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Skyrim Page 5 - "NAKED! Naked naked naked "

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I know this is so terrible to ask but I totally want one of the Thalmor Agents or Mages taking a very unwilling Fasendil.

Whether its in revenge or to torture him or whatever, j-just give me the poor Legate bending to the one thing he hates more than anything.

Squicks would be bathroom stuff and death but torture is alright. More so if its psychological torture.

This took me less than three hours to write bollocks

Characters: Legate Fasendil, random Thalmor Patrol
Genre: PWP
Relationships: Slash
Warnings: , minor violence
Summary: It's never smart to make your hatred known.

Tags: char:legate_fasendil, kink:forced_orgasm, kink:anal, kink:non_con, relationships:slash, race:Altmer, es:skyrim

Notes: I've been in a serious writing rut and I don't know why seeing this prompt got me going. I haven't written slash since like, september but why not. I mean, don't get me wrong I love the Legate but I really do think his hatred for his own kin would come and bite him in the ass someday.

Fasendil stood on the road watching the leaves on the trees around him fall to the earth and he sighed, content. His afternoon patrol yielded nothing of concern, no Stormcloak patrols or bandits looking to prey on travellers and he was now doing one last walk before he would head back. It was days like this he enjoyed as they rarely seemed to come. Every manner of trouble was in the Rift, from common horse thieves to bears with a taste for flesh so when none crossed his path it felt good. As if his patrols was working.

He breathed in the air, watching as a rabbit poked its head out from a burrow, cautious before it went in and he smiled, beginning to walk again. He shifted his sword, his eyes setting forward and he walked in silence, only a few birds calling to each other through the trees breaking it.

It was not far from the trail he would take towards his camp where he met them. A patrol of Thalmor. It made him stop and his body become stiff. If he could, he would cut them down as there was nothing more abhorrent in the province as a group of Thalmor. Thankfully this group didn’t have anyone in tow behind them but he knew they were looking.

The leader, a tall mage noticed him and the bastard slowed down giving him a smile. He said nothing.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the Legate of the Rift,” the mage smirked and Fasendil pursed his lips, his jaw tight. He felt his sword at his side, quiet as they approached and he gave a half bow; just enough to make them think he meant it but not enough to disgrace himself. He couldn’t stand the bastards. “How are you….? Falandil?”

“Fasendil,” he corrected, his words sharp. “Legate Fasendil.”

“Ah, yes,” the Agent apologized. “My mistake. Legate Fasendil. How are you?”

He shrugged. He wasn’t in the mood to talk and he made it apparent. It was rude but there was no point in trying to feign pleasantries. He knew the Thalmor and they knew men and mer in return. If he tried to play them they would only find a way to screw him and he didn’t want to give them anything.

He sighed. “Excuse me, I need to get back to my men.”

“You know… we’ve heard about you,” the Agent commented making him look up. “About how you dislike us so much. About where you’ve been stationed with the empire. Your time in Sentinel.”

He narrowed his eyes, his hand reaching to touch the pommel of his sword. “So what?”

“We know about your parents,” the Agent shrugged, slowly walking around him and Fasendil stiffened, his hand going to grip the handle now, silent as he watched him. “Such nice mer, aren’t they? They’re… just outside of Cyrodiil aren’t they?”

“Are you threatening me?” Fasendil finally spat, his voice shaking. The Agent shrugged but he was smiling.

“Nothing of the sort. I’m just talking. You’re the one interpreting this wrong,” he said defensively but he was smiling like a fox who had stolen a chicken. “But… these rumors of you asking to be in Skyrim to watch us… how true are they?”

He said nothing, glaring at the mer. He would not fall into their trap, he knew their ways. The Agent sighed at his silence, stopping to cross his arms, reaching up to rub his nose. “Dear me, Legate, not talking now? Maybe we should put in an order to re-station you. I hear Winterhold is lovely this time of year. Or how about sending you to the Isles? I know a few of our kin who want to meet you.”

He pulled out his sword, pointing it at the mage and the two soldiers behind him unsheathed their weapons making him tense. “Leave, mer. And I won’t kill you where you stand.”

“Now you’re threatening me?” the Agent said, his eyes lighting up as he looked to him. “That’s a big mistake, Fasendil…”

“Leave!” he shouted, not putting up with this any longer and the Agent moved, his hands crackling with electricity and Fasendil dodged it, rushing to the side so he faced all three. One of the soldiers ran forward, his sword a bright sparkling green indicating its make but he met his swing, kicking the mer back. He may have had a superior weapon but he was inexperienced. He swung at him, cutting his armor and a bolt of electricity hit him causing him to stagger back.

