human
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It was beautiful the way the smoke blossomed over Kingslanding. Billows of black trickled up into the azure sky, fed by the angry orange of the wildfire below, while it burned fiercely. The stench of charred flesh was already reaching Cersei's nose as she looked on. Triumph coursed through her veins. Yes, it was a good day to be a Lannister.
As Cersei watched on, her victory clear as the last of the Tyrelle's went up in flames. Ironic, she thought, but exactly as they deserved. How could anyone expect her to sit idly by while that whore paraded herself around and made a mockery of her entire family. It had started with Joffrey and then Tommen. Then, that blue eyed bitch somehow came out unscathed by the High Sparrow's inquisition. Surely his mercy was ill given. No matter. Victory now was hers once more.
A tiny smile tugged at the corners of Cersei's lips. She brought the goblet up to her full lips and sipped. The wine was sweet, a vintage worthy of her blood as she drank it down and basked in the glow of a battle won. Soon she'd be queen and all of the seven kingdoms would kneel unto her. Her dark eyes narrowed as she thought of Margaery burning alive, her very flesh melted from her bones. Would she go slowly or fast? She longed for the former and hoped her screams resonated out toward the Narrow Sea.
Suddenly, Cersei's thoughts were interrupted. Her dark eyes caught sight of something small and strange, like a falling star. It hovered over her masterpiece, glinting in the sunlight. It began to sway and was soon swallowed up by the cover of smoke.
"Magic?" Cersei gasped, agitated that her one person revelry was being cut short. She set down her goblet and rubbed her hands against the lush green fabric of her dress. Just what had that thing been? Where had it come from and why did it linger over the fire? A chill ran along her spine and she set off to find the only one who could protect herthe Mountain.
Meanwhile, as the smoke curled around carcasses and rubble, Margaery reached out her hand and touched her head. She felt dizzy, like she was about to be sick. Her insides twisted as the world all but turned about her. She blinked her blue eyes, everything slowly coming into focus. There was a bump on her head, her clothes practically ash as they draped over her flawless pale skin. Just what had happened?
Margaery glanced around, the putrid smell of death wafting everywhere, filling her nose and making her suddenly dry heave. So many faces and most of them she knew. But all were lifeless dolls, blackened flesh that smoldered and burned. She let her other hand move to the necklace she wore about her neck, the strange pendant cool to the touch despite the fire encircling her.
Coughing, Margaery let fatigue take over. She let go of the pendant and dropped to all fours. She arched her back as she stretched, the fires slowly dying. She peered through the dancing flames, her eyes locking with another's. It was then that she realized that she wasn't alone.
gpt
Conquer and destroy. That was the motto ofthese life-forms. It was not always their intent, but very slowly their female population was dying out, which would eventually lead to the death of their race. That was why several groups of their species had branched off to different planets, finding hosts to breed with so they would survive. While one group went to a planet known as Earth, this group ended up in a world known as Westeros.
While the initial intent was to kill every man and breed every woman, something called out to them in what seemed to be the central location of this world. When they arrived, they found a woman naked and unconscious in the middle of ash, the necklace of their people wrapped around their neck. One by one, their kind knelt, leaving just one male left, watching Margaery as she slowly began to move.
A strange garble of sounds eminated from the creature's mouth, sounding almost like a radio changing frequencies. Eventually it seemed to find the correct frequency, speaking in perfect English. "Hello. My name is Vy'Ken. We are of the Sumoro race, distant warrior beings that seek to rebuild our kind. That necklace along your neck signifies your standing as our queen, and we shall forever serve you." His voice was deep, though he stood around the same height as Margaery - his forehead made up a lot of the difference. Once the Queen was informed of her new position, Vy'Ken knelt, standing in front of the rest of his kind. It was clear that he was their leader, at least up until now.
Beside the kneeling aliens was a ship. It seemed too small to start with, until you noticed the crater it had made where it landed. At the base of the ship was pure ash, likely from the many charred bodies that the ship had destroyed. The smoke from the wildfire explosion hid their presence, though likely would not hide their escape.
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Margaery tilted her dark head, blue eyes wide as she stared into eyes deep set on a face unlike one she'd ever seen. Heshe was certain the creature before her was some sort of manwas strangely beautiful as if he'd fallen from a distant star high up in the heavens. Perhaps the seven gods had sent him to her, to guide her as she woke from the flames encircling her body. She'd heard rumors of the 'dragon mother', 'the storm born' living in exile across the sea. Dragons could not burn...yet, somehow she did not burn despite her lack of Targaryen blood. This was a sign that she belonged on the iron throne, that she was destined to rule.
She knew it with all her heart.
The starman stepped closer, dark eyes blinking as his mouth began to move. Margaery took note of how his muscles rippled and moved. He was pure strength and fluid grace. His voice was soothing, so unlike Tommen's. Where was Tommen? She licked her lips, her eyes flitting toward the ground as she listened to the strange speech, which suddenly became understandable. Her cheeks reddened when she realized she was naked, bare and vulnerable, exposed to this strange being's scrutiny. The only thing remaining was the necklace she'd found, a small trinket she'd discovered before coming to Kingslanding to be wed to Joffrey. She'd delighted at the find, flaunting the precious pendant any time she could. Loras had often teased her about the jewels, finding her in bed wearing nothing but the pendant and chain. Most might have thought it improper for the two to see each other in such a state, but she had no shame and the bond she'd held with her brother was strong.
