NOTE: This story contains male-on-male non-con, dubious con and mind break content. I do not condone these crimes in real life. This is purely fantasy and shameless smut. If any of you still remain, have fun and gets your rocks off my fellow degenerates!

The war had taken the most absurd turn Ulfric couldn't imagine. Of all things to enter the mix, dragons being resurrected was one of the most disastrous events. He could not have even imagined it, it was so unlikely.

Though they were a major threat - one Ulfric heard the fabled Dragonborn was in journey of ending - they have fortunately been a rare sight and have not affected the war efforts too much.

He knew in the aftermath after the Markarth Incident, when The Empire tried to restore order to prevent further pressure from the Aldmeri Dominion, that Skyrim was at war with herself.

He knew when he killed High King Torygg there would be great resistance from not just from the Empire, but his own people as well.

The consequences of each battle were bloodier than he wanted, but at he knew what to expect. Heavy casualties on both sides, sons and daughter of Skyrim fighting against other sons and daughters, but he knew deep in his heart he was doing the right thing. After this whole war is over, he can turn his attention to the high elves of the Dominion.

His blood boiled whenever he thought of them and their machinations. They were the aggressor in the Great war, yet the Empire was easily cowed into this flimsy excuse of "peace". This was not peace - it was a farce! He had once thought the indomitable Empire could withstand Oblivion and even Aetherius, but they were nothing more than feeble-minded men too pressured with the responsibility to lead their people to glory.

They were nothing more than an extension of the Altmer. They made that apparent when they outlawed worship of the mighty Talos.

Since the founding of their partnership, the rebel leader had done his best to anticipate his oppositions next moves. Cutting their supply lines, raiding their outposts, and swaying Skyrim's people to his cause. The situation was by no measure of the word easy, but with his prior experience in warfare and combat, he was confident he could defeat any obstacle in his way.

Other than the situation with the dragons, Ulfric Stormcloak refused to be blindsided or cowed by the Empire or their masters. Oblivion would follow should it happen.

The Jarl of Windhelm always remained within his city. As much as he wanted to fight alongside his fellow kinsmen in the war effort, his position as leader was too important to compromise. Even with his shout, he was still just a man. A stray arrow or sharpened blade can do him in just as it would any other. He needed to be at home base, to plan, to predict.

There were outliers in this trend, however. If the conflict was within the borders of his territory, then he can realistically go and deal with the problem and be back with little trouble. He wouldn't be alone too, so the likelihood of his demise was shortened a great deal.

He had been getting reports of disappearances in the north-west of his city, just behind the mountain. They once started as reports of khajit caravans getting hit and half of their crew disappearing. While the report was concerning, the war effort had to come first so he had set the those reports aside. It was the guards responsibility dealing with these matter anyhow.

They then took a drastic turn quicker than he imagined. Once just reports of caravans getting hit, scouting parties then began to go missing, but instead of just half of the crew, all of them were gone. Stormcloak or Imperial, it did not matter; those soldiers were gone. This problem just turned into a war problem he now needed to investigate. Supplies running low or late could lead to ruin for the Stormcloaks that needed them.

The reports also perplexed him. Now that he went through what the khajits had said, none of their supplies were touched, only their crew. What most boggled the jarl's mind at first was that they didn't even know how it happened. One moment they were traversing the road and then they out like a light. When they awoke some time later, half of their crew were missing, but not any of their merchandise.

The only answer Ulfric could come to was that the culprit, or group most likely, was using some type of sleep spell on the travelers. His thoughts drifted to other, more morbid thoughts. Mostly to what happened to the captives. Mages, especially the more sinister lot, could do a lot of damage without authority or supervision at their back. Wicked experiments, slave labor, or slave trade were the first suggestions his mind came up with.

He set out with a small yet experienced group of warriors to deal with the problem. Seven of them including Ulfric. He couldn't risk more good men and women fall victim to this evil scheme, so he made the more riskier move of gathering a small hit squad. He made his second-in-command, Galmar, take care of things in his stead. He trusted the man's convictions and strength. Galmar held no love for the Empire or any who chose to stand by as the fight rages on, but despite his passion, he was sharper than his battle-axe. There's a reason he is second to him when it came to commanding troops.

He and his men rode on horseback to the sight of the attacks. Night was slowly descending upon them as the sun's glow lessened with each passing second. The already cold winds were amplified, sending a terrible chill down Ulfric and his men's spines. The stone road was lightly peppered with snow, allowing easier direction.

"Commander! I think we're nearing the spot." one of his men, an largely built yet elderly man shouted.

True to his words, the ambush spot came into view. The numerous emptied carts, once filled with provisions, clothes, and weapon, litter the landscape. 'Bandits must have gotten to them.' Ulfric thought. He did not add bandits as suspects for their simplicity and lack of skill in their lousy cobbled band. The efficiency of these attacks did not match usual bandit M.O.

By his count, he saw twelve empty carts. Even supply party held up to five to ten men, which meant at least sixty able bodies went missing. His eyes then scanned the ground. The snow might've piled over in most places, but thankfully not the road. He saw no dry blood, which told Ulfric there was little to no struggle from the supply caravans.

"This is... This is impossible." uttered a young nordic man in his early thirties. The disbelief was shared with everyone else as they too couldn't comprehend how effective this enemy was.

"Eyes up everyone. Don't drop your guard." It was a redguard woman who said this. She was one of the two women in the group, but she was just as built as any of her contemporaries.

"She right. Everyone, stay close. Do not separate from the group and look for any clues." Ulfric ordered as they began to move into the caravan graveyard.

But unbeknownst to them all, a shadowy figured watched from the thick forest. His eyes immediately took note of how better equipped this latest group was compared to the previous others. They displayed strength by their bearskin ornaments and two-handed weaponry.

But this figures eyes instantly veered toward the only blonde of the group, and his eyes, once curious, turned to immediate interest.

Was that really the famed Ulfric Stormcloak? Leader of Stormcloak rebellion? He looked just as opposing as his soldiers, even without the heavy armor and a large weapon. The figure realized why many nords choose to follow him and his crusade for independence. He radiated an air of confidence that seemed to passively flow from him. Combine that with charisma and promises of making their land a self-running country, who wouldn't follow him?

The figured rubbed his chin, then, in thought as less than pure questioned entered his mind.

What would he look like on his knees?

How would he react to certain stimuli?

What his groans sound like?

And like any scientist or experimenter, he just had to test the rebel to find out.

The figure walked calmly to the group, the snow crunching beneath him announcing his arrival. The other woman of the group, a slender yet toned redhead of a nord pointed her two-handed greatsword at the figure. "Commander! We have a new arrival."

The group turned to see the figure as he stepped into view. They were... underwhelmed to say the least. He was tall and lean altmer elf, a foot taller than Ulfric. His skin was like that of any high elf they've encountered, a pale golden hue that seemed to glow. His cheek bones were angular and sharp, giving him a regal aura around him. His hair was a dark brown, so dark it could be mistaken as black, with a matching moustache and goatee to pair with.

His eyes were the most alluring part of him. They were a bright blue. Just like his skin, they too seemed to glow despite the low light of the closing day. Ulfric and his men were no stranger to bright blue eyes; they were a common feature amongst the human species, but seeing a mer with them seemed surreal. One can even say pretty.

Yet his clothes did not match his king-like face. He wore robes befitting that of a mage, complete with muted colors of caramel and blue. His hood was on, which shadowed the upper half of his face, but not so much to completely obscure his features.

Everyone one knew he was a high elf the moment he sauntered to them. His stride, straight and poised, radiated arrogance and a holier-than-thou attitude. It made their scowls deepen even further.

Ulfric was more lenient with his expressions. Contrary to popular belief, he did not see all of the mer as enemies. He viewed the Empire as a weak puppet of the vile Aldmeri Dominion, but to say he hated all altmer with all of his heart was simply not true. He held a level of animosity due to the Great War, but as long as they proved they were peaceful, he would allow altmer and other elves into Windhelm. Niranye and the dark elves were a prime example of this.

"Altmer! identify yourself." one of the four men barked. He was middle-aged nord with a long black hair.

"Must you yell so loudly?" the elf remarked with an eye roll. "I'm standing but a few steps away."

"Do as you're ordered, or we will have no choice but to detain you." said the last man of the group. A brunette nord with a bald head, but a long beard

The high elf merely shrugged, even as seven armed and dangerous individuals were pointing their weapons at him. "Very well. My name is Floshem." He then held out a hand. "And I am well aware of who you are. Specifically your leader."

That of course did not surprise them; Empire sympathizers and everyone knew the name Ulfric Stormcloak. Said man stepped up closer to Floshem, but still remained close to his group. "I assume you know why we came to this specific spot."

"I have a few ideas..."

While he understood the altmer were a proud race, can they really be so flippant in situations like this? Apparently so, Ulfric sneered. "Then speak."

"I am the culprit."

Silence ensued. Ulfric and his men couldn't believe their ears. Such a simple admission of guilt, yet spoken by an arrogant elf. This was a rare sight for them.

