FSE

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A story of a Khajiit following the game's actual story line and plot. This will follow mainly down the road I took in the game, but with added humor, emotion and twists you can't get from the video game. Selian is copyrighted to me. All other names, locations and main plot is copyrighted to Bethesda Studios

Chapter 1

Well, this is fantastic, completely awesome I must say. I just woke up, I have a pounding headache and I am on some sort of wagon heading off to some city. Shit doesn't look good right now. Some guy across from me, apparently a rebel in some empirical war, has kindly informed me that I was caught along with them during some rebel raid. At least he's mature about it; right next to him is what the first guy keeps calling a horse thief, and considering the rags the second one is wearing, it doesn't surprise me. The thief just keeps whining and moaning and complaining about how it's not fair, all he did was steal a couple horses and a few valuables; he doesn't deserve to lose his head.

I might agree with him, but his story of unfair barely competes with my own. Just recently left Elsweyr, from my home city of Riverhold to go do some exploring of the other lands of Tamriel, but so much for that. Only days after reaching the Skyrim border, I found what looked like an innocent enough group to do some trading with to remove some of the stuff I'd picked up for some much needed gold. Before I could even say hello, I was caught in between the Imperial raid. In the confusion, I think I was hit in the back of the head by one of the horse's hooves.

So, that's my story, and I reminisce over my young life as I enter the town where I'll be killed, surely. Not like they plan on letting anyone go at this rate. Surprisingly enough, though, it looks as though they have a great shot at ending the rebellion right now, as sitting just to the right of me is a guy with a gag on. His name is Ulfrick Stormcloak, and he is the leader of this uprising.

I silently thank him for putting me into this situation as the cart rolls to a stop just outside a gate that probably leads to some gallows. Dear Fadomai, I don't want to hang. I've done nothing to deserve being hung. I've been an honest trader, even helped out the unlucky chap being attacked by bandits as often as I could. This isn't right, isn't fair!

My heart begins pumping ever faster, sending adrenaline through my body as we leave the wagon and head uphill, beyond the gate, to the inevitable end. It's hard to keep tears from rolling down my face as I think about life back home in Riverhold. Sure, life was tougher, but we did well. Trading was a specialty of the Khajiit race, one that I had learned well, the main reason I had left home, hoping to make a name for myself, all in hopes that I could get that beautiful snow leopard of my dreams to want me.

As I walked into some box formation, apparently so they could do some sadistic roll call, I could scarcely breathe. Two people were called up before me, but at least the second left me with a little something to laugh at. Seems as though this useless cub had no idea what dying honorably meant, because as soon as his name was called, he ran past the guards, with his hands still tied together, screaming how he wasn't going to die. He made it about forty yards before an archer put an arrow through his backside.

A slight chuckle managed to escape my parched lips, but I was next in line. I walked up, ready to meet my end; surely they had come up with something as a reason for why I should die. Perhaps meddling in Imperial affairs, trying to trade with a group of rebels that I had no idea were rebels, breathing too loudly, being alive. Something had to be created, right?

My breaths were coming shallow now, hardly giving me the oxygen necessary to stand up. I stood there, waiting for my name to be called, but for a few seconds, all the man did was curiously look at me. It felt like an eternity had passed before he finally spoke again.

"Who are you?"

Hope soared within my soul. If he didn't know who I was, then that meant they weren't putting me in the same group as the rebels. Surely, if they knew that, they had to let me go. Perhaps they understood that I had just been put into an unlucky situation and had been at the wrong place and the worst time imaginable. As I whispered out my name, Selian Blackcoat, all hope of leaving here alive rode on his answer.

I could read his eyes well enough; he didn't think I should be here, didn't believe I had done anything wrong enough for this, but also that he knew the decision was not his. I watched him look to the lady who appeared to be the leader in this, waited for my judgment, but looking into her eyes, I knew there wasn't a shot. The only thing that burned in her eyes was that of boredom and impatience. She didn't care about the fact I was innocent, all she cared about was the reward she would get when it was confirmed she had overseen the killing of Ulfrick. I didn't even wait for her harsh words. I let out the air in my lungs, my ears drooping in exhaustion and gloom.

