The Mixing of Blood
Trenz can't believe his luck. The pure-blood Argonian he's just met has agreed to let him lead her out of the Inn and around toward the back rooms...
A bit of fun. Fairly short and standalone. Any resemblance to TES is purely due to Argonian girls being hawt, and everything else is completely made up.
Trenz watched the candle burn towards the dish. He kept track of its progress by glancing up every so often, his work constant and steady, his eyes falling closed every few thrusts with what he was feeling. The pure-blooded Argonian beneath him moaned louder with every passing minute, her voice filling the small, shack-like room with feminine exertions and sweet, delicious cries.
He couldn't believe she'd allowed this.
The candle had lost at least an inch, maybe more, and his muscles were tight. He'd tried to persuade her out of pure bravado and opportunity, plying her with food and drink, telling her of the Sreth women he'd bedded and assuring her he would last more than long enough to give her the pleasure she craved.
He closed his eyes and gave a guttural groan. He couldn't believe it had worked. To his amazement, despite the taboo instilled into her from birth and the fact they'd be executed if discovered, she'd listened to him and been persuaded. She'd held him outside the room and agreed that, as long as he could last long enough, then she would let him leave the woven sheath she'd brought in her satchel so their coupling could be as bare as nature intended.
Trenz groaned deeper and kept his thrusts strong and constant. The purge of the mixed-bloods lay heavy in his mind, the memories from his childhood strong and terrible - the rounding up of any that had diluted her Argonain race with his own, that had fouled their blood, and how their heads were sent rolling into the ditches.
He felt her, what she was letting him do, what she was letting him have. Her kind were so fiercely protective of their women and their blood; to actually find one of their females seeking out a Sreth male?
He winced and groaned, overcome by it, then caught himself. He couldn't lose control. He couldn't afford to. He opened his eyes and looked down at her on one of the inn's dirtier beds, her mouth open and her pleasingly large breasts rocking back and fourth. Her arms lay limp and she kept lifting her head back against the covers, her moans urgent and pained, her eyes closed.
She was so beautiful, so purely Argonian - her scales smooth and dark green, her patterns in black running over her chest, neck, and face, her head covered with only small ridges. Her toned legs lay up against both of his shoulders, her clawed feet pointed up in the air, her thighs against his chest. He slid free and easy between her legs, his thrusts nursing her closer and closer towards the climax she craved.
He couldn't slow or let up now. She was in that daze of pleasure that you couldn't interrupt, that you had to hold a woman at for as long as it took to bring her up and over the edge.
A shocked gasp left him and he hung his head, still thrusting, the sensations of her so raw they sapped his stamina far faster than a woman of his own race ever would. He winced and thrust deep and steady, turning his head like her, letting his groans escape into the room.
She'd been perched on a bench in the tavern when he'd walked in half-drunk. Bare legs crossed, dress tucked up, her yellow eyes following him to the bar. He hadn't expected a pure-blood Argonian female to go anywhere near a Sreth male like him, but she'd sat beside him and they'd drunk a few tankards until he'd gotten the reasons from her. It turned out the last few Sreth women he'd bedded had talked about him down at the docks, and his reputation for looking good without a tunic or breeches and lasting long enough to put them through two or three screaming orgasms had traveled to her ears.
But the feelings coursing through him now; he looked down at her again and knew she was different, that a pure-blood Argonian was more than he'd ever expected to have. Her green-scaled beauty was as intoxicating as the moans coming from her open mouth. She was close to cumming now, but so was he. He couldn't stop looking at her, watching an Argonian woman take pleasure from her mating by a Sreth male, watching her reactions as he nursed her with his bright orange, tapered, spotted Sreth manhood, his hard brown scales and jutting bone blades at once similar and utterly alien to her.
Her eyes opened and she gazed half-lidded up at him, her tongue licking her lips and her Argonian face full of how much she was loving their mixed-blood sex.
He couldn't resist her - he started thrusting harder and faster despite his pounding heart and the raw twinges of pleasure shooting through his loins.
She yelped and writhed against the bed, overcome, her legs moving against his shoulders and her clawed hands pulling up fist-fulls of the sheets.
