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GOT: Wolf Becomes Stag 21 - The Demon Of Essos II
🕑 Added 2025-02-05 09:44:27 +0000 UTCThey didn't kill him.
A big mistake.
They simply chained him with larger chains that they used for the elephants. They threw him in a much stronger cage, meant to hold wild animals.
A big mistake.
When Robert woke up again, he was no longer the same man from the previous night. He'd grown stronger and the many bandages on his body held no meaning. His wounds had healed and his energy was at its peak.
Let's aim higher tonight.
Click!
Creak!
The chains gave way.
The metal bars bent away.
The guards standing in front of his cage stepped back in otherworldly fear. They didn't even scream, just gasped for air and fell, kneeling to the ground.
"Thank you." Robert grabbed their short swords, both of them, and stabbed them to death before they could make a sound.
That night, his goal was to kill Aegon, Oberyn, and Jon. Killing them was enough to end his troubles. The Golden Company was nothing without the pretender to lead them.
Paaaaa!
This time, someone saw him from a distance and blew the alerting horn.
They're prepared.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
He looked towards the direction of the sound and saw ten elephants charging towards him.
They knew I was going to get out?
Taking a deep breath, Robert stepped to the side of a weapon's rack outside a tent. He grabbed the spear from it and aimed it at an elephant. He pitted the creatures but now he had to hurt them to stop them.
Shwoooo!
The spear flew, slicing through the air, and making a sound. A moment later, the elephant in the middle screamed in pain as the spear blinded its one eye. It cried in pain and swayed left and right, bumping into the other elephants.
That was enough to disorient the charge. The space was tight to begin with as there were tents all around. The mahout got busy trying to control the elephants.
And Robert got busy killing.
He avoided the mistakes of the previous night and focused on moving towards the golden tent. He grabbed whatever weapon he got his hands on and used it. He ignored the arrows that lodged into his flesh and just slaughtered the men who stood in his way.
His only goal was to kill three men, not the entire Golden Company.
Despite the now armored men, Robert's arms drew blood with each strike. Each swing meant certain death. It was a dance of blood and flesh, and in the midst of it all was one bloodied demon, tall and huge, roaring like a maddened animal.
The faint-hearted ones simply gave up and never approached. The ones with some skills managed to dodge at times but eventually succumbed. Their crowding hindered their own movements while Robert was free to aim at any man.
"You're a monster, Robert!"
"Oh?" Robert halted immediately and focused on the voice from the side. "Finally out of your hole."
"WHAT ARE YOU?"
Robert laughed. He knew he looked like a monster now. Unhindered despite the arrows stuck in his back, wounds all over him bleeding. "I'll tell you when I find out. Now, are you going to use that little spear, Oberyn?"
"Oh, I'm going to use it to end your vile existence," Oberyn declared and made a run towards Robert, his famed spear in his hands, his body covered in red-ish armor. "You will die to—"
Clank!
Robert didn't even move.
Robert didn't even flinch.
He only shifted his head a little sideways and caught Oberyn's spear as it came thrusting towards him. On the other edge was Oberyn, shocked beyond belief, dangling from his spear.
"You always were arrogant."
Robert swung the blade in the other hand. He was faster than Oberyn could react to and connected with Oberyn's dangling legs.
Thud!
The pain registered in the Dornishman's mind. His grip loosened from the famous spear and he fell on the ground, but not on his feet, for he had none.
Both his legs tumbled away, sliced perfectly from his knees. Blood gushed out as Oberyn stared at his open wound, too shocked by the sudden change of events. A lot of regret swept through his mind.
Robert shook his head and stepped closer to Oberyn, who tried to scoot away with his arms, desperate for a way to save himself.
"All I wanted from Dorne was peace." Robert fumed and used Oberyn's spear. He stabbed it down right into his groin and left it standing there, pinning him to the ground.
"Aaaaaah!" Oberyn screamed in pain.
"I brought the Mountain to you." Robert walked to the side of Oberyn's flailing body, writhing in pain, only his arms still energetic enough to move. "All I ever wanted was peace across the fucking realm! Ha!"
Aye, he was the demon for them.
He did what a demon would.
He stomped his right foot right atop Oberyn's face. As a man who could fight and push back an elephant, his stomp was harsher than an elephant’s.
"Ha!"
Oberyn's face caved in, starting with his nose that got crushed. Then his upper jaw and cheekbones, then all his teeth, his eye sockets cracked, and before Robert knew it, his foot stood in a gooey mess of brain matter and blood.
