He was a young Dunmer, a mage by trade, known as Semeht'Lyr Sekemyenndew, which translates to "Small Shadow" from his native tongue. He treaded through the snow, and he found himself growing weary. The sun dipped behind the western peak, signaling the coming brutal night. He knew, inside of himself, he knew he couldn't die forgotten on this rock. He would have to pick up the pace.
He mustered as much magika as he could, and gouts of searing flames roared from his hands. The snow in front of his outstretched fingers melted and he blinked at the bright fire. With the spell still active, Semeht trudged his way through a much more navigable mud.
There was a slight distortion in the flames, and the dark skinned mage felt himself grow suddenly weary, and warmth settled around his whole body. He felt like he was about to lose concentration on his spell when there came an intense feeling of release. The warmth was unimaginable, and he saw the mud in front of him bubbling from the intensity of the strange power. The flames then kept flowing from his hands in the proper continuous stream, and he pushed onward, unconcerned. Magic was often unpredictable
A sudden drop ended his spell; the inversion of his feet and head twisted him downwards through the mud, disorienting him. It had made it so that he came out of the bottom of it headfirst, and he felt himself held fast around his waist, halting his fall. A quick glance around revealed a vast library, scarcely lit by torches in sconces that were fixed to the sides of the bookcases. He saw the twisting, musty labyrinth that felt both crushingly claustrophobic, and dizzyingly infinite. It reminded him of the depths of the sea. Below him, directly below him, actually, he could barely make out a figure, if he stretched his neck upwards, or rather downwards, to look.
The robed figure moved forward, hood drawn up close around their face. The mage heard a gentle, confident voice washed over him as the figure turned, and it took him a moment to realize he was being asked a question.
"Do not make me repeat myself again. Tell me: WhO arE yOu?" It spoke with a vicious, viscous bubbling of a voice. "Aherm, rather, i mean what do you call yourself?
This time, Semeht found his voice. "E-erm, im Semeht'lyr Sekemyenndew. Most call me Small Shadow."
"Do you know that spell you were casting, whelp?" The figure crossed it's arms expectantly.
"Yeah, it's… flames…?" As young as he was, he felt like this was fairly common knowledge.
"No… No, the one you casted, there right before i brought you here. Did you not see it? I suppose i could show you instead."
"S-show me what?" He coughed. The weight of the mud felt as if it would crush him. though admittedly, the now churning mud felt nice against his cold flesh, it was warm and soothing, but still, it was very tight.
Just as he began to enjoy the sensation of the warmth, it was gone. He fell unabated for 15 or so feet to the floor. He felt a few ribs crack, and knew his wrist was badly bruised, if not fractured.
"Let~Me~Show~You." So meticulous and entrancing was this strangers voice, he almost didn't notice the healing light wash over, or the quill-tip-thin tentacle slide up beside his head. It slithered into his ear canal, and suddenly, he knew. He knew so much, he knew… everything. He felt a swelling excitement inside of his as he felt a metaphorical hand begin guiding him past all of the knowledge that has ever been recorded, to a place he recognized. A place from only moments ago.
He could see sharp reds and oranges and yellows sprouting from his fingertips that extended in front of him. Around the point he felt the strange weariness cross over him, he was noticed the flames that rushed out from him begin to swirl around behind him instead. They twisted and whirled around his struggling, cloaked form. He began to understand. The large burst of heat from before was a massive, whirling-
"Firestorm?...How did I… what?" He mumbled. Or rather, tried to mumble, for it actually only came as a thought in this alternate state of being.
"Yessssss." He heard the hissing keen of the person… Thing that led him to here, to this moment of time. In the breadth of a thought, he felt himself back in his body, this time taking note of the slimy digit slowly creeping out of his head. The soft, deliberate exit made him shiver. Where there was once infinite knowledge was now all of his usual thoughts instead, left untouched. Now he felt shockingly empty.
"What was that? And who are you?" He began to rise to his feet, noting that there was no pain in his body as he did so.
The cloaked stranger almost seemed to glide towards him. "You ask me who I am? There is an infinity of knowledge to be gained, and you inquire my name… You mortals, all so strange." With that, the hood flew back, untouched. Beneath it was a man's thin face. Semeht couldnt tell whether the man was old or young, could only see the pale green of his eyes, and the stark black of his shoulder-length hair.