I didn't even try to fight back the tears now dripping down my spotted face. I was fast, but there was no way this bobcat was going anywhere. Maybe out of comfort to himself, maybe for my sake, he apologized and let me know he would inform Elsweyr of my death. At least I knew my family would have closure.

God, how I missed them! Leaving them had been the hardest decision, but there had just been too much to see. Up until the moment I woke up in that cart, it had been worth it, but now, everything felt dry. I prayed to Fadomai, pleading with her to save me, sending one last cry up to the heavens, asking for the help I couldn't get from the ground below me.

For the first time, I actually looked at the machine that would be used to kill me. I nearly threw up. Decapitation. The fact that I didn't pass out right then was a miracle, and I wordlessly sent a prayer of thanks for leaving me my dignity if nothing else. Some priestess began her ritual of commending our souls to the heavens above, something I could draw at least a little comfort in, but even that was cut short by the same lady who had disregarded my innocence just moments ago.

I watched in fear, my green eyes dilated in a sense of terror as I watched the first man led to the chopping block, as he was unceremoniously shoved down by the boot of that bitch. The hooded executioner brought his battle axe high behind him, before swinging it downwards, severing the head from the rest of the body. Blood squirted from the cavity, and I threw up. In pure determination to keep my honor though, I kept my mouth closed and forced myself to swallow the acidic remains.

With a heavy heart, I placed one foot in front of the other, finding it extremely difficult to tell my body to lead itself to death. Feline instincts fought with that sense of honor, screaming at me to run, to try and escape, but I pushed it back. Fear tried to overwhelm me, but I managed to keep it subdued enough. This was the end of the line.

I dropped to my knees and bent forward on my own, refusing to let the whore above me do the job. I watched as the hooded killer brought his axe back, and I let loose one last prayer to the Goddess above, praying for her welcoming hand in the afterlife. I nearly chuckled when the executioner stopped to give me the decent respect of letting me finish my prayer. Not wanting to look like I was stalling, I kept it short and to the point, before taking in one last deep breath of air and letting it out, the final breath my lungs would ever take.

Securely placing my neck over the niche it was designed for, I resigned myself to my death, waiting to feel whatever one felt right before their head was removed from their body. For an agonizing eternity, I waited, but then I heard some loud yelling, as people began screaming incoherently. With curiosity burning through me, I turned my head to the side and looked.

Immediately, I forgot about the chopping block, quickly struggling to my feet as I saw a huge dragon on one of the towers above me. Letting out a choked scream of my own fear, I dashed for the first place of cover I could find, which was unfortunately currently occupied by the same imperial forces that had just tried to kill me. At the moment, they seemed more worried about getting to safety, than about the unfinished deaths that were running for their own lives.

I figured I would be killed as soon as they recognized me, but it seemed as though luck smiled upon my rust colored face. The first one to make eye contact with me was the same man who had admitted I didn't deserve to be there. The moment he recognized me, he called me over, telling me to stay with him, that he would help get me out of here.

Building running was difficult with my bound hands and I nearly fell once or twice, but my cat like balance helped me recover and I followed him into some stronghold. We ran downstairs to some underground tunnel, disappearing from the mayhem above. As soon as we made it to the bottom, the man cut my bonds, finally giving my paws the freedom to move again.

"We're not out of the fire yet, Khajiit. I'll try to get us out without any more bloodshed, but I can't make any guarantees. There's a chest over there with the standard guard issuance of armor and sword. Put in on quickly, for we must make a hasty escape. Diana will be looking for the rebels and you soon enough."

