Sweetroll

This is a multi-chapter series based on The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, with a big focus on BDSM/kink. Any and all feedback is incredibly appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

***

Nadine sat in Dead Man's Drink, mouth full of sweetroll when the courier arrived. Hurriedly, she licked the spiced crumbs and glaze from her fingers, blushing slightly when she saw the man's eyes widen at her hedonistic display.

"From Adrianne Avenicci of Whiterun," he said as he shakily thrust the piece of parchment into her now cleaned hand, struggling to look her in the eye. "Have a pleasant day, miss."

Opening the parchment, Nadine read Adrianne's cursive, elegant and slanting:

Nadine,

Arrive at the Sanctum a half-hour early this Fredas. We're expecting company.

Yours,

Adrianne

Swiping away the residual flakes of pastry that dotted her dress, she set off to Whiterun, eager to find out more about their mystery guest. She arrived outside Warmaiden's as the afternoon sun drifted mellow on the horizon, Adrianne battering at a Nordic steel plate pauldron on her worktable. She looked up as Nadine approached, smirking.

"Ah, I'm assuming the courier arrived, then."

"He did, but it's not the only reason I'm here," Nadine responded, on the defensive. "My dagger happens to need a sharpen."

"What, does Lod's grindstone not work all of a sudden?" Adrianne grinned, merciless in her onslaught.

"I needed arrows from Elrindir too... for hunting," Nadine mumbled.

"Oh, of course." Adrianne glanced round at the fully stocked quiver slung across Nadine's back. "Looks like you're running low."

Nadine sighed. "Fine. I'm here because of the damned letter. Who's the mystery guest?"

A cruel, satisfied smile curved Adrianne's lips. "Can't say."

"Can't or won't?"

"Does it matter? Wait until Fredas."

It was currently Tirdas. Nadine feared she would go insane with the suspense.

"Please at least tell me something about them."

Adrianne returned to her smithing, happily humming under her breath as she pretended not to hear Nadine's grumbling.

Good. She wouldn't mind her taking a look around the shop, then.

She flung open the doors of Warmaiden's, startling Ulfberth as she stormed in.

"Hey there, girl. What brings you to Warmaiden's today?"

"Got Adrianne's note. Can you tell me anything about who is going to be in attendance on Fredas?"

"Sorry, girl. No can do."

Nadine leaned over the counter, making sure her cleavage was visible as she traced Ulfberth's arm lightly with her finger. "Are you sure?"

His steely eyes met hers, as if to say:

are you?

She wasn't. She considered pursuing, then relented, withdrawing her hand like a thief caught pickpocketing. Ulfberth emitted a low, rumbling chuckle at her defeat, bidding her a good day as she skulked out of the shop.

***

The sun was still barely in the sky by the time Nadine arrived outside the familiar doors of the meadery, key in hand. She entered, seeing Adrianne making preparations.

"Didn't kill you to wait until tonight, then?" Adrianne called over, smirking.

"You said you weren't one for cloak and dagger," Nadine shot back, barely missing a beat as she sat down her satchel. "So spill. Who's the mystery guest?"

"All in good time, pet," Adrianne smiled, clearly enjoying the anticipation she was building. "You have to get ready first, then I'll tell you all about it. Obviously you'll need to wear something appropriate." She handed Nadine a black dress, the cotton fabric sheer enough for her to see her fingers through. "Here's your attire for tonight. Ingun should be waiting for you in the bathhouse - if you ask her nicely, she might paint your face and plait your hair, too."

Nadine half-chuckled, half-shuddered at the suggestion. Ingun's mixture of cruelty and haughtiness put her in mind of her older sister Rosaline - remembering how she used to tug at her hair as she yanked it into neat, intricate plaits, ignoring Nadine's yelps of indignance as she twisted the raven locks over one another, looping flowers and berry sprigs into the spaces between. Whenever she complained, feeling as if the hairs were being wrenched from her scalp, Rosaline would just sigh at her as if dreadfully inconvenienced by the whole thing and remind her that

beauty is pain, dear sister

.

With urgency, Nadine performed the now-familiar ritual of bathing and grooming, Ingun helping ensure that every inch of her was shaven bare. She also, as Adrianne had jested, coiffed and teased her hair into a pretty bun and daubed her lips and cheeks with something deep red and perfumed. When they were finished, Ingun held up the looking glass, and what looked back was someone Nadine barely recognised - large, soot-lined hazel eyes, burning with equal parts eager curiosity and sinful deviance. Her cheeks were flushed with both her own excitement and the product Ingun had adorned her with; her lips, full and stained the very colour of her deep desire. An elaborate braid adorned her head, a few dark, delicate tendrils falling to her pale neck.

