Skyrim Page 5 - "NAKED! Naked naked naked "

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Listener+Spectral Assassin “Voidbound” Part 5

[(Anonymous)]

His fingers push further inside her mouth, stopping just before he hits the place that would cause her to gag. The ghost seems to be acutely aware of her limits, but Lumen still bites down hard on his fingers to prevent them from going any deeper.

"You are in dire need of discipline," he says, flicking the tip of the dagger over her hard nipple, and Lumen groans in response. "That's what the Black Hand said about me, you know,” he flicks the tip over her other nipple, looking rather pleased when he gets the same reaction. “In my case it was not true.”

Lumen can barely hear his words over the blood pounding in her ears. She rubs her thighs together, desperate for any amount of friction to fight against that pulsing need between her legs. But she halts her squirming when she feels the tip of the dagger come to rest against the soft, divot of flesh between her collar bones.

Lumen realizes that the truly stupid thing she has done is to think of Lucien Lachance is a mortal man. If he'd possessed the ability to feel empathy or regret when he was alive, then surely it is gone now. A spirit of the Void has no need for such things. A true murderer, through and through. As likely to kill her as he is to fuck her. He’d probably do both if it weren’t for the tenants preventing him from slitting her throat when all is said and done.

“Patience, Listener. You can’t appreciate pleasure until you've learned to appreciate pain,” he murmurs, and pulls his fingers from her mouth, leaving a strange, metallic taste upon her tongue. Lucien's fingers skim across her breasts, and he pinches a nipple hard with his saliva-slicked fingers. Lumen sucks in a breath, determined not to cry out.

“Ah, how I have missed this. The flesh of the living is always ripe for pain," the ghost purrs. "Turn around, Listener," he orders, smacking her on the rear to hurry her along.

Deciding that any hesitation will likely earn more discomfort, Lumen turns to face the wall. The ethereal binds around her wrists growing tighter as the rope twists around the sconce. Turning her back on Lucien goes against every survival instinct she has, and panic fully grips her when he starts to trace the contours of her back with his dagger. As the blade is drawn down her spine it begins to change -- becoming soft and supple like leather, the tip splitting into nine different ends when it reaches the generous swell of her bottom.

"Do you know what this is?" he asks, drawing the ghostly, nine-tailed whip along her sides.

"I do," Lumen grits out, torn between anger and curiosity. No one has ever dared to whip her, and she's never desired it. However, her body is infinitely more honest than she’ll ever be, and she bites her lip when she feels a wet trickle of desire run down her inner thigh in response to the whip.

Lucien chuckles. “Eager, are we? I was always fond of this particular punishment. Unfortunately for me, my captors preferred metal rather than leather. But fortunately for you, I do not wish to leave you with any permanent damage."

"Well thank the Night Mother for small favors," Lumen says, and her sarcasm is repaid by Lucien snapping the tails across her back, making her cry out in both surprise and pain. He doesn’t give her a moment of respite, and another lash falls across her shoulder blades, then the small of her back.

It hurts. It hurts worse than she ever expected. But with each kiss of the whip’s tails, she gains a heightened awareness of her own body. The sound of her racing heart is almost deafening. Her flesh so sensitized that she swears she can feel every mote of dust crashing against her skin, and every bead of sweat skittering across her flesh like fingernails. Each subsequent touch of the cold, incorporeal whip is more potent than the last. It’s tails sending warm tendrils of pain splashing across her flesh like the seed of an amorous lover.