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Skyrim and the Journey of Cerise Ch. 01

By: DocCIS



Chapter 01 - Helgen

Author's note: The idea of this story came to me with the release of Bethesda's Skyrim game (PC). As sexier armor mods came out, the story came to me as I played my main character. Now with the Creation Kit released and the game changing dramatically with various mods, I decided to roll a new game, playing out the story as I wrote it.

All the names, encounters, and storyline—besides the sex scenes obviously—are written in conjunction to playing the game. "Skyrim" and "The Elder Scrolls" and its characters are the property of Bethesda Game Studios. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the Bethesda and the various mod authors for additional content in the game.

Upon request I can give a list of suggested mods if you play the game and are curious on how I have changed the game to go with the story; however, realize this story does follow the game, so is an obvious SPOILER if you have not progressed fully into it.

Obvious liberties have been made for the story to be more erotica than a fantasy. I hope you enjoy, as this is a departure from my normal stories and the difference is a nice change of pace! It is not as carnal as my other stories, but again, is a nice change of pace...

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I am a priestess and daughter of Dibella, in both a spiritual and physical sense. To the cultured, Dibella is the goddess of love and beauty, to the more seedy denizens of the world, the goddess of erotic arts and sex. She is the patron saint of women, although some merely believe her overseeing whores and harlots. She is the embodiment of all that is female and none should forget for they shall instill her wrath. None have known her vehemence more than I, which is the product of this tale.



Dibella is all I have described and more. To me she is both my goddess and mother, again both in the spiritual and physical sense, but I get ahead of myself.

This is a tale of truth in so much as I recite the occurrences and actions of those around me as they pertain to me. I ask of you to believe, for how could such a story be less than the truth? No mind could envision such a saga. Even in the throes of madness would the tale I am about to embark upon you not occur, for nobody could imagine such an account from the darkest recesses of their mind. Not even the Daedric Lords—aware of my true identity—could invent a story as outlandish as the truth.

You will find both the epitome of degradation from many of the humanoid species, as well as their nobility and kindness. I tell the story as it is, no embellishments or fanciful ideas of how I came to my own self-awareness after all had been taken from me but my body, my name, and the few inherited powers of my mother.

The world moves at the whim of the gods and goddesses, and we are but the pawns in their schemes. I now tell how I was the most minor and most significant of chess pieces, and why one should never attempt to gain the notice of the Divines...

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The first sensation I became aware of as consciousness came back to me was an inability to breathe. I panicked, thinking I was drowning until I comprehended something was in my mouth. My tongue was pressed to the bottom of my oral cavity and as I tried to talk, my ears filling with a "Grlgack" sound as an object rested at the entrance of my throat preventing me to breath. Becoming more awake, I realized the object in my mouth was moving back and forth at a fast pace, saliva pooling in my mouth and lubricating the object as it repeatedly embedded itself into my throat.

My eyes still closed, I became aware of another sensation, that of intense throbbing. The pain was extremely localized on my chest, and as I became further aware of my surroundings I realized the sensation was actually intense pleasure, my nipples being squeezed brutally causing my body to become hot with desire.

The next sensation I comprehended was extreme pleasure filling me repeatedly. As my mind cleared I understood it coming from my womanhood, feeling another object which, like that in my mouth, repetitively slid in and out of my person.

The sounds of creaking—a wagon of some sort I realized—surrounded me, as did the sounds of horses moving at a slow pace. All of those were muffled by the sounds of my body, the loud "Gackth...ackd...gackth" noises from my mouth and a continuous slapping and squishing sound coming from further down.

Awareness came to me slowly, preceded by an intense feeling of lust as I moaned deeply.

"She's coming to," I heard above me.

"Should we stop?" another voice came to the side of me.

"Fuck that, if this is my last piece of ass before I stand in the halls of my ancestors, I'm going to empty my sack completely," I heard above me, the voice rising and falling in rhythm to the thrusting in and out of my pussy.

I moaned again as a wave of pleasure from my lust overcame my body.

"Shit, her mouth is moving now...oh fuck, I'm cummmming!" I heard clearly.

Suddenly my mouth was flooded with a warm fluid, and I instinctively began swallowing. My throat was parched, so the warm syrup-like fluid wetted it and I moaned in relief, like finding water after days in the desert.

I sucked harder, wanting more of the life-giving fluid as I felt my body come alive as the liquid entered my stomach, rejuvenating me.

"Oh yeah bitch, suck that cock," I heard above me. "By the gods, this slut can suck cock better than any wench I've had, whether she's awake or unconscious," I heard, a feeling of pride filling me oddly.

The warm member in my mouth began deflating as I felt it slipping from my lips. I let out a quiet moan of loss, sounding like a mewling cat as I once again could breathe through my mouth, the obstruction nw gone.

"Oh gods, her cunt is getting even tighter, I can't hold out!" I heard above me.

Again a feeling of rejuvenation hit me as I felt my abdomen warm itself from the inside out, a heavy weight falling upon me forcing my legs to spread further apart, my breasts smashed against me. I smelled garlic and onions as somebody panted next to my face, understanding somebody was lying on me. Yet my whole being was focused on the pulsing cock in my pussy as my muscles instinctively milked it dry.

Eventually, as with the member previously in my mouth, I felt it slowly deflate and slide out of my pussy. I tried to clench my muscles as I was taught by...by whom I wondered. Somebody had taught me something, but the thought escaped me as I felt the weight upon me shift as a man rolled off me.

I began to feel alive again, the cum in my pussy and stomach awakening my body as I opened my eyes, immediately blinded by the sun shining through the trees.

I felt the world rocking until I realized the sounds of the wagon were in time to the motion, as a hawk cried overhead. Soon I was able to make sense of my surroundings as I looked around me.

I was lying on my back in a bed of straw, the blades of dried grass digging into my bare back and ass. My hair also had blades of straw tangled in it and I felt similar blades embedded between my ass cheeks. Absently I wondered how I was going to pull those out without looking like...again my thoughts left me as if a cloud of fog rolled over a bay.

I was basically naked, wearing only a short skirt made of burlap currently bunched up around my waist as if it were a belt. I also had on a pair of sandals, a thin cord of leather crisscrossing up my calves to hold them on. Other than that, I was unclothed, my breasts displayed before the men sitting around me.

Looking down, I saw my aforementioned breasts reddened, the imprints of fingers and hands still visible.

There were benches were on both sides of the wagon, which seated six men, three who looked at me with lecherous grins. The men were wearing dark blue quilted uniforms, a belted leather strap across their chests holding empty sheaths for weapons. They also wore cotton breeches tied around their waste with a cord, and leather boots. They were all dressed similarly as I concluded them to be some sort of military unit.

And from the looks and feeling of my body, they had just had their way with me.

My mind was still groggy, but the feeling of satisfaction coming from me was too good to accuse them of rape. I knew not how I got here, or how things had transpired, but something deep within me had welcomed the sexual assault, as if I needed it to once again feel alive.

Looking beyond the wagon I saw mountains covered in snow, pine trees scattered throughout the landscape. The world was waving back and forth, the steady motion of the wagon on the unkempt road causing my vision to move around like a ship on stormy seas as I again focused to the occupants of the wagon.

One of the men began speaking behind me and I looked over my shoulder at him. He had rugged features, having led a hard life, a scar of battle across his right cheek. His blonde hair was shaggy, in the typical long style of the Nords freely falling from his shoulders instead of in a ponytail many of the Bretons favored.

I tried to sit up, realizing my hands were bound by leather straps. Looking around, all the men were similarly trussed, and I wondered how desperate they must have been to fuck me and still be bound to make it manageable.

The Nord behind me spoke again as I now made out his words, his language coming slowly to me as if I had not heard it for a long time and forgotten it, only to be reminded many years later. Again a fog rolled through my mind as I tried to grasp onto the thought before it escaped me. How long had it been since I had heard the Nord language?

"Hey you! You're finally awake," he said, his blue eyes piercing my soul as I looked up at him while lying in the middle of the wagon.

I could imagine the sight of me, naked except for a skirt bunched around my waist, my breasts bare before him and my legs spread wide. I could feel the warm liquid of whichever man had used me—or maybe more than one—oozing from my slit into the straw as I looked at him again, trying to comprehend his words.

"You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush; same as us, and that thief over there!" he said.

I looked to where he was looking and saw another man, squirrely in appearance in bedraggled homespun clothes.

He was hunkered in the corner, as if in pure misery as he spoke. "Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along!" he spat. "The Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell by now," he hissed at the blonde before looking at me. "You there," he said, "you and me shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants," he said.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now thief," the blonde-haired man said.

"Shut up back there," the driver of the wagon stated as I noticed him for the first time. He was wearing a leather cap and cuirass, another military style I realized, but different from those with me in the wagon.



"What's wrong with him, hunh?" the 'thief' said ignoring the wagon driver as he nodded his head to the other corner of the wagon.

I saw a large man sitting across from him on the bench, his hands bound like the rest of us, also wearing a cloth gag. The edges of his mouth were purpled from the loss of blood the tight gag caused, yet the man remained calm, simply looking at everybody in the wagon as another man spoke.



"Watch your tongue," the other man said. "You are speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King."

"Ulfric?" the 'thief' gasped. "The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion!" he stated.

I barely registered the exchange. The heat and passion of the use of my body diminishing as I now felt the cold wind of the northern air against my exposed skin. My nipples hardened in response as I pulled my legs together, the cooling liquid between them uncomfortable being exposed to the outside chill.

"If they captured you..." the unnamed thief gasped again drawing my attention. "Oh gods, where are they taking us?" he said plaintively.

The blonde-headed warrior said glumly, "I don't know where we're going," he admitted, "but Sovngarde awaits," he said ominously.

I almost laughed, knowing one's soul... What was I thinking about I wondered, again as if a fog rolled through my head sifting my memories. I was about to remember something, but the thought was as fleeting as trying to catch a dragonfly.

"No," the thief cried, "this can't be happening. This isn't happening!" he exclaimed as panic filled him.

The blonde man looked at him in sympathy, "Hey," he said, his tone of voice the type used for calming horses spooked into doing something dangerous. "What town do you hail from horse thief?" he asked.

"Why do you care?" the thief spat.

"Because a Nord's last thoughts should be of home," the blonde warrior said quietly.

"Rorickstead," the thief said at last. "I'm...I'm from Rorickstead," he said quietly as if to himself.

Shouts from outside the wagon caught our attention, as I saw us nearing the gates of a small village, the stone walls revealing a small keep with cylindrical parapets in the center. It was one of the gate guards who had yelled out.

"General Tullius sir," he said to somebody ahead of our wagon, "the headsman is waiting."

"Good," sounded a voice in front of us, "let's get this over with."

His words were an ominous greeting as we passed through the gates of the town; the only sounds being the wagon, horses, and wind as our small convoy made its way through the streets.

"Sheor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh..." the thief started praying.

At the mention of Dibella, I felt a reverberation go through my body, as if a loud gong had rang, the vibrations flowing through me. The name had such resonance I knew suddenly my name, as the thief continued.

"...Divines, please help me," the thief pleaded to the sky.

The only answer was the wind as I continued trying to remember. Dibella, that was why even unconscious I was able to pleasure the men. It was trained into me from...well, I could not remember when or how, but I recognized a part of who I was as the wagons slowly came to a stop.

"Look at him," the blonde warrior said with contempt, "General Tullius, the military governor...and it looks like the Thalmor are with him!" he exclaimed. "Damn elves," he spat, "I bet THEY have something to do with this," he said.

As he looked around, his face lit with recognition. "This is Helgen," he said. "I used to be sweet on a girl from here," he said whimsically. "I wonder if Ylmord is still making that mead with juniper berries," he reminisced, his thoughts chaotic as he tried to reason with his fate.

Some turn to religion, others their past, I thought as the blonde man continued his speech.

"Funny, as a boy, Imperial towers and walls used to make me feel safe," he chuckled morosely.

"Inside the house," a voice called from outside the wagon, drawing our attention.

I scooted up, the straw working its way further into my ass crack as I peered over the side of the wagon seeing a man and boy standing beside the wagon as we passed.

"Why?" the boy was protesting, "I want to see the soldiers," he said; however, the father forced him back into one of the wooden houses lining the street.

"Death to the Stormcloaks," somebody shouted as the guards opened the back of the wagon.

The guards stared at me lecherously as I sat in front of them in the wagon, my chest bare and my legs parted. Warmth flushed through my body at their stares.

At a time like this, I was getting aroused, what the hell was wrong with me I wondered. Yet I knew it to be true, my hardened nipples due not so much from the cold, but the open stares of the Imperial guards.

"Why have we stopped?" the thief asked the guards.

The blonde warrior answered, "Why do you think? It's the end of the line," he said ominously. "Let's go, we shouldn't keep the gods waiting," he stated as he climbed out of the wagon.



The thief and others followed, and once I could sit up and scoot to the edge, I did as well. As I stood, the burlap skirt fell down around my hips, once again covering my ass and crotch providing some modesty; however, I was still bare chested, a fact the surrounding guards' stares were not letting me forget.

"No! Wait!" the thief cried. "We're not rebels!" he pleaded as he started crying.

I felt a mixture of remorse and distaste at his weakness as the blonde warrior admonished him, "Face your Fate with some courage thief!"

The thief continued yelling out, "You got the wrong person. Tell them," he pleaded to the blonde warrior, "we weren't with you!" he said, as if it made any difference to the guards as he sank to his knees pleading.

"Step to the front as your name is called!" a female voice sounded.

Looking through the group I saw a female in a mixture of studded leather armor and plate, a plate helm on her head. She wore a skirt of hammered plates of steel while her greaves reached up to mid-calve, the skin of her legs, arms, and face bared and tanned. There was a strong beauty about her I thought as I felt myself yearning to touch her skin to see if it was as soft as it looked.



"Lists," the blonde warrior mumbled next to me, "the empire just loves their damned lists."

Meanwhile the thief was still crying, mumbling incoherently, though he slowly stood up.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm," a male guard announced.

At the mention of his name, the large gagged figure moved out of line towards what I now noticed was a dais, a hooded headsman standing next to a block of wood. The headsman wore only leather breeches besides his hood, holding a large two-handed axe easily with one hand.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric," the blonde warrior stated as the man moved to stand before the headsman.

"Ralof of Riverwood," the guard intoned.

The blonde man moved forward at the sound of his name as I watched him too join the Jarl of Windhelm at the dais.

"Lokir of Rorickstead," the guard said.

Suddenly the thief cried out, "No, I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" he exclaimed in panic.

Then in a rush he broke from the group, running down the road while the guards shouted "Halt!"

I moved forward to stop him, but with my hands bound, by the time I got to the front of the line he was already several yards ahead of me.



"Archers!" the female commander shouted.

Immediately the air sounded with the 'twang' of bows as the thief crumpled to the ground, six arrows sticking out of his body as if appearing by magic. Blood slowly pooled around his body as he lay dead in the road, the guards merely walking around him like he was offal from the horses.




Skyrim and the Journey of Cerise Ch. 01



"Anyone else feel like running?" the female commander spoke before the rest of us.

As we stood there quietly she motioned for the guard calling out names to continue.

Looking at me, the guard looked perplexed at the tome in his hands. "Wait, you there, step forward," he said to me as I reluctantly complied.

Looking at me, his eyes immediately locking onto my bared breasts, my nipples hardening in response, he grinned at my nakedness. "Who are you?" he asked.



I pulled my shoulders back, thrusting my breasts further forward as I stated, "I am Cerise, priestess of Dibella," I stated, knowing the truth of my words at the revelation.



The guard looked taken aback while the men behind me chuckled. "I knew she was a slut when her body responded to our cocks like that."

Ignoring the crowd, the guard looked at me as he asked, "Fleeing from Daggerfall Breton?" ignoring my claim of being a priestess.

"I am originally from Cyrodill," I stated, the words sounding hollow.

"Captain, what should we do?" he asked the female commander behind him, "She's not on the list," he told her.

"Forget the list," the captain spat, "She goes to the block with the rest of them," the woman stated.

"By your orders," the guard said, looking back at me. "I'm sorry," he said apologetically. "I'll make sure your remains return to the temple in High Rock," he said.

I was about to tell him my remains would end up with my mother, as again the haze of my memory clouded, forgetting what I was about to say. Visions of beauty, relaxation, and pure emotion assaulted me as the thought slipped through my mind like water through a sieve.

The guard told me to follow the captain who walked towards the dais where the others were standing. As I followed, my eyes were drawn to her tanned, well-muscled thighs, her plated skirt brushing against the backs of them. Her cuirass I noted was well hammered out, providing ample room for her breasts as I imagined what they looked like beneath the metal.



Suddenly a strange rumble echoed in the distance, grabbing my attention as I moved towards the front of the line, although it seemed nobody else noticed it.

Standing before Ulfric was another man in an officer's uniform. As he spoke, I recognized the voice of General Tullius. "Ulfric Stormcloak," he uttered. "Some here in Helgen call you a hero." He said the words as if they tasted foul in his mouth as he continued, "A hero doesn't use the power of the voice to murder the king and usurp his throne, does he?" the General asked the gagged man.

Ulfric merely grunted as the general continued.

"You started this war!" the general stated vehemently, "plunging Skyrim into chaos. And now the Empire is going put..you...down," he enunciated loudly, "and restore the peace!"



Again the strange roar in the distance echoed through the valley, louder this time and catching everybody's attention as we looked around.

"What was that?" one of the guards asked to nobody in particular.

"It's nothing," General Tullius stated, "carry on," he instructed the female captain.

"Yes General Tullius, sir!" she exclaimed. Looking towards a woman in robes, she instructed, "Give them their last rites."



