The Northern Tyrant [Game of Thrones] Chapter 9 - Clashing Swords & Battering Wombs

“What the fuck’re you playing at?” Wenda asked with a snarl, bare underneath the soft quilt, sore between her legs after three days of non-s

“What the fuck’re you playing at?” Wenda asked with a snarl, bare underneath the soft quilt, sore between her legs after three days of non-stop womb battering shafting she had received. She had no complaints, she enjoyed it as much as the man. There was no doubt in her mind, she was going to be heavily pregnant soon. 

Wylis looked behind as he sat at the edge of the tent's entrance. "Resting my feet."

"By burying them under dirt?" 

"Why not?" Wylis replied and focused on his task. No, he wasn't resting his feet. The reason behind shoving his feet into the dirt and completely covering them in soil was to feel a better connection with Earth. He wanted to improve at Earthbending, and the best way to do so was to keep practicing. 

But other than just manipulating dirt, he wanted to feel it. Since he was in the Westerlands, and he was going to travel around catching bandits, he wanted to scan the grounds and find any hidden gold mines. Since Lannisters were on the verge of drying up their mines in silence, he wanted to be prepared. 

Sure, Tywin wouldn't even listen to him currently. He wasn't even a knight. Nor was he planning to meet and propose any plans. But knowing where the mines were would come in handy in the distant future. When he'd be higher in title, fatter in purse, bigger in his brood, and mightier in arms. 

It won't be easy to make a Lannister give up some gold. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep, calm breath before holding it. He ignored his beating heart, he muted his ears to all the noise. Then he felt it, the little vibrations under the dirt. Vibrations caused by his feet pulsing on their own. 

Not enough range. Gotta keep training. 

Other than some rocks and old bones, he didn't find anything else under his campsite. Still, it was a great way to practice. 

For almost an hour, he trained his Earthbending. By the time he was done, the sun had once again sunk. It was their third night near Deep Den, and likely the last as they had decided to start hunting come morning. 

But he wasn't one to waste the night. 

"Alright, let's continue." He turned around and crawled back into the tent. He discarded the cloth he had tied around his waist, and then shoved away the quilt over Wenda, revealing her fantastic, utterly fucked body. 

Those beautiful, small tits, and those wide hips, her toned belly, her pale face. Seeing her, it made sense why she was called White Fawn. She did have a really pale face and body. One he had turned red in too many spots to count, with his hands, lips, and cock. 

"Again? Gods, are you even a human, Wylis? I can't even move." Wenda protested, clenching her plump thighs tighter. "I need rest."

"We have the entire night to rest, Wenda. Besides, it's our last night without any chaos." Wylis replied, and still shifted closer, and pulled apart her knees with ease. Looking down at the junction of her thighs, he was still mesmerized by her tight slit he had turned swollen. "Maybe one round, or two. I'll roast the duck I caught later."

Eventually, Wenda sighed and loosened her legs, letting the tall man glide over her and press his hardened cock against her pussy. It shocked her how hard he would get so often, it somewhat overwhelmed her, confusing if she was really that arousing. 

"Fine, but don't expect me to move. I'm limp and sore—Do it yourself."

"Ah, do you like a toy of mine? With pleasure, Wenda—Just don't complain if I get a little rough…"

"Oh!"

Wenda moaned and gasped at the same time as his thick, veiny cock speared through her battered cunt. But she just wrapped her legs around his waist. Still, she couldn't get enough of his body, seemingly carved by gods. Her eyes never stopped eyeing his fine abs, or his chest, lats, obliques, shoulders—His body defied mortals and his cock… 

"Mmmmh… You have… ruined… all cocks for me!" 

She moanfully complained, worshiping that magnificent cock striking so deep she knew nothing else would ever come close again. She was shocked she even took him balls deep, but perhaps, he just shifted her insides and made space. 

"Ungh! Ungh!"

The plaps, the slaps, the sloshing squelches soon echoed as the wild bullish man rutted her down into the bedding like she were a toy for his cock to plunder. There was nothing to do, nothing to react, just accept his plundering plunges with all she had as he pressed down on her. 

When his lips came close, she claimed them herself. That heat was intoxicating. Sex, an unexciting thing in the past to her, was now the most erotic, arousing, and addicting joy she knew. 

"Fu-ck… You… mad-man… I'm already… bred… by your fucking cock! How many more… times aaaaah!"

She just shut her mouth and kissed him. It was pointless to speak as he knocked the air out of her with each pillaging plunge into her love canal. 

Grunts, moans, crackling of fire, breezy air, and a lot of musky scent. 

The third night went by in heat and sweat despite the cold weather. The initial two planned rounds became four and then came some supper. 

Sleep was quite relishing that evening. Tired, and satisfied, it was what they needed before the next day's journey. 

####

Winterfell,

"Ugh… I don't feel good." 

Lyanna dragged herself off her bed. No, it was Wylis' bed. Sometimes, she liked to sneak out of the castle and sleep in the single large room Wylis had made in the stables. She liked the scent of the room and that massive bed. By now, she had stopped thinking or questioning her thoughts. 

She liked Wylis. She liked him a lot. It was a simple fact to her now. 

But what she couldn't understand was the lethargic feeling every morning. The constant anger in her towards everyone around. She hated doing everything. She thought it was due to missing her best friend and her impending doom, her marriage. 

She had taken some remedy from the Maester as well. But nothing helped her. So, she just decided to stay isolated and be with herself. Walk through the Godswood, or do something else. 

That thickheaded brute… I should've joined him.

####

Slash!

"Catch!"

Splash!

"Gods damn you, Wylis! You daft goat! How many times do I gotta say it? Don’t go lobbing heads at me like I’m some sack-cart! Look at me now—drenched in gore, thanks to your arse!"

Wylis smirked, standing in the middle of a large bandit camp, now ruined with a dozen headless bodies sprawled all over. The interesting bit was how each man had their feet stuck in the ground, though Wenda never noticed. 

"It's alright, Wenda. You can just take a bath."

“Oh, I see you clear now! You want my clothes off so you can have another go. Gods, what runs in your fucking veins? Blood or just plain cum?" Wenda whinnied and walked away while cursing, finding a bucket to clean herself. "Don't you come my way!"

Wylis chuckled and started scooping up the skulls, preparing yet another sack. Having already swept through the northern regions of the Westerlands, now he was on his way south, heading towards Lannisport for good. 

He initially wanted to get to Lannisport first. But the prospect of impregnating changed the plan. He wanted as much time as possible with Wenda to ensure she was bred properly and showed signs of pregnancy. And sure enough, she was already pregnant. 

And that meant she had to relocate. Since a war would ravage most of the South, Wenda was expected to reach Winter Town in the North as it would remain untouched. 

After packing the heads in a sack, Wylis found Wenda again, cleaning herself up in the large water tub the bandits had kept. 

