If your forced to stay in Morrowind and can’t kill your wife would you still fuck her?

What a delightfully brazen question, little one.

Does the idea of the passion that comes from extreme hatred excite you? Does the idea of us sparring with words, then our bodies, fill your belly with fluttering? Are you picturing it now? The way our bodies are intertwined as we fight for dominance, one atop the other, pulling hair, using teeth, hands everywhere they may go?

I admit, I feel the same way. The first Nord I ever shared a bed with was because we had started arguing over some trivial matter and it eventually resulted in the ripping of clothing and a most vigorous evening. By the end neither of us knowing quite what had started the argument.

Of course, with true loathing, that type of burning anger that can only be sated by the death of one or both of you, you do not forget why you were angry afterwards. Though I do expect that for those with sadistic or masocistic tendencies, such violent and dangerous relations could be exquisite.

And I am such an individual. I believe the act turns more into a power game. At least, that’s what the last year and a half of our marriage certainly became, particularly in the bedroom. It was always about trying to get the other to submit to something, anything. That’s what you wanted. Of course, it was also about stubborn refusal to do as the other wanted.

It helps that she is not unhandsome. Though her true personality is certainly not one to elicit passion. Neither of us wished to be the one to be seen as the undutiful spouse, however, so we continued night after night, sometimes into the day, in a contest of dutifulness. Not for any loyalty to our house, but out of hope of seeing the other one admit defeat of not wishing to continue.

Naturally, if I must maintain her as my wife, though that seems to hardly be a possibility, I would certainly resume our ritual of nightly duels.

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