Playing the Game (Game of Thrones)

The expedition to Valyria does come with one rather large downside. It’s the first time since meeting either of them that Jon hasn’t taken Daenerys or Bellegere with him. He simply isn’t willing to risk it, at the end of the day. Both women are visibly pregnant by this point, and with them in such a state, Jon has no desire to bring either into the Doom.
 
Leaving them behind in Meereen with Dany in charge was the right decision, he knew as much, but that didn’t mean Jon missed them all any less. He’d dragged them both from one end of Essos to the other after all, he’d gotten both of them pregnant with child. More than anything, Jon knew he had to come back to them both for those reasons at the very least.
 
Regardless, Daenerys had been unwilling to let him go without some token of her Will alongside him. While she’d ordered a vast portion of the Unsullied who now hung off of her every word to follow him and his Dothraki Hordes to Valyria, she’d also wanted a more… personal touch as well. Which was how Jon found himself waking up every morning with Missandei and Doreah working their tongues up and down his shaft in their own competitive way. And how he spent every night experiencing the pleasure of their bodies.

This was probably for the best, because it gave him a clear mind. A clear mind that made it all the easier to make the decision to move on through Mantarys quickly, rather than holding in the proclaimed City of Monsters for any length of time. Captain Dyniros was quite relieved that they weren’t sticking around the city for too long. Meanwhile, Jon got a few glimpses of just why Mantarys had the reputation it had.
 
Much of the population was indeed quite… deformed. There were people with two heads, there were people with multiple arms or legs. There were even people missing ears or noses or eyes, and even those who had three eyes instead of the usual two. Sometimes the deformities were as intense as the two heads example, sometimes they were as minimal as having four or six fingers instead of the normal five.
 
However, those were just the lower class of the city, as Jon was informed. In truth, Mantarys was apparently ruled by a collection of clans, each of whom had somehow mated their flesh with those of animals, or perhaps had their flesh mated with animals by the Old Valyrians before the Doom. There were some with eyes of a snake, or even the tail of one in place of legs. There were some with the ears and snout of a canine, with fur across their bodies and claws in place of fingers and finger nails.
 
These clans were many, though not limitless, and each one had some sort of strange hybridization to it, some sort of monstrous quality brought on by an animal aspect that they apparently considered sacrosanct, all their own.
 
Needless to say, these clans were apparently always at each other’s throat, which was probably why Mantarys could not possibly present a unified front to Jon and his armies. Luckily for the City of Monsters, he and his people were just passing through.
 
In the end, none of these clans ended up approaching the great Khal Jhono. Which was just fine with him, because he did not try approaching any of them either. His armies restocked and paid the city handsomely in gold for the opportunity, and then he and his forces made their way south, leaving the city behind within just a few days, rather than spending a week or two longer there as Jon had initially considered.
 
Honestly, he was plenty glad to put Mantarys behind him. As magical as his world had become ever since he’d reached adulthood, especially considering his dragons, Jon found himself rather turned off by the concept of these… animal people who were squabbling over Mantarys. Beasts should remain beasts and humans should remain human in Jon’s eyes. It was better that way and putting Mantarys distinctly in the past was just fine by his estimation.
 
Oddly… the further into the Valyrian Peninsula that they got; the stranger Jon’s dragons began to react. They were growing bigger by the day now, at a far faster rate then they had been before he and his had arrived in these lands. Was it something to do with the lands itself? Was it something to do with them being in Old Valyria now? They had yet to cross the Smoking Sea, but all the same, these were the Lands of the Long Summer.
 
They were making good time on their way to Oros, despite the grueling nature of their trek, but even at the best time, it would still take weeks. Weeks in which Jon’s dragons continued to grow and grow… and weeks in which Doreah and Missandei continued to entertain him night after night.
 
It was on one such night that Jon entered his tent to find the two handmaidens waiting for him in… quite the interesting pose. There, kneeling on the ground in the center of his tent, is Missandei. She’s been thoroughly restrained, with what looks like a long piece of rope used to bind her and restrict her in incredibly enticing ways.
 
With her elbows high on either side of her head and her hands forcibly laced behind her neck, with the rope even pulled taut through her teeth to gag her as it wrapped around her breasts to accentuate her dark skinned tits, she looked… she looked quite tantalizing. But also, from the way her eyes were somehow hooded, somewhat put-out.
 
Beside her stands Doreah, a smug smirk on her lips as the Lysene licks them and runs a hand across Missandei’s naked flesh.
 
“Do you like what you see, Great Khal? The Naathi has finally learned her place.”

 
Missandei bristles, even as Jon lifts a brow, easily putting two and two together. It’s obvious Missandei isn’t happy about this state of affairs… but she also isn’t fighting either. She’d be struggling and pleading with him to end this if Doreah was truly forcing her into this situation. Likewise, Doreah knew better than to try something like that. Which really left only one option.
 
“And how long will this be Missandei’s place?”
 
Jon’s amused tone causes Doreah to falter slightly, flushing as her smug grin drops in favor of a lip bite at the fact that he’d seen through her so very quickly. Glancing to the side, she mutters her response.
 
“… For the night only, Great Khal…”
 
Of course. Still, just to be sure, Jon walks forward and grabs Missandei by the chin, tilting her head back and looking down into her eyes.
 
“Is this so?”
 
Missandei lowers her gaze and nods demurely as best she can in her bound position. It’s just as he thought, Doreah had somehow tricked her into a wager and then defeated her handedly in whatever competition it was that she’d come up with. Missandei was likely annoyed with herself for falling for it and with Doreah for tricking her in the first place. But a bet was a bet, and one must always pay their dues.
 
“Well then… it seems her mouth is otherwise occupied, Doreah. Who is going to wet my cock with her tongue if not Missandei?”
 
