FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The heavy iron door lumbered open with a screech of metal on metal, and the labored grunts of the Nord who pushed against it. Virdus gasped, as he threw the thing the rest of the way to the side, before putting his hands on his hips and struggling to catch his breath. A short, green and black scaled Argonian slipped past him, patting the Nord's shoulder with an ambivalent air of gratitude, before looking around the large stone chamber.

“Looks like they got into this place, too," Baneeva noted, pointing to the Draugr scattered about on the floor, their bodies in various states of mangling. “Whoever was here before us, it looks like they must have picked this place clean."

“Aye," said Virdus, as he ran a hand through his dark hair and let out a sigh. “Who d'you think it was? The Companions?"

“Not unless the Companions started taking up Destruction magic, since the last time I heard of them." Baneeva stood over one of the desiccated bodies of the ruin's former inhabitants, which still clutched a ruined sword in its hand as it lay sprawled on the floor. The Argonian kicked at it, trying to see if anything interesting was underneath it.

“Hey!" Virdus scowled.

“What?" The Argonian looked back to his partner. Then, after a moment, his expression fell. “Right. Sorry. That's probably your ancestor, or something."

Virdus shook his head, but decided to drop the matter. “It can't have been the College of Winterhold. Not unless they suddenly started using swords."

“Perhaps it was that Dragonborn fellow I've been hearing so much about." Baneeva pulled the pack off of his back, laying it on the floor so he could open it and rummage through the main pocket. “I think if I can squint, I can see clear evidence of my people's fighting tactics."

“For the last time," Virdus growled, “the Dragonborn is not an Argonian."

Baneeva simply rolled his eyes. The two of them had had this conversation many times, before, and the Argonian had learned rather quickly that it was a lost cause trying to get Virdus to accept it. The plainly obvious was never quite Virdus's strong suit. “Yes, well... task at hand," he said, as he pulled his tools out and began to slip them under his belt. “What do you think, friend? This is a good spot, right?"

The Nord did not respond, right away. Being in the final chamber of his ancestral burial mound had something of a disquieting effect. The bodies of his ancestors on the floor were not helping, either. However, being reminded why he was here, in the first place, gave him reason to focus. “It's... remote," he said, hesitantly. “Miles away from any towns or cities. Gonna be nothing out this far except for deer and Skeever, most likely."

Baneeva nodded his agreement. “Maybe a few bandits or rogue necromancers, but nobody ever cared much for them, anyway."

“Can you secure this place?" Virdus asked.

Baneeva snorted. “'Can I secure this place?' he asks." The Argonian held up one of his lockpicks, with a toothy grin. “Thanks to the efforts of our magic-wielding Companion, we have the run of this barrow. Anything that hasn't been destroyed can be easily reset." Rising to his feet, he nodded to himself, assured of the plan that was forming in his head. “I counted three... maybe four doors between here and the entrance that could possibly be locked, again. There's also traps that could be rearmed, but... perhaps it's best to let those lie, for now."

Virdus folded his arms, uneasily. “I don't know how I feel about this, Baneeva. Using the tomb for this, it... it feels like a disrespect."

Baneeva looked from the Nord, to the body beside him. “Friend, it seems that the disrespect has already been done." He saw the flash of anger in Virdus's eye, the beginnings of a bitter sneer, and held his hands up to ward it away. “Uh...Th-th-think of it this way, friend. These are your kin, right? What kind of kin would deny one of their own, when they're in trouble?" Virdus took a step forward, with a snarl. Baneeva's boot-heel bumped against a stone casket, as he retreated. “Besides! Besides... isn't it good that we're here? Once all this blows over, we can stick around and try and fix the place up. Put the bodies back to their place of rest, undo all the damages. That should more than make up for any disrespecting we're doing, here. Why, I'm sure your ancestors will happily welcome you to Soof... um..." He scratched his chin. “Soft... Sorber..."

Virdus recoiled, suddenly, as soon as he realized how heavily his heart was hammering in his chest. He forced his fingers, which had bent into themselves like claws, into a properly balled fist. Shutting his eyes, he inhaled, slowly, through his nose, then finally said. “Sovngarde. The word you're looking for is 'Sovngarde.'"

