Dominion of the Thalmor (Skyrim)

A/N: Dominion of the Thalmor was a commissioned one shot originally written back in October of 2020. Posting it up here and now for people to enjoy!

Themes: Dom/Sub, Master/Slave, Mind Control

-x-X-x-

The Thalmor were in no way fools, or slow to act. They had not gotten where they were by allowing malcontents and wild cards to roam free and operate against them unopposed. As such, within days of rumors of a new Dragonborn reaching their ears, Thalmor Agents were dispatched to find the truth of such matters. Individuals in Whiterun were… discretely questioned as to what they may or may not have seen, and a description of the so-called Dragonborn was quickly gathered up.

Multiple eye witness accounts of the Imperial descended woman seemingly draining the soul of the Dragon outside of Whiterun all but confirmed that there indeed was a Dragonborn running amok. With her description in hand, the Thalmor prepared to hunt her down… only for the foolish woman to come straight to them, in the end.

That was where he came in. His name, though largely unimportant, was Mithlas. But his title and abilities, those mattered far more in this case. He was a Thalmor Justiciar, and a Master Illusionist. Truth be told, it was pure happenstance that the Dragonborn had decided to infiltrate the Thalmor Embassy while he happened to be in residence. He'd been called to the Embassy in Skyrim for another reason entirely… but when Ambassador Elenwen realized exactly who'd walked through her doors under false pretenses, she'd been quick to call for his aid.

Of course, taking the Dragonborn in front of all of those guests would have been… messy. People would have had questions. Best not to raise an alarm. Instead, it was as simple as watching and waiting. As such, Mithlas was all too happy to let the Dragonborn's silly little distraction take place, watching as she used it to slip away into the back areas of the Embassy. The back areas where it would be just him and her.

The handsome Altmer did not wait long after that. As the Dragonborn comes around a corner, he acts from the shadows. The spell he casts on her is one of the most powerful Illusion Magics in existence. More powerful, even, then Harmony. It's a Thalmor Special, the sort of spell one would need to properly pacify an enemy in the long term.

Immediately, the Dragonborn stumbles as the spell starts to take ahold. Mithlas does not reveal himself, however. Instead, he takes the moment to admire the beautiful woman he's currently bewitching from out of view. Her voluminous black hair makes it obvious that she's Imperial. Beyond that, she has freckled cheeks and hazel eyes. Her skin is pale, but not to pale, and judging by the shape of her body beneath those clothes, she'll look even amazing with them off.

"W-Wha-…"

Smiling, Mithlas continues the casting, strengthening it further. As the Dragonborn stumbles and has to catch herself on a nearby pillar, he deems it finally safe to approach. This particular spell, developed by the Thalmor to turn wild cards and dissidents into loyal tools for the Dominion, took time to work, but once it had settled in, it put it's victims in an incredibly suggestive state. One that the Thalmor Justiciar intended to use to his advantage.

"Dragonborn."

His voice is soft, cajoling, kind. The Dragonborn's head still snaps up at hearing him speaking to her, her eyes going wide for a moment in fear as she sees him approaching. But Mithlas just smiles at her, waving a hand and casting the spell a third time in her direction, blatantly, knowing that she was no longer in a state to recognize what he was doing.

"Dragonborn, it is so good to meet with you. It is I, your good friend Mithlas. Come, let us adjourn to the back, away from prying eyes."

To her credit, the beautiful Imperial does her best to fight against his magic. Mithlas is a little impressed, the Thalmor Illusionist having never seen such… a struggle before. Not against him anyways, not after three castings of this spell. So, he casts it a fourth time, and is pleased when those last remnants of resistance fade away and a slow look of contentment spreads across the Dragonborn's face.

"Mithlas… yes…"

Chuckling good naturedly, Mithlas places an arm around the Dragonborn's waist and begins to lead her further into the back of the Embassy. She comes along willingly, and as they go; he runs his hand down from the small of her back to her backside, coping a feel and confirming what he'd already expected… she truly is a tasty treat.

Eventually, they arrive at his personal quarters. Given his position within the Aldmeri Dominion, he was afforded the best accommodations that the Embassy had for his stay here. Which meant these were actually Ambassador Elenwen's quarters, which she'd had to give him when he'd arrived. Did he feel guilty for usurping the Ambassador? Not in the least. He was her superior, and it was important that she remember that, lest she get too big of a head.

What this means, in the end, is that Mithlas has plenty of room for what he intends to do next. The Dragonborn is just too delicious of a treat for him to not… partake in her offerings. As she stands there in the middle of the room, still looking content and glazed over, Mithlas casts his spell yet again, a fifth time, reinforcing the magic seeping into her mind as he gives her an order.

