skyrimkinkmeme: (dragon)
skyrimkinkmeme ([personal profile] skyrimkinkmeme) wrote2011-10-29 12:36 pm

Meme Announcements!

ANNOUNCEMENTS: UPDATED 12/16/2017

Happy Holidays, fellow Kinkmemers! I have returned and have no reasonable excuse for my absence except LIFE. I will be working on updating the archives. If anyone sees anything amiss, please let me know.

I am also hoping to find another Mod and an Archivist.

The more dedicated people we have in this Meme the less chance of it dying. I admit that being the sole keeper of the Meme is not great for the fandom. If something were to happen to me, for good, this place would go the way of the Fallout Kink Meme. Let's not let that happen! If anyone would be interested in Modding/Archiving, please drop me a line. Thanks! <3

Horrorfic? Oh, please do!

(Anonymous) 2013-05-11 10:11 pm (UTC)(link)
There needs to be more horrorfic on this meme. Or, at least that's my opinion. Could be the opinion of a lot more people!
OC's, canon characters, OC/NPC, OC/OC, NPC/NPC, OP doesn't care if you want to put in pairings or not, let's just get some creepiness and scary stuff in here!

As the great horror prompters of old once said, "Give me horror fills or give me death! ...Actually, both. Give me both."

Any and all things that are okay in the rules are okay here! Bring your squicks and bring your kinks!

"Divide and Conquer" Ulfric Stormcloak/M!DB, 1a/??

(Anonymous) 2013-05-11 11:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Hello, hello! I'm new to the meme, so if I muck something up, I apologize! Anyway, this is just an introductory chapter, and hopefully it sparks some interest because this prompt really inspired me.


The air was thick with drizzle – that hazy, gray mist that Skyrim was prone to. Audric tended his fire, kept it alive in spite of the rain. He could hardly enjoy it, however, as huddling for warmth was futile and he had only a few measly potatoes in the way of food. With some perseverance, he could probably have reached Ivarstead by a little after midnight, but the weather and the road had beaten most of the perseverance out of him. Instead, he settled for a nook in the mountains and prayed he wouldn’t waken waterlogged – that was, if he slept at all.

The wind howled fiercely through the crags, shrill and unforgiving. His time in Skyrim, short as it was, hadn’t hardened his bones against the cold, so he shivered, falling not so much into sleep as into despondency. He tossed and turned on the lumpy ground, half-dreaming in fits and starts of a warm hearth and spiced mead, of a bed and a someone or two to share it with.

He did not wait for dawn to break before packing up and moving on.

The rain persisted, following him into the foothills of the Rift, a dark cloud chasing after him. Thunder rumbled from above outstretched fingers of birch trees and Audric cursed his dumb luck. Somewhere out there, he figured, Nocturnal was having herself a bloody good laugh.

The sky began to clear just as the little hamlet came into view. Typical.

Though it would bore him half to death, if ever he were forced to stay, Audric loved the villages that dotted the province. Ivarstead in particular was a frequent haunt of his, given the company he often kept. And sure enough, Lynly was there to serve him a hot meal and a few sweet words when he arrived, soaked, inside the Vilemyr.

“Well hello stranger,” she smiled, “long time, no see.”

Frowning, he scoffed, “Oh, it’s only been – what – a few days? A week, at the most.”

“Try almost a month,” she admonished, hand firmly on her hip.

“No.” He apologized then; Audric had a horrible knack for losing track of time. He often got swept up in the places he visited and the people he met there. “I will make it up to you, I promise.”

“I’m certain you will.” With a wink, she left to tend to the other patrons. As delightful as a roll with Lynly always was, he wasn’t sure he was up to it after his trek. He hoped she would give him a day or two to recover before demanding her recompense.





Ten hours of good, hard sleep in a soft bed under a roof saw Audric feeling infinitely more himself. Sleepily, he wandered out into the hall, barefoot. The day was late and dusk filtered in through the high windows, gentle and pale. Sitting at the bar, he cracked his back and plied Wilhelm for news. Of course, there was almost never any big news for Wilhelm to report, only small scraps of gossip or the local tragedies and victories alike – all small, all trivial. And that was precisely why Audric liked to ask. Since that fateful day at the chopping block, Audric’s life had been inundated with big news. Harsh realities and victories so bittersweet, they doubled back into tragedies. He liked small news. It settled his stomach.

Over a steaming bowl of tomato soup, he was handed a wedding invitation. “Oh, that was sweet of Fastred. I love weddings.”

Wilhelm nearly choked. “That’s...weddings don’t seem the type of ceremony that suit you,” he tried politely. “In fact, ceremony in general doesn’t really suit you, my friend.”

Audric chuckled, patiently stirring his soup, waiting for it to cool some. “Perhaps not, but I like a good party, as long as I’m only a guest.”

“Never the guest of honor, then, eh?” The innkeeper teased, though his hopeful glances in the direction of his barmaid-cum-minstrel made Audric nervous.

"Divide and Conquer" Ulfric Stormcloak/M!DB, 1b/??

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 12:01 am (UTC)(link)
“No, not really, not in my line of work.” The little bud of guilt that had blossomed in his stomach now unfurled in full bloom; so often had his line of work led him back here, pinching idle coin purses off of unattended tables, lifting valuables from unsecured chests. He tried not to think about it, and purchased another bottle of mead, though he hadn’t even finished his first.

“Just as well; an adventurer like you doesn’t get home very often, I suppose. Oh, and you have yet another piece of mail.”

This did come as a shock. Fastred’s invitation was one thing, given that she was in the area. But the idea that someone was leaving mail for Audric in Ivarstead was alarming on several counts, none the least of which was that it meant he was obviously spending entirely too much time here. The parchment was thin and cheap, the message written in charcoal, but the penmanship could only be described as exquisite.


