-ONYX-

"HNNNNNFFF!"

"Fnuufh nnf uf GU!"

Their protest were more or less incoherent to anyone around them; the audibility of their pleas were also decreased and from what I would surmise is that their speech impeded with something. What that something is I'm about to find out. I keep myself as low as I can as, avoiding any thing on the ground that could make noise detrimental to my progress. Boethian's gift is more than advantageous to many of my illusive endeavors; aside from the fact that the ebony armory I am wearing is black as night, the black smoke that surrounds me as a form of disguise in the shadows is more than welcome; it has made many of many of my enemies oblivious to my presence until it's too late. The bandits close to the entry way of this cave never had a chance thanks to me sneaking about like a looming shadow and good for it; I needed them dealt with as stealthy as possible for as I creep up another entry way, I finally find the source of all the muffled pleas. And with that, I find the rest of the bandits occupying Swindler's Den.

"Ffupf! FFUF! Fnuufh!"

"You're a feisty one aren't you?"

The entrance of this cave was pretty much your standard norm cave; the rather intricate décor of what nature has to offer mingling with a few vagabonds' materials like a sleeping sack, a campfire to roast a skeever, and so forth. As I got deeper into it, I am led to see that the occupants of the cave has a great room where a 'dining hall' is set up with three tables lines up together; grand on its own right as if trying to replicate Whiterun's ambiance in their own great room. Here is where the majority of the crew mingle with their mead to quench their thirst and well cooked venison chops to fill their hunger. Here is where they do what lawless men do; at this case, two women, one wood elf and the other of imperial heritage find themselves to be the main course of entertainment. Their incoherent pleas are the result of a thick cloth tied between their lips held tight by the knot tied behind their neck. Their lips strained by the bulging knot wedged behind their teeth; I would also assume that something is stuffed inside their mouths behind the cleave gag, filling their mouth to the brim.

"Mu fuhfhnuh ufnu fu fuuuhmn umfh fhn fhnuhunf ufh ffum! Hn umnn fnuhughfnuh ufh mf ufh nuhu uhnufhnuh fmngnuh un mn!"

I take note of the wood elf in her dire position as she and her fellow captive are indeed like the main course for these men. Despite her disadvantageous position, she still has some fight left in her. For now. Placed as some sort of decoration or meal on the table, her hands are forced behind her palm to palm and effectively bound with a few loops of rope. To further ensure that her hands would have an even strenuous task of struggling, more ropes are bound around shoulders, wrapped about her bosoms, pinning her arms to her upper body thus again, making escape with her hands almost impossible. While the ropes are practically the only form of clothing on her upper body, they also act as a humiliating aesthetic 'design'; their tight constriction forcing her breasts to 'form'. The orc who is taunting the poor girl is making sure that his hands find themselves happily all over her lack of modesty.

"What was that?"

The orc takes it upon himself to further elicit a rather forced reaction out of the helpless wood elf by flicking her pink nipples causing her to jolt forward and pulling on her binds. From the groan through her gag I can tell that the flinch of her wrist bindings had caused an aggravation on her also bound womanhood. A rope tied between the lips of her sex, formed at her naval and connected to her wrists; the cruel intent was for every attempt or movement, the girl is forced to feel a myriad of sensations in her sacred area. As if that wouldn't be enough of an insult, the way she is kneeling on the table with more than highlights her humiliation. Getting up would result in a rather painful tumble since her legs are crudely bound with her ankles tied to her thighs. While the bondage would indeed hinder leg movement a LOT, it does serve a purpose of giving her captors the ability to force her legs spread as she is right now; not that having both ankles tied together would make the situation any less degrading, it would probably deter SOME of the crotch rope's touch and of course keep some modesty.

"Bu Ufhuuuuh fhmf... fhmf mf numn! Ufh munffnuhf!"

Her imperial fellow captive isn't any better herself since she has the same bondage. Minus the fact that her left leg is free of the forced bent position for whatever reason. The free leg dangles on the side of the table gripped by the painful claws of the raven furred khajiit.

"You would be well if you continue, whore," From the tone of the khajiit's voice and the rhythm of his tail's wagging, it would be obvious to anyone that he is elated with the trussed up girl's predicament. The imperial captive sees it too and she turns her head away, closing her eyes tightly and mewling into her gag. "If you stop fighting then I would assume that you're better off dead."

The khajiit uses one of his claws to take the strand of hair out of her face as she is obviously quivering in her position. She has a lot less bravery than elf; the others who are sitting on the table this poor girl is forced to be on knows that she is the 'one' if they wish to do the deed without much effort.

"Ah, she still has some."

"Ffupf... pfnuufh..."

"Damn you S'enji for winning that bet! I want next!"

I pay no mind to the ramblings of this 'S'enji's' peers. I keep my eyes locked on the poor girl's peril; quivering in her inability to stop this stalker from playing with shoulder length auburn hair. Letting out pathetic whimpers through her gag, she instinctively tug on her wrist binds evoking yet another unwanted(and yet wanted) sensation in between her legs. Despite her fellow captive's much more rambunctious struggles against her bonds and her captives, regardless of the fact that the wood elf is louder against her gag, attracting a lot more cat calls and taunting from these marauders, for some reason, the other girl… the one in the khajiit's mercy, her lack of fruitless struggling and pitiful mewls are far more prominent than a fiery damsel in distress in my eyes.

Regardless, I have seen enough. It's time to make my move.

To Be Continued...