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The Forsworn Retribution	By : Samson Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 60892 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
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Forsaken

The Forsworn Retribution
Part II - "Knaves"
By: Jesse Racine AKA Samson
Original Date Written: January 22, 2014

Maximus may have let the Dunmer wake up peacefully the day before, but he didn’t intend to show her the same mercy twice. Today wouldn’t be an easy day for her, he quickly decided. She had done nothing but pout and complain the day before, and if she was going to get seditious, he’d have to correct her attitude. It was a cool Skyrim morning in the Reach, but like any hot-blooded young man, he nonetheless woke up with a gentle nudge from Dibella, straining his pants. He grinned as he thought of a convenient way to warm up...For both himself and his pet dagger-ears. She was sleeping so soundly, probably dreaming about emptying out someone’s coffers, giggling as she counted the coins...It was time to smash that fantasy.

He could stand to lose his fauld, but he couldn’t imagine taking off his undergarments, as well. It was still a little too chilly, for that. Quietly, he crept towards the slumbering Dunmer, painfully stiff loins almost casting a shadow across her. Ready or not, here he came, aiming to give a slutty little pickpocket her morning meal. What good little Dunmer girl didn’t love waking up to a heavy dose of cream? None too carefully, Maximus got over her, getting on his knees as he mounted the sleeping elf. She mumbled in her dreams, no doubt already able to smell his musk as his loins came closer and closer to her face. Grinning evilly, Maximus took her by the jaw, gently shaking her head. Half-awake, she mumbled softly in confusion, trying to brush his hand away. He responded by giving her a light smack to the cheek, chuckling darkly. That woke her up.

Her bleary eyes snapped open. She needed a moment to get her bearings, looking up at him angrily. When she noticed his member jutting towards her defenceless face, all anger was drained from her eyes. The Dunmer knew she should’ve bitten her tongue before she got her mouth in trouble, but then she remembered that her mouth was plenty troubled even when she didn’t mouth off. Maximus, grinning widely, muttered out “Shhh...Don’t wanna wake up Lana, do we? I didn’t get to call in any of my favours, yesterday...Explains your moping, huh? We’ll make up for that, today. Today’s gonna be a big day for you, heh heh.” The Dunmer swallowed some excess saliva, blinking nervously. Her breathing slowly started to deepen. Timidly, she mumbled out “But...You and Lana...” Maximus raised an eyebrow. Holding back a chortle, he said “What about her? You know, for someone who apparently isn’t prone to jealousy, you sure do bring her up, a lot. Speaking of bringing things up, I’ve got your breakfast all ready to go, you’ve just gotta work for it...Open up, dagger-ears.” The Dunmer’s face started to flush. Her eyes glazed. She looked away from the man-meat an inch from her face, trying to ignore him, feebly trying to will him away. Her eyes slowly trailed back over, after a few moments. She already knew he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. Obediently, she opened her mouth, slowly sticking out her tongue. Maximus was quick to act on the submissive invitation.

Svetlana’s brow twitched downwards, a very gentle sigh drifting from her. Drifting out from the fog of sleep, the first things she could notice were rather odd sounds. Some sort of wet squelching sound was audible, rising up in a steady rhythm as if something moist were being pumped. Of course, that immediately got Svetlana’s imagination running rampant, and she immediately came to a dozen different perverse conclusions. A lewd smile started growing on her face, but when she heard the gentle little whimper, followed by the faint shushing, her face started to flush. Whatever this was, it involved more than a single person. Whatever this was, it suddenly became a whole lot more juicy, to her. Her breath escalating, she carefully stole a glance over her shoulder, looking over in the sound’s direction. Her eyes went wide, and her jaw dropped wide open. She nearly burst out laughing, but just barely managed to stifle her sniggering. This was a morning she’d not soon forget. How often was it that a Nord was treated to the rather satisfying sight of a Dunmer getting face-fucked like a debased slut? She almost wanted to point and laugh, really hammer home to the elf that she wasn’t so superior. But, then her eyes started to wander...

Maximus, and certainly not the Dunmer, could not see that Svetlana was watching. Svetlana watched Maximus keep his eyes closed, pumping his hips fairly gently as he stuffed the Dunmer’s mouth. The Dunmer’s face was dark, but whether she was humiliated or getting off on it all, Svetlana couldn’t tell. Judging by the way the Dunmer was crossing her legs and squeezing them tight together, she was either terrified of feeling something and was trying to stop it before it even began, or was already dampening her panties like a little harlot. Svetlana grinned from ear to ear, her face getting a bit more red. She turned her head back, looking away. As much as she loved the sight of Maximus putting the annoying gray skin in her place, she didn’t want to disturb them before they could get to the big finish.

Maybe once the Dunmer was being treated to a mouthful of Imperial spunk, and was knee-deep in the dilemma of spitting or swallowing, Svetlana would ask her what pride tasted like. The mental image almost made her snort, but the tingles rushing through her made it easy to suppress the bubbling laughter. Slowly, Svetlana started pulling up the bottom of her robe, nibbling on her bottom lip all the while. Maximus wasn’t the only one who needed some morning refreshment, and neither was the Dunmer the only one wetting herself. Svetlana slipped a hand into her panties, closing her eyes and exhaling at the sensation. She didn’t need to watch them to know what they were up to, all she needed was the sounds and her own vivid imagination...

