Fate had a funny way of ultimately getting it's due. So did destiny. Or maybe it was more accurate to say that a man consumed by his need for vengeance like Oberyn Martell was always going to find a way to get what he wanted. By taking Shae and breaking her with his big fat cock, by hiding her away while Tyrion's trial progressed, in the end Podrick Payne had served his Lord as best he could, leading to the dwarf being sent to the Wall instead of executed. As a result of this, Tyrion never had to call for Trial by Combat, and Oberyn never had a chance to offer to be his Champion in such an endeavor.
At the same time however, Podrick's 'Royal Experience' gave the Red Viper another opportunity. After his experience with the two regal whores, it didn't take long for Oberyn to spread word of their existence to a few… trusted friends. In just a few months, the exclusive deal that only Podrick's best brothel offered had become quite the major hit, as wealthy patron after wealthy patron had clamored over getting to take part in the depraved scenario of fucking the Royal Queens' look-a-likes.
None of these wealthy patrons knew the truth, of course, and by this point, Cersei and Margaery had been fucked in every position imaginable by every sort of noblewoman and rich merchant and landed knight that could get in to see them. The most interesting man to experience Podrick's Royal Experience, next to Oberyn Martell of course… was Mace Tyrell himself. Though to the Lord of Highgarden's credit, he had refrained from fucking the whore playing his daughter, merely unknowingly ordering Margaery to finger herself and watch as he finally put the bitchy lioness Cersei Lannister in her place.
His words, not Podrick's. Regardless, that was a bit of entirely juicy blackmail that would one day come back to bite Lord Tyrell in the ass, that much was for certain. The amount of concessions that Podrick could get out of a weak man like Mace Tyrell while hanging such debauchery over the Lord's head… it was dizzying to think about.
Though, in one way, Mace proved to be strong. Namely, he was juuust smart enough not to TELL anyone what he'd done. Or maybe he was simply too ashamed, given the presence of his would-be daughter who was in truth actually his daughter. Regardless, unlike Mace, almost every other customer who got to partake in the Royal Experience ended up blabbing about it. This was a great source of advertisement and marketing, to be fair… but it also meant that word got to the ear of Lord Tywin Lannister sooner, rather than later.
As a result, the Royal Experience became distinctly disconnected from any one brothel or stationary building. It became a roaming act, in which Podrick and his regal whore-queens would make plans to meet with their customers in a different location, every single time. This was helped on by the fact that, despite being an incredibly sharp and altogether intelligent man… Tywin Lannister had made a mistake. Lord Lannister knew how to delegate. Which meant, when he heard the rumors of this… Royal Experience, he'd dolled out tasks to two of his family. Kevan Lannister, his brother and trusted second, was put in charge of hunting down the men bragging about bedding the Queen Mother and punishing them most severely.
Cersei Lannister, meanwhile, was the one put in charge of the overall investigation into just which brothel owner was offering such an experience. Oh sure, it was really the Gold Cloaks who were supposed to be conducting the investigation, but Tywin didn't trust anyone save for his own blood, not truly… and thus Cersei was tasked with helming the inquest into her own depraved actions.
Needless to say, the Lannister Lioness was far too broken at this point to use this in any way to save herself. Instead, she found herself capitulating to her Master and his big, fat cock time and time again, working to save Podrick from the Gold Cloaks whenever they got too close, or even the handful of times they tried to plan a trap, sending in a plant to attempt to arrange for a 'Royal Experience' of their own so that they could catch the royal whores and their pimp in one fell swoop.
Thanks to Podrick's woman on the inside, and the fact that he'd fully disconnected the Royal Experience from any one brothel, the Gold Cloaks were no closer to finding out just who was behind the debauched roleplay. On the other hand, Kevan Lannister had approached the task his older brother had given him with uncharacteristic zealous. Perhaps his Knightly Honor was offended by the bragging done by those who had gotten a taste of the Royal Experience.
Regardless, whether they were lords, merchants, or knights, Kevan Lannister saw that they faced justice, even the slightest mention of their time with the whore-queens resulting in very violent and very public punishments. This state of affairs continued for months… until, of course, rumors began to abound that Oberyn Martell had gotten there first. The Prince of Dorne was said to have been the Royal Experience's first customer… but unfortunately, he was untouchable.
