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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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Timeless, Nevermore (What-If?)

The Forsworn Retribution
Part XI - "Bonus Scenes & What-ifs"
By: Jesse Racine AKA Samson
Original Date Written: February 20, 2017

(This chapter is not a part of The Forsworn Retribution’s storyline. This is purely an extra scene written for fun, allowing me to write a potentially implausible scenario or situation without having to worry too much about properly fitting it into an overall plot. The What-if scenario requested of this chapter is: “What if a twist of fate caused Sabrina to infect Maximus with vampirism? How would the two of them handle such a situation, and what would the end result in their relationship be?” This chapter is the result. :) This chapter contains male-on-trans, anal sex content, and romantic themes. If that sounds like fun to you, please enjoy!)

It had been multiple months since the assault on Sun Eater’s home and hearth, and while it had been but a slow blink in the life of the immortal Sabrina, more than a few noteworthy events had transpired in that window of time. The civil war between the Empire’s Legions and Ulfric’s Stormcloaks had begun, had nearly ended with Ulfric’s execution, and had resumed, all with the unthinkable: the return of the dragons. Just as the civil war appeared to be finished, the first dragon was spotted in ages, razing Helgen to the ground and providing enough confusion for Ulfric to slip away. Ever since then, dragons had rapidly increased in numbers across Skyrim, but that was far from the only alarming development in recent days.
Not only had the Greybeards called out to someone to proclaim them the fabled Dragonborn, but the number of vampires in Skyrim had skyrocketed, all thanks to that shortsighted prophecy Sabrina had tracked to the far northwestern shore, right at the edge of the continent. Thanks to the instigator of this “Tyranny of the Sun” farce, vampires everywhere had become mad beasts, and accordingly, the Dawnguard had been resurrected to deal with them. So far, Sabrina had no reason to be concerned for her personal safety, but all the same, she made sure to be doubly careful during the odd nightly excursion to feed or track down some component for a ritual. Last thing she’d need would be a crossbow bolt in the back, as she was returning home.
As historic as these events were, there was one more, one perhaps even more substantial...Personally, as well as practically. The Dark Brotherhood had been destroyed, some time before. The news had spread that the last known chapter in all of Tamriel had been in humble Falkreath, of all places, and that the Emperor’s personal guard force, the Penitus Oculatus, had led a successful assault that had seen every member slain, right down to a man. Afterward, it eventually became clear that Gabriella was no longer receiving anybody’s missives, nor responding to any from Falkreath. Everyone had put two and two together on their own, but it was Maximus who actually did something about it.
Sabrina had tried multiple times to speak with him about it, but he had always shut her down - sometimes angrily. Still, she couldn’t help but try and reach out. She knew he wasn’t the type to express his affections openly, and neither had Gabby been, really, which may have been why their relationship had turned out the most intimate. Sabrina knew he may not have always shown it, but his feelings for Gabriella had ran deeper than that of anyone else, and although he didn’t show it and refused to talk on it, she knew he had to have been in turmoil, inside. If he hadn’t felt anything over Gabby’s disappearance, he wouldn’t have spent weeks upon weeks tracking down the truth of the matter, nor would he have set off to Solitude to exact vengeance...Only to find that his target had already been slain under mysterious circumstances, some time before.
With that final piece of the puzzle, Maximus had come to face the truth for himself, but there had been nothing he could do about it. There was no revenge to be taken, no retribution to be delivered. All he had was that one final letter from Gabriella, her attempt to offer some kind of goodbye to her lover, as if she had known the end were coming. There had been so many questions he no doubt would’ve wanted to ask her, if he had had one last chance to speak with her. Equally true, he no doubt would’ve said some things he ordinarily wouldn’t bother with. Now, it was all gone...And his refusal to speak on it with anyone and quietly shoulder the burden on his own only had Sabrina perpetually concerned.
It was one thing to not want to display any sort of weakness or vulnerability, but it was another, entirely, to bottle up the loss of a loved one and stoically hide it all inside. If he’d only give her a chance, Sabrina knew she could offer him at least some small comfort. To that end, she arranged for multiple visits with Maximus, and each time, she subtly attempted to bring Gabby up, but she could never fool him. It was hopeless to try, and yet she persisted - she just wanted to show him she cared and help him in his time of grief. If that meant getting caught over and over again and earning his impatience or ire, then so be it. At least he’d know she worried.
Tonight would be yet another attempt in her string of consolation offers, no doubt doomed to suffer the same fruitless outcome. There she sat in her cave den, perched over her regal, throne-like chair, nose down in a grimoire as she awaited her paramour’s arrival. Dressed in one of her usual ensembles, a black long-sleeved shirt combined with a matching black skirt and pair of thigh-high stockings, the exceedingly curvaceous vampire gently sighed through her nose as she adjusted her spectacles over the bridge of her nose, shifting the thin black frames all while her eyes attentively scanned over the words on the page. It was fascinating, these records on dragon speech. To think that their power manifested in mere words, simple utterances that could carry such strength...
Sabrina ran a finger through her bangs, clearing the black, silken locks out of her eyes and behind her ear. She had no desire to pursue a dragon’s power, of course - even assuming she’d be capable of wielding it, which she most likely would not, consider the example set by the Dragon Priests of old, powerful magi seduced into the service of the dragons. No, that was not a path she was interested in walking any more than she’d be interested in being strung along by a Daedric Prince. Knowledge in and of itself was harmless, however, and so academic study was perfectly safe, or so she believed. What mattered was what one did with such knowledge, and if one chose to do nothing, where was the harm?
Still, as intriguing as the concept of power bound to vocalizations was, Sabrina ultimately found herself confronting that which had been distracting her for most of the night. Her brow twitching down in a little furrow, her bloody red eyes shifted to another side of the book-cluttered table as she gave in to the urge, yet again. Reaching out, she delicately grabbed an unfolded piece of parchment from behind a tome, bringing it over with a silent sigh. She laid it over the grimoire before her, her eyes carefully easing from side to side, following Max’s words for perhaps the fifth time that night, alone. The letter had been the last one she had received from him, about a week prior.
In it, he was agreeing to meet up that very night, and although Sabrina had tried to send him a quick warning afterwards, he had never answered. She could only assume he either hadn’t gotten her message, had ignored it, or his response hadn’t yet reached her. Still, it seemed prudent to keep an eye out for him that night, regardless. When she had first arranged for that night’s meeting, the Reach had been relatively clear of Legion activity, but in the time between her initial message and Max’s response, fresh troop movements and supply caravans had began to pass through the territory, and wherever the Legions went, the Thalmor felt doubly bold to skulk about.
Perhaps nothing would come of it, Sabrina had optimistically reassured herself, time and time again. Perhaps his lack of response meant he had gotten the warning and was merely being doubly cautious. Perhaps he could avoid them, just like he always did. She refused to seriously entertain any alternatives, but it wasn’t easy, just sitting at home when he could’ve been out there. What harm would it do, going out and posting up for a watch? She could keep herself invisible with Magicka, keeping the Thalmor and even the Dawnguard from spotting her. She could hush her footsteps, on top of that, and be little more than a spectre. Still...Part of the reason why she had survived for so long was discretion. If her den were ever discovered...
A cold sensation in her gut had her coming to a decision, if only to give herself some peace of mind. Better to look for him than sit in her den and wait for him to arrive. She had wasted enough time, just sitting around. She stood up, walked off to her sleeping area, grabbed her thick, hooded cloak from the foot of her bed, and was already pulling it on by the time she began to make out the noises. Tying the cloak at the collarbones, she idly paused by her reading table, raising her eyebrows as she listened. Could’ve just been an animal, she had first thought. Bears were quite common in the Reach, and could be noisy even when passive. Maybe one had wandered near her cave entrance? It barely took her a couple seconds, however, before she was freezing up, her eyes widening.
Voices. Metal on metal.
She stopped fiddling with the half-fastened clasp and let the cloak fly from her shoulders as she took off in a sprint, racing up the cave exit. The blood, long idle in her veins, nevertheless ran cold. Metal crashing against metal was a horrible sign. Forsworn didn’t typically use fully metallic weaponry, and almost never wore legitimate armour. Whatever fighting was being done, it didn’t involve them, leaving very little in the way of alternative possibilities. Sabrina moved like the wind until she neared her Magicka-sealed cave mouth, casting a quick Mysticism spell upon it to briefly revert the stone wall to an incorporeal state, briefly popping the fabricated yoke between truth and fiction.
While the false stone wall she had created to cover the cave mouth did not disappear to the naked eye, it no longer presented a physical barrier, allowing Sabrina to rush right on through into the dim of night. With her natural night-sight as an undead, the full scene sprawling before her was instantly put on display for her to soak in. Several Altmeri in the traditional gold and burgundy Elven armour lay dead in a sporadic trail, leading down one of the nearby hills into the valley of her den. Among them were a couple Altmeri in very recognizable hooded black robes, crumpled over into unceremonious positions following their death throes.
Standing in the valley, so close to her den that they were but a stone’s throw away from the boulder of the cave mouth, were four figures: three Thalmor soldiers in Elven armour, and Maximus, already so badly wounded and winded that he was barely keeping himself upright. One of his arms hung limply at his side, soaked in blood. He barely had the energy to hold his other arm up, keeping his steel sword up to parry anything that came his way. He was partly slumped over, in no condition for fancy footwork; one good tackle would blow him straight off of his feet and leave him as helpless as a kitten.
Sabrina had no idea when this fight had started or how long the chase had lasted for, but judging by the trail of bodies leading into her valley, Maximus hadn’t made it easy for this particular task force. Although two of the Altmeri still standing appeared unharmed, the third had a nasty laceration torn through both of his cheeks, exposing bloodied teeth and gums. The three of them were already spacing apart to surround Max, glaring furiously at him - Sabrina didn’t waste any time. Without a word, without a noise to announce herself, she brought her hands together and charged a potent application of Thunderbolt, creating intense crackles and arcs of electricity between her fingers.
When she thrust her arms out and fired the spell off, the clap echoed throughout the valley with deafening strength, a flash of light briefly illuminating her body. She hit her mark square in the side of the abdomen, blasting the man clear off of his feet from the force of the lightning bolt, throwing him a full meter to the side before he struck the ground in a roll, the side of his breastplate charred black. One of the Thalmor soldiers looked over in shock, trying to make out the mysterious new assailant in the dark of night. The other one, the one with the wounded face, focused on Max and lunged in, clearly hoping to finish him off before his ally could save him.
He swiped his sword down against the inside-edge of Max’s blade, right down by the hilt. The force was too much for Maximus in his badly wounded state, and the sword was knocked right out of his hand, sent clattering down to the ground by his feet. He tried to stumble back as the soldier hurriedly stepped in, trying to buy himself enough space to grab his sword without opening himself up to a coup de grace, but it was for naught. As the man thrust his sword out, Max pulled an Elven dagger from a sheath at his hip. As the soldier ran Max through the abdomen far enough to plunge the sword clear through his low back, Max responded by throwing his arm around over the man’s shoulder, plunging the dagger right down into the side of his neck.
Although the blood ran free from Max’s center of mass, the burst of blood from a slashed artery was worse, causing red to flow free like a waterfall against the inside of the breastplate’s gorget. Max stumbled and fell backwards, sword and all, and the mortally wounded soldier couldn’t help but do the same, impotently trying to hold the side of his neck. He didn’t seem confused. If anything, he looked grimly satisfied that he had traded the mortal blow for one of his own.
Sabrina almost screamed Max’s name, eyes locked on him as he fell. She was not kind in her dispatching of the remaining soldier. Before he could move in on Max, Sabrina launched an Icy Spear straight for his face. One moment, his head was intact, the next, his body was dropping to the knees, a short, bloody mass between the shoulders. Sabrina’s eyes locked on Max as she raced over, tears already streaming down her cheeks as she babbled “Oh no, no, no. No! Max! Max, say something!”
She dropped to her knees by his left side, eyeing his injuries as she slipped her hand under his head, trying to get his skull off of the cold, hard ground. He looked like the Thalmor had tried tenderizing him for dinner - not one, but two different impalement breaks had torn through his scalemail vest, running him through the abdomen. His sword arm had taken a few slashes, but his free arm was worse off with a bone-deep laceration at the inside of his elbow. Grievous tears lined the unprotected sections of his legs until the trails of blood had ran into his boots, and blood, dry as well as fresh, ran from either corner of his mouth. He could barely even keep his eyes open.