Maximus, grinning, looked down at the Dunmer, watching her catch inhales and exhales between each of his throat-poking thrusts. He was being remarkably gentle with her, for the time being. He was giving her a little grace period, a little bit of mercy before cranking things up. He had two reasons for not immediately going all-out on the Dunmer: he wanted to get the elf’s guard down before really taking her, and he wanted Svetlana to get lost in her own playtime. Oh, yes, he knew all about her shameful behaviour, contrary to her unshakeable self-confidence. She wasn’t so stealthy as to avoid detection, completely. The funny thing was, if she hadn’t taken it upon herself to jill off like a horny little girl, he probably never would’ve figured out that she was awake. She was right in believing that he hadn’t seen the glance she had given the two, but Maximus had noticed her robe steadily rising up in his peripheral vision.

Kind of hard to explain away pulling your robe up to your groin, without admitting the obvious. Surprisingly, he actually enjoyed the fact that she was listening, but not because he derived some sort of exhibitionistic thrill. No, it was far simpler than that. He enjoyed it purely because he knew that, afterwards, Svetlana wouldn’t be able to lay eyes on the Dunmer without snickering. Svetlana was in on his fun, now, and soon, she might even approve enough to join in. Just the thought made him chuckle. But, he was getting ahead of himself. Amusing coincidence, considering he was getting a bit of head from his pet elf. He chuckled again, earning a confused glance from the Dunmer. He needed to focus on feeding her an ambrosial breakfast of meat and milk, and if he wasn’t mistaken, it was about time he picked up the pace.

Maximus quickly began intensifying his thrusts, humping into the Dunmer’s face as he started giving her throat a fine howdy-do. His sudden increase in force made one of her eyes widen, the other narrowing amusingly as she fought to keep her throat relaxed. Her eyes watered as she struggled against her gag reflex, raising her hands to grab at Maximus’ calves, wordlessly imploring him to return to his gentler approach. Maximus had none of it. Today would be a busy day for the Dunmer, indeed. He already knew he’d be keeping her antsy, all day, so he saw no need to drag things out. He picked up his pace even further, chortling lightly as he looked down at the Dunmer’s face. Sweat was already glistening on her forehead, her eyes practically crossing when the Imperial’s breathing picked up. She knew what that meant. All aboard for Jism Town, front-row seats exclusive to Dunmer pickpockets! Maximus let out a quiet grunt, grinning to himself as he dumped quite the excited load against the back of the Dunmer’s throat. She shut her eyes as the heat started filling the back of her mouth, panting through her nose as Maximus withdrew. Maximus sighed contentedly, trying not to shudder as he continued spurting. What kind of face would the Dunmer make, he wondered, if she knew she was washing off a rod that had, just the night before, been lodged deep up a vampire’s backside? Did he taste any different, to her? He very nearly asked her, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to find the words without breaking down into laughter. As it was, he was already snickering, smirking as coated her teeth and tongue in his batter.

The Dunmer, breathing hard through her nose, kept her lips taut around his tip, waiting for him to finish. She slowly opened her eyes, staring sightlessly at his pubic hair as the hot, gooey slop collected in her mouth. Quite the virile Imperial, wasn’t he? He hadn’t called in one of his favours for a single day, and this was what he could build up? Well, at least he had only made use of her throat. There were worse places he could’ve unleashed such a torrent. She shuddered at the thought of what he could muster up, after a few days...Not that he was likely to extend such a mercy. Without thinking, she pressed her thighs a little harder together, trying to crush her burning nether regions. He pulled his hips back with a sigh, making her lips drag along his tip as he withdrew, leaving his saliva-drenched rod exposed to the cool air. She looked upwards as he crawled backwards, his grinning face quickly coming into view over her. Casually, he ordered “Swish it. Get a proper taste.” The Dunmer rapidly blinked twice, slowly beginning to comply.

The slight bulge in her cheeks shifted from one side to the other, filling out one cheek a little more before switching to the other. Maximus heard Svetlana stifle a little groan, sighing almost imperceptibly. A tiny wet sound was proof enough of how close to bliss Dibella’s little fiend was, only causing Maximus’ grin to grow. How could he push her over the edge, he wondered? She needed some more inequity, some final bit of delicious voyeurism before she would be satisfied. Maximus narrowed his eyes at the Dunmer, smiling widely. Loudly enough for Svetlana to hear clearly, he said “Now...Swallow it. All of it.” The Dunmer let out a deep, sharp sigh. Her face went ebony. Her legs began to tremble against one another. She stubbornly shook her head, clinging desperately at some shred of pride. If he wasn’t going to force her, if she had even the slightest say in the matter, she should refuse, right? He’d have to plug her nose, damn it!

Maximus started to grin at her. He reached behind himself with both hands, grabbing her knees. It didn’t take a whole lot of effort to pry her legs open. Her eyes momentarily widened before narrowing to resigned slits. Maximus didn’t even have to continue, his brow sinking as an arm remained prepared behind him. She knew what he’d do if she didn’t obey, and in her current state, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to handle any sort of physical contact. Swat or no swat, a single touch could push her into a rather humiliating, and wet, situation. Some moisture collected at the corners of her eyes. In one big gulp, she swallowed down his entire batch, her body momentarily tensing up as she got down all of the ichor. An amusing lump appeared in her throat, quickly dropping downwards, shooting Maximus’ hot seed down into her elven belly. She opened her mouth shortly after, giving him proof of her submission. If he was to spare her a little slap to the boiling quim, she wanted to feel like she had earned it, wanted him to know that she had earned it. Maximus grinned, shifting his arm away from behind himself. Maybe he wouldn’t spank her pussy now, but he knew exactly how to get to her, now. Yet another tool of coercion had been added to his repertoire.