In the back of my mind I thought a priestess of Kynareth could not speak for a daughter of—no, I corrected myself, a priestess...my mind echoed, a priestess of Dibella I again thought.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius," the priestess intoned, another reverberation echoing through my body at the mention of the Immortal Plane. A quick vision of a castle bathed in sunlight and flowers filled my mind, just as quickly disappearing as the priestess continued. "Blessing of the Eight Divines..."

Suddenly one of the men in line moved forward, "For the love of Talos, shut up!" he told the priestess as he walked to the headsman and his wooden block. "Let's get this over," he said kneeling down and placing his head on the block.

"As you wish," the guard captain said, her plated boot rising and pressing on the man's back as he kneeled before the block to hold him in place.



"Come on, I haven't got all morning!" the man said with false bravado. As the headman raised his axe, he said, "My ancestors are smiling down at me Imperials, can you say the same?"

I could only stare in morbid fascination as the blade flashed, streaking down and passing easily through the man's neck into the wood beneath, a loud 'thunk' echoing through the courtyard. Continuing to watch, the man's head parted from his body, falling into the basket in front of him while his body slid to the side, his neck sprouting streams of blood splashing the officer's boots and wooden block.

"You Imperial bastards," one of the other prisoners shouted—a woman I noted, realizing I was not the only one in the group. She must have been in another wagon as I was the only one in ours. I briefly wondered if she had been used as I, but seeing her wearing a Stormcloak uniform, I doubted it. I must have been the only one dressed—or undressed as the case may be—in rags.

The crowd around the courtyard shouted obscenities, some screaming "Death to the Stormcloaks!" while others shouted "Justice!" as the body laid before me, the blood now down to a slow trickle from the stump of his neck.

"As fearless in death as he was in life," I heard Ralof say next to me.



"Next, the Breton," the captain stated looking at me.

As I stepped forward I heard some of the guards talking. "Pity to waste a hot piece of ass," one said. I overheard another say, "She claims to be a priestess of Dibella, maybe you can still do her after the headsman is through with her," he laughed grossly.

The morbid humor was forgotten as another cry echoed through the wilderness. The roar seemed almost familiar, although I could not place its origin or race as again everybody looked around.

"There it is again," one guard said, while another commented at the same time, "Did you hear that?" he said to the captain.

Nonplussed, the captain yelled out, "I said next prisoner!" she exclaimed as I stepped forward.

I saw the headsman staring at my uncovered breasts and felt another twinge of desire—such an odd time and place to feel aroused I thought, kneeling down towards the basket containing the last man's head.

"By the Divines, look at that cunny," I heard behind me, "she's as bare as a newborn! By the gods I bet she is tight," the voice said as the guard captain told him to quiet down. I realized the short skirt had once again risen up as I knelt forward, giving a good view of my ass and slit to those behind me.

I felt cold steel on my back as my body was forced forward, knowing the captain had placed her steeled boot on me to hold me still. Before me was the basket holding the head of the previous prisoner, his eyes opened and looking over my shoulder as if on the heavens above as I turned my head to look at the headsman.



Again the roar in the wilderness came, only much louder as I saw a shadow skirt across the sky, an object larger than I could comprehend quickly obscured by the tower behind us.

"What in Oblivion is that?" shouted a guard.

I saw the headsman turn around as shouting erupted around us.

"Sentries!" the female captain shouted, "What do you see?" she cried out.

Immediately the roar came again, this time so loud if my hands were not bound I would have held them over my ears. As such, the full force of the cry reverberated through me, the ground shaking as if in response. I looked up, my eyes beholding a sight both wondrous and frightening as the wing shape landed upon the top of the tower.

"Dragon!" shouts came out around me as a general alarm sounded.

Forgotten by those around me, I could only kneel in place as prisoners fell to the ground as the guards drew their swords and bows.

The dragon roared again, the sound deafening as it suddenly looked down at me. Our eyes met, and I almost felt recognition as the dragon stared at me.



The moment was short-lived as arrows filled the sky, hitting and bouncing off the dragon's scales as if he were made of stone. Another sound came from the beast, a mixture of words and sounds as the sky suddenly grew dark, the ground quaking at the utterance from the dragon.

In my mind, I almost recognized the words—for I knew it was speech—but again the fog clouding my memory came as the dragon roared again, this time flames erupting from its mouth into the courtyard.

The dragon uttered another Word, and suddenly I felt my consciousness slipping away, the sounds of fighting a dim resonance in my mind as I passed out.

I must have not been out long as I felt hands on my shoulders, recognizing Ralof's voice as he yelled at me, "Are you alright? This way!" he shouted above the chaos of sounds and fighting around us.

I looked around and saw many fires all over the village, some of them actually stone buildings burning. I heard the dragon rumble above us as Ralof shoved me into a guard shack where other prisoners were hiding. Several bodies lay around as the door was shut behind me.





"Jarl Ulfric," Ralof asked, "what is that thing?" he shouted. "Could the legends be true?"

I saw Ulfric, his gag removed, look at everybody around him. "Legends don't burn down villages," he stated matter-of-factly. "We need to move, now!" he yelled to those around him pointing up the stairs of the keep.

I followed the others, the chaos around me overcoming caution as we climbed up the stone stairs.

Suddenly a loud explosion arose, the wall before me crumbling to dust and debris as the head of the dragon came into the opening, the roar of its voice booming through the building followed by a jet of fire. The heat of the fires caressed my bare breasts as I struggled to keep my balance. I watched as the very stones burst into flames before the dragon moved out of the area, leaving the gaping hole in the wall before me.

The stairs were littered with debris both in front and behind us as Ralof grabbed my shoulder. "Get yourself a weapon, we're going to need it if we come across any Imperials," he said, as if a forty foot dragon had not just seconds before thrust its head through solid stone.

Pointing below me, I saw a house with the thatched roof gone, nothing but ashes remaining as he said, "Below, jump down and get out, we'll follow if we can," he said.



Before I could acknowledge him one way or another, his hand grabbed my waist, throwing me out the hole! I struggled to land on my feet into the house below as I fell to the house below.

As I landed, my loose breasts bounced all over, swaying counter-clockwise as I kept my balance. Looking around at the wreckage of the house, I saw the same boy from earlier, realizing he was in his late teens, if not already an adult. His eyes widened at the sight of a half-naked woman falling from the sky as the dragon roared outside.

Seeing a hole in the floor to the ground, I jumped down, yelling at the boy to follow as the sounds of fighting and roars of the dragon reverberated around us. We ran out of the house, immediately amongst a crowd of Imperial guards crouched at the doorway.



Suddenly the dragon landed before us as one of the guards shouted, "Get back!"

As if on cue the dragon opened its mouth, a jet of flame shooting past us and exploding the house I had just left.



"Prisoner!" somebody shouted, a hand grabbing my bare shoulder as I was spun around. I recognized the guard who had taken my name. "Still alive I see," he said as I noticed even in the current dangerous situation his eyes moved to my bare breasts.

Even more strange I felt myself responding to his lecherous stare.

"Keep close to me if you want to stay that way," he said, moving down the street. "Keep close to the wall!" he shouted as I placed my back against the stone.

I was expecting the stone to be chilled; however, it was warm, almost hot to the touch as I heard the dragon's roar through the village. Glancing around, I saw bodies everywhere—some charred black, only the faint outline of human shape recognizable, while others seemed to have been curiously killed by the sword.

Suddenly the ground shook and a shadow came over us. Raising my head, I again stared into the eyes of the dragon as it looked down, having landed right above us on the wall. Once again I felt intelligence of another being as we met each other's gaze, feeling another moment of recognition as its eyes met mine. It uttered another Word, the meaning again slipping through my consciousness as I tried to grasp its meaning.



The sky once again flooded by arrows, bouncing harmlessly off the dragon's scales as it took flight again.



"Quickly," the guard shouted to me, "follow me!"

We made our way past the burnt remains of several buildings until coming to a downed tower blocking the way. After a few moments the soldier found a path through one of the partially destroyed houses, leading us to the other side of the courtyard.



As we came out, a scene of pandemonium met us as people were running around and shouting everywhere. Bodies were littered throughout the courtyard as the guard led me towards General Tullius, his armor now seared and covered in soot.



"Everybody gather up, we are leaving!" he shouted, pointing towards the gates at the other end of town.

The guard with me pulled me in that direction as another person ran towards us, immediately recognizing Ralof, as did the soldier with me.



"Ralof, you damned traitor," the guard with me yelled as I acknowledged the blonde warrior, now armed with a wide Imperial sword, blood on his quilted tunic. "Out of my way!" he shouted.

"I'm escaping this madness!" Ralof said to him in return. "You're not stopping us this time," he said.

"Fine," the guard said, the circumstances of a fire-breathing beast overhead putting a temporary truce between them. "I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!" he yelled, running into a building.

"You," Ralof said to me, "into the keep," he shouted while at the same time the guard yelled, "Quickly prisoner, we need to stick together!"

I stared as the two men in opposite directions, feeling doubt fill me as to which to follow. In the end, it came to the simple fact the Stormcloak had not just tried to decapitate me like the Imperials had before the dragon arrived.

I followed him into another tower of the keep as he shut the door behind us, the thick door quieting the cacophony outside. Compared to the barrage of noise in the courtyard, the keep's silence was almost eerie.



The body of another Stormcloak was at the foot of the stairs as Ralof knelt by him to check for signs of life. "We'll meet in Sovngarde, brother," he whispered as he stood up.

"Looks like we're the only ones who made it," he said to me. "That thing was a dragon! No doubt," he exclaimed, surprise and wonder filling his voice. "Just like the children's stories and legends," he said, "the harbingers of the end of times."

As he looked around, he said to me, "We'd better get moving. Come here, let me see if I can get those bindings off you," he said, pulling out a dagger.

He quickly cut away the leather holding my wrists together as I rubbed them to regain feeling in my hands.

Looking down at my breasts he grinned, then nodded to the corpse as he said, "Although I would love to stare at your tits all day, if we have to fight, it's going to be distracting," he said. "You may as well take Gunjar's gear; he won't be needing it anymore."

He helped me take the tunic off the body and strip off the weapons as I began to put on the clothes. There was no blood on them and I wondered how he died, but sounds of fighting quickly banished those stray thoughts.

Ralof looked around, "Alright, while you get dressed, I'm going to see if I can find us a way out of here. Give that axe a few swings to get used to it once you are ready," he told me.

Pulling the Stormcloak tunic on, I realized Gunjar had a smaller build than I, unable to get the tunic past my shoulders. Taking the axe and cut the seams on both sides. Again pulling the tunic over my head, the two flaps of cloth at least provided some modesty, covering to my front and back, although it left my bare sides exposed, flapping as I moved.



Grabbing the belt also from the soldier, I cinched the tunic around my waist to hold it in place, as well as donning the cross-chest sheath Gunjar had to hold his axe. The leathered belt crossed between my breasts, holding the material closer to my body. My breasts were held tightly by the quilted material so I would be able to fight uninterrupted by their motion; however, the soft mounts of flesh stuck out the neckline and sides where the tunic was opened. I looked at my reflection in a plate on the table wondering whether this outfit was even more distracting than naked.



Turning around, Ralof looked at me, his eyes widening in surprise as he said, "If all the women looked so good in Stormcloak gear, we need to recruit more," he chortled as he crossed the room to an ironed portcullis.




Skyrim and the Journey of Cerise Ch. 01



"Damn, this gate must be locked on the other side," he said as we considered the only other way out—back into the courtyard with the dragon.

After slipping on the leather boots—thankfully fitting and extending over my knees for protection, I gave the axe a few swings. It was heavier than a sword; however, at this point beggars could not be choosers as sounds on the other side of the gate caught our attention.

"It's Imperials, take cover," Ralof whispered, pointing to the side of the iron gate as the sounds of running footsteps came closer.

"Get this gate open," I heard from the other side, recognizing the voice of the female captain.

The gate slowly began rising as the captain and another guard entered the room. Upon seeing us, she immediately cried, "Kill them!" as they drew their blades and moved towards us.

I had no time to think as I crouched into a battle stance, the position coming as familiar to me as breathing. I had little time to think about how I knew it as I uttered a Word of Power, my free hand glowing as a streak of flame—similar yet smaller than that from the dragon—erupted from my palm, hitting the soldier.

My awareness of magic startled them as much as I, but only for a moment as survival instincts took over. Ralof and the captain attacked each other while the guard came towards me, my hand still shooting flames at him.

I no longer thought as I let my body take over, deftly blocking his sword's thrust to my mid-section, parrying his blade and bringing the back of the axe into his shoulder in one movement. He grunted in pain as I again pointed my hand towards him, flames erupting from my palm as he screamed.

The fire was not enough to thwart him long as I felt my energy ebbing, weariness entering my body as he charged again, slashing with his sword. I barely jumped back as he moved forward, my axe and his blade meeting each other several times as we both tried to get the other.

As the guard made another thrust towards me instinct once more took over as I deftly stepped aside and spinning around, the momentum of my body strengthening the swing of the axe, hit him directly in the back, the axe sinking into his spine.

Uttering a bubbled cry as blood filled his lungs he collapsed as I looked across the room. Ralof was holding his own against the captain, but it was an unarmored man against a fully armored woman. I also noticed Ralof having many cuts on him, his weariness showing.

Without a thought I leaped across the body of the soldier I had slain, bringing the blunt end of my axe down upon the guard captain's helm as she crumpled to the floor.

Ralof nodded to me, out of breath as we both gathered our composure. Seeing a large slash along his arm, I moved towards him. He made to move away but I grabbed his arm and uttering another Word of Power, felt a healing balm flow through me.

As we both watched, the cleft between his damaged skin drew together, his muscle and flesh healing before our very eyes.

"By the gods," he muttered, "you truly do have the gifts of a priestess," he said.

I simply smiled as I leaned against the wall, the magic causing me to be more tired than I remembered. As I thought about why I should remember something in the past like using magic, the thought again left me. I shook my head as if from a dream, the stray thoughts of no consequence as we quickly searched the bodies—the guard captain apparently dead from the blow to the head I gave her.

I switched out the axe in place of her sword; however, her armor was too heavy for my small frame as I instead settled on the leather armor of the man I had slain. The lower half of the leather cuirass was soaked in blood, so using his dagger I cut the tunic in half and put it on. The cut top exposed my midriff just beneath my breasts, and I wondered at the small size of warriors as I laced up the front. Due to my large breasts, the lacings left a gap a couple inches wide in the front, showing off considerable cleavage. Based upon the appreciative looks of Ralof, if it were not for the current circumstances, the outfit would almost look sexy.

I put on the leather skirt the guard captain had worn beneath her plated one and felt more adequately protected than the quilted fabric of the Stormcloak tunic.



Ralof was able to put on the bracings from the guard captain; however, he elected to not wear her cuirass, the obvious shape of a woman's breasts more than he could handle, muttering how he would take his chances dying like a man than dressed as a woman.

"Come on," he said," we need to find a way out of here before that dragon brings this tower down on our heads."

As if to put emphasis on the statement, the entire ground shook as we heard the dragon roar outside.

Attired as well as we could be, we made our way out the way the guards came, finding a set of stairs leading deeper into the keep. Moving cautiously, the recent fight with the Imperials proving there was more to be wary about than mythical creatures, we made our down.



As we came to the bottom of the stairs we heard voices, so moving as silently as possible we approached. Upon turning around the corner we came upon several Imperial guards down the hallway. They immediately saw us and started running towards us when suddenly the ground once again shook, the roar of the dragon echoing through the keep as the hallway collapsed upon the soldiers, barely missing us.



We looked at the pile of rubble before us and realized we could not get past it.

"Damn, that dragon doesn't give up easily," Ralof said, trying the handle of a door in the hallway. "Come, it's unlocked," he said, moving into the room.

As we entered, we saw the area was split into two rooms, the room we were in being a mess hall of some sort, a large fireplace burning on one side. Through the opening to the other room we saw a pair of Imperial guards their backs to us. We crouched down, quietly moving towards the Imperials.



"Quick, grab anything important and let's move, that dragon is burning everything to the ground," the one soldier said.

We only made it halfway across the room when they spotted us, shouting in alarm as they drew their swords and came at us.

This time both came at me, apparently thinking a woman was the easier target as I raised the sword in my hand. I quickly uttered a Word of Power as once again fire erupted from my palm, scalding the two men, although their armor protected them from the heat as they continued their charge.

I blocked the attack of one, quickly moving to the side as the other attempted to cut my bare midriff. In an instant Ralof was upon the one to my side as I defended myself from the other guard. It was instantly apparent I was the better swordsperson as the guard went completely on the defensive, desperately fending off my thrusts and slashes hoping to wear me down.

Too soon he realized he was outmatched and turned to run; however, that was his worst mistake as I took three steps, plunging my sword into his back, as he fell to the ground.

Turning around to Ralof, I saw him quickly dispatch his opponent as well, bending down to search the corpse for anything useful.

"A storeroom," he said looking into the other room. "See if you can find anything useful," he directed as he put on some of these guards' armor—the obviously 'maleness' of the gear more to his liking.

Searching the storage bins, I found several potions, immediately recognizing them as healing elixirs, which we put in one of the saddlebags from the dead soldiers. We found several food stores as well, filling the bag with what we could—potatoes, cabbage, and a few leeks—taking as much as we could fit as we did not know what or where the future would lead us, but being prepared just in case.



After I finished Ralof beckoned me over to another door. "This seems to open into the hallway on the other side of the cave-in," he said, slowly opening the door in case any more soldiers were about. Seeing the hallway clear, we moved down it coming to another set of stone stairs leading down. With nowhere else to go, we slowly made our way down.

Ralof was ahead, and as he entered to room, he muttered, "Trolls blood, it's a torture room."



