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Description

    “Jeepers, Ulfric,” said Galmar Stone-Fist, “it sure is dark and spooky in here. I can’t see a thing!”

    “Fear not, o friend of friends,” said Ulfric Stormcloak, placing a calming hand on Galmar’s shoulder, “for I can see through these dusky shadows. Take my hand, that I may guide you.”

    Hand in hand, the two bosom friends made their way through the treacherous passageways of Volkihar Castle. They soon arrived at a large, dark tomb, within which lay a solitary coffin.

    “I’m scared, Ulfric,” said Galmar Stone-Fist. He hid behind his heroic friend.

    “Love will see us through the day, my dear Stone-Fist.”

    The coffin opened, and from it arose Serana, the sexy vampiress. She had pale skin, raven black hair, and wore a black and red dress. Her bodice’s low neckline combined with the cloak created a tantalizing cleavage window. Her bosom heaved as she gasped.

    “My!” she said, her voice that of Laura Bailey’s. “I’ve never seen such a man!”

    “Be not afraid, fair lass,” said Ulfric.

    “Afraid? Dear man, my only fear is that . . . that . . .” Serana flushed. “. . . that you would not have knowledge of me.”

    Ulfric laughed a charming laugh. “Who wouldn’t have knowledge of you, fair one?”

    “You’re so charming. I swear I’m not usually this forward.”

    “There is nothing to be ashamed of. You are not the first woman to request this of me, and you most certainly will not be the last! I shall graciously grant your request.”

    And with that, Serana and Ulfric’s clothes fell off. Galmar watched in awe as the virile Nord and the supple vampiress held each other in the throes of tender passion. Serana’s cries of ecstasy echoed about the tomb walls as Ulfric made a woman out of her in all manners of the phrase.

    When it was done, Serana was prim, proper, and a lady of high society. She prepared tea for her guests to thank Ulfric for coming inside her tomb.

    The door swung open and Valerica, Serana’s mother, stormed inside. She looked much like her daughter, just a bit more matronly.

    “Mortal!” She bore her vampiric fangs. Galmar yelped and hid under the table.

    “Stay your hand, Mother!” cried Serana. “Do not harm this wonderful man!”

    “I mean no harm, your loveliness,” said Ulfric. He calmly sipped his tea. “Would you that I would have knowledge of you as well?”

    “Of all the impertinent”—Valerica huffed and fanned herself—“you killed my husband, Lord Harkon! How could you possibly compare to him in the arts of love?”

    “Mother, do not dismiss that which you have not proved.” Serana wagged her finger.

    “Indeed, I slew your husband in honorable combat,” said Ulfric. “And his final wish was that his daughter and his widow might know me.”

    Serana’s hand went to her stomach, a motherly glow coming to her pale cheeks.

    “Very well, then, but can you handle me? For I am cursed by this form, mortal. I can only perform the art of love in manners most violent. My late husband only survived because of his vampiric blood. Can you survive my lustful onslaught?”

    “Ulfric, I beg you, don’t do it!” said Galmar Stone-Fist.

    “I must pleasure this woman, dear friend. It is my most sacred duty.”

    “She might kill you!”

    “Aye, this will be a challenge worthy of my dick. Stand by hard and steadfast, friend of friends. When you are near me, I can do all things.”

    Valerica’s skin turned blue. Her fangs lengthened, wings sprouted from her back, her hips widened, her waist thinned, and her bosom grew. Ulfric grew, himself.

    They crashed through the stone walls. Valerica shrieked and clawed and roared and bit. Ulfric winced at the pain of her claws penetrating his back, but he held tight and stormed the vampiress. He grinned as he met Galmar’s eyes. He knew then that he could pleasure the woman beneath the beast.

    “Victory . . .” he grunted between his powerful man thrusts.

    “No, mortal!” cried Valerica amidst her pleasurable of moans. “D-defe—”

    “VICTORY! OR!”

    “I… I cannot bear it any longer!”

    “SOVNGAAAAAAAAAAARDE!”

    Flowers bloomed all about the vampires’ castle. The clouds cleared and revealed the brilliant sun and beautiful blue sky. Fireworks shot from the castle rooftop. Couples all over Nirn burned in love for one another and gave themselves to passion.

    Ulfric lay next to Valerica, both of them panting and covered in sweat.

    “I am with child, Ulfric. I know not how.”

    “Anything is possible, Valerica. May this strong child ever remind you of me and the time we have spent together.

    “Ulfric!” cried Galmar Stone-Fist. “I tried to stop her from entering, but I was overcome by her ferocity!”

    “Stormcloak!” It was Elenwen, the Thalmor Inquisitor. “You may have finished, but your task continues with me!”

    Ulfric hopped to his feet and gritted his teeth. “I should slay you where you stand, Elenwen.”

    “You would never slay a woman, Ulfric, but you would certainly lay one.”

    “Hmm.”

    And then Ulfric and Elenwen shared knowledge of themselves with one another.

