The Daedra's Dragonborn (Stream Story)
Commissioned by FA: Dredmart during the elder scrolls stream, we have a story of an Argonian Dragonborn getting WAY over his head, and paying quite a price for it.
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The Daedra's Dragonborn
For Dredmart
By Draconicon
Derium grumbled as he stumbled back around a corner, pressing himself up against the wall. The Dragonborn had been expecting a dragon on the mountaintop, but he hadn't been expecting it quite that...close.
The Argonian poked his head around the corner, and just as quickly pulled it back, shaking his head. He'd seen right the first time; an ancient dragon, at least thirty feet long, and looking more than a little angry at having to share the mountain with any other living being. Charred remains burned around the cave, some still on fire, others long since blown to ash.
He looked down at the sword at his waist, an enchanted blade that he'd made himself weeks ago. Up until now, he'd been very proud of Lightning...but against that thing, it might as well have been a tiny wooden toy.
I need more help to deal with that thing...
Taking a few steps away from the cave mouth and the hellscape it had taken on, Derium started rooting through his scrolls. He wasn't much of a mage, but he knew that he had some useful things. At least, so the College had told him during the appraisal. Now he was starting to wish he hadn't sold off all of the most valuable ones.
Shuffling through them, he eventually came to a darkened one, slightly burnt along one side. Derium cocked his head to the side, shuffling the band that held it closed off and unrolling it.
Spell of summoning...Eh, probably an imp or something, but - a dremora?!
His eyes went wide at the word listed halfway down the page. While there were stronger daedric creatures out there, most of them would never respond to a base summoning spell, and the dremoras were definitely stronger than he had expected to see. Most summons were useful as distractions, at best, while dremoras...
"This might just give me a chance..."
Knowing better than to waste time, Derium started whispering the spell. In seconds, the letters started burning with the power of the arcane, but he kept reading. The scroll started to flare up in his hands, burning his fingers, but he kept going, not daring to stop. Further, further, the image of an armored creature building up in his mind until -
FLASH!
The scroll disappeared, and in its place was the summoned...
"MORTAL! YOU BRING ME TO THE FROZEN NORTH, WITHOUT EVEN A FIRE OF WELCOME!"
"...You must be joking..."
When he had seen dremoras before, they were projected as the armored soldiers of Mehrunes Dagon, the Prince of Destruction. Armored in plate, armed with maces and longswords that would spell the doom of most any soldier that came against them, they were a menacing sight.
This one, on the other hand...Derium had never seen a daedra come to their world with nothing but a loincloth on, let alone one that looked like they'd been engaging in some sort of...carnality...in the other world during the magic summoning them. The Argonian looked up and away from the bulge in the daedra's loincloth, clearing his throat.
"By the power of the summoning spell, I ask your aid. There -"
"YOU ASK NOTHING, MORTAL! YOU COMMAND, OR YOU GET NOTHING!"
"This...isn't how it works."
"IT IS WITH ONE OF MY POWER!"
The constant shouting was making his ears ache, and...and at the same time, was making him fearful. He nodded, trying to clear his throat and speak, but before he could, the demon grabbed him by the shoulder.
"KNEEL, MORTAL!"
He went to his knees before he could stop himself, the fear - and something else - building up inside of him. Derium shuddered; he'd never felt like this before, never felt this afraid in front of a dragon. Why did this...creature...leave him with the need to obey?
As the dremora walked around him, Derium got a better and better look at the creature's body. Dark red and black were the colors of his skin, and they seemed to run in cracks down his body. Yet, the body itself - or at least the legs, as above the waist was out of sight and the other parts weren't in view - were quite well formed. Derium found himself tracing the lines of the daedra's muscles with his eyes for almost a minute before he caught himself.
What's wrong with me? I don't...
"MORTAL!"
He snapped back to attention, looking up. There was a...a haze, for lack of a better term, around the daedra. It seemed to come off of him like heat off of hot stone, a shimmer in the air. And he was in it, the Argonian realized.
"MORTAL. REMOVE YOUR ARMOR!"
His hands started moving before he could stop himself, reaching for the snaps and ties that held his armor on. He froze as his breastplate was about to fall off, trying to shake his head. The dremora growled.
"YOU WILL OBEY, MORTAL!"
"Y-yes!"
