Chapter 1: Chapter 1 - Cersei Lannister (Incest, Breeding, Domination)
Lyonel Baratheon had been "lucky" when his crown-prince brother Joffrey had been assassinated and Lyonel was left king after his father died in a hunting "accident" (he knew for a fact his mother Cersei had a hand in it, but didn't mind one bit). Of course, the quotation marks around lucky should raise eyebrows.
After Joffrey had taken his fist to Tommen one too many times in his flights of rage, Lyonel had enough, and resolved to never let his cunt of an elder brother hurt his beautiful and kind younger siblings ever again. So when Joffrey opened the door to the privy, Lyonel waited there and shoved a knife into his neck before leaving as quickly as he got there.
No one, not even the Spider or Littlefinger, had a clue as to who did it. The cause for it was the secret tunnels beneath the Red Keep he explored as a child, and while he had no doubt they knew of its existence, they didn't have any spies fucking about in there.
But he was a child no more. No, Lyonel had the strength unrivaled by even his own father, Robert Baratheon during his prime, and he was but the age of nine-and-ten. His body was sculpted well, as many maids whispered when they thought themselves to be out of earshot, and his skill with blade could only be bested by his uncle Jaime and Ser Barristan.
No, Lyonel was already the visage of a king in both face, body, and bearing.
Like his father had been in his youth, Lyonel was clean-shaven to reveal his young and handsome face with strength in his eyes. Lyonel Baratheon was a kingly man even before he first entered a woman at the age of six-and-ten; a mature maid he bred with a bastard, though he made sure the woman knew not to tell anyone it was his, but rather King Robert's should anyone ask. Despite inheriting his Baratheon father's sexual drive, he was more lion that stag. He was the apex predator, not the running prey.
For someone who was so kingly, it had taken time before the title and position was given to him. But he was a true beast, a savage and brutal and ruthless fighter, and dominating of any who dared partake in his bed. Any woman who entered with delusions of control were left fucked-unconscious on his bed as a sweaty mess with their wombs filled to the brim with steaming cum.
His muscular stature and animalistic behaviour intimidated them enough, but mentality could be overcome. They needed but find courage and sense to move past the instincts that screamed at them to submit to the apex lion, the head of the pride, that loomed over their bodies, and realize they could take control back. But what they couldn't do was fight the force of nature, the storm, that was the physical obstacle.
Their hands would run over his godly-muscled body and realize to push against it would be pushing against the waves of the sea. And his cock would drive them silly with pleasure and pain before long, its size and his technique working in union to drive their brains into the state of a submissive bitch in heat being bred by a more-than-worthy mate.
However, the challenges were but maids and whores and lowly knight's wives, and their resistance were as impressive and resilient as a mice's roar. All were given a black-haired and blue-eyed child and nursed them on their big teats.
There's something to seeing your child tugging and chewing and drinking from the full breasts of women you've dominated. It often led to him pulling them into his room and taking them from behind standing as the child was still suckling on their tits, too mad with arousal to care.
Despite all of it, he'd never taken a high born before. And the thought was never really considered seriously before Jon Arryn died and his father ordered a royal party to the North to make Eddard Stark Hand of the King.
It was the best choice Robert Baratheon had done in his entire reign of shite. At least for Lyonel.
Particularly, they had taken him in and treated him like one of their own years ago, when he was taken as a ward of the Starks. Eddard tried to teach him honor, but it was not in his nature. Lyonel feigned any mercy and honor he had to gain favour, and it worked. But he still appreciated that they'd given him shelter and food and protection, as well as influence by default of his association, considering they were one of the greatest houses in Westeros, being the Wardens of the North and all that.
But still, they were good people, and their influence was not all. Eddard was probably one of the best men Lyonel's ever met with a strong moral compass and sense of honor. Robb was as honorable and kindhearted as his father and one of his best friends, and Jon Snow was alike despite his bastardy.
Fuck Theon Greyjoy, though.
Thing about being so honorable and kind and trustworthy is you're most likely going to be gullible too. And gods, were they.
Sansa was naive to the point idiocy almost, but she was timid and shy, and cute too.
By the time he returned North years after his time in Winterfell, she was twenty years of age and took after her mother in terms of body; although her breasts hadn't fully filled out as fully, they were still big and impressive, and her mother's hips began to show. She'd taken a crush to Lyonel, and he knew he was going to fuck her some day.
Arya had smaller breast, though firm, but she too took after her mother. Her hips grew out nicely, and her ass grew fat enough to more than fill his hands. Her training she'd started since she was 14 alongside him when he was a ward left her at the age of 18 with nice full legs, muscular and filled out just right.
