"What do you want?"
… It had been... A strange couple of days for Bradley since he had been knighted. The antlered knight he now knew to be Lord Robert Baratheon had been surprisingly friendly, especially compared to how the nobility appeared prior to that. The lord whose house symbol was a stag, explaining the antlers, went out of his way to introduce Bradley around to his friends, other lords whose names he was probably supposed to know. It was in these conversations Bradley finally got some decent context for the wheres and whats of the world he found himself in. A continent called Westeros, split into seven kingdoms all ruled by the perpetually grimacing and sneering king Aerys Targaryen. One king for seven kingdoms seemed odd but there was probably some history there.
And so, Bradley had met the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. As if meeting a family only a step down from the king's own wasn't an indication of Bradley moving up in the world, Robert had introduced him to the Starks or at least the Stark children. Their father, the Warden of the North Rickard Stark was not in attendance. Bradley wondered if that was better or worse for him. At the very least the Starks he met were near his own age.
Brandon, the eldest and heir. He seemed torn between trying to get Bradley to swear fealty to the Starks and challenging him to a fight, boldly claiming he wouldn't be as easy to unhorse as Clegane had been. Benjen, the youngest, mostly found amusement in lords and knights alike fawning over the giant man no one had ever heard of a day before. Eddard, the middle brother, he was polite. Friendly even. But quiet, usually letting his more boisterous siblings carry a conversation.
And then there was Lyanna. The woman standing before him now in ill-fitting armour, a shield with a smiling weirwood tree blazoned on it left discarded on the floor. The old, dusty storage room below the castle cast in awkward silence.
He'd just been a bystander for everything that had led to this situation. A boy apparently from a noble family was being harassed by some squires, Lyanna had taken exception to that and chased them off with a sword. She was very impressive, Bradley had briefly entertained thoughts of trying to win her over but the constant talk from Robert of how she was his betrothed forced him to set such thoughts aside. She had never looked particularly happy about it whenever Robert brought it up but that wasn't really his business.
And then during the tournament festivities, a strange knight appeared, later named the Knight of the Laughing Tree. The knights the squires attended were challenged by the mystery knight and he defeated each one, taking custody of their horses and armour. The knight's terms for returning the property of the defeated was for them to teach their squires honour. And then... The mystery knight left. The king declared him an enemy of his and demanded he be found and killed. Robert and Brandon wanted to unmask him.
Bradley? Bradley had wanted to recruit him. It could have been the start of his wandering adventuring band! His very own Unstoppables! The Silver Shroud to his Grognak! It would have been perfect!
So when Bradley found the mystery knight, found a woman struggling to take off her makeshift armour. Muttering, "Bloody bugger-fucking buckles come off already, fucking–". Well he found himself feeling excited. Excited because this was even better than he had hoped! Lyanna wasn't his Silver Shroud! She was his Maula! No, wait... Maula was kind of a nut-job in the comics. Maybe his Mistress of Mystery? Yes! A mysterious heroine, fighting to right injustices across the land!
And he was only a moment later disappointed. Because like the Mistress of Mystery was for Grognak, Lyanna was promised to a friend. The Mistress would marry the Silver Shroud, Lyanna would marry Robert.
Damn.
"Well?" Lyanna demanded, not the slightest bit meek from being caught by a man near twice her size. "So you caught me. What of it?" She tried to fold her arms defensively but the pauldron she was trying to remove got in the way, hung awkwardly by a strap over her breast.
Bradley palmed his face, frustrated at the potential future he would be letting go. How many brave, strong warrior women was he going to find in a dark ages society like this one? Still, sliding his hand down his face he wiped away his regrets and stepped forward. "Let me help you with that armour."
She remained defensive, stepping back on instinct as the hulking figure approached. Bradley raised his hands in placation and she, reluctantly, stood in place and allowed him to find the buckle she was struggling to reach and unfasten it. The other pauldron followed, and then Bradley circled behind her to get to work on the cuirass. "How did you even get this on?"
Bradley couldn't see it but Lyanna blushed faintly. "Ned helped me."
"Your brother? The quiet one?"
She nodded. "He wasn't happy about it, called me foolish."
"Well you certainly stirred things up," Bradley informed her. "The king's after your head, calling you an enemy of the crown."
"Me?!" she yelped.
"Err, the 'Mystery Knight'. Sorry. He's got people looking for him. Brandon and Robert are looking too."
"And you?" Lyanna asked.
"I had my own reasons," Bradley answered cryptically.
Lyanna had never been one for accepting such non-answers. "And what might those reasons be?"
"... I was hoping to recruit the mystery knight. Start a band of wandering adventurers."
She laughed openly at his answer. "And Ned said I was the only one who could have such foolish romantic notions of knights! Allow me to guess, you changed your mind on finding out I'm a woman?"
"No way! You being a woman made it way better!" the big man denied fiercely as the last strap came free, allowing the cuirass to come loose. "I changed my mind when I found out it was you, when I remembered you're getting married in a few weeks."
She sniffed in derision, "Right." But as she looked at him, to show the doubt plain on her face, she met his eyes. And found nothing but honesty there. "You... Really would have?"
Bradley nodded, letting his regret show plain on his face.
"Ha!" A burble of wet, choked laughter escaped Lyanna's lips as she looked away again, tossing aside her cuirass in an open show of frustration. "The gods certainly are cruel, aren't they? A chance comes along to seize everything I've ever wanted but only when it's too late for me to take it." Furiously she wiped at her eyes. "Gods I'm such a girl sometimes!"
"I mean... Robert doesn't seem that bad?" Bradley said in an attempt to comfort her. Crying girls were well beyond his realm of expertise. He just wanted to say whatever might make her feel better. "He's a kind of fighting, adventuring type too, right?"
Her tear-streaked face turned sour. "Oh yes, if you invited him I'm sure he'd go with you. His wife, though? Never. A wife is for pushing out sprogs to continue his line and polishing his cock when he demands it. That is if he isn't out giving it into some back-alley whore. My brothers might try to hide his indiscretions but I'm not an idiot! I know what his nightly trips to Harrentown are about, only weeks before– Ah!" Her tirade is cut of with a yelp as she feels Bradley's arms wrap around her from behind. "What are you doing?!"
"You sounded like you needed a hug."
"Th-This is not appropriate conduct for a knight with a daughter of a noble house!"
"Do you want me to stop?"
Her silence was answer enough. Turning around in his arms to lean into him was going above and beyond. The size difference between them painted an amusing picture. He was more than half again her height and so broad. It felt comforting, reassuring, as he held her. It felt a little like when she was small, when her father was simply Father, not Lord Rickard Stark, the man who sold her for the sake of political games. When he was the man who she looked up to. The man she wanted to emulate. But no. Young ladies weren't meant to be warriors. Young ladies were to sit and meekly obey their lord husband's command and care only for children. Young lords would go down to Wintertown and get their cocks wet in some whore, while young ladies must protect their maidenhead, else lose the only value they had!
…
She looked up, into the kind, caring brown eyes of the giant, his lips turned up in a worried but patient smile.
… Her blood was still up from the fights, from the rush of getting caught. It had already been a day of foolishness. What was a bit more she asked herself as she reached between them, pulling at his belt buckle.
"Lyanna?" Bradley asked a handful of questions at once, frowning at her sudden change.
"Don't tell anyone about this," she warned with severity, even as she continued to work at his pants. They insisted she be the good girl. The obedient girl. Well fuck them for never understanding or caring who she really was! She wanted to feel wanted, desired for who she really was, not just Robert's pretty little prize brood mare! She had lost her maidenhead while training years ago. Robert would never know that she had been 'soiled'.
And she really believed that. Right up until she finally managed to unfasten and pull down her chosen lover's bottoms, his manhood springing up to smack her on the chin. With wide eyes and open mouth she marvelled at the size. As she took him in hand, hands, running delicate fingers along it she realised there might actually be a chance Robert might find something amiss if she took this inside her.
… Sod it. She'd already come this far. Besides, she liked that little intake of breath Bradley made when she laid her hands upon his member. The brave warrior that took down all challengers and saw Robert retreat with his tail between his legs, and yet here he was frozen in place as she toyed with his length. Yes, she could get used to this feeling. "Lie down," she ordered, using her 'noble' voice.
To Bradley's credit, he didn't scramble to follow her orders but he wasn't unhurried either. His eager, twitching manhood stood tall and proud, his eyes locked on her as she pulled off her borrowed gambeson and threw it away, soon followed by the rest of her clothes.
Bradley wasn't going to complain that a pretty noble girl was climbing atop him, preparing to give him her virginity. But at the same time... "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked. She could make her own decisions. It was one of the things he liked about her. But even so... This could cause problems down the line.
As she settled herself over his length, she smiled with certainty at him. "That you're even asking me that means yes, I'm certain." She perched herself atop his crown, slowly settling her weight down on it, "Mn!" she grunted, trying push herself down, feeling her lower lips try to stretch to accommodate the massive intrusion.
