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The Northern Tyrant [Game of Thrones] Chapter 2 - She-Wolf & Treason
🕑 Added 2025-04-21 20:07:27 +0000 UTCBalls deep in Ros, clamped from all sides by her shuddering walls, continuously creaming on him, Wylis froze in place. Despite the red-haire
Balls deep in Ros, clamped from all sides by her shuddering walls, continuously creaming on him, Wylis froze in place. Despite the red-haired beauty, her fantastic tits bare right there, he stared into empty space—the three choices.
[Choice 1: Earthbending
Choice 2: Metalbending
Choice 3: Sandbending]
What is this?
Sure, he recognised those words. Although it had been a little more than four years since he arrived in that world, the memories of the past life were completely intact. And by now he simply believed that this was all real.
Earthbending?
It was a power that let one manipulate dirt, stones, the very earth. The other two were also self-explanatory. But Wylis knew that Earthbending was the most useful of them all. While Metalbending could help in battles and forging, that was it. Sandbending was even more useless. But Earthbending could be used to create and destroy structures, or maybe trip an entire cavalry charge.
Wait, is this even real?
He quickly picked the Earthbending option, or rather thought about it with the intent to pick it.
[Earthbending Choice Taken!]
[The Tyrant's Squire is Updated.]
[The Tyrant's Squire Activated - Welcome to the first step towards the path of a Tyrant]
[Strength - Might require murder! Defeat foes stronger than you and grow.
Wealth - Might alone isn't enough. Complete Quests for clues towards greater wealth.
Legacy(Unlocked) (Trueborn & Bastards) - A Tyrant is born not from name but fame. Spread the name and the seed, Trueborns or Bastards.
-> Trueborn - Each Trueborn adds 5 years to lifespan and unwavering loyalty.
-> Bastards - Each Bastard adds 1 year to lifespan and unwavering loyalty.Shop - A Tyrant needs resources, and resources have a price. The price is life—lifespan.
Quest - Rise from the lowest. Become a Squire.
Goal - Empires of Crassus and Rockefeller fell. Their names, mere words in books. Build a name and legacy that'll stand the test of time.
Current Status - Forgettable Pest (Legacy Duration - 3 Years)]
What in the—
Wylis froze, almost overwhelmed by the amount of information that came out of nowhere. His hips stopped moving, too engrossed in the fantastical, magical thing.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
Just then, loud knocks resounded on the door.
"WYLIS! You horny bastard! Open the fucking door! I know you're in there!"
Fuck! Wylis woke up from the stupor right away and pulled out of Ros' scorching hot walls. She was still a whimpering mess, drenched in her release. Sadly, he'd remained unsatisfied.
"WYLIS!" The loud, feminine but raspy voice continued to echo from outside. "I swear, if you don't open the door, I'll break it!"
"Tsk… The bitch's here." Wylis sighed and quickly slipped his clothes back on and took out some silver coins from his pouch. "Apologies, Ros, but I must take my leave. Maybe I'll come back again someday."
With a sigh, Ros sat back up, giggling. Her big eyes looked up sultrily at Wylis' body, and his face. She already knew he was possibly the tallest, the strongest, and among the most handsome customers she'd ever get in her life.
"Yes, we were only beginning," Ros said and only picked one single coin from his palm. "This will suffice. It's not often men can make me feel... such pleasure. I felt as if I were the one paying, not the one being paid."
Wait, am I the whore then?
Awkwardly, Wylis placed the remaining coins back in his pocket and walked towards the door.
"WYLIS! OP—"
Creak!
Wylis slung the door open and stared at his closest friend and also the bane of his existence. Long brown hair, slim as a dancer, big grey eyes with those thin brows frowning, expressions intense with that small pout. Her arms were crossed and she didn't budge even after the door opened.
"Move," Wylis said.
Lyanna Stark sneered, looking up at him. While most men and women in Winterfell feared Wylis for his height, Lyanna was the opposite. She was far too brash and casual around him. Despite only reaching the middle of his chest, she glared up. "What were you doing?"
Wylis smirked and shrugged. "It's nothing. Only came to ask Ros for the recipe for a fine pie."
Pat!
Lyanna smacked her fist into his chest. "I specifically told you not to do this. Seriously? Whores?"
Wylis scoffed and in return, raised his hand to her head and using two meaty fingers, flicked at the center of her pale forehead, burning a red mark there.
"Ah!" Lyanna stumbled back, clutching her forehead. She hated it whenever Wylis did that.
"Lyanna, I'm eight and ten, and I have fucking needs—literally. The last time I tried with the innkeeper's daughter, you barged in. And then with the farmer's widow—I'm a man, for gods' sake. You can't be cockblocking me like this all the time."
Lyanna’s cheeks flushed at Wylis’ bluntness, but she was still the proud, the famous Lyanna Stark. "Still, you shouldn’t. You’ll be one of the finest knights in Westeros—save yourself for some sweet maiden, not some common whore. Don’t turn out like Robert, chasing after anything with a pulse."
"Ah, here we go again, talking about Robert." Wylis rolled his eyes and started walking. "At this point, you may as well just give in to the betrothal. Lord Stark's not about to change his mind."
"So what?" Lyanna sneered and chased after Wylis, soon walking side by side, looking odd in the Winter Town. "I know exactly what kind of man Robert is. How could my father do this to me? He sold me to some filthy whoremonger. Was that all I ever was to him? A pawn? What happened to all those sweet words, to the doting? Calling me princess like it meant something. You know what... never mind. Not here."
