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"She is wet!" Sansa exclaimed bewildered, her heart hammering in her chest from excitement. She rubbed her fingers, coated with the older girl's fluids together absently, glancing confused at her husband. Margaery was slightly panting behind her, whimpering lowly, the scent of her arousal filling the air around Sansa.

Unbelieving of what just had happened, Sansa searched help with Tyrion, finding him having his hands wound tightly around the armrests of the chair. She recognised the expression on his face, the look of heated lust, like when he filled her with his seed, mixed with a sort of embarrassment, but also growing lust.

Sansa's blood rushed faster through her body, whipped by a similar sensation, her smallclothes dampened by her own arousal. She glanced quickly back to Margaery, the girl was still obediently bend over the table, her lightly pink, round arse pushed up in the air, her legs slightly opened, like welcoming Sansa.

Her hand felt filled with small needles tingling her skin, an urge to feel the girl's skin clashing with her palm again. The thought causing her folds to moisten further, arousal burning in her. – What was wrong with her, how could she enjoy that? Why wanted she more?

Mortified by her own wants, she turned back to Tyrion, hoping for a solution. He had not moved, however, the heat in his mismatched eyes had intensified, making her quiver in lust. She needed him, needed him now.

With long steps she crossed the distance between them, trying to get away from Margaery before she couldn't help herself anymore. Stopping at his side, she locked her eyes with his, a quick glance over him, betraying what had happened in his breeches. Even so, instead of appalling her, she felt the heat growing once more, a small sigh escaping her. She wanted him badly.

In mutual understanding, Sansa reached out and freed one of his hands from the armrest. Pulling Tyrion from his chair, she dragged him behind her towards the bedroom, her vision narrowing to the door, sweat forming on her back.

At the instant they reached their bed, Margaery was forgotten. Sansa carelessly kicked of her shoes, beforehand pulling her gown over her head, together with her smallclothes, feeling her own dampness gliding over her belly.

She let herself fall down, back first, on their soft bed, scrambling to the headboard, she propped herself against it, trembling in anticipation. Sansa removed a wild strand of auburn hair out of her face, finding Tyrion still jumping around wildly, struggling rushed to remove his trousers. Finally free, he climbed hastily on the bed, gazing up to Sansa. She spread her long white legs welcoming, licking her lips teasingly.

He was already hard again. With a predatory grin, he crawled quickly between her legs, bringing his head close to hers. Sansa didn't waste any more time, moving forward, she pressed her lips against his, one of her legs crooking around his hip. Tyrion cupped both of her cheeks, his hot breath on her face. Sansa opened her mouth further, welcoming his tongue in her mouth, her hand going towards the back of his neck, while their teeth clicked together in their heated demand.

A small, but strong hand moved down her cheek, gliding his soft skin luscious over her neck, further down. Sansa moaned against his mouth after he reached her breast, letting his finger move over her nipple, encircling it, making her mummer a husky "Yes". Sansa buckled her hips, needing him inside her.

Tyrion however apparently decided to torture her more. Moving his lips down suckling at her pulse, while his free hand took his manhood and let it hover over her glistering folds, not penetration her but teasing her with is hot flesh.

"Not fair" Sansa whined wantonly, her breath going short. She moved her hips, seeking friction over the soft surface of his manhood, moaning whenever his purple head grazed her wetness, ready to go in. Closing her eyes, she let her lust take over completely. Urging Tyrion further down She hooked her legs together behind him, moving her hips to another angle, trying to force him in.

He understood the hint, but moved torturously slow, aligning his manhood with the new angle. Her husband moved further down on her, kissing down her chest, before taking her other nipple in his mouth, sucking at it gently, his tongue sliding over it, while rolling the other between his fingers.

Sansa moaned loudly, more insistent, buckling her hips again, slowly penetrating herself on his member. He stretched her wet womanhood, animalistic sounds escaping her in her need, hot sweat pooling around her. In one sudden, delicious trust Tyrion pushed in her to the rim, biting down on her nipple lightly, Sansa screamed in ecstasy.

He continued to slowly move in and out of her, making her moan loudly, he used his free hand to let two fingers graze over the bud in her folds, making her buckle. She met his trusts eagerly, pushing herself up and down with her hands on his shoulders. Her legs went undone, a stream of pleasure moans escaping her, while he moved inside her walls

Tyrion unexpectedly let go of her nipple, making her grumble in protest. He smiled up to her, his face twisting in a lust matching her own, she panted nodding towards him.

He slightly speed up his pace, grapping her hips with both hands he pulled her hips back, using his unnatural strong arms. Sansa sacked down fully on her back, using her legs to once again adjust the angle, letting him deeper inside her.