The Argonian giggled, his muscles visibly relaxing before he resumed the stance of somebody who was possessed of boundless confidence. “Right. That place. You get it."

A heavy silence fell over the two, with nothing but the vague whistle of the drafty halls and the heavy pulls of air through Virdus's mouth. The Nord struggled to keep his mind clear, to fight off the encroaching anxiety that was threatening to overtake him. It was getting more difficult to do so, every night, but he found that it was easier to manage, when he could recognize it was happening. When he finally opened his eyes, the sudden flash of anger had been replaced with a tired smallness.

“We don't have a choice," he said, at last. “I don't have time to go scrounging around for a better place to stay."

“Exactly." Emboldened, Baneeva stepped forward, putting a hand on his partner's shoulder. “And you wouldn't find one, anyway. This tomb is the best place for what needs to happen, Virdus. Trust me. This is a good plan."

Virdus snorted. “Of course you'd think it was a good plan. You came up with it."

“And have my plans ever steered you wrong, before?"

“You mean, besides the job at Riften?"

“Hey, now..."

“Or the time we tried to pass fake Moon Sugar to those bandits?"

Baneeva chuckled. “I'd say that one worked out just fine, actually."

“Only because that chief was willing to accept your unique variety of..." Virdus's cheeks darkened, a bit. “...favors, in exchange for our freedom."

The Argonian beamed, patting Virdus's shoulder before breaking away. “That's the first rule of adventuring, friend. Any plan that works out, in the end, was a good plan." Gathering his pack back up, he made his way back to the iron door. “I'm gonna get started on the locks. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable."

Virdus watched his partner leave, scoffing as the last bit of scaly tail made its way around the corner. “'Make myself comfortable,' he says." Turning to the body on the floor, he shook his head in disbelief. “The man speaks like we're on holiday." The corpse did not respond, its hollow eye sockets pointed up to the ceiling and its mouth still open in a battle cry cut short.

He reached for his pack and nervously decided to put himself somewhere else, in the room.

* * *

Baneeva made it a point to project confidence, at all times. In front of the people who he took jobs for, in front of his enemies, and especially around Virdus, it was very important that he always looked like he knew what he was doing. This presented problems, at times. After all, he only could stop the doubts from flowing into his mind as well as any other person, and if left unspoken they had a rather irksome habit of piling up in his head. And so, he developed a strategy borne of compromise, where he would only voice his concerns when he was sure nobody else could hear him.

He found one such spot for this cleansing ritual, in the middle of a cramped corridor. As it happened, it was square in the middle of the barrow, as close to the chamber where he just left Virdus as it was from the entrance. Here, he slowed from a determined march, to a hesitant walk, and finally to a stop. The bag fell off of his arm and onto the stones. He ran his hands along his short, bumpy head-spines, as a shuddering moan escaped out of his mouth. Nervously, he looked behind him. He had a clear line of sight for a ways down the corridor, and Virdus was unsubtle, even for a Nord. Baneeva needed a moment to convince himself it was safe, but once he was...

“Come on, you little hatchling," he chided himself, his hands sliding back against his head to rub the back of his neck. “This is a good plan. No..." He shook his head and began to pace. “No, don't shortchange yourself, Baneeva. This is a great plan. A fantastic plan. Play your cards right, and you'll have saved... who knows how many people? One? Two? Four? A score of innocents? Only the Daedra could say, for certain. Just lock the doors, Baneeva. Just lock the doors, and we'll all have a quiet, stressful, but uneventful night."

He stopped his pacing, once again looking to the back of the burrow. His heart began to race. “Oh, but to leave tonight as merely 'uneventful,' when there is so much more that could be done..." He bit his lip, at the thought of what he wanted to do. He pressed down on his lip harder, grunting to himself in poorly restrained frustration. “...such a waste. It is such a damnable waste of a night, and us mortals only have so many of those to waste..."

The Argonian growled out loud, hands raised, as if clutching at invisible glory just in front of him. “You madman!" he shouted. “You absolute madman! Is this it?" His pacing resumed, with increased vigor and agitation. “Is this the feather in the cap that defines the Legend of Baneeva, or is this the flash of greed that ends it, for good?" Stopping, he tapped his forehead with two knuckles. “No, no... do not shout, friend. Do not shout. The way forward is not clear to those who shout."

