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Daenerys Misadventures	By : nitchgut Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 110653 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own Game of Thrones, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
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- 7
More slave Dany was the winner. Followed by Dany/Mero or the other sellsword captains and Dany taking Jon prisoner.
Thanks again for voting and leaving comments.
No beta, so forgive any glaring mistakes I missed.

The Slave Queen: Broken.
(MF, rape, reluc, drugs, bondage)

A prequel to the previous slave chapter. Krazny attempts to break Daenerys will.

How long had it been? Daenerys could no longer tell. Her hands were bound, her eyes covered, her mouth gagged and her body laid bare. She hung from her tied hands, her arms painfully outstretched and supporting all her weight.
She could barely feel the ground, just a hint of a stone floor on the tips of her toes every so often as she gently swayed back and forth. If she stretched, she could stand and rest her weight on the balls of her feet. But that brought a different kind of pain as her body contorted to reach the floor and she could only hold the position for so long.
She could barely feel the humid warm air that kept her bare skin damp with sweat. She couldn't feel the way her silver-blonde hair, free of her braids, cascaded down her back and chest. She couldn't feel anything but the ache in her arms. A dull agonizing constant throb of pain to remind her of her foolishness.
She had come to Astapor an arrogant, foolish girl. A girl who had thought just because had dragons she could change the world.
The Good Masters had taken her dragons, her men, they had taken her. No trades were offered, no deals were to be struck. The Good Masters and their Unsullied had come swords and spears unsheathed and simply took what they wanted.
And now she hung, alone, naked, and in agony. She did not know what had happened to her people, her dragons. Not that she could think of much other than the pain.
A door opened, she could hear the sound of iron moving, then cool air kissed her overheated skin. She shivered and behind her blindfold her eyes rolled back in her head.
Maybe they were here to kill her, maybe they would finally start to whip and beat her. Maybe they would feed her, let her drink. How long had it been since she had drunk anything? she did not know.
A hand gently touched her thigh, she jerked, then moaned as her arms twisted. Agony coursed through her.
Then another hand grabbed her other leg. Soft fingers dug into her damp skin, then they lifted. Her thighs raised, her bare legs slid up the torso of the man before her. He pulled her close.
Her body pressed against his, her breasts pressed against his chest, her sweat-slick skin slipped across him, and then with his hands on her legs he lifted her even more.
Daenerys screamed as the weight of her body was finally removed from her arms. Blood coursed into her limbs and the dull throbbing pain that had tortured her every waking moment turning into agonizing burning hot pain as her arms came back to life.
But then the weight was gone, her arms went ever so slack, and the agony that had plagued her for who knows how long fell away as this man held her. She let out a dry heaving breath through her gag and gasped.
The man's hand slipped under her ass, cradling her. Her captor, her torturer, a Good Master of Asatpor no doubt, maybe even Kraznys himself or one of his underlings meant to break her.
He pulled away slightly and she could not stop herself from whimpering. Her heart began to race, she lifted her legs with what little energy she had left and tried to hold him still, hold him close and he stopped. He stood there with her, holding her in his arms, supporting her weight.
She did not care who he was, only that he gave her respite from that hell.
Then she felt it, hard and heavy between her legs and growing in length. His hands gently pawed at her, massaging the flesh of her thighs and ass.
He spread her cheeks apart, she gasped and he laughed.
"You wish me to stop, Mother of Dragons? You wish me to leave, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea?" he said his voice a whisper.
Daenerys murmured into her gag and the sound seemed almost alien to her.
She did not want this, but she did not want to be left hanging, she did not want him to let her go.
His cock pressed against her, thick and heavy. It slid across her folds, between her legs, pressed against her as it swelled with blood. Behind her blindfold she closed her eyes and whimpered into her gag.
Gravity pulled her down as if the world itself wanted the man's cock inside her. The sweat that covered every inch of her made her skin flush and slick and her flesh slipped easily against his. The head of his cock, slick and wet pressed against her cunt. The pressure of it pushed her lips apart and opened her body to him.
