Krris #3

“I’ll try anything! What’s your plan?” “First, I want to change your living arrangements. I want you to sleep with me. Just for a few days.”
“Sleep with you?!” “Not physically you horny Khajiit! Just stay with me. And we’re going to burn those magazines.” Krris nodded assent. “I thought that would be part of it.”
“Now Krris, in an ideal case, I’d have you sleep with Ubergard. But that’s not going to work here. She has about as much knowledge of the opposite sex as you. I’m the next best thing you’ve got. We need to get you to transfer your attentions to me. However, we will not have sex, Krris. You will do what you need to do, but there will be no physical contact between us. I do not want to have to explain this to the Jarl!”
“I suppose, if you think that will work. It’s very kind of you to do this for me Red. You won’t find me… disgusting?” “What, me? Krris, I live for penis! You should know that. It’ll be tougher for me than for you, believe me. But I’m committed to the Jarl and I won’t risk that. No, there will be nothing physical between us – but visually we’ll try and switch you to appreciating my fine Argonian form. I promise you, Krris, I won’t be disgusted. I’ll be enchanted.”
“You don’t think, maybe, I’ll just switch my obsession to you instead?” “I’m telling you, Krris, you’re not obsessed. Well, not in the normal way. Your body has just become accustomed to a single set of images to react to. I’ll give you more.” Muz-Ra’s mouth curved upwards as she added, “a lot more.” Krris stood up. “Thank you Red. I hope you’re right. Let’s do it!”
Muz-Ra stood and ran her hand over his crotch. “Hey! I though you said no…” “You’ve got clothes on, my young warrior. And I never said this wouldn’t be fun! I intend to do all I can do for you because you’re my friend, but I never said I wouldn’t take some pleasure in it myself. Consider this your down payment on my services.”
Krris gulped hard, no longer confident he’d made the right decision confiding in Muz-Ra. Reading his thoughts, she relented from her groping. “Oh relax, Krris. I promise I won’t rape you.” His features swiftly changed from surprise at her touch to return to self-pity. “That’s the problem, Muz-Ra. I don’t think you could.” “You think not? Have faith, Krris, and give me some time. I’m really pretty good with men. You might say it’s my specialty.”
The two walked back to the castle, detailing the change of their living arrangements and what they would and wouldn’t tell to the others. If Muz-Ra seemed to be walking a little closer than was usual, and if she occasionally brushed into him a little accidentally, surely that was only due to her clumsiness, Krris thought. He barely noticed, except maybe for that one time his hand drifted across her behind, holding her there unconsciously as he felt the muscles bunch and relax under her scales as she climbed up the hill. He pulled it away as soon as he became aware of it. Muz-Ra didn’t seem to notice anything fortunately. While Muz-Ra fully intended to uphold her promise of privacy, she insisted that Ubergard be told at least the rudiments of their plan, if only to prevent Uber from misconstruing things if she found out otherwise. As for the others, officially Krris would be staying with Muz-Ra for added security while the Jarl was gone.
So after dinner that night, she took the giantess aside. “Hi, Uber. Can you come over here a minute? Please, sit. We need to talk.” “What is it, Red?” “It’s about Krris, Uber. He really likes you, you know.” The Argonian sighed. “You think so? I’m not so sure. I don’t feel any passion from him. Sometimes I think he’s just hanging out with me to keep me from feeling bad. I think I should break it off. He’s too valuable to lose to my imagination of a romance that’s not there. It’s getting kind of awkward.”
“You’re wrong, Ubergard. He does ;like you romantically. But he knows it’s getting awkward, and he doesn’t like it either. Uber, he talked to me privately this morning.” “It’s Udaran isn’t it. I know he’s still in love with her.” “He is not in love with her, Ubergard! Really he’s not. What he has for her is something else. It’s like a mental sickness. But it’s one I think I can cure.” “Really? Are you serious? How?!”