A breath in. A breath out. Baneeva looked up at the ancient stones of the ceiling, nodding slowly to himself. “If this is how my story ends... I could think of worse endings. Plenty before me have suffered less... interesting deaths. More honorable, but... certainly less interesting. Of course, it would be better if I live, but..."

Another breath in. Another breath out. Reaching for his belt, Baneeva pulled his coin-purse off of its loop. Slowly, with an almost ritual air, he sunk his thumb and index finger into the leather pouch, producing a single, ragged coin. “Perhaps... perhaps we let the Septim guide my fortunes. That seems fair." Sighing, he set the coin against the side of his finger, preparing to flip it. “Heads, and I will lock the doors back-to-front. Tails... front-to-back."

He flicked his thumb. The septim wheeled up through the air, then came back down in his open hand. He stared down at it.

He chuckled. Then he began to laugh, more wholeheartedly. “So be it," he said, tucking the coin back into the pouch and the pouch back to his belt. “Whatever happens tonight, it's in the hands of the Divines. Or the Daedra. Or the Hist." He knelt down, opening his bag once again. From one of the side pockets, he pulled out a palm-sized lump of steel, bulb-shaped at the top end and with a flared bottom.

“Not that I lack the means to make my own fortune, of course."

* * *

Virdus finished dragging the last of the Draugr off to one side, where they lay in somewhat neat and orderly lines. He would have preferred to return them to their tombs, but he was unsure who was supposed to be interred where, and he didn't dare try and guess. Maybe he could figure it out later. Later. After tonight. Just thinking about trying made his chest tighten. Lots of things were making Virdus's chest tighten. He was trying to ignore his rising heart rate, but it was getting more and more difficult.

Soon, there was nothing left in the room, to distract him from the feeling. He didn't dare leave, however. Not with the fear setting in. Standing in the center of a circular, raised platform, he could only stare blankly at the giant stone wall, on which a history of his clan was written in the ancient language of the dragons. He couldn't read it. The Nord's parents barely had the patience to teach him regular letters. Whatever history it told, whatever honor it spoke to, it was something that his presence here was almost certainly besmirching.

He let out a ragged pant. Whose eyes were on him? Why did he always feel eyes on him? He put his hands over his eyes, and tried to slow his breathing down. He focused on the feeling of air rushing into his lungs, and then out through his mouth. As long as his breath remained strong and slow, he would be fine. He could stave it off, a bit longer. He would be fine. He would be fine. He would be fine...

With sudden, frenetic movement, he was scrambling to climb out of his shirt. The air was cold against his travel hardened, unshaved chest. That was good. It was only a problem when it stopped feeling cold. He rubbed his forearms to ward off the chill, still staring at the carvings on the stone wall. “I am sorry," he muttered, to whatever ancestors might have been listening. “I can only hope you are enjoying your well-deserved rest in Sovngarde. If only I had that, to look forward to..."

As his muscles began to ache, he felt his senses sharpen. The air smelled more clearly of dust and rust and the tang of winter. The whistle of the wind through the corridors got louder with every beat of his heart. The only thing that grew dimmer was his sight. The stones and the bodies and all the things that couldn't be the source of the eyes on him all faded into each other, as all his other senses came to the fore. The sound of a boot scuffing against the ground, behind him, was as loud as a thunderclap. Quickly, he wheeled around, his eyes widening.

Baneeva looked back at the iron door, momentarily pondering the logistics of pushing the thing closed. Then he shrugged the thought off, tossing his bag to the stones once again. Looking back, he smirked. “Oh. I didn't realize we were at the 'save the clothes' stage of things, already."

Virdus curled his arms around his bare chest, more tightly. “What are you doing here? You're supposed to be locking the doors."

“I have finished," the Argonian replied, simply, as he leaned forward to shuck his boots off. “Are you surprised to hear that I have done my part so quickly? You should know better."

“What are you doing here?" Virdus pressed, agitated. “You're supposed to be on the other side of those doors." He could only stare down the little flight of stairs, where Baneeva was busy removing his belt with all of its tools. “You need to get out, Baneeva. Do you hear me? You can't... you can't stay here."

“A bit late for that," Baneeva replied, watching dispassionately as his belt pooled onto the floor next to him. “Considering there's now three locked doors keeping me in here, with you."

