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“…No? Pretty sure they don’t exist.” Marcurio states.
“I mean, don’t believe so anyway. In all my studies of magic, and forces of the Aedra and Daedra it seems implausible for what’s essentially a
lizard
to become a werewolf.” The apprentice mage sips his ale, looking around the party.
“Would Hircine care enough though?” Ralof asks, still unconvinced.
“Look—Ralof was it?—whether he does or doesn't, I doubt an Argonian could become one. At least…not something we’d call a were
wolf
.” Marcurio takes another sip then scowls.
“Now, no offense, but could you leave me be? I’m only here because Diriks invited me. Had good times with the scaly bastard…still wonder why he decided to settle down.”
He looks over at the aforementioned Argonian. He’s speaking with one of the Jarls he’d befriended—Balgruuf he thinks?—who was able to be convinced to join the Stormcloaks. Next to him was his husband Kharjo, who the mercenary only briefly spoke to before.
“Well Marcurio,” Ralof begins, setting his own bottle of mead on the table “He
did
kill Alduin the World Eater, an entire order of Vampires planning to blot out the
Sun
, and defeat another Dragonborn.”
“I know that you dumbass, he tells those stories all the time. Still doesn’t make his settling make sense. He could gone to help Cyrodill, Elsweyr, or Hammerfell. Why just quit? Now all he does is have parties at this manor…it makes me sad I won’t accompany him. Even one last time.” His eyes shift to Kharjo, his gaze a bit scornful.
“Jealous?” “Shut it you Talos-damned milk drinker.” Ralof laughs as Marcurio sinks in his seat.
Every fucking month. Always right before the full moon. Diriks is lucky Marcurio liked him.
He is an expert mage, not a partygoer.
XXXXX
“Another party over with…” the Argonian sighs. He wasn’t sure why he kept hosting them, but he couldn’t stop feeling wistful for the friends he’d made during his travels.
He felt something soft and fluffy wrap around him, “Tired, love?” Kharjo inquired, nuzzling against his husband's head from behind.
“Yes. Very. Unfortunately I can’t join you tonight. Not that you didn’t already know that, considering how you made the most of the night.” He turns to face the feline, “The armory is not meant for that kind of sword polishing.”
Kharjo pouts and licks his lips as they start to head to the cellar, “Yes, yes, I know. But a night without you by my side is a painful one indeed, Diriks.”
Diriks hisses happily at those words, but shakes his head.
“You get twenty-nine days every month with me. You can deal with one without me.” They climb down the ladder, and Diriks waltzes over to the large stone pillar in the main cellar room.
“I can. Does not mean I
wish
to.” Kharjo rebuttals, rummaging around in the crates for silver chains. It was a bit of struggle with how dim the light was at that moment, though he finally fished out what was most likely silver.
He walks over to the Argonian who had stripped naked in preparation, stretching as he waited. Kharjo purred, “Teasing me? Really my love?” The Khajiit spoke with mock offense.
“To get back at how you nearly had Lydia catch us having fun. Seriously, what were you thinking?!” He exclaimed as the chains were wrapped around him, until the pair were certain he was secure. For extra measure rope was added as well, though it wouldn’t really do much…
“Well, then was then, now was now. And right now I should be getting to bed, and
you
should be readying yourself for quite the aggravating night.” Truthfully, Diriks could already feel it, but it wasn’t too bad. Yet.
“Yes, you are right. Goodnight my love, I hope my noises aren’t too much.”
“Don’t worry, your snoring is louder.” Kharjo gives the blushing lizard a kiss before heading up the cellar ladder.
“…I don’t snore that loud.” Diriks mutters.
He shifts uncomfortably, the cool air of the cellar irritating his scales, yet he simply sighs. It’s a normal occurrence so Diriks had gotten used to it, no matter how upsetting it was. Sometimes he wished he’d never taken Aela up on her offer to become a Companion, even considering the memories or trophies he’d earned.
Contracting lycanthropy was not worth it.
