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Chapter Text

From his seat in the shadows, he watched her. Truly, it was difficult to stay his eyes from her as she moved about the tavern, her shapely hips swaying seductively as she went. It was hypnotic but he wasn’t interested in breaking free of the pull.

The plain dress she wore didn’t dim her beauty in the slightest. Her hips tapered into a slim waist. She had a modest bust and full lips so red he found himself practically salivating in excitement. But it was her neck that sealed it for him. Sun-kissed skin flecked with freckles that demanded his lips upon them. He could hear her heartbeat; see the flutter of her pulse in her neck.

There, he decided with a lick of his lips, right there is where I’ll bite her.

He saw a burly nord approach his prey and he had to bite back a snarl. The nord’s want for her was palpable.

He waited, how long he wasn’t sure, but finally the nord left and the remainder of the tavern’s patrons began to file out into the streets. He shot his prey a longing look and slipped out of the back door, blending into the shadows and eagerly bidding his time.

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She had no idea he was scarcely a pace behind her, close enough to hear the gentle thrum of her heartbeat as if it were his own. He desperately wanted to reach out and grab her, give in to the urges that screamed inside of him, but he knew timing was everything.

The hunt was everything and he’d no jeopardize his success for anything.

She’d been one of the last patrons to leave and the streets of Riverwood were largely empty, with only a few guards strolling lazily down the cobble stone paths. He knew then that he loved this village. Almost entirely unaccustomed to the dangers that lurked just beyond Riverwood’s crumbling walls, guards were relaxed and citizens moved without fear.

Easy prey; so ripe for the plucking the very thought nearly drove him wild.

In the hundred years since his blessing was laid upon him he’d enjoyed many a nights amidst the massive cities of Tamriel, slipping between guards and stealing into fortified mansions to savor the feast trapped within. It never got old; the challenge always excited him.

But there was something about hunting someone so unaware, so naïve to the ways of the world, that was uniquely tantalizing.

She made for the stairs, her goal the second story of the trader’s cottage. His breath caught in his throat, a gentle growl breezing low within him, as he lashed out and made his move, snatching her a mere second before her foot touched the first step.

She didn’t know what hit her. The suddenness of his attack rocked her and her attempts to fight back were pitiful at best. With one hand over her mouth and another around her waist, he pulled her behind her home.

He chuckled as she tried to elbow him in the ribs, pushing her so her stomach was against the stone of the cottage. With his hand still covering her mouth, stifling her attempts to scream for help, he tore at her dress. The neckline ripped, exposing her shoulder and giving him a glimpse of the tops of her breasts as they pressed against the wall.

His fangs broke the tender flesh of her neck effortlessly and as his mouth filled with blood, the brunette bucked wildly against him, pressing her buttocks to his groin. He sucked back her blood like a man desperate to quench his thirst.

With each mouthful, the woman’s attempts to fight him off weakened. She whined and squeezed her eyes shut, eventually offering nothing but whimpers in protest as he pawed at her.

She was delicious, nearly overwhelming, and as his vampiric thirst waned he felt a new hunger rip through him. As he flicked his tongue over the puncture wounds on her neck, cleaning the smears of blood from her skin and savouring the warmth of her against him, he grinded his hips into buttocks. Her struggles renewed as his erection prodded her but weakened from blood loss she was powerless to escape his grasp.

“I wonder,” he whispered into her ear, flicking her lobe with his tongue, “if every inch of you is as delicious as your life-blood, my dear?”

His hand caressed the curve of her waist, settling on her hip for only a moment before inching toward the apex of her thighs. Even through the cloth of her skirts, his heartbeat raced upon touching her. She whimpered and he felt tears strike the hand he still had clasped over her mouth.

He knew then this thirst could not be ignored.

He needed her and he needed her now.

Kissing her battered neck, he clutched her tightly to him and broke out into a sprint, his inhuman abilities making the trek into the woods effortless. In what had to feel like the blink of an eye to his prey, they were high up in the mountains surrounding her village, shielded by the dense cover of the forest. When he was sure they were far enough away from Riverwood, he threw her down on the ground. Laid out before him in a bed of clover, the weak and trembling woman looked up at him with heavy eyes. Her skirt had hitched up, revealing strong, bronzed legs. Her brown locks fell loose from her braid and fanned out around her like a halo.

With a lick of his lips, he was on her.

He tore her dress from her like a man possessed, using strips of fabric to bind her hands behind her and a fistful shoved in her mouth to stifle her cries. He ripped through her corset, freeing her breasts to the cool night air and earning a choked sob from the terrified woman. With a shaky sigh, he stretched out along side of her, palming her bare breasts. She filled his hand perfectly and his cock twitched in anticipation.

He looked in her the eyes as he pinched her nipple, teasing it into a peak. Unable to resist, he leaned forward and latched onto her rosy peak, suckling her roughly as his hand trailed down her stomach to the sweetness he longed to savour.

She bucked against him as his fingers feathered over the lips of her womanhood and he bit her nipple in warning.

After lavishing kisses and nips on her neglected breast he kissed her cheek. His fingers still lingered on her mound and she was shaking violently, watching him with wide, terrified eyes.

“I’m going to take you, sweetling,” he whispered as he slipped a single finger between her dry nether-lips, “I’m going to fill you with my cock until you’re fit to burst, spread you open until not an inch of you is left untouched…”

He looked down the length of her body. Her breasts heaved as she took heavy, labored breaths.

He smiled and looked back to her, “I suggest you find some enjoyment in this, sweetling, else it will hurt rather badly when you take my cock.”

She winced and tears filled her eyes as two of his fingers roughly wiggled their way into her tight, virginal channel. A stinging pain bloomed across her womanhood as he leisurely rocked his fingers in and out of her.

“Relax,” he said as he hushed her, “I’m not going to waste a moment of this night, sweet girl. Don’t waste your strength by struggling. By night’s end I will have taken you in ways that would make a whore blush crimson…you’ll need every ounce of strength you have in you.”

A third finger brutishly joined the two and she threw back her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

As his fingers worked between her legs, he dipped his head to her breast, capturing an abused nipple between his lips. He sucked roughly and she writhed against him. Chuckling, he crooked his fingers, flicking wildly inside of her as his suckling intensified.
His lips left her flesh with a wet pop.

He cursed under his breath and removed his fingers from her, moving to kneel between her legs. He pushed back the shredded remains of her dress and spread her legs further apart to better glimpse her most intimate flesh. Despite her resistance, her excitement glistened on her lips. He had no doubt it wasn’t enough, but somehow the idea of their union hurting her excited him. He gazed up to find her gaze already set upon him.

“Beautiful,” he said in a heavy breath, frantically freeing himself from his trousers and hoisting her legs over his shoulders as he positioned himself at her opening.

He slowly pressed the head of his cock against her and ran himself up and down her slit as he watched her eyes.

The strange sensation of his hot, hard cock against her womanhood sent a shiver down her spine that did not go unnoticed by him.

Smirking, he watched her eyes as he forced the head of his cock into her, saw when the twinge of pain hit her, and slammed home; filling her to the brim with a single thrust.

The woman arched back and screamed into the gag, breaking down into a fit of sobs when her voice gave out.

The vice like grip of her cunt around him was dizzying. He pressed his forehead to hers, not moving despite the overwhelming desire to plow into her. He wanted to savor it, the filling her so completely, and the sweet spasming of her virginal muscles around his thick cock as her body struggled to accommodate his length inside of her.

“Molag Bal has blessed me,” he said in a whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “to be the first to take such a woman.”

He moved his hips ever so slightly, groaning as she clenched involuntarily around him. She was dry but he wasn’t about to let it deter him; if anything it made his blood surge with arousal.

By the time he was done with her, she’d be dripping.

“Good girl,” he licked her neck and pressed his lips to her ear, “I will not be gentle, sweetling. You will ache for days…”

He slid out of her, allowing her a mere heartbeat of relief, before snapping his hips forward to fill her again. He bumped against her cervix and nearly came, managing at the last second to rein himself back in.

“So tight…”

Giving into his hunger, he thrust into her with abandon, his balls slapping wetly against her with each jerk of his hips.

“Should…I….come….inside…sweetling?” He teased between gasps, his pace relentless.

She shrieked and vehemently shook her head no.

With a laugh, he allowed her one leg to fall from his shoulder and snaked his hand between them to begin mercilessly toying with her swollen clit. Moaning, she arched her hips into him and he renewed his frantic pace, sending a new wave of stinging pain shooting through her.

After what felt like an eternity at the rough, careless pace, his thrusts slowed. He dug his nails into her hips and pulled her onto his lap. The new angle allowed him deeper access and she struggled to lift herself from him to relieve the splitting agony, only to be jerked back downwards.

Her keening whine degenerated into a series of wanton moans even the gag couldn’t stifle.

He urged her hips onward with one hand, keeping up the desperate rocking motion as his lips latched onto her sore nipples. His free hand massaged her neglected breast.

“I’m going….to come….in you,” he gasped, “fill…fill you up.”

It was all the warning she got before he held her hips in place with an unbreakable grip and released inside of her, hot streams of come pulsing inside of her.

Fresh tears fell down her cheeks. She could feel every twitch of his cock inside of her, every spurt of his seed.

Panting, he eased himself from her; earning a pained moan from the exhausted woman.

He let her fall to the ground as he caught his breath, smiling down at her as he caught glimpse of his release dripping from her abused cunt. He saw smears of blood on her hips from his iron-tight hold on her and her nipples were red and swollen.

“Beautiful,” he whispered as he stroked himself back to full attention.

The woman saw his cock stiffen and whimpered.

“I told you I wouldn’t go easy on you,” he said with a smirk as he manhandled her, flipping her onto her stomach, “I haven’t had my fill of you yet…”

He smacked her buttocks and lifted her hips so she was settled on her knees, her face pressed into the soil and her ass presented to him perfectly. He knelt behind her and leaned forward to fondle her breasts, pinching her hard before running his hands over her stomach before finally settling back between her legs.

He pressed his thumb to her clit and lazily circled her swollen nub.

She twitched and moaned under his ministrations, pushing her hips down to chase the pleasure he knew he was building in her. He kept his fingers on her clit as he lined his erection up with her opening and worked his length into her with short thrusts, each movement of his hips pushing another inch into her. When every inch of his length was buried inside of her snug channel, he pulled her hips back into his and started a lazy pace.

The sound of her soft moans and the wet smacking of their bodies connecting was music to his ears.

“Look at you,” he said in awe as he watched himself sink in and out of her, “You’re taking my cock so well, sweetling…”

Her response was a tired hum.

He nudged her knees further apart, opening her up even more, and started pounding into her with renewed vigor, desperate to spend himself in her again.

At this new angle, he felt as though he was reaching new depths within her. He muttered praises to her as they rocked together, his fingers never leaving her clit. Her tired muscles clenched tightly around his length, milking him.

He smirked, knowing she was close.

He leaned forward, practically covering her with his body, and pressed his lips to her ear.

“Come for me, good girl,” he taunted, “let it go.”

She gasped through the spit-saturated gag, hiccuping as her climax built.

Eager to see her to her end, he pushed her forward onto her stomach and pounded into her with abandon, his cock pistoning in and out of her as he pushed her closer and closer to her release. Her breath hitched and her body shuddered but he continued his brutal pace, absolutely intoxicated by the fluttering of her aching channel around his cock.

With a strangled growl, he dug his nails into the tender flesh of her hips and tilted his hips, slamming into her with sharp, shallow thrusts that struck a tender place deep inside of her.

It had an immediate and toe-curling effect.

She whined and pushed her hips against him, chasing the high he’d brought her to the peak of.

With a smirk, he leaned his entire weight into her, forcing her fully to the ground and pounding into her.

Her eyes squeezed shut and her body quivered of its own accord as the tightening coil of ecstasy he’d wound inside of her snapped free and she came with a strangled wail.

He laughed and kept up his brutal pace as the waves of her orgasm rippled through her, pulling a sharp gasp from the exhausted woman each time he bottomed out inside of her.

There was no stopping his second climax. It tore through him like an untamed beast and he let out a long moan as he spilled himself inside of her.

She went completely limp under him, offering no resistance as her shot stream after stream of hot seed into her battered body.

Looking up to the starry sky, he felt himself soften inside the woman and slowly eased himself out of her, savoring the last erratic spasms of her body. He leaned back on his haunches and roughly manipulated her cheeks apart to feast upon the sight of her swollen womanhood leaking his seed. He salivated at the sight of it; his seed marking her and her blood smeared on the inside of her golden thighs.

He rolled her onto her back and crawled up her body, lazily flicking his tongue over her nipples until they were face to face. Eyes only open a sliver; the woman appeared to be upon the brink of losing consciousness. He slowly worked the gag from her lips, trusting that she was beyond crying for help at this point.

He watched keenly as she licked her lips.

“Just as I thought,” he said in a shaky breath, his body still tingling with the remnants of his climax, “every inch of you is delicious…”

He slipped his hand down the length of her body and flicked his finger up and down her slit, in awe of the shivers it brought out of her.

“A feast worth savoring…”

Her hips hitched upwards, lazily chasing his touch.

“Your name,” he whispered as he dragged his slick digit around her clit, “tell me, sweetling…”

The woman licked her lips again and took a moment to find her voice before speaking in shaky whisper.

“C-Camilla…”

He moaned, “Lovely…”

His prodding finger trailed slowly down her slit and pressed against her abused opening, breaching her ever so slightly.

Camilla flinched.

“Every inch of you,” he breathed into the curve of her neck, “is absolutely lovely…”

He took his time, slipping his fingers into her with a twisted tenderness and crooking them just right, causing Camilla to buck suddenly against him and her eyes to roll back in quiet ecstasy.

“Let it go, sweetling,” he muttered into her flesh, “sing for me…”

He spread her with his fingers, prodding the tender depths of her channel as he coaxed her sore nipples to budding attention with his tongue. His fingers busy inside of her, he pressed the palm of his hand against her clit, revelling in the sound of her sharp gasps.

He took her twice more before the sun rose; leaving her a quivery mess covered in love-bites, sweat and the smear his seed across her sun-kissed skin.

He dressed slowly, his gaze fixed on her. His hunger had been more than satisfied and yet were it not for the sun he’d have scrapped together what energy he had left to have her once more.

He frowned. He knew he needed to be quick; the sun had barely risen and already he could feel the tell-tale burn across his flesh. He needed to retreat to the shadows, needed the relief its dark embrace offered.

Looking down at Camilla, he briefly contemplated taking her along with him but knew the moment the thought crossed his mind that it wasn’t wise.

Many of his kind kept cattle in their den to satisfy their hunger but he’d never kept to the practice. He hadn’t the time to keep a pet and yet he was more tempted than ever to keep her as his own.

The sun seared his flesh. Despite the pain, he merely sighed.

No.

He’d only just arrived in Skyrim; there was still so much more to see and sample.

And somehow the idea of stealing sweet, sun-kissed Camilla away from the sun seemed cruel.

Working quickly, he tied the tatters of her dress together as best he could and wrapped her in his worn leather jacket. Nudging her knees apart, he ignored her whimpers of protest and used the scraps of her dress to clean the mess from between her legs.

“You did so well,” he praised, kissing the inside of her knees, “such a good girl…”

He gathered her up in his arms and made for the village. He side stepped the few guards that patrolled the streets with ease and made his way to the shop she called home.

He left her behind the building, shielded from the street and swaddled in his coat. He took only one lingering glance back at her over his shoulder before slipping back into the forest.

Chapter Text

He meandered down the corridor, pausing briefly at each cell to eye the merchandise inside. He passed weeping women of various races, even a Bosmer male that held his own appeal, but nothing struck him as being precisely what he needed.

“New stock is in the back. I think there’s one that might peak your interest,” Belethor chimed in as he followed his client through the halls, eager to make a sale and find the stern orc a plaything.

He shot the shifty Breton a glance over his shoulder, then nodded, stepping aside to allow him to lead the way.

Uzul didn’t think highly of the Breton, didn’t like his unabashed pursuit of coin and the sleazy grin that never left his lips. Still, he was the only man in Skyrim who catered to his…unique tastes; and he was discreet. So he tolerated it; Belethor had yet to disappoint after all.

Belethor rounded the bend in the dank corridor and the sound of weeping grew louder.