The thin black fabric of her dress clung obscenely to her breasts, the outline of her stiff nipples plainly visible. The only thing that kept them from spilling out was gravity; one imperceptible move of Nadine's body and they were sure to escape. The garment had clearly been designed to ensure that there was just enough fabric to cover her modesty, and no more. Nadine recognised this would be a problem, as she was forbidden to wear any smallclothes, and any small bend or reach would cause this to be displayed rather brazenly to company. It would absolutely be less embarrassing to just be naked.

In short, she looked like a whore. She found this a less humiliating realisation than she thought.

Adrianne met her with an approving gaze when she returned, her mouth curving into a wicked smile. "Ready for dinner service, I see - well, almost. Go see Ulfberth for your collar. I'm sure he'll want to see you."

She approached Ulfberth with some trepidation. It had been a while since they'd last played with one another, but his imposing presence was no less prominent in her mind, especially after their last encounter in Warmaiden's.

"Sir? I've been sent to receive my collar for the evening."

He turned around, raising an eyebrow as he took her in. She was sure she heard him draw a sharp intake of breath as a faint smile traced behind his beard. Ulfberth wrapped the cool, soft leather around her neck, the feeling both startling and familiar in equal measure. As he reached round to clasp the buckles in place, he brushed away the stray tendrils of hair and whispered in her ear:

"By the Nine, you're a delicious little slut."

Nadine's skin blazed white-hot as Ulfberth's beard grazed against her ear, his gravelly voice sending shivers down her spine. She was already dreading the no smallclothes protocol; absolutely nothing could stop her desire from tracing its way hot and slick down her thighs. Flushed and flustered, she returned to Adrianne.

"Ready to serve, Miss."

"So you are," Adrianne said, smirking. "What did Ulfberth say when he saw you?"

"He... he said I was a delicious little slut, Miss."

"Well, he wasn't wrong," Adrianne remarked matter-of-factly, a wry smile creeping across her face. "Now, I suppose I should tell you a bit about our guest and the nature of this evening. It's an initiation, so you won't be the new blood anymore."

Nadine breathed a faint sigh of relief. Somehow a new submissive was less daunting than a new Master or Mistress entering the fold.

Adrianne continued. "What else to tell...they have a penchant for thievery, which is how Brynjolf and Vex discovered them. Well, that's how they say they discovered them. Asked them to run a job for the Thieves Guild, stealing a warhammer from a pair of blacksmiths camping out in Darkwater Crossing, and ended up encroaching on quite a sight at the hot springs...any of this sound familiar to you?"

Nadine nodded. With the exception of a few details, it was almost the story of her own entry.

As the rest of the members bustled in through the doors, Nadine busied herself setting the table and serving drinks along with Ingun and Ysolda. As the two passed each other, she saw Ysolda give her an approving look, and could swear she saw bruise-like marks lining her neck.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome our new potential initiate." Brynjolf's voice rang out across the sanctum hall. To his far left stood Vex, and in the middle of the two, a Bosmer male, his copper hair pulled tight into a high ponytail and a blush creeping across his face.

"Everyone, this is Gwilin from Ivarstead."

***

Dinner felt like an eternity, Nadine working harder than usual to serve the table. As she suspected, it was fiendishly difficult to do anything without exposing herself, and the rest of the dinner guests made sure she knew it. Had Ingun and Ysolda been quite so bare when she was initiated, she wondered? She'd been far too busy being nervous about the evening's activities to notice.

This evening, she was tense, bordering on impatient. She hadn't even considered that the new recruit might be male. Not that she was disappointed. Quite the opposite, in fact. Gwilin seemed kind, sweet, and genuinely eager to please - all qualities that endeared him to her, especially when combined with the tales of his own naughty deeds. Nadine also had a fondness for elves - Bosmer especially. She was particularly curious to find out if the rumours about their ears were true.

Nadine found herself swept away by her own thoughts once again as she cleared the table. Would Gwilin's initiation be the same as hers? How would his sweet nature cause him to fare? As if in response, Adrianne's voice rang out, clear and melodic.

"Well pet, are you ready to begin?"

Gwilin nodded. "Yes, Miss."

"Excellent. We need to go get ready, but make yourself at home. Grab a drink, and get comfortable in the arena."