The rebel leader gripped his sword even tighter. "Are you mocking us? You think this is a joke?!"

"By the divine, are your ears plugged? The wind is not howling. Surely you heard what I just said, correct?" Floshem said. "I'm the one who spirited your men and women from the caravans. Simple, yes?"

"That all the proof we need!"

The largely built elder rushed the elf weapon in hand. Ulfric's eyes widened. "ERIK! STOP-!"

But the altmer was not the least bit intimidated. He rolled his eyes at the foolish nord. His axe descended, but the nord did not anticipate the altmer dodging and closing the distance, getting right in front of Erik's face.

"What-?!" His throat was caught in a vice grip. Floshem's hand glowed a light blue, and second passed before the elderly nord's eyes closed.

Floshem's grip dropped him to the floor. Ulfric and his men gaped like fishes out of water. They had thought Erik had passed on, but his snores occupied the air. They let out a collective sigh of relief.

"Now as much as I want to engage you all in mortal combat..." Both of the altmer's hands glowed an electrifying blue as the Stormcloaks attempted to rush him. "I have other plans."

Just as Floshem was about to get dogpiled, he swiped his hands in large horizontal arc. The blue magic burst from his hands and rolled through the air like waves on the ocean that overtook Ulfric and his men. The force of his magic was enough to throw them all back, their minds shutting to sleep.

A number of them landed on the soft snow with little noise, but one man was able to utter a loud groan upon impact. Floshem was decently surprised. There are not that many who can will themselves to stay awake from his sleep spell. He moved in the direction of the groan and found the cognitive man laying on the snow.

Ulfric Stormcloak was no stranger when it came to battling against magic users. He faced many of them during the Great War and slew them like any other opponent. But this altmer was different. He appeared so apathetic facing a whole squad of armed warriors, displayed quick reflexes not seen in most mages, and conjured a simple yet potent spell that due away his men - even him.

He could feel his mind escape him. It was a sudden upturn from feeling awake and ready to drowsy and weak. His limbs felt like they would whenever he awakes. and his eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

But he fought his body's desire to sleep. It was losing battle as the altmer's magic was beyond any he has ever experienced. His ear perceived the sound of footsteps nearing him. His grim expression turned even grimmer.

"My, my... You're still awake?" Floshem stood upright as he stroked his chin in appraisal as he studied Ulfric. Usually a blast like that would send anyone into a full day's slumber, but then again, this was the leader of the Stormcloaks. Floshem would have been disappointed if he just out like a light without a fight. "Your Thu'um must have played a part in your continued resistance." he then surmised.

With what little strength he had left, he spat the altmer, but the loogie fell short of its target. "Damn you..."

"And you can even still talk? My, what a powerful human you are."

He was mocking him again, Ulfric felt. "You won't... get away with this.."

Floshem rolled his eyes one more. "Oh please," He crouched to look at the nord more closely. "The fact you came means I already have."

"Fuck you..." He opened his mouth to use his shout. It wouldn't do anything substantial; they were already put sleep, but he refused to give this elf the pleasure of seeing him weak.

Floshem knew of his intentions and was willing to experience the power of this ancient nordic art. It would be an interesting subject to note in his journal.

But it never came. Ulfric fell into his slumber before he could utter the first syllable.

Floshem sighed in disappointment. "Oh well." He stood back up and swiped his hand upwards. A blue aura surrounded the rebel and the rest of his men. He began walk away towards his base of operations, the floating bodies trailing behind him. "Oh, and Ulfric..."

He floated his body near him, his face close to his. He felt his even breathing hit him. He should be like this for eight hours at most. He then placed his index finger upon Ulfric's lips. He noted they were dry from the cold winds. He then traced his finger across them before dipping it into his mouth. His finger was grazed from his teeth, but there was no indication the rebel would bite. He pressed his finger against Ulfric's tongue, the appendage writhing in response and licked around his digit.

Satisfied, he continued his way back to his home.

An hour turned to eight. The Skyrim night had passed and entered into a new day. As many of the country's inhabitants readied themselves for another day of work, pleasure, or battle, one such man awoke like he did any other.

But he did not know he would enter a new world the moment he opened his eyes.

The jarl's eyes came up slowly. He tried to move his hands to rub the sleep from them, but was stopped. His head lulled to his right and he found the reason: his hands were chained. Without missing a beat, he began to thrash against his restraints, but his refined strength cultivated from years of training and combat were gone. He panicked. He should have shaken the effects of sleep out of his system by now. Adrenaline should be pumping through his veins, forcing more power in him, but his entire body was weak. He could not do much other than pull at the chains.

"What's going on?" Even his voice was depowered. "Where am I?" A constricting feeling was then felt around his throat. Ulfric couldn't properly see it, but it felt like a iron collar around his neck.

He then remembered the reason he went out of the city. He looked around his surrounding, finding that he was chained in a simple rectangular room. Its floors, walls, and ceilings were made of the common stone found in most buildings in Skyrim. Ulfric was chained in the middle of one of the wider walls. In front of him laid a simple bed complete with a wooden frame, cloth pillow, and animal hides to act as sheets. To the north-western of the room, from Ulfric's perspective, was a wooden table simple adorned with vials and bottles, all of which were empty.

His attention was hyper-focused. He heard no sound. Everything was eerily silent save for the clink and clanks of his chains. He realized he was kidnapped, just like those caravans, but unlike most of them, he had experienced something similar. The Thalmor had spirited him away during the Great War in search of intel. He was young at the time, less experienced in battle and warfare so he caved in quick.

If this was some sort of interrogation, then that elf will be in for a surprise. He would need to do a lot worse than the Aldmeri Dominion did to get him to talk.

It was then he noticed something off. His entire body felt uncomfortably hot. That was not strange in and of itself; he did wear rather heavy clothes and armors, and wearing them indoors did get him warm under the collar, but this feeling was enhanced than any he ever felt before. He shifted where he stood, trying to open up his clothes a bit to vent his body lest he pass out from heat stroke.

Was this the elf's plan? Boil him alive in a hot room. That was new, but not torturous. He felt rather insulted the elf would think he would break from this.

Ulfric stewed in his own sweat for ten more minutes until Floshem decided to make his appearance. To the jarls left beside the table, stone in the shape of a door indented itself into the wall before sliding to revealing an opening. The altmer who captured walked inside the room with the stone door closing behind him with Floshem touching a button or anything.

"Ah, you're awake." Floshem said. "That is good. We can start now?"

"You damn altmer... For what reason have you taken me?!" Ulfric tried to scream, but it sounded more like his indoor voice than anything else.

"You will find out." Floshem stated vaguely. He stood in front of Ulfric as he addressed him. His added height of the altmer made the nord frown.

He was mocking him; or thought himself higher than him.

"Where are my men? What have you done with them?!"

"I was wondering when you would ask that question." the elf commented. "They are safe... for the moment."

If there was one thing Ulfric valued above his own life, it was that of the people he commanded. He started this whole war for them so that they can have an autonomous country without being steered by some corrupt empire. If more of Skyrim's people died because of him, he would never forgive himself.

Ulfric narrowed his eyes. "You want something from me?"

"Correct." Floshem had his eyes trained on him the moment he entered the room. "And before you ask, no, I have no need of coin, influence, and I am capable of finding my own women to bed."

Ulfric panted. The hotness within him was getting worse. How can he be so hot, yet the elf remained neutral? "Then... what do you want?" Floshem quieted himself. Ulfric stopped to listen for when he would speak, but with each passing second, his patience ran thinner and thinner. His unbearable sweating only made it worse. "What do you want?!"

Instead of responding with a straight answer, Floshem went to the table containing the vials and bottles. He pulled two bottles. Both contained remnants of fluorescent liquids, but one was pink while the other green.

Floshem held up the green bottle first. Upon closer inspection. "You're probably wondering why you feel so weak despite having awoken some time ago. This is the reason." he stated. "This contained an alchemic solution that once ingested, the victim loses most of their physical strength. Half of this bottle would reduce a strong soldier to that of a baby."

Ulfric gritted his teeth in anger. Leave it to altmers to use underhanded tactics.

Floshem continued. "I made your unconscious body ingest twice the recommended amount. Honestly I am surprised; you shouldn't even be able to move finger, yet here are making the chains move." Ulfric did not take pride at the compliment, but Floshem needed no response. "As for the other one..."

He moved back in front of Ulfric once more, but closer. He reached his hand out to touch his face, and Windhelm's jarl stood his ground. He refused to give no quarter to his enemy, and so he locked eyes with the expressionless Floshem.

But will gave way, however, when all Floshem did was stroke a finger against his neck.

That was when it happened.

Ulfric's breath hitched, a small moan escaping his lips. He closed his mouth the moment the sound escaped him. He was horrified. His will was strong and the touch was weak. Why did he break, and why in such a lewd manner?

"My dear jarl, the second bottle contained an alchemic solution that once ingested, enhances all the pleasure sensors in the body, driving the victim into extreme lust. A mere drop can drive a man or women into a sex-crazed frenzy. And you have the entire bottle flowing through your system."

