Pony in Tamriel

by asofo

Rating: mature
Tags: Self Insert, Crossover, Sex, Slice of Life, The Elder Scrolls, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Original Character, Porn
Length: 7000

Getting used to your new body in skyrim.

After an unlucky fall you wake up in skyrim. No longer a human but instead having become a pony.

Accepting your new reality you try to make the best of it.

tags: vaginal, creampie, public nudity, public humiliation, public sex, bestiality, pony/dog, pony/wood elf, reader, self-insert

Published 2024-01-04 00:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2024-01-04 00:10:00 UTC

Riverwood

In a rush to make it to a college lecture, to which you are 10 minutes late already, you completely fail to notice a thin patch of ice. Both feet losing any semblance of grip with the ground, quickly followed by your whole body obeying gravity as it falls backwards in a comedic fashion. Immediately losing consciousness upon impact.

…

Before you even open your eyes the fresh smell of pine trees and sounds of running water, creaking bark, flood your senses. Eyelids feeling heavier than you're used to as you slowly push them upwards. You see the world sideways, a patch of thick trees rooted in front of a mountain side and a dirt coated cobblestone road that you are currently lying on, before you can scan your surroundings any further you notice your weird, disfigured nose.

You swear it wasn’t light orange before, still dizzy and now in a slight panic you try to get up, instinctively reaching for your nose with your hand when reality hits you like a truck. Your ‘’hand’’ now is a light orange haired hoof, with a shallow heart shaped hoof print. Heart racing as feeling returns to the rest of your new body and you begin the struggle of getting up.

Suspicions swiftly confirmed as you examine what you can of your pony form, no thumbs, pretty much nonexistent fine motor skills on account of having no toes or hands. Looking on the bright side at least you’ll be able to go fast with your quadrupedal anatomy.

A blonde and messy mane growing atop your head going down and along the back of your neck. Short, light orange hair covers just about the entirety of your pony physique. Left side of your torso is marginally dirt covered on account of lying on the cobblestone road, physically unable to clean it off yourself. On your left flank through the dirt you can see some kind of swirly purple mark. Height wise you estimate yourself to be about 4’0 feet tall, significantly shorter than before.

Barely able to tilt your head low enough to get a look at your underside, you don’t see a sheath or balls, scarcely discerning two pink crotch teats on your lower torso positioned between your two back legs. You don’t need to see your haunch to feel what's there as the brisk forest wind flows over your exposed mare-pussy and circular rectum directly above it, sending a shiver through you.

Lastly a long, similarly blonde, unkempt tail sprouting directly above your anus, drooping downwards. Seemingly unable to control it, you're still thankful that it’s there as it’s the only thing at least somewhat obscuring your genitals from passersby. Length wise it touches the ground, which surely will end up annoying you as it gradually gets dirtier and dirtier.

“H-hello, one, two, three…” you mumble to test out your new vocal cords, so far your voice being the only thing similar to your old human body. Steadily collecting yourself while you pace around in a circle with the occasional stumble as you get used to your new transportation method, the small rocks feel strangely nice under your hooves. The fact that you're creating the exact same noises as a horse you’ve seen walking along roads makes you feel all tingly inside.

Gradually accepting your new body since it all is way too real to just be some delusion or dream. With a deep breath you stop focusing on yourself and begin looking outwards, examining your surroundings.

You're on a cobblestone road winding through a sparsely wooded forest, it feels strangely familiar. Behind you, south, is a massive, snowy mountain ridge obscuring everything that might be beyond it, as well as a thick plume of black smoke rising into the sky.

Swiveling your head around to the north, you hear running water, visually the forest begins to flow downwards, in the distance there's a large snowy mountain, once you notice the tomb embedded into its left side is when the realization hits you. You’re in skyrim, more precisely in between helgen and riverwood. Scanning your surroundings with this in mind and you immediately begin to see the more minute similarities in flora placement and the rare rock that for some reason stuck in your mind.

It’s surreal seeing all the ancient skyrim textures be replaced by actual real soil and fauna.

You attempt to bring out your inventory or skill menu by thinking real hard, followed by waving one of your arm hooves around. Neither option is successful, you just end up looking like an alien creature trying to do some weird ritual. Naked, without any gold and the conveniences you’d get when playing skyrim you quickly start to panic again.

