I got a couple of Kaz commissions last night of two scenes from the fanfiction.
Here’s the first – Ra’Jirra at the roulette table:
The other is from when La’Dasha is reviewing the recorded scroll of Ra’Jirra and Ko’Manir’s… um… private time together.
I’ll let you figure out that reflection in her eye. I really love his take on La’Dasha, so I consider this canon now. As for that reflection, I made a slight modification of it to remove it.
What is the world coming to when I choose to modify a Kaz picture to make it less lewd?!
Well, we can’t have that. I also modified the Ra’Jirra to go the other way. I don’t think he’ll mind if I’m clearly saying it’s a modification.
“You understand the mission then?” La’Dasha said to the grate under her feet as she sat on the bench.
“I do,” came the terse reply. La’Dasha had never met the man she knew as Faelian, though she had made use of his services for years. So far he had been undeniably successful. However, her requests had typically been much simpler than this one. She sincerely wished she could have just ordered a straightforward assassination, but that wasn’t the plan. Her operative would need to have a good grasp on the complexities. But she trusted no one more than Faelian.
However, that wasn’t saying much. She wasn’t even sure what race he was, though he was clearly not a khajiit or argonian. She only knew he got the job done where others had failed her. And this was going to be an expensive operation, though expenses didn’t bother the Dominion. A good thing too. The long range weapon she had left in the drop off location was priceless.
“Where?” came the hoarse voice from below her.
“Crypt. Name of Shelley. Key is in the urn on the left of the door. And Faelian…”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to be following this one closely. It’s important.”
“Got it. When do you expect her in the city?”
“Two days from now.”
“I’ll contact you when it’s over.”
“No need. I’ll know when it’s over.”
There were no footfalls, but she sensed the man had gone anyway. It wasn’t like her to worry, but she was worried now. This was way too complex, and too many people were involved. Important people. If she failed this, she would die. It was as simple as that. Number 5 didn’t have to make the threat. She’d carried out similar orders on other high ranking members herself.
She needed a drink. She crossed the road to a bar. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light within and she sat at the bar and ordered her usual. It came to her – clear, cold and strong. She downed it with a single gulp and ordered another.
“This seat taken?” came a voice beside her. She looked to see a man. Big man.
She thought about it for a moment, then decided she needed the distraction. “There is now,” she replied noncommittally.
“You new in town? I haven’t seen you around here before.”
“Pretty new. Just came in yesterday. Business.”
“Ah,” he said, and she wondered how long he was going to take to get to the point. But it was all part of the game. She had to wait.
“Say, wanna guide? I know all the hot spots in town. This place, it’s alright, but it’s dead.”
“You like cats?” she asked, touching his thigh. She felt the muscles flex underneath her claws.
“I like everybody,” he said.
“Do you?” She looked him up and down. Slowly. “How much do you weigh, stud?”
“Oh! Like what you see? Couple hundred.”
“Mmm. And how big are you?”
“Big enough for a cat.”
“Are you? Well, this one does like to sample the local meat when in town. Want to skip the hot spots and make our own?”
This was the turning point. A lot of men she met would balk at this point. She didn’t mind. It was all part of the game. Some would be turned off by her boldness, and those were the ones that got away. “Go home to your wife,” she would tell them in her mind. “Go kiss your kids, stud. Be smart.”
“Sure, pussy. Where are you staying.”
Externally she smiled and told him her hotel and room number. Internally she sighed. The mean intelligence of the male population of Tamriel would slightly increase tonight. There was that. She was a force for evolution.
“Give me 20 minutes,” she said, standing up and downing her second drink. “The door will be open, stud.”
She saw the lecherousness in his eyes when she turned back at the door, watching her tail make motions in the air. “20 minutes.”
“I’ll be there,” he said, smiling a smile that told her all she needed to know. He would be.
**********************************************
Ra’Jirra stepped down from the wagon behind a family of fellow khajiits into the full majesty of Rihad. It stank. The odor of thousands of different people, all crammed together in such a small space and under such high heat, would yield nothing else. Along with that wafted the aroma of a thousand different street vendors, all selling their possibly-still-edible wares. It combined to give a stench that reached to the sky.
She’d been here before. She had hoped to not be again.
Her contact was named Serosh, a rather bland looking Redguard she had met once before briefly, but she had done her research on him during her trip to Rihad using the folio Em had given her before she left. Not a top agent, but reliable and committed. However, he was a family man, and that was dangerous.
He hailed them a taxi, a premium affair. The Orsimer pedalling it was pleasantly quiet and didn’t reek too badly.
“Where am I staying?”
“The Pendant. Best lodgings in town. They’ve a premier casino and bar if you’re interested. I’ve got you the penthouse suite.”
“Nice! You know my tastes,” she smiled as he offered her a cocktail. She spat out the feathers though. She preferred them plucked first.
“Indeed. But it’s not just for your vanity, Raj. They’re the only hotel that excels in privacy. We’ll talk there.”
Ra’Jirra saluted him and began gnawing on the cocktail as she watched the riffraff of Rihad go by outside. The driver was impressive in his speed and mobility. She lay her head back and enjoyed the meager breeze and occasional respite from the atmosphere of the place. At moments she might almost think…
Suddenly an explosion rocked the small cart. She spun around to look out of the small window behind her. Smoke was rising from a storefront behind them, but the Orsimer was dutifully speeding past. She saw blood and heard screaming.
“What’s that all about?”
“Local disturbance. The usual thing. Massive poor population, small rich population and practically no middle class. The place is ripe for revolution, but the government keeps a pretty firm hand.”
“So that was a revolutionary bomb?”
Serosh shrugged. “Or counterrevolutionary. Who knows? Doesn’t make much difference really, does it?”
“Not to those people bleeding on the street.”
They pulled past the gates leading to The Pendant. Armed guards were in evidence. Lots of them. She watched as the gates clanked into place firmly behind her.
“Are they locked out, or am I locked in?” she asked Sarosh as he took her hand to help her out of the taxi.
He handed the driver something gold and the driver bit it before pocketing it. “Yes,” he replied with a smile, and two large Redguards came to see to her luggage while she strolled into the hotel. The doors opened at her approach, and she wondered for a moment if there might be magic involved, until she saw the ropes which obviously led to a couple of menial laborers stationed to give them a pull at the proper time.
Inside the air temperature dropped at least 20 degrees.
“Whoa! What’s this?” she asked the her friend.
“They call it Air Ice. They have a big tub of ice on each floor with a fan that blows it into the rooms. Nice, eh?”
“I’ll say! Almost makes me think I could live here!”
“Better watch that, cat. Some of us do, you know.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
“Let’s get you to your room,” he said.
They walked into a small box surrounded by a gated door which he closed. He turned a knob to indicate her floor number, and the box began to rise smoothly. She never did see the laborers that accomplished that little miracle, but she had no doubt they were there.
Serosh handed her the key and she opened the door. The room was huge and immaculate. She even let out a squeal when she saw the bath. It was enormous and open, with a commanding view through thick glass doors that led to a balcony beyond.
“Serosh, you’re not into cats are you?”
“Sorry Raj, no. Not me. Happily married man.”
“Good! You stay there, I’m taking a damned bath!”
“You do that. Sweaty fur isn’t exactly the most delightful perfume, I’m afraid.”
“Don’t I know it!”
She opened a spigot and water began to flow. She had no idea how that worked, but she was sure somebody’s muscles were involved. The water temperature was perfect.
“I’ve left a dossier on the table,” she heard from the next room as she got undressed. “Burn it when you’re done.”
Ra’Jirra lowered herself slowly into the warm water and let the tub fill slowly over her as bit-by-bit parts of her were submerged. She nearly cried with pleasure. “Aaaaaahh!”
“Long trip?” came the voice from the other room.
“Too long. I think I just want to stay in here all night. So, how long are you good for tonight? When do you need to go home?”
“I’m good as long as you’d like. I sent my family away. I don’t like them to be around during an operation.”
“Smart thinking.”