Ulfric's eyes widened in shock. "Why?" he groaned. Now aware of his growing need to mate, his pants grew so tight, he swore his manhood would tear it open. "Is this how you plan to torture me? By driving me insane with lust?"

"Torture?" Floshem's brow dipped in confusion. "Oh no, I was simply curious."

"Huh?"

Ulfric had no words. He just did this on a whim basically? Just cause he can? Was he insane?!

The jarl groaned, but louder. His manhood was brushing against the cloth of his pants. With every movement of sensitive flesh against fabric, the more his underwear grew wetter and wetter.

"You see, I wanted to see how the renowned Ulfric Stormcloak would react to certain stimuli." Now that he was seeing the results, it was an interesting sight. He wasn't paralyzed nor was he begging to be bent over a table, things those concoctions should be doing. but what else should you expect from a man unafraid of starting a civil war.

"You're insane!" Ulfric spat.

"Is that really how you should be acting in your situation?" He softly gripped Ulfric's neck. He avoided constricting his windpipe, but did grip both sides of his neck with his large hand and long fingers. "Especially with your mens' freedom on the line?"

The touch on his sensitive flesh made Ulfric's heart throb even harder. The mention of his men brought back his attention. "You intend to sell them as slaves? You're vile!"

"Their freedom matters little to me. What matters is if I profit." Floshem said in regards to his part in the slave trade. "What you should be concerned about, however, is how you will serve me to guarantee their freedom."

The rebel leader wasn't stupid. He now understood what the altmer before him wanted. What he wanted to do to him.

And it meant giving his body to him.

The concept of a man engaging with another man in a sexual manner was not a foreign concept to Ulfric. He had seen it happen a number of times - accidentally, of course. Many of the men in the Great War were in need of comfort, and when they could not find the comfort of a women, they turned to their fellow soldiers for assistance. He has even known a number of men who claimed to be into men more than women.

Ulfric had no problem with it; why should it matter anyhow? Whether you fucked men or women was irrelevant. Can you swing a sword? Can handle marching in armor? Are you capable of sound decision-making? Unless their sexuality was hindering the efficiency of their duties and/or the duties of other, Ulfric did not give homosexuality much mind.

He did mind when it was he who was targeted to be penetrated. On reflex, he opened his mouth to use his shout, but even when he completed it with perfect pronunciation, nothing escaped his mouth.

"Don't even bother. I enchanted the collar to prevent your usage of the shout. Would be rather inconvenient for me if I kept being blasted off mid thrust." Floshem stated, seeing the mortification on his captive's face. "So what will it be? Do you value your own body so much you are willing to sacrifice your men to slavery? Or will you submit?"

Floshem thumb did not remain inactive. He rubbed circles around the side of Ulfric's neck. He tightened his grip, firmly pushing his thumb so the jarl's flesh knew his intentions.

The air was knocked out of Ulfric the moment he did. His body quivered, his knees nearly toppling. He panted even harder as his eyes became glossed over in wanton lust. "Ye...Ye..."

"Hm?"

"NEVER!" Ulfric shouted, the loudest its been since his imprisonment.

Floshem did not lose his grip, but he was once again decently surprised at the show of will power within the blonde nord.

The elf did not cease his rubbing, causing Ulfric to lose much of his intimidation factor in his voice. "I will... never submit to your evil games...but..."

His groin pulsed when Floshem squeezed his neck.

"But... you leave me... with no choice..." he swallowed the spit that threatened to drip down his mouth.

Even throughout that entire exchange, Floshem's expression did not waver. His face remained the same as it did the moment he showed himself by the road. "I am glad we have reached an understanding."

He first went to unlock Ulfric's left hand. The metal leaving his wrist was the only thing keeping his arm up, so when it left, his drugged state made itself more obvious when his arm fell to his side, leaving him with little strength to hold it up with. When Floshem went to unlock his right arm, Ulfric tried his hand in attacking him.

Floshem did not even look at him when a fist came such a sluggish pace, it couldn't barely constitute a punch. He simply batted it away without a word.

With his pathetic attempt to rebel squashed to a halt, Ulfric begrudgingly stood back. His body may be enflamed, but so was his heart. As soon as his strength returned, he vowed to make this altmer suffer.

His right arm was released. With both arms freed, Floshem stepped back, studying his captive even further. With just enough to stand, Ulfric was forced to lean back on the stone wall for support, all the while glaring in defiance despite his depleted state. He wanted to do more; shout, scream, curse his mother for ever conceiving him, but he was well aware what was on the line. He needed to save his soldiers.

Even if it meant doing... that.

"Strip."

The simple command felt like he a Thu'um had ripped though his system. Even more so with his growing lust.

Ulfric understood the command. It was not hard to comprehend. Yet his stillness appeared to be a a show of resistance to Floshem, who shrugged in response. "I wonder how that redhead nord would feel around my cock?" he mused, purposefully loud. "I have not bedded a nord before, but I heard good things about the women and-"

The rebel glared so hard, a blood vessel was pulsing in his neck. What made worse was that he couldn't tell if it was a bluff or not. His impassive demeanor was too hard to crack.

He couldn't take any chances.

He started unlatching the harnesses of his steel gauntlets before slipping them off his forearms and dropping with an clank to the floor. Such a simple task brought renewed vigor to his sensitive nerves. He did not even want to show his fingers to the evil man before him, but he had to.

Ulfric was proud of the body he has trained. But to have it serve such an indecent act with a immoral elf made his head spin in ways he hated, and were conflicted about.

His fur-lined black coat was next to fall, revealing his steel cuirass. He undid the brown straps with shaking hands. He pulled the chest piece enough to allow Ulfric to pull it over his head and off his body. He too let the chest piece land quite harshly.

His long-sleeved black tunic did not hide his physique, Floshem thought. He can tell that without the his powerful shout, he would be a formidable foe. It was unfortunate he was his enemy.

The black tunic overstayed its welcome and was quickly disposed of. It felt like a relief to the lust-addled jarl. His body was so hot and sweaty, bothered and uncomfortable, that losing his shirt felt like providence to his upper body. He paused for a moment to appreciate the cooling sensation enveloping him.

"Continue."

But the elf just had to ruin it. Another shaken sigh left Ulfric's lips. His lower half was still shielded from the altmer's gaze. He wanted it to stay that way, but elf demanded a complete stripping. He had no power to use. Only the freedom of his kinsmen kept him going.

It was only when he took off one of his boots and placed his bare sole on the stone ground did he realize how cold the room actually was. The moment his toes touched the stone, he recoiled in surprise before setting his entire foot down. He pulled his other fur boot off and yet again the cold floor shocked him.

Was his body so hot it ignored the relatively chilly room?

One last piece was what defended Ulfric's honor; from baring it all to the elf. His hands gripped the pants hem. He paused. His heart was beating in embarrassment and anger. He has never felt so powerless. Not even during the interrogation with the Thalmor was he this deprived of honor and respect.

Floshem cocked his head to side when he noticed Ulfric's freezing. He did not goad him though to keep him going. He simply stroked his finger on his enlarged penis.

Ulfric moaned in surprise, stepping back and connecting his bare, sweaty back with the cold walls. The conflict between hot and cold made Ulfric grit his teeth. Even the stones rubbing against his back felt good.

Like a dog in heat, he panted, a few trails of spit escaping him. Ulfric glared at Floshem. The elf merely stared at the nord.

They knew what was coming, but only one of them wanted to delay as long as he could.

But Ulfric only had only so long before Floshem would turn to his men for entertainment. So with that in mind, he steeled his nerves and pulled his pants down.

Hairy. That was the first word that came to Floshem's mind when he gazed at Ulfric Stormcloak's naked body. Much like most male nords, they believed in growing out their body and head hair. Possibility to stay warm in Skyrim's cold weather, but Floshem also heard they represented attractiveness and masculinity in nordic culture. The longer the hair and/or how much hair you hair have builds your allure to potential lovers.

Floshem himself and many other elves did not share the same cultural belief, but that did not mean Ulfric's form was repulsive by any means. He was strong, as shown by his muscles. His face was straight with the beard adding a mature nature to him. His blonde hair that was on his head and body was bright and looked soft to the touch. Floshem was sure the nord had left many women in wanting from the just the sight of him.

When the elf's eyes wandered down, Ulfric resisted the embarrassing sensation to cover himself because he knew where he was looking. His white face was red to begin with from all the exertion and hormones, but the blush intensified when Floshem began studying his manhood.

Floshem has experienced with both men and women in the past. He would not call himself a sexual creature, but he did indulge every once and a while when he had the time. He had been with men, so he knew a good cock when he saw one.

And Ulfric's... was fine. Thanks to the aphrodisiac, Floshem was able to see it in all its glory. He was slighter longer than most elves, but the main aspect to note was the girth. Above average was Floshem's rating, but he has been with partners more well endowed than the rebel leader. His girth, while bigger than most nords, did not even compare to orcs in their adolescents.

"Hm..." Ulfric loosely tolerated the elf's heated gaze. "It seems you are happy to see me."