“These arrived this morning,” he explained, “none have been sampled but they know what they’re here for, what’s coming. Most don’t tend to shut up until they’ve been mounted a few times.”

Uzul paid the man no mind; he was far too engrossed with eyeing the fresh offerings in their cells as he passed. He briefly considered a curvaceous Nord woman. She had curled herself up into a ball on the filthy floor of her cell. The tattered rags she wore scarcely covered her body and he got a generous glimpse of her shapely rear as she scrambled to cover herself. In the cell beside the Nord, a nude Redguard was chained to the stone wall so that her legs were spread. She’d been given no slack in her chains, making closing her legs impossible.

Uzul continued down the hallway, determined to see all the slaver had to offer before he made his choice. With what the man charged, Uzul wanted to make sure he got the very best.

He found just that at the end of the corridor, in a cell that appeared spacious compared to the others. Its occupant was a slender young woman he guessed was no more than eighteen. She too had been chained to the stone wall of her cell, her hands bound behind her back. Pale, with long dark hair and beautiful, panicked blue eyes, she was striking.

“Ah,” Belethor said with a smirk, “you have fine taste!”

“How much?” Uzul asked gruffly, not taking his gaze from the terrified woman.

“She’s a fine specimen, isn’t she? Breton, young…might even be a virgin…”

“How much?”

“Fifteen hundred to have her the entire night,” Belethor said without hesitation.

It was a ridiculous amount but he paid it without a word of protest, tossing a bag of coins at Belethor, who took his time counting them.

As he waited, Uzul watched the woman carefully. She’d begun to tremble but hadn’t averted her gaze from him. Eyes wide with fear, she’d begun to weep but was largely silent; her lips pursed tightly together as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Seemingly satisfied with the coin, Belethor took a keyring from his pocket and unlocked the woman’s cell.

“You know the rules,” he said to Uzul as he tucked the keys away, “no permanent damage. You kill ‘er, you bought ‘er. Supplies are in the desk to your right, take what you need. I’ll be back to fetch you in the morning. Have fun!”

He merely nodded, not sparing the man a glance as he headed back the way they’d come.

Uzul riffled through the desk Belethor had indicated. He tucked a blanket under his arm and grabbed the pitcher of water that sat atop it. Entering the cell, he sat everything on the lone chair in the room and began unlatching the straps of his armour.

He was acutely aware that the girl’s eyes were fixed on him but set about readying himself without paying her much mind. He piled his armour near the cell door and stripped off the thin tunic and trousers he wore underneath. Fetching the blanket, he spread it out on the floor.

Satisfied things were as he needed, he turned to the girl only to find that she’d averted her gaze and was staring at the stone floor, shaking violently.

Like all males of his race, he was tall; an imposing mountain of muscle. His tusks protruded from his lips, giving him what many might construe as a permanent snarl. His hair was dark and long; he wore it pulled back in thick braids that fell down his back, coming to a stop at his hips. His chest was strong and broad, his hips narrow. His cock was half-hard, but already of imposing girth.

Uzul was astutely aware that he might be the first man, let alone first of his race, that the woman might be seeing, experiencing. Still, he had a need and he’d paid good gold for this woman to sate it.

He approached her, grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and jerked her up to her feet. She was clumsy and gave a fearful squeak at the suddenness of his motion, but gave no real protest. Nervous, pliant…she was just as he desired. Still, he was glad her hands were bound behind her back.

“Your name?”

Gaze fixed on the ground; she trembled like a leaf in the wind.

Uzul grabbed her chin and made her look at him.

“You’ll answer me, girl.”

Lip quivering, her eyes met his.

“E-Elara…”

“Hmm,” he grazed his thumb across her cheek, “have you ever taken a man, Elara?”

She choked on a sob and tried to pull away from him.

Unfazed, Uzul dug his fingers into her jaw to halt her movement.

“Answer me,” he said gruffly, his voice low and warning.

Elara frantically shook her head.

He let out a strained breath and released his hold on her, patting her cheek with feigned affection.

“Good girl,” he whispered, slipped his arms around her to pull her flush to his body.

She tensed and whined, but he held her tight.

“Did you ever think,” he said, “that an orc would be the one to claim your maidenhead?”

Her eyes opened wide and she tried to wiggle free of his grasp, of his body.

“P-Please…”

“Hush,” he ordered.

Uzul’s hands dropped to the hem of the tattered dress she wore. He tempered his eagerness to rid her of it and slid his hands up her thighs, settling on her bare hips. Unsurprisingly, she wore no smallclothes, allowing him a glimpse of the tangle of dark curls between her legs.

“Hmm, exquisite…”

She twisted in an attempt to cover herself.

“No –

Uzul grabbed the front of her dress, tangling the thin fabric in his fists, and pulled. The material came apart with a loud rip, exposing the young girl.

She screamed and tried weakly to cover herself, to shield her naked body from his gaze, but Uzul’s hand clasping tightly around her throat halted those efforts.

Elara froze; her body tense and rigid from head to toe. Her eyes squeezed closed, she twitched only slightly when his free hand cupped one of her breasts.

Uzul savored the softness of her delicate flesh. She had a small bust, a flat stomach, and shapely hips. Very much unlike the women of his own race, who were predominantly curvy and toned from work either at the forge or the training grounds. Still, her petite figure had its own appeal. Soft and supple, her skin was heavenly under his calloused fingers.

Yes, he thought to himself, she’d been a fine choice.

He flicked his thumb over the hardening peak of her nipple.

“I’ve no intension of harming you,” he pinched her nipple, tugging on it lightly as he watched her closely, “I paid good gold for your body and I will enjoy it…but you can as well.”

Elara gave a low whine and meekly shook her head.

“Your body doesn’t seem to agree with you,” Uzul pointed out evenly.

His hand left her breast and trailed down the smooth plane of her stomach. Reaching the apex of her thighs, he slipped a single finger between them.

Elara immediately bucked against him and tried to squeeze her legs close to prevent his exploration. Her body betrayed her though. The slickness between her legs aided the agonizingly slow glide of his finger. He pressed against her clit only briefly before sliding back to prod her tight opening.

“Hmm, so wet for someone who insists they don’t want it…”

“I…I-I don’t!” she said in a gasp, her knees parting as her hips jerked forward of their own volition, chasing his touch.

Uzul pulled away and reached around her to tug on the chains that bound her, teasing out more slack from the steel rings that limited her range of motion. Satisfied he had enough to work with; he led her to the blanket he’s laid down.

He pushed her down to her knees and pushed her head down. He rid her of the tattered remains of her dress, leaving her completely bared to him. Uzul took a moment to run his hand over the pale expanse of her back.

Her head down and shoulders pressed into the floor, her hips were propped up in offering.

“Perfect…”

Uzul settled himself behind her. He gripped the shackles that bound her wrists and used his other hand to pry her knees apart.

“P-Please!” Elara pleaded, struggling against his touch as much as the taut chain would allow, “Please, let me go!”

On his knees between her legs, he held her with one hand while he stroked his throbbing cock to full attention.

“Try to relax, girl,” he warned, “else this will not be pleasant.”

She wept and fought as best she could as he pressed the head of his cock to the lips of her womanhood.

Uzul gave a contented sigh and dragged his cock up and down the length of her slit, pressing into her teasingly when he passed her tight opening.

The shaking of her body coupled with the whimpers leaving her were incredibly tantalizing. He found himself curious as to what other sounds he could elicit from her…

Unable to resist her pull any longer, Uzul gripped her hips. He lined his cock up and pressed into her until the bulbous head of his cock entered her.

Elara wailed.

“No! N-No! Please -

She was silenced by the slide of his cock inside of her, pushing further into her tight channel. A stabbing, sharp pain spread across her womanhood and deep into her body with the movement of his cock. She let out a choked sob and clenched her teeth painfully tight as it piqued, the sting now searing inside of her.

Uzul groaned as her body strained and spasmed in its efforts to accommodate his size.

She was so impossibly tight, so wet and soft, he had to steady himself lest he give in and rut her into the floor.

Elara keened as he finally bottomed out inside of her, the head of his cock pressing hard against the deepest part of her.

“Good girl…”

He held himself there only for a breath before he started a lazy pace. Slow, calculated rolls of his hips rocked her forward, pressed her harder into the ground.

“Elara…”

Long, low moans left him as he pulled her back into his thrusts, allowing him to feel every inch of her as her muscles clenched him greedily.

“So good…”

He withdrew almost entirely from her before slamming back, filling her in a single, swift motion.

“So tight…”

Uzul quickened his pace.

Sounds of their wet bodies smacking together, her groans and Uzul’s moans filled the cell. He watched his length slide in and out of her, saw the glimmer of sweat on her back and buttocks and felt his release near.

He dug his nails into her hips, pulling her back into his thrusts and earning him a low moan from the pinned woman. With a smirk on his lips, Uzul playfully smacked her abused behind once before renewing his grip on her.

“Good girl,” he gasped; voice husky and strained, “you’re taking me so well…”

“N-No…no more,” she managed.

Uzul chuckled and made no move to pull out or slow his pace. He gave a single sharp thrust that pushed her flat into the stone floor. Pressing himself flush against her, he panted into her ear as his thrust became more erratic.

“M-More,” he gasped, “’till I’ve had my fill…”

Uzul gave a grunt and stiffed against her as his climax took him. He pumped his seed into her in strong spurts that shook them both, stilling only when he was utterly spent.

Sated but by no means finished with his plaything, Uzul lifted himself slowly off of her. He paid her broken sobs no mind, and settled between her legs to part the full globes of her ass-cheeks and watch her abused body leak his seed.
He didn’t give her long to recover, roughly flipping her over onto her back.

Uzul gave a contented hum as he stretched himself over her, meeting her gaze briefly before turning his focus to her chest.

He pinched and twisted her nipple, watching her closely as she wiggled under him, trying in vain to free herself from his touch.

“Lovely,” he mused as he watched her nipple peak under her ministrations, “every inch of you, girl.”

Uzul leaned down to flick his tongue over her teased nipple, laving it slowly before latching onto her. She gasped and bucked as he grew rougher, groaning as he suckled her.

The sounds she was making went right to his cock, hardening him anew.

Overcome with unending want for her, Uzul forced himself to pull away from her long enough to position himself properly between her legs. He sighed in contentment as he entered her, savouring the whimper it drew out of her.

When he was fully sheathed inside of her, Uzul grinned.

Hooking his arms under her legs, he lifted them back, opening her up beautifully so. He watched her face, watched her breasts bounce with each jerk as he slammed into her with renewed vigor.

“I’m…not…done…with you…yet…”

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Uzul dumped the pitcher of water over Elara and used the blanket to clean her as best he could. She winced when he brushed over her upper thigh and he slowed, taking care to be gentle when he finally reached the tenderness between her legs.

Their activities had left a filthy smear of their combined juices between her legs and long the inside of her thighs. He was straight-faced and methodical as he cleaned her, his features betraying nothing of what he was thinking.

Her cell had no window but he knew it was morning – Belethor would undoubtedly be arriving to see him out soon.

Standing, he cast the soiled blanket aside and continued dressing himself. Once he had the last straps of his armour fastened, he helped Elara to her feet. She swayed once she was upright and he paused, allowing her to steady herself against him.

When she seemed steady enough, he grabbed her by the chin and made her look up at him.

He said nothing, but merely held her gaze.

There was a clatter of keys behind him and he turned to see Belethor.

“Morning,” the Breton said with a lewd grin, eyeing Elara up and down, “I see you both had a fun night!”

Uzul grunted.

“Satisfactory then?”

“Very.”

“Excellent!” Belethor beamed as he circled Elara, “I’m happy to see you followed the rules as well.”

“When have I not?” Uzul grumbled.

Belethor merely chuckled, “A man has to protect his merchandise…”

Uzul watched him run his hand over Elara’s stomach.

His exploration delved lower.

“I’ll let myself out,” Uzul muttered when it became evident Belethor’s focus was no longer on him, “I’ll see you next week; keep my time slot open.”

The distracted merchant merely nodded and waved a dismissive hand at him.

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Belethor pushed her down to her knees and hurried to kneel between her splayed legs, fumbling to line himself up with her opening.

Elara sobbed uncontrollably, fighting as much as her shackles allowed her to get the man away.

She failed.

When the Breton forced his cock inside of her, Elara screamed.

Still sore from taking the Orc, the Breton’s cock stirred up a stinging, persistent pain inside of her. He hardly noticed her discomfort though and began a rough, clumsy rhythm.

He fingered her clit, leaning forward so he could use his other hand to fondle her breasts.

“Fuck…best…buy…ever…”

Mercifully, he found his end in her quickly; coming inside of her with a strained cry.

Afterwards, he tucked himself back into his trousers and left her alone in the deafening quiet of her cell.

Chapter Text

Elara awoke to the sound of her cell door opening. Footsteps neared her and she squeezed her eyes tightly closed, hoping it would turn out to be a dream; nothing more than a nightmare.

It was. But it was real.

Strong hands spread her knees and she jumped despite herself when a tongue was pressed to her womanhood.

She opened her eyes and looked down to find a burly, dark-haired Nord between her thighs.

“No –

Her captor flicked his tongue over her clit before taking it roughly into his mouth, sucking vigorously. His ministrations were brutish, with no care taken to her pleasure. With each suckle, her hips twitched and rose from the ground.

“Please! Gods, no!”

She twisted, hoping to scramble to freedom. But another pair of hands grasped her own and held her down.

The man abusing her clit slowed his pace and began to press a thick finger against her opening.

The man who held her arms leaned down.

“Hush, girl, we’ve paid good coin for ye.”

Elara couldn’t help the tears that sprung to her eyes. She knew they were wasted. Whoever these men were meant to do as they pleased to her, to use her as they saw fit. Tears or pleas for mercy would get her no where. Just as they hadn’t with all those who’d come before them.

Two fingers pushed into her womanhood and she bit her lip to stifle her pained moan. The only thing easing his movements was his own saliva and each sharp thrust of his hand tore her gentle flesh. It sent a stinging pain across her slit, causing her to flinch with each movement. Her captors didn’t seem to take notice.

The one that had held down her arms had torn the simple cotton dress from her body and was greedily grasping her breasts. As the movements of his comrade grew more desperate, he shook her entire body, causing her breasts to sway wantonly. He pinched her nipples, twisting until she cried out.

“Good girl…”

“I want to be inside of her, brother,” growled the one between her legs, the frantic pace of his fingers not letting up, “I want her cunt…”

“Fine,” the one at her head grumbled, “then her ass is mine.”

Elara squealed in fear and renewed her fighting.

The man between her legs chuckled as his brother smacking Elara’s breasts hard, bringing about an end to her struggles.

“No complaints,” he said, hurrying to free himself from the confines of his trousers, “make her ride me.”

Elara choked on a sob as was lifted from the ground and pushed forward. The man had laid down on his back on a ratty blanket, his trousers down at his ankles and his cock standing thick and hard amongst the thatch of dark hair between his legs. Elara paled at the sight of it.

“Straddle him, girl,” the man whispered in her ear, “don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Tears flooded her eyes. She thought again of fighting, of escaping. The door to her cell would be the first obstacle should she be lucky enough to free herself from the grasp of the men who held her. Beyond that she suspected there were guards, how many she had no idea. Even if she somehow made it past that, she had no idea where to run after that. She’d been drugged and blindfolded when she’d first arrived, for all she knew the paths beyond her door were a maze.

There was no way out.

The man grabbed a fistful of her hair and jerked her down, pulling a startled scream from her.

“Come on, girl,” the man growled as he positioned her over his brother, forcing her forward so her ass was in the air, “we’ve not got all night.”

She looked down, full of shame and revolted by the man’s hands squeezing the swell of her ass, only to come face to face with the man she lay draped across. It was then she noticed the war-paint on his eyes.

He smirked and ducked down to suckle at her breasts, tugging on her perk nipples with his teeth.

His brother urged her hips down, slipping a hand between her legs to spread the lips of her womanhood as the blunt head of the man’s cock was lined up to her opening.

Elara stiffened, terrified of what was to come and doubtful she could endure the man’s girth.

“Please, no,” she managed, her voice strained, “you’ll break me…”

The man pulled away from her breast, his lips leaving her flesh with a pop.

“Hush, sweetling,” he soothed, his large hands cupping her breasts, “just relax and open up for me…”

Elara shook her head.