Lyanna grabbed Wylis' arm and pulled him along to move faster. Quickly, she brought him back into the Winterfell castle, and then into Godswood. Finally, in front of the ancient Weirwood tree with a creepy smiling face, she sat down.
"I've heard whispers," Lyanna said, her voice low. "Robert's already fathered a bastard in the Vale."
To be honest, Wylis wasn't as attentive to her words. Nothing she said was new or surprising. What he wanted was to be left alone so he could check what all that Tyrant's Squire thing was about. Did he really gain Earthbending?
"Not that unexpected," Wylis murmured without thinking. He also went ahead and sat down beside her, leaning his back against the tree. Although the face on it was creepy, he somehow felt calm near it.
"We have no choice, Wylis. We must find a way to break this betrothal."
Wylis frowned at her words. "'We' you say? As far as I’m concerned, I’m still mucking out stables, not wearing fine silks. I can’t even believe Lord Stark lets you dance around me."
"Who's dancing?" She scoffed, but made no move to leave his side. She had few friends in Winterfell, and Wylis was the only one who'd ever stood by her. He’d pulled her out of more tavern brawls and messes than she could count. "Sure, a stableboy who can best the best of men. I don't get Father... He should have made you his squire long ago."
Stableboy, ha? Four years and still no change. Wylis remembered the Quest. He needed to become a squire quickly. Being 18 already, he was already a few years late. Lord Stark doesn't seem to care about me at all.
"Well, there's always the option to find a better man than Robert, both in name, fame, honor, and status, and seduce him. As for Lord Stark, I’d say he’s only trying to build stronger bonds with the South. It’s likely why Brandon’s betrothed to that Tully girl." He suggested, and he didn't even need advance knowledge to say that. Winter Town was filled with gossip about Lord Stark and his southern ambitions.
Lyanna fell into deep thought, humming to herself. She folded her knees closer to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin above while looking in the distance.
Silently, Wylis glanced at her slender frame. Her furious, worried expressions. She was by every means beautiful. But not many saw her that way as her loudness, desire for adventure, and unladylike actions outweighed femininity. And in that world, men usually prefer feminine women. Not in his eyes, though. But he didn't hold much romantic interest towards her. And he was in no position to meddle in her life without losing his head.
What the heck was so good about that white haired guy? I guess I'll know soon.
"No matter how I look at it, there’s no man worth more than Robert. He’s to be Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. What choice do I have but to be given to him?" Lyanna dejectedly said, the fire in her heart to avoid the betrothal slowly dimmed. "I suppose I'll be bound to him in the end, just another pawn in Father's games."
There was nothing Wylis could do at the moment. He had no money, no influence. "Sometime's life's like horse shit—no matter how much you shovel, there's always more waiting. You just have to accept it in the end."
"Pfft—So reassuring, comparing my life to horseshit." Lyanna chuckled and looked at Wylis' face. "Maybe you should leave too, Wylis. You should've been knighted by now, yet here you are, shoveling horseshit. Maybe you should go South and try your luck."
Wylis shook his head, remembering how the Cleganes lived as Lannister dogs. "And become some crazy Lord's pet? No, I very much like the freedom I have in Winterfell."
Lyanna let out a sharp sigh as she rose to her feet, brushing off the dirt from her back. Stretching her arms above her head, she yawned, the thought of Robert weighing on her. "If I'm to marry him, I'll make his life miserable. He can dream of winning me, but he’ll never truly have m… Wait... That's it! He'll never have the pleasure he craves. Wylis, I know how you can help me!"
I don't like the sound of that.
Over the past four years, he'd seen Lyanna come up with ideas. None of them were ever good.
Eyes filled with suspicion, he nodded. "And that is?"
"Shag me!"
"..."
Now, he knew Lyanna was known to be wild and untamed. But this was too much. Although they never really shied away from talking about sex and that sort of banter, they never crossed the line.
"Ah, you really went insane today." Wylis sighed, adjusting his legs so nothing unsightly was visible. He'd just shagged Ros an hour ago and had to leave without finishing. Of course it made him hard when Lyanna said that. He had no control over the images in his mind.
"I'm serious, Wylis!" Lyanna proclaimed and abruptly approached him. As always, far too daring for her own good, she resolutely jumped on his lap, straddling his heavy legs with her hips wrapped in the wooly trousers. "You said you have needs, didn't you? Go ahead, do it with me. I would never let that bastard feel any pleasure from my body. Yes, that's it! Wylis, be my first and second and third and fourth too!"
"..."
Jesus Christ! There was no such God in Westeros. But old habits die hard.
She's gone crazy.
But it was hard, or rather he was hard. With her warm, light frame on his lap, his cock sprang to life like a beast on a hunt. And he was no average lad, but one with a thick, meaty sausage of pure sexual insanity. He gulped and looked at her face, right in front of him, her rough but petite hands resting on his broad shoulders.
With the intent to move her, he gently placed both his wide hands on her slender waist. But as soon as he felt her softness, he failed to push her off of him. He looked into her eager, grey eyes, and there he saw lust, need, pleading, while her lips were in a constant smirk.
"I'll act as if I never heard you say that."
Pat!
