Sanguinarium

"I'll bet the Dragonborn's a Nord," I mused over a mug of ale. Typical of this world, we found an inn out in the middle of no-frickin'-where, and since a snow storm was kicking up outside, we ducked in for the warmth. Mauronk sat at a small table opposite me, already on his second pint.

We walked for hours after the little side-of-the-road business, barely talking. The storm made it difficult anyway, but up until that time, I just... couldn't. The longer I thought about what happened, the more uncomfortable I got. The whole biting thing, the punishing sex... while all fine and dandy at the time and in the heat of the moment, upon later examination was a little... freaky. I was too squeamish to bring up the subject again, so we talked about other shit that didn't matter much. It was a lot easier that way. At least for now.

Shrugging, he replied, "Could just as easily be an Orsimer."

"Hmph," I snorted. "That'd be a poke in the eye for someone, wouldn't it?" I darted a furtive look at the innkeeper. I hate to say it, but she was watching us, and totally giving me the heebie jeebies.

"Why do you say that?" he frowned, bristling a bit.

"Well... meaning no offense, but... Okay, maybe you didn't notice, but when you and I walked in here, that innkeeper gave you the stink-eye something fierce," I pointed out. "Can't wait to ask her for a single room."

"I am not sure... what 'stink-eye' is, but if you mean the look she gave me, then yes, I noticed," Mauronk said quietly. His lips curled in an even bigger snarl than usual. "I feel her eyes on my back even now."

"Almost makes me wanna give you a lap dance and boob snuggle," I muttered, glaring past his shoulder. "I swear this kind of racist crap wasn't laid out so obviously in the game."

His brow furrowed and he looked at me curiously. "What are... lap dance and... boob snuggle?"

Word of advice for all you would-be otherworld adventurers: do not make foreign statements like that then take a big gulp of beer. The innocent way he asked for a definition sent a fine spray of booze into his face, coming out my mouth and nose with explosive force. I choked for several minutes while he wiped himself down with annoyance.

"Sorry," I rasped. Cheap ale is enough of a chore going down; you seriously don't want it coming back up. "Um... I'll... show you later. Not really something you wanna do in a crowded bar. Unless there are strippers, then I guess it's okay." Glancing at him, a titter escaped. "Oh yeah. I think you count, don't you?"

"You are drunk," he observed, a half smile on his face.

Taken aback, I said, "On one drink? It takes a hell of a lot more than this, my friend." Standing up, I hailed the pissy bitch in the slut dress. Oh yeah, she was wearing one like mine, except the skirt was the color of dried blood. She probably looked better in it, too.

"Yes, ma'am?" she said stiffly as she approached, and I gestured toward the bar.

"Bring me a couple more of those toilet-water beers of yours," I replied loftily. "He thinks I'm drunk. I'm going to prove him wrong."

"Danni, are you all right?" Mauronk ventured cautiously, and I waved him down.

"You just sit there and look cute as hell," I told him, patting his shoulder. Eying the snarky barmaid, I said, "Shoo! Get the beer! Off you go!"

She scampered off like a panicked skeever and I thudded down on my chair. There was a tiny voice in the back of my mind telling me that something wasn't right, but I could barely hear it. The room was a little blurry, but the wind was harsh out there, and my eyes were likely just tearing up.

Bitch came back with a tray, and I took the two brimming mugs off it. Slamming one down on the table and sending a frothy wave over the sides, I began gulping down the other.

"I'll show you drunk," I muttered between swallows. "Think I'm drunk, do you? I don't think so."

"Danni," Mauronk repeated, and this time reached for the mug in my hand. "Stop. You are not yourself."

"Mauronk," I warned, "if you don't back off, I'll go down on you right where you sit. Don't push me."

Confused, he retreated, and I took another long drink. Damn, he was looking so good... Was it hot in here, or just me? Setting the mug aside, I fanned myself with a napkin. Yeah, definitely getting hotter. All over. Heat in my face, my chest... between my legs... wanting relief... needing it...