But a glimmer of hope presents itself as you muse that it's possible quests and their associated npc’s remain the same too. Riverwood is nearby so that should provide a good starting point. Also now that you're thinking about similarities, the mark on your left flank looks oddly like a conjuration spell. Maybe you have some sort of proficiency with that school of magic?

You begin slowly clopping along the road. If your memory is correct then the only enemies you’ll encounter on your way there, if following the cobble road, will be a group of two or three wolves that appear and rush you from the forest. Your new form should let you easily outrun them to riverwood which they shouldn't follow you into.

The first landmark you run into are the guardian stones, there’s no pop up about you getting experience or discovering the location once you step up and on the large flat rock housing the three stones. You’ve already decided on the mage stone, not like you can use swords or a bow without hands anyway. The large vines zigzagging across the stone almost trip you up as you move closer to the mage stone.

The reality of no hands gets more annoying by the minute, you attempt to activate the stone by just touching it with one of your front hooves but nothing happens. Not really having many other body parts left you try touching it with your muzzle, pushing your nose up against the mossy smelling rock.

As you do, a low rumble emanates deep within the stone followed by a constellation illuminating on its surface, it looks vaguely like something you’ve seen when playing the game. Lastly, the little hole at top of the oval-ish stone gains a shimmering blue glow, becoming opaque.

You don’t feel any different, but then again it’s unlikely that you’d notice some sort of experience boost for magic that you don’t even have or know if you can use in the first place.

Mage standing stone now active, you mentally prepare yourself to run from the pack of wolves. Doing a quick practice gallop as all four of your new pony feet lift off the ground causing your body to rush forwards, the wind blowing your mane and tail backwards. It feels great, like something you’ve been doing for years, hooves moving in an entirely instinctual way.

Gradually coming to a stop, you don’t feel even slight exhaustion, in stark contrast to your physical fitness as a human. As if your body was entirely designed for running. Now certain that you can flee from combat you begin to trot forward, keeping your head on a swivel.

Passing by the short dirt path leading to a cave bandit camp, even with conjuration spells that seems like something that wouldn’t be worth the risk.

A couple seconds later you hear the distinct skyrim wolf howl and immediately bolt. Only catching the faintest snarl coming out of the woods to your right before you leave them in the dust, soon seeing the large stone palisade wall that you doubt can protect riverwood from anything but it still provides some relief as you rush through it.

Letting out a deep sigh of relief as you look back and don’t see the wolves. Now in relative safety you begin scanning over the small nord town. Everything is just like in the game, Alvor is hammering away in the smithy next to his house, doesn’t look like he has noticed you.

Right next to the town entrance there’s sven and hilda’s house, you glance over hilda using the tanning rack on the porch, just like you’ve seen her do countless times before. Before you can begin enacting the plan you’ve hatched a loud scream rings out.

“Monster!” yells hilda, boney finger pointed at you.

“N-no, I’m just a traveler, I mean no harm!” you attempt to calm her down “I’m unarmed, please!” vocal cords still kind of rusty.

With a half angry, half fearful expression she stares you down. Slowly lowering her raised hand while the other is almost digging into the wooden log serving as a guard rail in front of their house. The hammering stops “Calm yourself Hilda.” Alvor steps out into the road, looking at both of you. “You're scaring the young ones” he says while walking up to you, dusting off his large, calloused hands. Wearing a worn blacksmith's apron. He completely towers over you 6 '5 feet tall at minimum. You stumble backwards as he gets close, scared “I-i mean no harm, just looking for somewhere to stay…”

“Well…Delphine likely has some spare hay she can give you” he says as he looks you over. “As for lodging I doubt she’d let you stay in one of her rooms, especially without any gold.”

“That sounds fine” you mumble, fidgeting, hoping they leave you be.

“You a pony of some kind?” he crouches down to be more in line with your height. “Never seen a pony that talks, especially with odd colored hair like that…” his eyes examine your torso, lingering on the purple mark on your flank. “Is that a brand?” he reaches his hand out to touch you.

“Y-yes, a pony” he brushes your side with his calloused hand, it feels nice “As for the mark, i’m not sure…” you stutter, unconsciously leaning into his touch.

