Melisandre's elbows buckled. Her cheek slammed sideways against the floor. The position forced her ass higher, pale cheeks parting just enough to reveal the cleft and tight, pale pink pucker nestled there.
"Put your hands behind and open yourself wide. Present that foul, tight place to me as the Maiden presents maidenhead. Say it humble: 'My arse is yours to defile, Your Holiness, use it as you will."
Bronn's breath hitched as he watched her do it. Face dirty, already streaked with floor grime and drying tears. Her soft, elegant hands reached back, fingers brutally dug into the doughy flesh of her asscheeks. She spread herself wide, shamelessly, exposing everything. The long, clean slit of her cunt was still glistening with juices, and higher, that ring of muscle, blushing pink against pale skin.
"Mmmh… Oh… Your Holiness… I am yours to defile. Claim me, my body… all belongs to you."
What one's thirst for magic does, I suppose.
Bronn licked his lips. He had planned to take her cunt, but fuck, that ass. How could he say no? Her pussy was tight, a clean, long slit of light pink, lips puffy; But her ass, the pale color of her skin with a pink tint, perhaps the most lovely ass he'd seen in years. Daenerys might have something to rival it, however, he knew she'd be perfect.
Yet, he couldn't hold it back.
Dropping to his knees behind her, he fisted his still-slick rod and dragged the fat cockhead along her dripping cunt first. Coating himself in her hot nectar, letting her juices paint him glossy. Then he rose higher, pressing firmly against that tiny, flinching pucker. She flinched once but never pulled away. Her fingers only dug deeper into her own flesh, spreading herself wider.
Bronn didn't give a single fuck about her comfort. He probed, pushed, felt the wrinkled ring resist, then soften under steady, merciless pressure as she forced herself to surrender. His swollen tip popped inside with a sudden stretch. It felt hot, impossibly tight, as he watched her tight ring give way. He groaned like a man tasting heaven.
"Oh! Tight… what an… ass!" he groaned in pleasure.
Pa!
His palm cracked down hard on one pale asscheek. The flesh jiggled, a white ripple blooming instantly into pink. Insanely beautiful. He watched it settle, mesmerized, then leaned forward, seizing another brutal fistful of red hair.
Bronn pushed her head down just enough to grind her cheek harder onto the filthy floor, while his other hand braced on her cushiony hip.
He shoved.
Just relentless pressure, feeding inch after thick inch into her resisting hole. Her body fought him, clenching, fluttering, trying to push him out. A few short, savage back-and-forths and then, he finally sank to the root. His balls mashed tight against her soaked cunt, cock buried deep in the hottest, tightest ass he'd ever claimed.
"Oooooh… Ngh!"
At last, Bronn heard Melisandre's gasping moan.
"Hah. Moan all you like. Best get used to the sound. This is your life now, my red whore. Cunt, arse, teats, face… every hole and inch belongs to me. At my word, you drop to your knees and gape, tongue hanging like a bitch in heat. At my nod, you bend over the table, hike that gown, and spread for cock. Rejoice, sweet slut. You get to pleasure an angel of the Seven," he said, low and cruel.
He started to fuck her ass. True, brutal thrusts, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming everything back in each time. The tight ring of muscle clung to him like it was trying to strangle his cock, yet yielded just enough to let him drill deeper.
"Ungh! Ungh!"
Melisandre's grunting moans were music to his ears.
He kept plowing, relentlessly. Slowly, her trembling legs gave way; her knees buckled, and she collapsed belly-flat to the dirty stone floor. Bronn didn't pause, didn't care. He simply followed her down, straddling her prone body, cock never leaving her ass as he rutted her into the filth.
Plap! Plap! Plap!
The edge crept closer, coiling tight in his balls. But he wasn't about to waste his blessing in her ass, not when her cunt waited, dripping and ready.
With a grunt, he yanked himself free and flipped her roughly onto her back.
There she lay, finally giving him the full view of her ruined face. Dirt smeared across one cheek, streaks of his cock-juice and her own thick spit on her skin. Lips swollen and bruised, eyes glassy with something between shame and hunger.
Normally, a man wouldn't follow ass with cunt, but this was no ordinary woman. A magical whore, and nothing really mattered beyond that.
"Now, for the Maiden's blessing right at your womb! Rejoice! Oh, my red whore!"
Bronn moved between her thighs, seizing the backs of her milky-soft legs and folding her in half. He pressed under her thighs, shoved her knees high until they framed her magnificent tits, then kept pushing, higher and higher. Until her ankles pointed toward the ceiling on either side of her fiery red hair. Her body folded, ass lifted toward him.
He mounted her fully, flattening himself atop her tall frame, using every inch of their matched height.
His shoulders hooked under her knees, pinning her legs folded and spread; his face hovered just above the glorious swell of her breasts. And his cock probed the soaking, fever-hot entrance of her pussy.