After all, despite the fact that he was in fact the one who started the rumors, no matter how hard Kevan tried, he couldn't trace the bragging back to Oberyn himself. As far as the Lannister Lord was concerned, Oberyn Martell wasn't the one saying these things, it was others trying to defame him. When he took this to his brother, however, Tywin knew better right off the bat.
In the end, without a Tyrion or a Trial by Combat, Oberyn Martell ended up facing down Gregor Clegane in the next tournament, in the melee, of all things. Both the Red Viper and the Mountain That Rides went into that Melee with only one thing on their mind… the death of the other. Tywin had given Gregor his orders earlier that morning, to avenge the dignity of Cersei at all costs. Oberyn, meanwhile, had been waiting for an opportunity like this for AGES.
There were lots of differences between this Melee and the Trial by Combat that could have been, however. For one, Lord Lannister was not so foolish as to only send one big, lumbering assassin after Oberyn Martell. But of course, the Red Viper was nothing if not wily, and by the time he and Gregor faced off, many disguised Lannister men lay dead in the dirt around him, most of them through throat wounds perpetrated by his spear.
But for another… Oberyn's mistress was not there. Her absence was none more keenly felt then by Oberyn himself, and even as he and the Mountain circled each other as the last two participants in the Melee, everyone around them watching with bated breath, he was contemplating her. While he loved Ellaria with all his heart and had no desire to ever cage her or break her free spirit… the amount of time and gold that his lover had begun spending in Podrick Payne's brothel was… becoming extravagant, to say the least.
Even as he firms up his determination to fight and defeat the Mountain, even as he pushes forward with the fight, Oberyn resolves to have a talk with Ellaria about the changes she's gone through since their time in Pod's Brothel. Just as soon as he avenges his sister and her children. Of course, things very rarely go the way we want them to.
Just as it would have been in another time, in another place, Oberyn reminds Gregor of his crimes. He makes it his mantra. Eventually, Oberyn sends the Mountain tumbling onto his back, the poison on his spear tip doing what swords and arrows and other weapons had never been able to do to Gregor Clegane. It brings the giant of a man DOWN.
This was why every man who'd come after Oberyn in the Melee had had to die. Because if he'd given them simple nicks with his spear and sent them scurrying on their way, the poison would have been discovered too early. Of course, as he would have done in a certain Trial by Combat that would now never take place, Oberyn lets his hubris take ahold of him. He gets too close to what he's sure is a defeated foe.
He'll never get to have that talk with Ellaria about her excesses, because even dying by poison, the Mountain That Rides has enough monstrous strength left in him to pull Oberyn down, pin him to the ground, and pop his skull like a grapefruit with his thumbs, via way of the man's eye sockets, all while reaffirming Oberyn's accusations, admitting what he'd done that day to Oberyn's sister and children.
It's an absolutely grotesque affair… and one that Ellaria isn't even there for. Instead, the Dornish Woman is halfway across the city, preoccupied with her months-long fascination with Podrick's cock.
"Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!"
As Ellaria chokes herself on his member, Podrick grins down at her, one hand in her hair, holding it fast as he guides her back and forth, merely helping her with deep-throating his big, fat, bitch breaker of a prick. She's doing most of the work right now, despite the fact that it was she who was paying HIM for HIS services.
He'd been a little bit… embarrassed at realizing just how easily he'd broken Ellaria Sand, that first day. Truly, he hadn't meant to steal the Red Viper's Mistress right out from under him. Luckily, Oberyn either hadn't noticed… or more likely, simply didn't care. It was obvious from the Prince's enjoyment of Cersei and Margaery that he and Ellaria were used to indulging themselves in intimate acts that didn't always involve the other. Theirs was a debauched relationship, to be sure, and a very open one at that.
But Podrick Payne hadn't just satisfied Ellaria's needs while her lover had thoroughly enjoyed the Royal Experience. He'd accidentally broken her on his cock, addicting her to his member, and resizing her cunt more effectively than even the births of her many daughters had. Ever since then, Ellaria's days had revolved around spending her time in Pod's whorehouse, spending her paramour's gold on his excellent services as he fucks her in every hole, as he plows her in every position she could ask for.