"Strip, Dragonborn."

She doesn't even hesitate, at this point. Her hands go to her likely borrowed dress, the clothes to fine for what reports said she normally wore. As she begins to remove it, however, it's a bit too mechanical for Mithlas' tastes. Humming, he speaks up again.

"Come now, pet. Give me something to work with here. You love me. You love being with me. Act like it."

Like a level being pulled, his words change things dramatically. The bewitched Dragonborn's lips curl up into something of a vacant smile, and she begins to writhe and wiggle a bit more as she stares at him lovingly, stripping out of her dress and undergarments far more seductively. The Thalmor Justiciar can feel himself growing hard within the confines of his pants at this sight. As she exposes herself to him, he has to take a moment to properly admire and appreciate her body. From fullness of her breasts to the trimmed patch of black hair right above her slit… she is definitely appealing, for a human anyways.

Stepping forward, Mithlas reaches out with a gloved hand and runs it through the complacent, pacified Dragonborn's beautiful silken black locks.

"Such beauty, Dragonborn. Perhaps there's something you'd like to confess to me."

She looks at him blankly, clearly too out of it to play this game with him. That won't stop him from forcing the issue though.

"There's a reason you came to the Embassy, my dear. It's because you've realized the truth. That you belong under the control of the Thalmor. That you belong here, with ME. You're so very hot, aren't you? So very lustful. Your appetites are impossible for you to control. You're an insatiable little slut, Dragonborn."

His words do their work, and the Dragonborn is soon red faced and breathing heavier. Her eyes glaze over not just with contentment, but lust now, as she nods her head slowly in time with his statements as they in turn become facts. Smiling, Mithlas watches on as the Dragonborn gives in to the new urges he's implanted inside of her. Naked as she is, insatiable and uncontrollable as her appetites now are, she quickly begins touching herself right in front of him, moaning as one hand plays with a breast and the other sinks down betwixt her thighs to stir up her honeypot.

It's at this point that Mithlas frees his cock from its confines and begins stroking it, but even still, it's not enough.

"Say it. Tell me what you are, Dragonborn."

Moaning throatily, the bewitched Imperial woman speaks up, her voice melodic even as it sounds dreamy and barely conscious.

"I'm… I'm an insatiable little s-slut. I belong here, with you. I belong under the control of the Thalmor."

Mithlas grins wickedly. It's perfect… though even as he watches her touch herself before him, even as he enjoys the sight of her body writhing in place and considers how he wishes to take her… he has to admit, it's missing something. Ah… her new attire. A slave should never be fully naked, after all.

Striding over to Elenwen's wardrobe, the Master Illusionist throws it open and hums as he looks inside. Unfortunately, there's nothing quite like a collar in there for his new pet… but there is something almost as good. Removing the all-white set of incredibly lacy, incredibly lurid lingerie from where it's hanging, Mithlas turns and looks to his naked, masturbating slut of a pet, eyeing her and the lingerie for a moment as he considers what he knows of Elenwen's… proportions.

In the end, he simply shrugs. It would be good enough.

-x-X-x-

"That's right pet. Remember your place, and I will always take care of you."

A little while later, Mithlas stands in the center of the room, completely naked, his strong Altmer physique on full display. Meanwhile, on her knees before him, clad in the Thalmor Ambassador's lewdest set of lingerie (though it doesn't quite contain her considerable assets) is the Bewitched Dragonborn. Her face is permanently caught in a happy blush at this point, and her glazed over eyes look up at him lovingly as her silken gloved hand strokes up and down his hardened shaft.

"Take it in your mouth now, you little whore. Eight Divines knows it's all that mouth of yours is good for."

The Dragonborn obeys, and happily at that, not even registering his insult. But of course not. She knows her place now; she knows where she belongs. As she takes him into her mouth, Mithlas throws his head back and groans in pleasure. The Thalmor Justiciar resists the urge to take her by the head and fuck into her mouth even faster, letting the Dragonborn set her own pace.

He's not disappointed. Eager to please, eager to put her mouth to good use, his pet sucks his cock down to the root, bobbing up and down on his member as her gloved hand eventually leaves the shaft so she can go all the way down to the base, choking and gagging herself in the process.

"Glughk… Glughk… Glughk…"

As she gurgles upon his cock, Mithlas watches her with a wicked smile and narrowed eyes.

"Do not ignore my testicles, my slutty little pet. You must always endeavor to please me in every possible way. Your Master commands it."