Audric Bellamy,

I will keep this letter short. I am a man in grave need of your services, however I request that we meet in private. As I am in no position to entertain, I must humbly ask that you meet me in Kynesgrove, preferably at your earliest convenience. Please send word to the Braidwood Inn a day in advance; address your reply simply to ‘Cub.’ They will know to whom it must be delivered. I would appreciate your prompt and discreet cooperation.

Sincerely,
A Hopeful, Interested Party




“Awfully vague, that,” Audric observed, turning the letter over. For one thing, which of his services did this ‘hopeful, interested party’ desire? He was a versatile man, and could perform any number of tasks, menial or otherwise. He drew the line at assassination, but even that rule was subject to exemption, on the rarest occasions. But really, the thing that bothered him was the careful, expressive script; the articulate, elegant way in which this man strung his words together.

Well-educated, and well-spoken, if not entirely diplomatic.





A day went by. And then another. And when Audric misplaced a belonging, only to realize he had put it away, that startled him into movement. He packed his modest satchel and bid Lynly and Wilhelm goodbye. He would have liked to have visited Klimmek, but given the circumstances, he wasn’t sure that was a good idea, just yet.

The road was unbroken, mostly. He ran into a pack of wolves, but those proved little challenge, and he left with a few filled soul gems to show for his trouble. He dithered, stooping to pick flowers and steal an eggs from some unfortunate ground birds. It wasn’t long before a signpost rose out of the horizon, though, and Audric had a choice to make. Right, or straight ahead. He wasn’t ready to make it.

Deciding to take the scenic route, he kept on.

A fox chased his heels, friendly; birds crowed in the trees, unseen, specters of daytime. The sun beat down on his skin and he scolded himself for not bringing a hood; he hoped his hair would keep his neck from burning. When the day reached its peak, he sat down to some cheese and bread he’d pilfered from the inn. Hanging his legs over the edge of a high ridge, he tried to enjoy his meal, take in the scenery. The plains of Eastmarch lay before him, boiling and bubbling, steam rising from the earth in fine clouds. There was no dragon circling about, and Audric sort of missed the sound of air surrendering beneath wings; he wondered if it was against some ancient draconic protocol to take up residence in another’s lair.

"Divide and Conquer" Ulfric Stormcloak/M!DB, 1c/?? (+tags)

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 12:05 am (UTC)(link)
A gaggle of Imperial soldiers made their way past, one miserable prisoner in tow. The men were obnoxious, inflated with their own sense of victorious self-importance, and it rubbed Audric the wrong way. He couldn’t afford to set the prisoner loose, but there was something he waited for an opening, which did not take long at all. Feigning a spill, he stumbled into the prisoner, brushing past him and whispered “Talos guide you,” as he picked the man’s pocket, leaving him a small lump of coin. The man’s eyes were startled and watery as Audric drew away, pardoning himself to the rear guard for his clumsiness.

He was not a religious man, and Talos certainly wasn’t his god, but comfort was few and far between for the losing side. At least this way, should the man find escape, he might have food to eat and a place to stay. And if he didn’t, well, hopefully the gold wouldn’t end up lining some Imperial coffer.

Audric had never chosen a side, officially. He detested the Empire for succumbing to terms that were plainly designed to keep it on a short leash, squabbling with itself, and he had no fondness for the Dominion. On the other hand, he’d met a number of Stormcloaks and supporters whose unrepentant bigotry left his stomach churning, and his temper hot. He claimed very little ancestral pride, deeming such sentiment as irrational, but speaking with a decent number of Nords, he had to grudgingly admit he felt a renewed, somewhat horrifying sense of blood-pride. A natural reflex to discrimination, he tried to console himself.

When again, he was faced with a fork in the road, he stopped and worried. The letter had asked that he send a reply a day in advance. He could go home and sleep in his own bed and eat his own food. Iona was probably starting to fret. But that old friend, curiosity, was nagging at him, tugging him away down the road into the pit of the valley, past the herds of mammoths and through the steamy fog and up, around the corner...

He slept in his own bed about as much as he slept in rented ones, he rationalized, and continued north, into the evening.



Author's Notes and Tags

I get the feeling this is going to be a long fill, given the nature of the prompt and my preference for pacing my narratives. If it's okay, I'd like to continue to add tags as they become relevant. Also, question for the OP: are there any kinks you prefer/dislike, for future reference? Or would you prefer a platonic context?

Tags:
char: M!DB char: Ulfric Stormcloak

(frozen comment) Re: Forsworm Women: Also a Premptive Apology to Women

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 03:55 am (UTC)(link)
Way to be rude. I believe OP made those jokey comments about being a pig to get the idea across to people like you, that yes, it might be offensive to you, but everyone is offended by something. OP has an idea, and if someone likes it, they will fill it, or at least make comments along the lines of 'seconded', '+1', so on and so forth.

In a nutshell; if you have a problem with this 'slut shaming prompt'(I missed the part where the shaming comes in, but that's okay!), then build a bridge, get over it, and move on to the next prompt. OP's not being an ass hat, I (in my non-modly wisdom) don't see how the context of the prompt and any extra information included in said prompt violate kinkmeme guidelines; versus your comments, which blatantly go against said rules. Also, you might have quoted the guidelines, but you failed to tie it into the prompt. So, I fail to see your point on OP's violation.


TL:DR: Don't like it, move on. Don't piss the rest of us off by being rude. This meme is a great place, don't fuck it up for the rest of us.


On that note: +1 this prompt because reasons.

Re: The Dragonborn...Comes?

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 10:31 am (UTC)(link)
T'other A!A here!

I absolutely loved this! The first time I had to move something I felt like going "I can use the Force!"...and then spent a minute randomly throwing a dead body about the room.

Poor Lydia...she sure has to put up with a lot :D

(frozen comment) Re: Forsworm Women: Also a Premptive Apology to Women

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 10:59 am (UTC)(link)
na

+1 for the prompt and +1 to this comment! Especially the TL;DR. The prompt isn't anything awful, imo.

