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The Mad Lion and the Wolf Bitch	By : ArizonaIceT Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 47435 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones. These stories are just for fun, not profit

Chapter List
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What was she doing here?

Joffrey had told her to be at his rooms after their tryst in the dungeons. She of course didn’t have to do it. She could’ve spent all day trying to find an excuse, find something that would occupy her time. Yet she found that she couldn’t deny Joffrey, no matter what he said, no matter what he did to her. She thought herself crazy, that she was somehow entrapped in a spell cast by a dark wizard. That the Gods had it out for her. Only explanation.

“Girly, If you’re gonna stand out there all night, I don’t think the prince will be happy.”

Arya was startled by the voice. The Hound. The only witness in their debauchery. She had been standing in the stairwell leading to the Prince’s room, just outside sight of the door. She must’ve been standing there in her thoughts longer than she intended. Sheepishly, she walked into The Hound’s line of sight. He looks at her with his signature bored expression.

He knocks on the door.

“What?”

“The girl.”

Joffrey’s door swings upon. He’s in his night clothes. He smiles at Arya. A genuine full smile. He was happy to see her. Arya almost found it endearing. Joffrey looks around, as if looking for people who might ruin the moment. He grabs her by the wrist and pulls her into the room.

“Make sure no one comes up here. I don’t care what you say, just-“

“Aye, your grace. I understand.”

Nodding his head, he closes the door.

Joffrey’s room.

It was about as gaudy as she expected a Lannister living space to be: overly furnished. Lots of crimson and gold. His bed was huge. King’s side. Made sense. She looked at Joffrey. He was still smiling, but he looked….well he looked nervous. Like someone who didn’t think they’d get this far. Neither of them did.

“Do you want any wine?” He suddenly asks. “We have the best imported from Esos”

“I’m ok” She answers plainly.

Joffrey poured himself a cup, and sat on his bed, eyes on her. She squirmed under his appraisal. She actually decided to change from their time in the dungeon. She was wearing one of her summer dresses. She didn’t understand why she felt the need to dress up for him.

“Joffrey. Why am I here?” She asks, eyeing him nervously. He gave her a strange looked.

“You know why. I’m going to take you. Make you mine” He explains as if talking to a child.

There it was, finally said in the open. He wanted her fully. What they’ve been doing, it was frowned upon greatly. Nations have fallen over misplaced kisses. But for him to actually take her maidenhood- while Arya did not put much stock in traditions, she knew this would be an ultimate taboo.

“We….can’t” She says, not sure of her voice.

Joffrey scowls at her and begins pacing the room

“I can do anything I want.” He snarls. “I’m the king-“

“You’re the prince. One who is betrothed to my SISTER.”

Joffrey throws his cup to the ground. Arya flinches at the suddenness. Joffrey strides up to her, grabbing her by the jaw.

“STOP mentioning her when you’re with me” He grits out. Arya wrenches her face away from his hand. She doesn’t let him bully her silent.

“Why? Because it’s not convenient? You’re meant to be marrying my perfect sister, and here you are throwing that all away, putting both our family names on the line….for what?” She asks. Honestly, that was the question wasn’t it. Arya couldn’t understand Joffrey, or how he thought. He was always so wild, so reactive.

Joffrey opens his mouth as if to say something, but quickly closes it. Seemed he didn’t know himself. He studied her face.

“Why did you come here then” He asks.

It was Arya’s turn to be speechless. She refuses to meet his gaze. Joffrey stepped to one side, turning his back to her, breathing deeply, as if composing himself.

“Know what I think. You want this as much as me. More so even. Everything you let me do to you….well you’re just a dark girlie aren’t you Arya.”

Arya flushed red and continued to not look at him.

“-but that’s ok. I’m not judging you. I accept you, and you accept me.” Says Joffrey as he turns back around, eyes boring into her. He reaches out his hand, and gently begins to stroke Arya’s cheek. Unconsciously Arya leans into his too. His hand snakes into her hair, and he continues to gently caress her.

“We make each other whole. Every King needs a Queen”

“You have a queen.”

“No. Your sister is just a girl. A name on a paper. Livestock that was traded for me. I’m not livestock. I am Joffrey Baratheon.”

As he speaks, Joffrey tightens his fist in Arya’s hair, getting a handful at the base her ponytail. He gave it a sudden tug,, tilting Arya’s head back. A moan escaped her lips at the sensation. Finally she looked at him. He was staring at her with intensity, and something else. Hope? Hope that she wouldn’t reject him. Hope that she wouldn’t run away.

After what felt like ages, she finally spoke.

