"I've been meaning to ask you something," Lucien said, "got a moment?"

 

Monilee nodded her assent as she lounged on one of her new home's comfortable chairs. 

 

"Look, you know I'm not very good at practical things. You know... combat."

 

Edippa chuckled, "I don't know, there's plenty of... practical things you're good at."

 

The scholar blushed for a moment before driving on. "What I mean is, I rely on you to win our battles and... I shouldn't. So I suppose I was wondering: do you think you could train me?"

 

Now it was Shayna's turn to interject. "Train you? That sounds like a perfect job for Monilee."

 

"Ah, you degenerates only think of one thing. Seriously, I'm tired of being dead weight. I want to help you fight."

 

Monilee considered that for a moment. She didn't actually feel that Lucien was a burden, and she rather enjoyed his company, but she also completely understood his feelings. She wasn't content to be at the mercy of others, why should he? So she smiled, and said, "Of course. We'll start in the morning."

 

"Fantastic!" he crowed, "can't wait to get cracking!"

 

"Now," Monilee added, "if we're going to train you right, then we need to rest first. Let's get to bed and plan on an early rise."

 

Behind her she heard Lydia, her armored feet clanking as she ascended the stairs, "That sounds like an excellent idea. Though I think I'm going to need some help from you getting out of this new armor first."

 

"Come on, Lucien," Monilee said at that, "looks like you get your first lesson early. Time to learn about armor."

 

Twenty minutes later, Lydia was undressed. Lucien took a moment to admire her helmet, "I wonder where Adrianne learned to craft like this. This style... it's something I'd expect to see from a Dunmer trader. She must have some interesting stories to tell about how she learnt her trade."

 

"Hmm," Monilee observed mischievously, "it seems you're still wearing one piece of armor, Lydia. Do you need some help with that as well?" The black phallus strapped about Lydia's hips was well-smoothed, and a touch of Monilee's hand revealed it to be of the same exotic metal as her armor. "I take it this was a gift from Adrianne?"

 

Lydia nodded slowly, "Yes, it was carefully wrapped up with the rest of the pieces. Somehow I thought you'd find it interesting. How did we put it? Sin without wickedness? Are you prepared?"

 

Monilee's grin grew, "oh yes, I like this idea very much."

 

"Good," the housecarl said, "but I think you might find this a little dry as it is now."

 

"Haha, I don't know about that..."

 

"Incorrigible. Then consider this one of your lessons, on behalf of the Jarl. A hero must know humility... so on your knees and suck, my Thane. Lucien, grab her hair - yes, right there - and make sure she doesn't stop until the whole shaft is well and spit-slick."

 

 

Monilee's scalp burned as Lucien roughly held her fast, the ebon shaft driving deep into her mouth. With her tongue she licked and swirled all sides, and with each thrust it emerged with a stronger liquid shine; likewise, each invasion of her mouth sent thicker and ropier gobs of spit and mucous running down her face. At last, Lydia signalled to Lucien to release Monilee.

 

"Now, Lucien, watch closely as I show you have to please a woman." She spun her Thane around, laying her down on the floorboards before entering her with the dildo. Monilee gasped as it filled her snugly, but Lydia did not make the rookie mistake of thrusting too fast. Instead, she moved with a strong and implacable rhythm, never quite giving Monilee a chance to catch her breath but never at risk of rubbing her raw either. Monilee turned her head to the side to see Edippa looking on with approval. Had she been tutoring Lydia as well? Where did that woman find the time?

 

"Look at me, my Thane. Look me in the eyes the whole time."

 

Monilee obeyed, letting her nominal servant fully control her. Distantly, she heard a gasp from Lucien. "That's right, my son," Edippa whispered, "pay close attention to Lydia. She is a good student of the Dibellan arts. Don't let me... distract you."

 

 

Monilee found herself intensely curious about what exactly Edippa was doing to provoke increasingly sharp and staccato breathing from Lucien, but she obeyed Lydia's command and held her eyes. 

 

"Yes," Lydia hissed as she bore down with greater strength on Monilee, "don't you dare look away."

 

She pushed Monilees legs back further, plunging deep and rubbing against the very mouth of Monilee's womb. Lydia too was breathing heavily, and not just from the exertion. Her eyes seemed to glaze over for just a moment before focusing back on Monilee's gaze.

 

 

At last, Monilee could take it no longer, and she felt her hips quivering and her insides clenching. She felt an almost irresistible desire to close her eyes, but instead she focused even more closely on Lydia. She gasped, and even as she heard a deep groan escape from Lucien she let out a shout of her own before all the tension went out of her muscles and she lay exhausted on the wooden floorboards. Only then did she close her eyes, taking a long pause before looking back to Lydia. 

