GOT: The Golden Lion

Joffrey ate a light but nutritious dinner that evening, planning to keep himself busy for the duration of the entire night with the Stark sisters. He occasionally eyed Sansa at the dinner, while she stole glances at Arya, who was clueless of the deal between her sister and the King.

Eventually, Arya left, and then Sansa left too. Joffrey didn't have many people to share the table with anyway. There was Tyrion and that was it; Tywin had already returned to Casterly Rock.

"Your Grace," Tyrion spoke up when it was just him and Joffrey there. "Might I suggest we encourage the lords to loosen their purse strings? The Crown alone cannot fund a war against the dead."

"I know that, Uncle. The crown won't be spending a penny on this war. The closer they are to the North, the more they'll pay in blood and coin. The Vale and Riverlands stand to lose the most, while the North? Ha! It's already a frozen ruin," Joffrey declared shamelessly. "Remember, we're in a two-front war. We must not only defeat the dead but also come out on top as the strongest entity in the Seven Kingdoms. Once the war is over, there will be no more Seven Kingdoms—only one, Westeros. And beyond the sea? Empire of Westeros."

"So you plan to weaken the individual kingdoms?" Asked Tyrion, not appalled but rather excited and intrigued. "I'd say you've done that already. You rule most of the realm with absolute control, but Dorne remains a challenge. Too far south to care about White Walkers, too stubborn to play the game properly."

Joffrey tiredly finished drinking the goblet of wine and stood up for the final course in the bed chamber. "Suggestions are welcome, Uncle. Oberyn is dead, but Doran lives, as do Oberyn's paramour and his bastard daughters. I need to know if they harbor ambitions and how far they would go if I… influenced their choices."

"Taking Arianne as your queen would have helped but I suppose you're done picking women after Daenerys and Sansa. Daenerys should be able to keep them in line. The Martells have always had a soft spot for Targaryens," Tyrion said.

"Hah!" Joffrey laughed mockingly, his eyes gleaming with contempt. "Arianne? That whore is no better than… Cersei… was. In any case, I shall see you tomorrow, Uncle. Make sure the arrangements for the Great Gathering are completed on time."

Joffrey left Tyrion to drink a few more cups alone. Guarded by a Kingsguard, he went to his personal bedchambers first and changed into some comfortable, easy-to-discard breeches and tunic. Then, he grabbed a tool for the night, the one he'd used on Cersei once.

After that, he headed to Sansa's bedchamber. As always, a lone Kingsguard stood outside the room, and by design, it was Val that night. It was going to be a long and loud night, after all.

"Val shall suffice. You can rest for the night." Joffrey dismissed the Kingsguard following him and walked over to his prized possession, his finest Kingsguard, tall and blonde, perfect across her shapely body. Even in her armor, she aroused men.

Val giggled deviously, aware of the sounds she was going to hear that night. "The stars have finally aligned, my King of kneelers?"

Joffrey chuckled and shrugged as he reached her. Before answering, he wrapped an arm around her armored waist and pulled her in, gifting her a deep ravenous kiss on the lips.

Lips, tongue, and drool, the whole course.

"And now I shall align my cock at their entrances."

"Hah!" Val laughed, accepting everything her conqueror willed. She never pushed him, considering it was his right over the spoils. Even if he desired to ram her against the wall and take her right then and there she'd accept. "Well, I bid you a joyful skewering then, my King. But remember, I have a surprise waiting for you too."

"Oh? The redhead?" Joffrey remembered Ygritte. The mere sight of her face ached him to plunder her.

Val chuckled and pushed Joffrey towards the door. "Yes, but let's not spoil the surprise. You should first go and tame the she-wolves."

"More like cats at this point," Joffrey said and pushed the door open.

It was dim but not dark. As he shut the door behind he let his eyes get accustomed to the flickering candles on the sconces. Then his gaze landed on the contours of the quilt on the bed, two figures noticeable.

