Estrus Mage

The province of Cyrodiil was no stranger to odd cults and religions, but perhaps the most curious were the Estrus Mages. A group governed by the principle of sexual magicka, an art that was considered too taboo and vile for even the most open minded of mage, they were banished from the guilds for being a “danger to civilization.” Perhaps they were; for their magicka could bring disaster to the bloodlines of the empire.

For to be an Estrus Mage allowed one to control sexual desire, to manipulate the body and summon foul beings to do their sexual bidding. While no actual cases had ever been recorded, the fear of the damage one Estrus Mage could do to the Imperial Line was enough to bring about their demise. Every soldier, every mercenary looking to make some coin hunted them relentlessly, every rumor was followed up by a swift execution.

A century later, they were thought to all be dead, the Mage Guilds and the now Third Empire slowly forgot all about their very existence. Sexual magicka vanished from the land, for even if the Estrus Mages vanished and were forgotten, the fear was not; their brand of study was made illegal by order of the Emperor himself, punishable by death of not just the practitioner, but also their entire family.

However, with the death of not only Uriel Septim VII, but also his heirs, and the invasion of Oblivion, Cyrodiil became an unstable land. While none would admit it, the power and influence of the law waned, the legions were spread thin… a perfect time for the revival of an order that carried with it the death sentence of an entire bloodline. Like the Thieves Guild, the Estrus Mages had managed to survive; like the Dark Brotherhood, they dug down, below the surface of Cyrodiil. Their arts were practiced in secret, shrouded from the eyes of all by powerful, arcane magicka to protect their already dwindling numbers.

Just as Oblivion stormed the land of Cyrodiil, the Estrus Mages emerged from their seclusion, seeking what even the people themselves sought in these troubles times; survival.

The place, Imperial City, an unimaginative name for the capital city of a bloated, dying empire. The streets were still manned by guards, the people seemingly unconcerned by the threat that Oblivion posed. Perhaps they were putting on a brave front, or maybe in its desperation after the death of their leader, the Third Empire itself was in public denial.

The Elven Gardens District bustled with activity; as a central hub for residents and the construction of the city, many had to pass through during their daily activities. It was here that an Estrus Mage, a person who only a century ago would be the most feared man in all the city, appeared. But with time and the state of Cyrodiil, the guard became lax, patrolling only to look for pickpockets and thieves. His robes were simple and common; black with gold trim. Like any good member of a secret order, his face was covered, the hood of the robe was enchanted with powerful magicka to conceal it from all who would try to get a look. To all who looked upon him, he was but another mage going about business. And in essence, that’s what the Estrus Mage was doing.

Cyronin Sintav’s home was the target. The Sintav clan was small, much like his own order. Perhaps it was fate; the first step on rebuilding the glory of the order was to make use of a clan whose numbers were stunted and could not grow. For Cyronin, he was infertile, a fact that was slowly becoming all too apparent to his lovely wife, Carmana. Her time in life was coming, the desire for a child was strong; the need for one was all too powerful in the clan. But poor Cyronin could not deliver… and they were in denial, just like the Third Empire. And so, the Estrus Mage had come; he was going to give them what they wanted in his own, special way.

Upon touching the handle and entering the home, a spell was cast upon the door; one that would not allow it to be opened by any other than the Estrus Mage. What greeted him was what remained of a spacious room, now dominated by a large table and chairs, adorned with the common trappings of a dining room. And upon a chair was Cyronin, clad in a green flax tunic and black short pants, who looked up from his meal.

“Can I help you?”

Cyronin questioned the black and gold clad mage, but received no answer, much less a look in return. Rather, the mage looked to the stairs as Carmana descended, ready for the day at hand. She was a beautiful woman, her face as lovely as her body was voluptuous; her ample body was barely contained in her simple white dress with a a quilted doublet covering her bountiful chest.

Upon seeing her, the Estrus Mage felt a stirring in his loins; the day he had been training for was at hand…

“Oh, do we have a guest?”

Carmana asked as she stood at the base of the stairs, looking at the mage. Cyronin, however, rose to his feet and turned to his wife, his voice flaring to life with annoyance;

“No, just a rude fellow who won’t answer you when you pose him a question!”

Turning to the mage, Cyronin silently flashed a scowl and pointed to the door, wasting not another word on one who would not answer. The Mage, he simply turned his head toward the angry Sintav and stretched out his arm. With a mutter and a simple hand gesture, an arcane symbol appeared on the floor below Corynin; before he had a chance to even react, a series of tentacles erupted from realms unknown, twisting around his limbs and lifting him into the air. Carmana gasped in shock as she looked at her husband as he writhed, trying to get free from their grasp.

Before he could say anything, a tentacle lodged itself into Cyronin’s mouth, and as Carmana turned to the Estrus Mage, something came over her. A powerful urge welled up within her… she closed the distance between the two of them, then looped her arms around his neck, leaning toward his shrouded face. Deeply she kissed him and he in return, her tongue wiggling into his already parted and expecting lips. The Mage’s hands grabbed hold of her bountiful ass cheeks, squeezing them roughly, causing her to moan in pleasure as her enormous breasts were crushed against his chest as she deepened her already impassioned show of affection.

