Author’s note: After working on that Evil Quill-Weave picture, I got inspired to write another fanfic. Not sure if/when I’ll continue it, but here it is. It seems inane to post the same image again, so instead I’ll post an image of my Evil Quill-Weave mod from Skyrim that I use as a Avatar sometimes. The rest is, alas, a wall of text.

The idea had been fermenting in her for months. ‘Foment’ might be the better
word choice, she realized, but with the added implication of alcohol
involvement it seemed more appropriate. It was during her travels doing
research on the doomstones that it had truly moved from fanciful thought
process to a more concrete notion. A rumor had come to her of an undocumented
doomstone deep in the forests south of the Corbolo River. Since a known
doomstone, the Shadow Stone, was in the region anyway it made sense to travel
there.

Of course she had gotten lost, but in a very real sense, that was kind of
the goal. She’d hired a retainer to act as her guide and, though practically
mute, he seemed competent enough. Then they came across a site she’d not
expected. It was a tower, long abandoned but still serviceable, hidden deep
within the forest and apparently completely forgotten. Upon her return from her
travels, she hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. It was her secret, she decided.
Well, her and that retainer. But she’d paid him well to keep quiet, not that he
apparently knew any other way, the faceless Mook. She didn’t even tell her
lover, Castia, and that was saying something.

However, it was Castia that really was the impetus that began Quill-Weave’s
descent into evil. Of course, she’d long been fascinated with the criminal
element of society, yet they never measured up to her imagination. Inevitably,
when you got right down to it, the criminal mind was one of two types. One was
usually a decent enough chap who was pushed into law-breaking by circumstances
beyond his control, then realized he liked it. As long as you didn’t cross him
or threaten to expose him, he was likely to be a nice guy really.

Then there were the crazies. Sociopathic nutjobs who would do whatever they
felt like, at any time, to anyone. Those were the dangerous types and she tried
to spot them quickly and then head the other way. But even they were… random.
They weren’t like the characters in her books, who were always scheming up some
nefarious plot or another. The sociopaths were just nutjobs who had no filter
for any whim that blew across their mind. That’s not really evil. It’s more
like they’re just animals who never developed higher civilized brain function.
Those types she didn’t like though, and on more than one occasion she let slip
a clue or two for the Legion.

Okay, maybe “clue” would be too subtle. She practically handed them notes
saying “So and so did this. Here’s proof. Arrest him.” The Legion wasn’t known
for its deep cunning or wit.

But an author knows more than most how deep words can cut. Being called a
stick-in-the-mud would have been a trivial offense to most. But Quill-Weave was
particularly susceptible to its deeper implications. She had spent years
writing her series on the lowlifes of Cyrodil, and some of those ‘lowlifes’ had
become pretty damned ‘high’ in the political world in that time. She was more
than a little aware of just how bourgeois her own life had become, and in the
back of her mind she resented it. So it only took a little spark to set her
off.

She sat up in bed suddenly one night, realizing what she had to do. She had
to become that which she had sought for all her life. She had to become Evil
Incarnate. Her search for it in the criminal classes had been fruitless. It
didn’t exist. But she was an author. She knew what it must look like and how it
must act. And she had enough resources now to make it reality. So she took a
special trip to the Imperial City to visit a tailor she knew who worked in
specialty products that only certain trades would have a need for.

In front it appeared to be just another shop marketing trinkets and small
leather goods and watched over by an equally nondescript Khajiit. She recognized
Quill-Weave when the author entered. A quick exchange and Quill was led through
a door in the back, then climbed down a hidden trap door to an underground room
of illicit and undeniably erotic fabrics, most of which would require a leap of
imagination to call them clothing.

“So, the great author returns to this one’s humble shop eh? Another story of
prostitution perhaps you are working on?”

“Cut the Khajiit-talk Mae. I’m here as a customer this time, pure and
simple. I need something… special.”

“Alright, alright. I get so used to it I sometimes forget who I’m talking
to. So, what are you looking for? Something lacy maybe? I’ve got this great new
design for a G-string that can even handle an Argonian tail. Here, take a
look!”

Quill-Weave took the pink undergarment with disdain, but then looked at it
more closely. Try as she might, she couldn’t figure out how the damned thing
was supposed to work.

Mae took it back from her with a look of disgust. “You really have no
experience at all, do you Quill? This is where the tail goes… here. Then this
wraps around the front.”

“But then that part is what goes over your… you? But it’s not big enough to
cover…”

“Not meant to cover it, silly lizard.”

“But then why would you eve…”

“Oh forget it. What are you looking for?”

“I need something in leather. Black leather.”

“Oh! I didn’t figure you for the S&M type! Top or bottom?”

