Chapter Text
Lorya came awake in her dark, torch lit cell, still dazed by the poison that had been used to subdue her. She wasn’t immediately aware of the fact that she was not home in her bed until she tried to rise to her feet. It was when she realized that she was not on a bed that she was shocked fully awake. She glanced around her, taking in the gray walls and iron bars of her dark prison, before rising to her feet.
She was tall for a female high elf at six foot, but was long and lithe. Her chest had just filled out, giving her an hour glass figure with large thirty two ‘D’ breasts. Her skin tone was a little lighter than normal, giving her a lighter gold complexion, and her hair was a light golden brown. She didn’t much care for her darker hair color, often being the butt of many jokes as she grew up. Her eyes were a beautiful teal green, almost matching her silken dress.
“Hello, is anyone there?” she called out into the passage. As she neared the bars, she could see farther down the hall to realize she was in a dungeon of some sort. Regretfully, she was the only person in said dungeon. She pressed her face against the bars, finding she was able to see the other end of the hall and that it dead ended with a cell.
Relaxing against the bars, she waited for hours before the door opened. At first she was elated at seeing an Altmer in gilded armor come through the door, but it was the next figure through that dashed her hopes. A Thalmor wizard in his purplish robes entered the dungeon. The likelihood of them being her rescuers were slim, and she pressed herself against the bars to test the last shred of her hope.
“Help me, please!” she pleaded as the soldier and Thalmor looked at her. “I’ve been kidnapped!” If there was any sign of compassion or empathy, she might have whooped for joy, but the sneer that crossed the Thalmor agent backed her away from the cell’s bars.
“You most assuredly have,” he said, his voice not even rising in any indication of alarm. “You are a poor excuse for a test subject,” he continued, his voice rising in agitation as he studied her. “I wanted someone with a little more muscle for my great experiment.”
“Experiment,” she said, backing as far away from the cell doors as she could. “Experiment for what?”
“Once, while reading a rather ancient tome, I came across the mention of a man named Umaril the Unfeathered. Have you heard of him?” the Thalmor agent asked. Lorya shook her head no, but the Thalmor agent continued on. “He was a powerful being once, before he was killed. Some say he was half daedra, others that he was half-god. All that matters is he was so powerful, it took the Champion of Cyrodiil to kill him.”
“What does that have to do with me?” Lorya asked, making herself small against the wall.
“I want to see if it’s possible to create a Dremora hybrid, and for that I need you,” he said, smirking as he glanced at her voluptuous body. He fished something from under his robe, then tossed her a small pinkish bottle to land on the pallet of straw between them.
“And if I refuse?” she said, hoping to find some way out of this. She knew of the Dremora. They were Daedra summoned from the planes of Oblivion to serve temporarily as soldiers before the magicka used to bring them here ran out and they returned to Oblivion. As she understood it, they were beasts that somewhat resembled a man, but larger and more terrifying.
“That won’t be much of an issue,” he said, sticking his hand through the bars. Lorya saw the glow of a purple orb as he began a summoning a creature. She watched in horror as a large purple orb appeared in front of her and a Dremora appeared before her. It was massive, almost seven feet tall and in full armor. It’s wielded it’s weapon with both hands, and looked like it could cleave a man in two with one swing.
Lorya whimpered at seeing it, but the massive warrior looked around before looking back at its summoner, sheathing it’s weapon on its back. “Mate her,” the Thalmor agent said, and the Dremora looked back at Lorya and sneered.
“She is weak, mortal,” he said, his voice deep and resonating almost as if two people were speaking at the same time. “She is not fit for a mate.” Lorya looked hopeful for a moment. Would she be spared simply because she wasn’t perfect?
“Do it anyway,” the mage said through gritted teeth. Lorya’s eyes were locked on the Dremora’s, hope leaving her face as the Dramora unsnapped his chest armor and it fell to the floor with a clang.
