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5 | Fredas & Loredas, 28 & 29 Sun's Dusk 4E 201


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                Night had fallen by the time Keerava returned to the inn – a day out on the town had tired her out almost as much as working did, but it was still nice to get a day off for once. Plus, if she just quietly slipped away every now and again she could get her new employee used to the schedule and everything involved in that. Worked out for everyone, as far as she was concerned.

                At the moment there was nobody on the ground floor – nobody behind the bar or anywhere else in the place, except for whoever it was upstairs that was still walking around, making the slightest noise as the wood planks creaked beneath them. Keerava wasn’t too keen on interacting with people right now, but considering she had to go upstairs anyways to get to bed she’d have to risk talking to whoever it was up there. Not that that would be a problem, or anything, but she’d have to get up early and the prospect of being delayed getting to bed didn’t seem that great.

                Thus, she snuck upstairs, both to avoid detection and to avoid waking anyone up. Someone else managed to do a better job at avoiding detection, though, as evidenced by the fact that Keerava jumped when he spoke.

                “So, where’ve you been all day?” It was the Dragonborn, leaning against the wall of his own room. His arms were crossed, and he looked quite contented with his wall-leaning.

                Keerava looked around a little bit – he didn’t have much of a reason to be standing out in a hallway in the middle of the night, after all, so surely there was something interesting out here to justify it – before asking, “What are you doing out here?”

                “Oh, I came out to see you, once I knew you’d gotten back.”

                “And you knew when that was because…” Keerava narrowed her eyes at Bjorn. That was definitely not something a normal person would say. Then again…

                Bjorn brought up his left hand and tapped a ring on one of his fingers. It either hadn’t been there before or she just never noticed. “Detect life,” he said, “I always wear one of these when I’m asleep. Lets me know if someone’s gonna try to sneak up on me.” He paused for a minute and added, “Of course, I know a shout to do the same thing but it’s only temporary, not long enough to keep me aware of what’s going on when I’m asleep.”

                Keerava just nodded and said, “Uh-huh, but why are you out here now?”

                Bjorn frowned, though it was obviously meant to be humorous. “I seem to remember asking you a question first.”

                The Argonian rolled her eyes. “You know I don’t get out much, holed up in here all the time. I’ve been wandering around the forests outside town all day long, just to see what’s out there.”

                “Right,” said the Dragonborn, “and to make sure your plans back here work out, right? Don’t worry, everything was fine, I helped her along, turned out great.”

                Keerava raised an eyebrow – or the Argonian equivalent to one anyways – and took a step back. “What are you talking about?”

                Bjorn stood up from the wall, and came in close to Keerava. He leaned in and whispered, “Maramal’s right. We’re all sinners. You and I, our sins aren’t all that different.” Then he stood up, smiled, and gave a half-hearted salute with two fingers. “Well, good night then,” he said as he walked back into his room and shut the door behind him.

                He left Keerava standing in the hall, stunned. ‘What was that,’ she thought, ‘Does he… no. What? How could he?’ And so she stood there for some time confusing herself with her own thoughts before finally thinking out loud: “Screw it, I need some sleep.” She forced herself to stop thinking about anything, and when she got to her own room she immediately headed for the bed, and when she got there practically collapsed onto it. In mere moments, she was sound asleep.

 

                Keerava found herself on a farm, looking out over a vast field of crops, getting ready for harvest. She felt proud, like she had done that. Like for once in her life working her hands to the bone was actually accomplishing something. This, of course, was the result of clawing her way out of poverty in Riften, and finally escaping the place to get to this farm – her farm – so she could work on something she enjoyed.

                She couldn’t stand there all day, though. The work may have been good and done, but satisfaction isn’t the only feeling to come out of a long day of work. When was the last time that needed taking care of? Thirty hours? Twenty? Hard to tell, but that didn’t really matter if she was being yelled at by her own body right at the moment. Even with all her training and her natural advantage in that area, she could only wait so long, and if she was being told now that she needed draining, then it’d be better done soon rather than later.

                Therefore, she had to head back inside. It was a possibility – and a very tempting one – to just relieve herself right there in the field. Nobody was around to see, after all, so she could do whatever she wanted. And yet despite how much she would have liked to do otherwise, Keerava decided that she wanted to head inside instead. It was starting to get dark anyways.

                Keerava headed for the farmhouse door, pushed it open, and found herself inside the Chapel of Mara in Riften. This, of course, did not seem the least bit strange to her. It did throw off her plans some, though, since Maramal was giving a sermon at present. Wandering around a church, looking for something to urinate into, while the place was filled with people listening to the word of the Divines didn’t strike Keerava as being a very smart idea. So, she did what any sane person would do in her situation, and immediately sat down in the nearest bench, threw one leg over the other, and started to just wait.

                It didn’t take very long for the service to end – in fact, it felt to Keerava like it was over as soon as she sat down – but once it did everyone else in the church either left through the front door, or in the case of Maramal walked off to a corner and disappeared completely. Then she stood up, now feeling the force of however much fluid she was carrying inside her. Keerava had to bend slightly at the knees but refrained from grabbing herself as she was still in a public place, even if nobody was around. A quick walk around the main room of the chapel accomplished nothing interesting, though Keerava did have to stop several times during it to pull herself together, and having found nothing inside she left from the way she came.