Admittedly it wasn’t too much of a problem then, as the power helped greatly in taking care of the problems of Skyrim, and his own, personal grudges. But now? When he simply wished to settle down? It was nothing but a pain. Of course he just
had
to give the ring to Sinding so he may live his peaceful life. Not that he would take it back if he could, Sinding deserved it.
He eyes widen as he feels his body tense up uncontrollably.
“Why’d you have to make this hurt so much Hircine! You fucking cock suc-URGH!” Almost as if Hircine himself cut the Dragonborn off, his jaw popped out of place as his bones shifted and muscles grew and stretched. His tail creaked and crackled as it lengthened, the large muscle bound appendage wrapping around the pillar.
His arms and legs did much of the same, muscles and bones growing exponentially. His legs though, seemed to
snap
at his shins, giving them a far more wild look. His back grew and he could feel spines start to push out of his skin, his eyes tearing up.
Finally his neck popped forward, lengthening much like the rest of him, as skull and jaw started to morph to something more befitting of a dragon. His eyes blinked and in that moment, the Diriks most knew was gone.
The far more bestial Diriks thrashed in his chains, expecting the same result as always. Futility.
Yet, the beast could feel them, tensing, creaking. He paused looking down at the metallic restrictions and hissed what was almost a laugh.
These were not silver. These were simply polished steel.
Flexing his large muscles and clamping his jaw onto them, he snapped the chains off for the first time in forever. The rope was a mere moment to rip apart. His far more bestial serpentine eyes towards the cellar hatch. Practically cutting through the air with how fast the reptilian lycanthrope zoomed over to the ladder. He just as quickly climbed and slammed against the cellar hatch.
He hissed as he realized he was locked in. He could feel a part of him cry out in anguish—something related to what the hatch was made of?—but the most bestial part of him shoved it down. After which Diriks starts to slam again and again.
XXXXX
Kharjo was getting ready for bed, his silk nightwear his husband had handmade for him. Quite the comfortable set of attire, so much so he didn’t even bother with undergarments. He sat down on his bed, a truly gargantuan thing that was a gift from Jarl Balgruff as a housewarming present.
Personally it was a bit
too
extravagant for his tastes but it’s not as if he complained. It
was
a comfortable bed.
The feline lays on his stomach, arching his back while standing his legs up to stretch before sleep, yawning. He moves to blow his candle out, when
THUD
A loud sound from downstairs. It startled him, he admits, but it was likely just his Diriks’ tail slamming against the floor. He’d guessed it gets quite large after his transformation, so he shrugs and tries to blow out the candle again.
THUD THUD THUD
Kharjo freezes and slowly gets up from his bed, getting on the floor on his hands and knees, placing his ear to the floor.
THUD THUD
clink clink
At first Kharjo is puzzled by that noise. His hearing was amazing, but not good enough to hear through four floors of wood and stone. So he shouldn’t able to hear the chains-
That clinking wasn’t the chains. It was the cellar lock.
“I grabbed the wrong chains?!” He rasped to himself.
Immediately he got up and grabbed the candle by his bedside, rushing to Diriks wardrobe and flinging the doors open in a panic.
“Where is it-!
Where is it-!”
The former mercenary was looking for the one thing that Diriks had to stop him if he ever broke free.
“
There
you are, you sneaky little blade.” He picked up a sheathed blade that Kharjo never wished to wield.
CRASH
He hears the sound of wood shatter as the ebony lock fails to stop Diriks’ escape. The cat person instantly unsheathes the blade—something he hadn’t done in a while—and prepares himself. Diriks said it would ward him away, scare the beast within him enough to back off and not try anything.
Looking down at the weapon, Kharjo feels a sense of warmth swell within him at the sight. Beautifully crafted, blade straight and true with a small spiral square guard. The pommel was a small Argonian looking lizard and cat head holding a ring.
It was a wedding gift that everyone else assumed was simply silver because it looked nice. If only they knew…
He could hear Diriks moving around downstairs, searching for something to satiate his bloodlust. A long and loud hiss echoed throughout the manor, followed by a rapid thuds that felt as if they shook the whole house.
