Clash!
"Argh… These nasty little weak arms!" Joffrey groaned and roared as he swung at Sandor Clegane, a man much bigger than him.
Ting!
The swords struck, and the Hound easily parried it, pushing Joffrey back with ease. "You have improved, but much is still left to learn."
Joffrey gasped for breath on the sandy floor, a private training ground of his own in the Red Keep. It had been a month since he had returned to this old body, and the nightmares of what was to come from the North haunted him more than anything. The debt, the war, the mad woman who was his mother, and all the other bloodsucking leeches who wanted to use him—nothing scared him anymore but the dead who walked.
"That should be enough for today, Your Grace," the Hound said and left without receiving Joffrey's command. He was a wild man, but at least he began to openly call him 'Your Grace' instead of avoiding it.
His loyalty will come in handy as things become more troublesome. Joffrey thought and pulled himself back to his feet. Being alone, he walked to the prepared jar with water and a basin. He quickly cleaned his face and removed his armor before heading out.
The evening had dawned, and the sun was slowly setting. Joffrey looked forward to the evening as he had prepared something for himself. But before any of that, he had a meeting with a certain cockless man with dangling loyalties.
As long as my knowledge of the future doesn't end up being wrong, this shouldn't be too hard.
He walked up the stairs and eventually reached the terrace, one of the high towers of the Red Keep, overlooking the sea and the beautiful sunset.
There stood Lord Varys alone, staring at a far distance.
"Don't tell me you feel homesick, Lord Varys," Joffrey ignored all the pleasantries and stood beside him, enjoying the breeze. It was just the two of them, and the height ensured that none could listen.
Varys smiled diplomatically and bowed his head, "I'm afraid there is nothing awaiting me in that part of the world but horrors of my past—not everyone is able to so easily change themselves, after all."
Hinting at my changed attitude? Joffrey saw through the doubled-meaning words that the man was famous for. Let's not overshare with this one.
"Do you fear me, Lord Varys?"
"A King must be feared in reasonable conditions."
"Terror?"
Varys nodded, "Hard to differentiate between the two for the one inflicting, but not for the one who suffers."
"Even now?"
"It's ambiguous. Evil tends to hide when the sun shines—how long that shine lasts, we never know," Varys kept himself cryptic, not wanting to offend Joffrey in any way, shape, or form. "An appreciable change, however. We all love a bit of sunshine, don't we? The realm needs some of it now more than ever."
Joffrey agreed as he leaned forward on the edge, "Lord Varys, I know you have lost faith in the crown. I know you desire to put that Targaryen Princess on this throne."
Varys fell silent and looked at Joffrey's confident face, one that was beginning to look far more dignified and mature than a month ago. "Mere whispers of unknown origin. My loyalty is to the realm, Your Grace."
"I know, the realm—not the crown," Joffrey rebuked, slowly getting down to business. "Perhaps she can be a better Queen with her dragons one day. I know you have many questions, just like my uncle did. Go ahead, I will try to be truthful."
"Who are you?"
"A man who chose to wake up from a long dream of vice, foolery, naivety, and incompetence," Joffrey tried to seem as poetic and as wise as possible, not wanting to look the man in the eye. "With a new dream, perhaps."
"And what brings about this abrupt concern for the realm?"
"I saw how fragile we are in that battle… mindlessly fighting for nothing. The visions of that night will forever be etched in my memories," Joffrey rubbed his face to show his mounting frustration and seriousness.
Varys, being the one to overanalyze everything, tried to believe him somewhere in his mind. As he himself had seen all sorts of horrors out there, he knew what war does to a man, and this was Joffrey's first war. Some turn more sadistic and thirsty for blood, while others turn wiser and learn to cherish the living.
He hoped that the signs Joffrey showed were the latter. He hoped that Joffrey learned to cherish the living. However, there was a bigger problem now, and he feared living in the Red Keep wasn't safe anymore.