Lyanna slapped his shoulders and pushed her hips further closer to his pelvis, practically grinding her cunt on him. There was no doubt, she felt his thick cock form a rod between her thighs. "Listen to me, Wylis—I don't give a rat's ass what you think of me, you're my closest friend. I won't ever let Robert feel an ounce of pleasure from my body. I won’t be his first, or any other number."
Wylis took a deep breath. He was aroused, and seriously in need of a good fuck. But Lyanna was risky, and she was his friend; the only friend he could actually count on. Without her, he'd have never received the sword, the armor, or his own horse.
"Hmm…" Lyanna felt a throb between her legs. She smiled devilishly, her thin, pink lips curved wide. "You want to, don't you?"
He was unsure. "Well…"
Lyanna leaned forward then with the intent to seduce, something she'd never done in her entire life. "I don't think I'm that ugly, Wylis."
"You're beautiful," he stated truthfully. "But you're Lord Stark's cherished daughter. The precious jewel of House Stark. No, I'm not taking that risk. Lord Stark will have my head if I take your maidenhead."
"To hell with that! I've already lost my maidenhead from riding horses all these years. There’s nothing to take. And don't be such a coward, Wylis, it doesn't suit you. You're built like a giant made of muscles and—you're my best friend. If it's you, I know you’d never harm me. Our secret will stay between us."
"Friends don't fuck, Lyanna," he said awkwardly. "Definitely not with the intensity you're suggesting."
"Ugh…" She groaned, rising to her feet, her eyes flashing with frustration by his constant refusal. "You're maddening. I just told you, take me however you want—rough, wild, I don't care. No obligations, no promises and still—Leave it. Not as big as you, but Winter Town's full of big men. I'll find someone else. Anyone but Robert!"
What?!
If there was one thing about Lyanna that everyone in Winterfell knew, it was her resolve once she made up her mind. If she said she was going to find a guy to shag her, she would. Knowing that, he seriously considered her offer. She wanted it to be a one time thing, no strings attached.
Honestly, it was akin to the fear of missing out. As he watched her walk away, he glanced at her toned, round hips, her slender but strong legs. While of average height, she was seemingly made of fire. For years they'd been pretty much inseparable and after the initial lust, he'd suppressed all his desires towards her. Considering it impossible.
But here she was, asking him to do her.
Ugh… Why am I being such a coward? What's the point of being this tall and shredded if I can't fuck the women of my choice?
After spending his first life chasing the medieval re-enactment, he was now already in one. He didn't need to chase that anymore. What he needed was glory, wealth, and of course, women.
And with that Tyrant's Squire… I've got nothing to fear.
"Lyanna!" He rushed towards her and captured her hand, pulling her back and turning her around. He almost noticed a smirk vanishing into a frown on her face, as if she expected this.
"What?" She asked curtly.
He looked at her face and made up his mind.
"Let's do it. But at night. Come to my cabin by the stables—come quietly, and bring a fresh set of clothes. We wouldn't want any... complications."
Clap!
Lyanna, as if expecting him to agree eventually, clapped her hands and cheered. "That's the easy part. I'll see you tonight!"
Isn't she nervous? Not at all? I'm going to be her first, aren't I?
He genuinely started to wonder if it would even fit.
We'll see.
Putting those thoughts at the back of his mind, he quickly grabbed some dirt and a rock, and shoved it into his pockets. He wanted to try out the possible magical blessing quickly. But he didn't want to take any chances.
####
Wylis didn't live an easy life. He barely ever got a moment's rest during the day. He was tasked with taking care of the Stark family's personal horses. So, he had to brush them, clean them, prepare them or remove saddles whenever not in use throughout the day. There were six horses that he personally took care of.
Beyond that, he was often called in for some heavy work by the servants of the castle. He wasn't obliged to help them, but he did. The last thing he wanted was to lose the favor of those on a similar social level as him. Thankfully, by helping the kitchen wenches carry the heavy goods inside the castle, he often received food, and he really needed a lot.
But that wasn't enough. He spent more than half of his weekly pay on food to maintain his giant body and muscles. He also had to work fast to squeeze in some personal time to train himself. To do all that, he'd wake up before the sunrise, and would go to sleep late into the night.
He hoped Lord Stark would see him and take him as his squire. He desperately hoped for that. To win Lord Stark's favor, he even defeated the master-at-arms of the castle, and then defeated Brandon Stark in a mock duel.
Perhaps that did the opposite. Instead of gaining Lord Stark's favor, he was ignored. He reckoned Lord Stark didn't want to raise a man who could outshine his eldest son, Brandon, the future Lord of House Stark.
It was heartwarming that Lyanna often complained to her father that he should be rewarded. But the old Lord Stark never budged.
Since the day he woke up as a stableboy, he'd remained a stableboy.
Maybe this will change things.
After finishing all his chores, he retreated to his personal cabin hours after sunset. His cabin wasn't really a full fledged home, but rather a simple, sizable room he'd personally built within the Stark family horse stable itself.
A year ago, because of Old Nan, he was invited into the castle and given a small room to reside in. Initially he was delighted as the castle was naturally warm due to the hot springs underneath. But eventually, he outgrew the very walls. Other than the doors to the main chambers and halls, every single doorframe of the castle was too low, so much so that in one week he received a red scar on his forehead, constantly hitting the door frames.