The Agent had his eyes on him. “Boys,” he called. “Stay out of this. He’s mine.”

Fasendil smirked. “Fine with me. They can watch me cut off your head.”

“We’ll see,” the Agent smiled. “But I have a feeling I’ll be the one teaching you a lesson.”

He snorted and went forward, slashing at the Agent who dodged back, keeping out of his range. He was doing it deliberately as his magic wasn’t as effective in a short range position and Fasendil kept on his feet as he could only attack in said range. It was more of a dance they had to play, one keeping up with the other but he had the stamina to do it, his heavy armor not keeping him from it. The Agent didn’t seem pleased with it and it made him smile. He would show the bastard no mercy when he struck him down.

Their dance took them off the road, his strikes not hitting as fast as he wanted, the Agent more precise in his aim until he was hit with a large bolt of lightning knocking him to his feet. The metal on his armor was his downfall and he sat, shaking, as the current ran through him. It gave his opponent enough time to come and knock him back and his sword was taken and tossed away, the straps on his armor being pulled and Fasendil fought, his fingers shaking as he did.

He was punched in the side of the head knocking stars into his vision and he stopped fighting as his only means of defense was stripped from him, the Agent smiling as he tossed his gear behind him. He moved, looming over him and Fasendil did try to get away but his hair was grabbed, his body being forced to do as the Thalmor wanted. He found himself being dragged up the small hill away from the road, struggling as he did.

As soon as they were well enough away, the Agent let go of him letting him grab at his throbbing skull, feeling where his hairs were pulled and he turned to see the damned mer undoing his robes, his trousers being pulled down which made him stop. Before he could react he was grabbed and forced forward, made to be flush with him, the Agent’s cock nearly hitting his cheek.

He shook, his eyes on it. He did not expect this. “Suck, Legate.”

He set his jaw tight, refusing. He would not do such a fucking disgusting thing. Not to anyone, especially a Thalmor and the Agent’s nails began digging into his skull making him wince. He wouldn’t sleep ever again if he gave in to this willingly. He looked away, adamant of his refusal and he was punched, hard. It made him cry out and the cock went thrusting into his mouth, the texture making him gag.

He tried pulling away, the soft cock abhorrent against his lips but he was held tight, forced to take it and he shook, shutting his eyes. The damn bastard would pay for this, mark his words. He tried not to move as the cock in his mouth started to twitch. It was becoming hard and he started thrashing again, trying to get away.

The Agent relented only so he could stroke himself off, keeping Fasendil’s still in front of him. “What’s the matter, Fasendil? I thought an Altmer like you was used to sucking cock. Especially the Empire’s.”

He hissed at him, not taking the bait. The semi-hard cock hit his lips and he flinched, not wanting to take that back in his mouth but the Agent didn’t try again. Instead he held him close, using his hand to start stroking himself off and Fasendil was made to sit beside him being subjected to it. It made him grit his teeth. This was disturbing, even for the Thalmor.

“Ah, here we go,” the Agent purred as he became fully erect, his length making Fasendil flush. “Don’t worry, you’ll soon feel this inside that ass of yours.”

“W-What?!” he choked, looking up at the damn mer. “Y-You can’t be serious.”

The Agent smiled, one that was cruel and cold and he began to fight again, trying everything to get away. His mouth? Fine. He could always rinse it out with water. His backside? No. There was no fix for that violation. He fought, swinging at the agent but his stomach was kicked causing him to double over and electricity shot down his back making him shout. His nerves were sent into overdrive, his legs shaking and his eyes wild and he was tossed onto all fours, his uniform being forced up.

He struggled to stop it, his mind like sloshing water in a bowl, his limbs not working and he felt his underwear get ripped off with a rough grip, the fabric being tossed beside him. He stared, confused when something touched his backside. It was cold and thick making him try and see but the electricity did a number on him. He could only struggle to regain his body back, whatever was being poured on him not a concern and he slowly regained function of his arms. He groaned when he did, his nerves tingling.

“Don’t tense,” the damned Agent said and he turned, ready to spit at him when something hit his backside. He stopped, not sure on what to think when the mer’s cock hit his entrance again and started pushing. He froze, clenching which got him a slap to his head and he spit in anger, turning but the damned Thalmor Agent decided to keep going, forcing his way in and Fasendil panted, twisting.