Krris #2

“Red, I am never going to have Udaran’s love like I’ve long dreamed. But I have a new dream that’s in my grasp. I will tell you or do whatever I can to make that happen. I trust you.” “Well! Okay then. Now, I’m going to have to be careful here. I’ve got a rather powerful boyfriend, and I don’t want him to get the wrong idea. So we’ll just talk. But I need you to be completely open with me, and it’s going to be about your sex life.” “Red! I don’t have a sex life. That’s kind of the problem!”<
“Everyone has a sex life, Krris. It just may not be with another person. You see where I’m going here?” Krris’ eyes grew wide. “Oh! That. Well… yeah… okay, I guess I have a sex life. It’s just a lonely one.” “And that’s what we’re going to need to fix. But first, I need you to be completely honest with me, and I do hereby promise this will be 100% private forever too.” The Khajiit smiled some relief at that, and Muz-Ra noticed his tail fur did unfluff at least a little.
Krris, when you do that, what do you think about?“ "Well… you probably know already.” “Assume I know nothing, Krris. What do you think about?” “Udaran.” “Always?” “Always Udaran.”<
“Specifically… what part of Udaran do you think about?” “What part? Oh, the usual I guess. Her… tail mostly. And underneath it of course.” “Well, that’s pretty normal anyway. Tell me, have you ever seen… what’s underneath?” “Until that one time in the bath, no. And even then I just maybe peeked a little. Other than that, just a Tails magazine, but they don’t do nudity.”
“ONE Tails magazine?” “Well… maybe… 82.” “Really? (I didn’t know there were that many!) Do you still have them?” “Not all of them.” “Let me guess… only the ones with Udaran in them?” Krris nodded sheepishly.
“Well, don’t feel too bad Krris. You’ve just got an obsession, and you’ve been feeding it every time you do that.” “You think?” “Absolutely. How long would you say you’ve been doing that with Udaran’s pictures?” “Oh, I guess around 10 minutes. Maybe a little more.“ “No no no. Not how long does it take. How long has it been since you started using her pictures? "Well, kind of… forever.” “Forever?! How old are you Krris?”
“No one’s ever asked me that before. Red, I don’t want to lose my position!” “KRRIS! How old ARE you!?” “I turned nineteen about three weeks ago.” “Really! Have you ever been with anyone? Sexually?” “Well… No.” “Oh my god!” Muz-Ra cried, somewhere between a laugh and a scream as she collapsed onto the ground trying not to lose control. “A virgin?” “Please Red, I know you want to help, but you’re not making this very easy on me!” Krris protested.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. But… so your only sexual experience has been with Udaran in some magazines?” “Well, I did work at the Cathouse. I know how it’s done. But, personally… no.” Krris said, looking away. “NO! Krris, do not be embarrassed! You are made to be sexual Krris. We may keep it private, but we ALL are, unless we have much bigger problems than yours!” “So… you think I can get over her?” Krris asked hopefully.
“Who? Udaran? Krris, Udaran is not your problem. Your problem is your cock doesn’t know how to get hard without her picture! You’ve trained yourself, whether you realize it or not. I suspect even if she were waiving her tail right in front of you, you’d have the same problem since she’s not on paper!”
Krris shook his head. “No… it definitely gets hard when I see her.” “Oh! Okay. Well, there’s one theory shot. I know men, Krris, but I’m not one myself as you may have noticed. My knowledge only goes so far. But I have a plan.”

The Sword of St. Michael – Ovation

Author’s note:

Sorry for the hiatus. I had a Prequel-related art project I wanted to get done (that’s finished now) and needed to decide what story to tell next. I’ve decided to go with one that focuses on K’rris, the Khajiit guard and his ongoing obsession with Udaran. I’ve got the overall story line completed now and will start on writing the individual postings.

But also I like to end my stories with a bit of a conceit.(see http://www.writersbootcamp.com/conceits.asp for the definition I’m referring to here ) And that is that the stories are a sort of play by actors. So even those that are killed come back for a last ovation. I didn’t do that with The Sword of St. Michael, so here it is – bawdy as expected – with the major characters posing one last time. Devilah get’s to be the only one with clothing. (Well, it IS NSFW after all!)

So just consider this my notice that a new story is coming and the hiatus should only be a few more days.