*************************************************
Reblogging the second chapter from bdfanfic blog. I feel like with it being a crossover and involving Ra’Jirra, it’s pushing it to file it under bdprequel. But I’m about to post the 7th chapter over there, so if you want to read it, here’s the link to the archive. It’s adult but not porn, pretty much like the Bond movies.
I wanted to do another nice, SFW Prequel related thing, so I came across this.
I want to say that’s by Rawrunes too, but I’m not 100%. Anyway, so I laid down base colors…
Added the shirt color and shading…
And finally some highlighting to come up with this.
I should have stopped right there. Really… It’s good. It’s done. Why oh why must that devil on my shoulder pop up and make me do these things? There is another version. For elsewhere. Bad Draggy!!! Isn’t the 3-d-izing of her boobies enough? MUST you make it worse?
Sashimi commissioned this from Kazerad and it inspired me to do something a little unusual. I’m writing a fanfiction based on it. I’ll be posting it here at bdfanfic.tumblr.com in sections as usual. Here’s Chapter 1. Plot blatantly copied from From Russia With Love, so don’t watch that if you want to be surprised!
__________________
La’Dasha arrived at his office as quickly as she could. She had proven herself worthy of the top assignment as a chief operations officer within the Aldmeri Dominion over the years with exemplary service, yet as a khajiit she knew she would always be under the severest of scrutiny by the Altmer she worked for. Number 1 sat with his back to the door when she came in. He did not deign to turn around, but simply indicated a seat beside another High Elf at his desk.
“Welcome La’Dasha,” said Number 5 beside her. She knew his name was Tormandil, but even that was information she should not possess. She sat in the seat indicated.
“This one was notified of an urgency,” she replied. “This one is ready.”
“We have an unusual assignment for you today, La’Dasha. Does the name Ra’Jirra ring any bells?”
“Agent for Elsweyr. Licensed to kill. One of their best as this one recalls.”
“Yes, indeed,” Number 5 smiled in that too-slick way. The man always reminded her of a reptile, though he was no argonian. Sometimes she expected his forked tongue to peek out from between his lips.
“She has been causing us… difficulty of late. We would like you to eliminate that difficulty.”
“She will be dead within…” La’Dasha began, but suddenly Number 1 swiveled around and La’Dasha instantly silenced herself.
“Death is not enough,” said the porcine elf, quietly at first but growing redder with every word. “No, we would not trouble you with a simple assassination, cat. She must be humiliated. She must be humbled. She must fall to her knees and beg for death! Only then will you be allowed to kill her! Do you UNDERSTAND?!?”
The vehemence of Number 1’s outburst took the khajit aback. This was not usual. Not usual at all. The Altmer prided themselves on their calm and impassive demeanor. Even Tormandil looked shocked.
“This one understands, sir,” she replied quietly. Already her mind was reeling with various scenarios.
“La’Dasha, perhaps you begin to understand,” Tormandil said calmly. “We know you are a loyal and trustworthy agent. You have a 95% success rate, the highest of all our operational chiefs. Yet your… personal predilections are somewhat distasteful, if I must say.”
The khajiit grinned a toothy grin. She wasn’t completely sure which ‘predilection’ he was referring to, nor even which he knew about, but when speaking with a high officer of the Aldmeri Dominion, it was always best to assume they know everything. They usually do.
“Still, quality service forgives much. And your dalliances have never caused us any undue issues.”
“This one’s dalliances do not talk afterwards.”
Number 1 snuffled and turned back around, looking at something on the floor. La’Dasha knew of the trap door there. The light from below indicated there was some entertainment currently amusing him. She looked back to Number 5.
“No,” Number 5 agreed. “They do not. But I do implore you to use your best efforts on this operation. It is of utmost importance that we succeed. To that end we have some… ideas. Please, if you would, let us leave Number 1 in peace and I will fill you in on the details.”
“Oh gods,” La’Dasha thought as she left the office and continued down the hall towards Number 5’s personal quarters.
She liked Number 5 well enough, but his own penchant for mixing business with pleasure left her cold. Worse yet, when the upper management had ‘ideas’, they were usually overly complex and under-imagined. Still, she had always managed to streamline things to get the job done. As for Number 5’s fondness for khajiits, she didn’t mind that so much, but she could never finish the act as she most desired. Tormandil probably never suspected just how close to death he was after he’d lain with her. Or maybe he did. There were those who got off on proximity to danger. She’d certainly had enough of those. But she’d never gotten to taste Altmer flesh. Maybe someday. Hope springs eternal, someone once said.
**********************************
Ra’Jirra was late, but not for lack of trying. Technological progress had been amazingly fast since the near-elimination of magic, but along with it came incumbent problems that no one had anticipated. With all their talk of betterment of all, no one had yet come up with a solution to the problem of traffic in the city. And Torval was growing rapidly. While Ra’Jirra was just a visitor here, still she found that every trip to the headquarters of the HMSS was a new adventure in just how badly the city growth was being managed.
“You’re late,” the secretary said. “Go on in. They’re waiting for you.”
The Leonid head turned to look at her when she entered. “Ah, Ra’Jirra. Glad to see you could make it. We were beginning to worry you wouldn’t make it. Sit down, we have a lot to talk about and you haven’t much time.”
Ra’Jirra crossed to where Queue and Em sat at a small conference table.
“I haven’t?”
While Ta’agra did forbid the use of the first-person pronoun, she was happy to be back in Elsweyr where she didn’t have to think about the quirk it caused in the Common tongue. His Mane’s Secret Service did employ non-khajiit agents of course, but here in the capital of Elsweyr the de-facto language was the khajiit’s own, and she no longer had to structure her tongue around the foreign words, so she didn’t even have think about the pronoun issue. It was simply how you spoke in Ta’agra.
“No. There’s urgent business afoot. You know, of course, of the impending crisis between the Imperials and Hammerfell.”
“Of course,” Ra’Jirra frowned. “Don’t you remember my last assignment? I was in the thick of it!”
“Oh, yes. That’s right. I seem to recall reading something about that. Anyway, the Imperials have asked for our help. It seems a Hammerfell cypher wants to defect. But they can’t be caught stealing her away from Hammerfell during this crisis directly. And there’s another reason…”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“She’s asked for you by name, Ra’Jirra. It seems she’s become somewhat enamored of you, given your recent publicity.”
Ra’Jirra frowned at that. She’d never been much for disguises and going incognito – in fact, she had some small pride, if not outright ego, in announcing her name far and wide. But the story of her last exploit had made it into certainly publications widely read by those into politics and intrigue. And they hadn’t redacted her name.
“I see,” she said simply. “Does she check out?”
“She does. She’s a mid-level cryptologist in Hammerfell’s security department. But Ra’Jirra, it’s more than just getting a cryptologist. She says she can get us their prime encryption device. Ra’Jirra, that would take months for their agents to stop using. If we can get that, every message sent from Hammerfell would be decryptable.”
“And we’d just hand it off to the Imperials,” Ra’Jirra growled.
“Oh, not so!” said Queue, the head technologist of HMSS. “With the device in our hands, we could read the messages, but we would only transfer to the Imperials those that we chose to!”
“Besides, Raj, the Imperials are our friends,” Em said gruffly.
“This week,” Ra’Jirra countered.
The head of the HMSS had to nod at that.
“Anyway, you’re to head off to Rihad as soon as possible. We have an agent there that can fill you in on the details…” Em said, but Queue interrupted him.
“But first,” he said, obviously relishing the moment. “We’ve got a couple interesting devices that you may find helpful on your mission!”
“Oh joy,” Ra’Jirra said, eyeballing him dubiously. “Last time you almost got me stabbed with my own shoe!”
“Pfft,” Queue hissed. Quite literally. Queue was an Argonian. “A small error in metal fatigue calculations. We’ve perfected that now! But look at this…”
“Looks like a briefcase,” she said, opening and closing the lid. Nothing obvious. No hidden compartments that she could make out.
