Janus3003
Skyrim Marriage Counselor
Ulfric lounged on his throne, idly playing with the chain attached to Lydia’s collar.
“You’ll never get away with this!” said Lydia, sitting at Ulfric’s feet and clad in a red bikini.
“On the contrary, my dear, I will get away with it. In fact, in due time, you will want me to get away with it.” Ulfric flashed his million Septim smile, and Lydia’s cheeks flushed. She looked at the floor, angry with herself for her growing attraction to the handsome Nord.
“My Jarl!” Galmar Stone-Fist ran to Ulfric’s side. “The Dragonborn has arrived!”
“Good. See to it that he finds his way here.”
“Are you sure about this, Ulfric? He is very dangerous.”
Ulfric looked tenderly on his dear friend. “Fear not, my brave Stone-Fist. Our nights of drink and revelry will continue for some time now.”
The throne room doors fell from their hinges. The Dragonborn stood at the threshold, sword and shield drawn. His cobalt eyes were wild with fury. His sinewy muscles pulsed with the strength of ten men. His mane of jet black hair and the matching beard upon his face gave his visage both a savage and dignified appearance. He was Imperial by blood, Julius by name.
“Welcome, Dragonborn!” Ulfric beckoned the warrior closer. “It’s an honor to meet you! An unexpected pleasure!”
Julius approached the throne, murder in his eyes. Lydia had never seen him so livid. It scared her.
“Tell me,” said Ulfric, “what brings you here to my humble home? You will stay for dinner, of course.”
“No one steals my property from me,” said Julius.
He stopped in his tracks, eyes wide in shock. Lydia gasped, and a tear ran down her soft cheek.
“Property, Dragonborn?” Ulfric shook his head.
Lydia tried not to sob. “Julius …”
“Lydia, I married you for your body.” Julius’s eyes narrowed. “What is going on!?”
“Only the truth, Dragonborn,” said Ulfric. “I had my court mage cast a spell on this throne room. Anyone within its confines can speak only the truth!”
“No, I don’t believe you!” said Lydia. “I’ll prove it! I’ll lie about my eye color!”
“Feel free,” said Ulfric with a smile.
“My eyes are green!” Lydia gasped, her hand shooting to her mouth. More tears came to her green eyes.
“It’s the truth, Lydia,” said Julius. “I have mistresses in every town and hold. Your body grew boring before long. I faked every orga—”
Lydia burst into tears, sobbing into her hands as if she were a child again. Ulfric placed a hand on her bare shoulder.
“It’ll be okay, Lydia,” said Ulfric. “I will always love you.”
Lydia clung to Ulfric’s massive calf, crying into his powerful thigh.
“I have always envied you!” said Julius, pointing his sword at Ulfric. “I joined the Imperial Legion so that I could kill you! The moment I saw you on the cart in Helgen, I knew you were the manliest man in all of Skyrim, and I could never surpass you so long as you lived! I want to murder you, Stormcloak!”
Julius lunged at the throne, sword glinting in the light as it descended towards Ulfric’s perfect blonde hair.
Ulfric caught the blade with his bare hand. Julius gawked in astonishment.
“Galmar is not the only Stone-Fist around here!” Ulfric said, winking to his beloved and forever loyal housecarl.
Julius’s skull cracked with one blow of Ulfric’s fist. The Dragonborn fell to the floor, dead and unable to torment poor Lydia any longer.
Lydia continued sobbing as Ulfric pulled her into his lap.
“I feel like I’ve failed as a woman,” said Lydia. “Why could I not please my man?”
“Because he was no true man,” said Ulfric.
Lydia’s eyes fell on Ulfric’s handsome face. “I’ve never known a true man until tonight, my beautiful Jarl.” She slipped her arms around his shoulders. She closed her eyes as she leaned her face in for a kiss.
“Open wide,” said Ulfric. Lydia obeyed as Ulfric Stormcloak’s open mouth met her own, his powerful Nord tongue sliding all the way down her throat.
