The lion lord was fighting back, thrashing on the bed, struggling to free himself from the iron grip that pinned him down. Gregor wrestled with him for a while to gauge his strength before he grew bored and flipped him onto his stomach, twisting his arms behind his back.
His eyes were searching for the cord he'd brought to tie his hands when he got a better idea. He grabbed the man's sword hand, bending and twisting the wrist until he heard a muffled howl of pain and the sweet sound of bone crunching. "Try fightin' me now!" He grunted. "Get your bloody sword an' try fighting me now."
He was tempted to snap the other wrist and his ankles as well but thought better of it. Don't be greedy, boy, leave some for later, his father used to say at dinner. Leave some for later, Gregor. He smiled as he found the cord and tied it around the lion lord's legs. Father would piss his pants if he could see me playin' with his precious liege.
The man was holding his broken wrist, staring at it as if trying to convince himself that he was only dreaming, that none of this was actually happening. The shock in his eyes gave Gregor tingles in his groin. Didn't see that comin', m'lord. Didn't think a dog could harm you. I'll show you. "Get your sword, an' maybe you can save your brother."
Smiling, he twisted his broken wrist one last time. Then he turned towards the other man next to him on the bed, cutting through the cloth of his night robe with his dagger until he lay completely naked, hands bound behind his back, his chest heaving up and down, his pale legs trembling. Still feelin' sorry for me? Still think I'm shy?
He pulled him across his lap and gave him a good swat on his backside before pulling his buttocks apart and forcing a finger up his quivering hole, laughing at the look of helpless indignation on the man's face as he kept probing him. "Squirm all you want. No-one can save you now. Is just your sweet ass 'n me." And your lordly brother, but I'll fuck him too soon enough.
He could see the other lion from the corner of his eye, using his one good hand to drag himself forward, slowly crawling towards the door. Tryin' to run. Gregor smiled, pretending not to notice, waiting until the man had reached the door before getting up and grabbing him by the ankles, effortlessly dragging him back inside on his stomach. "No runnin'."
He got himself a jug of wine from his father's solar. By the time he was back, the lion lord had almost reached the door again. Gregor took a deep sip directly from the jug, letting him crawl all the way to the hallway where the red cloaks were still sleeping before pulling him back into his father's bedchamber. "I said no runnin'."
The Lannister lord was holding on to anything he could find with his one hand, the table, the chairs, and finally, the frame of the door, but he was no match for Gregor. In the end, he lay on the floor, defeated and exhausted, frustration in his eyes.
"Tired of his this game, m'lord? Let's play another game then." Gregor picked him up and threw him onto the bed, pressing down on his chest with one hand while slapping his face with the other. "Let's play fuck the lion lords."
Gregor enjoyed seeing him writhe like a fish out of water, watching the panic in his eyes build as he struggled to breathe, but he needed him to stop trying to flee. It was beginning to annoy him. "You're worse 'n Elly, m'lord. The bitch bit me once." He tapped the gag. "You can't bite me though. No biting, no talking, and no more runnin' neither."
He sat on his father's liege lord's chest, a triumphant grin on his face, tearing up his bedrobe of heavy brocade with his bare hands and using the strips of cloth to tie his wrists to the frame. The right hand was blue and swollen, tender from the fracture, making the man wince as Gregor wrapped the cloth around it and bound him tightly.
There was a quill and a roll of parchment on the bedside table. Gregor reached for the quill and pushed it up the man's nose, wiggling it around until he started sneezing. "Looks like you caught a chill, m'lord." He kept tickling his nose and poking up his nostrils until the lion lord's face was red, his eyes swollen and teary from all the forced sneezing. You're mine now, mine to play with, nothin' you can do.
A sudden thud jolted him from his thoughts. The stout lion had rolled off the bed and bumped his head on the floor, a thin trail of blood trickling down his face as Gregor pulled him back up by his neck, shaking him.
"Runnin', fightin', kickin', worse than Elly the both of you." He pushed him onto his knees. "If you scream, I'll snap your neck," he whispered as he pulled the gag out of his mouth. But he need not have worried: the man was sobbing quietly, too terrified to move or call for help.
"I been watchin' you," Gregor told him as he stroked himself to hardness. "You always try to please your brother. Tywin Tywin, always Tywin this, Tywin that. See how you like pleasin' him now!" With that, he shoved his face down onto his brother's lap, forcing his cock into his mouth.
The kneeling man was retching and gagging, but Gregor had a firm grip in his neck, preventing him from raising his head and pulling away. "Best not bite down too hard when I fuck you, or you'll bite off your sweet brother's cock."
He spit into his hands, rubbing the saliva onto his member before digging his hands into the trembling shoulders in front of him, breathing in the scent of fear and desperation as he forced his way inside the tight hole.
He could not see the man's eyes, but he could feel him twitch and contract in panic as he kept thrusting, and he could see his father's liege lord turn his head, unable to look Gregor in the eye at last. Not so high and mighty now, he thought. Not so high an' mighty at all.
And for the first time since the damned Lannister army had set foot in Clegane's Keep, he felt fully alive again.