The edge came towards him. It had that ultimate finality to it; that it would be the most incredible thing he'd ever felt, but giving in for even a second would push him over and there'd never be any coming back. It was unthinkable though. Both their lives would be over. She'd never forgive him for seeding her, and neither would either of their kinds. They'd be executed tomorrow. For an Argonian woman to birth mixed-blood hatchlings was the ultimate taboo and carried such pain of death that she would likely carry it out herself before they could be born. He groaned and fought it, her silky pussy belying so much danger, her beauty hiding so much risk.
Her eyes were open and she was watching him - watching him fight to hold on, to endure the pleasure her body was lavishing on him. She could tell how good she felt for his exotic malehood; it was in her eyes, the sly delight and gloating sparkle, her confident smile sultry and mixed with calling looks and licks of her tongue as she wallowed in their taboo act.
Trenz tried to steel himself and fight it, but gazing into her eyes weakened him a little further and he moaned into the room, his eyes closing and his muscles tense. He balanced on the precipice, the blood pounding in his ears and through his loins, his sensitive Sreth penis thicker than she was used to and tight inside her. Panic surged through him and he clawed back, still thrusting deep and steady, focusing on the one thought that could still reach him - if he just endures this, if he can last long enough to give her the climax she craves, she'll be his, and he'll be laying with an Argonian goddess for weeks or months to come.
Her moans turned heartfelt and ragged and she writhed under him, her pleasure so intense she could barely vocalize it any more.
Her body called on him to cum, to let his eyes roll up into his head and admit to himself that she was too much, to relax and let the edge rush forward and pass him by, and to plunge head-first into the muscle-wrenching euphoria that would see her seeded deep and certain with his hatchlings.
Trenz fought harder, grunting and groaning, the muscles in his chest so hard they defined every one of his lines. The candle had burned another quarter inch down. He closed his eyes to try to stem the torrent of feeling but images of her flashed through his head, the pure-blood Argonian perched bare-legged and sexy on that bench in the inn, her bare breasts swollen with milk, her arms cradling their mixed-blood hatchlings as they fed from her nipples, their forbidden lovemaking already leaving her heavily pregnant with their next clutch.
Panic stabbed through his gut and he blinked his eyes open. He was too close. He had to slow down, but even that wouldn't be enough; he had to stop. He needed to pull out of her or the pleasure wouldn't fully leave his loins.
But she was yelping, shouting, crying on the verge an orgasm so hard it would surely seduce her for good.
He was still in control. He could last long enough to give it to her. He still had another few minutes of steady thrusting in him. He'd fucked enough and made love to enough of his own women to know, to be certain. So he climbed forward over her, bending her legs further back against his chest, and thrust good and deep into the Argonian with dazed delight.
Her scream echoed from the walls. Her legs tensed in against him and her claws ripped lines through the sheets. She came so hard her thighs rolled in against his stomach, her whole body curling around his thrusting Sreth cock, her head thrown back and her teeth bared in the dim room.
Trenz looked up at the candle and sucked in a breath of amazement. He gazed at the flame in a dream, everything in slow motion, the terror and panic numb in his chest. The edge lay behind him, passed and gone, her Argonian pussy squeezed down tight on his thrusting cock, the feeling new and incredible. All sense of control slipped away and his body moved on its own, the blood pounding into his head and lifting him onto a plateau of pleasure he'd never imaged before, the realization arriving with the first thick rope of Sreth seed to shoot inside her.
His eyes stayed open with the panic. He came with her, succumbing to her, thrusting harder and faster and hilting into her as deep as he could. Rope after rope of thick, fertile Sreth seed shot straight into her, his orgasm passing the intensity of regular sex and into the forbidden depths of something deeply taboo.
He couldn't stop. She was too much, too sexy and Argonian, and he couldn't stop. He managed to look down at her pussy through the blistering euphoria and watch his white seed seep out around his thrusting cock. It overflowed from her and ran both ways, down between her heart-shaped ass to the base of her tail and up over her smooth abdomen to her bellybutton.
