None other than...Ser Jorah Mormont

Dany felt herself go cold all over. Sitting in a chair opposite her bed, was the disgraced Knight, Ser Jorah Mormont. He looked different than his usual put-together self, he was unshaven, and his hair was an unkempt mop atop his head, his armour only partially on. His fingers were interlocked around the hilt of his sword, which was planted upside down, its blade neatly stuck into the floor. He was looking down, staring pensively at a point somewhere before him.

Dany took a step back, hoping to disappear back around the corner before he looked up, but her bare foot made a loud slapping sound, loud enough to make him look up. Slowly — painfully so — he looked up, and when he finally laid eyes on her, he looked as if he was questioning whether or not he was dreaming. He opened his mouth, but no sound came forth. "M-my...q-queen..." He stammered, clearly unsure of where to look, but also loathe to let her out of his sight in her current state. He compromised by kneeling before his sword, clearing his throat loudly.

Dany crossed one leg over the other, attempting to hide her pussy, and concealed her chest with her arms. This situation was becoming frighteningly close to resembling a routine. She attempted to back away and around the corner again, but something went wrong, she miscalculated the space between herself and the wall next to her and tripped over herself, letting out a gasp as she suddenly went backwards in an embarassing prat fall.

Though her arse was generous in size, not even it could cushion her fall against the hard stone flooring of the Pyramid. The impact sent her reeling, and she found herself rolling about in agony, fighting back tears as her hands cradled the arse in question, slowly running up and down the spot she had landed on.

Jorah Mormont, meanwhile, was beside himself. His first instinct was to run to his Queen's side and see to her, and yet...there she was, the long-held object of his affections, miraculously, impossibly naked, making quite the show of herself down there on the floor. Despite his desires, Jorah's obligations to duty eventually won out, and he walked gingerly over to her, trying his best only to look at her out of the corner of his eyes, though occasionally stealing glances at her body when he thought he could get away with it.

Already, Dany's arse was beginning to bruise, a little spot of purple appearing on it even as she rubbed it. When the pain finally began to subside, she realised that Jorah was not only standing over her, but had also likely seen, well...everything.

"M-my queen," He began, "I—"

"Don't...it's...Ser Jorah," She interrupted, trying her best to look authoritative, even as her tits were spilling out from between her fingers. "Fetch me...fetch me clothes."

Jorah blinked. "Uh, well yes of course my Queen, which—"

"ANY!" She shrieked, louder than she'd intended. She lowered her voice, "Any...any clothes, at all. They needn't even be mine just—just as long as they are decent."

Jorah swallowed thickly. "O-oh...of course. Right away, my Queen," He awkwardly turned and started walking toward the chamber doors, but halfway he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. "I...will send some servants back with the clothes," He said.

"My handmaids, Ser Jorah." She couldn't even make eye contact with him "Make—make sure only my handmaids are sent."

Jorah nodded, and left the room, looking once more at her over his shoulder as he went.

Dany sat there for a while, staring at the wall. Her plan was in tatters, the one man she had least wanted to ever see her in as compromising a position as this had now seen absolutely everything she had to offer, and now no doubt the story would spread — if not through him, then her handmaids when they inevitably arrived. She covered her face with her hands, freeing her breasts once again. Gods, that fall...and the rest of it...she wondered what she must have looked like, rubbing her arse and rolling about like some kind of harlot. No doubt from his perspective she had been one step away from pleading for him to strip off and fuck her, right there on the floor.

She consoled herself with the thought that now, at last, things truly could get no worse. She was back in Meereen now, safe and sound behind a wall of Unsullied, her Dragons...there would be no more of this now. No more humiliation, no more embarassing nude escapades, there couldn't be...could there?