Following that, Robert simply stood there for a while and looked at the pale faces around him. He'd been completely surrounded by now, and the golden tent was beyond his reach. Oberyn was dead but it didn't change much. The pretender needed to die.
"You could hand me the pretender and Jon. But I know you won't." Robert grabbed Oberyn's spear this time. "Let's continue then."
And they did continue.
No more elephants. No more horses. Just men circling around Robert and trying to stab him with whatever they had in their hands. Not many succeeded before getting their heads chopped off. But enough did to cause the King of Westeros to fall to his knees.
He kept fighting even then, eventually exhausting himself to a blackout.
What happened after that, he had no clue.
But that night, 1200 died.
####
It was dark.
It felt heavy.
It felt confining.
Mentally, Robert became aware that he'd woken up but unlike last time, he couldn't open his eyes and move his body freely.
Did they bury me?
Just then, he heard a scraping sound from above him. It sounded like someone shoveling dirt. So, he used all his strength to wriggle himself and make some room. It wasn't too hard for he had once again grown stronger.
He didn't know yet by how much, but he knew there were changes within him. He was able to move his fist up and down, and eventually make a shovel out of his own hand.
He began digging himself upward slowly to get out. The soil was loose, thankfully, and now he was certain he'd been buried. Slowly, he dug himself out and the sound of the shovel also increased.
Woosh!
At last, he felt a whiff of fresh air and a shovel removed the soil covering his face. He saw the sky reaching sunset, slightly red-hued. A face was visible, the man shoveling—Jaqen.
"Hah!" Robert exhaled a deep breath and fully pulled himself out of the soil.
"Valar Morghulis."
Robert didn't respond to his greeting. "They buried me?"
"A man thought you lost to death."
"Wrong, clearly," he replied and let himself fall flat on the ground. He stared at the sky tiredly, hungry even. "How long do I have to keep doing this?"
"A man has not long. They pack their things, whispering of curses and ill omens. Some say the pretender offends the gods. Others see a demon, perhaps a god, in you. The camp is split."
Robert nodded as he'd have thought the same if he'd been one of them. "Let's get this started then."
Not even a scratch on him, Robert stood up to his fool height. Although his clothes remained covered in dirt and dried blood, he felt refreshed. "I'm not stopping until I have the pretender and Jon's head."
"A man should try persuasion. Offer mercy, a trade—pretender and Jon for their lives. Those who fought you yesterday swore to the pretender, and now they lie dead, never to swear again."
Lazily, Robert began walking towards the camp he saw far in the distance. "I'll try."
He personally didn't know what was the record for kills by a single man but he was certain he'd broken it. He clenched his fist and looked at his knuckles turn white. The strength was enough to crush a stone into powder with ease.
What am I? he asked himself. How much stronger can I get?
Soon enough, Robert arrived at the guarded entrance of the Golden Company's camp. Though at the first sight of him, the sentries ran into the camp instead of facing him.
This is new.
Robert grabbed a sword that the sentries had left behind and walked into the camp.
"No!"
"Demon!"
Various cries were heard but nobody attacked him. Heck, the men who held any weapons instantly threw them away and stepped further back.
It might work this time.
Non-stop, without facing any challenges, Robert passed the blood-soaked grounds he had decorated over the last two nights and finally stood in front of the golden tent. Nobody was guarding it that night.
"Give me the pretender and Jon, and you can walk away with your lives. Defy me, and I'll butcher the lot of you!" Robert roared. "I will count to ten!"
I'm hungry.
"One!"
"Two!"
A lot of frantic activities became audible throughout the camp. A few men in golden armor came running but instead of fighting Robert, they ran into the golden tent.
"Five!"
"Six!"
Woosh!
The curtained entrance of the golden tent was spread open. The men who'd run in before came back out, pushing and shoving blue-haired Aegon and Jon Connington.
"I thought you'd have run off by now." Robert felt pleased at the positive result. "Make them kneel."
Thud!
The men of the Golden Company obeyed Robert and kicked the back of the knees of Aegon and Jon. The two men fell down with a painful thud.
"No, shove their faces into the dirt."
Thud!
The men of the Golden Company obeyed him like his word was the law. In no time Aegon and Jon had their faces coated in dirt.
"Didn't I say? I'd return with your heads. Shame about Oberyn—I crushed his to bits. But you two—I'll have your heads preserved and brought to King's Landing."
