft got hotter and more vascular, her walls clenched with anxiety. She could say the word and end it now, but didn’t want to. It was just one word, ‘Wuuthrad’, easy to pronounce, impossible to forget or mix up. But she wanted him to keep going, despite the consequences. Her addiction was hopeless.   “Ah… I… Please, don’t hurt me…” She cried defeated.   “I’m coming.” His soft whisper was like a blow with a fist.   Vilkas released the rope; Ria lost support and fell face-down on the mattress. She screamed in the soft sheets, as her Master grabbed her ass and rammed his member to the limits, right at her cervix. He groaned, almost animal like, coming in her pussy with his usual quantity and pressure. In a wild spasm, her ass pushed back. He gasped in pain, slapping her cheeks, but didn’t retreat. He kept ejaculating, now enjoying her fast clenching and loosening.   “Enjoy it, slut.” He laughed, falling on her with all his weight. He waited for her to calm down, then reluctantly pulled out with a moist sound.   Ria wept, with him her orgasms always had a bitter undertone. Gods, she knew his seed was strong, what’s she going to do now?! Arcadia’s shop was closed, the alchemist was away for a few days. Long enough for anything she could sell not to work.   “Squeeze and hold it in. You’re not getting my bed dirty.” He warned, untying her.   “How could you…!” She cried, rolling on her back. All over her chest were markings from the rope.   “You had a choice, but did nothing.” He refuted. “Don’t blame me, I never leave you without an option.”   She hadn’t said anything, laying passively, clenching her muscles to keep his seed in. He went across the room and grabbed a bottle and a towel. Without a word, he pushed the towel under her ass. She cooed, relaxing; a flood of thick cum leaked out. Closing her eyes, she went numb.   “I kept it in for so long, I’m definitely having his baby.” She thought, crying. The consequence dawned upon her with devastating momentum.   “Oh, will you stop acting like the victim.” He said displeased, flinging himself on the bed.   “How can you be so cruel?!” She wept, opening her eyes. “Oh…!” She shut her mouth, seeing the bottle wasn’t mead, but a contraceptive potion.   “Drink.” He ordered.   She swallowed a mouthful, feeling relief, then embarrassment. Of course he had that covered, he was always so foreseeing. She felt stupid like many times before.   “Thank you.” She said, putting the now empty bottle away.   “You didn’t really think I’m that irresponsible, did you?” He asked. “Well?” He asked again, grabbing her chin and pulling to face him.   “No, never.”   “Don’t lie to me.” His eyes narrowed.   “Yes, I did.” She confessed. “I’m sorry.”   “Imperials!” He puffed, letting go and making himself more comfortable.   “I’m sorry?”   “You know what I mean.” He said casually, folding his arms behind his back. “You Imperials always act like everyone else is to blame.”   “That’s not true!”   “Really? Then what do you make of the recent events?” Vilkas gave her an unpleasant look. “You Imperials and your laws, great on paper but useless in real life. Admit those laws are meaningless, only there as an excuse for your helplessness!”   For a second Ria was speechless, then reached for the empty potion bottle and broke it on his head.   “Bitch!” Vilkas shouted, falling off the bed.   “You bastard!” She yelled, jumping on him. Her still dripping slit stained his crotch. She took a swing with her fist, but as he was an experienced fighter, he easily blocked the blow and pushed her off.   “How dare you!” He roared in anger. She was the Slave, she should know her place!   “You…! You…!” Ria was breathless with rage. “There aren’t words vile enough for me to use.” She slowly stood up, the two of them now opposite each other, waiting for either to make a move.   “Know your place!” He ordered, gnashing his teeth.   “No!” She refused, clenching her fists. “I’ve had it with you! You bastard, I let you do to me anything you’d please, but you’ve gone too far! This was unfair from the start.” She lowered her fists and slowly shook her head. “When you assaulted me…”   “Don’t even try it!” He crossed his arms. “I gave you several opportunities to fight back and make me back off. But you just laid there and took it.”   “Yes, I did.” She confessed with remorse. “I wanted you, but not like that. I was too stupid and meek to defend myself. You basically raped me! And I came back for more, I never drew the line. I should have had some self-respect, but damn it, I got addicted to you.”   “Then what’s your problem?”   “You don’t respect me.” She said quietly. “As long as the game was on, you could do anything to me until I said the safety word. Beat me, lash me, abuse my body and mind. But you’re not the boss of me outside the game. So, how dare you imply I have no sense of honor!” A new wave of rage washed her over. “How dare you say I don’t know right from wrong and need some useless laws to tell me what to think, instead of trusting my heart!”   “Quiet it down!”   “No! I don’t care if someone hears! You’re not controlling me anymore!” Ria’s voice was cold and strong. “I am a warrior, and my heart is on the right side. You have no right to insult my pride. We’re through. I don’t need you anymore.” She said boldly, turning to her armor and getting dressed. “Go find yourself someone else to toy with… Shield-Brother.” She said, before slamming the door.   Vilkas felt sticky wetness on his nape and back. He rubbed his neck; his palm was covered in blood, she must have cut his skin with the bottle.   “Well, look who grew a spine…” He said amazed, staring at the blood on his palm.   ---   Aza semiconsciously stared at Eorlund sharpening her swords. The talk she just had with the Jarl didn’t go as planned. After nearly running into the palace, she was asked to meet Jarl Balgruuf on the Great Porch.   “I knew you’d come here soon.” He said, stepping away from the balustrade.   “Then it’s no secret why I’m here, Jarl.” She replied.   “You’ve done me a great service more than once.” He acknowledged, staring into the panorama of Whiterun’s magnificent plains. “But I can’t just ignore the law and let your friend go, even though my heart tells me to. I’m sorry.” He looked her in the eye.   “Of course you can’t.” She said bitterly. She wasn’t surprised.   “There are those who want me to pardon him. And those who shun the very idea of disregarding the customs of the Empire. I can’t risk upsetting either side. I am Jarl before being a Nord.” Balgruuf stated heavily.   Aza didn’t envy his position. He was in a tight spot, with both the imperialists and rebels shouting into his ear. So far, Whiterun remained neutral. Apparently, the temporary peace negotiated in High Hrothgar was rendered obsolete.   “I can’t help you. But…” He hesitated.   “But what, my Jarl?”   “But I am sure you’ve made a lot of friends during your travels. Perhaps you have friends in Riften?”   The heroine said nothing, but nodded slightly.   “The city is much more prosperous since Maven Black-Briar became Jarl. As I recall, you suggested she takes Laila Law-Giver’s place.”   “I might have said so, but I was more preoccupied with the dragon back then.”   “Would you believe some people say she has ties to the Thieves Guild and the Dark Brotherhood?” Balgruuf made note, looking away. “It’s all gossip, of course, but who knows?”   Aza was already calculating. Fuck Maven, asking a favor from that manipulative bitch was like stuffing your hand into a beehive. But… The Guild. She had a contact in the organization. Someone who once said he never forgets a debt, and that it’s good to be his friend.   “Well, in my line of work you get to meet all sorts of people.” She agreed, casually.   “I don’t doubt that.” The Jarl adjusted his circlet. “Avenicci tells me that murder charges among peasants expire after seven years. Jail escaping is one additional year.”   “I’m not literate in the law, I’m merely a wanderer.” Aza knew where this was going.   “And people tend to talk and talk about something, then slowly cool down and finally forget.” Balgruuf went on. “Eight years is a lot of time for memories to fade away. And papers do tend to get… misplaced in my dungeon.”   “I see…”   “That’s all I can do.” His tone was almost apologetic. For a split-second the adventurer saw the man, not the ruler. And the man was greatly anguished by his burden.   “It’s more than I had a minute ago.” She faked a carefree smile.   “You can go and visit him.” The Jarl suggested.   “That’s… not a good idea.” Aza declined with a frown.   “You’ll start drooling soon.” The grumpy blacksmith snapped her back to reality.   “Sorry.” She wiped her mouth and chin.   “Your staring won’t make me work any faster.” The man nagged, working her blades with cool precision.   “I’ll… Go on a walk, then.”   “Be back in an hour. Don’t forget the gold.” Eorlund reminded, without paying her the slightest look.   Just as she was about to leave, she noticed an almost finished piece of armor. It was a variant of the ancient Nord Hero armor, with slight alterations. The back was covered with reinforced leather, unlike the original scantly design. The front was sturdier; the ribcage, sides and abdomen were also reinforced, though the amulets and leather top remained. The leather skirt was gone, instead there were pants made of thick leather with steel on the knees. The boots and gauntlets remained unchanged, save for metal plates in the front of the boots.   “That’s… impressive.” Aza said with amazement. She had to have it! It would look perfect with her cape and circlet! Not to mention, her old armor was a bit roughed up.   “It’s for Aela, so you have no business gawking.”   “Oh.” The Redguard’s enthusiasm quickly died. The Huntress wasn’t the type of person you could easily bargain with. She left the Skyforge and aimlessly wandered down the stairs.   “My, look who’s back! Missed us?” A voice called.   Aela was leaning against the stone wall with the hidden door leading to the Underforge next to her. Though she seemed relaxed it was just a pose, she was ready to pounce at any second.   “Just passing by.” The heroine tried to excuse herself. It was never a good idea for two alpha females to be in one place for too long.   “Nice cape.” The werewolf in disguise noted, halting her. She was apparently in a mood for a chat.   “Nice armor Eorlund is making you.” Was Aza’s reply.   “I need something sturdier. We’re in for some hard times, and I can’t be seen walking around Jorrvaskir with my ass sticking from under my skirt.” Aela’s brows crossed.   “Meaning?”   “Skjor and Kodlak are dead.” She said briefly. Her frown was barely noticeable. “The Silver Hand. I’ll spare you the long story of bravado, ambush and retaliation. In the end, we got them all. Then we mourned. And when we were done mourning, me and the twins travelled to Ysgramor’s Tomb and gave Kodlak’s spirit peace.”   “That’s good.”   “The old man liked you.” The Huntress said unexpectedly in a familiar tone so uncharacteristic of her.   “I have no idea why.” The Redguard muttered. Pity the old warrior died, but she never liked to meet with someone’s high expectations.   “Me neither. But he saw something in you.” Aela kicked a stone from under her boot. “Now the twin idiots are considering getting clean themselves.”   “You can do that?” Aza was surprised. She thought lycanthropy was permanent.   “Apparently, after you throw a Glemoril Witch’s head into Ysgramor’s sanctified fire, you can.”   “So, you’re going to pull straws to decide who’s the next Harbinger?” Aza joked.   “Are you kidding?” The Huntress laughed bitterly. “Neither of us want the job. We decided there will be no fixed Harbinger until someone worthy shows up. Until then, it’s just the three of us. My head already hurts.”   “Your problem, not mine. I have loads of my own troubles.” The Redguard fought the urge to stare up at Dragonsreach.   “I heard. I’m sorry about your friend.” Aela remembered the red-haired stud. And his colossal dick. She only caught a glimpse of it from a distance, but it was enough to make her remember it for a long time.   “Why? It’s not like I don’t have a plan.” Aza’s jaws clenched. “I’ll get him out, one way or the other.” She assured with force.   “Good hunting.” Aela nodded.   “Yeah, thanks.” She was about to leave, but suddenly remembered an artifact she had in her satchel. For her it was useless, but for a werewolf… “Say, since you said you’re in for some hard times, you’ll need something to give you an edge over the twins. Not to mention someone might notice how the Companions have suffered, and take advantage of the situation… And I have just the thing.”   “You sound like a skooma dealer.”   “I got something better than skooma. And it’s completely safe. I’d be willing to trade it with you for, let’s say… That pretty armor up in the Skyforge. Though, it’s going to need some work around the chest and hips to fit me.”   “Armor made by the finest blacksmith in all of Skyrim? I can hardly imagine what treasure would make this a fair trade!” Aela snorted. It was hard to determine was it outrage or amusement.   The adventurer smiled, sinking her hand into her satchel. Her grin widened, as she felt the familiar shape of Hircine’s Ring.   ---   Riften was dangerous to walk by night. Especially, when you’re visiting all sorts of shady places asking about a very shady person. Brynjolf was nowhere to be found, no one in the Ragged Flagon could offer any information, and Aza got the strange feeling the Guild recently underwent a major shift of power. Mercer Frey wasn’t anywhere either, though the Breton’s absence didn’t bother her in the slightest. She left, as it was getting late and the thieves, though most hadn’t forgotten she was allowed safe passage in the Ratway, were growing annoyed of her persistent questioning.   She booked the room at the Bee and Barb, the safest place to stay after it gets dark in Riften. She was tempted to order a disgustingly large bottle of rum, but she had to stay sober and operational. As she had no appetite, she went upstairs early in the evening, undressed and flung herself on the bed.   She was restless, and hoped her only option to bust Erik out of jail was still available. Brynjolf was keeping a low profile, but word that she was looking for him was bound to reach him soon. Nevertheless, she was in a hurry.   She tossed and turned on the mattress, rubbing her stomach. Her guts were painfully clenched as she remembered the conversation she had with Mralki.   “Well, this is bad.” She stated the obvious, staring at the ceiling. “What happened to the girls?”   “They’re staying with me.” Jouane, the elderly Breton, said. “Rorik’s mansion is large enough to house two little girls.”   “And I make sure they eat properly.” Mralki added.   “I should go see to them.” Jouane excused himself. “They tend to have bad dreams and don’t like being left alone for too long. A good night to you both.”   He left. Aza felt a numbing headache, Mralki was silent and grim.   “He doesn’t belong in prison.” She said bitterly after a longer pause. It still hadn’t dawned on her. Erik (righteously!) killed a guy and was now in jail.   “Damn right he doesn’t!” The innkeeper slammed his fist against the counter. “My son is not a criminal!”   The Redguard took off her circlet, feeling little relief, the headache persisted. She had a bitter taste in her mouth. As much as she tried to get a grip of herself, panic was slowly building up inside her.   “I’m going to get him out of this mess.” She swore, blankly staring at Mralki’s face. “Even if I’ll have to do a bunch of nasty things on the way, I’m getting him out.”   “How?” The innkeeper didn’t look like it, but there was a spark of hope in his heart.   “I know the Jarl. He… owes me a favor.” She confessed vaguely. This was no time for a long, complicated story involving eating dragon souls.   “Are you sure you sobered enough?” The innkeeper scrutinized her. He thought little of the woman, and nothing had changed.   “Do you want me to pull your ‘muscle’ again?” She grunted, but immediately calmed down. “Sorry. I’m just so upset about this.”   “You can be upset about your son having relations with a harlot, not him ending up in jail!” He yelled, remembering how she painfully jerked him off, before strolling off with his son, only to do all sorts of depraved things to him.   “Stating the facts won’t bother me, innkeep. I’m a slut, what of it?” She was unaffected by the insult.   “I’m sorry.” Mralki unclenched his fists. “I’m powerless and in despair.” He exhaled, regaining his cool. “I don’t regret letting you take him anymore. I had my doubts about you, and I still have, but I’m proud of who he became. So, thank you.”   “Don’t thank me, it was mostly his doing. I just made sure he got a good beating if he did something stupid.”   “I noticed the scar.”   “That wasn’t me. Well, it was because of me, but I didn’t hold the blade.” She unnoticeably shrugged, remembering the carnage back in Nilheim.   Her belly suddenly grumbled. Without a word, Mralki turned to his pantry and brought her a cold piece of ram, bread and mulled ale. She wasn’t hungry, but needed a distraction. She ate, taking her time to chew and swallow. The food was bland, but it was just her tongue going numb and dry.   “Who found him?” She asked, staring into nothingness.   “I did.” Mralki’s voice was heavy with sorrow.   “What was he like?”   “Nothing like himself.” The father shook his head. “Calm, focused. Actually,” he swallowed, “he scared me a bit.”   “Yep, that sounds like him.” She noted with grief. Her assumptions were correct - the Slayer broke loose. “He does that when you push him real hard.”   “I… I know.” The man finally sat down, after pacing around. “When he was young… Well… younger, he sometimes… snapped. I hoped he’d grow out of it eventually.”   “He killed a group of bandits and walked out with just a cut on his face and neck.” She grinned morbidly. “So no, he didn’t grow out of it.” Her plate was empty. She got up. “Got to go. I’ll be in Whiterun in no time if I hurry up.”   “No, you’re in no condition to ride.”   “Piss off.” She grunted.   “Get some rest, you damned hagraven!” The innkeeper insisted. “You won’t do any good now, get some sleep first.”   “Fine.” She gave in, realizing being stubborn was pointless.   “No handouts in my inn. You pay for your food and room up front.” He conditioned before letting her head upstairs.   She paid and left the main chamber, after being told which room was available. It was the last door in the corridor. But before entering, she caught a familiar scent from the nearby room.   “Oh, fuck no…” She whispered, feeling her knees go numb. She turned around and pushed the door to the room opposite hers.   It was his room. Erik’s scent was everywhere. The room was small, the furnishing simple. She saw some personal items that made her throat feel tight. She sat on the bed, the frame creaked. She looked around, noticing his old peasant clothes folded over a chair.   “Don’t. Pull yourself together. Ah, dumb bitch…” She surrendered, reaching for it.   She took a deep whiff, almost losing her grip. She got dizzy, as if drunk. She missed that smell. She missed his company. She missed him. She bit her lip, forcing herself to put the green, coarse shirt away. She then slapped herself and marched out of the room, rubbing her cheek. She regained control and was now planning her next move. Get some sleep, ride out first thing in the morning, go see the Jarl.   But before that, she needed to blow off some steam. She franticly threw her armor on the floor, crawled on the bed and fingered herself until she came with a painful clench of her twat.   Morning brought some clarity. Though she hadn’t completely cooled down, she could think clearly. She had a quick talk with Mralki, asking him to pack Erik’s things and deliver them with his horse to a trusted friend she had in Riverwood. She wrote a letter to said friend, explaining the situation and reminding of an old favor they owed her.   Her paint mare wasn’t pleased to leave, as she just got back together with her bay sister. But time was precious and there was much to do.   “Hey, lady!” She heard a child’s voice just as she was about to mount her horse.   She needn’t ask who the twin girls behind her were. Sissel and Britte.   “Yea?”   “Is it true you’re that crazy lady Erik ran away with?” The girl asked. Judging by her challenging tone she was Britte.   “Yep.”    “You’re going to get him out of jail, right?” The girl demanded to know.   “I’ll try.”   “Not good enough!” The other girl cried.   “Shut up, Sissel!” Her sister scolded. “So? Will you?”   “If I fail” Aza grinned alarmingly, “you’ll know.”   “How?” The girls asked disturbed.   “You’ll see the smoke coming from Whiterun.” She promised, kicking her mount’s sides.   A tap on the window pulled her back to reality. She sprang out of bed and leapt to the frame. Pulling sharply, she opened the window, revealing a dark figure lurking in the night.   “I hear you’re asking about me all over Riften, lass. Missed me?”   “Get in.” She stepped aside, shrugging. The night was windy.   Brynjolf slipped into the room with grace. Unlike the last time she saw him, he was wearing official Thieves Guild armor. She remembered the piece he sent Erik, almost an exact copy.   “I’m glad you’re here. I need your help and I’m desperate.” She said without sugarcoating.   “Oh?” The thief rested on the only chair in the room.   “You once said you never forget a debt and it’s good to be your friend.” She swallowed with difficulty.   “I know what I said.” He interrupted. “And I never go back on my word… Well, almost never. But in your case, I’ll hold on to it.”   And he meant it. Some time ago, per Brynjolf’s request, Aza and Erik ventured into a desolated tomb and eliminated a necromancer that dwelled within, then burned all his mad research and the bodies of his victims. Among the corpses, some of ancient draugr and some of young women, was a girl bearing a striking resemblance to the rogue. They suspected she was close family, but didn’t inquire further.   “You did the job, no questions asked.” For a second his green eyes were narrowed. “And you sent me a confirmation letter without all that sentimental nonsense. For that, I am grateful. You didn’t ‘kindly’ offer me your sympathy. Because if you did, I would take it as an insult. And now you’re just standing here saying nothing. You’re not asking who she was, or why didn’t I want to take care of the body myself.”   “As it should be.” She nodded.   “Aye.” Brynjolf laid back. “So, putting my thanks aside, I’m all ears. Why don’t you sit down and tell me what’s troubling you?”   After several minutes of the adventurer’s tale, he got up and paced around the room making no sound.   “And that’s where you come in. Well, not you.” Aza sighed heavily. “I was thinking of…”   “… Cynric.” The thief finished. Yes, she was about to mention the professional jailbreaker’s name. “He’s retired, you know. After a job backfiring at him and forcing to rot in a jail back on High Rock, he doesn’t do that kind of work anymore.”   “Damn it!” She yelled. “What do you want me to do? Because at this point I’m up for just about anything! I’ll even crawl on my knees to the Ratway and give everyone full service, from the lowliest footpad to Mercer Frey himself!”   Brynjolf laughed, her uterus did a backflip.   “Oh, lass!” He snickered, sitting next to her on the large bed. “Mercer is the last thing you should be worried about. He’s dead, you see.” There was a gleam in his eye.   “Damn, what…?” She paused mid-sentence. This was probably Guild-only business.   “I see no harm in telling you.” Bryn slung his arm over her waist. She gave him a look, but didn’t push him away. “He stole from us and was responsible for our past bad luck. If you’d stuck around for longer, you’d know.”   “I still have no Idea why I agreed to help you with your shady work in the first place. I only needed your help with finding Esbern in the Ratway, and I ended up setting beehives on fire. No, wait, I know. You seduced me.” She realized embarrassed, stroking his ego.   “Still, your help was indispensable. You indirectly helped me catch wind of Mercer’s little scheme. Sometime later, an old Guild member and I crossed paths. Let’s just say they shone some light on Mercer…” He hadn’t mentioned Karliah’s name, Aza needn’t know the story in that much detail. “In the meantime, Mercer fled after majorly screwing us over. Me, Delvin and that other Guild member banded together, tracked him down, and… Well… Business is good once again.”   “And you’re on top.”   “I’m not happy about it.” He confessed with barely noticeable grief. “I’m not much for leadership. But I’ll be damned if I let the Guild sink.”   “So, you got more pull in the Flagon than ever…” Aza risked.   “That I do. No worries, lass, I’ll soften Cynric enough.” He assured with a wink.   She exhaled, now realizing she was barely breathing the whole conversation.   “Once you bust him out, I got a safe hidey hole in Riverwood for him to wait until the heat passes. Just ask the mill owner, she owes me one.” Aza instructed. She visited Riverwood on her way to Riften. Gerdur agreed to hide Erik for a day or two. After all, she was a Stormcloak supporter and couldn’t stand Imperial law.   “Consider it done.”   “Thanks.” Was all she could say.   “Call it even. Now tell me, did he like the armor I sent him?” He smiled like the rascal he was.   “He loved it.” She said, putting her hand over her chest.    “And you?” Sparkles danced in his eyes.   “He looked like the wettest of my dreams in that armor.” She bit her lip, remembering how well the black leather complimented Erik’s figure.   “You’re this cruel on purpose? What about me?” Brynjolf faked a sigh.   “Stop playing.” She punched his knee. She was in no mood for his teasing.   “Who’s playing?” The rogue got even closer. “Maybe I’m in the market for something… robust.”   “You’re a fiend.” She stated, not making the slightest move.   “I wouldn’t have gotten this far in life if it were otherwise. You smell nice, what perfume is that?” He asked, taking a whiff of her hair. Up this close, she could barely gather her thoughts.   “I don’t wear perfume, I bathe.” She replied, feeling her arms cover in goosebumps.   His goatee tickled the side of her neck. Damn his irresistible charm! If it were a year ago, she’d lay down flat with her legs so wide apart you could fit two guys between her thighs. But somehow, although she was turned on, she didn’t want to do it.   “Beat it, pretty boy.” She managed to shutter. “Or I’ll feed you my fist.”   “No means no.” Bryn gave her some space. “Can I at least get a kiss goodnight?”   Scoundrel! Oh, but what harm could a quick kiss do? She closed her eyes and puckered up.   Before a second could pass, his tongue slipped into her mouth and wrapped around hers. His lips were soft and he knew how to use them. Aza felt her thighs getting sweaty. Savagely, she grabbed his nape and pulled closer. Brynjolf grunted, his nimble fingers trotted up her spine, her lower back jerked in a spasm. He tasted intoxicatingly, what was his secret? Whatever it was, he could have anyone. It was hard to imagine someone could resist that red-haired bastard.   He finally broke the kiss. The adventurer hadn’t noticed the moment his hand slipped under her nightshirt, stroking her upper thigh. His other hand somehow went undetected under her neckline and was centimeters from her breast.   “Are you sure you want me to go?” He asked softly, the combination of his appearance, voice and smell was a deadly brew.   “Fuckmefuckmefuckme!” Raced through her head. On the floor, on the wall, even on the damned rooftop! Lick my twat, choke me with your cock, then ram it in and pound me like a piston! And then walk away triumphant, you smug…   “Get out before I throw you out.” Berating heavily, she gnashed her teeth but kept her eyes shut.   She could physically feel his warmth backing away. The frame shifted as Brynjolf got up, but made no sound. Neither did the opening and closing window. Aza was alone. Alone and incredibly horny.   Cursing and grunting, she pulled the nightshirt off and thoughtlessly threw on the nightstand. As her fingers slipped into her pussy, she smelled something burning. It was her nightshirt; she threw it precisely on the candle. She quickly grabbed it and threw on the floor, then poured over it water she intended to use to wash herself in the morning. The flame hissed and died, smoke filled the room. Although it was dark, she could see a large hole burned out on the left side of the chest area. The hole was big enough to fit her entire boob.   “Wonderful.” She said bitterly. Her mood was all gone now.   ---   The second the window closed behind him, Brynjolf felt an odd sensation in his gut. Strange, he was tense all of a sudden. It wasn’t because the busty Redguard told him to get out. He sensed she wouldn’t give in, even if she couldn’t resist a kiss.   He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, feeling heat growing in his stomach. He halted, wondering if it was something he ate. No, there was nothing physically wrong with him, it was something else. Something he wasn’t aware of up to this point. He never cared for politics, he couldn’t care less who was High King. He laughed at men and women losing their lives in this pointless war. But what he just heard… Rotting in jail for something that was so… right. Not heroic, every sensible person would do the same in the lad’s place. He felt an iron ball slowly building up inside him. He had to let it out, or it’s going to rip his throat open.   “Damned faithless Imperials!” He grunted with all the hatred he could muster.   The feeling passed as suddenly as it came. For a second he stood on the rooftop, surprised by the burning outrage he just experienced. It came so natural to him, as if from the very blood that coursed in his veins. Red Nord blood.   No matter now, he had to get going. It was late in the night, but Cynric should be awake for some… persuasion. He jumped off the roof of Mara’s temple, rolled on the soft grass and quickly entered one of the abandoned mausoleums. He found the secret button on the stone tomb, pressed it, and a second later he was home.   The cistern, the main part of the Guild headquarters, was looking better than ever. That is, if you can say something positive about a sewer. The treasury was slowly filling up with larceny targets, the shelf near the Guildmaster’s desk was heavy with priceless loot. A statue of Nocturnal was giving blessings of luck and stealth for those who wished it. The Guild was slowly reclaiming its former glory.   He jailbreaker was not in the cistern, neither in the Flagon. Most of the members were either asleep after a job, or up to no good somewhere else. On a hunch, the rogue took a peek into the training room. Jackpot. The Breton was busy practicing his lockpicking skills. Vex insisted they should focus more on training and Brynjolf happily obliged now that they had the funds.   The rogue took a step back and hanged his hood on a hook near the entrance. It was a universal ‘do not disturb’ sign every thief understood. He felt a rush of adrenaline as he crept up on Cynric. The jailbreaker was busy with a complex lock based on a Dwemer design. The breton muttered to himself, gently rotating the pick clockwise. He was so preoccupied with finding the sweet spot, that he hadn’t noticed the rogue just behind him. He pushed the pick, but met with resistance. He cursed, biting his tongue.   “Need a hand?” There was a velvet-soft purr next to his ear. He jumped, the pick broke.   “Brynjolf!” He yelled, his hand clenched around his chest. “Don’t do that!”   “Why not? It’s fun.” The Nord replied lightheartedly.   “What do you need from me?” The jailbreaker was alert.   “I’d tell you to pull up a chair, but…” Bryn dramatically looked around the training room.   “Just tell me what you need, boss.”   Brynjolf could swear he heard a change in pitch when Cynric said ‘boss’, as if mocking him. He began outlining the issue. Cynric hadn’t interrupted even once, but from the look on his face the thief could clearly see he wasn’t too happy.   “You know I’m retired.” He reminded in a futile attempt to end the conversation.   “I know. But think about it. Doesn’t it bother you even the slightest? That lad is innocent, for Gods’ sake! This is injustice… in the name of justice!” Bryn tried to play on the jailbreaker’s sense of dignity.   “And since when do you care about justice?” The Breton laughed. “Come on, Brynjolf, we’ve known each other for years, don’t try your tricks on me.”    “Okay, no games. I’ll be blunt - Do it. If not for our lovely…” he involuntarily made a face and crossed his arms, “Redguard friend, then for me.”   “Why? What’s it to you?”   “She scratched my back, now I want to scratch hers, so we’re even and everyone’s happy.”   “And it’s my hand doing the scratching.” Cynric grinded his teeth. “I’m not going back to prison!”   He turned away with a grunt. Brynjolf knew he shouldn’t push, this was the crucial moment. Cynric hadn’t stormed out, so there was still a chance to influence him.   “I wouldn’t be asking if…”   “Everyone thinks I was ass-raped in prison. I wasn’t. No one ever touched me in jail.” He confessed, after a moment of pacing around. “Why, you ask? Because word somehow got out that I was a failed jailbreaker.” His face was barely sticking out of the shadow under his hood. “Three years of being ignored, as if I hadn’t existed. No one talked to me, not even to insult me. The more superstitious prisoners said I was bad luck. For three years I hadn’t opened my mouth to anyone.”   “You never told me.”   “As if you needed to know!” The Breton grinned bitterly. “I actually wouldn’t mind some mistreating or a brutal fuck. Anything would be better than treating me like furniture.”   “You’re a pro and it’s dull old Whiterun we’re talking about. You’ll be in and out in no time. If anything backfires, I got your back.” The Nord promised.   “Really?” Cynric was skeptical.   “Solidarity among thieves is sacred. Have you forgotten?” The Guildmaster raised a brow. “I take care of my own. You’re too valuable to us to go to waste.”   “Us?”   “Do you expect to hear ‘valuable to me’? Sorry, not going to happen.” Bryn laughed.   “At least you’re not lying to me to get what you want.” Cynric sighed. “What’s the current cost for busting someone out? I’m a bit out of the loop.”   “This isn’t official Guild business, I thought I made that clear.” Brynjolf stated sternly.   “And you’re short on coin, I imagine?”   “Are you a psychic? Yes, I’m broke at the moment, and I don’t touch our money. I’m not Mercer.”   “So, you expect me to get thrown into Dragonsreach dungeon for free?”   “Of course not. Name your price.” The deal was almost sealed, he knew it.   “I want to borrow the Amulet of Articulation, no questions asked. And a blowjob.” Cynric quickly stated his conditions.   This condition Brynjolf hadn’t expected. The blowjob, that is. He’d sooner expect himself to make a move on Cynric. Well, he was still in the mood, after being so coldly rejected by the buxom Aza. Her taste almost completely dissolved in his mouth. And his hood was still hanging near the entrance.   “Deal?” Cynric grew impatient.   “Deal.” The rogue smiled lustfully.   Roughly, they clashed. Endell bit the thief’s lip before shoving his tongue in.   “Who is it?” He groaned, pulling it out after a brief struggle with Bryn’s tongue. “I can taste someone on you!”   “No worries, we were just fooling around, that’s all.” Brynjolf chuckled innocently.   “Slut.” The Breton hissed through clenched teeth.   “Ouch.” Bryn got on his knees, proceeding to unbuckle Cynric’s pants. Without further ado he got busy, stroking him fast, interchangeably hard and soft.   “The client?” Endell asked, playing with the Guildmaster’s hair.   “Straight. A shame, really. But back to you…”  Brynjolf pulled the foreskin down. He blew on the glans, before tapping with his tongue.   “Stop teasing, unless you want me to change my mind.” The jailbreaker observed lazily, pushing his hips a bit forward.   The rogue rolled his eyes dramatically. He squeezed the base, taking the shaft in. He sucked, giving Cynric his full attention, but the Breton wanted more than that. He grabbed him by the neck and roughly stuffed his dick deeper. The rogue gasped, coughed, but endured. Grabbing the jailbreaker’s hips he relaxed his jaws preparing for the rough skullfuck.   Cynric felt great being on top. Brynjolf was never openly arrogant and didn’t abuse his power, but it felt good having him on his knees, with his hot mouth full of cock. He felt the Nord’s honey tongue grinding his shaft, it was unbelievable how good he was with his mouth. Closing his eyes and bending back, the Breton let his mind slip away. The professional in him immediately started going through all the possible scenarios of the heist. The adrenaline that rushed into his head, as he remembered the thrill of jailbreaking, made him even more aroused.   Bryn was getting off himself. No, this wasn’t going to end in just a bit of cock-sucking. His hands moved from the hips to grope Cynric’s fine ass.   “Get ready, boss. I’m almost there.” Cynric’s smile was wide and insolent. Just to taunt a bit, he caressed his Guildmaster’s cheek.   “I’m going to pound your ass so bad, you’ll sleep on your stomach for at least a week!” The Nord thought, preparing for the Breton to come.   With a gulp, he took the cock deep, far past the tonsils. The jailbreaker came in one intense spasm, a forceful stream filled Brynjolf too fast; sperm gushed from the corners of his mouth. He worked hard to keep swallowing and sucking it all out. Finally, it was over. Cynric let his red hair go. Brynjolf wiped his mouth and stood up.   “Always at your service.” The Breton said almost sincerely.   “Get on the hay.” Brynjolf grunted, pointing at the haystack in the corner. “We’re not done yet.”   Moments later, the Guildmaster was roughly pumping his favorite Breton’s ass. Cynric casually lied on his side, enjoying Bryn’s efforts to make him scream. Lazily, he jerked-off, steadily getting hard again. He was going to be sore later, he knew that well. But seeing the usually laid-back rogue fucking him like a savage was worth it.   “You should see your face, boss.”   “Once you’re back from Whiterun” a mad spark danced in the Nord’s green eyes, “I’ll make sure you’re getting the nastiest jobs around here.”   “But I thought I’m your favorite.” Endell fluttered his lashes. Brynjolf couldn’t help but burst into laughter, getting a better hold of his hips.

Chapter 9 - Tough Reunion

“I can see land!” Surprisingly, it was the shy Kazi who spoke first.   “Yep.” Aza agreed.   Windhelm. Cold and unpleasant. She had a feeling this is the last time she visits the City of Kings. Good riddance! But first, there was the matter of the unpleasant meeting she had to go through.   Saabi was absentminded, staring at the frozen city drawing nearer with every minute. She seemed excited.   “Don’t mind her.” Kazi said with a smile. “She misses her husband and daughter.” She bowed her head and looked at her pronounced baby bump. “I’m happy for her.” She added quieter, unable to hide her true feelings.   It was obvious there won’t be any father waiting for her and her baby. The heroine didn’t want to interfere. Just get them safely on dry land, get paid. Then worry about your own problems.   The ship was about to dock, everyone onboard prepared for departure. Seagulls screamed, flying over the sails.   ---   “What is wrong with me?!” Erik suddenly realized. “I’m considering murdering a man who did me no wrong… Aside from sleeping with her years ago and thinking he can sleep with her again.”   He mentally beat his outrage down. This was not the place nor time. If his dark prediction becomes an even darker reality… Then he’ll think of what to do. For now all he could do was wait.   The ship sailed into the port, the sails were dirty. The footbridge was cast, first people descended to the stone pier. This was it.   “If you could” Kemon addressed him, keeping an eye on the growing stream of travelers and sailors, “I’d like you to stay for a moment and meet my wife.”   “Oh, I wouldn’t miss that for nothing.” He replied, maintaining a facade of control.   ---   “Finally!” Saabi breathed with relief when it was their turn to leave the ship. She forgot all about her sister and went first, the footbridge was steep.   “No worries, I got you.” Aza comforted Kazi. “Just keep putting one foot in front of the other.”   “Thank you.” The woman brushed her hair back with embarrassment. In her condition keeping balance was a difficult task.   “Come on.” She gently put her hands on her shoulders. “I want off this boat more than you know.”   They advanced down the slope. Kazi joined her sister on the pier, but Saabi was too busy trying to find her husband in the crowd.   “I’m really thankful for all you did for us.” The pregnant woman expressed, halting Aza who also wanted to find a certain someone. “This… was a perilous journey for us. More than you know.” She dared confess, suddenly feeling weary.   “Whoa, there.” The adventurer supported her, the stones were slippery. “Slow down, catch your breath.”   “Saabi!” A man called out.   “Kemon!” Kazi’s sister cried.   Wait, what?   Kazi picked the worst time to lose her balance. Aza wrapped her arms around her and looked over her shoulder to where she heard the exchange of names. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t real. The man holding Saabi tight and looking over her shoulder straight at Aza couldn’t be…   “I’m sorry!” Kazi gently pulled herself away, mindful of her abdomen. “Is everything alright?” She asked concerned, seeing the look on the heroine’s face.   “No.” Was the answer.   ---   He spotted her amongst the sea of sailors and travelers. It wasn’t difficult; her armor and posture stuck out immediately. She was busy helping some unknown Redguard woman down the footbridge. That other woman was visibly with child. Did she lose weight since they met in Helgen? Divines, she looked miserable.   Kemon stepped forward. No, no, no… Don’t say her name! Don’t…!   “Saabi!” He called out.   Saabi? Of course, the wretch obviously had a different name when… When she was his wife.   “Kemon!” A woman cried, but it wasn’t her.   Saabi was the name of a woman he hadn’t noticed before. She looked like a healer, her robes were similar to Kemon’s. He walked up to her and tightly embraced. At the same moment Aza kept the woman she was escorting from slipping on the ice. She caught her, staring at Saabi’s back, and in Kemon’s face. She tensed, her eyes were wide open. She recognized him! Erik she paid no mind, she probably didn’t even notice him.   So it was true. The ridiculous, impossible situation just happened… With an unexpected twist.   He had to get to her before anyone else does. He marched forward, but was stopped by a sudden band of merchants complaining about the raise of taxes on their goods. The merchants separated him from her like a wall. He cursed, but couldn’t walk around them, he had to wait for them to pass. She was gone during that brief moment, only the woman she was escorting remained.   “Where did she go?” He breathed, leaping towards her. Miraculously, he didn’t slip on the ice himself.   “I…” Kazi stared wide-eyed at his scar and the axe’s handle. She stepped back, frightened for some unknown reason. She protected her belly as if he wanted to attack her.   Forget her! He noticed a trail Aza’s cape left on the snow. She couldn’t be far.   ---   Saabi fell into his arms. Tall Papa, it was good to see her again! Alive and safe. He feared for her and Kazi’s safety ever since he was forced to send them on a ship to Solstheim.   Speaking of which, where was Kazi? She was in the arms of some woman who looked like a mercenary. Their eyes locked. Why was that woman staring at him like that? There was something familiar about that face, but he never saw a woman as… battle-worn as this one.   The realization wasn’t as sudden as a strike with a fist. It came slowly, resurfaced like a numbing toothache as Kemon recognized more and more about her. He knew that face. She was over ten years older, her hair shorter since he last saw her…   The night was windless, not a cloud obstructed the sky over the Alik’r Desert. The caravan was attacked, only three of them left. Zia, around three years old, cried. Her voice pierced his ears, her soft round face was covered in tears, sand was sticking to the wet streams on her cheeks.   There was only one wagon with the last horse left. There was blood on the front, the reins were slippery. The coachman was the first one to die from the orcish ambushers.   “Go!” She yelled at him.   “I can’t leave you!” He yelled back, but against his will he sat Zia on the wagon.   “Damn it, save her!” She said as a goodbye.   She didn’t say anything comforting, no last ‘I love you’. It was so typical of her. She turned around and rushed where the stench of blood was the worst. He jumped onboard the carriage and took the reins. Zia’s life was too precious to risk. He took one last look back, then shouted at the horse. The horse screamed, taking them into the night, heading for Sentinel.   He rode until the sun rose over the dunes. Zia was asleep, crying wore her out. He knew he had to ride for Sentinel. There wasn’t enough water in the leather sack left on the wagon to go back and check if she was still alive. Even if she survived, there wasn’t enough water for the three of them.   It was her! She was alive! How? How did she survive? And how did she get here? Was this a coincidence, or did she catch wind of them and their caravan? No, the look on her face was as surprised as his. And then it was filled with the very pain he felt himself.   Some people passed, breaking their gaze. He could think again.   “Where’s the eunuch?” Kemon asked colorlessly, after Saabi was done with hugging him.   “He didn’t board the ship with us.” She replied, for a second there was fright in her voice. “But we found someone who agreed to escort us here safely… Oh.” She noticed her sister was alone. “Kazi, what’s wrong?” She asked, approaching her shaken sister. “Where’s Aza?”   “I don’t know. She suddenly acted strange and left. Then some man with an axe approached me and demanded to know where she went. He frightened me.” She said, almost crying. In her condition she was very fragile.   A man with an axe? Kemon searched around, Erik left. And that meant…   ---   Aza blindly walked the icy steps. What was going on? How was it possible? Was this some cruel joke? How could this be happening?! This was all like bad dream, all her old wounds suddenly opening under the new ones.   She felt dizzy, she needed to sit down. She crouched near some nets and old barrels, they smelled of salt and fish. Pressing her cheek to the cold wall helped a bit.   “A small push, Dovahkiin.” She suddenly remembered the enigmatic words said by Fjotra, Dibella’s Sybil. “No more, no less. What you do with it is up to you.”   Of course. The circumstances were too cruel and ironic to be mere coincidence. This wasn’t a chance meeting. This was… fate. The Divines played with the strings of her life again! How dared they! She did all they wanted her to do, wasn’t it enough?! Hadn’t they enough of her suffering and sacrifice?!   She jolted up and ran with no fixed direction, all she wanted was to get away as soon as possible.   ---   Lortheim was a humble priest of Talos. And he was damned proud of it. His service was devoted, his sermons full of fire. Windhelm and all of Skyrim were in a difficult time, faith and courage were what the people needed the most. He delivered as best as he could.   He was walking back to his quarters in the Temple of the One, after visiting the Gray Quarter. The Dunmer were a hard bunch to convert, most worshipped their unholy Tribunal. Still, comfort in faith and prayer was the least he could offer them in their difficult situation.   He passed a lurching vagrant. His shoulder brushed against her pauldron, he felt an unpleasant tingling down his spine.   “Hey!” He heard when he was two steps ahead of her.   “Y-yes?” He asked, turning around.   “You’re a priest, right?” She asked gravely, shooting him a deadly glare.   “That I am.” He said truthfully, trying not to sound alarmed.   The air was pushed out of his lungs, as the woman slammed him against the wall.   “You think those fuckers up there like messing with me?” She rasped, feverishly. “Huh? Do they? Because it seems they’ll do everything to see me break! Well, you know what? I won’t. And I won’t let them play with my life and my head, you hear me? I WON’T!” She ended her chaotic tirade so abnormally loud, that ice chunked off the walls and rooftops. Somewhere a window broke. Someone cried a curse, a cat mewled. “You tell them to finally leave me alone, priest.” She demanded with a mad gleam.   She then shoved him aside like a ragdoll and stormed away. Lortheim slid down the wall and sat on the cold pavement. What just happened? What was that rambling about? Who was that? Talos, he wanted to go home and lay down next to his wife. She was right telling him the Gray Quarter was dangerous this late.   There were loud footsteps, a man approached.   “Where did she go?” He asked, panting.   “What?” Lortheim was too disturbed by what just happened to think straight.   “Dam it, don’t test my patience!” Erik grabbed him by the front of his robe and pulled up. “Where did she go? I heard her voice, I know she was here just a moment ago! Talk!”   The priest opened his mouth but couldn’t utter a word. Instead, he pointed at the direction where the scary woman went. Erik muttered a curse and released him, pursuing Aza. Lortheim fell to his knees shaking.   ---   She couldn’t remember how she got before Calixto’s House of Curiosities. She was in luck; the Windhelm’s serial killer’s faux museum was still unoccupied. She reached to a pouch she had with miscellaneous items such as old keys she collected during her travels. Calixto’s key was somehow still in her possession.   The lock grated, but gave in. She pulled the door, but it was abruptly closed by a palm that slammed next to her hand on the doorknob. A familiar scent flushed her, only adding to her problems.   “Nothing you’ll say can make me feel worse.” She said tiredly.   “Who said I’m here to talk?”   She spun and got a firm grab of him. They locked eyes; both looked like they wanted to kill the other. She gnashed her teeth, kicking the door open and pushing him inside, then closing them with another kick. He was quick enough to regain balance and grab her by the wrist, sharply pulling to the floor, so she couldn’t use her swords. A cloud of dust rose when they rolled on the dirty boards. Grunting and cursing, they struggled in the dark until Erik hit his head on a table leg. Aza used this to her advantage and jolted away.   “What the fuck is going on?!” She screamed, dashing to a safer distance. “That guy, on the pier. He… he’s…” She was at a loss of words.   “I know who he is!” He yelled back, getting up. “And I’m as confused as you!”   “Confused? Are you kidding me?!” Aza laughed bitterly. “This isn’t something you can be confused about! I was turned inside out on that pier!!”   She punched a wall. A meaningless painting fell down, the frame shattered.   “Look, I escorted them from Solitude to Windhelm, but I had no idea. I had my suspicions, but I thought the possibility was just too ridiculous to be true!”   “Them?” Her voice lowered dangerously.   “Kemon and his caravan.”   “Shut up, shut up, shut up! I don’t want to hear that name!” She screeched, losing her self-control.   “Oh, like it’s you who had it rough!” He growled, grabbing an ugly alabaster statue and smashing it against the door. “I thought you’re going to leave with him!”   “Sure, because he hadn’t moved on, right? Saabi!” She toppled a shelf with miscellaneous trash. “Her name is Saabi! I got her and her sister safely on dry land. She said she had no coin, but her husband will pay me for my help. Ironic, isn’t it?”   She suddenly recalled what Kazi told her about Saabi – the woman was excited to reunite with her daughter after being apart for so long… No. The Gods were as cruel as Daerdic Princes at heart. She felt like giving up and bashing her head against the walls until it smashes open. That, and howling until she goes mad. But she could only shake her head in disbelief, numbed by pain.   “Yeah, I’m having a hard time controlling laughter.” Erik took his axe and plunged it into an antique, but terribly preserved throne. “I’m sorry.” He suddenly said, losing all the rage empowering him. “I got irrationally scared you’ll leave… again. I was even considering…”   She sprinted to him and rammed herself at him. They stopped on a wall, on the other side something fell down and shattered. Possibly some other terrible exhibit. Aza was all over him, her heat was incredible.   “No, no, no!” She breathed feverishly, her lips and eyes were wet. “Don’t calm down. You fuck better when you’re angry.”   “You…” He roughly pulled her hair back. “I can’t believe the things you make me feel…!”   “Stop talking, I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to think. I want you to do things so bad to me, I’ll forget who I am.”   “My pleasure.”   After months of imagining what he would do to her, he finally had her! She was vulnerable and ready for everything. Divines, he’s going to leave all her holes gapping, she won’t be able to stand properly after he’s done with her! He turned her over and roughly pushed against the wall. The damned cape was in the way, he folded it over her shoulder.   “Pants down.” He ordered, taking off his gauntlets and working his belt.   She undid her pants and let them slide down all the way to her ankles. She straddled her legs as far as she could, sticking her ass out, with her hands flat on the wall, where he could see them. She felt cold, and realized how sweaty she was from all the stress and anger. She needed a good, rough distraction.   “Spread it for me.” Erik instructed further, groping her buttock, working his cock to a semi-erect state.   Aza reached down, her hands were trembling. She couldn’t keep balance, so she had to firmly press her cheek to the rough wall, whilst she spread her pussy. There was no place on Solstheim she could groom herself, so her bush grew back, dark and thick. But between the black hairs there was her hot, swollen puce slit.   He stuffed two fingers in without warning, she sighed agitated, her rump pushed against him. It was obvious it hurt and she wanted it that way. Great, no complaints later. He loosened her, getting hard with her each sigh and grunt. No foreplay, he just wanted to be inside her as fast as possible, then come and flush out all the mates she had ever since Markarth.   He was still a bit flaccid, but he had no patience left. He roughly put her legs together, then grabbed her by the hips and jammed his dick between her thighs. He didn’t penetrate her yet, but couldn’t resist feeling her skin. She moaned with strain, feeling his grip on her hips, and his thighs keeping her legs together. She said nothing, bending further forward, letting him do whatever he pleased.   Erik looked down on her sweaty ass, her trembling hands flat on the wall, her nails digging into the coarse wood. Mara, he dreamed and longed to hammer her hard, but not like this. Now that they were here, he didn’t want revenge anymore. And how low would that make him? Gods, he wanted to do it like old times, like when everything was okay.   “I can’t do it like this.” He said embarrassed, giving her ass a light slap. “Turn over.”   She turned around, expecting him to say something, but he muffled her with his tongue. She finally moaned like she should; with pleasure. Her tongue welcomed his after being apart for so long. Erik intertwined their fingers and pinned her hands above her head. His penis slipped between her legs, gliding against her hairy vulva. Yeah, this was more like it.   “Change of heart?” She breathed out, her pelvis grinded against him with eagerness. She bit her lip, feeling she was getting wet.   “After all we’ve been through, would you really want to do it like a couple of strangers? Come on, let’s find us a bed.”   He took her by the hand, and hilariously, as they both had their pants around their ankles, they tiptoed to the next room. There was a small, fur and hay covered bed there. They needn’t words to start throwing off their armors. The pauldrons and the likes hectically flew across the squalid room. The jade and emerald circlet rested on where the cape fell, followed by Kynareth’s amulet.   When they were done with all their clothing, they clashed. It was electrifying to feel the other’s skin after such a long time. Aza groped his back, scratching him and brushing her chest against his, feeling his thick hairs tickle her hard nipples.   “Are we gonna stand like this all night?” She asked when Erik just wouldn’t let go, massaging her ass and breathing into her ear.   “Just another minute” He muttered, snuggling his face between her shoulder and neck.   Neither of them noticed when he was sitting on the edge of the shaky bed with her on top of him. He insatiably sucked on her tits, grunting with pleasure. She sunk her fingers into his wonderfully red hair, her pussy overflowed, leaving marks on his groin and laps. She couldn’t take it anymore!   She wiggled her behind impatiently, wanting him to do the honors. Erik needn’t be asked twice. He got a grip of his base and slid inside in a blink, her vagina let out a moist sound, squirting juices. She gasped, then rocked her hips, bending back and almost falling off if it weren’t for him holding her by the hips. She missed that feeling of being completely filled up by that huge, veined, perfectly fitting cock.   Having wild, spontaneous sex with a temporary mate was great, but getting intimate with someone you know this well and close was just… Making her mind numb and her pussy rabid. She rode him, bouncing on his rock-hard rod, her clit grinding against his rough hairs, her womb getting hotter and…   “Wait, wait!” She cried in a spasm. But it was too late, she got too far and couldn’t stop from coming too fast like a newbie. She felt a shooting sensation through her abdomen, then a flood of contractions she couldn’t control. She yelped, giving up.   “What, what’s wrong? Wait, did you just…?” Erik asked in disbelief, when she clenched, quivered and suddenly laid on him exhausted. “Did you just come?”   “Shut up.” She shuttered, humiliated.   “Three minutes and you’re done?” He laughed like an idiot, she could feel his shaft move inside. “Oh, I missed you too.” He stroked her trembling back, then bit her ear. “I’ll make it quick, you just lay on me and look pretty.”   “You… Wait, I’m broke and have no potion, let go!” She protested, remembering this was her unsafe time of month and she had no precautions on her. And knowing him, he would generously show her how much he missed her.   “I’ll get you one from the alchemist first thing tomorrow, promise!” He said through clenched teeth. He’s not going to shoot his cum anywhere else than her pussy and that is final!   She was still sopping wet, her dews spurted out with his each thrust, streaming down his member and balls, spraying all around, sticking to their thighs and hairs. This was sloppy, hot and amazing! Despite the cold of Windhelm, the room felt stuffy. He kept pumping, gliding inside freely as he pleased; she was so outrageously wet and relaxed.   He started to feel it, soon just a minute or two! He’ll fill her up good enough to make her gush sperm for hours after they’re done. His glans swell, he could feel his muscles tense, preparing for a climax he hadn’t had in months.   “Waah!” She gasped surprised, feeling the first, hardest, stream exploding in her. “Aw, fu…!” She could only giggle, too tired and restful to complain. “Aah… Mmm…” She finally purred, feeling the throbbing and ejaculating cease. Her stud was out of ammo.   “I think I just lost a pound or two.” Erik breathed, fighting dizziness. “You’re going to have to do some cleaning up, with that bush you grew.” He teased, before kissing her lazily.   “Look who’s talking! It’s dark but I can see yours! It’s like a damned forest fire down there!” Aza rebuked, finding strength to stand up.   Just as expected, she oozed his seed and her juices, he couldn’t see too clear in the gloom, but he could hear it pouring to the floor. And that smell! Were it of two other people, he wouldn’t be allured by it, but knowing it’s the smell of the two of them, he was entranced by that unique aroma.   She found her cape and unstrapped it from her pauldrons, putting the circlet and amulet aside. In the meantime, Erik made himself comfortable on the creaking bed. The furs were old and the hay beneath stung, but there was nothing else.   Aza snug herself next to him and covered them both with the warm cape. She felt exhausted and sleepy. She also felt three diagonal slashes, when her hands wandered his chest and abdomen.   “What’s that?” She asked, running her fingers against the freshly healed cuts.   “That? Gargoyle got me.” Erik replied carelessly. “You should see one of those bastards!” He brushed her wet hair back. “I fought a few when I was with the Dawnguard.”   “That must be quite a story.”   “Sure is. I’ll tell you soon. I’m too tired now. How was Solstheim, by the way?” He inquired cautiously.   “Rough. But I settled the scores and everything is fine. I thought I could move on, but…” She bit her tongue, she didn’t want to think about it now.   “I know you’re too stubborn to ask, so I’ll say it myself. Whatever you decide; leave or walk into this new mess, I’m with you.”   “I missed you.” She suddenly said. “And I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for treating you like a whelp and cowardly leaving you on your own. I don’t regret giving you space, but it was stupid of me to cut you off without a goodbye.”   “Wow. I wasn’t expecting to hear that.”   “Well, I’m not repeating myself.” She muttered, losing patience after her short outburst of honesty.   “I’ll treasure this memory… What’s that?!” He raised his voice, feeling a new scar on her ribcage.   “That? I tangoed with a werewolf.” Aza confessed, though didn’t go into details about how Sinding left a mark on her. “You got all my scars memorized?” She suddenly realized.   “Of course I do!” He puffed. “Who else would?”   ---   She woke up late in the morning with relaxation she hadn’t felt in a long time. It dawned upon her that she hadn’t had deep, good sleep in months. She was so deep in dreamland, that she hadn’t noticed she was alone. All his gear was gone, where…?   “I’m here!” She heard from the next room. “You got your potion next to the bed.”   No matter how many times she drank the contraceptive, she never got used to its pungent taste. She shrugged it off, getting up. Her thighs were crusty, so was her rump. Well, after that much bodily fluids being poured into, or gushing out of her, it was no surprise. She hissed, when some still leaked out. She needed a good scrub badly.   Aza entered the main chamber with the warm cape on her shoulders and whistled seeing the damage the two of them did in the night. But that wasn’t her problem, even when Calixto was around this place was a slum. Erik somehow managed to set fire in the hearth with the pieces of broken furniture.   “I hadn’t noticed when you left.” She said, scratching her sticky pubic hairs. She needed thorough waxing.   “I didn’t want to wake you up, though the thought of tying you to the bed in case you decide to do something stupid crossed my mind.” He replied, bustling around the room. “I melted some snow for you, I can smell you from here.” He said, gesturing at a bucket with warm water and a piece of cloth. He was even courteous enough to get a small bar of soap from the alchemy shop.   She sat down on a miraculously undamaged chair and cleaned herself thoroughly. The sun seeping through the barred up windows was bright, it must have been late.   “What time is it?” She asked, running the cloth against her chest, her nipples stood up at attention.   “Around noon.” He said, warming his palms against the fire.   “When did you get up?”   “Early. I managed to have a quick wash-up, eat and do some shopping, whilst you were still asleep. You’re not as alert as you used to be.”   “I’m getting old.” She said, undoing her hair. Her stomach growled.   “You can eat what’s left of my supplies. As I recall you’re broke, eh?” He gave her a smug grin. “So… what’s the plan?” He asked, finally giving into his concerns.   “You know where their camp is, right?” Aza stared at him intensely.   “They might have already moved out, but they shouldn’t be hard to track down.” He said after a moment of consideration. “Why, what do you want to do?”   “I want to see her.” Aza revealed, looking away, exhaling heavily. “I don’t want to meet her face to face, I’m not that selfish to turn her life upside down. But I just want to see her and make sure she’s healthy and happy. I want to know that all the shit I’ve been through wasn’t in vain and something good came out of it.”   “That’s a good plan.” He approved. “And what then?”   “I’m tired of Skyrim.” She confessed. “The plan is to let me see her and make peace, then… You said you wanted to see Hammerfell. You’ll need me if you want to survive the climate.”   “Oh, I didn’t know I can’t handle a hotter day without your help.” He crinkled his nose, recognizing that patronizing tone.   “You’re a Nord. You have no idea just how hot a day on Hammerfell can be.” She rebuked without a blink. “Did… you see her? Talk to her?” She dared ask on a sudden impulse.    “She kind of looks like you. Her attitude is definitely yours.” He said faster than he could think.   “Oh, you did not just say that…!” She said in a tone that gave him the old familiar chills.   ---   “This isn’t my horse!” The Redguard screamed at the High Elf stable owner, when he presented her with a paint nag. The poor thing looked like it just didn’t care about living anymore. “I left you a perfectly fine mare, how dare you tell me this emaciated horse is mine!!”   “I’m sorry, I did all I could, but she just wouldn’t eat!” The man swore, warding himself away with his arms. “I checked on her regularly and even housed her indoors, but she was just too miserable to bother with my efforts!”   Aza broke down into a bitter cackle. Excellent, the horse she cared for so much was now on the verge of collapsing and dying. Why? Was she sick, did the idiot elf neglect his responsibilities, or did the horse just fell into misery when left completely alone? Well, this was just great.   Erik passively observed the unpleasant scene, waiting for her outburst to pass, so they can make the Altmer offer compensation. His horse was in fine condition, although it spent only one night in the stables. He was in such a hurry yesterday, that the thought of checking up on Aza’s horse hadn’t even crossed his mind. The bay mare gently nudged the bony paint one, the other barely acknowledged her company and neighed sadly. This was a heartbreaking sight.   “And you call yourself a horse master?” Someone joined into the conversation.   Erik froze, but hadn’t reached for his weapon. Aza let go of the front of the elf’s shirt, then looked over her shoulder. Kemon stood at the base of the bridge leading to Windhelm, maintaining safe distance from them.   “And you’re an expert on horses?” She asked after a longer moment, facing the man who she had a daughter with.   “They’re a part of my life.” He replied, enduring her stare. He was also visibly tense. “That poor thing can still be saved if given the right care. Though, I wouldn’t recommend riding her until she gets better.”   “That’s reasonable.” She nodded, but her gaze was still set on him. When she saw him last he had some dark hair left in his beard. Now, it was completely white. “If you want me to leave without any incident you’ll pay me in gold for your transgressions, clear?” She turned to the High Elf.   “Yes. I was going to do it without your threats, madam. I know and respect my trade.” The elf replied with dignity, then went inside to get the gold.   “Could the three of us talk?” Kemon asked, addressing the two.   “I don’t know, can we?” She asked her partner.   “We’re all adults here.” Erik said blandly, fighting the clench in his jaw.   “I had a long talk with Saabi.” The caravanner said. “She spoke highly of you. I’m grateful you got her and my sister-in-law safe.” He reached into his satchel for payment. “She regretted not being able to pay you herself…”   “So, you’re doing it for her to make sure I won’t butt into your lives and mess things up? No worries, I won’t.” She declined payment with a daring look.   “I am not bribing you to step away.” Kemon replied calmly. “To the contrary. I think we can strike a deal. Please, accept your gold so we can talk about my proposal.”   She had no idea what would she do if she touches him by accident when she takes the coinpurse. She had no idea if she turns violent or tearful. Thankfully, their fingers hadn’t met. The silk of the coinpurse burned, the gold inside felt heavy.   “We’re listening.” She said, thankful Erik kept quiet.   “You already know our caravan is secretive,” Kemon addressed the Nord. “It’s been months since we were forced to leave Hammerfell, against our will. We have enemies, who are rich and influential enough to pursue us even here. We have to cross the border and get to Cyrodiil. We need someone who knows this land and can be trusted. I don’t know how it came to us meeting under these circumstances. But it doesn’t matter.” He turned to the woman. “I know you will do all you can to keep us safe. I know you can be trusted. What say you?”   “Sure.” Erik said carelessly before Aza could draw breath. “I’ll go see Abdal and tell him you’re on your way.”   He mounted his mare and was off to where the caravan camped, leaving the two former spouses alone. Aza knew he left them alone so they could talk, but she hadn’t looked forward to it.   “You’re alive.” He said with a frown, looking into her mismatched eyes. The pain on his face… It came from seeing all the scars she gained in over ten years. “I’m… glad.”   “And you’re old.” She talked back, crossing her arms. “Are you going to cry?” She dared through clenched teeth.   “Are you?” Kemon asked back.   “We both mourned and moved on, haven’t we?”   “That’s what I thought up until yesterday.” The man’s shoulders hunched. “Ism-”   “That’s not my name anymore!” She cut him off. “Don’t say it. Have some mercy.” Her voice shook, she covered it with a grunt. “We’re keeping who I am a secret.” Aza conditioned. “I don’t want anyone to suffer.”   “That goes without saying. I…”   “Please!” She said sharper than she intended. “We both know we will have this talk, but not now. I’m at my limits. I just want to see her and have it over with.” She looked at Kemon. “I’m scared to see her. I have no idea what will I do.”   “She’s blooming.” He said quietly. “Just how you’d want it.”   The adventurer spun around and grabbed a patch of snow from the ground. She rubbed it forcefully into her burning face, fighting tears and a scream that crept up her throat. It took a longer moment for her to stop shaking. Kemon just stood in place, knowing that whatever he’ll do will make things worse.   “Does she get along with Saabi?” She asked after wiping the snow off her face. Her throat was tight.   “Yes.”   “Then I am happy.” She exhaled loudly. “Let’s go.” She quietly said, when the elf came with the gold.   Riding the mare would be pure cruelty, so she led her by the reins, with what little gear she had stored on her own back to relieve the animal. Kemon walked next to her, leading his graceful Hammerfell horse.   “Is he good to you?” He asked when the silence became unbearable.   “He’s my boy.” She said without thinking. “My man,” she corrected herself. “It’s… complicated.”   “I am glad you found someone…” He dared to merely brush her shoulder, she didn’t push him away.   “What did I say? We’ll have a long, deep, excruciating talk later. Not now, there’s planning to do. And I want some answers once we get to your camp.”   They walked, with tremendous effort making idle chatter, pretending they weren’t once married, before being brutally separated. When the camp drew near they could hear the lute and a strong voice with a Nordic accent singing a ballad.   “… Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes…!”   “What the…?!” She growled angered. She hated that ballad.   “What is going on here?” Kemon asked sharply, leaving his horse with one of the guards, and gesturing her to do the same. “Abdal!” He addressed his most trusted man. “What’s going on here?”   “We caught him near our camp.” Abdal pointed at the man who was performing the song, visibly amused. “He claimed to be a travelling bard. Well, we told him to prove it, and as you can see, he is indeed a bard.”   “That I am!” The man with the lute exclaimed. “My name is Talsgar, master of song and lute! Unlike my colleagues up in Solitude, I firmly believe song and poetry are to be shared, not stored in colleges or moldy old tomes! Especially in times like these!”   He was tanned, which was unusual for a Nord. His windswept hair was short, brightened from living outdoors. He wore colorful, comfortable traveler clothing and held his lute as if it was his own child.   “Well, then. You’ll spend some more time sharing them in Windhelm, friend.” Kemon said calmly. “Abdal, would you…?”   “Let’s not be harsh!” Saabi pushed herself between the men, shielding the bard with her own body. “We could use some entertainment, it would do my sister good if she could listen to songs. And we would like that too!” She addressed the rest of the women, who loudly voiced their approval. “We would love to have you, master bard. And we do not take no for an answer…” She smiled kindly. “You could say, that from now on you’re a prisoner to our hospitality.”   “I am honored, madam!” Talsgar bowed, pretending not to notice the hidden threat. He then played his lute, conjuring a sigh of awe from the women.   Aza snorted. Although she tried, she just couldn’t hate Saabi. She was simply too good a person to be hated. But after learning who her husband and daughter were, her presence didn’t give her the slightest comfort.   The crowd dispersed, people were preparing for departure. Saabi approached the heroine.   “I’m glad we caught you.” She said warmly. “Did you take care of that thing you had in Windhelm?”   “I think I have.” She replied hesitantly, finding a red mane at the back of the camp. Erik was busy taking some of the burdens from Aza’s horse onto his mare.   “That’s good to hear. Have you filled them in?” She addressed Kemon, who dared not speak with the two of them present.   “All they needed to know.” He answered truthfully, unsure of where to look.   “Splendid.” She turned to the heroine again. “I must say, me meeting you and my husband meeting your partner is quite the coincidence.” She laughed like a young girl, even though she was much older from Aza.   “Yeah… Someone could say it was fate.” She agreed, uneasy.   “Maa!” A girl approached and jealously grabbed Saabi by the shoulder. “Is it true we’re taking a bard with us?”   She was perfect. Blooming, just like Kemon said. Healthy and energetic, she would be a great beauty one day. Her eyes were the most intense shade of blue. She was slender and graceful. Just like her birthmother dreamed her to be.   “Oh, just where I thought I got rid of you!” Saabi joked. “This is my daughter, Zia.” She introduced the girl to the adventurer.   Aza couldn’t utter a word, the world around slowed down and blurred. There was just the face she saw before her. She wasn’t three anymore. She was fourteen and had her whole life ahead of her. Aza’s sacrifice wasn’t in vain. But that didn’t bring her closure. Instinctively, she felt like grabbing her and smelling the top of her head, where years ago she smelled so wonderfully, like only a baby could. All the things she did for this young lady hit her like a warhammer in the face. She birthed, nursed and provided for her. She gave up everything to make sure she was safe… And now she wasn’t hers anymore.   “Madame Aza will be escorting us with our Nord friend.” Kemon said, feeling how tense the atmosphere got.   “That oaf?” The girl snarled, breaking the lock that fixed her eyes with the adventurer’s. During that brief moment she felt… uneasy around that towering woman. Not because of her appearance, there was something strange in that mercenary’s stare.   “Zia!” Saabi scolded. “I’m sorry, she still hadn’t learned to think before she speaks.”   “It’s alright.” Aza managed to say. “We have some planning to do, yes?” She looked at Kemon imploringly. “Help!” Her eyes said.   “We’ll be going now. Thank you again.” The older woman excused herself and her daughter.   “Coffee?” He suggested, gently putting his hand on her pauldron and leading to where the women were busy with packing up the field kitchen.   “Rum!” She could only shutter.

Chapter 4 - Separate Ways

  Regular spiders were bad enough. Frostbite spiders were a revolting blight on the face of Skyrim. But a mine infested with frostbite spiders? Now that was something only a madman would agree to clear out.   That madman exited Redbelly Mine covered in gore and bits of cobweb. Thankfully, none of it was his. His vision was blurry, the poison the damned beasts bore was taking its effect.   “By the Divines, you alright?” Filnjar, the blacksmith and unofficial head of the local community, approached him concerned.   “Uh… I’m dizzy. But them there, those… uh things with hairy legs…” the hero had foam in the corners of his mouth. “I got ‘em alright. So… um… you can pay me and I’ll be…”   The blacksmith missed him by mere inches and the man fell on his back, his red hair was soaked in sweat. There was a woman’s scream, then a calm, but firm voice.   “Stand aside Filnjar, I got this!”   Erik felt warmth on his temples and light slipping through his shut eyelids. He opened his eyes with difficulty, seeing a familiar face.   “Erandur?” He whispered barely audible. Was he hallucinating or was it really the reformed priest of Mara?   “Don’t speak, my friend. You’re bloated with poison, I must concentrate.”   The Dunmer focused all his will on flushing the poison out. Erik inhaled deeply, enjoying the evening air fill his lungs. Erandur’s hands were pleasantly warm and soothing, he felt the toxins evaporate with his every breath.   He cautiously stood up. Now did he notice the chestnut horse grazing near one of the miner’s houses, next to his bay mare, but paying her no mind. He was Jenassa’s gelding. One of the miners, a petite but energetic young woman, was looking over Erandur’s shoulder. She had a small nose and pouty lips, her hair was short and dark. She looked an awful like Ysolda.   “Thanks.” He said, brushing off some of the strange goo one of the spiders gushed on him.   The four stood awkwardly for a moment.   “I’ll… go see how’s the stew doing.” The woman said, after trotting inn place a bit.   “I’ll join you soon.” The priest replied.   “I assume the two of you know each other?” Filnjar raised his brow.   “You could say that.” Erik scratched the back of his head.   “We… were on a mission once.” Erandur explained briefly.   “I see… Listen, laddie” the blacksmith addressed the hero. “It’s getting dark and you’re in no condition to travel. You can stay in my house for the night, I have some furs you could rest on next to the fire.”   “That would be great. But about my pay…”   “You’ll get your gold, no worries. I’ll even be generous and give you a small discount on repairing your armor and that axe.”   “So you can pay me less?” Erik laughed tiredly. Still, his gear could use repairing. “I’m in.”   “I’m surprised to see you again, my friend.” Erandur said once they were alone. They sat on logs near a small bonfire, where the miners would usually relax after work.   “So am I. We…” he bit his tongue too late. “We were in Whiterun after… you know, doing the deed. But you were already gone. Well, the world is still standing, so you know we got the job done.”   “I am relieved. Even though I was of no use to you…”   “Nonsense. We couldn’t have gotten so far without you.” Erik drew circles in the ground with a stick. “The bitch left me.” He suddenly said, surprised how calm he sounded.   “I see.” Erandur’s face was hard to read.   “Yeah. Left me a nice note and everything. Wrote I’m a man now and I don’t need her constantly looking over my shoulder. That I should go and make my own decisions and mistakes now. And if fate really does exist, like I kept telling her, we’ll meet again. Well, if that happens, I’ll be ready. ” He stuck the stick deep in the ground, the twig snapped. “And so will my axe.”   “I am not surprised she made such a decision.” The elf said quietly.   “What?!”   “Forgive me if I sound inconsiderate.” Erandur humbly bowed his head. “But I think some time alone can give you a lot of perspective. I… I’ve been here, in Shor’s Stone before. Back then I was on my way to Dawnstar. That’s when I met Sylgja, the lovely young creature you just saw.”   “She looks an awful like…” Erik coughed, remembering the night in Nightcaller Temple. “You were saying?”   “She had suffered from a fall and broke her leg. I helped her as best as I could, then was on my way to face the Vaermina coven. That is when I met our Redguard friend, and the rest you know.” He began his tale. An owl flew nearby carrying a fat mouse in its claws. “I was of no use after assisting the healers in Kynareth’s temple, whilst you fought the World-Eater. I left Whiterun with no fixed destination. I took her horse and ashes, it felt like the right thing to do.” He said. ‘Her’ was of course Jenassa, the amazon who met her end between Odahviing’s jaws.   “Go on.” Erik encouraged patiently. He missed talking to someone other than innkeepers and stable masters.   “I scattered her ashes in a place I found suiting. Forgive me, but I can’t tell, it’s considered bad luck among Dunmer to reveal where one’s ashes are. I needed some time to think my life over. I wandered Skyrim until I decided to go to Riften and visit Mara’s temple. Ironic, isn’t it? I’m a reformed priest of Her Benevolence, and yet I have never been to her temple.” He rubbed his gray palms.   “That must have been difficult.”   “It was. I was looking for answers, for Mara to give me a sign. I will never forget the priestess that welcomed me. She was a Dunmer like me, her eyes were completely black. And yet, she was the picture of peace and kindness. I told her who I was and why I came. She told me Mara needed an emissary. I was sent here, to Shor’s Stone, to tell the first person I would meet their prayer was answered. You already know that person was Sylgja.”   “Oh.”   “Mara moves in mysterious ways. I remained here for a few days, enjoying the company and hospitality. The miners often suffer from falls and poisonous gases, the nearest healers are in Riften. I was offered to stay and practice my skills as a healer in exchange for food and bed. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”   “You don’t want to settle down?”   “I do. I feel I finally found my place and purpose. Perhaps Mara is giving me a sign that my penitence is over? I dare not assume to know her intentions.”   “Why not? I say go for it.” Erik advised, feeling tired. He wished Erandur all the best, but he had his own problems. “I should get some sleep. I’m glad things are turning right for you, but I’m preoccupied with my own troubles. I leave first thing in the morning.”   “I understand and hold no grudge. I won’t preach, but know this; Mara is the goddess of love and compassion, but I think her greatest gift is forgiveness. And with that I leave you, I’m sure Sylgja grows impatient.”   They shook hands and exchanged wishes of good fortune. Erik went to Filnjar’s house, Erandur to Sylgja’s.   ---   “I can see your leg is now fully healed.” He noted, gently rubbing her ankle.   “Due in no small part thanks to you.”   Sylgja’s house was small and cozy. It composed of just one room, but had everything she needed; a bed, chest, fireplace and table. Fire flickered in the hearth, casting warm light around the room. The smell of simple, but satisfying supper they ate was still in the air.   Erandur ran his fingertips up her calf and thigh, enjoying the peace of the moment. He reached for a plain clay mug and drank, surprised he never had spiced mead before. Enjoying the flavor settling in his mouth, he rested his head on her thigh. Her skin was light, surprisingly smooth and warm, unlike the hot dry skin of Dark Elves.   “Are you just going to stare?” The Nord woman asked, taking his reverie for lack of interest. “I was hoping to be your dessert.” She chuckled, adjusting herself more comfortably on the table, with her legs spreading over the edge.   “Your hospitality is unmatched, my lady.” He praised, massaging her thighs.   He rolled her shirt up, freeing her wonderfully soft and full breasts. Swinging a pitchaxe did wonders for their shape. Sylgja sighed, cupping them and pinching her nipples, whilst the priest’s gentle hands progressed towards her sweet pussy. She had a rare shape; her whole vulva was hidden inward between her plump outer lips. He had to spread them to see her hot and eager inner lips. Her hairs were trimmed short, dark and soft. Human females had body hair, unlike elven women, but he didn’t mind.   “Take your hood off, I want to see your hair…” She pleaded, pouting.   Erandur obliged, his well-kept dark hair was fashioned in a tight braid reaching all the way to the middle of his back. The miner blushed when he pulled it over his shoulder. He never suspected women could react so enthusiastically at the sight hidden under his monk hood.   “Ah! You tickle!” She cried with pleasure when he dug in, sliding his nimble tongue inside her. His beard was pleasantly itchy.   “Shall I stop?”   “No!”   He enjoyed her wetting slit, as he felt excitement overcoming him. She was full of life and energy. Her straightforward, spontaneous personality struck a chord in his heart. After his dark years as a Vaermina worshipper, and years of penitence as a priest of Mara, he could finally be himself and live his own life. Mayhap something did push him towards this sweet, young creature? Mayhap Mara did give him a sign? Mayhap…   Overthinking was a waste of time. Right now, all he wanted to focus on, was fucking her so good, that she’ll never want anything else than Dunmer cock. He already gave her a few intense evenings, but he wanted to fully convince her that once you go gray, you never go back.   “You make me melt…” Sylgja sighed, as he continued eating her shy pussy.   “I want to make you overflow, sera.” Erandur’s wide smile had nothing to do with innocence. He reached for a small bowl with honey.   “It’s all sticky.” She giggled enthusiastically, when he sweetened her already sweet flesh.   “It’s worth it.” He said, enjoying the unique taste that filled his mouth. “If only you knew how good you taste.”   She reached for his hand and pulled up to her mouth. She licked and sucked his fingers, little sparkles danced in her eyes. Though sweet and humble in the day, she was full of ideas at night.   “I want to taste you when you come inside me.” She whispered, licking off the remains of her own juices and honey.   “And how would you make me come?” The elf teased.   “First I want to suck you nice and good, so you’re hard and slippery” she said, sliding off the table and down to her knees. “And then I want you to take me on the fur in front of the fire.”   “I’d love that.” He said, relaxing and gently patting her on the head, whilst the miner took care of the bulge under his robes.   The very sight of his member always made her look so amusingly surprised. She never had a circumcised man before, not to mention a Mer. She was always overjoyed to take his thin, but long shaft in her mouth. And the sounds she made! Her lovely slurping and sucking were music to his ears.   She polished his spear until he felt he couldn’t take it anymore. Impatiently, he tore off his robe and dragged her to the fireplace. Giggling, she got on all fours and eagerly stuck her ass out like a bitch in heat. She reached behind and stretched her slit open, inviting him to nail her however he’d please.   Erandur struck with a finesse thrust. Her wail conjured shivers down his spine. He grabbed her arms and pulled back, so that he was buried inside her to the bare limits. Sylgja cried and whimpered, as her pussy was rapidly being jabbed by his gray dick. She felt the tip almost jam into her cervix. As the priest foretold, he made her overflow; wet moist dripped down her legs.   “That’s not fair, I can’t see you!” She complained, wiggling her ripe ass.   “Do you want to?” He teased, as her slippery cheeks grinded against him.   “Yeees!” She squirmed, but he held her firmly.   He made her endure the subtle torture for another moment before lessening his grip. She immediately lied on her back and wrapped herself around him, greedily biting into his lips. The Dunmer grunted, yet again awestruck by her vigor. He kept thrusting, squeezing out all the wetness out of her youthful pussy.   Sylgja impatiently undid his braid and let his hair flow freely down his back. Dark Elves had the most amazing eyes, their skin felt incredible to the touch. Tasting an elf’s mouth was addictive almost as much as sucking one’s uncovered cock.   “Aah…” he groaned when she reached and grabbed him by the scrotum. “Not that hard my lady, have mercy on me!”   “I’m almost there” her eyes were glazed with pleasure. “I want you to come inside me.”   “So you can have a taste?” He asked amused, slamming hard into her womb.   “Yes…!” Her sweet voice was strained and yet ecstatic.   He bit into her neck as he felt his loins move without his will. The girl sunk her hands into his hair, her thighs squeezed his hips like a vise. She cried, almost begged him to climax inside her burning vagina. When he gave in to her pleas, the girl felt streams of his cum fill her in hard, disharmonious intervals. She came, her plump labials shut tight around his throbbing shaft, greedily keeping his sperm from leaking out.   The smell of her sweat had a warm note. Perhaps it was a matter of pheromones. Whatever it was, Erandur was drawn to it. She moaned, patting him on the back; he drifted away in his thoughts and was now smothering her. With a muttered apology, he laid flat on his back, his hair and beard were in a mess.   Sylgja rubbed her belly, not a thought spoiled her bliss. The priest observed her with a smile. He reached down to her slit and scooped some of his cum. She licked his fingers with delight. This was it, no Nord could have that spicy flavor. She doubted she’d ever go back to Men after having a Mer.   “How does it taste?”   “Spicy… with something sweet, I think it’s the honey.”   “That’s you, my dear.”   She brushed her sweaty hair back, her heart started to slow down its crazy pace. For a moment there was silence. She started growing anxious of what will happen now. She glanced at the elf, who’s burning red eyes were fixed on her.   “I’m sorry, I’m simply trying to find the right words for what I want to say. I… well…” he lost his resolve. “Would love to have you as dessert every night.” He said before realizing how absurd his words were.   Sylgja laughed, rolling on the fur. Her tits bounced freely. He was sweet when he was awkward.   “My bed is large enough for two and I have a lot of room.” She made seemingly irrelevant note.   “I have little to bring into this house aside from my good intentions and devotion.” He said solemnly.   “Oh stop it you!” She puffed, resting her head on his chest. “I’d be glad to have you, my friend.”    “Friend?”   “You’ll need to do much better, than make me cry out your name in pleasure, if you want to be someone more than a friend.” She teased.   In the morning the priest went to find Filnjar. The smith was up early as always, going about his morning routine at his forge.   “If you’d got up a bit earlier, you could say goodbye to your friend.” The blacksmith said as a greeting. “Just as I was done with his gear overnight, he was on his horse.”   “We said our goodbyes yesterday. But that’s not why I’m here. I accept your offer.” The elf said.   For a moment Filnjar was staring into the distance. A good healer was hard to come by and accidents occurred daily.   “I’m glad.” He said, putting his hammer away. “A healer is exactly what the miners need. Your skills are invaluable to us. We have little to offer…”   “I think I have everything I need right here.” Erandur said humbly. This was going to be a good day.   ---   “Trolls!” Borgakh the Steel Heart spat on the dead creature’s head. “No match for an Orc.”   The cave was now cleared of its inhabitants. There were next to no spoils, as trolls valued meat over trinkets. Yet, their fat and skulls could fetch a nice price with the right people.   The chiefman’s proud daughter sheathed her sword. The main chamber was filled with the stench of trolls, she had to catch a breath of fresh air.   “Warn me next time you decide to play juggernaut.” Her companion nagged, appearing from behind a nearby rock.   Borgakh snorted. The Redguard woman, who convinced her to get out of the stronghold and see the world, was a fierce warrior, but in the long term her company was tiresome.   “I don’t need you to tell me what to do.” The Orc replied indifferently.   “You can go back home if you don’t like it, princess” Aza grunted. “Come on, I found a coinpurse one of the poor bastards they ate must have dropped. Enough to afford not skinning them for a few coins.”   “I’m the chief’s daughter, not a princess.” Borgakh protested.   “I see no difference.” The Redguard said. “Both have little freedom and have to marry some influential prick. But whatever.”   The Orc kicked a dead troll as they were leaving the dark cave. Yes, she had to marry another chief soon. And yes, she didn’t want that. She wanted to live her own life. And on the other hand, she didn’t want to disrespect her tribe. She prayed to Malacath to make her as strong as any man and still as wise as any woman. And Malacath answered her prayer. Oh, that he did…   “Finally, fresh air!” She exclaimed, inhaling deeply. Her orcish armor shone in the moonlight.   “There’s a pond nearby. Good place for a camp.” Aza noted.   “Lead on.”   The two set up camp and ate. Aza’s mare was grazing nearby. Borgakh refused to ride a mount as she wanted to ‘walk the world on her own two feet’. Thankfully she didn’t shoot hungry looks at the animal, like most of her kinsmen did.   “So, how are you enjoying freedom?” Aza asked, after they were done with their food and drink.   “It’s… good.” The Orc said. “I’m happy, I guess.”   “Oh, curb your enthusiasm less it overwhelms you.” The adventurer yawned.   She persuaded Steel Heart to travel with her on an impulse. It was more as a means to fill the irritating void she felt travelling alone, than the Orc’s good. Still, she didn’t envy the position of chief’s daughters. Strength and pride were what made a good Orc wife, yes, but in the end most had their weddings arranged.   “So… Had fun raiding that ancient tomb?” She made idle conversation, referring to a ruin they explored recently.   “Yes.” Borgakh agreed.   “I expected more than just confirmation. Come on, engage me in conversation.”   “I can engage you in some hand-to-hand drill.” The Orc’s yellow eyes narrowed.   “I’ll pass.” Aza shrugged. “Fine, be that way. I’m not gonna smooch your arse.” She yawned. “Nighty night.”   She was about to lay down under her cape and call it a night, but Steel Heart motioned closer to her bedroll.   “It’s chilly, we should sleep together.” She said boldly. “Don’t get any ideas. It’s the warmth I want from you and nothing else.”   “I hear you.” The Redguard gave her some room. “I’m not looking forward to pneumonia either.”   “Keep your hands above the waist.” The Orc’s voice suddenly had a sharp tone.   “Would you believe I can control myself?” The scarred adventurer grunted.   They spooned, giving each other some comfort from the cold that roamed Haafingar. The cape gave more warmth than a normal piece of material would. No doubt it was enchanted with a warming effect, a perfect thing for this weather. It started to snow, they semiconsciously clung to each other.   Aza dreamed. The dream was blurry, with no distinctive characters or events. She was positive of one thing; it was a dirty one. In her sleep she held Borgakh tighter, caressing the Orc’s flat and hard stomach. She muttered a name, advancing lower, gently stroking her companion’s groin. Soon, there was a bulge in the Orsimer’s pants. The Redguard’s nimble fingers had no trouble with unlacing them and freeing a steadily developing erection.   “Mmm… Missed me?” Aza muttered, steadily jerking the thick shaft. “Because I did…” She stretched to bite his neck. But it wasn’t him, it was Steel Heart.   A second later, Aza was elbowed in the gut by the Orc. Borgakh rolled away and got on her feet.   “I have no idea who this Erik of yours is, but I’m not him!” She roared enraged.   “That’s a…!” The adventurer shuttered dumbstruck. The Orsimer had a…   “That’s none of your business!” Steel Heart snapped, quickly fastening her pants.   She picked up a few furs and laid as far from Aza as possible, shooting her murderous glares. The snow and wind couldn’t break the awkward silence.   “Um… Well, I have no idea what to say.”   “Then shut up. And don’t you dare get closer.” Borgakh warned.   “Relax. I’m not going to jump you.” The adventurer assured, regaining her cool. “Not my business what you carry around between your legs.”   “Good.” Borgakh snorted.   ---   Days passed and the strange incident seemed to fade away. The two maintained basic civility, steadily advancing towards the Pale.   “I had a good time with you.” The Orc said, whilst they prepared to rest in a cleared out fort.   “Those few weeks have been interesting.”   “Yes.” The green-skinned woman bowed her head. “But I’m afraid I will soon leave you. I enjoyed freedom to go wherever I please, but my place is with my people.” She frowned. “I am of age and should be married… If any man would want me like this.”   Aza said nothing, waiting for the chief’s daughter to start her tale. Honestly, she was curious how did Borgakh come to possess the best of two worlds.   “I was once conflicted about leaving the stronghold and marrying. I was young and selfish and had no idea what to do. I prayed to Malacath to be as strong as any man and still as wise as a woman. The Prince of the Bloody Curse answered my prayer…” She grunted, then snapped her jaw. Her ivory fangs were perfectly polished. “It seems he has a crude sense of humor. Or maybe he simply punished me for my arrogance, I will never know. The change was subtle, it happened during a longer period of time. In the end, as I matured I was a woman… with a man part.”   “A big, fat, juicy cock.” The Redguard’s good eye was fixed on the Orsimer’s savage, yet attractive face.   “I should’ve known you’d turn it into a joke!” Borgakh grunted, reaching for her weapon. “Stand, I want this over with!” Her yellow eyes were burning, the red war paint made her even more intimidating.   But instead of accepting the challenge, the scarred woman was lounging relaxed on the slain bandit ringleader’s double bed. She was calm and merely observed her companion’s outburst.   “Relax. I’m just stating the obvious. It’s big and fat like any Orc’s. And looks quite tasty, from what I remember.”   “What?” Steel Heart was speechless. Did the Redguard want to… mate with her?   “Yes, I’m hitting on you. Come here.” Aza beckoned, making room on the bed.   Borgakh cast her sword aside and sat on the edge. She felt Aza’s hands on her strong shoulders.   “You just want to bed a freak!” She tried to fight the pleasant shivers she felt along her spine, as the Redguard gently worked her tense muscles.   “I won’t lie, I will never have another chance to have such a… unusual bedfellow.” She smirked, feeling how the strong body reacted to her touch. “But I have the feeling you could use some company as well.”   “I’ve never used it on anyone.” The Orc confessed.   Aza almost squealed with joy. Orc dickgirl virgin! This opportunity was just too precious to waste.   “Don’t worry” she whispered into Borgakh’s pointed ear. “I’ll be gentle.”   “And I sure won’t!” The Orc grinned, exposing her teeth.   Before the human woman could act, Steel Heart slung her arm around her waist and shoved off the bed.   “What in Oblivion is wrong with you?!” Aza yelped, massaging the back of her head, where she hit against the floor.   “Undo my pants and find out.” The Orsimer teased.   With a curse, Aza crawled between Borgakh’s knees and did what she was told to. Gods, that was indeed an impressive dick. She stroked it with both hands, the Orc grunted with pleasure. Underneath the shaft was the slit of the green pussy. It seemed that the cock was previously her clit. The vulva was like most orcish; the outer lips were green, the inner coral. And just like the inner labials, the glans was also coral underneath the foreskin. The cock hardened and stiffened, ready for her undivided attention. She had no intention of hurrying, she wanted to enjoy this unique experience to the fullest.   “Just watch the teeth!” Steel Heart warned, nervously observing Aza working her member with her lips and tongue.   “I know what I’m doing, trust me.” She assured with a smirk.   There were no balls to cuddle, so she reached for the pussy. She encircled it with her fingertips, at the same time squeezing the base of the green cock, and taking it down all the way to the tonsils. The taste was strangely sharp, but not unpleasant. Borgakh reacted spontaneously, grunting and rocking her hips.   “Don’t slip your fingers in.” She conditioned, spreading her strong thighs wider.   “No worries. I’ll leave you unspoiled.” Aza promised, jerking the marvelously veined shaft. The web of thick veins was sure to make her scream tonight. Just the thought of having it inside made her pussy melt. The proud Orsimer was slippery and sleek as well.   “Do you like it?” She teased, tapping the tip of the penis with her tongue.   “Yes, I do. Are you going to rub it in my face?”   “I’d rather rub my muff in your face.”   “Then bring it over here…” She said boldly, pulling the adventurer up on the bed. She stripped her with little effort.   “You watch the teeth, okay?” Aza squeaked, feeling the sharp fangs on her inner thighs.   “I’ll only use them if you act like a wretch.”   “Ah, you are truly a woman at heart!”   Steel Heart ran her rough tongue up and down Aza’s vulva. Her pointed fangs did the gentle skin no harm.   “Nice haircut.” She noted, licking the strip of trimmed hairs.   “It’s a thing back on Hammerfell. Ah!” The scarred woman’s voice sunk into a wail when she felt the agile tongue brutally thrust into her vagina. “Aww, damn, damn, damn, I had no idea Orcs can do that!” She screamed, amazed how her companion’s tongue slipped deeper and deeper.   Borgakh knew how to please a woman, being one herself. Her sharp tongue found all the tender places and roughly worked them into submission. Aza didn’t try to act tough, she melted in the green woman’s tight clutch, dripping and squirming.   “Enough!” The Orc suddenly roared. She grabbed the Redguard by the knees and bend them, raising her hips to the desired angle.   “Wouldn’t you like to lay down and have me do all the work?” Aza asked, alarmed. Borgakh was a big girl, it wasn’t clear if she knew her own strength and the size of her member.   “No!” The dickgirl refused, roughly pushing her against the mattress. “No one’s going to be on top of me!” She grunted, as their abdomens clashed, her cock was sandwiched between the puce labials.   “Rowdy and selfish, you are part man alright!” She screamed.   “What?” The Orsimer suddenly stopped.   “Slowly, bitch. I want to enjoy myself as well.” Aza’s brows crossed. “Now fuck me.”   “Like this?” Steel Heart shifted a bit, her glans slipped inside.   “Yeah, first slow.” Aza muttered, bending her knees and holding her companion by the hips.   “Oh-uh…” The Orc growled, feeling the human from the inside. The slippery heat was amazing.   “Then hard enough to make me scream, love.”   Borgakh explored the new feeling. She now knew why males couldn’t resist something as seemingly trivial as a little hole between a female’s legs. She jerked her hips faster and bolder, grunting and moaning. Aza scratched her hips, then lifted herself a bit up and suckled the impressive green tits.   “That’s a nice pair” the scarred woman noted, sucking and biting the dark green nipples.   “I can say the same about you.” the Orc replied, reaching for the human’s tits.   They gave each other a pleasant massage, the green woman now deep in the Redguard to the limits. Her juices leaked out, slipping down her cock, mixing with Aza’s.   “Does it feel like a man fucks you?” She asked, smothering her with her bulk to show who’s boss.   “Mmm… better.” The Redguard laughed, slapping Borgakh’s ripe ass.   They kissed, the round human teeth grinded against the sharp orcish. Their flat, muscular abdomens were now so sweaty, that they glided against each other instead of grinding. The furs under Aza were wet from both overflowing pussies.   “Ugh…! I’m going to come!” The chief’s daughter groaned, feeling her cock throbbing and burning up.   As much as the Redguard’s twat was irresistibly wet and welcoming, the Orc nature took the best of Borgakh. She quickly pulled out and inserted the tip into her mate’s unprotected asshole. Aza cried in surprise, the Orc brutally kept her in place, roaring in pleasure as her sperm filled the adventurer’s ass. This was the way of the Orcs: unless you were chief, you didn’t earn the privilege of coming in a pussy. You had to swallow your pride or use the ass.   “Bitch!” Aza screamed in anger and humiliation.   “Is it the custom of Redguards to insult their mates?”   “Only those who do stupid shit.”   “Oh, there, there, princess…” Borgakh laughed, getting off her. She got between her sweaty, trembling thighs and proceeded to lick out all the come that was leaking out.   “Gross!” Aza muttered, bud didn’t push her away.   “It is custom that the woman eats the semen of her mate if they are not chief and one of his wives. No drop can go to waste.” Steel Heart wiped her lips, then rested exhausted next to her mate.   “I didn’t come.” Aza muttered offended.   “Let me catch my breath and I’ll show you things Orcs can do with their fangs.” The yellow eyes flickered.   ---   Labyrinthian. In the past known as the city of Bromjunaar, an ancient capital of Skyrim under dragon rule. Now, a massive complex of ruins and underground tombs. A legend among adventurers and the last place many ventured to. Beneath the snow and rubble were countless bodies clad in various types of armor, still clutching their weapons and shields.   It was only natural Erik would venture into the fabled ruin one day. He was disappointed the only foes he fought were frost trolls and the occasional draugr. He took care of them with little effort, slowly progressing through the ruins.   He reached Shalidor’s Maze, a labyrinth built by the legendary mage. He had a map copied from a tome he once found on the body of a necromancer. So far, the map seemed reliable. Still, he realized how naive he was expecting fat loot. The ruins were explored and plundered by generations of bold adventurers before him. Most of the gear he found worthy came from the bodies of those, who weren’t fortunate to get out with their lives. He exited the labyrinth after several hours of fighting mediocre enemies and gathering his humble spoils.   He found his mare and headed towards a small circular building that seemed intact. Good, a roof over his head was exactly what he needed. At the entrance was a slain troll, a huge female. It seemed the beast was killed by an edged weapon, which ruled out other trolls. That was enough to make him cautious. He entered the ruin with his axe handy.   Inside was what must have been some sort of spiritual shrine. There were tapestries and urns scattered around and an altar in the shape of a semicircle. The altar was the seat of nine busts that seemed to be lacking certain components. Helmets or masks, perhaps, but it was irrelevant at this point, as the hero noticed a shape sulking in the corner. It was a person, barely able to draw breath.   He approached with caution and turned the shape over with his boot. He knew that face. It was Mjoll. Quickly, he sheathed his axe and pressed his palm to the survivor’s neck. He felt a faint pulse, there was no time to waste. He picked the woman up and hauled back to his horse. With some luck, Morthal should be safe to come back to.   ---   The town was just like he remembered; damp and depressing. Thankfully, it seemed the residents were peacefully going on about their business. Mayhap it was because the vampires praying on them were no more. Yet, there was still the issue of the treasure that darkened the townsfolk’s hearts.   Mjoll was taken to Lami, the town’s alchemist. The Lioness was still unconscious whilst the woman was busy with the her wounds.   “There’s nothing more you can do.” Lami said, gently washing the Lioness with a cloth dampened in a freshly smelling tonic. “I’ll take care of her. My shop is not an inn, but you can stay here” she allowed.   “I can pay…”   “Please” the alchemist shook her head. “I hadn’t forgotten what you and your other friend did for us.”   “Oh…” he remembered the unpleasant circumstances that made him and the Redguard bitch leave Morthal. “So, how did it all turn out?”   Mjoll started to cry in her sleep. It was awkward seeing that fresh, robust woman weep like a child.   “It’s nothing.” Lami explained, gently caressing Mjoll’s scarred cheek. “I gave her a potion that put her in deep sleep. She’ll recover faster, but I can’t do anything about her dreams. You ask how it all turned out…” Her voice was now a whisper. “We were fools. The piles of gold and trinkets made us blind, we slowly started distrusting our neighbors, even out own families… Blood was bound to be spilled soon… And suddenly, it all vanished. The gold coins, the gems, the beautiful armors and weapons. All gone overnight. All that was left was clay and stone.”   “Divines preserve us.” Erik said with amazement.   “I’m not sure whether it was the vampires’ plan all along; too offer us fake treasure and watch how we rip out throats out. Or maybe it was the Jarl and that Falion wizard…” She gazed out of the window over at the marshes. “Whatever it was, we’re safe now. We endured, there are some animosities left. I only hope the people of Morthal are now wiser…”   “I’m sorry.”   “For what? You can’t protect us from greed and foolishness.” The woman smiled tiredly. Her hair was so blond, that it was almost white. “You are welcome here for a couple of days, free of charge. I’m not a cook, so you should get your food over at the inn. For now, I ask that you leave, as… Mjoll, was it? She needs rest.”   Erik left the quiet alchemy shop and wandered the town, mostly keeping to its outskirts. Soon, he was approached by a guard.   “Is there a problem?” He asked cautiously.   “The Jarl wishes to speak to you.” The guard replied.   “Am I arrested?”   “No. The Jarl wants to have a word with you.” The man was growing tired. “But I wouldn’t keep her waiting if I were you.”   “Alright, I’ll go to the longhouse right away.” Erik gave in.   He headed there immediately. Just like he remembered, Jarl Ravencrone had jet-black hair despite being an elder. Her hawk-like face was focused and alert, one would almost expect her to suddenly snap and bite.   “I see you’re still alive. And alone.” She proclaimed in a hoarse tone so characteristic for her.   “Nothing hides from you, my Jarl.” He replied, clenching his teeth.   “Don’t sweet talk to me, boy.” She scolded. “I offer my help, yet again. I am not doing this out of my own initiative. It’s the visions I’ve been blessed with, that are telling me to aid you.”   For a longer moment she was silent, scrutinizing the adventurer with her otherworldly ayes. Erik bravely endured her gaze.   “Go home.” The Jarl suddenly said. “That is all.” She waved him off, before he could say anything.   Dumbfounded at what just happened, Erik left the longhouse. It was late in the evening, he should get back to Lami before she closes shop.   “She’s awake.” The alchemist greeted, busy with a fresh batch of potions. “I think she needs company now.”   “I’ll go see her.” He replied, heading towards the stairs.   The room was filled with the smell of medicine. Mjoll rested comfortably on a simple bed, the sheets reaching all the way to her cleavage. Next to her bed was her sword, Grimsever.   “So, it really was you who saved my life.” She said quietly, putting away an emptied bowl. Judging from the smell it must have been chicken soup.   “You were almost a goner.” He said, pulling up a chair next to the bed.   “Yes, it was one of the toughest fights of my life.” Mjoll admitted. She stared down at her bandaged forearms. Potions and salves Lami used did wonders, but the warrioress was still recovering. “Aerin…”   A few tears fell on the sheets, her athletic shoulders shook as sobs took over. Though it wasn’t any of his business, Erik felt compelled to do something. He pulled his arm over her shoulder and pulled her closer. The Lioness broke down crying full volume. He said nothing, words were just empty gestures at this point.   “He insisted I leave Riften. I… I agreed, that city didn’t need my help, but I was too stubborn to realize sooner. He wanted to come with me. I was reluctant, but he was stubborn as well… So we left together.” She whimpered, wetting his armored jacket. “We spend some time together. We did a few noble deeds, just like in my old days… There were rough times, but we pulled through. And…” She paused to blow her nose in a piece of cloth he offered. “Then I got the stupid idea to raid Labyrinthian. He… His…” She pulled herself together and looked Erik straight in the eye. “A troll alpha female, a huge one, bit his head off. If it weren’t for him, it would have been me.” She paused. She didn’t sob or weep anymore, last tears silently rolled down her cheeks.   “Mjoll…”   “I went berserk. Killed the matriarch, the rest scattered in all directions. I was wounded badly, but I managed to… take care of the body. I’d never let them eat what was left of him. I had only enough strength to crawl away to a quiet, roofed ruin. Then everything got blurry and I lost track of time.”   “I’m sorry.”   “Not as much as I am. Aerin saved my life twice. He was always there for me, and all I did was treat him like a friend. He’s dead now, buried under rocks and ice.”   “It’s not your fault.”   “I know. But I’d feel better if it was. Because then I could blame someone.” She blew her nose. “I regret never sleeping with him. Can you imagine?” She snapped, her eyes opened wide. “He was the most important person in my life, but I kept him at a safe distance using the ‘friend’ excuse. I know I can be… difficult. I didn’t want to hurt him. And instead I got him killed. I’m an idiot!” She groaned, then coughed. “I’m a dumb cunt.”   Erik bowed his head. He sympathized with her, but meaningless words were all he could offer.   “Thank you.” She said with sorrow. “I guess.”   “You’re welcome. I guess.”   “It’s just you now?”   “Yeah.” He jerked the corners of his mouth upward. Mjoll needn’t know. This was about her, not him. “Just me.”   “I…” The Lioness was about to comfort him, but changed her mind. “I need company tonight. Badly.”   “You sure?”   “Lami is a miracle worker. My bones are whole, my wounds closed up. I can’t strain myself, but…” She fell silent, seeing him undress. Gods, that was a fine body.   He slipped under the pleasantly soft sheets and helped her undress. The light was dim, but his hands liked what they touched. Her mouth was slightly bitter from the medicine, but eager. Her tongue encircled his, then grinded against his palate. She had small breasts with a slight sag. The skin was wonderfully soft, her nipples a bit thicker than normal. She sighed when she felt his teeth and tongue working them to full erection.   Erik reached down her flat stomach, feeling her pussy was covered in a rich, silky bush. He found her slit between the golden locks and stroked until the lips moistened and parted, allowing his fingers to slip inside her overheating vagina. He also poked her asshole, her cheeks squeezed hard in response. Her hairs soon got wet and sticky.   “That’s…!” She held her breath as his cock bumped against her leg.   “Mine. Relax, I got this.” He said patiently, working his fingers inside her pussy, loosening her up good.   “I don’t want to wait anymore.” She bit her lip as two fingers slipped inside her.   “No problem. Just lay back and enjoy.”   Mjoll supported herself on her elbows, Erik got a firm grip on her hips and pulled down to meet with his hard penis. He didn’t expect her to moan so softly. She smoothly took the whole shaft in, pleased to be filled to the brim. He went easy on her, occasionally bending forward to taste her lips or bite her nipple. She rocked her hips, her pussy hungered for a man, it was a long time since someone fucked her this deep. She reached forward and held him in a tight clutch, scratching his back like a cat in heat. He knew well what that meant.   She came crying out a name. It wasn’t his, but he paid it no mind. The soles of her feet kicked his calves when the Lioness’ mind melted and slipped away. Erik gave her time to relish and regain her senses, before jerking-off until he came all over her abdomen. His seed streamed into her navel, some sunk into the golden bush.   They didn’t talk, it would only spoil the mood. He helped her clean herself up and get dressed, then let her rest. She fell asleep almost instantly. The bed was too small for the two of them, so he got down on a bedroll Lami provided. He made up his mind of what to do now.   In the morning he left quietly without disturbing Mjoll, insisted Lami accepts payment for housing him, and left Morthal, heading south-west, to Rorikstead.

Chapter 14 - Between a Rock and Certain Death

Excella pushed the canvas flap aside and crawled into the tent, mindful not to put out the small lantern she was carrying.   “Don’t you know how to light up the mood.” Aza joked, shifting on the furs to make room for her surprise guest.   Carefully, the harlot placed the lantern in a corner, then scuttled to lay at the adventurer’s side. Naturally, as if they were lovers for years, she melted into Aza’s embrace. “Rough day?” She asked, resting her cheek on the adventurer’s abundant chest.   “Rough life.” Aza muttered, pulling Excella’s soothing warmth closer. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”   “People say my presence makes them comfortable. But please don’t get too relaxed just yet. I was hoping the two of us could have some fun. Would you like that?” She asked with a smirk, her thumb running the length of Aza’s lower lip.   “Very.”   Excella had the softest, pillowiest lips Aza had ever tasted. She kissed fine – enthusiastically and yet slowly, enough to conjure a low moan from the back of the adventurer’s throat. Was Aza surprised when the harlot got on top of her and reached to help her undress, not so subtly pausing to squeeze her tits? Hardly. The thing that did surprise her though, was a small hard nub she felt in Excella’s mouth when they kissed.   “Tongue piercing?” She guessed, rising her arms, so that Excella could pull her nightshirt over her head.   The harlot didn’t bother with words, instead sticking out her tongue to show the adventurer that yes indeed, she had a small golden stud piercing through her tongue.   “Nice.” Aza summed up amused, helping Excella unlace her dress and slowly pulling it down to reveal the woman’s soft, curvaceous figure. “Damn, even nicer.” She exclaimed, seeing that Excella also had golden rings piercing her nipples. Kinky.   “I put them on just for you.” She said sweetly, tilting her head to the side, letting the other woman ogle her freely. “Skyrim is normally so cold, that I didn’t bother. My nipples were constantly standing at full attention.” She said with a whimsical smile, encircling both areolas with her fingertips, before gently pulling on the golden rings for emphasis.   “Ha! I’m flattered, truly.” Aza chuckled as she sat up with Excella still straddled over her. Wrapping her arms around the woman she bowed her head to trail kisses down her neck and chest until she was giving the pierced nipples cautious nips. The flavor of scented body oil and sweat mixed on her tongue. Goods, she missed the touch and taste of her kinswomen.   “Go harder…” Excella purred with her eyes closed, gripping Aza’s shoulders and practically smothering the adventurer with her chest.   “I’m gonna!” Aza protested from between the unbelievably ample tits.   “Mmm, yesss… Just like that.” Excella softly exhaled, running her nails down Aza’s toned back. “Ooh… now the other one. Good, a little harder… Ah! Too hard!”   Aza grunted, annoyed by being the one ordered around, kneading Excella’s bouncy ass, whilst her tongue danced between one tit and the other. The harlot giggled, arching her back, her head tilted backwards, exposing her neck for Aza to bite unexpectedly.   “Let me fish you out of the rest of this dress so we can get to business.” The adventurer swore.   The dress was surprisingly easy to slip out of. Or perhaps it was the oils Excella was covered in? Gods, she was so soft and smooth, her skin glistened in the faint light of the lantern like a rare treat. Aza could spend the entire night just wrapped around Excella, caressing her and taking in her presence like a chaste lover. But despite appreciating and admiring every inch of Excella, she wanted to enjoy her in a more carnal way.   “You’re smiling!” Excella sing-sang, as the adventurer slowly guided her to lay down and kneeled between her bent legs. “You look good when you smile. You should do that more often.”   Aza snorted awkwardly, looking away for a moment to regain face. Ah, fuck it. She was allowing herself to be happy for a second, who cared? She peered into the woman’s golden eyes, sliding her hands all the way down the oiled-up breasts and stomach, pausing just below Excella’s navel. The harlot smirked, slowly removing her hands, up to now protectively covering her pussy. Aza looked down and her jaw dropped.   “Morhwa’s fat titties…” She whispered in awe, stunned by the sight laid down before her.   That was the most beautiful cunt she had ever seen. A smooth, soft mound with plump, delicate lips just beckoning to be licked and sucked. The pearl of the clit was shily peeking from under its hood, throbbing with excitement. A small tuft of the silkiest hairs possible perfectly framed the entire picture.   “Like what you see?” Excella smirked confidently, proud of making such an impression on the adventurer. “I once made a man cry and beg for my hand with just the sight of my pussy. Granted, he spent months in the desert without a woman, so he might have been exaggerating.”    “You’re perfect.” Aza exclaimed, bending forward to take in the sweet, feminine scent of Excella.   The first lick she gave was cautious, more a way to slowly get acquainted with the taste and feel of this divine pussy. Her flat tongue slid the length of the lips without parting them, pausing only to grind flat and hard against the perky clit.   “Ah… Aza.” Excella moaned and the very sound of her own name in the harlot’s mouth sent lightning up Aza’s abdomen. “Your tongue… so good.”   Aza dug her nails into Excella’s thighs, going lower, lapping away at the woman’s silken lips, impatiently rubbing her sweating thighs together. Excella’s fingers twisted into her hair, pushing her head closer, soaking her face in sweet, sleek wetness.   “Mmm… yes, now my turn.” Excella’s calm voice pulled the adventurer back to reality after a few munities of her blissfully licking and sucking.   “What?” Aza looked up, mouth and chin soaked in pussy, apparently too cunt-drunk to register what was being said to her.   “Your turn. Lay down please.” Excella repeated patiently, wiping off her own juices from the corner of Aza’s mouth.   “You sure? You don’t want to come first?”   “I’m good. Now stop being difficult. Unless you don’t want to feel my pierced tongue on your clit?” The harlot rose her shapely brow.   Aza practically threw herself on the furs spread-eagle, twat-first at the other woman’s face. No, she wouldn’t miss this opportunity for anything. Excella stifled a laugh, quickly adjusted her position, flinging her long braid over her shoulder so it wouldn’t get in the way.   The harlot had the unique talent of knowing what people wanted and giving it to them in the most pleasurable way. She knew Aza needed a little bit of comfort in an easy lover’s arms, just enough to forget about the past few days, and to have the strength to go on for just a few more. She also knew the adventurer would not settle for just gentle kisses and soft moans. Once or twice Excella caught a glimpse of Erik’s cock outlined under his pants. If her suspicions were correct, Aza was a true size queen. This was going to be fun!   “S-straight to the point?” Aza stuttered as Excella pushed both her thumbs inside, stretching the adventurer’s slit wide open.   “Yes. You’re so wet and needy by now, that I am afraid you might come from foreplay alone.” She teased.   “That’s mean!”   “You want me to be mean to you.” Excella said confidently.   Aza opened her mouth to protest, but she closed it before she could say a lie. Yeah, she actually wouldn’t mind this cheeky beauty bullying her a bit. Within reason.   She bit into the side of her palm as the golden stud encircled her twitching clit whilst Excella’s thumbs pushed in and out of her. She exhaled a loud breath when the soft lips sealed around her hood, sucking hard at the sensitive pearl. Truly, Excella had talent! Aza was so excited, that her juices leaked freely from within, slicking her thighs and behind. Yes, this is exactly what Excella wanted.   “Easy now.” The harlot purred, pulling her thumbs out. Instead, she gently ran the fingertips of her one hand the length of Aza’s drenched mound, generously coating them in slippery dews. “Yes, this should be enough… Relax and let me handle you.”   Could she stick her fingers in any slower? Aza arched her back, jaws still closed on her own palm. She mewled, spread by four sleek fingers, three knuckles deep. Her hips bucked against them, pushing down on Excella’s palm, wrapping her hot cunt around her hand, just before the thumb. Excella looked up to meet with Aza’s mismatched eyes, smiled mischievously and began thrusting, sealing her lips around the adventurer’s clit.   The heroine cursed, covering her mouth all too late. She trashed when the crafty harlot curved just the tips of her fingers finding that tender sweet-spot. Unbothered by this dramatic display, Excella kept her attention on shallowly fisting Aza’s pussy, giving the adventurer a warning swat on the thigh with her other hand.   “Tall Papa’s hairy balls, yes!” The grizzled warrioress mewled, cupping the back of the other woman’s head. “You’re amazing, keep going. Yes, yes, yesyesyes!!”   Lazily (but keeping up the steady pace of her palm pumping in an out of Aza’s thoroughly drenched snatch), Excella peeled her velvety lips from the swollen clitoris. Her golden eyes twinkled, her mouth glimmered with slick wetness.   “Do you want me to let you come?” She asked sweetly, causing tears to pour into the corners of the adventurer’s eyes.   “Uh-huh!” The other could only stutter.   “Are you sure? You don’t seem convinced.”   Cheeky little thing!   “Please!” Aza grunted hoarsely, bare and completely defenseless in dear Excella’s gentle grasp. “You make me feel so good! Let me come, pleeease, I need it so baaad!”   Excella curved her thumb under her palm and pushed deeper, burying herself wrist-deep, forcing a half-surprised-half-ecstatic cry from Aza. The adventurer came instantly, her pussy tightly gripping and pulsing around Excella. She covered her mouth or she would risk screaming and alerting the entire camp. Rocking her hips into that slender hand, she rode out her orgasm until the only thing she could do was lay flat and numb, crying, and sweating.   “Mmm… you look so blissful.” Excella cooed with affection, pulling out with a wet pop. She licked her hand clean, gently rubbing the adventurer’s perspiring stomach, gazing at her handiwork with pride.   “You’re… truly…” Aza struggled to find the right words for what she was feeling.   “You can just say thank you”. Excella laughed, laying at her side, wrapping her arms around Aza for another embrace.   “Thank you. That was amazing.” Aza panted, showering her guest’s face and neck with soft kisses. “Just give me a second to catch my breath and I’ll be right with you.” She promised, though Excella knew the exhausted adventurer would be sleeping in her arms in just a few moments. She didn’t mind, though. Perhaps they could have a rematch in the morning?   ---   Blackness filled the endless void around her. Somewhere in the distance a horse screamed in fear and pain, like it was dying. And it probably was. Aza panted, sticky from blood and sweat. Yet she pressed on, traversing the darkness. The weight of the person she was carrying was starting to wear her down, but she refused to let them go. And although she desperately wanted, she couldn’t look down to see who she was carrying in her arms. She could only push forward.   Wisps of grey smoke swirled around her, filling her lungs with the smell of burning wood and slaughter. She halted, certain that something terrifying and dangerous was lurking in the blackness just a few steps ahead of her.   Wings, leathery and red, stretched in front of her while a deep, inhuman voice called out above her.   Dovahkiin.   Aza gasped, bucking wildly on the furs, throwing the cape off herself and her nightly companion. Sitting up, she clutched her chest, breathing fast through her nose. Clarity came to her gradually as the beating of her heart slowed down. A dream. It was only a dream.   “What’s going on?” Excella asked, rising on her elbow, half-asleep. “Everything alright?”   “I had a bad dream. Sorry.” Aza muttered, rubbing her burning face. “Don’t worry about it and go back to sleep. I need a walk.” She assured the concerned harlot, reaching to cover Excella back with the cape.   The woman muttered a soft ‘goodnight’, rolling to her side. Aza sighed, flung on some clothes and crawled out of the stuffy tent into the cool night. She stretched, muttered a quiet curse and briskly walked across the campsite. She should check up on her horse, the trek with Erik on its back must have almost completely exhausted the poor thing.   To her silent dismay Kemon and one of his scouts were attending to the horses. The head of the caravan gave the scout quick instructions in an hushed, urgent tone. The other man nodded, swiftly mounted his horse and rode off, leaving the two alone.   Aza said nothing, approaching her paint mare. The animal neighed weakly at her approach, parting from its bay sister and trotting up to greet her. Aza stroked the mare’s warm, dry nose, whispering a few meaningless words of comfort.     “You’re up.” She noted as Kemon approached, trying to ignore the quiet pain in the horse’s eyes.   “I needed to make sure no more assassins are following us.” He explained, gazing at the direction his scout departed. Deep shadows under his eyes deepened in those few days.   “Do you ever sleep?” She asked stepping away from the mare to focus on her former partner.   “There’s too much at stake for me to earn a peaceful rest.” Kemon crossed his arms, somehow managing to not look like a man who barely slept at all.   “You won’t do anyone any good if you collapse from exhaustion.” Aza noted casually, realizing this was going to end in a confrontation. “You keep your head high, but you’re a mess.”   “You seem to be holding yourself together just fine.” He pointed out before he could think. “Enough to lose yourself in Excella’s arms tonight after almost losing your partner the day before.”   “I could be bawling my eyes out. But what good would come of it? None. At the end of the day, if everyone is alive and I have all my limbs intact, then I’m good. So, I’d rather enjoy every precious moment whenever I can.”   “Some would say that’s… irresponsible.” He measured his words carefully.   “They mostly say I’m a slut. And I don’t mind” She shrugged.   “That’s not what I meant.” Quickly, Kemon rose his hands to apologize.   “I know. But why dance around the subject? I’m not hiding who I am. Why bother?” She said casually.   “You were always so… honest with what made you happy. But I don’t remember you ever being this…” he paused to find the correct word “upfront.”   “It’s been over ten years. I changed. I had to if I wanted to stay sane.” She tensed, waiting for him to ask the dreaded question.   “That makes at least one of us.” Kemon said bitterly. “What…?”   “What happened that night when we got separated?” Aza interrupted. Yeah, she might as well tell him every obvious thing he wanted to know and have it over with. “Exactly what you think. I survived. Lost sight in my right eye, but I was alive. A caravan shipping weapons found me and saved my life. I entertained them in exchange. Picked up some fun tricks.” She grinned, but it wasn’t a happy smile. “Don’t give me that look, I did much worse since them. They dropped me off in Hegathe. It took me weeks to get to Sentinel, but I finally arrived. I searched for days, asked around for a man and a little girl. No one could tell me a thing. I finally convinced myself that you got on a ship and sailed to Gods know where. But all that time you were working your hands to the bone at the docks while Zia was fighting illness in the temple under Saabi’s care. Right under my nose.” She grunted, angrily kicking a rock.   Kemon remained silent, but his posture and the heartbroken look on his face spoke volumes. Aza hated when people gave her that look, but was somewhat glad he was still able to show any emotion other than grim determination.   “But I think it’s good that I didn’t find you.” She continued, calming down with some difficulty. “I came to Sentinel a changed woman. Angry. I was not someone you needed in your lives.” She shook her head sadly. “You needed someone kinder and better than me. Someone like Saabi.” She paused to look away for a moment, she didn’t want him to see her lose control over her own face and voice. “I left Hammerfell behind. Wandered the world for years with no goal bigger than the next drink or fuck. I had some fun. Sometimes I got unlucky, but that’s life. But hey, at least we both finally got closure, right?” She grinned, silently begging for the conversation to end now and there.   “It pains me to see how that night changed you.” Kemon whispered horrified and his tone, though genuine, was enough to set her off.   “Oh, stop it!” Aza lashed out, taking a step towards him, but halting just in time. “I’ve been through much worse since that night in the desert. But I always kept going. I endured. My pain is mine alone, not for you to feel sorry for me! I still love life and I’m not afraid to face another day! Maybe I became a slut with a drinking problem and an itchy fist, but I’m not a cold asshole who can only snarl at people!”   “I suffered as well!” He struck back, rising his arms to the indifferent night sky. “It was I who decided we took that damned route, remember? Our entire caravan got wiped out because of me. Zia sometimes still wakes up from bad dreams, crying and shaking. True, I became hard. A small price to pay if I can make sure no one dies under my watch.”   Aza rose her hand, then lowered it, clenching both hands into tight fists. She wanted to say something, but talking was suddenly too exhausting. The last two days were more for her to handle than the past decade. She remembered the old, long gone Kemon. Patient, kind and understanding. Bit of a pushover, but always meaning well and always putting his loved ones first.   “You’ve changed too. You’re an asshole.” She finally spoke without a trace of emotion, hunching her shoulders. She was too tired to be angry anymore or fall into despair. She just wanted all this to be over with so she could finally put the past to rest and be on her way. There was nothing more to talk about, so she should change the subject. “Erik is in no condition to put up with you for the rest of the journey. He can stick to riding in the back with Abdal, I’ll ride with you up front.”   “Saabi and I agreed that it is best Zia stays close to me for the rest of the trip. I want to keep my eye on her in case she decides to do something foolish again.” Kemon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t talk smart to you.”   “Well… shit.”   ---   Zia was fucked. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than riding with her father on one horse with the crazy woman in parallel to them on her sadly neighing paint neg. And yet, here they were, the three of them in grim silence. Even the hyena accompanying them dared not make a sound.   “Papa…” She dared risk, looking over her shoulder to read Kemon’s face. Despite his stern expression, she decided to prod. “My back hurts, can I ride on the wagon with mama?”   “Oh, so Saabi is your mother now that it’s convenient?” Her father reprimanded, eyes locked at the path ahead of them. “Did you apologize to her?”   “Not yet…”   “Then you stay with me until you do. Sincerely.”   “It’s going to be alright honey.” Aza cut in, her voice uncharacteristically warm. “This will all be over soon.”   “I don’t need you defending me!” Zia snapped, turning to shoot the adventurer a glare.   “I was talking to the horse.” Aza rebutted in her more natural, unpleasant tone, staring straight ahead and gently patting the apathetic mare on the neck.   Zia bit her tongue. This was hopeless, she just had to soldier on.   “I don’t like us having to take this pass. It might be relatively unknown, but it’s too narrow for my liking.” Kemon commented, staring up at the craggy mountain peaks stretching from both sides. “If something would happen, then we’re going to be trapped here. And your partner said we’ll be descending dangerously close to an Imperial fort. Greenwall, was it? I don’t like the idea of brushing with the Legion.”   “That’s what you have your scouts for, yeah?” Aza reminded, pulling out her map for study, despite having their route burned into her memory by now. “If we run into any surprises down the road they’ll report back to you just in time to head back. Besides” she turned to give him a morbid grin. “How much worse can it get?” She laughed unpleasantly.   “Are you a gambling woman?” He wondered.   “Never picked up the habit, no.”   “Then let’s keep it that way and not tempt fate.”   “Fate…” Aza grunted, agitated by the word like it was some obscenity. “To Oblivion with it.”   ---   “Are you sure?” Abdal checked, offering his travel companion a flask full of still hot black coffee.   “No, I’m good. I guess it’s not the drink for me.” Erik shook his head. Despite flushing out all the poison from his body, the very thought of coffee made his gut churn. Now, a good ale or mead would be just the thing. Alas, the terrain was tough and he needed his wits about him. Besides, the caravan ran out of spirits some time ago.   Abdal shrug his shoulders taking a hefty gulp from the flask, exhaling with pleasure as if the drink was the finest rum. “Glad I’m not the one riding in the front.” He noted, pointing his chin at the head of the caravan. “I would not want to be in Kemon’s daughter’s shoes right now.”   “Mhm.”   “Kemon can keep people at a distance, even those closest to him, but he’s always putting others before himself.” Abdal assured.   “I’m sure.” Erik kept his tone dispassionate. Kemon and his family life were not topics he wanted to get into.     “Have I told you I was once a bandit?” The man said nonchalantly, instantly gaining his companion’s attention.   “You?” Erik straightened up in his saddle, staring at Abdal incredulously. “You have to be joking!”   “I swear on Tall Papa’s heavy, hairy balls!” Abdal swore, rising his hand like he were cradling his god’s invisible sack. “I grew up on Stros M’kai. It’s a beautiful, but terribly small island. Too small for my liking. I was a young man with a problem with authority and wanderlust. As soon as I grew my first chin hairs I boarded a ship and sailed for the continent. I met some unsavory types and joined a small band in the Alik’r. Nothing big, just a rag-tag group of idiots with enough nerve and numbers to hit small caravans and usually get them to surrender the goods without a fight. Which was the way I liked it.”   “So, how did you become the respectable man you are today?” Erik asked, his curiosity peaked.   “I was hoping you’d ask that.” The man laughed, glad he was getting some attention. “Our boss decided we should expand our horizons and start hitting bigger marks.”   “Kemon’s caravan.”   “Exactly. Like I said, we were a rag-tag group of young idiots… We got obliterated. Kemon would have our heads decorating spikes along the trade route as a warning, but Saabi intervened. I guess seeing us smooth-faced and snot-nosed whelps trembling on our knees made her feel sorry for our asses.”   “I can believe she got Kemon to spare the lives of juvenile bandits, but how did you end up from trying to rob them to running their security?”   “I fell on my knees and begged they let me go with them.” Abdal reminisced, taking another gulp of coffee. “Don’t ask me why, after all these years I’m still not sure why I did that. Kemon stared me down, grunted, then told me to drop my weapon and stick to the back. It was tough…” He sighed hoarsely at the very memory. “He had me doing all the nastiest, dirtiest jobs available. I reeked of camels and sweat. After a year, he had me moved from errand boy to scout. Eventually, I proved my worth and loyalty and he had me join his guards. I became head of security shortly before we left Hammerfell. Don’t laugh, but that was the happiest moment of my life.” He smiled with pride.   “Why are you telling me this?” Erik asked cautiously. People never shared such personal stories without a damned good reason.   “There were times I was thinking of slipping away and leaving the caravan.” Abdal went on, seemingly ignoring the question. “Especially after a particularly grueling day, cleaning hooves or brushing the animals. Ever got pissed on by camel? Not fun. But over the years those people became my family. What I’m saying is that Kemon can be an arsehole. He takes some getting used to. But I’d gladly give my life for him. In a way, I think he and your lady friend are very similar.”   “What?” Erik blinked confused.   “They both act like they don’t get attached to people and only protect them out of obligation or for pay. But they care. A lot.” Abdal explained patiently. “They just can’t afford having to deal with loss… Ah, look at me, getting all profound!” The Redguard laughed, waving his hand as if wanting to dispel the somber aura. “Have I ever told you the joke about a sailor and slutty Nereid? No? Great! There was once a salty old sailor…”   ---   The caravan made their last stop before descending the mountain. No tents were erected, only one cooking fire was lit. The plan was to await for nightfall and slip past fort Greenwall in the dark, hopefully avoiding the Imperials attention.   “And the moons are full tonight.” Kemon grunted, staring at the slowly darkening sky. “Gods preserve us.”   The formation was simple. Erik in the back, alone. Abdal in the middle having a watchful eye on Saabi, along with her sister. Aza in the very front with Kemon. And despite everyone’s protest, the man absolutely refused to part with his daughter.   As soon as the sun set he gave his final orders. With no lights and the horses’ hooves muffled with cloth the caravan carefully and slowly navigated the narrow mountain pass only to be halted by a courier approaching quickly from the rear.   “Stormcloaks are on our tail.” The scout reported. “My guess is they’re planning to assault the Imperial fort. We need to pick up the pace or they’ll catch up to us.”   “How many?” Kemon colorlessly asked, staring tensely at the back end of the caravan, as if expecting to see Ulfric’s skirmishers any second.   “Enough to pose a threat to the Imperials. And to outnumber our own men at least three to one.” The scout summed up.   Aza gripped her reins harder, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. They were in the way of an approaching battle. Not a guerilla-style skirmish but a full-fledged assault.   “Papa…” Zia whispered apprehensively, spotting the second courier approaching from the front.   “Imperials.” The other scout reported. “I don’t know why, but they’re mobilizing. I-”   “Stormcloaks are approaching form our rear to attack the Imperial Fort.” Kemon said louder than necessary, his voice echoed by the rocky sides of the passage. “We’re as good as dead if we stay on their path. Everyone!” He stood up in his saddle, his voice commanding and confident, despite the dire situation. “We’re going to slip past both of them, so they can slaughter each other however they please! Stay calm and follow my lead.”   His eyes met with Aza’s. She nodded, kicking her horse’s sides. In absolute silence the caravan descended the treacherous path down the mountain, entering a birch forest, so characteristic for the Rift. Were it not the impending threat of death, the still woods could feel serene.   Zia breathed loudly through her nose. She covered her mouth to suffocate a quiet whimper. Was it just her, or did she really hear someone approach? Her father pulled the reins, his horse taking a sharp turn to the west. Merciful Tall Papa, make them be alright!   ---   Erik needn’t strain his ears to pick up every word from Kemon’s mouth, the acoustics we’re so good in the narrow pass, that he could hear as if the man was standing right next to him.   “Shit.” He whispered under his breath, as they passed the first slim birches. “Okay, girl.” He spoke to his horse, reaching to the side of his saddle to retrieve his crossbow. “We got this.”   He tensed and swallowed, hearing the faint sound of disturbed rocks rolling down the path behind him, no farther than you could throw one.   “Get fucked Ulfric. You and the bear you rode on.” He whispered, ignoring his spine tingling.   Just as he was about to look over his shoulder (and possibly put a bolt into someone’s face) the forest thundered with battle-cries from both sides, as both the Stormcloaks and Imperials simultaneously decided it was time to attack. The ground shook, arrows flew, horses screamed. Erik’s mare rose on her back legs, throwing her rider off. She ran off in a blind panic into the woods.   Erik hit the ground, his crossbow slipping from his grip. Thankfully he had enough brains to immediately roll to the side instead of searching for it, pressing his back against a tree trunk. Stormcloaks, at least fifty of them, passed him, yelling and tramping the leafy grass. And when they passed, he finally noticed his crossbow in the grass, stomped into tiny bits, damaged beyond repair.   “Alright.” He grunted bitterly, reaching for the axe on his back. “Guess I’ll have to do this the old fashioned way.”   ---   Arrows flew from all directions. Screaming, both animal and human, proving some of them found their marks. One of them being Kemon’s horse. The poor beast neighed, wildly bucking from fear and pain. Zia, too terrified to even peep, gripped the saddle, holding on for dear life. Papa’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her sharply to the side. The girl fell off the horse, her father shielding her from hitting the ground with his own body.   Kemon’s horse fell to its side next to them with a gut-churning thud. But the ground didn’t stop shaking, people and horses running through the forest; some to escape, some to kill.   “Get up.” Papa hoarsely ordered, pulling Zia up by the shoulder. “Stay close to me.”   Someone approached, dazed by the dark and battle. They had the characteristic reddish light armor of the Legion. Without thinking, Kemon reached for his mace. The weapon rose and fell, crushing the face of an Imperial. Thank merciful gods, they had a helmet on, so Zia couldn’t see their face before looking away.   Someone else wandered too close, this time dressed in blue, the hyena instantly jumping on them, going straight for the throat. The poor bastard’s surprised scream cut short .   The crazy woman yelled a curse, steel cut the air. The paint mare neighed sharply. Another nameless someone cried out in pain and fell to the ground motionless.   “What are you waiting for?!” She yelled, dragging her horse by the reins, glaring madly at Kemon, her cheek glistening with fresh blood. “Go! Save her!”    “I can’t leave my people!” Papa protested. But he also couldn’t leave his daughter. “Saabi and Kazi!”   “I’ll find them!” Aza swore, handling him the reins and something about the quick glance she gave Zia sent white-hot daggers through the girls heart.   With a blood-curdling shriek the woman ran straight into the fray.   ---   Saabi and Kazi’s wagon stood toppled over to its side. There was no horse, the beast probably tore free from its reins and ran off. Dodging an incoming kinsman Erik took a powerful swing, nearly slipping on the blood soaked grass. Letting his instincts guide him, he spun around, his axe biting into the Stormcloak’s side. He didn’t have time for a proper send-off, kicking the kinsman away, letting him die without his presence.   He approached the side of the wagon. First, he heard sobbing. Then, he saw a flash of steel and instinctively stepped back avoiding his throat getting slit.   “It’s me!” He assured the frightened Saabi, who despite being terrified out of her mind stood between him and her cowering sister.   “Thank the Gods!” The woman wept, withdrawing her herbalist knife. “I-I’m glad I didn’t have to…”   “Where’s Abdal?” Erik asked.   Saabi stepped away, revealing her sister kneeling next to the man. Or rather his still, body.   “They ran him through the chest, his lungs… We managed to drag him to safety but we were too late, there was nothing I could do.” She said, fighting away tears.   Erik gripped his axe tighter. They were stuck in the very center of the battle and there was no chance of sneaking away. It was kill or be killed.   “I’ll hold them off for as long as I can.” He calmly said, bracing for possibly one of the toughest fights of his life. “Stay here. Whatever you do, don’t leave this spot. You… you really don’t want to see what I’m about to do.”   With that, he walked to the other side of the wagon, ready for anything, feeling the familiar cold focus wash over him.   ---   Excella passed her along with the other harlots, escorted by few of Kemon’s men. Aza shouted at them, pointing to where they could find Kemon and possibly safety. She had no time to explain further, running past them, ignoring the bard.   “You’re going the wrong way! That’s where there’s the most of ‘em!” Talsgar called out in vain.   Aza didn’t care. Dodging both those clad in red and blue armors, her only focus was on finding that distinct, brightly colored wagon.   “Dear Ysmir, if I’m indeed your incarnation, do me a solid and make sure Erik is alright!” She thought and as soon as those thoughts formed in her mind she saw him; swinging his gruesome axe like a man possessed, fending off any who dared come too close to Saabi and Kazi’s overturned wagon.   Whispering a quick thanks, Aza dashed forward, managing to get between him and an approaching Imperial just in time to deflect a blow that would otherwise hit Erik’s back.   “Come on!” She taunted the Legionnaire, dancing around them with her dripping swords ready for their next move.   The Imperial soldier took a step forward, ready to slash her with their dual shortswords. Unexpectedly, they were hit from behind by a Stormcloak soldier armed with a shield and war axe, the weapon now plunged into the Imperial’s skull. The Stormcloak pulled the Legionnaire off his axe with a kick. He and Aza stared each other down. This was neither the time nor place to ask ‘friend or foe’. Aza couldn’t take any chances.   She struck without warning, not giving her foe the time to react. He dodged, regaining his balance effortlessly. Aza braced, parrying his counterattack. She could have sworn his fighting style was somehow familiar… The Stormcloak played it safe, maneuvering to get some distance form her. That was his mistake; Aza dashed forward, dodging his swing and rolling on the bloody ground to get behind him. She spun around, kicking off the ground, both her swords shooting forward, lodging in his chest.   Their eyes met. It was dark, and he wore a helmet, but still she could make out how blue they were in the moonlight. The look in them betrayed shock, then something else… Pain, regret? No, it was recognition. Wait… No! By the gods, she knew those eyes!   “Ralof…” She whispered as the light faded in the Stormcloak’s gaze. “Gods, I’m sorry…”   Without a word, Gerdur’s brother fell to his knees, silently sliding off Aza’s swords. There, he laid on his side exhaling his last ragged breath, foamy blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. Aza fell to her knees, sharp pain radiating from her side. She looked down only to see Ralof’s war axe cutting into her side, just above her hip. He got her. Fair.   Dazed, she looked around. The damned Imperials and Stormcloaks just kept coming! Erik was doing his best to fight them off, while Saabi And Kazi whimpered somewhere on the other side of the wagon.   “Erik…!” She called out weakly, deciding to do something drastic while she still had fight in her.   He reacted to her voice instantly, pulling his axe from another sorry fool’s forehead, turning to meet her in a few quick steps   “You’re hurt!” He realized, immediately snapping back to normal self.   “I’ll be fine. Just… help me up.”   With some effort the two braced their backs against the underside of the wagon. They panted, dripping blood and sweat. Still, the fight showed no sign of dying down.   “There’s too many of them.” Erik took her by the shoulders, the look on his sweaty, grimy face determined. “I can still take a few. Grab Saabi and Kazi and get out of here!”   “I don’t think I can walk.” She grunted, cradling her wound. “But I can Shout. Just keep me from falling over and I’ll do my best.”   Erik’s brows rose. But this was a life or death situation and people counted on them. He nodded, taking her under his arm for support, mindful not to do her any more harm.   Ignoring her surroundings, Aza took a long, deep breath, conjuring all her willpower to form the Words she needed.   “YOL TOOR SHUL!” She Shouted, her Thu’um shooting from between her lips in a blazing stream of fire, igniting the dry, ruddy treetops and the nearest foes, lighting up the birch forest like a Giant’s bonfire.   What ensured was chaos. Those unfortunate enough to be caught in the direct path of the fire ran into the night like human torches, screaming from the top of their lungs. Both sides scampered in terror of what just happened, running as far as they could from the center of the fiery blast.   Somewhere in the dark a war horn sounded, signaling the Stormcloaks to retreat. Those who could walk evacuated, carrying their injured brethren. In a matter of minutes, they we’re gone back up the mountain, leaving behind the dead and scattered weapons.   Which left the caravan with the Imperial threat. Somewhere in the distance Kemon whistled and yelled, rallying anyone nearby and still standing to gather. A few minutes later he and most of his guards reached the wagon wreckage. He was bleeding profusely from a cut where his left eye used to be. Saabi and Kazi crawled from the overturned wreck for a teary reunion. The group formed into a tight circle with the sparse remaining guards at the outer ring, their swords and shields drawn and ready.   Despite the surprise attack and their losses, the Imperials quickly regained their formation. Orders and sharp, metallic sounds of metal war horns echoed through the forest. And then they fell into disarray again as another group unexpectedly arrived from the south.   “No…” Kemon whispered, making out from between the burning trees the outlines of characteristic greenish-gray armor. “Tall Papa, please, anything but this…”   Screaming bloody murder a party of Orcs, clashed against the Imperial army. The earth shuddered as their leader, a warrior fully clad in orcish armor and wielding a huge warhammer, swung their weapon, sending several Imperials flying. The chief’s footmen followed, cutting down the remaining Imperials like young trees. Archers, hidden somewhere beyond view, finished off the remaining opposition. The fight was over in a matter of minutes with the Orcs sustaining zero casualties.   “Papa…” Zia cried, hugging Kemon’s site with all her strength. “We have to run!”   But there was nowhere to run. The entire caravan was trapped between the retreating Imperials and the Orcs.   “Boss! There’s more of them!!” One of the skirmisher’s called out. “But they ain’t the reds or blues!”   “Go with the throat-cutters and finish off any reds. Ogol, Lob, you come with me. I want to see for myself.” The leader yelled back. It was a confident, commanding female voice Aza knew all too well.   “Don’t let any of them get close!” Kemon ordered, pulling Zia and Saabi aside, then reaching for his mace.   Aza had to think and act fast, and most importantly, she had to do something before Kemon orders his men to attack and more lives get lost.   “BORGAKH!” She yelled from the top of her lungs, putting whatever was remaining of her strength to push in front of the caravan, despite her limbs going numb. “BORGAKH, IT’S ME!!!”   “Aza!” Erik called out, elbowing people to be one step behind his partner.   “It’s fine, I know her.” Aza assured, gesturing at everyone to remain in place. “Nobody do anything brash.”   The ground shook as the Orcs approached, their weapons lowered. Aza wiped the sweat from her brow, focusing her vision on the familiar silhouette. The orcish leader stepped forward, meeting the Redguard halfway in just a few quick steps. Saying nothing, the Orc took off their helmet, revealing a familiar female face. Borgakh the Steel Heart.   “I meet you in strange places.” Borgakh spoke, focusing her gaze on Aza’s ashen face, then on her partner and finally on the tightly-packed caravanners. “You’ve been busy since we went our separate ways.”   “Y-yeah.” Aza stuttered, leaning on Erik (who was too stubborn to listen and stay back) suddenly feeling cold and lightheaded. She was weak, too weak for it to be mere exhaustion. Her cape felt heavy and unpleasantly sticky. No wonder, as it was soaked with blood pouring from her side, right where Ralof’s war axe had hit her. This wasn’t a mere scratch. She was hemorrhaging.   “You’re injured.” The orc woman noted.   “No shit.” Aza hissed, thankful for Erik taking all her weight on himself. “Borgakh… fuck… These people, they’re with me… they need help. Shit, I need help… I-I think I’m gonna…”   Aza lost her voice as well as consciousness, falling into Erik’s arms. The hero’s eye’s met with Borgak’s.   “We have a healer with us, but she’s lost a lot of blood.” His voice shook, as he scooped his partner up in his arms. “If we stay here she’s done for.”    “Boss, the throat-cutters are done. What now?” The same skirmisher asked, but dared not approach. “If we stay here we might have to deal with reinforcements.”   Borgahk peered back into Erik’s eyes, pondered for a second, then nodded.   “Alright, listen up!” Steel Heart addressed her brethren, raising unconscious Aza’s arm. “I declare this woman as blood-kin!” She sharply turned to address the caravan. “Who gives orders around here?”   “I do!” Kemon stepped forward, leaving his petrified daughter in Saabi’s arms. “You will address me, Orc.”   “Gather your survivors and come with us.” Borgakh ordered, putting her helmet back on.   “To where?” Kemon asked, too desperate to feel any more fear or distrust. Despite his hatred for orcish kind, he knew that they were all as good as dead if he does not cooperate.   “Largashbur.”