Needless to say, Podrick was now a very rich man. With the gold from how many times he's sold Cersei and Margaery as the Royal Experienced, combined with how Ellaria has lined his coffers with Oberyn's coin… well, he could easily retire right now and live off of what he had for the rest of his days quite comfortably, if he wanted to. It was a stark look at what made men like Littlefinger tick, Podrick was quickly finding. He could easily see how a man with as small of a heart and soul as Petyr Baelish might fall in love with coin, might stop at nothing to grow his financial empire, to build a hoard of shinies to replace the emptiness inside of him.
Podrick wasn't like that. He didn't need any of it, didn't care for his sudden riches… but he still accrued them, still made sure that he was not cheated, still squirreled away every gold dragon he could. Because one day, he intended to use it all. On what, Pod couldn't even say quite yet. He was still a young man, still a squire, and his training in the ways of the world… it'd never been completed. Managing a brothel and turning two Queens and two whores into his own personal cock sleeves was definitely opening his mind to the possibilities, however.
One day, he would need the gold that he was currently gathering up. Whether it would be to fix this broken realm, or for some other reason, he couldn't say. For now, though… for now, Podrick was simply face fucking Ellaria Sand to her heart's content, forcing her to deep-throat his cock as she desperately wanted him to, in exchange for her coin. As he buries her face in his crotch, forcing her lips all the way to the base of his massive member and forcing his cockhead all the way into her gullet, neither of them is aware of what's taken place at the tournament halfway across the city.
Both are too busy in the throes of ecstasy, Podrick groaning and tossing his head back as he begins to cum, and Ellaria gagging, gurgling, and choking on his seed even as her fingers in her sopping wet cunt bring her to an explosive climax at the exact same time, sending her eyes rolling back in her skull while white, hot cum explodes out of her flaring nostrils.
It's only a matter of time though, in the end…
-x-X-x-
At first, Cersei had almost been eager to see Ellaria again and gloat over her paramour's death. Sure, the loss of the Mountain was regrettable, but there was a certain vicious satisfaction in seeing Oberyn Martell die. He'd been the only man inside of her besides Podrick for a long, long time, and he'd thoroughly enjoyed disgracing and humiliating her, despite not knowing who she truly was.
It was probably contradictory, given that Cersei ENJOYED when Podrick humiliated and degraded and utterly destroyed her, to the extent that she'd been hiding him from her father, her uncle, and the Gold Cloaks alike for months now. But Oberyn… Oberyn had no right. Just as the other men that Podrick had sold her and Margaery to had no right to treat them the way that they did. Yes, there was definitely a contradiction of thought there. Cersei didn't seek retribution for Podrick selling the two of them as little more than whores… and yet, she thoroughly enjoyed every instance of her Uncle Kevan doling out vicious punishment to the men that purchased her and Margaery.
Regardless, before Cersei could so much as make her way to her Master's Brothel to gloat in Ellaria's face over Oberyn's death, news of the Red Viper's demise reached Dorne by raven. And a day later, Cersei received her daughter's necklace, courtesy of the Sand Snakes in response. The feeling of jubilation over Oberyn Martell's death was, needless to say, thoroughly quashed by this occurrence.
Rushing over to her Master's Brothel, shame filling her body and red filling her cheeks at the thought of the place feeling almost like a second home to her, Cersei Lannister barges into her owner's chambers in short order, for a moment at least acting like the Regal, Wrathful Queen of old that she'd once been.
"My daughter! You Dornish BITCH, you will NOT let them touch my daughter! You will-!"
Her tirade lasts right up until Podrick shuts her down with a pointed glare and a snap of his fingers. Before even making her way to the brothel, Cersei had changed out of her royal dresses and into the rich near-see through silks of a high-class whore. She had a small room deep in the bowels of the Red Keep set aside for such a thing, and her own secret passage that allowed her to exit the Red Keep unnoticed and make her way into King's Landing proper. Needless to say, on her way here, she'd been groped by several different people, though thanks to her mask, none of them knew who she was.
Regardless, at the snap of his fingers, Cersei Lannister is reminded of who and what she is now, and who she belongs to. She's reminded of her new station in life. Lowering herself to her knees, still thrumming with worry for her daughter but also knowing better than to disobey, Cersei lifts her ass high into the air and presses her forehead against the stone floor, bowing at the entrance to her owner's chambers with her long, golden tresses hiding the expression of shame and fear and filthy arousal on her face. The shame was partially from realizing that she barged in unannounced and partially from realizing how truly low of a fate the Seven had punished her with.
