The Girls of The Great Houses

She let her feet take her where they pleased, while she was **** to cover her back and front with her hands thanks to the slitted parts of her dress being torn away. What have I done? Now they all know! The shape of my backside, the state in which I keep my...garden. Her blush crept up onto the bridge of her nose, and she tried to push it out of her mind as she crept onward. In short order she discovered she had ventured into another, quieter part of the castle. Portraits of people she did not recognise lined the walls, and a plush rug ran the length of this latest hallway. She came up on one last corner, sensing the end of her journey was near. It's almost time. This man of mine will soon have me, in body if not in soul. Alicent breathed deeply, trying to slow her pounding heart. The journey had been arduous, and so very humiliating, but she was here now, all but standing on the threshold. She shook her head in a bid to clear it, turned the corner...and her eyes widened at the sight that met her.

Girls. Nine of them.

Each was roughly of an age with her, maidens no younger than eight or nine-and-ten, and no older than two-and-twenty-one. Some stood and some sat, some leaned against the walls and some lay on their stomachs or backs upon the floor, but all were completely naked. As her gaze swept over them, Alicent saw in each of them the face of a Great House.

The first girl on the far left was the tallest of them. Snowflakes nestled in the great tangled mane of her hair, and her brow and cheeks were ruddy, as if she had just come in from a cold winter's day. Her breasts were fair-sized and ridged by goosebumps all over, with hard nipples of a pinkish-red as deep as any Alicent had ever seen. Between her legs, her womanhood was all but obscured by a thicket of dark, curly hairs. Stark.

The one next to her was quite the nubile waif; thin and light of frame, with grey eyes that watched Alicent keenly, like those of a hawk. She had straight locks that ran like a glassy sheet of water down her back. For breasts, she had only slight bumps on the relative flatness of her chest, with shy nipples that were hidden under the puffy blankets of her areolas. Her flower was just as shy, the inner lips hidden completely from view. Arryn.

The third, Alicent knew at a glance. Tully, she thought, at the girl's auburn hair and
bright blue eyes. This one's teats were pointed, one facing left, the other right, and in the centre of each, there lay a pinprick nipple of a salmony sort of pink. Her thighs were tickled by a little reddish-brown rug, but this one was thinner than the Stark girl's by half, and the slit peeked out from the fuzzy patch like something lurking in a woodland's undergrowth. She was not the comeliest among them, but her face glowed with an inner warmth. Alicent noticed Tully was standing with her thighs touching together, her rug spiralling out through the gap in the middle—shy, but still brave enough not to cover herself with her hands.

Greyjoy. That was number four, a fierce-looking maiden with sopping wet brown tresses that lay limp upon her meagre chest, while water ran in whispering rivulets down her front to gather on a mound of unkempt fur, plastering it flat against her tattooed quim. She crouched side-on to Alicent, which allowed her to see beads of water dripping steadily off the undercurves of the girl's glistening arse and onto the floor.

Number five. Lannister. A short girl with glittering green eyes, and a tumble of golden curls so long it must surely reach down to her buttocks. She had generous breasts, and nipples of a vivid rose. Her girlyness was of the same colour and just as proud as she, the hooded inner part of it pushing boldly past a pair of pretty lips that were in a state of constant blush; it was also stripped of every last strand of hair—a bald, pink paleness, heady in allure. She was using the Tyrell girl as a chair, and loving every second of it.

Number six. Baratheon. A big girl, towering over all the others save for Stark. At first she was facing away from Alicent, so all she could see was a mess of black hair and the toned enormity of her backside. When she sensed Alicent's presence and turned around, her breasts came into view. They were huge; heavy and fat, in spite of her muscular physique, and boasted large, expansive nipples. She was a titan of a maid; any man who wanted her would surely have to climb her like a tree first.

Number Seven. Tyrell. A petite girl with light brown hair. She was on all fours, her arms and legs shaking under the weight of the Lannister maiden sitting atop her back. Her breasts were faintly freckled, and she had them in the crook of one of her arms, trying to keep them from hanging freely down. Her rear was mostly flat, but that didn't stop Lannister from administering a backhanded smack to it every time Tyrell faltered.

Number Eight. Martell. A dark-skinned, raven-haired maiden with full lips, wide hips and an especially small waist. She was certainly a buxom one, all voluptuous breasts and firm buttocks. Her eyes had a sleepy aspect, on account of their heavy, hooded lids, but the smile dancing on her lips made it clear she was wide awake and willing as the day was long. She leaned against the right-hand wall with her rear cheeks pressing into the stone, and her womanhood bearded with stubble.

Number Nine....Alicent's heart skipped a beat. Number nine was Rhaenyra. She did not see her body, only the comforting beauty of her face. She went to step forward, but the other girls barred her way, save for Lannister and Tyrell, the former of whom remained seated on the latter. "She is not your concern," Stark demurred. "Beyond the door lies your real duty, think only of that, as we must."
"She speaks true," Tully chimed in. "The world was made for the coupling of men and women, and not a one of us can escape that fact. Family, duty, honour." She shrugged. "There can be nothing else."
"Pleasure is a boon," Lannister added, giving Tyrell another smack about the buttocks for emphasis, "but it's a fleeting thing. Marriage brings so very much prosperity; gold, jewels..." she smiled fondly. "Children."
"A marriage bed is not such a terrible thing, especially when one has the strength to share it with more than one." Martell bit her finger seductively, lost for a moment in the thought.
"As high as honour..." Arryn muttered, her hands clasped together behind her back. "There is naught as high as honour..."
Tyrell dared not speak, she merely went on with the business of being Lannister's chair. dutiful, and silent. Baratheon cleared her throat, and said in a booming voice. "Aye, that's as may be true enough, but I can't help but wonder where a woman's duty ends? I ask you, what's responsibility without relief? What's duty without enjoyment?"
"The performing of one's duty is a pleasure all its own," the Stark girl replied, solemnly. "A true lady enjoys it more than life itself."
At that, Baratheon snorted. "Oh, I'm sure, but on the other hand, was each and every one of us not made a touch differently in the eyes of the Gods?" She gestured broadly at the diverse array of skin tones and shapes the girls next to her represented. "I was not built the same as you, just as you were not built the same as Lady Goldlocks, over there!" With a sultry flourish, the girl Lannister tossed her hair and adjusted her position atop her 'seat' at the mention of her name. Baratheon went on. "For instance, the only thing I enjoy more than life itself..." here, she grinned a fearsome grin. "Are those icy tits of yours!" She surged forward, sweeping Stark up into a bridal carry. "Oof," Stark grunted. "P-put me down! There's no time for this idle fancy!" Her hands beat against her captor's chest, making her bounteous breasts jiggle and shake. "Put me down, I said! Don't you know winter is co—" her protests were muffled when the Baratheon girl kissed her hard and full on the lips. Stark briefly wriggled in her grip, but within moments she succumbed, and put her arms around Baratheon's neck, the ruddiness spreading down her own as the big girl fondled her breasts. Taking that as a cue, Martell strode over to Tully and pushed her up against the wall, grabbing her hips and raising her into the air, before wrapping the girl's legs around her waist and commencing with necking her passionately. Tully remained shy at first, but soon enough she was giggling stupidly and grabbing heaping handfuls of those firm, brown buttocks as she rolled her hips and ground her rug into the swarthy temptress' sandy field of stubble. Lannister rolled her eyes and got up off of Tyrell. "On your back and open your legs," she commanded.
Tyrell blinked. "But..."
"On your back, before I wrestle you to the floor and shove my finger up your—"
"Understood, my lady!" Tyrell squeaked. Wasting no time, she rolled onto her back and opened her legs, breathing shakily as Lannister got down on her knees and went in to dine on the ruffled rose between them, drawing moans and shuddering squeals from Tyrell as she licked and sucked. The blonde beauty's efforts didn't last long, however. "I'm bored now," she complained, leaving the poor Tyrell girl's rose throbbing without a proper release. "I've done my part, now it's your turn." Without waiting for an answer, Lannister crawled up the length of Tyrell's body and promptly sat on her face. Tyrell didn't need to be told twice, and in short order she was lapping at the short, stacked minx of a lioness in the familiar dutiful silence. Lannister moaned exaggeratedly, running her hands through her golden curls and arching her back to better show off her gorgeous tits. "Yes...mmmm...yes...drink me, drink me all up, you Highgarden whore; my kitten has water enough to feed a thousand roses! Yeeeeeesss!!!"
Greyjoy meanwhile stood alone, watching contentedly as the rest of the girls enjoyed each others' company, but did not seem to wish to join in with any of them. Instead, she used her fingers on herself while she watched, the fur on her cunny squidging wetly as she played. "Our time will come," she said, to Alicent. "But yours is almost...almost..." she shivered happily, momentarily overcome with pleasure. "Upon...you..."
Alicent looked around in surprise, she had never expected...they were all so... She bit her lip. Girls falling upon girls, what a...what a notion... She misliked it, or...rather she knew that she was meant to mislike it, in truth it was doing things to her, making her flower tingle the longer she stood and bore witness to it. They were such pretty girls, and she'd never seen so many playing openly with each other the way these ones were. That thought made her remember the ninth among their number. She turned to address Rhaenyra, but the princess was gone, vanished into thin air while she'd been looking away. Alicent noticed her arm was extended, her fingers brushing the nothingness where her friend had been mere moments ago. She shook her head again. Enough distractions, I must go on. This man I am to meet is just there within. She moved around the gaggle of nude, copulating girls, trying her very best not to look at what they were doing to each other, and block out the noises they were making. A wild, heedless portion of her heart wanted to stay, but Alicent girded herself against it, pushing herself forward step by shaking step. She went up to the door, rapping its surface three times with her knuckles.

She did not have to wait long at all before the door opened, and Alicent found herself face to face with a shadow. He was a man, the strong shoulders and the elevated height told her that much, but the rest of him was wreathed in a deep darkness that clung to him like a second skin. She could not see any part of his face, but still she sensed his eyes on her. They roved down the length of her body, terminating at her bare hips and legs. "You are...underdressed," he said, in an unnatural, distorted voice. "Unexpected, though perhaps prudent."
"W-who are you?" she heard herself say, though it felt as if she had no input in saying it whatsoever. The shadow man's lips made a little wet popping sound that told her he was smiling. "Who am I? Nothing. Nothing and no one. You see this?" He raised a black, featureless hand. "This is the Hand That Weighs The Gold. That is who I am, too, when all is said and done." He raised his head, and she understood him to be glancing out at the Great House Girls. He shook his head. "They have forgotten their duty, in time they must be corrected. Wedding and bedding awaits each and every one of them, to be sure. For now, however, it is your turn." He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her inside, slamming the door shut behind her. "She is here," Alicent heard him say, and when he stepped aside she saw he was talking to a mountainous hulk of a man, clad entirely in gold dragonscale armour, his face hidden behind a visored helm topped with a dragonskull. "Good," the Golden Man said, the joints of his armour creaking slightly as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "She is half-naked," he observed.
"Soon she will be all naked," pointed out The Hand. "If it please you, my liege."
"Mm, I suppose it does all come to the same, in the end."
"Indeed it does." The Hand bowed his head and walked over to the Golden Man. He leaned in and spoke softly, but Alicent heard him clear as day. "Now, do you have my payment?"
The Golden Man nodded and produced a large bag, from where she could not see. He handed it over, and there was a heavy clinking as the Hand tested the bag's weight. Dragons, she thought, sadly. Gold ones. I wonder how many I was worth, all told.
"A fair price, for a fair maiden," The Hand whispered, his voice so hoarse it was painful to listen to.
The Golden Man nodded. "You did well, oh Hand of mine; she is most comely." The Hand thanked him for his kind words, then said his farewells to the golden man and turned to leave. He paid no mind to Alicent at all, not even as he walked right past her, but at the moment of his passing, a distant light from somewhere beyond the room's singular window flashed a vivid, emerald green, bathing everything in its light. Somehow, even with it, Alicent still could not see his face. All she saw was the eyes, a pair of eyes she found curiously familiar—shrewd, brown eyes. They reminded her of her own, except they were narrower, and marked by crow's feet. "Wait! Ser? Ser!" she called after him, **** to know his name if not his face, but he did not stop to listen. The shadow man left the room, pulling the heavy iron door closed behind him. A moment later, it rattled loudly, and Alicent knew he had locked her in. "You are a lovely creature," The Golden Man commented, and she knew he was staring at her behind. She whirled round, panting. "Ser, I...I know what I was bade to come here for, I know what you want of me...and I...I..." she scrabbled to find the right words, but they simply wouldn't come. "You are afraid," he said.
Alicent paused, unsure of how truthful she should be. "I...y-yes, I am."
"Why?"
"H-how can I not be?" She crossed one leg over the other, and sandwiched her hands into the tight space betwixt her thighs. "I am nearly naked, and I do not know you. We are to..." she looked away, embarrassed. "Couple, but you wear a suit of armour and I cannot even see your face."
"My face..." The Golden Hand trailed off, considering. "Would it help for you to see it?"
"Would it..." Perhaps it would? They say the eyes are the windows into a man's soul, and it would be a relief to have some inkling into this man's soul, before he enters me. Alicent gulped, then gave a tentative nod. The Golden Man remained silent, but beckoned her toward him. For a long moment, she stayed rooted to the spot, until at last she summoned the fortitude to get closer. She stood before him, listening to the echoing rattle of his breathing. "My face..." The Golden Man repeated, and then he reached up and opened his visor, gradually revealing a black void behind it. From within, she heard a sound like the skittering of a thousand mice on cold, hard stone. Where is it? she wondered. Why...why can I not see it? An uncomfortable silence threatened to settle between them, but it was broken when the visor's hinge creaked rustily. The rustling grew louder, louder and faster, and then, so suddenly it made her jump, there came a swirling mass of dead, brown leaves, shooting forth from the gap in the visor and flying all about her, turning her entire field of vision to a confusion of brittle, shifting shadows.

Alicent shrieked, and into her open mouth flew one leaf after another. She tasted the bitter tang of decay on her tongue, and it made her scream all the louder. She felt what remained of her dress fall away, and the sensation of the leaves sticking to her naked body, covering her nipples, slapping onto the curves of her buttocks, attaching themselves to her womanhood. "No!" she yelled. "No, no please! Gods, Gods help me!"

And then, with a start, Alicent Hightower woke.

She threw off her sheets and stalked over to the window on shaky legs. The dream had been so vivid, and much of it she still recalled in snatches and flashes of lascivious debauchery. Naked, she remembered. I was...naked. Everyone had seen her, she had been so horribly exposed, and yet...
Her flower was still tingling, and unclean thoughts rattled madly about in her head. They would not go, despite her best attempts at prayer, so, throwing open the shutters, Alicent took off her shift and stood nude in front of the open window. Moonlight streamed in, and under it, her whole body was silver—even her hair appeared more white than brown. In the moonlight, if she were bold enough she might even say she looked half a Targaryen herself. But that might be taken for treason, if it found its way into the wrong ears. Alicent turned on the spot with small, shuffling movements, angling her body this way and that to examine her stomach, her hips, her breasts, her buttocks, then, finally, her flower. That silvery light from above made it resemble a pristine snowfield, broken only by the furrow of her slit running down the centre. Purity, she thought. Septa Anora always said purity was the finest virtue a maiden could possess. What she saw, what she had always tried to see, when she beheld her own body was purity. Nothing more, nothing less. To that end, she made a habit of tidying her flower religiously, reaching for the razor blade whenever she thought she could see the first fledgling hairs poking up through the skin of her mound like fresh daisies pushing through summer snows.
They were coming now; a field of short, sharp pricklies, of a brown so dark they looked almost black, spreading rampantly across the snow. Alicent ran her fingers through them, and heard from them a rustling that brought to mind a torrent of fallen leaves. Gods, she shuddered. That decided it, she knew what she must do. The blade's kiss was welcome as it swept across the snowfield, shearing away all that was unsightly and unclean. She had moved a small pot of water to the window sill, and now dipped the razor in and out of it to clean the razor as she shaved. Sweep after sweep, layer by layer, the daisies sank back beneath the snow. She rubbed it with her palm, again and again, until there was no more rustling and her mound was smooth and pale in the moonlight. Done. Alicent put the razor in the pot and left it to soak. She rubbed and rubbed her mound in satisfaction, her hands briefly drawn down to run the length of her lower lips, but she caught herself before it went too far. Against scripture, against...scripture. She calmed herself, wrapping her arms around her waist to better shield herself from temptation. Temptation is the root of sin, and sin is the means by which the faithful fall from the light of the Seven, went the mantra in her head. She was not sure how long she stayed like that, all she knew was that the moon moved a fraction or two, and that, in her nudity, she was becoming a mite cold, before her vigil was finally broken by the sound of crinkling paper somewhere behind her.
Alicent turned, and saw a white rectangle worming its way through the crack under her door. She furrowed her brow, padding over to get a better look. "A letter...?" she said, aloud. "At this hour?"

[Author's Note: I always enjoy and appreciate feedback in terms of what's working and what isn't, so please feel free to like and/or leave comments!]