Lesbian Vampires

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 12:30 pm (UTC)(link)
Basically in my travels I can across a den (coven?) of Vampires.
There was a female thrall and three female Vampires.
On one of the tables was a female Breton, dead naked and legs spread (Bethesda!).

So my mind went to Lesbian Vampires.
Lesbian Vampires that lure men with their beauty and kill them.
Lesbian Vampires who lure females, fuck them, then kill them.
Lesbian Vampires who fuck their thrall.
Lesbian Vampires who have orgies.
etc etc.

So yeah.....
Anything goes for kinks really; save for waterspouts, toilet stuff etc.

The Die is Cast 1/?

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 01:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Hey OP! Hope you don't mind a multi fill...pun intended ;) I saw your prompt and could resist- though it ended up being the darkest thing I have ever written o.O. Hope you like it...

Prompt:filled es:skyrim char:Mercer char:bandits char:F!PC char:Dragonborn race:Breton race:Nord race:Orc race:Dunmer relationship:het kink:noncon kink:machine kink:double_penetration kink:triple_penetration kink:group_sex kink:dark kink:rough_sex kink:biting kink:anal kink:bondage kink:sub


Dusk was drawing near when I finally reached the ruins of Irkngthand. As I took sight of the majestic ruins built into the mountainside I felt the dark coil of excitement uncurl in the pit of my stomach. Soon Mercer Frey would be bleeding on the end of my sword. But it wouldn't be a quick death. Not after all he's done.

A flicker of movement caught my eye as I made my way through the gate and into the courtyard, pressed against the wall in order to keep to the shadows. Bandits. So Mercer's made some new friends. They were spaced out in pairs and I was tempted to see if I could take them out but Karliah and Brynjolf wouldn't be here until tomorrow. I was here early, against Brynjolf's orders, to make sure Mercer was here before Karliah went on her vengeance spree. So I suppressed my murderous urges and began the tedious task of sneaking through the camp. The three pairs of bandits out on patrol were too busy drinking and chatting about the latest tavern wench they'd fucked to pay any attention to the swiftly moving shadow that flitted through the darkness. They hadn't even posted a guard at the door to the complex and I had to fight down the feeling that this was too easy as I reached for my picks and set to work on the door.

The door opened with a torturous clang to reveal another bandit and a mage in hooded robes stood round a fire, staring straight at me with widening smirks and I felt a sharp sting on my neck. My hand flew to my neck to clasp a tiny dart. Shit! Trap! Instinct sent me rolling forward, snatching at my sword, left hand scrambling to conjure healing magicka to buy me time. But it was too late. As my vision began to blur and I collapsed to my knees, spell dying, I realised the bastards hadn't moved and were stood laughing at me. All I could do was kneel there, trying to put off the inevitable. Soft footsteps approaching made my eyes weakly flicker open and a rough hand at my chin forced my face up to stare at the bastard who was behind this. Mercer Frey.
"I've been waiting for you, my little Nightingale."
Then the rising waves of darkness overtook me.

Re: The Die is Cast 2/?

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 01:43 pm (UTC)(link)
I woke up to the splash of cold water against my naked skin. My body instinctively thrashed trying to escape and the scream that rose in my throat was stifled by the thick leather strips that were gagging me. I was stretched out in an empty centurion charging bay. Manacles held my wrists high above my head and my legs were pulled apart and chained to the floor so that I was utterly trapped and helpless.

I hung there, drenched and shivering, trying to fight the rising panic and cast my gaze round the room, desperate to find a way out of my predicament. In the corner were two unfolded Centurion spheres, both facing away from me. Various scraps of metal were scattered around the small chamber. But, more pressingly, Mercer was there. He was stood by the spheres, inspecting them and deep in conversation with a hooded man in mage robes. Closer around me were the bandits I had snuck past earlier, each of them staring hungrily at my naked body. I couldn't help but whimper as my mind went into overload about what would happen next. At my whimper Mercer looked round, a cold predatory smile preying on his lips. Seeing that smile, my resolve hardened: I was the Dragonborn. I would not show fear. I will not break.

One of the bandits, the blonde dirt-covered Nord, stepped up to me and, in an almost gentle gesture, stroked my cheek before skimming down over my goose-pimpled flesh to one of my hardened nipples, "She's cold. Maybe we could warm her up a bit?"
Hi thumb was softly rubbing the tender bud. Mercer's gaze flickered over my body and he nodded, "Go ahead, boys. Just remember the plan."
One of the Orcs, the one wearing just a fur loincloth, picked up a vase from the low stone shelf. As he approached I caught the distinctive tang of dwemer machine oil. The orc poured the clear viscous liquid it contained over my body, clearly admiring the way the rivulets trickled down my skin, before starting to rub it into my skin. Other hands soon joined, as the remaining bandits gathered round, teasing my breasts, my stomach, the cleft of my legs and my arse, though they didn't touch my most private place. Yet.
If I'd have shut my eyes, turned my mind off, been in any other place, any other time my body might have enjoyed it. Might have begun to respond to the strangely tender caresses. But I didn't want to shut myself off or give in. Instead I locked eyes with the bastard Frey over the shoulder of the Orc and glared defiantly at him. The hooded mage had moved over to one of the spheres and was poking around, muttering to himself, so Mercer was lounging against the wall watching my molestation with his habitually cold expression, though a darkening to his eyes suggested the sick bastard was enjoying himself. Behind me a finger worked its way down the cleft of my ass and hands pulled my cheeks apart, forcing me to break off eye contact as I thrashed in my chains trying to escape. The bandits merely laughed at my attempts and one of the bastards circled my puckered star with an oil covered finger before slapping me hard on the ass . Mercer, meanwhile had slipped off the wall and was now standing in front of me, his cronies pausing in their ministrations to watch.
"What's the matter, little Nightingale? Haven't you ever had a man up there before?"
I will not break. I glared at him, imagining all the myriad ways I would claim my vengeance. I will burn you and heal you and burn you…

Damn character limits...