“Ah, no… the secret is in the lock. It’s a combination lock. Here, look… When closed and locked, the case is nearly unbreakable. Only extreme shearing force could break it open. For all practical purposes, it’s invulnerable. But set these symbols to Snake, Snake, Cat and…”
The latch popped open.
“Well, that’s great. But if someone steals the thing, they can force it open eventually. I don’t see the…”
“Oh, no! That’s not the secret! Hammerfell’s been using locks like this for years. They’re ahead of us in technology, you know. But look at this! Set the combination instead to… Cat, Snake, Snake and.”
Queue turned the last thumbwheel and something snapped.
“Dammit!” he cried, snatching his hand back from the case.
“What?” Ra’Jirra asked, looking closely at the combination lock.
“Poison dart. Instant death,” Queue said, nursing his thumb.
“QUEUE?” both Em and Ra’Jirra exclaimed.
“Should I call for a medic?!” Em asked the Argonian.
“No, no… doesn’t work on Argonians. Well. Almost doesn’t. My thumb’s going to be swollen for a week. Dammit! Here, I’ll reset it.:”
“And what’s this gadget?” Ra’Jirra said, turning to the small metallic rectangle.
“Oh, that! Be careful, Ra’Jirra. That’s deadly! The boys in the lab call it the Projectilized Ultimate Suppression System. Unlike the briefcase lock, it’s our own design from scratch!”
“Wait… What do you call it for short?”
“The boys have an unusual sense of humor. We just call it a ‘gun’”
“A gun. Better. How does it work?”
Queue proceeded to tell Ra’Jirra the intricacies of the device, explained about the exploding gas contained within it when triggered by a small hammer, and demonstrated the devastating effect on a side of beef they’d set up on the other side of the room.
The hole it left was impressive.
“Nice!” Ra’Jirra said, taking the ‘gun’. And good to see you’re testing your devices on proper materials too.”
Rawrunes drew this and I colored it. But it’s too lewd for bdprequel, so I’ll just post the “featureless” version. If you want, you can check http://bdnsfw.tumblr.com for the full on BLAM! version.
First, apologies for reblogging that Dmitri story from the same friggin’ account that I posted it from the first time. So… you got it twice. I really suck at this, I’m afraid.
Last night was a really fun (for me anyway!) Kaz stream though. I got a couple of commissions, based (very loosely!) on that Dmitri story. The first one I asked for “Katia being hypnotized by a Freud-looking guy”. If you’ve ever commissioned Kaz for anything, you know he’s going to subvert anything you ask for. You accept it or you just save your monies. In most cases though, honestly, they turn out better than your original idea anyway. So here’s what he drew for me:
I LOVE IT! Not much to do with my fanfiction of course, but it’s awesome on it’s own. Of particular note, the 5 letter limit on character names gives us DMTRI. 🙂 The animation of course. And then there’s those scan lines like I’m looking at a bad 1995 CRT monitor. But damn I’d pay for that game!
I’m a cheapass though and really didn’t pay him enough for this, so I commissioned another I thought would be fairly easy. “Quill-Weave angry at a loose kitchen countertop.” I was honestly surprised he took this – how could he subvert it? But he did, right away. And for a change it actually works perfectly as the last image in the story:
His subversion obviously in the extent of the “loose” part. But… that’s probably about right. Dmitri might have been somewhat underestimating the damage.
So I did modify the original post to add these two images and reblogged it properly from my bdnsfw blog as I’d intended originally, but I’m not going to subject you guys to yet ANOTHER copy of it.
And finally, I heard that Tumblr disabled the raw image hack. This was a deal where you could modify the URL to show (and thus download) full size images of what was uploaded. That really, really sucks for me. I did a ton of Skyrim-screenshot, image heavy stories, and took the time to link every image in them to the raw image URLs so you could click on them and see the full size image.
And now that’s all broken. All of them. I could link to the 1280 images, but it still sucks, and would take more effort at this point than I’m willing to commit. Unlike an awful lot of people, I still like Tumblr – but one if the main reasons I use it is the ease of uploading images (AND the ability to link to the original resolution images). That is now lost. I archive pretty much everything but it would take such time and effort that I guess that’s just something that will just have to stay broken.
Pisses me off, but then again, I don’t pay anything for Tumblr so I guess I’m at the mercy of their ever-changing policies. Or get my own hosted server. (which I already have and wish I’d have started using from the start).
I wrote another fanfiction. It’s pretty porny, though most details are left to your imagination. Which is probably far smuttier than anything I could dream up. Anyway, read if you wish. It’s about the night Dmitri and Katia spent together. There’s some things that don’t quite jibe with the known facts, but I think most work okay.
“Fucking guard duty. Goddammit, we’re necromancers! We should have some skeletons or something do this for us,” he thought as the night came on in earnest. “Besides, what the hell am I going to do if something dangerous comes along? Throw poison at it? This is stupid.”
Dmitri sat down and thought about his life. He’d been doing that a lot lately. He’d been staying here with the other Necromancers ever since they’d been evicted from yet another Mage Guild. Things were really getting tough for his chosen profession these days. He remembered back when he was a young, gangly teenager in mage school, it seemed like such a cool thing to do too. He’d even dyed his black hair blacker and put on eye-shadow back then.
“What could be more cool than being a Necro?”, he’d said to himself.
And, let’s face it, he hadn’t exactly been the most popular kid in school. Aside from the bigger kids picking on him, and the girls ignoring him or worse, it surely couldn’t hurt he’d figured. So he put on black robes (cool), studied hard (not cool) and joined the Necro clique. While it didn’t help with the girls, it definitely reduced the bullying by the bigger kids. Unfortunately he soon found he’d exchanged one set of bullies for another. But somehow he fit in well enough, finding his own niche in the clan. He still didn’t get any girls though. Which was a real pity too. He’d written some fiction and found he had quite an imagination for various… scenarios. Good thing he’d come up with his own secret code for his stories. His Necro-mates would have never let it go had they read them, but when inevitably they did find them, instead they were impressed by his knowledge of ‘Draconic’. It was also a good thing no one knew Draconic well enough to realize it wasn’t.
But now, years later, here he was, standing guard outside these crypts. He had managed to rise to a decent level in the group at least. He was a middling mage, but that was okay. He was too good to kill but not good enough to attract attention. It suited him, really. But it also made it tough to get out of stupid duties like this. Worst of all, he was still a virgin. That stung. He had such an imagination in that department, but by now he’d realized that it was probably the reason he’d never gotten laid. The few times he’d actually talked to a girl, he would start stammering until he’d get so tongue-tied he would just clam up. And he knew why. His imagination would stray to what lay under her clothing, and that would get in the way of him seeing her as another actual person.
Intellectually he knew all this, but it didn’t change anything. He would die an old virgin, he knew, and his own overactive imagination was to blame. But he still had hope even then. If he could ever get enough power to become a Lich upon his death, then he’d get all the girls! Lich lords were really cool!
Then he heard an unusual sound approaching from far away. A steady thump, as of someone running. Or something. The light from the torch was meager at best, and the moon happened to be behind a cloud. He saw nothing, but the sound was getting closer. And then she yelled at him.
“PEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENIS!”
“What?! Land? I thought you were down…”
“PEEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNNIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSS!”
That voice didn’t sound like Landorumil actually, he thought. It sounded more like…
And suddenly she was on him. She hit him like a ton of bricks, knocking him back against the wall and toppling the torch to the ground. A cat. A goddamned khajiit gone crazy. He tried to fend her off as best he could, having had no time to prepare any sort of spell. She seemed to be clawing at his robe! Fortunately she was a light little thing. He gave a good shove and she fell back to the ground.
Immediately he chanted a quick summoning spell and his favorite skeleton appeared in a flash.
“Hold her,” he commanded, and the skeleton obeyed, picking the scrawny khajiit up off the ground while she flailed at it.
“What the hell are you on about khajiit?” he asked, putting the torch back in it’s sconce. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Then he turned back around and saw her clearly for the first time. “Oh my!”
“PENIS!” she said, starting to calm down a little. “You have a penis, right?”