Meanwhile, behind Cersei, Margaery follows suit, having come with the Queen Mother from the Red Keep, the two of them having changed into their more whorish outfits together, slipping on their masks and making their way to Podrick's Brothel at the same time. The younger woman, the Would-Be Queen, is perfectly composed as she calmly follows suit right alongside Cersei, kneeling down, sticking her ass up in the air, and pressing her forehead to the ground in subservience to their Master. Inwardly though, Margaery is smirking at the Queen Mother's stupidity. Judging by the look or lack thereof on Podrick's expressionless face, this punishment was sure to be… legendary.
-x-X-x-
Podrick does listen to Cersei's grievances of course. He listens to her explain about her worry for her daughter, through her shrieks of pain and pleasure as Margaery brings a cat o' nine tails down on her exposed, vulnerable clit, time and time again. After letting his two whore-queens supplicate themselves before him for a time, after watching them grovel as he continued to fuck Ellaria into the bed, Podrick had eventually barked out orders.
Shae had shown up quickly enough with the things he'd called for, namely the cat o' nine tails… and a massive smooth stone replica of Podrick's big fat cock, sculpted to be exactly like his member, though obviously they couldn't truly replicate how it felt to be fucked by the young man's bitch breaker.
Regardless, at his command, Cersei had stripped out of her silks and exposed her MILF body to his eyes. The only thing she'd kept on was the mask, not that she needed it under these circumstances. By now, Ellaria knew exactly who Cersei and Margaery REALLY were… it was a mark of her broken loyalties to her paramour that she'd never bothered telling him.
Currently, the Queen Mother was in a standing spread, her arms clasped behind her back and her chest jutting out in one direction as her ass jutted out in the other. She was slightly bent forward, but not fully bent over. This allowed Margaery to hit her front with the cat o' nine tails, raking the ends of the vicious torture implement across Cersei's nipples and clit over and over again, trading between her breasts and pussy as she liked. It was obvious that the Would-Be Queen absolutely adored punishing her fellow royalty.
Shae, meanwhile, was using the stone replica of Podrick's cock on Cersei's ass, the cold rock lubed up with warm oil and then thrust forward into the Queen Mother's rectum, spreading her anus nice and wide and filling her bowels with stone as the Brothel Madam pushed the toy in and out of the disgraced Queen again and again.
It was through this debauchery that Cersei told Podrick everything. In truth, he'd already heard about Oberyn's death, of course. But he'd not told Ellaria yet… the Dornish Woman still didn't know, even now. She wasn't even listening to what Cersei was actually saying, too busy laying there face down, ass up, catatonic beneath Podrick as he piledrives into her from above again and again and again.
Cersei's worry for her daughter is understandable, to be fair. And what little Podrick knows of dear Myrcella, he's pretty sure the young woman doesn't deserve death. Though… she's still her mother's daughter, so she probably shouldn't be in a position of power either. As Cersei finishes explaining herself, as she recounts Oberyn's death and then the necklace of Myrcella's that she'd received from Dorne just that day, Podrick hums for a moment in contemplation.
Having nothing left to say, all Cersei can do is continue to scream and squeal in pain, her legs spread wide and trembling as she stands there in her high heels and nothing else, getting smacked around by the cat o' nine tails in the front, and getting relentlessly butt-fucked by the stone dildo in the back. Her cries are music to Podrick's ears truth be told, but he knows he has to get a move on. Ellaria Sand… has just overstayed her welcome.
Pulling out of the insensate Dornish Woman, Podrick snorts derisively as he reaches down and grabs Ellaria by her hair. For being such a creature of debauchery, for being a sex bomb of epic proportions… she really couldn't handle him for long. But then, no woman really could, in the end. How long had this latest fuck session be? Had he been fucking her all day? It had at least been several hours.
Regardless, Podrick goes right ahead and slaps Ellaria across the face with his free hand, even as he holds her up by her hair. However, the only effect that this has is to make the insensate woman moan wantonly and wiggle and writhe in his grip, senselessly offering her body to him completely without conscious thought.