The man’s brother grabbed her hips from behind, his nails digging into her flesh. He gave no warned before he pushed her hips down, forcing her to take the head of the cock. Pained, she resisted his grip, trying to pull off.

“No!” she exclaimed in a gasp.

“Yes,” the man below her sighed before thrusting upwards to push the entire length of his cock into her tight, dry channel.

Elara screamed as he opened her up, dry and sore, and touched depths of her none else had reached.

The man’s lips latched onto her nipple and he glared at her as he quickened his pace, fucking her with short, sharp thrusts that made her weak and dizzy. Her muscles, stretched and strained, struggled to accommodate his girth and each pump of his cock stung. He continued despite her tears and mewling cries for mercy and eventually the stinging pain was joined by a faint, tingling warmth that confused her.

As she struggled to make sense of the building warmth, she felt a saliva-slicked finger teasing the tight rim of her ass and she squeezed her eyes shut. No man had taken her there before and she was mortified at the thought, disgusted by the boldness of the man’s fingers.

One digit pushed past her hole and pulled a strangled cry from her.

The man behind her chuckled, “Has no man taken ye’r ass before, lass?”

The man’s companion gripped her hips, pulling her down rougher on his cock and pushing the air from her. Unable to do anything other than gape, wide-eyed, as his thick cock struck something deep inside of her that made her body betray her, she was powerless to answer.

Not that her other attacker needed an answer.

One finger was soon joined by two and Elara was left a limp, quivering mass on the man’s chest, powerless to protest their joined onslaught.

“Get in her, brother,” the man beneath her gasped, “her cunt is so tight…”

Fingers left her ass and she felt the blunt head of the other man’s length press against her tight rim.

She immediately went rigid and tried to lift herself from the one man, only to have him wrap his arms low around her waist. His new hold on her immobilized her from the waist down, keeping her in place as he slowed his thrusts to allow the other man access to her ass.

Crying openly, her lip trembling, she was allowed only a breath to prepare herself before he pushed into her under-prepared hole, sending a shot of white-hot pain through her body.

She screamed as the man let out a long, contented sigh.

“Gods above,” he said with a smile, “perfection…”

The man in her ass pulled his cock out slowly, withdrawing all but the head of his cock, before snapping his hips forward to slam into her.

“Please!” she managed, her voice sharp and strained, “please stop!”

Both men ignored her and intensified their movements.

Eyes watery and wide, Elara could only feel.

Both men rutted her until they reached their piques, one filling her womanhood with his seed, the other her ass.

When she was finally allowed to roll off them, she laid limp and exhausted on the ground, limbs trembling and her body leaking their seed.

The slimmer man, the one who’d claimed her ass, knelt beside her and manipulated her body so her legs were spread, and she was on her back. She barely had time to register the movement when he pressed into her cunt, somehow hard again.

Elara gave a low groan and grabbed the man’s shoulders, trying weakly to push him off her. He laughed and leaned over her, biting her chin as he lazily rolled his hips into her, sliding his cock in and out of her at an agonizingly slow pace.

To her horror she realized he was savoring her.

“Ye’ve a tight cunt too,” he muttered, rocking into her so his pubic bone rubbed her clit, “even after taking my brother you squeeze me so damn well, lass.”

“S-Stop,” she gasped, “s-s-stop…”

Her nails scratched along his arms as she rolled her head back, closing her eyes as his pace quickened.

“Even as ye say that, ye’r body holds me tight,” he growled, “let me have you proper, lass.”

He roughly groped her breasts, nibbling and sucking her abused nipples as his thrusts became sloppy and desperate.

Elara whimpered as each stroke of his cock built a warm tension inside of her that soon threatened to burst. Beat and overcome by what she was feeling, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

And just felt.

Chapter Text

Uzul had been sated by his sampling of the young Breton in Belethor’s dungeon, but by the time he reached Ivarstead, he was eager to bed another.

He retreated to the inn as night fell and the friendly barkeep greeted him with a smile. He purchased a tankard of ale and a meal. He found a seat in the corner of the inn, sipping his ale as he waited for the meal to be brought to him.

As he waited, he eyed the small crowd.

Ivarstead had little beyond the inn itself but was a comfortable place to spot along the road to Riften. The few farms that lined the road and the mill near the river were the only businesses the town had to offer, and he doubted he’d find a woman to satisfy his desires, but remained hopeful.

A potential bedmate appeared in the form of the curvaceous Nordic woman who brought him his meal. Young and sun-kissed, the woman smiled as she placed his meal before him. She wore a simple white dress with a brown leather bodice and a soiled apron about her waist. Her short golden blonde hair was well kept, and her full lips were enthralling. He wondered how lovely they’d look wrapped about his cock…

“Thank you, dear lady,” he grumbled, handing her a small handful of coins.

She looked down, confused by the coins he’d pushed into her hand.

“But sir, I was told ye’d already paid,” she said, eyeing him from behind her thick eyelashes.

Uzul smirked, “I have. But I am thankful for your good service…and you are far too beautiful to be wearing such rags...get yourself something pretty.”

She blushed and smiled, tucking the coins in her apron pocket and regarding him with warm, kind eyes.

“Thank you, sir,” she said sincerely, “allow me to fetch my lute and play you a tune.”

Uzul nodded and watched her walk away, appreciating the sway of her shapely hips as she retreated to the bar.

Her bust had been rather modest, he’d thought, but the curve from her waist to her behind was very appealing.

As he dug into his meal, he decided she’d do just fine.

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Hours later, after she’d played for the guests and accepted tips graciously, the woman he’d learned was named Lynly had left the inn. He followed her at a distance to the small shack she called home that was tucked behind a farm.

Eager to have her beneath him, he jumped her as she stepped into her home.

Large hand clasped tight over her mouth, he pushed her forward and shut the door behind them. Overpowering her was easy, but still thrilling. He stuffed a rag from her apron in her mouth and bound her hands behind her back with a length of leather he’d brought with him.

Grasping a handful of her hair, he jerked her head back and pressed his lips to her ear.

“You struggle and I’ll choke the life from you and toss you in the river,” he threatened, “you understand?”

Wide-eyed and trembling, she nodded, and he pushed her down onto the small bed. He snatched her key and locked the shack door, moving about the small space to ensure all windows were locked as well. When he was satisfied all was secure, he turned to the woman.

She’d rolled to her side and was watching him in the dim light, the small hearth the only source of light in the home. Judging by the look in her eyes, Uzul knew she recognized him.

Not that it mattered.

Uzul set about stripping, allowing his clothes to fall to the floor.

“You behave and I’ll not hurt you,” he told her in a hushed voice as he worked on the laces of his trousers, “struggle and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

He tugged down his trousers, freeing his throbbing cock, and regarded the terrified woman.

Realization as to what was about to happen had hit her and she’d wiggled herself off the bed, her vision blurred by tears.

Exasperated, he heaved her up and back to the bed on her stomach.

She wailed into the gag and he pushed her down as he loomed over her to look her in the eye.

“Stop,” he barked, moving his hand up to grasp the back of her neck, “or I’ll take no care in preparing you.”

Lynly shook violently.

“And then when I’ve had my fill,” he continued, voice a whisper against her ear, “I’ll cut your throat and leave you in the river.”

She took sharp, desperate breaths through her nose and squeezed her eyes shut.

She offered no further resistance, and he hummed, reaching down to tug up her skirts.

Lynly tensed as he rolled the cheap, worn fabric up over her buttocks.

Uzul grasped her arse with both hands, gently squeezing the shapely globes as he appreciated her prone form.

“Lovely,” he praised, teasingly parting her cheeks and reaching up to hook his fingers under the ties of her undergarments, “I’ll take my time tasting you.”

Lynly whimpered, burying her face in the cushion of the bed as her thin undergarments slipped down over her arse. He pulled them down to her ankles and returned to her newly bared skin, parting her cheeks to gaze upon her tender flesh.

He dragged a calloused finger from the cleft of her arse to the dry folds of her womanhood.

“Just lovely,” he appraised, leaning in to breathe in her scent before dragging his tongue up and down her.

Lynly sobbed, form shaking as she laid prone.

The sensation of the stranger’s tongue invading her most intimate places sent shivers of disgust down her spine and she hid her face in the blanket on her bed, desperate for it all to be over with.

Uzul parted the lips of her womanhood, thumbing her clit as he plunged his tongue into her tight hole. He pressed his tongue deep into her, his tusks pinching the tender skin of her inner thighs as he quickened his pace, eager to slick her up.

Pulling back, he pressed a dry, thick finger into her womanhood and started a rough pace, thrusting the digit in and out of her. He sucked her clit hard as he fingered her, eager to pull an orgasm from the trembling woman.

“Come for me, Lynly,” he growled, adding another finger to her stretched hole, “give in…”

She whined into the gag. He could feel the tension in her body and smirked as she pressed into him ever so slightly.

“Do you need a cock in you to find your release?” he questioned, pulling back to position himself at her entrance.

Lynly cried and he grabbed her hips, holding her tightly as he plunged his thick cock into her.

Channel dry and underprepared, her body clenched around him erratically and he groaned in delight as he stilled, buried to the hilt inside her.

She bit down hard on the gag, body tight with tension as she struggled to accommodate his girth. He patted her arse as he shifted behind her, bracing himself over her. She twitched around him at the movement and he chuckled, reaching out to grasp her neck from behind. He gave an experimental squeeze, not wanting to bruise her neck before things really got started, and her cunt clenched down around his cock.

It was too much and he couldn’t hold back any longer.

With one hand braced beside her head and the other grasping her hip, Uzul rocked his hips forward. Lynly gasped and he started a slow, steady rhythm to coax her into enjoyment.

She twitched and wiggled under him and he picked up his pace to keep her still, reaching around her hip to finger her clit.

Still dry, every drag of his cock ached terribly. Pulling out might have ached, but each thrust in was a stab of pain deep inside of her. He was too large for her, too thick. The head of his cock reached the deepest parts of her, hitting what she could only guess had to be her womb.

It was a sensation she found strangely pleasant but fleeting.

His fingers quickened against her clit and she squeezed her eyes shut. Coupled with the prodding deep inside her, she felt herself get slick; much to her shame.

He felt it too and mercilessly flicked her clit, savoring the twitches it pulled from her.

“So wet,” he breathed into her ear, “could you be finding pleasure in this?”

Lynly whimpered and weakly struggled against him.

“Could you be enjoying this? Having a stranger’s cock inside you?”

His fingers left her clit and his thrusts slowed.

“Hush, and I’ll fuck you properly.”

It was all the warning she had before he slammed into her, all care for her pleasure cast aside now that she was wet.

He hissed through clenched teeth.

“Gods, you’re so fucking tight…”

She sobbed as he pounded into her, hammering hard into that sweet spot deep inside her and causing her toes to curl.

“Good…so good…taking my cock like you were made to,” he grunted into her ear, suckling the lobe of her ear, “such a good girl…”

Lynly shook her head into the bed, cursing her traitorous body as her climax neared.

He smirked and pulled back, leaning back onto his haunches and pulling her back with him by her hips. The change in angle had her whimpering hopelessly. It also allowed him to look down and watch her body take him…

The sight of her womanhood stretched around him was glorious and as he felt her clench and quiver about him, he knew she was near. He urged her back onto his cock, meeting her halfway with each thrust. The sharp, short jerks did it and she gasped, arching against him as her orgasm rocked her body.

“Yes,” he hissed, grinning at the sight of her.

As it waned, she let out a pained moan and slumped down, gasping for breath.

Uzul patted her hip and muttered praises to the spent woman.

His cock still hard and his appetite no less, he rolled over and pulled her with him, so she was straddling him. Her sopping cunt pressed to his lower stomach; he was eager to slip back into her.

Reaching up to tug at the laces of her bodice, she looked down at him with glazed, darkened eyes. Laces loose and bodice pulled down, she offered no fight or resistance in the least when he grabbed the thin fabric of her top and ripped it apart with two tugs.

Breasts bare to him, he groaned as he reached up and grasped them tight. She was smaller than Elara had been, but her responsiveness excited him. Nipples hardened by a simple graze from his thumbs, he gritted his teeth and pinched them hard.

She moaned and pushed her breasts out and into his hands.

Uzul smirked and rolled her pebbled nipples between his fingers.

To his delight, she began to rock her hips, pressing her damp lips to his flesh.

“Hush, girl,” he reached down to line himself up with her, “I’ll give you what you want…”

She slipped down onto him, groaning as he filled her anew.

Her body was eager for a taste of what he’d given her before, and she rolled her hips against him, rubbing her clit against him as she chased her peak.

Uzul’s hands left her breasts to hold her hips, encouraging her onward.

The sight of his breasts bouncing with each jerk of her hips and the soft, barely restrained moans she was struggling to contain, were too much. He pulled her down, her breasts warm against his chest. He hugged her to him and thrust upward.

“Do you want to come?” he pressed, pulling his cock from her nearly entirely only to slam back in.

Lynly went slack against him, a moaning mess as he pushed her down. His thrusts were rough, still stinging despite the pleasure he was drawing from her. Exhausted and quivering in extasy as he filled her again and again, she relaxed; all fight in her gone.

Uzul dug his nails into her buttocks as his pace became clumsy.

“Going to fill you,” he said in a single, strained gasp, “f-fill you till you drip…”

He twitched inside of her and she furrowed her brow, nerves bubbling up inside of her as she winced with every thrust.

He groaned when he finally spilled his seed inside her. He held her in place, buried deep inside her, as he filled her.

Spent but by no means finished with her, Uzul whispered praises to her as he rolled her off him onto the bed. Her chest heaved as she panted but he had no intention of letting her rest. She’d found some enjoyment in his claiming of her and he was curious if he could coax more delicious moans and shivers from her body.

Lynly watched him through heavy eyes as he settled between her parted legs. He slowly stroked his length back to attention and locked gazes with her as he used his free hand to part her womanhood.

He smirked, “You are dripping with my seed…”

He pushed a finger into her, crooked it, and began mercilessly flicking a spot inside her she’d never reached herself.

Bucking wildly, Lynly raised her hips to rub into his movements, her eyes wide with undeniable pleasure.

“A proud Nordic woman,” he grunted as he stroked himself, “dripping with the seed of an orc…”

Lynly blushed crimson and tried to stop the shaking of her hips, only for him to press his thumb to her clit.

“Do you want me again?” he asked, already knowing the answer as he withdrew his fingers and leaned over her, “Do you want my cock in you, girl?”

She jerked in surprise as he pressed against her slick folds. To her shame, she was so slick with his seed and her arousal that he slid right into her, filling her effortlessly.

She closed her eyes, turning away from him as he placed his hands behind her knees and pushed them back, spreading her wide.

Uzul salivated at the sight of his length inside of her.

“I can promise you,” he began, pushing her legs back as he laid into her, “I’ll never forget you…”

He bent down to suckle her breasts as he set a steady pace. She clenched down hard about him when he sucked hard, much to his delight.

“I’ll never forget this pretty little cunt,” he said, kissing the soft skin between her breasts as he looked up at her, relishing the sight of her features contorted in pleasure, “I’ll never forget this glorious body. My good girl…”

Uzul needed to fill her again with his seed.

She was too perfect not to.

“Take me,” he bid, pushing her legs back further as he sped up, “take my cock…every inch…”

Lynly threw back her head, eyes wide, as he slammed into her with rough, deep thrusts.

“Take it, take it,” he growled, “fuck…take my cock…”

Whining, she bared down into him to seek the angle that would show her the stars.

Gods damn her, she wanted to see the stars.

Uzul smirked, pausing only to pull her back into them before thrusting into her with reckless abandon; his climax deliciously close.

Lynly reached hers first, spasming wildly around his cock and wailing into the soaked fabric of the gag.

“Y-Yes,” he gasped, thrusts getting shaky, “good girl…”

It was his turn next.

Stilling against her, every inch of his length inside her tight body, he came.

Hard.

Lynly quivered, eyeing him wantonly as she was hit with pulse after pulse of his seed.

Spent, Uzul stopped himself from collapsing on her but made no move to get off her. He eyed her heaving chest and toyed with her breasts, squeezing them and pulling her nipples until her breathing evened out.

Soft inside her, Uzul leaned back and slipped from her body. He watched as his seed leaked from her abused womanhood, squeezing her knees and holding them apart as he leered at the sight, licking his lips.