Daenerys clenched her teeth.
He let her sink down slightly, enough to press the head of his cock against her cunt, enough so she could feel the weight of her body return to the arms hanging above her head.
"Mmhh," she moaned into the gag. But the man did not move. He was waiting, letting her choose, she could hang, or she could give herself to him.
With the little strength she had, with the little movement she could make, she pulled away. She was Daenerys Targaryen, the last of her family, Mother of Dragons, and heir to the Iron Throne. She was no slave, she was not weak, and this pathetic slaver would not break her.
Daenerys' scream was muffled as she was dropped, left to hang by her own weight once again. The door shut and once again she was alone with her agony.
---
Three days? Four? Five? She could not tell, could not remember. They had come to let her drink once, splashing the barest hints of water across her lips. Enough to keep her alive and suffering.
He came again as he had every day, a respite to her suffering. He was strong and stiff and he held her, his hands roamed over her exposed body as she clung to him and rested her weary body. He would always laugh as he made his offer, as his cock swelled and pressed against her, as his grip tightened around her. He would give her relief, but he wanted his own.
They were not like her, they were slavers, they did not value life. They would let her die here. She was Daenerys Targaryen, the last of her family, Mother of Dragons, rightful heir to the Iron Throne. She could not die here.
It was then she had decided to not pull away. When the man's cock grew, swelled, and pressed against her cunt she did not twist away, she let him slide up against her, she shifted her weight and moaned as he entered her. Her cunt spread for his girth and gripped his cock.
The pressure of his cock inside her hurt, tore in her insides and her resolve. But it was better than hanging, better than being left to die. She moaned as he slid inside her. She did not pull away this time. Instead, she squeezed him closer. It was better this way.
It was only sex, a primal at that act that meant nothing. She could bid her time, find her power again as she had done with Khal Drogo.
Thankfully he had covered his cock with some sort of oil. Slick and wet the first inch of his cock slid into her with relative ease. The pressure, the feeling of her cunt spreading for him hurt, but it was a different kind of pain than what she had been suffering through, it was almost pleasant.

She held back the moan as he penetrated her, violated her. He grunted into her ear as he moved. Slowly at first, rolling his hips up and down, dragging his cock against the insides of her cunt.
"Slave," he moaned into her ear. "Queen of nothing," he told her as he drove into her, his body slapped into her from below, making him gasp as she bounced on his cock.
"Queen of slaves, Queen of tight little cunts," he moaned into her ear, as he moved, throwing his hips up and down, driving himself up and inside her.
By then she could not help but moan in return, pain, pleasure, maybe in pure relief of feeling anything but the chains around her arms. It was better this way, so much better.
She ignored his taunting, his insults as he fucked her. He called her names between thrusts, called her his whore, his slave, but then delighted in telling her how good she felt, how warm and wet and tight her little cunt was. How she was made for fucking. She couldn't respond, couldn't think, she could only moan.
With her eyes still covered, her world still dark, she hung onto the man, her thighs squeezing his hips as he drove himself into her from below. The chains rattled, but they did not hurt.
There was no more pain, only-- Daenerys tried to put those thoughts away, ignored the heat between her legs. The man was relentless in his movements. Slow at first, easing his cock into her cunt, then faster, and always steady.
Strong arms held her up, gripping her thighs and ass, lifting her each time he drove into her. She gasped and moaned and found herself bouncing her body against him.
After being alone for so long, after the constant mind-numbing pain she couldn't help but feel like this was a gift. A chance of not only removing the pain but gaining pleasure.
"Please," she moaned through her gag. She felt herself flush with anger and embarrassment as her cunt clenched around him. She rolled her hips, wishing for him to fuck her harder. She hoped he had not heard her, hoped he had not seen her weakness.
His hand reached between them, his other hand still holding her. He was so strong and hard and good.
"Do you want this Daenerys Targaryen?" the man huffed into her ear, his finger pressed against her lower stomach, sending pleasure through her.
Her body bounced against him, her thighs clenching his body. She nodded her head rapidly.
"Do you want this slave?"
