(A/N) Lol. I couldn't resist. Longer than last one but with more sex. This one was written more for the "domme/sub" crowd.
Book 3: Elisif the Fair x Elenwen
Elisif the Fair hated these meetings. Meeting with the Aldmeri Dominion under normal circumstances was bad enough, but every month or so, the Thalmor ambassador Elenwen would throw a soiree that required the attendance of every noble in Skyrim loyal to the empire, but these parties were nothing more than a reminder of Skyrim under the heel of the Altmer's boots. She was already considered a weak queen by her people. Her enemies rubbing that in her face every chance they got was frustrating.
The Jarl of Solitude considered herself a true daughter of Skyrim and quietly worshipped Talos despite the ban, much to her council's dismay and Ulfric's cocky ego should he ever find out. Just like her late husband Torygg, she would have gladly fought the Aldmeri Dominion. However, two things were stopping her: first of all, she wanted to be a good queen to her people, and inexperienced as she was, she wasn't so clueless to think fighting a much more powerful enemy without the empire's help would have been a good idea. Second, her husband admired Ulfric. He idolized the man and shared many of the elder's ideals and morals, and would have readily waged war had he been asked. Turns out Ulfric was a power hungry madman and killed his friend just to prove he could. Ulfric didn't care about Skyrim. He only cared about his own ego, his never-ending power trip, and Elisif didn't want to give him the satisfaction of saying she agreed with him. Immature, she knew, but she didn't care.
At least her family and friends were having fun. In their own words, the Thalmor Embassy was stuffy and supremacist, but they knew how to please Sanguine. She smiled lightly, but still tense, as she saw a drunk Falk Firebeard cackle and pull her own thane into his lap who giggled with him, an imperial mage named Kira Sparks, none other than the Dragonborn herself but named after the spell she loved to use. Kira was loyal to the empire but shared Elisif's thoughts on the Dominion, planning for the long game when they would overthrow them. It wasn't any secret the "Great War" was only the "FIRST Great War."
Elisif cringed at Falk's hands wandering on Kira's legs which she playfully slapped away. Choosing to ignore them, Elisif stepped through the crowd, grabbed a second goblet of wine, and mingled with the crowd. For a second, she was mildly entertained when she saw Balgruuf arm wrestling her other thane, Erikur, but during the distraction, she noticed something a bit curious as she saw a giant nord, a man with long red hair, follow the Bosmer barkeep into the back room. Normally, she wouldn't have thought anything of it, but she recognized this man. He was the Thane of Whiterun, known for foolish heroics and causing trouble, Raghnell Battle-Born. If Elisif hadn't been standing in the corner she was, facing the back room with just the right break in the crowd, she wouldn't have seen him, but she chose to ignore it. She smiled evilly. If he was here, then trouble would follow. Trouble she would welcome.
Later in the night, the party picked up, the musicians playing harder and louder, the dancing becoming more frequent and uncaring, and even Elenwen seemed to be enjoying herself. She thought the nords were beneath her, but this party of hers was closer to a nord feast than an elven soiree. After a third drink, Elisif felt her mind slipping a bit. She considered going out on the dance floor herself, but she had two left feet and was bound to cause an international incident between the two nations. Fortunately, none other than the ambassador herself came up to her and pulled her away to a quiet, private corner.
"Hello, my Fair Elisif! I hope you are having a fun evening!" Elenwen said, looping her arm around the Jarl's, leaning in a bit too close. Elisif winced at the alcohol on her breath. She wasn't drunk, but one more drink and she definitely would be.
"Yes, it is quite the event Madame Ambassador," Elisif praised, twisting uncomfortably when Elenwen licked her lips at the mention of her title, "You are a true master of entertainment, and a fine hostess."
"Oh, please, my friend. You don't have to be so formal with me tonight," the high elf chided, waving away the politeness dismissively and stepping a bit closer to the Jarl, directly facing her, "You can just call me Elenwen tonight, or Madame. Feel free to speak to me as you would a friend, or a lover."
Elisif blinked, stunned into silence. The Ambassador was being incredibly forward with this conversation, removing all tact and subtlety, and not respecting the personal space of others. She made a mental note to restrict the diplomat's alcohol consumption next time she was the Blue Palace. While the Altmer towered over her, Elisif quietly sipped her drink, her last one for the night, and tried to sneak by with a quiet "excuse me," but the taller woman dominantly halted Elisif's escape. The blonde wasn't aware that she had been pressed against the wall. Elenwen was a master of conversational manipulation, and the Jarl fell for it like an amateur. The Ambassador was clearly up to something. She placed her hands on other side of her guest's head against the wall and pushed her back a bit further, pressing her against the structure. The high elf leaned in a bit too closely. It was like she was… Elisif squeaked when Elenwen got too close like she was going in for a kiss. Did she really swing that way?