The Sword of St. Michael – Epilogue

Later, after they had settled into the unoccupied cabin… “And… I won’t be bothered by Hell anymore?” asked Devilah, her eyes bright with hope. “Nope. No more than any other mortal anyway. You are the proverbial ‘One That Got Away’”. Devilah looked at Sampson. “I guess I’m sorta homeless now.” “Join the crowd, Devilah.” “As long as we’re together, Sampson, I think I’ll be just fine.”
Devilah looked at the ragged fur ‘armor’ that Sampson had found. “I suppose I could conjure up something instead,” Devilah offered. “I suspect you’ll find that’s a bit of magic you can no longer do, Devilah,” Faniel said predicted. “It’s fine, Devilah,” Sampson assured her. “For now anyway.” Devilah tried anyway, but as expected, nothing happened. “Tell me, Faniel, is there anything you don’t know?”
“Oh, plenty! When I was an Angel I had a sort of knowledge of the future. But now… not so much.” “…nor proper posture when in the presence of males I see. We’ll need to work on that.” Devilah noted. “What do you mean?” “You just gave Sampson a serious hard-on. Don’t worry about it for now, but if you’re not going to wear clothes, there are some rules you’ll need to learn. Like ‘knees together’ for a start.” Sampson interrupted, eager to change the subject, “So! Anyone up for a midnight snack?”
“Later Sampson,” Faniel suggested. “Right now we need to sleep. I think I saw a lake nearby. Can you catch fish?” Sampson shrugged, “I can sure try!” “Then let’s get some sleep and you can catch some fish for breakfast. Sleep isn’t something I’ve done before, but this body seems to desire it. What would be the… er… proper way to sleep in this social situation?” Devilah suggested the Angel sleep at the foot of the bed for tonight anyway, so that she and Sampson could celebrate in their own way. Then Devilah went out to wash a bit. She found she too had a desire for sleep. Perhaps this was another new aspect of her mortal life that she’d have to get used to.
When she returned, Sampson was snoring like an Argonian. The Angel was nowhere in sight. “Dammit,” she thought to herself, “I could really use a good… celebration too. Oh well, at least I’ve got Mr. Sparky till the batteries run out.” She began rummaging through her inventory. Then rummaging again. Then desperately taking everything out one-by-one. It wasn’t there. Faniel stepped in. “What are you looking for?”
A growing sense of realization began to come over Devilah. “Um… Faniel… when Agrat sent that ‘essence’ away. You said it had to occupy some object, right?” “Yes. Why?” “Could it have occupied something in my inventory, and been blown away along with it?”
“Oh yes, that’s very likely. It would seek to embed itself into anything even vaguely swordlike as soon as it left Sampson’s sword. That’s kind of how it got there in the first place.” “Well FUCK!”
Some hours earlier, far away in a storage room in Whiterun, the Argonian lover of the Jarl was wandering around, looking for anything of interest. She sat down in frustration. Suddenly, she heard a noise far off in a corner as if something had fallen through the quite substantial ceiling above. If truth be told, the noise gave her quite a fright. “Is anybody there?” she asked to the dark. The only thing she heard was an odd buzzing noise. Slowly, she traced it to it’s source. “What the hell is this?” she thought, bringing the oddly shaped device out into the light. It vibrated in her hand. It looked like a… well, a rather large and black penis to be blunt about it. On the back was a button. She pushed it and the buzzing stopped, yet some inner power still hummed somehow.
A smile crept over her reptilian visage. She pushed the button again. Again it began it’s vibration. The smile became wider and took on perhaps a touch of mischievousness. Then she left to clean up her new toy.
“Oh Jarlyhorse… I’ve got a surprise for you!” “Oh? What is it?” “Don’t peek! Just hand me that jar of oil would you?” The Jarl of Whiterun smiled. This oil had some quite specific uses that had nothing to do with cooking. “Now, turn over…”
Far away, a mortal angel sat up from a nightmare suddenly, her eyes wide with a mingling of horror and disgust. Inside the cabin, her two companions were going at it like rabbits, but she couldn’t care less. The image in her mind was far more disturbing than anything those two lovers were up to. “I have to retrieve that?!” she thought. She looked up at the sky and mentally shouted “This is too cruel. I told you it was an accident!” When no answer was forthcoming, she looked over at the lovers now rutting like two animals in heat and sighed, “I hate my life.”