"Hold on," Brad bade her, pulling himself away from her lips with one hand and settling her down on the shaft. "There's no rush, no one else is coming down here. Let's get you a little more ready, okay?"
"Ready?" Lyanna asked, confused. What did he mean? Nan had only told her that the cock would go inside her, that it would hurt the first time... And then that other nanny that worshipped the southern gods chased her off before she could explain any more. The old witch.
"Here," he unbuttoned his tunic and oh wow, she gasped at the sculpted physique the giant was blessed with. Her fingers eagerly started tracing the divots between packed muscle. "That's good, now rub yourself along the length," he continued, taking a hip in hand and guiding her forward and backward in a gentle rhythm.
"Ooh," she cooed, it felt quite nice, the stiffness rubbing at her folds, nudging the little button she discovered on nights she was feeling daring. Nights she was certain, or at least very much hoped she was alone.
As she moved, Bradley guided her, settling her legs under her instead of splayed out on the floor. As she got comfortable in her new position, enjoying the frisson from her increasingly slick lower lips, Bradley's hands came up to feel her as she was, him. Strong yet surprisingly soft hands running up her waist, thumbs sliding over her ribs as his palms came in to fondle her breasts. She had never considered her breasts on her nights of experimentation. Yet more discoveries to be made. But for the moment, "I want to try again," she said, lifting herself off of him, a string of liquid extending between where they had been connected.
Bradley nodded his assent, guiding his manhood to rest at her entrance. Once again, "Hm-mmmm!" she lowered herself down, this time the head slipping in prying her body open. "Mmm! Hm! Hm! Hm!" she panted out as she slowly slid down the shaft, "Ah!" She was surprised when she felt her hips connect with his. "I did it!" she panted out with an excited smile! She was a woman now! She didn't get any new great wisdom with the change, no great revelation that she had ruined her life or any of that rot! That Septon could go hang!
Best of all, it felt good. Not just satisfying for thumbing her nose at her father or Robert or the Seven, though that was a factor. It was just a wonderful feeling having Bradley inside her, touching places no one ever had before. Every throb of his cock sending shudders of pleasure from head to toe. She felt full, she felt wonderfully stretched out, she could even see a little bump in her belly where there was none before. He was that deep in her?
"Are you ready?" Bradley asked. Ready? Ready for what?
He took hold of her hips, slowly lifting her– "Hm!" she groaned with her mouth shut. It felt–! It felt–! "Mhmmmmmmm!" She bit her lip hard enough to bleed, the pleasant shudders becoming a single great crash with almost no warning! Her toes curled, her legs shook and seized, her world turned white as the pleasure overwhelmed her!
Bradley was simply left lying there blinking. Had she just cum from just that? Oh, this poor, sheltered noble girl was in for the ride of her life.
Even as the aftershocks ran through Lyanna's body, Bradley began lifting her again, pulling a panicked yelp from the poor girl. And down again. And up again. "Mm," she whimpered, "Mm mimim!" Those weren't even words. Sending a silent apology to Robert, Bradley sat up and pulled her gibbering, wide-eyed form into his chest.
And then, he started in earnest.
"HmmmmMMMMMMM!" she squealed through thinned lips, her eyes screwed shut as she felt the next great crash hit her.
Minutes later, the poor girl was a mess. Her lower lips gushing so much he worried she might be dehydrated. Her eyes were vacant, her tongue hanging out and trailing along his muscular chest.
The constant clenching of her already tight pussy wasn't exactly easy on him either and he felt his own finish approaching. His upper brain screamed at him to pull out, that even with everything that had happened that day, the absolute last thing he should do was finish inside her.
His lower brain simply reminded him just how good, how primally satisfying it was to empty himself into a willing cunt.
In that split second, the lower brain won. The surprise encounter with a noble daughter ended with her giddily insensate and her pussy flooded, even bloated with his hot cum.
Lyanna's response was a happy little gurgle and the fluttering of her big grey eyes. Utterly fuck drunk.
"Well..." he mused to himself, "This could be a problem."
He waited with her. For her to come around. It probably wasn't in his best interests to take a noble girl's virginity, willingly given or not, and then bail. So he waited the hour and a half it took for her to wake again. The evening feast would begin in an hour. Her brothers were probably wondering where she was. Or at least two of them would be.
When she finally awakened, Lyanna felt... Sore. Pretty much all over. Like she had fought three knights in a row and then had her body ravaged. Which had happened, so it was an accurate feeling. Thankfully her reaction to his spilling himself inside her wasn't severe. Outwardly she told him it was fine while inwardly she dreaded finding out what moon tea actually tasted like. Even so, she suggested, very strongly, that Bradley should make himself scarce. Take his winnings and go wherever he would go. Loathe as she was to admit, her youthful rebellion began and ended in that storage room. One last great insult to Robert and her father before she would need to submit for the sake of her family. And in so doing she had experienced a long, throbbing measuring stick to which Robert could never measure up. That was unfortunate.
And so the strange, giant man bid her a sombre farewell, knowing the next time he saw her, she would be unhappily married. But one could never predict these things. Maybe she would manage to find a little happiness.
-(-)-
Weeks later.
Lyanna was in a panic. One mistake! One little act of rebellion against everything she was supposed to honour and cherish and this was her punishment?! It was a bit much, surely?!
She had done as she knew she must after Bradley had left. Moon tea. She drank it. It was considered quite reliable and so she foresaw no issues. For days her only concerns were the political games being played in the tourney's audience. She was not prepared for those games to so suddenly involve her when Prince Rhaegar named her queen of love and beauty over his own wife. She honestly hoped said wife understood the look of unwilling horror on her face at the gesture, she had not wished for such a thing at all! Nothing came of it. Yet. But it was a fear in the back of her mind that one day the Martell queen-to-be would see an extra something added to her meal.
Bad enough a royal may or may not want her dead. But then her time of the month came. And yet her monthlies didn't. And then that morning... She had felt queasy before the carriages even started moving. She had played her sickness off as perhaps something she ate, all while she screamed hysterically inside her mind! What was she supposed to do?! Robert would be furious! He would break off the betrothal–... Actually that part sounded good, but Father would be furious! Would he disown her? He might...
Would that... Would that be so bad? She could find Bradley again? Take him up on his offer?
No, she scolded herself. It was foolish. Taking a woman on adventures was one thing, taking a pregnant woman was entirely another. Not to mention the mother of his child. Gods she was going to be a mother!
She... Could... Pretend he forced– No. She couldn't even finish the thought. He didn't deserve that in the slightest. He would be tortured and his head mounted on a pike if she claimed such!
She resigned herself. She knew what she had to do. When her father arrived for the weddings, she would tell him the truth. That she had lain with a man and was carrying his child. She would claim them a stranger, one for who she knew not the name. Father would think her a whore but it was better than the alternative. Every hoofbeat of the horses was a step closer to her doom.
And then, one night, a familiar face arrived. A royal blessing on his lips for the soon-to-be bride. And as their party bedded down for the night, that familiar face professed his love for her, made her an offer she could no longer afford to refuse.
View in Thread
Last edited: Oct 14, 2019
QQ Stories
My other stories
My Patreon
Flux Casey, Oct 14, 2019Report
#6Like+ QuoteReply
LordWonton, Lokhaxz, UnthinkingWisdom and 272 others like this.
Threadmarks: Part 5
View in Thread

Flux CaseyThe Colonel
Joined:Jan 22, 2016Messages:2,871Likes Received:71,241
Lora Rivers was over the moon!
After the night she and Bradley had spent together, after he had left the next day, she worried that she would never see him again. It wasn't exactly an uncommon story. Some lord or knight says all the nicest things, dips his wick, then fucks off never to be seen again. At the least she had a pleasant memory from it, and no issue came of it. Wrong time of the month. But she had hoped he would return. That he would take care of her like he promised.
And he had!
A little more than a week later he had reappeared and offered to take her home with him! She had giddily packed her things, shared a hug with a worried but supportive Annae, then skipped away with Bradley.
She had peppered him with questions as they walked. Did he live in a castle? A house? Was he married? It was okay if he was, but still. Did he have children? Any other family? And so on. Most of the questions he answered, no wife, no children, he had lost his parents quite recently. But to the question of where he lived he was strangely evasive, eventually saying he lived in a fortress. She didn't understand why he was so reticent about it. So her life might end up being a bit more regimented than at the village, that was fine.
However, a warning sign appeared when he led her off of the road. They had been heading in the direction of the Neck, she had assumed he lived in the North. But then he led them towards the Vale. Or more accurately, they had passed the Vale and were headed towards the Mountains of the Moon.
Then, as they neared the base of a mountain, he crouched low, kneeling in the snow. "Climb on."
