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Maybe he should have seen Teldryn’s Sero’s nature from the start, from the first night they sat discussing the terms of his patronage in Sero’s neat small room at the Netch. He could have taken advantage sooner.
“First things first,” Kordin said, sighing inwardly as he looked into chitin goggles. “Take off that damn helmet. I want to see who I’m hiring, and Geldis tells me you definitely don’t need it.”
The mercenary seemed to stiffen up.
“What did Geldis tell you, exactly?”
Geldis had, in fact, extolled the mercenary’s physical charms in such gushing detail that Kordin was sure Geldis himself had designs on Sero. He idly wondered what it’d be like to have Geldis and another handsome mer at once.
“Just take it off, elf.”
His commanding tone had a desirable effect on the mercenary, who unwrapped his scarf and lifted the ugly chitin.
Underneath, he was as much of a prize as the garrulous Geldis Sadri had claimed. With classic Dunmer cheekbones, blazing eyes, a shock of black hair along the center of a shaved head, and symmetrical facial tattoos that enhanced his masculine beauty, Sero more than stirred Kordin’s interest. The patron hummed in deep approval, and wondered if the sellsword provided other services.
“Now the rest of the armor,” Kordin said, somewhat impulsive. Impulsive was the way he often felt in the presence of lovely elven men. Maybe he could play it off as a joke. Maybe.
Sero shook himself out of some sort of daze.
“Why? You know what I look like now.”
“I want to see everything I’m paying for. Make sure you’ve really got a good fighter’s body under there.”
Sero looked down, returning to his earlier strange acquiescence, and began to unbuckle the rest of his chitin. It was as if he’d been here before, Kordin remembered thinking.
This time the Nord gasped quietly and almost whistled at the sight of the wiry but well-muscled body, but kept his lust in check. Sero cast his shining red eyes down, his face coloring as he was examined. The shoulders were broad for a Dunmer, the ass neat and high under the clean loincloth.
“You. Wow. You are worth every septim already, just to look at.”
“Sera. I’m—I’m not a--”
“I know. You’re just the ‘best swordsman in Morrowind’. We’ll see about that, too.”
“You won’t be disappointed,” Sero said, meeting his eyes as if he’d forgotten his state of undress. “I promise.”
“Oh, I’m certain I won’t,” Kordin said, winking at the mostly-nude mer, running his gaze suggestively up and down his hard succulent body. “On any count.”
Sero colored more deeply, dark pink beneath grey.
“Sera. May I get dressed?”
Kordin smiled. He had taken him for a simple cocky warrior, and yet here he was asking permission. Highly interesting, to say the least.
Kordin found it hard to concentrate on the more practical discussion they had afterwards about splitting loot and extra payment for long journeys. During this talk, he wished he could see that chiseled face again, but the man had put back on his damnable chitin. Kordin began to be certain he had stripped only in order to fuck with him. And he didn’t like to be fucked with.
Already mildly annoyed with this, and with the sellsword for not also doing the reasonable thing and offering his delicious body for coin on the side, Kordin returned to his room and got himself off, thinking of the Dunmer’s jutting ass in the loincloth, and his stern but pleasantly full lips, how they’d look wrapped around Kordin’s drooling prick.
Kordin yanked the arrow-head from the firm grey flesh of his mercenary’s shoulder.
His first few days with the fierce Dunmer beauty had been trying. The man had an opinion on everything, and Kordin preferred a quiet, obedient sellsword, one who knew his place. And while his skills were certainly worthy of pride, Teldryn Sero, “best swordsman in Morrowind”, went beyond pride, even beyond the usual Dunmer hauteur. It was not in what he said, exactly, but how he said it.
The first night’s agreeableness must have been a ruse. He’d downright forgotten who was the patron and who the hireling.
Now he’d gotten himself injured, and by Kordin’s own arrow.
“I clearly told you to stay out of the way, elf.”
“I know,” grumbled Sero as he choked down the homemade healing potion Kordin had pressed on him. “But I had him, I really did. I stabbed that cultist fetcher right in the belly, didn’t you see?”
“Damn right, you did. But you also disobeyed me.” Kordin gripped Sero’s strong shoulder and looked into those deep red eyes. The worthy grey-skin was nude except for trousers. Helmetless, still bleeding, and ravishing.
“What’s more, you damaged the goods.” He spoke close to Sero’s pointed ear, purposely exhaling into it. “You damaged what I paid for.”
Sero looked down at his hands, then up again at Kordin. “You paid for my sword-arm, n’wah. And that’s what you--”
Kordin backhanded him across his high right cheekbone, leaving a swath of red under the smooth tattooed grey. Sero made a weird strangled noise.
“You won’t insult me again, grey-skin. And I paid for everything I saw that first night; that’s why I wanted to see it. Your arm is no good if you’re so careless with the rest of that body.” He gave the elf’s shoulder a pinch. “And there’s the issue of your attitude. I refuse to be disrespected and disobeyed by a common sellsword.”
Sero was looking down again.
“What do you think I should do about you?” demanded Kordin, mouth again close to Sero’s shapely ear.
“I--I’ll leave, if you like,” Sero suggested, without much enthusiasm.
“Does it seem like I want you to leave?” Kordin asked him, maintaining his closeness and commanding tone.
“No...”
“So, what do I do with you?”
Sero turned away, and Kordin took his squared, stubbly chin in hand and made him look at him.
“No ideas? Well I have a good one, and I think it’s long overdue. Come on, get up.”