"Not today, Wylis."

He chuckled and stood beside the tub while she bathed naked. "I know, I know. Not doing anything. I'll head to Lannisport next. You know what that means?"

She stopped frowning. "I am to head to the North?"

"You are. And you'll live there, be fed, and bring the babe into the world in peace. I'll see to it you’ve got coin, enough to get there without fuss. We're not far from Riverrun—look for a caravan heading north. With Brandon Stark wedding the Tully girl soon, there’s sure to be a few on the road." Wylis explained, as sternly as he could. 

Wenda sighed and got out of the tub, fearless of her nudity. She wore clothes while chuckling. "Suppose I take your gold and piss off to the South—what then?"

“Not many women fit that look—big with child and wearing a scar bold as brass. Might be smart to heed my word. It's best for your life. A war is coming, and only the North will remain untouched."

"Hah!" Wenda chortled. "What do you know of war? You're just a stableboy with a blade and a fat cock to boast."

“Appreciate the kind words,” he said with a crooked grin, clearly pleased but in no rush to talk more. He fished a small pouch from the worn bag slung over his shoulder and passed it over. “Ten Dragons, fifty Stags, and a few copper bits. Plenty to get you to Winter Town. The rest will be waiting there. Ask for a woman named Ros, works in a brothel. She owes me a favor—or two.”

"Oh? Friends with a whore?"

"Shouldn't be surprising. Just a stableboy with a fat cock, no?"

Wenda giggled and took the pouch from him, all dressed up. But then, she got closer to Wylis and gave him a quick hug. "I’ll not see you again, gods willing. You're bad for me and my womb. Once the babe's out, I’m gone, and that’s that."

"So sure already?"

"You're just a lad with dreams too big for his breeches, Wylis. Ambition like that’ll have your guts spilling on a muddy road. I don’t care if you get yourself killed—but I’d sooner not be the fool left mopping up after your mess."

Probably won't say the same once I get the noble titles. 

"Fair enough. If that’s the road you’re walking, I’ll see a thousand Gold Dragons in your hand when you go. Just do me a favor—leave thieving behind. You're fucking shit at it."

Wenda scoffed in anger. "I was doing fine until you showed up."

"Exactly. I'm young, and I'll be around—If I catch you again, you'll give me another babe."

"Fuck off, you rutting goat!"

Wylis just laughed and walked with her to their horses. He rather enjoyed her company. Her humor, her unrestrained mouth. She was as real a company as it could get. 

Soon, she was packed and ready to depart to the North. Wylis handed her some dried meat for her travels. "I'll send a Maester over to you soon. He'll watch over your health. He's a little unhinged, but he's extremely talented."

"A Maester? What's next? You'll say the King will suckle your cock or something?"

"..."

That mere suggestion made his hair stand on end. He hadn't forgotten that ominous Tyrant's Squire notification. 

"He wore the chains once, aye. Until the Citadel cast him out. Not your concern anymore. Doesn’t matter now. Go on, keep your wits, and stay alive."

Pa!

He smacked on Wenda's horse and sent her trotting away. 

Finally, he climbed Caliburn's back and headed South alone, towards Lannisport. 

Hope Lannisters won't be assholes. 

He had rejected House Lannister's offer during the tourney, after all. They had offered to make him a landed knight like the Cleganes. But it was an indirect offer to put a leash around his neck. 

Meeting Cersei will be interesting though.

####

Wylis rode into Lannisport uninterrupted after revealing his identity at the city's gates. Unlike King's Landing, Lannisport inherently felt more organized. Protected by a ring of high and strong walls, the City Watch was also well-armored and patrolled the streets in groups of four or five. The main roads were wide enough for carriages to pass, and the buildings on the side were all selling something, and in some cases, goldwork shops. 

The city felt alive, seemingly at the height of Lannister wealth. He didn't have to travel far and already saw the harbor where dozens of ships of the Lannister fleet were anchored. 

Now that's what I call wealth. Real, hard power, not just a small keep and a dozen soldiers under your command. 

Like usual, he searched for the city's garrison house and hitched his horse there. Then, he walked towards the building's entrance. He was instantly the focus of all eyes around him, dressed in dark grey clothes, cloak, and fur like a Northerner, tall as a giant with an equally massive sword on his back. 

The spear and shield-wielding guards outside the garrison became alert, but not as much as the men of King's Landing. 

"Greetings. I'm Wylis of Winterfell. I’ve been chasing bandits, on His Grace’s orders." He offered a half-smile, voice calm and easy. "The Gold Cloaks in King's Landing were decent enough to hand me a list of the scum lurking in their alleys. Thought I’d try my luck here, see if your watch keeps a list too."

The two guards nodded at the same time. Both at the recognition of his name and the goal. 

"We do have a list," one of them said. 

"But you can't enter. We'll bring the list to you."

Wylis shrugged and took a few steps away from them. “Fine by me. I'll wait here."

Humming to himself, Wylis waited calmly, eying the various establishments around. There were some wine shops, and also a goldsmith shop. Seeing them, he thought of getting a bracelet made for Lyanna as a gift. He did miss her gaiety presence a lot. 

"Stableboy."

Who the fu—

Annoyance written on his face, Wylis turned back to glare at the man. But he didn't when he realized who it was. The only man taller than himself, the one to be famed as the Mountain soon. The one and only, Gregor Clegane, dressed in full armor with the cape of the City Watch on his back, and a helmet on.

Now I know how the ladies feel. He felt threatened by the single foot that Gregor had over him. 

Wylis was usually much more than a foot taller than the women he bedded. So, he wondered what Gregor's experience was. But remembering that the man was more a rapist than a human, he sneered inside. 

"Ser Clegane, it's a pleasure to see you again." Wylis hated that he had to give the man respect. The bastard had become a knight just before the tourney.  

The large knight vocally scoffed. "You're summoned to the castle at once."

A dog indeed. Already working as Tywin's runner? 

"By his lordship? What an honor." Wylis played the part of a fool taking the first step into the noble world. It was better to seem foolish for now, at least until he got his knighthood. "Lead the way."

Wylis grabbed his horse and started following Gregor Clegane. 

Casterly Rock was less than a mile north of the city, so it wasn't that far away. On the horseback, he quickly arrived at the massive entry to the Casterly Rock which was called The Lion's Mouth. It was a natural cavern at least two hundred feet high. The castle itself wasn't much above the ground as it was dug underneath, into the rock itself. 

The entire stronghold—tunnels, dungeons, storerooms, barracks, halls, grand halls, stables, stairways, courtyards, balconies, gardens, a sept, passages, caves, mines, galleries, chutes, wells, barracks, armories, bedchambers, servant's quarters, etc.—lay within the Rock itself.

What an impenetrable castle… except for me. Wylis found it surprising how he didn't feel scared of castles anymore. No matter how big or protected, they were still made of stone, the very thing he had control over. 