Well, she had come this far, her list of options were pretty short. Her alternative was to brave the winter roads and pray to the Seven that she wouldn't get some combination of robbed, raped and killed. Piggyback from a giant up a mountain it was!
The climb wasn't gentle. The jostling of the rapid and terrifying climb would surely leave her with bruises. When the climb ended, he was apologetic, promising to get her medical treatment when they got inside. As sour as she might have been, it was a feeling overridden by confusion. Inside? Inside where? All she saw was a...
Cave.
"You said you live in a fortress," she accused.
"I do. It's inside."
Her alternative had gone from braving the roads in winter, to climbing down a mountain before braving the roads in winter. She resigned herself to her new life as the concubine of some strange mountain man, at least until winter passed.
And then she followed him inside the cave. She saw the wall of metal, the great circular door that heaved open. Inside, metal, metal, everything made of metal, far beyond the abilities of an army of smiths.
Whatever this was, she found herself woefully unprepared for it.
-(-)-
Weeks later
"Monsieur Brad!"
"Hey, Florence. You need something?" Brad asked, sat at a computer station and reading Director Rosen's notes on the weird device that had brought him to this world. It was all far above his head but it was just to entertain himself. The vault hadn't exactly been stocked with his usual hobbies. He could pay Lora a visit but... Well, she was having trouble adjusting to living in the vault. She latched onto him like a lifeline and seemed to have dedicated herself to serving him and his needs. That usually manifested in offering him her body. While that was fun, it seemed to be having a detrimental effect on her body. He was superhuman, she was not. There was no getting around that.
"It is about ze woman you brought 'ere."
"Is something wrong?"
"Non, nothing more zan ze usual fatigue and bruising," the robot said to allay his fears in a way that clearly implied such things were unimportant. "I just 'ad some zoughts on per'aps putting 'er zrough some enhancement procedures? She 'as proven insufficient for your needs and could be made better! Ze vault comes equipped with many options for such zings. Improving 'er durability for your rendezvous, per'haps even improving 'er potential for child rearing! We 'ave some fascinating bovine 'ormone treatments zat–"
"Master Brad!" Farnsworth's voice came over the PA, "The eyebots have found something peculiar."
"I'll be right there," Bradley responded, pulling himself out of his extra durable chair and headed for the door.
"Monsieur Brad! The modifications?"
"Eh, sure, do whatever you think is best." It only made sense. Whatever Florence did to him was a hundred percent positive, Lora deserved the same kind of treatment.
"I am 'appy to serve, Monsieur Brad!"
Bradley's feet quickly saw him to the director's office. Technically this was now his office but that implied the whole rest of the facility wasn't his also. It was strange to think sometimes that he basically had the lair of a supervillain under his control.
"Master Brad!"
"Hey Farnsworth. What's going on?"
"You recall the data relay system the eyebots are constructing?"
"Yes?" It was a project Fanrsworth had begun shortly after Bradley had left the vault for the first time. The eyebots were to carry and deliver relay transmitters so that they would no longer have to return to the vault to relay their findings. It had gone fairly well so far. The little spy robots had put down enough to keep an eye on the northern Riverlands and the region east of the vault, just beginning to make inroads into the south.
"Well... It seems one found something in the east that was interesting enough to notify us immediately. I suppose that's one way to show the reliability of the system, eh?" the service robot finished with a chuckle.
"What did they find?"
Without a word, Farnsworth put the pictures up one by one on-screen. The first was a river in a woodland, four men seeming to flee from what looked like twenty. The four were in what looked like lighter armour so could cross the river fine, the pursuers were not, some of them even in full plate. Another picture, deeper in the woods, one of the chased getting stabbed as he took out one of the pursuers in turn.
… Wait. "Stay on this one." He looked closer at the photo. "It can't be."
-(-)-
Even as he ran, Eddard Stark lamented the world he lived in. Three days he had been running, trying to escape the disloyal bannermen of Jon Arryn. He could understand the difficult position they had been placed in, choosing between their king or their lord. But when that king murders loyal lords the same as disloyal ones, when that king's son abducts the daughter of a noble house on the way to her wedding. What honour is there in staying loyal to such a man?
But stay loyal some of them did, despite Lord Arryn's demands and pleas otherwise. And so Eddard Stark found himself fleeing north, doing his best to avoid the lands of those lords who would see him dead. All he had to do was reach the Bite, cross it and raise his own banners.
His own banners. He was Lord Stark now. What a way for it to happen.
"Lord Stark!" Only one man remained of the retinue Jon had given him to protect them on their travels. "You and your brother keep going! I'll hold them off for as long as I can!"
"... Gods be with you," was all he could say. With only three of them left there was little other choice.
"And you, milord!"
A sound like thunder rolled over them, a great earthshaking crash and an echoing rumble.
Then screams.
"On second thought, milord, seems our pursuers have their own problems. Perhaps we just keep running."
"Aye, let's–"
Before he could even agree, one of their pursuers broke through the trees at a dead sprint, fear writ on his face like the Stranger himself was after him. But more important to the northmen, the man wasn't running towards them. He wasn't even paying them attention, just running, glancing back in fear of his pursuer.
A man in all-covering plate armour, a boar-like helm, carrying a giant warhammer and quickly gaining on the terrified man.
"No, please don't–!"
"RAAAAAAGH!"
Eddard had never seen a man get decapitated by a warhammer. Or at least not in that particular way, as the newly famed knight Ser Bradley swung his hammer into the top of the man's spine, crushing the neck to pulp and knocking the head away even as it was smashed to bits.
"Halt! Be you friend or foe?!" Jon's man demanded with sword drawn.
Benjen laughed weakly. "Ha, what a bloody question. If he's foe we're buggered!"
"That's a lot of people I killed for me to be your foe," the knight answered, his voice strangely distorted through his armour. "Hey, Eddard! What's going on?"
"Some of Lord Arryn's vassals decided to stay loyal to the king," Eddard answered.
"Uhh, why would they... Wait, are you rebelling?"
Benjen openly laughed at the knight having no idea about the events that had set fire to the seven kingdoms for the past two weeks. "Still as clueless as ever, Ser Bradley."
"Prince Rhaegar took Lyanna. When my father and Bran demanded her return, King Aerys had them killed."
It took a moment for Bradley to process what he had heard. Had so much changed in only a few weeks? He hadn't liked Brandon but Lyanna... Well, even if this wasn't everything he had dreamed of, a heroic rebellion against a vicious tyrant, he had a personal stake in seeing this through.
"Right then. Where are we going?"
-(-)-
Bradley found himself in an odd role in his time in the North. He had effectively become Eddard's, Lord Stark's, bodyguard. During the long process of raising his banners, getting his vassals to come to his aid and raise an army. Bradley had been present for all of it. It was clear it wasn't out of any familiarity, any particular respect. At least not at first. It was just useful to have an eight foot behemoth there as an intimidating presence.
Bradley found it terribly boring, at least at first. However, in moments of frustration, Eddard started asking for Bradley's opinions. Not necessarily because he expected the man to have some great insight, but mostly as a sounding board. It surprised him to find on occasion Bradley did in fact have some insight. He had learned about millennia of warfare in history class, after all. Not to mention the modern truisms that encapsulated complicated ideas in pithy sentences. Saying 'an army marches on its stomach' got him an impressed raising of Eddard's, Ned's, eyebrows. Food was after all a great concern this deep into winter.
Ned was less keen on 'all warfare is based on deception', however. Even if he had to admit the truth of it.
And so, the gathered Army of the North began its first march south, crossing the neck. Jon Arryn's forces met them in the Riverlands before the leaders of the united rebel forces rode for Riverrun to negotiate with Lord Hoster Tully. Another betrothal, Ned set to marry the woman formerly promised to his late older brother, and the Riverlands were added to the rebel forces.
Then finally, finally, the war seemed to begin in earnest for Bradley. They rode south to rescue Robert who had been wounded in a previous battle and was recovering in Stoney Sept. The majority of Royalist forces formed up outside the small town while the remainder continued to search for Robert Baratheon.
And with the clangour of bells, the two forces met. By nature of his position and his prowess, Bradley found himself placed on the front line. They were given the order to charge and so they did. With his size and enhanced strength and speed, he massively outpaced any others and slammed into the enemy lines like the hammer he carried. Every swing of his trusty sledge took a life or limb from an enemy. Ever moving forward, he carved his way in a straight line through the enemy army, devastating their formation. His mere presence scattered them, their morale breaking at the idea of facing him.
Bradley the Breaker. The man who with his charge smashed an army to bits.
That was hardly the end of the battle but it certainly set the tone as it went on. Rebel forces soon had a route into the town and battled Royalist forces in the streets. The commander Jon Connington, Hand of the King was captured as Robert came out of hiding. The battle ended in a complete victory for the rebel forces.