“Um… yeeeees.”
“Please, mister, you’ve got to let me have it! It’s my specialty! I’m good at penises!”
Dmitri looked around. Apparently no one had heard the commotion. That was good at least. Then he turned back to the little khajiit. She’d stopped struggling and was now just dangling from the skeleton’s hand as it held her by the scruff of her neck. She was kind of cute, actually. Dmitri had always loved cats. He kept quite a few around the crypts, having convinced the Powers that Be that they would be good to keep the rats at bay. He’d seen a few khajiits in his life, of course, but never up close. They didn’t tend to hang around Mages Guilds.
“Calm down… Now before we start talking about my penis, how about a little introduction? What’s your name, khajiit?”
“Penis?”
“No. That’s part of my body. What’s your name?”
“Pas… No. NO, that’s not my name anymore. I’m… Katia Managan. Katia FUCKING Managan, and it’s my middle name!”
“Katia Managan. Okay, we’re making progress. What are you doing here, Miss Managan?” Dmitri asked as he looked her over. She smelled faintly of dust and wine, though surely not enough to be this drunk.“
"I broke em. I dropped them all.”
“You’re not making sense, Miss Managan.”
“I can’t make anything. I can’t make a fucking sign.”
“What’s wrong with you? Are you drunk?” Dmitri asked. She was certainly exhibiting all the signs.
“Drunk? Where?”
“Look. If I have Bones here set you back down, will you promise not to attack my robe again?”
“Bonerman! Well, I’m hornully awf. But if you say so. Say, you got anywhere we can be alone?”
“We are alone, Miss Managan.”
“No, I mean alone from you. Just me and Mr. Bonerman!”
“Set her down, Bones.”
The skeleton dutifully did it’s master’s bidding. Dmitri prepared for anything, but the khajiit woman fell to her knees and turned around to face the skeleton’s pelvis.
“Lies and Deceit! You got no boner Bonerman!”
“Miss Managan, maybe I should take you home. Can you tell me where you live?”
The khajiit had rolled on her back and was looking up between the skeleton’s legs and scratching it as if looking for something. Suddenly she started to cry. “I don’t live anywhere. I’m homeless. But my friend in Anvil…”
“Anvil. Okay. That’s not far. Come on, get up. Let’s get you into the cart…”
With that, Dmitri picked up the scrawny khajiit bodily and carried her to the nearby stable. She wasn’t heavy, but she was… warm. Bothersomely warm.
“Now you just wait here, I’ll be back in a minute, then I’ll take you to your friend’s house. Okay?” Dmitri asked.
“Oh! Sure! She’s got a great bed. You can rock me all night!”
Dmitri cringed. Cute as hell, but a bit much for him to handle alone he suspected. “Bones, keep her here. And keep her quiet!”
The skeleton sat on the khajiit’s head. Dmitri was about to protest when he heard her start to moan.
“Oh yeah! Give me that tailbone Mr. Bonerman!”
Dmitri blinked, then went in search of Landorumil down in the crypts. Both returned to the doorway a short time later, his ‘friend’ complaining.
“Okay, but you better be back before the boss gets wind of this.”
“Look, it’s just a few miles away. I’ll be back before dawn easy. Your shift was supposed to start in an hour anyway.”
“What the hell do you have to do in Anvil anyway?”
“Just have an errand to run. Thanks Land. I owe you one.”
“One HOUR!” he said as Dmitri walked back to the stable. Katia was busy sucking on the skeleton’s toes so he hitched a horse to the cart quickly and started off. Unfortunately, just as they were pulling away, Katia happened to look up and waved to Landorumil.
“Hi dude! Wanna fuck?” she called.
“What the hell?” Dmitri heard him yell, but he ignored the shouts and got the horse up to speed as he pulled out onto the path.
“BRING HER BACK!” he heard Landorumil shout, but then he was safely out of earshot.
“Aww. You’re no fun,” Katia pouted.
“Am so. I just… three’s a crowd.”
The khajiit climbed out of the cart and onto the seat beside him.
“What do you mean? Three’s fine! Three’s a PARTY!”
“Look, let’s just get you home, alright?”
Katia turned instantly morose again. “Don’t have a home. I’m a loser. Say, what’s your name again?”
“Dmitri. Glad to meet you. How’d you manage to get all the way out here drunk anyway?”
She lay down on the bench, her head in his lap, which was far more contact than he felt comfortable with.
“Demeter. Say Demeter, you got a penis under here?”
“Dammit Katia, leave my robes alone!”
“Oh! You do have one! Did I tell you, they’re my specialty?”
“Yes, Katia. You told me. Now leave me alone, please!”
“Told you. You’re no fun.”
“Look, we can have fun when we get you back, okay?”
That seemed to satisfy her, for a little bit anyway. “Found some wine in some crypt or something. It was good! Say, wanna see something?”
“Not yet.”
“Look at this! See this?”
She pulled open her blouse. Literally. Buttons flew and were lost on the path behind them.
“Check it out. I got underwear!”
Before he knew what he was doing, Dmitri looked. Brown bra. But then she took his hand and pressed it to a breast.
“Paint! Isn’t it the best idea? I thought it was the best idea.”
He yanked his hand away, but the damage was done. He tried to think of his grandmother.
“It was stupid,” she said, laying back on his lap, but he couldn’t help but notice her blouse remained awfully open.
“I’m a failure, Demeter. Everything I do is stupid. The only thing I know how to do is penises, and that’s too easy.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can do something else.”
The khajiit sat up and looked at him. He looked at her breasts.
“How do you spell Merchandise?” she asked.
“Merchandise?”
“Yeah! How do you spell it?”
“M E R C H A N D I S E”
“You sure I can’t play with your penis?” she asked, her eyes tearing up again.
“No!”
“You’d like it. I can’t spell, but I can do that.”
She put her head back in his lap, but face down this time, nuzzling for it.
“AAAAAAAAA!” he screamed as the cart hit a bump, sending a tooth home.
“Oh! Sorry,” she apologized sitting back up.
“Katia, look. It’s not that I’m not interested, believe me! But… can I be honest with you?”
She lay her head back on his lap again, sighing but at least keeping her muzzle towards the stars this time. “Not into cats. I know. I’ve heard it before. You should have seen me a few months ago! I was all skin! Not a stitch of fur! You’d have liked me then.”
“What? No. Actually, I love cats. But Katia… I’m a virgin.”
“You like boys?”
“NO Katia. I like women! I just… haven’t ever…”
“What?”
“Katia, I’ve never had sex.”
She stared up at him, uncomprehending. “What?”
“I’ve never done it. Until a few minutes ago, I could honestly say I’ve never even touched a woman.”
She snickered. “You still haven’t. You touched paint.”
“Good point.”
“Does it work?”
“Does what work?”
“Your penis. Does it work?”
Now it was Dmitri’s turn to be confused. “Yes it works. Why?”
“How do you know if you’ve never had sex?”
Dmitri’s dark skin let him blush without others noticing. That was one small advantage of being his race. It served him well now.
“Just… trust me, okay? It works.”
“Do you want to be a virgin?”
“Not really.”
“Then… why not?”
“Jeeze Katia, not here. On the road? What are you, some kind of slut?”
“Yup! That’s me. Slutcat. I’ve been called that before. Sometimes I’m a slut. When I’m drunk. When I’m not, I’m a lot… different.”
“You know, you don’t talk like you’re drunk anymore.”
“Oh, trust me. I’m drunk. Drunky and Horn. Do you know, I won’t even remember you when I wake up? I never do.”
“Blackout drunk? Jeeze Katia, how is that even possible? There’s no way you’re that drunk.”
The swaying of the cart and the warmth of her head was beginning to bother him even more. But he tried his best to ignore it. She was awfully pretty though. And that blouse was still open.