In this position Tyrion's head only reached to her neck, forcing him to focus his attention on her sternum, licking his way over the curves of her breasts while one of his hands returned to its task in tandem with his manhood. His administrations causing Sansa's head to swim blurredly.

Sansa felt her lust rising to the peak inside her, entangling her hands in his hair she felt the tremors of their lovemaking building up. "Tyrion" She cried loudly.

Her inner walls clamped down on him, Sansa letting out a long groan, her hands fisted in his hair whilst her body shook in her pleasure. Tyrion grunted, mixing the crude sound with her delicate moans. Sansa felt him spraying his seed deep inside her, her body milking his.

The strength that had kept her body halfway up resolved itself, making her collapse on the bed, with Tyrion's small frame upon her, his softening member still inside her.

Breathing heavily, Sansa let go of his hair, her arms falling to her side, her legs splayed out on the bedsheet. She glimpsed down herself. Her husband lied with his head on her breast, as if they were his pillow, panting heavily. Sansa was content with letting him rest there, she enjoyed the rests of her peak cursing through her.

She made a whining sound when Tyrion rolled down off her, his member slipping out of her, letting her behind with a feeling of emptiness. He rested himself beside her, on his back, only moving up, so their heads were on the same level. Sansa turned her head to him, too exhausted to move her body.

She found his eyes glistering with what she only ever interpreted as love, his live for her. She felt how his hand came up to her, cupping her cheek, feeling the remains of her own wetness linger on him.

Sansa closed in, kissing him passionately.

"Gods" Tyrion exhaled breathlessly, once they had collapsed back limply.

"Yes" Sansa agreed giggling lightly, laying the flat of her hand on her hot forehead, not able to move properly. "What just happened?"

"You ask me?" Tyrion chuckled at her side. "You dragged me here. Not complaining though."

Yes she had, a little feeling of embarrassment for what she had done trying to overcome her, but failed against the remains of her lust.

"You certainly enjoyed it" Sansa beamed, turning finally on her side to face her little husband, slowly dragging her hand over his chest playfully. "I could see that very well."

"How couldn't I" He replied, taking her hand in his, pulling her towards him. Sansa complied happily, lying her head on his chest, pulling her feet close to him, while he murmured mischievously: "You enjoyed yourself as well, didn't you?"

"Maybe" Sansa hinted, closing her eyes, feeling safe in his embrace. She had enjoyed it, oh yes, she shouldn't have, but she had had. It had had aroused her so much, she had had to fulfil her needs, needed to be with Tyrion.

Slowly, the exhaustion of the last hours crept back in her body, more than a day without rest, filled with turmoil demanding the price of her. She wanted nothing more than just sleep for the rest of the day, or maybe next as well. She felt how Tyrion stretched out overly ambitious, trying not to disturb her while pulling the blanked over them.

They had settled in nicely in their spacious bed, Sansa ready to drift into sleep, listening to Tyrion's steady heartbeat when a thought popped into her mind.

"What is with Margaery?" She asked, forcing herself up against the will of her aching limps, and paining eyes, as much as Tyrion's unwilling grunt to let her slip away. Once more she braced herself up against the headboard, keeping the blanked pulled to her chest, she glanced to her side, down at a visibly equally exhausted husband, slowly coming back to live. "Where is she?"

"I don't know" Tyrion declared sleepy, rubbing his eyes. "Where we left her?"

"She can't still be bend over the table?" Sansa asked unbelieving, a small glint of excitement shooting through her at the image of Margaery waiting over the table obediently. "Margaery?" Sansa called out hesitantly, realising Margaery had probably listened to them making love, causing her cheeks to flush pink with embarrassment, combined with something else she didn't want to admit.

"Maybe you do it wrong?" Tyrion suggested when there was no response. Shrugging, smirking at her flushed cheeks, earning himself a little warning glare, he started with his fake authoritative voice: "Margaery! Come here!"

"I could have done that as well" Sansa scolded him playfully, an unwanted grin on her face.

"Of course" He agreed apologetic, grinning back. Sansa turned her eyes to the door, thinking she not only could have issued the command, but secretly wanted to as well. What was wrong with her?

"Master, Mistress." Margaery walked into the room after a short moment, her hands folded in front of her, her eyes downcast. Her nakedness made Sansa suddenly aware of her own, as well as Tyrion's. Looking to her side she found him, the blanked only covering his lower body. A nasty flash of jealously made her shoot a glare at Margaery, finding her, however, with her eyes still on her feet. Sansa regretted her outburst momentarily. She contemplated with herself, that if they should get nightgowns, decided however against it, they had seen Margaery naked and vulnerable, so false reservation seemed hypocritical.

