Meme Announcements!

[skyrimkinkmeme]

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

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M!DB - "Home" (4/?)

[(Anonymous)]

He spent half of the money his sister had gotten from Mother that very same night before even leaving the city. There was a dunmer tavern wench that had been making eyes at him a few weeks ago; he was determined to get her into his bed tonight.

His desire for dunmer had something dark, twisted about it. Ever since he found out why everyone was treating him so differently even though he came from a supposedly distinguished and pure-blooded family, he had somehow gotten it in his head that this whole dark-skinned race had personally insulted him. They had screwed over the life he was supposed to lead by letting one of them screw his mother; and he was getting back at them for that by going to the tavern at weekends, taking one of them with him to the best room his meager allowance permitted and fucking them hard against the wall. He liked calling them his slut or bitch while thrusting into them as hard as he could, and was childishly delighted whenever he found one who actually got off on that.

He enjoyed breaking them, humiliating them, teasing them until he had them begging for his cock, until they whimpered and mewled and panted for it. It gave him a sick feeling of power, of being in control that he couldn’t find any other way.

He hated their dark skin, their stupid, pointed ears that looked entirely different from altmer ones, their ridiculous names he made a point of mishearing; he hated that altmer considered him one of them while dunmer considered him an altmer, and he hated that he couldn’t figure out where that left him.

But he hated their red eyes more than anything.

Tonight he was torn between his desire for making this sweet little dunmer woman scream his name while he bent her over a table and drinking himself into a stupor. Trying to do both at the same time never worked out for him, and this time was no exception.

By the time they stumbled into the room he had paid for he was so hideously drunk that he couldn’t even get it up for her. He just slobbered over her face in something he hoped could still be interpreted as a kiss and fondled her breasts awkwardly, giggling stupidly the whole time, until he passed out. The next morning he sneaked out of town nursing the worst hangover he ever experienced.

Of course, he didn’t get far. The money he had didn’t last long after that, and when he finally reached the border the only food he’d eaten in the past two days was whatever plants and nuts he had found in the woods. No one had ever taught him how to hunt; since he didn’t have a bow he tried to use his fire magic to for it, but his first bite of incinerated rabbit had him looking for nuts and fruits again.

The borders to Skyrim were closed, they told him, but Mother had made it fairly clear that he was not supposed to let anything stop him. So he cut through the woods and mountains, crossing the border without being detected – just to rush straight into a skirmish between humans in blue-grey clothing and other humans in red-brown clothing. With the hunger clouding his judgment he was not entirely certain which side he should be supporting; they obviously didn’t know either, because soldiers of both armies tried to take him out. He fought for his life, but his movements were sluggish and mostly useless. Eventually someone knocked him over the head and he went out like a light.

When he woke up they had taken his weapons and his elvhen armor and carted him towards a small village called Helgen for his execution. He vaguely wondered if this was what had happened to his brother as well.

It felt like an insult when the soldier who took his name before taking him to the axe had to comment: “Are you one of the Thalmor agents? No, no that cannot be.”

His eyes gave him away every time.

What had come afterwards definitely hadn’t happened to his brother: An ancient dragon sweeping down to massacre everyone in sight, the leaders of two great armies despairing at the sight of the flames and carnage, and at last the escape through the tunnels of the old fortress. It was all very classy.