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                “What do you mean, ‘not now?’”

                Gunmar glanced up from trying to smooth out a nick in his blade, lifting an eyebrow at the Bosmer standing there, staring at him in incredulous irritation. That was refreshing: When they’d met she’d been so shy she could barely talk more than two or three sentences. “Sorry, Loa, but not now. In a few weeks, maybe.”

                “You’ve been pushing me to try one of your trolls since you brought them here,” she said, frowning in confusion and discomfort. She wasn’t used to arguing with people—not too used to interacting with them at all, really. Killing was one thing, and she was good at it. Interacting…that required an entirely different set of skills that she’d rather hop off High Hrothgar than acquire.

                He sighed, setting his blade aside and rising, making her shy back. She reminded him of a little doe, soft brown with big eyes and full of moments of deep stillness or flurrying movement. “Here,” he said, waving for her to follow him. Biting the inside of her cheek, she did, stopping beside him to look into the enclosure. “See what I mean?”

                Loa’s eyes widened. The trolls inside eyed each other warily, teeth bared and hackles lifted. Many of the rest of the Dawnguard had missed those subtle signs, but they wouldn’t in a week or so when the bellowing and fighting would start. “What’s wrong with them?”

                “It’s spring; what’s wrong with most animals?” he asked with a hint of humor.

                “Oh,” she said, her cheeks taking a ruddy tone.

                “Speaking of,” he said, a hint of mischief entering his expression, “how’s that young man of yours?”

                “Um…he…left,” she said, blush fading and looking away. “We…fought. He headed back to his stronghold.”

                Wincing, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah. Sorry.”

                “You didn’t know,” she said, shifting uncomfortably. “I…I’m sure you have…uh, things,” she added haltingly, turning red again.

                “Of course,” he said, for once as grateful as she to end a conversation. Glancing back at his trolls a moment as they shuffled, he turned back to find her already gone.

 


 

                Loa rested her chin on her knees, arms clasped about her legs as she sat on Fort Dawnguard’s roof, staring out over the mountains. She was glad for spring—with the lessening cold she wasn’t forced to spend time in the Fort, dodging conversation. By now, most of the members knew she was the quiet sort, and she’d managed to get more comfortable around them this last year. Still, she had never longed for company, not until…

                She sighed, flopping backwards on the tiles and watching the clouds, faintly lined in pink from the sunlight that no longer kissed the Fort. After a few too many close calls getting caught too close for her bow to be practical, she’d finally taken Isran’s advice and gotten someone to help her, someone to draw attention to themselves as she took out enemies at a distance. At the time, meeting Gorbash had seemed a gift of providence. He’d not minded her lack of social skills, was familiar enough with the Green Pact to avoid awkwardness, and had not only tolerated her, had actually seemed to like her.

                Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, she conceded that she’d actually thought he’d more than liked her.

                The wind shifted, bringing a hint of chill, and something else. Loa froze, ears pricking unwittingly. She wasn’t sure which of the men had set up a little getaway on the top of the tower, copy of The Lusty Argonian Maid imperfectly hidden among the furs of the bedroll. It had been so long since she’d discovered it that she didn’t think about it too much, but she certainly was now. Pants and little tormented gasps of self-pleasure rang in her pointed ears, impossible now to ignore. Biting her lip, she rose silently, embarrassed and resolutely trying to ignore the way her suddenly sensitive nipples rasped against the cloth of her shirt, or the pooling warmth between her thighs.

                Something else she hadn’t missed before Gorbash.

                Moving to another part of the roof, her mind followed that track no matter how she tried to pull it back. Touching herself had always been a pointless exercise, so much so that before she’d actually had a lover, she hadn’t known why people fussed with it. Now she did. Closing her eyes and laying back against the cold slate, she recalled walking in on him that first night, thick cock in his hand, sweat rolling down his brutish features, body bowed slightly as he leaned against a pillar in the old mine they had camped in. She’d not really seen one before, not erect, anyway. Something had tightened in her stomach and her mouth had watered looking at it, suddenly feeling empty and damp. He’d looked up at some sound she’d made and moved, striding right over and capturing her against him. He’d given her a chance to get away, of course, asked her if she wanted to, and by that point, feeling hands touching her in new, exciting ways, she’d wanted nothing more.