Finally, after crossing countless soldiers standing guard on the high watchtowers, and some walls, he entered the main courtyard. In a sense, it was less a castle and a more mountain fortress, like Erebor.

"Wait here." Gregor Clegane coldly ordered, halting Wylis in the middle of the massive courtyard where more than a dozen Lannister soldiers and some blonde-haired likely relatives of the Lannister blood worked around. 

The courtyard was cut in the middle of the rock's tip, making it seem like a crater with high walls all around. The only retreat was the castle or the way he came from.

In front of him was the tower with large golden gates at its base, the likely entrance into Casterly Rock. There were also some balconies on the tower, where he noticed movement. A shapely, voluptuous, golden-haired woman had come out and looked at him directly. She was dressed in red with a gold necklace and bracelet, a cup in her hand.

While she looked at him, he looked at her chest. Her bodice was so tight around her bosom that so much of her breast was spilling out on the top side. 

Who is this stacked beauty?

Sensing movement, he stopped eying the woman and focused on the golden gates. They opened and a small crowd walked out. Other than Gregor leading, everyone else was blonde-haired. 

There she is. 

He noticed Cersei right away. She passed him a smile instantly, looking rather excited. As expected, without Jaime there, she must have been utterly bored and dry down there. 

Then he noticed a small boy, too small, actually. Tyrion Lannister, he reckoned. The boy was nine currently but looked smaller than nine-year-olds. Timid, lacking much confidence, Cersei must have used him as her entertainment. 

Ignoring the other men, he finally eyed the Lord of Casterly Rock, Tywin Lannister. He saw the man for the first time. Tywin still had blonde hair, not the greyish look from the future. With a face still filled with confidence and vigor, the man's stoic face was imposing. Dressed in that fine, deep blue coat with golden patterns, and sword strapped to the waist, the man had some fashion. 

Damn, so much gold. 

Wylis was more interested in how much gold they were collectively wearing. Ignoring Cersei's jewelry, even the men wore many golden rings, some chains on necks, or their belts had gold decorations, and the hilts of their swords were also gold coated. 

"Greetings, your Lordship." Wylis addressed the man, not taking his name directly. He reckoned Tywin didn't want to hear it from a stableboy's mouth. Since the man was still young, the chances were that he wasn't as patient as he would become in the future. 

Tywin Lannister gave a brief nod and stepped aside, not even sharing a word. Instead of him, a different Lannister man came forward to greet Wylis. 

"Seven hells, you're a big one, lad. I’m Ser Kevan Lannister." The balding, portly man, big for common size, stepped closer. "And that beast—beautiful thing. Matches his rider."

"Wasn't easy to find, Ser. But I'm glad I did," Wylis replied, trying to guess what they wanted from him. 

“Fortune smiles on the strong, they say. Perhaps it’s fortune that’s led you here. You see, I’ve made a wager with my brother, Tygett. He’s convinced you’d fall against Ser Gregor Clegane, but I have a feeling you’d best him instead.”

Ah… Of course. I'm no different from a jester to them. 

Wylis eyed the large knight and nodded. "I wouldn't say I'm confident. That is if his sword is as mighty as his height."

"If that’s no trouble, perhaps you’ll spar with him. I suppose I won't get a better chance to settle the bet with my younger brother," Kevan added. 

Wylis gave a glance at Tywin, who stood cross-armed. Cersei's eyes looked amused, as if enjoying it all. Other Lannisters were the same, and even the woman above on the balcony sipped from the cup with interest. 

Want me to put on a show?

"Alright."

Might as well gauge the Mountain I'll eventually have to pass. 

He had big plans for the future, after all. And he had foreseen going against the Mountain. Besides, he really wanted to kill the beastly man with habits as vile as a maggot, which was disrespectful to maggots. Sadly, he couldn't kill him there. 

Wait! I can't kill him but… Hah! Yes! Let's do that!

"Let me remove my leather armor. It's useless in this duel, and I've only got one set." Wylis said and rowdily removed his fur cloak and leather armor, standing there in only his loose, dirty grey tunic. He had no helmet on his face, his neck-length hair free, and his handsome face was on pure display. 

As he grabbed his six-foot greatsword and held it in front of himself, his biceps flexing, revealing his muscled, massive arms. It was a true show, a battle between two giants. The crowd of Lannister soldiers and blonde-haired blood relatives covered the periphery of the courtyard. 

Nobody suggested that they should use sparring swords. Wylis used his real one, sharp and pointy, and so did Gregor Clegane, unsheathing his massive greatsword. The man wasn't used to using that sword with one hand and, hence didn't hold a shield. 

Good for me. 

Still, the difference was visible. Wylis had no armor on him while Gregor was mostly covered in it, even maintaining the helmet on his head. 

Moments later, Wylis held the sword in front to fight and circled. Gregor Clegane did the same, still silent as before. 

"Fight!" Ser Kevan ordered. 

"Haaaa!" Gregor Clegane roared abruptly, his voice as thick and heavy as his body, and he was pretty fast. With the sword raised high, Gregor tried to slash down at Wylis. 

Not as defensive as I expected. 

Wylis, with every inch of his body in its physical peak state, sidestepped right on time and avoided the strike. 

But Gregor swiped his blade towards him at the same time, striking a sideways slash. 

Clank!

Wylis parried the slash with a quick move, blocking Gregor's blade. But the strike was strong, a strength that Wylis felt for the first time. He felt his palm itchy from the vibrations. In pure strength, Gregor was stronger than him. 

"Didn't expect you to move that fast, big guy." Wylis talked despite looking to be on the backfoot. "Strong too."

Ting! Clank!

Wylis parried Gregor's strike, one after the other. Perhaps he would have struggled against the likes of Ser Barristan, but Wylis was far better than Gregor in swordsmanship. After all, the Mountain had just started his knightly career. 

If it's a show you want. I'll give you all one. 

Woosh!

Gregor swiped his greatsword horizontally toward Wylis' belly. 

At the endpoint, Wylis threw himself back. But since his tunic was so loose, it got stuck on Gregor's sword's tip and…

Trrrrrr~

"Ugh! What a waste." Wylis groaned, his tunic got torn apart. So, he wasted no time and fully ripped it off and stood bare-chested. 

CLANK!

Surprisingly, he heard a distant jingle. On a quick glance, it turned out to be that curvy woman on the balcony. She'd dropped her wine cup all the way down, her eyes frozen on his body. And she wasn't alone, even Cersei was the same, and so were the men in the field. Not a single man in Westeros had seen a physique like his. 

Sure, there were muscular men and men with abs. But Wylis had abs and then obliques so defined they also looked like abs. His lats broad, his shoulders well-defined slope, his chest muscles massive pecs of steel-like flesh, his arms so defined, delts, triceps, biceps, extensor. Each of his body's subtle movements made the muscles look more defined as they stretched under his softly tanned skin. 

