The Negotiation Chapter 3: Triss Merigold, an Anime X-overs + Game of Thrones Crossover fanfic

The Negotiation (Game of Throne/Multi)

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Game of Thrones nor any of the fandom doesn't belong to me. Please support the official release and owners.

Summary

As Jonoegon "Jon" Targaryen finds himself acting as the representative of the Kingdom of Westeros between the visiting nations. Read on as the White Wolf of Westeros negotiated with each of the national representatives from the Land of Tamriel to the Land of Thedas and beyond.

Chapter Summary

The Negotiation of the Witcher Pt.2:

When Triss learns of the incomprehensible fate of her two friends, she was left dumbfounded by the sight of the pregnant bellies and their strange, uncharacteristic submissiveness toward the young foreign man. Unable to comprehend the thought of why her two strong-willed and headstrong acted in such an extremely uncharacteristic manner with him…until she meets said the man in question and realized the man exuded such raw domineering charisma, forceful confident attitude, and overwhelming magical potency that was catnip to her refined magical senses that she all but succumb to his masculine wiles, adding another magical slut to his conquest.

Theme

Dom/Sub, Breeding, Mild-Brainwashing, Power Play, Slutty Sex, Rough Sex, Fucked Silly, Mind-Break, Older Woman/Younger Man

The Negotiation (Game of Throne/Multi)

Chapter Two: Triss Merigold (Witcher)

Sitting on her comfortable chair with a fireplace nearby, one leg crossed over the other and a glass of Toussaint Red wine in hand, Triss Merigold one of the mage representatives under the reign of Queen Adda the White of Northern Kingdom of Temeria reflects upon the illicit knowledge she had learn over fortnight. Ciri was a strong-willed and willful child with an iron will and a stubborn streak that remind her of her ex-lover Geralt of Rivia and Yennefer was quite an imperious woman who won't bow to no men or women out of unrelenting pride and intense assurance of her self-worth in the world.

She respects those traits in her two friends. Even she envies their iron-willed determination and incredible assurance while she deals with her self-esteem and doubt in herself and her place in the world despite her incredible achievements and abilities in the esoteric art of mysticism and the cutthroat game of politics. It doesn't mean she loath them or anything of the sort as her respect outweighs her envy toward them.

Which made it hard for her to comprehend the illicit, unimaginable knowledge she learn about her two friends. Never in all of her long-lived years, she would think Ciri and Yennefer, strong-willed and willful women got themselves pregnant, begotten from the seed of the visiting outsider from the Kingdom of Westeros, or how the two act like pair of braindead, sex-crazed whores eagerly wiggling their big fat butt and degrade themselves for the depraved man pleasure by the simple snap of his fingers as if he sees them little more than pair of well-trained bitches.

Needless to say, Triss was appalled and dumbfounded by the strange, perverted, uncharacteristic behavior of Ciri and Yennefer. Her razor-sharp, calculating mind trying to understand what she just learn or how to handle the knowledge of the depravity of her once strong-willed and willful turned submissive and slavish friends. Sure, the outsider was a tall, dark-haired, gray-eyed, well-muscled, and handsome youth with well-endowed manhood and seems quite skilled in carnal arts, but she couldn't understand in her life how that turn them into slutty, braindead sex slaves to the young, dark-haired, comely Westeroi outsider.

She was certain the youth didn't use any arcane magic to usurp their will and perverted them into being his slutty submissive sluts. As her spies within the Imperial Palace told her while he has magic but doesn't display no overt brainwashing magic that could potentially subvert and corrupt the will and mind of the human. Though the potential of him having an unknown, never-before-seen magic that she never knew about is still on her mind and something she had to be on watch for or she ended in the same fate as her two close friends.

And she will not let herself be reduced into a mewling braindead bimbo enslaved to the perverted urge of the young outsider. Though, she as she took a small, delicate sip of her rich, sweet-tasting Toussaint Red wine, she send a silent apology to her Queen, the charming if childish-minded Queen of the Northern Kingdom of Temeria for going behind her back for her self-serving political machinations and agenda.

A series of hard, rapid knocks brought her from her thoughts as she turned her beautiful green eyes to the door with a smile on her soft, heart-shaped, red-colored kissable lips as she knew who was behind the door.

"Do come in, Prince Targaryen." She said in a soft authoritative tone of voice in her beautiful, velvety-sounding voice.

A brief but potent moment of silence lurked in the room, but it was broken as briefly as it came as the door opened and a tall broad-shouldered masculine figure stepped inside the room with casual air of confidence and coolness. The dark, wolfish gaze of the young man stared at her with a unperturbed, yet fierce stoicism on his young, comely, bearded visage.

The honorable but lecherous man who had done the impossible and KNOCKED up both Ciri and Yennefer who shouldn't even get impregnated no doubt to her magically barren womb but against all odds and logic got herself impregnated with the natural-born bastard from the young foreigner who stood in her room with his hands in his pockets as he gazed into her green orbs with a deep, observant gaze in his dark, exotic orbs.