Loras! Where was he? Margaery felt her eyes prick with tears as the memory of what had happened began to set in. Loras had just confessed, one of the High Sparrow's most devoted having mutilated his flesh in front of all to witness. She'd sensed the danger then, everyone else oblivious...even Loras. How had she survived? How had she become a dragon? She hardly knew as she stood there before the starman, a hand reaching up to touch the treasure about her neck.
"Queen?" Margaery asked, her hand falling to her side. She'd thought the necklace a simple indulgence, not something from afar, that set her apart. Slowly, she approached the strange, yet beautiful man, her eyes glimpsing more of his kind kneeling before her. Behind the man who held her attention was a glittering palace. She'd never seen anything like it. "Is that my palace?" she asked pointing toward the craft. "Am I to stay there?" She had so many questions, her head swimming with this new reality set before her. Not one to let an opportunity go, she reached out her hand toward the starman. "Take me home."
~~~
*Three months later...*
The sky was pearly gray, a damp chill in the air. Winter was coming and it hardly mattered how far south one traveled. The bitter air followed along with the fear. Sansa sat close to the crackling fire, though she'd been told not to let the flames get too high. They called attention to unwanted things and she'd unfortunately dealt with her fair share of the unwanted. A shiver ran along her spine just then, as she rubbed her hands together and tried to stave off the cold.
Just a few feet away, Sansa watched her new guardianan unlikely protectoras he set about their modest 'camp'. Suddenly, she heard a soft rustle, her head turning quickly at the sound. She pushed her fiery hair out of her eyes and immediately caught sight of a monster! They'd been nearly everywhere, stopping at nothing until they fed on your flesh, gnawed at your bones. The thing gurgled and sputtered as it approached, causing her to gasp and try to move away.
Sansa tripped over a fallen branch, landing with a hard thud against the cold, unforgiving ground. But the monster didn't hesitate, didn't stop. It's lifeless eyes were trained on her body, on her pale skin as her dress hiked up about her thighs. To him, she was nothing but warm blood coursing through veins as her heart pumped and her chest heaved. "S-sandor!" she cried, tears already staining her cheeks, tiny hands pushing at the frozen dirt, while she tried to get away. But the monster was nearly upon her, his rotted mouth gnashing at the sight of her pretty flesh.
Sansa whimpered as a decaying hand grabbed her ankle, desperate to get her close enough so his teeth could sink into her porcelain-pale skin. He was strong and his breath putrid. Suddenly she felt stupid for asking for the small fire.
"Ser Sandor!" Sansa sobbed again as she covered her head and braced herself to meet the inevitable, to meet the only thing welcoming her in such a dire momentto meet death.
gpt
Sandor Clegane, labeled as a monster by many, was one of the last men surviving in this goddamned world. He lived to fight, to show his strength and hide the weaknesses his brother brought out of him as a child. He had tried to stay away from humanity his whole life, yet now that it was crashing down, he just wished it would all return. Now not only was he a monster, but he was responsible for keeping the monsters away from young Sansa Stark.
They had met once again soon after the fall of humanity. She had fled Ramsey Bolton, the self-proclaimed Lord of Winterfell and the North, and managed to find herself in the arms of Sandor. When he had heard the despicable acts that the Bolton boy had done, the Hound wanted to tear out his throat. But soon realised he wouldn't need to, as the rising dead would soon do that for him.
In the present day, the armoured man was setting up camp. Not much really needed to be done, but Sansa wanted a fire, and he wanted as far away from there as possible. It was a good thing that he remained somewhat close to her, however, as soon the rotting dead made an appearance. "Ser Sandor!" He heard Sansa whimper, and he ran closer. Grabbing an axe he had been using to chop wood with earlier, the weapon was swung hard. Several feet away the top half of the monster's head landed, brain and blood splattered across their camp site.
Hearing a low growl behind him, Clegane's armoured elbow smashed hard into the monster's weakened skull, almost managing to kill it like that. But it still moved, so a hard slam of the foot onto the monster's head soon killed it too. Hopefully it remained that way.
"Are you alright, child?" His voice called to her, using the corpse's clothing to wipe the blood off his boot and axe. Slamming the weapon into a nearby tree trunk, the large man knelt by her side, uncharacteristically gentle as he looked over her legs to ensure there were no marks. "It didn't get you, child, you're safe." He said softly, sitting down on a log that was used as a seat for the two of them. Sighing softly, he grabbed the canteen, pouring water all over his face and into his mouth. "You need to be closer to me from now on... that one was too close. And if you were to... yeah..." He trailed off, staring out into space.
human
Those rotten fingers, those decrepit hands! For being death, they grabbed hard and fast and without mercy. Sansa was beside herself, her life flashing before her pale blue eyes. And just what kind of life had she truly lived? Well, it hadn't gone the way it was supposed to at all. She remembered a happier time when she'd been clueless of Joffrey's true and very cruel nature. It had been the pinnacle to trigger the cascading bouts of sorrow her life would hold from that moment forward. No one could be trusted and all wanted her to suffer. And now, with the world turned upside down, she was nearly certain that this was the end.
