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Various characters Imagines

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Words: 2029
Warnings: smut, (sexual) slavery


 

“Your grace?” Mormont was all but delighted to enter Viserys’s tent, even if he was joined by one of Khal Drogo’s men. It was dangerous, a dragon’s cave—and that quite literally. Sighing mutely, he took a step forward when there was no response, letting the rough fabric of the tent’s entrance fall back into place.

You followed him, your hands clasped behind your back as darkness swallowed you both, with only a few candles lighting the inside of the provisory shelter. It was late already, the sun long gone. Out in the open, far away from the city, you spent hours on end counting the stars above, lighting the black sky.

It was one of the few perks of living with the Dothraki, appreciating nature and enjoying a simple life to the fullest—or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. The murder, the violence and the rough sex you saw you barely coped with, even many years after your poor father had sold you to Khal Drogo to secure his own survival and that of his horse farm. You sincerely hoped all the horses had fled by now, leaving him without anything to trade or sell.

“Your grace? Khal Drogo sent us.” Mormont tried again, raising his voice just a bit.

Finally, there was a faint movement in the shadows the candles in the room threw against the fabric of the tent. Viserys stepped into the small light cone one of the small flames provided, his blonde head tilted in both curiosity and indignity.

“Oh? Does he consider himself too good to endow me with his presence himself?” His voice sent ice cold shivers up and down your spine. Each and every word was like a cloud of smoke coming from his mouth—with but a few more, he would breathe fire. Like a dragon.

“In fact, he sent us with a peace offering.”

Surprised, his face lit up, giving you enough time to study his facial features. He was a handsome young man, a man who had been forced to grow up too fast. You knew his backstory of course—of how his father had gone mad on the throne, of how he and his sister had been expelled from their very home, stripped from their birth right; and yet, it did not excuse the way Viserys treated the people around him. The people who, by any means, would help him take back what rightfully belonged to him.

Rough Dothraki filled the room, complicated words which Mormont quickly translated faster than you could understand them yourself.

“He realises you are impatiently waiting for your crown—your sister has appeased him enough to bury the hatchet for the night. He has brought you a gift.”

“Well…” Viserys scoffed, a light smile tugging at his lips. “At last a little common sense.”

The Dothrakan man glared at you, a stern nod commanding you to step into the light. Viserys blinked when he watched you approaching him, your own expression all but neutral. You were used to this, after all. Two Dothrakan women had braided your hair, wrapped you in a beautiful and revealing dress and put jewellery around your wrists and neck—you made the perfect Dothrakan pleasure slave, only pale instead of golden, tanned and sun kissed.

“Hm,” For a while, it was the only sound the Targaryen made. “Well then, leave us alone.” He said then, his commanding tone making you flinch.

Leave us alone.

Mormont nodded, translating quietly what Viserys had said. They both disappeared, not bothering to give you one last apologetic glance.

“You don’t look like a Dothrakan whore.” Viserys spoke up, raising his voice just a little to demonstrate you were all but beneath him. “Oh, what am I bothering, you don’t understand me anyway.”

“I do, actually.”

“You do?” He snarled, indignant once more as he tilted his head again. “How did you learn to speak the common tongue?”

“I am not Dothrakan. I was born on a horse farm in Westeros. My father sold me to Khal Drogo when I was a child. I have been serving his men as a pleasure slave ever since.” Only when you spoke it out loud, the ice cold reality of what you were hit you like a tidal wave. It hurt, admitting it. You had initially wanted to become a tailor, working with fabrics and the most beautiful dresses the seven kingdoms had ever seen.

“Well… I’m assuming the beauty of a girl like you shouldn’t go wasted on a minging farm. Surely, your talents are not being wasted around here, wouldn’t you agree?” He teased. There was a hazardous playfulness in his voice. Don’t wake the dragon, you thought to yourself, taking a deep breath.

“Take off your clothes. Let me see if Drogo’s gift is worth a look.”

And if not? Would he kill you? You had heard stories of this man; that the true heir of the Iron throne was as mad as his predecessor. Despite all that had happened to you, Drogo’s men had never raped you. You were a slave in a way and you gave pleasure rather than receiving it but there had not once been violence.

If you disobeyed Viserys… would there be violence? His expectations were so high you felt fear clawing at your heart.

With trembling fingers, you removed your dress. It pooled at the ground like a waterfall, framing your exposed form like a witch’s circle you could not escape until he motioned for you to come closer. You approached him in an almost trancelike state.

“You really are a pretty girl.” He hummed satisfactorily. “If you do your task well tonight, I might even keep you. I could not imagine sharing you with those filthy nomads.”

Eliciting goose bumps, his soft fingers reached up to ghost over your skin, caressing the mounts of your breasts and awakening an inexplicable desire deep inside you. There was something gentle about his touch, something appreciative. Maybe there wouldn’t be any violence after all, yet you still did not dare to move.

