Decorative Destruction

BY : JayDee
Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Oblivion
Dragon prints: 440
Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion or Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace or any of the characters from them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Decorative Destruction
By JD
joandoe@gmail.com
 
Description: Drugged by Daedric incense, Jar Jar Binks anally rapes, mutilates and kills the sweet Khajiit Shamada. How wude!

Content Codes: Anal Anthro ChallengeFic COMPLETE Contro Fingering MC MF MCD Oneshot PWP Rape Violence Xeno

Warning: This story contains content that should not be read by people underneath the age of 21. It is 100% fiction and has no bearing on reality whatsoever. Real life rape is WRONG. The author does not condone illegal and immoral actions described.  Please read the story codes and stop reading if you can’t stomach that shit. Seriously, you’ll just hate it if you keep reading. Go read something nice about pretty elf boys. Like Zev.

Disclaimer and author’s note: I do not own The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion or Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace or any of the characters from them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. This story is written in gratitude to Khajiitophile and based on their requested scene.


The heat from the lake of fire nearby threatened to dry Jar Jar Binks’ amphibious Gungan skin. He blinked in confusion and turned behind him. The small portal he’d dived through had disappeared as quickly as it appeared, but the black armoured killer who’d come for him hadn’t managed to follow. Around about other small portals, windows into other worlds, winked out of existence.  He allowed himself a mildly relieved grin as he looked around and spotted another, much larger and apparently stable, portal nearby. Wherever it went, it had to be better than where he came from; things had been growing increasingly bleak since Palpatine took total power. A lot of people blamed him for that. His bare feet slapped against the hot rock as he made his way towards the portal. Burners set into towering buildings gave off a noxious scent, some kind of incense that made his head buzz. Jar Jar’s cock started to stiffen as he stumbled through the larger portal, away from the fiery plain of Oblivion, and out into bright sunshine.


A nicely filled picnic basket hung from Shamada’s arm as she made her way north along the water’s edge. The Khajiit had an afternoon off from working with her siblings at the aptly named Three Sisters’ inn and had arranged to meet her lover, Cat-Face the horse dealing Argonian. Their plans included a little light food, conversation and passionate love making. There were Khajiit who didn’t agree with their relationship, and Argonians who agreed even less, but Shamada let her continuing love show how much she cared for that. Cat-Face, for his part, had earned his name for long preferring the company of Khajiit. Her tail rose straight up  happily behind her as she rounded the trees to where they were to meet.

She dropped her basket.

“No!”

Cat-Face was dead. He’d put up quite a fight; there were the remains of two Daedroth about him, decent alchemical ingredients for those who had the skill, and signs that a third had stumbled away to die elsewhere. Shamada had only ever seen them in drawings before, but the final Daedra in the clearing was completely unknown to her. Tall, with long ears and long face, bugged out eyes; something about his skin skin made her wonder if he was instead a distant cousin of the Argonians. Black Marsh wasn’t far, after all. His clothing was shredded, hanging in rags around skinny hips. He turned on hearing her cry, and displayed a hard cock, muddy in colour but thick and long and leaking from the rounded spike tip. He opened his mouth to reveal large square teeth and a long tongue, hanging slack.

“Mesa horny,” it told her in strangely accented Imperial tongue, “Mesa do terrible tings to you!”

The Daedric incense had been intended to give the first wave of invaders an extra urge to violence and destruction in the service of Mehrunes Dagon. It had affected the Gungan a little differently almost as if it was Molag Bal’s work instead. At first Jar Jar had just felt incredibly hot. He’d shredded his own clothing as he stumbled through the sunshine, drawn to the scent of water. He had arrived to find Cat Face’s last breaths bubbling through an opened throat, as a Daedroth slipped wounded into the water. The last unaffected part of his normal character recognised the sudden urge to penetrate the dead man’s throat wound as utterly wrong. He’d been reaching for it anyway when the furry-faced female arrived and presented a much more tempting target.