Rolling his eyes, Podrick reaches over and grabs the pitcher of ice water on the nightstand. It's only a quarter of the way full at this point, which in itself is a good indication of how long they've been going. Still, there's a handful of ice cubes left in the pitcher, which at the start had actually BEEN ninety percent ice and only ten percent water. The water, therefore, is still very cold when Podrick pours the remaining liquid within the pitcher all over Ellaria's face, hair, and upper body, shocking her system back into action and bringing the woman back to the land of the living, even as the cold sensation makes her nipples stand on end even more than they already were.
As the naked and now wet Dornish Woman sputters and looks up at him with wide, confused eyes, Podrick just gives her a shrug and a pitying smile.
"It seems that Oberyn Martell is dead. Killed by the Mountain That Ride, though reports say he took the Mountain with him, in the end. Still… as of right now, without the Red Viper's coin, you can no longer afford the services of this brothel. I'm going to have to ask you to leave, as these rooms are for paying customers only."
Ellaria's eyes widen in dismay at hearing this, but not once does she shed a single tear for her dead paramour. Instead, the Dornish Woman clings to Podrick, grabbing his legs and trying to pull herself up his body. This has the added side effect of tucking his massive cock between her breasts as she looks at him with wide, soulful eyes.
"P-Please, n-no! Don't… d-don't throw me out, I b-beg of you! I can… I can work! Put me to work here, for you, and I'll do whatever you ask of me! I'll fuck and suck whoever you like, whenever you like, so long as you don't cut me off from this glorious, glorious cock!"
Even through all of her pain and punishment on the other side of the room, Cersei is drinking in the sight of Ellaria debasing herself at Podrick's feet. Even as she cries out, squealing in pain and pleasure both, she's staring at the sight. An actual grin stretches across the Queen Mother's face when Podrick shakes his head.
"Unfortunately, that won't really be enough. You aren't as young as you used to be, Ellaria. You're a bit used up at this point… just like Cersei."
Podrick had not failed to notice Cersei's glee at Ellaria's suffering. The insult tacked on at the end, directed towards the Queen Mother, hits home and leaves her reddening in shame. Ellaria, meanwhile, grows more and more desperate by the moment, until finally…
"T-The Sand Snakes! I c-can give you the Sand Snakes! Oberyn's daughters, all of them can be yours! My three youngest aren't quite of age yet, but when they are, they will belong to you as well, sir! Please, please j-just don't throw me away!"
She's rubbing against his cock now, even as she hugs him around the waist, pleading up at him, begging him, not an ounce of pride remaining in the Dornish Woman, despite the fact that she'd started out with so much of her particular brand of the stuff. But then, the fact that she was willing to offer up her dead paramour's daughters, both those that she'd given birth to and those that she hadn't, spoke volumes of just how far Ellaria had fallen. Not that any woman in the room was all that surprised, given their firsthand experience with Podrick Payne's bitch breaker of a cock.
However, for her to go so far as to offer her own daughters… that shocks the other women in the room, at least for a moment. Podrick, meanwhile, just stares down at Ellaria, imperious as ever in his visible contempt.
"How will you secure the Sand Snakes that aren't yours? Your daughters might listen to their mother, or they might not on account of their father's rebellious blood. But Oberyn's two eldest are not beholden to you, now are they? So… how can you offer them up to me?"
Ellaria licks her lips and whimpers, but from the tentative smile on her face, it's obvious she's already put some thought into this. Whether she JUST put some thought into it or whether she'd been thinking about selling Oberyn's daughters to Podrick for more of his cock for a while now, no one could really say…
"With your help, of course… my Master. You've opened my eyes to true pleasure, these last few months. You've broken me down, brought me back to my roots. I am yours, wholly and utterly… and even Obara and Nymeria will put down their weapons and turn to worshipping your meat spear if they are only given a taste of it. I can set up the meeting… and you can break them as thoroughly as you broke me."
Her submission is clear as day to everyone in the room. Her begging is heard, loud and clear. Her capitulation is very clearly sincere. Still, Podrick makes her sweat for several moments, before finally allowing a smile to grace his face. It's not a nice smile by any means, and it certainly doesn't reach his eyes as he stares down at Ellaria, while at the same time snapping his fingers towards Shae.
