A commissioned story. All characters are over the age of 18.
Arya frowned, staring down at the skirt wrapped around her waist, eyeing the blue and grey fabric that flowed all the way to the floor. As bad as the skirt was, the corset was worse. It was as if Arya wasn't supposed to breathe at all. Perhaps the dress may have been a lovely sight had it been on a woman who was more… womanly. Alas, it was not so. The dress was not being worn by a "womanly" woman. It was being worn by Arya Stark of Winterfell. An unfortunate situation for the dress and Arya both.
"You two look wonderful." Said her mother, the Lady of Winterfell, Catelyn Stark. The older woman smiled happily as she regarded her two daughters with equal amounts of pride and love. Sansa curtsied like the good young lady she was. Arya often envied her sister, what with how easy it was for the older redhead to slip into the natural, lovely role of a young noble girl.
"I look stupid, more like." Arya muttered, shifting in place in a vain attempt to find a position in which her dress did not feel like a suffocating beast.
"Arya, not this again…" She heard her Sansa groan beside her. But the younger Stark sister could only give an exasperated sigh. The dresses were designed for thin, willowy ladies like her sister Sansa or Jeyne Poole, not girls like Arya who were short and thick - or rather as Lady Catelyn put it, "full-bodied".
"I'm only speaking the truth, Sansa." Arya snapped, looking down at the cloth monstrosity that ensnared her. "I don't like dresses and dresses don't like me. Been that way all my life. It's not going to change now just because the entire King's Court is coming down here to Winterfell. Father's throwing a big dinner and everything but do I really have to get dressed up like this? It's embarrassing, mother! Like putting boots on a wolf!"
Lady Catelyn, to her credit, was as patient as a mother could be. A warm smile spread across her mature face as she approached her wild daughter.
"Arya, my sweet girl," She began, bringing a hand to Arya's cheek. "I know you hate dresses…"
"Everyone in the North knows Arya hates dresses." Sansa murmured under her breath.
"Hush, Sansa." Lady Catelyn said firmly. She turned back to Arya, smiling again. "You are your father's daughter, Arya. The blood of the north runs hot in your veins, wild like a wolf. But the Southron Lords and Ladies have certain… sensibilities. Certain expectations of young noble ladies like you and Sansa. I know you hate it, child, but it is only for one night. Noble ladies must impress their queen, after all."
"That dress doesn't suit you at all." Queen Cersei purred into Arya Stark's ear. The youngest daughter of Winterfell could feel the Queen's fingers working at the laces of her corset, the blonde's breath hot on Arya's neck.
Arya had a reputation in the North of being a wild woman, this was true. And perhaps there was even some weight to the rumors of her peculiar tastes when it came to bedmates. A young woman who had no interest in taking a husband but made many, many friends among the young noble girls - at least among those who returned her interest. A scandalous bunch of affairs, if true.
But Arya Stark did not plan this. At all.
"Too many damned laces…" Arya could hear the Queen mutter before her lips found skin again. Arya let loose a small moan before biting down on her lip. She couldn't be too loud. Not when there was still a dinner happening in the main hall. But Cersei, the blonde lion, seemed absolutely determined to make Arya scream. The woman was insistent, one hand reaching around and slipping down under Arya's dress, grabbing a handful of pale breast…
"Seven hells…" Arya hissed as Cersei's fingers squeezed and kneaded and played with her hard nipples, her other hand frantically working to rid the Stark girl of the unholy dress that kept her body hidden.
In all honesty, Arya never would have guessed that the Queen was anything like herself. Cersei was tall, elegant, beautiful… with a severe gaze that came with the sense that she thought she was better than everyone else. Right off the bat, Arya hadn't liked her much. So the fact that their current tryst was even happening at all was a big surprise. All Arya did was say hello. The polite formalities that nobles shared in greeting. How that led to this was a mystery. All the same, it was indeed happening… A thought which dawned on the young Stark lady like the Dornish morning sunrise.
I'm going to fuck the Queen of Westeros, Arya Stark realized with a tiny grin.
The sound of fabric tearing ripped through the empty hall.
...Or maybe the Queen is going to fuck me.
"Hey!" Arya cried out before quickly silencing herself. She may not have liked wearing her dress, but there was no doubt it was expensive to make. Mother would not approve of such carelessness from her. The Stark girl felt the cloth prison giving way as Cersei tugged the back open to expose naked skin. She felt warm, soft hands slip under the fabric to run across her skin, pushing the sleeves off of her slender shoulders. One hand found the back of Arya's head and undid the tight bun that was her hair. Dark locks fell across her back in waves and Cersei moved them aside, throwing them over her shoulder to expose the skin once more.
"Better," Cersei whispered. Arya could hear the wicked little smile that spread across the Queen's full, red lips. "Much better."
The Queen was ravenous. Lips and tongue at Arya's neck, hands tugging what remained of the dress away, getting their fill of tits, teasing her, claiming her. It felt good. Very good. Usually Arya was the one pinning girls against the wall and tearing dresses to ribbons. To be on the other end of such lustful hunger was… an illuminating experience.
