The Dragon Wakes

If the ointment had been decently powerful before, it was transcendently so now. From the moment Dany felt the old woman's finger touch her lips, she began to lose herself. It almost seemed to grow distant, the entire scene with the Khalasar watching, the wives holding her, and the old crone...fingering. None of that really mattered. Not truly. Not in the wake of what she was feeling now.

It was like...a wave. A wave of pleasure. Building and building and building. There was no shame, no embarassment, there was only the pleasure, like lightning in her skull, like fire on her crotch, like nothing she'd ever fantasised about in her wildest daydreams. Soon, she began to lean into it. She felt her hips rising and pushing forward, and she heard the crone's cackle in response. She felt herself trying to get more of the sensation, more of this...glory.

The crowd were rapidly being whipped up into a frenzy. All involved were moving closer to where Dany was bucking and gyrating, everything of her that could jiggle was doing so, vigorously. Her eyes were rolling into the back of her skull, she was cresting the wave, cresting, cresting, riding high along the rim of it. Every fibre of her being was buzzing, the wave would never waver or fall, she would be here forever, her whole being afire, like the night of Drogo's funeral, the night her dragons were born. This was different, though. That had been a fire without her, then, fire around and about her, but this fire was inside; it was fizzing away at her crotch, burning inside her very veins. She wanted this, she needed it, forever. She would do anything to be here for the rest of her life, the rest of eternity, feeling the way she felt right now.

And then, as if she were surfacing from a freezing lake, she felt her rational self emerge. The pleasure receded slightly, just enough for her to realise what was happening. She looked up in horror at the old woman, her finger now stained not only with the ointment, but with Dany's own juices. The crowd's eyes were all but burrowing into her, now. Khal Moro looked as if he might rush forward and take her then and there, so intense was his desire. "No, no..." she protested. "I am...blood of the...drago—"

The old woman interrupted her by plunging her finger back into the fray. Dany's feeble protestations were drowned out by her own squeals of delight. Gods...why had she tried to resist this? Why had she ever wanted anything but this? "Don't...st..." She heard herself say.

"Eh?" The woman said, smiling. "What was that?" She leaned in closer to hear what Dany was trying to say. "Don...don't..." she broke off, all but hyper-ventilating, her cheeks positively glowing. "Don't..." she moaned, "Don't...stop..." she buried her face in the shawl of one of the Bloodriders' wives, still twisting and gyrating madly. "As the Dragon Queen wishes," The crone laughed, playing with Dany's clitoris as she did.

This continued in a similar pattern for what felt like an eternity. Dany would crest that wonderful wave for a time, almost forgetting who and where she was. Then, at the moment when her ecstasy seemed at its most absolute, the crone would stop, withdrawing her finger and forcing Dany to wake from her sexual stupour, forcing her to reckon with the shame of being brought to climax over and over again before Moro and his Khalasar.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Dany began to look forward to the times when the old woman worked her fingers down in her most intimate place. The protestations stopped, and were eventually replaced by full-throated insistence that she continue. "More!" Dany would yowl, like a cat in heat. "I n-need more!"and the crone would always oblige, working her magic fingers once more, sending yet more waves of pleasure crashing against the shore of Dany's rational mind. What would her subjects think of her now? That small part of her consciousness wondered. What did she look like? Every bit the whore she'd insisted she'd never become. Begging for this hag to bring her to another climax, heedless of the audience for whom every last second, every hip thrust, every cry of sexual gratification would be perfectly memorised forever more.

Yet Dany didn't care, because the feeling was there, and it felt so very, very good...