So, begrudgingly, he decided to build himself a small cabin within the stables, choosing a cozy corner at the far end of the stables. He chopped wood himself, carried them, and nailed them too. Soon, he had a place that resembled a small studio apartment from his past life. A single room with a dining table at one end that acted as study too, and on the other end was a large bed for him. Between the two, there was a hearth he'd built into the original frame of the stable to keep himself warm. Even the horses loved that extra warmth outside.
But thanks to that, he had a lot of privacy since there were no windows, just a tight door. And the stables weren't visited by anyone after dark. Since he lived there, the nearly seven foot tall giant, even the guards didn't bother to patrol it.
Amidst the flickering light from the hearth, he looked at the pile of loose dirt and a single fist-sized stone on the table.
"Let's try this."
Other than those magical words during the day, he hadn't felt any difference in his body. So, he tried to mimic whatever he remembered about Earthbending.
"Move."
He waved his arms like a martial master, taking weird stances that if looked upon by someone, he'd be deemed mentally ill. But he kept doing it, first with the dirt, and then with the stone. He used the full intent of his mind, channeling his desire to move the rock.
"Come on, just a little—Just…"
Shhh~
"HA!"
It moved! The rock moved on the table. Nothing impressive, but it shifted a few inches to the side.
Shhhh~
"YES!"
He tried to repeat it. It wasn't just about intent but also feeling. He discarded his footwear and felt the ground itself, and that made him somehow more focused. He felt the stone on the table without touching it and tried to move.
Bam!
The stone flew across the room and slammed into the wooden wall. And what a strike it was, it left a scratch on the hard wood.
This… I can feel it! I can do so much more!
But he kept practicing with that stone. He tried to hold it hovering in the air to solidify his control. It was tough, making his forehead sweaty. He also tried manipulating the dirt, but it seemed the loose dirt was considered sand, and hence no Sandbending.
But he wasn't complaining. If he could manipulate rocks and hard ground, it was enough.
What about the rest of the features?
Strength, wealth, and legacy seemed like the main features. Quest was simple to understand. But the shop feature earned all his interest. He quickly willed to touch the shop option.
Woosh!
Instantly, a wide, translucent screen appeared in front of his eyes. The list was filled with items and their prices, with a scrollbar beside it to look further down into the list.
"M-My lifespan?" He murmured at the price. Every single item was priced with lifespan. But more than that, he found an answer that many men across the world try to seek. The accurate time left to live.
[Lifespan Left - 76 Years]
Am I going to live that long?
Intrigued, he looked at the list of things he could buy.
[Blacksmith Mastery - 1 Year
Civil Engineering - 3 Years
Chemistry Mastery - 1 Year
Survival Mastery - 5 Months
Archery Mastery - 1 Month
Cooking Mastery - 10 Days
Gunsmithing - 10 Years
Political Mastery - 5 Years
Sword Mastery - 1 Year
Horse Riding Mastery - 3 Months
…
…
…
Atomic Bomb Designs - 100 Years
M1E3 Abrams Tank Designs - 80 Years
…
…
…
Mind Reading - 107 Years]
At that point, Wylis stopped reading, too overwhelmed by the options and the price. And he wasn't even halfway down on the scroll bar. He felt scared of even knowing how high the price went and what insane thing it'd offer. Mind Reading itself was tempting.
"All the fighting skills seem beneficial but… losing one year of my life for each one of them."
But then he remembered the Legacy feature. The words were clear. For each trueborn child, his lifespan would increase by five years. For each bastard, it'd increase by one year. And he knew for a fact that many kings in the past had dozens of bastards. Robert himself would soon have many.
How many can I…?
But he wasn't rich, nor highborn. Siring bastards for him wasn't easy. Not yet, at least. As for trueborn, it meant he had to marry someone. But the biggest issue was that a single woman would be too slow at giving birth. And he couldn’t possibly keep her perpetually pregnant without risking her life.
"I'll have to think about it…"
Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock!
One slow, two fast, and then one slow knock. That was the code they had prepared.
Wylis quickly opened the door to his cabin and allowed Lyanna to walk in. This wasn't her first time in there, but surely a first at that hour.
For a moment, he just kept looking at her. Lyanna had come prepared, already wearing a loose nightgown, easy to remove. She'd just thrown over a cloak on her shoulders to battle the cold. Her dark brown hair was combed and loose, her eyes gleaming, and her face flushed.
"Did anyone see you?"
"Not a chance," Lyanna replied and put down a sack of clothes she'd brought. "Hide these somewhere."
"That many?" Wylis noticed too many pairs of clothes.
Lyanna shrugged as she knelt beside the lit hearth. "I reckoned I'd bring some extra so I won't have to bring more again and again every night."
Every night?
Wylis noted those words, but said nothing. He just stared at her back as she knelt by the fire. It excited his big heart, imagining the things they'd soon do in bed. But somewhere deep down, he thought of the Legacy feature.
No! Not her. Sleeping with her is already risky. Making her birth me a bastard would—Ugh, House Stark will chase me to the ends of the world.
"So…" Wylis drawled, waiting for her to stand up and face him. "How should we begin?"
He waited, and then waited some more.
Could she be… Embarrassed?
"Well, if you're not sure, I'll just go to sleep."
"No!" Lyanna jumped up instantly and turned around. Her face, pale as snow, was now blushing red, her ears rosy. She licked her dry lips and coughed to clear her voice. "I'm just… inexperienced."
"You've never fucked, that's what you mean?"