She sighed, “You know, after one night my parents sent me to a specialist. He cast some sort of spell on me. Had me watch this medallion. Back and forth, back and forth. When I woke up, he said it wasn’t because I was drunk. He said I have a deep problem with my inadequacy. He said when I get drunk, my personality changes to a slut. He said it’s just an excuse, and that I do it to prove to myself that I have some value. He said that the only thing I am confident of is my sex, and that I use it as a crutch to carry on when I’m normal. He said I keep it as a way to stay confident even though my best attempts to be of any value are worse than mediocre. Well no, maybe I said that.”
“That’s… awful,” Dmitri said. But he was remembering what that breast felt like.
“And…” she paused. “he said it’s the only way I can feel someone else likes me.”
“Now that’s not true. What about your friend?”
They were nearing the outskirts of Anvil when Katia began to cry again. “She’s wonderful. She’s a writer, did you know? I bet she never misspells anything!”
“Probably not. It’s an easy word,” he said
“What?”
“Nevermind,” Dmitri said and started stroked her head, trying his best not to look further down, but failing.
“It’s okay Katia. Everybody is better at somethings than others. It’s no reason to be ashamed of yourself.”
“I’m better at penises.”
“Well, that’s still something, isn’t it?”
“She doesn’t even like em.”
“What?”
“Quill-Weave. She likes other girls.”
“Quill-Weave. Odd name.”
“Argonian. She’s nice. She gave me a hug once. It was awkward.”
“Where does she live?”
Katia sat up and looked around. “Over there. Down that street. But she won’t be home. She’ll be at the bar.”
A few minutes later and they stopped, Dmitri guiding the horse to the alley beside the house.
“Well, here you go Katia,” Dmitri said.
“Not gonna happen, Demeter,” she said, smiling an evil smile.
“What?”
“No way I’m letting you go. I owe you. Come on in, virgin. I’m going to rock your world.”
Dmitri started to protest, but he’d been ogling those furry boobs for far too long. His smile was mixed with fear, but…
“I can’t! Bones… He can’t be seen in town like this.”
The slutcat smiled. “PARTY!!!”
She took his hand and drew him into the house and up the stairs, the skeleton dutifully following close behind.
Dmitri didn’t protest any longer, though he was fairly sure that, dark skin or no, he was glowing by now. Damn she was pretty, but he was as nervous as a… cat. What if it didn’t work? He might have the imagination of an erotica author, but… for real? He wasn’t sure how to do anything for real.
The next four hours were the most incredible experience of his life. To say she was wild was an understatement. And he became just as wild eventually. They found a hidden area in the closet, where her friend apparently kept an odd leather outfit as well as numerous exotic toys. They used them all with abandon. By the time it was over, he was exhausted and completely sated. He’d explored every inch of her. Every fantasy he’d conjured up, she was game for, and her competence was justified. She was good with penises. Very good indeed. They’d even found interesting uses for the skeleton, which, oddly, didn’t bother him. Bones had been his closest companion save for his cats, and of course it helped that he wasn’t really alive. Unlike some sentient skeletons, Bones was just an animatron. In this case, an oversized sex toy. Plus Katia had many ideas of her own. Female ideas that he would never have thought of. She only apologized for not having a large fruit available. They checked the kitchen downstairs, but no – there were no pineapples. There was the kitchen table. And a counter that turned out to be less stable than it first appeared. But no pineapples. The peas were an interesting idea. He found out he really liked peas, if served in certain special ways. They ended up breaking the bowl, but nobody got hurt.
Finally he fell back onto the bed, heaving as if his life were nearly spent. He looked at Katia and she rolled over onto her back.
“Was I good?” she asked.
“The very best,” he assured her. “Unbelievably good.”
She smiled and closed her eyes. “I have all the friends,” she murmured, then she rolled back onto her stomach and began to purr, closing her eyes.
When finally he’d gotten his breath back, she was fast asleep. He got up and put the blanket over her.
“Damn that was fun,” he thought. “If I died tomorrow, I wouldn’t regret it!”
Then he looked around the room. Slowly sanity returned and he saw the room. Really saw it. It was trashed. The red paint on the walls was particularly obnoxious. He looked down. Yup. He had red underwear now.
“Oh gods, what have I done?”
He turned to Bones and got an idea. After a quick search around downstairs, and a trip to a nearby merchant who was open late, he returned with some cleaning supplies, a box of chocolates, a potion that she might well need, and a pen and paper. Then he gave the skeleton a command that the skeleton immediately began to follow, while Dmitri began to write. He yielded to his baser instincts though and pulled the blanket partially off the sleeping khajiit and used her body as a table, taking care not to break through the paper, but enjoying the concept of using her curves as a table. It made his writing sloppier, but he was going to take advantage of every new opportunity he could think of.
“Who knows when I’ll be able to use a woman’s ass as a table again?” he thought. “Damned if I’m not going to this time!”
He was halfway through the letter when the door opened. The argonian’s eyes went wide and he suddenly realized had taken his robe off in case Katia wanted to go another round. “There’s always hope!”
A few minutes later, after some hasty commentary, he found himself downstairs in the author’s parlor. She was seething and crying at the same time. He explained as best he could, but he had to leave out some parts. He explained that Bones would continue until the room was as clean as he could make it, but that he had to go. And he saw no reason to mention the somewhat wobblier countertop.
“She’s really not like that. All the time,” Quill-Weave said as he was preparing to leave. The tears in her eyes belied her protestations that Katia was just a friend. For his part, Dmitri explained that it wasn’t just Katia. He was a guilty party too. It had just been too… wild. And that he really did like her. That mollified the Argonian somewhat.
“Look, Dmitri. You seem like a decent sort. For a man anyway. I’m glad you care for her beyond… just that.”
“I do. Let me just finish the letter I was writing for her, and I’ll be gone.”
“You do that,” Quill-Weave said. “But use the table here. It’s made for writing.”
After the experience tonight, Dmitri thought he would be immune to blushing, but he managed to anyway. He started to explain, but realized it was pointless. She probably understood just fine. He was a man, after all. He finished the letter, went upstairs to leave it on the table, and kissed the khajiit. She stirred a little but went back to her purring. He looked around to make sure the door was still closed, and kissed her again, somewhat lower, just for himself. She purred louder. Then he left the room and went back downstairs.
At the door he paused for a minute, Quill-Weave’s eyes turned to him, still wet but curious.
“Listen, Quill-Weave…”
“Yes?”
“We… well. We found your toys.”
Suddenly the argonian’s eyes went wide.
“Yeah. Those. Um… You might want to boil those. Or something.”
Her mouth dropped open. The rows of teeth were worrisome, so his last words he said were just before he closed the door on the way out..
“Um… especially the purple one. It has been places that… well, you might just want to burn it.”
He heard something hit the door as he closed it quickly. It might have been a shoe. Then he got the hell out of there.
NSFW Prequel Fanfiction for those of you who still remember how to read.
I wrote another fanfiction. It’s pretty porny, though most details are left to your imagination. Which is probably far smuttier than anything I could dream up. Anyway, read if you wish. It’s about the night Dmitri and Katia spent together. There’s some things that don’t quite jibe with the known facts, but I think most work okay.
“Fucking guard duty. Goddammit, we’re necromancers! We should have some skeletons or something do this for us,” he thought as the night came on in earnest. “Besides, what the hell am I going to do if something dangerous comes along? Throw poison at it? This is stupid.”
Dmitri sat down and thought about his life. He’d been doing that a lot lately. He’d been staying here with the other Necromancers ever since they’d been evicted from yet another Mage Guild. Things were really getting tough for his chosen profession these days. He remembered back when he was a young, gangly teenager in mage school, it seemed like such a cool thing to do too. He’d even dyed his black hair blacker and put on eye-shadow back then.
“What could be more cool than being a Necro?”, he’d said to himself.