The seeds of doubt that he serves the Targaryen Princess had taken root. Now, nothing could ever uproot them.
"Do not fear me," Joffrey, as if he read through Varys' thoughts, addressed his growing concern. "I'll abdicate the throne to Daenerys Targaryen when she arrives with her matured dragons and her army. I'm not suicidal, nor do I wish to be dragon's bait. Until then, this realm needs some cleaning. Wars must end, and winter is coming. We must prepare."
Varys never thought he'd find himself in such a strange position against Joffrey, of all people. The boy had never been the one to think with his head, so this change was far too drastic.
"You must have a reason for reaching me then?"
Joffrey nodded, "I know you're a man who schemes within schemes, who plans ten steps ahead. I don't care about it, to be honest. As long as you favor this realm's goodwill, I care not what you think of me. I'm surrounded by enemies, Lord Varys—blood or not, all wish to rule through me. I can't fight them. But unless I can do that, I can't change anything.
"To end wars, make truces, clean this city, and bring order to the realm, I hope you can introduce me to a person. Magister Illyrio Mopatis, call him here for a very secret meeting that none but you and I should be aware of. As quickly as possible, by the end of this week if you can—I'll grant him favorable positions in trade and lordship If he can help me deal with a grave issue—a cancer that has devoured the realm from within."
Varys' brow rose, feeling interested in knowing what this reformed King Joffrey hoped to achieve. "What might be the name of this cancer?"
Joffrey smiled, since he knew this was going to make Varys more than excited. "A certain man who hopes for chaos to climb the ladder of power."
Varys smiled and moved to the edge of the exit. "Indeed, there are many within these walls and outside who desire your neck, Your Grace. But it is up to you to show if your words hold honor to them. I will inform you once I receive a reply."
This cockless bastard. He won't trust me until that Targaryen sits on the throne—in your dreams. Joffrey cursed under his breath while maintaining a smile. Sadly, I don't have the luxury of powerful allies as of now.
Only time would tell if this little discussion was going to come to fruition in something good. But for now, Joffrey knew he needed some entertainment, and it was waiting for him in his bedchamber.
Time to study how to conquer Westeros.
####
Joffrey walked through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep and soon arrived at his bedchambers. His two Kingsguards stood at the sides of the gate, one hand on their sword's hilt.
"Unless the realm is burning or the Gods have descended, do not let anyone disturb me," he sternly ordered them and walked in.
At first sight, he noticed the candles in the room that were usually not there. The light was dim, but not so much that it hindered his view. There was a flowery scent in the air as the smooth, gentle breeze came from the open windows.
"Y-Your Grace!"
Joffrey shut the door and looked towards his bed. There stood the red-headed woman with her graceful allure of prime womanhood. Her full, curvy body was draped in expensive but common clothes.
"Ros is your name?" Joffrey asked as he began to disrobe the larger clothes, mainly his suffocating doublet over the tunic.
"A-Aye, Your Grace," she responded, trying to catch her breath as a sense of fear took over. She had heard the rumors. Everyone had. "M-May I h-help, Your Grace?"
As much as I dislike my old self, I can't help but love this sound of fear. It's… arousing.
"You may."
The red-head meekly walked over. Standing in front of Joffrey, she dared not look into his eyes and moved her dainty fingers to unbutton for him. Her breath was gentle but fast, eyes big and brown, lips plump and succulent. Locks of her hair beautifully fell on her pale face, increasing her charm.
Must say, Uncle has some taste in women—except for that whore he currently keeps.
Gently, he raised his hand and caressed the soft skin on her neck, sending shivers of fright down her body. There was no running if she wanted to work in King's Landing. She had to endure whatever sick game the King wanted to play. She knew that.
"I must say, you are beautiful," he complimented her to calm her down a bit.
She finally looked up, smiling widely, showcasing her perfect teeth. "Thank you, Your Grace."