“You locked them. You can _un_lock them."

“Besides... this room is not a bit drafty, but it certainly beats the chamber at the beginning of the barrow."

Virdus shook his head, taking a step back as his heart began to hammer even harder in his chest. “Do you mock me, Baneeva? Do you think this is a joke?"

Nothing but the muscles of Baneeva's tail kept his pants from falling off of his hips. As it stood, they hiked dangerously low, nearly exposing the upper tip of his slit. He did not pay it any heed, as he slowly began to climb the stairs to the top of the platform. “Of course I don't mock you, friend," he said, with a smile. “I have done nothing but take your plight seriously. Do you remember when you first told me about it? A younger Baneeva would have thought you were nothing more than a madman in your cups, to say nothing of what the average person might think."

Virdus took another step back. “D-don't come any closer."

“You should know me better, by now," Baneeva continued, advancing without hesitation. “There has been nothing I have done, that wasn't for a reason."

“I don't want to hurt you," Virdus mumbled, with an air of lament.

“Have faith, my friend." Baneeva put his hand against the rune wall, cornering the Nord against its cold, smooth surface as he smirked up at him. “This is all part of my plan."

“W-what is? What do...?"

Virdus's eyebrows shot up in alarm, as Baneeva's lips first touched his. Warm hands pressed against his skin, surprisingly smooth despite their scaly texture. Before he could register how confused he should have been, his face began to heat. Other parts of him began to get warmer, as he felt the Argonian's crotch against his pant leg.

Baneeva withdrew his snout, a toothy grin in his voice as he whispered “Well? What do you think?"

“Is this..." Virdus grunted, as he felt Baneeva's fingers slipping into his waistband. “...is this your plan?"

“It's the final stroke of my gambit." Baneeva wrapping his hand around Virdus's slowly growing manhood and stroking it was the kind of action that left the little voice in the back of the Argonian's head cheering at its own masterful wordplay. “One last trick up my sleeve to make sure you don't go anywhere."

Virdus did not really have a response to that. It was difficult for him to form a coherent sentence between the blood rushing in his ears, and the feeling of his partner stroking his neglected libido back to life. Scowling, he went on the attack, looming over the smaller man to moan into his mouth. The Nord's hands reached around to Baneeva's backside, and Baneeva (ever the obliging partner) lowered his tail just enough to cause his pants to finally collapse in a puddle around his feet, leaving his body fully at Virdus's mercy.

It had been far too long. For Virdus, anyway. Baneeva was never the kind who wanted for the attention of man and mer, when he wanted it. There was a confidence about Baneeva, a sort of inevitable charm. Virdus had never been one for Agonians, and before Baneeva he had not even really considered men, in this kind of light. But even now, surrounded by his ancestors, feeling the ache in his blood and the itch along his skin, he never could say no, once that scaly hand was between his legs.

For his part, Baneeva was an easily pleased sort. The sight of a warm, hard cock, when it was pulled out into the open air, tickled the same part of his mind that lit up whenever he opened a chest full of septims. He never got tired of seeing either. Just like he never got tired of the feeling of hands surging over his body, or needy moans being puffed into his mouth, or the subtle flash of teeth as they raked against his lips... Oh. No, wait. That last one was new. That was definitely new. In retrospect, he ought to have expected Virdus to get just that little bit more forceful, but...

He let out a yelp, as his body was suddenly turned around. Now it was his back against the wall. Virdus's manhood jabbed against the Argonian's stomach like a dagger, the Nord's teeth threatening to take the top of his lip-scales with the force of the hungry, growling kisses that were rained down against him. He started to hear faint noises, against the breaths and the shuffles. Something in Virdus popped and groaned. The Nord began to loom over him, more and more.

Suddenly, Virdus pulled his lips away, panting desperately. “I..." He shook his head, with a noise somewhere between a growl and a whimper. “...It's no use. I can't stop it."

“It's okay, my friend." Baneeva grabbed Virdus by either side of his squirming face. “Do not fight it. This is all part of my..."

“No!"

Baneeva gasped, as he was suddenly thrown aside. He tripped over his own pants, ripping them as he collapsed to the stone. He sat up, a handful of choice words on his lips about being treated so roughly. But then, from where he was sitting, he realized he had a front row seat to see what was happening to the Nord. His eyes widened with something between awe and fear.

