After an exhausting cart ride our heroine finally makes it to Winterhold, and almost instantly regrets her decision. Fresh snow was falling, each one like a pinch on her temperature-sensitive scales. She chucked the gold and jogged toward the College, quietly muttering to herself “useless fucking mage robes” while tearing up a little.

As she approached the gate, the unfazed Altmer gatekeeper remained leaning against the wall. Once our heroine got under the outcropping and aggressively patted away the snowflakes partially melted to her, she was met with a throat clearing.

“Welcome back; did you find what you were looking for?”

The Argonian nodded back.

“Good. But you’re a well late for dinner, and judging by the time i reckon the cooks have already gone to bed, pretty much everyone has at this point.”

As the Argonian opened her mouth to say something, a burst of wind struck her from behind, flipping up her skirt and exposing her secret to the gatekeeper. Her yellowish skin darkened at the brief sight, followed by a cough as she tried to regain her composure.

“O-oh, I, uh… see. I'm guessing you're looking for him right? Well last time I saw him he was heading off to who knows where, muttering about finding new ingredients. He said he'd be back eventually. Can't say it was the smartest choice to drink some experimental potion made by some raving alchemist, eh? Pretty sure you might be the only one who took anything that crazy guy brewed up.”

She nodded, dejectedly. This in turn led to a brief recounting of what she had been up to, with the elf’s normally pensive face turning darker and darker, despite the raunchier details being left out. As she was finishing up, the Argonian’s belly growled loudly, making her almost instinctively reach for her coin purse. When she felt how light it was, she resigned herself to getting something cheap to eat at the inn.

There was a pause as the elf looked her over, then turned and closed the gate to the bridge.

“Come with me. It’s getting late anyway, so I doubt the arch-mage would mind me taking my break now.”

The Argonian, now confused, followed the Altmer to a nearby shop; the sign read Birna’s Oddments. The rusted bell dinged softly as they entered, with our heroine immediately going and sitting before the fire.

“Oh, Faralda? Wasn’t expecting to see you here so early. Got another “broke prospect”?”

“Nah, this one has already made it in. Poor thing’s starving though, and needs a little bit of “dinner money”.”

The pawn-broker grunted and flipped the latch shut, causing the Argonian to turn around in time to see the elf downing a strange looking potion, her skirt lifting itself upwards. In place of a faintly cheese colored cooch, there was a growing monster of a cock dropping out of a blackened sheath. The poor lizard eyes widened as she started to tent, inquiring as to what that big ol’ dick was going to be used for.

“Sitting next to that gate all day in those cold nights, you can imagine a girl can get lonely, so here's the deal: forty cemtimeters, forty gold. That’s if you can get it all down, anyway.” She said, wiggling it enticingly. As the Argonian stared at it, thoroughly hypnotized, Birna sat down behind her.

“You know, I’ve heard that Argonian females carry hist sap in their tits. Are you planning on feeding an entire clutch, lizard?” She reached around and yoinked the Argonian’s top down, exposing her sizeable rack, then squeezed her nipples.

The sudden sensations made our heroine groan in surprise, opening her mouth enough for the equine member to slide into her throat. Old habits made her immediately relax, even as her nipples were getting tweaked and massaged, and she easily took in the shaft. A small look of defiance from her was met with mild regret from the destruction scholar as her throat tightened, constricting the obscene member in a vice-like grip. Her tongue lashed around the sheath, making the poor elf drop to her knees while the Nord woman gave a hearty laugh.

“Looks like this one ain’t as timid as you remember!”

The ensuing blowjob brought the gatekeeper to climax several times in as many minutes, the glow from her grapefruit sized nuts dissipating as they shrank. The Argonian used her long digits to probe the Altmer’s ass, finding it as spacious and accommodating as one could expect from such a hoighty toighty race: big enough to nearly fit her whole hand into. Faralda begged for mercy by her seventh orgasm, her cock forced to stay hard from the Alchemist’s spiked brew despite having no more semen in her body.

Birna, getting tired of the moaning and exhausted beseechment, pushed the elf backwards and sat on Faralda’s face to silence her, skirt and all.

“Oi, you’re making a racket. I don’t want the guards knocking on my door and asking if someone got killed here again.”

After a few more minutes, the Argonian lifted her head, Faralda’s floppy phallus falling from her face and onto her own belly. Birna lifted herself up and rifled through the mage’s pockets, pulling out a coin purse and dropping a few into her hand. She then tossed the rest into the Argonian’s cleavage.

“There’s about a hundred or so gold in there; consider it compensation. I’ll drag Dumbass upstairs. The gate’s more or less just for show, by the way.”

The Argonian took the coin purse and stowed the goods in her own, left the empty bag on the counter, and made her way into the College. Her belly was a little distended from the sheer amount of semen, and, coupled with her already tiring trip to winterhold, her next goal was clear: bath time. The trip there, due to the early evening hour meaning that most were indoors researching (or “researching”), went smoothly, and soon enough she was sliding into the warm, public bath.

She gave her belly a rub as she relaxed, her hand naturally drifting downwards to her half-hard member. Her thoughts drifting from revenge face-fucking the gatekeeper to more serious matters: what exactly did she want to do here?

She could learn more about Illusion magic. The professor was a bit loopy, but tales of master illusionists managing to trick people into working with them and against their allies were quite enticing… If she could even get to that level. Plus, it was something she was already good at! But then again, “good” is relative, and so far none of her spells had really… Worked. At all. Perhaps she could try her hand at Destruction or Restoration? She thought back to the time where her desperation caused her powers to manifest, and those two schools lit up a type of spark in her. A riskier option, since she would have to learn an entirely different skillset, but potentially a more… Effective one.

If she could even learn new magic. She wasn’t exactly an uber-mage to begin with.

It was frustrating, the mood now ruined by her own stress. She sank further into the hot water of the bath, lingering on how to approach the coming weeks. Hopping out of the soothing waters, she dried herself off and reclothed herself setting off to her assigned room to think some more.

Until she could figure out what she wanted to do, she would just go and keep doing what she had been before: Looking for work. And maybe shoving her scaly foot up a certain elf’s ass.

of course i'd like to thank https://twitter.com/MrSneks for proof readying and editing this so it's not trash