And, let’s face it, he hadn’t exactly been the most popular kid in school. Aside from the bigger kids picking on him, and the girls ignoring him or worse, it surely couldn’t hurt he’d figured. So he put on black robes (cool), studied hard (not cool) and joined the Necro clique. While it didn’t help with the girls, it definitely reduced the bullying by the bigger kids. Unfortunately he soon found he’d exchanged one set of bullies for another. But somehow he fit in well enough, finding his own niche in the clan. He still didn’t get any girls though. Which was a real pity too. He’d written some fiction and found he had quite an imagination for various… scenarios. Good thing he’d come up with his own secret code for his stories. His Necro-mates would have never let it go had they read them, but when inevitably they did find them, instead they were impressed by his knowledge of ‘Draconic’. It was also a good thing no one knew Draconic well enough to realize it wasn’t.
But now, years later, here he was, standing guard outside these crypts. He had managed to rise to a decent level in the group at least. He was a middling mage, but that was okay. He was too good to kill but not good enough to attract attention. It suited him, really. But it also made it tough to get out of stupid duties like this. Worst of all, he was still a virgin. That stung. He had such an imagination in that department, but by now he’d realized that it was probably the reason he’d never gotten laid. The few times he’d actually talked to a girl, he would start stammering until he’d get so tongue-tied he would just clam up. And he knew why. His imagination would stray to what lay under her clothing, and that would get in the way of him seeing her as another actual person.
Intellectually he knew all this, but it didn’t change anything. He would die an old virgin, he knew, and his own overactive imagination was to blame. But he still had hope even then. If he could ever get enough power to become a Lich upon his death, then he’d get all the girls! Lich lords were really cool!
Then he heard an unusual sound approaching from far away. A steady thump, as of someone running. Or something. The light from the torch was meager at best, and the moon happened to be behind a cloud. He saw nothing, but the sound was getting closer. And then she yelled at him.
“PEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENIS!”
“What?! Land? I thought you were down…”
“PEEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNNIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSS!”
That voice didn’t sound like Landorumil actually, he thought. It sounded more like…
And suddenly she was on him. She hit him like a ton of bricks, knocking him back against the wall and toppling the torch to the ground. A cat. A goddamned khajiit gone crazy. He tried to fend her off as best he could, having had no time to prepare any sort of spell. She seemed to be clawing at his robe! Fortunately she was a light little thing. He gave a good shove and she fell back to the ground.
Immediately he chanted a quick summoning spell and his favorite skeleton appeared in a flash.
“Hold her,” he commanded, and the skeleton obeyed, picking the scrawny khajiit up off the ground while she flailed at it.
“What the hell are you on about khajiit?” he asked, putting the torch back in it’s sconce. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Then he turned back around and saw her clearly for the first time. "Oh my!”
“PENIS!” she said, starting to calm down a little. “You have a penis, right?”
“Um… yeeeees.”
“Please, mister, you’ve got to let me have it! It’s my specialty! I’m good at penises!”
Dmitri looked around. Apparently no one had heard the commotion. That was good at least. Then he turned back to the little khajiit. She’d stopped struggling and was now just dangling from the skeleton’s hand as it held her by the scruff of her neck. She was kind of cute, actually. Dmitri had always loved cats. He kept quite a few around the crypts, having convinced the Powers that Be that they would be good to keep the rats at bay. He’d seen a few khajiits in his life, of course, but never up close. They didn’t tend to hang around Mages Guilds.
“Calm down… Now before we start talking about my penis, how about a little introduction? What’s your name, khajiit?”
“Penis?”
“No. That’s part of my body. What’s your name?”
“Pas… No. NO, that’s not my name anymore. I’m… Katia Managan. Katia FUCKING Managan, and it’s my middle name!”
“Katia Managan. Okay, we’re making progress. What are you doing here, Miss Managan?” Dmitri asked as he looked her over. She smelled faintly of dust and wine, though surely not enough to be this drunk.“
"I broke em. I dropped them all.”
“You’re not making sense, Miss Managan.”
“I can’t make anything. I can’t make a fucking sign.”
“What’s wrong with you? Are you drunk?” Dmitri asked. She was certainly exhibiting all the signs.
“Drunk? Where?”
“Look. If I have Bones here set you back down, will you promise not to attack my robe again?”
“Bonerman! Well, I’m hornully awf. But if you say so. Say, you got anywhere we can be alone?”
“We are alone, Miss Managan.”
“No, I mean alone from you. Just me and Mr. Bonerman!”
“Set her down, Bones.”
The skeleton dutifully did it’s master’s bidding. Dmitri prepared for anything, but the khajiit woman fell to her knees and turned around to face the skeleton’s pelvis.
“Lies and Deceit! You got no boner Bonerman!”
“Miss Managan, maybe I should take you home. Can you tell me where you live?”
The khajiit had rolled on her back and was looking up between the skeleton’s legs and scratching it as if looking for something. Suddenly she started to cry. “I don’t live anywhere. I’m homeless. But my friend in Anvil…”
“Anvil. Okay. That’s not far. Come on, get up. Let’s get you into the cart…”
With that, Dmitri picked up the scrawny khajiit bodily and carried her to the nearby stable. She wasn’t heavy, but she was… warm. Bothersomely warm.
“Now you just wait here, I’ll be back in a minute, then I’ll take you to your friend’s house. Okay?” Dmitri asked.
“Oh! Sure! She’s got a great bed. You can rock me all night!”
Dmitri cringed. Cute as hell, but a bit much for him to handle alone he suspected. “Bones, keep her here. And keep her quiet!”
The skeleton sat on the khajiit’s head. Dmitri was about to protest when he heard her start to moan.
“Oh yeah! Give me that tailbone Mr. Bonerman!”
Dmitri blinked, then went in search of Landorumil down in the crypts. Both returned to the doorway a short time later, his ‘friend’ complaining.
“Okay, but you better be back before the boss gets wind of this.”
“Look, it’s just a few miles away. I’ll be back before dawn easy. Your shift was supposed to start in an hour anyway.”
“What the hell do you have to do in Anvil anyway?”
“Just have an errand to run. Thanks Land. I owe you one.”
“One HOUR!” he said as Dmitri walked back to the stable. Katia was busy sucking on the skeleton’s toes so he hitched a horse to the cart quickly and started off. Unfortunately, just as they were pulling away, Katia happened to look up and waved to Landorumil.
“Hi dude! Wanna fuck?” she called.
“What the hell?” Dmitri heard him yell, but he ignored the shouts and got the horse up to speed as he pulled out onto the path.
“BRING HER BACK!” he heard Landorumil shout, but then he was safely out of earshot.
“Aww. You’re no fun,” Katia pouted.
“Am so. I just… three’s a crowd.”
The khajiit climbed out of the cart and onto the seat beside him.
“What do you mean? Three’s fine! Three’s a PARTY!”
“Look, let’s just get you home, alright?”
Katia turned instantly morose again. “Don’t have a home. I’m a loser. Say, what’s your name again?”
“Dmitri. Glad to meet you. How’d you manage to get all the way out here drunk anyway?”
She lay down on the bench, her head in his lap, which was far more contact than he felt comfortable with.
“Demeter. Say Demeter, you got a penis under here?”
“Dammit Katia, leave my robes alone!”
“Oh! You do have one! Did I tell you, they’re my specialty?”
“Yes, Katia. You told me. Now leave me alone, please!”
“Told you. You’re no fun.”
“Look, we can have fun when we get you back, okay?”
That seemed to satisfy her, for a little bit anyway. “Found some wine in some crypt or something. It was good! Say, wanna see something?”
“Not yet.”
“Look at this! See this?”
She pulled open her blouse. Literally. Buttons flew and were lost on the path behind them.
“Check it out. I got underwear!”
Before he knew what he was doing, Dmitri looked. Brown bra. But then she took his hand and pressed it to a breast.
“Paint! Isn’t it the best idea? I thought it was the best idea.”
He yanked his hand away, but the damage was done. He tried to think of his grandmother.
“It was stupid,” she said, laying back on his lap, but he couldn’t help but notice her blouse remained awfully open.
“I’m a failure, Demeter. Everything I do is stupid. The only thing I know how to do is penises, and that’s too easy.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can do something else.”
The khajiit sat up and looked at him. He looked at her breasts.