                Loa’s hand traveled down her side, coming up to cup her breast and lightly pinch the nipple through her thick gambeson, the pressure doing little to ease the sensitivity. She’d reacted so enthusiastically to him that night that he’d had no idea it was her first time with another. She’d had things inside her before, trying to reach that peak people spoke of, so there was no telltale barrier to correct that assumption. The moment his fingers had slipped into her folds and felt how slick she was, she swore he’d almost gone into that berserk state he sometimes used in combat, tearing her pants down and bending her over a nearby bolder. She could almost feel the press and scrape of the rock over her nipples now. Loa had been breathless, wanting, and wondering. The feel of his rough thumbs pulling the fleshy mounds of her rear apart to better see her entrance had been a revelation, and the throaty chuckle he’d given as he looked down at her had made her stop breathing.

                “Malacath, but you’re wet,” he’d rumbled, then thrust forward, the few scant inches he’d forced into her quivering body more than she’d ever taken before. She felt so stretched and full and she wanted more, wanted him in places she hadn’t known she had, but could now feel aching for touch, for friction. The noises she made that night were new to her, writhing as he cursed in surprise, praising her tightness, the way she arched back for him, the way she felt around him as he stretched her further and further. The Bosmer had been a wrecked, drooling mess by the time she felt his hipbones pressing into her ass. Gorbash had laughed, one hand still digging into the flesh of her hip, to lean over her back and nuzzle along her bare shoulder and neck, the sharp scrape of his tusks making her shiver in need. “Never had anything this big before, eh?” he asked, sounding smug.

                Loa had shaken her head, whimpering slightly and arching up as his free hand slid beneath her stomach, up over her taunt breasts to lightly grasp her throat.

                “You ain’t felt nothing, yet,” he growled into her ear, then pulled himself almost completely out of her with a speed that left her gasping, only to shove back in before her mind could quite comprehend the loss, spreading her all over again, his heavy sack slapping into her engorged clit. Holding her entirely still, he shuttled in and out of her with all the speed and power she’d admired in battle. It took a full minute for her to start breathing again, but the moment her breath was back, she found her voice in a way she’d never used it. The first scream begging him for more made him stutter his pace, then slam back in with a moan. She squirmed around him, needy cries echoing around them.

                “Oh, you little minx,” he gasped out, holding her writhing, moaning form to him hard enough to bruise, “Who knew you were hiding that?”

                Loa shook her head, fingernails scraping along the arm that held her and the pistoning hip behind her, incapable of thought and seeing sparks. She could barely tell one thrust from the next anymore, just glorious sensation within her core, the rasp of his lips, tongue, and tusks over the skin of her neck, the brush of his chest hair and the sweep of her own just reaching her nipples as he lifted her against him, everywhere their skin connected another small point of pleasure.

                “Ah!” she managed, shocked all over again as this new angle drove his steel-like erection against a new spot. Her nails dug into him as the pleasure turned almost painful, her body tightening until he had to hold her thighs apart with a strong, calloused hand.

                “Loa, I’m…” he groaned against her, biting her shoulder as his movements became erratic, going to pull out, but she pushed her hips down firmly, needing his flesh within hers, wanting him to hit that spot at least once more… “Damn, woman!” he ground out, the hand forcing her legs open moving to her slit, roughly circling her clit.

                She wailed as she felt him erupt within her, a rush of heat that soothed and titillated her pleasured, abused flesh as it undulated around his pulsing girth.

                Loa panted with remembered pleasure, wishing she were reliving the sensations of that night. The air was punishingly cold around her as she undid the laces of her pants, needing something—needing Gorbash—inside her so badly she could scream. Screaming was a decidedly bad idea, given where she was. She had nothing with her, nothing to fill her aching pussy and find release with. Twisting, she shoved all four of her fingers within herself, gasping at the cold digits but beginning to ride them immediately, rubbing her inner walls with a fervor that would have shocked her before she’d had that man inside her, destroying her for ever being alone again. But she was alone now, and the slight friction that she was able to create coaxed nothing more but a flutter from her. Frustrated, she let the cold wind caress her naked, wet labia and stared at the stars, listening once more to the quiet of the mountains.

 


 

                “It’s been three weeks.”