Looking up at him with those glazed over eyes, she quickly brings her silk-clad hand up to his balls, fondling and caressing them softly, even as she continues to throat his cock. She really is good at this, for all that her inexperience with sexual matters shows. Chuckling, Mithlas finally stops resisting the urge and reaches out, gathering some of her voluminous black hair up into his fist in a makeshift ponytail.

"You're a natural born cocksucker, pet. This is what you were meant to be, always. My slut, my whore, my toy."

His words still resound within her. He can see the way she processes and accepts them as Truth by the fluttering of her lashes. Moaning wantonly around his cock, she bobs up and down his length even faster, choking herself harder by doing so, but refusing to let up all the same.

"Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!"

Groaning, Mithlas brings his other hand down to join the first. He thrusts forward a few times into her throat, calling out to her.

"That's it, pet! Just like that! Here it comes! Swallow every last bit!"

That's all the warning he gives her. But to her credit, she still manages to swallow most, if not all of his load. What remnants she doesn't quite get down, end up leaking out of the corners of her mouth as her tight little throat convulses with swallow after swallow. As he finishes, Mithlas lets go of her hair and lets her fall back off of his cock, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips.

"Very good, pet. An excellent start…"

-x-X-x-

The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh fill the room, as he takes her on her back on the Ambassador's bed. Standing at the end of said bed, the Thalmor Illusionist has her legs spread wide and in his grip as he fucks into her, groaning at the feel of her gushing wet cunt taking his cock deeply again and again.

"You filthy slut! Who do you belong to?!"

"The Thalmor, I'm an insatiable little slut that belongs to the Thalmor!"

"Who is your Master?!"

"You are! You're my Master! Ah, ah, ah!"

Hearing the Dragonborn debase and degrade herself pleases Mithlas to no end. Where before her voice had had a dreamy, vacant quality to it… now she's getting louder. More vocal. More conscious of what she's saying. This doesn't mean the magic is fading, mind you. Far from it, in fact. The magic has taken ahold fully at this point, and the Dragonborn's mind is his to toy with and play with as he pleases. She's settling in to her new role, her new place in the world as his pet and the Aldmeri Dominion's property.

"Good, bitch. Very good. You may touch yourself as I fuck you."

Moaning, the horny, needy, insatiable Dragonborn happily does so. Her hand, still clad in white silk, goes down between her spread thighs and comes to rest right above her mound, right where his cock is spearing in and out of her juicy cunt. Her finger tips rest on her clit and she eagerly and enthusiastically rubs at it, gasping and moaning and mewling as she does so.

Like this, her entire body is laid out before him. Her face contorted into ecstatic pleasure, her breasts bouncing and jiggling all over the place despite the skimpy white lingerie he has her in. With a growl, Mithlas decides that the lingerie has served it's purpose. Much like he did with her panties, the Thalmor Justiciar reaches down and quite contemptuously tears the lingerie top away from her full, supple tits.

Grabbing one, he gropes and squeezes and mauls it, drawing a cry of pain mixed with the pleasure and euphoria that he's pulling from her. Grinning rather sadistically, the Master Illusionist sneers down at his new slave.

"You like that, don't you pet? You like the pain. You like being used and abused by your Master."

He says it, which makes it true to the Dragonborn. Eyes rolling around in her skull, the dark-haired Imperial beauty moans wantonly and nods her head up and down in agreement with his words, even as the rest of her voluptuous body bounces and jiggles.

"I-I do! I like the pain! Use me, Master! Abuse me!"

That, Mithlas is more than happy to do. Gritting his teeth, growling, he continues to fuck the Dragonborn, thoroughly enjoying degrading and debasing her as he goes. Pistoning his cock in and out of her hungry twat feels absolutely amazing. It's all the more amazing knowing that she's his. There's a reason Mithlas became an Illusionist. In all fairness, Altmer are predisposed to Illusion Magic to begin with. But most races are predisposed to something or other.

Just because Altmer are good at Illusions, doesn't mean that most of them have the patience to go far in that School of Magic. Not like this particular Thalmor Justiciar. From an early age, Mithlas had come to greatly enjoy befuddling others and bending them to his will. He'd found that Illusion Magic, more often than not, would get him what he wanted.

However, it was far too temporary. Luckily, when he'd joined the Justiciars, the sadistic Altmer had found a whole host of kindred spirits. The Third Aldmeri Dominion was steeped in lies. Perhaps this would have turned away a more moralistic individual, but Mithlas, upon realizing this, was left in awe and reverence of just how beautifully they'd turned those lies into their own Truths.