And then there was his back as he engaged Gregor again. They saw Wylis raise his sword, and flex his back muscles to parry. Trapezius, rear delt, top, middle, wherever. He looked like a man carved from pure muscle. 

At that point, everyone's confidence in Gregor diminished. After all, Wylis looked like a man born to fight and overpower. 

"Haaaah! Parry this!" Gregor roared as he felt the change in the air too. He lunged forward and sent combos of strikes, sideways, below the belt, from top down. 

Clank!

Clank!

Clank!

Wylis deflected each incoming strike with precision while stepping backward, making Gregor follow him around the courtyard like it were a dancefloor. 

It should be enough.

He did just showcase his body there. And sure enough, he received instant rewards as that known ‘ting’ resounded in his head and the blue screen flashed. 

[Cersei Lannister Current Lust - 30%]

It went up from the previous 21%.

Wylis didn't know what would happen when it was to reach a hundred percent. He was sure he'd bed the golden-haired girl. But he wanted a quest to arise from it. 

"Enough playing around," Wylis replied and abruptly sidestepped, ruining Gregor's pace as the big man launched a barrage of attacks. 

Unseen by all eyes, as Gregor tried to step closer toward Wylis again, his front foot lost balance for some reason. Somehow, the ground sank an inch, destroying his flow. 

Using that chance, Wylis took another sidestep and rushed past Gregor from his right and…

CLAP!

Wylis slapped the flat side of his sword on Gregor's ass. "That it? Thought you'd last longer, big guy."

As expected, that made Gregor more violent and uncontrolled. Exactly what Wylis needed. 

"Haaaaagh!" Gregor chased after Wylis. 

Ting!

This time, Wylis smacked his sword on top of Gregor's helmet. It rang like a loud bell, making the men around chuckle. 

CLAP!

On the ass again. 

Ting!

On the head again. 

Wylis made Gregor run all across the courtyard, stumbling, missing each strike. Not once did Gregor make Wylis bleed. But the same couldn't be said about Gregor, not after the next move. 

Time to end it. 

"Size isn't everything!" Wylis declared and jumped forward strategically, aiming to land a straight, downward slash on Gregor's helmet. 

"Gah!" Gregor reacted fast and tried to throw his body backward to avoid it. But for some reason, his heel didn't firmly touch the ground as it sank. That sent Gregor's entire heavy body leaning backward, falling, leaving his front open, legs left wide. 

Wylis had already launched his strike at full strength. The head was never the aim, well not the head covered in a helmet, at least. 

SLASH!

His sword clanked for a second, but Wylis cut through the chainmail easily. The tip of his blade then cut deeper, not the stomach, but further below, somewhere between Gregor's legs as the man was falling back. 

Thud!

And the blood gushed out. 

"AAAAARGH!" 

Gregor instantly shoved both his hands to grab his crotch as it bled profusely, roaring in pain and writhing in a fetal position. 

Wylis stood in his place, eyeing the tip of his sword that had blood on it. He kept a serious, worried expression on his face. Though underneath, he was smiling. 

Try raping now, you sick fuck. 

Then, noticing that the Lannisters couldn't see his face from that angle, he eyed the woman on the balcony and winked at her, giving her a sneaky smirk. Sure enough, the woman leaned forward on the balcony and smiled back. 

With that, he turned around while shaking his sword, ridding it of blood. "I suppose you won the bet, Ser Kevan."

For a while, nobody said anything. They were all busy looking at Gregor screaming on the ground. Even Tywin Lannister appeared shaken. Wylis hadn’t just defeated the man, but completely dominated him, mocked him, and possibly, castrated him. 

"Ser Kevan?"

"Ah… yes. Well done, lad," Ser Kevan jolted and looked at Wylis. "I can see how you dominated the tourney."

Ting!

[Cersei Lannister Current Lust - 35%]

What a fruitful day. 

"Kevan," Tywin said just as he began walking away. "See he's rewarded. And give him the names."

As Tywin left, the others followed behind. Quickly, Kevan had a squire bring a pouch filled with a hundred Dragons. Then, tapping Wylis on his arm, Kevan said a few praising words and left. 

By then, Gregor had been taken away by ten men, and a small puddle of blood was on the dirt still. Wylis hoped that he had struck where he wanted to. But even if he hadn't, the Mountain wouldn't be bedding any woman for a few months. That was satisfactory too. 

"You're as wonderful as the tourney."

He looked back, and then down. Cersei Lannister, ever as sultrily beautiful, stood there. With her deep neckline, he could see the deep shadowy valley of her cleavage thanks to his height and it would have been a lie if he said he wasn't interested. They were pretty, spotless, supple, and more than perfect for her age. In a year or two, she'd be a blooming flower with a rotten personality. 

"Wylis, you should reconsider it. Join my house," Cersei proudly, excitedly advised. Though her eyes never even glanced at his face. She was just looking at his body, tracing his muscles with her gaze. “I’ll see you knighted before sunset and made my personal guardian knight."

She really thinks I'll be honored to do that? What a narcissistic bitch. 

"You can touch them." He knew what she wanted, so he let her. 

Proudly, but with a scoff as if she didn't want to, she extended her right hand, palm spread, and caressed his naked abs right in the middle of the courtyard, before all the gazes. She felt his abs, and dug her sharp nails through the contours slowly, feeling them. But as her hand traced upwards, feeling his chest, her face started to turn red, her eyes dreamily hazy, and her lips parted. 

Ting!

[Cersei Lannister Current Lust - 40%]

Damn! Jaime's absence must've done numbers. 

But he couldn't care less. To him, Cersei's worth was just her cunt, and perhaps her womb. Every womb was an opportunity for extra life, after all. In fact, he felt he would have fallen for Cersei if he hadn't known the kind of woman she was, and would become. 

It even made him wonder what Joanna was like. Too bad, she was already dead. 

"Ehm…" He coughed to stop her as she started to use both her hands to feel his abs and chest. She was constantly stepping closer to him, and too many eyes were on them. Especially the eyes of the busty woman on the balcony. 

“Your offer has my attention, my Lady. Watching over a beauty like you sounds far more thrilling than polishing some knight’s code. And truth be told, I would love to bash the teeth of men who would dare annoy you."

Ugh… This is what I hate. Licking asses… Well, at least it's a pretty one. 

"Mmmh…" Cersei whispered a breathy moan and giggled, pulling her hands away. But she didn't step back, just looked up at the towering man. "But? I sense an excuse."

"No excuse, my Lady—just orders. The King wants a hundred bandit heads, and I aim to deliver. See those sacks on my horse? Thirty heads, give or take. And knowing His Grace's mood swings, best I settle that score before coming back this way."

Of course, he was lying. He had no desire to serve her. With Robert's Rebellion on the horizon, he had plenty of excuses. 