Chapter 11 - Smoke on the Water

“Piss off.” Aza warned the hyena sniffing her mare all to intently. “She’s going to get better, she’s not for you to eat, scavenger. Go find your grub somewhere else.”   The animal tilted its head, but seeing the heroine’s stern look it whined and scuttled away.   “It’s okay, honey.” Aza tried to comfort the horse, but the mare was indifferent, passively allowing to be led by the reins. Thankfully, she started eating, so there was hope for swift recovery.   It’s been three days since they left their cozy camp at the hot springs. She almost forgot how slow large caravans could move. Were it just the two of them, they would be in the Rift by now. She was doing her best to avoid anyone who wasn’t Erik, Kemon or Abdal. The shock and pain seemed to finally ease and she was able to think clearly. They had to get the caravan safely to its destination, keep her identity a secret, get paid. Then, she and Erik can depart for another glorious adventure.   “Hey, lady!” A girl’s sharp voice called. Aza grinded her tongue against her palate, like she wanted to shove all the curses she knew back into her throat.   “Yea?” She asked, looking up.   Zia was leaning out of the back of a wagon she occupied along with Kazi and Saabi. Her nose, so similar to Aza’s, crinkled.   “Don’t start shit with my pet!” She warned, giving the heroine the stinkeye.   “Then put a leash on her and we won’t have a problem.” Aza sneered, hoping her unpleasant disposition discourages the girl from a longer conversation. “This isn’t her turf. A sabre cat could have a field day with her.”   “She can take care of herself!” Zia assured with confidence.   “Without her pack? Suuure…” The heroine doubted, surprised she could keep her voice from shaking. Then again, arguing came naturally to her.   “Whatever, hyena lady.” Zia rolled her eyes with a fake yawn brats do when trying to provoke an adult.   Aza jerked the corner of her mouth upward. Little shit. She had an attitude… Good. Glad Kemon’s overprotectiveness hadn’t raised her to be a sheltered goose. Or perhaps it was Saabi’s influence?   “Hey? Hey! I’m talking to you!” Zia’s impatient tone commanded she snaps back to reality.   “What now?” Aza sighed in a half-tired-half-annoyed tone she picked up when dealing with Erik.   “Are you from the Alik’r?” The girl asked, pillowing her face in her hands.   “I am. And what of it?” Aza said truthfully, realizing the brat wanted some entertainment. She didn’t blame her, life on the road could get boring. Especially when you’re the only teen surrounded by adults.   “Ha! I knew it!” Zia said, proud of herself for guessing right. “So, you’re far away from home too?”   “I’m not.” Aza replied, careful not to give away too much information. “The world is my home.”   “So, you’re a vagrant.” The girl teased with a smug look.   “That’s one way to put it.”   “Have you been all around Tamriel?”   “Most of it.”   “Like where?” Zia pried, growing frustrated with the woman’s uncooperativeness.   “Here and there.”   “Don’t bullshit! Come on, tell me!”    “Language!” Saabi commanded from the front of the wagon, not bothering with looking over her shoulder. “I did not raise a savage!”   Aza sighed, feeling a hole in her chest. Yes, exactly, it was Saabi who raised the girl, not her. She only gave her a chance to have a normal, happy life.   “This is bullshit!” Zia complained quietly, hoping her (adoptive) mother wouldn’t hear. “This is all bullshit! I didn’t want to come here in the first place, but no one listened to me!”   “Mhm. Tough luck.” The adventurer clucked her tongue, undisturbed by the girl’s outburst.   “Ugh… It’s so unfair!”   “And what are you going to do about it?” Aza inquired.   “I… well…” The girl wanted to say something smart, but somehow she couldn’t find the right words.   “Haha, got you.”   Annoyed, the girl stuck out her tongue, and turned her back to the adventurer. Obviously, she was a feisty type, frustrated things were happening around her, but without her involvement.   Aza smirked at the childish display. Seeing Zia’s haughty attitude helped dull her pain. But in the back of her mind was the realization that her child was in danger… again. They were running from an unknown threat, which Kemon refused to disclose. Somewhere on the horizon was their destination. And she was going to get them to it safely. Even if it kills her.    Unhurriedly, she reached for an apple she had stashed in her satchel. She took a bite, then offered the fruit to her horse. The mare took the treat with a quiet, yet pleased nicker.   “Good to see you’re getting better.” Aza noted with relief, brushing the horse’s mane. “It must have been the loneliness that was eating you, right? I left you alone in that cold stable for so long… I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” She promised.   To the heroine’s dismay, Saabi suddenly jumped off the wagon and joined her.   “Can we walk together?” She proposed, stretching.   “Sure.” The adventurer agreed, blandly. She really wanted to be alone with her horse for now.   “Thank you, I am so fed up with waiting and… hiding.” Saabi sighed wearily. “You have no idea how happy I am to be out in the sun. And so is Kazi… I hope my daughter is not bothering you? She’s… at a difficult age. ”   “I can imagine she’s more than a handful now.”   “Kemon and I are doing our best, but I can feel she’ll soon want to make a name for herself.”   Aza bit her tongue. Damn brats and their need to venture out into the world.   “She’s lucky to have you.” She said with difficulty, hoping her tone remains casual.   “Yes… I did miss her these months we were apart. But… it was necessary that I accompany my sister. I hope to make it up to Zia once we reach our destination. Oh, I can only Imagine how frustrated you must feel.” She pointed out unexpectedly.   “With what?” Aza asked, tensing. How much did Saabi know, exactly?   “The secrecy. I can tell you’re a smart woman, you can see our logistics appear a bit… chaotic.”   “You might say that.”   “Can you trust?” Saabi asked.   “You’re joking, right?” Aza choked and cackled unpleasantly. Trust? In her profession trust was a commodity!   “Oh, you can try to hide it all you want, but I can tell you have a good heart!” She exclaimed, putting her hand on Aza’s pauldron. “Please, trust my husband. He is a good, caring man at heart, despite his cold demeanor.”   “Yeah, sure.”   ---   “So, how much do you know?” Kemon asked nonchalantly, peering into the sizzling vista of Eastmarch.   “About what? The caravan? Not much, you’re pretty secretive.” Erik played dumb. “I’m not pushing, but I think it would be in your best interest to share with us as much as possible. Oh well… as long as I get paid in the end, I’m satisfied.”   “Please, no games. What do you know about… her.” Kemon’s usually measured tone was hollow.   “Enough.” Erik replied emotionlessly. “She told me everything, even the most gruesome parts. The rest is in the past. She’s with me now and we’re going to get you through this. And then we’ll be on our way.”   Kemon sighed. He hadn’t suspected such… hardiness from this local when he employed him in Solitude.     “I apologize for my past attitude. But you must realize that we already have problems and I don’t want to further complicate things by involving my family in matters that should have stayed buried beneath the sands all those years ago.”   “What a colorful way to put it…” Erik snarked. “You know, I could argue with you for hours, but I’ll leave that to Aza. She’ll chew you up and spit you out.”   They continued their ride in silence. Suddenly, one of the scouts came running towards them, visibly distressed.   “We have a situation.” He panted, pointing ahead of them. “Stormcloak scouting party.”   “Were you seen?” Kemon asked sharply.   “Yes. They’re heading our way. What are your orders?”   “How many?” The Redguard inquired, tensing.   “Three plus their captain. All on horseback. We can take them, but…”   “It’s the Stormcloaks we’re talking about. Tightly knit bunch. They immediately know if one of theirs is missing.” Erik warned. “Let me talk to them.” He pleaded, hoping the rebels will be less militant seeing a kinsman.   Kemon gave the order to halt, ready for anything. A group of four horsemen rode to meet them, carrying the tattered banner of Ulfric Stormcloak.    “Who are you and what business do you have crossing Eastmarch?” A man wearing a bear pelt over his armor, no doubt the captain, asked.   Kemon tensed. Erik had to think fast.   “Special delivery to Fort Dawnguard!” He said quickly, before the Redguard could do something abrupt. “Isran, our leader, is feeling homesick. So, we’re delivering him a little slice of home. If you catch my meaning.” He said with a wink.   The bearskin-clad man took a look at the back of the caravan. He noticed a large group of colorfully dressed Redguard women, chatting and laughing. It was obvious they weren’t merchants.   “You’re escorting Redguard… prostitutes to the Dawnguard? I thought vampire hunters were less… sociable.” He inquired incredulously.   “I’m sorry, when was the last time a vampire slaughtered your kin?” Erik asked sharply.   “What?! Never!” The Stomrcloak replied, outraged by such an outlandish question.   “Exactly. You’re welcome.” The hero said with a sly grin. “You know, it’s not that easy to get people to join our cause. Fighting vampires does tend to get you… killed. Or severely mangled. So, we thought we should offer our members a bit of… incentive. I don’t know about you, but after clearing out a vampire den I wouldn’t mind someone giving me a bit of warmth and comfort to make me feel alive again!”   The rebels chattered amongst themselves. What they just heard made sense. Because what sane person would willingly fight creatures as foul as vampires without the promise of a bit of gratitude in return?   “Sir, how do we know if they’re not smuggling weapons for the Legion?” One of the rebels unexpectedly asked.   “Shut up idiot!” The captain barked at his subordinate. “Why would Redguards support the Empire? Hammerfell succeeded, remember? By the way, how is that working out for you?” He addressed Kemon with genuine curiosity.   “Good.” Kemon replied, keeping his guard up. “The elves are still trying to get us to bend our knee to them, but so far we’ve managed to keep them at bay.”   “I hope their blood seeps into your lands!” The captain bid, raising his clenched fist. With disgust, Kemon noticed the Stormcloak had a gruesome necklace composed of elf ears strung around his neck.   “So do I.” He agreed drily.   “Move along.” The captain allowed. “And give my regards to the Dawnguard.” He said, addressing his kinsman. He then whistled sharply and the Stormcloaks galloped past the caravan, on their way to Windhelm.   “Phew! Am I glad I kept my Dawnguard armor!” Erik exhaled loudly, glancing at Kemon. “I hope Isran never hears of this.” He laughed nervously. “Fun guy. Very… solemn. Dedicated to his work like no other. You’d like him.”   ---   “We’re almost there.” Kemon noted, studying his map.   “Right” Erik agreed, eager to get off his horse. “Darkwater Crossing should be just pass this curve… By the Nine.” The hero’s voice sunk, as they saw smoke rising above the tree tops.   The scout rushed back to them. The look on his face said it all. Erik gave Kemon a quick look and took off without a word towards the settlement. He gasped horrified, seeing the smoldering ruins and bodies of both Stormcloaks and Imperials. He jumped off his horse and began searching through the bodies, hoping Derkeethus wouldn’t be amongst the dead.   What happened? The war, obviously, but what triggered this attack? Who struck first? And what happened to the people? That Stormcloak party… They weren’t scouts, they were skirmishers. Of course, after Riften became Imperial, the boarder between the Rift and Eastmarch was bound to become a hotspot of guerilla warfare.   He couldn’t find the Argonian’s body amongst the casualties, but he did uncover a Dunmer in blood-soaked miner clothes. The elf’s head was smashed open and was missing an ear. Shaking his head, he briskly walked to the edge of the settlement, towards the river bank, hoping to find his friend there. Once there he nearly tripped over the trampled body of an elderly Nord, but no Derkeethus.   “Shit!” Erik cursed helplessly, kicking a rock into the water.   He was just about to lose all hope, when he noticed bubbles emerging from under the surface, in a spot where the water was colored vibrant red. The water stirred, then a reptilian snout carefully emerged, followed by the head of the Argonian miner.   “Is it safe?” He asked, his yellow eyes wide with fear.   “They’re gone.” Erik assured.   Relieved, Derkeethus emerged onto the shore, only to collapse into Erik’s arms; an arrow sticking out of his back.   “Stendarr’s mercy, no!” The hero cried, resting the Argonian on his side. Quickly, he pulled out the arrow and retrieved a small healing potion he had stashed in his satchel. “Come on, Derkeethus, stay with me!” He ordered, supporting the miner’s back and carefully pouring the potion into his mouth. The Argonian gagged, but obediently drank the concoction.   “How are you feeling?” Erik asked, unsure if the fact that the Argonian felt cold was a good or bad sign.   “I… It’s getting dark…” Deerkethus heaved a sigh.   “No, don’t you dare! Come on, you survived the Falmer, what’s a tinny arrow prick compared to them?”   The miner exposed his pointy teeth in a pained smile. He needed a real healer, not just some quick pick me up to keep him from bleeding out. Erik knew he was loosing him. He had to act fast, and he needed help. Quickly, he picked Derkeethus up and whistled at his horse to follow whilst he carried him back to the caravan.   ---   “What’s going on over there?” Saabi pondered, seeing Kemon give the order to halt.   “I’m not sure.” Aza said cautiously, holding her hand on the hilt of one of her swords, but not unsheathing it… yet. Her gut told her something was wrong. “Oh, shit…” She whispered, noticing smoke.   She swiftly jumped on the wagon to get a better look, but the trees were obstructing the view. She could smell the familiar stench of a burned-down settlement.   “Healer, now!” Erik called out, appearing from behind the curve, carrying a wounded Argonian in his arms.   “Bring him here!” Saabi called back, her voice strong and calm. “Kazi, pass me my instruments. Zia, pass me that pelt.”     Quickly, the three women prepared a makeshift bedding on the road, just in time for Erik to lay Derkeethus on it.   “What going on?” Aza asked her partier, jumping off the wagon. “Does it have something to do with the Stormcloak party that passed us a few hours ago?”   “I don’t know.” Erik replied, peering into the Argonian’s unconscious face. “But Aza… they’re dead. Everyone. It was…”   “My scouts report no soldiers in sight.” Kemon stated, joining them and making a gesture at Abdal to replace him at the head of the caravan. “But I we cannot stay here for long.” He said frustrated, pinching the bridge of his nose.   “Please, I need to concentrate.” Saabi requested, raising her palms above the wounded miner’s motionless body. But instead of using magic or herbs she started… singing.   “Well I’ll be.” Aza whistled.   “What is she doing?” Erik asked with uncertainty, but did not interfere, sensing something… mystical was beginning to happen.   “Just watch.”   Saabi carried a tune, her hands moved up and down above the Argonian, whilst her fingers danced in the air. The air around the group became… energized. Like just before the storm. Whatever was happening… was working. Deerkethus heaved, moaned and opened his eyes. His pale tongue slipped back into his mouth. Saabi kept singing in a strange language, then closed her palms above his face and retreated, falling into Kemon’s arms.   “There…” She gasped, pleased.   “My friend…” The miner panted, noticing Erik. “You saved me once again…”   “Don’t thank me.” Erik dismissed, pointing at Saabi, who was slowly regaining her composure, but still needed to hold onto her husband. “What happened?”   The Argonian looked around, seeing a large group of Redguard travelers peering intently into his eyes. He swallowed loudly, not wanting to relive the recent horror in front of all these strangers. Seeing him hesitate, Kemon helped Saabi up the wagon and ordered Abdal to take over. The four walked towards the river, away from earshot.   “I… I was back from a fishing trip when it happened.” Derkeethus began, shaking his head. “They attacked without warning… The Stormcloaks. By the Hist, Verner… they cut him down first. And then Sondras…”   “Why?” Erik asked disturbed.   “Maven Black-Briar.” The miner hissed bitterly. “Ever since she became Jarl, she has been rooting out the Stormcloaks and their sympathizers from the Rift. And they retaliated.”   “Figures.” Aza grunted, kicking a rock. “Maven and Ulfric… These two will keep running their turf war no matter what happens to their lands.”   “Tension has been brewing ever since Fort Greenwall became an Imperial garrison…” The Argonian recalled. “Maven even went as far as to install Imperial guards in our village, despite this being Eastmarch. She wanted our corundum for the Legion. And she wanted to make a statement.”   “And Ulfric got provoked.” Erik concluded   “And the common folk suffered.” Kemon summed up.   “This won’t end here.” Derkeethus foretold, bristling his scales. “I… I need to find my friends. Last thing I saw before getting an arrow in my back were Anneke and Tormir escaping with Hrefna. Anneke has a daughter in Shor’s Stone, they must have headed there.”   “Do you know anything more about the situation in the Rift?” Kemon inquired, rubbing his chin. “We need to head south.”   “We were just a town of miners. We kept to ourselves and hoped the war does not affect us… until now.” Derkeethus explained. “I… I should really get going.”   He took a look at the smoke coming from his burned down village. For a moment he wondered if he could salvage any of his belongings from the rubble, but decided he didn’t want to go back and see his friends’ massacred bodies again. A wayward tear escaped the corner of his eye. Or perhaps some water was caught under his scales?   “Can your friend keep a secret?” Kemon addressed the hero calmly, but his tone hid a threat.   “Derkeethus… we were never here, right?” Erik said carefreely, hoping the Argonian catches up.   “No. Never. I came to on the shore, patched myself up and then hiked to Shor’s Stone. Who even are you people?” The miner assured in the same untroubled tone.   “Go to my man Abdal before you depart. He can give you a weapon and some provisions.” Kemon offered.   “I thank you.” The Argonian expressed, turning his head away from the unpleasant view. “Stay safe, my friend.” He addressed the hero, shaking his head with sincere gratitude.   With that, he was gone, leaving the three with a new problem.   “What do you think?” Aza asked her partner, studying her map.   “I think it’s about time we get out of Skyrim.” He replied with a grimace, pulling out his own map, trying to forget about the slaughtered miners. “We can go here.” He traced his finger in a straight line alongside the sheet. “We pass Mistwatch, then climb this path up to the Rift, there’s a convenient ravine between the mountains, I used it once or twice. We can descend just past Shor’s Stone.”   “We’d be close to Fort Greenwall…” Aza warned. “But… we can sneak past the Imperials in the night. Then we cross Treva river and head west, avoid Haemar’s Shame and we should be good.”   “Then we continue west, dodge Helgen, pass the mountains to the south… and we’ll be in Cyrodiil.” Erik summed up, folding his map.   “That sounds like a plan.” Kemon agreed without a word of protest. “But… let me send out scouts first. I… we can’t afford any mistakes at this point. We’ve come too far.” He insisted.   “Then let’s make camp off the main road while you’re at it.” The hero insisted, looking up at the darkening sky. “If we cross the bridge and stray west we can stay hidden by the pines. If we head out now we should make camp before nightfall. ”   ---   The camp was dark, only one small bonfire was lit, to reduce any chance of detection. Kemon paced across the campsite, waiting for his scouts to return. Damned Nords and their war! As if he hadn’t enough things to worry about, now he needed to keep a lookout for rebel and imperialist skirmishers! Damn it all!   “Papa… are we stranded again?” Zia pestered, clutching his sleeve and forcing to halt.   “No, of course not.” Kemon assured. “We just need to make a brief stop until the scouts get back and report.   “There’s a war in Skyrim, right? I saw smoke when we were passing the bridge. I heard those two sellswords talk… And I could smell… death.” The girl shrugged, her blue eyes darkened.   “Nothing you need to worry about.” He dismissed.. “The Nords and their war are none of our problems. We’re fine.”   “Papa… I’m not stupid.” Zia frowned, letting go of his sleeve. “I… I wish you wouldn’t treat me like a child.” The girl said quietly.   “My joy…” The man bowed his head. “I promise, after this is over, I will make it up to you. But you must understand, lives are at stake. And they’re all depending on me. Please, endure just a bit longer.”   She looked at him so hurt, with fists clenched so tight. Her lower lip trembled, but she sucked it in. Shaking her head, she crossed her arms, hoping to look as indifferent as possible.    “Sure… whatever.” She scoffed.   She then stomped off to the edge of the camp where the trees were the thickest, hoping for some solitude, but it seemed someone was already occupying the spot.   “I thought I got used to seeing dead bodies, but…” A voice said, then there was a gulp, like when someone takes a large swig of strong drink. It was that red-haired adventurer.   “But those were simple, honest people attacked in their own home.” Another voice spoke gravely. It was that mercenary woman. She also took a large gulp, they were probably sharing a bottle. “Shit, I feel partially responsible…”   “Why? Because you suggested Maven takes over as Jarl? Don’t be stupid. It’s not your fault she wanted to pick up a fight with Ulfric.” He assured with confidence. “Did you know her daughter wanted to sleep with me?” He suddenly shifted his tone to half-boastful, half-embarrassed.   “Ingun? Bullshit!”   “True story!” He swore. “I got her some alchemical supplies; dried poisonous flowers. And she was suddenly all over me. Said she wanted to… test out some potions with me.”   “Did you…?” She held her breath with anticipation, genuinely curious.   “Are you kidding? I’m pretty sure she just wanted me as a live test subject! And even if she really did intend to sleep with me, I’m not stupid. Her mother would send the Dark Brotherhood after me! But Ingun wouldn’t take no for an answer… I think that runs in their family. I had to jump out of the window of the Bee and Barb, then run through the city with my gear on my back and no pants on. I was lucky it was dark!”     They both laughed. Then there was a longer pause, interrupted only by the sound of a bottle being passed on.   “You’re thinking about home, aren’t you?” The woman guessed.   “Yes. I just remembered you also proposed Thongvor Silver-Blood became Jarl of Markarth. Huge Ulfric supporter, that one… If the fighting spirals out of control in the west as well, Rorikstead will be a prime target with its large food supply,” he paused to clear his throat and took another chug. “But I don’t think that will happen… anytime soon. Thongvor would have to carve his way through the Forsworn first if he’d want to get to Rorikstead. And he’d have to be crazy to go up against them with General Tullius lurking up north, waiting for any excuse to attack.”   “Mhm. Good luck with that.” She snarled. “Well, at least there are no more dragons to worry about.”   “Yeah, at least we took care of that little problem!” The man laughed.   What were they talking about? Putting aside the lewd parts of the exchange, who were those people that they could propose who became jarl and claimed to rid Skyrim of dragons? Were they drunk, or was there more to them than met the eye?   “So… Kemon gave us the night off.” The woman noted. “Do you want to… forget about all this and just focus on us?”   “And what are you proposing, exactly?” He inquired, enthusiastically.   “Good drink and good pussy.”   “That was our last bottle. We’re dry. But I could use some good pussy… Do you know any? Ow!” He yelped in pain.   “Idiot!” She hissed. “Come here…” She added, in a surprisingly warm tone.   Zia fought the urge to gag and retreated before she could hear or see something she didn’t want to. Quickly, she joined the harlots at the only small bonfire Kemon permitted to light. The bard was amongst them, but given how cautious the caravan needed to be, he was not playing his lute. Instead, he entertained them with a bit of conversation.   “Love?” Excella laughed, pouring the bard a drink. “A warrior as legendary as your Dragonborn is love?”   “Aye!” The bard swore with fire. “Love! Love for us, mortals! For what else would motivate the gods to send the Dragonborn to our aid, if not love?”   “I cannot imagine a dragonslayer of Nord legend being a lover.” The harlot teased, motioning closer.   “Not just a dragonslayer!” Talsgar protested. “Dovahkiin is our protector! A true hero, who rises in times of great strife. The one who protects us from evil.” “Even if that evil comes from our fellow men?” Excella asked, her voice losing that familiar playful tone.   “I… I wish I could give you an answer, friend.” The bard sighed, also falling into a dark mood. “You know, I ventured out of the Bard’s College for that very reason. To learn about the life and struggles of the common people during these times. About their small victories and dreams… I know well my songs will not be sang in courts or even the lowliest of inns… But it gives me comfort seeing how humanity’s spirit never gives up, even in such dire times…”   “Oh. I…” Excella was at a loss of words. So she decided to act. She leaned forward and took the bard by the chin, then planted a quick kiss on his lips. “You have a beautiful heart, my friend.”   “Ah, you flatter me.” Talsgar looked away, blushing like a lad. “I was hoping to find the Dragonborn during my travels.”   “Well, did you?”   “No. Not yet, at least. Their trail got cold in Whiterun. I have no idea where our hero is now. No one even knows who they are. Some say they’re a Nord, some say Dunmer. I even heard people say the Dragonborn is a Redguard. Regardless… I remain hopeful that one day our paths cross. I have so much questions to ask them!”   ---   Meanwhile, the Dragonborn was busy sucking cock. On her knees, with her ass braced against a tree, she worked Erik’s thickening shaft with eagerness like only a trusted partner could. She missed sliding her tongue around his perfectly pointed glans, then alongside the whole length; from the frenulum to the sack. She missed steadily jerking him off until she could feel first droplets of precum on her tongue. Damn, he smelled and tasted even better then she remembered. Too bad he hadn’t had the chance to groom his fiery pubes, which annoyingly tickled her nose.   “Ah… no one can do this the way you do.” He panted, pressing his palm and forehead against the trunk, whilst his other hand was patting the back of her head, combing through her hair.   Aza smirked, relaxing her throat and letting his length and girth slide past her tonsils, to the limits. Feeling mischievous, Erik cupped the back of her head and tilted slightly upward. He did a few quick, shallow thrusts, then kept going with more confidence and force. Aza gurgled and choked, but quickly regained composure and adjusted to his pace. Grabbing him by the ass, she forced him deeper, encouraging to give her a rough skullfuck. And he obliged, grabbing a handful of hair at the back of her neck, with his other hand reached down to wipe tears that streamed down her face.   She looked up at him through watery eyes, with saliva dripping from her mouth, generously coating his dick and pubes, lazily streaming down her chin. He loved seeing her like this; shameless, happy and stuffed with his cock.   “Next time we do this… can you wear make-up? I want to completely ruin it.” He pleaded, pulling out to playfully rub his tip against her cheek.   She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she stood up, coughed, caught her breath and scooped the drool off her chin, then flicked it off into the bushes.   “Mmm… I’ll think about it. Now, I’m off to bed.” She yawned, stretching.   “What?!”   “You’re welcome to join me.” She offered with a wink.   “Like this?” Erik grunted, gesturing at his proudly erect cock.   “Well… stuff it back in your pants.” Aza suggested, knowing well what a pain it would be to shove that monster back into his pants in this state.   “Hagraven!” He squirmed.   With a laugh, she was gone, leaving him to cool down. After a few minutes of thinking about literal hagravens, Erik felt flaccid enough to carefully put his pants back on. Breathing deeply and slowly, hoping his armored coat hides the uncomfortable bulge, he unhurriedly walked back to the camp. He was so preoccupied with looking as innocent as possible, that he hadn’t noticed when he bumped into Abdal.   “My friend!” The man greeted with a wide smile. “Come, join us!” He beckoned, gesturing at the small group of guards gathered around some game on a nearby carpet.   “Ah, I wish I could, but…” Erik tried to excuse himself politely.   “Don’t trouble yourself, we have sentinels on lookout. Come!”   “Abdal…” He said calmly, putting his hands on the man’s shoulders. “In my tent there’s a woman who wants me. And I have no idea when I will have another chance to be alone with her.”   “Say no more!” The guard said with a sincere laugh. “Life’s short and uncertain. We have to grab any shred of comfort we can get!”   ---   “Will you ever stop teasing me?” Erik complained, crawling into the tent.   “No.” Aza rebuffed, her good eye flickered. “You love it when I tease you.”   She was wearing only her gauntlets and boots, but her weapons were within arm’s reach. She smiled lustfully, resting on the furs.   “And what if someone attacks us this very moment?” Erik inquired, sitting next to her, unhurriedly taking his gauntlets off.   “I’ll grab my swords and face them naked!” She declared, clinging to him from behind, her hands wandering up and down his chest, trying to find the best way to undo the front of his reinforced coat.   “W… what are you doing?” He asked confused, when she cursed after insistently nudging him with her nose somewhere around the back of his ear.   “Stupid armor, I warned to bite you in the neck.” She complained, finally able to undo one of the fastenings   “Good luck! This is Dawnguard armor, it’s designed to protect me from getting bitten from behind!”   “Take it off…!” Aza ordered, pulling at the damned thing.   “Make an effort.” He taunted, leaning back on her.   Quickly, she wriggled away and got on top of him. Like a spoiled brat denied their favorite toy, she struggled with his armor, then quickly pulled his shirt up and undid his pants and underwear, pulling them down to his knees. She ran her tongue up his chest, savoring his flavor, then brutally shoved it in his mouth. With a pleased grunt, he grabbed her ass, groping her firm cheeks.   “You shaved?” He realized excitedly, when he slid his hands further down.   “The girls waxed me.”   “Did… did you leave…? You did!” He exclaimed with joy, after reaching down her crotch and finding the thin strip of hairs.   “And you’re still as hairy as you were in Windhelm.” She pouted.   “Well, I… I hadn’t had the time to take care of it.” He excused himself, embarrassed. “And I’m not sure exactly where I packed my shears.”   “Mhm.” She doubted, reaching down to direct his penis at her dripping opening.   “Please fuck my brains out” he pleaded, “and I promise to take care of it tomorrow.”   “You’re lucky you’re cute.” She grunted, lowering herself on the whole length, nice and slow.   She released a soft sigh, getting filled and stretched with his rod. Bending forward, she gave him another kiss, this time gentler. Slowly, she rocked her hips, sliding up and down his shaft, whilst he reached for her tits and gave them a rough squeeze.   “Just let me know when you’re close. I don’t want to risk.” She warned, tilting her head back and increasing the pace.   “We’re covered.” Erik assured, reaching up next to his head to nudge a knapsack he had with his personal belongings. The contents shifted and chimed, like only small glass bottles bumping against each other could. “Did you really think I got you only one contraceptive potion in Windhelm?” He laughed. “Oh no. We have a lot of catching up to do.” He smiled roguishly, folding his arms behind his head and energetically jerking his hips.   Aza giggled, shook her head, and increased her own pace. Their eyes met. Though neither of them uttered a word, they wanted to make the other come first, just for some lewd sense of satisfaction. The game was on! Aza squeezed him harder, slamming her ass hard against his pelvis, conjuring that distinctive sound of sweaty skin slapping against each other.   “You wished.” Erik grinned, grabbing her by the back of the neck and pulling lower, so that he could sink his teeth into her neck, thrusting with more effort.   “I missed that huge dick of yours.” She talked dirty into his ear, whilst her pelvis drew eight figures, so he could feel her pussy form all the different angles. “No one compares to you!”   He laughed, but could not deny she stroked his ego. He slipped his fingers in her mouth, Aza moistened them without a word of encouragement. He then reached for her clit, closing his thumb and index finger on the hood and rubbing the hard nub underneath. She gasped, then purred, bending back as much as the tent roof would allow her.   “Y… you got really good at this.” She panted, feeling how her body responded to his touch. Her vagina clenched harder, his veins teased her sensitive walls.   “Why, thank you!” He chuckled, still playing with her clit. “Feel free to come whenever you want. This isn’t a competition.”   “You talk like someone sure of their victory.” She grunted, bending forward again, shoving her tits in his face. “You got cocky.”   Although he tried to look as innocently as possible, the look he gave her when he slid his tongue between her breasts was nothing if not cocky.   The position was getting boring. Gently, he nudged her to get off him, then positioned her on all fours, with her face on the furs, and her ass in the air. Admiring her sweaty curves, he quickly ran his tongue around her wet hole, then slid it up to her cleft. The sensitive skin of her vulva felt great on his tongue without hair. Impatiently, she stuck her ass forward and wiggled, demanding his undivided attention.   Erik crossed his hands behind his back, and pushed his hips forward, merely brushing his glistening tip against her opening. Aza muttered a curse, retreating a few inches and powerfully slamming her behind against him; his entire penis slid inside with no effort, the glans hitting hard against her cervix. He gasped, nearly falling off if he hadn’t grabbed her by the hips in time.   “I’ll tie you up next time, I swear!” He promised, spanking her hard.   ---   Birds chirped as the sun rose over the already bustling campsite. The two woke up pleasantly intertwined and unpleasantly sticky from last night.   “I need a wash.” Aza complained, reaching to Erik’s knapsack for the contraceptive potion. With a heavy, but not unpleased sigh, she let out a large gush of cum from her worn-out pussy. As always, he came generously.   “Same.” He agreed, regretting he hadn’t had time to groom his pubes properly. “I could kill for some mead now.”   “Ugh… you filled me up good.” She muttered, putting the now empty bottle aside, ready to begrudgingly leave the tent and face another day.   “Really? Show me!” He requested cheerfully, reaching to spread her sticky lips and find out for himself.   Indeed, she was pleasantly flushed from last night, and still steadily leaking his seed. Gently, he ran his fingertips along her vulva, then slipped one inside. Feeling no resistance, he risked and inserted another. Slowly, he pushed them in and out, conjuring a soft coo from his partner.   “Come on, we have work to do…” She reminded, but somehow she just couldn’t get up and leave the safety of the tent. Defeated, she relaxed on her back to let Erik play with her for a bit longer.   “Just five more minutes.” He tempted, skillfully twisting his wrist and curling his fingers to tease her sweet spot. “Wow… I really did outdo myself last night!” He whistled, amazed by how much sperm he could still feel inside her.   “Ahem.” Abdal coughed outside of their tent to get their attention. “I hate to spoil your mood, my friends, but we have a situation. Kemon needs to see you. Now.” His tone, although polite and measured, betrayed something bad had happened.   The pair of adventurers hastily got dressed and crawled out of their tent, sensing a new problem on the horizon. They marched across the campsite to where Kemon was discussing something with his right hand man.   “What’s going on. What did your scouts find?” Aza addressed the man.   “It’s not about my scouts.” He replied, massaging his temples, fruitlessly trying to fight off yet another headache. “Excella… and that bard… they’re missing.”   “They must have slipped away in the night…” Abdal interjected, refraining from commenting on what would cause the two to separate from the camp. “Close to the river we found Excella’s scarf. And… some blood. I had my boys do some quick reconnaissance, we found her shoe near the bridge, like she was leaving us a trail. It seems hey were kidnapped. We believe they’ve been taken to that old imperial fort.”   “Mistwatch.” Erik guessed, looking over the trees. “An abandoned fort, off the main road… perfect for bandits to set up shop.”   Kemon said nothing, only gazed at the two adventurers. In his eyes was desperation. He had no men to spare on a rescue mission and was already stretched thin with his scouts out in the field.   “Tell you what…” Aza considered, calculating the odds. “You let the two of us handle tings from here… Give us one day to get them back. And if we won’t return by tomorrow morning, you go on ahead without us. We’ll catch up with you… or we won’t. But you won’t lose any more people. And if we do come back with the two of them safe and sound, you’ll cut us a small bonus after we get to Cyrodiil. What say you?”   “That sounds reasonable.” Kemon agreed. “Are there any supplies you need?”   “Well, now that you mention it…” Aza turned over to Erik and winked. “We need to prepare. Can your girls whip us out some good breakfast? And some spirits to take the edge off? Oh! And a spyglass.”

Chapter 13 - Another Scar

It was almost dawn. Kemon and Saabi peered into the dark woods in silence. Soon, there was rustling in the nearby bushes, someone was approaching fast. They braced for the inevitable confrontation but it was only the hyena that emerged from the shrubbery. She sniffed the air and something about the scent the two humans radiated told her it was better to scurry away to the back of camp. Kemon exhaled a heavy sigh, unconsciously reaching to take Saabi’s hand. She gave him a reassuring squeeze.   A few moments later Erik arrived, escorting Excella and the foolish bard. The pair exhaled, glad the harlot and bard were back safely, but this was still not who they were waiting for.   “Excella!” Kazi called out as the three approached the tight ring of people sitting around the fire. She got up as quickly as her pregnant belly allowed her and waddled towards the woman. “Are you alright? I was afraid we lost you!” She cried, embracing Excella like her own sister.   “I’m fine. Nothing I couldn’t handle.” The harlot assured casually, winking at the bard who was smart enough to melt into the crowd, avoiding Kemon’s ire. “Morhwa… I’m so sorry. I get stupid when I’m horny. And it was so long since I had any company…” She smiled apologetically, guilt and embarrassment washing over her seeing the effect the ordeal had on Kazi.   “You’re with us. That’s all that matters.” The pregnant woman assured, tears of relief glimmering in her eyes. “Just promise me you won’t slip away again. I don’t want to lose you.”   “I swear!” Excella promised sincerely. “Not for all the charming bards in all of Skyrim!”   Whilst the women exchanged their teary greetings and apologies, Kemon and Saabi approached Erik. The hero noticed that both had deep shadows under their eyes, a tell-tale sign of a sleepless night.   “It’s okay, we found your kid. She’s fine.” He assured before they could say anything. Kemon and Saabi shared a look and exhaled a joint sigh of relief. “They’re on their way. I’m going to pack our things so we can move out right away.” He excused himself, seeing the fury slowly building up in Kemon’s eyes, now that the danger had passed. He wanted no part at what was about to happen once Aza and Zia arrive.   “Habibi…” Saabi spoke gently, touching her husband’s hand once the hero was out of earshot. “We need to be calm about this.”   “Not this time, my light.” Her husband said gravely. “The time for leniency is over. Abdal!” He called out at his passing by right-hand man. “Make sure everything is ready for us to leave immediately after I had a word with my daughter!”   Minutes passed and they could hear movement again. Two people were approaching fast. Zia stomped out of the bushes, trying to look like she was not on the verge of tears. She froze, seeing her parents waiting for her. She took a step back, bumping into Aza’s chest. She looked over her shoulder locking eyes with the adventurer.   “Your problem.” Aza said drily, ignoring the panic in the girl’s eyes.   “What were you thinking?” Her father asked, barely able to control his tone. “No, you needn’t tell me, because I know you weren’t thinking at all.” His voice rose as he made a step towards her. Zia tensed, but she was trapped between him and the crazy woman.   “Papa…”   “I don’t want your excuses. What I want is for you to know that you put our lives in danger. Mine, your mother’s, your aunt’s. But most importantly yours. Whatever reasons you had were completely selfish. And I want you to remember that the next time you feel like acting like a complete fool.”   “I wanted to do something! I’m tired of feeling powerless!” Zia cried, shaking her clenched fists. “And her! She pulled a blade at me! She’s crazy!” She said, turning to point her accusatory finger at Aza.   The heroine ignored her, lifting her gaze to look at Kemon. She said nothing, knowing this was not her place to get involved. And yet she remained in place, being a passive participant in this little tragedy.   “As far as I’m concerned she saved your life.” Kemon rebutted unsympathetically. “And you disappoint me, yet again, by being an ungrateful brat.”   Aza grunted through clenched teeth, observing the man that was once her partner rain down his fury on their child. She knew she should just walk away, but she couldn’t. She hadn’t even noticed when Erik returned, standing just a pace away from her side.   “I packed our things.” He said quietly, gently placing his hand on her waist to steer her away from the unpleasant scene, thank the Gods she did not protest. “But I couldn’t find your cape anywhere.”   “Great. Just my luck.” Aza muttered tiredly, rubbing her blind eye.   “I think we shouldn’t continue this conversation now.” Saabi joined into the fray just as the adventurers were about to leave. “Please, whatever you two want to say now-”   “I wish I never left Hammerfell! I hate this place! And I hate you both so much! I wish I was dead in the desert, like my real mother!!!” Zia screamed through tears of anger and frustration, running to where the wagons were.   Aza’s heart stopped beating for a second. She held her breath in tight, fearing she would start screaming if she dared exhale. Her eyes met with Kemon’s. He looked so torn. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but no words came. She shook her head barely noticeably. This was the worst possible time and place to dwell on the past. They had to get moving.   “You two, get your horses ready. We leave in five minutes.” The man addressed the heroes, getting a grip of himself. “Saabi, check if they need your assistance and then join me. I… need you at my side.” With that, Kemon walked off briskly to find Abdal. Saabi was the only one remaining with the pair of adventurers. She took a deep breath and approached them, trying to crack a reassuring smile, but it was obvious she had little strength left.   “Are you alright? Do you need any healing?” She asked concerned, examining the dried red splashes on their armors, but it seemed all the blood was not theirs.   “We’re good.” Erik spoke before Aza could gather her thoughts. “Though if you feel like singing at us, I wouldn’t mind. You have a nice voice.”   “Ah! I’m glad you remain in good spirits, despite the circumstances!” She laughed, regaining some of her usual cheer. “I’m sorry for what you had to witness just now. But it is true what you heard… I don’t want to get into much detail, but Zia and I are not bound by blood and I am not her real mother.” She confessed, pain barely noticeable on her face.   “What are you talking about? You make sure she’s raised right, you feed and clothe her and you endure her childish tantrums. Of course you’re her mother.” Aza assured, feeling her heart ripped open. But she managed to keep her tone poised. She was so grateful for Saabi, but couldn’t say anything past that. She wasn’t even sure if she would be able to without breaking down.   “I… thank you. For all you’ve done for us.” Saabi smiled wearily, somewhat reassured by her words. “Now I need to get back to my husband.”   “Erik…” Aza said colorlessly once they were alone. “I am at my limits. I need you at my side anytime any of them is around, because I don’t trust myself anymore.”   “You got it!” He swore in all earnest.   “Thanks… Over there!” Aza suddenly snapped back to her usual self, pointing at a shape moving at the edge of camp. It was the blasted hyena, carrying her cape in her drooling maw. “My cape! Get back here bitch!” She yelled with fury, dashing to grab the animal. The hyena whined and made a run for it, disappearing behind some barrels.   “Let’s split up and rout her!” Erik called after her, knowing that way they’ll have a greater chance of catching the cape thief.   Aza grinded her teeth, following the hyena’s taunting giggle. If the beast ruins her cape she’s going to skin it alive and wear its pelt throughout the rest of this trip! Where was that little bitch?! Breathing heavily, she halted, realizing she was at the exact opposite edge of camp where the sleeping tents were erected just the night before, the smothered grass their only memento.   She heard rustling and saw movement with the corner of her eye. A figure emerged from the bushes; it was one of Kemon’s scouts, clad in the characteristic light Redguard traveler garb. They were probably coming back from a quick piss in the woods. They froze realizing they were being watched. Staring back at the heroine, their eyes caught the light of the nearby fires, reflecting it eerily like only Khajiit eyes could.   Kemon did not have any Khajiit scouts.   That was when Aza noticed a blade, a thin long dagger, clutched in the Khajiit’s palm. The cat glanced to the side, catching a glimpse of their mark; Kazi, walking unhurriedly back to the bonfire. The assassin stared back at the heroine, rolling their feline tongue out of their mouth in a taunting gesture. They bolted towards the unaware Kazi. Aza screeched, rushing after the cat, but she knew, she just knew it was of no use and there was nothing she could do herself.   The Gods seemed to smile upon her, as she saw her partner emerging from behind a wagon, still preoccupied with finding the cursed hyena. He noticed her and then the scout impostor running full speed towards his and Kazi’s direction.   “Erik!” Aza called out, still running, pointing at the Khajiit who was closing distance between them and Kazi in a matter of seconds. “Assassin!!”   Hearing the commotion, Kazi looked over her shoulder, instinctively covering her stomach. Her mild brown eyes widened, seeing the Khajiit running straight at her, their dagger completely black. She screamed, paralyzed by fear.   The eyes of the cat glowed ominously in the night. Erik remembered that glow from just a few nights before when he was keeping watch, staring into the volcanic tundra of Eastmarch. He cursed, grasping what was happening, springing as fast as he could to intercept the Khajiit, realizing that the cat was too swift for him to do anything other than act on impulse. Thankfully, he was quick enough to grab Kazi mere seconds before the assassin’s blade sunk into her chest, abruptly spinning her around and holding tight, shielding the woman with his own back.   The thin black blade hit one of the protective metal plates of his Dawnguard coat, the tip scraping down the plate and finding a weak point in his armor. The dagger pierced the leather and skin underneath. Blood gushed. His flesh burned. Erik yelled in pain having his coat and skin slashed from his left shoulder blade almost to his elbow. He saw white, but still held Kazi close, protecting her from another inevitable blow with his own body. Kazi screamed into his ear. The assassin hissed. Someone heard or saw what was happening and was loudly calling for Kemon and Abdal.   A blade swished in the night air, the would-be assassin let out an abruptly cut scream. Something hit the ground with a thud, a hot sticky shower fell on Erik’s back and head and he needn’t look behind him to know it was blood. Kazi trembled, her nails digging into his thick leather gauntlets. Erik lowered himself to his knees, Kazi holding on to him or maybe he was holding onto her, he wasn’t sure. His back burned, pain he had never experienced before shooting up his entire body.   “Kazi!” Saabi called out somewhere beyond his blurring vision.   Sobbing Kazi was taken away from his protective embrace and Erik had no strength to protest. He was sweaty and cold all of the sudden, like when he was but a wee lad and came down with the worst flu of his life. He had to get up and look around to make sure they were safe, but his knees were far too weak. He fell forward, supporting himself on his wounded arm, yelling yet again in pain, sweat beading on his forehead.   “They found me. They found me.” Kazi whimpered panicked somewhere close to him, no doubt in her sister’s safe embrace.   A hand closed on his shoulder, someone knelt next to his side. With tremendous effort Erik craned his head to look at Aza. Her eyes were wide open, her grip on his shoulder firm. Fresh blood dripped off one of her drawn swords.   “Erik…” She breathed, unsure if she should be panicking too. “Are you okay?”   He opened his mouth to assure that although it hurt like a bitch he was fine, but he realized he was unable to draw breath, like he had lost control over his own lungs. He looked at her, half-terrified and half apologetic, falling to his side with his mouth agape.   “Erik!” Aza cried out his name, rolling him on his back. “Stay with me, whatever you do, don’t close your eyes. SAABI!” She yelled, her Voice scaring off birds from the surrounding trees. “Get over here, he’s been poisoned!”   Stendarr’s mercy, she was truly terrified whilst Erik himself felt quickly spreading numbness. He made one last tremendous effort to reach up and touch her face, but he was able to raise his hand for only few inches. Aza stared down at him, the look on her face the picture of horror and pain.   “Don’t leave me.” She whispered hoarsely, whilst Saabi’s gentle palms appeared from beyond Erik’s vision to move the heroine aside so that the healer could step in and do her job.   He lost all feeling, his numb hand dropped on his chest. He sunk into nothingness.   ---   The first rays of sunshine pierced through his eyelids, signaling that it was already morning and he should get up and get to work. Erik yawned and stretched, sitting up in his bed back in his father’s inn. Wait… this didn’t feel right.   “Took you while enough.” Mralki scolded, entering the room to open the heavy wooden shutters, drowning Erik’s childhood room in blinding light. “I swear boy, you sleep like the dead!”   “Pa?” Erik stuttered, unsure if this was real or if he was dreaming. “What happened?”   “That’s a good question, son. What do you think happened?” Mralki inquired casually, turning to face the bed.   “I got hit. That damned Khajiit cut me up good. Shit, I’m going to have another scar when I wake up.” He groaned, his fists clenching tight on the blanket. “That is if I wake up. Where am I? Am I dead?”   “Well, where do you think you are?” His father asked, crossing his arms, somewhat amused by Erik’s confusion.   “This isn’t Sovngarde, that’s for sure. I can tell, I was there with Aza to slay Alduin. And if I am not going to Sovngarde after my death then I’ve been royally fucked over by the Gods!” He grunted, agitated by the whole situation.     “Do you think you deserve Sovngarde?” Mralki asked, unbothered by Erik’s tantrum.   “Of course I do!” The hero boasted with fire. “I helped the Dragonborn slay Alduin! I slayed Lord Harkon! I’m Erik the Slayer for Gods’ sake!” He said with fire, jumping out of bed.   Pa laughed at Erik’s outburst. He shook his head, then wiped his hands on his dirty apron.   “So, what happens now?” Erik asked, looking around his room. Some details weren’t right. And he couldn’t see the familiar plains of Whiterun from outside of the window, only that blinding white light.   “Well, that depends on that Saabi woman.” Mralki explained casually. “She’s a fine healer, but the poison on that dagger was made for a Redguard. And Redguards are somewhat poison resistant.”   “So, if I’m not dead, then where am I? I’m not dreaming, right pa? Shit, what am I saying, you’re not my father. Who or what are you?” Erik grunted frustrated, pacing around the room whilst Mralki remained frozen in place.   “It doesn’t matter, really. I’m just here so you don’t feel alone whilst your life is on the line. Just stay here with me and relax, son. It will all be over soon.” Mralki encouraged, in that characteristic caring and yet patronizing tone that always drove Erik insane.   “Like Oblivion I will!” The hero shouted, walking up to the door.   He pulled at the doorknob, but the door wouldn’t budge, kept shut by some unseen force. Figures. The hero shot the entity impersonating his father a dirty look before turning to the door again, knocking it down with a powerful kick. There was nothing behind the door, only more whiteness. Erik took a step back. It was this or staying here and he had no intention of being passive. He braced himself for whatever there was to come and stepped forward, falling into the endless stretch of light.   He gasped for air, frantically tossing on the bed of furs, throwing Aza’s warm cape off himself. Though his eyes were wide open, vision came back to him gradually, revealing the rough shapes of his surroundings. Wagon. He was laying on a wagon, wrapped from the waist up in bandages, Saabi, Kazi and Zia his only company.   “He’s awake!” Zia squeaked shocked.   “He’s alive!” Kazi whispered relieved.   Saabi said nothing, but gently guided Erik to lean over the edge of the wagon, allowing him to loudly empty his stomach. Black oily bile shot out of his mouth as the young adventurer retched and convulsed, vomiting all the vile liquid out until all he could do was dry heave.   “I fucking knew that wasn’t Sovngarde.” He muttered, laying back on the makeshift bed.   ---   Aza and Kemon rode side by side at the head of the caravan. Aza rode Erik’s bay mare, leading her paint horse tied to the saddle with all their joined gear on her back. The soft whining of the still weak horse was torturous droning, only accenting the tense silence between the former spouses.   “Saabi won’t let him die, trust me.” Kemon assured, daring to look at Aza’s stern profile.   “Shut up.” She grunted abruptly.   “I should have seen this coming. I trust my scouts so much that I should have expected one of them to be quietly killed and replaced by an assassin. They must have seized the opportunity seeing our camp in chaos after Excella and the bard were kidnapped.” Kemon went on, ignoring that particular note in her tone that had most people bite their tongues.   “Shut. Up.” Aza repeated, clenching the reins like a lifeline.   “I’m sorry. I-”   Whatever Kemon was about to say was cut short by the loud sound of Erik violently vomiting in the back. Aza shot Kemon a death glare, turning her horse around, unhurriedly riding to the wagon where Erik and the three women rode. At the sight of the woman Zia jumped, scurrying to the back of the wagon, avoiding Aza’s piercing gaze.   “He just woke up. Don’t worry, the vomiting was to be expected. His body is getting rid of the poison.” Saabi said as a greeting.   “Is he going to be alright?” The adventurer made sure, not taking her eyes off her sweating and heaving partner.   “Yes, his life is no longer in danger.” Saabi assured, but somehow she did not seem to be relieved, looking into Aza’s mismatched eyes with uncertainty of what the heroine was planning to do next.   “That’s good to hear. Erik.” the woman addressed her partner in a cold, strict tone. “Grab my cape and get on the horse. I’ve got all our gear with me.”   “Please, whatever your plan is, don’t do anything abrupt.” Saabi pleaded, as Erik mounted Aza’s mare with some effort, the horse whining loudly in protest.   “That’s up to your husband.” Aza replied blandly, ignoring the miserable sounds the horse was making, riding off with her partner to confront Kemon.   She rode past the man, blocking the middle of the road with their two horses, forcing the entire caravan to halt. She was both physically and mentally exhausted, sustained only by her fury. It was time for a confrontation long coming.   “Your bullshit nearly cost me Erik’s life.” She said without any trace of anger and yet Kemon knew she was on the verge of killing someone.   “I’m sorry. I take full responsibility.” He swore solemnly, enduring her gaze.   “I don’t want your sorry. I want answers. I want to hear the truth. All of it. I want to know why you were forced to leave Hammerfell, who is after you, why they want Kazi dead, what is your destination and why is it so important. You’re going to tell me everything.”   “And if I won’t?” Kemon’s brows crossed.   “Then we leave and you’re on your own. You can choke on your gold, I’m not risking Erik’s life again.”   “Aza…” Erik protested weakly, practically lying flat on the paint mare, sitting up straight in the saddle too much of an effort for him.   “Shut up. I got this.”   “Are you in any position to make demands?” The head of the caravan asked with a dare in his eye. He had too much at stake to back down.   “Kemon, please.” Kazi pleaded, approaching as quickly as her state would permit, supporting herself on Saabi’s shoulder. “They did so much for us, I know we can trust them. They deserve to know.”   Surprised, the man stared down at his sister-in law. His usual hardiness melting away at the sight of determination in usually complicit Kazi. He cleared his throat and nodded at her, before turning to speak to Aza.   “Alright. You will get your answers, all of them.” He agreed, with a heavy sigh. “But not here. Once we make camp, we will tell you everything. What say you?”   “That works for me. But I’m warning you Kemon, if you hold out anything important on us, I’ll- Erik for the love of Mara!” Aza groaned frustrated, looking over her shoulder as Erik leaned over the side of her paint mare and vomited again. “You better not get my horse filthy!”   ---  The rest of the day was spent on climbing up the Rift, leaving Eastmarch behind. The road was winding and steep, the threat of slipping and falling to one’s death real. No one was in the mood for conversation, not even the usually chatty flock of harlots.   And to make things worse it started to rain.   The group reached a plateau with a mountain tarn. The caravanners made camp in haste. The seven of them gathered in a circle in the grand tent normally occupied by Kemon and his family. Aside from Aza, Erik, Kemon, Saabi and Kazi there were also Excella and Talsgar present.   “Why is he here?” Kemon asked sharply, eying the bard with disapproval, the events of the previous day still fresh in his memory.   “He is our unwilling tagalong.” Excella explained calmly, glued to the nervous bard’s side. “He deserves to know why we’re keeping him with us.”   Talsgar shook his head, no clever words coming to his mind. He finally decided to shrug and look away, avoiding Kemons piercing grey eyes. The man grunted with disapproval, but did not push the topic further.   “I suppose before Kazi explains everything it’s best to tell you how Kemon and I came to be.” Saabi suggested, unable to read Aza’s face.   “Let’s stick to the most important facts.” Kemon interrupted abruptly, glancing at his first wife.   “It’s alright.” Aza said colorlessly, almost comfortable with the knife she felt in her chest.   “Thanks to our daughter’s outburst you know I am not her birth mother.” Saabi patiently outlined, unaware how much pain she was causing Aza with her every word.   “I used to run a caravan with my first wife. She died in the desert in an orc ambush over ten years ago.” Kemon quickly cut in, knowing that the words will hurt just a bit less if he is the one who speaks them. “If it weren’t for her, Zia and I would have died with her.” He stressed out.   “Tragic.” Aza summed up, conjuring all her strength to appear as gruff as possible.   “Zia and I made it to safety on a half-dead horse. Poor thing needed to be put out of its misery once we reached the city. Zia came down with a bad fever and I was forced to leave her at the temple healers. With no money and no caravan to run I took all sorts of odd jobs in the ports of Sentinel to afford her healing. That was where I met Saabi.”   “I was, and to this day am, a healer.” The woman elaborated, taking over the tale now that the most painful part was over. “Just like yourself, I am from the great Alik’r desert. Just like my mother and her mother before her, I studied the old ways. I would have remained a wise woman to our tribe if our lands weren’t conquered by a local lord.” With that she turned to Kazi and nodded, encouraging her sister to pick up the tale.   “Our tribe offered me as tribute for his harem and Saabi insisted she go with me and stay until I was of age. There I met my other sisters.” Kazi smiled, taking Excella’s hand. “We’re not related by blood, but they’re like family to me. Some of them came from noble families, some form other desert tribes…”   “And some from the finest brothels of Sentinel!” Excella laughed lightheartedly.   “It sounds horrid, but rest assured, they were all treated well.” Saabi assured seeing the horror on Talsgar’s face. “Kazi was allowed to study and live comfortably and never forced to give him affection unless she wanted to. I was at her side until she grew into a promising young woman, and the nobleman took a special fondness of her after being recently widowed.”   “A fondness which I also shared.” Kazi confessed with a blush.   “With my work as Kazi’s guardian complete, I asked that I be allowed to leave. I felt my healing talents could be better used in the outside world. My wish was granted and I left with only the clothes on my back and my instruments. Eventually, I wandered to Sentinel, where I volunteered to aid the local temple healers. That was when I met Kemon and his young daughter.”   “Saabi saved Zia’s life.” Kemon chimed in, attempting to keep the touchy subject to a minimum. “She healed her in full and refused any payment. So, I asked if she’d like to stay with us. And she agreed. I was slaving away at the docks, saving up and forging contacts to rebuild my caravan. Saabi helped me immensely. It took us another year, but we finally made enough to get back on the road. It was a small caravan at first, but over time we expanded.”   “Those were some of the best years of my life.” Saabi continued. “Kazi and I kept writing letters to each other so that I would be sure all was well. Until…”   “Until my lover started to lose his footing.” Kazi stated with a barely noticeable frown. “His ambitions and the fact that he was a Crown supporter did not make him popular. We knew it was only a matter of time before his enemies made a move on his estate. We were not safe and he decided we had to relocate. Thank the gods he had more reason than pride.”   Kemon cleared his throat before joining in. “Kazi wrote to Saabi asking that our caravan wait for them in a neutral location and help them reach his distant relatives back in Cyrodiil. We were near the border with Skyrim at the time. We spent…” he sighed deeply. “Weeks stranded in Solitude, waiting for them to catch up with us hoping the Nords civil war won’t affect us. Just as I thought things couldn’t get even worse, Kazi arrived. Alone.”   “My lover was assassinated along the way. Me and my sisters met Kemon in Solitude with no place to go. We thought it was over, but then I learned that I was with child. His heir.” Kazi’s voice lowered as she stared down at he pronounced stomach, deep in thought.   “Kazi is sweet, but she is also bright.” Saabi went on. “As she mentioned before, her ill-fated lover has relatives living in exile in Cyrodiil. Her unborn child has strong claims to a large portion of northern Hammerfell. Claims which I am sure said relatives would be more than happy to support in exchange for a cut.”   “But only under the condition that all my sisters could come with me and be kept safe.” Kazi swore with a hardy look on her face.   “We sent out letters and had to continue our wait in Solitude until we got a reply. In the meantime, Saabi and Kazi sailed in secret to Solstheim as a precaution against any more assassins. Finally, we got a reply that they were granted safe haven in Cyrodiil. The rest you know as that is then you two met us before we all came together in Windhelm.” Kemon recollected.   “But why come to Skyrim in the first place?” Aza wondered out loud, trying to understand Kemon’s reasoning. “Why not travel south and enter Cyrodiil directly through Colovia?”   “You’d be surprised how much the homeland has changed. A well-known Crown noble with powerful enemies better have a damned good reason to be travelling through south of Hammerfell. Not to mention approaching the boarder with Cyrodiil.” Kemon smiled bitterly. “I’m no fool, I know how risky this all is. But by now you know we are desperate and out of better options.”   “This is needlessly complicated, convoluted and you have no guarantee it will work.” Aza sighed, crossing her arms. “But fuck it, I’ll help you. Erik?”   “Sure, why not.” Her partner agreed carefreely, despite being soaked in sweat and just recently back from the verge of death. “Um… I’ve got just one question, though. What’s a harem?”   ---   “Talsgar.” Excella said deep in thought, stroking the bard’s shoulder and watching the two adventurers heading towards a nearby tarn. “I think I will sleep with the big sister to make up for all the stress she’s been through.”   “I… Well, of course.” The bard blurted confused, clearly not the jealous type. “But what about her partner? That axe he carries is clearly not for show.”   “Oh, I think he wouldn’t mind.” The harlot smirked. She was good with reading people and could pick up the dynamics in a group with ease. She smiled like a child in on a joke, hoping that Kazi gets some comfort for herself as well. And no axes would be needed for that. Only the axeman.   ---   “I thought you were done with being my nanny.” Erik joked tiredly, peeling off his sweat-soaked clothes and cautiously entering the wonderfully cold water. The day was almost over, but he insisted he needed a wash while it was still bright. He couldn’t stomach the idea of spending another minute smelling of blood, sweat, poison and vomit.   “Don’t be stupid, you’re still weak and I don’t want you fainting and drowning in shallow water like an idiot.” Aza refuted, taking her boots off and rolling up her pants to join him in case he needed support. In the crimson sunset she could clearly see the almost black outline of his fresh scar.   “That bad?” He guessed, looking over his shoulder and catching her staring.   “Yea.” Aza sighed, the concerned look on her face accenting the rows on her forehead. “Saabi did what she could, but that’s going to be a nasty scar. Sorry.”   “I’ll start wearing sleeveless shirts and tell people wild tales when they ask how I got it.” Erik joked, lathering a chunk of soap in his hands.   “Dumbass…” Aza rolled her eyes, staring up at the sky as if silently asking the gods for patience. “You alright?” She asked quietly, deflating and going numb after the harrowing day she just had. Absentmindedly, she stared off into the distance, thankful it was getting dark so fast.   “I could ask you the same thing.” Erik forced himself to crack a smile, taking his time to wash the sweat and stench of poison off himself. Thank Talos, the world finally stopped spinning and his vision was once again focused. Though, he still had a disgusting metallic-oily aftertaste in his mouth.   “Don’t be smart with me.” Aza grunted, turning her face to look at him. “You almost died.”   “Wouldn’t be the first time.” He said lightheartedly, but dropped the act seeing the look in her eyes. She was on the verge of a breakdown.   Before he could say anything, she reached him in a few long paces and outstretched her arms, crushing him in a tight embrace. Through the reinforced leather of her top Erik could hear her heart pound like crazy.   “Hey…” He said softly, returning her protective embrace. “It’s okay. I’m here.”   “Erik…” She croaked through her clenched throat, burying her face between his shoulder and neck. “In my life I bounced back from some really bad situations. But if I’d lose you… My life would be over. I wouldn’t pick myself up again. I wouldn’t do anything abrupt, but… I’d remain a shell for the rest of my days.”  She confessed.   Erik rested his cheek on the top of her head, patting her back and letting her have this moment of vulnerability in silence. It was only after her shoulders ceased to tremble that he spoke.   “It’s only another scar I can add to my collection. Everyone’s fine and we can keep moving. That’s the most important thing, right?” He comforted as calmly as he could.   “Yeah. You’re right.” Aza agreed, pulling herself away, back to her old self again. She cleared her throat and spat, but did not look him in the eyes yet. “But let me tell you, I can’t remember the last time I was this terrified. The thought of you dying… Knowing that it’s a real possibility because of what we do for a living … Fuck, it scares me.”   “Mhm, and what are you going to do about it? Love me so badly that you’ll shield me from the entire world just like my Pa did?” He teased, hoping that if he pisses her off a bit, she won’t fall apart. And he was successful.   “Shut the fuck up.” Aza grunted with her familiar ferocity.   “That’s my girl.” Erik grinned like an unruly brat. “Now how about you wash my hair, hm?”   “Forget it. I’m getting cold. You take your time and I’ll be waiting for you on the shore.”   ---   “Please, join us.” Saabi beckoned when the pair of heroes was about to light themselves their own private little bonfire. “We should all stay together, I’m actually angry at myself for not insisting on this earlier.”   “Saabi…” Aza sighed, wishing the healer did not make things more difficult for her with her good intentions. “We really…”   “Please. You’re not beggars or convenient tagalongs. You did so much for us and deserve a spot at our fire. And if it’s my daughter you’re concerned about then rest assured, Kemon forbade her from leaving his side.” The older woman insisted.   So, the adventurers joined the caravanners at the main fire, where the mood of the group was still far from relaxed, but much better than the previous night. Talsgar remained at Excella’s side, attending to her and the other harlots’ every need, despite Excella repeatedly telling him he needn’t act like a servant. But the bard persisted, ever grateful to the woman for saving his life. Kemon shared quick words with Abdal, every once and again glancing at his daughter, making sure she was not about to run off and do something stupid again. Kazi sat comfortable on a pile of embroidered pillows, talking quietly with her sister, regaining her composure entirely after the failed attempt on her (and her unborn child’s) life.     “Here.” Erik handed Aza a dusty bottle once they sat down and accepted their food. “Ale. I snatched it from Mistwatch. I figured I’d save it for some special occasion, but I think you could use a drink. Feel free to chug it all down, my stomach is twisting at the very thought of alcohol.”   Aza took the bottle with relief. The contents were cold and strong, and went well with the steaming stew they were handed, just the thing she needed. She drank slowly, taking her time to eat and process the recent events and what they were just told. She thought her life was complicated, but after hearing Kazi’s story she wasn’t so sure anymore.   And by proxy, Zia’s life was getting very complicated. And that was a problem.   Speaking of which, Kazi was glancing at Erik with an oddly intense look in her big brown eyes. The way she not so subtly bit her lip was suggesting she was having some intense feelings about her dashing young savior.   “See something you like?” Aza made conversation, shuffling closer to the pregnant woman. Kazi laughed nervously, looking away, but she was already caught staring. “Being curious is nothing to be ashamed of. I guess growing up in the desert and then in the harem, you hadn’t seen any Nords, right?”   “No. First time I saw one was when we boarded the ship for Solitude. They’re…” She paused to watch Erik whip his still wet hair back. “Intriguing.”   Aza smirked, so thankful for the bottle. “I’ve seen them all over Tamriel, but the Skyrim natives are something else. I still can’t get over how tall and broad they are. And their hair! They have so much of it and it’s sooo smooth!” She exhaled dreamily, remembering all of the true sons and daughters of Skyrim she bedded since escaping Helgen. “How fare are you?” She suddenly changed topics, leaning confidentially so that no one would listen in on them.   “Still a few weeks.”   “You could use some fun before settling down to raise your child.” Aza suggested. “If there is anything you need…”   “I don’t mean to overstep.” Kazi politely declined, yet her tone was not all that convinced.   “I’m not the jealous type. To be honest with you.” Aza leaned closer. “I think he’s curious himself. Hey, Erik!” She called out loud, turning over to her mate who in the meantime moved to have a few words with Abdal.   “What?” The young hero asked, annoyed his conversation was interrupted. Abdal was just telling him about half-snake-half-woman monsters called Lamias inhabiting Hammerfell’s southern peninsula.   “How old are you now?” Aza asked innocently, as if she weren’t trying to set him up for a night of fun with the lovely Kazi.   “I’ll be twenty-one coming spring. Why?” He asked suspiciously. He was glad his partner was in a better mood, but that spark in her good eye usually meant trouble for him.   “Nothing. Eat, you need your strength.” She shook her head, turning to address Kazi in a hushed tone. “He’s young, but I taught him a few tricks myself and he has a lot of… enthusiasm. You’ll love him.”   Kazi giggled, embracing her protruding stomach and Aza couldn’t help but feel warmth in her chest for a change. She got back to her food and drink, happy she was doing something nice for someone. Even if that niceness had a lewd undertone.   ---   “You’re joking!” Erik gasped. “How big?”   “Like a medium-sized pig.” Abdal confirmed with a smirk, savoring his watered down drink. As head of the caravan’s security he couldn’t afford his wits getting dulled by alcohol.   “A beetle as big as a pig?” Erik whistled amazed, still unsure if the man was speaking the truth or merely pulling his leg.   “I swear by Leki’s perfect blade!” Abdal swore, amused at the young adventurer’s curiosity. “You can find them in the desert. Nasty things, can cut your leg off with their mandibles without any effort. And they’re poisonous.”   “Hello there.” Excella gracefully slid to Erik’s side, so close that for a second he wondered if she was going to take a bite of his food. “How are you feeling?”   “Pretty good… all things considered. My arm almost stopped hurting.” He said politely, disappointed to see Abdal get back to conversation with Kemon. Too bad, he really wanted to prod the man about the creatures found in Hammerfell.   “I wanted to thank you. If it weren’t for the two of you I’d probably be dead or still in the clammy hands of that bandit chief.” Excella said, getting a bit too comfortable next to him.   “Don’t mention it.” He said casually, taking a cautious sip of water. His stomach was empty, but he didn’t want to risk another fit of retching.   “Can I sleep with your girlfriend?” Excella asked nonchalantly, without a hint of shame nor disrespect.   Erik snorted water out of his nose and coughed loudly. Excella patiently patted him on the back and handed him a clean handkerchief. The hero took it without a word, wiped his nose and face then gave her a scrutinizing look. Excella was smiling ever so slightly, saying nothing, waiting for his ok.   “Sure.” He laughed after the confusion passed, shaking his head. “Why not. She could use some comfort and I’m in no condition to give her any.”   “Splendid.” The harlot purred pleased.   The caravan, divided into smaller groups chatted and relaxed after the harrowing events, until everyone was done eating. The harlots quickly excused themselves, heading to their tents, somehow whisking Talsgar away with them. Though, the fact that the bard took his lute with him suggested neither sleep nor lewd pleasures were on his mind. Kemon and Abdal remained at the fire, whilst Saabi, Kazi and Zia headed to the largest tent for a night of well-deserved rest. The hyena followed them and rested at their tent’s entrance.   “So…” Erik cleared his throat, as he and Aza were done with their meals and ready to depart as well. “Just thinking out loud here. If for any reason Excella would make a move on you… I wouldn’t mind.”   “Really?” Aza blinked, equally surprised and excited at the very prospect of having some alone time with the glamorous Excella. “Damn, if this is the Gods making up for fucking me for the last few days, then I’ll take it! Anywayyy…” She looked around in case they were being listened in on, but it seemed no one was paying them any attention. “How would you like to sleep with Kazi?” She asked with a wide smile.   “I… well. I wouldn’t mind.” Erik confessed with a dumb grin. Kazi was pretty. And he never had the chance to spend some time with a pregnant woman. Now that the opportunity presented itself, he was more than curious.” But is it safe for her and the baby? My dick is pretty impressive. I don’t want to hurt them.”   “If you’ll act like her dashing savior and not a damned savage, then there’s nothing to worry about. Just go slow and have fun. Gods know she could use some comfort after all the things she’s been through…” Aza assured with an amused snicker. “And please… tame your pubes before you pull your pants down for her.”   “Well, look at you! Is that… are you doing something nice for someone? With no ulterior motives?” Erik teased, slinging his healthy arm over her shoulder.   “Shut up.” She muttered and yet she rested her cheek on his shoulder for a second. “Now, I haven’t slept since we went on our merry rescue mission the day before, so I’m off to bed. You coming?”   “No, you go on ahead without me. I was knocked out cold for the entire day and I’m not sleepy at all. I think I’ll keep watch and think things over.”   “Suit yourself.” Aza shrugged her shoulders, resultantly slipping out of his warmth and heading to their tent.   She crawled inside and quickly got undressed, flinging on a loose shirt instead. Once alone and away from anyone’s prying eyes she cured up in a ball on her side. She took in a slow breath, exhaling a quiet whimper, covering her burning face with her cold hands. She had no tears left to cry, but needed a moment to let it all out.   The day was finally over. One of the toughest days she had in years. Preparing to slay Alduin was nothing in comparison to what she just went through. But the important thing was that she prevailed… barely and could face another day tomorrow.   Gods, she needed sleep. And a drink. Anything to help get her mind off her past and present.   Someone gently scraped their nail against the canvas fabric of the tent’s entrance, ending the heroine’s dark thoughts. Aza rolled to her back and rose on her elbow, catching a dark outline kneeling outside.   “Do you need some company?” Excella’s quietly asked.   Aza smirked.   “Come in, gorgeous.” She beckoned.

Chapter 5 - Homecoming

  “Any news from your son?” Jouane asked, finishing his mulled mead. His age didn’t allow stronger drinks.   “No, not yet.” Mralki replied, sweeping the floor. “I got a letter from him a few months ago, but nothing new ever since.”   He sighed, putting the broom aside. In his letter Erik mentioned some dangerous assignment. Mralki feared the worst. Gods, he remembered his son as a babe crying, kicking and screaming, because he had no teat to suck on. His mother passed away too fast… And now he was somewhere, doing Gods only know what. He hoped he was safe and in one piece, but he knew he was fooling himself. The life of a wanderer was not an easy one.   As time flew by, he realized how overprotective he was. He regretted sheltering his boy for so long. His son was old enough to have a wife and child of his own! Mayhap if he’d been more lenient, Erik would grow up less curious and adventurous. But there was no point in torturing himself now. His son was old enough to make his own decisions.   “I’m sure he’s okay.” The elderly Breton comforted.   “Or” Lemkil, the most sordid man in the village, cut in. “That crazy woman you let him go with finally got tired of the oaf, cut his throat and dumped the body in a ditch.”   “Nonsense!” The innkeeper snapped. “You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about!”   “Whatever. Was done talking anyway.” Lemkil grunted, shoving his cup aside. He left the inn bumbling and muttering.   “Sometimes I think he’s the cruelest man in all of Skyrim.” Jouane said with a frown. “My heart goes out to his girls.”   Mralki nodded. Lemkil’s wife died giving birth to his twin daughters. The man never recovered after that loss. It seemed he focused all his grief and anger on his children, and went to great lengths to make their lives miserable. The innkeeper and Jouane helped those poor girls as best as they could. Still, there was nothing they could do about their father.   “I managed to feed them some good stew the other day.” Mralki said, wiping his hands in his apron.   “Divines bless your kind heart.” The Breton smiled. “I’ll try to get them some nice dresses once I’m in Whiterun. They grew out of all their clothes, the sleeves barely cover their forearms.”   “I could give you some money.”   “Nonsense, you have a business to run. The money Rorik pays for my service is more than I can spend. I am too old for excessive drinking or the affection of wenches, so I’d rather do something kind for Britte and Sissel.”   The door swung open, letting in the chill of the rainy night. A man entered, kicking the door behind. He was soaked and weary, his armor and weapon were black. Mralki semiconsciously reached for a mace hidden under the counter.   “We have room and food, but you got to pay up front. No handouts or bartering. Your weapon stays on the rack.” He said sternly. He didn’t like that big axe the stranger was carrying. “If your horse needs food I got that too.” He added, hearing neighing from outside.   The stranger stepped into the light. The innkeeper’s hands went numb, the mace he was clutching under the counter slipped from his fingers and hit the floor.   “Erik!”   “Hi, pa.”   Mralki rushed from his spot and took his son in his arms. Did Erik grow taller in all those months? His shoulders certainly were wider.   “What happened to your face?” Just as expected, this was his father’s first question.   “It’s nothing. You should see what I did to the other guy.” Erik laughed carefreely. It came so naturally to him, Mralki shrugged. “It’s good to see you, Jouane.”   “Likewise.” The Breton sensed he should leave. “It’s late. Goodnight to you two, I’m sure you have a lot of catching up.”   As they were left alone, both felt awkward. There were so many things they wanted to say to each other, but didn’t know how.   “I’m glad you’re okay.” The father broke the silence.   “There were rough moments, but I’m good, pa.”   “So… you’re hungry?” He asked, patting his son’s shoulder.   “Terribly. And I hadn’t slept in a real bed for days.” Erik confessed embarrassed.   “Good. I got roasted lamb. But, Erik” the innkeeper raised his brow. “I’m not providing for you anymore. Let’s see some coin.”   His son handed over a coinpurse without a word of protest. Mralki was astonished by its weight.   “How did you get all that?”   “Here and there. Some I got from selling things. Some I looted from ruins. Some was on fools that tried to rob me…” Erik confessed with a sigh. The roads were dangerous in times of war.   He was served a beautifully glazed roast along with bread and mead. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this hungry. Mralki let his son eat in peace, realizing how he had changed. He stopped slouching and held his head high. His movement was less sluggish, more precise. He seemed relaxed, and at the same time alert. The absent-minded pup was gone.   “What?” Erik asked, noticing his father’s gaze. “I got something on my face?”   “It’s just sinking into me. You’re not a lad anymore, son… I’m proud of you.”   “I… Thank you, pa. It means a lot to me.” He said dumbfounded. He’d never suspect his father would say something like that. And now that he did, Erik realized how much he wanted, needed to hear those words.   “You’re not staying.” Mralki stated instead of asking.   “No. I wanted to visit, and here I am. And I will visit in the future. But I’m not going to settle down yet.”   “I understand.” Pa nodded, showing no surprise. “So, what have you been up to?”   They talked for hours. Erik was grateful Mralki didn’t ask about Aza. He shared some stories, omitting the grimmer and unbelievable parts like dragons and ancient evil.   “And the Argonian?” Father asked intrigued.   “Went back to Darkwater Crossing. But that Falmer was less lucky.” Erik finished his tale, then yawned.   “It’s late, son. We have a lot of time to talk. Your room is just like you left it, though I was tempted to turn it into a storeroom. You should go get some rest.”   “I will. I’ll see you in the morning, pa. Goodnight.”   ---   Nothing changed in his room, and yet Erik felt strange. As if a permanent place to stay lost all its appeal. He would much more like a one night stay in an unremarkable inn, or camp in the wild. The familiar shapes annoyed him. He couldn’t sleep, his bed seemed to creak more than he remembered. There were his old commoner clothes folded on the chair, but they were too tight now.   His room seemed so juvenile. The bed was too small. The moldy old books he used to adore seemed so ridiculous now. His childhood treasures lost all their magic. Father should turn this room into storage space. Ah, but Mralki would never do that. He’d never erase his son’s extended childhood just like that.   He was happy to see pa again. Moreover, he was relieved Mralki did not patronize him and treated like a man. The moment he said he was proud of him, Erik felt joy and peace he hadn’t felt in a long time. Perhaps because of his independence, their bond gained new strength.   His eyelids felt heavy. Sleep overcame him in a second. He dreamed his old childhood memory. And yet, it was different. There he was, a toddler peeping at a Redguard woman taking a wash. He could see her, the first woman he saw naked. But she wasn’t facing him, he could only see her back. Her hair was shorter, her skin had a warmer tone. She unhurriedly washed her back and shoulders, soapy water dripped down her glistening skin. The rough sponge brushed her thoroughly, leaving slippery foam. In the candlelight he could see her skin shine with healthy radiance. Her moves were relaxed, she enjoyed every moment of her special privacy time.   Finally, she reached for a bucket of cold water and poured it all over herself. She cried, then laughed as cold water soaked her hair and washed off all the remaining foam. She stood up from the stool and reached for a towel. Humming a tune, she dried her hair, turning around with a pirouette. Erik couldn’t see her face yet, only her figure. The details didn’t match what he remembered. The woman was younger and much taller. Her hips were wider, so were her shoulders.   She finished drying her hair and shook her head, the towel rested on her shoulders like a scarf. Gods, it was Aza. But… different. Erik vaguely knew it was how she would look like if she hadn’t lost her family. Her both eyes were dark green, the few small cuts she had on her face were gone. So were the scars marking her whole body. Only the c-section scar remained, reaching from her navel to her womb. Her figure was less athletic; her stomach was soft and rounded, her waist thicker. Still, her arms and legs, though not as muscular, were by no means feeble. Her breasts had a slight sag, as if worn out by nursing more than just one child.   She noticed him. His heart stopped. In his sleep he moaned and rolled on his back. She laughed, bending forward with curiosity. He noticed her womb was covered by a thick, soft bush that steadily dripped water. The real Aza, obsessed with intimate grooming, would never allow that.   “You lost, little cub?” She asked, smiling. The deep rows the real Aza had on her forehead were gone. Instead, the dream-Aza had wrinkles in the corners of her eyes and mouth, no doubt from laughing.   He hesitated, his tiny hand clenched the doorframe. Though he wanted to say something, words couldn’t form in his mouth. He was a toddler, after all.   “Come on, I won’t bite.” She smiled, offering her hand.   He took a step forward and reached out his plump arm. The moment he crossed the doorstep, he went through the floor and fell into pitch-black nothingness. He gasped, waking up. His back was soaked with sweat.   It was just a dream, this was the good part. The bad part was that he hadn’t dreamed of her ever since Markarth. He had a faint certainty this wasn’t the last dream he will be having of the Redguard harlot.   He wasn’t sleepy anymore, so he decided to do something about it. He loosened his pants, and just like he used to, masturbated in the privacy of his room. A while later, with semen on his abdomen and chest, he whispered a curse and slipped back into uneasy sleep.   ---   “No, you bitch! Nooo!” Aza protested, but Borgakh held her firmly by the wrists.   “It is the way of the Orcs! Don’t fight it!” She grunted, slapping her mate’s ass.   “Damn it, not in the ass again! Come in my pussy, you damned cow!” The adventurer pleaded, embarrassed by her own eagerness.   “I’m not even sure if my seed can impregnate you!”   “Then in my mouth!!”   “Fine!” The Orc agreed, releasing her.   Aza got off Borgakh’s laps and dropped onto her knees. She firmly gripped Steel Heart’s throbbing shaft and stroked it fast, licking the tip with her flattened tongue, just like the green-skinned woman liked.   “It’s going to be a big load…!” Borgakh warned.   “I can take it.” Aza promised, reaching down and stroking herself on the clit. “I want you to fill my mouth.”   Suddenly, the Orc grabbed her head, and forced down. Thankfully, Aza was an expert when it came to deep-throating. She squeezed her cheeks and throat just as Steel Heart was about to climax. The chief’s daughter grunted savagely, as her abdomen convulsed and her cock ejaculated with brute intensity. Aza worked hard to swallow every drop. Still, some slipped from her mouth.   “I knew you’d get me all clammy.” The Orc sighed.   “Relax, I got this.”   She thoroughly licked Borgakh, cleaning her cock and abdomen from the creamy seed. Orcish cum always had a deep bitter undertone.   “Alright, alright, I’m clean now.” Borgakh said, brushing her mate’s hair back. “Your turn.”   Aza squirmed and moaned as the Orc showed her what she could do with her fangs and long tongue. The spacing between orcish fangs was perfect for keeping the labials out of the way.   “Do you want my fingers inside?” Steel Heart asked, scratching Aza’s inner thighs. Thankfully, her usually sharp nails were now blunt.   “Yeees!” The Redguard muttered helplessly.   “You ask so nicely, you’ll get two!”   “Oh fuck…!” The Redguard melted, feeling rough fingers working inside her pussy. “Bend them a bit, yesss, just like that…!” A thin stream of saliva escaped her mouth when Borgakh’s fingertips found that small, sensitive spot inside her.   She rocked her hips faster and faster, feeling her womb heat up. When she came, she almost did a split. Steel Heart eagerly licked her pussy, then quickly stuffed her tongue inside, the Redguard’s quivering hole tightly squeezed around her.   “Ah… I enjoy your company more than you know.” The Orsimer said pleased, wiping her mouth.   “So do I.” Aza confessed.   The two took a moment to cool down, listening in on any activity in the pine woods. They didn’t hear anything alarming, the night was quiet and peaceful.   “I get the feeling now’s the time you tell me it’s over.” Aza heaved a sigh.   “Yes…” Borgakh’s thoughts drifted away. “It’s time I return to the stronghold. I wanted to part with you sooner… but you kept luring me back with your lustful offers. Regardless, my duty towards my people comes first. We’ll reach Falkreath soon, that’s where we’ll say our goodbyes. I must go back to Mor Khazgur. I will ask the Wise Woman for advice and beg Malacath for forgiveness. He does not forgive easily, but I will withstand his anger and accept any punishment.”   “Okay. If that’s what you really want, I won’t stop you.”   Borgakh got up from their makeshift bed and fumbled for something in her bag. Aza observed her partner’s firm ass with a nostalgic smile. Too bad, she hadn’t had enough of the Orc yet.   “Here.” Borgakh said, handing her a round object, looking away as if embarrassed. “A gift.”   “Damn, when did you get a hold of this?” Aza asked, accepting the item. It was a fine jade circlet with emeralds.   “I bought it from those Khajiit traders we passed on our way to Eastmarch. Don’t say anything more, just take it.”   They hadn’t slept nor talked until sunrise. Neither of them wanted a commitment, and yet they regretted they had to part. Falkreath was just a few days of walk away.   ---   “Gleda!” Ennis cried, pulling his arms towards his prized goat. “I can’t believe you got her back safe and sound!”   “No problem.” Erik sighed, rubbing his blackened eye. “Though that giant was less fortunate…”   “You killed a giant to get my goat back?!” The farmer was speechless.   “He was old and ill, so it wasn’t that hard. Still, I wouldn’t recommend fighting any giants.” The hero was about to leave.   “Wait!” Ennis stopped him mid-track. “You risked your life to get Gleda back, even though I didn’t ask you to.”   “No, but I overheard your conversation with my father this morning, and I thought I’d try to help.”   “And you surely deserve a reward. I have no money…” the man confessed embarrassed, but suddenly his face lit up. “But I have this!” He said, taking off an amulet he was wearing under his shirt. “Please, take it. I hope it brings you luck.”   “Thanks.” Erik said, accepting the gift. It was an amulet of the goddess Kynareth. Just by holding it, he felt fresh and rejuvenated. “I should really get going now.”   He passed the plot, heading towards the inn. He caught a glimpse of the shed in the back courtyard. He shrugged, remembering the intense night he… they spent there. The night he saw her in all her shameless glory and felt her warm, welcoming mouth. He looked away before he could break down and admit he missed her.   “Hey, Erik!” He heard a voice.   “Sissel, I almost didn’t recognize you.”   The girl had grown, her modest commoner clothes were obviously too small for her. As usual, she had bruises on her forearms, bud didn’t seem to mind.   “So, did you do a lot of adventuring?” She asked, her eyes were wide open. Her dirty cheeks bloomed.   “More than I could handle.” He replied, rubbing his scar. “I even saw a dragon.”   “Really?!” Sissel jumped. “What did it look like?”   “It was big and gray, but wasn’t scary. Just like you said.”   “Just like in my dream!” She almost burst into happy tears. “What else?”   “Its breath smelled.” Erik confessed, remembering how Paarthurnax grabbed him in his jaws to save from Alduin’s teeth.   “Da says you ran away from honest work with some crazy woman.” Britte said, appearing out of nowhere.   “Crazier than you can imagine.” He agreed, looking away. His eyes set on the infamous shed again.   “Why are you alone, then?” Sissel inquired.   “Because I don’t need a nanny.” He quickly replied, getting a grip of himself.   “Unlike Sissel!” Britte grinned cruelly, pushing her sister into the dirt. She spun around and ran up the road.   Sissel got up and pressed her fists to her mouth. She was on the verge of crying.   “She wants to see your tears.” Erik said calmly. “Go after her. You can fend for yourself, can you?”   “Sure I can!” Sissel snapped. “I know magic and everything! I can even make light in a dark room! And one day I’ll show everyone I’m not a wimp!”   “Then go get her.”   “Just you watch!” The child wiped her grazed hands in her skirt and chased after her sister. Erik sighed and entered the inn, just as the sun set over the plains.   “You’re not wasting time.” Mralki noted the blackened eye, going about his daily routine.   “No. Sitting around makes me… jumpy.”   “You can always help me with choirs.”   They stared at each other, then burst into laughter.   “I’m glad you’re in a splendid mood, pa.”   “That I am, Erik. Things are going smooth for me. Now, there’s something I wanted to tell you…” Mralki looked over his shoulder; the few patrons were dining too far to eavesdrop. “Listen… I know I did you a lot of harm by sheltering you for so long…”   “Pa, you really needn’t say anything…” Erik felt awkward.   “No, please, let me finish. I’m happy you’re your own man now. I won’t stop you when you feel you want to leave Rorikstead again.” The man rubbed his balding head. “I hoped to have grandchildren one day… But I’m not putting any pressure on you… I just want you to know, that when you decide to come back home and settle down, I’ll gladly welcome you and… Well, I’m not going to live forever. When I join our ancestors, the inn is yours. If you meet a level-headed person who will help you run the business, I will die a happy man.”   He bit his tongue, seeing his son tremble. Erik turned around, resting his palms on the counter, his nails sunk into the woodwork. He tried to breathe calmly, but it was loud and irregular.   “She left me.” He finally said, reaching for a bottle of ale under the counter. “She never gave me any illusions, and I was an idiot that I hadn’t seen it coming.” He chugged it all down. “But, still… I don’t know what to tell you, pa. I hoped I wasn’t just along for the ride, that it would be something permanent. I guess I’m still a bit naive. Funny thing is, she did it ‘for my own good’, would you believe that?”   “Erik…” Mralki sympathized, but didn’t know what to say. His son was always shy around women, so they never had this sort of talk.   “You were right. Women are devious creatures.” The bottle slammed against the wood. “I’m going upstairs, it’s best I try get some sleep early before I do or say something stupid.”   He left, avoiding looking him in the eye. Mralki forgot to tell him he didn’t pay for the drink.   ---   He shouldn’t think of her so intensely. After all, there were other women he bedded. Aside from Mjoll, there was Gilfre, a mill owner. Erdi, a charming young servant working in the Blue Palace. Julienne, a fascinating half-Redguard half-Breton commoner in Dragon’s Bridge. Salma, the aspiring young adventurer, not so different from himself… He also had a few offers, but declined either of respect or simply because the woman in question wasn’t his type. Like the witch Illia, whom he helped kill her own mother. Ingun Black-Briar, who although attractive had something sinister about her… not to mention she was the daughter of Maven Black-Briar. Or Dravynea, a creepy Dunmer living in Kynesgrove.   And yet, his thoughts always drifted back to the cynical Redguard vagabond. Anger and longing constantly washed over him. Although he made no effort to find her, he hoped that the next inn, the next forgotten ruin will be the place where they coincidentally meet. He had a whole speech prepared specially for that occasion.   He laid in bed, embarrassed by what he was doing. He masturbated until it hurt, as if he took a major step back, and was a horny teenager again. But he couldn’t stop, his frustration needed to vent. His greased palm moved up and down his painfully hard cock, his glans was red and glistening in the dim light. He fought his imagination as best as he could, but it stubbornly made him remember her pleasantly smooth skin with the occasional rough scar, the touch of her thick, jet-black hair, and the dirty things she whispered into his ear…   “Yeah, like that… No, no, no, to the left, idiot… Oh, damn just like that…!”   “Watch the teeth! No, wait, bite me. Mmm…”   “Slip your tongue inside… Gods, you do have a hidden talent!”   “Want me to swallow? No? Come on my tits, then.”   “Inside, come inside. I want to feel you melt in my womb.”   “I hate you so damned much…!” He grunted, jerking faster, focusing on his throbbing tip. Sperm shot agonizingly intensely from his grip, staining his hairs and palm. He fought for air, groaning as rage almost choked him. He felt little pleasure, only temporary relief. And despite laying in bed for hours, working his cock every once in a while, he wasn’t sleepy at all.   The air in his room was stuffy, he needed to catch a breath of fresh air. He wiped himself dry and flung his clothes on. Remembering every creaking floorboard, he silently snuck out of the inn into the balmy night.   The night was quiet and warm, not a cloud in the sky, the moons were shining like gemstones. He trotted a bit in place, before deciding which way to go. Ha briskly crossed the main road, heading towards the edge of the village, to the point where the path climbed up the hills. From there, he stared down at his home. Smoking chimneys, animals sleeping in their pens, the vast plains of Whiterun… This view once filled him with profound hopelessness. Now, knowing he wasn’t part of the landscape anymore, it made him nostalgic. And that meant one thing: it was time to pack up and get going.   He heard a cry. He listened in for a longer moment. No, it wasn’t a cat, it was a child. He looked over the edge of the cliff. The night was bright, he saw a small shadow hiding between a barn and the foot of the hill, sulking and crying. He quickly went back with a very bad feeling.   He was just a few steps from where the shadow was sobbing. The mooing of cattle covered the whimpering, but he also heard angry curses. It seemed he wasn’t the only one searching for the little runaway.   “There you are!” He heard a drunken voice. He had no troubles identifying it as Lemkil’s.   “No! Leave me alone, da, I don’t want to go!” The other voice was Sissel’s.   There was a curse, then a yowl. Erik pcked up the pace. What he saw just over the corner made his insides clench. Sissel was desperately trying to melt with the stones behind her, her dress was in shreds, she was also barefoot. Her nose was bleeding, her cheek had a fresh mark. It came from her father’s heavy stick. Lemkil was barely able to stand. He was shirtless, his pants were loose, almost slipping from his arse. He looked over his shoulder, noticing they weren’t alone. His face expressed pure contempt.   “Oh, it’s you. The little hero. This is none of your business! Get lost!” He mumbled, raising his hand to hit his daughter again. Sissel curled up in a ball, helplessly whimpering.   Erik took a step forward and firmly grabbed the stick’s other end. Outrage and hatred flooded his mind, then suddenly ceased, making room for cold, clear determination. He snapped into his less pleasant self, the Slayer.   “You sick son of a bitch.” He said quietly.   “You don’t get to judge me, you oaf!” Lemkil turned around and spat on Erik’s boots. “They’re my daughters and I get to do with them whatever I damned please! They owe me for all my hard work, I feed them and give them a home to stay. And all they do is eat and sleep, they might as well make themselves useful to me!”   Erik sharply pulled the stick, almost toppling Lemkil over. The man supported himself on the barn’s wall, sweat dripped down his chin. The stick was thrown far away.   “What, you want to play hero? Come on, your father apparently forgot how to slap a disobedient brat like you, I’ll do it for him!” He gnashed his irregular teeth.   Quick footsteps followed, then sharply stopped just behind Erik’s back.   “Britte?” Erik asked calmly, maintaining eye contact with Lemkil.”   “I’m here.” He heard the child’s voice. A voice that tried as best as it could to keep from crying or screaming.   “Take your sister and go home. Lock the door and wait, someone will pick you up.”   There was silence, Britte was a difficult one.   “Britte, he won’t hurt you. Go take your sister.” Erik tried again.   “Okay.” The girl said after a moment of pause. She made a step forward.   “I’m your father, you listen to me!” Lemkil yelled, Britte immediately retreated.   “You’re a coward, Brit.” There was a quiet voice. Sissel regained control of herself and stood up. She quickly sprinted towards her sister, grabbed her hand and the two fled.   “You ungrateful brats!” Their father roared in drunken rage. “Just wait until I…!”   A punch in the face knocked him on the ground. A sharp kick in the kidney forced him to roll to the side, just where Sissel was hiding a moment ago. Erik cracked his knuckles, approaching Lemkil.   “Don’t you judge me! Don’t you…!” Lemkil spat blood and saliva, staring at Erik with pure hatred.   “It’s not up to me to judge anyone.” He replied indifferently. “But I’ll be damned if I let you leave in one piece.”   Calmly and methodically, he kicked, punched and headbutted until Lemkil stopped breathing. Then, he took a deep breath, shook his head and patiently waited until someone comes by alarmed by all the noise.   ---   “So much trouble because of one little trinket.” Aza took Hircine’s ring, now free from the curse, into her hands and examined from different angles.   She was resting comfortably against a large werewolf’s side. The beast’s fur was light, almost golden. It turned its massive head and licked her bare ribcage, where a fresh cut just stopped bleeding. It was his claws handiwork, a small scar was inevitable.   “Yeah, you should be sorry, you ass.” She scolded, slapping his muzzle. “Battle-scars I have in abundance. Now, a love-scar, that’s something new to me.”    The werewolf grunted, snapping his jaw. His tongue curled lustfully. He quickly turned her over and pinned to the ground, his blood-shot eyes stared into hers. Aza yelped, feeling pebbles painfully sinking into her back and ass, but bravely stared back. She fought dragons, for Gods’ sake!   “Shouldn’t have taken off your armor, then.” He grunted ferociously.   “You’re going to talk, or work me a little bit more?” She asked with a sneer. Sinding, the werewolf, was a mate she never had before.   His sleek, purple member slipped between her wet, slippery thighs. Her legs were soaked in the beast’s thick semen. Aza muttered a curse, arching her back. This was crazy, borderline sick. She once met a temple harlot that lusted for large predatory felines, and as hard as she could, she couldn’t understand the harlot’s fascination with animals. A werewolf, however, wasn’t a mindless beast, and she thought she’d give it a try. She had no regrets so far.   She stumbled upon Sinding in Falkreath, where she parted with Borgakh. The werewolf’s case was gruesome and involved a child’s murder. It quickly turned out the cause of the whole grim mess was a cursed ring, with which the Redguard was later entrusted. In the end, she helped Sinding defeat a group of Hircine’s hunters, and refused to kill him herself, openly defying the Lord of the Hunt’s will. She would never murder and skin a man to pleasure a Daedra, she considered herself better than that. And she simply pitied Sinding. Eventually, Hircine was pleased and lifted the curse from the ring. The Daedra didn’t care who the prey was, the slain hunters entirely satisfied his lust for blood.   Sinding’s sharply pointed cock slid between her labials with little difficulty. Aza sunk her hands into his thick fur, the werewolf picked her up and wildly tossed in the air, jerking his hips faster and rougher. A serenade of curses and moans flew across Bloated Man’s Grotto.   “I’ll have you know I have the mind of a man, but a beast’s fortitude.” He said with a grin on his bestial muzzle. “This will be a long night for you.”   “Just don’t eat me once you’re done and we’re good!” She gasped.   “I’m not a monster!” He howled, ejaculating.   The amount and pressure was incredible, Aza could have sworn that some shot pass her cervix and streamed straight into her womb. She cried, her clit brushed against his rough fur hard enough to make her come as well. Sinding bit into her neck. Thankfully, he was mindful not to hurt her. Aza tensed, then went numb in his grasp. He released her, the woman rested on the ground in a puddle of cum. She was shaking and semi-conscious, but she knew this was just the beginning. She was grateful Redguards could regain their stamina faster than most races. She braced herself for a literally wild night.   Hours later, once Sinding was finally done with her, he let her catch some sleep on the bed of ferns. The next morning, Aza bathed in a cold stream, her muscles were hurting all over. Her mate brought her a deer he had hunted. As she baked it over a bonfire, he finally went back into his human form. It was hard to believe the unassuming man with receding hair was a Moonbeast.   “I want you to keep the ring.” He said, taking a large portion of venison and devouring it in mere seconds.   “I’m not a werewolf, I’ll gain nothing from it. Besides, you left me a nice scar to remember you by.” Aza replied, trying to adjust to a less painful position.   “I don’t want it either.” The man replied. The Redguard knew he was thinking about the child he murdered in a frenzy. “I decided to stay in the wild, I’m too dangerous to live among people.”   “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I agree.” She nodded.   She knew Sinding wasn’t himself, and it was the cursed ring that made him lose his mind. Still, she didn’t believe he could integrate back into society. One of the reasons she spared his life was that it was painfully obvious how he was suffering from guilt. A man’s conscience was his worst tormenter.   “I’m glad you didn’t kill me. I wasn’t sure if letting me live was a good decision, but I made up my mind on what to do now. I’ll keep a low profile for a while. Once it’s safe enough to leave this place, I’ll go on a hunt.”   “Hunt?” She asked cautiously.   “Yes. A grand hunt.” He smiled, brushing his blond hair back. “I won’t waste this chance. There are others out there like me. Others, that wouldn’t regret killing an innocent child just to satisfy their instincts. I’ll find them.” His eyes had a cold, steady gleam. “And rid the face of Nirn from them.”   “A cause as good as any.” Aza approved, chewing on the juicy meat.   She said her goodbye and left Sinding with a sigh of relief. He was incredibly intense, but she doubted she could keep up with his pace for longer than one night. She headed east to find more fame, fortune and adventure. At least until the money and booze run out.   ---   “What?” She muttered when her mare shook her head and turned left. “Oh, no!” She threw the bottle behind and held the reins firmly. “We’re not going to Rorikstead, honey! We’re…!”   She quickly consulted the map she had imprinted in her head. If she doesn’t pass Rorikstead, she’ll be forced to ride into the Reach. There were reports of increased Forsworn activity in the area. She was tired, still strained form playing with the werewolf. She was also a bit drunk, obviously in no condition to fight. The mare was sober, and that was the only good news.   The horse whined, digging her hoof in the soft soil.   “Fine!” Aza sighed. “You’re in charge now. Just get me wherever I can get a good drink and soft bed.”   She rested her head on the horse’s neck and took a short nap… which lasted until it got dark. She woke up at the sound of happy neighing and nickering. She raised her head, looking straight at the all too familiar bay mare. Erik’s horse.   “Aww, shit!” She gurgled, sliding off the saddle. With a cry, she fell to the ground. The two mares completely ignored her, busy with their greeting ritual.   The pen was next to the entrance of Frostfruit Inn. The door opened, letting out a beam of light. Two men walked outside.   “I don’t know what to do, Jouane.” It was Mralki, his voice drowned in sorrow. “It’s my boy we’re talking about, not some drunken thug. He did the right thing!”   “I know, Mralki.” The man named Jouane replied. “And everyone who has their heart at the right place would do the same in his place. But Whiterun falls under the law of the Empire. I’m sure he gets a fair trial.”   “Trial! He’s not a criminal! He’s…!”   Now did the two men notice a paint mare happily brushing her neck against the bay one’s. Behind her emerged a figure. As it stepped into the light, Mralki recognized the Redguard wretch he entrusted her son with.   “What the fuck did he do?” She asked, now completely sober.

Chapter 12 - Harlot with a Heart of Gold

  “This trip just keeps getting better and better.” Erik sighed, passing Kemon’s spyglass to Aza.   She took a look through the instrument. Mistwach was derelict, but still standing. Indeed, it was taken over by bandits as a few sentries were patrolling the crumbling walls. Judging by their weapons and armor, they weren’t anything the two heroes couldn’t handle. Still, they couldn’t tell how many of the outlaw scum were within the fort itself.     “It’s suicide to go in there now, while it’s bright.” The heroine assessed. “The place doesn’t seem too vast, but… It’s built around towers, so we’ll have to navigate tight quarters. We’ll need to wait for nightfall and take them by surprise.” She glanced over the horizon, but the sun had no intention of setting faster.   “I hope Excella and Talsgar make it until then.” Her partner wished, but his tone was far from optimistic.   “I’m sure they will.” Aza assured, not giving into fatalism. “A trained harlot and a bard are worth more undamaged. Unless these bandits are complete degenerates… Regardless, we’re leaving no one alive.” She swore, gnashing her perfectly white teeth.   “It’s like you’re reading my mind.” He agreed, adjusting the axe on his back. He had some frustration to work out and bandits were perfect just for that.   ---   Excella and that jovial bard hadn’t returned to the camp in the morning. Coincidentally, the two mercenaries departed after hastily wolfing down their breakfast. They left their horses behind, but armed themselves to the teeth. Papa and mama nervously paced around the tents, talking in hushed voices. The usually chatty women sat around the fire with Kazi, who seemed like she lost all the color in her normally radiant cheeks. Zia wasn’t a stupid girl. She was stubborn and impulsive, but not stupid. Something was up.   “Mama, what is going on?” She asked, when Kemon left Saabi to have a word with Abdal.   The woman smiled tiredly, hoping her daughter could not see how exhausted she was. She wanted to say something reassuring, but seeing the intense look in her daughter’s clever blue eyes, she decided honesty was the best solution.   “Excella and master Talsgar are missing. Our guides went to look for them.”   “With all their weapons?” The girl pointed out, offended how little the adults around her would want her to know.   “You can never be too careful.” Saabi tried to dodge the question, but she knew she wasn’t fooling Zia.   “Mama… Don’t talk to me like I’m a child. Papa already does that. There’s a war. There’s beasts. There’s bandits. They’re in danger… aren’t they?”   “You’re right.” The woman agreed defeated. Her daughter was smart, but also hotheaded. A dangerous combination. “They’ve been kidnapped and our guides are out to get them back. By force.”   “So, what are we going to do about it?” The girl demanded, clenching her fists.   “We wait.” Saabi explained patiently. “If our guides don’t come back in the morning with Excella and Talsgar, we have to move out.”   “That’s stupid!” Zia grunted, frustrated. “We have guards, why can’t we send them?”   “And what of our girls and your aunt?” Saabi asked calmly, hoping her daughter realizes how foolish it would be to send their guards on a rescue mission. “Do we want to leave them without protection?”   Of course, mama was right. As always, she was right. Zia’s cheeks got red form anger and frustration she kept bottled up for so long, ever since leaving Hammerfell.   “The waiting. Always the waiting…!” She whined, staggering back and shaking her head. “I’m so fed up with being a part of this. And I can’t even do anything!”   “I know, my joy. But for now you must be patient and trust your father’s judgement. However frustrating this seems, it will all be over soon. And when we get to Cyrodiil, I think it will be a good time to pick up your training.” Saabi offered. “You’ll have a craft for when you’ll be ready to venture out into the world.”   “If we even get to Cyrodiil!” The girl cried out, dashing away before mama could see her tears.   Saabi’s brows crossed, but she had not followed the girl. As with most things that got under her skin, Zia needed time to cool down and think this over. And she will be there for her to talk once she is ready.   But Zia had no intention of cooling down and thinking things over. She wanted to do something! Anything! Even if it was something utterly foolish and would surely put her life in danger. Those two adventurers… They headed out to retrieve Excella and the bard with surprising… cheer. As if freeing hostages from a group of outlaws was no challenge for them. And the things they talked about last night…   She made up her mind before reason could kick in. She ducked into the tent she shared with her parents, retrieving the knife Saabi used for herbs. She then crept across the camp, whistling at her pet hyena to join her at the adventurers’ tent. Cautiously, she looked around to check if she was being watched, but none of the adults paid her any mind, everyone was too deep in their own troubles. She crept inside the tent. The interior smelled of sweat and pheromones. Gross. The woman’s cape was left behind, she obviously didn’t want it to get in the way. Her scent lingered on the green piece of cloth. Perfect.   “Come here”, she beckoned her pet. “Smell!” She ordered, presenting the animal with the cape.   The hyena took a deep whiff of the green fabric. Her long tongue rolled out of her maw as she caught the scent of the two. Her eyes sparked and she bolted out of the tent with an almost human like giggle. Zia followed.   ---   Talsgar woke up in a small cell in what could only be an old imperial fort. Cautiously, he touched his face. The blood from under his nose already dried and thankfully his teeth were intact. Hazily, he recalled the events of last night…   He was blushing like a lad as Excella guided him further away from the camp for some alone time.   “I’m not sure if this is a good idea…” He voiced his concern when the two of them sat in the dark like horny teens out on a tryst. Though excited and incredibly aroused, he had a strange gut feeling they were doing something incredibly foolish.   “Don’t think about it now!” The harlot protested with vigor. “I am so tired of constantly looking over my shoulder!” She confessed, unlacing the front of her dress. She wore no bra underneath and yet the bard could see in the gloom that her breasts were wonderfully full and bouncy. “You have no idea how glad I am to finally do something on a whim.”   Her eyes and lips glimmered in the dark. Ravenously, she pressed herself against Talsgar. The bard gasped, pulling the woman closer. Closing his eyes, he allowed reason to slip away, whilst her tongue grinded against his.   Suddenly, she withdrew with a pained cry. Surprised, the bard opened his eyes. The harlot’s hair was held painfully firm by a cruel-looking Altmer, who was holding a dagger against her neck. A second later another blade pressed against the bard’s own throat. They were alone and helpless in the dark, at the mercy of two bandits.   “Well, what have we here?” The elf purred next to Excella’s ear, then a slid his tongue alongside her cheek. “You taste… expensive, my sweet. You’re smart and won’t scream, right?”   “Uh-uh.” Fighting a shriek in the back of her throat, the harlot choked and could only utter a shaky confirmation.   “Good… you be nice and you won’t get hurt. Now, let’s just get rid of the dead weight…” The elf coughed, signaling  the other bandit to take care of the inconvenience that was Talsgar.   “He’s worth as much as I am!” Excella gasped, thinking quick. “Unharmed, he’ll fetch you a nice price!”   “Really?” The Altmer doubted, eying the bard whose face was transfixed with fear. “He doesn’t seem like much to me.”   “You’ve never heard of Master Talsgar, from the well-known Bard’s College in Solitude? He’s a bard and storyteller like no other!” Excella assured. “He’s graced the halls of Jarls with his presence! The rich and powerful of Skyrim will shower you with gold if you spare his life!”   “We’ll see about that…” The elf gestured at his comrade. “Change of plans, we’re taking two. Please prepare the merchandise.”   The blade retreated from Talsgar’s throat. He was spun around and abruptly punched in the face, catching a glimpse of his assailant; a brutish looking kinsman. Blood spurted from his smashed lips. Then everything went dark and the last thing he heard was Excella’s soft, pained gasp and the Altmer’s angry hiss.   “If you damaged the merchandise, I’m telling the boss!”   How much time had passed? He was unsure, the dungeon had no windows, only torches to illuminate the damp gloom. Was Excella safe? He prayed to the gods she was still alive, though he feared the worst. That elf mentioned a boss… No doubt she was with him. He clenched his fists, feeling rage and helplessness wash over him. She saved his life, and now he was in this cell, powerless to do anything for her. But he had to play it cool, the bandit mentioned a price and that meant there was hope the outlaws won’t just have their fun and then kill them.   Hearing him shuffle and moan with strain, a bandit arose from a nearby chair. It was the damned High Elf. Talsgar pressed his lips tightly, observing the golden-skinned bastard approach.   “You’re awake, maestro!” The elf greeted with an insincere smile. “Good, I was starting to worry. Have you slept well?”   “Where’s Excella?” The bard demanded to know, grasping the rusty bars.   “She’s proving her worth to the boss. You know, I was passing by their quarters not so long ago. Judging by the ruckus they were making, I’d say she’s pulling her weight.” The elf revealed with a chilling smile. “And the boss left me with assessing your value.”   Talsgar tensed, watching the elf retreat to a nearby shelf and retrieve the most unusual item to be in this dingy dungeon; a lute. He approached the cell with the instrument, gesturing at Talsgar to step away, whilst he opened the door and unceremoniously threw the lute in the prisoner’s arms. He then quickly closed the cell again and got back to his resting place, reaching for a half-emptied bottle of mead.   “Sing, bard.” The elf commanded, resting back on the chair with a snark. “Sing for your life!”   ---   The bandit chief was a woman. But that didn’t make things less dire for Excella.   “We found them near the river. A whore and a bard.” The elf reported, after he and his partner dragged the two to an old derelict fort. Unconscious Talsgar was taken straight to the dungeons below and Excella was taken all the way up to be presented to an intimidating Nord woman in steel plate armor.   “Did you damage any of them?” The woman asked coldly, not taking her eyes off Excella.   “We needed to… docile the bard up. But he’ll be fine once he comes to.” The elf assured. Excella could detect a hint of fear in his voice. “He’s in the dungeon.”   “You better make sure that’s true.” The chief warned. “When he wakes up make sure he can sing something other than ‘Ragnar the Red’. Now leave us.”   The two were left alone in the bandit chief’s quarters. The room was circular with a small side room and sparse furnishing, although several emptied bottles served as decor. Excella remained silent, quickly analyzing the situation. The damned elf hadn’t let her lace up her dress properly, so she was forced to walk here with her tits bouncing carefreely in the breeze. Although cruel and arrogant, he didn’t want to risk angering his boss and hadn’t done her any harm, aside from painfully twisting her nipple, promising to take care of her after the chief is done with her. He was so preoccupied with describing in detail all the depraved things he was going to do to her, that he hadn’t noticed the harlot leaving her scarf behind, and then her shoe. Fool.   Now… what was so terrifying about this woman that she could command a group of bandits so effectively?   “So, little bitch, what should I call you?” The chef inquired, leaning forward, well aware she was towering over the Redguard.   Excella could sense the bandit chief wanted to have some carnal fun. She was prepared for anything, deciphering the small cues the woman in heavy plate armor unknowingly gave away. It was painfully obvious that one had some sexual frustration pent up, just waiting to be unleashed on someone.   “Whatever pleases you.” She replied, utilizing her most sultry tone.   Playing it sultry was a bad call as a second later Excella yelped, slapped in the face by the heavy gauntlet. The harlot fell on her knees, covering her reddened cheek with both hands. A bruise was inevitable, but thankfully the Nord woman did not hit with the metal backside.   “Let’s try this one more time. What is your name, slut?” The bandit demanded, standing over her, cracking her knuckles and ready to throw another punch.   This one did not want a smooth, complacent fuck, no. She wanted to feel in charge, to conquer. She wanted to feel powerful… fine. Excella bedded many people in her life. And they all had many different reasons to have sex. Pleasure, control, ego, dominance… She could adapt quickly to her mates motivations and needs and become the perfect vessel for their expectations. And this brutish woman was no exception.   “E-Excella!” The harlot cried out, scurrying away until her back met with a wall. “P-please… I’ll be good. Just don’t hurt me.” She begged, hoping to sound meek, but not too pathetic.   “That’s more like it.” The cruel grin on the Nord woman’s face told Excella she was on the right track. “I am called Fjola, but you’re going to call me ‘boss’, understood?”   “Y-yes… boss.”   The bandit kneeled, grabbing Excella’s exposed breasts for some brutal manhandling. The Redguard gasped and whined, but not because it hurt – the steel plate gauntlets were cold. Still, her reaction was genuine and that pleased her tormentor.   “So, you’re really a whore?” The Nord woman questioned, pinching and rolling Excella’s thick nipples between her steel-clad fingers.   “Y-yes.” The harlot whimpered, getting the chills.   “Did you whore yourself to any women?” The chief questioned further with perverse curiosity.   “N-no…” Excella’s golden eyes widened, which was not part of the act. She slept with numerous women, but never had to whore herself to any. “Never…!”   “Good! I’m going to bed you tonight, and I’m going to do things to you no man ever did. And if you do your best to please me, then I won’t share you with my boys like some common gutter tramp. So…” She mockingly caressed the harlot’s cheek.  “You better do your best to impress me.”   She pulled her up by the hair and brutally stuffed the harlot’s warm mouth with her tongue. Excella choked and gasped, the bandit’s breath smelled like meat and strong alcohol. She endured the slimy tongue squirming in her mouth, then shrugged when Fjola pulled it out and slid it down her neck, breathing heavily into her ear.   “Strip for me.” Fjola demanded. “I want to see something more than just your tits.”   Thank Morhwa! The Redguard had a faint realization that if it were Fjola to undress her, her clothes would end up in shreds. And she liked her dress, it was one of the few possessions she still had from Hammerfell. Fjola sat heavily on a solid wooden bench and treated herself to some mead. In the meantime, Excella pulled her dress over her head, then took off her chemise and finally slid down her warm wool stockings. She never wore underwear. Pressing her hands to her stomach, she looked away, letting the bandit ogle her front, then turned around, so Fjola could also assess her behind.   The chief whistled impressed. The whore had a fine body! Perfectly soft and curvaceous, every inch of it was made to play with and to give pleasure. Yes, she could fetch a nice price for her, possibly even sell her to a good-quality brothel in one of the major cities… After she’s done testing her out for herself.   “Get over here.” She ordered, taking off her heavy gauntlets. “Yes, good girl. Now have a seat.” She requested, patting her lap.   Excella shivered, sitting down on the steel greaves. The sensation of cold steel against her behind sent shivers up her spine. Thankfully, the bandit had removed her gauntlets before groping her again. She gasped and clenched her hand on the greave when Fjola unceremoniously reached for her crotch and stuck her fingers inside without warning.   “You’re tight for a whore.” The bandit noted surprised, thrusting her fingers in and out with some effort. “And wet.” She added with a hint of pride, coating her fingers in the Redguard’s slippery dews.   “Ah… please…” Excella whined, involuntarily spreading her legs. “It hurts.” She complained, biting her lip. How could someone who had a pussy herself have this bad fingering technique?!   “Get used to it because I’m just getting started.” Fjola grinned, pinching the Redguard’s ass with her other hand. “I’m going to make you sing.” She promised, daring to stick a third finger inside, pleased to have her captive squirm and her pussy resist. She wasn’t going to be this tight by the end of the night, Fjola was going to thoroughly abuse her snatch and leave her gaping.   “And how are you going to do that… boss?” Excella questioned, emphasizing the last word, knowing well she will regret her haughtiness. But she really just wanted to have it over with, by now she was certain Fjola had no skills, only a large ego and brute force. She bedded people like her before, the Nord woman was nothing she couldn’t handle.   “Know your place, slut!” Fjola took the bait, grabbing the harlot by her braid and forcing her to rest on her stomach between the steel-clad laps.   Keeping a firm grip on the Redguard’s hair, she took a powerful swing and slapped her round ass, conjuring a surprised cry form the woman. She gave her another slap, biting her lip, as the harlot arched her back and her impressive behind rippled from impact, a dark handprint now visible on her skin. With a frustrated grunt Fjola pushed Excella off and stood up. Holding the braid like a leash she pulled Excella to the side room where she unceremoniously threw her on a large rickety bed covered in a thick layer of furs.   The harlot landed face-first into the pelts, her yelp muffled by the furry layers. Never mind the spanking, she had it rougher, but that bitch nearly tore her scalp off! That hurt! Excella looked over her shoulder to see the wretched bandit hastily tear off her armor, eying her with a nasty grin. From where she laid, Excella could see how sickly pale the Nord was.   “Face down, don’t dare peek. I want this to be a surprise.” Fjola ordered through clenched teeth, impatiently freeing herself from her chestpiece, and proceeding to take off her greaves. “Unless you want me to make you sorry.”   Whimpering, the harlot obediently buried her face in the musky pelts, hoping, praying help was on the way. As long as nothing happened to the poor bard, everything was going to be fine. She could hear behind her the wretched Nord bustling around the room, whistling a jolly tune. A chest creaked, then closed loudly and Excella could hear the bandit curse, whilst fumbling with some… buckles? Just what was the surprise that got this brute in such a perky mood?   The tip of something textured and cold pressing against her exposed sex quickly answered that question. With a surprised gasp, Excella rolled on her back to see that Fjola was still grinning, but most importantly she was wearing an impressive ribbed strap-on carved out of mammoth tusk.   “Morhwa…” The harlot said breathlessly, overtaken by genuine fear. The bandit chief had no technique with her tongue and fingers, so no doubt she had no idea how to wield that thing too. She’s going to split poor Excella in half with that monster! “No, please… mercy!”   Chuckling, Fjola rowdily got on top of the Redguard, the length of the carved shaft resting between the harlot’s breasts, the tip jabbing her throat.   “Suck, bitch.” Fjola breathed heavily, getting off on the fear in the other woman’s eyes. “Or I’m going inside you dry.”   Excella gulped loudly, looking down at the thick ivory toy. She did some mental calculations – if she manages to somehow get in the mood and loosen up it shouldn’t hurt that bad. Her soft lips parted, as she gave the crown attention and zeal as if it were a real cock. Closing her eyes, she imagined she was sucking off someone else, anyone but not this brutish bitch. Someone like… like the big sister.   She involuntarily cooed, relaxing her jaw and taking the toy deeper down her throat. Yes, Aza would surely treat her right, the harlot was certain the adventurer would know how to wield this giant strap-on with finesse and give her a numbing orgasm. Or perhaps the other way around? Perhaps Excella would be the one to mount her kinswoman? Tall Papa, she could picture Aza’s strong body submit to her, allowing Excella to give her rough, yet tender loving. Oh, what wouldn’t she give to taste the adventurer’s mouth and pussy and to have her squirm under her agonizingly loving grasp.   And what about her cute companion? The young Nord was so intriguing! So… tall, broad and pale. And his hair was so beautiful, she wondered how it would feel between her fingers as she runs them through that red mane before getting a firm grip on it and forcing the strapping lad’s head against her clit…   Her pussy swell with excitement, releasing a generous stream of juices which lazily leaked out in a clear stream. Excella pressed her thighs together, rubbing them rhythmically, spreading her glistening dews between them. Gods, she was horny. She hadn’t been intimate with anyone in months and she was about to burst from bottled up desire!   “Do you like it that much? Nympho.” Fjola grunted mockingly, assuming it was the ivory toy that got her captive this riled up. She pulled the white cock out of Excella’s mouth to rub the saliva coated shaft against the harlot’s cheek.   Excella’s eyes snapped open. What a pity that after such a long time without sex she had to bed this rude bandit chief… Well, life was never fair. She remained silent, breathing heavily with saliva dripping from the corner of her mouth and her cheeks red, letting Fjola make her own assumptions.   The bandit seized her throat, sliding off her chest. She got between Excella’s legs, forcefully spreading them with her laps. The white tip met with Excella’s flushed labials, the grip on her throat tightened. The Redguard arched her back, bracing for the inevitable.   She gasped and groaned when the studded cock forced itself inside her in one powerful thrust. She tossed and turned, her nails dug into the hand pressing down on her windpipe. Through tears pooling into her eyes she shot Fjola a hateful glare as the wretched woman retreated and rammed herself inside her again, groaning in pleasure when the other side of the toy hit against her womb equally hard.   “Go ahead, cry.” Fjola laughed, leaning over the Redguard. “I love the sounds you make, whore.”   Excella whimpered, getting dizzy form lack of oxygen. But Fjola was not merciful enough to allow her to lose consciousness. She wanted the harlot to stay awake through the whole ordeal. She released Excella’s throat, her rough palms grabbing her by the thighs instead, her nails digging into the silky skin. Brutally, she forced the other woman down against the carved ivory. Excella shrieked, her pussy, though wet, was violently stretched to accommodate the double-tipped dildo. Fjola groaned, this couldn’t be enjoyable for her either. It was the conquest, the dominance that was giving the Nord pleasure.   “How does it feel? Tell me!” She demanded, spreading the Redguard’s thighs wider and leaning over her, a bead of sweat dripping from the tip of her nose onto Excella’s cheek.   “I’m dying…!” The captive cried, fighting for air. The ivory cock was unrealistically thick and the carefully carved studs were brutally grazing her walls. “Y-you’re ripping me!” She screamed to her tormentor’s delight.   “Take it, slut!” Fjola groaned, completely giving in to her primal desires. “I’m going to fuck you until you’re red and raw inside!”   She pulled out and flipped Excella on her stomach, pinning her wrists on her back. The harlot loudly inhaled when the tip of the dildo encircled her asshole. Though coated in her juices it was too big for anal! The pink hole tightened with anticipation, Excella let out another pathetic cry, knowing well what the pause meant. Fjola wanted to savor the moment before absolutely destroying her ass.   ---   “What the…?” One of the bandits sharply turned his head to the darker side of the courtyard. He could have sworn he heard something move over there. An animal? Or maybe someone was foolish enough to try and take on Mistwatch?   He signaled his comrade to stay alert and with his weapon drawn he approached the crumbling stone arch that served as a gateway. He was so focused on getting a better look in front of him, that he hadn’t thought of minding his step. As he passed the arch, he lost his footing on a primitive trap; tripwire. He fell into the darkness, straight at the tips of two beautifully crafted Nordic swords. The ebony blades pierced his chest and the bandit died without uttering a single word.   Aza shook the body off her blades with a displeased grumble, whilst Erik readied his crossbow at the remaining bandit. With just one pull of the trigger the courtyard was safe for them to enter.   “I love this thing!” He whispered, amazed for the hundredth time of how useful the crossbow was. “Too bad I’m low on bolts…” He sighed, switching to his trusty axe.   They made their way into the fort, listening for any bandit activity. But it seemed the outlaws were not aware of the intruders, as the fort was silent save for the sound of blowing wind and the occasional drunken chatter. The heroes cleared out a small side room, slitting the throats of two more bandits who were unfortunate enough to be sleeping in a drunken stupor. Then, they advanced up the spiral stairs.   As they made their way up, Erik heard the familiar sound of a crossbow being readied, just a few steps behind them. Quickly he turned around just in time to see three more bandits creeping up on them.    “Watch out!” He warned, shielding his partner’s back from an incoming shot with his axe. The bolt bounced off the dragon bone, doing the weapon next to no damage.   The Bosmer shooter lost all color in his cheeks, his hands trembled and he would most likely turn around and make a run for it, if he weren’t backed up by two Nords. He had a crossbow, and that meant one thing – he had to have bolts too.   “Oh, sneaky fuckers, aren’t ya?” Aza taunted, slowly descending the stairs with her swords ready. “Care to dance, boys?”   “Y-you!” The elf finally managed to speak, his eyes wide with panic. “I know you!”   Aza gnashed her teeth, pleased by the effect she could have on people.   “I know him too!” One of the Nords gasped, taking a step back. “That’s Erik the Slayer! We’re fucked boys!”   Aza’s eyelid twitched hearing cheery laughter behind her. She dashed forward with a frustrated cry, slashing the elf’s throat, then kicking his blood-gushing body, toppling the Nord who dared wound her pride. The bandit fell down the stairs accompanied by the sound of breaking bones. The heroine would surely pay for her outburst if it weren’t for her companion, who jumped in just in time to parry the remaining bandit’s shield bash aimed directly at her head.   “Fuck him up Erik!” She screamed, her voice burning with rage.   Wasting no time on finesse, he took the low ground, plunging the axe into the man’s gut, then mercifully pulling it out and ending his suffering with a swift decapitation.   “Did you hear that? I got a reputation!” He boasted, kneeling to search the dead elf. “And I got bolts!” He exclaimed with joy, retrieving from the bandit’s hip a pouch with precious crossbow ammunition.   “Erik…” Aza’s warned, grinding her teeth, “I swear if you don’t wipe that grin off your face I’m gonna…”   Excella’s distant pained shriek echoed through the stone halls, reminding the pair of adventurers why they came to this Gods forsaken ruin in the first place. They shared a look and nodded, regaining their sense of purpose.   ---   “No, please!” Excella shrieked, for the first time giving into blind panic. “I’ll do anything, just spare my hair!” She swore fighting tears pouring into her eyes.   Fjola laughed, pulling the harlot’s thick braid sharper, forcing her to painfully bend her head backwards.   “Beg, bitch!” She roared, thrusting disharmoniously, feeling the other end of the strap-on hit hard against her own dripping cunt. “Or I’ll shave your entire head! I’ll sell your hair to the best wigmaker in Solitude and make a fortune!” She swore, laughing hysterically, slapping the Redguard’s round ass.   “Morhwa, help me!” Excella cried, shutting her eyelids tight, tears streaming down her reddened cheeks.   The goddess must have listened to her desperate plea, as the painful grip on her braid eased and the disgusting woman withdrew along with her strap-on, sharply pulled back by no one other than Aza. The heroine threw the bandit on the stone floor with a disgusted grunt, whilst Excella squeaked and scurried to the corner of the bed.   Fjola wouldn’t hadn’t gotten this far in her life as an outlaw if she could get jumped that easily. Wasting no time, she got on her feet and took a powerful swing at the heroine. But Aza was in no mood, blocking the punch with her hand, dishing out a hit of her own, plunging her fist into Fjola’s stomach. The bandit chef gasped and choked, falling to her knees only to get kicked in the face, her head hitting hard against the stones.   “Bitch.” The heroine grunted with pure contempt, stepping on the bandit’s throat. “Yeah, not so fun when you’re up against someone your own size, huh?”   Fjola’s hands gripped Aza’s leg, but the Nord woman hadn’t enough strength to push the heavy boot off her throat. She grunted and gurgled, growing redder and redder in the face from lack of oxygen. Not wanting to stretch the confrontation for any longer than necessary, Aza stomped Fjola’s throat, crushing the bandit’s trachea and allowing suffocation to do the work for her.   “Don’t be cruel…” Excella pleaded, still whimpering. “Make it quick.”   Despite being beaten and abused by the bandit chief, she did not want revenge? What an odd harlot Excella was! Without protest, Aza showed Fjola mercy by swiftly sinking her blade in the Nord woman’s eye, putting her out of her misery.   “Are you okay?” She asked concerned, shoving the body aside with a kick.   “She threatened to cut my hair off!” Excella complained, coiling her braid around her hand and pressing to her chest as if it were made of pure gold.   With the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of the cute red-haired Nord standing at the door, his back facing them. Perhaps he did so out of respect, or more likely to make sure no one was sneaking up on them. It didn’t matter though, as Talsgar was not with him.   “Please!” The harlot begged, reaching to touch Aza’s side. “The bard, they’re keeping him in the dungeon. We can’t leave him!” Her golden eyes met with the mismatched pair of green and white. “I won’t be able to live with myself if something happens to him!” She tried to stand up, but was still feeble from the torment she had to suffer. She would surely fall over her own feet, if Aza hadn’t supported her.   “Save your strength. We still have a long way to walk back to camp.” The heroine said in a comforting tone, laying Excella back on the bed. “We got this. Erik, can you…?”   “I’m on it.” The hero replied, reluctantly leaving the two to get the bard. He had a bad feeling about splitting up, but Excella was still in no condition to walk and leaving her alone would be foolish. He’ll have to be quick.   ---   “What was that?” The Altmer wondered, gazing at the dungeon ceiling, as if he were expecting any clues on the cracked stone. “Ah, who cares! Probably the boys blowing off some steam. Month’s been rough.” He concluded, drinking straight form the bottle, his third that night. “I didn’t tell you to stop playing!” He roared, throwing the now empty bottle at the bars of Talsgar’s cell. The glass shattered, spraying tiny shards in all directions.   Talsgar gripped the cheap lute tighter, playing the first tune of a more eloquent melody, popular amongst the nobles of Solitude. He chose that composition specifically, as needn’t use his voice which allowed him to do some thinking. Whatever was going on upstairs wasn’t just a brawl amongst bandits. Help has arrived! Thank the Divines the High Elf was too drunk to distinguish the sounds of real assault from primitive infighting. Regaining hope, he kept playing, though his fingers were sore and his back hurt from standing stiff for so long. But he had to keep the elf entertained.   “Oh, Excella! Just hang in there a bit longer and it will be all over soon!” He thought wistfully. “Where are you going?!” He asked out loud, abruptly ending the song, as the wretched elf suddenly yawned and got up.   “To get myself some more refreshments.” The Altmer replied with a drunken smirk, almost slipping on one of the several empty bottles. “Mind your tone, bard.” He chuckled, waggling his finger at outraged Talsgar. “Or I’ll send you to the boss in place of your little whore friend. You won’t be able to sit properly for at least a week after the kind of fucking she’s getting now.”   He laughed menacingly, leaving the cold, dank prison. Talsgar groaned, tossing the instrument away, gripping at the bars. He rattled them in helpless anger, but he knew his outburst was of no use. All he could do was stay sharp and hope that whoever was sent to save them was going to turn up victorious.   Seconds stretched into minutes when he could hear movement. Someone was cautiously creeping down the stairs. Suddenly, a battle cry was heard, then curses and the sounds of a scuffle. A shape appeared in the stone entryway; it was one of the bandits, the dim-witted looking Nord who accompanied the damned Altmer in the woods. He was desperately clutching his throat with eyes wide with shock. But it was no use, blood was gushing between his fingers and the outlaw collapsed to his knees, looking up at Talsgar with desperation in his eyes… almost as if he were pleading for the bard to do something, anything to save his wretched life. He gurgled, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his hands went numb, just like the rest of his body. Silently, he fell face down on the stones, dead.   Another figure stepped out of the dark staircase. Talsgar cried with relief, recognizing Erik. The hero surveyed the prison with cool professionalism, before deciding he could enter safely. He stepped over the body paying it no mind, wiping his bloodied dagger against the leather of his pants.      “Thank the Gods! I knew someone would come!” The bard rasped, for the first time allowing himself a glimmer of hope. “Where’s Excella?” He asked, realizing the hero came alone.   “She’s safe. I came down to get you so we can leave this hole.” Erik assured, examining the bars. Yeah, those looked rusty enough… “Step aside.” He warned, reaching for his favorite weapon. The dragonbone axe rose and fell, the rusty lock gave away with a metallic moan. Talsgar was once again a free man. Free, but not yet safe.   “Thank you!” He exclaimed, stepping out of the cell and taking a deep breath, despite the air of the dungeon having the same rank quality as the one he was breathing just a moment ago. “Did you take care of that damned Altmer?” He asked viciously. “I hope you made him suffer!”   “There were no high elves on my way.” Erik declared, confused.   “Then we’re not safe yet.” Talsgar whispered feeling a chill going down his spine.   ---   Zia gagged, but managed not to empty her stomach at the sight of the first body. The bandit laid on his side with a large, still fresh pool of blood under him. His scantly hide armor exposed two wounds on his chest. He was killed with a pair of swords. She clutched her mother’s knife tighter, cautiously looking over the corner. She gasped and put her hand over her mouth when she noticed a second body just a step away from where she was standing. The second bandit had a bolt sticking through the neck. She whimpered, trembling, instinctively taking a step back.   Her pet hyena nudged her side with a weak giggle, somehow reassuring the girl. Zia took a deep breath and stepped over the body, entering the courtyard. The heavy wooden doors leading into the keep were left ajar, enticing her to step in and risk her life. A feeble voice of reason told her to go back to her parents, but she was away from the camp for far too long. Surely, by now they discovered her disappearance. So, she might as well carry on with this foolishness.   She pressed her cheek to the stone wall and peeped into the opening. She couldn’t hear anything aside from the cracking of burning torches and wind blowing through the crumbling halls. She couldn’t hear any fighting, which meant the two adventurers most likely advanced further into Mistwatch… or were already slain and looted of their weapons and armor… No, of course they were alive. They had to! It wouldn’t make any sense if they’d die so suddenly and pointlessly. Right?   “Hide and wait for me.” She ordered her pet. “Don’t you give me that look! I’ll be fine.” She assured, not believing her own words.   The hyena cocked its head and stared at the girl with dumb glee, drooling and completely oblivious of how dangerous and thoughtless this whole situation was. Zia nodded and cracked a confident smile, feeling absolutely no confidence at all. Only the stubborn need to push forward, however badly she wanted to turn back and run. The wood creaked and she was gone, entering the ruined fort and whatever lied within.   She kept close to the shadows, avoiding the flickering pools of light the torches cast. Stopping every now and then to listen in, she snuck past the entryway, reaching a set of spiral steps. She could either go up or down. Her gut told her not to go down. She wiped the sweat off her forehead with her cold, clammy hands. She long realized how stupid she was in her bravado. What did she want to achieve exactly, aside form defying her parents? The best case scenario was that she finds the pair of adventurers victorious… and then what?   Whatever the outcome, she was fucked. By her own volition.   The stairs were sticky, she needn’t look down at her feet to know why. The smell of blood was overpowering. And gods, the bodies. Three of them. One with his head smashed open on the stone steps. The other guy had his throat slashed. And the third one was missing his head. That young Nord and the brutish kinswoman… they were efficient. Too efficient to be simple vagrants with blades for hire. Could they really take down a dragon? Perhaps there was truth in the conversation she overheard them having last night. There was definitely something more to them. But now, seeing their handywork, she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know more about them.   Zia was so preoccupied with studying the three dead bandits that she hadn’t noticed she was being watched. She was too surprised to act when a hand closed around her mouth and a second hand painfully twisted her wrist. Her mother’s knife fell down the stairs with a hollow ring.    ---   “So… Kemon must be furious.” Excella guessed, lacing up the front of her dress. “I’m so sorry. This was all my idea and all my fault!”   “That’s not for me to judge. We just came here to get you back to camp safely.” Aza replied, stuffing Fjola’s body under the bed, per Excella’s request. The harlot didn’t want the bard to see the bandit chef’s corpse… and the unsightly sex toy around the dead woman’s hips.   “I’m glad you came.” Excella confessed warmly, remembering the fantasies she had of the adventurer to help her get through the ordeal with Fjola.   “Sure thing. You think you’ll be able to walk all the way back? I can carry you.” Aza offered, too tired to notice the lewd spark in the other woman’s golden eyes.   “I’m fine. I’ll be bruised for a few days, but she didn’t do me any real harm.” Excella assured carefreely. “I can take care of myself. It’s the bard I’m more concerned about.”   “You’re one if a kind!” Aza laughed, impressed how collected the harlot was after what she just went through. But mostly by how she cared more about the safety of the stupid bard, than her own. Truly, Excella had a heart of gold.   “I hate to ruin whatever it is between you two.” A cold voice called and a high elf stepped out of the shadows catching them both off guard. “But I must insist that you lay down your weapons. Or I’ll have to cut this young life short.”   Aza froze. Zia! Her Zia…! He had a knife against her throat! The girl was paralyzed stiff with fear. Her eyes were wide, uncontrollably leaking tears. Her lower lip trembled, but she couldn’t even whimper. All she could do was lock her bright blue eyes with Aza’s silently begging the heroine to do something.   “Don’t you dare…!” Aza’s voice dropped as she felt ice in her chest and her muscles go rigid. But she daren’t make a move.   “I’m not afraid to kill a lass.” The elf warned. “You, whore. Take her weapons.” He ordered, confident he was completely in control.   “It’s okay.” The heroine assured, hearing Excella take in a loud breath behind her back. “It’s going to be okay. Just do what he says.”   With her hands trembling, Excella disarmed Aza and kicked her blades to there the elf was standing. Could she use the Voice? No, whatever Shout she’d use would also put Zia’s life in danger. Her eyes… Gods, she was looking at her the same way she was looking over ten years ago that horrid night in the desert. Scared out of her mind, only able to cry.   “I’m glad you’re reasonable. Whore, the boss had leather strips in her dresser. Get them and tie the big girl’s hands behind her back. ” The elf barked, pressing the knife to Zia’s throat. The girl jumped, biting hard on her lip to keep herself from screaming. “These are mighty fine swords. They’ll fetch me a good price.” He taunted, drunk on power.   “What’s your plan, elf?” Aza asked through clenched teeth, allowing Excella to bind her without protest. She hoped to stall him for as long as possible. Where the fuck was Erik?!   “Well, it looks I’m the boss now. Thanks for your help!” The Altmer replied with a whimsical smirk, seeing Fjola’s pale leg sticking from under the bed. “I think I’ll drink to celebrate. Then, I’ll have some fun with the whore. You know what? Fuck it, I’ll take the girl too, it’s a special occasion after all!” He laughed, conjuring a disgusted croak form Zia. “Oh, and I’ll have the bard sing for us while I enjoy my plunder! And then-”   The sound of a well-oiled mechanism triggering cut his rant abruptly. The elf’s mouth opened wide, his right eye bloomed red, a stream of blood trickled down his cheek. He closed, then opened his mouth again, but no sound came, only more blood. The knife slipped out of his numbing hand hitting the floor with a clang. Zia dashed away, falling into Excella’s arms. Then, there was a thud as his body followed, hitting the floor face-first with a bolt lodged into the back of his head.   “I got the bard.” Erik said quietly, standing at the doorframe with his crossbow now lowered.     He crossed the room and approached his partner, ignoring everyone else. Her eyes… it was like she wasn’t here, but in a dark place, revisiting some horrible memory. In the meantime, the bard ran into the room, bombarding Excella with apologies. But the harlot was too preoccupied with calming Zia down, holding her tight in her arms, offhandedly swearing to Talsgar that she was fine.   “Let me untie you.” Erik offered, his voice snapped Aza back to reality. She remained silent, but nodded. He couldn’t read her face at all. He could only imagine the pain she was going through, now that everyone was safe. He got behind her to undo the bindings. Gods, she was stiff and completely still. He couldn’t make anything of that. “Let’s just get out of here. Okay?” He said softly.   “No. You three go ahead.” She replied colorlessly. “Please… just leave me with her. We’ll catch up with you. I need to do this. Alone.”   “You got it.” He agreed, then cleared his throat loudly to catch the attention of the room. “Let’s get a move on.” He ordered, sharply pulling the bolt out of the elf’s skull. He had to conserve ammo, bolts were rare and the trip wasn’t over yet.   “Yes, let’s get out of here.” Excella agreed with relief, releasing Zia. “Lead the way.”   Zia, now more or less collected, shrugged and sheepishly followed Excella to the exit, but the adventurer woman’s sharp whistle kept her in place.   “Not you. You stay.” Aza ordered sternly and Zia’s shoulders tensed because she knew it was her the woman was addressing.   Excella and Talsgar shared looks but seeing the look in the heroine’s eyes they followed Erik out without protest. In the meantime Aza paced around the room, paying Zia no mind. The girl wiped her teary cheeks furiously, awaiting the inevitable scolding. She crossed her arms, looking as defiant as a young girl could. But Aza wasn’t impressed. In fact, she really wasn’t paying the girl any attention at all.   “Well… aren’t you going to say something?” The girl dared, watching the woman retrieve her weapons. “Because you don’t have to say anything. I know what I did was stupid… But I don’t care! I’m tired of being treated like a child! No one lets me do anything!” She snapped, growing uneasy by the quietness of the adventurer.   Aza took a deep breath with her head bent back and eyes peering into the ceiling. She needed to calm down and gather her strength to go through with what she needed to do. She can do it. She has to do it, no matter how much pain it will cause her. She gripped her swords firmly, approaching the girl that she gave birth to. But instead of yelling at her, she unexpectedly tossed her one of the blades. Zia managed to grab the weapon, but had no idea what to do with it. Aza struck without warning, parrying her child’s feeble attempt at blocking, knocking the weapon out of the girl’s unsure grasp. Pushing at the unarmed girl, she cornered her. The Nordic sword swished in the air, the tip halting at an angle, just below the girl’s ribcage, inches from her franticly beating heart. Their eyes locked, Aza’s face betrayed no emotion. Zia was overtaken by shock, then fear.   “Do you have a death wish?” Aza asked, more exhausted and defeated than furious. “Because I can help you, just one good push and it’s over.”   Zia’s lips parted, but she couldn’t utter a word. In that moment she was positive that crazy woman would do it if she’d dared talk back. From this up close she could count the individual cuts on Aza’s face.   “I don’t care why you came here. You being stupid is not my problem.” Aza went on. Her hand remained steady as she pressed the tip of the sword into the girl’s chest, just enough for Zia to feel how sharp the weapon was. “You have no idea how lucky you are to be alive. How damned lucky you are to have people watching your back. Because when you’re out in the world alone, you can only count on yourself. And you… you can’t do shit. You can’t protect yourself.”   “Shut up!” Zia screamed, red in the face with childish fury. “You’re not my mother!” She breathed loud and fast through her mouth, her nose was blocked from all the crying. She withstood the indifferent look in Aza’s mismatched eyes, shaking violently form all the emotions she just went through.   “An attitude won’t save you when your life is on the line. But you’re right. I’m not your mother.” Aza said, her voice oddly hollow. “You’re Saabi’s problem, not mine. Now get moving, we have a long trek ahead of us. And for the love of the Gods, don’t run. I don’t have the energy to chase you.” Despite her best efforts, her tone sounded more like an exhausted plea than an order.

Chapter 6 - Round Two

“Did you miss me?” She asked, undressing. She put her neatly folded clothes on the chair, remaining only in her boots and stockings. After a moment of thought, she decided to put on the wet panties. “Like the air” her husband replied. “… Mistress” he added obediently, as Caye slid the soaked panties up her slender calves and thighs. “How do I look?” She asked, gently tugging her small dark blue nipples. “Good enough to eat” Farkas said in his low, hoarse tone. There was still a bit of an animal in him. “It’s good I have you restrained, then!” His beloved laughed, sliding her hand alongside his chest and abdominals. She took it back as her fingers met with the first hairs growing on his underbelly. Farkas sighed aggravated. She approached her tool array and fumbled for something, he dared not guess what she was looking for. And although it was uncomfortable as Oblivion itself, he didn’t complain about the ring and urethra plug, though he started to feel numb pain. He focused all his will on keeping himself together, breathing calmly and not trembling. He hadn’t noticed when she approached him with a piece of soft, red rope. “More bondage! Are you happy?” She asked playfully. “Like a piggy in the mud.” He answered defeated. More ropes. Oh joy. “You’re a doggy not a piggy” she corrected, pinching him hard on the nipple. Farkas frowned but said nothing. Caye proceeded to tie his loins to the pillar so that he couldn’t thrust his hips. She knew how to work ropes, he couldn’t move. She saved two long loops at both sides of the column. She had an idea of what to do next. She felt wonderfully… inappropriate wearing panties completely drenched in his saliva. She could still fell the warmth of his mouth. But she had to stay focused. “Do you know why some people enjoy being bound and controlled?” She suddenly asked in her calm, businesslike tone. “To please the other?” He guessed. The damned plug was a growing annoyance. “That too. But ironically, some people feel they’re truly free when they’re in bonds. They stop pretending and are truly themselves.” She quickly took a mirror from a nearby shelf. “Look at yourself.” She commanded quietly. She didn’t need to raise her voice. Farkas looked at his reflection. His war paint completely rubbed off, he felt less comfortable without it than he did without clothes. His hair was disheveled, one streak got into the corner of his mouth. His cheeks were still a bit red from the whipping. He looked humiliated, strained and incredibly aroused. His eyelids were bloodshot, the look in his irises primal. His wife awoke instincts he thought he purged from his heart. As it turned out, some vestigial animal part was still there. Who was he now, man or beast? “I’m not pretending anything.” He said slowly, trying to refrain from growling. “Perhaps. Or maybe you’re so deep in denial that you fail to notice? No need to explain yourself, if you experience some major breakthrough it’s going to be yours only. I won’t ask, I won’t judge. But I will make you suffer it as intense as possible. Keep looking.” She ordered, pulling the Prince’s Wand out, the ring was removed immediately after. He sighed deeply with relief, his reflection did the same with pathetic glee. Just as he was about to look away disgusted of himself, Caye took the mirror away. Her little hands reached to his family jewels. He felt soothing coolness; she used a weak frost spell on her hands to give him some comfort. His scrotum immediately shrunk, his penis stiffened. That felt good. “I don’t deserve all the care you give me, Mistress” he muttered relaxing. “I think I’ll overlook you talking without permission this time.” She purred genially. She bend her knee and took his whole icy member into her mouth. Its warmth was a numbing contrast to her freezing hands. She thoroughly massaged his curved shaft with her tongue and tonsils, looking up to see his expression. He could never hide anything from her in bed… well, on the pillar in this case. She knew how to work that little mouth and sharp tongue. But he couldn’t bear being so passive. He wanted to grab a handful of that red hair and slide his fingers down the back of her neck. Damn her, maybe she wasn’t doing anything extreme to him, but she knew how to make him frantic. “What do you want Dog?” She asked, pulling his cock out of her mouth. She gnashed her little round teeth. She wanted him to beg. “You…!” He bit his tongue. Devious little creature had him wrapped around her thin little finger. She licked the shaft from base to tip before releasing it. She stood up and turned around, with her back facing him. She reached behind and held the sides of her panties. The mesh tore as she ripped the part that covered her vulva, the puckered lips were shamelessly exposed. His heart stopped for a second. She then reached behind her to grab the loops at the sides of the pillar. Pulling herself closer, her shapely round ass met with his lower abdomen, his member was at its favorite place; between her legs. He could feel the juicy slit on his foreskin. He was going to lose it soon if he doesn’t feel her from the inside. Caye smirked, pulling herself even closer and straightening her back. Her forehead brushed against his jaw, his rough stubble scratched her skin. “Your tongue in my mouth. Now.” She instructed, closing her soulless eyes. He obliged. Grunting in strain, he slid his tongue into her waiting mouth. She was grinding her back against his chest, making his frustration even direr. He wanted to do something, to touch her, feel that agile body bend and twist in pleasure. This subtle torment was unbearable and yet he didn’t want to stop. He could say the safety word anytime, but he wouldn’t. The game sucked him in. She suddenly broke their kiss and abruptly bent forward, her behind pressed painfully against his groin. His cap finally met with the wet, hot flesh. But she suddenly halted. Gods! He was almost inside. “Damn it, stop teasing me, woman!” He said without thinking. In return, she stabbed his foot with her thin ebony heel. “Silence!” She hissed, though she wasn’t surprised he was so impatient. That was why she tied his loins so firmly. He wanted to thrust his dick deep inside her tight elven pussy, but he was at her mercy and whim. Good thing for him, she wanted him inside as well. But she wanted to tease him a little bit further. She moved her bum up and down, teasing his tip and almost ripping his heart in two. But she didn’t want to be cruel to her husband. Slowly enough to drive him mad, her pussy slid down his whole length. She quietly moaned feeling his veined member filling her vagina and stretching the slippery walls. No Mer could ever match a Nord! Farkas tilted his head backwards, feeling the familiar tight and warm body enveloping him. She was his, all his. But damn it, why couldn’t he do anything?! Caye bend forward even further, supporting herself on the ropes. Her pussy pushed back and forth, riding him energetically. He observed the muscles of her back and shoulders and her little ass bouncing back and forth. It was hard to believe that quiet and well-mannered woman had such imagination and zeal in bed. “That’s not fair…” he complained. “What’s not fair?” She teased, stabbing his foot again. He wasn’t sure, but he had the feeling he was bleeding a bit. “I couldn’t give you at least a courtesy lick!” “Aren’t you sweet…” She whispered, looking over her shoulder. Candlelight glimmered in her black glossy eye. “And what are you going to do about it?” She inquired, pushing her ass against him exceptionally hard, his glans hit against her cervix hard enough to cause her pain, but her face remained calm. It was obvious he couldn’t do anything. But… he could do nothing. Yes, she was his Mistress tonight and he had to obey her, but she didn’t say anything about passive resistance. He focused all his will on regaining full control of his body. Controlling pain and strained muscles was no challenge for him, he knew how to work his body in heavy armor and he had reasons to believe he was the best in all of Skyrim. He held his breath, closing his eyes and warding himself from her lovely moans. He ignored her smell and touch, shutting all his senses away and focusing on achieving complete tranquility. People took him for dim-witted, and they were probably right. But what most didn’t realize, was that Fakras was a man who mastered controlling his actions and reactions. “What in…?” Caye muttered feeling something she never felt before. He was going flaccid! “What in Oblivion are you doing?!” She asked angered, pulling out. His massive cock hung its head completely soft. The warrior himself was gazing into her eyes with calm indifference. “I’m sorry, Mistress. This never happened before.” He said with faked regret. “You…!” She hissed, releasing the loops and turning to face him. She grabbed him by the jaw and pulled down to meet with her little sharp face. “Either you get hard this instance, or I’ll make you remember this night as the most humiliating in your life!” She threatened, growing angrier with every second. How dare he?! She knew he did this on purpose! “I have no idea how this happened, Mistress.” He lied calmly. She slapped him but the look on her face was worth it. For the first time since they met he really got to her. This game was getting fun! “You… You damned Mutt! Do you know what I’m going to do to you now? I’m going to collar you and shove a rectal plug with a wolf tail in your rear, then parade you all over the house! I’m going to make you eat from a bowl on the ground, sleep on the floor and…” She realized she lost her temper. And that was something a dom could never allow to happen! She lost her own game! She, a spy, liar and deceiver lost to a simple-minded warrior! “Transparent.” Farkas said calmly. The game was over. He won. “You tricked me!” She cried, punching his chest. He didn’t even blink. “I just introduced my own rules, love.” “I hate you.” She said looking away, feeling anger mixed with embarrassment. “You look sweet when you’re pissed off at me.” He said softly, as she was untying his hands. He freed himself from the bonds on his loins and feet himself. Meanwhile, Caye was busy tiding her supplies, her hands were shaking. “Here” she said handing him a small clay jar with ointment. “For any damage I’ve done to you.” “Thanks, love” he said cheerfully, he was in a splendid mood. “Oh, stop pouting” he murmured, pulling her closer as he sat on the chair, paying no mind her robes were underneath. “This was a disaster!” She sighed, hanging her head. “You’re talking as if the night was over.” He said, narrowing his bluish gray eyes. “Oh? And what do you propose?” “We can have it the traditional way.” He said with a wink. “It was fun to learn something new and kinky about my little wife, but I’m still in the mood. And so are you.” He noted, seeing her nipples erect. “Well, I… I’d love that. The usual nice and boring way.” “Boring?” His brows crossed. The little tease was at it again. “Care to prove me wrong?”