Rising from my chair, I circled the table to stand in front of Mauronk. My body was quivering all over, like a taut bowstring. If I didn't get my hands on him soon... Without a word, I shoved the table back and straddled his lap, cleaving up against his chest. My arms encircled his neck and I kissed him hard. I felt his hands on my waist, but he didn't embrace me in return.

"Get it up, Mauronk," I breathed against his mouth as I humped his lap desperately. "Give it to me now. God dammit, give it to me. Fuck me. Please," I whimpered urgently. It didn't matter that there were layers of woolens, leather, and steel between us - apparently didn't bother me that the bar had several other people in it as well - I knew what he had goin' on, and it was all mine.

"Danni," he groaned, "stop. Stop." His protests were feeble, though. He didn't push me off or anything; he just sat there and took it. But he didn't give it. I wanted him to give it. If he didn't, I'd take it.

I was thoroughly shocked to find myself yanked off his lap and dragged across the room. The pissy bitch was smirking as she nodded to one of the people who held me. I swear, all I could think about was Mauronk's dick and how badly I needed to ride it. I barely registered that he'd vaulted out of his chair and pulled his sword. He was coming for me... god, yes, come on... pull your other sword out...

"Let her go!" he roared, and I struggled to spread my legs for him without falling on the floor in the process. On the other hand, he could have me on the floor if he wanted. He could have me anywhere, any way he wanted.

"A worthy pair," the bitch sneered. "Subdue him. He will serve. She will make a fine vessel."

A few others grabbed Mauronk's arms and started beating him over the head with cudgels, trying to take him down. He fought viciously, sending more desperate ripples of longing through me. God dammit, he was hot when he got his temper up! Hold him still and bring me to him, if you don't want him coming to me. Shit, I don't care.

One of the guys holding me let go of my arm; a thrill ran through me as I took advantage of the freedom to start unbuckling my leathers. If I could just get this shit off...

"Most... impressive," the bitch hissed. "She truly lusts for this beast." Smirking, she added, "Her desires will be most... entertaining to fulfill." Gesturing to one of my holders, she turned and headed for one of the inn's rooms. The guy next to me pulled out a short blunt object like the handle of a mace. Is that a dildo? Oh god, tell me that's a dildo. If you won't let me have Mauronk, give me one of those.

I dimly saw his arm raise out of the corner of my eye, because my focus shifted back to Mauronk and I wondered how I could possibly fuck him if he was unconscious. There had to be a way... I felt a sudden sharp pain, then everything went dark.

I woke ages later, or maybe hours. It was hard to tell. My head ached so much I couldn't think about anything else for awhile. Not even the throbbing 'do me' going on in my crotch area. I felt hung over, but not especially nauseous. Which was probably why I still wanted a good pounding.

Shaking my head, I gasped for breath like I'd been drowning. I snuck a quick peek and saw wood beamed ceiling. My vision was still a bit bleary, but at least my mind was enough my own that I could take stock. Unfortunately, I could also remember. Horrified, I squeezed my eyes shut again.

What the fuck happened? Did someone slip me Spanish Fly or something? Christ... I've never acted like that. Not in private, and certainly not in a public place. Could I possibly be more humiliated? The worst part was that I had apparently full command of my faculties now, but I still wanted the kind of fucking that lands you in the hospital, and not nine months after the fact. More of an immediate visit for resuscitation purposes. What did that bitch do to me?

I dreaded opening my eyes, like keeping them closed would ensure I was safely in the Bannered Mare with a slightly sweaty Mauronk in my bed. While I could feel... someone... next to me, I had the panicky fear that it wasn't him.

Near as I could tell without looking, I was on a really soft, cushiony surface... like a bed. Only really big. Not those rope-slung affairs or stone slabs or whatever, but a real stuffed-with-animal-hair-fibers sort of mattress. Not Sealy-Posturepedic, but damned comfy for Tamriel. Apart from the unexpectedly lush accommodations, there were... sounds. Lots of sounds. Very uncomfortable, unsettling sounds.

