Facializing Westeros

It had not been an easy road for Malthar Quo, yet it had been quite a fruitful one. Sitting on the deck of a ship, moonlight illuminating the girl between his legs, he brought a glass of shade of the evening to his lips and pondered how he'd gotten here.

Born somewhere in the Summer Isles, Malthar and his mother had been taken by slavers when he was only two, brought to the auction houses of Meereen. He had been separated from his mother there, with only his name to remind him of her existence, before he was shipped off to Yunkai (where he was processed and circumcised) and then Qarth. A wealthy man, who traded in sugar and owned many plantations, bought him for his personal use. He was a gentle yet perverted man. He fetishized Malthar's age and his dark skin, and his wealth kept these desires away from the public eye.

Downing some more of his dyed wine, Malthar ran a hand through his companion's jet black hair. She wore it short, her hair barely covering her ears, which fit her. She was a petite girl, her breasts less than a handful and her ass small yet juicy. Her mouth made up for it, her lips currently gliding up and down his dark shaft. Malthar had bought and freed her before leaving Qarth, the only condition being to accompany him to Westeros. She clearly had experience, taking his length well, though she was struggling to get all ten inches down her tight throat. As she took him deeper and deeper, he got to reminiscing again.

Malthar endured his master's perversions, utilizing his position as best he could. When not needed in the bedroom, Malthar had all the luxuries he could need. Food, clothing, shelter, but above all books. An old maid hailing from Westeros had taught him, having apparently served a lord of the Stormlands, or so she claimed. Regardless, Malthar spent all of his time reading or training with shield and sword.

At fourteen, he was deemed too old for pleasure and thrown out by his master with a full coin purse. Wandering the city for a few nights, he came upon a large structure of which he'd read about. The House of the Undying they called it, home of the warlocks of Qarth. His mind made up, he sat down outside the structure, waiting for the warlocks to show themselves. He doesn't remember how long he sat, only that he had almost died of dehydration when Pyat Pree appeared to him and offered him a position as an acolyte.

A gag from his former **** brought Malthar back to the present. She had finally taken his entire shaft, gagging on the huge member. He grabbed her head, holding her down for just a few more moments before releasing the poor girl. She gasped for air but didn't complain, soon getting back to work. To Malthar, a blowjob was the purest form of pleasure, and a woman looked best when drenched in white.

For twelve years Malthar served the warlocks, the first six spent as an apprentice. He learned their magic and drank their shade of the evening. While quite adept at all forms of sorcery, one, in particular, he mastered, becoming more skilled in the art than any warlock before him. The power of seduction is almost a magic by itself, the ability to control the opposite sex with little more than words and looks. A warlock takes this even further, lacing these same tools with spells and incantations, making Malthar irresistible to whomever he so chose. He honed his art over the years, starting with peasants and slaves before moving on to wives and politicians. None could resist him.

While he benefited from his time among them, Malthar's ambitions were greater than the House of the Undying. He left without ceremony, though the warlocks could care less. What was one Summer Islander to a powerful order of warlocks? Malthar considered heading east, but instead bought a ticket for Westeros. He wanted to leave the world of slavery behind, and something about emptying his load on Queens and Princesses appealed to him.

The girl's tongue ran up and down his shaft, her eyes locked with his. He'd barely had to bewitch her, the former **** already extremely grateful for her freedom. His cock was an aphrodisiac of sorts, and once it passed her lips she was hooked. Grabbing her hair, he **** her to deepthroat him again, his balls touching her chin. He was close, and after pistoning in and out of her mouth a few times he released her. She knew what to expect, standing still and opening her mouth as Malthar gave his cock a few final pulls.

The first strand fell on her nose, the second on her tongue. Malthar's magic filled his balls, so when he came he came buckets. Load after load covered the girls face, landing in her hair, her eyes, some dripping onto her chest. She took it dutifully, almost eagerly. The last few drops fell into her waiting mouth, her face painted in his sticky semen. She squeezed her breasts, spreading his cum around her chest, and licked her lips. She had definitely been a good purchase.

Once his load had been spent, Malthar donned his robe once more and left the girl to lick herself clean. Tommorrow he would arrive in King's Landing, and the real fun would begin. He didn't expect he'd see this girl again. He'd be sure to leave her some gold. as he wouldn't need it where he was going.

Finding his hammock and closing his eyes, he dreamed of his bright future.