Naturally with the end of a major battle, that meant the interminable waiting began again. Bradley enjoyed the accolades of the rebels. Robert was glad to see him again (and not just because Bradley had helped save his arse, he had joked).
As the forces of what later became known as the Battle of the Bells returned to the main army north of the Trident, they once again began preparations for the next march. Lord Arryn went to Casterly Rock, hoping to secure the allegiance of the Lannisters and the Westerlands. Sadly the efforts were for naught.
In the end, the next battle came to the rebels. Rhaegar Targaryen himself rode north with an army of forty thousand. The rebels fought a defensive battle, allowing the Royalist forces to weaken themselves crossing the river before engaging. The battle being what it was, Bradley found himself playing a smaller role, taking on all comers but mostly just observing the sprays of blood and muck as men died in droves. He never saw Rhaegar, much as he would have wanted to break the man and find out what he had done with Lyanna. However...
"Guh!" he grunted as something hit him, pain blossoming in his midsection as... An arrow? No, it was huge, a ballista bolt?
"You're stung by the Scorpion and yet you remain standing!" a familiar voice called from across the river. "I find myself needing to know what you're made of, Ser Bradley!" Ser Lewyn Martell raised his arm and another volley of bolts cut through the air towards Bradley.
There was no reason to have siege weapons for this battle. They brought something like that, and seemingly just so they could take him down before he could wreak havoc on their forces. He charged forward, heedless of the dangers of the river in his power armour. With both hands, he grabbed hold of the bolt still stuck in his armour and snapped it off as he sank below the water. Step by heavy step, his feet slammed into the riverbed as he slowly made his way across, before coming up the bank on the other side like a machine of destruction. He could feel the water that had leaked into his armour sloshing around his legs. He was slower, heavier. Even so, he lifted his hammer, running at a full sprint at what seemed to be one of the enemy commanders.
There was a moment where he thought of saying something. Their mild acquaintance pushing him to try and convince the kingsguard not to pick this fight. But it was too late for that now.
The scorpions were useless this close and they wouldn't fire where they might hit their commander. In that moment, it was a fight between just the two of them. As such, there was only one way it could end.
Bradley looked upon the broken corpse of a man he once knew, a man who had been friendly and accepting in a strange new world.
And then a sword swung at him and he could dwell on his thoughts and feelings no longer.
-(-)-
The war was already over. Rhaegar was dead, and shortly after, Tywin Lannister declared his allegiance in spectacular fashion by sacking King's Landing, his men murdering anyone they found with Targaryen blood. Robert had reacted to the dead Targaryen children with a glee that unnerved those who witnessed it.
Bradley joined Eddard as the army once again marched south through the Kingswood to Storm's End, lifting the siege there just by their mere presence.
Finally, the reason Bradley had ridden south with Eddard had arrived. Mounting horses, Ned, Bradley and six others rode first west to Grandview. Then south along the river and west along the coast and up the Wyl river. As they stood under the ruined Vulture's Roost, the group of men spotted the structure they had been told about by the king's advisors.
The Tower of Joy.
"So it's over then," Gerold Hightower, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard said resignedly as the seven men approached. "You would not be here otherwise, Lord Stark."
"Lyanna is here isn't she, Ser Gerold." It might have been phrased as one, but Eddard's words were not a question.
"King Aerys may be dead, but Prince Rhaegar charged us with a duty. To protect his child to our dying breaths." The hissing of drawn steel is the only sound over the wind. "And so we shall."
"Child?" A shaken Howland Reed asked. "A child... Lady Lyanna... He...! And you would still obey such a wretch!"
Hightower's eyes closed for only a second. Hiding the regret behind them as he crushed it ruthlessly. "I am sworn to defend his grace, not judge him."
Of all the things he could have said, there were none that could enrage the smaller man more. With the frustration of knowing they were too late to prevent a tragedy, he charged arguably the finest knight in the seven kingdoms. His trident thrust forward in a fierce lunge, only to be near casually sidestepped and deflected, the heir to Greywater Watch crying out as a blade sliced across his back and he tumbled to the ground. Hightower's sword raised to finish the job but Eddard intercepted it. The other defenders tried to intervene, Eddard's companions intervened in their intervention...
The rash action of Reed kicked off a full melee. Six men against three. The advantage should have been the northmen's. Should have been.
The three knights quite literally had their backs against the wall, each fighting two against one. Bradley was in awe as he watched the display of sheer overwhelming skill they put on display. There was something in the way they moved, in their expressions, that even if they were surviving they didn't expect to win. That this was their last fulfillment of their duty. But even so, they fought with the ferocity only found in the most venerated order in the seven kingdoms.
The fight had started too suddenly, the other northmen were quicker to act than Bradley. By the time he reacted there was no space for him, his bulk was a weakness. If he tried to intercede he would end up knocking aside one or more of his allies.
However, whether by luck, experience or skill, the kingsguard's swords were finding flesh. First Willam Dustin's leg was too slow and received a deep gouge in his thigh. Then Ethan Glover was run through by Arthur Dayne. Theo Wull capitalised on Dawn being otherwise occupied but even in slaying the white-clad knight, Hightower took his arm at the elbow. Blood sprayed from the maimed arm as Wull's sword clattered to the ground.
No. This would end now. "Make way!" Bradley yelled as he took a sprinter's stance.
Ned didn't look, couldn't afford to take his eyes off Hightower, he just moved aside, Cassel and Ryswell doing the same.
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" Bradley bellowed and charged at his full speed into the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. He noticed, as he neared the man. His silvered hair from age. His well kept goatee.
That he closed his eyes right before impact.
BANG rang the impact as Bradley's over half a tonne of weight slammed into the kingsguard at a full sprint, ramming him into the door of the tower. As the door buckled and broke off a hinge, the back of Hightower's head left a red, smearing stain as he slid down it.
Bradley didn't know when Ser Oswell Whent fell. Only that he took Ryswell with him.
"Cassel, see to Reed," Ned ordered, "Brad, let's go see my sister."
Bradley unsealed and removed his helmet as he climbed the stairs of the tower behind Ned, letting his sweat-soaked head with his even longer hair into the open air with a gasp of relief. What the two men saw as they reached the tower room made their hearts skip a beat.
Lyanna, looking healthier than they had ever seen her, smiling lovingly down at a small bundle in her arms and gently rocking it back and forth.
"Hello Ned, Ser Bradley," she said as she glanced up at them, "Ned, would you like to meet your niece?"
With hesitant, uncertain steps, feeling as though he might be experiencing some sort of fever-dream, Ned walked forward. Lyanna handed over the bundle and with all the tenderness he could muster, he took hold of her. The baby stirred at the motion, crying out for only a moment before her big, brown eyes took in her uncle.
Ned smiled down at her, even if she was Rhaegar's, a product of the most foul of actions, she was beautiful–
… Brown eyes.
Rhaegar's eyes were indigo. And now that he noticed it, she had some other features that were familiar, the shape of the brow and the–
With movements so stiff one could imagine a creaking sound accompanying them, Ned looked at the knight that had been by his side ever since escaping the Vale. "Ser Bradley? Why does my niece have your eyes?"
View in Thread
QQ Stories
My other stories
My Patreon
Flux Casey, Oct 14, 2019Report
#7Like+ QuoteReply
LordWonton, FatBaldBastard, Lokhaxz and 300 others like this.
Threadmarks: Part 6
View in Thread

Flux CaseyThe Colonel
Joined:Jan 22, 2016Messages:2,871Likes Received:71,241
"I forbid it!"
"Oh, forbid it do you, 'Lord' Stark?"
"Don't test me, Lyanna!
"Oh, don't test you! Well, my apologies your lordship! Forgive me my transgression that after being locked in a tower by a prince mad as a box of frogs I might want a bit more control over my life!"
"Robert will be livid!"
"Oh, Robert wouldn't want used goods for his wife and you know it! Neither would the kingdoms want a sullied woman as their queen!"
"You're not a sullied woman!"
"Oh, I'm sullied. Aren't I Bradley? You sullied me long and hard, didn't you?"
"Please don't bring me into this."
"Much as I hate to say it, I agree. Don't give me more reason to kill him than I already have."
"Ned. You know it has to be this way. The Lannisters are trying to dig their hooks in, Tywin wants his daughter popping out the heir to the iron throne."
"Robert loves you!"
"... Ned. Robert doesn't love me. He loves the idea of me. He loves a woman of spirit but will feel like he has to break her to be a man. He loves the thought of marrying his best friend's sister so he can call you his brother. And Jocelyn... If I claim her as mine... I can't. Robert would kill her. Or he would kill Bradley. I won't have my daughter grow not knowing her real father. Bradley claims Jocelyn as his bastard, you arrange a marriage between us, we maintain the fiction in public and in private I get to keep my daughter!"
"I can't believe you're willing to be dishonoured like this."