The sounds of fighting erupted as we saw two Stormcloaks fighting the headsman and another man. Without a thought we rushed in to assist. Coming from behind, the second man was dead before the first was aware of our presence. As his attention was drawn towards us, the Stormcloak woman he was fighting took the opportunity and ran her sword through his throat, the flood of blood splashing her and the ground as his body crumpled.



"Was Jarl Ulfric with you? Have you seen him?" Ralof asked his fellow warriors as we searched the bodies for anything of use.

"No, I have not seen him since the dragon came," the woman answered, recognizing the Stormcloak female I had seen in the courtyard.

Searching the rest of the room, Ralof suddenly said, "Wait a second, there's something in this cage." As we looked through, we saw a body with several potions scattered around it.

Immediately without knowing how, I sensed magic. "He was a mage," I said.

Not doubting me, Ralof said, "See if you can find a way into the cage, he might have something useful while I look for a way out."

Searching around we could not find a key; however, I did find several small lockpicks and crouched down to the lock. My body unconsciously knew what it was doing as the lock flew open after only a few seconds.

"There's more to you than meets the eye," Ralof said, as I searched the body of the mage. To the others he said, "Grab anything useful and let's go."

As I felt through the mage's robes, I again sensed magic, realizing the robes themselves were enchanted. Giving a quick prayer to the gods, I took the robe and stuck it in the saddlebag I was carrying, the sense of needing it in the future coming to me too hard to deny.

I also found several potions and some gold, which I quickly gathered up, then followed the Stormcloaks out into a passageway leading through a dungeon, the cells empty of occupants as we made our way deeper into the bowels of the keep.



Soon we came upon another torture room, several desiccated skeletons in holding cages hanging from the ceiling. At first we thought the room was no longer used until we came across a somewhat recent dead body in one of the cells. Making our way further into the room, we saw one wall with a hole in it leading further underground.



"This way," Ralof said, "we need to stick together," he said.

"What is this place?" the other male Stormcloak asked.

"If my thoughts are right, I'm hoping it's a way out, now be quiet," Ralof said as we made our way through the rough-hewn cave.

As we rounded a corner we heard voices.

"Our orders are to wait until General Tullius arrives," a voice said, immediately identifying them as Imperial guards.

Before anybody could act, the unnamed male Stormcloak let out a yell and ran into the room, attacking the guards. We immediately followed, the thought of how many guards barely registering as we came upon a granite room, a small stream running through it.



I was immediately set upon by an Imperial guard as I barely raised my sword in time. Shouting a Word of Power, the soldier screamed as lighting shot out of my other hand, causing him to convulse as I moved in and swung my sword.

The shock had startled him; however, his training kicked in as he expertly raised his sword to fend off my attack, his riposte nearly slicing open my stomach as I sucked in, barely avoiding his blow, the breeze from his sword caressing my stomach. Our swords met again as we each parried and counterattacked, neither of us gaining ground.

Suddenly out of the corner of my eye I saw movement and ducked, hearing the hiss of air above me. The soldier in front of me grunted in surprise and as I looked up, saw an arrow sticking out of his chest as he crumpled to the ground.

"Gods blast it," I heard across the room, seeing another Imperial guard drawing back an arrow.



I quickly ducked behind a pillar to avoid the ranged attack, a loud 'snick' coming to my ears as the arrow hit the stone. The rest of the room reverberated with steel on steel as the others fought.

As the archer grabbed another arrow from his quiver I sprinted forward to the next pillar, barely avoiding the shaft the guard hand strung and shot in one fluid motion. I felt more than saw the arrow fly by as I skirted around the pillar and ran forward, engaging the archer before he could draw again.

He fended off my first attack with his bow, which snapped in half as my sword cut through it, immediately drawing his blade. He took a defensive stance as I noted another archer further into the room drawing his bow.

I purposely kept my opponent between me and the other archer to avoid the same fate as my last opponent when the smell of oil drifted to me. Looking down, I saw the floor coated with the oily substance as I yelled back at Ralof who was closest to me, "Get back!" I shouted.



Without looking to see if he listened, I shouted another Word of Power as my hands erupted in flames. My opponent braced himself, obviously for the incoming flame when he laughed seeing I missed.

His mirth quickly converted to screams as the ground erupted in flames, the oil burning with a magical fire hotter than normal, catching both archers in its midst. Their dying screams caught the attention of the other guards fighting as the Stormcloaks quickly took advantage of the distraction.



The woman neatly decapitated one guard while the male Stormcloak ran his blade through the chest of the other, but not before the soldier awkwardly attempted to defend himself, slashing open his side even in his death throes.

While Ralof attended the wounded man, the woman and I searched the bodies, then the rest of the room.

"It looks like this passage follows the stream," she muttered. "This must be the keep's escape tunnel. I'll watch over him and help any others that may make their way through here, you two move ahead," she said.

I was about to protest when she looked at me, "You heard what they said, Tullius may be coming. This is the perfect place to ambush him, if we can kill him, this will be worth it," she said. "This is our fight, not yours, so you move ahead, Ralof will help guard you," she told us.

"Gods keep you safe shield-sister," Ralof said as he looked at me. "Come, let us find our way out of here," he said.



As the man and woman took position in the room, I wondered if I would ever see them again as I followed Ralof down the passageway.

After a few minutes we came to a drawbridge, which Ralof quickly lowered using a lever in the wall, revealing what was more a cave than man-made passageway, the loud sound of the stream flowing down the middle of the path obscuring all other sounds.



We made our way slowly, the sound masking not only our progress but anything ahead, so we moved cautiously to avoid coming across any other soldiers unexpectedly.

Suddenly the ground shook as Ralof pushed me forward, the sound of rocks falling drowning out all other sound. The dust was so thick we were coughing for several seconds before finally able to draw a clean breath. Looking behind us, we saw the passageway blocked by rubble.

"The others will have to find another way out," he said shaking his head. "Come, let's see where this leads," he stated as he made his way further into the cave, me following behind.



After a while we came to a branch in the cave, the stream running one way, another rough-hewn path angling away from it. Ralof checked the stream, telling me to wait behind, but after only a brief time came back.

"This way is a dead end, guess we try this way," he said as we made our way through the cave.



Eventually the passage opened into a large cavern; however, we stood at the entrance cautiously, the sight before us causing concern. Scattered throughout the room were various cocoon-like structures hanging from the ceiling, of varying sizes, the largest being as tall as a man. Webs were everywhere around the room as if a thousand spiders had been let loose, as we slowly entered.



Once we stepped fully into the room, the sound of continuous clicking sounded, and out of the corner of our eyes saw several shapes the size of dogs drop from the ceiling. Turning towards them, we realized to our horror they were spiders--giant spiders about three feet tall with reddened hair and beady black eyes that glared at us. Suddenly we realized the clicking sound was their chittering!



We had no time to be horrified as they suddenly charged us, two going for Ralof and the two larger ones coming after me as we prepared to defend ourselves.



The spiders confronted me side by side, and as I slashed at one, the second immediately came under my guard, the loud chittering filling my ears as intense pleasure entered my leg.



In shock I stared down at the spider which had bit me, two large puncture wounds on my thigh. I was bewildered as my mind tried to register the idea of feeling pleasure instead of pain. As I stood there, the two spiders strangely held off from attacking me, while my body was overwhelmed by lust.




Skyrim and the Journey of Cerise Ch. 01





I gasped as my breasts tightened and a welling heat surged between my legs. Sucking in another gasp, trying to contain the moan of desire I felt through my body, I watched as the spider I had slashed reared up, it's two front legs landing on my shoulders.

I should have been horrified as I stared at the large snapping mandibles, wet with ichor, in front of my face, yet all I could feel was my body flooded with desire.



The spider pushed forward and I fell on my back, the arachnid immediately moving over, its two forelegs still on my shoulders holding me down on the ground. I felt my legs spread apart by its other legs as I abstractedly noted how soft the hair was against my flesh, my skin getting goose bumps from the sensation.

The spider's mandibles moved down and I felt them pierce my shoulder, desire once again flooding my body, my hips involuntarily rising in response.

The back of my mind screamed as I was pinned down by the creature, my legs spread apart, the leather skirt sliding up my thighs.

Then another flood of desire poured through my shoulder and I could no longer keep it in, letting out an involuntary moan, the heat in my loins unbearable.

"Ahhh," I screamed out in pleasure as I felt a warm, firm, wet—something—press against my pussy. I gasped as I felt my lips spreading as it slowly entered me, my moans uncontrollable as feelings of pure desire swept through me. I let out another moan as the member inside me began moving back and forth, lubricated not just by its own moisture but that of my lust.

Looking down, I saw a large proboscis from the second spider extending from its head to between my legs. I watched as the spider rocked back and forth, the appendage moving in and out of me as I moaned in pleasure.

My mind screamed in horror while my mouth and body were overcome by lust as I was raped by the two creatures. Yet my body shook uncontrollably as moans and gasps of pure pleasure escaped my mouth.

I looked across my body, the soft hair on the underbelly of the spider holding me down stroking against my stomach, as I saw a flash of light out of the corner of my eye.

Immediately the spider raping me let out an inhuman scream, the appendage yanking out of me.

I moaned "No!" at the loss of the organ inside me, my body wanting nothing more than the sensation to continue, as the spider above me screamed a loud squeal, its full weight falling upon me.

The spider rolled off and I looked up to see Ralof standing over me, his sword covered and dripping with the steaming green ichor of the spiders he had killed.

"Are you alright?" he asked as I stared dumbly up at him, my legs still spread wide apart.

"By the gods, the stories are true," he said, bending down to tend my wounds. I heard tearing noises as he ripped makeshift bandages from his tunic, pressing them against the wounds on my shoulder and thigh as I could only look at him, afraid if I opened my mouth, the lust overcoming me would cause me to beg him to fuck me.

He continued speaking, "I had heard stories of Frostbite spiders, but never believed them. It's said their poison paralyzes a man, keeping him alive indefinitely as they feed off him wrapped within their cocoons. The poison is applied continuously, sustaining the body while keeping them incapacitated a fate worse than death," he said.

"In women," he went on digging into the saddlebag, "the poison has a different effect, being a powerful aphrodisiac. Alchemists across Skyrim prize it as it makes the imbiber overcome by lust. The spiders keep females in a constant state of arousal as they lay their eggs within their womb. The eggs eventually mature and hatch, the baby spiders devouring the woman from the inside out," he explained.

I shuddered as I realized what had been happening to me, the thought of being eaten alive from the inside out causing me to become nauseous.

"Here," Ralof said, holding a bottle which I recognized as a healing elixir. "Drink this, it should heal the wounds and counteract some of the poison. Without a steady injection the effects should wear off within several minutes, so we'll wait until you feel better."

We sat there for about 15 minutes as my body healed. Looking around the room beyond the carcasses of the spiders, I now realized the 'cocoons' were actually bodies, several of them in the shape of various rodents.

"What about them," I said, nodding to the man-sized cocoons.

"Sadly without the poison, they will die," he said morosely. "They cannot be saved, as by now their bodies are too dependent upon the venom to sustain them normally any longer. At this point, the best thing we can do is put them out of their misery quickly."

He stood up, and I watched as he plunged his sword into each cocoon, the loud 'squish' noise of the sword entering and exiting flesh echoing throughout the camber.

I checked my wounds, now healed due to the wonders of the elixir as I steadily got to my feet. My body was still feeling desire, but it was controllable, a low steady throb that felt more normal than not as I nodded to Ralof as we slowly moved deeper into the chamber.

"This way," he said, following another passage on the other side of the cavern.

As we moved through the cave passage we began to see light through holes in the ceiling, thankful to be closer to the surface than before.

Eventually we came to a stream running through the cave, uncertain if it was the same we had seen earlier or a different path of water. Still, the flow of water went in the direction we were headed, so we had hopes of finding an exit soon.



Suddenly Ralof put up his hand and crouched down as I followed suit. He turned back and whispered, "Hold up! There's a bear just ahead, see her? That means we're close to the exit." He pointed ahead and I saw a large furry shape outlined on one side of the cave.



"I'd rather not tangle with her right now. Let's try to sneak by," he said to me. "Just take it nice and slow, and watch where you step," he said. Then he grinned at me, "Or if you're feeling lucky you can take this bow, you might surprise her," he said as I glared at him. "Go ahead, I'll follow your lead and watch your back," he told me as I slowly made my way past him and as far from the bear as possible.

Luckily we passed the beast without stirring it, immediately seeing daylight ahead of us, our pace quickening as we exited the cave, the bright sunlight momentarily blinding us.



Abruptly the familiar roar of the dragon came from overhead as Ralof and I ducked down. "Wait," he whispered as we watched the outline of the beast fly away, holding our positions a few moments longer as the outline of the dragon faded into the distance.





"There he goes," he said standing up. "Looks like he's gone for good this time," he told as I remained crouched down.

"No way to know if anybody else made it out alive," he said looking over the landscape, "but this place will be swarming with Imperials soon enough. We'll need to clear out of here," he said. Looking back down at me crouched in front of him, he told me, "My sister, Gerdur, runs the mill in Riverwood. Just follow the road and I'm sure she'll help you out," he said.

Looking at me, Ralof got a big grin. "It's probably best if we split up, but first, there's the matter of compensation," he said looking down at me with a lecherous gaze.

I immediately felt my face blush as I looked up at him. I stared in amazement as he took off his cuirass, then his kirtle, my eyes immediately drawn to his pelvis. Like me, he was wearing no undergarments, which I assumed were removed when we had been taken captive.

"I was not going to impose upon you in the wagon when you were unconscious, but now..." he trailed off while looking at me with longing.

Some women would have been insulted, others at least protesting. I felt my body come alive, instinctively moving forward and kneeling down in front of me as I gazed upon his half-swollen member.



Ralof stroked my hair as I watched his cock slowly grow before my eyes. I could still feel the frostbite venom in me as my body thrummed with desire.

Tentatively I reached out, stroking his cock as he sighed.



His dick stirred like a hibernating snake suddenly woken, as it grew in my hand, becoming firmer and longer. I continued slowly stroking until he was rock hard, his cock well over 25 cm, as I felt the inside of my mouth water.

Without any direction from him I moved my head forward, my lips resting around the head as I slowly drew him into my mouth, his soft skin sliding across my lips. The valley echoed with both our moans as I sucked him in, my tongue stroking the underside of his shaft, feeling the thick vein prominent across my tongue.

I began moving my head back and forth, his cock sliding back and forth across my lips as I sucked.





Moving faster I grasped his hips to hold my balance while I sucked him vigorously. I could feel his cock hardening in my mouth as his hands grasped my head.

His hips slowly began thrusting in rhythm to my sucking while his cock hardened even further in my mouth knowing he was close.

Suddenly his hands clamped on my head, pulling me forward as his hips thrust forward, his cock plunging deep into my mouth, the tip slamming into the back of my throat. I immediately felt hot liquid shooting down my throat as I instinctively began swallowing.



I moaned in response to the taste of his cum, sweet and sour at the same time, sucking all the fluid from his shaft down my throat. As the liquid hit my stomach I began to feel once again rejuvenated, as if I had taken a potent health elixir.

My body felt alive, my senses sharper, as I began to make out the distinct differences of the bird and animal noises coming around us. Over all of it I heard Ralof's panting as I steadily milked his cock in my mouth.

After he deflated I slowly let his cock slide out of my mouth, my lips clamping on his head and giving him a soft kiss on the tip of his manhood before letting it completely leave as I looked up at him.

"Was that payment enough for protecting me?" I grinned as he smiled down at me.

"Definitely makes the whole endeavor worth it," he said.

Regaining his composure, he got dressed, telling me, "Again, it's best if we split up, but if you make it to Riverwood, look up Gerdur and we may meet again," he said, pulling his tunic back down and moving into the forest, his path parallel to the road.

"I wouldn't have made it without your help today," he called back as we parted ways. "You should make your way to Windhelm to join the Stormcloaks, now that you have seen the true face of the Empire. If anybody knows what the coming of the dragon means, it will be Ulfic, who hopefully is alive and making his way there now."

I watched him leave, again marveling at how alive my body felt after the brief oral sex, recalling how I felt the same invigoration as the men in the wagon used and came inside me.

My mind was still hazy over my past and identity, too many gaps in my memory causing me to almost become frightened as I instead thought of the things I knew.



My name is Cerise, and I am a follower of Dibella. Although having the features of a Breton, I was a native of Cyrodill. I was certain of that though I could not recall whether I had been born there or not, or even if I had been to the Temple of Dibella. I was now in Skyrim, the land of the Nords, several hundred leagues from my home with nothing to my name but a saddlebag of food, a few dozen gold coins, and a fairly revealing leather tunic and skirt, as well as a sword at my waist.



I was obviously here for a reason, so with nowhere else to go, I set off down the road heeding Ralof's suggestion. The town of Riverwood was as good as any to try and find out why I was here and what had become of my memories I concluded, as I headed down the poorly maintained road and the adventures beyond.





Skyrim and the Journey of Cerise Ch. 02



Chapter 02 - Riverwood

Author's note: Please see Chapter 01 for my complete "Author's note', credits, and whatnot, as well as the beginning of the story...

********************

The trip to Riverwood took most of the remaining day. While journeying, I found several plants that triggered a distance memory within my mind, knowing I would need them, so gathered them as I went down the road. As with the use of magic or even swordplay, the awareness of gathering the herbs and flowers was more instinctual than any remembered knowledge I had of my past.



The lack of memory prior to awaking in the wagon as my body was being sexually used by the other prisoners troubled me—not the sexual aspect, but the actual loss of memory. 