The Sword of St. Michael #16

“It means I don’t have to put up with your shit any longer!” screamed Devilah. By the time Agrat swung her head around to see the Succubus in motion behind her, the blade was already thrusting up to impale her. “STOP!” she thundered with all the power of command she held, but the Succubus didn’t even slow down. If there was anything she knew with certainty, it was that angels don’t lie.
The demon Agrat felt the blade – so much more than a normal blade – pierce her from bottom to top. A normal blade she would have survived, but this was no normal blade. Where it cut her body, it stayed cut. She felt her life ebbing away…
In her death-throes Agrat reverted back to her natural, fiery form and Devilah lost her grip on the sword. However, it remained inside Agrat’s writhing body and the demon summoned all her remaining power to try and blast away the essence of the Sword that had already killed her.
Sampson and Faniel’s chains disappeared as the demon expired, leaving them sprawled on the ground as they were blasted by Agrat’s last spell. Devilah saw the sword clatter away to one side before she closed her eyes against the explosion.
“Sampson!” was the first thing Devilah could bring to her lips when the shock had died away as she raced to the unconcious man. Sampson opened his eyes at her touch, though, and smiled up at the Succubus. “Devilah. Are you alright?” Devilah nodded. “For now. But I don’t seem to be able to create a portal anymore. Unless this… angel can help, I’m afraid something’s going to break in here any minute.
Sampson jumped up at that and grabbed the sword. He hefted it clumsily in his hands. "What is it?” Devilah asked Sampson.
“It feels different. I think it’s lost it’s power!” “Oh shit,” said Faniel. They both looked at her. “What? An angel can’t say ‘shit’? Jeeze, what kinda prudes do you think we are up in heaven? May I see the sword? Please?”
Sampson gave the sword to Faniel who sat down dejectedly on the floor, somewhat dazed after hefting it. “Shit,” she said again. “It’s gone.”
“What’s gone?” “The Sword of St. Michael. Well… it’s essence anyway. The demon blasted it away. Now I’ve got to find it again. What a pain in the ass.”
“Um…. Faniel?” Devilah asked tentatively. “Yes Devilah?” she looked up with a smile. “Can you get us out of here?” The angel climbed to her feet. “No. Afraid not. But it’s okay. We’ll be back in Skyrim in, oh, about 30 seconds I believe.”
“BEGONE!” a thunderous voice rumbled over the three. “YOU DO NOT BELONG IN THIS PLACE! LEAVE NOW AND DO NOT RETURN!” “Is that…?” Sampson asked, eyes wide. “I think so!” Devilah said, wonderingly. Meanwhile Faniel was pointing at a portal that had just appeared. “Who cares who it is, RUN FOR IT!”