“I will of course, Great Khal!”
 
Without hesitation, Doreah excitedly drops to her knees beside Missandei, ignoring the bound and gagged Naathi Scribe entirely in favor of pulling his cock from its confines and slipping it right into her mouth. She moans throatily as she begins to suck him off, bobbing up and down his majestic, massive member and swallowing it whole like the former Bedslave she is, even as her hand comes up to grope and fondle his balls.
 
Her experience is nothing to scoff at. Doreah knows how to please a man, she knows how to make sure a man who has paid for her time will leave satisfied. She can be a little full of herself sometimes, but at the very least, she knows her craft quite well.
 
Still, Jon would let her have this. Tonight was her night, whatever wager she and Missandei had ultimately come up with. Doreah had won, and while it was obvious that he had been made into a prize… he did not mind it all that much, at least not for this. Especially since he could see from Missandei’s eyes that this would not happen again, at least not in the same way. The gorgeous Naathi might have been tricked this time, but she would not be made a fool of twice.
 
For now, Jon relaxes into Doreah’s eager cock gobbling, enjoying as she takes him down the back of her throat without gagging a single time, swallowing his entire member and then some and bobbing up and down his dick at a rapid pace.
 
Soon enough, he’s cumming down her throat… the moment that she’s done swallowing his load however, Doreah whips off of his cock and spins around, pushing Missandei down onto her back as the bound and gagged ebony girl lets out a squeak through the rope between her teeth. Pinning Missandei in place, Doreah has a wide smug smile on her lips as she wiggles her ass in Jon’s direction, looking back over her shoulder at him, her eyes twinkling.
 
“I’m all yours, Great Khal. Unfortunately this disobedient little brat doesn’t get anything tonight… but that’s alright. You can slake your lusts on me to your heart’s content.”

Ah, so denial is the angle that Doreah is going for. Very well. Dropping to his knees behind Doreah, he grabs the Lysene by the hips… and proceeds to slam his cock home into her hungering twat. She’d just been in the midst of saying some mocking thing to Missandei, trapped beneath her, but Jon cuts her off as he begins to fuck her atop the bound Naathi Scribe, pounding into Doreah from behind.

 
Reaching out, he grabs hold of her hair and yanks her head back, while his other hand moves around to grab one of her tits. Jon holds nothing back as he proceeds to fuck the former Lysene Bedslave hard from behind, reminding her of just who and what he is. He is the Great Khal as she delights in addressing him, but he’s also a dragon… and dragons do not often like being made into tools for the foolish little games of humans.
 
While Missandei does take her lumps and is denied any pleasure that night, at least of the physical variety, Jon nevertheless gives her quite the show as he fucks Doreah right in front of her, letting her watch with some satisfaction as her rival’s face contorts and eventually turns quite silly from the rough plowing she receives. Eyes rolling up in her head, tongue lolling out of her mouth, Doreah loses the capacity to be smug or proud of her victory over the other handmaiden as Jon turns her into his fuck toy and proceeds to use her all night long.
 
After all, she’s the one who said he could slake his lusts on her to his heart’s content. So that’s precisely what he does, perhaps hoping just a little bit that she might realize she and Missandei could last so much longer against his stamina if they just worked together instead of constantly competing with one another.
 
But alas, it’s not meant to be. The very next night, Missandei has managed to turn the tables on Doreah, and it’s she who Jon fucks into a stupor as the Lysene lays bound and gagged and frustrated beneath them both. Not to be outdone, the two constantly plot and scheme against one another. Jon lets them have their games, far too focused on leading an entire army down the Valyrian Peninsula to interfere too much. So long as they aren’t hurting one another, it’s fine.
 
If they go too far, he’ll put a stop to it, but for now, they’re playing their role, acting as a nightly distraction after a long day, and pleasant morning surprises before he has to get to work once more.
 
-x-X-x-
 
They’ve arrived at Oros, and while the ruined city is said to have inhabitants still, those scant few that make their home here are steering clear of Jon and his armies. Probably for the best, really, the Dothraki are a little ornery at this point after the grueling trek that was the Lands of the Long Summer. Luckily, they’d more than stocked up on provisions for their short stay in Mantarys, and by moving through the city quickly, they’d not dallied or used up more of their original provisions from Meereen.
 
Regardless, Oros was… a dead city, to say the least. Broken down and crumbling, it was ultimately lifeless in a somewhat unsettling and odd way. As he and his people had made their way through the city streets, it had been just a little too quiet for Jon’s tastes. Nothing and no one had attacked them though, and eventually they’d arrived at the city harbor… where a decision had to be made.
 
There were ships in the harbor, certainly… but none of them were of a serviceable state. Still, Captain Dyniros assured Jon that the wood could be taken and transformed into some boats with the labor of the Unsullied doing most of the work. The thing was… did Jon really want to go that route? Not only would it take longer, but he wasn’t sure the Dothraki were all that interested in traveling across the Smoking Sea anyways.
 
They would do so if he commanded it, just as they would eventually travel to Westeros under his command. But… there was another option. His dragons were getting bigger. The black one especially was now large enough to carry a rider, presumably. He could… go alone? With just his dragons at his side, he could fly across the Smoking Sea rather than boating across, to find out what treasures Old Valyria had in store for him.
 
That was… a dangerous idea, for numerous obvious reasons. But it was also the fastest option. Unfortunately, when Jon turned to that feeling in his chest that was currently leading him onward, he couldn’t say for certain which option was preferable. It wasn’t specific enough for that, all he knew for sure was that he needed to get to Valyria itself, that his journey lay across this expanse of water.
 
Dragons or boats… or turning around and abandoning his cause when he’d already come so far. But… surely not, right?

-x-X-x-

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