Description

    “Jeepers, Ulfric,” said Galmar Stone-Fist, “it sure is dark and spooky in here. I can’t see a thing!”

    “Fear not, o friend of friends,” said Ulfric Stormcloak, placing a calming hand on Galmar’s shoulder, “for I can see through these dusky shadows. Take my hand, that I may guide you.”

    Hand in hand, the two bosom friends made their way through the treacherous passageways of Volkihar Castle. They soon arrived at a large, dark tomb, within which lay a solitary coffin.

    “I’m scared, Ulfric,” said Galmar Stone-Fist. He hid behind his heroic friend.

    “Love will see us through the day, my dear Stone-Fist.”

    The coffin opened, and from it arose Serana, the sexy vampiress. She had pale skin, raven black hair, and wore a black and red dress. Her bodice’s low neckline combined with the cloak created a tantalizing cleavage window. Her bosom heaved as she gasped.

    “My!” she said, her voice that of Laura Bailey’s. “I’ve never seen such a man!”

    “Be not afraid, fair lass,” said Ulfric.

    “Afraid? Dear man, my only fear is that . . . that . . .” Serana flushed. “. . . that you would not have knowledge of me.”

    Ulfric laughed a charming laugh. “Who wouldn’t have knowledge of you, fair one?”

    “You’re so charming. I swear I’m not usually this forward.”

    “There is nothing to be ashamed of. You are not the first woman to request this of me, and you most certainly will not be the last! I shall graciously grant your request.”

    And with that, Serana and Ulfric’s clothes fell off. Galmar watched in awe as the virile Nord and the supple vampiress held each other in the throes of tender passion. Serana’s cries of ecstasy echoed about the tomb walls as Ulfric made a woman out of her in all manners of the phrase.

    When it was done, Serana was prim, proper, and a lady of high society. She prepared tea for her guests to thank Ulfric for coming inside her tomb.

    The door swung open and Valerica, Serana’s mother, stormed inside. She looked much like her daughter, just a bit more matronly.

    “Mortal!” She bore her vampiric fangs. Galmar yelped and hid under the table.

    “Stay your hand, Mother!” cried Serana. “Do not harm this wonderful man!”

    “I mean no harm, your loveliness,” said Ulfric. He calmly sipped his tea. “Would you that I would have knowledge of you as well?”

    “Of all the impertinent”—Valerica huffed and fanned herself—“you killed my husband, Lord Harkon! How could you possibly compare to him in the arts of love?”

    “Mother, do not dismiss that which you have not proved.” Serana wagged her finger.

    “Indeed, I slew your husband in honorable combat,” said Ulfric. “And his final wish was that his daughter and his widow might know me.”

    Serana’s hand went to her stomach, a motherly glow coming to her pale cheeks.

    “Very well, then, but can you handle me? For I am cursed by this form, mortal. I can only perform the art of love in manners most violent. My late husband only survived because of his vampiric blood. Can you survive my lustful onslaught?”

    “Ulfric, I beg you, don’t do it!” said Galmar Stone-Fist.

    “I must pleasure this woman, dear friend. It is my most sacred duty.”

    “She might kill you!”

    “Aye, this will be a challenge worthy of my dick. Stand by hard and steadfast, friend of friends. When you are near me, I can do all things.”

    Valerica’s skin turned blue. Her fangs lengthened, wings sprouted from her back, her hips widened, her waist thinned, and her bosom grew. Ulfric grew, himself.

    They crashed through the stone walls. Valerica shrieked and clawed and roared and bit. Ulfric winced at the pain of her claws penetrating his back, but he held tight and stormed the vampiress. He grinned as he met Galmar’s eyes. He knew then that he could pleasure the woman beneath the beast.

    “Victory . . .” he grunted between his powerful man thrusts.

    “No, mortal!” cried Valerica amidst her pleasurable of moans. “D-defe—”

    “VICTORY! OR!”

    “I… I cannot bear it any longer!”

    “SOVNGAAAAAAAAAAARDE!”

    Flowers bloomed all about the vampires’ castle. The clouds cleared and revealed the brilliant sun and beautiful blue sky. Fireworks shot from the castle rooftop. Couples all over Nirn burned in love for one another and gave themselves to passion.

    Ulfric lay next to Valerica, both of them panting and covered in sweat.

    “I am with child, Ulfric. I know not how.”

    “Anything is possible, Valerica. May this strong child ever remind you of me and the time we have spent together.

    “Ulfric!” cried Galmar Stone-Fist. “I tried to stop her from entering, but I was overcome by her ferocity!”

    “Stormcloak!” It was Elenwen, the Thalmor Inquisitor. “You may have finished, but your task continues with me!”

    Ulfric hopped to his feet and gritted his teeth. “I should slay you where you stand, Elenwen.”

    “You would never slay a woman, Ulfric, but you would certainly lay one.”

    “Hmm.”

    And then Ulfric and Elenwen shared knowledge of themselves with one another.