“Just….be gentle.” She says in a voice barely above a whisper. Joffrey just smiled at her.

“No.”

Joffrey drags her by the hair, leading to his bed. Arya stumbles awkwardly along, as she’s led like a lame dog. When they get close, he uses one hand to grab her shoulder, and toss her onto the mattress. She lands with an ‘oof’. Joffrey straddles his back. He begins attempting to undo the bindings of her dress. He fumbles with the knots, but is unable to undo them. Arya almost found it adorable.

“Oh to hells with this” He growls as he grabs the fabric of each shoulder, and pulls.

*RIPPPPP*

Joffrey rips her dress down the middle

“That’s the second piece of clothing you ripped.” Arya says. Joffrey responds by flipping her to her back, and bringing his head to her breast through the entrance he’s created. He closes his mouth around her right nipple, sucking, and rolling his tongue over it, while he tweaks her left with his hand. Arya moans and arches into him, trying to get as much contact as possible. Joffrey releases her from his mouth, and slides back to the foot of the bed. He grabs the bottom of her dress and begins to slide it down. Arya lifts her hips to aid him, allowing it to slide down her body. Joffrey tosses it to the side, while she slides down her undergarments and kicks off her slippers. He stands to appraise Arya, eyes darting up and down her body.

Arya can’t help but cover her breast with her hands and clench her legs together. She didn’t know why she still found herself shy after everything.

“Move your hands, and spread your legs. I want to see you” He orders, tone leaving room for no argument.

After a second of hesitation, she obeys, giving Joffrey an unblocked view.

“Fuck-“ He breathes out. He crawls back on the bed, covering her body with his. He crashed his lips to her. His hands glide all over her skin, grabbing whatever he can. He’s not particularly gentle or skilled, but he wouldn’t be Joffrey if he was. He lets one of his hands slither down her stomach. He moves it lower, finger glancing over her clit. Arya squeals, and bucks her hips.

“Stay still” He orders. He pins her hips to the mattress with one hand and rubs over her folds with the other.

He takes two fingers and pushes into her. She clenches around him, moaning.

“You’re so fucking tight” He breathes out. “Gotta get you ready, or I’ll never fit.”

He pistons her fingers in and out of her. She’s already wet, her juices dripping down her inner thighs and all over Joffrey’s hands.

“J-Joffrey…fuck, oh gods-“ Arya moans and squeals. She twitches and squirms, but Joffrey is keeping her anchored to the bed.

“That’s it. Get that cunt nice and wet for me.” He says. He adds a third finger, stretching out Arya’s passage. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but the pleasure outweighs it. He speeds up his pace, driving his fingers into her, feeling her walls. Arya is seeing stars as the pleasure in her belly begins to boil over. He cunt squeezes around his fingers and she lets out a high pitch moan as he finger fucks her to completions. Her whole body spasms against the mattress. She bucks her hips, finally lifting them from his grasp. Joffrey pulls his hand away, and an arc of her juices squirts from her pussy, all over the sheets. Joffrey seems fascinated by his accomplishment. After bucking and spasming for about half a minute, her orgasm finally passes. She’s breathing heavily and looks up at Joffrey. He has a shit eating grin on his face, self satisfied.
He leans over, and wipes his hand against her cheek, smearing her juices on her face. He pushes two fingers into her mouth. She sucks on instinct, cleaning the rest of herself off of his hand.

“Now you need to get me ready”. He says as he throws one leg over her torso, straddling her chest. He lowers his night pants past his hips, allowing his cock to fall free. It bounces off Arya’s nose with a whap.

She inhales deeply, getting a whiff of his natural musk. Memories of King’s Road filled her mind. She found herself missing the smell of his manhood. She gave the underside of his cock a long lick, from base to tip, eliciting a groan from the prince. He pushes his tip between her lips, and begins to rock his hips. The position greatly limited Arya’s movement, so settled for letting him do all the work and fuck her mouth, sucking and licking as he pushed in and out. Joffrey took things slower than the night at the inn, giving slow, shallow thrusts into her mouth. He wasn't seeking to cum, but to get him prepared for the main course. Arya obviously was thinking differently, as she was sucking, massaging, and worshiping his cock with her tongue in ways that were driving Joffrey madder than he already was. After one particularly strong suck from her, Joffrey had to pusher her forehead and pull out of her mouth, lest he spilled down her throat.

“Fuck, what are you doing to me Arya” Joffrey breathes out. Arya actually smiled at her apparent effect on him.