"I accept your offer, Ellaria Sand. Shae, fetch the necessary implements to secure our newest contract, and introduce this worn out whore to my service, won't you?"
Shae sinks the stone replica of Podrick's cock into Cersei's asshole one last time, making sure its snug and tight in there, nice and deep. Once she's done so, she pulls away from the helpless Queen Mother, leaving only Margaery seeing to Cersei's punishment as the Brothel Madam bows low to her Master and then heads out the door for a moment.
Podrick, meanwhile, yanks himself free of Ellaria's clinging clutches, leaving the Dornish Woman to whimper and whine in disappointment. However, when she tries to follow him, he gives her a simple look that shuts her down immediately, leaving her kneeling on the bed, just watching as Podrick takes his big fat cock and makes his way over to where Cersei is stood.
"Focus on her tits for me now, bitch."
The casual order to Margaery is immediately followed, of course, the cat o' nine tails coming down on the Queen Mother's breasts quite harshly, leaving them redder and redder as Cersei cries out in pain. Her cries are only interrupted when Podrick takes hold of her hips and sinks his big, fat cock into her pussy from behind, finding her to be extremely wet despite all of the pain and agony and degradation she's gone through so far.
As he sinks into Cersei's sopping folds, Shae walks back into the room. She doesn't have paper or a quill, she doesn't have anything that any normal person would consider a contract… instead, the Brothel Madam is carrying a white-hot branding iron, shaped into the heraldry of the House of Payne. When Ellaria sees what's coming for her, the Dornish Woman's eyes widen in momentary fear.
That's no surprise though… the House of Payne's sigil is a bit much for a brand, truth be told. A checkered purple and white field, with coins in the white checks. Of course, there's no colors on the branding iron, so its really just a series of raised circles and raised squares. Still, in the face of never getting to experience Podrick Payne's prick again, Ellaria's fear is fleeting at best. Even before Shae can make it across the room, the Dornish Whore is slinking off of the bed and onto her hands and knees.
When Shae arrives, she barely even has to bend Ellaria over, the willing woman already mostly in position. As such, Shae is able to simply bring the branding iron to bear on Ellaria's lower back, and press the sigil of House Payne into her flesh, searing Podrick's Heraldry into her body and marking her form permanently with HIS signature.
As this happens, as Shae is branding Ellaria and setting in stone her enslavement to Podrick, marking her as the property of 'Lord' Payne, even if he's not yet a lord, Pod is thrusting in and out of Cersei from behind, holding her by the hips and plowing her faster and harder by the moment, even as Margaery continues to whip her breasts. After a moment though, he looks past Cersei and makes eye contact with the Would-Be Queen.
"Enough. Attend to us."
Margaery doesn't need to be told twice. She's all too eager to serve at this point, the younger woman breaking just as effectively as Cersei, Ellaria, and Shae all had. She'd had so many plans for her future, so many things she intended to make happen. But all of that pales in comparison to Podrick Payne's bitch breaker of a cock.
The Tyrell girl wants nothing more than to be his nasty little whorish cum dump for the rest of her life now, the young woman still impressionable enough to have her head fully emptied out and replaced by nothing but a desire for Pod's prick. As such, she drops the cat o' nine tails to the side and falls to her knees without complaint, eagerly positioning herself between Cersei's legs to lick feverishly at the Lannister's clit and their Master's pistoning prick.
As Ellaria's squealing screams fill the room, Podrick leans in close and whispers in Cersei's ear, his words no more than a murmur, even as they pound through her skull.
"I'll do as Ellaria asks of me. I'll go to Dorne to claim my new property personally… and I'll see to the safety of Princess Myrcella at the same time, for you."
Cersei shivers and trembles, feeling a sudden surge of hope and happiness, of honest-to-the-Seven GRATITUDE towards Podrick. It's a testament to how broken she is that she's glad to hear her chief tormentor and Master is going to 'look after her daughter'. The innuendo isn't lost on her… but even if it was, Podrick doesn't let it remain just innuendo for long. As he continues to plow her cunt from behind, all while her anus is clenching down on the stone replica of his prick, leaving her double-stuffed in both of her lower orifices, Podrick runs a thumb over Cersei's own brand, smack dab in the middle of one of her fat, jiggling butt cheeks.
"However… there will be a price to pay for my protection, whore."