He reached over to her face, briefly clearing some of her bangs from her sweat-dampened forehead. “How’s it taste, dagger-ears?” The Dunmer’s face flushed a fresh ebony. Did he really have to call her that, so often? Her legs slowly closed tight, again. Softly, she told him what she assumed he’d want to hear. “R-Really good...I loved it. I could...Drink it every day.” Maximus heard Svetlana whimper in her throat, subtly tensing up. He grinned. The Dunmer’s admission had been just the thing to push her over the edge, it seemed. Maximus chuckled lightly, beginning to crawl forwards, again. Quietly, he said “Well, I think we’ve still got a few minutes before Svetlana wakes up...I think I’ve still got a few drops, inside, too. Suck them out, would you?” The Dunmer’s eyes went off to the side, falling half-closed. She waited a few moments, then opened her mouth, raised her head, and re-wrapped her lips around his end.

Without looking at him, she started suckling, her cheeks rhythmically hollowing with every drag. Maximus chuckled to himself, watching her dutifully get every last drop. Even when it was clear that he was finished, she continued to suckle for a few moments, perhaps to ensure that the favour was completely and totally finished. Last thing she wanted was for him to pull out and leak a few more streams on her face, right? Would’ve been pretty hard to convince Svetlana that she had gone to bed with a beauty mask on, at least. Finally, the Dunmer slid her lips back with a wet slurping sound, gently swallowing as she let him go free. Maximus leaned over just slightly, forcing her to look up into his eyes. Smiling from ear to ear, he nonchalantly said “And I didn’t even have to tell you to swallow. Still gonna deny that you’re getting used to this?”

The Dunmer’s brow gently furrowed. She looked away, again. She gave a few rapid shakes with her head, saying nothing. Maximus raised his eyebrows, quickly starting to rise. Knowingly, he said “Good, I’m glad! Honesty’s the best policy, or so they say. You keep being honest with yourself about liking this, and it’ll stop seeming so bad. We might need to move on to bigger things, though...Can’t let you get complacent, now, can we?” The Dunmer’s eyes widened, darting over to him. Quickly sitting up, she stammered out “N-No, that’s not what I meant! I meant that I’m not used to it! I shook my head no!” Maximus grinned more, starting to pull on his fauld. Ominously, he said “In that case, even better. It’ll be old hat, soon enough. You’re gonna be a busy little elf, today.” The Dunmer blinked, mumbling out “W-What do you mean?”

Maximus narrowed an eye at her, raising an eyebrow. The Dunmer feebly groaned, falling back against the ground. Maximus chuckled darkly, walking over to Svetlana. She had barely slipped her robe back down by the time he gave her a nudge with a foot, ordering her to wake up. Svetlana feigned sleep for several moments, then mumbled sleepily for a few more minutes of sleep. Maximus smiled at her poor act, repeating his order. It was time to get moving, he said. The bandits wouldn’t all fall over their own swords if the trio wasn’t there to push them, after all. Once the Dunmer’s stomach had settled and Svetlana had stopped playing around, the trio picked up and took off, resuming their march towards the southeast. A smirk was permanently transfixed to Maximus’ face for the first mile or so, the young man periodically tossing glances towards his pet dark elf. The first few times she noticed his looks, she felt confused. Once she noticed the lecherous sheen to his eyes, however, her face flushed with colour. Just what was he thinking? What ideas was he getting for his favours now, she wondered? It wasn’t long before the answer became glaringly obvious.

Every few kilometers, Maximus would call for a break, and every time he did, he’d find some excuse to be alone with the Dunmer. Whether he was sending Svetlana off on some contrived errand, or heading off on his own with the Dunmer in tow, he’d always find the time to get her down on her knees for another “snack”. It was a mixed blessing, the Dunmer decided. It was only more of the same, albeit a lot more of the same. On top of that, however, he was starting to make a worrisome habit of patting her nether regions, perhaps to gauge her dampness. Every time he did, he chuckled sadistically, and every time he laughed, she squirmed in humiliation. She only started to realize her constant state of arousal by the third break in the march. That was when Maximus’ unsettling plan finally clicked into place. She had thought it coincidence, at first, but it quickly became apparent to her that Maximus was actually going out of his way to keep her aroused.

Every time he gave her another helping of cream to help wash down his pork, he’d give her a few touches, a couple of fondles, and indirectly helped her along to the orgasm that she had been fighting off ever since that morning...But before she could go over the edge, he knew just when to back off and leave her panting. She could barely concentrate on the march whenever she was allowed on her feet, thanks to the drooling, burning mess between her thighs. Maximus never gave her enough time to cool off before he was calling for another break, calling in yet another favour. How many favours had that been, by now? The Dunmer couldn’t recall the number. No matter. Maximus was surely keeping count...Which probably wasn’t for the best, come to think of it.

The hours ticked by. Maximus had given the Dunmer so many meals of his heady stew that she had literally drained him, the Imperial eventually leaving naught but faint trickles on the elf’s tongue. Amusingly, when it came time to eat actual meals throughout the day, the Dunmer claimed she wasn’t very hungry. Svetlana couldn’t understand why that always made Maximus break out into laughter, nor could she understand why the Dunmer seemed so fidgety and shamefaced. As Svetlana finished her dinner, Maximus unfolded his map, taking a look at the trio’s positioning in relation to their target. The Dunmer watched him with foggy eyes, slowly taking in agitated breaths through her nose. With one knee near his chest, the other leg stretched out, he held the map near his chest, looking down at it with a relaxed look on his face. Nothing bothered him, did it? The Dunmer could only wish she felt as at ease as he did. Why was he doing this to her? Why keep her in this state? What trick was he trying to pull, now? Without even thinking it, the Dunmer blurted the question out, still staring at him all the while. Svetlana went still, looking up from her bowl of potatoes, leeks, and gravy. Her fork still stuck between her lips, she glanced left and right, looking from Imperial to Dunmer. Maximus simply smiled. Without even looking away from his map, he asked “Doing what to you?”