He couldn't believe it was actually happening. Her gorgeous pure-blood Argonian body was a pool of clear water below him and his seed was mud spilling into her, clouding and tainting her forever. Her pure lineage was no longer something to admire with respect and jealously - it was his to sink his claws into and corrupt. Every drop he spilled made it surer and surer that he would mix with her blood and her kind against her will. He watched it happen in paralyzed rapture while she just lay back and cried out in pleasure, seduced and writhing on a Sreth's malehood, completely oblivious to her fate.
She screamed one last time and unclenched her pussy around his still-cumming cock. Her head stayed back and she gasped for breath, a dazed look of wonder on her face, her smile full of how incredible that had felt.
He looked into her eyes and hilted deeply as the last thick squirts left the end of his long, tapered penis, his balls squeezed painfully dry against her, his instincts emptying them to the last.
Her eyes changed. She looked up at him and saw the awe in his gaze, the disbelief and heavy glow of pleasure, and she stared in shock, then horror, and then she lifted her head up and saw the white seed leaking out of her body and stared, stricken beyond any kind of words or actions.
He just shuddered and groaned in the afterglow, so impossibly sensitive inside her, the deep, taboo reality of what he'd done seeping cold through his heart. Desperation bloomed through him;could she have secretly wanted this? Is that why she'dagreed to haveunprotected sex with a Srethdespite the taboo and risk? Could she actually_want_ to have mixed-bloodhatchlings, even though they'reconsidered a foul abomination and killed by her ownkind on sight?
She watched his seed seep out for another long moment, gasping for air, then looked back up into his eyes. "Youfilth," she whispered.
He looked her over, her bare breasts belowhimand her shapely legs beside his head. "I couldn't stop it," he groaned, the absurdity of the words plain in the air.
Her hands gripped the sheets and her lips pulled back from her teeth. "You said you wouldn't!"
Her legs moved away from his shoulders, her bare feet pulled back in front of his face, and the next thing he knew his back was bent over the edge of the bed and his jaw hurtlike absolute hell.
He managed to turn his headandwatch her dart around naked tosnatch her clothes from the floor. A long trickle of his seed ran down herinnerleg and left drops on the stone- it stirredshame and deep satisfaction in him as she pulledher dress on and fled without her underwear, unlocking and throwing the door aside and disappearing out into the night.
Trenzstood alone outside the inn. The Sreth wench he'd been plying walked away down the street, her arms wrapped around a shortermale from the docks who'd come to the town earlier that day.
He didn't care, and it killed him inside.
He couldn't stop thinking about the Argonian. The things he'd felt when he came inside her - nothing had been able to get close. Not thetimes he'd tried to touch himself, not the fantasies and dreams about her that came to him every evening and morning.
The Sreth women at the Inn could tell he didn't care about them now. That he didn't need or want another of his kind. It had been two weeks and he'd been without relief or release since he'd had her. His penis stood stiff at night now and leaked seed into his sheets and breeches. He needed an Argonian. He needed her.
He'd already trekked the seven hours down to the docks and tried to find her. None of his contacts or sketchyacquaintanceshad seen a pure-blood Argoniansince the day she arrived. He'd asked around further and none had heard of her either.Thereliefhe'd felt had been intense, though he'd hidden it - her kindhadn't yetdiscovered them and come to kill him.
There was always the chance that fate would spare them both and his seed would fail to lay her pregnant. It seemed a slim hope, but it was there. She may have fled home and buried the secret of him, to never speak of the day she allowed her lust to overcome her and leave her screaming in climax with a bare Sreth cock between herlegs.
He sighed and threw the empty tankard down the street. It clunked onto the dirt road and rolled a few times before ending up in a ditch.When would she know? When would the signs start to appear? A month?
He shook his head and set off towards his shack. Thetownwas empty and so was he. He pictured her perched on that bench again, bare-legged and sexy, herclawedfeet posed on the floor and her low-cut dress pulled down to let one of their mixed-blood hatchlings drink from her breast.
Dear lords, he thought.Hear me. I have sinned greatly and sullied something beautiful and pure. But I wish with every call to every god that I have seeded that beautiful creature, that my hatchlings grow within her, and that she returns to me so that we may raise them together, and make many, many more.