“Such a good girl,” he praised, kissing her knee.

She jerked in surprise as his thick fingers returned to her cunt.

Surely, he couldn’t be wanting her again?

He saw the fear in her eyes and rubbed the inside of her thigh to soothe her.

“Hush, girl. You’ve sated my thirst. I’ll not take you again…I just don’t want too much to leak from you,” he scooped his seed up and pushed it back inside her, “not when you love it so much…”

Lynly whimpered and he continued, fingers thrusting as he sought to push it back into her. Satisfied, he cupped her womanhood as he reclined beside her.

“You did so well…”

He gazed down at her, gazed fixed on her breasts despite his assertion.

“So lovely…sweet Lynly…”

He wrapped his arm under her and around to squeeze her breast, unable to resist.

“You fit so perfectly in my hands,” he muttered, “and you took my cock so well…were you crafted for me, I wonder?”

He pinched her nipple hard, thumbing the hard peak lazily as he slipped a finger into her aching cunt.

She jerked slightly at the intrusion.

“So much of my seed is inside you…perhaps one took root?”

She gasped, turning away from him.

Uzul hummed, rocking against her.

To her horror, she felt that he was half-hard against her hip.

She wanted to remind him of his own words, that he’d not take her again.

But she could only moan into the gag.

His lips on her nipple silenced her fears.

His finger inside of her womanhood cleared her mind.

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Uzul took her twice more through the night.

Each time, while his cock hardened anew, he busied himself by exploring her body.

There was no part of her he hadn’t rubbed, fingered, or kissed.

The third time he claimed her, he adjusted her bindings, allowing her arms a much-needed break. As she relished the slack on her joints, Uzul bound her hands anew and hooked them over the low bed post. He fucked her hard into the mattress.

As she recovered, his finger had teased the tight rim of her arse as his tongue flicked rapidly over her clit.

She’d come with a gasp, her body shaking uncontrollably.

The final time he took her, he unhooked her from the bedpost and had her sit on his lap on the edge of the bed. He’d pushed his cock into her and lifted her legs, leaning back some as he thrust.

It allowed her a beautiful view of his cock sliding in and out of her dripping cunt.

Spent, he’d held her afterwards, groping her as she drifted off.

When she awoke hours later, she was naked, unbound and alone.

Chapter Text

Elara did as she was bid, shifting to her hands and knees as her patron freed his cock from his trousers.

His calloused fingers poked at her folds, only to replaced by the warm, blunt head of his cock. He pushed into her in a series of short, impatient thrusts; her womanhood underprepared.

He growled in frustration and slapped her ass, earning a startled gasp from her.

As he slowly, roughly worked himself into her, she squeezed her eyes shut and fell to her elbows to bury her face in the sheets of the bed.

Finally, inside of her, the patron gave a low sigh of contentment, relishing the tight squeeze of her.

“Lovely,” he muttered, squeezing and smacking her ass as he pressed his cock into her.

All air pushed from her lungs, she hissed through clenched teeth at the sharp pain.

Oblivious to her discomfort, he set about a rough pace, bottoming out inside of her with each thrust.

“Look up darling,” Belethor bid from his seat across the room, “let me see your pretty face.”

Biting her lip, Elara eased herself slowly back to her hands. The patron took the opportunity to reach around and grasp her swaying breasts, palming them greedily as he continued thrusting.

“She’s yours to use,” Belethor reminded the patron, palming his own hardening cock through his trousers, “fuck her like she’s meant to be.”

The patron laughed and pulled her up, hugging her to his chest. He squeezed her breast with one hand, dropping the other down to finger her clit. The position put her on display for Belethor, allowing him a generous view of her body and the cock sliding in and out of her cunt.

The patron pinched her clit and she winced.

Coupled with the sharp thrusts of his cock, it was all too much.

Elara moaned, rolling back her head to rest on his shoulder.

She wanted to plead for mercy but knew it would fall on deaf ears.

It always did.

So, she closed her eyes and sunk into it, moaning as the man used her for his pleasure.

“Tell him,” Belethor commanded.

“I-I love it,” Elara gasped, tentatively reaching up to pinch her nipples as he fucked her.

His fingers left her clit to grasp her hips anew, his movements erratic and sloppy. It was enough to cast her from the plateau she’d been nearing and bring her back to the moment. There was only the dull pain in her cunt, the ache each thrust brought and the tears of shame welling in her eyes.

He stilled inside of her with a long groan as his seed spilled.

Elara bit her quivering lip as she felt each pulse of him inside of her, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding when he finally let go of her. She fell forward to the bed and let out a sharp cry when he pulled his softening length from her abused hole.

She remained like that as the man dressed.

Before he left, he playfully patted her ass.

When the door shut behind him, Belethor stood and tugged down his trousers before sitting once again.

“You did so well, my dear,” he said as he stroked himself, “come and show your appreciation.”

She slipped from the sweat and seed soiled bed, approaching him on shaky legs. He bid her to stop right before her and she complied.

“Lovely,” he slipped his hand between her legs, his fingers between her folds, “can you take more?”

Obediently, she nodded, and he slipped a finger into her sore body.

She couldn’t halt the wince of pain that reverberated through her body.

Belethor’s finger stilled inside of her.

“Tender, my dear?”

She licked her lips and nodded meekly, unsure what to expect from her keeper.

He pulled his finger from her and leaned back expectantly.

“Straddle me,” he ordered.

Her heart sunk but she did as she was told.

Reaching out to grasp his shoulders for balance, she shifted herself over him. His cock brushed up against her womanhood, but he made no move to enter her.

Wrapping an arm around her to keep her in place, Belethor grabbed her breast with his free hand, rubbing her nipple to a peak with his thumb.

“How many cocks have you known since coming into my care?” he wondered, leaning in to suckle at her breast.

Elara whimpered and his grip on her tightened, pulling her close.

He made to suckle her neglected breast, pulling hard on her tender flesh. He rocked his pelvis against her, his warm cock sliding against her folds.

Pulling from her breast with a pop, he lifted her hips and slid his cock into her.

Elara grunted and squeezed her eyes shut as she grasped his shoulders. Fingers digging into him hard enough for her knuckles to whiten; a shaky, desperate whine leaving her lips.

Watching her face to appreciate her response, Belethor grabbed her hips and started easing her up and down.

“Of all of them,” he muttered between gasps, “whose do you crave?”

Elara opened her eyes and looked down at him through her lashes, catching his lecherous gaze ogling her bouncing breasts.

“Y-Yours,” she whispered, grimacing as his pace quickened.

The angle allowed him to reach such depths within her that she felt completely and totally full, possessed. Coupled with her body already being used by another, she was hypersensitive. His length pushing against her womb, the coarse hair at his pubic bone rubbing against her clit with every roll of her hips…

“My what?” he hissed, hugging her to him and jerking his hips upward to fuck her harder.

She gasped with each sharp, short jerk of his hips.

“Y-Your cock!” she exclaimed, overwhelmed, “I-I-I want your cock! Only yours!”

Belethor smirked.

Nearing his release, he picked up his pace again and buried his face in her bosom as she pressed to him. He licked between them before sucking the tender flesh hard, eager to mark her as his.

Elara gave a low, pained whine as he held her tightly, his seed spilling in her.

Shaking, Elara looked upward as she wept, his arms still holding her tight to him as his cock softened.

When he finally slipped from her, Belethor’s lips returned to her nipples. His hands explored her body, grasping and pinching her stomach, back and buttocks. When he reached her thighs, he let go of her nipples to look down to where they’d been connected. Licking his lips, he slid his fingers through her slick, tender folds. His index finger circled her sore clit and she bit her lip to stifle the cry of pain that threatened to leave her.

Elara’s hips jerked upward, and she pleaded desperately to the gods that he didn’t have it in himself to have her again. She was so tired and sore; and so very desperate for the relief only a long and hot bath could offer her.

“Tender, dear one?” he asked, tongue flicking her reddened nipple.

She nodded.

His fingers remained upon her folds and, to her horror, continued downward to probe her womanhood. Swirling around inside of her, fingers searching, it was almost distracting enough to not notice his hardening cock against her thigh.

Almost.

Chest heaving from short, panicked breaths, Elara watched him with scared eyes as he coated his fingers in their mixed juices.

To her horror, he then pressed his slickened fingers to the tight rim of her arse.

She jerked against him and he shushed her, urging her back down.

“Calm,” he bid her, “your poor, sweet cunt has been so good…but this tight little arse of yours hasn’t seen a good fucking yet today.”

She winced as his finger pressed into her, breaching her tight hole with little strain thanks to her slick. As he added another, she hid her face in the crook of his neck and whimpered, shaking as she tried not to pull away.

“Can you take me, dear one?” he teased, his breath against her shoulder, “can your sweet little ass take my cock?”

Unable to speak for fear of squealing, Elara nodded into his shoulder.

It was all he needed.

Removing his fingers, he lined his cock up with her and worked himself past the tight, quivering rim of her arse. The head of his cock finally inside of her, he pushed her downward to force the length of his cock inside.

Elara cried out and he smiled as he palmed her breasts.

“Fuck yourself on me,” he ordered, leaning back some to watch her as he fondled her, “go on.”

With tears in her eyes, she rocked back. Since having a man…this way…it had become somewhat easier. It didn’t blind her with a searing pain like it had with the first man, but it was still wildly unpleasant.

She assumed that was why Belethor seemed to enjoy taking her there himself, forbidding her many gentlemen guests from taking her there no matter the coin they offered.

Each time he took her in this manner, she felt more and more like he owned her; like she was a debased creature there solely for his pleasure.

As she settled into a rhythm, Belethor crudely thumbed her clit.

“Exquisite,” he cooed, “I want to hear you, dear one.”

Elara stammered, unsure, and her pace stilled.

Frustrated, Belethor grasped her by her buttocks and stood, commanding her to wrap her legs around him. As he walked her to the bed, Elara grew fearful of the anger in his eyes.

Desperate to spare herself further pain, she tentatively began kissing his neck. She was hopeful it was enough enthusiasm to appease him.

It was not.

When they neared the bed, Belethor allowed her to fall back onto the soiled sheets. Cock half inside her, he pushed back her legs, hooking his arms behind her knees. He looked down to where they connected, hissing in excitement, before glancing upward to look her in the eye.

“I’m going to fuck your arse hard, dear one,” he told her, voice a growl, “you’d do well to moan for me.”

Bearing down into her slowly, his cock slid back into her. When their thighs touched and every inch of him was buried inside of her, he eased back her legs and leaned over her.

And started fucking her roughly.

Mouth open in silent agony, Elara threw back her head as tears welled in her eyes.

Dull, stinging pain burned between them as though it were her first time. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, limp and powerless under him.

She felt as though she was broken, her body twisted and spread and used, while she could do nothing but lie there and take it.

Take his cock.

Grunting above her, Belethor slammed his hips hard into her repeatedly. The only sound in the room were his gasps and the rapid, lewd smack of their bodies striking with each thrust.

He shifted against her slightly and renewed his thrusts. The new angle better rubbed his pubic bone against her sopping womanhood, stimulating her swollen clit. Overcome by it and the tightening coil of desire twisting deep inside of her, she moaned despite herself.

Chuckling triumphantly, Belethor rocked against her. He slipped his hands upward to grasp her breasts, holding them tightly as he repeated the motion.

Helpless, Elara groaned.

“Good,” he hissed, “good, dear one…”

Edging closer to the relief she sought, Elara’s lip trembled in shame as her body reacted of its own accord.

She wanted more.

Gods damn her, she wanted more.

“P-Please,” she muttered, startling him enough to still his thrusts.

Much to her body’s frustration.

He regarded her, brow arched and sweat trickling down his face.

“H-Harder,” she whispered.

He smirked, “What was that, dear one? Speak clearly.”

Elara licked her lips and he greedily squeezed her breasts to encourage her.

“Please…f-fuck me harder.”

His only answer was his desperate, clumsy renewal of his thrusts.

Elara wailed, her voice a long, wanton cry over the wet sound of his balls striking her buttocks with each thrust.

Eager to spill in her, Belethor stretched over her, spreading her wide as he fucked her with abandon, his hips pistoning into her.

He was close, so close.

“You are mine,” he managed, “your cunt…your arse…all of you…”

His greedy lips descended on her breasts and she fell apart, body quivering as her climax tore through her.

Her long, frantic cry and the gush of arousal from her covering his groin pushed him over the edge and he spilled.

Shaking over her as he filled her, Belethor allowed her to lower her legs and collapsed atop her.

Elara could hardly breathe but knew better then to attempt to move him. In truth, she was so exhausted from her own climax she doubted she could lift her arms.

When he finally composed himself, he slipped his cock from her abused body and stretched out beside her as he caught his breath.

“I mean it,” he said, hand rubbing over her stomach and down her thighs, “you are mine.”

He reached down and cupped her womanhood as he looked her in the eye.

“I’ll not allow another man to buy a night with you again,” he promised, “you’ll remain in my bedroom.”

He lazily trailed a finger up and down the folds of her womanhood.

Elara was too spent to wince but took a slow, deep breath to endure the intrusion.

“You’ll know no other man,” he continued, lips pressing to her shoulder as he continued to explore her, “you’ll know no other cock, save mine.”

Unsure whether to weep for relief or despair, she rolled into him to conceal her face – and her confused reaction - in the crook of his arm.

“I’ll enjoy you every night…and you’ll bestow on me more of those sweet moans…”

“Y-Yes, sir,” she muttered, reaching out to lightly touch his shoulder as his fingers continued to explore her.

“You’ll call me ‘my lord’,” he told her, pinching her clit and chuckling as her back arched from the bed, “and you’ll take all I give you.”

She nodded quickly, eager to placate him.

“Use your words,” he warned.

“Yes,” she gasped, as his fingers continued to work her tender bundle of nerves, “m-my lord!”

Belethor gave a lazy smirk as his fingers slid downward to plunge into her womanhood.

Elara gasped in pain.

“Shall we see if you can take me once more?”

Chapter Text

Riften was every bit as foul as he remembered, but Uzul was glad to have arrived nonetheless. Days of camping out on the roadside, fending off foolish bandits, and hunting for his meals in dreary, miserable weather had worn on him and he was ready to enjoy the comforts a city could offer.

The smell of stagnant water and putrid fish was difficult to ignore however, and he knew it would take many weeks for the stink to leave his leathers.

Uzul nodded to Maul in greeting, sauntering past him without pause.

He headed for the centre of town, intent on restocking his supplies and selling some of the gear he’d stolen from the bandits he’d killed, when a haughty feminine voice caught his attention.

Heart racing and cock throbbing, Uzul tossed some coin into the worn sack a beggar held out and stepped into the main courtyard. His time with Lynly was perfect, but oh-so long ago. He needed a woman. He needed to wet his cock.

The voice rung out once more, and as he approached Madesi’s stall, he spotted the source.

A pretty, slim Bosmer with long, dark hair; clad in a gown of fine velvet with a fur-trimmed cloak. She reeked of gold and from the way she carried herself, he suspected she spent her days looking down on everyone around her.

Not that he entirely blamed her.

She was a pretty jewel trapped in a festering pit of a city.

Oh, the things he’d love to do to her…

They ways he could bring her low…

He swallowed the aroused grumble that threatened to rumbled free, and wordlessly handed off his wares to Madesi.

Behind him, the Bosmer lady laughed.

Madesi sighed.

“That woman is repugnant…”

Uzul gave a disinterested hum, eyeing the Argonian curiously.

“Nivenor,” he answered, tallying up Uzul’s coin and bagging it, “Bolli’s wife. Likes to taunt the beggars and bed anyone that strikes her fancy right under her husband’s nose…low, low morals.”

“Thought everyone in this city had low morals,” Uzul grumbled, giving the Argonian a smirk.

Madesi chuckled, “Everyone but me, my friend. Everyone but me.”

Night had fallen.

The inn was bustling with activity, music and drunken mayhem spilling out onto the streets. In dark corners, whores plied their trade. But Uzul wasn’t interested in paying them a visit. He had a far more precious jewel in his grasp.

Nivenor fought, and he clasped a hand over her mouth as he ushered her towards the secluded garden of an abandoned house.

She was light, and when she tried to kick him, he merely picked her up and hurried into the shadows.