With that, Robert lifted his sword and walked beside Jon Connington's prone body. He put one foot on the man's back and then aimed his blade at the neck.
"Any last words?" He asked.
"You're a demon," Jon barked.
Woosh!
Robert beheaded the man with ease. Then he walked over to Aegon and pressed his foot much harder on his back. Hearing the cracks of his ribs, he chuckled.
"You'd have lived a much longer life if you hadn't come after me," Robert said and aimed at the neck. "Ambitious lot, you Targaryens… that is if you are one."
"What are you?" Aegon growled, fear, panic, and regret visible on his face. If hopelessness had a face, this was it. "H-How did you… How can you be so…"
"God knows."
Woosh!
Young Griff, the supposed Aegon VI, Pretender, supposed Prince—His head rolled with an expression that would be remembered for centuries to come. The face of defeat, loss, and hopelessness.
A rising, hopeful king, now a mockery for the bards to make songs on.
Robert breathed out tiredly and walked into the golden tent.
"Oh?"
To his surprise, he found another man.
"You must be the Captain-General of the Golden Company." Robert didn't even bother looking at the man, cowering in one corner. "Where is the chest?"
"T-There!"
Robert followed the direction and quickly began packing for his journey ahead. He also grabbed a new set of clothes, boots, and a fine sword. He prepared multiple pouches of gold in various currencies for himself and hid some inside his breeches too. He then packed the heads of Jon and Aegon in sacks and tied them neatly after sealing the bleeding area with fire and wax.
Finally, he grabbed Oberyn's spear that just lay there on the side.
"It seems the end of the Martells is not too far," he muttered and looked at the Captain General. "How are you connected to Westeros?"
"M-My great-grandsire rise in First Blackfyre Rebellion."
Woosh!
Robert threw the spear at the Captain General and killed him on the spot.
"Decades have passed yet their ambition remains."
With that, he grabbed an apple in a nearby basket and walked out of the tent. Although his body was still dirty and reeked of blood, his clothes were clean.
"Jaqen." Robert found the Faceless man waiting for him outside the tent. "Where can I get these heads stuffed and preserved?"
"A man would need an alchemist for such a thing. In Volantis, they are many."
"Volantis it is then." Robert began walking towards the camp's exit. He knew the Selhorys town was nearby so he hoped to stay the night there.
He didn't bother with the Golden Company. Their existence didn't concern him and left them to their own devices.
Seeing that Jaqen was still following him, Robert decided to use him for information. "Where is the largest fighting pit in Essos?"
"That would be in Meereen."
"Oh?" Robert hummed and scratched his unkempt beard. "Last I heard of the Mother of Dragons, she departed Qarth. Where is she now?"
"A girl has taken Astapor and Yunkai, her Unsullied marching at her word," Jaqen said.
She's going for Meereen next?
Suddenly, Robert had an idea. Since he was already in Essos, it was better to finish the job for good. Much before it reaches his borders.
"Jaqen, you said you're here to guide me through Essos. Then take me to Meereen and aid me become a fighter in their largest pit?"
"A man has a desire, he will take you to Meereen."
"Brilliant!" Robert roared, his gaze fixed on the town in the distance. "But before that, find me an alchemist."
####
Tired, Robert entered Selhorys, a walled Volantene town. It was grand, larger than even King's Landing and the Oldtown, and yet it was called a mere town. Jaqen left him as soon as they entered the town.
Entering the town wasn't hard with the gold he'd gathered from the Golden Company. But he still looked rather bloodied, his clothes fresh but reeking from the slaughter he had unleashed.
He walked the cobbled paths, admiring the towers and domes spread throughout. The sandstone walls sheltered shops, stalls, and storehouses along the piers. But Robert continued walking until he arrived in front of a dockside brothel that looked quite well maintained, its entrance well-lit with lanterns made of colored glass.
This'll do. Robert walked into the establishment, his nose was instantly attacked with erotic spices. There were silken curtains all around, the floor covered in fine tiles, and murals of naked women lined the walls.
It being evening, there were a lot of men entering and leaving the premises, women clad in loose but beautiful garments led someone in or out at times, and others welcoming customers.
Whores of all kinds were there. Young ones, old ones, petite ones, fat ones, black-haired, blonde-haired, dark-skinned, pale-skinned—a heaven for a whore loving bastard. And to that establishment's luck that evening, this was indeed the whore-loving Robert.