Even Cersei hated the King at that point. Previously, it was her idea to get Jaime to be a Kingsguard. She was living in King's Landing at that time, and she reckoned Jaime would always be nearby if it were to happen. But she didn't expect that by Jaime becoming a Kingsguard, Tywin would be enraged. Enough to leave the post of Hand of the King and return to Casterly Rock. Likewise, she had to return as well. 

"So you do see it. The King has stolen enough of what is mine—more than enough." Cersei mumbled, thinking she was being vague. "I'll give you three months, Wylis. Don't make me regret my generosity."

Who the fuck does she think she is? 

"Of course, my Lady." 

With a nod of his head, Wylis turned around and walked towards his horse. On the walk, he looked at the tower again and smirked. The busty woman he still didn't know sent him a subtle, flying kiss. 

He smiled brightly and put a hand on his left chest, acting as if he was seduced by her charm. At that point, he didn't care about her name. If she was willing, he was giving. 

As expected, the woman giggled and walked back into the tower at last. 

Wylis grabbed his light leather armor and his torn tunic from the ground, tied them on the saddle, and rode out, back towards Lannisport, fully bare-chested. He was to get the bandit list from the City Watch. 

Fuckers didn't even invite me inside. Wylis thought bitterly. 

But again, he was a fucking nobody. 

####

"Aaaaaargh… Uuuug… Noooo!"

Gregor Clegane was a large and powerful man. To keep him pinned down, at least eight men had to work at the same time, holding his head, arms, and legs all spread wide on the bedding. 

"That… fucker… Wh… Aaaaaargh!"

Maester Ormerys tried his best as he checked and disrobed Gregor's loins. After using cotton to clean the blood, he glanced at the wound and sweated profusely. His hands shook, and then he looked at the discarded breeches. He quickly grabbed the discarded breeches and looked inside them. 

"I…" Maester grabbed two pieces of flesh from the breeches and looked back at Gregor's loins. "You still have one ball, Ser Clegane."

"Can I still… fuck? Aaaargh?" Gregor groaned.

"I'm afraid not, Ser Clegane." Maester Ormerys frowned deeply and looked at the flesh in his hand. "What I meant is… you only have one ball left. The other ball and the shaft have been… severed."

"..."

"N-Nooo-noooooh… Aaaaargh! Get away… No!"

####

Having spent the entire day traveling, fighting Gregor, and then getting the list, Wylis chose to spend some days in Lannisport and use it as his base for the bandit hunting. There were a lot of known bandits nearby, after all. 

Thanks to the Lannisters, the city was well maintained. That meant the inns were amazing. He specifically chose a decently high-quality Inn and got himself a two-roomed living quarter rented for a week. Just a week's rent was two golden Dragons. It was a lot for just an inn, considering that was how much a smallfolk family made in a year just to survive. 

But again, he was going to get daily hot water with a bathing wench in his room to take a bath, free fine food as much as he wanted, and other feminine services, for keeping the bed warm at night. He also had a runner for him ready at all times in case he needed anything from around the city. Even the rooms were large, one was a bedroom with a king-size bed, and the other room was a study with plenty of chairs. 

"Good Ser, would you like any other services provided in your chamber?" Asked the innkeeper right at his table as Wylis was busy shoving twenty boiled eggs, chicken, beef soup, and milk down his throat. All top class. 

Wylis knew what the man was suggesting. Three women were standing behind him, after all. All beautiful, one tall with heavy breasts, one less tall with handful breasts, and the third one was shortest with a flat chest. 

Serving everyone's taste? 

"Not today, my friend. I'm tired, I'll rest. Maybe tomorrow." Wylis eyed the women with interest. 

"Of course, Ser. Make demands whenever you please. Please enjoy the supper."

Damn, sure is a fine Inn. The service is fantastic. 

He no longer felt any regrets for wasting two gold Dragons and just enjoyed the experience. He finished his big dinner, then took a small jar of light ale, and headed back towards his room. It was on the second floor of the inn, the top floor. 

Fumbling with the keys with the jar in one hand, he managed to unlock the door and walked in. The place was already lit with candles, hung on the walls in beautiful, glass-covered candle holders. 

Click!

He locked the door behind him, walked over to the table, and placed the jar there. Then, loosening his tunic buttons, he walked into the bedchamber… but he didn't enter. 

"If modesty’s the game, you’ve already lost. Go on then, strip the mystery away. Let me get a closer view."

"..."

Wylis looked back towards the main door. He was sure he had locked it. He then looked back at his bed. It was her sitting on the bed’s edge, legs crossed, one arm under her breasts, supporting the other's elbow as she pinched her chin to show curiosity. 

It was her, the same golden-haired voluptuous woman from Casterly Rock. The one who had been drinking. And as she sat just a few feet away, he was in pure awe. She was indeed, insanely curvy and voluptuous. Not fat, not yet, but she had perfect assets all over. Her face, albeit full, was beautiful, with soft plump lips, big green eyes, and waist-length curly golden hair let loose. Her gown was the same as the day earlier, red, and wide-necked, bodice clung around her waist so tight. 

Didn't expect it to be so easy. Who the hell is she?

Wylis smirked and confidently lifted his tunic, taking it all off, and revealing his nude torso like earlier. “The afternoon had me running ragged, my Lady. Reckon I’ve earned the right to ask your name now?”

"Mmm… You've earned far more than that," she replied and stood up. 

She walked closer to him and just like Cersei before, caressed his bare abs and chest. Except, she had far more unrestrained desire in her eyes. Her head just reached the upper limit of his chest, as they all did. Still, she was taller than all the other women he had bedded so far. 

God damn! Look at those! They're… so… big! 

Wylis was lost in the sight of her round, large tits, fighting to stay contained. And it appeared she liked his hungry look. She liked the height advantage he had. 

Her hands caressed his biceps, and then she started walking around him, touching everywhere, his back, his shoulders, and finally, as she stood in front of him again, she reached for his face. 

"You are the most beautiful, yet masculine man I've ever laid my eyes on." 

"..."

Feels like I'm a zoo animal. 

Then, as her soft, noble finger touched his lips, she smiled with the pride of a Lannister, but the hunger of a lioness. She showed him her beautiful, perfect teeth, and stepped closer until the swell of her magnificent chest pressed against him. 

"I'm Genna Lannister, Wylis of Winterfell." Genna declared, taking special pride in her family name. "And tonight… I want you on top of me."

It was a contradiction. While she took pride in her name, she was also submitting to him like a submissive whore. Though she was clearly no whore, she was too beautiful and noble for one. 

But as Wylis found out her name, he also remembered she was going to turn ugly fat in years to come. Far from her current, plump beauty, and curvyness. Also, she was already married to a Frey. 

"My Lady… you're married. What if…"

"Hmph!" Genna snorted, sneered even. "Emmon? That weak manchild? He wouldn't even whimper even if you were to take me, plunder me right before his eyes. Forget that, forget who I am… I need to taste a real man for once, Wylis… I need you tonight."

