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gwaynesprincess · 2 days ago

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I'm so glad that you like it! Thank you for reading! 💚

Good Boy

Content: NSFW, face riding, cunnilingus, praise kink, poor self-image, discussions of BDSM etiquette, safewords, handjob

Note: This exists in a modern, alternate universe where Aemond is very submissive. I intend to turn this premise into a collection of loosely related drabbles with little to no plot. Also, thank you to @peachysunrize for encouraging me and for making the GIF that I used! 💚

Aemond fucking loved when you sat on his face. There was something absolutely wonderful about you smothering him with your cunt and using him for your pleasure. He hooked his arms around your legs, pulling you closer, prioritizing eating your pussy over breathing. Above him, you moaned, rocking your hips as his nose ground against your clit deliciously.

“You’re doing so well,” you gasped, clutching the headboard desperately as your third peak drew closer and closer. “Aemond, you’re so good.”

He groaned happily, working his tongue inside of you as you praised him. He had always thought that he would never enjoy letting someone else be in control of him in such a vulnerable state, but you always seemed to know exactly what he needed. You were so gentle, so kind to him, that he was afraid that you would leave. How could someone like you want someone like him? He could never understand, but he could try to convince you to stay by committing to making you cum until you physically couldn’t anymore.

You had made him promise to tell you if he couldn’t breathe, but he was tempted to ignore the lack of oxygen in favor of bringing you pleasure. He wanted you to tell him that he was good, and he wondered if you would do so if he told you that his head was spinning. What if you were upset with him? He could tell that you were getting close, and he didn’t want you to be disappointed in his weakness. However, he remembered the last time that he had tried to keep going. He had almost passed out, much to your horror. While he had been more than alright, he was completely confused why you had been so saddened by his willingness to suffer for your pleasure. You hadn’t told him that he was good, despite him making you cum four times, because you were so concerned for him. But that had been four times, and this would only be your third…

He whined in panic; he didn’t know what to do, so he desperately tapped on your thigh and tried to pull your cunt closer at the same time. You pulled away from him immediately, searching his face for some kind of hint as to what was wrong.

Fuck. He was suddenly afraid that he shouldn’t have tapped your leg. “‘M sorry,” he mumbled, trying to pull you back down. “I’ll try again, ‘m sorry. I’ll do better, I’ll fix it.” Gods, what was wrong with him? He should’ve just let you ride his face until he passed out, but he had to go and fuck it up by being pathetic and weak.

To his horror, you crawled off of him. He froze, fear coursing through him. Were you going to leave him? He needed you to stay and care for him. What did he need to do to make it up to you? Whatever it was, he could take it.

And then, you did the most surprising thing: you pulled him into your arms and began to caress his hair. “There’s nothing to fix,” you said lightly, gently kissing his temple as you carefully wiped your own slick off of his chin. “You did the right thing by asking me to stop. I’m very proud of you, Aemond.”

A warm feeling erupted in his chest at your words, one that he didn’t quite know what to call. He was very confused why you were telling him that he did a good job, but he liked the way that you were holding him. He hesitantly nuzzled you, a lovely feeling encasing him when you pulled him closer. He let himself enjoy the sensation for a moment longer, then swallowed hard. “I don’t understand,” he mumbled, loathing himself. “I’m sorry, I don’t get it. I must be stupid.”

“Oh, Aemond,” you whispered. “No, you’re not. What don’t you understand?”

He whimpered, squirming until he was able to hide his face in the crook of your neck. “Why are you proud of me?” he asked, his voice small. “I made you stop; I didn’t make you cum again.”

You gently stroked his hair. “You didn’t need to. This isn’t good for me if you’re hurting. Stopping isn’t bad. You were very good because you let me know that you couldn’t breathe.”

Aemond felt warmth pool in his stomach when you told him that he was good. He was quite certain that he was being bad now, since you were trying to help him understand and his cock was hardening. “I just want to make you happy,” he said softly.

“Oh, my sweet boy,” you murmured, “I will always be happy when I am with you.” Aemond felt a smile threaten to make itself known on his lips at your words. He blushed slightly when you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, and he gasped when you slowly wrapped your hand around his swollen cock. “We will need to talk more about this later,” you told him, “but I wish to pleasure you now. Would you like that?” He nodded vigorously; you shook your head. “Use your words.”

“Yes,” he blurted. “Please, yes. Stroke my cock, please, I beg you.”

“Good boy,” you said, slotting your mouth against his own as he whimpered in delight at the praise.

You began to slowly jerk him off, your grip wonderfully tight. Aemond whined as your thumb circled the swollen head, a shiver running through his body as he hesitantly bucked upwards into your hold. It felt so good, having your warm hand work him towards his end.

“I wish you could see yourself,” you whispered against his lips; Aemond whimpered. “You look so pretty, fucking my fist.”

“Please,” he gasped. “Faster, please, I need it faster.”

You complied with his request, moving your hand rapidly along his length. Your thumb gently traced his sensitive tip, gathering his precum and using it to make his cock slick. He couldn’t believe how good it felt as he rolled his hips faster, his cheeks burning at the wet sound that was proof of the mess he was making in your soft palm.

“I hope you like your treat,” you said, gently stroking his hair with your fingertips as your other hand worked quickly on his aching prick. “You were so good for me, fucking me with your tongue and making me cum. And you’re so pretty when you let me jerk you off. Are you close?”

He was embarrassingly close. Aemond could feel the coil in his stomach tightening at your praise. He nodded desperately, then buried his face in your neck. “Yes, I’m close. Please, I’m so close.” He needed you to tell him that he could cum. He was going to go mad if you didn’t give him permission.