Kharjo swallowed thickly, realizing his scent was caught by his transformed love downstairs. Gently, he set the candle down on his dresser, gripping the sword with both hands in preparation for his husband's entry.
Right on time something
slammed
into the bedroom door, growling as it kept clawing and banging on it.
Kharjo for a mere moment thought that maybe the door would hold.
A mere moment later the lock gave way and it swung open, a scaly mass dropping to the floor. It’s eyes rose up to catch Kharjo’s, and the feline could see that what was looking at him was
not
his husband.
“D-Diriks, my o-other half, do not come closer!” Diriks tilted his head at the warning, seemingly untensing.
Before Kharjo could calm himself, thinking maybe Diriks wasn’t aggressive towards him, the weregonian lunged at him. Panicking, Kharjo side stepped him and swung the silver blade.
Diriks roars in pain, head snapping to stare at Kharjo, eyes clearly fearful once they land upon the blade he wields. He moves to lick his wound, a shallow but non-regenerating wound.
“It…works. Now, please stay away, I
don’t
wish to harm you anymore…” Diriks relaxes, simply licking the blood flow away. Kharjo once again believes he won Diriks passivity, but in a flash the Argonian bursts from his relaxed position towards the Feline. He raises the sword to take another swing, not wanting to stab his lover—but that mistake costs him.
The lycanthrope grabs the blade, which creaks in protest before it snaps at the hilt. Kharjo’s heart drops and his ears flatten as he looks up in fear at the yellow eyes hungrily staring down at him. He stumbles away, accidentally falling on their bed—quite the ironic place to perish—as Diriks pins his wrists to the bed. Kharjo squirms, kicks,
cries
in desperation. The reptilian’s maw opens wide and Kharjo shuts his eyes, preparing for the inevitable.
His neck is suddenly covered in hot breath as sharp teeth barely scrape his throat. Slowly he creaks open an eye, and hurriedly opens the other. Diriks has backed off and is now sniffing the feline. Suddenly his wrists are let go of and the lycanthrope pushes Kharjo all the way onto the bed, nuzzling against his husband's face. Kharjo’s face warms as he catches a glimpse of Diriks’ eyes. They aren’t not as hungry, primal nor predatory.
Now they were the soft, loving eyes of his husband.
“Ah, there you are my dear…” his hands gently raise to caress his husband’s head, right behind his horns. In any other context it would be quite the odd statement. Diriks hissed happily at the affection, rubbing his body up against Kharjo.
But, as the reptile realized, he was not rubbing against more of the soft fur of his mate. No, instead he was rubbing against some annoying…
clothing,
he recalls in his less than normal state of mind.
If was soft, yes, but not as soft as his
mate.
Suddenly shifting his rubbing to grinding, Diriks grunted and growled, clawing at his mates attire impatiently but not with quite enough force to outright rip it apart.
Kharjo groaned at the pressure against his crotch but managed to reach down to try and get his clothes off before Diriks became
too
impatient.
He managed to get his top off, though it seems he was unfortunately too slow with his pants for his husband’s liking. He feels the claws sink further into the silk then
yank
.
With a fast but loud tear the whole thing tore in two, the Lycanthrope tossing the remnants of his gift away as he continued to grind on his now fully nude mate.
Kharjo started to pant, the friction on his sheath becoming too much to resist against. He could feel his cock emerging, feeding from the arousal he had of the odd situation. Kharjo closed his eyes trying to
not
find this whole thing arousing—to minimal success—when he felt something- something
S
sliding against his stomach as Diriks grinded on him. They were hot, and heavy, and slick with
something
and-
Kharjo’s eyes snapped open and looked down, his suspicions correct.
Laying on his stomach were two of the largest cocks he’d ever seen in his life. Sure they looked like Diriks, but the sheer length and girth was…
“By the Nine…”
each had to be at the
least
a fucking
foot!
He could feel ridges underneath both, rubbing against his fur as they laid side by side.
