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Skyrim Page 3 - "Either you're naked, or I'm drunk. Maybe both."

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A victim of the Dark Brotherhood learns what it means when they say their victims will be "serving Sithis in the Void."

ifyouknowwhatImean

Seconded, for Daedra sex is the best kind of sex

But....but Sithis isn't a daedra...

Kind of vague, and I'm sure OP has wandered off by now, but I'm giving this prompt some serious thought. Been playing that Dark Brotherhood questline and I am feeling the Void right now. No promises, and I've not done a fill for a Skyrim prompt before, but I may take this one.

I sense possibilities...

Tags: char:M!NPC, char:Sithis, char:commander_maro, relationship:slash, race:Imperial, es:skyrim
Kink tags: anal, humiliation, domination, d/s, oral, orgasm denial, dub-con, punishment, daedra

Summary: For his crimes Commander Maro learns what is means to serve Sithis in the Void.

AUTHOR NOTES: I said I'd be back OP, and I am. I hope this is along the lines of what you were looking for. My original plan was to be a bit more light-hearted since the prompt was in that spirit, but hell, it's Sithis. Also, I made up a first name for Maro. Hope you like.

----------

"Penance"

He never saw it coming.

Commander Maros was patrolling the docks, in anticipation of the Emperor’s arrival. The death of his son still weighed on steps, but worse was the soiling of his name. He found himself again barking orders at a subordinate, forcibly ignoring the veiled sympathy in the younger soldier’s gaze. He was weary of their incompetence.

There was pain, and then there was nothing.

Next he remembered, he was in a darkness more complete than he had ever known. He glared into the endless sea of black, uncertain as to where he was and not liking the sensation one bit. Maro clambered to his feet, feeling strangely unsteady, but not in pain.

He didn’t know how long he was kept waiting before a figure stepped from the darkness. The commander didn’t know the man, but he recognized the black hand that marked so starkly those old fashioned robes. “Assassin…”

A deep chuckle from the darkness of that hood, “Did you really believe that Sithis would let you off so easily, Maros? Think that you could thumb your nose at Dread Father and not pay the price? Oh no dear Maro…”

Sithis. Maro’s brow furrowed, as he started to truly look into the blackness around him. A seething, hungry blackness and the burn of comprehension made him still. “You ─you bastard! This is not possible… I do not acknowledge your gods!”

“But where are you, dear Maro?”

“No…no. It cannot…”

The assassin seemed amused as he shook his head at him, tsking quietly at his persistent denial. “If you insist on being stubborn, I will answer for you: The Void. Your Divines will not save you here. You are forsaken liar, cheat, backstabber, and just like your son you will serve Sithis in the Void. In fact, I hear the Dread Lord calling.” With that, he faded right into the darkness, like he had never been.

Dead he may be, but the commander felt a very mortal chill run down his spine at the voice that emerged from the blackness to curl around him. Deep, dark, and rolling like a serpent of ebony scales, its echo razor sharp and searing against his mind. He had always thought that a man like him would have the strength to stand even before the darkest of the evils, Maro was horribly mistaken.

“Alexius Maro,” despite himself the commander trembled at his name echoed in those terrible tones, he felt… violated, defiled, even as he stood shaking before a blackness far beyond his understanding. “You thought to defy me. Willful, proud, insolent Maro.”

The Imperial was shaking as from that formless void a long limb just came into being. White as bone, its pale claws brushed against his cheek, elegant and corrupted. The terror that smooth limb cultivated in his mind was as fathomless as the endlessness of space.

“You destroy my children, dear Maro.”

“But my─my son-“

Those claws pressed into his jaw and commander couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, his body paralyzed by the feeling of such an infinite being’s complete displeasure. In an instant he felt awful, horrible, and in his terror he ached for penance. Anything to satiate this being, anything to be free of his blasphemous sins. The proud commander wept under the cool gaze of the Void, wanting to beg, to plead for redemption.

When the grip eased, the breath of freedom was so stark it left him gasping in its benevolence. But the Dread Lord was not finished, and the return of that disapproving tone had Maro cowed. “He was wanted for the Void. But he is the least of your concerns here. You corrupted my Sanctuary. Now you belong to me, and you will serve me.”

AUTHOR NOTES: Continued from part 1.

To his endless shame, Maros looked away from the dark gaze of the Void, and bowed as the weight of ages ached in his bones with every word from this being older than time. “S-serve you… h-how?”