Just as Sansa had accepted that this was how things would end, she heard the quick squelch of meat and snap of spine. She dared herself to look as the hands holding her went slack and the head rolled past. Sandor Clegane, the Hound, dog of the Lannister family, had made quick work of the monster. Breathing hard, she watched him stamp on the still thrashing head of the thing, its mouth moving, while its eyes rolled about in its eye sockets.
Just who had this creature been? Sansa wondered.
Sandor rushed to her side then, his eyes scanning, while his hands gently and carefully pulled down her dress. This wasn't the first time he'd saved her life, though she remembered the first time he had. It seemed so long ago, especially now. She'd been innocent of the world back then, experiencing her first true tastes of just how ugly her world was becoming. For a fleeting moment, she recalled the weight of that soldier as he'd tried to violate her body right there on the streets of Kingslanding. Sansa closed her eyes just then, pushing the memory away. But it had been the Hound who'd saved her honor that day...how she wished he'd been there that day she'd practically been sold into the custody of ruthless Ramsay Bolton!
Sansa opened her eyes, her body trembling hard. She watched Ser Sandor pull away as if she was something he couldn't touch, couldn't even look at. This seemed to be his way any time her life was threatened. Though why?
"I...I'm not a child," Sansa retorted, though her tone exhibited no anger, just frustration. Besides, Ramsay Bolton had made sure any innocence she might've had hidden away was taken just as brutally. But that was past and this was now. "But, thank you," she added, her eyes staring at the ground. "And, I'm sorry," she went on. She felt badly that Ser Sandor had to go out of his way for her, putting himself at risk each and every time. The fire had been a silly idea just as she'd been warned. Though why had he decided to indulge her, especially if it meant more danger to them both? She was a nothing now. Surely one girl didn't matter. However, Sansa was grateful. She always was.
Sandor moved to the nearby log and sat down, his expression one Sansa couldn't read. The man hardly seemed angry with her, yet he refused to look her way. Slowly, she stood up, shaking hands smoothing out the blues of her dress. She walked toward the knight, the one who defied a king the day he saved her life, her virtue.
"You...you said to stay close to you," Sansa whispered. She was shivering and frightened. Just how many more monsters were out there? She was convinced her entire life was one big nightmare, one filled with every sort of monster imaginable...even those pretty of face. At that, she joined Sandor and sat next to him. Without thinking, she laid her head against his shoulder, her body turning slightly toward his, daring to get close and crying out for comfort.
The Hound was warm, his presence soothing. Sansa reached over and let her arms hold onto his as she attempted to cuddle closer to the one person it seemed she could trust. She shook a little as she thought on how close she'd just come to death. But once again, Ser Sandor had been there.
He was always there now.
Sansa shivered as she tried to let herself relax, to get closer to the large knight. Tears began to fall suddenly and there she thought she'd none left to cry. But she couldn't help it. Terror had somehow been unleashed and she'd known nothing of happiness or comfort since. There was no changing her life or the past. But once, just once, she wanted a moment she could truly treasure.
But some treasures just didn't want to be found.
gpt
She was right, she was no child. Even if it weren't for the vile acts that forced her into adulthood, the many other aspects of her life from the loss of her family to the way that she lost her family in the first place made Sansa deserving of being an adult. Not that it would get you very far these days. At least in this world, you knew what these dead monsters wanted to do - kill you. In the 'good ol days', manipulation and money is what was most important.
Sitting at the log, Sandor began to remove his pieces of armour, throwing to the side as Sansa approached. Paying her no mind, his gauntlets were thrown with the rest, the last of his upper body. It would be too much effort to remove the lower half, plus you never know when you need your sword with you.
It was then that Sansa sat, cuddling up with the larger man. This sort of behaviour was... unfamiliar, to say the least. He stayed still, watching her with curious eyes as she began to cry. With hesitance, he raised an arm, wrapping it around the redheaded girl. He had been there for her many times, and he would do it for many more times. He just hoped that she would die from old age, instead of any number of monsters that were alive in this world today. Her death of anything other than natural causes would be his failure, and he did not like to fail Sansa.
Sitting down on the ground, and then rolling onto his back, Sandor Clegane welcomed Sansa to cuddle with him if she desired. He was going to sleep, tired from a day of hunting beasts - human and animal alike, and just needed some normality for once.
human
Warm, wonderful...safe. Those were the words flitting through Sansa's mind as the one called the Hound slowly placed a strong arm about her much smaller frame. She allowed herself to find solace in his arms as he held her, the fire beside them nothing but dying embers. It was a simple gesture, small hugs of reassurance and... She closed her eyes briefly, allowing herself to become lost in the moment. This bit of offered comfort was one he'd only succumbed to in the last week or so, though only when she seemed to cry. Nonetheless, she was glad of it, grateful for the kindness he showed her, the tiny indulgence despite the chaos. For a few moments she could pretend that her life wasn't in shambles, that she was a proud Stark and daughter of the north. But that life had long since disappeared. It had the day her father had fallen, her family torn apart until their blood drenched the Lannisters and any house who feared them. They were drunk on their misery, reveling in their despair. Yet somehow she was surviving, thriving in a world torn asunder.
