The Wolf Girl & the Kraken | By : True North Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 1126 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice & Fire, and I make no money from this story. |
It was a bright autumn day in the northlands. The lord paramount, along with his boys, and youngest daughter, gathered at the stables of Winterfell.
Normally, Ned would’ve stayed in castle grounds and sent his men to go on ranging parties every other week. Today was a special one, however. Arya’s nameday. Against the wishes of Septa Mordane and Lady Catelyn, the nameday girl was to be treated by joining their scout.
The hulking dark brown destrier was for the warden of the north himself. His son Robb had the young destrier, sporting an auburn coat to match his own locks of hair. Jon’s mount was a white coated courser. Theon also had a courser, iron-grey in color. Last, but not least, Arya had the silver spotted garron. The smallest of them all, but sturdy and agile enough to keep up with all the others.
By the time she approached the mount, Theon had just got done fastening a new saddle, unfamiliar to her eyes. She raised a brow, “... What happened to my saddle?”
“You’ve got a new one,” the Greyjoy ward peered down at the girl, “Happy nameday,” he patted the surface and stepped away.
At first, she wasn’t sure what to say about the surprise gift. There was nothing wrong with the previous saddle, other than it being worn down and falling apart at the seams. Besides that, she had been accustomed to it.
This one had more of a curvature. Embellished on the sides were a decoration of crisscrossed lines, resembling the direwolf neck of their house banner. She remembered all the other gifts from earlier, they weren’t so delightful; a silk dress from Lady Catlyn, a bow hair tie from Sansa, and a little doll from Jayne Poole. It was dreadful enough pretending to be grateful.
The others mounted up on their horses and began to clip clop away. As Theon was about to wander off, he noticed the nameday girl still standing there.
“What’s wrong, need me to carry you again?” he asked.
She blinked. “No, I can do it myself." Lifting the hem of her silly northern dress, and without revealing too much of her pale thighs, the nameday girl brought one foot onto the stirrup and climbed over in one swift motion. Positioning herself on the curved leather surface, a blushing expression came to her face... Seeing the difference was one thing, but feeling it was another.
Before walking away to tend to his own, Greyjoy paused and took notice her pause. “Well, how does it fare?” he asked the lady.
Before answering, Arya instinctively rolled her little hips upon the new saddle, several times more than what a well-behaved highborn girl should have. The gesture made Theon’s eyes perk in amusement, eyes not unfamiliar to unladylike behavior, both young and mature, but this was coming from a highborn... Even better. He failed to conceal a grin on his face, peaking around to see if others might have caught what she did.
The girl suddenly halted when realizing the older boy was watching. “Uhm…,” she uttered with a little smile, faint blushes appeared on her cheeks, “I... - I like it.”
Theon smirked knowingly, “Heh, I bet you do,” he replied.
Jon, already gathered with the others, called out from afar, “What’s going on over there? We’re about to leave!”
Theon casually walked away to the courser and mounted up to join the rest. As the portcullis opened, the noble retinue along with twenty grey shielded guardsmen, made their way out of the southern gate.
Following the rest of the band, Arya imagined the Septa would have been repulsed. The old prude once taught a lesson about proper sitting etiquette for ladies, how they were supposed to keep their legs closed. Septa Mordane was even more strict than Lady Catelyn was, and it came as no surprise that she too wasn’t enthused by her going horseback riding in the first place. Arya attempted to hide a grin but surrendered, allowing it to spread as wickedly as her legs.
The heavy gate closed behind them. Several dozens of hooves thumped upon the grassy terrain as they embarked down the cold sloped road. Ned Stark was towards the front, next to his eldest son Robb. Behind them was Jon Snow and Theon side by side.
“Think we’ll spot any Wildlings this time?” Greyjoy asked the bastard.
“Possibly,” answered Jon.
“Hopefully we do,” Theon grinned, “Perhaps a pretty one this time. The other ones we found made swine look attractive...”
Jon frowned at him, “A pretty one? What good would that do for them?”
He shrugged, “I don’t know, perhaps I can convince your lord father to keep her hostage, work as a kitchen wench.”
“A kitchen wench, so that she can poison us.” Jon argued.
Theon sighed and smirked, a hint of disappointment in his face, “Snow, where’s your sense of enthusiasm?” He spoke it as more of a statement rather than a question.
Snow knew what his real intentions were, after so many of his frequent boastings. But the bastard had grown tired of entertaining the prospect. Sex was not for him, especially with some treacherous wildling.
Theon peered over his fur cloaked shoulder to spot where the nameday girl was tucked away. She was almost to the very back of the party. The ward boy slowed down his pace.
“Having fun there, nameday girl?” Theon jested.
