Skyrim: A Sexual Adventure
From Create Your Own Story
Clip clop, clip clop, clip clop...
Blearily your eyes open upon a mountainous world coated in fresh falling snow and biting winds; you're on a prison wagon, hands bound, sharing the uncomfortable cart with three men.
Directly across from you, a blonde haired Nord notices you, "So, you're finally awake. You're the one we picked up in Cyrodiil, right? Just like that thief over there."
Sitting next to the Nord, a wiry muscled youth grunts, "Damn you Stormcloaks! Its you that the Empire wants, not me! Hey," he said, now addressing you, "hey, you're not a Stormcloak... how'd you end up here?"
You smile grimly as you recall exactly how you ended up on a prison cart...
Three days ago...
"That's right whore," the Thalmor nobleman sneered at you, roughly pulling your skull to his hips, "choke on it!"
Honestly, over the years you certainly had many larger, more impressive cocks down your throat, but pretended to choke for your customer's sake; even as you lightly struggled against the noble, your experienced fingers wriggled inside his tight anus as he requested.
He grunted, "Get ready, bitch, here it comes!"
You relished in the sweet taste of the noble's sperm as it trickled down your throat, the surprisingly pleasant taste being the only enjoyable part of this particular job.
He sat back down on his master bed, looking a little winded, "I suppose you'll want paying now?"
"Yes, milord," you reply. "Five hundred gold was the agreed upon fee."
"Yes, well, I don't believe I'll be paying that," he said, even as his bedroom doors burst open and two guards hauled your protesting, nude body to standing position. "Guards, take this harlot away!"
Back in the wagon, you sigh ruefully, "I misjudged."
The young Nord snorted.
One hour later...
"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm," read the Imperial soldier, checking off the Stormcloak Rebellion leader's name.
"Wait..., step forward," the soldier said, looking at you. "Who are you?"