Chapter 7 - Grand Escape

Aza woke up late in the morning to find a note slipped under the door.   “One month from now – B.” She read out loud. The cryptic message meant Cynric will get Erik out of prison in just thirty days.   She tore the letter into tiny bits. She was feeling better, more hopeful, but still strained. She packed in a hurry, there were still things she should take care of.   She caught a glimpse of herself in the dirty mirror on the wall. The custom Nord Hero armor was superb, Eorlund was a master of his craft. The dark green cape fitted it perfectly, so did the jade circlet with emeralds. The glass swords were an icing on the sweetroll. Her face on the other hand… nothing new at first glance, no new scars or wrinkles. But she had deep shadows under her eyes, as if she spent several days worrying and had little sleep. Which was not far from the truth. She slept badly and spent her waking hours thinking about only one thing; getting her Erik out of jail. She stuck out her tongue on her own reflection, and walked out of the room.   ---    The Rift was one of her favorite holds. Birch forests and warm climate gave her a bit of ease. She knew Erik’s fate was in good hands and he was as good as free, it was what will happen afterwards that bothered her. He could travel anywhere he’d want, except for Whiterun hold. Will he leave immediately, or will he want to find her? Of course he will be looking for her. He probably hated her guts now and wouldn’t miss a chance for a confrontation.   “Halt!” A woman’s voice called out.   Aza instinctively pulled her blade out, holding the reins with the other hand. Two figures approached. A man and a woman clad in outlandish robes, wearing strange skull-like masks. She felt her sixth sense tingling. Those two were trouble.   “State your business!” She demanded, eying the two.   “Are you the one they call Dragonborn?” The woman asked sharply.   The heroine grinded her teeth. Not this Dragonborn bullshit again! She had more pressing matters to take care of!   “Dragonborn? You mean the legendary hero of the Nords?” She snarled. “Take a wild guess.”   “Are you or are you not?” The woman behind the mask grew impatient. Her partner got dangerously close to the horse. The animal neighed as a warning.   “No, I’m not. You got the wrong person.” Aza knew her attempts to lay them off were futile.   “Not only a deceiver but also a coward!” The man was fuming. “The real Dragonborn comes, you are but his shadow!” He raised his fist, flames slipped through his fingers.   “Lord Miraak rises! None shall stop him! Death to you, impostor!” A dagger appeared in the woman’s hand.   Aza gave in to blind fury. This was one if those days you just wanted to go Merethic on someone’s ass. She kicked her mare’s sides with a wild shriek. The horse stood on its hind legs and dropped on the male attacker. The ground shook. His mask and skull cracked open under the heavy hooves.   The woman managed to dodge a wide slash of the glass sword. Aza let out another wild cry, throwing the blade at her with all her strength. The sword pierced the flesh just above the pelvis. The woman screamed, her blade slipped out of her grasp and disappeared in the thick blanket of ferns.   The adventurer dismounted her horse. She walked up to the assailant; the woman’s robe was soaked in blood, she was in agony. Later, Aza regretted she allowed herself to be this pointlessly brutal. She grabbed the handle and twisted the blade. The woman screamed again.   “You picked the wrong bitch to mess with.” Aza’s voice was full of anger she kept bottled up for so long.   “I am expendable! More will come!” The cultist behind the mask swore.   “The more the merrier.” The Redguard kicked the mask between the eyes. The woman’s nose broke with a loud crack.   She kept kicking until the woman stopped grunting in pain. She took a step back, gawking at her handiwork. This wasn’t necessary, she could just kill her quick and without excess pain. She felt disgusted of herself, but could not deny that felt good, relieving. She searched the bodies. The only item she took interest in was a note found on the man.   “Well, this just keeps getting better.” She growled after reading it. Solstheim? She heard of it, but never took interest. It seemed someone on the frozen isle harbored a grudge against her. Lovely.   The paint horse dug in the ground with her bloodied hoof, nudging the dead cultist’s body. She whinnied with sorrow, she never killed a person before.   “I’m sorry, honey.” Aza stroked the mare’s side. “There should be a stream nearby, let’s get those hooves clean, what do you say?”   The horse’s mild brown eyes looked at her with profound wisdom known only to equines. She then shook her head and let the Redguard mount her and ride off, away from the unpleasant scene.   ---   “Prisoner, you got a new cellmate!” The guard opened the barred door and shoved a new inmate inside.   Cynric’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the gloom. The cell was small, but he seen smaller. And thank the Divines, it was dry and didn’t smell too bad. There was only enough room for a bunk bed, a table with two stools bolted to the floor, and a bucket in the corner.   A figure on the bed moved and sat up. The first thing he noticed about the client was his face. Putting the scar aside, this wasn’t the face of a criminal. And those eyes! Brynjolf was right, Erik was a stud. What a shame he didn’t appreciate rough manly bonding.   Erik eyed his new cellmate. Breton, dark hair, lean. His posture gave away no fear, this wasn’t his first time in jail. A thief, no doubt about it, his alert eyes and confidence weren’t of a common cutthroat.   “Breaking and entering.” Endell said with pride, getting into his role. “With a side of burglary.”   “Murder.” Erik replied indifferently. “The top bunk is free. I don’t gamble, I don’t do skooma and I’m not much for conversation. Keep your distance and we’ll be fine.” With that, he lied down with his back facing Cynric.   “Well, this is going to be interesting.” The Breton thought, climbing up to his bunk. Making contact at this point was futile. Besides, there was half a month left, enough to explain the situation. He gasped, forgetting he wasn’t supposed to lie on his back yet. His ass still felt the Guildmaster’s recent pounding. Bryn decided to visit him again just before the Breton left Riften.   ---   Sundas, the one day they let the prisoners bathe. Jarl Balgruuf was a merciful ruler, allowing five minutes of bath once a week for those prisoners, who weren’t entirely unpredictable. The guards phlegmatically leaned against the stone walls, observing the inmates washing themselves with cold water coming directly from the underwater streams.   As usual, there were at least three long steps form Erik. The other prisoners avoided him. Some did so because they considered him innocent; he was an outsider in their eyes. And some wanted nothing to do with a prisoner whose case aroused so much political debate.   Cynric tried to memorize every detail of the room. Just like in the plans he was provided with, the underground washroom was built into a natural cave that went deep under the city. There was, however, one passage even the jailor himself didn’t know about. But that was irrelevant now.   Erik dried his hair. The prisoners weren’t trusted enough to be given razors, so in time his stubble turned into a regular beard. How long has he been here? About… six weeks? He was slowly loosing track. Most of his days were spent on either exercising or sleeping. He wasn’t a recidivist and he hadn’t shown any signs of violence, so every other day an elderly man would pass by his cell and offer him a book from his cart. He read the less scandalous biography of the Dunmer queen Barenziah and some horror stories. Other books he had either read as a lad, or had no interest in.   The water was cold, good for the blood flow. He felt someone’s eyes on him. Unsurprisingly, it was the Breton. Endell smiled and looked away. Great, this was just what he needed, an admirer.   Only one week remained.   ---   The next night, after his evening exercise routine, Erik was laying on his back, staring at the mattress above him. His cellmate was enjoying a late-evening read before lights out. He had dreams again. Vague enough to forget, but intense enough to haunt him awake.   He could only suspect Sissel and Britte were under Jouane and his father’s care. Lemkil’s house was probably empty, slowly gathering dust and cobweb. What happened to his belongings? His axe and armor? Pa probably hid his stuff and cherished like holy relics. He should sell the axe and spend the money on things he needed around the inn. He could fetch a nice price for ebony.   When he was first thrown into his cell he could hear the guards debating amongst themselves. It was him they talked about, then Skyrim’s overall situation. The conversation quickly turned into a fiery argument, and then a brawl the jailor himself came down to break up. Ever since, things were silent.   His future was uncertain, and that made him more hopeless than a death sentence. He came to realize he’s going to be stuck here for a long time. Or until the civil war is over and someone finally decides what to do with him, which was very unlikely.   Where was she? Wandering somewhere aimlessly? Savoring a drink in the back of some inn? Having wild, casual sex with some random mate? She could be anywhere, maybe even off Skyrim. She could also be dead. Or worse.   He pinched himself on the sensitive skin on the inner side if his upper arm. Every time he thought of her, he spiraled down straight into utter misery. What wouldn’t he give to have her within arm’s reach now! He’d give her the hard truth of what a bitch she is. He’d tell her how much he hated her and then punch her straight in the face. He would then spit on her and walk away. And he wouldn’t look back.   He realized there was silence, no sound of turning pages. He glanced at the Breton. Cynric was looking straight back at him like a collector observing an interesting specimen.   “Out with it.” He said tiredly. During those few days, his cellmate had made no attempt to talk to him or engage in any other form of contact. He just kept staring, which was even more unnerving.   Cynric closed his book and with unnatural speed pounced at him. Aside from jailbreaking, he was also infiltrating dungeons to assassinate targets, so he knew how to attack with no sound.   “Shh…” he whispered, covering the ginger’s mouth and deflecting his kick with his knee. “Our mutual friend sends her regards.” Endell quickly explained, seeing the clear blue eyes narrow dangerously. This one wasn’t someone you could stifle. His hand backed away.   “Who sent you?” Erik hissed, clenching his fists.   “I think you know who.”   “The bitch.” Aza! She knew! Oh, so now she sends help, after cutting him loose and washing her hands?   “If that is what you call her.” The jailbreaher shrugged his shoulders. “We’re busting out next time during wash-up. Keep close to me if you want your freedom.”   “And in return?”   “Everything’s been arranged and paid for.” The Breton explained. “I think a guard is looking. Hit me.”   The adventurer needn’t hear that twice. Endell fell off the bed and hit the floor.   “Okay, okay, I get the message!” He shouted dramatically, pressing his palm to his jaw. “I’ll leave you alone!”   He then got on the top bunk and hadn’t spoken a word. The cell was as silent as a grave.   ---   The remaining days passed painfully slow. Erik had a lot of time to do some thinking. She knew, which meant she was either in Whiterun or… Rorikstead. During those weeks she managed to hire someone (no doubt a Guild associate) to bust him out. So, she did care. Or maybe she just wanted to prove how dependent he was of her, even though they were living separate lives for several months.   Cynric made no mention of the night’s brief conversation. In truth, he avoided Erik for the sake of realism. He felt actual excitement as Sundas was getting closer and closer. Maybe he was retired, but he was still in top shape.   Finally, the guards rounded the prisoners up and escorted them to the washroom. Erik quickly glanced at his cellmate; Cynric was looking straight ahead.   The prisoners discarded their ragged clothes, collected rough bars of unrefined soap and headed towards the washbasins. The spring water was colder than ever. Endell trembled, weighting the bar of soap he was provided. It was heavier than one would expect. He scrubbed himself thoroughly until he felt the outer layer dissolve, uncovering a hard, round object. This was it. He glanced at the client. Erik noticed the Breton’s incisive stare. He motioned closer. The guards and prisoners hadn’t noticed anything yet. It was now or never.   Cynric scooped a small glass orb out of his bar. The room was filled with thick, choking smoke the moment the orb smashed against the floor. Erik gasped and choked, someone grabbed him by the wrist. Before he could punch that someone, he was sharply pulled where there should be a wall. But instead of slamming against stone, he sunk into moldy-smelling darkness. There was a quiet scraping sound, after which the turmoil in the bathing room was almost completely muted.   “Shh…!” He heard a whisper next to his ear.   He saw a flicker and sparks. Then another one. Finally, a torch illuminated the darkness. Both he and the jailbreaker were in a cavern. There was a stream lazily flowing through its center, disappearing in a dark corridor.   “Where are we? What just happened?” He asked bewildered.   “We’re in one of the many escape routes from Whiterun, my friend.” Cynric explained. He paused, listening in. The commotion behind the secret door was quieting down. “There’s no time to lose. I doubt they’ll find the hidden switch, but I’m not taking any chances. Here” he handed him the folded rags he managed to snatch. “We’re getting dressed and follow the current.”   Erik pulled on the roughspun tunic and tattered pants. Footwear was an unnecessary luxury, so he had none. He followed the jailbreaker down the stream.   “What was in that ball?” He asked, looking around. If there were any beasts sulking in the dark, he couldn’t see them. They were exposed and defenseless in the sphere of light.   “In the business we call it ‘Nocturnal’s Bedsheet’.” Cynric replied. “You needn’t know more.”   “So, I guess you won’t tell me who smuggled it in the soap, and how you found that torch?”   “No.”   “Will you at least tell me where are we going?” Erik grew impatient. He hated feeling left out.   “To a safe place. Trust me, I’m a professional.” Cynric assured.   There was a nauseating crunching noise underneath the Breton’s feet. Cynric shone before himself. He stepped in a dried-out, web-ridden carcass, which could only mean one thing. They heard movement above. The torch’s flame was reflected in hundreds of black eyes. They entered a frostbite spider nest. Snapping of mandibles and trotting of hairy legs followed, magnified by the echo. The torch hissed when a drop of goo dripped onto it from the ceiling. The spiders lowered themselves, outstretching their disgusting legs. The smell of fresh blood woke them up from hibernation, and they were hungry.   “Well, this wasn’t on the map…” The jailbreaker laughed nervously.   Erik made a step back and felt a rock under his foot. He quickly picked it up and threw at the nearest arachnid. The spider fell off its web; the stone hit it right in the eyes. It gurgled, kicking madly in a hopeless attempt to roll off its fat abdomen.   Endell snapped out of it. He knew what to do the moment he noticed a tangled knot of web blocking their path. Few people knew how flammable frostbite spider webbing was. The torch was thrown across the nest, jamming into the exact center of the knot. A burst of flame erupted, for a second the entire nest was as bright as in the middle of day.   “Go!” Cynric rasped, bolting.   Erik followed, ignoring the sights before his eyes; a boiling mass of burning spiders. They ran in the dark, ankle-deep in freezing water. Soon, the only sound was their exhausted breathing. They halted, drank from the stream and cooled their sweaty foreheads.   “I’m getting too old for this.” The Breton complained. “Good thing we’re almost there.”   They marched in the cold, damp void, accompanied by the sound of dripping water. Before time could blur, Cynric suddenly stopped. Erik bumped into his back, almost toppling Endell over.   “What now?” He asked alerted.   “We’re here.” The Breton said. “This is where the stream pours into an underground lake. It’s not too deep, so we should make it.”   “We’re diving?” Erik had his doubts.   “No other way out.” Cynric replied. “If you want, you can go back, or stay here and feed on blind underground fish for the rest of your life, like some grotesque creature.”   “How far?” He gave in.   “You’ll manage on one lungful of air.” There was a crack, the Breton must have been stretching. “Don’t think, just dive and keep swimming until you reach the bottom. Then straight ahead, there’s a grotto that goes right into the White River. Once you’ll meet with the current, resurface. I’ll see you on the other side.” With a loud splash the jailbreaker was gone.   Erik didn’t dwell on his situation. He took a deep breath and jumped in the water. It was icy, even for a Nord. His lungs were crushed by the cold, his skin stung, his hands and feet were on fire, but he sucked it in and kept swimming. Freedom was just moments away. When he reached the bottom, he kicked off, swimming forward. He started to feel his ribcage convulse, his mouth got bitter. He needed air. Some escaped from the corners of his mouth and fluttered away. His elbow got grazed on a stony wall; he entered the grotto. He could feel the walls closing in on him, he’s going to get stuck! He’ll die here! When hope almost abandoned him, he saw the end of the tunnel. He worked his numbing arms and legs, his lungs burned in response. He was on the verge of gasping for air and choking with water. He entered the current, getting swept by it. He could see the surface! He kicked off the bottom, he needed just a few more seconds… Just a bit, just…   He bobbed up, fighting for air. He made it! Snorting and spitting, he swam, then raced to the shore. His knees were weak, so he crawled. When he felt grass under his palms, he fell on his back and rested until his head stopped spinning.   “What took you so long?” He heard his rescuer joke.   “You do not want to see me get up from here.” He heaved.   “I do, actually. It’s not over yet. Come on!” Cynric ushered.   Erik sat up. Before him were the plains of Whiterun with the city itself. Behind him was a pine forest. From where he sat, he could catch Dragonsreach between his fingers and squash like a bug. He now knew how much did he miss fresh air and space. He was weary, but hadn’t earned his rest yet. He followed Endell into the woods, still dripping water. Soon, the path started winding up.   “We’ll soon part, but you’ll be in good hands. You should lay low for a day or two, then you can go wherever you please. Well, except Whiterun.” Cynric said, making no noise on the dry twigs and cones.   “Great.”   “You can expect there’s going to be a bounty on your head, so try not to catch anyone’s attention. You already stirred enough commotion on both sides of the war.” The Breton went on.   “Mhm.”   “You got a mighty fine ass, by the way.”   The fugitive halted, giving the jailbreaker a dazed look.   “Who goes there?” There was a woman’s stern voice.   “A courier. I got the package.” Endell replied, his face still had a sly expression.   “Come forward.”   The men entered a small clearing. In the dark stood a tall figure of a woman. She had neither torch nor lantern to light the darkness.   “As you can see I delivered the package safe and sound.” The Breton assured.   “I can see that.” The woman’s voice was cold. She tossed a bundle before Cynric’s feet. “Here’s your gear… thief. Now begone.”   “Good luck, friend.” The jailbreaker bid, picking up his belongings. “Try to stay out of trouble.” He advised, retreating.   “Thanks.”   “It’s what I do.” The Breton’s voice was now heard from a distance, though Erik could have sworn he hadn’t heard him move. He was alone with the woman.   “You must be exhausted.” She said in the dark. “My house is not far away, let’s get going.”   They marched until they saw lights of a small settlement. The village was quiet, sound asleep. The few guards patrolling the main road were half-asleep themselves.   In the dim light Erik could see the woman was indeed tall and broad. He couldn’t see her face from under a linen cowl she wore. She signaled him to wait and looked over the corner, then pulled him to the back of town. They reached an unremarkable house. The woman looked around before knocking three times. Warm light slipped from the inside as a boy opened the door. They quickly entered, shutting the door behind.   The woman took her cowl off with a relieved sigh. Her hair was golden, her eyes crystal blue. Her cheeks were red, though her skin was light. She had large, heavy breasts and birthing hips. She was the picture of a healthy, fertile Nordic woman.   “Where’s your father?” She asked the child strictly.   “In the inn, just like you told him.” The boy answered.   “Good, good. Seat our guest, I’ll be right back.”   Erik was seated at a long dining table. He looked around; the interior was plain and homely, it was obvious this was home to simple, hardworking people. He relaxed, finally feeling safe. He didn’t want to think, he needed sleep and perhaps something to eat. He noticed the lad’s intense stare.   “Yes?”   “Are you a Stormcloak?” The boy asked, getting closer. “My uncle is a Stormcloak. He used to hide here from the Imperials, but now he’s fighting in Ulfric’s army.   “No, I’m not a Stormcloak.” Erik explained tiredly. Goodie, rebel supporters.   “Are you an imperialist, then?” The boy’s arms crossed.   “No, I’m an adventurer.” He hoped the answer will satisfy the kid’s curiosity.   “My ma says adventurers are good for nothing vagabonds, who don’t care what will happen to our land.” The boy pointed at him accusatory.   “Frodnar!” His mother appeared behind him. “Bed, now!” She ordered, slapping his behind. The lad yelped and ran out of the room. “Forgive him. He’s a bit nosy.”   “I’m too worn out to bother, ma’am.” He dismissed.   She placed a platter and cup before him. The food was simple, but he wasn’t picky. He was hungry like a wolf and hadn’t had anything decent in his mouth for a long time. He tried to remember what was the last thing he ate as a free man, but his memory failed him.   “We have some time to talk now.” She said, sitting opposite to him. “My name is Gerdur, I own the mill here in Riverwood.”   “Ah, so I finally know where I am.” He acknowledged with his mouth full. He grunted, food was getting in his beard.   “I can’t imagine what you must have went through in the Jarl’s dungeon. But you are safe now.” Gerdur comforted, though he needn’t any comfort. “I know all about you and what you did. You spat the Empire in the face that day, and for that you have a friend in me. You…” She started rambling about honor, freedom and the likes.   He remained silent, phlegmatically chewing on what was left of his food. He now noticed she had large, red hands, no doubt from working the lumber all day long. Her eyes were burning with fever, as her speech escalated.   “I didn’t spit in anyone’s face.” He interrupted, growing tired of her tirade. “I protected two girls I’ve known since they were babes. That’s all there is to it. The war is none of my concern. Now” he picked a piece of meat from his bushy beard, “what did she do to convince you to harbor a fugitive?”   “She and my brother escaped Helgen together.” The woman endured his cold gaze. “But even if I didn’t owe her, I’d still help. Like it or not, you made a stand and I applaud, even if you don’t appreciate it. You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you like.”    “I won’t overstay my welcome. I’ll be gone first thing in the morning.” He assured, already feeling an itch to get out in the open.   “If that is what you wish, I won’t stop you. But I advise you leave after it gets dark. Are you full?”   “Yes, thank you.”   “Then come with me, I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”   Gerdur approached and opened a large wardrobe. She pushed a false back panel aside, revealing narrow steps leading into darkness. She lit a lamp and descended into the dark. Erik followed, unsurprised she had a hidden cellar.   The room was small, dry and not stuffy at all. The light of the lamp licked the walls, conjuring shadows all around. Gerdur placed the lamp on a shelf and bid him goodnight, pointing at a package in the corner. But Erik was preoccupied with a familiar dark figure laying on the bed. His heart started beating faster, as he approached the frame.   ---   “Did you miss me?” He asked, tenderly running his fingers along the familiar ebony curves and angles. “Because I missed you.”   She didn’t reply, she was an axe after all. He enjoyed the cool of the volcanic glass for some more, before putting her against the wall and focusing his attention on the package. It contained all his gear, personal items and travelling essentials.   “Well, I’ll be damned.” He laughed, putting on Kynareth’s amulet. He immediately felt cool relaxation, as if the goddess herself eased his troubled mind.   He unpacked the rest of his things. The armor was there, so was the simple shirt and undergarments he wore underneath. He got rid of the rags he had to wear in jail, and welcomed the fresh linen material with glee. He then noticed the Skyrofge Steel dagger.   He took it in his hands and examined its condition; the blade was still sharp. He grabbed a handful of his beard and cut it off. He continued doing so, until he felt more or less groomed. He almost screamed with joy, uncovering another precious item; his mare’s brush. This could only mean she was nearby, ready to ride off to another adventure.   He noticed a new item; a black leather hood to match the armor. This could be useful, since he couldn’t show his face to anyone. He heard rustling when he minced the wonderfully soft leather. Inside the hood was a folded piece of paper. He felt the floor slip from under his feet, he knew well who was the note from. He sat on the bed, before he tripped over his own weak feet.   “Want to yell at me for everything I’ve done to you? I’ll be waiting where I met Jarl Ulfric. Only for two days after your grand escape, then I’m gone.” He read out under his breath.   He crumpled the note, before setting it aflame. The wretch was just within arm’s reach. Oh, he’s going to go to Helgen. And he’s going to do some yelling, then some punching. But first, he’s going to thank her for spinning the whole plan to bust him out, only to prove how much he needs her. After all, why did she go through all the trouble to free him? He rejected the attachment hypothesis. Why push him away, then act like she cared? No, this was about pride and dominance.   Women, pa was right all along.   ---   It was obvious Gerdur harbored fugitives before. In the morning her son brought him water, soap and food, asking if he needed anything. Erik only asked if his horse was okay. The lad confirmed and was gone the next second. Gerdur’s husband Hod also came to pay him a visit. The man wasn’t as obsessed with the rebel cause as his lovely wedded. He merely wanted to know what Erik planned to do next. He was pleased to learn the adventurer intended to leave in the evening and stay out of Whiterun.   The day slowly rolled towards sunset. Gerdur came around the time shops closed and the fair folk of Riverwood were either home or at the inn. Erik was waiting, geared up and eager to go.   “Are you ready?” She asked.   “I can’t wait.” He grinned alarmingly.   “I’m guessing you two have a complicated history.”   “You have no idea how. But there’s nothing a good aim can’t fix.”   “Men! They don’t grow up, they just grow bigger!” The woman slapped the back of his head as if he were a whelp. She then shook her head. “Laddie, anger is the worst advisor.”   “And a great anesthetic.” He talked back, putting the hood on. He couldn’t see for himself, but most of his face was now obstructed in shadow. He felt like his old self again, clad in his armor, with his axe on his back and dagger on his hip.   Gerdur muttered under her nose, leading him out of the house. They crept to the back of town, near the road heading south. She led him for a few more yards, until he heard familiar neighing. From behind the shrubs appeared Frodnar, leading the bay mare by the reins. Once the horse saw its master, it nearly pulled the boy on the ground, happily trotting towards Erik.   “My girl!” He welcomed, patting her neck. The horse rested its head on his shoulder.   “She looks much better now.” The woman noted. “She was so miserable for the past few days. Frodnar, home.” She said, nodding at the boy. The lad was gone the next second.   “Thank you. I don’t have any gold…” Erik apologized. He suspected all his money was safely in his father’s hands. Good, he couldn’t think of a better place for it.   “If you’d offer me money, I’d be insulted. You’re not bad, if a bit sullen, and I was glad to help. I packed you some food, it should be enough for three days. I don’t know what you’re planning, but good luck. Talos be with you.” She bid as a farewell.   “Talos guide you.” He said reflexively.   Erik mounted his horse. The world was once again all his to roam. Well… except for Whiterun. But he was free. He rode straight for Helgen. With every passing tree and rock, his heart grew colder.   ---   Helgen was a ghost town. The ruins of houses and businesses were nothing more than burned-out husks. What little of value remained after Alduin’s attack, was long picked by scavengers. Soon, bandits sought the town as a perfect hiding place. When they grew in numbers, the Jarl of Falkreath had a team of his men march in and kill every outlaw in sight, impaling their corpses on spikes as a warning. Ever since, Helgen became a true ghost town, with the occasional fugitive or beast seeking refuge in the desolated keep.   The chopping block was still standing, as if nothing had happened. The traces of the executioner’s axe were still distinctive, although the rain and snow washed away the bloodstains. It started to snow. The type of snow Aza hated the most; little shards of ice combined with strong wind. She shielded herself from the cutting wind with her cape, finding little comfort.   It was long pass midnight and still no signs of him. Did the heist go wrong? Impossible. It was more likely he didn’t want to see her. No… He wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to give her a piece of his mind. And a piece of his fist as well. He’ll come. She wanted to have this unpleasant business over with and head straight for Solstheim. She learned in the past how unwise it was to ignore her role as the Divines’ chosen. Though, that didn’t change the fact she wasn’t too happy about it.   Instinct told her she wasn’t alone. Someone was staring at the back of her head. She felt shivers down her spine. Amazed, she realized she was too scared to turn around.   The Redguard harlot hadn’t the courage to face him! What a surprise! He was just a few long steps from her, and already he felt his insides torn apart. Oh, but that would only give her satisfaction. No, he’s not going to give her the pleasure of seeing him in pieces.   “You know I’m right behind you, so let’s skip the greetings.”   Aza tiredly spun around. Daedric Lords, he was more furious than she expected. Furious enough to be so cold and cruel. He hadn’t made the slightest move, only kept staring with that gleam. This wasn’t him. Or maybe he changed during those months apart.   “Ancient Nord Slut armor? Some things never change. Well, start talking. I know you have a whole speech prepared for this occasion.” He said coldly.   “Speech? No… more like a retrospection.” She gave up and hunched her shoulders. “You know, this is where it all started. Right here…” She pointed at the chopping block. “It was my turn to get a smooch from the headsman’s axe. I was on the verge of going insane from fear, but there was no point in fighting, the only guy that tried running got shot in the back. I think… I think he was from Rorikstead, you know?” She kicked the side of the block. “I got on my knees and rested my cheek where the blood of the previous unlucky bastard hadn’t died yet. Suddenly, I was calm. When you know nothing can change the inevitable, you find solace. I thought of the great dunes of the Alik’r Desert. I relaxed, waiting for the final chop. But it never fell.”   Her gaze shifted towards the ruined tower. She frowned, remembering everything with clarity. She never had dreams about Helgen, the city’s destruction haunted her in daylight. She had other horrors to plague her dreams.   “Then Alduin rolled in and breathed fire. Some were fortunate to die on the spot. Most hadn’t been that lucky… And how they smelled.” She glanced at him and gave a weak ironic grin. “And do you know what the Dragonborn, the fabled heroine, the chosen of the Gods did? I pissed myself. My mind went black with terror I’ve never felt before. I pissed my pants and couldn’t move a muscle. I was lucky in my stupidity; one of the prisoners noticed me, pulled me up and punched in the face. That was enough to get me back in the game. I ran with piss dripping down my crotch. I doubt the bards will ever sing about that one time Dovahkiin’s bladder gave in, but it’s the true story… So, how was prison?” She asked casually. “Any admirers?”   “I should have guessed you’d turn everything into a joke.” He spat. “Well, go on, gloat. I know you want to. Go on and tell me what a fool I’ve been, getting into trouble without you. Tell me how much I needed you to get me out. Because we both now I’m not worth squat without you.”   “Go fuck yourself, you’re not my problem ever since Markarth.” She rebuffed, expecting such accusations.   “How could I forget Markarth…” Without his will, his hand reached behind, gripping the axe’s handle.   “That’s how you want to settle it?” She deftly reached for her swords.   “Why not? I’m an outlaw, a murderer, who knows what might cross my mind?”   He acted on impulse. The blade rose and fell. She dodged; the axe’s strike was futile, conjuring sparks against the chopping block. He regained balance in a second.   “Bullshit. You don’t belong in prison and you never will.” She got into a defensive stance.   “What does that supposed to mean?!” He yelled, angered.   “You’re too good to be rotting in the Jarl’s dungeon.” She grinded her teeth. “I’d never let that happen.”   “You’re not the boss of me anymore. Isn’t that what you wanted? To stop being my mommy?” He tried to round her, but the wretch kept in motion.   “Shut up. I didn’t expect you to be grateful, but I didn’t do it to prove anything.” She motioned back to a safe distance. “Shit happened, you acted. You did the right thing, though the place and time were unfortunate and you got screwed over. End of story.”   Erik’s arms went numb. He rested the axe against the ground. Although still enraged, he felt emotionally exhausted.   “They were nine… Just nine… And his daughters.” He frowned, realizing he might have lost his last shred of innocence.   “I know. It’s much easier to kill a group of bandits, than deal with the evil lurking in normal, ordinary people…” She said softer.   He shrieked, letting his weapon go. He rushed towards the Redguard and grabbed her by the shoulders. She didn’t strike, he was unarmed. His face was mere inches away, the mad look in his eyes gave her shivers.   “You just have the answer to everything, don’t you?!!” He shouted, giving her a good shake. “Well, you don’t! You’re not that wise and insightful. You didn’t ditch me for my own good! Admit it, bitch! Admit it, you got scared things were getting serious!”   “Get off me!” She dropped the swords to push him away. “Time apart did you good, you can’t deny it. But yes, I confess, I got scared.” She helplessly rose her arms. “I got scared things would start getting bad. That you’ll get tired of me. So I ran away while things were still good. It was the best I could do.”   “Yeah, and that did us great.” Erik laughed bitterly. “What would you do that night in the shed if I hadn’t controlled myself?” He suddenly asked.   “You mean that one time I kept teasing you until you couldn’t take it anymore, jumped me and almost raped me? Well… Maybe I’d let you have your fun, maybe I wouldn’t. Regardless, I’d give you a good beating afterwards. And believe me, the beatings you got from me would be nothing in comparison. I’d probably leave you crippled for life, then be on my way. Why ask now?”   “I had a lot of time to think in prison.” He said indifferently. “I was thinking how different my life would be, if it hadn’t been for you. How different I could turn out.”   She gasped. That was one of her late night fears; what could have become of him if she’d leave him in Rorikstead. She immediately thought of Kjeld, the foolish whelp who she encountered in an abandoned lighthouse. The fool also wanted to live a life of adventure, but hung out with the wrong crowd and made bad decisions. He ended up with a few bruises, his pride in pieces, no clothes and a dagger up the arse. A very small price for stupidity and cowardice.   “There’s no point in dwelling on it now.” She dismissed, avoiding his gaze. “You turned out good, better than I could hope for. Nothing else is worth bothering with.”   The wind blew in her back, the cape flapped. He sneered resigned, he just couldn’t stay indifferent around that woman. Wherever he’d be, whatever he’d be doing, whoever he’d be doing, the thought of her would be with him, like a tumor clinging to the back of his head.   “Divines, I want to hate you. You have no idea how. But I can’t.” His fists clenched. The brief moment he touched her skin was enough to make his chest feel ripped open.   “Sure you can, you’re just not trying hard enough.” She encouraged.   “Despite you giving me reasons… You messed-up bitch.”   “That’s the spirit!” Aza cheered. “Anything else you want to get off your chest?” She inquired, picking up the glass blades.   “Nothing I can think of right now.”    “Well then, it was good seeing you, but I got to go.” She started to cautiously retreat, eying him in case he gets any new ideas.   “Where in Oblivion are you running away to now?” He grunted, making a step forward. His hot breath was like a cloud of fury in this weather.   “Solstheim. Not my choice, I have a score to settle. And I’m not running away.” She disclosed insulted.   “Yes, wretch, you are. You think I just wanted to do some sparring and yell at you? Oh, no! You’re not off the hook. I’m not letting you go.” He swore with a crazed gleam. He was dead serious.   “You’re coming with me?” She assumed with disbelief.   “No. I got my own plans. Go to Solstheim, I’m joining the Dawnguard, it was actually what I intended to do after visiting home. The first day of Autumn I’ll be waiting for you in Windhelm docs.” He approached his Redguard harlot and breathed straight in her face. Shards of ice on her lashes melted. “And you better be there. Because if you won’t… I’ll find you. And Divines help you.”   “Is that a threat?” Aza dared.   “It’s a date.” Erik promised.   ---   Lord Harkon was now a pile of smoldering ash. So were his devoted followers. His castle was burning, the Dawnguard was as efficient as it was zealous. The fighting was still ongoing, but the cathedral was quiet and still after the fierce battle that claimed the Master Vampire.   The hero who landed the final, lethal blow heaved, observing moonlight illuminating the speckles of dust dancing over the ash. It was finally over. After all this time of near death, little sleep and constant pressure, it was finally over. The world was safe from Harkon’s delusional ambitions.   He smiled pleased, he outdid himself. He wiped his damp forehead, then swept his hair back and tied with a leather band. The woman sitting next to him on the cold stone floor was completely motionless, her chest didn’t move. It was natural for her; she was a vampire herself, after all.   “I can’t believe it.” Serana, Harkon’s prized daughter, said with sorrow. “He’s dead. My father is dead, and I’m finally free from his madness.” She turned to him, her eyes were otherworldly amber. “And it’s all thanks to you.”   “Well, I did come prepared.” Erik smiled tiredly, patting the handle of his new axe. The weapon was made from dragon’s bone.   He loosened the collar of his armor; the darker variant of Dawnguard light armor. His old armor was torn into shreds by a gargoyle during his first days amongst the ranks of vampire hunters. But losing his armored jacket and ending up with three diagonal cuts across his abdominals was better, than having the monster carve his belly open. The axe he was now using was a souvenir from the Soul Cairn. The ebony one was sold right after he and his undead partner came back to Mundus.   The vampire bowed her head, staring at her own hands. She was an ageless beauty, forever young and yet there was elder wisdom in her eyes. Her figure was slim, youthful and lithe. Her voice was enough to make anyone stop and listen in awe. But she was also fiercely intelligent and confident. Erik could stare at her for hours, but he wasn’t a fool. Although Serana was a beauty he never saw before, she was still a corpse with a thirst for blood. And that was more than enough to cool down his loins.   “What now?” She asked, seeing him stand up.   “I’m done.” He explained calmly. He still had some time before setting off to Windhelm, but he hadn’t planned on spending it with the Dawnguard, it was time to move on. “It was fun, venturing with you into the Soul Cairn and the Forgotten Vale, uncovering ancient prophecies and legendary artifacts… But I’ve had enough. It’s time I pick up where I left before joining in. So… goodbye. Give Isran and the others my regards.”   “Wait!” She sprang up. “I can’t let you leave just like that. I owe you a debt bigger than you can imagine. Please, if there’s anything I can do for you…” Serana couldn’t stand owing a debt. Though both knew carnal lusts were out of the picture.   “Anything? Well, I think I can trust you…” He handed her his coinpurse, heavy from the gold he made off selling his old axe. “Take this to Rorikstead and give it to Mralki, the innkeeper. Tell him I’m doing good. That’s all.”   “That’s it?” She asked surprised, almost offended how menial his request was.   “Well, I’m not going to ask you to turn me into a vampire.” He joked. “But about that…” He hesitated.   “Yes?” Serana was alert. He was about to touch a personal matter, or offer advice. Although they spent a lot of time together and been through many dangers, she kept him at a safe distance, just like everyone else. She hated when anyone tried to get too close, regardless who they were.   “You could get clean, you know.” He dared suggest.   “Why should I?” Her eyes now had a shot of crimson.   “I’m not going to judge you, or try to change your mind. If you feel comfortable with who you are, I have no right to preach. But maybe, since all this is over and you are free, you could take one more step and finally be your own person. It’s just a thought.”   “I’ll… consider your advice.” She promised reluctantly, remembering the degrading ceremony that tainted her mind, body and soul all those years ago. “Goodbye. And good luck, whatever new mess you’re going to get yourself into.”   He left the castle undisturbed, passed the rubble-ridden courtyard and sailed on one of the boats back to the shore of Haafingar. It was almost dawn, how ironic. The morrow was misty. He hiked towards Solitude, as he left his horse at the city stable. Before setting off, he intended to wander the city and do some shopping, maybe enjoy a bath or lavish feast.   He entered Solitude around noon. He quickly passed the Winking Skeever, warding himself from the sudden wave of tender memories associated with the inn. Some managed to slip pass his willpower, forcing him to slow down and sigh. Were there any good brothels around? Sure there were, this was Solitude, after all! He had some gold, he could treat himself to some hired affection. No… forget it. He wasn’t in the mood, he just didn’t want to remember, a jug of mead would do him more good. And would surely cost less.   A few hours later he was heading towards the city gate, pleased to see the weather was clearing up. He bought himself some supplies and had enough finds to spoil himself with silver-lined leather bands to fasten his hair and braids, which went well with the dark armor. He hummed, passing the city gate and strolled down the hill, heading to the stables. On his way he passed what seemed to be a large caravan.   “Yesss…” He heard a familiar purr. “You could strike a deal with this one. We know the roads to Windhelm…”   “Ma’dran!” He greeted loudly, approaching the circle of tents.   The cat jumped and bristled his fur once he saw the red-haired Nord. The person Ma’dran was talking to was a middle-aged Redguard, clad in outlander robes.   “Ah, it is you, my friend. This one is happy to see you in good health.” The feline’s eyes shone like gemstones.   “Too bad you didn’t bother with my health when you left us for dead in Winterhold.” Erik pierced the Khajiit’s skull with his gaze. “Too bad…”   He remembered the cat and his guards escaping once they saw a frost dragon on their path, leaving him and Aza to fight the beast. He didn’t want revenge, but he didn’t want the damned Khajiit to betray anyone either.   “What is the meaning of this Ma’dran?” The Redguard asked. He had a deep, low voice, that although calm, demanded an answer.   “Nothing of importance. Just some old business.” The deceitful merchant smiled insincerely. “This one offers delayed payment if you promise to leave the subject.” He addressed Erik, reaching into his pocket.   “Choke on your gold. I’ll bet you got it illicitly.” Erik declined, turning to the Redguard. “I don’t know who you are or what your business is, but don’t trust that damned cat. He’ll leave you to your fate the moment he spots danger.” He ended his tirade with a loud snort and spat next to where Ma’dran was sitting.   The Khajiit hissed, but couldn’t call for his trusted bodyguards, who were too far away to come to his aid. The tents surrounding them belonged to Redguards, together there were about thirty or so people.   “I see.” The man from Hammerfell took a moment to consider his options. “Thank you, but I am no longer in need of your services. Leave.”   “No, it is this one who lost his interest in business!” The cat hissed, storming out of the circle of tents.   Well, that was that. Erik shrugged his shoulders ready to leave.   “Wait.” The man’s voice hadn’t raised, but he daren’t disobey. “Please, join me. I have a proposition.”   “I’m listening.” He said, sitting opposite to him on a soft carpet laid directly on the grass. He already knew what the man will offer.   “The deal you just interrupted is important to me. I run this caravan, you see. We spent several months stranded here, in Solitude, but we must march out east today. I can clearly see you are a traveler yourself. Do you know the land?”   “That I do.”   “We need to be in Windhelm as soon as possible, but we cannot take the main roads. Can you guide us?”   “You’re lucky. I have business in Windhelm myself.”   “I’m glad. My name is Kemon.” The Redguard introduced himself.   “Erik.”   ---   Just holding the Black Book made Aza tremble. There was ancient knowledge and evil in that piece of leather and paper. It was too powerful for anyone to read and not get corrupted by it. She remembered the place she took it from… And it wasn’t Solstheim, it was that… dark, cold plane, so… nauseatingly greenish, and moldy… She crossed her eyebrows, then shoved the book into a solid, iron case she ordered from the blacksmith in Raven Rock. She locked it and hid the key in her satchel. She then took a powerful swing and threw the case far away from where she was standing; onboard a ship heading back to Skyrim.   She knew it was pointless, one way or another Hermaeus Mora will find a way to seduce and enslave mortals with forbidden knowledge and power. But this was her way of saying ‘I’m out’. The rest of the Black Books she left next to Miraak’s skeleton in Apocrypha. She wanted to quickly forget about Solstheim, the first Dragonborn, Hermaeus Mora and his realm. But the farewell he gave her, made her blood curdle.   “Miraak harbored fantasies of rebellion against me. Learn from his example. Serve me faithfully, and you will continue to be richly rewarded" She heard the Daedra’s hum from all directions, as if his voice filled the entire realm of Apocrypha.   “I don’t want any of your gifts.” Her voice trembled. “I want out of here. I want my life back.”   “Mortal ignorant.” Hermaeus’ thousands of eyes rolled with glee. “You can leave, you can do whatever you please, but you will never break free from your fate. I know that better than anyone. I am the Lord of Fate.”   Aza felt a sleek, slimy tentacle caress her inner thigh. She screamed, jumping. The Daedra laughed amused.   “I don’t believe in fate! If you want to break me, spare me the ordeal!” She managed to screech terrified. She was at the Daedric Lord’s mercy, she knew he’d crush her existence in a mere second. And if that was his aim, at least spare her the torture.   “Oh, my champion… What use would you be if I reduced you to a blubbering pile of flesh? No… I send you back to your world… With one final gift.”   Another tentacle wrapped itself around her throat and seized her chin, forcing the heroine to look up, straight at the ball of darkness and eyes in the green sky. Her eyes rolled back in her head, as the Daedra invaded her mind, forcing a vision upon her.   She was wounded and kneeling, holding someone tightly in her arms. She knew the life of that person was in her hands, and she’d sacrifice her own for theirs. Although she wanted, she couldn’t look down and see the face of whoever she was protecting.   All around there was fire and smoke. The smell of blood filled the crimson night air. She took a deep breath and called out a name. A dragon swooped in, landed in front of her and spread its red wings…   Her mind surrendered into nothingness.   She awoke on the snow in the middle of the Skaal village, with Frea, the new shaman looking over her. It was over, the deed was done. But she couldn’t sleep, and felt uneasy the remaining days she was on Solstheim.   “Well, that’s that.” She said with relief. “I need grub.” She added, strolling to the dining deck.   She ate little, as she was running out of gold; her funds were barely enough to get back to Windhelm and not starve along the way. She spent most of her resources on the case and two perfect Nordic swords. She conditioned they follow the Skaal design, but be made of ebony, which considerably rose the costs. But the result made glass look like a child’s toy in comparison.   She should find some work soon… or a chest of gold on the bottom of some forgotten ruin. She swallowed a mouthful of bland bread, staring into her almost empty cup. Perhaps it was pure coincidence, but the ship was going to sail to Windhelm exactly the first day of Autumn. She wondered was he going to be waiting for her…   “Excuse me?” A woman’s shy voice was heard from above. “Could I ask for a moment of your time?”   Aza looked up from where she was dining. The voice belonged to a middle-aged woman who looked like a monk or healer, accompanied by a younger woman with a clearly visible rounding under her dress. Both were her kinswomen. Something about them made her immediately think about the great dunes of the Alik’r desert.   “Yea?” She asked, trying not to sound unpleasant.   A mother and her pregnant daughter? Two women alone on a ship with mostly Nord sailors? She could see where this was going.   “My name is Saabi, this is my sister Kazi. As you can see, we’re travelling alone, and my sister is with child. Our trip is urgent. We’re not wealthy, but I don’t think any of the thugs eying our purses would bother with asking. Could we… accompany you until we reach Windhelm? I have no coin, but my husband will be waiting for us and he is bound to pay you.”   The heroine said nothing, but motioned away, making room on the bench she was occupying. The women joined in with relief.   “Thank you!” Saabi smiled. “I promise we won’t cause you any trouble.”   She had a warm, motherly disposition. Her frizzy hair was cut short, close to the skin. She had hazel eyes and pronounced laugh lines. Kazi, on the other hand, was a quiet, shy creature with plump cheeks, flowing ebony hair and wide, almost child-like innocent eyes.   The women laughed after the adventurer introduced herself. Aza almost forgot her name had a hidden meaning in Redguard culture. She talked with the older woman about irrelevant nonsense, Kazi remained silent, but was clearly felling safer, although avoided looking the heroine in the eye.     “You must have some urgent business back on the mainland, eh?” Aza asked, trying not to make a face, but the drink she just finished tasted terrible. She noticed the women exchanged looks. “Ah, sorry, not my business.” She waved her palm, realizing they must have had damned good reason to sail alone, and with one of them pregnant.   “Forgive us, but we can’t say. I hope you can understand.” Saabi excused calmly, but firmly.   “I did my share of escort jobs, ma’am. I don’t need to know much pass your names.”   “Thank you. And might I ask what drove you to Solstheim? I can see your armor is more Nordic than Dunmer, so you must be a traveler.”   “Scores to set. It’s all good now.” She miraculously managed not to shiver, remembering what she went through in Apocrypha.   “Ladies…” A stocky Nord waddled up to their table, attempting to act suave.   “Beat it.” Aza grunted.   “I said ‘ladies’, not you, she-ogre.” The drunken sailor was of the lippy type.   The heroine stood up, as he apparently hadn’t seen her in her full, athletic glory in the dim light of the lower deck.   “You want company, handsome?” She asked, with dare. “Because I’m something you’ll never forget. You’ll be waking up with a scream for the rest of your life after a night with me.”   Since she was taller and in an apparent mood for a brawl, the man muttered an excuse and retreated, accompanied by laughter from some of the other crewmen.   “All talk.” She sat heavily, the bench creaked. “Until you dare them to actually do something.”   Saabi smiled barely noticeably. Yes, this woman was perfect for the job. Kemon will surely agree to hire her.

Chapter 2 - My Dirty Secret

She got dressed in plain blue robes and took him downstairs. She finished her wine, he drank mead. He didn’t push. He knew she was introverted and needed time to talk about herself. He waited patiently. “I assume you want to know what’s the reason behind my strange behavior” she sighed. She always spoke officially, in a posed formal tone. Though she slowly learned to talk freely around him, she was still so terribly fancy when she was nervous or mad. “Take your time.” He put his hand over hers. Her hands were so small compared to his. She was petite, though still taller than any Bosmer. The tip of her head was at the same level as his collarbone. She was slim and agile, not a heavy hitter like himself. Her agility was legendary and she could twist like a contortionist. Why, shortly after they got married she introduced him to positions and angles he never knew that existed… What was he thinking at a moment like this?! He mentally scolded himself. She needed his attention! “Well, I… I don’t want you to think I’m not happy with you. I am, really. I love it how giving and at the same time… intense you are. But” she feared this day would come and he would discover her shameful fetish. “I sometimes need to experience things that you would never do to me. Even if posed and arranged by myself.” “So, what are you saying? You enjoy tying yourself up?” “That… and a few other things.” Caye confirmed. Gods, she never wanted Farkas to learn of her sado-masochistic tendencies. She was so embarrassed! He was a wonderful man, patient and kind. He would never agree to participate in such sophisticated, but… twisted games. “Why?” “I have no idea. But my heart” she also called him ‘heart’. “I sometimes need to feel… bound, defenseless and so…” her black eyes matted a bit as her thoughts drifted away, “helpless. It’s really harmless compared to some other fetishes.” “Okay” he said slowly. “But why haven’t you told me before?” “I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. Or think little of me.” She confessed. “Think little of you? Come on, we’ve been through a lot together! I’d never thing little about you, even if you’re little yourself.” She laughed. He was one of the few people to hear her laugh sincerely, truly happy. Her voice was usually polite but chilly. Most people took her for cold and distant. In truth, she was simply cautions and guarded. “You’re too good to me.” She said, wiping a tear from her eye. “Please, just forget about everything and I’ll cook you dinner. I got some fresh horker.” She attempted to get up from her chair. He caught her by the wrist and pulled onto his hap. “Hold your horses, little lady.” He said sternly. “You’re my wife. I didn’t take you as my own just to have you empty my ballsack and fill my belly. I want you to be happy. And if there are cravings you need satisfied, I’ll satisfy them. Understood?” “Farkas…” she sighed, uncomfortable. He pinched her behind, she squeaked in an unexpectedly girly voice. She tried to push him away, but he was too strong. Physically, she was extremely lithe but not too powerful. She’d have to use magic to get away from him, but she’d never do that. He trusted her. “Come on, tell me what you need.” He insisted. “I…” She bit her pale lip. “I want you to play a game with me, okay?” “Okay.” “Good.” She sunk her hand into his dark hair. “Go to the cellar. Wait for me with just your pants and undies on.”

Chapter 1 - Welcome Home

Farkas considered himself a man of simple pleasures. A good fight, strong drink, sense of brotherhood and a full belly made him satisfied. He was in the early thirties of his life and enjoyed the life of a Companion ever since he was a toddler. He was on his way home from a small job he had all the way in the Rift. He was happy to be back earlier than anticipated, hoping that his wife will be home as well. They were both busy people and were seldom present home simultaneously. And their first wedding anniversary was coming up. He passed the front gate and after few minutes was opening the door with his key. Breezehome was a small, but cozy abode and neither of them needed more space or a more prestigious address in the Wind District. It was fine for the two of them, though she insisted that they dig a cellar through the study room. Still, what mattered most was that it was just a short walk from Jorrvaskir. Far enough to have some privacy and close enough to keep in touch with their Shield-Siblings. There was fire in the hearth and an unfinished drink on the table. Caye was home. He could smell her in the air. Perhaps because of her affinity for Destruction magic she smelled like the plains shortly after a thunderstorm. “Love!” He called, leaving his sword on the weapon rack. There was no answer, which was strange, as his woman’s sense of hearing was sharp. She was an elf after all. He listened for any sound. He might have cured himself of beastblood, but his senses were still sharp and alert. He picked up the smell of wine, scented oils, elven sweat and… adrenaline? This was strange. Cautiously, he climbed the stairs upstairs, passed the hall decorated with prize weapons and halted just as he was about to knock on the door. He heard a muffled whimper, it sounded pained and panicked. It was his wife’s voice. “Caye!” He yelled, kicking the door open, ready to fight Oblivion itself. His happily wedded was on their bed, naked and bound by an elaborate knot enveloping her body. The rope was extremely long, as it bound her limbs as well, making it impossible to free herself from this elaborate position. She was lying on her back, with her privates facing the door. Her both legs were tied to the bedposts, her hands were tied up in front of her. Her small, pink pussy faced him directly, steadily dripping juices. As she noticed him, she released a muffled shriek. She was gagged with a piece of rope as well. Her empty, black eyes widened, the light danced in the glossy even eyeballs. “Gods, what happened?!” He cried, as he pulled the gag aside and attempted to untie her. He couldn’t, the knot was too sophisticated. Whoever did this to her will pay! He growled, as he grabbed the main line and tore it in two. She was free. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled closer, ignoring that the cool of his armor was against her ashen blue skin. “Welcome home.” She said quietly. Her usually measured, calm voice was miserable and humiliated. “Whoever did this to you will pay! I promise!” “Treasure” she never addressed him ‘love’, or ‘dear’. “It’s okay.” She patted him on the back, avoiding looking him in the face. “It’s not! By the Gods, who were they? Did they hurt you? What did they want?” “There is no ‘they’, treasure.” She confessed, growing even more embarrassed. “What do you mean?” He asked confused, his painfully tight embrace loosened a bit. “You don’t mean to tell me you did this to yourself?” “I… I did.” She confessed, first tears glimmered in her eerie eyes. “Why?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was there poison in her wine that made her act so unreasonable? He brushed her cheek, sweeping a strand of her red hair from her little sharp face. “Because” she confessed, “it pleases me.”

Chapter 3 - the Rules

The cellar was mostly their study. She had an alchemy lab, enchanting table and an impressive bookshelf. He had a workbench, sharpening wheel and training mannequin. He entered the room and slowly stripped out of his armor. He wasn’t sure how will things play out, but he knew one thing. He wanted the woman of his life to be happy. Several minutes later, Caye followed. Her red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, exposing her slender neck. She was wearing a piece of lingerie he never seen her in. She usually wore modest, white cotton underwear. Now, she was wearing long silk gloves, stockings of same fabric and knee long boots on a thin heel. The gloves and stockings were black with silver lining. The boots were of soft black leather with ebony tips and heels. She was also wearing skimpy panties made of black mesh and a laced up front tube top of the same material. Her war paint was gone, but her lips were flushed. She was smiling alarmingly innocently, as she approached him. That woman looked nothing like his wife. “Those are… wow.” He shuttered out, seeing as her small, but joyfully perky breasts bounced slightly and her rounded hips wiggled. She gently pushed him, signalizing she wanted him to sit on the sturdy, round table in the center of the room. He obeyed. She mounted him. “You trust me don’t you?” She inquired, caressing his chest. “With my life.” He said without thinking. “And what happens here will stay between us, right?” “Sure!” “Okay… Shall we get started?” She asked, raising her brow. “Yeah…” He purred, attempting to kiss her. She abruptly grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back, exposing his neck. “Who said you’re the top?” She asked coldly. She licked his Adam’s apple. Farkas felt uneasy. He might be clean of beast blood, but he still instinctively felt endangered when someone had an easy access to his throat. “Caye…” “Shh… This is just a game, remember?” She reminded tugging his hair a few times. “I don’t think you truly understand such perversions. And as emphatic and understanding you are, you wouldn’t make a good dom at this point. So… tonight I’ll be your Mistress. And if you won’t understand that’s the point of this game, we’ll never play it again. Alright?” “Alright.” “You’re absolutely sure you want to do this?” She asked seriously. Her incredible empty eyes gazed into his blue-gray. “I’m in!” He assured. “Okay…” Her sharp little tongue slid between his big lips and grinded against his rough tongue. He loved the taste of that woman’s mouth. Sweet and slightly spicy. Her sweat and love juices tasted the same, with varying intensity. She reluctantly got off him. He murmured displeased, as he felt his member slowly respond to the excitement he started to feel. Maybe she wasn’t a buxom, golden-haired and fair-skinned lass, but she drove him insane. Caye walked to one of the bookshelves and pulled one tome from the shelf. The entire bookcase sunk into the wall and slid aside, revealing a secret room. She snapped her fingers, warm light followed. She lit the candles in the room with magic. “What the…?” He shuttered. “Please, enter.” She bid him. “And don’t speak unless spoken to.” Farkas got up from the table and followed her into the secret room. It was a cozily arranged dungeon. There were hooks and rings on the ceiling, walls and floor. There was a column with a few holders, a solid bed with loops and holders, a chair with a small table. And tools, all kinds of them. Gags, cuffs, restrains, blindfolds. Also, chains, ropes and whips. There were also some strange devices he couldn’t identify. She had a freaky little collection. The floor had a nice, soft carpet, there were some morally questionable works of art present on the walls. “Surprised?” She asked, noticing how his eyes widened. “Shouldn’t I be?! When did you arrange all this?” “Oh, little by little while you were away. I… think I knew you’d find out one day. But I never showed it to anyone but you!” She swore, putting her hand on her chest. “I never doubted that.” “You’re too kind” she purred, taking him by the hand. “Before we start, I’ll explain the rules. You are the love of my life, but tonight I will do anything in my power to break your will and make you submit to me. I’ll use your body and mind to make you recognize me as your Mistress. And you will feel pain and enjoy it. I want you to trust me enough to let me bind you defenseless and leave you at my mercy.” He nodded, as she turned to the table and searched for something. She turned to him, holding thick leather cuffs with rings and chains attached to them. “Wha…?” “Hands in front of you. If you’ll talk without permission again, I will punish you.” The warrior let the petite elf cuff his wrists and pull a chain through the rings. She pulled him to the solid pillar and with his help pulled the chain over the large iron circle above him. His arms rose up, binding him to the column. “It’s hard to determine when the game ends and reality begins. That’s why I want you to remember two words. First one initiates the game, the second immediately ends it. Use it when you feel you can’t take or don’t want to take anymore. Nod if you understand.” Her husband nodded. “Alright. The first word is ‘Opaque’. The safety word is ‘Transparent’. Please…” Her little sharp face lit up. “Initiate the game.” Farkas took a deep breath and calmly said the first word. The game was on.

Chapter 19 - Provocation Duel

Agatha casually reached for another box, but her hands, shaking with rage, couldn't reach it without dropping the pen holder. She opened the file with an annoyed huff and tried to read the report but couldn't focus, her anger destroying her ability to concentrate. She glanced at the ornate clock hanging on the wall and there were still four hours left in the workday and yet, after another five minutes of staring at the papers in front of her with glazed eyes, she quickly decided to take the rest of the day off. day off, one of the perks of being the Head of Department, she instantly scribbled a note on the paper and sent it to her secretary, disappearing in a loud snap. ~xXx~ Agatha used a [Salire Auferetur] directly in front of her liquor cabinet. It would be nice to relax with a glass of whiskey before Samantha and Thaddeus arrived for another dueling lesson. After brief consideration, she decided to go with a mundane variety instead of magic whiskey, and filled her glass with a select vintage of malt. About twenty minutes and five glasses later, she was still sitting in the living room when she heard a scream from upstairs, Agatha instantly jumped up with her wand already in her wand. She was already halfway up the stairs when she remembered the events of the last time, where she found herself in a scene she just wasn't supposed to see and another scream came from the direction where Samantha's room was, and this time, she was able to easily detect it. The tones of pleasure and with the mystery of the scream solved, Agatha quickly decided to head back to her own office which was why she was definitely quite surprised when her legs decided to ignore her orders and dragged her into Samantha's room, the sound of Pleasure-filled screams getting louder with every step. A part of her relentlessly tried to resist, but it was buried by the insistence of his excited, slightly dizzy aspects. I just want to make sure Samantha is okay, she rationalized to herself, she definitely knew this was a lame excuse, but insisted anyway and found herself in front of Samantha's room, the door was ajar, which was why. that she could hear their noises, she silently leaned into the opening and peered inside. At first, she didn't notice anything out of order. A figure she easily identified as Thaddeus was pressing a woman against the wall, knocking her repeatedly from behind for her pleasure and yet something was wrong, Agatha curiously noticed, but it took her a few seconds to finally figure out that the woman in question had brown hair not Red-haired! Agatha instantly felt her anger rise. 'Just how the hell did Thaddeus betray his precious sister, especially under Agatha's roof, in Samantha's own room!?' Agatha thought furiously and instantly reached for her wand, a punishing spell for Thaddeus on her lips, when she heard a familiar voice behind her. "Hey sister…" Samantha said softly in a loud voice. "Err… I really didn't know you'd be here early." Agatha instantly turned around in surprise, her wand slipping from her fingers in a rare display of embarrassment. Still, she was unable to reach for her wand, held in place by her sister's gaze. "Hi, Samantha." Agatha said casually in an irritated tone of voice. "Bad day at work." "Sorry to hear that, sister." Samantha said casually with a gentle smile on her face. "Another shit from that incompetent idiot then." Samantha said curiously and then reached out and patted Agatha's shoulder. However, during her movement, Agatha curiously noticed Samantha's current attire. There was a short towel wrapped around her that could barely contain her large breasts, and the bottom could barely cover her femininity and the towel slid off as she reached Agatha's shoulder, revealing her femininity in Agatha's eyes. Agatha felt an intense flush creep over her skin as she managed to mumble a few words of thanks. "Anyway, I need to get in. I have a punishment to deliver. They shouldn't start yet, it's still my turn." Samantha said quickly, instantly entered her room, closing the door behind her. "Thaddeus!" Agatha heard Samantha screaming inside her own room. "You should fucking wait for me!" "Excuse me." Thaddeus responded quickly in what Agatha thought was the most sincere apology she had ever heard. "But you know how Annabeth can be when she gets horny." "Sorry-" Annabeth quickly started to say, only to be interrupted mid-sentence with a high-pitched groan. "Sorry Samantha, but you were taking too long in the bathroom." "You deserve punishment for trying to monopolize my turn, Annabeth." Samantha said happily out loud. "Isn't that right, Thaddeus?" "Oh yes, Annabeth definitely deserves punishment for her selfish attitude." Thaddeus said happily, and a popping sound echoed in the room, followed by a scream from Annabeth. "Thaddeus, that hurts." Annabeth said quickly, but her tone gave no hint of being against it. "But that's the intention, Annabeth." Samantha said happily. "It doesn't work as a punishment if it's not hurting, right?" Samantha asked curiously the statement was followed by another slap, its sound quite different from the previous one. Agatha was pretty sure her sister was responsible for this, even though she didn't know about it, she stood in front of the closed door, trying to fight the revelation that her sister was currently in a threesome and, more importantly, not even blinking at the realization. that she definitely knew that and was on the other side of the door. A sad laugh escaped her mouth when Agatha finally realized the awkwardness of the situation, and even as a student she had little experience in sexual matters, as she dedicated herself to becoming a lawyer like her father, which gave her an early demeanor. severe and intimidating. A trait that was forged the hardest by the war after she lost most of her family and friends. She became Head of Department during the war at a very young age, just because all the other candidates were dead and then, the war ended, and she became the general head of law enforcement after Euclid's Misfortune and with her days filled with struggle. to uphold the laws against a corrupt government, which he was increasingly wanting there to simply be Outside Intervention, dating opportunities were virtually non-existent. Agatha nodded silently, realizing she'd been standing in front of the door for minutes, the groans of teenagers ringing in her ears, louder moans than she'd ever let out in her life, each filled with more passion than she'd ever experienced in her life. life. Still, she would have walked away, but noticed a thin ray of light coming from the door, signifying that the door wasn't securely closed. A quick glance wouldn't hurt, Agatha reasoned as she shuffled toward the door and pushed gently, increasing the distance just enough to catch a glimpse of what was going on inside. The sight she found inside was shockingly arousing. Annabeth was on her back with Thaddeus parked on her bottom end, sliding his shaft into her ass. Meanwhile, Samantha hovered over Annabeth's mouth, receiving an enthusiastic service from her tongue. A wave of spark rippled through Agatha's body as she continued to watch for over a minute. She felt the beginnings of a tingling in her nether regions, pulling at him hard. She was so tempted to reach under her cloak and pleasure herself and the temptation was stronger than at any other time in her memories, but still, the shame was stronger. The idea of being caught by her sister while spying on her having sex was too embarrassing to even imagine and experience on her own. A solution popped into her mind, a hot bath where she could definitely freely attend to her needs suddenly seemed very appealing. She leaned over and looked inside one last time, doing her best to record the scene in her memory, then ran to the bathroom. She closed the door at random as she walked through the door, in the midst of removing her robe. A wave of her wand ensured that the tub was simply filled with comfortably warm water. Then she completed the task of undressing as urgently as possible. She saw herself in front of the mirror, completely naked. She was unable to fight the temptation to fondle her enormous breasts. She placed her hands over her pale skin, which was adorned with occasional freckles. A low growl escaped her mouth as her fingers sank into his plump flesh. Just a minute of self-attention was enough to bring her into a state of overload, generously aided by the earlier images she had observed. Back then, she'd been overjoyed to have hypersensitive breasts and for a moment, she'd considered skipping the shower and playing with herself until she climaxed, but the embrace of the hot water was too strong a temptation to deny. Then she reluctantly took her hands from her breasts and gripped the edges of the tub, sliding into the warm cocoon of the water. She gasped as comfort engulfed her, for minutes she lay in the water, letting the stress flow away from her skin. Then her wave of excitement rose once more, demanding that her hands be better used. She eagerly complied, arching her back as her body was ravaged by her own hands, her breasts showing through the blisters. Her activities were suddenly interrupted by the door being opened, the stationary handle reminding Agatha that she had forgotten to close the door properly in her haste. Caught with her foot on the ground, it took her a second to dive deep into the water, which meant Thaddeus had a bird's-eye view of her breasts. Agatha buried herself right under her nose, her face burning a crimson red, glad she didn't skimp on the blisters. Without her cover, she was showing so much more of her body. She was silent, waiting for Thaddeus to leave. Instead of… "Hi Agatha" Thaddeus said casually, and walked into the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. 'Quite inappropriate by the way…' Agatha thought silently in the back of her mind, barely able to contain his impressively sized cock, even in his semi-erect state. Then Agatha's mind instantly went to work with the rest of her brain working, regaining control of her tongue. "Thaddeus, what are you doing here?" "Taking a shower." Thaddeus said casually as he walked towards the shower. Agatha tried to answer, but her mind stopped working when Thaddeus took off the towel. 'Fuck such an ass should be illegal.' Agatha thought happily, finding herself unable to do anything as the water slid over Thaddeus' body creating fascinating patterns as it followed the contours of his well-developed muscles. She licked her lips, watching him get rid of the sweat that had built up during his previous carnal activities. She knew she should send him away, or at least turn his head, a truly impossible task to complete. So she watched silently as Thaddeus finished his shower, a part of her outraged that he didn't even have the courtesy of a full erection. Then he finished his shower and stepped out of the glass cubicle, his body deliciously damp. Agatha knew she should be relaxed because he was about to leave, but she was disappointed the show ended. That, and she didn't have the heart to secretly caress herself under the blisters while the show lasted. Distracted by her thoughts, she realized too late that Thaddeus' fate hadn't led him to the door and as a result she was quite surprised when she noticed Thaddeus at the edge of the tub, slipping one foot into the water. "Thaddeus just went away, this is very inappropriate." Agatha said casually aloud. "Same?" Thaddeus asked curiously as he put his other foot in the water. "Like someone peeking in there while I was with Samantha and Annabeth, could it be any less inappropriate than that exactly, Madam Bond?" A spark of shock instantly surged through and hit Agatha's heart hard as she realized she hadn't been as discreet as she'd hoped. "I just looked around to make sure Samantha was okay." Agatha said quickly, hoping to cover her action with a guise of concern. "I see. You were just worried, so you just peeked in for almost fifteen minutes. Perfectly understandable." Thaddeus said casually and a smug smile widened with every sentence Thaddeus said. He finished lowering himself into the water during the explanation, his feet occasionally touching the sides of his hips, though he kept them pulled slightly. The bathtub was big enough to easily accommodate two people, but not big enough to avoid some intimacy. Agatha was instantly deprived of his words. She waited in silence as she tried to decide which was less embarrassing, staying in that intimate position under the cover of blisters, or getting up and giving Thaddeus a full glimpse of her body. Once again, the choice was taken from Agatha. She felt Thaddeus's hands wrap around his feet. Without asking permission, he pulled her foot out of the water, still holding it with both hands. "What are you doing?" Agatha quickly asked in panic. "Feet massage." Thaddeus said softly in a casual tone. "Since you're kind enough to share this comfortable bath with me, I need to do something in return, right?" Agatha was about to say it wasn't necessary when Thaddeus's thumb pressed against the soles of her feet, drawing a small circle while his other thumb rubbed the side and that was definitely enough to force her to withdraw her statement. She just sat silently, buried in the bubbles, her blush discovering new shades of crimson, while Thaddeus's fingers discovered the nerves she hadn't known existed, each one springing to life with a satisfying tingle, her arousal growing stronger as she went. Every second that passed didn't come as a surprise, but its inevitability did little to help her contain her voice. She had lost control of the situation a long time ago, but she refused to meow like a newborn kitten under her hands, especially when Thaddeus did nothing but rub her feet. 'This is definitely easier in theory.' Agatha thought silently as she bit her lip to keep her moans from existing. In practice, it was about to become downright impossible in no time, something Thaddeus was definitely aware of, if her shitty grin was any indicator and pretty soon, the resistance became too hard to bear and she decided to surrender and since As she surrendered, she decided to take the opportunity to cheat a little, and to sneak a hand close to her folds, even his initial touches enough to send a jolt of pleasure through her body. She rubbed herself slowly, doing her best to keep her shoulder steady. Thaddeus showed no signs of realizing what was happening underwater, though Agatha had doubts if that was the case. Still, Agatha appreciated his lack of comment, otherwise the shame would be too hard to bear. Agatha was about to climax, the door opened once more, and Annabeth casually appeared in the doorway, wearing a pair of fishnet tights up to her thigh and nothing else. She was already talking when she entered the bathroom. "Hey Thaddeus, you're late. You promised to show me that trick with ice and silk scarves..." Annabeth said casually and finally realized where Thaddeus was sitting, and who was actually sitting with him, her blush instantly rose quickly to match with the red tone of Agatha's hair. "Oh sorry, Sister Agatha." Annabeth said quickly out loud. "I definitely didn't know you were here with Thaddeus." Agatha instantly buried herself in the water once more, a part of her mind wondering how things had turned out for this shameful affair. Not only was she caught by her sister while spying on her sister's best friend having sex with her boyfriend and caught by her boyfriend while her sister, best friend and boyfriend were having a hot and wild threesome, but now, she's been caught by the called best friend, who has called her sister since the age of three, while getting a foot massage from her sister's boyfriend and the fact that they were both naked and bathing didn't make things any easier and the only solace she had it was the fact that his hand was hidden thanks to the thick layer of blister. "Already going up." Thaddeus said quickly and stood up. Agatha took one look at his cock, a part of her oddly proud of the fact that he was standing on the pole. "Sorry about that Agatha, but I promised Annabeth the ice and silk scarves experience… an hour ago." Thaddeus said casually out loud, before exiting the bathroom and he definitely didn't bother grabbing a towel, just he waved his hand negligently and went completely dry and then they both just walked out, the sound of a slap sounding in the hallway, followed by a female moan that Agatha easily identified as Annabeth. Agatha buried herself in the tub, taking comfort in the fact that her flushed body was out of sight... ~xXx~ Agatha definitely didn't spend much time in the bathroom after Thaddeus left the bathroom and the mortification of being caught by Annabeth was enough to prevent the second encounter between her hand and her lower lips. She got up, quickly dried herself off, then wrapped herself in the fluffiest, most covered robe she could find and hurriedly left for her room. ~xXx~ Agatha curiously concluded that it was good that the hormone-ridden teens were busy with each other for at least an hour and that gave her time to compose herself before facing them, Agatha quickly shook her head, trying to distract herself from the overwhelming feeling, It was definitely ridiculous for her, Hyperion's second most intimidating female, arguably first in Hampton, much to Agatha's disappointment, to dread facing three young men who had barely reached adulthood, yet somehow they all managed to partake in a few of the most embarrassing moments of her life and after spending over half an hour on the subject, the best solution she simply came up with was to act as if nothing had happened and hope they didn't really pressure her about the events and with that in mind, she got up to dress, and for a moment she curiously considered wearing a heavy, appropriately serious robe, with the added bonus of s It was a little more conservative than her usual attire and after a brief detailed consideration she instantly ventured the idea, first, the cloak's extra protection made no sense against the power Thaddeus could put behind his spells effortlessly and in second, she didn't want to give a sign that she was affected by the previous encounter by acting too defensive and instead, she decided to use the fruits of her last visit to Crocus, although she was a little shocked during the visit. She didn't really expect there to be big stores just for gym clothes, with every shelf full of colorful items made from unfamiliar, comfortable fabrics, but she fell in love with them after one attempt to wear them, as they were both comfortable. on your skin and easy to move around. Even though they were more revealing than she was used to, revealing every curve of her body with the way they came together, she decided to buy them. She took a deep breath to ignite the embers of her courage, then quickly donned her chosen items, a stretchy top that would have revealed everything if it weren't for the sports bra underneath and a pair of equally stretchy yoga pants tucking her shapely ass into hers. in full exposure. "Maybe they distracted him enough for me to steal a few wins." Agatha murmured softly to herself, her blush rising to match the color of her hair as the words left her mouth. She realized that she was trying to seduce a boy half her age just to gain a passing advantage, but her frustration wasn't enough to make him change his mind. Thaddeus was strong, but that didn't make the series of losses she'd incurred any more palatable. She was willing to play dirty if it would bring a victory to alleviate her severely damaged professional pride, her decision on clothing was finalized, she moved to the dueling room where Thaddeus and his sister were already waiting for her, even though Annabeth was there. absent and the only reaction Thaddeus gave was a soft, appreciative whistle, which made Ágatha happier than she should have when she received approval from her sister's boyfriend, but her sister stole her attention before she could reflect on it. "You are just an amazing sister." Samantha said happily, her lips curving in amusement. "A little revealing for your style, don't you think?" Agatha silently looked at Samantha in complete disbelief. Yes, she may have dressed differently than usual, but her sister had no right to call her revealing! Not with the clothes she was wearing, a pleated skirt that barely escaped being called a belt, and a tight white blouse that left most of her midriff bare and the lack of a bra obvious. Agatha quickly opened her mouth to scold her for her outfit, but her brow shot up in amusement, and Agatha's words instantly died prematurely, Agatha knew her sister well enough to enjoy taking the victor's side in a hopeless argument. There was no way Agatha could scold her sister after being caught watching them having sex and instead she focused on Thaddeus. "Would you rather start training or training first?" "Training." Thaddeus said casually, letting his gaze roam over Agatha's body for a second. "For some reason, I feel too hot and uncomfortable for repetitive workouts." Something Agatha thought impossible happened to her, her blush intensifying even more. "Spar is-" Agatha began, only for her words to wither in half, her mouth suddenly drier than a desert as she watched Thaddeus take off his shirt, revealing his muscled, bruised torso, reminding her once again that this was a man in front of her, not a spoiled boy. "Come on." Thaddeus said happily, the humor in her tone reminding her that Agatha had been standing still for the last few seconds, watching the way her muscles rippled with her every movement. "I really hope you're prepared for this, Agatha." Thaddeus said casually, this time there's a crackle of amusement in his tone. "Because I'm going to rock your world completely." Agatha raised her wand and sent out a silent Shieldbreaker, but only after feeling the noticeable drain on her magic did she realize it was dangerously strong for simple training, but Thaddeus proved the panic unnecessary as he redirected his spell to the floor in the mid-flight, it was her reflexes that prevented an injury from flying stones, a shield that fit between her and the blast, her conscious mind too busy trying to figure out what Thaddeus had accomplished. Redirecting a spell using a shield was possible, albeit quite difficult, but what Thaddeus did was different, Thaddeus somehow managed to deflect the spell midway, when several stunners, breaking with excess energy, appeared in the middle of the screen. dust forcing her to focus more on her immediate concern as she dodged the spells that had shattered her shield like it was made of fine china and Agatha simply dodged, but before she could send out another attack in response, Thaddeus ran across the room. dust, enhancing its robust appearance. Agatha felt her heartbeat quicken as her half-naked and slightly sweaty body sent her mind to the scene she had observed a few hours ago in her sister's bedroom… Agatha's last loss of concentration was deadly. He ran forward, and Thaddeus was in her face before she could react. She raised her wand to cast a Banishing Spell, hoping to gain some distance, but he snatched the wand from her fingers. He grabbed her wrist, took another step, and Agatha found herself helplessly trapped, her chest pressing into her back. "So Agatha… do you surrender?" Thaddeus asked curiously in a whisper in Agatha's ear. Agatha definitely knew the situation was hopeless, yet she continued her struggle to escape Thaddeus' clutches, but her struggle had an unexpected side effect, which she noticed when she tried to push him with her hips, the hardness in his pants could be fire, considering how quickly she pulled away, a shocked gasp coming out of her mouth, but it wasn't the only noise that reached her ears, it was mixed with a similar gasp, only much deeper coming from Thaddeus and a weakness that she could definitely use, Agatha realized as she identified the source of the noise, and thrust her hips outward once more, feeling the presence of his rock-hard cock, but this time, instead of backing away, she began to move her hips forward. up and down. Agatha definitely tried to ignore her own pleasure at the position, trying to focus on his loosened grip and as soon as she was sure Thaddeus's grip was loose enough, she pulled her wrist out of his hand and took her wand, her fingers clenching. around him, but she couldn't pull him out of Thaddeus's tight grip. Then she felt a shove on his shoulder, making her lose her balance. Agatha braced herself for a hard fall, only to have her descent interrupted by her arms wrapped around her belly, her hands pressing into the ground for balance. More importantly, her shaft was still firmly lodged between his cheeks. She tried to say something, but an unexpected sound rang out in the room before Agatha compiled a response. "Such an interesting form of martial arts, dear sister." Samantha said casually, followed by a short giggle of joy. With her voice reminding her of her sister's presence, Agatha instantly tried to flee, but Thaddeus' hands prevented her from escaping. "Not before you surrender." Thaddeus added casually with a small smile present on his lips. "I surrender." Agatha said quickly, managing not to stutter in her panic mode, jumping up as soon as her grip loosened, her chest heaving as if she'd just run a marathon, only partially because she was caught. "Wow, sister." Samantha said happily and the pleasure was clear in her tone of voice. "I didn't know sparring could be so much fun. How about I start training too?" "It works for me, it would be a good workout for a lot of opponents." Thaddeus said quickly with a shrug. "We will." Samantha said happily, walking towards her sister and Thaddeus with her wand in her hand, each step she took in her skirt high enough to reveal her panties. "But wouldn't it be fun without something depending on the outcome?" "How about the loser giving the winner a full body massage?" Thaddeus asked curiously, winking shamelessly at Samantha. "I'm in desperate need of a massage in a specific place." "Combined." Samantha said happily, closing the deal before Agatha could say anything. Samantha casually turned to look at her sister. "Come on sister, you don't want to miss this, Thaddeus' massages are amazing." Samantha said casually and quickly returned her gaze to Thaddeus, enjoying the half-naked sight as Agatha tried not to drown in a flashback to the foot massage she'd received an hour ago. "And although giving up isn't exactly a difficult task either, right sister?" Samantha asked curiously and continued talking, sending Agatha a wink. Agatha definitely couldn't respond in any way, because Samantha continued with a fistfight, aimed at Thaddeus. Agatha quickly raised her wand and sent out some large-scale stunts, forcing Thaddeus to hide behind his shield, welcoming the familiar fog of combat over the melee. Samantha definitely managed to impress Agatha in no time, her cast was crisp, no frills or doubts. Much better than she could have achieved at the same age, rivaling her performance at the ball. Not to mention she showed a tactical mind, trying to limit Thaddeus' movement options rather than stacking his shield in hopes of breaking it. Agatha let her body fall into her sister's rhythm, allowing them to push Thaddeus into the corner of the room, though Agatha had to admit, mostly because Thaddeus stopped overloading his spells for fear of hurting Samantha. Agatha allowed herself to feel hope and victory definitely felt so close now. And everything just changed in a moment, with Thaddeus focusing on Samantha for most of the duel, Agatha wasn't prepared for a dozen disarmers suddenly attacking her suddenly. She easily managed to lift a shield, but her hurried build was unable to withstand the onslaught and the shield was shattered to smithereens, and Agatha's wand flew out of her hand less than a second later and using the same trick on Samantha, Thaddeus easily succeeded. disarm it before Agatha's wand completes its flight path. "Good fight." Thaddeus said casually with a smile present on his face. "For both of you actually." "Let's continue with the training exercises." Agatha said quickly, definitely not wanting to talk about the bet she just lost. They began doing spell-chaining exercises, with Samantha asking permission to visit Annabeth. Agatha only hoped her sister was acting reasonably when the sentence was handed down, though Agatha had doubts about that. ~xXx~ Despite her best effort not to make any noise, a whistle of appreciation simply escaped Agatha's mouth, her sister standing in front of her, dressed in nothing but a loose towel, her lack of panties revealed every time she picked up something, Agatha definitely wanted to reprimand her but didn't think it would be effective, not after being caught spying on them while they had sex and simply unable to say anything, Agatha turned her attention to Thaddeus's body, face down, a small towel. covering her ass, purring happily in a low voice as Samantha's hands danced over her shoulders. "Come on sister, you're already late." Samantha said quickly, not bothering to remove her hands from Thaddeus's body. "You lost the bet too, so don't try to pile all the work on me, so start with Thaddeus' legs." Agatha was actually glad none of them were looking at her, missing the blush that rose to her face. Agatha walked toward the table where Thaddeus was lying, trying not to feel self-conscious about the state of her clothing. It didn't cover enough meat as it was quite substantial, but it was still a bathrobe, which made her uncomfortable. Agatha tried to convince herself inwardly that there was no difference between her robe and the "clothes" she was currently wearing but it felt false in her mind and still, a bet's a bet, which was why Agatha put her hands on hers. Thaddeus' calf and started massaging. She tried to distract herself by focusing on her work, trying to plan her approach to her next case. She even managed it for a while, but with every second that passed, the presence of her tense muscles under her hands deepened in her mind, to the point where work couldn't find a grip on her mind despite her best effort, his thoughts hijacked by the texture of Thaddeus's defined muscles. Agatha would have slapped herself if it weren't for the fact that she had to explain to her sister the reason for her self-punishment. Instead, she moved her hands down, massaging the soles of Thaddeus's feet, something he liked if the low-pitched growl was any indicator. She carefully ignored the sudden shivers that ran through her skin. She increased the speed with which she rubbed Thaddeus's feet, trying to finish fast so she could walk away. After a few minutes, Thaddeus pressed his hands to the table and gave a little shake in an attempt to get more comfortable, however, there was a side effect of Agatha's perspective and with his sudden movement, the towel rose, leaving an important part of his free anatomy for your gaze. It was smaller compared to the last time she'd seen him, but considering the enthusiastic attention she was receiving at that particular moment, the difference wasn't too surprising and for a moment, she felt a question forming in her mind, wondering if she alone would be able to reach it. She crushed him mercilessly, doing her best to ignore the fact that her mind was continually popping up with a ridiculous question every second. Agatha was here because of the bet she'd made, nothing more, she repeated it over and over, trying to believe her own thoughts. "Time to turn it around." Samantha said casually, definitely interrupting her sister's thoughts, causing her to quickly recoil in panic, quickly replaced by a dose of discreet guilt. Agatha had somehow forgotten her sister's presence and luckily, none of them commented on her strange response. Agatha turned around, allowing Thaddeus to shift comfortably, however she was aware that it was more for her comfort than Thaddeus, who had shown no sign of being aware of the body until that moment and when he rolled onto his back, Thaddeus was lying on his back, the towel covering his crotch, his sister already gently caressing his chest. Agatha didn't say anything, just placed her hands on his thighs, trying to bruise his stiff muscles, and at this point, Agatha started to hope that she could end the night without anything embarrassing when her sister started massaging Thaddeus's stomach. It wouldn't be a problem if she was at the side of the table, but she chose to stand at the head of the table, forcing her to lean forward. She still had to stand on her toes whenever she got to Thaddeus's lower stomach and still, it wouldn't have been a problem if it hadn't been for the outrageously small towel Samantha was wearing, one that rose even higher whenever she stood on the bed. toes, high enough to create a vision that would put a glint of desire in Thaddeus's eyes. Agatha quickly returned her focus to her part of the massage, the sooner she was done, the sooner she could leave them alone. It was obvious things were going to heat up soon, and she just wanted to get out before then. A minute later, she realized that her estimate was a little optimistic and Thaddeus' axis gradually came to life much faster than she originally expected, making the situation even weirder and the towel was still in place, but its concealment had an effect. it was limited, whereas instead it looked like a poorly prepared tent. A minute later, Agatha was forced to correct herself, the towel definitely came in handy, she realized when Samantha suddenly pulled the towel to the side and dropped it to the floor. Agatha felt the blood rush to her brain, forcing her mind to reset, and it took almost a minute for her to start moving again. She pulled her hands away, about to leave the room, when her sister spoke once more. "Are you running away, dear sister?" Samantha asked in a mocking tone in her voice. Of course, Agatha really knew it was childish teasing, and she should have ignored it, but for some reason, she found herself unable to do so. Maybe it was pride... maybe it was wanting to put her sister in her place... maybe it was something more primal... her mind simply begging her not to waste her last chance to back off... "Very well, sister." Samantha said as she tried to reach for Thaddeus' erection, only to explode by an inch. Agatha didn't say anything, mostly because she couldn't think of anything to say. She had enough presence of mind to realize the absurdity of her situation, calmly massaging her sister's boyfriend for a vague interpretation of the concept of calm while her sister did activities that were best left to the bedroom and for Mavis' sake, the only reason. The reason Samantha wasn't jerking off Thaddeus was that she didn't want to stop the show he was watching. The show she put on whenever she stood on her tiptoes, her short towel unable to cover even the bare essentials as she rose with her movement. So Samantha came up with a solution to her problem that made Agatha's blush explode. She went up on her toes once more, but this time, she too took a step forward, managing to hide Thaddeus' face under the towel and the sudden gasp that escaped her mouth left no doubt as to what exactly was going on there. For Agatha, Samantha's hands around her waist weren't an addition to the situation that made things easier for Agatha to accept as well. Then, Agatha realized that Samantha was looking straight into her eyes, a playful smile coloring her lips. Agatha would have blushed more, but she had already reached her physical limit, so it was a shock she avoided. She avoided Samantha's gaze and turned her eyes to where her hands were resting and that was a tactical error, she realized a second later when she realized that she could still see Thaddeus' axis out of the corner of her eye. She knew she should avoid looking at him, seeing him squirm freely under her sister's touch. She wanted to blame the fog that began to fill her mind, making it increasingly difficult to think and in a way, she was right to blame that, as she would never have seen her sisters' hands dancing on her boyfriend's cock if it hadn't been for her. by the fog that clouded her thoughts, slowing them to creep in and yet, even if she was right to blame the fog, it didn't make much difference considering its source. She would like to blame it on alcohol, but the amount of alcohol she had previously consumed really wasn't enough for such a reaction. They certainly weren't connected to the grunts of satisfaction that came out of Thaddeus's mouth, nor the erotic moans that escaped Samantha's mouth and that's what she tried to tell herself at least, but unfortunately it rang false in her soul. Lost in her mind, Agatha arrived too late to notice that her sister's hand was no longer wrapped around Thaddeus' cock, nor did she notice when Samantha walked towards her until she was already behind her and only after hearing Samantha's whisper , she finally realized that the situation had changed and it was too late. "It's definitely an impressive sight. Don't you think so, sister?" Samantha asked softly with a smirk. Agatha silently winced in surprise, taken aback by her sister's sudden presence. She quickly opened her mouth to answer, but at the same time she felt Samantha's hand grabbing her hair, increasing the priority of questioning her sister. "Samantha, what-" Agatha said quickly, only for Samantha to push her forward, and Agatha felt her words being interrupted by something that filled her mouth, fully and completely. "I think you've been such a naughty girl, such a naughty sister, blatantly spying on us, spending time alone with my boyfriend in the bathroom, blatantly watching as I masturbate with my boyfriend..." Samantha said casually and Agatha quickly tried to pull away to answer, but Samantha's hand prevented her from getting up. "No, naughty sister, you risked your luck today and deserve some punishment." For a minute they held their ground. Eager for the impending punishment and distracted by the girth of Thaddeus in her mouth, only a minute later it occurred to Agatha that pushing Samantha away and exercising her authority as guardian was a viable solution, but even after realizing it, Agatha hesitated to act and that hesitation simply cost her. to her, the punishment came in the form of a slap, leaving a sticky effect on her ass. She tried to speak, but the presence of Thaddeus' cock in her mouth ensured that the only sound she could produce was an indecipherable muffled sound. She wasn't able to produce even that with the next slap, however, when the sudden pressure of Samantha's other hand pushed Thaddeus' cock deeper into her mouth, the crown pressing against the entrance to her throat. Samantha loosened the pressure on the back of her neck after a few strokes, allowing her to lift her head a little. Thaddeus's cock was still in her mouth, but it was no longer pressing against her throat and happy to be able to breathe unrestricted, Agatha didn't much mind the pain of another smack on her ass. She tried to pull her head back, hoping the ordeal was over, though the wave of disappointment rising in her heart at the thought surprised her. She couldn't really have enjoyed that moment of indignity her sister did to her, could she? Samantha's next action made the matter moot for the moment, as to simply prove that the previous moment was the calm before the storm, Samantha lowered her head once more, this time deep enough to force Thaddeus' cock past the entrance. from her throat, lodged deep inside her, choking helplessly at the unexpected presence along with the slaps her sister was giving her ass became an afterthought. Samantha relaxed the pressure occasionally, allowing her to catch her breath before pushing her head down once more, but even in the context of what was happening, her next action managed to shock her to the bone, her hand landing on the flesh of her chest. another hard slap, but this time, instead of coming out, his hand began to slide down, unimpeded until Agatha felt Samantha's thin, immaculate fingers caress her lower lips. She was completely soaked, much to her embarrassment, and the sudden surge of pleasure originating from her sister's fingers did nothing to cure her shame. She should have raged with rage. She wanted to be angry, or at least that's what she told herself, however the way she dutifully sucked Thaddeus' cock under Samantha's guidance was enough to show her strength of conviction, she realized that fact. cynically. Then Samantha's fingers twirled and Agatha felt her body squirm with strange pleasure. The magnitude of the pleasure was vastly different compared to the times she tended to her own needs, something that had been normal since she became Head of Department during the war, with most men in her life intimidated by her. or trying to curry favor with her to ask for future political favors, and that had definitely been so bad that sometimes she'd simply wished a brave soul would shove her across the table and fuck her mercilessly. Agatha didn't really expect that brave soul to be her sister nor did she imagine said sister's boyfriend lying down, stuffing her throat with his thick cock. Still, she wasn't exactly in a position where she could be demanding, Agatha noted curiously with a brief moment of dark humor and she curiously felt a pair of round objects pressing into her back. "Do you like the attention you're getting now, mischievous sister?" Samantha asked softly in a whisper in her ear, but the way she kept her hand on Agatha's head showed that Samantha didn't expect an answer, which made Agatha happy, because that way at least she was saved from the indignity of answering that one. question, especially when she didn't think she would be able to answer in the negative, she didn't have the willpower to fight her urges, especially when a storm of pleasure took over her soul. Agatha casually felt the pressure at the back of her neck disappear, only to immediately reappear over her breast. She felt Samantha's fingers sinking deep into the generous flesh of her breasts, but it was just an afterthought. More importantly, without the pressure, she was able to get up easily, leaving her mouth free to deliver a disappointing speech aimed at her sister, although she wasn't sure how convincing that would be, for example, she was having trouble convincing herself. Agatha continued to nod around Thaddeus' cock. The decision was automatic, but at no time did Agatha try to change it. She was already too caught up in the pleasure, and there was no point in stopping, it would only nullify the climax on which the foundation had been built in the last few hours. Still, she appreciated the presence of two new hands, pressing her hair into rougher skin than her sister's Pure Blood Princess hands, taking away Agatha's resolve, even the fact that they were forcing her to go. Even deeper into his cock was insignificant compared to the freedom that came from the lack of choice, leaving her free to enjoy her treatment, already skirting the edge of the abyss, Agatha finally climaxed seconds later. She would have passed out if not for her sister's quick thinking, wrapping her arm around her waist to support her shaky legs. She felt the presence of Thaddeus leaving her mouth as Samantha pulled her up. She gave it a slight push and Agatha followed the direction without protest, not even checking where they were going. Samantha asked her to lift her leg to the side, then throw it on the table, which Agatha hadn't thought to question until the movement was almost complete, when she felt something familiar casually touch her pussy. Agatha's eyes instantly widened in panic, only to see that she had already positioned herself above Thaddeus' cock, the slightest movement enough to impale her. Agatha quickly opened her mouth to say something, about to protest that she wouldn't go that far. 'Not yet at least…' Agatha thought silently as a traitorous part of her brain literally screamed out loud, but just like before, her decision was made by her sister, the sudden presence of her hands on her shoulders contributing to a slight rise. of weight and just a small addition of weight was more than enough to destroy the delicate balance she maintained. Agatha shifted casually, occupied by the sensation Thaddeus's cock generated as it invaded her insides. "Yea!" Agatha exclaimed aloud, all her thoughts of leaving what she was doing and walking away, shattered by the sudden onslaught of pleasure. A pair of arms slipped around her, fingers sliding toward her rock-hard nipples over the smooth curves of her breasts. "It's really good, right sister?" Samantha whispered seductively in Agatha's ear. "You're definitely so grounded when this is over, young lady." Agatha said it quickly out loud, though it really wasn't an easy task, each word interrupted by another sigh like a moan of pleasure she'd never felt fill her soul. "Same?" Samantha asked monotonously, laughing happily as her fingers pinched one of Agatha's nipples, her other hand slowly descending, caressing her skin tenderly as she went. "I have no objection to that, dear sister," Samantha said happily in a low voice, her hand finally reaching the point where Thaddeus' cock disappeared and reappeared repeatedly in her sister's, but her fingers didn't stay still, drawing circles around her. around your clitoris. "But if we're doling out punishments, I think this is the perfect time for you to spy on us without permission." Samantha casually said out loud and Agatha instantly opened her mouth to respond, but Samantha cut her off. "But I'm not cruel like you, so I'll give you another option. You want to choose punishment..." Samantha said calmly extremely slowly and Agatha prepared to choose the second option, after all there was no way she would prefer to be punished for her sister... "I want the punishment!" Agatha practically screamed in panic, feeling embarrassed by the speed with which she managed to give in. "Good answer, sister." Samantha said happily before pushing Agatha forward once more until Agatha's breasts pressed hard against Thaddeus' chest, but the detail paled into something more important, her lips were separated by a hair's breadth from Thaddeus's lips. distance that Thaddeus was not willing to simply ignore, as he proved by crossing the rest of his tongue in his mouth like thunder. One of his hands ran through her hair until she found a good grip, then he curled her hair into his fist, not caring about the pain it inflicted and in contrast, his other hand danced down her back, giving her a tender massage, but passionate, along her column. Thaddeus's attention distracted Agatha from the promised punishment until she felt a strange sensation in her ass. She didn't understand what had happened until she felt the presence of her sister's fingers once more, but this time, pressing for an entrance that shouldn't be touched! Agatha quickly tried to pull away from Thaddeus' kiss to keep Samantha from playing with a place as dirty as her ass, but Thaddeus' grip was too strong for her to overcome. "Don't worry about it dear sister, I've already cleaned and oiled it." Samantha said happily, continuing with a soft laugh. "Magic is definitely so wonderful." Samantha added casually, clearing up the little mystery about the earlier sensation, noting that Agatha had time to appreciate the knowledge, her attention stolen by Samantha's fingers pressing against her entrance and the presence of Samantha's finger made clear as he slid inside, stretching. your hole little by little. Agatha adorably moaned, the sound promptly suppressed as Thaddeus' tongue was busy moistening her lips, yet even her attention was unable to cry out in pain when she felt a second finger added to the mix. "Such a beautiful sound, Madam Bond." Thaddeus said casually, taking advantage of the fact that Agatha's mouth was free, her hands slipped and grabbed Agatha's hips, steadying herself before he quickly began impaling her furiously, heightening her climax. Agatha quickly felt pleasure flood her body, and a shiver took over her body, with an intensity she had never experienced before in her life, a wave of black and white light invading her vision and a haze she barely noticed when Thaddeus he came out of her pussy stuffed with his thick cream, his arms wrapping around her body, taking her somewhere else. It was just amazing, traveling effortlessly, a pair of arms holding her in a bridal hug, promising her it was okay not to be in control for the first time away from the Board of Governors that scrutinized her every move, away from the Legal Department. who looked at her with an emotionless harpy, away from the Minister who was expecting the slightest weakness to simply fire her… Here, wrapped in his arms for the first time, none of them mattered. She pressed her head against Thaddeus's chest, letting his hard beat lull her to sleep… Only to come to life with a hard slap from soft fingers. "Don't sleep yet, dear sister." Samantha said happily with a cheeky smile painted on her face. Agatha actually blushed even more. She wouldn't even bother lying to herself, her authority over her sister was more useless than a paper tiger, and bothering to say otherwise was a waste of both their time. Then they reached her room, and Thaddeus tossed her onto the bed, releasing her from the obligation to answer, and for a moment, Agatha simply lay on her back, her body exposed to the two young adults in her room, scrutinizing her avidly. and then Thaddeus climbed onto the bed, grabbed his legs and lifted them until they rested on his shoulders. "Are you ready for this, Agatha?" Thaddeus whispered softly under his breath, his crown pressing against her rear entrance. Agatha would definitely have said no, but the torrent of desire coursing through her wouldn't let her do that. She casually nodded silently, then her gaze moved to the left where her sister was sitting in her favorite work chair with her legs spread and as she wasn't wearing a single piece of clothing, it resulted in an incredible view, with his body on display, but even his distraction was unable to deflect the sensation of invasion as Thaddeus' cock slowly filled his back door, which he managed to remain untouched until he managed to get the attention of Thaddeus "Bloody" Windermere. "Caution." Agatha gasped softly under her breath as panic grew stronger with each passing second as Thaddeus traveled deeper inside her. "We're definitely going to have a great time, Agatha." Thaddeus said happily in a low voice as his hands slid down Agatha's leg until they reached her pussy, teasing her lower lips gently. "A tough girl like you shouldn't cry over a little twinge of pain, like simple anal penetration." Thaddeus said casually aloud and pushed his entire cock into Agatha's ass. Agatha would definitely have said something angry if it hadn't been for the simple wave of pain and pleasure that immediately washed over her, draining her mind until the distinction between words and meaningless mistakes disappeared and there was only the feeling of being totally and completely filled. Again and again… Then Agatha felt a presence hovering over her head and heard a voice, but her mind was beyond the point of deciphering its meanings. She opened her eyes and recognized the presence of Samantha, whose legs had parted on either side of her head, her lower lips hovering just above her own lips, and Agatha, far beyond the point of shock, stuck out her tongue as she Samantha closed the remaining distance, filling her mouth with an unfamiliar but pleasant flavor from her younger sister and at this point, her sense of time joined her ability to understand words as yet another ability Agatha had temporarily lost, not that she if you cared. She let her mind wander in a sea of pleasure, her ship adrift in the winds of ecstasy, and finally, Agatha felt a tsunami of pleasure, drowning her world in a beautiful, soft darkness... ~xXx~

Chapter 18 - Miidnight Interrogation

It was almost midnight and Larissa had just entered her room to get some sleep when she felt the menacing presence of a firm, callused hand pressing hard against her mouth, stopping an instinctive scream that was building in her lungs. "Greetings, Little Larissa." A mysteriously familiar voice whispered in her ear. The voice was definitely familiar, but with the grip of fear painfully tight around her heart, her brain instantly frayed for a moment, the answer evading her grasp, and meanwhile, her captor's other hand slid down her torso until they reached her. her breasts and sank into her soft flesh, the fragile texture of her nightgown proving insufficient to stave off the intruder's attack and at that point, panic and fear must have invaded her soul until Larissa was a wreck, unable to think, but instead she felt a surprising mix of arousal and arousal spread through her body it was this surge of pleasure more than anything else that allowed her to identify her abuser and only one man made her feel this way, just a man taught her what a mind-numbing pleasure was. Larissa simply stopped struggling and let her body relax, her back resting comfortably against his chest, enjoying the way his chest muscles rippled and the determined effort of his hand as he tried to unravel the fabric of her nightgown was another dimension of pleasure and then the hand he was using to silence her changed, first he slid it to her cheek, leaving the softest touch she'd ever felt, its aftermath burning and then he slid it back down her neck, hard enough to break it. him with the slightest twist, sending a new series of shivers through her body, her own delicious helplessness. Then he traced his hands down, stroking her spine as they went, leaving a perfect tingling sensation behind. "Welcome, my Lord." Larissa whispered softly in a husky voice. Thaddeus definitely didn't say anything for a moment, busy with his self-appointed task of massaging Larissa's body, his hands massaging her buttocks, holding and pulling. Larissa wanted to scold him for sneaking into her room in the middle of the night, but she had a feeling her own body would never forgive her for interrupting the attention she was receiving and so she remained still, enjoying the touch of his nimble fingers as they explored. his hips and yet even the rising tide of pleasure wasn't enough to make her forget one very important fact. Thaddeus had snuck into the building without the wards registering his presence. The method he employed to do this was a complete mystery to Larissa and even though she was currently housed in one of the vacation properties and not the Mallory mansion, therefore, she was not under the protection of the ancient and truly fearsome wings, the ones that Protecting the vacation home were still comprehensive and well made, after all Mallory wasn't a family that could skimp on money when it came to protection, not with the number of enemies they've gathered along their dubious ascent and it was a Herculean feat to be able to Despite penetrating such barriers far beyond the ability of normal people, destroying them in one night would be impressive enough, however, Larissa chose not to ask the questions related to the magical details of her conquest, not wanting to interrupt the achingly beautiful attention she received. she was suffering the minutes silently flowed by, her hands making significant progress on their self-proclaimed mission to destroy her tongue. laugh through friction. At least, she assumed, her fingers were leaving burn marks on the parts of the skin they visited, after all, it was hard to imagine how fragile fabric could resist the passion behind them. She kept her eyes closed, enjoying the feast of sensations. "So…" The Interrogator whispered teasingly in Larissa's ear a long time later, at which point Larissa began to struggle with an impending climax. "What dirty secrets are you going to sing to me today?" Larissa, definitely hearing his suggestive tone of voice, felt a shiver run through her body, hijacking her thoughts and with her mind occupied with the emotions aroused by that, many words came out of her mouth without any forgetting. "You need to torture them out of me." Larissa said quickly, the words instantly forming in the air before disappearing, allowing a sense of shock to fill the room. Thaddeus paused for a moment, surprised by her statement and Larissa didn't really blame him, after all, her surprise was probably greater, a feeling of apprehension coursed through her body, which was to be expected, but the wave of anticipation that surged when the The answer came out of her lips, no, but after a moment of perplexity, she realized that those words showed her true feelings. She longed for his steady hand, taking control as Thaddeus had during their previous encounter, to play with her as if she were just a toy. Thaddeus must have understood her feelings, because he leaned even closer, his teeth grazing Larissa's earlobe. "Is that so, my dear?" The Interrogator whispered hoarsely, the question was not empty. It was the only barrier that existed between Larissa and a maddening mixture of pleasure and pain, applied until she lay down on her bed. Still, there was no delay between the question and his answer. Larissa's head moved up and down quickly in approval. "The safe word is siren." The Interrogator whispered his throaty, sensual tone one last time, then Larissa felt his delicate hands twist into a tight grip, pushing her hard. She found herself in her bed, her face buried in her pillow after a small fall. She turned to face him... Only for her throat to constrict in panic. He was a different man standing in front of her. The mischievous, self-assured youth is gone, replaced by a cold-blooded war mage capable of inflicting the most horrific torture with just a touch. Even the absence of a wand, something that would remove any intimidating factor under normal circumstances, made him scarier. Gulan stood above her, thinking he had emerged from his cage in the depths of the oceans, just for her interrogation, ready to mete out the most devastating punishment with the slightest sign of resistance. Larissa just watched her mundane concerns like breathing, losing its importance as she tried to keep from collapsing against the wall of pressure building in her heart, leaving no room for anything else…. And then Thaddeus simply lost control of his magic and something enveloped her, her breath caught as if she were submerged in water, the pressure strong enough to keep her from moving. Larissa could feel her willpower collapsing like a gingerbread house, even though she knew there was no real malice behind her suffocating presence. As soon as she was about to utter the safe word, the weight of the magic would be cut off as suddenly as her arrival and able to breathe once more, Larissa's chest rose and fell repeatedly, trying to prepare for the next wave. "You know what I want." The Interrogator spoke again, his voice sharp and hard. "I will not say anything." Larissa managed to say it quickly, doing her best to make the words audible, only to reach a voice above a whisper. "So be it then." The Interrogator said in an icy tone of voice, his tone sharp enough to fill Larissa's heart with cold, even though she knew it was just a role. "I didn't want to rely on physical torture, but you leave me no choice." The Interrogator said, monotonously, his tone heating up even more with each sentence, setting Larissa's heart on fire along with it. He lifted his fist, then squeezed, and four thick silver chains wound around its edges, their material further highlighting the power differential between him and her. Larissa just wasn't able to spend much time thinking about her implications, because her bed rose to an upright position with the next movement, her position shifting along with him. "This is your last chance." The Interrogator said casually in a husky voice. "Still not talking?" Larissa casually shook her head in denial, definitely not wanting to interrupt things just when they were finally getting interesting. Thaddeus raised his hand once more and a blade appeared in her hand. It wasn't a simple instrument, Larissa was definitely fascinated, it was pure platinum, long blade, covered in stylized snakes, plus a pair of large rubies on the handle, she could definitely feel the chill spreading from her, especially when Thaddeus brought her close. From her skin, her breath caught as he brought it to his neck, just a hair's breadth from her skin, the safe word rising to her lips, but luckily she had enough presence of mind to keep it from leaving her mouth. Thaddeus gave him a mischievous grin, his fire matched only by the coldness of his blade. He dragged the blade down, the fabric of her nightgown coming undone as it came into contact with the tip of his blade. Soon, she was naked, wrapped in chains, hanging helplessly from the bedroom wall and Larissa was more aroused than she had ever been in her life, her juices flowing unrestrained after her panties found her razor edge, pooling around her feet. next to her lingerie. Then Thaddeus pressed the blunt side of the blade into Larissa's shoulder, descending along her torso, leaving a cold trail behind, Larissa simply shivered in pleasure. "Is anyone still resisting? This is really amazing." The Interrogator whispered happily in a low voice. "I see I need to improve my game to break you." The Interrogator said aloud and raised the blade towards Larissa's shoulder. The safe word was on her lips once more, afraid that Thaddeus was about to use the other side of the blade, but it wasn't said as he pressed the blunt side of the blade once more and began to drag downwards, reflecting his previous move. For a moment, Larissa was confused, trying to figure out what was different. Then Thaddeus leaned over and pressed his lips to the first spot her knife touched, his lips burning in perfect contrast to the ice that was left behind. Larissa simply shivered once more, but this time, it had nothing to do with the temperature. "You resisted fear." The Interrogator said softly in a low voice. "Now let's see how well you can resist the pleasure." Larissa, despite her best effort to remain silent, a helpless, needy moan escaped Larissa's lips. The interrogator curiously looked into her eyes, then turned his attention to her skin, tracing a trail of ice with his hot lips on her icy skin. She managed to suppress other reactions in her body, at least the most marked ones. Nothing she could do could stop the anticipatory shudder that enveloped her body, intensifying with every impression the interrogator's lips left on her, but even that only lasted until he brought his blade against her skin once more, this time. Once drawing a circle on the sensitive skin around her nipple and the sudden sting of cold, followed by her flames, was impossible for her to bear, her voice leapt free, breaking the tenuous control she'd managed to exert. Overwhelmed with pleasure, Larissa barely noticed when Thaddeus disappeared the knife he was holding and concentrated on her body with both hands, running freely over her body in place of his lips, which were glued to her breasts, teasing her nipples with irregular strokes and lack of success in anticipation only making the feeling more intense. It certainly didn't help when his fingers brushed her lower lips with a gentle touch, but he didn't take any time before sliding down her inner thighs. She wanted to beg him to simply devastate her mercilessly, to drown her in pleasure, but the role she was playing stopped her. She should be a victim of his mercy after all, however, remembering that particular fact was getting harder and harder as the pressure from her hands increased even more, her itchy skin becoming unbearable along with it and the occasional flare-up of nipple pain as her teeth suddenly snapped together wasn't making her resistance any easier. "I really can't see why you're still resisting?" The Interrogator asked casually in a low voice, before rising higher and stealing another kiss from Larissa's neck, which turned into a mid-bite bite. "Wouldn't it be better if you told me what I want so I can stop your torture?" Larissa definitely agreed with his words. She wanted to whisper the safe word, release him to release the intense wave of pleasure that had captured her the last time, but the glint in her eyes stopped her. "So be it then." The Interrogator said coldly in a low voice, his tone sending a fresh wave of chills over Larissa's skin. Larissa silently watched with great interest as her hands reached for her pants belt, unlocking it with one smooth movement. He pulled her pants up to her ankles, his shirt falling down beside her a second later, leaving him only in boxers as he climbed out of the pile of clothes. She did her best to keep her role, but it was difficult with the wave of anticipation that roused her as she watched his throbbing manhood exposed to her gaze. "You can not do that." Larissa managed to say in an attempt to maintain her role as a prisoner, but she was aware that the occasional intelligible words she managed to form between sighs and deep breaths were hardly convincing, her answer, however, was extremely convincing and the interrogator walked on. toward her until their faces almost touched, then hissed threateningly dripping from her every word. "Oh, but I will. You've resisted too much and lost any chance to rest. You're at my mercy now." The Interrogator said calmly and interrupted his speech with a deep breath, even as he leaned into Larissa's ear. "And let me tell you a secret." The Interrogator happily whispered. "I'm not feeling particularly merciful today." Distracted by her own shivers, Larissa was instantly caught off guard when Thaddeus thrust into her forcefully, forcing his entire body into her in one motion and a cry of pain tore from her mouth, one that was dismissed by Thaddeus as he pulled away, only to to push again before her screaming subsided. Not that Larissa was complaining, as the pain was nothing compared to the frustration that enslaved her. He kept pushing, each adding another dose of pleasure to the mix and soon enough, the pain was simply a fading memory in the sea of pleasure Larissa was swimming in. And meanwhile, his hands and mouth were occupied with her body, his lips took a position around her neck, his lingering attack occasionally supported by his teeth, his hands roamed her body without restraint, paying attention to every sensitive spot, even discovering some that Larissa didn't know existed, passion covered her body, trapped under her dead-end skin, obscuring reality, replacing it with a twisted fairy tale. Larissa wanted to wrap her legs around his waist, trapping him inside, giving him strength as he struck her repeatedly, but the chains that held her legs immobile prevented any action on her part, forcing her to remain a passive recipient. , a role she happily fulfilled anyway, his assault on her body drowning her in a level of pleasure she never thought possible and the climax that hit her was sudden, erasing all thoughts of her from her mind, draining her consciousness. . She barely noticed when the chains around her ankles disappeared, and her wrists began to move, forcing her arms to meet her back, the bed turning once more to be horizontal. She found herself lying on the bed, face buried in a pillow, her bottom raised in preparation, as her consciousness resumed its full function and before she could say anything, Thaddeus thrust his cock inside her once more. That was the wrong hole, Larissa definitely wanted to scream, but a slap on her backside told her that her objection was understood and rejected, after all with the position she was holding, it was very difficult to confuse the two entrances, which meant her presence it was intentional, and considering how easily he'd managed to get himself inside her ass, he'd already prepped her ass without her noticing and clearly that even with the prep, it wasn't exactly painless. Not that she minded, of course. She tried to lift her head, only for one hand to wrap around her hair, forcibly burying her head in the pillow, the loud sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing off the walls of the room. "I'll tell you whatever secrets you want." Larissa said softly in a low voice, only to panic a second later. What if he took her words at face value and stopped the attention she was getting? "It's too late for that." The Interrogator whispered in her ear, putting her fears aside. "You dared to defy my words, do you think I'm going to let you get away just because you've lost your ability to resist?" The Interrogator asked curiously, his attack on his tight hole continued without a sign of slowing, each thrust pushing him deeper. "Compassion." Larissa muttered softly under her breath, only for Thaddeus' hand to reach for her nipple, twisting it mercilessly and it was too much for her to handle and an earthquake controlled her, shaking her relentlessly. Her pace didn't even slow, continually boring into her even as she pushed into unconsciousness. Thaddeus grabbed her arms that were tied behind her and pulled hard enough to force her torso up, pain reverberating through her body, pushing back the drowsy mist. "Did you really think I was going to unknowingly take you down you bitch!?" Larissa just lay there saying nothing, enjoying the moment. She could get used to this kind of punishment, she realized as she was being forced into another wave of sensation, about to drown in pleasure… ~xXx~

Chapter 7 - My Turn

He put the jar away on the table. Those few scratches were nothing worthy bothering with right now. “Do you really have a butt-plug with a wolf tail?” He asked, undoing her ponytail. Her red hair flew down her ashen shoulders. He ran his hand alongside it, pleased to feel the smooth strands. “No. Well, not yet.” She admitted. She was contemplating getting one, but this didn’t seem a good idea anymore. “Ah, then I’m safe?” He questioned further. He wasn’t sure was she being serious, but better safe than sorry. “I do have a collar that matches your size.” She assured laughing. “Bring it over here.” He suddenly proposed. “Are you sure?” Caye was surprised. “Why in Oblivion not? Might as well have some more fun with your twisted toys.” “They’re not twisted! They’re sophisticated!” His wife protested. “Right, right. Go get the collar.” He requested, pinching her side. She squeaked just like he liked it. Caye got up from his lap, smiling embarrassed. Maybe the night wasn’t lost yet? She found the broad collar buried in her toys. It was leather, with no decorations save for a small ring that could allow a leash being attached. “Get a leash while you’re at it!” He called from behind reading her mind. “Anything else?” She inquired, attaching a thin suede leash to the collar. It was purely symbolic, one hard tug could rip it. “Take those boots off. You could kill with those heels.” Farkas instructed, lounging in the chair. “Anything else, treasure?” Her brow twitched. “Come here already…” He grinned, when she was once again within arm’s reach. Per his request, she took the deadly boots off. Her little feet made no sound as she approached. “There, fits you like a glove” Caye said warmly, as the collar was put over his neck. The leash was in safely her hand. “Woof” he teased, rubbing his cheek against her stomach. They still hadn’t any children, mayhap it was time to change that? “I’m terrible for liking such things.” The elf sighed. “It was kinda fun, so we’re both terrible. Now, be a nice Mistress and sit on the edge of the table. Thaaat’s it” he muttered when her thighs spread. “Those should go” he added, bending over her womb. He ripped what was left of the mesh panties with his teeth. Tossing them aside, he licked her hairless pussy. Gods, a man who wouldn’t do this to his woman was no man at all! Elves tasted a whole lot different from women of his own kind: spicier. “Ah…” She sighed, resting flat on the wooden surface. He knew how to eat. She tugged on the leash a bit, he grunted in response. “You know…” He started, stroking her thighs. “Yes, treasure?” She muttered with eyes closed. “You have the potion?” Farkas asked, meaning the contraceptive. “Of course.” “Mind… not using it tonight?” Her eyes suddenly opened wide, she looked down upon her husband, who was looking back at her, busy with her clit. “Well… Why not?” She agreed, relaxing completely. They were married for almost a year now, they could afford having children and she was in the prime of fertility. Reproduction was difficult for elves, but mating with men was surprisingly easy. And half-elves were the picture of health compared to purely elven infants. “That’s great… Though if it ever asks how it was conceived…” His brows raised. “We’ll make up an elaborate lie about the moonlight, a hidden meadow and fireflies.” She assured. He laughed, shaking his head in amusement, then got back to work. Her quiet cooing made his blood flow faster, it was hard to believe her voice could be so warm. As he stuck his tongue inside her trembling pussy, she let a short wail escape her lungs. He pinched her clit, grinded it with his large, rough fingers. Caye squirmed edgily. “Hm?” He gave her a short glance when she tugged on the leash a few times. “I want to feel you in my mouth.” “Huh? You’re gonna have to speak plain, dear.” He pretended not to understand. He wanted to make her talk dirty, he wanted to see her pale lips form words she would never say in public. “Farkas!” She hissed, pulling the suede lead harder. “Right here.” He said patiently, running his finger up and down her moist slit. He wasn’t in a hurry. She fell silent, biting her lip. She never had problems with voicing her desires and she wasn’t ashamed of her cravings. But using such vulgar language was… uncalled for. And yet, this was just between them, so she shouldn’t feel embarrassment. She took a deep breath, looking him straight in the eye. She found her unusual eye coloring a true blessing, as it was impossible to determine the direction she was looking at. But she had the irrational feeling he’d notice if she’d look away. “Please, I want…” “Can’t hear you.” He smiled heartily. “By the Gods, I want to suck your cock so bad, I’ll go mad if you won’t let me!” She cried out, feeling her cheeks burn. “As you wish, Mistress” her lover said with a victorious grin. “No, no, stay as you are” he instructed, holding her in place by the hips as she was about to slide off the table onto her knees. He got up and walked to the opposite edge of the table, running his hand along the length of her body whilst he was at it. His fingers left smears of her clear vaginal moist on her belly and chest. The leash was long enough not to choke him on his way. “Pull yourself a bit up, love, I want your head over the edge. And stick your tongue out.” Caye did so, relaxing her jaw and throat, eager to have him use her mouth. She clutched the leash as her husband teased her flattened tongue with his tip. She could taste her own juices on the smooth, glossy glans, mixing with precum. Semiconsciously, she reached down her abdomen, towards her pleasantly itching cunt. “Nah-ah! Both hands on your chest, like a well-mannered lady!” He reprimanded, pinching her cheek. In response, she puffed like an angered kitten. He firmly squeezed the base of his shaft and pushed forward, feeling her tongue curve to firmly fit to the veined, velvet skin. Her tonsils gave in, his entire cock smoothly slid into her throat. The Dunmer’s chest rose, her perky nipples pointed straight at the ceiling. With his free hand Farkas teased them, feeling their slightly rough texture under his fingertips. Caye breathed as slow and deep as possible, allowing her man’s member to freely move back and forth in her mouth and throat. She wanted to rub her clit and finger herself, but it seemed that the leash she was so desperately clutching was restraining her more than him. Apparently, the tables have turned. She coughed a bit when she realized the irony behind that statement. He paused for a moment, allowing her to catch her breath. Strange, he went easy on her, she shouldn’t gag. After a longer moment, he resumed, speeding up the pace. He gently pressed his hand to her throat, feeling under his palm how his penis was gliding inside her. It was surprising how much she could take. Though, he’d never ask how she became so good at deep-throating. He knew he wouldn’t like the answer. She started to drool, feeling her pussy overflow as well. Her labials were soaked along with the solid wooden surface under her ass. Damn patience and dignity, she wanted him! Now! Like a spoiled child, she pulled the leash with both hands, hauling him closer and almost choking on his manhood. “Whoa, whoa! You want me to hurt you?!” He warned, pulling out with a loud wet sound. “I want you to fuck me right now!” She demanded, her eyes and lips were glimmering. The upside-down look on her husband’s face was completely dumbfounded. “You’re a crazy woman” he announced, wiping saliva from her cheeks. “Hold on for a sec, I have an idea what to do with you, spoiled missy.” He got back between her legs. There was one position he always wanted to try out with his petite lady. He bend over the table’s edge, his hands rested flat on the surface. “Wrap yourself around me tight. I’m gonna take you for a ride.” “Ride? What ri…? Oh!” She squeaked when he slipped his hands under her behind and picked up. She descended upon his cock with no difficulty, he stuffed her completely, stretching her slippery walls. Farkas straddled his legs for better support and thrust his hips, tossing her up in the air. Caye held him tight with her arms and legs, giggling like a teenager, despite being over a century old. “Having fun?” He asked naughtily. “Yes! Just be careful, please!” She pleaded, sinking her nails into his shoulders. She loved to have it so spontaneously, and joyfully. With him, sex was never boring. “Love, you don’t even weight half of what I do, I could take you on a tour around the whole house like this. We’ll be fine.” He assured after a series of short, but powerful thrusts. She moaned and wailed into his ear, as he kept relentlessly pumping her tight elven pussy with no signs of fatigue. She bend her head back, her hair chaotically waved in the air. Her humble breasts grinded against his pilous chest, their sweat mixed. “Talk to me” he whispered into her pointed ear, before biting it “like you never talk when in company.” “Treasure” the elf fought to keep tears from her eyes. “I feel you so painfully deep.” “Want me to slow down?” “No!” She protested, scratching his perspiring back. “Azura, why didn’t you come up with this sooner?! Oh!” She paused to bend back a bit, her titties bounced with his every move. “I’m almost there! Please, I want you to cum inside my pussy! I want you to impregnate me tonight!” “You got it!” He grunted, his teeth shone in the warm light. Although free of the werewolf curse, he still had a few bestial traits. Ejaculating under a lot of pressure and in large quantity being among the most notable. As the heat inside her vagina reached its peak, Caye climaxed, calling out various patrons of the Dunmer. When he felt the first spasms of her pussy, squeezing his cock, he came himself, shooting a thick, rich stream of sperm inside her. She welcomed it with a cry, almost a scream. As the burning in her womb passed, she rested her sweaty forehead on his shoulder, breathing franticly, waiting for her heartbeat to stabilize. Farkas kept lazily jerking his hips, enjoying her whimpers and last convulses. She squeezed her muscles tightly, as barely a few drops of his seed leaked out. When she calmed down, he laid her on the table and reluctantly pulled out. It was that moment when they both learned how generously he filled her with sperm; white creamy streams spurted from her worn out vag, onto the table surface and dripped down on the floor. Neither had the intention of cleaning it up now. “If this won’t knock you over, I don’t know what will.” He joked, brushing his hair off his face. “How charming” she managed to whisper, still too feeble to stand on her own. “I need a drink. A small one.” She added, stroking herself on the tummy. She felt pure bliss knowing his seed won’t go to waste tonight. “You said something about horker?” He recalled, sitting in the chair next to the table. “It’s on the stove, all you have to do is heat it up” Caye muttered with her eyes closed. She was too tired to play housewife now. “Help yourself to it, I’m going to bed.” “Figures. I do all the work but you’re the one who needs a nap.” He sighed, finally reaching for the healing ointment. She scratched his shoulders like an alley cat in heat. “I can put my boots back on and work you some more” she yawned. They both knew she was bluffing. “I think we both had enough for tonight.” He said, taking the collar off. “Are you okay?” She inquired concerned. It was time for the aftermath. “Better than ever.” “You’re not mad?” “Nope. This was…” he took a moment to find the right word. “Different. But fun, if not funny. We can do this once every…” “Month or so?” She proposed cautiously. She didn’t need perverse sex more often than that. “Sounds good” he agreed. “Still sleepy?” “Not so much.” “Dinner?” “And a small drink.”

Chapter 5 - Quick Drink

“Ah, Harbinger! You humble me with your presence!” Her brother in-law greeted her flamboyantly. For a moment she was confounded, then laughed. “That was a good one, I almost believed you.” She stated, sitting at his side. He was a malicious bastard, but his predatory wits made up for it. He was her husband’s exact twin, and yet they were so different. And there was something else about him. She sensed him as her kin. Someone who enjoys a little pinch and squeal every once in a while. She was curious of his level of skill and what tricks he knew. Vilkas had no suspicions about the little elf. But even if he’d learn the truth, she was safe. Thankfully, neither of them found the other attractive, yet it would end up in a sexual bloodbath. They raised their mugs and drank. “How goes it?” He asked nonchalantly. “Oh…” for a moment she wanted to grab him by the collar of his armor, pull him closer and whisper into his ear ‘Your brother is tied up in our cellar with my lingerie covering his eyes and stuffing his mouth. I whipped him and then put a ring and a Prince’s Wand on his cock. He’s bound and humiliated, patiently waiting for my return. And how was your day?’ She quickly regained control of herself and simply said “Fine. And you?” “Fine.” He lied. There was something bothering him, Caye recalled he had a sort of a twisted relationship with Ria. Recently, the Imperial had grown a spine and blatantly told him she has no more time for his games, even if she used to be his bottom. Vilkas was soon approached by Aela who allowed him to crawl back on his knees to her. He was rejected by one woman and now at the mercy of the other. That wasn’t quite what the proud warrior would expect. “My little one!” Caye felt strong, yet female hands on her shoulders. Hands that could tear her to pieces with little effort. “My Sister!” She greeted Aela. Vilkas muttered an excuse and attempted to leave. “Hey!” The Huntress halted him. “What?” He asked displeased. “I got a good mammoth steak. Get a keg of mead and meet me in my room in an hour. Unless you want to make me angry.” Her voice lowered a bit. “I’m not promising anything” he replied, attempting to keep some dignity. “Males…!” Aela puffed when they were alone. “I like your new hair.” She said, brushing Caye’s ponytail. “Oh… something I improvised.” “Is Farkas in town?” Aela questioned. “No, not yet.” Caye lied without a blink. “You’re lying! I can smell him on you.” Aela stated offended. She was the only werewolf left in the Circle. She could pick up the smell of her Shield-Siblings from a mile. “You got me” the Dunmer admitted defeated. “He’s home.” “Why didn’t he come to drink with us?” “He’s… A bit tied up at the moment.” The Dark Elf explained jerking the corner of her mouth upward. It was a morbid sight. “Oh…” Aela immediately recognized the spark in the Harbinger’s creepy black eyes. “You don’t mean that figuratively, little one?” “No. I have a cozy little boudoir in our cellar. He’s waiting for me, chained to a column, stripped to his bare… In the nude.” Caye coughed, she never liked to use vulgar language. “Damn… It’s always the quiet ones.” Aela whistled. She had her faint suspicion, but just the thought of those two doing all sorts of kinky things made her jittery. “Here’s to us. Women who know where their men belong!” The elf proposed a toast. “I’ll drink to that!” They drank and ate in good spirits, until it was time for them to part. Caye strolled back home in an excellent mood. She had her beloved waiting for her and the game was still on. Her fetching, yet completely unsuitable for combat boots clacked on the stoned pavement. She opened the door with a lockpick, an old habit, and felt at ease being back home. She adjusted her hair, rinsed her mouth with mint wash and walked down the steps to the cellar. By the Gods, seeing his towering bulk so defenseless made her feel heat on her cheeks. He was all hers to love and abuse. He turned his head towards the entrance, though she made no sound. Perhaps it was her smell, perhaps it was instinct. “I’m home.” She said warmly. She undid the gloves that were blindfolding and gagging him, then pulled the mesh ball out of his mouth. It was completely soaked. Farkas coughed, his chin and neck were wet as well. “Good to see you, dear.” He said softly.

Chapter 4 - Round One

She tried to hide how nervous she was. Her dream came true! He found out, but didn’t judge. Better, he was eager to join her. Now she had to introduce him to these frivolous pleasures without scaring him off. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy traditional sex. She did. She loved to jump into bed with him and have some spontaneous, carefree fun. And then enjoy some after-sex snacks and a good drink before falling asleep at his side. But every once in a while she wanted to spice things up a bit. She reached to her gear for some rope. She then proceeded to bind his ankles to the iron rings on the floor, slightly straddling his legs. “Right where I want you.” She purred. He said nothing, patiently waiting for her next move. Her husband was well known for his fortitude and patience. She’ll have to push real hard to get a reaction from him. But unlike him, she had decades of experience. Interrogation and carnal arts were a part of her training back on Cyrodiil where she was a spy. But that didn’t matter now. He wasn’t properly dressed for the occasion. She had to correct that. With a hearty, alarming smile she clenched her fist. Purple light shone through her fingers as Caye conjured a dagger from the realm of Oblivion. “Hold still” she advised. “I don’t want to cause any permanent damage to you.” In a few quick slashes she cut his pants. Pieces of linen material slid to the floor. He hissed and frowned, as she apparently cut his skin as well. A thin red line appeared on his thigh. “Ouch.” He muttered. “You moved.” She concluded. She dispelled the dagger and climbed him like a tree. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, her little feet were resting on his hips, the heels painfully stabbing his sides. Strangely, it was a bit exciting. She was so light that he didn’t move an inch. Their eyes met. “What did I tell you about talking without permission?” She asked sternly. “That you’ll punish me if I do it.” He recalled. He didn’t even blink. His armor of tranquility was a growing annoyance. A challenge. “Mistress. You’ll punish me, Mistress.” She corrected. “I’m starting to think you enjoy hurting me.” She frowned. “I’m sorry… Mistress.” He caught on fast. She smiled pleased, jumping off him and turning to a rack with neatly hanged whips, arranged by length. She picked a whipping rod, thick and yet flexible, suitable to discipline the huge horses that populated Skyrim. She gave it a few swishes, pleased by the effect. The rod cut the air with a hissing sound. She turned to Farkas. “Is there anything you have to say for yourself?” She questioned, gently stroking his cheek with the whip. “Nothing, Mistress. You can do to me whatever you see fit.” “No points for stating the obvious, s’wit!” She hissed, suddenly striking his cheek with a loud sound. The whip left a wide, long mark on his skin. For a moment, he had a feral look on his face, his nose crinkled and his teeth were exposed. But a second later he contained himself with little effort, as usual. A second later the whip cut his other cheek for symmetry. With a grunt, he thrust his abdomen forward, exposing his unprotected belly. It was a sign of submission among wolves. “Are you meaning to tell me you give in?” She asked displeased. She suddenly realized his only flaw; he was too amiable amongst his friends. In fact, he was a terrible pushover amongst the Circle, though taunts and teasing never bothered him. He just brushed them off and did his thing. Yet, when she questioned him about his thoughts on the war, he disregarded her concerns saying that it’s too confusing and he ‘just had to be told who needs bludgeoning’. And when she became Harbinger? He did congratulate her, but carelessly said that he won’t cause her any trouble because ‘he does what he’s told’. Why couldn’t her husband be more assertive?? With a cruel look, she smite his abdominals, biting her lip as she saw red marks on his light skin. Farkas sighed, observing her through half-shut eyes. Was he daring her or did he enjoy mistreatment? His member gave away the truth, an impressive bulge was under the plain linen material of his underwear. “You’re going to have to work to make me bend my knee to you… Mistress.” He said playfully, he was getting into the mood. His hoarse low voice with a deep undertone gave her goosebumps. “Backtalk will cost you, Dog.” She promised, suddenly finding a suitable name for him. Yes, the Big Bad Wolf will be a mangy Dog in her grasp. If they’ll ever play again, she’ll have to remember to bring a red hood and cape, from an old Breton fairytale about a little girl with a red cap and a wolf. His head was resting on his chest, his breathing was loud, but steady. She tilted his chin up with the tip of the whipping rod. Gods, his war paint brought out his eye color. His irises were like a damned glacier at dawn. “Do you want me to touch your shameful regions?” She asked, gently tapping his jawlne. “Yes, Mistress.” He replied truthfully. “How?” She inquired, pulling the loose end of his undergarment. “I want you to…” he realized it was a trap. “However you think I deserve.” He corrected himself. “Good boy.” She praised. She stripped him, freeing his cock. It was an impressive thing, though its master knew how to use it and not to break his wife’s tiny pussy. “Oh… have you missed me that much?” She asked, her black eyes glimmered. She stood directly before him, with his penis between her legs. As it grew and hardened, the tip of his glans bumped against the front of her vulva, stroking her clit. Caye smiled warmly, as she put her hands on his hips and slid back and forth, teasing his head and shaft. He closed his eyes, biting his tongue. The mesh panties and lovely velvet flesh underneath made him feel as if his mind and will were melting. She was a crazy woman underneath that facade of perfect manners and education. “You’re so embarrassingly easy to please…” She muttered mockingly, her cheek rested on his broad chest. She could hear his heartbeat, it was a steady, thundering sound. “Do you want to feel me from the inside tonight?” “Yesss…” He confessed eagerly through clenched teeth. “You’re going to have to earn it first!” She conditioned. She stepped back, her husband released a displeased groan. His hips jerked forward, hoping to meet with the smooth silky slit for at least another second. “You should know the value of patience and discipline.” She said patiently. She sat on the edge of the table, shamefully spreading her legs. The mesh panties barely covered her pussy. Her outer lips were a bit darker than her ashen skin, same was with her nipples. But the inside of her vag was pale pink, sweet and juicy. “What have you got in store for me?” He asked impatiently. Gods, he liked it. He regretted he was clean. He’d break loose with little effort, were he still a werewolf. “I just remembered I had plans.” She said, thrusting her foot forward, the ebony tip of the leather boot tapped his scrotum. He turned his head away with a pained look, though it wasn’t as hard to make him convulse and fall over. “I was supposed to have a drink with Aela tonight. That was before you decided to come home earlier, so I can’t re-arrange my plans now. But you’ll wait here for me, won’t you, doggy?” “Woof.” He said, sticking out his tongue. Devious little creature! “But first I’ll give you something to remember me by.” She proposed. She unlaced the top, her small, round breasts jiggled merrily. Her sweet little nipples were erect, just begging for his lips, tongue and teeth. But she didn’t give them to him. Apparently, he didn’t deserve them yet. She turned around, her hands resting flat on the table surface, her little shapely ass facing him. He sighed, remembering how she loved to have it spanked. Why hadn’t he noticed before how much she liked that? “You be good while I’m away, and you’ll get some of that.” She promised, shaking her little buns. She quickly reached behind her with one hand and rolled her panties down. They fell to the floor, her small cunt was bright in contrast to her Dunmer skin. In the candlelight, he could see her vulva was wet. Caye picked the panties from the floor and crumpled them into a ball, which she then wrapped with the top. She approached him, clenching the mesh bundle tightly. “It should be big enough to be safe. Open your mouth” she commanded in her calm, measured voice. Farkas fought the need to snarl, and obediently opened his mouth. She immediately stuffed it with the mesh ball. She then took off her left glove, which she used to gag him. “There, almost done” she said with a smile. “But I still have some time, so I might as well pay you some courtesy, Dog.” She kneeled before him, lazily jerking his veined, naturally curved shaft. The sides of his penis’ head were jutting, so that his every thrust could be felt incredibly intense. Why hadn’t he appeared in her life sooner, when she was a frisky maiden? Right, he wasn’t even born yet… She licked his tip, observing his reaction. His eyes were set on her lips, the flushed gloss she used on them smudged, leaving a reddish circle on his foreskin. It was an incredible sight. He wanted more, he wanted her to take the whole length and suck it without haste until he came. But he wasn’t in control. He could only rely on her whim. His mouth got watery, he tasted the juices her panties were soaked with. He swallowed them with his saliva, yet more filed his mouth. He was such a sweetheart. But it was getting late. She got up, giving his sack one intense squeeze. “I should get going.” She sighed. “But I’ll keep you occupied.” With a pirouette, she tiptoed to a shelf, retrieving a small wooden box. She placed it on the table and opened. She was obstructing the view, and Farkas was very curious, or rather, alarmed what was inside. “You know, I have a better idea!” She suddenly said, closing the lid. She took her other glove off, and blindfolded him with it. The warrior’s grunt was muffled, some saliva leaked from the corner of his mouth. She caressed his cheek. He was blindfolded, kept tightly in place and gagged. What’s next? Wait… Something closed around his cock and balls! “Relax. It’s to keep the blood in your penis. I want you to stay hard.” She whispered into his ear. “Now, this will feel uncomfortable…” She warned. He felt something hard and cold slid into his urethra and close around the cap of his dick. He convulsed, though he had little room to maneuver, he felt pain. “Ungh!” “Don’t struggle. You’ll only end up hurting yourself.” She said calmly, with a solid grip on his genitals. “Almost done… there.” She slid the wretched device all the way inside. “It’s meant to keep you from ejaculating. It’s perfectly safe, if a bit uncomfortable. Would you believe some people use the version with little hooks? You’re lucky, this one has a little ball at the end.” She comforted. “Well, I should get going… I’ll send your regards to the rest, okay? Bye, treasure!” She said, kissing him on the cheek. A second later she was gone, leaving her beloved to solitary humiliation.

Chapter 8 - Epilogue

“Well, look who finally came to see his own brother!” Vilkas taunted, as his twin entered the main hall of Jorrvaskir. “Love you too, muffin.” Farkas replied, sitting heavily at his side. “What’s wrong with you?” “Rough night.” He answered briefly. “The missus giving you trouble?” Vilkas grinned. He never understood why his brother married that stiff woman. He recognized her as the Harbinger, but he was positive that creepy-eyed elf just passively laid in bed whilst his brother worked her hole. “No more than usual.” He dodged the question, reaching for a juicy looking piece of ram. “What’s that?” Vilkas bend over to have a closer look at him. “Is that…?” He couldn’t believe his eyes. That could only be a rash from a… “It’s nothing!” Farkas motioned away, but his twin already identified the bruises he had on his neck, just above the collar of his armor. “How’d you get that?” “I was wearing my armor longer than I should.” He lied, avoiding looking him in the eye. He never liked to lie to Vilkas. “Liar.” His dom intuition made him immediately realize how did his twin spend last night. So, it seemed his sister-in-law wasn’t as pious as he thought. He shrugged. “Drop it.” The less malicious brother grunted, focusing on his food. “Are you kidding me? Never!” Vilkas wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “Give me the details.”He was in the mood to pick on his sibling. “Screw off.” “Come on!” “Leave me alone!” “Hey Ice-Brain!” Aela called as she passed them by with a jug of mead and two mugs. “Ask him how did his night go.” In a second, Vilkas’ seemed to shrink under the Huntresse’s gaze. “So… How was it?” This time Farkas was the one to tightly hold his brother in place. “Shut. Up.” “Come on, muffin! What did she do? Call you names? Slap your arse?” “She changed into a werewolf and rode me all night long! I have cuts from her claws all over! My balls are all grazed, wanna see??” Vilkas snapped. He was humiliated as never before. Ria rejected him, her damned Master! Then, Aela let him come back to her only to dictate the rules herself! And when she got the feeling he didn’t pay her the right amount of ‘respect’ and ‘attention’ she’d take on her bestial form and fuck him, well, like an animal. Where did he go wrong?! “Whoa…” Suddenly, Farkas didn’t find picking on him funny anymore. The twins ate and drank in silence. “Are we whipped?” The married one suddenly asked. “I don’t know, Farkas. I seriously don’t know.” --- “And they think they still dictate the rules around here!” Aela laughed as her mug clashed against Caye’s. “How adorable!” The little elf laughed sincerely. She was once again groomed and proper, wearing her modest mage robes. “We should go for a hunt soon.” “Dirt, bugs, gutting the game ourselves?” The Dunmer’s brows rose. “Do you have a better idea?” “I noticed your back is quite tense. I just got a bottle of luxurious massage oil, straight from Mournhold. Maybe I could show you a bit of my sisterly affection?” The Harbinger offered. Aela laughed, giving Caye a friendly nudge in the arm. “It is good to have you around, little one!”

Chapter 2 - Blowing off Steam

Aela resented smooth men. She was a predator, she needed a mate (or mates) that could keep up with her pace. Sadly, most men she tried out failed her expectations. And disappointing the Huntress never turned out good for anyone. Because of her high standards, she mostly chose to sleep with warriors, yet many of them were too self-centered or incompetent to be of any use. She needed someone who had the strength and stamina to satisfy her and at the same time share a bond of understanding with. Her Shield-Brothers as fighters and werewolves were the only logical candidates.   The twins were of solid frame, tall and brawny like most Nords. Their identical features were something that made them strangely appealing. Mayhap they weren’t ideals of male beauty; still they weren’t unpleasant to look at. And though Aela would never admit it, she found their dark hair and icy-gray eyes very attractive.   “The fun has been doubled!” She thought to herself, as her Brothers were busy stripping from their armor. When the two of them stood before her in all their bare glory, she couldn’t help but feel the first drops of wetness condense inside her. Good, she needs to overflow with juices if she wants to pleasure the Twins until they fall from exhaustion.   “Get over here,” she said, spreading her arms and legs. “Show me how badly you missed me!”   “That’s, that’s… wow.” Farkas managed to utter when he noticed the fluffy red bush that covered her pussy was gone, the Huntress’ nethers were smooth and revealing just like an elf’s.   “That’s quite the sight” Vilkas agreed, “but you’re going to have to come to us. After last time, I’m not risking my bed getting broken down again.”   Aela sighed, but slid off the bed and approached them on all fours. The brothers stepped forward, standing at both her sides, waiting for the Huntress to make the first move. She reached out to grab their massive cocks. Gripping them firmly, she lazily jerked them from base to tip into full erection. She loved to feel the warmth of their rich blood pulsing underneath the velvet foreskin, the thick dark veins sliding under her palms. She wondered, who should be first to feel her mouth. This could prove tricky, the secret to a good threesome was not to make anyone feel left out.   “You’re not sleepy now, are ya?” Farkas asked jokingly, noticing her absent stare. He brushed a wayward strand of hair from her face and tugged it behind her ear. He wasn’t as skilled in bed as his brother, but he unknowingly did these small things that made a woman feel… nice.   “Not until I get my portion man-milk to help me sleep better.” She said, pressing her lips against his glans. A second later she took the entire shaft in. Her mouth was hot and deep like Oblivion itself, Farkas couldn’t help but gasp.   Before Vilkas could complain, Aela pulled him closer by his throbbing cock and stroked faster, almost painfully hard… just like he loved it. Her hand and mouth worked on the Twins with growing zeal. She’d almost forgot she was to enjoy herself as well. A bit of clear mucus leaked out of her pussy, marking the soft hide of a snow-bear they were all standing on. When Vilkas learned that Aela liked to have sex on furs, he immediately travelled to Winterhold and slain the biggest snow bear he could find. He’d never admit he did it for her, not even to himself. Still, that bear hide was witness to many things that could make even Belethor, the town’s resident lecher, feel embarrassed. Finally, she pulled her lips away from Farkas’ cock and turned to Vilkas, glimmering strings of saliva were still connecting her lips to the member she was busy sucking.   “Sit on the bed” she ordered, releasing his penis out of her painfully tight grip. “It’s your turn.”   Vilkas was more than happy to oblige. He respected and honored Aela as his Shield-Sister, but whenever they were together for more than five minutes, a power struggle was sure to erupt. This trend was even more noticeable in bed. He would never be openly brutal to her, but he couldn’t pass up an opportunity to push her to the limits. And Aela never gave him the satisfaction of breaking down or pleading him to stop. In fact, a part of her liked it rough. She kneeled before him, her ass up in the air, her pussy wet and eager to be tasted, spread and stretched.   “Get to it!” Vilkas commanded, wrapping her hair around his hand. He pushed her head to meet his cock until he felt he couldn’t push an inch further. Aela grunted, her voice muffled by his thick meat. If he hoped to see her eyes get watery and cheeks red, he was way over his head. Her mouth was well trained by Kodlak himself. White Mane was the eldest, most experienced and his cock the most impressive among the Companions. Sadly, because of his age and falling health, he was reluctant to have her visit as often as she’d like to. Still, when the Harbinger was in a good mood and his condition would allow it, the Huntress would spent the whole night with him, doing it just like the old warrior liked it – nice and slow. And when it was time for him to climax, he would shower her generously with his thick, white cum. Thus, Vilkas proposed no challenge. Aela took his entire shaft in, squeezing the base and his balls. She didn’t even flinch an eyelid when the tip slid deep into her throat, right between her tonsils. She drooled intensely, making his whole groin wet and slippery.   “I almost forgot how pleasant that mouth of yours is when I give it a proper gag!” He teased. “Watch the teeth!” He added quickly, noticing the gleam in her eye. Provoking her when she had her teeth around his penis wasn’t a good idea after all. Vilkas lessened the grip on her hair and laid back, enjoying his blowjob.   Finally, Farkas decided to act instead of gawking at Aela’s hairless snatch. He kneeled before her ass, his large gruff hands grabbed her cheeks and massaged them intensely, but not hard enough to leave bruises. Aela’s ass swayed to both sides. “Spank me, stupid!” It signaled. Farkas gave it a few quick slaps, pleased to hear her muffled moans. He was certain that if he’d try doing this under different circumstances, he’d be missing a few teeth the very next second. He spread her buttocks revealing the tender, bare pussy. Aela’s lips had an intense red tint that gave away how turned on she was. And if that wasn’t obvious enough, the wetness that coated her vaginal opening and soaked her labials ensured it was time to dig in. He pulled himself closed, savoring her carnal scent. Sticking his tongue out, he sunk it deep inside his Sister and writhed it fast and hard. Aela felt his stubble brushing against her inner thighs and groin, the sensation was pleasantly itchy. She knew it was a good idea to have the priestesses of Dibella back in Markarth depilate and pamper her before going back home. The welcome she was receiving was worth all the gold she paid. Now, if she could convince her comrades to undergo the same ritual instead of just trimming their hairs…   Her slippery breasts massaged Vilkas’ scrotum, while he observed with an amused grin. She was thankful that his dick was so deep in her mouth, preventing her from moaning like a weak-willed wench. The agile tongue that was squirming inside her was driving her mad. Maybe Farkas wasn’t the smartest one, but by the Gods, he knew how to eat. Suddenly, his tongue found that tender, vital spot inside her, the tip massaged it until the Huntress couldn’t help but cry. She pulled Vilkas’ member out of her mouth and coughed out more saliva which coated the penis with an even thicker coat. She felt heat spreading across her cheeks and in her womb.   “Too deep for you, eh?” Vilkas asked, pleased and oblivious of the true reason behind the blush on her face. He reached and pinched her nipples hard enough to make her bite her lip.   “I’m at my limits!” She answered, looking him deep in the eye. Yet, it was Farkas who she had in mind, as her pussy squeezed his tongue rhythmically. Farkas gave away no sign he noticed, yet his hands gripped her ass firmer. He pulled his tongue out of her vagina and encircled her asshole, generously moistening it.   “Are you going to play with us like whelps for the rest of the night? Or maybe you can’t handle true Nords anymore, sister?” Vilkas teased, rubbing her nipples harder and harder. Aela could not stand such a slur. She was a pure Nord woman! Her mind and body could withstand anything!   “You can talk all you want, but I don’t see you doing anything!” She refuted, polishing his cock. Then, she gave it a swat right in the glans. As Vilkas gasped surprised, she turned to Farkas and pushed him off her. The warrior landed on his back with a curse as she pounced him.   “Ugh, damn you!” Vilkas growled, bending forward and cuddling his hurt genitals. If Aela wasn’t busy with Farkas, she could see the fierce look on his face.   “If you wanted me to lie down so you could mount me, all you need to do is ask!” Farkas complained, rubbing his hindhead.   “Oh, quit your whimpering, both of you!” The Huntress scolded. She grabbed Farkas by his cock and directed it at her pussy. As he was in no position to argue, he held her by her hips and supported her as she slowly descended on his cock. The wetness and heat coming from within her made him forget about the rest of the world. Aela bent forward, her firm round tits were directly above his face. Her ass faced Vilkas, it taunted, tempted. “Come and get me!” It called.   “Shor’s beard, I’m going to pillage you tonight!” Vilkas promised, getting off the bed, and kneeling behind her. He gave her a hard spanking, leaving red handprints on her light skin. Aela pretended not to bother, whilst Farkas was busy caressing her breasts. Yet, his cock thrusting mercilessly into her ass was something she couldn’t ignore. She moaned, whilst Vilkas grabbed her by the elbows and pulled towards himself, forcing to arch her back like a bitch in heat.   “Ah… damn you two! I’m completely stuffed!” She yelped as the Twins dicks were shoved to their limits into her pussy and asshole.   “That’s the point, Sister!” Vilkas whispered into her ear. With another thrust, he bit into her neck like the malicious beast that he was.   “We know you love it, just enjoy yourself.” Farkas assured, marking her breasts with his teeth.   Aela muttered a barely audible curse. But there was no point in playing hard to get. She bend her head backward and closed her eyes, tensing her muscles as tightly as she could. When the Twins noticed her effort, they pushed their members harder, faster and deeper. As the power struggle went on, the three of them withdrew to their basic, wolfish instincts. Vilkas released his Sister from his grip and let her rest on his brother’s chest, whilst he mercilessly pounded her ass, disappointed not to hear even the slightest cry.   “You know…” Farkas said, wrapping his arms tightly around her. “Vilkas and I were having this crazy idea…”   “What idea?” Aela asked suddenly alarmed. She raised her head, up to now resting on his collarbone, and gave him an alerted look. She didn’t like that seemingly innocent, yet gleeful smile of his.   “It’s best he tells you. I’m not a good talker” he dodged the question, rubbing his nose against hers. His smile got even wider, revealing his impressive canines.   “A little birdie told us you how much you lust after Skjor when he’s in his bestial form.” Vilkas revealed, bending over her, his breath warming her shoulder. “So, we thought that maybe you’d like us to do the same thing for you.” He suggested, sinking his nails deeper into her behind.   “What?! No!” Before she could beat the idea out of their heads, she felt it. That subtle movement underneath their skin. They were going to transform into werewolves whilst they were still mating with her!   The Twins growled, as their bodies grew in size and muscularity. Thick black fur covered them, save for leathery skin that covered their chests and palms. Their limbs stretched, hands and feet developed into semi-humanoid paws equipped with long claws. Their faces turned into wolfish muzzles, eyes became blood-shot, ears grew long and pointy. Their cocks became longer, thicker and increased in vasculature. The Huntress felt the pointed, animalistic tips of their wolfish members jab her prostate and cervix, their knots sinking inside her. The walls of her vagina and rectum stretched painfully. And she loved it.   “Y… you sons of a bitch!” She yelled, grabbing the two by their muzzles. “I swear, after this is over, I’m going to skin you alive! Now make me feel I’m being ravaged by wild beasts, damn it! Make me cum!”   Her Shield-Brothers snarled, crushing her tighter between their colossal bodies. Aela felt teeth and claws sinking into her flesh. She had Skjor mate with her as a werewolf many times. But these two idiots, in their bestial forms, were like nothing she had ever felt before. She never found satisfaction in fucking them separately; Vilkas was too violent and Farkas too kind. But together, they were unstoppable and gave her one of the most intense and unforgettable orgasms of her life. Forgetting that she might be heard, she sunk into cries and curses, whilst the Twins impaled her on their dicks, their knots lodged inside her holes to remain there until they were done. They were going to climax soon, she felt it in their growls and pace. She then realized that as beasts they are going to ejaculate under much higher pressure and in greater quantity than they would in their normal forms. She would be flooded by a tide of their wolfish cum. Hircine as her witness, she wanted it! She wanted their semen filling her uterus and gut.   “Fill me up!” She pleaded. “And don’t you dare hold anything back! I want you to drown me in your cum!” Her voice fell into a cry as the two warriors howled unison. Streams of hot, thick semen shot into Aela with force she never experienced before. She felt her mind slipping away, as she came herself. She strung up like a bowstring as her abdomen convulsed, sucking their seed deep into her body. When the painfully ecstatic moment passed, she fainted in her Brothers’ arms.   For a moment, the Twins still rested their cocks inside her, relishing in the moments that slowly faded away. Aela lied senseless between them, her hair in a mess and war paint almost completely rubbed off. It was time to go back to their normal selves. The brothers slid out of her still quivering body, transforming back into humans.   “Do you think we went overboard with her this time?” Farkas asked concerned. Aela was lying unconscious on his chest. Yet, her berating was peaceful and she was smiling tiredly.   “What are you, her mom?” Vilkas scoffed. “She’s not bleeding… that bad, and we didn’t break her pelvis. She’ll be fine in the morning.” He added, examining the teeth and claw marks on the Huntress. With her werewolf fortitude, they should heal in a matter of days.   “Vilkas…?” His brother asked from underneath the Huntress.   “Hm?”   “Mind getting off me? You two are heavy. And everything’s leaking on me.”   “Eww!” Vilkas bounced off them. More streams of cum and juices spurted from Aela onto his brother and formed a remarkably large, sticky puddle on the bear hide beneath. It was high time he got rid of that thing and slain a saber cat for a change.   “That’s just great…” Farkas concluded resignedly. “So… meet you tomorrow at the front gate?” He asked cautiously.   “Sure. If my blade won’t be enough to deal with the vampires, we can always try using your ugly face to scare them off.” Vilkas said laughing. Yet, his laughter was by no means spiteful.   “Yeah, love you too. Now help me clean her up.”

Chapter 1 - Quality Time

Erik had always dreamed of adventure. The wide road ahead of him, his foe’s blood on his blade and sultry maidens bringing him pints of ale after a long day of raiding forgotten ruins. He wanted to see the world, taste danger and explore the many curves and nooks the female body had to offer. Surely, there were helpless women out there just waiting to be saved by a dashing young adventurer, and in return give him a bit of their sweet gratitude…   Erik was an earnest, but naive lad. And a virgin.   The sleepy hamlet of Rorikstead offered little in the ways of amusement. Aside from long walks and listening to the bard’s songs at his father’s inn, Erik had few means of spending what little free time he had. Thus, he mostly kept to himself. And masturbated like crazy whenever he had the opportunity.   The shed was filled with the smell of hay, a few straws got into his red hair. His cock was firmly in his grasp, palms greasy from troll fat salve mixed with a pinch of fire salts. The mixture made the whole shaft feel pleasantly itchy. He was breathing faster with every jerk. His other hand was gently rubbing his scrotum. He wasn’t in a hurry, father was busy sharing local rumors with some wayward traveler. Erik had plenty of time to spare.   Underneath his eyelids was a vision. She was sitting on a stool, a bucket with a wash cloth placed next to her slender calf. Her rich skin was glimmering in the candlelight, soapy water dripping lazily from her jet-black hair onto soft breasts and belly, sinking into the silky black underbrush beneath. This wasn’t a fantasy, but a tender memory that always made him cum like a breeding steed. As a little boy, no more than three years old, he walked in on one of the guests at his father’s inn taking a bath. The woman was a Redguard slowly entering middle-age. When she noticed him peeping, she burst into laughter and beckoned to come closer. She lovingly stroked his flushed cheek and then sat him on her lap. To this day, Erik remembered the smell of the woman’s hair and her hard, dark nipple tickling his cheek. The Redguard was smiling and rocking him in her wet, warm embrace… He was too young to feel anything else than safety and blissful glee. Had he been there now, as a strapping young man…   There it was, that sudden mist before his eyes! His hand clenched tighter around his sack, whilst the other focused on the tip of his penis. Thick veins emerged on his neck and shaft. With a grunt that fell into a cry he came all over his abdomen and thighs. His body tensed, then relaxed as sticky streams marked his body. Semiconsciously, he muttered ‘Mara, save me!’ whilst his cloudy cum was sinking into his rough red pubic hair.   For a moment he kept on mechanically stroking his cock, eyes set somewhere into the distance. Finally, he reached for a piece of cloth, wiped the sweat from his brow and neck, then tenderly cleansed himself of the troll fat salve and cum. He never felt shame because of what he was doing in the privacy of the shed. Or his room. Or his father’s wine cellar. Or behind the thick bushes near the mill. He felt good and relaxed afterwards. Still, he longed to share his body with someone.   “Erik!” It was Mralki, his father calling him. “Where are you boy? The sheets for the guests won’t change themselves!”   “Coming, pa!” He called back, wiping his hands, oblivious of the pun he just made. He fastened his belt and tossed the cloth behind as he was exiting the shed.