“Hush, woman,” he whispered, “I’ve heard you like this…”

Safely in the shadows, he sat her back down on her feet and tugged on her fine clothes with his free hand. As the velvet tore and glimpses of her beautifully tanned, freckled skin were revealed, he felt a rush of excitement course through his veins.

This woman – Nivenor – was used to the fine things in life. Everything about her screamed as much. There was something poetic about what he had planned for her. Something poetic about mounting her in the shadows, in the mud, like she was a common whore.

“Beautiful,” he hissed, grabbing a handful of shredded velvet, “so beautiful…”

He worked quickly, gagging and binding the petit woman and forcing her to her knees.

“I’ve heard you have an appetite…one your husband can’t possibly sate on his own.”

He knelt behind her, tugging down his leathers with one hand and palming her smooth stomach with the other, keeping her from falling forward.

“Let’s see if I can help you…”

Uzul groaned as he finally freed his cock, eyes practically rolling back in ecstasy as he pressed up against her shapely rear.

“Gods, what a sight…”

He rocked his hips, rubbing his cock against her and smearing an obscene amount of precum over her soft skin.

“You’re a tiny little thing, really,” he reached up to cup and squeeze her breasts, “have you ever fucked an orc?”

Nivenor went ridged, sobbing weakly into the ball of fabric he’d shoved in her mouth.

“I guess that’s a no,” he said with a low laugh, “don’t worry, if you behave…I won’t forget to make it good for you.”

Uzul gave her nipples a teasing tug.

“And it can be,” he licked the shell of her ear, “I can make you forget your husband…”

Nivenor gave an angry growl into the gag, twisting and writhing in his hold in a weak bid to break free.

“Don’t be like that,” he chided.

He shoved her forward, chuckling as she made an indignant sound upon striking the muddy ground, and grasped her hips. Head spinning with excitement, he bit his lip and gaze down. Nivenor was a slender woman, but her hips were wide and the spattering of freckles over her skin were enthralling. Mindlessly, he wondered if he would have enough time to find and count each one.

His focus settled on her neatly trimmed mound and, ravenous, he slipped his thumbs inward and parted her.

Much to his amusement, she was wet; tender flesh glistening with arousal.

He clicked his tongue and murmured his approval before slipping one finger into her quivering entrance.

“Even now – scared and naked in the mud – you’re the town’s whore, Nivenor.”

She whimpered, gasping as his thumb found her clit.

Uzul smirked.

“You’ve allowed every other man in town a shot, it’s only fair I get to try you out…wouldn’t you say?”

He slowly circled her clit with his thumb, teasing out shivers of pleasure that made Nivenor tremble.

“You’re a tiny little thing, pet…”

She moaned.

“I’ll try not to break you.”

Uzul gave her a moment to get accustomed to his grith, then quickly set a rough, punishing pace. He could see and feel the discomfort in her body, but aside from a weak attempt to break free when he first filled her, she was on her best behavior.

“Good girl…”

He fucked her hard and fast into the mud, groaning into her shoulder and fisting her hair as he folded himself over her.

“You like orc cock?” he taunted, rolling his hips, “pretty, noble lady like you?”

Nivenor whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Like rutting in the mud with an orc?”

He paused, heaving them both up, and gripped her hips.

“Like the filth we all know you are…”

She was sinfully tight, sinfully soft, and he slowed his thrusts to savor the hold her body had on him. Looking down, he smirked.

“Oh, your poor cunt…”

She was stretched to her limit to accommodate him, her slick and tender flesh tight around his cock. She would feel him in the morning…she would feel him, long after he left her.

“You must be so full…so sore.”

He pulled her back onto his cock with each thrust, pushing pained grunts from the petite Bosmer.

“You’re doing so well, pet.”

Uzul pulled out, groaned at the sight of her body gaping, then slid back in. Deep.

Nivenor wailed.

He spilled in her, sighing in contentment as she used what little strength she had left to try to fight him off. It was no use, of course. He spilt with a barely stifled cry; his hips pressed flush to her.

His seed dripped from her abused body when he withdrew.

Waiting for his cock to harden once more, he rolled Nivenor onto her back. Her hands were bound behind her back, and he was free to wipe the mud from her chest and stomach and explore her at his leisure.

Her breasts were lovely. Small in his hands, but lovely. Undetered by the lingering mud on her skin, he loomed over her…catching her terrified gaze, and dipped down to suckle her.

Nivenor writhed, but he held her firm; laving his tongue over her pert nipple before taking the tight little bud in his lips and sucking.

The sound that left the bound Bosmer wasn’t one of displeasure and he growled, roughly palming her neglected breast as he suckled her.

“It’s alright to like it, pet,” he mumbled into her skin, “you’ve been good…you deserve to come.”

Nivenor shook her head.

“You do…”

He lifted her hips, brought her exhausted body up, and slowly sheathed himself inside of her.

“I know you’re tired and sore, pet. Come for me, and I’ll let you go.”

Holding her in place, he thumbed her clit.

“Give into it…”

Nivenor winced, her body taut with approaching pleasure…

But she stubbornly resisted.

Uzul found it amusing.

“It’s only fair.”

He gave one…two…three sharp thrusts that knocked the wind from her, and returned his calloused thumb to her clit.

“Come for me…”

He felt her twitch and spasm around him and groaned.

“So tight around me, pet…so close.”

Her legs began to tremble but still, as her back arched, she shook her head.

“Deny it all you want,” he growled, “your body doesn’t lie…”

He gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, and held himself deep inside of her. His own release dangerously close, he guided her hips, urging her to roll her pelvis forward and was rewarded with a long, low moan from the pretty Bosmer. She repeated the motion on her own, rubbing her clit against the damp curls at the base of his cock.

“Good little pet,” he grumbled, “use me…there you go…fuck –

Nivenor cried out, the gag just barely muffling her cries of ecstasy.

Pride filled his chest and with his own release so deliciously close, he pushed her into the mud and chased it; rutting her fast and hard.

“Going to f-fill you up, pet…”

Nivenor’s eyes were glazed over.

He hooked his arms under her legs, spreading her open for the plundering, and came with a strangled cry.

He lied.

But he couldn’t help it.

“You’ve got a greedy, greedy body, pet,” he taunted, guiding her into his lap, “impossible to sate…”

She was limp against him, and merely whined when he nudged her hips forward and his cock grazed her.

“Just one more…”

He lined himself up, pressing the thick head of his cock against her abused opening.

It popped inside of her, and Nivenor shivered and collapsed against him; resting her head on his shoulder.

He kissed her cheek, ran a hand up her back…

“One more…then you can go home.”

He pushed inside of her.

When she was limp and utterly divorced from her body, Uzul stripped the remnants of her clothes from her body. He cleaned the mud and his seed from her chest, pausing to lavish gentle kisses on her reddened nipples.

He slowly worked the gag from her mouth and kissed her cheek.

“You did well, pet.”

Nivenor took a deep breath but remained silent.

He lifted her into his arms, shifting her so she could rest her head more comfortably against his shoulder.

“Draw yourself a warm bath in the morning,” he advised, “and go to the alchemist…if you don’t want my seed taking root…”

She whimpered and he chuckled.

“Tell your husband to give you a thorough fucking like I just did…and I bet you’ll stop straying.”

He left her in the small, poorly tended backyard of her home; her muddy, tattered cloak draped over her aching body.

Chapter Text

Something must have happened, Hod figured, to dim the usual sparkle in Camilla’s eyes. To quiet her quick-witted tongue. To tame that playful smile of hers.

For a moment, he wondered if Sven and Faendal had made the decision for her and both opted to walk away with what remained of their dignity, but that seemed unlikely. Camilla was a rare jewel and both the man and the mer were stubborn. No. It had to be something else.

It was that curiosity that spurred him onward, out of the home he shared with his wife and son, and down the winding cobblestone path. The Riverwood Trader was only going to be open for a bit longer, and if he was to get a glimpse of the woman that haunted his dreams and stirred his loins like Gerder hadn’t in some time, he would have to move quickly.

‘Should I come inside you, sweetling?’

Camilla swallowed hard, kept her head down and prayed to the Gods that no one would step into the shop before she closed up.

‘I will not be gentle, sweetling…you will ache for days…’

But the words on the pages of the book she had open…they just wouldn’t stick in her mind. So, with a frustrated huff, she shelved the tome and leaned against the counter. She took a slow, deep breath and tried to recenter herself.

‘Molag Bal has blessed me…to be the first to take such a woman…’

The vile man’s words still echoed in her mind, despite the weeks that had passed since…the ordeal. She’d woken up behind the Riverwood Trader, naked save the coat draped around her, a deep and agonizing pain between her legs…and healing bite marks on her neck.

‘Every inch of you is absolutely lovely…’

She felt as though she was on the edge of madness. Her body wasn’t her own, and when she finally passed out on her small bed each night, the vile mer that had ravished her returned. He teased, taunted…and repeated the abuse he dealt her that night. Sometimes, when she was in a deep sleep, she felt the mer’s hands on the inside of her thighs…felt the stinging pain of her maidenhead being torn away as he shoved his foul…thing inside of her…

‘I’m going to fill you with my cock until you’re fit to burst…spread you open until not an inch of you is left untouched…’

Camilla reminded herself that he was gone. She was safe. His seed hadn’t quickened in her womb…and his foul disease hadn’t corrupted her. But then the voice, the quiet and nasty one that told her time and time again that it was her fault he’d caught her off guard, told her that he was still out there. That he would return.

The door opened, the small bell above it chimed, and Camilla practically jumped out of her skin as Hod appeared.

“Apologies!” he said quickly, eyes wide, “I didn’t mean to startle you –

“It’s alright!”

She was far too quick to be believable, but Hod had the good grace not to call attention to that.

His smile was warm and friendly.

“It’s late, I know…but Gerder sent me,” he explained, approaching the counter, “do you have salt and potatoes? I should have picked them up earlier but…”

He shrugged, and Camilla managed a smile.

Hod worked hard at the mill with his wife. No doubt the task escaped his mind while he was hard at work.

“Of course.”

She turned and grabbed a sack of potatoes from under the counter. She’d sold a handful or two other the course of the day, but there was still a good amount left.

“How have you been then, Camilla?” Hod asked as she searched for the salt.

Her shoulders stiffened some, but she did her best to smother her discomfort. She was still the same woman she was before…before…

‘By night’s end I will have taken you in ways that would make a whore blush crimson…’

“Well,” she managed, shooting him a small smirk over her shoulder, “we’re busy, Lucan and I.”

Hod was quiet, and Camilla reset her focus on finding the salt he needed.

Just as her fingers grazed the pouches of salt Lucan had portioned out, Hod spoke.

“You seem quiet lately, is all.”

Camilla tried not to be bothered by his words. It was Hod after all. His family had been among the first to greet her and Lucan when they’d arrived in town. He and his wife were good. A bit too observant for their own good, perhaps…but Camilla could hardly blame them for that.

No, she just needed to focus on better concealing her pain.

Because nothing had happened. She was still the same woman she was yesterday, a few weeks ago…

Nothing had changed.

And maybe if she told herself that enough, she’d start believing it.

“Sven or Faendal giving you any trouble?”

Camilla swallowed the bile that had risen in her throat and shook her head.

Gods, Sven and Faendal…

She’d avoided them both, though neither of them had done or said anything out of line. She just…couldn’t consider being with either of them, telling either of them…

‘I haven’t had my fill of you yet…’

She was sullied. Used. Her pain still fresh and sharp.

And while she felt like she knew them both well enough to say that neither would likely judge her, she couldn’t bare the idea of laying with a man again. Of feeling Sven kiss her breasts and seeing him. Of feeling Faendal graze his fingertips along the idea of her thighs and seeing him…

He – whoever he was – had taken something that should have been special and turned it into something terrifying and vile.

Her hatred of the stranger flared anew.

“No,” she managed a smile, “no, they’ve been fine. I’m fine.”

Hod didn’t seem convinced, but carefully counted out his coin, adding a few more atop the neat little pile with a kind smile.

“For your kind service.”

His voice was warm, friendly and Camilla’s own smile became a bit more sincere.

“Thank you, Hod.”

He nodded, scooping up the supplies.

“Have a fine night, Camilla.”

“You too, Hod.”

Something was wrong, but Hod felt confident that it had nothing to do with the two boys who pined for her affections.

He heaved the sack of potatoes over his shoulder.

Camilla Velarius was beautiful. He’d traveled quite a lot in his youth, been to every province and spent many nights with one wench or another wrapped up in his arms…and yet, there was something about her that drew his eye. Demanded his focus.

She deserved a better man than the two that followed her about, spouting awful poetry and digging up weeds from the roadside to present to her as gifts. No…a woman of her caliber deserved much, much better…

Hod swallowed hard.

Gerder was a good wife, a good mother to his son…but she didn’t get his heart racing like merely being in Camilla’s presence did. As she searched for the salt behind the counter, he ogled her to his heart’s content, fantasized about bending her over…hiking up her skirts and showing her how a real man could care for her…

And maybe that was just what she needed?

Camilla checked and double checked the locks on both doors. Lucan wouldn’t return until the morning, his journey back from Whiterun having been delayed by the whisper of a new, lucrative deal, which meant that she had another night on her own to make it through.

Lucan had been far from kind or supportive since finding her naked and cowering those few weeks ago, spewing filth as hurtful as the mer who’d raped her.

‘You brought this on yourself! Teasing men like no one could touch you!’

But being alone…

‘Let it go, sweetling…’

The memories of that night wiggled free of her tight hold on them, infiltrating her dreams and making her paranoid. The wind whistling against the shuttered windows was a man trying to break in. The groaning of the house against the raging weather was a man trying to kick in her front door. The dark shadows were sanctuaries for him, and the moment she closed her eyes and dozed off…he’d emerge. He’d emerge and he’d tear at her clothes, paw at her body –

Her chest tightened suddenly, painfully, and Camilla forced herself to take a few steadying breaths.

One more night, she told herself. One more night, and she wouldn’t be alone.

She continued her end-of-day duties. The day’s wages were entered into their logbook, and then tucked away in the safe under Lucan’s bed. The fire was tended to, and she took one more long, worried glance at the door and its heavy lock.

I’m safe, she told herself, ascending the stairs once more to change into her nightgown.

Hod wasn’t one for sneaking or subterfuge. He was a Nord, built for the frontlines, but he made the shadows his friend now, slipping into them with far more grace than he would have thought himself to possess when he woke that morning.

His dark trousers and linen shirt helped, but it was the potent tonic he had stowed in his satchel that truly gave him confidence.

He’d perfected it over the years, through many trials with his wife, and knew it to be effective. One deep whiff, and Camilla would be powerless.

His heart raced and his cock strained painfully against the fabric of his trousers, having stirred to life the moment he slipped from his home – leaving his drugged family behind – and started for the Riverwood Trader.

It was late, just past midnight, and he knew if he wanted to catch her alone it was the time to strike.

He’d stumbled upon it by pure luck, the fact that Lucan was delayed. Gerder had heard Camilla say as much in the inn, and relayed it without a second though; mindlessly filling him in on interesting things she’d heard.

Since speaking to Camilla just before closing the night before, Hod had been frantically racking his mind for a way – any way – he could be alone with her. To be handed it so quickly made him wonder if one of the Daedric princes were watching? Molag Bal himself maybe?

Hod wasn’t a religious man, but if he managed to pull this off, well…he’d make sure the prince got a generous offering to show his gratitude.

Hod watched the guards’ movements carefully, then slipped past them and ascended the outer stairs to the upper level of the Riverwood Trader; where he knew Lucan and Camilla’s beds must be. He drew a lockpick and shiv from his satchel and carefully, oh-so carefully, began to work on the lock.

If you’re watching, Molag…move the tumblers for me. Help me get to her…

He was too focused, too ravenous to wonder why his appetite for the comely Imperial seemed so insatiable the last two days. All he knew was the need, the blood-boiling want for her that needed sating.

The Daedric prince heard his prayers, and the tumblers clicked into place. He reined in his relief, and cautiously stashed his supplies back into his satchel, grabbing the tonic and a handkerchief instead.

Camilla stirred, memories masquerading as dreams having roused her.

‘I will not be gentle, sweetling…you will ache for days…’

She whimpered, feeling the ghost of the mer’s hands caress her body.

She had ached. Badly. But she’d also found release, to her great shame.

