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About this blog

noncon-flavored short vignettes of depravity and exploitation

Entries in this blog

Perils

The Way of the Voice

In which the Greybeards instruct the Dragonborn on the Way of the Voice   ~   “Finally! By the Divines,” Sven exclaims, shaking off the snow on his shoulders. A faint echo of his voice replies from the dark.   I squint as my eyes start adjusting to the gloom. Inside, High Hrothgar has every appearance of an ancient Nordic ruin, but the air is not the stale air of a draugr tomb. And a hearty fire burns in a brazier near the entrance. Rubbing my arms, I
Buridan

Buridan in Perils

2
Perils

The Whirlwind

The slave sighs in relief as the straightjacket restraint, magnanimously unlocked by the first mate, clatters to the floor. A gentle golden light envelopes the slave as she clutches her hand to her chest.   The first mate snorts and nudges the cum-splattered slave on the floor with his foot. "What is that, healing magic?"   The slave, perfectly submissive, does not look up when she answers. "Yes, master."   "What were you before, some sort of healer?"
Buridan

Buridan in Perils

0
Perils

Servicing Cidhna Mine

In which our plucky heroine gets in way over her head when she uncovers a vast conspiracy in Markarth and is tossed into Cidhna Mine to rot.   Uraccen claims his toll. This slut reminds him of his daughter, somehow. He doesn't know how quite to feel about that.   Duach plows the new whore in exchange for some skooma, or so he tells her. The only thing she gets out of this is a sore cunt and a bitter lesson about leverage.   Grisvar the
Buridan

Buridan in Perils

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