Chapter 1 - Paying a Debt

"Goddess? I'm here." Breyner Brickell muttered shyly as he stood outside the forges of the Goddess Lilliana. "Well, come in, come in. I was almost fully awake." Lilliana answered from the other side of the forge. After the attempt to knock, Lilliana's voice urged the boy to enter. "Breyner Brickell slowly opened the door to his forge, his eyes widening at the sight of his current state. "Um...Ah...Good morning, Goddess..." Breyner greeted Lilliana politely. "His eyes were a soft brown and his distinctive white hair was disheveled as always, it was as if he had just gotten out of bed. Lilliana was all the same, her dark blue hair had not yet been properly cared for, not that she had ever concentrated on that outside of important meetings with the other deities, and she was in a rather revealing general state of nudity. "She wore only a long-sleeved white shirt over her upper body, stained by last night's craft project, her thigh-high leather boots, and her lacy panties, which she had no intention of hiding. "This left her long, slender legs practically exposed to the fresh morning air and Breyner's wandering eyes. Not that decorum was always in question whenever the two of them met like this in the early morning. "Outside this small forge, she was a Goddess with her own family, and he was a fledgling adventurer, representing his own Goddess. "They were distant existences, interacting only with each other, but briefly; and yet here, in this little world, they continued on their secret path. Lilliana's sharp features split into a small, affectionate smile as Breyner stepped forward, loosening his normal everyday clothing and placing him in a nearby chair. "She sat up on one of his desks and watched him undress as she placed her chin on her bent knees, her luscious thighs candidly exposing the thin fabric that covered his crotch. "When Breyner finished undressing, she smiled as he placed his hands on each boot and slowly parted her thighs, before moving a little closer, melding his heat with hers. "Her silent exchange of eyes left no room for interpretation as his gaze went straight to her panties. ~oOo~ This strange arrangement took place when Breyner Brickell broke into his office one day for an impromptu lecture. "Breyner had apparently discovered that his Goddess was working too hard just to pay off the debt for the dagger she had ordered from Lilliana. "The boy was understandably worried about Mimosa, and practically begged, on his knees, and it wasn't a familiar sight, for a chance to find a way to reduce the burden on Mimosa's debt, no matter how minimal. She pointed out that he should just help Mimosa with the work, but then he cried that he didn't want her to know he knew that. "And thinking about it, Lilliana saw that the other Goddess would have been very upset if she had known that her own Family had discovered the truth about the debt. "Seeing the boy acting so desperate, she tried to teach him something about patience, teasing him with a joke. "She dragged him to her forge, where she loosened her clothes, and called him close. "She expected him to turn all red or run away. What she really hadn't expected was that he would actually come and start touching her everywhere, with such skill and technique that it took a long moment before she realized he was actually doing it. "But then she was "intrigued" and let him do his job. Two hours later, she looked stupidly with a goofy grin around her discarded garments, at Breyner Brickell, who wasn't quite a boy anymore, not at all; and then in his own discharge running down his thighs and staining his boots, mixed with his potent divine bodily fluids. Damn the Brickells, damn Breyner's grandmother, who must surely have been responsible for his inexplicable knowledge of carnal things. Lilliana really enjoyed those two hours. "And she wanted more, so much more. ~oOo~ Breyner started kissing all over her neck, then caressed her body over the fabric of her shirt. "Lilliana sighed as he nuzzled between her breasts and breathed in deeply of her scent, lightly tickling her neck. "He slowly circled his fingers all over the outside of her breasts, before moving down to slide his palms over her stomach. "Then he stripped her shirt over her shoulders and lifted his head to place a chaste kiss on her skin, before pulling the loose shirt down until it became a piece of cloth around her belly button. "Her stunning breasts hung there exposed to him, the dark areolas hardening in the morning chill. Breyner cupped each of his breasts and brought their kisses down, his mouth enveloping one nipple, then the other. "Lilliana made a light, appreciative sound in the back of her throat as she kneaded her breasts as she placed her saliva over her nipples, which quickly became erect and hard. "Then he slowly descended further, his mouth traveling the length of her navel before reaching for her panties. "Nibbling on the strap, he yanked her panties off, before pulling them up to her ankles as she kicked the fabric away. "Now Breyner saw her sweet cunt. "A small strand of dark blue hair was above her pinkish and slightly damp lips. "He planted his hot kisses all the way around that slit but didn't go beyond that, causing her to stroke her hair impatiently. "Then he pushed her face into her sex and stuck his tongue in her slit. "The tip made the smallest movements on her inner lips, traveling down, then up, past her clitoris, to her humble blue bush; then lower again and repeat. "Her thighs pressed against the side of her head, her hips bucking, her booted legs lifted over her shoulder as her entire body writhed. "Hahhhh…you're in good shape today…" Lilliana muttered, her voice purring in her throat as she bit her lip. "Mm…" Breyner muttered softly, nodding. This was his little morning ritual, and he was so good at it. "Most of the time she was very busy, and they never got to have real sex afterward, but she never missed that little pact of theirs whenever she booked. "And Breyner never failed to appear; he never failed to please her, until she was completely addicted. "It became her little routine to expel the tensions of the day before and prepare her for what was sure to come again with the same intensity again. Her wet, drenched sex was slick with her own juices and her saliva. "Now Breyner swirled his tongue around the hood of her clit, making little sucking motions across the tiny organ. "Proud Lilliana screamed and moaned, her hands practically gripping him by the roots of her hair as he continually attended to her. "He sucked, hung his tongue with even greater speed; each vigorously repeated movement sent electric shivers down her spine as stars bloomed in her vision, bringing her closer and closer to her climax. "Uggghhh! Aaaah!" And with that wordless offer, Lilliana lifted her head back and cried out as waves of pleasure washed over her. "By this time, Breyner had thrust two of his fingers into her pussy, as if to ride and monitor the pure, pleasurable orgasm that had rocked her world, causing her limbs to loosen, her mind to lose all focus as her folds rippled and tightened. your fingers. "Finally, her orgasm ceased, and she was gasping for breath, her eye remaining unfocused and unfocused, as Breyner diligently licked every last drop of her juices, making little jolts of pleasure shoot through her whenever he rubbed her exhausted clit. "Haaah... That was... good..." Lilliana muttered happily. "I'm glad I was able to satisfy you, Goddess." Breyner muttered happily. Lilliana stood there for a short while, her hands lazily running through Breyner's white hair as she basked in the glow of her peak. "His fleshy thighs loosened their grip on her head. "Then she gently pushed him back and asked him to get up. "Don't get too cocky." Lilliana told Breyner, in a slightly breathless voice. "She caught sight of his young, springy flesh, now painfully erect. "She took hold of the glans and guided it to its watery slit. "D-dear goddess, do you want to do this today?" Breyner asked quickly. "I want this now." Lilliana growled huskily as she lifted her thighs, gripping the backs of her knees. "She put her boot heels on her shoulder and pulled him down on her. "I want to feel your hardness thick inside me, Breyner. Now." So readily persuaded, Breyner had no other objections, and he sank his cock easily into her. "Both shuddered and wept at the sudden contact as their bodies came together; and Breyner once again felt the most exquisite fusion of pain and wet, tense pleasure as her inner folds choked on his throbbing cock. "Being young and eager, it didn't take long for him to move in and out of Lilliana's pussy with increasing speed as he lay against her body and thrust his hips into hers like the desperate heat of a small rabbit. "He spread the valley between her breasts, his hands pinching her nipples, and he held her hands like an anchor as her movements quickened. “Oohhh, haaah, ohhh, gods…” Breyner muttered passionately. "Yes! Hm! Oooh! Aaah! There, Breyner! Teeeeeeeeee!" Lilliana exclaimed aloud and the formerly proud and rude goddess gave way to a woman squirming wildly in the greatest pleasure, while a young mortal penetrated her love tunnel again and again; each thrust produced wet crunching sounds that echoed in the room as the table they sat on shook and creaked. "Breyner was insatiable, pouring everything out while Lilliana coaxed and proudly milked her erection; his grunts and guttural moans were the equivalent of her last vestige of pride, of not giving in to openly screaming like a slut. They came explosively, and Breyner fired each of his potent seeds into the Goddess, and he moaned happily as she closed around him, accepting and engulfing her heat with every pulse of his cock. "Lilliana squeezed the boy's sweaty back as saliva dripped from the corner of her mouth. "She licked her lips, drawing even more pleasure from the sensation of being seeded by such a virile young man. ~oOo~ She remembered that first time once more. "She looked at their work and wondered what kind of joke was being played at her expense. "She sure wasn't like some of the other Goddesses, who didn't mind adventures like this. "Of course, she only granted Mimosa's request to make that weapon for him, but that was because of Mimosa's seriousness, and not particularly because of the boy himself. "She put a hand to her face, feeling a slight headache as she thought of the other goddess. "Surely that girl would definitely not accept it, if she knew that she "played" with her beloved and amazing Breyner Brickell. "Swearing, insults like a robber of men and maybe worse things would come out... Breyner then woke up, looking clearly around them. "Hey, mhm… wait a second...." Breyner said suddenly, standing up, and not paying attention to the fact that he was still completely naked in front of a goddess. "Does this mean I finally set up with a girl?" Lilliana then looked into the young man's anxious brown eyes and sighed. "She patted his head lightly. "This and that are completely different things." Lilliana said. "What we did, Breyner… it was just casual. I don't think it goes without saying that you're not going to babble about it to your goddess, do you hear?" "Y-yes... Anything to help the Goddess with the debt." Breyner muttered in agreement. "And that reminds me." Lilliana said, placing a finger on Breyner's chin. "A certain cool, pleasurable flutter touched her chest as she leaned in and whispered, "This is far from making up for everything. It's going to take more. Much more of this." Lilliana muttered and felt so devilishly delighted to have that kind of secret. "It made her pussy twitch, and it has so far. Lilliana said then, as she did this very moment, panting under him as they huddled together at the table. "So are you free tomorrow?" Lilliana muttered happily and Breyner Brickell's hardened masculinity was more than enough response. ~xXx~ The most recent Great Assembly of Gods and Goddesses was of particular interest to Lilliana, as it was there that she received news that Breyner had achieved the Gold Rank. "The Great Assembly of Gods and Goddesses then determined a name for the young adventurer "Passo Veloz", and then she lost sight of the boy. Days passed, with his little "arrangement" made to go to hell when the boy didn't show up, which was understandable considering Breyner's previous involvement with a dangerous enemy. "Lilliana didn't regret the boy not showing up for their meeting, because the boy was human after all. "It was better to distance himself, give the boy time to recover, especially after overcoming an ordeal that few could claim to have achieved. This left Lilliana with the unfortunate realization that she had trusted the boy a little too much during their morning encounters. "Breyner was always able to release her tensions by having sex, and then she would be able to spend at least the next twenty-four hours in a heightened and pleasantly happy frame of mind. "Now, as the days went by without her meeting Breyner, Lilliana found that she simply couldn't function normally anymore. "She would feel unfulfilled, incomplete, like she'd made a shotgun, and everyone else had found out about it in the same instant. "Ironically, this made her almost spoil her daily weapon making orders. "Her mood was eternally foul and bitchy, and all because she was missing out on some hot young thoughts in mortal love. "It was an itch she couldn't quite scratch, no matter how hard she tried. "No matter how much she teased her pussy lips and cupped her breasts, or used the "toys' ' she stole from a certain perverted goddess, she was only able to bring herself to an orgasm that was actually very unsatisfying. "This frustrated her greatly and invariably led to her even more sullen mood. "She was too proud, as a goddess, to admit that Breyner had unleashed a fire in her that only continued to burn when he left her side, and was lit every time he pleasured her, which burned when they had sex. "And with him gone for almost three weeks now, well... Today was especially brutal. "She had to give Welf and the others the rest of the day off while she wrapped up the day early in her workshop. "The itch in his groin had become unbearably too much to bear. "Her fingers grew slick and slimy with the effort of rubbing her pussy with every fiber of her divine being. "Again and again, she came, hot and confused, but all she felt was a cold, lingering dissatisfaction before continuing on to the next one. "She passed a dozen of them before finally realizing someone was knocking on her door. "I'm busy! Come back later!" Lilliana yelled at any idiot out there. "She was still riding the wave of a recent orgasm and had no patience for anyone trying to upset her. "Oh, okay. I'm sorry to bother you, Goddess." A voice very similar to Breyner Brickell's voice came from the other side. Lilliana gaped, before running for the door when she heard her footsteps walk away. The young man looked quite surprised when he turned to see her standing in the doorway. "He lowered his head in apology when he saw her naked state. "Oh sorry!" Lilliana smiled, relief flooding her as she confirmed it was really him. "She was happy to see that he looked fine, relatively normal and unharmed. "Come in, come in soon, Breyner." Lilliana said quickly, turning back to the workshop. "She stopped when she saw the clear trail of sperm droplets on the floor, marking the shortest path she'd made to the door when she heard his voice. "She squirmed, feeling the hot wetness in her panties. "Goddess?" Breyner asked quickly. "Close the door." Lilliana spoke quickly. "HM alright." Breyner objectively complied. "I just came to check on you, I'm sorry I couldn't see you, goddess. But with the title I got, plus other stuff going on, well, I kind of lost track of time. Plus, I felt great. guilty, because like the dagger really helps me and I…" Breyner was interrupted and quickly thrown out of the loop when Lilliana suddenly launched herself at him, pressing her warm body against his as she clamped her delicious thighs around him. of his outstretched arm. "Breyner…please…" Lilliana whispered softly, tears in her eyes, as she clutched at the front of his clothes desperately. "She moved her thighs, allowing his hand to feel her insides, which grew wet and hot with pure desire. "Ah! Just as I thought! Well don't worry goddess, I'll help you." Breyner muttered happily, and with that proclamation, his fingers crept through the fabric of Lilliana's panties, pulling her aside, before traversing her across familiar territory. "Hahahahah!" Lilliana almost howled at the joyous sensation of someone touching her, and her pussy lips curved over Breyner's experienced fingers as if they had a life of their own. "She covered her mouth, panting into her palms as her knees shook with the surge of pleasure that seemed to emanate from Breyner's touch. "The boy's hand caressed the back of her neck thoughtfully, sending shivers cascading down her spine. "Breyner then found her erect clit, and after concentrating on it, he quickly hit the jackpot and sent her senses soaring. Lilliana banged her head on her shoulder, her head spinning as she was finally rewarded with the one thing she'd been deprived of for weeks. "She shivered and shuddered, waves of intense, orgasmic pleasure coursing through her as her pussy convulsed under an explosive orgasm that spread her juices freely over Breyner's hand. "She screamed into his chest, and it felt like she'd lifted a difficult burden off his shoulders. "Her knees, unable to contain the pleasure, buckled, and she was only held upright by Breyner's strong hand, which held her by her quivering slit. "Haah...Gaahhh..." Lilliana, nearly choking, struggled for breath, her mind an opaque fog. "The whole world makes sense now. "Everything fell into place almost in place. "She was finally balanced, in control, and above all satisfied. "Her orgasm felt like the end of all orgasms, and all thanks to a child. "Uwaga... That's a lot." Breyner muttered randomly, rubbing the sticky substance that stuck to her fingers. "That got really intense there, goddess. Are you really okay?" Lilliana smiled weakly, wishing she could punch the boy for his lack of awareness. "But it didn't really look bad. "Breyner Brickell was endearing that way. "She touched his shoulder, then tugged at a strap of his armor. "She met his eyes. "I need more." Breyner's body came down, lying on the workshop floor. "His clothes and armor were strewn about carelessly, along with the rest of Lilliana's dignity. "The only thing she still wore were her thigh-high leather boots, which she didn't mind taking off. "For a moment she gave herself over to the boy's body, drinking deeply of his young, virile musk, pinching and licking his nipples, offering him many little caresses. "He was already semi-hard, and through his care he became as rigid as a hot poker. "Licking her lips in anticipation, Lilliana straddled him, wetting his entire length with her drenched nethers. Breyner smiled and commented, "You look very excited, goddess." "Shut up and give it to me, Fast Step." Lilliana said quickly, and with that she dipped her waist down, fully engulfing his rock-hard cock inside her walls. "Her entrance was facilitated by the amount of free lubrication provided by her subsequent arousal and orgasms, and he was able to sheath completely inside her to the base of her groin in one thrust. "Lilliana bit her lip, basking in the mesmerizing heat of him filling her after so long. "Breyner himself moaned as her folds writhed around him, nipping at everything around him like little mouths. "Lilliana wasted no time mounting the boy hard, her pussy devouring him greedily as she ground her hips against his: circling in place, moving back and forth, making his cock reach every point. nice in her cunt over and over again. Breyner, for his part, looked like he was about to melt into the velvety private parts of the goddess, which were as divine and creepy as he remembered. "He recognized her frantic movements with hers, thrusting his cock upward to contain her frantic grinding with his hungry cock. "Oh...! Aaaah... Yes! Stronger! Ready! Ready!" Lilliana moaned and closed her eyes, drinking deeply of the pleasurable sensations coursing through her body from their shared connection. "For every circular movement of her hips, he thrust hard, making her skin crawl every time; for every sideways movement of her sexy ass, he pumped harder with indulgent joy, causing stars to bloom behind her eyelids. "The goddess totally exalted in this bold and desperate congress with her lover, offering herself to her body needs. "She shook her head from side to side, scattering beads of moisture from her damp, messy hair. "His tanned, glowing skin rippled with every strong, fleshy touch; and she also began to glisten with sweat from their combined heat, which grew to an even more passionate level as her pleasure peaked. Lilliana felt it coming, like a supernova exploding in space. "She howled, throwing her head back, her body caught in the convulsion of an orgasm. "She didn't care that she literally smothered his length with the twist, like a grip on his cock; she surrendered to the thrill of release, even as it made her look like a woman maddened with lust. Breyner almost felt like her soul was being sucked into her cock as he pulsed and throbbed, ejecting thick, milky strands of his seed deep into the goddess's center. "Then he felt the goddess's body collapse on top of him, still shivering, writhing from the potent effects of her orgasm, which made Breyner grunt even louder as a fresh wave of cum came straight from her balls. They stood there, trapped in the aftermath of her fiery intercourse, their hearts beating as one, holding each other's hands, their cock still buried in the goddess's divine pussy. "After Breyner's manhood pulsed one last time, traces of his sperm oozed from his slit, a testament to the amount he'd fed the goddess. "Eventually, Lilliana woke up, wiping tears from her one visible eye, before remembering where she was. Lilliana clicked her tongue, and some of her normal behavior was restored. "Aw, man." Lilliana muttered and glanced at Breyner, who watched her silently through half-closed eyes. "So, um…how are you?" "I'm…doing well, goddess." Breyner said softly. "I see." Lilliana muttered. "Slowly and silently, she lowered her head and placed it against his chest. "She closed her eyes; it was strangely comforting to bask in someone else's warmth. "She wondered why she hadn't noticed this before, in her previous cases. "Maybe it was because it was night now, when all the others of hers had been during early morning: a simple hot, desperate fuck that had to be stopped due to the needs of the day. "There was no time to hug, or spoon, or anything else. "And now... "...Do you mind if I stay here for a while?" Lilliana asked curiously. "Not even a little." Breyner said with a shrug. Lilliana felt that she had recovered, a good few minutes later, enough and was looking forward to more. "But she wasn't too interested in doing that right away. "So she invited Breyner to sit in the nearby chair, still naked, and asked him to talk about the past few weeks. "As he did so, she snuggled between his strong, powerful thighs; and then she rested her head on his thigh, put her face close to his crotch and started playing with his cock with her mouth. "It felt so strange to sit here in front of Breyner, fully exposing oneself to each other while he talked about mundane things. "But for some reason, she felt it soothed her instead of making her feel extremely embarrassed. "Breyner was an honest, gentle type of man, the best male type most women could find. "So she felt like she could do anything in front of him, without fear of censure. "She immersed herself in his big, admiring brown eyes even as she took a few inches of his cock down her gullet. Lilliana's blowjob was slow and lazy as she didn't move her head much and forced his cock to point at her, but it didn't seem like Breyner minded. "As he talked about Mimosa, she made teasing circular adventures with her tongue around him while brushing stray hair out of her face. "As he recounted his recent adventure, she took the tip of it past her lips and began to run her tongue over it. "As he spoke of the chaos that had surrounded him since he reached the Gold Rank, she teased and ran her tongue across the underside of his cock. "In a way, it looked like she was lazily worshiping him; or more like she was worshiping his cock. "And strangely, Lilliana felt good about it. "It was as if Breyner was exactly the kind of person who deserved such a thing, and her mind didn't object. "Besides, this was both a favor to him and his self-indulgence; this wasn't worship, but like someone enjoying their new toy. "Yes, it seemed like a much better mental image. "And then I-haah! Goddess! That's so!" Breyner muttered softly. Lilliana's eyes narrowed in triumph as she pursed her mouth to repeat the same sucking motion with her tongue that would please him enough to interrupt. "She could already feel his cock throbbing. "With a loud, lecherous smack of her lips, she let his cock out. "Nuh-uh. Not yet." Lilliana said and closed her hand around his length and then rubbed him lazily, teasing him just enough to remain erect. "She got up and walked over to one of his tables. "She leaned forward against him, then presented her bare ass to him. "She looked over his shoulder and blinked at him with her only visible eye, trying to get him to come. A warm, hungry look came over Breyner, who rose and wasted no time positioning himself between the Goddess's legs. "The table began to shake as their love relationship was renewed. "This time it was slow and methodical. "Breyner frantically thrust her hips forward as he gripped her love fists and scolded her mercilessly; Lilliana, however, reveled in the feel of a strong, rigid, dependable cock digging into her from behind, this time absorbing the intense feelings as they came. "It was no secret that she began panting ardently less than five minutes after their intercourse, hissing through her teeth every time their skin came together; as Breyner's intense breeding efforts intensified, burying his cock deep in her like a perverted beast claiming a ruined adventuress. After that round of sex, another waiting period ensued. "This time, Lilliana completely engaged Breyner in conversation as the two played and explored each other's naked bodies; with the proviso that victory would be achieved if the other came to the climax first. "It was a shameless game that Breyner had proposed. "It ended in mutual defeat, or victory, as each brought the other to orgasm simultaneously. The sight of his sperm on the floor reminded Lilliana that night was already turning, and she needed to prepare for the next day. "Even Breyner looked hesitant, wondering if she intended to continue, even this late at night. "Breyner's innocent gaze melted what little control Lilliana had, and she crushed his body against hers as they began their third round. "Temptation gripped the normally responsible goddess, leaving her satisfied with her desires, while even reason deceived itself into arguing that it took so long for him to return, why not take him all night? And then, Lilliana totally immersed herself in her depravity and pulled the boy with her. The sacred workshop, already her meeting place, progressively began to smell of her lingering, turbulent sex. "They fucked in every way possible, until Lilliana's well-used pussy was sore, until only tasteless streams of cum came out of Breyner's cock. "And yet, with Lilliana's encouragement, they continued on, fully exploring each other's bodies, until scant traces of sunlight began to filter through the windows. "It's already morning?" Breyner asked curiously. "His head was resting on Lilliana's lap. "Her limp cock was like a limp fish against his groin, tired after exploring the goddess's many strange holes and valleys. Lilliana smiled softly, lazily stroking her forehead. "Yes. You will have to leave soon." Her brown skin had absorbed much of their combined musk, overpowered by sex, and was now smeared with dust and other marks that showed where they'd been pressed hard against something, over and over again. "Yeah…soon…" Breyner muttered quickly and blinked slowly, looking down. "Aw, man." Inexplicably, his cock was slowly hardening again. "The mention of "having to go" seemed like the trigger for both of them now, as throughout the night it was the signal for them to forget about themselves and go for that "last" fuck. Seeing this, Lilliana frowned and shook her head slightly. "No means no, Breyner. I'm serious. It's morning…” Lilliana mumbled quickly and sighed as Breyner began rubbing above her crotch, stimulating the skin and making her crotch tingle once more. "It's morning…" Lilliana muttered, pursing her lips. "Right." Breyner said with a mysterious glint in his eyes. "It's morning. And in the morning. Morning, morning, and morning." Lilliana blinked rapidly, the way Breyner was emphasizing the "morning" part was really weird, until comprehension hit her. "Mhm… you're right. And in the morning." Lilliana muttered the usual time of the daily routine, so long interrupted. "She licked her lips in anticipation, ready to roll for the "last" time, this morning, of course. ~xXx~ Intermittent squeaking sounds filled the room. "You could also hear, interspersed with the incessant screeching, the lowing sounds of some sort of animal, the damp, crushing sounds like fruit crunching underfoot, and a rich sort of slapping noise, like a butcher tenderizing meat. "All this emanated from the couple enjoying their lively congress over a worktable. "His constant back and forth movements contributed to the table's shrill protests. "The moans and the others came naturally from them. Glorious naked, her curves displayed for all to see, the Goddess Ferreira, known only as Lilliana lay on the table, her dark skin glistening with sweat. "Her only visible eye was glazed over with lust, even as her partner's movements made her voluptuous breasts rise and flap together like fruit in the wind, and sent ripples that reverberated across her delicious-looking skin. "One of her legs was draped over her partner's shoulder, The young adventurer Breyner Brickell, whose snow-pale skin contrasted sharply with the Goddess's darker skin tone. "Gripping the goddess's thigh to his chest, Breyner plunged into the opening between her thighs with frantic yet precise strength, their joining creating the aforementioned crushing sounds and the reek of female arousal and male premonite that emanated from their lusty joining. "The goddess's other leg was wrapped around the back of her waist; with each of Breyner's shoves, the leg helped drive him deeper into himself, while ensuring he couldn't easily escape the honeypot that held him tightly to himself. At the moment, his faces now contorted, as if they felt the most exquisite torture piercing their bodies. "The goddess bit her lip and struggled to make sure she didn't make too much noise, while Breyner turned to the goddess' tall boots, which she kept, and buried her screams in the leather surface. "Cumming! Fuh! Cumming!" Lilliana muttered passionately. "Haah...goddess...oohhhh..." Breyner exclamed happily. The dark-skinned beauty of a goddess, Lilliana, let her legs relax from their grip around Breyner's ass, letting her fall to the floor. "With the other leg still slung over the young man's shoulder, it made his opening wider than before. "Then, her inner walls tightened around the young man's penis, milking his morning sperm as it shot deep into her uterus and ensuring none of his sperm could escape prematurely. They were having these "morning sessions" for what felt like weeks from now. "Except for that brief period of interruption when Breyner recovered from the adventure involving an Elder Lich, Lilliana always got her quickie from her willing confidant, the young adventurer, without fail. "It became part of her daily routine as much as everything else in her life. "And the best part is, she never got old. "She could never have guessed from the young man's innocent-looking features, which looked so much like those of a fluffy brown-eyed Vhuphus; but he was a voracious lover. "Aggressive, relentless, virile, all the qualities Lilliana liked in a lover. "Plus, she never got tired of how he was able to please her body in so many ways that were surprising even to her. "He was able to awaken parts of herself that even she didn't know actually existed in her. "Her postcoital bliss ended as soon as Breyner spent what was left of her essence. "Truth be told, the boy was still tense, eager to go even after such a difficult session. "But their little encounter only managed to last so long, especially with the morning progressing like that. "As each was well aware of the other's hidden signals, it meant they were gone, like Breyner pulling his cock out slowly from inside her drenched pussy mess. Lilliana smiled to herself, shivering at the subtle, delicious sensation of having her breakfast planted deep in her womb. "No matter what sort of things happened today, she was at least assured that she was as relaxed as possible for her work. "When he left her fully, she quickly brought her thighs together, forming a seal of flesh that would ensure that no drop of her hot essence could escape. "For good measure, she pulled her panties up to cover them there. Then the two hurriedly dressed. "His clothes always ended up in piles around his workshop. "It was a testament to their shared and desperate lust at the beginning of each "session". "Oh? Oooh! Oooh, I completely forgot about the goddess! I have something for you!" Breyner said out loud suddenly. Lilliana silently watched him turn and hobble his half-pantsed leg toward her. "In her hand, Breyner held something small and shiny. "She recognized it immediately as some kind of ore. "But it was only when she reached out to touch him that she knew. "This was no ordinary ore. "Where did you get that?" Lilliana asked curiously in a low voice as she spoke, the beautiful piece of material seemed to glow and sing to her in a dozen charming little whispers. "She could count how many times she had seen such material in her life before, and it wouldn't even take the fingers of her entire hand. "I found it a few days ago." Breyner explained. "And I would have shown you yesterday, but..." Lilliana ruffled her hair. "Yesterday, she'd been in an exceptionally excited mood after she'd gone out to a party the night before, so she'd done nothing but ride Breyner's cock for three full hours that morning before starting their respective morning duties. "Not that it was her first morning session to start with, it was a little more than a hangover. "Anyway, my goddess told me it's a really rare type of ore, and she told me to come to you and ask about it for more details. It's kind of funny, right?" Breyner said with a shrug. "Yeah, that's hilarious." Lilliana muttered emotionlessly. "She swallowed hard, as if Breyner had just shot a hot, thick load down her throat. "How the hell could Breyner have found something like that? It was way beyond above-average luck, as this thing was only reserved for the upper-level adventurers who toiled in the deepest floors of the dungeons; and even then finding it really required tremendous luck. "Anyway, I thought about it, and I might as well give it to you. As a gift. To...you know...As a token of my...um...err, appreciation..." Breyner muttered stuttering and rubbed his white hair, his cheeks red. "...And...well, I thought you'd like this better than me and Mimosa as gifts." Lilliana's eyes widened, honestly touched by Breyner's gesture. "Lilliana felt heat touch her cheeks, which she smothered with a desperate grimace. "I...thank you, Breyner...That's certainly very kind of you. But then-" After a few more moments, she was able to confirm definitively. "The piece of metal that Breyner gave him was a piece of "Divine Adamantium", the toughest ore in all this land. "No mortal hand could mold it, nor use it for itself. "She had only worked with "Adamantio Divino" once before, and it was an honor to turn it into a suitable piece of equipment. "The metal had properties that not even she, one of the few Blacksmith Gods, knew about. "It would be an extreme pleasure to take bits of the ore, to test it within the fire of her imagination, in order to elevate her craft to even greater heights. "And now, receiving such a precious piece so easily, as if it were nothing to Breyner…didn't he really know that it would pay back Mimosa's debt to her many times over? Even a small sliver of the mineral would have been enough to cover the dagger's costs. "She wondered if Breyner Brickell really knew the value of what he had just given her; she supposed she should be grateful for small miracles that he hadn't been fooled by someone else before. "Then again, she didn't know if she should be happy or not that he was treating her like she was his real lover and giving her presents; she blushed again at the thought as a tight feeling took over her chest. As a benevolent goddess, it was her duty to inform Breyner of this. "She couldn't just leave him in the dark about it. "Besides, she cared about the boy, even though she hated to admit it out loud. 'Ah, but that would mean the end of all sex.' Said a small voice inside Lilliana's head. Lilliana bit her lip, squeezing her fingers over the lump of divine ore erratically. "Lilliana would definitely relinquish Mimosa's debt for that, as it would be totally bad to just take the material and keep silent about its true value, just to ensure Mimosa continued to owe her. "Not to mention certain eavesdropping Gods and Goddesses who would definitely notice the cloud of deception hovering over Lilliana's words, Mimosa was never the person to be trusted to keep certain secrets. "With the debt payment hanging over his fluffy head, Breyner would no longer be forced to meet her here for his morning "sessions." Her treacherous pussy, still slick with its dripping, drying seed, tightened, as if it knew her thoughts, as if it wanted her to play the role of manipulative goddess for the first time. "She really had no real obligation to Mimosa. "No one would ever discover the true value of the divine ore. "Mimosa would continue to work, and work for the dagger; all the while, Breyner secretly came to her room, to pay off his share of the debt through a few hours of daily debauchery with Lilliana. "She had to admit that she was tempted for a long, full moment, imagining the pleasure amplified once she began to work a little more with the unyielding divine ore: this combined with her lover's daily flirting and she would essentially be full until the edge daily without end. "She would be completely fulfilled. It was enough to make her smack her head, patting her head lightly for thinking such a silly thought. "She was Lilliana. "A God. "She didn't need to fall into such mundane temptations. It was a very good and rewarding series of months. "But all things came to an end, eventually another voice came into her head. "It was a nosy voice she didn't like, always preaching responsibility and all. "Which, in this case, was as irritating as a piece of ore that simply refused to be tempered. "Breyner…" Lilliana said, looking at the young man who had already put on most of her clothes. "The clueless boy met her gaze as he bowed his head. "There's something you need to know about this." "Hm? What is it, goddess?" Breyner asked curiously. Lilliana bit her lip, then shrugged to avoid her last hesitation. "You really have no idea what you just put in my hands, do you?" Breyner's brown eyes widened. "Is it valuable or something?" "Is this valuable?" Lilliana asked and quickly let out a laugh. "I just couldn't afford it if you wanted to sell it to me." Lilliana said with a shrug, quite technically she had ways of her, like a goddess, but it wouldn't be easy. "What that also means is that it can really pay for the dagger I forged for your goddess." Breyner's eyes widened, big as saucers. "How, this can pay for… are you serious?" Breyner muttered randomly and then took a deep breath. "Ooohhh... Wow! Wow! This is just amazing!" Lilliana was happy to see Breyner jump for joy. "With that, I can consider Mimosa's debt erased. That I can guarantee you." "Oh man, I bet she would really like that!" Breyner exclaimed happily aloud. "Thank you so much for telling me, goddess!" "I'll tell her about it today." Lilliana said quickly, picking up her own clothes from the floor. "And…there's something else too…" Lilliana kept talking, watching the young man literally shiver in her place, full of contained and vigorous energy. "I'll take care of making you a present, Breyner. A sword, perhaps, using some of the material you so graciously gave me." Breyner gasped in surprise. "But I don't know if I'll be able to pay. "Are you giving us more of the same debt?" Lilliana blinked rapidly, then glared at Breyner. "Boy, who do you think I am? Some kind of tactless and greedy merchant? It's going to be a gift, and the gifts won't be paid." "Oh. Alright then." Breyner said. "I'm sorry for this." Breyner hesitated for a few more moments, before saying, "Wait. Does that mean... goddess?" "Hm?" Lilliana raised an eyebrow curiously. Breyner cleared his throat, cheeks turning red. "…Does that mean our morning sessions are…err, over?" Lilliana blinked once, twice, three times. "Then she burst into laughter that echoed through the room. "Of all the things to ask... You really are cute, Breyner." "S-sorry." Breyner stuttered. "He was nothing like the masterful lover she knew; more like an innocent rabbit that someone could just eat. "And in a few days she did just that to the boy, with his consent, of course. "I just wasn't sure how you... actually... you know..." "That's exactly what I like about you, Breyner." Lilliana said, reaching over to cup her face in her hands. "She moved closer, as if she was going to kiss him. "Over all the months they'd made love, knowing and completely marking every surface of each other's bodies, they'd never stepped on that final frontier that would have marked their entry into love life, their lips. "Oh sure, she'd sucked his cock and other places, and her tongue had tasted just about every other part, but they'd never locked their lips like lovers always did. "And that was definitely not going to start now. "Lilliana smiled and headbutted the young man, making him scream. "...What the hell do you think, am I some kind of person who needs this kind of thing in life? Forget about it, kid. That was just an equivalent exchange, an eye for an eye, a transaction between the two of us." Lilliana waved her hands dismissively. "So yeah, with the debt paid off, I won't need you tomorrow." Lilliana snorted and looked back over her shoulder at the bewildered young man. "...Besides, don't you have all those other lovely young ladies to pay attention to? Including little Mimosa, of course. I'm sure you're glad you had more time in the morning now." "Ehhh? The goddess?" Breyner rubbed his head. "...I guess." "See? Well, go ahead. Don't let an old goddess keep you waiting." Lilliana said and quickly settled herself, still half naked, in her chair. "For a good, long moment, they stared at each other. "Something like sadness, or would that be regret? She sparkled in the young man's eyes before a bright smile broke across her face. "Well. I guess that's it then. Please be careful, goddess." Breyner said softly. "Uh Uh... Go ahead, kid. I've got a bunch of ''Divine Adamant'' to work on now. "It also has its gift. "Come back tomorrow, it will be ready." "Goodbye, goddess." Breyner said quietly, before finally leaving. Lilliana didn't realize she was looking at the spot in the doorway where Breyner's face had been for a long time, until a knock came from her family, wondering why she hadn't opened the store yet. She apologized for the normal work that day, citing an extraordinary work order that had just arrived. "And indeed, the work involved in shaping the divine mineral would take days, even weeks, before it could completely exhaust the resource. "Plus, she had promised the boy a blade made of the same material, so she had to work on that at least. ~xXx~ "Fuck you bitch!" The tweezers dropped to the floor, clattering in the stifling workshop. "She pushed the sword mold aside and slapped her forehead repeatedly. Why was it so hard to concentrate? She'd been working on Breyner's sword for nearly a full day now, and all she got was wasted materials, too many ruined molds and frames, a frayed temper, and sweaty skin. "It was fortunate that she didn't have to use some of the "Divine Adamantio" yet, that was for a later stage in the forge, but she could already feel the repeated flaws like whips on her skin. Breyner… Breyner… All her thoughts inevitably turned to the young man. "His gift of "Adamantio Divino" had been sudden, like lightning from a clear sky. "She didn't have time to think more about the consequences, or even consider all the other alternatives available to her. "Not until she'd already cut things off had she already pushed him away with a brief goodbye. Biting her lip in frustration, she turned to the side, making sure her profile was facing the door, in case anyone was stupid enough to open it now. "Then she plunged her hands into her pants, pulled her panties down her thighs, then dug around her pussy with a desperate moan. "Breyner~...Breyner~" The images came to her, blinking one after another. "Each of them was carnal in nature, from the many hot and torrid scenes she shared with Breyner right in this room. "They were the kind of thoughts and images that no God or Goddess should have, the decent ones anyway. "And she was Lilliana, the Goddess of Blacksmiths. "She shouldn't be thinking of the various spine-chilling ways Breyner's tongue traveled every inch of his vast territories, mapping them until just a single touch of his finger in one place could wake her, no matter what. how bad her night had been, which made her occasional massage sessions interesting if not perverted, or the only mouth that had ever known her other mouth more intimately than she ever could, whose inner juices Breyner drank greedily like a thirsty traveler. "She thought of Breyner, and how she had dominated the young man several times, rubbing scented oil and salts into both of their bodies, then stimulating herself by rubbing her body against his, the salt stimulation against her nipples and against her pussy causing endless orgasms; or when she spent the entire morning beating his flesh and forcing him to come over and over again, while she enjoyed Breyner's terror of contaminating certain objects that were supposed to be sold for that day. "Gahh! Fuck you! Breyner! Breyner...!" The resulting orgasm was short and weak. "This left her completely unsatisfied. "Grunting, she turned to the faucet to get the stink out of it. "In a way, she liked the young man a lot. "Oh sure, he was a master at what he did, especially during his long "sessions". "But other than that, he was a sincere and kind young man, determined to make the best of what he was given, and from then on he strove to do the best he was capable of. "Lilliana refused to openly call him love. "She was an animal attraction. "Misplaced maternal instincts. "Another thing she didn't know. "It wasn't love. "It was indisputable then that she needed Breyner. "It was a selfish thought, to be sure, but it was no longer one she could deny. "The carnal parts of their relationship, the comfort she'd felt from their brief unions, the stress-free days she'd enjoyed in the aftermath: she wanted this. "She wanted everything. "So this shouldn't end yet. Lilliana smiled. "A plan formed in her mind. "She turned and picked up the sword mold. ~xXx~ Hours later, the promised blade was completed. "She hoped Breyner would be pleased; she had given the sword even more effort, relatively speaking. "She sighed and put it away. "It was after sunset and Lilliana was looking forward to a relaxing bath and a good night's sleep. She went into her room to get some clothes, then took a second look when she saw the man currently occupying her thoughts just standing there, twiddling his thumbs. "H-hi. Good night goddess." Breyner said shyly, a wary, shy expression on his face. "Breyner!" Lilliana hissed through her teeth, her eyes wide. "Her thoughts were confused, but she could definitely tell this was the real Breyner, in the flesh. "She glanced outside into the hallway, afraid that someone would see them at that moment, before finally entering, slamming the door behind her. "What the hell are you doing here?" "No, sorry about that, I just figured…that…" Breyner muttered shyly and scratched his cheek. "If this is supposed to be our last day, then we should probably make it worth it, you know? For both of us. Since...like, technically the day isn't over yet, so...you know? What do you say, goddess? If you want me to leave, I'm leaving." "I want you to stay." Lilliana said quickly and the words that came out of her mouth surprised them both, but she knew it wasn't a lie. "Her defenses crumbled, her passions burst into flames, she ran across the room and threw herself into the young man's arms. "She caught the adventurer on his feet, which made him twist his body to accommodate his sudden speed. "Before she knew it, she was kissing him on the lips as hard as she could, their moist mouths now crushed haphazardly against each other's. "It was as if a bubble of pent-up energy had burst, flooding them both with a lust that had been contained even during their morning "sessions." Their passions ignited, they breathed deeply in each other's scent, even as their tongues began to carve territory in their partner's mouth. "Pfah!" Lilliana stepped back to get some air. "A thin, slippery thread of saliva formed a bridge between her lips and Breyner's. "She knew the lustful expression on Breyner's face mirrored hers. "Hahahaha! Goddess! Oh Goddess...hr mph!" Once again, Lilliana filled the gap, assaulting the young man's mouth with as much as she could muster. "Her lover retaliated deftly, sending a spiral of pleasurable sensations straight into her mind. Breyner broke the kiss after a moment when he started running his tongue across the skin. "Chills ran down his spine as she moaned in appreciation. "She ran her hands through his hair as he explored her chin, then around her neck, before pushing the fabric of his shirt loose to caress her collarbone. Lilliana slapped his head before her lips reached the top of his breast. "Wait no. I've had a really long day. Let me wash first." The boy stubbornly ignored her, and soon, her feeble attempt to push him away lessened as she gave in to the sensations he was giving her. "She sighed in resignation and relaxed in the young man's arms. "Even though he was a little smaller and less burly than most men she knew, there was still strength in his arms, which tickled her feminine instincts. "Well that's fine... if that's what you want, I think we're doing it like this..." Taking that as a cue, Breyner lifted her by the buttocks before putting her to bed. "He pulled on the rest of his sweat-stained, oily clothes, then lifted his legs to remove his pants. "Soon, all she wore was her panties and leather boots. Breyner rubs his cheeks as he hardens the leather surface on either side of his face, breathing in deeply the scent that combines with the goddess's natural musk. "Then he licked all the way to her knees, after which he parted them, allowing him access to Lilliana's steaming crotch. "You look ready, goddess." Breyner commented with a wry smile. "Of course, having known his private places more intimately than anyone else over the past few months, he knew just by smell how the goddess was wired, and how ready she was to be fucked. "The young man pulled her panties down and stepped forward to take the opportunity to crush his face against her mound. "Wait." Lilliana said again. "I know you're as ready as I can be. So why don't we…?" She made a hidden signal with her fingers, which Breyner immediately understood. "Nodding, he rose and removed the rest of his clothes, before joining the goddess on the bed. "He lay down on the mattress. "Lilliana moved above him and arranged their bodies in such a way that her groin now rested on his head, and her face now bulged above his growing erection. "Ahh... It feels like a long time." Lilliana commented, taking a deep breath into her cock. "Though it had only been this morning since she tasted it. Breyner began to trace a line, back and forth, with the tip of his tongue across the area where her luscious thighs converged on her steaming pussy. "With each repetition, his mouth moved closer and closer to her center of fire, until finally her touch grazed his bulging pink lips, which twitches uncontrollably; the sensations sending shivers down his spine. "Then Breyner began to run his tongue over a target of opportunity: her swollen clit, which made the goddess squirm even more with the sensations of pleasure. "As he licked her pussy, Lilliana was not idle for long. "She captured his long, turgid length with her mouth and curled her tongue over its surface. "The glans twitched at the back of her throat as she began to slide her mouth up and down Breyner's post, her lips extending from tip to base, deep into his throat without a fuss. "Breyner gasped, flinching at his cunnilingus, but he recovered with alacrity, tearing at her pussy without abandon. Lilliana moaned even as she began to rub her hips into Breyner. "Saliva running freely over his erect cock and twitching, her head bobbed up and down faster and faster, her lips sliding with loud, slick smacking sounds. "All the while his mouth formed that familiar vacuum pressure across the inside of her hot, wet mouth that she knew Breyner loved, judging by the way he desperately slid his tongue to caress the inside of her pussy, finding that bundle of nerves. that always fired lightning down his spine. "Marg Hhh! Hhhh!" Incoherent sounds came from her throats as the pleasure of the crazy 69 position overwhelmed her senses. "Lilliana's hips swiveled furiously over her face, not caring that she might ache; as he thrust upward with more fervor, making her choke on the flesh invading the unprepared caverns of her throat. "Lilliana closed her eyes and milked the sensations for as long as she could, the fullness invading her mouth sending a warm, perverted sensation through her body, a delicious thrill of submission that made her pussy quiver and clench; in turn, this made her pussy contract and her fellatio rhythm more desperate, which made Breyner even more aggressive with her clit convulsing. Her orgasms triggered almost at the same time. "The goddess's divine nectar cascaded over her face, bathing her tongue, nose, and lips in her essence; then he flooded her mouth with his semen, releasing large, thick clumps of his seed through her waiting throat. "Overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through her body, Lilliana collapsed limply on top of Breyner; it had the effect of crushing her pussy further on him, while her mouth was practically impaled on her cock, which still pulsed hot semen in wild, geyser-like bursts. The postcoital bliss didn't last long, but not because it was "time" to stop, as if this were just one of her morning sessions. "They moved, then came together, wrapping arms and legs in a wet, steaming embrace. "Lilliana's round globes pressed hard against Breyner's chest, her hardened nipples grazing against the smooth, muscular surface. "She smiled as he began to caress the valley of her breasts, sniffing deeply of her musk. "They fought playfully, licking and teasing sensitive spots on their bodies to take advantage, to be the one to dominate: in the end, revealingly, it was the human adventurer who triumphed, who pinned the dark goddess to the bed and hovered over her with a glare. triumphant. They wasted no more time on foreplay: she was well-oiled and he was stiff and ready. "He punched her glorious folds in one blow. "Lilliana gasped, even as she held the headboards above her. "The familiar notes of the wet, fleshy sounds of reproductive sex echoed throughout the room. "Lilliana's moans turned to barely contained squeaks as Breyner thrust more and more in ever-increasing intensity, pounding into her deepest core as if searching for something inside him. "Lilliana's grip on the headboard increased in tune with her convulsing pussy, and now she made loud squeaking noises with each of Breyner's deep, piercing thrusts. ~xXx~ When the orgasm seized them again, they sealed the moment with a kiss. "She tasted herself in him and herself in hers, and for long moments, as her womb drank every dose his inexhaustible cock could bring, her mouths were locked in a frantic battle. "The night is still a child." Lilliana said, slowly biting Breyner's neck. "Come on Fast Step. Make me, fuck me so hard I forget everything." Breyner obeyed promptly, eagerly, knowing this would likely be the last time he would have sex with a goddess. "Their sweat fell around them like morning dew as their connected genitals grew hotter and hotter, becoming a furnace from which nothing but pleasure could escape. "Words failed; only animal grunts accompanied their desperate lovemaking as they reached orgasm many more times. "Most of the time, Lilliana was lost in Breyner's eyes, like pools of crystals drawn from the deepest parts of the earth; while he mounted fiery offensives in her deepest parts. "When she fell, he fell with her; but in their fall they soared high, higher than they had ever felt before. It was almost dawn when they finally lost most of their energy. "They knelt on the bed, their bodies glistening from the drying fluids; falling asleep and waking up, feeling safe and comfortable in each other's arms. "Bring your goddess tomorrow." Lilliana said, when she was sure they were both awake. "When you get the sword." "Huh? What for?" Breyner blinked slowly in confusion. Lilliana smiled to herself as she lazily traced circles across her chest. "Just trust me. And play along." ~xXx~ The next morning, Breyner brought Mimosa with him to the workshop, as Lilliana had requested. "The other goddess looked a little suspicious, like she had a vague notion of something that was about to happen, but she couldn't quite tell what it was. Lilliana received them in her office. "Breyner's new sword was wrapped in a cloth on the table in front of her. "Let's cut to the chase. Breyner here is working on his part to pay off the debt." Mimosa's eyes widened, gleaming with betrayal. "Did you tell him?" "Actually Mimosa…" said Breyner shyly. "I kind of figured that out on my own. And I came here to try and beg for a way to settle the debt." "And good and wonderful news Mimosa, the debt is paid." Lilliana said, as Mimosa stared wide-eyed at her family. "Thanks to the ore Breyner gave me." "...I knew there was something special about that mineral you found! It really means I don't have to work anymore to pay off the debt! Oh Breyner, this is wonderful news. Kyahahahahaha!" Mimosa happily said smiling and took Breyner in what felt like a bone-crushing hug, pressing his head against her voluptuous breasts. Lilliana watched Mimosa's provocative antics with amazement. "She clapped her hands together quickly. "Hey, hey, you two better decide to put this fire out when you get home. I haven't even gotten to the second part of what I'm about to say." "Before that, I would still like to thank you too, Lilliana! Although it may have been hard work trying to pay off the debt, I have no resentment! Still, I must thank you from the bottom of my heart!" Mimosa said quickly and leapt forward to hug Lilliana; coincidentally, she squeezed a part of her that was still sore. "Gyaoh!" Lilliana grunted aloud. "Eh? What's wrong?" Mimosa asked curiously. "Yeah…fuh…nothing. Just…my hips…I…" Lilliana glanced at Breyner, who was looking at Mimosa's bouncing ass. "I hurt them recently. Anyway, it's not important now! Now listen to me." Lilliana gently shooed Mimosa away, before pointing to the cloth rolled up on the table. "I made a sword for Breyner, another weapon that would help him. Don't worry, the sword is free and it's a gift." Lilliana said quickly and unrolled the cloth and revealed the weapon for them to see. "Oh, thanks to... W-my thing, but this is an impressive looking weapon." Mimosa muttered with a trace of admiration in her voice. Even Breyner, who knew about the sword, was surprised by its appearance. Lilliana offered it to him fist-first, and he looked reverently at the blade as he tried to swing it. "Translucent, bluish-white runes gleamed in an unknown tongue on the blade itself. Lilliana pointed at them. "There's the question of which runes I decide to use it with. And since I don't work with these complicated things, I had someone else to do it." Lilliana said with a shrug, she had to spend most of the morning, right after parting with Breyner, finding the specific rune smith in question. "She had to endure pain in her hips to get there, and she had to hide it before embarrassing questions arose. "Wait…oh no…" Mimosa's mouth dropped open as she realized the implication of the runes. Lilliana nodded, as if she recognized that fact. "I took on the brunt of the cost of the runes. But in a small, irrelevant bad news, Breyner will have to pay the debt. It's nothing serious... it's not as expensive as the dagger. But I suppose Breyner will need to keep helping me in the future, as they have done before. What do you think, Breyner? Will you accept the sword and all its associated costs?" They matched their eyes. "At that moment, the Goddess Mimosa was oblivious to the almost overflowing heat of passion that ignited between them. Breyner smiles happily. "Of course. I want the sword. I'll keep helping you, goddess. But at least now, Mimosa won't have to work as hard as before.v "Oh Breyner, this is so cute...I...I kind of feel like crying... *sob* *sob*Oh how I love you." Lilliana smiled happily. "Good." As a stammering, tear-red Mimosa struggled to convey her feelings through words to Breyner, Lilliana turned away. "Then she spoke, as if the thought had just occurred to her. "Oh, and I'm also going to demand your cleaning work tonight, Breyner. Is that okay with you?" Lilliana quickly asked and turned and looked at her lover, who waved enthusiastically over Mimosa's black hair. "I would be happy." Breyner said quickly, giving a wink that only Lilliana could see. Lilliana blushed and felt the heat rekindle in her navel. "She licked her lips. "She looked forward to the work they would do. ~xXx~ All things were fair in love and war, the Goddess Lilliana reflected, as she worked on yet another committee inside her workshop. "Her muscles were tense, her brows furrowed, sweat running down the well-toned surface of her skin as she went about her many tasks at the moment. "First, there was the question of the commission, of course, from which she simply could not escape. "There have been many cases where she had to delay a day or two in delivering her wonderful and beautiful creations. "Dunafhar's many adventurers over the course of three years observed this change in the Lilliana family, causing many to conclude that the business was booming, as there was no other way to explain the delay than a long and arduous waiting list. "It could not be, they reasoned, that the standards of the prestigious Armor Makers and Weapon Makers of Dungeon City had fallen, as their creations and those of their Family remained impeccably functional and impossible to accuse of shoddy work. "Lilliana certainly used this excuse, even to her own Family, who, with good reason, were concerned in her own way. "There was always a little bit of truth there, as the business grew, which caused a large backlog of orders that stretched for years. "Second on his mind, then, was the reason for the "lapse" in her standards. "Her mortal lover, the fluffy, irresistible and no less virile adventurer Breyner Brickell. For the past three years, they'd kept this love affair secret, stealing kisses and moments during the empty hours she was supposed to create, and he was expected to work on his duties as an adventurer. "They had an inside joke to themselves: "Breyner, you stretched my queue as much as you stretched my ass." In this way, they were trapped in an endless stream of occult debauchery, fueled by the goddess' inflamed sexual needs and Breyner's near-godly sexual endurance. "Together, this proved a potent combination that would leave them trapped in their mutual passions, always seeking the pleasure of mating with each other. However, all the while, she was very anxious that their little encounters would be nothing more than that and nothing more. "No expressions of love or devotion were required or needed to be said between them. "Lilliana always insisted to Breyner that they were just keeping an insignificant pact, and that there was nothing else. "And then, after a while, Breyner seemed to get the hint and started chasing other women with incredibly frightening speed. "His charisma was certainly deadly, as it was soon rumored that he was not only an adventurer with the greatest potential, but also a genuine heartbreaker with an insatiable appetite for the female form. "In addition to her own Mimosa which Lilliana was pretty sure was filled by Breyner at least three or four times a day, certain names always popped up again and again, such as Ayans, Ryuu and Sulphur, kept coming up as women involved in the newfound feminine methods of Breyner. "Fortunately, this never turned out to be a complete scandal, which in itself was an intriguing thing, but Lilliana never tried to speculate too much. "After all, she was as much of a "headboard carving" as the others, although she had the much more onerous role of actually being the one to unleash this cute, greedy little monster on the female population at large. Three years, therefore, passed in this way. "Lilliana chose not to talk to Breyner about it, so he kept going while the two continued their little "side business". "Unfortunately, it now culminates in a complicated situation, which Lilliana now contemplates as the third most prominent thought in her mind. It happened last night. "The stars were very bright and clear in the night sky, which made for a very romantic scene. "So he gave Lilliana the idea of having their date on her workshop roof, to add a little cozy atmosphere to her love life. "Not that love wasn't on her mind or something. "Definitely not. The stout young man, having just completed his tasks for the day, had arrived promptly. "But before he could wash up in his personal quarters, she ambushed him and dragged him upstairs to the roof, where they wasted no time in starting their mating. Breyner trailed his finger around the curves of her breast, pulling the fabric to expose her flesh to the bright moonlight. "Her intense gaze remained on her as his other hand caressed her sides, tracing the sensual curves of her body; at the same time he teased her with the extraordinary changes in Breyner's own body over the years, which had turned him into a wonderful, virile specimen. "He nuzzled her neck, his lips nipping, licking and sucking her tongue and tracing a damp patch over her skin with his saliva, making her shiver and gasp with pleasure. "With practiced ease, he swept her underwear over her breasts as he would a lowly monster, revealing the full breadth of her breast, which he greedily consumed. "His tongue licked and sucked each of her tits, making her breath hitch as his teeth grazed them as his hands massaged and squeezed the rest of her mountains. Then his face traveled down her torso, undoing even more of her clothes as he moved forward, rubbing his face against her navel, leaving provocative bites on every surface as if to claim him on his behalf, branding her skin with his mouth. "Her body shuddered in pure delight as he removed the last of her top clothes, leaving her upper body exposed to the beautiful starry sky. "On and on, Breyner explored lower and lower, pulling her pants down to gather around her ankles as his tongue traveled around her hips, teasing and planting kisses over the smooth surface of her buttocks, even as her hands reached each buttock with a firm grip. "A breathless moan escaped her as his hands tugged at her silver hair, her unspoken desire as apparent as she crossed his lone eye with her masterful crimson gaze. They kissed deeply once more as they finished undressing, until they were both naked under the night sky, their pristine leather boots the only piece of clothing left. "They made a bed out of their discarded clothes, and Breyner laid it on top of it as he moved on top of her, ready to claim her once more, as he always had. "He grabbed her hands, lacing her fingers with his as his legs parted her thighs, until his big, powerful weapon, hot and rigid with desire, slid inside her, his tight, warm embrace greeting him with such enthusiasm. "He moaned when she did, each of them reveling in the exquisite pleasure the other brought, even as their joined hips began the ancient rhythm no man or goddess could escape, the primal, heavenly exultation of sex. "Their mouths were greedily locked together; hot, wet tongues fighting for control even as he rode her hard, fierce, enticing moans to resonate in the starry night. "She absorbed each of his thrusts like a metal plate delivers its hammer blows - firmly, gently and always with the promise of even more. "In the meantime, he penetrated her with every last ounce of his strength, plowing her heavenly hole with his own legendary weapon, ensuring that this divine sheath was molded for him and him alone. "He wanted her; she wanted him. "Each of them wanted more. "Again, and again, and again and again, for it would never be enough. "Then, at the end of its almost infinite rhythm, almost unbearably painful and happy, when its peak reached and the stars above were replicated in their minds drunk with pleasure; he painted his insides once more with his essence, For a long time they just lay there, kissing, hand in hand, their faces pressed together as their tongues lazily explored each other's mouths. "The cool night air gently soothed the fire in their bodies, with Breyner's manhood still firmly buried in its depths. "Eventually, after a while, the mortal's hips began to move, causing the goddess to sigh as her obscene mating sounds filled the night once more, the couple seemingly oblivious to anyone who might have overheard their scandalous mating. … Well, a risky outdoor encounter where anyone could have spied on them from the street, or another roof, was already an invitation to disaster, but so far they'd done it many times before, and there was hardly ever a problem. "In fact, there were places much riskier than this one. "Lilliana sucked him many times while he talked to someone else, usually his own goddess. "Breyner had even brought her scream to orgasm, fingers planted firmly inside her panties, while Mimosa stood there cooking a meal, with the goddess never realizing the truth, or deliberately ignoring it. "There was the time they fucked inside a market stall where she was displaying her wares. "With their family mere inches apart, and a hot day being on top of that, the two became like sweaty pigs in heat, trying their best to stifle the various sounds of sex before anyone noticed. "The most audacious, in her opinion, was the "Bota Obscena" incident. "It involved a half-drunk idea concocted at a feast, her disturbed whisper to Breyner during one of her sessions, and the adventurer returning to her with exactly what they needed: a cloak of invisibility. "After a moment full of self-pity for having come this far, a part of her that was thrilled with the development still followed through with the plan. "That's how the couple spent an entire day inside Dunafhar's Labyrinthine Dungeon, totally naked, with only the invisibility cloak to hide their presence. "The thrill of being discovered, and no less attacked by any monsters while he was inside, had made the resulting sex sweeter and more depraved than they'd ever had. "This was counterbalanced by the fact that they were actually seen by other adventurers in the midst of their mating, though only mild when they saw the boots Lilliana wore, floating like disembodied body parts as Breyner shook her off his tail. "And rumors arose of a pair of flying boots, screaming obscenities, began to circulate through the city, and presented themselves as some kind of newfound monster, much to Lilliana's eternal embarrassment. So no, this night date wasn't that extreme compared to the other times and methods they'd done. "It wasn't even that romantic, no matter how much Breyner commented. ~xXx~ It was then at midnight, after Breyner had slipped away, leaving a loosely dressed Lilliana to meditate in silence as she looked out over the city, that the trouble began. "And that came in the form of another goddess, who suddenly materialized when Lilliana turned her head. "Hello, my naughty little cute sister~" Lucille's familiar, teasing voice entered Lilliana's ears. Lilliana took only a moment to understand: from the playful smile of her annoying older sister, who by the way had also ascended to divinity, the mischievous look in her eyes, to the riskier outfit she wore, as if on the lookout for those she could sexually devour. "All of this added to an accomplishment that made Lilliana only bow her head. "Aw, shit." Lilliana muttered with a look of defeat. Lucelle gave an innocent giggle that was anything but innocent. "Oh, it's not that bad, sister. Don't fear that fact, alright?" "Ughh…" Lilliana moaned in frustration, she really could feel a headache coming on. "Not only was the great and influential Lucelle here, she also knew about her and Breyner! Frankly, she didn't really care if the other goddess wanted to blackmail her, but she was sorry to have to pull Breyner into this. "Since when?" Lucelle asked. "Mhm… three years is a long time." Lucelle muttered curiously, walking to contemplate the great city as she had so many times before.. "How long? You…" Lilliana opened her eyes quickly. "Wait, wait, have you been…watching?" Lucelle took a deep breath. "Ahhh, the scent of young, blossoming love. It's always so rich and trusting." Lucelle slowly raised an eyebrow curiously as she looked at Lilliana. "I had my eye on young Brickell for a while before you arrested him, after all your grandmother always did an excellent job for me in her younger days. How could I not quickly discover your secret relationships, little sister? Oh, but it was all so cute, how did you act like that! Like it's a shameful secret or something... well, I say no. It's beautiful, actually." "Damn it." Lilliana moaned in frustration. "A… Just kill me now." "Don't be so upset about it, little sister." Lucelle said happily with a smile on her face. "Like I said, don't be afraid. I'm not here to brag or demand anything. Well, not from you." "Which?" Lilliana said quickly, she had a confused look on her face. "The time has come." Lucelle said with a smile on her face. "Breyner blossomed and became the adventurer I wanted him to be. He even became the man I wanted him to become. adventures you thought were a secret; even running your business with those other lovely girls. I've waited a long time for this plant to bloom, for it to ripen like a fruit before picking it up for me. I have to thank you for pushing it to this point, for nourishing my plant, as it were. And now: now, I find your charms irresistible. Now I cannot help wanting to devour you completely. To savor your taste, the accumulation of many years of toil and effort to arrive up to this point." "This is a disturbing speech, sister." Lilliana said, giving her older sister a disgusted look. "I just want to fuck him sister." Lucelle said bluntly, making Lilliana shiver, and shrugging. "So are you. I assume, as you've always done, that you have no objections to this?" Lilliana's face turned red. "W-of course not! Why would anyone think that?" Lucelle smiled like a cat. "So you wouldn't object to me claiming Breyner as my lover then?" "No, do what you want! You big street bitch!" Lilliana said quickly, turning to leave. "She couldn't handle Lucelle right now, especially after sex. "Sex always made her feel vulnerable and loving "Don't go yet, dear little sister." Lucelle said randomly. "Blackmail starts now." Lilliana immediately stopped and turned slowly to Lucelle. "Which?" Lilliana asked with wide eyes. "I just ask for a small favor." Lucelle said lazily. "In order to ease my transition into Breyner's arms, I would like to ask a favor in exchange for my divine spark fragment that I gave you many, many centuries ago." "This is a joke?" Lilliana asked with a raised eyebrow. "No, like I said, this is blackmail, my dear sister. No one else knows about your little affairs but you… maybe Mimosa too, that girl is smart, she just doesn't want to think about things too much, and I'm sure she would like to keep it that way, the less the better, right?" ~xXx~ About a week later, Breyner returned once more from a successful trip to the dungeon for another encounter with his goddess. "Not Mimosa, who said he was visiting some other gods for a date about him, but his other''goddess ``, the lover he had taken on, the beautiful and ravishing Goddess of Blacksmiths, Lilliana. Lilliana told him that she had a surprise waiting for him on their next date, which honestly got him extremely excited. "Everything she did and suggested turned him on at this point, possibly even more than when Ayans proposed a trio with Silpher, in the Adventurers Guild's supply depot, or when Mimosa plays the role of a sex slave for some reason, or in the dungeon when Ryuu was trapped in the mucus of a gooey monster known as "Smile", and she actually demanded that he brutally rape her before he could free her. "Yes, when Lilliana said she had a surprise hoping it was a very exciting prospect, because it meant she was actively thinking about it. When Breyner arrived at her workshop, he was a little disappointed to see that Lilliana was there, waiting. "Sure, Lilliana was half-naked, but she didn't really look any different. "Then he saw her pointing to a strange chair, strange because he had never seen her before. "Then he saw the bindings on the table, along with the piece of cloth. "Sex blindfolded? Oh, goddess, you remembered!" Breyner said happily. "Calm down, you." Lilliana said. "She quickly moved forward purposefully, her thick boots thudding loudly on the ground. "Just do what you say." "Yes!" Breyner exclaimed happily aloud and hurried to do as Lilliana said. "The blindfolded game was a rather rare feast for them, as Lilliana had said she had reservations about the whole thing. "But whenever she nodded, he knew he could expect her to do mind-blowing things with her boots, as well as raunchy, bare-backed chair sex later. "At the mere thought of anticipation, her erection nearly exploded out of her pants, threatening to rip her apart. In less than a minute she had him trussed and helpless in the chair, his monstrous erection even more apparent protruding from beneath the fabric of his pants. "Accompanied by a sweet kiss on the lips, she took away her vision, which immediately made her other senses sharpen, her arousal reaching a fever pitch. Lilliana quickly unbuttoned his pants, making his erection spring to full attention like a ship's mast. "Mhm? Anxious, aren't you?" Lilliana asked, laughing. "Yes, certainly goddess." Breyner spoke quickly. "She gave his imposing flesh a firm tug. "Then he heard the rustling sound of clothes, obviously she was undressing. "He craved this, anticipation burning him inside. "Eventually, the sensation he sought came at last: the feel of smooth leather sliding against her length meant she had now encircled him along the sides of his boots, inducing sweet sensations and teasing him with an irresistible pleasure. "Like a dog chained with food dangling in front of him, Breyner strained and struggled in his restraints, desperate to rub and touch her length against the leather surface of his boots. "Do you like it?" Lilliana asked curiously. "Yes!" Breyner said happily aloud. "Good boy." Lilliana muttered gently. "With gentle tugging motions, her feet rubbed up and down his length, attacking him with all sorts of delicious tortures. "He quickly reached a peak of bronze, but as if sensing it, she quickly withdrew, and the feel of the boots around him vanished into thin air. "He moaned at the sudden interruption and didn't calm down, even as she approached and trailed kisses all over his face. "Mmm... Do you like it? There's more coming, don't worry." Lilliana whispered softly into Breyner's ear. "Ohhh...goddess..." Breyner muttered randomly. Unbeknownst to Breyner, someone else entered the room, and sidled up close to the entwined lovers. "Lilliana was well aware of his presence, however, and despite the doubts that could be clearly seen on her face, the newcomer walked confidently towards Breyner. As Lilliana began licking and stroking Breyner's neck, the newcomer's hands began running all over Breyner's clothing, unbuttoning and opening where necessary, until they could access the skin underneath. Breyner moaned under the intense, tortuous pleasure he thought his goddess was giving him, still clueless. "It was only when those same hands encircled his cock, slowly rubbing up and down his length, that he realized something was wrong. "It wasn't a pair of hands on his erection, but he could clearly feel that Lilliana's hands were the ones against her back. "The impossibility of this situation made his mind wake up, alarms ringing, as he said, "Wait, what the hell is going on? Is anyone else here?" Breyner heard a snort, which he could definitely tell was Lilliana. "But another voice, something he hadn't expected to hear in this place, soon followed. "I'm here too, my lovely Breyner~." "Huhhh?" Question marks could have been easily visible above Breyner Brickell's head, indicating his great confusion about all of this. "The deception was quickly discovered when the blindfold was removed from his eyes, revealing the truth. "And the truth shook Breyner deeply. Breyner knew her. "Of course he knew her. "He had spoken to her several times, had even borne the brunt of her teasing. "Her presence, almost entirely rarely seen in the city, was that of a magnificent and attractive woman, brazenly showing off her feminine aspects in her manner of dress, but also totally unafraid of censure or undignified attention. "In fact, she even seemed to revel in being a sight that would turn heads everywhere she went. "For it was not only her sublime beauty that made her seem an untouchable entity, it was also the fact that she possessed one of the most powerful forces among all the New Gods, and perhaps even beyond. This was Lucelle, a Goddess Breyner knew to some degree. "And yet, what he thought he knew and what was being shown to him were very different things at the moment. "Lucelle liked to dress provocatively, showing off her sensual curves, but now she was, to Breyner, a symbol of everything he desired. "Her sexy body was covered in shiny leather, skimpy and skintight. "Her breasts jutted out like big fat lemons, gripped tightly and accentuated under her dress. "Her cleavage was even lighter to see, almost on the verge of exposing herself to him; her belly, slender, smooth and unmarked, was bare. "Her leather leggings made her buttocks look thicker than usual, neatly following the contours of her thick, luscious thighs and wide hips. "Finally, she wore thick leather boots, pitch black and shiny. "What… what… what… Goddess?" Breyner asked breathlessly. "In fact." Lilliana replied. "Her body was so close he could almost breathe deeply with her scent. "What are you... What's going on?" In response, her hand cupped her chin, the sudden sensation of her touch sending shocks down her spine. "This was almost exactly like the first time he touched Lilliana, and also how quiet he sometimes felt, the feeling of boldly touching someone whose entire existence was rooted in the divine was a pleasure entirely in itself. "Her entire face felt like a sex organ unto itself, the continual contact heating her entire face, even when her skin felt as sensitive as the tip of his cock. And then when her hand returned to his crotch, stroking and rubbing along its length, the sensation doubled, tripled, quadrupled, so that his eyes fluttered, and he struggled to stifle his orgasm. "A small member of it jumped and writhed with each tug, as eager as an animal to its owner. Her words rang in his ears as if she had spoken a magical spell directly into them. "Breyner Brickell. I will formally claim you now. You are mine." Their first kiss was electric for Breyner, like all first kisses with his girls. "But there was something else at stake here, something different arising from his point of contact. "It was as if a spell that affected the mind had been cast on him. "The kiss wasn't just a kiss. "It was a promise of so much more, and so images, each one more depraved than the one before, assailed him, filling him with a hungry and endless desire. "Time and space and all mortal troubles were nothing as he claimed this divine apparition, mating with her indefinitely as he consecrated her as a sacred vessel for her seed and for him alone. "When the kiss ended, the images faded, but somehow they remain, forever etched in his memory. "He then realized that she had once again turned her attention to his body, unwrapping it like a gift. "He watched as she removed her pants completely, before running her hands like a ghost along the surface of her thighs, making a pleasant tingle run down her spine. It was then that Breyner finally remembered that Lilliana was there too, silently but furiously, continuing her loving care for him as if nothing had changed. "This was even more evident when the two goddesses in the room kissed him on each cheek, sending him once again down the path of rapt imagination. "There he was like a storm cloud, enveloping, almost suffocating, almost invisible as he curled around the glorious naked bodies of Lilliana and Lucille, mating with them at the same time, each point of contact causing thunderous crashes and lightning bolts to break out from within him; until finally, after nearly a millennium of the creation of these goddesses, wet, slippery streams burst from within, covering the earth below with a glorious rain... "What's… happening…" Breyner quickly gasped, his mind snapping back to the present. "Though it was only a brief flash of imagination, he still felt as if he had lived through each moment, as if he had become a divine apparition. "She's using her perverted magic on you." Lilliana said, with some derision in her tone. "It's all part of my charm." Lucelle purred happily, she was now breathing directly over Breyner's erection. "Witchcraft, you mean." Lilliana pointed out the drying. "You can't be considered a Fertility Goddess without exuding this endless charm." Lucelle responded with a shrug. "My dear Breyner, this is just the consequence of lying with a goddess. It's fortunate that your aspects are so far removed from the sexual act that you've only been able to glimpse a hint of divine ecstasy, but since I'm your partner, all my charms are now aimed at you, resulting in this. Don't worry. I'll make it worth it." Lucelle said and with that her lips descended on the tip of her cock, swallowing deftly as she looked directly at him. Breyner gritted his teeth, feeling completely drunk on alcohol in less than a minute. "Every sensation she gave him was sweet, searing torture. "She licked, teased, swallowed, moving slowly down until he was half-housed in her divine voice box; before she moved further, sucking the entire time until her lips centered around the base of his cock, nearly half of it had gone down her throat. "Then she moved her head up and down, and her throat elongated, sliding it in and out of the tight confines of her mouth and throat as if it were nothing, while dipping sloppily with a generous dose of saliva. . For Breyner, it was as if lightning continued to flash through his mind as the undeniably sweet torture of Lucelle's sudden blowjob coursed through him, gripping him in a paroxysm of pleasure he couldn't easily escape. "A wild part of him yearned to be released, to wrap her in her arms, run his fingers through her hair, take her head and drive his cock into her over and over again until she choked on him, goddess or not. "He was therefore close to the climax right there, and it was signaled by a stiffening of his shoulders and a chill moving down towards her cock. "Her balls clenched as he exploded inside her as he desperately tried to contain himself, to no avail. "Strings of her white seed gushed down his throat, painting his insides freely. "Through half-closed eyes, he saw the triumphant look in Lucille's eyes, and the flush that crept into her cheek as her throat moved, accepting all he could give her in silence, her throat growling and giving it to him still more pleasure than he had even thought possible. Breyner moaned again, and then he heard Lilliana say, "Wow, I haven't seen that face of his in a while. It's like you really drained him. Fuck me, that was hot." Dimly, he saw, with great surprise, that Lilliana was only on the bed, half-naked, her feet shod high as her hands were buried in the juncture of her thighs. "One last gush of sperm from her and he was sated, all her ejaculation having been deposited deep in the goddess's belly, as if he'd fed her completely. "When she withdrew from him, she did so slowly, deliberately, making sure he could deeply feel each mouthful of hers against her length as they moved out of the warm confines of her oral passage. "After leaving her lips with a smack, Lucelle opened her mouth, proving that she had drunk it all, proving that she had willingly swallowed her seed. Lucille's voice was deep and sensual as she responded to Lilliana's earlier statement. "Don't worry. He'll fuck you as scheduled today as soon as I'm done." "Goddess." Breyner said, speaking in a similar way to the way he always addressed Mimosa and later Lilliana: reverently and with great awe. "Her erection rose, as if to greet her. "He wanted her like a hungry beast hungry for food. "He wanted to raise her, mate with her, and make love to her. "To take and plunder everything about her, at the same time he totally gave himself to her. "And as if she felt that brutal desire, as if she too desired everything he wanted, she rose and deftly straddled him, her leather-clad boots clinging to her shoulders as she presented an opening in her pants, a delicious zip made that exposed the wonderful pink entrance to his inner domain. "Her lower lips danced against his erection playfully, never too close or too far, but always just out of reach, "You are mine now, as you have been since you first caught my eye, Breyner Brickell." Lucelle proclaimed. "And therefore it is your privilege, if you choose to accept me, to claim me as yours in turn. What do you say?" "I am yours, Goddess!" Breyner screamed quickly, and in that moment she answered him, pushing his cock down hard. "Within moments she had fully engulfed his length, and after only a few seconds of hesitation, she began to quickly jump on his cock. "She was already very wet, he discovered, which only fueled her passion. "Her pale skin, which wasn't hidden by her leather outfit, turned red with the effort. "Though he'd just come, he had energy left over from his years as an adventurer, which he'd put to good use by moving up in her pussy with everything he had. "As he did so, she introduced herself to him as an attractive beauty with few equals as she tightened around him as she breathed sweet sighs into his face as he responded to each upward thrust as her body moved and swayed. "Everything about her captivated him. "Then he quickly felt Lilliana behind him, and she undid her bonds, leaving her hands free at last. "He lifted the goddess onto her lap, which weighed almost nothing in her hands, and without withdrawing from her, he placed her on the bed, his hips ever advancing with the frantic, wild speed of a beast finally unleashed. Lucelle cried out in anticipation, her pussy clenching like an answering vice around him. "With her newfound freedom, her fucking pace grew. "Something in Breyner, primal and true, had come loose, causing him to jerk wildly, his hips moving and slamming into her with the speed of light. "It was here that Lucelle finally let out a cry of pure feminine joy as her legs wrapped around the mortal's back, caging him in her loving embrace, even as he experienced an ecstasy she hadn't felt in a long time. They came together, in such a strong and powerful way; and yet it was as if neither of them had noticed that moment, as each was so intent on creating the other that Breyner's movements had never stopped, even as large amounts of his jizz pumped straight into the goddess's center, covering your inner walls your color. "In turn, her love juices burst, splashing across his groin as the scent of her nectar wafted into the air, seducing him further and further into this frantic heat that would never end. "They both gasped and moaned in pleasure, Breyner for having successfully devoured another goddess, Lucelle for finally claiming him as her own. When it was over, he still remained rigid as a rock, still eager to continue. "She pushed him away, then turned him to the side so she could hover over him, her blond hair falling over her head. "She brushed a few strands behind her ear as she descended, until her face was level with his crotch once more. "She placed a kiss on his glistening, slippery cock, which was completely soaked in their mutual juices. "She planted a tongue between his slit while her lips massaged his head. Lucelle swallowed the rest of him, her lips creating a sucking motion that made him screech in agonizing ecstasy. "So when he settled deep inside her once more, she paused and then shared a knowing look with him. "In a flash, he realized what she wanted him to do. "And he did; taking the sides of her face, feeling the heat of her cheeks as he thrust his hips up, invading her throat hard. "She accepted it without hesitation, a deep gurgling moan echoing from her throat. "The rest of her mouth licked carelessly and pleasured her length even as he began to seriously fuck her face. "It was so liberating as an intoxicating wave of male dominance coursed through Breyner's mind. "Here he was openly violating the mouth of a goddess whom the whole town considered a superior existence, and now he was using her mouth as if it were an onahole made specifically for her use. "He pushed in and out, not caring for her comfort, for in fact she also gave no indication that she felt any discomfort; since she even seemed to enjoy being used as a cheap whore instead of being worshiped like the goddess she was. "Such mindless debauchery was perhaps her goal in itself, reducing a much-loved hero and goddess to little more than sex-crazed beasts, as evidenced by the frantic and desperate movements of Breyner's hips coinciding with the fluid flow of Lucelle's insides that now covered the floor. "All the time, thick sounds, When Breyner came, Lucelle didn't fully swallow him. "Her hands, revealing her true strength, kept him from pinning his head to her crotch, instead she allowed him to come until her cheeks swelled with his seed, then pushed him back until he sneezed the rest of her essence. burning in her face, instantly infecting the beautiful, perfect face of a goddess with deadly semen, covering her hair and causing drops of drying semen to run from her chin, ear, earrings and lips; it drips, drips, drips to stain his leather suit and the rest of his pale skin, creating lewd little dots and puddles of white on the glossy black surface. "For Breyner, who was watching, the desecration was complete, and though he knew little, he would now belong to Lucelle, and she to him. "She opened her lips, allowing part of her seed to flow, When his mind-blowing orgasm ended, he thought with certainty that it was over, or at least he assumed they would now come back for another round, as he was still hard and rigid, ready to unload another batch. "And yet he was unable to predict what happened next, for as soon as he stopped coming, Lucille's lovely slender fingers waved at Lilliana, causing the last goddess to approach. "Hm? What - wait, wow - hrymphhhhh!" In a lightning-quick move, Lucelle grabbed the other's head and planted her face against hers, before capturing Lilliana's mouth and thrusting her tongue down the latter's throat. "The other goddess could do nothing but squirm and struggle, as the surprise caught her completely off guard. "But then, as Breyner watched, entranced, Lilliana's tense shoulders relaxed, as she gave in, her body slumping against the others. "The obvious loud choking sound came, and it was clear that not only were the two goddesses kissing, Lucelle was also forcing a lot of her cum into Lilliana's mouth, judging by the loud, audible gulps and the way her throat moved. , forced to swallow pieces of its seed. When Lucelle finally pulled away, Breyner could see that Lilliana's only visible eye was stunned, as if she'd been fascinated by some kind of hypnotic spell. "Her tongue hanging out, obviously stained with remnants of her sperm. "Quickly, she began to lick the sperm that was still drying on Lucille's face, although to Breyner it was as if she were greedily devouring another goddess. "No matter the truth, the appearance was the same, and almost lesbian as the two goddesses kissed, clamoring for their sperm. This was how Lilliana was subdued and defeated, all for a purpose only Lucelle knew. "And Breyner was about to find that out when he placed the other goddess beside her and waved at him. "Tonight, he would dine with two divine spirits and savor their bodies as much as his mortal body could handle. "And so he dove into bed, straight into the pool of pleasure that only two goddesses could provide. Time lost all meaning for all of them. "Breyner fucked them both: side by side, one on top of the other, him sandwiched between her beautiful thighs, pressed between her joined breasts, or his leather boots urging him to a sloppy finish. "His endless lust, his passion reigned unabated, even the bed springs rang endlessly from their frantic and constant copulations. "Two ecstatic, vivacious goddesses enfolded him in their ethereal charms, pushing him to the limit as no other evidence has ever done, challenging his body as no other monster has ever done. "He freely shared Lilliana, his longtime lover, while at the same time lavishing all kinds of attention on Lucelle, his newest conquest. "They moved from the bed: with both of them leaning against the window, noticeable to anyone watching the workshop from afar, when he caught them from behind, alternately slamming into their bodies with the force of a man possessed. "He did this until their bodies were glazed with his sperm, their buttocks red and raw, until he perfected his mastery over their sinful bodies with his mortal seed. All the while, the two goddesses didn't neglect their attention on the other as they engaged in a lesbian duel of tongues and fingers, each trying one over the other and establishing dominance through deft jabs or exploiting a gap in the other. "Even as Breyner branded their bodies with his manly essence. "The sinful vision of your little side war, fought with much abandon and prolonged depravity. His earlier imagination felt like a prophecy, as Breyner slowly spent the night eternally entwined with the goddesses, just as the storm cloud had been. "They gave him pleasure from front to back, side by side, hip to hip, cock to mouth. "Both seemed to fervently seek pleasure in his body, rubbing themselves against him with the assurance of one who expects release from only one individual, him. "His voices were a repeated cacophony of high notes and shrill squeaks, a testament to the crucible of ultimate pleasure that held the three beings there. "They became like a three-headed writhing beast, making it impossible for a distant observer to discern where one began and the others ended. Repeatedly Breyner impregnated them, and of course the goddesses could be fertilized. When their climax came, Breyner was once again affected by a scene that went straight out of the imagination. "Though maybe, given the presence of the other goddesses with him, it really was a vision. "Hearts beating as one, they floated in a space beautified by the many twinkling lights that surrounded them, as if Breyner had ascended into the night sky. "From inside his body grew a constant heat, like a sun rising inside him. "The moment was so sacred, so sacred, that Breyner could do nothing but surrender fully to the tide of happiness that surrounded him. "As the last bits of scorching comets shot out of him, to land somewhere he couldn't see, Breyner felt... content, like a man who has finally reached the bosom of that Mother Goddess Primordial, even though it was actually between the embrace. of two goddesses where he found him. ~xXx~ Lucelle and Lilliana watched as Breyner Brickell dozed off, while his bodies remained entwined with his. "They preferred to stay that way, not because they'd been haggard and exhausted like the mortals, but because it felt so right. Even Lucelle, who initially entered the courtship with a superior attitude, felt humiliated, even when she felt another woman's body in bed. . "He's brilliant." Lucelle proclaimed throatily, her husky voice betraying the huskiness in her voice, a result of the myriad screams the relentless adventurer had coaxed out of her in his rippling lust. "Yes…that was obvious." Lilliana said, rolling her one visible eye. "For her, the start of last night's session was built behind a veneer of blackmail, as she was basically forced to keep playing. "But in the end, she tried something new and was satisfied, oddly enough. "Her gaze went to a spot on the wall, then she screamed quickly. "By the bells of heaven, it's morning!" "I've taken care of it, now shut up little sister, let him sleep." Lucelle said, smiling tenderly at the sleeping form of the young man who was squished between them. "What do you mean by that?" Lilliana asked curiously. "Oh, eu planejei coisas nesta cidade maravilhosa para garantir que nossa privacidade seja mantida. Eu também tomei a liberdade de encomendar os serviços de sua família neste esforço, então não se preocupe com isso." Lucelle disse com um encolher de ombros. "Eu acho que isso nos dá ... talvez um bom dia antes que alguém comece a fazer perguntas." Lucelle disse rapidamente e estendeu o braço livre, fazendo com que seu seio livre batesse levemente na bochecha de Breyner. "Inconscientemente respondendo, os lábios do aventureiro agarraram seu mamilo, fazendo Lucelle murmurar alegremente. "Tenha um bom dia?" Lilliana perguntou mais uma vez com curiosidade "Você quer continuar, sim?" Lucelle perguntou, as sobrancelhas levantadas. "......" Lilliana abriu a boca e de repente corou. "Ela queria dizer muitas coisas, mas sabia que não podia negar o único fato básico." Eu quero, é claro ... " “Então vamos dar a ele uma ou duas horas antes de acordá-lo. Então teremos até o pôr do sol para nos divertir. Falando nisso ... nem sempre podemos nos encontrar aqui para sexo. para a ocasião. "Lucelle disse com um brilho misterioso em seus olhos. "Espere, o quê? Novo lugar?" Lilliana perguntou curiosa. "Para que você precisa de um novo lugar?" "Para que?" Lucelle murmurou com um sorriso malicioso. "Para a nossa próxima vez, minha irmãzinha boba." O único olho visível de Lilliana se arregalou comicamente. "N-próxima vez?" "Obviamente." Lucelle disse com um encolher de ombros. "E para todo o tempo depois disso eu fiz. Especialmente se incluirmos suas outras garotas na mistura. Oooh ... Eu quero tanto fazer aquela pirralha peituda usar roupas de empregada e servir a sua amante." ~ xXx ~

Chapter 1 - The Kagura Sisters

Yasaka Kazuya never really knew how he got into the mess he made. He wasn't very good at keeping himself out of such crazy messes. He was good at getting rid of them. He often went ahead! It all started a few months ago. Kazuya was working with the Men in Black, although he wasn't one of them himself. They were playing with one of the few in existence, Archimedes' Hourglass, which he really didn't know if it was a good idea or not. They were trying to invent an Archimedes' Hourglass that could go back years instead of a few hours. They wanted to send one of their Nameless Men back in a single year, but they needed someone to protect him. That's how Yasaka Kazuya got involved. He was one of the best mercenaries money could buy, and with three Dark Lords and thousands of Dark Sorcerers in his great pile of kills, and besides he was extremely trustworthy and loyal, his business motto was;  A signed contract was an unbreakable contract. They quickly approached him and offered him a considerably vast amount of gold to come back and act as bodyguard for one of his men. He quickly agreed. All he needed to do was keep the guy healthy and stay out of sight. Everything went according to plan. At least it worked for the unspeakable motherfuckers to destroy the damn thing! He somehow ended up in 1974, before he was even born, and he didn't know where the hell his "Vip" ended up, or rather, when he ended up stopping. Still, he followed the plan as best he could... for the first few months. That's when he realized he was no longer in his own dimension! There were some clues that an experienced investigator like him was definitely able to pick up on, like the fact that his wonderful, incredibly beautiful mother was just a grumpy little brat with a runny nose who pulled the girls' hair at daycare! He was so pissed at those Men In Black that he had to knock himself out just to keep himself from marching towards the Ministry of Magic, to stop himself from becoming the Most Terrible and Powerful Dark Lord and literally bring a damn nuclear hell over the whole world. world!  All he could do was wait and see if the Men in Black of his day could fix things. Until then, he wouldn't sit idly by. Since he couldn't use the name Yasaka as his last name, he decided to use Hayama. He was technically a member of Clan Hayama, and although Clan Hayama's name was a bit infamous, there really weren't many who knew of its historical importance in the depths of the history of magic. Of course there were people like Gunnar Hallgrimsson, Imm Myung-dae and Amalia Martinez who knew this, but only because they were so interested in Quetzalcoatl's legendary Feathers. Registering was actually quite easy. He simply went to Japan's Ministry of Magic and performed a simple bloodline ritual. And since obviously, no one was using the name of Clan Hayama anymore, so there was no one alive around to challenge their title. He claimed the name and went to the bank. Clan Hayama still had a vault, but unfortunately it was emptied a long time ago. There wasn't even a single family heritage left. Fortunately, the deposit for the use of the safe had been paid in advance and there were still another thirty or so years to go. Now he just needed something to fill it and he knew exactly where to get it. He quickly did his deep research and quickly discovered who were and who were not Dark Sorcerers in this new world. He found those who were Dark Sorcerers and broke, quite easily, their protections and invaded their homes. He killed the arrogant, inbred pieces of shit and stole everything from them. He only did this a few times, so as not to rock the storm boat too much. He didn't want to draw too much attention to himself. At least he thought so until he found out about a special fight going on. It appeared that the Kaguras were in financial trouble and were offering their daughters, Kagura Sakura, Kagura Itsuka and Kagura Narumi as prizes to anyone who could win the caged battle they had waged. Entrance fees were impressive and outrageous! Three hundred thousand gold coins just to join the fight! Getting those girls out of the clutches of the future-not-so-future dark Lord Aizawa would be a devastating and terrible blow for him. Of course, Kagura Itsuka was never on his side in the first place, but Kagura Sakura was his Dark Lady, he was the only one who deserved a Dark Lady! Kagura Sakura was a wild beast in battle and often changed the course of a War of the Circle of Fire. Kagura Itsuka was one of the best and most incredible Healing Sorceresses that magic had the pleasure of conceiving. Kagura Narumi was also an incredibly intelligent and shrewd planner. It was she who changed Nagasawa's fortunes with money. The greasy, stupidly stupid idiot Nagasawa Enji just took the credit. If he could keep them away from Darkness, then his side would surely be reinforced by a brilliant mind and intelligence Narumi, an amazing healer Itsuka and by the skillful and wild Sakura. There was also a big bonus to her appearances. All three were absolutely beautiful! Sakura with her wonderful black hair, Itsuka with her sexy brown hair, little Narumi with her wonderful blonde hair. If he really wanted them, he could have them. All he needed to do was win this kids fight. He defeated three Dark Lords in less than a decade, just who do they think he was?  He had to kill a few more Dark Sorcerers from other countries who he definitely knew were rich and had some of their vast wealth hidden in their homes, but in the end, he had more than enough to pay for. Nine hundred thousand gold coins, that was a king's ransom for the girls, but they were really worth it. Especially considering he knew the protections of Clan Kagura lands better than anyone else, and he would find a way to steal some, if not all, back. If they were smart and kept the gold in the bank, he would take other items from the house. He knew very well that the inbred bastards had some very valuable items packed in some secret compartments. With the entry paid, just wait and train. All participants should be kept secret for the continued health of everyone involved. It would not be good for participants to be ambushed before they even enter the summit. He spied the arena where he would fight for the Kagura sisters. A dome-shaped cage, protected to the teeth, was being built for this occasion. He guessed that the Kaguras would also sell tickets to anyone who just wanted to watch a few fights, or maybe use the cage again for future fights, like a gladiatorial fight display. He calmly studied the wards, in secret of course. No magic could enter or leave the dome. After some tests, he quickly found that little things like beads of sweat and blood were the only things that could come out of the cage. He didn't think it was part of some of their master plans. It turned out to be a side effect of the overlapping protection scheme they had chosen. He studied everything he could. He wanted every possible advantage. After he learned as much as possible, all he could do was wait patiently, preferably among a woman's feathers. ~xXx~ Hayama Kazuya quickly learned of his only opponents. First, he would face someone named Midoriya Izuku to win Kagura Itsuka, then he would fight Nagasawa Enji to win Kagura Narumi and lastly, he would face Kumada Shota to win Kagura Sakura. He also took a good, gratifying look at the girls. They actually looked pretty sexy walking around wearing nothing but exhibition bikinis. They were made to display the "goods" of the daughters of magical families who were at the top of the social pyramid of the magical world. The Kaguras probably wanted the participants to be well prepared, to make a better fight. He would definitely give them a good fight. Kagura Itsuka and Kagura Narumi still looked like they were when he first met them in their younger years. They were obviously much younger than when he'd first met them, but they were still the same wonderfully beautiful women of their day, he lost track of how many times he'd spent masturbating thinking about them. Kagura Sakura, however, was a great and gratifying revelation. Kagura Sakura was definitely a woman graced by Goddess Aphrodite's blessing!  The Kagura Sakura he remembered was older and tired of spending long years in the depths of Honolulu Prison. She was very thin and wore a constant look of insanity on her wrinkled face. This Kagura Sakura was different! Kagura Sakura was young and beautiful, with long, thick hair and pale skin. His adorable hourglass figure had already pushed him to the edge of control. He just wanted to get out of this damn arena and fuck this bitch until she passed out from exhaustion! He had to get it out of his head for now. He had a fight to win!  In fact, he had three fights to win. It was hard to concentrate when Sakura looked at him and swayed her breasts provocatively. She looked like she was having fun getting them excited. ~xXx~ Kagura Sakura watched in near orgasmic ecstasy as Hayama Kazuya "accidentally" nearly destroyed Nagasawa Enji 's head! The idiot little bastard was quickly dragged away by his idiot relatives, leaving a messy bloodstain behind. She quickly looked at Kumada Shota. He looked pale and more than a little scared. She couldn't blame him. Hayama had totally destroyed the useless Clan Midoriya boy before heading to Nagasawa. Nagasawa Enji did some good blows, but nothing serious. Still, Hayama looked tired. Sakura moaned lovingly at the sight of all that blood. The violence was making her so horny!  She was so tempted to slide her hand down the front of her bikini bottom and stroke herself to ecstasy right there. Her family would have other things to say, though. She watched Hayama wrap his arms around his little sister Narumi and claim her lips with passion. She was sure that Narumi was extremely desperate about it. Her little sister really liked that idiot Nagasawa. Maybe Narumi really didn't exactly like him, but at least she liked his wealth. Oh well. Sakura giggled happily as Hayama squeezed her sister's ass. Narumi was a little more "straightforward" and certainly wouldn't want to do such a scene in public. She shouldn't have been surprised after what Hayama did when he claimed Itsuka. The next fight was the most important for her. That will decide who she would end up marrying. Truth be told, she hoped Hayama would win the fight. He was prettier and better with a wand than little Kumada. Not only that, but he seemed to be the kind of person who loved to "have fun" without restrictions. The groping of her sisters' asses practically proved it. Sakura bit her lower lip in anticipation. According to the contracts they all signed, whoever claimed them would "appropriate" their property immediately. Hayama would already be taking two of the three Kumada sisters home tonight. She had been looking forward to joining them tonight. Her pussy was already completely wet just thinking about it!  Of course, women in the wizarding world had as many rights as men, and yes, women could do great things and get great jobs. However, in Pureblood families, women were controlled by their husbands, so what he said was always law. If Hayama wanted the three sisters to commit wicked acts on each other, they would have no choice but to do so. Sakura was drenched with just the thought. She really didn't have any lewd thoughts about her sisters, but the idea of being forced to perform sex acts turned her on! When the final battle broke out, she moaned as a fierce spell cast by Hayama hit her target, sending Kumada flying into the cage. The crowd of spectators groaned with what must have been a painful impact!  The Kagura, Kumada, Midoriya and Nagasawa Clans were present, as well as a few other scattered people. Sakura quickly realized that no one was paying attention to her. She quickly reached between her legs and rubbed her aching clit!  She moaned softly, feeling arousal dampening the underside of her clothes. She pulled her hand away before being caught. She looked up just in time to see Hayama block an angry black curse hurled at her. The explosion and reaction against her magic shield made him skid a few meters backwards, his face scratched from the detonation! Sakura looked around again. Nobody was looking. Again her hand went to her crotch. This time she was a little bolder and quickly slipped her hand inside. Sakura let out a shuddering breath as her finger stroked her wet slit and stroked her throbbing clit. She needed to come so much now! The battle was much closer than the previous two. Hayama was obviously tired of his previous fights. Even so, he was still much better than Kumada. Kumada was just smarter than the other two idiots who came before him. He dodged instead of trying to magically block a powerful curse. Instead of casting a powerful curse, he cast three quick spells to try to catch his opponent off guard. Personally, Sakura thought Kumada was fighting the right way. Kumada Shota just wasn't good enough against Hayama Kazuya. The crowd was applauding and booing equally as the curses were released. She didn't care about that. She was too busy fucking herself with her fingers!  She did her best not to make it obvious, but at some point, she really didn't care anymore. Suddenly, the crowd moaned and screamed as a loud bang was heard. She quickly looked up to see Kumada hit the cage wall and collapse to the ground. Clearly, he was seriously injured. Blood spurted from his neck when an imp appeared and took him for medical treatment!  The sight of blood gushing made her so close to orgasm that she couldn't take it anymore! Hayama Kazuya has proven his worth!  Now she had to prove that she would serve him faithfully... starting with the bedroom!  Unfortunately, there wasn't a room in sight. But that wouldn't stop her! Now that she, Kagura Sakura, was officially betrothed to her, she could enter the arena. She pulled her wet fingers from her pussy and ran after Hayama Kazuya as fast as her high-heeled feet could carry her!  He was breathing hard and seemed to have used up the last of his energy. That was fine in her book. She was more than happy to carry the load of pleasure! "What..." Kazuya muttered and curiously watched as a beautiful black haired woman hit her belly. Running out of energy, her legs collapsed and he fell backwards. Sakura, her pussy overflowing, looked at Kazuya. He was tall and muscular, with dark skin, dark gray hair and golden eyes, just as she liked him!  He also had a set of six really nice segments. She considers herself lucky because all the men who fought had only long shorts. Unable to help herself, she quickly ripped his shorts off, pulling him down until a massive hard-on popped up! Sakura gasped in satisfaction as the large meaty stick quickly sprang up, pointing upwards. She ran her palm over it and examined it. This was really big. Very large!  At least ten or eleven inches... maybe even more!  It was so thick she couldn't even get her hand around it. It was crisscrossed by large veins that would surely heighten her pleasure. She moaned at the sight. Kazuya didn't really even try to stop her when she lowered her head and put the tip in her mouth. She heard his loud moan. She also heard the furious screams of the spectators who were banging on the cage wall telling her to stop. She really didn't care about them. All that mattered was this powerful son of a bitch she was drooling over! Kazuya moaned as sexy Sakura pulled his shorts down and started sucking his cock. He quickly looked around and laughed contemptuously at the very angry faces, especially the members of Clan Kagura. They could be mad all they wanted. The Kagura Sisters were his now, and he could do what he wanted with them. Now, however, he was very tired. He would just lie down and rest for a moment and let Sakura enjoy herself. Sakura's rosy, full lips smeared her cock with her saliva as she rocked up and down, taking more and more of his cock. Soon the fuck in her mouth was so loud all they could hear was GACK!  GACK!  GACK!  of a horny slut taking a big cock down her throat! Sakura could hear the crowd screaming and calling her a whore. The degrading words made her count even wetter!  She loved being degraded when it came to sex!  As far as insults go, she would make them pay another day. "Holy crap!" Kazuya grunted in satisfaction, feeling the dark haired beauty known as Kagura Sakura drooling over her cock at high speed. Her back arched a little as she reached down and grabbed his balls!  She squeezed them lightly, making sure not to hurt them. Slowly she started massaging with her thumb while she fucked his cock with her mouth!  The massage got better and better as the minutes passed. Kagura Sakura really learned very well. Obviously, she paid attention to his sounds and found out what he liked and what she didn't like. He would definitely make a point of rewarding the smart girl. Kazuya ran his fingers through her hair as Sakura added her tongue to the mix. The wonderful pleasure he was feeling was amplified when her beautiful pink tongue tickled the underside of his head. In fact, her tongue tickled every inch of him!  When her cock descended his throat, her tongue would remain in contact with the crest of his mighty beast!  Kagura Sakura was already a pro, and he didn't even have to fuck himself into oblivion! "Ohhhh shit! Here comes you bitch!" Kazuya moaned happily, pulling Sakura's hair lightly and quickly arching her back. Sakura ripped his cock out of her mouth just in time to see a cum geyser fly high in the air!  "Wow!" Sakura said happily, marveling at the spectacle!  Her hand continued to caress the insanely large piece of meat. She wasn't done yet. Not by a long shot!  Bending down, she grabbed her bikini bottom and ripped it off!  She laughed at the names and curses thrown her way by members of her family. She didn't give a damn about them. Sakura threw a leg over him and straddled his cock. She threw her head back and moaned as her pussy lips parted, leaving his plump cock and smearing her juices over it. She needed to make sure he was okay and wet for their union!  She was a good wife!  Her wide hips began to move slowly at first, sawing back and forth and spreading her essence over the thick phallus. Sakura moaned as her future husband gripped her hips tightly. She smiled. He liked what she was doing!  Moving her hips faster, she was rewarded with a moan and a pair of hands sliding down her toned belly and sliding under the hem of her bikini! Kazuya squeezed Sakura's perky breasts under the thin fabric of her bikini. Her breasts were more than a handful. If he had to guess, he'd say they were a little C-cup. Her thumbs brushed her erect nipples. They were hard and as perky as the rest of her full breasts!  Sakura's shuddering breath told him that she liked having her breasts playing. More specifically, she loved having her nipples touched. He could tell they were very sensitive. Her juices started flowing even more as he started stroking the hardened lumps!  His groin and cock were coated with her arousal. The incredible smell she gave off excited him!  He wanted her very much. Knowing what he was thinking, Sakura reached underneath her and grabbed her thick cock. Holding him by the base, she rubbed the tip across the slick cleft of her femininity, covering the head of his cock with the juice of her pussy. Feeling naughty, she used his cock to slap her pussy a few times, laughing happily when he moaned and lifted his hips. Not wanting to wait any longer, she lined it up and slowly sank into the gigantic hunk of meat. "Ohhhhh fuck yes!" Kazuya was able to mutter in pleasure when the sexy brunette sank on top of him. Her smooth walls snugly hugged his cock as inch after inch penetrated her wet pussy. After what seemed like an eternity, she sank down and rested in his lap. "You filthy bitch!" Sakura heard her Aunt Mikasa scream. She laughed contemptuously at the idiot bitch. That woman was the biggest bitch in her family!  Your aunt Mikasa couldn't even be faithful to save her own life!  His constant orgy and gangbang parties with various fat and ugly men were well known throughout the upper tier of society. Once she was well and stretched out, she quickly began jumping over the victorious sorcerer. "Fuck yeah! Ohhhh fuck!" Sakura cursed as her jump intensified!  She felt like a slut as she fucked a man right in front of so many spectators!  Their curses and screams mixed with the moans of the old perverts who wanted to be in Clan Hayama's bastard's shoes were like music to her ears. The sounds of wet flesh slapping together and her perverse vagina noise just added to the ambiance of it all!  She felt her betrothed grab her bikini top. She arched her back and presented her fantastic breasts to him. With a violent tug, he ripped the thin fabric from her. "EEEEEP!" Sakura screamed in pain as the material was ripped from her body. Her breasts shook hard from the rough treatment. With nothing left to sustain them, they leapt along with her as she mounted the blessed mage!  Hands came up and squeezed the bouncy sacks of flesh hard, making her moan and her pussy clench. "You like that huh?" Kazuya muttered happily in a playful tone in her voice. He reached out and slapped Sakura's chest. Her eyes widened as her pussy started milking his cock!  He slapped her breasts, one after the other! "Again! Again, motherfucker!" Sakura quickly said out loud. Her man would know how to treat her properly. Like a naughty bitch!  She moaned when he abused her perfect breasts. Her body started to shake as a fantastic orgasm made itself known!  Her trembling only spurred him on. He reached out and grabbed her nipples. He adjusted them gently before pulling them hard! "FUCK! THAT FUCK DOES!" Sakura screamed as she came in her lap!  He reached out and wrapped a large hand around her delicate throat. Kazuya instantly knew that he needed to immediately show Kagura Sakura who was the master and who was the deer. If he gave her an inch, she would likely become the same lunatic he knew she was. She had adored Aizawa because he wouldn't take shit from her, unlike her pathetic and disappointing husband. Kazuya had to be the same way. She was his, and he would treat her that way. Closing his hand, he slowly began to choke Sakura. Sakura's eyes nearly bulged when she was smothered. She gripped her forearms in panic as her pussy massaged her cock. Finally, he released her and she took a deep, repeated breath!  Her rough hand gripped her pert ass, and he lifted her. She wrapped her arms around his neck to keep from falling. Squeezing tightly to her ass, he pushed her against the metal cage and started pushing as hard as she could! "You disgusting bitch!" "You disgusting bitch!" Sakura heard this and many other insults from her family. Hayama Kazuya was having sex with her right in front of them!  They were only a few meters away, on the other side of the cage!  She moaned like a whore just thinking about it! Kazuya was pounding his hips at the sweet and sexy psychopath Sakura. Her pussy was so tight he knew it could last a lot longer. He looked up to see the angry faces of Clan Kagura members. He contemptuously laughed at them. If they really knew the wicked things he was going to do to their daughters. He buried his face in Sakura's sweaty neck. He licked and nipped at her soft flesh, making her pussy grip him tighter. Kazuya smiled happily. It really seemed like Sakura liked rough things, but she also liked certain things to be kind and loving. In the coming weeks and months, he would make sure to discover all of her preferences. He squeezed her neck again. Sakura was seeing stars while she was being smothered almost unconsciously!  Her cunt was going crazy!  She was spasming and cumming all over the piercing cock!  Her love juices were pouring out of her like never before!  Then, out of nowhere, he spun her around and fucked her from behind as she got up!  He grabbed her under her thighs and lifted her into the air!  Her legs were being held apart, and he maneuvered to fuck her right in front of her family. She screamed as his forearm-sized cock slammed into her sloppy cunt!  Her legs were spread, giving all her horrible family a perfect view of her wild heat!  Aunt Mikasa as always, being the broken and used cunt that she was, slapped her open palms against the cage and called her a pathetic bitch!  She would teach the damn bitch a lesson later. Kazuya felt Sakura tighten his cock and directed the girl directly towards the bitch mother of her future-not-so-future godfather and surrogate father!  He chuckled as Sakura spasmed violently and released a torrent of feminine cum, splashing Mikasa right in the face with a spray of vagina juice! "EEEEEEEK!" Mikasa, the Broken and Used Bitch, quickly screamed as her face and chest and every other part of her body were bathed in Sakura's liquid! Mikasa quickly tried to run away, but the male family members approached, hoping to get a good look at Sakura's lovely body. What they really got was a thick, full male ejaculation when Kazuya quickly pulled out his cock and dumped his healthy load of cum on their depraved faces!  It would teach them to look at their future wife in such a depraved way!  He placed Sakura on the ground, her body still shaking. At that moment the doorbell rang. "And the winner is…. HAAAYYYAAAMMAAAA KAAAZUUUUUUUUUYAAAAAA" Kazuya smiled happily and quickly raised his arm victoriously!  He quickly looked at her wonderful and incredibly beautiful prizes. He shook his head. It was really worth the effort. ~xXx~ Hayama Kazuya took control of the three Kagura sisters the moment they won the cage fights. The victory celebration was one that Kazuya would never forget. The members of Clan Kagura acted angrily, but he suspected they enjoyed the show as much as he enjoyed putting it into practice. Kazuya knew the Kaguras were depraved pieces of shit. After claiming the girls, Kazuya led them to the Portal Set and took them to the house where he was staying. It was a small house, but it was a clean and welcoming house. It would only be temporary. Luckily, he hooked you up to the Portal Network a few weeks ago. As soon as the girls showed up, as he suspected, they made fun of the little place. He would be really surprised if they didn't. Sakura hissed contemptuously. "Wow! Nice piece of shit you have here, huh Kazuya!" Sakura quickly said, looking happily around. "Who did you kill to get that piece of shit?" "Hey! The former owners were more than happy to hand me the deed to their house." Kazuya said randomly with a smirk playing on his lips. "This place is nice and cozy. Besides, it's just temporary." Kazuya replied happily. "There are only two bedrooms, though." Sakura quickly scoffed and sealed herself beside Kazuya. "You and I just need one, Daddy." Sakura said, licking the side of his face. Kazuya could see that she was still incredibly turned on. He would make her scream soon. He turned to the other two girls. They seemed quite hesitant about their situation. He knew why. He could claim them physically at any time, and in any way he wished. They belonged to him from now on. He could decide everything about their lives from now on. Having grown up with the Kaguras, he was sure they were definitely given very strict orders about what to do, how to act and who to talk to. They probably never had an ounce of freedom. For someone like Kazuya, this was a very sad thing. Kazuya valued his freedom more than anything in the world. Growing up with the Aminaka probably wasn't much better than growing up with a family, hell even growing up with the Kagura would be better than growing up with the Aminaka. Kazuya quickly decided that he could wait for the other two girls. He didn't need to order them around, and they would eventually come to him, and he would claim them appropriately now. In the meantime, he had the cruel bitch Kagura Sakura to constantly fuck. He was pretty sure he was going to get all the sex he could need. Judging by the patches of arousal on her bikini bottom, he'd probably be having some of that sex very, very soon!  That brought something else to mind. All three girls were still in their bikinis. Kazuya cleared his throat and told them. "Girls, you can take your things to the bedroom and wear whatever you like. Sakura will share my room. Itsuka, you and Narumi can have the other room. After you girls put on something a little more substantial, come back here. We have some things to talk about." The girls quickly nodded and carried their bags to their rooms. Kazuya followed Sakura. He barely closed the door before a completely naked witch leapt at him and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. His tongues struggled for a few minutes as Sakura rubbed her wet pussy against his pants-clad crotch. She moaned and bit her bottom lip a little hard. "Oww!" Kazuya walked away, looking at the smiling witch. He threw her onto his lap and slapped her big ass several times with full force. Luckily, he had silencing spells woven into his door and walls. "AHHHHHHH! STOP!" Sakura cried. *WHACK!* *WHACK!* *WHACK!* Kazuya could feel Sakura's pussy dripping into her pants. He reached down and pinched her clit hard. "AHHHHHHHHHH!" Sakura quickly screamed, coming in her hand. The more pain she got, the more she came. Kazuya twisted and pulled on her clit until Sakura started squirting!  He lifted her to her feet. "Not anymore until I say. Do you understand me?" Kazuya quickly asked and made it clear that he was in charge. Sakura stood there, her eyes trembling as she held her knees together and squeezed her pussy with both hands as her fluids sloshed through her fingers and splashed onto the floor. "Yes sir!" Sakura squealed happily, staggering into the bathroom as she squirted into her hand. She left a trail of her cum behind. ~xXx~ In the other room, Kagura Itsuka and Kagura Narumi were changing clothes and casually talking to each other. Itsuka quickly saw the worried look on her younger sister, Narumi's face was frowning. It probably matched the look she had on her face. "What is worrying you?" Itsuka curiously asked her sister. Narumi quickly turned her big, beautiful eyes to Itsuka and bit her lower lip. "What if he can't give us the future we want or deserve? I mean, this house isn't really terrible. It's clean, and comforting, and simple, but this house is so small! I really don't see the problem for a couple of everyday people who deal with it, but you know sister, this is not for people like us. What if this is all there is to our lives from now on?" Narumi quickly asked, getting into a frenzy. Itsuka let out a sigh and quickly soothed her sister with a hug. "I'm sure he has a plan. He lives in this little house, but somehow he was able to get nine hundred thousand gold coins for us to claim, maybe equal to one of those billionaires in the normal world who like to live a simple life. , I can think of a few sorcerers who would like to do this with their lives." Itsuka said with a small smile. “At the very least, it shows he knows the least about giving the 'wrong' impression to others. Maybe he needs our help. way unnecessary." Narumi quickly blushed at the praise coming from her sister. She calmed down and took a deep breath. There was no need to worry yet. Itsuka was right. Somehow he managed to get nine hundred thousand gold coins to join the fight. She wasn't completely convinced that everything would be okay, but at least she wouldn't panic about it. She was too wrapped up in her own fears to realize that her sister Itsuka also had her own fears. Itsuka, our Lady of Frozen Lake to her lovely and beautiful sisters, was really worried. She wasn't worried about living in poverty or anything along those lines. A magical and cunning person, in fact, a cunning person in general, she could always live a decent lifestyle if she knew what she was doing. No, she was worried about Hayama Kazuya himself. What did he plan for her?  She knew what he had planned for Sakura. Sakura seemed to share her enthusiasm. For her, however, she didn't know. Would he use her to bear his children?  Maybe a fuck toy?  Possibly both?  She had no idea. She really didn't object to the idea of being with him physically. Hayama Kazuya was handsome and powerful, magic flowed through his veins like the streams of a wild raging river, and women in general, especially magical women, were attracted to and had tendencies to seek out mates who were magically powerful. She knew she belonged to Hayama Kazuya now, so it would be Hayama Kazuya between her legs or no one else. She sure as hell didn't want to spend the rest of her life starving for physical pleasure. She also didn't want to be used just for her looks and body. Between them and her sisters, she knew she was magically more powerful than her sisters, so it would be a logical answer who Hayama Kazuya would spend more time with if she had the desire to expand Clan Hayama to the next generation. She wanted a life. She had hopes and dreams like everyone else. She took a deep breath and calmed down. There was no need to exaggerate yet. She would hear him first. ~xXx~ A few moments later, they were all dressed and sitting together in the living room. Narumi and Itsuka were sitting next to each other, and Sakura was sitting pressed against her new master, grabbing her hand to place it on her bare thigh. She chose to wear just a T-shirt and panties. He said that the choice of wardrobe was hers and that she should be comfortable. They spent the next hour talking and discussing some issues. Kazuya immediately denied Itsuka's concern, saying that she could live her life however she wanted, as long as it wasn't against her rules. He also said she could choose when to get into her bed. It made Itsuka feel a lot better actually. She quickly tried to alleviate Narumi's worry by asking about her future plans to make money. She suggested that since he was good with a wand that maybe he should become the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Hayama Kazuya scoffed at this idea. He sure as hell didn't want to waste his days working like an idiot to teach ungrateful bastards two-faced bastards. He's done this before and see where it got him!  A lot of ungrateful bastards who tried to get rid of their Supreme Commander of the Unified Forces, it was a shame that all the men and women had to die after they tried to betray you. Well, that led Hayama Kazuya to a house with three sexy girls who were hers to fuck whenever she wanted...so maybe that wasn't the best example to use. Still, he was too lazy to get a damn job. He had his own plan to get extremely rich, he would swim in a pool full of gold coins just like Uncle Scrooge. It was decided that Itsuka and Narumi would share a room until such time as they wanted to share his. He would be sharing his bed with Sakura. ~xXx~ Kazuya was lying in bed thinking about ways to earn money. This little place was good for him, but now he had three women to support, if it was just one he was pretty sure he could handle it, well as long as she wasn't a spoiled little preppy with her nose up and her ass pointed. to the moon and was born in a cradle of gold. All three Kagura Sisters were genuinely used to a certain kind of life. Itsuka probably wouldn't mind too much, and Sakura really wouldn't care either, all that mattered to the bitch was violence and sex. No, it was Narumi who cared more about luxury and extravagance. Even in her original world, in her time, she led a rich and extravagant lifestyle. He could see she wasn't enjoying living in this little house. Well, he would give her everything she wanted. He just had to find a way. The greatest asset he possessed was her knowledge. Unfortunately, he couldn't trust him completely. This wasn't her world, so things could be different. Some companies like Microsoft and Apple may never exist or may close their doors. The only thing that didn't need to change was the need for natural resources. He knew where tons of barrels of oil were just waiting to be pumped. He quickly worked out a plan in his head. He was kind of stiff since he was getting distracted. The beautiful Kagura Sakura was rolling her wide hips in her lap. She leaned in and licked her lips. He allowed her to capture them in a kiss as she moved her hips up and down faster. He grabbed the flesh of her ass and squeezed hard, earning a moan of approval. He moaned as her pussy contracted over him. He would never get tired of fucking this crazy bitch. ~xXx~ One year later… Hayama Kazuya calmly placed the folder on the beautiful mahogany desk in her new office. Things went really well in the last half of the year. He smiled just thinking of her ingenuity and brilliance. After coming up with his wonderful and magnificent plan, the following week he began to make it a reality. His choice to enter the oil business was definitely the right one. He remembered the oil shortage in the 1970s, thanks to his steaming MILF history teacher from his high school days and the constant "reinforcement classes" he took from her, he would end up making a fortune. First, he really needed all the machinery to be able to pump the oil. He took what money he had, and for the most part, he stole it from some less-than-innocent criminals and bought a small, bankrupt oil drilling company. He had to spend some more money to turn it into an offshore drilling company. There was a ton of government bureaucracy to go through, but with his wand and some acceptance spells, he got through it fast enough that he didn't even notice the time passing. He went through all the equipment he owned and enchanted everything he could. The bits would stay sharp and not break, the drill shafts would not bend or break and lots of other things to reinforce and ensure they would work. Hayama Kazuya has given himself every opportunity for his inevitable success. Narumi and Itsuka hadn't slept with him yet. He knew Narumi was waiting to see if he could deserve her by giving her the lifestyle she so craved. Itsuka was probably sympathizing with her sister and standing by her side, she should have feared that if she gave herself up to him, her sister would feel pressured to come in with her. Kazuya shook his head. He wouldn't have to wait long to try them both. His company hit the oil fields of the deep and dangerous North Sea with the greatest possible human force. New oil wells were drilled every week. Its machinery would tear through the rocky earth faster than any of its competitors. At the time, it was producing hundreds of thousands of barrels a day. Soon, he would be in the millions. His bank account was literally exploding. He really had so much money he didn't know what to do with it!  The only thing he was sure of was that he needed a new home. He quickly remembered what Nagasawa mansion was like. He knew it was Narumi who designed it. Nagasawa Enji wasn't exactly an artistic guy, he was a mentally handicapped guy, but not an artistic guy. So Kazuya created a new design based on that. He paid Bank twice what they would normally charge to do it in a month instead of a year. Needless to say, within a month, he had his new mansion. He paid another magic company to fill it with only the finest and most expensive furniture. Now, he just had to surprise his little princess with the nose up, who would soon become his ~xXx~ The snob and snub Kagura Narumi huffed in annoyance as she was taken blindfolded to some place unknown by her sisters. She was already quite annoyed by her lack of standing in society lately, and to her chagrin, she was annoyed by the absence of her future husband. If he's not making money, at least he should be crawling at my feet!  Narumi thought furiously. That's when the sale was withdrawn. Her eyes widened in wonder. "Surprise!" Sakura and Itsuka yelled simultaneously. "How do you like your new home?" Narumi quickly heard a sexy voice, which sounded like a whisper of the devil in her ears, from her man coming from behind her. She quickly turned quickly and looked at him. Hayama Kazuya smiled while Narumi's eyes sparkled intensely. "It is ours?!" Narumi quickly said and gasped in excitement. Seeing him nod, she jumped into his arms and hugged him tight. She kissed his cheek before her sisters giggled and pulled her away. They all ran out to see the new mansion. Narumi assimilated everything. The new mansion was huge!  Much bigger than any she's ever seen. It had its own private lake with crystal clear water. The cream colored stone was perfect with the gold finish in her opinion. It was everything she ever wanted!  Dela Kazuya quickly continued the tour. He showed her a room where the money for her and her sisters' expenses was, and how they handled the money was entirely up to them to decide. Her vagina almost turned creamy when she saw the piles of gold coins. There must have been tens of millions of gold coins there! Then came the bedrooms. Here was when Hayama Kazuya put his foot down. "Each of you girls will have your own room to do as you please, but from now on, all three of you will be sharing a room with me. Are we understood?" Kazuya asked firmly. All three sisters quickly agreed, there wasn't much reason not to really take the next step in their relationship, Sakura didn't really care about it, and she just wanted to have sex or torture some random cemimose, Itsuka didn't care about that either, she realized that Narumi looked extremely gratifying with all this and she really wanted to be loved from dusk to dawn as her degenerate sister and Narumi was living in the high clouds of the world, Kazuya deserved her in his bed. Kazuya calmly opened the double doors to the master bedroom, the room in which Narumi and her sisters would sleep from now on. The room was just beautiful, and the bed was huge! Narumi was quickly absorbing everything when Itsuka asked Kazuya something. "What's on all the doors?" "We each have our own bathrooms with a walk-in closet." Kazuya said proudly. "A little privacy will be nice from time to time, and I'm not against having a few sessions in the bathroom, though I think we'd end up getting in the way of each other in this case." "Walk-in closet?" Narumi quickly asked. He nodded and took her hand. He led her to a door with "Narumi" written in elegant cursive script. It was engraved in solid gold. He opened the door and showed her her dream private bathroom. It was huge and made mostly of white marble. It had a separate shower, but the tub looked more like a pool with big taps in several different spots. It helped that it was also made of solid gold. Her cunt was starting to tingle. She was stunned when Kazuya put a hand on her back and led her to the closet that was through another door. She casually watched, marveling as her eyes roamed over row upon row of expensive, fancy clothes. She squealed and flipped through them, loving each piece. She heard him clear his throat, and she reluctantly left her exploration to look at Kazuya. He casually opened a secret compartment that was filled with jewelry. Gold, platinum, rubies, diamonds, there was everything!  She was breathing heavily as her hand gently caressed the rows of handcrafted jewelry made by the Dwarves. "Why don't you try some for me?" Kazuya asked curiously, looking at Narumi. Narumi squeezed her hips. She blushed and nodded. That's when he did something to make her blush even more. He reached out and unzipped her dress. Without stopping him, her dress fell away and pooled on her delicate little feet. She had renounced her underwear, particularly since she really didn't like wearing any. So now, she was naked in only her black high-heeled shoes. He reached out and grabbed a diamond bracelet. He placed it gently on her slender wrist. She chose some elegant rings and put them on. He told her to pull her hair back and put diamond earrings in her pierced ears. He told her to keep her hair up. "Now the resistance piece." Kazuya said, softly kissing the side of her slender neck. He wrapped a diamond necklace that looked more like a choker on her. Narumi blushed furiously at the implications. He had just claimed her. He caught her by the hips and maneuvered her so that she was standing in front of a fancy full-length mirror. She looked at their reflection. Her naked body was on full display. Her hands were exploring her hips and sides, and her pussy dampened at the sight of what must be a million gold coins in jewelry hanging from her seventeen-year-old body. She gasped as his fingers brushed her blond pubic hair. While her sisters liked to be clean-shaven, Narumi liked to have some hair in her mound, while she kept her lips nice and soft. At the moment, she thought her choice was a good one. She closed her eyes and savored the feel of his fingers running through her pubic hair. Narumi bit her lip when one of her hands cupped her breast and pulled her nipple. A shuddering sigh escaped her lovely lips as he began to use his nails to gently scratch the mound hidden under her pubis. She could smell his excitement. "Ladies, to bed." Kazuya causally ordered the three sisters and lifted her like a bride, making her squeak in the process. Narumi quickly took one more look at the jewelry compartment and rows of elegant clothes before the door closed behind them. "You two girls are stripped of clothes and are going to stand in front of the bed. I want you to watch as I claim your little sister. Itsuka, you better not even think about covering up as you will be next." Narumi blushed as she was gently placed on the bed, the top of her head facing the foot of the bed. Her sisters would be right behind her head once they got their clothes off. "Don't move, Narumi." Kazuya whispered audibly. Of course she followed his orders. Narumi stood there rubbing his thighs while he ordered his sisters to strip him naked. She heard a loud smack as Sakura was spanked for groping his cock when she wasn't ordered to. It looked like her degenerate sister liked it. Narumi scoffed internally. And of course she liked it. Her heart was constantly hammering in her chest. She was about to be claimed by her man in front of her sisters!  It was incredibly inappropriate, but there was nothing she could do about it. It belonged to Hayama Kazuya. At least he proved to be a suitable provider. She could forgive him for his insidious perversions. She felt the mattress shift and, a second later, he settled between her smooth, creamy legs. He lifted her foot and removed her heel. Before letting him go, he nipped at her foot arch making her pussy vibrate. He moved to the other foot. His heel was played with the other, and with the exception of her jewelry, she was completely naked. Her cheeks turned pink as he placed his hands on her knees and pushed her legs up. Her knees went higher and higher until they rested on either side of her head. She looked up to see her sisters looking at her, as red in the face as she was. Sakura was petting her kitten while Itsuka was on her back straight with her arms behind her back. Her eyes never left the mating pair. Her attention was pulled back to Kazuya as he rubbed his massive cock up and down her slit. She held back a moan as he lubed her cock into her wet pussy. Her hips swayed at the feel of him massaging her slit with his veiny cock. "Mmmm, you have such a beautiful pussy, isn't it Narumi." Kazuya muttered happily, slapping her pussy with his cock. The slap along with the sound of wet bark as he let go made her incredibly embarrassed. Still, she kept her legs open for him. "Yes." Narumi replied, his eyes fluttering. "Yes what?" Kazuya asked curiously and raised an eyebrow. "Yes sir." Narumi corrected himself as his hand traveled all over the top half of her. He removed her cock and groped her ass. She looked at her sisters. They were looking at her cunt!  It was not easy to avoid him, in her defense. Her cunt was stuck in the air. She watched as he put his face against her bare crotch. He inhaled deeply and teased her clit with the tip of his nose. "I love your scent, Narumi." Kazuya moaned. "I wonder if it tastes so good?" Narumi didn't have a chance to respond as he dragged his tongue along the length of her slit. His tongue started up her ass and licked her with so much pressure that when he slid over her pussy, it popped right between her lips and entered her!  Her Kazuya Her Kazuya wasn't just tasting her wetness, he was tasting her insides. Her face was beet red as he tongue-fucked her. She panted like a whore as he licked her insides and helplessly she casually and curiously looked to her sisters for support. Sakura was still masturbating on her deflowering, and Itsuka was breathing heavily, looking like she was going to pass out. Her hips twitched as he licked something inside her. It went really well. Her mouth landed on her hardened clit, and she whimpered and writhed as he sucked on the sensitive nub of flesh. Her pussy was already throbbing, ready to explode. Kazuya released him and snuggled against her crotch. It was time. "You girls watch. Watch as it slides into your little sister's virgin cunt." Kazuya said out loud. Watching them did, as his monstrous cock parted her folds. Narumi gasped in pain and pleasure as she was stretched beyond anything she had ever felt. Her cock was too big!  It looked like this would split her in two. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he hit rock bottom. He gave her a few minutes to stretch properly before pulling and sliding back inside. Narumi, the real Princess Thoroughbred of the Kagura family was whimpering like a pathetic whore as he fucked her nonstop. Her sisters watched as Narumi's toes curled, and she yelled at him to go faster. "Are you enjoying this big cock, Narumi? Do you love getting fucked?" Kazuya casually teased, pricking her folds so hard her wet balls were slapping her ass repeatedly. Narumi tried to answer, but only a moan came out. "So… are we going?" Kazuya said, pinching her clit between his slick fingers with arousal. Narumi gasped a barely audible yes over her husky fuck. The wet sounds of her vagina being violated for the first time reverberate off the richly decorated walls. "Jesus, fuck, Christ, Narumi." Kazuya moaned happily. "Your pussy looks like heaven!" Kazuya moaned, pounding her pussy into oblivion. Narumi instantly blushed furiously at the dirty words that came out of Kazuya's mouth. "It's so fucking tight!" Kazuya sighed, still pushing into the tiny teenage blonde. Narumi gasped when Kazuya kissed her toes and squirmed when her tongue tickled them. Her feet have always been tickled. She cried out as a huge orgasm made her pussy contract on his cock. "Already coming, love?" Kazuya spoke in a joking tone. "I think we can do better than that little one." Kazuya muttered happily and laughed, turning her around until she was on her stomach. His Kazuya roughly grabbed her hips and lifted her ass in the air. Narumi cried out as his palm touched her smooth cheeks in a smack. His ass curled when Kazuya said, "Keep your ass like that." Narumi was now face to face with his two sisters. She blushed deeply when they made eye contact. She wanted to look away, but it didn't really matter. They had already seen her getting fucked by the wild bastard who owned them. She felt her cheeks spread and she hid her face as his cock slid back into her musky depths. Her ass cheeks were being applauded as he fucked her like there was no tomorrow. Her cheeks were opened once more. She gasped and looked over her shoulder wildly when she felt him rub her virgin ass with his finger. "You have such a cute idiot, Narumi. It's so tight and pale." Her puckered hole puckered when Kazuya nudged her. "I'll take this soon, honey. But not today." Narumi let out a shuddering sigh of relief, as she knew she wouldn't be disturbed that day. Unfortunately, that was the last thing she thought when a finger slid right into her ass and the most pleasurable magic imaginable was channeled straight into her body. "FUCK! OH FUCK!" Narumi quickly cried out, her eyes wild and exhausted as every part of her body tingled with orgasmic pleasure. Her body resisted and she hid her face and gripped the sheets as her pussy milked his gigantic cock and squirted her cum all over him. She could hear the wet spray over his screams, but couldn't see his fluids splashing from his chiseled torso. ~xXx~ Itsuka watched mesmerized as her little sister Narumi squirted on top of the man who claimed them. Her orgasm was beautiful and crazy at the same time. Narumi's face was contorted with pleasure as her ass shook, and she dropped her hands from the sheets, hoping to get away from the wild beast fucking her. Her pale ass rippled with each thrust. Finally, when Kazuya was sated, her balls pulsed and Kazuya moaned happily as she seeded her younger sister. Narumi shook his head back and forth as he injected her with his potent semen. Once he was milked dry, he slapped her ass and dropped her on the bed. He got out of bed and stretched. Her cock was still hard and straight-stemmed, protruding proudly and unashamedly. It was stained with a mixture of his sperm and Narumi. She looked at her older sister Sakura. "Sakura, clean me up." Kazuya ordered. Sakura quickly ran and instantly dropped to her knees. She didn't hesitate to take his cock down her throat and clean it of her own sister's juices. Kazuya sighed in satisfaction upon receiving a sloppy blowjob. "Itsuka, here." Kazuya ordered. Itsuka was quickly beside her. Kazuya raised an eyebrow and nodded down. She casually looked down. She was covering her pussy with both hands. Blushing, she moved them. He saw the drops of arousal trickle down her inner thighs. Kazuya slowly waved her closer. Once she was right beside him, he reached out and rubbed her kitten. He held up his fingers for her to see. They were slick with excitement. He opened his fingers, and Itsuka saw the sticky excitement in her fingers remain connected with a thin line of her leak. Itsuka instantly blushed. She watched as Kazuya licked her arousal from them. Her eyes fluttered and he moaned in pleasure. He looked right at her. She looked at her sister and back at him. She swallowed and knew she would be next. ~xXx~ Itsuka was suddenly awakened early in the morning by the trembling of her bed. It was then that she remembered that she wasn't in her old house. She was with her husband and living in their new home. She had to admit he performed far beyond her initial thoughts. At first she thought he would make them live in mediocrity at best and abject poverty at worst. He quickly dispelled those thoughts. Now she was living at a standard that was far higher than any she'd experienced before. The continual pushing of the bed actually kept her from going back to sleep. Looking to the left, she saw her sister Narumi sleeping happily. This was not surprising. Narumi could sleep during a war. Looking to the right made her cheeks heat up. Another sister of hers, Sakura, was riding her husband like there was no tomorrow. Clearly, the dark-haired beauty was trying to be quiet so as not to wake the others. She wasn't doing a very good job, though. His sighs and moans could be easily heard by her. Itsuka watched as Sakura rolled her hips violently against Kazuya's. Her husband was lying on his back with a goofy grin on his face. His stupid look was really understandable. What Sakura was doing must have been amazing to him. His eyes wandered from Sakura's thighs, past her slender stomach to her bouncy breasts. She had to admit that Sakura had the best set of breasts among the three sisters. To be fair, hers and Narumi's weren't far behind. Sakura was blessed not only with her and Narumi's joy, but also with a bigger size. The obscene sounds of his husky fuck kept her from falling asleep, so instead she just closed her eyes, albeit slightly, and listened. "That's it. Keep jumping on my cock, bitch." Kazuya whispered to Sakura. Sakura gasped and arched her back, pushing her breasts out. Itsuka watched as Kazuya slapped one of her breasts hard with one hand, then did the same with the other. Sakura started to tremble as her breasts were abused so severely. "Do you like this, bitch?" Itsuka heard Kazuya ask. "Yes, Daddy. Hurt your little girl." Sakura whimpered sensually. Itsuka saw Sakura's eyes nearly pop out of their sockets as Kazuya reached down and pinched her clit. Slowly, he began to pull until the small nub was stretched out. Sakura covered her mouth with her hand as she cried out in wonderful pain. Itsuka was embarrassed to admit that her cunt was starting to get a little wet. Although watching her sister get fucked didn't really do anything for her, she was ready for her husband to fulfill his marital duties. Still, it would be improper for her to interrupt them unless she was willing to participate. She didn't know if she was ready to perform total incest with her sister yet. For now, she just waited and watched as Narumi snored lightly on the other side. Sakura was having uncontrollable spasms as she screamed softly and fell on top of Kazuya, Itsuka could see the liquid running down Kazuya's thighs and wetting the bed. At first, she thought Sakura had peed herself, then she realized Sakura was squirting. She watched as Sakura's body occasionally twitched or trembled as she lay down on top of him. Suddenly, her hand reached out and grabbed Sakura by her juicy ass and pulled her up. She watched his huge cock slowly slip out of Sakura's wet, sloppy cunt as it was covered in white streaks. Itsuka quickly blushed when she realized it was Sakura's cunt cream that was smeared over her long, thick member. When she finally left, Kazuya grabbed it and stirred it a little. "Why don't you clean this up, Itsuka?" Itsuka really didn't know how he found out she was awake. She must have made a noise or something. But that didn't matter now. What happened was that he was basically ordering her to clean Sakura's sperm off his rock-hard cock. Being a properly trained thoroughbred wife, she knew she couldn't say no. Stepping out of the nice, comfortable, warm covers, she shivered as her body was exposed to the cool morning air. As she positioned herself, she could feel his eyes on her naked form. Kazuya refused to allow them to sleep with anything on. It was a rule that they had to sleep completely naked. Wearing sexy lingerie was encouraged, but not when it came to sleep. Narumi whimpered until Kazuya made an exception. The sexy blonde could wear her diamond jewelry to sleep if she wanted. Itsuka blushed as she crawled between Kazuya's legs, who happened to be right next to Sakura's contracted pussy and her wrinkled ass. Grabbing the base of his cock, she leaned in and licked the underside. Dragging her tongue from his balls to the underside of his head, she wiggled her tongue and tickled the underside of his tip. Hearing her moans spurred her on even more. Her tongue slathered her cock in her saliva, and Itsuka was forced to taste her sister's vagina on him. Sliding her head between her lips, she began to suck on him. Taking him deep, he moaned as her head shook faster and faster. Right after she started, she cleaned his dick of all her sister's sperm. Pulling her head from him, she moaned as he slid back to Sakura and pushed a few times only to pull it covered with her cream again. Sakura sat up and straddled her belly. Reaching back, she placed her hand on the back of Itsuka's head and forced it down onto her cock. Following her sister's pace, she nodded as she kept her tongue against the underside of his long cock. Sakura forced her head off her cock before sliding back and placing her wet, bare pussy against her face. Itsuka gasped as the juice from Sakura's cunt slipped through the wrong hole in her throat and started coughing. After a moment, the coughing fit subsided and she looked at her sister laughing. Seeing her wet pussy right there in front of her, she cried out. "You fucking bitch!" Itsuka swung his arm forward and punched Sakura's pussy right. Kazuya saw Sakura's eyes widen as Itsuka punched her groin. Sakura screamed in what he thought was just pain, but when she sneezed violently in her sister's face and chest, Kazuya knew there must have been some distorted pleasure that was felt. He wasn't exactly surprised. Sakura always had some screws loose. It wasn't a stretch of imagination that her sadistic streak was carried over into her sex life. Kazuya didn't say anything. He just stood there and smiled as he watched the two sisters work out their problems on their own. He was a really good husband. Itsuka gasped even more when Sakura squirted into her open mouth. Seeing the beautiful brunette trembling with pleasure pissed her off. What was the point of physically punishing someone if that person ended up liking it?  Testing her theory, Itsuka slapped Sakura's pussy hard. The wet sound of her hand connecting with Sakura's dripping pussy cracked across the room. Sakura's excited scream soon joined us. More of her juices squirted from her tight pussy and spread over Itsuka's swaying breasts. Reaching out, she gave Sakura's hard, wet clit the biggest nipple twister of her life. This was something sisters did to each other when they were younger, albeit only on each other's nipples. Grabbing Sakura's clit between his fingers, Itsuka pulled and twisted the small nub until Sakura screamed angrily. Looking over her shoulder, Sakura glared at her. Finally taking her revenge, Itsuka gave her a sweet, innocent smile in return. "Skank!" Sakura screamed and turned to attack Itsuka. Itsuka, knowing her sister very well, was ready for this. She blocked Sakura's attempt to slap her and grabbed her crazy sister by the hair. "Prostitute!" Itsuko yelled back as he pulled Sakura off Kazuya by her hair with all her strength. Things quickly escalated and soon they were rolling around in bed struggling to gain the upper hand. Kazuya giggled happily as he watched the two sisters rolling around in bed completely naked. They were such a sexy sight if you could ignore their insanity. His cock remained hard as he watched their bodies bounce and shake in such wonderful ways. Soon Sakura had put Itsuka's head in a headlock. Her head was trapped between Sakura's shapely thighs. "That's right! Suck my pussy you bitch!" Sakura screamed triumphantly as Itsuka struggled to get out. Kazuya could see that Sakura was actually rubbing her pussy against her sister's face. "Sakura, loosen your legs." Kazuya told her. Sakura moaned but did as he was told. Itsuka was about to get up when he stopped. "Since Sakura won her little fight, I think she deserves treatment. Lick her to the end, Itsuka." Sakura gasped excitedly as Itsuka was forced to put her head back between her sister's thighs. When Itsuka started to lick her, Sakura moaned. Seeing Itsuka's sexy ass swinging in the air turned him on like never before. He could see the wetness clinging to her inner lips that barely showed from her full, hairless outer lips, which were pressed so tightly together. Kazuya settled behind her and rubbed the tip of his huge cock between her moist lips. Looking over her shoulder wildly, Kazuya saw her face covered in Sakura's moisture as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Kazuya slapped her ass hard enough to make her sway. She screamed in pain and took the hint. She put her face back on Sakura's spread thighs and went back to licking her. Kazuya could hear the wet noise coming from her legs. Deciding it was time to claim the last sister, he slowly pushed into her bowels. Kazuya bit his lip as his eyes fluttered. Itsuka's cunt was amazing. It was so tight and wet that it was hard to just hit rock bottom. Finally, squeezing her hips tightly, her hips contacted his shapely ass. Looking at Sakura, his eyes were rolling in the back of her head as she had her hands on the back of Itsuka's head and rubbed her smooth pussy all over her face. Keeping his eyes on the beautiful sight, he held Itsuka by her slim waist and started to move. Itsuka moaned into her slut sister's sloppy cunt as her husband fucked her for the first time. He was so big he was stretching to the point of pain a little. Fortunately, she soon got used to the feeling and was really starting to like it. When he started to move, she grated on Sakura's clit as Kazuya's big fat cock was reaching all the wonderful spots inside her cunt. His tongue slid around Sakura's hard clit as her stupid sister rubbed against her mouth. She suddenly cried out when she felt Kazuya's thumb circling her virgin ass. Her huge cock was still pumping in and out of her, and when he pressed his thumb against the tight hole, she had a violent spasm and squeezed his invading cock. At this point, he was brutally fucking her as her thumb slid into her hole. She was screaming and drooling around Sakura's squirting cunt as she came all over her cock. Finally, he gripped her hips tightly and spurted her seed deep into her fertile womb. Over and over he filled her with his hot, sticky cum until she dried him. Breathing heavily, she didn't hear Kazuya tell Sakura to switch places with him. Now Sakura started licking her pussy clean while Kazuya stuffed his cream-covered cock into her mouth to suck. As she was getting double, Narumi finally let herself be known. Narumi sighed as she stretched her arms over her head, displaying her perfect breasts. When she got a look at what was going on, she snorted. They would not catch her performing such acts with another family member. It just wasn't appropriate for a little purebred princess like her. Unfortunately, Kazuya had other thoughts and she would soon find out. ~xXx~ Narumi sighed in contentment. She took her dainty little foot out of the bubble bath and used it to turn off the mouthpiece. Life was going surprisingly well for her. She had everything she could want. Well... not exactly. She wasn't yet the leading female socialite in the wizarding world, but that was something money couldn't buy. Obviously, you needed money even to become a low-level socialite, but to rise through the ranks, you needed more than that. This was something that took time and effort. Narumi heard a shriek and rolled his eyes. Degenerate and depraved her husband was probably fucking one of her sisters again. This man was absolutely insatiable when it came to physical pleasure. He claimed his own body night after night, regardless of the fact that he had just fucked Sakura and Itsuka. Narumi reached out and rubbed the soap bubbles on her pale ivory skin. She couldn't blame him for that. Narumi knew she was a bomb. Men always undressed her with their eyes. In fact, it was something she encouraged. It was just one more thing that would bring her closer to achieving her goal of becoming the next leading socialite. Of course, she would never allow those men to touch her. According to the Law of Purebloods, such an act could have her life taken. While it was unfair that men would cheat on anything they wanted and she couldn't, in the end, it didn't matter much to her. Her husband could satisfy her sexually and, if she wanted an extramarital affair, she could always choose a woman. Men tended to look the other way when their wives were having sex with another woman. However, her husband would probably demand a threesome if caught mouthing off in the honey pot. She snorted at the thought. Narumi lifted one of her smooth, silky legs out of the water and rubbed all over it with soap. She was surprised her husband wasn't here now. He liked to shower with her. Hell, he even liked watching her bathe. Although normally she didn't object to it, sometimes a girl just needed time to herself. In her case, she really needed some quiet time to conspire. At the moment, she needed to figure out how to get her husband to buy her that new bag that had just been launched in the Magic Fashion Capital of Paris. When she saw that pile of gold that would be her "spending money." She thought it would never end. Unfortunately, she had forgotten her excessive consumption habits and her love of luxury items. She had spent that money embarrassingly fast. In fact, she was embarrassed to admit that her money was gone. She should have better control over her compulsive urges. She just couldn't contain herself. Although her family always had money, she herself never had so much money to call her own and to do what she wanted. She knew she might have gone a little overboard. She really needed that bag. In her defense, it wasn't the bag itself that tickled her fancy. Every female socialite in the Land of the Rising Sun wanted that bag. If she made it when they couldn't, that would be another point in her favor in the eyes of the rich. Now she just needed to figure out a way to get it. ~xXx~ Kazuya was in her office reviewing some records. Knowing the future certainly came in handy when it came to investments, both in the Wizarding World and the Normal World. Unfortunately, he couldn't escape the terrible scourge of paperwork. His bank accounts were already overflowing with gold. He had just purchased a nearly worthless piece of land that some third-class thoroughbred family owned. It was very rocky and the soil was poor. They really thought they had tricked him. What Kazuya knew was that land could be turned into something usable. He couldn't grow it there, but he could change it just the right way so he could produce some rare ingredients for water potions. Not only that, but the land was already decently protected. That would certainly save you some gold with protection and security. Kazuya quickly pulled out another leather-bound ledger. Although he didn't mention how the girls could spend the gold, he kept an eye on the girls' spending. Itsuka was what he considered an average spender, just a few things here and there, the most expensive she spent was buying her place in the Complete Course of Healing Wizards at something around seven thousand five hundred gold coins. She bought some other expensive things, but nothing of really monumental "value". Sakura rarely spent gold on anything for her. It was really amazing. He guessed there just wasn't much she wanted besides his cock and the occasional bout of bloodshed. Narumi, on the other hand, made him laugh happily. This girl could spend like there's no tomorrow. If his math was correct, she was already very close to spending an entire year's allowance. Shaking his head, he opened his ledger. He asked how long it would be before she went to him for more gold. Just when he was thinking a knock on his office door made him casually get up. Opening the door, he found the sexy blonde standing there smiling at him. Laughing inwardly, he smiled back. 'Speaking of the devil,' he thought. Narumi was a demon, if he ever saw one. She could bring an ignorant man to ruin with a single smile. Fortunately, Kazuya was already well adapted when it came to dealing with the temptress seductress. "Hello my love." Narumi said sensually, throwing his arms around Kazuya's neck and kissing him with more passion than ever. She definitely wanted more money, Kazuya thought. Breaking the kiss, her hands slid down and cupped his shapely ass. "My little princess. What can I do for you?" Kazuya curiously asked, giving her sexy ass a gentle squeeze. Narumi smiled and rubbed his backside against his palms. "I was hoping you'd agree to buy me a cute little gift." Narumi said quickly, leaning down and kissing Kazuya's neck. Kazuya smiled. "Oh? And what's the occasion, tell me please?" Kazuya asked curiously. "Is it your birthday or maybe Christmas came early?" "Not." Narumi moaned into her neck. "It's just a symbol of your love and affection for me." Narumi said as her lips slid across his jaw and onto her lips once more. They sat there for a few minutes kissing passionately while he patted her perky ass. Finally breaking the kiss, she asked, "So are you going to do this for me, love?" Narumi batted her long eyelashes and gave him a very sexy look. "Hmm." Kazuya muttered audibly and casually tapped his finger to his lips as he thought about it. "I'm going to need more convincing. Wear something sexy tonight, and we can discuss this some more." "Clear." Narumi smiled lovingly, after one last kiss she left the room, her sexy ass swaying hypnotically. ~xXx~ Narumi smiled sweetly as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was immaculate, her makeup was correct and her complexion was flawless. Getting up, she made sure her lingerie wasn't wrinkled. She wanted to be perfect tonight. Sakura and Itsuka didn't normally go to bed for another hour or two, so she had plenty of time to work her magic on her husband. Stroking her hair, she walked out of her huge closet and into her bedroom. Her husband was already there waiting and wearing only a bathrobe. Smiling happily, she rocked her hips toward him. "How am I?" Narumi asked happily as she giggled, turning around and making her already short black nightgown flare and show her tiny panties. "Not bad, my little princess." Kazuya said, trying to hide her excitement. In fact, Narumi looked incredibly fantastic in it. "I can't wait to get this out of you." Narumi smiled sensually. "All in good time. First, why don't we take this away from you?" Narumi untied her robe sash and dropped it to the ground. Narumi's breath caught in her lungs at the sight of him. She really could never get used to the sight of his monstrous cock. When he was hard, he looked so obscene when he stuck out straight. She grabbed the base and gave it a few strokes. "Why don't we settle in?" Narumi asked in a sensual way. "Of course, but we should probably wait for the other girls to get here." Kazuya smiled. Narumi raised an eyebrow. "Another gi..." Narumi tried to speak and was interrupted when the door opened and her two sisters entered completely naked. Narumi quickly turned to Kazuya. "But I thought ... " "Your sisters and I have been spending our time in the bedroom together, sharing our affections with each other. It's time for you to join in, my little princess." Kazuya spoke quickly. It was clear to Narumi, he wasn't asking, he was ordering. "Girls, now get into position." Kazuya ordered. Narumi quickly saw a red-faced Itsuka climb onto the bed and roll onto her back. She placed a large rubber dildo in her pussy and gasped as he swayed around. Narumi knew it was a magical solace that slipped inside her and was also attached to her clitoris. When stimulated, the vibrator would direct that pleasure to her pussy and clit. Narumi watched as a happy Sakura crawled over to Itsuka and swung a leg over her and straddled her face. From her position, Itsuka's nose must have bumped Sakura's clit, because the crazy brunette occasionally spasmed. "Let me help you, Narumi." Kazuya spoke happily, leading her to Itsuka and lifting her. Narumi squeaked and looked at him desperately. "But that's not appropriate!" Narumi yelled as he straddled Itsuka's hips. "It's also not appropriate to spend gold like a Weasley who won the Nasty Land Dairy Grand Prize from the Galleon Draw, but I didn't complain." Kazuya retorted while not laughing. It got harder when Narumi blushed fiercely with embarrassment. He knew she must be embarrassed for spending so much gold. Her opinions on decorum were cut short when he pulled her panties aside and Itsuka's muffled sigh was heard as she slipped her dildo inside Narumi's tight hole. "Sakura." Kazuya ordered and the psychotic brunette arched her back and lifted her ass up. He could hear that Itsuka was still sucking her cunt from her. Leaning down, Kazuya kissed Narumi on his exposed shoulder and squeezed his silk-covered chest. "Start licking." Kazuya said happily. Sakura giggled and wiggled her ass towards the blonde. Narumi snorted, clearly irritated by the situation. Knowing she had no choice, she reached down and started licking her sister's ass. "Oh, Narumi! This is so good!" Sakura yelled, rubbing her ass against her little sister's face. As Narumi's tongue moved around Sakura's dirty hole, she felt someone playing with her own ass. Looking back, her eyes widened when she saw Kazuya rubbing lube all over his huge cock. That meant just one thing. Her wonderful little thoroughbred princess back entrance was about to be, for want of better words, broken into. Narumi screamed in Sakura's ass when her own hole was being penetrated. Her fat head appeared in the ring of her tightest hole and sank inch after inch. Of course this wasn't the first time she's been fucked in the ass. Kazuya claimed her ass several times a week. This was, however, the first time she had suffered double penetration. Once he hit rock bottom, he and Itsuka got into a rhythm, and soon she was getting the wildest fuck of her life. She screamed into her sister's ass as both holes were continually being filled. Suddenly, Kazuya reached out and ripped her thin, silky nightgown in half, pulling her out of her body. Her bare breasts were hanging as she ate Sakura's ass. Her last piece of clothing, her little thong was also removed in the same way. Ripped from her body, she was now as naked as the rest of them. Narumi grunted and moaned into Sakura as he felt his hot, thick cock jabbing into her ass. Her cock always made her feel incredibly full, but when a vibrator was added, it was almost too much for her to handle. Strong hands reached out and squeezed her dangling breasts. He felt them and massaged, pinched and rolled her pale pink nipples. Narumi's pussy was leaking all over Itsuka's lap as she rolled her hips in pleasure. Her body was shaking a lot. His cunt was leaking all over Itsuka's lap as she rolled her hips in pleasure. Her body was shaking a lot. Her cunt was leaking all over Itsuka's lap as she rolled her hips in pleasure. Her body was shaking a lot. When Kazuya's hand reached down and tugged on her sensitive clit, it was all over for her. Narumi screamed in Sakura's ass and cummed in Itsuka. Her ass wrinkled tightly, which made Kazuya angry. He grunted loudly and squeezed his hips. She felt his hot, thick seed spill into her as he continued to thrust. With deep strokes, he injected his cum into the deepest parts of her ass. Once milked, he quickly pulled and landed on his back. Breathing heavily, Kazuya said. "Sakura... Itsuka, play with the other one for a moment. I need to breathe." Kazuya pulled Narumi's violent orgasm from Itsuka's vibrator and held her against her sweaty chest. Narumi hugged him while her body shuddered with pleasure. "Oh, I forgot to tell you." Kazuya spoke in a manner, wiping the sweaty hair off his forehead. "The other day, I ordered that bag from that expensive Paris shop you always mentioned every now and then with a sigh of resignation. It should be delivered tomorrow. That thing was a real piece of shit to get." Kazuya said, closing his eyes and resting for a moment. Narumi's eyes, however, widened comically. She looked at her husband, completely bewildered. Coming out of it, she squealed happily and started showering him with kisses. Kazuya laughed and pulled her onto her lap. Narumi had no problem grabbing her cock and riding it like never before. ~xXx~ Sakura shivered with joy at what she was witnessing. She could barely contain herself. Slowly, her hand inched closer to her skirt. Maybe nobody noticed. Blood splashed into the crowd as her husband delivered a savage blow to his opponent, causing everyone to clap and smack into the cage. The man retaliated and landed a well-aimed shot in Kazuya's ribs. Snarling in anger, Kazuya backed away to compose himself. With Narumi and Itsuka on either side of her, Sakura was well hidden from any prying eyes. Her fingers slid down his pale, creamy thigh, making her gasp at the sensation. She bit her lip as her eyes fluttered. Her eyes were glued to her husband's sweaty, bloodstained chest. Fortunately, most of that blood didn't belong to him, though she hadn't really cared much anyway. Suddenly, her opponent attacked him like a wild beast, screaming like a madman. When he hit Kazuya in the stomach, he caught the man in an armlock. Bringing his elbow down, Kazuya jabbed him in the spine repeatedly until the man dropped to one knee. His hand slipped under her short skirt and climbed higher on her thigh. She could feel the heat radiating from her needy pussy. Her panties were so wet they practically stuck to her pussy. Stealthily, she pulled them aside and gasped at the cold air that hit her swollen lips. Kazuya grabbed the man by the back of the head and punched him in the face. A loud "ooooooh" erupted from the crowd as the man's head was thrown back. Kazuya brought his fist back and let it advance. Another blow hit the head, sending drops of blood to the carpet and the crowd. Sakura opened her thighs a little to give herself more space. Taking a look at her side, Narumi was nervously biting her lip as she watched Kazuya fight the man. This was perfect. Narumi was the one who would likely scold her for embarrassing her like that in public. Narumi was all about presenting the proper thoroughbred etiquette whenever it was in the public eye. Having her hand on her skirt in public was DEFINITELY NOT CONSIDERED GOOD MANNERS. She just needed to be sneaky about it. The man hit Kazuya in the stomach and flipped him over, pinning him to the ground. He went down and hit Kazuya in the face. He swayed over and over again, striking him each time. Sakura moaned at the sight of her husband. She desperately tried to hold back a gasp as her delicate fingers found her incredibly hard core. Slowly, she circled her hard clit, never touching it directly. Her fingers twisted and turned, massaging the small nub and making her pussy leak all over the seat. Looking around, she saw that she wasn't the only one. Another woman wasn't being so reserved about it. Her arm was moving quickly when she threw her head back and screamed. Sakura was incredibly jealous of the bitch. How she wished she could get naked and fuck herself with her fingers right here in the open air. Unfortunately, Narumi would never allow her to do such a thing. Kazuya jerked his head to the side as a hard punch came down. The man screamed in pain as his fist hit the hard mat instead of Kazuya's soft and pleasantly punching face. Kazuya used his strength to roll the man and immobilize him. He poured a series of fists into hammer blows, each blow ripping his face a little more. When he brought his hand back, the blood that had pooled in his fist was thrown back and left a bloodstain on the dress of a beautiful young woman and vague family. The crowd was going crazy. Kazuya could hear them hitting the cage with each punch to the man's face. Sakura's fingers dropped a little lower, just caressing the supple flesh of her wet little pussy. Shaking her fingers slightly, Sakura shivered at the feel of her silky folds being stimulated under her fingers. She wished she could open her blouse and free her perky breasts. She wanted the entire crowd to see how excited her husband could make her. As she petted her wet kitten, she saw that bitch Himejima Mika being spattered with the blood of Kazuya's opponent. Sakura growled as she reached out and began to cup her dress-covered breasts. She should have blood on her...not that whore Himejima!  Her fingers danced fiercely over her poor, abused pussy. She was surprised that her sisters couldn't smell her excitement floating up and down. Fortunately, the noise from the crowd drowned out the wet noise of her pussy being touched. She and the crowd moaned as the bell rang, signaling the end of the round. Quickly she pulled her hand from her pussy and straightened her skirt. Her husband was walking here, she thought happily. When he approached, she quickly rose to greet him. "Fuck, you look sexy!" Sakura growled, trying to grab him by the cage. Kazuya laughed and approached. Sakura was able to lean over and lick some of the sweat from her battered body. "If you kill him, you can go up my ass tonight!" "Sakura! This is so disgusting." Narumi muttered and moaned as he pushed her out of the way. Kazuya just shook his head and laughed happily. "There will be no deaths, unfortunately." Kazuya said, making Sakura moan. "If you win, our social standing will skyrocket." Narumi whispered to Kazuya. "And I'll let you do what you want with me tonight." Narumi added boldly, squeezing the muscle through the cage. Kazuya nodded and returned to the center when the bell rang. The girls leaned back in their chairs again. Sakura once again moved her panties to the side and started stroking her wet cunt. As they exchanged blows, Sakura threw caution to the wind and actually began strumming vigorously. Using her thumb, she rubbed her hardened clit as his fingers penetrated her pussy, making her shiver and moan. A brutal punch from Kazuya made the man fall to his knees. Kazuya then grabbed the back of his head and slammed his knee into his face. A sickening crack was heard as blood and teeth fell from the man's mouth. The man collapsed forward into an unconscious pile. The bell rang and Kazuya raised his arms victoriously. As the crowd cheered, Sakura screamed for another reason. Spreading her legs wide, she was able to part her lips as she squirts violently. Jets of feminine enjoyment spread in a stream through the bars and across the carpet. She gasped and rose as she rubbed her clit, her sprays turning to mist as she ran empty. As her pussy throbbed, Sakura shivered and spasmed in intense pleasure. She barely heard Narumi scolding her as she kept her eyes on her husband. The women pressed against the cage as they tried to touch their husband. Sakura smiled happily. Some of them even pulled their dresses down and showed him their breasts, complete with rock-hard nipples. Her hand snaked and squeezed her breasts before he moved on. ~xXx~ Kazuya slightly shivered as Itsuka wiped off the remaining bruise removal cream. He was still sore, but hopefully it would all be over in the morning. He got into the shower and cleaned himself of the medicinal paste residue from his body. After cleaning, he dried himself and went to his room. Sakura and Narumi were already naked. When she saw him, Sakura jumped out of bed and wrapped her arms around him, kissing him deeply. Narumi walked to the other side of him and started kissing her chest. On her knees, she fell and even pulled Sakura down with her. Already naked, her cock was rock hard and protruding. "A reward is in order." Narumi told Kazuya, looking at him with her big, adorable eyes. Grabbing his cock, she began stroking him slowly. Kazuya moaned in pleasure as Sakura's hand gripped his balls and began stroking them. Kazuya placed his hands on the back of each of their heads and brought them inside. On either side of her cock, his lips curled around her shaft. Slowly, he began to thrust his hips and moaned as they added their tongues to the mix. Pushing between two pairs of lips, Kazuya was in heaven as he felt pleasure in their mouths. Pulling away, he placed the tip of his cock against Narumi's lips and slid inside. He went deeper and deeper until she almost took the whole thing over. Sakura reached down and sucked his balls into her mouth. Just then, a naked Itsuka wrapped her arms around his waist. He could feel her big breasts and hard nipples rubbing against his shirtless back. Her hands wandered from her stomach to his chest as she kissed his shoulders and neck. Reaching up behind him, he pinched her shapely cheek as she began rubbing her bare pussy against his hip. Narumi pulled his cock with a loud wet *pop* and looked at Kazuya. Itsuka smiled and caught him by the base, slamming his saliva-covered cock against his sister's face. Narumi looked at her while Kazuya laughed. Sakura got up and grabbed her cock too. "Bed." Sakura said, leading him to the big, comfortable bed beside his cock. Kazuya and the other two girls followed and went upstairs. The three girls laid him on his back while Sakura continued to masturbate him. Kazuya was moaning with pleasure at the treatment he was receiving. Sakura swung a leg over his waist and sank down onto his huge pole. Throwing her head back, Sakura moaned loudly, arching her back in pure pleasure. Narumi did the same to his face and moaned too when his tongue snaked and licked the moisture clinging to her delicate folds. Itsuka, wanting some pleasure too, straddled her hand and began to roll her hips wide as his fingers slid into her damp depths. Soon, all three Kagura Sisters were rubbing each other on various parts of his body. Kazuya shivered as Sakura's tight pussy squeezed her fat cock as she rode him vigorously. Narumi moved her pussy until her clit pressed against his lips. Sucking them, he used her tongue as best he could. Pressing against her clit, he used his tongue skill and made her tongue flicker quickly. Narumi's eyes fluttered as she let out a whore moan. Arching her back and presenting her perfect breasts, her hands slid down her slender belly and cupped them, pinching and pulling at her rosy nipples. Her pussy was absolutely soaked as her husband continued to suck on her clit. She could hear the sipping sounds of him drinking her fluids. Turning Narumi's head, she saw that Itsuka was rocking her hips in a circular pattern as she bit her lip and shivered. She could see that Kazuya was using his thumb to massage Itsuka's swollen clit while brutally touching the dark-haired girl. When the clapping sounds she was hearing got louder, she turned and saw that Sakura was bouncing wildly in her lap. She could see her cock being coated with Sakura's cream as she slid up and down her slippery stick. Suddenly, Sakura screamed and a torrent of her fluids trickled out of her pussy, drenching Kazuya's lap in her moisture. Even as she came, Sakura continued to ride him as her body shuddered and thrashed. The sight made Narumi's pussy tingle a lot. Her eye twitched as Kazuya sucked hard on her clit and used his free hand to play with her ass. Feeling his finger play with her edge was enough to push her over her edge. She also came with a violent squirt, splashing semen in Kazuya's face and shaking. She fell forward and unintentionally spread her wet pussy all over her face. Itsuka, not to be outdone, pushed a Sakura still enjoying his cock and threw himself down. She only took a few hops before she fell forward and squealed in delight. Kazuya held her around the waist as she shivered and thrashed as her orgasm hit her. Itsuka felt him spurt his sperm deep into her welcoming pussy. Her silky walls massaged sperm straight from her cock as she rhythmically rocked into her lap. Itsuka was beside himself as he lay down on his chest. Kazuya grunted and speared her pussy, coming repeatedly, making sure to seed the deepest parts of her. Sakura pushed her away from him and took his wet, cum covered cock into her mouth, and sucked it clean. "Mmm, that feels good." Kazuya muttered happily, stroking Sakura's head. After cleaning it off, she continued to suck it back to hardness. When she turned to the reverse cowgirl position, Kazuya knew her aching muscles wouldn't rest anytime soon. All Kazuya could do was moan as she shoved his cock into her puckered hole and started jumping on him once more. ~xXx~ Hayama Kazuya was sitting at his table, taking a break from all the conversations and dancing that took place. He looked over and saw Narumi working the room like he had never seen him before. She seemed to be right in his element. Itsuka was talking to some of his friends and Sakura was sitting next to him. For some strange reason, she never liked being too far away from him. She was becoming more of a pet than anything these past few days, not that he minded. Of course, she also occasionally acted as a bodyguard, not that he needed to. They were at a party they had recently been invited to. None of them wanted to go, except of course little princess Narumi, who was delighted to be invited. Apparently, this party was a big event at the Pureblood Society. Kazuya didn't know anything about it. That's why he had someone like Narumi. Obviously, they agreed to go. Anything to make the little princess with the upturned nose happy. It wasn't really out of the kindness of heart. He expected her to do some really perverted things in return. He figured Sakura would like it. Taking a sip of his drink, he looked around the room. The big mansion was nice. No better than his, but adorable nonetheless. He didn't give a damn about the house, though. Kazuya was busy looking at the women. There were some sexy women attending the party that night. One in particular continued to watch him. "That bitch Kawabe Kinuyo is looking at you again." Sakura whispered in his ear. Her pleasant breath washed over his neck as she leaned in close. Kazuya could smell the soft scent of her perfume. That made him raise an eyebrow. Kawabe? "Who?" Kazuya curiously asked to be sure. "Kawabe Kinuyo. She married a fat guy last year and took his last name. A rich, middle-aged guy... can't remember his first name. Anyway, he died suddenly a few months later." Sakura said, shrugging. "Same?" Kazuya curiously asked with a raised eyebrow. He couldn't believe this was Kawabe Ryuken's famous black widow mother. She had been married thirteen times, as far as he could remember, all marriages to rich men. Each of them died under mysterious circumstances, making her even richer each week after the mourning. Of course, the rumors were that she had killed them all for the money. He wouldn't be surprised if that were true. There was another rumor that his family line was cursed, the "Curse of the Black Widow", as the two-faced bastards of the Wizarding World always called it. Kazuya didn't know what the truth was. He just had to make sure he never married the woman and everything would be fine at the end of the day. "Yeah. Everyone thinks she killed him for the money." Sakura said, sexually eating the olive from her martini. "Is everyone including you too?" Kazuya asked curiously and turned to Sakura, smiling weakly. Sakura shrugged. "I hope so. It would certainly make her more interesting than those boring sheep. She was two years ahead of me at school." Sakura told Kazuya. The two watched as the dark-skinned witch crossed her legs in a way that showed a lot of skin. Kazuya noticed that the eyes of many wizards were focused on the expanse of smooth, unblemished skin on display. She blinked her big brown eyes at him, making Sakura snort in derision. "This bitch really doesn't know you're married? It doesn't matter anyway. You're allowed, not that you need to explore your options outside of our marriage." Sakura said, placing her hand on his upper thigh and squeezing hard. Slowly, her hand began to massage higher and higher until he was rock hard. Her soft hand squeezed and palmed his hard cock through her pants as she asked, "Do you want to fuck the bitch?" Sakura's voice was throaty and sexy. "Yes, a lot." Kazuya answered honestly. Sakura continued to grope his cock. "I'll leave you alone then. That should give her time to come here and show her your pussy. There are some empty rooms at the end of that hallway." Sakura said, nodding her head at the one she was talking about. "I'll be hiding there. I want to watch." Sakura quickly got up and ran towards the hallway. Kawabe Kinuyo never took his eyes off Kazuya. It didn't take long for the beauty to come up to him and introduce herself. "Kawabe Kinuyo." Kinuyo said in her soft, beautiful voice. She held out her hand to Kazuya. Kazuya kissed his back softly. As she held him, he tickled her palm with his fingertip. This was something Itsuka particularly liked. And it really looked like Kinuyo and Itsuka shared something in common. He could feel her shudder as she introduced herself. "Kazuya Hayama at your service, Milady." As his hands were still clasped, Kinuyo pulled him to a far corner to talk. "You know, Kazuya, I was thinking this party is a complete drag. I was hoping for some fun." Kinuyo said in a sexy and seductive way, sliding her finger through the buttons of his robes and shirt and gently caressing his chest. "I've seen your performances in the ring. Especially the one with dear Kagura Sakura. You're a man who knows how to have fun. Kinuyo" he said, leaning in enough so that his full lips brushed the skin of her jaw. Kazuya smiled at the sexy girl. "I am a married man, Lady Kinuyo. Would that be appropriate?" Kazuya jokes, resting his hand on her hip as they were almost pressed together. "You're well within your rights to stick your dick anywhere you see fit." Kinuyo said, grabbing his hand and sliding it into the thigh-high slit in her dress. She pressed it against her panties, which felt silky under his fingers. He could feel the heat radiating from between her shapely thighs. Kazuya could see why so many men fell in love with his charms, despite the rumors about his Black Widow mentality. Up close, he could see that she was even prettier. The patterns in the irises of her chocolate brown eyes were mesmerizing to look at. Her scent was intoxicating when she touched him. Her body heat felt familiar and alluring at the same time, and the obscene amount of cleavage on display when he looked at her dress top was a sight to behold. After all, he couldn't blame any of those men for his stupidity. It was easy to fall in love with her seductive ways. Fortunately, Kazuya was no ordinary idiot. He had fucked prettier women than she was, and he wasn't some rich old bastard who had long since passed his prime. He could have fun and forget about her once the night was over. "Would you like to stick it in here?" Kinuyo curiously asked, biting her lip sexually as she pressed her fingers along her quickly moistened slit. Kazuya could feel the silky material getting wetter with each passing second. Kazuya squeezed her pussy tightly, making the girl gasp. "Let's take this somewhere a little more private." Kazuya told Kinuyo. "Just follow me." Kinuyo said. He got up and led her down the hall to the room Sakura had told him about. No one even blinked at him to lead an unmarried woman to a back room in the mansion. A lot of these things happened at these parties. There was an unspoken rule that everyone should keep quiet about these things. When the door closed behind them, Kazuya could feel Sakura sitting in a corner, invisible and completely silent. Sakura leaned back in the big, comfortable chair placed in the corner. Having already removed her clothes, she hooked one leg over each arm. She wished she could make herself visible, but she didn't want to scare the naughty bitch who was with her husband. When the door closed behind them, Kinuyo's hands were all over him. She palmed his ass and palmed his cock as her lips danced over his. Sakura could see her tongue sliding into his mouth as they pressed their bodies together. She watched as Kazuya lowered the straps of her dress from her slender shoulders, causing her dress to pool on her heeled feet. Kinuyo promptly took off her dress and leaned back against the table, spreading her legs and displaying her damp panties. Sakura shivered as his fingers deftly worked the delicate folds of her drenched pussy. Rubbing two fingers up and down her slit, his full, hairless lips caressed her fingers as she massaged her soft, pink insides. She waited with bated breath as Kazuya pulled her panties up and off her legs. Now Kinuyo was sitting at the table with her whore legs spread as she used two fingers to part her lips and rub the hard nub hidden under the fleshy hood. Sakura heard her sigh and moan at the sight of her husband's cock as he took off his pants. Sakura was full of pride. Her husband was at the top of the food chain when it came to other men. She was the first to admit that Kazuya deserved everything he wanted, including fucking the lonely pathetic girl Kawabe. Sakura's lovely chest was rising and falling as her breathing grew heavy and the intensity increased. Her fingers were drenched in fluid, but she wanted more than that. Lifting her legs a little, she used one hand to rub her hard, aching clit, and she used her other set of fingers to play with the edge of her wrinkled ass. Kazuya was holding his huge cock like a bat and slapping Kinuyo's wet, trembling cunt. The dark-skinned girl was screaming in pain and pleasure, and Sakura could see the moisture seeping from her hairless slit and dripping onto her backside. Seeing the pain of pleasure in another girl's eyes made Sakura even more excited. Sliding her finger off the edge, she moved it directly to the puckered hole of his ass. Applying some pressure, she gasped when the tip appeared. Biting her lip, she slowly pushed her finger down until it was level with her knuckles. Her ass was so hot around his finger that she let him inside for a moment just to savor the sensation. Of course, she wasn't satisfied with just keeping him there. Soon afterward, she started sticking her finger in and out of her tight hole. Her moans went unnoticed beneath the deft cast of the Silencing Shield as her toes curled and her back arched. When Kazuya finally penetrated the whore, Sakura pinched and twisted the flesh around her sensitive clit, making her scream and her pussy dripped all over her finger in her ass. Using her arousal as lubrication, her hand began to move faster and faster. She could feel her pussy vibrating as she abused her ass and clit. Kinuyo was crying with pleasure and Sakura could barely tell what was going on. The pleasure was just too good and it was making her see blemishes. She could hear how wet she was. Her wet penetration noise along with her screams and moans were the only sounds in the room. Sakura was getting close, and she could tell Kinuyo was in the same boat. She was wrapping her legs around his waist, possibly hoping that Hayama Kazuya would impregnate her. Sweat trickled down her forehead and large breasts as her body was shaken by his powerful thrusts. And when Kazuya moved his hand between her legs, she saw Kinuyo's eyes widen before trying to pinch her thighs, but it was too late. Her fingers were already on her clit. Kinuyo screamed and arched her back, pushing her perfect breasts and dark nipples into the air. Then, with one last shudder and uncontrolled spasm, she collapsed into an unconscious pile of flesh. Sakura couldn't contain her psychosis for the moment. She removed the hidden magic and quickly walked to the unconscious Kawabe Kinuyo. Like a dog, she lifted her leg and screamed as she squirted violently into the dark-skinned beauty's face and chest. With uncontrollable spasms, Sakura shivered as she crushed her cum on her face and dried her as if her life depended on it. She heard Kazuya grunt and knew he had seeded the bitch. When Kinuyo's nose hit her clit one last time, Sakura shivered as she lifted herself from her face. Standing there completely naked and breathing heavily. Kazuya kissed her deeply before they put on their clothes and left the room. He made a point of cleaning the woman up so as not to leave any evidence of Sakura's involvement. Just before entering the ballroom again, Kazuya slapped Sakura hard on the ass, making her shiver and making plans for the four of them later that night. ~xXx~ Kazuya was on his way back to the mansion, tired from his long day of traveling around the world. He has recently done some business with several wealthy members of the magical community, both here and abroad. This particular deal was with a magical community focused on magical plant farming quite large in northern India. Due to the great distance, the round-trip Portkey was almost devastating. Kazuya didn't like portkeys even on their best days, and luckily, all the suffering really paid off. While they dug a deep pit so they could produce a large amount of compost, they accidentally broke a rock and discovered a labyrinth of caves. The network, although extensive, was nothing out of the ordinary. There was nothing spectacular about it. Fortunately, the farmers saw a lot of potential in this, as did Kazuya's eyes. Seeing that the caves would be perfect for growing a specific type of magic mushroom, they immediately started looking for investors. The cost of setting it up was too high for them to support on their own. Unfortunately, many have not seen the benefits of investing in such an endeavor. That's when Kazuya received news about it. He immediately contacted them and arranged an emergency meeting with them. Kazuya knew the value of these types of mushrooms. Not only were they a rare potion ingredient for various high-quality potions and elixirs, but they were also recently taking off on the high-class food scene, from both worlds. Thanks to Narumi's insistence on eating out, almost every day, at the most expensive restaurants she knew, Kazuya knew that those mushrooms were slowly becoming the new caviar in the world's upper-class society. Soon the price of those mushrooms would skyrocket, and Kazuya now controlled their main supply. In the near future, he would make a fortune on his investment. Although satisfied with his difficult day of negotiations, he was tired and exhausted from all the portkey travel. He just wanted to get home and relax. It was getting late when he walked through the door. He had already eaten, so instead of going to the kitchen or calling an Imp, he simply went upstairs. Stripping off his robes and shirt along the way, he walked into the bedroom and tossed them into a side chair. At first, he didn't notice the scene unfolding before him. It wasn't until he smelled the enticing scent of wet pussy that he turned to look for the source. Before him was a vision that made his eyes widen. All three girls were completely naked and engaged in depraved sexual acts. Narumi's feminine sigh brought him out of his trance. Looking up, he saw Itsuka lying on her back while Narumi was straddling her waist. A strapped vibrator was stuffed into her little pussy as the hot blonde writhed in pleasure. If that wasn't enough, Sakura was also wearing a bracelet. The psychotic brunette had Narumi being pushed by the back of the head as she brutally pumped her sister's ass. His little Narumi was occupying the two holes. Quickly stripping off the rest of his clothes, Kazuya decided to watch for a moment rather than just jumping headlong into the action. It was even hard to hear Narumi beg and beg for mercy. Kazuya could see the drops of arousal escaping from her ravaged pussy and trickling down the insides of her thighs. He watched as her beautiful eyes fluttered and her beautiful body shook with pleasure. She screamed again and turned her head to look at him. "Kazuya." Narumi gasped, her mouth constantly open as she gasped for breath. He noticed that Sakura reached down and pinched the blonde's clit. Narumi threw his head back and moaned. "Hey, honey! Want to join us?" Sakura asked happily and laughed, slapping Narumi's porcelain ass and making it glow red. Itsuka greeted Kazuya just as she reached out and began to cup her sister's breasts. Kazuya walked to the bed and crawled. Sakura's hips were still rocking back and forth as she fucked the blonde who almost always acted prim and proper. He knew something must be up, but decided to put it off until later. At the moment, he wouldn't look like a horse gift in his mouth. He slid his hand down Sakura's back and found her damp with sweat. He continued further south and explored the shape of her beautiful ass. Slapping hard made the crazy brunette scream in pain. He didn't pay attention when her hand dipped between his shapely cheeks. Kazuya felt the smoothness of her skin as her fingers poked his puckered hole. He heard Sakura sigh before lifting her bottom slightly. Taking that as an invitation, he slid his hand down to her wet pussy and coated his finger in her arousal. Now with a wet finger, he rubbed circles over the edge of her ass as she continued to belt-fuck her sister. Her moans excited him even more. Kinuyo used his free hand to brush her hair back from her back and bent down and kissed the back of her neck. He could feel goose bumps break out over her smooth, smooth skin. Pushing things further, he slowly buried his finger all the way to her backside. Once he had his knuckles deep inside her he began to move his hand back and forth, slowly fucking her tight ass with his fingers. Sakura felt amazing when her husband started working on her ass. The feel of his warm lips on her damp skin made her nipples so hard they were starting to ache. Maybe she wanted him to suck on them to relieve some of the pressure. For now, she desperately tried to hold on and not come so quickly. The enchanted dildos she and Itsuka were using would send bolts of magic to her clit, which was wonderful in her opinion. When she added the fact that her ass was being touched, she couldn't help but shudder and shiver as her belly curled with the familiar sensation of a strong orgasm approaching. Unable to wait any longer, Kazuya pulled her finger and grabbed her wand. With a wave, he coated his cock and ass with lube. Putting his wand aside, he stroked her cock and made sure it was completely covered. Sliding his finger back into her ass, he lubed her tighter hole in preparation for him. Removing his finger once more, he settled himself behind her and slapped the head of his cock against her backside. Sakura twitched as his thick, bulbous head repeatedly hit her puckered hole. Wanting too much, she arched her back as much as she could, given the fact that she was still screwing her younger blonde sister. She felt his hot head touch her hole and slowly push inside. They both moaned as her resistance gave way and her head popped up. Having fucked his ass many times, it was easier for him to slip inside than it used to be. Even so, he went slowly as he pushed deeper and deeper into her. Kazuya looked down and saw his cock slowly disappear inside her. Her hips were moving back and forth as she continued to fuck Narumi. By doing that, she was basically fucking herself on his monstrous cock. Kazuya was not satisfied with this. He wanted more. Squeezing her hips tightly, he gave one last hard push, As Kazuya pushed his ass, Sakura was forced to go deeper into Narumi, earning three simultaneous moans of pleasure. When he left, Sakura also came out of her sister's tight ass. Another strong impulse from Kazuya pushed her back to Narumi. "Holy shit! Play with my tits!" Sakura yelled, throwing her head back with a mad look. Kazuya obeyed. He slid his hands from her hips and let them travel to her tiny waist. He loved the feel of her slick, damp skin under her palms. They traveled across her toned belly until, finally, he cupped her big bouncing breasts. Giving them a squeeze, he felt Sakura squeeze her cock as he thrust harder and harder. Soon his cock was flying in and out of her abused asshole, just the way she liked it. Their screams and squeals filled the room along with the smell of three very wet pussies. Feeling her grip on him more tightly he tightened, he decided to add a little more pain to her pleasure. Reaching back, he slapped her in the chest hard, making the ball of meat sway wildly. Sakura screamed as her idiot squeezed hard on his jerking cock. He grabbed both breasts and slapped them repeatedly. Sakura seemed to love having her beautiful breasts abused. Moving to her nipples, he grabbed them and pulled them hard away from her body. Holding them between his fingers, he wriggled them around hard before twisting. Sakura came violently as her body thrashed and shook. Kazuya pulled her ass and tossed her aside so she could get down on her own. Seeing Narumi's ass swaying from side to side, he grabbed her hips and pulled her up. Narumi screamed at being mistreated by Kazuya. He spun her around until she was pressed against her chest. Wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around her waist, she leaned in and kissed him passionately as he slid his huge cock deep inside her tight little pussy. When he started bouncing on her cock, her hard nipples rubbed violently against her sweaty chest, bringing her even closer to orgasm. With her hands on his ass, she felt him open her cheeks, earning a sigh from the sexy blonde. The reason was soon discovered. Itsuka pressed against her back as his strapped vibrator started to penetrate her ass. Grabbing Kazuya tightly, Narumi broke the kiss and bit her lip as inch after inch of soft rubber filled her insides. Shivering, she buried her face in his shoulder as they began fucking each hole in unison. Kazuya moaned at the feel of her hot, wet pussy gripping his big cock tightly. His walls were incredibly silky, even as they squeezed him and tried desperately to keep him inside. His nails were sharp and digging into her skin as his body shuddered with pleasure. Itsuka was crashing into her so hard that Narumi was almost crushed between them. Suddenly, Narumi screamed and screamed as she began to struggle and struggle. Kazuya could feel her moisture seeping and running down his balls. His pussy was vibrating all over his cock pushing as she pressed him tightly against her. Choking with pleasure, she gently bit his shoulder as her two lovers continued to brutally fuck, not caring if she was too sensitive or not. Her high-pitched female screams were muffled against Kazuya. Her skin sweated hers as he buried himself deep inside her. Using what was left of her strength, Narumi squeezed her pussy muscles as hard as possible. She cried out in relief when she felt Kazuya's hot seed fill her tunnel. He buried himself as deep as possible and filled her completely with cum as her soft walls milked him of everything he had. After finishing, they both withdrew, and Kazuya gently placed her on the bed next to the stunned Sakura. Kazuya was still sitting between her spread legs as Itsuka threw himself beside her. Kazuya gently rubbed his hand over her smooth, smooth stomach and played with the hairless mound with his thumb. He buried himself as deep as possible and filled her completely with cum as her smooth walls milked him with everything he had. After finishing, they both withdrew, and Kazuya gently placed her on the bed next to the stunned Sakura. Kazuya was still sitting between her spread legs as Itsuka threw himself beside her. Kazuya gently rubbed his hand over her smooth, smooth stomach and played with the hairless mound with his thumb. He buried himself as deep as possible and filled her completely with cum as her smooth walls milked him with everything he had. Depois de terminar, os dois se retiraram e Kazuya gentilmente a colocou na cama ao lado de Sakura atordoada. Kazuya ainda estava sentado entre suas pernas abertas enquanto Itsuka se jogava ao lado dela. Kazuya gentilmente esfregou a mão em sua barriga lisa e lisa e brincou com o monte sem pelos com o polegar. "Agora que nos divertimos um pouco, por que vocês, meninas, não me dizem o que querem?" Kazuya disse, sabendo que eles só se envolviam em atos sexuais quando Kazuya comandava, ou quando queriam algo dele. Isso não foi exceção. Narumi corou ao desviar o olhar, ofegando enquanto ele corria o dedo sobre seu clitóris inchado. "Queremos sair de férias." Itsuka falou rapidamente. Kazuya ergueu uma sobrancelha de uma forma curiosa. "Não vai de férias não faz muito tempo?" Kazuya perguntou, suas mãos explorando a carne macia e lisa de suas coxas. "Sim, mas realmente queremos ir para a praia, não para as montanhas e esquiar, não que fosse ruim." Itsuka falou suavemente, rastejando e levando seu pau em sua boca. Ela acenou com a cabeça e chupou o suco da buceta de Narumi. "Você está nos levando, certo?" Narumi implorou baixinho, deslizando o pé descalço sobre o peito dele. Kazuya suspirou. "Tudo bem." Kazuya assentiu, fazendo Narumi gritar de felicidade. Kazuya apenas colocou a mão na nuca de Itsuka e deixou que ela o chupasse até o fim. Vê-los de biquíni certamente não era a pior coisa do mundo.