Virdus buried his face in his hands, growling and hyperventilating. His body writhed and contorted around him, as if his skin were a sack full of serpents. Dark patches grew across his exposed flesh, as he was peppered with the slow growth of jet-black hair across every inch of his body. A horrible symphony of pops and cracks accompanied spasmodic jerks, his skeleton seeming to grow and strain against its prison of muscle and flesh. With a violent tearing noise, his pants sheared off of his hips and legs, unable to contain his growing bulk. He grew taller, his limbs longer, his muscles harder. His fingers lengthened and sprouted claws, his feet following suit as they shredded his thin, cheap boots. Suddenly, Virdus lifted his head to the sky, roaring with a force that shook the stones. His face became lupine; long snout and pointed ears, cruel amber eyes... and the teeth. By Mara, those teeth! Against the all-black backdrop of his shaggy pelt, those teeth all but shone in the guttering torchlight.

The beast that was once Virdus turned to regard the Argonian. His face was a mask of pure, feral hatred. Half-again as tall as he was before, he dwarfed Baneeva, as he lay on the ground. Baneeva stared back, mouth agape, before a single word finally bubbled out of his mouth.

“Mag_nificent_...!" Baneeva breathed.

Two thunderous crashes landed just behind him, as Virdus fell to all fours over the Argonian. Baneeva was inundated with strangely-too-natural smells. Fur and body heat, he expected, but also more. There was something underneath it. Woodsy. Airy. Otherworldly. Above it all, however, was the smell of raw, inescapable potency. A miasma of sex and masculine power nearly made Baneeva's head swim.

He only needed to look down, between his knees, to see the primary offender on that last front. The act of turning into a giant man-wolf did not seem to be enough of an ordeal to blunt Virdus's excitement. If anything, Baneeva might have guessed that he was only more wound up. It was hard to tell, of course, because the beast that twitched and spat between Virdus's legs was unrecognizable, compared to what had been fished out of his pants a few minutes ago. What was once modestly impressive was now a long, tapered, canine thing that dwarfed anything that Baneeva had had the fortune of being threatened by, before. It was the color of half-dried blood, almost indistinct against the deep shadows that the werewolf's fur cast over seemingly everything. Even without sight, Baneeva could probably have found it by the Oblivion-like heat that came off of it. A fist-sized knot wriggled free out of the sheath, bringing the whole thing to its final length. A pair of heavy balls dangled beneath, churning and twitching with the promise of an absolute bounty.

Licking his lips, Baneeva lifted a leg to brush against that beautiful thing. The beast made a noise between a growl and a gasp, hiking its hips as if he intended to fuck the air. The action loosed beads of precum into the air, which spattered against the Argonian's shirt, his legs, his own throbbing length. Baneeva chuckled, victoriously. “Can you understand me, Virdus?" He got nothing coherent in response. Lowering his leg, he reached a hand out. “Maybe you don't, but I know you understand this." His fingers closed against the tip of Virdus's cock, giving it a squeeze and milking out another dollop of pre. The beast rutted forward, greedy for more. “That's it," Baneeva cooed. “That's it, my friend. You can forget all about that hunger. Not when there are far more entertaining needs that you clearly need met."

Suddenly, a large hand closed around the back of Baneeva's head. Virdus's hips surged forward. That massive wolf cock jammed against his cheek, leaving behind a trail of musky need as it dragged itself across his face. Virdus growled, darkly, as he withdrew himself, then pressed forward again to rub against Baneeva's other cheek. Baneeva chuckled. “Well, when you ask me like that..." Angling his snout, he began to let out his long tongue.

Baneeva could proudly boast that he had sampled men and women of all of Tamriel's races, in his long and storied career. Virdus, however, was a different beast altogether. Just like how the werewolf's manhood smelled, the taste of it, as it rolled along his tongue, was a tantalizing mixture of familiar and alien. The air above him rumbled with the beast's powerful breaths, thick fur brushing against the Argonian's head-spikes at the top of each inhale. When Baneeva finally got that tapered tip past his lips, he heard the all-too-familiar tone of relief and pleasure, somewhere in the back of the werewolf's throat. The giant hand behind his head tightened, as he began to bob up and down Virdus's length.