He was made to be a Justiciar, and the Justiciar Order was made for individuals like him. Individuals who understood that certain people, such as this bitch of a Dragonborn, needed to be controlled. Needed to be kept in their place. Who knows what this Imperial cunt might have done, if she were allowed to run around Skyrim continuing to proclaim herself the Dragonborn.

Would she have sided with the Empire of the Stormcloaks in their little Civil War? It didn't really matter which, in the end. Neither side could be allowed to win too strong of a victory. That was why the Thalmor were here, after all, why he'd been called in, in the first place. The Dragonborn assisting the Imperials or the Stormcloaks could have led to the Civil War ending too fast. And then the humans would have had a chance to strengthen themselves further and unite against a different cause… such as the Thalmor themselves.

This was why the Dragonborn could not be allowed to continue roaming free. Of course, turning her into his sex slave and using her body to slake his own lusts… that was all Mithlas. Grinning ferally down at her, grabbing and squeezing her tits with one hand as he holds her by the thigh with the other, fucking her harder and faster, the Master Illusionist can feel his next release approaching. His slutty little cunt of a Dragonborn has already cum multiple times around his cock since they began, but why not once more?

"Here it comes, bitch! Cum for me, you insatiable cunt! Cum for your Master!"

The Dragonborn SHRIEKS, and her pussy walls clench and cling and squeeze down rather violently on Mithlas' pistoning cock. With a loud groan, the Thalmor fills her with his seed, thoroughly milked of his load as he deposits it in her womb. Panting a bit, he looks down at the sweat-covered bitch for a moment before smirking.

"We're not done yet, cunt…"

To punctuate this point, he reaches down and pulls a stamina potion from his belt. Most of the potions he carries with him are magicka… but you never know when you'll need an extra boost of endurance. Downing the stamina potion, the Thalmor Illusionist feels his second wind coming to him, his cock already twitching back to life inside of his new pet's cunt.

"In fact… we're just getting started."

-x-X-x-

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

The sound of flesh smacking against flesh is MUCH louder now, as Mithlas takes the Dragonborn from behind. Both of them are kneeling on the bed now, with him pulling one arm behind her back and holding her by her hair with the other. This leaves her back arched and her voice echoing through the chamber as she squeals and creams herself on his cock again and again.

"Worthless! Fucking! WHORE!"

"Yes, Master! Yes, yes, yes!"

"You're nothing! Nothing but my toy!"

"A-Ah, I'm your toy, Master!"

The sadistic grin is back on his face, as he pulls on the Dragonborn's hair, having fisted a whole bunch of her voluminous locks into a makeshift ponytail. The magic has fully set in now. Short of an intervention from something beyond him, of which there are very few, the Dragonborn is now his. No normal dispelling will work to remove his magic from her mind. Because it's not just in her mind anymore. By this point, it's seeped right into the depths of her draconic soul.

Heh, perhaps this will earn him a place in the Aldmeri Dominion's histories. The Mer who tamed a Dragon… even if she's not truly a dragon. Regardless, Mithlas doesn't let up. This is wholly about his pleasure now, about asserting his dominion over this horny little cunt before him. Of course, he was the one to turn her into a horny little cunt… but that made it all the more appealing.

He couldn't even say what she'd been like before he'd gotten his hands on her. The reports called her reckless, rebellious, and adventurous. Apparently, as she'd been before, she hadn't been likely to put herself under the control of any group or any one person. She'd worked with the Jarl of Whiterun, but not under him, leaving the city behind at some point to answer the calls of the Greybeards.

Every anecdote that the Thalmor had managed to collect about the Dragonborn made it clear that she was the type to wander around, solving problems her own way even where she wasn't wanted. A reckless malcontent who would have likely damaged their work here in Skyrim if she was allowed to roam unchecked.

Well, no more. Now she was his. No trace of the old Dragonborn remained. The bitch that he was even now bending to his will, forcing her to arch her spine and letting her melodic cries wash over him… she was all his. The magic was settled deep into her mind and soul at this point, and the only Master she would answer to was now him. Of course, she would also answer to the Thalmor because he'd ordered it. But first and foremost, he was in charge of her.

He was to be the Dragonborn's handler from here on out. That had always been the plan, but to be fair, the description hadn't done her beauty justice. He'd always intended to make their relationship sexual when he found out she was a woman… human women always submitted easier to his magic when he turned it into a game of sex and sweat-laden bodies.

But there was no denying it, the Dragonborn was the most beautiful woman he'd ever had the pleasure of laying with. And now… now she was all his.