The Sword of St. Michael #15

And she didn’t. Suddenly, an extremely white light appeared within the cave. White was simply not a color of Hell, and it’s presence was as unexpected and out-of-place as a snowman. It pierced her eyelids, and even as she opened them it began to fade.
Devilah tried to focus on what Agrat was looking at, but her eyes couldn’t make it out. She could certainly hear Agrat’s scream though.. “WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?”
“Hi Devilah, Hi Sampson!” came a high pitched voice that Devilah didn’t recognize, seemingly ignoring that of Agrat.
“You… you’re an ANGEL!? You don’t belong here! You are forbidden entrance to this cursed place!” “Oh! I’m sorry,” said the newcomer, still ignoring Agrat as the brilliance dimmed. Devilah could now make out the outlines of a rather impressively built light skinned human. As the woman continued speaking in that incongruously innocent tone, Devilah realized now that she could see wings behind the form. “We’ve not been properly introduced. Sampson, I’m called Faniel,” she said while stepping up to Sampson. She stood hesitantly for a moment, suddenly realizing he had no free hands, then grasped his penis delicately and shook it in greeting. “Well, give it just a few minutes Sampson and you’ll be out of this.”
“WHAT?!” screamed Agrat, totally unbelieving that this could be happening in her own domain. With a wave of her hand, suddenly Faniel found herself hung on chains of her own. “Oh my!” Faniel squeaked. “This is quite uncomfortable! I’m sorry Devilah, I suppose I’ll have to talk to it.” With that, the winged intruder focused on Agrat.
“You have no power here, ANGEL! Get out of here before I entertain myself with your damned virgin body! I can barely stand to look at you!” Agrat spat. “No power? Perhaps you forget, demon, the Creator made all – yes, even your little pit here. His power is everywhere, no matter what you like to pretend.”
“Perhaps, Angel, but you aren’t him. You can do nothing here. Look at you, you don’t even shave yourself properly!” “Hey,” squeaked the Angel in a clear and definite whine, “That’s a low blow. I just transfigured into this body. I haven’t had a chance to do anything with it yet!”
“Besides,” continued the Angel, “I don’t need to do anything, demon. I just need to utter seven little words, and you will be destroyed. I don’t suppose you would consider turning to the Good before that happens? Kind of a last-minute-warning sort of thing.” “You’re insane. It’s those feathers. Got into your brain I think. Would you like to be deflowered by a creature from the pit here? I was going to use him on Sampson, but I think he could do you both quite well.” “I pity you demons. No imagination. Sorry demon, but that won’t happen. You won’t live another 5 minutes.”
“What the hell can you do Angel!? You can’t even save yourself.” “Devilah,” the Angel turned to her with a smile. All faces turned to the little Khajiit-shaped female huddling by the edge of the cave. “You are not a minion of Hell.”
Agrat turned back to the Angel. “What can you possibly mean by that? Of course she is! The stupid cum-drinker is my slave. Now shut up you!” Meanwhile, the synapses in Devilahs brain had fired so quickly that her muscles were in motion before Faniel’s last syllable was finished and Agrat turned back to the Angel. Even Sampson didn’t realize what was happening. “Do you know what Devilah did last night, demon Agrat? Devilah knelt and prayed to the Creator. Do you know what that means?” Faniel smiled dispite her uncomfortable position, holding Agrat’s attention a split second longer so that she didn’t notice the sound of metal on stone.

The Sword of St. Michael #12

Devilah let Sampson contemplate that while she put her clothes back on. When he still hadn’t responded, she asked him, “Sampson, do you know the word? Do you know what a succubus is?” Sampson struggled to speak. “Uh… A… succubus?” “Yes, a succubus. I am a denizen of the underworld. A kind of devil. I live by eating the semen of men. I break their willpower and thrive on their lust. I’ve had more men in more ways than you can conceive of, and I’m not exaggerating at all. It’s what I do Sampson. Do you understand? I am a devil, quite literally.”
“A devil?” Sampson managed. “Sure! A devil. A minion of Evil. A Really Bad Guy. I am the kind of creature you would kill if you’d known. Well, now you know,” she explained. “You can’t be! You… we killed those assassins… we fought evil! It makes no sense!”
“Sampson, Sampson… See these wings? Do you think they’re imaginary? I assure you they are not. I am what I am, and I am not a Khajiit. Khajiit have no wings. This is my true form Sampson. The wings are part of me. I am what you see. I was sent to break your will and your vow. What you don’t comprehend is that you are really a Hero, Sampson. People like you change history. Breaking your vow would have earned me more respect in the Underworld than you can imagine. Killing a few assassins is nothing…” She sat beside him and began to tell the whole story, breaking to answer his questions. It took a long time. It was late afternoon when she felt her explanation of what she was and her original mission were understood properly. “But,” he protested. “You’ve not had any men since you’ve been with me!”
She shook her head. “Wrong again. Remember that ‘plumbing’ job back in Markarth? Remember that guy that proposed marriage? Sampson, three months ago I had an orgy with every man in the Bee and Barb. And the women for that matter. Sampson, you must understand. I am a succubus, and all that implies. But… I’ve gotten in trouble. I fell for you Sampson, and I’ve been running away from my master in Hell. Three months ago, she found me and took me to Hell. She… well, she tried to torture me anyway. But she didn’t understand me. Anyway, she sent me back with two tasks eventually. One was to steal your sword. It’s a very special sword Sampson. You wouldn’t understand, but it’s very, very powerful against evil creatures.” “And the other?” Sampson asked, still stunned by the revelations. “I am to kill you, Sampson.”
Sampson nodded. This was something he could understand. “So… are you going to?” Now it was Devilah’s turn to be confused. “Am I going to what? Kill you? Sampson, I just told you I’ve been sent to assassinate you. That’s not something an assassin does you know!” Sampson smiled. “You’ve revealed a lot of things to me, Dev. Some I still don’t understand. Most I don’t want to understand. But if I understand this right, you can return to your full rank if you kill me. So, do so.” Devilah stared at him. “You know I can’t do that! Sampson, I am a succubus, but I’m not all that strong! My power is in my allure. Sure I have a few little spells available to me related to my talents. I can put people to sleep, I can increase their lust and decrease their inhibitions a bit. But I’m no mage in human sense. I can’t kill you!”.
“You can if I let you,” Sampson said simply. “You would let me kill you?” “Yes, Devilah. I would.” “Oh Sampson, you idiot. No! That’s not the only reason I can’t kill you. I told you before, I love you.”
“Well, there is that… so, what if you just don’t kill me?” Sampson asked, standing and helping Devilah to her feet. “Then she will send hellhounds after you. Sampson, you don’t know what those are. But they will kill you. They are practically immortal, and they don’t stop Sampson. You cannot kill them, and they won’t stop until they kill you. They are expensive for Agrat to use. They can be killed by magical means and she can’t send many. But it will only take one. I would guess she’ll send three.”
“Hmm. That is a problem.” “But I have an idea. If I can get the sword back, that sword can kill them.” “Devilah, if I understand all this right, Agrat’s not going to give up my sword easily!”
“No, she’s not. And she’s powerful in her domain. But she’s not there all the time, and she can’t touch the sword so it’s bound to still be where I left it. I just need to sneak in, get the sword, and get out.” “But, won’t she just take you back after that?” Devilah sighed. “Yes, but there’s nothing I can do about that. In the hierarchy of the underworld, I have no choice if she chooses to use her power there. I will do what she commands. But that sword can keep you safe!”
“But… it’s all pointless without you!” Sampson exclaimed. “There must be some way…” “Look, if we can keep you alive we’ll be doing good. There’s no time to argue about this. Agrat expects me back at midnight. I’ve got to get that sword back before then.”