“In all ways. Proud, blasphemous Maro. You will learn humility, learn shame, debasement upon my will. You were dragged to the Void in disgrace, tribute to me for your sins. In your subjugation you will reflect on them.”

Maro felt that creeping dread bloom vividly within him as he stared wide-eyed into the Void. He didn’t know what to say, his mind seemingly locked on just what the Dread Lord could possibly mean.

Then he saw more white flesh flowing, conceived of the darkness. The void began taking shape. This should have given him comfort, but somehow inexplicably his horror only grew. By terrible increments a body was forming and the Imperial quaked as he looked into the bottomless black gaze of a masculine creature. To call the form a man would be like comparing the sun to a camp fire, the body was male but it was grand and it was beautiful in the most terrible way. Chiseled features and perfectly formed lips smiled to reveal a mouth full of the most horrible teeth. A head crowned in the void’s blackness canted at the Commander who found himself weeping in awe and fear at what he saw.

It only seemed to make the Dread Lord laugh. “This is not how usually I communicate with my followers, but I find you humans learn best your lessons… viscerally. Your base flesh that is both your exaltation and your damnation, it makes for a most entertaining instrument of penance.”

He just looked, uncertain of what the old god wanted of him, staring at those claws and teeth, the flesh so white to make him feel unclean. “What-what do you want?”

“Everything. But we will start with your humility. I want you on your knees, dear Maro, and then I want you to try and pleasure me.”

This is an absolutely brilliant fill, can't wait to see more!!

(A/N: Take care not to overlook 1b. Also, enjoy your smut.)

----

Maro was struck dumb at the command, but he had no chance to reply as all of a sudden he found himself cold, naked and on his knees before the Lord. He had never even thought to look anywhere below the waist of the being whose body was stretching the bounds of his narrow range of comprehension. But now it seemed impossible that he could have missed the truly intimidating evidence of masculinity which even limp made his shoulders tremble with weakness.

All his life the commander had lain only with women. He had a son. But somehow, on his knees cowed by shame and fear, Maro could not imagine anything but obedience. As terrible as he was, the Dread Father was also a creature of the most inescapable majesty and Maros felt unworthy to even brush such flesh.

But this hesitation was disobedience, and as he felt the weight of Sithis’ displeasure the Imperial choked on the subsequent pain. No more needed to be said. Without further pause Maro leaned forward, brushing his lips against the soft length. He started at first, when careful claws brushed across the back of his head, a simmering awareness creeping along his nervous limbs.

His heart throbbed a staccato beat within him. Maro moved closer again, wrapping his lips around the heavy tip. The commander felt ashamed, embarrassed as his tongue began to sweep the end, sucking at it with an anxiety that just seemed to grow. The lord was not responding, he had to be doing it wrong, and the fear of Sithis’ displeasure made the Imperial feel frantic.

He pulled back for a moment, moving nervously to wet his lips. Looking up at that harsh face and the pitiless pools of the Dread Father’s eyes only made his heart leap more, made the man more desperate to please. Mouth watering and hands aquiver Maros held onto the strong thighs he tried not to contemplate. He buried his face against that heavy flesh again, trembling at the scent of maleness, of fear that made him swallow his pride and take the god into his throat.

Maro tasted darkness on his tongue, suckled it, hot and desperate. His grip was probably too hard on those thighs, but his heart was beating so hard and he wanted the Dark Father pleased, just anything to soothe the looming of his gaze. Working his tongue along the underside, he rubbed that place that felt so good on him, moved himself, fucking his mouth on the limp length in a plea.

Finally he felt it thicken, and Maros almost sobbed in relief. The feeling was hot, and surprised the commander with the force of it. Weight was building up between his own frightened thighs, but it didn’t deter his movements. If anything the Imperial was moving more urgently. He was embarrassed as saliva welled in his mouth and he started sucking eagerly at that hardening length. The Dread Lord had to be pleased with him, and he wanted that, wanted it so much. That terrible cock was growing large enough to scare him, but not as much as the thought of Sithis’ anger, or the frightening excitement of his pleasure. It was big, but Maro took as much as he could in anyway, even as the heat of shame made his sex heavy.

