Choosing Joffrey

You blinked and stepped outside. The daylight drive away the peculiar feeling. You wanted to get new dresses. Three Guards accompanied you.

As you peruse the dresses on display, you realise your Guards expect... attention. You send one on an errand while taking one into a corner while the last stands guard. The first's return signals the end of whatever you were doing with the second. It's then the third's turn to be pleased whole the first man stands watch and the freshly drained man goes on an errand.

It's while sucking cock that you have a small flash of brilliance. In the first dream! Sansa was slightly different there. She had an upturned nose. It was a Devinn Family trait, with those who showed the trait most strongly being somewhat pig-nosed in appearance.

So... to get that first scene to occur... Sansa had to... become a Devinn?

splurt! You quickly swallow with practised ease and use your hidden knife to check your reflection for any stray strands. You look fine. You then amend your order and get fabrics for making more dresses, all in Devinn Colours. Lady Sansa was known for her skill in needlework, this could be a social activity to bond over.

The trip home is interrupted with a summons from the Keep. Your Guards move to follow, but are told others will escort you home.

The King awaits you. His eyes roam your body and instinctively, you let it slide enough to show more than polite company would allow, and obviously enough that the King knows you would let it all fall right there and stand before him naked if he asked. The Guards all leave, and the King... takes you to his bedroom.

He bars your entrance when he reaches his room and looks at your dress. Understanding well what he wants, you let it fall and step out of the bundle, standing naked in the halls of the Palace. He lets you in, and leaves the dress outside.

"Lady Sansa is mine, but her Traitor's blood causes her to refuse to yield her body to me, Lady Ada." He explains. "But in your company, I have found her not only agreeable, but have even watched her cum her tiny brain out on my fingers."

"Ahm!" You moan as he starts groping your heavy tits. "People say... I look much like her Mother and Aunt!," you groan out, "Do you... wish it so?" He looks perplexed.

"If she... mnh! Were a Lady of House Devinn... you would still need to marry a Highborn Woman. Sansa... and I as a Widow... would be yours to do with... ah-oh my gawd! As you please." You aren't sure what you are saying.

"You would have me... the King... turn the daughter of House Stark into the daughter of House of the Crownlands?" He puts a hand to your wet cunt and rubs, making you moan in need. You mewl and grind against his hand.

"Yes! I would make her my d-daughter and w-we'd be your sluts when you aren't breeding your wiiiiife!" The idea is ridiculous, insane, but something about the dream is pushing the words out of your mouth. And the King approves of them as he rewards you by slamming his Royal Rod into your wet and needy cunt.

"You make a good point. Sansa is mine. But it wouldn't do for a King to marry an enemy House. But if she were to instead be the daughter of a loyal, lesser House... a King should have some Bastards. My Father had many."

He takes you on his bed, fucking you from behind. He pushes you further onto the bed so he can climb on, pressing his boot down on your drooling face. He next rolls you onto your back and ruts on top of you, spitting on your face while he rambles about how he'll fuck you and Sansa, you and your daughter. He lies back and watches your tits bounce and jiggle as you ride him. After he slaps them, you realise he wants you to tell him your sexy plans once Sansa is your daughter. You grind against his cock and start;

"Well... mnh... we will wash your Royal balls with our mouths every day. Any... ahn... anytime you ask, we will strip bare for you." The King's cock was hitting so deep inside you, making you fall in love with him and pushing out any defiance, any thoughts of refusing him.

"We will..." You lean forward so he can lick, suck, bite your huge tits, "be your faithful, loyal petsss!" Hissing as his teeth dig into you, you clench and freeze as his hot load fills you up.

From there, the day becomes an endless haze of sex and delirious promises of sexual degradation and service. And you do notice that what made your King cum hardest, was promising to pin his Mother down for him if Queen Mother Cersei Baratheon says anything.