She'd fallen for him too, and she was too kind and badass not to love. She had a temper, but wouldn't lose it over stupid shit, and she was loving. Unlike her older sister, she wouldn't look away whenever they met eyes and he smiled. She'd be just as shy, make no mistake, but she wouldn't look away.
Instead Arya would glance at him timidly with a shy smile tugging at her lips. If he ever sat close to her, she'd fidget and steal glances so indiscreet, and yet she was unaware of it. If she ever accomplished something of note or beat a guard down in the yard during sword practice, she'd turn to him first beaming with pride.
She loved him, and he knew it.
She'd be a joy to cuckquean. He'd dominate her until she'd love him and his cock too much to ever consider leaving him, first. But he would, and Lyonel could already imagine her sitting on his bed as he took Sansa before her, bouncing her sister on his bucking hips, too shocked and mortified to do a thing but obey. He'd suddenly pull her by the arm and throw her on her back on his sheets, throw Sansa over her and fuck her sister right above her. He would do this whilst proclaiming his love for Sansa above Arya Horseface.
It wouldn't be true; truth is, Arya grew sharper features as her aunt Lyanna. She was beautiful, more beautiful than Sansa without doubt. And she had better hips and legs and ass, and whilst her breasts weren't as big as the other females in her family they were still firm and beautiful. Oddly enough, he took to her hair very much, as well. It was cut short yet framed her beautiful face perfectly.
But anything to humiliate the undeserving girl, and let her know no matter how much wolf's blood she had in her, she was a bitch to bend over regardless.
'Yes,' Lyonel thought to himself when he was astride in the courtyard during their arrival in Winterfell, and saw her smiling at him, 'I'll marry her and love her, only to humiliate her.' The love wouldn't be false, and he would make sure she knew that, but he would also assure her he was her master, and could do anything he wished, and she would obey always.
All things in good time, however. He only just arrived today.
The best of the Stark women's trinity had to be Lady Catelyn. Eddard's wife was a beautiful and mature beauty, and not to mention red-headed! There was no hair he favoured better. And although her beauty, namely her face, hips, and ass, were outdone by Arya, there was a mature allure that beckoned the apex beast within.
Her firm-but-huge tits were full and milky, and her hips and ass was the progenitor of her daughters', so hers was nothing to scoff at. Curvaceous mounds of assflesh bulging out and ending at her just-as-voluptuous hips, and she had full legs perfect for warming you during a cold and harsh winter.
That is what Lyonel was hoping to see soon, as he opened the door to his temporary bed-chambers in the North.
Too bad he wasn't greeted by Lady Catelyn, but his own queen mother. But Catelyn's time would come.
"Mother," he greeted, and stepped aside to let her in. He closed the door behind her and sat on his bed, taking the cup of Arbor Gold in his hand and drinking from it.
It was late at night, and the dark sky would have been seen from outside had he not closed the shutters. "Lyonel."
"A cold greeting? Truly, mother?" He sighed at her cold-but-feigned glare, "You're not as good an actor as you seem to think. Besides, no one's watching, least of all Joffrey. No need to coddle the little shit when he's not here."
She would always take the blond cunt's side in arguments, but Lyonel knew better, deep down. And she knew that he knew.
"He's your brother." she said quietly as her angry facade slipped away and his mother came forth. "You shouldn't talk of him that way."
"Why not? He is a little shit, you know."
"That's enough, Lyonel! He is your brother!"
He shrugged his muscled shoulders carelessly, "Didn't seem to deter him when I was a helpless little boy for him to bully."
She looked down in shame, and knew she was partly to blame. It was perhaps one of the reasons she allowed him to do this, but it wasn't why she continued. "He's still your brother. And you're both my sons - AH!"
The yelp came suddenly as Lyonel's hand flew to strike across her asscheeks, her head snapping up to look at him with wide eyes in open-mouthed shock. His hand gripped her left cheek and mauled it as Cersei began to moan erratically and pushing herself against him, muffling her noises into his chest.
He smiled down at her, "But I am the son. I'm all you ever need. I'm the cock that fucks you, the lion that breeds you, the cum that fills your womb, the husband to love you and nurture you on my cock. I'm more to you than uncle Jaime, father, or Joffrey, ever was or will be. Aren't I."
Both of his hands gripped her big arse and mauled the assflesh like dough, bulging out between his fingers, and he took care not to bruise it but rather come close to. He drew numerous and erratic moans and whimpers from her as her legs buckled beneath her. She grinded her hips against the cock that wasn't inside her, and her wetness poured from her cunt and glistened her warm thighs.
"Aren't I?" he growled, grinning animalistically as he roughened his treatment of her butt and forced her to look up at him. Lyonel saw the lust and love and worship in her eyes, coupled with fear and awe, and a look all broodmares he took had in their eyes that betokened their subservience to him.
His trousers felt snug as he hardened.
"Yes!" Cersei exclaimed desperately.
