Mercer, Brynjolf, and the New Girl

The New Girl

WARNING: Contains a really graphic male, male, female sex scene. If that’s not your thing, stop reading!

From the very first day she joined the Thieves Guild, Visara knew how things would end.

Brynjolf had tried to play his silly little game with her: corrupt guard at the gate, song of praise at the inn, and a dubious proposal to test her skills.

Visara didn’t fall for it.

Instead she pushed Brynjolf into the storage closet of the Bee and the Bard, rubbing a hand between his legs and sucking on his neck. The Nord thief had a big cock that hardened fast at Visara’s touch, stretching almost halfway down his thigh.

“Why steal a ring when I can have this?” Visara had teased before she dropped to her knees, pulled his cock free from his trousers, and sucked him off until he came hard in her mouth.

“That was nice, Lass,” Brynjolf had said, a little out of breath, when she stood up. “But I’m in the market for thieves, not lovers.”

“Can’t I be both?” Visara asked innocently, opening up both hands and revealing half a dozen jewels she’d lifted from Brynjolf’s pockets while she’d had his prick in her mouth. “I specialize in compelling distractions.”

Brynjolf looked at the jewels, then he looked at her—soaking up her nubile Breton body. Visara was nineteen years old, and every inch a lean, agile thief. She had auburn hair cut short so it fell just below her defined jawline. Her breasts were firm and large, and she wore a formfitting silk shirt that made it easy to see her Septim-sized nipples pushing against the fabric.

“Compelling, indeed.” Brynjolf muttered. “I guess we can talk to Mercer.”

“That’s what I thought.”


Mercer spoke to Visara’s face, but he kept his eyes planted firmly on her tits.

“Who taught you to steal?” he asked.

“Oh, I picked up little tricks here and there,” Isara said, keeping her back arched a little so Mercer got a good view. “Stealing is like fucking, in my experience.”

Mercer raised his eyebrow at that. “How do you mean?”

“The first time’s awkward and clumsy. But it feel so good, there’s incentive to get better.”

Brynjolf laughed. “See, Mercer?” he said. “Told you she was an original.”

Mercer fiddled with grip of the Dwemer sword at her hip. Visara could tell that he was a dangerous man—far more dangerous than the other guild rats hanging out in that Cistern. Sure, there were plenty of cutpurses and men with sticky fingers, but Mercer was a killer. That was clear.

It did not change Visara’s plan.

“It’s ok by me,” Mercer said. “We’ve needed a new seductress since that black-haired Bosmer killed Olaf and disappeared.”

“Uh, pretty sure it was Olaf who tried to kill Narova first, Mercer.” Brynjolf looked at Visara, scratching his beard. “Something about a nasty name she called him. Narova stabbed him in the eye with a lockpick. Messy deal.”

“Whatever,” Mercer said. “Get her some noble’s clothes and work on her accent. I’ll have a job for her when she’s done.”


The clothes were ordered special from Solitude. They arrived in a velvet-lined chest one week later. The entire gown was made of black silk—half a dozen long bolts cut and stitched into tight-fitting garment that hugged her breasts and whispered at the shapely curve of her hips and thighs.

“How did you get it to fit like this without measuring?” Visara asked, running her hands over the fabric. The dress was the only thing in the dim chamber beneath the cistern that wasn’t dirty or wet or unclean.

“Sizing people up is what I do best, Lass,” Brynjolf said.

“Fair enough,” Visara said.

She wondered if Brynjolf knew what she was after. Wondered if he was one step ahead. She decided not. Most men let their cocks do the thinking. Everything else was just an afterthought. Mercer and Brynjolf were good thieves, but they were men. And men would always suffer from a clouded kind of vision when their view included a voluptuous woman moving around inside of it.

That was the weakness that had kept Visara rich in coin and loose in morals for the last three years.

“We should let Mercer see,” Visara suggested.

Brynjolf hesitated.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s go to his quarters.”

Mercer’s chambers were rich beyond measure. Soft Telvanni carpets. Expertly crafted Vvardenfall furniture. Tapestries from Cyrodiil and pottery from High Rock. Visara did a few rough figures in her head and decided the fixtures alone were worth a hundred thousand Septims.

The thief-lord himself was seated behind an oak desk, writing a letter. He dropped the quill when Visara strode in with bouncing hips and shaking tits shake.

“Like what you see?”

Mercer coughed, but didn’t say anything.

“The dress came,” Brynjolf said for no good reason at all. Apparently, he had to justify his presence somehow.

Visara let the silence marinade for a little while, then she moved into the center of the room so both men could get a good look at her.

“I was thinking a demonstration was in order.”

“Of what?” Mercer asked gruffly.


She began to play with one of the silk cords that kept the top of my dress in place.

“Brynjolf,” Mercer said. “Leave.”