For Virdus, the world was a knot of instinct, feeling and sensation. His tongue lolled obscenely out of his mouth, as his growls and pants began to take on a tone of victory. What little traces of his humanity remained were almost entirely dedicated to keeping his hips from thrusting, to quash the desire to drive home and claim the warm hole that had been offered to him. It was a battle, however, that was getting harder with every pass of Baneeva's lips. He angled his snout down, tried to communicate something to that effect between breaths.

Baneeva could not make heads or tails of Virdus's canine vocalizations, but the tone of those yips and growls were entirely unmistakable. The Argonian shivered, in anticipation, knowing what was about to come next. Nevertheless, he spoke calmly and confidently, as he pulled his mouth off of the werewolf's cock. “I hear you, friend," he purred, tapping the top of Virdus's thigh. “Can you let me up? I have a surprise for you."

The Argonian's eyes widened, as the beast atop him lifted himself away without hesitation. Baneeva was honestly a bit surprised to find that, even as a werewolf, Virdus was capable of listening to him. When he was... in a more rational frame of mind, the Nord was nothing if not pliable and willing to let Baneeva take the lead. Baneeva once convinced himself, jokingly, that he could get Virdus to slay the Emperor if the poor man was suitably worked up, beforehand. Even though the creature that glowered down over him was unrecognizable from his companion, it seemed there was still something of that obedient man behind all that fur and sinew.

Pulling himself to his feet, Baneeva gave one of those beady eyes a confident smirk. Turning around, he put one hand against the rune-laden stone wall as he bent over. The other hand rolled over his scaly rump, fingertips catching under the base of his tail as he pulled and kneaded at his flesh. Suddenly, that tail rose, the tip curving up and over to nearly rest against his shoulder. Virdus made a noise partway between a growl and a soft bark. Nestled between Baneeva's cheeks, right where his tail met the rest of his body, the werewolf's ultimate goal was hidden by a small disk of steel.

“You know what that is, friend?" Baneeva half-taunted, over his shoulder. “I had a feeling that I might have needed to prepare for you, a bit more than usual." He wagged his hindquarters, slowly, as he spoke. “I haven't had the pleasure of needing to use this for a long time. Not since our encounter with the Orc elder. You remember him, don't you?"

Virdus was completely uninterested in remembering any Orcs. Not with raw instinct running through his veins. He snarled in Baneeva's direction.

The Argonian, ever the expert on decoding the sound of raw desire, took an educated guess what Virdus was trying to say, and responded with a smug look over his shoulder. “Why don't you take it out, yourself, friend? Claim what's yours and..."

His expression fell when a giant palm slapped against the wall next to him. The werewolf's cruel nails screeched, as they dug furrows into the stone. Volcanic breath rolled out onto Baneeva's shoulders, as Virdus's body shuddered in anxious impatience.

He chuckled, uneasily. “O-on second thought, friend, perhaps it's best if I handle that for you. Seeing as how it requires a touch of delicacy, and all..." The flared bottom of the device made for a perfect handle, once he got his pointer and middle finger underneath it. With a deliberate exhale, he gently pulled the thing out of himself. A slick of his special lubricant trailed from it to his gaping anus, catching the guttering light of the torches as he held the thing out so Virdus could see it was out. “There we go, friend. Slick and trained and..."

A powerful hand wrapped around one of his hips, gripping tightly.

“N-now, friend, I just... oh!"

Something hot and slick sawed between his cheeks, picking up the dregs of his lube and adding an altogether muskier lube to the mix.

“J-just because I've prepared doesn't mean I won't need time to adju..."

His grip on the wall slipped, as he was suddenly pulled back hard enough to nearly be taken off of his feet. Virdus's member tried to batter itself into position, as the werewolf growled a series of incredibly charged things at the back of the Argonian's head.

“Virdus? Friend? Maybe slow dow..."

Virdus found the right angle, and drove himself home with a triumphant roar.

Baneeva's voice went up by a register and a half. When he was able to find his words, the first to leave his mouth were “Oh, sweet Hist save me!"

