###WARNING - This story contains cub rape###


       My name is K’Tharr. I am writing this in hopes that someone will one day find this parchment. This is a desperate plea from me to you, dear reader. My life and the life of my brother were drastically changed by the discovery of daedric magic. I’ve never encountered such evil in all my life. As I document my story, my older brother is now dead, laying motionless on the floor in a pool of blood, killed by both his own ambitions of power, and also by my own bloody paw. I have placed a magical lock on the front door, and it cannot be broken down. However, someone from the mage guild will find a way to open that door soon, but I at least have the time to tell my tragic story.
       We are Kajiit, my brother and I. We once lived in the province of Elsweyr, the home of the Kajiit. I was too young to remember growing up there, and we moved to the Imperial Province when I was only 4. I have since visited my home province a few times, but only to bury myself in skooma and sex… usually for the simple purpose of forgetting my unique problems. In Elsweyr, sex does not come with the concept of jealousy as it does here. We don’t take a single mate and we don’t avoid sex pending some dramatized ceremony, so getting sex in Elsweyr is less complicated than it is here. Forgive me if my views are offensive to you. I just felt I had to explain.
       When I was 4, my mother, my 10-year-old brother J’Kirr, and I moved to Bravil. Our mother was killed by an Argonian bandit on her way to the capitol. An Imperial guard had the unfortunate task of finding us and delivering the news. We never saw it coming. Our mother wasn’t a weak female. She had a bit of a cold that day, so she probably wasn’t paying attention, and didn’t sense someone creeping up behind her. After our loss, we were taken in by a generous priest at the temple. We lived peacefully in the temple for about a year, all the time learning some of the spells the temple offered to the public.
       By the time I turned 5, my brother had grown bored of the beneficial spells we were limited to, and decided that we needed to break into the mage guild. It took some doing, but he finally convinced me to come along. Breaking in was easy enough, due to our natural night-eye. We stole several books, mainly from the schools of illusion, alteration, and destruction, but as we were about to leave, we noticed a loose panel in the back of one of the bookcases.
       As we investigated, we found a crimson red book. The cover was pretty beat up, and the corners of the cover and all the pages were burnt, as if someone was desperately trying to get rid of this book. We noted the obvious warning signs, but our curiosity got the better of us. If only we had realized just how much this book of daedric arts would alter our lives; how much it probably destroyed the life of an experienced wizard…
       We discovered an abandoned house, where we spent several months practicing many spells. We played games with them and had much fun doing so. Most of this daedric book was difficult to understand. It wasn’t like the other schools of magic. What little magic we could learn from the book scared us. We usually only used it on a dare, but that was all it took.
       I often found J’Kirr flipping through the book after his curiosity was triggered. Sometimes he would appear to be talking to someone who wasn’t there, though I could faintly hear whispers around him. Although I couldn’t understand what the strange voices were saying, they still filled me with a sense of danger. Although I didn’t know it at the time, I was slowly beginning to sense the evil in that book.
       One day, I made the mistake of shaking J’Kirr out of his trance. What happened then was… He snarled at me with what seemed to be multiple synchronized voices, both the same and different at the same time, and backhanded me with a physical force sent a shockwave through the house, knocking several small items over, and sending me flying across the room. When I came to my senses, J’Kirr was standing over me, shaking me and sobbing; apologizing rapidly. I was scared, but I still knew he wasn’t himself in the moment that he hit me. Perhaps I should have said something. Maybe if I urged him to get rid of the book at that moment…
       He didn’t touch the book all the next day. We played as usual with the other spells we had learned. We had such fun that day, but I often noticed him still briefly glancing over at that monstrosity of a book sitting on the desk. This would be the last time we played. The next morning, he was gone, along with the book. I waited for days… weeks… months… The priest that took us in sent out a search party, but there was no luck. To this day, I still don’t know where he went to.
       Finally, one day a strange feeling came over me. A cold chill down my spine, seeming to originate from a specific direction. If I had not experienced this feeling before while playing with that book, I would have simply shaken it off and ignored it. Instead, I followed this uneasy feeling I had, and when I stepped outside, I saw a familiar figure stepping into the abandoned house. I immediately rushed to the house and ran inside, embracing my brother in a tight hug that he returned. I had hugged my brother many times before, and this hug seemed alien to me, yet I ignored it and held onto him for longer than I ever had before.