He was crying, as desperately he sucked the Dread Lord, but even hard while Maro swallowed his heavy cock Sithis did not truly acknowledge him. The commander would take anything, just to not have to so actively submit. If the lord would just fuck his throat, use him, make him surrender. But the way it was he was doing it himself, humiliating himself, aching in the most shameful way as he began to crave that degradation. He deserved this, yearning as the old god was served, as subjecting himself made his unworthy mouth wet. Maros was no elite here, just a simpering whore begging for the acknowledgement of their lord.

Sharp claws ran under his dark hair, shivering across the back of his neck. “Such a base, filthy creature to be so excited at this. Do you feel it now, Maro? Do you want to be forgiven?”

Maro trembled at the voice, pulling slowly off the cock he had his mouth so thoroughly impaled on, lips swollen and aching as he reluctantly parted from the tip he suckled so ashamedly. “Please, Dread Father… I will be better. I am s-sorry…”

(A/N: Take care not to overlook 1b, posted wonky. Also, enjoy your smut.)

----

Maro was struck dumb at the command, but he had no chance to reply as all of a sudden he found himself cold, naked and on his knees before the Lord. He had never even thought to look anywhere below the waist of the being whose body was stretching the bounds of his narrow range of comprehension. But now it seemed impossible that he could have missed the truly intimidating evidence of masculinity which even limp made his shoulders tremble with weakness.

All his life the commander had lain only with women. He had a son. But somehow, on his knees cowed by shame and fear, Maro could not imagine anything but obedience. As terrible as he was, the Dread Father was also a creature of the most inescapable majesty and Maros felt unworthy to even brush such flesh.

But this hesitation was disobedience, and as he felt the weight of Sithis’ displeasure the Imperial choked on the subsequent pain. No more needed to be said. Without further pause Maro leaned forward, brushing his lips against the soft length. He started at first, when careful claws brushed across the back of his head, a simmering awareness creeping along his nervous limbs.

His heart throbbed a staccato beat within him. Maro moved closer again, wrapping his lips around the heavy tip. The commander felt ashamed, embarrassed as his tongue began to sweep the end, sucking at it with an anxiety that just seemed to grow. The lord was not responding, he had to be doing it wrong, and the fear of Sithis’ displeasure made the Imperial feel frantic.

He pulled back for a moment, moving nervously to wet his lips. Looking up at that harsh face and the pitiless pools of the Dread Father’s eyes only made his heart leap more, made the man more desperate to please. Mouth watering and hands aquiver Maros held onto the strong thighs he tried not to contemplate. He buried his face against that heavy flesh again, trembling at the scent of maleness, of fear that made him swallow his pride and take the god into his throat.

Maro tasted darkness on his tongue, suckled it, hot and desperate. His grip was probably too hard on those thighs, but his heart was beating so hard and he wanted the Dark Father pleased, just anything to soothe the looming of his gaze. Working his tongue along the underside, he rubbed that place that felt so good on him, moved himself, fucking his mouth on the limp length in a plea.

Finally he felt it thicken, and Maros almost sobbed in relief. The feeling was hot, and surprised the commander with the force of it. Weight was building up between his own frightened thighs, but it didn’t deter his movements. If anything the Imperial was moving more urgently. He was embarrassed as saliva welled in his mouth and he started sucking eagerly at that hardening length. The Dread Lord had to be pleased with him, and he wanted that, wanted it so much. That terrible cock was growing large enough to scare him, but not as much as the thought of Sithis’ anger, or the frightening excitement of his pleasure. It was big, but Maro took as much as he could in anyway, even as the heat of shame made his sex heavy.

He was crying, as desperately he sucked the Dread Lord, but even hard while Maro swallowed his heavy cock Sithis did not truly acknowledge him. The commander would take anything, just to not have to so actively submit. If the lord would just fuck his throat, use him, make him surrender. But the way it was he was doing it himself, humiliating himself, aching in the most shameful way as he began to crave that degradation. He deserved this, yearning as the old god was served, as subjecting himself made his unworthy mouth wet. Maros was no elite here, just a simpering whore begging for the acknowledgement of their lord.

Sharp claws ran under his dark hair, shivering across the back of his neck. “Such a base, filthy creature to be so excited at this. Do you feel it now, Maro? Do you want to be forgiven?”

A/N: Sorry about the double post above.