Cyronin looked on in horror as his lovely, fully figured wife embraced and was fondled by another man. For what seemed like hours the two were wrapped up in their passionate lock, but then the Estrus Mage pulled his head away from Carmana, causing her to whimper in sorrow. But the Mage, he lowered his head and whispered in her ear;

“You desire a taste of my phallus, do you not? Come, I shall let you have all that you wish.”

Carmana moaned at the though and nodded, her arms leaving him. The Estrus Mage released her ass, only to grab hold of a chair and dragged it before Cryonin, positioning it so the bound man would have an excellent view of what was to come. Sitting, Carmana strutted up to the Mage, hips wiggling, ample breasts swaying; she was so sensual in her approach. The Mage ran a hand down the crotch of his robe, instantly causing a seam to open, allowing his erect penis to spring forth. As Carmana dropped to her knees, she gasped in amazement at its size; a full seven inches in length, and nearly two inches in width.

She licked her lips before leaning forward, her now moistened pinkness touching the shaft softly. She kissed it up and down, from his balls to the head, then parted her lips and drove down, engulfing him in her wet heat. He groaned and she in turn moaned, the thickness vanished inch by inch down her hungry throat before she could take no more. Cyronin was horrified beyond all hope; the tentacles wrapped around his head to ensure he could not look away, they even spawned smaller ones to hold his eyes open, to get a grand view of his wife fellating another man with unbridled lust and vigor, making the pros down at the Imperial Waterfront look like untouched virgins by comparison.

The Estrus Mage placed a hand on Carmana’s head and grabbed hold of her hair, breaking the seal of her lips as he pulled her away from him. Looking up at him, her eyes filled with a wanton lust and desire to continue. But the Mage, he had other plans as he grabbed hold of the collar of her dress. With a swift motion, he tore the top open, causing her enormous breasts to spill out, freeing them from their prison of cloth.

They were truly massive, an Imperial Standard K cup; larger than her own head. Instinctively, Carmana wrapped them around his penis, making it vanish into her vast valley of cleavage before moving her great mountains upon his shaft, her saliva and his pre-cum making her skin slick. She mewled as the head poked out from time to time, her tongue lapping at it. She could swear, as the moments passed, that his penis was growing larger; for every time the head emerged, it came up a little further, her tongue felt a little more width to it.

“Your breasts are truly amazing, my lady. Truly marvelous; never have I seen their equal in all my years.”

The Estrus Mage spoke with praise, causing her to squeal in delight. Looking up, Carmana had praise of her own to give;

“Sir mage, your penis is also amazing; it almost seems to be growing ever larger between my breasts!”

“Ah, but it is, my lady. As you please it, it will grow in length and width; that way, I will be able to please you even more when I impale you upon it.”

Carmana trembled at the mere thought of it being inside of her, then turned her attention back to his penis; it had grow ever larger, enough for the head to stand proudly above her great valley. She took it into her mouth, tongue lapping at his pre-cum up like a cat would milk from a saucer, mewling happily as she savored the flavor of another man’s fluids. And poor Cyronin, he could only watch his gorgeous wife pleasure a stranger, his penis having grown quite large despite himself. It tented his pants, aching to be freed and taken care of, but alas, no such thing could happen. For all he could do was watch as Caramana worshipped a phallus that was so much larger than anything he could give to her.

The sucking, the slurping, the rubbing of her breasts… it was all enough to make any man orgasm, and yet the Estrus Mage, he showed no signs of releasing himself. Rather, true to his words, the phallus Carmana put so much effort into pleasing was growing by inches, until it measured nearly a foot in length and six inches in width. It grew so large that Carmana, despite her efforts, could go longer take it into her mouth; that was when the Mage spoke.

“My lady… it’s time.”

Carmana looked up at him, lust burning in her eyes as she nodded and stood up. The Mage followed suit, standing before the once decent, now wanton woman, her hands resisting the urge to grab his phallus to feel its heat on her skin. Suddenly, he placed his hands upon her dress once more, then tore it from her body fully, causing Carmana to gasp in shock. Cyronin groaned despite his gag, his penis aching ever more upon seeing the fluids run down her thighs. Casting her dress aside, the Estrus Mage turned the woman around, her large, ripe ass facing his phallus.

Pressing it against her, she trembled as he bent her over the table that dominated the room, her enormous breasts being crushed against the hard wood, hard nipples firing off senses of pleasure as they rubbed against her while her body squirmed. Her wet, trembling vaginal lips were slowly parted as the phallus of the Mage began to bury itself into Carmana, whom could only find the strength to let out a soft mewling as the Mage found his way inside of what was once the domain of her husband. Her inner walls stretched, trying desperately to accept the invader, her finger nails lodging themselves into the wood of the table below her as inch upon inch sank further in. It was not until what felt like an eternity that the Mage finally reached the limits of his member, finding himself truly ‘balls deep’, to use a crude euphemism; for indeed, her testes came to rest upon her thighs as the whole of his phallus was firmly in place inside of the now practically drooling woman.

