Stephanie lay sprawled out on her bed, happy to be back in Whiterun while the four, five with Lydia, relaxed between slaughter.
Which was their own far too often for Steph's comfort. A book lay open on her pillow, as she pursued transmutation.
Lydia, Kitt, and Beliel were at the Drunken Huntsman, and Jack had been missing for a few days. Steph wasn't worried; he'd told Beliel he was mining iron ore. She hoped she'd be able to wheedle some from him, she'd learnt to turn iron to silver, and silver to gold. But for some reason it only worked with ore.
She stretched, pausing as she heard the door open.
"Kitt?" she called, but got no reply.
"...Lydia?" she called cautiously as footsteps came up the stairs, knowing full well the tread was far too heavy to be the lithe, light form of her Housecarl.
She swung her legs over the side of her bed, turning her back to the loft steps for just a second...but a second was all it took. She was pulled harshly against a heavily armoured chest, her small frame only just reaching the bottom of it. A gauntlet encased hand pushed a strange smelling cloth against her mouth and nose as she gasped in surprise. Almost immediately she became limp against the enormous man.
Steph whimpered, slowly regaining consciousness, but not her sight. She panicked, before realising a leather blindfold had been secured around her head and over her eyes. She felt cold metal underneath her and wriggled, stopping as she became aware she was not only naked...but secured to a spanking horse. Her wrists and ankles were snug in leather cuffs, attached to the legs of the horse by D-rings on her cuffs. There was a belt buckled around her waist, and judging by the fact she couldn't move her tail from the raised position it was in, had an attachment to keep it raised. There was an oval shaped gag in her mouth, spreading her lips over it lewdly.
She was, at the least, able to move her head around. It occurred to her that being unable to see and speak, this was utterly useless. She tensed as she heard the heavy tread approaching from behind her. There was a faint tap on her inside thigh-was that...a riding crop? Steph couldn't help the blush that spread across her face as she moaned around the gag, she'd had it used on her in...Happier times, and had rather fond memories of it.
Which disappeared as it struck cruelly across the back of her thighs, her captor aiming for punishment rather than pleasure. She cried out in pain, attempting to pull forward away from the hard strikes that lashed her form the top of her buttocks to the bottom of her knees, her blindfold quickly soaked by tears of pain, and shame. Her face wasn't the only part of her that had become wet.
She heard an eerily familiar chuckle, and knew he'd noticed the liquid flowing down her thighs and pooling onto the metal contraption beneath her prone form. She was completely exposed to him, and could do and move nothing at all. Her tail was not only restrained but pulled into the tradition come-on position of being in heat. She was exposed like a bitch in heat. And she was loving it.
A hand gently caressed her abused rear, the cold metal soothing the burning. She whimpered, pressing her ass into his palm, and was rewarded with a fast, harsh strike on the reddest area. She let out a muffled shriek, starting to cry again. The hand went back to running over her, purposely avoiding soothing the area he'd struck.
She sobbed, slowly realising how this was to work. She couldn't refuse, and apparently she wasn't allowed to move without permission either. She gasped, forcing herself to remain motionless as fingers rubbed at her wet pussy lips. It was hard, the metal was damn cold, she thought, wondering why he wouldn't at least remove them for this.
She couldn't help the long moan that escaped her throat as he gently rubbed her clit, her body shaking as she became fully aroused, knowing it wouldn't be long before she came. Pain throbbed and burned up and down her thighs and ass as she tensed and relaxed at the pleasure rushing through her. Even in the degrading situations she'd found herself in in her quest for Skooma, she'd never been used quite like this. It was...erotic. Thrilling. Exciting. Degrading...in the best possible way.
Her excitement coated his fingers and palm, and he'd never even entered her yet. He slowly pushed a large, metal covered finger into her tight cavity, her body tensing hard around it as she sobbed in pleasure, so close, so close...but not quite. He left it there, curious to see how long it took for her to move, or simply come on his motionless finger. Her head was resting on the horse, body quivering needy. It took a while for her to cave, but as her body clenched his finger rubbed directly against her gspot. The movement was involuntarily made but her captor either didn't care or didn't know. He removed his digit before she had the chance to come, she began to weep, sensing that this punishment would pale next to the first in both brute force and agony.