The Dunmer couldn’t bring herself to answer. She glanced at Svetlana, then looked back over to Maximus. Maximus finally looked at her, his smile growing wider. Narrowing his eyes at her, he repeated himself. “Doing what to you?” The Dunmer swallowed some excess saliva, her eyes drifting off to the side. She quickly realized that she couldn’t actually continue that line of questioning. Admitting that he was getting to her was like giving him a small victory, an admittance that he was winning. Above all else, she couldn’t let him win. Quietly, she mumbled out “...N-Nothing. Forget about it.” Maximus grinned smugly, then looked back at his map. Svetlana slowly resumed eating, arching an eyebrow at the two of them. The Dunmer sighed inwardly, briefly closing her eyes. That had been a close call. Last thing she needed was a prejudiced Nord getting in on the act, too. Gods only knew what the two of them would do to her. The Dunmer felt a droplet of sweat roll down the side of her face, spurred by the inferno down below. Whatever Maximus was trying to do, she knew this couldn’t go on forever. As it was, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could last...

“...It’s about time you got here. We’ve been kicking around here for hours.” Sabrina’s brow furrowed at Maximus’ tone. Curtly, she snipped out “Yes, well, you three went pretty far out of my usual haunts. You’re not an easy man to find, you know.” Maximus smiled darkly. The vampire was wearing a new pair of spectacles, the thin black frames and equally thin lenses looking rather stylish, on her. The unobtrusive glasses must’ve cost a fortune, on top of the hefty price already associated with spectacles. Just how much gold did this vampire have, stashed away? To go with her black shirt, she was now also wearing a black skirt, along with a matching pair of thigh-high stockings. The sight only made Maximus chuckle. Complain as she may, she was Sabrina now, slutty vampiric pet to Maximus. Wearing the clothes he had demanded was simply an indirect acceptance of her new role. Sabrina tried walking past him, passively attempting to avoid further confrontation. Maximus didn’t allow her such a display. Grabbing her arm, he halted her march, pulling her close until she twisted around to face him. Staring into her eyes, he coldly said “Quit that attitude, fang-face. I told you we’d be going ahead of you.” Sabrina’s lower lip pouted indignantly. She glanced over her shoulder, making sure Svetlana and the Dunmer were fast asleep. Looking back at Maximus, she muttered under her breath, her brow sinking deep.

“Listen...You made me bleed, all right? You were too rough with me. There, I said it. I may be a vampire, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get hurt. I’ve been walking funny ever since last night, you think I’m gonna be happy?” Maximus grinned in amusement, which only worsened Sabrina’s sulking. That was the reason she was so upset? He had to admit, he had spotted her little limp, but he didn’t think it was bad enough for her to get standoffish. Before she could say anything else, Maximus let go of her arm, flatly saying “Then in that case, we’ll use some lubricant, next time. Some kind of lotion should keep you from bellyaching. You’ll love it, it’ll feel nice and slippery. If you thought you had cum hard before, well...Heh heh heh.” Sabrina’s face slowly started to sizzle red. She merely turned away from him without a response, walking off towards the others. He could swear there was a new spring in her step, an excited swing in her hips. She loudly demanded that Svetlana and the Dunmer awaken, that she was ready to hunt some bandits. Svetlana and the Dunmer both groaned into wakefulness, and soon, the four of them were marching the final kilometer.

“Can you see anything? I can’t make anything out, in this darkness.” Svetlana muttered, glancing at Sabrina. Sabrina nodded, her eyes slowly shifting around the camp. The four of them, lying low over a hill, were within a stone’s throw of the bandit camp. The bandit’s had a campfire going, but it was too low to illuminate the campsite. Aside from the silhouettes of tents and a few quivering shadows, nothing could be made out. Sabrina, however, could more easily make out the camp with her predatory vision. Softly, she said “I count ten of them. They’re sitting around, eating, drinking...Probably getting ready to pass out. And...” Sabrina trailed off, her eyes subtly widening. Maximus grinned, stealthily reaching over, slipping his hand up the inside of Sabrina’s left thigh. Quite the soft stocking, Maximus thought. She certainly knew how to pick them, for someone who was so convinced she lacked a drop of femininity.

Sabrina cleared her throat, then continued. “I don’t think they’re very well-armed. I only see a single person in actual iron armour...The rest are in leather or fur. I suppose the one in iron must be the leader...I’ll be able to take care of him. Wait, wait a second...I see two more. They’re coming out from inside a tent.” Maximus smiled more, slipping his hand up under Sabrina’s skirt, giving her massive rump a firm grope. Knowingly, he said “Go on.” Sabrina swallowed subtly at his touch. The concentration in her eyes wavered. Her voice momentarily quivering, she tried not to warble as she said “Th-They’re bringing another guy over...They’re pointing into the tent. Now they’re laughing...Now, all three of them are going in. That’s rather unusual...Maybe they’ve got some sort of prisoner, in there?”