I briefly wondered at my lack of inhibitions, knowing most women would have been more upset at the flagrant use of their body, but as with the plants or fighting, it somehow felt right. It may have been some earlier training being a follower of Dibella. 

As I thought of the goddess an emotional wave of warmth went through me, so I knew it may have something to do with it, but again, memory of my past escaped me.

"Such things bother humans," I began to say out loud... just as quickly correcting my thoughts. What did that mean? I was human, so why was I thinking of being different? 

Such contemplations bothered me more than the use of my body. 

I tried to make do with the fact I was at least alive and continued on as best I could, hoping time more than anything would bring back my memory.

Something else surprising me was the renewed vigor within my body. I felt alive and energetic, as if I had rested for a long period of time. It was at odds with being captured, almost beheaded, and then running and facing near death from a dragon, then subsequent escape from Helgen and the battles with the Imperial soldiers. 

The energy had overwhelmed me when I had sucked Ralof off, as if the sexual act, or the seed I had swallowed, was what was sustaining me.

It was an odd thought which I quickly banished from my thoughts, instead focusing on the road to Riverwood.



At one point while traveling, I saw smoke from a small campfire a ways off the road, but did not investigate. For one thing this was not a peaceful area, so who knows what could have been around the camp site. If somebody was camping that far from the road, they had a desire to keep to themselves. In addition, I was still in stolen Imperial armor, and did not want to explain to either side why I was wearing it, or why it looked well-blooded. 

I needed to find a place to rest, clean up, and most importantly find some new equipment. Ralof's suggestion to go to the village of Riverwood was the best thing to do.



My thoughts kept me preoccupied such that during my herb gathering I strayed further from the road and the river than I should have, suddenly confronted by a pair of wolves. They came upon me silently; thankfully, the leather armor protected me from their initial onslaught as I instinctively burned one of the creatures to death with my inherent magic and killed the other by severing its jugular with a swipe of my sword. The fight lasted less than ten seconds, and I once again wondered how I was so proficient with fighting.

Once again the use of magic and swordplay came to my body like I had always used it. It was like swimming or getting dressed and lacing up my boots, it just came naturally. I had no explanations other than my memory loss was more on who I was than what I could do.



I did take the extra time to skin the wolves, as I felt the hides would be of some value—particularly if I wanted to replace my current armor. Although thankful for the protection of the Imperial armor, I knew I needed to replace it. With the unrest brewing between the Empire and Stormcloaks, it would be better to avoid conflict and dress as neutral as possible when traveling.

It was for this reason I was cautious entering the region surrounding the small village of Riverwood, as I knew not how a lone woman in Imperial armor would fare. My worries were ill-founded I discovered, as apparently Ralof had arrived a few hours earlier and word of my arrival had spread throughout the small village.



"Hail stranger!" a guard in the walkway above the main road called to me, "you must be the one Ralof told us to keep an eye out for," he hollered. 

As I moved closer he looked down at me, his eyes travelling across my body, deliberately focusing on my bare stomach, the tight armor exaggerating my curves, and every centimeter of exposed skin. I felt a sudden rush of yearning across my body, centering between my legs as I stared back at him.

"Yup, there can be no mistake, Ralof said to keep an eye out for the fairest warrior we had ever seen, dressed as if she was willing to take on every man's sword!" he laughed. Once again I felt my body flush at the double entendre as the guard waved me into the town.

The small settlement was peaceful. Unlike walled Helgen, the village was an open design with fortifications only on the front and back areas where the road entered and exited; however, it was not defenseless I noted. The north side of the town abutted against the river and the south nestled against the foot of the mountains, both providing impressive natural defenses. Any large force would have to enter from the road.

What struck me most was the how spring was flourishing within and around the town. Flowers were blooming and trees well leafed—in stark contrast to Helgen where snow and winter were still present. Riverwood was located in a valley between the mountains providing a refuge from the seasons, and the pocket of warm weather was noticeable. 

It had only taken half a day to get here, yet the climate change was palpable as I realized the underground paths we had followed beneath Helgen had taken us considerable distance down the foot of the mountains.



Entering the town beneath the overhanging guard walkway, I heard the sounds of hammering—a smithy off in the distance and to my left. I felt a pang of recollection hit me and just as quickly flirt away. I was getting used to these flights of memory coming and going. As they had not steered me wrong, I took them as signs of needing to visit the smithy, something I had already planned on doing to find new equipment.

One my way there an elderly woman accosted me from a balcony. "A dragon, I saw a dragon!" she cried out to me from above.

Looking around, my hand went to my sword in preparation of another attack until I realized she was speaking of something in the past.

I noticed a man walk up the lane from the other end of town to join me. Looking up at the woman he said, "What? What is it now mother?" he said loudly to the woman above us.

"A dragon, it was as big as the mountain and black as the night," she said to us both. "I saw it; it flew right over the barrow."

The young man looked me and smiled, as if this was a common occurrence and the woman needed to be humored. 

"Dragons now is it mother? If you keep on like this everybody in town will think you are crazy," he told the woman, once again looking at me and winking. "I have better things to do than listen to your fantasies," he said to her, turning away on some other business.

"You'll see," the woman shouted after him. "It was a dragon. It will kill us all and then you'll believe me," she cried.



Having first-hand experience with a dragon sighting and wanting to know more, particularly if her experience was recent, I hailed the old woman who introduced herself as Hilde. 

"By Sheor, what do you want?" she asked me.

Asking if I could join her, I climbed up the ramp to her balcony and joined her on a bench. 

The view was magnificent, the balcony overlooking the river and the mountains beyond. I saw the smithy below, as well as a lumber mill behind it as I greeted the woman. 



Immediately with the openness of the elderly she looked at me, "You look sick, I hope it's not contagious," she said.

I smiled. "I've had a rough day," I answered, continuing to smile at her. 

Or maybe it was more than a day, who knows how long we were in the keep or how long I was unconscious in the wagon. I started to ask her more about the dragon as she started interrupted me.

"Did you hear? The Riverwood Trader was robbed! Poor Lucan must be torn to pieces about it!" she said as I again asked her about the dragon.

"Nobody believes me," she replied, "but I tell you, I saw a dragon. Bad times are upon us."

I asked when she saw it; however, her stream of thoughts bounced around worse than a skipping stone across rough water as she looked at me, "It's my boy Sven you need to listen to. He sings at the Inn almost every night," she said. "Sven has the voice of a snow lark, the only good thing he got from his father," she told me as I realized she was rambling. 

I smiled at her, again inquiring about the dragon. 

"You know," she grinned, "my boy fancies that Camilla Velarius. She'll come around soon enough," she said, staring off into the distance. Then she looked at me, her eyes critiquing my body. "You should visit the Inn, maybe get a room with him; that will make him forget about that Camilla," she told me with a wink. "Camilla! I've seen her with that Faendal. Filthy elf needs to keep with his own kind," she lamented.

I smiled sadly, realizing senility had taken her long ago. Wishing her well, I went back down the main lane while she continued talking.

"What's happened to my Skyrim?" the woman cried out behind me. "Everywhere you look its cats, lizards, and elves! It's sickening," she said as I made my way back to the main road towards the smithy.



As I came down the stairs the man—Hilde's son Sven I now knew—greeted me.

"I hope my mother has not bothered you stranger," he said as I shook my head and told him I was just offering her pleasantries.

Sven was not particularly handsome, although some women would have disagreed, but he was comely enough as he smiled. He introduced himself, saying he was the village's bard. 

"A fair maiden such as yourself should enjoy the finer things," he told me. "Visit me at the Inn and I'll regale you with songs of battle, love, and..." he paused as he gave my body a long look, "of seduction," he finished smiling at me.

Once again the blatant attention of a man caused stirrings in my body, like a shutter moving back and forth to reveal or block out the daylight as I smiled back at him, my cheeks reddening. 

He assumed I was blushing from embarrassment, but I knew it was more from passion as he continued, "I look forward to seeing more of you," he smiled, his eyes once again travelling over my body before making a large bow and heading back down the center lane of the village.

The leather cuirass scraped across my nipples and I shuddered, thoughts of naked, entwined bodies filling my mind.

Taking a moment to compose myself, I headed towards what I rightly assumed was the town smithy.

As I climbed up the stairs to the smithy the sounds of hammering and grinding became more prominent. The area was an opened porch providing ventilation from both the heat and fumes of metal crafting. To the left was a large forge and anvil; while across from it to my right was a workbench where a young girl was hamming some plating onto a leather cuirass. Further into the smithy were another workbench, a tanning table, as well as a grinding stone. 

It was the grindstone the smith was at, sharpening a large, well-crafted two-handed sword.

He nodded to me in greeting as I waited for him to finish, innately aware one should never interrupt a craftsman in the middle of his work. One misplaced hammer, or lack of sharpening could mean a life, particularly in his business.

The girl on the other hand looked up from her work at the bench and immediately walked towards me. "Hello," she said, "welcome to the Riverwood Smithy," she said smiling. Her demeanor was all business as I smiled back down at her. She must have barely been in her teens, but tried to be all seriousness, acting as an adult as only the young can do.



"Are you in charge here?" I asked solemnly as I greeted her, "I have some work I may need done." I said. 

She looked back at the smith who smiled, continuing his grinding while I talked with the girl, his daughter and apprentice I assumed based upon the expression of love on his face. 

Apparently getting permission to proceed, she said once more with all seriousness, "My father Alvor is the blacksmith, I'm his assistant—I mean, his apprentice," she told me proudly, confirming my suspicions. "You know, papa says I'm too friendly with strangers, but you seem alright," she said looking back at her father who simply nodded his head.

While I waited for the smith to finish, I made small talk with the girl, who told me her name was Dorthe—pronouncing it as 'Dorthee.' Asking what she was working on as she began to explain all the inner workings of sewing plate onto leather, how they needed to overlap and not show any gaps for protection, but far enough apart so the metal was not wasted, then instructing me how to hammer it out to fit perfectly. 

Some of her words reminded me of my own training—again the thought of my past quickly escaping me—as I simply nodded to her as she lectured me on the proper ways to polish plate depending on the type of metal. For some strange reason, all she explained I instinctively knew, wondering if I had trained at a blacksmith previously in my life, yet another thing hidden within my forgotten memories.

Eventually the smith finished with his sharpening and stood up to greet me. "Ain't every day we get visitors in Riverwood," he told me, "You must be the stranger Ralof said to expect."

"It seems everybody knows of my arrival," I told him pleasantly.

The smith smiled back. "It's a small town; gossip is the bane of all small towns. And when Ralof came running into town looking like he had taken on the entire Imperial army single-handedly," he paused and smiled, "Well, news is news," he said.

I saw his eyes appraising me. Although there was a slight hint of lust in his eyes, he mainly looked at the armor I was wearing, his assessment being that of somebody who had worked with it all his life. 

"Usually Ralof is full of stories, so when he started talking about dragons and fair maidens who could wield a sword better then he...well, let's just say I've known him since a small boy and his tales become more fanciful each time I hear one," he smiled. "I must say his description of you was no understatement," he smiled as I blushed. "So what can this poor smith do for you?" he asked.

I expressed my concern for travelling in an Imperial outfit, asking if he had any armor or weapons available I could barter for, as I confessed to having little money. I also showed him the wolf hides I had gotten on my way here, hoping to sell them as well.

"I'm sure we can find something to negotiate with," he told me smiling. 

For a brief moment I wondered if his 'payment' would be similar to Ralof's. I was not upset as I knew other women would be, instead feeling again a brief twinge of excitement. I pictured him towering over me, my body offered to him.

"Whatever you need," he told me, "by Ysmir, if it is simple and strong, I can forge it," he smiled. 

I again felt my body flush, my last exchange for skills causing me to smile as the smith shook his head, guessing my train of thought. "I'm tempted lass, but I'm a married man," he chuckled. 

I turned and looked at his workshop and he, noticing me looking at his tools with appraisal, asked, "Have you ever worked at a smithy before?"

I told him of my recent memory loss, but admitted I felt some twinge of recognition as I came to the forge. 

"I'll tell you what; on the workbench is everything you need to make me an Iron Dagger. I was going to have my daughter make it to test her on her apprenticeship, but let's see what you can do with it," he told me.



Handing me a thick pair of gloves and a leather apron to protect my midriff and skin from any harm, I turned to the table. I realized his request was no small deed, as the table held only the hide of a deer, some wooden blocks, and several pieces of stone, thin veins of iron ore running through them.

Comprehending this was going to take more than a few hours, I set aside my gear and set to work, not only to prove to myself I had the talent, but also the smith. With just raw materials, I was being tested not only for my knowledge in blacksmithing, but also leatherworking and smelting techniques. 

In the back of my mind came the brief thought that with the proper tools, I would be able to create an unbreakable dagger within an hour; however, as with all other games my mind was playing, it was a brief glimpse into my psyche, which I was trying to ignore. Such thoughts were fanciful, as I knew of no mortal who could fashion a weapon in such a time.

I was thankful the hide was already cured and tanned, needing only to be stripped down and conditioned for the handle of the blade—the reason for the blocks of wood—as it would save time processing. The first of my tasks was to smelt the ore, as it would take a while for the metal to melt.

Stoking the bellows I added more coal and let the fire simmer, while I took a hammer and broke up the stone into smaller pieces, adding them to a large clay smelting pot I positioned over the fire. The goal was to heat up the pieces—the smaller the better—to melt out the ore and then combine it with crushed charcoal for strength before forming it into workable pieces.



Beneath the clay pot was a small opening which would allow the melted iron to drip out into another clay mold beneath, where I could then mix in charcoal before casting out the shape of the blade to be tempered.

As the rocks heated, I stripped down the hide, occasionally working the bellows as the coals progressively became white hot. 

Eventually the white-hot liquid metal started dripping out of the pot into the mold, so I set down the wooden blocks I was carving for the hilt and started paying more attention to the smelting. Once I knew I had enough liquid metal, I mixed in the charcoal, pouring the mixture into a dagger mold the smith had available.




Skyrim and the Journey of Cerise Ch. 02





The whole process took a few hours as the smith watched me with a practiced eye. Once the blade was set in the mold he looked at me and nodded. "You can pick up tomorrow, I am usually out here by 8 am, but feel free to come earlier if you desire," he told me. "I'm sure Gerdur and Ralof will want to talk with you," he said as I thanked him before leaving.

I suddenly noticed it was dusk, the time having passed by without my knowledge as I had been so absorbed in the task the smith had given me. I also noticed I was sweaty and covered in soot.

The smith pointed to a bucket and told me I could use it to wash up, so I grabbed it and headed to the river to clean. I came to the realization although I had fought and run all day, and then worked a smithy for several hours, I was not fatigued. In fact, I felt ready to continue working on the dagger, but knew the smith was right, I probably needed rest. I must be so fatigued my body was ignoring it.

Dorthe kept me company as I washed by the river, talking about the town, her friends, their dog, as well as what she had learned from her father that day. 

The area was secluded from the other buildings, so I took off my leather cuirass to wash my upper body, the cool air welcomed on my sweating breasts. Seeing me partially disrobed, Dorthe told me I was beautiful and I blushed—this time truly from embarrassment as she told me I was the prettiest woman in Riverwood. 

I thanked her, telling her she would always be the prettiest one in Riverwood as she smiled back. Yet as I said the words, something deep within me knew the words to be a true prophesy, the thought drifting away as quickly as it came.

After cleaning up and redressing, we returned to the smithy. I asked Alvor where I could find Gerdur and he pointed to a small jetty by the lumber mill where I saw a couple people gathered, so headed in that direction.

Coming around the mill I recognized Ralof sitting on a log talking to a woman I presumed was his sister. She was a tall blonde, the resemblance between her and Ralof leaving no doubt as to them being siblings as I drew closer. Where Ralof was broad-shouldered, his sister was thinner, her breasts smaller than mine but perfect for her frame, which was quite noticeable by her outfit.

She was wearing a dark green dress tied tightly at the bodice, pushing her breasts up to show considerable cleavage. The dress extended down to her knees, but was opened in the front in an inverted "V" down to the sides of her hips, parted like an opened robe. Beneath the opened dress she wore a small pair of cloth shorts providing some decency as I admired her bared muscular legs and trimmed figure.



As I walked closer to the two of them another man wearing a cotton jerkin and leather breeches join us from the mill. He apparently had been waiting for my arrival, immediately asking, "Now Ralof, you two look done in, what's going on? You said you would tell us when your friend arrived, so let's have it," he said.



Ralof sighed, "I can't remember when I last slept," he told the man slowly, obviously knowing him. "Where to start?" he said gathering his thoughts. "Well, the news you heard about Ulfric was true, the Imperials ambushed us near Darkwater Crossing—like they knew exactly where we were going to be," he told the man. "That was," he paused thinking of the time, "two days ago," he finally said.

His recount gave me some idea on how long I may have been captive. Based on earlier conversations I knew I had not been with the Stormcloak troops when they had been captured; however, I could not remember anything beyond the wagon ride, let alone my internment as he continued.



"We stopped in Helgen this morning," he said sighing, "and I thought it was all over." 

He again paused. I could relate to him taking time to gather his thoughts, as the happenings of the day were still too fresh in my mind, the close call with the headsman block and the dragon attack returning to my memory as he finally continued. 

"They had us lined up at the headsman's block and were ready to start chopping..." he began.

"The cowards!" the woman Gerdur commented.

Ralof shrugged. "They wouldn't dare give Ulfric a fair trial. Treason! For fighting for your own people," he said. "All of Skyrim would have seen the truth then," he claimed. "But then, out of nowhere, a dragon attacked..." 

"You don't mean a real, live..." his sister started as Ralof kept talking.

