Chapter 4 Raphtalia's turn

Raphtalia stirred from her fitful slumber. A plaintive moan escaped her lips as she shifted atop the musty hay in the barn. Her eyes fluttered open, surveying the dimly lit surroundings. The air was thick with the scent of timber and the musk of animals. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the distant whisper of wind through the eaves.

Something was conspicuously absent; the weight of James’ body, which typically nuzzled her own, was nowhere to be felt. Her brow furrowed as she tentatively stretched out a hand, searching for the familiar warmth of his flesh. Her fingers met only the coarse prickle of hay, encouraging her to lift her head and she slowly eyeball the barn

As she awoke more fully, she became acutely aware of the discomfort in her lower abdomen. A second moan escaped her, this time accompanied by a warm sensation cascading down her thigh. She realized with a humiliating jolt that she had voided her bladder and that a puddle of urine was forming on the earthen floor beneath her. The acrid scent of her own filth mingled with the other odor. All in all, it was a pungent testament to her physical infirmity.

The stark reality of her situation crashed down upon her. He had abandoned her. The man who had purchased her, who had claimed her as his own, had vanished without a trace. She scanned the barn desperately, her eyes darting from shadow to shadow, seeking some sign of his presence. But there was nothing.

Her heart pounded in her chest as terror threatened to overwhelm her. The maelstrom of despair that gripped her was visceral. She hugged her knees to her chest, alone and forsaken. She grappled with the harsh realities of a world that had shown her precious little mercy.

A hand reached down, gripping Raphtalia’s shoulder in firm reassurance. She tensed, her eyes widening, as she looked up to find Ygritte standing there. The strawberry-redhead was grinning down at her.

“Relax. He’s gone for a piss,” Ygritte said, her voice laced with amusement.

“Piss?” The demi-human frowned, her brows knitted together in confusion because she did not recognize the colloquialism. Ygritte’s gaze flickered to the pool of urine between Raphtalia’s legs as she nodded and affirmed, “Piss.”

“You okay?” Ygritte asked, her voice softening slightly.

“I am now,” Raphtalia breathed. A sense of relief washed over her as she thanked Ygritte with a small nod.

Ygritte’s grin widened, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You wanna see his cock?”

Raphtalia blushed deeply, her voice barely a whisper. “I’ve seen it.”

“You wanna see it hard?”

Ygritte pressed, her grip on Raphtalia’s shoulder tightening slightly.

The demi-human inhaled expansively, and Ygritte grinned at the implicit affirmative. Raphtalia rose on trembling legs, following Ygritte as they crept towards the door. They were met by Missandei, the dusky-skinned translator, who smiled demurely at them. She wore a new outfit that James had purchased for her, the fabric hugging her curves in all the right places.

“No escaping you, is there?” Raphtalia murmured, her voice barely audible. Missandei didn’t speak much for a translator, preferring to listen rather than talk. She understood the power of silence and followed Ygritte and Raphtalia to the pond where James had gone to relieve himself.

There, the three women found James bent over, facing the pond, his body tense with effort as he strained to expel a large, fat turd. His pants were bunched around his ankles, exposing his hairy, muscular thighs and the heavy sac that hung between them. His balls were large and pendulous, swaying gently with each labored movement. His cock, long and thick even while flaccid, hung like a fat, lazy serpent against his thigh.

The women stopped in their tracks, their eyes riveted to the crude spectacle before them. James’ body trembled as he bore down, his muscles taut and defined beneath his skin. His tiny, puckered anus stretched obscenely wide, the skin around it taut and shiny, like an overfilled balloon. The turd inched out, a grotesque, glistening log, its surface slick with mucus and streaked with the remnants of digested food.

The sight was repulsive yet mesmerizing, a perverse tableau of human bodily function. His anus, now a gaping, fleshy maw, seemed to defy its own nature as it stretched to an almost impossible degree. The turd moved in a slow, laborious process, each millimeter of progress accompanied by a visible clenching of James’ muscles, his body shaking with the exertion.

The veins on his arms and legs bulged, standing out like cords beneath his skin. Sweat beaded his back, trickling down his spine and sides, dripping onto the ground below. His breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale a desperate struggle, each exhale a guttural release.

The air was thick with the pungent scent of his excrement. It was a noxious miasma that clung to the back of the throat and invaded the nostrils. The contrast to the otherwise serene surroundings was so stark as to be repulsive; the tranquil pond and the verdant foliage were somehow sullied by the vulgar display.

As the turd finally emerged fully, it dropped to the ground with a wet, heavy plop, leaving a trail of smeared filth in its wake. James let out a final, relieved groan, his body sagging as the tension released. His anus, now empty, began to contract, slowly returning to its normal, puckered state. He remained bent over for a moment, panting, before reaching for a nearby leaf to clean himself.

Throughout the entire ordeal, James remained blissfully unaware of the spectators watching his intimate act. The three women stood in silence, their expressions a mix of disgust, fascination, and disbelief. Individually each thought it was not something she’d soon forget.

“Fuck,” James uttered, finally standing up and turning around. He paused, his face flushing as he noticed the women. “Oh, hello there.” Ygritte laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I was going to offer a hand.”

“Why didn’t you?” James asked, his cock twitching in appreciation as his eyes roved over the women. Ygritte blushed, her voice barely above a whisper. “Oh, you wanted to watch.”

“Aye,” she nodded, a smirk playing on her lips.

James’ cock was now at full mast, standing proud and erect. “My turn,” he said, his voice laced with desire. “Ladies, strip.”

Raphtalia hesitantly began to undress, her small hands trembling slightly as she pulled her tunic over her head, revealing her petite, hairy frame.