Arya glanced to where the voice came from. In response, her tongue stuck out at him, defiantly.
Greyjoy smirked, “I take that as a yes.”
“Guess what,” said the Stark.
Curiosity made his brow perk up, “What?”
“I’m not wearing anything underneath.” she whispered.
The statement made even him blush. “... Are you serious?”
Arya smirked in a naughty sort of way. Her expression alone was enough to indicate the truth. Theon remembered from years ago, when she was about eight or nine, how she used to play a secret little game. It was played out in the open while no one was watching, she would quickly lift her dress, revealing her exposed hairless cunt in front of him. It was the first cunt he ever laid his virgin eyes upon. Their game continued for weeks, if he recalled, until Septa Mordane caught view and put a sudden end to it. For several months afterwards, the Septa would randomly bring the little girl aside to prove that she was wearing the proper undergarments. It was ordered by Catelyn to do so.
When did she start doing it again? Greyjoy pondered.
As the ward boy paused in silence, the highborn girl leaned forward and picked up haste. The wind brushed through her dark brown hair as she cantered across the highlands. Theon’s eyes trailed after she took off.
She pursed her lower lip and tugged the reins, cantering faster. She began catching up to the others and surpassed them one after another.
"Would you look at that,” Robb announced, “we're getting bested by the smallest horse!” he barked out and chuckled.
Everyone was humble enough to let Ned’s nameday daughter ride freely. Everyone except Greyjoy, however. He began to gallop ahead as well.
Peaking over to the side, she saw him nearing. The hooves pummeled the wet grass, side by side.
“Just give up, you can’t win!” She barked through the passing brisk wind.
And through the sounds of thundering hooves, the older boy responded, “Hah, could win if I tried!”
Behind them, the rest of the party became a tiny cluster of dark northern cloaks at a distance. The gap furthered apart as the pair galloped together.
When Theon’s courser matched the speed of Arya’s garron, she began squeezing her thighs, cantering swiftly. Soon enough, she was ahead by several yards. “Or did you come all this way, hoping to see something else?” she teased, picking up haste.
The momentary victory soon faded when the iron ward boy slowly caught up to her side again with his longer legged beast. Greyjoy glanced over, panting through rushing winds. “To be honest, I don’t know if I can go any faster than this!” he admitted.
“Haha! Then give up!” Arya drew in her lower lip again, eager to be the victor. They were evenly matched, it seemed.
But then... something changed.
Theon looked over his shoulder when her silver horse unexpectedly slowed down. “Heh, giving up, are we?” Theon bantered. But then he noticed a change in Arya's expression, something was wrong. “... Hm?”
She was unable to respond. The accumulation of cantering over two and half miles had crossed her over a threshold. As her saddle bumped up and down a few more times, her mouth dropped open. Arya began having her first orgasm. . .
Losing control, she leaned forward loosely, eyes closed, skinny legs twitching on both sides. She nearly lost enough balance to fall off, but luckily, regained just barely enough senses to keep herself on top. The older boy slowed down as well, near enough to see her expressions, almost in disbelief. The garron trotted slowly and whinnied.
Her deep respirations came back to normal, a mixture of wonder and confusion in her blinking eyes.
The ward boy was flustered in awe.
From the trail behind them, the sound of pummeling hooves caught up to them. Theon peered over his shoulder and saw the rest of the noble scouting party arrive. Robb and Eddard came to halt first, the others behind them followed suit. “Is everything all right?” asked Robb.
Nameday girl was blushing with no answer. Theon tactfully came up with a cover. “Aye, everything is all right. She just lost balance, that’s all.”
The lord paramount glanced between his little daughter and the ward.
“Is that right?” Eddard asked Arya just to make sure.
The daughter nodded in agreement, looking down, clearly embarrassed.
Ned sighed. Always in her nature to refrain from admitting to a slip up, especially when it came to something well practiced. “Well then, at least try not to stray too far off.” He spoke without judgement.
Arya’s mind danced around the sensation that had just released from within, all eyes upon her didn’t make things easier.
Ned trotted a few steps forward until he was at the front of the band. “Let’s circle back to the castle.”
The whole retinue did as was directed and followed the lord paramount. The pacing was slow for the rest of the journey back to Winterfell, Arya didn’t say a word, and once again stayed close to the back of everyone else. She wondered if everyone had slowed down just for her. If that were the case, then it would be even more cause for embarrassment. The last thing Arya wanted for a ranging party was to be a burden.
The saddle bumped up and down for the next mile and a half, a constant reminder of her accident. She was tempted to try it again, whatever that feeling was, but with more balance. The pleasure inside was unlike any other. At first, she thought it was just a full bladder getting ready to pour. But it soon melted into a completely different beast. The way her insides contracted with a life of its own, causing her to quiver and accidentally moan.