Hereached the door to his hut and paused. He searched the darkness around the slum, looking for her, wanting her to be huddled in some robes in the shadows, waiting for him. But she wasn't. So he went in, pulled the cap on a bottle, and blotted out the world in twelve long,gulpingswigs.
Trenzhad woken up with someone holdinga knife in his face exactly three times. The first was a Sreth girl upset about him 'taking advantage' of her drunkenness, the seconda barmaid after a night down at the public houses by the docks, and the thirdwas his mother.
He blinked at it. Long and thin, with a clean steel blade andrecent marks from a whetstone. He shifted his focus to the black leather handle and the dark-green scaled hand holding it, then to the figure kneeling above him,andbroke into a smile.
She glared down at him like somekind of stain on a fine garment. Her hand shook a little, but she held the blade steady and straight above his neck.
She was so beautiful. He smiled andmade no move to get up. "I haven't stopped thinking about you."
"Quiet," she snapped. Her hand hovered on the verge of plunging down, but stayed still.
"I'd know your name before you cut my throat."
Her eyes moved to his, and she looked into them. A moment passed, then she snapped them away and glared at his neck where the blade rested. "Lissen. My name is Lissen."
"Lissen," he breathed. He looked at her more closely. She was dirty, her clothes ragged and torn. "Have you been sleeping outside?"
"Stop speaking!" She pressed the blade against his throat, leaning on his scales, the metal cold and biting. She glared in a mania of terror and rage, her muscles twitching on the verge of cutting in.
"Argonian," he breathed, looking into her eyes, "I would ravish you, Argonian, and I would hold you down this time while I sew my seed in you."
She blinked, caught off guard, and searched his eyes with her hold still steady on the blade.
"I have only been able to think of how it felt to breed you," he continued, keeping his voice deep and his expression full of the lust he felt. "If you don't yet carry my hatchlings, then this is your one chance, female. You can cut my throat now, or I will see the weakness in you, and I will take you and have you scream while I seed your Argonain womb again and again."
He could see her cloth rags twitching against the top of her breast with her pounding heart. She stared down at him with terror and vile hatred, but there, just there, in the center of her eyes...
"I am dangerous to your kind, Argonian," he whispered. "You have shown me the touch of your women, of what it feels to mate with your kind, and I can's stop thinking of it."
"Stop!" She pushed the blade down but it shook against his scales, her face full of the conflict inside her, the things he'd woken catching her off guard.
"You lusted for a Sreth male," he rumbled, "and you haven't cut my throat because you lust for more, for me to take you to use you, because you know what mating with you has awakened in me."
"Stop it, be silent!" She shook her head, close to tears, her hands shaking the knife against his throat.
"Kill me, Argonian," he spat. "Kill me and save your womb, your race. Our hatchlings would be a blight that would infect your kind, that would soil your pure blood with every one of you that our sons and daughters seduce."
Her breaths had gone ragged and she stared down in open horror. She gasped for air as though she were beneath him in the throes of pleasure, her whole body quaking with it, her grip loosened on the knife.
He lunged his arm up into her wrists. The knife bit into the tops of his scales and spun away to clatter onto the floor.
Lissen screamed. She moved to crawl towards the door, but his hand snapped around the base of her tail and hauled her back towards him.
He fell upon her in ravenous abandon. He tore the rags from her naked body and gripped her arms as she fought, then dragged her to his straw bed and pinned her arms to the floor.
Lissen screamed as his Sreth manhood found her Argonian sex wet and eager for him. He groaned in awe and started thrusting into her, his celibate weeks of denial ended inside her silky, unwed embrace.
She stopped screaming and started yelping, looking up at him, her face full of the conflict of horror and lust that he'd seen through her defenses. She screamed and thrashed against his hold, her eyes turned down to stare at his bright orange and tapered Sreth manhood sliding into her again and again. She weakened and watched it, her Argonain pussy so welcoming, then tipped her head back and moaned into the room.
