Daenerys fucks Kraznys (MF)

He took a few heavy breaths, but did not once look at her, instead turning to the men at his sides, his advisors, his generals.

She waited as a beautiful dark-skinned girl relayed him information about the battle. How his plans that she had executed went, her burning of the western section of the city, the destruction of the walls, the sacking by the Unsullied and Dothraki. Kraznys seemed pleased, if a little disinterested. Volantis is just another city, the fourth on his way west since he had broken her and bent her to his will.

The council continued, food and wine was brought in and ate as the slave masters discussed further plans, congratulated themselves on another victory and decided how they would divide the city's plunder. All the while she waited on her knees, her clothes half removed. Kraznys didn’t spare her a second glance, seemingly more interested in his wine and food and the opinion of his generals and other masters. But the same could not be said about those generals and slave masters. More than often she found them staring at her, their eyes lingering before turning their attention back to the discussion at hand.

It was nearly an hour before Kraznys finally tired of the discussion and dismissed them and turned his attention back to his greatest prize. He motioned to her and Daenerys stood obediently, letting the blood circulate through her legs for a moment before sauntering over to stand next to the small throne-like chair he lazed on.

For this, she did not need to be told what to do. She was Daenerys Targaryen, last of her great house. Now she stood over Kraznys as he leaned back in his chair. Two slave girls approached again, finishing the work they had started, undoing the remaining buttons on her jerkin before they began undoing her belt. The air was thick, and hot, and damp, but goosebumps still dance across her skin in the wake of every touch made by the slave girls undressing her.

She was the Mother of Dragons. Rightful heir of the Seven Kingdoms. Her pants were pulled down, pooling around her feet. Long smooth pale legs stepped out from them.

Kraznys gaze trailed down her body, lingering on her bare sweat covered perky breasts, her chest flush, nipples hard. At Kraznys side she had conquered Yunkai, Meereen, and now Volantis. She stepped forward, lifting on leg, mounting her master's throne, delicately kneeling between beside his thighs on the oversized seat.

His hands reached around, squeezing her ass, separating the cheeks before squeezing them together. Daenerys shuddered and bit her lip, her hands clutching on his robbed shoulders. She could not stop herself, she pressed down, grinding her bare sex against his hardening cock through his expensive silks.

“Is this what you want, slave?” Kraznys asked in a low guttural tone.

Daenerys nodded quickly, her hand reaching between them, easily finding his cock and stroking him to his full length.

“You enjoy it don’t you? Burning the city, watching those men and women burn? Like your mad father before you?”

Her grip tightened around his cock making him grunt and then laugh, his hand slipped between her legs, fingers pushing inside her aching cunt.

“Still some fight left inside you pet? I thought I broke all of that out of you years ago? Still your wet cunt does not lie.” he smirked then pulled away his hand reaching for his cup, he leaned back as much as he could, emptied the cup then motioned for her to get on with it, “you’ve earned your reward slave.”

Daenerys paused for a moment, whimpering at the loss of his touch. The same touch that had broken her. She had first come to Astapor years ago, a naive girl with three tiny dragons, how foolish she had been to think those in power would not simply take what they wanted. Astapor had stood for a thousand years, sold and bred slaves for all that time, it was their way of life, their culture, what right did she have to change any of that.

She held him steady, pressing the head of him against her throbbing sex. Teasing herself momentarily before she sank down. She could remember the first day he took her, the chains around her arms and legs, the leash around her neck. She could remember screaming, the pain of his thick cock defiling her body, the feeling of his fingers digging into her waist. She could remember the first thrust, the first time he raped her, the first time he had cum inside her.

She can remember the dark room they kept her in, the chains kept on her limbs, the clothes stripped from her body. The lack of food or water, the whips against her skin. She can remember begging for water, for food, for relief.

And she can remember the day they came to her, not to hurt her, but to feed her, to massage her sore muscles, to kiss and play with her. She could remember the taste of the poison they fed her, the strange impossible things it made her see and feel.

She remembered the first day she was taken, she can remember the pain. And she can remember the first day she asked for it, the first day they had made her cum.

The pain is still there, the thickness of his cock stretching her out, only now she loved it, she craved it, she needed it.

Some small part of her hated it. Hated how much she wanted to please this man. She lifted her hips, feeling her cunt cling to his cock, then plunged back down, moaning as she moved, riding him as she rode her dragons.

He was a slaver, a terrible person but so was she, and he had broken any hope of her being better a long time ago. He had killed many of her friends, but she was not without guilt. She deserved his. She needed this.

His hands went to her behind, gripping the flesh of her ass. She rolled her hips, groaning, eyes rolling back. It was better this way, her madness contained and controlled. Faster she moved, panting on his cock.

Ass jiggling, breasts swaying, she hugged his body as close as she could while cursing the awkward position on his throne that wouldn’t let her fuck him the way she wanted.

It was better this way, all the excitement, the rush, the pleasure of watching cities burn before her, of men and women cowering in fear and respect with none of the guilt. She had no choice, she had to do it. Her cunt clenched as she felt the first wave of ecstasy pulse from his cock up her spine. A few slave cities burned, what did it matter, the rest of the world would be saved from her madness.

"Ahh," she moaned her and her legs began to tremble. She closed her eyes and grunted, letting the first wave of pleasure wash over her. Then she squealed as she came, her body shaking, her cunt tightening around his cock. She pushed herself down, burying the entire length of the slave masters cock inside of her.

She felt him throb, his cock swelling inside her, no doubt filling her with his seed. The thought, the feeling, sent her spiraling even deeper over the edge. Her toes curled, her eyes rolled back as she arched her back and cried out shaking on top of him.

Kraznys gripped her tightly, his hips lurching up and his hands dug into her flesh, urging her to keep moving, he grunted and she moaned loader still, trembling.

"More slave," Kraznys demanded, and she rode him faster, impaling herself on his cock. She deserved this, deserved him. She thought of all that she had done tonight, all the death, the destruction the countless burned. The power and strength and heat of Drogon between her legs, throbbing with every breath, with every kill.

“Please,” she cried out as she came again all over his cock, her mouth opened wide in a silent breathless moan. She lurched forward, sliding down his cock back onto his lap. His silks were soaked with her wetness, ruined, but she did not care. Her body tightened on top of him as she shook and rode him harder, and harder, until her body could barely move anymore until she could do nothing more but collapse on top of him.

“You did good slave,” she heard him whisper. His hands almost gently trailing up her back as they both sat there. Their labored breaths the only sound filling the large tent. She could feel his seed drip from her well used cunt. She could still hear the screams of the men and women burning below her.

It wasn’t her fault anyway, the men and women dead, burned alive. It wasn't her fault so willingly gave her mind and body to this slaver, this monster. She was a tool to be used, no more to blame for taking the lives of others as a knights sword. She was a slave.

Kraznys stood and she slipped off him to the floor, half kneeling before him. He adjusted himself, putting himself back under his robes before looking down at her with a grin.

“You are not the only one who did good today,” he spoke, Daenerys bowed her head, “my generals also achieved great things during the battle.”

Daenerys looked up, finding that Kranzys' generals had reentered the tent.

“Should they not be rewarded as well?”

Daenerys watched as the men approached her, treacherous grins on their faces.

Great men and wise rulers know when to reward their followers, and Master Kraznys was both of those. One of his generals lifted her to her feet, another cupped her breasts, another pulled on her braid until her back arched and her lips parted and he could push his fingers into her mouth. Kraznys was a great man, and Daenerys, Daenerys was a slave.