"Ned, you and I learned very different lessons about honour. For you it's always been a road fit for you to walk with pride. For me it was always a yoke and iron chains, chains that father would use to drag me down that same road no matter how much I fought. It was fine for you, you never had to sacrifice anything for your honour. Me? Honour stripped me of my freedom before I even knew the word for it."
"Lyanna..."
"My life will be mine, Ned. Help me, try to stop me, either way I'll live as I choose."
-(-)-
More than half a decade passed.
"Good evening, darling," Lyanna sighed as she sat in her husband's lap as he relaxed in his enormous, cushioned, stone throne. It had to be built specially for him. Chairs still seemed to suddenly turn fragile when he approached them.
"Hello, love. How's Robert settling in?"
"Oh, you know he'd accept any accommodations if I'm the one providing them. Cersei was her usual waspish self. Really, it seems like she has a problem with me. I wonder why?" Lyanna pondered as she began wriggling in her seat, teasing the sleeping dragon to wakefulness beneath her.
"Maybe because you push her buttons every chance you get," Bradley suggested, his own hands finding their favourite places on her body, doing some button pushing of his own.
"Oh, you might be right about that..."
The end of the war gave Bradley a measure of everything he had wanted. Returning to Robert, the newly King Robert Baratheon First of His Name offered Bradley a boon, quickly suggesting inducting the knight who had slain two of the kingsguard into their order. Bradley had asked instead for lordship. Particularly, lordship over the mountain where the vault sat hidden. Jon Arryn, new Hand of the King, was present and agreed to it. The land wasn't considered useful or valued and it could prove useful to have trusted eyes on the Kingsroad. Until then, no one had ever wanted to do it. And so the noble house of Plaskett was born, with a bronze, nine-pronged wheel on a field of blue as its coat of arms.
Convincing Robert to choose another wife had been a challenge, even with all of his advisors telling him the same thing. Even Eddard when pressed had agreed with them. So with frustration and heartbreak, Robert had let her go. Only weeks later the betrothal was arranged. Bradley acknowledged his bastard-born daughter as his heir until he produced a son, and the two were married.
Then... Lyanna discovered more of the truth of who her husband really was.
The construction of a modest keep was commissioned, workers from the nearby Strongsong handling construction while the happy couple went on an extended honeymoon. Bradley gave his new wife and their baby daughter a year of travel and adventure, if perhaps with less daring and danger than Lyanna might have hoped. There was the baby to keep in mind after all, even if Lyanna's new physicality could probably handle it. It seemed the FEV was not only transmittable to children in a lesser form, it also passed along to the mother. Bradley's family would likely never be as powerful as he (unless they received the same direct treatment), but they would all be naturally strong and agile, and long lived.
The keep he named Strongjaw, so named for the nearby Bite and for his own jawline. For any appearance to the contrary, Lord Bradley was not a humble man.
The King and Queen were semi-regular visitors, much to Cersei's chagrin. Robert would come by every year or so to 'check in'. In other words, to spend time with the one that got away. Lyanna, no more happy about this turn of events than Cersei was, took what little joy she could from the situation, taunting the haughty cunt of a queen at every opportunity. It had only been for fun, but one night...
"Do you think she'll try again?" Bradley asked his wife as she ground her ass into his now painful erection.
"Absolutely! Why do you think I'm getting you all worked up?" she asked with a teasing smirk.
Bradley had politely declined when the queen had propositioned him even as his dick begged him not to. He had informed his wife but gotten an unexpected reaction. Certainly the two of them had played with Lora together but that was different. This was Robert's–
And with that he had his answer. Lyanna could certainly hold a grudge, misplaced or not. It helped that Cersei was a bitch so the thought of so thoroughly turning the tables on her probably set Lyanna to cackling like a mad woman.
Lyanna's eager grinding had long since had the desired result and she was in danger of just indulging herself. Leaning up and pressing a kiss to her husband's cheek, she whispered, "Make her gush, love," before getting to her feet and leaving for a side door. She considered listening in but getting caught would ruin things. Instead she wandered down to the basement. Talking to the 'robots' as Bradley called them was always fun.
"Milady?" a shaky voice asked as she descended into the basement.
"Lora?" Lyanna asked, peering into the dark and finding the 'servant' who was really Bradley's mistress.
Not that Lyanna would know what she looked like before, but Lora had gone through quite the transformation from the decently attractive smallfolk girl she once was. Bradley had given Florence carte blanche to do as she pleased to 'improve' the girl and the nanny robot took full advantage. First came the basic physical enhancements, the ones that hadn't taken for Bradley. Her muscles became toned, lean and womanly. A more powerful, durable physique that could perhaps handle Bradley's vigorous attentions.
But then things got a little more invasive. Bradley may not have been paying attention when they were mentioned but the bovine hormone treatments had been a rousing success. Lora's modest bust and hips had swelled into pleasing curves. On top of getting the new pair of fat, endlessly squeezable tits, they would also lactate constantly. She needed to be milked at least once a day before they would get uncomfortable.
And then came the simulations. The benefits of having a supercomputer on site, the simulations were quite detailed. So if the purpose was not to teach combat but sexual techniques, all it took was to change the parameters of the actors. For Brad, Florence set the training simulations to teach him to crush his foes with every weapon the armoury held. For Lora's training simulations they were to teach her to suck and fuck like a champion and enjoy every second of it.
When Bradley finally brought his new wife and daughter to the vault, he had a lot more than dimensional travel and advanced technology to explain. He also needed to explain the moaning, fat-titted bitch in heat, needily begging for his cock.
Not that he knew any better than Lyanna how that had happened at the time.
"Are you alright, sweetling?" Lyanna asked as she brought the girl into a loose embrace. The poor thing was shaking.
"It hurts, milady," she groaned, rubbing her chest, damp spots spreading over her protruding nipples.
"Did you not milk yourself this morning? You knew we would be busy with the King's party arriving."
Lora looked away, her thighs rubbing together. "I like it when milord does it."
Lyanna sighed. She hoped Lora's children wouldn't get their mother's traits like Jocelyn had gotten Bradley's. They'd have to open a brothel or something to keep them satisfied. "Very well, I'll help you this time," she soothed, putting an arm around her and guiding her down into the vault for her 'treatment'.
-(-)-
Cersei wore an ugly snarl as she fumed impotently in the 'royal' quarters of Strongjaw Keep. One would expect after five years of annual visits from the king they would bother furnishing a room fit for royalty. Instead the jumped up peasant and his northern sow left them to settle in a room fit for a poor sellsword at best. Disgraceful that Robert would allow her to be insulted so! But of course he would accept anything to spend time with his 'precious' Lyanna.
She just knew he was going to whimper her name in his sleep again. Marries the most beautiful woman in the seven kingdoms and still won't stop pining for some horse-faced northern tart.
Well. She knew how to make all of them suffer. And tonight would be the night that ruined them. Robert would beg on his knees for forgiveness. Plaskett, his lady whore and his bastard daughter would all be put to the sword. All she had to do was give the monstrous lord exactly what he wanted. None could resist her charms and when the fool took out his passions on her, ravaged her, she would accuse him of forcing himself on her. He was a mountain of muscles, there was no way if she offered herself he wouldn't leave her bruised all over by the time he was done.
Clad in her robe, Lannister red and gold of course, she made her way to his room, entering without knocking.
"Your grace, is there something I can do for you?" Lord Plaskett asked, rising from his chair. Cersei could see clearly the outline of his massive erection straining against his clothing. His wolf bitch wife must have left him unsatisfied. Unsurprising. As if that woman could satisfy any man.
"No, but there is something I'd like to do for you, Lord Plaskett." With a light shrug and her arms crossed at her hips, she let her robe slide down her frame, catching on her arms. As expected of a highborn woman of the Westerlands, her skin was beautiful and immaculate. Her breasts still perky and full. She had been sure to lose the paunch from her first pregnancy, once again leaving her belly smooth and slim. She kept her arms in place to hold her robe up. She wanted to tease him, not bare herself like a desperate ten groat whore.
He definitely appreciated the view, his eyes savouring the shown skin and clearly wanting to see more. "Your grace–"
"You don't like what you see?"
"I... Very much do." The bobbing of his adam's apple as he swallowed told her of his honesty.
"Would you like to touch?"
He didn't say anything, didn't move.
"No?" she asked, sounding disappointed. "Maybe if you saw a little more?" she asked. Turning around she slowly lowered her arms, letting her robe sink over the swell of her rear, revealing her uncovered pussy. Letting the garment pool around her feet she stepped out of it, standing at her full height, her back arched as she looked over her shoulder at him. "Are you sure you don't want to touch, Lord Plaskett? Don't want to experience such forbidden pleasures of your queen?"
Whatever force was holding him back, it broke at her display. In a single stride the lowborn lord was upon her, a meaty hand circling around her, the other hooking under her legs and carrying her over to the chair he had been sitting in, bending her over the arm. What was strange was that despite his desperation, his sheer want for her, he wasn't being as brutal as she expected. As she needed him to be. "You don't need to hold back," she goaded, "You can be rougher. Make me feel it."