Lips helplessly twisting into a frown, eyes throbbing with tears, her voice began to tighten as Sabrina blubbered out “Oh, Julianos, please! Max, look at me!” His eyelids flickered, and although the bumps of his irises shifted about under them, they didn’t rise. Fighting back a sob, she feebly rested her hand over his chest, feeling his heartbeat through his armour. If only Restoration had come to her as easily as the other Schools. If only it weren’t at odds with her very nature. Her voice going small, she warbled “Please, Max, don’t do this! Where’s your supply pack, wh-where are your potions? I warned you the Thalmor would be around right now, I-”
“I didn’t wanna lead them to you,” he abruptly croaked out, eyelids struggling to rise. The unrelated interruption gave Sabrina pause, but then she was bringing her hand up from his chest to the side of his face. She gave a delirious smile, sobbing out a short, hard laugh. Cheeks streaked dark with running mascara, she used her thumb to rub away the blood that had ran from the right side of his mouth, succeeding only in smearing it across his jaw. Chin quivering now, she mumbled “I’d rather that than this!” Max got his eyes open enough to look at her, watching her face. She was so torn up about it...Why? Had she forgotten that this could’ve happened at any point? He hadn’t.
He let his eyes ease shut, again. At least the elves had gotten what was coming to them. If Sabrina was smart with the bodies, nobody would be led to her den. Sabrina closed her eyes, lips uncontrollably twisting into another frown as she tried to stifle the trembling, to hold back the sobbing. Her voice on the verge of cracking, she breathed out “By the Nine, please, don’t let this happen!...Not like this!” She could hear his heart rate begin to slow, and steadily, that warmth of life, that richness in his body like a hot mist, began to ebb, to drain away. Sabrina opened her eyes back up in a panic. This couldn’t be allowed to happen. She couldn’t do this! She couldn’t just hold him in her arms and let him slip away! Sovngarde be damned!
He may have been ready, but she wasn’t!
There was always a choice. The choice. The choice to keep living, even if it meant in a different fashion. Sabrina moved with a familiarity and fluidity that disturbed even herself, especially herself. Try as she might to find explanations and justifications to put a moral spin on it, the end result was still the same: she was an unnatural creature, one that fed upon the suffering of others...Even Maximus, the one man she had ever loved, was ultimately no different. Like so many others of her kind, she didn’t offer the choice. She made it for him. She dropped her hand from the side of his face and grabbed the neck of his scalemail vest, pulling it aside as far as she could.
“I’m sorry, Max!...I can’t w-watch you do this!...”
The faster she did it, the further her heart sank, but time was of the essence in this curse she was so ready to share. She froze for but a moment when his neck was exposed, tears flowing freely from her eyes, stinging and blurring her vision. She knew he wouldn’t want this. Out of desperation to prove her love, she had once offered him immortality, and he had readily refused. He had no interest in vampirism, but now, she was thrusting it upon him. He was ready to die, but she was forcing life back upon him. She was ignoring his wishes twofold. Never once had she wanted to taste of his life - she was no monster, or so she often told herself. The ease with which she dropped her head violated that long-held belief. Just to keep him there, she would go against what everyone wanted.
Max barely gave a grunt. Perhaps it was confusion, perhaps he was still lucid enough to know what she was doing, and wanted to discourage her. Sabrina didn’t stop. She opened her mouth as she slid her hand around his shoulder, supporting his back as well as his head as she held him close. When contact happened, it barely took a split-second for his skin to break. He didn’t even react - her kind existed to parasitize the night, and a dying victim was on par with a sleeping one. She drank once, then hesitated. It was ashen. Part of her wanted to gag, to retch. This didn’t at all feel like it usually did. The rush was absent; the power, devoid. The rest of her coaxed her to swallow again as her mouth erratically filled.
This was different from a normal feeding. This time, part of her flowed back in to replace that which flowed out. She wasn’t just taking; an exchange took place. His heart rate slowed further. What once was a thump became a bump, then a blip. They spaced further and further apart until, at once, the next one simply never came...And yet, Maximus’ breathing never stopped.
Max opened his eyes with a bit of a start. The sky had changed. Stone? He tried turning his head to the side to glance at his surroundings, but a sharp pain in his muscles had him wincing, throwing a hand up to the right side of his neck. That motion made him aware of how silken the material beneath him felt...How soft the blanket overtop him felt. With another brief wince, he began to sit upright, sighing quietly as he let the blanket fall from his chest to his lap. His brow barely furrowed, a hint, as he looked around.
For a moment, he felt a dim confusion. He must have slipped unconscious for a bit, because the last thing he remembered, he had been lying on the ground outside Sabrina’s den, held in her arms as she broke down. Now, however, he was inside the den, tucked in snug as a bug inside her big, luxurious bed. Sabrina, herself, was nowhere to be seen, but given that her rows of bookshelves practically partitioned her den into two halves, sleeping and reading areas, it was entirely possible the transgendered bombshell were off somewhere, looking for some tome related to...Whatever in Oblivion it was she spent her time studying. Max hadn’t the foggiest, nor did he care to ask and have his time wasted with a no doubt convoluted explanation.
Still, he’d think she’d be there to see him upon waking, at least. Perhaps his injuries hadn’t been as severe as he had first thought, or perhaps Sabrina had had some way to heal him, because he had to say, he felt remarkably fine, all things considered.
There was just that bad crink in his neck that he had to contend with...
Slowly, his brow furrowed. His lips, set in a flat line, barely parted. She hadn’t...Had she? She wouldn’t have. She wouldn’t have dared. His brow furrowed, further. His eyes sharpened as his hand eased down from the side of his neck, his eyes shifting off to the side as he eyed the rest of the den. He pulled aside the blankets to her bed in a hurry and began to rise. He found himself naked with his legs feeling oddly damp, as if he had bathed and failed to properly dry himself before hopping into bed. Not a good sign - he remembered the blood. Although the natural fireplace in the nearby cave wall crackled with a fresh bonfire, the gloom of Sabrina’s den seemed...Unusually sparse. A worse red flag.
His footfalls resolute, he strode off, walking over into the gap between the two rows of bookshelves lining either side of the den, peering down towards the front half of the cave. He came to a stop, jaw tightening. There she was. Seated at her reading table, elbow to the edge of the table, forehead down on her palm as she read some no doubt terribly exciting text about the ancient applications of Magicka to light candles from across the room, or whatever else it was she felt like studying. He didn’t say anything as he silently crossed the den, staring hard at her until he felt close enough, but just as he opened his mouth to begin chewing her out and putting the hard questions to her, he noticed her shoulders shaking, her back rising and falling.
He slowed to a stop. His mouth closed, and although the look in his eyes softened, his knitted brow didn’t settle. He watched her for a moment, silent, before nonchalantly announcing “Well, I’m awake.” Sabrina gave a start, raising her head from her hand, turning to look at him in a quick glance before turning her head away in the other direction. The red look in her eyes wasn’t hidden fast enough. She tried to sniffle only subtly, quietly clearing her throat as she shifted her seating in the chair. Leaving some of her hair down, shielding part of her face from his angle, she kept her voice impressively steady as she nonchalantly said “Oh, yes, good. That’s good, I’m glad. My apologies, I wasn’t there to greet you. I, um...I only need a minute to check my makeup, please.”
Maximus quietly sighed through his nose, briefly looking up and off to the side in impatience. Sabrina gently sniffled again, but as she stood up from her chair, Max, just a little firmly, instructed “Sit down, Sabrina. The makeup can wait. I get the feeling there’s something we need to talk about. Don’t you?” Sabrina froze, back still turned to him. After a moment, she began sitting back down, slowly turning towards him. His eyes found her’s, and when he saw how she was barely keeping herself together...His heart was hard, but the stern look in his eyes lightened, all the same.
She was a wreck. Her pale face was a hint red from her attempts to purge whatever troubled her, no doubt with a ringing migraine to match. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot from crying, and her cheeks were streaked, wet and black with her mascara. She gently shook her head, unable to meet his eyes for longer than a couple moments before she was dropping them, looking down to the floor at his feet. Now, she didn’t bother trying to control her voice, her throat audibly tightening as she mumbled “I’m so sorry, Max!...” He just watched her, for a couple seconds. Need he even bother asking? Her reaction to seeing him waken was all the answer he needed, but all the same, he gave her a chance. With a surprising amount of patience, some of which may have been disingenuous, he calmly enunciated each word a bit firmly as he uttered “What happened, Sabrina?”
She tried to collect herself to answer him, drawing in a deep breath before slowly exhaling. She gave one more sniffle, harder this time, before gently clearing her throat. She looked up at him, met his eyes and, voice threatening to choke up at any moment, simply warbled “You were dying, Max...” Again, he said nothing immediate in response. He merely stared at her. He didn’t need to hear any more. What she had done was obvious. For what felt like a long time, they just looked at each other. Then, Max’s eyes drifted off to the side, going off at nothing in particular. Sabrina similarly looked away, putting her elbow to her armrest before again propping her forehead into her palm.
Slowly, Max dropped down to a kneel, then shifted his legs and sat down on the cold cave floor, loosely crossing his legs beneath himself. He said nothing, but idly shook his head just the once. It took some time, but Sabrina finally raised her head and looked at him. The faraway look on his face as he stared at the wall did nothing to encourage her. Her voice considerably more steady now, she softly insisted “You were dying. I couldn’t...” She quietly swallowed to steady herself, then a little more confidently added “...I just couldn’t.” She watched as he failed to respond, failed to even acknowledge her. His eyes simply drifted downwards, wearily closing, a touch.
Sabrina uncertainly rose from her chair and moved to his side. As she eased herself down to her knees beside him, she spoke gently, yet steadily. Touching one of his thighs with both hands, she lightly said “Max, I’m sorry, but I had no other choice...You didn’t seem to have any potions with you, and I’m not well-versed in Restoration. I didn’t have a choice...It was either that, or I let you die. I couldn’t do that.” Max didn’t answer straight away, but eventually, with a vaguely confused undercurrent, he remarked “...I don’t feel very different.” Sabrina gently raised her eyebrows, lightly tilting her head to the side to try and bring herself into his field of vision. More strength returning to her, she insisted “It’s my responsibility to aid you with this, Max - there’s things I need to tell you, and I don’t think you’d appreciate any lack of clarity.”
Max’s eyes finally shifted towards her, one eyebrow barely arching. For a moment, it almost seemed like he was noticing her for the first time, but then his eyes were turning more keen. Sabrina’s expression turned a touch more meek before she was murmuring “...My strain of vampirism is Porphyric Hemophilia. It’s the strain native to Cyrodiil, and it has different strengths and weaknesses from the strain common to Skyrim. I’ve...Passed it on to you, now. The greatest danger I need to warn you of is sunlight.” Sabrina’s eyes briefly dropped from his. Her voice going even smaller, she mumbled “...The native strain can survive in sunlight. Porphyric Hemophilia cannot. You can’t survive daylight, anymore...I’m sorry.”
Max just watched her for a moment, then blinked and looked off to the side. To her surprise, he remarked back “...Well. You survived without the sun for this long. How hard could it be?” Sabrina blinked, her mouth hanging ajar just a crack. She shouldn’t have been surprised - Max had always been an adaptable person. Why would he let something like this slow him down? He turned his eyes back over to her, letting them tiredly go half-closed. A wry smile growing across his face, he dryly remarked “Maybe it just hasn’t sank in yet that I’m an immortal bloodsucker, but I feel fine.”
“The first night’s always like that,” Sabrina blurted out.
He seemed to ignore the comment. A somewhat begrudging tone working into his voice, he added “And, I guess you saved my life. So...I suppose I should thank you. I didn’t even feel it.”
Sabrina started to tear up, again. “I did it as gently as I could,” she mumbled, her fingers impotently shifting on his thigh. A moment later, she was reaching out and leaning in, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she threw herself into an embrace. Max just put an arm around her waist. Why not be a good guy, he thought? Give her a chance to get it out of her system, to get a hold of herself. Uncharacteristic patience on his part, to be sure, but he supposed it’d give him a chance to mull this all over a little more, anyway. And, if he decided he didn’t like what she had done, well, the proximity at least kept her neck within reach. What the fuck had fang-face gotten him into this time?
Once Sabrina had calmed back down, she subtly attempted to take up the mantle of patron towards Maximus, a role she was clearly uncomfortable with for a multitude of reasons. Not only was she uncomfortable with the idea of being some kind of authority towards him, but as she confessed, she had never actually intentionally infected anyone with vampirism and then attempted to ease them into the role. At most, she had created temporary thralls of people, but never before had she knowingly afflicted someone with the full brunt of Porphyric Hemophilia. But, as she explained to Max, she now had a responsibility to explain how his life would need to change, going forward. There were things he needed to know, and it would be negligent of her not to teach.
Max listened, albeit aloofly. Sabrina explained as well as she could what the thirst for blood was truly like before Max had to experience the gnaw for himself, as well as her philosophy on vampirism: only the weak-willed gorged themselves. Only a monster embraced it. The truly powerful abstained and prevented the disease from overcoming them, to use what it offered while recompensing it as little as possible. To survive meant to accommodate: only the outcasts of society were fit for victims, as anyone else would be missed. Anyone missed would fuel vendetta and hunts, and with the Dawnguard resurrected, such a thing was doubly dangerous. There was great power and utility to be found, if only one handled it correctly.