He unceremoniously stands up and looks at the old woman “You really think she’s a monster?” her tired expression relaxes as she makes eye contact with him. “A horse is more dangerous but you don’t scream at those…” he mumbles before heading back to the forge and continuing his work.

Relieved, you turn directly left and cross the elevated wood walkway leading over the river. The man working the large water-wheel powered saw glances at you briefly before shaking his head and pulling another log onto the saw. Finally seeing your target chopping wood next to the mill.

“H-hello, I heard about your love triangle issues with sven.” announcing yourself and attempting to start the quest in one sentence. The wood elf lowers his axe followed by wiping the sweat off his brow, a sizable pile of split logs already next to the chopping station. He turns around to greet you before his eyes go wide in surprise. “Ah, yes of course creature of the wild.”

Letting the iron axe fall, he bows his head. His long ears twitch before he takes a knee, not making eye contact. “Blessed be lus, for sending one of his faithful to assist me!” He exclaims, tainting his farm pants with the mud he’s been working in this whole time. You have no clue who lus is, never having been particularly interested in elder scrolls lore.

“P-please stand, I just wish to assist you.” trying to sound confident, the elf nods before getting to his feet. You start to have doubts about picking the wood elf, you had assumed he'd be more tolerant due to his closer ties to nature but being considered as some god's apostle might cause unnecessary problems in the long run.

“Of course I wouldn’t dare delay you. Here, take this letter to Camilla and tell her it was from Sven.” he swiftly reaches into his farm clothes, pulling out a letter from inside and extending it out toward you with a deep bow. You decide to go ahead and stick with the wood elf. Being worshiped is better than the disdain and distrust you'd most likely get from the nord sutor. Plus his bow skills are a lot more useful in combat compared to a bard without a real combat class.

Getting flustered as you once again remember your lack of hands, you eye the corner of the letter before carefully biting it. He lets you pull the letter from his grasp “Praise lus!” staying in a deep bow even after you have taken the letter from him. The hard paper material feels sturdier than what you're used to. Swiftly turning around and heading over to the general store, holding the letter by the corner, with your teeth.

Passing by Hilda’s house, she throws a stern look in your direction as you pass, again turning back to work on the tanning rack. Stopping in front of the riverwood trader building you look over the door, it seems to have a primitive handle that you have little chance of interacting with.

You attempt to push on the door with one of your front hooves but it doesn’t budge. You hear a snicker, glancing in its direction you see two kids, the boy is peeking his head past the edge of the trader building, grinning. The other is a girl of similar age standing out in the open confidently next to him, examining the odd creature before her.

“You need to push the handle down” she says without a hint of malice in her tone. “Stupid horse!” the boy yells followed by snickering again, she punches his shoulder and walks up to you. “See?” She pulls the handle down, pushing the door slightly open before closing it. You attempt to mimic not being able to reach the handle as you reach for it with one of your hooves with a disappointed look on your muzzle.

“Can’t reach it huh…” she says before examining you, lingering on the letter you're biting. You shake your head up and down in affirmation. “Hmm, how about I open the door for you and in return you answer any of our questions after?” she looks at your pony face for a response. Even though you think you’ll end up regretting it, you’d rather answer questions than try and get someone else to help so you nod, agreeing to the deal.

She smiles and opens the door, you swiftly head into the riverwood trader building. The warmth from the roaring fireplace opposite of the entrance immediately envelops you. Camilla and Lucan are about to begin their scripted dialogue about the stolen gold claw before they see your unusual appearance and freeze.

Camilla, an imperial, wearing a belted tunic highlighting her large breasts almost bumps into the cooking pot in front of the fireplace as she stumbles backwards. Meanwhile Lucan, another imperial, wearing basic lower class clothes, a large belt around his waist, reaches for something underneath the shop counter, his eyes locked to you.

You don’t make any sudden moves, attempting to gesture to the letter in your mouth by shaking your head, looking at Camilla.

She slowly moves closer, before bending down and carefully taking the letter.