Outward, Triss Merigold, Lodge of Sorceress's representative under the reign of Queen Adda the White of Temeria was calm and serene with a beatific smile and confident gaze swirling within her bright green eyes and red-colored lips. Inward, her heart was aflutter like that of a pure-hearted virgin maiden and the famed sorceress cannot understand why she was feeling like this, not even Geralt with his rugged good looks, his gruff masculine attitude, and his down-to-earth charm didn't make her feel this way before as Dragonwolf Prince of Westeros took a step forward with the calm, stoic expression of sternness and confidence fastened on his face.

His very presence and daunting gaze seems to inspire a strong, unwholesome sensation that made her heart. And it took every bit of her willpower and self-control not to whimper and blush at his presence as if she was a silly little maiden fallen.

"It seems like an odd time to talk, My Lady," Jon said, lifting a brow as he took his hands out of his pocket to fold his strong arms over his wide, broad-muscled chest. Triss tried to keep a cool head and control the unwholesome sensation filling her mind and soul as he strode close to her step by step with slow, lethargic movements that remind her of the crafty and calculating predation of a fiery, fearsome predator on a hunt.

"Mayhap, Prince Targaryen," She said, licking her ruby lips, a nervous habit she never truly get rid of. "But I believe it the best time to talk in private without letting our duties as nobles and representatives to our home interrupt us."

The dark orb from the Son of Ice and Fire looks at her with a peering gaze. "Indeed." He stated in a direct tone. His deep, gruff-spoken baritone voice and casual, thick-accented speech oozed with icy, collected charisma and strength. "My duties to My Queen and her domain are great and important to me, but I do like to take the time to ease in relaxation in my downtime." He finished with a slight smile to his otherwise serious, brooding stoicism.

Triss very well knew what he was talking about. The memory of her two pregnant friends getting fucked hard and relentless by the long, thick, horse-length manhood until they are reduced to screaming, eye-rolling, cum-filled mess. The vividity of the memory made her womanhood ache from the sheer contact sensation, and her mind conjured up the image of herself pregnant and collared, licking the black-haired youth mammoth cock with Ciri and Yennnefer slurping on the heavy, low-hanging nuts with an whorish, adoring expression of delight and pleasure.

'Calm your heart!' She screamed inside her mind. 'The man's using whatever arcane means to make you think this way! Don't succumb to this perverted temptation!'

She tried to reassure herself of the notion as she gave the raven-haired man a beautiful smile on her ruby lips. "Indeed. I do take the time to indulge myself in frivolous activities to dispel the stress away if I don't want to be overwhelmed with stressful emotions and sensations in my personal and professional life." She said to Jon. Her vivid green eyes honed on the dark, intense eyes of an enchantingly handsome man.

"Those are some good words to say Lady Merigold," The Prince of Westeros replied with calmness in his deep, strong baritone voice. "And I like to live by your words of yours, My Lady Merigold." Now the giant of a man was close to her. Close enough to taste and smell his overwhelming presence and the forceful pressure he exuded. Giving off the impression he was both fire and ice in human flesh with unimaginable air of power and domination of that of an apex predator of the skies, the king of all beasts, the symbol of glorious destruction.

A prideful and aggressive but charismatic red dragon with the sharp and cunning wits of the mythical direwolf species. And the Temerian sorceress glanced at the dark eyes attached to the strong, handsome face. Seeing the cold, calm but intense, burning emotion that swirls within the draconian, wolf-like eyes that didn't look human enough. Rather it feel like she was staring into the peering, calculating gaze of an animal waiting for the right moment to prance and devour her with wild, impetuous, voracious abandonment.

And she cannot tell in her very life of the thought filled her with a deep sense of dread or excitement of the man sate his lust for carnality, to claim her as his own and impregnate her with the iron-hardened determination to conquer and breed her like she wasn't a beautiful and famed sorceress of Temeria, but a simpering, glass-eyed, fertile wench he claims as his property by the old, barbaric right of might and conquest.

Licking her lips, the flustered woman took a sip of her wine to cool down the burning fire in her gut as the strange presence of the man was deeply affecting her wits, making her think such outlandish and unbelievable thoughts. As she was about to cast a subtle spell to ward off whatever wicked arcane magic he was using upon her and get the situation under her control and not to the tall, young handsome hunk of a man.

…but the great, powerful hand now resting with idleness on her slim shoulder stopped her impromptu action as she shuddered at the rough texture of his massive, bear-like hand touching her soft, smooth pale skin. She looked up at Jon's face with a sharp look to her perfect, heart-shaped visage, green eyes blazing with power, confidence, and determination…

…until found her eyes looked into the calm yet fierce look on his young, chiseled face that took away all of the power, confidence, and determination in her with laughable ease and replaced with weakness, insecurity, and submission.