The ring of it’s Daedric armor caused her to start whimpering as she slid into a corner to try to get away from it. With her eyes locked on his, she didn’t see him remove his greaves or boots, or even as it slipped its gloves off. She watched him as he came closer, felt as his hands gripped the collar of her dress around her neck. With the sound of ripping fabric, the summoned Dremora stripped her of her dress in one quick motion, her body now only covered by her undergarments.
Whimpering, and trying to use her arms to cover her body, the Dremora threw her into the center of the room. She landed, arms and legs splayed out in various directions so that she was looking back at the mage and his guard. The Dremora knelt down, his hands ripping her bra from her chest as Lorya cried into the straw underneath her. Burying her face in the rough straw, she felt the last piece of clothing, her panties, get ripped off and thrown away.
“Well, get to it,” she heard the mage say as the Dremora shifted position over her. “You’ve only got so long before my spell runs out.”
Tears streamed down Lorya’s face as she felt the Dremora’s manhood against her ass. She expected to be flipped over before he entered her, but as he settled over her, he suddenly shoved into her sex. She cried out in pain as his massive manhood violated her, his large weight pressing her deep into the straw she lay on and causing the stems to press into her sensitive flesh.
When it seemed like her body wouldn’t allow the beast above her any deeper into her womanhood, it stopped hovering there for one moment before she felt it start to remove itself, pulling all the way back to where just the tip of his large manhood remained inside of her. She briefly wondered if that was it before it shoved itself even deeper inside her, her scream catching in her throat as the pain so consumed her that she couldn’t even breathe.
As before the beast started to remove itself, before plunging once again into her delicate channel. This time, she could feel the hairs around its manhood against her delicate sex. When it began to pull out of her, it didn’t pull itself so far, only a few finger widths before plunging back into her and already pulling itself back out before she could scream again. It finally settled into her brain that it couldn’t go any deeper into her, and it was now trying to plant its seed into her.
She tried to kick or buck against it, but the heavy weight of the Dremora kept her pinned to the floor. It laughed at her feeble efforts to fight, his pistoning manhood never stopping or slowing down. She finally quit trying to fight, and simply cried while she was being violated. Her delicate sex hurt as it stretched around his large manhood.
Soon, the Dremora was grasping at her shoulders, grunting from exertion. It’s hands were rough on her body, feeling like rough stone as it used it’s strength to slam itself harder and deeper into her. Soon, it seemed as if her body wouldn’t allow it to burrow any deeper into her as it seemed to hit something inside her, something delicate that with each thrust made her cry out in pain as his manhood shoved itself against it.
Finally, with one last hard shove, the Dremora broke past her barrier. She screamed as its manhood went even deeper into her delicate channel. Then with a grunt, it pulled itself almost all the way out before collapsing on top of her and coated her womb with its fiery seed. She collapsed under his great weight, tears flowing from her eyes. She felt the Dremora’s weight vanish, but was in too much pain from its intrusion to think about getting up.
“Well, it’s nice to know that at least this part of the experiment will go without a hitch,” the mage said. Lorya refused to look at her tormentors, even as she heard the clank of the door as it opened. She was briefly able to see the guard in his gilded armor as he collected her ruined clothes before stepping out of her vision. She again heard the clank of the door as it closed, the snap of the lock as it sealed her in.
Lorya didn’t care for that. She could feel the beast’s seed as it slid down her channel, the fire somehow soothing her aching womanhood. She lay there, crying in shame at being treated this way. She was a high elf, expected to breed true to another high elf and keep their bloodline pure as they had for ages. It was what was expected of her.
One thing clicked into her mind very clearly. The Dominion must not know that one of their agents was kidnapping girls in an attempt to pollute the bloodline. It was the only hope that allowed her to keep drawing breath. She could feel the mage’s eyes as she was watched, but she didn’t care. She refused to carry a beast’s child.
She’d find a way out. She had to.