She nodded again then felt his fingers press against her clit. Her body clenched, every muscle spasming almost to the point of pain as she came. She shook and moaned, her tongue thrashed against her gag, her body jerked against her tormentor driving his cock even deeper inside her.
Her mind reeled as she climaxed, undeniable pleasure washed over her quickly followed by despair. She shook, sobbing as he kept fucking her, driving his cock in and our her aching cunt. Wetness pooled from her cunt coating his cock.
She felt him throb, falter, then stop, his fingers dug into her hips, holding her tight as he undoubtedly emptied himself into her. Her sweat-slick body pressed against his, his hands held tightly into the flesh of her ass. His cock was seated fully inside her, throbbing, filling her with his seed.
The aftershocks of her own release still coursed through her. Her body betrayed her mind, tremors ran through her cunt, squeezing his cock for all it was worth, milking every last ounce of his seed from him.
Weak, defeated, she let out a soft muffled cry as he felt him move inside her, thrusting his hips unevenly as he finally finished coming inside her.
Mother of Dragons, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, she thought ruefully, what was she truly? For the second time in her young life, she had came all over the cock of a man raping her.
His grip on her lessened, the chain above her once again going tight. She whimpered feeling the chain pull on her arms. But this time he did not let her hang, instead, the chains around her arms went slack and she fell to the ground.
Disoriented and weak she fell to her side, she shuddered as she felt the warmth of his cum seep from her well-used cunt. The steel chains pooled in front of her.
The gag in her mouth was pulled free. Daenerys licked her parched lips and sighed, the simple pleasure of being able to close her mouth nearly overwhelming.
"Mother of Dragons. Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea. You are no more. You are mine, my slave," Kraznys mo Nakloz said with a smile as he looked down at the wrecked girl at his feet.
"I will be a good master, kind and gentle, I will give you pleasure and power you can only dream off." Kraznys knelt beside, "Would you like that Daenerys Targaryen?"
Daenerys kept her head down, still gasping for breath, her body still reeling. She knew what he wanted, he was a slave master, he wanted to break her will.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep or food or water, the torment she had just experienced but some small part of her wanted to give in as well, let him win, if only temporarily. If only to get her out of this room. He had already taken her, raped her, made her cum all over his cock. What was the point of fighting anymore? What would be the point of staying locked chained and hanging in this tiny cell?
She thought of Drogo then, how she had given in to him. She would have been happy to just be his wife, a Khaleesi and nothing more. She knew if she gave into Kraznys now she might never come back.

"You're pathetic." she spat out. It came out a hoarse whisper. Her voice gravelly from disuse.
It was a foolish thing to do, she knew that, but she would not break so easily. He would punish her no doubt, whip her, rape her, beat her maybe even kill her. But she would not break.
To Daenerys' surprise, he pushed a cup to her lips. "Drink slave," he said. She turned away shocked. Water. Cold, clean water.
Not punishment, but a reward?
If it was some sort of trick she did not care. She reached up, the chains around her arms dragged and clanged together as she cradled the cold cup and gulped its contents down. Her chest heaved and much of the liquid split from the sides of her mouth over her cheeks and chin and down her body to the stone floor below.
It tasted clean and refreshing, pure. She swallowed more, drinking from it until her head spun and her body buzzed. It tasted of a dozen different things, of water and spiced ale, like the juices of a freshly cut fruit. The bitter taste of tarts. It tasted like the dry gag once in her mouth, it tasted bitter and salty and of dirt.
The blindfold was pulled from her head, she squinted and winced as she saw light for the first time since gods know how long. She dropped the cup and a blue liquid spilled over the stone floor.
It was not water.
She knew the taste. Shade of the Evening, it was said to be a magical drink. A simple sip would give you visions of the past and future. Show you things no person should see. Tell you truths you should not know.
Daenerys had tasted it before in Qarth. The Warlocks there had fed it to her after they had stolen her dragons. They had hoped the visions would confuse her, trap her, drive her mad. They had not.
