Dovahkiin: Birth of a Conqueror

Lydia

Alik Stormborn burst into Breezehome, furious, frustrated and filthy. The howling wind and rain had reduced the roads to muck, and spoiled his hunt. He had sought Voslaarum for three days and three nights without rest, ever since the mighty bronze bitch laid waste to a village south of Whiterun. He had sworn not to return without its head. For the weeping mothers and orphaned children, such a trophy held the promise of vengeance in the guise of solace, but for Alik, it was neither avarice, nor benevolence. It was ambition.

His sin was pride and he burned hotter than any dragon's fire to slake that dark thirst. To become greater than any man or mer in all of Tamriel. When the common people looked upon him they saw a hero, and the nobles, a tool, but those who knew him best would know his lip curls in disgust for either epitaph. No, Alik was a **** of nature, an inferno that that burned as it wished and woe betide any foolish enough to draw close, be they friend of foe. One such person was Lydia, his housecarl and companion. She was a living reward from Balgruff, totted as a great warrior, loyal companion and knowledgeable guide... to Alik she was little more than a mule.

"Oblivion take that beast!" Alik roared as he tore his way out of his heavy black armor, mud splattering across the thick rugs that lined the floor. Lydia followed closely behind him, in a similarly bedraggled state. "I will not be denied!"

"Soon, my Thane. Patience is the mark of a true hunter." She tried to sooth him, but was cut off in an instant.

"You are but a servant to the Dragon. Not the Dovahkiin yourself. Remember your place, girl." He turned on her, his eyes afire. His gaze swept her up and down. Shining first with anger, and then... Looking into those eyes she could only imagine herself a hare, looking into the gaze of hungry wolf.. "You are tracking mud about."

"I am sorry, my Thane." She said squirming under his gaze. "I will fetch a bucket and brush."

"No." He commanded, his voice dark with intent. "Filthy as you are you would only make things worse." He nodded to the nearby tub, then slid the last of his muck caked clothes off, his boots, even his undergarmets and dropped them by the door. Rippling muscle gleamed in the orange light of the nearby fire, tracing long lines down his shoulders and belly, like an arrow drawing Lydia's eyes ever lower to the swollen spear between his legs. They widened in sudden surprise and fear before snapping upwards. Neither of them spoke a word, merely held each other's gaze as his unspoken command became clear.

Heart pounding out of her chest, she slid her own coverings off. Hard steel giving way to soft curves and supply skin as pale as moonlight. Her legs were long and well-defined in their muscle, Alik could only imagine how good they would feel wrapped around his waist. Her modesty defended only by a short warrior's tunic, soon discarded when she felt his hands grip the hem and with a single tug, pull it over her head. She was bare to him, as naked as a babe and so close she could see the flecks of gold and green in his dark eyes. She dare not look anywhere else.

"The water is old and cold, lord." She tried once more to defend her chastity. "Let me fetch hot water before I scrub your back."

He smirked and waved a hand over the water, a flash of green light and a shudder in reality as the world bent yet to his sorcery. Steam now rose from the crystal clear bath, and a gentle aroma of soap and sweetpine sent a tingle down her spine. Was the hare meant to enjoy being devoured? He sat down in the tub with a moan of appreciation. "Come, join me."

"There is not space enough-

"You will sit upon my lap, housecarl." His smile was knowing. In truth she had only stumbled further into his lecherous advances. The tub was large enough for the two of them to bathe beside one another. Though now she had razed her last excuse and placed herself at this man's mercy, what little existed.

Lydia lowered herself astride him, facing away and hands twitching to preserve her modesty all the while. His soft laughter in response made her burn with more anger than shame. The water was a welcome relief as she sank into it. Still, when she felt the hardness of his manhood poke against her behind she nearly jumped. More laughter.

"My Thane, I have not been trained to... serve you in this way. Perhaps I could find someone more suitable in the tavern?" Her hands were wrapped tightly around her middle, palms under each breast and yet, deep in her core, she could not help but feel warmth begin to spread as her traitorous body slickened with thoughts of what was to come.