“D-Diriks love…you’re far too b-big in this for-“ suddenly the bestial Argonian lunged down shoving his tongue into his mates mouth, not even humoring the idea of a
no
. Kharjo moaned at the long and hot appendage being forced into his mouth, gagging as it slipped into his throat but glad it was miraculously not suffocating him.
Thrusting his tongue in and out of his cat, Diriks lifted the feline's plump and soft rear as he pulled back, pressing the tip of one of his dicks against the feline’s unprepared tail hole. He withdraws his tongue letting Kharjo pant and squirm, his eyes half lidded until he feels the pressure at his back side. His eyes snap wide up and his arms go to push against Diriks hips, scared. They had reached all the way up past his fucking
navel!
“D-Diriks! Please you can’t just
force
yourself in me! You’re far too…l-large and you haven’t even prepare-“
Kharjo goes silent, eyes wide and mouth opened in a silent scream as his belly bulges
visibly
. When Diriks shifts, the bulge does too.
‘It’s- how did it- why did it slip in so easily? How much is there already? Why doesn’t it
hurt
?’
He squirmed and whimpered as Diriks hissed, happy with the velvety walls surrounding his member.
Part
of it at least. With a rough shove he pushed even more into the feline who gritted their teeth, pain appearing suddenly. Diriks didn’t seem to notice though, immediately rocking his hips. It was then that Kharjo felt the ridges pulling and pushing at his rim, not even wanting to think about the
tantalizingly amazing
feeling of those already rubbing against his inner walls.
Diriks growled, affectionately nuzzling Kharjo’s neck as he pushed deeper into him, ridges lewdly popping in and out causing the smaller male to cry. Tears fell from his blue eyes, matting his fur which caused Diriks to halt…right after popping another, larger ridge in.
Diriks was confused. This felt good, wondrous,
right
. But his mate was crying? Was he
not
enjoying this? That wasn’t good, that wasn’t
right.
His mate should enjoy this too. Was he doing this wrong? Perhaps he should’ve started slowe-
A sudden splash of warmth hits his stomach, and Diriks looks down with curiosity.
It was cum. His
mates
cum.
His hungry eyes look up to see Kharjo gritting his teeth, yet the still weakly throbbing member betrays his supposed pain. Kharjo’s jaw loosens after a moment just as Diriks tests the waters and thrusts. Instead of clamping his teeth like before he lets the pleasure overtake him. His jaw falls open and he mewls in pleasure, his cock still hard as dwarven steel.
‘It’s s-so much! I-I can’t even
begin
to describe it…all I know is how
good it feels…
’
Kharjo capitalized on his thoughts, bearing down on the thrusting cock, another ridge squelching into his loose hole. The feline moans again and Diriks stops for a moment, a hint of happiness noticeable in his next growl.
His mate
did
enjoy this.
The lycanthrope’s eyes narrow, his large hands gripping Kharjo’s shapely waist.
Good.
Diriks starts thrusts faster and faster into Kharjo, the latter moaning and whimpering nonstop the pleasure building until his dick coated his and Diriks’ bodies yet again. He kept crying, but not from pain—no that had faded a
long
time ago. Now he is crying from the overload of stimulation he was experiencing. Before, the ridges popped in and out of his ass. But now? The whole cock, ridges and all were
gliding
into him. He let out a scream as Diriks angled his next thrust—which also happened to shove his second to last ridge in—upwards, practically
crushing
Kharjo’s prostate from his strength and girth. The bulge from half almost every inch of that foot long dick in him was obscene.
“F-Fuc- Diriks! P-Please I can’t take anymohhHHHH NOT AGAIN!” His cock pulsed hard this time, unloading his largest load yet some of it coating Diriks face. Clearly enjoying his mates pleasure and constriction—those he could manage anyway—he used his large tongue to lick up the milky substance, enjoying the taste.
Kharjo sobbed as his husband kept up his relentless pounding, reaching his hands up to wrap around his neck, looking for something,
anything
to help him calm himself.