“How do you spell Merchandise?” she asked.
“Merchandise?”
“Yeah! How do you spell it?”
“M E R C H A N D I S E”
“You sure I can’t play with your penis?” she asked, her eyes tearing up again.
“No!”
“You’d like it. I can’t spell, but I can do that.”
She put her head back in his lap, but face down this time, nuzzling for it.
“AAAAAAAAA!” he screamed as the cart hit a bump, sending a tooth home.
“Oh! Sorry,” she apologized sitting back up.
“Katia, look. It’s not that I’m not interested, believe me! But… can I be honest with you?”
She lay her head back on his lap again, sighing but at least keeping her muzzle towards the stars this time. “Not into cats. I know. I’ve heard it before. You should have seen me a few months ago! I was all skin! Not a stitch of fur! You’d have liked me then.”
“What? No. Actually, I love cats. But Katia… I’m a virgin.”
“You like boys?”
“NO Katia. I like women! I just… haven’t ever…”
“What?”
“Katia, I’ve never had sex.”
She stared up at him, uncomprehending. “What?”
“I’ve never done it. Until a few minutes ago, I could honestly say I’ve never even touched a woman.”
She snickered. “You still haven’t. You touched paint.”
“Good point.”
“Does it work?”
“Does what work?”
“Your penis. Does it work?”
Now it was Dmitri’s turn to be confused. “Yes it works. Why?”
“How do you know if you’ve never had sex?”
Dmitri’s dark skin let him blush without others noticing. That was one small advantage of being his race. It served him well now.
“Just… trust me, okay? It works.”
“Do you want to be a virgin?”
“Not really.”
“Then… why not?”
“Jeeze Katia, not here. On the road? What are you, some kind of slut?”
“Yup! That’s me. Slutcat. I’ve been called that before. Sometimes I’m a slut. When I’m drunk. When I’m not, I’m a lot… different.”
“You know, you don’t talk like you’re drunk anymore.”
“Oh, trust me. I’m drunk. Drunky and Horn. Do you know, I won’t even remember you when I wake up? I never do.”
“Blackout drunk? Jeeze Katia, how is that even possible? There’s no way you’re that drunk.”
The swaying of the cart and the warmth of her head was beginning to bother him even more. But he tried his best to ignore it. She was awfully pretty though. And that blouse was still open.
She sighed, “You know, after one night my parents sent me to a specialist. He cast some sort of spell on me. Had me watch this medallion. Back and forth, back and forth. When I woke up, he said it wasn’t because I was drunk. He said I have a deep problem with my inadequacy. He said when I get drunk, my personality changes to a slut. He said it’s just an excuse, and that I do it to prove to myself that I have some value. He said that the only thing I am confident of is my sex, and that I use it as a crutch to carry on when I’m normal. He said I keep it as a way to stay confident even though my best attempts to be of any value are worse than mediocre. Well no, maybe I said that.”
“That’s… awful,” Dmitri said. But he was remembering what that breast felt like.
“And…” she paused. “he said it’s the only way I can feel someone else likes me.”
“Now that’s not true. What about your friend?”
They were nearing the outskirts of Anvil when Katia began to cry again. “She’s wonderful. She’s a writer, did you know? I bet she never misspells anything!”
“Probably not. It’s an easy word,” he said
“What?”
“Nevermind,” Dmitri said and started stroked her head, trying his best not to look further down, but failing.
“It’s okay Katia. Everybody is better at somethings than others. It’s no reason to be ashamed of yourself.”
“I’m better at penises.”
“Well, that’s still something, isn’t it?”
“She doesn’t even like em.”
“What?”
“Quill-Weave. She likes other girls.”
“Quill-Weave. Odd name.”
“Argonian. She’s nice. She gave me a hug once. It was awkward.”
“Where does she live?”
Katia sat up and looked around. “Over there. Down that street. But she won’t be home. She’ll be at the bar.”
A few minutes later and they stopped, Dmitri guiding the horse to the alley beside the house.
“Well, here you go Katia,” Dmitri said.
“Not gonna happen, Demeter,” she said, smiling an evil smile.
“What?”
“No way I’m letting you go. I owe you. Come on in, virgin. I’m going to rock your world.”
Dmitri started to protest, but he’d been ogling those furry boobs for far too long. His smile was mixed with fear, but…
“I can’t! Bones… He can’t be seen in town like this.”
The slutcat smiled. “PARTY!!!”
She took his hand and drew him into the house and up the stairs, the skeleton dutifully following close behind.
Dmitri didn’t protest any longer, though he was fairly sure that, dark skin or no, he was glowing by now. Damn she was pretty, but he was as nervous as a… cat. What if it didn’t work? He might have the imagination of an erotica author, but… for real? He wasn’t sure how to do anything for real.
The next four hours were the most incredible experience of his life. To say she was wild was an understatement. And he became just as wild eventually. They found a hidden area in the closet, where her friend apparently kept an odd leather outfit as well as numerous exotic toys. They used them all with abandon. By the time it was over, he was exhausted and completely sated. He’d explored every inch of her. Every fantasy he’d conjured up, she was game for, and her competence was justified. She was good with penises. Very good indeed. They’d even found interesting uses for the skeleton, which, oddly, didn’t bother him. Bones had been his closest companion save for his cats, and of course it helped that he wasn’t really alive. Unlike some sentient skeletons, Bones was just an animatron. In this case, an oversized sex toy. Plus Katia had many ideas of her own. Female ideas that he would never have thought of. She only apologized for not having a large fruit available. They checked the kitchen downstairs, but no – there were no pineapples. There was the kitchen table. And a counter that turned out to be less stable than it first appeared. But no pineapples. The peas were an interesting idea. He found out he really liked peas, if served in certain special ways. They ended up breaking the bowl, but nobody got hurt.
Finally he fell back onto the bed, heaving as if his life were nearly spent. He looked at Katia and she rolled over onto her back.
“Was I good?” she asked.
“The very best,” he assured her. “Unbelievably good.”
She smiled and closed her eyes. “I have all the friends,” she murmured, then she rolled back onto her stomach and began to purr, closing her eyes.
When finally he’d gotten his breath back, she was fast asleep. He got up and put the blanket over her.
“Damn that was fun,” he thought. “If I died tomorrow, I wouldn’t regret it!”
Then he looked around the room. Slowly sanity returned and he saw the room. Really saw it. It was trashed. The red paint on the walls was particularly obnoxious. He looked down. Yup. He had red underwear now.
“Oh gods, what have I done?”
He turned to Bones and got an idea. After a quick search around downstairs, and a trip to a nearby merchant who was open late, he returned with some cleaning supplies, a box of chocolates, a potion that she might well need, and a pen and paper. Then he gave the skeleton a command that the skeleton immediately began to follow, while Dmitri began to write. He yielded to his baser instincts though and pulled the blanket partially off the sleeping khajiit and used her body as a table, taking care not to break through the paper, but enjoying the concept of using her curves as a table. It made his writing sloppier, but he was going to take advantage of every new opportunity he could think of.
“Who knows when I’ll be able to use a woman’s ass as a table again?” he thought. “Damned if I’m not going to this time!”
He was halfway through the letter when the door opened. The argonian’s eyes went wide and he suddenly realized had taken his robe off in case Katia wanted to go another round. “There’s always hope!”
A few minutes later, after some hasty commentary, he found himself downstairs in the author’s parlor. She was seething and crying at the same time. He explained as best he could, but he had to leave out some parts. He explained that Bones would continue until the room was as clean as he could make it, but that he had to go. And he saw no reason to mention the somewhat wobblier countertop.
“She’s really not like that. All the time,” Quill-Weave said as he was preparing to leave. The tears in her eyes belied her protestations that Katia was just a friend. For his part, Dmitri explained that it wasn’t just Katia. He was a guilty party too. It had just been too… wild. And that he really did like her. That mollified the Argonian somewhat.
“Look, Dmitri. You seem like a decent sort. For a man anyway. I’m glad you care for her beyond… just that.”