“Oh, Jarl Ulfric!” Lydia blushed. “I’ve never been with a man so manly!”
“And there is so much more where that came from, my sweet,” Ulfric said with a suggestive grin. Lydia flushed again as she realized that the truth spell was still active, and Ulfric was not selling himself short.
“Jarl Ulfric!” cried Galmar Stone-Fist. “The Imperials are at our gates! And all of them know karate!”
Ulfric stood quickly, Lydia letting out a small “oof” as she hit the floor. She immediately forgave him, knowing the situation was serious.
“We cannot risk our men,” said Ulfric, his voice grave. “Galmar, you and I will do battle with the Imperials ourselves. Let us prepare ourselves for war.”
Galmar and Ulfric ripped off their shirts, revealing their giant muscles. The oil on their bodies glistened in the light as they exercised. Their upcoming acts would be hard on their firm bodies, but the damage could be mitigated with proper preparation. Squatting and thrusting, thrusting and squatting, Ulfric and Galmar grinned knowing grins at one another. They loved partaking in these things together.
“Enough,” said Ulfric. “We are ready.”
Lydia cried and clung to Ulfric’s leg.
“Please, don’t leave me! I’m scared! What if you don’t come back?”
“I will come back, Lydia. Worry not.”
Lydia nodded in understanding. “You are right, Ulfric. Oh, that I were a man and could be strong like a man! Alas, I am but a woman, and I must try harder to keep my emotions in check.”
Ulfric and Galmar went to the gates of Windhelm. Before them stood a thousand Imperial Legionnaires, all bristling with hatred.
“NO TRIAL! NO TALOS! NO SKYRIM!” they chanted.
“These are not men,” said Galmar, “they are monsters.”
“Monsters can still bleed, dearest Fist Friend,” said Ulfric. The two comrades in arms took one last loving glance at each other before they leapt into the fray.
Immediately the Imperials took an ancient karate stance, their fists and fleet whirling as they tried to murder the two heroic Nords. However, their efforts were totally in vain, and Ulfric’s mighty blade and Galmar’s stone fist destroyed them all.
Finally they stood before General Tullius. The Imperial glared at Ulfric and Galmar.
“My Thalmor masters will hear of this!” said Tullius.
“The Thalmor do not frighten me, General,” said Ulfric. “I have suffered at their hands. Indeed, Elenwen herself oversaw my tortures. She personally shackled me spread eagle. She took a whip to my back, clad in merely a leather corset and thigh-high boots. With her very own hands, she tenderly rubbed fragrant oils all over my supple body. When I was good, she covered my chest in black kisses. When I was bad, she spanked me until I pleaded for mercy.
“Indeed, General Tullius,” continued Ulfric with a fierce glare, “I have suffered at the hands of the Thalmor. I know of their tortures. And my blade and my Stone-Fist will make certain that they never treat me again!”
No one ever found General Tullius’s remains.
Ulfric and Galmar retired to Ulfric’s bedchambers for relaxation and merriment, but were greeted with a surprise.
Beautiful women, all lounging about in expensive bikinis.
“Hello, dearest,” said Lydia.
“What’s the matter? Never seen a strong Nord woman before?” said Olfina Grey-Mane.
“I know my place,” said Maven Black-Briar.
“Only your manliness can keep me safe from my pursuers,” said Saadia.
“I’ve been very bad,” said Susannah the Wicked.
“I believe only in Eight Divines,” said Elenwen, “but I do believe you have the Ninth hidden somewhere in your trousers.”
Ulfric grinned. Galmar gawked.
“Jeepers, Ulfric!” said Galmar. “Whatever will you do with all these womenfolk?”
“A simple Shout, favored Fist. One I have never before uttered. One that sends those who hear it into a lustful frenzy.”
“Will you need my help?”
“No, Galmar. Though your manly Stone-Fist has served me many a cold night, it may rest at this time. I shall conquer this challenge alone.”
He turned to the eager ladies as Galmar left.
“AY—“” he Shouted, “—PROL FULZ!”
Then they all had sex.