 

"Sin without wickedness, you said? I think some might call that very wicked."

 

"Careful what you wish for, my Thane. Now, to bed. You too need to rise early if you're to train Lucien properly. Hopefully I've helped tire you out."

 

With a long exhalation, Monilee struggled with some effort to her feet. Lydia had tired her out, and her first step was more akin to a drunkard's stagger.

 

She saw Lucien then, his mouth half agape and a mucilaginous drop extending from the tip of his penis towards a small pool on the floor. Behind him, Edippa stood, one hand reaching around from behind. Her fingers gently cupped his scrotum, with no sign of her thumb.

 

"Mother, are you doing what I think you're doing?"

 

The cleric smiled innocently, "Just demonstrating one of the more obscure arts of our goddess to Lucien here while he studied Lydia's technique." She withdrew her hand from Lucien's nethers, "Now, I need to wash up before bed. I'll join you soon."

 

They did manage to rest for a time after that, but soon found themselves awake as dawn's like began to enter the home, ready for more. Perhaps unwisely, they used some of the strength they'd meant to conserve for Lucien's combat training on further lovemaking. Still, if Lydia thought this an ill use of their time, it did nothing to dampen her enthusiastic participation. 

 

 

"Are you kids done yet?" Edippa's voice carried up from the lower level of the home. "Come take some breakfast before you start training Lucien."

 

The woman's voice wasn't the only thing coming from below. The smell of warm bread... and apples? Yes, on their descent the party found that Edippa had apparently spent the morning preparing an apple pie in the home's well equipped kitchen. Monilee glanced over at Lydia.

 

"I hope you aren't planning to lecture me about gluttony now," she said.

 

The housecarl just shrugged. "Sin without wickedness, right? Eat your fill."

 

And so they all did, eagerly enjoying the sweet treat before checking their armor and decamping to the home's sheltered back yard. Before they could begin, however, a familiar voice interrupted their preparations.

 

 

Monilee looked to Cassia with a measure of triumph. "No, she doesn't."

 

The girl looked confused for a moment, then shook her head, "Oh, you jest. You shocked me for a moment."

 

Before Monilee could explain further, another voice intruded. "No, my dear Cassia," Nocturnal said, "the Dragonborn whore is not joking. She has angered me most severely with her defiance. Now you will punish her... a foretaste of what awaits her in the Evergloam."

 

Cassia's face rapidly shifted from confusion, to fear, to determination. Even as Monilee watched her emotionally process what was going on, a rubbery green whip began to materialize in Cassia's hand.

 

"Teach her," Nocturnal whispered, "teach her of pain and pleasure, as I have taught you."

 

 

Instantly, Monilee was bound in place, her body writing under the blows of the whip. This was no mere thing of braided leather, instead it burned as it struck, then grabbed and pinched as it withdrew. Monilee shrieked, wondering why her companions were not intervening. In a moment of clarity she saw them standing stock still, as if frozen in mid-step. They were helpless to stop Cassia's relentless punishment.

 

At last, it ended. Suddenly seeming dazed, Cassia wandered off, oblivious to Monilee's calls to her. 

 

"Now, Dragonborn, you will obey me," Nocturnal commanded. "Worship at the shrine of Clavicus Vile and prepare to accept your fate. Or next time, it will be your companions who I punish."

 

Monilee collapsed, and a moment later Lydia was at her side. "My Thane," she gasped, "are you alright?"

 

Monilee shook her head slowly. "I'm sorry, Lucien," she said, "your battle training will have to wait." She hate this. She felt absolutely disgusted with her failure. Oblivion take them all, Monilee had promised herself she would never be dominated again. Never. And yet, here she was. Broken under Nocturnal's whip. In her heart, she offered a silent prayer to Dibella, but the goddess was silent to her plea. And she understood. This was her fate, now was the time for her to face Nocturnal's wrath.

 

"Oh," the scholar said in a desultory tone, putting down the sword he had been taking cautious swings with, "did I do something wrong? This is all so new to me." 

 

"No, nothing like that. But I've just received a sign. We're going to Haemar's Shame, and I'm going to tell Nocturnal to her face who is the master of whom." Yes, that felt better. On some level, Monilee suspected she might be engaging in self-deception, but if that's what it took to get her through this ordeal, she'd accept it.

 

The party traveled mostly in silence to the shrine. At last, when Clavicus Vile's statue loomed above them all, they took turns wishing Monilee success and safety.