As she lied there against Ser Sandor, Sansa had no doubt that she was a burden, nothing but a death sentence. The man would fare better on his own. He should've abandoned her by now, let her alone to die by the rotting hands of the hideous beasts skulking the lands.
He probably already knew that.
But, he didn't. No. Sandor Clegane had stayed. He'd been honorable and, most of all, loyal.
Slowly, gently, Sandor lowered himself onto the cold ground. It was hard and made Sansa shiver as the chill seeped deeply into her bones. She glimpsed his discarded armor, the shiny metal within his reach as he settled himself in for a rest. Knowing he wanted her close, she buried her face against his chest, curling up beside him. She brought one of her hands up to rest upon his chest as her body sought out his warmth. She let out a soft sigh, her blue eyes heavy with exhaustion and yearning for sleep. Trying to fight the fatigue, she looked up at her protector, memorizing his scars and the way his jaw was set. Once upon a time, she'd found him frightening. Now, he was the one thing that made her feel safe. The only thing. Her fingers gripped his shirt and she tucked herself even closer beside him knowing no harm would befall her so long as he was near.
gpt
*Meanwhile Amongst the Stars*
These intelligent life forms, which were alien to the world of Westeros, had began to kill off the men of this planet. Who needed them? It was the aliens that needed to breed, and they would only cause issues down the road. Walking past one particular trophy case, the zombified heads of Jon Snow, Stannis Baratheon, Tywin Lannister, and Eddard Stark groaned and growled at those nearby. These were some of the conquests they had taken for their own, but the women were just as plentiful.
Vy'Ken stood by the throne, one made of these human swords that his queen demanded they get. His queen sat upon it, waiting to observe the breeding of their first victim. Whoever the victim was, an outsider would not know, due to the bag thrown over the woman's face. A few moments later and the face was revealed to be none other than Cersei Lannister herself. She lay on a futuristic looking table. Sandwiched between two glowing blue sheets that acted solid whenever necessary, the tables could float and move at the alien's desire. That was helpful when laying victims on their backs or stomachs, or just making them stand upright, all without their consent.
"My queen. Here we have our first breeding subject, as you have commanded. She was elusive, but we got her. The one-handed human put up a challenge, but laser pistol beats sword." The deep voice of Vy'Ken smirked somewhat, as well as a small mouthed being could. "Usually we would begin our breeding procedure, but you suggested we try the human way first. Could you explain this procedure?" The alien requested.
Nearby she would notice many different machines with various pointy bits and tubes. Some of it looked as if it weren't meant for humans either. The aliens themselves wore no clothing, yet genitalia seemed none existent. When their queen had asked about this, Vy'Ken explained that it was retractable for the males, eliminating a large weakness of human males.
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One would expect to be cold when far away from home, but Margaery felt no chill crawling along her skin. As she sat on the Iron Throne, a deep sapphire gown like liquid silk was draped over her lithe body. Her arms were bare and the view of the stars was spectacular. Vy'ken had seemed eager she acclimate to this new position she held and she wasn't about to disappoint. One of her hands reached up to the pendant she wore, her slender fingers giving the cool metal sweet caresses. Yes, she'd lived for a reason and now the most revered of these beings was ever at her side. She had to admit that, though strange at first, she was quite happy to have him ever present. His body was so different, yet so familiar. It amazed her that he fell from a distant star. Often times, she found her eyes drifting, wandering and drinking him in. She found herself longing to see him aroused, free of restriction and one with emotions and sensation.
Vy'ken had said it was a sign of weakness to succumb to such emotions, but Margaery found that utterly perplexing. Her life had revolved around emotion, a never ending journey as life went through its ups and downs. And intimacy was something she craved. She'd nearly found it with King Tommen, but something had never set quite right with him. A part of her would always miss him, she supposed. But she couldn't forget the thrill she felt when she saw his crumpled form outside the palace when they'd gone to retrieve the throne. Almost instantly, she knew he'd taken his own life, the open window above facing the place where it had been intended for her to burn.
As Margaery spent more time with Vy'ken, she was determined to see another side of him. The one he held back and in check. Despite the strangeness, he was beautiful...the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. His body was like that of a predator, taut muscle sliding over bone. He seemed keenly aware of everything and everyone. She wondered just how far those senses truly reached. Her eyes moved to her starman companion. As their eyes fixed, she felt her cheeks grow warm.
He'd done it. Vy'ken had found Cersei Lannister and was about to subject her to their breeding regiment. Margaery's face grew hotter and a part of her suddenly panicked at the idea of Vy'ken giving the bitch any sort of pleasure. Then again, she figured Cersei wouldn't take kindly to these starmen, especially once they started exploring her body without her having a say in the matter. Margaery looked down at the ground, Cersei thrashing in the grip of one the warriors. She bit down on her lip and looked up at Vy'ken.