The white nord's member bounced from the acknowledgment, but his hatful gaze did not match his groin. "Just... get it over with." he breathed rather heatedly.

Just when Ulfric assumed he was to be pounced on, Floshem remained where he stood, just studying him. It made him feel even more like an experiment. Or a toy.

The uneventful silence made concerning aspects of his body more apparent. His legs felt like jelly with only the bare minimum to stand. His fingertips created grooves in his palms as he balled his hands so tightly, he swore he felt blood. And the rhythm of his heart was faster than any time he entered combat.

Whether these were caused by anticipation or dread, Ulfric was not sure.

Finally, to Ulfric's relief, Floshem walked back to the table to retrieve a new, full bottle of some clear viscous substance. He returned back to Ulfric. "Turn around and place your hands on the wall."

His heart dropped, Ulfric's eyes wide in growing dread. Without another word, he turned and presented his white rear for the elf to torment to his evil desires. In a way he grateful; he did not need to face him as his body was used like a whore.

His head swam with expectations against what he knew was wrong. He has only heard women talk about what being with a man was like, but he never heard it from men who connected with each other. For sure it would hurt; he had never even touched his back hole in such a manner. But there must have been an element those men felt when inviting another to take their ass. Did it really feel good to be penetrated, especially in a way nature did not intend?

'NO! Ulfric put a stop to his sinful thoughts. The serum was messing with him, turning his body against himself. Even though he agreed to Floshem's terms, that did not mean he wanted to. It was his duty to his countrymen that drove him, not the selfish need to feel flesh against his. 'Focus... Focus...' He did not spends years fighting and learning just to end up as some elf's cock sleeve.

Every part of his body cringed, awaiting for the inevitable. From his toes to his neck, he was pinched and stiff. Floshem knew the state of his captive's body would turn out like this. He needed to be prepared.

The altmer moved to the nord's side, bottle in hand. Ulfric didn't notice at first, his eyes scrunched closed and lips tightly shut. He would have noticed him eventually, but Floshem did not wait.

Like a predator in the bushes, Floshem's free hand grabbed one of Ulfric's ass cheeks and squeezed. The action erupted a loud and guttural moan from the victim's lips. The newfound roughness to his actions caused his entire being to flutter and contract. How he still stood was a miracle.

"What-?!... What are you-?!" demanded the nord. His toes curled when the elf squeezed her derriere again.

His words fell on deaf ears as the elf continued groping and poking his bottom. "My, my... what a pliable butt you have." he commented. The elasticity was nice. Despite being all muscular, Ulfric Stormcloak's butt was soft as the elf's palm and fingers sunk into it. And it wasn't just jiggly soft, it was very responsive. When he went to take a look at hand mercilessly groping the white butt, the cheek had had turned a deep shade of red.

"Stop it!" Ulfric then grunted. Again he was ignored. He wanted to lay his hand, no matter how weak, on the elf to stop this horrible mistreatment. But his soldiers needed him. His pride had to take a back seat unless he wanted to sacrifice them to keep his ass clean of lewd behavior.

Smack!

"Aah!" Spiking pain erupted from his kneaded butt as Floshem had jabbed his pride once more by spanking him. And due to the drug coursing through him and making him more sensitive, the pain and pleasure mixed in great and equal amounts.

"Mmmm... Do you know how your ass jiggles in response to me? It is quite amusing." Floshem calmly said.

"Just- Aaaah!" Another harsh hit landed. "Just fuck me already!" he groaned.

A cock in his ass was the last thing he wanted, but it was better than this prolonged humiliation. At least he would be done with it and have time to devise a strategy to deliver agonizing pain unto the elf before him.

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

Slap after a minute of groping came in a pattern. Windhelm's jarl learned how to quiet his yelps to subdued grunts of pain. And pleasure.

The pearl of precum on the head of his erect member attested to that.

One final clutch of his bottom and Floshem separated his hand from Ulfric. The jarl let out a series of strained pants, as if he had marched miles without rest. His ears perched when he heard the sound of something dipping into something thick yet liquidly. His half lidded eyes careened to Floshem and they shot wide when he saw the elf had coated his entire middle and index finger in the gel-like concoction.

The stained hand returned to its place on his ass, but closer to unexplored territory. Ulfric uttered the beginnings of a protest, but devolved into a pitiful mewl when those terrible fingers stroked his asshole.

His wide eyes relaxed, but defiance still reined within him. He refused to give entry to those intrusive fingers as he constricted his hole the tightest he's ever done. His efforts were rewarded with a hum of assertion from his molester, and Ulfric felt victorious for the first time since enduring this torture.

SMACK!

"AAAAH!" And in response, Floshem gave him the hardest spank to date, leaving his mouth and eyes open in shock. His concentration on his asshole was lost in favor of experiencing the pain and pleasure of that smack.

Floshem wasted no time in taking advantage of that. Just like with his sensitive butt, the elf slid his fingers in without consideration of Ulfric, Also like his butt, was extra sensitive to foreign invasion.

"Aah...!" Ulfric could only stare the the wall before in him in shock as he felt Floshem's middle finger travel deeper and deeper into his back hole. By the divine, was his fingers long. This showed when most of his middle digit delved into him before inevitably reaching the back of his anus.

Ulfric's eyes bulged more intensely when the elf began pulling his digit out of his ass. It felt agonizing yet stimulating. Despite his want to expel him from his body, his body did not listen to his mind. It clutched his finger, as afraid of it leaving. He tried to control it, but ever time his ass fluttered wide, it immediately returned to surround Floshem's intrusion.

The skin rubbed against the fleshy insides of Ulfric's bottom, forcing the jarl to experience a foreign yet familiar sensation. The twisting and curling within his body he knew. It meant he was getting into the zone. It meant the apex of pleasure anyone, mer or human, can reach.

Ulfric couldn't feel more ashamed at himself.

He wanted to shout, scratch, or even tell the elf off, to make him get off lest he suffer the consequences. Yet his threats and demands were left unsaid as Ulfric realized, with the state he was in, his voice would sound pitiful and throaty. He had long accepted this fate in order to save his party, but his self-pride was an important part of him. If he gave up even more of that, then what would become of him?

Floshem pulled his finger painstakingly slow and just when he was fully out, he drove his finger back in.

"AAAH!" Ulfric had not been fooled by the near escape. He knew the elf would drive back in, but he did not expect it to be so harsh; so painful; so... tantalizing.

'NO! Don't think that! If I do, he'll win. I... I need to overcome this. This is easy. I'll return to Windhelm, and forget this ever-'

"Aaaaaah..." He looked to Floshem, then, as he felt his anus being rubbed. He had not noticed until now that the elf's fingernails were long. Not grotesquely or dangerously so, enough to feel the blunted tip scrape against the walls of his hole. And if that wasn't enough, he also felt the entire finger wiggling within the tight area. His body was weakened and heightened thanks to the concoctions forcibly given to him, so why did his ass have to be so tight and delicate to the touch?

"Sto-... St..."

"Hmmm?"

Ulfric bit his bottom lip. He almost did it. He almost begged for reprieve from the evil altmer. No, the thought. He needed to stay strong. He needed to outlast him... somehow. And it will not come at the cost of his pride, this Ulfric swore!

And then Floshem curled his finger.

At least, to the best Ulfric's snug ass could allow. The nord did not give any indication of protest. He looked more stunned, strained at the elf's effort to stretch him out. His breathing quickened as Floshem continued to rummage around. He cringed when the scraping of his anus' deepened as Floshem moved his dexterous finger in circles.

It was a deep ravine of stimuli the nord had been dropped into, but his will burned bright. Even if every part of his body was contracting and trembling by the power of one finger, he kept himself upright, both physically and mentally.

Floshem, unfortunately, noticed this. He had let the nord experience his middle finger to get him used to incursions in his butt, but now that he was accommodating him quite nicely, perhaps it was time for a new addition to enter the fray.

Ulfric's steely convictions were shaken once more when Floshem's slick index finger joined in fingering him. He had forgotten it was also lubed up. His circular hole stretched to accommodate the two tentacle-like fingers, and it made his efforts in pushing back the pleasure rising in the back of his mind to fester more violently.

Thankfully, for Ulfric, the fingering did not last long. Floshem wanted him prepared, not accustomed. He was still very curious how he would strain to handle a bigger appendage of his.

It surprised Ulfric when the elf exited and left his hole alone, but what replaced it was more than relief. His body had been building towards a goal; a delicious, almost mind-breaking goal from the elf's molestation. His cock had been bouncing in wait for that goal, but it was suddenly stripped of it. It perplexed the jarl greatly when instead of feeling happy at the torture's end, he felt hollow.

He wanted something to fill him up again.

This was the drug's doing. Ulfric knew this and hated how it drove him to wanton desires to be touched like some prostitute. He had no choice here, however. It was either this, or put his soldiers in the hands of slavers. It would undermines everything he has worked towards. Dishonor wouldn't begin to describe him if he fell to that cowardice.

'Was... Was this how the Empire felt?' he then pondered, exhaustion rattling ever aspect of him and making him go over the thigs he closed himself off to.