‘I’m going to fill you with my cock until you’re fit to burst…spread you open until not an inch of you is left untouched…’

“No,” she mumbled, still drowsy, “don’t…”

What sort of woman did that make her, to give in so easily? To allow her body to betray her?

 ‘Let it go, sweetling…’

Was that all it took? A few taunting words while a monster used her? Defiled her?

Camilla heard the faintest creaking of a board, and her brow furrowed. She reached up to rub at her eyes, still closed and heavy now, as she tried to open them.

“What –

Something pressed against her mouth and her eyes shot open…and her stomach dropped.

A hulking figure loomed over her in the darkness.

“N-No –

The man pressed down hard, dropping his weight onto her before she could truly process the threat.

She screamed, but the rag muffled it and…something was wrong…

Her head spun violently and her vision blurred.

N-No…please…

The man shushed her, and she forced her heavy arms up, trying to scratch at him.

“Close your eyes, Camilla,” the man whispered, the poison she’d breathed in preventing her from placing the voice.

She wanted to scream, wanted to fight, but her body was betraying her once more.

Her arms fell down over her head, as heavy as lead. A wave of vertigo and nausea washed over her, and she blinked away the tears that that filled her eyes.

Please…no…

Hod kept the handkerchief over her mouth for a moment longer, both to allow the tonic more time to take effect and to allow his own racing heart to calm some.

He’d done it.

Camilla was here, before him, under him…limp and pliant.

“That’s it, darling,” he soothed, setting the handkerchief and tonic aside and shrugging off his satchel, “I’ll take care of you…sleep…”

For what he had planned, he suspected he would need to dose her again, so he made sure the tonic was within reach before unbuckling his trousers.

Camilla’s nightgown had risen up in her struggle, exposing her shapely legs. He sucked in a sharp breath at the sight, and let his belt drop. His cock could wait, he had to savor the beautiful woman before him.

He worked quickly, locking the door he’d come through before tying a blindfold around Camilla’s face and risking lighting a single candle.

Only then did he touch her.

“Gods,” Hod murmured, his rough hand running up her soft leg, “Camilla…”

It had to be an afront to the gods to be so soft, so perfect.

He crouched between her legs, nudging them apart a bit more, before lifting up one of her legs and pressing a firm kiss to her ankle.

“I’m going to enjoy every moment of this, sweetling…”

He squeezed her calf and smiled as a drowsy groan left her.

“You like that?”

He kissed the spot he’d squeezed, then continued downward.

“I’ve always loved your legs, sweetling. Wanted to get my hands on them…on you…”

Sweetling?

Panic raced through her.

It was him.

He’d come back for her.

And try as she might, her damned body wouldn’t cooperate. She was powerless; the only movement she seemed capable of making was a twitching in her fingertips and the only sound she could make was a moan.

Gods, why is that all you’ll let me do?

Rough hands ran down her leg.

Lips peppered kisses on her skin and she shivered, petrified as the skirt of her nightgown fell back.

“Are you wet, sweetling?”

No!

He let her leg drop, and pulled her down the bed before tugging the nightgown up. And up. Over her belly, over her breasts, baring her body to his gaze, his touch.

No! Stop!

“Sweetling, look at you…”

He palmed her breasts and she groaned.

“Like that?”

He alternated between soft and rough squeezes, as if he was appraising her breasts, testing the feel of them in his hands. A low grumble left her in protest, but he merely leaned over her and then –

Camilla gave a surprised, nasally groan as his lips closed around one of her nipples.

It’s happening again…because I’m weak…and dirty…

Soft lips and a skilled tongue coaxed her soft nipple into a tight bud, and his ministrations grew rougher. He pinched it with his teeth, tugging, before sucking her deep and hard before letting her go with a wet pop.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, “such beautiful breasts…”

Camilla gasped for breath.

“You like being handled rough, sweetling? Like being suckled hard?”

No –

He descended upon her neglected breast, abusing her soft nipple until it was as slick and tender as its twin.

“Imagine…with a babe in your belly…I could drink from you, Camilla. Suckle you like a babe does…”

Her stomach rolled.

He grasped her breast and squeezed it hard, tongue laving over her nipple.

“Is that what you want? A babe in your belly?”

NO!

“Alright…”

Her head pulsed, a deep pounding pain that made her mind spin violently.

What did he give me? W-Why? Why didn’t he bite me?

Thumbs hooked under her smallclothes.

This…is this the same man? Mer? He…the first was mer…right?

Bare and cold, Camilla screamed inwardly at her body to move.

Her hips moved ever-so-slightly, but that was it. She choked on a sob.

Strong hands bent her legs, nudging them apart.

NO! NO! STOP!

Hod dug his fingers into her lush thighs, holding them back as he settled between them. Her dark curls were neatly trimmed and he pressed his face against them, her mound, and took a deep breath.

Her scent was divine.

“I’ll take care of you, sweetling…”

Tender, soft pink flesh peaked out and he groaned, slipping his tongue down her cleft and opening her up.

Yes…gods…

She wasn’t wet, but that was alright.

He’d get her there.

Spreading her with two fingers, Hod set about enjoying his feast.

Camilla moaned and weakly wiggled her hips, trying to break free, but was powerless to do anything more.

Drunk on his want for her, he explored her…thoroughly. His tongue wriggled into her opening, swirling around and popping into her. Pushing deep, as deep as he could, to lap up her arousal as he coaxed it from her.

Perfect…she’s fucking perfect…

His fingers replaced his tongue, scissoring inside of her while his tongue settled on her clit.

Tremors of pleasure racked her body and she practically vibrated as he lavished his affections on her.

“Hmm, such a pretty little cunt…”

Camilla grimaced, and he smirked.

“That’s what this is, sweetling…a cunt.”

He kept his fingers inside of her, but kissed his way up her body. He paused at her breasts – gods, her breasts – before nipping along the curve of her neck.

“I’m going to fuck you good and hard, sweetling. Pound this pretty cunt of yours, make you see stars…”

She groaned, twisting weakly away from him.

“And I’m going to spill in you…leave you dripping with my seed. Pray to all the gods that one takes, and that I leave a babe in your belly…”

She writhed, his words clearly igniting a new panic in her, and he sat up and reached for the tonic.

“Relax, Camilla…”

She growled through her clenched teeth and he sighed, drenching the handkerchief and pressing it to over her mouth and nose.

“Give in, sweetling…trust me with this…”

Rough hands.

Slick tongue.

Forked.

The devil on top of her had a forked tongue. He was a Daedra, or a vile being sent by one. She was certain of it.

“Oh, Camilla…”

He’d filled her with a rough, desperate thrust that had pushed a weak cry of protest from her.

“Tight,” he said with a grunt, “so tight around me, sweetling…”

It hurt.

He was big. Thick.

Her body was underprepared and unaroused.

But by the time his rhythm became more certain, more vigorous, her body betrayed her yet again.

She was wet.

And he moved inside of her with such ease she wanted to scream and claw him bloody.

“You feel so good…”

Camilla wept.

“It’s alright to cry,” he mouthed her neck, smeared his spit on her skin, “it’s alright…”

A ball of fabric she suspected was in fact her smallclothes was balled up in her mouth. She bit into it as her body was used, willing her anger to overtake whatever poison he’d forced in front of her face.

“Who took your maidenhead?” he lamented, thrusts not slowing in the slightest, “who beat me to it?”

Another monster…

The man raised up off of her some and she sucked in a deep breath through her nose.

They’re drawn to me…

She could feel her breasts sway, but her hands were too heavy to raise to cover herself.

“Fuck…”

A rough hand grasped her breast and squeezed hard.

“I’m so close –

Camilla wailed as loud as she could into the gag.

“C-Camilla…”

He slowed, hoisted her legs up, and slammed into her like an animal.

She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t push him off –

He gasped and spilled, hot pulses of seed shooting inside of her.

N-N-No!

“Y-Yes…”

He collapsed on top of her, softening cock still wedged inside of her.

“Sweetling…fuck…give me a moment…”

Hod flipped her over, and hoisted up her hips so she was on her wobbly knees. He caught sight of his seed smeared between his thighs, dripping out of her opening, and he bit his lip.

She was perfect.

The best he’d ever had.

Soft, responsive – even with the tonic – and tight.

It angered him that some lowly man had already had her, claimed her, but he was determined to make his mark. Ruin her for anyone else…regardless of whether or not she wanted it.

He pushed back into her, chuckling lowly to himself as she cried.

“Hush,” he gripped her hips, “feel it, sweetling…feel it…”

He gave a sharp thrust to punctuate his meaning.

“You love this cock, don’t you?”

He pulled half out, gazed down to see where he was settled inside of her and how her body stretched around him, and slammed home.

Camilla’s pained groan nearly made him spill.

“It’s where you belong…”

He pulled her back onto him, gritting his teeth and he held himself deep inside of her.

“Right here…on my cock…”

She made a pathetic attempt to reach back and swat at him, and he laughed.

“My little whore…”

He was trying to kill her.

It was the only thing that made sense.

He fondled her, drugged her again, and pulled her down onto the floor…onto his cock.

No…

He hugged her to him and moved her body on his own.

A bit of shifting and then –

Camilla mewled as he latched onto her breast, sucked her nipple and then tugged.

Please…someone stop him…

“Camilla…Camilla…”

He swigged down the last of the healing potion he’d brought for himself, and his cock hardened once more.

Camilla was limp on the floor. The tonic and their own exertions had her spent, but there was one more thing he needed to do before he left her for the night.

He ran his cock up and down the lips of her womanhood, slicking himself up with their combined release.

“You gave some fool your maidenhead,” he grumbled, “I want this…”

He pressed the head of his cock to the tight, untried rim of her asshole.

“I want your ass, sweetling. I want it tight around my cock…”

She whimpered, grimacing when he pushed in a bit, but gave no other protest.

“You want me here? Nice and deep?”

He spread her cheeks.

“You’ll feel me…anytime you sit down. Are you sure?”

It was mean, but he couldn’t help it. Some primal part of him had taken the reins, and only later – days and days later – would he realize Molag Bal had been with them in that room, pulling unseen strings. Enjoying every minute of the show he had crafted so easily.

Hod pushed into her, managing to get an inch or two inside of her before her sobs grew louder.

“Relax.”

He nudged her knees apart, pulled back a bit, then pushed forward.

“Open up for me, sweetling…”

He pulled her body back.

“Let me in your ass…”

Camilla’s nails scraped along the floor. Her head bowed, and she gasped, desperate for the air he was no doubt pushing from her.

“Be good…and open…up…”

Nothing made sense. Nothing was right.

She was on the floor, bare belly to the rough wood.

“Fuck…Camilla…”

A man.

There was a man on top of her. He was…there was…

He was ripping her apart.

“Y-Yes…”

A burning, stinging pain speared into her.

“G-Good girl…so good…”

Her mind grew dark.

‘I’m going to take you, sweetling…’

She could hear his labored breathing and her own, low and dazed. His sweat dripped onto her back. His –

Oh, no…

His rough fingers settled on her clit.

No…NO…

His cock was in her ass.

And the wet, messy sounds of their bodies meeting made her moan.

“You like it?”

No.

“It’s alright to like it, sweetling,” he kissed her shoulder, “it’s alright to like having a nice, big cock shoved up your ass…”

You’re going to break me…

But his fingers…and the stinging pain in her ass as he took her…

She wept through her release, trying desperately to drown out the sound of his laughter.

Hod washed up with a cloth and warm water. He stowed the cloth in his satchel, along with the rest of his supplies.

Camilla was naked on her bed.

He hadn’t cleaned her up.

He’d left the blindfold on and the gag in, and had drugged her once more with the tonic. She’d wake up in pain, no doubt, given how rough he’d been with her; but with a blissfully blank mind.

Hod stood at her bedside, and reached down between her legs one more time.

“You took a beating, sweetling…”

He slipped a single finger into her abused opening, and sighed in contentment.

“Your poor cunt…must be so sore…”

He withdrew his finger, only to trace a winding trail up her body with it. He smeared their combined mess around her nipples.

“You’re mine, Camilla. Mine.”

He watched her chest rise and fall in a slow, steady rhythm.

She was deep asleep.

“Mine.”

Chapter Text

Siggy felt like she was going to be sick.

Whether it was because of the stranger by her side who would be her husband in a few short minutes or the delighted smile on Maramal’s lips as he began the ceremony, she couldn’t be certain.

More likely than naught, it was a combination of the two.

“It was Mara that first gave birth to all of creation and pledged to watch over us as her children. It is from her love of us that we first learned to love one another.”

She risked a look at her betrothed from the corner of her eye.

The Altmer’s focus was fixed on the priest but his expression was impossible to read. His cheekbones were sharp, as was the ridge of his brow. He was tall and lean in the ethereal way that all mer were, and she felt out of place by his side.

What would possess a High Elf to take a Nord to wife?

“It is from this love that we learned that a life lived alone is no life at all. We gather here today, under Mara’s loving gaze, to bear witness to the union of the two souls in eternal companionship.”

She supposed he was handsome enough. His skin was warm and golden, and his hair – long and black – was pulled back from his face with a leather tie, woven in a plait that ran down his back. She hadn’t gotten a good look at his eyes, but she suspected they were a shade of gold; as all Altmer seemed to possess.

“May they journey forth together in this life and the next, in prosperity and poverty, and in joy and hardship.”

Valindiil, he’d introduced himself as, when they’d laid eyes upon each other in the brief moments before the ceremony began. An acquaintance of her step-father, though he’d never mentioned the Altmer prior to the night before, when he’d told her what was to come in the morning.

“Do you agree to be bound together, in love, now and forever?”

Siggy loathed her step-father. From the moment he came into her mother’s life nearly seven years ago and swept her off of her feet, he’d treated Siggy and her elder brother with disdain. Her brother had died in the Civil War, falling in support of the Legion, and now it seemed like her step-father had concocted a way to be rid of her – selling her off like a broodmare to this…this stranger.

“I do,” Valindiil spoke evenly, without glancing her way, “now and forever.”

Siggy gathered up the tattered remnants of her courage and held tight as Maramal turned to her.

“Do you agree to be bound together, in love, now and forever?”

She had no idea what Valindiil paid for her, but it was done. Coin, supplies, property…whatever it was had been signed over to her parents. Her step-father would no doubt gamble away his fair share of it, but she hoped that there was enough to benefit her mother and four younger half-siblings. As foul as their father was, the children were innocent and deserved better than the ramshackle house in Ivarstead they called home.

I can do this.

Siggy managed a smile, and nodded.

“I do. Now and forever.”

Valindiil didn’t smile or react to the strain in her voice, but he did turn to regard her properly. Much to her surprise, his eyes were not gold, but a brilliant green. Nothing at all like the green of her own mother’s eyes though, more…more akin to the shade of a fine, polished emerald.

“Under the authority of Mara, the Divine of Love, I declare this couple to be wed. I present the two of you with these matching rings, blessed by Mara’s divine grace.”

Valindiil accepted the rings from the priest and gently slid hers onto her left ring finger.

Her hands shook as he handed her the other, and allowed her to do the same.

“May they protect each of you in your new life together!”

Polite applause filled the hall, and she turned to find her family smiling bright. For the sake of her mother – who protested her betrothal to no avail – she put everything into the smile she gave in answer.

Valindiil let go of her hand and turned to regard a Redguard woman – armed to the teeth – who approached.

It’s done. I’m married.

A new wave of nausea struck her.

She’d married a stranger, a mer her step-father had happily declared ‘friend’ at the steps to the temple. What kind of person did that make Valindiil? Would he lure her into a false sense of peace before revealing his cruelty? Would his only concern be getting children by her?

She felt the color leave her face…only to feel familiar, soft hands grip her arms.

She blinked.

Mother.

“Congratulations, dear,” she said warmly, “you’re a married woman now!”

“I…yes, thank you.”

She pulled her into a tight embrace, and Siggy bit her tongue to keep from whispering a plea of help into her mother’s ear.

It was done.

It would do no good, and only make things harder on her mother.

No, it was better to feign contentment.

“Do you remember all we spoke about last night?” her mother whispered, a hint of unease in her tone, “about what to do in the marital bed?”

“I-I…”

Much to her dismay, she remembered every mortifying detail.

“Yes, mother.”