Lyanna glared back at him, knowing he used the crass words to embarrass her. "At least treat me like a lady, you bastard!"
"Oh, I'll do that soon enough," Wylis replied and with eyes dark full of lust, strode closer to her. "I'm just savoring the view. Not every day you see Lyanna Stark flustered."
Cute.
That was all he had to say. Her thin brows creased together, her small lips pouty, and her hands gripping the hem of her nightgown. She knew about sex, but was clueless about actually doing it.
Wylis finally stepped in front of her, looming so close his body brushed against hers, radiating heat like a forge. He was monstrous in height. His broad chest blocked out the firelight, casting a shadow over her petite frame. Where Lyanna only reached his mid-chest, Wylis stood like a mountain wrapped in sinew and heat, built like something more beast than man. It was his choice to become that.
She tilted her head up, flustered and flushed, gazing into the depths of his eyes that burned with unrelenting hunger.
He placed one large hand on her narrow waist, fingers curling into the nightgown to seek her skin. The other hand gripped her jaw, thumb pressing just beneath her chin, tilting her face upward to meet his own. Her skin felt like velvet under his palm, fragile and hot. He could feel the tremble in her body already.
"Tell me, can I still do you as I please, as you said earlier?” The fire crackled behind him, but it was nothing compared to the heat of the tension between them. This was the edge of the cliff, one step, and there would be no turning back. Their friendship, their lives; all would shift forever.
Lyanna, no matter how headstrong, proud, and rebellious, was still a woman. Her breath caught in her throat, her pupils dilated, her legs subtly pressed together.
Her lips quivered, and she gave the faintest nod before her voice whispered, “Aye… I’ve made up my mind, Wylis.”
"Then I'll start… gently."
Wylis leaned down, his body tilting forward with control. Their size difference made the movement feel primal; the beast reaching down for the flower.
To his surprise, Lyanna lifted herself onto her toes, closing the gap fast, her lips meeting his with sudden boldness. There was no clear line between lust and need now, only two people, burning from the inside, driven mad with thirst they hadn’t known they carried. But right then, all they wanted was to quench that deep thirst. And it was already catching fire.
For Lyanna, it was her first; a heady, swirling storm of new sensations. For Wylis, it was release. Years of pent-up lust had nowhere else to go. The kiss deepened and morphed as he guided her naturally.
She learned quickly, mimicking his hunger, her tongue flicking into his mouth like a teasing challenge. But his tongue was overwhelming. Wide, hot, commanding; it wrapped hers like a serpent, tasting her deeply.
Her hands rested flat on his chest at first, and felt like she’d placed her palms against stone. He was carved, rigid, layered with pure muscle and hard-earned strength. Slowly, she pressed more into him, offering more of herself, breathless.
His enormous arms circled her like steel cables. One hand wrapped behind her head, fingers sliding into her hair, his palm wide enough to cup nearly her entire skull. She was dwarfed in his hold, made to feel like a plaything. His other hand caressed the length of her back, gliding down her spine until it landed firmly on her ass, tight and round from all her riding and wild running.
The kiss grew messier, wetter. Tongues tangling, breaths huffing, their lips smacking with each eager collision.
Wylis broke the kiss only to grab her nightgown and peel it upward. She froze for a moment, but he kept going; pulling it past her hips, over her chest, and then right off her arms, tossing it aside.
Now, she stood fully naked in front of him.
Her face flushed scarlet. One arm crossed over her sizable perky breasts, enough to tempt any man mad, and the other hand clamped down between her thighs. Her legs pressed together, trying to shield the damp heat of her virginity from view.
"No reason denying now, Lyanna. We're in the same boat." Wylis said gruffly.
Then, he undid his loose tunic, pulling it over his head in one motion. And there it was, a body sculpted for war, not pleasure. Yet to her, it was both.
He was built like a war god, broad shoulders, arms thick with muscle and dusted lightly with hair, every inch of him carved hard and lean. His chest was thick with power, like the walls of a fort. His abs were deep-cut ridges that led down to powerful hips, made to pin down and dominate. His face was all hard edges, like it had been molded by the gods for intimidation and awe.
She’d seen men shirtless before; Winterfell’s boys had wrestled and trained shirtless in the yard. But this… this was different. This was the Wylis no one else got to see. Her mouth went dry, and her thighs instinctively pressed tighter. Her pussy clenched without warning.
Then he dropped his trousers.
And Lyanna gasped like she’d just seen a dragon.
“That’s…” she choked. “Hell, Wylis! It’s not going to fit!”
His cock bounced free of its shroud, thick and long. It hung heavy, throbbing, twitching with desire. Thick veins coiled around its shaft like ivy on a stone pillar. The head was swollen, glistening a flushed purple, already weeping from the sheer weight of his arousal. Below it, his balls hung low and full, massive, like they hadn’t been drained in years.
“Hah—That’s why I said, I’ll go gently,” Wylis murmured as he pulled her flush against his muscular chest. Her bare skin met the warmth of his body.
He kissed her again, devouring, claiming. One hand grabbed the cheek of her round ass, fingers sinking in like kneading bread dough, while the other slid to cup her firm breasts. Her perky nipples, already hard from the fire and the tension, were twisted slowly. First a soft roll between his fingers, then a firm twist that made her moan straight into his mouth.
“Mmmmm…” Lyanna whimpered, gasping as he swallowed every desperate sound. Her knees nearly buckled.