Re: The Die is Cast 3/?

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 01:45 pm (UTC)(link)
"Hmmm, is that a no? Don't worry, lass, that'll soon change." The son of a bitch was playing to his audience, the bandits chuckling darkly. He nodded to whoever was behind me and the finger returned. It circled once lightly and then the bandit pushed it in. A small grunt escaped my lips, muffled mostly by the gag, but I caught the flash of pleasure in Mercer's eyes. Even that one finger felt huge and by the Nine, it burned and stung. The man behind me didn't give me time to adjust before working it in and out, stroking. A second finger joined the first, adding to the burning sensation and I groaned as they scissored inside me, stretching me. I closed my eyes, I just wanted to escape this now. A tiny dark part of me was telling me that I should be grateful for this in some way, that it could have been much worse but I just felt helpless and violated and a hot tear trickled down my cheek.

"Hmmm, is that a no? Don't worry, lass, that'll soon change." The son of a bitch was playing to his audience, the bandits chuckling darkly. He nodded to whoever was behind me and the finger returned. It circled once lightly and then the bandit pushed it in. A small grunt escaped my lips, muffled mostly by the gag, but I caught the flash of pleasure in Mercer's eyes. Even that one finger felt huge and by the Nine, it burned and stung. The man behind me didn't give me time to adjust before working it in and out, stroking. A second finger joined the first, adding to the burning sensation and I groaned as they scissored inside me, stretching me. I closed my eyes, I just wanted to escape this now. A tiny dark part of me was telling me that I should be grateful for this in some way, that it could have been much worse but I just felt helpless and violated and a hot tear trickled down my cheek.

"Are you not enjoying this, my little thief?" Mercer's tone was mocking and I felt his breath on my face and his tongue licked my tear, leaving a trail of saliva, taking even that from me. Then his finger worked its way up inside me.
"Hmm, nice and tight. And still dry. Poor you but lucky us."
I wanted to break down and cry. I wanted to spit in his face, to Shout him into Oblivion, to scratch his eyes out, to do anything other than dangle there.
"Maybe you need more of an incentive, hmm? Like any good thief should? I suppose I should reward you a little, for all your services."
Then all the hands were gone, leaving just cold, refreshing air on my skin. I opened my eyes. The bandits were moving to sit on the stone tables near by, I counted six of them, not including the bastard and the mage. They looked as if they were at the tavern, waiting for a performance.
I will not break.
A loud clang from the corner caught my attention and the sphere began to roll it's way towards me. Attached to the front of it was a large phallic shaped metallic rod. In any other circumstances the thing would have been amusing. In these it was bloody terrifying.

Re: The Die is Cast 4/?

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 01:48 pm (UTC)(link)
I began pulling futilely on my manacles as the thing approached me. I could see Mercer's pleased smirk over the things shoulder, "Now, now, this is supposed to be a reward. My friend here is an expert on dwemer culture and their machines and he says that his test subjects have all found this very enjoyable…"
The mage was stood to one side, control rod in hand, the expression on what I could see of his face more of curiosity than arousal. A stark contrast to the crude group of bandits, some of whom had taken out their members and were idly stroking them. The machine rolled around me until it was behind me and I felt the cool kiss of metal rub against my slit. I closed my eyes, I didn't want to see this. A agonising pinch to both my nipples had my eyes slam open and a scream of pain escaped me. Frey was in front of me and had clipped two pieces of metal to my nipples.
"Keep your eyes open or it will be worse," He whispered to me darkly. I didn't doubt him, though my mind refused to comprehend how it could get any worse. At Mercer's nod the mage made some adjustments to the control rod and the smooth metal rod started to slip inside me. I was still dry and tight, fear and pain had so far kept me from being aroused and it was painful but the thing was relentless, continually pushing in until I was filled. The mage made a few more tweaks and then the shaft began to move, sliding in and out, utterly without mercy.

It started slowly and torturously, and after a minute or so the Centurion sphere began to speed up, its passage made easier as my walls became wetter. Whatever mechanism drove the cursed thing meant that there was a low vibration to the shaft that resonated deep within my body. The angle of the rod that speared me was touching that sensitive bundle of nerves and I was starting to get more and more turned on the faster and faster the machine fucked me. Pants and whimpers escaped through the gag and my hips began to push back, my body desperate to cum, to the derision of my audience. I could feel my juices trickling down my inner thighs proof of my body's betrayal.
"Look at the slut!" I heard one of them cry and I imagined what the scene looked like to them; a young woman, tied up and helpless, starting to enjoy being raped by something that wasn't even alive. A flush of shame coursed through my body and my stomach began to flutter in a familiar feeling. No!
But my body wasn't listening to my head and I came, walls clamping down in waves against the smooth, slick metal that was still relentlessly thrusting into me.

They took me to countless orgasms. By the end they had blurred together, so that I had been continually cumming. The mage had pulled the clips off my nipples during my last orgasm and the pain had been so intense that I had blacked out. When I came back round I was still in the throes of orgasm, the dwemer automaton still relentlessly fucking me. I was a pleading, broken wreck, desperate for it to stop. I'd never thought that pleasure could be so intolerable or that I would be weak enough for my will to break like this.
Mercer had moved up to stand beside me, and he spoke quietly, in an almost gentle voice, "Had enough, girl?"
I nodded, tears trickling down my face. His thumb swept the tears away, "Will you behave?"
I nodded again, anything was better than this torture.
"Good girl." He nodded at the mage and the machine began to slow down and finally pulled out with a wet squelch. My juices dripped from between my legs, pooling on the floor beneath me. I felt empty and sore and open. Mercer studied my body, reaching between my legs. Three fingers slipped easily into me and Mercer pulled them out, making sure to lick them. He turned to the bandits, who were all hard, waiting for their turn with me, "Untie her and take her over to the bench."
Four of them moved to comply, groping me roughly again, before each of them took hold of a limb, unchaining me. I thought about struggling but my limbs refused to co-operate. They bent me over one of the cold stone benches, on my knees, arms stretched out to the other end, refastening my chains. The coolness was a welcome relief to my fevered, sweaty and oil slicked skin and I steeled myself for what would come next.

