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Skyrim: Plaything	By : GE_The_Beast Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 21445 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This story is made for fun, profit and entertainment. In no way do I own anything discussed. I do not own Skyrim or The Elder Scrolls fandom in any way, nor do I intend any profit from this story.

Chapter List
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Elayne’s hands curled around the crystal and ebonite. It felt cool, but not frozen. The surface had ridges, and felt smooth in a way that only hours spent polishing would ever cause. It looked large, even with both hands holding it. Her cheeks heated, and she pursed her lips together. “Okay, now what.” Her words ran through the room, not calming her at all. She had no experience besides what her aunt had told her, and the one time Lydia showed her how to give a blowjob. “Eola said she rode you all night. But you’re just..” A stick. Her nickname for the other Dragonborn.
Elayne could feel heat pooling in her body, her bare nipples tingling. The maid dress was tight, so very tight across her stomach. The belt locking it to her ran above her navel, and the gem hanging from it. Her tiny breasts did nothing to hide her body or complement it. Thick strands of blue-purple hair fell past them, tickling the exposed skin. Looking past her curves, she could see the moonstone bands on her thighs glittering in the moonlight. The ever present feeling of the iron band around her neck brought a weight. And there, sitting in her hands was the large object. “I’m calling you Stick.” She declared to the room, shakily. She felt embarrassed, as if she had just named an imaginary friend. It looked very large even being held.
Looking down at her thighs, she squeezed them together. The moonstone touched, clicking softly. Could that really fit inside of her? “Try what you know first.” Licking her lips, she lifted Stick and held it against them. Her tongue followed Lydia’s instructions from weeks ago, and pressed against the bottom of the tip. It felt heady and powerful, and yet she felt heat flush deeper. As soon as her lips touched it, the ebonite came to life. It spun, the ridges and grooves gently pulling the entire object forward and out of her hands, pushing deeper into her mouth. She gasped, lips leaving the Stick. It stopped moving the moment her lips left it. “It moves!” She held it up, trying to track the different grooves of ebonite and how they moved. It didn’t seem possible, but then Eola’s words came back to her mind. “She rode it. It moves on its own.”
It all made sense! Well, at least the book and Eola. Looking down, she could feel as much as see how hard her nipples were. Past them, and the dress tightly gripping her stomach. The pile of fluffy skirts were all that stood between her and the Stick. Feeling heady, she raised the skirts with her left hand, her right bringing the large ebonite and crystal object underneath the layers of white underskirt. Her legs were spread out, but even so she could only go by feel for where the Stick was. Nibbling her lip, she clenched her thighs together, and apparently that was enough contact for the object to activate. It moved, almost completely on its own by using the tightness of her thighs as traction.
The Stick found her apex immediately, and she clenched her thighs together as hard as she could. It was too much, too fast! Yet all that did was pull control right out of her right hand, and the crystal moved on its own past the view provided by the skirts. Elayne’s body lit up with feeling, as the crystal pushed past all of her tensed muscles to begin sliding inside of her, the feeling greater than anything she had ever experienced. She slumped onto the bed, legs flailing and arms gripping the skirts. Heaving, it felt like her entire being was being split in half, as the Stick moved inexorably forward. She felt her body stretching, until it felt like there was no more room for it to go!
Gasping, Elayne brought a hand down to remove it. But the damned thing starting shuddering like a caught animal, vibrating her entire body. “Ohh.” She rolled, not able to escape it. “My!” Her hands couldn’t grab it, the damned fluffy skirt just interfering with her fingers! It was hard to think, to coordinate her digits. All that she felt trying to reach between her legs was layer after layer of underskirt. A feeling was building beyond her ability to control. Like a lightning bolt, every part of her body had come alive and was drowned out by the feeling of the Stick. It got to be too much! She tried to scream, to yell or do something! Her scream was some combination of grunts and moans, but all that came out was a combination of the words Fuck and Yes. It became more than that, a scream that became more of a dragon shout.
The wall in front of her face shuddered, her entire body releasing all of its energy in one go. Her vision swam, and Elayne passed out, seeing brick and stone damaged by the scream. When she finally awoke, she was shivering. The wall had been damaged, and she perked her head up to see that a few bricks and stones had fallen out, letting in a mighty draft. And resting in her hands was Stick, the crystal taking on new meaning for her. She didn’t know how long it had been, but she was cold. Her legs felt like jelly as she moved back into the main room, the Stick being placed in the deepest part of her bag. She might be keeping that. By the Divines, she was keeping that. Her body still tingled in odd places as she walked over to the pot, and checked on the broth. There were still chunks of bones in it, but they were few and far between. Standing next to the coals, she lifted her skirts in back and warmed herself.