Had Arya Stark been a more impressionable girl, she might have let things continue as they were. But Ned Stark didn't raise a foolish girl. As enjoyable the Queen's attentions were, she and Arya were still a stone's throw away from a very noble, very busy dinner. To commit such a treason as fucking the Queen, right there in an open hallway…
"My bedchambers…" Arya managed to say, now naked from the waist up.
Queen Cersei made a sound that may have been acknowledgement but her lips remained attentive to the Stark girl's neck, planting kisses, teasing with her teeth, and other good things.
"We can't stay here," Arya insisted. "We'll get caught. Let's go to my bedchambers."
Cersei gave a chuckle. Arya could feel her hot breath as she put her lips right next to her ear. The younger woman felt a shiver go down her back. The good kind.
"I thought you were supposed to be the wild one," Cersei teased, cupping the girl's breasts and squeezing lightly, pale flesh just beginning to spill over her fingers. "Afraid of being caught? The King won't care. He knows I fuck girls. He likes that I fuck girls."
It was an admittedly unsurprising revelation but Arya still felt unsure.
"I want privacy," She replied, insistent. Slipping out of the Queen's hold, she turned to face the blonde siren. Matching eyes with a hungry, lustful stare, Arya's breath caught in her throat. Still she kept her wits about her and did not back down. She repeated herself, voice firm. "I want privacy… For what I'm going to do to you."
The Queen regarded her for a moment… and gave a wicked little smirk. She took Arya by the hand and began to lead her down the hall, away from the Dinner.
"Your bedchambers, then."
Miraculously, they made to Arya's bedchambers unnoticed. As soon as the door closed behind them, Cersei resumed her attack. Stripping what remained of the dress from Arya's full figure, the Queen all but shoved the Stark girl back onto her large bed. Naked and on her back, the Wild Daughter of Winterfell had never felt quite as… exposed. An odd - but not unwelcome - role-reversal for the young lady.
Cersei, tall and elegant as a Lannister - A royal Lannister - ought to be, strode forward with purposeful steps, hungry eyes staring down at her voluptuous meal. The Queen undid the laces on her own dress - conveniently located on her front, just below her sizable bosom - and began to peel it away from her body, letting the gown fall to the floor.
The Lioness Queen was indeed every bit as beautiful as she was said to be, all long legs and flowing golden hair. Arya had been no fan of the Lannisters. They were arrogant, scheming, and above all, frustratingly good-looking. That last part made it especially difficult to say "no" to the Queen. Her naked tits made it even harder.
"It should be considered treason to hide away a body like yours in some frilly dress," Cersei purred as she descended upon Arya with ravenous ferocity. Her hands grabbed, groped, kneaded, her nails raking lightly across pale, sensitive skin, pawing at Arya's nubile, young body as if she were a toy to be played with, something for the Lioness to bat around for her pleasure. Cersei's lips followed soon after, finding their way to Arya's breasts. The Queen's hungry mouth sucked and kissed and licked with lustful abandon, sending shocks of pleasure jolting through the younger woman's body as her teeth teased at the tiny, budding nipples.
"Gods!" Arya cried, her body twisting and turning under Queen Cersei's ministrations. The sensations the blonde set upon her were intoxicating, addicting. Arya Stark was too far gone to stop any of it. She was in the Lion's den now. "Fuck!"
The Queen moved down Arya's body, kissing, licking, nipping all the way down. She had the She-Wolf gasping by the time she settled between the poor thing's legs. Cersei spread them apart with her hands, one planted on the inside of each thigh. As fun as teasing the girl was, Cersei wanted the true prize and all the sweet delights that came with it.
Arya's sex was set before her, dripping and ready, the main dish of the evening. It was truly a delicious sight, the young lady's pink quim glistening in the candlelight, begging for someone to have a taste. Cersei plunged two fingers into the wet, needy cunt. It was tight fit, but the girl's shriek was the sweetest music the Queen had ever heard.
"You really are a wolf," Cersei mused as she worked her fingers in and out, slow and agonizing. The moans she drew from the Stark girl's lips were wanton, lustful, obscene… And she needed more. "Tight, little hairy cunt. You've never been fucked, have you?"
The Stark girl squirmed under Cersei's touch, but remained defiant.
"I'm no maid," She hissed, arching her back as the Lioness curled her fingers.
"But you've never been fucked." Cersei affirmed with a hungry smile. "Not by me."
The Queen pulled her fingers free and replaced them with her lips and tongue. The She-Wolf could do nothing but howl.
Arya didn't know how much time had passed. It had felt like hours were minutes - or perhaps it felt like minutes were hours. It mattered little. There was but one thing that Arya was certain of at that moment: The Queen was going to make her cum.
The woman's tongue, lashing and licking violently between her legs, was as deadly a weapon as any sword, reducing the She-Wolf of Winterfell to a whimpering mess, writhing on her bed like some rosy-cheeked maiden. The heat building in her core was growing like a raging fire, spreading white-hot pleasure to each nerve in her body. It was dragonfire, all-consuming.