The Sword of St. Michael #11

Dawn came and Sampson, true to his nature, rose and dressed. Devilah looked at him while he dressed. This would be the last time he saw her as a normal mortal. Once she told him all, he would abandon her most likely. She must make him understand exactly what she was and what she had done. All she had done. But he would live. “It must be done,” she tried to convince herself.
“Where’s my sword?” Sampson suddenly shouted. Devilah looked at him. “It’s not the chest nor in my inventory Devilah! Someone stole my sword! In my own room!” Devilah rose and touched him on the shoulder. “Sampson… I took your sword.”
“You? You took my sword? Devilah, anything I have is yours. But why? Where is it?” A tear fell from her eye. It had begun, and nothing she could do now would stop it. She had to tell him everything. “Sampson, it’s a long story. Let’s go for a walk… outside the city.”
Sampson looked at her and noticed the sadness on her face. It practically screamed seriousness. He felt an overwhelming need to assure her. “Whatever it is, Devilah, it will be okay.” At that she lost control and dropped her head, not wanting to look at him but holding his arm for support. “No, it won’t Sampson. But I have to tell you.”
Later, after she’d recomposed herself, they left the tavern. Before leaving Sampson had convinced Keerava to loan him her sword. The wilderness was dangerous, he reminded Devilah, even just outside the city.
“A good blade,” he said to Devilah who feigned interest. “Of course, a bit small for my taste, but I can work with it, if I need to.” Outside they walked without incident until Devilah found a quiet place by a lake and asked Sampson to sit down.
“Sampson, I need to show you something. Something you won’t expect. Sit here and please stay calm. It won’t hurt me, I promise.” Sampson nodded, knowing that – at least for a while, he would not be expected to speak. However, he had no idea what she was talking about. She undressed unceremoniously and he stood to embrace her, uncomprehending her intent. “No no you horny man, sit back down. This isn’t for that reason. Though it is a beautiful place for it. This is to so you’ll know what you’re about to see is me. Sampson, take a good look at me now and remember me this way. After I do what I’m about to do, you may not think of me the same way again.”
He stood and began to protest. “Shut up you fool. Sampson, you’re a good man, but you’re an idiot. Believe me.” “I am, I know,” he laughed, sitting back down. “Prepare yourself, fool. But know this beforehand. Despite everything I’m about to reveal to you… I love you and no one else. No matter what you think later, I do. And because I do, you need to know me.”
Then, out of nowhere, a pair of devilish wings sprouted from her back.
As if to demonstrate their reality, she floated just above the ground under their power. Sampson was struck dumb. His brain could not understand what his eyes were seeing. Whatever the hell this was, it was nothing he expected!
“Sampson. I am a succubus,” Devilah stated flatly. When he offered no response, she sat down beside him and couldn’t help notice him back away slightly. “I know. Weird, right?”