Svetlana raised her eyebrows, urgently saying “A prisoner? Mara’s mercy, we can’t just leave them in there! Who knows what the bandits are doing to them? We need to go, now!” The Dunmer, with surprising coolness, put a hand over Svetlana’s back to prevent her from rising. Calmly, she said “Wait, don’t go rushing in. We still don’t have a plan.” Maximus nodded in agreement, adding “We’re outnumbered, we have to play this smart.” Svetlana sighed heavily, grumbling contentiously. Sabrina sighed faintly when Maximus slipped his hand away from her backside. Thankfully, he was starting to focus more on the task at hand. Besides that, however, she was still quite unused to the idea of someone being so fixated on that part of her. Just the thought that someone was paying attention to her now-deflowered cheeks made her feel self-conscious, and more than a little wary. As much as she hated to admit it, as much as she didn’t want it to be true, she had to concede that he was right. At the very least, he had a point. She’d have a pretty hard time convincing anyone that she was still a man. As it was, she’d been a little less confident about it, ever since the night before. Had he been truly serious, or had it just been dirty talk? If it was the latter, well, it had certainly done the trick. She supposed her old master had gotten the last laugh, after all. The less Maximus reminded her of that, the better she’d feel.

Maximus earned the three women’s surprise when he suddenly laid out a plan, apparently coming up with each step as he went. He wanted to rescue the captive, if there really was one; the Dunmer wasn’t sure if she should’ve felt surprised or not at that, but either way, she didn’t openly question Maximus’ motives. She was just glad that the throbbing need in her crotch had been given time to settle down. She still wasn’t sure what he had been playing at, keeping her aroused all day. She couldn’t even take care of her libido, herself, because that’d be as good as admitting that he had been getting to her. And so, she suffered in silence, the old hunger down under immediately resurfacing as she squeezed her thighs together. Her willpower sapped even further as she thought back on the day, on all the times Maximus had used her mouth, using her just like a hot, drooling quim. In a flash, her mental image changed. Now, Maximus wasn’t humping into her face. He was pounding into...A more personal location. How many favours did he have left, again?

“Hey! Dagger-ears!”

His hiss snapped her out of her thoughts, her face slowly simmering into an ebon hue. Looking over, she realized that both Sabrina and Svetlana had left, and Maximus had gotten up on a knee. Looking at her severely, he muttered out “What were you, daydreaming? Don’t pass out on us, now. We can sleep when this is over, we’ve got work to do. Oh, don’t tell me you blanked out on the whole plan, for the love of...” Maximus trailed off, sighing heavily. The Dunmer’s eyes fell to the ground, an unpleasant feeling tingling in her stomach. Trying not to sound ashamed, she rose up to a squat, mumbling out “Just tell me what to do.”

Maximus raised an eyebrow, keeping his arm close to the hill as he pointed at the bandit camp. His tone calming, he said “Sneak down there and find a good position. Sabrina will start the attack with some spells to try and thin their numbers. After she’s hit them with a barrage, you and I will both charge in swinging. Svetlana might try and scare them with lights, but otherwise, she’ll just be watching you and I both with healing spells. Now, get going. Don’t get caught before the attack starts.” The Dunmer nodded. It was a sound plan, the bandits likely wouldn’t be expecting such an overwhelming surprise attack. Maybe, just maybe, if the Dunmer did a good enough job at helping Maximus earn his coin, he’d be gentler the next time he used her like his personal elven sex toy. The thought gave her feet wings.

Harald the Nord bandit took a swig from his bottle of mead, nodding at his Redguard chum as he took a seat by the fire. Pointing at his friend with the bottle still in hand, he asked “So, do you know what they’re doing to her, in there? Do they even have a name?” The Redguard shook his head, sighing irritably. Quietly, he muttered out “Not a damn clue. I’ll tell you what, though, I don’t like having a Forsworn tied up in the camp, but you know how Freki gets. He’s been getting that look in his eye whenever someone brings up the girl.” Harald shook his head in disappointment, taking another quaff from his bottle. “I know, I know. She doesn’t seem as tough as a regular Forsworn, though...She’s barely a woman. By Shor, she was bawling her eyes out when Freki strung her up. You think they’re torturing her?...Just for the fun of it, I suppose?” The Redguard held back a chuckle, briefly smirking. He answered with a flat “More like changing that “barely a woman” thing.”

Harald hardly had time to chuckle before a searing orb of flames smashed into the side of his head, hitting him with such intensity that half of his head was instantly charred. The Redguard needed a moment to comprehend what had just taken place, staring with wide eyes as Harald slumped over in the dirt. The camp quickly descended into utter anarchy. A woman, seemingly made up of fire, came gliding into the camp, mercilessly tossing fireballs from both hands. The ground burned behind her in a thin trail as she moved, the Atronach’s fiery glow lighting up the camp. Maximus quietly charged into the camp, holding his blade at the ready. Svetlana, not far, began tossing orbs of light into and around the camp, hoping to disorient and confuse the uncoordinated bandits. When Sabrina joined her summoned Atronach, she launched spikes of ice from either hand, each spike easily large enough to impale most natural creatures. The Dunmer sprinted up behind the Redguard before he could do anything, quickly reaching around him and slitting his throat with one of her daggers. He collapsed in a gurgling heap, body twisting and writhing as he helplessly bled out.

The bandits, undisciplined as they were, tried mounting a counterattack, but they were woefully disparate in their efforts. Caught off-guard and startled like they were, they didn’t think to band together, leaving each individual bandit at the mercy of two or three people from Maximus’ team. There couldn’t have been a finer example of dividing and conquering. When the leader burst forth from his tent, his two allies at his sides, he found the rest of his crew either slaughtered or fleeing. Outnumbered by a superior force, the two subordinate bandits decided to surrender. While the leader would’ve preferred struggling to the death, the sudden loss of his final two allies took the fight out of him. He had the good sense to drop his sword and hope for mercy, looking from face to face in a bid to find the most reasonable.