She was a virgin, but not entirely ignorant. The mechanics of it seemed straight forward enough, but she was in no hurry to be so vulnerable with a complete stranger.

Inwardly, she prayed to the Nine for mercy. If it truly was their will that this had happened, then…

Please let him be decent. Please let him be kind.

“I slipped some of that oil I told you about into your luggage, dear,” her mother continued, “just in case. Rub it over your womanhood before you get into his bed, and it will help.”

Her face flared bright crimson, and she stammered, desperate to find the words –

“Siggy?”

Her mother released her, and she turned to see Valindiil looking at her expectantly.

“Are you ready to leave?”

“You won’t stay in Riften?” her mother queried, surprised.

Valindiil shook his head.

“We’ll see you and your children back to Ivarstead, before continuing on to Falkreath Hold.”

Siggy found her voice.

“We’re…to live in Falkreath Hold?”

Valindiil’s expression was unchanging – calm, composed, and unreadable.

“Yes. I own land there.”

“And a home?” her mother questioned, laughing nervously.

“A manor overlooking Lake Ilinalta,” he looked to her, “It’s my hope you’ll be happy there, wife.”

She’d never left the Rift before. What little she knew of the other holds was gained from well-worn books she bought from wandering traders that passed through Ivarstead. That happened less and less frequently over the years, as her step-father made sure every gold coin brought into the home went into his pocket.

“I-I’m sure I will be, husband.”

The journey to Ivarstead was slow going. Her younger siblings were restless and tired. Her mother was trying and failing to keep spirits high. The carriage driver, a Nord her new husband had introduced to her as Gunjar, was amiable enough, but she didn’t have it in her to chat.

Rayya – the Redguard housecarl of Valindiil – rode a hardy mare alongside the carriage. She’d heard Valindiil order Rayya to remain close to her, and was momentarily touched by the gesture…until the thought that he might think she would run at the first opportunity crossed her mind. Then Rayya’s presence felt like a threat.

Siggy eyed Valindiil, who rode ahead of the carriage on his own horse, next to her father. He didn’t glance back. Not once.

“Are you excited to run your own home, dear?” her mother asked.

Siggy shrugged.

“You’ll have to write to me, tell me how it goes. I imagine Valindiil’s manor is much larger than our home, but I might be able to offer some advice.”

“I…I will, mother.”

“I looked at a map before we left Riften,” she continued, “you’ll be close to Riverwood. I’ve heard it’s a lovely town.”

Siggy merely nodded.

Her mother’s smile fell, and she turned to Rayya – much to Siggy’s horror.

“Can you tell me about the manor, Rayya? I’d love to know more about where my daughter will be living.”

“Of course, my lady. The manor was built by Thane Valindiil. It has a bedroom for his guests, and a large bedroom for any children the Thane has...”

Siggy’s stomach churned. She gripped her seat, digging her nails into the wood to try to breath away the urge to vomit.

“The main bedroom is spacious and warm. The kitchen is manned by our chef, Lierre and there is a well-stocked library and laboratory that the Thane enjoys.”

“And you live there with the other staff?”

Rayya nodded.

“Thane Valindiil was good enough to build an extension to the manor, constructing a series of bedrooms for us all.”

“Who all lives at the manor?”

“Myself, Lierre, Gunjar, our bard Llewellyn, and two guards under my command – Einar and Kaldring.”

“So, it is safe? Secure?”

“Very,” Rayya said without hesitation, “you have my word, my lady, that your daughter will be safe at Lakeview Manor.”

Her mother smiled and reached over to pat Siggy’s knee.

“You hear that, my dear? A full house and a library for you to enjoy!”

Mention of the library had piqued her interest, but she tried to temper her excitement. Lakeview Manor was Valindiil’s home. She hoped that in time, it might feel like home to her too, but…

She turned her focus back to him.

Valindiil…my husband…

She’d shared so few words with him…

“Thane Valindiil will no doubt enjoy showing you around the library, my lady,” Rayya said gently, her features soft, “he often returns from his travels loaded down with books from all across Skyrim. He’ll enjoy having someone to talk to about them.”

Hope sparked in her guarded heart.

“I…that sounds lovely.”

And it did.

Perhaps they’d have a hobby in common?

Perhaps it would be alright after all?

They reached Ivarstead as the sun was setting, and as they unloaded her family at their house – which until that morning had been her own, as well – and said their goodbyes, Valindiil approached her.

He’d kept his distance since leaving Riften, and the sound of his voice jarred her momentarily.  

“We’ll remain here for the night, wife. Risking the roads this late would be unwise, even with Rayya and I to guard you.”

Siggy nodded.

“Let’s head for the inn, Gunjar,” he called ahead, “I owe you all a good meal and a warm bed.”

“That you do,” Gunjar quipped with a familiarity that surprised her, “a good meal and the best mead they’ve got.”

Gunjar pulled their carriage off the main road and Rayya helped her down.

She followed them inside the inn, silent and unsure. Somehow Ivarstead seemed to have changed since the morning. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

“Here you are, sir,” Wilhelm said, handing keys to Valindiil, “your meals will be brought to you shortly.”

“Thank you, Wilhelm.”

He handed Rayya two keys, and then looked to her.

“Come, Siggy. You must be tired.”

She swallowed hard.

It was to be expected of course, that she would share a room with him, but now that the moment was upon them, she felt small, exposed; even as they stood in the inn’s main hall.

He offered her his arm, and she took it with a nod, her gaze downcast.

The room was the largest Wilhelm had, which wasn’t saying much.

Ivarstead hardly had the population to warrant anything more refined than a room just big enough to accommodate a double bed, after all.

Siggy shrugged off her cloak and draped it over the foot of the bed as Valindiil stepped into the room and shut the door. She reminded herself that their meals were being brought to them and that he was hardly going to shove her on the bed and tear at her skirts while they waited.

“W-Will…we leave for the manor in the morning?” she asked, hoping to keep him distracted.

He grunted and she tensed up as he slipped behind her to hang his pack on the lone hook on the wall.

“As soon as the sun rises.”

“I…am looking forward to it,” she licked her dry lips, “seeing the manor.”

He hung up his cloak.

In what little time she knew him, she hadn’t seen him wear anything more than a simple sword on his hip. His clothes spoke to him being a mage. Instead of leather and armor, he wore soft looking trousers and a tunic. Bracers of leather trimmed with fur wrapped around his arms, and an elaborate belt around his waist had a few pouches fastened to it. A part of her was curious as to what they contained.

Rayya said he had a laboratory…maybe he is an alchemist? Most mer –

“It’s peaceful, by the lake,” he spoke, voice barely more than a whisper, “quiet.”

She risked a look his way, and blushed upon meeting his gaze, already set on her.

“You’re young. Younger than Anders told me, no doubt.”

“How…old did he say I was?”

“Eighteen.”

Siggy fidgeted with the wedding band on her finger. She dreaded learning all that her step-father had told Valindiil about her.

“I just turned seventeen. I…imagine he just forgot.”

He seemed to consider it.

“He was eager to be rid of you.”

“I’m another mouth to feed,” she managed, “he wanted me to move out when I turned sixteen, but mother…”

The argument had been vicious. One of the few her mother had actually stepped up and held her own in. In Skyrim, sixteen was the age in which she was considered an adult. By rights, her step-father could have kicked her out. Somehow her mother had bought her more time under their roof, but looking back Siggy wasn’t sure it was a blessing. Perhaps taking her chances out in the world on her own would have been the wiser course of action.

Soft, warm fingertips grazed her cheek and she jerked out of her thoughts, wide eyes looking up at her husband.

“Oh, I…”

He didn’t seem surprised by her jerky reactions or her nerves. But he didn’t smile or offer her words of comfort.

No.

Instead, he dipped down to press a kiss to her lips.

Siggy didn’t move. The softness of his lips was unfamiliar, as was the warmth in her belly that bloomed to life at their touch. He smelled of the earth, of cedar and smoke from a hearth.

His hands settled on her hips, and Siggy whined into the kiss, fearful of what more was to come.

Valindiil broke their kiss, but didn’t pull back. He dragged his lips along her jaw, peppering little kisses on her skin as he went.

“I-I…”

His lips found the shell of her ear, and she bit her bottom lip hard as his warm breath tickled her.

“You,” he breathed, “are so beautiful…”

Siggy’s head spun and she gripped his hand at her hip.

“Husband –

“You can call me Valindiil,” he said with a light chuckle, “or Valin, if you prefer.”

His lips found the curve of her neck and she let her head roll back as she gasped for breath.

It felt divine, but she wanted no part of it.

They were married, but they were strangers to each other. Was it too much to ask that they…hold off on that part of their union?

Siggy was spared from his affections by a sharp knock on the door and a merry voice announcing that their meals were ready.

Valindiil sighed against her skin, but let go and allowed her to step back.

He accepted the tray from Wilhelm, sat it down on the bed, and hurried from the room without looking back.

Siggy was awakened from a light sleep by the sound of the bedroom door opening and the laughter and music from the main hall slipping inside. She cracked open one eye, and caught Valindiil illuminated by the firelight.

I’m still asleep. I’m fast asleep…so he can’t –

He began kicking off his clothes, and Siggy squeezed her eyes shut.

‘You are so beautiful…’

Trousers hit the floor.

Suddenly the worn, simple nightgown she was wasn’t thick enough.

‘I slipped some of that oil I told you about into your luggage, dear…’

The bed dipped and groaned as his weight settled on it.

‘Rub it over your womanhood before you get into his bed, and it will help…’

The oil was with the rest of her luggage in the carriage, which meant she had nothing to ease taking him if he pressed the issue.

Please don’t press the issue…

The blankets were lifted up as he settled on the bed behind her, sending a waft of cool air over her body.

She shivered.

Only for a solid wall of warmth to press up against her back.

No…

Her hair was brushed back over her shoulder, and she tried to control her breathing as his fingers lingered in her chestnut locks.

“My little wife…”

He kissed her shoulder.

“Siggy…”

His hand settled on her hip.

“Wake up…”

No. Please just –

“Let me show you that you’ve got nothing to be afraid of…”

His hand left her hip, slipping around her. He grabbed a fistful of her skirt and eased the material up ever so slightly –

Siggy’s eyes flew open and she jerked in his arms, heart racing with fear.

“N-No, I –

He kissed her neck, ran his hand down the length of her leg, to the end of her skirt.

“You’re safe,” he soothed, “relax and let me take care of you…”

Siggy trembled in his arms.

As her skirt was raised, baring her long legs, she found her voice.

“I-I don’t know you.”

He left the fabric bundled up around her hips and ran his fingertips over her gently, savoringly. The skin of her thighs erupted in gooseflesh.

“And I don’t know you,” he mumbled.

Siggy bit her bottom lip to still its quivering.

“But I want to…”

His fingers ran up the front of her legs, up and under her skirt, and grazed over her smallclothes.

Siggy squeezed her legs together and weakly grabbed for his hand.

“I-I…don’t want to do this with someone I don’t know…”

She hated how her voice trembled, how weak and desperate she sounded. If he pressed, would she go so far as to beg?

Valindiil kissed her neck as his hand ventured upward and settled on her stomach.

No…

His lips parted and his tongue –

Siggy moaned as his tongue met her skin.

“Such sweet sounds,” he breathed, “Siggy…”

His hand slipped downward, under her smallclothes.

Panic rushed through her. She arched her back, bowing away from him as best as she could as he inched ever closer to the apex of her thighs.

“V-Valindiil –

“Has any man ever touched you here, Siggy? Has anyone –

“No!” she gasped, reaching down to dig her nails into his hand, “I-I…”

“I can make you feel wonderful…”

One finger broke free from her hold, and delved between the lips of her womanhood. The contact was like nothing she’d ever felt before, and as she scrambled to break free, he grew bolder.

“Siggy…”

He wedged his leg between hers and then one finger became two.

“Please! Stop –

He grazed the tiny bundle of nerves she’d only dared to touch once or twice, and a jolt of pleasure shot up her body.

“V-Valindiil…”

He toyed with that bud, flicking it lazily until she couldn’t keep her thighs squeezed together.

“So wet…are you excited, darling?”

Each flick eased her knees apart, and to hide her embarrassment she tried to bury her face in her hands.

“Don’t hide from me…”

Her heart was going to burst free from her chest.

“Please –

Something molten was winding up tight in her core, and she shook like a leaf in the wind as he guided her leg back and over his.

“Siggy…let me feel you, darling.”

He manhandled her, slipping his free arm under her and sighing in contentment as he found his way under her nightgown and cupped her bare breast.

Siggy writhed.

This is happening…it’s really –

He pinched her nipple between his fingers and tugged.

The sound that left her was wanton, and she let her heavy eyelids fall shut as warmth bloomed on the apples of her cheeks.

“Good, darling?”

He twisted and tugged, and Siggy relaxed against him. Defeated and unsure whether or not to be terrified of that fact.

“I can do better…give you better.”

His hands left her sensitive skin, but not for long.

He rolled her over onto her stomach, then brought her hips up. Somehow, he was behind her, kneeling between her knees.

“Please…”

It was the only protest she had the energy to give.

Something hot and hard – his length – brushed up against her buttocks, and she shuddered.

“You’re wet, darling. Relax, and your body will take me.”

N-No…

He pressed against her opening and pushed –

Siggy yelped as the head of his length pushed inside of her. The feeling wasn’t painful per se, but it was incredibly uncomfortable and odd. But before she could find her voice, he was pressing forward, pushing another inch inside of her.

“It hurts!” she snapped, “please –

“Relax, Siggy…relax your body.”

She couldn’t breathe.

“Let me in, darling…”

“I can’t!”

She dropped her head, pressing her forehead into the mattress. Her hair fell forward, shielding her face.

“I-I can’t!”

He stilled, and she felt her nightgown pass over her shoulders and head. He reached under her to cup her breasts and she gasped, startled by the sensation.

“So soft,” he mused, squeezing her gently, “and your nipples…”

His fingers found them.

“So sensitive…”

He teased and tugged them, and Siggy moaned despite herself; grimacing when her body opened up and more of his length slipped inside of her.

“You’re doing well, Siggy…”

His voice was hoarse.

“So, fucking tight around my cock…”

He rocked his hips, and a pained sound left her.

“It’ll get better…bare with me, darling.”

The odd feeling was interrupted by a deep stinging pain that made her toes curl.

This is it…the truth…what I am to him…

She held her breath to keep from crying out as he started thrusting into her.

His greedy hands left her breasts, and the moment of relief she felt was smothered as he gripped her anew – one hand roughly gripped her hip, and the other…

Siggy mewled as his fingers returned to the sensitive bud at the apex of her thighs. His pace remained rough, and grew to be punishing, but his fingers remained right there…on her slick little bud…

She gasped and shivered, something deep inside of her spasming as he rutted her.

“You’re close, darling. That’s what that is…”

His fingers quickened their pace, and she had to bit the blanket under her to stifle her cry of pleasure.

“I can feel it. Siggy…”

All she felt was the pleasure he ignited in her. All she heard was the sounds of their gasping breaths, the slap of their bodies meeting as he drew out her pleasure…

Siggy fell asleep with stinging pain between her legs, her husband’s seed dripping out of her, and his strong arms wrapped around her. She awoke to him spreading her legs and hoisting up her hips and had just enough time to blink the confusion from her mind before he was inside of her once more.

Nine spare me…

He filled her with one sharp thrust, and she bucked up off the bed; the discomfort still significant.

He’s going to break me…

His thrusts were rough, eager, and as her body jerked on the bed and her breasts swayed, she grit her teeth and tried to will her body to relax. The sooner she relaxed, the sooner the bliss she had tasted with him in the early morning hours of the night returned.

No…he’s already broken me…

After he spilled inside of her the first time, she wept. Her mind was whirling with a thousand thoughts, a thousand worries and her emotions were raw. But he was slow and gentle the second time, holding her close and kissing her breathless. By then, she realized it was easier to give in…to give him free reign of her body.

“Good girl,” he grunted, greedy green eyes fixed on her sweat-slicked body, “Siggy…”

She looked down her body, and blushed upon seeing his cock hammering into her, glistening with her slick.

How…does he fit inside of me?

“It still…stings,” she managed, shivering as her release drew near, “Valindiil…”

A smirk tugged at his lips.

“Does it, darling?”

He thrust deep, holding himself there until a wanton grunt left her.