“Huh? Well, I need both a top and a bottom I guess.”

The Khajiit rolled her eyes. “Newbie eh? No Quill, that refers to if you are
the Dominant or the Submissive. Master or Slave?”

“Oh! Well then… Master. Definitively Master.”

“Come this way. How do you feel about studs?”

“I’m not into men, Mae.”

“Jeeze, no Quill. I mean metal studs. I’ve got a wide variety. Spikey,
black, chrome. Here, take a look at this rack.”

“Mae, I might like women, but that doesn’t mean I want to see your tits!”
Quill responded to a blank-faced Mae.

“So that’s how it is eh?” the Khajiit finally responded when Quill let the
smile creep over her face.

“Hey, you started it!”

“You’re okay Quill, but puns are evil,” the little Khajiit laughed, handing
her an odd crotch-less pair of pants.

“Um… no Mae. I’m going more for a Master Villain look. Less sex, more severe.”

Though she tried on some very, very interesting outfits, in the end Quill
wasn’t satisfied with any of them. None were quite right for the villain she
was planning to become, though she did purchase a couple cute ones anyway just
to have on hand should the need arise.

“Well, that’s all we’ve got that will fit an Argonian. I’m afraid we’re
going to have to go Custom. Let’s go into my office and see if we can come up
with something more like what you have in mind.”

Some minutes later, Quill was watching Mae do sketch after sketch as they
both made adjustments.

“Now, about the bodice, do you see it as open or closed?”

Quill looked down at her chest. “I’ve not got much in that department. I
guess closed.”

Mae noticed the inherent disappointment in the Argonian’s tone. “Nonsense
Quill. Stand up.”

She did as she was bid while the Khajiit boldly grabbed her under her tits
and lifted them up and pushed them together. She squeaked.

“There, now what do you see?”

“I see a cat squeezing my boobs together. Without my permission I might
point out!”

“Oh, lighten up Quill. I’m going to have to take measurements in a little
bit, and I get need to get very accurate around your tail region. No,
Quill, that’s cleavage and plenty of it.”

“But it’s not real. You’re just squeezing my boobs together.”

“Honey, that’s all cleavage is. And I can design it so you look like a
double-D.”

“Will it be comfortable, being squeezed like that?”

“Hell no. You’re a Dominatrix remember. You’re not supposed to be
comfortable.”

“Oh… yeah. Well then, open if you can make me look like that!”

The Khajiit hastily drew an open bodice.

“More… evil,” Quill commented but a growing smile on her face.

Mae drew what looked almost like horns on the sides, but lowering the bodice
even more to their sides.

“Thats… daring!” Quill said, though her wide eyes showed her approval. “My
nipples won’t show?”

“Darling, you’re an Argonian. You have the distinct advantage of not having
any nipples to worry about! Rock that advantage!”

“You’re right. Let’s go for it! Now, about the dress. I feel like it’s
missing something.”

“Yes… You’ll be practically exposed up top. It’s too conservative below. How
about a slit up the side?”

They both looked at the sketch for a minute.

“No, not enough,” Mae admitted. “Two slits. WAAAY up.”

Quill’s smile became more pronounced. “I’ll never be able to wear any
underwear with that.”

“Ah, but I’ve got just the thing for that. Transparent colored leggings
underneath. It’s my latest design.”

“Do it Mae. How long?”

“I’ll have it done in a week. Cash up front of course. You can take those
other two outfits with you. If you’re going to buy this, they’re on the house.
Now, it’s time for measuring. Quill, don’t be shy and let me do my work here.
Humans have it easy with just two legs to worry about. Even Khajiits have
smallish tails that don’t require a lot of precision. But you Argonians have a
massive tail that must be accommodated precisely. I need to know it’s movements
from full up to down flat to full left and full right if I’m to do a proper
job. So, off with the clothes and lift your tail as high as it goes…”

An hour later, Quill felt like she’d just finished a workout with her lover.

“You sure you don’t want to measure my depth? It seems like the only measurement you haven’t taken.” she quipped
as she pulled her skirt on.

“Don’t laugh,” Mae said while scribbling some numbers on a note pad. “I’ve
had to do that before. Sorta. I’ve done some very VERY unusual work. But
no, I’ve got everything I need now. Of course, I get paid for doing what I do,
and paid handsomely. This isn’t going to be cheap.”

She passed a number to Quill.

An eyebrow was raised.

“The other two outfits are free,” the little tailor reminded Quill, her tail
swishing from side to side in anticipation of a sale.

“What’s this line item? Rubies?!”

“I have an idea. Trust me.”

