Of course he is! He's King Joffrey!

Taking a deep breath, Joffrey stepped towards his trembling mother. "No," he whispered commandingly. "I am the King, and the King does as he pleases." Reaching forward, he grabbed the torn remains of his mother's top, and ripped them away. Cersei gulped as he stared at her breasts, round, plump and full, the red nipples hard as stones.

"Joffrey... Joffrey..." she whimpered. "What... what are you going to do?" She stared at him, green eyes filled with fear.

Joffrey smiled, a sense of satisfaction filling him. He'd let himself get confused because Mother was, well, his mother, and forgotten that in the end, she was a woman, like all the rest. "Like I told you," he declared, as he palmed a breast in his hand, "as I please." Her breast felt so good in his hand, warm and soft, the way he'd always known it would. He rubbed his thumb over the nipple.

His mother let out a low groan. "Joffrey... please... please..." she muttered, then paused, clearly at a loss for words, with no idea what she wanted him to do. Before she could decide what she wanted to say, Joffrey brought his lips to hers, and silenced her with a kiss.