"We will go to sleep." Sansa explained to the older girl, keeping her voice soft and friendly: "You must be tired as well. If you want, you can sleep in the bed, you will find a blanked and a pillow there" Sansa pointed to a trunk at the wall. The bed was large, she and Tyrion only occupied the upper half. Margaery wouldn't disturb them, or be disturbed on the other half.

Margaery lowered her head deeper, without saying a word and went to the trunk. Sansa followed her naked form with her eyes, not able to rip herself from it. The silver shackles glinted in the early afternoon light. The moment Margaery bend down to fetch the blanked and pillow, she offered them a clear view of her pink arse. Sansa's breath hitched, a weight of anticipation lowering itself in her chest.

She searched absently for Tyrion's hand, grabbing it tight, without looking away from her handiwork on Margaery's buttocks. Excitement returned to her.

Margaery turned her body, blanked and pillow now covering her nakedness. She glanced questioning to Sansa. She indicated Margaery to the end of the bed, observing her, settling down, finally covering herself completely. That made Sansa feel a pang of regret for that.

She resettled back to her husband's side, they returned to their former position, Sansa slightly moaning, feeling his arm coming around her. In each other's embrace they fell asleep, overwhelmed by exhaustion.

-##-

Sansa woke up stirring in the morning, to the feeling of Tyrion's hand stroking through her silky hair. She made an unladylike growl, snuggling closer to him, not willing to open her eyes, while replaying the pleasant, and only the pleasant memories of the last day.

Finally opening her eyes, Sansa beheld Margaery's sleeping form looking down Tyrion's and her bodies. A weird mixture of emotions rummaging through her, creating a sigh.

"What are we supposed to do with her now?" Tyrion asked her, near whispering, stroking her head on his chest. Sansa didn't turn, just thinking while observing the older woman.

"I don't know" Sansa confessed, confused about her own wishes. "She can't be our slave." Sansa asked him, not turning her head, continuing: "Can she?"

"You want her to, don't you?" Tyrion whispered cheekily, Sansa could practically hear his grin with a hint of hope in it. Scandalised she ripped her head from his chest, sitting half up beside him, looking down.

"And you?" She asked half accusing, "I have seen you. You want to…"

"… fuck her?" Tyrion finished her sentences with the obscene word, smirking knowingly at her: "Don't play coy with me my love. I also have seen you. You want it too." Sansa pouted her lips outraged, knowing he was right, but not able to accept it yet. "Seeing you, disciplining her, was something I never thought would be so … erotic. I admit that." Tyrion continued, taking her hand in his, she allowing him. "Something dark was touched in me. And I recognised also in you: a wanton desire we both seem to have." Tyrion paused for a moment, looking her deep in the eyes, waiting for her to acknowledge his words. Sansa felt the truth, how she enjoyed it. How she enjoyed it together with him. After her nod he spoke again, assuring her: "I am not sure what is next, how we will indulge our newfound … let's say interest. However, I will not dishonour you, my Lady. I am not Robert, nor some eastern slaver. I will not do anything with Margaery, you won't allow."

"So you can blame me?" Sansa asked, half joking, deep affection streaming through her body again. She gave him a smile, kissing his head. "What now then?" She asked, straightening up again.

"Maybe first we should ask if she still holds on to her decision." Sansa's husband gestured towards the sleeping form: "Maybe we have nauseated her enough to try running."

"You think?" Sansa wasn't able to contain her disappointment and anxiousness. Now, after coming to terms with what had seemed so ludicrous not a day ago, she felt a malicious desire. Yes, she realised, she wanted Margaery to be theirs, hers and Tyrion's, they both together, being Master and Mistress.

"Mhm" Tyrion sounded, looking up at her, as if he knew exactly what she thought. "We can ask her?" A roguish smirk on his lips he whispered: "And maybe then, we can have her fulfil her first task?"

"You mean?" Sansa inquired, letting the rest of the question linger in the air, knowing exactly what he had meant.

"Oh yes" Tyrion's grin widened, he tapped his finger on her nose "And we let her start with you."

"Me?" Sansa shrieked shocked "But how would that…" She averted her eyes embarrassed, realising her ignorance in such matters "…how would that work?"

"I am sure she will have an idea" Tyrion kissed her hand, "I will be there to watch you, make sure she does it right. Trust me."

Sansa nodded, hesitantly, feeling nervousness heating her skin. However, the wetness between her legs betrayed the spirit of her body.

"Margaery" Sansa called out softly, her hand gripping Tyrion's harder in her nervousness, she wouldn't let go of him.