Chapter 1 - Rising Tension

Farkas and Vilkas were never one of those annoying twins that finished each other’s sentences or impersonated one another to play tricks on people around them. No one had ever mistaken one to be the other as, though physically identical, their personalities were far too different. Vilkas was the bright and fiery one, whilst Farkas was less clever, yet calmer. Still, in spite of their opposite natures, one loved and cherished the other and they always worked in perfect harmony. However, even the strongest of brotherly bonds is not entirely free from rows. … “But why can’t I train with Aela?” Ria pouted. “Our fighting styles are similar and all!” “Because,” Vilkas dismissed ”you wanted to learn the longer blades. Aela never held anything longer than a dagger!” “I beg to differ!” Said Skjor as he passed the two on his way to the Skyforge. “She is very good with two-handed weapons. And as I recall, you and your brother saw her dual-wield more than once!” Vilkas clenched his teeth, feeling the canines piercing his tongue. He knew well what lied underneath his Shield-Brother’s seemingly innocent words. Skjor was taunting him. And this wasn’t the best time to get on his nerves. His own brother, usually docile and amiable around him, had recently become a growing annoyance. Vilkas needed a new sword from Eorlund? Suddenly, Farkas had ordered an axe just the day before. And he didn’t even like axes that much! Kodlak had a simple job that requested brute force? Farkas was nowhere to be found, leaving his less blunt sibling to get the work done. Not to mention small things, like showing up late to their scheduled meetings or not sharing the prey when they were on their monthly hunts… Ever since they were lads, they would go on hunts in the wild together. They did it to ensure the beasts within them were satisfied and easy to control when they were in the midst of other people. As werewolves they would stalk their prey, bring it down and feast until there were bare bones left. Then, they would go back to their everyday selves and return to Whiterun fed and peaceful. But this time, just as Vilkas was about to close his jaws on the throat of a robust elk, out of nowhere, appeared his brother’s muzzle attempting to do the same. That was too much for Vilkas to bear. Instead of sinking his teeth into the elk, he forcefully bit into his own brother’s neck. Their prey fled the scene as the two of them were busy chewing and clawing one another. Finally, the brothers managed to control their mutual anger, but hadn’t really spoken since. And that was two days ago. “What was that all about?” Ria implied. “Nothing of your interest, whelp! Now get back to training!” He snapped harshly. … “You’re not going?! Why?” Vilkas asked, giving his brother an unpleasant look. “This won’t end up well for us.” Farkas answered briefly. “It’s a simple job! Get in, kill the damned vampires, get out. Or are you afraid they have some big crawly ones as pets?” Vilkas asked. Farkas said nothing, but clenched his fists tighter. He was deeply ashamed of his fear of Frostbite Spiders, and his brother knew that. Bringing this up meant things were really bad between them. “If we go like this… We’ll only end up at each other’s throats. Just like last time.” He explained slowly, in a voice he always used when he tried his best to keep from bashing someone’s skull in. He loved his brother, but Vilkas could be stubborn, and he was prone to wild mood swings. “Fine then, I’ll go alone first thing in the morning. You can go now!” Vilkas announced. To him the conversation was over. Yet, Farkas was reluctant to leave his brother’s room. “No.” He said, still leaning against the stone wall. He never liked disobeying his brother, as Vilkas usually knew better, but this time he had to oppose him for his own damned good. “What do you mean no?” Vilkas’ brow furrowed. “They’ll slaughter you. You’re not going alone.” The look on his face was stern, the dark war paint they both used made his glare even more grave. “And what are you going to do, Farkas? Stop me?” “If that’s what it takes… I will. I’ll break your legs if I have to.” He promised in calm indifference. Vilkas walked towards his brother in two long steps. There were mere inches between their faces. Two sets of light gray eyes were glaring into each other. “How about we go out to the training yard and settle this the simple way, eh?” He suggested. “If that’s what you really want.” “Let’s go then. No armor.” “No weapons.” “Oh, shut up, both of you!” Aela commanded, as she walked into the room. … The Huntress considered herself to be a good Shield-Sister. As the only woman in the ranks of the Circle, she made sure her Shield-Brothers and the Harbinger were always relaxed and pleased. A good warrior’s mind must be clear and focused, otherwise he’s just a thug in fancy armor brandishing a good sword. She eased the stress of Skjor, the Twins and Kodlak by all means possible, be it by assisting them in battle, offering advice or accompanying in bed. One might consider her a harlot, yet she pleasured the men of her life out of her own initiative, never expected payment as seeing them relieved was its own reward. And if any of them would ever be foolish enough to offer her compensation or claim her as his own, she’d make him suffer the vastness of her displeasure with every fiber of his body. Lucky, none of them ever dared to cross the invisible line she drew. That evening, she had just got back to Jorrvaskir after spending four days in the wild, stalking two escaped criminals that somehow managed to get off the transport to Cindha Mine. When she presented their heads to the Jarl of Markarth, she was pleased to see the generous payment, along with a small bonus. Namely, a bow of excellent elven craftsmanship. She hiked back to Whiterun in a splendid mood. After having a lavish meal and a long bath, she planned to go to bed and sleep like the dead. She earned some quality time, after all. However, the raised voices coming from the Twins’ quarters made her change her plans. Silently, she crept up to the door and listened on their conversation for a moment. “Let’s go then. No armor.” It was Vilkas, his voice had that distinct tone that indicated he was on the brink of falling into a frenzy. “No weapons.” And Farkas just sounded… determined. This was bad, the two idiots rarely fought that hard. She sighed. It seemed that it was once again her duty as a woman to make the boys act like men. She turned the door handle and cavalierly entered the room. “Oh, shut up, both of you!” She commanded. She interfered just in time, they looked as they were about to commit fratricide. “Aela, go.” Farkas said, maintaining eye contact with his twin. “I agree with my stubborn brother, leave us.” “And let you two botch a job because you got all bitchy like little girls? Not a chance.” She rebuffed, sitting on the bed. She had to give it to Vilkas, his was the tidiest in all of Jorrvaskir. She made herself comfortable. The two weren’t paying her any mind, still staring into one another’s eyes as if the rest of the world stopped existing. “You two had it coming for over a month. And this is the least suitable time to be fighting.” The Huntress tried to mediate. “Kodlak is getting worse with every day. We lost too many whelps and new are hesitant to join. I won’t let your petty quarrels weaken the Companions! Damn it, look at me you idiots!” She called out, throwing her boot between them. The twins dodged the projectile in perfect sync. As Aela broke the spell holding them in place, they turned and faced her to find she was sitting on the bed wearing only her war paint. Her armor was like second skin, she knew every strap and buckle, thus she could undress in mere seconds without making much noise. “By Ysmir, now?” Vilkas sighed. The three of them have been in such a situation many times before. “You sure this is a good idea?” Farkas voiced his doubt. “Well, you can act like you males like acting the most; primitive. Or, you can come over here and let me help you mend that sacred twin bond of yours. So, what do you say?” She asked, brushing her red hair of her face. Her yellowish-green eyes flickered in the dim light. “Well… You were away for far too long.” Vilkas pointed out, rubbing his chin. “And it does get tense without you around here.” Farkas added, cracking his knuckles. “I’m happy you found reason.” She said warmly. “Now strip for me.”

Chapter 1 - Nova Vida de Elizabeth Wilkinson

Beth cried out in ecstasy as yet another climax raced through her body. She had lost track of how many times she peaked while the man above her slapped her pussy, and she honestly didn't care! She heard other women screaming in pleasure through the open doors, and a small part of her recognized Imelda's voice as one of them, urging her lover to fuck harder. It wasn't the first time she had been with this man, who said his name was Frank, but he seemed to get better every time! He always had ideas for new positions and she couldn't wait to feel what he would come up with next. She gasped when he lifted her legs and she moaned as he plunged even deeper into her core and she moaned in pleasure. The rest of the room disappeared and all that mattered was holding onto the rails at the head of the bed and not letting go as he buried himself completely inside her and let out a scream. Feeling his cock swell and his hot seed filling her belly was enough to trigger another orgasm, the biggest yet, and she fell back against the mattress panting with delight, a huge smile on her face. Her partner smiled at her too and walked out of her body saying, "Damn fantastic love, but I think we need a shower after this!" Elizabeth laughed. "I think so too Frank, but give me a minute, I can't feel my legs." He chuckled and sat up, before taking her hand and helping her move. She leaned against him as they stumbled to the bathroom and shower. The water soon revived her, and by the glint in her eyes, she knew the night wasn't over yet! She didn't care, he was paying her good money all night, and she always believed in giving customers money's worth. Feeling him hardened again, she smiled and knelt down, opening her mouth to take him inside. She didn't mind sucking him, he didn't expect her to let him finish in her mouth, he preferred to come on her breasts, which to be honest thrilled her a little, especially the expression on his face when she gathered his cum into his fingers and licked them clean. After she was done and rinsed again, he got out of the shower and began to dry off, allowing her to use the bathroom in private. With that care, she dried off and toweled her hair before stepping out and giving him privacy. While she waited, her eye landed on the copy of the newspaper the hotel provided and she noticed the date. September 24th, she blinked in surprise, had it really only been three months? It was hard to believe that her life had changed so much in just 90 days, but she wouldn't change if she could! She would have to do something really nice for Billy Gordon's widow and her daughter when they got home, if not for the two of them, she would never have been reminded of how really fun sex could really be! Not to mention the dwarves were out of her control and her vault was filling up nicely again. Hearing the other woman squeal in delight, Elizabeth smiled and wandered to the nearest open door in the adjoining room, and watched as Anastasia Guzman was sandwiched between two men, while Melissa and Lisa were in a 69 while the other man was stroking himself. She briefly wondered if Astoria would join them when she turned 21 later this year. Because they could really make a lot of money if someone wanted all three Guzman women at the same time. Turning to the other door, she looked inside and laughed. Imelda was lying on her back with Anneth occupied between her thighs while her man was pissing off the younger girl with all her courage. It was interesting to see that Anneth's ass cheeks were showing red handprints, apparently he had discovered that she liked to be spanked. Too bad Thea Davis already had a date for tonight, she'd be kicking herself for missing it! Hearing the bathroom door open, Elizabeth turned with a smile as her client left and held her hand out to her, obviously ready for another round. Life was good. ~xXx~ June 24, 2000 Elizabeth looked up from her morning cup of tea and moaned in frustration as another bank notification appeared and was looking imperiously at her. She was tempted to bring her wand to the bird, but she knew it would do nothing to stop the steady stream of bad news. In fact, she would probably make things worse, meeting those damn dwarves. Taking a deep breath, she gestured to the owl and it flew in, dropping the parchment onto the table that was already covered with them, and went flying, not even stopping to take a sip from the bowl of water. With trembling hands, she lifted the parchment and broke the seal, dreading what she would find written inside. She started to read and closed her eyes against the tears that sprang up spontaneously, it was even worse than she expected! The dwarves were calling the note in the mansion, and all the contents, unless she could pay 1,200 gold coins in just seven days! Once again, she cursed Talion and Vincent for their fanatical support of the Dark Lord, they nearly emptied Wilkinson's coffers in the two years between his accession and death/execution of the Dark Lord at the hands of Wendell Holloway in front of the Statue of Liberty. If they hadn't given so much of their gold to that madman, there might have been enough to change the results of their trials. Although, considering what had happened the first time, she doubted there was enough gold to save Talion, but she could at least try to save Vincent, claiming her young youth and her father's influence throughout her life. But even with Holloway testifying on Vincent's behalf, since he was obviously not willing to kill Aylbhathat, and that he had seen Thomas Wayne cast the curse that killed the younger Weasley boy, the Ministry Prosecutor, he had the entire Council of Governors looking for blood and wouldn't listen to Holloway. And, without the gold to convince the Council of Governors, Vincent ended up like Talion, his sister and everyone else. She watched in horror as they marched into the prison yard and lined up against the wall, while a dozen soldiers waited, those rifles in hand, for the execution order to be given. She, and many others, protested the barbaric nature of the executions, saying they should have been placed in the Lines of Law, the traditional way of executing wizards and witches, since before the Ethers came under their control. Their protests proved to be in vain, as Arthur Bradford stood up and convinced the members that because the prisoners' actions nearly exposed their World, which would have been a disaster for them all, it was only knowing that they met their ends in a non-magical way. She didn't even receive their bodies for burial, they were just thrown into a pile with everyone else, and something was spilled on them, and Minister Danvers cast magical cursed fire on the corpses, and soon the smell of burning flesh filled the courtyard. It was the strong smell that hit her, and she staggered, before vomiting. From the sounds of vomiting, she wasn't the only one sickened by the sight and smell of her loved ones being burned. She thought being forced to watch the executions was the end of the nightmare, but it wasn't. It was only when she started getting letters from the bank about a loan Talion had made against the property that she realized how big a hole she was in. She managed to make payments the first few years with her savings, money that Talion definitely didn't know she had hidden, plus selling several items she had no use for, but that money had run out months ago and no one was willing or able to. help her. She even tried to get Patrick to help her, but he just laughed in her face. She really couldn't blame him, as it was Talion's curse that had cost her his dominant arm, but she was desperate. The only slight comfort she could find was that she wasn't alone in this situation, hell, most of the women she knew were in the same, or worse situation... Though, on second thought, both Imelda Gordon and Anastasia Guzman seemed to have recovered in recent months. Did they find someone to take them as a mistress? And if they did, could they help her find someone too? Did she really want to have a lover, even if it was just to keep the dwarves from taking it all? She had to admit, she wanted this. She had been faithful to Talion while he was alive, but Talion had been dead for nearly four years, and she missed a man present in her bed. Before she could convince herself otherwise, she was calling Gordon Manor. Imelda quickly came in a moment or two later, and Elizabeth realized with a pang of jealousy that the woman was dressed in a very expensive silk robe, and her makeup was smudged, her hair showing signs of having been pummeled into the mattress... Quickly explaining her situation, Imelda nodded knowingly and said, "It's not something I would discuss like that, but why don't you come? I'll have the Imps make breakfast for us, and we'll talk about it ." ~xXx~ After cleaning herself up, Imelda greeted her with a hug and led her by the hand into the dining room. When they sat down and Imelda gave the order to serve breakfast, she started talking. “Several months ago, I was in a similar situation, about to lose everything because Alonzo emptied our coffers to support the Dark Lord, and when he was executed, all the debts he accumulated came to me. I was desperate, until Anneth came to me with a solution. One she discovered by accident. She, Melissa and Lisa were wandering around one night, hoping to walk into a bar and find some men to buy them drinks for the night. It worked even better than they expected!" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to continue, which Imelda did. “They were only at the bar a few minutes ago when someone came up to them and bought the three drinks before inviting them to their table. They went with him and saw that he was with another man, and they talked and drank a little, before the first one said, 'I have a thousand pounds for each of you, if you three come up to our room so we can "meet " best. Now Anneth wasn't silly, and all three of them had their wands if anything happened, so she told the man to show her the 3,000 pounds. He reached into his wallet and showed her the money. Elizabeth gasped in shock, she could see where this was going, and couldn't believe Imelda was being so open about it. “Wait, this gets even better! The three talked about it and were all drunk enough to accept the idea, so they went upstairs to their room. Of course, do you know what happened next? When they were relaxing afterwards, the man's friend said he would give them another 500 pounds each if the three of them had sex with each other while they watched! It took another bottle of champagne, but the three left the hotel with £1,500 each and memories of the best sex they ever had." “Of course, when Anneth got home, I was prepared to lecture her about staying out all night until she pulled out her purse money. I was shocked at first, needless to say, I know I didn't raise her to be a whore. But looking at the money and the smug smile on her face, I started to think, if she made that much money in just one night, we'd both get twice as much, right?" Before Elizabeth could say anything, Imelda continued. “Turns out I wasn't the only one having thoughts like that, Anastasia and Thea were thinking the same way. We all desperately needed money and didn't want pride to get in the way of maintaining our homes. So that night, the six of us went back to that hotel, and the bar was packed with men, all of them dressed in extremely expensive clothes, and before long, I had a drink in front of me, and I was talking to one of them. He made me an offer like Anneth had received, and seeing that the others were all occupied, I went with him, and let me tell you, if I had known non-magicians could have sex like this, I would have started years ago ! And he was clean! I don't know how Talion was doing, but Alonzo only used cleansing and cologne spells to mask his odor, and it was disgusting to smell, but this man only smelled like soap and water. I actually ended up gaining 2,000 pounds that night because he really wanted to fuck me, and I was able to get more out of him with it.” She laughed. “I probably would have let him do me for free, as good as he made me feel. He actually used his mouth on me before we started having sex, and that was something Alonzo would never do, although he expected me to suck him off him all the time. ” Elizabeth finally found her voice after a few moments of silence. “I mean, did you get 400 gold coins from this man just for getting laid? What have you been up to, going back to the bar every night? Is that how you were able to pay the dwarves?" Imelda shook her head: “Merlin, no Elizabeth, we only go one or two nights a week, we have enough men who want to see us again three or four nights a week, we have dates with them. After the second week, we all had to go get these things called cell phones so the men could call us to set things right.” She laughed: “I started talking to one of the other women who work at that bar, and she told me showed her business card with her name and phone number so her customers could get in touch with her. It sure made things easier, I was getting tired of having to write my number constantly on napkins.” “And men don't want something weird for their money? It's a lot of money just for sex, isn't it?" “Once in a while, but if it's something I really don't want to do, I just erase them and make them think I did what they wanted, but that doesn't happen very often. Usually they just want me to suck their dicks or a normal fuck. Some want to fuck me blindfolded, and I don't care if they pay enough for it. Sometimes they want two women at the same time, and that's always worth more, and we've all become really good at pleasing each other. Hell, there's a guy who must be richer than Midas, paid us 10,000 pounds to see Anneth and me together. It was a weird experience at first, but then we started having fun." Elizabeth idly wished she had something stronger than tea at the moment, because she couldn't believe she'd ask that question, but, Imelda was right, what's a little thing like pride in losing your home in the last 20 years? Taking a deep breath, she asked, “Are you going to the hotel tonight? And can I go with you? " Imelda smiled sadly: “It's hard to make a decision, isn't it? But, yes, we are going tonight, and you can come with us." Elizabeth smiled weakly but shook her head. "Thank you, and it's not that hard. I may be an Azulla, but we know there's always a time to ignore your pride and for me, the time is now." Imelda nodded: “Do you have anything to do at home? If not, why don't you stay here during the day and we can prepare you. We need to buy you something normal to wear so you don't stand out in a way you don't want to." Elizabeth shook her head. "No, there's absolutely nothing I need to be in the Mansion, and I really don't want to keep going through those damn letters!" “It's going to get better, believe me, we've all been right where you are, cursing our husbands for supporting that bloody maniac and leaving us to clean up his mess. If it helps, think about what you're doing in revenge against Talion for being such a damned idiot!" She couldn't help it, a giggle escaped her, and she smiled a little more naturally. "You know, it really does, thanks. And I would be happy to accept your invitation to spend the day." Accepting another cup of tea from the house-elf, Imelda said, “Since you're going with us tonight, there are some things we need to do.” Summoning her purse, Imelda grabbed a handful of pound notes and handed them to her. and get you one of the cell phones. We can print some business cards at the same time so you have a phone number to give if anyone asks for a way to get in touch with you." Elizabeth couldn't help it, she paled at the thought of going, she'd never been on the normal side of town before. “I know it's scary to think about it, and New York is noisy and crowded, but it's not as bad as you get used to. No need to worry, I'll be right by your side today and you'll be fine. We can do some shopping while we're gone, get a pair of nice clothes, because you don't want to be seen wearing the same thing there very often. Just don't worry about the cost, I'll cover you and you can pay me when I recover.” Standing up, Imelda said, “Why don't you go upstairs with me? You can take a look at my clothes while I'm taking a shower and then we can go." When they reached the top of the stairs, the door on the left side of the hall opened and a naked Melissa Guzman stepped out, only to stop in shock at the sight of them. "Oh! I'm sorry Imelda, I didn't know you had company or would have taken a robe." Imelda smiled. "Don't worry about it dear, Elizabeth will get used to it soon, she's going with us tonight." Melissa smiled and gave Elizabeth an appraising look, before licking her lips. "Oh this is going to be good, you look so hot!" Imelda laughed: “Don't be a greedy girl, you'll scare her. And besides, if she gets someone who wants a ménage tonight, I'll go with her, since we know each other a lot better than she knows you or anyone else. ” Melissa shrugged, which Elizabeth noticed was doing very interesting things to her upper body, before turning and walking down the hall to the bathroom. “She is very attractive, isn't she? She's a real little devil in bed, I'll tell you! You'd think she was talking Parseltongue the way she can move her tongue inside you!" Seeing Elizabeth's blush, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, I know this whole idea is very new to you, but you're going to have to get used to blatantly sexual conversation and see us naked if you want. chance to earn the money you need." Elizabeth laughed. "It's actually not a problem, I was just remembering some things that happened when I was her age, when Alfredo Holloway and Lily Ruby decided to seduce me over a weekend. I know the rumors were that Wendell Holloway got his Parseltongue skill from the Dark Maniac, but considering how Lily's tongue moved, it's very likely that it was an heirloom from her mother's side of the family." Imelda gaped at her for a minute, before laughing. “Did they sleep with you too? I thought I was the only one in our year who received their special treatment. I wonder if they got to Anastasia and Thea?" Imelda said, "We can talk about this later, I really need to take a shower and sort out last night's problems. Go ahead and pick something you're comfortable with, and we'll go as soon as I get dressed.” Without another word, the woman removed her robe and walked naked to the bathroom. Elizabeth took a second to admire Imelda's firm body, remembering Lily Ruby's lush curves, and how much she'd enjoyed Alfred's firm hand controlling them both. Not for the first time, she bitterly regretted the marriage contract she had been pressured to sign, which prevented her from enjoying more than just that one weekend with them and Vincent's idiotic decision to declare Wendell Holloway to be her rival even before. of him starting at Bella Noche, the wonders she could have taught her nephew... Stepping away from the bathroom door, she opened the closet door and ran her eyes over the dresses and casual clothes that hung there. They were obviously well made, and she ran her fingers through the fabric before choosing a dress that caught her eye. It was bolder than she would normally wear, but even more modest than some of the other clothes Imelda had there. Removing her robes, Elizabeth took the dress from the closet and carried it to the full-length mirror across the room. As she walked, she took a look at herself, wearing nothing but panties and a bra and a slight smile crossed her face. Her body looked like that of a 25-year-old woman, not that of a woman over 40. She would have no problem attracting a willing man for the night, and he wouldn't be disappointed when she undressed for him, that is. certainly! She was feeling more than a little daring, and she dropped her dress to take off her bra and panties. Taking another look in the mirror, she frowned at the forest of hair growing between her legs and, remembering the way Imelda was prepared, she decided to do the same thing. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she ran her wand across her crotch and was soon displaying a small triangle of blond hair just above her mound. Nodding in satisfaction, she brushed off her hair and stood up, sliding the dress over her head. When she finished buttoning the front of her dress, Imelda came out of the shower, naked except for a towel wrapped around her hair. The other woman looked at her approvingly and said, "This will do just fine, you have the figure to carry the fashion and will have no problem fitting in tonight." She smiled, "And honestly, if we didn't have a lot to do today, I'd be tempted to take that dress off of you and spend the day in bed, you look good enough to eat!" Elizabeth laughed, all her nerves forgotten: "I think I'll like this, it's been a long time since I've had a chance to play with another woman, but I don't think I've forgotten how." Imelda giggled: “It's not exactly something you forget, is it? But, I need to get dressed, why don't you go downstairs and relax for a few minutes? I'll be down soon and we can leave. ” ~xXx~ The rest of the day had been a blur for Elizabeth as Imelda guided her how to get a cell phone and show her how to use it, as well as print business cards with the name Beth, which was her and Imelda's name. she didn't stand out in the non-magical world, just as Anastasia was Stacey, and Thea was Tina. Imelda wasn't exactly common in the non-magical world, but it wasn't all that unusual either, so she didn't bother to change that. The girls' names were normal enough so they didn't need to change them. Imelda spent the rest of the afternoon getting used to being treated as 'Beth' by calling her that. It was difficult, but when they left for the hotel, it had become second nature to her. As if learning to answer a new name and discovering this phone thing, they spent hours choosing the right outfit to wear for the next few nights. It was a little embarrassing to have to undress for the Agent Provocateur salesgirl, but she had to admit that she loved the feel of the silk stockings and panties Imelda had bought for her, and it made her feel more desirable. She picked up a catalog before they left, because she would want to order more when she was making money. After putting the dress back on and using the silk against her skin, Imelda led her to a store a few doors down that seemed to have every type and style of dress on its shelves. Elizabeth was forced to experiment with different styles and colors until Imelda was satisfied with her appearance and, after Imelda paid, they took the dresses and shoes out of the store. Fortunately, that was the end of shopping, at least for now, and Imelda dove into a shaded area and had her diabrete take the packages back to her house. After stopping for an afternoon cup of tea, they returned to Imelda's house, where they napped for a few hours before plunging into Imelda's luxurious bath, receiving instructions on what to expect and how to act when approached. Imelda said that she would try to get the man to agree to take the two of them the first time so Elizabeth could learn, but that she should be prepared if that wasn't possible. Elizabeth actually felt her nerves coming back, but Imelda gave her a calming potion before surprising her with a wand holster she would wear on her arm. After Elizabeth slipped her wand inside, Imelda cast a 'Don't notice me' spell on her so that no customers would pay attention, but she could still defend herself. ~xXx~ Elizabeth walked into the bar with Imelda beside her, smiling and chatting happily. She felt the eyes of several different men and more than a few women land on her, and her smile grew even wider, enjoying the lewd looks that were directed at her. The two found seats at the bar and ordered their drinks. Imelda suggested that she continue with the wine tonight so she could be relatively lucid. Elizabeth felt a pair of eyes on her and, looking in the mirror behind the bar, saw a well-built man with light brown hair watching her as she spoke to the waitress. He handed her a napkin and the waitress nodded with a smile before heading back to the bar. When the bartender returned with the drinks, he told them they had been paid for by the man at the table and placed an extra napkin next to Imelda's glass. After he was gone, Elizabeth glanced at her napkin, wondering what was so special about it, only to see it was blank, except for the letters RU, with a question mark and circle. Seeing Imelda smile, she said, “What is this, Imelda? Why are you smiling?" Imelda walked over and said softly: “It's simple code, he's asking 'are you working?' which is what they call what we're doing. Now follow my lead. ” Picking up her glass, Elizabeth rose and followed Imelda to the man's table and accepted his invitation to be seated. Once they were both seated, Imelda smiled and said, so softly that Elizabeth had to strain to hear her over the background noise, "Thanks for the drink, and the answer to your question is yes." The man smiled and his voice was so low. "Excellent, I thought you might be, I've been here a few times in the past when business brought me to New York and I've seen you before, but I haven't seen your friend before, have I?" Imelda shook her head, "No, this is Beth and it's her first night, I'm showing her how it works. By the way, I'm Imelda and you are?" He laughed. "I'm Jim, and it's great to meet you two. Now as we all know what's going on." Imelda gave a throaty laugh: “Don't hesitate to come forward, will you Jim? Well then, for 3,000 pounds you get both of us for the night, straight and boring, plus Beth and I will put on a show for you. If you want something special, it will be extra and we need to discuss that before we get up from the table. Is that nice for you?" Jim glanced at the two of them briefly, then his smile widened. “It's a start but I want something special. See, I closed the biggest deal of my career earlier today, signed contracts and all, and I really want to celebrate in style. I have 5,000 pounds in my wallet and I want you two, including your asses, as many times as you can between now and 5 am tomorrow morning. I need to catch an 8 am flight and sleep on the plane. Now, is that nice for you?" Imelda looked at her, and Elizabeth gave a slight nod. She had no problem with what this 'Jim' wanted to do, so Imelda turned to him with a smile and said, "Let's see the money first." Jim chuckled, took his wallet out of his jacket and held it under the table, before pulling out a large wad of £100 notes. “I said I wanted to celebrate and I came prepared. Now, if you two would like to have your wine, I have a bottle of very nice white in the room for us to enjoy." Elizabeth was impressed by Jim's calm confidence; she expected him to be nervous about wanting them both, but he acted as if having two women at the same time was a normal occurrence for him. Maybe it was? Sure, it could be an act, but she didn't think it was, men couldn't be so different, whether they had magic or not, could they? Still thinking, she picked up her glass and followed Jim and Imelda out of the bar and across the lobby. She was aware enough to be a little surprised at how opulent the accessories and furniture were, since the few hotels she'd been to during her wedding were all in the wizarding world and were more alike to each other. She was snapped out of her thoughts when the elevator door closed behind them, and Jim hit the button to get them to their floor. He turned to both of them and said, “Okay, we have about a minute and I want you to do something for me. I've always collected memories of my adventures, my wife loves to hear about them, you see. So if you two please lift your dresses and take off your panties, you won't need them for the rest of the night. ” Elizabeth was shocked by the blatant request, and could tell by the way Imelda stiffened that she was too, but Elizabeth was also a little turned on by it, which didn't surprise her at all, remembering how much she'd liked Alfredo and Lily, it was the same thing when they were together. She reached down and pulled the hem of her dress up, allowing him to grab the laces that held her panties in place, and pulled them apart. Looking at Jim, he was smiling at her and holding out his hand. Without thinking, she handed him her silk panties and let the dress fall, covering her again. Elizabeth heard Imelda laugh as she pulled on her dress. "You surprised me Jim, not many men would admit to being married in a situation like this." He chuckled: “I'm not surprised, but my wife knows I need a change, and so does she. Luckily, we have some friends we trust implicitly, and she's probably riding Rick and kissing his wife as we talk right now.” Elizabeth licked her lips, imagining the scene, and spoke for the first time, "It sounds like you have an interesting marriage, Jim, and that explains why you're confident with us." Imelda gave him a quick look of approval before turning to Jim, but before he could say anything, the elevator stopped on their floor. Elizabeth was actually getting excited about what was going to happen, her memories of the weekend with Alfredo and Lily wetting her pussy. She knew that Jim and Imelda weren't Alfredo and Lily, but she hoped she would have as much pleasure with them as at school. When Jim opened the door with his keycard, Elizabeth's eyes took in everything she could. The room was much bigger than she expected. In fact, they were in a small living room, with a sofa and a few chairs along with a dining area. There was a half-open door that showed a bathroom, and the other door led to the bedroom. She tried to keep her face impassive, but it was obvious that Jim was a rich enough man to be able to afford something like that. When she heard the door close behind them, Elizabeth turned and saw Jim handing Imelda the stack of pound notes, which she tucked into her purse. When the two of them were looking at him, Jim said, “Okay, so for starters, I'd like to see you two together, just so you're really warmed up when the fun really starts. Please take off your clothes and leave them on the couch, we can move this to the bedroom Beth, you go first." Without even looking at Imelda, she reached out and began to undo the buttons on the front of her dress, enjoying the way Jim's eyes fixed on her cleavage as the dress opened, showing off her bra. When the dress was completely unbuttoned, she shrugged it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, leaving her standing there in her bra and garters and stockings, her panties already in Jim's breast pocket, a rather obscene handkerchief. She took off her dress and reached out, unzipping the front of her bra and pulling it open, exposing herself to his admiring eyes. Her nipples were already erect with excitement and a quick glance at Jim's crotch showed he was enjoying what he was seeing. Dropping her bra to the floor so that it landed on top of her dress, Elizabeth was reaching for her garters when Jim stopped her. “No, leave the socks and garters, I really like the look a lot. You can take your shoes off.” Giving him a smile and a nod, Elizabeth removed the shoes she was wearing and stood waiting, arms behind her back, pushing her breasts forward. Jim looked at her appreciatively and smiled. “Very beautiful, Beth, very beautiful. And I like the look, I don't like to see hair on women's teeth. ” Before she could wonder what he meant by that, her attention turned to Imelda and she took off her clothes, leaving her socks and garter behind as well. Elizabeth was amused to see that the other woman was already more than a little turned on. It certainly boded well for the rest of the evening. Jim smiled at them both and said, “Beth, I want to see you and Imelda move around, wet your fingers and then feed each other your juices. I don't know if the two of you have ever been together before, but I want to see you two enjoying each other's taste. Elizabeth laughed. "You're a pervert, aren't you?" Before she reached between her legs and started rubbing her pussy. She briefly wondered where her feeling of shame was, because she was calmly doing things she had never done to anyone, not even Alfredo Holloway, before! She was already wet from having to take her panties off in the elevator, so her fingers slid easily inside her, and she let out a soft moan as she rubbed her inner walls. Elizabeth felt herself stretch and was actually looking forward to having a man inside her for the first time in years. She looked at Jim and felt a shiver of anticipation in the lust in her eyes as he watched her, before turning to look at Imelda in the same way. Elizabeth looked at the other woman and saw the blush on her skin and the smoky look in her eyes, and knew Imelda was as turned on as she was. Pulling her fingers out of her pussy, she turned to her partner and brought them to Imelda's mouth. The woman eagerly opened and began to suck the juices, moaning with happiness. She seemed to be lost in what she was doing, so Elizabeth used her free hand to remove her fingers from Imelda's pussy, making her shiver, before smiling with her fingers in her mouth. Elizabeth lifted her hand and began to lick her fingers, treating each one as if it were a miniature penis, before putting each one in her mouth and sucking them clean. She was glad it tasted quite pleasant, almost sweet, because it would have been hard to enjoy it if the woman didn't taste good. She vaguely wondered if the other woman in her little group tasted this good? She was a little disappointed when she realized that the fingers in her mouth were clean and that Imelda had let go of her hand, but then she saw Jim smiling at them, and he gestured for them to join him in the bedroom. When the two of them were sitting up in bed, Jim began to undress, and Elizabeth was surprised at how muscular the man was! She had never seen a man who looked so powerful without his clothes on before, not to mention the size of the one he had between his legs. She couldn't hold back, but her mouth started to water as she started to harden, and she knew she would really like it! A glance at Imelda showed she was equally affected, though she tried to maintain a professional demeanor. Elizabeth had seen the unmasked woman before, and it was easy to see the signs. Knowing what Jim wanted, and quite excited about the idea, Elizabeth turned to Imelda, put her arm around the other woman, and pulled her close. Imelda looked surprised for a second, until she relaxed into the embrace and lifted her face for a kiss. Beth hadn't kissed another woman since those days with Lily, but she still remembered what to do in that situation, pressing her lips gently against Imelda's, before sliding her tongue to run over the other woman's lips, parting them. When Imelda opened her mouth, Beth slid her tongue inside, gripping it tightly while she used her other hand to caress Imelda's breasts, enjoying the way the flesh quivered when her hand touched her nipples. A small part of her was surprised that she was being so aggressive, but the idea that she was going to have sex and actually be able to enjoy it, contrary to what she'd experienced with Talion, was driving her forward. Guiding Imelda to lie down on the bed, Beth released her mouth and began to kiss her neck and shoulders, all the while using one hand to play with Imelda's breasts, making little noises of pleasure from her throat. Beth was really enjoying the reaction she was getting and knew she was probably soaking the comforter on the bed, but she didn't really care! Moving lower, she kissed all of Imelda's breasts before sucking on her nipples briefly. Imelda writhed beneath her and her legs parted, allowing Beth's hand to reach down and begin rubbing her mound. Imelda's soft moans were getting louder and Beth could feel her skin turning red as she suckled on the woman's breasts. She hid a smirk at the way the supposedly experienced witch was responding to her with her mouth and hands, glad that the experience she'd gained with Lily hadn't been forgotten. Spreading Imelda's legs further apart, Beth shifted so that she was between the woman's thighs and her knees were on the bed. Kissing her way down Imelda's body, she slipped a finger inside the woman's vagina and began rubbing the inner walls. Brushing her clit with her thumb was enough to make Imelda shiver and cry out in pleasure, before collapsing against the mattress, breathing deeply. Beth lifted her head and looked into the mirror above the headboard, curious about Jim's reaction, to see him slowly caressing himself with an intense gaze. She was really looking forward to having him fill her pussy, he was much bigger than Talion, and even a little longer than Alfred, and heir Holloway had stretched her wonderfully well several times that weekend. Lowering her head, she shifted so her mouth was right over Imelda's entrance, and blew softly over her neatly trimmed black hair, drawing another shiver from the woman. Sticking out her tongue, Beth gave Imelda's cunt an experimental lick, gathering the accumulated juices on her tongue and letting them sit for a second or two before swallowing. 'Tastes so good from the fountain,' she thought, before giving another more confident swipe with her tongue, making Imelda squirm and try to grab her hair. Beth gently pushed the gripping hands away, concentrating on sliding her tongue into the woman's drenched pussy. Her movements became more practiced as she used her fingers and mouth on Imelda, and soon the woman was screaming with pleasure and shivering as she reached the peak. Beth's eyes widened as her mouth was suddenly flooded with Imelda's juices, but she swallowed them all. She was still licking, wanting to get Imelda out a second time, when she felt the mattress shift behind her and Jim's hands rested on her hips. Knowing what he wanted, Beth spread her legs a little wider to give him easier access to her core. She didn't have to wait long as her cock head rubbed along her lips, sending explosions of pleasure through her body, before pushing inside her eager pussy. She lifted her head and moaned with happiness as she felt something bigger than a finger inside her for the first time in years! Spreading her legs wider, she moved back, trying to pull him deeper into her core. She gasped against Imelda as he sheathed himself inside her, she couldn't believe the feeling of being so full! Jim started pumping inside her, and she did her best to keep licking Imelda, but it was hard when his cock in her cunt was shooting pleasure from her toes to the tips of her ears! Eventually Beth was able to find a rhythm to move against Jim while still paying attention to Imelda, but soon Imelda disappeared from her consciousness, leaving nothing but her pussy and his hard cock pounding into her as if she'd never been spanked before! Beth had felt several mini-orgasms shooting through her, but they kept disappearing before actually pushing her over the edge, and it was driving her crazy with anticipation! Finally, she felt him slamming against her ass, and his hand reached around her and began to rub her clit, and that was all it took, the pressure building inside her finally released, and waves of pleasure coursed through her body and she was gone. taken afar in oceans of ecstasy. She heard herself crying out in pleasure, and then she knew nothing else. When she realized what was around her again, she was on her back, and there was a mouth on her cunt, licking her eagerly, and Beth heard her voice moan in encouragement. Opening her eyes, she saw Jim pumping at Imelda, who had his mouth between her thighs. She smiled at the other woman, who managed to lift her face and smile, her mouth glistening with Beth's juices, before winking at her and getting back to work, hitting a really cute spot inside her pussy! "Best idea ever!" It was the last coherent thought Beth had for a long time, her body working automatically as Imelda shifted on top of her so that the other woman was straddling her face. Beth was soon happily licking the pussy above her, taking her time to lick Jim's shaft as he moved in and out of Imelda, receiving sounds of encouragement from both of them. Beth watched in fascination as Jim's balls tightened above her face, and she knew the man was about to come right deep in Imelda's ass. Shifting her head slightly, she took the bag in her mouth and began to suck gently. That must have surprised Jim as he lunged forward, burying himself to the hilt in Imelda and practically roaring for free! The force of her climax obviously sent Imelda over the edge, as she started to shudder above her, but still managed to lock her lips to Beth's clit, making her cry out in yet another orgasm. The three of them rolled apart on the bed, panting heavily, even with smiles on their faces. Beth was amused to hear soft snores coming from Imelda, but she felt full of energy after the vigorous fuck she had just enjoyed. Eventually Beth shifted slightly, surprised to feel a part of Jim pressing against her thigh. 'Is he ready to go again? Damn it! What are non-magicians eating to give them so much energy?' Turning around completely, she smiled at Jim, who was looking at her with an affectionate smile on his face. She started kissing her chest, licking her nipples and making him sigh in pleasure, before moving down her body. She kept going until she was lying completely between his spread legs, her legs hanging over the edge of the bed and her mouth right over his cock. Looking up at him, she gave him a wink and kissed the bulbous head of her erection before licking it, enjoying the mixture of the flavor of his cum and Imelda's juices. She didn't care about pleasing the man, all the women in the Black family were taught to use her mouth from an early age. Her mother smiled that it was the most effective method known to control the men in their lives, and Beth had to admit that the old bitch wasn't entirely wrong. Of course, she was terribly wrong about almost everything else, but in this she was right. Opening her mouth, she took her head into his mouth, sucking quickly before releasing and licking his shaft. She alternated between licking and sucking, taking more and more of him into her mouth until she felt him nudge the back of her throat. She used her tongue on him as she pulled away, before locking her lips around the head and sucking again. Beth ran her tongue over the tip, savoring the dripping pre-cum before releasing it and starting to pay attention to her shaft again. Her hands were stroking her eggs while her mouth was busy, and Jim's moans and sighs of pleasure were only adding to the pleasure she was feeling. Beth had no idea how long she'd been sucking him off, but a part of her was aware that he lasted a lot longer than Talion had, even at her best. Giving a mental two-finger salute to her no longer mourning husband, Beth took a deep breath through her nose and shifted slightly to take Jim to her mouth and throat, drawing a shocked gasp from the man as he suddenly swelled and she felt him throb. when jets of sperm exploded from his penis. She pulled back, swallowing, to allow his seed to land in her open mouth before moving down her tongue and down her throat. Beth felt a burst of satisfaction at the stunned look on his face as he finished swallowing. Jim fell back onto the bed panting as she licked his softened, clean cock, placing a soft kiss on the head before sliding off the bed and putting her feet on the floor. She looked at Imelda, who had somehow managed to sleep through her efforts and shook her head, unable to believe the woman was exhausted. Beth has never felt so full of energy! Smiling at Jim, who seemed to have caught his breath, she said, "I think I need a shower after all this, would you like to join me?" Jim looked at her in surprise, before laughing, “You're something else Beth, it absolutely works! But yeah, a shower looks good. ” Leaving Imelda asleep, they soon became happily involved in cleaning each other's bodies, until Jim began to stir again and smiled, "Tell me Beth, have you ever been molested in the shower?" She froze for a moment, before shaking her head. "No, I can't say yes, but please be careful, it was years since no one took me there. ” Jim winked at her. "Really? I'm shocked, if I were dating a woman with an ass like yours, I couldn't leave it alone! Hell, it's even better than my wife's ass and it has the best I've ever seen before this one night! " Beth couldn't help it, she actually laughed, “Really, Jim? Do you have a naked woman in a vulnerable position and are you comparing her to your wife? Interesting concise line you have! ” Jim laughed. "I suppose so, but if you have a way to get in touch with you, I want to see you the next time I'm in town. My wife will be with me on my next trip and she'll want to enjoy your company too!" “Sounds like a fun way to spend the night, and I have some cards in my bag, I'll give you one before we leave. Now I believe you were saying something about my ass? Pulling away from him, Beth squirmed toward him invitingly, bracing her hands on the shower wall. Despite her confident tone, Beth is nervous about what's about to happen, she just got a man up her ass, and Alfredo and Lily get her so turned on right away that she would have had sex for days if they wanted her to! She felt him move closer to her and ran his hands over her ass, sliding a finger between her cheeks and starting to rub her hole tighter. She tried to relax as much as she could, but Jim surprised her by reaching out and placing his other hand right on her pussy, running his fingers along her lips and sliding his fingers inside her. She was so focused on the pleasurable feelings he was causing that it was a shock when his other fingertip slapped her ass. Before she could tense up, her pussy fingers began to work her magic and she leaned forward, opening her legs wider to give him easier access. When he put his finger inside her, she was starting to relax and enjoy the sensation, letting him add another finger and moving both of them around her, stretching her. When he worked a third finger inside her, the pressure was turning to pleasure and she was pushing her ass against him, pulling his fingers deeper inside her. All the while the fingers of his other hand were playing with her pussy, making her feel deliciously full, especially when his thumb brushed her clit, shooting little explosions of pleasure through her body. She was so focused she barely registered that he had all four fingers pumping her ass until they were pulled out, leaving her feeling empty, making her moan in annoyance. Her fingers were soon replaced by her cock head, and Beth was surprised not to feel pain when he entered her! He stayed still for a moment, which gave her time to adjust, before removing his hand from her pussy. She was dimly aware that he was washing his hands under the water that was still running over them before he began stroking her breasts and playing with her nipples, eliciting a moan from her throat. He was kissing the back of her neck and shoulders as her cock slowly filled her, her hands doing wonderful things on her breasts as he touched parts of her that had never been touched before. By the time he started to pump inside her, any discomfort had passed, replaced by a delicious fullness and she was moving back against him, their skins slapping together as the water ran over her bodies. Jim started fingering her pussy again as he filled her ass, and the feelings from the front and back were quickly becoming overwhelming and she savored the sensations inside her until he hit the right spot and she screamed another shattering climax, falling forward against the tile shower wall, shuddering as the waves churned her body and set off fireworks behind her eyes! That was just the first of many orgasms she experienced as he fucked her firmly in her ass until he finally grunted and she felt him get even bigger inside her, before flooding her tight passage. This triggered another climax and, shivering, her arms dropped to her sides, leaving her leaning against the wall, struggling to keep her feet. When she felt him slipping out of her, she managed to look up at him and smile wearily. "Wow! That was amazing!" Jim was also leaning against the back of the shower and smiled at her, “Wow, and it's amazing! But I think I'm really fucked up, this hasn't happened in years! ” He shook his head in amusement. “But it was worth it. I'll definitely want to see you again. Hell, if you can cook, I'd be willing to become a bigamist! My wife is a wonderful woman, but she can't cook to save her life!” She looked at him for a second, unable to believe he actually said that, and he started to laugh, "Actually Virginia is an amazing cook and although she's always open to having another girl in our bed, she doesn't want to. share permanently.” Beth laughed, deciding to play along. "Too bad, because I'm an excellent cook. Maybe I should try to convince you?" Jim blinked at her before laughing again. "You're a cheeky, naughty woman, aren't you? And I admit, I'd love to see you try to convince her, but that's talk for another time, preferably when we're all dressed and not exhausted in a hotel room shower." When the two of them finished drying off and went back to their room, it was almost 5:00 in the morning and Imelda was stirring. The other woman acted slightly disconcerted at having missed the rest of the fun, but had to admit that she was exhausted from her previous activities and went to take a quick shower on her own. When Imelda left the room, Beth took one of her cards and Jim put it in his wallet before handing her another large stack of pound notes as a tip. She stuffed them in her purse and was just finishing up fixing her face and brushing her hair when Imelda left. With one last smile at Jim, the two left the room and walked back to the lobby, where the other women looked equally disheveled and equally content. The girls smiled when they saw Beth, but said nothing until they got back to Gordon Manor. Beth submitted to the playful interrogation in good spirits, she still felt too good about the wonderful night of sex to let herself be bothered by anything, and she went over everything from the moment Imelda fell asleep in detail. She didn't mention Jim's offer to see her again or the tip he'd given her, however, because she knew it wouldn't go down well with Imelda. Eventually, she returned to Wilkinson Manor and asked her imp to prepare her a bath so she could soak in the soothing oils and reminisce about the night before. While the goblins prepared the bath, she opened her purse to count the money Jim had given her. She almost passed out when she saw that there was another 2,000 pounds in there! With the initial payment, she had 900 gold coins! She only needed three hundred more Galleons to pay what she owed the dwarves and several nights to collect them. With a happy smile, she took off her dress and headed for the shower. While she was soaking wet, she wondered why it didn't bother her that she'd basically become a whore, considering she'd always been taught that an Azulla daughter was better than that. She snorted at the thought. Being a proper daughter had seen her trapped in a miserable marriage for 20 years and close to misery! If being a whore kept a roof over her head and the comforts of life, not to mention more orgasms in one night than she'd experienced in many years of marriage, she'd be a whore with no regrets! After getting something to eat and falling into bed, Beth slept for several hours, having some pleasant dreams. When she woke up, she flooded Imelda and made plans to go back to the hotel that night. ~xXx~ September 25th... Beth finally succumbed to exhaustion after Frank got out of her ass and barely remembered being helped into the shower to rinse. When she was dry, she stumbled back to bed and was soon snoring softly. When she woke up a few hours later, she looked around the room and saw Frank sitting in one of the chairs, Melissa kneeling between his legs sucking his cock. When he felt her eyes on him, he looked up and smiled at her, before leaning back and letting the younger blonde do her job. Beth watched in fascination the way Melissa sometimes stopped and reached out to wrap her breasts around Frank's cock, letting him fuck her breasts for a few seconds before taking him back to her mouth. She could tell by the sounds Frank was making that he was close to coming, and wondered if he was going to paint Melissa's chest the way he'd done her? Apparently not, because she heard him tell Melissa to back off and close her eyes, which she did. Beth watched as Frank stroked her cock and pointed at Melissa's face, shooting jets of hot semen into her closed eyes and nose, running down her face and reaching her mouth and chin. Beth was surprised to see that Melissa wasn't opposed to getting a facial, but Frank seemed to be able to get women to do things they wouldn't normally do. Hell, he even got her to suck him after he pissed her off the first time they were together! She got out of bed and walked over to them both, smiling at Frank as she helped Melissa to her feet and led her to the bathroom to wipe her face so she could see again. There wasn't a lot of conversation between the two women, Melissa actually looked fucking drunk, which wasn't common for her, she usually had more stamina than that. After cleaning herself up, Beth helped her back into the bedroom and saw that Frank had dressed. Looking at the clock on the wall, she saw that it was nearly five in the morning, so they needed to get moving. Awakening Imelda, Anneth, and the others, they were soon mended and dressed, laughing as they walked out the door. The door closed behind them and Frank continued to dress, a satisfied smile on his face as the other three men exited the other rooms, finishing dressing. A few minutes later, the phone rang and Frank answered. Listening, he smirked and waved a thumbs-up at the other men before hanging up the phone. Rubbing the wedding band on her finger, her features changed and Wendell Holloway's messy black hair and glittering golden eyes were looking at the others. Neville, whom Beth had called Jim on a few different nights, laughed when the glamor was removed and said, "Beth is as excited as ever, isn't she?" Wendell laughed and nodded. "This is Neville, this is she! Hell, as soon as we have our meeting with them and let them know who they're working for now, I'm going to ask them to spend time with Elsa. Lady Holloway is really looking forward to enjoying Beth's language , as well as the Guzman women, and she was quite irritated that the glamor wouldn't stop her aura from leaking." Patrick looked at him, adjusting the eye patch over his ruined eye. "Of course, sex professor, go ahead and throw it in your face that you're married to a bloody bloody succubus, why not? You know how hard I had to apologize to Charity when her aura affected me last time that we all got together? I love my wife, but I'm just human, not a superhuman like the three of you!" The fourth member of the group smiled at him sympathetically. "Sorry, but we can't avoid the fact that Dragons chose us more than you could avoid being chosen by the dog. Dragon forms are useful for many things, but they have their drawbacks, that's for sure." Patrick nodded. "I know, Arthur, I know, but it came in handy when someone tried to hit you in the graveyard. I'm glad you were able to capture him alive, it made it so much easier to get revenge for sure!" Arthur chuckled: "And Long Ling was very happy that we all came back in one piece as well." As they talked, Patrick opened a hidden door and rewound the three VCR machines before ejecting the tapes and placing them in their cases. “If any of them have trouble working for us, these tapes should convince them quickly. But none of them are stupid, having the sanction of the Hotel owners would give them much more protection than just their wands." He quickly shook his head. "Charity really wants to be with the three younger girls for one night, she says she should get a spanking or two because of how they treated their people at Bella Noche. Can't say I blame her. If they had taken Non-Magic Studies seriously, they might not have had the problems they had the first few times they were here and we had to cover everything before anyone noticed." Wendell shrugged. "Everything went well, if we hadn't been warned about the three girls being here that first night, we would never have made it this far in our plans. But we can talk about this later, I really want to go home to fuck my Succubus wife!" " With a mutter of hate, the four men disappear, leaving the room completely empty, until the next time the owners want to have a private party. ~xXx~ The door closed behind them and Frank continued to dress, a satisfied smile on his face as the other three men exited the other rooms, finishing dressing. A few minutes later, the phone rang and Frank answered. Listening, he smirked and waved a thumbs-up at the other men before hanging up the phone. Rubbing the wedding band on her finger, her features changed and Wendell Holloway's messy black hair and glittering golden eyes were looking at the others. Neville, whom Beth had called Jim on a few different nights, laughed when the glamor was removed and said, "Beth is as excited as ever, isn't she?" Wendell laughed and nodded. "This is Neville, this is she! Hell, as soon as we have our meeting with them and let them know who they're working for now, I'm going to ask them to spend time with Elsa. Lady Holloway is really looking forward to enjoying Beth's language , as well as the Guzman women, and she was quite irritated that the glamor wouldn't stop her aura from leaking." Patrick looked at him, adjusting the eye patch over his ruined eye. "Of course, sex professor, go ahead and throw it in your face that you're married to a bloody bloody succubus, why not? You know how hard I had to apologize to Charity when her aura affected me last time that we all got together? I love my wife, but I'm just human, not a superhuman like the three of you!" The fourth member of the group smiled at him sympathetically. "Sorry, but we can't avoid the fact that Dragons chose us more than you could avoid being chosen by the dog. Dragon forms are useful for many things, but they have their drawbacks, that's for sure." Patrick nodded. "I know, Arthur, I know, but it came in handy when someone tried to hit you in the graveyard. I'm glad you were able to capture him alive, it made it so much easier to get revenge for sure!" Arthur chuckled: "And Long Ling was very happy that we all came back in one piece as well." Viktor snorted. "She wasn't the only one, Rose nearly ripped my clothes off in front of everyone." The other chuckled, remembering how scandalized some of the more serious members of the team were, and Wendell wasn't sure, but he wouldn't be surprised to find that this was why his best friend hadn't received the Head Girl badge his senior year. Not that Rose minded at this point, as she was focused on little Lydia, her and Viktor's first child. They wasted no time after Pendragon was sent to hell to start his family. He really couldn't speak, he was sure he had impregnated Elsa, Andressa, Beatriz and Lilian on the same night when they were celebrating the Dark Lord's final destruction. Fortunately, Andressa had already taken her final exams a year earlier, so none of them were pregnant during a year of exams. Francesca really wasn't happy that so many of her students were pregnant at the same time, but after they killed a Dark Lord she couldn't really say anything. Wendell snorted, shaking his head if even half the stories about the woman were true, she really had no right to say anything about girls with healthy sexual appetites. As they talked, Patrick opened a hidden door and rewound the three VCR machines before ejecting the tapes and placing them in their cases. “If any of them have trouble working for us, these tapes should convince them quickly. But none of them are stupid, having the sanction of the Hotel owners would give them much more protection than just their wands." He quickly shook his head. "Charity really wants to be with the three younger girls for one night, she says she should get a spanking or two because of how they treated their people at Bella Noche. Can't say I blame her. If they had taken Non-Magic Studies seriously, they might not have had the problems they had the first few times they were here and we had to cover everything before anyone noticed." Wendell shrugged. "Everything went well, if we hadn't been warned about the three girls being here that first night, we would never have made it this far in our plans. But we can talk about this later, I really want to go home to fuck my Succubus wife!" " With a mutter of hate, the four men disappear, leaving the room completely empty, until the next time the owners want to have a private party. ~xXx~ Holloway Island With a soft 'Crack' of displaced air, five of them landed on the beach, the afternoon sun casting shadows behind them. Wendell looked at the others and said, "Are you okay, Paddy?" For Patrick, who looked a little tense. The older man grimaced and shook his head. "I will, just give me a minute. Even borrowing some of your power for over ten thousand miles isn't as easy for me as it is for all of you!" Wendell nodded in understanding. "At least we don't all have to go back to New York for a few days so you can rest. I know Andressa and Rose are still working on a way to make it easier for you and Charity to use more of our power." He snorted. "It would be so much easier if we could connect him to the Great Black Dragon, but they don't consider what we're doing important enough, not how to take down the legless idiot before he exposes us to the whole world." Patrick shrugged. "Well, they're right, toppling a bunch of corrupt politicians isn't quite the same as preventing a war with the non-magical world." He straightened up and quickly took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm fine now, let's go see our wives." The other three were quiet as Wendell and his godfather talked, they really weren't as close to Patrick as Wendell, and they knew this was something Wendell had to deal with. However, each placed a hand on his shoulder as he walked into the house, supporting their canine brother. When everyone was inside, they could hear women's laughter in the back of the house, and with a smile, Wendell began to undress, followed by the others as Azn-001 and Azn-927482 appeared to pick up the suits to be cleaned and put on. away. Wendell had just walked out the door and onto the wooden deck when a beautiful blonde, as naked as he was, had her arms around him and he was lowering his face for a kiss. After kissing Elsa, he opened his arms and Andressa, Beatriz and Lilian, flowed into his arms for a kiss of their own. Looking at his brothers, he saw that Shelby, Hannah and Florence were in Neville's arms, while Rose and Viktor were in their arms around Katie and Megan, and Arthur was wrapped up with Long Ling, Bella and Su Li. Patrick and Charity were oblivious to the rest of the world, and Wendell felt a pang of sadness that as close as the two were to the rest of the group, they couldn't be fully a part of it all. Things would have been so much simpler if Patrick had been there in preparation for First Task, the Dragons would have included him, he was sure of that. Putting those regrets aside, there was nothing he could do about it, for now, Wendell turned his attention to his wife and their lovers, who still held him tightly. Elsa smiled at him and said, "So I smell Beth's perfume on you Wendell and on another, which bitch did you like this time?" Her smile matched hers. "It was Melissa Guzman, and I'm really looking forward to meeting her, she really needs to learn how to use her mouth properly! I wasn't sure if she thought my cock was a lollipop or a hose she was trying to suck a sip from, it was just thinking of each one of you that I was able to stand upright, poor girl.” Lilian laughed. "Well, I'm sure between us we can catch up, Wendell, we can't have the conquering hero fall prey to a boring doorknob, can we?" The others laughed, but Elsa pulled away and looked at him carefully: "Husband, you and the others got your release, but I've waited all night, kiss the girls again and then you will be mine!" Wendell looked at her intently and, seeing the need in her eyes, nodded and gave the other three a quick kiss before letting them go. Taking his wife by the hand, he yelled "I'll catch a fly, come back later!" and they started running towards the beach. As they walked away, the others watched first Elsa and then Wendell appear to blur, and in their place were two huge shapes. Andressa smiled as she watched the two Hungarian Horntails rise and fly around each other, their screams almost human to her ears. "I wonder what would happen if Elsa got pregnant in her other form?" Andressa thought. "Would the baby be a dragon or human/succubus like the others?" Nodding. "No, it's probably best not to try to find out, I don't think Elsa would want to give birth to something the size of a dragon's egg." Shrugging, she turned to Neville and the others who were looking at her in horrified fascination. "So Wendell and Elsa will be busy for a few hours, and they'd be annoyed if we started playtime before they finished. That gives you plenty of time to tell us what happened last night." The others looked at Neville, who smiled and began to speak. ~xXx~ As had become routine, all the women gathered at Gordon Manor after leaving the hotel, before heading back to their homes to get some sleep. Imelda had taken some of the money and installed a bath as big as a spa, where they could soak and soothe aching muscles and gossip about their experiences. Of course, as they were, with the exception of Thea Davis, all in the same hotel suite the night before, the conversation was more about what they missed while they were busy with their own partners. Thea's jaw seemed permanently attached to her chest as each of them described what he had done and done to them. Shaking her head, she just muttered, “Shit! And I thought I had a wild night!" Lisa looked up from where she was kissing Anastasia and said, “Oh? You can't just leave it there, mom, what did you do? " The others were equally interested and Thea smiled, leaning back and taking a glass of wine from the tray by the tub and said, "Well, I had a new client last night, I named him John and honestly they can't think of anything more original? But anyway, he and his wife Dora met me at a cafe near the train station. central park, and after we talked a little about what they were looking for, nothing crazy, just the usual couple, with a mess, we took a rental car to their hotel. It was in the car that things got a little crazy because John told Dora to take off her kit and kneel in front of me and use her mouth to make me come. I wasn't going to object to that, obviously, so I leaned back in the seat and pulled on my dress. She wasn't bad, not bad, and my pussy purred well all the way to the hotel. Imelda smiled. "Well that's certainly a way to ensure you're giving them their money's worth for sure! Someone who takes the time to use their mouth on me will always get my 'A Game'!" Thea smiled. "Oh yeah, but it gets even better. When Dora pulled me out, the car was pulling into the hotel garage, which kind of surprised me. I figured we were going out the front door, but John had different plans. So we got in and the car stopped, John went downstairs and told Dora to leave too, leaving her clothes behind! The funny thing is, she didn't even blush, she just climbed off the floor where she was kneeling and got out, and the garage was well lit for anyone who might be there. there you could take a good look at it.” "Kinky." Anneth muttered, a speculative look on her face, making the other women laugh, and Melissa splashing water on her. "Indulge your exhibitionist perversion another time, I want to hear the rest of the story!" Thea reached out and touched Anneth's arm. "Don't feel bad Anneth, I thought exactly the same. But I'm not sure I would be brave enough to act on it. Dora was obviously brave enough, she had a huge smile on her face as she stood beside the car, and I think I even saw her winking at the driver of the car when she caught him staring openmouthed. John didn't bother to say anything, he just smiled at me, and then he moved behind Dora and put leather cuffs on her wrists. thinking this was getting even more interesting because you know i'm always willing to have some fun with bondage! Lisa smiled. "I guess I naturally understand Mom, remember those two who took us to Justine's playroom? I was coming before they even took their cocks!" Elizabeth looked at the younger woman curiously. "Justine? I don't think I heard, what is it?" Tracey's smile got wider. “Oh, it's a club for couples who are into the Dom/sub lifestyle, there's a huge room in the basement that has a bunch of different bondage gear and lockers full of paddles and floggers and all sorts of fun toys! Too bad they were only in town that weekend, I'd love to go back there someday." Thea gave a throaty laugh: "Me too, my dear, me too! But back to the story, after John had handcuffed Dora's wrists behind her, he told the driver he'd see him in the morning and handed her a wad of cash The driver just nodded and walked out of the garage, all of Dora's clothes in the backseat of the car. John started walking to the hotel door and Dora followed. It was as they walked that I noticed Dora was walking a car. a bit strangely and I realized she was using a butt plug!” This time it was Elizabeth who let out a soft moan as she imagined the scene, and then looked around in embarrassment as the others laughed. Thea laughed. "I know 'Beth', I know, I like a hard cock in my ass as much as you do, but I want to finish this story so we can get some breakfast. I need real food after the energy I used last night and this morning.” Elizabeth gave her a quick smile and a nod before sitting down in the tub, putting her arm around Anneth, who was sitting beside her. “Anyway, I'm sure you can imagine how wet the plug got me using the plug, but I didn't have time to really think about it because John opened a door and there was an elevator waiting for us. We went up a few floors, and when the doors opened, we were in the lobby. I really couldn't believe he was going to take Dora through the lobby completely naked, but he did! I was watching Dora for her reactions, but she seemed perfectly happy to be walking around naked, and more than a little excited by the way things looked. “There were a few people in the lobby, but other than a few shocked looks and more than a few smiles, no one said anything, and we crossed to another elevator and took it. John must have noticed my reaction because he turned to me after the doors closed and smiled, saying 'A lot of what's going to happen tonight is because it's Dora's birthday and we're going to fulfill some of her fantasies. ' "Dora was agreeing with what he was saying so I relaxed a bit and followed them out of the elevator when we got to his floor. John led us down the hall to his bedroom and when he opened it I was surprised to see that there were already a lot of people in there. There were six couples in the room, and it was obvious they were a lot like John and Dora because the men were fully dressed while the women were all glued together. I must have choked because John smiled and said that the men were there for Dora. I wasn't supposed to take care of them, although if I was interested we could negotiate a price. I must say I was tempted, some of them looked pretty good!" Anastasia leaned forward. "You're telling us this girl Dora took all six couples! How the hell did she manage to do that? If I weren't a witch, I don't think my body would have taken the beating I got. Hell of an orgasm." She finished with a smirk. This drew giggles from the other women, and the conversation shifted to what they planned for the next day or so, and Elizabeth mentioned that she was planning to take a trip to Lilith's toy box that afternoon to see what new items they had. Anastasia was interested in this, and the two women made plans to leave together for a day of shopping. Of course, Elizabeth was pretty sure the two would eventually experiment on each other, and she had no problem with that idea! A essa altura, todas as mulheres estavam tão limpas e relaxadas quanto podiam, então Imelda sinalizou para os elfos começarem a colocar comida na mesa. Saindo da banheira, demoraram alguns minutos para se enxugar com as toalhas felpudas que os aguardavam e, se houvesse as mãos errantes ocasionais, ninguém reclamaria. Eles vestiram suas vestes e desceram para a sala de jantar, dando água na boca no banquete do café da manhã organizado sob feitiços de aquecimento. Não houve conversa por um tempo, pois todas as mulheres estavam com bastante apetite na noite anterior, mas eventualmente, elas desaceleraram e estavam escolhendo o último de seus cafés da manhã. Foi Imelda quem pegou a conversa mais cedo, e logo eles estavam presenteando Thea com mais detalhes sobre o que haviam feito na noite anterior. Elizabeth sorriu enquanto bebia sua xícara de chá, gostando da conversa que acontecia ao seu redor e adicionando seus próprios comentários. Ela achou divertido imaginar a reação de sua mãe, Druella, ou tia à natureza da conversa. Se ambas aquelas velhas cadelas secas já não estivessem mortas, provavelmente morreriam de choque ouvindo as bruxas puro-sangue discutindo suas posições sexuais favoritas, bem como os méritos relativos dos diferentes homens que as haviam fodido através do colchão na noite anterior! Foi enquanto se vestia para ir para casa que Elizabeth percebeu que tinha se divertido muito mais nos últimos meses do que em todos os anos em que esteve casada com Talion. Não era apenas o sexo, embora fosse certamente um bônus extremamente agradável, mas o fato de que todas essas mulheres, mesmo as mais jovens, eram suas amigas agora. Ela tinha muita experiência com lacaios e bajuladores que cresceram como filha dos Azullas, e depois como Lady Wilkinson, mas ela estava bem ciente de que qualquer uma das mulheres que se juntaram a ela teria felizmente enfiado uma faca em suas costas, ao menos sinal de fraqueza. Era muito bom não ter que se preocupar com isso com aquelas mulheres, e ela não mudaria isso por nada no mundo! ~ xXx ~

Chapter 3 - Epilogue

It was seconds to midnight. Trovar was on his way back to Jorrvaskir from Honningbrew Meadery. He was haply drunk, rolling from one side of the road to the other, humming a tune. Suddenly, a guard stepped out of the shadows and halted him. “With respect Companion” he said. “I ask that you and your friends muzzle that dog of yours. The howling coming from Jorrvaskir is getting out of hand!”

Chapter 0 - Lord Azulla

Lord Azula Se Wendell Holloway deseja se tornar Lorde Azulla, há apenas uma bruxa que pode atender a todos os critérios para se tornar Lady Azulla, a maravilhosa Melissa Guzman. ~ xXx ~ Havia poucos lugares no mundo que Elizabeth apreciava mais do que um belo jovem abaixo dela enquanto os cavalgava com força. Entre os jovens que ela recebeu nos anos desde seu rompimento "amigável" com seu ex-marido, Talion Wilkinson, nenhum agradou mais a sua imaginação travessa como o jovem Wendell Holloway. Havia muitos motivos pelos quais Holloway era preferível a todos os outros. Era o poder que ele detinha; a maioria das bruxas, na verdade a maioria das mulheres, era atraída pela força, e Wendell a exercia tanto quanto qualquer outra pessoa em seu mundo, tanto mágica quanto politicamente. Além disso, havia o fato de que o relacionamento dela, tal como era, irritava Vincent sem parar. Ele não odiava Wendell abertamente como odiava quando eram crianças, mas ainda havia muito ressentimento persistente entre os dois jovens, principalmente da parte de Vincent e para Wendell Vincent era apenas uma das muitas moscas irritantes que pairavam ao lado ele. Elizabeth amava seu filho, mas se seu relacionamento com o jovem Holloway aborrecia Vincent, isso era uma pena. Ela havia devotado as duas décadas anteriores de sua vida a Vincent; agora era a hora de se concentrar em si mesma, em aproveitar a própria vida. Wendell era um bom partido por vários motivos e, mesmo sem ele ser quem era, ela ainda receberia muita atenção feminina com base apenas em sua maravilhosa aparência física. Ele era bonito, sem dúvida, a aparência de um menino fofo e adorável deu lugar a um homem bonito e extremamente poderoso em seu corpo de homem de 24 anos, o corpo de alguém que se tornou o mais jovem Chefe de Departamento em muitos gerações e conquistou-o através de trabalho legítimo e árduo, ao invés de usar seu nome e fama para impulsionar sua carreira, como muitos outros fazem hoje. And the Witch Weekly writers who fawn over her glittering golden eyes didn't even know the half. Only those privileged enough to see the lust burning in those golden eyes when Wendell came could truly appreciate his beauty. Elizabeth was not the only witch to have seen in such a state, nor would she be the last; he had been with several witches since the end of his relationship with Arthur Bradford's daughter Shelby some four years earlier, all of them beautiful and all as casual as the one he had with Elizabeth. Elizabeth wasn't looking for a relationship outside of this and neither was he. She was still legally married to Talion and planned to stay that way, and she didn't even rule out the possibility of eventually resuming their relationship. If Wendell dated again or even married, it would be a witch his age. Elizabeth doesn't want to be his girlfriend or his wife; she just wanted to drive her body down over his, feel that big cock inside her and watch his handsome face enjoy it all. "You are close, aren't you?" Elizabeth curiously asked, rocking her hips back and forth and lightly tracing his pecs with her nails, admiring the goose bumps that formed there. "Yes." Wendell said quickly with a moan, though the answer wasn't really necessary. They had fucked often enough that Elizabeth recognized every sign of her by now, and the way his hands squeezed her ass and the look of intense concentration on her face told her everything she needed to know. He was hanging over the edge, and that was fine with her. She was right beside him, and she was going to get there anyway. "Good." Elizabeth muttered teasingly. "Do it then. Just go ahead." Wendell bit his lip, and Elizabeth saw those expressive golden eyes cloud over as he stepped over the edge. Her hips rose from the bed beneath her as he fired his seed into her, and that was all Elizabeth needed to join him in ecstasy. She moaned long and loud as she climaxed. Her apartment was protected for privacy so no one could hear her beyond those walls, but at times like this she wouldn't have minded ending those wars. Let all her neighbors hear the way her young, handsome, powerful, and gifted lover made her scream. "Good?" Elizabeth rolled onto her side beside him. Wendell casually faced Elizabeth with a crooked smile and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "You know the answer to that." Wendell said quickly. "There's a reason I keep coming back here, isn't there?" Elizabeth giggled happily and ran her hand down her back. She never got tired of putting her hands on his body. Most wizards, especially purebloods, don't give much thought to fitness, relying on their wand to do everything for them and relying on the magic of their own bodies. Wendell Holloway was one of the few exceptions to this rule, she assumed thanks to his "fuck the old son of a bitch and broken into" roots; he was even unusually well organized among his co-workers, who were generally in better shape than the average wizard. "What about you? Have fun?" Wendell asked curiously with a slightly raised eyebrow. "Just like there's a reason for you to keep coming back." Elizabeth said quickly. "There's also a reason I keep letting you in." "You kind of remembered that there was something else I came here for this time, right?" Wendell curiously asked with a raised eyebrow. "Apart from the sex, I mean." "Yes of course." Elizabeth said quickly with a nod. "Sex was just a bonus." Elizabeth said softly and rolled away from him and got out of bed. "A very delicious and appreciated bonus." Elizabeth muttered audibly aloud and cast a quick cleaning spell on herself and walked out of her apartment bedroom into the living room, where several pieces of parchment were stacked neatly on the table. She picked them up and carried them to her favorite chair, which she sighed as she sat down. Sex with Wendell was always fun, but it could also always be exhausting. And she bet he'd be ready for another try by the time his real business was over, too. The boy was simply insatiable. Wendell followed her into the living room, having had time to put a dark blue boxer back on. She didn't see the point in dressing again, certain they could fuck her again in no time, but maybe it was good that he at least wore something. It might have been hard for her to concentrate if her cock had been bared to tempt her. "Then?" Wendell asked quickly with a curiously raised eyebrow. "Did you find anything?" "I did." Elizabeth said quickly and looked at the first parchment, though it wasn't really necessary; she knew what she was saying. Three hundred years earlier, the Lord Azulla at the time had a less than ideal heir, a gambling addict, and a chronic drunk. He then married a 'lady of the night', confirming that his parents were right to have doubts about his inheriting control of the family. They didn't want to completely disown him, but they understandably didn't want to have anything to do with an ex-whore becoming the new Lady Azulla after her eldest son inherited it. Fortunately for them, they had a second child and drafted a legal document to make him the true heir to the title of Lord Azulla. In order to do this without totally expelling the eldest from the family, they created a clause that stated that Lord Azulla could name any one of Azulla blood as his heir, even if there was someone who might otherwise inherit the title. However, there were certain conditions attached to the appointment, the major one being that, if such conditions arose, the chosen heir would have to come to an agreement to marry a pureblood witch who met certain other favorable criteria before the 25th The magician's and marriage anniversary must occur within one year of the agreement of the Engagement Contract. The eldest son of the old Lord Azulla had died young and childless, so his younger brother would have become the heir anyway, but the document itself had already been drafted and filed. It was never rewritten or discarded by any of the Lord Azullas who followed him, perhaps because those unique circumstances never affected any of his subsequent generations. Why her idiot considerate brother didn't take care of it, Elizabeth couldn't say, and neither did Wendell, since her godfather had never mentioned any of this to him before he died or in his will. It could have been his usual lack of caution and preparation coming back to hurt him one last time, or he just didn't know it, or he just went "Fuck you all you old bastards!" with his usual attitude. Regardless, his failure meant that it was Wendell's problem to deal with it now, because he'd inherited the Azulla landlord before Patrick's closest blood relative, his twin sister Patricia, which means the old contract affected him directly. He could come to an betrothal agreement with a witch deemed suitable by the terms old Lord Azulla had drawn up in the next few months before his 25th birthday, or he would lose the inheritance and rights that came with being Lord Azulla. "I scrutinized the terms and looked for any witches who met all the criteria." Elizabeth spoke quickly. "But first, why the hell do you think I should help you?" Elizabeth asked quickly and smiled at Wendell and leaned back in her chair. "After all, if you don't fulfill the contract, won't my son become the new Lord Azulla in his place with Patricia dead?" Elizabeth asked curiously, she was teasing him, but she was also testing him. She was still a daughter of Azulla's household, even though she'd been a Wilkinson for nearly three decades, and if he was going to be the new head of the family, she wanted to see how perceptive he was. "You and I both know that Patrick restored Andromeda to the Azulla family lineage in his will." Wendel said, looking bored. "She's the big sister now that Patricia is dead, which means if I give up, the landlord will pass to her and then to Michael when he's considered of legal age or if he's emancipated, and with me being her godfather, I'd have partial control of everything the Azullas own until he's seventeen, and since I'm kind of a surrogate parent to him, he should listen to most of the things I tell him to do without making any complaints, I raise him. well, but he won't be a spoiled brat like many others." "Very good, Wendell." Elizabeth said quickly, nodding at him in approval. He wasn't the idiot Talion or Vincent believed him to be. "Yes, it would be Andromeda and her grandson who would inherit if you refused, so you don't have to worry about Vincent getting what's left of the Azulla fortune." "Besides, I'm already rich with the Holloway heritage and hold the Holloway seat on the Board of Governors." Wendell said casually. "If Andromeda took the place of the Azulla, I have no doubt that more than half of the Lords would be at my side." "I don't doubt." Elizabeth said softly. "All of this raises the question of why you bothered to ask me to look into this contract if you don't need the gold and aren't worried about what's going to happen to it or the seat on the Board of Governors." "Because Patrick wanted me to be his heir." Wendell quickly said with a shrug. "He could have chosen to call Andromeda his heir, but he chose me. I'm not marrying someone who would make me unhappy just to make that happen, but I thought it would be worth investigating this at least." "I see." Elizabeth muttered audibly and rummaged through the pile of parchments and placed a new one on top. "Well, as you requested, I investigated this matter for you. Although there were probably other potential candidates abroad, particularly Russia or Japan, many pureblood heiresses and few heirs." "Yes." Wendell quickly said with a nod. “I would prefer to know at least a little bit about the girl before thinking about it, and the only non-national witches I know are either already trapped in a marriage to someone or are too young for me. the less I would find it all funny and make those old fools lose their hair at the House of Governors sessions." "Well, you're in luck because you won't have to look beyond our borders to find someone who meets all the criteria." Elizabeth said quickly and looked at the parchment, not that there was any reason for that. It wasn't exactly a long list to remember her. "Anneth Harrison fit almost all of these pre-established criteria." Elizabeth spoke softly Wendell scoffed and shook his head immediately. "However, I have an intimate knowledge that casts great doubt on your ability to pass the requirement that the witch remain chaste before the consummation of the marriage." Needless to say, Wendell was talking about Vincent, who was the first to take the girl to bed. Several others followed, especially after the end of the war, when her reputation was destroyed, but Elizabeth was unwilling to judge her for that. "She wouldn't be at the table anyway." Wendell spoke slowly. "If that's the best you can find, I can start writing a letter to Andromeda right away." "Like I said, she came close, but she's not eligible." Elizabeth continued. "There are two witches in the Magical Americas who meet each of the old Lord Azulla's criteria according to my knowledge and research." "Just two?" Wendell curiously asked, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. "I thought there would be at least half a dozen and not just two. "Unfortunately only two." Elizabeth said quickly. "Lord Azulla was very specific and very careful in trying to prevent the Azulla family from going into what he would consider undesirable hands. One of the two witches is Cristina Fordson." Wendell grimaced and Elizabeth smiled. She knew he wouldn't want anything to do with her. This was actually number one on the list. There was only one witch who fit all the terms and might interest Wendell. "The other one is also from her year at Bella Noche, although I don't know how well you've known her. I've known her several times in the last few years since her sister became my daughter-in-law." "Melissa Guzman?" Wendell quickly asked and looked slowly surprised, but Elizabeth detected no sign of disgust. "Yes." Elizabeth said softly. "Any interactions?" "A little." Wendell said calmly and shrugged. "We probably only exchanged a few words during the six years we went to Bella Noche together, but we talk more regularly after school since we both work so close to each other. Nothing important; just small talk here and there, but yeah, we talked. Especially since our simultaneous promotions." "I understand." Elizabeth said quickly. "And given what you know about her, would you agree to a date at the very least?" ~xXx~ "You look lovely, Wendell. If we weren't here on business, I might be tempted to drag you behind the bushes for some quick fun." "And I might be tempted to let you do that." Wendell said happily, smiling at Elizabeth. "But I have a feeling that getting caught having sex behind your bushes might not make the best impression on my possible future in-laws." "What a pity." Elizabeth said with a smile as she walked beside him. "Well, let's go ahead then." Wendell was by no means ready to commit, but was intrigued enough to agree to this visit to Guzman Manor to meet with Melissa and her family. Honestly, he didn't know much about her, except for the little they discussed in their brief conversations when their paths crossed at work. He knew she was drop-dead gorgeous; everyone knew that. Then, as he always did when he was looking for information about something, he turned to Rose. Her best friend had studied Ancient Runes and Arithmancy with Melissa and therefore interacted with her at school much more than he did, so he subtly mentioned her in a conversation prior to this meeting. Rose spoke of her quite well enough; more than he expected, in fact, given her usual interactions at school. She complimented her intelligence on her and also pointed out that he hadn't insulted or bullied her like most of the other members of her dorm. Rose curiously remembered that Melissa had gone to the Yule Ball with Theodore Nott, and that Arlan Arfrain had taken her to the Prott Club Christmas party. He knew that neither of them had gone anywhere, as she hadn't dated either of them and, in fact, she'd never had a boyfriend at school, despite her no shortage of admirers. He was interested in Shelby during the Prott Club party, but he could still clearly remember thinking she looked absolutely stunning in her robes that night. Even Jasper, who usually hated anything that had to do with them just out of prejudiced principles, commented on their big breasts and ass. Melissa Guzman was beautiful back then and she was beautiful now, and Wendell was as fanatical about a pretty face and a sexy body as any guy. He wasn't going to agree to marry her tonight, but at least it was worth meeting her and her family. "Elizabeth! And Lord Holloway! I'm so glad you can join us!" "Evelyn! It's been a long time!" Elizabeth stepped forward to greet Melissa's mother. The two women kissed on the cheek and then Elizabeth turned to him. "Evelyn, Cyrus, allow me to introduce you to the Nameless Head of Department Wendell Holloway, Lord Holloway and provisionally Lord Azulla, pending your future marriage." "Thank you for coming to our house, Lord Holloway." Evelyn Guzman said. She smiled and reached out to him, who took it and pressed his lips to the back of her hand as instructed. She smiled, pleased with her etiquette, and he took the chance to take a look at her. He liked what he saw. Melissa's mother was an extremely attractive woman; a complete MILF as they say. Good looks evidently belonged to the family, because Astoria was also very pretty, too good for people like Vincent Wilkinson… maybe he should charge her a conquest royalty? This left the lord of the family greeting Wendell when he reached the door. Lord Cyrus Guzman gave him a stiff nod. "Lord Holloway." Cyrus said formally. "Welcome to Guzman Manor." Cyrus said and held out his hand and Wendell shook it. "Thanks for receiving me." Wendell said with a small smile. "I'm honored that you're willing to meet me." "We are the ones who are honored that you consider our daughter your future wife." Cyrus said quickly. "Please come in so we can discuss the matter." "Clear." Lord and Lady Guzman ushered their guests into the house proper, and in impeccable timing they had just entered the main hall when a wall distorts like water. Melissa left, which left with much more grace than Wendell. "Sorry for not being here before you arrived." Melissa said quickly. "It's not a problem." Wendell said casually. There was no problem with anything now, as far as he was concerned. Good looks really were in the family, Melissa and her younger sister Astoria had the same long, golden-blond hair and big sky blue eyes as their mother. Astoria was a beauty and he now knew Evelyn was too, but in his honest opinion Melissa was even more beautiful than they were. Many of the boys considered her the most attractive witch in Bella Noche, and with good reason. Aside from the pretty face, and the breasts and ass that drew praise from even Jasper Bradford's notorious hatred and were only more attractive now, she was also considered tall for a woman. Melissa and Astoria shared this in common, both Guzman sisters having the same long, shapely legs and the same hourglass figure. Wendell knew how beautiful she already was. What really caught her attention now was what she was wearing, and he wasn't the only one. "Melissa?" Lady Guzman asked quickly, and she clearly didn't like what she saw. Wendell may not have had a mother growing up, but he heard that tone often enough to know what it meant. "What are you wearing?" "What is not good?" Melissa scrutinized herself critically, and if Wendell hadn't seen the glint of amusement in her blue eyes, he might have believed she was honestly surprised by her mother's objection. "You should wear dress robes." Evelyn said quickly, and it was obvious she was forcing her voice to remain steady. If he hadn't been here, he had a feeling she would have spoken to Melissa very differently. Perhaps the fact that she had come after him was intentional on her part for exactly that reason? "I know I know." Melissa said indifferently. Instead, she wore a tailored women's suit, complete with a jacket, blouse, a reasonably short skirt and heels that did a great job of showing off her already amazing legs. "Sorry I didn't have time to get my device from home." Wendell thought it incredible, but was not surprised that a pureblood lady like Evelyn Guzman had so much trouble with it, especially under the circumstances. It wasn't exactly the sort of thing a witch from a conservative thoroughbred family would wear to a dinner being held to discuss her potential engagement. Then again, he knew how seriously Melissa took her job. Becoming the minister's senior undersecretary at age 25 was quite an impressive feat. Maybe she didn't want a marriage and kids right now, for him or anyone else. "Lucky for you I keep a spare set here just for this occasion." Evelyn said happily. Melissa grimaced and Wendell bit his lip to keep from laughing. "Yeah, lucky me." Melissa said flatly. "It's right next to your old room." Evelyn said quickly, pointing to the stairs. "Go change while we place the guests. We'll be in the dining room when you get back." ~xXx~ "Oh, and our daughter has finally come back. Come sit down so we can get started." Wendell couldn't have been more grateful for Melissa's return, as it meant he managed to escape the conversation about international border regulations that Cyrus pulled on without seeming rude. "I changed as fast as I could." Melissa said quickly walking to the vacant seat across from him. Wendell doubted that was really true, and Evelyn's narrowed eyes showed what she thought of that too. All five people seated at the table knew what they were really going to discuss, but as usual they chatted unimportantly while they ate. The serious matter would wait until after the table was removed. Wendell accepted congratulations on his recent promotion and offered his to Melissa for hers, which attracted what he believed to be the first genuine smile of the night. Elizabeth was overjoyed when she and Evelyn began discussing Astoria's pregnancy, which was news to him and apparently even to Melissa. "It hasn't been publicly announced yet, so don't say anything." Evelyn said quickly, looking directly at her daughter as she spoke. "But Mom, what am I going to discuss on break from work?" Melissa said, her eyes widening. Wendell smiled at her plate as he jabbed a piece of potato onto his fork. "Your sister is pregnant with the Wilkinson family heir." Cyrus quickly told his daughter. He was doing a far worse job of hiding his frustration than his wife. "This is something to be commended, not scoffed at." "You're right." Melissa said casually, shaking her head. "I'm very impressed and I'm sure Vincent is proud of himself too. So far, the only achievement he's been able to master over anyone is 'I'm Talion Wilkinson's son.'" Melissa mimicked Vincent's voice when he said this, and Wendell was shocked at how close it sounded to his real voice. He couldn't help but laugh in response and turned his head away from Guzman's parents so they wouldn't see him. That meant he was looking at Elizabeth, and while she didn't exactly look pleased, she didn't look angry either. Maybe she was used to hearing Melissa insult her son. Elizabeth diverted Vincent and Astoria's conversation to safer topics, and there they remained while the five ate the food the Imp of the Guzmans had prepared. It wasn't until Evelyn had eaten her last bite of steak and put down her knife and fork to clean that Cyrus cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "Thank you for joining us here tonight, Lord Holloway and Lady Wilkinson." He said. "It was our pleasure." Elizabeth said casually. "Wasn't it, Wendell?" "Absolutely." Wendell said calmly with a half smile. "The food was excellent, thank you." Wendell said and he felt really awkward thanking them as they hadn't lifted a finger or made any effort to prepare the meal, but it was the polite thing to say at the time. "Next time, we'll consult you about your favorite foods before we invite you." Evelyn said quickly, smiling at Wendell. Wendell just smiled back. She was obviously assuming the deal would go well. "Now that we've eaten, I propose that we discuss business," said Cyrus, looking directly at Wendell. “We were honored to receive your letter. You believe our Melissa would make a good Lady Holloway and Lady Azulla, and we agreed. I'm sure we can reach an agreement no matter what. I'm prepared to offer you support from the Guzman family, in whatever way we can be best equipped to help you." Wendell knew exactly what he was suggesting. The Guzmanes were a moderately powerful family, but their real strength lay in the size of their vault. His understanding was that Guzman's fortune was equal, if not superior, to the Holloways and the Azullas combined, but they didn't really outdo their three pet Basilisks that were in the Holloway Mountains, and Cyrus was prepared to open that vault and throw in a huge amount. of gold on him if it meant his daughter would become the new Lady of the Holloway and Azulla families. He got the impression that Cyrus intended to come to terms before leaving tonight, but if he did, he would be disappointed. "Sorry about that." Wendell said quickly. "But I'm not really going to agree to any betrothal arrangements tonight." "Not?" Cyrus frowned and looked at Melissa through narrowed eyes. "No, no." Wendell said quickly, waving his hands. "That's not what you're thinking at all. Dinner was lovely, as was your family's company. You really exceeded my expectations." It was true. Well, at least it was true with Melissa. Her parents could take or leave, but he wasn't here to find out whether or not he was compatible with them. "I would be more comfortable courting Melissa before agreeing to anything. That way we can figure out whether we would make a good marriage or not in the time that's left before my deadline." "I think it's a great idea." Melissa said quickly before her father could say anything. "I would be totally against any engagement tonight, but I would be perfectly happy to court you and see where it goes." Melissa said quickly and looked at her father next. "You remember our agreement, don't you? I made you swear you'd get my consent to any engagement you tried to set up for me." "How could I forget? The two engagements I tried to piece together for you earlier fell apart because you found two perfectly respectable wizards unsuitable." Cyrus sighed, realizing that his hopes of naming his eldest daughter with one of the most powerful men in the country that night had not been realized. But neither he nor Melissa openly rejected the possibility of marriage, and a politician like Cyrus Guzman would accept whatever he could get. He looked at Wendell seriously and nodded. "Very well, Lord Holloway. I will allow you to court her before we sign any contracts. But I trust that, in the meantime, you will do nothing to make my daughter less suitable for an engagement contract." ~xXx~ Wendell felt surprisingly nervous as he knocked on Melissa's apartment door the following night. He's been with some beautiful witches over the past few years, but they've all been casual cases. This would be his first genuine date in a long time, and he found himself hoping he wouldn't screw it up. The door quickly opened and Melissa stood in front of him in a red dress that exposed some of her long legs. He took just a moment to admire her sexy body of hers, and when he looked at her, he found her smirking at him. "Right in time." Melissa said quickly in a soft voice. "Decent way to make a first impression, huh Holloway. With how often you were late for Bella Noche, I worried you might keep me waiting." "I'm always on time for the things that interest me." Wendell said quickly..his smile widened. "Well, if you're that worried about it, I think we should get started." Melissa said softly "Take my arm and I will come by your side." Wendell nodded, cleared his throat, and banished his doubts. He placed his hand on the smooth skin of her bare arm and did his best not to show any queasiness as she led him to her date. ~xXx "I wasn't expecting a mundane world restaurant." Wendell said quietly as the waiter at the Greek restaurant in New Town that Melissa had chosen to leave to order. "That's not a complaint, is it?" Melissa curiously asked. "I know you're a half-blood so I didn't think it would be a problem." "It is not." Wendell said quickly. "I'm surprised, that's all." Surprised and intrigued, actually. Last night he had the impression she was far from the typical conservative thoroughbred lady, and she was even more supportive of that thought now. "How did you find this place anyway?" "After Bella Noche I trained as a curse breaker for a few months before I decided to join the Ministry." Melissa said. "This place has become one of my favorites." "Wait what?" Wendell asked quickly, choosing a normal restaurant had been interesting enough, but now it was all but forgotten in favor of this latest revelation. "Were you training to be a curse breaker?" This was not information he expected to hear, and he placed his elbow on the table and leaned in to hear more. "I was." Melissa said quickly, shaking her head. "That's why I didn't waste my time making Potions with Professor Hopkins; I really didn't need it. Breaking curses was fun. There's a thrill, a real sense of adventure and danger to it." "You look like my friend Charlie." Wendell said with a smile. "Charlie Bradford?" Melissa quickly asked, surprising him once again. "Do you know him?" "Yes of course." Melissa said quickly. "I kind of met him during my training here, actually. There are ancient underground vaults under Old Town, so he was around. Good man. Funny too." "He is." Wendell agreed. He would have to ask Charlie what he thought of Melissa Guzman later. "So if you liked breaking curses, why didn't you insist?" "It was fun, but I decided I needed to do my part to help rebuild our society." Melissa said. "So I changed careers and joined the Ministry to try to make things better inside, you know?" "I know." Wendell said, shaking his head. He understood her completely. "I joined for the same reason." "Yes, but you are not normal." Melissa said, smiling at him to take the pain out of his words. "You've already saved everyone by killing that freak; you've done your part. The rest is just you trying to impress people. I mean, really, Head of Department at 24? You're just a show off." "And is this working?" Wendell curiously asked. "Are you feeling impressed?" "Hmm." Melissa took a sip of water as she thought about it, or at least she pretended. "Ask me again after dinner." ~xXx~ Wendell put his fork down on his plate and took another healthy sip of water. She was really starting to affect him. The date was going well; better than he could honestly expect. Melissa wasn't just beautiful; she was witty and fun, and intelligent, and the antithesis of a conservative thoroughbred model wife in many ways. This also seemed to apply to her willingness to tease him, for he was certain that even a woman as open to her desires as Elizabeth would not have been so bold with a pureblood lord who was courting her. The dress had been attractive enough just for the tempting amount of leg it showed, but she'd taken it a step further during dinner. The first time he'd caught a glimpse of her red panties, he'd attributed it to a simple change of fabric as she settled into her chair. The second and third times had made him suspicious, and the fourth had convinced him that it was deliberate on her part. They were now in the 12th flash of lacy red underwear, so there really wasn't room for doubt anymore. Wendell decided that he wanted to solve the mystery of Melissa Guzman, and how she might be eligible for the contract and strict terms set by old Lord Azulla. He performed some wandless magic; nothing that could negatively impact any of the non-magicians in the restaurant. All he wanted was a little privacy so he could ask her the question he wanted without fear that anyone would overhear. She raised her eyebrows at his subtle use of magic but said nothing, apparently realizing he had something she wanted to say. "I have to ask you something." He said. She tilted her head toward him, signaling him to continue. "You're beautiful, you're smart, you're career-oriented, you don't seem to believe the pureblood superiority garbage that so many old families make, and based on what I saw last night, I'd say you're perfectly willing to rebel against your parents' wishes for you, if they get in the way of what you want for yourself." "Sorry, the question is 'why am I so good?'" She said with a small smile on her face. "Because I'm sorry but I don't have an answer for you." "Not exactly." he said, laughing and shaking his head. "But given all of this, and given that you're showing your panties to myself right now, which tells me you're not a prude, I don't understand how you can be eligible to become my Lady Azulla." "Are you asking why I'm still a virgin?" Melissa said, and he nodded. "I was wondering when you would start asking that." She lowered her dress and smoothed it down before straightening in her chair, and as much as Wendell would miss the teasing of her panties, he was eager for her explanation. "Before I went into my fourth year at Bella Noche, my dad sat me down and told me that if he knew I had given my chastity to a boy before signing an engagement contract with that boy, he would disinherit me and name Astoria as your heir." "That's disgusting." said Wendell, shocked. He couldn't imagine making such a threat against his own children, if he ever did, and his already negative opinion of Cyrus Guzman sank even further. Melissa just shrugged, not looking too bothered. "That's how things work in old conservative pureblood families like mine." she said. "It's not that different from old Lord Azulla's clause that's impacting you even now." "Of course, but that was three hundred years ago." He said. "It would be nice if people like your father could join us here in the 21st century." "Well I'm not holding my breath about it." She took a small bite of her food and then looked at him. "Whether he is out of date or not, I had to comply with it, unless I wanted to lose my birthright. So yes, I would have remained chaste even if I was very much not a prude." She reminded him of that by briefly lifting the hem of her dress to give him another glimpse of her red panties. "Couldn't you have had sex discreetly?" he asked. "You're smart enough to make sure you could have found a way to hide this from your parents." She was shaking her head even before he finished his sentence. "It's not possible." She said, "Whenever my father signs me into any betrothal agreement, whether it's with you or some old thoroughbred supremacist, I'll have to go through a medical exam to prove my chastity, just as Astoria did before she could be betrothed to Vincent." "You mean they physically examine you to prove you still have a hymen?" Wendell asked, struggling to believe. "Yes." she confirmed. "Very humiliating from what I heard, although Astoria was so happy to become Lady Wilkinson for some strange reason that it didn't seem to bother her too much." Wendell's first reaction was to ask about using truth potion, but he was not accepted in court because there were ways to beat him and he wasn't entirely trustworthy, "Can't they just cast a spell or something?" he asked. “They probably could, but most thoroughbred families consider hymen confirmation the only accurate and reliable means of proving a witch's virginity beyond any doubt. on examination, he would insist on it. It is a matter of pride and a defense against attacks or slander from opposing families. Besides, I would be very surprised if the examination were not one of the many clauses included in that little surprise that his ancestor Azulla left for you" "The lack of a hymen couldn't be used against you, even if you didn't have sex?" Wendell quickly asked. He might not be an expert on the inner workings of the female body, but he knew enough to know that girls could break their hymen in many ways besides sex. "Like any other pureblood girl who is expected to fulfill such a contract, my sister and I cast certain spells on us shortly after we were born that protect us against any accidental breakage. There is only one way to break it, and that is deliberately through sex." Wendell shook his head. Every time he thought he had adjusted to the wizards and their craziness, they threw something like that at him that showed how much he still didn't understand even after nearly 14 years of living among them. "But it's not that bad." She said, “I'm better off than most girls in my position would be. After all, I was able to convince my father that he needed to get my consent before he could agree to marry someone. tried to fool me with some idiots who didn't like the idea and expected me to be a good thoroughbred housewife who did nothing but babies, I was able to turn that off before it happened." She must have been able to tell he was a little nervous about everything she'd heard, because she snapped her fingers at him. "Don't feel sorry for me." She said, “Like I said, I have it better than most. Most witches in my position would have been locked into a contract with you last night, even if they hated your guts. But I don't. it's going to be because I've decided you deserve it." "I guess I'll have to work hard to prove myself worthy then," he said, smiling at her. The serious mood was gone now that the story had been told, and he had a feeling she was just as happy about it as he was. "Yes you will." She said, She gave him a wink as she pulled out her wand and carefully undo the privacy protections he'd put in place to keep anyone from noticing her desk. She caught her server's attention and gestured for him to come closer. "But first: drinks!" ~xXx~ "I had so much fun tonight," said Melissa. Wendell was impressed by how little her voice was slurred, because she had been there with him for a beer, and he knew how drunk he felt. "Me either." He said. He really did. Although he was no stranger to female companionship after several years of casual dating, this was different. He hadn't felt a genuine attraction to someone like that, something that went beyond mere physical lust and lust since Shelby. That had been a boy's fantasy, a young man who was just beginning to learn about women. What he felt for Melissa was a more mature, adult kind of attraction. He wouldn't call it love yet, and he wasn't ready to suggest they sign an engagement contract, she would probably punch him if he did, but he knew for sure he didn't want this to be the last date they went. . He walked her to her apartment door, ready to catch her if she stumbled. Her walking was stable, however, if anyone had seen her walking, he wouldn't have suspected she drank as much as she actually drank. She turned to him when she was outside her door. "You did a good job of proving yourself worthy tonight, Wendell Holloway." She said, "A very good job." "Does this mean I have a second date?" Wendell asked, smiling. He was already pretty confident about it, but he wanted to lock it up before he left her tonight. "A second date?" Melissa said, tilting her head at him. Her eyes took a deliberate look at her body, stopping at the crotch of his pants, and she licked her lips. "Who said the first one is over?" She grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him toward him, and he came willingly. He moved to kiss her, but her own lips came forward to meet him at the same time. She didn't need to stand on tiptoe and he didn't need to bend down; she was only a few inches shorter than he was, and her heels made her the perfect height for both of them to dive right in. Her lips tasted like cherries, and a low, rumbling growl rose from her throat. What else could Wendell do but deepen the kiss? Her lips parted for him, and he moaned into her mouth. He pushed her back until she knocked on his apartment door with a thud. She moaned and his hands, which were hugging him against her, began to explore. She went down his back and grabbed two fistfuls of his ass through his pants. Figuring she would be more than okay if he tried to feel alone, he rubbed her legs a little, taking the chance to get his hands on those long legs he'd been admiring all night. Then he upped the ante by going up and rubbing her ass through her dress. It was as soft and flexible as it looked. He would have loved to have taken this much further, and everything about her body language and the delicious noises she was making told him she would too. But they couldn't, and not because they were making out outside where anyone could see them. This was a problem that could have been solved quite easily, but the contract that hung over their heads was not so easily solved. Unless Melissa was willing to throw away her inheritance, that was the most they could do right now. Wendell pulled away with more than a little regret, and Melissa sighed and let the back of her head fall back against the door. "I have a meeting tomorrow, but what do you think about the next day?" he asked. Are you free for dinner? " "Yes." Melissa took a deep breath. "Next time you can choose." He nodded, they set a specific time for the next meeting and said their goodbyes. Wendell watched the door close behind her and stood there looking at it for several seconds before turning away. He wasn't sure where exactly this was going, whether or not they were sure of their future and their feelings for each other that they would really want to agree to an engagement in the two months he left before the deadline, if he wanted to. become Lord Azulla. Melissa quickly proved to be unpredictable, so who knew what would happen next? He just knew he was eager to find out. ~xXx~ "I think we need to talk about what's frustrating you right now." "Which?" Wendell shook his head quickly. "I'm not frustrated. I'm happy. I'm looking forward to each of our meetings." In fact, the past month has been one of the best in Wendell's life, despite the additional workload and stress that came with his promotion to Head of Department. He had genuinely started to fall in love with this woman. Was he ready to propose marriage? Maybe not, but the more time he spent with her, the easier it became to imagine her as a permanent fixture in her life. "Me either." Melissa said, smiling at him from across the private table in the new restaurant that had just opened in Diagon Alley. "The last month has been great. But I know it's been frustrating for you too." "Yes." Wendell agreed. There was no point in denying the truth in that statement, especially since she just couldn't resist teasing him with peeks at whatever pair of panties she was wearing that night. "But it was worth it. I'm enjoying hanging out with you and getting to know you. I can take care of the rest." "That's what I wanted to talk about," said Melissa. "It's just as frustrating for me as it is for you. Probably more, since I've had to remain a virgin all this time. You at least had the freedom to have sex with other witches." "I really didn't think about it." He said. Melissa was a beautiful 25 year old virgin who was very flirty and playful; he couldn't even imagine how turned on she must be right now. "If you've made it through all these years, I'm sure I can last a little longer while we figure out where this is going." "I think you could too." said Melissa. "You're stubborn and determined enough. But why the hell should you? I'm the one stuck in my celibacy. You're free to fuck whoever you want. Like Elizabeth, for example." "Not." he said, shaking his head. He didn't bother to deny that he'd fucked Elizabeth; they had never discussed it, but it wasn't exactly a secret. "I won't do this to you." "That's cute, but seriously, I really don't care." said Melissa. “If our roles were reversed and I was the only one free to go have a night of stupid fun while you had to keep that dick of yours covered, you could bet I'd be going out and riding some cute guy like that as soon as this date was over. " "You are serious?" Wendell asked. "Won't you regret it later?" He was extremely tempted to accept her offer and fuck Elizabeth, who he hadn't taken to his bed since his first meeting with Melissa. He wouldn't do that unless he was sure it wouldn't hurt his growing relationship with Melissa. He wouldn't trade it for anything. "I'm serious." Melissa said, smiling. "Go. Fuck her." ~xXx~ If Wendell had been thinking with his head instead of his dick, he might have bothered trying to get in touch with Elizabeth to let her know he was coming. But a month of exciting unrewarded encounters with Melissa at the end of the night had rid him of his ability to think logically, so he simply went to her house in the designated area and sought to find her. She wasn't in the kitchen or the living room, so he headed for her bedroom. Elizabeth was in her room, but it was only when he opened the door that he discovered she wasn't alone. Elizabeth was naked and on her knees on the floor, sucking on Arlan Arfrain Wendell didn't even blink. He wasn't angry or jealous or anything like that. It wasn't like he loved Elizabeth or they had some kind of exclusive relationship before he even started dating Melissa. He had several other partners over the course of his time with Elizabeth, and he never had any illusions about him being the only man she turned to when she wanted her needs met. "Get out." Wendell said calmly. Blaise shivered in surprise, and Elizabeth opened her eyes and pulled away from Blaise to look at Wendell speculatively. "What the hell are you doing here, Holloway?!" Blaise hissed. "What kind of wizard breaks into a house without warning where he's not wanted?!" "I came here unannounced; you're right about that." He said. "But, both of us, I think you'll find it's you who isn't wanted here now. Not anymore." He glanced at Elizabeth, who was getting up, and Blaise's eyes went to the owner of the apartment as well. "Elizabeth, send that rude wizard excuse away!" Blaise demanded. She looked at Blaise and gave him a slight smile. "You can see for yourself, Blaise." She said, The other man's jaw dropped, and he looked back and forth between Wendell and Elizabeth in disbelief. "You can not be serious." he muttered indignantly. He grabbed her clothes and left the room with as much dignity as he had left her. Eendell had already dismissed him from his mind and focused exclusively on Elizabeth before he even left the room. "I'm surprised to see you here, Wendell." said Elizabeth. She looked completely casual, not allowing her sudden appearance, her complete nudity or the fact that he'd surprised her by sucking another wizard to affect her. "Things didn't work out between you and Melissa after all?" "No, things are really great with Melissa." he said, shaking his head. "I just had another date with her tonight, actually. I walked her to her apartment door and then came straight here." Elizabeth's eyes narrowed and, belatedly, he realized that her statement could mean something she didn't. "I came with her encouragement." he said quickly before she could question her motives. "Same?" Elizabeth arched a blond eyebrow. "Melissa encouraged you to come and pay me a visit after your date?" "She did." he said, shaking his head. "And when she did that, did she have any idea we were getting laid?" "Of course she did." He didn't ogle her beautiful naked body and instead looked directly into her eyes so she could see he was serious. "It was her idea. She said she would do the same thing if she were in my shoes." Elizabeth relaxed and smiled as she accepted the truth of her words. "I think her exact words were 'sex her'." "Well then what are you waiting for?" she asked. "Take off those clothes, come here and fuck me to death." She pulled away from him and walked towards her bed, and he watched her ass sway from side to side. Damn, he missed that ass! He undressed in a hurry, stripping off his pants and boxers as quickly as he could and unbuttoning his shirt impatiently. When he removed the last piece of clothing and turned his attention to her, Elizabeth was on her knees on the bed, her back to him. She swung her ass towards him. "Come on then." She said, "You've already pursued my entertainment earlier in the evening. You owe it to me to take his place and make sure I'm satisfied." "You and I both know Zabini would never be able to satisfy you like me." He said. It was an arrogant thing to say, but he really believed it, and she didn't disagree with him. She had sent Zabini away very quickly after Wendell arrived. "Maybe yes, maybe no." She said, "It's been so long since you've visited me that I'm not sure my memory of your talent is accurate or my brain has exaggerated what you can do." "I guess I'll have to remind her then." he said as he walked over and joined her on the bed. He interpreted her comment as the challenge it was, and he wasn't going to leave it unanswered. He got into position behind her, gave her ass a hard smack that made her cry out and then pressed his hips forward, sliding his cock inside her. He'd been in a semi-aroused state for the better part of the night, which was a common occurrence whenever he went out on a date with Melissa. Until tonight he'd had no choice but to go home alone and try to get whatever relief he could from his own hands after the date was over, but now he's finally been able to put his sexual energy to much more satisfying use. "Yes, that's it!" Elizabeth said when he entered her. "Oh, I see my mind wasn't playing tricks on me after all! You really are as big as I remembered! But do you remember how to use you?" Wendell placed his hands on her hips, stepped back and pushed hard. His hips slapped against her ass loudly and she gasped as his cock filled her. "Ah yes!" she cried. "Merlin, this is so big! I can't believe you made me go a whole month without that nice big cock!" "Sorry my love life bothered you." he said, pausing to give her another smack on the ass with his palm. "I promise I will make it up to you, right here and now." Wendell and Elizabeth did not make love. It wasn't what either of them wanted from each other, now or ever. She didn't want him to whisper terms of endearment to her, treat her kindly, or profess his undying love for her. She wanted him to fuck her and fuck her hard, and that's exactly what he wanted to do. This had never been about anything but fucking; two people who found each other attractive, had healthy sexual appetites – and were compatible with each other in the bedroom. She would not be his wife or mother to his children; he didn't love her and he never would. But he loved having sex with her. He loved her body, loved to fuck her as hard as he wanted and hear her moan in every bit. Women who were able to accompany him into the bedroom were a rare breed in Wendell's experience, and as long as he could do so, he would enjoy this gift. Elizabeth had commented on being deprived of it for so long, and he also didn't know how he got through a month without it. At least she had others to turn to for relief, others like Zabini. Even if they couldn't make her feel as good as he could, it was still better than nothing, better than having to rely on masturbation after every teasing encounter he'd had with Melissa. "Ah, ah, ah!" Elizabeth gasped with each thrust of her hips. "I can't, ah, remember the last time you took me this hard! I'm not sure if it's because you missed it or because, ah, m-because Melissa made you so horny!" Wendell didn't slow the pace or strength of his fuck to consider answering her, but he knew it was a combination of both. "Whatever it is, I don't care! Just keep fucking me like this!" The last month of celibacy while dating Melissa was the longest Wendell had been without sex for a few years, and he was determined to enjoy the simple pleasures he now realized he'd taken for granted for so long. He never wanted to forget the feeling of sliding his cock back and forth inside Elizabeth's pussy, or the sound of his balls slapping against her ass every time he thrust inside her. Never again would he forget the feel of her breasts in her hands when he reached under her body to squeeze them and play with them, or the bed creaking under them as he fucked her, standing as proof of how hard he was hitting her. And maybe most of all he didn't want to forget how Elizabeth Wilkinson sounded when she was being fucked the way she liked it. "Yes Wendell!" she screamed. "Merlin, yes! Give it to me! Oh, how I missed it!" "Nobody fucks you like me, does they?" he asked as he continued to plow it with all her strength. "Not!" she screamed. "No one else comes close!" "You never come as hard as when you're with me, do you?" "Not!" She whimpered. "Never!" Wendell ran his hands over Elizabeth's back and ass, admiring her sexy form as he fucked her and listened to her moan and moan and scream. He didn't bother to check if Zabini had really left the apartment or was still lurking, and personally he didn't care much about that. A part of him really hoped the other man had stayed. Let him hear how Elizabeth sounded when she really was getting what she needed! The previous month of pent-up frustration had fueled the strength of Wendell's fuck and given him the strength to fuck Elizabeth as hard as he'd probably done before, but he wasn't thinking too much about Melissa right now. He was here because he couldn't be with her, at least not yet, but he wasn't imagining his beautiful daughter Guzman underneath him as he fucked Elizabeth. It would be a disservice to them both if he tried to pretend he was screwing Melissa right now. Maybe he would get a chance to do this to her someday, and he was sure it would be amazing if he did. But tonight wasn't about her, or at least it hadn't been since the end of the date. She had made him nervous all night, and now his night was being spent making up for lost time with Elizabeth. They had a month 'It's the value of lost sexual opportunities to make up for. He wasn't sure if he could make up for it all with this rough fuck, but he was doing his best to try. He knew her body well enough to know that the simple rough fuck would have been enough to make Elizabeth come soon; she lived for an intense fuck like this. But after having gone so long without sharing his bed, he found himself wanting to do everything he could to make this moment as special to her as he could, which is why he reached between her legs and guided his index finger to her clitoris. "Ohhhhhh!" Elizabeth's reaction was immediate. Her clit was extremely sensitive, which is why he usually stayed away from it and if he rubbed or licked it he kept it until she was almost done, otherwise he risked breaking her before. Sure enough, he just rubbed it with his finger. for about ten to twenty seconds before her body trembled, she gripped the pillow with both hands and screamed at the top of her lungs. Under normal circumstances, Wendell might have intended to go on for a few more minutes, but after having gone a month without the pleasures of sex with her or anyone else, he didn't have the patience or even the energy to hold back in the least. This was pure, unrestrained, wild fuck, and Wendell couldn't see anything but the urge to thrust his cock into this sexy older woman as hard, as deep and as fast as he could. There was no time to worry about staying or missing her, not now, not when he was finally having sex again for the first time in a month, but it might as well have gone on forever as far as he was concerned. Elizabeth's orgasm was gone, but she wasn't letting herself completely cool off yet. She apparently wanted to be a part of her to make his orgasm as explosive as hers, because she planted her hands flat on the bed and thrust her hips back to meet him, making the last twelve thrusts the hottest of all. Wendell grunted, feeling his end coming, and pulled his cock out of her. He knew Elizabeth was protected and there was no risk of pregnancy if he came inside her; she gave him express permission to end up in her pussy anytime he wanted. Normally he took full advantage of that access, but tonight he felt like marking her body with his seed instead. He aimed his cock at her and sprayed his semen down her lower back and up to her ass cheeks. She made a small noise in the back of her throat, and he wasn't sure if she was disappointed that he'd chosen to withdraw, happy to feel his cum in her body, or just overjoyed after their first time together in a month to take care of. She looked good with his sperm coating her body. He let him stay right where he was for a minute or two, sitting down on his knees and admiring her handiwork after she fell to her stomach. Eventually she would want to roll over onto her back, though, and there was no point in messing up the bed. He took his wand out of his pants and wiped it with magic. "Thanks for that." she said, sighing and rolling onto her back. She stretched her arms above her head and smiled as she stared up at the ceiling. "I thought it was fair." He said. "I made the mess so I better clean it up." "That's not what I meant." she said, looking at him. "Well, that too I suppose. But I was actually referring to the excellent fuck you just gave me. You were right, you know." "Was I? About what?" He had a very good idea, but he wanted to hear her say it. "Nobody fucks me like you." She said, “I'm picky about who I allow in my bed, and even more picky about who gets invited back. Blaise has been here so many times I've put him in the wards, which should tell you my opinion of him. I couldn't send him away quickly enough." "Because he's not good enough." said Wendell, feeling rather smug. "He's good enough." she said, shaking her head. " "And don't forget about that." he provoked. The alpha male inside him puffed out his chest at her praise. "Believe me, I won't." She said, "I suppose I should write Melissa a letter of gratitude for encouraging her to pay me a visit. Would she like such a gesture?" "I have a feeling that it is." He said. "Knowing her, she would probably touch herself while she thought about it." "Hmm." Elizabeth frowned. "Poor thing; I can't imagine how repressed she must be, having gone so long without knowing a man's touch. And it's probably even harder now that she's been spending so much time with a man as inspiring as you." "Maybe she doesn't have to wait much longer." Wendell said. He shrugged at Elizabeth's look of interest. "We're not at that point, but who knows? I'm enjoying meeting her, even though my dick is usually begging to be released from her prison by the time I walk her to her door." "Well, you won't have that specific problem anymore." Elizabeth promised. "Go and enjoy the company of the lovely Miss Guzman, and whenever you want to release the tension she creates, my bed is always open for you. Don't forget that." "I will not." he said, shaking his head. Now that he had Melissa's permission to do so, he had a feeling he would come here as often as before. If his immediate future would involve fun nights getting to know Melissa and satisfying nights trying to fuck Elizabeth into a stupor, he could think of far worse arrangements. "Just do me a favor and call first, okay?" she asked. "Clear," he agreed. "Don't you want me to humiliate any of your other lovers like I did Blaise tonight?" "It's not them I'm worried about." She said, "Vincent might know about our deal, but knowing about it and being here when you show up unannounced with your hard-on and your pants are two very different things." ~xXx~ "So are you going to Elizabeth's house tonight?" Melissa asked, coming out of the kitchen and handing Wendell a glass of wine. The question was asked without an ounce of jealousy, but it reminded Wendell of the unconventional situation in which he found himself. Dating a woman, taking her back to the apartment, and then screwing someone else at the end of the night wasn't how he'd imagined any dating going, but it was her reality and it had been for the last month. The fact that he did this with the full knowledge and approval of both women was perhaps even more unconventional, but in his strange way it worked for them. "No, not tonight." he said, taking a sip of his wine and sitting down on the couch. "Oh?" Melissa sat down beside him and cuddled against his chest, drinking from her own glass. "Why not?" "Apparently Vincent and Astoria are having dinner with her and her parents tonight." Wendell explained. "Baby stuff, she said." "Hmm. Surprisingly they didn't invite me." Melissa mused aloud. "That's it?" Wendell asked, raising an eyebrow and thinking about her behavior during the formal dinner with Melissa's parents, not to mention the little pictures she had taken of Vincent without him present. He doubted she would be more careful with her words if he were there to hear them too; at the very least, she would be even more likely to insult Vincent to his face. Melissa smiled, apparently coming to the same conclusion as he. "Maybe not." Melissa rubbed a hand on his shoulder and snuggled closer to him. "Still, I feel bad for you. It's going to be so hard for you not to have that release to look forward to at the end of the night. I know I always make you so worked up." "Yes you do." Wendell said quickly. Honestly, he wasn't looking forward to not having Elizabeth's bed open for him tonight; he got used to being able to count on her to satisfy him after a night of dating, flirting, and teasing Melissa. But he would put on a brave front. "I'll manage somehow. I did this for a whole month before you encouraged me to go fuck her, didn't I?" "Yes you did." Melissa nodded. "You shouldn't, though. Since Elizabeth isn't available, I feel I should help you with this." "Help me how?" Wendell quickly asked, intrigued. Surely she couldn't mean... "Oh I'm sure I'll think of something," said Melissa. ~xXx~ "I think I'm going to use the bathroom." Said Wendell right after Melissa came back from her bathroom break. "Meet you back here." she said, smiling as he got up from the couch. She knew he would visit the locker room before returning. She wasn't subtle about stopping in the locker room on her way to the bathroom. She wanted him to see it and suspect it. She wasn't wearing a coat or jacket of any kind tonight, so there was no logical reason she needed to go there, and he was too observant not to notice and think it was worth investigating. She didn't wear a jacket, but he was, and there was a surprise waiting for him inside his pocket. She took off her blue panties, the same panties she'll show him more than once during tonight's date, and stuffed them into her pocket for him to find. He was probably discovering them right now. The thought excited her, and she hoped it excited him too. He returned a few minutes later, and her smile widened when she realized he was wearing his coat again. Wendell returned the smile and pretended to slip his hands into his pockets right in front of her. He wasn't even trying to hide where he tinh gone, and they both knew what he encontrado found. "I see you found my little gift." She said, "I did." He nodded and she could see his hand moving inside his right pocket, probably rubbing the silky fabric of her panties. "I hope you think about me tonight when you go home and masturbate." she suggested. He licked his lips and she saw his throat gulp as he swallowed deeply. "I'll." he declared, and it made her smile. She knew it was his teasing and flirting that left him frustrated, but she doubted she was at the forefront of his mind while he was deep inside Elizabeth. He might spare her the occasional thought, but her attention would be right on the woman he was in the middle of a fuck. But there was no way he would be thinking about Elizabeth tonight. When he wrapped those blue panties around his cock, he used them to stroke himself and shot his cum inside her, it would be Melissa and Melissa alone that was on her mind. The thought was exciting, not to mention exciting. She knew she would be touching herself tonight as she imagined it. "You recognized that that was the same pair I was wearing on our date tonight, right?" Melissa asked. "How could I not?" He chuckled and shook his head. "You've shown them to me quite often." "Did you realize what else this means?" Melissa could see his mind at work, making a connection he hadn't made until that moment. If that was the panties she wore tonight, she walked straight from the locker room to the bathroom and back without stopping into her room on the way... She pulled her dress up and showed him what was hardly the first time that night. It was, however, the first time she showed him her pussy. He moaned, and his eyes didn't look away until long after she'd pulled her dress back up to cover herself again. She loved his attention, It was that temptation that led her to send him to Elizabeth's bed in the first place. She'd considered offering to play with him a month ago, and the offer to suck his cock was on the tip of her tongue tonight when he'd said Elizabeth wouldn't be available. Sucking his cock, or using her breasts or even her ass to care for him wouldn't have violated the terms of her betrothal contract or her agreement with her father, but she didn't trust herself to go that far and not give in to the temptation to fuck him for real. She also feared doing a below-average job due to her inexperience and that it could negatively impact their initial relationship, but she tried not to dwell on those fears too much. No, she wouldn't allow herself to take care of her sexual release directly yet, however much she wanted to. That would have to wait until they were married, if and when he decided to take that step. But she was glad she'd done at least that for him. It wasn't as much as he would have liked, and she felt the same way. But she would have to do it, at least for now. ~xXx~ It had been over a month since Wendell had had to resort to playing with himself to satisfy his desire. Ever since Melissa encouraged him to resume his date with Elizabeth, he had a wonderful way of releasing the sexual frustration that built up from dating his insatiable girlfriend tease, and why would he waste time or energy jacking off when he had an invite open to the lovely older blonde's house and bed? Nothing could compare to being inside a woman, and that wasn't matching it either. However, at least Melissa gave him a little more. She found a way to help him, even if she wasn't going to touch him or help him in a more direct way. He jerked off in her panties and closed his eyes, thinking of the glimpse of heaven she'd given him tonight. She had shown him many times to count throughout their courtship, but seeing her pussy for the first time was an unexpected treat. He could practically see in front of him now, her legs spread wide and inviting him inside. He grunted and her hand moved faster on her cock as he felt himself getting closer. A handjob could never compare to the real thing, but it was still able to do the job, plus he had an incredibly appetizing look to inspire him. A few more strokes and he was there, staining her panties with his seed, wishing it were real but taking what he could. Wendell sighed and relaxed on the bed after cleaning himself and putting his used panties aside. As he thought of the last few months he'd spent getting to know Melissa, hanging out with her almost every night, learning more about her, and falling more and more in love with her along the way, he made a decision. It was an important decision, a decision that changed his life, but he felt perfectly calm when the time came. Melissa Guzman was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. ~xXx~ "Hope you're ready for some more wine." said Melissa, returning to her room with a glass in each hand. "I just bought this vintage from Lisa's dad, and she said it's…" Melissa started to speak and immediately froze when she saw Wendell waiting for her, kneeling with a ring in his hand. "I decided to do this the traditional way." Wendell said. "I know you're a thoroughbred, but I thought you'd love to tell this story just because of how mad it will make your parents and sister mad." "You know me so well." Melissa whispered, smiling at him. He was right; she would have fun insulting her parents with this non-pureblood tradition, especially since there was nothing they could do about it. He was willing to oppose his daughter becoming Lady Holloway-Azulla, even if he complained privately about disrespect and lost traditions. "We don't need to do this now if you don't want to." he said. "If you'd rather wait and keep dating before making a commitment, that's fine with me. We can wait as long as you want; I don't mind being Lord Azulla ." "My father's offer will diminish considerably if I just become Lady Holloway," said Melissa. He wouldn't fully pull, of course. Lady Holloway was a name for her on her own, especially with this particular Lord Holloway being who he was . "I don't care about that either." he said. "I don't need his money and I don't need to be Lord Azulla. I know this is fast and we haven't been dating for a long time, and if you want to wait, I'll wait for you." as much as you want. But I know I want to be with you forever." Melissa placed the wine glasses on the small table with care, glad she hadn't spilled a drop despite her trembling hands. Then she walked slowly towards him and, when she reached him, smiled at him. “You're doing it all wrong.” Melissa said. “I may not be a normal person or have any normal blood in me, but I'm sure you should ask me a question.” Melissa was teasing him but knew he could hear the way her voice trembled and seeing the unshed tears in her eyes. "Okay, okay, I'm stupid." he said. He reached out to take her hand, and she let him. "Melissa, do you want to marry me?" “Yes!” Melissa said quickly, sobbing. She didn't expect to be so thrilled when that moment came, but then again, she never expected a potential husband to capture her heart the way Wendell did. She watched and waited impatiently as he did. the engagement ring on her finger, and the moment she was there she dropped to her knees and threw him to the ground, kissing him deeply and moaning into his mouth as he kissed her back. She would be Lady Holloway-Azulla. Well, she would, as long as she resisted the temptation to rip his clothes off and fuck him right there on the floor. ~xXx~ “And she accepted, didn't she? You have my sincere congratulations, Wendell. Melissa will be a great Lady Holloway-Azulla." Elizabeth looked totally sincere, and Wendell mentally wondered if she was real or if she was just faking happiness and putting on a mask to make it less awkward. He wasn't arrogant enough to believe she was heartbroken; what they had was purely physical. She didn't love him, nor he her. Still, he was sure she would miss the physical aspect of their relationship as it was. He knew he was going. "Obviously things will have to change between us." Wendell said, and she nodded. “Of course.” Elizabeth said. “Don't worry; I won't make it difficult for you. We had fun, Wendell, but I knew the fun would have to end someday." "Yes." Wendell said. "But it's not over yet." He could see Elizabeth and she looked surprised now. She arched a delicate brow at him. "Oh?" Her voice was level, but she sounded intrigued. "Melissa was willing to grant you one more night with me?" "It was her suggestion." he said, and now she was even more surprised. He was also surprised, to be honest. Melissa had been amazing just to encourage him to continue his adventure with Elizabeth during their courtship, but he assumed it was over. the moment she accepted his proposal and agreed to become his wife. He accepted that fact and made peace with it, but Melissa surprised him once more. Once she finally came to and got off him a little bit before the point where kissing would have turned into flying clothes and hands wandering over bare skin, she encouraged him to go have one last night with Elizabeth. He was surprised, but she insisted; she practically pushed him out the door. He knew she did. she rushed him as much for her own benefit as his. Her arousal was obvious, and they both knew they were walking the line. to, and he came here for one last night with Elizabeth. "I didn't expect that." Elizabeth said, echoing her thoughts. "I won't complain though." She took off her robe and stood before him completely naked, and Wendell took that as her cue to undress too. He took off his clothes. in a hurry and then scooped Elizabeth into his arms so they could get started. "How do you want to do this?" Wendell asked. Since it was the last time and it was ending because of him, he felt it was appropriate to let her decide how they shared their last night together. "Hmm." Elizabeth thought for a quick moment. "I think I would like to be on top." "I should have guessed." Wendell said, smiling. Although Elizabeth was generally open to anything, or at least almost anything, it was no secret to him that she preferred a position of control most of the time. That wasn't a problem for him; he was always open to climbing on her back and allowing a beautiful woman to get on top of him. He sat up in bed and rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. She took it from there, pushing herself to straddle him, taking his cock in his hand and pressing him against her. She rocked her hips from side to side, as if to excite him, but they were both well aware it was unnecessary. He'd been hard since Melissa's tearful acceptance of her proposal turned into a kiss, and then a touch, and finally a squeeze. His arousal hadn't diminished since then, and he was grateful to his future wife and his current bedmate that Elizabeth was able to take care of him one last time. Elizabeth sat on top of him, slowly filling her pussy with his cock. He was used to her riding him so much faster and harder, but it seemed that on their last night together she was more interested in taking his time. Maybe she wanted this final time to last as long as she could. In that case, he couldn't blame her. As long as he was looking forward to marrying Melissa, he would miss it. Even though there was no romance or deep feelings between him and Elizabeth, he had never met anyone he had such good sexual chemistry with. “Ahh, I'm going to miss this.” Elizabeth said with a sigh as she settled into a slow but steady rise and fall of her hips. It was like she was reading her mind. this bed, Wendell Holloway, and it won't be the last. You're the best, though." They were words designed to caress the male ego and that's exactly what they did for Wendell too. It certainly helped that he could tell she was serious. She would miss it as much as he did, which was a comforting thought. Elizabeth looked at home in dominance, placing her hands on his chest and gently riding her cock. He felt like she could go on like this all night without slowing down, and honestly, he wouldn't mind if she did just that. "You will have a long night, Wendell." Elizabeth happily declared. She sat up completely and took his entire cock inside her before rotating her hips from side to side, moving him and dictating her movement and the angle at which his cock rubbed against her. “This may be your last night in my bed, but you'll never forget it. I'll drain you dry.” Elizabeth punctuated her promise slowly, deviously lifting her hips back up and then sliding down on him again with equally teasing slowness. Wendell knew Elizabeth was right; he was going to have a long, exhausting night. And he couldn't have asked for anything more. His hands went to Elizabeth's hips, holding her sexy body as she took him for a final ride. ~xXx~ "Are you sure about that, Wendell?" Wendell could see that Rose was nervous to broach the subject, but she never allowed the fear of upsetting him to keep her from speaking her mind, especially when it came to something as important as that. He really didn't resent her attention. He really liked that; he knew she was only asking because she cared about him and was trying to take care of him. She was like the sister he never had. "I'm sure, Rose." he said, smiling at her and taking a sip of his coffee. She stared at him from across the booth they claimed for a quick breakfast at her favorite cafe, biting her lip nervously. That meant she hadn't pressed the issue yet. "It's just that you haven't known Melissa for a long time." Rose spoke. “It's not that I have anything against Melissa. We weren't exactly friends at Bella Noche, but we got along great, which was more than I could say for most of her other dorm members. And she's very smart and of course she's doing a great job at the Ministry. I'm just afraid you're moving too fast." Wendell nodded. He could understand Rose's concerns. If she or Jasper had announced that they were entering into an engagement agreement with someone after only a few months of dating, and with someone he'd barely spoken to before, he'd be surprised and skeptical too. She didn't know the underlying reasons why they were moving so fast; he hadn't told her about the existence of the Azulla contract, much less about its requirements, and he didn't plan on telling her now about that either. It wasn't that he didn't trust her, but he knew how she could handle certain pureblood customs. Better to leave her in the dark. "I understand why you feel that way, Rose." Wendell said. "I really want this. I know this might seem quick to you, and if I were outside looking in, I would probably feel the same way. But no matter how shortly it's been and no matter how fast we're moving, I can honestly say that I've never been so sure about anything in my life.” That was also true. Leaving aside the requirements for becoming Lord Azulla, he would never have actually proposed marriage to Melissa unless he was sure it was the right thing for them and that she was the right woman for him. Rose studied his expression seriously for several long seconds, and then she relaxed against her side of the booth. "You always had great instincts." she said. Then she thought for a second and smiled. "Well, almost always." They shared a laugh at that, and then her face turned serious again. “If that's what you want to do, you know I'm going to support you as always. If you need anything, anything, I'll be there for you." "Thanks Rose," he said. He was pleased to know he would have her support. She had been the most important woman in his life before Melissa came along, and he wanted them to get along. They might even become friends. The two of them together could probably reshape the entire society for the better if they had a chance. - "Ready to go?" Wendell asked, smiling at Melissa as she joined him in the Ministry's lobby after work was done. The Head of Department and the Minister's Senior Undersecretary had shown up and done their jobs as usual, but their after-work plans were anything but commonplace. Today was the most important day of their lives. "I'm ready." Melissa said, nodding her head emphatically. "Let's destroy my chastity." Two weeks have passed since Melissa accepted her proposal. Lord Guzman had been, well, Wendell wouldn't use the word enchanted to describe him, but he was definitely pleased that his stubborn daughter had consented to marry him and become the new Lady Holloway-Azula. It was a prestigious position to be sure, but Wendell and Melissa were focused only on building their life together. Melissa's belongings have mostly been transferred from her apartment to his. She will officially move into his apartment after today's exam. They agreed to share their apartment until they were married, after which they would move into a house they would choose together. Tonight was the night it all became official and Wendell couldn't wait. Once the exam was completed and Melissa's virginity was confirmed by a healer who would sign a document attesting to it, the betrothal contract would become official and they would be legally obligated to marry within the next year. That may have been the only part of this that Melissa's parents cared about, but for the engaged couple it was a mere formality. Whether 'official' or not, they considered themselves united from the moment he asked her to marry him and she said yes. The real cause of Wendell's excitement was the fact that once the betrothal contract became official and legally binding, Melissa would no longer have to worry about her chastity. He would be free to have sex with her tonight. Finally, he would be able to get his hands on his beautiful bride, and he couldn't wait for that. They disappeared separately, but appeared side by side at the designated arrival point in St. Mungo's. An advisor anticipated their arrival and was there to guide them to the examination room where the business would be conducted. A healer was waiting for them outside the room as expected. Melissa's parents weren't there, however, despite their stated intention to witness the exam themselves and make sure it was done properly. Instead, it was a familiar face that stood beside the healer. Familiar, but not at all expected. "Hello, Lord Holloway-Azulla and the future Lady Holloway-Azulla." Elizabeth said formally. "This is Healer Jacobs, who will take care of his examination." Wendell found it a little amusing to see her in her public role as the former aristocratic Lady Wilkinson, having ceded that title to Astoria, considering that the last time he saw her, they were both sweaty and breathless to speak after the longest. marathon sex they've had throughout the 'relationship', as it were. "Hello Healer Jacobs." Melissa said quickly in a casual way. "Thanks for your help." Wendell nodded to the old healer as well, but his attention was more on the other woman who was waiting for them. “Elizabeth? What exactly are you doing?” Wendell asked curiously. “Mr. and Mrs. Guzman had an unexpected emergency to attend to and I came in their place.” Elizabeth said. Wendell's eyes widened at the implications, but she shook her head at the look of concern. “It's nothing. Seriously, don't worry; this is just a sensitive political issue that requires your immediate attention, Astoria and the baby are perfectly fine. Turns out I was present and assured them that I would come personally on their behalf and make sure everything was in order. order during the exam." Elizabeth said quickly, she knew that as much as Wendell and Vincent didn't get along, Wendell would still care about Astoria and her future son to a certain degree of importance. "It's fine by me." said Melissa. Wendell nodded in agreement. As strange as it might be to have her ex-lover watching while her future wife was physically examined to prove her 'suitability' to become Lady Azulla, she was still infinitely preferable to Guzman's parents, as far as he was concerned. The healer led Wendell and Melissa into the examining room, and Elizabeth followed closely behind. Wendell looked to the healer for guidance, really having no clue as to the details of the exam or what, if anything, was expected of him. "Mr. Holloway, please?" The healer looked at him expectantly. So obviously he was supposed to do something, but what? "Err, sorry, but what do you extremely want me to do?" Wendell curiously asked, deciding there was nothing else to do. “As the future husband who is going to marry Ms. Guzman if she passes the exam, accepted practice is for you to undress your future bride.” The healer explained patiently. This took Wendell by surprise, but he adjusted quickly enough. Melissa totally naked for him, probably around the first time she showed him her panties. He was almost at that point, and if tradition dictated that he was the one to make it happen, then who was he to argue? Melissa changed the robes she was required to wear during work as soon as her shift ended, which she almost always did. She looked much better in muggle clothes anyway, but he wasted no time admiring her outfit this time, as he was allowed and even expected her to be naked for the first time. Her jacket came out first and Melissa shrugged to help him remove it. There was only a moment of hesitation after that, where Wendell debated which garment he wanted to take off next. He decided to do the unexpected, instead of taking off her blouse or skirt, he placed his hands on her smooth legs, slipped them under her skirt and went for her panties first. He caught Elizabeth's small smirk out of the corner of his eye, but he paid no attention. His fingers went to the waist of the material and pulled it down, revealing white lace. Melissa showed him the panties often enough over their time together that he was sure he had seen all the panties she owned. He knew she didn't usually wear white, generally preferring reds and blues. Her hunch told him that today's choice was symbolic. Everyone shared the concept of white being the color of purity and innocence, and though Melissa was anything but innocent, her chastity remained intact. That was going to change tonight; he would definitely make sure of that. Taking her panties off completely was more challenging than it could have been, thanks to the heels she'd put on before leaving work, but he got there eventually. Even though it had been out of order, she probably expected the skirt to come out soon. After all, it was logical. He wouldn't deny that he was terribly tempted to do just that, or at least flip her skirt up and admire her bare pussy for what would only be the second time. But he was in the mood to keep doing the unexpected, so he placed his hands on her stomach and started to climb under her shirt. Starting with the bra was more challenging than taking her panties under her skirt, as the blouse impeded her progress. Maybe Melissa herself was practiced enough to take off her bra with little or no effort, but Wendell's hands weren't as trained at it. He ended up unbuttoning the clasp and managed to pull her bra off as a prize when her hands came out from under her shirt. The bra was lacy white to match her panties, which was no surprise. He held it in his hands for a moment, strangely excited by what it represented. Melissa was now naked under that skirt and blouse. She had tempted and teased and seduced him for months, and now he was about to see it all. The blouse itself was his next target, and taking it off was simple compared to sliding the bra under it. He undid the buttons that hadn't yet been undone during his quest to take off her bra, then tossed the shirt over her shoulders so that it fell to the floor behind her. Now Wendell took a while to admire her progress. While he had glimpsed her cleavage when she bent like that during their encounters, sometimes naturally, and sometimes intentionally, he was now seeing them totally naked, finally. He longed to touch them. They weren't exactly the biggest pair he'd ever seen, although not far from the target, but he'd never seen a pair of breasts that looked so squeezable. Her nipples, hard and pink, would certainly be a lot of fun to suck on too. Wendell has definitely not given in to these urges yet. They were here for a reason, a very important reason, and he still had a job to do. There was still her skirt to attend to, but it wouldn't be left to shield her from view much longer. He undid it and pushed it down her legs, and she lifted her feet to help him back onto his heels. As soon as he was tossed aside in the pile along with the rest of his clothes, Wendell stood up and admired Melissa Guzman's nude body. He had dreamed of this moment many times over the past few months, and now it had finally arrived. "Screw this." Wendell whispered. He was quiet enough that he was sure Elizabeth and Healer Jacobs were too far away to hear. Melissa listened, though, and smiled widely. Somehow the moment of anticipation not only fulfilled her expectations and fantasies, it exceeded them. He knew Melissa had an amazing body to match her pretty face. Anyone who glanced at her could say that quite easily. Yet somehow she looked even better naked than he might have expected. Her body was immaculate: she truly was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He'd already believed that, but seeing her naked and being able to drink every inch of her voluptuous body confirmed it beyond any doubt. From her long golden hair to her pretty face, smooth skin, large, perfectly shaped breasts and long, shapely legs that led to an ass to die for, she was perfection given physical form. And of course there was the real prize between her legs, the part of her they were really here to examine. He took one look at her pussy that day. She showed it to him after slipping her panties into his jacket pocket, and it has stayed in his mind ever since. That brief glimpse had been burned into his brain, and he eagerly awaited his next chance to see him. And now he was not only starting to see him again, but also taking a deeper look at him. This was no flash, no tease that was about to be taken from him any second now. She was naked except for her heels, and just minutes away from becoming hers. That they were there for a specific purpose was forgotten by Wendell, because at that moment his brain couldn't focus on anything but the perfect witch standing naked in front of him. He put his hands on the sides of her face and kissed her desperately. She gasped in surprise but returned the kiss with equal passion, her tongue darting out to meet him in a duel. Her hands roamed over her body, rejoicing that he could finally touch her with nothing to limit him. He stroked her back and grabbed her big ass, giving both cheeks a firm squeeze as he continued to kiss her. A clear throat clearing brought Wendell back to himself and remembering where they were and why. He broke the kiss and pulled back to see Elizabeth smiling slightly and not looking surprised, while Healer Jacobs looked a little annoyed but not embarrassed or anything. Nudity wasn't a big deal to her thanks to her work, but Wendell could guess she was irritated by what he considered a waste of time. "Uh, sorry about that." Wendell muttered shyly. Elizabeth's smile widened, while the healer just shook her head. "It's okay, Lord Holloway." Said the older woman. "You are not the first man to react that way in this room and unfortunately you won't be the last." Then she turned to Melissa. "If you want, Miss Guzman, please climb into bed so we can begin the exam." Melissa nodded, taking one last look at Wendell before turning and walking towards the bed. He moaned at the spectacular view it gave him of her nice big ass bouncing as she moved. “She may be even prettier than your sister, and that means something. You're a lucky man, Wendell.” Elizabeth whispered, stepping to stand beside him as the healer approached Melissa to begin her examination. "I don't know that." Wendell whispered back. "Thank you for investigating this and helping set up our kickoff meeting." "Don't think anything about it." said Elizabeth. "I'm sure I'll find a way for you to make it up to me." Wendell turned his head away from the exam in progress to look at Elizabeth, curious as to what she meant, but she was looking at the exam now and didn't recognize him. He was about to ask her what she meant when the healer addressed him. “The physical is complete; she's in good health," said Healer Jacobs. "I'm going to have her cleansed now, so please step forward, Lord Holloway." Wendell felt a little awkward as he approached the bed and stood beside Healer Jacobs, who was applying some kind of ointment to his hands; probably for sanitary purposes, he assumed. This was the closest he'd ever been, the best look he'd ever had to Melissa's pussy, and yet it was hard to feel any excitement in that fact when an elderly witch was currently reaching between her legs to examine her. The old woman was totally professional, of course; she had probably done it hundreds of times over the years. That didn't make things any less upsetting for Wendell. Melissa was perfectly calm the entire time; she kept her legs spread and showed no reaction as the old woman opened the lips of her vagina and thrust her hand inside her. If she felt any embarrassment about the situation, she did a masterful job of hiding it. "The hymen is intact." declared Healer Jacobs moments later. "You can search for yourself if you wish, Lord Holloway." Wendell shook his head, not wanting to put Melissa through this any longer than necessary, but Melissa herself spoke. "Go ahead and look, Wendell." Said his future wife. "I want you to see." "All right." he said, surprised but willing to do it if she wanted to. He tilted his head closer to take a look, not that there was a need. He knew what he would find there, and would have taken his word for it with or without the healer's official examination. But he amused her, and as he did, there was only one thought going through her mind: her hymen was still intact for now, but it wouldn't be much longer. As soon as it was over and everything was legal and official, he would take her back to their apartment and spend the rest of the night introducing her to everything she had missed so far as a 25-year-old virgin. Healer Jacobs signed the document attesting to her examination of Melissa's virginity, and the moment her signature was added along with Elizabeth's approval as designated replacement for Guzman's parents, the betrothal became official. They were now magically bound to marriage next year, but they were free to enjoy themselves immediately. "You have two hours." Said Healer Jacobs. Wendell looked away from Melissa, confused, but saw the healer direct her statement to Elizabeth. "That should be enough," said Elizabeth. "Thank you Healer Jacobs." The healer nodded and left the room, which only confused Wendell further. "Uh Elizabeth? What the hell is going on?" Wendell quickly asked. She smiled at him, and then she was taking off his robes. Her eyes widened in disbelief. "What the hell are you doing?!" "Oh come on." Elizabeth smiled and unbuttoned her bra. "Don't act like you haven't seen me take off my robes before, Wendell. And I know our past is no secret from Melissa either." "Obviously, that's not the point!" Wendell hissed. Of course Melissa knew about her past with Elizabeth and even encouraged him to stay that way for a while during their courtship, but that was the past. And even when it was happening, it wasn't like they'd fucked right in front of Melissa or anything. "Why are you undressing now?" "Because I gave Healer Jacobs a nice little financial incentive to allow us to use the room for the next two hours, and I plan to use it." Elizabeth said happily. "I believe it would be best if you consumed your future marriage here and now, and I would be happy to offer any assistance or guidance that Melissa might need due to her inexperience. I would even be willing to provide practical help with the demonstrations." "I'm sure yes." Wendell muttered under his breath. He looked at Melissa, trying to gauge her reaction to all of this, but she didn't look angry or even particularly surprised. "So you came up with it right away, as soon as Melissa's parents asked you to take their place here?" This made Elizabeth laugh. "Oh, sweet naive Wendell." she said, smiling and bending down to slide her green panties down her legs. “Who do you think pulled all the strings to orchestrate that little political fire Cyrus and Evelyn had to put out? And who do you think also slipped into this bullshit about her husband being the one to strip his future bride's clothes before the exam? We had to configure everything correctly." "You set all this up?" Wendell said, shaking his head. "Didn't know you missed me so much, Elizabeth. I'm not sure whether to be scared or flattered. But you do realize I'm a taken man now, right?" "I knew that ahead of time, Wendell." said Melissa. His head returned to Elizabeth. "Is that you?" Now that was interesting. He was surprised enough that she had given him her blessing and encouragement to continue sleeping with Elizabeth during their courtship, but he thought she wanted him all to herself now that she was really free to do so. "Yes." She said, "That got my parents out of the way, didn't it?" He smiled at that. "And to be honest, the thought of Elizabeth being here for our first time sounds pretty hot to me." Melissa had always surprised him from the moment she showed up at the first meeting with her parents to discuss the possibility of an engagement, so maybe he should have seen something like that coming. She managed to catch him with one final surprise, and as always, one that was about to make his life that much more interesting and fun. Taking her back to the apartment and spending a long night introducing her to the joys of sex was everything he'd hoped for in the past two weeks. But as fun as it was, deflowering her here in St. Mungo's, with Elizabeth watching and probably participating in some way, would definitely be even more memorable. Elizabeth and Melissa must have seen something in his face to mark the moment when he went from confusion and questioning to accepting and yearning for it, because they converged on him almost at the same time. Melissa greeted him with a kiss, and he returned it with the same kind of passion he'd poured into her embrace when he'd first left her naked. They were interrupted now as before, but this time for a much nicer reason. Elizabeth gently turned his head towards her and began to kiss him. Her eyes flicked to Melissa just to make sure she was okay with it, and when she met his gaze with a confident smile, he relaxed and returned Elizabeth's kiss. Maybe he didn't love her like he loved Melissa, but he missed it just the same. She knew how to kiss, that was for sure. After he and Elizabeth parted, she turned and kissed Melissa. Melissa's blue eyes widened momentarily, so evidently she hadn't expected this. Perhaps she had thought the two of them would focus on Wendell and do nothing to each other. It only took a second or two before she relaxed, placed her hands on Elizabeth's face and kissed him back. It was Wendell's turn to be outside looking in, but he didn't mind at all. No, he would be happy to watch his fiancee and her frequent sex partner kiss each other all night long. His cock was already hard thanks to everything he'd done and seen so far, and he gave an uncomfortable pulse as he watched the pair of beautiful blondes kissing right in front of him. It was like Elizabeth was psychic, or maybe she was just horny. Whatever her reasoning, her timing couldn't have been better: she reached out and began rubbing her nub while still kissing Melissa. She kept this up for thirty seconds or so before breaking the kiss, but she didn't remove her hand from his crotch. "I think it's time for your first lesson, Melissa." Elizabeth said. "Would you like to learn to suck Wendell's cock?" "Yes." Melissa said, shaking her head anxiously. It was a sentiment Wendell shared wholeheartedly. Melissa's beautiful face rocking on her cock had been in her mind for some time now, and if she had Elizabeth there to guide her, she sure as hell would have caught it quickly. Elizabeth really was an excellent cocksucker, and he couldn't wait to see what Melissa would be able to learn under her tutelage. "Excellent," said Elizabeth. “Let's just start. Take his clothes off. You can focus from the waist down; I take care of the rest. ” Melissa got to her knees and unbuttoned his pants while Elizabeth went after him and started pulling on his shirt. Wendell lifted his arms to allow her to take off his shirt, but his focus was on what was happening in front of her. The mere sight of Melissa on her knees in front of him was very exciting in itself, but of course she wasn't just there to watch. She pulled her pants down until they were around her ankles and then her boxers followed. His fiancee gasped as she stared at her cock, and it was only then that Wendell realized what it meant to her. He was so focused on his own desire to see her naked for the first time that he almost forgot that she was probably even more excited about it all. He had a lot of experience before her; he's seen and fucked a few women in their 20s, including but not limited to the pretty older blonde who was rubbing his chest from behind at the time. But for Melissa, this was all new. She had never seen a dick before, at least not up close and personal like this. She must have been anticipating this moment for over a decade at this point. "Wow." Melissa whispered, looking at him in awe. Of all the compliments Wendell received about his sexual prowess, that one word may well have been the most rewarding of all. “Yes, it's very good.” Elizabeth said. “Coolest I've ever had. You're a lucky witch, Melissa. But don't just stare at him. You've been waiting for this for years. Melissa nodded absently, reached out and slowly wrapped her hand around her length. She gave a few exploratory pumps as if testing the feel of her first cock, and her only cock, of course. He would be the first and the last. But she only did this a few times before moving on to why on her knees in the first place. She started by licking him, first dragging her tongue up and down his shaft and then swirling it around the head of his cock. Having Melissa's tongue on him felt good, but Wendell grunted in mild frustration. What he really wanted was her mouth on him, and he had to resist the urge to grab her head and shove her cock into her mouth. “I'd put it in your mouth right now, if I were you.” Elizabeth said, reading her reaction and using her experience to know when it was time to move things. that Melissa had just wrapped her lips around the head of his cock. Her beautiful blue eyes stared at him as she sucked on the tip, and Wendell's hands curled into fists. "Very good," said Elizabeth. “Now try shaking your head. Go easy at first; give yourself time to get used to it. ” Melissa did as instructed, lowering her head and absorbing more of her cock. It wasn't the fastest or most skillful blowjob he's ever had; experience counted for something. But it was still amazing, and not just because this was the woman he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Maybe she didn't have the skill level of some of the other women he'd been with, but she was doing a surprisingly good job for once. There wasn't much hesitation in moving from her; she wasn't scared of what she was doing or shaking her head shyly out of fear of doing something wrong. She was able to take him deeper than he expected and slide her lips along his cock faster than any first-time cocksucker had any right. She had a fair amount of skill, despite her inexperience, and whatever she lacked in skill she made up for with enthusiasm. He was sure she would be amazing at this in no time. With a little practice, she might as well become the best he's ever had. “Maybe you don't need so much guidance after all.” Elizabeth said. She still had her arms around Wendell and tucked her head into his arms to watch Melissa's first blowjob. “If that's what you can do for first time, you two will have a very satisfying sex life." "I couldn't agree more." Wendell said, moaning as he felt the release building inside him. Elizabeth felt it too; she saw him and brought him to orgasm often enough to recognize the tension in his body and the difficulty in his breathing and know exactly what it meant. "He's about to come." Elizabeth announced. "I'll let you decide how you want to finish him." Melissa knew exactly what she wanted. Her head swayed faster and she kept her lips tightly sealed around him as her orgasm hit him. Her hips jerked and he grunted, but Melissa stayed in place and accepted all of his cum. She did her best to swallow it all down, but some came out of her mouth and ran down her chin. "Excellent." Elizabeth said. "I don't know about you Wendell, but I think she deserves the same treatment before you reach the royal consummation." "This might be the best idea you've ever had." Wendell said. As much as he was eager to claim Melissa's virginity, he was totally on board to attack her first, especially after what she'd just done for him. He helped Melissa to her feet and carried her to the bed. She spread her legs as he placed her on the bed, so obviously she wanted this as much as he did. Her eyes were bright and watched him closely as he lowered himself onto his stomach between her legs. She jumped and her hands flew to her head as he took the first lick of her. While Melissa was far from the first woman he licked, Wendell had never felt such a compulsion to want to make a lover feel good as he did at that moment. His feelings for her propelled him, and he trusted the experience he'd accumulated with Elizabeth and others to figure out exactly how he could give Melissa the best time in her life. She was wonderfully expressive in both her moans and the way she grabbed him, so it was easy to determine what was working and what wasn't. He soon got to the point where he was pressing his tongue against her clit in a counterclockwise motion and moving a finger inside her tight cunt, bending it forward to stroke her g-spot. Melissa loved it and wasn't ashamed to let him and Elizabeth hear it. She sobbed and moaned and cried out as he pleasured her, and Wendell felt so proud to be the one she had chosen to share it with. She had waited all her life for this moment, abandoned romance or meaningless sex in the name of family obligation, and it was with him that she decided to spend her life. He was the only man who ever had his head between her legs, the only man who would taste her pussy, hear her moan or feel her hands gripping her head as she was taken by pleasure. "Oh God, Wendell!" Melissa screamed. “God, yes, fuck you! So good! So good!" “Yes, he certainly is.” Elizabeth said, standing by the bed and watching them. “He has a very talented tongue, doesn't he?” Wendell looked up earlier and realized she was touching herself as she watched, but adorable as it was. whatever, he was focused only on taking care of his beautiful bride now. "Yes!" Melissa screamed. Was that an answer to Elizabeth, an expression of pleasure, or both? Whichever the case, Wendell's work remained the same. He could tell she was close now. He found the right method of attack; he didn't need to change anything. All he needed was a little more than he was doing. Sure enough, it was only another minute or so of licking her clit and stroking her G-spot before Melissa screamed even louder and reached her climax. Wendell kept her cunnilingus elevated throughout her orgasm, making sure her ecstasy stayed high until she finally settled into bed, totally exhausted. Wendell knelt and looked at her puzzled expression, pleased with himself for a job well done. “Now it's all the same and you two are pleased.” Elizabeth said. “I hate to be selfish, but I was hoping I could talk a little more orally before you got to the deflowering.” Wendell looked at her, not having a problem with the idea, but then she looked at Melissa and he realized that she had something else in mind. "What do you say, Melissa? Does helping to organize your engagement entitle me to a little attention from the future Lady Holloway-Azulla?" "That entitles you to that, at the very least." said Melissa. She came back to life very quickly after her orgasm, and Wendell moved to the other side of the bed to make room for Elizabeth. She adopted a different position for her turn, nudging Melissa so that she was on her back and rocking her hips over her head. Wendell didn't even blink. He had never seen Elizabeth with another woman before, but her wanting to be on top wasn't the least bit surprising. Wendell didn't expect to be a mere spectator anytime tonight, but he didn't care, not when the two pretty blondes were putting on such an attractive show. Elizabeth's hands cupped Melissa's head and she rocked her hips against her face. While Wendell didn't have the best angle to see how well Melissa was under her, Elizabeth's little sighs told him she was doing well enough. Apparently, she was as quick to study when it came to eating pussy as she was sucking cock. Wendell leaned back and stroked himself lazily as he watched, bracing himself for what was yet to come without going very far. He was peripherally aware of Elizabeth's gasps getting heavier and her hips working faster as Melissa made her come with her mouth, but her focus was on what was to come. When Elizabeth dismounted from Melissa's face and rolled out of bed, he knew her time had come. "She's all hers, Wendell." said Elizabeth. "Go claim your future bride." Melissa smiled at him and held out her arms in invitation. She was sweaty and exhausted from what she'd been through, but he could see the emotion on her face. She was looking forward to this as much as he, if not more. He got into position between her legs and guided his cock to rest against her cunt. He stopped there just to savor this moment, but Melissa wasn't in the mood for it. "I've waited long enough, Wendell." Melissa lamented. "Don't make me wait any longer." He nodded; if waiting to go to bed with her had been torture for him, he couldn't even imagine how sexually frustrated she was. No more teasing then. He relaxed his hips forward and slid the tip of his cock inside her, pushing forward until he reached her hymen. At first, he intended to pause for a few seconds, but she shook her head immediately. "Do it." said Melissa. "End it. I'm ready." There was nothing to be done. She knew what was about to happen; she knew it and wanted to end it. He gave a curt nod, pushed forward and pierced Melissa's hymen, ripping out the thing she'd protected for all these years to appease her father and secure her future. Melissa hissed, and he went quiet and frowned sympathetically. Obviously he didn't know that feeling and would never know it, but he knew enough about it to know she wasn't exactly comfortable right now. He would be willing to step back and give her all the time she needed to recover, but then again she had other ideas. "Continues." Melissa whispered, opening her eyes and looking at him. "Do not stop now." Although he had no problem waiting for her, he was relieved that she was giving him permission to move on. Melissa's pussy was arguably the tightest he'd ever been in, and he had to fight himself not to trap her and bury her cock in that incredible animal-like grip. He cared too much for her to do that, of course, but the instinct was there anyway. He started to move, sliding his hips back and pushing them forward with care, moving his cock inside her with a gentle rhythm at first to give her time to get used to having him inside her. He was aware that this was her first time, and also that her dick was bigger than normal. The last thing he wanted to do was give her more than she was ready for and turn her first time into an unpleasant experience. Once again, it was Melissa who kept them moving. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, kissed him and looked into her eyes, the blue meeting the gold with a look of intensity beyond anything he had ever directed at him. "Go." said Melissa. "Faster, Wendell. I want to feel this. Make love to me." Wendell moaned at her words, which sent a pleasant tingle through him. That's right; they were making love. He tinhad fucked a lot of women in his life, but honestly it was the first time he fezd ever made love to one. He had thought it was love with Shelby at first, but he understood now more than ever how wrong he was. That had been a passion he was too immature to understand; what he felt for Melissa was love, and now they were finally expressing that love physically. Wendell started moving faster now, sliding his cock inside Melissa's tight, newly deflowered pussy with progressively more force. It never reached the level of bed creaking intensity that he could produce when he was having sex with someone else, like Elizabeth, for example. He was sure he and Melissa would have their nights like this, but that wasn't what was right now. This first time was about love, not lust, and he wanted Melissa to keep the memory forever. He looked like he was achieving that goal, if her reactions were any indication. She kept her grip on him, holding on with her arms and legs as she moaned and cooed. Any pain she might have felt at her deflowering was long gone now, replaced by the purest pleasure as he found the ideal rhythm, keeping his cock in constant motion but never losing control of himself and falling into a stupid fuck. There would be other times, other chances to let her go and fuck her as hard as he could. Right now he was making love to her, and he wouldn't have done it any other way. If it had been up to Wendell, he would have continued to slide his cock back and forth inside Melissa for the rest of the night, or at least until the allotted two hours ended and the healer returned to chase them out of the room. That wouldn't be an option, because Melissa's end came surprisingly quickly. "Oh yes!" Melissa gasped. "Yes! I've waited so long for this! Yes, yes, yes!" Melissa held him tightly and moaned into her ear as he pushed and brought her to her first orgasm through intercourse. The first, but nowhere near the last. It was a frustrating wait for her to finally get her first time, but he would make sure she never felt dissatisfied again. He knew Melissa was beautiful; he knew a great deal about her before Elizabeth mentioned her as the only likely candidate to become Lady Azulla, and he would only come to appreciate her beauty the more time he spent with her. But she had never looked more beautiful to him than in that ecstatic moment. Her head was thrown back, her blue eyes gleamed and her mouth was open in a drawn-out moan that was music to her ears. The sight and sound of her orgasm, not to mention how amazing it was to push her cock back and forth into the tightest, most perfect pussy he'd ever liked, was too much for Wendell to handle. Wendell followed, grunting and releasing his cum inside her while Melissa was still in the throes of her own pleasure. Her moan was swallowed by Melissa, who brought his head to hers and captured her lips in a strong but passionate kiss. He moaned into her mouth as his hips jerked and he pumped his last jets into his future wife's pussy. Wendell kept his cock inside her for quite a while after that, and they ended up with his head between her breasts as she stroked her head lovingly. "That was…" Melissa muttered under her breath, and he perked up. What kind of adjective would she use to describe her first time, first time? "...This was really worth the wait." Melissa concluded happily. Wendell smiled against her chest. Given how long she had to wait, he knew how big a compliment she actually gave him. He was happy that he was able to live up to her expectations and would work hard to keep doing that for the rest of their lives. ~xXx~ "That's right, Wendell." Melissa exclaimed out loud. "Just push it into me. Just claim your wife's final hole." Elizabeth smiled as Wendell slowly slid into Melissa's ass from behind. The couple looked like they were about to fall asleep and spend the last 20-30 minutes of their time snuggling in, but Elizabeth wasn't about to allow it. She paid handsomely for this time and would definitely get the most out of it. She took care of all the preparations, first getting Melissa ready and then cleaning Wendell's cock and helping him get hard again, and now she was stepping back and watching Melissa take her first trip into the world of anal sex. The young woman gasped as Wendell slowly slid his sizable cock into her ass, and Elizabeth was honestly impressed. Wendell was being careful, but he was still a big dick to take there, especially for the first time. If Melissa were so receptive right away, anal sex would probably be a real treat for the future Lord and Lady Holloway-Azulla. Wendell's hands rested on Melissa's hips and he slowly pushed his hips forward, sinking deeper into her. They proceeded as they had done with their royal deflowering; starting slowly, he gradually picked up speed, with Melissa's permission and encouragement. It would probably take her some time and practice to get to the point where he could catch him in the ass as easily as Elizabeth could, but she had a feeling Melissa would get there soon. E Elizabeth ficaria perfeitamente feliz em oferecer sua experiência e ajudá-la a chegar lá. Ela ajudou a organizar este casamento da mesma forma que o havia organizado para esta primeira vez memorável. Com alguma sorte, Melissa a recompensaria por seus serviços, permitindo que Elizabeth se juntasse a eles na cama de vez em quando. Ela não esperava foder Wendell com nada perto da regularidade que ela gostava antes, e ela não era tola o suficiente para tentar fazer qualquer coisa sem a aprovação de Melissa. Ela provavelmente nunca iria colocá-lo na cama sozinho de novo, apenas os dois, mas isso não a incomodava muito. Se ela pudesse sentir o gosto ocasional de Wendell enquanto sua esposa assistia e talvez se juntar a ela, Elizabeth acharia isso um arranjo mais do que satisfatório. Ela sempre soube que Wendell se casaria eventualmente, e presumiu que seria o fim inevitável de seu relacionamento. Mas dado o quão receptiva Melissa tinha sido com sua participação esta noite, ela estava esperançosa de que esta não seria a última vez que ela faria uma visita ao futuro Lorde e Lady Holloway-Azulla. Se não fosse por gratidão por sua ajuda ou entusiasmo pelas possibilidades de que os três conseguir fazer juntos, talvez Melissa consentisse apenas para esfregar na cara dos pais, da irmã e até do filho de Elizabeth. Elizabeth podia ver suas reações de indignação e horror agora. Melissa não era o tipo de mulher que o velho Lorde Azulla tinha em mente quando redigiu aquele contrato; ele provavelmente estava rolando em seu túmulo agora. Mas ela era exatamente o tipo de Lady Azulla de que Wendell, e talvez Elizabeth também, precisavam. - Muito bem, seu irmão idiota e atencioso irresponsável. Elizabeth captura consigo mesma enquanto observava o herdeiro escolhido de Patrick Azulla sair da bunda de sua futura esposa e espirrar seu sêmen em suas costas. ~ xXx ~