"I think you should come with me…" Elenwen whispered in Elisif's ear, breathing against her skin sensually, changing direction at the very last minute. Without waiting for her victim to follow, the Thalmor turned and walked down a door a justicar held open for her, but when she felt that Elisif wasn't behind her, she turned around and glared at the younger woman over her shoulder.
Falk had warned her about this. When learning how to be a monarch, Elisif had learned pretty quickly that being a moderately attractive woman, other political leaders would proposition her, and she would have to find some way to either talk her way out of it, or give in and use her body to get what she wanted. Elisif had resolved never to do this. Her heart, mind, and body only belonged to her late husband Torygg, and she hadn't planned on breaking her vow. However, maybe she was wrong? Maybe she mistook the vulgar proximity for something more than it was, and she just wanted to discuss politics behind closed doors? Her heart pounding in her chest, Elisif followed. She managed to convince herself that Elenwen's professional nature would hold true, but why did she feel that tingle in between her legs?
Elisif was led down the hall, down a rather discretely hidden flight of stairs, and into a door at the end of the next hallway at the bottom. Nervously, Elisif looked around the room. Elenwen had stepped behind a divider in the corner, telling her guest to "enjoy herself," so the Jarl was alone for now, feeling her stomach twist nervously at one she saw. There was a wooden X at one end of the room, shackles on the upper arms. In a small alcove, she saw a short table with four shackles on them that looked too big for a child, but too small for a wood elf. Hanging up on a coat rack on the wall were dozens of strips of leather, leashes, and whips. There were even a few silk straps and handcuffs, some having fuzzy bindings, and lubricated mammoth and horker tusks in a chest underneath, each of them a different size, but all of them about the approximate size of a man's… Elisif knew what this place was when she saw the soft bed in the last corner. The Jarl of Winterhold once bragged to her husband about having one of these.
Sex dungeon. This was a sex dungeon.
Elisif started to run out of the room, towards the door, and try to discreetly get back to the party upstairs, hoping her presence wouldn't have been missed, but Elenwen's voice in the back of the room stopped her.
"Just where do you think you're going?" she asked angrily.
Elisif turned around slowly, fear rising in her throat, but when she saw what the Ambassador had prepared for her, that fear dropped down to her stomach and further below in a confusing emotion that scared her even worse. The Ambassador, a beautiful woman with a stiff, muscely body, small but perky boobs, a comely face, her golden skin soft and glistening like it was slathered in massage oil, stood at one end of the room with a curled lip, her hands on her hips. She was standing almost entirely naked, but given the few bits of cloth she wore, Elisif might have prefered full nudity. The black stockings and stiletto heels imported from Hammerfell, famous for its harems of concubines and brothels, the lacey black thong imported from Valenwood, known for its oddly vulgar clothing, made her seem more erotic than if she weren't wearing anything. If that hadn't been enough, in her right hand was a riding crop used to spur horses. Intimidatingly, she slinked over to where Elisif was stood frozen in place. She slapped the riding crop in her other hand as if she intended to use it on Elisif to punish her, but strangely enough, this made the confusing feeling at her core even worse, making her legs quake and twist uncomfortably, her hands balling at her sides. When Elenwen was in arm's reach of Elisif, she grabbed the smaller woman's face firmly and shook her gently.
"Don't act like you don't want this," Elenwen scolded, "I've seen the way you look at high elf women every time you enter my court, and the way you squirm in my presence, especially when I get close to you is just… just perfect. I know you make any excuse you can to talk to me. That flirty smile of yours, the longing way you look at me…"
"It's just politics," Elisif squeaked. Elenwen scoffed.
"Then, let's consider this politics as well," the Ambassador continued as her finger began to lightly run along Elisif's chest, "My presence here is the only thing keeping the Aldmeri Dominion at bay. One word from me, and my people will leave your province, and return in full military force with the empire alongside us to conquer your kingdom. I could do that, you know. But… if you decide to please me…"
Elisif panicked at the mention of a war with the Thalmor. That was the exact scenario she was trying to avoid by not siding with Ulfric and staying loyal to the empire, but there was something else going on in her mind at this scenario. Elenwen's naked breasts were pressing up against her own covered ones. Her body squirmed sensitively at the contact. The feeling in her core began to turn into an itch in her most sensitive region, and she knew she would have to satisfy it some way. It made no sense, though. She had never felt this before with human women, and Torygg was perfectly capable of satisfying her sexually. However, when Elenwen pushed Elisif on her knees and shoved her face into her crotchless panties, when Elisif got the full force of Elenwen's womanly scent and tasted the walls of her pussy, she understood.