But before that train of thought could flourish, Floshem grabbed him by the hair and pulled him Ulfric to face him. His knees then smacked against the hard stone as he was forced down, his face on level with the elf's groin.

His stomach dropped. Both in alarm and disgust.

"Unsheathe me from my pants." Floshem commanded of him.

Ulfric mustered the nastiest glare he could give, but it was undermined by the blush on his cheeks. His words and their implications sent ripples to his core and impure thoughts to his brain. Unwanted questions accompanied the unwelcomed lust, driving his very core curious action.

How big was he?

How sensitive to touch was he down there?

Would it fit inside-

Ulfric swallowed his spit, his words heavy. "You disgust me."

Floshem did not look the least bit offended. "Even so, I gave you a simple demand. Follow it, or else."

Despite the nord's perverted curiosity, his hands stayed on his lap, covering his stiff member and displaying his disobedience.

Floshem merely rolled his eyes. "You know, elderly shouldn't engage in much sexual activity. It's not good for their heart." he said. "I can drug those soldiers of yours with the same dosage, and they will collapse if I just jacked them off. I hope you realize that."

The rebel's hands turned into fist at his words. "I will kill you, elf."

Said elf's hand snaked its way into his hair and pushed his face against his covered cock. "I'm sure..."

Ulfric's addled state made him all the more curious. Against his will, he sniffed the simple fabric of the pants and noted the hints of manly musk emanating from them. Sweat perhaps? Ulfric hated that he did not find the stench offending.

His hands gripped his pants thighs tightly. He questioned when he had moved them. Floshem's hand continued to hold his face to his nether parts, and it didn't take long before the proud jarl found himself panting against them. He noticed once and tried to stop, but when the pants began to tent, his panting doubled in intensity.

Floshem felt the weighted breathing against him and his biology dictated his body to react. He was semi-hard by the time Ulfric was panting. He continued to study his nordic captive and took note of how his eyes began to glaze over, his focus lessening in the face of the inappropriate touching. He couldn't see, but Floshem was sure Ulfric's cock was practically bleeding precum.

"Pull them down."

The soft voice felt more like shouting to Ulfric, whose eyes shot back open and refocused themselves. He sneered up at Floshem and attempted to push off from his body, but the elf just added more force in his hold. Not by that much since the concoctions in his body still left him weak.

"Curse you..."

"Pull my pants down." repeated Floshem.

Ulfric wanted to strangle him. Flay his skin and make him walk naked through the coldest of Skyrim's winters. Plunging a sword into him or a simply beheading was too easy a punishment. He needed to be humiliated just as much as he was.

This he swore when the nord reluctantly pulled the pants down.

All his vitriol against Floshem came to a halt when he took a gander at his underwear.

It was... bigger than Ulfric expected. Not that he knew the averages sizes of each of the mer species nor his own kinsmen, but the tent was larger than any Ulfric could make even at his horniest.

He wetted his throat with a gulp, and pulled the underwear down. But as more and more of the cloth was pulled, the realization Ulfric was in a world of pain started to truly dawn on him.

The nord pulled enough cloth down to allow the stiffen elf penis to shot up and smack his bearded chin. He kicked himself for flinching from the minor hit. He backed his head, Floshem allowing it, and found himself ten inches away from Floshem's groin.

Solely because his cock separated them.

His nose took a whiff of the scent of it. Surprisingly, it was only slightly sweaty, but the musk was stronger now that it was not covered. It appeared clean, probably because the elf wanted to prepare for this torture.

But its tidiness was the least of Ulfric's concern. 'It's... It's big.' He was too shocked to give the note more importance. He had never seen any other cock than his own, but the way it eclipsed his told Ulfric the elf was packing a literal weapon beneath his pants. Not only was it had a length most men would die for, its girth suggested a lot of stretching was needed to accommodate this monster. Surely every woman he has ever bedded came out limping in the end.

"Need I say what would happen should you decide to bite?" Floshem warned, this tone yet again infallible.

'Forget trying to bite you; how can you expect me to put this in my mouth?!' His wide yet hazed filled eyes portrayed his dread and curiosity. His eyes continued to stare at the urethra on the mushroom head. Even the head looked daunting, squishy yet thick.

The jarl of Windhelm scowled, but primarily at himself. Here he was - Ulfric Stormcloak, leader of the rebellion, slayer of High King Torygg, and future liberator of Skyrim - trembling like some virgin girl before her deflowering. He's been through much worse than this. The memories of the Thalmor nearly breaking his bones or cutting his flesh came to mind. His training with the Greybeards in order to learn the Way of the Voice was anything but a breeze. He needed to steel himself, carry himself in the highest regards even in situations like this. It would dishonor his name and ever nord he promised to fight for.

Even here, with slavery close to reality for his men, his pride couldn't allow him to look weak. He just... had to give pleasure, rescue his men, and then burn the elf at the stake. He's done the impossible before, escaped harrowing ordeals most would despair from. He just had to swallow that pride of his yet carry himself like a future king.

And that meant swallowing a certain elf's thick member.

He wetted his lips, his shaken breath trailing over the penis before him. It jumped in attention, its veins lightly pulsing. Ulfric had to consider that a victory, however small it was. Floshem was so deadpanned, but his body was at least more honest.

Floshem had thought of shoving his cock down his male captive's throat, just to see his reaction, but decided against it. It would do not good to accidently choke or crush his esophagus. He'd be useless then and would have to be thrown away. 'Lets take this slow.'

The elf pressed the head on Ulfric's lips. The nord tried to flinch away, but forgot about the hold on his head. He looked up and met the elf's apathetic eyes. He looked back down at the challenge before him. His throat bobbed. The thought of biting the member did cross his mind, but he squashed it down; it wouldn't be him that suffered afterwards, it would be his captured men. He had to do this. He had to!

The mushroom top continued to press his moist lips. Ulfric's moist penis leaked more precum. He internally growled and closed his eyes.

Floshem slowly felt Ulfric's lips part. An eyebrow raised when his tongue poked and prodded his head. Experimenting most likely. The pink appendage was moisten with saliva, so the gliding over the small area his tongue did touch was slick and effortless.

His mouth opened wider, allowing more of the head to enter. Other than the light motions of his tongue, Ulfric wasn't aiming to be the king of oral pleasure, especially not to his enemy. His head rocked back and forth, smoothly leaving and descending on the elf's cock. His motions were fast. He wanted to end this as quickly as possible.

The drug-induced lust within him had other plans. His mind registered the spongey head inside his mouth, but instead of vomiting his earlier meal, the texture pleased him. It was smooth and soft, yet somehow firm. It was weighty as well, he then noticed. Before he even realized it, Ulfric was engulfing the entire head in his mouth, his tongue now having difficulty reaching every spot and crevice due to how it filled his oral cavity,

He he pulled back however, his tongue was freed and worshipped the entire head, from the urethra to the ridge. The weightiness of the head was back in his mind when his tongue bounced it from below the head before it reentered his mouth.

All of these details were noted by Floshem.

He kept his teeth clear from contact. Whether that was from the knowledge of pain Floshem could deliver to his crew or because he simply didn't want to bite was nebulous.

"Stop."

The order knocked Ulfric back to reality. He realized how he treated his rapist's cock and it left him disgusted. He could only wish his body shared the same sentiment. His pale cheeks deepened its red color when he looked up at Floshem.

"Lick and kiss my entire length."

Ulfric cringed, about to spout another wave of vitriol, but decided against it. He moved closer to the base of Floshem's cock and started his task. His left open mouthed kisses and glided his tongue over and under the cock as he moved from the base back to the head.

Floshem couldn't help but notice Ulfric's pacing. While he was trying out giving head for the first time, it was fast and desperate to finish. But the way he took his time worshiping his penis was slow, as if cherishing the moment. Floshem kept silent lest the nord decide to crank the pace up. He wanted to savor the sight.

Ulfric's mouth and tongue covered the entire length in spit from base to head. When he came back to the head, he gobbled it up only to bob his head a few times before moving back down to the base, but on the other side, licking and kissing the hard flesh along the way.

His hands stayed on the elf's lap, but the desire to pump his own cock was fierce. It was only through a shred of focus did Ulfric not commit to the act. Intellectually, he knew this was getting out of hand. The thought was reinforced when he moved underneath the elven cock to lick the balls. The full weight of Floshem's member rested on his face as he began leaving open-mouthed kisses along the underside. He came to the head once more and opened his mouth, but this time allowing more meat inside. Deep enough it touched his uvula and made him gag.

This was wrong, Ulfric knew. What had happened to his resolve to stay strong, to not become this elf's mindless puppet? He knew his tongue-bathing of the cock within his mouth was incredibly inappropriate, but his lust did not care for what was right or wrong. It was a selfish emotion that demanded attention and action. And it demanded to satisfy the man before him.

Ulfric had lost himself in giving head. It was a new experience. He had been with a number of women before, tasted their sweat-laden skin through kisses before, but nothing prepared him for this. It was like tasting a new exotic dish. He just wanted to devour it.