Freed from your vocal prison “Sven told me to deliver his letter” you tell her, fidgeting on the creaky wood floor. Both of the traders are visibly relaxing as Camilla opens the letter, Lucan raises his lowered hand back onto the counter. “I see…” she sighs, a disappointed expression paints her face as she reads the letter.

“Thank you for delivering the letter to me, If I had known Sven was like this I wouldn’t have ever gotten involved with him.” she says before tearing up the letter and throwing the pieces into the fire.

Mission complete you turn to leave the trading before being met with another impossible obstacle, a door handle. “Could you open the door for me…”

“Of course” she approaches the door, taller than you just like everyone else you’ve met so far. Letting you out without another word. The brisk air is refreshing, but the peace doesn’t last long. The two kids are standing a couple meters away from the entrance, this time with a large scruffy dog in tow.

The dog immediately bounds and begins circling you, sniffing the never before seen creature. Simultaneously the boy chases after it, both now running circles around you. The girl sighs “Sorry about them, we rarely get any travelers. My name is Dorthe, the annoying one is Frodnar and the dog is Stump.”

Attempting to focus on the girl, putting the two others out of mind. “Im Shell” you just go with the name you default to in games. Completely unfitting for the elder scrolls universe. “That’s a weird name…where are you from?”

You spit out the first and only thing that comes to mind. “I’m from far away, the black marsh. Do you know where that is?” Hoping she doesn’t since you know almost nothing about it. “Mmmm, not really. Mom says argonians come from the marsh.” a puzzled look on her face.

“They do, that’s right. It’s a swampy, warm place.” you give her the shallow depths of your knowledge on the argonian homeland.

She's deep in thought, trying to come up with what to ask next as the other kid yells “Why are you naked?” His exclamation completely catches you off guard. “U-uhm, horses don’t wear clothes” stuttering out an embarrassed response as a shudder permeates through you, the unclothed state of your crotch teats and mare-pussy makes you grow warm.

You see that they have expanded their circle, now running around both you and the girl. The dog’s tongue is lolled out as it chases after the boy, glimpsing a furred set of balls between his legs you unconsciously switch to he. “Yeah but horses don’t talk!” he doesn’t let up, yelling between gasps for air as he comes to a stop, tired.

“W-well I’m a pony” dodging the question, right as you try to change the subject the girl comes up with a question “Where are you heading? There’s dragons about, so it isn't very safe to travel.”

Relieved that the topic has shifted from your nude form “Solitude is the goal, probably will stop and rest in whiterun. I should be alright. These hooves can go pretty fast, no dragon will catch me.” you attempt to lighten the mood, seems like people know of dragons returning but there are no whiterun guards in riverwood. Maybe you could progress the main quest and get the reward by telling the jarl about helgen.

Determining where you actually want to go and how you could be the most comfortable while making the journey, you entirely zone out and fail to notice the large dog lift his snout, sniffing the air before he slowly makes his way to your haunch.

“Dad says it's best to stay inside…” she says with a worried tone, looking over her shoulder at her family home.

“Tha-” your voice interrupted as Stump pushes his warm snout up against your mare pussy, doing your best to stifle a moan elicited by him licking it. Now able to feel just how wet you are, the amount of girl-cum only begins to grow when that single lick quickly turns into lapping as he begins assaulting your clit.

Body naturally engorging it in response to the pleasure as it becomes harder and harder to contain yourself, legs shaking. With hoarse breaths you attempt to say something but before you can the lapping stops and in one swift motion the dog mounts you. Easily sheathing his canine cock into your wanting pussy. Furred belly pressing against your back while he positions his panting muzzle next to your similarly gasping maw.

“Stupid stump! You can’t mate with a horse!” the boy laughs, staring, while the girl covers her eyes, cheeks flushed.

Meanwhile you are completely unfocused on the world around you, mind going blank due to the overwhelming pleasure. You feel it grow, clearly the mutt only sheathed himself inside you while half hard. There’s no pain, just growing arousal as your mare-pussy greedily envelops the hot, tapered shaft.

With only a second or two of total downtime while the panting dog gets used to your insides, legs twitching, barely still upright, indifferent to your aroused state, he starts thrusting. His furred balls bump your clit, causing you to let out a throaty moan, unable to contain yourself any further. Pistoning his canine cock in and out like a wild beast. Each full movement pushes in his quickly expanding knot that your drenched quim easily accommodates.

