Miraak still wasn’t sure what to make of the strange man that had rescued him. Despite the two of them being mortal enemies mere days ago, the young mage cordially invited him to his home and what’s more had the indecency of using a shrinking serum on himself! The little thing seemed completely oblivious to the fact that Miraak intended to use and abuse him. But the bastard welcomed it!

"Right okay… Just remember.” Markus poked at the tip of the enormous dragonborn’s boot “You're supposed to be having fun with this. Not me. You.”

“You are bold to attempt to command me, dragonborn. But, as you have cut yourself down in size I see no reason not to partake in some well-earned entertainment.” Stated the now towering nord as Markus stared up from between his boots. Slowly one of those metallic behemoths would rise into the air, allowing the puny man to see its underside, the grime and dirt and dust, all sorts of debris stuck to the sole of that vast metal plane above him.

Slowly the boot would descend upon the small human, pressing him roughly down into the floor as Miraak rolled him left to right. "I suppose I can find enjoyment in such an activity." The former dragon priest stated. "You however have no such luck, I advise you begin licking, weak one."

“Weak one, yeah right.” Markus chuckled under his breath, far out of Miraak’s earshot. The little guy was certain Miraak would come round eventually; the fact that Markus wasn’t a stain already was proof enough for him. Outwardly, the little guy saluted. "Yes sir! Master Miraak sir!" And proceeded to do exactly as instructed.

Miraak seemed confused at the pure display of submission before him. “Fate is indeed a fickle thing, I should be ruling what is rightfully mine, yet I find myself here with you, cleaning my boots like a lowly servant.” He paused, shaking his head. “No, not like – as my lowly servant.”

"Weird, right?" Markus called out, grabbing the tip of the boot and nuzzling at it. "As dragonborn I should want to rule, dominate and devour, yet here I lay, the size of a common rat willingly worshipping a handsome dragonborn rival turned god. I cherish the opportunity master Miraak, I really do."

Trying his best to ignore the smaller dragonborn’s open enthusiasm at his situation, Miraak decided it was time to get comfortable. "Very well, seeing as you are so ready to service me, I suppose I should oblige you."

"Is the chair comfy? There’s some extra pillows in the cabinet over there and please feel free to help yourself to any tea you might find to your liking!~" Markus chirped, seemingly none worse for wear as he lapped at the massive dirty boot sole above.

"Your seating is...adequate for the moment, and I do not drink... Tea."

"Not just any tea! Crimson Nirnroot Tea! My special blend!" The little guy exclaimed. "Come on! I bet you haven't even tried the stuff, it tingles in your throat better than the finest mead in the land!" As soon as those words were spoken the weight upon Markus lifted, allowing the little man properly see his handiwork. There above him was a boot sole that was just as dirty as before, practically no difference had been made.

Miraak took note of this as he turned his boot around to inspect it. “Hmm, it seems with all your enthusiasm you were not up to the task, you should pray you perform better for what comes next.” Slowly Miraak brought his hand to his boot, and began to tug it off, freeing his feet from their metal prison. With a thud ringing in his ears Markus found himself between two toes, the big and index to be exact. "You know what to do."

Markus cheered at the gesture taking a deep breath and allowing Miraak's smell to enter his lungs. With renewed vigor the tiny dragonborn began to employ shouts, using unrelenting force to blow away the dirt and sweat and not hesitating to follow it up with fire breath to warm Miraak's feet up from the vicious cold outside. This proved a far more effective strategy than using his tongue. “God... you're a god.”

“I am your god, and soon to be god of Tamriel, and then perhaps of Nirn. But for now, your god will have to settle for some Crimson Nirnroot Tea". With unimaginable speed the fleshy walls Markus stood between closed in as Miraak squeezed his toes. The little man found himself pressed between two powerful, warm and foul-smelling surfaces, compressed and kneaded as the ginormous man above stared down amused. When the pressure relented Markus found that due to the sweat and force, he had gotten stuck to the side of one of his god’s toes, helpless and unable to do anything as Miraak began to walk towards the cabinet for his tea.

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A lovely sketchmission I got from  darkzeus of Miraak from Skyrim’s Dragonborn DLC!