And Theon was watching too. She remembered how he tactfully covered for her when the others arrived in question. Does he know something? Arya pondered. There were so many questions. As her mind danced to different things, all the while getting acquainted with her new saddle, she happened to be staring up ahead aimlessly, towards the iron ward boy. Strange feelings stirred.
The band of horses approached the south gate, the guards opened it up. Everyone reached the stables and dismounted. “Unsaddle the horses and rack them up,” Eddard instructed his ward.
“Yes, milord,” he obeyed and went over to each one.
As everyone strolled away from the stables and went for the Great Keep, the nameday girl stayed behind. He unfastened the leather straps, one after another, and hung them onto the banisters. Just when he thought he was alone, the nameday girl was standing near him, pursing her lower lip as usual.
A light smile went to his face. “Forget something?” Theon asked while unfastening the next one over.
“Uhm. Thank you for earlier,” the words finally came, eyes looking nowhere in particular.
“Thank me? What did I do?” he questioned.
“You lied for me ... when I didn’t know what to say,” she said with a frown.
“... Oh, that.” he grinned. “Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. You really did lose control.”
She was unsure of what to say.
Theon approached the spotted garron next. As he loosened the straps and removed the saddle... something caught his eye, and it made him blush. Never would he think to see such a thing. There was a little splotch on the top surface. He paused; a devilish grin went to his Greyjoy face. “Looks like you wet yourself...” he pointed out, holding the leather harness low for her to see.
It was noticeable and she blushed. “It wasn’t piss; I swear it!” she defended.
“Keep it down,” Theon whispered a chuckle in amusement. “I know it wasn’t piss...”
The naïve girl blinked at him, waiting for an explanation.
“Look, I really shouldn’t be talking about this with you...,” he glanced around again, making sure there was no one there. “It’s called cum...” he spoke the word in hushed tone, “You were cumming.”
Perplexed, Arya repeated the word. “... Cumming?”
Theon nodded.
“Is it ... natural?” she queried.
Theon still wrapped his mind around the fact he was even speaking to a highborn lady about such a lewd thing. The lecherous part of him was tempted to ask her how good it felt.
“Aye, it is natural,” the older boy nodded and explained. "It just means your body is growing up.”
She nodded slowly, grasping the whole prospect. “I see...” It was a lot for her to take in, and given the look on her face, she was intrigued, excited, and embarrassed all at once. Before letting her mind wander off, she realized Theon was still holding the saddle.
“You should clean up your mess,” he brought it closer, “... Unless you prefer I do it.”
She peered at the slippery fluid and wiped it up with her dress sleeve.
Theon laughed, never disappointed by her immodesty. After it was wiped, he placed it away with the others.
It gave the girl a sense of comfort, seeing how casual he was about all of this. Who else would offer the same? She couldn't help but think back to how it felt, the sensation of it, how overwhelming it was.
“You better not tell anyone about this.” Arya warned.
“Heh. Your secrets are safe with me,” Theon assured. “Just like how I never told anyone about you lifting your dress when you were little.”
A toothy grin came to her face, admiring his loyalty, and remembering those times she flaunted.
“You going to lift it now?” he daringly asked.
“You would like that, wouldn’t you,” Arya teased with a smirk, looking around for a moment, and grasping the dress with both hands but without lifting.
Theon’s heart raced for a moment as he glanced down, half expecting her to do it. His Ironborn eyes were filled with curiosity, but then he shook out of it and restrained himself. This is Ned Stark’s little daughter we’re talking about here. Get a hold of yourself, Theon! You are a glorified hostage, nothing more!
“Nevermind. We should head back now,” he stated nervously with a sigh, “Don’t want the others knowing we’ve gone missing together.”
Arya blinked at the sudden change of his demeanor, a hint of disappointment, but she let go of the dress and nodded.
Supper at the Great Hall was filled with a collection of delicacies, drinks, chatter, and laughter. There was a lot more of crowd this time around, even for a nameday. Many wondered why the lord paramount invited so many. Their answer would come soon enough.
The northerners drew to a silence when Lord Eddard stood up from his highchair, a goblet carried in his hand.
"Friends, family, and honored guests," his voice resonated through the hall. "I thank you all for joining us to celebrate a joyous occasion, the twelfth nameday of my daughter, Arya Stark."
Ripples of cheers and raised horns swept across the gathering. “Has she bled yet!” barked a drunken lord from a minor vassal house in the crowd. The jape responded with a few hearty chuckles. Ned’s wife Catelyn simply shook her head with a sigh.
"... As we revel on this day," Ned continued, “let us also look ahead, for it holds both promise and challenges." He paused, allowing the words to sink in.