"Do you know why I invited you into my bedchamber tonight?"
She kept that smile and helped remove his doublet, walking around to his back to pull it down his arms. "To do what men do with whores?"
Is that a question or a fact?
"You are correct but mistaken in my motives. I have invited you, for there is a lesson to be taught."
He purposefully played with his words just to see her jolt in fear.
"I'm going to be married soon. I do have plenty of experience with women, but I hope you can give me a few hints tonight on how to please women to the fullest until they fall deeply for me," he revealed his wishes, some true and some a mere ruse to play with her. "Don't be afraid of me. I was once a monster, and now I'm not."
Finally, Ros found some confidence in her breath and voice. Her drying lips found the wet relief of her tongue. "In that case… I will do my very best to assist you in all ways you desire, Your Grace."
Her last words came as an arousing breath close to his ear when she leaned her face beside his from behind. Her full breasts were pressed against his back, waking up his sleeping member.
She walked around Joffrey and stopped a few feet away. Then, facing him, she began to disrobe. She unbuttoned the front of her dress and pulled it open, letting her full breasts adorned with tight pink nipples come out.
She smiled as Joffrey's gaze remained centered on her flesh, noticing the rapidly increasing bulge in his breeches. However, she didn't stop there and pulled her arms free of the sleeves of her dress, allowing the cloth to fall and bunch around her waist, leaving her completely bare-breasted.
"Appetizing," Joffrey muttered and walked over to her and, without warning, cupped one of her breasts. He merely caressed the flesh, feeling its warmth and silky softness against his palm. "I'll make sure to savor you well tonight."
She chuckled, appreciating his veiled compliments. It was nice to hear those from a man who had no reason or incentives for being kind to her, as it meant they were genuine.
Quickly, she reached down and opened the rest of the buttons that hid what was important. Proudly, she let the dress fall around her feet and bunch up as her shaved pussy came into view. Not knowing what the King liked, she chose to go clean as a safe bet.
His hand went slightly rough on her jutting mounds while his eyes hungrily looked down at the core between her fleshy thighs. His cock twitched, asking to be released from his trousers, and she seemed to get the message.
"Your Grace, would you like to sit?" She asked while rubbing one hand carefully over his erection and opening his breeches.
He helped her and took them off on his own, including any smallcloth on him, and revealed his royal body nude. He felt somewhat tired after the training, so he chose to sit down on the edge of the bed and spread his legs wide.
"Umm…" She made some noise and moved forward smoothly, lowering her knees down on the carpeted marble floor between his legs. She reached for him right away and wrapped her hand around his girthy cock, giving him the gentle pleasure of her soft palm. "Let me please you a little before we start with the rest, Your Grace."
She knew her worth and the need to leave a good impression on the young King. So she began to stroke him slowly, so masterfully, unlike any experience he had before.
"May I feast upon your cock, Your Grace?"
Joffrey felt a strange pulse in his cock as it stiffened further. He liked her dirty talk, her submissive words, and the way she looked at him with those big eyes as if knowing she was at his complete mercy—one wrong move and she'd be dead.
At his nod, Ros first pushed her hair behind her shoulder and then pouted her lips close to his knob, gathering her spit and letting it drip onto his length, coating it all as her hand rubbed around with the gentle strokes. Her hand pulled his skin all the way down and then pulled it up. Her nose sent whiffs of breath on his bulging tip, making his arousal even more strong.
Her other hand caressed his balls as she lowered her mouth and took him in, sucking him hard from the get-go. He already felt a release tipping inside him, shocking him on how her experienced moves squeezed the pleasure out of him.
He tried to stay focused.
"Ummmh…" Ros kept eating him with a vulgar touch of her tongue, teasing his tip inside her mouth. Her lips were powerful, locking around his girth with such force that he couldn't help but feel his cock swell in her mouth.
Seeing his pleased face, she felt more confident and went further, taking him deeper all the way and keeping his length locked, soaking it with her warmth. Then, as she pulled out, she made it a long and nasty slurping lick from the top to the base of his shaft. However, her hand never stopped stroking, and soon, she noticed the hints of his arrival.
Once again, she gave him that submissive look while sitting on her knees, "Your Grace, would you like to soak me in your warmth or make me swallow?"
Oh, Sansa must learn to be like this.
However, Joffrey wanted to keep going. "Swallow it all."
Like a good little whore, she took him in her mouth again and locked his knob between her lips. Her tongue kept probing the head, and her hands kept stroking or playing with his balls. Unsurprisingly, it didn't take long for him to shatter through a release, a feeling indescribable as he reached his glorious moment.
He came a lot, forcing Ros to gulp some of his cum down while keeping his length in her mouth. He felt his length drowning in the warm seeds that flooded her throat. The sensation was exciting him.
Finally, she moved her mouth around his shaft and slowly pulled back while squeezing out every single drop of his load so it didn't drip on the floor.
"Oh…" Joffrey liked it and fell back on his elbow on the bed, resting a bit.
"So much," Ros commented, cleaning her mouth with her clothes on the side. "I think you need a few playthings in the Red Keep, Your Grace."
He chuckled, "I have playthings… just not this experienced."
"I'm flattered," she giggled and climbed atop the bed as well. "Would you like to take the lead, or should I?"
Joffrey licked his lips while glancing at her delightful peaks. "I'll take the lead for now—you may give suggestions while we're at it."
"As you wish, Your Grace." She slid all the way to the headboard of the bed and rested her back, but not too upright.
Joffrey didn't wait and followed her, reaching the side of her shoulder, half his body pressing on her. His hands cupped her swollen flesh and clenched them tight, the size enough to mould between his fingers and fight against his tightening grip. He pinched her budding nipples between his fingers as well, soon earning little sounds of pleasure from Ros.
She pressed her legs together while squirming, giving out moans.
So Joffrey went harder and lowered his mouth to take her pink bud in his mouth. He soaked it in his warm saliva and ate it with fervor. Her heated skin against his lips felt silky, waking up a beast inside.
"Oh, oh… Your Grace… Gentle, please," she moaned along with pained cries. "Some women like rough, some gentle. But no woman likes it rough on the first night."
"Why should I care?" Joffrey scoffed offhandedly, returning his mouth to her peaks.
She giggled with aroused breaths. "Heh… Of course, Your Grace. You are the King. You can take any woman to your bed in any way you desire—it is your right. But to conquer a maiden's heart, the fall to corruption must be slow, luring her to the rough plays every night… slowly… umph!"
Joffrey released one of her breasts and slid his hand down her toned, soft belly, caressing through her shaved pelvis, reaching her thirsty entrance. Two of his fingers raided her petals, spreading them apart, and entered.
"Yes! Oh… Grace… Your Grace!" She moaned at his sudden steps. "Yes… That's right… Always make sure your woman is ready, her cunt drooling with thirst. That way, she feels the pleasure as muc-ah… as you-uh… warm my pussy… yes!"
Her submissive cries of need brought his cock back to erection.
Wanting to feel her around his girth, he left her mounds and beckoned between her knees. He roughly pulled her down so her head rested on the pillow, then he caught her ankles and straightened her legs, making them rest against his chest and shoulders.
He looked down at the redhead's flushed face, her alluring, sexy giggles and needy gaze. Her belly undulating for breaths. He looked further down at her entrance, soaking wet with her juices, bright pink, as if it was inviting him.
He didn't delay. Keeping her legs straight against his chest, on the sides of his head, and on his shoulders, he eased forward and rubbed the tip of his cock on her wet lips, making her shiver with his invading pleasure.
"Be gentle, Your Grace—let me feel you first," her soft, seductive voice made Joffrey even more greedy in tasting this woman. But he played the game for now and slowly pushed deeper, pausing a few times to let her stretch around him and clench him tight. Eventually, her warmth engulfed him entirely. Being an experienced one, she tightened around him incredibly.
"Yes! Good Mother… you are so… perfect…" She moaned as he began moving back before shoving deeper. The slow thrusts slowly started to get intense. His cock speared her pussy apart with each move, his pelvis striking against her raised under thighs, her legs stretched to straighten as he pressed on her.
Her body moved against his violent pumps, and her succulent flesh juggled with it. Her moans were louder with each passing moment, shattering once he leaned forward, almost achingly, while keeping her legs still on his shoulder. One hand gripped her breast, and the other taunted her clitoris.
"Oh… oh my… the Seven…! You're doing great… fucking my pussy!" It being her habit, she never stopped moaning and talked dirtily. "You're spreading me too much… You're ruining me, Your Grace… ah, ah… aaaah!"
Splaying her, his cock squeezed the juices out of her core. With his needy release building again, he tried to make her feel the same. Getting rougher and heavy on her, he aggressively jerked.
"There… right there, Your Grace!" Her climax mounted on the edge, and with a loud cry, her slit squelched with her intense orgasm. She arched herself up and squirmed, twisting her waist left and right while devouring that pleasure.
Joffrey, too, hastened his greedy drives with grunts before slamming fully in and exploding inside her grasping pussy that clenched him in pulses, experiencing its own heaven. Tired, he fell forward on her as his cock softened in her warm depth, his face resting on her tits, which he didn't fail to eat once again.
Ros giggled and moaned while caressing Joffrey's back, but not the hair out of fear. "You lied, Your Grace."
He looked up at her face, blushing red in the aftermath of their training.
Before he could say anything, she clarified. "You're already a master of your sword… There's nothing for me to suggest. I'm afraid… you've even conquered this dirty wench."
This one sure has a decent tongue. She knows what to say and when to say it.
"Are you certain it's not the sack of gold that conquered you?"
"Hehe…" She giggled, her breast throbbing before his lips. "That's why I came prepared to give you everything you may need, Your Grace. Have you ever experienced the other entrance of a woman?"
"I haven't. Most are too afraid of taking it there—more so after seeing the size," Joffrey replied, finding his money's worth at last.
She quickly slid away from underneath him and got off the bed. She picked up a small bag she had brought and took out a tiny glass bottle containing oil. "Not all women can accommodate a man from behind, Your Grace. It requires patience, tolerance, and desire to feel it. But I assure you, it feels amazing to both, and even if it does not, you can always do it to break her—you are the King; you can do anything."
Ros knew what kind of man Joffrey was, even though he had changed. An ambitious man who likes to be in control, who has wilderness within, but acts or tries to act gracefully.
Trying to curry favors with me now? He saw through.
Returning to the bed, she placed a pillow under her pelvis and laid down on her belly. With her ass protruding up, she reached behind with her hands and stretched her cheeks to open up, giving a direct view to Joffrey of her puckered back hole.
At least it wasn't repulsive to look at, having the same color as her skin, the entrance appearing tight and clean. Just imagining it, he felt his cock rise again, and without waiting, he moved forward and straddled her back, just below her hips, with his cock resting between the cheeks.
"Please prepare me for your cock, Your Grace," she requested, sounding so dreamy and desperate, almost begging.
He took the oil bottle from her and drizzled some in the middle of her ass. The aromatic scent immediately made him harder, and in a needy demand, he began preparing her with his finger.
With the oil coating his fingers, he pressed against her tight ass. She bucked, awaiting his invasion. But instead, he spread her cheeks wider and slid his rock-hard cock in her pussy again, sinking it halfway and feeling the warm tightness.
All the while, he kept pushing forward until his finger entered her ass, stretching her for the coming pounding. He used plenty of oil but didn't waste it for too long.
"Keep them spread with your hands," he ordered her.