"I can barely believe it myself," he said, "and I was there." He shook his head, "As strange as it sounds, we'd be dead if it were not for that dragon," he told them. "In all the confusion we managed to slip away." He put his head into his hands, reliving the morning as he finally asked, "Are we really the first to make it to Riverwood? "

"Nobody else has come up the south road today as far as I know," Gerdur said with sadness.

"Good, maybe we can lay up for a while," Ralof declared. "I hate to put your family in danger Gerdur," he told her.

"Don't talk nonsense," she admonished him. "You and your friend are welcomed to stay as long as you need to," she said. "Let me worry about the Imperials, you need to rest," she told him, and then turned to look at me.



"Welcome, any friend of Ralof's is a friend of mine," she told me as we introduced ourselves. She handed me an iron key, "Here, this is to our home, anything of ours is yours," she told me. "Stay as long as you like. If there is anything you need, just ask."

I thanked her, as did Ralof. Taking the key, I inquired if there was anything I could offer in payment as she smiled.

"Ralof did not lie about your beauty," she said, her eyes moving across my body. I felt my pulse quicken at the inspection, her eyes lingering on my cleavage exposed by the Imperial leather top as she smiled. 

"There is something you can do for me," she finally said, "for everybody here. The Jarl needs to know there is a dragon on the loose. Riverwood is defenseless!" she said. "We need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun to send whatever troops he can. If you'll do that, it will be us who will be in your debt," she told me.

I told her I would do everything in my power to help as Ralof interrupted us, "First we both need rest, then we can talk about planning," he said as his sister agreed.

"I need to get back to work anyways before I'm missed," Gerdur said. "Did anybody else escape? Did Ulfric..." she asked her brother.

"Don't worry. I'm sure he made it out," her brother reassured her. "It'll take more than a dragon to stop Ulfric Stormcloak," he said grinning.

"Forgive my manners," the man next to me said, introducing himself, "I am Hod, Gerdur's husband." Looking at his wife, he told her, "I'll let them into the house and, you know, show them around," he told her. There was an odd tone in his voice and I turned towards him, seeing him staring openly at me.

"Humph, help them drink up our mead, you mean," she said, then seeing where his attention was focused, "or maybe get a cheap thrill," she added as she grinned at me. "Ralof's been here a thousand times. Having a beautiful woman in his company wouldn't be the cause of improvement of your manners, would it?" she smirked at her husband.



I turned to see Hod again blatantly staring at me, or my body I should say, as his lecherous gaze appraised me more like a commodity than a person. 

As he continued his lewd stare, I felt my skin heat in response. The effect I was feeling from everybody looking at me seemed unusual. I presumed my system was still feeling the effects of the Frostbite venom, wondering how long it would be until it was completely flushed out of my system.

We made our way to Gerdur and Hod's house, Ralof leading the way. I thought it odd for Hod to be walking behind me, as we were going to his own house and thought he would have led the way. Looking over my shoulder I saw his gaze focused on my ass and legs, again feeling a flush through my system knowing he had purposely stayed behind me for the view. Almost unconsciously I began to sway my hips more exaggeratedly as I walked.



A few minutes later we came to a small stone house covered by a thatched roof. Hod unlocked the door, inviting us to come in. As I walked past him Hod's arm wrapped around me, his hand softly caressing my bare midriff, in the pretense of guiding me through the door. The sensation sent thrills through me and I looked at him and smiled while he guided me into the house, the warmth of his hand against my skin continuing to create goose-bumps over my body as we entered.

The house was a small L-shaped structure divided into four living areas: a small dining and kitchen area to the left as you entered with a large cooking fireplace in the middle; a small bedroom area at the junction of the "L" of the house; and a small bar area between that sleeping area and a larger bedroom with a king-sized bed.

Hod explained before the inn had been built the building had been their home as well as the village's tavern.

We sat down on the benches at the dining table, Ralof across from me as he said, "I told you my sister would help us out."

"Both of you make yourselves at home," Hod told us as he went around the corner, returning a moment later with three foaming tankards of mead.

Handing me a tankard while Ralof grabbed another, Hod sat down next to me, taking a long draught as I followed suit.

The alcohol warmed my stomach, the heat spreading out to suffuse my whole body as I complimented Hod on the drink, the flavor not too sweet or bitter. Taking a long pull of his own tankard he stated it was Honeybrew's stock from last year. 

"Not as good as Black-Briar, but still a good substitute," he said, taking another long drink.

We talked for some time. Hod explained Gerdur helped out at the Inn on some evenings, tonight being one of them as he told us she would not be home until late. As he talked, I noticed he was now sitting closer to me, having nonchalantly moved closer while talking, his hip now against mine. The male closeness caused me to flush more than usual, my whole body feeling the effects of the alcohol. As we talked, his body against mine was an ever-present warmth within my body.

Eventually Ralof brought up the subject of the Stormcloaks. 

"You should come to Windhelm with me and join the fight for Skyrim. You've seen the true face of the Empire today," he said to me. 

I asked him if that was a good idea, not being a Nord as he answered, "You don't have to be a Nord to fight for Skyrim's freedom. After what you saw today, I'm sure you agree that Skyrim needs to be free!" he stated.

I told him I would have to think about it as he told me there was no rush. 

"You have your own score to settle with the Empire," he finally said. "And with that dragon!" he announced.

"I can't believe you two saw a dragon," Hod muttered as he came back with our fifth—or was it the sixth, I wondered—refill of the sweet alcoholic beverage. He once again sat much closer to me, his body now against mine as he asked, "So what was it like? Was it as big as a house?"

"Much bigger than that," I answered, "as big as the inn," I told him to his amazement.

I felt his leg press against mine, as he started to move slowly up and down against my bare leg. The movements were too obvious to be coincidental and I looked at him as he smiled at me. 

"Now that would be a sight to see," he said as I wondered if he were talking about me or the dragon. "Not that I would want it to come here!" he protested, as he thought out his statement. "I hope that dragon stays far away from here," he finished, taking a long pull from his tankard.

As he finished speaking he lowered his hand, resting it against my bare thigh. The heat of his palm caused my arousal to spike once again, as if his warmth were suffusing my body. As I did not move or chastise him, his hand began making small strokes on my thigh, the warmth of arousal focused directly between my legs.

"If anybody knows what the coming of the dragon means, it's Ulfric," Ralof stated taking a long quaff of the refilled tankard, oblivious to Hod's attentions upon my body.

I tried to focus upon the conversation and not the hand on my bare skin as I asked, "You really think Ulfric knows where that dragon came from?"

"Well, maybe not," Ralof admitted. "Dragons have not been seen in Skyrim for an age or more," he said reluctantly. "But wherever that dragon came from or whatever it wants, Ulfric will get to the bottom of it, you can count on that!" he declared, slamming down his tankard and splashing mead all over.

A large splash hit me square on the chest between the laced leather, the cool liquid feeling good against my warmed flesh as Hod immediately announced, "Ralof, you fool! Here, let me help," he said.

Before I could say anything he grabbed a rag, his hand going to my chest and rubbing slowly to 'wipe up' the splashed mead. I looked at him as he unashamedly inspected my chest being manipulated by his slow moving hand. Glancing up I saw Ralof also enjoying the show.

I became aware of the fact both men were more drunk than I. Sure my body had a warm flush to it, but my speech was not slurred nor were my movements and responses diminished in any way, unlike the men who were obviously feeling the effects of the strong drink. Ralof had a stupid 'shit-eaten' grin on his face as he almost stared into the void, while Hod's exaggerated attention to my chest was less from lust than the intense concentration of a man who had dipped too much into a keg.

We sat there like that for a few seconds, Ralof staring into space while Hod massaged my chest to 'clean up the spilt mead' when the door opened and Gerdur stepped in. Taking one look at us she glared at her husband asking, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Shpilt some mead," Hod answered, looking up at his wife while his hand continued to massage my chest. "Jusht wiping it up!" he said happily as if he had accomplished one of the most difficult tasks of his lifetime.

Instead of being mad, Gerdur just shook her head, apologizing for her husband as he finally moved away, satisfied he had gotten enough mead off my chest to return back to his tankard.

The sound of another tankard falling to the floor caught our attention as we saw Ralof slump forward, fast asleep.

"Poor man," his sister said looking at her brother with love. "He's been up for days, it's about time he got some sleep, although he will have to stay there, he's too heavy for either of us to move," she laughed.

Nudging her husband who had also started to doze off, she yelled at him to go to bed. Surprisingly the man got up and staggered around the corner. A few minutes later soft snores could be heard as Gerdur laughed. "Men, they're all the same. I'm surprised you are still awake, did you convince them you could not drink as much?" she asked.

I told her I did not seem to be as affected by the alcohol as the men and she just shrugged, sitting across from me as we talked. 



I asked about Riverwood and she proudly stated, "It's my mill. Some people think it's my town too, but it ain't. The Jarl in Whiterun owns the land and the town, I just pay the taxes," she explained. 

She told how she and Hod had moved to the area when they had married, only the Trader store there at the time. 

"In only ten years the mill was completed and Alvor and his wife moved here and put up the smithy, followed by the Inn. Since then, Riverwood has become a normal stop between Whiterun and the roads to the south. We do well here, but we have no standing militia, that is why we need somebody to head to Whiterun to talk to the Jarl about sending more men," she told me.

I asked about getting to Whiterun as she gave me directions, asking when I would be able to leave.

"I know it's important, but if it is over a day's travel I would like to rest and stock up on gear. I am trying to work with the blacksmith for some better armor," I told her. Looking down at what I was wearing I explained, "I don't think running around the countryside in Imperial leathers is conducive to my well-being," I grinned.

"Alvor's a good man," Gerdur said. "He's devoted to Sigrid his wife and that little daughter of his, Dorthe. If he is letting you use his forge, then he must have seen something in you, as he does not let just anybody touch his equipment," she smiled.

I asked about the Jarl and she was quiet for a few moments. "Jarl Balgruuf? I don't mean to be disrespectful, as he's ruled Whiterun Hold well for years, but he may be over his head this time."

I asked her to explain as she continued, "He's been trying to stay out of the war, but it can't last. He's going to have to pick a side. I'm afraid he's going to make the wrong choice," she shook her head solemnly.

"Is he loyal to the Empire?" I asked, knowing where her loyalties lay, as those of her brother.

"I wouldn't say that," she said. "But he and Ulfric have been at odds for years, and I'm afraid Balgruuf will end up siding with the Empire because of it," she said. "But it's hard to believe that even Balgruuf would choose Elisif over Ulfric," she concluded with a sigh.

I asked who Elisif was as she explained.

"I suppose she's Jarl Elisif now. She married High King Torygg just before Ulfric killed him. The Empire supports her claim to be High Queen," she stated. "I don't really have anything against her," she said matter-of-factly, "it's not her fault her husband Torygg was bought and paid for by the Empire. But she's nothing but a puppet for the Empire now, with her husband dead. Ulfric will make sure she never takes the throne as High Queen."

"How did Ulfric kill him, the High King?" I asked curiously, knowing it to be a touchy subject.

"Some say it was murder, but it was a rightful challenge in the old way," she told me. "Ulfric called him out as a traitor to Skyrim, and killed him in single combat. If Torygg couldn't defend his crown, he had no business being High King," she stated with conviction.

"So there is no High King right now?" I asked, recalling she had called Elisif Jarl and not Queen.



"No, not until the Moot meets to choose another, and it won't meet until one side or the other wins the war," she told me. "None of the Jarls will leave their holds unless sure all threats of war are ended. But Ulfric is our rightful High King. He'll drive out the Empire and Skyrim will have peace at last," she stated with the faith of a convert.

As I finished my tankard we decided by unspoken agreement it was time for bed. "I would offer a shift for you to sleep in," she apologized, "but I don't think it will be too comfortable." She looked at my chest. "You are more endowed than I," she clarified as she smiled, her comment stirring something deep within me.




Skyrim and the Journey of Cerise Ch. 02



I told her I did not mind sleeping naked, simply glad to get the armor off as she gave me a knitted quilt to sleep with.

Gerdur banked the fire and then blew out the candles, putting the house into darkness with only the soft glow of embers casting dark shadows in the dining area before going to her bed. 

I unlaced the leather top and took it off, my breasts welcoming the freedom as I gently massaged them to get some feeling back after being tied up by the armor for so long. As I unlaced my boots and took them off I saw the shadowed form of Gerdur undressing as well, putting on a nightshift as she crawled in bed next to the gently snoring Hod.



Finally taking off the leather skirt, I laid down naked on the soft deer hide of the mattress, pulling the quilt over me as I closed my eyes.





********************

I awoke to the bed creaking as somebody sat down on the edge behind me. After a few moments I felt the quilt move aside as a warm male body spooned against me, smiling as Ralof's hand slide down my hip.

"It's about time you woke up," I told him, not minding his invasion as I felt my skin warm to his touch.

His hand slid up my hip, then moved up my stomach before cupping my right breast, his callused hand massaging the yielding flesh. 

I gave a quiet gasp as I pivoted towards him to give more access as his hand slid to my other breast, kneading it like the first. I could smell the mead still on his breath as I pressed my ass into his pelvis. At the pressure he immediately shoved forward in response, his slowly inflating member nestling between my ass cheeks.

I moaned at the intense feeling, whispering, "We have to be quiet or we'll wake the others." 

Without saying any acknowledgement his hand once again slid down my stomach. This time it continued down to squeeze my ass, slowly moving further between my legs. I moved my top right leg forward to give him better access as his fingers immediately slid across my wetted slit. 

I bit my tongue to hold back the groan of pleasure as he slowly inserted his finger into me, moving it in and out as my hips began to rock back and forth in response. I could feel the muscles of my canal clenching down on his digit each time he pulled back, as if reluctant for his manipulations to leave as I panted in desire.

He kissed me on my neck, the hair of his mustache tickling my skin as his tongue moved across my shoulder and I sighed, the feeling of a man desiring me more invigorating than any sleep could have provided.

"I need you inside me," I whispered, being careful not to wake the others as I felt him shift, pulling the quilt completely off us. 

His hand pressed on my thigh as he held my top leg forward, the position spreading my ass as he straddled my lower leg. The bed rocked slightly as he scooted closer to me until I finally felt the head of his cock pressing against my slit. Without any preamble Ralof slammed his hips forward, his cock sinking into my pussy, impaling me and spreading me wide.

"Unmkh," I moaned into the pillow as he began moving briskly back and forth, the bed creaking rhythmically to his motions as his cock slipped in and out of me, intense pleasure flooding my body. His hand grasped my breast roughly for support, kneading it while his hips pounded into my ass and thigh, his cock filling me to exquisite proportions as my body eagerly accepted his ravishment.

He began to move faster, the steady 'slap, slap, slap' of skin against skin in synch with the creaking of the bed as he fucked me. I was on fire, and I whimpered uncontrollably into the pillow. I thought I was going to come several times, the peak of my pleasure overwhelming me when suddenly it would begin anew. By the fifth time I skirted the cresting wave of pleasure only to be denied, I almost screamed into the pillow in frustration.

Ralof was slamming into me wildly now, his hands braced on each side of me as his hips worked faster than I thought possible, his cock plunging in and out of me repeatedly.

Then he grunted, slamming into me one more time as I felt deep inside me the spreading heat of his seed filling me, his pulsating cock jerking inside my canal.

Eventually he slid out. I was frustrated at not cumming; however, I immediately began to feel invigorated, somehow knowing my body was welcoming the fertile fluid within me, more vitalizing than a powerful health potion or a week's worth of sleep.

Ralof slowly got to his feet, pulling the quilt back over me as he shuffled away. I appreciated him not wanting his sister or brother to wake up and find us in bed together, as a warm contentment filled me, falling asleep.

********************

The soft clatter of pots and pans awoke me. I peeked over the quilt to observe Gerdur preparing breakfast. 



Seeing me awake, she apologized, though I told her it was no problem. 

"No," she said, "you need your rest. And after drinking so much, you're probably hung over," she said.

Surprisingly I felt great, with no signs of a hangover. In fact, I felt renewed energy remembering Ralof cumming inside me, somehow knowing that had given me more energy than the night's sleep.

I told her I was fine as I got up, wrapping the quilt around me. Gerdur looked at me bundled up in the blanket and went to a dresser, pulling out two long pieces of linen. 

"I thought of this material this morning," she explained. "You can wrap it around you as a makeshift top and skirt instead of putting on that bulky armor again," she told me.

I thanked her and with her assistance, created a makeshift bandeau top and sarong. "I was going to use this material for drapes," she laughed, "but it's a good thing I'm lazy," she told me, admiring our handiwork as I spun around.

The material wrapped tightly around my chest, not nearly wide enough to totally cover my breasts. The yielding flesh was exposed above and beneath the strip of cloth, but it was better than having to wrap myself up in the leather tunic again. The bottom was loosely wrapped around my hips extending diagonally to one knee, providing freedom of movement. 

Happy with the improvised outcome, I excused myself to use the outhouse to relieve myself.

Coming back into the house, I saw Ralof slumped at the table in exactly the same position when he had passed out, fully clothed in his armor. 

"Has he been there all night?" I asked curiously, wondering why he had put his armor back on after his use of me, a gnawing suspicion beginning to form in my mind.

Gerdur laughed, "Oh yes, once Ralof gets a couple tankards in him he will not budge the rest of the night until hours after dawn—he's been that way for years," she told me.

I had an outlandish thought enter me as I asked cautiously, "How is Hod this morning?" 

I looked over to the large double bed seeing Gerdur's husband sleeping. His blanket had moved in his sleep revealing his bare chest and legs, draped only over his hips as he slept. Seeing his nude body, I recalled he had passed out fully clothed the night before.

"Oh, he got up last night sometime, probably to get sick," Gerdur said somewhat amused. "But by the time he came back to bed he must have had enough thought to take off his clothes," she told me.

