Chapter 21

“Oh, damn, Seven Hells!” Margaery Tyrell exclaimed as I went back and forth from her arse to Loras’s.

Both Tyrells really seemed to get off on being taken like this, side by side on Margaery’s bed. I buggered each of them rather ruthlessly, thoroughly reveling in the act of sodomy with the siblings. I also fed them some of my blood to ensure that they would be addicted to me and even more under my thumb. I couldn’t let my influence over the Queen and the Hand slip, could I? Thankfully, there was only one Queen to worry about now, with Cersei being dead at last.

“You like your bum being taken like this, don’t you? The King might be your husband, but I am your master. Am I clear in this? Also, it’s time to eradicate the High Sparrow. Lancel Lannister will be sent to the Wall, if you are fine with this, a pardon to spare his father Ser Kevan grief. Septa Unella and the others must be compelled to conduct a Walk of Shame of their own, a fitting punishment for them and their self-righteous hypocrisy. Then they will be banished from Westeros, never to return. The High Sparrow alone must die, his head mounted on a spike,” I commanded the Queen and her brother as I sodomized them.

“I am more than happy with such plans. At last, we shall rule Westeros through my husband in a way that it needs to be ruled. But what of Balon Greyjoy, Ser Jaime Lannister, the ruthless Stannis Baratheon, and Roose Bolton? What of Lord Petyr Baelish, of Robin Arryn of the Vale, of Prince Doran Martell of Dorne, of Tyrion Lannister and Lord Varys in exile, and most of all, what of Daenerys Targaryen in Essos? What are our plans for them?” Margaery asked me rather breathlessly, even as I eased my cock back into her pretty arse straight from her brother’s.

“What of Lord Walder Frey in the Twins?” Ser Loras dared to mention that old prick.

“Well, as to the Boltons, I can answer in a word. Dead. All of them. Dead. Well, Walda Frey or should I say, Walda Bolton, is still very much alive, but she’s a hostage at Winterfell against the good conduct of the Bolton bannermen. Rickon Stark now rules in Winterfell. Yes, he’s alive after all. Perhaps a deal can be reached with him or his sister Sansa, assuming that he doesn’t cast his lot with Stannis.

“One war at a time, though. As your mother-in-law once told Ned Stark, ‘When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die.’ We cannot take on all enemies at once. For the moment, we must count on Ser Jaime to keep Walder Frey in line, though admittedly, the keeping of Walda might affect him. I doubt it, though. He’s not a sentimental man, that Walder Frey. If a daughter of his was taken hostage or even killed, he likely would not only regret the loss of her unborn Bolton spawn,” I asserted as I rammed deeper up Margaery’s bum.

She really had such a fine arse, too, that Margaery Tyrell, Queen of Westeros, as I took her and her brother anally on her bed from behind. Ser Loras had a pretty fine bottom, too, to be fair. Nice and pale, surprisingly so for a warrior and knight like him. Then again, he was a bit of a dandy for a knight, wasn’t he? The Knight of Flowers, they called him, even if he unhorsed many a knight far manlier than he.

In any case, he was now my lover, well, one of many of them. He ... and his sister, Queen Margaery Tyrell. Brother and sister, lovers to the same man, sharing him with each other like a toy. Or rather, they were both MY toys, weren’t they, I thought to myself with a smirk. Yes, yes, that was the ticket. Two fucktoys, both powerful aristocrats, one of them a queen by marriage and the other the Hand of the King to his own brother-in-law.

As for King Tommen himself, he was still quite naive and innocent for a lad who had been with whores and his own mother of late. Now I had to finish the job of securing my control over him, so that he would never defy him. There was only one way to ensure that, which I would do once I had my way with his wife and her brother.

“I know that you prefer lads, Loras, but go ahead and fuck your sister now. To please me. You want to please me, don’t you? You almost married Sansa Stark and Cersei Lannister once, after all. You would have had to breed them, wouldn’t you? I’m going to pound Margaery’s bum some more, while she rides your cock with her slick cunny. You’re both my playthings now, aren’t you? If you want more of my blood, that is ... and my cock, of course,” I chuckled as we set up Margaery to take it from both ends.

That was when the King burst into our chambers, catching us in the act. Young Tommen was stunned at the sight of this, but his shock and anger didn’t last beyond how long it took for one of my vampire ladies to glamor him. I didn’t catch what she said due to her whisper, but before anyone could discover it, he was inside her from behind in the same room where his Hand and I porked his wife. He gasped and tried not to cum just yet while my vampire whores serviced him.

At last, however, while I admired Margaery’s gorgeous buttocks, I spilled my seed inside her backfield. Loras then shuddered and emptied his load inside her gash, causing the Queen to limp toward her husband now. I walked over to the King and bit myself to offer him my blood. I looked keenly at Tommen as I glamored him to accept my blood.