Joffrey slides down Arya’s body, positioning himself between her legs. He lets his cock rest on her stomach, letting her feel the weight of him. Arya looked at him nervously. Even with the prep, he was still just so big, and so small.

“Spread your legs, as wide as they’ll go” Joffrey orders. He was smiling, almost giddy.

Arya looked away and let her legs fall open. Her training had greatly increased her flexibility, so she was able to spread her thighs flat to the mattress, giving Joffrey unfettered access to her.

Adjusting his hips, he lines up his bulbous head with her entrance. He gives her clit a few swipes with it, making Arya squirm. He aligns himself, and pushes in, HARD.To the hilt.

It hurt.

There is no gentleness. One snap of his hips, and Arya has Joffrey’s full 9 inches buried in her cunt. She lets out a scream. Her walls try to accommodate his sheer size. She knew it was hurt. She’s heard stories and had the lessons, but Joffrey always took things to another level. She just felt so FULL, like someone had shoved an arm into her. He was deep in her, deeper than she even knew she went.
She squirms under him, as screwed closed. She can hear him breathing heavily. But then….he breathing goes quiet- very quiet. And he’s not moving.

Arya, cracks her eyes open, and sees Joffrey staring at her with a grimace on his face. Not with his usual intensity, but hatred. He reels back, pulling completely out of her. He looks between her legs, and then between her, and his frown deepens.

“Joffrey what-“

Before Arya can finish her sentence, Joffrey slaps her across the face. Hard. Hard enough to bring stars to Arya’s eyes.

“Who….” He asks, tone flat and cold. Arya, still trying to process the slap, doesn’t comprehend what he’s saying.

“Joff-“

She’s interrupted again, this time by Joffrey’s hands going to her neck. Arya gasps as her airway is cut off. Her hands got to his wrist, trying to pry them off. She kicks impotently trying to shake him from atop her, but she it’s fruitless. Her panicked eyes go to his face, trying to understand WHY.

“Who had you before me you WHORE!” Joffrey growls. Arya tries to say something, but can only gargle a response.

“You think I’m an idiot. Some FOOL! You maidenhood is GONE. There was no blood! Was it that fucking butcher’s boy? I’ll find him and his family. I’ll have them flayed! Burned alive! I’ll-“

Joffrey squeezes tighter as he rambles. Arya’s mind is going blank, eyes rolling into her head. Her kicks become weaker and weaker. Tears run down her red face. She feels her muscles giving out, going limp, as her vision blurs and then darkens.

SLAP

Another slap connects with Arya’s face, bringing her back to a semblance of consciousness. Her eyes shoot open, and she looks around, remembering where she is. Joffrey grabs a fistful of her hair and yanks it up to look at him, hard enough to tear it from the root if he wanted.

“WHO, Arya?” He demands words deadly.

“H-h-h” Arya stammers

“What?” Joffrey growls, yanking her hair harder.

“H-horseback riding” She croaks painfully.

Joffrey just stares at her, confused and angry. Horseback riding? He wasn’t understanding. What did that have to do with- Oh. His eyes go wide, and he lets go over her hair, letting it drop against the bed.

It wasn’t unheard of that women would have their maidenhood broken while riding horses. The galloping and uneven roads would sometimes cause their hymens to break. And someone like Arya, who rode horses for fun, and at higher speeds than your average princess-

Joffrey fucked up.

He gets off of her, giving her some space. Immediately Arya pulls her legs to her chest, pressing her face into them. She was sniffling, trying to hold back tears. Joffrey reaches out his hand, as if to try and comfort her, but he flinches away from him.

“Arya…I…I’m-”

An apology. Joffrey had never apologized for anything in his life, least not that he meant. He likely wasn’t even capable of it.

Arya peeks over knees, warily watching him with red eyes. He has the decency to look ashamed.
“Roll onto your front Arya.” He says quietly. Arya just glares at him, unmoving. “PLEASE, Arya. I will make you feel good, I promise.”

Arya should walk away. Hell she should run away. Joffrey was a psycho, subject to fits of rage. He nearly killed her out of misplaced jealousy, that he would have no right to to begin with. She should kick him away from her, run to her father and come clean, repent. Even if Joffrey lied (which he would) she would be clean in spirit, and free of him. That would be the rational and right thing to do.

Too bad she wasn’t rational or right. If she was, her cunt wouldn’t be wetter than it ever was. If she was, she wouldn’t have came when he was choking the life out of her (she was relived that he didn’t notice). And if she was, she wouldn’t have found herself obeying, rolling onto her hands and knees, curious about what he had in store for her next.
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The Mad Lion and the Wolf Bitch