Joffrey took his cock out of her pussy and guided the knob to her star-shaped hole. He poured plenty of oil on his length first and then began pushing, leaning forward on her back to use his weight.
"Ah!" She felt it stretching her rim. "S-Slow, please… at least at the start."
He grunted hoarsely as the head finally popped inside and kept going deeper. He had never felt anything this tight around his cock, so he gave her some time to adjust to his size before skinning deeper.
Once he saw her breath going softer again, he went harder and further, grunting against the warmth and pressure. It was something he had never felt before, something new and something he found quite exciting.
"Argh… tight!" He groaned and gave her all of his length, seeing it lost in her ass. Taking the cue, he pulled back and slammed in again.
"Aaah! Oh, oh!" She began moaning wildly as Joffrey started pounding her ass to soreness. "Yes, yes… Your Grave, I'm yours… Hurt me! Fuck me! Ruin me!"
Pa!
Joffrey slapped her ass cheek hard, not once or twice, but continuously until she screamed in pleasure and pain, her makeup ruined with tears of bliss and sweat. Undoubtedly, the guards outside were most likely hearing it and feeling hard.
Just the thought of it made both of them excited.
Joffrey leaned forward on her, driving deeper until his face reached the back of her neck. Just when she slid one of her hands under her belly to tease her pussy, he caught a bunch of her red hair and roughly pulled her head back up so his lips could whisper into her ears.
"I will."
In that position, she felt utterly helpless and excited. His weight pinning her down, the cock painfully impaling her ass, and her own hand rubbing her clitoris. This was a pleasure on a scale rare to her.
"What are you, Ros?" He asked her, groaning into her ear with loud breaths. He made sure to pound harder into her tight backdoor every few instances, jolting the entire bed until it squeaked.
"Argh… oh, Your Grace…" She tried to rest her face down, but his hand firmly gripped her hair. It was painful and arousing. "Your whore… I'm your whore!"
"Whose?"
"K-King… Joffrey B-ah-ratheon…" She groaned, face turning extremely red, eyes rolling up while her spit drooled down. He went too hard, and she loved it. "King of the A… an-ah-dals…"
He grinned and fucked harder, nearing his climax, which was definitely going to leave him sore and crushing tired. His body had grown stronger, but it was still not enough.
"Then… who owns you?"
"Y-ough…"
That was it.
Ros moaned, crying and shaking under him as her muscles gripped him like nothing else, seemingly locking him in her ass. Her climaxes came one after another, her body resting in ruins of his plunder, pinned under him.
"Then… from today!" He tried to move, which only made him grunt with his balls twitching. "You shall be-eh… my… personal whore… only ugh! Mine!"
His hands dug harder into her until she cried, the other violently squeezed under her body until her breast was clenched in his palm. His cock resting deep in her ass, he came with burst after burst of his creamy load, filling her until she released him.
He beckoned his hips quickly, sliding his cock out and spilling his seeds on her back, making a mess out of her flushed alabaster skin.
Gasping for a deep breath, he immediately shifted to the side and fell on his back, panting. His cock calmed down quickly, his body left with no strength. Beside him, Ros didn't move for a good while, as if she had fallen unconscious. Her ass was swollen with the marks of his palm, her pussy and the back hole filled with his nectar—all her orifices used and abused. It was finally time to rest.
He closed his eyes quickly but soon felt Ros slide over to him and rest her head on his arm before hugging his body tightly, squeezing her warm mounds onto him.
"Really, Your Grace?" She asked in a loving voice, on the verge of collapsing. "Will you keep me?"
"You are mine to keep, my to savor." Joffrey didn't open his eyes and instead pulled the quilt over them. "Betray me, and you will lose my favor."
"Hehe…" She giggled and fell asleep.
Joffrey merely smirked since he finally found a decent toy to play to his heart's content.
Something to satisfy myself until Sansa and that Tyrell bitch learn to please me.
___________________
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