Whimpering, Cersei finds herself remembering the day of her own branding, even as Shae finishes Ellaria's branding on the other side of the room and pulls back, leaving the Dornish Woman to slowly deescalate from squealing screaming to soft cries and whimpers, sobbing as her burnt flesh sizzles where the new brand sits on her lower back, a permanent tramp stamp.
It had been the day that Oberyn had taken her and Margaery both. It had been after he was finished, when he and Ellaria had departed together. That first day, Ellaria had still been willing to leave with Oberyn, though she hadn't been able to resist glancing back at Podrick the entire way out of the room. She'd come back for more from the young man as soon as she was able though, swiftly cementing her place as his next fuck toy cum dump.
But regardless of Ellaria's descent into submission and slutty whorishness, that was the day that Podrick himself had pinned Cersei down. Oberyn was finished with her, but Podrick was not. He'd pinned her down, he'd fucked her… and then at the end of it all, he'd introduced her to his latest humiliation, his latest way of degrading her.
He'd pressed the white-hot brand into her ass cheek himself, conveying onto her flesh his mark, his sigil, making her into his property right then and there, and Cersei had screamed and squealed and shrieked just as loudly as Ellaria at the time. It had been the most disgraceful and shameful moment of her entire life… not least of which because, right after he finished branding her, Podrick had given her sopping wet, freshly fucked cunt a hefty smack and Cersei had orgasmed explosively in response, squirting her pussy juices and some of his creampie all over the ground, even as her pale flesh had sizzled from the branding.
Back in the present, the Queen Mother hangs her head in defeat, even as Podrick continues to fuck her, even as Ellaria's whimpers and Margaery's slurping act as fantastic background noise for the moment of total and utter desecration.
"P-Please, sir… take my daughter. M-Make her a woman… make her your whore like you've done to me."
He doesn't even have to demand it of her. It's in that moment that Cersei Lannister has well and truly broken, even as tears of shame and defeat trickle down her cheeks and off onto Margaery betwixt her thighs. Ellaria Sand has offered up all of her daughters, as well as women who aren't even of her blood to Podrick in exchange for continuing to be used by him, for continuing to get broken on his big fat cock.
Now Cersei is doing the same. Giving her own daughter to the man that raped and broke her all those months ago, that even now was fucking her mewling quim while her puckered anus clenched and squeezed around a smooth stone replica of his dick. She has never been lower, never sunk further… and poor Myrcella will undoubtedly pay for it, for all of it. Cersei's excesses, her crimes, her vindictive deeds… her daughter will suffer because Cersei turned out to be a needy whorish slutty cum dump desperate for a good dicking from Podrick Payne's bitch breaker of a cock.
The only response she gets from her Master in regard to her admission is a throaty chuckle and an increase in pace. Soon enough, Cersei's tears of shame and defeat are overwritten by tears of ecstasy as the increase in pace sends her fat bottom jiggling under the assault and her pussy walls clenching and squeezing uselessly around his pistoning cock in response. Cersei cries out and orgasms explosively as Podrick thrusts right into her womb itself, using it as some sort of meat condom, fucking her so hard and so deep that if he weren't holding onto her hips and Margaery didn't have her face right next to her crotch, she likely would have toppled over and collapsed by now.
Cersei's eyes roll up in her head, and despite how ashamed she is of herself, in the end the mind-broken Queen Mother can be nothing but happy that she did what she did. If giving up her daughter will get her this sort of pleasure and ecstasy, then Cersei will gladly give Myrcella up a thousand times more. She'll turn her baby girl into Podrick's whore, she'll help train the young lady into a slutty little cum dump herself if it means getting to experience all that Podrick has to offer. In the end… nothing of the proud woman she once was remains. All that's left is Podrick Payne's Pet… and she's all the happier for it, too.
-x-X-x-
As Margaery licks and laps and slurps at Cersei's clit, still reddened from the earlier beating it received, and their Master's big fat cock, pistoning in and out of Cersei's stretched cunt without stopping, the Tyrell girl can't help but touch herself. As was mentioned earlier, months under Podrick's… care have left her irrevocably shattered, just as much as Cersei, Shae, and now Ellaria have all been.
Unfortunately, unlike those women, Margaery is not yet branded. Oh, how she wants to be. She wants nothing more than to have her Master brand her with his sigil, with the mark of Podrick Payne. She's even fantasized about it late at night, her hands roaming her body as she contemplates where he might put it.