It would be no use to try to spit the vile liquid up, she had drunk far too much. She could feel it coating her teeth and tongue, bitter and dark. There was no fighting this.
Daenerys looked up at the man, Krazny? she could not be sure. Her vision doubled, then blurred until she could see little more than vague shapes and colors. Her head toppled and she had to catch herself from collapsing completely to the stone floor.
The drink would show her lies, she knew that, lies and deceit. She looked up once again after steadying herself. Kraznys was gone, she was alone, and the door was open. She forced herself to stand on unsteady legs, she ignored the ringing in her ears, the pounding of her heart. She forced herself to sees straight.
With one hand on the wall she braced herself, hobbled to the door and left this hell.
She was Daenerys Targaryen, the last of her family's line, Mother of Dragons. Torture would not break her, magic tricks and illusions would not break her. These slavers would learn the same deadly lesson the Warlocks of Qarth had, a dragon was not a slave.
It was warm outside her cell and she found it difficult to stand but she found strength in her freedom, with each step she moved faster, she leaned less on the wall for support, she had started with a stumble but quickly found herself running down the hall. She heard voices, she turned and ducked into an empty room.
Illusions, visions, prophetic dreams. She knew Shade of the Evening would twist her mind, show her falsehoods, but still, she wasn't prepared for what awaited her in that room.

An open balcony and bright sunlight greeted her. She squinted, shook her head then looked out at the horizon and the great pyramids that stood there. She was no longer in Astapor.
"No," she murmured, touching her blue stained lips, it was just a vision, a drug-induced illusion from the vile liquid she had drank.
"Mysha!" the crowd below her cried out. There were hundreds of people, no thousands down there, reaching out for her, "Mysha!" they chanted.
It meant mother, she did not know how she knew it, but she did.
"They love you." A voice said behind her but she could not bring herself to turn around.
"Love?" she whispered, watching as the thousands of people cheered for her, worshiped her. She couldn't help but smile. This was her future, loved by all.
"They love you? But will you let them love you?" the voice said, this time she turned but when she did the world around her shifted and she no longer found herself on the balcony, instead she was on the ground with the crowd, the Great Pyramid that she had once stood on top now loomed above her.
"Mysha!" a thousand voices cried out from the thousand men who huddled around her. Her head spun, overwhelmed, she touched her lips, still numb. This wasn't real. It couldn't be real.
Then they grabbed her, "Mysha!" they all chanted in near-perfect unison, a hand went to her arms, then her legs and before she could react she was being lifted into the air, carried, venerated.
She had freed them. She knew this. They loved her. The thought nearly overwhelmed her. Three dragons flew above her, roaring in sync with the chant of Mysha. This was her future, her destiny.
The dragons roared again, and the crowd cheered so loudly she could feel it from head to the tip of her toes.
Then she felt the first hand slip between her legs brushing against her inner thigh. They loved her, she told herself, as another hand grasped her behind, squeezing the flesh there.
She turned to look at the crowd. Dozens of men stared back at her, leering. Hundreds of other men watched, their hands outreached trying to touch her, grab her. They loved her, she told herself.
Rough calloused fingers slipped between her legs and rubbed against her smooth flesh. Daenerys moaned. A dozen hands roamed over her body, one of them grabbed her by her braid, pulling her head back and she gasped. Another set of hands reach around her chest, cupping her breasts, squeezing her tightly. Her moans were drowned out by their chants and the dragon's roars.
The crowd let her down, dropping her lower, more hands went to her stomach, feet, calves, hands went around her head, around her neck.
Those calloused fingers pressed further between her legs, running up and down her slit. She moaned caught of guard by how wet she was. The hands on her chest pinched and tweaked her nipples until they stood hard and erect.
Fingers pressed against her lips, dragged along her teeth until she opened her mouth. They pushed into her mouth, against her tongue. More hands wrapped around her neck, her legs, her arms. Every inch of her was being pulled and prodded and poked.
She heard the fabric of her dress tear. She looked up to find herself surrounded by men, men she had freed. She twisted in their grasp as they tore at her clothes but it was no use, there were too many of them, they were too strong and she was too weak.