The Nord thief moved to go, but Visara stopped him with an open hand.

“I want him to stay,” she said. “Two is always more fun.”

They looked at each other briefly. Then back at Visara.

She undid the silk cord and slowly pulled the top of her dress to her waist. Her breasts slipped free. Then I squeezed them together and slowly—so very slowly—got down on my knees.

“I’m waiting,” she said.

Brynjolf and Mercer moved over to her as casually as possible. Then, being careful to keep their eyes fixed on the half-naked girl and not each other, they undid their belts and pulled out their cocks.

Brynjolf was bigger, but Mercer’s was much thicker and curved upwards. Visara felt herself getting wet just thinking about how good it would inside of her, pumping in and out.

Both men were already half-hard, but Visara took them in each hand and stroked them to full mast. Then she put on her innocent, good girl face. Looked at them each in the eye. And started sucking Mercer’s cock, bobbing up and down, slurping noisily and moaning.

“Gods,” he murmured.

After a little while, she switched to Brynjolf, working hard to push the length all the way down her throat. She massaged Mercer’s balls, running her index finger along the back while she worked. Visara let Brynjolf fall from her mouth after a while, then rubbed the tips of both their cocks against her rock hard nipples.

“Like my work so far?” she asked.

Both of them just nodded.

“Then I think it’s time for the both of you to do some work on me.” Visara stretched out on the carpet and gracefully pulled off her silk dress, revealing her nakedness beneath. She spread her legs, revealing a light patch of hair and a dripping pussy. “You can take turns, or you can do it together, but I want to come before either one of you gets inside me.”

Mercer dropped between her legs and starting licking her—moving his tongue in slow circles around her clit and then pushing his tongue inside. The man knew what he was about, and Visara felt an orgasm start to build after just a few minutes.

And feeling Brynjolf sucking on her nipples and massaging her breasts at the same time didn’t hurt, either. Visara had never had two men before—it was a strange and wonderful feeling to have two mouths touching your body, pleasuring you in different ways.

When she came, Visara dug her nails into Mercer’s hair and squeezed her head between her legs, shaking from the pleasure. Then pulled him up so she could kiss him and taste herself on his lips. That always turned her on. Mercer seemed to like it, too.

“You’re a dirty little girl, Visara,” he whispered.

“You have no idea.”

Visara turned over so she was on all fours and ran a hand along Brynjolf’s thigh. “I’m afraid Mercer deserves to go first, but you get to enjoy the view.”

They arranged themselves so Mercer could fuck her from behind while she continued sucking on Brynjolf’s cock. Visara kept her eyes locked on Brynjolf as Mercer rubbed the tip of his thick cock against the outside of her slit, then slowly pushed himself in.

“Ohhhhh,” Visara moaned, feeling herself get stretched out by the thief-lords girth. He started out slowly, knowing she would need some time to get used to him. Visara caught her breath and then put Brynjolf back into her mouth and started bobbing her head in time with Mercer’s thrusts.

Mercer put his powerful hands on her shoulders and started going harder—the sound of his balls slapping against her clit filled the room and made Visara shudder into a second orgasm.

Who said work can’t be fun?

After the orgasm subsided, she leaned forward so Mercer fell out of her, then before either of them could move she spun around and lowered herself onto Brynjolf. Now she could look Mercer in the eye while she fucked his lieutenant.

“Pull my hair,” Visara ordered Brynjolf.

He did so, arching Visara’s back so her breasts were propped up high.

“Now fuck my tits with that thick cock of yours, Mercer.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. The wetness from fucking her, and her own up and down motions made it easy for Mercer to get a good rhythm going.

“Gods,” Mercer gasped, “I’m going to….I’m going to…”

Visara pressed her tits together and gave Mercer a nice place to shoot his load—seven creamy spurts of pleasure all over her chest. She scooped some off her nipple and put it in her mouth. Then, right on cue, Brynjolf squeezed her ass, pushed himself all the way inside of her, and came as well. Visara liked how deep he got—her belly filling with warmth.

Visara rolled off of him, and took a few moments to catch her breath.

Neither of the two men said anything.

“Well, I’m assuming you’re both satisfied with my skills.” Visara slipped back into her silk dress and collected her sealskin boots from the floor. “I’ll let you two discuss where you want me next.”

“That’ll be fine, Lass,” Brynjolf said, as if she needed his permission for anything.

Visara closed the door behind her, but she didn’t head back to her bed in the common room. She went straight to the vault, making sure nobody saw her. While she walked, she fingered the two keys she’d stolen from Mercer and Brynjolf hidden in the folds of her dress.

The sex was fun. But cleaning out the Thieves Guild vault was a dream come true.

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One response to “Mercer, Brynjolf, and the New Girl”

  1. Carlos says:

    another great story with a great ending :)

Leave a Reply to Carlos