Re: The Die is Cast 5/?

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 01:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Hands stroked over my back, sliding up my spine to my now tangled mass of hair. The hands pulled it away from my face, to one side. I turned my head revealing Mercer in my peripheral gaze. He stared down at me, almost impassively and then returned to lightly massaging my back, giving me time to recover from the intensity of the Centurion sphere. When I had calmed and recovered my breath I felt the tip of his cock brush the entrance to my cunt rubbing round my still sensitive clit. I moaned behind the gag, partly from arousal and partly from fear. Then he slid in, warm and throbbing, so much better than the cold, slickness of the machine. His pace was almost agonisingly slow, flickering embers to the consuming blaze I had just experienced but it felt so much more right. My hips were starting to roll back to meet his thrusts and my inner walls were clenching around his cock on each thrust. Behind me, Mercer leaned forward to bit the slope of my neck, covering my body with his. I could feel the smoothness of his leather armour against my bare back. His lips slid up to my ear, nibbling on my earlobe, making me groan as he whispered, "You know, little Nightingale, I've wanted to do this to you ever since Brynjolf brought you into the Cistern. So full of potential, so fucking pure."

With that he pulled out of me, leaving me empty. I could feel the tip of his penis, slick from my juices, trail up to my other hole. I steeled myself. I will not break. The tip of his cock circled my anus lubricating it with my own juices. Then his head pushed in. The burning, stinging stretching was almost a welcome relief from the pleasure overload I had suffered earlier. Pain I could deal with.

Mercer didn't give me time to adjust, working his cock deeper in me. I gritted my teeth against the gag, grunting with pain as my ass spasmed around him. Liquid splashed against my cheek and I glanced up to see one of the Bandits, the Dunmer, cumming, semen soaking my face and hair. Another bandit must have followed as I felt another splash against my back as they jerked off to the sight of me impaled on Mercer's cock. Mercer merely laughed, "Just wait till you try her boys, she even better than she looks."
Then Mercer began to thrust, without mercy, setting a punishing pace. He wanted to possess me, to make me submit. And I would be damned before I gave in.

Then he slid his hand down to my clit, rubbing over it in time with his thrusts. It was a strangely erotic feeling, I felt full, stretched beyond belief and yet my cunt was empty. My body wanted something in there and my hips rolled back involuntarily against his nimble fingers. Mercer moaned as I started fucking back, sliding first one finger in there, then another. I moaned, as I came again, now familiar ripples riding through me, causing me to clench down on Mercer's cock, still deep in my ass. Mercer chuckled darkly, as he continued thrusting through my orgasm.
"I want you to remember that I was the first one here, Dragonborn. That I claimed you this night and nothing, no one, will ever be able to erase it or make you forget just how much you enjoyed it." His thrusts were more erratic and all I could do was lie there, cheek pressed against the coolness of the stone as I quivered and shook, "I will be your dark, depraved little secret." With that he thrust hard into me one last time, fingers bruising my hips. I could feel his warm cum shooting into me, a strange and alien sensation. He stayed in me, until he softened and his member slipped from my ass, a splash of seed following. I felt open and sore and, though I didn't want to admit it, utterly satisfied in a dark twisted way. My eyelids flickered shut with exhaustion and I could hear the rustle of cloth as Mercer refastened his trousers. Beyond that I could hear the laughter and murmur from the bandits as they approached me. "She's all yours, gentlemen. Just remember to leave her tied up at the end, just like we discussed. I want Karliah and Brynjolf to find their precious little protégée. As for you, my little Nightingale, I'll see you soon. For now, I've got some gems to steal and fellow birds to kill."

Re: The Die is Cast 6/?

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 02:45 pm (UTC)(link)
The bandits crowded around me and I felt a frisson of fear run through me. Hands grabbed my jaw, and the gag was removed from my dry mouth. Before I had chance to Shout something metallic and round was slipped in between my teeth, holding my mouth open. With a shock I realised it was a dwemer cog fastened round my head with leather straps...leaving my mouth open to be fucked.
"'Bout time"
"No need to rush."
"Yeah, we've got all the time in Tamriel."
"Let's fuck this little slut to Oblivion and back!"
They untied my arms and refastened them behind my back, locking the manacles together. They dragged me back to the charging gantry, roughly pulling me by my hair, forcing me to stumble after them. One leg was retied to thee iron loops on the floor, trapping me. I was now kneeling in the middle of a circle, no chance to escape. The first bandit, a stinking Orc stepped up close, tracing my stretched lips with the tip of his cock. Revulsion twisted my face and the bastard slapped me, "Think you're too good for us, bitch? Can you only cum when it's a fucking piece of cold metal?" He slapped me again and I saw stars. His cock twitched and throbbed with each hit. Then he grabbed me by the hair, dragging me forwards, slamming his cock into my throat. I gagged at the assault, coughing and spluttering, barely able to breath as he fucked my throat, balls bouncing against my chin.