She turned to run, to alert the Leyawiin guard, but her long skirt caught on her clawed feet and brought her down on the soft muddy bank. A sharp rock under her knee sent a terrible jolt up her leg. Shamada grunted with pain and frustration as mud filled her mouth. She spat it out, and shook it from her whiskers. Jar Jar’s weight landed on her back and forced the air from her lungs; her yowl stuttered out. She could feel him tugging her skirt up over her hips, bunching it around her tail. Khajiit didn’t like undergarments anyway, and Shamada never wore any to a visit with Cat-Face. Had she been an Imperial, she would have blushed as he exposed her. Something slimy-wet rubbed down the soft fur on the side of her face. His tongue! She whipped her long tail around furiously.

“Scum! Let me go!”

“Scream more, mesa kill you. Mesa kill you anyway. Boom!”

He felt like he could taste her fear. So good, but the whipping tail annoyed him. He pressed the furry skinned female into the ground with one strong four-fingered hand. He grabbed a firm hold on her tail with the other and pulled it sharply upwards. Bone cracked, and the sudden screech of pain seemed to make his cock even harder. An old and hard voice seemed to speak to him, to tell him that destroying this woman would please Mehrunes Dagon. He didn’t care; he just wanted to satiate his destructive lust. From the corner of his eye he saw the dropped picnic basket, a large chunk of soft butter half spilled on the floor. He released Shamada’s tail and reached for his new prize.

Tears glistened on Shamada’s facial fur. She choked back her urge to shout, and listened instead. The road nearby was busy so surely someone…? There were other screams, men, horses. Even if she did scream it seemed nobody would pay attention. Leyawiin was under attack! Her cat’s eyes grew wide as cool butter smeared between her buttocks. A career as an Inn hostess had seen her on her feet a lot. Her ass was firm and pert but Jar Jar’s fingers spread the cheeks easily and pressed the butter into her virginal rosebud. The grease stuck to fur as much as skin, except right around her hairless anus. Shamada’s ears flattened back against her head as a large, thin, finger slipped inside her.

“No! Not there!,” Shamada’s throaty voice cracked.

He was distracted by the heat of Shamada’s buttery asshole around his finger, smiling widely as he forced a second in, when she twisted side-ways beneath his restraining hand and slashed at his eyes with a clawed hand-paw. She missed, but opened his face beneath with parallel bleeding lines. He snarled like an animal and yanked the fingers from her ass. Jar Jar punched Shamada’s half-turned face hard, two, three, four times. He skinned his knuckles until they bled but felt her jaw and nose fracture beneath the heavy blows. There was a lot of strength in the Gungan’s skinny arm and flexible skeleton. Her paused to listen to her broken toothed sobs, and then smeared his ass-probing fingers across her split lips. He was so aroused he thought he might come before he even got inside her.

The pain in Shamada’s head almost distracted her from the break in her tail. Her knee pain was barely an ache. Her left eye was already swelling shut as she looked through blurry vision at the long-eared monster. She couldn’t find the strength to resist as he reached back to the picnic basket. There was a glint of sun on the blade, and then he rolled her onto her face again. The cool mud stung her wounded face. She drooled blood through swollen lips. Shamada sobbed into the dirt as she felt those large hands on her tail, and then a new terrible pain. Jar Jar had hacked her tail off with a single blow between two vertebrae. Once lithe and flexible, the severed length felt jagged against her wrists as he tore the ligaments and muscle within to bind her wrists.  

“Mesa take you now. Yousa ready for da fuck!”

Jar Jar lapped at the blood from Shamada’s tail stump. He regretted not binding her arms earlier as his clawed face throbbed and dripped. Still, he’d shown her who was boss. He found the last of the butter and lathered it around his shaft. He’d never been so hard, and her slightly-gaped asshole was so inviting he didn’t want to wait any longer. He pressed his cock-head into the tiny hole and thrust hard. Even with the butter it wasn’t easy. She was petite, this female, and he was large. Jar Jar groaned as three inches of his Gungan cock forced past Shamda’s tight Khajiit sphincter. He used one hand on his cock, the other on the back of her head. Then he sank another three inches inside her, enjoying the tightness about his shaft. She was helpless before the cruelty of Jar Jar Binks.