Did this mean he was into men as well? What a poor time to find that out now.

It shouldn't have pleased Ulfric when he finally heard the immovable Floshem sigh from his efforts. He should have felt victorious, like he finally pulled one over the elf who had done nothing but humiliate him at every corner. But his mind registered something differently. It was a kind of pleasure he felt in knowing he pleased his partner.

This man was not his partner, however. He was his rapist, molester, torturer. He should not want him pleased.

So why was he gagging himself on his thick cock?

Floshem had the decency to blush upon seeing his nordic slave put more of his penis in his mouth. It was light reddening on his cheeks however. The sounds of the famous jarl choke himself on his weapon of a baby maker was the second biggest thing permeating the room.

The first was Ulfric's growing, unwanted desire to be filled.

His virgin mouth could only five inches before he had to retract. A steady, solid motion of his head gave Floshem a lot to witness. His wanton lust, his newfound desire for cock. He wondered what else he could see from him.

Both hands slowly but firmly gripped the back of Ulfric's head, to which the nord noted with the half opening of his eyes. But they bulged out in shock when the five inches in his mouth turned to ten when it was shoved down his throat. He resisted as expected, but the drugs in his system continued to render him boneless. The shaft, stiff yet bendable, moved into his throat. Ulfric constricted on instinct, making the dick inside him feel even bigger.

The bodily action only brought Floshem more pleasure. Ulfric less so, or so he thought. His penis bulged. If Ulfric could look down, he would not even recognize the penis he had. It dripped with so much precum, it was a shock it had not ejaculated yet.

Ulfric's hands flew to Floshem's pants when the elf began to shove his cock in and out of his throat. Its length meant it took time for it to fully escape his mouth, but Floshem wasted no time in returning. Ulfric's body continued to play as the elf's unwilling sex toy as his throat contracted every time the shaft entered. Saliva dripped out his mouth with each thrust, coating his chin.

Ulfric felt the urge to bite emerge more vividly, but it was quickly squashed down the more he learned to accommodate the cock deep-throating his virgin mouth. He gripped Floshem's pants tightly as he fought the need to let go and submit. He won, but only for now. Even so, his body relaxed enough so that he wouldn't have to worry about choking to death and to fully take in the lewd actions before him.

The nerves in Floshem's cock flared as the feeling of entering and leaving the velvet mouth intensified with each thrust. His ball kicked into high gear, preparing a load of epic proportions.

"Do not swallow immediately."

Ulfric barely heard him before the deep-throating stopped. Floshem allowed half of his member to quickly piston itself in only Ulfric's mouth. The nord picked up what was about to happen from the pulsing he felt from Floshem's cock. A twinge of disgust swelled in him, but the lust-addled part of his mind was curious. Borderline hungry for the load ready to be dumped in his mouth.

He hated himself for the thought.

Floshem pulled his saliva-coated cock. Ulfric's mouth remained open, even when Floshem did not direct him to. His eyes partially closed, his tongue darted out and flicked against the flaming hot head of Floshem's cock. 'Had I caused that? No wonder my mouth was so warm.' His tongue continued to tease his rapist, trying to draw out the sticky reward from within him. For added measure, Ulfric's tongue even played with the tiny slit in the head, drawing another, albeit quiet, sigh from Floshem.

The elf meanwhile pumped his steely rod and felt the build up edge closer and closer. He tightened his grip, moving his length more roughly.

With Ulfric and Floshem's combined efforts, Floshem's cock spurted ropes of hot cum on the nord's awaiting test buds. He shouldn't have been surprised, but when his cum first hit his tongue, Ulfric flinched and a moan escaped his throat. He dared not disobey the elf and begrudgingly let his cum pool in the little bowl that was his curved tongue.

There was so much cum it dripped out his mouth. It was startlingly hot and it made the rebel leader wonder how much the elf lusted after him. Was there more behind his story than just curiosity? Did he seek him out because he was backed up and couldn't stand the dry spell any longer?

Those thoughts shouldn't have made his heart race faster.

His heated breathing left his open mouth. Most of his seed was on his tongue, but some shot beyond and down his throat. It slid down slowly due to its thick consistency. The taste left Ulfric perplexed, however. He knew ejaculate was bitter and salty, the women he had been with said as much, but there was more to Floshem's seed than just bitterness. There was fruity aftertaste as well, like bananas or apples.

It was overall varied and it left the nord's mind and body even more conflicted.

Floshem, meanwhile, studied his captive's reactions. Judging from his half-lidded eyes, trembling body, and heavy breathing, the lust drug was nearing its apex. It shouldn't take too much for the jarl to acquiesce to his body's needs. Anything could happen, however. Ulfric Stormcloak was no mere man; the amount of drugs in his system suggested as such. There was was still a chance for him to hold on, a sight Floshem would not be disappointed to see.

"Swallow."

Ulfric's nodded, his eyes glazed over looking almost mindless. His mouth closed, and he let the spunk slide down his mouth and through his throat. His neck bobbed, indicating he swallowed. When all the elf's cum had finally entered his stomach, Ulfric panted, as if the swallowing was akin to fighting an hour long battle without rest.

He blinked, trying his best to wipe away the neediness twisting in his stomach. Did Floshem do something to his semen? It felt as if the lust within him had doubled in power. It nearly conquered him, warped him, but he fought back. This was the same mind that withstood hours of torture by the Thalmor. He refused to believe he would croak so easily.

At the same time though, the high elves got what they wanted out of him in the end. They were patient. He hated that the elf before him was the same.

Ulfric's took a glance at his aforementioned tormentor and gaped. His cock was still hard, as if his mouth had no affect. 'Most men would soften after blowing such a tremendous loud. Just what will satiate this damn elf?!'

The answer doubled his dread.

"On the bed." the altmer dictated. "On your hands and knees."

As if his body was hit by the Thu'um, Ulfric was devastated. He knew all this foreplay would lead to this, but he had hoped it would not.

On trembling legs Ulfric stood. Somehow he was able to make the short distance without falling down. The furs of the bed were Skyrim-made, not like the furs imported from the Citadel. He took immense comfort in this small detail. It would at least remind him why he was going along with this.

His arms rested beside both sides of the pillow. His legs were bent at a perfect ninety degree angle, but crossed his ankles. His eyes were shut tight, but his head was up. He may have been put into a degrading pose, but he refused to bow his head to an altmer.

Meanwhile, Floshem fixed his pants a bit. He still exposed his mighty cock, but was able to keep his pants on. The room was still fairly chilly and he had no desire to disrobe. Maybe next time.

Ulfric's body was too hot to notice the room's temperature. His heart pumped hot and oxygen-rich blood throughout his body. He has never felt so sensitive and alert, yet so weak at the same time. The drugs worked too well, Ulfric dreadfully thought. He had thought himself resistant, but looking back, the number of times he was drugged was very few despite his high position. There weren't as many occasions to build a suitable immunity.

The bed creaked as Floshem settled behind Ulfric. The elf palmed the white bottom before him. Ulfric gripped his pillow, but showed no other reactions. Every part of his body felt too delicate to touch. The groping wasn't even rough, yet it still sent unwelcomed feelings throughout Ulfric's body.

The rebel's crossed legs were underneath the elf between his open legs. His clothed thighs settled against his bare thighs and butt. A visible shiver ravaged Uflric when Floshem's cock rested between his ass cheeks. Still slick with saliva, some parts glued themselves to Ulfric's skin. His body took immediate interest, his lubed asshole fluttering and begging to be stuffed.

But Floshem took his time, taking interest in how Ulfric was reacting. He pulled back and placed the head on Ulfric's hole. The nord took a sharp breathe, to which Floshem noticed. He did not start pushing however, simply resting it before the fleshy passage while taking a hold of his victim's waist.

"I suggest you relax."

"As if... anyone can... in this situation." The nord hated how his voice became laced with need. It belittled what little sanity he had left.

"You should. It will hurt more if you don't ease your muscles." the elf stated.

Ulfric was no stranger to pain, but he begrudgingly followed the order. Cut and bruises were one thing, but this was a shameful and intimate kind of pain. It was even worse since his ass was never touched before today.

Ulfric's ass loosened up just the same as the rest of his body. The elf did not descend yet, which he was thankful for. It gave him time to mentally prepare for the foreign experience. 'It should be fine.' he consulted himself. Men did this to other men and they came out walking fine. Even though the elf was well-endowed, it shouldn't cripple him too much. Just some pain, humiliation, and that's it. It wouldn't be like his interrogation. There were no blades, clubs or magic used to dispense the torture.

Only another man's member. He just had to outlast him.

After some seconds, Floshem began to slowly drive his hips forward. Ulfric did his best to relax as he felt the chubby head poke him harder and harder, until finally, his hole was breached. The head, glossed up from precum and saliva, glided easily enough in the lubricated hole.

Ulfric groaned loudly as the head entered him. 'It's too thick!' It was like club was being pushed into him. It was too foreign, too wide for a virgin like him to take. He open his mouth to object, but Floshem just shoved more inches into him, reducing his words into jumbles of quiet curses and groans.