"Oh!" Arya squeaked - squeaked! - feeling the boiling heat finally spill over. It was almost like an eruption, the way the agonizing ecstasy seemed to rush forth from the pit of her belly, spreading all the way to her finger-tips. Arya arched her back, fingers curled into the bedsheets, clutching them so hard she was sure her knuckles were turned bone-white. She let loose an ear-splitting cry, "Seven fucking hells!"
It was a sexual high she had never before reached. Not with the blushing ladies she had sweet-talked into her bed. She had fucked them, taken them, claimed them. But tonight it was she who had been taken, claimed. Fucked.
When Arya finally regained her breath, she looked down to find the Queen still settled between her legs, resting her chin on her thigh with a small smile on her face. Cersei's red lips were still slick with her release, the honeyed arousal dripping down her chin and onto Arya's leg.
"Sweet little cunt," Cersei hummed, her eyes still ablaze with untamed lust. "But not sweeter than mine."
Arya didn't know what came over her, but the Queen's words lit a fire inside the She-Wolf, burning bright and furious. Her heart racing, blood pumping, she was no longer spent from the Queen's skilled tongue. Now she was on top, straddling the blonde lioness as she lay on her belly. She had the Queen by the hair, fingers weaving into golden locks and closing tight in a firm grip. She pulled the woman's head back, firm but not rough.
Cersei seemed to enjoy the role-reversal, however, moaning without shame. Arya smirked then, relishing her position of power… as well as the Queen's position beneath her. The wild girl leaned down, bringing her lips to the woman's ear, barely brushing against the flushed skin.
"You're an arrogant little bitch, aren't you?" Arya taunted, her tongue snaking out across the Queen's exposed neck. Cersei hummed at her boldness, wiggling beneath the girl she had previously subjected to the same treatment.
"No manners to speak of, talking to your Queen like that." Cersei shot back, sporting an infuriating smirk. It only drove Arya to take things further. Her other hand, the one not tangled in Cersei's hair, moved behind her, finding the Queen's naked rump. Arya felt one ass cheek, then the other, squeezing when and where she desired. She could hear Cersei's breath catch in her throat as she dipped her fingers between those soft cheeks, finding her royal cunt just as wet and willing as her own had been. The Queen hummed pleasantly at her touch. "Bold girl. Perhaps you are a wild wolf."
"I can be wild," Arya affirmed. "I can be very wild. Your cunt is mine."
The She-Wolf gave in to her desires, plunging her fingers deep inside the Queen pinned beneath her. She was going to make the arrogant bitch cum. She was going to make her cum hard. Cersei Lannister may have been a lioness, gold and proud, but Arya Stark was the wild daughter of Winterfell. She had the wolfsblood and all the lusts and desires that came with it.
Her fingers worked hard and fast, merciless in their ravishment of Cersei's royal pussy. Arya still had her hold on the woman, fingers clenched tight around her golden mane. She pulled the Queen's head back, making her moan so deliciously, as she sank her fingers deep. To the second knuckle then to the third. Cersei was sopping wet now, her cunt weeping from Arya's ravenous abuse. And still Arya fucked her. Because Arya needed the bitch to scream. She needed Queen Cersei ruined.
"More," Cersei whimpered, whining as Arya fucked her hard and fast. "I need more!"
Arya obliged with vigor.
Finally, the end came with a piercing end. Cersei squealed as she found her release, shouting curses and whatnot into the mattress. Arya had her fingers plunged deep, feeling the woman convulse around her, the walls of her royal sex gripping her like a vise. Cersei writhed and twisted on the bed, trapped beneath the youngest Stark girl, riding out her orgasm, relishing every last moment of it.
Arya pulled her fingers free, slick and glistening with royal honey. She brought the fingers close to her face, taking in the musky scent of woman. Her tongue snaked out to taste some. She let the flavor settle in her mouth and swallowed. Then she brought the fingers down to Cersei, offering them. The Queen accepted, sucking the fingers into her mouth, moaning like a whore as she tasted herself.
"You like that?" Arya asked, almost as breathless as the Queen was. The woman said nothing, but the tongue Arya felt snaking around her fingers was answer enough. "Crazy bitch."
Outside Arya Stark's bedroom waited two observers.
Both equally proud as they were enticed. They knew of the young lady's peculiar affections for other women. Perhaps they even shared it. But tonight, they merely watched to sate their curious minds.
"They're not subtle. Or Quiet." whispered Sansa Stark. The older daughter of Winterfell peered through the doors keyhole, watching the coupling unfold in all its wanton glory. All the kissing, biting, hair-pulling… It intrigued her. Even if she was watching her sister, it intrigued her. "They're practically begging to get caught, with the way they went about it all."
Lady Catelyn hummed in acknowledgement but not agreement. "Nevertheless, I am impressed. I knew the Queen had the same tastes… But Arya caught the woman's attention quicker than I thought."
Sansa rose from the keyhole, stepping back from the door. "Perhaps we should allow them some privacy?"
"We will," Answered Lady Catelyn as she took Sansa's spot just in time to see Arya and Cersei begin another bout. "It doesn't hurt to observe for a moment. The Lion and the Wolf, together in bed? A rare sight to behold."
Sansa gave a soft laugh. "They are a couple of wild ones, aren't they?"
The two Stark women would allow the two lovers their privacy… eventually.