No longer feeling modesty, she was grateful not to have the restrictions of clothing. Her movements helped with the uncaring display her body to anyon..., everyone, and no one, feeling she had nothing to hide and hid nothing. Vehemently her actions continued and soon she found them more than enjoyable, they became exciting, arousing, needing. She threw herself to the floor, spreadeagled, then slowly pulled her upper body back causing her hips to rise, supported by her knees, felt the parting of. She crooked her finger at her husband, and he obediently moved closer, his hands gripping the cell bars high above her head. ‘Frolick,’ she whispered, blushing. His eyes dropped to her mouth, then rose to lock with her own. Draven’s lips quirked. ‘It astounds me that one so wicked in thought as you can still blush,’ he whispered back. ‘Pray tell me you wouldn’t blush if the occasion somehow arose of discussing frolicking in front of your dear mother, Queen Elsbeth.’ ‘It would be remiss of me. You try to kick but I slap your ass good and hard. You wimper a little and do as your told. I carry you into the building and down some stairs. It's cool in there and I throw you down onto a small bed. I cut your clothes off you. Your nipples become hard in the cold air. I take your hands and tie them to the bed. I walk slowly around the bed. You turn your head trying to figure out where I am. I pull out the gag and you take a large breath of air."Where a...." You start to speak but I. We waited, and after a minute, the water ceased boiling and the rumbling stopped, only now the carvings were fully out of the water. I giggled nervously. “Okay, that was unexpected.”We crossed the bridge and as we got closer, I could see that the draugr were already dead. The crypt of Jurgen was decorated with dragon heads, and a clawed hand was reaching up from it. “What in Oblivion?” There was a note sitting in the hand. This wasn’t a funny joke.The note read, ‘Dragonborn – I need to speak to.