Alexander looked around blearily, the leather traveling armor that he wore creaking softly as he trudged deeper and deeper into the woods.  The dragonborn’s tail twitched every few seconds, his hand on the hilt of his sword as he kept putting one foot in front of the other. Anyone staring at the dragonborn would have likened him more to a zombie at this point, rather than the noble, powerful creature he had been just weeks ago.  

His golden eyes gazed around, his grip on his sword tightening ever so slightly.  It wasn’t like him to be like this, jumping at the smallest shadows, the faint cry of skittering animals in the underbrush, or the faint snap of a twig. Then again, the ‘old’ Alexander, the one that was a squire in the Order of the Silver Wolf, on the verge of becoming a full fledged knight, was a fearsome warrior who had proven himself in battle time and again.  He’d defeated orcs, goblins, bandits, and other creatures, wading into battle with both spell and sword where most would have run in stark terror. 

But that was before the nightmares had started. How many weeks ago had it been? Five? Six? Longer? He couldn’t recall, it seemed like a lifetime ago, and that all he now knew was the torment of the dreams. They’d started vague enough. Senses of foreboding, oppressive darkness, half-remembered blurs that made him bolt awake, his burnished gold scales slick with sweat.  Then they started getting more detailed.  He could remember towns awash in flame, the cackling of demons and other horrors as they swept through the place, while he tried and failed to stop them.  He’d spoken with his brothers and sisters in the Order, sought out his mentors, none of them knew what to do. Potions designed to give him a dreamless sleep so he could rest didn’t seem to work, wards did nothing either.   Indeed, the only seemed to grow worse. 

He saw the destruction of the order, his friends and comrades cut down before him, and as the nightmares grew more vivid, more draining, he could start to make out a central figure in them.  It was hazy at first, out of focus, a large, black beast, four legged and feral, calling his name, tormenting him endlessly.  Then at last came one that was almost lucid, where he could almost make out the individual features of the beast. Alexander remembered screaming at it, falling to his knees, his pride crumbling as he begged it to leave him alone. It had simply given him a hauntingly musical chuckle, and then the images of Narlat Forest appeared in his mind.  The creature’s final words still rung as clearly in his mind now as they did then.

[i]If it is a reckoning that you seek, an end to your trials. Seek me here. [/i]

The soon-to-be knight had gotten leave from the elders (who had been chalking the nightmares up to battle exhaustion and had agreed that the squire needed to be shifted away from combat duties for a while), grabbed some supplies, and set out on foot.  The forest was a little more than a week’s journey from his outpost along the eastern borders of the kingdom, and the days and nights seemed to blur together. Sleep came only when necessary, he fought it fiercely, dreading what might happen if he were to close his eyes too long.  

The nightmares had lessened somewhat now, replaced by vague, distorted blurs that somehow filled him with a sense of manic impulsiveness, a drive, an urge, to make his way into the forest, a feeling that if he dawdled too long he might well go mad.  Assuming the dreams hadn’t already done that and he simply hadn’t realized it. 

He heard a snort suddenly, deep and heavy, and he turned to face it, his curved blade clearing its sheath in the blink of an eye.  The snort came again, this time accompanied by a hauntingly familiar giggle.  Thumps vibrated through the ground and the bushes and underbrush seemed to part as the being that had tormented him for so long finally showed itself.  

It resembled a feral horse, but it was larger, and its build much more powerful. A midnight black pelt contrasted with a flowing, golden tail and a mane that bore more resemblance to the long, flowing hair of a noblewoman than a typical horse’s.  Luminous purple eyes, slitted and cat-like, gazed back at him from behind what almost appeared to be a pair of spectacles. Completing the picture was a pair of draconic horns that protruded from the back of her head.  He wasn’t quite sure how he knew it was a she, the voice maybe? But someone, the dragonborn knew that it was a feminine creature.  

“Finally given up resisting, I see.” She said as she trotted forward, nickering slightly, a flicker or two of blue flame haloing her form. Her lips pulled back, and he caught a glimpse of a couple of fangs.  “I must say, you look even better in the flesh than you do in your dreams, Alexander of Nightvale.” She ended the sentence with another laugh, coming still closer to him. 