I suddenly recalled the sensation of being kissed on the shoulder, the soft hair of a mustache stroking my skin as I realized Ralof did not have any facial hair. I quickly looked to the sleeping Hod and his large blonde mustache, realizing who had actually fucked me last night!

Trying to maintain my composure and not insult Gerdur, I helped her with breakfast. "I'm sure neither of them will eat much until later," she said, "but at least we can say we did our womanly duties for them," she said, my thoughts returning to the night's activities and the other 'womanly duties' I had performed.

I tried to help clean up after breaking our fast, but Gerdur refused, telling me I was a guest and to rest. I sat on the bed and again looked over to the sleeping form of Hod, recalling how he had fucked me relentlessly, my loins stirring in response. 

Surprisingly I did not feel guilt, although I knew most women would be ashamed. He had come to me, not I to him, so the blame was all his. I was actually pleased a man would go to so much trouble to fuck me in the same room as his wife. 

Deep inside me I accepted I had done that which a woman could do, providing a man pleasure and the use of her body, aware the thought was not normal to today's standards, but feeling it to be true nonetheless. It was an odd thought and one definitely not Breton, Imperial, or Nord, as I wondered where the belief came from. Could it have been further teachings as a priestess of Dibella I wondered? Or was there more to it? 

Finally I told Gerdur I needed to head to the smithy to finish my project as she handed me a small purse of coins. Looking at her questioningly she smiled, "Get yourself something to wear besides curtains at the Trader before you head to the smithy," she said.

I tried to refuse and give her back the gold, but she insisted, saying to get some work clothes so her drapes were not ruined at the blacksmith's. Just in case they didn't have anything, I reluctantly put on the armor once again, trying to give back the money telling her the armor would suit me. Again Gerdur insisted, so I finally relented, putting the leather boots back on and leaving the house.

My thoughts in disorder, I finally reached the Riverwood Trader and entered, the room well-lit as I saw a man and woman arguing.



"Well one of us has to do something!" the woman was telling the man behind the counter.

"I said no!" the man exclaimed. "No adventures, no theatrics, no thief-chasing," he yelled back at her.

"Well what are you going to do about it then, huh?" the woman asked with exasperation. "Let's hear it!"

The man raised his hands and turned around, "We are done talking about this!" he announced. 

Suddenly seeing me, he regained his composure, "Oh, a customer. Sorry you had to hear that," he apologized.

The man introduced himself as Lucan Valerius, as well as the woman, Camilla his sister. 

"I don't know what you heard, but the Riverwood Trader is still open, feel free to shop," he told me.

Remembering the old lady's comment about the Trader being robbed, I asked him about it.

"Yes, uh, yes," he said with embarrassment, "we did have a bit of a, uh, break-in," he finally admitted. "But we still have plenty to sell! The robbers were only after one thing," he told me. Seeing my inquiring expression he continued, "An ornament, solid gold," he said. "In the shape of a dragon's claw," he told me. 

Something registered deep in my mind recalling...something. It was a feeling similar to nearing the smithy, knowing I needed to do something. Without hesitation I told him, "I could help you get the claw back."

He looked at me in surprise. "You're that friend of Ralof's who helped him escape the Imperials," he said recognizing me. "Well, Ralof speaks highly of you. I have some coin coming in from my last shipment. It's yours if you bring my claw back," he announced as I nodded. "Well, if you are going to get those thieves, you need to head to Bleak Falls Barrow where they are said to hang out..." he started to tell me.

"So THIS is your plan, Lucan?" his sister asked with contempt.

"Yes, so now you don't have to go," he said proudly, "do you?"

"Oh really?" she said with spite. "Well I think your new helper here needs a guide," she told him.

I realized I was being caught in a sibling squabble probably going on for many years.

"Wh—no...I..." he stammered. "Oh, by the Eight, fine. But only to the edge of town," he told her.

"Come along then," the woman said, walking out of the store.

Flustered I followed her, telling her I needed to purchase some things as she continued walking.

"We have to go through town and across the bridge so I can show you the path to Bleak Falls Barrow," she told me. "You can come back and shop after I show you, but I had to get away from my brother," she explained. "Ever since our parents died traveling the roads he refuses to even let me out of his sight!"

We continued walking as she paused. "You can see the barrows from here," she told me pointing to the northwest. "It's in the mountains just across the river."



I followed her reluctantly as she continued talking.

"Those thieves must be mad, hiding out there. Those old crypts are filled with nothing but traps, trolls, and who knows what else!" she said walking down the main lane of the village. She pointed out the inn as we continued through the village, continuing to talk. 

"I wonder why they stole Lucas' old golden claw," she contemplated. "I mean we have plenty of things in the shop that are worth just as much coin. Lucan found the claw about a year after he opened the store. He never quite explained where he got it. He's a tricky one," she said as we walked, finally reaching the other end of the town, an old stone bridge crossing the river.

At the mention of the item I once again felt a stirring deep within me, knowing I had to...do what, I wondered? I felt an urgent need and wondered at my offer to help them as Camilla's voice broke through my reverie.

"This is the bridge out of town," she told me. "The path up the mountain to the northwest leads to Bleak Falls Barrow," she said pointing up towards the mountains as I thanked her. She loitered around for a few moments before finally saying, "I guess I should get back to my brother. He'll throw a fit if I take too long. Such a child," she said.



I thought the same of her as she waited around a few more minutes. I began to understand she was purposely taking her time to aggravate her brother further as I again thanked her, explaining I needed to go back to the store for some items as I followed her back.

Entering the store again with Camilla, Lucas said "The sooner you can get the claw, the quicker we can get back to normal."

In inquired as to some clothing and he pulled out his collection for me to look through. Unfortunately, most of the clothes cost more than I had—the few coins in my possession taken off the bodies of the Imperial soldiers while escaping Helgen and the small purse Gerdur had given me. In addition, the clothes were all too extravagant. I needed something to wear around town or at the smithy and get dirty, not wanting to ruin anything nice. 

I explained my concerns to Lucas. Hearing I had little to no money, he immediately started putting the clothes away.

I asked him if there was anything I could do to help him out and he thought for a moment before replying, "I could buy your old armor," he told me. "That should get you enough to afford some clothes."

I explained my old armor was part of the payment to Alvor, as well as working at the smithy, so it was already spoken for, so Lucas resumed putting the rest of the clothing away. 

I again implored him for anything, as I had nothing but the stolen Imperial armor, but he refused to cooperate.

"Lucas, surely we have something," Camilla told him, taking pity upon me. 



At her continued insistence, he told Camilla we could look through the discard bin. Seeing my questioning look, she told me they had a chest where they put old clothes customers sometimes left due to being too damaged. 

"We cut material from them to patch other clothes," she said, "but I'm sure we can find something for you!" she said happily.



Although I felt she was helping me more to spite her brother than out of goodwill, I graciously accepted, following her upstairs to their living quarters. Opening a large chest, she started pulling out all sorts of scraps of clothing.

As we went through the shredded clothes I became more despondent, as there were no functional pieces of clothing, everything already cut into various size swatches to be used later.

Finally, almost to the bottom of the chest, Camilla cried out, "What have we here?"" she said, pulling out what looked to be an old robe and breeches.

As she laid the clothes out on the bed, I saw a long burlap tunic and cotton breeches. The tunic may have once been white, but was now greyed with age, while the leggings were a dull brown, which probably was not their original color, that having bled out ages ago.

"Don't worry," Camilla told me, seeing my nose wrinkle at the clothing, "we wash and boil everything before bringing it here, so while it may look bad, it is clean," she explained.

Realizing beggars could not be choosers, I thanked her. I HAD said I wanted something I could get dirty in, so this actually was perfect, all vanity aside.

Taking the breeches and putting them on, I was thankful they easily hugged my hips, being almost the perfect size. There was a drawstring in the waistband, so once I tightened it to a comfortable fit, I reached for the tunic.

Whereas the pants may have passed as second-hand clothing, the tunic was in poor condition. Although having no major holes or tears and being in one piece, the bottom hem was shredded from wear and tear, as well as what appeared to be previous assaults for cloth scraps.

Camilla helped me remove the rest of my armor, commenting how she understood why I was the talk of the men in town as I felt my breasts tighten at her scrutiny. Asking her what she meant, she told me all the men at the inn had been commenting on my figure the whole night. 

I felt my face flush in arousal as Camilla laughed, saying it was all in harmless fun, realizing she mistook my blush for embarrassment as I let the matter drop. The thought of so many men talking about me in such a way thrilled me, making a mental note to visit the inn before I left town.

Pulling the tunic over my head I realized it was too small, unable to get my arms through the short-sleeves. The neckline had a deep plunge, so my head could at least get through, but my arms and shoulders were obviously too thick for the sleeves.

Inspecting the tunic while my arms were encased by the cloth, Camilla said, "I can fix that," helping me take it off.

Grabbing a pair of shears off another table, she laid the tunic on the bed. Holding up one of the sleeves she began cutting a few inches below the armpit, making a curving cut around the sleeve and removing it. She then repeated the process for the other sleeve. 

Holding it up, the top now resembling more of a shift than shirt, she told me to try it on.

The tunic fit easily now that my arms could fit through the sides; however, we both realized she had taken off too much fabric beneath the sleeves, as the tunic opened down to almost my waist. Lifting my arms forward, the gap in the material easily showed off the sides of my breasts. Even so, it was functional as Camilla handed me a rope belt to fastened around the tunic and hold it more in place to keep from exposing myself.




Skyrim and the Journey of Cerise Ch. 02



Holding a mirror up for me, I saw the clothing was not fashionable, but very utilitarian as I thanked her profusely, asking how much they wanted for it.

"Just take it," she told me, "it was only scrap material. You can get something nice once you get back on your feet," she said. 

I thanked her once again and made my way out of the shop towards the smithy, grateful I was wearing something other than armor or drapes.





Alvor had not yet arrived, so I stoked the forge, the manual labor taking my mind off my worries as I worked up the fire. It was eventually hot enough to work on the blade I had molded the day before, so proceeded to temper it. 

My body worked on instinct, the hammering of metal soothing as I crafted the blade to how I wanted.

Alvor soon arrived, merely greeting me with a nod. He was giving me the same courtesy I had done earlier—not bothering a craftsman while in the middle of working.

My mind was absorbed on the repetitive task of heating, hammering, and cooling the blade, as I hunched over the forge completely unaware of our surroundings. I lost all track of time while I worked, completely focused upon my task.

Eventually I became aware of somebody standing by me. Looking up I saw Dorthe, who smiled and told me I was as good as her papa, which I thanked her.

Then she said innocently, "Even the men in the village like watching you work!"

I looked around and noticed several men, including Sven who I had met the previous day, gathered by his house beneath the balcony looking towards me. Seeing my attention on them, several turned away in apparent embarrassment as I wondered what they had been talking about. 

Somehow I knew they meant no harm, so continued to work, pulling the blade out of the fire and continued hammering the heated metal to harden it.

Sweat was running down my face from the exertion and the heat of the forge, and I sighed in gratitude when the breeze shifted. The air was now blowing south to north across my body, the welcome coolness caressing the side of my face and torso, as well as it blowing the heat away from the forge. The wind almost tickled as it worked its way through the large cut my arm was through, fanning out the tunic and cooling my heated breasts, and I paused in my hammering, still hunched over, to appreciate the cool breeze as it blew beneath my tunic. 

Suddenly I realized what was going on with the men. The group was to my side, and as I hammered I was leaning forward at such an angle that the material of the tunic was falling forward exposing the large gap Camilla had cut. I comprehended where they were standing they had an unobstructed view of my left breast! 

In addition, the motion of hammering the metal caused my teats to sway in rhythm, now understanding why the men were gathered in that area.

Once again I was not upset about the circumstances. The idea of the men watching me to catch glimpses of my body, even wearing ragged clothes, sent a thrill through me. I felt my breasts tense at the realization and I smiled evilly as I got a playful idea.

I bent forward again to hammer the blade; only now aware of the show I was giving them leaned forward more than necessary, hunching my shoulders forward to open the tunic as much as possible. I knew from that position they were getting a full view of my exposed breast, so began deliberately hammering the heated blade, letting my body sway with the rhythm, my unimpeded breasts moving freely.

Sneaking a peek out of the corner of my eye, I saw the men transfixed. As I hammered, I slowly and purposely turned my head towards them, maintaining my position as I smiled seductively at them. A few were obviously embarrassed, but most smiled back as I continued working on the blade, which was now second in my mind as I displayed myself to the crowd. 

My nipples were hard, even with the heat of the forge against them as I fantasized hands reaching around and grabbing them. The sensation of exposing myself was invigorating, and felt completely natural as I continued to tease the men, thinking they had plenty to talk about tonight at the Inn tonight.

Eventually I no longer had the pretense of exposing myself to them, as I had finished with the blade, so to both their and my regrets, stood up to work on the rest of the dagger.

I next worked on carving the wooden hilt, eventually wrapping the leather around it and fitting the blade. It took the rest of the morning; however, I was pleased with the result as I showed the newly created dagger to the smith.

"Not bad, but it's a little dull," he laughed. "How about you sharpen it up? Just need a bit of metal and the grindstone over there," he said. 

I knew he was being sarcastic. I had expected him to want to see the blade before it was polished and functional, so merely nodded as I went and sharpened the blade to my satisfaction.

Handing over the now sharpened blade he nodded. "This looks good. You put time in your blades, they'll serve you well," he said. "Though I asked for an Iron Dagger you gave me a Steel one in its place, which is even more advanced than I expected," he said sounding pleased.

Looking both me and the dagger in his hand over, he nodded his head saying, "Well, I can definitely use the help if you'd like to work towards some equipment," he told me. "Why don't we break for lunch and when you come back, we can talk about what you need and how much work will help pay it off," he said.

I made my way back to Gerdur and Hod's house. I did not want to impose as much as I had; however, the mention of lunch made me realize I was hungry, figuring I could at least get some bread and a wedge of cheese before returning to the smithy.



As I walked in Gerdur was cooking at the fire. "Ah good, Alvor let you loose for lunch!" she said smiling at me, "and you got some clothes. Although they look like they've been through Oblivion and back," she laughed. "And yet, you look spectacular in it, even the worst of clothes you make a stunning woman," she told me honestly.

I smiled, thanking her. Offering to help with lunch, she told me I was a guest and to go out on the porch and enjoy the nice day; she would call when the food was ready.

I went out, the cool shade feeling good after working before the hot forge all day, leaning on the railing and watching the goings on of the little town. I saw Dorthe and another boy playing with a large dog as she waved at me before returning to her game of hide-and-seek.

"I hear you gave the men quite a show this morning," a deep voice said behind me. 

I smiled, recognizing Ralof's voice behind me. "Well, a girl has to keep occupied somehow," I said without turning around.

I felt him move up to me, his pelvis resting against my ass as he chuckled. "And while you were teasing them, were you imagining this?" he said.

Suddenly I gasped as his hands slide through the sides of the tunic, grabbing my breasts just like I had fantasized. I remained leaning forward on the railing while he kneaded my breasts.

"I thought so," he whispered in my ear, continuing his to squeeze. "And how about this," he queried as he suddenly pinched my hardening nipples.

"Ooh!" I said in surprise and delight as he continued to alternate squeezing and pinching my breasts. I felt the cleft between my legs moisten at his attention as I closed my eyes, relishing the attention.

Hearing the door opening behind us, he pulled back as Gerdur's voice came through the doorway, "The stew is ready," before closing the door.

I turned around to see Ralof smiling at me. "Maybe tonight I won't drink so much mead and we can continue this...discussion," he said.

Feeling my pulse throb through my body I smiled. "That might be a good idea," I told him as I entered the house.

After lunch I met Alvor back at the smithy. "I have an order to repair a Hide Helmet on the bench. Why don't you work on it and see what you can do," he told me.

The helm had obviously seen some use, requiring a complete rewrapping around the hardened base as well as new padding on the inside. I set to working on it, again letting my body work by instinct while my mind wandered. 

In less than an hour it was finished as I handed it over to Alvor for inspection, who was surprised at the speed I had completed the task.

"You have talent, if you keep working at your craft you'll be a fine smith," he told me proudly. "I should make you my assistant," he laughed, "but don't tell that to Dorthe," he winked.

I smiled back as we began to discuss what I was looking for in terms of equipment so he could decide upon payment. I conveyed I was not interested in heavy armor, though could wear it. Instead I was more interested in lighter armor for fighting, preferring to be more nimble than using brute force. I also queried about a more slender sword, the Imperial one being too fat and tip-heavy for my preference. 

As I talked, he looked at me strangely, causing me to ask what was wrong.

"Nothing, but you talk as a true warrior," he told me as he continued to ponder. "You mentioned you were a priestess of Dibella, correct?" he asked after a time, as I told him somehow deep within me I knew that to be the truth. "Yet you talk of weapons and armor as if you were born with them, and you can fashion them with considerable skill," he told me. I felt something momentous occurring as he continued, "I think maybe you are less of a priestess and more a cleric," he said with conviction.

As he mouthed the words I felt a resonance deep within me, feeling the truth. A rush of memory came to me as I realized he was correct. A priestess would sit around in a temple helping those in need, but devoting her seclusion to her god. A cleric was a priestess who took up arms for her god, the 'rightness' of his words ringing strongly to me.

"You're right, I never thought about it," I said to him, happy to learn more about myself, agreeing with his assessment.

He then showed me a design for some reinforced leather armor he had been thinking about for some time, saying it was a pet project of his. As soon as I saw the design, I knew it would be perfect, becoming excited. He smiled at my enthusiasm, as I cautiously asked what he wanted in payment.

