(Y/n) moaned breathlessly. Every nerve ending was crying out for the punishment to stop. Parts of her mind even trying to come up with ways to escape her restraints, even though she wanted to stay. Her skin was wet. The once dry, pristine sheets beneath her, were now soaked with her sweat. But despite all this, she wanted more. She wanted the great old lion to never stop.
She and Tywin had been in the room for what seemed like hours. He had used her, dominated her. Punished her. And made her beg for more. The skin around her wrists was raw from pulling on the cord that bound her. The flesh of her backside throbbed mercilessly from the number of times Tywin had brought his hand sharply down on her body. She could feel his sweat mingle with hers as it dripped down between her breasts, and she could feel the sting of where the strands of the many whips that Tywin had wielded, had marked her soft skin. Yet still she wanted more.
She had never felt like this before. Never experienced anything like this before. Part of her felt guilty, felt ashamed that she was so easy to control. That she had changed her mind so quickly, and given in so completely. Hated that she so enjoyed being dominated like this. But Tywin Lannister had proved, that despite his age, he had not lost his roar. His voice, his hands exploring her body, his rough lips against her skin, had all proved like magic to the younger woman. The lion casting a spell over (Y/n) as he demanded of her, menacingly.
(Y/n) couldn't remember how many times she had screamed out Tywin's name in ecstasy. How many times her every emotion, her every thought, had been fogged by euphoria. She couldn't remember how many times she had felt his seed spill inside her, or had it pool on her skin. But each time she had, (Y/n) strangely felt more and more like this was not the only time that this was going to happen. More and more hoping that it wasn't going to be the only time this happened.
Suddenly, the silken blindfold was carefully removed from her eyes. (Y/n) squinting painfully, as even the faint flicker of the many candles dotted around the room stung her orbs that had been blind for hours. (Y/n) knew that Tywin was still above her, still inside her. His arms had her caged like a wild animal, his body had her pinned to the bed as she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist.
"Look at me." Tywin growled softly, as (Y/n) did her best to focus on the man that had reached up to remove the bindings from her wrists. The feel of his now gentle kisses against her red, inflamed skin, shocking her slightly.
"You've been such a good girl for me (Y/n). Such a very good girl." Tywin continued, as he slowly removed his form from between (Y/n)'s legs and pulled her aching body into his arms. His fingers brushing through her wet hair.
For all his life, this was the only thing that Tywin had denied himself. Refusing to accept that he needed this. But now, now with (Y/n), the monster had been released. And Tywin had absolutely no intention of ever letting it be denied again.
The old lion was used to being feared, respected. Used to having other do what he told them to do, without question. He was used to power. But nothing he had experienced, not commanding armies, destroying his enemies, or controlling the seven kingdoms from behind the Iron Throne had given him the sense of complete and utter control that (Y/n) had given him over the last few hours. It was like a drug, an intoxicating mixture of shade of the evening, sourleaf, and weirwood paste, and Tywin wanted more. He was addicted, and (Y/n) was the only one that could keep giving him the high that he craved.
>>--------------------------------<<
Tyrion walked into the brothel. He had heard a tall tale that was circulating the Red Keep, that his father had made his way out of the safely of the great castle and ventured into one of Baelish's brothels. For Tyrion, a visit too such an establishment was a common occurrence, but the little lion could not believe that his father would "lower" himself to be just like him. To admit that he had needs, wants, and desires.
Tyrion took a seat at his usual table, looking around for any sign of his father. Normally he would expect an entourage of Lannister bannermen, but they, as well as his father, were conspicuous in their absence.
"My establishment seems to be very popular with Lannister men this evening." Petyr chuckled knowingly as he walked up to Tyrion.
"So, does that mean the rumours are true? Has my father actually admitted that he is as weak as the rest of us when it comes to the fairer sex? Where is he anyway?" Tyrion enquired, as he took a sip of the wine that had just been placed before him. The little man wondering which of Baelish's many whores, Tywin had taken a fancy to.
"Your father is indeed here. And he has been special room for hours with our beautiful little dancer, (Y/n)." Petyr told the little lion, who just stared up at him in disbelief.
"But (Y/n) isn't one of your girls. I thought that she was just a dancer?" Tyrion replied, not liking the smug thin smile that had creeped onto whoremongers' lips.
Tyrion couldn't help but be annoyed. He as well as many others had enquired on more than one occasion if they could enjoy the company of the breathtaking female dancer. Yet every time, Petyr had informed them that (Y/n) was not for sale. Yet now, with just one word, his father had got the prize. And even more, he had her in the special room. A room keep only for the highest paying, and most important customers that required just that little more.
"That is exactly why your father wanted (Y/n). She is chaste. Something very special. She is like a wild horse. With unbridled passion beating under that untamed bosom. The wrong man would be bucked and hurt. Yet in the right hands, even the wildest creatures can be broken and moulded into any man's greatest desire. And I believe that given the noises that have come from the room, your father has done just that." Petyr chuckled, as he seemed to glide away from the table. Leaving Tyrion to wait and see what would happen when his father and (Y/n) reappeared.
>>---------------------------------<<
"(Y/n)." Tywin continued softly. As he cradled her trembling body in his arms. His now calm demeanour in complete contrast to wild, passionate, lust filled man that had previously demanded anything, and everything for (Y/n)'s body.
"I am taking you from here. No other man is allowed to have you. I want you as close as possible. You will come to stay in the tower of the Hand with me.........." Tywin began, as (Y/n) stared up at him in disbelief.
"But.......I......I.......what would I do?" (Y/n) asked, her now shaky voice, hoarse from screaming out the Lannister patriarch's name.
"You, my precious child, will do everything I desire. Just as you did today. You will dance for only me, sing for only me. Love only me. For I desire you more than I thought I could desire anything. And I am a selfish man, that does not like to share anything. Especially something as perfect as you. And I can assure you, that I have so much more planned for us. This evening is nothing compared to what I want to show you. What I want you to enjoy." Tywin hummed, as gently caressed the soft, supple, rounded flesh of (Y/n)'s breast. The old man smiling as he felt her nipple harden under his touch. A wanton moan leaving her mouth as he leant down to kiss her already kiss bruised lips.
Carefully he lay (Y/n) back on the bed. His eyes never leaving her naked form as he dressed himself.
"You will learn to punish me too (Y/n). You will learn to satisfy my every need, as I will yours." Tywin told (Y/n) as he wrapped her in one of the sheets from the bed. Her quivering form gripping tightly to him, as he picked her up and carried her from the room. All eyes turning to see the head of House Lannister make his way through the brothel with (Y/n) in his arms. Tywin not even acknowledging Tyrion who had stood to his feet as his father passed.
"(Y/n) no longer works for you, Baelish. Do you understand?" Tywin asked, as he paused momentarily before the Master of Coin, not allowing Petyr time to reply before he exited the brothel.
"Now my dear. Let me show you your new home. And our very own little playroom." Tywin told (Y/n) as he placed her up on his horse. The old lion smiling as he imagined all that was to come.
YOU ARE READING
Game of Thrones: Short stories.
FanficThis is my first book where I will be bringing together all the short stories I have written for Game of Thrones. If you are already a reader of my work, I hope that you will like the fact that I have brought all my work together so that they are a...