A rude remark, a groping hand… this was the worst Shamada had ever experienced as Hostess of the Three Sisters’ Inn. She’d never been raped, nor faced the even bloodier and more terrible violation of anal rape. Face down in the mud she couldn’t even scream. Blood and snot blocked her smashed nose, and mud her mouth. Her asshole felt like someone had forced a heated wine bottle inside; she was sure it would tear. When the monster forced his final three inches inside her, she thought she would pass out from the pain. She felt his hand push her head harder down into the dirt. Panicked and pained breaths dragged mud into her airway, and she coughed hard in an effort to dislodge it. Shamada struggled against her own severed tail, but the fur-wrapped broken bones bit too tightly into her slim wrists and she couldn’t get even one free. Her asshole burned worse than her face, her lungs, her stump.

Jar Jar’s pleasure was the exact opposite of Shamada’s suffering. He only pulled out three or four inches on each thrust, and enjoyed her tightness against his cock. He didn’t even realise she was choking on mud when she started writhing harder beneath him. He just knew it felt better. He remembered Gungans, years before, who had planned enacting similar things on the Queens of Naboo. Jar Jar had been shocked at the time, had reported them. Now, though, raping the furry creature beneath him gave him a mental image of various past Queens impaled on his cock, assholes, mouths and pussies violated by his raping shaft. In his hyper-aroused and destructively intoxicated state, wrapped in the Khajiit’s broken-open asshole, it didn’t take long for his climax.

Shamada’s facial skin was dark blue-purple beneath the fur. Her writhing had lessened to twitching as oxygen starvation destroyed her brain. She heard the creature’s cry of excitement over the roaring in her ears, and felt the sudden high pressure spurts deep inside her raw rectum. She shuddered a final time at the last new pain when he bit one of the pointed ears from her head. Shamada finally died face down in the muck beside the water with her skirt bunched around her waist and a Gungan cock in her asshole. As her muscles slackened, urine flowed out into the mud at her crotch, stinking as only Khajiit piss can stink.

The incredible natual high of a Gungan orgasm wiped out the effects of the Daedric incense. Jar Jar Binks came fully aware again with a furry-flap of ear in his mouth, and a dead, mutilated, Khajiit wrapped around his heavily spurting cock. He was so deep inside her ass, that even with some softening post-climax it took a hard tug to get his bloody shit-smeared length loose from the woman’s rectum. The last squirts stained the fur of her thighs, and the woman’s bunched up skirt. Jar Jar jumped to his feet open mouthed. Shamda’s ear fell from his teeth to land in the filth-smeared sperm bubbling between her buttocks. He clasped his fingers to his own damaged face and shook his head in horrified revulsion at the corpse before him, and the other three nearby.

He didn’t know where he was, and he didn’t know why he’d done such a terrible thing.

He did know how to flee.

Jar Jar Binks dived into the water and swam as fast as he could upstream, trailing blood and shit behind him from his wilted cock.

Shamada’s death was officially blamed on the Daedroth. Her elder sister Shuvari didn’t buy it; there were footprints in the mud that didn’t match either Daedra corpse, or Cat-Face’s. The Khajiit innkeeper hired an adventurous Orc, Moz Gra-Bura, to investigate. Shuvari promised the muscular barbarian free room and board for life at the Three Sisters’ Inn if she could get to the truth.

That’s a story for another time.


End.
Citation: “Meesa horny,” Dialogue taken from Full Metal Jacket. Kind've.
Citation: “How wude!” "do terrible tings" “Boom!” Dialogue taken from The Phantom menace.
Citation: “died face down in the muck” is from The Big Lebowski.

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