Ulfric thought it sadistic to be so slow, but Floshem would disagree. He found the sight of Ulfric taking his cock in the ass beyond what he imagined. A turn on even.

Even as the elf's big dick fully entered and Floshem's hips touched Ulfric's ass, the nord did not stop his mumbles and cursing. The dick pushed against his prostate so hard, Ulfric thought it pierced his guts. He actually started to fear whether he could walk again after this.

Floshem's audible delight brought Ulfric equal parts anger and unwanted desire. "Hmmm," he sighed. "You are quite tight."

With the way he stretched to the point of discomfort, he must have been. Ulfric cursed, panting insult after insult at the his rapist of an elf. "I will castrate you... I will enact a vengeance so harsh, you will beg me for-"

He stopped with a series of groans and moans as Floshem then started to rock against him, gently easing a couple inches of himself out before snapping back in. The thrusting came a light speed, just so that either of them can get used to the feeling.

"Aaaah... AH!... Ughhh..."

Ulfric's ass rested against Floshem's groin as the elf, with his hands still on his captive's waist, rolled and twisted against Ulfric's lower body, the dick inside him grinding against every inch of flesh within. The maneuver left Ulfric wide-eyed and drooling opposed to his consent.

Ulfric knew it was pleasure, but a different kind of one. One that came with a immense dose of pain that bleed into pleasure. The sensations jumbled together, making them near indistinguishable from each other.

He did not beg, thank the divine, but he feared he would. He tried to keep his mouth shut, but the sensitivity granted by the drug in his system made him voice himself. And since he also had a muscle-weakening drug, he couldn't find the strength to keep his mouth shut.

The grinding came to a stop when Floshem quickly, yet harshly, pulled all but the penis head out before driving himself back in. It was like his insides were being punched and gouged. It forced Ulfric' to groan even louder. The same treatment was repeated. flooring Ulfric to his pillow as the elf excavated his ass with a monster's cock. He couldn't find his voice then. Any words of releasement were reduced to heated mutters. Ulfric's own cock was straining against it self. He refused to fall victim to this twisted pleasure

It was too much. The pain, the pleasure. He wanted it to stop. He wanted to punch the elf so badly.

But he was at his mercy. The only thing being punched was his prostate.

The harsh treatment did not last long, but before the rebel leader could appreciate the reprieve, the elf was tenderizing his butt with firm slapping. Nowhere near the same power as before, but still a shock to feel. Ulfric, despite every reason to not see the man behind him, turned his head with half-covered eyes. Resting his left half of his face on the pillow, his right eye stared at Floshem in pure contempt... before it bleed away.

The elf was sweating from the effort he was exerting, which only enhanced his kingly features. His mouth, open wider than it had when Ulfric was giving him head, sighed at a greater volume. Their eyes suddenly locked, and Ulfric was mortified his hole tightened from the mere act.

Floshem's blue eyes were abnormal among elven kind, but they definitely stood out. Ulfric too had blue eyes, but they weren't as striking as the elf's. The way they gripped you demanded attention. They were clear and bright, as if he stared at the cleanest lake in the world. They were a beauty most would kill for.

And those same eyes were on him. Appraising. Studying...

Lusting.

The extra tightness forced another sigh out of Floshem. "Don't look away." he then commanded as his thrusting deepened in energy. They were neither too hard or soft, fast or languid, but they reached the depths of his hole and pressed against his prostate with firmness.

The continued eye contact and the thrusting nearly drove Ulfric insane. Why wasn't the elf driven to a lustful frenzy? Not that he wanted that, but most people would get lost in the pleasure. He was nearly losing to the pleasure, and he hated that it was on full display for his tormentor to see.

Another touch to his prostate made rebel-turned-bottom shut his eyes. He couldn't do it. His eyes were too much. His insides couldn't handle what they might've held.

Floshem didn't reprimand him. He shrugged but continued his pace. No other words or commands were spoken between them as they took their intimacy in different directions.

Truthfully, Ulfric did better than Floshem had thought. He thought he would have submitted in the middle of the blowjob, but that wasn't the case. The man's resolve was stronger than most of his past dalliances, which he did respect.

That didn't mean he wasn't feeling anything. Oh no, quite the opposite. The harsh cursing and moaning practically confirmed Ulfric's enjoyment. Not intellectually or emotionally, but physically. The both of them couldn't deny his body was boiling from the inside out, just waiting for him to pop from the new stimuli.

Ulfric yelped when he was suddenly pushed down, his entire body pressed against the furs of the bed as Floshem slammed in and out of him. His head nearly banged the headboard as he was forced to accommodate the position change. He pressed his face into his pillow as a new wave of endorphins hit him. Not only was his ass being abused, but the thrusting was forcing the front of his body to rub against the fur bed. His stiffness was already dripping with need from just anal; the rubbing just made it worse and Ulfric knew it.

'Stop... Stop it...' Even though he knew he was being forced, even though he knew this was wrong, his couldn't help but enjoy Floshem's cock. It pained his pride to admit it - even more so that it was for an altmer bastard - but he can get used to this kind of pleasure. Losing a measure of control in place of submission was something Ulfric hadn't thought he'd enjoy. He always had to be the man with a plan, the experienced soldier and general, and a beacon of freedom to so many. Perhaps... letting loose every once and a while wasn't so bad.

He just wished he didn't have to raped to realize that.

Floshem's arms were outstretched and supported his upper body, his hands underneath Ulfric's armpits. He lowered them all as his placed his mouth beside the nord's ear.

"Cum for me."

The low baritone of his voice made Ulfric's soul quiver. He could so easily turn his head, but he was glued to his position. Muffled refusals poured out, which Floshem did hear and comprehend, but kept repeating the words in the same low but firm tone. His thrusting lowered in intensity, but was still maintained a solid pace as half of the cock left and reentered the nord.

"Damn you... to Oblivion... elf..."

And damn his own cock for enjoying this torment! He had keep his ejaculate in check lest he fully submit, but forcing his cock to keep from spraying made his ass tighten as a result. The already large elven cock was made even larger within the confines of his one virgin asshole.

No matter what he did, he was going to submit. The elf was forcing him to orgasm and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. Despair would've erupted from that realization, but the dull pain and ass-fucking swept them away.

"Get out... Get out of me..."

An elongated moan left Ulfric's mouth when Floshem slipped a hand under him and pinched his nipple. His abdomen twisted even further and Ulfric's vision turned spotty. His mind turned, once focus on staying cognitive and defiant, now on the impeding wave of euphoria coming. His cock was hurting and his ass was tingling. His nerves and sensations had been enslaved, a reality he refused to accept until now.

He still held on however, despite it all. Floshem cocked an eyebrow up when his moans became louder and unrestrained, but not once did he feel the nord completely unravel. 'Hmmm... Perhaps he is subconsciously holding himself back so we can cum together?' It was merely a theory, one that will need further-

"AH! STOP! STOP! PLEASE! AAAAHHH!"

Or maybe not. "Oh? Why is that?"

The blonde's eyes were shut tight, but he can see tears down his cheeks. He clenched his nipple again. "Cum for me, Ulfric Stormcloak. Bask in the pleasure of what I give."

He was hanging by a thread. Ulfric knew it would snap soon, but he wanted to prolong the inevitable regardless. He feared just looking at him any longer would make his mind snap like a twig, so he purposefully blinded himself to the perversion of his body.

It would prove to be his undoing.

Because Floshem kissed him.

His eyes flexed open to find the elf staring right back at him with the same unempathetic eyes, but his mouth was thing Ulfric focused on. Lip to lip, their tongues danced with each other with Floshem's as the dominant partner. The pink appendage invaded every crevice of his mouth, flicking and gliding across his gums and molars.

He would have chomped down on if it wasn't for the mind-blowing orgasm.

Moans and denials flowed from his clogged mouth as his penis spurted against his will, staining the furs and his stomach in the process. It was greatest feeling Ulfric ever experienced in any type of sexual intimacy, leaving the man stunned. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as his tongue mindlessly tried to obtain dominance over Floshem's to no avail.

'He taste like berries...'

How long it took for Ulfric to complete spilling ropes of sperm was up in the air, only that while in the process, his hole tightened to its very limit. Floshem's stamina had proven to be godly, but pleasure still affected him like any other man. His movement doubled in severity, slamming his cock inside the convulsing nord's ass. His own orgasm hit him, sounded off by a grunt.

Whatever reasonable part of Ulfric took detailed notes of filling sensation, and summed it with, 'Too much! Too hot!' The small space that Floshem's cock left filled as the hot white ejaculate was emptied inside him, expanding his hole by a small, but noticeable margin. And the warmth was like liquid fire, burning flesh wherever it touched. His already sensitive ass couldn't handle this new sensation.

Yet to the rebel's horror, his own member spurted a couple more ropes in response.

"AH! AH! AH! Stop... Please...!"

