The long day had worn into harsh night, leaving Arria thankful that the city of Dawnstar had come into view. Her breaths were heavy with exhaustion, and her body soaked with the sweat of consumated effort. She had been flushed from her most recent hideout, her exertions a mark of just how much distance she had placed between herself and her pursuers. The inn was the first thing to strike her eye as she entered the city's limits, and for a time it was all she cared about. A place to relax, to get her bearings, and a drink most stiff.
She had barely stepped into the quaint Nordic meadhall when the Dunmer beset her, clumsily drumming up conversation with worries of a plague of nightmares that had afflicted the city. His eyes were on her chest the entire way through, leaving her a little less than satisfied with his intent. Nonetheless, she indulged the priestly-garbed Elf.
“So, this only affects people that live here?", asked Arria, though her tone carried an obvious incredulity.
"Ah, yes, that's right, travelers like you and I are not prey to the dreams like the townsfolk", the Dunmer returned, bowing his head in seeming apology, as if he had only just realised his intent in conversing with the scarlet-haired rogue.
"Well, that's good, a nightmare's the last thing I need right now", she aired out a sigh of relief, easing away the chagrin in her voice. Quietly she moved to dismiss the Elf, turning away to find the innkeep.
"Miss, forgive me, I see I've caused you some concern", he apologised again, though this time in words over motion. "Perhaps I may offer you my room for the night as repayment?"
Probably trying to get lucky, she assumed. But having seen how he acted, she was sure he was trying to get her to take the lead, let him tame her, as it were. Those types were harmless, and the prospect of a free bed for the night was appealing. At least something was going her way today.
"I think I'll take you up on that", she glanced back, seeing his red eyes light up like rubies to the idea.
Before she knew it, Arria was six cups deep in a bottle of Starfrost, her exhaustion compounded, under the haze of a good Nordic ale, leaving her to fight just to crawl to her bed for the night.
The veil of sleep fell quickly once she relaxed into the furs arrayed on the cot, drifting off into an easy slumber. Just outside, however...
"Brother, I assume you're aware of our guest?", asked the Dunmer as he approached a similarly cloaked figure, the Priest of Mara, Erandur.
"I saw her enter the room, yes, I'm sure you have something planned", the priest replied wearily. Knowing full well that his compatriots intentions were rarely pure.
He nodded, "and I would like to go about my work undisturbed, pray keep watch over the door, would you?", though he framed it as a question, his tone was far more demanding.
Erandur sighed, but moved as his fellow did, taking up a strict perch by the doorway to their room. "Please, just be quick".
“Oh, I’ll be sure to take just as much time as needed”, his voice dripped with anticipation as he entered the room, his eyes glued the temptress sleeping on the other side.
His hand lit up with the signature glow of magefire, a dim mauve hue dancing in his palm. Quickly summoned, and even quicker cast, a sign of a practiced mage.
His handiwork reflected across his target’s body, her very flesh alight with his magic. Whatever had been done, the knowing smirk on the mage’s face made it clear he had succeeded.
He drew in closer, taking but a moment to admire the sleeping beauty before going for a more intimate look, stripping her of the dress that covered her body in a motion forceful enough to turn Arria over, but somehow leave her sleeping. He disrobed himself almost as quickly.
“Ancestors deliver me, you are beautiful”, captivated by the sight of her naked flesh, he paused. Drinking in the view, his mind filling with ideas which became quick fuel for the blood pumping into his growing member, now throbbing at attention, begging to be used.
He wasted no time slaking that desire. Climbing onto the cot and slithering his way across Arria's glistening body, he drew his face up to hers, admiring her peaceful, sleeping form one last time before he set about defiling her.
“Body like this is just begging to be fucked”, he told himself aloud, a clear feeling that he had struck gold tonight.
What followed were the stressed grunts of a happy man, as he plowed Arria's sex, her body put up no resistance, instead, her wet flower welcomed him with sopping shlicks.
Elsewhere, Arria found herself suffering under a searing white gaze. Her eyes tightened, then opened drearily to an open plain under an unusually clear sky.
She began to lift herself up, only to notice that she wasn’t alone. “What in Oblivion!”, she cried, startled by the pale, deformed face looking back at her.
Her eyes were wide at the sight, striking her awake and alert when she came face-to-face with a Snow Elf. Two of the black-clad creatures stood over her as if in careful regard. She was bewildered, but something about them caught her. Ordinarily she would’ve lashed out immediately, expecting the Falmer to do the same. But they looked upon her curiously, and so too did she, feeling a strange calm wash over her.
“So, this is happening…”, uncertainty took hold. She rose to her feet, but did not flee. Instead she reached out as the Falmer drew back to her, nestling against her slender fingers almost as if they were hounds accepting the care of their owner.