His thrusts turn into swift and unrelenting humps, his tongue now once again lolling out but for an entirely different reason. It all is too much for your new body, with an instinctual whinny your mare-pussy clamps around the canine cock, coating it in an additional layer of mare-cum as the excess squirts out and or leaks down between your legs. Orgasm reverberating throughout your body.

Your climax has its effect on Stump too, as he growls and locks up, fully sheathing himself in you before his cock flexes and warm seed begins flooding your pussy. You can feel the volume of it quickly increase but soon his knot proves insufficient to seal it inside, as you discern some of it leak out and onto the cobblestone road below.

“Lunch time! Dorthe, don’t you skip apprentice work today!” Alvor’s voice pierces your dazed mind.

“C-coming dad!” you hear two sets of feet scamper off in the direction of Alvors home. Slowly coming down from your orgasm, twitching doggy cock still pumping seed into you. A wave of embarrassment forces its way into your mind as the reality of what just happened sets in.

You try to shimmy out from under him but Stump lets out a low growl causing you to freeze. In a panic you start to scan your surroundings for any other witnesses, distinguishing none but the two kids about to enter the blacksmith's home. But before your heart rate can get any higher you see the girl glance back at you while on the porch of the home and whistle “Food s-stump!”

Unceremoniously the dog hops off you, in one fell swoop withdrawing his canine cock with an audible schlorp. You can’t help but moan as you feel the warm shaft leave you, followed by copious amounts of puppy batter spill out of your mare-pussy. His bitch now impregnated he happily runs off, girl-cum and seed coated cock bouncing with the momentum of his sprint, crotch fur visibly wet with your intertwined liquids. Completely unbothered as his mind is focused entirely on the yummy food he’s about to receive for a job well done.

Attempting to shake yourself out of it, with wobbly feet you walk in the direction of Faendal. Leaving a small trail of white spunk in your wake as you tread onward having just been fucked and stuffed by a dog.

On the way there you see the convenient slope going down into the river, right by the entrance to the town you used earlier. Throwing a quick glance around before you scoot down the soil until you're right next to the water. Turning haunch first you slowly lower your seed filled quim into the water. Upon contact with the ice cold water you almost lose balance and tumble into the water.

It’s like someone shoved ice cubes into you, body temperature being virtually sucked out by the glacial water. You do your best to push through it, you can’t walk around naked otherwise, brain simply not allowing it. Trying to clench your insides and shake your haunch a little to hopefully clean more of the fluids off.

With a sigh you push forward, leaving the cold water. You hope that the only fluid remaining on your haunch is river water but it’s hard to tell when your body physically disallows you from examining your own genitals.

Taking a deep breath you continue on and return to Faendal. Having seemingly reached his chopped wood quota, he's leaning against a nearby fence looking into the river. “I’ve delivered your letter, she seemed happy” you watch him initially startle from your sudden appearance followed by the relief that comes from your words. “Thank you so much!” he hurriedly pulls a small leather bag that jingles like it's full of coins, holding it outstretched “If you need anything else let me know!” as you begin reaching for the bag with your maw the man just drops it.

His excitement gets the better of him as he sets off, bounding toward the shop.

“Wait! I was planning to go to the trading building too, we can go together if you’d follow me.” you attempt to recruit him as a follower which should be possible after completing the quest, praying that this aspect of the game carries over into this real life version. “I’d be honored to follow a servant of lus.” he walks back to the fence, grabbing a quiver full of arrows, slinging it over his shoulder. Followed by seizing the shortbow laying against the fence and attaching it to his back.

Relieved that your survival strategy didn’t just collapse, you grab the leather bag with your mouth and stride onwards to the center of town. Faendal follows closely behind. You bypass the riverwood trader for now, not stepping into the white remnants of your previous encounter. The wood elf doesn’t comment.

Remembering where Faendal’s house was, you loop around the back of the riverwood trader building, walking past hod’s home. The hairy tundra cow in their front yard looks especially fluffy in person. Swiftly arriving at your destination, a small single room, nord cottage. You momentarily let go of the leather bag occupying your mouth, “Could you open the door? I’m feeling pretty hungry so I wanted to use your cooking pot.” no idea why you're trying to hide your thief intentions when it's not like you’ll be able to carry out whatever you collect there by yourself.

