The Invasion of the Dothraki Sea

Two months later, the khalasar had grown.

What began as Drogo’s twenty-thousand riders had swelled to nearly thirty-five thousand. Word traveled fast across the Great Grass Sea: a silver-haired khaleesi who fucked like a goddess and killed like a demon. Warriors from defeated khalasars rode in daily to swear themselves to her, hungry for glory, gold, and the chance to taste the dragon queen’s legendary cunt.

Daenerys Stormborn stood atop a small rise overlooking the sprawling camp, naked except for a harness of gold and rubies that framed her small, firm breasts and a thin chain that ran down to kiss her clit. The sun warmed her pale skin as she surveyed her growing empire. Between her thighs, Jhogo knelt obediently, his tongue buried deep in her pussy, lapping slowly and devotedly while she idly stroked his braided hair.

She had not killed him. He had become her favorite - loyal, skilled, and utterly broken to her will.

“Harder,” she commanded softly. Jhogo obeyed instantly, sucking her clit between his lips and flicking it with his tongue until her juices ran down his chin. Daenerys moaned, hips rolling against his face, one hand braced on his shoulder as her orgasm built.

Behind her, two other bloodriders - Aggo’s younger brother and a massive warrior named Rakharo - waited on their knees, cocks hard and leaking, forbidden to touch themselves until she allowed it.

The consolidation was nearly complete. Three more khals had fallen to her blade in the last month, each one dying mid-thrust inside her while their warriors watched. The Dothraki now called her *Khaleesi of Cunts and Knives*, and they worshipped her for it.

Daenerys came with a sharp cry, flooding Jhogo’s mouth. She held his head in place until the tremors passed, then pushed him back gently.

“Enough. You’ve earned your reward.”

She turned and dropped to all fours in the grass, ass high, back arched like a cat in heat. “Both of you. Take your Khaleesi.”

Rakharo mounted her first, slamming his thick cock into her dripping pussy in one stroke. The second warrior took her mouth, fucking her throat with deep, sloppy thrusts. Daenerys moaned around the shaft stretching her lips, pushing back greedily onto the cock pounding her cunt. She loved this now - the feeling of being used and using them in return, the raw power of controlling their pleasure while they filled her.

“Harder,” she gasped when they pulled out to switch. “Fuck your queen like you mean to breed her.”

They obeyed with savage enthusiasm. Rakharo took her ass this time, forcing his girthy cock past her tight ring while the other drove into her pussy. Double-penetrated and spit-roasted in the open air, Daenerys screamed in ecstasy as they railed her. Her small body jolted between them, tits swinging, juices squirting messily down her thighs with every thrust.

When they were close, she gave the order she always gave now:

“Fill me.”

Hot cum flooded her cunt and ass in powerful spurts. She came again with them, clenching and milking every drop, her violet eyes half-lidded in dark bliss.

Later, as the sun began to set, Daenerys sat naked on a pile of looted cushions inside her grand tent, legs spread while a Dothraki **** girl cleaned the cum from her pussy with her tongue. Ser Jorah stood to the side, eyes dark with conflicted lust and loyalty.

“We ride for Vaes Dothrak in three days,” she announced calmly, stroking the ****’s hair. “I will enter the sacred city not as a widow, but as conqueror. The dosh khaleen will bow to me… or they will join their khals in ****.”

Jorah swallowed. “Khaleesi… the stories they tell of you—”

“Are true,” she finished with a wicked smile. “I fuck. I kill. I take. And my khalasar grows stronger with every man who dies inside me.”

She crooked a finger at Jorah. “Come here, my bear. It has been too long since I rode a Westerosi cock. On your back.”

Jorah hesitated only a moment before obeying. As he lay down, Daenerys straddled him, sinking slowly onto his thick cock with a satisfied sigh. She rode him with the same ruthless grace she now ruled her people - slow at first, then faster, grinding and clenching, using him for her pleasure alone.

“Tell me, Ser Jorah,” she purred as she fucked him, nails raking down his chest, “do you still dream of me as a queen… or as the whore who will one day sit on the Iron Throne with the seed of a hundred Dothraki dripping down her thighs?”

Jorah groaned, hips bucking up into her. “Both, Khaleesi.”

Daenerys laughed, low and throaty, then leaned down to bite his lip hard enough to draw blood.

“Good answer.”

She rode him until he spilled deep inside her, then kept riding through his sensitivity, forcing a second, painful orgasm from him while she came again with a triumphant moan.

The dragon was no longer sleeping.

She was devouring the world, one cock, one kill, one conquered khalasar at a time.

And she had only just begun.