“S-Stop!” he begged, trying to clench and make him but he kept pushing, stretching his insides and he shook, sick to his stomach. He just kept pushing in, their impressive size now making him shake in regret that his race wasn’t normal and he finally felt his body hit his own indicating he was fully in. Fasendil had to pant, relieved it was over but the feeling was still driving him insane. He was fucking large and he wasn’t built to take it. It felt like his intestines were being flattened.

He whimpered which made the Agent chuckle. “It seems you’re built to be on the receiving end of the Thalmor, Legate,” he commented making him grit his teeth. “I should spread the word around.”

“F-Fuck you,” he spat and a hard, rough thrust made him cry out, falling onto his hands and knees, his chest heaving. Gods, he wouldn’t be surprised if he was bleeding internally. He got his hair ruffled in response.

“Be a good boy, Fasendil,” the Agent mocked. He said nothing in return as the damn cock sank back into him, fitting in fully again.

He stilled, his voice of protest catching in his throat and for a second he didn’t move, feeling the intrusion inside his body, how it throbbed and hurt before he heard the damn Agent behind him moan. It sent him into a rage, his legs kicked out to try and get away, his hands fighting and his efforts were punished with a bruising burn to his hips, the flame making him scream. He thrashed, clenching, his chest heaving and the Agent moaned again.

“You’re so tight, Legate.”

“Fuck you!” he shouted, struggling to get away despite the burn making his eyes water and he was shoved to the earth, spitting as his chin hit the leaves below. The damn Agent thrust in as hard as he could and Fasendil couldn’t help but shout in utter pain, coughing as his face was slammed against the earth once more.

“Yes, squirm more, Legate. It just makes this more enjoyable!” the Agent purred, pressing his face more against the leaves, beginning to ride him. Fasendil only grit his teeth and closed his eyes, not responding. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction over him and he thought to his training, focusing hard on anything but what was happening to him. The thrusting in his body made it difficult though.

His cock was grabbed and his eyes opened, frantic. He immediately went down, grabbing at the hand on him but the harsh squeeze made him clench and stop, choking a bit. “Now, now Fasendil. No reason you can’t enjoy this either.”

“Let go of me!” he spat, shaking as the damned Thalmor’s hand moved stroking him hard. “S-Stop it!”

“You’re getting hard so clearly your body doesn’t want me to stop,” he said and Fasendil twisted. He was right; he was getting hard, the damn hand on him knowing just how to stroke and he fought even harder, trying to get away but it was futile. A knife hit his throat and he stopped, his body tensing at the blade against his skin and the Agent chuckled. “May I remind you, you’re not in charge, I am…”

Fasendil said nothing, quiet and his hair was grabbed making him hiss. He was forced onto just his knees, his hands reaching behind to grab at the ones tearing his skull and he was pulled onto the Thalmor’s lap, the new position making him tense as the asshole behind him thrust up.

He shook; it felt like he was fucking his lower stomach.

He kissed his neck making him flinch and the blade pressed back against his neck making him freeze, stuck between a rock and a hard place. Literally. The damn Agent chuckled and started fucking him, his free hand reaching back down to grab his cock and stroke. He tried prying his hands away again but the knife pressed against his jaw, slightly cutting him making him stop. He had no choice but to relent.

It sickened him. His body was being relentlessly violated by the one thing he despised more than anything and he couldn’t do anything about it unless he wished to lose his head. He contemplated it but the thought of letting himself die by a Thalmor made him angry. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

But his inability to move, the knife on his throat, the hand stroking him was starting to get to him and he started to whine, his hips bucking and he found himself shamefully riding the Thalmor Agent, his teeth gritting as he did. He begged that his ancestors – that the gods – would forgive him and he choked as he started to lose it, thrusting into the hand jerking him off.

The Thalmor behind him angled and he drove up hitting something that made him cry out. It hurt, the mer’s cock large and deliberately moving to stretch him but whatever he was rubbing was making him lose it even more. His stomach was on fire, his hands shaking as pleasure started flooding his mind with every stroke and he closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. He didn’t want to come, he didn’t want to let a damn Thalmor Agent get off knowing he broke him but his cock and his ass and his head swimming was making him become a bit animalistic. He groaned in all his shame. The Agent chuckled and thrust even harder.

He didn’t last long, his stomach tightening and he let out a strangled cry as he finally came, thrashing against the cock fucking him, his seed coating the Thalmor Agent’s hand. He groaned deep, a familiar feeling flooding him but his pleasure didn’t last long, his disgust and shame more apparent and he had to remain in his awkward position as the damned Thalmor continued to fuck him, his body shaking slightly from the aftermath.