"Y-you won't be breeding with her, right?" Margaery asked, her tone honest and forthright. She looked back up into the starman's eyes and smiled shyly. "I...I think you can do better." She looked away again, a sizzling heat working its way across her skin. Her eyes fixed upon his retracted sex and suddenly she felt a small gush between her legs. Swallowing hard, she shifted a little, though the way her thighs rubbed together, it only served to heighten her arousal as she looked at Vy'ken.
"Tyrelle bitch!" Cersei seethed. She'd nearly found full victory. Just how had that cunt survived the wildfire? It was impossible! Then again, so we're these strange people.
Margaery looked over at the Lannister woman, their eyes finding each other despite the distance between them. The Tyrelle beauty inhaled sharply and then slowly exhaled. She touched Vy'ken's arm before standing up and moving closer to the bitch who'd intended to murder her.
"You must let yourselves free," Margaery instructed, insinuating that they let their sex out and no longer keep them retracted. Give in to the emotions swelling inside." She nodded, her long dark hair rippling along her back. "Don't be afraid to feel, to sense, to...to get lost in the pleasures your bodies are meant to experience."
"What?" Cersei hissed, she wanted to scream, to hurt that bitch as she spoke to these men.
Margaery once again looked at Vy'ken. Her own cunt was seething, but it had nothing to do with Cersei or revenge. She closed her eyes briefly and imagined her warrior letting go, succumbing to everything as he took her away as his own. Another small gush. Did these beings know arousal? Could they tell? She didn't know and hardly cared. The only one having an effect on her was the alpha who'd found her in the fire. How she hoped he'd have nothing to do with the others, that he'd only find true happiness and pleasure with her.
gpt
The aliens looked slightly confused at the instruction, attempting to follow it as best as they could. Their penises began to grow from between their legs, looking quite human. Whether this was part of the way the aliens were made, or how they adjusted to Margaery's presence was unknown. Despite the human appearance, their motion seemed like a snake held at one end, extremely floppy and long. Two aliens approached the naked Cersei, and began tapping their penises along her flesh, getting nowhere near any of the orifices that were required to mate.
At the question of if they could find a better mate, the lead alien gave a small shrug. "We shall breed with as many women as we can, and I can sense that this one in particular has given you trouble in the past. It will please us to breed with the woman that gave you so much issues, contributing the the race that you command." Vy'Ken explained. As much as Margaery may not think Cersei would work with the breeding process, having her birth and raise alien cubs would be ultimately humiliating to the previous Queen Regent, and a lot better end for her than a quick death.
As Vy'Ken watched the two aliens work on Cersei, he looked a little confused, looking toward the Queen. Nervous to speak against her, he softly spoke. "This is an... odd way for humans to mate."
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"Hrm," Margaery sighed as she watched the two starmen with Cersei. She looked at Vy'ken, her own body aching for his at the thought of them breeding with each other. If only he'd give in and become one with the passion she was sure lingered inside...dormant and yearning for release!
"What is this?" Cersei shrieked. But Margaery ignored her completely. Instead, she glanced over at Vy'ken as an idea formed in her mind.
Margaery looked up into Vy'ken's eyes, her cheeks warm as a rosy flush washed over her pale skin. "Permission to touch?" she asked, suddenly shy, especially as her thoughts began to drift. There was something about him that made her worry that she wasn't good enough and she actually feared his rejection. Licking her lips, she stood in front of her starman companion. She reached behind her neck and undid a clasp that allowed her filmy gown to fall into a puddle at her feet.
Margaery stepped out of her dress and turned away from Vy'ken for a brief moment. She gave the others a tiny smile.
"No. No," Margaery said softly. "First, notice how I am different from the woman you hold," she began. She gently touched her own breasts and let her hands slide down along her ribs until the rested at the juncture between her legs. Cersei just growled angrily as Margaery began her demonstration. "However, we all have the same parts," she continued. "Some parts when touched will earn you reward." A smile grew on her lips. She then turned toward Vy'ken and placed one hand on his shoulder and the other down where she knew his cock was retracted, hoping to coax it out with her touch. She hoped this didn't anger him.
Margaery carefully touched and prodded Vy'ken and then lifted her leg for him and the others to see. "This," she stated. "Is what you seek." She gestured toward her slicked sex, which dripped with her juices at the thought of tempting Vy'ken. It seemed an impossibility, but she could hope. There was no shame in that. She then let her fingers probe her swollen sex, spreading it wide for all to see.
"Perverted, whore!" Cersei shouted.
