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

Comments

Re: The Die is Cast 11/13

[(Anonymous)]

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.