She became more and more terrified as he released her from her bonds, leaving the cuffs attached as she was pulled into a sitting position. He pushed her arms so she raised them above her head, wrists crossed against...a chain? He looped it through both the Drings, and up again, pulling her up so she was only just sitting on the horse.
She had a bare second for her heart to sink as a whip cracked against the floor behind her, then struck hard from her shoulder to her opposite hip, laying open her back to the muscle. The pain was far too intense, her throat locked against her wail of agony, able to do nothing but give a small, gentle mewl from behind the oval gag.
He struck again and again, as she screamed in torment, blood flowing down her back, onto the horse and pooled on the floor. He didn't stop until her yowls had become helpless mewls.
She was slumped against her bonds, inadvertently pushing her backside out towards him. Her top was covered in deep, raw lashes and her end was plastered with thick, angry welts. There was a pause in her torture as he walked, slowly, in no hurry, to a place directly in front of her. She was too drained and in agonizing pain to care as his hand rubbed against her soaking mound.
He removed his hand, and there was a jerk as he allowed her to lower slightly, listening to her whimper as her abused back was pulled into another position. She found the strength to cry when she heard metal strike a wooden floor, and knew he'd removed his codpiece, releasing his impressive erection, although the half Khajiit could still see nothing.
He flicked at the back of her head, and the gag fell to the floor.
"Why...Why are doing this to me?" She sobbed, "What...what did i do? Please, please stop...I-I can give you whatever you want! Just, for the love of the Nine, just stop!"
His hand struck cruelly across her tear soaked cheek, and he seized a hand full of braided pink hair, stuffing his cock past her lips and down her throat as she gagged and choked helplessly, fresh tears sliding into her whiskers and fur.
He continued for some time, Stephanie certain she would either pass out or throw up, both earning her a punishment, when he stopped abruptly and pulled himself out of her mouth. She took deep, grateful gulps of air. She twitched as a cold, metal finger tapped her furred cheek. She thought for a second, wondering what he wanted. She was beginning to understand how he wanted this to work, and felt she knew what he was after.
"Thank you for showing mercy," she whispered, cringing as she was sure she'd done it wrong and was going to be struck once more. He did strike her, but it was more of a gentle pat than a punishing blow. She tilted her head up at him, she'd done it right then...but...oh! did he want her to refer to him as something? How did he expect her to know?
He patted her between the ears gently, and she relaxed. The message was clear. Go against me, and suffer. Obey, and be rewarded. She was surprised when he pressed a gentle, almost chaste kiss to her lips. She felt...stubble? Well, thank Nocturne it wasn't Byrnjolf. She thought, she didn't think she'd be able to handle that.
'Wait...what am i doing? I could burn him within seconds!' she thought angrily. She flexed her hand, readying her spell, when agonising pain shot through her entire frame, all pain up till this moment suddenly, laughably unimportant. She writhed against her bonds as she screamed helplessly, begging for it to stop.
Finally it subsided, and she realised that either her bonds or a relic in the room not only prevented her from performing magic, but punished her for doing so. Her much abused body trembled, hoping that he would be satisfied with whatever it was that had been used against her.
His footsteps echoed as he stepped around behind her, pulling her against him by her hips, his swollen member rubbing against her sore backside and her arms still crossed above her. He let her go for a moment to fasten her legs to the rear legs of the spanking horse, and held her hips for a moment. It took a minute for Stephanie to realise he was admiring his handiwork before...before he...She clamped her mouth tightly shut, wanting to play along, not sure how much more she could take before she broke down fully.
He pressed the head of his cock against her wet entrance, eliciting a moan from her as she struggled to keep her body motionless against his enormous, armour clad form. She panted, knowing not to move and refusing to beg for her own rape. She knew what this was, but not why or even who. Not sure she actually wanted to know, having caught a glimpse of what appeared to be deadric armour-so at the very least, her tormenter was either very powerful, very rich or very influential.
Either way she was fucked.
He slapped her ass, causing her to cry out in ecstasy. Apparently, he did want her to beg. She sobbed, shaking her head. He'd taken her freedom and body, he wouldn't have her pride when he was taking from her by force what she'd always believed should be given willingly.