Chapter 3 - In Broad Daylight

After a night of uneasy sleep, Erik woke up in a dark mood and full-blown erection.           “Oh, would you give it a rest?” He asked angrily, staring at the bulge formed under the sheets.   His cock demanded his immediate attention. With a defeated sigh he grabbed the selfish creature by its long neck and started offhandedly stroking it up and down… up and down… His mind was elsewhere, though. His thoughts drifted away from Rorikstead, far beyond Whiterun hold. He was in the fabled land of Out There, where he wasn’t Erik the Hoe-Pusher or Erik the Room-Cleaner, but Erik… Erik…   “Erik the Cock-Choker!” He muttered seconds before ejaculating thick and hot streams of morning cum. Blowing his load didn’t bring him the usual ecstatic glee, though. Instead, it was just a temporary truce between him and his attention-hungry member. He hoped their guest leaves soon, so he can shake off whatever curse she put on him last night. The tip of his swollen penis was flashy red, as if filled with rage because its master had lost interest in it. Reluctantly, it laid its head to rest. The lad quickly rinsed himself with cold water, got dressed in his Sundas best and went down to get something to eat before starting his daily routine.   On his way to the pantry he bumped into no one other than the famous (in her own opinion, at least) Aza. Her breasts, safe and protected by the sturdy, yet scantly armor, brushed his shoulder conjuring shivers down his spine.   “Did you sleep well, ma’am?” He asked casually, trying to back away. As if sensing his uneasiness, she wrapped her arm around his waist and pulled him closer. Their hips clashed, his eyes met with hers.   “Everything beats sleeping on the bare ground, lad. Did you sleep well? Had any pleasant dreams?” She asked with a disturbing grin, as her hand wandered dangerously close to his buttocks. Erik squirmed out of her grasp, slamming his back against the wall. The woman laughed, pleased on the effect she had on him.   Did she know what torture she caused him last night? That she-dremora! He couldn’t find the proper word for what she was doing to him, but he was sure it was something that men did to helpless young maidens, not the other way around. She was enjoying herself, whilst he felt so… unclean. Even though he didn’t do anything! Anything at all!   “I’ll be outside, bring me meat and a cold drink. And maybe something sweet for dessert? Yeah, some fruit will do.” She ordered nonchalantly, leaving boy to his humiliation.   Erik had the strange feeling she planned to stick around for longer.   ---   “Rabbit!” Aza exclaimed when he laid the plate before her. She chose to dine at one of the tables behind the inn. “I love rabbit! Leaving so soon? Sit! I could use some company. I hadn’t spoken to a living soul in days!” She urged, seeing that Erik was about to leave. He knew this wouldn’t end well for him, yet he sat on a bench opposite to the Redguard. It was still early, the morning mist flew at a snail's pace over the plains.   “So, you want to get out of here and find fame and fortune?” She innocently asked, chewing off a piece of rabbit leg and washing it down with ale.   “Yes!” He admitted enthusiastically. His whole face lit up, making him look even younger.   “Roam the wilderness, explore caves and forgotten ruins, right?”   “Yes!” He nodded energetically.   “Fall into an Orc ambush and get raped in the ass all night long by three restless Berserkers?”   “Y… what?” He was so dumbfounded by her sudden question, that he forgot to close his mouth. Aza finished her rabbit and ale, then reached for a pear he brought for dessert.   “Life out there is nothing what you hear in the bard songs.” She said, taking a bite. Ripe juice dripped down her fingers and wrist but she paid no mind. “You’re on your own, you eat poorly or nothing at all, food poisoning is common. You sleep uneasy and uncomfortably. You go for days without a decent bath, sometimes you even catch lice…” she paused to spit out a seed. “If you’re stupid or careless you get fucked. Literally and figuratively. And there is always someone out for your head, your stuff… your ass. So think twice, lad. You got a real sweet deal here, do you want to leave it all behind for some juvenile dream?“ She asked, peering into Erik’s eyes, with seriousness he wouldn’t expect of her.   “I…” Erik mustered up all his will “I still want to do it.” He wanted it more than anything! Becoming an adventurer was his dream! She wasn’t going to scare him off.   “You’re either stupid or stubborn. Probably both.” She concluded. “You should get up and storm out now, you know?”   “Well, that’s exactly what I was going to do!” He said angrily. But though Erik was serious about leaving, the sudden warmth and pressure on his groin stopped him. By the Gods, she somehow managed to slip her feet out of her boots and was now giving him a dirty massage! And she had some nimble toes.   “Did I catch your attention?” Aza’s face was somehow the picture of innocence, though her feet moved with cool professionalism.   “Stop it, someone could see.” He pleaded, trying not to pant. He dug his nails into the tabletop, feeling red flushing his cheeks.   “That’s the fun part, boy. Now undo your pants. I want to feel your foreskin.” She ordered, laying back on the bench. With the sudden move, her breasts jiggled merrily.   “No.” He said, trying to keep his voice calm. He wanted to slap her in the face, bend her over the table and… Do things the Orcs did. Only harder. For a moment this sudden dark thought made him feel incredibly aroused… and guilty immediately afterwards.   “Oh, why is that? Not the foot type, are you? Then maybe I should crawl under the table and give you a nice blowjob? Or a boobjob? Come on, I don’t believe you don’t want to feel my tits squeezing your cock. And I can do wonders with my tongue. I could fit your whole shaft in my mouth without a blink.” Her good eye flickered.   He had no reasons not to believe her. She’d do that. Perhaps a lot more. Playing with him would give ger a lot of satisfaction. Seducing a simple farmboy during one of her adventures would surely count as a small triumph for her. And with that sudden realization, his mind cleared and his blood cooled.   “I would love that. Really. But the answer is still no. It’s too humiliating.” And with that, he gently slid her feet of him. Divines, he wanted it, he wanted to shove his dick so deep down her throat that her eyes would get all watery. And then he would cum giving her no pause to catch her breath and make her swallow every last drop. But in the back of his head there was adamant certainty he would feel even worse afterwards.   “Oh…” For the first time the Redguard forgot her tongue. She picked her boots from under the table and put them back on in no apparent hurry.   “I mean it!” Erik assured, trying to keep his confidence from fleeing. He gave her a daring look, almost positive that she was going to beat him into a bloody pulp now. But she did no such thing.   “I know you do” her voice suddenly softened. “Okay… If you really want to make it big, I can help you convince your pa.”   “Y… you can?” He asked, blinking with disbelief. Aside from his complete inexperience, Mralki’s disapproval was the biggest obstacle keeping him from fulfilling his dream.   “I can be quite convincing. Trust me. Now, that shed your father owns… If you’re that desperate, you’ll meet me there tonight, after everyone goes to sleep. And once inside… there will be no turning back, little hero. You’ll be mine and do exactly what I tell you, understood? And if you don’t show up… You won’t see me in the morning. You’ll forget everything and go back to your comfortable and dull life.”   “But…!” He was about to express his doubt, but her raised palm stopped him.   “No, you shut up now and think it over. Toss it around in your head. Either come see me in the shed or don’t. Whatever you do, I’m happy. Helping you is just my whim. Nod if you understand.” Erik nodded hesitantly. “Good. Now take those dirty dishes and leave me be.” Aza’s voice grew impatient. She rested her crossed legs on the table and stared at the clear sky. The lad took the plate and tankard and went back inside the inn.    “Crazy wench!” He thought.   “Definitely a virgin.” She thought.

Chapter 2 - The Guest

Once inside the inn, he noticed a Redguard woman sitting at the counter. Erik could only see her back. And there was a lot of her back to see, as she was wearing next to nothing to cover it. His father was generously pouring mead into her tankard whilst making idle chatter. Beside the tankard was a plate with salmon and grilled leeks. She must have paid up front and generously, as Mralki was in an obviously good mood.   “Aye, with the war ongoing, dragons are the last thing Skyrim needs… Ah, there you are!” Father said as he noticed him. “Prepare the room for the lady, she’ll be staying here tonight. And by the Eight, make sure the bed is made properly this time” he reminded sternly.   The woman looked over her shoulder and smiled. The white of her teeth was a sharp contrast to her dark skin. Her right eye was milky white and opaque, the other dark green.   “Don’t worry lad, I won’t bite you if the sheets are a bit wrinkly.” She promised, blinking her blind eye.   Erik suddenly felt his mouth was completely dry. The woman was clearly an adventurer herself! Though a Redguard, she was wearing armor fashioned after Nord heroes of old. The armor fitted her perfectly, complimenting her wide hips, strong legs and what he could only guess, ripe rump.   “I’ll see to it then,” he somehow managed to mumble and quickly retreated, feeling a sudden bulge growing in his pants.   Inside the room, he gathered all his strength to calm down the beast inside him. “Not here, not now!” He sternly told himself, trying to ignore the images his mind kept painting before his eyes. Did Erik notice little colorful beads decorating the few braids that fastened her hair on the back of her head? Did he see the deep line between her breasts, as she bend back and drank her mead? And by the Divines, her smell… The smell of steel and sweat shed by a healthy body.   He made the bed, prepared a jug of water, a clean cup and a plate of apples. On the nightstand he placed a folded cloth and a small bar of soap. He also brought a bucket of hot water. These small details made the Frostfruit Inn memorable among travelers, who paid generously for their stay. Though with the ongoing war travelers were few and far between.   With a sigh, he turned to leave the room. This was his life - making beds and cleaning rooms. And when he wasn’t busy at the inn, he was occupied with tending the humble crops he and his father grew. Oh, how he longed to free himself of such mundane tasks…!   “Ah! Such luxury! But I’m not a noble, you know?” The green-eyed woman expressed, standing at the door. She was still clutching her tankard and smiling, no… leering. For a second Erik felt a hole in his belly. He envied her! He longed to be like her! Carefree and… alive. Going wherever she pleased, righting wrongs, fighting the good fight, feeling the wind in her hair… Hear beautiful black hair…   “I’m… just going to leave you ma’am” he stuttered, trying to maneuver himself between her and the doorframe. Unfortunately, he forgot about the treacherous dragon raising its head underneath the fabric of his pants. It brushed against the Redguard’s thigh, giving away his shameful secret.   “Ooh… Is this service extra?” She asked as little sparkles danced in her green eye.   “By the Gods, I…” he managed to utter, but she had no interest in listening. She pinned him against the wall with her chest and slid her knee between his legs, gently enough not to hurt him. Fruitlessly, Erik tried to apologize, but she paid him no mind, drinking the rest of her mead in one loud gulp, then tossing the tankard in the corner. Her thigh was steadily sliding back and forth between his legs, making his erection even more hopeless. No woman had ever teased him like that. To be honest, no woman had ever touched him below the waist.   “Ma’am, please…”   “Hush, boy” she purred, tickling the side of his neck with her nose. Erik felt the warmth of her breath and a faint smell of honey. His nascent stubble brushed against her ear. Then, came a short pinch of pain, as she bit his neck. He could only sigh aggravated by her aggressive advances. But they weren’t alone, he had to get back to work. And this was so sudden and wrong after all… Right?   “Erik! Come help me with the guests!” Mralki called, dispelling whatever was happening. The adventurer peeled herself from the lad with a disappointed frown. Her leg finally stopped rubbing his groin.   “Pity. But duty calls, eh?” She said with a sigh.   “I’m… sorry.” Erik felt the heat of embarrassment on his cheeks.   “Don’t be! You’re a young lad. It happens sometimes.” She dismissed casually as if a moment ago she wasn’t sinking her teeth into his flesh.   “Goodnight!” He excused himself, turning around to get back to work. Just as he felt the excitement pass, there was a pat on the shoulder. “Yes?” He asked timidly, looking over his shoulder.   “What’s your name, boy?” She asked with eyes half-shut and a smirk. She had long eyelashes and curved lines painted in the corners of her eyes.   “Erik, ma’am” he answered truthfully.   “Ah, sweet dreams then, Erik.” She bid him, sitting on the bed and struggling to take her heavy boots off. Yet, he was still standing there with a tense look on his face. “Was there something else?” She inquired finally kicking them off.   “Are you an adventurer?” He asked, nervously rubbing his sweaty palms. There was a strange longing… craving in his eyes.   “Of course! I am Aza, after all! The most adventurous adventurer in all of Tamriel! Why do you ask, lad?”   “I…”   “Erik! The lady is tired, don’t bother her with your nonsense!” His father scolded, suddenly appearing behind him. “Good night, ma’am!” He bid his gest, pulling Erik out of the room. With a last glance the lad caught the sight of the woman blowing him a kiss with an amused grin on her face.   That grin was enough to get him hard again.   “I got to go to bed, pa.” He said feverishly, praying his father wouldn’t notice a the sudden flush on his cheeks.   “Why, what’s wrong?” Mralki asked, concerned.   “Stomach ache. Goodnight!” Erik excused himself, practically bolting.   Once safely in his room he braced himself against the door, hastily undoing his pants. With just a few quick strokes he came again, covering his mouth in case father comes by and hears his frantic breathing.   Squeezing out the last drop, he slid to the floor; his legs too weak to support him. Hazily, he pressed his sweaty forehead to his shaking knees, waiting for the pounding in his chest to pass.   This was bad. Very bad.

Chapter 5 - First Steps

As Aza was a light sleeper, she woke up exactly when she intended to; an hour before sunrise.  Erik was sleeping like a log, still clinging to her side. His easy breathing tickled her nipple. At least he didn’t snore like most Nords. Aza slipped out of his embrace with little difficulty. She was a master at sneaking out without waking her bedmates. Erik mumbled something incoherent and rolled on his back, arms and legs spread wide apart. He looked so adorably helpless.   “You poor fool” Aza whispered, ruffling his ginger hair. “You’re going to get killed out there.” Her eyes were set on his half shut lips. “But not if I can help it.”   She got up and surveyed the shed, scratching herself on the crotch. Her gear was stashed away in a bundle in the corner. She stretched, then with a muttered curse picked up an overlooked bottle. She drank what was left with relief. It was time to slip back into her armor. While adjusting her pauldrons, she noticed Erik’s belt. Her brows crossed, but a second later she smiled maliciously, deciding to take it as a souvenir. She left the shed in a good mood, not paying any more attention to the sleeping whelp.   Picking the lock leading to Mralki’s room was so easy, that for a moment she wondered why he had it in the first place. She tiptoed across the room and pulled out her trusty dagger with a pirouette. With a nasty grin that came so natural to her, she jumped her unsuspecting victim. Before Mralki could gasp or scream, she pressed the cold steel against his throat.   “Shh… relax, old man. It’s me, the busty Redguard whose tits you couldn’t take your eyes off.” She whispered softly in the dark.   “T… the gold is in the barrel in the wine cellar!” Erik’s father gurgled, keeping his hands firmly pressed against the sheets. A wise choice.   “Who do you take me for?” The woman puffed offended. “I’m not after your gold! It’s your boy I wanted to talk about.”   “Erik? No, you stay away from my son, you hear me? I’m not letting you hurt him!” Despite the blade on his throat, Mralki’s voice was steady and strong. It was obvious he was attached to his son.   “Hurt him? I intend to save him!” Aza replied, loosening the grip on the dagger a bit. ”I want to spare your poor, precious boy a dull, bleak existence! Do you really want him to clean rooms and plough the field for the rest of his life? He’ll eventually grow to resent you. Then, he’ll start to hate you. And who knows, maybe one night he’ll use the very pillow you rest your head on to smother you to death in your sleep?”   “My son would never…!” Mralki’s voice was boiling with outrage.   “You don’t know your son. He’s sheltered and knows nothing of the real world. But he’s curious… Very curious…” She bit her lip, for a moment remembering the night they spend together. ”And determined to learn. So, I’m going to make you an offer. I’m going to jerk you off and you let me take the lad, or…”   “Or…?”   “Or I’m going to seduce him and take him anyway. And your gold. So, what say you, innkeep?”   Mralki said nothing, his hands slid up her tights and squeezed her firm ass. And there was a lot of ass to squeeze.   “I knew you’d make the right decision…” Aza murmured, sheathing the dagger. She needed both her hands free.   ---   The blanket slid off the stacks of hay, pointy straws were pricking his back. Erik sat up, yawned… Wait, this wasn’t his room… The events of last night slammed him in the gut with unrelenting momentum. He… he was molested, snapped, almost assaulted a woman… and got his first blowjob! And it felt good! Jerking off alone seemed like child’s play compared to shooting his cum into a deep and hot throat!   He didn’t need to look around to know he was alone. Aza was gone and from what he suspected, she was far away from Rorikstead… probably for good. Too bad…   He had to hide all traces of what happened in the shed. Quickly, he gathered his clothes and dressed himself. His belt was missing. No matter, he’ll just use a piece of rope to fasten his pants. He quickly tidied up and drank what was left of Aza’s supplies. He trembled as he remembered how her nipples felt in his mouth and how her mouth played with his cock. But he had other things to do than daydream. He had to talk to father, and then… He had no fixed plans for ‘then’.   Stepping out of the shed, Erik welcomed the morning sun. Rorikstead had just awakened, as it did the day before and would continue in an endless chain of bleak tomorrows. But that wasn’t his problem anymore.   Father was in his usual place; behind the bar. He jumped and looked over his shoulder as Erik entered the inn. He looked tired and was awkwardly leaning forward, as if he strained a muscle. His son couldn’t quite figure the look on his face; pained, yet somehow pleased.   “Erik” he said with a frown, making no comment on the fact the lad’s shirt was turned inside-out. “Sit. I think it’s time you and me had a talk…”   ---   A few days later Erik and his father were on their way back from Whiterun. As Mralki fought in the Great War, he knew what sort of equipment his boy needed. Despite the upstart’s protest, he insisted Erik got a heavier set of armor. Plain iron, to be more precise.   The road ahead was peaceful, not a bandit nor wild beast in sight, to Erik’s demise. Yet, unbeknownst to him two pairs of eyes were observing them from the nearby broken-down watchtower. Two dark red, one green and one opaque white.   “Him? He doesn’t look like much. I give him less than a week to give up or die.” Jenassa foretold, lazily stretching her back. The edge of her leather skirt rose up, revealing her slim gray thighs.   “Don’t you worry, I’ll make a man out of him!” Aza smirked, searching a recently slain bandit for valuables. A copper ring, few lockpicks and enough gold to buy a watered down drink and maybe some stale food. Not a spectacular find, but still better than nothing. The two did business in the past. This time Aza hired the unscrupulous mercenary to assist her with a bounty. She planned to have the whole issue sorted out in a day or two, then split the loot and get back to playing with Erik.   “You want to turn that milk-drinker into your pet, don’t you?” The elf asked, turning away from the Redguard and peering into the horizon. The two Nords shrunk into tiny dots vanishing in the landscape. Suddenly, she felt Aza’s arms wrapping around her waist and pulling away from the vista.   “I have nothing against milk-drinkers.” The Redguard whispered into her companion’s pointed ear a second before sliding the tip of her tongue alongside its curved edge. “After all, I am a milk-drinker myself.”   “Oh? I would have never guessed that, sera…” Jenassa murmured, as she bend forward, her leather-scanted ass pressing hard against Aza’s pubic bone. With one hand still around the elf’s waist, Aza grabbed the Dunmer’s hair and pulled it back gently, yet firm enough to make Jenassa sigh.   “I’m a big man milk-drinker, my crimson eyed beauty. But I find pleasure in the arms of women as well…” The Redguard’s whisper changed into a purr.   “Ooh… If you wish to make carnal arts with me, sera, you…” The mercenary was about to name her price, but she caved in when Aza bit her ear. “You… You do not have to pay me a broken Septim. Let’s make a masterpiece!”   “I knew you’d be eager to share your talents with me, Jen. On your palms and knees, ass up in the air.” Aza stressed her order by a harder tug, before releasing her companion’s hair.   Jenassa was lithe and agile. Still standing, she bent forward and pressed her palms flat to the stone floor. Aza rolled her skirt up, not surprised that the Dunmer wore no undergarments.   “That’s impressive, now on all fours!” She said, giving her a spank with both hands, leaving dark marks on the elf’s skin.   Obediently, yet with a pout, Jenassa got on all-fours, waiting for the Redguard’s next move. Squatting down, Aza slammed her palms against the Dark Elf’s cheeks and forcefully spread them wide, revealing her pussy. She whistled impressed by the exotic sight. Elves had no body hair; Jenassa’s slit was perfectly smooth. Her outer lips were of a darker tint, but as the adventurer’s thumbs spread them, in view came the bright pink center.   “Damn, I could stare at you all day long!”   “I hope you intend to do more than that.”   “I can make you beg for more and to stop at the same time.” Aza assured, moistening her thumbs. One she slid painfully slowly into the mercenary’s tight opening, the other was busy rubbing the clit. Jenassa closed her eyes, thankful no one could see her delighted expression so unfit for a Dark Elf.   “You’re wet already?” Aza asked surprised, when she noticed her thumbs were coated with love juices. She inserted the other thumb inside Jenassa and opened her vagina wide. The hireling cried, feeling the breeze so deep inside her.   “Taste me, sera! Taste me, damn it!” She pleaded, rocking her ass back and forth.   “How could I say no when you’re asking so nicely?” Aza rolled her tongue and slid it inside the wet, velvet hole. An elf’s exactly what she needed. The taste was sweet and slightly spicy, like honey mixed with a pinch of sharp pepper. She pulled her tongue out, slid alongside the whole length, then tickled the hardening clit.   “Mmm… Nerevar!” The Dunmer grunted.   “I doubt Nerevar could pleasure you the way I can.” With that, the adventurer lied down on her back and slid under the elf. The bald pussy was right above her face. Light glimmered in a drop of dew that dripped straight into the Redguard’s opened mouth. She slapped Jenassa on the butt, urging to lower her ass and spread her legs wider.   “Ah, chew on it, you cruel wench!”   “You don’t mean that literally, do you?” Not waiting for a reply or even expecting one, Aza closed her lips on the mercenary’s pearl and sucked hard, grinding her flattened tongue against it. To make her companion wail louder, she reached for her trusty dagger and without warning shoved the hilt inside.   “Ah, bastard of a diseased harlot!” Jenassa cried, yet it was neither a frightened nor pained sound.   “Taste real Skyforge Steel, bitch!”   “Ugh, it’s cold…!”   “Then let me slide it deeper so you can properly warm it up!” Aza laughed, pushing the hilt to the limit. The Dunmer breathed fast and loud, her hips started shaking. More juice leaked from within to satisfy the adventurer’s tongue.   “Ah… Azura, I’m coming!” Jenassa cried out when her body was fired up by a fiery orgasm. Her walls squeezed the hilt so hard, that Aza couldn’t move the dagger an inch in either direction. The Dunmer collapsed, calling the various Daedra that looked over her people. When she finally collected herself, she rolled off the Redguard and laid on her back with legs wide apart and knees bend. Her hair was in a mess, tears and sweat smeared her yellow war paint. Her pussy was still dripping, marking her thighs and the stone floor.   “I take it you enjoyed yourself? Mephala’s sweet titties and Boethiah’s she-cock? Haven’t heard swears like that before.” Aza said with an amused smirk. She wiped her mouth and then dagger, before sheathing it.   “I hope you’re not expecting a thank you.” Jenassa huffed with displeasure. Her legs were still shaking, but she started to go back to her normal collected self.   “I expect you to miss me a bit when I’m out defiling my sweet virgin boy.”   “That… I can promise you.” The elf’s crimson eyes flickered.   “Will you give me a kiss to remember you by when we part?” The Redguard asked promiscuously.   “Only if you wish to have your tongue bitten off, sera.” Jenassa replied politely.   “You’re no fun!”   ---   “Slayer? Of what, skeevers in your pa’s cellar?” She asked when he told her his new name.   “I have to have a name that makes an impression!” Erik grunted. She was back as if nothing had happened. A day after he returned home with father, she walked through the inn’s door and first thing she did was criticize him.   “Alright, alright, spare me your little peeves. Erik the Slayer… You’re going to have to earn that title, but it can be done. So, have you packed your things?” She asked giving him a hard nudge in the arm.   “For what?” Erik asked, rubbing his shoulder. “Don’t let her know how much she gets to you” he reminded himself.   “For the adventure of your life!“ She announced. “What, did you think I’m just going to let you go and get murdered out there?” She asked, seeing horror wash over his face. “I set you free, so now you’re my responsibility, pup. Tell you what, I’m going to order ale from your dearest daddy and when I’m done with it, you better be prepared.”   “Be right back.” Erik said with a sigh.   As he went upstairs, Aza approached Mralki at the bar. The innkeeper looked away with disgust, energetically wiping the counter.    “Iron?” She asked, raising her brow, referring to Erik’s choice of armor.   “I don’t want his guts ripped out by some skooma-crazed bandit!” The innkeeper snapped, slamming his palms against the wood. Aza didn’t even flinch.   “Your boy is quick and he’s got a reflex, heavy armor will only slow him down. I’m going to get him some nice studded leather. Oh, pour me some ale, will you? I’m weary from the road.” She requested, imagining Erik in a tight set of leather armor that would reveal his long legs.   “If you get my son killed or crippled for life…” Mralki warned, pouring her a drink. His hand clenched the tankard hard enough to make his knuckles white. Aza took the drink, and maintaining eye contact took a sip.   “If that happens, it’s going to be his own fault. Trust me…” for this brief moment the look on her face was dead serious “I’m going to take care of him. I promise.”   “You better. Take your drink outside. I want to say my goodbyes without you eavesdropping. Keep the damned tankard.” Mralki’s tone was cold, yet Aza knew he trusted her enough to let Erik leave with her.   “Sure thing.” She said amicably as she got up. “Oh, and Mralki!” She called as she was halfway through the door. “When the right time comes, I’m going to fuck his brains out.”   Before Mralki could leap through the bar and choke the damned wretch, she slammed the door. A second later Erik walked down the stairs.   “I’m leaving, pa.” He said, staring at the floor.   “Of course you are. It’s what you always wanted.” Mralki said, unclenching his fists to pat him on the shoulder. He had so much to tell his boy. “Erik… go. You and I well know what we want to say, so there’s no need to get all weepy about it, right? Look after yourself, and… Be careful around that woman. She’ll watch your back, but you need to understand that women are devious.” He warned, lowering his voice.   “I know, pa. I know.” Erik assured, remembering the night he met Aza.   “Good. Stay safe.” Father said, not looking him in the eyes.   “Okay… And pa? I left most of my things. I’m… going to return home one day, so I saw no point in taking them.”   “Of course, Erik. You are my son and you will always have a place here. Don’t do anything stupid and when you get the chance, slip a note through a courier. I’ll pay them on the delivery.”   ---   Aza finished her ale and threw the tankard in the bushes. She felt the boy’s presence just two steps behind her.   “You’re not going to cry, are you?” She asked, not bothering to turn around. She marveled at the sun setting over the plains. Whiterun was a bit plain for her tastes, but the sunsets over the tundra were always incredible.   “No. Let’s go.” Erik’s voice was surprisingly calm as he stood beside her. Once again, Aza realized that there was more to him than met the eye.   “We’re going to Falkreath. I hear the Jarl of has some bounties laying around. You know how to use that?” She asked, pointing at his steel axe.   “I was chopping wood since I was eight.”   “Wonderful. Come on.”   They left Rorikstead in silence. The sun had almost set, coloring everything in shades of red and orange. When they were far away from any settlements, she suddenly stopped.   “This is where I’m going to teach you your first lesson.” She explained calmly.   Out of nowhere, she whipped Erik’s forgotten belt and cast it around his ankle, sharply pulling the leather loop. The lad fell with a surprised cry. The setting sky did a barrel roll before he hit his head against the ground. He knew her well enough not to ask, but react. He tried to get up, but a well-placed kick in the gut, just below the iron chestpiece, paralyzed him with pain. He groaned and curled into a ball, fighting not to puke himself.   “No, ‘why me’ or ‘what did I do’? Good, you’re learning” She noted, stepping on his wrist when he tried to reach for his axe. Erik’s hand was immediately immobilized, sharp pain radiated up to his elbow.   “Damn, you Aza!” He shouted. “I should have known this was a trick!”   She grabbed him by the collar of his armor and pulled up, only to knock him back down with a punch. Blood spurted from between his smashed lips.   “This is for your own good, kid. You see, I might have forgiven your little outburst when we were frolicking in the shed, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten it. You cut my forehead and slapped me in the face. I’m just setting the scores so there’s no bad blood between us.” She explained, landing a kick at his lower back. As Erik tried his best not to scream, he couldn’t help releasing a pitiable grunt.   “Ugh… That all you got?” He gurgled, spitting out blood mixed with saliva.   “This serves a purpose, you know. Sooner or later someone is bound to beat the shit out of you. It might as well be me. Now shut up and take it like a man!” Aza commanded, throwing punches and kicks with calm accuracy.   And Erik took it like a man. For entire five minutes, before he passed out in a pool of blood, urine and disgrace.   “Get up!” Aza shouted, twisting his arm out of its joint. The pain immediately restored his consciousness and all the suffering that came with it. “If you don’t get up and start walking this instance, I’m leaving you here! I swear on Hircine’s hairy balls, if you don’t pull yourself together, you can crawl back to your daddy!”   “I’m up. Get off me, you crazy bitch!” He mumbled through swollen lips, feebly trying to push her off. Thank Stendarr, his teeth were still intact, though one molar got dangerously loose in its gum. He slowly stood up, walked a few steps, then with incredible effort managed not to puke all over himself. Trying to focus his blurry vision, he noticed the belt lying on the ground.   “Leave it!” The Redguard warned. “It’s not yours anymore. And I don’t want it back. Now walk, there’s a long road ahead of us.”   Without a word of protest he followed Aza’s pace. The sun had set, yet she had no intention of lighting a lantern or torch to illuminate their path. Perhaps it was for the best, that Erik’s face was obscured in the dark. Every few steps he had to stop to spit out some blood, and then continued following her in complete silence.   And that was Erik’s first lesson about consequences, pain, and how dignity is something you learn to lose first.

Chapter 8 - A Bit of Comfort

“Ugh, this tastes like… Well, I had a lot of disgusting things in my mouth, but trust me, this is one of the grossest!” Aza burped, throwing the empty bottle into the canal.   “What was that potion for?”   “Contraceptive. I’m not risking getting knocked up by some bandit scum.” She muttered.   They reached Riften shortly after sunrise on the second day. First, they visited the Temple of Mara where a healer took care of their wounds. From there, they went to the alchemist to stock up on cure disease and contraceptive potions. They were on their way to the blacksmith to buy her a new set of armor. Erik tried to convince her they should get a room at the Bee and Barb, so she could get some rest after hiking for so long with barely any sleep, but she was stubborn.   “I’m not going to sleep easily knowing I have no armor!” She insisted.   “Well, you look nice.” He said, seeing her strong, yet curvy figure bulging underneath the plain clothes.   “Aww, Erik!” She said pressing her palm to her chest. “You say the sweetest things!”   “But you do look better.” Erik said, examining her face. The swelling was gone, but she had a black eye. She had a few burns and bruises as well, but overall looked much better. Her pace was faster, but not as fast as her usual tempo. And she started nagging and criticizing, which was a very good sign.   The blacksmith was a huge man, who had a surprisingly pleasant disposition. Aza ordered a set of steel armor with pauldrons and matching pairs of steel cuffed boots and gauntlets. The blacksmith insisted that they pay less, saying something about Fire Salts and being a good friend to him. They were more than happy to oblige. They sold him some of the looted weapons and miscellaneous items for a small, but fair sum. Erik left his new axe for sharpening, and they headed towards the Bee and Barb.   “My, is that you? I almost didn’t recognize you underneath all those bruises!” A woman called after them.   “Haelga!” If Erik didn’t know his companion that well, he would mistake her tone for friendly. “How’s it going?”   “Good.” The woman replied, jerking the corners of her lips upward. Her eyes remained cold and scrutinized the Redguard form head to toe.   She was the most attractive Nord female Erik had ever seen. Fair, golden haired and azure-eyed. She was beautiful, but there was something cold and arrogant about her.   “What happened? Rough night?” The woman asked insincerely.   “You could say that. We got ambushed by bandits who raped me the entire night and would have surely killed me, if it weren’t for Erik here. He can do wonders with an axe.” Aza said with an innocent smile as if she was talking about the weather.   “Oh…” Haelga was speechless.   “Yep, rough night indeed. But I’m sure you know what a rough night really looks like, eh?”   “Now wait just a minute!” Haelga puffed offended.   “Sorry, no time.” Aza sighed, turning her back on her. “I puked all their cum out after my boy here decapitated the chief and I’m hungry like a wolf!”   They left the dumbfounded Nord woman and entered the inn.   “Who was that?” He asked, making no note of Aza’s shocking and vulgar behavior. He got used to it.   “A bitch and a hypocrite. She owns the local bunkhouse and fucks anyone she pleases. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but it really annoys me when someone of little moral standards excuses themselves with religion and acts all holier than thou, you know? ‘Dibellan arts’, my arse!”   “Should we get a room and order our food upstairs?” He suggested.   “No. I want to dine here, with other people.”   “You’re sure you don’t want to get some rest and… you know, put all that happened behind?”   “You mean forget? Never!” She refused downright.   They ordered their food along with booking a room and a bath, then sat at one of the tables. Erik just realized how hungry he was.   “Eat properly! I swear, you’re just like…” She was about to scold him, but suddenly fell silent.   “Like who?” He asked curious.   “Never mind.” She said, reaching for the bread.   “Sure, whatever… So, what did you mean when you said you don’t want to forget?”   “I meant that I’ll move on, sure. But I have no intention of forgetting. This happened. I survived. And came out of it with more scars, but… Ah, you get the general idea, right?” She yawned as Erik nodded.   “Listen…” this seemed the right moment to ask the question that was bothering him all the way to Riften.   “Yea?” She asked raising her brow. He was going to ask about…   “How’d you know Telrav wasn’t a travelling merchant?” To her relief, he was preoccupied with that small detail.   “Before I had to take up what you call adventuring, I’ve spend most of my life among travelling merchants back in Hammerfell.” She said with a relieved sigh. He didn’t ask about the Shout… yet. Instead, their acquaintance came to the point where he was interested in her personal history.   “What I call adventuring? So, what do you call this sort of life?”   “Surviving and running.” She explained patiently.   “Why do you say you had to take it up?” He inquired further. He didn’t know anything meaningful about her. And he just realized that he really wanted to.   “Erik, I’m too tired for this… Let’s just eat and go upstairs, okay?”   “Okay” he agreed. “But you’re not laying me off that easily.”   “I noticed you’re hard to lose.” She said with a smirk.   They ate in silence, but Erik couldn’t help feeling they were being watched. And they were.   “That guy over there is staring at you.” He whispered, pointing his fork to her right.   “He’s on my blind side. I can’t see him without getting obvious. What does he look like?”   “Well…” Erik surveyed the man with the corner of his eye. “Nord. Red hair. Goatee. Green eyes. Fine dressed.” He enumerated, trying not to sound jealous. The stranger was the most eye-catching kinsman he had ever seen. Erik wasn’t attracted to other men, but he had to admit, that one sure was something.   “Brynjolf. I know him.”   “You do?” Erik suddenly felt strange certainty Aza bedded him. What woman wouldn’t? “Oh…”   “Oh, don’t give me that look!” She puffed, knowing the reason behind his concern. “I hadn’t slept with him. And I never will.”   “Well, the leer he’s giving you says otherwise.”   “Erik” she said, smiling warmly and pulling herself closer, “he’s not looking at me. He’s looking at you.”   The lad felt as if someone whipped him alongside his spine. He nervously glanced to the red-haired man. He was smiling disturbingly and raising his mug. Aza turned towards him and did the same. Erik raised his mug as well, and quickly looked away.   After the meal, Erik picked their sacks and followed her to the room. Their current place to stay was roomier than the inns he got used to. The interior was wooden and scarcely decorated, but the bed was not a mere hay mattress with furs pulled over it, but had eiderdown pillows and a thick, soft mattress. The bath was lavish as well, the tub was big enough to fit two people.   “Gods, I needed this!” The Redguard confessed, pulling her tunic over her head. She quickly slid into the tub, undoing her braids and ruffling her thick black hair. “Care to join me?” She asked.   “No thanks. I’ll just watch.” Erik declined, sitting on the bed. He was tired, his muscles were tendrils of pain. But he had no intention of sleeping. Riften was the first big city he had ever been to aside from Whiterun, but he always visited the capital of his hold accompanying father when he was on business. He was curious of Riften. He lazily observed his companion, as she dunked and bobbed up, water dripping lazily from her breasts…   “Do you take pleasure in peeping on bathing women?” She asked jokingly, noticing his blissful look.   “Only Redguards.” He answered truthfully, for a second drifting away to one of his most pleasant childhood memories. He scratched his still fresh scar. He would never grow hairs on it. He walked up to the small mirror hanging on the wall to get a good look at it. “Gods…” he whispered.   The cut was wide, but clean. It reached from his cheek, ending on the edge of his jawline only to continue on the side of his neck. It was still red, but should fade away in a matter of weeks. He noticed that there was something different about his face. During those few days he gained a certain grim maturity. After what he’d seen and done, he wasn’t surprised to notice rows on his forehead, and a new, determined look in his eyes.   “Yes, yes, you’re going to be breaking hearts soon! Now come and wash my back, I can’t reach with my arms still pained.” She called out.   “You wouldn’t mind if I loitered around the city a bit?” He asked, getting behind her and gently scrubbing her skin. Water dripped from her hair causing it to shine intensely in the morning light slipping through the window.   “I’m not your nanny, do whatever you damned please. While you’re gone, I’m going to bed with my best friend; hard liquor!” She announced carefreely, bending forward so that he could work her lower back as well.   “Okay. I’ll be back before sundown. And I’ll bring your armor while I’m at it.” He offered, trying to make no mention of her bruises, cuts and scratches.   “Sure. But Erik!” She looked over her shoulder. “Be careful. This is Riften, home to the Thieves Guild. And the Black-Briars, a clan of backstabbers and criminals.”   “I’ll try not to get into any trouble.” He assured.   “Good. And don’t take any valuables with you. Even the lowliest local footpad could rob you of your shirt without you noticing.” She warned.   “Okay. I’ll just take a few coins to buy myself a drink. I’ll see you later.” He said, walking out of the room.   “Come back soon. I get bored easily.” Aza whispered, writhing her hair. She finished her bath and stepped out of the tub. Without bothering with drying herself, she fell on the bed naked and reached for a bottle of Hammerfell rum that was ordered with the room and bath. An expensive purchase, but she needed it. She chugged, feeling the familiar burning in her throat and stomach. That was the stuff! But she had no intention of sleeping yet. She had to do some pondering.   ---   Erik wandered idly around Riften, listening on people’s conversations and marveling over Lake Honrich, but he was mostly thinking. About his life, himself, Aza… She was… okay. He still considered her an unpredictable wench, but he now knew he could trust her. And she could act decent. For a short moment, but it still counted. He was weary of the lower levels of the city, near the canal, and kept mostly to the market district. He saw Mistveil Keep, which was far more impressive than Dragonsreach. The air was warm and smelled of birch and honey. This morning was just enough to relax him after smelling so much blood and sweat.   He always liked listening to any news left by travelers passing through Rorikstead. But the little hamlet was nothing compared to a big and thriving city full of people. The news and rumors they passed from one to another were disturbing. The civil war was still ongoing, and now this talk of dragons… And the Dragonborn. Folk were saying that the appearance of the Gods’ chosen meant this was the end of an era. Or the end of times. But that was just crazy talk. Or so they hoped.   As this was Stormcloak territory, he had a completely new perspective on the situation brewing in Skyrim. Truth be told, he and his father secretly worshiped Talos. Still, he had no interest in politics and the affairs of the lords, as he was preoccupied with the troubles of the common people; beasts, bandits, monsters… dragons maybe?   It was now late in the afternoon, he had to get back. Finally feeling the lack of sleep slowly paying its toll on him, he head towards the Scorched Hammer for the armor and axe. He approached Balimund, the smith, over at his forge.   “Your friend’s armor is ready, lucky I already had a set forged, it only needed some adjustments. But the axe needed a bit more attention. The blade was severely jagged, that’s usual when you…” the blacksmith paused, “… use it too much.”   “Wood. I swung it too hard and it got stuck in a tree trunk.” Erik calmly lied. The smith knew the youngster was lying, but it wasn’t any of his business. Weapons were made to be used, not carried around to impress people.   “Right, ten bits extra” he named the price.   “Sure.” Erik reached for his coinpurse. It was missing. “Damn it!”   “This must be yours, lad!” Behind him appeared the red-haired man who wouldn’t take his eyes off him in the morning. “You dropped it.” He said with a friendly smile.   There was something disturbingly alluring about his accent. Erik took his money back without a word and paid for the repair. Aza was right, Riften was dangerous underneath the sleepy facade. The blacksmith made no comment on the scene.   “So, Balimund, how’s business?” Brynjolf asked, whilst Erik was busy gathering his gear. The upstart nodded as a farewell, positive he would be followed.   “None of yours.” The blacksmith replied gravely.   “Ah, I bid you good day, then!” The rogue replied cheerfully and turned to catch up with Erik.   “Where?” The lad asked when Brynjolf appeared next to him. He needn’t ask to know the man was with the Guild.   “In the alley next to the Pawned Prawn. Not the most alert one, eh lad?” The thief asked, gazing into his profile. He was particularly drawn by Erik’s fresh scar.   “What do you want?” Erik abruptly asked, halting. The armor he was carrying was starting to get heavy, but he knew the rogue wouldn’t just leave him alone.   “Why so defensive?” Brynjolf asked, his sly face was somehow the picture of innocence.   He was usually into men his own age, but there was something about that whelp. He had a nice, boyish face, but there was something hard about him as well. The sharp look in his clear blue eyes and the way he tightly shut his lips suggested a recent introduction to harsh, brutal reality. And that scar… It gave him character. Brynjolf was curious how the stud would look from a different angle. On his knees and sucking his cock, for example. Were his lips as soft as they seemed? Would his eyes go watery, or would he give him a daring look and take it like a man? Would those cheeks get flushed, as he sinks his hands into that red mane and push his head to the limits…?   “Spit it out, or leave me alone. I have things to do.” Erik’s voice snapped him into reality. The lad hated being leered at like that. Man, woman, traditionalist or same sex-loving, it didn’t matter. There was only one exception to that rule. And he had to get back to her.   “Right, I can’t seem to find the lass anywhere, so I thought you could deliver a message to her.”   “Lass?“ Erik was confused. ‘Lass’ was the last thing he’d call Aza.   “Aye” the thief nodded amused. “Tell her I have a favor to ask…”   “I hope it’s not anything illicit”.   “Sharp lad. No, it’s something more… personal. Ask her to meet me as soon as possible. And tell her…” For a moment he was hesitant. “I’m desperate.” He said looking away.   Erik nodded. Brynjolf left him and headed towards the secret entrance to the Ragged Flagon. He needed a drink to drown his problems. And to cool his loins down.   The whelp was about to enter the inn, but he noticed a Dunmer merchant clearing her stall after a long day of hard work. She was packing crushed ice into leather sacks, whistling a tune. That gave him an idea.   ---   “I’m back! I got your armor and a little something!” He said, entering the room. “What are you doing?” He asked suddenly, surprised at what was waiting for him.   “I was waiting for you. Dump your spoils in the corner.” Aza said approaching him.   The tub was gone and the room was candlelit. The air bore the smell of exotic spices. Her dark skin was glossy and smelled of scented oils. She wore nothing, her hair was loose and disheveled, but somewhat appealing. In the soft, warm light he could see she was intoxicated.   “How much did you drink?” He asked, putting the items away.   “A lot. But I’m slowly sobering up, you were away for so long.” She confessed, putting her hands on her hips.   “I see you’ve been busy.” He said cautiously. What was she up to this time?   “I wanted to make the place look nice for your return.” She said with a whimsy smile, trying her best not to fall over.   “Um… why?” He had a bad feeling about this.   “Because…” she made one step forward and tripped over her own feet. Erik got to her just in time to keep her from falling. “Because…” she went on, looking him in the eyes. “You’re going to have sex with me tonight.”   “What? Stop joking around!” He said, pulling her up. She was pleasantly slippery. “Come on, off to bed with you! I have to get some sleep as well.” He instructed, leading het towards the bed.   “We both know this will happen eventually.” She foretold as she sat on its edge. Erik turned around and started undoing his armor. “Why not have it over with now, when we have a nice room to stay and enough gold not to worry about tomorrow?”   “I reckon half of it is already gone.” He guessed, throwing his armor on the chair.   “We have enough to live modestly starting tomorrow. But about tonight…” She reached to grab his hand, but he turned around. Her hand found nothing and clenched thin air.   “Go to sleep.” He said softly. He was tired.   “Okay, I get it.” She replied calmly, bowing her head. “I understand you don’t want me, knowing how many I had, willingly or not. Goodnight.” She bid him, faking a smile. She rested on her side, her back facing him.   “Damn it…” he sighed, undoing his loincloth. “Hey, it’s not like that.” He said, sitting at the very same spot she was occupying just a second ago.   “It’s okay. No need to explain yourself.” She dismissed, not bothering to look over her shoulder.   “Aza…” he softly whispered, lying beside her. “Come on, look at me, you stupid wretch.” He pleaded, putting his hand on her shoulder and gently turning her over.   “I don’t want your pity!” She puffed, allowing him to wrap his arms around her.   “Who says I pity you?” He laughed. “I know we’ll eventually end up in bed. I’m not that oblivious, you know.”   “So, why not now?” She nagged, burying her face in his chest.   “Because I don’t want to ‘get it over with’. When you’ll mount me and take me for the ride of my life, I want it to be memorable.”   “Oh my special little snowflake!” She sneered. “And I assume you’ll want me to be gentle and whisper softly into your ear?”   “Whatever works for you.”   “Dumb virgin.” She muttered. Just a few days earlier, he’d do anything to get laid. Why hesitate now?   “Mean harlot.” He struck back, holding her tighter. “I know you had legions before me. I don’t mind. I knew from the start, what a nasty wretch you are. I’m not bothered.”   “Watch it there, kid!” She warned, sinking her nails into his back.   “I’m not a kid anymore.” He corrected. “By the way, your friend from earlier in the inn said he needs to ask you a favor. And he’s desperate.” He said, stressing out the last word.   “I’ll look into it in the morning. Goodnight.” She sighed, attempting to turn around again, but Erik was holding her too tight.   “Off to sleep so soon?” He asked, suddenly feeling invigorated. He knew what he should do now. And he wanted to do it badly.   “What else can I do after being so cruelly turned down by you?”   “I have an idea.” His hand slid from her back, down her oiled skin, and squeezed her buttock. “I won’t let you take my innocence tonight, but I thought… You were so nice to me, so maybe you’ll finally let me return the favor?”   “Oh?” Her voice had that lecherous tone he knew so damned well. “And what did you have in mind?” She asked, looking up to meet with his eyes. Erik was smiling supposedly promiscuous. He was terrible at it.   “I bet none of those bastards ever bothered to use their mouths and loosen you up a bit.”   “Yeah, the likes of them are all talk. No skill whatsoever.” She agreed.   “Maybe I could give you a nice comforting lick to help you sleep better? Or maybe two? Or just enough to make you come?” He proposed.   Aza said nothing, instead gently nibbling on his throat. Damned brat. But she could use some oral service.   “Ask me to do it.” He ordered, slipping lower and caressing her breasts. His tongue met with the warm skin, the mixture of sweat and oils tasted sweet and a bit salty.   “Lick my pussy, Erik. I want to feel your tongue and lips.” She pleaded, arching her back.   “It shall be done, my lady.” He declared chivalrous, sliding his tongue between her tits.   “Oh, shut up and get to work.”   Erik knew that there will come a time when the Redguard will make a man out of him. But not tonight. This night he had to give her a bit of comfort, do something nice for her. And finally taste a woman’s pussy. He slid off the bed and sat on the floor. Aza laid down across it, with her legs over the edge and her feet resting firmly on the wooden flooring.   “Take it slow, I’m still a bit bruised.” She asked, putting a pillow under her head.   “And you wanted to do me…” he laughed, stroking her inner thighs. She had a scar on her left thigh. One of many that marked her body.   “Shut up, I can take you!”   “Sure you can. Relax.”   Erik slid his tongue alongside the whole slit, from the entrance to the clitoris and the strip of dark hairs. The scent coming from within her was the smell of a human body, but it wasn’t unpleasant. He carefully spread her labials, exposing the tender inner walls. They weren’t puce as he remembered, but blood red, so hurt and delicate. He blew a stream of cold air at her pussy. The little opening shut tighter, still pained and dry. He cautiously spread her lips wider, watching for any signs of discomfort. He thoroughly moistened his tongue and focused on her pale, perky clit. Erik carefully tickled it with the tip of his tongue, allowing his saliva to flow from his mouth onto her vagina.   “Blow some more air at it.” Aza instructed. She was observing him patiently, her hand sunk into his hair.   Erik followed her instruction. She purred pleased, spreading her legs wider. Her breathing became deeper, she exhaled slowly in quiet moans. He closed his lips around her clitoris, slowly sucking it into his mouth and grinding with his tongue. The little pearl was getting harder and bigger as he teased it eagerly. By the Gods, he dreamed of doing this to a woman, and reality was even better than fantasy! He felt her body, its texture and taste. Her smell was in the air, filling his lungs. He felt he was slowly getting an erection, but his cock would have to wait. This wasn’t about him. His finger slowly encircled her opening. He risked and gently pushed his fingertip inside.   “No, damn it, don’t put anything in me!” She hissed in pain. Her hips jerked up in a short spasm.   “Sorry” he apologized, immediately pulling his finger out. He gave her hole a few apologetic licks, angry at himself for his impatience. He then remembered he’d brought her something.   “Huh? Where are you going?” She asked when Erik got up and went to the bundle in the corner.   “I almost forgot I got something for you” he replied, reaching for the impermeable leather sack. “Close your eyes.” He said slyly, sitting back before her pussy. He opened the sack and picked a piece of ice with a regular enough shape. He suckled on her clit, pressing the ice against her entrance.   “Wha…?! Oh!” She moaned loudly. A cold compress was exactly what she needed for her itchy and grazed pussy.   “I figured you’d be drinking while I was away, so I thought I’d bring you an ice patch for the upcoming headache. But I think this is a better use of it.” He said cheerfully, rubbing the cold cube against her hot, swollen flesh.   “My, aren’t you a crafty one… Slide it inside.”   Erik pushed the ice cube into her velvet mouth, then reached for another one. He used it to soothe her hurt asshole, licking her entire slit. His other hand reached up, and squeezed her firm, heavy breast. He felt the nipple harden under his palm. He had to titfuck her sometime soon. And ask her to oil those huge tits beforehand. He pushed the cube into her asshole and reached to the sack for another piece. He had dozens of them, so he could afford to make her wet the bed and floor. And he intended to do so.   Aza moaned in sort intervals. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to be pampered by her boy. He was good at it, shrewd little bugger. She loosened up completely, her leg muscles relaxed, numbly sliding wide apart. She felt the pleasant itching and swelling inside her. The ice inside her pussy and ass cooled her burned insides, melting and leaking out. She felt the edge of the bed under her ass getting wet, as Erik kept pushing little bits of ice inside her, working his tongue and mouth on her opening, clitoris and labials. He pinched her nipples alternately, getting them to stand at full attention. His stubble tickled the shaven parts of her groin, sending shivers up to her abdomen. She was wet, she felt her juices leaking out shamefully along with the water.   “You taste great” Erik whispered, marveling at her now naturally wet pussy. He flattened his tongue and licked the now relaxed opening. The taste was salty-sweet, unlike anything he had in his mouth before. His lips pressed firmly against her entrance as he sucked out more juices mixed with water with a loud slurp. He swallowed a mouthful of her essence with a gulp. “I could do this all day” he confessed. His lips and chin were glossy in the light.   “Mind your manners.” She murmured, not bothering to open her eyes. She was tenderly ruffling his hair, letting him do whatever he pleased. “Slide your pinkie inside.”   “Sure thing” he said happily. He generously moistened his smallest finger and pushed it in. He felt her inner walls tense a bit, then loosen. He pulled out and pushed in again, feeling her close around his finger. She didn’t need the ice anymore, her thighs and ass were wet, candlelight glimmered in the droplets on her skin. Erik got back to her now flushed clitoris, pushing in and pulling his finger out.   “Oh… Damn… Mmm… Bite it. OH!” She cried when Erik closed his teeth around her tender pearl. “Oh, fu… Aah… Look at me” she pleaded. Their gazes met. Her eyes were half-shut, her lower lip was shaking. She was going to cum soon, Erik felt it. Despite the ice, her pussy was hotter, more natural dew oozed out of her, making her legs and bed wet and sticky. The water that melted from the ice dripped onto the floor and his lap.   “You’re such a dirty woman.” He said narrowing his eyes. In return she gnashed her teeth.   “Bite me, Erik! Ah!” She wailed when his teeth sunk into her inner thigh, leaving a small hickey. “Grind your tongue against my clit… Yeah, just like that… Gods damn it… I’m, gonna… I’m… Oh!” Aza cried, as she came. In one second her pussy got even hotter and wetter. Erik felt her clitoris throbbing on his tongue, whilst her vagina squeezed his finger tightly, then relaxed and tensed in short, quick spasms. She squeezed her tits hard, arching her back. With a final cry, she suddenly went completely numb. Her back hit against the mattress, her legs passively hung over the bed, shaking.   Erik kept gently licking her clit, resting his head on her womb. The strip of dark hairs tickled his nose, as he waited for the shaking to pass. When Aza completely calmed down, they both lied on the bed on their backs, staring at the ceiling.   “Was it okay?” He asked.   “You’re a natural.” She praised, still breathing hard. “But don’t get cocky. And speaking of cocks…” She put her hand on his abdominals.   “I’m good, don’t worry about me.” He declined politely. “Maybe in the morning.”   “I got work to do tomorrow.” She reminded.   “Okay. Let’s get some sleep then.”   “Sure. And Erik? Thanks.” She said sincerely.   “Anytime.” He said, as he slowly slipped into sleep. Faintly, he heard the sound of the lute downstairs. The bard was singing an old, but recently popular song.   “What’s so funny?” Aza muttered, hearing him chuckle.   “Nothing, goodnight.” He said, wiping the grin of his face. The song was called ‘The Dragonborn Comes’. “More like Cums!” He thought to himself.   But he still wasn’t sure. And this business could wait until morning. He was too sleepy, and he saw no point in spoiling the pleasant ending to this day. But he couldn’t just pretend nothing had happened. He’ll ask her. Soon.

Chapter 6 - Woodland Wonders

After a night of hiking, she gave him a weak healing potion and allowed to rest for a few hours, then woke up with a kick in the kidney and ordered to move out. Another day of travel passed, with him getting a nudge or kick for the slightest sigh. She marched fast, with no signs of fatigue, giving him no chance to take a break. The third day of the murderous marathon, they entered the great pine forest. She let him eat and sleep, but barely said anything. Erik started having second thoughts, but forced himself to endure. In the morning she manhandled him a bit, but without much enthusiasm.   They reached Falkreath just before dawn on the third day. Dead Man’s Drink was the first inn Erik had ever slept in, aside from the one that was his home. The innkeep made no mention of his bruises and swollen face as Aza did all the talking. His priority was not to pass out in front of all the other guests. He was exhausted.   “I need a bed for two, your strongest ale, mutton, clean towels… that cheese you got there on the shelf, a bucket of hot water and shears.”   “That will be…” the innkeeper was silenced by a heavy coinpurse Aza placed on the counter “…suffice. Enjoy your stay.”   “That we will. Has the Jarl any bounties on his hands?”   “There’s a pack of wolves south from here. Or…” the Imperial innkeeper leaned forward and whispered “vampires in the mountains to the east.”   For a moment Aza gazed into the embers in the hearth. She was calculating the odds-risk-success-payment ratio.   “Wolves you say…” she asked rhetorically. “I’ll see to it, then. Show us the room!”   ---   Their room was plain, clean and smelled of pinewood. The supplies Aza ordered were delivered in a matter of minutes, the coinpurse must have been heavier than it seemed. Erik paid no mind, though. All he wanted was to fall senseless on the bed and sleep the pain away.   “Not until you sort yourself out!” Aza scolded, seeing him approach the bed.   “I don’t care about that…” Erik muttered, lying down on the hay mattress.   “Don’t make me beat you up again!” She warned, opening the bottle and reaching for the meat. “Undress and clean yourself up. I rolled you in the dirt, dying of infected wounds is the last thing you want. And you smell like piss.”   Erik flaccidly took his armor off, then undressed. As he sat on a short stool and reached for a towel he felt blood starting to drip from his nose, but he was too worn out to bother.   “Gods, you’re such a baby!” Aza sighed, putting her dinner away. She took the towel off his hands. “Here, let me do it.”   “Get away from me” he said with a shrug, too tired to even raise his hand.   “Shut up, kid.” The Redguard rebuffed, dipping the towel in the water.   With gentleness and care he would never expect of her, she washed the dirt, blood and fluids off him. With what was left in the bucket she soaked his hair and wiped him dry. Erik couldn’t understand this woman, who came into his life out of nowhere. She could be lecherous, then turn cruel only to suddenly become caring. His own feelings about her shifted as well, ranging from fear, lust, anger to utter confusion. He still didn’t fully trust her, yet he had no choice.   “All right, you’re good. Get on the bed, flat on your stomach” she instructed.   With tremendous effort, Erik managed to make three weary steps towards the bed and laid down on his belly, minding the bruised ribs. Maybe he was wrong and this wasn’t the life for him after all? He closed his eyes, trying to sink into sleep. Somewhere, far beyond the cloud of pain, he heard his tormenter bustling around the room.   “This might sting a bit.” Aza said, sitting on the edge of the bed. With his face buried in the pillow, Erik couldn’t see that she was wearing a worn-out linen nightshirt and was clenching a jar with some unknown substance. She carefully took the lid off and generously greased her palms. She proceeded to massage the mixture in his shoulders and back, advancing lower. The salve tingled.   “What are you doing to me this time?” He asked tiredly.   “Relax, it’s for lessening the pain, so you’ll be able to move in the morning” she explained, as she massaged his thighs. “I need you operational, we’re going wolf hunting.”   “Oh joy…” Erik snarked.   “Yep. Flip over. I figured you should start with something simple.” Aza went on, rubbing the mixture into his chest and abdomen. The unexpected massage relaxed the lad enough to make him feel better. But on the surface of his mind emerged a question…   “What are the shears for?” He asked cautiously.   “Your hair needs trimming. You’re going to meet new people, I don’t want you looking like a savage.” She revealed, rubbing the remains of the substance into his swollen face.   “I like it the way it is.”   “Oh sweetness…” she chuckled, wiping her hands with her shirt “I mean no harm to that gorgeous red mane of yours. It’s your bush that needs to go.” She added, reaching for the shears.   “You’re…!”   “Crazy? Sick?” She suggested patiently. “Yes, you already mentioned that a couple of times.”   “I’m not letting you near my crotch with anything sharp!” He warned.   “Calm down, I already hurt you enough. Now come on, trust me! I’m going to do it anyways, it’s up to you how smoothly the operation will go.”   “I really don’t get you…” Erik sighed, giving in.   Aza bent forward and with dispatch relieved him from excess hair. Looking down on his groin, he had to admit that his precious presented itself more stately and grandly. Still, in his own opinion, the size could be more impressive.   “You don’t like it?” She inquired.   “No, it’s just… so small.” He confessed, avoiding looking her in the eyes.   For a second Aza was on the brink of slapping the whelp. Too small? That monster?! Just how sheltered was he?   “So… how big should it be to make you feel like a real man?” She asked jokingly. Erik said nothing, but made a measuring gesture with his hands. “W… where did you get that idea?” She asked, shocked by the distance between his palms.   “From the bard’s song” the boy admitted timidly.   “Erik…” she sighed, “if you want to be a big boy, you should stop believing everything you’re told. As for the bards… It’s their job to exaggerate.” The Redguard shook her head and got back to the table to finish her now cold dinner. “What?” She asked, noticing his gaze. “This is my grub, I paid for it. You should be thankful I’m not expecting you to share the cost of the room. My once in a lifetime treat, next time we split the costs.”   “I’m not hungry.” He dismissed, still staring at her. Aza was in awe how the look in his eyes could shift from oblivious to determined.   “So, what do you want then?”   “Can’t I just look at you?” He tried to joke.   “Everyone wants something. Now spill it, I want to get some sleep as well.”   “My… thing.”   “Your cock.” She corrected, slicing the cheese.   “My cock… Do you think the size is… okay?”   “Listen, laddie” with an annoyed sigh, Aza put the knife down. “I had cocks of all shapes, colors and sizes shoved with more or less consent into every hole in my body that would fit. Yours is…” she paused. There was no point in lying, but she didn’t want to stroke his ego either. “Perfectly normal and fine. Now go to sleep.” With that, she stuffed her mouth with a large slice of goat cheese that instantly crumbled and melted on her tongue. Nord cheese was the best!   The conversation was over. Erik rolled to his side and closed his eyes, hoping the pounding in his head soon stops. His lower lip was swollen, but thankfully it stopped bleeding.   “Wear a shirt, you want to catch pneumonia straight away?” Aza nagged.   “Too tired to move…” he muttered. “And I’m a Nord, cold means nothing to me.”   The Redguard leapt towards the resting whelp, grabbed him by the ear and pulled up to a sitting position. From the bundle on the floor she retrieved his shirt and roughly it pulled over his head. She caught a whiff of his scent in the air. Young, energetic, radiating pheromones from every pore. She crinkled her nose as she realized she could distinct it with her eyes closed. He became something familiar to her in a very short time.   “Stop treating me like a brat! I don’t need a nanny!” He protested, pulling the shirt down.   “Then stop acting like one! I swear, I think I’d be better off playing nanny to a real baby!”   “And what could you know about children?” He sneered.   “Oh, you’d be surprised.” She snapped, heading to the table once more, this time adamant to finish her dinner.   After she was done eating without any more interruptions, Aza blew out the candles and sat on the bed’s edge. Sipping her ale, she tried her best to keep the memories from flooding her. She didn’t want to remember anything she was attached to in the past. Yet, in the face of memories, she was defenseless. She hated that feeling. She looked over her shoulder at his still form, pleased to hear him breathe steadily. He was finally asleep.     “And I thought Zia was bratty.” She said quietly, unaware he could hear her.   Luckily, Erik was smart enough to keep his eyes closed. He knew he’d get another beating if he’d open them and ask who was Zia. This was a matter for another time. Or at least after his bruises fade out.   ---   It was almost noon. She woke up relieved she didn’t have any dreams. She then realized, that while she was lying on her side, Erik rolled in his sleep to rest his head on her buxom chest and held her in a tight clutch. In her sleep, she returned his embrace.   “Unbelievable!” She thought, prying his arms off.   Immediately, the boy turned flat on his back, occupying most of the bed. His member was awake and proudly pointed at the ceiling. Erik himself was a hard sleeper, which was a bad trait in an adventurer. She would see to him later, she had something else to do now. She got dressed and took his armor. Iron, what was Mralki thinking? But as she recalled Lod, the town smith, was more than decent with his leatherwork. She crept out of the room with Erik’s armor, whilst the rookie was still rampaging through Dreamland.   ---   “My lord, thank you for freeing me from the evil wizard’s grasp!” The fair maiden exclaimed.   “It is my duty to protect delicate young creatures such as yourself from all that is evil, my dear!” The Slayer replied. His armor shone in the afternoon sun.   “Ah, my savior! I am but a humble lass, but please!” She begged, undoing her hair and letting it flow down her back like a golden cape. “Make love to me in this enchanted meadow, I am yours for the taking!”   The hero sheathed his blade as the maiden unlaced her shirt, revealing more of her fair skin. Her full, white breasts, exposed to the outside world, bounced as she opened her arms. The Slayer stepped forward to claim his prize. His strong hands closed on her hips and pulled closer to meet with the cold steel of his chestplate. He closed his eyes, bending forward to cast a kiss that would overcome her with desire. Yet, the lass’ cherry lips didn’t meet with his. He opened his eyes. The meadow was replaced by a dark, gloomy swamp. The blue eyes that were looking so tenderly into his changed into a mismatched set of green and white he knew damned too well. And the look in them was blatantly unimpressed. The fair maiden was gone, instead there was the ebony-skinned, scar-ridden Aza. The sky behind her was heavy with dark clouds.   “Wake up, fool!” She said as the rainy sky came crashing on Erik’s head.   He sprang up, coughing and snorting. He, was soaked with cold water, just like the bed. The sudden movement conjured pain alongside his whole body, reminding of the recent beatings. He staggered and hit his head against a shelf. Disoriented, he sat on the floor, waiting for the dizziness to pass.   “Finally!” Aza hissed displeased. “It’s almost noon!  You got the morning wash checked, so you can gear up now. I got you some food.” She said, pointing at the table.   “Couldn’t you just wake me up like a normal person?!” He shouted, rubbing the back of his head.   “I think that by now we can both agree, that I am nothing what you would call normal. But I did it for your own good.”   “My own good!?” He snapped, cautiously standing up.   “You sleep like the dead. Even a child could sneak up on you and slit your throat. I’m going to knock some alertness into you. Get ready to either wake up at the faintest sound, or completely soaked.” She warned.   “And if there’s no bucket of water handy?”   “Then I can always give you a golden shower” the wretch promised with a nasty smile.   “I didn’t realize you were that wealthy.” Erik tried to talk back, but Aza unexpectedly burst into laughter.   “Oh, you’re wonderfully innocent Erik, don’t ever change!” She pleaded, after a moment of catching her breath. “Now come on already, we have no time to waste.”   “Where’s my armor?” The lad asked, looking around. He couldn’t locate the familiar shape of his chestpiece.   “I sold it and got you a new set.”   “You did what?!” He cried. His father spent so much gold on that damned thing!   “You’re not the heavy armor type.” The Redguard explained calmly. “I bought you a set of leather. With what little gold that was left, I got you food and there are even a few coins left. See? I can be nice. Now stop your bitching and get a move on.”   “Can’t I spend a moment around you without getting humiliated, hurt or harassed?” He whined one last time, wringing his hair. Aza threw him a towel with a lenient smile.   “Watch it, kid. Wolves might be your least concern today.” She warned, although she was pleased he talked back with more confidence. The whimpering milk-drinker she molested the first night she spent in Rorikstead was slowly fading away. Yet, she still had to test him in a real fight.   “What do you think?” He asked, presenting himself. She was too busy frolicking in her thoughts to notice he equipped his new armor. And he was quick with it, another sign light armor was his thing.   “Well look at you! You look almost decent. Now eat your breakfast.” She nagged, her tone perfectly mocking motherly concern.   ---   The pine forest which composed most of Falkreath hold was thick with game. However, due of a vicious pack of wolves that roamed the area, the rest of the wildlife retreated to their dens.   “Well, would you look at that” Aza whistled, noticing a ragged shape in a ditch slightly off the road. “Come on, let’s give it a look.” She said, patting Erik on the shoulder.   On closer inspection, the shape turned out to be a body. It was a female Khajiit, her abdomen was hollow, eaten away by what could only be wolves. The beasts also devoured her buttocks, thighs, throat and one breast. The other was still attached to her chest, but brutally ragged. The Khajiit’s dead eyes were staring at the clear sky with frozen amazement. First flies gathered on her lifeless, yellow eyeballs.   “Gods…” Erik whispered.   “The Gods had nothing to do with this” Aza reprimanded, kneeling before the corpse.   “Should we… bury her?” He inquired.   “No. We’ll let the guards know once we are back.” Aza declined, going through the bloodied rags that were once the Khajiit’s clothes. “Aha!” She exclaimed, retrieving a small purse.   “How can you rob her like that?!” Erik couldn’t believe his own eyes.   “Rob?” She asked surprised. “She won’t be needing those anymore, the woodland critters won’t either, so why shouldn’t we make good use of her stuff? She’s dead, Erik! Look!” Aza squeezed the one furry breast that was still intact. “See, she’s not complaining. And I don’t see Arkay appearing out of thin air to smite me. Now quit your whining and keep an eye out.”   Erik toddled in place a bit, unsure of what to do. The wind blew in his back, carrying an alarming scent. Predators. He turned around just in time to see two robust wolves creeping up on them. The beasts were like nothing he had ever seen. They were larger, thicker and weren’t afraid of people. And by the Gods, that smell! Their stench could knock a troll unconscious!   “Finally! I’ve been wondering when you’ll notice.” Said his companion, as three more appeared to their right. She slowly stood up, arming herself with her dagger and sword. “Don’t get flanked” she warned. “They’ll want to separate you and knock off balance. Keep in motion!”   “Kyne, they’re huge!” He noted, pulling out his axe.   He occasionally fended off wolves that got too close to Rorikstead, but swinging a torch or throwing rocks at the small cowardly ones that populated the plains of Whiterun was nothing compared to facing over one hundred pounds of fur and muscles.   He gripped the handle firmer. One of the pair in front of him prepared to jump, its hind legs sprung off the ground, launching the creature jaw-first at him. Erik didn’t think, he reacted on pure instinct. He sidestepped, the wolf leapt pass him. Before it could dash again, Erik took a wide swing. The axe plunged into the animal’s spine, almost severing its body in half. The youngster bolted away just before a second muzzle could bite into his leg. “I would never dodge that if I was wearing heavy armor!” He realized with dumbfound amazement. He regained balance, ready to fight the next attacker.   “Good, you killed one of their alphas, they won’t know what to do now!” He heard his comrade’s praise.   Pleased to see some results from Erik, she turned to one of the wolves, kicking it in the throat. Before the beast had a chance to whimper, she sunk her blade into its side. The blow was fatal, there were four beasts left. Erik focused on the one that tried to previously bite into his leg. He stared into its crazed eyes. Thick drool was dripping off the beast’s gnashed teeth as it licked it’s teeth. This was between him and the wolf… or so he thought. He was so focused on his opponent, that he hadn’t noticed another wolf approach him from behind.   It would surely catch him by surprise if it weren’t for a dagger hitting it straight in the eye, killing instantly. Aza scoffed, paying it no more attention and got back to the two remaining beasts.   The wolf finally pounced. Instead of dashing to the side, the lad took step back, tripping over the fresh kill behind him. Seeing a drooling maw heading straight for his throat, he released his axe, instinctively guarding himself with his arm. The wolf closed its jaws on the leather of his bracer, almost crushing his forearm. Erik shouted and cursed curse in pain. The stench from the beast’s maw made his insides twist. He had to think fast! The Gods smiled upon him that day; with the corner of his eye he noticed Aza’s dagger, still resting in the bloodied eyesocket. He sharply pulled it out and stabbed the gnawing wolf’s chest. Then, with a pained yell, as the fiend had no intention of giving up, he pulled it all the way to the wolf’s jaw, ripping the throat open. The creature gave his arm one final desperate shake, then fell lifeless. Erik now rested between two dead animals, blood was slowly pouring from them and sunk into his armor.   “Damn, you alright?” Aza’s upside down face hovered above him. Her brow was sweaty and she had smears of blood on her cleavage.   “Pull me out!” He growled, feeling his ribcage crackle. The furry deadweight was too much for him to budge.   With her help, he managed to squirm from between the wolves’ twitching bodies. He remained motionless for a longer moment, still on all-fours. He got up shortly after the world around him stopped spinning. His arm was pulsing with pain, but thankfully he could clench and unclench his fist. Taking a moment to look around, he saw that the two other creatures were dead as well. The pack was defeated.   “Take that bracer off before your forearm completely swells.” Aza advised, pulling her dagger from the wolf’s throat. Erik wisely obeyed; his forearm was almost black form bruises. But it was better than having his throat ripped open.   “What now?” He asked with a weary smile. They did it!   “We skin them and present the pelts to the Jarl as proof.” She explained, handing over his lost axe. “Congratulations, Erik. You’re still alive.”   ---   The young and arrogant Jarl paid them enough gold to keep them going for a few more days. They didn’t stay in Falkreath. Instead, they hiked east, entering more rocky terrain. A day later they were passing the ruins of the town known formerly as Helgen. Aza gave the outer walls a long, grave look.   “I hear the Imperials almost executed Ulfric Stormcloak in Helgen. But then, a dragon came and burned the town to the ground!” Erik sighed amazed. A dragon! That must have been a sight!   “Yep.”   “Do you think we could stay there? If the keep is intact, we could sleep in the barracks” he suggested.   “No!” She refused abruptly.   “Why not?”   “The place is probably swarming with all sorts of outlaw scum. Let’s keep going.”   “But… shouldn’t we take care of any bandits we come across?” He asked, puzzled.   “Is anyone paying us to do so? No. Now come on!” She urged, increasing her pace.   “But…” the whelp was hard to lay off.   “Erik, there’s no point in playing hero and putting your life on the line for no apparent reason! Understood?”   “I…” he took a moment to ponder her words. “Yes. I… understand.” He agreed with a frown.   “Great. The sooner you realize how the world works the better.”   ---   They took a narrow pass through the southern slope of the Throat of the World. The rocky terrain soon changed into a birch forest. It was the middle of the night two days later when they entered the south-east quarter of the province. They spent the rest of the night in an abandoned shack that must have been previously inhabited by an alchemist, as there was an alchemy lab present along with some messy notes. They took turns sleeping and keeping a lookout. With the break of dawn, they continued their journey through the woods. The moss covered bed of the woodland bore the smell of slowly ending summer.   “The Rift looks so peaceful” Aza said with a raptured sigh. “Perfect spot for an archer to take us out by surprise.” She added with a bitter grin.   “Are you always this cynical?” Erik sighed, nervously looking around.   “I thought you learned that by now.”   The sudden sound of a woman calling out the Divines interrupted their little chatter. Erik jumped.   “Someone’s in trouble!” He shouted. “It came from there, come on!” He urged, pointing at the nearby shrubbery.   “Hold your horses!” His companion said, raising her palms. “You really need to stop being this hasty.”   “But… But, she’s screaming!” He argued, confused by her calmness.   “Well, obviously you’ve never heard a woman scream like that before!” Aza laughed. “Come on, let’s go see what all the fuss is about.”   Quietly, they crept to the thickest part of the shrubs. The cries and pleads were now getting louder and more desperate. Erik fell to his knees and cautiously spread a few twigs to make a peephole.   The Nord woman was obviously in no danger. She was bending forward, with her legs wide apart and her backside stretching out. Her arms were wrapped around a young birch. Her shirt was unlaced, her skirt pulled all the way to the middle of her back, exposing her pale ass. Behind her was the source of her cries. His hands were firmly holding her hips in place, whilst he pumped his cock into her young pussy.   “Well, I’ll be damned!” Aza whispered, pressing her cheek against Erik’s. “Fastred and Klimmek! Dinya Balu in Riften would be over the moons if she saw this!”   “You know them?” Erik asked, trying his best to remain undetected. And while he was at it, he employed all his willpower to keep his cock from breaking loose.   “I know a lot of people.” She replied, widening the peephole.   “Ah, Gods, you’re tearing me apart!” The girl wailed, arching her back.   “That’s what I like to hear, tell me more!” Her lover pulled her closer, as his balls slammed against her inner thighs.   “Mara, it’s like having a red-hot rod inside me!”   “She obviously has no idea what she’s talking about.” Aza whispered into Erik’s ear. “Oh…! You like to watch, don’t you?” She asked intrigued, instantly noticing the bulge in his armor.   “Aza, no!” He hissed, immediately recognizing the lewd spark in her good eye.   “Why, yes!” She assured. “It’s unhealthy for a young stud such as yourself to be holding back like this. I’m just going to give you a hand…” She purred, slithering behind him. “Come on, undo those pants!”   “No, stop it!” He shuttered.   He wanted to look her straight in the eye to show how serious he was, but he just couldn’t take his eyes off the couple so passionately fucking in the wild. He couldn’t believe they hadn’t noticed they were being watched. Was he and Aza that well-hidden, or were those two so focused on each other, that they forgot about the rest of the world?   “You know, they live in Ivarstead” Aza revealed in a seemingly nonchalant tone. “That’s where I planned to stay for a while” she added, as her hands were casually stroking his chest from behind. “But if you fight, they’re going to eventually notice us…”   “And we won’t be staying in Ivarstead.” He guessed.   “Oh, no! Of course we will! But you’re going to have to look those people in the eyes, knowing that you watched them fuck and they caught you!” She said, pressing her hips against his behind. “Come on Erik…” she tempted, grinding against him. “I really want to do this” she added softer.   Erik surrendered. He let her agile fingers reach underneath his leather skirt, but as she was about to undo his undergarments, he held her by the wrists.   “But I get to touch you too, okay?” He haggled.   “Okay.” She agreed and his grip loosened.   She pulled out his impatient member and gave it a few comforting jerks. Her hands could be wonderfully swift and gentle when she wanted it. She pampered her boy toy whilst he was busy enjoying the show.   “What about you?” He asked through the mist that fell before his eyes. He was positive now that the couple had no clue of their presence.   “What about me?” She teased. The tip of her tongue slid down the nape of his neck, causing him to shiver.   “Come on, I want to touch you too!” He pleaded, thankful that Fastred’s moans were so loud.   “How?” She inquired playfully.   “What do you mean how? With my hands of course!”   “No, dummy!” She sighed, pulling one of his braids with her teeth. “Talk dirty to me, convince me you’ll make me overflow with pleasure.”   The lad took a moment to gather his thoughts. In the meantime, Klimmek pulled out, turned his woman around and grabbed her by the ass. He picked her up and pinned her against the tree, showering them with leaves. His tongue, shoved brutally between her lips, muffled another wave of cries. Fastred wrapped her arms and legs around him, as the thick, bulbous tip of his dick went back where it belonged. Her wet pussy welcomed it lovingly, releasing more juices.   “Well?” Aza pestered, jerking him off and squeezing his sack. Without hair, Erik’s skin was even more sensitive.   “I want to feel, not just see your pussy, damn it!” He pleaded, looking over his shoulder. “I want to make you so wet, you’ll soak your thighs. I… I want to rub you until you come, and when you do, I want to feel how your hot, wet pussy convulses around my fingers.” With that, he bend his head back and offered her his lips.   At first she merely brushed his lips with hers, but finally slid her tongue inside to meet with his. Her mouth tasted slightly bitter. Aza was surprised the lad didn’t make the mistake most young bucks did; nearly choking the other person with their tongue and drooling like a Sheogorath worshipper. Erik wasn’t in a hurry and worked both his tongue and lips. He was too good to be doing this for the first time. Disappointed, she realized she hadn’t stolen his first kiss. The very next second, she scolded herself for believing he could be that innocent. And for wanting to be his first.   “Keep looking at them” she instructed, pulling her tongue out of his mouth. A string of clear saliva still connected their lips. “And keep talking. Who was the first woman you kissed?”   “A friend. We were” Erik sighed deeply when she rubbed his glans with her thumb, “just practicing.”   “Go on.” She encouraged, resting her cheek on his pauldron.   “It was shortly after harvest, I think I was fifteen at the time. We snuck away and hid in the haystacks with a bottle I snatched from my father’s cellar.” He continued the tale as quietly as he could. “She asked if I ever kissed. I said no. She said she kissed her boy before he went off to fight the Forsworn. She offered to teach me, saying that I’ll never get to kiss anyone anyway, so she might as well take pity on me. Guess the joke’s on her, right?”   Before the Redguard could say something unpleasant about Erik’s childhood friend, Fastred wailed in a surprisingly high pitched voice.   “Oh Gods! Oh Klimmek! Oh mother and father, I’m there! I’m there!” She clutched her lover as if her life depended on it and actually wept, burying her face in his chest. Her body tensed, paralyzed by numbing pleasure. Between sobs, she tried to catch her breath in short, loud spasms.   “What a drama queen!” Aza muttered, working on Erik’s cock faster and harder.   “Gods, I couldn’t keep up with your pace again” Fastred wept, “I’m so sorry Klimmek!”   “It’s alright.” He said in a comforting tone. He released her and let her slide against the trunk to the ground. He bent forward, grabbing the trunk for support, whilst quickly stroking his veiny shaft. “You know what to do.”   Fastred eagerly sucked the tip of his cock, pinching and tugging herself hard on the nipples. Her breasts were large and slightly saggy, but still young and fresh. The sight of her skin turning red and flushed made his blood boil.   “Do that thing I like” he instructed through clenched teeth, feeling he’s going to ejaculate soon. Fastred stuck out her flattened tongue, still playing with her tits. Her half-shut eyes were peering into Klimmek’s, as his tip was sliding up and down her tongue.   “I’m almost there…!” Erik whispered, reaching behind and grabbing Aza’s hips.   “Don’t hold back!” She encouraged, feeling his shaft getting hotter and starting to throb.   “Don’t swallow!” Klimmek grunted, breathing harder and deeper. “I’m gonna cum all over you!” His voice fell into an ecstatic groan as he climaxed. A surprisingly thick stream of semen shot from his swollen glans straight at his young lover’s tongue. His loins quivered, showering her sweet mouth. Fastred stuck her tongue out even further as white, cloudy streams dripped from her face onto her cleavage, forming a small puddle between her breasts. Still teasing her beloved’s tip, she spread his seed all over her breasts. Unknowingly, she drove someone else than her man to the heights of carnal pleasure.   “N-now, harder!” Erik bit his lip, trying not to make a sound. Aza’s solid grip and peeping on the couple from Ivarstead drove him to his limits. He came with unexpected force, marking the moss and ferns in front of him. He felt blood on his tongue, he must have bit himself too hard. The Redguard’s hand was still steadily jerking his exhausted member, squeezing out his load to the very last drop. Erik was almost positive that they were heard. Something must have given away their presence!   “Don’t move a muscle until they leave.” His companion whispered into his ear. She let go of his cock and wrapped her arms around his waist. He was thankful that her breasts supported his back, as he was left too weary from this experience.   “No woman on Nirn looks lovelier than you do now, Fastred.” Klimmek muttered, caressing his lover’s cheek.   “You know what to say to make me feel like a real woman” she replied laughing. She licked her glossy lips and reached for a basket she had stashed away behind the tree. She retrieved a piece of cloth from within to carefully wipe herself. The two of them sorted themselves out in blissful laziness.   “It’s still early, but I should get going” he sighed, reaching for his canvas sack.   “You shouldn’t keep the Greybeards waiting” she agreed “I’ll see you home” she added, kissing him goodbye. They stood in silence for a moment, before going on their separate ways, still oblivious of Erik and Aza creeping in the bushes.   “Well, that’s one way to start your day. “Aza concluded, when the coast was clear. “But I’m happy for them. These are some really messed up times, and it’s good to have someone by your side.”   “Uh-oh.” Erik agreed indifferently. “So…” he started conversation, turning over and resting his palms on her laps. “Should I…?”   “The show’s over, kid.” She shot his hopes down.   “What?! Oh, come on!”   “Forget it, I’m not in the mood anymore.” She refused, pinching his nose.   “You… You played me and took advantage of me! Again!” He cried.   “Yep. And you didn’t fail to amuse me once more.” She giggled, pushing him off to mount him, holding down by the wrists.   “Damn you!”   “Oh, quit your pouting!” She muttered, leaning forward. There were mere inches between their faces, a few wayward leaves got into their hair. “You did get some today, didn’t you?” She asked, smirking. Her lips pressed against his, their tongues met. Erik went numb in her grasp.   This was going to be a long day.

Chapter 4 - The Shed

Erik’s mind was set the moment the dirty dishes landed in the wash. He’s going to do it. After all, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like she will burn his skin and then peel it straight off him, right? Although… this Aza was completely unpredictable. He knew she will be waiting for him in the privacy of the shed, ready to toy with him some more. It was the uncertainty of what could… no, what will happen afterwards, that made his insides twist.   His genitals acted completely irrational. His balls shrunk as if waiting for a devastating blow, whilst his penis simultaneously swell, then went limp in short intervals. He lost his appetite, save for gallons of water he felt the compulsion to drink during the entire day. His bladder didn’t take long to respond. The waiting! The unbearable waiting! Whatever she had in store for him… let it come, just make that edgy feeling go away! Yet, the sun had no intention of setting faster and easing his troubled mind.   He hadn’t seen her for the rest of the day. He was certain she was laying low somewhere… Plotting… Or maybe she was watching him? He was jumpy, the faintest noise or movement made him look over his shoulder. He felt her eyes all over his body. Thankfully, he managed to pull himself together, so that he could finish all his chores on schedule.   Finally, after what seemed like days, not hours, night entered Rorikstead. Erik laid fully dressed in his bed, contemplating the cracked ceiling. When he was certain everyone was asleep, he slipped out of his room, crept downstairs and snuck out of the inn through the backdoor. He crossed the small courtyard and stood before the shed. On a hunch he pressed his ear to the wooden door. He heard nothing. Maybe she was bluffing after all? Maybe she left? No, she wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to torture him a bit more. He pushed the door and entered.   The shed was dark and still. After his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he could faintly distinguish silhouettes of objects around him, mostly hay stacks and tools. He made a few steps forward with outstretched arms, trying to find something to support himself against. After a few steps, his hands were filled with two round and warm shapes. Arms closed on his elbows and pulled him closer. She was here.   “Oh, naughty boy, not yet!” She giggled, pulling his palms away from her heavy breasts. She was topless. For a second he felt her hard nipples touching his palms.   Before Erik could respond, she stirred him to the side and pushed to the ground. He tripped and landed ass-first on a pile of hay. A moment later, warm light illuminated the interior as the woman lit a lantern, carefully placing it on an up-side-down kettle. For a moment, Erik was blinded by the sudden luminance. When he could see everything clearly, he cautiously looked around.   Aza was busy making the shed cozy and dividing it into two sections; stacks of hay fashioned like a king-sized bed with a blanket pulled over them, and a short platform formed of wooden planks and hay. A scene and an audience. He was on the stage, naturally. And on the piles of hay laid the Redguard wretch. She made herself comfortable, wearing nothing but a smile.   “So… what do you plan to do with me?” Erik asked, pulling his knees up to his chin. This was bad. Very, very, bad. But there was no turning back, she made the rules clear.   “I’m going to make you weep. Then, I’m going to make you cum like there’s no tomorrow.” She promised with a cruel smile.   “You’re sick!” He snapped, crawling away, until his back met with a wall. He was cornered.   “You agreed to come here on your own, boy. I didn’t force you, it was your choice. Now, we’re going to play a game.”   “What game?”   “Show me yours and I’ll show you mine. You go first. Strip!”   Erik bit his tongue. So, this was going to be another dirty, humiliating torture. But he had nothing to lose, she already plucked him of his dignity. Yet, he will withstand anything she has in stock for him. He won’t give her the pleasure of embarrassing him any further. He stood up and started throwing his clothes off with a blank expression. His hands didn’t tremble for even a second. The slowly building up rage made his senses sharper, his movement faster, more precise.   “No!” She scolded as he was undoing his belt. “Slowly. I want to savor the moment.”   “Having a good time?” He talked back, undoing his belt much slower, just like she wanted. The heavy buckle hit the floor with a hollow ring. He kicked his shoes off, then let his pants slip down.   “You should be thankful I’m not making you dance. The loin cloth. Slowly.”   Maintaining eye contact with the Hammerfell harlot, Erik slowly pulled the loose end of his undergarment. With no trace of shame, he tossed it aside and stood in front of her, legs slightly straddled, hands resting firmly on his hips. For the first time in his adult life he stood naked before someone.   Aza was pleasantly surprised. The lad had just recently grown out of his teen years. Life spent on hard work in the humble hamlet made him strapping and healthy. Though he was nothing like the bulky Nord warriors she screwed all over Tamriel, Erik was not delicate. He looked like he could withstand a lot of abuse. His skin was pale, hair red, swept off his face and adorned with a few braids. He had light blue eyes, with that vacant look so characteristic for whelps. Though, at the moment the look in his eyes was strangely sharp and aware. As her eyes slid from his face, down his scarcely hairy chest and abdomen she barely managed to hold the urge to squeal. That dick! It was limp, but by the looks of it, fully erect it could be one of the biggest she could ever have the opportunity to stick in her mouth or pussy! And maybe, with enough salve, she could fit it in her ass?   Erik felt her burning gaze on his lower body. Why was she staring so intensely into his groin? He didn’t like the attention she was giving it. She’s probably going to say something insulting now, make fun of his size.   “Well… maybe it’s small, but it’s cold in here!” He mumbled, slowly losing his newly found confidence.   Aza barely kept herself from grabbing him by the shoulders and giving him a good shake. Too small?! Why, this village idiot had no idea what treasure he was hiding in his pants! Oh, he was going to be more fun than she anticipated. But first things first. She got up from her makeshift bed and faced him, mirroring his stance.   “Look at me closely, lad.” She said, opening her arms. Erik obeyed.   The Redguard was athletic and yet buxom. Her shoulders and hips were broad, stomach flat and muscular. Life of constant travel and danger made her joints long and strong. Her breasts were heavy, yet still perky, the same was with her behind. And all over her body were battle-scars. She even had a few small cuts on her face. Erik wasn’t sure what she wanted him to focus on; her body or the scars.   “This is the first time a naked woman stands before you, right?”   “Wrong.” Erik denied. Before Aza there was another Redguard…   “Really?” She sounded surprised. “How unexpected. Who was she?”   “None of your business!” He growled, crossing his arms. That memory was precious, not for her to ridicule.   “I bet you peeped on her. Never mind. Sit.” She commanded. Erik kneeled down on the platform ready for anything. Aza kicked back in her nest of hay, reaching for a bottle.   “Touch yourself.” She said. “Imagine I’m not here. I want to see how you fuck yourself.”   Erik took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He had no intention of retreating. As he opened them, he spread his knees wide apart. He bent back, supporting himself on his outstretched arm, slowly sliding his other hand down his abdomen. He was never reluctant to pleasure himself… Until now. But this was a game and he had no intention to forfeit. Unhurriedly, he took his slowly thickening cock in his hand.   “Yeah, adventuring is all fun and games until you lose vision in one eye.” Aza joked with a bitter sigh. She chugged from the bottle, seemingly paying him no mind. “But it’s dignity, that you lose first. You want to hear about the Orcs, don’t you? Ah, of course you do!” She exclaimed, not waiting for him to reply. Truth be told, Erik was a bit curious, in that morbid way…   “You’re not enjoying the show?” He asked, pausing to spit in his palm and continuing masturbating. Squishy, moist sounds filled the shed.   “You value yourself too highly! But don’t stop.” She snickered, pretending to ignore him.   His penis was almost fully erect. From where she was resting, she saw thick blue veins pulsing on the smooth shaft. His foreskin slid up and down, covering and uncovering his sleek, flushed glans. The tip was gently pointed, perfect for quick, deep insertions. She caught herself imagining how it would feel inside her. Despite his amazing package, the pup obviously had no technique to speak of, but given enough training…   “So, the Orcs?”   “They love to do it in the ass. It’s got something to do with their tribal society. Only the Chief can have wives and offspring. So, the rest choose anal. Or maybe they only screw outsiders in the ass? I have no idea. Still hurts, though…” She finished with an indifferent sigh, casually caressing the large, dark areola of her nipple. Noticing Erik’s attention, she licked her fingertips and pinched it, tugged a bit, then released making her heavy breast jiggle.   “Do you like my tits?” She asked, playing with her other breast. Her wet fingertips left glossy smudges on her dusky skin.   “They’re big.” Erik admitted.   “I didn’t ask about the size. I asked if you liked them.”   “Yes.” His cock shared the same opinion, as a drop of precum formed at the tip.   “Do you want to play with them? Rub them, take my nipples in your mouth and suck on them?” She inquired further, throwing out her chest. By the Gods, her rack promised heaps of fun.   “I… I do.” He answered truthfully, surprised to hear such eagerness in his own voice.   “Then play with your own first.” Aza conditioned, crossing her arms, covering the tender brown tips of her nipples.   “What? I’m not a girl!” He refused in a high pitch voice.   “Well, you sure act like one.”   “And what about this?” Erik asked, waggling his dick. He didn’t want to give Aza the pleasure of getting provoked by her insults. Though, the remark did hurt his pride a bit. Maybe he had soft features, but he was definitely a man! And he had his throbbing member to prove it.   “Oh, I’m sure it can manage without you for a moment. Come on!” The Redguard groaned impatiently, seeing his reluctance. “What happens tonight will never leave these walls. That I can promise you. Now play with your titties!”   Erik licked his slightly salty fingertips and did what he was told. He bit his tongue, that tickled in a weird way. Aza leaned forward and blew a stream of cold air straight at his chest. His small, pink nipples immediately got hard.   “Hey, stop that!”   “Oh, shut up!” She muttered, pulling him closer, her breasts slamming against his face.   He tried to struggle for air, but Aza held him in place with little effort, cackling like a lunatic. Finally, when he was close to tapping out, she eased her grip.   “You’re crazy!” He gasped, fighting for air. She could kill with those things!   “I get that a lot. Suck.” She purred promiscuously.   Finally, Erik could do something he had no objections against! He stuck out his tongue and tickled one of her nipples. It was fully erect, with slightly rough skin. His lips closed around the hard nub and although he wasn’t the one receiving the caress, his whole spine tingled. He sucked with delighted glee, as his thoughts drifted to his most tender childhood memory. He paid the other nipple the same amount of attention and tenderness. Her breasts were soft, and yet firm. The warmth coming from them pervaded his palms.   “Well, aren’t you sweet…” Aza whispered, caressing his cheek, whilst Erik eagerly sucked her tit, cuddling the other. A moment later, she unceremoniously pushed him away with a yawn, then lounged at the edge of her makeshift bed with a bored look on her cruel face.   “You remember what this game is called, right?”   “Show me yours I’ll show you mine.” The lad recalled.   “Exactly. I already saw yours, so…” Aza shamelessly spread her legs.   Erik held his breath. How could he not notice this before? Her pussy was smooth and hairless, save for a thin strip of shortly trimmed hairs. The slit was closed, yet he could faintly distinguish the puce coloring of her inner lips. Was it his imagination, or did he really see moist glimmering between her labials?   “Mara… I… this…” He knew he had to say something, anything, but the words in his head just couldn’t click into a coherent sentence. She might be a crazy, malicious vagrant who humiliated and toyed with him, but the very sight of her pussy made his heart pump blood straight into his cock with force he had never experienced.   “Erik, you’re a virgin.” The Redguard declared drily.   “That’s none of your business!” The boy shrugged.   “Oh, my precious little flower! Fear not, I won’t rob you of your innocence! Tarnishing it a bit suits me just fine.” She swore mockingly.   “It’s unbelievable how… how… debauched you are.” Erik sighed, bowing his head. Yearning, frustration and disgrace filled his heart. Although he felt excitement like never before, he wasn’t in control of neither the situation nor himself.   “It’s part of my charm.” Aza proclaimed. “Now focus!” She said, unexpectedly reaching down and spreading her labials wide open.   Once again she managed to make Erik’s heart stop, then beat faster. He could never understand why some of the more bawdy bards described women’s privates as having floral characteristics. But seeing how her vulva was widely spread, he couldn’t think of a better comparison. The color shifted from puce into flushed as it reached her vaginal opening. Her round, perky clit was slightly paler than her lips. The petals seemed smooth and tender, he was absolutely positive now, that they were covered with the dew of her juices.   A new, carnal drive shrouded his mind. He wanted it. He wanted to taste that pussy with his tongue and then his cock. He wanted to shove his member down the glossy opening to the limits, then pound mercilessly until he’d cum, flooding her insides with his sperm. Erik wanted to fuck Aza until she’d cry, then pass out. This wasn’t him, but he was too horny to notice.   “Like what you see?”   “Very…” He gasped, swallowing loudly.   “I could stick my fingers inside and play with it a bit.” She proposed, stretching her asset even wider. A droplet of moisture leaked out from within. Erik was on the verge of snapping. He suddenly found himself sweating, a cold drop slid down his spine. His chest heaved, though he felt as if barely mouthfuls of air went into his lungs.   “Do it!” He urged barely audibly; his throat was dry with anticipation.   “You first.” She reminded, the corner of her mouth jerked upward. She felt completely in control, her arrogance made her overlook the sudden sinister spark in his gaze.   “What do you expect me to do?” He asked through clenched teeth. What Aza thought to be embarrassment was in fact slowly budding fury. But she was having too much fun to notice something was wrong.   “Shove a finger up your ass. Who knows, you might even like it.” She said with a wink.   That was the last straw. The dam of self-control in Erik’s mind broke down, flooding him with lust, anger and dark determination. He’s going to get some tonight. He’s finally going to ease his frustration. And he’s going to make her pay for all the humiliation while he’s at it.   “No.” He said disturbingly calmly. Inside him was a storm. His hand reached behind him, finally finding a familiar shape; his belt. He clenched it tightly, knowing that on the other end was the heavy metal buckle.   “Giving up? How disappointing!” Aza snarled.   “I’m not giving up. Just changing the rules…” Erik explained, as his eyes narrowed. Before Aza realized he’d lost it, it was too late.   Erik took a wide swing, striking her straight on the forehead. The Redguard staggered back with a surprised cry. Not giving her a moment to retaliate, he pounced. His knee plunged right into the solar plexus, pushing air out of her lungs. With the wretch stunned, Erik had little trouble turning her over and binding her hands behind her back with the belt.   “Ah… Oblivion take you, I didn’t expect that!” She muttered, as he laid her on her back and pinned down with his knees. Blood lazily dripped down her face from where the buckle hit.   “Shut up, wench! I’m going to make you pay for everything you did to me, you hear me? Everything!” He shouted, slapping her across the face. The tables had finally turned and it was his game now. A game of ‘I’m going to fuck you until you bleed’. The very thought of making her sorry made him gnash his teeth in a vindictive grim.   “Aaah…” Aza moaned in pain. “Sure you will. I deserve it after all. Come on, stud. I know how much you want to put me in my place.” She encouraged.   Erik drew his face close to hers. Sweat dripped from his nose onto her cheek, mixing with the blood. His light blue eyes were burning with primal fever. Her dark green eye was calm, the other as indifferent as a blind eye can be.   “Yes. Yes, I am. And I’m going to show you how.” He whispered.   Given the circumstances, she should be frantic. Yet, the Redguard was passively laying on the hay merely observing him. The look on her face was cool, her breathing slow and deep. There was neither daring nor mockery in her disposition. Only… waiting.   “Go on. It’s not the first time this happens to me. Do whatever it is you please.”   “I didn’t ask for your life story.” Erik mumbled, spreading her legs. He kneeled between them and as he was about to shove his cock into her hole, he realized he had gone completely flaccid.   “What in Oblivion…?” He grunted, rubbing his now useless member.   “It’s okay. Take your time.” She reassured patiently. Her body was relaxed and motionless, eyes set on his face. Her tranquility finally snapped him out of it. He suddenly realized what he had almost done.   “Aza…” He stuttered,. What was he doing?!   “Shh, it’s all right.” She whispered softly.   He cried in shock, pulling himself away. He quickly untied her, then crawled away until his back met with a wall. Who was he just a second ago…?! How could he…? Never mind who she was or how hard she teased him, he wanted to rape her! He hit her! He never hit a girl in all of his life! The blood on her forehead, the red bruise on her cheek… Stendarr forgive him! Erik curled up, eyes tightly shut. He hated his own guts.   “Come here, Erik.” She beckoned.   “N-no…” He sobbed.   “Please…” She pleaded, opening her arms.   Feeling utter disgust towards himself, Erik crawled back straight into Aza’s embrace.   “I’m so sorry… I…” He tried to explain himself, but there was nothing he could say in his defense. He broke into tears soaking her cleavage.   “I know.” She whispered, holding him tighter. “It’s okay now. You passed the test.”   “What test?” He asked, sniffing.   “I pushed you to your limit. You snapped… But you regained control in time.”   “I went limp…!” He cried.   “Exactly.” Aza said, gently caressing his hair.   Erik felt the familiar innocent glee fall over him. For a moment he was once again the toddler in the unnamed Redguard woman’s loving embrace. She rocked him in her arms until he completely calmed down. She wiped her blood off with her forearm. The wound wasn’t serious, a weak healing potion should heal it up in no time.   “I didn’t want to hurt you… really!” He swore, drying his eyes with his palms.   “I know the real you would never do something like that. But that’s not important now. As promised, I’ll talk to your father first thing in the morning. But now…” She purred, rubbing the tip of his nose against his. Her hand, suddenly tickled him just under the navel, then went lower.   “What are you doing?” He asked alarmed. Waking up his penis didn’t seem like a good idea. He didn’t want to have anything to do with the foul thing anymore.   “I think you deserve a little consolation prize. After all, I did go overboard with you. Now relax and enjoy.”   “You shouldn’t… What almost happened here…” He tried to protest.   “Let that be a lesson to you. You control your cock, not the way around. Now shut it, and let me do my thing.”   Aza jokingly nibbled on his nose, then her lips slid down his neck, for a moment pausing at his collarbone to gently bite into his pale skin. Her tongue slid down his chest and abdomen, finally reaching his groin. Her hand worked fast, but gently. As she stroked his cock into full erection, her other hand focused on squeezing his balls.   “Do you want me to suck you cock, Erik?” She asked playfully.   “Yes, yes I do!” He moaned.   Her lips pressed against his crown, then delightfully slowly slid down the whole shaft. Her head moved energetically up and down. Erik felt the warmth and wetness of her mouth with incredible intensity. His cock was squeezed firmly by her lips, cheeks and throat. On an impulse, he sunk his hands into her jet-black hair. His head tilted backwards as he closed his eyes and let his body react as nature intended. Aza eagerly slurped and sucked. Just as she imagined it, his dick was perfect for deep insertions. It gently slid through her mouth, the veins teasing her palate. She felt a bit of precum ooze on her tongue. He was almost there.   “I… I’m gonna come… Ah, Mara!” Erik cried, shooting cum into her eager mouth. His abdomen convulsed spasmodically for a moment, then relaxed. Aza grunted, but managed to swallow most of his load. It was thick and creamy the way only Nord cum could taste. The lad’s mind was blank and blissful. He bowed his head to look at her. She was tenderly licking off last traces of seed from his slowly shrinking cock, caressing his red pubic hair. Finally, she gave the tip one last lick and pulled herself up to meet him face-to-face.   “How’d you like your first blowjob?” She asked, her lips were wet and glossy.   “Amazing…” Erik sighed with relief. He rested his head on her breast and instantly fell asleep. Semi consciously, he wrapped his arms around her waist. Aza held him closer. She was lying on her back, whilst Erik was on his side. Nonchalantly, she was stroking his arm, formulating her plan.   “We’re going to have fun, you and I.” She thought as the boy’s peaceful breathing lulled her to sleep.

Chapter 9 - Tavern Wench

“Well, look at you! What lies behind that blissful smile?” The thief asked, tugging a strand of hair behind his ear. Damn it, that jawline of his… And everything else of his… He was too hot for his own good.   “Mind your damn business, pretty boy. What is it you need?” Aza asked, leaning over the pier next to the fishery, trying to stay immune to his charm.   “I need help. And I can’t ask anyone from the Guild.” Brynjolf explained, resting his back against the pier’s railing. “It’s… personal. And before you ask, I’ll come clean. I don’t have much gold. But I never forget a debt. And it’s good to be my friend, lass. Believe me.”   “Give me the details.” The Redguard said indifferently, observing little fish swimming carefree under the water.   Brynjolf sighed heavily, desperation made him even more alluring.   “I was expecting a visitor, she was supposed to arrive here a month ago. She never did. I sent word out, and from what I learned, she was last seen around Dawnstar. Near a place known as Yngvild, to be more precise. That place has a bad name, it’s haunted and serves as a nest for some twisted wizard.” He turned his face to her. Aza noticed dark bags under his clever eyes. “I’m not fooling myself. She’s dead… or worse. If you’d give her peace… I’ll make it worth your while. And while you’re at it, I want you to retrieve any personal belongings she might have been carrying. Then burn them.”   “You don’t want them back?”   “I gave a good memory. And in my line of work I learned not to grow attached to objects.”   “I’ll send you a courier when the job is done.” Aza promised. She never bothered with trinkets either. Memories were all she had.   “Thanks, lass.”   “I hadn’t done anything yet.”   For a moment they stared quietly into the distance. Aza mentally slapped herself across the face. Brynjolf made her regret she wasn’t a ripe lad with a nice, firm ass. He was one of those people who caught all the attention once they entered the room. His charm was his weapon.   “So… I see you got yourself a protégé of your own.” Now that the troublesome problem was off his chest, he could afford to make conversation.   “Brynjolf, if you try anything with my little Erik, I’m going to cut that lovely face of yours. Believe me, it’s going to break my heart, but I’ll make sure no man ever finds you attractive, understood?”   “Loud and clear” he said with a laugh. He was used to threats. “If the two of you would ever want someone to join your little bedroom games… You know where to find me. And I’d give both of you the exact amount of attention.” He promised sweetly.   “Wait… aren’t you into men?” She asked incredulously.   “I’m into people in general. But you know how it is. You admit gender means nothing to you, and suddenly everyone thinks you want to get in their pants. Then, they get cautious around you. I can’t afford that. So, I chose to be perceived as someone who prefers rough manly bonding over the affection of women. Makes things a lot easier.”   “Thanks, Bryn… Now I won’t be able to sleep easily.” She sighed embarrassed. Damn him!   “My pleasure. You’re a bit too… towering for me, but I’m sure you’d show me tricks I never knew about, eh?”   “Kiss my ass.” She hissed, angered by his teasing.   “Present it, then.” He proposed cheerfully.   “I should get going…”   ---   Erik was asleep. Big mistake. She reached for the sack he left on the floor. The ice melted overnight. He’s going to wake up wet again.   “I’m awake.” He said without opening his eyes, as she was about to pour water on his head. “Five more minutes and I’m up.” He added, rolling on his stomach.   “You’re getting up now!” Aza ordered, pinching his ass. “Come on, I want you to meet someone.”   “Wha… who?” He mumbled still half-asleep.   “We’ll be waiting for you downstairs. Hurry up.”   ---   “Erik, I want you to meet Mjoll the Lioness. She does the same thing we do. Only, she does it for free.”   The woman he was introduced to was an athletic blond Nord. She had an open and straightforward disposition, though her appearance was a bit intimidating. There were a few scars on her face, but the blue war paint she wore made them barely noticeable.   “So, I hear you’re new to this trade?” She said surprisingly warmly. Her voice had a heavy accent.   “Um… yes…”He admitted. He was still an upstart, but the day he left home felt strangely distant.   “While you give him the pep talk, I’ll borrow Aerin to help me with a few errands, okay Mjoll? Great, we’ll be back soon!” Aza pushed Mjoll’s shadow out of the inn, faking a sincere smile.   “Hey what are you?” Aerin tried to protest, but there was no way of opposing that huge woman.   “Oh, relax. I have to buy some stuff, and could use a hand. I’m taking Erik camping, you see.”   The Imperial grunted, but followed her nonetheless. He was properly raised, and it would be rude to refuse help in such a menial task.   “Say, how long has it been since she got her sword back?” Aza asked innocently, browsing a jeweler’s stall.   “Two months or so.” Aerin recalled, wondering why she cared.   “Then why is she still in Riften?”   “Because Riften needs her!” He said with confidence, to which the wretch laughed.   “Bullshit. This city is corrupted beyond her capabilities. She can’t save Riften, because it doesn’t want to be saved. She should move on and be where she’s really needed.” She turned to buy some dried meat and salt. “And yet, she’s still here, doing nothing productive but loitering around town, sleeping in your house and eating you food. Why? Her wounds have healed, she’s got that damned sword back, what’s keeping her?”   “I… she’s not ready yet.” The imperial insisted, clenching his jaw.   “She lost her confidence in that Dwarven ruin.” Aza guessed, handing him her purchase.   “How would you know?” Aerin asked, taking the supplies without protest.   “Come on, she and I are in the same trade. She stopped believing in herself. She might as well sell her sword ang dive up.”   “She’ll manage.” Aerin said, looking away.   “Not without your help, you pussy. Or maybe you like her that way; meek and dependent of you? Maybe you want her to stay so badly, that you don’t care about her well-being?” The wretch teased.   “You bitch!” The man snapped.   “Watch the merchandise” Aza reprimanded with a grin. Insults never bothered her. “Have the guts to admit you don’t want her to leave you.”   “Well, I don’t want her to be miserable either.” He confessed.   “So… go with her? Some air could do you good.”   “Why are you telling me this?” He asked suspiciously.   “Because…” Aza’s cruel face softened a bit, she wasn’t even sure herself why she had this sudden need to be helpful. “The world needs people like Mjoll! True heroes and protectors of the weak. She’s a bit thick-skulled, but I admire her. So… I want to help her.” She confessed.   “Oh…” The Imperial was speechless.   “Yeah. I’m as surprised as you are.” Aza’s smile widened. “And I trust that I don’t have to threaten you to keep your mouth shut about this whole conversation. Right?”   Aerin nodded silently, and they continued gathering equipment for the big outdoor trip.   ---   “Camping?” Erik rubbed his chin. With Aza, even such an innocent concept had a treacherous hidden meaning.   “Yeah, I think we should spend some time away from any settlements to harden you up a bit. Remember what I told you about sleeping on the bare ground, eating and sleeping poorly, catching lice and getting food poisoning? We’re going to do all those things, probably even more. And we have to visit a haunted burrow near Dawnstar soon.”   “Great…” Erik sighed, gearing up. His trophy axe was a pleasant burden to carry.   They left Riften via the main gate. They travelled north, though they had no particular destination. Although it was barely noon, the sky had darkened. Heavy rainfall was approaching.   “Why’d you set me up with that Mjoll character?” He asked.   “I figured you should meet someone with a more positive perspective on this whole adventuring thing. Mjoll’s been doing this probably longer than I do, so I wanted you to meet her. She’s okay, maybe too altruistic, but she’s alright.”   “Thanks.” He said sincerely.   “I wouldn’t bother if I didn’t think it would help you learn something.” She said, as the last warm rays of the sun shone on her pauldrons. To Erik’s demise, her new armor was sturdier and less revealing.   “Like when you beat the shit out of me on our way to Falkreath?” He asked with a sour face.   She laughed as first raindrops fell from the sky. The painted lines in the corners of her eyes soon smudged and ran down her face.   “Well, you did learn that being an adult hurts like a bitch, didn’t you?”   “Yeah…” he muttered, unconsciously rubbing his scar. She was feeling better, so he could finally pressure her a bit. “Listen… Yesterday you told me that you had to take up adventuring. Why? Why’d you choose this life?”   “This again? Ugh… I had no choice.” She said indifferently. Damn him and his curiosity.   “Why, what happened?” He kept pressing.   “Life happened.” She replied vaguely.   “That’s no explanation! Come on, suddenly you can’t be frank with me?”   “Erik, it’s not even noon yet and you’re already annoying.” She sighed, sweeping her wet hair back. The rain wasn’t that bad, but they were already soaked.   “Come on, we’re not going to walk in silence.” He insisted.   “Drop it.” She warned.   “No.”   “Your money or your lives!” A fur-scanted highwayman jumped out from behind a tree brandishing a jagged iron sword.   “Erik…” Aza sighed.   “I’m on it.” He said indifferently, dropping the sacks and reaching for his axe.   ---   They hiked north, towards Eastmarch. One night they set up camp near the border with Morrowind. It was already dark, two rabbits and a pheasant were almost done, steadily baking over a small campfire. The air was saturated and warm, thanks to the nearby hot springs.   “You’re not going to drop it.” Aza sighed, when she noticed how insistently he was staring at her.   “No.” Erik said, lying down on his bedroll. He rested on his side and kept gawking.   “Fine. Ask your damned questions.” She gave in, sitting down on her own bedroll opposite to him. The small fire was separating them, casting shadows on their faces.   “Who were you before? And why did you leave your past behind?” Erik pestered.   “Gimme that bottle. Thanks.” She took wine they found a day earlier on another lone fool who tried to rob them. “I picked up this trade when I was… How old are you exactly?” She suddenly asked.   “I turned nineteen this spring.” Her partner recalled. Aza didn’t comment, but when she met him he had the mind of a sixteen year old. Thank the Gods he slowly started to act and think his age.   “I was a few years older than you. I was boring, my life was dull. I didn’t feel the call of adventure, or whatever. And I was damned happy about it!” She grunted. “I liked it that way!” She drank, hiding her head between her shoulders. She shivered, though it wasn’t because she took her armor off. “I already told you I’ve spend most of my life among travelling merchants back in Hammerfell. It’s because my parents had a caravan, like many desert Redguards. You could say I grew up on the trading route.” She glanced at him. Erik didn’t move an inch, his eyes were fixed on her face. She hated when he was like that; like an alert animal.   “Go on…” he encouraged patiently.   “It’s not that easy.” She supported her back against a conveniently placed tree trunk. She closed her eyes, warding herself from him with her eyelids. “Ask questions. This might get me on track.”   “Who’s Zia?” He attacked. Aza opened her eyes as if he slapped her. “I heard that name that night in Falkreath. You thought I was a sleep, but I wasn’t. I didn’t want to get punched again, so I pretended I was sound asleep. You said I’m just like…” He suddenly paused when she covered her mouth with her hand.   “Yeah… you’re sometimes just like my Zia, you damned brat. Maybe that’s why I like to play mom to you.” She confessed, resting her clenched fist on her lap. “I used to have a family of my own… She was my daughter.”   Erik forgot to close his mouth. Aza had a kid? That hawkish, cynical woman with a heart filled with debauchery and alcohol was once a normal, dull family woman? What in Oblivion happened to change that?   “I remind you of your daughter?” He asked cautiously.   “Yeah… Those big blue eyes of yours and how innocent and helpless you are…”   “Am not!”   “Really? ‘Ma’am, please!’ Remember?” She did her best impression of his tone when she harassed him the first night she spent in his father’s inn.   “Screw you.” Erik couldn’t help but blush, remembering how her chest pinned him against the wall and her leg was brushing his groin. And how frantic that made him.   “I last saw her when she was three…” Aza sighed sadly, rubbing her blind eye.   “I’m sorry.” He said, attempting to get up.   “No. Stay where you are.” She pleaded. He was surprised she didn’t scold him, or throw something at him. He obeyed. “I loved my kid. She had her father’s lips and my nose. My man… he was a terrible pushover. But he was so incredibly patient and kind. Surprised I was married?” She asked, jerking her lips upward. “When my folks died, I was left with the caravan. I had no idea how to handle logistics, I mostly guarded it. Thankfully, I met my future better half. Our caravans merged, I handled security, and he took care of the rest. We didn’t get along at first, but later…” She looked away, her face softened a bit. “It was good. In time, we decided to take our partnership one step further. It wasn’t like you Nords do, with amulets and a trip to the temple, but our bond was true. Then we had a kid, and everything was perfect.”   “Until…” Erik recalled the conversation they had behind Frostfuit inn. “You fell into an Orc ambush.”   “Yeah. Bastards took out most of our guard, though we managed to kill a few. In the end, there were only three on three. I lured them away, while my man and kid took the last carriage. They got out alive while I stayed. The rest you probably know.”   Erik felt a chill in his gut. He knew.   “Three of them raped and beat me for the entire night. When they had their fun, one strangled me with his bare hands, whilst the remaining two gathered the spoils. I took my sweet time, so he just beat me over the head with a rock and left to die. As you can see, I didn’t. I woke up the next day torn inside. Both literally and figuratively. I could hardly breathe, my throat was so swollen. That rock didn’t kill me, but from that night forward my right eye is of no use.”   “Aza…” He whispered horrified.   “Don’t silence me now.” She raised her palm. Her face was dark, but calm. “You wanted to know, so let me finish. I saw horse tracks heading north, to Sentinel, our destination. The Orcs wandered east, they didn’t bother with pursuit. You have no idea what a relief that was. My family was safe, I was alive. And I was alone in the middle of the desert, barely able to move.” She stirred the embers with a stick. Erik was too shocked to move. “But I was lucky. I was found by another caravan. Weapon shipment for the resistance against the Dominion. They had guards, so my feeble skills were of no use. But they didn’t have a trail harlot.”   “That’s terrible…”   “No, they were okay. Gave me food, water, medicine and shelter in return for anything they’d never ask their women back home. And I delivered, I had no choice. The boys were rowdy, but never hurt me. Well, maybe I got a spanking now and then, but it turned them on, so… I learned quite a lot then. But they were heading the opposite direction, back to Hegathe. When we reached the city, they were nice enough to give me a small leave, enough to wait for another caravan to be heading thorough the desert. This time, I signed up as a guard. I guess they took my fresh scars as a sign of experience. Everything went smoothly, we got to Sentinel undisturbed. I wanted to find my family, but their trail got cold.” She sighed. “I had nothing, save for a sword and old battered armor the boys from the weapon caravan gave me. But I had luck, I guess. One Breton mage needed someone to watch his back while he was travelling incognito through High Rock. He was a hopeless pansy, but paid well. And that’s how my ‘adventuring’ career set off. That was about ten years ago.”   “Did… Did you ever find them?” Erik asked.   Instead of answering, Aza suddenly sprang up. Her neck cracked, as she twisted to look at the sky, to the south. Her eyes widened with fear.   “Put that fire out!” She quickly ordered. She kicked dirt into the campfire, paying no matter to their dinner.   “What’s wrong?!” Erik could feel her tension.   “Just do it!” She hissed. After the flames were put out, she grabbed him by the neck and pulled to the ground. There was a roar from the sky.   “Aza, what’s going on?” He asked, looking up. Something big was approaching.   “Lay flat, and don’t move a muscle!” She commanded, doing the same.   The night was well lit by Nirn’s two moons. A large, dark shape soared through the starry sky. Its massive wings were beating the air, bending the tree tops. It was a dragon. The beast flew over their camp, oblivious of their presence, and headed north, carrying a ground-shaking roar.   “Dragon…” Erik whispered, not believing his own eyes.   “Yeah…” she said, standing up. “Dragon.”   “You sensed it!” He suddenly realized.   “No, I didn’t.” She denied, looking away.   “Don’t make a fool out of me!” Erik got up as well and put his hands on her shoulders. “You sensed that dragon! And you used the Voice to push me off a cliff back at Nilheim! Damn it, I know, okay? I know!”   “What do you know?” She asked slowly, clenching her fists.   “You’re Dragonborn!”   “Bullshit.” She pushed him away. Erik regained balance with little effort.   “Then how are you going to explain this?”   “Explain what, Erik? That when I killed my first dragon I sucked the soul out of it? That I learned a few Shouts, and when I find one of those ancient walls with dragon language written all over them, I hear them whisper to me? Last time I checked, hearing voices wasn’t a good sign.” She feebly sat on the bare ground. She was worn out and not drunk enough.   “But you’ve been chosen by the Gods!” Erik recalled the legends.   “I didn’t ask for it! And if the Divines did choose me to carry out their big plan, well… they sure have a twisted sense of humor.”   “You’re not going to do anything?” He couldn’t believe how reluctant she was.   “What do you expect me to do?” She shouted, for the first time losing her cool around him. “I’m just a drifter, who has enough luck and smarts not to get killed. Fuck the Gods, I have my own problems! Let someone else play savior and hero! I’m out!!”   Aza rushed out of the camp into the darkness, leaving Erik completely confounded. Though, it wasn’t the fact that he was now certain she was Dragonborn. She was once a wife and a mother. A perfectly normal and happy family woman. And that was taken away from her. Not destroyed, but taken away. She was left in the desert, hurt and broken. To survive and keep her sanity, she had to toughen up and become… What she was now. Hard, cynical and guarded. His heart ached, as he felt sympathy wash over him. Life was so unfair, and the bards never sang about the tragedies of ordinary people.   In the morning they packed their things and pushed on north. Erik was certain she was on the verge of getting rid of him, so he did his best not to arouse her anger. He didn’t touch any of the two sensitive subjects. Several weeks had passed. And as the Redguard foretold, they had it rough. They ate badly, Erik caught nasty food poisoning that made him beg her to gut him and make the pain go away. They slept poorly, the lad finally learned to wake up at the faintest sound. They bathed seldom, though luckily they didn’t catch lice.   Time strangely blurred as they roamed Eastmarch. He couldn’t recall how much time had passed when they reached Winterhold. The icy shores and snowy mountains were not meant for the likes of Aza. She caught a nasty cold. Though she was coughing and had a runny nose, she refused to get back to civilization and see a healer. She promised to do so when she spots first signs of pneumonia. Erik, like every Nord, was unaffected by the cold. Although, he was still freezing.   And they fought. There were always beasts on their paths and occasional bandits, but they weren’t a surprise anymore. They came across a troll and an unbloodied vampire, which proved a challenge but in the end fell. The real problem was when they stumbled across a cave infested by Falmer. They barely got out alive. During those few weeks they didn’t touch each other. Erik felt the same compulsion he experienced back home. He spent more time alone, jerking-off and muttering curses. Pleasuring himself wasn’t enough anymore.   Eventually, they reached Yngvild.   ---   “Son of a bitch.” She muttered, spitting at the lifeless body of the Necromancer Arondil. The burrow was his private world of madness, death and forbidden pleasures. Aside from his vile experiments, Arondil also kept a harem of undead women. And some of the bodies were fresh. The twisted wizard used the bodies of both draugr and young women to fuel his army of concubines. Some were centuries old, some recently deceased Dawnstar servant girls, some looked like travelers. One particularly caught their attention.   “She looks just like…” Erik whispered, as they approached the now lifeless body of a woman that was Arondil’s personal guard.   “I know. She’s the one we came for.” Aza gently brushed hair from the now truly dead woman’s face. She had bright red hair, sensual lips and green eyes with little golden sparkles. The family resemblance was undeniable, she was Brynjolf’s kin. A sister, distant cousin, daughter maybe? Her body was perfectly preserved by magic. It bore signs of abuse… and use. Sick fuck.   “This… this is really evil.” Erik said gravely, kicking the Necromancer’s corpse.   “It is. Beasts, monsters and bandits are nothing compared to something like this. Something so twisted and… intended.” She said gravely, staring at the red-haired woman.   “Right.” He slowly nodded.   “I’ll loot what there is to take, you pile up the bodies and soak them with oil. We have to burn them.”   Erik followed her instructions. He felt his insides twist, but not because of the bodies he had to carry. He just couldn’t believe something so sick could be true. In the meantime, Aza gathered anything of worth. Soul gems, jewelry, the recently captured and imprisoned women’s personal belongings. One of the knapsacks had a few letters and a locket with a strand of red hair inside. Those must have been hers.   “You… know what’s it like.” Erik stated the obvious, as she returned and threw the knapsack on top of the slowly smoldering pile.   “I do. High Rock, second year of my travels. I heard that some crazy Necromancer was abducting girls from the nearby village, and using them in his experiments. I went to investigate… And ended up as one of his test subjects.”   “Stendarr…”   “It was my fault. I wasn’t cautious enough. That sick motherfucker… He kept me for almost a month, did unimaginable things to me. He drove me near death dozens of times, only to use Restoration and start the whole thing over again. I thought I was going to lose it. But he got careless and I managed to break loose. I killed him, yeah. But not after I made him pay.”   “You sound ashamed.” Erik said, surprised.   “Because I am ashamed, Erik! I should have killed him quickly, just like Arondil. But I made him taste his own medicine.”   “You’re excused.” He assured.   “No, I’m not. I should have just cut his head off and leave that place. But I broke his mind first. I succumbed to my lowest desires, and I’m ashamed of it to this day. Those poor, innocent little things… The youngest was maybe thirteen, the oldest less than seventeen. He reduced them to mindless shells, soiling themselves at the faintest sound and giggling or crying for hours. I put them out of their misery, burned all his tools and notes, then left and never looked back. It took me nearly a year to recover and finally be able to bed someone.” Her gaze blurred, as she visited the darkest corner of her memory.   They waited in silence until the bodies turned to ask. Arondil and his sick journals were burned in a separate pyre. Aza faintly recalled that Vekel over at the Ragged Flagon had a buyer for such unusual literature, but those journals were far too evil to be spared. There was nothing left to be done at Yngvild.   “Aza…” he whispered, just as they were about to leave. “I’m sorry.”   “Don’t be. Those were my lessons. I’m alive, free and sane, still in one piece. That’s more than I could hope for.”   “I…” He was about to declare something noble and stupid.   “You won’t let me suffer any more of those things, eh?” She guessed. “If you’d say that a few weeks ago, I’d laugh in your face and then break it. But you know what? Fine, play my protector, if it pleases you. Now come on, we have to get to Dawnstar, this place makes me remember all my nightmares.” She ordered, ending her sentence with a cough.   They gathered their loot and left the forsaken tomb.   ---   At Dawnstar they got her to a healer to take care of her cough and booked a room at the inn. Camping was finally over. They ate, paying no mind that the other guests sat as far from them as possible. Weeks without bathing paid their toll. They got a bath after they ate, and Aza was able to get a hold of a courier passing through.    “B. It’s done. A.” She wrote on a piece of parchment and ordered it be delivered to Riften. But just as the courier was about to leave, she halted him.   “Was there something else?” The man asked, obviously in a hurry.   “Any chance you’ll be passing through Rorikstead, love?” She asked.   “Just Whiterun, but if you have a delivery to Rorikstead I can pass it to some other courier heading that way.”   “Great! Wait one more minute.” She took another sheet and quickly scribbled a letter to Mralki.    “Hey, innkeep! Probably worrying your balding head off, eh? Erik’s okay. I make sure he’s eating properly and that his nose is clean. Just kidding, he’s doing good. I never thought an axe could be used so creatively. He’s healthy and still in one piece. A few scratches here and there, but what did you expect? He’s slowly growing to be a man. Virginity still intact, if you were wondering. I want it to be special. Much love! - Aza… Here, make sure it reaches the innkeeper at Frostfruit Inn.”   “Sure thing ma’am.” The courier took the letters and the gold. A second later he was gone.   “Feels good, doesn’t it?” She asked, sitting next to Erik at the bar.   “It does.” He agreed. After those few weeks in the wild, he was overjoyed by the perspective of a hot meal, a bath, a real bed and a good drink. He was happy to be sitting at this inn, clean and shaved, with his belly full, surrounded by other people and feeling the warmth of the hearth. Life was good. “What’s our next step?” He asked, passing her the ale.   “Do we need a plan? Let things play out on their own.” She waved her hand. She was pleased that he didn’t bother her anymore about her past or her ‘blessing’.   “Hey…” He cautiously made conversation. “Sorry, okay? Sorry about being so nosy. I just really wanted to know.”   “And now you do. Just don’t ask any more questions.” She refuted.   “Sure.” He agreed reluctantly. She was so stubborn about ignoring her situation. “Listen, while I was waiting for you, I heard some rumors. There’s a museum open, the guy running it needs some artifacts retrieved. Interested?”   “Sure, why not.” She agreed, pleased to see him show some initiative. “Miss home yet?”   “Sure I do. Well, not farming and cleaning rooms, I hope I’ll never have to hold a broom or rake again. But I miss my pa. Do you…?” He bit his tongue. He wasn’t supposed to ask. But instead of getting angry, Aza put her hand over his.   “Always. I’m not a heartless monster, you idiot.” She puffed offended. “Ah, but enough about me! What will you do once you grow tired of me?”   “I thought this is a commitment.” Erik joked. “But I was thinking about going to Hammerfell once I made enough money.”   “You’ll die of a heatstroke within three days.”   “Thanks…” He drank his mead giving her a nasty look. During those few weeks his features lost some of their softness, but he was still so wonderfully boyish.   A young Imperial woman appeared next to them and ordered a large jug of mead. Aza crinkled her nose, there was something strangely familiar about her. She was wearing a skimpy green dress so typical for tavern wenches and expensive beige boots with gilded buckles. Her dark hair was loose, which was unusual for an Imperial, as it usually meant the woman in question had little moral backbone. She seemed familiar. Aza tried to put a name on that face. The woman noticed her and quickly looked away, obviously recognizing the Redguard. So, they were somehow acquainted. The woman took the jug and disappeared in one of the back alcoves.   “You know her?” Erik inquired. He could have sworn that green dress barely covered her nipples.   “I think so… Ria!” Aza suddenly remembered. But why was the youngest Companion here, without her armor and war paint, dressed like a slut? Something was suspiciously dirty here. “Come on, let’s go say hi.” She pulled her partner to the curtain separating the alcove.   “What took you so long, bitch?” They heard a harsh voice scold.   “I’m sorry, Master.” The Imperial’s voice was timid. “There were… other people.”   “Vilkas! Ria!” Aza called, pushing the curtain aside and bluntly entering. Erik followed.   The man was a dark-haired Nord with a blatantly displeased look on his stern face. Dark war paint around his icy-gray eyes made his face even more intimidating. He was wearing armor assigned to the Companions fighters guild. The woman known as Ria was sitting on his lap.   “Get the…!” He raised his voice.   “No chance in Oblivion!” Aza cut him off, sitting next to him. Erik sat down as well. This was going to be interesting. “Whatcha guys doing so far away from Jorrvaskir?”   “We…” Ria was about to say something, but she noticed the sharp look in Vilkas’ eyes. She stared at her lap, it was obvious how uncomfortable she was in this outfit and situation.   “Get to the room and wait for me.” He ordered, pinching her side. Ria gasped and quickly left the alcove.   “She doesn’t speak unless spoken to?” Aza guessed. So… they were into that kind of stuff.   “No, she doesn’t. Should I teach you some obedience as well?” He proposed.   “Watch it” Erik grunted, getting up. He wasn’t sure, but for a moment he saw a strange yellow glow in the warrior’s cruel eyes.   “Erik, sit down. Bandits are one thing, but you have no chance against a trained warrior.” Aza warned, putting her hand on her partner’s shoulder, forcing him to sit. Although Erik had potential and talent, but he had no chances against a Circle member. And a damned werewolf. “Vilkas, wipe that look off your face. Erik’s more than meets the eye.” She added.   “I’m sure he does it.” The warrior laid back. “What is it you want?” He sighed annoyed. Though unpleasant, his voice bore characteristics of an intelligent man.   “Nothing. I thought I’d say hi. So, you’re in that sort of relationship?” She winked.   “There is no relationship.” The Companion rebuffed.   He knew Ria was a pushover ever since she joined. At first he paid her no mind, occasionally venting his frustrations on the rookie. But after Kodlak, his brother and he agreed to contain their bestial selves, Aela and Skjor, who were more than happy to be werewolves, became distant. And that meant one thing; no more fucking the red-haired Huntress. She slept with the Harbinger and other Circle members out of her own initiative to ‘keep morale up’, but after the small disagreement they had over the beastblood, she refused to bed them anymore, saying she had no time for whiny milk-drinkers. Kodlak wasn’t bothered at all, due to his age and health. Farkas didn’t complain, just spent more time alone. As for Vilkas… he was growing frustrated. He liked it rough, and to be truly satisfied in bed he had to either sleep with another lycan, or someone who enjoyed pain and abuse. And that was when he noticed how Ria’s eyes were glimmering and how hard she bit her lower lip when he scolded her.   He took her along on a small job and made her his bitch. Damn, he was so turned on by the perspective of making her submit, that he jumped her in the middle of the woods. She screamed and cried, but she didn’t fight back, even when he gave her several opportunities to. She wanted it, the dirty Cyrodiil whore. When he got off her with his back scratched and his balls finally emptied, he could at last think clear. She was bruised and pained, but the tears on her face were tears of joy. He became her Master, she became his Slave. He finally had an amiable fuck toy, she was happy to be his bitch. Perfect harmony.   “Just sex, violence and mind control?” Aza suggested with a wide smile.   “I’m old fashioned like that.” Vilkas gnashed his teeth. Erik noticed how large his incisors were. “I see you got a boy toy of your own?”   “I’m not anyone’s toy!” Erik protested.   “He’s my partner.” Aza explained calmly. “He watches my back and I watch his.”   “I see…” Vilkas eyed Erik. The look in his eyes was clearly unimpressed.   “Damn, you know I never suspected you’re into pinch and squeal.” Aza said with an impressed whistle. “Think you could handle me?”   “Are you challenging me? We can always test each other’s mettle in bed.”   “Only if you promise to bring your brother along.” Aza conditioned with a sweet smile.   “Oblivion take you!” Vilkas snarled. “Why is it that you women always want Farkas? What does he have that I don’t?!”   “He’s a good guy and you’re a scumbag.” She revealed innocently.   “Well, this is nice, but I have a slut to break.” Vilkas got up. “Goodnight to you both. I know mine is going to be good.” With that, he left.   “Aza, shouldn’t we do something?” Erik asked concerned , grabbing her by the wrist.   “Hm? Like what? And why?” She asked, drinking the mead the two Companions forgot.   “That guy is abusing that girl!” Erik cried out.   “Yeah, I noticed.” She said calmly.   “And you’re going to sit here while he rapes her?”   “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Who said anything about raping?!” Aza was surprised. “No one is raping anyone here!”   “But, you saw how he treated her.”   “Yeah. Oh, right…” she suddenly realized he was unaware, “you have no idea what’s going on. Listen, it’s okay, it’s an arrangement between those two, and we have no business butting in.”   “Arrangement?”   “Yeah, he likes to hurt someone, and she enjoys being hurt. So they clicked together.”   “You mean that woman is happy when that bastard mistreats her?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.   “Yes, some people like that. Calm down, I know them. Vilkas is an asshole, but he’s not a monster. He wouldn’t be doing this without her consent, trust me.” The Redguard assured. “Though it’s sweet to see you’re still so innocent.”   “Bite me.” He puffed. “Is his brother better looking?” He inquired.   “They’re twins. You should see the two of them in action, what a sight.” Aza’s thoughts drifted away. “What wouldn’t I give to have them both do me at the same tine…” She sighed. She found the idea of being screwed of a pair of twins, regardless of gender, mind and cunt-numbing.   “I’m sitting right here!” Erik shouted offended.   “Jealous?”   “No! You can sleep with whoever you damned please!” He lied. He was jealous.   Aza punched his arm with a chuckle. Erik grabbed her waist and pulled closer. She didn’t push him away. Gods, how he missed her tongue grinding against his!   “Mmm…” She purred pleased. She missed his mouth as well. “Want me to give you some advice?”   “Sure.” He murmured, inhaling the scent of her hair.   “Be good to women you’ll fuck. If you’re nice to them, they’ll let you do all sorts of crazy things they’d never agree to otherwise. Anal, ass-to-mouth, swallowing your cum, you name it.”   “Noted.”   ---   Ria was patiently waiting for her Master. Just as instructed, she was sitting on the bed, wearing only her boots. Vilkas entered. He was pleased she was so obedient. Stupid, but obedient. He resented tops that employed too much violence to make their bottoms submit.  He was proud that his sheer will and an occasional slap or light binding were enough to control Ria and make her do, or be done to, anything he damned pleased. He ignored her and sat on a chair. Still silent, he grinded his teeth. Damned Aela and Aza! Bitches! He should be angry at his brother as well, but he couldn’t. Farkas was probably oblivious of his frustration. He’d never understand, he was always so damned nice.   “Master…” His Slave’s shy voice ended his unhappy thoughts.   “Shut up, slut.” He ordered, getting up. He was angry. Ria shivered with anticipation mixed with fear. Vilkas grabbed her by the chin and pulled her head up. Their eyes met. “Safety word for tonight is ‘Wuuthrad.’” He said indifferently.   “Yes, Master.” She whispered obediently. He spat in her mouth, the Slave swallowed his saliva with delight.   “What do you say, bitch?”   “Thank you, Master.” Ria thanked, feeling her abdomen slowly heating up. She’s going to get it rough tonight, she could feel it. Rage was radiating from his every pore.   “Show me your assets.” He ordered, sitting back in the chair.   Ria presented herself to him as best as she could. First, she squeezed her tits. Though they weren’t big, the areolas of her nipples were unexpectedly large and light. She shamefully spread her legs, revealing her small, tight pussy. As he ordered, it was bare and smooth, revealing her pale pink lips. Her hands reached between her thighs and carefully spread her labials open. The sight she exposed was pure and pristine, not many men had the opportunity to stretch and use her. Her clit was trembling, slowly getting hard and big from the excitement. What did he have in store for her tonight? He didn’t move a muscle, assessing her with those cold grayish-blue eyes. He was angry, but seemed uninterested. Vilkas giving her the cold shoulder was the one thing she couldn’t bear. He could slap her, pull her hair and fuck her without foreplay, but he truly hurt her by simply ignoring her.   “Master, am I no good?” She asked, on the verge of crying.   “You’re pathetic. Buy you’ll do. Hands behind your back, don’t you dare use them.” He grunted, getting up. Gazing into her wide, helpless amber eyes, he stripped out of his armor. Painfully slow, he laid it on the chair and approached her. Without warning, he grabbed her by the hair and forced her head to meet with his slowly hardening member. Her jaws were painfully opened, his cock shoved all the way down to her tonsils. Vilkas smiled almost innocently, as he stuffed her mouth, muffling her whimpers. Her hands were behind her back, just as he told her. He didn’t need rope or cuffs; her body and his will were enough to bind her powerless.   His cock was getting harder and thicker, she felt veins emerge on the shaft, teasing her tongue and palate. She could barely breathe, drooling intensely. Her Master was keeping her head firmly in place, painfully pulling her hair. His whole shaft was coated in her slippery saliva, which dripped from her chin down onto her chest and lap. Finally, he released her. Ria pulled herself away from his member and coughed, spitting and crying a bit.   “On your back, you deserved a bit of foreplay yourself.”   “Thank you, Ma…” He slapped her, the Imperial fell flat on her back, though her hands were still behind her back.   “Bitch, if I’d want you to talk so much, I’d tell you. Do you understand?” He hissed, laying beside her.   She nodded. He slid his hand between her legs. His hands were large, with rough skin and thick fingers. He roughly pushed two inside, ripping a high-pitched squeal from her throat.   “You’re already wet, you weak-willed wretch. You like it, don’t you? Don’t nod!” He scoffed, his other hand pinched her nipple painfully hard.   “Yes, yes! I love it when you give it to me rough, Master!” She cried out, feeling her face flushing red and pussy loosening up. Still, the friction was painfully overwhelming, she wasn’t ready for penetration yet.   She was so malleable, almost disgustingly eager to please him. He could go to extremes with her and she probably wouldn’t protest. He could harm her mind and body in any way he’d like. But being a dom wasn’t power without responsibility. She trusted him enough to give him full-control over the situation. He had to be careful not to overdo it. At least at this point.   “Grab the headboard.” he whispered into her ear. “And cling to it the entire time I use you.” He added, kneeling before her quivering legs. Foreplay was over.   His shaft had a natural curve and the sides of his glans were jutting, so that every thrust could be felt with incredible intensity. She was wet, but not relaxed enough. Perfect. Without warning, he rammed his dick into her small pussy. Though it was painful for her, for him it was pure ecstasy. Ria screamed, as her vagina was brutally spread, she felt heat as her inner walls were roughly grazed by the veiny shaft.   “Y… you’re tearing me apart!” She cried. Her Master, grabbed her by the throat and bent forward, his face was directly above hers.   “And you love it, slut.” He murmured, feeling her hips jerk upward so that he could thrust his member even deeper. With an amused laugh, he squeezed her throat tighter, shoving his tongue into her mouth. She coughed, but would never dare to push him off. She loved to feel his large, rough, almost bestial tongue. Though she needed air, she indulged in this brief moment as Vilkas rarely kissed her. After a moment long enough to make her dizzy, he let her throat go. The Imperial fought for air, heaving her chest. He pulled out, conjuring another cry from his Slave but this time it was a cry of protest. Though her pussy was small, she was addicted to that man’s cock. And the man himself.   “Tell me, Slave…” He asked, as his glans slid from her vulva to her asshole, his entire cock generously coated with her slippery juices. “Do you think your ass deserves some attention too?”   “I’d love that, Master. Just, please…” she wanted him to go easy on her, not like he did last time. Though, last time he didn’t bother with any foreplay at all, just bent her over a bench and impaled on his huge cock.   “Shut up” he said almost lovingly, as his cock was shoved into her backdoor in one powerful thrust. “Don’t even think about screaming” he added. “If anyone hears you, you can forget about our little games. Now, be a good girl and relax. Your Master is going to cum in your gut tonight.”   Ria’s hands squeezed so hard on the wood, that her knuckles got white. She felt as if her ass was burning, with his dick tearing through it. Her pussy gave away how much she loved it, as more and more juices leaked from within. Without a word, Vilkas stuffed her tiny hole with his fingers, amused to see her fight for some dignity. She had non to be spared around him. She gave in, moaning and crying, fidgeting like a wounded animal.   “Talk to me, bitch. How much do you like it?” He asked. He was sweating, his war paint smudged, his predatory eyes were burning.   “I love it, Master!” She said truthfully. Though abused and humiliated, her eyes were glimmering with pleasure. “I…” she bit her lip just the way he loved it. “I love it how your huge Nord cock pounds my pathetic Imperial ass. I deserve it.” She confessed with tears rolling down her cheeks.   “That you do.” Vilkas agreed, mercilessly abusing her holes.   He kept thrusting in the same rhythm; slow but painfully deep interchangeable thrusts with his cock and hand. Gods, she was tight, he could almost hear how painfully her holes stretched. He doubted anyone ever gave it to her this rough and good. She was going to come soon, she could never hide it. He picked up the pace, feeling that he was going to ejaculate soon, as his spine tingled and his loins burned.   “Here’s to you, Slave.” He grunted, as he felt he couldn’t hold back any longer.   His thick and rich cum, the seed of a full-blooded Nord warrior and Moon-Born, shot into her rectum, the pressure was so great that some squirted outside. Ria took a loud breath, as this sudden sensation made her come as well. Her pussy tightly enveloped his fingers, as she felt her body and mind melt in his grasp. She released the headrest, her body was completely numb. Vilkas pulled out, more cum flew from her ass with a loud embarrassing sound, but she was too worn out to notice. He unexpectedly pulled her by the arm to once again meet with his member.   “Clean me up.” He ordered.   “No, please! I had it in my asshole!” She protested.   “Suck your Master’s cock clean, Slave!” He ordered, slapping her again, this time displeased he had to do it.   Whimpering, she obediently licked her Master’s penis clean and swallowed the remaining cum that got under his foreskin. She wiped the tears from her face and fell on the mattress. She was relieved of tension, but shame slowly crept into her mind.   He exhaled with relief. Thankfully, he didn’t have to fight his bestial side tonight. He knew that one night he could go overboard and break her neck or tear her into pieces. But somehow, he knew that these little sessions helped him keep the beast at bay. He lied behind her, Ria was sobbing and trembling. He wrapped his arms around her, biting into her neck. Hard enough to show who was in charge, but not enough to damage the skin.   “You did good.” He praised briefly. “Get some rest. Tomorrow we have a citizen to rescue from a bandit gang.”   “Yes, Ma…” The Imperial realized that tonight’s game was over. “Yes, Brother.”   ---   Unfortunately for Erik and Aza, the two Companions’ room shared a wall with theirs, and it seemed that their beds were exactly at both sides of that wall. They could hear everything.   “Gods, some people get off on strange things!” Erik whistled, half-shocked and half-intrigued.   “Believe me, this is actually quite tame compared to some things people do behind closed doors. But don’t you worry…” Aza smiled, pulling her old nightshirt over her head. “Our first time will be sweet, regular and boring.”   “Really?” He asked, raising his brow. Something else also rose a bit.   “Yeah, really.” She bent forward, her rack bulged underneath the fabric. “I’m going to lie on my back and scratch yours whilst you do me, okay?”   “Okay.” He agreed with a dumbfounded smile.   “Tonight?” She suggested, tilting her head.   “I…” For a second he was on the verge of pulling her onto the bed and finally doing it.   “No, please! I had it in my asshole!” They heard a desperate cry from behind the wall.   “Suck your Master’s cock clean, Slave!”   “Goodnight.” Erik said, as the mood was definitely ruined.   “Goodnight.” Aza sighed, blowing the candles out.