He settled on Svetlana as she walked deeper into the camp, recognizing her priestess’ robes. The bandit leader raised an eyebrow, agreeably saying “Well, alright, you got us. It’s pretty clear who the winner is, here. You haven’t killed us yet, though, so I guess you want something. Is that it? We’ve still got some loot stashed away, it’s your’s if you let us go. C’mon, a priestess wouldn’t just let us die, would you?” Maximus’ expression was cool, his tone even more so. He answered for Svetlana, forcing her to remain silent. Giving the bandit leader a nod, he asked “One of my lady friends, here, seems to think that you’ve got a prisoner. That true?”

The bandit leader tried subtly rolling his eyes, failing miserably. In sudden exasperation, he said “I should’ve known somebody’d come for her. Figured we were so far out of Forsworn territory, though, that nobody’d bother. You guys don’t look like Forsworn, though...” Maximus’ eyes slowly lit up. The Dunmer quickly noticed how Maximus became agitated, how his body language tensed up. She glanced at the bandit leader, then back at the Imperial. She arched an eyebrow. Was there something about the Forsworn that struck a nerve, with him? Maximus, staring holes through the bandit leader, gave him a brief nod. He muttered in a low, dangerous tone. “You’ve got a Forsworn in there? How old are they, you figure?” The bandit leader scoffed, muttering out “What does it matter, she-Hrkk!” Maximus dashed forward, cutting the leader off by plunging his sword through the man’s abdomen. Maximus’ sword broke in two almost instantly after piercing through the leader’s breastplate, although the blade still managed to bite deep enough to inflict a mortal wound.

The leader gasped in agony, slowly collapsing face-first into the dirt. The Dunmer wasn’t very concerned with Maximus’ sudden attack, able to see the bandits as vermin and dismiss the concept of fair treatment as a result. Svetlana, on the other hand, seemed a little shaken. Sabrina, whose life revolved around victimizing others, couldn’t have cared less about Maximus’ mercilessness. If anything, it got a rise out of her, seeing the bandit’s blood flow. Maximus threw down his broken-off sword handle, looking at the two remaining bandits. Nodding at one of them, it was clear to them that the fire in his eyes had only been intensified by the execution. If they didn’t cooperate, they were as good as skeever food.

Maximus’ brow sank deep as he flatly said “Now, let’s try to get an answer from someone who isn’t as dumb as an ox. If you value your life, you’ll answer my question without getting cute.” One of the bandits gave him a hasty answer, trying to save his own skin as quickly as possible. “She’s barely a girl, man! S-Sixteen, seventeen, maybe? Not much younger than you, I’d bet!” The Dunmer noticed Maximus’ expression relax, a little. He was still rather tense, but something about the captive’s age had eased his agitation. Sabrina swallowed futilely, fighting a dry throat. Her breath quickening in excitement, she looked at Maximus and blurted out “You told me you were sellswords, that they all had to go. Let me have these two, don’t just let them get away. You promised me, Maximus. You gave your word for my help, remember?” Maximus gave Sabrina a surprisingly angry glare, muttering out “I don’t need to be reminded like a child, I remember what I give my word for.” The two bandits looked Sabrina up and down, not able to recognize the obvious signs of vampirism. Glancing at each other, then at Maximus, one of them hesitantly asked “Eh...Let her have us for what, exactly?”

Maximus quickly grinned, looking back over at the two condemned bandits. Quite genuinely, he said “What do you think, idiots? Sex slaves. Woman like her has some...Interesting needs. I’m sure you’ll love it, though. I mean, c’mon, look at her. Would any price be too high to share a night with her? The alternative’s death, guys. Make up your minds.” Sabrina blinked rapidly in surprise, but didn’t cut into Maximus’ deception. The bandits noticed how Sabrina was getting worked up, and easily mistook her bloodlust for actual lust. Sabrina raised a hand, giving the two bandits a come hither wag with a finger before beginning to back away from the group. She started to smile sadistically as she slipped into the shadows. The bandits, clearly becoming giddy at their apparently wondrous luck, slowly started to follow after the vampire. They glanced at Maximus and his two remaining lady friends, ensuring that they weren’t going to get stabbed in the back as they walked away.

As the two disappeared into the darkness, they grinned to themselves in victory. First, they had been spared a slaughter, and now, they were going to be the naughty little monkeys of a voluptuous beauty from somebody’s wet dream! Which Daedric Prince had they pleased to earn such unbelievable luck? Maximus, the Dunmer, and Svetlana all stood around, listening. There were several seconds of silence, then bloodcurdling screams. The two voices could only scream for a second or two before they were each cut off, likely by fangs tearing out voice boxes. Maximus briefly smirked, quite satisfied with the conclusion to their job. It’d be nice to collect on the money for the bounty, but first, there was the little matter of that Forsworn prisoner...Just what would he do with her, he wondered?