Most powerful of all was immortality. Now, Sabrina reassured, Maximus would never need to fear withering with age, or the cold embrace of death. He could be forever...Just like her. She didn’t say it, but the tacit implication was, of course, with her. Maximus was about as thrilled about the prospect as he had first been upon hearing her first proposition: he didn’t much care for it. He wanted Sovngarde to be his eternity, he asserted. Eternity in Tamriel sounded bleak. Sabrina was a little befuddled. In some respects, she would’ve expected him to change his tune upon actually possessing immortality for himself, but she supposed he hadn’t yet had the time to really understand the full measure of the concept.
Then, before she could even answer the rejection of immortality, he asked a question she should’ve wholly expected, and yet, it nonetheless hit her like a punch to the gut: was there a cure?
Sabrina froze up. Max watched her, eyes calm. Both stood by her reading table, his posture at ease, her’s rigid. As he crossed his arms over his chest, Sabrina finally answered him. Trying not to sound unsteady, she gently cleared her throat, then honestly explained “Ah...Yes, I’ve heard of methods to cure vampirism. Some are...Complicated. Others are relatively simple. In fact, I believe I’ve heard tell that there’s even a man in...Dawnstar, I believe? Perhaps Morthal? A man who offers to cure any and all comers. But, his method may not work for Porphyric Hemophilia. It may only work on Sanguinare Vampiris, the strain native to Skyrim.”
Max matter-of-factly uncrossed one arm just enough to gesture at her with a flat hand. Nonchalantly, he remarked “That’s a long way to go when you can’t handle sunlight, anymore. I’m sure you could figure out a way to do it - you’re a smart cookie, after all. This place is full of books about Magicka, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders.” “I...Possibly,” Sabrina mumbled, tone a little strained and noncommital. Max barely raised an eyebrow. Bluntly, he ordered “Research it, then. Figure it out, for me. You saved my life, Sabrina, but you did it that specific way because you didn’t have any other choice. Now, we’re gonna fix it. I told you the first time you offered it to me: I’m not interested in being a vampire. No offence, but I was fine the way I was. So, back to normal as soon as possible, thanks.”
Sabrina gave a couple blinks in rapid succession, her expression falling until all life slowly drained from her face. A little quietly, she protested “I-It might take some time-” “I’m immortal now,” Maximus pointed out, starting to smile. “I have all the time in the world, don’t I? So, find a way to cure me. Maybe I’ll even give you a reward if you do it before I have to go out and bite somebody, or whatever in Oblivion. Not interested in finding out firsthand what that’s like. I prefer my steak well-done, thanks.” With a dismissive backhand wave, he turned and walked off in the direction of her bed, idly remarking “I’m getting dressed. Where’d you put my armour?” Sabrina just stared blankly at the space he had occupied a moment before. After a moment, she mumbled “...I, uh. I slid it under my bed.”
“Great,” Max remarked, disappearing between the stacks of books. She gave a blink, barely turning her head towards her table, eyes sightlessly drifting across the books overtop. Slowly, she eased herself back down into her seat. After everything...He didn’t want it. He wanted to throw it away. He wasn’t even giving it a chance...He wasn’t even giving her a chance. It was in his hands, now: he could be with her forever. He was immortal, just like her. If he wanted, he could just...Keep it. He could just keep her...Let her keep him. But, he just wanted to go back to being mortal. Why? Why give up on life, like that?...Why push her aside?
Did he hate it so, the idea of immortality? Why? Why did vampirism seem so monstrous to him? Certainly, she had grappled with her own feelings on the subject at first, but it hadn’t taken terribly long for her to find a happy medium. Being a monstrosity was a choice, and for so many, vampirism wasn’t. One could take the strength undeath had to offer and make it their own without allowing it to define them, without becoming a ghoul. Didn’t he understand the implications of what had happened between them?...She had given him immortality. He was the one person she would willingly give eternity to, then spend it with. Why would he just...Push it away?
She shut her eyes and sank back into her chair. She was overthinking it. The old Colovian pride was getting to her. It...Didn’t mean all that, necessarily. Max’s perspective must’ve been precisely as simple as he had laid it out to be: she had infected him with vampirism to save his life, and now that he had been saved and the Thalmor had been dealt with, it was time to cure him and return to the status quo. Time to go right back to the way things had used to be...The thought made her stomach cold. She turned a critical eye on herself, somewhat bitterly wondering why this mattered to her, so much. At the time, she had felt just like Max did. She had turned him solely to save his life. That was it, that was all.
But, as the reality had set in and she had made extrapolations...Her heart had gotten in the way, her hope blinding her to reality. Why wouldn’t he want immortality?...Why wouldn’t he want to spend it with her? Her pride stung, but her heart hurt worse. Maybe if he just knew what it’d be like, he’d change his mind. She knew she could make him happy, she just needed a chance. She could ease his pain over Gabby, she just needed a chance. Why couldn’t he give her, and eternity, a chance? Maybe she was being foolish. Maybe she had gotten her hopes pinned on something beyond her reach. Nothing would’ve made her happier than to have him at home, her lover, there for her to pamper. Maybe, if he only knew what that would be like, then...?
She gave a start as she heard his footsteps approach, looking over in a hurry. Dressed in his damaged scalemail armour, he looked at her, about to say something when she looked him in the eyes, new optimism welling up inside her breast. With a small smile, she said “Alright, good news, Max. I believe I recall mention of a ritual in one of my tomes. I’ll have to track it down, however, and there may be components that I’ll need to acquire. This may take some time, Max. Can I ask you to be patient? I’ll work as fast as I can, but...” Her voice went to a mumble as she gingerly suggested “...A couple weeks, perhaps?”
Maximus’ brow immediately sank deep as he blurted out “A couple weeks?” Sabrina gave him a bit of a rueful grimace by way of apology. Although his voice dropped to a mutter, his eyes failed to harden. “Ysmir’s beard, Sabrina,” he remarked, “you better get this done quick. You know I’m not a particularly patient man, and this is one big gods-damn problem you’ve thrown at me, here.” Sabrina gave an honest nod, reassuringly murmuring “Yes, of course, I promise. I’ll try to get it done as quickly as possible. But, in the meantime, you should really stay here with me. You’ll need someone to watch over you right now, and I promise you, I can keep you safe, here. Nobody will disturb us.”
Max threw his hands up at the apparent futility of his situation, turned around, and aimlessly wandered deeper into her cave. That settled it: Maximus would wait with her until she sorted out the ritual to cure him of vampirism. And with that, that simple little white lie, Sabrina initiated the happiest days of her life.
Oh, there was a cure to vampirism. That much was very much true. But, Sabrina knew she hadn’t been...Quite as honest with him as she could’ve been. All for his own benefit, of course! If she had genuinely wanted to have him cured as quickly as humanly possible, well, she knew the process by which Falion in Morthal cleansed the disease. Even the most abstract item required for the ritual, a filled black soul gem, was relatively simple to acquire. However, she truly wasn’t entirely sure if the ritual would work on Max’s strain of vampirism. Just to be safe, she aimed to enact a more archaic ritual, one native to Cyrodiil, one that would take much longer to prepare...One that would give them time together, one that would give Max time to change his mind.
She told herself that she wouldn’t sabotage her own efforts - she truly would work to refresh her knowledge of the ritual, collect the components, and prepare it for him. She wouldn’t go out of her way to delay the process any more than necessary, and if the time came and he was still adamant on curing himself, if he hadn’t come to enjoy his time with her enough to want it to last, then she wouldn’t deny him the cure. She’d grant his wish and set him free of the accursed disease, and everything would go back to the way it had used to be. Perhaps, she thought, the weeks would afford her a chance in equal measure to come to terms with the idea that she had gotten her hopes pinned on a pipe dream. She had never thought that this could come to pass, and when it had happened, she just...Had become so happy. Guilty, but elated, all the same.
That sensation only became more intense as the days went by. Every day saw her happier, richer of soul, fuller with life...But heavier of heart. Although she had bought these days with deception, every minute was worth gold. Simply having Max there made her nightly and daily routines so much more vibrant. She could wake up, and he’d be there in bed, right beside her. He’d be there as she studied Magicka and pursued the ritual to cure him, and in just those few nights, they wound up speaking more at length on personal matters and musings than they ever had before.
They reminisced on the time they met and how their journey ultimately led to assaulting Bunny’s clan, but conspicuously glossed over Gabriella’s departure to Falkreath. They talked about their respective pasts, about the goings-on with the other ladies in their disbanded team. She even persuaded him to cuddle by her fireplace, at times. Sabrina smiled, she laughed, she sighed...She got to tell him every day that she loved him. Nothing else mattered. Everything in the world seemed right.
Of course, that was all besides their ravenous sex life. Undeath had done nothing to quench Max’s aggressive libido, and with Sabrina the only one there, constantly at his side, well...She was more than happy to become the receptacle for his lusts, to pamper him, to needily indulge in his body, to have him indulge in her’s and ravish her. She was his Anal Queen, a happy butt-slut, a subdued slave to his big prick and all the prostate-poundings he deemed fit to dole out...Of which there were at least one per day. With all the extra time they had together, she could even slip into the coveted role of “Mouth Slave,” and the sweetness of having her greatest fantasy fulfilled was enough to make her tear up.
She had savoured anal sex so many ways, so many times...But her oral fixation as a vampire and ever-present ache to please him kept her thirsting for his lust, and now, with the ring-gag collar courtesy of Svetlana, she and Maximus finally had something that could put the unspoken trust issue to rest. Sabrina wound up spending a good deal of time on her knees every day, addicted to the heady sensation of going down on a man, of mouthing and throating his pulsating meat, to bob her face in his lap, to breathe in the smell of his skin...It didn’t matter where he finished; whether she tasted it or not, simply feeling it on her skin was rapturous. Every day, she’d suck him near dry, leaving him red and well-loved, but she always ensured she left him with enough for a load up her thick bubble butt before bedtime.
It got to the point where Sabrina stopped wearing clothes, throughout the day. At most, she’d wear her thong, possibly her bra, and potentially some lingerie. Beyond that, however? It’d just get in the way, really. Max didn’t take long to follow her example. Why bother getting dressed if it’d only be the two of them, day in and day out? They saturated her den in the scent of sex, marking her lair as their lair. It never became routine, never became trite - with Max, that simply seemed impossible. He’d surprise her, spring it on her when she wasn’t expecting it, do it some new way with a new mood. More than once while she were studying, he’d simply go over, push her over her table, and forcibly ream her out until she forgot all about whatever it was she was studying. The thoughts only drained from her head and made a puddle on the floor, by her feet.
Of course, not all was sweet. Far from it. After his brief adjustment period to the disease, when Max’s change began to finalize, Sabrina could tell that he grappled with the thirst. Like her, his will was strong, likely even stronger, but this was a new addiction plaguing his very being, one he needed time to come to terms with. She had centuries of experience over him. It was up to her to keep him encouraged, to help him during their few excursions to only take enough to satisfy himself, not to glut himself like a ravening beast. It wasn’t easy, and he loathed to admit he was having difficulty, but Sabrina presented a gentle guiding hand.
When he realized the way the disease had changed his appearance, it clearly bothered him. Not only had his eyes turned a faded shade of crimson, but his skin had paled a hue and dark circles had begun to develop around his eyes, as if all the deep, peaceful sleeps he’d been enjoying with Sabrina simply hadn’t occurred, at all...Then, of course, there were the fangs. He frequently pressured Sabrina on the progress of the ritual, and when she had no choice but to ask for more patience, he invariably became frustrated. Although it took her some time to get around to trying, she ultimately did attempt to touch on the subject of Gabriella, and each time she did, the friction between the two only mounted.
A couple times, letters would reach Sabrina from either Svetlana or Bunny, and she and Max both agreed not to inform either of the two about Max’s vampirism. Considering the disease was supposed to only be temporary, it didn’t make sense to cause either of the two any undue worry. As time wore on, Max’s distaste for his condition became more readily apparent...Particularly whenever Sabrina would accompany him to feed. Although Forsworn were the most readily available targets that afforded a clean conscience, Max still found it both disgusting and demeaning to feed upon them. This wasn’t how he wanted to live his life, nor how he had wanted to combat the natives. This was...A corruption. A perversion.
Every attack he slung at his own condition crushed Sabrina lower. Every attack he hurled at vampirism felt like an attack launched at her, personally, as well as the gift of immortality she had given him, the shameful price she had paid to save his life, the relationship they could have well into the future...And as time wore on, Sabrina lost her certainty that he was unaware of said feelings. The more he looked down on himself, the more frustrated he became with his condition, the more he fought the concept of losing his humanity, the more Sabrina questioned his true feelings towards her, in turn. Was that how he saw her, too?...Just another disgusting parasite, stalking the night? Less than human?