Before she realized it, her back bumped into the edge of the old wooden table behind her, the jolt sending a shiver down her spine. She blinked up at him, dazed and flustered, lips parted and wet.
Wylis stepped back then, just a few feet, enough to take her all in. The sight caused his beast of a cock to twitch.
Damn! Why didn't I try my luck before? She's… a goddess!
She looked like a warrior’s dream made of flesh. Slender but not fragile, her hips curved just enough to make any man lose his mind. Her breasts, not too large, but full and firm, tipped with flushed little peaks. Her dark brown hair framed her face and spilled in tousled waves down her back like a gentle river. And that tight little cunt between her toned thighs… He wanted to bury his face in it already.
“Stop leering, you pervert,” Lyanna muttered, cheeks flushed, arms crossing again.
“Just admiring,” Wylis smirked as he stepped forward again, close enough for her to lean slightly backward. That made her even shorter, just under his chest. He grabbed her delicate hand and placed it on the throbbing, attention-starved cock. “You can do the same.”
She blinked, stunned by the rod of flesh pulsing in her palm. Her fingers tentatively wrapped around him, then stroked up and down with a fascinated expression, like she was petting a dangerous beast. Curious, she pulled the foreskin back slowly, revealing the thick, purpled head, slick, swollen, and almost too obscene to look at.
Her voice came out as a dry whisper. “I-Is this… normal size?”
"Hah!" Wylis burst out laughing, proud and cocky. “Not at all. I reckon you’ll find a dragon faster than a cock of this size.”
Well, there's those giants beyond the wall but… ugh, what the fuck am I thinking?
“Really?” Lyanna bit her lip, both impressed and slightly terrified.
Seeing she might want to taste it, he shook his head and moved her hand away. "That's for later."
Then he dropped to his knees.
He gripped her hips and lifted her legs onto his broad shoulders, settling her in place on the table’s edge like a feast made just for him. Her cunt, tight, untouched, but already leaking, rested right at the height of his mouth. Its soft lips flushed and swollen with need.
A glistening sheen on her delicate folds, her arousal seeping out. The scent hit him instantly, rich, earthy, and maddeningly pure. It was the scent of a ripe woman untouched. She might’ve bathed, but nothing could wash away that raw, intoxicating fragrance that was unmistakably her. Not soap, not water—just her.
Then he kissed her cunt like it was the juiciest fruit found by a man dying of thirst. His lips sealed tightly over her wet slit, and his tongue plunged in like a sword, dragging along every sensitive fold and curve inside her molten heat. He didn’t rush it, he savored her.
“Ah—oh! Gods!” Lyanna gasped, back arching, one hand flying behind her to brace on the table while the other tangled into his thick hair, fingers gripping like she’d drown without him. Her legs quivered on his shoulders.
"Yes! Oh fuck! W-Why didn't we do this before?!"
Hah! I ask myself the same; Wylis grinned under her.
"Mmmmh… Yes, yes… keep going… I feel sooooh good!"
She locked her cushiony thighs around his head, squeezing him against her juicy cunt, and Wylis let her. But then, he got a wicked idea.
Without warning, he wrapped his arms tight under her thighs and stood up to his full height, lifting her entire body in his grip like she weighed nothing. Her pussy never left his mouth. He kept licking, moaning into her dripping folds as he stood, carrying her like a trophy.
“Aaaah! Y-You crazy bas… Wylis!” Lyanna shrieked in half-laughter, half-ecstasy, as her hands smacked into the wooden beams above. She had to palm the damn ceiling just to keep herself steady.
"Hmmm—" Wylis didn’t care—he attacked her clit with his tongue like it was sugary candy, rolling it, pressing it, circling until she was shaking in his arms. "Mmm!"
“Ahh… Yes! Yes!!” It was a first experience Lyanna had never imagined.
“Mmm—mmmh! Aaah—Wylis—I’m—!” A scream tore from her lungs as her cunt climaxed onto his tongue. She spasmed in his grip, crying out, legs trembling, clinging to his head like a madwoman. “Oh! Oh thank you, Wylis! We should’ve fucked years ago—fuck, fuck me now!”
He grinned, his face soaked in her sweet nectar. He didn’t mind.
Then, finally, he took her to the bed.
He laid her down gently on her back, only to crawl over her seconds later like a beast mounting its mate. His size eclipsed her, making her seem like a doll beneath him. He supported his weight with bulging arms, muscles flaring under his skin, his chest hovering just high enough to show control.
Then he came down, his lips suckled hers again, letting her taste her own slick juices. Then he kissed down her neck, to her collarbones, leaving marks, faint purples and pinks that would burn into her tomorrow. He suckled her pale tits next, his slithering tongue toying with her nipples until her legs writhed under him.
“Aaaaah… Mmmm… I-I can’t wait… to feel you! Yes… I want it!” She gasped, and pulled his head deeper into her breast, wanting more, needing all of him.
Seeking more pleasure, Wylis sat back on his calves, hands moving below her thighs to lift them, spreading her legs wide and pushing up. Not folding too far to hurt her, just enough to give him full access to her swollen, needy cunt, and what a sight it was—untouched.
“I’ll go very slow, Lyanna,” he said, voice trembling with restraint. His cockhead nudged her slick entrance, and the sight alone made him drunk. They were the same age, but the difference in their size was a hindrance.