“What do you want with me… why do you torment me?” the dragonborn hissed. He held his blade out towards her and tried to look fierce. But the blade trembled and he felt as though it weighed as much as a castle. 

“What I want, dear boy, is [i]you[/i]” she said, and she strutted around him, her tail flicking. There was a strange smell in the air; sweet, tantalizing in a way he didn’t fully understand. It was almost like a noblewoman’s perfume.  “More specifically, what someone like yourself can give me.” 

“And why should I help you?” he asked. He narrowed his eyes; he thought he could remember what this creature was, a Nightmare, literally.  A creature that could invade the dreams of others and fed off their fears and emotions.  Such a creature was an anathema to the order, to himself. Something that he had been taught to hate and destroy. The urge to plunge the blade forward and damn the consequences was heavy in his mind, but he couldn’t seem to find the will to do it. “What should I not just destroy you?”

“Oh, you could swing that fancy sword of yours,” she said as she trotted around behind him, her breath upon the long, leathery tendrils that came off the back of his head. He shivered at her proximity and his tail twitched again. “You could use your magic on me, conjure up some spells to blast this form to oblivion.” She was right behind him, he could feel the warmth of her breath, practically taste that strange, sweet-spicy smell in the air. “In your world, I’m quite weak, after all.  This shell is quite frail.”  She gave another soft, siren-like giggle. “But that’s all it is: a shell. Destroy it, and all you’ve done is banished me for a week or two.” 

Her voice suddenly lowered to a growl. “And believe me, I find such things annoying. You think the dreams that I gave you before were bad?” There was a snort behind him, and she stamped a flaming hoof against the ground hard enough that the force of it vibrated Alexander’s whole body.  “They will be [i]nothing[/i] compared to what I’ll do to you then. Before the end of the week, you’ll be so despondent and insane you’ll fall on your own sword just to escape them.”  

Alexander grit his teeth, for a moment, almost ready to do that. But as before, he found that he somehow couldn’t summon up the will. What was the point? To kill the beast and then be driven mad. Worse still, he thought to himself, it might go after one of his comrades. 

She pressed up against him from behind as his sword tumbled from his hands. He could feel the soft, silky hair of her pelt, even through his armor. She nickered above him, and to his surprise, she actually nuzzled the side of his neck.  “But there’s no need for us to get violent and for you to throw your life away, my lovely, noble knight-in-the-making,” she cooed.  “All you have to do is give me what I desire, and we can part ways.”

“So what do you want? What task, quest, or soul-sullying labor would you have me perform, beast?” Alexander’s voice was laced with fatigue.  He didn’t dare to hope that she was being truthful, but the faint, tantalizing hope that he might finally be free of his torment tugged at him regardless.  He also had little doubt that it would be something shameful and humiliating.  What he wasn’t prepared for was what came next. 

“Call me Nyx, Alexander,” the Nightmare said with a soft nicker. She started to strut around in front of him again, flicking her tail. “And my task for you? It’s neither a quest, nor particularly burdensome. Soul-sullying, well,” she giggled and shook her head, “I’ll leave that up to you. But who knows, perhaps you’ll even enjoy it.” There was a growling undertone to her voice, different from before.  

Alexander took a deep breath, his hands twitching. His body seemed to be waking back up, the aching fatigue slowly leaving him. There was something else as well, a sensation he couldn’t fully describe. His armor suddenly felt very restrictive. 

“Enough riddles, enough games,” he hissed, his shoulders slumping, gazing at the Nightmare’s purple eyes, the tip of her muzzle just inches away from his own. “What do you want? Tell me, so I may rid myself of you. You owe me that much after all you’ve put me through.” The last part came out much less fierce than he’d intended, and far from intimidating her, it actually seemed to amuse Nyx. 

“I owe you nothing, boy, but the fact that you’re not a quivering wreck yet is impressive. Few can resist me as long as you have. It’s one of many things that make you so…fascinating and irresistible to me.” She purred. “And I have no doubt you’ll give me everything I need and more, my sweet squire.” 