Sabrina pushed it away, bottled it up, crushed the despair into a tiny seed and tucked it away at the back of her mind. She had hoped that the weeks would give her time to let go of the concept of steady life with Max, but it had achieved quite the opposite. Now, she had only whetted her own appetite. The thought of letting it go now that she knew what it would’ve been like, of condemning him back to mortality let alone the thought that he had no idea how much she had enjoyed the time with him, was enough to bring her to tears. She needed him so much - just being in his arms made the world outside her cave disappear. By contrast, his determination to cure himself had only grown parallel to his revulsion with undeath.
Eventually, the dreaded day came. Sabrina was scant paces away from being ready to initiate the cleansing ritual...And her scheme to give Max her heart had failed. He didn’t want eternity. Not her eternity, at least.
There Sabrina sat, perched over the beautiful throne-like chair she kept at her reading table, wearing naught but her ring-gag collar and a woefully tight-packed thong of black silk. Bloody red eyes easing right and left behind the lenses of her spectacles, she followed the words of the grimoire split open before her, eyes shifting back and forth between the instructions and the diagrams. Yes...She believed, with a lingering ghost of dismay, that she was ready. All the components had been assembled, and she had worked the kinks out of the ritual. This final diagram, here, was the last piece in the puzzle, the last variable that could be concluded, the last offshoot to explore. There would be no more uncertainty...No more procrastination.
It was ironic, in a way. Curing her vampirism had never really interested her, not like undoing her transgendered body had once been, at least. Vampirism had seemed like a clear net gain, in the end. Still, when Max had ordered her to find a way to cure him, her academic spirit and natural curiosity hadn’t been able to stop her from turning it into a legitimate pet project, fuelled by a very real wonderment. It was interesting, the theories behind how it worked - that the curse at the heart of vampirism, the taint behind the disease, was siphoned off to the mortal soul trapped in a black soul gem, then destroyed to banish both. She didn’t desire it for herself, but like all things related to Magicka, the theory and recorded discourse were intriguing.
She heard Max stir, over in the other half of the den. Pinky outstretched, she gently trailed the ring and middle fingers of her left hand down the length of the page, feeling the aged texture pass under her skin as she followed the words one last time. She put on a resigned smile, barely exhaling through her nose as his footsteps approached. Gently raising her eyebrows, she kept her eyes steady on her book as she said “Max, I’m glad you’re up. I believe I have some good news-” He cut in, his voice an amused rumble as he remarked “Yeah, I have some good news of my own...”
She arched an eyebrow in curiosity, finally looking over just as he came right up beside her regal chair. Her eyelashes fluttered in a couple quick blinks as her eyes uncontrollably homed in on his crotch, locking on the foot-long of maiden-violating meat the Imperial sported, the bludgeon standing firm enough to point accusingly towards her vulnerable face. With her seated, that brought the two of them close enough to raise eyebrows. Her eyes ticked upwards, mouth falling open just a crack. The man she had fallen in love with so long ago, now a little paler, looked down at her with eyes a bloody hue to match her own, his grin wide enough to show off his new incisors. Maximus Iron-Heart, prowler of the night. Gods help us all.
He barely gave her a moment to realize his intentions, and even that was purely due to the need to pull up her choker and fit the ring of the fang-guard to her mouth - no doubt if it hadn’t been needed to, he would’ve simply turned her head to the side and began making love to her mouth, right then and there. She barely gasped a syllable as he reached over to her throat, grabbed the leather of her collar with both hands, and pulled the loop up past her jaw. She offered no resistance when he eased her jaw down and fit the metal ring at the front of the collar between her lips, sliding the tiny caps at either side over her fangs, sheathing the weapons.
He could already see the growth in her thong, the meek slut. With her mouth kept nice and open, he turned her head towards him a little more, stepped closer, and with a nonchalant confidence, he simply lined the swollen tip of his prick up with the ring and just slid right on in, moving with a casual fluidity no different from reaching for a book or lighting a candle. He didn’t stop easing in to her wet warmth until he reached the back of her mouth, prompting him to give a little exhale before withdrawing, immediately starting up a rhythm. At first, Sabrina dutifully went limp, her eyes easing shut as a glimmer of moisture collected across them.
By the Nine...Giving head was just too much, for her. What a splendorous experience. Not only did it please her carnal side, but it teased her undead side, as well. It had always taken such inordinate force of will to allow herself to be teased in such a way, to taste her man, to feel the hot, pulsating warmth of his cock, his life, feeding back and forth through her mouth...But, that made it all the richer. Restraint was what she needed. Restraint and, if need be, discipline. Simply tasting his skin, smelling his musk, had nearly every muscle in her body turning to jelly. Having her mouth so readily taken was more than enough to get a rise out of her; she damn near instantly became as hard as steel, torturing that poor thong by stretching it taut against the tip of her own near foot-long manhood.
Sabrina’s eyelids flickered as he lightly rocked against her face a few times, gently prodding the back of her throat as she lightly waved her tongue about, massaging the urethral bulge lining the underside of his shaft. She offered a placid mumble against him as he took her by the back of her head, sinking his fingers into her long, silken locks, guiding her head to begin bobbing to replace his pumping. Sabrina’s breathing slowly began to escalate as her head slid back and forth, her eyelids slowly rising, sightlessly watching the man’s lap come back and forth before her face. The feeling of the thong’s strings, so tight under, around, and against her, only helped to blossom the blush in her face, rather than hinder it.
Oh, Max...If only you’d see how much she loved you, desired you. If only you’d see fit to do this every day...You’re the only man she could ever truly love. The only man to whom she could give her heart would be the man who directly helped quell much of the turmoil raging inside her, for so long. The man who helped make her realize that she even desired men, to begin with. The man who had helped her accept herself, to accept and even enjoy being a woman, to end her farcical outlook and show her the way to being at peace with herself. The only man she could ever love would be the man who had helped create the new her, the gentler her, the more accommodating her. The man who had feminized her would always have her loyalty, her gratitude.
She gave a little coo, a little moan, against the end of his cock, subtly vibrating his length with the vocalization. She moved to take over his efforts, to enthusiastically throw herself into the blowjob, to happily worship at his altar and satisfy her man’s need. She began to rock her head of her own volition, working her tongue more thoroughly, teasing him by pressing him up against the roof of her mouth, sliding him to the back over her mouth on every pump. She languidly reached her right hand over, delicately wrapping her fist around the base of his prick, pinky daintily extended as she gently milked her hand into and away from her puffy lips. She brought her right hand over to his hip, tears of bliss shimmering in her eyelashes as she crawled her fingers over to his stomach, feeling his muscles, feeling him breathe.
She ignored her own lust, satisfying it by satisfying him, basking in the pulsing need that going down on him inspired. This wasn’t about her cock, it was about his. No matter how needily she stretched out her thong, no matter how tense and borderline numb her furious hard-on became, no matter how damp the triangle of silk stretched against her tip grew...She ignored it, revelling in the slow burn of lust, content to see release only upon his order. As she bobbed her head back and forth, she tried to get her lips past the ring and on his shaft, tried to smudge her black lipstick against him, giving a contented sigh as she eased her head even deeper. Stopping her breathing, she barely even made a noise as she sank her face even deeper into his lap, slipping her hand off of his meat as she fed inches into her gullet.
She felt one of his hands come down to her chest, resting over an ample breast. In short order, he was getting a good hold, offering her a nice honking as he firmly swept his fingers across her swell, homing in on her big areolae and tender, cherry-sized nipple. She tried not to whimper at the jolt of sensitivity that passed through her, but feeling those fingers firmly rub down to her hot nubbin nonetheless had her legs giving a brief twitch. Her cock flexed, pulling at the crotch of her thong, digging the string harder against the underside of her body, pulling it tauter across her pucker.
The way the string helplessly rode up between her meaty, overfull balls, teasing her smotheringly big beanbag, so torturously tempted her to just grab her length and beat herself off. But, no...Self-restraint, fang-face. Be strong...Be giving. Enjoy it. Submit to him. She redoubled her efforts, a queer way to distract herself from her need by channelling it into him. She eased her head in all the way until the ring of her gag reached his base, her lips brushing against his skin as her nose pressed into his pubic hair. She brought the hand she had been stroking him with down to his balls, delicately teasing them with her fingertips and carefully manicured fingernails, touching his underslung reactors to her chin for the full trifecta of face-fucking: nose, lips, and chin, all pressed to his crotch.
Max smirked to himself as he watched her, eyes half-closed and confident as she began gliding her head back and forth, effortlessly sliding herself onto and off of his tool, feeding his inches down into her welcoming throat. Ohh, she always had so much fun, doing this. Nothing satisfied him more than a partner legitimately enthused about sex, who threw themselves into it with an unabashed hunger...Or at least enjoyed going along with whatever it was he wanted to do, anyway. And, he had to admit, even with that gag keeping her mouth open, she could still give one damn good mouth massage. Plus, that was the advantage of an undead lady friend, wasn’t it? They didn’t need to breathe. They could deepthroat as long as it took.
He closed his eyes, offering a deep, contented sigh, an approving noise that only had Sabrina looking up to his face, the pink in her pale visage slowly simmering to a deeper hue. His every reaction thrilled her to her core. Her eyes went glassy and half-closed as she watched the way his mouth briefly opened a touch, his eyes opening to find her submissively looking up at him, drinking in the reactions to her efforts. He gave a little grin, prompting her to try swallowing without realizing it, gulping against his cock. She throttled back her deepthroating, easing back until she was just sucking on a portion of his meat, allowing space for her hand to get back to work on the far end. She stopped teasing his balls and eased her fingers back up to his shaft, slowly wrapping around them and cinching into a firm grip.
Her breathing started to get noisy and needy as she quickened her head pumping, creating a lewd chorus in his lap of wet friction, the slurping of saliva, and the occasional lip smacking as she tried so very hard to have her beestung lips make steady contact with his length. Feeling her lips gliding across him was so very much a delightful experience, but with this ring keeping her mouth open...His hand still on her chest, he made her whimper when he took her big nipple between his index finger and thumb, lightly tweaking and rolling the firm button around between his digits, feeling the way her head-sized globe quivered under his hand as her breathing grew sharp, unsteady. She closed her eyes, screwing them tight for a second, trying not to let herself get distracted. The thrumming from the broad claymore jutting up from her lap was a testament to the difficulty of said task.
The hand she kept over his stomach drifted to the side, found his forearm, and followed it down to his wrist. She wrapped her fingers around it, not daring to go further for several seconds, trying to content herself with a safe display of her affections. But, as always, it simply wasn’t enough. She needed to show more, she needed to feel it returned. She needed him to know. She slowly slid her hand further down, delicately draping her fingers across his palm, leaving her thumb across the back of his hand. He didn’t react for several seconds, but the simple fact that he wasn’t pulling his hand away was more reassuring to Sabrina than she could say, cock filling her mouth notwithstanding.
Eventually, she felt his hold subtly tighten, answering her’s. He was actually holding her hand...The shudder that passed through Sabrina’s body caused teardrops to run from the outside corners of either eye. He gently pinched her nipple as she began pumping her head even faster, unabashedly groaning against him as she stroked him into her mouth, sloppily tugging his spit-polished knob. He gave her nipple a light pull, then let go, prompting her to bounce back into place. He gave a steamier sigh, then a little grunt. Sabrina gave a shuddering moan as she noisily slurped away, gently tilting her head from side to side as she ground his helmet against the back of her throat. She could tell he was getting close - she had gone down on him enough times, by then, to be able to orally read his cues.
He was getting stiffer, hotter, the pulses were coming a little faster, he’d press against the roof of her mouth as he flexed...The end was near, she was coaxing the baby-batter right up out of him. Only question was, where would it go?...Where did he see fit to spill his seed? She almost had no preference, she loved getting it everywhere. But, if she had a choice in the matter...Oh, tasting it was the way to go, to feel it fill her mouth, coat her tongue, run around her teeth, then warm her throat on the way down...Just the thought was almost too much for her. He gave another little grunt, then chuckled huskily and muttered “Alright, fang-face...If you promise it won’t distract you, I’ll let you diddle yourself. Show me you want it before I give it to you.”
Sabrina uncontrollably swallowed some of the saliva that had collected in her mouth. Gods, yes. Cranking her handle while sucking his dick? Few experiences in life were so heady. If only she had the time to indulge her inner epicurean and gargle his spunk like that, forever. For a moment, she was torn: which hand to use? Should she let go of his hand, or stop jerking his big prick against her loving mouth? After just that one moment of hesitation, she resolutely made her decision. She let go of his prick, deciding that pumping two cocks might be too much for her to skilfully coordinate, in her current condition. And, besides...She very much did not want to let go of his hand, not now, not after everything. They could thread fingers as she got off on getting him off, a tender twist to this most salacious of outbursts.