Wylis considered her words seriously. He knew the rumors that she was likely unfaithful to her husband and her children weren't trueborn. She was betrothed at the age of just seven, after all. To a fucking Frey of all houses. 

Wait, can she give me… a bastard without consequences? 

"Why? Scared?" Genna, sensing his doubts, pressed her breasts more on his chest and smirked. "Don't tell me, it didn't grow as big as the rest of you?"

"Haha!"

Wylis laughed, full of amusement, then suddenly swept his thick arms around her soft waist, his sheer size enveloping her body like a bear claiming its prey. The difference between them was intoxicating. His strength was overwhelming, and yet the way she melted into it was anything but weak.

Genna was curvy like a feast meant for a king—soft, womanly in every divine sense, a plump beauty that made a man want to devour. 

Wylis traced her waist, then let his rough, work-worn hands drop lower, both palms easily spanning the breadth of her hips and clutching them like meat he intended to chew up and swallow. He dragged her closer until her belly mashed against his thick, rising manhood, the blunt pressure undeniable.

"Oh?" Genna felt his erection and gaped. 

"Careful, my Lady. If I turn serious, you won't be able to walk for a week." Wylis warned her, teasing her rear with his palms heavily fondling her fat ass, kneading them to his desired shape like playdough. 

"Mmmm… Don't… threaten me with a good time." Genna breathed back, moaning her words, squeezing one of her hands between their mushed bodies. 

She shoved her hand down the front of his trousers, and her breath paused. Her palm met heat, girth, and something far too thick to wrap her fingers around. She gasped again, louder this time, eyes wide. The shock quickly curled into something shamelessly thrilled.

“Oh~! So you’re not just big in body… Umm…” she purred, biting her lower lip while her fingers tried, and failed, to circle his cock. Her wrist twisted slightly, stroking him slowly, reverently, teasingly, the weight and throb of his shaft lighting up her arousal like fire.

His girth twitched in her grasp, already leaking, the sensitive slit at his tip drooling precum into her palm as she teased around it with delicate fingers. The head alone felt like something that could split her open, and she was dizzy with the thought.

But it wasn't just her who felt some wetness. Wylis frowned when he felt something wet against his chest. He looked down and realized it was coming from her breasts. It amused and confused him. 

"You're nursing, my Lady?"

As if she woke up from a trance, Genna pulled her hand out of his trousers and stepped away from him. She noticed the wet marks she had left on Wylis' chest. She embarrassingly looked away. 

"Can't help it, Wylis. I'm a mother of three, the last one came out just eleven months back," Genna replied, eyeing his face with concern. "You—"

"And that's supposed to deter me?" Wylis smirked, with complete focus and desire, stepped towards her, and wrapped his arms around her hips yet again. He pulled her in harder, stronger, and leaned his face down. 

He kissed her like he meant to ruin her, prying hers open with his tongue like he was tasting forbidden fruit. That slithering boneless flesh slid in with purpose, claiming her mouth the way his hands would soon claim the rest of her.

Genna melted against him, her noble form squeezing into his frame like it was built for it. Every part of him felt immovable, unyielding. His chest was like stone, his arms enclosing her with such warmth and power that she no longer felt like a lady, just a woman, trembling in the embrace of a man who knew exactly how to hold her.

She gave in completely, letting his tongue swirl deeper into her mouth while she wrapped her arms tight around his neck. Her lips sucking and sloshing against his, tasting his hunger and returning it with growing need.

It had been so long since anyone had touched her like that; not as a Lannister, not as a wife or a noblewoman, but as a woman made of flesh, of curves and cravings. His hands gripped her like he meant to claim her, sliding up and down her sides and hips with greedy familiarity. Her knees went weak with every squeeze, her thighs already aching to be opened for him.

She remembered the hollow ache of her marriage, a trade made before she bled for the first time, her father's ideological weakness taken advantage of by Walder Frey. And now here she was, wed to a pathetic, balding Frey, not even the heir, just a whelp who barely reached her face and fucked her like a fumbling boy. But this, this man, this brute—was making her legs tremble with nothing but his mouth, and already, she felt more taken than she'd ever been in her wretched marriage.

"Ummmm…" Genna relished the sensations, something she had craved. Finally some real excitement in the pleasure of flesh. Finally, she felt her cunt sop for a man. 

This wasn’t mere foreplay; this was need erupting through her body, a slick, pulsing hunger deep inside her cunt.

"Ooooh!"

Wylis didn’t even break the kiss. With a sudden grunt, he hiked up her gown in one swift, hungry motion and seized her thick, under-thighs, wrapping hands around and hoisting her up like she weighed nothing. Her gasp of surprise was delicious. He could feel the shock in the way she tensed. She had never been lifted like that before, let alone by a man so easily.

His rough hands slid beneath her gown and cupped her bare ass—no smallclothes, just creamy, silky skin and the most luxurious softness he’d ever felt. Her ass was heavy and warm, full and ripe, breedable to him, spreading slightly between his grasping palms as he squeezed each cheek with slow, possessive hunger, keeping her in the air.

It was all planned, at least a little. Wylis somewhat understood Genna. Stuck in a loveless marriage with a man not even half as strong as him. Shitty love life and an even worse sex life. What a woman like Genna wanted the most was a good, hard fuck, and he planned to give her an experience that no other man in Westeros would give her. 

She wasn't light like Lyanna or Ashara or even Wenda. But he lifted her with ease. He was hard, in need, and ready to fuck this Lannister woman all night. Better now than when she'd turn too unsightly. 

As he kissed her lips, sucking them dry, he carried her to a wall and pushed her back against it. That way he didn't have to lift her fully, freeing his hands a bit to explore her drenched cunt. 

Still kissing her, he slid a thick finger down between her thighs and into her pussy, and nearly groaned at the feel. 

She was soaked, scorchingly hot, slippery, gushing around his finger as if she’d already peaked once. Her pussy lips clung to his finger like a mouth desperate to suck him inside. She was dripping wet, ready, begging for cock.

Her inner walls milked his finger, her breath coming in desperate whimpers. This wasn’t a lady anymore. This was a soaked, aching, leaking woman, desperate to be ruined.

Holy shit! When was her last fuck? She's craving it. 

"N-Now… do it!" Genna moaned between the kisses, whimpering in his arms, her legs spread and locked around Wylis' muscular waist. "Like this… take me, Wylis… I need it!"

"You read my mind. But…" Wylis stopped kissing her abruptly, even stopped caressing her pussy. "Tell me first… What happened to Gregor?"

Arms locked around his neck, Genna smirked. "What else? Lost his cock and a ball. All he's got now is a single ball, useless."

"..."

"Hah! Oh, you made my fucking day, my Lady." Wylis roared in delight and used one hand underneath her to shove his breeches down around his thighs, releasing his cock. "Let's see if you handle take me."