Virdus was unheeding. As soon as he could once again feel the sensation of flesh wrapped around him, the only thing that mattered was getting more. That first thrust got him a third of the way in. A withdrawal, a thrust forward, and it was close to half. A few more and his knot was wedged between Baneeva's cheeks. The werewolf might have been impressed, at the mewling lizard beneath him and his ability to even take the monster between his legs. Unfortunately for Baneeva, Virdus was not in an appreciative mood. He gave only a scant moment for Baneeva to get accustomed to him, before he adjusted his grip on those hips and began to throw his weight into a good and proper fuck.

With the difference in their height, Baneeva found he could hardly keep his foot-claws on the floor. Virdus put his whole body into the act. He was not so much fucking Baneeva as he was screwing the lizard onto his cock. The monster's arms were used as much as his hips, pushing and pulling as if the Argonian's hindquarters were little more than a sex toy. Baneeva struggled to keep himself upright, to keep enough of himself against the wall to avoid collapsing into a ball of flesh. The whole time, he could only endure, wide-eyed, as he was invaded again and again and again. Virdus rapidly sawed into parts of him where he had seldom felt a man.

Not that Baneeva was in any way regretting his tactical decisions. Once he managed to get over the initial shock, and the true glory of the creature above and behind him could really sink in, the Argonian began to sing. He had always been a shameless lover, unconcerned with notions of privacy or the bizarre Nedic concept that such things ought to have been a secret. It was good that nobody but them was there in that remote barrow, because the chorus of moans and half-sensible oaths might well have been audible in Oblivion.

Virdus would normally be scared of being discovered. Or, he would have been had he been in his usual form. Tonight, however? The sound of a slutty and receptive partner between his legs only pushed him to further acts of lewd savagery. He wanted the whole world to see him claim what was his. His heavy balls swung and slapped against the Argonian's legs, with every thrust and pull. His knot continued to try and batter its way into Baneeva's warm, twitching hole, but every time he tried, it met with resistance. The thought of resistance only made Virdus's rage sharpen, made his arms burn with the exertion, as he slammed Baneeva back harder and harder. He roared at the back of the Argonian's head, demanding to be let in.

Baneeva was very dimly aware of what was about to happen. He knew that the true trial had yet to split him open. However, as he felt the strength leave his legs, felt everything below the waist become limp and tremble, he knew he was powerless to stop it from happening. He also knew he would sooner die than stop it.

Finally finding purchase, Virdus's knot pushed once, pulled back, pushed twice. Baneeva stretched obscenely, eyes screwed shut as the breath was stolen from his lungs. Then, with a white-hot flash of pain, it happened. The Argonian was a bundle of sensation. The keening, victorious howl above his head. The glorious strain as his insides struggled to contain the flood of boiling seed that poured into it. The twitch of his electrified muscles, as he dribbled his own ecstasy onto the floor beneath them. By now, his legs were all but useless, and nothing was keeping him upright but the greedy claws of his mate and the writhing iron bar that had been locked inside him.

Virdus's powerful lungs puffed in and out, each exhale creating a humid fog in the cold night. He stared down, watching as the Argonian haphazardly milked at his cock. He would have growled something, to try and communicate his dominance, but the orgasm that was washing over him would not stop, and he found it took the growls out of his throat. He attempted to negotiate the two of them into a seated position. He was none-too gentle about it, but the tug at his knot squeezed out yet more seed, so he was far from complaining. Leaning back, he wrapped his large arms around Baneeva's chest, absently licking at the crown of the lizard's head.

Baneeva did not resist, as he was laid against Virdus's hot, heaving chest. Almost drunkenly, he looked down between his legs, where the two of them were joined. “B-by the Hist..." he muttered, as he continued to feel that cock twitch inside of him. “I'm afraid you've... I'm afraid you've caught me at a disadvantage, friend."

Virdus growled, softly but firmly.

Baneeva nodded, with something between a sigh and a chuckle. “Oh, you're right. I should not kill the mood by speaking. Just... Gods, you're so warm."

The two of them lay there, a while, with nothing but the whistling wind outside. Baneeva couldn't say which one of them faded first. He only knew that, the entire time he was conscious, Virdus was still joined to him.

* * *

When Baneeva came to, it was to the sight of a natural stone ceiling and the sound of peaceful snoring. Cautiously, he looked behind him. There lay Virdus, no longer monstrous, sleeping the sleep of the dead while Baneeva lay atop him. Between them was a horrid slick, that covered both of their legs and crotches as the last of Virdus's passion leaked out from Baneeva's asshole.