"Oh, you'll feel it," he assured, hand tracing up her arm and down across her breasts, fingers flicking over her nipples making her breath hitch, "No doubt about that."
Well that was all well and good but not enough for her plan. "Oh, do you have to be this gentle with your wife?" she tried goading again, trying a different tack as she felt his shaft sliding along her moist lips. "You needn't worry. I can take anything you can give me."
He laughed, laughed, at her. "Oh I'm not gentle with Lyanna. She can take it. You, on the other hand, a bit more of a soft touch is in order."
The heat of indignation rose up in her breast. How dare he! "I can take anything that trollop can–"
And then she felt it press into her, carving its way into her depths. She was no virgin, she was a mother for the Seven's sake! So why did it feel like she was losing her maidenhead all over again?!
"Oooooooh..." she groaned out as his meat slid deeper inside her, his body bent over her. She hadn't noticed, in the moment he had entered her he had lifted her up to do it. The only things supporting her were his gargantuan shaft and the arm of the chair he perched her on. She felt her nipples slide against it as the force of his penetration pushed her over it.
"Bi... Bi..." she stammered, the word somehow being a little beyond her in the face of her cunt getting invaded by a monster cock.
"Big? Yeah, that's why I have to go slow. Gotta do my best to not leave any bruises or aches behind. Wouldn't want Robert getting suspicious, after all."
A thrill of alarm shot through her! Did he know what her plan was? How could he–!
And then he hilted in her and her strictly enforced dignity broke as she let out a pleased but shaky whimper, "Ha-ah-ah!"
"Thank you for this, your grace. I promise to show you a good time."
"Ha-ah?" she gurgled out, drool dribbling from the corner of her mouth.
He began to move for real, sawing in and out of her in a slow, practiced rhythm. Gentle as he was trying to be, she still, she couldn't even guess when her cunt started flooding, when pleasure started or stopped or if it never stopped and she just rode out a constant orgasm from start to finish. All she could remember was a constant ecstasy, the colours of her vision started to blur together... And with a blooming warmth and fullness in her womb came darkness.
Brad sighed to himself as he looked at the queen draped over his armchair, drooling on the seat. He had done it again, hadn't he? And with the queen this time? Well, whatever. He really should clean her up before–
"Milord?" came a hesitant voice from outside his door accompanied by a quiet knock.
"Ah, Lora! Come in, shut the door behind you!"
The most beloved servant of Strongjaw Keep quietly and discreetly entered her lord's chambers, shutting the door behind her. Whether one could say it was to her credit or not, she didn't startle at seeing the queen in a sex coma. "Is that Queen Cersei?" she simply asked.
"Yes it is! I need you to eat the cum out of her pussy for me, and then clean her up if you could please, Lora."
Once again, no hesitation. "Of course, milord!" Just eager acceptance as she came forward and sank to her knees under the queen's soaked quim, licking up any droplets of white before lapping at the source.
Bradley marvelled at what his life had become. Just... The best.
Days later when it was time for the royals to move on, even though Cersei didn't get what she wanted, she looked forward to next year's visit. She gave a nasty smirk to the wolf bitch as she got in her carriage. At least she got her revenge on that horse-faced tart for her disrespect!
View in Thread
QQ Stories
My other stories
My Patreon
Flux Casey, Oct 14, 2019Report
#8Like+ QuoteReply
LordWonton, Lokhaxz, UnthinkingWisdom and 304 others like this.
Threadmarks: Part 7
View in Thread

Flux CaseyThe Colonel
Joined:Jan 22, 2016Messages:2,871Likes Received:71,241
"Are you ready Lora?"
Her body was bent low, arms spread above her and locked into place. Her ass pointed upwards, her legs were equally bound, spread apart for easy access for what was to come. "Milord... Please!" the servant and mistress begged, her naked body quivering, pushing against her restraints. Not to get out, but to soothe the aching in her breasts, as well as her inflamed, lusty quim. Her drooling nether lips had already left a puddle beneath her she was so desperate for relief.
Lyanna, watching nearby, sighed to herself. "Bradley really, you need to stop leaving this until after breakfast! Look at the poor thing!" Feeling the need to step in, the lady of the house stepped forward knelt before the bound woman, cupping her cheek offering a little soothing comfort and reassurance. "Don't worry, sweetling, we're here for you." In doing so, Lyanna only revealed her own nakedness and with her legs spread as she knelt, the evidence of her own lusts.
Bradley, equally nude and showing none of the wear of a man approaching thirty, nodded his agreement as he made the final adjustments to the contraption his mistress was held in. He gently took hold of a firm, swollen breast and attached a suction pump to the nipple, repeating the process with the other. "When you're right, you're right, love. Just look, I haven't even turned it on and she's already leaking!"
"Of course I'm right. I'm your wife," Lyanna joked. "Do you think she's ready to take the next step?" Lyanna spoke as though the woman she was talking about wasn't even in the room, which for the poor servant's current state of mind, she might as well not have been.
"Hmmmm," Bradly hummed, pausing to think. Well, there wasn't much thinking to do. He and Lyanna had already discussed the matter at length. This was just for Lora's benefit to draw things out, to push her that little bit further. If the pitiful whine she was letting out was any indication, it was working marvellously. "We might end up having to do this more often. Mornings and evenings."
"What a tragedy," Lyanna said with a roll of her eyes. "I think that's enough teasing, don't you?"
"I guess so. Are you ready Lora?"
"Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!" the poor girl whispered over and over, begging for relief.
Giving no warning, Bradley flipped a switch. All at once, several sounds began. The low hum of a machine in operation. The soft suctioning sounds of the pumps at work. The quiet dripping sound of a tank being filled.
And a long, low, guttural moan of a sex pet servant getting the milking she so desperately needed. On reflex, her cunt squeezed shut, expecting to grip onto a cock and finding nothing. A new round of soft whimpering erupted at only one of her needs being met.
"Don't worry! Don't worry! I'm here for you!" Bradley assured, driving himself inside her in one forceful thrust. She was well used to it at this point and with how desperate she had become, would have asked for nothing less. Her cunt eagerly sucked him in, coiling and grasping at his meat as it slid in and out of her.
Lyanna kissed the servant on the forehead, "Isn't that better?"
The answer was a series of pleased yelps as Lora came for the first time that session.
"Lora, Bradley and I have been talking," the lady of the house confided, paying no mind to her husband slamming the girl's soaked cunt. "We think it's time we gave you a gift."
"A g-g-huhhhhh!" Another climax rocked Lora's body even as she tried to speak.
"That's right. Lora, would you like Bradley to breed you today?"
The servant's eyes widened, even as her eyelids continued to flutter from the constant stimulation. "B-Breed? I can... I can have milord's hn!"
"If you like. Would you like that, Lora? Would you like my husband to put his child in your belly?"
"YES! Please, milady! I want it! I want to bear milord's children! I want to raise them to be as dedicated to milord as I am! They will serve him loyally just like I do! I promise! Please please please– Ahhhhhhh!" Her feverish pleas once again cut short as an orgasm rocked her body.
"Well not exactly like you do–" Lyanna tried to correct...
… Only for Lora to clarify she meant exactly what she said. "Yes milady! Any girls I have he can use just like he uses me! Fuck them! Breed them! They're his! I want to give them to him!"
A confused and concerned look passed between husband and wife at that statement. Those simulations really did more of a number on poor Lora than they thought. Probably not helped by their reinforcing them. Well... No use crying over spilled breast milk now. They could figure out the whole 'mother wants to train daughters to be incestuous sex toys' thing another day. That, err, that would bear discussion.
Hell, good chance all it would take would be Bradley saying he doesn't want that and the obsessed servant would cave instantly.
"Well Lora," Lyanna began, standing up and tilting the servant's head back to look up at her, "We just need you to prove you remember who you serve." The she-wolf edges forward, bringing her own wet slit within reach of Lora's mouth. That's all it took for Lora to stretch out and eagerly begin feasting on her lady's cunt. "That's it," Lyanna sighed, thrusting her hips onto Lora's questing tongue, hands gripping her head to pull it deeper. "You're ours, Lora. Forever and ever."
Lora tried to speak, the vibrations sending a pleasant thrill through Lyanna and sounding vaguely like "Yes, milady."
"Are you ready Lora?" Bradley asked, his thrusts picking up speed and ferocity. "I'm going to pump you full of my seed! You're going to be a mother! I'm going to put a child in you!"
Lora shrieked and yelped as his hips slapped into her ass, rocking her whole body forwards, her fat tits swinging below her even as the pumps continued to drain them.