"Yes, what?"
"You're my everything, Lyonel!"
"Do you love me better than Joffrey?"
She shook her head, "Please, don't make me say it. It's cruel."
His grip tightened and the molestation of her ass grew almost violent as he ruthlessly dominated her, "Do you love me better than Joffrey?"
She bit her lips and tried to resist, but the inevitable and instinctual love and subservience for him won over all else, and she nodded meekly past the pain and pleasure. "Yes… Yes, I love you more than Joffrey, the blond cunt."
He grinned and threw her on his bed.
Cersei bounced with a gasp of surprise when she fell face-down on the feather bed, and ground her thighs together to stifle the wetness from between her legs from pooling too much on the bed and at her feet, but she felt the strong hands of her second-born son pry them apart with ease before settling behind her.
"How goes Joffrey's rise to the throne, mother? Has he trained in warfare? Sword-fighting? Strategising?"
Her breaths were loud and gasping with anticipation," H-he's not very enthused… about being forced to attend war lessons with your father - Ah!"
She yelped again when he tore her dress off at the back with a shred, exposing her back and arse fully. Lyonel tested her drenched cunt with one finger and clamped his other hand down on her asscheek to jiggle it. "You didn't wear undergarments. Unusual."
"I… I knew you needed relief, lest you decide to take one of Lord Stark's d-daughters." 'Or wife,' he thought, but stayed quiet. "It would complicate things too much."
"You sure it's not because of the dry streak I forced on you?"
She stayed quiet for a while. "I said I was sorry. I meant it."
"I know. I just haven't forgiven you." She took Joffrey's side as she always did, and this time was nothing special, he just wanted to make her suffer for his own amusement. He relieved himself with a maid he impregnate twice before, both daughters, and brought her along for this whole journey north.
He put a baby in her again last week.
"And you tried to fuck my father and uncle to relieve yourself, didn't you?"
Smack! his hand came down.
"I-I did."
"But it wasn't enough, was it?"
Smack!
"Ah! N-no, no it wasn't." She shook her ass at him, "Please, Lyonel. Your mother needs this."
Smack!
"Ah!"
"My mother? I don't fuck my mother, I fuck my broodmare. Are you my mother, Cersei Baratheon?"
She was silent, and he slapped her ass again, Smack! and a red handmark showed on the flesh of her jiggling derriere. "Ah! No! No! I'm your broodmare, Lyonel!"
"I wonder, whose cock do you love most?"
Smack!
"Y-yours, Lyonel! I love your cock!"
"Do you love it more than your husband's?"
Smack!
"I love it more than my husband's!"
"Are you my broodmare?"
Smack!
She panted like an animal, and her cunt-lips quivered, "Yes!"
He pulled his fingers from her cunt, and the drenched digits were connected to it by strings that severed when he smeared his fingers across the inward dip of her spine. "Then it's time I finally breed you."
"Wh-what?" was all she managed before he stuck his fingers into her mouth and muffled her cries of protest as she realized his intentions.
His girthy cock was already lined at her entrance, and he buried into her to the hilt, and laughed when her body trembled under him with an orgasm ripping through her, her cries of mind-numbing pleasure muffled by his fingers feeding her own cunt-juice to her.
He gave her no reprieve and thrust rapidly into her, bed creaking beneath his assault on his breeder-mother. She moaned and groaned as he pushed his fingers down on her tongue, and his cock pushed into her cervix time and time again. He raised his hand and brought it down on her cheek.
Smack!
She yelped, and he continued smacking her ass as his fingers slipped out of her mouth and gripped her hair in a blond tangle between his fingers, and like reins of a horse tugged everytime his strong hips met with her rippling buttocks, jerking her head backwards everytime he filled out into her.
"AH! Ah! Ah! Ah! Fuck! L-Lyonel, don't finish inside. I know what you said, but don't do it. We shouldn't. It's not safe."
His rapid pace quickened impossibly, and his hips' movement dazed her senses as she began to babble mindlessly in a desperate but careless plea, her caution to not have her perfect and virile son pump a baby into her womb a mere shadow of an afterthought, on the forefront of her mind the desire of a bitch to be bred by her son - the pinnacle of a lion's strength in a man's body - and have her womb swell with her child-and-grandchild. She wanted to dilute the Lannister bloodline by popping out a black-haired and blue-eyed son and raise it to be a beast like its father and breed others, or a black-haired and blue-eyed daughter to be raised with a lioness' fierceness and subservience to her father, to be fucked and dominated by Lyonel as Cersei was, and to lay that daughter on top of Cersei, breasts cushioning her head, as her father pumped her against her mother's body and filled her womb, continuing the incestuous cycle of breeding that would go on forever, never stopping.