Elf women were just better than humans. The Jarl lost herself in the taste and grabbed Elenwen's ass, pulling her harshly into her face, digging her tongue deeper and deeper. Elenwen held Elisif's hair and did the same.
"That's a good girl," she said, seemingly unaroused by Elisif's work. The Jarl found this as a challenge and moved her tongue up the high elf's clit, making her hips buckle slightly, but it was the two fingers up her hole that made the woman break. Elenwen squealed. The woman eating her out smiled victoriously at the sound, but stopped when she received two soft pats on her cheek. "Very good, slut," Elenwen praised, "Now. Why don't you give me a show? Stand up and strip for me."
Elisif giggled awkwardly. Seeing the Ambassador, the woman who woke up an entirely new side of herself that Elisif had never known about, sit on the bed next to them and spread her legs, watching Elisif with a hungry smirk as she dug her fingers into her pussy, Elisif shivered with the most pleasant tension on her clit. Elisif wanted nothing more than to rub herself out, but that seemed rude, and selfish. Instead, she quickly unlaced her robes and began pulling them off her shoulders, to which she received a harsh sting on her upper calf with the Ambassador's riding crop.
"Slower," she scolded, "I said give me a show. Let me enjoy myself." Elenwen went back to smiling lustily and fingering herself slowly, just to keep herself temporarily satisfied so she would keep her hands to herself as she watched Elisif turn and lightly drop her robes to the floor. The Jarl was taking her time now, turning, giving Elenwen full view of her body from every angle as she cutely pulled the wraps around her tits over her head, then swayed her hips and bent over as she pushed her panties down. Smiling playfully, she slapped her ass and jiggled in front of her mistress's face, making the elf's breath catch in her throat. Elisif was enjoying herself. Right now, she was in control, and she was going to enjoy it while it lasted. Using a move she often used on her husband, she straddled Elenwen's waist and lightly draped her arms around the taller woman's neck, softly kissing her at the same speed she disrobed. Elenwen wasn't complaining. She wrapped her arms around Elisif's waist and clawed at her back. Elisif moaned loudly, hoping the elves had the magic ability to soundproof this room since that noise was bound to happen pretty often. She didn't know her back was that sensitive, but then Elenwen spanked her, the sting hurting so nicely and the pleasure traveling up her spine, but Elenwen adding onto this by biting her neck had threw Elisif so hard that she didn't feel the orgasm coming until it happened.
She buried her head into Elenwen's shoulder, breathing heavily. Torygg was good, but that was the best orgasm she ever had, and from a high elf woman of all people! Elenwen laughed. It wasn't derisive or superior, but instead sounded… kind.
"Did you enjoy yourself?" she asked warmly. Elisif could only nod. "I have to admit, you were really easy to get off. I didn't enter you, or even touch your cunt… you must not have been touched in ages, you poor thing! After all of that sexual repression that's being held within you, I can't have you leaving until you are completely satisfied." Elenwen held Elisif's cheeks gingerly, almost lovingly, and gave her a slow, soft kiss on the lips. "Come with me.
The young, blonde Jarl, barely a woman, did as she was told and separated from her mistress's lap as the older and clearly more experienced woman took a pillow case from one of the many cushions and wrapped it around her wrists. It was like a leash, or a pair of handcuffs with a convenient lash to hold onto and lead her prisoner. Walking in her unusually sultry manner, most likely due to those heels bigger than Elisif's late husband's dick, Elenwen led her plaything over to the bench with the minutely spaced shackles on them as if one of the pair were about to be bound to it. Elisif didn't see how that would work, but she didn't question it. She was enjoying her imprisonment far too much to challenge her captor, lest she withhold pleasure from the "sexually repressed" Jarl. Subconsciously, Elisif knew why this pleasure was so mind breaking for her. She was always an equal lover with Torygg, switching who was on top and who was on the receiving end, but Elenwen had awakened a long dormant, primal desire in her that she had repressed in her time with her "high king." She didn't want to be loved, or even fucked. She wanted to be dominated.
Torygg wasn't a king. He was barely even a man. Elenwen could have taught him something about ruling over someone, but the woman couldn't be described as a queen. Elenwen was a goddess. A pure dominatrix, just the way Elisif wanted it.