 

"Thank you, my friends," she said with total sincerity. "I promise you, I will return. And I will return stronger than before. The gods have put this burden on me, and I will, I will succeed." With a final hug to Lydia, she prostrated herself before the idol and vanished into the Evergloam.

 

 

She had expected to appear in the outer reaches of Nocturnal's fortress, to have to face the spectral guardians again. But instead, Monilee appeared before the cage where not long ago she'd been forced to spend a 'night' with Cassia. Monilee took in her surroundings carefully, but there was no sign of the daedric prince. Still, Monilee was fairly certain of where she needed to go. She had seen the ritual chamber, in passing, on her previous visit. In her gut, she knew Nocturnal awaited her there.

 

 

Out of her peripheral vision, she noted that the cages seemed more full. Evidently, Monilee was not Nocturnal's only plaything from Tamriel. She considered taking forth the Rueful Axe and striking off the locks, freeing the prisoners... but where would they go? They were likely as powerless as Monilee to leave without Nocturnal's permission. So she pressed on until she heard a voice.

 

"Are you sure you want to continue on alone? It could be dangerous."

 

"Shayna?" Monilee asked.

 

 

"But how? How are you here?"

 

"I'm a daedra too, don't you remember? And all your powers are mine. After seeing it once, it was child's play to follow you here. I may not be able to do much against Nocturnal, but if I can help you - I will."

 

Monilee hugged her doppelganger tightly. "Thank you, Shayna. Now follow me. I think I know where the old Shadow Hag is waiting.

 

Fore-armed with the knowledge of how Nocturnal's temple was laid out, the two of them crept silently towards the ritual chamber. And rightly so, it turned out, for spectral guardians patrolled within. If Nocturnal had thought they would strike down Monilee, however, the prince had miscalculated. Using the Forest Guardian's bow, one after another she struck them down, and they vanished in puffs of blue mist. 

 

Something had changed in the chamber below. As before, stone idols of Nocturnal and Clavicus vile stood silent watch, but beyond them Monilee saw a ghostly dragon skull. A shiver ran down her spine as she considered it. In her gut she knew - Nocturnal would meet her there, and her ordeal would begin. Fine, she thought, let her do her worst. I am the Dragonborn, and I am secure - both in my destiny and in my faith in Dibella. Nocturnal cannot and will not defeat me.

 

 

By now, Monilee knew what Nocturnal would expect. While Shayna stood watch from a distance, she disrobed, setting aside the armor Dibella had provided for her, before squatting on the prayer stool before the dragon skull. The sitting place was so shaped that she could only balance on it by revealing herself obscenely before the ghostly visage. She suspected, however, that this was the least of the troubles that awaited her.

 

 

A jolt of magical energy ran up Monilee's body, starting in her toes and her exposed labia and shooting up her spine until the hair on her neck stood on end. Goose bumps ran all along her arms before a moment later she was violently hoisted to her feet, her arms painfully wrenched above her by ghostly chains. Nocturnal spoke.

 

 

"Reborn?" she spat, "You've spoken of this before. What do you mean, reborn?"

 

"Oho," Nocturnal laughed, "such defiance. Do you really think you can defeat me? I have broken greater heroes than you before, over far greater prizes. And I will break you to my will. You disobeyed me and lost your virginity. Now it's time you regain it. Are you ready?"

 

Monilee did her best to stare down the Shadow Queen, recalling her experience with Lydia so recently. Boldly, she asked:

 

 

Nocturnal laughed gaily, "Why, you will die, Dragonborn. You. will. die. What did you think would happen when you defied me?"

 

 

"Is this what Cassia meant when she said you sacrificed maidens?" Even as she said it, Monilee's stomach lurched as the chains shifted and suspended her inverted before the daedra prince.

 

 

"Don't concern yourself with that," Nocturnal answered, tersely this time. "You aren't a maiden and I have something different in mind for you. Now make your choice. Will you submit to me and take the quick and painless route?"

 

"Never," Monilee hissed, "I'll never submit to anyone again."

 

A slow smile grew over Nocturnal's face. "Good. Then prepare yourself for the most powerful orgasm of your life. And the last one."

 

Nocturnal gestured to a nearby contraption of metal and gears. "This device will impale you," she explained, "but you will not die. Get in it."

 

The chains released Monilee depositing her unceremoniously on the stone floor. Drawing herself up, she tried to resist, but her feet moved of their own accord, closer and closer to the machine.

 

"Oh, you fool," Nocturnal said, "You'll never submit? I don't need your submission, Dragonborn. I need your obedience. And the obedience of men and mer has never been beyond my grasp. Never."

 

In a matter of moments, Monilee found herself kneeling within the machine. 

