Journal of The One-Eyed Dragon Entry 2
Author's Note : These Entries are in no particular order, the given numbers are merely the order in which they were posted. This story should not be read if you are under the age of consent. If you are easily offended, or bothered, do not read this as it is based off a game that is a Mature rating. There will be acts of violence, rape, criminal negligance, and other dark themes. I do not own Oblivion and make no money off of this. This is purely fanmade and for personal ejoyment, of which I decided to share with the community.
These are the tales of He-With-One-Eye. A Shadowscale Argonian born of the Black Marsh. Imprisoned falsely, thanks to a lying Khajiit. He-With-One-Eye is often called The One-Eyed Dragon, or the Scarred Dragon. It could be because of his brutal nature in battle and even cruller tendencies when it came to getting what he wanted, or the fact he had lost his right eye to some unknown, or rather: untold accident. He was forced into the Imperial Province, but by some fortune of luck, he escaped prison on the blood of the last Septim.
How Quaint.
Entry 2
I arrived in Cheydinhal after speeding my way out of the sewers. What kind of awful muck did those Imperials toss in there? Even the Goblins did not seem all that pleased and they usually enjoy hellholes like that. I honestly hated the scent of Imperials. The grasses here were so dry and I much would have rathered to stay in the lake, were it not infested with Slaughterfish. You don't see those kinds of disgusing animals in Black Marsh swamps! Filthy Imperials. I was burdened by a load of gear I picked up off a few bandits stupid enough to trifle with a son if Sithis. The guards glared at me as I entered the gates. I suppose black-scaled Saxhleel are not a common sight in this country. I do not travel in the open for your amsuement. I merely wait until the hand of Sithis calls for me.
I have trained since birth to kill and hunt in the shadows, becoming one with the darkness. Were it by my choice, you would be dead where you stood, blight spreading Imperials.
I was suprised there were so few beggers here, few enough that I needed not my hands to count them on. My talons clicked agianst the cobblestone streets as I strode toward my goal. It was a humble shope, and I stress humble, as it was wedged between the sardined structures called Imperial Homes. They were more like stacks of shitty crates on more shitty crates. I let it go for the time being. The shop was called Borba's Goods and Stores. I would have bet more than my pants had I known I would have guessed correctly an Orc ran the shop. Such a clever and original name... All I wore were the rags I had when I left the prison, well at least my pants, so as not to startle the softskins with my 'nudity', not that there was much else to see besides scales as black as the night.
I entered the shop and low-and-behold it was an Orc. Borba gra-Uzgash, to be correct. The shope was dimly lit, and stunk of the drunkards that hobbled in any given time of the day. As I sold my wares my sharp eyes cmae upon a darkly colored cowl. I could easily feel the magic pulsating from it. I motioned my claws toward the cowl, but the Orc was quick to clam up.
'That's not for sale Argonian.'
Argonian? Bloody whore knew not her manners it seemed. Such a foul, Imperialistic name. Should I call you Corrupt Elf than you green-fleshed mushroom? For that is what you are. A mere spawn of Boethia, feared for your warmongering and sheer stupidity that can only be matched by Imperials. But I wanted that cowl, so I would bide my time. I would leave the town and raid the nearby ruins and return with treasure. I was smart, I was clever. I was of course of the shadow and knew how to talk my way into and out of situations. I would get that cowl, buy that Orc's trust, literally.
Much of my coin went into saving for that cowl. I had plenty to sleep in the nearby inn, but that place stuck of death, I much preferred the grasses. While about I had come to know this beggar by the name of Bruccius the Orphan. He had a bedroll situated behind The March Rider, an armory taht I made note to take my blade to soon for repairs, it was duling. I had easily paid the fool a few shellings to allow me to rest on his bed during the night with him. I must admit it might have been all that time in prison, but even this Imperial was not as offending as most, with their sweat glands and what have you. It could have been due to the fact he slept outside so smelt of grass and dirt rather than ass and sweat. I had called to the beggar one night as we slept back to back. I was feeling particularly horny and was not quite prepared to risk myself in a yet known town. I have been here only three days. I had yet to explore all possible hiding places, namely that abandoned building out passed the market area.