Just as she began to settle in to this unusual peace, the Falmer slipped behind her, rising to its full height in order to grab her. A quick fluid motion that Arria had no way of stopping, leaving her fully at the mercy of albino creature. Its hands washing across her breasts in lurid fashion, its erect member poking at the walls of her exposed sex. Glancing down, shocked, she realised that the other Elf had stolen her panties in a sleight of hand that she never even felt.
They continued apace, pressing her forward, until she fell to her knees. When the lower Elf splayed himself out on the ground, discarding his armour, it became evident what they were planning. Arria attempted to resist, though her body ignored her wishes, allowing the Snow Elves to dominate her unchallenged.
She was pressed onto the waiting, pulsating cock of the elf in one swift, heavy downward push. “Aaaaaah!”, she let out a moan of unabated pleasure, utterly against her will, but helpless to prevent it.
Though they had “guided” her to their cocks, once the act began they quickly became rather submissive, almost stopping themselves entirely in favour of leaving it in the redhead’s hands. Her first instinct was to remove the filthy appendage that was filling her insides, but its warmth, the pleasure radiating within changed her mind.
Her mind fogged up in a haze, washed over by sublime ecstasy she stopped thinking, leaving instinct to take over. It didn’t take long for the three of them to end up embroiled in a sprawling tryst, hands running between each of their bodies. The Falmer pleasuring Arria, just as she did them.
Foreplay gave way to intimacy, and Arria soon found herself gorging on the two erect rods before her, taking their lengths as deep as she could, her head bobbing back and forth in sensual motions, up and down pale white cock, laden with saliva and pre-cum.
When she began to struggle going any deeper, one of the pair took it upon himself to apply the proper motivation, driving his spear into her unattended rear, pressing her luscious lips further down the length of his partner’s shaft with each powerful thrust.
Though they had let her lead them in the acts to this point, when their inevitable climax approached, they quickly seized the initiative. Removing themselves from Arria to better give her their gift in an ensuing spasm of shuddering spurts. Strand after strand of thick, gooey semen poured from turgid well-stroked cocks, finding its way to Arria’s face and her alluring bosom, caking them both in a sticky layer of their cream.
In the aftermath of their small orgy, Arria’s thoughts returned to contemplation. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something was off, something was utterly wrong with the situation at hand. But what? she questioned herself, mind afire with doubt.
That doubt was quashed the moment her eyes drew ahead. Her crystalline blue eyes taking in the visage of a newly arrived Falmer, the giant late comer to this little party.
Though he looked no different than his kin, he possessed an aura that captivated the Imperial, drawing her in. Likewise, the other two were frightened off by his presence, quickly fleeing off into the distance.
Arria took the opposite approach. Whatever charm he held had won her over, thought and all, and so it was that she did away with her heavy blade and her tight little dress whilst she sauntered towards him. “Well hello, big boy…”
The creature required no introduction nor invitation, quickly grabbing the redhead as if she were prey, pushing her to the ground with tempestuous force.
She struck the ground hard, though the sensation was far from what she expected. Not the feeling of soft dirt and moss, but an inextricably wooden feeling, as if she had been smacked against a facade.
Her dream, if it could truly still be called such, was little more than an illusion forced upon her by the will of her assailant’s magicka. As he shoved her against the inn’s thick wooden walls, so too were those feats replicated in her mind in some form or another.
The Dunmer’s bucking was frantic, clearly caught up in a world of ideas and indulgence, the fact that Arria could do nothing to stop him having left him in a whirl of fantasy. On a whim he threw her up against the wall that he might fuck her sweet honeypot roughly, just as quickly his mind changed under the gifted touch of her soft breasts squeezing against him amidst his rutting.
“Keep teasing me like this and I might just have to make you my permanent little whore”, he jeered, having thrown the limp, listless maiden back against the bed. He scrambled atop her abdomen, the perfect place to press his piston between the extraordinary mounds arrayed before him. His hands, eagerly squeezed at Arria’s olive flesh whilst his burning member ran between her breasts.
“Ohh, yes!”, he pushed and pushed with each thrust, slowly pulling himself further up Arria’s body, and deeper into her cleavage all the while, until his pecker became precariously close to her face.
Just in time, he’d thought as he neared the edge. His hands lunged forward, tugging at the girl’s luscious red mane, so that he might make use of her throat as a receptacle for his desires.
He held her there, bathing in that glorious feeling that ran through him. His whole body quaked with pleasure, as his jism unleashed deep into Arria’s throat.
Her body reacted impulsively, clenching down around his cock further, causing him to moan rather emphatically, his rod still more than sensitive after its release.
Running parallel, Arria found herself taking the engorged cock of her Falmer partner into her mouth freely. His spindly hands assisting her masterful tongue-play with gentle motions.