Chapter 10 - Fate

They didn’t assist the Dawnstar custodian with his project. The whole thing reeked of Daedra involvement, and Mehrunes Dagon was far too evil and deceitful to be evoked. They left Dawnstar, heading towards Morthal. Surprisingly, the capital of Hjaalmarch was never visited by the Redguard adventurer.   “Creepy swamps, mosquitoes, mist and mudcrabs.” She muttered, shrugging. “Great place to get beaten over the head and dragged away by something… creepy.”   “Like what?” Erik asked, calmly surveying the marsh. He finally learned to be alert but not jumpy.   “Werebears, werewolves, vampires…” She enumerated. She never saw a werebear, they were just a legend… probably. And the only werewolves she met were thankfully not feral. She also thanked her good fortune that she never came across a full-blood vampire.   “You think we’ll stumble upon of those creatures?” Erik asked with an involuntary shrug.   “In the daylight? No. Now, when it’s getting dark? Like Oblivion I do!” She confessed embarrassed. “Let’s pick up the pace. I hope they got something to do around here.”   Morthal was the ugliest and most unwelcoming settlement in all of Skyrim. However, underneath a repulsive layer there lied a dark secret. It all started when they inquired about the burnt-down ruins of a family house. In time, they uncovered a scheme woven by an ancient vampire to enslave all of Morthal. The Jarl was mortified, and offered a handsome reward in exchange for dealing with the bloodsucker. This was risky, but they took the job nonetheless.   ---   “This is it.” Erik stated the obvious, gazing into the dark cavern that lead to the lair of Movarth, the Master Vampire.   “Yeah.” Aza cracked her knuckles. There were other residents or Morthal with them, but they were of no use aside from two people; Benor and Thonnir, a pair of relatively able men.   “What’s the plan?” Erik, pulled out his axe. The metallic-green orichalcum shone in the dim light. It was noon, but it seemed that the sun never fully shone over Morthal and the surrounding marshes. The air was cold and damp, making everyone and everything feel clammy.   “It’s the middle of the day, they should be asleep. We go in there and do this the old fashioned way; torches and steel. You people” she addressed the angry mob, “should get back to your homes. Prepare healing and cure disease potions, just in case. If we won’t return by sunset, board up in your houses and wait for dawn. Then… tell the Jarl’s wizard to collapse the entrance. Come on, let’s go.” She turned towards the entrance. Her cheeks were ashen.   ---   The vampires were mostly fledglings accompanied by thralls. They bled and screamed when dismembered and stabbed just like regular mortals. Movarth himself proved to be a real challenge. The four of them cornered the vampire, each taking a portion of damage, whilst the others attacked. It was surprisingly Thonnir who landed the final hit that killed Movarth. Rage that fueled his heart was more than enough to take down five Vampire Lords.   “Anyone got bit?” Aza asked, sheathing her weapon. The stench of vampire dust and burning flesh was too intense to bare, their eyes got wet and red, the main chamber was barely visible through the smoke.   “I’m fine.” Benor said, shaking off dust from his shoulders.   “Same here.” Thonnir sheathed his iron sword. His Laelette was finally avenged.   “Erik?” She turned over to her partner. He was missing. “Shit, Erik!” She screamed, suddenly noticing a shadow in the nearby corridor. Alva was still out there.   ---   How could he want to harm this sweet creature? Alva wasn’t dangerous, no. In fact, she was the one who needed protection. She beckoned him from the shadows whilst… the people he was with were busy… He heard her voice in his head. So sweet and innocent, and yet sultry.   “You’d never harm me, would you?” She asked, putting her palms on his chest.   “Never!” He swore, his eyes were matte, gazing somewhere beyond his mind. Their color changed from clear like a mountain stream into dark and muddy like the marshes of Hjaalmarch.   “You’ll protect me from all those terrible people?” She inquired further, pressing her body to his. He didn’t notice how cold she was.   “Yes.” He whispered mindlessly, slipping away.   “Good…” Alva purred pleased, slipping her hand under his armor’s skirt. Her sharp nails tore his loincloth, freeing his penis. She grabbed it painfully hard, smiling victoriously. As she felt it erect and thicken, the look on her face became surprised, then shocked. This was… a true treasure. All hers now! Too bad that as a thrall his blood pressure will not suffice to power such a magnificent dick. She could find some uses for it.   She licked the side of his neck, feeling a long, wide irregularity; his scar. She gnashed her little sharp fangs and pressed them against his skin, jerking him off with her cold, stiff hand. She’s going to make him bleed and cum for her, before serving as a distraction for those fools who dared come after her and Master Movarth.   “GET OFF HIM BITCH!” A fist in a steel gauntlet appeared out of nowhere and punched her straight in the face, breaking a few teeth and smashing her lips.   “No!” Erik yelled, as Alva staggered back, followed by Aza. He tried to pry the Redguard wretch off his beloved, but an elbow to the gut knocked him off his feet.   “Benor! Thonnir! Restrain that idiot!” The Hammerfell bitch ordered, mauling Alva’s beautiful face. “Bitch, cunt, slut, whore! He’s mine, you hear me? MINE!” She shouted, reducing the vampire’s face into a bloody mask. Alva tried to fight back, but Aza was like an enraged bear sow. The undead’s sharp nails barely scratched her arms and face, mostly grinding against the steel of her armor.   “Get off her! Get off her you damned bitch! Alva! Let me go you bastards!” Erik cried, trying to break loose from the two men’s tight grip. He had to save Alva!   The vampiress wailed, hissed and screamed in a way no man or Mer could. Aza was in a frenzy, her white teeth were clenched, her dark green eye burned, veins emerged on her forehead and neck. The muscles of her shoulders and arms thickened, as she landed hits on the undead seductress. But those weren’t enough. With a kick of her cuffed boot, she made Alva roll on all fours. The vampire tried to crawl away, but the Redguard mounted her like a jibber mare and with a sharp pull by the hair made her expose her neck. She pulled her sword out and ran the whole length of the Skyforge blade against her throat, severing her head from her shoulders. Streams of thick, almost black and incredibly foul smelling blood gushed from Alva’s body. Aza got up, and threw the head to the ground only to crack it open with a hard stomp of her heavy boot. Dust spilled from the skull, the body turned to dust as well. Alva was no more.   “Damn…” Benor whispered. Now that was a fearsome woman.   Aza walked up to the three men. She was sweaty and earned a new scar on her arm and next to her right temple. Erik was flaccid, his arms were tightly held by both men, keeping him from falling onto his knees. Abruptly, she tilted his head upward with a pat and slapped him on both cheeks.   “What in…” Erik’s eyes were once again clear blue. “What…?”   “Let him go.” Aza ordered. Benor and Thonnir stepped aside. “Leave us.” She added.   “Aza…” Erik shuttered as they were left alone. She pulled him closer and embraced painfully tight.   “No more fucking vampires, do you hear me?” She groaned, with her face pressed tightly against his neck, where a moment ago Alva’s fangs almost bit into.   “No. No more.” He agreed, still feeble and confused. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t me.” He grasped her hair with one hand and pressed her back closer with the other. He loathed himself for being so weak.   “It’s not your fault. Few can resist.” She comforted him. Suddenly, she felt his cock, still erect, jabbing her groin. “Erik… seriously?” She asked, releasing him and taking a step back. That cunt!   “She attacked me, I swear! She grabbed my dick and mesmerized me! I was helpless!” He tried to explain himself.   “You got a handjob from an undead slut. Gross!” Aza faked vomiting.   “I’m sorry! Really, I didn’t want you to feel…!”   “Calm down.” She patted him on the shoulder before he said something stupid. “She mesmerized you. And it’s not like we swore fealty to each other.” She was about to search the small chamber for valuables, but he held her by the wrist.   “What do we have, then?” He asked.   “Partnership. I trust you, you trust me. Don’t rush it.” She laid him off. She should see that one coming. He grew attached more than he should. She left Erik to his embarrassment. It was good his mind was clouded with Alva’s spell when Aza shouted in a fit of rage and… jealousy? Bullshit!   ---   The spoils Movarth gathered over the decades were impressive. Perhaps they weren’t legendary artifacts, yet he had gold, jewels, fine weapons and apparel.   “We could live like kings from the money made off these!” Erik exclaimed, marveling at the piles of treasure.   “Erik…” Aza pinched his arm. She noticed the sharp, grave looks Benor and Thonnir gave them. Greed, not gratitude was in their eyes. She had to think fast. “Well, I think this is more than enough to repay the good people of Morthal for their suffering, right boys?” She suggested with a wink.   “I’m sure the Jarl will compensate you for your trouble.” Thonnir assured, eying the piles of goods. This was bad, word will soon get out and every resident of Morthal will want to get their cut. They had to get out of town fast.   “We’ll get back with the good news.” Aza excused Erik and herself, sharply pulling him towards the exit.   “Aza, what are you doing? We earned those!”   “The moment you’d put your hand on any of that stuff, you’d have a blade in your gut. Didn’t you see the way they were looking at us? We best get to the Jarl as soon as possible, get paid and get out of Morthal before those people tear their throats out for some gold and gems. Trust me, our lives are worth more.”   “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He agreed with a pained sigh. On top of the pile he saw beautifully crafted elven armor. His size, no doubt. But life was life.   ---   Jarl Ravencrone claimed to be a seer. And that was no boasting. She gravely greeted the two adventurers returning from Movarth’s Lair.   “I am thankful that you freed Morthal from the vampire threat. But I fear, that now we must face the darkness that lurks in our own hearts. My steward will provide you with potions to cure any diseases the undead might be carrying and your pay. Now, I must ask that you leave Morthal at once.”   “Of course, my Jarl.” Aza said humbly. Facing an angry mob was the last thing she wanted. Erik shared her point of view. They collected their reward and fled the unwelcoming town, hoping to never have to roam the putrid marshes of Hjaalmarch again.   “Bastards” he grunted as they hiked east, towards the Pale.   “You can’t expect them to be always thankful.” Aza preached.   “I learned that by now.” He sighed. He wasn’t so naive anymore.   “Hey!” She put her arm on his pauldron. “You’re not going to turn into a bitter asshole now, are you?”   “Of course not!” He assured, the familiar cheer brightened his face up. “I won’t let one unpleasant experience darken my spirit.”   “That’s my boy!”   ---   The Pale led through snowy pine forests and rocky hills. They roamed the land, explored ancient tombs, beast dens and even cleared an old abandoned fort. They decided to visit Windhelm, the first human city in recorded history. There was bound to be something to do there. On their way they took a longer stay at Nightgate Inn near Lake Yorgrim. Their funds were modest, most of their wealth consisted of a few pieces of weaponry and armor they hoped to sell for a fair price. Thankfully, business was slow, and the inn had reasonable prices. After getting food, a strong drink and some rest, Erik inquired about any special services the house might be offering. He was overjoyed when he learned that they could enjoy a traditional Nord sauna. He paid for the service himself, promising Aza she never experienced anything like it before. Intrigued, she accepted the offer.   ---   “Why did no one tell me about this sooner?” She asked amazed, sweating intensely in the small wooden room. The air was stuffy and hot from the steam. Both of them lazed on the wooden bench, sweating out foul fluids.   “I knew you’d like it.” Erik smirked, pouring more water over the hot coals. More steam filled the room.   She undid the linen towel she had humbly wrapped around her and laid on it flat in all her naked glory. Erik observed the familiar curves and lines of her body. He wanted it. Not because she was a woman, moreover a Redguard woman. Because she was, well, her.   “Oh, it feels like I’m melting…”   “Lay on your belly” he proposed, reaching for the birch branches the innkeep provided.   “What are those for?” She asked incredulously, raising her brow.   “To stimulate blood flow. Come on, I won’t hit hard.” He tempted.   Aza got down on the floor just as he instructed, her chin rested on her hands. Erik tossed his towel away, sitting at her side. The branches swished in the stuffy air, hitting her between the shoulders.   “Ow! You sure this is necessary?” She hissed. Erik whipped the small of her back and her ass, leaving small flushed marks on her dark skin.   “It’s good for you, trust me.” He assured patiently. He lashed her some more, pleased to see her squirm, but enjoy herself.   “I can’t wait ‘till I get my hands on you!” She said, biting her lip. Her whole back stung, though it was strangely pleasant.   “Is that a threat?” Erik asked, whipping her ass with more confidence. “Are we going to just roam the land with no fixed destination?” He suddenly asked. Adventuring wasn’t quite what he expected, but he was happy. However, he couldn’t help but feel lack of any drive. A cause.   “And what do you expect?” She sighed, looking over her shoulder. This was such a nice afternoon. Why’d he have to ruin it with his nagging? “You wanted adventure, you have adventure. Shouldn’t you be satisfied?”   “I am. I think. But I have no idea where we’re heading with all this.” He expressed his doubts. He quickly realized how ambiguous his words were. Did he mean the whole adventuring thing, or whatever there was between them? He had to change the subject fast. “Because you’re… well, special. Chosen.”   “Really? Wow, my ma would be so proud!” She mocked, rolling on her back. “I already told you. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. I’m not special and I’m not exactly what you would expect from a legendary hero. Period.”   “The Divines chose you” he reminded. “But don’t worry, I won’t push. I’ll let fate bite you in the ass.” He added quickly, seeing her expression.   “Fate!” She laughed. “You believe in fate?”   “Well…” He took a moment to consider. “I don’t believe destiny controls every aspect of our lives. But I think that some people’s affairs aren’t entirely free from the Gods’ influence.”   “That… makes some twisted sense. But I’ll believe it once it happens.” She brushed his speculations off. He brushed the branches against her tits, making her nipples stand at attention.   “Can I get a boobjob?” He asked all of a sudden. He wanted to feel her heavy, firm and yet soft breasts massaging his cock.   “Aren’t you getting a bit spoiled here?” She teased, sitting up. Her shapely ass rested on the soles of her feet.   “Please?” He pleaded, tossing the branches aside. He reached to pinch her nipples. She thrust her chest towards his eager hands. She felt her spine tingle as he played with her rack. She felt growing excitement, but not because someone touched her. Because Erik touched her. That wasn’t a good sign. But she didn’t want to bother with it now.   “Sit on the bench and relax.” She instructed. Her partner almost tripped over his own feet, he was so eager. She crawled between his legs and stroked his inner thighs. His impressive dick twitched as it was steadily hardening.   “What’s so funny?” He asked cautiously, when she giggled like a young girl, not a woman in her early thirties.   “Your balls are like an old man’s!” She said, as she stroked his shaft and teased his testicles. His sack was loose and saggy from the heat and humidity. He said nothing, but pinched her harder. “Ow, okay, okay! Less talking, more service.” She pouted. Her lips were wonderfully full and soft when she made that expression.   Those lips closed on the head of his member, her tongue encircled the sleek glans. The warm spheres of her breasts pressed at both sides of his shaft. Rhythmically, she moved up and down, her sweaty tits squeezing his rod and her mouth playing with the head. He missed her wet, welcoming mouth. He felt even hotter, sweat was pouring down his back. He was still tugging and pinching her nipples, observing how she worked his cock with a playful look on her face. He missed her touch, it wouldn’t take long.   Aza felt he was going to come soon, he couldn’t hide it from her. His head tilted back, exposing his throat, his chest heaved, his breathing became loud and irregular. She squeezed his cock harder, impatiently waiting for him to climax. She wanted to see the look on his face and hear him grunt in pleasure.   “Almost… there!” He warned with eyes closed.   Cum shot from between her breasts, marking her neckline and chin with cloudy, hot sperm. He kept ejaculating, his thighs squeezed her ribcage and shoulders, as his muscles tensed. He was holding back for far too long; she was soaked with his semen, which lazily dripped down her face and neck, streaming to her cleavage still stuffed with his dick. It was too much for even her large breasts to contain, his jizz dripped from their sides and under the line between them. Her belly and lap were stained as well, she was generously showered by his young cum.   “Damn…!” She managed to shutter. He must have missed her.   “Sorry” he apologized, though the look on his face was far from remorseful. He needed that. It must have been really long, as he felt his ballsack lighter than ever. His load was condensed and impressively rich. Aza was dumbfounded how generously he climaxed. Like a breeding stallion!   “So, I assume you’re a boob person?” She joked, reaching for the towel. She was sweaty and soaked in sperm, it felt great in its dirty, lewd simplicity. Lazily, Erik got up and pulled her to do the same.   “I’m a you person.” He said straightforwardly.   “You shouldn’t have said that.” She sighed with a frown.   “I know, but I don’t care.” He declared carelessly.   “It’s because you’re young and stupid.”   “I know. And speaking of being stupid…” He picked her up. She was heavy, but nothing he couldn’t handle. “This is my favorite part of a traditional Nord sauna. The one I forgot to tell you about.” He said cheerfully. He kicked a backdoor open, which up to now Aza took for a wall, and with the Redguard in his arms he jumped out of the small wooden cabin into a freshly cracked air hole. Ice-cold water closed around them. As Aza resurfaced, her scream could be heard all across the Pale.   When she gathered her bearings she beat him. He managed to dodge some of her attacks and even counter a few, but in the end she gave him a black eye. It was totally worth it.   ---   Windhelm was the heart of Stormcloak influence in Skyrim. The city was ancient and beautiful, but also cold and unwelcoming. Ice made the stone pavement treacherous, not to mention any steps. Snow was stuffing every corner and crevice. The air was dry and cold, taking a deeper breath felt as if one swallowed pounded glass. Even the native Nords felt the chill that pervaded everyone and everything.   The two, from lack of better term, adventurers sold their spoils, inquired about the local news and got a few leads on some small jobs, like retrieving a stolen heirloom, slaying a beast that roamed the area or bringing someone a specific object. Erik wanted to see the city, curious of its landmarks. History marked every street and building. They passed Windhelm before, but that was when they were camping, and they weren’t supposed to visit any settlements. Displeased, his partner gave in. They wandered the city weary of their steps. When it was almost dark, she led him to a house in the wealthier district, exclusively Nord.   “Not the inn?” He questioned, seeing as she opened the door with a key.   “Candlehearth Hall? No. It’s too costly and inhospitable for the quality of their services.” Aza dismissed, closing the door behind them. “And I doubt we’d be welcome in the Grey Quarter either.”   The house was large and roomy, but completely empty. No one lived there for some time, the decorations and most furnishings were gone. Only a few pots and blankets were left, slowly gathering dust.   “Why is a house like this abandoned?” Erik asked, feeling a strange chill cover his bare shoulders. Ever since the vampire incident he wore pants under his armor’s skirt.   “No one wants it.” She explained, heading towards the kitchen. Sadly, the only thing left was the cooking spit and embers in the hearth. They had to cook their own supplies.   “Why?” He kept asking, staying true to his curious nature.   “There’s been a murder here. No one had lived here since.”   “Oh…” Erik exhaled loudly. He wasn’t superstitious, or at least he thought so. But he felt uneasy knowing the previous owner was killed in their own home.   “At ease, it’s not haunted.” She assured, trying to set fire under the coals. “We’ll sleep in the kitchen, this place is so damned chilly. Here” she handed him one of the kettles. “Get some snow from outside; I’m going to improvise a stew.”   “No, I’m going to improvise a stew.” He insisted. “My cooking is far better than yours. You get the snow, I’ll prepare the bedrolls.”   “Whatever” she agreed. She’d hit him over the head with the kettle, if it weren’t true. As the innkeeper’s son, Erik knew how to prepare plain, but edible grub from anything there was to gather.   He cooked, she covered the windows with the rags and blankets she found, not to give away their presence. They ate, then laid back, trying to ignore the eerie silence in the abandoned house.   “Too bad we couldn’t see the Palace of the Kings” Erik sighed disappointed. At least they were at the Temple of Talos. It felt… right to openly pray without fear of persecution. She wasn’t religious, apparently, but was respectful towards the priests and quietly sat in one of the back rows, contemplating the serenity of the temple.   “Nothing breathtaking, trust me” Aza assured, wiping what was left of the stew with the last piece of bread.   “Have you met Ulfric Stormcloak?” He asked, the familiar sparks danced in his eyes. The brat wanted a bedtime story.   “Kinda, yeah.” She admitted resentfully. “First time I was in Windhelm.”   “I was thinking about Helgen.” He corrected.   “And why do you think I was there?” She rested on her side, her brows crossed.   “Well… Ulfric was, and a dragon too… And when we were passing Helgen you were so tense. So, I just assumed you were there as well.” Erik added one to two. He had the talent to ask the right and inconvenient questions.   “Yeah, I was there, waiting for execution along with the rest of the Stormcloaks. And before you ask, I’m not on their side. I’m not on anyone’s side, I want nothing to do with politics.”   “So, what happened?”   “Bad luck. I was jumping the boarder and fell into an Imperial ambush along with the rebels. They round us up in line for the chopping block. No hard feelings on my part, though I didn’t want to die just because I was at the wrong time and place. And then…” she swallowed with difficulty. Her throat was dry, and there was no drink handy. “A big-ass dragon wreaked havoc on Helgen. Yeah, that’s how I met Ulfric, though I was too busy surviving to exchange pleasantries.”   “What then?”   “Gods, you’re so nosy it makes my teeth hurt!” She suddenly screamed. Her voice echoed in the empty house. She crawled to where he was resting and laid down on him, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the floor.   “I’m… I’m sorry!” Erik tried to calm her down.   “I’m not a damned freakshow, you know? Stop interrogating me!”   “I never thought you were a freak! A bitch with a terrible personality, but never a freak!” He swore. Her grip loosened.   “That’s what I want to hear, maggot!” She hissed, letting go. “My turn!” She announced with a nasty grin. “I’m going to invade your privacy for a change, how do you like that?”   “There’s nothing to invade, Aza.” Erik said with a sigh. “I’m boring.”   “That’s up to me to decide.”   “Fine, ask.” He surrendered.   “Tell me, what was it like growing up in Rorikstead?”   “Good. Dull.” He answered briefly, looking away. She had no intention of getting off him.   “You’re not even trying.”   “Well, what do you want me to say?” He frowned. “My pa fought in the Great War. He settled down to raise a family. My ma died before I learned to walk. I don’t remember her.”   “I’m sorry.” Aza said. She noticed he never mentioned his mother, but didn’t push the subject. Until now.   “It’s okay.” He said calmly, at peace with his loss. “It’s not like I knew what I was missing, right? I worked since I learned to walk and use tools. When I was old enough, I started farming. It was dull. My father had many books he bought from Cyrodiil. I begged him to teach me to read, but he was too busy. But he got Rorik’s steward to teach me in his spare time. And I read all of my father’s books, each dozens of times.”   “What kind of books?”   “You probably know. Adventure, romance, heroic ballads.” His thoughts drifted away. “By the time I grew my first chin hairs I didn’t need to read them anymore as I memorized every tome. I could kick back, relax and recreate everything in my head. And that saved me.”   “From what?”   “I’m not sure myself. I wasn’t abused, I never had to go hungry. I had a roof over my head and my pa loved me. Maybe he was a bit overprotective, but he meant well. My peers didn’t bully me, I had a few friends. Nothing bad ever happened to scar me for life. But Aza… I felt so out of place. My life was good, but so meaningless. There were moments I felt I was going to scream until I lose my voice. Eventually, most of my friends moved away, whilst I stayed in Rorikstead to live my bleak life, working the field and cleaning rooms. My pastimes included jerking-off and listening to the unrealistic songs of the bards. But I had my books and daydreams. Maybe those made me a bit strange and absent-minded, but Aza! I was sane!” His voice shook.   “Erik…” she reached to touch his cheek, but he grabbed her hand. His hair, usually swept back, covered his eyes.   “And then you came along. You humiliated me, plucked me out of what little dignity I had, played with me, almost had me assault you… And then helped me out. I’d die there if it weren’t for you. You have an awful attitude, and you’re far from gentle, but…” his jaws clenched. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”   Aza wanted to say something snappy, but nothing came to her mind. Her instincts were right about busting him out of Rorikstead. If she didn’t, he’d either kill himself or snap and hurt someone. His dark side was too dangerous and well-hidden to be left alone.   “Okay, okay, you impassioned fool.” She said softly, laying on him, her cheek rested on his collarbone. “I’m here to watch your back and wipe your nose.”   “And give me blowjobs?” He suggested.   “And give you blowjobs.” She agreed.   “No more questions for now?”   “No more. I think we had enough heart-to-heart for tonight.”   “Can I get a kiss goodnight?” He asked in his normal cheerful tone.   “I could give you more than that…” her voice dropped an octave.   There was a sudden shuffling noise. A large clay pot skidded into the kitchen. They both froze, petrified by irrational fear. The pot slid alongside the floor, until it met with a sudden crack in the wood. It toppled over, revealing a robust skeever. It climbed onto its hind legs and surveyed the room. When it noticed the couple in the corner, it dashed away into one of the nooks in the floor.   “If there was any mood, it’s definitely gone now.” Erik concluded, still a bit shaken.   “Yeah, let’s get some sleep.” She got off and lied next to him, clenching his side. It was so damned cold in this city.   ---   Windhelm provided a lot of odd jobs for a modest pay. They remained almost a week in the freezing city, spending their nights in the abandoned house. But as days passed, it became clear that sooner or later someone would notice them squatting in a house they didn’t own. It was time to pack their things and move on. They made some gold from small tasks they performed for people around the city. Surprisingly, it was the Argonians living in the docks outside of Windhelm, who paid most generously for retrieving a trinket or talking down someone in the city walls. It was Shahvee, a female Argonian, who pointed them to a bigger, more complex job; guarding a Khajiit caravan.   “She has breasts?” Erik asked dumbfounded, when they were walking along the bridge that connected Windhelm with land.   “I know, right? Why? They don’t nurse their children, so why do they have those in the first place?” Aza shared his curiosity. “Okay, stay cool and let me do the talking.” She advised, as they approached the Khajiit camp near the stables.   “This one welcomes you.” The leader of the caravan greeted them, squinting his feline eyes. “What business do you have with Ma’dran?”   “I hear you need guards for your caravan. I have experience with protecting caravans, my friend is durable and fierce. We can get you safely anywhere you need on Skyrim.”   The cat didn’t bother with getting up from his ottoman. He eyed Aza, then Erik. He nodded. Their scars and signs of usage on their weapons and armor apparently appealed to him.   “Ma’dran’s nephew is a student in the College of Winterhold. He’s a source of pride to the whole family. Unfortunately, his father recently passed away. Ma’dran has been entrusted with delivering his ashes to the mourning son. You will escort the caravan north. The road is not long, but treacherous, inhospitable to the likes of this one. My guards are loyal and experienced, but time is crucial. We leave at dawn, you will be provided with food and drink…” he paused. “No mead, no ale. Warm water.”   “Understood.” She agreed without a word of protest.   “Has the other any questions?” The cat asked, widening his bestial face with a smile that exposed his sharp ivory teeth. One of his fangs was solid gold.   Aza spent the next hour planning, arguing and negotiating with the Khajiit, whilst Erik patiently stood by her side, every now and then clearing his throat or adjusting his axe. Finally, it was settled that the two would escort the Khajiit merchants and in return be paid a satisfying sum, along with the promise of a discount for any future purchases with any of the Khajiit caravans present on Skyrim.   “I’ll bet my good eye that we’re helping them smuggle skooma to the bored students up at the College.” She whispered into his ear, as they wandered a bit away from the camp.   “Isn’t that a bit prejudiced?” Erik asked incredulously.   “I could be mistaken. But if something goes wrong run like the wind.”   “They have horses. I’m guessing we’re travelling on foot?” He said with a heavy sigh.   ---   No bandit in their right mind would plunder in the weather that followed. Wind and snowing didn’t stop for two days as they travelled north, off the main roads. It was the beasts, crazed by the cold and hunger, that were the problem. Their white furs made them hard to spot until they struck. And they were larger and stronger than those found in the southern half of the province. Aza was at the disadvantage because of her one working eye, but her senses of hearing and smell were sharper than most people’s. Erik was alert, a trait he learned while camping. Some of the roads they travelled were familiar from their camping trip. Still, Winterhold was dangerous and unwelcoming.   “This one regrets not staying in Elsweyr.” Ra’zhinda, the female guard complained, covering her sensitive nose with her furry tail. “Her paws would feel much happier bare on the warm sands.”   “If it’s warmth you need, kitten, you know where I sleep!” Aza called out to her. In return, the Khajiit’s ears stood at attention, and then fluttered. The cat was considering the offer.   A shadow slid above them with incredible speed, followed by a strong airstream and tiny shards of ice that felt as if they could cut skin. A roar from the sky startled Ma’dran’s horse, which almost stampeded panicked if it weren’t for its master and his whipping rod.   “DRAGON!” Ma’jhad, the other guard shouted, pointing at the barely visible shape in the snowy sky.   The dragon was white, just as the wolves, bears and foxes that populated the area. It landed directly ahead of their path in the narrow gorge. The ground shook underneath its massive body. The beast’s wings stretched sideways, blocking the path. It roared, conjuring another small earthquake. The Khajiit immediately retreated on their mounts.   “Pull back, pull back!” Aza shouted. “No! Run!” She cried, when she saw Erik arm himself with his trusty axe. Meanwhile, the dragon took a deep breath, which meant only one thing.   “FO KRAH DIIN!” It exhaled a breath of ice. Aza dashed left, Erik dashed right. She recognized the Words, he heard only deafening roar.   “Aza!” He called out, seeing the dragon’s eyes set on her. Her black hair and dark skin were clearly visible in the snow. The Redguard, dashed away from the dragon’s jaws, the beast bit into solid rock behind her. Enraged, he crushed the ice between its massive jaws.   “Run, idiot! RUN!” She shrieked, attempting to get behind it. The dragon turned its massive head and long neck to its hind legs, trying to bite her upper body off. Erik seized opportunity and leaped towards it, his axe ready to hack and slash. He struck from above, severely cutting the dragon’s neck, but not deeply enough to sever its head.   “I’m here, you damned beast!” He yelled, as the dragon turned to face him. He had no time to think or feel fear. There was no chance of escape, the Khajiit were long gone by now. They were alone with the dragon.   “IS SLEN-” The white monster attempted to use its Voice on the daring little human.   “YOL TOOR SHUL!” Aza’s Voice was heard with force from behind. Erik felt a flash of heat, as she exhaled fire directly at the dragon’s rear. It roared in pain, getting off the ground with a few flaps of its leathery wings. The blast of air almost bending the two to the ground.   “I told you to run!” She yelled, running towards him.   “It’s no use! We have to fight it!” He yelled back. “There’s no escaping now!”   “Shit!” She cried out, as the beast encircled them. “Come on, it’s too narrow to maneuver here. There should be a clearing up the road!”   They ran, followed by the dragon. A few yards later, they found themselves in a much wider, but still desperate position. All around them were mountains and snow, too high and steep to climb. The path behind them was instantly blocked, as the dragon landed and was now creeping up on them. Its wings, underbelly and tail left deep rows in the almost solid-frozen ground. Steam was coming from its nostrils.   “Erik…” her voice shook, but somehow she managed to gather her bearings. “Draw it under that slope, the one with the loose rocks. Run like Oblivion itself, when you hear my Voice.”   “Got it!” He said with a nod.   He leapt towards the monster’s head, dodging its horns and maw. He struck it just behind the eye, but didn’t stop to see if that did any good. He scraped its side with the axe and kept luring it under the wall. Meanwhile, Aza ran towards her position, praying that Erik doesn’t trip or get smacked by the dragon’s tail. But he had to do it! After all, he was with her and she was the damned Dragonborn right? Right?!   “Aza!” He called, as the beast almost stomped him. They were at the wall, a few rocks slid down the slope.   “Get out of the damned way! Move! Move! Move!” She yelled. Erik rolled to the ground, avoiding his arm getting chewed off. He got up on his feet and ran.   “Aza! Whatever it is, do it now!”   “FUS RO DAH!” She Shouted. Her Thu’um was not directed at the dragon, but the mass of loose rocks and boulders above it.   As her Voice clashed against them, an avalanche came crushing down on the white monster. It tried to fly away, but a large boulder fell on its wing, immobilizing it. The rocks, ice and snow that followed smashed its back and almost cracked the horned head. The dragon roared, as if it was trying to rip the sky open.   “It’s still alive!” Erik cried, getting up. The moment the Shout conjured an avalanche, he dashed from its radius, falling flat on his stomach.   “GIVE ME THAT!” She groaned, pulling his axe from his grasp. He didn’t protest. This was between her and the monster.   “Dovahkiin…” It said as she approached it, clenching the Orcish axe. The dragon’s white scales were stained with blood, one of the horns broke off. From neck down it was completely buried in ice and stone. “Still running?”   “Pucker up, lizard. Your soul is mine.” She foretold gravely, raising the axe.   She struck the dragon right between the eyes. And again. And then again, until the orichalcum cracked the thick skull and sunk into the soft flesh of the brain. The dragon released a sound being a combination of a grunt and hiss, then its head hit the ground.   Aza released the axe, still plunged into the dragon’s cranium. Something started to happen. The beast’s scales and flesh began to peel off, like paper set on fire. Bare bones appeared underneath. They started to radiate golden and white light that somehow streamed towards, no, into the Redguard. She took a step back, peering into the dragon’s now hollow eyesockets. The tendrils of light pervaded her body, strong wind followed, her black hair danced in the current. Finally, as she absorbed the dragon’s soul completely, she was tightly enveloped by a radiant layer of gold and white, which quickly sunk into her body.   “By the Nine…!” Erik whispered in awe. She devoured its soul completely, just like in the legends!   She ignored him, climbing the dragon’s burial mound. As she reached the top, her head bent backwards, her mouth pointing directly at the sky.   “FINE! YOU WIN! I GIVE UP! I’LL DO IT! I’LL BE YOUR DAMNED HERO!” She cursed the Gods, her voice caused another small tremor. “AND AFTER I’M DONE I WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU! YOU HEAR ME?! NOTHING!!!”

Chapter 12 - Tonight

This was going to be a night to remember. Question was; how was it going to be remembered? He nervously glanced at the clock at the top of the Temple of the Divines. It was barely past noon, he still had a lot of time.   Okay, first things first, he should get a room. And not in some shady tavern, no! He weighted the coinpurse, it was more than enough for a suite fit for a thane… Or so he hoped. He should make it nice for her, right? Well, he was the virgin, but that didn’t mean he could be sloppy. What did she like? Money, booze, bladed weapons and… No, no, this was pointless. She liked… Rabbit, ale, pears, good quality cheese of Nord produce and the scent of exotic spices, probably reminding her of her homeland. Okay, so aside from the room and refreshments he should get her…   Wait, scratch that, he should focus on himself now. After all, he was giving himself to her, right? When was the last time he got a decent scrub and a shave? Well, maybe not a clean shave, but he should trim his facial hair… And his ballsack. Then, he should get a hot bath and comb his hair, he could harbor a fugitive in that unkempt mane.   It was still early, so he should first get a room and order everything, then groom himself. He marched towards the center of the metropolis, he recalled an inn that looked promising; the Winking Skeever.   ---   Finally! She’s going to fuck him tonight! She’s going to take him for the ride of his damned life! She’s…! Aw, what was wrong with her? Was she that heartless and sex-driven? No, of course not! She could still be truly intimate with someone! And not just anyone, but Erik. Her little Erik, who came a long way from a daydreaming farmboy to a young promising man.   Funny, at first she just wanted to molest the cute ginger from a village she’d probably forget the day after. Guess she had more fun with him than she anticipated. And in time she started to play his mom, then partner. Yeah, he was a good kid… guy. And he was going to be her man tonight. Hope he won’t get nervous and spoil everything for himself. She’ll be nice to him… Unless he does something really stupid.   She reckoned he’d be bright enough to get a room. As for her, she could use some pampering. Well, the scars, blind eye and a terrible attitude were impossible to fix, but she should prepare for him, her bush had recently grown back and was quite the itch. And she could get herself some nice lingerie, not just practical linen undies. Something pretty and frilly, meant to be stared at and then ripped off.   Damn, she felt like a teen again! With a smile that made her look almost beautiful, she ventured towards the market district. She had some gold to spend.   “Oh, a customer…” Taarie, the Altmer proprietor of Radiant Raiment, greeted her with her trademark sour expression.   “Yeah, yeah, I am unworthy to enter your shop. Listen, lady” Aza placed her hands on the counter, leaning forward confidentially. “Tonight I’m going to screw a boy I like. I need something that will make his jaw drop three stores below. Got anything my size?”   “Do you have coin? Because eloquence alone doesn’t impress me… Ma’am.” Taarie’s shrewd eyes were dispassionately eyeballing the customer. The Redguard had a morbid taste in make-up; brick-red eyeshadow and black eyeliner? Please!   “Lady” the Redguard showed her an emerald as green as young grass on the very first days of spring, and as big as a baby’s fist, “this is our lucky day.”   “Indeed” the shop owner agreed politely, her face was a mask of perfect coolness. “Please, step right up. And if you don’t mind me suggesting, I know a good hairdresser and bathhouse.”   ---   Corpulus Vinius, the owner and proprietor of the Winking Skeever, knew when to ask questions and when to smile and just nod. He had instinct that was crucial for his trade. When he was approached by a strapping young traveler, he instantly knew the lad was here to do serious business.   “I need a room for a day, maybe a few.” The stranger said, visibly nervous.   Corpulus pondered if he was a fugitive or someone with a shady background. But the man looked nothing like it, even though the axe he was carrying looked as if it seen enough things to give him nightmares.   “I see… Well, I have a cozy quiet room, though it’s near the kitchens…”   “No, I need something nice, with a good bed and a view. It’s… um… It’s for a girl.”   Vinius relaxed. Ah, so this was that kind of a guest, eh? Good, and he looked as if he had the coin to pay.   “Of course, I got something special for you. But I want to see the gold up front… And I see it.” He noted with a whistle, as Erik put the coinpurse on the counter. “Please, let me show you to your room…” He beckoned, heading upstairs, to his best room.   “I think this will do.” The traveler was pleased with the accommodation he was provided.   The bed was big and solid, covered with fresh, soft sheets and decent sized pillows. There was a separate room with a washtub, as Solitude and Markarth were the only cities in Skyrim that had hot and cold running water. The view from the window (with real glass!) was encompassing almost the entire city. The room was large enough for a short stroll. This looked promising.   “Is there anything else you’d need?” Corpulus smiled sincerely. Although he wasn’t given the entire content of the purse, he was paid fairly… and most generously. He was on the verge of giving that sudden patron a big wet kiss.   “Yes. Food, drink, good quality candles…” The man paused searching his memory.   “Mayhap I could recommend you a good barber?” Corpulus’ face was the picture of delight.   ---   “OUCH! Missy, I intend to use this tonight!” Aza screamed as the young Breton girl tore off a piece of material with her dark hairs attached to it. She considered waxing more efficient than shaving, though painful as Oblivion.   “I could give it a kiss if you’d like.” The girl joked, reaching for a jar of hot wax.   “Sorry, my dove. I’m set up on a date tonight.” She declined, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.   “Is she nice?” The girl was apparently the talkative one. It never failed to amaze the Redguard how people who made a living off tending other’s bodies liked to their customers in conversation.   “It’s a guy. He’s… nice.” She agreed. “Sometimes stupid and stubborn, but trustworthy. And fun to have around.”   “That’s something. Stripe or completely bald?” She inquired, gently soothing Aza’s irritated skin with an oiled cloth. Too gently, but the Redguard didn’t protest.   Aza stared down at her crotch. The strip was a nice touch, but she wanted to fully feel his skin sliding against hers. She trembled a bit, imagining him working her pussy with that thick, veined, beautifully shaped…   “Give me the full service, love. And then let’s try to do something about my eyebrows.” She ordered.   “But first, ma’am” the Breton smiled disturbingly cheerfully, “I’m going to ask you to bend over for me. We’re going to have your ass-crack waxed as well.”   “Booze!” the Redguard shouted towards the passing by serving girl. She experienced various kinds and levels of pain, but having her most sensitive regions waxed was something she couldn’t endure sober.   ---   “Is she nice?” The barber inquired, struggling with Erik’s full grown beard.   “No, not really.” He replied truthfully, trying not to move. He already had one scar. “She has a temper.”   “I see…” the man with the shears was a bit confused. “Well, she must be pretty then.”   “I’m not sure.” Erik took a moment to think about it. “Well, she’s not ugly, but a bit… scarred. Actually, she has them all over.”   “Oh…” the barber had many strange customers and this one seemed to be one of them. “Well then, she must have…” Actually, he had no ideas what to think about his patron’s lady-friend.   “She always has my back and makes sure I won’t get into trouble.” Erik said and suddenly laughed, thankfully the shears retreated in time. “And she has the finest rack and rear in all of Tamriel!”   “Ah! A fine woman, then!” The barber laughed. No, this customer was as normal as one could be.   ---   The sun had set. The crowd had already gathered at the courtyard behind the Bard’s College. He was resting at the stone steps, away from the crowd, trying not to look as if he was impatiently waiting for someone. Viarmo, dressed in his best clothing and holding a beaming torch, approached the straw dummy of King Olaf.   “Hey” she sat next to him, minding her armor. She had it polished, just like he had his thoroughly cleaned.   “Hi, want some?” He asked, offering her a meat pie he bought earlier, still hot.   “Thanks, here “She offered him spiced wine in return. “Is that… mint?” She asked, bringing herself closer to smell his breath.   “Why so surprised? I’m not a savage, you know.” He said with his mouth full.   She laughed quietly, brushing the crumbs off his lap. Her hand remained there, as she took a bite and washed it down with some wine. The atmosphere was festive, people were encouraging the College’s headmaster to finally start the festival.   “Welcome people of Solitude! We at the Bard’s College are pleased to be here to celebrate the Burning of King Olaf. The festival would not have been possible without the dedication and hard work of two brave people, who are now our honorary applicants.” Viarmo paused to let the crowd applaud the two brave heroes. The couple in question was happy to be safely hidden in the crowd. “With the lighting of the effigy…” He approached the dummy…   “Let’s get out of here!” She suddenly whispered into his ear. Her hand squeezed his lap, then slid a bit up.   “Let’s.” He agreed, pulling her up. “I got a room at the Skeever.”   “That doesn’t sound too romantic.” She hesitated as they were on their way.   “It’s just a name. And since when are you into romance?”   “I can punch you in the face if you’d like.” She offered generously.   “I think I’ll pass.”   He suddenly noticed he was walking with his hand on her ass. She didn’t protest and seemed pleased with his forwardness. They walked towards the inn, chatting about some nonsense, completely forgetting about the world around them. He hadn’t even noticed when they entered the building.   “Oh, no, no!” Aza halted as he was about to climb the stairs to their room. “A drink and some sweet talk first!” She insisted, heading towards the dining area where she took a seat at an unoccupied table. He’s going to have to seduce her. Well, at least give it a try.   “Tease!” He sighed, though her teasing was not unpleasant. He waited for so long, he could wait a bit longer. Stressing out the ‘bit’ part. Growing excited with each passing second, he headed to the bar for some refreshments.   “So… do you come here often?” She asked with a wink when he came with their drinks; dulled up ale, he wanted his senses sharp and aware.   “What?” He blinked, joining her at the table.   “Nothing, just an overused pick-up line.” She drank.   Erik noticed she had glass beads in her hair again, just like when they met. She’s going to lose all of them before the month ends. She was looking nice, clean and fresh. And so relaxed, he hadn’t seen her this comfortable in weeks.   “When did you get that?” Aza asked, noticing a fresh scar on his face; a small crescent-shaped cut under his right eye, closer to the cheekbone.   “This? I have no idea.” He said, rubbing it unintentionally.   “Don’t touch it!” She reprimanded.   “Thanks, mom.” He muttered, sticking out his tongue.   “You know, that’s not what I’d want you to scream tonight. Is there some eats around here?” She turned over to the bar.   “I got pretty much everything you like upstairs.” He tempted, drinking his ale.   “And a puppy?” She inquired, raising her brow.   “Should have told me earlier and I’d even get you a pony with gilded hooves.”   She laughed, spilling the rest of her drink. The mood was good.   “That’s what I like about you, Erik. You always say something that makes me laugh.”   “Depends if you’re laughing with me or at me.”   “Well look who grew a spine! Or did the College rub off on you?”   “Aza… let’s go. I really want it to be you…” He confessed, his hand slid across the table and met with hers.   “I love how sweet you remained, despite all the messed up stuff we’ve been though…” She purred softly. Under the table, her leg brushed against his.   “I mean it. I can’t picture anyone but you being my first.” He took a deeper breath. “And I know how naive this sounds, but it’s the truth. I know you don’t want to hear this whiny nonsense…”   “I do. Tell me stupid things, bullshit me with all that sweet gibberish. Even I like to be courted. But, Erik” she slightly frowned. “Don’t go overboard, okay? Don’t make any promises. I don’t expect you to make any obligations.”   “Why not? Are you going to say something like ‘I have a past and can’t love you back?’ ” He scoffed.   “I’m not heartless, jackass.” She kicked him, but it wasn’t hard. “But whatever you might think, you’re still young and inexperienced. I want you to enjoy life. I don’t want to hold you back. I’m not saying no, but not right now. Live a bit first.”   “I think we’re drifting a bit from the subject here.” He took her cup out of her hands. “We’ll get back to that sometime later. But now, I think we had enough heart-to-heart. Come on.”   “Lead the way.”   ---   “Damn…” She whispered the moment the door closed behind her and the staple slid into place. The room was fit for a minor noble, he really outdid himself! Quickly, she approached the bed and sat on the luxuriously soft mattress. She hopped a few times, testing its firmness.   “Is it to your liking?” He asked, walking over, trying not to sound nervous.   “Yesss… this will do nicely.” She took her gauntlets off and carelessly threw them on the nearby dresser. “We’re going to thoroughly abuse this bed, I promise.”   She had a plan; to be patient and to guide him. He had a plan as well; to be cool and natural. Both plans went through the window. Roughly, he pressed against the mattress with his bulk. She didn’t protest, her leg slid up all the way to his hip as she held him tight. Their teeth clashed when they tried to kiss, she laughed.   “Let’s slow down before someone gets hurt.” She instructed, working the straps and fastenings of his armored jacket. As it loosened, he impatiently struggled out of it and threw behind, his gloves followed.   “Don’t do it yourself, let me” Erik pleaded, pulling himself away. He cursed her choice of armor, it was a pain to finally free her from the steel chestplate and greaves. The boots, his pants and clothes they wore underneath their armors were gone in seconds.   “Like what you see?” She asked flirty, when he saw her lingerie; a set of fine light beige lace with a golden trim. Her bra was strapless, kept in place with a solid gilded ring on the center of her cleavage. The panties were low cut, there was only a thin strip going through her behind.   “You’re just… just… Ah, come here!” He pulled her onto his laps, sitting on the edge of the bed.   He felt her teeth on his lower lip, his hands were wandering up and down her back and ass. She oiled her skin, her smell was mixing with the exotic oils. Eagerly, he rolled the bra up, freeing her breasts. He loved their touch, taste and warmth, he could play with them for hours.   “Mind your teeth…” she instructed patiently, letting him nibble on her nipples and the soft, smooth flesh around them. Gods, he was into boobs.   Slowly, he bent back resting on the firm mattress. He reached down her ribcage, then her waist and stopped on her hips. Her thongs were annoying him.   “Hey, can I…?” He pleaded warily.   “Sure, bought ‘em for thins night only.”   “Great!” He slid his thumbs under both sides and pulled sharply. The material ripped, uncovering her slit. Meanwhile, she reached under her groin and undid his undergarments the more traditional way.   She sat on his slowly hardening member, the silky foreskin sent a burning sensation up her underbelly when it brushed against her pussy. She marveled how he changed during those few months. Erik was never delicate, but he lost some weight and gained a bit muscle. And when did he get more hairs? He wasn’t excessively hairy, but his chest and belly weren’t that rich in hair when she saw him naked for the first time in his father’s shed. He wasn’t a boy anymore.   “No rush?” He asked, relaxing. He was eager, though didn’t want to ruin everything.   “No, we got time. The world will have to learn some patience.”   “World, what world?” He joked.   He rolled on the bed to his side, she followed. He teased her ear and neck, stroking her hip; he could feel a scar under his palm. Strangely, they made her more appalling. Though blemishing, they were mementos of her history of enduring and surviving.   “How about I show you one fun position?” She offered, stroking his stomach. She felt her womb slowly swelling and moistening. She could probably have him now, but she knew she’d regret her impatience later. And really hurt herself.   “What do you need me to do?”   “Lie down on your back, spread your legs a bit.” She instructed, turning to face the foot of the bed. She slid above him, so that they could both pleasure the other orally at the same time.   “Love it already!” He expressed, spreading her pussy with his thumbs. The puce flesh was already glimmering. He gave it one cautious lick. The taste was just as he remembered; mind-blowing.   “The Imperials call it the ‘Victor and Victoria’, but Redguards just call it the ‘69’.” She explained, gently caressing his scrotum. She noticed a few cuts on his skin, he must have been trimming his hairs in a hurry. Tsk, tsk, impatient youth.   She suddenly gasped, as he stuck his tongue inside her without warning. It felt numbingly rough and squirmy inside her. Without hesitation, she reached for his halfway-erect cock. Gods, it was a beautiful thing! The size and proportion of the glans was ideal: its pointed shape perfect for inserting such a thick and veined shaft. She licked it with delight, tasting his foreskin and savoring the smell of his body, almost dripping with pheromones and youthful lust. With little effort, she stuffed her mouth with it, all the way to the tonsils and beyond. Deep-throating Erik was pure pleasure.   She squirmed above him as he worked his tongue, loosening her up. He slid two fingers inside, focusing on the clitoris. The little hard bump was twitching under his tongue; she loved it. Her ass moved from side to side, as his fingers teased the wet walls of her pussy. He was amazed how powerfully she could squeeze. He moved his hips up and down a bit, hearing a muffled gag. She didn’t hit him in return, so it wasn’t that bad. He bit her cheek, observing her behind pushing against his fingers on its own. Her rhythmical moves were mesmerizing.   “I can’t wait any longer!” She called, pulling his cock out of her mouth. It was now fully erect and ready for action. Her voice was strained from the waiting. Enough foreplay, she wanted him inside!   “Lie down, then.” He agreed. He never expected her to be less patient than himself.   She obeyed, her breasts bounced as her back hit against the mattress. She spread her legs, knees bend and toes curled up. Stroking her clit and nipple, she gazed at him impatiently. So, this was how a woman was looking at you when she wanted you.   “Oh, come on!” She urged. “What do you want me to do? Beg? Fine! Just come over here!”   “I’m coming, I’m coming” he assured, getting on top of her. He supported himself on one outstretched arm, grabbing his member with the other, trying not to rush. Oh, but he wanted this ever since he learned how fun it was to touch himself and that girls had different parts than boys.   Aza was observing him through half-shut eyes. She felt a tingling when his tip encircled her opening. Her juices leaked out, she saw no point in holding them back. She wanted to be as wet for him as possible.   “Stop teasing!” She begged, forgetting about all her pride. Gods, this was pure torture!   “I’m not teasing. I want to remember this moment right.” He explained quietly. This was it. “Alright” he said, slowly pushing inside. He felt the heat and wetness of her body, as the trembling walls were spreading under his cap.   She relaxed, though it wasn’t easy with all the excitement she felt. His penis was even thicker than she anticipated. The glans entered with no difficulty - the shaft followed, almost making her cry. She felt his veins and the sides of his cap rubbing her vagina, coating with her dews.   He sighed, entering her to the limits. It felt amazing, as if his body and hers somehow melted, merged together. She didn’t move, leaving it up to him to explore her and try out what he should do.   “Is this okay?” He asked unsure, when he met with resistance; he couldn’t push an inch further.   “Yes!” She grunted, her thighs squeezed his hips almost painfully. “OW!” She screamed, when he risked and retreated a few inches, then rammed his cock inside too fast and with too much force.   “Sorry!” He apologized, pulling out. Well, he did it, he ruined everything.   “You’re making love to me, dumbass, not storming a burning fortress!” She scolded, slapping his ass. “Get back here!” She ordered, seeing his expression. Whelp.   “Do it again” he asked, entering the Redguard once more. He felt stupid, but by her reaction he knew he didn’t hurt her as badly as he feared.   “Call you a dumbass?” She inquired, sinking her nails into his rock-hard rear.   “Slap my ass.” He pleaded through clenched teeth.   She spanked him hard, as he worked his cock inside her. He was moving unhurriedly, weary of any signs of her discomfort. He wasn’t sure if she liked it or not, but he tried his best.   She wasn’t mad at him, after all it was his first time. He also had no idea of his size. And he was trying so hard. She reached up, and as she promised in Dawnstar, she scratched his back, feeling his muscles working under his light skin. He pumped her too gently for her taste, but she wanted him to learn her shape and limits. He was peering into her eyes, breathing slow and deeply. He was so focused, that it was a bit funny.   “I’m okay” she muttered, closing her eyes. “Try a bit harder and faster.”   He wanted to say something similar to ‘Are you sure?’, but he bit his tongue. He was a man, he had to act like one! He increased the pace, her pussy released more wetness and moist noises. Aza moaned, the soles of her feet slid up and down his calves. She moaned louder, as he jammed his cock even harder, it seemed she was warmed up enough to enjoy it rougher.   He was so focused on her that he almost forgot about himself. And he felt great! How a woman’s body felt like and how it reacted to his exceeded his wildest dreams. And he had some wild (and wet) dreams back home. He couldn’t believe he was responsible for making her so sopping and hot.   “Oh fuck, Erik…” She murmured, feeling heat from the friction and tempo. He was inexperienced but enthusiastic, as with everything he was new to.   “What?” He asked, trying not to moan. But wasn’t silent either, his grunting made her spine tingle. Divines, she was making a man out of him!   “Harder. Oh, Gods, just like that!” She panted when he tried a different angle. “How does it feel? Tell me!” She pleaded.   “It’ s amazing” he realized she wanted details. “You’re incredibly hot and wet, so damned slippery. And you’re squeezing me so tight.”   “Like this?” She teased, squeezing him even tighter. He grunted, applying more force; he had to struggle to keep thrusting as smoothly as he did. Her resistance made him feel even more pleasure. “I want you to come inside me tonight.”   “Are you sure?” He wanted it badly, but he feared the consequences. But by the Nine, filling her up with his seed and knowing a part of him would still be inside her, even after they were long done…   “I got the potion. Now, fuck me Slayer! I want you to make me sore in the morning!”   With a roguish grin, Erik changed the position; he straightened his back, grabbing her by the hips and pulling up. Her fine ass bounced against his laps, her feet rested on his shoulders. He bit her ankle pumping harder, not giving a damn about safety anymore.   He was a bit rowdy, but he should have his fun. She crossed her feet behind his head, grabbing him by the knees, sinking her nails almost painfully into his skin. Her breasts bounced up and down, giving into his rhythm. Her insides were burning pleasingly. She wanted him madly.   “Erik…” She cried out fighting for air, she was starting to lose control of her body.   “Yeah?” He asked bending forward, their dewed foreheads met.   “If you plan on coming soon, now is the best time. Because I can’t hold back for much…” she gasped. No, no, no, not yet!   “How about now?” He grunted, feeling he was about to come too.   “Now!” She screamed, wrapping her arms around him. She scratched him badly, feeling her pussy convulse and explode in heat that reached all the way up to her abdomen. She felt him cum as well, filling her up with streams of thick rich semen.   He let his mind slip away, as he came inside a woman for the first time, flooding her womb with his sperm. And Gods, her wail! It sounded as if she was dying… and enjoyed it.   She was suddenly numb, only her pussy was slowly ceasing to rhythmically pulse, swallowing what it still could of his cum. Erik collapsed, smothering her with his bulk, she was too worn-out to push him off. The room was filled with exhausted panting of the two, the air was stuffed with the smell of sweat and adrenaline.   His mind was slowly clearing. Lazily, he bit her ear, then licked her neck. Her feet slipped off his shoulders only to feebly slide apart on the mattress. He wanted to pull out, but she suddenly regained some of her vigor; her legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him firmly in place.   “Where do you think you’re going, hm?” She muttered exhausted. Her hands possessively sunk into his hair.   “To get you a cold drink.” He gasped out. He needed one too.   She gave him a quick kiss, then released. Her juices and his seed spurted out onto the sheets, it was a beautiful sight. He got her a bottle and one for himself. She took her damp and wrinkled bra off and dried her chest with it, then reached for the refreshment. As she opened her drink, he lied next to her, staring mindlessly into the distance. His head felt light, filled with thoughtless glee.   Aza drank, relieved to feel something cold inside her for a change. So, her Erik was finally a man. She should say something now, something that will make him feel good about himself.   “Hey…” Hearing  the sound of her voice he turned his face to her, hair was sticking to his cheek. “I’ll never forget this.”   “Neither will I.” He replied, stroking her belly. He never saw her so… blissful. It was a sight to remember.   She finished her drink and shifted closer, lying on her side and resting her head on his chest. She sighed, unable to describe what she was feeling. She didn’t bother with cleaning herself up, she felt too good. And too happy to give a fuck.   He rested his cheek on her forehead, caressing her side. The entire world might as well crumble and fall apart at this point. His entire cosmos was now reduced to this room and this moment.   “You’re awfully quiet…” She whispered, her throat was worn out.   “I feel too good to spoil it with talking” he simply replied to which she laughed.   “We should get some rest…” she purred, stroking his chest. The only thing she wanted now was to fall asleep.   “We leave at dawn?” He guessed with hesitation.   “Nope.” She held him tighter. “I did the math: we have two more days to spare before we’ll have to be on our way. And” she gently stroked his now slumbering dick. “I’ll show you all that I know by then.”   “I’ll tell the innkeep in the morning.” He muttered, feeling his eyelids like heavy iron curtains.   “Tell him to get some snacks up here.”   ---   In the morning, she woke him up with a surprise blowjob, then mounted him and rode like an amazon. He laid back, playing with her tits until she came. She didn’t pause, though. Instead, she finished him off, swallowing his load to the very last drop. This was a good way to start the day.   Afterwards, he got dressed and sluggishly head down, smiling like an idiot. He didn’t care, he was carelessly happy and nothing else mattered. He paid for two more days and got food and drink, but his mind was elsewhere.   “Good, you’re back!” she welcomed him and the platter with breakfast. “Get naked.” She said, stuffing her mouth with bread and ham. She needed all her energy for today.   “You know, it would be incredibly ironic if you’d choke now” he said, sitting next to her, naked just like she told him.   She laughed, spraying crumbs all around. In the daylight her skin had a healthy radiant glow. She seldom looked happy, he was pleased to know he made her that way.   “Eat. You need your strength.” She said, pushing the platter towards him.   “Yeah, strength… Ugh, I feel like I pulled a muscle.” Erik rubbed the small of his back.   “I’ll give you a nice massage” Aza promised, reaching for a tasty looking piece of cheese. “And afterwards I want to show you why is one of my favorite positions called ‘doggystyle’. ”   ---   He was an eager student. And he caught up quickly. The day was spent on simple, carefree sex. In the evening, they decided go out on the town. Late at night, they came back to their room after lollygagging for hours, though neither remembered what they were actually doing that whole time. They fell asleep almost instantly.   The second day was for relaxation and lazy fucking, nothing rushed or excessively vigorous.   “Seriously, you’re a hopeless case” She sighed as he rested his head on her cleavage. Her stomach was showered with his sperm.   “I can’t help it. I love how they feel.” He replied truthfully. “Would you mind if we just… lay like this?”   “No, not at all.”   “It’s… nice.”   “Yeah. Makes me feel at least ten years younger” she said without thinking. She regretted it the very next second. This wasn’t time for retrospective bullshit. The past was too complicated to bother, the future uncertain. The present was all she wanted.   “I’m happy to hear that.” Erik confessed. “What will we do when we get the job done? Sorry! I forgot you don’t want to talk about it!” He scolded himself.   “Nah, I could only expect you to say something stupid.” She looked him in the eyes, wrapping his hair around her finger. “When we’ll be done with playing big damned heroes, we’ll dust ourselves off and go on another glorious adventure, Erik. We’ll have a ton of adventures, you and I. And all the fame and glory you can eat.”   “I’ll hold your word for it.”   ---   “Hey, get up. Come on! Saving the world, remember?” She shook his shoulder. It was time to go.   “Screw the world.” He muttered, reaching for the leftover ale, knocking a half-eaten apple off the nightstand.   “My thoughts exactly, but it seems it desperately needs our help. Well, mine, but you’re too deep in this to give up now, am I right?”   “As always. Okay, I’m up.” He yawned, stretching his back. He then adjusted his neck with a crack. Aza shrugged hearing the sound of his vertebras jumping into place.   “Yeah. It’s about time we left. The sheets are starting to smell.” She said, taking a deep whiff. She loved the smell of sex in the morning… Actually, she loved that distinct aroma every time of the day and night, but they were already running late.   ---   Playtime was over. They had to fully commit themselves to their mission now. But just as they entered the stables, Aza put her hand on his shoulder. Erik reacted instinctively; they shared one last kiss, before putting all tender and blissful nonsense aside.   “You have no idea how… okay I felt during those few days.” She confessed, before turning to her paint mare, saddling her for the long trip to High Hrothgar.   “I could say the same thing.” Erik said, brushing her side. “Thanks for everything.” He added, approaching his horse.   There was no need for more pretty, meaningless words. He knew, she knew - things between them were solid.   Aza was happy he could separate their intimate and everyday relations. She saw no point in denying it; she liked him. Love was a strong and completely overrated word - she trusted him and if he’d suddenly drop dead she’d be left with a huge gap in her gut. He wasn’t her first partner, but by far he was the one that lasted the longest and with whom she was through the most. That was more than enough.   Erik was optimistic, although he was aware of the dangers that the future held. Regardless, he happily carried on. He finally had all that he ever dreamed of: freedom, adventure, a loyal partner and a blooming sex-life…   “Hey!” He suddenly realized something as they passed Dragon Bridge.   “What?” Aza asked, brutally snapped out of her thoughts. She was going through the possible scenarios of the meeting of all the power players in Skyrim.   “We didn’t cover anal!” He nagged. What a pity, he found her juicy pussy and mouth amazing, but her backdoor remained a mystery.   “Tell you what, you’ve been a true delight these past days, so I won’t ram my horse into yours. And if we defeat Alduin and survive enough to bask in our triumph, I’ll let you do my ass however you like. Deal?”   “Deal!”   “Great. Now, be quiet and let me do some thinking. We got a peace treaty to secure.”

Chapter 15 - Big Damned Heroes

  “What in Oblivion is that?!” Skjor asked in disbelief, his good eye gawking at the scene below.   The girl they were supposed to rescue gagged on some young stud’s impressive dick, tried to excuse her lack of technique, then went down on him again.   “Either you need to cut down on the mead or you don’t know a huge cock when you see one.” Aela squinted at the couple oblivious of their presence.   Hulda, the innkeeper of Whiterun’s finest inn, contacted the Companions fighters guild when her close friend Ysolda went missing. From a trusted source they learned the girl was held captive near Dawnstar by daedric cultists. The two headed to the rescue without haste. It seemed, however, that they missed an epic fight. All the cultists were gone, yet there were weapons and empty robes scattered around the place and signs of fierce battle.   And now this strange scene. The girl was obviously in good health and enjoying herself, it didn’t seem the man was forcing her to pleasure him.   “Enjoying the show?” A wobbly voice asked.   Behind them was the familiar Redguard. Aela remembered her well, she made quite the impression back in Jorrvaskir. Although, when she and Skjor decided to share their ‘gift’ with her in the privacy of the Underforge, all she could say was ‘What? I thought you meant a threesome? Count me out!’ then fled.   “What’s going on here?” The Huntress asked, looking over her shoulder. That was some fine piece of manmeat.   “It’s cool, don’t worry.” Aza burped loudly. “Sorry. Y’know, come with me, I’m far too drunk to explain.”   She led them to the common room where a drunken Dunmer woman was teasing a Dunmer priest. As he was the only one sober in the group, he thoroughly explained the situation to the warriors.   “So, the girl doesn’t need rescuing.” Skjor finally sheathed his blade. “We should get ba…” he noticed his Shield-Sister’s incisive gaze.   “You. Me. Inn. Now.” She ordered, grinning ferociously. She wasn’t going to let this night go to waste.   “It was good to see you again.” The half-blind warrior addressed the scarred Redguard. “If you ever change your mind and come back to Jorrvaskir, you’ll be more than welcome. Just…” he pointed at the staircase. “… Don’t bring your friend along.”   They left the temple in haste. It was a while since they got a job together as Shield-Siblings. As they had time, they could use it for some ‘bonding’. They quickly got a room and rushed upstairs.   Aela slid the staple in place. She hungered for some hard pounding, Skjor was away for far too long. Sadly, because the rest of the Circle were whiny babies, she had only him left. She did miss Kodlak and his steady, patient style, and although the twins were nothing special separately, together they gave her some of the most intense fuck sessions. Alas, until they remembered where their spines were, they had no right to enjoy her sisterly affection.   “We’ll have it… natural tonight.” Skjor said, tearing his armor off.   He was much older, but she didn’t mind. His strength, loyalty and fierceness in battle were of ten men. Not to mention his prowess in bed, something he picked up from harlots comforting the soldiers in the Great War. The warrior’s experience and cool confidence made the proud Huntress’ knees weak. Although, she’d punch him in the face if he’d ever boast about it.   Aela unhurriedly slipped out of her armor. She heard a grunt, then a growl. The sound of ripping skin and claws scraping the floor followed. As she turned around with a pirouette, she faced a great white werewolf. The top of the beast’s massive head was balding, its left eye was completely white. It gnashed its ivory, sharp teeth as if grinning promiscuously.   “I always knew I bring out the animal in you.” She said, scratching the beast’s chin.   In response, the werewolf ran its wide, rough tongue from her navel to her throat, moistening her abdomen and chest. The Huntress shivered with anticipation. A bed was an unnecessary commodity, they had the floor. The moonbeast unexpectedly took her in its long furry arms and lifted up. Still grunting, it proceeded to mark her breasts with its teeth, leaving bruises and marks all over her fair skin. She was far from complaining, sinking her hands in the soft white fur. Skjor finally turned her over and pinned to the ground. His tongue licked her rump, Aela murmured in response, waiting for more. She suddenly felt claws on her hips ant the tip of his animalistic cock slipping between her labials. He thrust deeply in one quick shove. A howl cut the air, but it was the Huntress wailing in surprise, pain and pleasure. The beast growled, drips of saliva dripped on her back. She was much tighter as a human, he intended to make up for all the time he was away from Jorrvaskir. Tiny streams of blood ran down her thighs when his claws cut her skin, but with her fortitude they would heal in the morning.   “And I thought I was raised by wolves.” She muttered, sticking her ass further and resting her painted cheek on the rough floor.   She and Skjor enjoyed a quick and wild ride, after which they had a short break, then took it nice and slow, lazily fucking in human form. She scratched his chest, just so he didn’t enjoy himself too much. Shortly before dawn, she fell asleep with the faint realization she should mind how she sits for at least a week.   They slept for barely two hours, when there was a knock on the door. Feebly, Aela got up from their lair and hobbled to the door, forgetting she was undressed and had cuts and bruises all over. Werewolves were fun to mate with, but less predictable than men.   “What in Oblivion is so important, that… oh.” She bit her tongue before she said too much.   It was the girl they were supposed to rescue. Safe and sound, she was standing in front of the Huntress, dressed in fine silk robes. She was still slightly blushing, but was looking healthy and strangely radiant.   “I hear you’re walking me home?”   “Uh…” for a second Aela recalled Ysolda choking on the red-haired buck’s huge cock. “Yes. Just give us ten minutes, and we’ll be on our way.”   ---   “It was casual, if you need to know.” Erik said as they rode up front.   Since Erandur had no horse, he rode with Jenassa in the far back, giving them some privacy.   “You’re a grownup, you don’t need to confide everything to me.” Aza replied, still feeling her head heavy form the magical hangover. Though the spell was useful, she wished Erandur had warned her.   “I thought you’d want to know.” He said, growing sulky.   “Were you good to her?”   “I did the best I could.”   “That’s all I need to know.” She felt relief. She didn’t know Ysolda well, but was glad her first sexual experience wasn’t unpleasant, despite the circumstances.   “So, you don’t mind me sleeping with other women at all?” He grew frustrated.   “I don’t… As long as it’s casual” She said faster than she could think.   “And you’ll sleep with others as well?” He interrogated her relentlessly.   “Casually” she said honestly, quickly glancing at his profile. “I enjoy sleeping with you more than just for fun, though.”   There was movement in the bushes, but it was only an elk. It stuck its head from between the twigs, then fled instantly.   “Are we a couple?” He asked bluntly.   “I’m not sure. Besides, do you know what it’s like to really be in a commitment?” She pulled a straw from her mare’s mane. “Do you think you’re ready?”   “You keep laying me off since Solitude. I guess it’s for my own good, right?” Erik grinded his teeth, but didn’t bite his tongue.   “Do you love your father?”   “What?” Her sudden question was completely out of context. “Of course I do! He raised, fed and provided for me.” He enumerated, seeing a parallel here.   “But his love and care were smothering you, right? Despite his intentions, you wished to finally get away from him.”   “I…” this always made him feel ungrateful, but yes, he was tired of his father’s constant concern and wanted to leave the safety of his home.   “There comes a time you want to become independent of the people who care for you. Because if you don’t, you end up clinging to them and things slowly turn sour. Your pa cut you lose late, but not late enough for you to hate his guts. And I have no intention of replacing him. There’s no point in taking you with me and teaching if I keep treating you like a child.”   “Well, no one forced you to come back to Rorikstead and pick me up.” He grunted, knowing she already had a counterargument.   “You’d die within a week without my help.” She foretold adamantly. “And I didn’t want that.” She added softer. “You showed promise. And was so helplessly cute.” She chuckled, remembering the wimp he used to be.   “So, do you…?” He felt his muscles tense as he was about to ask the crucial question.   “I want all the best for you.” She interrupted before he went too far. “And that’s better than all the pretty words you could wrap my attachment in.”   They rode in silence for a while, enjoying the quiet of the pine forest. It started to snow; large fluffy flakes were lazily falling from the gray sky.   “You disappointed me there.” Aza suddenly broke the silence. “I was positive you’re going to confess something big and committing without even thinking.”   “Not this time” he declared with dignity. “Your turn to make an effort.”   “You’re an ungrateful dumbass.”   Although the Dunmer duo rode far behind, their elven ears had perfect hearing.   “Is it always like this between them?” Erandur sighed.   “You should see them when they’re moody. We could fetch a nice price for those two if we sold them to a circus. You know…” she looked over her shoulder as the priest was riding behind her. “If the road gets bumpy you should get a good grip of my chestpiece.”   “The waist suits me just fine, thank you.”   ---   They finally arrived in Whiterun. The prosperous city was busy as usual; people were going about their daily business, oblivious of what was soon going to happen in Dragonsreach.   The four climbed the steps to the Jarl’s palace when they encountered a wealthy dressed Redguard going the opposite direction.   “Do you go to the Cloud District very often?” He asked in an arrogant tone, eying the heroes.   Before he could answer himself, Aza shoved him into the moat below. The water swallowed him whole, before he bobbed up, crying curses and promises of payback.   “He had it coming.” She grunted, seeing Erandur’s disapproving look.   “I second that” Jenassa nodded.   ---   Jarl Balgruuf was loyal to the people of Whiterun first, and the Empire second. But he was also a true Nord at heart and knew that when a mythical monster, such as a dragon, threatens your people, you don’t try to negotiate but hit it in the hardest and most brutal way possible.   “I confess, I was hoping you wouldn’t return.” He sighed, seeing Aza and her comrades approach his throne. “But I know the Gods’ doing when I see it. The buildings are mostly wooden, but thankfully Whiterun is built upon natural underground streams. I’ve made preparations while you were away and we’re ready. We will hunt your dragon first thing tomorrow. And I can assure you, the great chains will hold it.”   “Of course, my Jarl.” The Dragonborn bowed with respect. She didn’t envy Balgruuf’s position, caught between the rebels and imperialists, but she admired his talent to remain neutral for so long.   “I will be joining you.”   “Balgruuf,  you can’t be serious!” The housecarl chimed in.   “I made up my mind Irileth. I cannot hide like coward in my palace while a dragon threatens my city and her people. I will face the fiend as well… with you at my side.”   “As if leaving me out was an option.” Irileth huffed.   “Do you require any assistance?” Balgruuf addressed the heroine.   “Aside from a few able men, it would be nice if you could spare us a place to sleep and something to eat.” Aza suggested humbly.   They were granted two rooms in the living quarters. One for Aza and Erik, and the opposite one for the two Dunmer.   Erik crackled his knuckles. Tomorrow they were going to do a deed worthy of song! Dragonsreach was a historical place, build to host a captured dragon. Numinex’s on the wall above the Jarl’s throne was a memento of ancient heroes and legendary bravery. He didn’t feel like a hero in the making, though. And just now, he remembered a promise he broke. He promised he would write to his father. And this was the last chance to make amends. He excused himself and headed to the Bannered Mare.   ---   “Hey, you look like someone who can handle their drink!” A stranger in black robes called out to him. “How about a friendly drinking contest for a magical staff?”   “Sorry, no time.” He excused himself, taking a piece of paper and some charcoal from the innkeeper. The woman paid her patrons little mind, still concerned about Ysolda’s fate. But Erik couldn’t ease her troubled mind, least he’d arouse suspicion.   He sat down in the far back, trying to piece everything together in his head. What should he write about? He wrote much slower than he read, and he could spend days writing down everything in detail. Then again, he was an adult, father didn’t need to know everything, just enough to know he was doing fine and missed him.    “Pa, I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner, there was much going on. Much more than I could expect in my wildest dreams…"   “Mead? Ale? Something to eat?” A Redguard serving woman attended to his table. Her brown tunic had a shamelessly low neckline. Dear Gods, there was something about Redguard women that made his mouth dry.   “I’m fine, thank you.” He declined as politely as he could.   The woman shrugged her shoulders and left, leaving him to his letter.   “… Adventuring isn’t what I expected, and I have no more illusions. But I regret nothing. I got a few nasty cuts here and there, but I’m doing fine. Handling an axe is much easier than raking or hoeing the field. I got some decent armor, good piece of leather, fits me like a glove. She insisted I use something lighter than iron. And I have a horse: a mare. She’s…” he paused for a moment to find the correct words, “difficult, but alright once you get to know her better. Aza, not the mare. I’m actually glad I met her, even though she can sometimes nag my head off. I miss you and Rorikstead, but I’m still happy to see the world outside of our village.” He rubbed his chin. Would he ever see his father again? “We’re preparing for something big, something you’d never believe even if I told you right in the face. I hope everything goes out as planned. I miss you and hope you’re doing well. Give my regards to Jouane and the girls. Erik.”   He left the letter and the pay at the bar and was on his way back to the palace. He felt an unpleasant bitter taste at the back of his mouth; anxiety.   ---   “Winged… Snow… Hunter…” Aza muttered those three words like a mantra. They composed the name of the dragon she was supposed to summon. “Odahviing.”   Maybe it wasn’t too late to pack up and try her luck on High Rock or Morrowind? How long would it take before she reaches the east or west boarder? Will her horse endure? She had some modest funds…   “Ah, shut up, you cowardly bitch!” She hissed, pulling herself from the impressive vista stretching before the Great Porch.   “I hadn’t said anything.” Erik said, appearing out of nowhere.   “Damn it, don’t sneak up on me like that!” She squeaked.   “I’m not sneaking up on anyone. I was once told by this one Redguard I’m terrible at it.” He played smartass.   “Gods, the headaches you give me sometimes…” She rubbed her temples. “Come on, we’re practicing the whole ordeal.”   The plan was simple; summon the dragon, then weaken it and lure to the trap readied at the back of the grand balcony. Once it was caught in the massive wooden blocks they had to interrogate it. But first they had to catch it and survive.   Jenassa was the ranged specialist: her role was to keep engaging the dragon with her arrows if it gets off course. Erandur was entrusted with deflecting its firebreath with his magic and if need arises heal anyone who’d need it. Erik, in Aza’s own words, had to ‘keep it pissed off’. He had the liberty of interpreting her words however he saw fit. As for herself… she would be the center of Odahviing’s attention. To put it bluntly: she was fucked.   ---   No one had any appetite, the four excused themselves from the Jarl’s table and headed to the servants’ quarters early in the evening. Saying their goodnights, the two couples retreated to their rooms.   “So… Meditating, huh?” Jenassa started conversation, lounging on her bed.   “Yes, and I would like to keep it that way if you don’t mind.” Erandur replied, not bothering with opening his eyes.   The room was cozy, with two small beds at opposite walls. The priest was sitting on a carpet, lending his thoughts to Mara. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel that all the humility and penitence in the world won’t be enough to make up for his darker days.   The amazon eyed him with growing annoyance. Priests! What useless lot! All they could do was talk and pray. She felt a growing itch. The two humans were probably humping like crazy now. And she was stuck here with a priest of Mara. Well, it was time to take matters in her own hands, she had no intention of sleeping alone tonight, not before the big day.   She reached for a platter of grapes on the nightstand. Erandur hadn’t flinched an eyelid, his face was tranquil, half of it hidden in the shadow under his hood. The baggy robe covered him whole, hiding his figure. And she wanted to see it.   She threw a grape onto his crossed laps, where his robes formed a natural cavity. There was no response. She continued, until the platter was empty and his robe full of the small sour fruits. He still ignored her, she was out of ammo. Well, she still had the platter…   He dodged it with grace, bending back the second the wooden plate was about to hit him on the head. He turned his face to her and opened his eyes.   “Is there something you need?” He asked, showing no signs of annoyance nor daring.   “Well, now that you mention it, you could finally get useful.”   “I’m sorry?”   “You priests” she slid her legs off the bed and sat on the edge, leaning forward. She was wearing only shorts and a sleeveless shirt. “You do nothing but talk, and when it gets to actually doing something, you excuse yourselves with religious nonsense.”   “Oh.” He noted patiently.   “Utterly useless.”   “What is your game?” The priest asked bluntly. He wanted to have whatever there was in the air done away with, there was no room for distractions.   “My game? What’s up with you, acting so noble and pious? So… nauseatingly humble. What do you want to make up for?”   “A lot of things I do not wish to share.” He replied in a tone that firmly, but politely cut the discussion.   “With what?” Jenassa got down on the floor and crawled towards him on all fours. “Humbling thyself? Hah! I’ll tell you a secret: the Gods don’t care. You can squat in the mud all day long, singing holy verses and they still won’t care.” She looked under his hood. Erandur’s slanting eyes were half-shut, confidently staring back into hers. “Sacrificing yourself is meaningless. Now, getting up… or going down and actually doing something, that takes guts.”   He took a moment to consider her words. Was she really telling him the truth, or did she just want him for herself for this night only? Sellswords were a deceitful lot.   “And what do you suggest I do, my lady?” There wasn’t a hint of lust in his voice.   “What was that they say about Mara?” Jenassa rested her head on his lap, laying on her side. “She’s the goddess of love and compassion? Well, I don’t see you being compassionate, you stuck-up arse.”   “Please, show me the errors of my ways.” He asked kindly.   She was a devious woman, no doubt. But, perhaps she was right? Perhaps he went too far in his conversion? Blindly worshipping Mara, but not doing any actual work in her service was pointless. He had an obligation to spread her love to the world… in any shape or form. And besides, why shouldn’t he spend a night with a kinswoman before a task as dangerous as capturing a dragon?   “Mara gives comfort to the troubled. Well, I’m troubled and I need comfort. So comfort me until I scream. That is, if you can actually do it.” She dared, seeing the change in the priest.   Erandur said nothing, but gently held her wrist. He guided her hand between his laps. Jenassa felt a bulge under the fabric of his robe. A hard, solid bulge.   “Well, you have a way of putting things in perspective, sera.” He said calmly, freeing her wrist, her hand remained in place. “I think it’s my duty as Mara’s emissary to give myself to you. And” he resented double standards, so he wanted to come clean. “It’s been awhile since I bedded someone.”   “How long?” She rubbed his erection, honestly curious.   “Long enough for me not to be picky.”   “Bastard!” She rested on her arm and grabbed the back of his hood. She pulled it sharply, for the first time seeing his face and hair. His hair was dark like hers, very long and incredibly well kept. Why did he hide it from the world like some ugly nun!? She just had to touch it.   “Have you never had a man who washed his hair?” He asked, as she played with it for a longer moment.   “Shh, talking is pointless, remember?” She reminded, feeling the silky soft strands under her fingertips.   Erandur was silent as he pulled her onto his crossed laps, her rump squashed the grapes, but neither paid any mind. She brushed her cheek against his beard; he washed and combed it daily, staying true to the proverb ‘a dirty body hides a dirty mind’.   She found his lips in the dark bush, his mouth tasted minty with a bitter hint. He lightly bit her tongue, showing he had no intention of taking it passively. The priest knew how to use his mouth, she soon found herself salivating. Mayhap he actually knew how to pleasure a woman?   He pinched her buttock, feeling her shorts wet from the grape juice. As he slid both hands under the thin fabric, he felt her skin damped and cool as well. What a messy woman she was! He motioned her to get off him and without a word guided to rest her hands on the edge of his bed. She eagerly stuck her ass out.   She looked over her shoulder; Erandur was unhurriedly stripping from his humble robe. Underneath, his figure was typical of a Dunmer male; strong, but not burly, the muscles were weaved tightly, he hadn’t the slightest hint of excess fat. As with all Dunmer, he was bound to possess wiry strength. Just like all elves, he was hairless from neck down, but the vital spot of her interested was still hidden from her sight.   He approached her with the cord that served to fasten his robe in his hand. He gently held her by the neck, pressing her head down, so she wouldn’t peek. He pulled her shorts down, exposing the gray rear and small pussy with the dark blue lips swollen from excitement. Oh, getting punished by a righteous priest, now that was something she never had!   The rope swished in the air and hit her ass, conjuring a surprised gasp. He didn’t use much force, but knew how to move his wrist to give the rope enough momentum. His grip on her neck increased, he pressed her firmly to the furs covering the bed, she could tell they were new as she could smell faint musk. Her ass-cheeks were squeezed firmly the whole time he kept patiently lashing her. Neither uttered a single word, only her muffled moans spoiled the silence. Her ass burned, but she felt like a punished teen. And her itch was soon dulled by the wetness that filled her pussy.   Erandur finally had enough of the whipping. He coiled the rope and put it on the nightstand, he was still a true pedant. Jenassa hadn’t dared move, wanting to see what will he come up with next. Her mouth was watery, as well as her pussy, some juices leaked, staining her rolled down shorts. He observed the clear dews in the dim candlelight, then slid his fingers up her slit. His still clothed groin pressed to her behind and he rested on her, painfully forcing on the bed. She groaned, he took opportunity and slipped his wet fingers in her mouth. The amazon licked them clean, feeling he was struggling out of his loincloth.   Soon, his bare skin grinded against hers, she could feel his erection hitting against her vulva. She wanted to look at him, but he pulled her by the hair, forcing to bend her head backwards. He bit her ear, firmly holding by her dark mane. He pulled his fingers out of her mouth and immediately reached between her thighs, finding her clit. He pinched and rolled with his wet fingertips, her throat tightened, a short wail escaped her mouth. Erandur gently, but still firmly, tilted her head, then brutally filled her mouth with his lips. Relaxing his mouth, he steadily salivated into hers. Jenassa swallowed everything, some of her war paint rubbed into his thick beard.   He released her hair and switched to tease her nipples. His face was tranquil, but his eyes burned like coals, despite the natural red burning all Dark Elves had. Suddenly, he pulled himself away and sat on the bed, the head of his gray cock pointed proudly at the ceiling. She didn’t need a word of encouragement.   She reached for the long, thin shaft. Erandur was faithful to the old Dunmer tradition of circumcision, dating back to the primitive Ashlander tribes. He had no foreskin, his javelin was completely uncovered. The shaft turned from gray to dark blue where the glans began, the sleek head was slightly purple. She teased, relying to gentle kisses on the warm rod, he didn’t rush.   Taking him whole proved no challenge for Jenassa’s trained mouth. She cuddled his sack, working his cock to the very base. She drooled excessively, wetting his groin and thighs. She struggled and kicked her shorts off; her behind had time to dry, but was still itching from the whipping. Her pussy dripped, she didn’t want to waste time on foreplay.   Gripping the base almost painfully, she gave the cap one last sloppy lick. She stood up and turned around, Erandur immediately guessed her intentions. He grabbed her by one cheek and seized his member as the sellsword slowly sat down on the tip. He entered smoothly, with a squishy sound. With Jenassa resting on his laps, he bent back and held her under the thighs. Her head rested on his shoulder as he tossed her up, only to jab with deep thrusts.   She rolled her shirt up, her joyfully perky tits bounced with the priest’s every move. Her throat was pained from keeping in all the sounds she wanted to release, she couldn’t fight them anymore. She wailed, arching her back, her hips jerked, so that he could fuck her even deeper. This priest wasn’t that useless!   “Oh, damn it, fuck me, priest! Fuck me!” She cried out with strain.   “Careful what you wish for, sera…” his voice was a hoarse purr. He hadn’t realized how much he longed to feel a woman from the inside. “You just might get it. Now if you could turn over, I want to see your face.”   She groaned fiercely when she sat on his laps up front this time. Her ass drew circles on his pelvis, trying out different angles. Erandur observed her in awe, he missed hearing such sounds and smelling the scent a Dunmer woman’s sweat. He didn’t expect this cynical mercenary to be so loud and devoted in bed. He intended to uncover more secret talents she might be hiding. With Mara’s aid, of course.   When she came loudly and dramatically, he could swear he saw tears in the corners of her otherwise cold eyes. She numbly rested on top of him, before abruptly getting off and reaching for a cold drink.   “Priest?” She asked, resting her back against the wall.   “Yes?” He asked with eyes closed.   “Want a piece of sincere advice?”   “Of course.” He smiled gently.   “Don’t lock yourself in some temple. Do your work in the field.” She said in all seriousness.   “I will consider your words.” He replied graciously. “Would you kindly share that drink with me?”   “Get your own.” She grunted.   “Mark my words, you’ll want me to heal you tomorrow…”   “Like I’d let that damned dragon get me!” Jenassa laughed carefree.   ---   “I was hoping to have some quality time tonight, you know? A conversation, at least.” Erik nagged, staring at the ceiling.   “Then talk.” Aza muttered, laying flat on her bed with her face buried in the pillow.   “You okay?” He asked, scratching himself on the chest.   “Of course I’m not.” Her voice was trembling.   “Scared?”   “And you’re not?” She asked, raising her head, her eyelids seemed heavy, she looked overall tired.   “I try not to think of it. But I worry about you.” He said, rolling to his side. There were about two long steps between their beds.   “Then don’t.” The Redguard rolled her eyes.   “Is there something you need?”   For a moment she wanted to say ‘yeah, shut up’, but decided to be honest.   “Peace and quiet, Erik. That’s all I want after this is done. No songs, no fame, no statues erected in my honor. I just want to… do business as usual. Fight a bandit or two, kill a beast threatening a small village, maybe raid a forgotten ruin… That’s all.”   “Sounds good.”   “Oblivion, too bad we have to get up so early in the morning. I’d get a bottle to help me sleep better.”   “You know, I’m right here. I could help you with that.” He offered, rising on his arm.   “You want to take advantage of my moment of weakness… Aw, who am I kidding? I need you.”   She was in his bed in mere seconds. They spooned. The bed had a simple wooden frame with hay and furs pulled over them. It squeaked annoyingly with every move.   “You’ll be careful, right?” He asked.   “Please, I’m a professional! You be careful.” She didn’t try to hide concern.   “Cross my heart.” He promised cheerfully.   “You’re such a village idiot… Don’t ever change.”   It was no surprise his hand wandered from her hip to her breasts, cupping and massaging them unhurriedly, enjoying their weight and warmth. Her ass pressed against his groin, feeling a slowly growing erection. Erik breathed heavily into her ear, his hand reaching down her abdomen. He rolled her linen nightshirt up. There was a scar between her navel and womb, she sighed when he touched it.    “You know, I never asked how you got that one.” He asked intrigued, she ignored most of her battle mementos, this one seemed different.   “My daughter. She was too big to get out the traditional way, she’d wreck my insides. There was a healer tagging along with our caravan. He sliced my belly open and got her out, saving both our lives.” She muttered as he kept stroking the long-healed slash.   Right, it was easy to forget she once gave birth to a new life. That her flat, hard belly was once swollen with child. Her breasts heavy with milk, her nipples thicker and darker than normal. Gods, that thought was arousing! He touched the base of her clit, enjoying her squirming when he tapped it gently.   “Ask me nicely.”   “Erik…”   “Come on, you could do me the courtesy.”   “Do me hard, to the limits.” She gave in, her hips moved back and forth.   Foreplay was short, neither had the patience to build up atmosphere. When she was wet enough, she reached behind and undid his pants, directing his tip at her opening. Erik lifted her thigh up and was in with one quick thrust. Aza cried a curse, relaxing as much as possible, letting him stuff her whole. After the initial stretching and adjusting, she squeezed him as firmly as she could, he welcomed her effort with a grunt. The bed creaked franticly, the whole frame seemed to move a few inches from the wall.   “Come inside me, okay?” She pleaded, as he marked her neck and shoulder with his teeth. “I want it as a good luck charm.”   When he came, he felt as if everything went dark for a moment. Rubbing her clit, he made her climax almost immediately after, her womb took in what it could of his intense load.   “Come on, let go.” He muttered after a moment of blissful relaxation.   “Stay inside, I want to fall asleep like this.” She yawned, feeling his cum leak onto her thighs and the bed.   Judging from how much he came, luck was bound to be on their side.   ---   “Hey, wake up! It’s our big day!” Erik shook her shoulder.   “Please don’t tell me I got piss drunk and proposed to you or something…” Aza mumbled, struggling out of the blanket. Her thighs were crusty.   “Dragon, remember?” He reminded, putting on his armor in a hurry. His hair was pulled back and tied; he didn’t want it to get in the way.   “Screw the dragon. Run away with me.” She suggested jokingly. Or maybe not?   “Who’s the baby now?” He asked rhetorically, handing her a wet cloth to wipe. “Come on heroine, time to kick fate in the balls.”   “Fate…” she said that word as if it were a particular slur, “that cunt. Okay, I’m up. Let me show you how a legend is born! Unless the fucking lizard bites my head off.”   ---   The Jarl was true to his word. He was present at the Great Porch along with Irileth, a few guardsmen and Farengar, the court wizard.   “So, you got a plan, yeah?” Balgruuf asked, weighting his sword in his hand. Part of him was actually looking forward to battling a dragon. But the dominant part feared for the safety of Whiterun.   The Dragonborn gave him the most alarming smile. Her eyes were wide with fear. She stepped forward and took a deep breath. Her mouth went completely dry, but this was no time to act like a virgin before her first gang bang. The amazon and priest were readied on their positions; he was on the lower level, she was on one of the side balconies. Erik was nearby, his axe ready for action. Aza spat over the balustrade and focused. Now! Do it now!   “OD AH VIING!” She Shouted. Her cheeks tingled, the anxiety that came with waiting was over, it was time to fight not flight.   But there was no answer. The sky was clear, not a cloud in sight. As much as one tried, there was no dark silhouette inbound. She tried again. Then again, until her throat burned. The dragon hadn’t come.   The guardsmen seemed to relax, the court wizard was visibly disappointed. The Jarl was puzzled. It was impossible that the woman was a fraud. And yet, nothing was happening.   Erik didn’t want to let doubt slip into his mind, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe the Bladesmaster played a cruel trick on them and gave them a false dragon name?   “You know, I used to be an adventurer like you…” One of the guards leaned towards him casually, his face was obstructed by his full helmet.   “Really?” Erik said, paying him little mind, still watching the sky.   “Yes, but then I…”   A blur of red and black suddenly soared from behind the palace, nose-dived and carried off with the unfortunate guard. A scream and gruesome, inhumane roar followed.   “Shor’s bones! That’s him!” Irileth yelled, a ball of thunder appeared in her palm.   “Steady! Steady, now! Keep under cover until it’s down!” The Jarl kept his cool, maintaining safe distance from the edge of the porch.   The dragon encircled the palace, the crushed body of the unnamed guard hit the roof and rolled down, falling onto the stone floor of the Great Porch.   “Dovahkiin! Here I am!” The ancient called, his wings conjured winds that could break a young tree like a twig.   “Fire!!!” The heroine shrieked.   “Too easy! Give me a tough one!” Jenassa’s arrow hit Odahviing just below the chest, where his scales were pale and soft. He inhaled, which could only mean one thing.   “YOL TOOR SHUL!”   Few of the closest guards and the Jarl himself would be ash in seconds if it weren’t for Erandur. The priest conjured a protective wall that deflected the flames.   “Do whatever it is you’re going to do!” The elf called out, maintaining the magical barrier.   “JOOR ZAH FRUL!” Aza seized opportunity, she felt her ribs closing in on her lungs, an unpleasant salty taste formed in her mouth.   The Shout struck Odahviing, his wings felt feeble as a fledgling’s. He fell heavily, unable to get back up in the air, shaking the entire castle as he hit the stone.   “Faaz! Nah!” He roared in anger and surprise. A mortal pinned him to the ground! What an affront!   “Attack!” The Jarl ordered.   Erik could finally make himself useful. He struck under the dovah’s right wing, his axe slashed the metallic scales, a fountain of almost black blood gushed from underneath.   “Look at me, you fucker!” Aza screamed in rage when the dragon turned its long neck to strike at the attacker. She had to keep him engaged. “It’s me you want!”   Odahviing focused his reptilian eyes on her. His maw opened, a foul smell spoiled the air.   “You are arrogant, Dovahkiin! Like all mortals!”   “JOOR!” She could only use the first word of the Shout dragons hated so much, her Voice couldn’t handle more. But it was enough to make him gasp, he choked on her Thu’um.   “Then put me in my place, if you can!”   She kept luring him to the trap, dodging and taunting as the others progressively weakened him. But it wasn’t without sacrifices; one of the guards, a hulkish woman, was stomped by his rear legs, her head was squashed like a gourd. A wide swipe with his tail set few other guards flying in all directions.   Irileth, blindly loyal to her Jarl, covered him from the dragon’s tail. The massive thing hit her instead, setting flying to the wall. She fell down unconscious, her blade clanked on the stones. Balgruuf cried a curse unfit for noble, but very adequate for an angered Nord.   “Farengar!” He roared, landing a quick slash on the red monster’s hind leg. “Get her out of here!”   The dragon was almost there, his path was marked by blood and scales. He was just under the huge harness. The Dragonborn danced her war dance, sweat was pouring down her face. Just a few more meters.   “Now!” She screamed when Odahviing was right where she wanted him.   Jenassa struck him just below the jaw, allowing Farengar and semi-conscious Irileth to retreat. She jumped off the balcony, rolling on the floor. With a kick she released her half of the trap. But only one corner of the gigantic harness lowered, the other was unattended. The guard that was supposed to operate it was dead, but there was no blood. It was hard to determine at this point what ended his life; the dragon, a stray arrow or spell? A heart attack, perhaps? It didn’t matter now.   Jenassa was out of arrows anyway. She acted on impulse, ignoring reason. She dashed, rolled, then picked herself up and sprinted to the opposite side of the room. She leaped towards the second trigger mechanism and pulled sharply. Just as she yelled in triumph, Odahviing noticed her. He turned his long neck to her and caught the elf between his massive jaws. The trap fell on his shoulders the exact moment he crushed the amazon between his teeth. Her scream mixed with cries of victory. The dragon shook his head, now realizing he was immobilized. Infuriated, he swung his head one more time, releasing the Dunmer. She flew a few yards and hit one of the pillars, leaving a red mark on the ornamented stone.   Erandur was with her in mere seconds. He slung his arm around her back and rested her on his laps. He immediately realized there was nothing he could do, the damage was too severe.   “Liars, all of you…!” She mumbled spitefully. In all the red that covered her face, her eyes were barely distinguishable.   “Don’t speak.” He said, but he could do nothing. Her elven armor was bend inward, even if he’d manage to heal her, the armor would crush her regenerated ribs and organs. Her back was broken as well; her pelvis was unnaturally twisted.   “You priests…!” She cried, but it was anger, not despair. “You, you…!”   “Sera, please…”   In the background there was a metallic sound and a groan; the dragon must have been hit by something large and metal.   “You’re all just talk…” with her remaining strength and only unbroken arm, she grabbed his hood and pulled back. Her hand clutched his long, dark hair. She insisted she comb it herself this morning. “You say that in the end you see a bright light. Well, I don’t see any!” Her voice was almost a howl. “You want to know what I see?! I… I see…” She frowned, then relaxed, her lips slightly parted.   But she didn’t say anything. She died.   Erandur gently pulled her closer. He said something quietly, something that could only be an apology when it’s too late.   Meanwhile, Odahviing was struggling, but the wooden harness and great chains were too strong. Even if he were in his full strength, he wouldn’t break loose.   Aza got up from the floor, she fell over the moment he was caught in the trap. She saw everything, being the only one who was directly in front of the beast. She never thought the cold, cool mercenary could scream like that. Like all who die suddenly and violently.   “You went through a great deal of trouble to put me in this…” Odahviing taunted.   The dragon’s words were rudely interrupted; Aza she grabbed a nearby tall iron candleholder and hit him over the maw. The dovah groaned. She hit him again. She’d reduce his head to a bloody pulp, but the candleholder broke.   “You just cost me a very good life.” She said, hate was seething through her teeth.   “Hind siiv Alduin?” The beast was undisturbed, Jenassa’s blood was all over his jaws like gruesome war paint.   She kicked him straight in the front of that proud maw. All other present maintained their distance. This was between the dragon and the Dragonborn.   “I don’t speak your tongue. But we both know what I want. Where in is he?”   “Alduin bovul” he replied mysteriously. “The reason I came to your call was to test your Thu’um for myself.”   “There’s more where that came from!” She promised, fighting the urge to sink both her swords in his eyes.   “Many of us have come to question Alduin’s lordship, whether his Thu’um was truly the strongest. But none of us were ready to openly defy him.”   “I don’t give a fuck” she was at her very end of her wits. “Where is he?”   “Unslaad krosis. I digress. He is in Sovngarde now, regaining his strength. The souls of the mortal dead, sillesejaar, nurse him… He guards this privilege jealously.”   “What?!” She clenched her teeth painfully. Was this all for nothing?!   “The portal to Sovngarde lies in Skuldafn, high in the eastern mountains… I do not need to warn you of the dangers there. And how little time you have left.” He laid his head. “Now that I have answered your questions…”   “You’re going to lay here until I decide what to do with you.” Aza interrupted, wiping sweat from her brow. “Get your hands off my dragon!” She yelled at the court wizard, who got dangerously close to the dovah. Farengar immediately retreated.   “Sovngarde?” Erik looked at her helplessly. “So, what now? We do something heroic and then kill ourselves? Aw, shit…” he noticed too late how inappropriate his words were for this moment.   The two approached Erandur in silence. The elf was motionless.   “There was nothing…”   “You are above such excuses.” Aza said quietly, kneeling next to him. He was still clutching Jenassa’s body. “I need you, Erandur.” She quickly glanced on Jen’s face. This was unfair. But so typical.   “I am at your disposal.”   “I need you to heal him.” She said without sugarcoating, pointing at the captive.   “What??” Erik butted into the conversation. “What for?!”   “You heard him. There is a portal to Sovngarde and we’re running out of time. He’s going to fly me there.”   “Us.” Erik was viciously loyal. “I’m going with you even if it kills-” he coughed before he said too much again. “I got your back.”   The priest gently laid the mercenary, then approached Odahviing. The dragon’s wings were cut, his sides were bleeding badly. Mara’s emissary had no idea how much Magica would it take to heal such a beast. But he proceeded to mend him nonetheless. He was done after less than an hour, barely able to stand from the exhausting task. In the meantime, all wounded were taken to the Temple of Kynareth. The heroine insisted he do the same.   “I can still help you!” He tried to protest, but it was obvious he was on the verge of passing out.   “Yes, by getting some rest and helping the priests in the temple. I doubt that with all the soldiers wounded in fighting the damned war they have any hands to spare. Go.” She gently motioned him to the exit.   “I’m sorry, my friends.” He said remorsefully. “I wish you luck.”   The only other person remaining at the site of the battle was the Jarl.   “My sympathies.” He said.   “Bitch owed me money.” Aza laughed, but it was by no means joyful laughter.   “What will you do with… him?” Balgruuf asked cautiously. He would feel at ease the moment the dragon is away from his city and his people.   “We’re going to tide on his back, so that you Nords will have something to sing about.”   “To the World-Eater’s temple?”   “And from there straight to your Norse underworld.” She said, not believing her own words.   “Crazy.” The Jarl nodded. “Let me have my wizard prepare potions and healing scrolls for you. It’s the least I can do.”   The supplies were delivered shortly. Aza, with Erik behind, approached the dragon.   “Ah, you flatter me with your presence.” Odahviing said graciously, his wings could move again but he was still their captive.   The Dragonborn stepped forward, the dragon’s maw was almost touching her abdomen.   “You’re my mount, lizard.”   “It will be an amusing experience.” The beast seemed to smile predatory. “But I will only fly you, as my equal.”   “Both of us. Me and handsome over here.” She demanded. “Otherwise, no deal.”   “It is wise to know when you only have one choice. Very well. And Alduin has proven himself unfit of rule. I go my own way now.”   “After you do what I tell you.” The Redguard reminded.   “Free me.” He said straightforwardly. “And I will fly you to Skuldafn.”   The heroes, with the help of freshly arrived guardsmen, raised the trap. Odahviing headed towards the edge of the porch. He stretched his healed wings, then laid them flat. They mounted him, holding on to the spiky scales on his back.   “See the world as only a dovah can!” He said, taking off.   The two mortals clinging to his back screamed like children.   ---   Odahviing landed, conjuring a small quake. The two heroes jumped off him with relief.   “That was fun, let’s never do it again.” Erik said, once the world stopped spinning. His hair was loose and disheveled.   “This is as far as I will take you. I shall await your return… or Alduin’s.” With that, the dovah was gone.   “Okay, let’s… Where’s your axe?” Aza asked, not seeing the familiar handle over his shoulder.   “Damn it, I must have lost it when I was busy holding on!” Erik cried. Without his weapon he felt naked, defenseless. He might as well lie flat and wait to die.   “There’s a new one charging straight at you! Think fast!” The Redguard said, pointing at an ancient draugr running towards them with an ebony axe ready to cut them in half.   “Got it!” He said, getting ready.   “FUS RO DAH!” She shouted, pushing the undead back with her Voice.   Erik ran to him, pulled the weapon from his mummified hands and separated his head from his shoulders the next second. Ebony was a volcanic glass, not metal. The axe wasn’t like his old one, but was lighter… and sharper. He instantly forgot his loss.   “I’m all set!”   “Good, now…” a dragon soared above them. The commotion caught the attention of other draugr as well. “Into the keep!” She ushered, pointing at the ancient stone building nearby.   There was no time for fighting or collecting spoils. They focused on surviving and reaching the portal. They battled what seemed an endless tide of undead, escaping dragons as well. Tearing through the massive ruin, they eventually reached the portal guarded by what could only be one of the ancient Dragon Priests. Taking turns in attacking, dodging and drinking potions, they managed to reduce him to a pile of ash. His staff was a key that unlocked the portal.   “Hurry up and jam it in!” She hurried, in all the fighting she lost a pauldron, scrapes and ash of the undead were all over her, her nose was bleeding bad.   Erik ignored the pun and did what he was told, pushing the staff deep in the dragon seal. A beam of light shot into the sky and the portal was open. The wormhole it led to sounded like a thundering waterfall. On the other side was Sovngarde. And Alduin.   “This is it.” He said, staring into the abyss.   “Yeah.” Her voice ringed hollow.   “No speeches?”   “No. We’re both getting out of this alive. Now give me a quick kiss, fool.”   His mouth was almost completely dry, hers tasted like blood.   “Time to end this once and for all!” She yelled, grabbing his hand and taking a long step forward.

Chapter 11 - Picking Up the Pace

  Her throat was sore from Shouting and screaming. The skies remained indifferent. What was she thinking? Did she hope that if she ignores the problem it would simply go away? How could she be such an idiot?! Such a… a pathetic coward! There was a huge black dragon out there, that wanted to devour the world. Her world, the one she liked and enjoyed. The world that was home to her daughter, who was just entering her teen years. The world that, though sometimes so messed up, cruel and unfair, was worthy of saving. She didn’t want to do it. She was the least suitable person for the task. But she had to, fate made itself clear. And the sooner she gets it over with, the sooner she can have her life back.   She got off the pile of rocks with the dragon’s skeleton underneath, pulling the axe out of its skull while she was at it.   “Congrats Erik!” She said with a mad grin, as she gave him his weapon back. “You’re going to assist the fabled Dragonborn with saving the world from Alduin World-Eater! Are you happy now?”   “Um… I guess.” He replied dumbfounded. Though what he just witnessed was hard to believe, he didn’t dwell upon it. A dragon attacked. She killed it, then she ate its soul. And now she decided to finally step up to the task the Divines entrusted her with. And he had no intention of letting her do it alone. Simple enough.   “Great. Come on, we’re picking up where I left. We need to get to the College of Winterhold anyway, and find out what they know about the Elder Scrolls. I’ll brief you along the way.”   ---   She told him everything. From when she escaped Helgen with one of the prisoners and how they got to Riverwood, to meeting the leader of the Greybeards on top of the Throat of the World. Finally, she told him how she chickened out and wandered aimlessly around the province, eventually travelling to Rorikstead.   It sounded crazy, like a madman’s rambling. Alduin wasn’t defeated, but pushed forward in time? And they had to obtain an Elder Scroll to somehow go back in time and learn a Shout that could knock a dragon from the sky, because there was no other way of defeating him? The leader of the Greybeards was a dragon himself? This was insane! But he believed her, doubt never crossed his mind. Perhaps, he was still naive and childish. Or maybe he just knew, that when someone tells you something as unbelievable as this, it must be true. Especially, if that someone is a person you know and trust.   After few days of hiking through the freezing terrain, they approached the crumbling bridge that led to the College. It was guarded by a High Elf. When Aza demonstrated her favorite Unrelenting Shout, the College representative let them enter without a word of protest. The College was filled with arcane secrets and Magica and made them quite uneasy.   Their best bet was the library. The librarian was an old Orc who, though spoke civilized and elaborate, had no sense of humor and treated his work with grave devotion. After a bit of convincing, he agreed to help them. First, he explained the nature of the Elder Scrolls, which made their heads spin. Then, he allowed them to read two specific tomes devoted to the Scrolls. Erik passed the opportunity. Scholar books were not his field of interest. Even if he were imprisoned in a dark cellar with those two tomes, he’d sooner use them to wipe his arse than read them.   After a few hours of reading, Aza learned about a mad scholar hiding out somewhere in a glacial cave to the north. The scholar was supposedly an expert on the Scrolls, they had to find him. With a deep sigh, they left the College and rented a boat to search the icy coast. She instantly felt the cold paying its toll on her. Erik soon followed; though he was a pureblooded Nord, he couldn’t feel his joints. It took them long hours and a litany of curses before finally locating the scholar’s outpost.   Septimus Signus was with no doubt a madman. Although the spark in his eyes was of a man who saw incredible things. The entire time he spoke, he was nervously glancing at the elaborate Dwemer mechanism behind him. Finally, he provided them with a blank Lexicon and an attunement sphere. He also told them where to look for the Scroll; first a dwarven ruin known as Alftand. From there, they should access a place he only referred to as ‘Blackreach’. Wherever and whatever Blackreach was, they were supposed to enter a construction he called the ‘Tower of Mzark’ somewhere in the vicinity. The Scroll should be kept safe there.   They left in haste, Alftand was in the nearby mountains. But first, they had to stock up on supplies in Winterhold as this was going to be a long and perilous journey.   Whilst they were preparing for the expedition, Erik was approached by a courier. The man was trembling from the cold and was relieved to finally deliver the package he was carrying. Whatever it was, it had no name on it. Only a symbol that vaguely resembled an eye.   “See that?” Aza said, tapping it with her finger. “Thieves Guild emblem.”   “What could they possibly want with me?” Erik wondered, giving the package an distrusting look.   “Not sure. Come on, you’ll open it once we get a room in the tavern.”   The package contained a note and a set of leather armor complete with boots and gloves. Erik read the message, with each word growing redder and redder.   “What? What’s it say?” She asked intrigued. Without a word he handed her the mysterious note. She eagerly began reading.   “Lad! I’m sure you played no small part in solving that little… problem I had. As I told the lass, I am in her debt (and that means something). But I thought I’d give you a little token of my gratitude; one of our armors to protect that stunning behind of yours. I think I got the size right. No hood included, I want to imagine that flaming hair of yours flowing carelessly in the wind. Best regards – B.” She folded the note with an unbelieving grin. That rascal! “Well now, it looks like uncle Brynjolf hasn’t forgotten about you! Try it on, your old armor is pretty worn out.” She urged, sitting at the table with their dinner. Tonight they were having her favorite: rabbit, ale and pears.   Reluctantly, Erik slipped into the new armor. It was surprisingly comfortable. Though thinner and less sturdy than his old armor, it fit perfectly. His moves weren’t constrained even the slightest bit. The leather was black, matte and soft. Although, it didn’t seem to be easily cut or pierced.   “It fits me like a glove!” He said, amazed how the armor seemed to shift with his every move. As he sat next to her, the leather seemed to stretch and shrink in the appropriate places, perfectly enveloping him. Though, he might just be imagining things. “But won’t this be a problem?” He asked concerned. All his life was spent on hard honest work, he didn’t want to be associated with the Guild.   “I don’t think so…” Aza judged, examining his new look. The set was based on the one higher members of the Guild wore, but there were some alterations that ruled out any connections to the organization. It was elegant, practical, protected what it should, and… looked damn good. “Nope, I doubt anyone will take you for a Guild member. Besides, your lack of lockpicking skills will soon give you away.”   “I don’t need lockpicks, I have an axe!” He said confidently. “Oh, I know that leer.” He noticed, bending back. The black leather silently morphed to support his back and protect his chest. He wasn’t sure was it some elaborate tailoring, or perhaps the material used to craft the set was something more than just leather.   “Yeah, but stay focused” she sighed. “We should get some sleep, we leave first thing in the morning. But I’ll be keeping a close eye on you…” She murmured, brushing his shoulder. Instantly, the material on his crotch expanded, making room for his developing erection. It shrunk almost immediately afterwards, they had a job to do.   ---   Alftand was a nightmare, filled with booby traps and lethal Dwemer automations. It took them two days to reach the mechanism, which after connecting the attunement sphere revealed spiral stairs that led further below, into Blackreach.   The cryptic place was nothing they had ever seen. It was a completely new world! At first, they thought it was a Dwemer city built in a huge cave, but that description didn’t do it justice. Whether natural or expanded by the dwarves, it was an incomprehensible dome with the ruins of an ancient metropolis underneath. Though there was no sky with the sun or moons, everything seemed to generate light on its own. The dome was marked with glowing blue and green veins. Every now and then there were mushrooms as tall as watchtowers and transparent crystals that released a subtle chime. The river that ran through the ruins was also radiant, though neither of them risked drinking from it. Blackreach was a place of alien, otherworldly beauty.   But they weren’t alone. Aside from deadly automations that still functioned, even though so many centuries had passed, Blackreach was also home to the filthy Falmer and rabid insect-like creatures they herded. Erik and Aza had no chance of surviving if they took the direct approach. Therefore, although it took them much longer, they advanced cautiously, waiting still for hours until they could move to another relatively safe spot. They seldom talked, focusing on their surroundings. The armor Brynjolf provided was a true blessing; it muffled Erik’s steps and seemed to make his joints lighter and swifter.   After three more days of exploring, waiting, hiding and avoiding certain death, they reached the Tower of Mzark. The Elder Scroll was hidden somewhere within.   ---   “You take it.” She elbowed his side.   “No, you take it!” He refused, his voice raised a pitch.   “I don’t want to touch it.” She confessed, apprehensive.   “Me neither.”   They gawked at the Scroll resting in a capsule the ancient dwarves built into their elaborate puzzle. It took them several hours to finally crack it open with the aid of the blank Lexicon. The damned Deep Folk knew how to build puzzles and traps alike.   There it was, the ultimate source of knowledge and understanding. An artifact from outside time and space was within arm’s reach. But neither of them wanted it, neither of them felt worthy. She was a former caravan guard forced to roam the world. He was a farm boy who wanted a better life. The Scroll scared both of them shitless.   “Okay” Aza sighed, reaching for it. “Let’s just hope the whole place won’t come crashing down on our heads once I take it. One… two…”   Nothing dramatic happened when she took the Scroll, aside from a door opening, revealing a lift that conveniently led to the snowy mountain top.   “I never thought I’d be so happy to see mountains and snow.” She exclaimed, trembling and adjusting to the light.   “I missed the outside world!” Erik took a deep breath of fresh mountain air with delight.   “Let’s get going. The sooner we show this to Paarthurnax, the better I’ll feel.”   “What about the spoils?” He inquired, weighting a purse filled with precious gems they either found on fallen automations, in Dwemer containers, or inside rich geode veins scattered all across Blackreach.   “Horses.” She replied briefly, using some leather strips to tie the Scroll up in case it somehow unfolds and blinds or kills them.   “You once said horses were more trouble then they’re worth.” He recalled, avoiding looking at the artifact.   “Yes. They’re hard to hide, attract predators, can’t get to many places, and if one dies or gets injured, you’re left with too much than you can carry. But time is crucial and we travel light. Besides, what do we need all those rubies and diamonds for?”   ---   They headed south, making a brief stop in Whiterun Stables, which had the fleetest horses in all of Skyrim. Negotiating with the horse master didn’t take long. In exchange for a flawless diamond and two emeralds, he offered them a pair of mares, assuring that although they weren’t fierce warhorses or swift racehorses, the two were calm, durable and could go on for hours without rest. Just the perfect mounts they needed. Erik took the bay one, Aza got the paint. They set off to High Hrothgar.   “I’m surprised you can ride those!” She called.   “I can’t jump over obstacles, but I won’t fall off!” He assured, almost running over a wayward chicken.   ---   “So… I’ll just wait for you here?” He guessed, marveling at the walls of High Hrothgar. Their horses were left in Ivarstead, climbing the seven thousand steps was too risky for them.   “I don’t think you should follow me all the way to the top, but I’ll be damned if you didn’t earn the right to enter the monastery.” She assured, pushing the doors open.   Once inside, they were greeted by Arngeir, the only monk that could communicate with outsiders.   “Dragonborn, you return… with company.” He stated dispassionately. He didn’t move an inch, Erik wondered would dust fall of him if he’d blow some air on the top of his head.   “Master Arngeir, this is Erik the Slayer. Without him I wouldn’t be able to recover the Scroll.” Aza explained. “He’s a part of this. He stays.”   “I see… Erik the Slayer, welcome to High Hrothgar.” The Greybeard welcomed the young hero.   “I… Um…” He had no idea what to say. He almost forgot about that juvenile name he gave himself. The Slayer… No, that was who he became when he lost control, not who he really was.   “I really want to get this off my hands, so we’ll be on our way.” The Redguard sighed. The Scroll was an unpleasant burden to carry.   They left for the courtyard, whilst Arngeir remained in his place, still immovable. Once outside, they were met with two other monks, almost indistinguishable from one another.   “Master Wulfgar, Master Borri” she greeted them respectfully. The monks said nothing, but nodded in response. “Okay, this is where we part.” She said, as they approached a stone arch that led to the top of the mountain. “I’ll be back soon. I think.”   “Okay. Good luck.” He bid, feeling his heart sink. He wanted to go with her badly, but understood he needed to stay behind for this part.   “The view from that watchtower is unbelievable, you should go take a look.” She advised, facing the arch talking a deep breath. “LOK VAH KOOR!” She Shouted, dispelling the whirlwind that guarded the path.   ---   The view was breathtaking indeed. Erik could see a large part of the province with incredible clarity. He relaxed, feasting his eyes on his homeland. There was still a lot of it to explore. And when Skyrim seems too small… Well, there was a whole world to see!   The weather was worsening, dark clouds were approaching… unnaturally fast. The sound of thunder rang hollow throughout the monastery. Wait, that wasn’t thunder, it was a blood-curdling roar. A dragon was approaching! It flew over the tower, almost sweeping Erik off the icy floor. He yelled a curse and ran down the steps, back to the courtyard.   That dragon was bristling with black metallic scales, as sharp as tips of spears. It flew over the stone arch, its massive wings broke the wind spell securing the passage. The little hero followed without hesitation. That was no ordinary dragon. It was Him: Alduin.   The path was narrow, steep and dangerous. He pushed on forward with determination, though he knew he’d end up several feet below, if he’d make one wrong step. The sharp rocks and shards of ice underneath conjured a vision of him with his bones broken and insides spilling out, hoarfrost steadily setting on his lifeless eyeballs and gnashed teeth. He pushed those pointless thoughts away, focusing on the path up ahead. He heard another roar, followed by another dragon’s growl, then a Shout. He was getting close. He almost slipped on what he took for solid rock, but turned out to be ice. He paid it no mind. He was almost at the top.   ---   “Paarthurnax, draw him away from me!” Aza yelled, avoiding Alduin’s sharp horns. Damned bastard appeared out of nowhere, right after she read the cursed Scroll and had a vision that revealed the secret of the Dragonrend Shout, giving her a chance to immediately test it out.   “You are feeble, Dovahkiin!” Alduin’s voice tore the sky, though it sounded more like a call from under the ground. He was bleeding from a wide cut on his throat, but it was nothing for him. The almost rock-solid snow around him was melting form the blood and the very heat the monstrous dragon radiated.   “Bite me!” She taunted, dashing away from his wing, feeling his unnatural heat dangerously close.   “Arrogant mortals! Your pride will be…!”   Paarthurnax bit the black dragon’s neck, ending his tirade. The two ancients clashed, the mountain shook from summit to the very foot. Below, residents of Ivarstead and Riverwood came out of their homes, fearfully gazing into the darkening sky.   Alduin managed to free himself from the gray dragon’s bite. He suddenly felt the wretched feebleness pinning him to the ground pass. He flapped his leathery wings, rising up in the air. Paarthurnax scrapped his back with his claws, trying to wrestle him back down, but it was a futile attempt.   “FAAS!” The Redguard shouted straight at Alduin’s exposed underbelly. He hit the ground with toppling impact. His red eyes burned like coals on the very bottom of Oblivion.   “YOL…” An axe hitting his hind quarters disrupted his Shout. He groaned surprised by such arrogance. Who dared attack him?!   “About damned time!” Aza called out as Erik pulled his weapon out with difficulty. “MOVE!” Her voice turned into a scream when the black dragon turned his long, razor-like neck to grab him between his jaws.   Erik’s short adventuring career and life would end on the spot if it weren’t for Paarthurnax, who grabbed him in his maw and pulled away in the nick of time. Alduin crushed only ice and rock where the young hero stood just a second ago.   “Treacherous Paarthurnax!” Alduin grunted, whilst the grey dragon released the young hero at a safe distance. Spouting steam from his maw, he spread his nightmarish wings, completely obstructing the fading rays of the sun.   Seizing opportunity, Aza ran up to him and slid under his chest; her sword plunged where his heart should be. Alduin’s voice was like an avalanche. He sprung into the air with her blade jammed between his ribs, his wretched dark blood gushing from his chest. With his axe ready, Erik sprinted towards him in case the World-Eater tried to stomp his partner. But the black dovah had no such intention.   “Fools, I cannot be slain!” He roared maliciously, as he encircled the summit before taking off and fading into the horizon.   “Give me my sword back!” She called after him, hopelessly throwing bits of rock and ice. “Great! Now what? Where’s he off to?” She turned to the remaining ancient. The battle was over with no defined victor.   “One of his allies could tell us. But it will not be easy to convince him to betray Alduin.” The grey dragon said calmly, taking his usual resting place at the top of the Word Wall. His glance turned to the young Nord.   “Um… Hi.” Erik said, unsure what to do.   “It’s okay, he’s with me.” Aza vouched, scrapping red snow off her pauldrons. “Any ideas?”   “Perhaps the palace in Whiterun? It was built to host a captive dovah…” Paarthurnax suggested slowly, not used to mortal tongue.   “Great… The Jarl will wet his breeches.” The heroine predicted with a scowl. “Come on, Erik. Back to Whiterun.”   “And I hoped to get some sleep in a normal bed…” He sighed, shaking off some of Paarthurnax’s drool. The grey dragon might have saved his life, but his mouth smelled.   ---   After speaking to Jarl Balgruuf, they left Dragonsreach in particularly sour moods.   “He wants us to end the war?!” Erik couldn’t believe what he just heard. They weren’t miracle workers!   “Not end the war, dumbass. Just help achieve temporary truce, so no one attacks Whiterun while we…” Aza rubbed her temples, “…summon a dragon, then capture and interrogate it…” She swallowed loudly. She had no idea which part was more impossible to complete.   “So, off to High Hrothgar again?” Erik sighed, remembering what an exhausting toil climbing the seven thousand steps was.   “First, I got to get me a decent blade.” She said, patting the almost completely dulled iron sword she took from a highwayman foolish enough to stand in their way. “Come on, I know just the man.”   Eorlund Gray-Mane, the blacksmith of the Companions, was said to be the best in all of Skyrim. Although some, mostly other blacksmiths, attributed his success to the unique properties of the Skyforge.   “I see my dagger serves you well…” He welcomed without lifting his gaze from a piece of metal he was shaping. “And where’s the armor and sword I made you, hm?”   “Long story.” Aza said bluntly. “Me and my partner are off on a long and dangerous task, I need a good blade. A very good blade from the very best.”   “Sweet talking will get you nowhere.” Eorlund scoffed, putting the red-hot rod in water, conjuring a cloud of steam. “And what about him?” He asked, pointing at Erik, with the now cool piece of steel.   “I’m good.” Erik said calmly. He liked his axe, it had history.   “I have two swords. Glass, lassie. Are you interested?”   “Are you?” She asked, offering him the few gems they had left. Eorlund’s face was still perfectly still as he examined the gemstones. He fished out two rubies and several amethysts.   “I’ll have them ready today, late afternoon. Do you want armor with that? It will take another day, though.”   “No, we have little time to spare.” She declined with a sincere sigh. She missed her scantly armor, but the steel one still served her well. And time was a commodity.   “Alright. You, laddie!” He turned his stern face to Erik. “Give me one pretty gem and I’ll sharpen that axe, so that it will split a hair in half.”   “I could use that…” Erik agreed, giving the blacksmith his axe and a flawless garnet.   “Alright” Eorlund allowed himself to smile briefly, pleased with his payment. “Get out. Come back later, I have a lot of steel to shape.”   “Well, while he’s busy with our weapons, let’s go find an old friend of mine.” Aza suggested, as they passed a beautiful tree in front of the Temple of Kynareth. The pink petals, dangerously resembling feminine parts, danced in the wind. They were said to prolong one’s life, but the real thing probably worked better.   “Why?”   “Well… I’ve been thinking.” She halted, allowing two children to run pass them; a Nord boy and Redguard girl throwing pebbles at his back. “This is getting pretty serious, and with just the two of us… We’ll need support. I’m a dual wielder, you’re a heavy hitter. So, we could use an archer and a mage. Since dragons breathe fire, Dunmer are our best bet. I know two people perfect for the job. They both owe me a favor.”   “That makes sense.” He agreed. Though, four was a crowd and he liked it more… intimate.   “Okay” she put her hand on the knob to the Drunken Huntsman “She should be here.”   As they entered the shop, the irritated Bosmer proprietor told them that the Dark Elf mercenary had just left Whiterun after having a small ‘argument’ with him. His black eye said it all. They left the establishment in haste, heading towards the city’s exit gate.   “Good old Jenassa, I knew she wouldn’t be that easy to locate!” Aza laughed, adjusting her new swords on her back. She instantly fell in love with them, they were elegant and as light as a feather. Despite the grumpy attitude, Eorlund was a true artist.   “So… should we find this woman?”   “One thing at a time. First, High Hrothgar, then Windhelm and finally Solitude.” The Redguard enumerated.   “A nice trip. Hope the horses make it.” Erik rubbed his chin.   “Better question – are we going to make it?” She laughed. “Know what? I don’t need this anymore.” She suddenly said, handing him her trusty dagger.   “What?” Erik was surprised. That thing was her lucky charm!   “I have two decent swords, you have that clunky axe. You need a small, quick sidearm. Take mine.”   “But… are you sure?”   “Just take it.” She insisted, looking away embarrassed by her own generosity. “Who knows when you might need it?”   ---   Arngeir understood the weight of the situation. Although the Greybeards had no interest in politics, he agreed to host a meeting in the monastery. The two heroes left the mountain in haste and set off on a straight course to Windhelm.   Reluctantly, Jarl Ulfric agreed to come to the meeting, possibly persuaded by the authority of his old masters who taught him the Voice. General Tullius was all that was left. They stocked up on supplies for their journey across the province. They still had some jewels left, but didn’t flaunt them. They needed funds for the upcoming task.   “Gods, I think I miss farming now…” Erik complained, slipping his sore feet into a cold stream.   Meanwhile, Aza was studying her old map of Skyrim. It was a messy sheet, filled with notes and symbols only she could decipher.   “Before we go to Solitude, there’s something I want to do.” She announced, peering into the map.   “Shouldn’t we focus on our mission?” He questioned   “First, fate won’t dictate my every move. Second, this business is related to our mission… sort of. When I was at the Bard’s College… What?” She asked seeing his incredulous look. “I have no talent for singing or instruments, believe me. But I recall the head of the College needed someone to retrieve the lost part of the Poetic Edda.”   “King Olaf’s verse?” Erik asked amazed. That one was his favorite.   “Yeah. It’s supposed to be here” she tapped a spot on the map. “Dead Men’s Respite. It does mention how to capture a dragon, so let’s treat this as a nice getaway from saving the world, what do you say?”   “I say, there’s a skeleton creeping up at you.” Erik replied calmly, reluctantly pulling his feet from the soothing stream.   “Necromancers.” Aza moaned annoyed, equipping her new swords. “Lovely.”   ---   Alas, before venturing into the ancient crypt, they visited another ancient ruin; Sky Haven Temple. Though the Dragonborn hadn’t been in touch with the Blades, she thought she should see what they were up to whilst she risked her life for the wellbeing of everyone and everything.   “Come again?” Aza’s eyelids didn’t even flinch.   “My Blade’s honor forbids me to aid you unless you take care of Paarthurnax. Yes, we know the leader of the Greybeards is a dragon.” Esbern replied sternly.   “Uh-oh… Leave him Delphine.” Aza warned, noticing how intently the other remaining member of the Blades was eying her partner. “I didn’t bring him to join your little club.”   “It’s us or them.” Esbern conditioned.   “Well… Thanks for your help and all, but I don’t think I’m who you expect me to be.” She scoffed with an insincere bow. “Come on, Erik. We’re wasting our time with these people.”   “Dragonborn, if you’re not with us, you’re…!” Delphine called out, but the heavy metal doors slamming behind them cut her appeal short.   “You’re not going to do it?” He inquired, cautiously.   “Of course not! After all we’ve been through, do you really think so little of me? I’m not a killer, I just want to get this over with, but not at all cost!” Aza was truly offended.   “Sorry, sorry.” Erik apologized, brushing his hair back, relieved to be out of the Akaviri temple. It made him uneasy. And those two people, who were still clinging to their long dead order? They seemed so out of place.   He suddenly recalled a seemingly unimportant memory. It was about a month before he met the Redguard wretch. He was working the field with Lemkil, a bitter man who was their neighbor since forever. His arms were exhausted and his back felt as if it was going to snap.   “Erik! Erik!” One of Lemkil’s twin daughters called, climbing up the fence at the edge of the field.   “What is it, Sissel?” He asked, putting the rake away. He was tired, but he still had much to do.   “I had a dream that there was a good dragon. He was old and gray, but he wasn't scary.” The child said, smiling widely. Blush was blooming under her dirty cheeks.   “Uh-uh.” He noted, attempting to get back to work. He liked Sissel, though she could be more absent-minded than himself.   “I just had the feeling you should know.” She said, losing her initial cheer. She sensed Erik was the only one aside from Jouane that understood her. Well, there was also Mralki, but he was always so serious and busy.   “Sure thing.” He tried to smile, but the pain in his back was too overwhelming.   “Are you still planning to go adventuring?” She asked.   “Someday.” He replied with a heavy sigh.   “Can I come with you?” She inquired.   “And what would you do, Sissel? Poke people with a stick?” He joked. The pain lessened a bit, but he was sure he’s going to sleep flat on his back tonight. Well, he still had some of that troll fat salve stashed away, so he might as well give himself some comfort…   “I’m going to be a mage one day, you’ll see!” She yelled at him, clenching her tiny fist. Her sleeve rolled up, revealing bruises on her thin forearm.   “Sure you will. And I’ll chop people’s heads off with a big and gruesome axe just like that.” He snapped his dirty fingers.   “Sissel, go be useless somewhere else!” Her father scolded harshly.   The girl squeaked and ran towards the inn. Erik noticed that aside from slowly growing misery, she was also scared. Her father was a cold, cruel man, even towards his own daughters. He glanced at Lemkil but said nothing. At times like these he was thankful that his own father, though overprotective, was kind to him and those girls when Lemkil wasn’t looking.   “Hey, you alright?” Aza noticed his absent gaze.   “Yeah, I’m fine. Just remembered something.” He brushed her off.   “You know, we’ll be passing near Rorikstead, so if you want…”   “No, not yet.” He declined quietly. He missed home, but he was still happy to be ‘out there’.   ---   “Bards were supposed to do this!?” Erik gasped, shaking off pieces of bone and dust. He felt as if they battled an army of draugr. He wasn’t mistaken.   “Well, we got what we came for.” Aza patted the verse, safely stored in her satchel. “If we leave now, we should be in Solitude in no time.”   “I always wanted to go to Solitude.” Erik recalled, kicking the skull of treacherous King Olaf, still gloving an unsettling blue light out of the eyesockets.   ---   They arrived to the capital of Haafingar at the break of dawn.   “Wow…” He could only shutter, marveling at the beauty of Solitude. This was the most stunning city he had ever seen. So much space and people, so many goods and services. Solitude felt like the center of the world!   “Erik, pull yourself together!” Aza scolded, though she was laughing. “You want everyone to know you’re a provincial?”   “There’s so many people here, that I don’t think anyone would notice!” He said, amazed of the variety of people around him. He saw all races of Man and Mer mixing into a colorful current of pedestrians, merchants, guards and people of various backgrounds and professions.   “As much as I love seeing you with that awestruck look on your face, we have to get moving. Why don’t you take this” she handed him the satchel with the verse, “and go see Viarmo over at the College while I go butter up Tullius? I’ll join you later.”   “You sure?” He expressed his doubt, but took the satchel nonetheless.   “Remind me, who chopped Olaf’s legs off? Because it sure wasn’t me. If we have time to spare, I’ll take you on a night on the town. We earned some fun.” Aza promised.   “Cold booze, hot food and a real bed?” His face lit up at the very prospect of such luxuries.   “Anything you want.” She laughed, heading towards Castle Dour. “Anything…” She muttered to herself, growing more and more impatient. Things were picking up pace fast, and they still hadn’t done it!   ---   Convincing Tullius and his lapdog Rikke took more time than she anticipated, but in the end the Imperial captain agreed to come to the meeting. Aza left Castle Dour with a slowly brewing headache. She didn’t hate the Imperials, though their stiff laws and rules drove her mad. It was no wonder the hotheaded Nords rebelled. Besides, Hammerfell succeeded from the Empire a long time ago and it was doing perfectly fine.   Erik wasn’t at the College. One of the students pointed her to the Blue Palace, saying that Viarmo and ‘some young talented adventurer’ went there to read the lost verse to Jarl Elisif. Intrigued, she left the College and went straight to the Palace.   Once inside, she hid behind a column, whilst the High Elf headmaster was reading the verse to the Jarl and her court. Strangely, it wasn’t what she remembered it to be. She noticed Erik in the crowd and slowly motioned towards him.   “What in Oblivion is that rambling?” She whispered into his ear, as Viarmo tried to convince Elisif that Olaf didn’t actually capture the dragon Numinex, but was a dragon himself and could assume the form of a man.   “I improvised.” Erik replied with an idiotic grin. He was having a blast. “I think they like it.”   She looked around. Indeed, the members of the court seemed enthralled by Viarmo’s (or rather Erik’s) interpretation of the Poetic Edda. The Jarl was looking pleased herself. And considering the current political situation, the burning of a false king was very up-to-date.   “Thank you, Viarmo.” Elisif said graciously. “I am overjoyed that the lost… and true version of King Olaf’s Verse had been found and translated by the Bard’s College. Know that tonight we will once again celebrate the festival of Burning King Olaf.”   The crowd was overjoyed and so was the College’s headmaster. Erik was pleased as well, even if his part was omitted. Aza just wanted to get some rest. And some booty.   “There you are!” The High Elf called when he found them in the palace courtyard less than half an hour later. He walked up to Aza and nearly crushed her in a tight embrace. “Why were you hiding this treasure away from me? He’s a storytelling genius!” He let the heroine go and spun to hug Erik as well. “My friends! This is a wonderful day for all of us! The Jarl agreed to uphold the festival and even donated a large sum to the College.”   “Wonderful” Aza muttered, thinking about how that sum could be used in a more practical way than on idle pleasures. But she wasn’t the Jarl, so it wasn’t her problem. Honestly, she’d sooner chew on her own wrists than assume any seat of authority. It wasn’t worth the trouble… and the inevitable assassination attempts.   “Here, here!” The headmaster eagerly handed the young hero a large and heavy coinpurse. “This is your share, you definitely earned it, my silver-tongued friend. Tell me, would you like to stay at the College? I’m sure I could squeeze you into our time schedule.”   “Uh… Thanks, but no. I don’t think you’d find any more use of me.” Erik refused humbly. He wasn’t an artist and he preferred to listen than talk. Plus, he wouldn’t handle over the freedom of being an adventurer for anything, not even for all the silver in Markarth.   “Pity… But you two must come to the festival tonight, I insist! Now, please excuse me, I have so many things to arrange on such short notice!” Viarmo left them excited as a little girl. The College was back in business.   “All those books you’ve read had finally come to some god use, eh?” Aza crossed her arms with an amused smirk.   “Who would have thought, right?” Erik laughed, rubbing the back of his head. He wasn’t used to this much praise and attention. “Are we going to stay? I know we have more important things to do, but I always wanted to see the festival.”   “Sure, why not.” She agreed. “The meeting at High Hrothgar is going to take place in a week from now. And Erik” the look in her eyes suddenly sharpened, she approached him so close, that they almost clashed. “It’s going to be rough. We need to get the dumbass Imperialists and the brainless Stormcloaks to reach a consensus. I think fighting dragons is much easier than dealing with politics. And after that, we need to recruit two people to aid us in something as crazy as summoning and capturing a dragon. I’m going to be blunt, this is more than you bargained for…”   “I’m with you!” He assured with fire.   “… And this is our last week of relatively free time. So, I want us to use it to the fullest. Do you know what I mean?”   “You want us to train and focus?” He guessed.   “No, you clueless whelp!” She screamed, grabbing him by the shoulders and giving a good shake, paying no mind that some proper people might hear them. “We’ve been together for a few months now! Damn it, it’s time! Ask me!” Her good eye was burning, whilst she bit her lip, waiting for his response.   “I…” He couldn’t believe he was so oblivious. Chuckling embarrassed, he held her by the wrists, gently but solidly. “Aza… Would you spend the night with me before we save the world?”   “Yes” she agreed with relief. “I would.”   He let her wrists go, grabbing her hips instead. Her steel armor met with his leather. She tilted her head slightly to the side as he slid his tongue between her full lips. She moaned softly, her mouth hungered for his. After a longer moment they withdrew from one another. Come to think of it, what kept them from doing it right here, right now? No, this was too precious to squander.   “Tonight, after the Burning of King Olaf.” She said promiscuously. “You got some money, so prepare everything. I’ll be waiting after dark. And damn it, if I won’t get you tonight, I’ll burn this whole city to the ground!”   “I can’t wait…!” He shuttered out, his heart felt like a bird caught in a cage that was too small.   Tonight! It was finally going to happen tonight!