                Gunmar turned in surprise, taking in the slight form of the shy Bosmer, surprised she’d sought him out. She’d been even more elusive of company than usual lately, though that could simply be because of her recent breakup. “Three weeks for what?” he asked.

                “The trolls. Can I take one?” she asked. At his slightly doubtful look she sighed. “Look, I…I need a partner now. I mean,” she flushed, “I need someone that focuses attention off me, so I don’t get, well, clobbered.”

                The Nord smiled sympathetically. “Going a bit stir-crazy, are you?” he asked.

                Loa flushed, looking down. He had no idea exactly how correct that was. Going out alone was dangerous, though she did go hunt in the Rift’s forest to pass the time. However, she couldn’t bear the thought of heading out with one of the others. Worst, was that the ache between her thighs had never fully abated. If she could get one good orgasm…but her own touch only frustrated her more. She needed something hard and deep inside her, and her own hands weren’t doing it. Increasingly often she’d spot a common object and her pussy would clench, imagining it inside her. Since she’d never felt particularly turned on by a broom handle or candlestick before, she had turned away, embarrassed, only to fantasize about it later. Trying to find privacy for it when she couldn’t quite stifle her moans was another headache.

                No, she needed out of the fort, she needed a mission, and for that she needed help.

                At least a troll wouldn’t constantly badger her for conversation.

                “They’re still a bit on edge,” he said, hating to disappoint her. “They could hurt you.”

                “I’m Bosmer,” she reminded him with uncharacteristic curtness, “We have a way with animals. Worse case, I Calm it.”

                Gunmar sighed again, but sensed if he didn’t give her what she wanted, she’d go alone, and they might not see her again. “Fine,” he said, watching her face brighten, “but just for a test run. Go take out a bandit nest or something, the kind you could take on alone. And if it charges you, get up high before you try any of your fancy Wood Elf tricks.”

                Lips twitching slightly at his words, she bounced a bit on her toes and eagerly agreed.

 


 

                She called it Grunt, mostly because it did it a lot. Loa watched the troll out of the corner of her eyes, wondering if she hadn’t been a bit too eager to get out of the Fort. It was restless, growling, pacing and looking off into the woods. Making the mental decision to sleep in a tree that night, she wondered if he would still be there when she climbed down in the morning.

                Dusting off her hands, she stood, scattering the crumbs from her lunch. Green Pact Bosmer couldn’t eat any of the vegetation of the Vallenwood forest, and most interpreted that as “at all,” but she took a slightly looser approach. She didn’t eat fruits or vegetables, but grains and breads she quite enjoyed. She’d offered some to Grunt, but it had thrown it at the water, drawing a lot of fish that it then charged in and seized, mildly impressing her. The way it had tore them apart before eating had made her a bit nervous, though.

                “Let’s go, Grunt,” she said softly, picking up her bag and starting on. The straps tugged at the cloth of her shirt, and she sighed at the sensation against her breasts, wondering if she should perhaps start wearing a band; she’d always considered herself too small to really warrant one.

                The troll followed her, scaring the life out of wildlife in their path that normally just stared at her from a safe distance. When they finally reached the bandit nest she’d instantly thought of (a small, five member group in an abandoned house), she slowed. “Alright, Grunt,” she said, feeling slightly foolish for talking to it so as she pulled out and swiftly strung her bow, “Get ‘em.”

                The response was immediate. The troll roared, racing forward and taking the bandits completely by surprise. Loa blinked after it a moment before darting forward, blending into the trees and sniping whoever came into view. Her heart raced, and she felt a grin stretching her lips. Blood hammered in her veins, wind tore through the tawny strands of her hair… Yes, this was what she had needed.

A huge man in brigandine armor rushed out the door, massive warhammer swinging in his hands as lightly as a piece of thistle. The hammer clanged off Grunt’s armor, and the troll paused, turning to glare at the man before reaching out and seizing his head. Loa paused, watching in horrified fascination as the beast took out its own frustrations on the man. She was glad he was dead for most of it.

                Moving carefully out into the open, ready to jump into the trees if Grunt greeted her with hostility, she called out carefully. The troll turned, still holding an arm, and roared at her, then went back to stomping the bandit’s torso into the dust. Loa shrugged as he started to eat it; saved her having to make jerky out of them.