The pace picked up, and he pressed her down, having her take his length from a position more fitting a submissive pet than a controlling domme.
The spell she was under fed her ego, and so even as she knelt there like a dog on all fours, tending the filth-covered member of a cave dwelling beast-elf, her mind fogged over with the idea that she was in control. That she wanted this. She was elated at the growing bulge of his cock, briefly expanding as he readied to blow his load into her waiting, salivating throat.
The Elf strained against her, pressing his cock as far back into her throat as it would go before releasing his thick cream into her gullet. Arria took everything she could, almost gleefully.
It wasn’t enough, she signaled, squeezing at the Falmer’s balls with her fingers, trying to wring every last drop of his seed from him. Pangs of pleasure rung within her body, filling her with warmth and a deep desire to go even further.
The reality of her feelings, though, were little more than a reflection of her assailant’s fervour beyond the dream. His cock, slick with cum and saliva, easily returned to Arria’s soaking honeypot, piercing deeper into her than before.
He pressed down hard, his pecker thrusting in and out of her hole with all the precision of a Dwemeri piston. Their rutting echoed clearly, with each press of his cock, deep into the depth of Arria’s flower, the bed creaked loudly, its wooden frame struggling to hold against its occupants.
The pace only slowed when the Dunmer reached his peak, unleashing another load into the defenseless redhead. His thrusts slackened alongside his muscles, losing himself in the high of pleasure…
…A rhythm which fed into Arria’s domination of her pale-skinned lover. Having pushed him down upon the soft earth, she lined herself up only to skewer herself upon his raging, erect spear.
Pulling herself over his entire length, back and forth, allowing it to fill her utterly with passionate swings of her strong hips.
Arria clung to the Elf as she hit her own edge, eager to feel a well-deserved climax. Her partner obliged, raising his arms to her thighs. Giving her some extra momentum to aid in her ministrations.
His spindly fingers slithered further along, cupping Arria’s pert, toned arse in his hands, even as sticky cum slid down her bare back. He held there for the final few moments of the rogue’s pounding, savouring the sensation as her pussy clenched around his cock, tightening hard in the midst of a shuddering climax.
Ultimately, though, the feeling Arria was left with was dull and unimpressive. Her muscles slackened, and her body instinctively relaxed, but she felt as if something was missing. The sensations didn’t match the effort, and though she was spent, she was left wanting more. Her partner delivered, meeting her face-to-face for some well earned tongue-play, their heady breaths intermingled with the bitter taste of cum and spit as the redhead’s tongue darted around the mouth of the Falmeri beast, and his in hers.
Oh, what the Hell, she thought, pulling him into the perfect embrace for a truly deep kiss, attempting as best she could to assuage her that guttural emptiness her climax had left her with.
But the kiss lacked her gentle flair, being the whim of her dunmer oppressor, who smudged his lips against her limp form with sloppy fury.
He hadn’t left her lower-half unattended, of course. Even as his earlier work began to spill out, his pale, grey cock continued to part the slick lips of Arria’s flower, probing towards her innermost depths.
Soon enough, he began to edge again. His motions became frantic, pulling the girl up so that he might press even deeper towards her womb. He could feel pain mixing in with his pleasure, a clear sign that this load would be his last for this encounter.
With an ecstatic moan, his cock expanded, pouring a final load as far into the Imperial’s gaping pussy as it would go. His back arched as a powerful wave of ecstasy crashed over him, washing away the last of his energy with it. As his form went limp, he felt a desire to continue his conquest, but lacked the strength to do anything more.
“I’ll be sure to find you again, dear”, the Dunmer remarked having gotten dressed quite quickly. He turned to take one last look at his handiwork, a proud grin to him broken only by his need to pant away at his own exhaustion.
Barely a moment after he’d left the room did a swathe of others barge in. The innkeep, Thoring and a pair of his patrons, standing in the doorway shocked by the sight. They had been lured in by the obvious commotion from outside, but never had they expected it to be so openly displayed before them.
“’ere’s an idea!”, yelled the dirtiest of the three. “We’s could take ‘er on a ride, if’n what we’d been ‘earing didn’t wake her up, nothin’ will!”, his words broke under poor diction and inebriation, but easily understood by the other two.
“You- you mean?”, the Khajiit looked shocked at the suggestion, but the other patron replied frankly “Aye”, almost as if it were the natural course.
“I’m in”, Thoring took but a moment to ponder the idea before his affirmation. The stoic, typically Nordic reply, carrying enough sway to change even the wary Khajiit’s mind. “Wait, wait, don’t leave me out of this!”, he cried.
And so deep in her magical slumber, Arria’s dream became a deluge of sabrecats and trolls as the patrons beset her, each newcomer bringing her closer to a rude awakening…
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