Not a son wouldn't be let out into the world to cuckold lesser men and breed their wives, and not one of Lyonel's daughters wouldn't be raped into loving her father and becoming his broodmare as Cersei was.
This was Cersei's true desire, but still she babbled like a fool and feigned unwillingness to be bred as was her fate.
She was thankful Lyonel didn't care about her apparent wants and only fucked her harder.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to. Or maybe if you beg me not to impregnate you, I'll show mercy."
"No! Don't!"
"Don't, what?"
Her voice jerked with every tug of her hair, and everytime his cockhead struck her womb she lost more and more of her mind to him, "Please, don't breed me!"
"Beg."
"Don't breed me, I beg of you!"
"Say it again," he demanded.
"Don't breed me!"
"Again."
"Don't breed me!"
Suddenly, he let go of her hair before thrusting into her a final time with such force that she flew forward to the other end of the bed, and prompted her to whine when his cock left her canal empty and wet. "I'm not convinced," he grinned, grabbing onto her ankles and pulling her back to him to spin her on her back. He wound his arms beneath her back and pushed his muscled torso against her, her breasts squished against his chest and her flat belly flinching from the sudden heat emanating from his abs.
"I think you want to be bred, don't you?"
Dazed as she was, she could only shake her head meekly, "D-don't… Don't... "
His eyebrow rose, "Don't…?"
"Breed me... "
"Breed you?" He laughed, "And I thought you didn't want to be bred."
Her emerald Lannister eyes widened in panic and she tried to plead, "N-no, that's not-"
"Oh, well. I can't refuse my broodmare, can I?"
"Lyonel, I demand you-!" Her pathetic attempt at control of the situation ended in failure when he plunged into her with a powerful thrust that shook the bed and forced a scream from her lungs, one he quickly silenced with a kiss, latching his lips onto hers and raping her mouth with his tongue.
Her muffled moans vibrated his mouth and her cunt's muscles worked to milk the cum from his cock, pulling at it repeatedly in unison with his pulling out and thrusting in, and she orgasmed then and there, gushing against him and slicking his cock and legs with her fluid. Up and down he went; up and down, and up and down, bouncing his pelvis off her ass, battering the very womb from which he gestalted and would gestalt his seed into for the rest of her worthless whore-mother's life.
He pulled away from her lips and a string of saliva connected his tongue to her mouth, and he said to her in a voice that brokered no argument, "Listen well, mother. My time will come soon, and I will be king. I will overthrow Joffrey, and you'll do nothing about it. I don't know when it will happen, but it will be before father drops dead. And you will be there suckling my cock as I plan it, and you will listen to every word I say, when I say it, and how I say it. Understood?"
Cersei had gone from a lioness to a brain-dead harlot with nary a thought other than bearing her son's children and being little more than his bed slave during his reign. She imagined herself kneeling under the table of the small council and nursing on his cock, emptying the viscous contents of his heavy and full nuts down her throat, and her belly was swollen with his daughters whom would grow up to be busty and voluptuous and beautiful, and whom she would raise to become his cum-toilets.
Smack!
Her lustful and depraved thoughts were interrupted suddenly when his hand smacked her face, and her head snapped to the side, and she awoke.
"Do you understand, I asked!"
"Y-yes!" she begged desperately.
"What did I say, whore?"
"I'll listen! I'll listen as you overthrow Joffrey!" She screamed out in climax again.
"Good. Swear me an oath, mother. Swear it as I fill your womb. Swear as I put a babe in you."
He stopped to brace his arms beside her head, and she took the time to wrap her legs around his waist. He began anew in pounding into her, and her noises of pleasure resounded.
"I swear I will listen as you plot to kill Joffrey! I'll suck your cock dry and praise you! I'll ride you the night it happens, and when we're at his funeral, I want you to fuck me as I look down on Joffrey's face!"
Lyonel slammed his lips into her and roared into her mouth as he reached his climax. His cock twitched in her womb with every rope, and she flinched involuntarily as every one struck her womb like small pinches, whimpering as she orgasmed a final time. His final shot proved too much for her body to hold in, and squirted out around his cock and landed on the ground and stained his pelvis. She felt the hot cum boil inside her, turning her brain into mush slowly, and when her virile son pulled out with a wet plop, his babybatter flowed out slowly from her twitching cunt, literally steaming.
Lyonel looked on in satisfaction as her entire body shook from the aftershock of her climaxes, and she soon fell unconscious.
He walked to the other side of the bed and lifted her head unceremoniously by her blonde hair to dry himself off. When he finished and her hair was white-stained, he pulled her unconscious body to the ground and wiped the cum and cunt-juices with what parts of her hair wasn't ruined already by his nut-brew.
By the end, he left her on the ground with nothing more than her ripped dress to keep her warm, and went to sleep on his bed.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
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