In all his nineteen years of life, Alexander had never felt more frustrated, he opened his mouth to scream at her once again, but stopped short. He took another sniff of the air, and something finally began to click.  He knew that smell, or something similar to it. It was one that was common in the spring time around the stables of the outpost. But this was much stronger, much more potent, and to his shock and horror, he felt it having an effect upon him. The leather trousers that he wore started to grow tighter, and he felt blood rushing to his shaft. 

“No… you cannot…” he stumbled backwards, tripped, and actually crashed to the ground, too stunned and overwhelmed by fatigue and disbelief to catch himself. There were oaths that he had sworn, promises that he had made.  Surely she couldn’t be serious!

“I am quite serious, my boy.  Every few years, my cycle comes, and I seek a mortal soul to breed with.” She slowly stepped towards him. There was a sparkle in her eyes, a glow of desire, he now realized. She wiggled her equine flanks and kneeled down closer to him. 

He could feel her breath upon his crotch, the leather creaking softly as the pressure in his loins grew.  He tried to will it away, but it was so hard to focus, and everything felt hazy.  Fatigue and the lack of sleep had sapped his willpower and the mental fortitude that he relied upon.  He remembered his oaths, chanted them in his mind, struggling to hold on and shaking his head.  He felt helpless, powerless, squirming away from Nyx in a shamelessly undignified manner. 

“Please… I’m…” Alexander whispered softly. 

“I know [i]precisely[/i] who and what you are, my sweet little squire,” she said, flicking her tail and sending fresh-waves of her heated scent towards him. Instincts stirred inside of the dragonborn, the crotch of his trousers painfully tight, instinctive urges to rut, breed, and sire offspring crashing down upon him, more potent than he’d ever felt before in his life. His jaw opened and shut several times like a fish gasping out of water as she came closer, a coy smirk on her equine face.  “Who better to rut with me and sire my next offspring than a powerful, iron willed holy warrior like yourself?” she licked her lips and the flames around her hooves grew brighter. “Strong. Intelligent… and the delicious irony of ‘corrupting’ a pure, completely unspoiled stud such as yourself… perfect.”  Her large body quivered, and he could see her muscles rippling under her hide.  “Hmmmmm, gets me wet and eager just thinking about it.” 

Before Alexander could stop himself, a vision appeared in his mind. Unbidden, he imagined himself thrusting into her, a groan of delight leaving his draconian muzzle as he clutched tightly to her hips, ramming himself home until he inevitably seeded her.  The tent in his pants was positively titanic now, and the poor squire was ready to rip them open, if only to diminish the now quite painful compression running through his loins. He could never recall being so hard in his life.  Alexander squirmed and whimpered, fear and pain, denial and his own faltering will mixing with carnal desire and hormonal rutting instincts that he’d denied all his life. 

Remember you vows, he chanted to himself, clinging to the mantra.  But it was so very difficult to do so. Even as the dragonborn reminded himself that he was sworn to eradicate creatures like this monster, who preyed on the fears and emotions of mortals, the visions of the two of them locked in a forbidden, lustful coupling returned.  

No! he thought to himself. He was supposed to fight and oppose this being, and the thought of being used by one, being used to sire and spawn another of Nyx’s kind, was shameful beyond words.  Fingers trembling, he made one last reach for his blade, as though he might somehow call it to him. 

Then Nyx’s long, agile tongue slide out of her muzzle and made a single stroke across the tented bulge of his pants.   Alexander’s world turned white for a moment, and a burst of ecstasy he could barely describe flooded through his mind.  He let out a groan and went limp, collapsing onto his back, twitching softly.  

He heard the musical giggling of the Nightmare once again, felt her teeth against his clothing.  There wasn’t even time to feel fear before the sound of rending fabric and leather filled the air and she tore away the front of his pants. Alexander let out a gasp of relief as his erection shot up with enough force that it smacked wetly against Nyx’s face, the trembling, pulsing pillar already sticky with precum. His pendulous balls, heavy and full, tumbled out a split second later. He looked down with a groan, trembling at the sight of his shaft, larger and more bloated than he could ever recall it being in his life.  