"Here it comes!" Bradley yelled, ramming into her one final time, emptying himself into her womb. It wasn't wishful thinking, them saying he would breed her today. Bradley, it turned out after some more testing, was extremely virile. If it was the right time in a woman's cycle, pregnancy would be near guaranteed. For Lora, this day is that right time. Even as her cunt spasms and squeezes down one last time, his seed is already seeking its target. Bradley can almost see it now, Lora's belly swollen with his child, her tits even larger than they already are, practically a human cow. He had missed the process for Lyanna. He wanted to be there for this one.
"Sir, apologies for the interruption," Farnsworth's voice blared over the intercom, "It seems Mister Bertrum is looking for you upstairs."
"Gah, that pompous sack of crap," Bradley grumbled as he slipped his cock free from Lora followed by a slap to her jiggly ass, the woman still eagerly eating his wife's pussy.
"Be nice," Lyanna chided, head tilted back as she enjoyed her servant's affections, "He works for you. We, mmm, we need someone to look after the place when you and I are gallivanting off who knows where."
"But he's so full of himself! 'Oh, I served under Lord Egen, I'm sure I can assist you in ruling like a proper lord.' Thinks he can look down on me, the prick."
"Deeper, sweetling, there's a good girl," Lyanna cooed. "Well he thinks you're just a smallfolk brute who has friends in high places and that I'm 'just a woman'. Says some quite poor things about Lady Egen now that I think about it. Just keep on as we have been! We're doing wonderfully!"
That was certainly true. Over the years the region had flourished. At first it was only a keep on a mountainside, attracting some comfort-seeking hedge knights looking to join on with a new house, a few smallfolk looking for work. Naturally the next step was to build a little bit of comfort on their lands outside the remote Strongjaw Keep. And so on the shore of the Bite, a small fishing village was founded.
Then Farnsworth had an idea. Scans were taken of the dense shell surrounding the vault where the rock had been displaced. That packed and compressed matter would show them exactly what useful materials might be under the mountain. That was how they discovered the mountain was rife with silver. On spreading word of the discovery, the small trickle of smallfolk became a tide of soon-to-be miners. The small village on the shore grew, another settlement much closer to the keep was founded and work was well underway to make a convenient path between them. With some unspoken help from a little advanced technology of course.
Suddenly, Bradley had found all he needed to make his new lands prosperous. But at the same time, they had become significant enough that he and Lyanna couldn't go travelling anymore. They couldn't leave such operations unsupervised. So they brought on... Help.
"Yeah, we're doing great. I'm sure the prick loves taking credit for it," Bradley muttered bitterly.
"Oh, please. Anyone with sense will– MMMM!" Lyanna suddenly cried, biting her lip as she rode Lora's face to climax. "Oh, that one snuck up on me!" she laughed. Lora relaxed into her restraints only for Lyanna to pull her head back between her legs. "I didn't say stop, dear. Where was I? Oh, right. Anyone will see he's full of it. The next person that hires him will see right through him. And if they don't they would look down on you too. Wouldn't it be nice revenge on such people? That they think they're stealing your miracle worker and instead they get an ordinary, pompous prig?"
"I guess..."
"Oh, don't be insecure, love!" his wife tried to soothe him once more. "Here, do you want to fuck Lora again before you go see him? Make yourself feel better?"
"Mmm!" Lora squealed happily, very much liking the idea.
"Yeah, that does sound nice," Bradley agreed, his dick hard as a rock again after watching his wife shudder in pleasure like that. He slapped it down into his mistress' crack and slid back to press the head against her asshole. "I'm taking her ass this time though."
"MMM!" An even more excited squeal. He didn't use her ass much, it always had a little extra thrill for Lora. Getting bred and getting buggered in one day?! Her name day wasn't for another month!
-(-)-
In another section of the vault, Florence watched her master and his wife. She watched as he drove himself into the curvaceous woman again and again. She couldn't hide the pride she felt in the incredible results of her research. Bradley had become a peerless specimen of humanity. No, not that. He had been pushed beyond mere humanity. Even now, in the back half of his twenties, he hadn't aged a day from eighteen. The mind of a decently intelligent young man now inhabited the body of a demigod. He was a marvel of modern science, or old world science as she supposed she should call it. She was in charge of catering to his biological needs. That meant ensuring he had the greatest capability to survive, to live healthily, to live happily. She felt that she had helped him achieve these things.
And yet...
As she watched the monitor, as she watched the musclebound man pound the servant girl's ass, she felt pride once again. She had seen the results of her work even before they presented themselves. His new body chemistry told her everything she needed to know. He might be able to control himself to an extent, but his body would constantly be pressuring him to indulge his sexual urges and furthermore, he would have a difficult time reaching a state of being truly sated.
Twenty seconds. That was all it took for him to get hard again. Not only hard, he could have chosen to impregnate his wife again alongside the girl and he would have been able to release a standard human amount of sperm for the task. Not his regular prodigious deluge but even so. With his stamina, he had become quite literally insatiable.
When Bradley had brought Lora back to the vault, she had been overjoyed! Truly her master was even more shrewd than she had realised, bringing a willing girl back to keep his desires in check! Naturally, she had done the only proper thing. Turned the girl into Bradley's perfect fuck doll, a receptacle for his never-ending urges. She was confused by his confusion when he returned to the vault with his new wife and found Lora willing and eager to satisfy him. Perhaps she had misread the situation and jumped the gun, but it had all worked out in the end!
Or... At least she thought it had.
Not long ago, she had been watching the monitors, keeping an eye on him as she was programmed to. But what she had seen... Even with his mistress ready to satisfy him, his needs had grown even further! She did not pretend to know the ins and outs of this world's political system (that kind of insight wasn't what she was designed for), but she knew as well as anyone, fucking the King's wife is probably a very bad idea! Clearly, Bradley's sexual needs had started to override his better judgement!
Maybe it was being left to more or less languish as a victim of her own success. Bradley didn't spend much time with her anymore... But clearly, this was a sign that things had changed! Bradley needed her again! And this time she would not let him down! This time she would settle things properly! This time, she would do whatever it took!
"Soon..." she vocalised quietly, sliding her metal tendril arm over the face of a metal skeleton, "Zere will be no more substitutes! I will 'elp 'im myself! I will be zere for 'im! 'E will need me! Like 'e used to!"
Interfacing with the room's node to the vault supercomputer, she got back to work.
She would provide for his needs. It was her duty.
View in Thread
QQ Stories
My other stories
My Patreon
Flux Casey, Oct 14, 2019Report
#15Like+ QuoteReply
LordWonton, Lokhaxz, UnthinkingWisdom and 318 others like this.
Threadmarks: Part 8
View in Thread

Flux CaseyThe Colonel
Joined:Jan 22, 2016Messages:2,871Likes Received:71,241
"Lord Plaskett, you need an advisor!"
"Doesn't matter how many times you say it, Bertrum, doesn't make it true."
The portly bald man with a salt and pepper beard let out a loud harrumph as his sage advice was once again ignored. "My Lord, I must beg that you cease this stubborn foolishness! I admit my shame that I cannot advise you properly in these endeavours but to bull ahead without proper knowledge of these matters would be the height of stupidity!"
"... Do you want the opportunity to rephrase that, Bertrum?" Bradley asked lowly, dangerously.
The keep seneschal took a half step backward. Few are the men who would stand strong when eight feet of pure muscle takes a threatening tone. But to his credit, Bertrum did not falter any further than that. "The sea trade is a difficult, complicated and dangerous avenue to take for those experienced in it, my lord! No place for a novice! I will beg if I must, but you need an advisor who can speak with authority on such matters! A Maester from the Citadel–"
"Ugh, enough about these damned Maesters!" Bradley growled, throwing his hands up in the air.
It was an old argument at this point. One first brought up by Lyanna, not Bertrum. She had laid out her reasons, good ones, for why one would be beneficial. Not least was the assumed prestige of a Lord who commands the loyalty of a Maester. A Lord without one is often considered an unimportant Lord by Westeros at large. Most of her other reasons centred around their sage council in all matters. The first point had weight. Prestige is useful, Bradley knew that. But... The thought of keeping one around just for that felt like a hell of an insult for one of this land's most learned men. And to Bradley's mind, that was what the case would be if they were to take one on. How could a dark ages scholar compare to the vault's databanks?
Well... They might know a thing or two about dark ages maritime shipping. A subject with which the digital library of the vault was unsurprisingly unhelpful.
"Perhaps a compromise is in order?" a new voice joined the conversation, Lyanna sashaying into the room in just a robe looking very satisfied and relaxed. "Getting a Maester just for an expert in seafaring trade might be a bit much." She internalised rolling her eyes for Bradley's sake. Her husband held so much pride in his 'superior modern knowledge' he would never seek counsel from someone who believed themselves smarter. It was why he and Bertrum clashed so often. "So perhaps instead we strengthen connections with another seafaring lord? Seagard is just on the other side of the Neck and Lord Mallister was friendly enough at my brother's wedding, wasn't he?"
