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Chapter 20 by Haltandcatchfire11 Haltandcatchfire11

What's next?

Wakey, Wakey

When Dany awoke, she was upside down. It took her a few moments to realise that she was being carried between two of the Khal's bloodriders. She looked up, and saw her arms were being held by one of them as he walked in a kind of procession through the empty grasslands with the other Bloodriders either on horseback or marching next to, in front of and behind her. Then, she looked down, and saw the grinning face of a second one looking at her form between her legs. It seemed he had taken the initiative and taken on the duty of supporting Dany's legs, positioning himself in such a way that his head was between her thighs, and his face was a hair's breadth away from her vulva, and likely had been for however long it was they'd been carrying her for.

"Where...where are we going?" She asked. As if materialising from nowhere, The Elder appeared next to her and whispered. "We are returning to the rest of the Khalasar, where Khal Moro wants you to appear before him...in his private tent. If you've any sense, you'll do as he asks this time and present yourself there as soon as you can, or he might truly lose his temper..."

Dany scowled at her, and did her best to turn away from the old woman, who in turn reached out and gave her a firm smack on the bottom, drawing another squeal out of the captive Khaleesi, before speeding up and taking her place somewhere up ahead, at the front of this perverse procession Dany now found herself the centre-piece of. She recalled some of the stories Viserys used to tell her about the great hunts his father, and his father's father would organise in the great forest the Westerosi called 'The Kingswood', how they would be out there in one massive hunting party many hours, even days at a time, before returning triumphant to their camp, one great beast or another carried on the backs of the strongest of the King's hunters.

Dany wondered if this what it felt like, to live a life of freedom and self-determination, where you made your own destiny in a habitat you were born to thrive in, only to find yourself brought low, your spirit broken, stripped of that freedom, and your dignity along with it. At least, Dany thought, When the King's men hunt down a boar, the boar need not worry about its hunters wanting to fuck it.

She hung there, feeling sorry for herself as the Khal's Bloodriders carried her soap-scented, naked self back to the Khalasar's camp, wondering all the while what the future might hold for her.

What's next?

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