"But…" Elisif whimpered innocently, gulping a bit and putting on an act of weakness, "Madame, it's too small." The domme looked at her toy in shock for a second before smiling with those hungry eyes again, licking her lips, and allowing her fingers to roam over her panties a bit.
"Trust me, Princess," she said simply. She had been so powerful earlier, but the way she gently brushed a strand of hair out of Elisif's face was downright caring. Giving clear instructions, the Ambassador lifted her prey onto the table on all fours, her ass high in the air like some kind of animal, and it finally sunk in how the bindings were supposed to work when she felt the steel clamp around her wrists and ankles, making her completely vulnerable to the woman's mercy.
Elenwen stepped around the table, her heels clacking on the floor at the pace of water dropping from a faucet. She was examining the prey she had caught in her trap, every morsel and hunk of meat, for the first time since she had brought the woman down to her sex dungeon, and was simply admiring the view. Her ass was plump and round, shaped like a heart thanks to her thin waist that she kept hidden under those bulky robes, but her tits were a little small for Elenwen's liking. No matter, they were still a handful. "Elisif the Fair" had definitely earned her title. She was comely of face, and innocent in mind- and innocence that had now been broken -and with her apparent age looking younger than what she was, almost girlish when one first sees her but being well into her twenties, it made her position as Jarl of Solitude seem like a mockery. Elenwen vocalized these thoughts as she stepped around her submissive, testing the waters. She told Elisif that she was but a girl filling the boots of a champion, something she could never do since she was just a slut under the Thalmor's heel. Elisif agreed wholeheartedly. She told the girl that she was better off serving as Elenwen's slave, and the Jarl pleaded for her to make it so.
Finally, satisfied with how much she was making Elisif beg to be fucked, turning the once proud noble into a dirty little whore, the Ambassador finally gave in and pulled one of the more accurately sized horker tusks that had a leather strap around it, and tied it around her waist. She climbed onto the table with Elisif, grabbed her ass and fondled it a bit. She spanked it and the young woman belted out a squeal. Before she got to work, however, Elenwen leaned down over the nord's body, pressing her bare tits against the human's back, and growled into her ear.
"I'm going to make you my bitch," she hissed, and plunged the strapon deep into Elisif's pussy.
The beautiful Jarl of Solitude didn't fight against the pleasure that just shot itself all throughout her body, but instead arched her back as best she could and howled, allowing her eyes to roll back into her skull. The way the woman ploughed her, treating her like a two septim prostitute, was Heaven. The bindings keeping Elisif in place only served to make the both women wetter, the submissive because she was helpless, and the domme because she was entirely in control. Propping one leg up to get a better hold, she grabbed Elisif's ass and spanked her multiple times before beginning to pump her hips faster. Faster. Harder! Faster! The treated ivory of the fake cock slid against the opening of Elisif's walls with such a fine friction, that her second orgasm was practically pulled out of her instead of convinced, but the scream that signalled her finish wasn't enough for Elenwen to stop. Instead, the high elf put both knees on the table and leaned over Elisif one more time. The Altmer gripped the nord's tits from her position, burying her head into Elisif's hair, and started thrusting her hips at break neck speed.
Elisif could feel the tip of the tusk hitting her cervix, bringing her closer and closer to another orgasm, but this time, when she screamed, the release of the knot in her gut dropped whatever tension had been left in her body, dropping her head to the table. She couldn't clench her walls around the strapon anymore, and Elenwen wasn't stopping. She didn't know that there was a smaller horker tusk on the other end, stuck inside Elenwen's pussy, twisting with every thrust of the larger one into the bitch's opening, but what she did know was that this pleasure was indescribable at this point. The divines should be so lucky should they ever feel what Elisif felt. She praised Dibella for making her see the face of God in Elenwen's pounding of her clam, and Sanguine for designing an act so depraved to reach that level of pleasure, her face unable to do anything other than writhe uncontrollably, inhumanly. She drooled onto the table as Elenwen just kept fucking her. She only made any other motion, shooting her head up and arching her back one more time, but barely, when Elenwen made her cum once again.
This continued for what seemed like hours. By the end, the Ambassador, Elisif's mistress, had unbound her bitch and was cuddling with her on the bed in the corner, claiming to have climaxed at least three times when she was fucking Elisif's cunt. Elisif happily bragged about the older woman doubling that for herself. The high elf lifted her head up slightly, glancing over at the younger, beautiful woman next to her, examining the gleeful way she buried her head in the crook of her neck, the wide smile, and feeling her arms wrapped around her waist, and put head back down smiling. It wasn't the first time she had done this, but this would be the first time she wouldn't wipe the person's memory afterwards.
She realized this was going to become a regular thing.