“As impressive as I believed it to be,” the Nightmare purred, and the glow of her purple eyes seemed to intensify as she gave another nicker. “And to think, your silly little order would keep something like this from the rest of the world.” Alexander began to mutter a vow one more time, a promise to keep such things and thoughts strictly between himself and whomever he chose as his mate. 

Then he felt something hot and wet upon his flesh.  A howl of raw, primal ecstasy left his lips. The dragonborn’s golden eyes bulged and his hips bucked upwards involuntarily as he gazed down and watched Nyx’s equine muzzle slowly, teasingly moving up and down his malehood. There was a pressure in his loins, and he twitched and spasmed slightly, whimpering as the new sensations overpowered him.  The dragonborn’s thick shaft twitched, and a burst of precum filled Nix’s mouth as she ran her agile tongue around the sensitive, virgin flesh.  He could feel harder objects gently brushing against his sensitive cock, and in the back of his mind he knew that they had to be her fangs, as though she was reminding him that while she could defile his body in so many achingly pleasant ways, she could do quite a bit more to him as well. 

The message was simple, and despite the war in his mind, and his by now thoroughly broken spirit pleading for mercy, Alexander understood it: she was in charge, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

The Nightmare’s muzzle came off his shaft with a wet, lewd ‘pop’ and she murred softly as she made a great show of swallowing the precum.  “Hmmmm, perfect.” Her eyes gleamed and she smirked once more.  Her heat scent washed over him once again, and the poor squire found himself pressing his hips upwards, his carnal, feral instincts and lusts desperate for more of those new sensations, even as his mind seemed to consign himself to this fate.  

Nyx’s only response was a throaty chuckle.  “There is something unbelievably delightful in watching you squirm like that, boy.   Watching someone so proud… so sure of himself, so…. Noble, now starting to understand what your body has been desiring for so long.” She placed a hoof, firmly but not painfully, upon his stomach, pinning him in place. 

“Please….”

“Please what? Let you go? Fuck you raw? Let you experience what you’ve denied yourself for so long?” There was a pregnant silence as the dragonborn realized that he didn’t know what he wanted at this point.  The Nightmare licked her lips once more. “Pleasure, shame, both, what you ultimately feel is up to you… but it’s time you scratched my itch.” 

Alexander trembled and squirmed on the ground as Nyx turned around and wafted her long, flowing tail back and forth a couple of times.  He caught a glimpse of her sodden, puffy lips, and gasped.  The pheromones that she was flooding the air with cascaded over him one last time, and his self control, worn down by her tormenting and the weeks of nightmares, shattered.  Growling in lust, the instinctive urges to breed mixing with memories of the carnal pleasure sending tingles down his spine, the dragonborn got to his feet, his tattered and torn leggings and armor slumping down and falling around his ankles.  His malehood throbbed, his balls ached and felt like stones as he panted for breath, 

His eyes were glued to Nyx’s backside and he walked towards her. She shook her head and mane, smiling coyly at him, lifting her tail and spreading her flanks a bit.  

He grabbed her muscular rear legs, and began to try and line himself up with her pussy, when she suddenly lowered her tail. 

“What?”  Alexander looked at her, mystified, his chest heaving as he panted. The need burned in his mind, and he felt as though he could go mad if he didn’t sate himself.  Her laughter assaulted his ears once again.  

“Beg, boy.  Beg to be allowed to fill me.” She said, her voice like liquid honey.  

A soft growl left his throat, deep and feral, but he realized, in the part of his mind that wasn’t entirely consumed by his newfound base urges, what she was doing. She was proving that she was in control.  He couldn’t relieve himself of this without her, and he was under her sway and that there was nothing that he could do about it.  

“Please…” he whispered. 

“Please what?” she echoed.

“Let me fuck you.” Words he’d never expected to ever leave his lips, and yet the tumbled forth before he could even think to stop himself.  

“Louder.”  