It was strange being on the other side of the initiation ceremony. Nadine recognised the words, but realised she was to go with the others to prepare for what was to come. The Sanctum members made their way through to the bathhouse, squeezing through the narrow corridors, changing into (or out of) their finery as they discussed their intentions.

The crowd returned to the Sanctum hall, descending the stairs to the arena. Gwilin sat perched on the armchair, much as Nadine had on her initiation evening, sipping his Honningbrew nervously.

"All acquainted with the dungeon, pet?" Adrianne asked with a sweetly wicked smile on her face.

"Y-yes, Miss." Gwilin's blush ran from his cheeks up to the tips of his pointed ears. Gods, he was adorable.

"Good. Still happy to go ahead with your initiation?" Adrianne's voice was wonderfully reassuring, her singsong tone honeyed and soothing.

Gwilin met her reassurance in kind, smiling. "Yes Miss."

"And you remember your safewords, pet?"

"Yes, Miss - ebony for stop, iron to slow down or lower intensity."

"Excellent. Because your initiation is about to begin." Adrianne's reassuring demeanour melted away as she gestured for Ingun and Ysolda to join her. "Girls, show us the new meat."

Nadine watched as the pair undressed Gwilin even more unceremoniously than they had undressed her, tugging his tunic over his head and yanking his boots from his feet, followed by his breeches and loincloth. He had an unusually athletic build for a Bosmer - not overly muscular like Ulfberth or even Brynjolf, but he had toned, broad shoulders and a defined chest, clearly borne from his duties working in Ivarstead, as well as his apparent aptitude for marksmanship. He also had a rather attractive cock - modest in size, but more than capable of getting the job done, if Brynjolf and Vex's testimonies were anything to go by.

"Very nice indeed, pet. It's so good to see your body presented for us."

Gwilin's face flushed furiously as his cock sprung upwards, his arousal even more obvious than Nadine's had been. A small bead of precum glistened on the tip, enticing and inviting; further evidence of his intense desire.

Adrianne eyed him with a look of amused approval before speaking. "Ingun, bind his wrists behind him."

She complied, giving his arse a firm squeeze as she departed. Gwilin seemed to enjoy the attention; Adrianne less so.

"I said bind his wrists, not feel him up."

"Sorry, Miss," Ingun smirked, not a trace of contriteness present.

"Oh, you will be," Adrianne said. "Join the others." Turning back to Gwilin, her demeanour softened slightly as she spoke. "Kneel."

Nervously, he obeyed, taking one knee and then another, careful to keep his balance with the absence of his hands to rest on. He looked up at Adrianne, taking in every inch of her gorgeously sculpted form, eyes wide and face set in a combination of awe and fear.

"So, Gwilin. Ever make it to High Hrothgar?"

A faint look of confusion crossed his face. "No, Miss."

"Well, consider this first trial your very own Throat of the World. I have it on very good authority that this sweet little mouth of yours does more than just speak, is that correct?"

"Yes, Miss." The words were scarcely more than a whisper.

"Excellent. Because our plan is to put that mouth to good use, and see just how well you can do. As you've probably noticed, there are rather a lot of men here - some you know, some you don't - and all who are eager to experience your particular talents first hand."

Gwilin's eyes widened - a rabbit caught in a trap, looking up at the hunter; save for the rock-hard appendage throbbing between his legs. Nadine recognised, even through the trepidation, that same eagerness and hunger she felt time after time. She had never considered just how attractive it looked from the other side, however. Witnessing this sweet, unassuming Bosmer being trussed up and humiliated was wholly arousing in ways Nadine hadn't expected. She could already feel the desire burn in her core, wetness pooling to join it but never serving to extinguish the flame.

"Let's start out gentle, shall we? Drevis, you can be the first to break in our new potential pet."

"With pleasure, dear Adrianne."

Drevis took his time disrobing, staring down at Gwilin with a sinister smile on his angular face. Nadine knew from experience just how terrifying that particular look was; even witnessing it by proxy made a shiver roll down her spine. It seemed to be having a similar effect on Gwilin, who was unable to look the Dunmer in the eye as he shifted uncomfortably on his knees.

Drevis caressed Gwilin's face deliberately with long grey fingers, tracing across the sharp structure of the Bosmer's features and making him purr. With his other hand, he pressed his cock against Gwilin's full, flushed lips, easing it into his mouth as he opened to accept it. Once in, he needed little persuading, lavishing the hard appendage with long, sloppy licks and fervent sucks as he gradually took more and more of Drevis' length into his mouth. Having his hands bound behind his back hadn't seemed to have hindered him at all, as his head bobbed steadily up and down on the Dunmer's cock, the two making noises of unbridled pleasure.