       I asked him all the obvious questions, and learned little, except that he had apparently learned much about daedric magic. He spoke much of power and artifacts, often mentioning someone else he had been studying and practicing with. When I asked who, he simply said I wouldn’t know him, and when I asked where this person was now, he quickly moved onto another subject. I didn’t inquire further, though from what I have learned of the daedric arts since then, I am certain this other person, whomever he may be, had been killed by my own brother in a ceremonial sacrifice.
       He gave me a gift that day. He gave me a pair of matching bracelets he said he had crafted himself. They were made of some kind of ancient dwarven material, so they were a bit heavy for normal bracelets, but I didn’t mind at the time. It didn’t even strike me as odd his sudden interest in such things as he hadn’t shown any such interest before. Once I put them on, he told me he had another gift to give me.
       He told me… that he had learned some “fun things” from the daedra, and how to “make yourself feel really good”. Before I could ask, he was removing his shirt, apparently preparing to give me a demonstration, asking that I do the same. Curious as I was, I agreed. He told me it was going to be like a hug, only better. I had heard once about some elven practices from the priest that relax the body, though not being an elf, he didn’t know much about it and wasn’t very clear in his descriptions. I thought that maybe this was what J’Kirr had in mind… but it turned out to be something completely different.
       He began running his paw through my fur, along my chest and tummy, eventually guiding me to lay on the bed, onto my back. At first I was intrigued, impatiently waiting to see what it would feel like being fully relaxed by this elven technique. He then leaned down, whispering something in my ear that I can’t quite recall. I only remember that it confused me when he said it. Then he did something that, had I been raised in Elsweyr, probably wouldn’t have concerned me as much as it did.
       He started slipping off my pants. I grabbed my waistband and asked him if this was really part of the technique. He assured me it was, and after some persuasion, convinced me to allow myself to be stripped naked. He ran his paw down my front and I jumped as he pushed back my fur and exposed the tip of my penis, rubbing it and coaxing it out. He placed his paw on my chest as I tried to sit up suddenly, with only a “Shhhhh, just relax.” in response. Any following questions were answered before I could ask with “Just trust me. It’ll feel real good.”
       Ignoring the alarms going off in my head, I nervously laid back down, jumping with every new touch as he worked my young member until it was hard. As he removed his own pants, I could see that his was already hard. I could… sorta speculate on why I, myself, was supposed to be unclothed for this, but I was utterly confused as to why he had to be naked as well.
       He lifted my legs and placed himself between them, showing me an anticipating grin that has haunted me ever since. He leaned slightly over me and reached down, pushing my tail out of the way and aiming his cock at my butt. As I felt his tip starting to push against my young hole, and start to hurt, I threw my paws up and pressed them against his chest, asking him to stop.
       He only said that it might hurt at first if I don’t relax, but it would still feel really good after. I then felt my tight hole being forced open as he pushed forward again. I cried out in pain and pressed harder on his chest, begging him to pull it out. He only reminded me to relax and continued to penetrate me. I then lifted myself up, grabbing his hips, wanting nothing more to do with this strange technique.
       As I started to push him out, he grabbed my wrists and held them above my head, his fingers wrapped around those bracelets. As his palms started to glow, as well as the wristbands, it all started to make sense. He had planned it all. He had planned for this in case I had objected. With a simple alteration spell, my wristbands suddenly became much heavier. As he released my wrists, they fell to the bed, firmly securing my arms. I tried to unlock them, but I needed both paws for each one, and they were too far apart. I couldn’t move them.
       As he pressed his hips forward, forcing his barbed cock inside me, I realized much too late that he wasn’t who he used to be. I screamed out in pain as he pressed inward, my wide eyes staring up at him in disbelief. As I stared into his eyes, I saw nothing familiar. All I saw in his eyes was a deep desire; one that he had probably suppressed his whole childhood up until now. His deepest desires and emotions had been brought to the surface, and his attachments to the mortal world had been purged.
       As he started raping me, I continued to scream out, and beg him to stop and let me go, but nothing I said was getting through to him. He knew only that he wanted the pleasure he’d longed for so many years and never had the heart to take. As the abuse continued, he would thrust his hips harder and harder, penetrating into my squirming, helpless body so deep that even after the pain eventually stopped, I just couldn’t handle the intensity. It felt so different than anything I had experienced, but it was too much to take. I just wanted it to stop, but for what seemed like forever, through my begging, cries, and screams, he continued to slam himself inside me again and again.