“Please…Nyx… I need to… please let me fuck you.” He said. His hands trembled as he gripped her equine flank, her dark hair shimmering in the light. The hair was soft, silken almost, very different from the coarse coat that most of the horse’s he’d ridden on had been.  

She smiled and raised her tail once more, lowering her backside to make things a little easier for him. “There’s a good boy.  Now, my sweet little knight to be, give me what I need and I will promise you the peace you so badly crave.” 

Alexander didn’t need to be told twice.  The years he’d spent fighting such creature, the promises he’d made, they were lost now on the blinding cloud of lust and desire that ran rampant through him. He pressed the swollen tip of his shaft against Nyx’s pussy, shuddering at the warmth that emanated from the winking, throbbing netherlips.  She snorted and let out a moan of her own, wiggling her thick, stout flank and pressing back against him.  Unable to contain himself any longer, the dragonborn [i]thrust[/i] his hips forward and sunk into her depths. 

A choking gasp of pleasure and raw ecstasy left his lips and he spasmed slightly, his world going white and spots dancing in front of his eyes as the sensations crashed over him. 

[i]Warm. Wet. Tight. Bliss.[/i] Those were his thoughts, and his hips trembled as he tried to sink as deep into her inviting cunt as he could. The Nightmare added her own moan of pleasure, shaking her head and stamping her forelegs into the earth, her tight, wet channeling rippling around Alexander’s thick flesh, pulsing and contracting, trying to milk his body of the life-giving seed trapped deep within his pendulous balls. 

“Mmmmmmh, yessss,” the equine creature hissed, the metal bands on her hind legs rubbing against her lover’s abdomen as she rocked back against him, flicking her tail to tickle his chest. “There are… ahhh yes…. Few things more enjoyable than deflowering your kind…” She looked back over her shoulder at him as he humped away, lewd, wet ‘smacks’ filling the air every time that his crotch slapped against her backside.   

Alexander panted, not from the effort, but from being overwhelmed by the sensations of it all. Everything he had known was being cast aside as his first few awkward thrusts started to grow faster, and he began to find a rhythm with the Nightmare.  Shame, the taboo of rutting with a monster, everything was gone as he grunted and moaned, pushing his bloated cock as deep as he could with every thrust of his hips. 

He gazed at her, enraptured by her glowing eyes, half-lidded with her own lusts, her rich, sweet scent reminding him of how ‘vulnerable’ she was right now, and what the inevitable outcome of this forbidden union would bring.  His envisioned her in the coming days, her powerful, stocky frame swollen, her stomach thick and heavy with the foal that he would spawn in her.  The horror was gone, replaced instead by a burning lust to see that vision come to fruition. Draconian instincts to breed the fertile Nightmare urging him onwards, harder and faster.  

“That’s it, boy,” Nyx cooed in a soft, almost loving manner, a bit of light reflecting off her glasses as she shook her head. “Give me what I need.” She fluttered her eyes, the glowing, haunting beauty of them boring into his mind and soul. “Hmmm, yes, I knew you’d be a good pick.”

“Good…” he moaned, enraptured, almost a thrall to the desire coursing through him as Nyx squeezed his large shaft, her pussy like a glove of warm silk around the throbbing, pulsing organ.  “S-so…ahhhh….” He tightened his grip upon her as she shuddered, wiggling her wide hips and letting out a moan of her own as a large burst of his warm pre shot deep inside of her.  The sticky fluids practically flooded her tight passage, adding to the pleasure that both of them were feeling. 

“Yesss, that’s it, my sweet squire,” she cooed to him, her voice trembling in lustful need. “Embrace your urges, fuck me like a good ‘little’ stud.” She said as Alexander’s face screwed up in pleasure, his tongue practically lolling out of his muzzle as he slammed his hips against her again and again.  With every thrust, she could feel his large, heavy balls striking her rump, trembling and swollen.     

It felt so delightfully good to indulge in something like this after so long, to feel that thick, swollen pillar driving into her, another burst of his precum gushing into her depths, closer and closer to soothing the burning, aching need that cascading through her body. Alexander was rather well endowed, his thick shaft stretching her so wonderfully, quite a stud in the making, she knew (and to think that silly order of his would deny him being able to fulfill that ‘role’, it was practically shameful!) 