She gritted her fangs, he would not have the satisfaction this day or any other! Finally, either bored or unable to hold off any longer, he jerked her hips up and slid his meaty sword into her wet, tight sheath. He let out a breathy, satisfied sound as she screamed in pain, forced to take a large amount of his manhood, her small figure shaking as the sudden entrance caused her to tense, feeling each and every strike he'd made on her vulnerable body.
He seized her by the hair once more, hips pressed up against hers as he slowly pushed the second half of himself into her, allowing her to feel each and every inch stretching her wide and deep. His other hand rested on her hip, holding her steady as he violated her. She took a deep, if shaky, breath and steeled herself for his assault-which was nothing like what she expected.
He pulled back, and thrust back in, moving slowly and gently inside of her, careful not to press up too hard on her welts. She moaned in pleasure, unable to help it as he hit her gspot directly and firmly. She frowned at the familiar chuckle from behind her as he moved his hand from her hair to her other hip, getting a firm grip on her as he set his pace, Stephanie gasping and moaning as she neared her climax.
He gripped her hips gently but firmly as she nearly tipped over the edge, forcing her to stay still as he was bare millimetres from her sweet spot. She whimpered, not wanting to beg, but so in need of release...his new gentleness compared to his previous brutishness causing her to lick her lips, her need overpowering her pride.
She'd whispered, and earned a spank on her left butt cheek, implying she needed to speak up. She whimpered and spoke again.
"Please...please, let me...let me cum," she begged, shamed and feeling like a slut, not just begging but begging on his cock as she hung from the ceiling.
Her sobs shook her, tears flowing as she cried helplessly, forced to be a pervert's abused toy. She gasped as a gentle hand turned her head and lips were pressed against hers, silencing her sobs and stopping her tears. She whimpered, pressing against him, needing this small amount of comfort from him.
She was sure she knew who this was now-and while his reaction was extreme, it explained his lack of one earlier. A week ago he'd caught her doing...something, for a bottle of Skooma, and she'd admitted she did it often. His eyes had gone unfocused, and he'd simply walked away. Now she knew what he'd been up to.
The tears started to flow again. She knew what he was doing too.
He was treating her like the whore she'd become.
She sobbed, if he was punishing her, why was he now being gentle with her? His lips dragged softly against her neck, crying out and tightening around his manhood as he bit down on a sensitive area.
"Please," she begged again, her tiny frame flush against his large one, she could feel every ripple of muscle as he fought the urge give her what she begged for. She didn't know what else it was he wanted from her.
" 'please, Daddy'" he growled in her ear, his tightening fingers on her waist betraying his impatience with her. She became limp in his hands and against her bonds. It was him, and now she knew she was helpless, and completely at his mercy until he chose otherwise.
"P-please Daddy," she sobbed, begging him to take her.
Begging Jack.
He complied, pulling her hips to his, his thrusting causing her to tremble and tighten as her cries became louder and more often, as she finally orgasmed, screaming her completion-he continued to thrust, using her contracting walls as she came once more, screaming for Daddy to fuck her harder. He released his seed inside of her cavity, as she reached her third orgasm, spasming hard and crying in pleasurable pain.
She slumped, now unconscious, supported only by her bonds and his body. He held her against him gently as he removed her cuffs and left them hanging from the chain. He placed her down gently on the horse, removing the cuffs on her ankles and leaving them attached to it. He picked her up gently as he could, careful not to hurt her as her carried her to, and placed her on, a pile of furs acting as a makeshift bed.
Soft deer's hide had been placed on top, Jack certain she was going to fight more, and had prepared for her body to be abused more than it now was. He lay out next to her, still in his Daedric armour as she slumbered fitfully.
He stared at the roof of the mine, disgusted with himself. Even if it had seemed like a good idea at the time, why on earth had he gone through with it?
But he knew why.
What he'd done to her in those few hours was what she was doing, and allowing to be done to her in the years since she'd started.
He had no idea how to explain to the strangely naive young thief why he'd done that to her, or why he chosen to couple with her. If he couldn't explain it satisfactory to himself, how could he ever hope to with her?
It could've been much worse, he argued to himself, one day this was going to happen, and the man who did it would not be half as forgiving as he had been.