Using a spoon, she fished out all of the bones that hadn’t broken down yet, and tossed in some garlic and salt. She didn’t know how long she had knocked herself out, but it was still dark. She had time. As she moved, it felt like her skirts were tickling her ass differently. Or maybe she was just feeling some kind of afterglow. She felt more tender and on edge. But now she had a bone broth. Using a set of gloves, she carried the pot down the stairs to the basement. She really was getting better with her heels, not at all having trouble carrying the heavy object. The Dremora was still sitting at the table beneath the shrine of Namira, its face lighting up with interest as she approached.
“I’ve prepared a meal.” She glared. “What now?”
The Dremora grinned, but it was the voice of its prince that spoke. “You will partake of your meal, once you are properly seated. Perhaps a reminder of your life here may assist you, mortal. Spill any of your meal upon my altar, and I shall curse you for it.” The Dremora laughed, taking up the only chair at the table. It was then that she noticed that its armor looked different. It had removed its fauld! It’s cock was standing upright, blue and almost blending into its armor. Before it was set a bowl, not very deep. Shuddering, Elayne realized that she had never pulled her dress back up! She was bare chested in front of these daedra!
Gems swinging, she mustered as much dignity as she could and brought the pot to the table, taking a ladle and pouring in into the bowl. The broth was off in color, and looked wrong. Her stomach was churning already, at the thought of eating a dead man. Gods, it was easier to stomach anything else. The entire room seemed silent, but for the sound of her shoes and the bubbling of the pot. Elayne took deep breaths, just thinking.
The bowl was right next to the desiccated body of Madanach. A sick reminder of what she was doing, perhaps. Angrily, she walked to the only seat in the room, where she would debase herself for this Daedra. But she needed Lydia back. Groaning, she lifted her skirt and brought herself over the daedra’s lap. It grabbed her rudely, pulling her down onto itself. She wasn’t expecting it, and growled. Twisting, she glared at its sneering face. “Fo!” She yelled, her frost breath unavoidable at this range. It’s head and shoulders froze, and she yelled, anger rising from nowhere. The humiliation of this performance had just been the force to drive her over the knife edge. Her hands grasped for anything to help, as the Dremora was groaning, simultaneously inside of her and trying to free itself. The only thing in range was a familiar handle. “Fuck it.” She growled, swinging the daedric dagger and cutting into the Dremora’s neck. Twice it took, before the ice cracked and it was summoned back to oblivion. She fell to the chair, the stone still warm from the Dremora that had just been filling it.
Then, she glared back at the statue of Namira. Politely, she put the dagger back and pulled her skirt back down. Then, closing her eyes she drank the entire bowl of soup. Her stomach roiled, and she had to keep herself from retching. “There! I thank you, Namira!” She said, meaning none of it. “Return my housecarl!”
“A pleasant performance, Dragonborn. I expect you to keep your word in your world. My worshippers are not to be harmed, unless you wish my ire. I return what belongs to you, now.” A portal to Oblivion appeared, and Lydia came rolling out of it, two blades in hand and screaming, swiping at anything. Elayne shuddered, sighing in relief. She was sore in places she wasn’t used to, and smiled to see her friend.
“Lydia! You’re back!”
The Nord heaved a breath, spitting blood. “My thane. Let’s.. talk upstairs.” She was still shaky on her shoes, and Elayne could see blisters on the exposed skin. “Away from this.”
They both glared at the dagger, and shut the basement door. There was a collective agreement that they wouldn’t be taking anything else from there. “Are you okay?” She asked, letting Lydia lean on her.
“I’ve been better.” The Nord admitted. “But I knew you would succeed.”
“It took a while. I’m sorry, she had me eat some of the corpse.”
Lydia almost threw up right there. “I need to sit down.” And stare at the floor, breathing carefully. Elayne spent most of her magicka healing her, until the wounds and cuts were closed. “We should leave this place.”
“I, uh, might have been working on that too.” Elayne grinned. “The wall is almost broken through.”
“Great!” Lydia grinned. “We can be out of this gods forsaken place immediately!”
“I haven’t found any lockpicks or ways to get these off of us.” Elayne tapped the floor with one of the heels. “I hope you don’t mind hiking in these.”
“The farther we are from Hendraheim, the better off I will be.” Lydia stated. Both women could see the glimmers of dawn through the gaps in the wall. “This is good work, my thane. Your weapon is going to need sharpening. This stone is hard, and I’ve already chipped my warhammer.” The Nord shoved her shoulder into the stonework, some pebbles falling free. “Well? Let’s get out of here, and get to everything your aunt told us. I’m going to be slow on these stilt shoes.”
As the dawn rose, she and Lydia were escaping Hendraheim, their bags full of anything that could carry. Along with some of the bloodied Forsworn gear that would prove to her Aunt what happened to them. But there would be a way to save her people. Madanach had a daughter, which meant the line could continue. Of course, that daughter was a cannibalistic murdering daedric cultist. She would fit in perfectly, if they could just talk to her. Elayne clenched the fluttery maid dress as she walked, vowing in her heart to at least try.
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Skyrim: Plaything