They loved her, she told herself again. But shook her head, her lips still numb. This wasn't real. It wasn't real.
"Mysha," they chanted deeply, their cocks in their hands, the sound they made was almost inhuman as they towered over her. She could no longer see the sunlight or her dragons. Darkness loomed over her, the smell of sweat at sex was nearly overwhelming.
They would use her for their own gain, for their own pleasure. Some part of her knew this. She had given them everything and they did not care, they only cared about themselves.
One of them forced himself between her legs. His cock flopped against her cunt. A hand grabbed her head twisting her head and she felt the cock press against both her cunt and mouth. Her hands were pulled, her fingers opened and wrapped around men’s shafts. They would take every inch of her.
Cum and dirt smeared across her face, she could taste it on her lips. "No," she muttered between clenched teeth. She tried to roll away but the hands holding her were too strong, they were too many of them.
They were everywhere, sliding against her skin, squeezing her breasts, pulling her legs apart. She could feel their fingers and their cocks rubbing against her. One of the men bent down, his mouth encircling her nipple. It wasn't real she told herself, he suckled on her and she moaned. It felt real. She stared in disbelief as his bald head bobbed over her breast and just past him a man knelt between her legs, his hands roaming up and down her thighs, his cock ready to fuck her, and behind him, dozens, hundreds, thousand of more men waited their turn.
"They will use you--" She heard the voice again, it was Kraznys and some part of her knew he spoke the truth "-- and you will let them because you are weak."
Daenerys twisted away, reached out, but her hands were quickly grabbed, stretched outward. Her legs held tight by the man between them.
"No," she whispered. This wasn't real. She needed to wake up, to leave.
"Mysha," the man moaned as he entered her, her dragons roared and she moaned. Filthy fingers dug into her pristine skin. He thrust forward, his dirty cock thicker and longer than any she had before she cried out in shock, pain, and pleasure.
And then they were gone. She was now standing, her torn dress was gone, replaced with thick furs. The dry summer air and hot sun replaced a bitter cold that seeped into her bones.
"You will give them everything and they will take it all and throw you away." A voice said behind her, sending a shiver down her spine. She pulled on the fur lined coat she wore and looked down at the mud-covered castle courtyard where people argued.
"She's an outsider."
"She's not one of us."
"She shouldn't be here."
She didn't quite understand how she heard them, but she had, she turned to look outside at the funeral pyres where thousands of her people lay, dead and burning.
"You give them anything and they will take everything." Kraznys voice returned. She squeezed her eyes closed.
"This isn't real," she muttered to herself.
"Isn't it?" Krazny said, this time in Valyrian.
Behind her a door opened, and a sudden dread overcame her. Somehow this was even worse than her previous vision, she'd rather be surronded by a horde of men ready to rape her than here in this place.
Someone approached and she closed her eyes. She didn't want to be here, anywhere but here.

A hand pressed itself against her bare stomach, she felt him press himself against her back. She closed her eyes, fighting to figure out what was real and what wasn't.
It was no longer cold, the sweltering heat of the desert had returned. She opened her eyes to the sound of moaning.
"Trying to help people will only hurt you," Kraznys voice whispered. A sharp pain stabbed at her heart, a vision of the Iron Throne danced across her mind.
She opened her eyes and found herself looking at a Dothraki tent. She could hear the moaning coming from within.
"Wasn't life easy, better, when you simply were who you truly are," he whispered into her ear. His hand slid across her stomach, dancing lower and lower. She couldn't bring herself to push him off her.
He walked them both into the tent but Daenerys already knew what was inside. She looked upon the scene, seeing herself on her knees in front of Khal Drogo. It was the first night she had taken Drogo into her mouth and tasted his seed. It was the first time she had any control.
"You were never happier than you were in the moment." his hand finally dipped lower, the soft pads of his fingers dancing of her sweat-damp skin, skimming across and between her legs.
It was like a dream, or a memory, she watched herself on her knees before her husband. Drool spilled from her mouth as she gleefully sucked on the Khals large cock.