Cersei's went on her ass, and boy was watching the Queen Mother get branded an experience Margaery would remember for the rest of her life. The Lannister Lioness' big bubble butt was now adorned with their Master's mark, the brand resting right there upon Cersei's butt cheek. But then, Ellaria's wasn't in the same place. It was obvious that her Master and Shae had discussed the final submission of the Dornish Whore at an early point, because Podrick hadn't even had to say anything, and Margaery knew without a doubt that Shae wouldn't have placed the brand without asking him first.
The fact that the Brothel Madam hadn't hesitated to give Ellaria Sand a permanent tramp stamp spoke to it being the Master's design, all in all. Meanwhile, Shae's own brand was on her abdomen, right above her womb, front and center so that if the Brothel Madam was ever requested by a client, they would know the entire time she was riding them that she belonged to another man, not to them.
Perhaps her brand would be on her inner thigh? That would be delicious. Right next to her drooling quim, so that any man who fucked her would know that she too belonged to Podrick Payne above all else. Her Lord, her Master… alas, for now it was all fantasy. There was a very good reason that Podrick hadn't branded Margaery along with Cersei that night, after Oberyn and Ellaria had departed.
She was due to marry King Tommen soon, after all, and if he found her branded on their wedding night, well then, that would probably provoke quite the scandal. All Margaery had to do was fuck the boy king once to finally consummate one of her damn marriages and finally be Queen. Not that she cared about being Queen for her own ends anymore. Nor did she want to wear the crown for her family's sake.
Not after her father had made her watch as he committed adultery against her mother and fucked Cersei Lannister right in front of her. Margaery Tyrell might have been a broken, depraved little thing, but most of her debauched and perverse thoughts were wholly centered on Podrick Payne. Those that weren't, centered upon the punishments frequently dolled out to Cersei, and the fact that by being her Master's good little girl, Margaery usually got to help in those punishments.
But having her own father show up for the Royal Experience had been its own kind of personal hell. To say that Margaery had been disgusted in her father's disgraceful behavior that day would have been an understatement. She'd still done as she'd told, because she WAS her Master's good little girl and she would do her best to maintain that title as much as possible. Luckily for her, Mace Tyrell didn't truly want to fuck his daughter, even a supposed replica of her. He never once actually touched Margaery, even though he didn't know it was actually her, even though he thought she was just a whore roleplaying as his daughter.
But the looks he'd given her naked body as he'd fucked Cersei into the bed. The things he'd said to her and to Cersei as he plowed the Golden Lioness for all of two minutes before blowing his meager load all over Cersei's chest… it'd been enough that she'd not been able to look her father in the eye since. She avoided having anything to do with him while taking care of her duties within the Red Keep as much as possible.
In the end, Margaery Tyrell would be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. But not for herself, not for her family, and certainly not for the Lannisters. She would be Queen because it would further her Master's goals. She would be Queen, so that she could continue to serve Podrick Payne to the best of her abilities, for the rest of her life. She would become Queen… so that she might remain her Master's good little girl for that much longer.
One time. She would bed young Tommen just once, and then never again. There would be a child, of course… but it wouldn't be of Lannister blood. Having met the boy multiple times by now, Margaery knew for a fact that she could keep Tommen wrapped around her finger without actually having to fuck him, beyond that first night. If she thought she could get away with it, Margaery would go a step further and never have sex with the young King at all.
But no, consummating the marriage just in case one of the Lannister's many, many enemies assassinated Tommen was a necessity, just as was her getting pregnant as soon as possible after the wedding. In the end though, this meant that Margaery's branding would have to wait. Unfortunate, but the anticipation itself was its own aphrodisiac, truly.
As Podrick plows Cersei from behind, as Ellaria recovers from her branding, as Shae watches the proceedings, Margaery fingers herself to completion, the thought of eventually being branded by such a strong, powerful, conquering man like Podrick Payne, who could turn protective mothers like Cersei and Ellaria into amoral whores proving more than enough to make her cum all over her digits, even as she moans into Cersei's clit.
This is right where she belongs. This is where the whole world belongs… at her Master's feet, worshipping his greatness.
-x-X-x-
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