“After what you just put me through, I should marry you! Go ahead. But don’t
expect a tip!”

“What I just put you through was my tip, my dear. See you in a week!”

By the time the week was out, Quill-Weave had worked up something of a
lather in anticipation. No arch-villain worth his salt could go without the
appropriate outfit after all, and the one she and Mae had worked up was right
up there with her own imagination.

At the sight of her, Mae smiled an enigmatic smile and led her down again.

“Oh, I think you’ll like it. Come, try it on!”

A sparkle of red caught her eye. “What’s this?”

“Just try it on. You’ll see.”

Quill looked around for a dressing room before she caught the disdainful eye
of the tailor.

“Just exactly which part of you were you trying to hide from me?”

“Well…”

“Quill, if you’re going to wear this, you need to BE this. The woman who
wears this dress isn’t going to be looking for a dressing room. She’s going to
look for a whip. Be that woman, or you’ll never fit the dress.”

Quill closed her eyes. When she reopened them, she smiled in a way that
almost looked like a different person. She felt different. She had her
old clothes off in an instant, kicking them aside as if kicking away her old
life. Then she pulled the snug leather over herself. She needed a little help
getting her tail in properly, but otherwise it fit like it was tailor-made for
her, which of course it was.

The look on Mae’s face told her all she needed to know, but she submitted to
be led to a full-length mirror anyway.

“Now, put on these leggings,” Mae said, handing her some very sheer, very
stretchable cloth in a shocking purple color.

“Mae. This is really transparent. I told you, this wasn’t for sex!”

“Darling, everything’s for sex.”

"But… it’s very… breezy. I may not have nipples but I’ve got…”

“BE that woman Quill! The woman that wears this doesn’t give a fuck about
modesty. She wears her modesty in her attitude. If a breeze exposes her, she
will wield such disdain for any who would dare to glance at her they would
melt! You are untouchable. You are…”

“Evil Incarnate!” Quill finished for her and Mae smiled back.

“Yes, that’s it. You are no longer Quill-Weave, you are Evil Incarnate. And
Evil Incarnate doesn’t wear frilly panties.”

Quill took another look in the mirror, her eyes sinking to a sultry glare.
The face that stared back at her was not that of the author whose livelihood
came from telling of the exploits of others. This was the face of the person
that Did Things. She bared her fangs and they shone in flickering underground
light. When she looked back at Mae, the little Khajiit backed off reflexively.

“O… okay Quill. That’s enough.”

Quill stepped towards the tailor silently, menacingly until their breasts
touched and her gleaming teeth reflected in the Khajiit’s wide eyes, frightened
eyes. An involuntary shiver ran through Mae that even Quill could see.

“I like the red skull,” she whispered.

“Please, Quill. You’re scaring me.”

Quill turned around and took off the leggings.

“Sorry Mae,” she laughed. “I had to try it out properly.”

“Heh. Yeah. You’re very good at roleplaying. This is for roleplaying,
right?”

“Sure. Roleplaying. That’s what it’s for. Now, please help me get my tail
out of this. Will I need someone to help me with it every time?”

“Oh no. Here, let me show you. If you just stick your tail in first like
this, the rest is easy. Yes, like that. You’ve got it now.”

“So, what about the skull?”

“Oh, I felt it needed a pop of color. Ruby red. I’ll have you know I looked
all over the city for these and no one had anything even close to matching. I
ended up buying them from some strange guy outside the city. Weird guy. Would
you believe, he wore a lit candle on his shoulder! But he had the perfect
stones. I embedded them into the gloves, belt and these optional gauntlets too.
And the skull just fit so perfectly, I didn’t have to touch a thing! Crazy
cheap too.”

Quill spun back to face her again, her eyes flashing.

The Khajiit’s eyes grew wide again. “I… I meant to tell you I was going to
refund some. Here, you can have this back. I’m sorry Quill, but, well, you know
how it is, right? Business is business!”

“Don’t fuck with me Mae. You’re the best at this work. You deserve your pay.
But don’t fuck me over or you’ll regret it,” Quill said with a menace to her
voice that seemed to come of its own accord. Still, the thrill of that cowering
look in the little tailor’s eyes was intoxicating.

All the long ride back home, she kept the package on her lap protectively
while it kept her warm over the miles, seeming to generate its own heat that
went straight to her core. The look in the tailor’s eyes kept coming back to
her. For the first time in her life, Quill had seen real fear – fear of her –
in someone else’s eyes. She felt at once both ashamed and thrilled by it – the
thrill seeming to reach deep into her core and to fill a space she barely knew
existed. Something both primal, physical and essential.

She couldn’t wait to get back home, lock the doors, shutter the windows and
try it on again.