Trenz's heart pounded. She relaxed and moaned louder, letting him take her, all sense of resistance or hope of escape gone from her pleasure-stricken face. She lifted her legs against his hips and pointed her toe-claws at the far wall as he thrust. Her body called on him to cum, to sew his Sreth seed in an Argonian womb again, and he gasped, giving in to it, welcoming it, letting her bouncing breasts and smooth, sexy legs against his scales drain the little stamina he had until he was groaning and hurtling towards the edge too fast to stop. He moaned with her, about to lose in a humiliating defeat to her, to succumb before he could make her climax, but the sheer need to breed her pounded everything else away and he cried out into the room, reared up over her, hilted and cumming, her legs open in the air and her shocked, awe-struck stare on his face.
Trenz held Lissen and breathed with her. She writhed with him, both of them delirious and lost in each other's embrace and the intensity of their mixed-blood sex. Her legs were wrapped tightly around him, her hands on his shoulder and head, her moans and breaths in his mouth as she kissed him.
Trenz let his eyes roll upwards and groaned for her, loving her, his Sreth penis so familiar and comfortable inside her now that she often let him thrust slowly like this in the slick bath of his own seed, her body filled with it, his loins still hard for her after succumbing.
He moved a hand to her breasts and felt her Argonian figure, their sin so absolute and committed that he'd already begun to think of her as his wife. The bliss ran so deep that every time with her was like his first time again, and every climax and spilling of Sreth seen in an Argonian womb felt like a triumph and an ecstasy for his race.
Her claws traced his head and her hands felt the bone blades behind his cheeks and along his jaw. She exalted in it. In her betrayal of her race, in the taboo depths of her act. He knew it now; she wallowed in her sin, in feeling his Sreth traits and features with every opportunity, her eyes drawn to the differences of his race and his Sreth masculinity, and always to the exotic sight of his brightly colored and spotted malehood sliding unimpeded between her green-scaled folds, sparing her nothing of the risks or the demeaning submission of her kind to his.
He kissed her back in delirium and ran his hands over her dry, smooth scales in possessive sweeps of his arms. She belonged to him. Her body belonged to him. He felt her and brought her closer under the dirty sheets, settling some of his weight over her and pinning her against the mattress. She moaned and writhed, caressing his loins inside her, his seed leaking out of her and running down his shaft to his balls.
She was his and her body was his, but her womb belonged to the future of his kind and the ruination of her own.
Lissen posed for him. That dress lay rolled up against her thighs, her long legs tucked up and bare, her cleavage deep in its scant hem, her feet lifted and her toe-claws on the floor.
He stared at her round, pregnant belly and swollen breasts with the same smile that always came over him now. Her clutch of eggs was large and well along now, and she'd soon be giving birth to the first mixed-bloods to hatch and walk the land for a generation.
They lay together in the cave they'd fled to a month later, both of their bodies wrapped around the eggs laing in straw between them, her smile on his and their noses nudging together.
Trenz watched them from beneath a nearby tree. Lissen was back at their hidden den in the Blackmarsh, the rest of their offspring with her.
Letne was their oldest and he'd been having luck with the girls of the nearby village. His Sreth traits were little known in this remote part of the Blackmarsh, his mix of green and tan patches and bone spines and blades a curiosity rather than an evil taboo.
He was having more luck than usual today. Trenz watched his son kiss the pure-blood girl, her laughs turning to giggles and then to bleats as his son lost his virginity. Excitement pounded through him as he watched them mate, the Argonian girl oblivious to the Sreth blood flowing in her lover's veins. Letne came quickly and made certain to seed her - she looked up at him in awe and allowed it as though it were right and natural, then lay with him and held him afterwards.
It was a year later until all of their sons had conquered an Argonian female for themselves, and another until their daughters had each seduced an Argonian male. The blood of his kind pounded in their veins as they mated with their lovers, his race in his son's seed and his daughter's waiting eggs. His sons spread it to their women and his daughters blended it with their men, and he lived long enough to see his tan scales and bone blades rupture from the skin of more and more green-scaled hatchlings until the village's blood had mixed too far to ever become pure.
And as he lay with Lissen, the two of them old and satisfied, they watched beautiful women and strong men with Sreth blood head off to other villages and towns, and knew they'd began something that couldn't and wouldn't be stopped.