And it wasn’t just the physical pleasure that made her moan so wantonly, or issue a growling order for him to fuck her harder. It wasn’t just the way that throbbing hunk of dragonborn meat filled her sensitive, needy sex, it was the knowledge of just who was doing it.  In one fell swoop, she’d ‘corrupted’ a noble squire, popped his cherry, and made him forget, however briefly, that he’d been raised to hate her kind, and now he was about to help her sire another daughter or son.  The irony of it added another layer of ecstasy to it, and she smirked as another shudder of raw pleasure blasted through her. Oh, she’d be using his ‘services’ again, in time.  

Another warm, sticky glop of Alexander’s precum flowed into her and she clenched down harder, rocking her hips backwards furiously, their bodies slamming against one another with almost bruising force.  He wasn’t going to last much longer, not with the way that he was panting and trembling, but truth be told, she was surprised that he had lasted this long anyway. From what she knew of dragonborn, though, what the relatively inexperienced dragonborn lacked in staying power, he would make up in resilience.

She shuddered in delight once more as the teasing thought of teaching this delightfully well-endowed squire a thing or two about pleasing a female danced through her mind.  Ohhh, but that would be fun, she thought, before grunting as another powerful thrust knocked a bit of the wind from her body.  Closer and closer the squire got, gasping, panting, leaning down to where he was pressed against her back for better leverage, his thrusts becoming shorter, faster.  

“Come on, Alexander… fill me… give me your essence!” she moaned rapturous delight. 

The dragonborn prepared to do just that. He could feel a pressure building up in his loins and in his balls, as the great, plump orbs drew up closer and closer to his body, preparing to unleash the life-giving cargo contained deep with.  On an instinctive level the squire understood what was happening, as his body demanded that he continue to rut the Nightmare, and he whimpered and groaned as he felt the tightness increasing, his cock bloated and throbbing, hurtling him towards something that filled him with simultaneously anticipation, eagerness, and dread. He couldn’t have stopped himself even if he wanted to as he tightened his grip on Nyx’s flanks to the point where it was almost painful. 

Something welled up in his chest, deep and powerful, and he could feel himself teetering upon the edge.  Nyx gave a well timed, skillful squeeze of her sodden cunt, and the tunnel contracted around his shaft like a vice. That was all that it took.  Alexander’s eyes bulged, his jaw dropped open and a powerful roar split the air as he slammed home once last time, hilting his shaft as deep into the Nightmare as he could.  His balls visibly pulsed and his cock expanded just a fraction of an inch more as a torrent of his cum exploded out of the swollen head of the shaft. Nestled up against Nyx’s innermost regions, her tunnel was flooded in an instant as the dragonborn’s first climax crashed over him. 

It was bliss, the most wonderful, deliciously potent feeling that he had ever felt in his nineteen years of life.  Nyx whinnied in delight, her own climax claiming her as his hot, potent seed shot deep into her fertile, ripe womb.  There was another pulse, another flood, and again, and again.   It seemed to go on forever as her cunt contracted around his cock, milking the throbbing shaft of all that it had to give.  Some of it managed to get past the seal that was forming from Alexander’s sheer girth, mixing with her own feminine fluids and splattering against his thighs and crotch, a heady, musky cocktail of both of their scents filling the woods around them as the dragonborn bred and rutted her again and again. But for every drop that leaked out, a score more flowed deep inside of her, filling her up and mixing within her womb.  

The beautiful  nightmare felt a pressure inside of her own body as she wiggled her hips and cried out again and again in wanton, carnal delight, swearing that she could [i]hear[/i] the dragonborn’s nuts churning as he filled her so delightfully.  On and on his climax went, him whispering her name as she grunted in delight. Oh yes, they were doing this again, she knew. She’d visit him again in time, perhaps making his dreams more pleasant, if this was the sort of stuff he could offer her.  

