The Heir

by Walder Frey's Boners


== The Punishment ==

Theon stretched his long legs in front of him, leaning down to rub them through the oily, matted felt of his leggings. He flicked his boot toe at an errant piece of shit lying in the rushes, probably from one of the curs that patrolled the hall. As he did this another peasant approached the Seastone chair.

"M'lard." He was old and hunched, to the point of looking like scuttling crab. His "skin" was little more than an assortment of runny scabs.

Theon waited a moment. "Yes. I'm your lord. Why are you bothering your lord?"

This was his father's idea of a punishment. Theon's rail-thin, ascetic uncle had dragged him from bed in the morning twilight, paying no regard to the scullion who still clutched her fat-choked cunt and moaned with exhaustion. Aeron did not make a good sight by morning, his robe so salted with sea water that it cracked and swung like a bell. But what came next was the true torture: a morning mass with his nuncle's wide-eyed lunatics, and no less than 5 hours listening to gum-mouthed commoners whine about their sheep.

"Torture. Because of Asha." Theon sighed to himself.


== The Crime ==

She had come to him when he landed on Great Wyk. He knew her for a noble by her smile. She had to be, the peasants rarely had teeth. She cooed at him, every inch the perfect mistress, even with her meager tits. Her skin was the color of oatmeal, and almost half as smooth. A rare find, thought Theon.

And then she had humiliated him, smirking, declaring herself a captain. Only his father's command had ceased Theon's fists, and by then her pretty face was a red ruin. Her little blond thrall had the temerity to raise his hands to Theon. The gaolers got Qarl, and Theon commanded them to whip him until he returned. Then he walked away. Four days later Theon delivered Asha a beautiful new gown as an apology, black silk befitting a lady of her station… and with it, what remained of Qarl's skull.

That was ill-done. Asha had the power of Harlaw behind her, and now Theon would need his own backers if he expected to survive.


== The Solution ==

She was a grey scab of a woman, with close-set eyes and nothing resembling tits or an ass. She was Helya Drumm, and with her hand came all the power of House Drumm. As go the Drumms so go the Stonehouses, and as go the houses of Old Wyk so go uncle Aeron's disgusting preachers. She was disgusting, but necessary.

They were married that day.

As soon as he pulled off her smallclothes he caught a whiff of sour bread. Her nipples were black as coal, and so big that they looked like two tarred thumbs emerging from inky pools. His cock refused to stand. Theon would have felt ridiculous, if he hadn't been disgusted by her pimpled farmer's back. He was halfway through pushing his limp cock into her stone-grey arrow slit when it happened: unbidden Asha's face appeared to him. Hook nose, dark skin, and that horrible, taunting smile.

He dug his fingers into Asha's taut ass and rammed his cock home, making that lank, greasy hair whip in all directions with the ferocity of his fucking. He didn't want her, he wanted her to pay. Wanted her to know. She was squeaking, not good enough. He needed to hear her penitent scream.

By the time he was done the Drumm woman was flat on the featherbed, weeping softly into her pillows. Theon sneered at the body he had just fucked. Asha flashed before his eyes again, and he saw red. Without a word he left his bride in her bed, and sought out his sister.