Nature of Indulgence

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Sanguine X (Fem) Dragonborn (Warning<Remember she's insane>Self harm<Don't read if you're sensitive>Sadism/Masochism(to an extreme)<this story is fucked up>Knifeplay<blood>)

No one knew just how carnal the lord of debauchery was. There seems to be a misconception of his adorian nature. A beastial spirit, His mood is one never to be taken lightly; As for mortals, they are as likely to love him as curse him. I have heard him be called many names, Sangun- blood cat, Blood made pleasure- some would even call His greatness The Prince of Hedonism. 

As a vampire, I was a part of his sphere; the blood lust- like a darkness gnawing up from the center of my very bones- a passion. Though most counted this as a dark curse, I felt convicted that this burning was a divine blessing. Even so, as Molag Bal created the first vampires, My heart was drawn the the Blood made pleasure- far more than the king of Hate. My journeys had been vast, years had gone by since the defeat of Alduin, and since my first encounter with Sanguine. The misty grove had completed my yearning spirit but only in part; As alcoholism was not my true calling- no, for i had much darker indulgences on my mind. Though, now my soul groans restlessly for the sweet company that is the Daedric prince, I ponder of what gains were truly acquiesced through the power i had wrought. 

When only silence clawed around in my head, my teeth began to clatter as i grew angry with myself. 

A rasping moan broke the silent cycle, as the thrall beside me seemed to expire; he was old, and had been with me since Helgen- yet he was treated with care; more like a pet than a thrall in truth. A small sob escapes me as i turn away, The last of my trusted inner circle- the life of an immortal is far lonelier than advertised. 

A rolling wave of emotions crash into me, as my glowing eyes dart to the iron bar door to my left; one of my many lesser servants sobs, mourning the body behind me. Yes... A horrible whisper creeps into my mind; Oh, draw my attraction, you know how, pet. Show me how artistic you can be...His voice is but a tease, but an echo in the depth of my crumbling psyche. 

A chill dusts my pale skin, as my anguish is easily forgotten in the wake of excitement: Perhaps this could be my chance to end my loneliness? Pulling my dagger from its sheath, it's dark metal glinting in the dim light- my breath catches as i draw the blade over my left arm. My eyes blur as i attempt to recall the daedric runes correctly, the lines i draw leak with a beautiful beading of crimson. The scent of copper tickles my nostrils as the lines between pain and pleasure smear tempestuously together- slick warmth begins to rivulet down my flesh as the sigil is completed. 

Instantly, i am yanked from reality, sucked into a lilac prism; from which i was thrown onto a humid, encompassing darkness- a familiar warmth filling my senses as the throbbing in my arm dulls. The air smells of honey and copper, akin to the aroma of fine argonian bloodwine- a swirling, deep red mist is the only thing currently visible. 

"Good pet.." Sanguine calls to me from the void, a slickening sweat overcomes me as his voice strums along my very nerves; coaxing the fires of passion ever higher.

A strangled noise comes from my throat, as i try to beseech his bloody glory, "Now..." was the only word to form and escape the precipice of trembling lips; As weary eyes scan over my body. 

Spreading, the mist breaks- as the daedric prince himself steps forward; his ebony skin glistening with streaks of mauve, hair slick against his forehead. Obsidian eyes draw paths over my slender frame, as he inches closer to me, "What is your indulgence?" his words are but vapors, echoes to my ears.

"You..." The moist air makes breathing a luxury, as i pant indecorously, a smirk pulls the corners of his mouth to their climax. Large hands find my aching flesh, forcing my eyes upon his with a firm grasp on my chin.

"so be it."


part 2? 

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