She could feel her belly starting to bulge from the raw torrent of virile seed that the squire was pumping into her, and she coaxed him on, stroking his shaft, teasing him with her tail, stomping her hoofs against the ground. 

“That’s it, boy, fuck me, give me what I need,” she growled, and he did so eagerly and obediently. 

In time, though, it had to end, and his torrent became a trickle.  She looked back over her shoulder at him as he slumped against her back, panting, his eyes rolling about in his head, looking half-stunned from his first ever climax. He still held onto her tightly, but that seemed more to avoid collapsing to the ground in an undignified heap than anything else.  First times were always intense, she thought with a smirk. Especially when [i]she[/i] was the one popping the cherry.  

“Very good, Alexander,” she cooed to him, shaking her head and sending her blonde mane aflutter.  “Now catch your breath and gather your thoughts.”

“What… what do you mean?” he asked, looking up at her, and she could seem some vestiges and hints of shame in his eyes, before an aftershock made him spasm. 

“While you’ve done well for a first time, you don’t think that’s all there is to this?” She said, her smile turning to a sly, wicked grin. “I can assure you, my sweet squire, that it takes a lot more than one round to satisfy a Nightmare.” 

Alexander gulped. 

xXx

A few months had passed since Alexander had found himself ‘waylaid’ and seduced by the Nightmare.  For hours, they’d mated, rutting like beasts, with him driving his shaft deep into her sodden, eager snatch, his balls unloading a seemingly endless torrent of seed into her ripe body. All the while, Nyx had been ‘teaching’ him. Sometimes she was on all fours. Sometimes she was on her back, splayed out ‘helplessly’ as he bucked into her in a more conventional manner. At the end, she’d even ridden him, with her front hooves on either side of his shoulders and her great, muscular hind legs bucking up and down with ease as he thrust upwards into her, her belly swollen with his cum, so much of it he swore that he could hear it slosh when she moved. Even now, the image still brought a blush to his face and a shameful tightness to his pants, knowing what he’d done, how he’d ‘broken’ and served her, breeding her just so she’d leave him alone. 

He’d wandered back eventually, and had never told anyone of the incident, of the oaths that he’d broken, the vows he’d cast aside.  He kept at his duties, continued as normal, and hoped that this would be something that he’d eventually be able to put behind him. 

But as the days turned into weeks, and then into months, he still found his mind drifting to the Nightmare that had seduced him. He found himself wondering  as he lay in his room, preparing to sleep, where Nyx was, what she was doing. Sometimes he thought about the forbidden sensations that she’d coaxed out of him, the raw, carnal joy and ecstasy that her skillful ministrations had forced him to experience, and how a part of himself longed to experience it again. Other times, he wondered if she was tormenting some other poor soul, sending some other man or woman through the same ordeal.  Still others, he thought about what the offspring of their union might look like.  

He closed his eyes, exhausted by his trial that day, and drifted to sleep. He didn’t know how long he’d been in slumber when he became aware of his surroundings once more.  He was in some black, featureless plane, but he could still see clearly.  He knew that he had to be dreaming, on some instinctive level he knew.  What he did not expect was something to blur out of the darkness and approach him.  The flaming hooves and blonde mane gave away her identity, as did her purple eyes.  

“Nyx,” he said softly. 

“Hello, Alexander,” she purred,  walking forward, a smirk upon her face.  

“I thought you said you would leave me alone.” 

“I said that I would grant you peace, I said nothing about leaving you alone forevermore.” Nyx giggled as she spoke, shaking her mane slightly, her tail twitching. “And you’ll note you’ve never had another nightmare since.  So I’ve kept my end of the bargain.”  Her smile grew wider. “I just thought that it would be good to check in on you after a while, as there’s someone who wanted to meet you.” 

Before the dragonborn could say anything, He caught a bit of movement behind the Nightmare, and to his shock, he saw what seemed to be a miniature version of the creature in front of him. Identical to her in everything except her eyes, which were a brilliant gold.  He felt a flutter in his chest, something he couldn’t truly describe, as he walked forward, his hands trembling slightly as he stepped towards his daughter.