Don’t you owe me a favour?

“Don’t you owe me a favour?” You remind him.

Tyrion laughs. “Well technically, yes. But I don’t know what you could possibly ask of me now. I am known for two things only in court, my filthy mouth and my fat coinpurse.”

You tell Tyrion that is exactly how he may serve you.

He sighs and pulls a small sack out of his coat pocket. “A Lannister always pays his debts. How much?”

You tell him that you were talking about his mouth, not the purse.

He laughs at that. “And what exactly would you have me say? Do you want to hear the imp of Kings Landing pledge obedience to the almighty King Rishard of Parre?”

You remark that although this would be most pleasurable, that is not the favour you have in mind. You remind Tyrion of his story with the milkmaid in the riverlands.

Tyrion takes a step back. “You must jest.” After a few seconds of silence he sees that you are completely serious. “By the gods, is this the punishment for all my debauchery with the women of Westeros?”

You walk over to the side of the bed and sit down. Luckily you had sent all the servants away from your apartments soon after you started drinking.

Tyrion looks at you on the bed and takes a swig of wine from the bottle. “I cannot do it, sir.” He protests. “Release me from this oath, by your honour.”

You remind Tyrion that it is by his honour that he must follow the rules of his game. After all his ill-gotten blowjobs he is finally on the receiving side.

Tyrion looks defeated, he knows that you have him backed into a corner. He cannot refuse your request without bringing shame on himself. Again, he drinks his wine, and slowly walks up to you.

“I have never…” he begins.

You tell him that there is no great science, except to keep your teeth away. Tyrion sighs and kneels between your legs.

Your cock is already growing though not fully erect. You instruct Tyrion to undo the laces on your trousers. When he pulls out your cock reluctantly, it stiffens quickly in his hands.

You hold his head to stop his squirms. Tentatively he takes a few small licks at your shaft.

You ask him how it tastes.

“Disgusting.” He says resentfully.

You tell Tyrion there’s more where that came from, and guide the cock into his mouth. It does not go far before he chokes, his mouth being inexperience in the art. Squeezing his eyes he sucks the end of your cock.

His lips are fat and soft, his tongue large and wet. The perfect face for fucking. You instruct him to open his eyes and look at you, you enjoy seeing his handsome face servicing your cock.

Although his mouth does feel amazing, you start to long for more. Holding him by the back of the neck, you slowly push your dick to the back of his throat.

Red-veined eyes glare up at you in protest, but Tyrion endures the struggle as your cock works down into his neck.

His throat feels incredible. Warm and tight like a pussy. You pull him off and allow him to breathe, which he does heavily and with much drama, but quickly you **** your cock back down his throat.

His small hands protest, slapping you on the thigh, but you continue to pursue the pleasure of the deepthroat. You thrust your hips and Tyrion makes a sort of gargled scream, tears forming in his eyes. Saliva drips down his chin and onto the floor.

The pleasure only continues to increase the harder you fuck his face. You get on your feet, still holding Tyrion by the back of the neck, and fuck his face with unrelenting strength and speed.

Tyrion seems to go from angry protest to acceptance as his body limps, being held up by your hand as you fuck his throat.

When you shoot your load, you pull the dwarf away to aim it onto his face. Tyrion wears a final look of disgust as the ropes of cum splatter over his eyes and hair, still dripping from his lips. He falls to the floor to catch his breath.

“A Lannister…” he says breathily “always pays his debts.”