She nodded quickly. “D-Don’t worry… I can take it.”
He almost laughed. You won’t be saying that later…
Wylis spat into his hand and smeared it over the crown of his cock. Then he pushed.
Her pussy lips stretched wide, forced apart like a flower blooming against the storm. The tip entered with a filthy, wet squelch, the noise sharp and obscene in the quiet of the room.
But Wylis froze there. Lyanna thought he wanted her to get accustomed to that stretch. But in truth, Wylis stared at the screen that had popped in front of his eyes out of nowhere.
[Tyrant’s Title Acquired - Traitor of the House Stark!
Description - Bedding Lyanna Stark was a double-edged sword. While you won Lyanna’s devotion, you earned House Stark’s ire.
Effect - Making love to Lyanna will make you stronger by 0.01% each time. But if found out by Lord Stark, death is guaranteed.]
What!
“Aaaaah…”
Shaking his head, he quickly focused back on Lyanna. The heat of her tight cunt swallowed him and he poured himself back into pleasuring the she-wolf.
Lyanna’s legs twitched, her belly spasmed, and her eyes rolled back just for a second. Her tight walls clamped down, milking that invading tip as if to reject it, and yet begged for more. She bit down on her own hand, muffling a scream. Her other hand gripped the sheets like a lifeline.
Wylis watches like a drunk man, like a man possessed. He didn’t even move, not really. He just fucked her with his cockhead, in, out, inch by teasing inch. Her pussy was hot, slick, tight as a vice, and he wasn’t even a quarter in. His brain melted. His balls ached. He wanted nothing more than to press her flat and slam himself balls-deep, but not yet. Not yet.
"Eeeek!"
Suddenly, Lyanna’s cry tore through the room as Wylis tried to slide more of his heavy cock into her snug cunt. Her back arched off the mattress, eyes wide, mouth gaping in a silent scream.
“T-Too—oooh much!” she gasped out, her voice cracking into a sob as her thighs quivered against his ribs.
Fuck, did I push too far? Wylis froze. His gut clenched. He pulled out instantly, nearly all the way, leaving just the tip inside her sweet, trembling pussy.
“Shh… I’ll be more gentle,” he whispered, kissing her knee, her thigh. “I promised to go slow, and I meant it.”
It was agony. His cock throbbed like a tortured beast, veins bulging, slick with her juices. But he forced himself to fuck her with only a fraction of his length, slow, shallow thrusts that just teased the sensitive entrance of her cunt. His mind screamed for more, but his heart wouldn’t hurt her.
A little glint of wetness appeared at the corner of Lyanna’s eyes. The stretch had stung. Yet even through the tears, her soft moans returned, raw and needy. Her pleasure crept back up, riding on the wave of pressure inside her.
He held her legs high, palms supporting her thighs. The way he pinned her down, she couldn’t squirm, couldn’t move; her body was helpless beneath him, surrendered entirely to his rhythm, but he never pushed too far.
“Mmmmm… Yes!… Oh, Gods!” she moaned, her head tossing side to side, hair fanned out across the sheets.
Dejected but careful, Wylis kept at it, still not daring to give her more than half his cock. She wasn’t ready, not yet. Hell, she was a virgin, and he was built like a bloody giant. It might take days before her cunt molded to fit him like a glove. And that was fine. Her voice alone made it worth it.
The bed creaked beneath them as his pace picked up. Not deeper, but faster, shallower. His hips rocked into her, dragging the soaked crown back and forth through her tender folds. Wet, squelching noises filled the room, mixing with her increasingly frantic cries.
“Ah! Ah! W-Wylis! Haaah! Ohh—Y-Yes, Yes, Just like—Aaah!” She came hard, the daughter of House Stark.
Her cunt spasmed around his heavy cock like it was trying to milk the little bit of him it had, kneading it, hugging it, trembling violently. Her whole body shook like a storm-struck tree, and she threw her head back with a ragged scream, eyes clenched tight, mouth wide open.
“Haaaaaa—aaaahn!” Lyanna’s final moan wavered, her body calming down from the violent spasms. Her very first orgasm from a real cock.
"Hah…" Wylis groaned when her cries finally settled down, pulling out of her cunt with a slick squelch.
He fell back onto the bed, arms stretched wide across the pillows, chest heaving. He wasn’t tired from the fucking, but the restraint it had taken to not unleash himself inside her… Gods, it was maddening.
Not my lucky day, I guess. He thought, breathing hard, his cock twitching above his stomach; angry, dripping, and still iron-hard.
“My turn, Wylis,” came a breathless voice.
He looked up.
Lyanna sat up, flushed and sweaty, her legs wobbly as she turned around on the bed. She looked positively ruined, and yet her eyes burned like fire.
“People say I—hah—I’m crazy but…” She slid between his massive thighs, settling on her knees. Her gaze dropped to his glistening cock. It looked colossal against her pale, petite face. “I’m no fool… I may be sloppy, but I’ll try.”
Wylis felt his heart slam in his chest as she leaned forward. And honestly, the difference in their status made it more arousing to him. Watching the blue-blooded Lyanna Stark in such a filthy act, licking his drenched, musky cock clean of her own juices. Blood rushed to his loins.
Her tongue flicked out and licked the length of his cock like she was tasting something sacred. She started at the base, licking the root, the thick veins pulsing under her tongue. Then, she dragged her pink tongue all the way up to the swollen, leaking head. She flattened his length against her face in amusement, the cock almost as long as her entire face.