"If… you hear—oooh!" She felt his cockhead right at her entrance. "If you hear me complain… I'll do whatever you say."

Seriously? That's great! 

That was it. All limiters were erased. He wasn't going to hold back. If she got bruised, so be it. 

"Aaaaaaah! Gods!" 

Wylis slammed his cock into her like a warhammer through butter—no warning, no mercy. 

Her drenched cunt tried to resist, clenching hard around his invading girth, but her body failed to stop the brute force of him. She gasped, breathless for a moment, her slick, welcoming folds spread wide, stuffed full with every inch as he thrust upward.

Using her weight, his grip on her thick ass, and the wall to force himself deeper. He claimed her with such relentless intent that even whores would’ve blushed.

“Mmmmh… I love it! More! All of it!” Genna moaned wildly, body shuddering from the stretch, her walls gripping tight despite the overwhelming fullness. It was more than pain—it was bliss wrapped in agony.

What Wylis didn’t know, couldn’t know—was that the stretch, that invasion of her deepest walls, was her salvation, her pure desire. For years, cock after cock had left her numb, unfulfilled as she had regrettably loosened up from three childbirths. For so long, untouched by excitement. No man ever reached the depths where her fire still lived.

Until now. 

Wylis was splitting her wide, raking every nerve awake as he buried himself in places that hadn’t felt alive in years.

Genna felt resurrected. Her cunt clenched around him hungrily, her insides sparked with every thrust. She felt every bump of his shaft grind against every spot inside her that mattered. And when he finally lodged fully in, balls deep and harder than steel, she swore the tip of his cock punched her womb. It knocked on her cervix like a conqueror demanding entry, and she saw stars. 

He was giving her everything. Everything she wanted and more. A fat cock while dangling in the arms of a beautiful man carved by the gods.

“Oh! Oh! Yes!! This is it! I’ve missed this so…! Fuc–Ahhh!” she sobbed into his shoulder, her nails clawing at his back, her cries trembling with joy and desperation. She held him tight like a lifeline, her thighs locked around his waist. It wasn’t just good—it was salvation.

Plap! Plap!

Wylis lost his damn mind. He didn’t ease in. He didn’t pace himself. From the first stroke, he drove his cock into her like a battering ram, balls clapping her plump ass with every relentless plunge, sending waves of shocks throughout her flesh. Normally he’d fuck slow, build into it, only give a woman half at first. 

But not her. 

Genna took it all. And the lewd squelch of her pussy told him she wanted it all.

The way she gripped him, the way her cunt clung to him like a vice, made him question everything. She was taking him better than most, riding the edge of pain and pleasure like she was made for it. Could he actually lose the bet? 

No! I can't!

So, he slammed her harder against the wall, bent her thick body backward with hands pushing up under her thighs, folded her curvy form like a toy, and shoved her higher, using the wall as her brace. With both hands gripping under her legs, he drove into her like he wanted to leave dents in the stone. Her bouncing flesh absorbed the brutal pounding, her whole body jiggling and writhing with every slam. 

Her moist pussy was soaked, dripping, filthy with lust like a fruit squeezed. It slurped around his cock with every savage stroke, a slick chorus of squelching and wet flesh slapping echoing off the walls. He drove into her like he wanted to nail her to the very stone; a desecration, a sculpture of sin, flesh on flesh.

“Ah! Ah! Yes! Ah~! Yes! Fuck me!” Genna yelped again and again with each thrust. Each violent snap of his hips sent waves of obscene pleasure through her dripping cunt. The carnal desire of letting a true man fill up her dirty little cunt, stretch it wide, and pound her to submission.

Her breasts, heavy and full, bounced and jolted with each fucking thrust, aching to spill free of her bodice. She still leaked, however, dotting Wylis' chest in little leaks of warm milk. Each thrashing pump made her leak more, the stimulation turning her into a trembling, milky mess.

Her gown was bunched at her waist, ruined, stained with milk above and her glistening nectar below. Her hips jerked, her head thrown back in ecstasy as she cried louder, a noblewoman no more—just a panting, milk-leaking whore blessed by the hammering of a real man’s cock.

"Ooooooh! That's it… I can feel it! It's coming! I'm going to… cum on your… fat fucking cock! Oh dear!" Genna wailed, voice half-broken from strain and pure, undiluted pleasure. 

Her body stiffened in his grasp, her thighs quivering violently around his cock, eyes widened in disbelief that she could feel this much from a real fuck.

Then she came. Hard. 

It hit her like a lightning strike to the cunt, tearing her apart from the inside. Her pussy convulsed and gushed around Wylis’ cock, coating his shaft with thick, sticky juice as her body spasmed in uncontrollable waves. It wasn’t soft or sweet, it was animalistic, primal. Her walls rippled, pulsing with loud, wet squelches as her nectar leaked in syrupy ropes down his balls. 

For the first time in years, she wasn’t pretending. No fake moans, no feigned tremors—just pure, soul-sucking climax shaking her to the bone.

Pinned to the wall, her legs bent and raised so far she couldn’t believe they still trampled like that, Genna felt his cock hammering into her overstretched pussy. Her pussy was puffy, swollen, her folds battered and her slit glistening with juices, but Wylis didn’t slow down. 

His grunts. 

The slurpy, squelching claps.

They were music to Genna.

His cock churned her insides, hips slapping like he was milking her, not even phased by her orgasm. The mess between her legs turned hot and slippery, soaking everything from her inner thighs to the back of her ass, her loose gown barely there, still clung around her waist.

His wide chest pressed her so thoroughly into the stone wall that he no longer needed both arms to hold her up. As if her thick, curvy body stayed balanced on his cock alone. So, his one hand slid up, and his fingers hooked around her neckline.

“Mind if… I… tear it?” he growled, already tugging.

"Nooo-oh! Do… anything… you want! Gods, I love this fat cock! You better not… forget me… after this!"

Trrrrr~

Her gown gave way under his grip like paper soaked in oil, splitting down the front as he tore it clean apart from her chest to her belly. Her soft stomach spilled forward slightly, untoned but warm and inviting, but his eyes, and hands—were drawn higher.

Her tits were massive. Pale, porcelain-fair like the rest of her, their size exceeded what even his thick, calloused hands could grip. His fingers sank into their divine softness, veins traced faintly under the skin like rivers under snow. The areolas were wide and dark pink, nipples thick and erect, engorged and ready to be drained. He couldn’t stop touching them; she was pure, heavy, fertile flesh.

Plap! Plap! Plap! 

The rhythm didn’t stop. His cock kept hammering her cunt mercilessly while the sound of clapping flesh bounced off the walls.

“There… take them…” Genna offered, lifting her heavy tits with both hands, cupping them toward his hungry face. They bounced despite her grip, round and glorious, still firm with motherhood, the skin silky and warm.