Despite emptying what felt like buckets inside him, the elf hasn't softened one bit and kept on ramming his cock. The drugs in his system still affected him, and his body was beyond delicate than any time before, especially now that he came. 'I cannot even lift a finger against you... Have mercy!' For the sake of his body, for the sake of his shrinking rationality, he wanted it to stop.

But...

"Please... Please... Please.." Ulfric was ravaged by pleasure. He could already feel another orgasm building. Gone was his pride and - as much as he loathed to admit - gone was his thoughts of his men. There was only two things on his mind: the godly cock rearranging his guts, and preservation of his sanity.

No amount of begging could make Floshem stop. This was just the beginning for him. He could last for far longer than just a couple orgasms. It was one of the reasons why he was such an efficient lover.

Did he feel pity for Ulfric's current state? Perhaps. Did he feel guilty at all? Not really. He got what he wanted in the end and then some. The only thing he would've felt bad about was if it all failed. Plus, it was Ulfric Stormcloak of all people. There is a lot of people who would agree with him that, while his treatment of the nord was cruel, it is understandable and even deserved for what he plunged Skyrim into. Killing High King Torygg instead of talking about possible independence? Pitting your own people against each other that will only weaken the country in the end - especially when the Aldmerri Dominion is awaiting the next coming of the Great War?

What kind of leader doesn't think about this stuff?

Not that Floshem felt personally offended. While he will admit Skyrim is his home - for the moment - he didn't feel any personal connections to the country. He can easily move back to the Summerset Isles if things get too dicey. It was just that, logically speaking, Ulfric Stormcloak forced SKyrim to its knees. That warrants punishment - something Floshem did not mind dealing out.

"AAAAAHHHHH!"

Floshem had not left his body since insertion. Ulfric had lost track of time, primarily due to the unending barrage of pleasure he was forced to go through. His will to fight back in any regard had diminished greatly. He had begged, pleaded, and bargained with his captor to no avail, only to confront the daunting reality that this was his life now.

As an elf's plaything.

Meant to be used however he sees fit.

It crushed him. With every moan he was reminded of his failure; of his submission; of his desire. He hated himself for falling to a cock of all things. He wanted to scream, fight, and resist - he truly did - but the will to do so left with every thrust, every orgasm, and every filling.

He didn't want to admit it, but he craved the Floshem's touch. His own cock had gone numb from how many times he was forced to cum, and he hated that it was so forcefully drawn from him. His entire body felt weightless - he can barely stand on his own. His hole and thighs dripped his seed, only to be refilled once more. He came more times than him though, so he can't even say he outlasts him.

'I can't... Skyrim... She needs me... My men need me...' He screamed out in ecstasy when he felt another load pump into him. He laid bent over the table, Floshem behind him finishing another grueling yet satisfying round.

The bottles and vials were near him and he knew he could thrown them in Floshem face to blind him. He had tried, but the altmer merely held his wrist down - with minimal effort. He had thought the elf was going to start again, but to his immense shock, he slipped out of him and left the room. Most horrifyingly, for Ulfric, his hole quiver for the elf's return and it reverberated throughout his body.

It couldn't have taken more than a couple minutes for Floshem to return. Ulfric's glazed eyes looked up, and paused. In his hand was a bottle of pink fluorescent liquid - the same stuff that drugged him.

But he had used twice the dosage before, right?! Any more and it would... do something bad, Ulfric had no clue, but they say the difference between poisons and medicine was dosage.

"No... I beg of you... I can't..." his voice was hoarse, overused from his exclamations of denial and needy lust.

"I think you'll appreciate this batch." Floshem set the bottle down and scooped some of the contents. It was thicker than the one he used on Ulfric, like jelly. He then coated his cock with it as Ulfric tried to muster the urge to run.

The pink jelly glowed as Floshem placed the head before the hole. "Ah..." Just from the meager touch, Ulfric reacted. He needed to run. If that dick entered him again covered in whatever vile creation the elf concocted, he was going to lose-

Floshem was balls-deep in a second.

There was no noise. No sound from the conflicted and defeated nord. But Floshem did not need words to confirm his thought. He hole tightened, almost to the point he thought it would tear, and Ulfric's sperm hit the floor, cumming just from insertion.

"Talos... save me..."

"I'll give you land... I'll-I'll make you the richest man in Skyrim! Just please - please let me go!"

"Hm... I think not."

Floshem had granted him the break he desired, mostly to let his ass rest and settle back in place so he can spread it wide again later. But the elf was not satisfied and pressed his cum-covered member against Ulfric's lips.

While he was initially disgusted about gobbling up something that was previously in his own ass, his heart thumped against his ribcage at the sight of the glorious member before him. Even after cumming so much, it was still a force to be reckoned with.

'This is wrong...' Ulfric made no more fuss and swallowed half of the meat in his mouth. 'This is disgusting...' He swallowed the cum on the surface and deep-throated the rest. He has never swallowed so sweet, so desirable. 'I should bite him... Make him bleed and suffer...'

The closet he came was a teasing nibble on the thick head before allowing it spray seed down his throat.

"Please... Please..."

No falser words could be spoken from the noble jarl's mouth. Laid on his back, eyes shut as Floshem plowed at his ass, he couldn't even convince himself he wanted out. He moaned yet again, his cock shuddering and shooting sperm up to his chin. He can barely tell he would ejaculate, his member was that numb.

Ulfric felt accomplished despite the humiliatingly intimate position. He was able to get Floshem to pull down his hood, so that was a win in his book.

His ass sensed the pulsing from Floshem cock and he swayed his head in continued denial. "No more... Not inside... Please..."

'Do it... Dump it all inside me...'

The dark corners of his mind demanded he submit and just enjoy the feeling. He was close to. It was just his body and mind weren't one.

He felt nauseous from the knowledge that another man's seed swirled inside him, but he craved the perversion. He wanted that thick, sticky load to paint his inside white, to take all his burdens and thoughts and turn them into mush. His ass was just begging to be abused more.

Ask and you shall receive because the white nord's ass was pumped full of white once more. Even as Ulfric begged for no more, even as his hands attempted to push Floshem off, they were all a farce. A thin disguise to hide his true desires, no matter how dark and twisted they were.

The altmer knew this, so he did little more than grab Ulfric's ankles and started thrust more viscously.

"You did far better than I thought you would. I suppose I will need to treat you for being so obedient."

No one but himself heard those words. Ulfric Stormcloak, the great leader of the Stormcloak rebellion, finally collapsed from exhaustion. After Divine knows how long, one final dose of sperm in his butt knocked him out. 'He must have been pent up if he was willing to stay awake that long.' the elf hypothesized.

Still, he was quite satisfied with the results. "I will need to utilize that combination of solutions. They were quite effective." Indeed, his cock has never been this satisfied with a man before today. Now he simply must stay with him. Ulfric Stormcloak was too good a catch to just sell.

A waterfall of cum spilled from Ulfric's ass with a thick consistency. If he were a woman, he would be baring his child for sure.

He paused at the thought.

"Hmmm... Perhaps I have a serum for just that." Or he could make one if he doesn't. Either way, an interesting idea to note.

A break was in order, perhaps some tea and snacks before he lets loose on Ulfric once more. Before he did so, he walked up to a naked wall outside Ulfric's room and pushed one particular stone. A passage way opened up, showing a downward staircase.

After traveling that flight of stairs, faint breathing could be heard from further down the hall. Another short walk and one opened door later, and Floshem witnessed the rest of Ulfric's hunting party in their own form of debauchery. All stripped of their clothes and weapons, the two women were the center of attention for their four other male companions.

They laid trapped in a room similar to Ulfric's just with two more beds and no tables. Normally his captives wouldn't be committing such stuff in a kidnapping, but that mostly had to do with the fact they were drugged the same as their leader.

The redguard woman had some impressive stamina, just not the same as Ulfric's. Her eyes were still opened, though close to closing, as her pussy and ass were taken at once by the elderly nord and the brunette. 'Redguards sure are passionate lovers.' Floshem commented, seeing the woman almost scream from the double penetration. She was main source of the noise in the room.

The toned redhead nord was in the middle of the middle-aged and young adult men, one busying himself with her womanhood, the other with her mouth. Her muffled moans suggest her physical enjoyment.

They were at this a bit longer than he and Ulfric, but probably with a few breaks in between. They didn't quite match up to them no matter how much they tried.

He stayed true to his words, however; he did tell Ulfric his men were safe, just not in the way he possibly imagined. He initially drugged them simply because he was bored of waiting for his target to wake up, but now he most certainly did not regret his actions. They made quite the entertainment.

"You damn altmer..." the redguard finally took note of him unlike her fellow warriors. "Release us." She tried her best to sound imposing, but it failed on delivery due to the whorish look on her face.

Floshem said nothing, but did concede that he would need to stop them. Potential buyers would be on their way and he needed to doll them up. It would do no good for them to be presented covered in sweat and other secretions.

But, then again, if he sold them, Ulfric would get antsy and not be so inclined to obey him. They did look attractive, Floshem will admit, but the missed profits would certainly be disappointing.

He exited and locked the door behind him. "Dilemmas, dilemmas, dilemmas..."