Maximus marched into that tent like a man possessed, eyes darting around in search of his quarry. The Dunmer and Svetlana both followed after him, the both of them just a little concerned. He had wanted to rescue the prisoner, right? That had seemed like a noble goal, at the time. After seeing his response to the prisoner’s identity, however, they were both getting second thoughts. He had already killed one unarmed prisoner, neither of them were particularly keen to see him slay another. The interior of the tent reeked of alcohol and sweat, but the musk of sex was noticeably absent. Evidently, the bandits hadn’t been taking advantage of their prisoner. What could their intentions have possibly been, then? Ill-gotten belongings were scattered about the tent, divided into small piles in a weak attempt at categorization. A pile of hay and furs acted as a makeshift bed, on one side of the tent. And, finally, secured between two metal poles on the far side of the tent, was a Breton woman. Kneeling down with her arms raised at her sides, tied to the poles at the wrists, she initially kept her head hung down in apparent exhaustion. Maximus came to a stop, staring at the prisoner with a slow rage simmering in his eyes. She wasn’t exactly what he was expecting, but she still fit the bill well enough.

Just like the now-dead bandit had claimed, the girl looked even younger than Maximus, barely of age. Like all Bretons, she was fairly short, by human standards. She wasn’t quite as petite as a Bosmer, but she couldn’t have been far off. She, like all free-roaming Forsworn, wore little besides underwear crafted from some animal’s pelt. Besides a fur bra, a matching loincloth, and a pair of fur-lined leather boots, she wore naught but the fair skin she had been born in. Her smooth, brown hair was cut into a plain bob, parted in the middle to come down in soft curtains on either side of her face. Like most Bretons, she had a cute button nose, somewhat upturned to fit the unfortunate stereotype that every Breton possessed a snotty arrogance.

Unlike most Forsworn, who had honed their bodies through the murder of people and hunting of animals, this young woman had a much more relaxed physique. She wasn’t muscular, and while she didn’t exactly possess any jiggly paunch, she certainly didn’t have the defined abs most Forsworn showed off. The more Maximus looked at her, the more he doubted that she was a true Forsworn. For all he knew, she could’ve just been some girl who had fashioned herself a similar outfit. When she looked at him, however, and he saw the true fear in her eyes, he knew she felt guilty over something. She knew she was caught, she knew she was at someone’s mercy, and she knew that nobody would be coming to help her. Worst of all, some part of her knew she deserved it. She was trapped, same as before, the only difference now was a change in captors.

Maximus asked one question, and one question only. “I hear you’re Forsworn. That true?” The young woman’s mouth started to hang open, showing off a rather prominent pair of mousy buckteeth. In a surprisingly timid voice, she simply mumbled out “Y...Yes.” Maximus suddenly lunged towards her, arms outstretched. The Dunmer’s eyes widened, and Svetlana called his name. The Forsworn flinched in fear, but as it turned out, Maximus had no desire to hurt her...In the traditional sense. Instead of grabbing her throat, he swept around her, grabbing her by the hips. Her eyes went wide in confusion as he hefted her up to her feet, pulling her up until she was stuck in a bent-over position, thanks to her bonds. She tried looking over her shoulder at him, unable to muster up the courage to even question his actions. The first image to pop into the Dunmer’s head was one of Maximus, taking the Forsworn from behind like a cheap harlot, grinning wickedly as he made her cry out. For the briefest moment, her stomach fluttered, causing a twinge of shame to darken her face. How could she think like that, at a time like this? It was Maximus’ fault! He’d kept her turned on all day long, she couldn’t help it if that corrupted her thoughts!

The first assumption had been incorrect, and so was the second, as it turned out. Maximus had no intention of impaling the little Forsworn over his rod...At least, not yet. The Breton gasped when Maximus flipped up the back of her loincloth, making her give a little jump. Maximus grinned evilly, narrowing his eyes in sadistic glee. If that’s all it took to make her hop, he couldn’t wait to see how high she’d jump when he gave her backdoor a firm knock or two. Maximus spoke no words, simply wrapping an arm around the Breton’s waist, holding her securely in place. His other arm came up, then flew down with an ear-splitting crack. The Breton tensed up like stone, her eyes bulging, her lips pursed. Her hands clenched into fists as tears started running into her eyes. Just as she sucked in a deep breath, Maximus raised up his arm once more, letting loose a flurry of spanks with all of his might.

The Forsworn gasped a few times, tears starting to run down her cheeks. Barely getting the words out, she cried “W-What’re you doing?! Stop, that really h-hurts! Ow!” Maximus ignored her, pitilessly continuing his rump-pummelling. Every spank struck with a resounding clap, the Breton’s round little bubble butt briefly rippling and swaying with every cruel hit. Svetlana and the Dunmer stood rigid and stared, each with a differing mentality. The Dunmer could see herself in the Breton’s place, bent over and punished by Maximus, sharing in the Breton’s shame. Svetlana, on the other hand, slowly started to grow red-faced and short of breath. Her interest was more openly voyeuristic in nature.

Sabrina slowly walked into the tent’s entrance, looking within. She still had blood splattered around her mouth and chin, but with a scrap of cloth in hand, she was already starting to clean herself up. When she noticed what Maximus was doing, she froze in place. Her mouth hung open, a crack. Steadily, a bulge appeared in the front of her skirt, very rapidly rising up in an extremely noticeable tent. Sabrina panicked, dropped her bloodstained cloth, and reached under her skirt. Without pants, hiding her big secret was no small feat. She eventually settled for tucking it into one of her stockings, letting her lengthy rod finish swelling into full size down the inside of her thigh. Maximus kept spanking the Breton until bright red hand prints were standing out against her skin, making her sob and blubber in pain. Maximus finally spoke, shouting angrily.

“Fucking Forsworn whore! You people took over Markarth, killed tons of people, ruined lives, and now you’re letting yourselves get captured?! What the hell happened to you guys?! I should take you like the slut you are, right here and now! You probably let yourself get captured! That’s the only explanation for why a tough guy Forsworn would get tied up by loser bandits!”