Margaery was rousing up, lightly, slowly turning around, causing Sansa's eyes to behold her delicate breasts, as soon as the blanked fell off her. Margaery looked disordered at Sansa and Tyrion, but for only a moment, maybe realising the last days hadn't been a dream.

Margaery rose herself to her knees on the bed, afterwards, lowering her head again in her familiar timid pose. She looked rested, her chest heaving slightly with a steady breath. Sansa was surprised not to find evidence of sleepiness in her face. Had she been awake all the time, secretly listening to Tyrion and her?

"Have you reconsidered your decision?" Tyrion took the initiative first, asking her gently and considerate. "Don't be afraid" Sansa watched Margaery strained, arousal heating her insides.

"No Master" Margaery replied submissive, causing Sansa's inside to explode in a wave of exhilaration, a wide smile forming on her face. She tugged Tyrion's hand hard, signalling him he should continue quickly.

"Is that so?" Tyrion stretched his question long, accompanied by a lewd tone, Sansa didn't know from him. "Then, slave, it is time for you to do your duty. Begin with making your Mistress feel good."

Margaery's head shot up, her eyes widened, she starred, firsts at Tyrion, then at Sansa, her sweet mouth slightly opened. Sansa observed her, insecure, anxious what she would do next. Margaery smiled contented. She lowered her head again, moving on her hands and knees, seductively crawling towards Sansa.

Sansa felt how Tyrion used his free hand to pull the cover from their bodies, letting it fall to the ground, exposing boths' nakedness to Margaery. Gulping, Sansa spread her legs undecidedly, allowing Margaery to crawl between them, raising to her knees in front of Sansa. She could feel her nervousness reaching unusual levels, looking right in Margaery's hazel eyes, her thick and soft brown curls framing her face.

Margaery leaned into Sansa, bringing her lips close to hers. Swiftly Sansa, though, brought her finger between them, laying it on the older girl's lips, hardening her gaze. She wouldn't let Margaery kiss her on the lips, they weren't lovers. The thought heightened her excitement further, a certain confidence strengthening Sansa resolve. Confident she slowly shook her head, smirking at Margaery.

The girl's head lowered in affirmation, before proceeding down, her lips finding connection with Sansa's neck, suckling at her flesh.

Shortly after a moan escaped Sansa's lips, her hand tightened around Tyrion's. Margaery was teasingly kissing her way down her body, her hands resting on Sansa's wide open thighs. It felt so different, Margaery's mouth closed around one of her nipples, making Sansa whimper in need.

Sansa buried her free hand in Margaery's hair, urging her downwards between her legs, grasping how she would pleasure her. The girl complied without protest, only pausing to swirl her tongue around Sansa's belly button.

Margaery came to a rest between her legs, tentatively guiding her tongue through Sansa's moist lips. Another whimper escaped Sansa, it felt so good. Different from Tyrion, Margaery's tongue felt different, the absence of beard stumble turning it in something different.

Margaery licked her folds boldly, with long clear darts. Sansa felt heat build-up in her. The mixture of pleasure with the height of power she felt over her dominion of Margaery, the thought of another woman serving her, driving her closer to her peak.

Margaery closed her lips over Sansa's little nub, sucking at it with vigour. Sansa bit her fist, burying her head in Tyrion's neck, moaning trembling, her eyes closed. The world became blurry around her, her grip of his hand tightened again, surely near causing blood.

Sansa opened her eyes again, finding her husband, lightly stroking his manhood, watching her, watching her being pleasured by Margaery - their slave.

This thought, combined with another expertly ministration from Margaery's lips and tongue brought her over the edge in a shattering height.

-##-

Tyrion closed his eyes by the loud moan Sansa practically screamed in his ear, wincing by the pain her nails caused, digging into his hand, while simultaneously stroking his cock. He thought himself the luckiest fool alive, what he saw was too amazing to comprehend fully at all.

Sansa trembled in her release, burying her head deeper into his neck, riding her pleasure out on Margaery's face. Tyrion observed her auburn curls rubbing in the girl's face with a lecherous stare.

"Gods" Sansa moaned, heavily breathing. Not looking, she used her free hand to wave Margaery away from her folds. The girl sat up on her knees, Tyrion seeing with satisfaction the evidence of his wife's arousal glistering on her face. It looked incredible.

Sansa rode out her peak, Tyrion watching her libidinous, his hand striking his cock faster. However he had enough sense to not fasten his strokes too much, hoping he would be at the receiving end of something better soon. The new dark side his wife and he had discovered enticing him, strengthening their bond.

"Oh gods" Sansa once more hailed the Seven, or the old Gods maybe, before finally finding her control back. Still quivering lightly she turned her head from his neck, letting her head rest on his shoulder, watching Margaery for a moment.