"That's enough,

brohadik

," Drevis purred, slowly pulling his cock from Gwilin's wet, whimpering mouth, stroking his cheek as he did so. "Save some stamina for the others, dear boy."

Giraud approached, loosening the laces on his leather breeches as he smiled approvingly. "Perhaps I won't have much to teach you, hmm? Let's find out."

No sooner had he pulled his cock out of his loincloth than Gwilin enveloped it in his mouth, his tongue tracing the bottom as he took it in. Giraud took more of an active role in the proceedings, wrapping his hands in the Bosmer's ponytail as he guided him further onto his cock. Every inch he received he took effortlessly and hungrily, now seemingly unbothered by the crowd of wide-eyed onlookers appreciating his craft. He was a much quicker study than Nadine had been, and his careful workings were yielding a positive response from Giraud, whose breaths were intermittently punctuated by low, lustful growls.

Giraud smiled, eyes dazed as he slowed his pace and pulled out. "I think I might have a new star pupil, Master Gwilin."

"You're too kind, Sir." Gwilin's face flushed with pride as he gazed adoringly at the man before him. Nadine recognised that look - half awe-struck, half lust-filled, completely smitten to have been praised for a job well done. It was a feeling she was acutely familiar with. Obviously, Gwilin was a man after her own heart.

That wasn't the only similarity they had, either. Nadine saw Gwilin's cock harden further when Brynjolf approached, the thief's own thick member barely being contained in his leather codpiece.

"I told them I could vouch for you, but I guess they wanted to witness first hand," Brynjolf shrugged, grinning faux-apologetically as he did away with his codpiece. "Sorry, lad. Rules are rules."

Gwilin didn't seem to mind. He greeted his cock like an old friend, having a familiarity that he had lacked with the previous men. Brynjolf met his familiarity in kind, grasping his ponytail and thrusting into the Bosmer's mouth more vigorously than Giraud had. The sounds of Gwilin's attentions reverberated across the arena - wet, sloppy, sucking noises punctuated by needy, muffled moans and low, guttural growls.

The pair parted reluctantly, Brynjolf's cock leaving Gwilin's mouth with a loud, slick pop. "Good lad," Brynjolf purred, gently patting the Bosmer on the head. Nadine could swear she heard a whine escape Gwilin's swollen lips as he nuzzled himself against Brynjolf's touch, his eyes burning with desire and unbridled need. She recognised that look, too.

Nazir's arm snaked its way around Brynjolf's waist as he loomed over Gwilin, surveying him with dark, smirking eyes. "By Sithis, where do you find all these eager cocksluts, Bryn?"

"I get around," Brynjolf responded, returning the Redguard's smirk.

"I'll say," Nazir said, laughter lacing his rich baritone voice. He took his time removing his codpiece, Gwilin shivering under his gaze. "And yet you always forget to tell them you're bringing them into an underground sex dungeon with sadistic assassins who might have a contract out on their soul. Irresponsible."

Gwilin's face paled, his eyes widening and darting over to Brynjolf for reassurance that what the man was saying wasn't true.

"Only joking, boy. I don't mix business and pleasure." Nazir smiled, his demeanour softening almost imperceptibly. "As long as you're in the Sanctum, the Dark Brotherhood has no claim to your soul."

Gwilin breathed a sigh of relief. This was a bad move.

Nazir whispered something in Brynjolf's ear, to which the thief nodded and departed. Turning back to Gwilin, his mouth curled into a cruel smile.

"That doesn't mean

I

don't have a claim to it, though."

Gwilin's trepidation returned, biting his lip nervously as a shudder ran through him. "I'll do whatever you ask, Sir."

"Oh, I know you will. You've been so very eager to please."

Brynjolf returned, holding two metal balls - one a deep silver in colour, the other void-black.

"I believe your safewords were iron and ebony?"

Gwilin nodded his head at Nazir, slowly realising the objects' purpose as Brynjolf placed them in each of his still-bound hands.

"Iron's in your left hand, ebony is in your right," Nazir explained, his voice taking on an uncharacteristically reassuring tone. Nadine had never heard Nazir this gentle before. A sharp shiver rolled down her spine, in anticipation of what was to come. "If you need to use them, raise your hand - Brynjolf will be watching, and he'll let me know. Isn't that right, Bryn?"