He looked at me for a long time, and then said, "I know you've agreed to help Lucas and Camilla get their stolen goods back," he said to which I nodded. "You also helped our lad Ralof avoid the headsman axe," he said.

I told him that was more the dragon's doing than mine as he waved his hand. "Nevertheless, you have a knack for helping out this town. I also know you plan to bring our case to Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun to send some troops here in case the dragon makes it this far north," he said as I nodded.

"All this confirms my suspicion you are in your heart, a true cleric of your goddess, if not more," he paused in thought, "for such kindness to help others in need seems natural to you. Although I would love to have you work here for a time, getting to the Jarl is more important, and I will be happy to equip you for that journey," he told me. "All I will ask is any spoils you may find in the Barrows while helping out Lucas and Camilla I get first pick, at least on weapons or armor you plunder from them," he said. "Fair?" he asked.

I immediately agreed, although I cautioned him I may not find anything in the barrows, expressing to him I was not willing to waste too much time before heading to Whiterun. He smiled telling me it was a gamble he was willing to take.

I asked how long it would be to fashion the armor and he grinned sheepishly, "In truth, I have been working on the armor for some time. When I saw you yesterday, I had already begun sizing it for you," he admitted with a grin. "I would be honored if you could try it on and I'll make any needed adjustments by tomorrow morning so you can head to the barrows properly equipped!"

I was so happy I hugged him, seeing his blush after I let go. I was overwhelmed by his kindness, and this village seemed to house the most decent human beings I had ever met.

He then ushered me into his house, saying he wanted to size the armor as well as for me to look over some swords.

Entering the house I saw Dorthe playing with some dolls and a woman he introduced as his wife Sigrid cooking a meal. Saying he would be right back he entered a cellar door leaving me and his wife and daughter alone.



"So you're the one all the ruckus is about, eh?" his wife said to me as she continued preparing a meal. "You're pretty, I'll give you that," she said, but before I could thank her, she glared at me, "Just stay away from my husband, Alvor," she said vehemently.

Before I could say anything in response we heard Alvor coming up the cellar stairs. As he cleared the opening I saw him carrying a large bundle of armor.

Seeing her husband with the armor she looked at him. "Alvor, that is your pet project, are you sure you want to give it to a stranger?" she asked.

"I'm sure," he said with conviction, "I just need her to try it on," he told his wife.

He helped me put the armor over my clothes as he inspected it. "Needs to be a little looser in the chest," he said, his hands sliding under the straps. 

Although the back of his hands slid across my breast, he was completely professional, ignoring my body and only interested in the armor's fit. Even so, I was acutely aware of his touch as he moved to my shoulders. 

"Hmm, looser up here as well," he said yanking the armor back.

It felt perfect, but I let him make his comments as he made a few notes, marking the armor in a few places with charcoal before helping it off me.

He took the armor back down to his cellar—which I guessed also had a working area—and soon came up the stairs carrying a large, long bundle wrapped in cloth.

"Here we go, some of my finest blades," he told me, unwrapping the parcel to reveal several swords.

All were of expert craftsmanship I noted, lifting each to test their balance and reach. Alvor remained quiet as he watched me maneuver the blades, his approval at my appraisal evident. Finally, I picked one of the blades, telling him it felt the most right for me.

"But it doesn't feel like a complete fit, does it?" he asked with understanding. 

I apologized, telling him they were all fine blades, and that was the best of the lot, but agreed it did completely feel right.

"No need for apologies," he told me. "A sword is an extension of you, and as such, it needs to be the perfect fit. There's one other blade I want you to try," he said glancing over to his wife.

At his words, Sigrid looked up in shock, "Alvor, are you sure?" she asked him.



Once again, as with the coming of the dragon, the need to go to the smithy, and the need to help Lucan, as well as the firm desire I needed to go to Whiterun, I felt a momentous occasion about to occur as I listened to Alvor and Sigrid.

He smiled at his wife, "I'm sure, did she not tell us we would know when the time came?" he asked.

I looked at them perplexed as Alvor explained. "When we first came to this village it was nothing more than the beginnings of a lumber mill and the trader outpost."

I told him Gerdur had spoken the history of the town as he smiled. "Yes, she was the one to see this countryside as more than just a piece of land. She saw it as a place we could call home and raise a family," he said nostalgically. "Sigrid and I moved here after I finished my apprenticeship. We were young and full of spirit, and we chose this as our home," he said as Sigrid sat down next to him, reaching out and holding his hand.

"It was rough, especially in the beginning," she continued as he sat smiling at her. "But we eventually got the forge founded and Alvor made enough tools to start crafting."

Alvor smiled back at her as he said, "At first it was simple items—door hinges, horseshoes, and the like. But as more and more people moved here or passed through, we helped repair armor, weapons, and other gear," he said. "Ah, those were happier times, no talk of wars or dragons," he sighed.

"We had been trying for a child for years, but alas, the gods had not smiled upon us," Sigrid said. "We were told by some of the finest priests and physicians our chances of begetting a child were poor. You see both Alvor and I as children had been sick, and apparently our illnesses had left us infertile," she said sadly.

I looked over at Dorthe who was playing across the house oblivious to our discussion. Sigrid noted my look and nodded as she continued.

"One day Alvor received an order to deliver to Markath, so we both traveled there. Our motives were less on the commission than what was within the city," she told me. Seeing my questioning glance, she explained. "I went to the Temple of Dibella to ask the priestesses there to pray with me for a child," she confessed. "Although sympathetic, at first they refused to intervene, but both Alvor and I were insistent. Finally the high priestess called me into her chambers. Being a man, Alvor had to remain outside, as we were told no man is permitted that far into the Temple," she explained.



I knew her words for truth, although as with previous revelations, I knew not how.

"There she cast a divination, calling upon the goddess directly," Sigrid continued, shivering as she remembered the moment. "She was in a trance for quite some time when suddenly her voice echoed around me, greater and louder than her voice before as she intoned,





Skyrim and the Journey of Cerise Ch. 02



"What!" I exclaimed, "How can that be. How long ago was this?" I asked.

"It will be almost twenty years now," Sigrid said. "We agreed to the demands, for both of our hearts were sorrowed without a child, yet we kept faith. After Dorthe was born, we have waited, but none came who seemed to fulfill the verse," she said looking at me, "until now."

I told them I did not understand and she smiled. "Alvor and I discussed this last night, as we too were uncertain. Times are dire, for we have a war in Skyrim and dragons are once again seen in the skies. You arrived from the southern road, and are from Cyrodil even further south. Your need is great, as you need equipment, and Alvor has agreed to help," she explained. "The first two phrases of the vision we believe have come to pass. The rest we have never understood, but believe this package to be yours," she said.

Deep inside I felt the truth to her words, wondering how something like this could have been predicted over two decades before. Finally I looked at the bundle Alvor was carrying, "What is it?"

"Truthfully, we know not, as we promised not to disturb it and only give it to the one we saw fit," he admitted, "but based upon its weight and length, as well as the third verse, I am guessing a blade," he said.

Doubt filled me, but again, deep within me I knew they spoke the truth. As strange as it sounded, this was a gift for me. I moved to the table where Alvor placed the bundle and slowly untied the leather bindings. Once untied, I unwrapped the cloth slowly revealing its contents.

It was a sword unlike any I had seen before. The blade was straight, the middle flaring out and thicker to take the brunt of an attack, tapering towards the hilt. Upon the blade were various etchings and runes, and for a moment a brief recognition flared within me and then was gone. It was a beautiful blade, but it was the hilt which drew one's eyes, fashioned in the shape of a woman—Dibella herself I knew—crafted in a golden material. The figure was naked, fitting for the goddess of women, love and sensuality, with her hands raised and holding the blade of the sword, gripped in her hands.



It was an odd shape for a hilt, and one you would not think comfortable in your grip, but as my hands clasped around the figure, it fit perfectly. As I raised it, I remembered holding the sword before, a brief memory flashing to me as I stood in the garden showing—somebody—I could not remember as the memory began fading.



Alvor was looking over my shoulder as I heard him whisper, "I have never seen its like," he said as I held it higher into the light.

The sword was perfectly balanced for my arm and hand, as if made for me. As I thrust it forward and gave a few tentative swings it immediately felt a part of me, having that one missing entity the other swords lacked. 

As I held it forward, my arm extended fully I heard Alvor gasp, "By the Divines, it IS your sword."



I looked at him questioningly as he pointed to the hilt. "Look at the pommel, at the rune," he said.

Looking at the hilt I saw the hilt had a rune carved into the pommel, looking like an archway overlapped by a cross as I knew with certainty it was actually two runes superimposed over the other. "Cess," I whispered.

"You know this rune?" Alvor asked.

I nodded, "It's actually two runes, both the letter C in Dwemer and Daedric," I said, unaware of how I knew it.

"Then it is your sword," Alvor said again with certainty.

Looking at him, I grunted, "You don't know that; just because it has the letter of my name doesn't mean it is mine," I told him, although my words sounded flat even to me.

Alvor told me to wait as he went outside. Returning only a minute later he handed me a dagger. As I held it I recognized it being the one I had made for his test, looking at him quizzically.

"Look at the blade, it is identical to the sword," he told me. 

I felt my eyes widen at the revelation as I knew he was correct. I had tempered the blade to expand slightly from the point, narrowing down in an identical curve to the hilt. 

Then he told me mysteriously, "Look at the pommel."

I turned the dagger and looked at the end, my eyes widening in astonishment. There on the end of the pommel, as with the sword, were the same two runes! "How?" I asked, not recalling etching the runes when I had carved the hilt.

Alvor merely shook his head. "You carved that into the hilt, so I assumed it was your trademark, now I don't know," he said. "That sword is old, far older than you. You obviously could not have made it, but maybe you are imitating something you saw before," he said. "I don't know, but it reinforces my suspicions, you are the one to wield this sword, even for a short while as the verse says," he told me.

His words struck a chord of fear in me, as I recalled the verse stating the blade would be wielded for a moment. Temporary could mean my death or losing the sword or it could mean...my mind was in turmoil at the possibilities.

"I...I need to go," I said, placing the sword back on the cloth. "I need to think," I told them.

"Of course," Alvor said. "Still, I will sharpen the blade for you, and have your armor done in the morning," he said.

I thanked him, my mind numb after what had just happened, as I left their home. 

It was dusk, and I slowly made my way back to Gerdur and Hod's house, all of them present as I entered. Immediately looking at me they got concerned, asking what was wrong. 



"I...I need to leave tomorrow," I told them. 

At their surprise I explained what had happened at Sigrid and Alvor's house. 

After I finished the story, Ralof whispered, "By the gods, what does it mean?"

I told them I had as many questions as they did, but could not deny how the sword fit my hand perfectly, leaving out the brief flash of memory from having held the sword before.

"Whatever the case, I need to go to the barrows and see if I can find Lucas' item, then journey to Whiterun to talk to the Jarl," I said. "There are powers beyond me pulling strings," I told them, "so I need to try and find out why; and I feel like time is against me."

We talked some more until Ralof said loudly, "Enough! She needs to travel tomorrow, so tonight, we celebrate!" he said. "We'll go to the Inn," Ralof said, "where we can sing and dance and drink!" he laughed.

"I can't," I said as they argued with me. It was not the fact of wanting to forget what happened I finally confessed, "I don't have any clothes! I gave my Imperial armor to Alvor in payment for the armor he is making me, and these...these rags were only to work at the smithy. I can't go into a public inn like this!" I said, my vanity getting the best of me.

Gerdur laughed, "Aha, I already have a solution to that!" she said happily. "When we were putting on your makeshift dress I realized you had a similar build to Hilde's daughter, who moved to Falkreath many years ago when she got married," she explained. "I talked to the old woman and she still had one of her daughter's dresses," she said, going over to her wardrobe and pulling out a dress.

"Come!" she called me, "try it on, and you boys stay at the table, we'll be right over," she told them as we went around the corner.

Gerdur handed me the dress. It was a two-pieced ensemble composed of fairly small amounts of brown suede; however, not being shy I gladly slipped out of the ragged clothes I had on to put on the dress. 

The top consisted of a tan-colored suede material with a plunging neckline that went almost to my stomach. It was not in a typical "V" opening, instead the material more cup-shaped and enclosing my breasts. The two sides were held together by a thin chain so I would not spill out of it when I moved. The top then fastened around my stomach like a girdle, accentuating my hips. Oddly, the material had a long strap draping down the front of me to hang past my knees as I looked at it curiously.



As Gerdur helped me lace up the top, she told me I would see the purpose of the hanging cloth when I put on the skirt.

The skirt was of similar suede material and as I held it up, I looked at Gerdur in shock. The skirt had a belted waistline, with fabric hanging down to cover my rear and sides; however, was wide open on the front! It was only the flap of material hanging from the top which provided any cover as Gerdur handed me a mirror.

Gerdur also produced a pair of calf-high suede boots that although a bit snug, were wearable. 

"I'm sure Ralof and the other men will enjoy that," she grinned.

Looking in her mirror, I was pleased with how I looked, knowing the men would be watching me all night, probably in the hopes the flap of material in front of me magically disappearing. A pleasant thrill ran through me as I thought about it, glad to have something else to think about instead of prophesies, dragons, and loss of memory. 

Looking at my back with the mirror, I saw the skirt—or half-skirt—hugged my hips flawlessly, showing off my rear perfectly.



Gerdur put on a dress she had, although more conservative than what I was wearing. She did not have to work at the inn tonight, so she was going as a customer.

As we—or I should say I—came around the corner, I thought both Ralof and Hod's eyes were going to fall out of their skull. They stared openly at me as I giggled, my breasts jiggling as the flesh spilled out the top. I twirled around and asked if they liked it, to their immediate approval.



As Gerdur joined us, the men stood up and opened the door, leading us to the inn.

Entering the inn after the others, I looked around. In the center of the main room was a large open fire-pit, while surrounding the walls were various tables and benches where a few people were already seated. I noticed all the men appraising me as I stepped into the main room, a flush filling my body. 

I recognized a few of them, particularly Sven and the guard who had greeted me at the gate, now in more 'civilian' clothes.

Further into the room was the bar, where the innkeeper, a man named Orgnar I was told, stood. A woman moved through the room carrying plates of food and tankards of drink. I assumed she was a barmaid; however, Ralof corrected me, saying that was Delphine, co-owner of the inn.

As we took our seats, Delphine yelled across the room, "Orgnar! Orgnar, are you listening?" she hollered. 

"Hard not to," he grunted behind the bar to her as he cleaned the countertop.

"The ale is going bad, we need to get a new batch," she told him. Waiting a bit, she asked, "Did you hear me?"

Orgnar waved his hand, saying, "Yep, ale's going bad," as he wiped down the top of the bar with a rag.

"I guess you don't have potatoes in your ears after all," Delphine said to nobody in particular. "Just be sure we get in a fresh batch soon."



After hearing their exchange, I asked Ralof if they were married and he burst out laughing, telling me Orgnar was the original owner, but a few years back Delphine moved in like she owned the place. Although starting out as a mere a barmaid, within a week she had taken control of the bar.

"Orgnar's alright, but he's lazy," Ralof said quietly. "Delphine keeps the place running," he said.

I looked towards the other patrons in the bar, all gathered around Sven who was playing a pipe. Although he was not bad, a thin thread of memory came to me that I had heard better. After finishing his song, he waved at me and while Ralof and Hod ordered us drink, so I went to say hello.



I could not help but notice his eyes roving up and down my body in the tight dress as I felt my blood stir. 

I once again wondered what was wrong with me that the slightest look from a man turned me on. It had been over a day since the spiders, but I still felt like I was affected by their venom.

As I neared, Sven appeared upset, so I asked what was wrong as he suddenly blurted, "Faendal thinks he can woo Camilla Valerius away from me!" he stammered. "She's already mine I keep telling him." 

Not sure how to handle his outburst, I asked if he was certain he and Faendal were both interested in Camilla.

"Camilla knows I'm the best man in Riverwood," he said proudly. "That elf is kidding himself if he thinks she would choose him over me," he said.

Although I did not want to get involved, I again asked if he was sure Faendal and he were rivals for her affection.

He nodded. "I've seen him sneaking over to the Riverwood Trader to speak with her when I'm not around," he told me. "He's wasting his time!" he said emphatically.

I could not believe how childish this man was acting as I told him sarcastically, "Yes. Two people spending time together never blossoms into courtship."

Sven was not amused. "Is that sarcasm? I've heard better cracks from Orgnar," he said angrily.

I apologized, asking why he was telling me his problems.

"You have a point," he said reluctantly. "Camilla letting Faendal visit her isn't a good thing for me," he said sadly. "Hey, I have an idea!" he said, turning to a table where he set his flute, along with a drum and several inkwells and paper.

He wrote quickly on a piece of parchment and fanned it dry, handing it to me.

"Here, let me give you a particularly venomous letter. Say it's from Faendal. That should get Camilla to stop inviting him over!" he said.

I realized Sven was crazy, stupid, or drunk, settling on all three as I took the letter. Looking it over I was surprised how legible and believable it was, showing the bard at least had some talent with words.





Skyrim and the Journey of Cerise Ch. 02



I was quickly grabbed around the waist by Ralof for another dance, then Hod, then a merchant travelling through town to Falkreath. The songs seemed to get livelier and livelier and I realized it was not without purpose as the men all watched my chest bounce as I moved. 

As I started to dance to another song with Ralof I saw a couple men go to Sven and hand him a few coins. Although the crowd and music were loud, I was able to hear above the song, "Just keep the songs going, we can watch that wench's tits all night," they laughed as I felt my skin heat up.



I danced a few more songs, enjoying the attention, the drink, and the camaraderie when eventually Sven announced he was taking a break. As everybody broke off to sit at their tables he came up to me. "My lady, would you care to join me in a stroll outside to cool off from all the exertion?" he asked.