This is when the young man realized that this thing in front of him was tall. So very tall; easily 8 feet tall. The man-looking thing domineered over him, and he lost his thoughts in a gross haze. His brains felt like mush, like mud.
"I am Hermaeus Mora- and i know you… I ought to say, I know of you, Small Shadow. The man you traveled with before, the Dragonborn , and myself have developed a very… tenuous relationship concerning some of my most powerful artifacts. He isn't my issue anymore though, his quest is long and beyond even me." All the while, as Mora spoke, Semeht felt his mind clear.
"Hermaeus Mora, Daedric Prince of Forbidden Knowledge, and the Dragonborn?" He thought that this must be some sort of fever dream, his last thoughts before he froze to death alone on a mountain south of Winterhold, to be food for the frost trolls that resided there.
"Indeed. I have been searching too long for… a fitting receptacle." Here the Daedra finally glanced down at the young Dunmer, barely past his teenage years. A chill ran down his blackened spine at those calm green eyes. "For millenia, Mortals have done so many things, loathe as i am to admit it. I can learn all, and see all… But… so much. There is so much to sift through." Hermaeus gestured around him, to limitless papers, stacks of information stretching beyond even the keen Dunmer's sight.
The demi-god continued, "You have shown an innate wisdom, a power beyond your years, and you have so much room to be filled. I want to fill it." The deep tone of the dark prince shook the mageling to his core.
"H-how would you go about doing t-that?" He stammered.
"I first have to assure some things." For a moment Mora simply stood there, before Semeht's questioning look prompted him. "First, you have to be willing to do exactly as you must to complete the ritual, and must accept responsibility to protect the knowledge of all of mortal-kind." Semeht nodded his agreement after considering the significance of the request. The prince chuckled his murky bubbling chuckle. Semeht shook again.
"How does it take place?" Eagerly, and determined, he stood, if a litte unsteady. Mora also stood, still and silent, before finally sighing. The long sigh took a turn to become a chuckle once more, and the mage looked at Mora with a steadfast resolve. Unshaken, apparently.
Mora laughed more fully then, and there came a flurry of wind that blew the pages of nearby books. Each step he took towards his new receptacle felt like a biting slap to the boy's torso. Semeht's clothes were being torn to rags that lay across his thin shoulders but he held his ground, staring into those glaring eyes. His breaths came full and gasping despite the dervish that threatened to suck them right from his lungs.
When it was finished, Mora wordlessly stepped towards him. He felt a marble smooth, pillow soft hand stroke his cheek then, and the touch left a residue on his cheek. A sticky wetness that he didnt dare wipe away.
It continued this way for awhile. Mora seemingly intending to cover his naked form from head to toe. The places he was touched became covered in the stuff, whatever it was. It quickly dried, or soaked in; the young Dunmer couldn't quite tell which in the cacophony of his mind.
Hermaeus Mora had eventually touched him everywhere, not being shy when he reached his most private areas. Those too were slathered equally to everywhere else, his whole body absorbing whatever the Daedric Prince had to give him. He somehow found the presence of mind not to jump when Mora reached under him, between his legs, and stroked gently against his ass to coat him there too.
When it was over, Semeht looked down at his fully exposed body. It shimmered mystically, coal black skin glittering in the low torchlight.
"To begin, you must take into you my essence. This is but a start." Mora stepped around to stand in front of this Small Shadow. For a short time, they stared at each other. The Dunmer, breathless. The Daedra, unbreathing.
Mora leaned foreward, making contact with Semeht's lips. Semeht grunted, surprised, but couldn't find the mental strength to pull away. More surprised was he that he found the mental strength to even continue standing, even while Hermaeus Mora invaded his oral cavity with his long, round tongue. He coated the inside of his mouth, and some of his throat with the residue.
There was no taste, only sensation, he noticed.
He also noticed that he was- embarrassingly- fully erect. He thought he must've lost his self control in all of the experiences and sensations assaulting him all at once. Their faces parted, and he glanced at the towering form of Mora, that previous reasoning seemed a pitiful defense of the reality. This creature, divine and secular in one being, this is what excited him.
Mora cruelly laughed at his flustered pupil's flush face. Still, Semeht did not look away. He took the laughter as deserved critique for his lack of self control.