Margaery ignored the Lannister woman and then let one of her fingers brush against her clit. She couldn't help but groan. "This bit of flesh loves attention," she instructed and turned to face Vy'ken. "So do these," she continued and presented her breasts. "I'm sure you'll learn more as you study." With reddened cheeks, she propped her leg up a bit more. "Seek out that hole, thrust yourself inside." Margaery's heart was racing. "Pump your hips until the desire to do so leaves you." Her eyes were fixed on Vy'ken's. "I promise that you won't be sorry."
gpt
"Of course, my Queen." Vy'Ken replied, his tone incredulous as if wondering why she even had to ask. She was his Queen, and he would allow her to do anything to him. He would die by her hand if that was her wish. Watching her work with the aliens, revealing her bits and explaining everything to the other intelligent life forms. Nodding slowly in understanding, the alien behind Cersei put his snake-like penis against her cunt, thrusting against it but not penetrating. It was clear he was still doing it wrong as the tip of his cock could be seen above her ass from every thrust forward. On the other end of her body, the second alien was simply rubbing his crotch against Cersei's face, occasionally getting saliva on it.
At the soft touch at his groin, Vy'Ken could feel himself slowly grow out from between his legs. His penis, the same beautiful array of colours as the rest of his skin, waited to be used. His reaction did not change, though it was up for debate if that was a good or bad sign. He didn't seem overly pleased, but was not angered either. He was an emotionless species, so perhaps there was no 'sign' to be seen from this action.
Vy'Ken, standing the closest to Margaery, closely observed his Queen's actions. From what he studied from humans, revealing their bodies with no clothing was an intimate action, which showed she was confident with the other species of life around her. Taking an uncertain step closer, his gaze travelled from her lower lips to her eyes, his own looking like a boy in a candy store, except looking for knowledge instead of sweets. "May I.. examine you?" he asked, his long, slender fingers pointing towards her sex.
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"Unnggghh..." Cersei grumbled as the strange looking cock brushed her face. She thrashed her head from side to side as it moved over her lips. The other cock rested between her legs, rubbing against her sex, her clit. She felt anger as she noticed the little nub begin to throb with arousal. Her eyes locked onto Margaery, nothing but hatred flashing within them.
"No," Margaery said softly to the warriors holding Cersei. "The hole...push yourself inside it." She smiled and turned toward the curious Vy'ken. Flushed and starting to pant, she gave the starman a nod. "You will always be free to study me," she offered, though only to Vy'ken alone. He was the only one she wanted touching her.
Cersei continued her struggle, as the alien cocks rubbed over her face, her body. Suddenly, the tip of the one on her face found its way into her mouth. Her eyes narrowed, but she was unable to stop the sudden intrusion.
"T-touch here," Margaery instructed, pointing out her throbbing clit. At that, her free hand moved to brush against Vy'ken's slow growing cock. It was magnificent! How she longed for it! "Let your fingers explore the hole, the lips...all of it." She could hardly breathe as more of her juices dropped down her thighs, her body quivering, aching for Vy'ken's touch.
gpt
Nodding at the instruction, the two aliens finally managed to penetrate Cersei's pussy and mouth. Almost working like a seesaw with back and forth action, whenever a thrust went through the mouth, the alien at her pussy would pull out, and the reverse occurred too. Their penises were deceptively long, managing to get all the way down her throat and deep into her womb, ready for the breeding process. Unlike a human cock, where the skin had friction, the skin on the Sumoro aliens was impossibly smooth. It almost felt like Cersei was drinking water as the cock entered her throat, except for the part where it never entered her stomach. Also unlike a human, these cocks never grew hard to show complete arousal. Instead, they began to throb slightly, as if a heartbeat was right in the middle of their cocks. It began soft, but as their arousal grew, the beating intensified, which would make things a little more uncomfortable in the throat, but a lot more pleasurable with the sex.
Kneeling in front of Margaery, Vy'Ken tentatively reached closer to her pussy, its thumb running along her folds. Hearing the instruction to touch her clit, the other hand moved where she pointed, rubbing up and down on that one spot. The thumb along her folds was soon replaced with a finger, and not too long later, it entered her. His fingers were long and slender, so when it entered her, it felt like a decently sized but very skinny penis. Noticing the good reactions from that, a second and eventually third finger entered her too, thrusting in and out to see how that would make her feel. "Is this how the women of your land are stimulated?" He asked, watching her as his motions increased.
human
There was nothing Cersei could do. She was stuck and forced to take the alien cocks how ever they saw fit to give them. She gagged slightly as the one in her throat began to pulse. And she hated how her body betrayed her between her legs. "Stop...stop..." she said, her voice muffled, practically not understandable with the cock filling her mouth.
Meanwhile, Margaery suddenly grasped Vy'ken's shoulder. It was hard to hold her balance, while his fingers masterfully began to work up her body. "Y-yes," she admitted, her hips tilting toward his touch. "You keep up such ministrations and...and...uhhh..."
Margaery could hardly hold back as Vy'ken touched and explored. Her hips began to gyrate against his hands, making his fingers take her deeper, harder, more.