"Aaaaaaah! Oh… Lord… Your Holiness!" She screamed in pleasure as he rammed forward in one smooth, merciless thrust.
Her walls splayed apart around his girth, fluttering wildly. He felt every ripple, every spasm as her cunt fought and surrendered. He buried himself to the root and held there, grinding slow circles while his mouth descended on her tits.
He mauled them greedily. Teeth caught stiff nipples, tugging until they reddened; lips sucked hard, marking pale flesh with dark blemishes. Her soft, warm, perfect handfuls that yielded under his rough palms, just like the rest of her body.
Slurrrp!
He gobbled her up. Using her own folded knees, he shoved her breasts together until the soft mounds pressed tight, nipples together, and he latched onto both at once. He suckled hard, tongue lashing the sensitive peaks.
"Mmmmmh… Ah, ah, ah!"
To his dark delight, Melisandre shattered around his buried cock. Her pussy spasmed hard, walls clamping down, then fluttering in rhythmic pulses. A hot gush of juice flooded out around his shaft, soaking his balls, dripping down the cleft of her ass
Bronn chuckled against her breast, feeling her body throb under him. "The Maiden has prepared you, seems."
Then he started to thrust, using his full weight to drive down into her cunt. Each plunge pistoned his cock deep, hips slamming with punishing force. Her ankles dangled uselessly near her ears, feet kicking feebly at the air as he fucked her into the stone.
Melisandre's spine bowed under the onslaught; every plunge ended in a sickening, wet clap of flesh on flesh.
Plap! Plap!
It was filthy music, and Bronn drank it in. She truly was a gorgeous woman. And Seven whores, plundering her made it all the more fun.
He stared down at her wrecked face and smirked. Mouth hanging open, panting raggedly; eyes half-lidded in glassy surrender; red hair fanned out around her head like a flaming halo smeared with dirt and spit.
"May the Seven… bless this… tight… greedy cunt!" he groaned, each word timed to a brutal drill of his hips.
Plap! Plap!
He fucked harder, faster, chasing his peak. But even before he reached it, she broke again.
Melisandre's second climax struck. Deep inside her, Bronn felt it all. Her cunt walls seized, squeezing his cock from root to tip. Each spasm rippled in hot, slippery waves, milking him with desperate greed. A filthy, living pulse that sucked at him like a mouth, dragging him deeper. Juices squirted messily with every brutal thrust of his cock, splattering his groin.
Bronn finally felt his blood roar up from his balls. With a feral howl that echoed off the stone walls, he slammed his chest down onto hers, crushing her folded body with his full weight until she was nearly bent double. His cockhead rammed her cervix hard, lodged deep, and then he erupted.
"Fuck! Your cunt's… drinking me… whole!"
Thick, scalding ropes of batter blasted straight into her womb in pulsing jets. Unholy, endless. Each spurt deeper. His hips jerked with every heavy pulse, grinding deeper, forcing more of his virile filth into her greedy core until it felt like he was emptying his very soul. The hot, slippery flood thoroughly painted her insides white, squirting back out around his buried shaft in messy spurts, soaking his balls, dripping in thick creamy rivulets down her asscrack to pool on the filthy floor.
Her pussy throbbed and fluttered around him, walls rippling in aftershocks that milked the final drops from his twitching cock. Slick and cream mixed in a sloppy slurry.
Bronn stayed buried to the hilt a long moment longer, chest heaving, sweat dripping from his brow onto her dirt-streaked tits, savoring the ruined heat of her.
But something else caught his eye as his cock finally started growing flaccid. The ruby on the choker on her neck started to glow brighter. That had also happened when she was casting her magic.
Maiden's cunt! What is she doing?
Worried that the whore might be plotting an attack, he slammed his hand on her throat and gripped it. He let her legs fall; his cock slid out. He clawed up and straddled her waist, sitting down on her.
"Not so fast, whore!"
He cast a full-body binding spell on her, freezing her, and then mercilessly snatched that choker from her neck.
"What magical nonsense were you plott—"
The words died in his throat as the most disgusting thing took place right before his eyes.
No, right underneath him. As he saw horror in Melisandre's eyes, strange wrinkles started to appear on her face. Her lush red hair started to turn grey and slowly…
"Seven hells! You're a fucking old hag! I fucked a dried-up bitch." Bronn jumped to his feet and stumbled away, watching as Melisandre's entire body turned.
Wrinkles spiderwebbed across her face in seconds, skin sagging. Her lush hair drained of color, turning dull grey, then brittle white, falling limp around her skull like dead straw. Her proud tits collapsed inward, deflating into sagging flaps of loose flesh. He stared at the choker in his hand and connected the dots.
This thing was keeping her young and beautiful. But the truth was this old body. It only took mere moments for her to fully wither.
Her once-wide hips narrowed, bones jutting sharply under thinning skin. Her spine hunched with an audible crack as age and decay rushed in all at once.