She happily tugged the front of her thong down, peeling the dampened silk off of her pre-cum slathered helmet, finally freeing up her rigid prick. The ebony cock ring snug around the base of her shaft made her veins bulge, making it all the more difficult to ignore the pulsing. Her turgid nine inches quaked in deference to the ten partially sheathed in her mouth, but the twitches turned more excited as she wrapped her hand around her own meat, priming it to join it’s bigger brother in the pleasure. Without hesitation, Sabrina began pumping herself, starting off with a vigorous rhythm as she stroked herself from root to tip, pulling her meat hard enough to get her bloated beanbag bouncing between her thick thighs, the vampire’s spunk-flooded orbs swaying and swinging in the gap between her legs.
No mercy, no foreplay; she needed it, and she needed it now, greedily jerking off like a wanton slut. Her nostrils flared from how hard she panted for air. She tightened her hold on his hand, deepening her head pistoning until his tip was poking into her throat, the better part of half of his length going shiny with her saliva as she deepened her movements once more. Max watched her work her magic for a little while longer, then closed his eyes as his breathing deepened. Oh, this was going to be a good one, he could already tell. He brought his free hand to the top of her head, relishing that sweet burn as she brought him right to the edge, coasting precariously along it for several intense moments before finally going over.
With a tense groan, his hand slid down across her hair to the back of her head, nonverbally letting her know he aimed to misbehave. Perspiration beaded on Sabrina’s forehead as it happened, eyes still closed with her speared mouth spread into a seductive “O.” He gave one more throb and then, all at once, he began spurting, that warm, syrupy lust lancing against the back of her mouth in burst after burst, each jet splashing about and filling her mouth more and more with the fruits of her labours, her hefty reward for mouthing him so well. The light red in her face deepened just a little more, her brow knitting as she gave a shuddering exhale, helplessly gurgling the semen at the back of her mouth. The scent of his spunk blew up the back of her nostrils, saturating her in her lover, drowning her in Max.
Oh, Julianos...Going down on him was bliss. Tasting his lust straight from the source was enough to make her eyes slowly roll back into her skull. She began tilting her head back, his cock still inserted into the ring of her gag all the while, the vampire doing her best to keep his seed from spilling free. Her closed eyes tensed for a moment, but then she was opening them, struggling to focus up on his face. She watched him, his eyes closed in the sensations rocking him as he finished pouring his load into her mouth with a sigh. As he opened his eyes, he smiled down at her. Her expression was lust-lost, blank, eyes lustreless and half-closed...But the arm she pumped with began to pick up steam, shaking the one breast hard enough to jiggle it into the other. It was her turn, now, yes?...
Her knees briefly shifted, her legs helplessly moving as she relentlessly pleasured herself, the voluptuous vixen trying her best not to squirm in her seat. She eased her head back, sliding herself off of his cock far enough to slip him free, leaving strings of saliva dangling between his tip and her lips, doomed to break and fall to her chin. Keeping her head tilted back, she put his mess on display for him, letting him see her face and his handiwork, the way the cloudy puddle in her mouth shifted as she wiggled her tongue through it. She resumed normal breathing through her nose as he reached over, slipping free her gag before sliding it back down around her throat. With her mouth no longer pried open, Sabrina sealed her lips together, watching him watch her as she gulped once, twice, then thrice. Opening her mouth and extending her long, sensual tongue, she gave a needy sigh as she showed off her emptied mouth, proof of her submission.
He smirked higher. Good little fang-face. Never waste a drop, if he doesn’t want you to. In a somewhat entertained mutter, he remarked “I almost wanted to blow my load across those tits of your’s, but then I thought...Why make a mess? Just swallow it. You prefer it that way, anyway.” She nodded hard, gazing up at him longingly. It would’ve been lovely, feeling that heat splash her tits and drip about, but tasting it was the creme de la creme. She gave the faintest wince of ecstasy, her hips briefly rolling against her seat as she kept stroking. She wasn’t far. Breathing the words out, she mumbled “Please, sir...I’m gonna cum, soon...Can I suck it just a little more?” She swallowed, her tone subtly becoming more desperate. “I...I wanna cum with your cock in my mouth, mister. Can I? J-Just some suckling, to g...Get the last couple drops. I, I’ll cum really hard, if I do.”
Her pumping arm went into a burst of speed, picking up the pace until her fist was clapping her crotch. Her eyes helplessly crossed, a little, before she blinked, refocusing them. Her voice going small, she breathed out “Please?...Mister, please...” Max watched her beg, smirking all the while. It would’ve been hilarious to tease her more, to torture her, to keep her waiting until she blew her load, leaving her agonized that she hadn’t been able to hold out long enough to get her wish. But, he supposed, play the nice guy, for now. Let her indulge her fixation with dick, let her wrap those big, fat, slutty, cock-sucking lips around his prick and suckle him down from the afterglow. There’d be other blowjobs to torture her during. Let her fulfill her fantasy, for this one.
He took her by the side of her head and eased her back in. She promptly closed her eyes as he allowed his tip to enter her mouth, giving her something to suckle at. Sabrina shivered, greedily closing her lips around him before starting up some nursing, flicking the end of her tongue against the eye of his tip, trying to coax out the dregs left in his cum-vein. Within moments, her nostrils were flaring again, her brow delicately knitting as her chest rose and fell in harsh pants. Max grinned, waiting until just the right moment to strike. He watched Sabrina’s legs shift, her thighs easing a little more open, then a little more closed, her tummy rising and falling alongside her chest. Oh, she was working herself into a lather.
She pointed her cock downwards, aiming it towards her table and away from herself. Her big balls started to draw up, and then, with a droplet of sweat rolling down her face, the vampire began dumping her load with a choked grunt, flinging free all the salty slut-slime that had been roiling inside her. Sabrina gave an urgent whimper, her legs stretching out. That first rope of cum was so long, so thick, it struck the edge of the table, splashing across the red tablecloth draped overtop. Max chuckled nastily. The time was now. Still holding the side of her head, he poked his thumb into her mouth, just by the corner.
He put his thumb behind her fang, ensuring he knew where it was, as well as preventing it from coming down, of course, before he was pulling her all the way back in, mid-orgasm. In one fell swoop, he plunged his cock back into her mouth and down her throat, impaling her face all the way down into his lap, holding her face to his crotch. For the first time, he had fed her his meat without the ring-gag between them, letting her close her mouth just enough to feel like a babe at a teat. Sabrina opened her eyes, unable to stop them from rolling back. She gave another urgent, high-pitched moan, a girly squeal, as she shifted and rocked in her seat, splaying her thighs like a bitch in heat.
She couldn’t stop herself from firing a second jet against the tablecloth, but then she was pointing her cock upwards, mercilessly beating her meat throughout her orgasm. She clenched his hand tight as she let the rest of her load arch up and splash down against her belly, her hand, her cock, and even her balls, the vampire’s rich slop spilling here and there with wanton abandon. For the first time, she could really suck on his prick, but she was just too lost to manage it. But still, cumming with her nose to his crotch and her chin to his balls was more than enough to coax an explosive response from her.
Sabrina closed her eyes and shuddered as her own potent semen became lube mid-climax, turning her efforts chaotic, causing the ropes and jets to sprinkle out of her and fly everywhere, unpredictably flinging this way and that. After a few moments, the floodgates closed, the little undead harlot heaved a sigh against his crotch, and her hand only slowly began to stop passing back and forth, her fist still tight as it gave a few slow, hard strokes back and forth, the alabaster spunk churned across her length creating audible wet noises as she worked it into her own dick. Max chuckled to himself, idly holding the head of her chair as he withdrew, slipping his thumb and cock alike free from her confines.
He hadn’t been playing the orgasm denial game with her these past few weeks, far from it, but no matter how many times she came, she could still pop her top like a real slut. All it took was the right application of pressure. He watched her have a little rest, passively suckling on his tip until she had ridden down from her high. Then, as he slipped his helmet free from between her puffy lips, she breathed out “Thank you...Hahh...That was amazing...” He grinned, barely raising an eyebrow. That’s what he liked to hear, fang-face. Admit you got off on it with zero shame whatsoever. Revel in it. As she sat up a little more and eyed the embarrassing mess she had made, both on and off of herself, Max looked off into the distance, a mildly consternated look drifting across him. Audibly bemused, he remarked “...Were you saying something, before? Something about good news?”
Sabrina briefly went still, recollection dawning in her eyes. She began to rise to her feet, keeping her side to him while placidly murmuring “Ah, yes...I almost forgot. Um...Just, allow me a minute to clean up. I’d hate to stain the tablecloth, and I very nearly need a bath. It certainly went everywhere, this time.” Tossing him a glance from over the rims of her spectacles, she offered him a subtly unimpressed grimace as she mumbled an additional “...Then, we can get to the pressing business that was at hand, prior to the interruption.” Max briefly narrowed an eye, brow barely furrowing as he smugly smiled damn near from ear to ear.
He stepped in a little closer to her side, swatting a hand across her ass before gripping a cushiony cheek, giving it a firm jiggling. Taking her by the jaw with his free hand, he dismissed her bellyaching as he leaned in, remarking “Oh, be quiet. You loved it.” She didn’t dispute the assertion. When he came in and turned her face towards him, when he kissed her, her flagging hard-on gave a couple weak flexes, the drippy tip threatening to smear the edge of the table. She conceded to his earlier claim with a gentle coo in her throat. The two shared a couple slow, deep kisses, savouring the feeling of each other’s lips for several moments before Max was giving her thick ass another patting, a more dismissive one, this time. As he turned to walk away, he remarked “Alright, find me whenever you’re done.”
Sabrina smiled as she watched him go, but it didn’t last long before she was silently sighing through her nose, exhaling hard enough to deflate. This was it, then. This was the last day they’d be immortal, together...The last day he’d be a vampire alongside her. As soon as she told him she was ready to initiate the rites, he’d no doubt expect them to be done immediately, and then...Who knows, he’d probably just up and leave within the hour. He had spent weeks with her as it was, and primarily out of necessity and ease of comfort, at that. Why stay for longer than necessary? His armour needed repairs, he had places to go to, people to see...Why stick around a single minute longer?
What had this all accomplished, really?...Certainly, these had been the happiest days of her life, but now...Now that she knew what the fantasy was like, now that she knew how fulfilling a life she’d be missing out on, could she really just go back to the status quo? Could she really stomach losing him? Could she willingly condemn him to mortality, all over again?...It’d be like preemptively losing him, even before his inevitable death. Didn’t he understand how she felt? Perhaps. He was far from unobservant. With the end so close, however, there couldn’t have been any harm in telling him how she felt, if he’d even listen.
At the same time, it’d be an opportunity to thank him for offering her his companionship, for so long. Although unfortunate circumstances had brought them together for these past few weeks, she wouldn’t have changed a thing about them. Sabrina tried not to let her eyes sting as she resigned herself to defeat. It was time to face facts. Her gambit had failed, and although the journey had been enjoyable, she hadn’t reached the destination. He had displayed no signs of appreciating immortality, or even in this escalation in their relationship. She’d need to comfort herself with the knowledge that, at the very least, the two of them would go back to the way they had used to be. That, at least, was still there. It wasn’t all she wanted...But, it would have to do.
Once she had cleaned her tablecloth, the cave floor, her chair, and finally herself, Sabrina spent a few minutes collecting her thoughts, idly touching her forehead as she silently paced by the cave exit, listening to the distant crackling of her den’s natural fireplace. She did her best to find the words, to piece them together into some semblance of a whole, to try her best to encapsulate her feelings. It didn’t so much matter, painting the perfect picture, so long as he understood the general message. Knowing Max, she’d need to be clear and concise, otherwise he might become bored, impatient, dismissive, or some combination of the three. He had never liked hearing her bring up the topic of love, at least, not until these last couple weeks. If he thought this was all nothing but some grand declaration of love, he might get peeved.
Trouble was, there were so many things she wanted to say, and in so many ways...If she didn’t explain herself well enough, he might not grasp the weight of what she was saying. Still, he had had the patience to wait weeks for his cure. Perhaps he could afford her a couple minutes more to explain what it had meant, to her. When she felt ready, she went to him, stomach twisting into a knot all the while. Crossing over into the other portion of her den, she went behind the bookshelves and by the fireplace, looking hither and thither. There Max lay, lounging about on her bed, casually sitting up at the edge as he noticed her.
“All done?” He asked, a blase tone about it. “Alright, what’s the good news,” he wearily asked, leaning over, putting an elbow to a knee. Evidently, he didn’t exactly have his hopes pinned on hearing that his wait was finally over. A bit of a melancholic look came to her. Eyes a little downcast, her brow just barely knitted, her lips pouting in the beginnings of a frown, she maintained a serious, yet not at all severe, tone as she quietly said “Yes, well...Before I get to that, Max, I was hoping you’d give me a minute to say something. There’s something I’ve wanted to say to you for a while now, in fact.”