                This time, the door led to Riften, though instead of coming out at the chapel, Keerava found herself leaving a house near the main square. There was one minor difference, though: all the shop stalls in the square were replaced with small wooden booths – outhouses, quite the rarity in Tamriel and yet here were several of them all in a group. But then this was just normal Riften so there’s nothing spectacular about that.

                Keerava wasn’t one to waste a good opportunity, so she headed to the closest one, fortunately finding it unoccupied. Once inside, she barred the door and stripped down so she could take care of business. Being careful to avoid agitating her bladder – which by now was rather distended and firm – she pulled her pants and underwear to below her knees and sat down. The outhouse had a bench-like seat, with a round hole in the middle leading to who-knows-where, so it was no less comfortable than sitting on any chair. In her seat, Keerava relaxed herself – and nothing happened. Her need had escalated greatly in the past few minutes, and yet she could not will herself to take care of it. She tried teasing herself with two fingers, and that too did nothing. The only sensations there were for her at the moment were the great pressure that was her full bladder, which only recently made itself known, and the burning sensation in her nethers that seemed to demand she do something about that pressure.

                There wasn’t much she could do about either of those feelings though, since nothing she tried seemed to actually get anything to happen, and now someone was knocking on her door. If she couldn’t do anything, she’d have to leave. She tried to relax enough to let go once more, and once more nothing happened. Sighing, she stood up, bent down to re-dress, pressing ever so slightly on the weight in her belly, and left the outhouse as some Dunmer lady went in.

                Unable to think of any other options, Keerava decided the logical choice was to go to the docks, so with one hand resting on her bulge and the other balled into a fist at her side, she slowly made her way there. It took some time, though fortunately there were no people getting in the way and all the buildings that should have been blocking her had apparently been moved ever so slightly, so the path was straight and clear.

                Once she got to her destination, Keerava walked over to one of the piers, and all the way to the far end, where she stood for a few moments thinking about what she would do next. Looking around, she saw nobody in the area, so she once again disrobed from the waist down, got into a squatting position, and again tried to relax. Yet again, to nobody’s surprise, nothing happened. One more try, and this time she managed to let out a short dribble, but as it was only a few drops she felt no different. She did feel warmer, for some reason, but the pressure was still there and still as strong as ever. Keerava was now officially out of ideas, so she re-dressed and sat down on the pier, with both her hands now in her crotch and her legs hanging off the pier, crossing over each other and getting tangled together in all sorts of shapes.

                Keerava sat there doing that for a little while, until finally one of her feet just barely touched the surface of the water below her. Whether by coincidence or because the water was some kind of magic, she felt a long, hot spurt dampen her clothes. Surprised, she fell over backwards, and shut her eyes tight as she fought with her pants to get them out of the way now that she was actually doing something. Another spurt came, and then another, and once she finally managed to wrestle her clothes into a position where her lower body was clear, she let out a two-second stream that arced out of her body and into Lake Honrich with what should have been a splash. It was not a splash, however. Instead it was, for whatever reason, the sound of liquid hitting fabric. Come to think of it, the boardwalk here was unusually soft.

 

                When Keerava opened her eyes again, she found herself staring up at a ceiling with her head resting on a cheap pillow. Her knees were up to her chest, and she had her pants pulled just the tiniest bit down her thighs, just enough that there was nothing in the way when her stream started up again, making a pattering noise as it pooled on the Argonian’s bed. Not quite awake yet, Keerava took some time to realize what was happening. She had been left emptying herself for a good twenty seconds before she finally figured out that the noise of urine hitting mattress was not a normal feature of this room.

                Collecting all the willpower she could in her freshly-awakened state, she managed to cut off her stream, and as fast as possible kicked off and rolled into a sitting position, her feet ending up in the puddle she had just made. Her hands shot down to try to stop the rest of what needed to come out, but as soon as she tried to stand up, her hands were instantly soaked and several trails of urine seeped out between her fingers, dampening the bed further. This was surprising enough that just as soon as her hands found their way down, they were right back up again, and fell right back down into a sitting position.

                As soon as her ass hit the bed, her stream increased in power. Keerava tried to lift herself up to get anywhere but there, but she only succeeded in moving a few inches off the bed, still forcefully wetting it, before her arms gave out and she fell down again. All she could do was sigh and surrender herself to what was currently happening, so she gave a little push to maximize the force and speed with which she relieved herself, mainly to just get it done with as fast as possible. It didn’t take long at that point, and in another ten seconds Keerava’s torrent was reduced to the occasional drip.                 Once she figured she was done, she carefully got her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, removing all her clothes once she was upright.

                A damage inspection revealed that the bed was rather thoroughly destroyed – if it could be cleaned it would take far more energy than anyone at the inn could spare. Keerava’s pants had survived mostly unscathed, though there was a rather small wet spot on the crotch, and some other dark spots on the back from splash damage. One could not say the same of her panties, which received a good soaking while Keerava fought to remove them. The pants could be salvaged, and would be perfectly usable after being left to dry for a while. Everything else needed washing, though, even her shirt, which had a significant stain on the back as a result of her puddle creeping towards and under her while she was lying down.

                Fortunately, she seemed to have been woken up early – nobody else would be awake for a couple of hours yet, so there was plenty of time to clean up. There was a backlog of laundry anyways, so Keerava had to admit it was a rather well-timed wetting. And as she stood in her room, naked, finding her hand drifting down again, she also had to admit that Bjorn was probably right. Creepy, but right.

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