“Of course, my home is your home” he says in a reassuring tone as he pushes the chunky wooden door open. The interior is comfortably warm. Just like the general goods trader there is a fireplace opposite the entrance. Large rugs litter the rough wooden floor, doing your best to avoid them so as to not corrupt them with your muddy hooves. A single bed is on the right hand side of the cottage, small cupboards and shelves line the walls.

Various items from food to weapons are placed atop said storage furniture. “Would it be alright if we sold some of these things? We can split the profits.” the last hurdle before you can hopefully buy your first conjuration spell.

“Well I’m not using most of it, why not, if it can help a servant of the gods.” he says as he munches on a plate of baked potatoes and grilled leeks, using a rudimentary wooden spoon.

You awkwardly walk around the hut as you wait for him to finish his meal. Starting to get a little hungry and thirsty yourself, hearing him bite into an especially crunchy part of the baked potato. Soon he's done and you instruct on the best things to sell, choosing the basic iron sword, war axe and two sabre cat pelts. It’s not like you’ll be using the melee weapons and neither will he since he’s an archer.

But just in case you find a use for melee gear in the future, you leave the banded iron shield, mace and helmet in the cottage. The elf grabs a backpack lying at the foot of his bed, shoving the gear you selected into it along with the small bag of coins he gave you earlier. Both swiftly heading over to the riverwood trader, inside he handles the bartering. You don’t remember how much these things cost in the game but in the end you acquire 50 gold from the sale, you see Faendal pocket approximately the same amount.

In addition to the 25 gold you got for completing the quest you are now 75 gold richer. Faendal groups all of your gold in a single medium sized leather baggy, all the while he shoots lustful glances in Camilla’s direction. Not wanting to separate the lovebirds any further you tell him “That’ll be all for now, thanks for your help.”

That’s all he needed to hear, immediately bounding and embracing Camilla as their mouths connect in a sloppy kiss. You swear there about to strip in front of you, hands groping each other through their clothes. But before they can get any further Lucan coughs, Camilla pulls away from the elf, panting, apologizing, then they both promptly exit the building. “Lovebirds…” he murmurs, you see Faendal has left behind his backpack.

“I’m looking to buy a conjuration spell tome.” You perk your muzzle up, head barely even reaching the top of the counter. “Uh, okay…talking pony. As long as you’ve got the gold.” he looks down at you with a puzzled expression painted on his face. “The only conjuration tome I have in stock is conjure skeleton, 50 gold.”

“Yes! That’s perfect!” unable to hide your excitement. You toss the weighty leather bag onto the counter with your maw, it almost goes over it but the shopkeeper snatches it out of the air. With professional levels of speed he near instantaneously extracts 50 coins from it and shoves them into the iron strongbox behind the counter. Placing both the purple spell book and your now, significantly lighter ,coin bag on the counter, finishing the transaction.

You struggle to open the leather backpack, eventually succeeding with a combination of luck, biting, and pressing it down with your front hoof. Dropping the book and coin bag into the bag before you ask the shopkeeper to open the door for you. He does so without any complaints. There’s no way you're going to try and open this backpack again so instead you just push the opening closed and bite it.

Carrying the large tanned leather object with your mouth you exit the shop, heading back to where you initially recruited Faendal so you can have a semblance of privacy without leaving the safe confines of the town. Arriving at the destination you let the bag fall into the dirt, shifting it open with your snout.

Praying that you don’t actually have to study the spellbook as you move your head, touching it with your nose just like the mage stone earlier. It immediately poofs out of existence as the knowledge contained within floods your mind. The do’s and don'ts of forcefully pulling a skeleton from some hell-ish realm and summoning it in this one.

You do as instructed, trying to do magic; focusing real hard on a spot in the grass in front of you. Mentally charging the spell for a couple seconds before letting it go, that instant your entire world spins. Beginning to black out, legs crumpling, the last thing you see is a swirly purple portal appear with an accompanying mystical swoosh sound.

Your senses steadily return to you, coming to lying face first in the soil.