Knowing which was Sansa by the mere length of her body, he walked over to the left side of the large, canopied bed. He didn't wait and removed his tunic and breeches, standing there naked before even beginning his business.

Time to wake you up, Arya. Joffrey eyed the other figure. He didn't know if she was asleep or not, nor did he care. The plan was to start with Sansa and expand the scope to Arya. He'd normalized fucking them individually already, so there was no shame.

"Joffrey?"

"Sansa." He responded to Sansa's whispering, nervous tone. "You don't mind if I lay with you, do you?"

A gulp was audible.

"No, Your Grace."

Crossing mere formalities, Joffrey lifted the quilt and completely removed it from Sansa's frame. He appreciated that she wore a simple, loose gown underneath, perfect to remove with ease.

And he did just that.

Before even joining her on the bed he gripped the hem of her nightgown and pulled it upwards. He didn't stop until it forced Sansa to raise her hips and then her back, followed by her arms.

She's prepared. As he completely removed her gown, he smirked at the nakedness. There were no small clothes on her succulent, handful mounds, nor her clean, rosy cunt. She lay there in all her naked, slender glory. Her long, smooth legs were straight and squeezed together as if in shame, while her toned belly throbbed in undulations.

Joffrey placed his palm on her breasts and started gently, fondling and cupping them to his desired shapes. They had grown significantly, he reckoned. After childbirth, almost everything had grown in the right places. Larger bust, wider hips, better curves. It was clear, this was the makings of a woman finer than even Catelyn.

All for me to savor.

He took pride in being Sansa's first and only. And it seemed the same was the case for Arya, the petite warrior girl with a cunt so good it could milk him dry in moments.

It's great to be king.

"Come, move your lips, Sansa." Joffrey still didn't climb the bed. Instead, he grabbed her head and pulled her face closer to his shaft, making it clear what he wanted. At the same time, he traced his other hand down over her belly to rub her fertile flower.

In a moment, Joffrey felt her divine lips wrap his length at a constant push. She took more and more of him inside, a practiced move she'd repeated countless times. Her well-trained tongue coiled around his cockhead while her one hand stroked.

"Ah, you're as great as ever, my love." Joffrey praised her tight, suckling mouth. Right then, he took a dive in her wet cunt, pressing in two fingers from the get-go. She was scorching warm already, the wet noises were audible as his fingers parted her walls.

Feeling her delicate lips constantly scraping across his length made his knees weak. Sansa's mouth wasn't too wide, while his cock was the only thing with Baratheon features—big, thick, and long. He felt the natural tightness of her lips as that was the full extent they could open, the middle of his girth was too much for her to handle.

But trained to please her King's desire, she took more and more of him before finally swallowing him down into her throat. She hummed and made him groan in response. So used to such impaling she never gagged, and soon her pretty, shapely nose buried into his faint pubes.

She ground herself deep, impaling herself on his melting flesh. She felt each throb he made, each flex he made inside her tight throat. She couldn't breathe but she persisted, used to such incredible moments of lust.

"Gah! Gods, you've learned well, Sansa," Joffrey growled in feral lust. Instinctively, he gripped her loose, silky red hair and held her there, deeply full with his cock. He looked down at her and noticed her innocent eyes staring up.

Yet again, he reminded himself why he cherished being the King.

"Ummmm…mmmm!"

Joffrey began fucking her face in the true sense. He loosened himself out of her throat only to thrust back in. His hand gripping a bunch of her hair guided her movements too, all the while his fingers fucked her cunt.

"Mmm…" Sansa continued to suck, evident by her cheeks deflating every time he thrust inside.

So incredible; Joffrey closed his eyes and relished in the moment. He was loud, wet, and slurpy. His thrusts were making the entire bed jolt, and his voice wasn't that hushed either.

Let's see. He opened his eyes and glanced at Arya. The girl was lying flat as before, but there was something different now. Her chest rose and fell faster as if her breath was getting restless. Her eyelids seemed to shake at times.

Hah! Taking sneaking glances? Don't worry, you shall join us soon.

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