"Now your turn." She murmured to him. Tyrion felt his already hard cock growing painfully harder in his hand. He turned his head, glancing at Sansa's face. "Margaery. Ensure the same for him now."

Now it was Tyrion's turn to gulp, watching the Rose of Highgarden sliding over the covers between his legs, her cuffed hands wandering over his thighs. His breath shortened, watching her face hovering close to his cock, her eyes glancing up at him.

He let go of his manhood, gripping the bedsheet beside him, his other hand still in Sansa's. He breathed heavily, waiting for the next part. He had never asked Sansa do that for him, never wanting to scare or disgust her. Witnessing her ordering Margaery to do this was so inconceivable.

Margaery gave his shaft a small, teasing kiss on the tip, provoking a groan out of Tyrion. It had been so long that he had such soft lips on his cock. Margaery proceeded to kiss his manhood down nibbling at the base. Her tongue slipped out of her mouth, twirling over his sensitive flesh before in one long lick she made her way back to the tip.

She continued to lick his cock up and down, not using her hands, but her lips, same as she had done for Sansa. Tyrion watched her, biting his lower lip, his face grimaced in lust, his excitement further heightened by Sansa's hot breath at his side.

Margaery finally reached the tip of his cock again, enclosing it with her lips, forcing a whine out of him. She sucked at him, her twirling tongue sliding over his slit, procuring precum. Tyrion threw his head back the instance she slowly brought him deeper in her hot, wet mouth.

"Fuck" he exhaled, his head falling to his side, towards Sansa. He gazed in her deep blue eyes, filled with lust. She smiled at him, while Margaery bobbed her head up and down the first part of his shaft. Tyrion leaned in, catching her lips passionately. Sansa aggressively answering the kiss her free hand on his chest.

When they broke their connection Tyrion had nearly forgotten the lips on his cock, nearly. Sansa smirked at him, her eyes lowering to his crotch. Tyrion followed her gaze to Margaery's curls. The girl moved up and down his manhood with the same enthusiasm she had shown Sansa, nonetheless, not taking more than half of him in her mouth. Tyrion didn't care, her tongue at the underside of his cock making up for that.

His eyes widened noticing Sansa's free hand suddenly resting on Margaery's head, urging her further down on his cock. Tyrion could only gape. He felt the back of Margaery's throat hitting the tip of his cock. Margaery gagged lightly, but Sansa wouldn't stop, urging the girl to take more of him inside her - all of him

Tyrion was beyond the capability to stop her with reason, nor willing to do so. The sensation felt amazing, feeling his cock slipping in Margaery's throat. Sansa moved Margaery faster up and down, fucking his cock with her mouth.

He tightened his hand in the bedsheet, groaning loudly. A powerful orgasm hit him, spilling his seed in the eager awaiting mouth. Tyrion threw his head back again, watching to half closed eyes how Margaery swallowed his seed without hesitation. Sansa let go of the girl, allowing her to look up. Tyrion's limp cock plopped out of her mouth, her eyes little red but still a smile on her face. She cleaned Tyrion's shaft with her tongue, making him quiver again before sitting back on her knees, head lowered again, the evidence of Sansa's and his arousal now on her face.

"Gods" Tyrion groaned, closing his eyes. He was spend, exhausted, again. "I haven't prayed so much in a long time." He joked, enjoying Sansa's giggle in his ears.

"Me neither" She kissed him on the cheek, snuggling closer to him she pulled her legs towards him. "What now?"

"We should reward her, shouldn't we?" Tyrion suggested breathless, looking to Margaery who waited docile.

"What do you mean?" Sansa asked suspiciously, making him chuckle. He turned, cupping her cheek. "Trust me." - She nodded. - "Margaery" he addressed their slave, yes she was now unmistakable theirs'. "I want you at the end of the bed facing us, on your knees, legs spread."

While Margaery obeyed wordlessly, - by the gods, Tyrion had no idea what was going on in this one's head, - he observed the curious, watchful eyes of his wife following her. Once in position Tyrion turned his attention back to Margaery:

"I want you to touch yourself" he ordered grinned salacious, "and give us a good show."

Tyrion leaned his head against Sansa both watching Margaery attentive while she brought her hand between her glistering folds, her wetness already running down the inside of her legs. She didn't protest, or hesitate, but began rubbing herself eagerly, using her other hand to knead her shapely breast. She moaned lustfully, bringing herself to a peak. Sansa and Tyrion watched until she collapsed backwards, moaning loudly.

Tyrion went closer to Sansa, both watching the panting slave silently, content.