His thrusts were brutal, his touch purposely rough and he yelped as his shoulder was bit by the other Altmer, his hand moving off his cock to reach down and stretch him as well and Fasendil shouted as he was abused by his kin.

It seemed to get the other one off even more and he groaned against his ear making him shudder in disgust. He could hear it when he came as his thrusts sounded sloppier and wet, something dripping down from his body and Fasendil shut his eyes, trying hard not to think about it lest he wretch on himself.

The Agent finally pulled out and he let go of him, his knife withdrawing letting Fasendil fall forward onto his hands and knees, panting as he felt how stretched and dirty he was. He reached behind, rubbing his ass and the damned Agent snorted. “You look very well-fucked, Legate.”

“Fuck you,” he said again, not looking at him. The damned mer grabbed him by his hair, forcing him back making him hiss and he made him look up to him.

“What was that?” he pulled out his knife and Fasendil said nothing, his jaw tight. “You wish to repeat yourself?”

He continued to be silent and the grip on his head loosened making him relax a bit. But with his guard off the Thalmor took advantage of it and he slashed his cheek making him shout and yank away, grabbing his face.

“A reminder, Legate Fasendil,” he sneered. “To keep your mouth shut unless you want another one of us fucking your tight ass. And we will.”

“Just leave,” he growled back, the blood now dripping down his cheek and the Agent smiled down at him.

“Until next time then,” he smirked, straightening his robes before he left him, moving back to the road where the two soldiers stood. Fasendil didn’t move, listening to the sounds of their footsteps retreating, his mind muggy and his body aching before he tried to sit down. It hurt too much and he stopped, awkwardly remaining on his hands and knees for a minute until he finally got up.

He staggered, righting himself before going to grab his sword, tugging his armor on, his fingers shaking as he did up the straps. It took him some time to get off the hill, his backside hurting more than he thought it would and he started the long walk back to his camp, pausing only once to wretch in disgust.

He blamed himself for what happened, for being so rusty that he didn’t cut off the damn Thalmor’s head but there was no use in dwelling on it. He would just have to recover and train. That was what was driving him on as he staggered back into the camp, ignoring his men looking at him. He needed to train, to get back to that level he used to be in his youth where he could cut down his own hateful kin and if needed, use his magic as well.

He stepped into his tent, pulling the flaps down as he did and he went to his chest, digging out a few healing potions to drink, his body hurting, his cheek still bleeding. There was a slight knock on the wooden pole and the animal ski flap was moved as the Quartermaster looked in.

“Legate? Everything alright?” he asked and Fasendil sighed.

“Yeah,” he muttered, pulling off the cork of one of the potions. “Everything’s fine.” The Quartermaster didn’t move and he looked at him. “What?”

“Nothing but…” he hesitated. “You look like you fought a cave bear.”

He pursed his lips. “I didn’t,” he muttered. “Animals aren’t as cruel and disgusting as men.”

The Quartermaster frowned, giving him a look of sympathy as if he knew but he said no more and left, leaving him to be with his potions and stained pride. He drank down another bottle before he took off his armor and struggled to lay on his bed. He kept his sword at his side, not trusting his flimsy tent and he looked up at the ceiling, exhausted. He shook, almost flying into a fit over what happened but he stilled himself and began blocking it from his mind. He needed to move forward, not dwell on the past.

Tomorrow, he would begin to train and make sure he was ready the next time a Thalmor patrol dared walk in the Rift. He didn’t care if they were their supposed allies, he deserved his revenge.

--

omg Please, A!A, please tell me Fasendil gets his revenge, or at least some sort of comfort! When I came across Fasendil I wished my DB could marry him and together they could rain hell on every Thalmor patrol ever.
I'll do a prompt if I must!

OP here! THANK YOU SO MUCH! This was absolutely delicious and I feel so bad for dear Fasendil being forced to get off to it but guuuuh it made it so much hotter. TYSM.

Oh poor Fasendil!!!
I sincerely hope that he'll get his rightful revenge!
You know this is sorta parallel to Alla's own rape by Ancano. Maybe the two would connect on some level on how they were abused by those cruel bastards. Maybe they do and plot bloody-vengeances on unsuspecting Thalmor patrols; taking them out one-by-one mwahahaha! >)

well done A!A - looks like your writer's rut is now over ;)

We need him getting revenge on a Thalmor chick. Badly.

Excuse me? Did you just really imply that a male who suffered through a rape should go out and rape a female in return????

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