The Sword of St. Michael #10

She set the sword down gingerly on a stone nearby. Agrat approached the sword warily, switching back to human form and feeling the power within the otherwise ordinary looking weapon. She looked at the sword and then back to the succubus. “Well done Devilah! I didn’t expect your progress to be so swift! And the Hero?”
Devilah looked to the floor. “No. I wasn’t able to kill him.” Agrat growled, “Then your work is not yet done.” Devilah protested, “It’s… not an easy thing to do you know!”
“There are denizens here that could have it accomplished in a few seconds, Devilah. I am being lenient with you, but you must do this if you are to redeem yourself,” she insisted. “You know I have a soft spot in my heart for you, Devilah. I would dearly like to restore you to your former status. But as long as Sampson lives you will not be! You were one of our top operatives in Skyrim among your kind. It is shameful to see how far you have fallen. If you do not complete your mission this time, you will be sent to the lowest pits where you will be denied your disgusting ‘needs’ until you perish.”
Devilah pleaded with Agrat, “No! I can still be useful! That Khajiit in Elseweyr you mentioned! I can take care of him like I have the others!” Agrat assumed a friendly tone, “I know you are useful Devilah. Your loss to the cause would be tragic. Just do this one little thing. A dagger to the heart while he’s stabbing your cunt maybe? It would be only right! Hell, do it while he’s in the throes of orgasm and he’ll barely notice. It will be a death he’d be happy to endure! But he MUST DIE Devilah. No more protests. Just do it. If you cannot accomplish this small task by tomorrow night, I will send hellhounds to finish him.”
“No! They’ll tear him to shreds!” “Yes, they will. His death will be agonizing and take hours. He will use all his might. He will stab them, throttle them, but they will not be stopped. You know the hellhounds can’t be killed by mortals, and they are relentless. Finally his throat will be ripped out, but not before he is mauled and partially eaten alive. Devilah, you would be doing him a kindness by ending him quickly. I will expect a favorable report tomorrow night. You will not be given a another chance.” “But… you said a week!” Agrat looked to the sword, as if both repelled and attracted to it. “Oh but you try my patience, Devilah. You’ve done well with the sword. Had I not been personally insulted, that alone would suffice. But…”
“The work of a dagger takes only seconds. You need no more time. Fuck him and slay him. Feel his blood flow over you while his seed flows into you, succubus! It’s your nature, whore! Now go, and when next I see you tomorrow night I expect you to be covered in his gore!”
Devilah was pushed back to Skyrim by Agrat’s power without even opening a portal. She found herself sprawled on the upstairs landing where she had left just minutes before. She heard a clock somewhere chime 1 o’clock. “23 hours,” she thought. Her time was fast running out. She knew hellhounds, and she knew Agrat would do it.
“Now what?” she thought as she re-entered the room. She saw Sampson still sleeping. She began to cry and fell to her knees. For the first time in her life she realized she was out of ideas and that Sampson might die because of her.
Looking up at the ceiling, she did something she’d never dreamed of doing in her long life before. She closed her eyes and prayed. It was a rough prayer, and not devoid of curses and demands. But it was heartfelt, and it was heard.
But nothing happened, and she finally gave up and returned to Sampson’s bed as worried as ever. She did not sleep, however. She thought and thought. And then it came to her, and she knew what she had to do. She had to tell Sampson all. The sword was the key. Dammit, why did she leave it in Hell? The sword could cut through hellhounds like they were dogs. With it and her warning, Sampson could defeat them. She had to get it back. She heard Sampson turn in his sleep.
It wasn’t a solution, she knew, but it was at least something. Something worth celebrating perhaps? She debated if she should awaken Sampson or just let him sleep. But then she glanced down at his manhood and suddenly it was no longer up for debate. They’d already made love once tonight after all, once more wouldn’t hurt anything. The only question remaining was how suddenly should she wake him. She opted for the gentle tongue-massage method, to which he responded as expected. It was nice to find that some of her schemes actually went as planned! She was good at this anyway. She was good at penises.