The taste of him filled her mouth. Kranzys fingers pushed against her clit. Without thinking she spread her legs slightly, giving him better access to her cunt.
Daenerys Targaryen moaned and pressed back against him. Watching the memory of herself servicing the Khal.
"Do not lie to yourself Daenerys," he whispered. "That is where you belong. Fighting your fate will only bring death to you and everyone you love."
Daenerys bit her lip, feeling her stomach twist in a knot as his fingers entered her. Slowy he worked her, thrusting his finger in and out of her soaking cunt in time with her vision.
Each time the memory of her moved, each time she took the Khals cock deeper into her throat Krazny’s finger pushed further into her. She leaned back against him heavily, her cunt squeezing his finger tightly.
It felt good, it felt right. To be used, told what to do. She chewed on her full bottom lip and held back a moan.
He turned her and she could hear nothing but the sound of her past self gagging on the cock of her long-dead husband. She moaned like a whore
The Khal would fuck her that night, she could still remember it, his cock driving hard into her aching cunt, she could still feel her body spasming around him. The feeling, the memory, made her knees week.
If Drogo was alive he would have protected her, he would have fucked her. Used her, driven his cock so deep inside her until she could do nothing but cum. Meekly she looked at Krazny, he could do the same, she needed him to do the same.
"Drink slave," Kranzy said bringing a cup to her lips. More poison, more lies, none of this was real, some small part of her mind screamed but went unheard. She drank willingly, wantingly.
The cup fell to the floor.
"I'm a Queen," Daenerys muttered, the defiance in her voice half-hearted
"Yes," Kranzy hand came up to cradle her face, "And I am your King, your Khal, I am your everything."
It was barely a nudge on her shoulders but she found herself falling to her knees before him, eye level with the bulge in behind his robes. She could still taste Drogo's cum in her mouth. Feel the way he throbbed as he spilled himself on her tongue.
And then Kraznys was gone, instead, now she kneeled before Drogo, her fingers wrapped around his cock. She stared at it throbbing in her hand, arousal washed through her along with something else.
There was power on her knees. Drogo had used her, abused her, thought nothing of her. Drogo commanded thousands, he was feared but thousands more all across Essos. But she had turned him, molded him, made him love her.
Daenerys licked her lips, her fingers dancing over the cock in her hand stroking it. She had done that with her mouth and lips and tongue. She had tamed Drogo through his cock. This was where she was the most powerful, on her knees with a cock in her mouth.
Daenerys stroked his cock, dragging her fingers up and down the shaft. Her mouth watered, he moaned. Here she was in control, she had the power.
It could be done again. She bent down, licking the head of his cock.
She looked up, wanting to see the pleasure in her lover's face and found Kranzys looking down at her.
The shade, it was doing things to her mind, confusing her tricking her. But she did not care. This was the only power she had left, the only choice. She had to take it. She leaned forward, opening her mouth letting his cock drag against her full lips before swallowing him whole with a moan.
Kraznys moaned, "That's it, slave."
Saliva pooled in her mouth, wetting the cock nestled tightly against her tongue. Daenerys gave a glance up at Kraznys, the smug grin still on his face as he watched with. Her vision blurred again, and Kranzys shifted. She blinked, she could no longer recognize him, for a moment he looked like her dead husband, then a man with a forked beard and blue hair, then a man with grey eyes before the blurred image returned to look like the slaver.
It did not matter, she closed her eyes, leaned in, and took the goodmasters cock into her mouth.
He tasted delicious, like sweet salted berrys. She leaned forward and moaned, his cock dragged across her tongue and the roof of her mouth until it touched the back of her throat.
Power, she told herself, there was power here. Power to make men crumble. She sucked and suckled and stroked his cock.
Kranzys moaned, his fingers dug into her hair and Daenerys smiled around his shaft.
Power she thought as she worked him with her mouth, bathing him with her tongue. Her free hand reached between her legs and found her cunt aching and wet.