                The inside of the house held a bit of loot, but mostly supplies. She would have to tell Isran about it: What could serve a bandit nest could easily serve the Dawnguard. On a shelf in the lower room she spotted a horker tusk on the shelf and stared at it a moment, recalling the feeling of Gorbash’s tusks scraping over her skin. The feelings came rushing back, heightened by adrenaline, and she groaned. Well…grabbing the tusk, she shoved it into her personal pack and headed back upstairs, taking a final look around.

                A Dwarven mace sat on the floor near the bed. It was too big for everyday use; they must have salvaged it from a Centurion somewhere, or more likely it was a ceremony piece. Her current train of thought had her halting, staring at it as her breath came faster. It had been set on it’s head, handle sticking straight up, the pomelnut the size of a small apple atop the ridged grip. A low moan escaped her, quickly muffled before she paused. There was no one here but her. No one to judge, no one to be quiet for.

                Heart pounding, she examined it, running her hands over it. It alternated texture; smooth metal bindings around coarse leather, half-bead rivets forming their own bumps along the pommel and sides, the metal slightly warm from being set near the fire. She wanted it in her immediately.

                Her pants were off before she registered that she’d removed her boots, one leg propping against the edge of the bed as she rose over it, unable to move such a heavy thing. The first brush of the hard metal against her pussy had her moaning again, crying out joyfully as it breeched her, stretching her around it. Loa’s eyes rolled back as her knees bent, shaking with the effort of keeping her up. Every ridge of the handle rubbed against her long-abandoned places, until she finally halted, unable to take any more.

                Ecstasy filled her, spurring her to ride the mace harder than she’d ever rode anything, even her lover. Her hands roved over herself, groping and pinching. The metal warmed further with her heat, and looking down showed the entire thing coated with her dripping juices. It had been so long, and her legs were trembling with exhaustion before the coil of pleasure inside her tightened. Loa came with a fury that sent her sprawling, mace and all, whimpering as the heavy thing pushed her toward the floor. Gasping, she slid along the wood until it eased from her, not quite satisfied but better, so much better than she’d been for weeks. Flopping over and simply breathing, she heard a noise from the door.

                Glancing up, she spotted Grunt watching her, its triple eyes roving over her. She froze, and it sniffed the air. With a final grunt, it turned and went back out to maul something.

                Her clit throbbed, igniting the need for another orgasm. Sitting up, she tried to move the mace back to the way it had been, but it was simply too heavy. Cursing big humans and their stupidly heavy battle mementos, she shakily got dressed and went out to see what Grunt had left of the bandits, which turned out to be little enough that she didn’t even feel guilty for not eating any of them.

 


 

                They took out two vampire nests before she even considered returning to Fort Dawnguard. Loa lay back against the wide treebranch she’d chosen, looking up into the bows of the tree at what little she could see the sky, content. Grunt shuffled along below her, not going far from the base of the tree. It had taken to doing that every night, making her feel like a treed cat the first few times it had happened, but she was able to get down just fine in the morning, or when she needed to use the Little Elves’ Bush. The thought wiped the smile from her face, remembering how Gorbash had laughed incredulously the first time she’d said that to him. The way he threw his head back when he laughed reminded her of his strong jawline, and how much she’d loved watching the muscles of his neck strain when he was fighting release.

                Loa groaned, smacking her hands over her face. Curse it all, did everything have to remind her of that dratted man? Well, of his bedroom abilities, anyway. She paused, thinking about that. Did she really miss him, or just what he did to her? Nibbling her lip, she admitted she missed the physical more, though she did miss his company once in a while. She missed Lydia from time to time as well, however, and the emotion was practically the same even though she’d never so much as touched the other woman.

                One leg dangled down the side of the branch as she ran her fingers idly over the top of her mound, not even noticing what she was doing until the tingling grew from something pleasant to something demanding. Huffing, she jumped down, startling Grunt, who once again sniffed at her, but didn’t move. Greatly daring, she reached out, ruffling the coarse fur of its head. It drew back with a confused shake of its head, making her laugh softly. “Good Grunt,” she said, then halted as it lifted its head to sniff at her fingers.