Carmana had never found herself so full before; the head of the Mage’s phallus pressed against her cervix, the width threatened to rip her in half. Her tongue found itself out of her mouth, her eyes rolled back into her head, she looked like she had been struck by a sudden stupidity… and perhaps she had been. All reason seemed to fall away and the only thing she had left was the singular desire to have relations with this strange man and his immense source of animalistic pleasure.

His hands grabbed hold of her ample buttocks, fingers sinking deep into her flesh as the Mage began to move his body. No matter how tightly her flesh clung to it, his phallus seemed to pull away so easily, only to plunge back into her depths a moments later; to Carmana, it felt almost like he had never left her body, yet at the same time the sheer pleasure of constantly being penetrated assaulted her senses. She could only open her mouth in a silent scream as her muscles went into spasms, her entire lower body shivered at the vicious assault from both outside and within.

Her fluids gushed from around the invader as Carmana was hit with the single most intense orgasm of her entire life; she was literally lost in a sea of carnal pleasure, deeper than any she could have ever felt with her poor husband. The Mage simply continued his brutal assault, unnaturally increasing his thrusting speed; the wet, sloshing sounds of their sexual organs moving became one long, unbroken testament to this fact.

Poor Cyronin was convinced the man was a demon; no normal person could ever move the way the Mage did. Yet he could do nothing but watch as his wife was seemingly locked in an eternal orgasm, the fluids that gushed from her would not stop as they poured down her legs. A small puddle formed below the two; the floor boards could not soak them up any further. Indeed, he almost feared that she might die from dehydration if this continued. But his own pain slowly took away any concerns he might have felt; the raging stiffness in his pants felt horrific, as though the skin would split open if no relief were to come soon.

Another tentacle emerged from the magical symbol and latched onto the foot of the poor man before invading his pants through a leg opening. To the shock and revulsion of Cyronin, this tentacle wrapped itself around his solid member; that revulsion turned to horror as it tightened. Closing his eyes, the bound man expected it to crush his, by comparison to the demon that was ravishing his wife, crude and small phallus, yet the tentacle began to pulsate, giving him a pleasure that was simply not of Nirn.

Despite being locked within the grip of orgasmic bliss, Carmana found herself able to think rationally; when the world came back into focus the Mage was above her. She lay upon the table as the Mage continued his most vicious sexual assault, her impressive breasts bounced with a weight that threatened to cause grievous physical harm. Her legs had wrapped themselves around his waist through instinct.

“My lady, it is time for this to come to an end.”

The Mage spoke to her softly, to which she began to protest. Yet even as her mouth opened, Carmana found her voice lacking; indeed, no matter how she try she could not produce a single sound. The Mage, taking advantage of this quickly placed a finger into her agape mouth, the tip running along her tongue. Just as quickly the finger left, the hand it belonged to moved to her stomach. Upon it, right above her uterus, the strange man traced a circle, and within it he moved his other hand, tracing some manner of curious, arcane symbols.

“With this, my lady, you shall have that which you desire most; a child!”

As the Mage spoke, Carmana felt a sudden warm well up from within her; it was then that she noticed the man had ceased his assault upon her lower body. The warmth spread through her lower regions, filling her stomach and abdomen. In awe, Carmana could see the circle and arcane symbols traced upon her flesh glow; she realized that the Mage had just reached orgasm, that his sperm was flooding her insides. A different form of bliss overcame the woman as the warmth filled her entire form; her eyes rolled back in her head as she lost consciousness. Cyronin, in spite of knowing all too well that another man may have just impregnated his beloved wife found himself too lost in his own pleasure.

The tentacle wrapped around his member pulsated and squeezed him in a way that was beyond any pleasure he could have ever known prior to that moment. No matter how much it sickened him, he knew that it would make him reach orgasm as well. Closing his eyes, Cyronin felt the sweet, yet bitter feeling of release as the warmth of his seed spilled into his pants, running down the tentacle that had its way with him.

Cyronin, like his wife, became lost to the world as he slipped from consciousness, still bound in the embrace of other realm tentacles. The Mage released himself from the grip of Carmana’s legs, his phallus, now limp quickly slit from her defiled entrance. With a sigh, the Mage motioned once more with his hands, the tentacles retreated from whence they came, leaving Cyronin to slump upon the floor. The Mage turned, robe closing around his deflated member as he moved to the door, the binding spell dissolving as he passed through, emerging once more into the Imperial City.

With a heavy heart, the Mage walked away from the Sintav home; the husband and wife would not have any memory of what had just transpired. Carmana Sintav would, in time find herself with child, and Cyronin would be congratulated for finally being able to produce a new clan member. They would be blessed with a strong, healthy baby with a talent for the magical arts.

The child would grow into a fine wizard, perhaps one day finding their way back to the order that birthed them. For the Sintav clan it would be a miracle. For him it was a curse, for he may possibly never know his own child.

But this… was only the first…