He did not take her as a stallion takes as mare, as she had feared, instead his touch was gentle, pulling out her arm and scrapping away the mud with a bit of obsidian, before laving it with soap, first one, then the other. He was washing her, she realized. Whether it was simply a ploy to weaken her resolve, or a make her a more palatable meal for him to devour, Lydia could not deny his firm touch felt good. His strong hands massaged her aching shoulders next and dotted her neck with sweet perfume, before gently tugging her hair free of its braids and knots and combing it straight once more. Bit by bit, she felt the anxiety leak out of her, no matter how she tightly she tried to grip it, and in its place was a dangerous warmth that hummed with primal purpose whenever his hands accidentally grazed her sensitive nipple or the ticklish flesh of her thigh.

"My lord." She gasped, the man's touch was making her head spin. Thoughts and words became jumbled. So she spoke simply and true. "You mustn't!"

"You do not enjoy my touch?" He asked, his tone mocking.

"You are skilled my lord. But you take what I do no offer."

He said nothing in reply, both his hands sliding around to weigh the fullness of her breasts, cupping and squeezing each as if testing their ripeness, before pinching her nipple between his hard fingers. She mewled in response. He left one hand there, squeezing and pinching, while the other slid down the firmness of her belly to trace the the lips of her sex. Her core was weeping with desire, she realized, only a moment before his finger found a spot that made her see Aetherius itself. She let out a cry of desire, nuzzling her head against his own, her hips rising nearly out of the tub in response- would he kiss her? In the stories men would kiss their beloved ones. As a girl she had longed to be someone's one and only. The books she'd devoured in secret spoke of flower crowns and sweet knights, who whispered sonnets in lady's ears as the stars shone down on them. It spoke nothing of the dark hunger in Alik .... a hunger she feared was beginning to awake in her own belly as well. Would she be tainted by his touch? Would she... like it?

As she sank back down, Lydia realized her thighs were now astride his lance; the lips of her womanhood at long last nuzzling the impossibly thick pillar of his cock. She shuddered, torn nearly in half at the wrongness of this, of his disregard for her wishes, against her **** need to discover how deep this Draugr burrow led, she could only moan as his hands found her sensitive button once more and **** more pleasure upon her body. She shook her head as she felt her peak approaching, closer and closer with every touch inflicted upon her, until at least it crashed into her like a tidal wave breaking over an unsuspecting village. She screamed her joy until her throat ran hoarse. She lay limp and sated in his arms for what felt like an eternity until he began to stir beneath her.

"Come." His whisper in her ear was husky with desire. "It is time for you to clean me."

Alik rose out of the tub and sat upon its edge. She turned to face him, her eyes widening in fear as his spear prepared to lay siege to her body at last. It was thicker than her wrist and longer than her forearm, surely he could not ask her to take it inside. She would be torn in two! She looked up at him, saw that there was no mercy in his eyes and her protests died on her lips. One way or the other, she was going to satisfy him, better if it was her choice, than his conquest.

She started slowly, licking at the plum-sized head and watching in fascination as it twitched in response. It was perhaps even more sensitive than her own bits. If she could but bring him to a quick finish with her mouth or hands, perhaps her breasts as she had heard some men enjoyed-

Further thoughts were driven out of her head as Alik **** his cock into her open mouth. Her lips stretched wide, Lydia could only **** and scream as inch after impossible inch was **** nearly to her throat. She gagged, struggled against the hands holding firm at the back of her head and then all at once was free, **** and gasping. She blinker back tears and looked up at him.

"Serve better." Alik warned. She nodded a fervent promise and gripped his shaft in both hands, stroking and squeezing the water slick trunk. Not daring to open her mouth again, she instead kissed and licked swollen purple crown, redoubling her efforts at every moan and pleasured cry she wrung from him. When he began to swell in her hands, she did not pulled away, but instead opened her mouth at last to receive his 'gift'.

"Yes!" Alik shouted. "Drink it all!"

And she did, gulping furiously as the endless streams of salty seed filled her mouth and then spilled out over her face and hands. She did not slow or stop until she had devoured ever bit of his potent seed. When she was finished, she opened her mouth to show that she had swallowed it all. Her lord gazed at her, his expression as hungry as ever. He reached down and lifted her into his strong arms- as if she weighed nothing at all- and threw her gently onto his bed, his intentions as clear as good glass.

"My lord, you have already finished. Surely that is enough for one night?" Lydia's gaze dropped down to his angry spear, harder than ever and aimed at her softness. She gasped at the sight. "But I thought once a man came-

"I am no man. I am a dragon made flesh." He said as pounced upon squirming form. She tried to wiggled free, to push or punch or claw him back, but his need was too great and her strength long since exhausted. She squeezed her eyes shut in defeat as he casually pinned both of her hands above her head with only one of his own. His other exploring her supply body once more, stopping briefly to fondle her aching breasts before dancing lower to circle her sensitive mound once more. He swallowed her surprised gasp with his mouth, conquering her as he had the rest of her body, his soft lips pressed gently against her own, as his tongue darted forward like in a thief in the night to invade her mouth. The feel of it made her head swirl and her loins ache.