Groggy and confused you get to your feet. Opening your eyes you see the summoned monster, a bone man, standing idly ahead of you. A humanoid skeleton with worn, yellow-ish bones, its empty eye sockets have a faint blue light. An iron mace is tied to one of its chest ribs, lightly swinging with the wind. Walking a lap around it elicits no reaction, seemingly entirely mindless.

Next you try to give it a command with your mind, telling it to follow you. It obeys without issue, walking behind you while you trot to the plank bridge and back. Afterwards, something more complex; instructing it to pick up the leather backpack. It reaches down and squishes the tanned leather bag before its bony hand contracts around it, lifting it up. While the skeleton is holding the backpack you tell it to wear it, but it does nothing, continuing to follow your previous command.

Was that too complex or can it just not wear things? You experiment with a few more hard commands and the latter appears to be the correct hypothesis. Overall having spent a couple hours testing the limits of your skeleton man. Now able to offload your burdens to it as well as relegating protection and combat. Another thing you quickly notice and gloss over is the removal of the minute long summon duration.

During your summoning evaluation you discovered that you had the ability to dismiss the skeleton, its bone structure crumpling before fading out of existence along with the mace. Just like previously the magicka drain when conjuring it, made you black out for a couple seconds.

Deciding on the next big goal; acquiring any items that increase your magicka or reduce the cost of conjuration spells. Losing consciousness whenever you summon a skeleton will be a death sentence in any dangerous scenario, though you’ve yet to level up so maybe you’ll be able to increase your magicka then.

Skeleton in tow you head over to Faendal’s home, sun starting to set as you guess it to be around 6 or 7 pm. Tired, hungry and thirsty you're ready to eat your fill and bring on tomorrow via sleeping in the elf’s bed.

On the way there you make a quick stop at the river you used previously, this time gulping down the refreshingly cold water before having the skeleton splash water at you to clean the dirt off your face, flank. Coming up on the cottage you instruct the skeleton to open the door, he struggles for a bit until you give a more descriptive command for him to pull the handle down and push the wooden slab which finally gets it ajar.

The interior is nicely warm, fire still crackling in the large stone fireplace. You haven’t really felt cold yet, benefits of the equine body most likely. Though you’d probably need something if you were to climb mountains or anything eastmarch in general. Entering the home you tell the skeleton to stand in a corner before dismissing him, leather backpack falling to the floor.

The cottage is empty, metal plate Faendal ate off of still on a dinner table in the corner. You just begin going to town on the food lying around the cottage in typical skyrim fashion, starting off with a salmon steak.

A hint of thyme accenting the somehow very fresh tasting cooked salmon, scarfing it down. It barely makes a dent in your hunger. Next you bite into one of the loaves of bread and move it to the dinner table, followed by doing the same to an eidar cheese wedge. Taking a bite out of one then the other you gradually consume them, the bread is fluffy with a crunchy exterior, not stale at all. While the cheese provides the perfect amount of earthy, tanginess to go along with the white bread.

Finishing the meal off with a swig of wine, pulling the cork out via your teeth then taking the neck of it in your mouth. The wine, in stark contrast to everything else so far, tastes pretty bad but you’ve never been particularly fond of alcohol.

Having eaten your fill you let out a deep sigh of satisfaction, eying the bed. Moving closer it’s base is made out of hay with multiple animal skins on top of it. Now that you're scanning it you swear the skins look more tossed around than they were previously but you dismiss the thought, not like you were particularly paying attention to it before.

Throwing yourself onto the bed, it's certainly something. Not exactly uncomfortable but sometimes an extra prickly piece of hay jolts you out of your state of relaxation. At least the animal skins feel nice, slowly drifting off to sleep.

…

Your snooze only lasts a couple hours, during the middle of the night you're shaken awake by fidgeting at the cottage door. Swiftly being pushed open as Camilla and Faendal enter. Clearly after spending hours at the tavern, feet wobbly, their both hanging onto each other for both balance and sexual pleasure as their hands grope and squeeze. Stumbling, they begin to make their way over to the bed, alarms blaring in your mind. “H-hello, I’m already sleeping here”

“Yu donnn’t miind if we ssquees in next to you, right” Camilla says, slurring her words. “F-fine, if you stay on your side of the bed.” you seal your fate.