Chapter 14 - The Priest

“I want to go home…!” He whimpered.   “No one’s keeping you against your will.” Aza’s voice was as sweet as a sweetroll.   “I’ve…” Erik swallowed with difficulty. “I’ve given it much thought…”   “And…?” She kissed him on the forehead. Meanwhile, Jenassa was busy trying to get him hard… with little success.   “And I don’t want to be an adventurer anymore.” He gasped out, almost crying.   He was worn out. He felt as if he lost a few pounds, his tongue was sore from all the licking and his penis painfully grazed from the friction. His loins ached and he needed some sleep. But the two harlots had no intention of letting him rest. The pile of stamina potions they had at their disposal only made his situation direr. His heart was soon going to pop if they keep it up.   “Really?” Aza was politely amused. “What will you do with the rest of your life, then?”   “I’m…” he took a deep breath. “I’m going back to Rorikstead. I’ll plough the field and help at the inn without a word of protest. I’ll be a good son and I’ll bless every dull, bleak day filled with hard, honest work. I swear!”   Jenassa reached for another potion. She took a large chug then bowed her head with the revitalizing liquid in her mouth giving the young stud a nice deep-throat. His cock soon hardened, rejuvenated by the remedy.   “Stendarr’s mercy… no…” Erik was on the verge of breaking down.   Aza took the half-emptied bottle and took a mouthful herself. Her lips closed around his, she squirted the stamina potion into his mouth. He gagged, but as her tongue slid into his throat, he couldn’t spit any out.   “Just one more time…” She whispered into his ear when he obediently swallowed everything. “Promise!”   “I’m doomed!” A hysterical thought crossed his mind.   ---   “You know, we’ll be travelling together for a while. You could at least try to entertain me with an intelligent conversation.” Jenassa appeared on her mount to his left.   Erik said nothing, still angry at the two wretched women. They kept him on top of that hill for another day, before finally packing up and leaving the next morning. They violated him. It sounded ridiculous, but that was how he felt. He enjoyed himself, yes, but he felt… exploited. Deprived of his status as a person.   “Hey, quit the act.” Aza occupied his right, her mare stroked her head against his horse’s side. It was possible that the two equines were related.   “I hope I won’t have to offer my ass to the priest as well?” He scoffed, looking between his bay horse’s ears. The enigmatic priest they were supposed to recruit was in a ruin somewhere near Dawnstar. The only other thing he knew about him, was that he was also a Dark Elf.   “Unless it’s your thing, no.” The Hammerfell bitch had the talent of ignoring insults and complaints.   “Will you?” He glanced at her. The way he clenched his teeth pronounced his scar.   “No.” She said calmly. She knew they will soon have an unpleasant talk about fidelity and loyalty. But this wasn’t the time nor place. “Priests aren’t my thing anyway.”   “And Dunmer men tend to be so self-centered.” The mercenary added.   “Eyup.” Aza confirmed, her tone suggested she had experience with gray cocks as well.   “Would you two shut up?!” He lost his temper. “I don’t want to hear who and how used your twats!” With that, he trotted away on his mare.   “What’s up with him?” Jenassa was perplexed.   “I guess he’s jealous.” Aza shook her head.   “You bought this upon yourself, sera.”   “I know, I know.” She rolled her mismatched eyes.   “What are you going to do about it?”   “Why do you care? What’s next? Are we going to drink tea, share secrets and make matching friendship bracelets?” The Redguard grinded her teeth.   “I’m bored and it’s going to be a long journey.” Jenassa explained. “I need some juicy conversation.”   “Well, I can tell you a story about how I tried to jump the border between Cyrodiil and Skyrim…”   “Heard that one. I still don’t believe you met Ulfric Stormcloak.”   ---   They travelled north, following the Karth river, then took a sharp turn east around Karthwasten. As days passed, Erik seemed to loosen up a bit. Yet, he still wasn’t in the mood to act civil and was always the first one to hold watch. Their journey went relatively undisturbed, aside from the occasional animal.   “You know, there’s always another way” Aza joked, as she caught him sulking with the Skyforge steel dagger in his hand.   He said nothing, reaching for a stick and methodically sharpening it with the dagger. He then set it aside alongside the ones he already sharpened, and reached for a new one. Jenassa was out hunting, the sticks would come in handy for cooking their supper once she returns.   “Are you still moping? It’s been days, how long do you plan to keep this up?”   “Fuck you.” He burst out, sharply turning his face to her. “I hate you.”   “No, you don’t. And that’s the problem.” She calmly said, refusing to get provoked.   “Why? Why do you keep doing these things to me? Why do you keep pulling me in?”   “For fun, obviously. And to show you something new. And…” she hesitated. “… there are other reasons.”   “What reasons?!” He demanded to know. “And don’t give me that crap about caring for my own good!”   “Look. I’ll explain soon, I promise. But now is not the time. Okay?” She asked tiredly, knowing well the hothead is going to push.   “No, not okay! Stop treating me like a brat!” He demanded.   “I’m not treating you like a brat.” Her serenity was undisturbed. “But there’s no point in having this conversation right now. You’re pissed off and still need to gain some perspective. And… I don’t want you to misunderstand my intentions. Just stick around, enjoy yourself and trust me.”   “Ugh.”   “Trust me?” There were deep rows on her brow.   “Fine.” He surrendered. “Okay. I know that in your twisted little mind you’re doing what you think it’s best for me. I just wished you stopped surprising me with your bright ideas.”   “Ha! Where’s the fun in that?”   “Is there something going on?” Jenassa appeared out of nowhere with freshly hunted game: a pheasant, drake and quail. “Because if there is, I want in!”   Erik spat on the ground, giving her a sinister look.   “Not going to happen, sorry.” Aza tried to smile. “You’re going to have to entertain yourself alone.”   “Maybe I will” the amazon shrugged her shoulders. “That priest of yours, what Divine does he worship?”   “Mara.”   “Just my luck” the elf sighed disappointed.   ---   Dawnstar was as bleak and cold as Erik remembered from their first visit. The three entered the inn, hoping to hear some local rumors that could set them on the right track.   “Well, what do you expect us to do, then?!” The innkeeper raised his voice at the person sitting at the counter. The hooded figure didn’t move an inch, soaking in the bitterness from the man’s voice.   “I ask that you give me time.” He replied. His voice was of a Dunmer, though it lacked the typical cold, unpleasant tone so characteristic for Dark Elves.   “I hear they kidnapped a girl! Been keeping her there for almost a week, doing Gods only know what to her!” The innkeeper clenched his fists, there was helplessness in his eyes.   “I… know.” The elf bowed his cloaked head.   He felt a pat on the shoulder. Apprehensively, he turned to meet with a familiar face; the Redguard adventurer, who once helped him free Dawnstar from nightmares plaguing the residents.   “Erandur!” She greeted energetically. “I think I’ll start believing in divine intervention. I wanted to see you and here you are.”   “Sera.” He shook the woman’s hand; she had a powerful grip. “Good to see you in one piece.”   “Innkeep, we need decent grub and drink” she ordered, pointing at the table in the back, where a young Nord and Dunmer woman made themselves comfortable. “Come on, I think whatever’s eating you has something to do with the reason we’re here.”   After brief introductions, Aza explained to the priest the reason her party came to Dawnstar. The entire time she talked, the elf paid attention, but didn’t interrupt, only nodded every once in a while to show he was listening.   “I believe you” he said when she was finished with her tale. “Of course, this is a noble mission and I would gladly join you. But…” he paused. “I can’t leave now.” He bowed his head, his monk hood almost completely obstructed his face in shadow.   “And this is your part of the story. What’s happening?” Aza encouraged him.   “The cult of Vaermina.” He revealed gravely. “A large coven recently came to Dawnstar in place of the old one. They’re preparing for something. Something big. Tomorrow, there is a date they hold in reverence. They will perform a foul ritual in service to the Daedra.”   “Ah, cultist slaying!” Jenassa laughed, chugging her ale. “My sort of work!”   The priest glanced at her for a short moment, she gave him a daring look in return. He didn’t allow himself to be provoked by the mercenary, he was beyond such pettiness.   “I think that’s why they kidnapped a citizen of Whiterun. They’re preparing.” He foretold grimly. His voice finally had a proper grim Dunmer tone.   “And how would you know that?” Erik chimed in with an astute, but inconvenient question. Aza kicked him under the table.   “I… served Vaermina.” The priest confessed. “Before I saw the light of Mara.”   “You don’t have to explain yourself!” The scarred adventurer declared before the conversation got ugly. “Consider it done. Tomorrow, after it gets dark, we march on the cultists!”   “Thank you, my friend.” Erandur exhaled deeply. It was good to know he wasn’t alone.   ---   The next day they prepared for their assault on Nightcaller Temple. It was snowing since morning, one could see for about two meters forward before their vision blurred.   “Tell me, what does today’s date signify for the cultists?” Aza wanted to know, adjusting her gauntlets.   “As you know, Vaermina is the Prince of Nightmares. Also…” the humble priest put his hands together. “Lewd dreams.”   “Sounds fun.” Jenassa teased. For some reason, she decided to taunt the priest in whichever way possible. So far, Erandur remained indifferent.   “What will they do to their hostage?” Erik asked concerned.   “If we hurry, she should be fine. They need a virgin or this ritual.”   The amazon was about to make a comment, but Aza elbowed her in the shoulder as a warning. She could not afford her allies to be at each other’s throats.   “As I was saying…” Erandur continued, inspecting his elven mace; the weapon’s surface was severely scraped. “They will prepare a ritual with hallucinogenic brew. They will all drink and sing in reverence to the Daedra. Precisely at midnight, they will proceed to the main part of the ceremony. The ritual defloration of the sleeping virgin.”   “She’s going to be asleep?” The young Nord was confused. Then again, maybe it was for the best she is unaware.   “Yes.” The Dunmer priest confirmed. “They will infuse her with the brew. Then, the High Priest will proceed to fornicate with her. During the act, she will be in direct contact with the Daedra in her dreams. Afterwards, she will serve as a conduit of Vaermina. Still asleep, she will allow them to communicate with her. Until she eventually expires, as they will regularly and exclusively serve her the brew to maintain the connection.”   “Not much violent” Aza cracked her knuckles. “But still morbid.”   “Indeed” the priest agreed sadly. He once participated in such foul rituals as an acolyte of Vaermina.   “The plan?” Jenassa stretched.   “We enter in pairs of two. One ranged and one close combat specialist per each. You’re coming with me” she beckoned the amazon. “Erik, you’re going with Erandur.”   “Got it.” Her partner nodded.   “The temple is built around a rotunda with the central chamber at the very bottom.” The priest informed. “From the entrance, there is a small annex that leads to the spiral stairs that encircle the entire construction. That’s where they will be concentrated. The side rooms serve as a common room, library, mess hall and alchemy laboratory. Those shouldn’t be occupied. The stairs are wide enough to give us some room, but as the inner sides are barred, not walled, we will be instantly exposed. At least we will have a clear view on the main chamber from the very start of the stairs.” Erandur explained. He knew the layout of the temple well from his darker days.   “Great. No games, we bust in and all Oblivion breaks loose. Jenassa and I will engage their main forces. In the meantime, you two disable any arcane resistance and grab the girl. We’ll cover you as we retreat. How many of them should be there?”   “I did some scouting a few days ago. There should be between ten and fifteen people. I dared not get myself closer. No horses, they came on foot, no heavy equipment either.”   “Guards?” Aza wanted to make sure they won’t be surprised.   “Mayhap a summoned sentry or two near the entrance. Other than that, it’s just them. Worshipers of Vaermina rely mostly on their own skills.” He assured.   “Okay. We wait until it gets dark. Then we move out.”   ---   The crowd chanted unrecognizable words in monotone, melodic tone. The air was heavy with incense. Countless candles illuminated the central chamber, shadows of the gathered cultists danced on the walls. It was close to midnight, the ritual has been ongoing for almost an hour. The grand finale was approaching, everyone waited impatiently for the High Priest to do the honors.   The future conduit of Vaermina was lying unconscious on the altar; for this occasion the square of polished marble was cushioned with silk. She was nude, adorned only with elaborate golden bracelets around her wrists and ankles and a matching golden chain around her neck connected by a cord of pearls to another chain around her waist. Her light skin was oiled, her nails painted in Vaermina’s favorite color; dark purple. The same color were the robes of the priests and acolytes around her. She wasn’t as young as one would expect a virgin to be, as she was barely twenty years of age. Yet, her breasts were fresh, waist slim, and hips wide.   The master of the ceremony, an elder High Elf, bent over her, casting his shadow on the girl’s face. Whispering secret incantations, he blew air between her parted lips. She cooed in her sleep, trapped in the Daedra’s realm. A tear rolled down her pale cheek.     “And deem us worthy!” He finished the incantation, cupping her soft, warm breasts. Her nipples were light pink, the areolas small.   Meanwhile, two female acolytes were entrusted with the honor of working his member, eagerly sucking it and licking his sack, so that his rod will be hard and ready to penetrate the girl’s unspoiled pussy. They hoped the High Priest remembers their efforts in the future. He gestured them to step aside, the acolytes stroked the girl’s thighs, spreading her numb legs wide apart. Adoration and anticipation was in their eyes, but perhaps it was the effect of the brew.   The blasphemous priest would never admit it, but aside from the spiritual aspect of this ceremony, he also enjoyed it on a more carnal level. There was strange allure in sleeping women, conscious ones were too self-absorbed. He was preparing for this night for almost a year. Another conduit, another torn hymen on his account. His golden-skinned penis with an ivory cap gently glided against her entrance. Already he felt resistance, there was no doubt the Nord girl was a virgin. He suspected she was going to be tight, despite being unconscious. Wonderful.   Yet, before he could softly violate her, an arrow struck the side of his neck, conjuring a surprised gurgle from his pierced throat. He reached to the sides of his neck, feeling both ends of the dart. Unsure if it was just him or the brew, he attempted to get back to the ritual, smiling warmly, unaware of the blood leaking on his shoulders. Another arrow plunged straight into his ear, putting him out of the game for good. He staggered back, tripped over his own feet, and fell into the hot fragrant coals in a brazier behind him. The scent of incense was spoiled by the stench of burning hair and flesh.   Now did the rest of the cultist realize their foul ceremony was interrupted and their High Priest dead. The female acolytes shrieked with pain, turning their gaze up to where the shots came from. They screamed again, this time in anger, spotting the intruders at the top of the spiral stairs. The rest of the worshippers turned their heads to where the shrieking acolytes were pointing. All gathered cried out a curse, pushing on the unexpected attackers.   ---   “Nerevar himself must guide my hand!” Jenassa boasted, landing a third perfect hit during the assault; her arrow got one of the female cultists straight in the eye, killing instantly.   “Nerevar this, Nerevar that, do you ever shut up about Nerevar?” Aza nagged, breaking an approaching cultists knee with a sharp kick and decapitating him when he staggered back with a pained howl. She kicked the freed head under the feet of another Vaermina worshipper, knocking him off balance to helplessly roll down the narrow stairs.   “Well, it’s not my fault Lord Nerevar chose me! I must be special, and denying it would just be rude!”   “I reckon you never sucked a dragon’s soul!”   “Sera!” The elf paused to elbow an approaching Imperial in the face. The sound of breaking teeth was pure delight to her sensitive ears. “When it comes to sucking, you and I have a lot in common!”   ---   “Brother Casimir…?” The Bosmer woman’s huge eyes were dulled with the brew, yet somehow she recognized his face.   “Erandur,” he corrected, avoiding looking her in the eyes. “My name is Erandur. Casimir is dead.”   He smashed the woman’s head, instantly ending her miserable existence. Feeling sudden numbness, he lowered his weapon. Around him were the sounds of battle, but inside him was a battle of his own. He was so preoccupied with his dark thoughts, that he lost his guard. He would surely be stabbed in the back by another former comrade if it wasn’t for Erik. His gruesome axe struck from above, cutting off the hands of a Breton trying to sneak up on Erandur.   “And if you don’t want to join that Casimir of yours, you’re going to snap out of it!” Erik grunted, grabbing the handle firmer. For a second their eyes met, but there was no time for pep talk. Erik spun around, the orichalcum blade bit deeply into the hip of an Orc running full speed at them with a war axe in each hand.   ---   “That all of them?” Jenassa was alarmed by how few arrows she had left.   “On the upper levels, yes. I think.” The Redguard tried to get pieces of skull and brain out of her hair.   “Help them downstairs?”   “Help them downstairs.”   “Goodie, I’ll bet five bits they screwed something up.”   ---   The girl was still asleep, despite all the turmoil around her. Even the last dying cries of Vaermina’s faithful couldn’t break the spell.   “Grab her, I’ll cover you!” The priest ushered, pointing his bloodied and dripping mace at the exit. His other hand was burning bright with a fire spell ready for anyone who would stand in their way.   Erik picked the girl up; she was surprisingly light. She was alive and unharmed, but they still had to get her out of this foul place before calling their rescue a victory.   The two fierce women approached, as bloodied as their comrades.   “You have her! Good, let’s get her out of… Ysolda?” Aza stared dumbfounded at the girl in Erik’s arms.   “Well what do you know.” Jenassa whistled. She also knew the young aspiring merchant.   “Leave now, share stories later?” Erik’s eyelid twitched. Another of Aza’s ‘friends’?   “There’s no rush. We got them all.” The Redguard assured. “Just don’t drop her.”   “But just in case, we will cover you.” Erandur insisted. He knew there were many nooks and crannies in Nightcaller Temple that were perfect for ambush.   They began their climb up the stairs in formation. First Aza and Jenassa, then Erandur and finally Erik carrying Ysolda at the end. The girl cried in her sleep as if she was falling, clutching a handful of Erik’s hair and pulling roughly. He hissed, but endured.   Strange, she wasn’t heavy, but it seemed his comrades were getting far ahead of him. His legs felt unnaturally heavy. The air around him was stuffy, he had a hard time breathing. The steps were barely visible in the thick purple fog that suddenly enveloped him. What was going on? He struggled to push forward but the air was so dense, that he might as well try passing a solid stone wall.   “Erik! Erik! Get back! Get back down!” Somewhere far away he heard Aza’s scream.   He turned around and sluggishly walked down the stairs. Although he was positive he was climbing them for a few minutes, he barely passed five steps. Where was he now? The main chamber seemed… different. The bodies were gone, so were the splatters of blood and chunks of flesh. Only things remaining of the cultists were their robes and weapons. It was brighter and less… ominous than he remembered.   He looked over his shoulder; the exit was obstructed by a thick, purple fog. He looked up; the three other heroes were staring at him through the bars.   “What’s happening?” He asked helplessly, cautiously laying the girl back on the altar. There were dark forces present here, and he was all alone.   “Yes, what’s going on, Erandur?” Aza turned to the priest. “Why is the Miasma manifesting itself again?” She asked, fear creeping into her voice.   “I… I’m not sure.” The priest of Mara replied confused, tugging on his dark beard.   “Figures” Jenassa crossed her arms. When it came to being useful, priests were utterly worthless. It seemed that those five bits were soon going to slide into her pocket.   “It’s definitely Vaermina’s doing.” Erandur said slowly. “She’s not giving up that easily. She hungers.”   “Hungers?” Aza had a bad feeling.   “Yes. Although she doesn’t demand many bloody sacrifices, she already took the bodies of her worshippers. And she’s holding the girl and your friend captive.”   “What for?”   “If she’s not going to have her as a conduit, she’s at least expecting a good show.”   Aza laughed nervously, but felt like someone punched her in the gut. She and Jenassa shared a look. The elf was surprised to see her comrade so affected.   “The conduit is never chosen blindly, the coven never abducts a random virgin. She must have aroused Vaermina’s attention by the amount and intensity of her dreams.”   “So, the lovely Ysolda had some extremely raunchy dreams?” The amazon suggested.   “In an essence, yes. And the Daedra wants to see her finally play them out.”   “Hey!” Erik shouted from downstairs. “I can hear you, you know!”   “So can I.” A feeble voice said.   Ysolda was awake. Sitting on the edge of the altar, she surveyed her surroundings. She didn’t remember much, only that she was on her way home from the Bannered Mare one evening and then everything went dark. Now she was in some obscure temple, still dizzy from whatever the cultists gave her. Before they drugged her, she was kept in a dark room for several days. From bits of overheard conversations she was able to piece together their intentions. And now the cultists were gone, instead there were those people. But that didn’t mean she was safe. She recalled the Redguard woman and elven mercenary. They were accompanied by a Dunmer man in monk robes. And she herself was trapped below with this confused-looking kinsman. By what she understood, the only way of getting out was to…   “What are you gawking at?!” She snapped at him, realizing she was wearing only jewelry. She shut her legs tightly, her skin felt strangely smooth. The damned heathens shaved her! “Don’t even think about it!” She warned.   “Oh sure, because I’m just dying to do you!” He grunted, motioning away. He didn’t expect her to be instantly all over him like the lasses in his old juvenile daydreams, but it would be nice if life stopped putting rabid bitches on his path.   “I mean it!” She threatened, trying to catch a nearby robe with her foot. She managed to grab it between her toes and pull up to reach with her hand, still glaring at the red-haired man. The scar on his face and the axe he was carrying didn’t make him particularly trustworthy.   “And what are you going to do? Scream? No one’s going to hear you anyway.” He said without thinking.   He hadn’t the faintest suspicion of the only logical outcome. Ysolda shrieked and ran into one of the smaller side rooms, pressing the robes to her chest. Her white bum bounced as she fled.   “Great going!” Jenassa applauded. “You’re a natural!”   Erandur said nothing, observing Aza’s profile. The Redguard was strained like he’d never seen her before.   “There’s nothing we can do now.” He said, gently putting his hand on her pauldron. “We should leave them be. There’s a comfortable common room on this level.”   “Great!” The amazon headed there first.   “Go on ahead. I’ll join you in a second.” The adventurer asked with a faint sigh.   “Of course.” Erandur was gone the next second.   “What now?” Erik asked helplessly from below. “This wasn’t part of the plan!”   “Yea, well… the plan changed.” She scolded. “You can’t expect me to hold your hand forever. You know the situation, you know what to do.”   “And you’re okay with this?” He asked with disbelief, raising his arms in despair.   “Okay with what? Setting up a peep show for the Daedra?”   “Oh, to Oblivion with the Daedra! They can suck my dick!” Erik declared loudly.   “Not so loud!” Aza hissed, looking around as if Vaermina was about to suddenly materialize. “Don’t push your luck!”   Agitated, Erik paced around the chamber like a captured animal. Maybe he could climb the wall and reach the bars? No… There was nothing he could hold on to. And those bars seemed pretty solid.   “Are you going to be okay with this?” He asked again, halting and crossing his arms. “Because it seems we’re out of options and I have to fuck my way out of a bad situation… Alone.”   “What’s that supposed to mean?”   “Are you going to be jealous?”   “No! Just be good to her!”   “I’m not a swine!” He protested, though he knew nothing about seducing virgins.   “I know you’re not. Look… I taught you all I could, but you’re on your own now.” Her chestpiece suddenly felt too tight. “You got this, just don’t rush and you’ll be fine.” With that, she left him alone.   The common room was composed of a few tables with comfortable chairs, single beds and a large but empty bookcase. In the back there was a small pantry. Jenassa already helped herself to the food and drink. Erandur gathered some into a basket small enough to fit between the bars. A long coil of rope was around his shoulder.   “I figured she’d want something to eat.” He said as the scarred woman entered. “I’ll deliver these myself.”   “You’re too kind.”   “Nonsense.” He still felt the weight of his old life on his shoulders.   “Are you going to cry?” The mercenary teased as they were alone.   “Am I going to have to choke a bitch?” Aza warned, heavily sitting opposite the elf.   “What’s your problem? You didn’t mind him having some fun back in the Reach.”   “That was different. This… isn’t part of my plan.” She reached for a bottle of strong orcish moonshine the Daedra worshippers had stashed away. The alcohol burning in her throat was a welcome relief.   “Open your heart to me.” Jenassa offered leaning bit forward.   “I can open yours if you’d like. Literally.” Aza took another gulp. “Damn this… I took him in, played mom to him, taught him all I knew… But he’s not a whelp anymore and he’ll soon grow sick of me constantly looking over his shoulder. It’s natural. I don’t want to be his nanny until he hates me, and I don’t want him gone either” she took another chug. “So, I came up with this plan…”   “Have a clam…” the elf pushed towards the heroine a plate with ice, bits of lemon and clam meat. The cultists must have been planning a feast after their ritual.   “He’ll soon feel smothered, I know it. Soon, he’ll realize he traded one cage for another…” she burped, swallowed another clam and washed it down with orcish booze. “But if I give him space, let him drift away for a while and let him be his own man without my interference…”   “You want to let him go, so he can come back and prove you’re meant to be?” The Dunmer patted her eyelashes.   “Bitch.” Aza concluded with a laugh. She was already getting drunk, Orc stuff worked fast. “I want his life to be his, not what I think it should be. Even if I have the best intentions, I can seriously mess him up. Just like his pa… Is that salmon?”   Fresh coral slices were pushed her way by the indifferent amazon.   “He’s not built to sleep with a virgin.” Jenassa said gravely.   “No, he’s not” Aza agreed, sucking on a piece of lemon.   ---   There was no escape. Thankfully, that ginger didn’t follow her. She struggled out of the golden trinkets, mindful of keeping them intact. She could fetch a good price from one of the Khajiit merchants for those. She pulled the silk robes over her head, and slid the jewelry into one of the hidden pockets.   She had a few admirers in the past and even accepted a few courtiers. Yet, those brief relationships ended quickly. She wanted to bed someone badly, but couldn’t stand the thought of some man considering himself her ‘conqueror’. It would be so degrading!   Although sweet and calm on the outside, inside she felt an itch she was too proud to scratch. Nighttime was the worst. Her dreams haunted her long after waking up. And what dreams those were! Stuffy from the heat and sweat, slippery and burning, filled with textures and flavors she never experienced in real life.   She planned to finally get it over with herself. Ironically, she had that Redguard woman bring her a mammoth tusk. Officially, she needed it to present to one of the Khajiit merchants in exchange for mercantile training. In truth, she sent it to a trusted jeweler to craft her an ivory dildo. She intended to use it the very night she was kidnapped. Damn her luck!   She pinched herself on the cheeks to shoo the unpleasant thoughts away. She went back to the main chamber. The man was sitting on the floor, eating a piece of dried meat and staring up at the bars.   “Erandur got you some food.” He explained, not bothering with looking at her.   “The priest?” She asked, approaching the basket on the altar. She didn’t realize how hungry she was.   “Mhm.” He muttered indifferently, busy with his thoughts.   Why was Aza so eager to push him into someone’s arms? He felt she was distancing herself from him ever since they left Solitude. Was this a test of sorts? Or was she planning something? Even if she didn’t want a relationship, she had no right to pretend they weren’t partners, damn it! Well, she never gave him any illusions, but didn’t clarify things either. It appeared that even cynical adventurers weren’t entirely free from female whims.   “Why are you people here?” He hadn’t noticed Ysolda standing close to him, but far from arm’s reach.   “We came here for the priest, actually. We need him for our mission. But he conditioned that we first help him with the Vaermina coven.” He said uncaringly.   “What mission?” She questioned further.   “Dragon slaying.” There was no trace of emotions in his voice.   “So… you’re adventurers?”   He looked at her like a suddenly whipped dog. Someone finally called him an adventurer without a trace of mockery, but he didn’t feel a thing.   “I guess…” he answered after a moment of pause. “Though this isn’t part of the plan.” He gestured at the walls around them, then shook his head.   She left him and ate on the altar, staring at his profile. He wasn’t bad looking, though his nose was a bit long and the tip too wide. But his jaw was pleasantly pronounced and there was something charmingly boyish about him, despite the scar and tightly shut lips. Mayhap she was too picky this whole time? She was twenty, for Gods’ sake! And defloration couldn’t be as bad as they said, right? Why not treat this as a one night adventure? There was nothing wrong with going crazy for one night, right?   “How’d you get that scar?” She asked, trying not to sound too flirty, but not too cold at the same time.   He glanced at her, then looked away. The slash on his cheek was instantly noticeable, even if the cut was smooth and clean. He ran his fingertips along the whole length; from the cheekbone to the low part of his neck. For a second he drifted away to that horrible night in Nilheim.   “And who do you take me for? I’m treating this whole thing seriously and you get rid of me like a pest!”   “I saved your life, you ungrateful brat!”   “And I came back for you!”   “Oh, the brave hero rescues his…”   “You’re not mine! Why would I even want someone like you?”   But he wanted her. Despite her history, attitude and looks, he wanted her.   “So?” Ysolda grew impatient.   “I got it for playing hero” he answered briefly. “It’s still better than getting my throat slit.” He got up from the floor and walked out of the room without a word. He needed to stretch his legs a bit.   He… He was ignoring her! What, was she not pretty enough for him? Was it that her nose was too pointed? Her hair too dark or short? She was a helpless virgin, for crying out loud! He should be trying his best to seduce her! Or pin her to the floor and… Gods, she needed cock.   To Oblivion with chastity and pride! It was about time to have her flower picked! And if he’s so indifferent… That’s actually better, he’ll be on his way immediately after the ordeal. Perfect, both will benefit without the awkward necessity of bumping into each other on the streets of Whiterun.   He was back a few minutes later. Still ignoring her, he walked up to the blocked path. He gazed into the purple mist, then turned around. He was growing frustrated. He understood the difficulty of convincing her to have sex with him. The tricky part was forcing himself to do it.   “My name is Ysolda, for the record.” She puffed.   “Uh-oh.” He noted.   His indifference wasn’t an annoyance anymore. No, it was a challenge. And come to think of it, what girl doesn’t dream of one intense night with a dashing adventurer?   “You know, this is the part you introduce yourself. What, are you some sort of savage?”   “Erik.” He said, growing tired of the conversation. Didn’t she want him to stay away just a moment ago?   “So…” She tried to lounge on the altar seductively. “Some women consider scars attractive.”   “Yeah, Orc women.” He grinned bitterly. What was she playing?   “Are you saying I’m ugly?” Her voice raised. Asshole, notice I’m not defensive anymore!   “I actually don’t care, go be a bitch somewhere else.”   “I wouldn’t be a bitch if you weren’t such an idiot, you ginger bastard!” She yelled at him.   “I’m not a ginger.” He was too tired to get angry. “I’m a redhead, there is a difference.”   “Screw it! Are you blind? I’m interested, let’s just get it over with!” She was almost screaming, tearing her robe off. She was in front of him in two long leaps. Rage was practically radiating from her.   “Touch them, idiot!” She said, pulling his hands to her breasts. “And tell me you don’t want to fuck me.”   Wait a minute… So, this was the secret? All he had to do was ignore her in order to have her practically beg him for sex? Women were strange, irrational beings, regardless if young maidens or grizzled old warrioresses.   “Well… I’m not saying no, but this is a bit unusual.”   “And that’s why it’s going to work!” She insisted, pressing herself to his black leather armor. “I’ll probably never see you again, so I won’t have to go through the embarrassment of meeting you daily.”   “And I won’t flaunt in anyone’s face about sleeping with you.” Erik promised.   “Good. Besides, we have to do it… But no one said this has to be unpleasant…”   “So, this is a mutual favor…” His brows raised.   “Exactly! I mean, I’m twenty and a virgin! Can you imagine?”   “Yeah…” he laughed nervously as if he weren’t in her spot just a few weeks ago. “Sucks to be you.”   “Whatever happens in…”   “…Nightcaller Temple.”   “… stays in Nightcaller Temple?”   “Deal.”   She touched his scar. Without the sour look, her face was actually pleasant. Her eyes were amber, almost honey-gold. Her auburn hair was smooth if a bit too short.   Moments later, the two were laying on a neat bed of purple robes. He was wearing only his undergarments, his armor was thrown behind. He didn’t rush, knowing there was one detail she didn’t know about. He was on top of her, working her neck and cleavage with his lips and teeth.   “Listen…” he started conversation, nibbling on her nipples. “Don’t get scared, but I’m very well… endowed.”   “All men say that.” Ysolda thought he was boasting. “Show me!”   Erik shrugged his shoulders and undid his loincloth. His cock heavily slammed against her belly, the tip reaching all the way to her navel.   “By the Eight…!” Her eyes widened with fear. That thing could permanently damage a woman if used the wrong way.   “I won’t hurt you!” He immediately assured. “I promise!”   Not waiting for any reply, he bend forward, landing quick kisses and bites on her light skin. He kept progressively sliding down, until he was teasing a small diamond-shaped piece of trimmed hairs on her womb.   “Nice one.”   “They did this to me!” She said embarrassed. “I don’t shave my privates like some harlot!”   “I’m not judging.”   He cautiously spread her pristine labials. Indeed, she was untouched. This was going to be tricky. Nonetheless, he went down to business. His tongue tasted her trembling slit, she arched her back. A cry escaped her throat, bringing the heat of embarrassment to her cheeks. Using one’s mouth between someone’s legs seemed so lewd, but felt incredible. By just using his tongue, he started a fire in her womb. A draught of juices followed. She smelled and tasted incredibly sugary, unlike a salty-sweet Redguard or spicy Dunmer.   “You’ll go slow, right?” She asked with her throat dry.   “No, you’ll go slow.” He said calmly, blowing some air on her clitoris. “I’ll lie on my back with you on top of me. You’ll decide how deep you want it, okay?”   She moaned in response, massaging her tits and breathing heavily. Questions raced in her head. Would he fit? Will there be a lot of blood? Will she be hurting a few days after? Another sticky stream of dew leaked from her unexplored vagina, mixing with his saliva. She was enjoying his agile tongue enough to…   “Stop, stop! I can’t come now!” She cried squirming away. “Mara, not yet!”   “Fine. You do me now.” He laughed, laying down.   “I’ll need some time with this.” She said, cautiously sliding his foreskin down. She tasted his tip; the texture was smooth and sleek, her tongue drew circles around it, the veins on the shaft thickened in response.   “I don’t expect you to take the whole thing in your mouth.” Erik waved her concern off, observing her with amusement. It was fun to be the more experienced one, even if he lost his own virginity just recently.   Ysolda stroked his shaft in no hurry, her other hand reached to his testicles. She groped them too hard, he inhaled loudly, but said nothing, just closed his hand on her shoulder to signal she was too rough. She released, resorting to just stroking his fluffy-haired sack. Her mouth got watery as she continued licking the cap. She finally bowed her head, yet was able to take less than half of the whole length. She pushed her head lower with determination and immediately pulled away, coughing and gagging. She had no idea how to perform a deep-throat.   “Everything alright?” He asked with a smirk.   “I’m fine, I just need practice!”   She formed a ring with her thumb and index finger to know where her limit was. She got back to sucking his cock, letting her drool flow down freely. Even if she didn’t use her throat, her lips, tongue and cheeks were energetic enough. When she put her heart into something, she could accomplish anything.   “I…” she suddenly said, looking up to see his face, her lips were flushed and glossy. “I think that’s enough.”   She got on top of him and squatted above his hard member. Stroking it with both hands, she pressed her vulva to the base of the shaft. She bit her lip, feeling the warmth of his skin and veins stroking her clit as she slid up and down, coating him with her dews. She was anxious and nervous of the pain. But Erik didn’t seem to be the rowdy type; he reached under her ass and supported her, giving he rump a gentle rub.   “Okay, don’t move a muscle…” she requested. In response he flexed his lower abdomen muscles; his penis joyfully wiggled. “That’s not funny!” She yelled.   “Okay, okay…” he finished his laugh with a snort. “I’m all serious now.”   She went still; her palms rested on his abdomen. He could feel her hands shake, but didn’t move an inch not wanting to startle her. After a moment of pause, she descended on his cock. Erik felt resistance; her hymen stretched and gave in, letting him inside. Ysolda gasped, but didn’t stop, her heart-shaped ass lowered itself further. She was an inch from the base when she felt she couldn’t take any more in. He understood without a word. From this perspective he could see a thin stream of blood leak out, drip down and stain his pubis. Again, the bards were proven to exaggerate as the stream was meager. Although, he could tell from the look on her face the pain was there.   “You okay?”   “It hurts.” Ysolda stated the obvious. “But it’s nothing I can’t bear. Just… let me do it”.   She moved her hips up and down, breathing with strain. It hurt, especially with a man of his size. But it was not the worse kind of pain in her busy life. She did a few slow squats, not deterred by the discomfort. She knew she’ll be sore and hurt for a long time after.   Doing something wrong was as bad as doing nothing, Erik knew that well. She was stretched enough, now it was time to turn this into a team effort.   “Lie down on me” he said.   Ysolda rested on her knees and bend forward, her face was above his. Erik firmly grabbed her ass and bit into her sweet small nipples. He just realized she was the first kinswoman he had. Well, she wasn’t much curvy or athletic, her skin was too light, not even a slight tan, but she was pleasantly soft and her womanhood enshrouded in youthful vigor.   “Rest a bit” he muttered from between her breasts, holding her firmly in place.   “Gods!” She screamed when he started thrusting. His moves were fast, but shallow; only half of his rod went in. Yet, she cried out a line of Divines, omitting only Talos.   Progressively, her pussy stretched and adapted. The pain was slowly dulled by growing pleasure. It was faint, but she definitely enjoyed the adventurer’s cock taking away her innocence. Her legs straddled wider, her ass stuck out further, eager for more ploughing. The stream of blood ceased completely, giving in to more juices. She moaned, bending her head back. Her eyes closed, focusing her mind on the throbbing, but satisfying friction in her womb.   “How are you holding up?”   “Ugh! I’m fine!” She muttered. She hated when men treated her like a little girl that needed their care. She was an adult woman and she could take care of herself.   “Okay, then…” she couldn’t see it, but his clear eyes were brightened by a momentary spark. “Get off me.”   “What?” She asked dumbfounded, opening her eyes.   “Foreplay’s over” Erik unceremoniously said, pushing her off.   Before Ysolda could say anything, he got up and pulled her by the hand to do the same. Ignoring her protests, he dragged her to the altar. He shoved the young girl forward, her palms rested on the marble, her knee hit against the side.   “What are you doing?” She asked alarmed.   “You don’t like men sucking up to you? No problem, it’s time I treat you like a big girl.” He grinned disturbingly. “Stick your ass out, keep your hands on the altar.”   She whimpered a bit, but obediently followed his instructions. Erik had no intention of being overly rough, but he wanted to put her through her paces after the fear and pain of defloration were dealt with. He spanked her, Ysolda whined surprised, but didn’t do anything to stop him. It was just this night, self-respect was only getting in her way.   She felt his pointed glans slide into her with little effort, the thick shaft was felt with grazing intensity. She cried, pushing her ass forcefully to meet with his cock. Erik pumped her faster, still mindful of how deep he should go. But she loved it. He reached to grab her by the hair and pull her head back; gently but solidly. He bit her ear, enjoying her moans and frantic breathing. Her hips swayed to the sides, enjoying different angles. From her tempo he could determine she wouldn’t take long.   “Spread your legs some more.” He ordered, tugging her auburn hair.   She obeyed. He licked his fingers and slid them down her abdomen. He pinched and rubbed her swollen clit, pleased to hear her impatient whimpering.   “I’m going to come soon!” She gasped out, looking over her shoulder. She wanted to kiss him and taste his mouth, but that would be too much for a one night stand. Her other lips though, were tightly enveloping his working member.   “Enjoy yourself.” He replied, sinking his teeth into her shoulder.   His thick penis and quick fingers made her climax like never before. In one second her pussy squeezed him tightly, almost immobilizing. She felt an explosion in her womb, she couldn’t help but cry from ecstasy and pain. Teardrops rolled down her red cheeks and fell onto the marble. Gods, someone finally made her come! She felt her pussy and mind melt, as her joints refused cooperation.   “Hey!” A slap on the butt snapped her back to reality. “You can rest in a moment. It’s my turn.”   “Wait!” She had a sudden realization. “I don’t have any potion! And this isn’t my safe time of month!”   “I know. Don’t worry. I won’t leave you with the consequences. Just give me a minute… or two.”   He fucked her faster, his grip on her hips was painfully firm. She bent her elbows, resting flat on the altar’s surface, but her ass was still eagerly sticking out. Erik closed his eyes, giving her rump another series of slaps. Her ass wasn’t as robust as a Redguard’s but he was almost there.   With a grunt he pulled out. He jerked his throbbing cock and came all over her ass, his cloudy sperm thoroughly coating her skin. The girl yelped in protest, but she wasn’t fooling him; her lustful side loved to be showered so generously by his seed.   Erik wiped the sweat from his brow, grooming his hair back. Ysolda was sighing and whimpering, her numb body rested lifelessly on the square of marble. Her labials parted; the last portion of virginal blood  and juices followed. Some was also on his member though not as much as either of them feared.   “Mara…!” She whispered. She felt ripped inside… But she also experienced the fieriest orgasm of her life.   She heard the sound of tearing material. A moment later his hand slid between her legs; Erik tore a piece of silk from one of the robes and was now wiping her from the blood, juices and seed.   “I think I won’t be able to walk for a few days” she complained, wiping tears from her face.   Erik glanced at the exit. The path was clear, Vaermina was also satisfied.   “We can go now.” He said with relief. He wanted as little to do with Daedra as possible.   “Yeah” she reached for the robe she claimed as hers. He reached for his loincloth and started to put his armor on.   “Hey…” he heard from behind, he turned around, adjusting his belt.   “Thank you. We both agreed this is casual, but thanks for saving me, and… I’m glad you weren’t an asshole.”   “I thought you didn’t like nice guys?” He teased, putting his shirt on. “But you’re welcome.”   ---   The moonshine bottle laid an empty shell on the floor, next to assorted bottles of other alcohols. The amazon and adventurer were now completely drunk, debating on a topic that by now drifted far away from the original subject. In the meantime, they had two visitors, but had already forgotten about them.   “Excuse me?” Jenassa wobbly got up from her chair.   “Want me to say it again?” Aza followed, grinning like a Dremora. A fight was in the air.   Erandur, who up to now was keeping himself out of the conversation, suddenly jumped and pressed his palms against their sweaty foreheads. Both women sobered up at once, though it wasn’t without consequences. They were immediately struck with heavy hangovers.   “Oh, Azura…” Jenassa hid her face in her hands. “My head…”   “My gut…!” Aza added. “Why’d you do that for?”   “Forgive me, sera. Next time you two are inebriated and at each other’s throats, I will maintain respectful distance.”   There were steps coming from the spiral stairs. Erik and Ysolda entered the common room.   “Had fun?” Jenassa asked cheerfully.   Aza hit the elf on the head with a piece roasted goat leg. She turned to the two and quickly examined them. The girl was safe and sound, showing no signs of harm. Erik gave her a short look before turning his head away. There was no telling what he was thinking.   “I remember you…” the former virgin said, focusing on the Redguard’s face.   “Likewise. While you were… busy, two Companions came to rescue you. They were a bit late to the party.”   “Hulda must have sent them!” Ysolda guessed with a smile of gratitude. She and the innkeeper of the Bannered Mare were close.   “I managed to explain them the situation. They’re in Dawnstar’s inn now, waiting for you.” Erandur interjected. He was the only sober of the three, so he negotiated with the fighters. “They agreed to escort you home in the morning. If that would be your wish, of course. We’re heading to Whiterun as well, but our task requires haste.”   Ysolda gave Erik a look. Well, it was fun, but the party was over. It was time to get back to her everyday life. However, she was now relieved form her troublesome burden and could face every new day without the shadow of vulgar dreams over her.   “Yes, I think it’s for the best. I don’t want anyone asking any questions.” She said calmly. “If you could just walk me to the inn…”   ---   As Ysolda parted with the four heroes and went to meet with the warriors of Skyrim’s ancient fighters guild, one couldn’t help but notice how beaming she was. The now complete camaraderie could ride to Whiterun.   “Well, glad that one didn’t end in a disaster.” Aza tried to joke while they were preparing for the journey. “Good to have you, Erandur.”   “I’m glad to aid your cause, my friend” the priest assured. Now that the coven was no more and their hostage free, he was finally at peace. “You have my mace.”   “And my bow!” Jenassa joined in, already forgiving the Redguard for clobbering her with a heavy, but tasty goat leg.   “And my axe.” Erik assured, saddling his horse.   They shared a look. His clear blue eyes didn’t have that sinister spark, but weren’t tender either.

Chapter 13 - The Amazon

“Would you stop waggling your dicks? No one’s impressed!” Aza slammed her fist on the table in frustration.   The sound hollowed across the stone chamber. General Tullius and Jarl Ulfric reluctantly sat back in their chairs. Death threats and promises of revenge (or justice) would have to wait. Thankfully, the head Thalmor was immediately told to leave when the two heroes entered the monastery. Aza had no interest in politics, but those High Elf assholes earned her pure, affectionate hate. Supreme-bred Mer, what bullshit! The Blades were present as well, and surprisingly Esbern helped pacify the first outburst between the interested parties with an impassioned speech.   The heroine exhaled loudly, sinking back into her chair. No one knew who was the man sitting by her side, but as she was the Dragonborn, he was bound to be someone important. The scar on his cheek and neck looked lethal, though his face was bright and alert. He didn’t flinch when the heroine snapped, tired of the fiery exchange between Ulfric and Tullius. Truth be told, Erik was bored to tears. But he was sitting obediently at her side, trying not to give away that he was a peasant amongst lords.   “How about this…” the Redguard sighed deeply, her head was pulsing with numbing pain. “Markarth in exchange for Riften? Silver for honey? Anyone? Because the dragon won’t be waiting forever, you know? And who knows what it will do once it gets tired of waiting…”   The Jarl of Windhelm and Imperial General eyed each other gravely, then slowly nodded.   ---   The heavy monastery doors slammed behind them with a deafening sound. Aza took a deep breath of the crisp mountain air.   “I could let my ass be used and abused by a band of savage tribals for as long as they’d like, if it meant that I wouldn’t have to deal with politics anymore.” She declared, shaking her head. As Erik predicted, most of her beads were already gone.   “Don’t joke about things like that!” He frowned. They didn’t swear anything to each other. But still, he didn’t want to think about anyone else touching her. “So, with the temporarily peace secured, we can focus on finding those two friends of yours?”   “Yeah. It will take more than just the two of us to capture a dragon. And” she weighted the scroll she received from Esbern, containing the name of the dragon they were to summon. It was a nice touch, but the answer to the Paarthurnax issue was still no. “This will come in handy.”   ---   A courier was waiting for them down in Ivarstead. His travel clothes and horse suggested he was carrying an important message. He presented Aza with a letter with a fancy-looking seal and was on his way the next second.   “Who is it from?” Erik was curious.   “The Jarl of Morthal…” Aza replied puzzled. “She writes that she dreamed of us, claims to have helpful advice… She recommends searching for a ‘crimson-eyed beauty’ in the Reach.”   “The Jarl claimed to be a seer…”   “The area is infested with those crazy Forsworn. Well, let’s get a move on. First, the Amazon, then the Priest.”   ---   Jenassa rested her back against a juniper tree, her trusty bow was at her side. She was running low on arrows, but she had a short sword with her. She was exhausted, almost on the verge of passing out. Oh, how did she regret this contract! Chewing on a dry, bland apple, she recollected her recent actions.   Whiterun was a nice, cozy place to stay, but as Elrindir grew more and more insistent, she was forced to explain to him she had no intention of bedding his squab ass. With her fists. She then left the Drunken Huntsman, taking a fine elven bow as reparation for her wounded pride.   She hiked west, with no fixed plan or destination. On her way she stole a nice chestnut gelding from a bandit sleeping off a drunken stupor. The fool hadn’t realized he was robbed of his mount until he woke up the next day.   She ended up in Markarth. The spectacular city was always blooming with work for a mercenary of her caliber. As expected, the Jarl had trouble with the Forsworn. The damned savages roamed the land, leaving nothing but destruction behind. They sacked merchant caravans, raided mines and villages, murdered travelers and left the bodies on the roads with boldness like never before. As he had no guards to spare (and there were already rumors about appointing a new Jarl), he resulted to hiring mercenaries in order to resolve the issue, even though he had no love for sellswords.   Jenassa entered Understone Keep in the most convenient time. She was sent to a major Forsworn camp called Lost Valley Redoubt, along with a number of other soldiers of fortune. Three days later, she was the sole survivor, trapped at the top of a steep hill with the remaining Forsworn waiting patiently for her to grow desperate and attempt to fight her way out.   Well, it was a good life. A bit uncertain at times, but free and independent, just as she intended it to be. She had no regrets.   She walked up the edge of a stone platform overlooking the camp below. According to legend, she was standing where a bard jumped off centuries ago. Though, the outcome of said jump was unknown. Water poured down from both sides of the platform, falling into a large stone pool several feet below with a thundering sound. The water in the pool was vibrant red with blood and insides of both factions. The remaining tribals were going on about their daily routine, every once in a while glancing at her post. They had time… and food.   She threw the apple core, aiming at one of the Briarhearts. She missed, instead hitting an alchemy lab he was working on. A small explosion and smoke followed. Pleased by this minor victory, she retreated to her temporary camp. She cleared it off the bodies of two Hagravens, the Forsworn and shreds of animal sacrifices which she then unceremoniously threw over the cliff, along with totems and fetishes the savages kept. She then gathered any furs, scarce food and potions she could find. Water was not an issue, as a clear mountain stream ran through her outpost. Ignoring the savage tribals and traces of their foul magic, this was a quite pleasant place.   The elf went through her supplies, retrieving a bottle of cheap wine. She drank with relief, before deciding to risk and walk down a few stone steps to check if she was safe. The midday sun shone in her armor; a fine set of elven work, though her boots and gauntlets were glass. She spat on the ground, knowing that some damned primitive will pry it off her and wear with pride as a trophy.   The coast was clear, although… One of her comrades’ bodies seemed to move? She slid the bottle into her satchel and cautiously snuck up to it.   “I could use some of that wine” she heard a weak voice. She recalled the man was named Vorstag, another carefree merc who got more than he’d bargain for.   “A healing potion would do you more good.” She quietly said, turning him over, as he was lying on his side at the bottom of the first set of stairs. Thankfully, they were still too far from their foes to be concerned. Vorstag let her haul him to the top of the hill, leaving behind a trail of dark blood. The unpleasant smell he gave away suggested he was hit around the lower abdomen. Pity, she needed all the advantage she could get, and it was easier to survive together than alone.   Back at the tent she rested his back against a bundle of furs and got the potion. The hireling sighed deeply, the sun blinded him. He was done for. Yet, she risked and poured half of the healing potion into his mouth. He coughed, but managed to swallow some without spilling much over himself.  But it was no use, the bright red potion almost immediately oozed out of the deep cut he had on his side. It was too late for him, they both knew it.   “And I thought I’d pay off my gambling debts with this job” he laughed, falling into a spastic cough. His chin and neck were covered in sticky blood.   “I could ease your pain” the Dunmer offered, wiping some off his face. He had a purple smear on his cheek; the remains of his war paint. She was actually considering bedding him at the beginning of their mission as he looked clean and healthy. Too late now.   “It won’t take long” he assured calmly. “Though about that wine…”   She took one last chug herself and pressed the bottle against his lips. He drank slow, savoring his last drink. It was a pointless, but comforting courtesy on her part.   “Do you need anything else?” Jenassa inquired.   “Well, since you ask…” he tried to act suave. “My time has come, lassie…”   “You call me that one more time and I’ll finish you off.”   “Ha!” The mercenary was facing death with cheer. “Well, most honored lady, I have no illusions. I’m going to die here, in less than an hour or so. I can almost hear the Choosers of the Slain soaring up, waiting to claim my soul.”   “You talk too much for a dying man.”   “Death won’t shut me up.” He said confidently. However, he took much longer to form words. “You know, they say the Choosers sometimes give the fallen one last handjob before they take them to Sovngarde …” he winked. His eye stayed closed for a longer while.   “If you want me to jerk you off, all you need to do is ask.”   “But what of the courting?” Vorstag nonchalantly spat blood on the ground.   “You’re dying, yet you’re still in the mood to play games?” Jenassa raised her brow.   “As if death in honorable battle was a bad thing. Now, could I have my last rites?”   The elf brushed his hair off his face, the light brown strands were drenched in sweat. The Nord relaxed, trying to ignore his bleeding side. He was as calm as someone positive of their rightful place in Sovngarde.   Undoing the straps and buckles of his armor was too troublesome in gauntlets. She took them off, seconds later she felt his thick but soft foreskin under her palms. It took a longer while to get him half-erect, the blood loss was too great. Yet, she patiently massaged his shaft with both hands. Some blood leaked onto his groin.   “I guess a blowjob would be too much to ask?” He joked. Or perhaps not?   “Be grateful for what you have.” She shot him down without a blink.   “Could I at least feel you up a bit?” The hireling pleaded. Having nothing to lose, he could afford to be blunt.   “Only because you won’t be able to tell anyone…” She agreed graciously.   Elven armor was surprisingly easy to slip out of for someone who knew its every plate and ornament. She kept her glass boots on.   “So, this is what it takes to make you strip for me?” He asked, running his hand along the side of her neck and shoulder. Though sweaty, his hand was unnaturally cold. Time was running out. “It was worth to get stabbed, then.” His voice was barely audible.   Jenassa let his hands wander her neck and chest, enjoying the coolness of the highland wind and warmth of the sun. Luckily, though his palms were covered in blood, it had time to dry. Little russet flakes set on her grayish-blue skin. Touching an elven woman was suffice to make him hard. He breathed with his mouth, ignoring little red streams lazily dripping from the corners of his mouth.   She regretted the circumstances she found herself in. She’d love to feel him inside, ride him and let him mount her. She needed both hands to work his cock. She saw and had bigger, but was curious how he’d use it on her. Sadly, she’d never find out.   “Just a bit longer…” Vorstag exhaled a shallow breath, observing her through half-shut eyes, although his hazel sight went somewhere beyond. She had no idea whether it gazed into the Nord underworld or back to some pleasant memory. It didn’t matter. “Now, look at me!” He pinched her nipple painfully hard as he managed to come with much effort. A plentiful, but weak stream lazily oozed from his cock, down the whole shaft and sunk into his pubis, mixing with the blood. The elf kept stroking in the same intense rhythm, helping him get his entire load out.   Vorstag’s eyes were set on her, the look in them thoughtless, but pleased. His irises were unnaturally large. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but his lips didn’t move. He wasn’t there anymore.   Jenassa let go of his cock, it laid its head on the hairs covered in sperm and blood. She licked her fingers; the taste was good, he was indeed healthy and strong. What a pity. She still had time to do something with the body before it completely stiffens. She didn’t want it around, but didn’t intend to dump it into the pool below either. Such disrespect of the dead wasn’t her style.   She wiped him from the fluids, then put him back in his armor. She got dressed as well, a chill went down her spine. She used a few free furs and linen sheets to completely wrap him up, and on a large pelt of a deer she pulled him down the steps, back to where she found him. She wasn’t religious, but spent a moment near the body, whispering words of comfort. She didn’t look over her shoulder as she went back to her camp.   Although it was early in the afternoon, she decided to take a short nap. She needed to stay alert, the Forsworn were bound to strike at dawn or in the night. And she’ll be waiting for them. After her nap, she could show herself a bit of affection. Although Jenassa never burdened herself with any romantic nonsense, she could use someone’s company. This one last time.   “Such fatalism!” She whispered dramatically, crawling into the tent. She rested her head on a rolled fur and with the glass blade at her side, slipped into uneasy sleep.   She woke up late in the afternoon at the sound of turmoil. But it wasn’t the Forsworn attacking. It was the Forsworn being attacked. She cautiously crept up to the edge of the fall. The sounds of battle moved up the stone steps, towards her camp. Not allowing herself to lose focus to numbing hope, the Dunmer retreated from the observation spot and hid behind the stone altar. With an arrow readied, she waited. Apparently, the odds have changed.   ---   “I’ve heard they let Hagravens replace their hearts with hexed briars, but actually seeing one…” Erik kicked the slain Briarheart’s corpse off their path.   “Sick, I know. And the smell!” Aza wiped her blades on the Forsworn witch’s armor. What was the point of wearing such scantly armor in the first place? Were they hoping to confuse their enemies with their bodies? She used to wear skimpy armor herself, but those few pelts and straps offered no protection!   The tribal forces were already thinned before they got to Lost Valley Redoubt. Among the fallen were also mercenaries. Thankfully, there was no body of a Dark Elf female amongst them. They pushed through the main camp and moved up to the stone steps.   The path was decorated with red splatters, now dry and crisp. Every few steps there was a stray arrow or weapon. In a large dried puddle was a bent pauldron. It must have took much force to damage it, as it was of Dwemer craft.   “This must have been brutal.” Erik mused, trying to stay focused.   “Come! Face the Forsworn!” A witch yelled, ambushing them from behind the corner. Aza ignored her taunting and plunged her sword straight into the tribal’s opened mouth. The tip of the blade pierced her throat and exited by the hindhead.   “Bit of advice for your the next life – less talking, more dodging.” She advised indifferently, as the last sparks of thought faded from her opponent’s eyes. The witch’s lifeless body slid off the sword’s tip and fell down the stairs. The sound of braking bones followed. They advanced up.   Around the corner, near the summit, lied a shape wrapped in furs and cloth. A body. Erik carefully cut the end that should be the head. Beneath the improvised funeral shrouds was a pale face of a Nord male. His lips were blue, on his cheek was a smear of purple war paint.   “Not our Dunmer… Did you know him?” He asked, noticing his partner’s stare.   “No. Though I wouldn’t mind to.” She denied, eying the dead man’s brow and jawline.   “Leering at the dead? Really? Have some respect!” Erik reprimanded, covering the corpse back. He hoped she didn’t sense jealousy in his voice.   “Admiring, not leering.” Aza corrected. “There are lines even I don’t cross.”   “We’re almost there” he changed the subject, switching the dagger for the axe.   What was left of the Forsworn after the mercenary raid was finished off by the two heroes. The remaining primitives were either dead or died away somewhere in the bushes. The hill was reclaimed by civilization.   As they reached the top, an arrow cut the air with a hiss, striking the ground between them. The gilded dart shone in the sunlight.   “Sheathe your weapon” Aza ordered, seeing her partner’s stance. The arrow was elven, not tribal. And the shooter missed on purpose. This was a crucial moment. “Trust me.” She said and Erik obeyed without hesitation. The axe rested on his back.   “Jen, it’s me!” The Redguard called out. There was no answer.   “Prove it!” A low, but female voice demanded after a longer moment.   “Mephala’s sweet titties and Boethiah’s she-cock!” Aza replied, as if the obscenities spewing from her mouth were some sort of secret code.   “How did you meet her again?” Erik asked in disbelief.   “Shut it.”   “Are you two going to stand there all day?” The low voice grew impatient.   They crossed a short stone bridge leading to the small holm between two streams. From behind a hide wall approached the Dunmer amazon. Not following the major Dark Elf canons of beauty, her hair was dark, not red. She wore yellow war paint. And indeed, her eyes were crimson with a shade of scarlet. She eyed the two heroes dispassionately. Although she seemed worn out, the look on her hawkish face was sharp and prepared.   “The Gods must have a sense of humor.” She said after a moment of tense silence. “After all, they sent you to my aid. Forgive me if I won’t fall into your arms weeping.”   “As if I’d want that!” Aza laughed. The elf sheathed her bow, it was a good sign.   “I do not believe in coincidences, sera. Why have you come?” Jenassa asked, resting her behind against the stone altar. She knew that the only thing you could get for free in the life of a wanderer was a punch in the face.   “I need you…”   “Touching. You know my price.” The elf remained indifferent.   “It’s about saving the world…” Aza tried to negotiate.   “Double.”   “From dragons…”   “Triple.”   The Redguard sighed deeply. She knew this wouldn’t be easy, but she didn’t expect Jenassa’s professional pragmatism to be this strict.   “Erik, go get the horses.” She turned to her partner. She already had an idea brewing, but she needed him away for a moment. His part in her scheme required shock therapy.   “I saw a chestnut one near where we left ours” he recalled.   “That one’s mine.” The amazon confirmed, pleased to hear her horse was alive.   “I’ll go get them.”   “I see your wimp is still alive and kicking.” The elf made seemingly idle chatter when Erik was out of earshot.   “He’s not a wimp and he’s got the scars to prove it.” Aza felt as if someone insulted her own child.   “So I noticed. Pity, he’s got a nice face.”   “And the most amazing cock in all of Skyrim!” Aza risked. She needed something to catch the hireling’s attention.   The mercenary laughed as if being told a particularly raunchy joke.   “What else, sera? Please, after nearly meeting my death I am eager to hear more bullshit!”   “I’m Dragonborn and I need you to help me lure and capture a dragon in Whiterun, then interrogate it.” Aza revealed with a sigh. It was unbelievable what a stubborn bitch that elf was.   “Have you been hitting the skooma?” The mercenary asked confused.   “I don’t touch that stuff!” The adventurer swore, offended by such accusations. “Okay, you want some proof? Fine!” She groaned approaching Jenassa’s dying campfire.   “What are you…?”   “YOOL!” Aza Shouted, reigniting the flames with her Thu’um.   Jenassa looked at the Redguard, then at her now burning campfire, then back at the heroine.   “You screamed at my campfire.” The Dunmer noted dispassionately. “That doesn’t prove anything. The same result could be achieved with some good bellows”   “You bitch! I Shouted! In dragon tongue! What more proof do you want?”   “Something far more impressive than setting fire for my supper. Give me your best shot.” Jenassa dared, crossing her arms.   Aza grinded her tongue, crossing the stream. The two were now opposite to each other, separated by the flowing ribbon of water. Give her best shot? Fine. She cleared her head, just like the Greybeards taught her, taking a deep breath.   “Fus… RO-DAH!” The heroine released her voice in a mighty Shout, aiming at the stream. An unexpected wave shot forth with enough force to topple the Dunmer and soak her camp. The fire went out with a hiss, smoke and vapor rose to the sky.     “Bitch…” Jenassa muttered, getting up. “Alright, you convinced me,” she admitted, wringing her drenched hair, with the sound still ringing in her ears. No mortal could shout like that.   “Good! So? Will you join my suicidal cause now?” Aza asked wearily, already knowing the answer.   “Hold on! I believe you, but that doesn’t mean I’ll join you.”   “Thought you’d say that.” Aza grinned. It was time to play dirty. A second later there was a clank; polished steel met with gilded elven armor. The Redguard crushed the elf in a tight embrace.   “Do you intend to beat me into submission?” The Dunmer dared, too worn out by this day to fight back.   “Not unless it’s your thing, Jen.” Aza was taller, so she had to bend forward. “How about this: I convinced you who I am, so maybe you let me prove that other thing you didn’t want to believe. And if you won’t change your mind, we’ll be on our way first thing tomorrow.”   “You think debauchery with your farmboy will make me go hunting dragons with you?”   “No, for now I’m proposing a nice threesome. Your decision is a completely separate matter. Come on” she tempted. “We got decent food, stamina potions and even some healing salve. He’s young, clean and I gave him a few intense lessons. He’ll surprise you.”   “I’m sure!” The elf snickered.   “Malicious wench!” Aza stroked her cheek. “You know, I liked you in leather much more. It was easier to get my hands on you.”   “Are you suggesting I’m easy?” The elf pouted insincerely.   “I’m not falling for that one! Now come on, he’ll be back soon.” The Redguard’s lips got dangerously close to the amazon’s. “Let’s give him something to gawk at.”   ---   “What?” He asked, seeing how reluctant the two girls were to follow his lead. He wasn’t in the mood to play games.   His bay mare neighed nervously, Aza’s paint shook her head.   “It’s about him? Oh come on!” He pulled their bridles harder, pointing his chin at the chestnut horse tied to his mare’s saddle. “He’s a gelding, he won’t do you no harm!”   The girls sluggishly followed him up to the summit. The chestnut gelding was thankfully docile and didn’t care who held its reins.   Once there, he unsaddled them and dumped all the gear on the altar. The mounts drank in one of the streams, afterwards enjoying a roll in the grass. He left them an opened sack of fodder, they should be good for now.   He stretched, hearing his vertebrae snap back into place. Without the Forsworn, this part of the Reach looked quite peaceful. The highland terrain and clouds shagging their belles on the rocky summits made him feel at peace, relaxed enough to finally feel sleepy.   Neither of the women were present outside the tent. The curtain leading inside was lowered. He heard movement inside, they must have been discussing something in private.   “Aah…!” He heard the Dunmer’s long wail. “You’re as good as I remembered!”   What the…?! He pushed the fur curtain aside.   Inside the tent were both Aza and Jen, wrestling in a position she introduced him to in Solitude, the infamous ‘69’. The Redguard was on top, her tongue was busy working the elf’s small pussy. Her hands were reaching under the hireling’s grayish-blue ass, spreading her cheeks wide and shameful. Although Erik was shocked by what he saw, he couldn’t help but notice the Dark Elf’s lips had a darker shade, but the fleshy part of her vulva was bright pink.   “What in Oblivion?!” He yelled, his voice was filled with shock and pain.   “Took your sweet time!” The Redguard ignored his outburst. “Come and help me, the bitch needs some convincing. Ouch!” She hissed as Jenassa bit her inner thigh.   “Call me that one more time and I’ll bite your clit off!” The elf threatened, getting back to tasting Aza.   “Ugh, she’s got a temper…” the adventurer sighed, as the elf slapped her ass. “Well, what are you waiting for?”   Erik just stood there, gawking at the sweaty bodies squirming on a large bear fur. He couldn’t utter a single word. He was shocked to see her being touched by someone else, but as it was another woman, he couldn’t help feeling arousal aside from anger.   “Well…?” Aza demanded he do something. “Strip!”   “You’ve got to be kidding me!” He snapped, clenching his fists. He felt betrayed, but also intrigued.   “What? Don’t give me that look! And don’t tell me you don’t want a piece of this!” She sat on the amazon’s face, conjuring a muffled scream. She spread Jen’s lips, revealing how wet and relaxed the hireling was. Erik could smell the elf’s exotic juices from where he was crouching, her wet hole was amazingly small. He was curious if he could fit… No!   “Have your fun, I’ll be waiting outside.” He grinded his teeth, determined to leave the two wenches be.   “Sera, I thought you said he’s not a wimp anymore?” Jenassa’s disappointed tone kept him from retreating. The elf squirmed from below the adventurer with surprising agility. The both women kneeled next to one another, gazing at him.   “The only reason she agreed to this was that I promised you’d join.” Aza revealed, licking the corner of her mouth, the taste of the elf’s tiny twat was still on her tongue.   “What?” Erik was dumbfounded.   “She promised you’re something I’ve never had before.” The amazon said, resting her head on Aza’s shoulder. “Though I’m not so sure now.”   “She wants us both, so there’s no need to get all pissy.” Aza tried to calm him down.   “Should have asked me first!” He said, looking away with difficulty.   “We wanted to surprise you.” She explained with an innocent smile, but even her blind eye was flickering.   “And if I say no?”   “We’ll have to use force.” The Dunmer sighed.   “Pff! You’re women! What can you do to me?” He laughed.   A second later he was pinned to the ground with Aza restraining his arms and Jenassa holding him by the legs. His weapons were too far to reach; the tent was roomy, even though the roof was low.   “Watch his knees, undo the belt first!” The Redguard advised, whilst Erik helplessly struggled. His partner was strong, and the elf agile enough to keep him in place.   “Crazy wretches! Get off me!”   “The more you struggle, the less pleasant this is for all of us.” The hireling preached, swiftly undoing his pants. Her hands were small, but she had nimble fingers.   “Erik, for the love of Mara, quit embarrassing me! Every other guy in your place would be tearing his clothes off!”   “I’m not every other guy!” He protested, as his pants were slid down to his knees.   “They all say that” the elf cut in, struggling with his loincloth. The damned whelp was fidgeting like a fish out of water.   “Relax” Aza’s face was upside-down as his head was resting on her laps, her breasts were almost completely obstructing it. “We’re not going to bite you! And I told you I want you to live a bit. Think of this as a new experience.” She said softly, though his hands were still kept in place by her knees and grasp.   “Exactly” Jenassa chimed in. “And if that’s not enough to convince you, you can always think this is the only way to make me join your crazy cause. Take one for the team, laddie… Oh…!” She undid his underwear, freeing his limp, but still impressive dick. “Azura…” She looked up, her and Aza’s eyes met.   “What did I tell you?” The Redguard smiled with pride as if it were her own cock.   “It’s… It’s…” The mercenary was at a loss of words. It was huge, but somehow also incredibly shapely. Although, she had to make it fully stand up at attention to be sure.   “What?” Erik stared down at his groin, ceasing his fidgeting for a moment. “Yeah, that’s mine. What, too small for you?” He asked, feeling his cheeks go red. His defensive tone only proved he had no idea how well equipped he was.   “Is he some kind of idiot?” Jenassa couldn’t believe what she was hearing.   “No, he was sheltered by his daddy like a prized virgin.” Aza explained, finally letting his wrists go. Seeing that Erik calmed down, she proceeded to undo his armored jacket.   “What are you crazy women talking about?” He wanted to know.   “You’ve never told him, sera?” The Dunmer ignored him.   “No, I wanted to keep the last shred of his innocence for as long as possible. And I fear his manly ego would swell from it.”   “Tell him!” Jen insisted.   “Tell me what?!”   “Erik…” Aza bend forward a bit, her nipples tickled his forehead. “You have a big cock. Not just big, huge.”   “I… I do?” He asked with disbelief. So, that’s why she always avoided the subject!   “Yes, you do” Aza sighed deeply. He already lost his brains. Men!   “Sweet!” He stared at his slowly hardening member in awe.   “See, this is exactly what I feared!” Aza slapped herself on the forehead.   “How big is it exactly?” He wanted to know. “Like, the biggest you’ve ever… Ow! Ow! Ow!” he whimpered as his partner pulled his ear painfully hard.   “You can be proud of yourself. But don’t get cocky! Having a huge shlong isn’t enough, you have to have technique as well!”   “I second that.” The elf shyly stroked the thick shaft. “You can have a penis as big as Malacath himself, but if that’s all you have to offer…”   “You’ll never truly satisfy a woman. And with that monster, you’ll only end up hurting her.” Aza warned.   “Thankfully, we know what we’re doing.” Jenassa rested her cheek on his thigh.   “Okay… Fine, I won’t lie, I want you two she-dremoras.” He said slowly, as Aza undid his shirt and was now stroking his bare chest. “I am but a mortal man with simple needs…”   He reached and pushed the Redguard’s head lower. Her tongue slid into his mouth and grinded against his palate. He could feel with his own the sleek underside of her tongue. Meanwhile, the Dunmer started landing quick, gentle kisses on his slowly hardening shaft. She reached for his sack, felling his red hairs under her palm. She looked up at the two kissing with sudden spite. She hated feeling ignored in bed.   “And what about me?” She complained, squeezing his testicles. Thankfully, she wasn’t too rough.   “Well, don’t be shy.” Aza encouraged.   “Come here” Erik pulled Jenassa up, her hands rested on his chest. He noticed some of her war paint rubbed off.   She pounced suddenly, her little sharp tongue assaulted his mouth. To his surprise, her saliva was slightly spicy, elves were nothing he had ever experienced before. As she was on top of him, her small perky tits rested on his torso. He enjoyed struggling with her mouth, his tongue against hers, whilst his hands wandered her body, from shoulders, to the slim waist and small ass. She had the body of a healthy Nord teen, though she could be anything between a few decades and centuries old. Her hot moist slit glided up and down his member, leaving a glossy trail on his foreskin.   Aza slowly slid from under him, so that he could rest his head on the furs. Erik struggled out of his jacket and shirt, still kissing Jenassa. The usually cold amazon cooed softly. The Redguard crawled to his legs and helped him lose his pants and boots, then spanked the elf, feeling a short flash of satisfaction, as the red-eyed bitch suddenly gasped. She took his cock in her firm grasp and stroked energetically, then took it in her mouth to the limits. She realized she was feeling a bit jealous. But there was no turning back now, and she’d sooner die than become one of those overly-attached women. He was young and free, he had to have his fun.   “Think you can fit it to the very base?” He asked the elf as they broke their kiss for air.   “Are you doubting me?” Jenassa could never back down a challenge.   “That I am.” He admitted before biting her neck. Her skin was dry and hot, though softer than a human female’s.   Meanwhile, Aza pulled his now ready dick out of her mouth, her drool streamed down to the base. Erik grabbed the elf’s shapely ass and pulled back. Aza directed his pointed cap at the elf’s entrance and slid it up and down, from the clit to the trembling hole. She wanted to tease that elven wretch a bit before letting her fuck her boy. No, not her boy, her man. Oh, damn it!   “Erik, lay her on her back.” Aza instructed, rubbing her thumb against his frenulum.   “But I like it here!” Jenassa protested, enjoying Erik’s teeth marking her neck and ears.   “You think you can hoard all the fun and give nothing in return?” The heroine teased, then pinched her behind. “As he works you, you’re going to be busy eating my pussy.”   “You make it sound like some sort of unpleasant task.” The elf purred.   “That’s more like it, slut.”   “You say the nicest things…”   When Jen obediently rested on her back, with Erik between her knees and Aza straddled above her face, doubt crossed her mind. That thing was really thick! And he was still a rookie, did he actually know how to use that? With a big cock comes big responsibility, after all.   “Take it slow.” Aza must have read her mind, as she stroked the elf’s cheek and patiently instructed the young Nord.   “I want to lick her first.” He said, his voice was calm and low. He had no intention of simply following instructions.   “Ah! Damn, she taught you well!” The elf cried, as slid his hands under her ass and pulled up. The amazon bent back, her palms digging into the furs for support. Upside-down, she could see Aza fingering herself with a pleased smile.   “Told you I gave him a few lessons.” She boasted, giving the elf her wet fingers to lick.   Jenassa didn’t hesitate. She bit her fingers, as Erik was working her pussy with his mouth, showing no sign of weariness, still lifting her ass in the air. His stubble teased her hairless skin as he made her melt under his tongue. The elf sensed that although still inexperienced, he could give her some simple, carefree fun. She was so fired up, that her pussy started leaking; a few drops fell on his lap. His member twitched impatiently, yearning to be shoved into the elf’s little cunt.   “I think you had enough” he said, laying her down, still feeling her exotic spicy taste in his mouth.   “You’ll be screaming like a Winged Twilight” Aza assured, shifting to have the Dunmer’s head rest on her lap. She massaged the round, gray breasts, encircling the pointy dark nipples. She could feel the mercenary’s frantic heartbeat. “Nervous?” She inquired with a sweet smile.   “Why should I be?” Jenassa refuted, as the young stud was gliding his cap against her vulva. Gods, this was going to be a rough ride. “Damn, I didn’t get the chance to give him a good deep-throat!” She complained.   “You’d gag.”   “I can take him!”   “Do you mind? I’m trying to focus.” He sighed, resting his palms on the amazon’s bent knees.   He pushed the first inch with some effort. With every next, her resistance grew. She was so tight, that it made him hurt as well.   “Azura, he’s going to tear me in half!” She cried when he was halfway through. Her muscles were strained, her chest heaved.   “Want me to stop?” He asked concerned.   “No!” They yelled at him unison.   “I will never understand women.” He resumed, getting deeper and deeper, ignoring her dramatic fidgeting.   The elf bit her lip, tightly shutting her eyes. When his glans met with her cervix, she felt she couldn’t breathe.   “Tight, isn’t she?” Aza inquired, rubbing Jen’s sweaty belly. She pressed her hand firmer, feeling how full the mercenary was.   “Very” he agreed, feeling the pressure of her walls closing on his cock.   As he started to rhythmically pound the tight pussy, the Redguard squirmed from under her. A second later, her curved ass almost smothered the elf’s face.   “Get busy.” Aza ordered.   She rocked her hips back and forth, feeling the hireling’s sharp tongue tease her lips and clit. Her eyes were sent on him, though.   “You are a fiend!” He grunted, thrusting with effort. He was going to have his member grazed, he didn’t want to think how Jenassa would end up tomorrow.   “Sometimes.” She agreed somewhat embarrassed. He was enjoying it, but she could sense his anger as well.   “You’ll drive me insane one day!” Erik foretold, cupping her heavy breasts. He fought the urge to squeeze them painfully. Wretch, she knew how to get on his nerves, and yet he couldn’t say no.   “Depends how much you’re willing to submit.” She tried to deflect the suddenly tensing atmosphere with a joke.   “A lot.” His look was dead serious. He had to say it. He didn’t want to, but he had to.   Jenassa had no interest in hearing such emotional nonsense. She was there as well, damn it! She grabbed the Redguard’s ass-cheeks and pulled her closer, her tongue entering the human with a slippery sound.   “Looks like she’s feeling left out.” Erik joked, seeing the slim gray waist quiver on the bear hide.   “Fuck her harder, then.” Aza advised, enjoying her pussy licked with such zeal. It was true what they said about Dunmer promiscuity.   The gloves were off. He got a better grip on the elf’s pronounced hipbones and ignoring how her pussy clenched, he roughly shoved his meat to the bare limits. Jenassa screamed, her spine arched.   “Stop dramatizing, you love it!” Aza pinched her gray tits with amusement. She looked at him. “Go harder.”   He had that alarming spark in his eyes, but she trusted he won’t lose it. He plunged harder, ripping screams and cries from the Dunmer. Yet, she still didn’t fight.   “Stop! Stop! I’m almost there!” She begged from under the Redguard. She was feeling him with painful intensity, but she didn’t want to end the game so early. “Slow down!”   Erik gave Aza a confused look.   “Ignore her.” She said calmly. “She’ll be fine.”   He said nothing, but licked his fingers, then rubbed the pale pink clit between the blue labials.   “Good thinking” his partner praised, smiling as Jenassa sunk her nails into her rear. The elf was going to come soon. “How are you holding up?”   “Close” he grunted, giving the elf’s clit a rough pinch.   “If she comes too soon, you’re mine.” Aza’s exposed her white teeth like a hungry animal.   “Bitch! Bastard! I’m coming! Oh, I hate you two!” Jen wailed, feeling a painful convulsion in her womb. She stiffened, spouting curses and crying as Erik had no intention of slowing down. She came loudly, just like she used to, losing all her pride and dignity to the two self-proclaimed heroes.   “Slowly now, let her enjoy the last moments.” Aza whispered softly, resting her head on his shoulder. His smell almost made her drunk.   Erik slowed down, enjoying the elven vagina spasm and slowly go numb. He was almost there himself, but he had a nasty idea brewing.   “Suck me until I come, okay?” He purred into Aza’s ear, quietly enough so the elf’s sensitive ears wouldn’t hear.   “With pleasure.”   She laid on the amazon. Jen was a mess; her face was wet from tears, saliva and the Redguard’s juice. Her war paint was completely gone, her hair disheveled. She was still crying a bit, pleased and embarrassed. She faintly realized she’s going to be hurting in the morning.   Aza stroked her beloved cock with tenderness, then smoothly took the whole thing in her mouth. His and the Dunmer’s flavors mixed and melted on her tongue, as she sucked vigorously. Erik smirked, observing the scarred woman moan and slurp above the whimpering and crying elf. The sweaty curves and soft angles of the two were glimmering with perspiration. Their smell was intoxicating.   “Hey” he rubbed Aza behind the ear. “Pull out, I’m almost there.” His teeth clenched. She knew what he was up to.   She quickly dashed away. Erik grabbed his cock and with a few quick strokes came, generously showering Jenassa. The worn out amazon yelped weakly in protest, but Aza restrained her, laughing and keeping in place until Erik was done.   “So, who’s the wimp now?” He asked, shaking off the last drops of sperm on the humiliated elf.   “I hate you two so much…” Jenassa shuttered, unable to move. She felt swollen and torn inside, her skin burned. But she loved it, even though it further embarrassed her.   “Well, I hate to be an attention whore, but I’m not done yet.” Aza was the only one who hadn’t come today.   “I can still keep it up for a while.” Erik offered, laying on his back. He was tired and sleepy, but he could endure a bit longer. Though, he could use a drink. Lo and behold, a stray bottle was within arm’s reach.   His partner reverse-mounted him, whilst he indulged in his drink. The mercenary was still passively laying and sobbing.   “Hey! You’re going to act like a drama queen for the rest of the evening?” Aza nagged, rolling her eyes. “Get over here, we’re not done with you yet!”   Jen crawled up to them and licked the Redguard’s clit whilst she rode her Nord stud.   “You said something about stamina potions?” The elf remembered.   “Yeah, we have a few.” Aza confirmed between sighs and groans.   “Good. I want a rematch.” The crimson eyes were burning. “After I get some sleep” she added.   “Sure thing!” The Hammerfell harlot laughed. “Now use that tongue for something more productive, will you?”   A few moments later she came with a loud, victorious cry. She collapsed on her partner, who patiently rubbed her belly, pleased to feel her twist and convulse. After the numbingly sweet moment passed, she rolled off him and took the half-emptied bottle from him with relief. Though the wine was cheap and warm, it tasted wonderfully.   “You two look so good together it makes my gut hurt.” The elf noted with a mocking smile.   “I think something else hurt your guts today. Drink!” Aza ordered, passing her the bottle.   “Bite me” she refuted, accepting it.   Erik was silent; he fell asleep after the taxing day.   “Figures…” They both sighed.   They emptied the bottle in silence. Then, although it was barely early evening, they laid at both his sides and tried to sleep.   “Sera?”   “Hm?” Aza muttered, halfway to Dreamland.   “He doesn’t snore.” The Dark Elf noticed.   “Nope, he doesn’t.”   ---   Though they had their weapons handy, the night went without any disturbance. As elves needed little sleep, Jenassa was the first to wake up. Although Erik’s fully-erect dick might have beat her to it.   “Azura” she sighed, seeing the grazed, but hard shaft; the head was flashy red. ‘Look what you did to me, bitch!’ it seemed to signal.   “Yeah he does that.” Aza muttered, rubbing her eyes.   “Does he ever get enough?”   “We can test that out if you’d like” the adventurer proposed with a disturbing gleam in her good eye.   ---   Erik mumbled something incoherent in his sleep. He could hear strange sucking noises and warmth down on his crotch. He opened his eyes and cleared his throat. He almost choked on saliva when he saw the source of the commotion.   Who else but Aza and Jenassa? The two wenches were busy working hic cock, their tongues played with his balls as well. As they noticed him, their lips firmly slid from each side of the base, to the very tip. Loudly, they kissed and teased his glans. Gods, he was a lucky man!   “Good-morning-wood!” Aza laughed. “Slept well?”   “Uh-oh.” He could only shutter.   “Good. Now rise and shine! Someone has to fuck us!” She demanded.   She pushed Jenassa and laid on her, their wet waiting cunts beckoned him. The elf’s was red, not pink, but she seemed eager for more abuse.   “You’re going to kill me if you keep that up.” He sighed, kneeling behind them. He slid the tip between them, feeling their wet and hot slits tremble.   “Do me first!” The Dunmer pleaded.   “No me!” The Redguard demanded.   “Calm down, we have time.” He assured, getting to work.   ---   It was early in the afternoon. The two sluts were napping allowing Erik to sneak out of the tent with relief. He gave it to them in the morning, then just before noon, and then fingered them until they shut up and left him alone. His back ached, his pelvis was creaking, his cock burning.   The horses were where he left them. He opened the sacks with fresh fodder for them, then feebly hunched to the stream. He dunked his head in the cold water, feeling immediate relief in the coolness. He resurfaced with an and angry roar. Women! Gods, pa was right when he said what devious creatures they were! What was he, a piece of meat for them to devour?! He dunked again and remained underwater for a longer moment.   Did she cheat on him? No, he had no grounds to demand she be faithful to him. Or did he? Damn, this was confusing. The threesome was amazing, and elves so intriguing. But enough was enough! He pulled his head from under the water and was immediately crushed in a tight embrace. The cursed sluts followed him where he sought solace!   “Gods… no!” He begged tiredly.   “Would you look at him!” Jenassa puffed. “As if we’re hurting him or something.”   “I’m too tired…” he tried to protest.   “We have stamina potions.” Aza reminded, biting his ear.   “No, my whole dick is burned!”   “We have salve as well” she whispered into his ear.   “No!” He suddenly snapped. He bolted away and tried to make a run for it. But the swift and agile elf quickly caught up to his pace and tripped him over. He landed face-first on the grass with a surprised groan. Aza followed, sitting on his back with a mad laugh.   “Get to the tent like a good boy” She advised, slapping his ass. “Or we’ll have to hurt you.”   “No way!” He refused.   “Let him have his way, sera!” Jenassa was the picture of health, despite having her hole and throat painfully stretched. “It’s even better to do it outdoors!”   The horses were indifferent, grazing on the juicy grass and bland fodder as curses and laughs flew across the hill.

Chapter 7 - First Scars

“Oh, would you quit your bitching? Come on, stop being such a brat!”   “I’m not bitching. I just hate it when you toy with me like that.” Erik replied, blowing a strand of hair from his brow.   It was late in the afternoon. They arrived to Ivarstead to investigate the supposedly haunted burrow near the edge of town. As it turned out, the ‘ghost’ that haunted the ancient halls was a fraud. After dealing with him and reporting back to the local inn, they were rewarded with an old dragon claw ornament. The trinket seemed useless, but after revisiting the burrow the next day it revealed itself to be a key to the draugr-infested inner sanctum. Thankfully, the two heroes managed to work their way through the undead hordes and thoroughly explore the ancient tomb. The main chamber contained little loot, but there was also an ancient Word Wall present. Aza ignored it, claiming ancient Nord wisdom was of no use for someone like her. Regardless, it was his first raided tomb! This glorious deed brightened Erik’s mood a bit.   “Where to now?” He asked, as they lounged on the porch of the inn, basking in the morning sun.   “East. Maybe Riften. We’ll see how it goes from there.” Aza said with a yawn. “It’s been smooth so far, eh?” She asked with a wink.   “What do you mean?”   “We take simple jobs, sleep and eat at inns, things carry out as planned… And you’re still in one piece, not even a scratch.”   “You’ve got to be kidding!” Erik snarked, presenting his bruised forearm. The bruises and scratches on his face were almost gone, but he still remembered the beating he got ‘for his own good’.   “Kid, that’s nothing, believe me.” She dismissed nonchalantly. “It’s time to get going while it’s still bright.” She ushered.   “You’re the boss.” Erik agreed amiably, as they left the porch and walked down the road.   “Damned straight!” She laughed, slamming her fists against her hips.   “My Gods, is that you?” Someone called out from behind them.   They turned around. The source of the voice was a young, beaming girl. It was Fastred. Erik’s heart stopped beating for a moment. He had the irrational certainty she knew.   “Looking good Fastred!” Aza greeted the girl with a heartily smile so unusual for her. “How goes it?”   “You hadn’t heard? Klimmek and I got married!” She revealed with a big smile. “I’m a bit upset you didn’t show up at the ceremony.”   “Oh, you know… I can be hard to find at times.” Aza excused herself. “By the way, this is Erik. He’s shadowing me.”   “You’re lucky to be with her!” Fastred turned to the lad, still smiling. “She got me and my husband together, you know.”   “I’m happy for the both of you.” Erik shuttered, unable to look her in the eyes. That nice face of hers… He saw her cherry lips suck her man’s cock with sheer delight. He knew what she looked like underneath those plain clothes. He saw her huge tits drip with cum.   “I wanted to leave Ivarstead, but she convinced me staying in a small town wasn’t so bad.”   “Really?” Erik was surprised hearing so many good things about his companion.   “Well, this is nice and all, but we really ought to get going.” Aza interrupted the slowly blooming conversation. “It was nice to see you again Fastred, give my regards to the family!” She bid the girl, quickly pushing Erik down the road.   “If you ever find yourself in Ivarstead don’t hesitate to stop by!” The lass called after them.   “Good thing we got out of there. For a moment I thought blood was going to gush from those flushed cheeks of yours.” She scoffed as they got out of earshot.   “You told her to stay in that village? Why?”   “Because unlike you, she had a reason to stay.” She replied, knowing well why Erik asked such a question. “What now?” She asked displeased, seeing a wide, dumb grin appear on his face.   “You did something nice for someone!” Erik sang mockingly. “You did and don’t you try to deny it!”   “Erik, you have exactly one second to wipe that stupid grin off your face before I do it for you.” She threatened in a voice that would make a Dremora soil itself.   ---   Keeping a slow but steady pace, they reached the south bank of Lake Geir. Dragonflies buzzed in the air, their metallic wings were mere blurs in the clear air. The road up ahead was passing what seemed to be an old, broken down tower.   “Damn, old abandoned towers like that one are a perfect hidey-hole for…”   “Bandits!” A man cried out, rushing towards them. “Please, I’ve been robbed by bandits!”   “Slow down, tell us what happened.” Aza ordered before Erik had a chance to utter a single word. Bandits… That’s a real challenge!   “My name is Telrav” the man explained briefly, nervously looking over his shoulder. “I’m a travelling merchant. I was on my way to Shor’s Stone when my caravan got sacked by bandits. They made their nest in that old tower, Nilheim they call it. Please! My life’s work had fallen into their hands!” He begged, falling to his knees.   Erik turned his eyes to Aza. She was smiling strangely… feral. She gave him a quick glance and winked.   “Well, if you’d be willing to share some of that life’s work with us for our help…”   “Of course!” Telrav sprang up with surprising speed. “Zenithar bless you! I’ll take you to them, quickly!” He urged, rushing forward.   “He’s not a merchant and he’s leading us straight into a bandit ambush.” She said quietly, still gnashing her astonishingly white teeth.   “How…?”   “Erik” she cut him off, briefly touching his shoulder, “you’re going to kill your first man today or die yourself. Brace yourself.”   The whelp nodded and followed her, as they walked straight into a trap.   ---   He didn’t kill his first man that day. The first sentient being he’d slain was a Mer, a Wood Elf. Erik plunged his axe into the Bosmer’s shoulder, slashing him from collarbone to hip before the bandit even had a chance to draw his bow.   His second opponent was a Nord himself. Whilst he tried to bash him with his shield, Erik dashed and got behind him. He struck from above, aiming for the top of the head. The bandit’s skull broke with a gruesome sound, tiny pieces of bone and brain flew in all directions. The bandit fell to the ground still convulsing.   “Fall back, there’s too many of them!” Aza yelled, finishing off an Orc who almost bashed her skull with his mace. “Come on, back to the lake!” She commanded, pulling her sword out of the bloodied chest.   Erik dodged an incoming arrow and ran as fast as he could, followed by taunts and curses. People were far tougher than beasts and draugr. And far scarier.   “I got two!” He shouted surprised, as they rushed to the bank.   “I’ll congratulate you later! Come on, it’s not worth the risk!” She ushered, jumping over a rock.   “What about Telrav?”   “I cut that lying face of his!” In the slowly setting sun Aza’s blind eye shone insanely. “You want to check up on him? DAMN IT!” She shrieked as they were forced to halt. The side of the lake they found themselves at was a waterfall. A dead end. They were cornered.   “What now?” Erik’s voice didn’t shake unlike his hands. The chase was over, they had to fight for their lives or risk a long fall.   “You got two, I got three. I saw five more, including the chief. Telrav isn’t a threat, but there are six of them.” Suddenly, she realized one crucial detail. “And they’re all men.” She smiled tiredly, now knowing what to do.   “What are you talking about?! We jump or we fight!” He called, clenching his fists.   “No” she thought, “you jump. I… I’ll do my best.”   “What’s wrong with you? Come on!” He urged, pulling her arm.   Aza looked over the cliff. It was a long fall, but the water below seemed deep enough. There were rocks directly under the waterfall, so the force of the shove should be hard. Unrelenting.   “Aza!” He cried out. “Snap out of it! What do we do, jump or fight??”   She put her hands on his shoulders and gazed into his sincere face. It was fun having him around for those few days. She’ll miss that dumb farm boy with stars in his eyes. But she promised his father she’ll look after him. And if he stayed, he’d want to fight to the end. The only chance of survival was to get separated.   “Stay safe Erik.” She said, quickly kissing him on the cheek. She made one step backward and took a deep breath.   “What? No! You’re not ruling me out! I won’t…!”   “Fus… RO DAH!” She shouted. But it wasn’t her low, hoarse voice. It was something else. Its force threw Erik over the cliff like a ragdoll. He cried out her name and a curse before slamming into the water below.   The Redguard turned to face the approaching bandits. A Khajiit, two Nords and one Orc. The chief was not with them, he probably didn’t bother with the pursuit. Same was with Telrav. She cast her weapons aside and put her hands behind her head.   “Take me to your leader!” Her voice was as carefree as a Sundas morning.   ---   His mouth and nose were filled with water. He had no idea where was the surface and where the bottom. He struggled to get a hold of something, anything that would help him get out of the current. The Divines aided him with a trunk of a broken down tree. He latched onto it and managed to crawl to the shore. Still on all fours, he coughed up water. He then crawled a few meters, still coughing and trying to gather his bearings. When his vision focused, he arose. He hadn’t broken anything, but he was still dizzy. He still felt the echo of the waterfall in his head, or perhaps it was… whatever she shouted at him. His axe was gone, so was his purse.   He brushed his hair off his face, his braids were undone, but he paid no mind. If anyone who knew him could see him now, they wouldn’t believe that the man with burning eyes and tightly shut lips was the same young and cheerful Erik. The person who crawled out of the water was preoccupied with one thing only – murder. The thought of retreat didn’t cross his mind for even a second. That bitch! When it got too hot, she got rid of him like he was some annoying child! She was now either dead or the bandits’ plaything. But speculation was pointless, he had to get back there and kill every single one of them. And if she’s alive by the time he’s done with them, he’s going to make her sorry.   “Bitch, you better be alive when I get my hands on you, because I’m going to kill you!” He roared climbing the steep, winding path leading up to Nilheim. Despite the rage blazing inside him, he knew he was as good as dead if he tried the direct approach. Not to mention he was unarmed. He had to play it smart.   ---   “How long will the boss be busy with that slut? I got the itch like Oblivion itself!” One of the Nords nagged.   “The boss will let you have your fun once he’s done with her” the Khajiit purred. “But first he will share her with Telrav. And then, she’s this one’s playmate.” The cat’s amber eyes narrowed as he drifted away to dreamland. His long, rough tongue licked his teeth, as he imagined the sounds the human female would make when he uses it on her.   “I’m not touching any ass you might have used, alley cat!”   Before the Nord and Khajiit could tear each other’s throats out, the Orc hit his fist against the table. The four of them were waiting for their turn with the captured slut, as they kept a lookout at the bottom of the tower. It was already dark, the chief was busy with her for over an hour. But before they handled her over, they gave her a quick beating to docile her up a bit. And while they were at it, they got her to suck their sweaty cocks and swallow their loads with a sword at her throat in case she hesitates. She didn’t.   “If anyone gets their turn next, it’s going to be me! And if any of you idiots got a problem with that we can always… Where are you going?!” He grunted, seeing as the other Nord, the archer of the band, was about to leave.   “Gotta take a leak.” He muttered with a yawn.   “Hurry up, this will be a long night.”   The archer wandered away from the torchlit side of the camp. He sunk into the tall bushes and unfastened his pants with relief. Before the first drops reached the ground, his head was grabbed from behind. With a sharp, violent pull Erik broke his neck, instantly reuniting the bandit with his ancestors. Quietly, he searched the body. Aside from the bow and an almost empty quiver, he found a decent steel dagger. Those will have to do for now.   He crept up to the edge of the shrubbery. From there, he had a clear shot on any of the remaining three. The Orc was the most obvious choice, but as he noticed a heavy oil lamp hanging from a branch above the table, he got a better idea. He drew an arrow, holding his breath. Crops were never a problem in Rorikstead, but meat was more difficult to obtain, especially during winter. When there wasn’t much to do, father would let him take his old long bow and hunt for rabbits. Erik wasn’t a sharpshooter, but he seldom returned empty handed.   “Surprise” he whispered releasing the arrow. The dart cut the cool night air and struck the lamp. It hit the center of the table, spraying fire and sizzling oil in all directions. The Khajiit’s fur instantly went ablaze, the cat cried in pain and ran towards what he thought was the lake. Shielding his eyes from the flames, he couldn’t see a solid tree blocking his path. He clashed against the trunk, losing consciousness only to get choked by the smoke.   “Come out!” The Orc called, pulling out his axe. The remaining Nord armed himself with two short swords. “Must be the little hero!” He mocked, slowly approaching the bushy wall. “Came after his nanny, did we?”   Another arrow shot from between the branches, missing the Orc.   “There he is!” The Nord rushed towards Erik’s position. A second later, he fell dead with an arrow sticking from out of his eye. Erik cast the now useless bow aside. There was only the Orc remaining.   “Thanks, kid! The less of these idiots alive, the more of your stuff for me!” The Orsimer taunted, slowly retreating. He had time, it’s the whelp that’s going to have to come to him.   He sat on a nearby barrel, surveying the field around him. The pup tried to play it smart, eh? “When the chief and his toady are done with her, I’m going to plough her like no one had ever before!” He laughed, gnashing his bestial incisors. He sensed movement behind him just in time to dodge. The dagger struck the barrel’s lid instead of his back.   “Well now, look at you! Almost had me there!” The Orc whistled impressed.” And what are you going to do with that little knife, hm? Give me a shave?” He taunted.   “Nope” the young Nord’s eyes had a cold, cruel glow. “It’s just for slowing you down.”   He kicked dirt straight into the Orc’s face. As the bandit staggered back, he plunged the dagger into his chest. He knew he had no chance of defeating him with simple tricks. He didn’t even bother with checking if the dagger found any vital spots. He rushed to his kinsman’s corpse for the swords. As he pried them from the previous wielder’s hands, his instinct told him to roll to the ground. He did so, avoiding a close encounter with the orichalcum axe.   “I’m going to drink from your skull!” The Orc groaned, with bloodshot eyes. The dagger was sticking from his bare chest, bleeding steadily. Erik knew his only chance was to keep dodging and wait for the green-skinned titan to make a mistake.   “You’re already dead, so stop squirming!” The Orc called, trying to land a hit on the swift lad. Erik seized opportunity and cut his thigh in one clean swipe. Blood gushed from the severed artery. The bandit roared savagely. He was going berserk, Erik had little time left.   “Are you going to use that axe, or should I wait for the bleeding to do the job for me?” He asked, narrowing his clear blue eyes.   The Orsimer roared, foam dripped form his mouth. He raised his muscular arms, tightly clenching his weapon. The attack was intended to be powerful, but too slow. Erik leapt towards him, the swords plunged into the Orc’s chest and abdomen. Blood and more foam shot from the Orsimer’s mouth as he released the axe, the gruesome weapon plunged into the ground. But he didn’t collapse. His huge, green hands grabbed Erik by the wrists, pulling him closer and jamming the blades deeper. His beastly eyes gazed into his with pure hate, his nails cutting the lad’s wrists.   “So much risk for a whore who gave in without…” the outlaw choked on his own blood. He released Erik’s wrists, falling over with a contemptuous look on his savage face.   The field was the site of his victory. But the fight was not over yet, he still had a tower to climb. He took the gruesome axe, too bad the dagger broke off and the weapon was now useless. Never mind, just two more to go.   He crossed the stone bridge and approached the tower, listening in on any activity. He heard nothing. He suddenly recalled a fairytale about a brave knight, who went to rescue the fair princess imprisoned in a tower by some vile, evil creature. Right…   The staircase was illuminated by torches. After passing a few steps, he was temporarily blinded by the contrast. That was his mistake. He felt burning pain on his left cheek and neck. Staggering back, he managed to block the next attack aimed at his throat. Telrav. His head was covered in bandages, save for his mouth and one eye. Blood was soaking through the rags. Blood was also on his iron dagger. Erik’s blood.   “You…” they both hissed.   There was no time for dramatic speeches or taunts. Erik attacked first. He pinned the bandit scum to the wall with the axe’s handle pressing against his throat and wrists. Telrav drooled intensely, his grip on the dagger loosened, the blade fell on the steps with a hollowed sound. But the youngster had no intention of strangling him. He plunged his knee into Telrav’s gut and stepped back. The fraud fell to knees coughing.   “She blew me!” He said, laughing hysterically. “She blew all of us before the boss got his hands on her! We didn’t even have to ask!” With a chuckle he raised his head. His eye widened when he saw the axe heading straight for his neck. His head fell down the steps, followed by blood slithering lazily like a macabre red carpet.   Erik spat on Telrav’s twitching body, his saliva was thick and metallic. Only the chief was left. He had a feeling that the door to the top of the tower would be locked. He also had a feeling, that the key was on Telrav’s headless body. He wasn’t mistaken. He climbed the stairs as quietly as he could, paying no mind to his bleeding face and neck, faintly realizing he was going to have a scar… If he lives long enough for the wound to heal.   “You call this a fuck?” He heard a pained scream as he was almost at the top. “I had Bretons do me harder!”   Aza. Still alive.   “Keep talking sister, and I’ll gag you and have my boys heat up the tools.” The chief’s voice had that deep tone so typical for Redguards.   “You’re going to have to kill me, you know? Because I’m going to tear you a new one!” She promised with her throat tight.   “It’s going to be a waste of such a fine piece of ass, but life’s life.” He laughed. Erik picked up pace.   “Fuck you!” She yelled futilely.   “Damn, did you kiss your boy with that mouth?”   Erik clenched his teeth, feeling another wave of rage flooding his mind. He shoved the key brutally into its hole and kicked the door open.   ---   It was bad, but she had it worse. The four bastards manhandled her a bit, then made her blow them and swallow, before dragging to Nilheim. There, she had the pleasure of kicking Telrav in the family jewels as he was undoing his pants. From there the chief took her upstairs. He gave her another beating to act as foreplay. Nothing severe, just enough to work out his frustration and show who’s boss. He had no imagination when it came to beating and abusing her, and for that she was grateful. She met a lot of sick bastards who were full of ideas when it came to torture and rape. Thankfully, her captors were at the level of punches, kicks and monotonous pounding with their dicks, until they came with an embarrassing squeal. Though she had it far worse in the past, it was still painful and humiliating, but not enough to break her. She just had to endure, hoping that after they’re done with her, she’ll have a chance to escape. Robbed and beaten, but alive. And she hoped they won’t want to keep her as a twisted ‘pet’ or take any souvenirs, like a finger, ear or nipple…   She prayed Erik survived the fall. If he did, he should be far away by now, far away to be safe. It was the least she could do for him. Pity, Erik was showing promise. And it was fun to have him tag along, if not for his amusing company, then to observe how he was learning about the world outside of Rorikstead. Guess his last lesson was more than he’d bargain for.   “What’s the matter? Too soft for you?” The head bandit asked, thrusting harder.   He was sitting on a solid tall chair that could easily pass up as a throne. She was sitting on his laps, with her wrists and ankles hogtied behind her back. The leather strips binding her were rough and tight, biting into her flesh. Her palms and knees were grazed. Her tits and neck were covered with bitemarks and bruises. The scratches on her back and palm prints on her ass, painted an ugly picture.   “You call this a fuck?” She screamed through the pain. “I had Bretons do me harder!”   “Keep talking sister, and I’ll gag you and have my boys heat up the tools.” He threatened amused, shoving his meat even harder.   His penis was short, but incredibly thick, with a blunt, bulbous cap. It painfully yanked her jaw, almost dislocating it. Then it wrecked her pussy and asshole. And the bastard just kept coming, filling her insides with more and more of his undesired jizz.   “You’re going to have to kill me, you know? Because I’m going to tear you a new one!” She promised with her throat tight.   “It’s going to be a waste of such a fine piece of ass, but life’s life.” He laughed.   “Fuck you!” She yelled. In return, he slapped her across her swollen face. There was no use in fooling herself, they wouldn’t just let her go. She had to wait for them to lower their guard. Or die trying.   “Damn, did you kiss your boy with that mouth?”   She’s going to bite him. She’s going to chew his face off! If they’re going to kill her, at least she’s going to give them a god reason to!   The door was forced open by a kick. A blood and gore covered wraith entered, yielding an axe. Fresh red drops dripped from the blade. The embodiment of carnage had fury written all over its face. Even if Aza’s good eye wasn’t blackened and swollen, she would have trouble recognizing the barbarian who busted into the room. But it was Erik.   “I am not a boy” he said slowly through clenched teeth. His voice was of a man who walked a dark path, killing anyone who got in his way. And he wasn’t done yet.   Before the chief realized what was going on, Aza gathered all her remaining strength and headbutted him, breaking his nose and front teeth.   “What are you waiting for?!” She cried, bending backwards as far as she could.   Erik reached the throne in three long leaps and took a wide, powerful swing. His upper body twisted, his arms launched the axe straight at the head bandit’s throat. The wide orichalcum blade flew above Aza’s face and severed the head from the shoulders, jamming into the thick wooden backrest. Erik released the handle, the axe remained in place, with the Redguard chiefman’s head resting on it like a gruesome dish on a plate.   He killed them. All six of them. And she was still alive, so he could… Gods, her face… What did they do to her?! A minute before he was furious with her, ready to walk into Oblivion and back just to get his hands on her. But seeing her beaten, abused and violated instantly snapped him back to reality. She was still bending backwards, not wanting to meet with the axe or the bloodied head. She released a pathetic groan as fresh cum leaked from within her, onto the dead man’s lap and floor. The moment he died, the chief came one last spasm.   “By the Nine…” Erik whispered in his normal voice. He untied her and helped her on her feet, as she was too weak to stand straight. The dead man’s cock popped out of her with a disgusting sound. She pushed Erik away and hobbled to the window. Bending over the frame she vomited loudly. Her abdomen convulsed, more vile fluids leaked out from her, marking her legs and floor.   “Aza…”   “What are you doing here?!” She gravely asked, facing him. He didn’t expect her to be thankful, but he didn’t think she’ll be this infuriated either.   “I came to get back at them. And to get you back.” He said quietly.   “That was stupid. It’s a miracle you’re alive. And who do you take me for? I know what I’m doing. I am not a damsel in distress, you damned…” she coughed hoarsely, falling to the sticky floor.   “And who do you take me for?” He asked, kneeling next to her, trying his best not to do anything abrupt. “I’m treating this whole thing seriously and you get rid of me like a pest!”   “I saved your life, you ungrateful brat!” She was too tired to shout.   “And I came back for you!”   “Oh, the brave hero rescues his…”   “You’re not mine!” He interrupted her tirade. “Why would I even want someone like you? You’re a whore and a brute, but…” His voice suddenly softened. He wasn’t angry with her anymore. He felt too much pity. “But you got me out of Rorikstead. And you took care of me. I owe you. And damn it, I’m loyal to you, doesn’t that matter anything?” He asked, bending forward to get a better look at her beaten face. Her green eye was barely visible through the swollen eyelids.   “It does.” She agreed quietly. “I’d never travel with someone who wouldn’t watch my back. Help me up.”   He let her wrap her arms around his neck and support herself. The effort was too great for her, she hissed, biting her already bloody lips.   “Aza…” he whispered, holding her tighter. He wanted to do something to ease her pain. A bit at least.   “If you say something that’s supposed to comfort me, I’ll hurt you.” She muttered, looking away. “I told you I had this happen to me before. It’s nothing.”   “It is!”   “No, Erik!” She wheezed, but managed not to cough anymore. “This shit can happen. They beat me and fucked me. But they didn’t break me. I’m alive, the wounds will soon heal. I’m not anyone’s slave, and I hadn’t been crippled for life. Believe me, there are far worse things that they could do to me. I know, because I had things so messed up happen to me, that…” she suddenly felt tired “… that would turn a lesser woman into a mindless shell.” She walked up to the throne and picked the Redguard bastard’s head by his long dreadlocks. “There are people far more evil and twisted than this pathetic fuck. Trust me.” She said calmly, throwing the head into the fireplace. “Damn it, I can barely see a thing…” She sighed, pressing her palms to her eyes.   “They paid for what they did to you. All of them.” Erik swore, realizing his face was still bleeding. But it was barely noticeable under the thick coat of bandit blood and bits of flesh he didn’t want to identify. He even got some on Aza when he was holding her tight.   “You’re going to have a scar.” She foretold sadly. “Pity. You had such a sweet face.”   “Don’t mind me, it’s no big deal.” He brushed her concern off.   “Did you really get all of them?”   “All five.” He admitted with a nod. For a second the cold gleam returned, but was quickly dulled by the sympathy in his eyes.   “I’ll be at the lake. I got to wash them off me.” She said tiredly. “Take anything there is of value, we need the money.”   “Are you sure you don’t need my help?” He offered, seeing as she was feebly heading towards the door.   “I have to do this alone. Loot them to your heart’s content, then join me. You look like a damned madman.” She said, leaving the scene.   She didn’t bother with getting dressed, as her armor was ripped into pieces. The loss of it hurt her more than her own wounds and pride. There was only one forge in all of Skyrim that could make ancient Nord armor. The Skyforge in Whiterun. And there were no plans of visiting Whiterun hold in the nearest future.   At the bottom of the stairs was another headless corpse. Telrav. That brat… he acted like a man. He came back, and the very flames of Oblivion had no fury like his. She saw him like this before, in the shed. When he was pushed to the limits he wasn’t himself. When he snapped, he was… destructive, but managed to think and calculate in a cold, measured way. This was both a blessing and a curse. She should keep an eye on his darker side less it takes over the good in him.   She got out of that cursed tower and for a moment couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The dead Orc with three bleeding wounds, the Nord with an arrow sticking out of his eye, and the badly burned body of what she could only assume was a Khajiit. As she was tearing through the bushes she caught a glimpse of Erik’s final victim. The Nord archer’s head was unnaturally twisted, the youngster snapped his neck like a twig.   If someone told her Erik could wreck carnage like that, she would laugh in their face. His sincere, friendly disposition gave no hint he could kill with such… precision. Not like berserkers who mindlessly tore their foes apart, but with merciless cunning.   “Malacath’s fat cock…” She whispered horrified. He did all of this! Did he do it for her, or to satisfy his hunger for revenge? No matter. She needed a bath. She walked into the cold, clear water and submersed herself in it.   ---   The chief had gold, lots of it. Enough to buy a good warhorse. And aside from the gold, there were also trinkets, a few jewels and good quality clothes. Erik realized that the bandits’ procedure must have been ongoing for quite some time. How many people have they lured here and killed? How many women became their victims? He didn’t want to know. All that mattered was that Aza was alive and they could get going.   He glimpsed at the head smoldering in the fireplace. Funny, the morbid sight hadn’t bothered him even the slightest bit. He didn’t feel twisted joy, but wasn’t disturbed either. He had no idea what to make of that.   He found Aza’s gear. Her armor was damaged beyond repair. But her sword and dagger were in perfect condition. Same was with a small sack containing her personal belongings. He packed everything he could carry into sacks and went down the staircase. He passed Telrav’s body not paying it the slightest thought. He was aware of it, but didn’t care. The same was with the rest of the bandit corpses. He just wanted to get out of there.   “Get over here.” Aza called out to him from the lake.    He left the loot on the sand and walked into the water without stripping out of his armor. He dived and resurfaced, feeling his face itch, but the cold provided him some relief. He looked at her. She was eying him with unfamiliar concern.   “Did you take a good look at what you did?” She asked.   “Yes.”   “What do you make of it?”   “I remember everything I did. I’m not proud of it. But I regret nothing” he confessed. “They deserved it.”   “Why?” She didn’t make the slightest move.   “They were preying on innocent people. They wanted to kill us.” He now realized why she pushed him off the cliff. “If I staid, they’d kill me and use you anyway. Then… They’d know you’d want revenge, so they’d have to kill you. You got rid of me because that gave us at least a slight chance.”   “Exactly.”   “But I want you to know something.” Under the water, his hands closed on her shoulders. “We’re in this together. If you pull off another stunt like that, for my good or not… I’m going to find you.”   “I know.” She said in all seriousness.   They got back to the shore. Aza was now walking with more confidence, but it still cost her a lot of strain.   “I got your weapons back. But your armor is of no use anymore.” Erik said, watching if she was about to collapse.   “Pity. Well… there’s a good smith in Riften, we should head out now. What’d you find?”   “Treasure.”   “Don’t joke around.”   “I’m telling the truth.” He said, opening the sacks.   “Damn!” She exclaimed, going through them. The loot was at least some compensation.   “And there’s gold. This should get us on your feet. And get you some new armor.”   “Are you going to make me your kept woman?” She joked, carefully sitting on the sand.   “Only if you ask me nicely.”   “Fuck you, Erik.”   He gave her a plain, brown tunic and a healing potion he’d found. She drank it slowly, trying to plan what to do now. She insisted that he use the rest of the mixture to take care of his wound. The cut closed, but was still visible. A scar was inevitable.   “Come on.” She said, adjusting her weapons. “We got a lot of distance to cover.”   “Can you walk?”   “Gods damn it, you’re taking this worse than I am. Come on! I need to visit an alchemist, a healer and get some decent rest. And some booze.” She enumerated, already growing annoyed. Erik was relieved to hear the familiar unpleasant tone.   He had to make sure they got to Riften safely. There was one thing bothering him, but this wasn’t the time to ask. How was she able to shout him off a cliff?

Chapter 1 - Magic vs Science

The Techno-Sorceress Ourania Thousandmoon lay on her massive sex bed, idly fingering herself. She watched her two servants make love. Katie 8.0(K80 for short) was pressed facedown in a lacy pillow. Exercise-ball breasts spilled out from underneath her torso, wobbling with each thrust as the bound succubus Rhelvyn Redskull plowed her fat synthetic ass with a spiked red horse-cock. Rhelvyn's claw-like fingers dug into Katie's chrome-white waist. She snarled under her breath, humping like a beast in heat. Ourania touched herself as an enchanted notepad recorded her observations. When Ourania came gently, Rhelvyn stopped thrusting. She grunted, "Master? Are you satisfied?" Ourania laughed, "No. Keep going." "This tin can doesn't even feel it! I'm wasting my energy." "Roll over. It's her turn." Rhelvyn had no choice but to comply. She lay on her back and Katie shifted into a sitting position, "Big talk from a glob of magic." Rhelvyn looked at Ourania, "You just programmed her to say that!" "I'm programmed to think for myself, thank you." Katie tensed her body. Machinery inside her torso hummed to life, and her breasts retracted from their superhuman size to a more practical F cup. Meanwhile, a panel on her stomach opened to reveal a dick of her own. Rhelvyn pouted, "Can't I fuck you master?" Ourania said, "You'll get your chance." Rhelvyn rolled her eyes. As Katie shifted into position, Rhelvyn's fingers were drawn to that stomach panel. It was sealed now, and the penis looked as natural as if it had been there all along. If Rhelvyn hadn't seen the mechanism with her own eyes, she would have called it a trick. Her fingers hunted for some kind of imperfection. Katie purred, "You like my stomach, do you?" "There's barely even a seam." Katie shifted Rhelvyn's cock out of the way and guided her own to the lips of Rhelvyn's pussy, "I'm state of the art. Precision engineering beats primitive superstition any day." Rhelvyn looked at Ourania again, "Did you build this thing just to bully me? I'm a sex demon! I'm here to fuck you-" Katie pushed her dick into Rhelvyn's tight pussy. Rhelvyn gasped. Katie whispered, "She built me to fuck," She leaned close and planted a kiss on Rhelvyn's left breast. Rhelvyn moaned, and turned it into purr, "bring it on, tin can." Katie replied, "There was an 86% chance you'd say that." Ourania watched as Katie and Rhelvyn settled into a rhythm. They ground against each other like horny teenagers, writhing and sucking and pawing at each other's bombshell bodies. Ourania observed, idly fingering herself while her mind focused on other things. Rhelvyn gasped in Katie's ear, "I *haaa* have *aaa* an idea." Katie stopped pounding and rolled her eyes, "What?" "There's two of us, and only one of her." "I won't let you hurt her." "Aw come on. I just wanna give her some real good data." "What are you implying?" "We dp her, you stupid robot." Ourania grunted, "Hmm? Whatever are you two whispering about?" Katie said, "This demon is trying to slip out of her contract. I think she needs to be disciplined."

Chapter 1 - Repayment

Asher slipped back in to the brothel and found Portia in the sitting room that doubled as the brothel's reception area. "Portia?" he said, looking about inquiringly. "Did you take care of Jesus?" Portia looked up with a smug smile. "Oh, I think he's being taken care of right now. Let me just go check." She stood up, gathered her robe, and padded softly down the hallway to one of the brothel's larger rooms. She poked her head around the doorway and grinned at what she saw. Jesus was flat on his back on the bed, eyes closed, legs spread apart. Caius, a Roman centurion, was just climbing on to the bed, massive cock shaft in hand. Caius grabbed Jesus under the knees, spread Jesus' legs further apart and pushed them up against Jesus' chest as he crawled on top of him. He placed the tip of his dick against Jesus' virgin asshole and slowly began to slide it in, eliciting a moan from Jesus. More and more of the Roman's cock disappeared into Jesus' ass, until the entire 9'' shaft was buried in his bowels. The Roman's heavy ballsack rested firmly against Jesus' ass. Caius slid his cock out until just the tip still remained in Jesus and then slowly pushed himself back in until his thick meat was once again filling his innards. He repeated this maneuver a few times. Then the Roman's assault on Jesus' dignity and sanctity began in earnest as he started fucking the holy man vigorously. Involuntarily, Jesus' legs wrapped around Caius' thighs, fingers digging into the bed, as Caius set into a steady rhythm of pounding Jesus' ass. Caius' hen-egg sized testicles slapped repeatedly against Jesus' asscheeks as Caius found his pace. Caius leaned forward, crushing Jesus' painfully erect cock and grinding it between their stomachs as they fucked. Portia looked on with satisfaction. Caius had been one of her longest and most well-paying customers and his taste in sexual partners knew no limits. She could tell the Roman was enjoying his new fucktoy's virgin hole. Her hand slipped into her robe, and her fingers found her wet pussy. She began fingering herself, watching the Roman have his way with the supposed prophet. "Fffuuuhhg... ahhhhg... uhhhh" Only the smallest of grunts and moans escaped from Christ. Caius straightened up and started pounding Jesus faster. Jesus' erect cock flopped back and forth impotently, dripping pre-cum betraying his arousal. Every time Caius bottomed out, he squashed Jesus' balls slightly against his taut stomach. Not that Jesus minded, lost in pleasure as he is. Jesus reached for his cock, trying to give himself some relief only for Caius to slap his hand away. Portia took a step into the room to get a closer look. She might have been imagining it, but she swore she saw the outline of Caius' dick sliding back and forth in Jesus' abdomen. Jesus opened his eyes as Caius pulled himself from out of the depths of his insides and quickly straddled his chest. Portia saw that Caius was on the verge of exploding. Without the dick filling his ass, Jesus finally came to his senses. "No, please....I came to save..." Caius ignored this and Jesus felt him grip his head tight and hold him steady as he jerked his cock in front of Jesus' face. Jesus' vision filled with the sight of enormous Roman cockmeat, only inches from his mouth. Portia saw Caius' balls start to twitch and constrict. Jesus' eyes widened. "Nooo-!" "Unnnnhhhh!" With a grunt, Caius released and began spraying Jesus' face with ropes of cum. Blast after blast of cum geysered from his full sack plastering Christ's eyes, mouth, cheeks. He let go of his cock, which now had a mind of its own, shooting spurt after spurt of hot seed onto Jesus, covering nearly every inch of him. Jesus could only close his eyes and take it, feeling the warm jism spatter on him, staining his soul forever. Grabbing his cock again, Caius thrust his rod into Jesus' mouth and with a spasm, let go one final shot, filling the holy throat with jizz. Portia orgasmed at the same time, cumming all over her fingers. As soon as he was finished, he quickly climbed off of Jesus and dressed himself. He walked directly over to Portia, still trembling from her own orgasm and handed her thirty pieces of silver. "Keep him around." he said "I know some legionnaires that would like a crack at that ass." With that, Caius marched out. Portia looked over at Jesus, still lying on his back on the bed, with curiosity. How would this so-called holy man, a virgin only a few short hours ago, handle this experience, getting a blowjob from a whore and a thorough fucking from a huge Roman cock? As Portia watched, Jesus' hands slid slowly, almost reluctantly, down to his crotch, where his still-erect penis stood, no worse for wear after Caius' rough treatment, pointing heavenward. Portia broke out in a huge smile as she watched Jesus, slowly, and for what was obviously the first time in his life, begin to jack off. Jesus' right hand slid up and down his shaft while his left played with his balls. Pre-cum oozed out of the tip of his cock, lubricating the shaft. It wasn't long before his hand was a blur, jerking off wildly, giving himself completely over to sin. Portia laughed to herself, watching Jesus masturbate with such enthusiasm. He groaned and thrust his hips up and came, shooting ribbon after ribbon of cum over his chest, where it mixed with Caius' slowly drying load. Portia was impressed with the amount of jism Jesus' balls held -not nearly as much as Caius, but still a large load. Portia heard a rumble of thunder outside which, just for a moment, sounded like infernal laughter and triumph.

Chapter 0 - Why she asked me to bimbofy her

My girlfriend is a genius. Mad scientist, polymath, sometimes I think she can do anything. She's also staggeringly horny. It's like, the bigger her brain gets, the more room there is for sexy thoughts. Last week, I was woken up by two of her blowing me at the same time while a third brought me breakfast in bed. Sounds good, right? Turns out, she'd accidentally left her cloning machine running all night, and the house was filled with horny duplicates. They were mostly responsible and intelligent, but /one/ of her is chaotic enough. Dozens of her started feeding off each other's energy, and by mid morning they had blown a hole in the kitchen trying to turn the fridge into a sex robot. I had to rescue her from the basement, where she'd been gangbanging herself for hours. Turns out, the only way to banish the clones was to nut inside every single one of them. No idea how that works, but I'm not the mad scientist that made them. Needless to say, I was a bit dehydrated afterwards. I passed out from all the cum I'd had to shoot inside the clones, but luckily, I'd sorted out enough of them that she was able to banish the remaining ones herself with some sort of advanced swiss-army mecha-strapon she'd been saving for a rainy day. As an apology, and to make sure I was prepared if something like that happened again, she swore to enhance my dick and give me superhuman endurance. As much as I enjoyed getting to participate in her experiments, I can't say I enjoyed having my penis grow out of control and burst through the wall of her laboratory. I was trapped under its girth for what felt like hours, but she says managed to undo the growth effect just before my bus-sized dong drowned the neighborhood in cum, and I trust her. I admit, I wasn't really aware of what was going on for most of the incident, just collapsed under waves of sensation. To clean up all the cum, she'd built an interdimensional vacuum thingy that just slurped it all into a portal to the X-Dimension. The portal worked fine. There weren't any weird side effects or anything. We went out for burgers to celebrate. Unfortunately, when we got home, Tiger Amazons from the X-Dimension had claimed our house in the name of their queen. They kidnapped us, and charged us with opening a portal in their throne room and jizzblasting the entire royal court. We escaped with the help of a tentacle monster named Thark that apparently owed my girlfriend a favor. That is to say, this all lead up to this morning, where I found a note, and a little bottle on the kitchen table(newly rebuilt by yours truly, I might add). The note said, basically, She's tired of all the chaos her inventions cause, and wants someone else to take the wheel for a little while. Naturally, she solves this problem with yet another invention. A serum of bimbofication, and she wants me to sneak it into her food sometime soon. I guess the adventure with the amazons really shook her. She doesn't even trust herself to administer her own inventions. I'm sure I can help her take a break from thinking too hard about stuff. Well, here goes nothing.

Chapter 1 - The First Kiss (and the hot sex that led up to it)

Stella didn't take me up to her room like I'd expected. She led me down to the basement, practically bouncing down the stairs she was so full of energy. The floor was covered in blankets and cushions. When the door shut at the bottom of the stairs, she turned to me. "So," she said, "Are you ready for this?" You know what I said? I was still in "Stella is my sports buddy" mode, so I said "Holy shit dude." Stella unbuttoned her shorts. i'd seen her changing in the locker room plenty of times, but this was different. So much more charged. "Well, tonight is special. Tonight is the start of breeding season, silly." She stood there in silk panties and a T-shirt. I reached out, and put my arms around her waist. when my skin brushed against her, she shivered. I pulled the shirt up over her head, but not off. An idea crawled into my head. I left her with her arms up in the air, and put my arms around her waist again. With her head inside the shirt, she couldn't see what I was doing. I purred, "You've been a very naughty girl." And I scooped her up. One arm under her back, and one under long tanned legs. She squeaked in surprise. I carried her to the largest heap of cushions. I laid her down, gently, and stroked her toned stomach. she shivered. I whispered to her, from just the other side of the t-shirt, "Setting me up like this. I hope you haven't promised your sisters too much. You know I can't fuck a whole warren of rabbits. I'll just have to give it all to you." She giggled, in her usual confident tone, which kind of ruined my whole 'seductive dom' thing, and said, "Gimme your best shot." I tried to seductively undo her bra, but after fumbling with it for a long moment, she said, "Do you want me to take it off?" I nodded, but then I realized she couldn't see through the shirt and said, "yeah." She removed the shirt, and the bra, and cupped her tits in a hand bra. I had never seen her face look so... hopeful? embarassed? a little of both? She said, "Your turn!" I undid my belt, and as I was sliding my pants off, Stella barked at someone behind us, "Hey! Wait your turn! I haven't even gotten started yet!" I turned around to see Clover standing at the bottom of the stairs with a big cardboard box. She said, "I brought some supplies!" Stella powerwalked across to her sister and said, "Give it here! Go back up and wait your turn!" Clover did, and Stella shut and locked the door behind her. I turned to her and said, "Stella? Seriously though, you're all gorgeous, but you know humans don't have the stamina that bunnies do. There's no way I can actually last long enough to fuck your whole family." Stella smirked. She set down the box and said, "Don't worry about that, dude, check this out." She picked a bottle out from the various things inside, and tossed it to me. It was a bottle of some sort of jelly lube. "I can help you apply it." I lay back in the heap of pillows in only my boxers, and she approached me. My dick was already at full mast, barely staying inside my boxers. She knelt in front of me, and said, "go on, put it on your dick," I twisted around, trying to awkwardly remove my boxers while still laying down. I got them down around my thighs, and she pounced. Her hand darted in and pulled out my cock. It was like something had come over her. She grabbed the lube from where I'd dropped it, and spread a glop on her hand. I was still a little nervous, "What does it do?" She got on real close. I could feel her breath on the tip of my cock when she looked up at me with her big dark eyes and said, "It's just a little something Clover whipped up. Should keep you going." My cock wasn't yet inside her mouth. She spread the jelly liberally along it. She'd touched me when she pulled it out, but I guess, as she moved her hand along it, and felt me tense in her grasp, she must have realized how big it was. I'm not freakishly huge, like some people. Not to toot my own horn, but it does clock in at eight and a half inches, even when I'm soft. I watched as her eyes went wide. I shivered as the jelly began to take effect. Before our eyes, it tensed, and a wave of pleasure spread through me as it grew another inch, I nearly came right there, "Is ... is it gonna keep growing?" "No," she said, "That's just to show it's working." She kissed the tip of my dick, and I did cum. My dick spasmed as I blew my load into my best friend's mouth. She kept her lips sealed around the tip, and when it was over, she smiled, "Alright! We're in business," with my cum running down her chin. I wiped it away with a finger, and before I could react, she licked my finger clean. That got me rock hard again immediately, or maybe it was the stamina jelly stuff. Stella pushed closer to me, toppling me backwards into the mound of pillows. She straddled me. Nothing but her silk panties separated my cock from her pussy. She ground her hips on mine, sliding along my shaft. She gazed into my eyes. I gazed into hers, both of us lost in the moment. Two parallel fantasies playing out. both of us waiting for the dream logic to guide us to the next step. I moved into a sitting position. She moaned into my ear, and moved her panties to the side, "Please, fuck me full of babies. It's all I want. I think it's all I've ever wanted." I flexed my hips, brushing my cock head along her waiting labia. I looked down at the point of contact. Between Stella's legs, I caught sight of Flopsy, standing in the now open doorway, fingering herself through striped panties. She noticed me notice her, and made a 'shush' gesture with her free hand, followed by a thumbs up. Stella's breasts hung right in my face, and I planted a kiss on the gap between them. She moaned for me, "Johnny." I moaned for her, "Stella?" She looked down at me, "Quit delaying and fucking breed me!" I couldn't turn down a request like that. She reached down and used one hand to ease herself onto my cock. So many emotions, so many thoughts, so much, well, the whole history of our relatioship flooded through my mind. A dam broke, and I grabbed her hips, my fingers squeezing into her cute round ass as I thrust up into her. She let out an undignified "oof" as my cock slammed home. She collapsed onto me. Her breasts aren't enormous, but they're more than enough to lost in. I started to settle into a rhythm. She moaned quietly at first, but then "Slow down," I slowed down, "Right there. That spot," she said. I moved my hips under her gently, and slowly. I looked into her eyes, and she was starting to breathe faster. Her face was red, and her eyes were locked on mine. She whispered between thrusts, "I'm - al - most - there - keep - going - just - like - that" Her whole midsection tensed, pulling my dick in like a vise. We came together. My balls tensed. Her hips shivered. I shot inside of her and she collapsed on top of me, eyes closed, riding waves of sensation. Her face was sweaty, and she lay limp on top of me for a moment. She opened her eyes and looked into mine. She asked me, in the most deadpan voice, "You still owe me a first kiss before the others get down her." She cracked a smile, and I kissed her on it.

Chapter 0 - View from the Cross

Jesus groaned and opened his eyes as a thud vibrated through his body. The cross settled into place at the brow of a hill along the road outside of Jerusalem. A sharp pain radiated through his wrists and ankles. He slowly shook his head as the painful memory came flooding back -the trial, the whipping...the crucifixion. His last memory was screaming when the first nail went into his wrist. He must have blacked out, but it couldn't have been for long. He looked around at the scene before him. In front of him, on the boulder-strewn hillside, a small crowd gathered at a distance to see the latest batch of executions. Several Roman soldiers had their backs to the cross in a strung out semicircular wall, keeping the crowd from getting too close. Another soldier, looking bored after having settled Jesus's cross into place, walked back and stood behind the loose his compatriots, watching for any trouble. Jesus looked to either side. Some distance away were other crosses. The man to his left had his head down and eyes closed. The man to his right stared straight up and seemed oblivious to everything around him. As Jesus watched, a petite figure fought through the crowd right up to one of the soldiers. Her blue shawl gave her away instantly. Jesus, too far away to hear, watched as his mother, Mary, argued intensely with a soldier, gesturing at Jesus. He was shaking his head emphatically. She turned away and slipped back through the crowd, appearing to have lost the argument. What the soldier did not see (but Jesus could, from his elevated perch) was that Mary was simply taking another path to him. She sneaked past the semicircle and began walking quickly toward Jesus's cross. Before she got too far, however, the bored soldier grabbed her from behind. Another inaudible argument ensued as Mary squirmed in the soldier's grasp. Jesus watched powerlessly as his Mary's face went from angry to pleading. She pointed up at Jesus again. The soldier looked at her, then looked at Jesus. He shrugged his shoulders and spoke briefly, seeming to acquiesce to Mary's demand. He let her go and she began to move toward Jesus again. The soldier again grabbed her from behind and pointed downwards -no farther than here. Mary turned in the soldier's grasp to face Jesus. Anguish and sorrow was written across her face. Jesus looked at his mother, full of compassion. The soldier, in the meantime, had not let Mary out of his grip. As Jesus watched, his hands settled loosely around her waist. So intent was Mary on her son, that she did not notice when the soldier's left hand slid down to her shapely thigh and began rubbing it in small circles. Jesus could only watch wordlessly. Surely this soldier would never attempt such a thing with the crowds present? As Jesus looked desperately for someone to notice, he saw that the other soldiers had pushed the crowd back, effectively shielding Mary's molestation. Slowly, the soldier's hand began rubbing higher and higher on her thigh. It was as his hand reached into her robe and stroked her bare skin that Mary reacted, turning sharply and smacking at his hand; she said something to which he grinned, but Jesus noticed that he was still rubbing his hand in small circles on her leg. Over the space of ten minutes he edged his hand further upwards until he was almost touching Mary's crotch. As his hand slid up and sideways to come to rest directly over Mary's pussy, her thighs shut around his hand and she snapped her head around to look at him. He simply laughed at the uncomfortable look on her face. Mary turned to look back at Jesus (did he see shame on her face?) and slowly her legs relaxed a little, not much, but enough for the soldier to start sliding his hand up and down on her slit. Jesus watched as Mary's legs parted a little wider and the soldier's hand move more firmly underneath her robe. Before long he was pressing hard enough for her to give a little wriggle as his fingers wandered along her slit. As the minutes passed the soldier grew even bolder, his hand would rub at one particular spot for a space of time before moving on to another spot then moving back to the first spot. There was no doubt at all that his actions were exciting Mary, even from the cross, Jesus could see the dampness of her pussy juices soaking through robe. Then the soldier took things a step further, slipping a finger into her obviously wet hole. Mary gave a little start, looked the guy in the eyes then said something to him, his reply was accompanied by a wave of his free hand at the crowd, seeming to indicate that no one would see. Mary looked around desperately, but at the same time, letting her legs open a little further. The soldier laughed and slipped another finger into her. Jesus knew he was finger-fucking her using two fingers. Then he leaned over and said something close to Mary's ear, she turned her head and looked at him as though he were crazy, her lips clearly forming the word 'no', pointing up at Jesus. The soldier looked directly at Jesus and chuckled. Jesus could see that Mary was getting more excited, her eyelids flickering as small bursts of pleasure washed over her from the actions of soldier's fingers. Before long he could see that she was hovering on the edge of an orgasm and was biting her lip to hold back the cries of bliss that were bubbling in her throat, as the soldier leaned over and spoke to her again. Whatever he was asking of her Mary replied in the negative again, only this time with a lot less conviction and when he spoke again a few minutes later her response was barely a shake of the head. With the patience of a cat at a mouse-hole the soldier carried on fingering her pussy, his pace seemed to have slowed and Jesus realized that he was keeping her hovering on the edge of an orgasm until she agreed to whatever it was he was asking her to do. That agreement came only minutes later, as Mary squirmed and leaned back into the soldier breathing heavily. The soldier spoke again and her head came up and she looked at him through eyes glazed with excitement. He repeated his words and Mary nodded her head in weak agreement. Using his free hand, the soldier worked his belt loose, letting the bottom part of his armor fall at his feet. His erection was clearly visible to Jesus, the soldier's long thick rod throbbing in the afternoon sun, hen egg sized testicles hanging fatly below. The soldier lifted Mary's robe as he pushed her forward, causing her to bend at the waist. Hefting his massive cock with one hand and holding Mary steady with the other, he pushed the tip of his meat against her pussy. Jesus could see his mother groaning in obvious ecstasy as the Roman soldier slid his fat dick into her. Inch by fleshy inch slowly disappeared into Mary's petite frame as Jesus watched helplessly. The soldier slid his hands up Mary's robe, groping her large tits as he took her virginity. Finally, the victory was complete. The soldier had successfully stuffed his cock into the former virgin Mary's pussy, his balls pressed up tightly against her cunt. He was not moving in her, however, just standing motionless. Mary looked back in excited anger. He said something and her eyes widened. She shook her head, the soldier spoke again and she shook her head again. Jesus could see her face clearly and there were tears bubbling up in her eyes, she looked desperate. The soldier laughed and ended with what looked to be 'do it'. Mary faced Jesus again, looked down shamefacedly and then slowly raised herself on his cock. Jesus felt a moment of relief thinking that she had come to her senses and was getting off the soldier's huge dick, but that relief turned to a gasp of dismay when Mary reversed direction and slid down on his meat again. As she began to rise and fall on his cock, Jesus felt true despair. The soldier was virtually raping Mary yet he was somehow getting her to do all the work. He stood with a look of triumph on his face as Mary began to fuck him in earnest. After a few minutes of letting Mary fuck herself on his thick appendage, the soldier grasped her around the waist and began to fuck her in earnest, the thrusts coming harder and faster. Jesus could seeing him grunting from the effort as he rammed Mary from behind. Jesus could not tear his gaze away as the soldier's huge balls slapped against Mary rhythmically. Mary was moving in rhythm with him, eyes closed, clearly orgasming from the large pagan cock inside of her pussy. Soon, the soldier was pounding Mary like a jackrabbit, his hips almost a blur. He threw his head back and thrust into Mary as deeply as he could and froze. At that moment, Jesus knew the Roman was pumping his thick load deep inside Mary's formerly holy womb. The orgasm seemed to go on for an eternity, jet after jet of cum, until finally the soldier pulled out, spent. His thick cock, already softening, flopped heavily between his legs. Mary stood with her eyes closed, trembling from the thorough fucking she just received. The soldier looked up at Jesus with an evil grin on his face. Jesus hung his head in shame. When Jesus opened his eyes a moment later, he saw the soldier still looking up at him. However, the soldier was not looking at Jesus directly. His gaze had drifted lower. Jesus realized with a start that his body had reacted to the graphic fuck scene that had played out in front of him. Even hanging from the cross, the tent in the front of his loincloth was obvious to see. The soldier shook Mary by the shoulder briefly and pointed up at Jesus, saying something. Mary's gaze followed the soldier's gesture and her eyes widened at Jesus's obvious erection. The soldier said something else and Mary shook her head, trying to back away. The soldier stepped closer to her, placing his hand on her pussy again, rubbing it gently. Mary's eyelids lowered and soon she was nodding in agreement as she humped his fingers. Without removing his hand, the soldier called out to another nearby guard. The guard wandered over and stopped short at the sight of the half-naked Jewish woman in front of him. The soldier gave some sort of command and the other guard nodded and walked away. He came back shortly with a small ladder. The soldier took Mary by the hand along with the ladder to the foot of Jesus's cross. Without saying a word, he set up the ladder and gestured to Mary. Without looking Jesus in the eye, Mary climbed the three steps until she was eye-level with his cock. She wordlessly began to remove his loincloth. Jesus groaned in protest. Mary removed the final layer of cloth and gasped with delight as Jesus's dick sprang free. Reaching out a small hand, she grasped Jesus's penis. While nowhere near as thick as the Roman cock, her petite hands only barely encircled his dick. Looking up at Jesus, Mary said softly "I'm sorry." With that, she slowly began to stroke him. Jesus couldn't believe his mother actually was jacking him off. With her other hand, Mary lifted and tenderly squeezed her son's balls. Mary took his penis into her ravenous mouth. Jesus's exhausted muscles tensed as he saw and felt his mother's pretty little mouth on his cock. Mary took in more of the shaft, rubbing the big head against the roof of her mouth. Mary pressed her son's great cockhead against the back of her throat and pushed her face forward, taking him into her throat. Jesus watched in amazed despair as his penis disappeared into his mother's esophagus. Jesus couldn't hold out any longer. He grunted deeply and began to ejaculate. Sperm sprayed in thick white cables high into the air and splashed down on his mother's upturned face and hair. Mary aimed his cockmeat into her hungry mouth. Semen splattered against the back of her throat, quickly coating the entire inside of her mouth. She swallowed her son's seed, loving the salty taste and the feel of the warm cock -cream oozing slowly down her throat and into her belly. Jesus watched Mary greedily suck down his jism, her lips, nose and chin completely coated with it. Sperm ran down her neck and splashed onto her boobs and shoulders. At last, he stopped ejaculating. Mary shamelessly cleaned her son's cock with her mouth, sucking down every drop. Mary looked up at Jesus one last time, almost unrecognizable under the thick lines of cum on her face. She climbed down from the ladder, where the soldier was waiting for her. The last time Jesus saw his mother, she was being led off to the other guards, who were eagerly jacking off in anticipation.

Chapter 1 - Toying With Him

The fear of pregnancy is a relatively new fear. Barely as old as civilization. Viviparous reproduction is ancient, but the fear of it, the recognition that it can change the course of one's life, is younger. The fear of pregnancy could not emerge without a certain kind of human society. Loss of Control, however, is truly ancient. Trilobites understood what it means to be powerless. To scuttle under a rock, only to have the rock torn away by a predator. Makima is an old, old devil. The pregnancy devil is a man, of course. he is not ugly, but not beautiful either. He takes a woman for his own, and it all the more horrible for the fact that they probably could have done better. He binds women to him; reduces them to an extension of himself. He is a fool. She is naked, on top of him. He has already cum once inside of her. He thinks he has won, but he does not understand the game being played. She leans down, ever so sweetly, and whispers in his ear, "Again." He can't help but oblige. He grabs her by the hips, and begins to thrust. She purrs into the fold of his neck. She bites him in just the right way and sends him over the edge. "Again," she says. Again. Again. Soon they reach the limit where mortal bodies would have failed, where human balls would have started shooting blanks. Makima is not pregnant. She could be, if she wished to, but she does not. He is not chained to the bed. He could give up any time he wished. When he cums again, she rolls off of him. "Your turn," she says. He mounts her, and ruts in her five more times like a dog. Evening passes into night and her expression does not change a single time. A small part of him fears she will never be his, but he cannot go against his nature. Makima whispers to him, "Show me your real face." He obeys. His human flesh warps. His limbs branch into a forest of tentacles. His body twists into a bloated parody of a pregnant stomach. He is exquisitely terrible to behold. She is worse. She lies back, and welcomes him into her body. With arms wrapped around her, twisting into every crevice, teasing her nipples and exploring her lips, he hopes again, to break her. Limbs trade off positions, fondling her ass, her clit, everything she has, to overwhelm her. He has broken lesser devils with this assault, but she seems bored. Her face is inscrutable. She squeezes load after load of cum out of him. The first pink rays of dawn sneak into the window. She is slick and a little bloated. She climbs out from his forest of tentacles. Makima wipes her face on his discarded shirt and yawns. She kisses him sweetly on his central mass. "That was lovely," she says, "but I have work." By the time she has showered and squeezed all his cum out of herself and left, he is once again a small man in a cheap suit.

Chapter 0 - A Weird Morning

The four of us are sitting around the kitchen table in our flat. There's myself, Johnny; my girlfriend Tarah; another identical me; and another identical Tarah. We've calmed down after the initial discovery, and now we're eating cold cereal in silence, waiting for the coffee pot to warm up. Well, 'calmed down' probably isn't the right word. Maybe 'pretending it's not real'. No one's really sure what to do now, but we definitely agree it's the sort of thing that should get handled after we have some coffee. For one thing, the rental agreement doesn't cover two extra people showing up overnight. Not to mention the metaphysical questions. We don't even know who the originals are. We have the same dirt under our fingernails from work yesterday, and we're wearing the same ratty old t-shirt I went to sleep in. (He went to sleep in? I kind of hope I'm the original).  The coffee pot beeps. Me and... The Other Johnny... stand up at the same time to get it. We each make identical 'go ahead' gestures to the other one. We chuckle, in perfect unison. I don't like that. He's closer to the coffee pot, so he says, "I got the coffee, would you get out mugs?" We have a few extra mugs, for guests. Problem is, there's only one of Tarah's favorite mug. I look at it, not fully awake, or wanting to acknowledge the problem. The Tarah I woke up spooning says, 'babe?' I turn to her and announce, "bad news, Tarah. Uh, Tarahs. We only have one of your boat mug." The Tarahs look at each other. They both smile and say to each other, "Go ahead, you take it." They both laugh, and I'm reminded, in stereo, of why I fell in love with her. I'm standing there holding her mug, when the one nearer to me reaches out and takes it from me. She sets it between them. The Tarah across the table from me says, "Ah, thank you! But go ahead, you can use it. You're a guest? Or, you're the owner of it, or something? Maybe? I don't know." Other Me pours coffee for everyone. his shirt lifts up as he raises the coffee pot, and my eyes catch on the scar just above his hip. It's the same one I have. I don't know why I'm surprised. My eyes follow it until he lowers his arms, and the shirt covers it again. I catch the nearer Tarah watching him the same way I am. We both smile. Once we finish our cereal, and we're all starting to really wake up when I say, "So, what are the chances this is just a bad dream?" Nearer Tarah (I'll call her Tarah 1) says, "I don't know if it's a bad one, but this has to be a dream, right?" The Tarah across the table (Tarah 2) says, "people don't just, what, do mitosis overnight? This has to be a dream." Other Me, "I dunno. That coffee's pretty hot. If this was a dream, I think I'd have woken up already." Tarah 2 says, "Well, hmm. If this isn't a dream, should we be leaving for work soon?" I say, "I dunno about you, but if two of me show up to work, I'm gonna get some funny questions." Tarah 1 chuckles awkwardly, "So, should we call in sick? this has to count as a family emergency or something, right?" Tarah 2 says, "I think we should call in sick." Other me says, "So you don't think this is a dream, either?" Tarah 1 says, "usually my dreams are much weirder than this." I say, "weirder than two extra copies of us showing up in our bed overnight?" Tarah 1 looks at the other two. She takes a moment to compose herself and says, "Fuck it. You doppelgangers seem like nice enough people." She gestures at Tarah 2 and I, then hesitates, "These last few years have been crazy. Just one more thing not making sense on top of everything else, am I right?" Tarah 2 laughs bleakly. Other Me says, "Wait, hold on. You think those two are the doppelgangers?" I protest, "Wait! I'm a real boy!" Tarah 1 says, puzzled, "so, uh, who do you think are the doppelgangers?" Tarah 2 says, "...You two woke up spooning each other, just like how we fell asleep. It's gotta be you two," She points at Tarah 1 and I. Other Me says, "Do you think there's a chance that, like, none of us is the original?" I chime in, "One of you Tarahs mentioned mitosis earlier. Maybe we're each made of half of the original?" Other Me says, "Yeah, Wait, Tarah, you didn't really think you were a duplicate, did you?" Tarah 2 says, "I kinda don't wanna think about it," Tarah 1 says, "Yeah." I grab Tarah 1's hand under the table, "babe, please don't worry. I'm sure we'll figure this out." Tarah 1 says, "Okay, now we really do need to call in." A little later, I'm fielding some E-mails on the couch. (Turns out you still get Urgent Work Emails when you're stuck in some kind of existential magical realism scenario) when one of the Tarahs leans over the back of it and says, "When you're done with that, I've got an idea." I close the laptop and turn to face her, "I was just finishing. What's up?" She says, "So I was thinking..." She gets a mischevious twinkle in her eye, "You know how I'd mentioned I wanted to do a threesome?" I look at her. I'm not sure what emotion is playing across my face, "...Why bring this up now?" She playfully bops me on the forehead, "You were so worried about whether a threesome counted as cheating, but now's our chance! There's two of me, and two of you! We could do a foursome without recruiting anyone else!" That gives me pause. I had been thinking about this in terms of the teleporter problem and the ship of theseus, but Tarah had skipped right over that. "Hmm," I delay, the wheels in my head jumping onto a totally new track, "...are the other two are cool with it?" She laughs, "They're us, silly! I talked to Tarah and she said she was gonna ask the other Johnny the same question!" An idea forms. I say, half joking, and half dreading the answer "You're not secretly a witch are you? Is all this your doing?" Tarah looks at me, face blank in confusion. "What? No! No." She's a very bad liar. She was absolutely not expecting that question. I don't believe in magic(okay, as of yesterday I didn't believe in magic, but, you know, things are happening). I'm kind of relieved she's not a secret witch, but I'm also a little disappointed that she's not about to explain what's going on. The other Tarah pokes her head the door, "Are you two ready?" Tarah laughs, "For sure!" I realize I've been thinking of the one in the living room with me as "my" Tarah, but I don't actually know which one is which.

Chapter 0 - Mind Control Double Act

I think I might be gay for my buddy John. Or... straight... for him? It's complicated. He was one of the people who got crazy mind powers when The Comet hit. He can mind control horny women(I think it's just women) and tease out their deepest erotic desires. Then he can pilot them towards fulfilling those fantasies. But there's a catch. When he's in someone else's mind, he's not in his own. Can't be two places at once. So, to use his power to the fullest, he needs a partner. That's where I come in. We're a double act. He guides our clients to unlocking the animal breeding impulse in their psyche, and I'm on standby as an imposing 6'8" domme with a toolbox full of every sex toy you could imagine, and a few I really hope you can't. Most days, I don't even open the toolbox. Lot of women just want their body anxieties overriden so they can fuck like God intended: bare-naked, sticky, and screaming. Others want something more elaborate. Rape fantasies, transformations, simulated mind-breaking, and more, we can do. There's even a few who come to us for gentle vanilla sex, just with John in the pilot seat for them. I've learned not to ask those ones why they pay so much extra for the mind control. Every body is built different. I've seen enough weird looking pussies to last a lifetime. They've got all different sensitive spots, and move in all different ways. I've fucked the young, the old. The sickly, the athletic, ballerinas, pro gamers, and everyone in between. They're all a little different, but there's something beneath all of them. At first, I thought it was some universal "Feminine Essence" or what have you, but then, one evening as we were headed home I saw John yawn in just the same way as I'd seen a thousand women do, and I realized why I kept coming back. It's him. Here I thought I knew how to make love to all sorts of women, but it's been him the entire time. He moves those hips. It's him that squirms when I hit their sweet spots. Now that I'm listening for it, sometimes I even hear his body moan when I'm really giving it to a client. I love him, no matter what shape he's in.

Chapter 0 - Lazy Friday Evening

Dr. Roseanne Wildey closes her car door at 5:46pm on Friday evening. She lets her hair down and undoes the top button of her shirt. She throws her ID lanyard on the passenger seat and starts the engine. As she pulls out of the parking garage, she leaves the music off. It distracts her. She's a plain woman. Not tall, but not short. Not fat, but not thin. Not ugly, nor especially beautiful. Her mousy hair is up in a bun. When she hits the red light at the offramp by her house, she pops a pill from a little orange bottle. They take a little while to kick in, so she starts early. By the time she gets to the front door of her duplex at 6:34, she can already feel the warm tension spreading through her body. First thing she does when she gets inside is take off her bra. Second thing is she microwaves and scarfs down some leftover lasagna. By the time she finishes a beer, she can feel her nipples getting hard. She hops in the shower. Better to do this next part nude. By the time she's rinsing lavender scented conditioner out of her hair, she can already feel her body plumping up in certain places, and contracting in others. In the mirror, as she wraps her hair in a towel, she watches her lips plump up. She can feel the name of the underlying biological process melting out of her memory. Wildey touches herself. It's funny. The more time she spends in this chemically warped body, the more she feels comfortable in her normal one. Pleasant heat rises in her gut and blooms outward. She finds her hands massaging her sides. Even though it feels kinda good, it never gets any less weird to have your bones reshape themselves inside you. By the time she's out of the bathroom, she's a quarter inch taller. She flops down on the bed and puts on a movie. Some old anime thing. Whatever was in the disc drive. She lies on the bed face up, and lets her head hang off the edge. She watches the movie upside down like that and lets the hormones wash through her. With every beat of her heart, her breasts get a little bit larger and a little bit rounder. By the time the movie's half over, she's got two basketballs pinning her down. A bit of drool runs down her face as the pretty explosions dance in her eyes. Her boobs stop growing. They get a little softer and floppier. Still huge and perky, but less perfectly spherical. She's horny now, in a kind of abstract way. She knows it's there, but doesn't quite feel it yet, with everything else going on in her body. By the time the credits roll, she's slithered onto the floor between the TV and her bed, and is digging under the bed for her box of sex toys. Her boobs are too big. She can't reach the box. Dimly, the part of her that can still think critically remembers she had this problem before, but she gets distracted by her throbbing pussy and forgets how she got to the box last time. She lies there, fingering herself with her shoulders on the carpet and her ass up on the edge of the bed. There's not a crick in her neck just yet, but there will be if she doesn't move soon. Every time, it's like discovering her body for the first time, and she gets lost in the feeling coming from her clit. She must bump the remote with her elbow or something, because the DVD player puts the next disc on. It's one of those fancy ones that has several discs inside at once. She recognizes the theme song that starts playing and giggles excitedly. When her phone buzzes, she practically falls over trying to answer it. Someone has texted her, but she doesn't remember how to read. She likes having friends. She hopes it's friends texting her. She remembers how to take a selfie. She does some kind of duck face ahegao thing and sends a picture to her friend. The friend sends back more words. She calls them, "Heyyyyy! Wazzup?" "Hey, uh, is a Doctor Wildey there?" Rose straightens up and puts on her best serious face. (It's not very serious even though she is trying really hard.) She says, "Haha yeah. I'm, like, a real doctor, I guess. You wanna see my tits?" "Is this Roseanne? You sound... different on the phone." Rose giggles, "Longest. Friday. Everrrr. Just chilling ya know? You sure you don't wanna see my titties? I wanna show you them. They're verrrry nice." The voices hems and haws for a moment, "I'm sorry, but I'm gay and very busy right now. The Cortical Oscillator is offline and I heard you were the expert." Rose shakes her head and slaps herself on the cheek, "Serious thinky time, Rosie. Time for smarty pants mode." she tells herself. There's an awkward pause and her coworker asks, "So, do you remember what error code 527 means? We can't find the manual." "Oh, that's easy, silly," She laughs, "Starts with a 5, that means it's still alive. Then a 2, good for you. Haha. 7 means...uhhhhh... It's....," she scrunches up her face for a moment, then remembers, " It's oscillating into k-phase too early because the Synaptic Co-ordinator's overloaded. Poor girl can only handle so many loads at once, you know. Like, just start again with less topocycles, baby. It'll be fiiiiine." Her coworker thanks her profusely and hangs up. She shakes her head again and says, "Alright Rosie. Thinky time's over." All the big funny science words fall out of her ears. She remembers the anime has been playing the whole time, and turns her head to watch it. Her eyes fall on a shoebox next to the TV. Turns out she couldn't reach the sex toys because they weren't under the bed at all.  By the time her roommate gets home, Rosie is asleep with three dildos vibrating inside her.

Chapter 0 - honeymoon getaway

"So, picture this: me and the wife are in bed. It's our honeymoon. Fantastic resort in the Philippines. We ordered room service, but it hasn't come yet, so she says to me we should get sloppy to pass the time. She's on all fours. Her ass is towards me. Face is down in the pillows, and i go to peel off her tiny little shorts." "Naw, honeybunches, that was later. I was all about slobbering on ya ding dong first thing." "Yeah. yeah. You were, babe. I was skipping to the good part. " "So, first thing was, after I orders room service, He gets out of the shower, still dripping wet. And I'm sittin' there thinkin to myself. Damn, if my hubby doesn't have a horse dick that'd choke any mare you care to name." "Right! Right, yeah. I saw the look in her eye and I said to her, hey you want me to fuck your face?" "Haha, yeah, I says, and I tugs off the towel. He's got a big fuckin tentpole, you know. Big ol' meaty fuckstick. Can't get enough of my lips all over that thing." "You know what her favorite part is?" "The frenulum." "It's the bit just behind my dickhead. Like, still under the foreskin? Where gunk gets if you don't wash it?" "So there I go slurping away at him. Oh, don't make that face! He'd just bathed! Wasn't actually any gunk under there!" "She's gagging her way down my little benny, and I'm just standing there like a dumbass who doesn't know what to do with my hands." "I knew what to do with my hands." "She was all over my nutsack." "You ever just sit there and watch a guy's nuts? You know, they actually wiggle around a bit on their own. It's like the sperms are swimming around in there or some shit." "So, she bottoms out on me. Her nose is all pressed up into my pubes, and she's wrangling my nuts in her one hand, while she looks up at my with those beautiful blue peepers. I take her by the free hand." "He tried to lean down and, like, kiss me or something, but since his whole dick was up my esophagus, there's just no way it was gonna work, so he falls over." "I knock her off the bed & smack my elbow on the end table." "So there I am on the floor, and hubby dearest has a banged up elbow, and I says 'my knight in shining armor!', or, I try to, because, you gotta realize, his tallywhacker was still well and truly lodged in there, and falling over just rammed it in deeper." "Right, so, I'm lying there on top of her, thinking oh my god is she okay?" "I got off better'n he did! Guess my throat exercises paid off! I wasn't even the one who whacked my funnybone." "Honey, you were turning blue." "Was not! I was having fun! I was in Dick Heaven." "She's a dumb slut. But she's my dumb slut. I stand up, try to pull myself free and figure out if I killed my girl-" "Who was, by the way not dying! I was totally having a blast!" "And I pull my dick out of her, but she's still sucking, and she, like, doesn't realize what I'm tryna do" "He pulled me off the ground with nothing but the sucking power of my own two lips hanging off his johnson!" "A few inches, but yeah." "And his dick slode outta me with this big fat slimy Shlorp kind of sound!" "Wasn't that loud." "Wasn't happening inside your face. I felt it in my sinuses, like SPLOOORPCH! All vibrating through my nostrils!" "So, I breaks the seal made by her lips, and she falls down again and bonks her head on the end table." "Yeah that wasn't my favorite part. So we're standing there with our banged up elbow and head, and he says, 'more?'. And obviously, I say, 'yes please', like some kind of masochist." "There was a big ol' glop of spit running down her face but I didn't wanna say anything. I tried to wipe it off her face and all, but she just hops on the bed with her ass in the air. I didn't marry her for her fat fucking dumptruck of a shitter, but It sure doesn't hurt." "So he climbs on the bed and takes off my panties, and I'm having the time of my life." "Fuckin' her isn't exactly throwin' a hotdog down a hallway, if you get my meaning." "They called me The Vice Grip in college. You're not careful and I slice your little man off with nothing but the power of my pelvic floor." "My girl know how to move, is what she's saying." "Hey don't sell yourself short! Aside from his oversized johnson, my hubby's got some moves! Just gimme a call if you wanna take him out for a spin, if ya get my drift." "So I'm slamming her from behind, and she starts gettin real into it, and she's just dripping all over the bedsheets from how wet she is, and howling like a banshee." "We get into a rhythm, and the headboard starts slamming into the wall real good. like, bam, bam, bam!" "But then room service knocks on the door." "Room service knocks on the door and he says 'come in!'" "Yeah I wasn't thinking the straightest. I don't know why I said that" "This little old Filipino lady opens the door with our dinner on a cart and she crosses herself like 'oh dios mio!' and turns to leave." "And I suddenly realize what I've done, but I can't stop my hips plowing away." "So I hear the lady, and I look up from being face down in the pillows, and our eyes lock. One wrinkly old lady working a dead end job, one perky slut getting her brains fucked out her ass. And you know what this pervert does?" "I couldn't help it. Something bout this little old lady coming in, getting an eyeful of my taint pushed me right over the edge, and I splooge instantly." "So, my darling hubby pulls himself outta me, still pumpin' out a stream of man batter, and the old lady pulls her cart back out the door and I say, "oh shit I better get that!" cause I thought I'd put up the do not disturb sign, but I guess not." "So, yeah, she threw on a bathrobe and ended up leaving a 250% tip to apologize to the poor lady." "Yeah and then we went straight back to fucking."