"It seems you are far too eager to begin." The prince admonished, "Am I too comely for you to control yourself?" Semeht shook his head, but could also not take his eyes off of the perfectly framed face of Mora.
Hermaeus sneered at the boy. "How foolish. This is not the form I truly take, it is but a convenient garb. Im sure you're aware of my usual visage." In Semeht's mind, he could see it superimposed over the tall man, the angry sickly green eye of Hermaeus Mora. Uncensored from his mortal vision, to truly sense the horrible power and unspeakable knowledge within. His blood rushed into his cheeks.
Again that cruel laugh. Again he stood unashamed.
"Now, chosen receptacle of Hermaeus Mora, Daedric Prince of Forbidden Knowledge. Your conversion can begin." From under his cloak came a writhing mass of slimy black tentacles. They wriggled and shivered randomly, without any sensable pattern except forward. Towards the unshaken Dunmer.
He expected them to envelope him, possibly consume him and make him a part of Hermaeus' domain. He didnt expect one to wrap around his waist, or for another four to grasp his wrists and ankles tightly. One even coiled around his shock of medium length white hair, tugging insistently. Only then did he cry out. In shock or in pleasure he wasn't sure.
Struggling against the tentacle that clutched at his hair, he bent his neck to look again upon his newest god. His cloak was gone too, the tall being's skin a chalky grey, with black veins- no- black tentacles bulging underneath.
"You mortals possess no more powerful a ritual than intercourse. It facilitates love, life, and passion in a way no gift, spell or speech ever could, and you could never survive any more a divine rite. Even given that, dear student, this will assuredly hurt. Trust me though, I will try to be as kind as possible."
A quizzical look passed over Semeht's face. Perhaps he had misheard Hermaeus. No, he heard him right, but committed to his resolution, he stood fast. Although… Something about those last words made the Dunmer's head spin.
Semeht could just barely see the tentacles as they wrapped themselves delectably around Mora's strong and yet too thin hips from behind and formed into… oh sweet divines.
It was massive. It wriggled and writhed, flexing subtly, it looked unerring.
"I-I didn't know this is what you meant when you said…" his eyes strayed away from the black tentacle-made behemoth that crept closer to him, to his masters eyes. He saw the genuine intentions there, and trusted in him. Shivering, he closed his eyes, bracing himself.
He was shocked to feel a warmth engulf his hardened member. Open wide with surprise, his eyes drifted down to see Hermaeus Mora, the Daedric Prince of Forbidden Knowledge with his lips wrapped around his dark manhood. The tentacles gripping him went mad then. The one in his hair working around on his head, tugging soflty and then more frantically, lapping at his neck then squeezing it more solidly.
The sensations on his arms and legs as his black limbs were being tugged up and down to make his hips meet the face of Hermaeus felt so pleasing, stretching them right to their limits each time. He gasped and groaned, unable to contain the lewd noises coming from himself.
"O-oh by the divines!" With his outburst came a hard, whip-like appendage screaming across his ass, likely scolding him for his choice of words. This smack made him tear up, but only increased the building feeling inside of him as he was swallowed down.
Mora himself made only throaty grunts as the Dunmer's cock impacted the back of his throat, sliding down it slightly despite his oversized nature. When the young mage seemed at the edge, he lifted himself away from him, drawing an anguished cry. Semeht squirmed and tears rolled down his face.
"N-no, i was… so close!" He panted out. The sudden absence of his master nearly broke him, but it wouldn't last.
Mora stood fully, and pulled his students legs apart, up, back, and finally down, so that his knees were parrallel to his eyes.
"Ngh! Ma-Master," he gasped past the sudden rush of fear, eagerness overtaking it. He felt the surprisingly warm, tapered tip of his master's cock press against his ass, curling up and down, soaking it in a slick liquid. He distantly thought of the oils he used in many of his small contructs to lubricate their cogs, and thought this a fitting comparison.
The tip of the Prince's tentacle cock pushed inwards. Being so easy to take at the beginning given the tapering nature, Semeht wondered if this truly would hurt. His thoughts flew away, mind emptying as his ass filled, except for the thought that maybe he bit off more than he could chew.
This couldn't be a truer litany.