"Don't stop," Margaery begged. "Don't...unngghh..." she moaned. Her breasts bounced as she let all care go, riding Vy'ken's fingers without shame or care. She wanted this, needed it, her entire focus on her starman. "Vy'ken," she rasped, her cunt starting to spasm out of control. Just then, she shouted out, body trembling against Vy'ken's hand. She gushed all over it, having squirted hard at the intense stimulation. And to think that was just his hand. It made her long to feel his cock inside her, pumping against her hard and without relent. "Don't stop," she begged, biting down on her lip. "Please...more..."
gpt
Cersei was struggling as the longer the aliens took control of her holes, the harder their cocks pulsated. The alien at her front was the first to have a release, shooting his cum seemingly right into her stomach. It tasted pretty much the same as human cum, maybe a little more bitter. The thickness much more noticeable, but the biggest part was how it seemed almost like glue in her mouth. As he pulled out, the glue-like substance kept her mouth shut, it fighting against her the more she tried to open her mouth. From the little bit that dribbled out onto her lips and chin, the cum could be seen to be a similar colour to their skin, but much more transparent. The alien that had cum seemed to be quite premature, as the one fucking her from behind still was going strong, the pulsating going so strong that her whole body shook.
The way his Queen became speechless worried Vy'Ken greatly, fearing that she was becoming sick or dying. But she told him to continue, unsure of himself now. When she orgasmed, feeling her clench around his fingers, he stopped, wanting to check if she was alright. Before he had the chance to ask though, she almost aggressively begged him to continue. As she was his Queen, he did so, his fingering getting a lot harder. On occasion his arm would move faster than you could see, providing quick and very pleasurable thrusts, but they only lasted a second or so.
human
"Nngg...nnnggh!" Cersei barely managed to get out. The strange man pumping her mouth seemed to suddenly realize just what it meant to have her swallow him deeply, his cock seemingly buried to the hilt against her lips. She gagged a few times, but that didn't stop him. Just what was the agenda of these people? We're they people? She hardly knew and found she had no interest in learning. The one behind her was thrusting against her tight body, each one harder the more he pressed on. Was he enjoying this? Did they know how? Not that she cared. She wanted their bizarre hands off of her.
She wanted Jaime!
Cersei's dark eyes pricked with tears as she gasped for breath, her body forced to take all that the aliens were giving. She looked over at the Tyrelle bitch, her naked body glistening with sweat as she all but fucked the one creature's hand!
The perversion!
Tears rolled down Cersei's cheeks, the one administering to her mouth starting to hold her tighter, harder. He was going to cum. Oh by the gods, he was going to cum!
Meanwhile, Margaery was writhing against Vy'ken's hand. She had no idea how he was doing it, but her body had never felt such pleasure with just a simple brush of curious fingers. It was as if they knew her triggers, what would rile her to the point of no return. Never had she squirted so much or so hard. Her body was trembling, shivering and craving more. Forgetting that she wasn't alone, she began to outright fuck his hand, grinding against it as he rubbed and prodded.
"Just like that," Margaery rasped. "By the gods, just like that!" Her hips bucked wildly and she shifted to hold herself up as she moved. "More..." she begged, whimpering against Vy'ken's shoulder. Unable to stop herself, she licked at his neck, moaning as she found herself getting close to release once more.
Cersei's blood was boiling, anger and hatred emanating from from her every pore. If she could make it happen, she'd make Margaery Tyrelle pay. Full elimination seemed the perfect solution, if only it was possible. Being fucked and toyed with, she there was no way. Not now. But would there ever?
Suddenly, the cock in Cersei's mouth spurted in release. The starman grunted, letting his cum fill her mouth, her throat. As he pulled out, the other starman showed no mercy, his body crashing against hers as she tried to shout in protest. Her eyes went wide when she realized she couldn't. The cum was thick and sticky, like some sort of strange honey or molasses. Again, she struggled. Again, her attempts were in vain.
Margaery paid no mind to the others attempting human sex for the first time with Cersei Lannister. She was too occupied in all the sensations wracking her body as Vy'ken fucked her with his fingers. She was close again, her cunt pulsing until she finally fell over the edge into orgasm. She cried out as she gushed once more, the squelching sounds of sex loud in the room as Margaery rode out her second orgasm for the moment. She held onto Vy'ken quite tightly, her breaths short and labored.
"That," Margaery whispered. "Is just the beginning of how pleasurable human sex can be." Her face was flushed and she glimpsed the devices she was sure these starmen typically used. "You'll never want to use those contraptions again."
gpt
Vy'Ken caught Margaery as she began to collapse from her second orgasm, looking at her with concern. "Are you sure it isn't painful?" He asked, gazing at her flushed face. "Inability to talk properly, tightening body, uncontrollable spasms, uncontrolled release of liquids... it doesn't seem healthy." He commented, raising his fingers and eyeing them between their two faces. They glistened bright with her juices. "And now I have your liquids on me. What do I do with them?" he asked her.
As Cersei stared, she would feel the pulsating cock behind her as it shot thick loads right into her womb, likely impregnating her first try. Alien births took a lot less time than humans, despite there being a human host. It would only be a few weeks until she gave birth to her first child or children, and then she would be ready for her next breeding session.
human
Breathing heavily, Margaery looked deeply into Vy'Ken's black eyes. "Quite sure," she panted, her hands now holding onto his shoulders. Again, she glimpsed at the strange devices waiting to be use. Though she hoped none would see the light of day again. Such things were an abomination! No wonder they were having problems procreating. They needed to unlock their inner passions and desire. They needed to know that keeping a race alive could be overflowing with pleasure and not just duty, if they were willing to just let go and give in to instinct. She was glad that Vy'Ken seemed interested in understanding her way of thinking, her kind's way of being intimate in order to ensure the continuation of their existence.