       Finally it stopped… He began grunting and clenching his teeth as he fucked me, and then the thrusting stopped. His cock was throbbing inside me, and my anus was pulsing with a dull pain that just wouldn’t go away, though it wasn’t as intense as when he penetrated me. He was panting hard as he reached the peak of his pleasure, in a moment that had once been only a guilty fantasy.
       For the next few moments (or next few eternities as far as I was concerned), He pressed himself against my side, a moist shaft rubbing against my waist as he caressed me again, panting heavily, and then starting to slow. He spoke to me occasionally, but I can’t remember much of what he said. I was frightened, knowing he wasn’t my brother anymore, fearfully anticipating what he would do next… but nothing could have prepared me for the horror I would soon face.
       
       ***
       He sat up and pulled himself to the other side of the bed, behind me, stroking his shaft which was hard once again. He then began chanting, bringing back that same multi-voice that I heard when he backhanded me across the room. He had summoned a reptilian daedroth in the room with us. I didn’t know what the hell it was. I had never seen one before. All I knew is that it was bigger than anything I’ve seen before. My mother had protected us before from a troll, and once killed a grizzly bear, and neither of them came close to the size of this monster.
       As soon as I saw it, I freaked out and flailed about trying to free myself without success. Its jaws were like that of a crocodile. Its fingers could wrap all the way around a grown male. Its head was constantly brushing the ceiling as it came towards me with a low, loud growl. I happened to catch a glimpse of this thing’s shaft, and it was at least as big as my leg, and at that point, I started begging J’Kirr desperately, frightened that this thing had the same intentions as my brother, who only watched with that same evil grin as he masturbated behind me, and the monster grabbed me, getting into position for what would be the most excruciating moments of my life.
       It wasted no time shoving that thing into my tailhole. As it penetrated, I felt my hips crack and split. As soon as that happened, everything went black. It was as if… all the pain had been shoved into the background. All the sounds became muffled, and faded… the pain was fading… I thing I, myself, was fading… and then I snapped back to my senses with a large gasp of air, my brother’s paw pressed against my chest, still jerking off with the other. He was healing me, though not for the reasons he would have in the past. He simply wanted to enjoy my torment for longer, as did the daedroth.
       The pain was back, and this time, blacking out wasn’t going to save me. I was constantly losing blood on the sheets as this monster raped me, his monstrous shaft ripping into me with every brutal thrust. I couldn’t move my legs anymore. I could only scream and beg as the daedroth used my young body for its own pleasure, and my brother would occasionally scoop up a paw full of my blood and use it as lubricant as he pawed off, thoroughly enjoying the show he’d set up for himself.
       My body was being jerked back and forth, down into the hips of the remorseless  creature, and bounced forward as they slammed into me, J’Kirr’s paw remaining on my chest, healing me, replenishing my blood supply as I coughed it up and the giant lizard pounded it out of my broken tailhole, and constantly mending my intestines as the monster’s shaft ripped through them.
       J’Kirr orgasmed as he watched the brutality, and the daedroth wasn’t far behind him, flooding me with a intensely hot semen that burned my insides as if they were on fire. Satisfied, the daedroth simply vanished back to the plains of Oblivion. J’Kirr’s healing paw remained long enough to mend my intestines once more, but little more than that. Still, it was enough to keep me alive, at least for a little while.
       
       ***
       
       Before I knew it, J’Kirr was gone. I wouldn’t see him again for another eleven years. I should have died that day. Even after being mended, there was no way I would have survived on my own. There are some days I wish I would have stayed in the bed and let myself go, but I crawled out. My legs were useless, but I dragged myself with my arms out onto the streets of Bravil. I blacked out again. Although I wasn’t aware of it, the priest had carried me into the temple, and began healing me. He kept me alive, but he died in the process. I never knew why he died healing me, except that it’s most certainly related to the overwhelming evil in the daedric arts. If that was the case, why was it him and not me that died?