 

 

Behind her, she heard the movement of gears, the whisper of polished metal on polished metal. Then she felt it, cold and sharp, moving with an implacable slowness. This was not the ribbed, smooth penetration of the Word Walls. This was a spike or a spearhead. Its tapered tip entered her vagina effortlessly, and as it expanded its razer sharp edges began to slice her open. In perhaps a final defiance, she ignored the command to not breath and let out a ear-tearing shriek.

 

 

Her flesh offered no resistance. Blood flowed freely from her body, soon mixed with urine as the flanged spike sliced open her bladder with all the efficiency of a butcher and released a burning torrent into her body cavity. She felt the spike rip open her guts next, brooking no resistance as it crawled towards her heart.

 

 

Monilee vomitted blood, sure that the end was near, but Nocturnal only laughed. "Did you think that was the end? With your whore heart? No, you will not die until I allow it. Now bend your head up and open your mouth." 

 

She writhed and struggled, feeling the sharp tip start to enter her throat, choking her. With a final effort of will, Monilee threw back her head to scream. If she thought her sudden movement would stop the progress of the spit, she was wrong. Denied her throat, it simply burst forth from her chest with a shower of gore.

 

 

Monilee swooned and felt her vision fade for a moment, but soon a new pain woke her - fire. She was bound fast, unable to move. The iron spike that had slowly impaled her was gone, replaced with a smaller shaft of bronze - and this time threaded down her throat and out her mouth. Almost as soon as her vision cleared, the spit started to rotate. She felt her skin dry and crackle under the heat of the coals, but she also felt an intense pressure build in her core, a loud ringing in her ears, and an intense tingling growing across her body. As she cooked, she lusted. Soon, she found herself pushing her legs open and trying to slide up and down the pole. The fiery embers simply could not extinguish her lust.

 

 

Nocturnal's words taunted Monilee, but she found herself uncaring. As her skin darkened to a golden brown and the hair burnt away from her body, all she could think of was the intense and growing pleasure that consumed her. Far from distracting her, the pain of the roasting fire magnified and intensified every sensation she could feel. Finally, as her body charred and blackened, an indescribably powerful orgasm rippled through her body.

 

 

At last, roast to a crisp, her eyeballs melted like cracked eggs, all her senses gone except for the repeated orgasms that wracked her, the fire faded and Monilee was... elsewhere. Her body hung suspended over a different, larger fire pit. Her pain was gone and her ruined body restored. And the golden halo once again rode atop her head. Where am I, she wondered.

 

 

Though deposited in the fire pit, the ashes were cool to her touch. Standing, Monilee emerged from the flames and planted her feet on smooth stone. Taking a moment to examine herself, she found that she was garbed in the armor gifted to her by Dibella so long ago. A voice entered her head, the voice of the goddess she had feared had abandoned her.

 

"Worship at Shor's idol," Dibella instructed, "it is not safe to go leave the hall."

 

 

Monilee considered that for a moment. Where was she? Was this the realm of Arkay? But if so, why an idol of Shor. Shor, the dead god... likely one and the same as The Bad Man, if she remembered her religious instruction properly. Had she gone from one dark tormentor to another?

 

The shrine loomed before her. She considered turning away and seeing what the outside held, but Monilee had faith in Dibella. If the goddess instructed her to worship here, she would.

 

 

 

Nocturnal's voice whispered to her, "You stand in the halls of Sovngarde. The ritual will soon be complete. You will not stay here long... soon you will return to Skyrim reborn."

 

 

"Dibella and I have... all the time in the world. So we will try our wager again, the matter of your virginity. But this time... I think I will try something slightly different. Your faith in the goddess of women is too strong, and the contest is an unfair one. So we will sever that bond." 

 

Blackness descended on Monilee. First oily, slimy blackness, and then merely the blackness of her eyes held tightly closed. Water roared in her ears and rocks buffeted her body. And then she passed from consciousness. 

 

She awoke to familiar surroundings. She had dreamt of this cold prison cell before. She had heard the voice of Mara here, and she had been saved. But something was different, something was... wrong. Her hand brushed her face, feeling a rough and scratchy texture. She touched her chest, finding hair and muscle where soft breasts had been before. Then she reached between her legs and found something truly surprising.

 

"Monilee... Monilee..." Nocturnal whispered. "Or perhaps now we should call you Monywyr. Soon you will forget all that came before, and we will try this contest once more. Rest well, for when you wake you will return to Skyrim."

 

 

 

Then, as Monilee-Monywyr's vision faded, she-he heard a familiar voice from over her-his shoulder. "Approach, my child," it said, "and choose how your new life shall begin."