It gave her hope.
Margaery could hear Cersei struggling behind her as the starmen utilized what they had and began taking their very first steps into a world filled with sensation. Of course, she hardly cared how Cersei felt about the whole thing. After all, the bitch was just a means to their end, a vessel to host a child and hopefully many more. The blonde cunt always did like being a mother. The very thought made Margaery laugh. Oh the irony!
"I assure you, I'm feeling no pain," Margaery explained. "Everything you heard and saw was quite normal." She blushed just then and averted her eyes. "And all those sensations? We crave it. There's still so much for you to learn and understand, so much that arouses us all." She looked back up into Vy'Ken's eyes. "Even you."
Cersei wanted to tear out Margaery's throat! How could she! She knew the girl was a whore, but this? This even went above and beyond her expectations of the Tyrelle bitch. This was humankind, not Lannister against Tyrelle. Desperately trying to open her mouth, she thought of her Jaime. She missed him deeply and wished he could throw open the metallic doors and destroy these creatures along with Margaery Tyrelle. But, his fate had already been sealed. Margaery made sure to show her his fate before having her locked away for several days in the dark and the cold. But no matter. She'd suffered dungeons before. She could handle much worse.
Just then, Cersei felt a sticky ooze dripping down along her thighs.
"We can do this again, you and I," Margaery offered Vy'Ken. "Anytime you wish. I...I'm at your disposal," she said. "For you."
~~~
"Brace the door!" Daenerys shouted. But it was too late. The latch was heavy and broken and it was impossible to reach any of the heavier furniture in time. She and her loyal handmaiden, Missandei, just weren't fast enough or strong enough to move such things and Tyrion, though he tried, was just as incapable.
Missandei felt panic rush through her, the burbling sounds of the monster getting ever closer. She looked at Tyrion, her eyes wild and her dark, curly hair all askew. The man had to think of something! He just had to! He was always scheming and had been such an asset to her queen before everything turned upside down. How she longed for the days when their greatest worry was figuring out the next attack by the Son's of the Harpy.
"By the gods!" Dany shrieked. Missandei was quickly by the pale woman's side. This just wasn't how she'd imagined things ending. Her Khaleesi had great plans of sailing back to Westeros. She'd begun the talks and had built an army of allies. Now they would all perish due to an army of monsters.
"Khaleesi," Missandei rasped as she tried to place herself in front of the pale woman.
Just then, the door broke down and five monsters entered the meeting room. They were trapped with no other place to hide. Dany grabbed Missandei's hand, holding it tightly as she braced herself for the inevitable. Meanwhile, Missandei looked over at Tyrion, her eyes pleading he find a way for all of them to come out unscathed. But it was foolishness. Not even the wisest of men could help them here.
They were resigned to a set fate. They were meant to die.
gpt
Curtis Smith walked through the town he had found, wanting to get in and out as quickly as possible. Ever since the monsters had rose, death had followed, and he did not seek to be the next in line. His upbringing as a fighter, and career as a sellsword worked in his favour, being able to take care of himself whenever he got into a sticky situation.
Ducking into one shop and then another, he was finding plenty of food that managed not to rot, as well as the food of some survivors that clearly did not make it, as shown from the gruesome remains left nearby. Thinking he was alone in this town, it was a shock to him when he heard the slam of a door opening, and the screams of more than one woman. Sighing and hating his good nature to help others, the man stood and sought out the commotion, finding two beautiful women huddled in a corner, with a dwarf desperately attempting to shoo the monsters away with a butter knife he managed to light on fire. Shaking his head at their idiocy for getting in this situation in the first place, he took care of the zombie closest to them first. Announcing his arrival silently, but with a quick throwing knife right to the brain.
The second and third were delayed by pushing the two together, and sliding the leg of a nearby chair through their weak flesh, holding them together while he took care of the last two. As he walked off to deal with the two heading for Daenerys and Missandei, he failed to notice Tyrion walking behind him and stabbing the two zombies in the brain with his butter knife.
The fourth zombie, which was very close to the girls now, was cleanly decapitated. Unfortunately, the falling body hit the bookshelf nearby, causing it to rock and land on top of Curtis, pinning his lower half. Finding a potential victim stuck, the zombie knelt down to get it's prize, and was met with a throwing knife in it's brain too. "Little help?" Curtis requested, looking at the trio he just saved. "Name's Curtis by the way." He added.
Tyrion watched the man struggle, observing him for weaknesses, strengths, and trying to understand his personality. "We spoke of this only two nights ago, Khaleesi." Tyrion said softly, though all could hear him. "We can't trust outsiders, they could turn on us. Leave him, and it shall delay the monsters from chasing us." His strong voice suggested, though his tone was full of regret.