"I…" Bronn cursed so much in his mind as his mouth was speechless. His cock shrank so hard it felt like it'd dive back into his damn balls and never appear again.
"Gods be good, even laying a hand on you feels like a damn sin. No. This stays here, locked in these four walls. I fucked… are you still alive or did I just bugger a corpse?"
Bronn gulped and yanked his clothes back on with shaking hands, getting proper. Then, he walked over to Melisandre's frozen body. She looked old, but still alive. Not for long, however.
"I never got the chance to use this magic. So I thank you for your sacrifice, you worthless whore."
He knelt beside her head and placed a hand on her face. Then, he remembered the exact incantations and the emotions behind that particular spell. He remembered it from the memories of that foreign soul. This magic was meant to be a curse, a deadly, forbidden curse. He didn't understand why, because it killed just as many other spells.
"Aveda… Kedavra!"
One of the limitations he had was the lack of that magical stick. He had to touch things to use magic on them. He did the same now and noticed a violent, sudden jerk of Melisandre's body.
The very next moment, it was utterly still, lifeless. No mark on her body, no bruise. It was as if her soul died.
"I'm a sick… fuck!"
Bronn rocked back on his heels and looked at her corpse.
Just remembering what he was doing not long ago, every thrust, every moan, disgusted him. His mind replaced the beautiful Melisandre in his mind with the old, withered husk, and that nearly made him vomit.
"A… A cunt's… a cunt… isn't that right?"
He bitterly told himself that.
Quickly, he grabbed some sheets and cleaned the floor. He didn't want others to think he did all of it with that old, rotten body. Then at last, he covered her with the same sheets.
Dressed and calmed, he opened the door of the room and walked out. It brightened his mind and body to see Daenerys standing there in a gorgeous septa gown without the scarf. It was snug on her waist and hips, tight around her small breasts. Her hair was untied, just as he liked.
"Master! Are you well? I was worried."
"Oh, my apprentice." Bronn blurted and rushed over to her. He threw his arms around her slender waist and planted his kiss on her soft lips. It hadn't been long since he started doing this, so it wasn't normalised yet.
Yet, her lips healed him.
The kiss deepened into a tight liplock. Her sweet, soft lips pressed firmly against his with a warmth that chased away the image of that disgusting sight in his mind. He felt her respond eagerly in soft, scented exhales. No tongues danced, only her lips yielding just enough to draw him in.
Meanwhile, Bronn's hands roamed lower, sliding over the curve of her hips to grip her asscheeks hard, his wide palms engulfing the plump flesh whole, kneading the firm rounds through the fabric of her gown, feeling the firm curves yield under his grip. Oh, how much he adored her. She was something special to him.
"You brighten my day, Daenerys," Bronn whispered after breaking the kiss. Then he leaned down, kissed her cheek, and spoke into her ear. "Let us begin the ritual in seven days."
The big, bright smile Daenerys showed him truly made his heart skip a few beats. Daenerys was just so lovely, and knowing she'd soon be his… oh, the horrors of the day gone finally started to fade away.
"Ehm… Your Holiness?"
Bronn frowned at the third voice. He stepped away from Daenerys and looked to the side, finding nobody. But then he looked down.
"A midget?"
####
Red Keep, King's Landing,
Eddard Stark had returned to the city after a fruitless visit to the Lannisters. He should have returned home, but he didn't want to leave Robert alone in the mess. He also wanted to discuss matters with Lord Arryn and bring him into the whole affair.
However, right as he arrived, he heard from Robert that Lord Septon had sent word to the crown that he planned to build ten more places like Angel's Peak. The locations had already been decided; all the Crown needed to do was accept it. It wasn't a request for approval, but a simple 'now you know'.
That happened a day ago.
Now, he stood in the Great Hall, watching the King's court take place. Many other lords and nobles were present, and the entire Small Council. King Robert sat on the throne, and before it stood a dusky Dornish man, reading a parchment that had come straight from Sunspear.
"...thus House Nymeros Martell of Sunspear, as the Kingdom of Dorne, secedes from the Seven Kingdoms. Prince Doran shall henceforth be addressed as King Doran, and any intrusion upon the borders of Dorne shall be deemed a provocation of war. King Robert Baratheon is counseled to heed wisdom and harbor no designs of reclamation…"
"ENOUGH!"
Eddard shook his head, rubbing his face at Robert's roar. Oh, how blind they had all been. He saw through it now. A colossal game had been played. The crown was now crippled to do anything against Lord Septon, a man loved by all. Because if they did, the realm would ask why the crown is silent on Dorne.
Doing nothing meant all the other kingdoms might attempt to secede. Doing something meant waging a war against Dorne.
The North must prepare for this turmoil. I must return home.
"Guards! Bring me his head!"
Eddard said nothing. It was meaningless at that point. The realm was lost already.
But I will protect the piece I rule.
___________________
This fic is on a hiatus.
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