Slowly, the gears started to turn in his head. They were still where they had been, last night. Virdus was right where he had left the Nord. Which meant... Awkwardly, Baneeva pulled himself to his feet. Staggering down the steps, he tried to negotiate his aching legs to get himself across the room. Leaning against the iron door, he looked down the hall.

The first of the doors was still closed and locked. Completely untouched.

Baneeva closed his eyes, inhaled through his nose, and then...

“Yyyyyyyyyyyyyy-es!"

With a snort, Virdus snapped awake. “What is it?" he mumbled, reaching around for anything he could use as a weapon. “What's happening?" Baneeva grabbed his forehead and leaned back, peals of laughter the only thing he could manage to give by way of explanation, for a solid minute. Virdus could only stare, befuddled, as his mind finally started to wake. Then, he was suddenly very much aware of how naked he was, of the puddled of dried semen he was laying in. His expression fell. “Wait... Baneeva. Did we... did you and I...?"

“Oh, friend!" Baneeva leaned against the door-frame, naked from the waist down and obviously used, but looking more triumphant than Virdus had ever seen the Argonian. “Virdus, you beautiful man, we did! And you were like a beast of legend. Granted, that's because you are, but..."

“Are you mad?" Virdus rose to his feet, blushing furiously. “That was your grand plan for dealing with me? I could have killed you! And to do that here, in front of my ancestors...!"

“Oh, will you stop with your ancestors, Virdus?" Baneeva waved the thought away. “As if none of them had ever had a lover somewhere they shouldn't."

“I could have killed you!" Virdus repeated, angrily.

“And you didn't." Baneeva spread his hands out, grinning wide. “Friend, do you not understand the amazing thing we have done, here? Look!" He pointed out the door. “You did not break down the doors. In fact, you did not even attempt to leave this room. Here you stand, once again a man, and..."

Virdus nodded, slowly, his expression falling as the idea began to sink in. “...and if I haven't left this barrow, that means I never tried to hunt anyone."

“Exactly, friend! You survived your accursed night without harming anyone!" Baneeva walked forward, hoping to take Virdus in an embrace. Unfortunately, his legs betrayed him, and he wound up veering to the right before all but collapsing against an empty casket. Undeterred, he smiled up at the Nord and amended: “You survived your accursed night without permanently harming anyone!"

“Baneeva..." Virdus climbed down to the Argonian, taking him by the shoulders. “You are all right, aren't you? I've still hurt you."

Baneeva laughed. “Not to worry, friend. In many ways, I've known rougher lovers. Though, none were arranged as you had been, last night."

“But the curse... what if you...?"

“What if I what?" He laughed again. “Dear Virdus, have you ever heard of an Argonian who's succumbed to lycanthropy? The Hist makes me stronger than any curse Hircine could throw at me."

“But..."

“Friend, friend, friend..." Baneeva reached up, putting his hands on Virdus's face. Gently, he pulled the man in to a kiss. Then, he pulled back, smiling up at the warrior. “Have I not earned your trust, by now? I know that I might seem flippant, but believe me when I say that I have thought of every contingency. This was a calculated risk, I took."

Virdus shook his head. “I... I could have killed you."

Baneeva shook his head, back. “Rule number one, friend. Rule number one." Sighing, he pulled himself away. “Now, then, I believe we'll both need to break into the stash of backup clothes I put aside for this purpose. We have a lot of work to do."

“What are we going to do?" Virdus asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I've bought us a couple of weeks. Enough time to head into town, grab some supplies. Perhaps we could even take a job or two."

“Perhaps we could. Assuming that Khajit hasn't blown into town."

“Ugh!" Baneeva stumbled over to his pack. “Why did you have to remind me of that creature? And right when we were having a fine moment, too!" Virdus had half an apology on his lips, but Baneeva cut that short by throwing a bundle of clothes at the Nord. He continued to mutter to himself. “That damned Za'ir. Thinks he can lord his conquests over me. Tell me, has that man ever bedded a werewolf? I should think not. I doubt his skinny little hips could survive the ordeal. Honestly, friend, some people just lack that critical gift of modesty. In fact..."