I agreed to go with him, as my skin was glistening with sweat from all the dancing. I told Ralof and his family I would be back shortly as Sven guided me outside, the cool night air refreshing. 

We made our way off the front porch of the inn as Sven put his arm around my waist, guiding me to the back of the inn where there was small garden and stable with a few bales of hay. 

As we walked, Sven asked how I was enjoying Riverwood and I told him it was a peaceful village. I told him I hoped the dragon avoided it to which he laughed, saying I sounded like his mother. Getting serious, I told him the dragon was real, whether his mother had actually observed it I did not know, but having seen it with my own eyes, I could not doubt.

We had reached the small stable and sat down on a bundled square of hay to rest. "And your work with Alvor, is it going as you expected?" he asked, looking at me slyly.

I smiled back, "The work has had its little rewards," I said as I winked him.

"Yes, I saw you working today," he smiled in return.

I felt my body flush with excitement as I asked him what he thought of my working.



"I think," he said bending close to me, "I'd like to see more," he finished as he gave me a deep kiss.

I moaned as his tongue instantly slid between my lips, invading my mouth; then again as his hands moved to touch my chest, rubbing my breasts through the top. As our tongues danced I felt the material of my dress part, realizing he had unfastened the chain holding the top pieces together. 

When I did nothing to protest the exposure, only feeling my lust rising, Sven reached up and slid the material off my shoulders, the loose material sliding across my nipples until my breasts were freed from the top, the cool night air chilling them.

They were not cool for long as Sven's hands began massaging my exposed chest while we kissed, my moans echoing into his mouth as my body heated to his touch.

Breaking from the kiss to breathe, I let out a loud "Oh!" as his mouth clamped onto one breast, sucking my nipple into his mouth. My body became even more receptive as his tongue flicked across the tightened bud, my groans of pleasure immediately following. 

Meanwhile his other hand continued to knead the flesh of my alternate teat, the dual pleasure driving me mad with desire as my hands held his head in place, running through his hair.

Soon he switched, taking my other nipple into his mouth while his hand played with the breast he had just suckled, his fingers sliding smoothly across my skin and the saliva coating it. 

Eventually he backed away and I looked down, seeing the moonlight glistening off my saliva-coated nipples.

I told him to stand up as he complied, reaching up and pulling his leggings down. His manhood sprang out before me, pale in the moonlight as I grabbed his shaft to steady it. Without a thought I engulfed him into my mouth.



It was his turn to moan as my lips slid down his shaft, my tongue flicking the underside of his cock as he had with my nipples. I sucked harder as I pulled back, stopping just to where my lips were wrapped around the head as I then guided my mouth in one swift movement back down his shaft. 

I began increasing my pace, moving my head up and down his shaft, slowly at first, but faster as I felt his hips begin to move in rhythm to my motions.



After a few moments Sven pulled away and I looked up at him questioningly, seeing his cock sparkling in the moonlight from my saliva, knowing my lips were just as glistening.

"I need to be inside of you," he said smiling.

He leaned me back onto the square bundle of hay as I placed one leg on each side of the long rectangle. As if revealing a prize, he slowly pulled the flap hanging between my legs to the side, giving a complete view of my naked pelvis. 

He wasted no time as he lay on top of me, his hips moving forward blindly. Reaching down, I grabbed his shaft—his hips twitching at the sensation—and guided him to my opening. Slowly moving his hips forward, I felt the lips of my entrance part for the head of his shaft as he then pulled back. 

He continued to tease my entrance several times before I groaned, telling him "Now!" as he thrust into me.

I gasped as he fully entered me, the entrance to my canal spreading apart as his manhood invaded my body. I let out a loud moan as he slid in further, the walls of my passage stretching before him, my body eagerly accepting him. 

Once fully inside, he began to slowly move in and out of me, as I put my arms around him to hold me to him. As his hips moved more steadily back and forth I then raised my legs, hooking them behind his thighs as my own hips rose to meet his thrusts.

The sensation of his cock sliding in and out of me, the head of his dick producing more friction as it slid over the walls of my canal back and forth, was unbelievable. I felt myself slowly building to orgasm as I began to move my hips faster, my gasps now becoming audible groans of "Oh...Oh...Oh!" filling the stable and night.

Sven was grunting as well, his face buried in the crook of my neck as he fucked me incessantly, his hips moving even faster to match the movement of my hips, my groans urging him on. 

I felt my breasts tighten, my whole body beginning to flush as an orgasm began to approach. And then—it stopped. As with the other night when Hod had fucked me, I reached a threshold only to have it pulled back again as my body once again began to build to a crescendo.

I moaned in frustration at the missed orgasm while Sven continued to thrust into me, faster and faster. 

Once again I felt myself building, waiting for the wave of pleasure to overwhelm me as he now relentlessly pummeled in and out of me; and once again as I almost reached the moment I was denied release, my body again building up.

Unfulfilled, I began rotating my hips, trying different angles as Sven drove into me. 

He was no longer aware of me as he sated his own desire his cock slamming into me to satiate his own desire. The night echoed with our groans and the rapid 'slap-slap-slap' of our bodies meeting together as I yet again felt myself rise to a moment of pure release—only to have it disappear as I ground my hips into his in frustration.

My hip movements were too much for Sven as he let out a long groan, thrusting one last time into me as his cock began to vibrate within me, the warm heat of his ejaculate filling me. I gasped as his full weight laid upon me while his hips made small thrusts forward, my legs pulling him deep within me, the walls of my womanhood milking out his shaft.

Almost immediately I began to feel alive, rejuvenated as if him cumming inside me strengthened me. I cannot describe the sensation as I felt my body flushed with desire and energy, my senses even more aware. I could fell the soft breeze of the night on my body, the moonlit landscape brighter, even when behind a cloud. I could hear animals around the village and the river rushing past as my body lay with Sven's cock inside me, his balls emptying into me.

Slowly he pulled back, giving my breast a quick kiss as he stood up. 

Looking down at me, he smiled as I laid there, my legs once again on each side of the hay as I caught my breath, letting the sensations around me come to equilibrium.

"Please don't mention this to Camilla when you give her the letter," he told me as he pulled up his leggings. Smiling down at me and seeing me not moving, said he had to get back to singing as he turned and headed back to the Inn.

I laid there for a few minutes gathering my breath while my pulse raced through me. Although the sensations around me were vivid, I was exasperated at not achieving the orgasm I wanted. I had come so close, and yet had been denied, and certainly not for lack of trying. I needed Sven to finish what he had started.

Hearing footsteps, I realized Sven had returned as I looked up, a moonlit shadow standing before me.

"So here's where our auburn stranger has decided to roost." I recognized the guard's voice whom I met the other day.

I sat up, propped on my elbows as I smiled at him. He was not unhandsome, and I could imagine the sight I was, my breasts free, my skirt pulled up around my waist exposing my pussy as he smiled back.

"If that's not an invitation lass, you better speak now," he said as he began unbuckling his belt.

I felt my body flush; having been so close to an orgasm, I wanted it more than anything as I leaned back down. The guard moved forward and knelt on the hay between my legs as he smiled. I slid my hand across my breast as I smiled back waiting to see what he would do.

I did not have to wait long as he reached down with his hands, sliding them around my thighs and raising my legs. I tried to help, but I was in an awkward position as he pulled my legs higher, his hands sliding further down my thighs to the back of my knees. He moved his hands up as my legs were raised, firmly gripping my calves. 

Resting my legs on his shoulders, I looked between my legs and saw his cock sticking straight out. It was long—longer than Sven's or even Ralof's—being well over 25 cm. Without a word he bent down, almost bending me in half at the waist as with one thrust, he plunged into me.

"Ah-oooh-uhn," I cried out as he impaled me, his cock not as wide as Sven's, but much longer, skewering himself deep within me. If I had not just had Sven inside of me it would have hurt; however, I was well moistened from not only my own desire but Sven's seed.

The guard wasted no time for foreplay as he relentlessly slammed his hips into me, bending me in half. His thrusts were so vigorous my breasts bounced wildly until the rhythm evened out and they began spinning in motion while the guard speared into me repeatedly.

Each thrust pushed the air out of my lungs, as I could only gasp for breath and grunt, my voice echoing through the stall, bringing the "Ooah...Ooah...Ooah" of my moans repeatedly to my ears. In accompaniment with my cries was the slapping of skin on skin and the faint squishing of his cock sliding in and out of me.

I felt my desire building as I draped my hands over the hay, letting the guard use me unrelentingly as I felt the orgasm build. My breasts began to tighten as I felt my canal clenching down in preparation. I began raising my hips as I felt the wave of pleasure almost upon me.

And then it stopped.

"Fuuuck," I cried out, the overwhelming denial of my orgasm causing my body to once again heat up, only this time in anger as I clenched my fists.

The guard, thinking I was in the throes of passion, found even more vigor as he sped up even faster, his pants of exertion drowning out my own moans. He was moving so fast I could not distinguish between him moving in or out of me, his cock being one continuous motion within me.

"Divines!" he cried out as his hips slammed into me one last time, the heat of his seed going deep within me, splashing against my womb. 

He collapsed on me, bending me in half as my legs uncomfortably remained hooked around his shoulders while his hands kneaded my breasts. He made a few slow thrusts, emptying the last of his desire into me before pulling out.

Once again I felt a rush of energy flow through me, as if the seed of a man was what my body craved as opposed to a good night's rest. My senses became even more alive, the night no longer shades of greys and blues, but appearing bright, as if it were daylight although I saw the moon clearly in the sky. I could hear the chirping of frogs far outside the town, where the river slowed. Crickets no longer were creaking, but instead I swore I could discern the sliding of their legs rasping together.

I sucked in a large shuddering gasp of air as my body was overcome with sensations of the night around me. I heard the guard laugh, as he assumed I was cumming, the realization of being denied release once more angering me.

He finally stood up as my legs thankfully came down, the exertion placed upon my hips now relieved as I looked up at the guard, seeing him pulling up his breeches.

"Aye, you're a nimble lass to be sure," he said grinning at me.

After lying on my back for so long with my hips bent at such an extreme angle, my legs almost to my own shoulders, I rolled off the firm square of hay until I came to rest on my knees. I was still out of breath from the exertions so leaned forward, resting my elbows on the hay, my breasts gently caressing the dried grass as I rested.

I felt warmth on the inside of my thighs as fluid—a combination of the guard and Sven's releases—escaped me, slowly trickling down the inside of my thighs.

I rested thus to catch my breath, the awareness of the night overcoming me when I was suddenly startled by a loud voice, "Oi now, what is going on here." 

I looked around my shoulder to see Orgnar coming towards the guard.

"I'm done with her," the guard told him slapping him on the shoulder, "you can have your turn," he said and walked away.

I remained bent over the hay as I looked over my shoulder at Orgnar. I was quite a sight draped over the hay, my clothes bunched around my waist and showing my bare ass and pussy, my breasts hanging below me. As if to give him a better view, the clouds dispersed as the moonlight fully revealed my body. 

I was still angered at not reaching an orgasm after coming close so many times. I was thankful for the renewed vigor I was feeling; however, the denial of a complete release angered me more than ever. 

Looking back at the barkeep still admiring my naked body I took my anger out on him, "Either do something or leave," I yelled at him, turning my head and resting my head on my forearms, trying to let the frustration and lack of release flow out of my body.

I heard a noise, recognizing the sliding of cloth on skin as I felt a presence closer to me. Looking down behind me, I recognized Orgnar's knees as his hands applied pressure on my thighs, pushing my legs outwards, causing me to spread them. 

He placed his hands on my hips and I instinctively tilted my hip back in acceptance of him.

Suddenly my cleft flared in almost excruciating pain as Orgnar slammed into me.

"Ghaaahaaa!" I screamed out in anguish as what felt like a tree limb invaded my body. The echo of my yell came back from the mountains as a slight relief hit me when he pulled back, only for him to plunge back into me as I squealed again loudly, but not as before, the echo of my "Goonrah!" grunt-yell coming clearly through the night.

The girth of Orgnar's cock was incredible as he plunged in and out of me, my canal slowly adjusting to the extreme girth.



Soon my screams of distress were replaced by those of pleasure as I began to meet his thrusts with my body, my ass slamming against his pelvis. The night reverberating with the sounds of my flesh against his, my grunts echoing through the night as Orgnar fucked me with his massive cock, the rhythmic grunts of "Gnah...Gnah...Gnah" mixing through the night with occasional cries of "Yes!"

My breasts were rasping across the dried hay as he pounded into me, the sound of our skin slapping together muffled by my moans of pleasure as I once again felt my desire building to a peak.



Orgnar's hands slid forward and cupped my breasts as I felt the desire build. Suddenly he pulled me up against his chest, his hands roughly kneading my breasts as he pistoned into me. My entire body was bouncing, his thrusts brutally forceful as the lust built within me.

And then, immediately, it left me. 

"Nooo," I moaned out loud plaintively as Orgnar continued to assault my cunt.

I was surprised as Orgnar grunted into my ear, "Grunahhh," as I felt his cock pulse inside me, his seed filling my canal. 

I could feel the heat spread within me as he continued to cum, the sensation overwhelming as I felt an entire kettle being poured into me. And still he came. I could feel warm fluid rolling down the inside of my thighs as I wondered if it was from the other two men, or if Orgnar was truly overflowing out of me.

He eased me forward as his cock continued to pump inside me, the sudden influx of energy pouring through me almost orgasmic in its own sense.



Once again I felt strengthened. It was almost inhuman as my senses became even more accurate. The moonlit night was clear as day, shadows from the angle of the moon even shiningly bright. And yet I still felt angered at being denied release, overshadowing the oddly increased energy my body was feeling.



Orgnar pulled out, releasing me as I fell forward in exhaustion. The vacancy left by his member inside me causing as much torment as his initial entrance, and I moaned at how empty I felt.

I again felt wetness spreading between my thighs as I looked down, seeing a steady stream of cloudy fluid falling to the ground from my cleft, the release of three men dribbling out of me.

Even without the release of my pent up lust I felt wonderful, more alive than ever as I heard Orgnar move away.

"Wait," I told him.

As he turned around I crawled over to him and reaching up, pulled his britches back down, revealing a cock almost as thick as my arm! 

I reached up and kissed the tip of his cock, smiling at him. "Thank you," I told him as he smiled. He reached out with something and I recognized the rag he had been using on the bar as I took it from him.

"Your friends are missing you inside," he said as he turned and walked away.

I stayed there a few more moments, a part of me wondering in anticipation if anybody else was coming, before I finally went to the task of cleaning myself up. There was a small pool of glittering fluid beneath me and I wondered if I would be leaking all night as I used the bar rag to clean up.

Finally I pulled my dress back in order. Satisfied I was at least presentable again, I walked back to the inn.

Upon entering, I heard Ralof's voice immediately yell, "There she is!" as I saw him raise his tankard, beckoning me over to the table.




Skyrim and the Journey of Cerise Ch. 02



The inn was even more crowded, and upon mentioning it to Ralof he laughed drunkenly, "Aye, a group of merchants arrived, so the whole town is here to welcome them," he said. "It's standing room only," he told me, "but I have a seat for you!" he laughed. 

Instantly his hand yanked me down to his lap to the cheers of those around us. I adjusted my position a bit better as somebody handed me a tankard full of mead. 

Looking up, I saw it was Orgnar who said "On the house," winking at me.

I took a long pull, the alcohol refreshing on my parched throat—realizing I had probably been yelling quite a bit outside. 

The Sleeping Giant Inn was filled with revelry, the sounds of laughter, yelling, and music filling the large common room for which I was thankful. Earlier it had been too quiet, and I had a feeling if it were not for the crowd, my cries of pleasure would have been heard by everybody. With my heightened senses it was almost too loud, yet the crowd's merriment quickly infused me.

I saw Hod and Gerdur dancing, their seat having been taking by an elf Ralof introduced as Faendal. I immediately recognized the name from Sven, his fake letter almost gaining weight in my pocket as I greeted the elf.

As we talked I realized the elf was quite amicable, liking him almost instantly as we talked about his travels before settling down in Riverwood. "Riverwood's agreeable enough, I suppose. For a Nord village," he told me. "I would still be traveling if it were not for meeting Camilla," he admitted. "When we're together I no longer hear the call of wood and dale, but instead, hearth and home," he sighed as we drank.

"Faendal knows the areas around Riverwood better than anybody. He's even been to the Barrows a few times," Ralof told me. "In fact, if you are agreeable, he's willing to guide you there," he said.

Once again I felt a 'rightness' at the statement as I asked the elf if he would mind, telling him I could not pay him as a guide. He told me he was not offering for the pay, but the chance to help out the town as I comprehended Faendal was a much better man—or elf—than Sven.

We talked a bit more when I eventually asked about him and Camilla and Sven.

"Sven," he said with some vehemence. "He's an alright bard, and occasionally he even finds time to do his job at the mill," Faendal said. "He thinks his ballads and sonnets are going to convince Camilla to marry him," he told me taking a long drink from his tankard. "As if she would say 'yes,'" he spat. "An intelligent, beautiful woman would not fall for that nonsense," he said taking another drink as I heard him mutter into his cup, "I hope."

I told him he did not sound very convinced as he confessed, "I just have been thinking, maybe Camilla needs help seeing Sven for what he really is," he said.

He reached into his tunic and pulled out a letter as a sense of premonition overwhelmed me.

"I know I don't know you well, but you've met her. Could," he stammered, "could you give her this letter and say it's from Sven? I think I've matched that Nord's lack of cleverness perfectly," he said, handing me a folded piece of parchment.

Asking for his permission, I opened it,