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>When posting prompts, always remember to add kinks you're both looking for and wanting to avoid in a potential fill.
>When filling, please remember to add your story tags: characters, relationship types, kinks, series and universe (ie: skyrim)
>Our character limit here at LJ is 4300.
>If you have any other questions about posting, visit the HOW TO KINK MEME THREAD, under the Page Summary on your left.
FDB goes to Apocrypha to stop Miraak, gets tentacle fucked instead
Date: 2013-10-05 08:59 pm (UTC)+ Petite Bosmer DB
+ DB decides that after defeating Miraak it wouldn't be so bad to go back once in a while for more.
Re: FDB goes to Apocrypha to stop Miraak, gets tentacle fucked instead
Date: 2013-10-11 11:04 pm (UTC)Re: FDB goes to Apocrypha to stop Miraak, gets tentacle fucked instead
Date: 2013-11-03 10:12 pm (UTC)Ink of Apocrypha (1/?)
Date: 2014-03-05 05:58 am (UTC)Fear rose in her like never before. Accustomed to darkness, unafraid of blood, and a practitioner of torture, Desnia’s small hands had dealt their fair share of pain, especially since becoming Listener of the Dark Brotherhood. She thought herself above terror, unshakeable, for none could match the terror she had inspired!
But she was so wrong.
Desnia charged through corridors of shelves, barreled through stacks of papers, and charged across slimy bridges overlooking oceans of ink, her heart pounding what she thought would be its last. Behind her, the most horrid of all things stomped after her, screaming in a voice that echoed like a million of her own screams in anticipation of the pain it would bring upon her.
Looking forward to revelry in the darkness of the void, of being taken by her Dread Father in every primal way, did not mean that she so desired to be trapped by some other Divine force and bent to its will just the same! Oh, the shame she felt just at the idea of being taken in something else’s realm! Would Sithis find her? Would he take her back into the Void where she belonged if she died here?
Panic blurred her vision, froze her lungs, stung her eyes. Fear like she’d never known it shook her to the core.
The papers slid out from beneath every one of her crazed footsteps, sending her sliding through a particularly dangerous hallway. The shelves on either side bent inward, making the whole straight hall feel like a cage. Pools of ink glimmered along the sides. Hardly able to control herself, the Bosmer slid on a stack of papers, and just as she began to recover, tripped over a heavy tome. Under normal circumstances, she would have been fine. Maybe she would have gracefully rolled out of the fall, or leapt like a gazelle over the obstacle in the first place. But under the pressure that was drowning out every instinct she ever knew, there was no escape from the pit of swirling black liquid that rippled excitedly before she even touched its surface.
Ink of Apocrypha (2/?)
Date: 2014-03-05 06:00 am (UTC)Then it changed. Ribbons of ink turned solid around her, coiling around her ankles to draw her down deeper. They explored her body, like sentient tendrils of seaweed tangling around her. Her beautiful red and black leathers were pulled from her body, the tentacles oblivious to her thrashing against them.
The oil-given-life, snaked its way around her neck, wrists, waist, and thighs, and pulled them all apart, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. This time when she screamed, Desnia found to her slight relief that she could breathe—the ink filled her lungs painfully, but seemed capable of sustaining her.
Dozens of tiny tendrils appeared all over the surface of her body, but were particularly concentrated down below, right between her spread legs. Like a hundred little tongues, they prodded and wiggled along her surface in all different directions, only giving way when a much larger tentacle pushed through them. The smaller tentacles continued to swirl all around, kneading against her clit and all the way around and down, and more still danced across her belly, some of them pushing against her flesh aggressively while others seemed content just to breeze over her skin like petals in water.
The larger tentacle poised itself right at her entrance, and Desnia swore she could hear the low rumble of Hermaeus Mora’s laughter as the writhing ribbon of ink, thick as the hilt of Desnia’s sword, pressed forward.
Her next scream was far less fearful, now that she had the gentle ministrations of a hundred smaller tentacles providing her with a different perspective on this violation. Her skin was electric, and the tentacle inside of her, wriggling deliciously like no man ever could, was an experience that she’d not even dared to imagine would await her in the Void!
Re: Ink of Apocrypha (3/3)
Date: 2014-03-05 06:02 am (UTC)And then, abruptly, it stopped. The ribbons of ink darted away, the tentacles slipping out of her and leaving her empty, incomplete, just as the warmth had begun to swell and over take her.
Those that remained, the ones that held her ankles and wrists, pulled her upward, back to the surface. Would the Prince himself be waiting for her, to offer her a new bargain? Would she be brought right to the book, her passage earned?
The ribbons pulled her out, and though she’d been able to breathe well enough, she screamed out in relief to feel real air fill her lungs once more. Her whole body remained slick with oily ink, her tawny hair matted and stuck to her slender body.
What now? Was it over?
Her eyes adjusted to the light of the hallway, right where she’d fallen. Standing so tall that it had to bend forward in order to fit in the corridor, the Lurker she’d been running from loomed over her, inky black saliva dripping from its wide jaw set with dozens of razor-sharp teeth.
The tentacles that had moments ago been her best friends were now her restraints as the beast lumbered over to her, growling incoherently. Her bindings pulled her back, so that she was held aloft in front of it, facing upward to watch its fish-like face when the tentacles down below forced her legs further apart.
If the tentacles from before had been the size of her sword’s hilt, the Lurker was as bigger than her fist, and even at its first ram into her, it went far deeper than the tentacles had. It thrust again, and the tentacles around her writhed in their own fit of passion. Its third thrust, Desnia cried out with less fear and pain and more satisfaction. By its fourth, her whole body shook violently with overwhelming completion, which lasted five, six, seven, eight thrusts more until finally the beast roared to match Desnia’s ragged screams of completion.
Around her, the ink fell away, letting her drop in a heap on the paper floor. The Lurker lumbered down some other hall, apparently no longer caring what she did in its master’s realm.
A few minutes were spent collecting herself, and a few more finding her ink-covered armor all over the hall and getting dressed. With a significant waver to her every step, Desnia clamored back to the end of the chapter, where the black tome awaited her.
“I don’t know if you’re a friend or foe,” the Bosmer whispered hoarsely, knowing full well that she would be heard, “but unless the Night Mother tells me there’s shit like that in the Void, I think we might have a few common interests to explore.”
Re: Ink of Apocrypha (3/3)
Date: 2014-03-06 03:12 am (UTC)Character: F!Listener / DB
Kinks: Tentacles, choking, beastiality/monster, non-con-turned-dub-con-turned-con
Re: Ink of Apocrypha (3/3)
Date: 2014-05-04 12:27 am (UTC)Re: Ink of Apocrypha (3/3)
Date: 2014-05-04 09:26 am (UTC)