I deduced that Diana was the same lady who had just tried to kill me, so there was no other need for motivation. I shrugged on the heavy armor, my weakened legs stumbling with the added burden. Ignoring them, I sheathed my sword, telling myself that I would have plenty of time to get food later. I didn't, however, deny myself grabbing a cub above me and drowning it in a pool of water, bringing the cold liquid to my lips and letting it pour down my burning throat. Tossing the cup behind me, I followed the mysterious man further down into the tunnel.

Only minutes later, we came across a pair of guards. Negotiations were attempted, but they were in no mood to let us through. I no longer cared what they thought, and pulled out my sword. It felt light in my paw, as I danced the blade around, parrying, blocking, and slicing my way through my opposition. Many a bandit had found out my skill with the blade, a skill I had spent years learning and perfecting. With controlled ease, the man and I dispatched our foes, more focused on disabling them rather than killing them.

The same story repeated itself a few times, each one finishing the same way as the first with two guards left unconscious on the floor. I picked up any gold and potions I could find on the way, mucking up a small amount of one hundred gold coins before we finally reached the end. A stream led us the rest of the way out, my eyes and heart singing with the joy of life as the light enveloped me. The man advised me to make my way to a nearby hold called Whiterun, also telling me that if I wanted to rest for a bit, there was an even closer settlement, Riverwood, within an hour's walk. After getting directions, we split up. I chuckled to myself as he invited me to join the imperial guard, forcing myself to hold it in. The chances of me joining the group that had just tried to kill me after it was obvious I had done nothing wrong? Not likely!

The trip downward was a rough one. The man, who had finally named himself Ruben, said he was headed there too, but that I could not afford to take the road, as I would be a fugitive for the next couple days, though one not actively sought after. He would head to the city down the main road to inform them of the dragon attack and to let a good friend of his know of my coming so that I could get some much needed food and rest without having to shell out the meager supply of gold I had.

Grunting to myself at the trip ahead, I stretched out my legs, digging my toes into the dirt below me, simply content with the knowledge that I still had my head. It was only minutes later that my stomach growled fiercely, informing me of its need for food. Filling my belly was all the incentive I needed, and thus, the trek to Riverwood began.

About two hours later, the winding road finally leveled out, simply molding into the grass fields that surrounded me. There was no issue, however, as I could see the edges of town a couple miles away. The sun was starting to set, the early winter cold beginning to bite. Thankfully, my fur and the heat I had generated from wearing this armor kept me from feeling it all that much and I strolled into town just as the sun leveled below the horizon in high spirits.

Finding the man's home was no difficult task, as the small town only had three homes to choose from, with one general goods shop I'd have to make a stop at tomorrow to finish off the quartet. I trudged up the steps, ignoring some insolent kid's comment about how I shouldn't get on his bad side and wearily knocked on the door. It was opened a few seconds later, a smiling lady greeting me and leading me inside.

"Ruben said a lot about you, Khajiit. We're sorry for the misunderstanding, but that's in the past for now. You look like you could use a warm bed and some even warmer food. Come, I have some clothes for you to wear that will at least fit you better than that armor, as I doubt that was ever made with you in mind."

I thanked her, taking the clothes from the dresser she pointed me to, groaning in relief as I shucked off the armor I had been wearing. The leather clothes felt much better than the torn rags. I longed for a bath, my fur itching, but my stomach trumped all of it as soon as the smell of meat and bread filled my nostrils. Hardly able to contain myself, my feral need for food demanded I go downstairs, of which I gladly followed through with.

A man and woman, with their young daughter were there at the table already. In respect, of which I was most grateful, they waited until I was there to seat themselves. The meat was delicious; a seasoned venison that had been above the flame for just the right amount of time for a starving feline. I moaned in supple joy as the taste exploded upon my tongue, my stomach growling once more in anticipation of the oncoming meat sliding down my throat.

They were more than gracious, keeping my plate filled as I ate the meat, snacking on some wonderfully baked bread with cheese sauce. All that, washed down with a few glasses of water left me feeling like I was back home, an emotion that once again nearly brought me to tears, but I managed to hold it in; there would be time to allow myself to let go of the stress I was holding in later.

