Chapter Text
Dear, Y/N,
We inform You that Your contract with the College of Winterhold has been suspended. You are no longer to attend the classes of Conjuration under the instructor Philis Gestor. Please vacate Hall of Attainment with Your belongings within the next week.
Signed by Arch-Mage Savos Aren.
Well, that’s that. I toss the short note left on my bed into the trash. Uncle won’t be happy about that. Yet I can’t help grinning. Serves him right – try it again and watch me bring shame upon our family name again. With a newfound hop in my step, I pack my bags. Somehow in the passing months I managed to collect a decent amount of garbage, compared to what I came with. Yeah, don’t need any more scrolls are quills, these robes can go too.
I already mastered conjuration in my short span here. If anything, the suspension came at the best time to hit the road before I become stuck as professor’s research slave.
- - - - - - - -
Skyrim hasn’t changed in the months of my study. Much like its people – rigid and uninviting. Winter is approaching, it’s right time to start thinking of a thicker coat. Whole two seasons have passed since I left college. To my surprise, no mercenaries came to chuck my ass back to Morrowind. Not even an angry letter disowning me from the family. Truly nothing. It kind of feels unsettling. Or maybe I got too used to adult intervention. Has he really given up hope in me…?
Perhaps that’s just what happens when you choose to be a Daedra worshipper. It definitely isn’t an esteemed position. Not like cultists can open temples in the middle of cities how Aedra followers do. Those weirdos form their own little bubbles in which they distance from the common folk. I don’t belong to said type. Though I can’t be blamed – Mehrune himself ordered me to kill a fellow member. Besides, what worshipper would want someone who has no interest in the God besides f*cking his subordinates. One to be exact.
Dothrax is the name of the unbound dremora that has become awfully familiar with me. He didn’t have to wait long before I summoned him again. The memory of him smiling sinisterly makes my core throb. It’s this weakness of mine that made him appear time and time and time again. First, the remote cellar, then the dormitory while everyone was out for lectures. The last straw was when Dothrax appeared on his own volition. Meanwhile I was in the library during late hours. Urag hadn’t left his post, so I dragged the dremora upstairs. It was quite nostalgic getting railed there again. I came so hard all over his co*ck when I saw a light source emerge from the Hall of Countenance.
Free from my studies and out on my own, I became more and more reliant on Dothrax. At first, I would ask for his help with a larger group of targets I couldn’t take out in isolation. He would gladly take my body as payment right there and then. Dig into my hips with his hands coated in fresh blood after the deed was done. As time went on, I would gradually find even more lenient excuses to summon him. Just for the thrill of getting f*cked in a shed, where the unarmed owner’s corpse lies besides us. Or find a lonely corner in a bandit camp. Dothrax claimed me whilst my targets wandered around. With each step I heard approaching closer, my puss* would clench tighter around the dremora’s pulsing co*ck.
Last time I called Dothrax was a week ago. I had curled into my bedroll after the fire went out for the night. Cold had started to seep through the fur and into my skin. Along rose a sharp pain in my chest. I could not identify what it was. But it made me want to cuddle into my knees. As soon as I did that, a headache started brooding. Causing my eyes to water involuntarily. My mind briefly went back to home, to Morrowind. Should I have finished college? Would uncle have been satisfied had I done just that? But I chucked that thought out before it grew any further. In its stead appeared more recent memories. Especially the warmth of that dremora’s arms.
“Dothrax…” – I called his name.
“What is it, mortal?” – the unbound creature emerged – “There are no enemies to slay here.”
“I know…” – I said, already regretting my actions – “Just. Stay here for a little while. That is all.”
Dothrax listened to my command. He squeezed himself under covers, most likely ripping the fabric with his sharp armor. But it didn’t matter, as I already felt his warmth spread around me. Of course, dremora’s hands soon began roaming my body, searching their way under the thick clothing. I didn’t protest. I wasn’t particularly feeling like having sex at the time. But he made the headache go away.
I haven’t heard from him since. It would happen occasionally that Dothrax wouldn’t answer my calls. Dremora must have duties they tend to in their own realm. At least that’s what he would tell me. We wouldn’t talk much. But considering the nature of this being, it’s surprising we would hold a conversation at all.
The Razor’s handle sinks into my grip. This is all I have right now, huh. Maybe it’s time I give Mehrunes shrine another visit.
- - - - - - - -
The everlasting snow reveals a trail stretching long behind me. There are too many steps. Whoever built the damn shrine on top of a hill better be burning in oblivion. The mound that I suspect being a troll’s frozen body indicates I’m almost here. The familiar wicked stone face greets me. A dreadful chill rolls down my spine – two familiar figures stand in front of the shrine’s door. They spot me immediately. A sense of nausea fills my mouth but it’s too late to step backwards. Reluctantly, I approach the two.
“You’re here.” – I state, my confidence wavering. In past times I approached this place anticipating them to be here. This time however… Why did I even come.
“Mehrunes Dagon awaits you.” – one I now know to be Valynaz gestures me inside.
I follow his direction in silence. With each step through the icy corridor my gut gets heavier. The familiar room is now holding a sizeable red portal. On each side stand Churl and Kynval, the final pair from my first visit. Their expressionless faces betray nothing. I feel the other two dremora pushing into my back. Reluctantly, I walk through the oblivion gate.
It takes my eyes a moment to adjust. Behind me I hear emerge four pairs of steps. The portal can be presumed closed. Removing my palm from the view I see Him. Primal terror almost sinks to my knees. It’s Mehrunes Dagon, sitting on his throne.