To urge him along, he tugged on that beautifully tapered ear, which he had just warmed with his breath. Soon he’d led him out to the wooden benches around the fire.
“I want you naked and bent over that bench, Sero.”
The elf narrowed his eyes as if considering refusing. Kordin laughed and jerked on his ear again, making him recoil.
“I’m not going to rape you, grey-skin. This time, anyway,” he laughed, letting some of his natural cruelty creep in. “I’m only going to make sure you remember who’s in charge. I think a good solid whipping will do nicely, don’t you?”
Sero went completely still, as if hit with an ice spell.
“Alright, sera,” the Dunmer murmured, eyes down. “If you--if you think it’s necessary.”
Kordin began to undo the Dunmer’s trousers himself, delighted when Sero did not stop him. Indeed, Sero’s whole essence seemed to go calm and quiet.
His flawless nude body was particularly appealing in the partial moonlight, which made gave his skin a silvery sheen.
“Bend your ass over.”
Sero did it without a word, folding himself awkwardly over one of the worn benches, presenting his thickly muscled ass and sleek grey thighs and back.
“Very good. Wait there.”
Kordin entered the tent and rummaged in his sack for a thick leather strap he’d picked up in the village on the first day of his business relationship with the difficult elf.
“Gods, you are in great condition,” he said, admiring the gorgeous elf in his submissive pose. “Hold still, now. This’ll hurt, but unlike you I wouldn’t dream of damaging such quality goods.”
He approached Sero from behind, watching as a minute shudder ran down the Dunmer’s back. That was where he chose to strike him first, leaving a long rosy stripe across the broad top of his back, not far from the shoulder wound.
Sero flinched. He hit him again, this time across the buttocks. The leather bounced off the resilient flesh with a loud snap. Then he returned to his shoulders and back, making stripes up and down the sweet grey moonlit flesh. He was impressed with the way Sero did not react, apart from small involuntary movements.
“You’re a tough mer, aren’t you? Taking this so well.”
Sero did not respond, keeping his back and ass steadily presented. He remained stoical as the whipping continued, now lower, the lash giving its harsh kiss to his delectable buttocks and the backs of his thighs. Kordin took great care not to break the silky-looking grey skin, but he left bright welts that accentuated the mer’s natural color.
“You can--” Sero gasped, “You can do that harder, sera.”
Kordin broke into a wide grin. He laughed, giving Sero a rapid series of strokes across the tops of his thighs. Now Sero allowed himself to shudder with pleasure.
“Please, please just… Faster.”
Sero dipped his back and thrust his ass up to meet the next round of leather smacks. The sound of his beating echoed in the clearing as Kordin gave him exactly what he needed—and, apparently, wanted. His round rear end turned a dark red against the grey, as the strokes overlaid each other.
Sero began to shake. He reached down below the bench to touch his own prick.
“None of that, now, Sero. This is still punishment, even if you are a deviant.”
Kordin laughed again. Sero groaned and placed his hand back on the ground as the strap returned to his shoulders and back. He writhed in his own perverse ecstasy. Sweat shone on his whipped flesh. Finally, he gave a long cry and slumped forward.
Kordin went to him and stroked his glistening, striped back.
“Never met one who liked it before.”
The mercenary could only sigh and gasp, as if he’d just come. Gods, he probably had.
“Watching you was… very stimulating.” To make his point, he rubbed his clothed erection against Sero’s bare thigh. “And, since it’s all because of you and your wriggling around, you’re going to help me with it. On your knees, with that lovely mouth of yours. Aren’t you?”
“Yes, sera. If that’s your wish.”
Kordin guided the sore elf so that he was kneeling, his whipped buttocks pressed against ankles. Then he sat on the bench, which was still warm from Sero’s body. He opened his armor and lifted aside his loincloth to reveal his eager hard prick. Between his legs, he could see the pearly mess Sero had made on the ground, and the magnificent sight of the proud Dunmer naked, half erect, head bowed, on his knees. He grabbed Sero by the long part of his hair.
“Gods, you’re amazing like this.”
Sero had a hot and wonderfully willing mouth, and he’d clearly done this before, the way he hollowed his cheeks and let himself be used. Kordin kept his hold on the mercenary’s hair and fucked his mouth mercilessly, listening for a choking sound. But Sero relaxed his tight throat and took him in. He let Kordin guide his mouth by way of sharp tugs on his hair and sharp instructions. It was most satisfying, and all too soon he had filled Sero’s soft mouth with seed. As he looked down at the Dunmer through a haze of ecstasy, he saw the white liquid dripping from the corners of his lips.
“Swallow,” he demanded. Sero did it.
Kordin and his hireling lay together under furs, with the Dunmer still nude, at his patron’s insistence. In a relaxed and indulgent mood, Kordin was stroking his back and ass while Sero remained prone, his head turned toward Kordin, his red eyes shimmering.
“My old patron, that Nord I told you about, he used to whip me when he didn’t like my behavior,” Sero chuckled a little, “which was often. Not that I minded. It made me feel—owned.”
“Owned? You like feeling owned.”
“Yes. By Azura, I don’t know why.”
“I could own you.” Kordin circled his hands around Sero’s wrists, feeling more than indulgent. He'd hide the worst parts of his nature from this one, if only he could keep him. He kissed him again. “Keep you in gold. Keep you in line.”
Sero smiled a rare and gorgeous smile back at him.
“That’s going to be a tall order,” he said, “Hope you’re up for it.”