"Skoros kostagon nyke jiōragon ao?"
"Hah?" Robert grunted, turning his gaze downward, his presence looming over all in the room. The fine, middle-aged woman seemed to be a brothel keeper. She spoke Valyrian, and while Robert didn't know the full language, he knew the words. "Aye, give me a fine room with a bath, and a lass to scrub the grime off me."
Quickly, the woman began speaking a broken, accented Common Tongue. "Room, bath, girl—money?"
Robert presented her with a few Honors, the currency of Volantis.
The woman beamed with a smile right away and pointed around at various girls walking by, some coming over at her signal. "Which girl?"
Robert scratched his unkempt beard and looked at the fine ladies. However, one stood out like a sore thumb and grabbed his attention. She looked younger than other whores, slim and beautiful, with long silvery hair. Her eyes were blue and her skin pale as snow, her loose, silver gown clung to her body with thin straps on her shoulder, giving an ample view of her large bosom.
"She'll do." Robert pointed at the girl, the silver-haired whore.
Quickly, the brothel keeper ordered the silver-haired girl in Valyrian.
"This way." The silver-haired girl, smiling, approached Robert and wrapped her arm around his mighty one, unbothered by the stench of death. She was delicately sized against him as most girls, but she was tall, similar to Catelyn. He let her drag him upstairs to a room.
Before he knew it, he was ushered into a comfortably sized room with a canopied bed at one end, and a tub with water on the other. There was also a small table and chair beside one wall. The lone window was closed, curtains pulled over it.
The light was ample, flickering, and bright.
"At last, a bloody bath," Robert tiredly cursed and lifted his tunic, throwing it away. Then he discarded his breeches and walked completely bare towards the wooden, round bathtub with steaming hot water. His feet left loud thuds on the wooden floor, and he didn't really bother about nudity while in the presence of a whore.
Just as he stepped into the tub, he looked at the silver-haired girl, her eyes tracing his large frame from top to bottom. From his muscled shoulders to his impossible-to-completely-erase belly, his muscled legs, and then… the impressively large tool.
"You have no wounds, Master," she spoke, her Common Tongue accented but accurate.
Robert chuckled and sat down in the tub, displacing enough water that some fell out. "Hah! Aye, no wounds for it was the blood of my enemies. Come, scrub me."
The girl quickly grabbed the scrub cloth and stepped behind Robert outside the tub. Still clothed, she used her slender arms to scrub over his shoulder, reaching all the way to his belly while her face constantly neared his ear, her soft breaths audible.
"What's your name?" Robert asked.
"Rhaea, Master."
"Well, Rhaea, use a bit more strength in those scrubs," Robert ordered and relaxed in the water, legs sprawled, arms spread on the edge of the tub, his head tilted back.
It being her job, Rhaea finished scrubbing his chest, belly, and then arms one by one.
While a little crass, this was no longer the old, whore mongering Robert who saw nothing in a woman but her cunt. To a small degree, he sympathized with Rhaea, having to do what she was doing for him every single day with no chance of ever escaping it. Such was life under slavery. While he abhorred it, he had no grand ambitions to erase slavery from the world. What happened in Essos was none of his business.
"Enough. Join me in the water now," he ordered.
Rhaea was quick to walk around the tub again and stand in Robert's sight. Then, she pushed the thin straps of her gown over her shoulders and let the silver cloth fall and pool around her delicate, pale feet.
"Beautiful," he instinctively praised.
Slim and beautiful, her waist was a tight curve, her hips slightly wider, round, and appetizing. Her breasts were voluptuous, enough for him to knead with the full grip of his mighty hand, her pink nipples tight and tense already, taut outwards. The tight slit between her legs was neatly bald, that flower peeking through the thigh gap.
Rhaea’s dainty pale feet stepped into the warm water and spread her legs to try and straddle Robert, thinking he wanted her to fulfill her services in the water. Her charming face carried a hint of determination after seeing how large Robert truly was.
But instead, Robert caught her hand, stopping her and making her turn around. He pulled her to sit between his legs and lean back into his chest. His arms suddenly hugged her body from underneath her armpits; his mighty, muscular arms squeezing her as if seeking her warmth. Her shimmering breasts spilled above.
He took a deep breath of her scented hair; a small bit of comfort and indulgence.
"I know…" Robert muttered near her ear. "I know most men probably pounce on you the moment you stand bare. Aye, I'm tempted, but I have the whole night for that. Right now I'm seeking comfort, not a cunt."