The Orsimmer had pulled me forwards, exposing my pussy and ass to the bandits behind me and they didn't waste the opportunity. A thick cock slid between my inner labia and thrust deeply into my sore cunt, making me groan around the cock in my mouth. The Orc enjoyed that, thrusts now coming faster and faster. I was utterly filled with cock at both ends whilst the other bandits looked on, idly stroking themselves in preparation for their turn. Whoever was fucking me from behind pulled open my asscheeks exposing me more to the bandits and giving them a clear view of his cock stretching my pussy and of my asshole, still oozing Mercer's cum. Soon the other bandits were stroking my body, pinching my nipples, even pushing a finger into my anus. The sensation of it all soon tensed my body and I moaned like a whore as I came. My orgasm set off the two bandits fucking me and I was blasted with cum at both ends as they came in shuddering unison. The cock in my cunt pulled out first leaving me feeling empty again. The Orc stayed in my mouth a moment longer, sperm flooding my mouth. The blasted gag meant that I couldn't swallow fast enough and cum dripped down my chin as the Orc stepped away, tucking his softening cock back into his pants. He was immediately replaced by the Breton, whose cock was slick with juices and softening so I guessed that it had been he who had been fucking me. The Breton just held his cock in my mouth, instead of face fucking me, clearly expecting me to suck it. Best to get it over with. My tongue swept round the head of his penis and for the first time I tasted myself, a tangy musk that wasn't all together unpleasant. His member began to harden under my administrations and he thrust deeper into me. I began sliding my tongue against his dick, sucking him, humming slightly in my throat as I gave in to the pleasure.

Re: The Die is Cast 7/?

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 03:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Another bandit slid under me and pulled my hips down onto a large cock. His hands slid to my hips, prompting me to start riding him. I started out slow, reluctant to show any enthusiasm but he slid one hand to my clit, gently rubbing it and my hips sped up. It dawned on me that I was now actively fucking the two bandits inside me, instead of merely being their helpless prisoner and I felt a flash of shame. A third bandit knelt behind me, oiled hands rubbing over my tits, squeezing and massaging them. Then his member prodded my backdoor and I began to struggle, terror taking over me. The Breton pulled out of my mouth, holding my head and the three of them had no trouble pinning me in place. The head of the cock behind me pushed in. It was too much, too big and I just shuddered between their bodies, whimpering in agony. Unable to relax. The man behind didn't stop until he was fully sheathed in my ass, walls twitching and spasming around both cocks. Both men in my cunt and ass froze, giving me time to adjust. The blonde Nord beneath me gently caressing my clit until the pleasure took the edge off the pain.

Then they began to move, one cock would slide in and another would slide out. I could feel their cocks sliding each other through the thin wall that separated each other and I was so full. No inch was left untouched, the Nord in my pussy stroking the sensitive bundle of nerves inside me. The Breton stepped back up pushing his cock back into my mouth and I instinctively began sucking on it, too in sync with my body to listen to the lingering protests in my head that I was being raped. The feeling was so intense, I was utterly stuffed. The bandits were groaning now, my tightness and the ripples of my inner walls setting them off. The man in my cunt came first, warm seed splashing up against my cervix. This set me off in a mini-orgasm, body clenching round both cocks, trying to draw them deeper. The bandit in my ass was unable to move, my walls squeezing him so tightly that he came too, shooting his hot cum deep in my bowels. The Breton pulled out of my mouth as he came, spraying his seed over my face and hair. It was too much for me and my body began to shiver in an orgasm so intense I began to black out.

Re: The Die is Cast 8/?

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 03:46 pm (UTC)(link)
When I recovered, I face down, chained over the stone table again, legs obscenely spread. My body was aching and coated in dry, flaky cum. I bet I looked a state. Clearly Mercer had warned them about my abilities. Glancing round I noticed that the mage was busy tinkering with the spheres and the blonde Nord and Breton were nowhere to be seen. The two Orcs, the Dunmer and the scarred grey haired Nord were stood nearby. Waiting for me. The Orc who hadn't fucked me yet walked over to me,
"About time you're awake. You're not finished yet, little slut."
More dwarven oil was poured over my stinging ass. A fat finger poked at my hole and slid in, wriggling back and forth against my sore and stretched sphincter. I groaned through my gag at the thought of another round of abuse. A second finger joined the first, stretching me more than either Mercer or the other bandit had. The Orc worked the oil around my asshole, ensuring it was well lubricated. Then I felt the blunt head of his cock pushing against my hole. It felt huge, stretching me beyond belief. The whole thing forced it's way up my resisting hole inch by painful inch until it was pressed right against me, hairy balls brushing my cunt. Despite the earlier stretching my ass was in spasm and sending constant waves of pain crashing through me. Tears streamed down my face and I whimpered behind my gag. The Orc pulled right back before thrusting forward, in a long deep painful stroke. The burn inside my bowels was almost unbearable as he continued his unhurried pace.
"She's still so fucking tight. Urgh, by Molag Bal, this is good."
I could do nothing but moan and cry as I was slammed forward with each thrust. I had had enough. My body and mind were exhausted. Broken. My body, my ass felt like it was on fire as he mercilessly ground into me. His hands squeezed my butt roughly, leaving bruises, as he kept slamming into me. His thrusts grew faster and more uneven, plowing in and out of me. Then I felt him stop thrusting, shoving his cock as deep into me as possible as it throbbed wildly. He kept it in there as he came, letting the tightness of my ass draw his cum deeper into my body.

Then he pulled out, my abused hole releasing his cock with a soft plop. He pulled my cheeks apart, displaying me to the others. My hole was gaping and I felt a trickle of cum escape.
"Nice!" The Dunmer called, in a incongruously cheerful voice, "I'm next."
I groaned against my gag as I felt another cock slide up into me. The Dunmer's cock was thinner than the Orc who had just abused me but felt longer as he rammed into my aching ass. The friction was much less painful, thanks to his friend's cum, still lubricating my bowels. I was still crying, tears streaming down my cum encrusted face. The old Nord moved round to stand in front of me, rubbing his cock in my face. He stank of sweat and dirt, making me gag, then he thrust his smelly cock through the cog into my mouth. Reluctantly I sucked him, tongue tracing his throbbing member as I was impaled again from both ends. I felt light-headed and utterly humiliated. I just wanted it to end.

After a while I felt the cock up my ass throbbing and more cum spurted inside me. The Dunmer pulled out, another splash of cum following.
"Who's next?"
The Nord grinned at the Orc, "Why don't we share? She's been so obliging so far."

Re: The Die is Cast 9/?