Viserys’s thumb explored one of your nipples, a mischievous smirk growing on his face when he watched it harden under his treatment. You could, of course, not control the reactions of your body… but you could also not deny you were beginning to enjoy his attention.

The Dothraki were all but ruthless and aggressive, impregnating their women like horses. You never knew what tender love making was… would this change now?

“I want you to pamper me tonight. Worship me like the king I shall be.” Viserys spoke, his voice quiet but commanding, allowing no contradiction. So you simply nodded to which he retreated and made himself comfortable on his bed.

He raised his dark eyebrows when you failed to move with him. “Well? Get on with it.”

You resisted the urge to cover yourself when you obediently nodded once more and then climbed on the mattress as well, your slightly shaking hands working quickly to undress him and his green eyes never leaving your form, studying your every expression until you slid off his soft shirt and removed his trousers.

The Dothraki never took long to get aroused. Mostly, when you visited their tents, they were already rock-hard, waiting for your warmth to sheath themselves inside you. Viserys was different. His length was impressive but only half-erect when you freed it, waiting for your attention.

He smirked again, impatience sparkling in his eyes when he noticed your hesitance.

“Use your mouth.” He ordered. Your face fell. Your mouth? Use it for… what? “Well, go on!”

Sucking in fresh air, you lowered yourself until your lips almost touched the tip of his manhood. Did he… want you to use your mouth to pleasure him? You had no idea how to do that!

Testing out what could possibly arouse him, you stuck out your tongue to lick over his entire shaft. His increased breathing encouraged you to repeat the action a few times, then, you felt brave enough to wrap your lips around his tip, playing with the slit with your tongue.

A moan escaped his lips, his head falling back onto the pillow to reveal a pale and long neck. He was enjoying it.

Not knowing what to do next, you simply forced him deeper down your throat, taking as much as you could before you were overcome with the urge to gag. You felt Viserys harden between your lips, his member twitching a little as he bucked his lips and fucked up into your mouth.

So this was what he wanted. He wanted to fuck your mouth. Understanding now, you looked up to see him panting on the mattress, his green eyes closed with relish and while he kept thrusting, you started moving your lips up and down his length again and again. Your cunt was a lot tighter. Would it be more pleasurable for him if you sucked?

He moaned again when you tried, grumbling something in a language you did not understand. Was it Valyrian?

Then, suddenly, he lashed out, practically screaming at you.

“Stop! Stop now!”

Your eyes widened as you pulled away with a silent smack of your lips, licking them only to taste him on yourself.

“Have I done something wrong, your grace?”

“Quite on the contrary, my sweet. I want to fill your cunt, not your mouth.”

“Oh,” The impact his naughty words had on your body was beyond thrilling. You could feel yourself throbbing for him, your flesh growing wet to accept his cock and receive his semen. Only now did you realise that sucking him off had aroused you too.

Viserys sat up, lifting you on top of him effortlessly. His warm hands gripped your hips so tightly you were sure he would leave bruises, yet the pain was all but irrelevant when you felt his pulsating length against your entrance, pushing inside demandingly.

He filled you to the fullest, your walls clenching around him. With your chest heaving, you dug your nails into his chest in a desperate attempt to get used to his intrusion. It felt so different… you had never been so wet for anyone…

Although you never gave pleasure in this position, now you finally knew what to do. You rode him eagerly, focusing on his climax. Men were easy to read. You would know shortly before he spilled himself inside you.

Once again, Viserys closed his eyes, enjoying you working his most intimate parts to drive him towards his blissful peak. Only you were nearing your own climax as well. With every single thrust, every single movement of yours, you felt your arousal growing. What if you came before he did? Would he get mad? Oh but you couldn’t control it… he would most certainly get mad at you if you simply stopped to regain your composure…

Torn between pleasure and duty, you were unable to fight it any longer. You orgasmed with a scream, gushing around him and contracting, milking his hard cock inside you.

Viserys moaned. He ripped his eyes open with a start, overwhelmed by the sensations around his member. Your loss of control was all it took to toss him into an abyss as well. Pulsating and twitching inside you again and again, he shot ropes of his cum deep inside you. He would have collapsed after he had spilled himself completely, if he hadn’t been relaxing on the bed already.

You were panting heavily when you crawled off of him, his cum oozing out of you. Usually, men needed breaks in between love making. You would do what every good pleasure slave did and give him some space. When you moved to leave his bed, however, his indignant tone made you flinch.

“Where are you going? You belong to me for the whole night.” He paused, looking you directly in the eye. Your eyes widened when he continued. “And you will for the following nights too, that I will make sure.” It was beyond hard to tell whether this was a good… or a bad thing. Perhaps you had woken the dragon after all.