Wylis, returning both hands to hold her in place, buried his mouth on her right breast, clamping down like a beast in heat. He suckled with a force that made her dangling knees jerk, tongue swirling and lips pulling, fucking her with his hips and his mouth at the same time. 

She wasn’t Genna Lannister anymore. She was just his dripping slut, moaning with every suck, her pussy fluttering in response.

“Ummm…” Wylis felt the first gush fill his mouth. Thick, warm, rich, like cream mixed with something faintly sweet. It coated his tongue, slow and heavy, like honey dripping from the comb.

But then he stopped, the taste wasn’t quite his thing. However, right then he remembered something. 

Wait, isn't this sort of milk very high in protein? 

“Ummmmmhh… Fuck! You’re delicious, Genna!” he groaned, before slamming his face back into her breast. He suckled rougher now like he wanted to strip her dry. 

“Ooohh~ Gods!” She yanked his hair and cried out, overwhelmed. 

He drank her like a starving ox, slurping down the maternal milk like it was spiced wine. His hips never slowed. It was a strange yet erotic sensation, fucking a woman, trying to drain his cock in her while also draining her tits with his mouth.

His mouth kept sucking as his cock kept drilling. He threw her up and down against the wall with ease. Each thrust sent shockwaves through her soft body, rippling her full breasts against his lips like a waterbed. Every suck of his mouth made her pussy pulse around his cock, clenching as if begging him not to stop, milking him back in return.

"Yes… take it… savor me! Ummm… fuck! It's coming again! Ooooh!" Genna shrieked, her whole body twitching in raw delight.

Her second orgasm hit like a shiver. A new wave of slickness drooled down his shaft. Her juices rolled over her swollen folds, dripping down the curve of her ass in wet trails, and splattered softly onto the stone floor with every thrust that followed.

“Ohhh… Gods! You're so—ooh good at this! Yess… yes! Drink me dry, dear! It’s all for yo—oh! Only you! Fucc… Ye–shhh!” Genna slurred. 

She could feel her tits emptying with every greedy pull of his mouth, her nerves on fire, her body not even hers anymore, just a tight knot for jumbled lust. She no longer had any regrets. Flirting with this man was worth every fucking thrust of his cock and suckle of his mouth.

Wylis devoured both breasts like a starving beast, leaving no drop behind. Milk leaked from the corners of his mouth, dripping down her belly and slicking her skin in wet trails. Once satisfied, he pulled back with a smug grin and leaned in, his lips glistening.

"Taste it… taste yourself," he growled and claimed her mouth, tongue plunging in deep. 

Genna kissed him back hungrily, swirling her tongue around his, moaning into the mess of their mouths. She tasted herself, her milk, her filth, his spit, and it only pushed her deeper into depravity.

“Ugh…” Wylis grunted, on the verge of spilling. His hips slammed harder, faster, wildly shoving into her. “W-Where… Genna?”

Genna tightened her arms around his neck, pulling him close until her nose brushed his. Her eyes were wide and wet. She didn’t hesitate.

"In… me-eeeeh!"

"But… what if you get…" Each word came out between gritted teeth as he kept shoving his cock into her, her pussy milking him like it wanted a babe.

"Yes! I want it… If not you… then nobody! I want it… give me a babe… put it in meeeee-eeeh! Yes, yes, yessss!"

Seriously? She wants me to impregnate her? Wait… She can't be the only unsatisfied noble woman… What if… fuck! Let's think later!

"Fine! Take it! Take my fucking seed, Genna! Birth me a big, beautiful bastard! And give it… a Lannister name!" 

He pushed her thighs up higher, curling her body against the stone wall until she bent like a folded bow, her soaked pussy stretched open and waiting. He plunged his flesh sword deep, burying every last inch, cock soaked and balls slapping against her swollen folds. She was dripping, but now it was time for his mess.

"Gaaaah! I can-ah! Feel it… inside!" She screamed in pure pleasure, feeling the heat of his embalming injection.

Wylis exploded. His cock kicked and throbbed inside her, unloading a monstrous load straight into her needy womb. Hot, thick cum shot into her like a river breaking its dam. Her walls were painted white in seconds, drenched in heavy spurts that refused to stop. It pulsed again and again, stuffing her sacred love cave until she was full and overflowing. 

The heat of it made her toes curl, the pressure made her moan like she was coming again.

"Mmmmmmh… I can feel it in me! Gods, Wylis… you magnificent… man!" She gasped, totally filled, utterly broken open.

Their mouths met again, feverish and slow now, tongues dragging against each other in the messy aftermath of shared delirium. 

Genna was fucked raw, her pussy still twitching around the massive cock inside her, her mind hazy with aftershocks.

Thud!

As began turning soft, Wylis tried to lower her gently, but she slumped straight to the cold floor, knees hitting the stone with a soft thump. Her thick thighs spread, her plump rear settling wide and lush. Her pussy dripped his seed in slow, heavy globs, a glossy mix of cream trailing down from her ruined hole.

But she didn’t cry or moan. No. She looked up with hunger, hands already moving.

She grabbed his half-soft cock, now glistening and flushed, smeared with their combined filth. Without hesitation, she wrapped her soft lips around it and took him into her mouth.

Despite the musky heat, the scent of sweat, milk, and sex, she sucked greedily, tongue swirling, licking every inch. She cleaned his cock with her mouth like it was a delicacy. Her cheeks hollowed, her eyes shut tight in bliss, lips locked tight around the base.

"Umm…" Wylis stayed standing, panting, watching her bob her head and lick him so good he was already getting hard once more. The night was not over, he knew it.

Ting!

[Trueborns & Bastards Triggered!]

[Name: Genna Lannister
Age: 37
Occupation: Mother, Advisor
Current Loyalty: 30%
Status: Impregnated]

What? Already? 

Ting!

[Tyrant’s Title Acquired - Enemy of the House Lannister
Description - How dare a filthy lowborn touch the sister of Lord Tywin? How dare a nobody impregnate the cherished mother figure of the future Queen. Beware in the land of lions, for this one may bite to kill.
Effect - Making love to Genna Lannister will make you stronger by 0.02% each time. Her loyalty increases by 0.10%
Current Loyalty - 30%]

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Straight to an enemy? Why? She came to me! 

Ting!

What the… What now? 

[Mad King's Admiration Triggered]
[Mad King's Current [Censored] - 99.2%]

No! No, no, no!

Wylis, in pure horror and paranoia, looked left and right at the entire room, at the stone walls. Genna was still sucking him like it were a sweet, honey-dripping cock, the sound of her wet suckles audible. But that only made it more terrifying. 

Did someone see us? 

Only that made sense why King’s admiration would increase. The King hated the Lannisters. 

Is someone still watching us?

____________________

A/N: Just started working on a Wylis X Rhaella Targaryen artwork. Will update soon.