Let's be honest: a lot of fucking was going on all around me. If you've seen even one porn movie in your entire life, you know that sound. Hell, if you've had one night of passionate sex with someone, you know it. I was afraid to open my eyes and find out that some stranger was next to me; afraid to find out I might have screwed whoever he was. Terrified to think that if he so much as wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, my legs would fly open and I'd let him have at me. Beg him to do it, even.

My body was not my own, yet my mind was, and the two of them were in complete disagreement on how to handle the situation. Whatever the situation was.

As if to slow down my rising hysteria, the person next to me groaned. Thank god, I'd been around Mauronk long enough that even a generic groan immediately identified him. Now I opened my eyes.

Mauronk was indeed in the huge bed next to me, rubbing his face roughly as he tried to wake up. I hated to turn my head, really didn't want to see what was happening around us, but if I didn't take my eyes off him, I'd have my hands on him. We were both buck-ass naked and my vagina was screaming bloody murder, figuratively speaking. The only thing saving him from a furious fucking was the fact that he wasn't erect at the moment.

I felt sick. This wasn't normal for me, this crazy lust business. I wasn't a nympho. I wasn't one of those people who got off on public sex, either. I'd never been in the same room with another couple having sex. Now I had three of them, ranged at the other four corners of the room, rutting like animals in heat.

It took a few minutes to register that they were all mixed race couples. To our left was a Khajiit man humping a Redguard woman. Diagonally across the room, what looked like a Nord guy was up to the hilt in an Argonian woman. On the right, a Dunmer woman was astride a guy whose regional origin wasn't entirely clear, but he was human.

So... whatever this was, humans were involved. Why? What the hell was going on?

"Danni," Mauronk growled low, and I met his eyes. "Where are we?"

I shook my head. "I have no clue. Are you... are you okay?"

He nodded, closing his eyes for a moment and worrying his forehead. Then he seemed to pause as he registered the general atmosphere of the room. He slowly raised his head and looked around, dumbfounded.

"What...?"

"Nice place, isn't it?" I said sarcastically. "I particularly like the drapes. Pity they're not around the beds. I could do without that guy's hairy ass over there."

Struggling to sit up, he seemed to simultaneously realize he was naked, I was naked, they were naked, and oh damn, missed this detail: in the center of the room was a really big rose. The center of the rose was flat, though. Looking at it, I felt a strong urge to go lie down in the middle. It looked like a really nice platform for receiving a solid rogering.

"We have to leave," Mauronk muttered urgently. His breathing began to quicken. "This place... it belongs to Sanguine."

I blinked in confusion. What, the Daedric Prince Sanguine? How in the hell had we stumbled into...?

That bitch. Fuming, I scanned the room, but naturally she was nowhere to be seen. Then I frowned and looked over at Mauronk.

He didn't seem the least bit agitated. Meanwhile, I was itching so bad for a fuck I'd mount anything that looked phallic. Did they think I needed persuading and he didn't? While I tried to parse that weirdness, he turned toward me and leaned close. Ah Christ, dude...

"Are you able to move?" he hissed urgently. "We may need to fight our way out. We should free these folk as well; they are not acting upon their own wills."

"Hey," I said breathily, taking his hand. "All they want us to do is fuck, Mauronk." I parted my thighs and put his hand between them, pressing his fingers against my sex. "Please," I begged.

I could feel my will drifting away like wisps of cloud. I tried to hold on, stay in control, but it was like my vagina was asserting herself with extreme prejudice. I rubbed her with his fingers, holding his gaze. "Give," I breathed. "Give."

Face twitching, he swallowed a few times before yanking his hand away and slapping me hard. I couldn't believe he did that! Holding my smarting cheek and staring incredulously at him, I almost launched a really rude set of swear words intended to fully expound on the dubious nature of his parentage, when he snarled, "You are not yourself!"

Before I could redirect my lecture into other topics, a door I hadn't seen before opened between the Khajiit and the Argonian beds, and Miss Bitch sauntered in. Still wearing her slut dress, too. She wandered over to the Khajiit and stroked his tail, which seemed to set him off in a frenzy. The Redguard was on her hands and knees, her face strained and teeth clenched as she searched diligently for that orgasm.