Unfortunately, all that happened was Diriks—with some struggle, he might add—forced his last, and largest ridge into the poor cat's tailhole.
Before he could even moan, or whimper or
scream
he was forced to unload
again.
He was sure he was almost out of semen to cum at this point, but Diriks seemed to disagree, fighting against Kharjo’s hole to rip his ridge out. Obviously, the half a ton of muscle and lust won, pulling it free, finally making the bulge that had felt to be rearranging Kharjo’s guts receding…
Just to shove it right back in
.
This time, Kharjo screamed. He couldn’t take it anymore, he couldn’t! The overstimulation was driving him mad. His anal muscles felt like they were
melting
. Any amount of tightness fucked away. Perhaps that’s why Diriks finally pulled out.
Kharjo panted shakily, his gaping hole being filled by the chill air of the house. A welcome change from the practical inferno of pleasure he’d just undergone.
Then, it was plugged by not one, but
both
tips of Diriks’ cocks.
This time Kharjo screamed in pure terror. He’d only had one of those fucking
spears
in him and he’d nearly gone
mad!
He wouldn’t even think of letting those
things
in him, not even-
He looks up and sees Diriks whimpering, coming close to nuzzle Kharjo’s cheek in concern.
That’s right, this isn’t a monster, this is his
husband.
His one and only. His other half. He wouldn’t…he would
never
hurt him.
“Husband…” Diriks moved to stare at Kharjo.
“I-I…I will allow you to put both in. Just…just promise me you’ll start slow.” He gets no answer and the feline sighs, “I don’t know what I expected, you can’t understand me-“ Diriks moves to press his closed maw to Kharjo’s lips. A
kiss
.
It was likely as good a promise as he was gonna get.
Slowly he felt the tips start to push into him, and he himself growled. They were thick. Much girthier than the halfway point of just one shaft.
“S-Slowly! Remember…slowly…” he hurriedly commanded Diriks, who nuzzled into his mate's neck as he obeyed. Slowly, but surely pressing into him.
Unfortunately for his sanity, he had the wonderful experience of feeling each ridge
slowly
pop in due to the increased girth. What was once manageable was insanity to overcome, his cock throbbing harder and harder the ridges got larger, thicker, and far stretchier.
His anal ring was burning, yet all he could do was moan like a bitch in heat. He placed a hand on his stomach, nearly cumming when he could
feel
his tummy being forced outwards from the monumental lengths inside of him. His hole felt like it itself was stretching a
foot
wide, the gigantic spears forced inside him were nearly all the way in, and the ridges felt so, so,
so overwhelming…
and he
loved it
.
“Fuck…fuck, fuck! Diriks! Fuck me faster, harder, I don't
care anymore
!” He demanded, his own lust overtaking his previously apprehensive thoughts. Diriks huffed then hissed happily before thrusting
hard
.
In a split second the entirety of the double foot long shafts were shoved in his guts. Kharjo spasms before looking down at his stomach and seeing the entirety of it bulging outwards. He came instantly at the sight, the sudden tightness spurring on Diriks who tightly held his mate before
pounding
into him as hard and fast as possible.
The only thing in both their minds, whether primal or intelligent they both only thought one thing:
‘More, more,
more
!’
Diriks still hadn’t came, a both impressive display of endurance but also a terrifying realization that when he did, it would be quite an immense load.
Though Kharjo had bigger worries. The overwhelming overstimulation was getting him. He was in a constant state of sensitivity and couldn’t stop his orgasms from rocking his mind, even after he finally started to cum dry. He could feel every vein, every texture, every
millimeter
of his loves cocks. He was
that sensitive.
But that sensitivity, that unstoppable feeling of pleasure…it was becoming too much.
Far
too much for his body, or his
mind
to handle.
“D-Diri- ohhhh…!” He’s rocked with another orgasm “DIRIKS! S-Staph, its t’ mush…” he could barely speak, the fucking seemingly jumbling his mind and causing him to slur.