"My P-Prince…" She said in a low whisper.

He smiled. A cutting smile that figuratively shows rows of his large, wolf-like fangs.

"You may call me Jon as all of my friends do when we are alone." He implored with an air of calmness. His daunting gaze burned into her green orbs with an overwhelming force of intimidation and domination that had her very soul shuddering from the dark gaze alone. "Go on, Triss. Speak of my name with your sweet, beautiful voice. Call me Jon." He said to Triss, in a cool and authoritative tone of voice, that oozes with indomitable force of order and strength.

Triss heard the incredible pressure not in his deep baritone voice but in his impressive presence and his iron-willed attitude that was both compelling and intimidating yet sensual to her heart and soul, far more powerful and masculine and primal than Geralt…and she was slowly falling into a pit she cannot find the wits or strength to escape from.

"...Jon." She said in a soft muted voice. Unable to believe how soft and weak and simpering her voice was. Unable to believe her strong and confident voice turned meek like a mouse as she shudder and shiver under the incredibly powerful and magnetic pressure that hit her with the clashing sea waves against her once-formidable mind.

His cutting smile grew sharper, darker, deadlier. A certain glint in his strong, piercing black-colored gray eyes as he moved his rough hand from her shoulder to under her slim chin with a subtle but ominous touch in the tip of his long, muscular fingers.

"Good girl." He said to the beautiful redhead sorceress in a calm, soothing yet ice-cold menacing tone of voice. "I do so like the way you say my name in your rich, exotic voice, Triss. Rich with smoothness and timbre." Triss felt her cheeks turn reddish-pink at the smooth compliment from the sable-haired, silver-tongued devil of a man. "I do pray to the Old Gods that you speak with my name with the sound of your rich, exotic-tongued voice."

Even a deaf, lackwit person could have heard the salacious undertone in those words carried. The lust and dominance ooze out of the coal-haired youth's gruff, growling baritone was spine-tingling and soul binding to the red-haired beauty.

"Now…" Jon tilted her head to face him. "...Tell me why you've summoned me to your chamber late at night? Lie to me. I will leave." His low voice was soft yet forceful, eyes burned into her red-colored face. "But be true to me…I let you ponder on what your mind conjures up, Triss."

Now, she was taken back by the casual demand from Jon, Triss flushed with embarrassment and arousal, as she looked at the man and debated whether or not to tell the man of her intentions toward him and the political schemes..but in the end, the head-turning redhead beauty didn't have much of a choice as she likes to think as the strange charisma and irresistible presence he exuded was affecting her mind and making her slowly submit to the strong-willed, handsome, charismatic and dominating warrior prince.

She looks straight into the mesmerizing black pools. Seeing the sheer intimidatingly beauty within in the dark, black-colored gray pools from the big, strong, broad-shouldered, and hulking giant wolf-like of a man. And then she opened her mouth to speak the truth, nothing but the truth to the raven-haired half-Valyrian Northman.

…

After ten minutes of telling the truth to Jon. It was oddly refreshing and exhilarating to stand without her risque but elegant dress, naked the day of her name-day with an attractive stud of a man who was naked the day he was born. Her smoky green eyes admired the large, muscle-bound, battle-hardened physique and right down to his fat, massive, vein-riddled, throbbing cock that throb with the primordial urge to dominate and fuck anyone willing hole until it submit to its forceful, bullish sexual dominance.

The black-haired, raven-eyed, brawny Adonis of a man exuded an aura of stud-like dominance and manliness so strong and fierce that it made her womanhood moisten and ached to a near-painful degree as she look at the man with a simpering look as she kneeled before the large, broad-shouldered hunk of a man.

"Open." Ordered Jon. His deep, strong baritone was filled with a commanding and gruff-spoken timbre.

The legendary Temerian sorceress of the 13th century obeyed without question, as she opened her mouth nice and wide, tongue hanging out like a bitch in heat. A small dribble of drool falls to the beautiful-crafted floor. Ready to receive the horse-length cock into her gullet like the good little sorceress slut.

"Good girl." He growled softly. Slapping her face with his massive, meaty schlong across her pretty, dolled-up face. Letting her feel and smell the sheer smoldering heat and strong, musky scent of his fearsome, meaty claymore. "Now…suck it, cunt." His massive, rugged hand rested easily on the beautiful red lock.

A powerful explosion of pleasure goes through the buxom, voluptuous, curvaceous redhead beauty like wildfire from the domineering attitude and the degrading words he has spoken to her with calm confidence as she leaned forward and gobbled half of the meaty cock down her throat, gagging slightly from the massive intrusion into her neck. Triss eyes couldn't help but watered up at the thick item in her throat, or stopped her cunt from getting, even more wetter by the second than before. As she chokes and gags onto the arm-thick cock into her slim, tight throat-pussy as the massive, bull-sized, broad-shouldered stud moves his cock in and out of her mouth-cunt.