                Loa withdrew her hand, going over to her pack while keeping a careful eye on the troll. A flush painted her cheeks as she withdrew the horker tusk, examining the girth and bumps, feeling liquid gush between her thighs at the thought of it inside her.

                Sitting before the fire, she simply flipped her gambeson up and spread her legs. Back when Gorbash was with her, they’d ended up fucking so much that when he’d ripped open the crotch seam of one of her pants, she’d simply left it, liking the naughty little secret of having her labia bare to whatever texture or breath of air they might encounter. Now, she enjoyed the warmth of the fire, shivering a little in anticipation as she lightly ran the edge of the tusk through her slit, teasing herself for once. The blunt tip caressed her clit as she slid a hand inside her gambeson and rolled a nipple between her fingers, then dipped down to edge her opening. Turning the thing, she regarded the wide end, covering in ridges, doing one final examination that they weren’t sharp. She didn’t want to ease herself into anything tonight, she wanted all those lovely ridges as far inside her aching channel as she could stuff them.

                Loa leaned back and began working the tusk inside her, squirming and panting at the sensations. She might have to start with the narrow end after all, she thought, then froze as something brushed against her leg. Her eyes flew open to see Grunt had wandered over, watching her curiously. Its massive head was between her knees, examining what she was doing, the nostrils flaring as it inhaled deeply.

                Putting the tusk aside, she cautiously tried to draw away from the troll, but a hand that eclipsed even Gorbash’s for size smacked down on her hip, holding her in place. Despite herself, Loa whimpered at the sensation, then fell back as hot breath wafted over her folds. Holding very still, she waited for Grunt to finish trying to figure out what she was doing and shuffle back off, just liked it had done when she’d brushed her hair, mended her armor, or any half a dozen things it had never seen before.

                She was not expecting it to lick her.

                Jackknifing upward, she stared at it, all the banked fires roaring back to life. “Grunt, no,” she said firmly, pushing at its head. “Bad.”

                Grunt made and angry sound and shoved its entire tongue in her cunt.

                Loa shrieked in surprise, indignation, and sheer pleasure, and went on shrieking as the thick muscle twisted inside her, examining every crevice with keen interest. Desperately longing for it to thrust its wonderful tongue in and out of her, she lifted her hips toward Grunt’s face, forcing more inside her. “Oh, yes, oh yes ohyes…”she gasped out, thrashing and whining and so close…

                The protrusion was withdrawn just as abruptly as it had been shoved into her, making her sob with need. Opening her eyes, she saw Grunt standing over her, reaching down to lift one of her legs like she puzzled it. Her eyes widened as she corrected herself, “puzzled him.”

                She had never seen anything like the heavy spear of flesh that had emerged from Grunt’s front. Thick as both her arms put together, flaring at the top in an almost egg-shaped ball, with—Y’ffre help her—a ridge of teardrop shaped protrusions each the size of the pad of her thumb down the length of the underside, and on either side near the top. About midway down the shaft a ring of slightly thicker flesh pushed those knobs out, and Loa could literally feel her slick dripping down her ass, flushing at the obscenity of her new, very desperate, desire.

                One bare foot lifted, rubbing along the side of the shaft as Grunt growled lowly at her. Scooting forward slightly, she pressed it down until it glided along her slit, whimpering at the sensation.

                Grunt roared, falling forward over her and shoving his hips forward, impaling three inches of that amazingly depraved cock inside her, the head popping inside with a stretch she hadn’t felt in far too long. A huge smile bloomed on Loa’s face, not fading as the creature grabbed her slender hips with two massive, leathery hands, and started trying to shove her down his cock.

                Loa grabbed the hands at her waist, unable to do anything but hold on as he fucked himself into her, every ridge brushing against her, the pain-pleasure of being so full already making her see stars. She gasped and managed to cast Healing, wanting to ensure she enjoyed every minute of this. Grunt snarled, jerking further into her, and she grinned, realizing he was enjoying the spell. Experimentally, she cast it again, then bowed backward and shrieked as the troll jerked his hips forward again, and her loins somehow met his hips. Dazed, she looked down, taking in how incredibly tiny she looked, spread around that massive cock. She whimpered slightly when Grunt moved, but placed her hand against his chest, one of the many signals to stop he’d been ingrained with. Somehow, Loa didn’t expect it to last all that long.