       Over the next few years, the events of that horrible day were gradually suppressed. I was only asked once who did this to me, and I don’t remember what I said. I think I told him it was another Kajiit, but I know I made no mention of my brother. I knew that if my brother was found and confronted, either my brother would die, or someone else would die, and as much as I realized he wasn’t my brother anymore, I still didn’t want him to die. Perhaps they would have been able to help him if I had told them everything, I don’t know.
       When I was 15, I wandered back into the abandoned house. Strange that it remained abandoned all those years. I found the book sitting on the desk. I learned later that J’Kirr had found another book, and was studying more advanced daedric magic. I know he didn’t leave the book back at the old abandoned house, however. It was like the book had a mind of its own, which would probably explain why the Mages’ Guild couldn’t get rid of it. If they had thrown it into the sea, it would have simply come back to them, completely intact. Now the book had come to me… and I took it.
       I started learning the daedric arts myself, not remembering the pain it caused me; not remembering how much it corrupted my brother. As long as I had the book, even the faintest memory of that night was gone, as if the book was keeping it suppressed, and suppressed even deeper than before. So deep that…
       One day, two years later, while visiting Bruma, I found the bandit that killed my mother. He had apparently settled down and opened up a shop in town. I knew it was him because he was wearing the amulet my mother always wore. It wasn’t very valuable, so he probably had no desire to sell it, but it was very distinct. He probably didn’t even remember where he got it. I know he remembered how, just not where. I waited in town for two weeks, stalking him, and caught him leaving town one day.
       When we were far enough on the road, I attacked him, and ripped the amulet from around his neck. After that, I remember doing the exact same thing to him that my brother did to me. I raped him, and then summoned a reptilian daedroth to rape him. I enjoyed every second of it. The only difference in the way it happened to me is that I didn’t heal him. He was killed by the daedroth’s brutal assault, and I left his naked, broken body there for all passersby to see. I did it just as it was done to me, yet I remembered nothing of my own torment. Though I often saw the daedroth in my dreams, and experienced the same terror as when I first encountered it, I still didn’t remember. I was haunted by an unknown memory.
       It was only a month later that the memory had returned. Ever since I became sexually active, I had been making trips back and forth to Elsweyr, having sex whenever and wherever I could. Males, females, adults, teens, it didn’t matter. Whenever sex was refused to me, I would simply charm them with an illusion spell and they would usually agree to it, unless they just weren’t into males. One male in particular had befriended me in the course of our sessions.
       One day, this male had an argonian male friend with him. This session was to be our last, and it was completely different than before. This time, he wanted to be on top. I had nothing against it, and he was pleasant enough a kajiit that I agreed. The argonian was inexperienced, so he elected to watch, at least at first before joining in. We were both already nude, as in Elsweyr some go nude, and some wear clothing, and nobody says anything in either case.
       I sat on the bed and leaned back as he got closer, scratching behind his neck as he hovered over me, something he really enjoys. I lifted my legs for him and felt his tip pressing against me. At that point, something compelled me to reach for his chest. As I touched his chest, I suddenly saw J’Kirr’s face on him. As my eyes widened, my peripheral vision gave me the illusion of the argonian taking on the figure of the daedroth. With a rush of suppressed memories flooding into my head at once, I turned away and vomited off the side of the bed. As you may expect, there wasn’t much of a sexual atmosphere anymore.
       I had topped many males, and females, but since my brother, this was the first time I was about to be topped again. I assured him he didn’t do anything I didn’t like, once I got over the rush, though I don’t think he believed me. From that day until about four weeks ago, I had been combining sex with skooma, desperately trying to forget that night, as the nightmares every night became more and more intense.
       Everything from there to when I finally broke my skooma habit is a blur. I believe I hurt many people during that time, but any time I would have hurt someone, the reality of it would never hit me. I still don’t know whether or not it’s self pity convincing me that I hurt them, or if it actually happened. If I did hurt someone, I would have simply been too wasted to realize what I was doing… only piecing together stray afterthoughts.
       It took about a week of agony, both mental and physical, before the addiction was finally gone. It wasn’t long after that I was in the Imperial City Office of Commerce, looking for a house, that I happened to glance at a piece of parchment on the desk, listing the names of the newest residents. One of the names was J’Kirr! He had bought a deed using his real name, in the Elven Gardens district. It was the house you probably found my account of these past events in.