The Breton vigorously shook her head, shutting her eyes tight, her mouth hanging open as she sobbed. Maximus leaned over, a little, to get a look between the Breton’s thighs. Well, what do we have, here? Bit of a masochist, was she? He barely chuckled. He could feel the heat coming from her before he even saw how furiously her reserved little slit was blushing. She was quite the sight, Maximus had to admit. She was shaved completely bare, showing off the puffy, bright red lips already parting to swallow up some manly meat. Most noticeable, however, was her sizeable clit, the fat little buzzer easily over an inch long. Thanks to her positioning, her juices had trickled down over the swollen nub, making it glisten like a big red button. “Maximus?” The Dunmer gently called, hoping he might put an end to his show before it went any further.

Svetlana was almost drooling, her eyes glazed and foggy. Her hands slowly tightened over her thighs, grabbing at the material of her robe. The Breton quickly looked around, and at the realization that the others just might’ve been getting off on her bondage, she sobbed harder in humiliation. Maximus made her suck in a trembling gasp when he suddenly plunged a finger into her valley, splitting her glistening ridge without warning. She whimpered loudly, begging him not to get invasive. She squeezed down on him like a vise, instinctively trying to expel the invader. Maximus grinned and ignored her, expertly getting to work. He curled his finger downwards, found a certain special spot, and started rubbing as hard as he could.

The Breton shut her eyes tight, her breathing ceasing. She pulled hard against her bonds, gritting her teeth tight. She desperately writhed, trying to get away before it could happen. Maximus counted the seconds to the first orgasm, breaking into hysterical laughter when it took exactly seven seconds to force the Forsworn into an explosive climax. When the Forsworn suddenly jerked around and sucked in gasps, rearing up her tail end as her knees started shaking together, Svetlana couldn’t help but leave the tent. Unable to take any more of the lewd display, she simply departed amidst steamy pants, almost putting Sabrina in another panic in the process. Maximus wasn’t quite finished with the Breton, however.

Pulling his digit back out of the Breton’s quim, he aimed a little higher up, and doubled his efforts with a second finger. He lunged his arm forwards, chuckling as the battering ram hit her castle gates. The Breton lurched forwards, her lips pursing. Her eyes widened as Maximus mercilessly dug into her backdoor, using the barest amount of her own nectar to slip his way through her delicate little pucker. The Dunmer’s eyes widened at the sudden violation, tingles quickly fluttering into her stomach. The Breton’s eyes, meanwhile, rolled back just before a violent gush of fluids sprayed from her nether lips, spurting down both behind and beneath her. She was limp before Maximus had even gotten his fingers back out of her, the anger in his eyes barely having subsided. He watched her silently fall back down to her knees, head hanging down in an orgasm coma. Two was the magic number, it seemed. Little Breton couldn’t handle any more than that before it was lights out. Maybe she had a kink for “derriere delight,” too? After all, it certainly hadn’t taken long for her to bring on the gushy waterworks...

A little short of breath, clearly in disbelief, the Dunmer mumbled out “You...You made her pass out...With just your fingers. H-How in...?” Maximus slowly started to walk out of the tent, a surprisingly cold look on his face all the while. There was no grin, no smile, not even a smirk. There was just a cold, bitter callousness in his eyes. Had he even enjoyed what he had just done? When the Dunmer finally noticed, it hit her like a sack of bricks. Had she ever really seen him, like this? What could be eating at him, so much? Sabrina, too, seemed a little shaken by his changed demeanor. Maximus gave them both a glance, then muttered out “Keep an eye on her. We’re not freeing her, just yet. I’ve got some questions for her, but they’ll have to wait until after I’ve gotten some sleep. Sabrina, go hide out somewhere until tomorrow night...And get me that method of contacting you we agreed on, already. You still haven’t given me anything.”

Sabrina nodded, hastily agreeing, although she wasn’t sure if Maximus had even heard her. By the time the words had left her lips, he had already stormed out of the tent. The Dunmer simply looked at Sabrina, waiting for her to glance back. Once she did, they both looked over at the restrained Breton. The Dunmer raised her eyebrows, mumbling out “I’m surprised he didn’t do more...And the way he was upset, after...Do you think he has a history, with the Forsworn?” Sabrina gently shrugged. Giving the Dunmer a glance, every now and then, she said “Maybe, maybe not. Can’t always tell a man’s history so easily. How well do you know him?”

Slowly, the Dunmer said “Not long. I...Met him a few days, ago.” Sabrina nodded, lightly. Raising a hand, she pointed at the Breton. “You know, one thing’s weird, about this girl. Forsworn always have face tattoos. She doesn’t. She’s dressed the part, but she doesn’t have the marks...” The Dunmer blinked, realizing that Sabrina was right. The buck-toothed Breton didn’t have a single blemish on her face, least of all ink. Rather peculiar oddity, for an apparent Forsworn. Maybe she was a secret member, or a very recent one? The Dunmer didn’t have the chance to voice these thoughts. Sabrina eventually stated that she had to get somewhere safe before sunrise, and departed without a glance back. The Dunmer’s eyes started to wander, once she was alone. An avaricious sparkle immediately came into her eyes once they settled over the bandits’ piles of loot. Look at all that sweet booty! She started to grin, probably for the first time since she met Maximus. She started rubbing her hands together, holding back an excited cackle. Time to divvy up the spoils, along with a healthy little bonus heading her way, of course...Nobody needed to know if a few extra coins or trinkets lined her pockets, did they? What’s the worst that could possibly happen?
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The Forsworn Retribution