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 04:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Warning. This is by far the kinkiest chapter. For those who are squicked by double anal please skip this chapter

The bastards were laughing. The big Orc unchained my legs one by one, pulling me up to kneel on the table and refastening the chains. The Nord was now sat behind, hard cock out. He lifted me up, lining his cock up with my asshole and pulling me down on it. I whimpered as he began to bounce me up and down on his cock. Then the bastard Orc was in front of me, holding his thick cock. The Nord stopped the fucking motion, keeping me still. The other Orc and the Dunmer were watching me avidly and even the mage had come forward to watch. Then I felt the second cock at my asshole and I cried out in fear. There was no way they would fit. I was going to be ripped apart.

The Orc's hard cock was relentlessly forcing it's way inside me, pressing against the cock that already filled my hole to stretching. I was crying in agony as I was stretched even further, tears coursing down my face. My clenching, resisting hole squeezed the two cocks up against each other. All I could feel was pain. The bandits around me were calling out obscenely though I was in far too much pain to hear what they were saying. Then the bastards started to move. The sheer tightness of my ass meant that they couldn't quite synchronise the timing of their thrusts, sometime they thrust simultaneously at others they ground against each other.

This torture went on for what felt like eternity. I rested back against the Nord, body unable to move as I lay there crying. The Nord trailed his fingers down my front to my cunt, scooping out my juices and his friends cum before smearing them around my mouth, staring at my tear streaked face. His body tensed and jerked, spurting his cum inside me. His cock began to soften and he pulled out, keeping me in his arms as the Orc fucked me hard now that he was free to move. It didn't take him long to cum, sperm mixing with the other three's, deep inside my bowel.

He pulled out and I could feel my asshole gaping open, cum pouring out of me in a thick stream to pool on the table below. The Nord holding me scooped it up with his fingers, rubbing the mixture against my breasts, then dangling it above my mouth; still held open by the gag. I shook my head weakly, trying to pull away but the Nord held my head and let the mixture drop in. The Orc soon joined him in scooping up the cum and feeding it to me. It tasted disgusting, making me heave and gag, to the amusement of the others. But at least my ordeal seemed to be over for now.

Re: The Die is Cast 10/13

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 04:59 pm (UTC)(link)
The Orc and the Nord shifted off me, leaving me to collapse in a heap on the table. As I lay there a tiny glint of dark metal caught my eye, a piece of wire...that could be used as a lock pick. It was a slim chance but I had a feeling it was the only one I would be getting. Slowly I rolled over and began inching for it, hoping the bandits, now in conversation with the mage didn't notice. Just as my fingers closed round it the bandits turned back to me and I shoved it in-between my wrist and my manacle, hoping they wouldn't notice.

They didn't, unchaining me and yanking me back across to the charging gantry where they strung me back up in the same position I had woke up in. The Dunmer unfastened my gag tossing it to one side though the one-eyed Orc immediately slipped the strips of leather first used to gag me back in my mouth. It was a small relief to shut my aching jaw. Then the bandits left, leaving me alone with the mage. Who was at his desk, back to me, scribbling in a small leather book.
The Nord called out to him as they left, "She's all yours, freak."

The mage was silent. Had been silent through this whole ordeal, content to watch. Once the bandits had closed the door behind them, he shut his book and turned to face me, control rod for the centurion sphere in his hand. No.

The machine rolled towards me with a clang and I whimpered with anticipation and fear. It stopped in front of me and I felt the huge metal shaft against my cum soaked labia. The coldness slid up into me, an alien feeling after the bandits, and slowly starting pistoning inside me, gently vibrating. Tired as my body was, as much as my mind was convinced it could take no more, I still began to feel that intense pleasure rising. The pleasure, after the agony of the double anal rape, was at first welcome to my body, though I knew that would soon change. My body hummed along with the machine and I closed my eyes as my cunt twitched and spasmed.

Another loud clang forced my eyes open and I froze as the second centurion began moving. My fearful eyes met the mage's cold clinical ones and I was pleading behind the gag for him to stop. The machine rolled behind me, it's shaft pressing against my sore asshole. I clenched trying desperately to prevent it from entering, though I knew from the bandits that it was a futile exercise. It slid up inside me easily and I moaned at the sensation of being stuffed again. Both metal cocks started fucking me, accelerating to a almost frantic pace. The vibrations were overwhelming and I felt stuffed. My stomach tensed as waves and waves of pleasure crashed over me, limbs locking, as I came in the most explosive orgasm I had ever had. The machines didn't stop, continuing to fuck me to orgasm after orgasm until I blessedly passed out.

Re: The Die is Cast 11/13

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 05:00 pm (UTC)(link)
I regained consciousness slowly this time. My body felt like a bruised wreck but at least it was left alone at the moment. My eyes flickered weakly open and through my eyelashes I scanned the room. The bandits had all gone, leaving just the mage who was sat at the desk and alchemy lab making notes whilst a potion brewed. This was my chance. My fingers fumbled for the lockpick I'd managed to wedge between my wrist and the manacle and I set to work on the clasp. Picking that lock was hell. I was terrified that that fragile little pin would snap or drop or that the mage would look up from his notes but after what felt like eternity, my hand was free. The next hand was easier and then it was just my feet and the cursed gag.

Now it was my turn to hunt.

Silently I moved up to stand behind the mage. There was nothing I could do to him in the time I had that would be as bad as what those bastards had done to me. I had to make this quiet and quick. A heavy bar of dwemer metal was lying on the floor, I picked it up and slammed it into the man's head. He went flying to the floor, skull caved in but he was still moving, limbs twitching. So I kept slamming the bar into his head. Over and over. A small sob burst out of me but I forced myself to focus. There were more out there.

The rational part of me that remained told me I should dress myself in his robes but I couldn't face the thought of touching him. Reading his journal made me feel sick. There had been other girls before he came to Skyrim. The stone shelf by the lab contained an array of dwemer tools and other implements of torture. I picked up one of the small knives. It would do.