She tilted her head forward, looking down at the floor by his feet. He didn’t prod her on, but he did wind up rising to his feet, after a couple seconds. She waited a moment, nibbling her upper lip. What if he reacted poorly? She couldn’t let that stop her. This was too important. Eventually, he goaded her on, remarking “...Well? Out with it, already. What’s on your mind?” As she looked back up to his eyes, he gave a little chuckle, smiling as he remarked “What, wanted to thank me again? Once is enough, Sabrina.” She gently furrowed her brow, brusquely answering “No, it has nothing to do with that. Tangentially, perhaps, but not directly.”
“Then?” He prodded, watching her with amusement. Sabrina quietly shuffled her feet, then held her left hip. Her expression going passive, her eyes dropped to his waist for a moment, and as they rose back to his, she began her hastily prepared speech, starting off with a light “I just wanted to say thank you. I don’t...Know if I’ve made it clear, but these past few weeks have meant the world, to me.” Maximus merely gave a slow blink, barely raising his right eyebrow. Sabrina watched his eyes, her own already growing moist. She had ordered herself not to tear up, demanded herself to keep it together, but in the moment of truth, all of her preparation couldn’t begin to hold it back as she finally told him how she felt.
She continued, slowly saying “I had long dreamt of something like this happening, and this was a chance for me to finally live it. I don’t know how else to put it than I love you, Maximus...And, I wish these days would never end.” The amusement slipped away from Max’s eyes. His lips went into a flat line as he briefly looked off to the side, eyes shifting about in thought before returning to her’s. Sabrina barely arched her eyebrows, looking down at his knees as she mumbled “I know a near-tragedy prompted it, but I’ve savoured these weeks with you like I’ve savoured nothing before. Just...Living with you, day by day, was so...Exciting. Fulfilling. I haven’t felt like this since we were all a team together, and even then...”
She looked back up to his eyes, cocking out the opposite hip as she shifted her weight to one foot, lightly tilting her head to the side as she raised her eyebrows, a little more. “I know you don’t want to be a vampire,” she murmured. “I know you think it’s a curse, and that it only produces monsters. I know that this isn’t how you imagined you’d live your life. I know you hate it, and I know it disgusts you...But I just wonder, do you understand what this meant to me?...I may not have had any choice at the time, Max, but I didn’t turn you lightly!...” “I realize you didn’t,” Max patiently cut in, brow gently furrowing as he lightly gestured off to the side with a hand.
Sabrina looked a touch anguished as she gently asserted “You’re the only person I’ve ever willingly infected, the only person I’d want to spend forever with, and when it only disgusts you...Don’t you see how much that hurts me? I-I know you don’t like the feeding aspect, and I know you miss the sun, but...You’ll be immortal, and we could be together forever.” Max’s jaw briefly clenched a little, his eyes momentarily drifting of to the side. Barely shaking her head, a teardrop creeping from the corner of her right eye, Sabrina mumbled “Doesn’t that exchange give you pause?...Doesn’t it give you any, at all?”
He looked her in the eyes, drew in a breath, and calmly breathed back out “Sabrina, listen, we’ve talked about this a bunch of times, now. I realize how you feel, but-” Sabrina interjected before he could get too deep into what felt like an obvious rebuff. Continuing her train of thought, her voice began to tighten as she shifted her weight to the other foot. “I’ve never loved anyone like I’ve loved you, certainly no man. I care about you so much, you’re constantly on my mind. I...If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have tried to shelter you after I infected you, I would’ve cast you into the wild without any guidance.” Max’s brow furrowed, again, as he answered “And if I didn’t care for your company, Sabrina, I wouldn’t have stuck around, all this time.”
Some vigour drained from Sabrina’s eyes. They went half-closed, dropping crestfallen to his lips, only rising after a couple moments. Why did she get the feeling that this wasn’t going anywhere positive? She kept the tremble away from her chin as she mumbled “I’m sure you likely would’ve managed well, but...I needed to ensure it. I needed to protect you. When I saw you struggling to get to the bottom of what happened to Gabriella, I knew how much it hurt you, and it hurt me, too. It still hurts you, and all I want to do is help, but no matter what I do, you just push me away. You just...Push it all away.”
At the mention of Gabriella, Max tried to say something, but he barely got out a syllable before he was begrudgingly going silent again, listening to the rest of what she had to say. She watched the way his brow knit, as if he were conflicted. Confused, perhaps? Watching her eyes, he raised his hands to chest-level and slowly gestured out to the sides with them both, firmly stating “Sabrina, what in Oblivion do you want me to say? Why do you keep bringing her up? What’s there to talk about? What’s done is done. How many times do I need to tell you that there’s nothing to discuss? I know you love me, I know you’re worried, but I don’t want to talk about her. It isn’t going to help anything.”
As Sabrina’s eyes stung, her vision blurred until, all at once, the blur drained down across her cheekbones. She silently swallowed to steady her voice, then more confidently asserted “I know you loved her, Max. I understand that talking about her hurts. I know I’m not Gabriella, and I’m not trying to replace her or make you forget her, but I love you, too, and it tears at me how it seems like nothing I do or say really helps you.” His jaw tightened, his brow furrowing hard. He briefly looked down from her eyes, then off to the side, then met her’s, again. She raised her hand from her hip to the center of her chest, and the heartfelt offer finally put the quiver in her chin: “If you’d just talk to me, I’d listen. If you’d just give me a chance, I’d give you everything.”
She balled her hand into a loose fist over her cleavage, looking away from his eyes, dropping her chin until only his legs were in her peripheral vision. “Just being with you makes me so happy, I...I never want it to end. I don’t want to cure you...I want us to be together, forever.” With a weak smile and a shrug of her shoulders, she looked back up to his eyes, blinking away more tears as she confessed “I thought maybe you’d grow to accept the condition with time, just as I did, but...” She drew in a breath to try and steady herself, then dropped her hand back down to her hip. A moment later, she was loosely crossing her arms over her stomach.
“If you still want to be cured,” she offered, “I have the ritual plotted out. I finished looking in to all the necessary precautions, earlier. There’s nothing left...No excuses to look in to, no delays to deal with. We can do it now, or...Whenever you’re ready...” Max didn’t seem surprised to hear that the ritual was at last possible. Perhaps he had already, quite rightly, assumed that nothing else would explain this emotional gesture. Sabrina’s lips quivered into a frown. She barely shook her head, keeping it together long enough to mumble “Just know that these past few weeks, I’ve been happier than I’ve been in centuries. Living with you was as contenting as I’d imagined it’d be...”
She gave a shivering sigh, an almost-sob, as tears riddled her cheeks more frequently. “And, I’ll still love you,” she insisted, voice choking up, “even if you t-take the cure. I just wanted you to know...I don’t ever want to lose you, and if you take the cure, I will lose you, some day!” Max drew in a deep breath, expression steady as he slowly exhaled. She didn’t say anything more. She was finished. Max didn’t answer for several moments, but eventually, he began to walk towards her. She looked down; she was ashamed. She hadn’t wanted it to turn out this way. She had only wanted to tell him how she felt, then offer him the cure. Whether or not it had made any difference, she had only wanted to make her thoughts known. The tears added nothing positive.
Although it surprised her when he came up and slipped his arms around her shoulders, she didn’t flinch, didn’t push him away. “Look at you,” he remarked, somewhat quietly. “Bawling your eyes out like a pup. All because of this?” His tone was far from derisive. Sabrina touched her forehead to his shoulder, uncrossing her arms just enough to feebly hold his waist, too unsteady to hug him back. “I’m not going anywhere,” he offered. “You’re not losing anything. You’re acting as if getting cured means I’m gonna drop dead. I thought you were tougher than this. You’re getting worked up over nothing, you big baby.”
“It’s not nothing,” she stubbornly blubbered, finally finding the will to loop her arms around his waist. She held him tight, squeezing harder and harder, as if he’d simply fade away if she were to let go. He drew in another deep breath, letting out a long, weary sigh. At first, his quiet tone was comforting. “Look at you,” he repeated. “C’mon. Knock this off. You’ve lived for how long, now? You know more about Magicka than anyone I’ve ever met. You could take on three Briarhearts and a whole team of Thalmor soldiers all on your own, and you’re crying about me?”
“Don’t patronize me, this is serious,” Sabrina muttered, pressing the lower half of her face against the side of his neck, needily spacing her fingers apart across his back, holding him more securely. He grinned, raising one of his hands to the back of her head, sinking his fingers into her thick, soft locks. “I’m hardly being patronizing,” he dryly refuted. “I just think this is a little ridiculous. I know you love me, fang-face, but getting cured of this thing isn’t going to kill me. I’ll still be around for a long time...Well, hopefully, anyway. That’s the plan. Life’s unpredictable. All the more reason to live every day to the fullest. Don’t take shit from anyone, have fun, get paid, and spend time with the people you care about, the people who’re fun to be around.”
Dropping his voice to a teasing mutter, he ruffled his hand through her hair, holding back a chuckle as he pointed out “That includes you, in case you’re too fucking daft to figure it out.” Sabrina couldn’t help but smile. He vocalized her thoughts, remarking “...For somebody so smart, you sure can be brainless about people. I would’ve thought you’d be too put-together for this kind of insecurity.” Sabrina sniffled, finally shifting her chin up to rest over his shoulder. Keeping her eyes closed, she mumbled “I just don’t want to lose you...”
“You’re not going to,” he reassured, ruffling her hair a second time.
“But, if you’re mortal...!”
“I don’t think there are a whole lot of things or people in this world who’re actually going to manage living until the end times, Sabrina,” Max remarked, his tone going a bit wry.
She sniffled. “But, it’d give us so much more time together, if you just stayed this way!...”
“And I’m sure it’d be one damn good time,” Max readily reassured. “But, it’s just not what I want. This world is hardly worth eternity. Did you always have your hopes pinned on this sort of thing? You never said anything about it, besides that one time you offered to make me a vampire.” Sabrina confessed the truth quite readily. Drawing in a breath, she felt herself gently compress against him, deflating in his strong arms as she sighed. “No,” she mumbled. “...Possibly. But, if so, I never dared entertain the idea. But, after I turned you, the thought was there: this could be it. Maybe we could be together forever. I know you said you didn’t want to be a vampire, but I thought...Maybe you’d change your mind once it sank in.”
“Little romantic, you are,” Max teased, grinning wider. Sabrina pouted a little, gently slapping a hand against the small of his back. Slowly, he began releasing her, and she reluctantly stopped pressing the full length of her body to his. They met eyes as she raised a hand, barely swiping a couple fingertips across her right cheek, trying to brush away her tears. She paused when Max raised a hand to her other cheek, brushing across her cheek with his thumb. With a teasing smile, he remarked “How many times are you going to have to fix your makeup, today?”
She barely furrowed her brow, shifting her hand from her cheek to her spectacles, adjusting their positioning over the bridge of her nose. Stubbornly, she muttered “As many times as it takes.” He smirked, watched her eyes for a moment, then reassuringly said “So...Bear in mind that I’ll be around for a long while, yet. You’re not losing anything. Not today, at least. And, who knows...Maybe some day, I’ll change my mind.” Sabrina broke out into a smile, chuckling. Her eyes easing half-closed, she turned her head a little, looking off to the side. In a resigned, if good-natured, mumble, she remarked “You’re not going to change your mind. You know that.”
He eased his hand over, took her by the chin, pointed her face back towards him, leaned in, and pressed a deep kiss to her lips. She drew in a light breath through her nose as she reciprocated, closing her eyes until he eased back. Furrowing his brow, he smiled and muttered “I can’t believe I have to say this, I would’ve thought it’d be self-evident, but I can spend a lot of that time with whoever I want. Put that big brain to work on that puzzle.” Sabrina smiled, her eyes dropping to his chin. He drifted his hand over to the side of her neck, and she raised her’s to his chest, gently laying her palms against his skin. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe she really had been reaching for too much.
As much as she would’ve loved to be with him forever...Forever would’ve made him miserable. He didn’t want to be forever. She had to understand that. As happy as it would’ve made her, the lynchpin of the fantasy were that he was happy, too. If he despised it, it simply defeated the purpose. It wasn’t even a matter of asking him to sacrifice his own happiness for her’s - what she wanted simply wasn’t feasible without destroying itself. As enjoyable as these past few weeks had been, Max’s distaste with vampirism had brought her pain in equal measure. She needed to let it go. He had his own path, and it made him happy. That didn’t mean she had to hurt...Not when his path might run parallel to her’s.