'What is it?' He responded to me half asleep, scratchign some weyward itch.
I asked if he wanted to have a fuck. The Imperial was obviously put off, beggar or not. I than offered a good amount of coin if he just lent me his asshole for a while. He became a bit less reluctant after. It wasn't relaly something I could help. With no decent female around to deposit my seed in, so I hadda make due. I rolled around to look to the old beggar, who wisely kept his back to me. I told him to roll on his stomach, preferably on his hands and knees. He did so. I lowered his pants, and was a bit hesitant. I had to remember that mammals had their cocks and balls hanging out in fleshy sacks. After releasing a disgusted hiss I grabbed the old beggar's hips and began to ground my hips against his backside. He was stiff and clearly has never done such a thing before. Like I cared, he accepted the deal.
I had continued to grind my hips agianst him until my slit finally swelled and parted, freeing my hard cock from its internal prison. I would never understand why mammals would grow to have their junk hanging out so openly. That was just one more weakness to add ontop of their softskin and disease ridden bodies. Saxhleel as myself were little bothered by sickness, unless it was a sickness of unnatural standing... like Imperial-born vampirism.
I felt the pointed tip of my cock cry pre-cum as I rubbed the rock-hard rod of flesh between the old beggar's ass cheeks. I gripped his ass cheeks and and rubbed as much as I could over his puckered entrance. If it was his first go, it was gunna hurt like a bitch, and I honestly couldn't find it in me at the time to care. I just wanted a warm hole, and fast. I couldn't take much of that grinding for long, cause before I knew it my head had been sucked into that hot, tight paradise. I knew I was hissing up a storm, the warm reverberating feeling in my chest only spurred me on. I could hear the old man groan in pain and moan out at the intrusion, but if he didn't want it he wouldn't have said yes. It was jsut nice having that hot tunnel fist around my aching cock. I hadn't had a release in a while, if you can count that barely conscious Imperial many days earlier.
It didn't take much for me to start driving into that old man's hole. I'm not sure if he eventually found it pleasureable or not, but having something as big and thick as me in you, you'd cum too, hell I'd cum if I could shove my cock up my ass, but I can't, that's what he's there for, right? I could barely remember that night, don't know how long I stayed in that old man, I know he was limp and his belly was covered in his own cum by the end of it. My cock had released its load into his dead-end tunnel. Too bad he didn't have any eggs to fertilize, my boys would have liked that. I was no heartless brute though. I stayed in the old man after I finished and rolled us onto our sides. I kept my cock plugged in his ass, instinct mostly, making sure my seed took. I reached around his already cum soaked cock and took it in my hand, being careful of my claws.
For an old Imperial man he was pretty tough. He was rock hard again in moments. I felt his tight ass pulsing around my cock as I stimulated his fleshy little cock. I used my other hand to fondle that scrotum sack, Imperials liked it beign touched right? Had to have been cause he was fucking my fist like no tomorrow would come. I couldn't much help myself and started humping his hole, which still had my cock tightly nestled in it. All his muscles throbbing like that got me going agian. I pushed into him, driving my head as deep as it would go. He was moaning pretty loud, only hoped no one would call the guards on disturbing the peace or some shit. I made that old man cum pretty hard, cause his ass tightened around my cock hard enough that I came again. I released his quickly limping cock (still amazes me they keep theirs on the outside, reckless and freaky if you ask me) and grabbed his hips, not even caring if my claws dug into him. I thrust unto his tight ass, my instincts to breed buzzing and wanting me to drive deep into that willing hole.
Man I came hard, I know I did cause a good weight of that cum spurted right out his ass and all over my slit.
The old man mentioned something interesting to me though. After a good fuck, seems he was loose as all Oblivion and decided to tip me on this group that may be jsut up my alley. He had been watching me try and get that cowl from that damned Orc, and knew that most the shit I sold to her wasn't really just from the ruins.... Told me about some group called the Thief's Guild, figured it was something I could get behind and make a quick shilling. So it wasn't all bad eh? I gave the old man one last fuck before I decided to go to sleep. My cock stayed nestled in that tight ass all night.
Not that I was being sentimental, just had to make sure bitch took my seed. Instinct, just instinct.