We talked over some wonderful mead, relaxing near the fireplace as I learned of what Skyrim had gone through lately. I knew their political system, and enough about their geography, but I hadn't heard much about them in ways of recent news. Apparently, the great high king of this land had been assassinated by the same man I had been sitting next to only hours ago. Word was that he hadn't yet been found and most people thought he was still alive, the intrusion of the dragon giving him the time and distraction he needed to escape.

The dragon itself seemed to be an even hotter topic. This I could understand, as the most I heard about them back in Riverhold was in myths and legends. I had yet to meet a Khajiit who believed they still lived, much less had actually seen one. Apparently, Skyrim hadn't seen a dragon in centuries, their existence being long determined to be over, that the dragon slayers had finished them all off. The sighting of one now, fresh off the beginning of the rebellion had caused quite a few theories of how the two were connected. Most intriguing of which was the belief that the dragons had come back to see the overthrowing of the king and later, the destruction of the world.

Just yesterday, I would have thought this was bogus, that it was just a coincidence, but that seemed doubtful. The king had been last in line to be killed, seemingly as a final statement, but before it could be done, the dragon had shown up, creating the mayhem that, from the sound of it, was enough to help their leader escape. I silently thanked Fadomai for saving my life and giving me the chance to once again travel.

After a few bottles of mead, my attentions began focusing more on my fur, as I picked at the dirt and the few bugs that had sought to make a home in my coat. It took very little time for the observant woman to notice this and she invited me to use the room they had downstairs to clean myself up. There was a tub nearby I could take a bath in and a guest bedroom as well. I thanked them graciously and made my way down the stairs.

It took very little time for the water to heat up, filling the tub with steaming hot water that beckoned me in. Taking off my clothes, I softly stepped in, nearly drooling as my feet submerged into the hot water. I took little time to completely submerge myself in the bath, using the soap above to work the grime out of my fur, purring loudly as I lathered the soap in, digging into my scalp and body. The soothing motion also seemed to awaken a more dormant part as I felt soft twitches in my sheath. I felt it awaken, the soft flesh swelling from its home. It took little time to harden as the rising steam caressed it, causing little throbs of pleasure to course through my body.

I ignored it for the time, simply focusing on the soap and the joyful feeling of being clean again. I worked into my ankles, lifting each foot separately to clean before placing it back into the tub. As I worked up towards my thighs, ignoring my burgeoning erection was becoming nearly impossible. I worked on the outer sides of my legs first, digging into the thick fur, before traveling north to clean my rump. I was nearly dripping at this point, and when I passed through my crack, a claw tracing directly over my tailhole. I gasped as a sweet arc of pre pulsed out my cock, the juice flying into the water below.

I let my fingers trail through the crevice for a while, enjoying the little delights of pleasure as I became harder and more needy. Taking my other paw, I began scratching through the coarse fur of my inner thighs, my legs nearly shivering as the stimulation grew. I could smell my musk from behind the soap, my balls heavy with seed that had been sitting there for weeks. I let my fingers trail over my taint, rubbing over the tiny hole of flesh, relaxing and loosening it. My legs fully soaped down, my other paw scrubbed up my scrotum, causing me to let loose a deep moan, my shaft drooling pre in between small pumps. Bringing my paw further up, I softly grasped my ballsac, letting out a shuddering moan as I rolled and massaged them in my paw. My cock was on fire now, pre leaking from it like a sink.

My other paw had been at work loosening and lubing up my pucker, sending wonderful pleasure through my crotch. Bending forward, I let my balls go to grab ahold of the edge of the tub. Brushing on a new coat of soap, I brought one claw over my crack, spreading the suds directly over my hole. Placing that claw directly over my taint, I eased the fluid around the flesh, slickening it and my claw up. Seconds later, I let out a throaty mewl as I drew my claws in and slid my finger into the depths of my ass.