"Hehe." Rhaea giggled for the first time. Her pounding heart slowly relaxed in her chest. She'd seen far too many vile men to feel comfortable in such a position where she couldn't even look at the man. It was a vulnerable position, especially with a man of Robert's size. "You're different. You don't act like a common sellsword or…"
"Damn right, woman. I'm no common man," Robert praised himself and eased his grip on her body. He relaxed back and began kneading her supple breasts.
Robert sunk his fingers into that honey-like softness, shaping her sweetly curving mounds, molding them to his need. They were voluptuous, enough for both his hands to feel the pale mounds of fragrant flesh comfortably filling up his palms. He played with her nipples between his fingers and kissed her neck as he took in her scented perfume. He started to feel the craving within him, wanting to be engulfed by this beauty’s embrace.
It genuinely confused him that whores could be this beautiful; sweet fairy and alluring siren, wrapped up in one ethereal body. In Westeros, she'd have been the focus of half the realm. Every knight and lord would want to bind her in a union, exchanging vows in front of the Septon.
"How old are you, Rhaea?"
"Mmm…" Rhaea, clearly aroused by his pinches on her pink tips, murmured in response. "Two and twenty."
Robert's rapidly growing erection swelled to full mast as he felt her velvety skin against it. It throbbed on her back, as if calling out for her attention.
"Where are you from?"
"Lys."
Robert stopped teasing her aching peaks and slid one hand between her legs. He felt her feminine core, warm and tight enough for his pleasure. He trailed his finger on her slit, tickling in between her heavenly gates, and felt a twitch in response.
"Ah, Lys," Robert remembered Lynesse. "Let's move on to the bed."
Robert stood up swiftly and offered a hand to help her up too. He stepped out of the tub and pulled her along eagerly before throwing her onto the soft bed on her back.
The young woman giggled sweetly as her body bounced a little on the bed. Her striking blue eyes looked at him with a seductive gaze. She wiggled her legs, scooting up to lay her head on the pillows, her shimmering hair spread like a halo over her.
Robert crawled on top of her and admired her exquisite body, her now rosy face contrasting with her white hair was a sight he thought he'd never see after the end of Targaryens. Her skin was soft and creamy, her body perfect in every way. He had to agree that Valyrians were blessed with beauty, even their descendants were this beautiful.
The urge to devour her whole was already tugging at his loins, persistently pushing him to stop admiring and take her right then and there.
"Don't mind if I'm a little rough."
Robert knelt between her legs, spreading them slowly as his palms tasted the smooth silky skin of her toned calves and squishy thighs. He leaned forward over her small frame, his mouth savoring her plump mound. He could feel her body trembling as he suckled, rolling her hardened nipple gently with his tongue.
“Ummmpph…” Rhaea mewled.
He loved the whines she made while he spoiled her pale skin with red marks, framing her hardened peak with imprints of his teeth. He licked up her slender neck, tasting her quivering body and reaching for her glistening lips.
His swollen member, meanwhile, probed the entrance of her femininity. His girthly cunt-tamer teased her with what was about to come, pressing onto her soaked portals and teasing her sensitive little nub as it rubbed up and down. His bulbous crown parted her needy lower lips gently each time, peeking in ever so lightly.
"Y-You're big, Master," Rhaea murmured, watching his big body loom over her, feeling stretched open by the weight of his pelvis between her legs.
"Aye… so they say," Robert smirked a little with pride, then started lowering his hips to push into her sweltering depths.
He carefully pushed past her resisting muscles, feeling the tight, gripping sensation struggle to stretch around his girth. The lubrication from her body slowly seeped through, slathering around his cock with silky warmth. He groaned at how unyielding her smothering walls were. The otherworldly sensation was too good. He was so helplessly aroused by the slender body impaled on his cock that he felt almost out of his mind, couldn't imagine lasting long.
“Oh Gods!” Rhaea let out a gasping wince as Robert pushed in bit by bit.
She could feel her petals stretched beyond anything she had ever felt before. The slight pain and burst of pleasure had been unexpected, and when it slowly came spearing in, she let out another moan of pleasure. He was still quite a few inches from being completely inside her, but she already felt utterly full. Her small palms gripped his large arms, instinctively struggling to accept all of him.