Bradley rolled the idea around his head. He hadn't interacted with Jason Mallister much at the wedding. Trying to place a face to the name, the skinny brown-haired guy? Yeah, he seemed nice enough, especially considering Bradley wasn't a Lord at the time. "That could work."
Lyanna, not tall enough to kiss her husband on the cheek, pulled up his hand and kissed him on the knuckles. "Here to help, love," she winked saucily before sauntering away towards their bedchambers.
"Right... Okay. Bertrum, if you could send a raven to Lord Mallister, tell him I'll be making my way out in... A couple weeks?" Bradley requested. "Hmmm, I'll need a gift..." he murmured only to notice Bertrum seemed to be studying the walls quite intently. "Bertrum?"
"Not proper... The lady of the house dressing so..." the man muttered awkwardly, adjusting himself quite conspicuously.
Bradley's eyes narrowed. "Bertrum."
"Ah... Yes, my Lord. I'll send a raven," he said hurriedly, heading for anywhere that wasn't in the same room as the husband of the woman he had been mentally undressing.
Yet another reason to hate Bertrum, as if Bradley needed more. Thankfully, Lyanna could snap his neck if he tried anything. Still, best tell the bots to keep an eye out just in case.
-(-)-
One more place to go before he left for his trip. Down into the vault into what had been adapted as a classroom. Farnsworth hovered at the front of the room giving lessons on simple math.
The little girl with dark braided hair and brown eyes squealed in excitement when she saw him. "Daddy!"
"Good morning, sir!" Farnsworth greeted.
But Bradley paid him no mind, eyes only for his adorable baby girl who had leapt out of her chair and sprinted over to him on her tiny legs. "Up!" Jocelyn cried with arms raised, demanding a piggyback ride.
He took a knee to get a little closer to her level. "Jocelyn, what does Mummy say about manners–?"
"UP!" she demanded again, louder, her cheeks puffing out in warning of what could easily turn into a tantrum.
Well, considering what he came here to do, he decided to indulge her just this once. She giggled in glee as he picked her up, dancing with her in the air before putting her on his shoulders. "Yay! Onwards!" she called with a determined point of her chubby arm towards the door.
Bradley had a sneaking suspicion this might have all been a ploy to get herself out of lessons. "Don't go anywhere, Farnsworth, she'll be back in a bit."
"Certainly, sir!"
"Watch your head, sweetie!" he warns his daughter as he dips extra low to get through the door, then another, to get into a bigger room where they can play for just a little bit. His daughter's squeals of delight bring him a joy he hadn't known existed before having her. He let her direct him like a rider would a mighty steed, playing the simple game for a while. Learning to ride. She'll love that. He'll need to get her a pony for her to learn with in a few years.
Before long, Jocelyn's excess of energy seemed to run low. He brought her down from on his shoulders and sat with her in his lap, holding her securely as she seemed to slump in his arms. "Jocelyn, Daddy has to tell you something important, okay?" Her eyelids were drooping but he had her attention. "Daddy has to go away for a little while. I'll come back as soon as I can, but I need you to be a good girl and listen to Mummy and the bots while I'm gone, okay?"
"Kay..." She murmured, her head drooping as she snuggled into him.
… She just fell asleep, didn't she. Seems she got out of lessons after all. Carefully picking her up to not wake her, he carried her back to the classroom, letting Farnsworth know she'd be taking a nap.
Setting his daughter down in her own bed, he pulled up the covers and planted a kiss on her forehead. "I love you, Jocelyn."
She let out a cute little mumble as her lips curled up into a smile,
Quiet as he could, he left her to her dreams.
-(-)-
Just as Lyanna said, it was only a short journey across the neck to Seagard. Granted he had to cross the Green Fork but for him that was hardly an issue. Didn't even have to deal with the rotten bridge troll Walder Frey. Bradley simply walked into the river and kept walking until he was on the other side. Power armour. The solution to all of life's problems! Well, that and a super sledge. And a body to wield them. And a repair facility for when they break.
Okay, there were admittedly a lot of moving parts but when they were all put together they were the solution to life's problems!
Anyway. Fuck Walder Frey. Zombie-looking asshole.
When Bradley finally reached Seagard he was met by... No one. Not particularly a surprise. Bradley had grown used to how his habits didn't meet the expectations of Lords. He didn't arrive with a large retinue, his banner flying high over a carriage where he would sit bored for hours on end. No, he preferred to travel light. In this case as it was just a social call he arrived alone. Just him, his armour and his hammer. Seagard offered him a familiar and welcome experience. He had never been to see the ocean in his own world. What with living right near the coast himself and some adventures with Lyanna, he found he had developed a taste for it. Taking off his helmet to get an unfiltered lungful of the salty sea air, he decided to play tourist a little bit before going to see Lord Mallister.
The first port of call (heh) had to be the docks. Looking into the distance he could see some of the ships of the Seagard fleet. He couldn't name the type to save his life but they were very... wooden. Yes. Very wooden ships indeed.
… Yeah, maybe bending the ear of an expert wasn't a bad idea after all Bradley admitted to himself. Even still, he could make some observations that would benefit him. Seagard was the closest trade port to the Iron Islands. They doubtless did considerable business with the viking-like people nowadays but even so they didn't allow themselves to grow complacent.
Hm. It was about time for him to go see the castle, Bradley decided. Before the sun would begin to set.
A brief discussion with the guard at the castle gate had someone sent to inform Lord Mallister that Lord Plaskett had arrived. Even inconveniences like that were still far preferred to the major inconvenience of dealing with an army of hangers on as far as Bradley was concerned.
In the time he had before someone came to fetch him he took the chance to look over the castle. It was an old structure. That isn't to say it looked decrepit. Far from it. No, the reason it was clearly old was from how much it had been expanded over the many years of its existence. Even for the money Bradley had to spend on it from his tournament winnings and his payment in service of Ned, Strongjaw Keep was a ramshackle thing compared to Castle Seagard. The building seemed to be made up of three main structures, the castle he stood in front of with its high tower, another a little further out sitting on a plateau, and a final tall tower on a rock spire connected to the others via a bridge. The logistics of building such with at best middle ages understanding of architecture impressed him.
And once again showed the vigilance of House Mallister. Tens of thousands of gold dragons, maybe even hundreds of thousands, invested into building something specifically to watch the coast.
The guard returned with a servant of some high rank based on his clothing and cleanliness. "Lord Plaskett, his Lordship Jason Mallister has bid me welcome you to Castle Seagard. If you would follow me, Lord Mallister shall attend you in the great hall."
"That'd be great, thank you," Bradley agreed cheerfully, letting the reedy man lead him into the castle. Great hall. According to Lyanna's etiquette lessons that meant he was being greeted politely but distantly. That was fair enough, half the reason Bradley was there was to establish better relations with the house.
The first thing that struck him as he was led through the halls was the décor. The Mallister family seemed to have something of a collection of shields. Round shields, they lined the walls, floor to ceiling. No specific pattern or theme. Many were plain leather or wood, often with iron struts or studs, some painted, most not.
The castellan seemed to have noticed where Bradley's eyes were drawn. "Souvenirs of the long history between Seagard and the Iron Islands. I'm sure you know of the blood-soaked past of the Ironborn, how they would rape and slaughter their way up and down the coastline. As the nearest settlement, Seagard suffered them more than most and therefore learned to make them suffer in turn. Each shield was taken from the corpse of an Ironborn reaver. Each a reminder to never trust an Ironborn."
"But isn't a lot of your sea trade with the Iron Islands?" Bradley wondered aloud.
The castellan scoffed. "And so the ones we see at Seagard are both cutthroats and merchants. That would make them doubly untrustworthy, I'd say." The duo reached the great hall, the castellan entering first to announce to Lord Mallister that his guest had arrived, prompting Bradley to follow and greet the man himself.
"Lord Plaskett!" Jason Mallister greeted pleasantly enough. He was tall, slim. With brown hair just starting to be streaked with grey. In the face he actually looked rather like Bradley had pre-transformation. Though Jason wore the look better. "It's been... Five years?"
"Six," Bradley corrected. "At the Tully weddings."
"Ah, yes, those were dangerous times," the elder lord reminisced, "Say what you will about King Robert, at least he isn't setting people on fire. That's certainly an improvement." Shaking his head to clear it of high level politics that honestly didn't really matter for men of their station beyond seeing which way the wind blows, he beckoned his guest in to greet him properly. "But enough about that, it's good to see you again. What business brings you to the opposite side of Westeros, hm?"
Opposite...? Oh, Bradley hummed an almost-laugh. Lord Mallister apparently had a very dry sense of humour. Bradley had come all the way from the east coast to the west coast, even if that was only about fifty miles and a river crossing. "Well, part of it is to perhaps bring our houses closer together. We do watch over opposite sides of the Neck after all. It would be advantageous to both our houses if we can work to