Her nipples hardened in the cool air, standing out like tiny pebbles against her pale skin. Her tail flicked anxiously, the soft fur brushing against her bare skin. Ygritte, more confident, quickly shed her clothing, her freckled skin glowing in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. Her small breasts were tipped with rosy nipples. The cool air was not the reason hers were already stiff.

Missandei, with a slight smile, unhurriedly removed her new outfit, her dusky skin gleaming like polished bronze. Her breasts, slightly rounder than the other women’s, swayed gently as she moved, her dark nipples puckering as she exposed herself to the group. All three women were hairy; their natural bushes were a stark contrast to their smooth, supple skin.

James watched, his breath hitching as each woman revealed herself to him. His cock throbbed, a pearl of pre-cum glistening at the tip, as he took in the sight of their naked bodies, awaiting his wishes.

Despite being a bit unsteady, Raphtalia was first to act. Her fingers wrapped around the base of his throbbing erection. She leaned forward, her breath ghosting over the sensitive head, making him shudder with anticipation. Tentatively, she extended her tongue and lapped at the bead of precum gathered at the tip. The salty-sweet taste exploded on her tastebuds, stoking the heat building in her core.

Emboldened by James’ groan of approval, Raphtalia took him into her mouth, sealing her lips around his girth. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking gently as her tongue swirled around the spongy head. James fisted a hand in her auburn hair, guiding her movements as she began to bob her head, taking him deeper with each pass.

Ygritte and Missandei watched hungrily as Raphtalia pleasured their master. Their own hands roamed over their nubile bodies; Ygritte tweaked her pert nipples, rolling the hardened buds between her fingers until they ached deliciously. Missandei’s questing fingers found her aching slit, gliding easily through the slick folds to tease her throbbing clit.

James’ grip on Raphtalia’s hair tightened as she relaxed her throat, allowing his thick cock to slide into the tight channel. She swallowed around him, the muscles massaging his length and drawing a string of muttered curses from his lips. His hips began to rock, gently thrusting into the wet heat of her willing mouth.

The obscene sounds of Raphtalia slurping and sucking filled the air, punctuated by James’ groans of pleasure. She could feel his shaft pulsing against her tongue, growing impossibly harder as his climax approached. Determined to taste his essence, she maintained her suction and used one hand to gently fondle his heavy sack.

With a hoarse cry, James surged forward, burying himself to the hilt in Raphtalia’s eager throat as he exploded.

Jet after jet of his hot seed pulsed onto her tongue, and she swallowed greedily, relishing the taste of his pleasure. He shuddered and twitched through the aftershocks, finally withdrawing from her mouth with a satisfied grunt.

No sooner had Raphtalia released him than James was hauling her up, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. He plundered her mouth, tasting himself on her tongue as he walked them back towards the bank. Ygritte and Missandei followed close behind, their eyes dark with lust.

James lowered Raphtalia onto the soft grass, his hand skimming along her trembling body until he reached the apex of her thighs. She parted for him willingly, her slick folds glistening in the sunlight. He ran a teasing finger along her slit, gathering her honey before circling her aching clit.

Raphtalia mewled and arched into his touch, her hips undulating shamelessly. James smirked at her wanton display, enjoying the effect he had on her young body. He dipped a finger fully into her dripping channel, marveling at the scorching heat and velvety softness that engulfed him.

He pumped in and out a few times, curling his finger to stroke the sensitive spot just behind her pubic bone, and Raphtalia came apart. Her pussy clamped down on his digit, rippling and fluttering as ecstasy coursed through her veins. A keening cry tore from her throat, her entire body quaking with the force of her release.

Before the aftershocks had even subsided, James was positioning himself at her entrance, the broad head of his cock nudging insistently at her swollen opening. With a smooth flex of his hips, he buried himself to the hilt in her willing body. A groan escaped his lips at the exquisite clutch of her sheath.

He gave her a moment to adjust to his girth before he began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that fired the inferno between her legs. Raphtalia thrashed beneath him, her legs coming up to wrap around his waist as he split her open with his shaft.

James nibbled and suckled at the sensitive skin of her neck, his hands roaming the curves and valleys of her body as he drove into her again and again. She was so tight, so wet, so incredibly responsive, he thought he might lose his mind. He could feel his second climax fast approaching.

“Cum for me,” he growled against the shell of Raphtalia’s ear, his fingers finding her swollen clit and pinching it roughly. “Milk my cock like a good little slave.”

Raphtalia shattered with a scream, her sheath spasming wildly around James’ pistoning length. The rippling pressure was more than he could take, and with a final, bruising thrust, he buried himself deep and erupted, bathing her womb in his seed.

A couple of minutes later, James, Raphtalia, and the two women sauntered back to the barn at a leisurely pace. James exhibited the satisfied swagger of a man who had just fucked hard; his body was loose and relaxed in the afterglow of a good lay. Raphtalia, too, bore the marks of their recent activities—her cheeks were flushed and there was a tell-tale dampness between her thighs. Her raccoon-like tail was more animated now, swishing back and forth languidly as they walked. It seemed that a vigorous fucking had put a spring in her step.

As they entered the barn, the other women looked up from their tasks. Brienne’s eyes widened in a flash of jealousy as she took in Raphtalia’s disheveled state. It was evident that James hadn’t fucked all of them, but the adoring look in Raphtalia’s eyes made it clear that she, at least, had been thoroughly satisfied.

James paused, his gaze focused on Brienne’s tall, muscular form. His cock twitched in anticipation, already stirring back to life. Noticing the look of jealousy on her face, he imagined she didn’t receive many looks of adoration—a pity, he thought, because she had such a lovely body. He grinned at her, his cock decisively dictating the next course of action.