Maro trembled at the voice, pulling slowly off the cock he had his mouth so thoroughly impaled on, lips swollen and aching as he reluctantly parted from the tip he suckled so ashamedly. “Please, Dread Father… I will be better. I am s-sorry…”

“That remains to be seen, Maro. You feel shame now, but I know you can feel it more acutely. Mortals… all so simple, so easy, yet so twisted deep inside. I see your desire, Maro. You cry and sob for shame at serving me and yet you beg for degradation with your wretched cock. There is nothing of you that I do not see. Acknowledge your depravity. Touch that weeping sex, stoke and rub yourself until you sob with base need while you humiliate yourself before me. I will teach you humility, and control.”

He had never imagined the Dread Lord would give him such and order. The Imperial trembled, looking down between his legs at the hard sex blushing red and glistening with an embarrassing amount of moisture. Already it hurt with the heat that throbbed there, but Sithis had ordered him to touch it, debase himself and admit that pleasuring this terrible god was making him hungry, excited. He cried as one hand wrapped around the sensitive flesh, gasping in shame and excitement as his quivering hand moved up the length and ground his thumb against the raw wet tip. Claws pressed him, and Maro didn’t hesitate before taking the lord inside his mouth again.

It made him worse, tasting that heat and darkness, feeling ruined as his hand began to work between his own thighs. But it felt so good, his hips trembling as he rubbed his swollen length, his mouth aching around the cock in his throat. It did not take long for pleasure to build up in the ache between his legs. He was milking himself, all the wetness seeping from his tip making it slick and good. The pain of being on his knees only enhanced the feeling of submission, and hand started speeding up as it worked up and down his throbbing flesh. It almost hurt to rub his tip at this point, made him jerk and whimper as he sucked his lord harder getting closer and closer to the edge.

He was going to come, could feel it building up and the sounds were wet and dirty as he worked himself in the darkness. Maro was trembling, so close, his turgid flesh leaking all over his hand as he was about to fall over the end.

But he didn’t. A hoarse noise of despair tore from the commander’s throat as his panting mouth pulled off the Dread Lord’s wet cock. He couldn’t come. The Imperial was confused, his distraught, frightened gaze rolling up to Sithis, who only smiled with those terrible teeth, dragging him back onto the heat of his frightful cock.

“This is not for you, Maro. And don’t you dare stop, I want you to keep touching that filthy flesh. Get your blasphemous hands back on there and rub yourself, I will tell you when you may stop.”

Maro was shaking, fear and awful pleasure making him sob again as his wet mouth worked upon his Dread Lord’s cock. His hands trembled, and he whined before the claws upon his head brought such dark terror that finally he brought his hand back down to touch himself. The commander’s hips jerked immediately, spasms making him whine and whimper as he wept while his calloused thumb rubbed over the raw weeping tip of his hard organ. He was just on the edge, and every touch made it worse as his body begged for release. When he wrapped his hand around his length he found himself fucking it with the most acute desperation, pleasuring his lord, beseeching him with every gesture.

He sucked on the tip, mouthed the balls, and swallowed the Dread Lord’s cock until he could not take in any more. He was being punished, and he was would do anything to be forgiven.

A/N: Almost done.

How long he sat there on his knees, writhing in torment, his hand working over his flesh until he could do nothing but cry and beg his lord with pennant lips, he would never know. But when at last Sithis moved that awful clawed hand and nudged his mouth away from the cock he had been worshipping with shameful fever he hardly remembered anything of the man he used to be.

“That is better, Maro. You feel it now, you want to repent. Good. You are nearly done with this night’s penance. My, but you do appear to be in such exquisite pain. Would you like relief, insolent Maro?”

In such a state Maro could hardly form the complexity of words. All he managed was nodding, desperate tearful jerks of the head as his blurry eyes looked up in awe filled fear at the god before him.

When the god spoke next his tone seemed pleased. “Mmmm. For your relief, you will beg to submit to me. You will forfeit your blasphemous body, that so offended me completely. Beg to me to use you and tonight’s torment will be complete.”

Maro was shaking, beyond all ideas of defiance, as all he wanted now was to finally be forgiven. Anything for but a moment of his Lord’s benevolence. His voice was deep and hoarse from sucking off the terrible god, lips aching with the shame that throbbed between his legs. “P-please, please Dread Father, f-fuck me. Use me. P-punish me and let me repent for my d-defiance. Fuck me h-hard, I deserve nothing less. I beg you, please…please…I need it.”

A deep laugh echoed in the silence of the void, the Dread Father seemingly amused as his dark gaze bored down into Maro’s trembling mortal form. The Maro of hours ago would have no doubt felt outraged at the mocking laughter of Sithis at his subjugated state. The man he was now was simply relieved that the god at least seemed pleased with him.