The Sword of St. Michael #9

Sampson and Devilah returned to the Bee and Barb to eat. While Devilah was certainly disappointed in what Sampson had chosen to do while she was away, he had commitments to Keerava that he had to keep, so she found herself in a back room talking with Keerava while Sampson went out to do some roof repairs. “Well he certainly has improved a lot in just a few hours, I must say,” Keerava admitted. “I suppose you will be leaving soon though. I’ll miss having him around you know.” Devilah noted the sincerity in the Argonian’s voice. “I imagine so! It must be nice having a hero fix your roof!” she said, smiling and hoping she managed to leave any snarkyness out of her voice. She had been unexpectedly kind to Sampson after all..
“Didn’t look like any hero yesterday! But you’re right. It’s good you’re back… I guess.” “Um… Keerava… About that night.” Keerava shook her head. “Weren’t no night. And nobody’s said a thing to Sampson. I suspect if they had, they’d have lost their head by now.” “Or something…“ Devilah agreed.
"That’s good,” Devilah purred. “Things might have gotten a little out of hand.” Keervara leaned close to Devilah. “I’ll say! I’m pregnant!”
“Pregnant?!” Devilah sputtered. “Talen-Jei?” “I have to assume so. He’s the only Argonian that was here. Unless some fertility deity has been messing with biology again! No thanks to you…” “I’m sorry Keerava. These things just happen around me. I didn’t intend…”
“Oh hush girl. It’s not like you forced me to. Besides, I could use a little clutch around here. I’ll need to take a vacation to the Black Marsh, but I’m kinda looking forward to the little squirts. I suppose I’ll have to marry that damned guy. I’ll be lucky if I don’t catch a new batch of eggs every damn time with him in my bed! Still, don’t tell him. I’ll get him to propose and sleep with him after that. It’ll be close enough.” “Well, if we get a chance, we’ll drop back in sometime and see your… brood.” “Do that. I’ll name one of them after you.” “You’d name one ‘Devilah’? That’s very sweet of you. It’s certainly not an Argonian name!” “Oh, not ‘Devilah’. ‘Horny Fucking Cat’. But it sounds better in Jel.”
When Devilah had recovered herself, she gave Keerava a hearty slap on the back. “You’re okay Keerava!” “Don’t get too friendly, Dev, the others might think we’re lovers!” “Well… we kinda… were there for a few minutes.” “SHHH!” Keerava hissed, but then added conspiratorially, accompanied by a firm slap on Devilah’s ass, “…and it was a half hour at bare minimum.”
The afternoon passed slowly till Sampson returned, after his work was done. He looked like all grin and ears when he walked in the door and he swept Devilah off her feet. “Come on Devilah, we’re going out!” It turned out Sampson had been doing more than just working on the roof all day. In fact, he’d gotten a commission from the Jarl to do a small task and had received a bit of coin for it. So he’d bought a small present for the Khajiit and they spent the early evening strolling around outside Riften.
Then they returned to their room where Keerava had sent up a special dinner – no charge. There the two talked for a while, and then made love gently but passionately as if for the first time. Devilah knew better of course, but she was overcome with emotion when finally Sampson collapsed on top of her and she felt him slowly withdraw as he fell to sleep there. This, she decided, would be their ‘official’ first time. Though less energetic and voluminous than the real first time, it had been much more passionate. The acrobatics could come later. If there was a later.
Suddenly as she dozed, she realized it was approaching midnight. She slid from underneath Sampson and quietly dressed again. She looked around and found the Sword. Had she not seen it in action, she would have thought it was the same as any sword really. It was large, but not particularly ornate or even rust-free. Still, she knew undoubtedly that this was indeed the Sword of St. Michael. A hum of power throbbed underneath her hands as she lifted it up the likes of which she had never experienced before.
She shut the doors to the room, but didn’t dare to take the sword downstairs where late night customers might notice her. Instead she opened the portal right there and took the sword with her. Agrat was there, waiting.