As he felt himself stretching from the forceful entry of Hermaeus, another prodding began. This time, the tentacle that was wrapped around his neck didn't poke at his supple flesh where his pulse pounded, but at his lips. For a moment, he clamped his jaw, until Mora pulled away, and pushed back in more deeply than the first time. When he cried out in tortured bliss, the slithering thing rushed ahead into his mouth, and down his throat, before receding and going in again, leaving only a brief respite to gasp in air and choke out desperate mews.
"I can sense your discomfort. I will take no pleasure in harming you, my dearest student, but the process must please me as much as it will please you- and it will please you- in time." Mora grinned with a slight upturning of his thin lips, still puffy from his earlier prince pushed himself fully into his student, eliciting a drawn out garbled screech past the appendage fucking his face.
In Semeht's mind, this had started as a means to an end. An unexpected ritual to bring him closer to his new master. It seemed to himself that this was no longer the case.
"Ah-hhhh! M-Mora! More, Please!" The tentacle pulled free from his lips and he spat the words salaciously at the Prince. This seemed to drive the inhuman thing into a frenzy, and his hips bucked with an increasing tempo.
Semeht felt a strange sensation. Though Mora's hips had already been planting firmly against his ass, he felt like the stretching began anew. At first, he thought the Lord of the Unknowable to be only growing larger from excitement, becoming further engorged perhaps. For every pumping of Mora's body against his, he felt himself being stretched deeper, and wider than the one before.
"What-is-happ-en-ing?!" He stuttered past the impacts from the immortal. If he would look down, he would see the coiling tentacle leaving a sizeable bulge in his abdomen as it penetrated further and further into him. He didnt have to look down to know that whatever it was, he loved it.
Apparently, Mora loved it too, for just as Semeht's eyes began rolling into the back of his head, a look crossed his face. Mora felt the completion of the ritual was coming.
"We have to finish together, the binding pact demands it of us." Despite his calm tone, Hermaeus Mora looked as human as he ever had before. His brow furrowed in exertion, lips curled in a delighted pleasure. Semeht thought he could even see a sweat break on his forehead.
Could Daedra even sweat?
Any pretense of fathoming the question ended as a looping tentacle coiled around his member, and began rubbing against him voraciously.
He felt the bindings loosen on his legs, and he thrusted along with the assisting tentacle, and his master in front of him.
Mora outwardly adored the cooperation, cooing that adoration and finally settling his hands on the young adult's hips- for the first time- to guide his frantic and desperate pace.
"I am close to finishing, young one. I can bring you there with me if I must." At this, the tentacle dipped shallowly into Semeht's tip, and circled it's entirety with precise ferocity.
Semeht's eyes bulged from his sockets, a whole new head-spinning pleasure driving his gyrations.
Mora knew the mortal would cum soon, and worked his tentacle even deeper, and deeper still into him. He could see it, fully snaking through the insides of the Dunmer, well into the stomach by now. The thought of having ravaged this mortal so fully finally pushed him, and he finally gasped with a visceral, mortal passion.
As he released into his Small Shadow, he watched the rough spurting come from the young pupil, around the tip of the out-of-place membranous appendage.
Semeht felt his stomach fill, could feel it rush out of his mouth in a small rivulet before Mora made more room for his insides, retracting from him.
Semeht, winded, was slowly lowered to the floor, where there had been awaiting him a soft pallet of furs to rest upon. Mora looked down at the thoroughly internally pleasured mortal, and reveled in the sight. It nearly took him a moment to remember why they had begun in the first place.
He rushed over to the now sleeping Dunmer, and chanted a soft, ancient chant. As the tempo of the chant increased, and the volume of it grew in similar measure, a greenish grey fog surrounded Small Shadow. When the fog abated, the now immortalized Dunmer looked around, confused.
He could feel the difference already! Mora noticed the perturbed look, and answered it with a simple nod. "Small Shadow, or as i can call you now, Shadowkeeper, protector of mortal-kind's vast knowledge. As your master, I Hermaeus Mora, Daedric Prince of the Domain of Forbidden Knowledge, will instill upon you this grand responsibility. Do you accept?"
His speech, falsley impassioned and grandeur, was only fit to make Shadowkeeper laugh. Already his mind swelled with all of the mortal knowledge, and through it all he found himself comforted. If this was his duty now, there's no way he could say no.