"In the coming month, Winterfell shall have the honor of hosting our king, Robert Baratheon. I extend to you all... an invitation to join us in welcoming him."
A heavier wave of cheers echoed through the Great Hall. Catelyn subtly raised her cup as well, a look of uncertainty tucked behind a smile. She knew something the guests didn’t know.
"Let us prepare ourselves. For in his presence, we will honor the bonds of kinship for our noble houses.” The Warden of the North concluded, raising his drink to everyone.
The gathering raised their ale horns up high with a loud cheer followed by long hearty gulps.
The feast lasted awhile longer. Impatienty, the nameday girl slipped away from the trestle table and went out the large opened doorway.
Passing through, one of the door guards spoke, “My lady, the celebration isn’t over yet.”
She scowled at the guard and retorted, “Yes, it is.”
Crossing through the courtyard, the holy Sept gazed at her from a distance. Through the stained-glass windows, its judgement could have been sensed, had she taken to those gods. But Arya continued striding away as much as her silly dress would allow.
After climbing three flights of stairs of the Great Keep, she finally made it to her bedchamber.
The young girl took a deep breath. Crossing the room, she went over to the bed and grabbed hold of a cushion. Ironically enough, it was a gift from two years ago, neatly woven together by Septa Mordane.
A grin went to her face, imagining how the Septa would react to what she was about to do. Arya placed the pillow in the center of the bed.
Sitting atop the fur blanket, she unlaced the strings of her northern gown, sliding them off and carelessly dropping them aside. Her boots and stockings came off next.
Naked as her nameday, Arya climbed on top of the pillow and situated herself in a comfortable position. A shiver of excitement went through her body.
Without another moment of hesitation, she locked into position and started humping...
Straddling was nothing new, having been practicing horseback riding since she was nine. But humping... Humping was new, especially with intention.
Arya pursed, finding her sweet spot, caressing upon the fabric. Holding the front end of the cushion, she leaned forward a bit while riding up and down. A soft moan escaped her lips.
Theon snuck into her imagination...
His cocksure grin from earlier. Wondering how the older boy would react to what she was doing. If he would enjoy watching or simply tease her as usual.
He wasn’t too disgusted by earlier, it seemed, even after the embarrassing mess. It pleased her to know that.
Several minutes had passed into her naughty assault. By this point, her nethers were flushed in pleasure. Arya bounced her bare cheeks up and down, legs opened wide. After a few more humps, she again sensed the familiar sensation within, unable to be tamed, wild as ever. She gasped, still unprepared by the enormity. Her mouth dropped open.
Losing all control, her second release came out and spread across her arms and legs in glorious waves of pleasure.
In blushing wonder, Arya dismounted from the soiled pillow. Opening her thighs, she reached down in between where the pink lips were flushed and sensitive. She quivered deeply in the heat of naughty arousal, perplexed by the discovery of what her body can feel. It took her a moment to regain composure.
Thinking back to what Theon described earlier, more questions began to come up. But without wondering for too long, Arya mounted up again.
This time, she intentionally slowed her rhythm, savoring the teasing sensation, deeply rolling her bare hips, to and from.
Thoughts came to mind. She imagined how common of a practice this was for anyone her age. She imagined Septa Mordane catching her in the act... Several others came to mind. Old Nan, the Maester, and the well-behaved Sansa. The embarrassment of being caught by them.
Pursing her lower lip and spreading legs wide, the pleasure within grew, she felt it coming closer and closer. “Oh, gods...” she whimpered, blushing.
Two knocks sounded on the door. She jolted with a gasp, legs instinctively closed, as much as the cushion would allow at least.
“Arya?” a muffled voice spoke from behind the wooden door.
"Y-yes? ...” she attempted to sound completely natural. The cushion snugged underneath her bare ass when she pressed both legs together accidentally caused her floodgates to open.
“It’s me, Jon. Are you all right?” he spoke. “You left the celebration early.”
The nameday girl swiftly brought a hand up to her mouth, covering any concerning noises that might have escaped. Her eyes twitched when her orgasm finally started taking its course.
Jon spoke again. “Can I come in?”
The wild girl was utterly overwhelmed by a series of involuntary spasms, there was no way to speak in a coherent manner. Her watery eyes blinked open, finally registering that Jon asked to come inside.
“N -No!” she squeaked. “Not now! ...”
There was a pause after the reply which sounded like distress.
“Very well then,” Snow said. Not another word came after that, he must have walked away.
She panted and wheezed. The aftershock sensations of her orgasm faded. She dismounted and lay flat on the coverlets.
That was so close... She respired and calmed, thoughts danced around about what just happened.
Laying naked, she started giggling hysterically.
---
Next chapter: Theon's Favorite Toy
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo