The Ointment is applied

Dany was furious. She was swearing in every tongue she knew, even in broken bits of Yi Ti-ish. She was stood up, ramrod straight, her thoroughly chilled tits temporarily out of sight, but in exchange, she had been **** to present her buttocks, as plump and pillowy as they'd ever been, before the assembled group of Bloodriders. By now, the spectacle (and, at least in part, Dany's loud protestations) had drawn a crowd from the rest of the Khalasar. She was able to catch only glimpses over her shoulder, but she could see people were beginning to gather: Old men with stooped postures and walking canes, Women who laughed at Dany's shapeliness, her lack of muscle mass and the roundness of her arse, young boys who were barely being restrained by their mothers, frantically prying apart the fingers placed over their eyes to catch a glimpse of her pale, naked form; all and sundry were sprinting across the grass to see the self-proclaimed Dragon Queen in the nude.

The old woman who had been tormenting Dany so far turned to the assembled crowd. "There are two options!" She proclaimed. "The girl complains of the heat, so we protect her supple skin with the sacred ointment! Now, we must choose what we protect next? The gap in the back, or the gap in the front?" Shouts went up, the Bloodriders and the rest of the assemblsd crowd already going mad with anticipation and lust. "Back!" Some shouted, but at the same time others cried, "Front! Front!"

Eventually, the Khal stood up and turned to face the people himself. "QUIET!" He roared. "I cannot hear myself think when you all squawk like this! We decide by numbers! Any man—" One or two of the women rolled their eyes. "Any Dothraki," he corrected himself. "Who wishes to see the ointment applied to the great expanse of the widow Khaleesi's backside," he grinned, and mimed carrying two round objects. Melons, perhaps. "Raise a hand now!" Numerous arms went up. Khal Moro nodded. "And those who want her front attended to?"

Significantly less hands went up. The Khal threw up his hands. "THE BACKS HAVE IT!" He waved to the old woman, and she nodded to her fellow wives. Dany had been silent until now, cowed by the sting on her arse cheek, but here she found her courage again. "You cannot treat the wife of a Khal this way! My body belongs to Drogo! Even in ****!" She insisted.

"No," The old woman's voice was very close now, she was standing right behind her. "When a Khal dies, part of him goes to the Night Lands, but the other? It goes to all the Dothraki, strengthens them, fuels them...in this way, your body belongs to all Dothraki now!" And with that, the wives' hands gripped Dany's upper body and bent her forward, the crowd cheered in response.

Dany burned with shame. She'd been naked in front of others before, but never quite like this. Never made to present herself like some common bedslave, every inch of her under scrutiny and soon-to-be touched by a stranger's cold, cold hands.

The elder wife went back to the jar of ointment and dipped her hands back into it. As if to hold the suspense for the crowd's sake, she held them there for an inordinately long time. "Do you suppose the girl is ready?" She asked them.

"NO!" The crowd replied. The old woman smiled, extricated her hands from the jar, turned ever so slowly, and stepped forward, her hands hovering directly over Dany's glorious rear-end. "Prepare yourself," she whispered. Dany gulped, she could feel a cold sweat coming on. She did not know how one prepared onself for something like this, some small part of her started praying to the Seven with the only prayer she knew.

"Mother, Maiden, Stranger...protect me...?"

The woman's hands made contact, it felt as if her behind had been submerged in icy water. Despite herself, despite her wish to remain composed and dignified, she whimpered. As before, the woman slathered it all over. Though she couldn't see herself, Dany knew she must be putting on quite the show, judging by the 'Oohs', 'Aahs' and gasps from the crowd.

The old woman looked back at them and parted Dany's cheeks, sending the crowd tittering like mad. Then, she started to rub and stretch the admittedly supple skin, kneading it like so much perky, pale dough. Dany's embarassment was abject. Her forehead burned even as her breasts and bum froze. Gods, she thought, it's like being fingered by an Other. The notion almost brought a chuckle out, but she suppressed it.