“I do. Let me just finish the letter I was writing for her, and I’ll be gone.”
“You do that,” Quill-Weave said. “But use the table here. It’s made for writing.”
After the experience tonight, Dmitri thought he would be immune to blushing, but he managed to anyway. He started to explain, but realized it was pointless. She probably understood just fine. He was a man, after all. He finished the letter, went upstairs to leave it on the table, and kissed the khajiit. She stirred a little but went back to her purring. He looked around to make sure the door was still closed, and kissed her again, somewhat lower, just for himself. She purred louder. Then he left the room and went back downstairs.
At the door he paused for a minute, Quill-Weave’s eyes turned to him, still wet but curious.
“Listen, Quill-Weave…”
“Yes?”
“We… well. We found your toys.”
Suddenly the argonian’s eyes went wide.
“Yeah. Those. Um… You might want to boil those. Or something.”
Her mouth dropped open. The rows of teeth were worrisome, so his last words he said were just before he closed the door on the way out..
“Um… especially the purple one. It has been places that… well, you might just want to burn it.”
He heard something hit the door as he closed it quickly. It might have been a shoe. Then he got the hell out of there.
Oh Sentient Socks, where have you gone? Oh, he wasn’t the finest artist doing Prequel fanart, but in my opinion, he may have been the funniest. But he’s disappeared and, I fear, forever. Here’s one of his best that I decided to color.
First, yeah, Quill’s hands are too small. Okay. Let’s move on. That’s not the point. And BTW, I get about as NSFW on this as I could, so if that’s too lewd, don’t look farther! I’ve got lots of “in progress” pics, but I’ll just jump to the finale so you don’t have to go through them all if you don’t want.
Okay, that’s where we’re heading. Might be overworked but wth. I don’t get paid for this shit. 🙂 First, we have the base colors:
And yeah,the clothes aren’t colored yet. Why? Why, TRANSPARENCY my boy! No, there’s no reason whatsoever that their clothes would be in the slightest bit transparent. Well, no reason besides my own interests… Next up, background base colors.
Working on background colors now. That scratchy red star thing was a beast! The rest are just base colors, and I wanted to make sure the wall was a different shade from the floor. Let’s get some clothes on though.
Okay. There. Clothes. Transparent Clothes. And yeah, naughty bits – even for Katia if you look close at the top left frame! These are actual transparent layers too. I can remove the transparency if I want. But I’m a perv. Time to turn on the light.
I figured a single light, orange-ish shaded. A single candle or lantern most likely so the light’s going to be pretty sharp. I loved how QW turned out in the light. Actually I’m literally painting light here rather than adding shade as usual, because the whole piece was a bit dark. How to add light? Well, I chose to go with Color Dodge layer anyway.
Here I’ve added some shading. Also notie the shadows in the top left and top right frames. Those are new. Followed a tutorial to figure out how to do them properly. Now add some shiny and that’s about it.
The above image is ALMOST like the final version, but in the above image the clothes are opaque. You may get the form of a lizard nipple, but you don’t get to peek at anything underneath! 🙂 Told you they were adjustable transparency!
Anyway, that’s what I’ve been working on the last couple days. Like I say, it may be overworked, but I did learn some new techniques and hopefully getting better at older ones.
Anyone reading this knows what Prequel is, and probably has already read the update. But I wanted to talk about it a bit since IMHO (In My Humble Opinion. Anyone who thinks that means anything else is just dead wrong) it’s the best update in a long, long time for multiple reasons:
1. Something HAPPENED. Katia’s not just sitting helpless in a cage any longer. She has (and I think I hate this word but it works) AGENCY. Some, possibly minor, control over her own destiny again.
2. Though she’s now mind-controlled by Sigrid again, she also has Sigrid mind-controlled. So at least she ends on almost equal footing.
3. She now has gladiatorial calcium in her corner so she’s not totally alone.
4. We can actually SEE her again. She’s no longer invisible! (
5. The last two panels.
Before I get into the meat of what I want to say, just a shout out to Kaz for that double-text “Don’t say anything!”. Clever use of CSS and text to indicate they are both making the exact same command. I doubt most people will think about that, but it’s a cool method of conveying that rather than the more expected two-lines.
1. Ever since the end of Infiltrate (way back in SEPTEMBER 2017 BTW!) Katia has been invisible and stuck in a cage. She had no ability to affect her destiny. Everything she tried failed. Sigrid just appeared to be too powerful to touch and had anticipated her every move. Frankly, it’s been a slog. Throw in slow updates (sorry, but… they are slow.) and you have waning interest. It just hasn’t been a good story.
However, at the end of the last update, things were picking up. She was doing SOMETHING, even if I could see little way it could help significantly. But I was definitely interested again, and that’s a good thing. Problem is we’d seen Sigrid counter every move and I was scared she was just going to counter this one too. If that would have happened, there would have been a mass exodus I think. (Not me. I’m friggin hooked for life. Sometimes it pisses me off, but I am anyway.)
On that topic, here’s why I think Katia, though still in a cage, has the upper hand anyway. First, she overcame Sigrid’s musk last time unusually fast. That’s what Sigrid’s been asking her about for all this time. How did she do it? I don’t think even WE know how she did it – but it implies she will likely get over it before Sigrid does. If that happens, she can just borrow some perfume and keep the upper hand. Kaz would never let that happen, but still it offers hope. Second, though Sigrid has her tumblespider, it’s not intelligent (probably). Katia has summoned skeleton that is, and is working on her behalf. (I wonder if he knows the skeleton that was cleaning up QWs room?). Plus there’s that sword that is obviously not there for no reason. Actually that’s probably not good for Katia. She’d screw it up. Like having a loaded gun around. Still, it APPARENTLY is a good thing.
2. However, are they both actually CHARMED like Katia was when she was with Sigrid before? Silenced obviously, but CHARMED? If so, neither Katia nor Sigrid would want to do anything to hurt the other. If they’re both just silenced, but still are enemies, things get problematic. Katia is blind which limits what she can do a lot. But then, if they’re actually charmed, then neither will react normally till one gets un-charmed. So this actually could be the end of conflict between them for some time. Hopefully Sigrid will let her out of the cage and share some ice cream. And if the charms are identical in power, Katia has proven she can break out of it abnormally quickly. So I’m hoping for the Charmed outcome, even though that means less conflict for awhile.
3. Assuming the skeleton sticks around and doesn’t get destroyed, Katia may have found her first real companion. Okay, hired gun, but still. In the long run though, what’s the cost of that? Cairn-Corp probably doesn’t mess around. They may end up her biggest enemy yet – faceless (flesh-less) corporation. But hey, if the alternative is coercion or death by Sigrid, good choice anyway. I do wonder if this skeleton might know the one Dimitri had cleaning up the bedroom though. That might lead weird places.
4. It’s so good to see canon Katia again, even if she is blind. And those last two frames… I’m sure that was Cider work, at least partially. Even Sigrid is cuter than normal. But Katia is downright adorable when she screams! Of course, her paint is peeling a bit. That got me wondering… is Kaz going to try to track exactly what parts of her paint are peeling so he can keep it consistent? Jeeze, that would be just like him – to worry about something so inconsequential. As for her being nekked… always good to throw the fan-service in. Unfortunately I bet her clothes are stolen if she ever gets out of here anyway. I say good riddance. I never liked em. She needs a new outfit anyway. I wonder if Sigrid would lend her something?
5. These are just so good. I feel kind of bad to say that, because those complex .gifs undoubtedly took a hella lot more work. But… I even like Sigrid here! Probably because for the first time, in the last panel she’s not completely in control. That’s a nice thing to see.
Anyway, that’s it. I just felt like ranting on the new update. I’m finally looking forward to the next scene. Mostly to find out if they are really charmed with each other, or just obeying each other’s commands. I hope for the charmed outcome really. I’d love to see Sigrid being as nice as can be to Katia AND vice-versa. No, I’m not shipping them. Katia belongs to Quill-Weave regardless of the stupid author. What does he know?
bdprequel 