“Your body will grow accustomed to it…”

He renewed his frantic pace.

“And it will get easier…”

Siggy wasn’t sure, but only because it felt as though in claiming her, he had remade her body. She needed time to familiarize herself with who she was now.

Valindiil licked his fingers and brought them to her tender little bud, and she found her release, erupting with a strangled cry as her body shook.

What has he done to me?

Aglow with the aftershocks of her release, she weakly clung to his shoulder as he stretched over her. He nipped and sucked angry marks into the skin of her neck, spilling his seed deep inside of her with a long, satisfied groan.

What has he done?

Chapter Text

Elara watched as Belethor broke in his newest acquisition.

The terrified Imperial girl had wept and struggled, clipping Belethor in the jaw with her fist, but hadn’t been able to deny the inevitable. She’d screamed as he stole her maidenhead with a rough, sharp thrust. Pleaded through body-shaking sobs as he spilt inside her that first time…

She wasn’t fighting anymore.

Her body was splayed out on the cot, her breasts slick with sweat and spit. He held her up by her hips as he used her, the sound of their wet bodies meeting making Elara sick to her stomach.

“Fuck,” Belethor groaned, head tipping back as he neared his release.

It was vile and she hated herself for it, but Elara couldn’t help but be relived. If he was abusing someone else, he wasn’t abusing her.

Absentmindedly, she caressed her swollen stomach.

Three months into being exclusively his to use, Belethor had begun feeding her regularly and tracking her cycle. It horrified her when she realized what he wanted, but she had no power, no say. So, she tried to be obedient and appear eager, despite bits of her dying each time he spilled inside of her.

The babe was only two months away. She felt it kick and prayed to all the gods that it couldn’t hear the horror its monster of a father inflicted upon terrified women. She prayed even harder that it wouldn’t grow up to be like him.

Belethor climaxed, his body trembling as he held the young woman close. Elara watched as he caught his breath and let the woman fall to the cot. Even from a distance, Elara could see the blood and seed on the inside of her thighs.

He cleaned himself up with a damp cloth and knocked on the door, signaling one of his guards to appear.

“You and the others can have her for an hour,” Belethor said calmly, “no maiming, no injuries beyond bruises. Do you understand me?”

The Redguard nodded quickly, hurrying to scoop the limp girl up before Belethor changed his mind. At the feeling of unfamiliar hands on her body, the girl perked up and began weakly fighting.

“Hush girl. It’s our turn.”

Elara swallowed the bile that had risen in her throat, blocking out the sounds of her terrified whimpers as she was hauled out of the room.

Belethor tossed aside the soiled rag he’d cleaned himself with and grabbed a health tonic from the shelf.

“Gown off,” he ordered, nodding towards the cot, “present yourself.”

Elara obeyed.

Since first missing her cycle, Belethor had changed. He was gentler, restraining himself from the worst of his sadistic tendencies, but no less voracious. He’d worship her body, sing her praises, and feast on her until she could only shiver and weep. It didn’t matter how many innocent young women he tormented; he’d find the reserves for her.

She let her thin cotton gown fall to the floor and moved to grip the footboard of the cot. Her body had changed and nothing delighted him more than the sight of her heavy breasts swaying as he used her.

“Dear one…”

His soft voice, his praise…she hated herself for how they soothed her.

“Do you ache for me?”

Elara swallowed hard but nodded.

“You carry my son, and yet you still want more of me…don’t you?”

“Y-Yes…”

He gripped her hips and it took everything in her to not recoil.

“Of course you do,” he ran his hands over her shapely rear, “you might soon be a mother, but you’ll always be my whore.”

She gritted her teeth as he pressed the head of his cock between her slick folds, parting her and pressing against her core.

“You’re mine, Elara.”

The midwife forbade warm baths, but Elara asked for a bowl of warm water to be delivered to her room after stepping out of the chilly bathwater. Once it was in her grasp, she soaked a cloth and began scrubbing her body down. Only the scalding heat of near-boiling water seemed to clean the grime of Belethor from her body.

The room she’d been given since being pulled for Belethor’s personal use was quaint. It was still in the bowels of his cellblocks, and still very much a prison, but she had a real bed, a selection of books to peruse, and a few second-hand gowns. It was also heated, but each time she found herself enjoying it, smiling to herself, she reminded herself of the cost.

Her body. Her soul.

Her hand fell to her stomach.

An innocent life.

A soft knock on the door had Elara reaching for her robe.

Belethor strode in, a smile blooming on his lips at the sight of her fresh and bare.

“Dear one…”

Elara stilled, robe in hand, as he approached.

“Gods, I could fuck you right now,” he drawled, hands cupping her sensitive, full breasts, “you’re so ripe…so full…”

Elara gasped as he bent down to kiss the valley between her breasts.

“Alas, you’re entertaining another tonight.”

Elara’s stomach dropped and she felt the color leave her face. If Belethor noticed, he said nothing, attention fixated on her breasts.

“I…don’t understand…”

Belethor hummed against her breast, grumbling as he latched onto her soft nipple and suckled hard.

Her knees buckled, and he grasped her hips to keep her upright.

He swirled his tongue around her nipple, coaxing it to a bud, before pulling back with a soft pop.

“I’ve been selfish, keeping you to myself. Many men lust for a woman ripe with child and a…trusted client wants a night with you.”

He moved onto her neglected breast.

“Which he’ll get.”

He grazed his teeth over her, pulling her nipple into his mouth.

Dread washed over her.

She wanted no man’s touch, but Belethor at least was mindful of the babe in her belly. This ‘trusted’ client…

Dozens of horrible memories flashed through her mind. Each one, a ‘night’ with a client he foisted on her. Clawing, groping, kissing, biting, using her for their desires. So many tears. Bruises. Scratches. Nightmares.

Her heart raced.

Belethor let her abused nipple go and cupped her face in his big hands.

“He’s a brute of a man, but he knows the consequences of being anything less than gentle with you.”

He kissed her lips and Elara let a shaky, scared breath out before trying to feign interest.

“Make him happy, dear one,” he whispered, “be a good little whore for him…and I’ll be a generous master.”

He caressed her stomach, fingertips grazing along the side, and dread settled in her heart.

The man who entered her room ten minutes after Belethor left was a Nord, a mountain of a man, clad in armor of leather, iron and curled, gnarled horn. His blonde hair was cropped close atop his head, but he had a long, knotted blonde beard. The warpaint across his face added to the imposing figure he cut, and she tried to make herself small as he shut the door behind him.

“No need to cower, girl.”

He unstrapped his bracers and sat them on a small table near the door. Mercifully, he didn’t have a weapon, but Elara supposed he didn’t need it. The man was a warrior. He didn’t need a weapon to harm her.

“Do I get to know your name?” he asked, continuing to unbuckle his armor.

Elara licked her dry lips.

“Elara.”

He hummed.

“Hrongar.”

Elara managed to keep her face neutral, but she knew that name. He was the brother of the Jarl. A man with power and position, one Belethor ‘trusted’.

Gods, was the Jarl himself in on the vile market Belethor had hidden in the rock and stone beneath his shop?

Heavy armor hit the floor and Elara blinked the fog from her mind to focus on the threat before her.

Hrongar was all bulging muscle. His chest, his arms, his thighs. All appeared to be sculpted from stone. His cock stood proud and erect, heavy between his legs.

He seemed unbothered and unhurried as he carefully sat his armor aside.

“Do away with your robe, Elara.”

Hands numb, she awkwardly did as he ordered, not wanting to incur his wrath. When he turned to regard her, she was bare, with only her long hair to shield her from the heat of his gaze.

“Beautiful,” Hrongar muttered, approaching her, “Gods, you are beautiful…”

Elara resisted the urge to cover herself and kept her gaze downcast.

“Thank you, my lord.”

Hrongar stepped behind her, and she held her breath as he touched her arms and buried his face in her hair.

“I won’t harm you,” he mumbled, fingertips grazing the sides of her breasts, “I won’t risk your babe.”

Elara shivered.

“But I will have you…”

He cupped her breasts and she gasped, arching against him,

“I will fuck you senseless,” he breathed, lips warm against the shell of her ear, “I will make you forget your name. You’ll beg and plead for more…for harder…for faster…”

His thumbs teased her nipples to tight peaks and she moaned as he tugged them ever-so-slightly.

“And you will take me like the greedy little thing you are.”

Damning her traitorous body to the depths of Oblivion, Elara nodded.

Hrongar liked her.

Elara.

She was pretty, with thick, dark hair and a full, ripe body.

She was afraid, worried for her babe no doubt, but eager and obedient. When he told her to lay down on her bed, she did so quickly and without complaint. He stroked himself as she got settled, groaning at the sight of her heavy breasts swaying as she got comfortable.

“How do you want me, my lord?” she asked nervously, looking up at him with wide, uneasy eyes.

He knelt on the bed.

“On your back,” he fisted himself slowly, “I want to feast on your cunt.”

She blushed, and he salivated as she spread her legs.

“You’ll cum on my tongue,” he growled, inching her knees back, “and you’ll beg for my cock.”

“Y-Yes, my lord.”

Hrongar smirked.

“Good girl.”

He descended on her, parting her with a wide sweep of his tongue before delving into her sweetness.

The sound it pulled from her shot right to his cock.

“Y-Yes…m-more, my lord…”

Such a good girl…

He speared his tongue inside of her, lapping up her slick like a man starved.

“Yes! M-More!”

Never one to be cruel to a lover, even one he paid for, he pressed his thumb against her clit and teased her with firm, slow circles.

She tried to arch up off the bed, but he growled and tightened his hold on her.

“You’re mine, Elara,” he warned, lips teasing her clit, “don’t try to wiggle free…”

He slipped a thick finger into her sopping cunt.

“I’m nowhere near through with you.”

Elara whimpered as Hrongar manhandled her into position. They were standing and she was gripping the side of her dresser, desperate to remain upright as her knees shook, the force of her orgasm still rippling through her exhausted body.

“I want to see your tits bounce as I fuck you,” Hrongar purred.

Elara bit her lip.

He grasped her hip and lifted one leg, and she gasped upon feeling the bulbous head of his thick cock brush against her damp curls. She was slick and ready to take him – he’d been so very thorough with his tongue – but she still worried. Hrongar was a burly man, no doubt used to claiming what he wanted as roughly as he wanted. His cock was also much thicker than Belethor’s, too.

“Please…don’t hurt me…”

Don’t hurt my baby…

The plea left her before she could bite her tongue and she closed her eyes and hung her head in shame. In the past, pleas such as that earned her a rough fucking. She couldn’t bare that punishment now, not without risking the life growing inside of her.

Hrongar kissed her neck, and slowly teased the head of his cock between her folds.

She jerked in surprise and fear as he pressed against her core.

“I’ll fuck you good and deep, Elara. I’ll use you, enjoy you…but I won’t hurt you or the babe. That I can promise you.”

Her head spun as he pushed against her and she felt her body begin to yield.

“Gods,” she moaned, head rolling back, “please…”

“What do you want, girl?” he growled, tongue teasing her ear lobe, “my cock, filling you up?”

“Yes…”

“You’ll take what I give you?”

Elara nodded quickly.

“Good…now, relax while I give you what you need…”

He moved slowly, pressing against her so gingerly she had to grit her teeth to keep from begging him for more, for faster.

The head of his cock slipped inside of her, and she gasped for breath, trembling.

“You’re mine,” Hrongar growled.

“Yes…”

He shifted his hips and eased into her – inch after glorious inch – in one slow motion that had her whining.

“M-My lord –

“Tight,” he gasped, nipping her shoulder, “so tight…”

He lifted her leg, allowing him better access, and she dug her nails into the worn wood of the dresser.

So slowly she was sure he was savoring her, he moved.

“Taking me so well…”

Elara moaned.

“Tell me, Elara,” he ordered, pushing deep inside of her and holding himself there until a strangled cry left her, “tell me.”

Elara blinked back tears of pleasure.

“I-I love your cock.”

Hrongar grunted.

“I-It’s so big,” she bit the inside of her cheek, “I’m so, so full…”

And she was.

It was a tight fit, and each time he bottomed out inside of her a shiver ran down her spine, but he was so slow…so careful.

And she was already so deliciously close to her release…

Please let me…

His hand, gripping her hip, slipped around and down, and she practically screamed as he toyed with her clit.

“You’re mine, girl.”

Yesyesyesyesyes –

He pinched it between his fingers and she keened, lowering her hips down to meet him thrust for thrust. She needed to cum, needed it as badly as she needed the air in her lungs.

“Tell me,” he gasped, “tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had –

“You are!”

Hrongar laughed, but she was too far gone to be mortified.

He slowly dropped her leg and brought his hands up to her breasts. His pace was rough but slow. With each roll of his hips, she was filled anew, and her hypersensitive body was taut with pleasure.

“Cum on my cock, Elara.” He breathed against her ear, “scream and beg and cum.”

He pinched her nipples and bit her neck.

Her grip on the dresser was failing, but all that mattered was the tightening, coiling pleasure of her release drawing near.

“I feel it,” he managed, his voice tight, “I feel how close you are, girl.”

He reached down, his calloused fingers returning to her clit, and she screamed.

She was tired but still so eager, so Hrongar smiled as he reclined on her bed and she made to straddle him.

“Eager to ride me, Elara?” he asked, brow quirked in feigned confusion as she scrambled into place.

“Y-Yes, my lord.”

He nodded towards his cock, still hard and slick with her release.

“Then get to it, girl.”

“Y-Yes.”

She swung her leg over him, and awkwardly settled on his stomach before easing herself back.

Hrongar groaned, feeling her wet cunt glide over his skin.

“I could eat you up, Elara,” he breathed, “fuck…”

She gave a strangely nervous smile before settling down on him once more, a slight grimace flickering across her features as he stretched her anew.

“Gods, right where you belong…”

She rolled her hips, riding him slowly.

“That’s it,” he purred, licking his lips, “take me nice and deep…”

Her small hands settled on his chest and he watched, awed, as she leaned forward slightly for balance and pushed her bountiful breasts forward.

“Do you have any milk for me?” he teased, reaching forward to gently squeeze and plump her breasts in his large hands, “could I suckle you, girl?”

She blushed and averted her gaze, but kept her hips moving.

“You’d taste divine, I bet.”

Her breath caught in her throat and her cunt quivered. Hrongar braced his feet on the foot of the bed and slowly rocked his body, eager to see her lose control with his cock buried deep.

“Ah, that’s good…”

His eyelids fluttered, his balls tight with impending release.

“Sweetest cunt I’ve ever had…”

Elara’s paced picked up, her movements desperate.

Hrongar pulled his hands from her breasts to reach between them. With one hand, he spread her, with the other he quickly stroked her clit in the way he’d learned she liked.

She came with a shattered cry, and he followed not long after.

Elara moaned as Hrongar settled behind her and hoisted her leg up.

He was renewed with a health tonic, and hard and eager for her once more.

She whimpered as his cock slipped inside her easily, his own seed easing the way.

“Good girl,” Hrongar praised, his voice a strained grumble, “taking me like you were made for me…”

He toyed with her clit, with her breasts, and her body trembled with pleasure as a new peak neared.

She hated him. She hated every man that had ever used her, harmed her.

But – damn the Nine – Hrongar’s touches were lovely. She liked the warmth of his body, the callouses on his hands, the weight of his cock, and the tenderness he’d shown her despite buying her body.

Is this it? Have I lost my mind?

He licked and nipped her neck as he fucked her, hands exploring her body and tugging her nipples as he chased one more release.

“Y-Yes…”

She reached behind her to grasp his hips, gyrating against her as he filled her.

“My lord…your cock…”

He nipped the shell of her ear.

“Go on, girl…sing my praises.”

She was too far gone to feel the sting of his smugness.

“So good,” she blathered, “s-so big…”

“No one’s filled you like this,” he growled, “fucked you so thoroughly…”

She could only shake her head.

“You want my seed, don’t you? Want to be so full, it drips down your thighs?”

She gasped and keened as an orgasm tore through her, but Hrongar didn’t stop. He kept whispering filth into her ear.

In the months to come, Elara would look back on her night with Hrongar as the beginning of the end. Because if Belethor would share her once, what was to stop him from doing so again?

And again.

But for now…

She relaxed in Hrongar’s arms and mumbled her thanks as he fucked her so thoroughly, she forgot her own name.