Part of me knew that I was acting wrong. That I was seriously fucked up. But I ignored it. I crept back through the ruins to the first chamber; the one where Mercer had ambushed me. Two of them. They were stood by the fire, giving a fuck by fuck account of my ordeal and just how much they, and I, had enjoyed it. I crept up behind the blonde haired Nord. Out of the two of them he had been the kindest. And then I slit his throat. As he fell his companion, the one-eyed Orc, turned to me, eyes widening with fear and surprise. I smiled coldly at him, "YOR TOOL SHUL."

Watching the flaming Orsimer stumble around the chamber, shrieking, almost brought a smile to my face. When he at last lay still and the sickly sweet stench of burning flesh reached my nostrils I headed over to my abandoned pack and armour sticking out of the chest by the fire. I didn't dress yet. I was dirty. So I merely picked up Dragonsbane. As I did the door opened and another two bandits came in. A bolt of lightning caught the Dunmer, blasting him against the door. The other Orc charged me, I waited balanced on the balls of my feet before stepping aside and sending Dragonsbane in a sweeping arc that near cleaved him in two. Stalking over to the Dunmer who was lying on the floor, twitching erratically, I knelt on one knee beside him.
"Please," he gasped. A small scoff from me was his only answer as I gently nicked his carotid artery with the tip of Dragonsbane. Five down, five to go.

Re: The Die is Cast 12/13

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 05:01 pm (UTC)(link)
The cold outside was refreshing on my bare skin. It was almost sunset. That meant I had been in there a whole day. I had completely lost track of time inside. Karliah and Brynjolf would be here soon. Then I spotted two bandits crossing the narrow wooden bridge. The final two were down by the entrance. I waited until the first pair were in the middle of the bridge, timing my Shout.
"FUS RO DAH." My Thu'um caught them both sending them off the bridge to crash down in the courtyard below right in front of their startled comrades. Looking up they saw me, standing on the edge. Then I turned and walked back inside. It was cold. And I knew they would follow.

As soon as they entered the doors I charged them, no magic, no Shouts, just me and my pure unadulterated fury. Their blades sliced my skin but I didn't care. All I could focus on was my rising bloodlust and the savage exhilaration that swept through me when they lay crumpled at my feet.

Once they were all dead the darkness receded to lie coiled, waiting for the final act.
Right, time to clean up.
I used snow to wash myself as best I could. A healing potion took care of the physical reminders; the bites, the bruises, the scratches. A stamina potion to remove the exhaustion that was threatening to claim me. Then I dressed myself in my Nightingale armour and pushed Dragonsbane through my belt. Going through the motions I felt utterly disconnected. If I felt anything then it was shame. At myself. Deep down inside I knew that Mercer was right; that the dark part inside me had loved it, that the memory would stay with me every night and that I would never feel such intense pleasure again in my life. My dark, depraved little secret indeed.

I didn't want Karliah or Bryn to know about what had happened. I still didn't want to admit it to myself. So what I needed to do was hide the evidence. First rule of thieving. I methodically swept the mage's toys, journal and the control rod into a spare pack. I didn't, couldn't, guess at some of their purposes but to my eyes they all looked menacing. Maybe I can use some on Mercer. Experiment a little. The centurion spheres proved to be remarkably indestructible but eventually I managed to get them retracted into two small spheres. Worth some further research. I could always take them to my lab at Proudspire for further analysis. Mind made up, I lugged the two spheres and backpack of toys back outside and down to Shadowmere. Shadowmere whinnied at the extra weight but backed down after I glared at him. I think he realised I was in no mood to argue. Fortunately Karliah and Brynjolf were still nowhere to be seen so I settled into the bushes with Shadowmere and waited. Hopefully my plan would work.

Re: The Die is Cast 13/13

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 05:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Two hours after dusk I caught sight of stealthy figures making their way across the rickety bridges spanning the ruins. I gave them as long a head start as I could bear then I headed back in after them. They were waiting for me on the next level down from where I had been held, clad in the same Nightingale armour, though they had both removed their masks whilst they waited.

Brynjolf leapt forward as I strode down the stairs, arms reaching out for me. But I couldn't bear the thought of anyone touching me, not even my best friend, my mentor, my confidante. I stopped short of Bryn's embrace, three steps higher than them. Brynjolf frowned at me but remained silent and Karliah didn't bother with the pleasantries, getting straight to business.
"Mercer's been here," Karliah murmured in her soft tone, "I hope we're not too late."

"About those bandits back there…" I hesitated, reluctant to tell them what had happened to me. Fortunately Karliah already had her own explanation, "Brynjolf and I found them like that. Mercer's doing." She clearly thought I was accusing her of slaughtering them. If only she knew. I merely shrugged. Brynjolf was still frowning at me, perceptive enough to know something was off with me. I ignored his gaze, moving between them to open the next set of doors, never looking back, "We need to catch up to Mercer. Now."

I had vengeance to exact.

Re: The Die is Cast 13/13

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 05:20 pm (UTC)(link)
OMG my F5 key really needs a break now lol I've really enjoyed this fill, it was dark but not horrifyingly so. I loved your adjustments to the centurion spheres! I really hadn't seen that coming! Good job, this was an awesome read!

Now my mind is just wondering "what now?" how does the DB deal with this once the adrenaline of the hunt has settled? Will Brynjolf find out? Will Mercer say something so that they know? Does the DB decide to confide in them? Or maybe she's pregnant and decides to confess because of that?

Re: Daedric Princes/M!DB: "This Means War" 1/?

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 11:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Late OP is sorry for the lateness and very, very much approves of this. Thank you <3

Re: MNord/FWerewolf Part 2

(Anonymous) 2013-05-12 11:09 pm (UTC)(link)
F5ing like a mofo.

Re: The Die is Cast 13/13

(Anonymous) 2013-05-13 08:05 am (UTC)(link)
Wowie, that was intense! Probably one of the kinkiest things I've read, and I enjoyed it immensely. Very well done A!A..