Her dainty hands cradled the shaft as she kissed it. Every peck, every lick was like a worship. She kissed under the cockhead, then along the sensitive underside. She nuzzled the base like a lover and even dipped lower to press her tongue to his heavy balls, dragging a moan out of him.
“Unghh… Fuck, Lyanna…”
“Mmmm… Really… You have to… become a knight!” she murmured between slobbery licks. “B-Bless the ladies of the realm… with this… insane thing.”
Then she took him in her mouth.
Her lips stretched obscenely wide as she fed the monster into her throat. The tip disappeared, then more, and more, until half of him vanished into her mouth. Her cheeks bulged, her throat worked to swallow, and finally, ”Gck gck–!
He hit the back of her throat.
Tears welled in her eyes, nose flared, but the mad she-wolf held her ground. She pulled back and bobbed again, determination in every move. Saliva dripped from her chin, slick and shiny. Her moans vibrated around his cock.
“Balls… ugh! Use… hands to f-fondle…” Wylis gasped, teetering at the edge.
Lyanna obeyed. Her fingers reached to cup his heavy sack and rolled them gently, massaging his balls as she suckled.
That did it.
Wylis threw his head back with a roar as he came.
His cock exploded in her mouth unannounced. Burst after burst, each spray thick, hot, and overwhelming. Her mouth couldn’t hold it all. She gagged again, pulling back instinctively, but he kept cumming. His cock jerked violently in her grip, and ropes of thick cream shot across her face, landing on her cheeks, her nose, her lips.
“Ah—Fuck!!”
His giant body had a giant’s load to give, and give he did.
Her pale face was drenched, plastered in ropes of white. It oozed from her chin, dripped onto her breasts. Her hand stayed wrapped around his cock, guiding it as it sprayed more, milking it like she was proud of what she’d drawn from him.
“Umm…” Lyanna hummed, daringly gulping down what was still in her pretty little mouth. Her lips were glazed with cream, her smile impish. “I—I… taste’s not bad but… I don’t think I’ll do this to every man… or any man.”
“But me—heh?” Wylis asked, still panting.
Lyanna giggled and sat back on her heels, her body glistening with his seed. “Oh, don’t get ahead of yourself now, Wylis.”
Then, with a sigh, she climbed off the bed, walking naked across the room. Her bare thighs sticky with release, her face still painted white. She grabbed the cloth she’d brought earlier and tossed it to him.
“Here. Clean your beast.”
He chuckled and obeyed while she dipped another cloth in the bucket of water and wiped her face clean, scrubbing until her skin was pink again. A few more splashes, and she was done.
“Make some space, Wylis—you big hog.”
Chuckling, Wylis shifted a little.
When she climbed back into bed, Wylis opened his arms, and she dove right in. They didn’t want to make it romantic. Nor did it feel like that. It just felt natural. So, she nestled at his side, her wild hair damp and her skin still warm. Her cheek lay on his shoulder, and her arm slid across his broad chest.
For a long while, neither spoke.
They just rested there, naked, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. The room smelled of sweat, sex, and satisfaction. They’d taken a massive step tonight, ripped through all boundaries, and yet, there wasn’t a hint of regret between them.
If anything, they both wanted more.
But not that night.
"Wylis."
"Hm?" He reacted, caressing her back with his arm.
“I asked my father to bring you along to the tourney at Harrenhal."
Really?! Wylis' eyes widened in surprise. He almost squeezed the life out of her in excitement.
"C-Can I…"
Just going there wasn't the point.
"Can I participate?"
"Heh—" Lyanna lifted her face, grinning. "Of course! After all, I'm taking part too."
But instead of cheering, Wylis felt his heart thumping an abnormal beat. He knew what would happen there.
It all starts at Harrenhal… Rhaegar… Did he kidnap her? Did they fall in love?
Too many questions. Yet no answers.
What should I change? No, what can I even change? I'm a nobody. And that title… It really is a double edged sword.
"...Wylis? Did you fall asleep? Wylis?"
"Ah… Yeah, what?" He stopped pondering and focused back on the warm bodied beauty.
"You'll participate? Brandon will lend you his jousting lance."
I need to earn prestige.
"I will, Lyanna—I'll participate and… win."
___________________
Question: Should I keep the System notifications in the form of quotes, or just leave them as normal bold text?
Comments
Lastresort
I’ve got terrible impulse control, so I probably would’ve gotten all that first section from the shop from the master blacksmith to the master horse riding, all of those skills are crazy practical. Plus all things considered if he does get that whole for a section it would only take 22 years ,rounded up, of his life, that means he’ll live till he’s like 72; that’s a lifetime in medieval times and if he doesn’t have any kids by then it ain’t happening.
Miles Gwatidzo
Ned won’t care that Lyanna slept with Wylis since Robbert already has bastards, obviously Ned wouldn’t agree with killing Wylis for simply having sex with his sister. Brandon wouldn’t care either considering he’s wild nature is just like Lyanna and he has obviously gone to the brothels. Brenden will be in the boat as Ned. The only problem of course their father.
Hadrian Scipio
bold
LETSGOO
Lets get that abrams
MrPlotThickens
Yes
Bladesunder
I vote normal bold text
Mezz015
Unrelated question but will president stark be the next released chapter?
Cup of Happy
Bold