       I rushed from the office and stormed into my brother’s new home, sure that he had given up the daedric arts, and thus would hopefully regain his sanity. I… couldn’t have been more wrong. As I entered the house, there was nothing except a stone altar in the middle of the room. Blood was splattered all over it, and plenty more flowed down the sides and had collected on the floor. I quickly turned to leave, only to see the door swing shut.
       J’Kirr was standing right in front of me. Without a word, he grabbed the back of my head, and with unnatural strength, slammed my face into the window. The glass shattered and tiny fragments collected on my eyelids. I am at least thankful none of the fragments of glass actually got into my eyes, but I still couldn’t open them for fear of just that. I couldn’t fight his strength as he dragged me by my headfur across the room. 
       I swung my arms wildly, blindly trying to fight him off of me as he lifted me to my feet. I made very little impact, however, and I soon felt the cold stone against my back. I can still hear clearly the final words of the evil being that was once my brother as he fought to push me onto the altar… “Through the sacrifice of my other half to the lords of Oblivion, my transcendence is complete.” Gods know what evil would have been unleashed in this land if he had not made one fatal mistake.
       As I was flailing around, fighting for my life, one of my paws came in contact with the handle of a blade. As soon as I touched it, I felt his fingers grip painfully tight around my wrist. During my futile struggle with him, I felt the insides of his legs on both sides of my right leg. With this new perspective, I drove my knee up as hard as I could, and judging from his immediate reaction, I knew I hit my mark, which gave me just the edge I needed to drive the dagger through his chest. The blade, forged from material found only in the plains of Oblivion, pierced him effortlessly. His body fell limp on top of me, and slid down onto the floor.
       Our struggle happened a mere hour before I began writing this, and could be seen and heard through the broken window. The guards started banging on the door shortly after I began writing. They’ve tried to bring it down for half an hour and I’m sure they realize now that it is magically reinforced rather than just sturdy. Soon, a wizard from the Arcane University will undoubtedly break the magical lock and the legions will arrest me.
       I will submit to them and serve my sentence, and once I am safely inside the prison, I will arrange to life a new life when I emerge again. No longer will the horrifying and tragic events of the first 19 years of my life infest my dreams and rule my life. There is one unique skill in the arcane arts which I have knowledge of, and will employ once I’m locked away. I will initiate a mind wipe, purging all memory of my past life from existence.
       I wish it didn’t have to come to this. As grim as my story is, I still have many memories I still cherish, from childhood all the way up to this day, and I would love nothing more than to only purge the bad ones from my mind, but I can’t pick and choose what to purge. I must erase them all. Maybe one day I will reunite with old acquaintances, and establish the bonds we shared once again. It’s unlikely, but this one can hope.
       I can hear magical chanting from outside the door. It will take awhile to break the lock, but I still have time to wrap this up. It’s common knowledge that the Kajiit aren’t fond of pen and parchment. In fact, I have only come across one published book written by a Kajiit, and it’s a pretty rare find. Putting ideas onto parchment isn’t a common practice in Elsweyr, but I feel it is imperative that I tell someone about these events.
       I am not writing this to invoke pity, nor am I asking anyone to look for me. My purpose is both to warn anyone who will listen of the dangers of getting involved with the daedric arts and to hopefully ensure the discovery and destruction of this evil book. Because of the temptation daedric magic induces on its potential followers, I cannot disclose the location of the book, and I soon will forget where it is, myself, but I ask whoever finds these documents to please bring them to the Arcane University, so that they will eventually find it, and either destroy or secure it.
       I have no idea how to destroy the book, and I can only offer one theory. My knowledge of the school of mysticism is limited, but perhaps a soul gem is the key. It defies everything comprehensible to me that a book could possibly contain a soul of any description, but there is obviously something very different, tainted,  and… living, for lack of a better word, about this book, and as long as whatever it is remains, the book cannot be destroyed.
       If indeed the book has a “soul”, then it can be extracted into a soul gem, the book ripped apart, burned, and scattered into the sea, and the gem tossed into the sea on the opposite end of the world, ensuring that never again will this evil be released into the world.
       I can feel the magical lock diminishing now. I pray to the nine that these documents find worthy eyes to look upon them before that damn book destroys any more lives. Take my plea to the university immediately, so that mine and my brother’s corruption may be avenged, and one more threat to the people of the empire will be permanently removed from existence.