Drool poured from my lips, a mind numbing pleasure working through me as I pumped and twisted my finger within myself. I couldn't quite make it to my prostate, but that was not a problem. The metal piece from which the water had flowed out was smooth and tapered off some at the end. It ran about ten inches in length, far longer than my claw and would have no problem reaching that nub in my ass. It was low enough as to allow me to comfortably position myself on all fours.

Slowly dropping down, I pulled my finger out of my ass, using it to cover the metal cock behind me with soap, which would both lube it and help to keep it clean as my ass enveloped it. After I was satisfied with my work, I lifted my bobbed tail out of the way, lined my ass up and thrust against it. There was little resistance and the tapered end slid in easily. The shock of the cold intrusion made me yowl slightly, though I kept it muffled enough to not be noticed. The voices from upstairs had long ago gone silent, leaving me with the peace and solitude I wanted.

I groaned as I slid the makeshift dick further in, each new inch of the metal causing me to shudder as it coldly sunk into my ass. About a minute later, I felt my cheeks press up against the wall, all ten inches of steel submerged in my ass. I brought my paws up to my shaking package, oozing the soap onto my quaking balls and shivering penis.

Starting out slow, as if to mimic an actual fuck, I slid my ass off the nozzle a few inches before roughly sinking back against it. I clenched on it, sending a juicy squirt of pre from my cock. I pulled back again, driving into it as my prostate already began enjoying the stimulation. Hardly maintaining myself, I took ahold of my shaft and began to softly stroke it, trying my hardest to draw out such a wonderful moment.

I increased the speed, beginning to draw out further and crash back harder, simulating as rough a fuck as I possibly could. My paws danced over the barbs, firmly stroking up and down its black length. The eyelids over my green eyes squeezed shut as I bit my lip to keep quiet. I was pounding my ass into submission against a metal nozzle dick like my life depended on it, a thought of which the irony did not escape me.

Letting loose soft growls, I stroked faster, my other paw having left my balls to steady my body as I crashed against the metal intrusion. It had long since warmed up, reaching the temperature in my ass, and all I imagined was the snow leopard back home rutting into me, his arms wrapped around my supple bobcat body, his soft paw wrapped around my hard shaft as we mated.

Bringing a leg up from the ground, I searched for the knob on the wall. Upon finding it, I twisted it just a little and then groaned as hot water began trickling into my ass. My tongue slid from my maw as I panted. I could hardly stand it anymore, finally mashing fully against the metal piece before using my paw to stimulate the snow leopard cumming inside me, twisting the knob on and off as it spit hot water deep inside me.

It didn't take long before my world came crashing in upon me, my fingers flying over my shaft as the metal claimed me, its liquid spunk flowing into the depths of my ass. Finally, letting loose an unabashed yowl, I came, spitting thick cream from my cock. Bending down, I submerged my cock into the hot water, voraciously pumping up and while my other paw held my balls tight, two fingers rubbing over the sheath as I tried to work out as much spunk as I could.

My ass had been filled up and I began feeling the clear spunk drizzle out my ass, streaming over my balls and into the tub. I gasped for air as my climax began fading, my paw still firmly, but slowly rubbing over my sensitive flesh, encouraging multiple weeks' worth of sperm to empty from my balls. I turned off the knob, but wasn't quite ready to remove the metal dick from my rump, instead simply purring loudly as the last globs of spunk pulsed from my shaft.

After a few minutes of relishing in pleasure, I finally slid the tube from my ass, sinking my soap covered body into the bath, slowly scrubbing it out of my now clean fur. Sighing in complete satisfaction, I cleaned the metal with a heavy dose of soap and rinsed it off, letting the water out of the tub and drying my fur. I hadn't felt this clean and this wonderful in ages. Perhaps a near death experience could have some positive results beyond just still being alive.

These thoughts took a second seat as I pulled on my loincloth and crawled into bed. Blowing out the lanterns on the sides of the room, I slipped under the covers, resting my head against the soft pillow. Tomorrow there would be tasks that had to be done, issues to take care of, gear and a weapon to get. But for now, the only thing I wanted was to sleep.