“Now there is a good boy, Maros. Turn around, I want you to offer yourself to me.”

The commander did not hesitate this time. He turned about, giving the looming god his back, and lowered his shoulders to the ground like the whores he’d paid at countless inns. It was hard to understand how vulnerable the position was until he himself was it, he found it even more embarrassing than he had imagined. Still, he did not move, Maro kept position even as his heart beat franticly and his mind flew with wild speculations as to what it would be like. He didn’t think the Dread Lord would be gentle.

After what seemed like days of waiting, the disturbing feeling of claws gliding over his flank made the commander jump. His fists clenched, but he kept himself from trying to look back. It was difficult, as he felt those terrible hands exploring his form so casually. They stroked his sides, and traced the muscles of his back. Maro actually moaned when they weighed his aching sac, and brushed over his member’s dripping tip. But those touches lasted all too briefly. Fingers and claws became more purposeful as they perused his ass, squeezing the globes of it to make him start. He recognized the building awareness the Dread Lord was causing. He stroked his bottom, grazing the entrance made humiliatingly slick from the products of his excitement just before the hands roughly knocked his knees farther apart.

The sudden openness actually made Maro yelp, his hands fisting in a futile attempt to control his fright. Sithis was rubbing his inner thighs now, claws dragging just enough to whisper pain as the commander forced himself to stay still for his lord. A rough chuckle seemed to resonate in the Void, and that frightening length finally brushed itself against him.

A/N: The final part.

He was scared, but it didn’t stop his cock from aching at the action. As much as he would not want to admit it, he was eager for the mounting. Even now his cock dripped with arousal, and the Dread Lord had promised his reward if he behaved well.

There was no warning when Sithis forced himself inside him. Maro yelled, as it stung and burned, and he trembled with agony as it pierced him inside. It wasn’t killing him though, and the Dread Lord did not move. He was paused there, and with a chilling comprehension Maro knew that he did not have all the dark god inside. He trembled, trying to remember the sorts of things he’d told his whores, to breathe, to relax. It was harder than it looked, but Sithis wasn’t moving, not until he submit completely. He sobbed just silently at the shame of it all, but as the arousal ached still between his legs and his body adjusted to the intrusion he relaxed, he surrendered.

The Dread Lord started to move then, working his way deeper, violating every part of him. Maro let it happen, the pain still lingering, but being overshadowed by the deeply obedient pleasure of feeling a god fucking him, using his body. The cock inside him was so big, too much for a mortal, but even as it hurt it touched places he had never imagined. Grinding and ravaging his aching form, it only added to his twisted pleasure.

“You wish for your end?” the Dread Lord whispered, his tone no different from any other moment, as if he wasn’t using the human beyond all sense or reason.

“Yes, yes… please… please, My Lord,” Maro begged, his body now trembling under the god’s violent thrusts. All he could think about was the heavy cock moving in and out, rubbing him, touching him, putting him into his place. He needed to come, the pleasure was excruciating, and he just wanted to be done, to be forgiven.

“Then come Maro, like the depraved creature you are. Embrace the Void.”

And he did. He came and the force, the reality of it wrecked him utterly. Maro sent himself into the darkness, feeling utter subjugation. He cried, and whined, and moaned in the violent echoes of that merciless orgasm. And he felt the burning darkness of Sithis’ climax fucked into his tender body despoil him further.

That looming form had dissolved and returned to its true state, and in that reality the Void embraced him. “You are forgiven, Maro. Now go and join your brothers and sisters.”

Maro nodded, picking himself up off despite his aches and shaking limbs and nodded meekly into the blackness. Even in his pain he never remembered being so content.

The man Commander Maro had been was ruined, but he was reborn. Redeemed.

At first I was like, "Oh no, poor Maro!"
And then I was like, "Oh yes, poor Maro!"
And then I was like, "Oh yeeesss, hail Sithis!"

Thank you for making my evening, A!a!

This may be the hottest thing I have ever read. Loved every word. This meme needs moar Dread Father pr0n! Hail Sithis!

Have to admit, this wasn't an idea I thought would be hot...

...oh, how wrong I was. And so well written. Holy ~~shit~~ Sithis.

Goddamn that was really hot. All the stuff about penance and metaphysics makes it even more so, unf. brb I'll be in my bunk.

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