They both somehow manage to strip without falling face first on the rough wooden floor, both now standing at the foot of the bed. Camilla stroking Faendal’s hard cock, already glistening with pre-cum, while her other hand is squeezing his pert butt. Meanwhile Faendal is entirely focused on her large tits, massaging or squeezing her nipples, her bushy pussy being at eye level to you makes it hard to look away. Both moaning and groaning in between sloppy kisses, entirely comfortable doing this in front of you.

Before you can shift to the side, Camilla falls back first onto you. Her bubbly ass lands right on top of your equine butt, plump body now acting almost as a blanket, her body heat radiating off of her and sinking into you. “That’s not the other side of the bed” you yelp, her head now lying mere inches from yours, flushed face letting out short, raspy breaths.

Your own arousal is not close behind, the smell of sweat, sex and alcohol now permeated throughout the cottage. Faendal climbs onto the bed, his rough hands grasping your underbelly and Camilla’s waist for support. Panting, you feel as she spreads her legs, thick thighs brushing against your tail and legs. Moaning and fondling her tits as the elf does something, unable to see due to being entirely squeezed by the two bodies above you.

Faendal shifts lower, some of the weight leaves your flank before you feel something hot run along your drenched equine pussy lips “T-that’s not c-” is all you can moan out before he thrusts his slick shaft into you. “Gods…” he grunts, as your vagina instinctually contracts around the elf’s cock. A second later he’s fully sheathed inside, Camilla looks to you with a grin on her face as she moves her hands to her surely dripping slit.

The elf starts to fuck you, his half drunk, slow thrusts making barely audible wet squelching noises. You shouldn’t be feeling this much pleasure, cock smaller than what your body is made for, thrusts slower than what you went through with the dog but the squirming, panting Imperial woman on top of you and sex-drunk atmosphere more than makes up for it. You can’t help yourself from moaning along with the elf everytime he goes balls deep into your drenched quim.

Each full thrust makes you tingle. You begin to wonder how close he is before, in his drunken state he finds your engorged clit. As if it actually were a button, each time he brushes it, you let out a throaty moan, equine pussy squeezing and contracting in response, doing its best to milk the twitching shaft.

The additional pleasure has its effect, now squirming along with the still grinning woman on top of you, levels of pleasure quickly approaching your limit. You try to do anything to enhance it further but you're completely trapped.

Instead, forced to reach your climax entirely at the elf’s discretion as he continues his steady thrusts. Average sized cock more than easily flowing in and out of your mare-pussy. “P-please, more” you beg, hoping for anything extra.

He doesn’t acknowledge your neediness, persisting with his current pace and occasionally thumbing your clit. Eventually it’s enough to get you over the edge, with a gasp you nuzzle into the warm animal skins, mare-pussy compressing around the elf’s shaft as girl-cum squirts onto his crotch, finally having reached at least a mini orgasm.

“Taaake my ssseed yus!” Faendal bellows a haphazard prayer to lus before, for the first time putting some force behind the final thrust as he sheaths himself inside you. A loud, wet, plap echoes throughout the small cottage as your bodies connect, twitching cockhead shooting globs of warm seed into you.

A couple seconds later he pulls out, barely any of the warm load leaks out when he does. You're already over your mini climax and want more, but it looks like the elf is done with you. You watch Camilla's eyes go wide as she gets penetrated, howling “AAaa-yesssss!”. Faendal’s cock being more than enough for her human body as she twitches and gasps with each thrust. The elf fucks her with the exact same pace he used on you. It’s hard to not notice her bubbly ass shift upwards, sliding along your flank with each motion.

“Brreed meee!” she moans as she locks her legs around his waist, squirming a little more than usual. Faendal is unbothered, with a grunt he pushes through her orgasm, maybe already half asleep as he continues instinctually humping her pussy.

You sigh, closing your eyes, hoping sleep will fade in and take you into the night.

Author's Note

Didn't get a story thumbnail off of some art sharing site/booru since I have no clue what the etiquette is like here. I'm guessing it's fine to use something as long as you actually credit the artist and add an url to the specific piece of art.

Other than that this is one of my first published stories, first with a non human protagonist so feedback is appreciated.