Sabrina looked a little uncertain as she mentally grappled with the leap of faith she were about to make. Looking him in the eyes, the words sounded foreign as she spoke them, her lips barely shifting as she asked “Do you love me?” He slowly glanced skyward without shifting his head, his eyes wearily going half-closed. His furrowed brow relaxing, his smile faded as he muttered “Shor’s bones, do I really have to say the words? Shouldn’t my actions speak for themselves? You’re the only girl I’ve known who needed everything laid out for her.” A touch wearily, he added “If I didn’t care about you, if I didn’t care how you felt, I wouldn’t have just stood here and listened to you vent for a couple minutes straight, then tried to settle you back down. Use your head. I don’t waste my time with people who don’t matter to me.”
Sabrina smiled widely, dropping her chin, letting her hands slip from his chest. She supposed he had a point. Max subtly drew in a breath, rolled his eyes, and smiled wider. He leaned in, easing her a little closer towards him with the hand he kept on the side of her neck. Bringing his mouth by her ear, he quietly said “You know how I feel. I don’t need to say it. Now get that damn ritual ready before I bend you over my knee and spank the white off your ass for wasting so much of my time.” A warm, misty sensation filled Sabrina’s chest. Maybe he was right...He didn’t need to say the words when the intent was so clear. She looked back up into his eyes, smiling from ear to ear as her eyes glistened. She gave a nod, then hurried to do his bidding.
Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe their original routes in life were the premier choices, after all. Maybe they had naturally travelled the paths that would make them the happiest. If he at least lived with her...If he were happy doing it...Nothing would complete her more. And if he needed this to be happy, then...She needed to give it to him.
Within minutes, the ritual was ready. She cleared her reading table of the stacks of grimoires overtop, threw off the tablecloth, and set six red candles, three in a curved row on either side of the table. In grand designs of arcane symbols and runes, Sabrina drew out the rites of the ritual across the table’s wooden surface with Void Salts, preparing the framework for the siphoning of Max’s disease, the curse plaguing his flesh and soul. He stood to one side of the table, while she took her post across from him. At her behest, he placed his hands near the center of the table, in clearings on either side of a large symbol she had deftly drawn with Void Salts.
Then, producing a smooth chunk of black crystal, she placed it over the center of the table, then instructed Max to lean forward until his face were above it. Once he had acquiesced, Sabrina began the ritual. Her posture becoming more rigid, the nude vampire worked to cleanse her lover of the taint befouling them both, to return true life to his flesh, to bring his soul back under the rightful sphere of Arkay. Raising her hands by her sides, swirling purple-black magic filled her palms, miniature abysses of Magicka so common to Conjuration.
She briefly closed her eyes, lips silently shifting in some incantation. After a pause, she opened her eyes and abruptly thrust her hands out towards him. The Magicka in her hands tore apart into dozens of tiny thread-like tendrils, firing into and around Maximus, briefly enwreathing him before giving his body an unsettling purple aura. He briefly winced, momentarily curling his lip up as the Magicka tethers latched on to something inside, something deep, something immaterial. Sabrina immediately began to gesticulate by her sides with her arms, slowly waving them about as a more intense glow filled either hand, sweeping up her arms like mist.
The Void Salts designed about the table turned from black to white with sudden light, emitting a luminescence as Sabrina’s ambient Magicka charged the ritual design. Brow furrowing, teeth baring enough to expose her fangs, she growled as her arms came closer together. Then, with a grunt, she thrust them towards Max once more, prompting a bright flash to momentarily blind him. Instantly, a searing pain washed across his skin, nearly making him bark. Within a moment, he abruptly felt as if he were being immolated, as if his body were combusting...As if the blood in his veins were boiling anew.
He nearly pulled back from the table, but Sabrina hastened to hold his hands down on either side of the soul gem, pleading for him not to move. He tried to open his eyes, but all he could see was blindingly bright colour. Sabrina watched, stunned, as a second face separated from Max’s, a thin, bloody red visage copied after his, steadily dragged downwards towards the soul gem. The second face turned Sabrina’s blood to ice, but she couldn’t bear tear her eyes away. The spectral light could only be described as Maximus, were he to ever give in to the curse: harsh bags under his mad eyes, a roaring, furious snarl, raging at this defeat. A beast, little else.
Her brow furrowed as she watched the face stretch itself closer and closer towards the soul gem, siphoned down into the waiting prison. Tendrils of red light stretched taut between the spectral copy of Max’s face and the real thing, but after a moment, they withered and split. The transparent red face gave one more silent roar before abruptly zooming down into the black soul gem, causing it to emit a brief, piercing purple light. In an instant, the ritual had been completed. Max, face a bit shiny with perspiration, collapsed from the table with a grunt, dropping down to sit on the floor. The Void Salts stopped glowing over the table, and Sabrina, teeth on edge, brought a fist up high, then slammed it down into the table with enough force to loudly rattle the poor thing.
Not only did her fist produce a gust of wind strong enough to blow out the candles and banish the Void Salts in all directions like dust, but she crushed straight through the soul gem like her fist were a blacksmith’s hammer, shattering the thing into tiny black shards beneath her clenched fingers. Her expression quickly softened as she opened her hand and lifted it up from the wood of the table’s surface, eyeing the heavy pieces left behind, the hunks, some large, some small, of dark crystal. Her eyes rose to Max as she delicately brushed her other hand across the underside of her fist, sweeping away whatever little shards still clung to her skin. That did it, then...The process had been a success. Max was...
Sabrina hastened to his side, rounding the table until she could kneel by his left flank. She watched, fascinated, a queer mix of dismay and relief filling her. Colour was already returning to his skin, and so quickly, in fact, it was perceptible, even. The dark circles around his eyes were lightening, and before her very eyes, the warm glow of life reignited in his chest, steadily spreading out across his torso and limbs like a red fog. He opened his eyes with a strained grunt, but readily went along with her efforts when she began to help him up to his feet. Supporting him with his arm across her shoulders, she looked over and watched his face as he eyed the table, staring at the broken shards littering the wooden surface.
His eyes had returned to their true dark colour, and his fangs had receded into ordinary canine teeth. He was well and truly human, once again. Softly, she asked “How do you feel?...” He cleared his throat, turning his head in her direction even as his eyes remained locked on the soul gem fragments. Clearly a little dazed, he muttered “I feel...Like dirt, to be honest. I don’t know. It’s mostly my eyes...I feel like I need to wash them out.” Sabrina lightly arched her eyebrows. In a mumble, she answered only with a simple “You’re mortal...” Max started to smirk, and it wasn’t long before it spread into a big, smug smile. Finally turning his eyes over to her, he rumbled “...It took you weeks to prepare that little thing?”
Sabrina gave a sigh through a good-natured smile. He was back to himself, back to the Max she used to know. She helped him over to her bed, suggesting to him he might need time to recover. After weeks of undeath, returning to the realm of the truly living couldn’t have been easy, she sympathetically offered. And, after he rested, she supposed he’d want to be on his way. His armour still needed repairs, after all, and he had largely been cooped up in her den, the last couple weeks. With nothing keeping him there, he probably wanted to get out and stretch his legs. Max’s joking answer surprised her: “What, eager to be rid of me, now?”
Sabrina seemed confused. When she understood what he was implying, she beamed.
“...Svetlana, Tiger, I hope this missive finds you both well. This message comes from both Maximus and myself. We wanted to let you know that if you had sent any messages to him in the last couple weeks, he hasn’t yet had the opportunity to read and respond to them, but he will in the near future. He’s been a guest in my den the last few weeks, and hasn’t been able to visit his usual contacts as of yet. He plans on spending the next couple months here with me, so in the meantime, you may want to send your missives to him through my usual courier. He plans on collecting whatever messages you may have sent during his first excursion for supplies.
How have the days fared, Tiger? No trouble from mountaineers or Orcs, I trust? I recently stumbled across a text of alchemical recipes that I thought you may have been interested in, so I held on to it. I’ll attach it with your copy of this letter. Enjoy, but please...Do be more careful with your recipes for improved endurance and stamina, in the future. Your dedication to crafting aphrodisiacs is laudable, but that last one you sent was too effective. Too much of a good thing can eventually create an exhausting and distressing ordeal.
How goes the new work in Hammerfell, Lana? If I didn’t know you so well, I’d assume that last story you detailed had to have been fabricated. Truth is stranger than fiction, as they say. There’s no end to your shenanigans, is there? No, before you ask, I did not deign to masturbate to the story, and as per your request in your prior missive, no, I will not send you a vial of my seed to be used in any sort of fertility rite. Max wants me to write that if you want a vial of my anything, you’ll have to come up here and get it, yourself. I will, however, attach an amulet of Mara with your copy of this missive. I recall you saying you couldn’t find a new one in Hammerfell, so I hope you enjoy having some small reminder of home.
Max and I both wish to extend to the two of you an invitation to visit us at any time, in the coming months. It’d be nice to have any three, or all four, of us together, again.
Warm regards,
Sabrina & Maximus”
Max held her hips tight as he slid on in, pushing his lotion-smeared skewer deeper and deeper into his pet vampire’s girly hole, making her mewl as his inches dug further into her warm, velvety confines. He had the submissive t-girl on her knees at the edge of her bed, those heaving tits of her’s down to the blanket, head held low to better stick her big, thick, round ass nice and high up, presenting a ripe opportunity to her man that he simply couldn’t resist abusing. Her arms spread out past her head and across the bed, her knees were spaced apart, while her calves were spread wide enough apart for him to stand between them, keeping her defenceless - the better for him to dominate her, of course.
Her chin to the bed, she shut her eyes and curled her toes as the long, thick, oh so hot violator packing up her hungry backdoor began to bottom out, making her descend into a low, guttural groan of satisfaction, the noise a breathy exhale between those puffy lips of her’s. The pressure on her magic spot was as incredible as ever, and the feeling of being so full was more than enough to get her dripping her feminine syrup; her meaty, ring-adorned prick, so veiny and rigid, speared down towards the bed, as stiff as iron to match the battering ram violating her cushiony tush. Like the girly slut she was, she was already oozing a nice, fat droplet of clear sap over the end of her hanging pole, coaxed out even faster than usual by the presence of the prick flipping her bitch-switch.
When he pressed his lap right up against her, her thighs gently quivered once or twice, tempted to draw closer together. He bottomed out until his balls were pressing against her, behind her own swollen, dense pair, dangling in a taut beanbag - the sensation was more than enough to turn her glassy-eyed, the vampire giving a shuddering, high-pitched moan as she turned her head and rested the side of her face down against the bed. She was ready for the long haul. Max grinned as he eased his hips back, watching his rigid claymore slowly slide back out from between those over-padded seat cushions, either one covered over in bright red hand prints.
She was his, forever and always. Perhaps not literally as she may have once hoped, but figuratively, as close to concrete truth as she could get without diminishing him. In hindsight, she may very well have already been walking that road, prior to his bout of vampirism. Now, however, things were...Less vague. She was his fang-face, his sorceress ally, his unspeakable paramour, his happily feminized butt-slut with curves to beat any potential challenger...And she always would be. She was never going to replace Gabriella, nor did she want to. Perhaps she had already been helping Max, just by being there for him. Perhaps he didn’t need to talk about her - he was one with his grief, but all the same, he was far from alone. His relationship with Gabriella had been too private, too special; it needed to be his burden, alone.
He didn’t give her much time to warm up. He promptly started up a steady rhythm, feeling her ring yawn around his shaft as he eased back and forth, encouraging her well-used pucker to loosen up for yet another round of sweet, sweet sodomy. She was as tight as ever, as snug as a glove, each flex of her insides a clamping vise to embrace his presence...To needily crush her prostate against him. With every thrust back and forth through her sphincter, her ring became more accustomed to his presence, loosening up in acceptance of the act subjected to her bottom. Within a couple minutes, she had relaxed, quietly groaning and moaning as Max thrust against her, lightly rocking her hips every time he slapped home.
This was all she really needed. His love, his affections, his companionship. That, combined with the intellectual satisfaction of delving into the far reaches of Magicka’s full expanse?...She needed nothing more. Some wished for wealth, power, or glory. Such fantasies were trite for the sorceress. Wealth was transient, power was fleeting, and glory was subjective. She didn’t want anything grand, let alone anything that would draw undue attention. No, she only wanted the simplest of things: love, that which made life worth living. How dull and dreary her existence had been, at one point. With love, with Max, the world was sweeter. Let it never end.
Even by her first anal orgasm, he showed no signs of stopping. Even as she teared up in pleasure and descended into closed-eyes panting, even as the milky sap began to flow like a slow cream from her cock, waving back and forth beneath her body from the force of his thrusts, he failed to slow down. If anything, feeling her clamp and clench up extra hard during her climax only encouraged him to keep going, the man giving an amused, contented chuckle as he continued plowing her. Before she had even finished, he was changing her position. Putting her down on her side, he flipped open her legs, holding one of them up by his shoulder before he resumed reaming her out. Sabrina could only rest her head back and tag along for the ride.