She felt him press her trembling legs apart, hips settling between her soft thighs. The hot hardness of his spear nudged at her opening. A hair's breath from losing her innocence forever, she opened her eyes at last.

"I am still a maiden, my Lord." She pleaded. "I ask that you spare my virtue, so I might gift it to my future beloved?"

Alik shook his head. "I claim your maidenhead by my right as master of this house. And you shall serve me in the coming days in in my bed, as well as you have on the road. Be brave for me, my Lydia. It is time you became a woman."

A shudder passed through her as he said her name for the first time. The sound of it on his lips made her heart flutter and her belly ache. Was she tainted like him now? A wicked thing, meant only for pleasure. And what did he intend for her after this moment? She did not know, she only knew that his will would be made real, and that her submission would be preferable to ruination.

She nodded and he slid into her silky depths. The tightness of her virgin walls beat at his shaft as he pressed deeper, her body tight as a bowstring as she held her breath against his invasion. Every inch of her was strong it seemed, and deliciously wet, thanks to his previous ministrations. Her beautiful face in a delightful mixture of wound and wonder. A supple doe, gazing up at her hunter. Alik savored the sight, knowing he was the first and only man to see her this way. As he reached her barrier, he planted a gentle kiss upon her brow.

"Wrap your legs around me, Lydia." He commanded. He took in the sight of her as a maiden one last time. Her cheeks flushed and mouth opening and closing wordlessly, her ample chest heaving and down below... her sweet hole quivering as it stretched tight 'round his sacred spear. The sight of her nearly took his breath away. "My sweet doe... how pretty you are in defeat."

His mighty spear pressed against her hymen- stretching and straining until the fragile barrier finally burst -and he broke through. He was deeper than any man had ever been, but still her body sought to keep that last few inches of him out. He pulled back and thrust. She cried. Thrust! She screamed. THRUST! She wailed as at last, he rooted his pillar in her depths. Alik growled in satisfaction at the sight of her virgin's blood, oozing out to smear his purse and licked the hot tears from her cheeks as he waited for her whimpers to fade.

"My lord, I feel so full." She whispered. "Am I a woman now?"

"Soon." He promised, and then he began to move. She clung to him as he worked himself in her, small motions at first as he shaped her to fit him and him alone. Then longer strokes, from tip base as he claimed her for himself. Every movement brought both pleasure and pain, though the former was growing and the latter receding with by the second. His weapon was a curious thing, like iron wrapped in velvet, and as it pressed deep, so deep, within her tender walls she felt warmth spread in her core. There was a tiny spot in her walls, that Alik's spear seemed made to scratch, and with every ticklish rub the warmth in her belly spread, first to her aching breasts, then everywhere all at once. She felt herself crest again, her torn walls clenching around his shaft, squeezing tightly even as he thrust deep again and again. It was as if she were seeking to drain him as if she were a milkmaid working her cow. Realization shot through her like a lightning bolt.

"My lord, it is my fertile time." Lydia gasped. "If your seed should spill inside me-

Hearing her words Alik groaned in pleasure and took a pebbled nipple into his mouth. He thrust again once, twice and held himself deep, his hands crushing their hips together and his cock spurting heavy wads of seed against the mouth of her womb. Lydia shrieked in broken surrender, in frantic defiance, but mostly in simple bliss. She felt his heat settle dangerously in her core, twitching in pleasure with each burst.

They lay together in the early hours of the morning, his hand tracing love notes in the soft skin of her back. Alik's need had been great indeed. He had taken Lydia twice more before he was satisfied. Once on her knees riding him without shame, his finger rubbing her sensitive nub deliciously-'woman's pearl', he called it -and after that, pounding her behind without mercy, as the stallion takes the mare. He had filled her with his seed both times. Even now, she watched it ooze from her stretched hole.

"Did I cause you much pain?" He asked.

"Some. But I would be a fool to regret this." She admitted. "You were right. I have never felt more a woman than this moment. After all..." Her words turned contemplative and her hand drifted to just below her navel. "I am sworn to carry your burdens."