But Robert grabbed her hands and threw them above her head, keeping them there with his wide palm locking her wrists together. He looked at her face, scrunching his brows as he felt the tightness of her cunt suffocating his throbbing hardness. He kept pushing in, inch by agonizing inch, and watching her blue eyes clenched shut.
After what felt like days of struggling, finally, his restless cockhead felt the deep end of her pleasurable maze. Robert’s titan-sized cock was fully inside the quivering woman. Not wanting to wait anymore, he started thrusting, craving to feel every nook and cranny of her massaging walls. He showed no mercy, and he saw no reason to.
“Ooohh… Master! Yes, Yo—ur so… Big! So—Good!” Rhaea’s moan changed in pitch, gasping with each of his thrusts. She felt nothing but the cock driving roughly in and out of her pussy, grinding in and out with an ever-increasing pace.
Robert's plunges kept pushing her lighter body upwards on the bed, further and further until her head started hitting the headboard of the bed. But he didn’t care, thoroughly ravishing the beauty under him. He shoved in as deep as he could, hard and relentless. His cock struck the entrance of her womb over and over, his pelvis slapping onto her reddened flesh.
“Ah Ah Ah….. Mast—tahhh! Take meehhh yes…!” Rhaea started to babble incoherently, praising and worshiping her master for the night. But she had no idea what she was saying and neither did anyone else, drawing in the blissful strikes of his cock on her cervix.
At that point, Robert felt like he needed more.
Reluctantly, he stopped drilling into Rhaea’s soaking pussy, and rolled back of her sensually, heaving body.
He pulled Rhaea up to sit, while he lay down on the bed, head towards the footside. He spread his legs and guided her with his rough palms on her glistening, soft hips. He pulled her down to sit on his lap, his cock piercing her from below like a blunt pike between her marshmallowy thighs.
“Oooh!!” Rhaea threw her head back and cried out. That stuffing sensation once again threatened to split her apart, her hands clenching the headboard behind her with a tight grip.
Robert’s hands clenched harder on the sides of her waist, his fingers leaving red, possessive marks. He commanded her body to move up and down with his hands, his hips thrusting up repeatedly like a madman. He was going to make her fuck herself on his jolting cock, utterly enjoying each moment. The sight of his immense cock disappearing into that flushed pussy excited him; her breasts, even more magnificent as they jolted and thrashed about.
His whore, stuffed utterly to breaking point with cock.
Rhaea gripped the headboard even harder and used it to hoist herself up and down on his unrelenting cock. Robert’s large hand gripping her waist made her feel so delicate, a doll willingly bent to his will.
She loved the way her petals stretched, sliding over the bumps of his large cock, feeling thoroughly aroused. She wanted more and more of that feeling, jolting up and down on her knees, chasing that wondrous feeling as she started to sweat.
Eventually, Rhaea felt the exhaustion, her knees buckling when she moved. But she didn’t want to stop, not when the source of her pleasure was still standing strong between her weak legs. She leaned down and hugged Robert's face, smothering him between her cloud-like breasts and her chin. She allowed him to take control, his majestic cock churning up into her persistently.
Robert made her stay like that, his hands clenching her round soft ass while his cock still pistoned upwards into her furnace. He easily slammed her lower body up and down on his cock, striking deep, so deep she didn't know it was even possible. Her weight was nothing for him to play with.
The bed loudly creaked, as if it could break at any moment.
Robert, like the beast he was, kept going for more than an hour. Even when she had climaxed thrice, even when she started begging for mercy in a sinful contradicting tone, even when all that came out of her were whispering, throaty moans. He bit her tender swells but never kissed her lips. He fucked her wildly, spoiling the beauty into a blathering mess.
Rhaea felt shocked by how a man could hold so much strength and desire. She feels sore and her pussy was ruined for good. Her nails scratched his back in utter ecstasy, hugging him tighter onto her bosom. Her back stiffened up uncontrollably, overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure coursing through her body.
“Ahhhhhhhh!! Go–ods!!” With one last, loud cry for deliverance, she came bursting forth like an unholy fountain. Almost passing out and moaning onto the crook of his neck, shivering from the pure bliss.
She was so loud Robert knew the entire building heard her.
Finally, Robert rolled her nearly-limp body off his cock with ease and stood between her legs on his knees, her gaping, rosy cunt thoroughly swollen and flushed.
He stroked himself quickly, capturing that last threshold of pure pleasure. Grimacing, he unleashed massive blobs of load all over her pale, heaving belly, her tits, her face, and her silky hair. So many strings of cum splattered out that he himself felt shocked by his pent-up need.