“Pleaze…staph…!” He could feel his mind giving way, Diriks roaring as he fucked him
harder
somehow. Kharjo cried, tears streaming down his cheeks as he felt his cock try to pump cum that wasn’t there. It was…it was too much…too much…too much…!
Diriks slaked slit deep and his ridges harden, locking him in place. At first Kharjo sighs, thinking he’d avoided something terrible…but he forgot why Diriks stopped. It was to stop fucking, it was to
cum
.
Suddenly the feline feels a warmth pumping into him, the giant members lodged inside his tailhole pulsing each time. His entire torso felt warm, and he squirmed the feeling both insanely uncomfortable and
ungodly amazing.
“Ah…! Ah…! AH…!” He groaned, he could see his stomach swell and balloon outwards from the sheer volume of the cum being pumped into him. After what felt like an hour, but was only about a minute or two, Diriks was done. And started to pull his cocks out, cum immediately pouring from Kharjo’s ass.
“T-Thank the Nine…” then, Diriks stopped, and Kharjo felt…confused. His husband had just fully unloaded, right? He should be satiated…right?
He was answered when Diriks thrusted all the way back, the bucket of cum in him helping to make the penetration smoother—and even
more
mindbreaking than before.
“N-Nuooo! Noooo ‘ore…! Puh…puhlease, I can’ take no ‘ore…” Despite his begging for it to stop, Diriks was
not
done. Not by a long shot. He had plenty of loads left in him, and since his mate kept making such cute mewls and moans, and his member still slapped rock hard against his scales, he
knew
it was good with him.
And so, slowly, but surely, Diriks fucked any and all thought out of his little feline. His begging all but disappeared and replaced with the occasional sobbing from another orgasm, or, after long enough, Kharjo was begging
for
more, even if it was barely perceptible with how hard he was slurring his speach. Diriks had broken him, and Kharjo both loved and hated every second of it.
They had the
whole night
after all. One round was
never
going to be enough.
XXXXX
Diriks awoke with a groan, shifting around. He was
never
this exhausted after a full moon, he was always locked up tight enough-
His eyes snapped open. He
wasn’t
in the cellar. He was in his and Kharjo’s bedroom. So many thoughts raced through his mind, like how did he escape? Why didn’t the silver work? What the
fuck
did he do to his love?!
A quiet purring to his side alerted him of the answer. He sat up and turned, happy to see his husband alive and well…though, well wasn’t
quite
the word.
Kharjo was
drenched
in sweat and dried cum, his ass still leaking a bit seemingly from his almost
pregnant
looking belly. At first Diriks is confused until he realizes he must’ve
fucked him
in his lycanthrope from.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck! Talos please help me…Kharjo?! Are you alright my other half?!” The Argonian worriedly asked, scared he might’ve hurt or fucked him up in a less fun way.
Kharjo awoke gently, a drunken looking smile plastered on his face. “D-Diriks…~! Your normal again…” his speech was more tired than slurred, though there was still some of it remaining. Diriks gave a sigh of relief as he realized he didn’t accidentally
permanently
fuck his kitty stupid. He heard of some other lycanthropes doing it to their “mates” by accident, and, well…he would hate to have done that to Kharjo.
“I am happy you’re alright, my love.” He reaches a scaly hand out to scratch behind Kharjo’s ear, earning purr.
“Cuddle with me Diriks…I’m still tired and wish to sleep…you did a number on me. Fuck my ass still feels loose…” Diriks dryly laughs getting up to grab a new, non-cum covered blanket from the dresser. He pulls the other one off before laying next to his feline husband, the new blanket covering the two of them.
“I’m sorry for what I did last night, I wasn’t in control…”
Kharjo softly hums. “It’s fine, you’re forgiven…”
Diriks shuts his eyes to fall asleep with his beloved, his husband nuzzling his back into that scaly chest.
Just as he was about to fall asleep, Kharjo utters a single sentence that bodes…debatably well, for the rest if their life.
“
Fuck me like that a
lot
more.
”