“Greetings, champion.” – the room roars in his voice.
My head lowers in response. I felt like my neck was about to snap under the pressure. My mind is flooded with speculations. Why has he brought me here after all this time? Is it about the Sigil stone, after all this time? His voice indicated not anger nor contentment. Should I be concerned? Is there a setting in which I wouldn’t be afraid of facing the Daedra…
“Approach me, mortal girl.” – Mehrunes speaks.
My body obeys his command, yet my legs won’t stop shaking. I walk until I’m standing right in front of him. Lord Dagon lifts his lower arm that was resting on one of his spread thighs. It wraps around my waist as I sit down.
“AAAAAH!” – I scream in pain as rough fingers yank at my scalp. His huge palm burns like lava pouring onto raw flesh.
“The slu*t dares to go behind my back after I showered her in gifts.” – he pulls harder. Hot tears wash into my open mouth.
“I’m s-sorry! I’m sorry, Lord Dagon!” – I choke out a plea. The pain is unbearable. And it only heightens.
“You were not asked to speak.” – Dagon reaches his extra hand into my robes – “I will be taking this. Razor can only belong to a champion.”
My blood-filled complexion whitens at his words. Does that mean…? My terror filled eyes brings a satisfied grin to Mehrunes face.
“No, please. Please, Lord Dagon, I can still be useful! I will bring back the Sigil stone. A-and will serve You with full devotion. I swear on my name!” – I beg, holding myself up in his grip as much as I can.
“Ah. Y/N. You have already been marked as my slave. And look.” – my head is forcefully pivoted to a corner of the room. There I am met with a horrific sight. Dothrax’s chest is torn open with the stone plunged inside. I weep in pain looking at him – “The Sigil stone is back to its rightful place. You, however, must be taught yours.”
The arm on my hip grips my coat and rips all clothing off my body. The force of the action sends a scream out of my chest. Two muscular arms dig under my hips. The alleviated pressure eases the roaring pain in my scalp. After a relieved breath I look down and begin shaking my head in dread. From underneath Dagon’s armor rises an awfully big, wet red co*ck, ready to plunge all the way to my stomach.
“No… no, it won’t fit. Please…!” – I say more so to myself. I learned pleading to Lord Dagon is futile.
My legs are brough down onto the Daedra’s dick. The tip barely rams its way inside before the rest follow in a violent thrust. It chokes the air out of my lungs. Strong arms force my body up and down onto him again. My mouth waters with saliva, ready to puke from the way Mehrunes digs my insides. The motion repeats, hastening. My walls attempt to adjust to his size. I can hear him groan, continuing to pleasure himself at my expense. A sob filled moan finally escapes my lips. I steady my arms from my head down onto Lord Dagon’s chest. With a more controlled balance, I roll my head forward and see the way his co*ck bulges out of my belly. I gulp down my sickening arousal. His top set arm comes to squeeze my chest whole - it fits entirely in his fist.
I feel the enlarged proportions of the Daedric Prince reach beyond what I thought possible. It takes me back to when his two subordinates enjoyed me at once. This, however, goes beyond that. It’s not just the width that sends sparks directly to my brain. His length had seemed impossible to fit in its entirety. Yet I see Mehrunes slide me all the way up and down in a satisfying thrust.
“Already enjoying yourself, my whor*?” – Mehrunes Dagon forces me to look him in the eye – “Such filthy hole. Its greed knows no bounds.”
“I apologise, Lord…” – I blush, knowing his degrading comment only made my puss* tighten more. His approval is felt with increasingly rapid thrusts. My eyes roll backward at the sensation.
“I will break you, girl. This used body is suited only to squeeze its Master dry.” – Dagon says and plunges me down. The impact sets a shockwave through my spine.
I fall backward. Both my arms are seized and pressed along the sides of my back. Mouth agape, I moan out loud in rhythm to Mehrunes dick. My sanity is getting pounded to shreds. This is a completely different level. Incomparable to any other co*ck in oblivion. Not even close. Had I been a better worshipper, would I have gotten a taste of it sooner?
“Does my whor* crave for her Owner’s seed?” – he speaks, interrupted only by the sounds of wet claps.
“Yesssss. Please, Lord Dagon, please bless me with your sem*n. I beg of you.” – my pitiful cry echoes in the otherworldly hall.
“Have you learnt who you owe your entire existence to, mortal?” – the Daedra sways himself into my hips.
“I belong to You! My soul, my slu*tty body, my c*nt. Everything is Yours, Mehrunes Dagon!” – He speaks no words back, instead relaying his contentment to my answer with a burst of cum – “Oh yes, please give it to me, Master. Give it to Your personal co*ck slave.” – the words drool out of my salivated mouth. Post climax mumble following it not making much sense either.
Without much delay, Mehrunes lifts me off with a loud pop at the end of our contact. I hiss at the sudden movement. A full breath finally enters my no longer restricted lungs. I’m plopped to the ground unceremoniously. His meat slaps onto my face. I ignore the sting all throughout me and look up to my owner with exhausted yet hungry eyes. Mehrunes grins and addresses me again.
“I thought long how best to dispose of my ungrateful whor*. But your unsatiable hole might prove useful. Be grateful for an eternity spent here, mortal.”
“Wha- Where are you taking me?! Lord Dagon, what’s- what’s going on?!” – foreign arms wrap under my armpits and begin dragging me into a crowd.
It hadn’t occurred to me we had an audience watching. Mehrunes simply observes as his cum leaks out of me, leaving a trail behind. Fighting these beasts proves useless and I lose sight of my Master behind a wall of hungry arms clawing at me.