She was certain of it, in her heart and soul: she’d never love another man like she loved Max. As fantastic as sex with men was, she genuinely didn’t know if she’d ever find another man who aroused the same level of need in her as Maximus did. Likely no other man would have with her the precise alchemy that Max had. Even if another man looked the same, treated her the same, and behaved the same, he wouldn’t have been there for the things Max had been present for, he wouldn’t represent to Sabrina the same thing Max did. Old habits died hard, and she might one day resort to seducing women while feeding, without him in her life...
But, the truth will always linger beneath the surface. She knew what she truly wanted. She was long past the point of trying to hide it from herself. She had never particularly cared for women, but pleasure was pleasure, and they could serve in a pinch. That was neither here nor there, however. Right now, Sabrina was in cloud nine, struggling to cope with and satisfy her lover’s big prick, oh so happily enduring his intensifying efforts, his aggressive domination. By the time she had her second anal orgasm, they were both covered in a fine sheen of sweat, her lust-lost eyes sightlessly watching him thrust beside her upraised leg, taking her like the Anal Queen she was.
She pressed her lips tight together, then closed her eyes as she bit her bottom lip, whimpering urgently as her rump descended into fresh flexes. Her rigid prick gave a little hop, her bloated balls barely shifted in her big beanbag, and then, in a gloriously submissive display of femininity, fresh slop began to slowly pour and drip from the end of her rod to run across her thigh, coaxed out of her big cock not by hands, but by the nice, deep massage filling her rear door. Sabrina stopped biting her lip, letting her puffy lips form a nice little “o” as she breathed a little ragged, trying her best not to flex her cock in order to prolong the slow sensation of the ooze. Max smirked to himself. He wasn’t even panting. He always did have leagues more stamina than her.
He slid all the way in, hilting her like a bitch in heat, giving an appreciative hum as he firmly ground himself around, digging about inside her to feel the way she squeezed, tightened up. The move got her to whimper, her hands clenching at the blanket beneath her as she uncontrollably flexed her cock, prompting a short dribble to squirt out of her, emptying the rest of her second climax across her thick thigh. Max grinned, then began to withdraw, sliding himself all the way out of her tailpipe, savouring the sensation of her pucker sliding past the crown of his tip, gulping just before he was out. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, mouth lightly hanging ajar, eyes dewy with pleasure. He wasn’t done, was he?...He couldn’t be, he hadn’t even cum, yet!
Max’s eyes surveyed the landscape. Those fantastic tits of her’s were shimmering with sweat, either nipple poking out hard enough to be a hazard, standing firm like pebbles over her big, pink areolae. Either globe gently shifted with each of her hard breaths, and some locks of her bangs, too, were matted down to her forehead. Her spectacles were in danger of slipping from her nose, but she was in no rush to fix them. Her rather impressive manhood, decorated at the base with an ebony ring, posed as a rapt audience, stiff as a board and riddled with veins. Behind that plump undercarriage, her pucker yawned open, helplessly gaping in a lovely pit the size of a Septim. Mm...She really was beautiful, and she was all his.
With a grin, he offered her a chance to be on top, instructing “Get in my lap. Let’s see you bounce.” Sabrina was too far gone to even smile, but she readily moved to comply as he laid down, propping himself up on his elbows next to her. Without hesitation, she put a knee across his waist, straddling him, nearly pushing her bosom into his face in the process. She reached down between the two of them, found his lotion-smeared tool, lined him back up with her sweet maidenhood, and began sinking her hips, closing her eyes and sighing as his presence reentered her void. Letting go of him, she held his shoulders, sitting down in his lap until her smooth undercarriage were pressing against his mons, her own battering ram pressing between them against his stomach.
It wasn’t long after she started shaking her hips that she was huffing, face flushing with exertion as she took the reins of her own ramming. He slowly grinned, eyes half-closed as he laid himself down all the way, threading his hands together behind his head as he enjoyed the show. She leaned over him a little, her hands sliding down to his collar bones, mouth hanging ajar with eyes closed to slits, her every exhale becoming a shuddering moan. She urgently thrust herself back against him, slapping her rump down into his lap, smooshing her beanbag against him on every drop, helplessly slapping her engorged prick against his stomach.
He watched as, in a moment of clarity, her eyes found his. She breathlessly smiled, then laid down overtop him far enough to bring her lips to his, firm nipples pressing into his chest as her hefty bust rested against him. He had his fun, sliding his tongue between her lips, meeting her between their mouths for a coiling, an oral wrestling match he inevitably won. As he withdrew, she whimpered in her throat, closing her lips on the tip of his tongue, suckling at it until he was gone. Then, she gave his lower lip a nibble, her every breath a hot puff against his cheek until she was finally sitting upright, again. Looking down at him, dew at the corners of her eyes, blushing red horn spearing up into the air from the center of her lap, she begged for the end.
“Max, I...Oh, gods, I really wanna cum! C-Can I cum? Can I pump my cock?” Her voice going small, her bottom lip quivering, she whimpered “Oh, Julianos, please...I need to cum...C-Can you shoot it up my ass when I cum?” Max hummed, slowly looking off through the corners of his eyes as he considered the desperate request. Sabrina’s eyes began to cross, steadily rolling upwards. Her jaw briefly clenching, she began to bounce her hips harder, faster, veritably slamming her body against his. Her mouth beginning to hang open in a silent moan, she begged one more time, the clenches in her backdoor already becoming sporadic. In a strained, urgent whimper, she hissed “Sir, please? Please!”
“Oh, alright,” Max begrudgingly agreed, much to Sabrina’s immediate and shiver-inducing relief. Shutting her eyes, she immediately reached down and grabbed her prick with her left hand, furiously beating her meat. Her thighs began to tremble as her body tightened up, coiling like a spring. Her moans turned tighter, higher, her long hair spilling off of her shoulders as she threw herself into the final stretch. Max’s breathing briefly spiked as he allowed himself to approach the edge. Still, even when he was trying to finish up, he nonetheless had more endurance than Sabrina. After already enduring two anal orgasms, pulling her cock so fiercely didn’t just kick her over the edge, it veritably punted her.
Uncontrollably, she briefly hung her head back, eyes shut as she bared and grit her teeth. Max could feel her contractions intensify, her muscles squeezing down as the nice, round bump of her prostate swelled against him, the butt-slut’s special little P-spot crushing itself against his shaft in a muscly knot. She whimpered urgently, her voice going so high she nearly squeaked. Getting the bright idea to help keep himself out of the line of fire, Max propped himself up on his elbows, again - if her bitch-batter went any higher than the ribs, they’d have a fucking problem. He would’ve just warned her not to aim her goop northward, but something told him she was already a little too lost to properly take direction. Opening her eyes, she looked down between them, tears trickling in thin shimmers from the corners of her eyes.
She erupted like a geyser, the first wad flinging itself past her fist to splatter against his stomach, splashing with such force it immediately ran towards his hip. She tried to keep rocking her hips throughout her orgasm, but she couldn’t get in more than a couple pumps before, legs quaking, she sat herself down nice and deep, keeping him hilted inside herself. He briefly shut his eyes, offering a contented grunt as her flexing brought him past the point of no return. With a brief sigh, he began unloading, firing off a few streamers of his own deep inside. When she felt it, he knew; her entire body quaked with a shudder. The warm slime sneezed from her meaty prick in two more ropes against his stomach, but then she was done, ass throbbing in the afterglow as her man finished filling her up with his own helping of seed.
He opened his eyes before she did, breathing considerably less ragged than her. They met eyes, and although he barely shrugged with his eyebrows, she smiled dreamily. She eased herself close enough to lock lips with him, silently sighing against his cheek as they descended into another oral wrestling match. Idly giving her prick a few slow little strokes as she rode down her high, she uncontrollably flexed her ass in tiny spasms and twitches, milking him just a little bit more. Slowly, he laid back down, bringing her with him by slipping one hand to her lower back. She shifted her head to the side, fresh tears creeping from her eyes as she steamily kissed beside his mouth, smudging her lipstick in the process. Breathing the words out, she mumbled “Ohh, Max...”
The pillow talk was short, but sweet. The day had been more draining than usual, and for both of them, to boot. A rest was in order. Max, laying over his back, had one hand behind his head, the other arm loosely draped across his stomach. Sabrina, snuggled up close to his side, kept a leg between his, propping herself up on an elbow until she could rest the side of her head in her hand. The other hand, meanwhile, daintily stroked across his chest, occasionally circling or drawing little symbols, occasionally easing the tips of her fingernails across his skin. Lips forming a tender smile, bedroom eyes half-closed, Sabrina watched his face as she murmured a simple “I love you.”
Max barely arched an eyebrow, glancing sidelong at her before looking back up at the ceiling. Just as simply, he answered “I know you do.” She smiled wider. Her eyes briefly dipped down before going back up to his eyes. Her voice soft and gentle, she confessed “...I hope you don’t hold it against me, but I want to tell you the truth.” Her brow gently knitted, her eyes going a hint unsure. “I, um...I likely could’ve cured you a lot earlier on. As in...I probably could’ve cured you the day after you were infected.” Max promptly gave a deep, quiet sigh. Smiling high, he shifted his hand out from under his head, brought it over to her chest, found a nipple, and pinched, hard.
Sabrina winced, sucking in a hiss of a gasp. He sounded amused - not a good sign. Still looking at the ceiling, he held back a chuckle as he roughly tweaked her, dryly remarking “I am holding it against you. You just earned yourself another spanking. Harder this time.” She flinched when he pulled her nipple, blurting out “I-I only did it because I wanted you to live with me!” Max seemed to consider this, giving a thoughtful “Hrm” before letting go of her nipple, much to her relief. He waited a moment before, his voice dropping to a mutter and his smile fading, he remarked “Still wasn’t alright...You little bitch. You made me wait weeks. You’re going to have to make this up to me. The idea that you let everything happen...”
Sabrina didn’t reject the idea. Looking a little forlorn, she rested her hand against his chest, murmuring “That’s fair...What can I do? I am sorry. I wanted to see if you’d come to accept it, just as I did...It was a little devious of me.” Max lightly raised his eyebrows, laconically chiming out “I don’t know just yet, but I’ll think of something, don’t you worry.” They went silent for a couple seconds, but eventually, Sabrina began to smile from ear to ear. Raising her hand higher, she playfully dabbed a fingertip against his chin, gently running it down underneath, following his jaw. A little teasingly, she remarked “...Well, at the very least, now you know what it’s really like, to a certain extent. If you ever decide to change your mind on the affair, you can consider the time spent...Mm...Training.”
Again, he raised an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile crossing him as his eyes shifted over in her direction. Grinning a little, Sabrina murmured “And, who knows?...Maybe one day, I’ll change my mind.”
Max smiled wider. “You’re not going to change your mind,” he flatly declared. “You know that.”
She grinned wide enough to show off her fangs. She leaned in, puckered up, and pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek.

(Author's Note - Shazam! Hoo, here you guys go, a new Forsworn Retribution bonus chapter. :D This one was inspired by a request that came in on Adult Fanfiction, asking for Maximus to be a vampire with Sabrina. I hope you guys enjoyed having more Sabrina, and seeing her with Maximus. ^_^ This chapter was pretty fun to write. In this what-if scenario, although Max becomes a vampire, he never changes his mind on it, and for reasons that aren’t explicitly clear, he has no interest in immortality, regardless of the fact that he’d get to spend it with Sabrina.
Ultimately, it seems to boil down to a philosophical difference: Max isn’t afraid of death and wants to go to Sovngarde, whereas Sabrina values life and finds immortality to be an amazing power. In the end, although Maximus has himself cured, Sabrina still makes a heartfelt confession of how much she’s enjoyed her time with him, and assures him she isn’t trying to replace Gabby. This does seem to make an impact on Max...And, he’s evidently become a little accustomed to living with her, because he’s ready to spend a few more months with her. :D I wonder what they’ll get up to, every day~
I hope this chapter made for a fun read! :) I’m going to be honest, guys. I’ve been considering making this the final bonus. I don’t really want FR to overstay the welcome, you know? I’d be fine with capping the bonuses at four. We got to see a what-if where Gabby didn’t perish and got to go on with Max, a what-if where Gabby did perish and Max was comforted by Sabrina, a what-if where Anya finally got her own fully-fledged sex scene, and a more self-indulgent what-if featuring a transgender threesome. What do you guys think? I think the first three covered some bases a few people probably wanted to see, and the fourth, at least, was a lot of fun to write. :D
Anyway, I really hope this made for a fun read! If you enjoyed it, feel free to drop me a line in a comment and tell me what you thought, I love hearing from you guys! See you later!)
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The Forsworn Retribution