Feeling the exhaustion seeping into his bones, he dropped his body down beside her.
Rhaea, knowing her duty, crawled to the side of his waist and used a cloth to clean him, something of an extra service for such a good fuck. Once she cleaned herself too, she also plopped down beside his large frame, hugging his body and resting her face on his shoulder.
She kissed his bearded cheek and giggled. "This was the most amazing night of my life."
Robert laughed and used his feet to pull up the quilt over them. Then he hugged her delicate body, relishing the warmth and the calm of the night. "Such words from a whore?"
"So what if we serve men? We have desires too. It becomes monotonous over time, aiding men to their completion while we… sleep cold every night," Rhaea said, her soft fingers combing through his beard. "Who are you?"
Robert frowned a little. "Why do you ask?"
"You… feel different. I saw you enter the brothel and unlike men who ogle at tits, you looked at the guard. Then you didn't haggle and… Nobody before asked me for my name."
With a slight chuckle, Robert caressed her naked back under the quilt and looked at her pretty face. She was curious, an unwise trait for a whore. He reckoned she was young, that's why.
"Tell me, what's the price of your freedom?"
Rhaea's eyes widened, somewhat excitedly. "Y-You wish to keep me?"
"To set you free. After that, go where you will—follow me or sail back to Lys, it’s your choice. But know this—my road is hard, full of blood and battle, for I'm headed to Meereen."
"Meereen?" Rhaea exclaimed. "Why there? That's… Slaver's Bay."
He didn't answer and continued speaking.
"If you choose to follow me, you’ll have food, safety, and well… my bed. When my work is done in Meereen, you can come with me to a quieter place, and find yourself an honorable man, if that’s what you want," Robert offered her.
After having bedded her and seen her personality, leaving her enslaved simply didn't feel right. If he'd never known her, he'd have walked right past her. Now… he couldn't. That honorable side of his psyche wouldn't allow it.
Dumbstruck by that sudden offer, Rhaea felt speechless. She knew what Robert meant by a quieter place. He was from Westeros so of course he'd take her there.
She wondered if Robert was some Lord or a Knight. Ignoring his brutish roughness in bed, the way he spoke and treated her, did seem like that.
"Can I think about it, Master?"
"Go ahead, we got all night," Robert replied and shut his eyes. "And don't call me Master. Where I'm from, slavery is punishable by death or exile."
"Then what do I call you?"
"Ned… Call me Ned."
________________
A/N: The Silver-Haired Whore is a canon character that appeared in the book and the show. I just gave her a name. It's the whore that Ser Jorah went to so he could feel like he was banging Daenerys. XD
Fun Fact: Robert has now cucked the poor Jorah twice already. Once with Lynesse, now with Silver-Haired Whore, and sadly for him, soon Daenerys too.
________________
Question: Should Robert claim the dragons? (I may have asked this before but I can't remember.)
Choice 1: Yes
Choice 2: No
Comments
Razvan Peles
Tftc
Michael lamb
1
Taim Koukach
2
Mintcakes
1
Ash01
1
Darth Bane
1
Goxo
1.
BLazeSavage
1
Derek Elodio
2
Grey Jack
1.
Huntzman
1
BYMZ
1. Just to spite Danaerys.
First drunken immortal
2
snapg00
I don’t think he should claim the dragons. He’s already the big boss, like JohnnyNott said. He should defo bang Dany tho.
S
2
Kali Creation
1
Tiago Mieres
2 Robert dont needs dragons
Embo
1
LuciferDFallN1
1 - the idea of "I fuck Daenerys so I can control her dragons" was proven to be bs in Golden Lion... Besides no one will ever dare to question his rule with fire breathing monsters at his command
Fran
2
Fourteen
2 unless by dragons we mean Denerys
Luckybirdpoop
2.
TheKidFromNY
2
NeyDay
2
Orion Chung
1
woody wolff
1
JohnnyNott
2. Doesn't need a dragon to be on top
earlyriser
2
Bladesunder
1
Cup of Happy
1
Caimbeul
He should claim Daenerys and through her has dragons
MrPlotThickens
lol
Abel mi
Nedbert: what is my purpose ? The gods: cuck jorah mormont
David Petroka
No, let him stay as he Is, fucking badass without dragons, he dosnt need them
Abel mi
Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes
Antonio David Gutiérrez
1