She would take him into her mouth every day if she had to, swallow his cum, let him shoot it across her face and breasts. She moaned against his cock, her lips sealing around his shaft as her head bobbed up and down faster. She would let him fuck her, let him use her. Let him do anything to her.
The cock between her lips throbbed. Daenerys heard Krazny moan, felt his fingers dig into her scalp. Then warmth flooded her mouth, coating her tongue and teeth. Washing her sense of taste with the bitter flavor of his seed.
With a gasp, she pulled away and cum leaked from her mouth, down her lips and chin, and fell onto her breast before falling to the stone floor. She wiped her mouth clean and to her surprise she felt the familiar feeling of steel chains around her wrists.
She had never left her cell. It was all an illusion, tricks played within her own mind because of that accursed drink.
A hand touched her face, tilting her head up. Kraznys looked down. His cock softened near her face.
"This is where you belong," he told her in Valyrian.
This time Daenerys did not protest, she simply looked away. She could not beat this man with force, she would not win by resisting. But there were other ways to win, and there was power here, on her knees before him.
"Remove her chains," Kranzys spoke and then there were hands on her, soft hands, feminine hands. She blinked and tried to focus on the women, but they were gone as quickly as had came
"On the bed," Krazny said and motioned up, and again hands appeared, sliding under her arms, half urging her up, half pulling her.
A bed, there had been a bed in her cell? She wondered absently. She had been blindfolded too long, too much time had passed.
The mattress was soft and she was too weak, when the hands once again left her she fell back. She watched, in half-closed eyes as Krazny approached, loomed over her like a giant.
His cock was already hard again, standing tall and proud, jetting from his body like a spear. He licked his teeth and stared down at his prize.
It was a gentle touch, just his fingers over her knees but it might as well of be a command. Daenerys Targaryen opened her legs and the Goodmaster smiled and stepped forward. She watched, transfixed on his cock as it leaked cum from the tip. Her cunt twitched, throbbed with anticipation.
"Do you want this slave? Do you wish to be fucked by your master?"
No.
There was power here, under him. She watched as he stroked himself for her. She felt her mouth water, her stomach clench.
In the distance she heard dragons roar, she could feel them, their fire and warmth. She could feel them course through her, strength and power.
She watched him close what little distance remained between them. His hand slipping over her thigh. The length of his cock slipped between her legs, his shaft dragging over her clit and she almost came right there and then. He pulled back, dragging the head of his cock over her, but stopped at where her body opened to him.
"Yes," Daenerys Targaryen said and closed her eyes, the pressure of his cock pushed against her, her body resisted for a moment before opening fully to him, taking all of him inside her. His cock filled her so completely, so fully.
He moved, his cock sliding from her body only to thrust back in. Nothing in the world had ever felt so good, so perfect. As if some missing part of her was filled. Daenerys Targaryen moaned, and reached up for her master. She lifted her hips to meet him and then a little part of her knew that she had lost.

-=-

Thanks for reading. Hope you liked it.
For the next chapter I think I might try something a little different, and it will be a collection of smaller scenes that are too short to be a chapter of their own. Mostly continuations and expansions of scenes I’ve already wrote. Like a what if or directors cut of previous chapters.
For example, an expanded scene of the Mereen vision from this chapter where the crowd gangbangs Daenerys, maybe an extended scene or new scene with Robert/Dany and Pycelle/Dany from the Dragon at Court chapter, stuff like that.
So if that interests you, and you have any scene in particular you would like to see expanded on, or maybe you hoped had gone a different way leave a comment telling me what it is and maybe I’ll write it.
I’ll also keep the voting going for the next major chapter as well.

1. Back to the Ciri story.
2. Dany takes Jon prisoner
3. More Dany as a sex slave
4. Dany / Mero and/or the other sellsword captains
5. Dany / Dothraki
6. Dany gets blackmailed. (by who?)
7. A Sansa story
8. A Margaery story
9. A Cersei story.
10. An Arya story.

I’m keeping the prompts somewhat vague, feel free to add specific details you’d like to see. Or add completely new prompts, or ones that are no longer on the list if you like.
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Daenerys Misadventures