                Gorbash had once told her that her pussy looked so pretty, wrapped around his cock. She thought it looked better now, so spread open her clit had nowhere to hide from the brush of coarse fur that caressed it with every breath. Shakily reaching up, she slid her gambeson from her shoulders, fondling her breasts and just marveling at how filled she felt. Her hips twitched as she hit a nipple. Grunt grunted, then surprised her by lifting a hand, copying the gesture with his thick thumb, growling with increasing volume as the action made her writhe around him. The vibrations went right through her and she came, shrieking, with a troll’s cock buried deep within her, his fur brushing her clit, and his thumb rolling over her peaked nipple. It was just too much to take.

                Grunt slammed her back onto the log hard enough to drive the breath out of her, pulling himself from her only to drive back in relentlessly. Loa stared at him, unable to think, unable to do anything but feel the gargantuan, ridged flesh shuttling in and out of her with a ferocity unmatched. Every flick of his pelvis drove him from her entrance to her womb, leaving nothing untouched. His hands grabbed her waist, eyes staring down at her as he growled, the vibrations shaking her entire body. For a moment, she thought he’d come, but the short spurt of warmth inside her did nothing to diminish his erection, though it did add a new layer of lubrication—not that she needed it.

                Abruptly, he rolled her over, not even pausing. The feel of all those ridges and skin being twisted inside her set her off again, orgasm ripping through her and making her vagina spasm desperately. Loa came back to herself, writhing and cursing, her bare breasts scraping over the tree bark, a raised knot in the wood perfectly positioned to rub her clit. Grasping the log, canting her hips back to accept the most thorough fucking she’d ever received, Loa wondered idly if she’d live through it. Another orgasm built rapidly within her, and she decided it wouldn’t be an entirely bad way to go.

~

                It was near dawn when Grunt started to tire. Loa raised her head from his chest, clinging to the fur for purchase after he’d simply picked her up and continued bouncing her over his cock with both hands. She was tired, overstimulated, and pretty sure the Restoration school had never meant to be used like that. Her clothing was completely shredded, the fire long out, leaving Grunt her only source of warmth. His still-pistoning cock felt burning hot inside her, contrasting sharply with the air against her skin.

                “Finally settling down?” she asked him, gasping as he hit a particularly nice spot. “Oooooh…” she said tiredly, burying her face back in his fur.

                Grunt twitched within her. Loa felt her heart pick up, wondering what it would feel like to finally have him come in her. That’s not what she felt. Her mouth fell open as the hottest part of his shaft pulsed, then started swelling. “You have a fucking knot?” she growled.

                Growling right back, the troll ground her down against him, spearing every last bit inside her aching, tingling sheath.

                Giving into the inevitable, Loa sighed in pleasure, reaching down to guide his thumb to her clit. She liked the texture of his skin over her most tender areas, and he’d learned how to make her squirm throughout the night. “Yeeeesss,” she hissed faintly, kneading her breasts because his hands were busy. A whine of surprise escaped her as it continued to grow, expanding until she thought she couldn’t possibly take more before it finally stopped. She’d thought when he’d first shoved inside her that he found every possible nerve ending: now she discovered a few hundred more. Squirming as discomfort turned to pleasure, the knot seating itself right over the spongy, swollen flesh of her g-spot, pressing one of those nubs directly on it, she found she had a bit of energy after all, twisting and fucking herself over the knot while Grunt made desperate noises. Suddenly, his entire body flinched, his cock twitching with enough force to make her sway, and molten heat filled her, spreading through her womb and vagina with enough force she saw stars, coming messily.

                Grunt fell on his back in the middle of the campsite, completely spent. Loa, still straddling his hips with his knot buried deep in her cunt, looked down at him in surprise, then smiled affectionately.

                “Well, Grunt,” she said, rolling her hips over his and gasping as it rubbed everywhere, “I think this is the beginning of a long and beautiful partnership.”

                The troll made a sound that sounded far too humoring for her slaphappy imagination. Smiling, she leaned over as much as she could and grabbed her bag. “You rest,” she said indulgently, still gently riding his cock. Downing a stamina potion and reaching down to her clit, she added, “You’ve been such a good boy.”