He couldn't stop himself. It wasn't even fear, anymore; it was more like he couldn't stand the idea of disobeying an order. The breastplate came off, and then the armor along his arms. His legs were bared next, and then his feet, his boots joining the pile on the very top. The only thing that remained was his loincloth, but as he reached for it, the dremora grabbed his wrists.
"NO. YOU WILL CONTINUE TO WEAR THIS. THIS WILL BE YOUR MARK."
"Mark...mark of what?"
"SERVITUDE."
Derium was lifted off of his feet before he knew what was happening, shoved against the wall and pinned in place. He heard the shimmer of magic, and his eyes went wide as something sliced at the back of his loincloth. The cold mountain air blew over his ass, running under his tail and between the cheeks, nudging his hole with the frozen breeze.
"I -"
"SILENCE!"
The daedra was on him in seconds, hot hands against his shoulders and that broad, bare chest against his back. Derium could hardly think as the creature's bulge rubbed up against his backside, grinding against his rump until it was hard enough to slide between his cheeks. Cloth-covered steel rubbed against his hole, and the Argonian - despite never submitting this way before - slowly bent forward, pushing back against it.
His summons chuckled behind him, one hot hand grabbing his rump, squeezing the scales. He felt his ass cheeks get parted, and this time, it wasn't cloth rubbing against him as the dremora slid forward. Derium shivered, the heat of that strange, hard shaft so different, so alien to him, yet so enticing at the same time.
A part of the Argonian knew that there was something wrong, that the magic shouldn't work like this, but at the same time, there was something wonderful about it. Something about this submission, this need to serve...
Suddenly, the hard, thick head of the daedra's cock pushed forward, forcing its way inside of him. The Argonian's claws sunk into the rock, dragging shrilly against it as that hard, thick shaft pushed deeper and deeper inside of him. It burned as it went in, but in a good way, stretching him out as it went deeper and deeper.
"YOU WILL SUBMIT. YOU CANNOT COMMAND, SO INSTEAD, YOU WILL SERVE!"
"I will...serve..."
Yes, yes, service felt good. He could feel a sense of satisfaction as that cock went further and further inside of him, filling him up to the brim. It felt massive, positively huge, and as it rubbed at his inner walls, he could feel his own cock throbbing. It ground and rubbed against the front of his loincloth, sandwiched between it and his crotch. He could feel himself leaking already, making the front of his underclothes wet and clingy, rubbing against his crotch with every slow thrust back and forth.
The Argonian panted, feeling it get worse and worse for him. He pushed back, desperate for more of the dremora's cock, even as his own begged for attention. And it got it. As he slid back and forth, on and off of that hellish shaft, he could feel his own grinding against his underthings, rubbing back and forth, feeling that wet cloth rubbing against the head and shaft of his cock. Derium bit his lip, but soon he couldn't quite hold back his moans.
Panting and gasping, he lifted one leg up, putting it against a rock to let the dremora claim him further, take him harder. And his request was granted, his summons leaning against him and humping in hard and deep, pressing every little pleasurable spot as he went.
Even the sound of hard, heavy footsteps in the distance couldn't distract him. Derium, the Dragonborn, hunter and slayer of over a dozen dragons, panted like a cheap whore as he was fucked, his tight loincloth dripping with his pre as he bounced back and forth. He needed that cock. Needed that cum. Needed to -
He moaned again, louder than ever as he was pushed over the edge. His cock throbbed and twitched as the dremora continued fucking him, forcing his cum out into his loincloth. It was rapidly drenched and soaked in his own seed, filled to the point where it clung to his cock and left it completely visible to everyone and anything. The Argonian moaned, shuddering, his legs shaking as he tried to catch his balance, to recover and -
"YOU WILL SERVE."
Suddenly thrown to the snow, Derium tried to pull himself to his feet, only to get pinned down under the dremora's heel. His loincloth was ripped off and shoved over his face, the musky, slimy, wet front of his jockstrap against his nose and lips. The rich scent filled his head, and he could only stare straight ahead as the ancient dragon stepped into view.
It glanced down at the both of them, chuckling to itself, before speaking.
"This mortal...is broken."
"THE DRAGONBORN WILL NO LONGER FIGHT. INSTEAD, HE WILL SERVE."
"Hmmph. Then serve a dragon, as he should."
The dremora shoved him forward, and Derium looked up. The dragon had stepped forward, and from beneath came a shaft that was nearly his own size. He stared at it...
And his mouth watered.
The End