Either that, or she was just as torn between drug-induced lust and full realization as I was. I started at that thought; if I wasn't already more than familiar with Mauronk's bed before coming here, this would be...

Oh my god. The sounds seemed to change in my ears, and I heard more crying than moaning. The Dunmer woman was begging, all right... but she was begging for it to stop. The man she was humping was actually apologizing, even as he grit his teeth and grunted his pleasure. The Argonian... I don't think they were made for dicks like that Nord's. She had a mouthful of bed linen to stifle her screams, even as she came with a violent shudder. And the Khajiit... Okay, he looked like he was having the time of his life, but the Redguard had vomited at least once in their bed...

Jesus. Why didn't I see all that before? And why, now that I had seen it, did I still want Mauronk all up in my business? Hard and continuously? Right this god damn second or so help me, I'll finger myself and serve him right for waiting?

I shook my head vigorously, trying to get my mind back online. Then the bitch was at our bed, smirking at me. She glanced once at Mauronk, and it was clear she considered him boot scrapings at best.

"You are not enjoying our Lord's hospitality," she purred, and I had a momentary flash of 'kill' along with a very disturbing image of me sitting on her face.

"Why are we here?" Mauronk snarled, clearly not affected by anything going on in this place. Lucky bastard.

She spared him a withering glance, and addressed me as if I'd asked the question. "A prominent scholar seeks answers, hoping to claim reknown for his discoveries. We are aiding in his research, though such frivolous concerns are beneath us. Please, indulge yourself." She gestured toward Mauronk. "He is well-made, if ugly. He may be masked if you prefer."

"Why...? I'm sorry. What is this scholar going to get out of a bunch of people screwing in a basement?" I asked.

She smiled in that way people do when they think you're an idiot asking idiot questions. "You need not concern yourself. Surely you must feel the need for satisfaction. Is this Orsimer not cooperating?" She raised an eyebrow and glanced at Mauronk accusingly. "Another may be found. In the meantime, I am certain Dar'Zher would be more than happy to attend you." She gestured toward the Khajiit, who was doing that last couple of thrusts at the end of an ejaculation.

I'm going to blame the drug or whatever this whoremonger gave me for the involuntary eyebrow raise and lip lick that occurred when she offered me a chance to fuck a giant cat.

"Uh... no," I said firmly and hopefully convincingly. "I'm, um... I'm good. This one's fine. Um... so..." I gestured helplessly at the other couples. "Why the mix? Any particular reason?"

"Mix?" she asked.

"You know, mixed races," I clarified. "Me and an Orsimer, Khajiit and human, Argonian and human, Dunmer and human... Are you... I mean, is this scholar a total perv or what?"

"Let us say he is unsatisfied with where his fellows' research left off," she replied, beginning to walk away. "Denying scholarship and the pursuit of scientific knowledge on moral grounds." Sighing, she added, "His reasons are of no interest to me."

"What does he want, though?" I pressed. "What research? What scientific knowledge?"

She slowly turned and gave me an annoyed look. Like I shouldn't worry about this shit when there was fucking to be done.

"The book is on the table there beside you. That is the work he continues." Shaking her head as though I was a complete ninny, she went to chat up the Dunmer and her partner.

Exchanging a bewildered look with Mauronk, I crawled across the bed to the side where the table was and picked up a coppery-tan-colored book with what looked like a bird embossed on the cover. It was one of those lengthy, boring-ass treatises on racial differences published by some load of yay-hoos called the Council of Healers at the Imperial University. I had no idea what 'phylogeny' was, and no recollection of this book in the game. Not to say it wasn't there; I just never actually read any of the books or took particular note of them. An omission that was likely to bite me in the ass someday.

The sentence almost literally leaped right off the page and hit me square in the face:

Regrettably, our oaths as healers keep us from forcing a coupling to satisfy our scientific knowledge.

Oh my god. I skimmed the rest of the paragraph and nearly hurled. This batshit crazy scholar the bitch was talking about wanted to see if these mixed races could produce offspring. They were breeding us.