With a grunt, Mithlas releases his hold on her hair and arm, letting her fall forward onto the bed. Face down, ass up, she moans into the bedding below her as he takes hold of her by the hips and begins to truly lean into it, mounting her and fucking her even deeper than before. The tip of his cock slams against her cervix, the entrance to her womb buckling under this new, even rougher assault.

"Take it! Take my cock you bitch! Submit to your Master!"

The Dragonborn just mewls, seemingly having lost the ability to speak. Looking down at her, he can see from the way her head is turned on her side that the visible eye is rolled back in her head. The other one is probably the same way. Her tongue, likewise, is lolled out of her mouth. She's drooling on the bed as he fucks her, as he bends her, as he BREAKS her on his cock.

To be fair, she hadn't had a stamina potion like he had. It's no wonder his new slave is all tuckered out. With a savage grin, he thrusts forward one final time and empties his balls inside of her cunt yet again, filling her womb directly this time around, and leaving her with another creampie delivered by a male of the superior Mer.

In response, the Dragonborn continues to mewl, clearly completely out of it and utterly insensate. Letting out a sigh, Mithlas reaches down and takes another stamina potion from his belt. It's the last one he carries on him, in fact, not really needing more than two at any given time. For a moment, he's about to bring it to the Dragonborn's lips… but then an even more perverse thought comes to him.

Slotting the open neck of the bottle into the Dragonborn's upturned ass, the Thalmor Justiciar pushes, drawing a keening noise from his pet as he upends the contents of the potion right into her bowels. It wasn't exactly information you'd hear about in polite company, but he remembered someone mentioning it in a bar once, well after they'd gotten drunk. Apparently, it was entirely possible to imbibe both alcohol and potions via one's ass. He'd always wanted to test it on a woman… why not on his newest slave, right?

With a jolt, the Dragonborn comes back to life. She lifts her head up and looks back at him, only to immediately spin around so that she can take his messy cock into her mouth. Kneeling there on all fours like the bitch she is, she mewls and moans as she rapidly cleans up his dick, her loving hazel eyes never once leaving his face the entire time.

Smirking, Mithlas runs his hand through her hair, enjoying the feel of her lush voluminous locks under his fingers.

"You've done well, pet. Well enough that I've decided to reward you. From now on, you will remain in my personal service. You will be whatever I wish of you. You will fulfill whatever role I task you with, be it pleasure slave, bodyguard, or spy. Do you understand, cunt?"

The Dragonborn comes off of his cock almost reluctantly, slowly sliding back until it pops out from between her pillowy lips.

"Yes, Master~"

Smirking, Mithlas gathers up her hair again and begins to slide her down his cock more insistently. Just as they're both getting into the swing of things once more, him thrusting into her throat and her choking and gagging like a good little slut… there's an interruption in the form of a certain Ambassador. Elenwen steps into the room and freezes on the spot, words on her lips that never finish forming as she stares, wide-eyed at the sight.

"Justiciar Mithlas, I-!"

He doesn't stop what he's doing. Neither does the Dragonborn, good little slut that she is. Pecking order and all that. Instead, Mithlas looks over at the Thalmor Ambassador almost blandly, one eyebrow raised that could either be a challenge, or a request for her to get on with it. Flushing hotly in embarrassment, his fellow Altmer ultimately averts her gaze, neither commenting on the compromising position she's found the two of them in, nor on the destroyed remnants of her most prized lingerie.

"Justiciar… have you been able to discern anything about the Dragonborn's p-purpose here in the Embassy?"

He considers teasing Elenwen over her stammer very briefly, before eventually deciding to ignore it. Still, as much as he hates to admit it, the First Emissary has a point. Drawing his new pet off of his cock, he lifts her head up by his grip on her hair.

"Pet. You will tell us everything you know and everything you've been up to since discovering you were the Dragonborn. Starting with why and how you infiltrated our Embassy."

"Yes, Master."

As the Dragonborn begins to explain, Mithlas has to stop her and have her backtrack more than once. It turns out, her trip to the Thalmor Embassy was only the tip of the iceberg. Judging by the look on Elenwen's face, she's just as amazed as he is at some of the things the Dragonborn tells them. Though of course, Mithlas does a better job of hiding HIS reaction.

Though he has to admit, his cock does jump a little at the thought of one of the last living Blades being a woman. This… Delphine. She would make for a fine addiction to his burgeoning collection. A Breton to go along with his Imperial pet. A Blade to go along with his Dragonborn. Yes… he would be sure to assist Elenwen in the delicate operations to come. Judging by the out of her depth expression on the First Emissary's face, she really needed all the help she could get.

-x-X-x-

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