You kissed his forehead. “Good boy. Cum for me, Aemond.”

He would have been ashamed of the whorish moan he let out, but he was too focused on how good it felt to worry about how he sounded. Spots danced in front of his eye as his entire body tensed, his cock spasming in your palm as he came all over his stomach. You continued to stroke him throughout it all, helping him to ride through his high as he shuddered and whimpered. He needed to feel like this every day for the rest of his life, he was sure of it. You were so good to him, being kind as you used him for your pleasure and rewarding him when he pleased you.

When his breathing finally slowed several moments later, he realized that he was trembling and clinging to you. Sheepishly, he let go, attempting to move away from you. To his surprise, you gently took his hand in your own, lacing your fingers through his and squeezing gently. “You were such a good boy, Aemond,” you said, smiling as he blushed. He gasped as you brought your cum-stained hand to your lips, sucking his release from your fingers before kissing him. He whimpered as you slid your tongue into his mouth; he could taste his own cum and it was fucking hot.

When you pulled back a few moments later, Aemond smiled at you, reveling in the warmth that bloomed in his chest. He hesitated for only a brief second before cautiously curling up in your arms, sighing in sleepy contentment as you held on to him. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

You pulled him closer, keeping him safe as he relaxed in your embrace. “Of course. Rest now, my darling good boy. You deserve it.”

For the first time in a long while, Aemond was calm as he closed his eye and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

#kind people

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gwaynesprincess · 2 days ago

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I'm pleased to report that we're going to start getting nasty very soon!!! 🤭

I'm so glad that you like it! Thank you for reading!! 💚

Corruption - Chapter Two

Summary: You sneak out to the Street of Silk, unaware of the perils that wait for you there. Upon realizing that you are not in your chambers, your brothers decide to search for you.

Content: NSFW, incest, attempted rape, groping, brothels, sex workers, depictions of sex acts, murder

Words: 3.2K

Note: I implore you to read the content warnings. Thank you to @darktrashsoulbear for being my beta! 💚

The day seemed to drag on forever. Finally, night fell and it was time for you to sneak out. After eating dinner, you told your mother that you had a headache and excused yourself to your chambers. Once you had closed the doors to your room, you quickly hurried over to your vanity, where you had stashed a shirt, a pair of trousers, a cap, and a pair of leather boots that you had procured earlier that day. These new clothes were rough, far more rough than the silken gowns that you were accustomed to. You quickly removed your dress, slip, and stockings, replacing them with the clothing of the smallfolk. You were careful to tuck your blonde locks into the cap, not wanting anyone to recognize you, for it would be scandalous if a princess were discovered in a brothel.

Once you were confident that you could slip through the city unnoticed, you grabbed a small pouch of coins and crept over to your door. “Ser Rickard?”

The knight stood on the other side of your doors, guarding your chambers, as he did every night. “Princess? What is the matter?”

“I would like some lemon cakes,” you said lightly. “Could you please fetch me a plate?”

Ser Rickard sighed. “Princess, that is not my charge.”

“Please?” you begged, praying that the knight’s gentle affection for you would win out. “Please, Ser Rickard? Could you at least fetch a handmaiden who could bring me some?”

He hesitated for a moment, then chuckled. “I suppose, Princess. I shall return in a moment.”

“Thank you, Ser Rickard,” you said. You hoped that he would not be upset upon discovering your deception, but you would rather sneak away than order him to leave. You listened carefully, excitement swirling in your stomach as his footsteps faded.

Once you were certain that he was gone, you quickly slipped out of your chambers, dashing down the corridor as the doors closed behind you. With any luck, you would have an easy time sneaking out of the Red Keep. You smiled as you hurried through the stone hallways, eager to discover the truth about your feelings for your brothers.

–

When Aegon approached your chambers, he was surprised to discover that Ser Rickard Thorne was no longer standing outside of your room. He was also rather irritated to see Aemond also approaching. “Brother,” he said flatly, hoping that his tone conveyed his displeasure.

Aemond hummed in response. “What brings you here, Aegon? ‘Tis no doubt the urge to defile our sister.”

Aegon smirked. “Bold words coming from you. Mother may not be aware of your desires, but I know that you covet our sweet sister.” Aemond’s expression was perfectly still, almost as though it were carved from stone. Aegon had always secretly believed that a statue of his brother would be magnificent, though he would never tell a soul.

“I came to check on her,” Aemond said coolly. “She fell ill at dinner.”

Aegon rolled his eyes. “I am well aware, as I, too, am here to check on her.” He observed his brother, watching Aemond catch his meaning: both of them were there for the same reason, and they would both insist that reason was innocent even though it most certainly was not.

Aemond fixed his brother with a cold look. “Yet I do not trust your intentions with her.”

Aegon snorted. “You may refrain from indulging in her because of your fucking honor, but I promise that I have my own reasons, and my resolve is as firm as yours.” Of course, his resolve was waning. He found himself wanting you more and more with each passing moment, and he needed something to temporarily satisfy himself. He was desperate to touch you, even if it would be innocent and not in the manner that he truly desired. But now, Aemond was getting in his way of even some small relief.

To his surprise, his brother seized him and pinned him to the stone wall, anger marking his face. “And that,” Aemond hissed, “is exactly why I do not trust you. My resolve hangs by a thread.”

Aegon giggled at his brother’s outrage. “It must be so difficult for you, struggling to maintain your proper air when all you desire is to bury your cock in our little sister’s cunt.”

“You have no idea what I feel for her,” Aemond snarled. “It is beyond your comprehension. I want more than to fuck her, because I care for her in ways that you will never understand.”

“You misjudge me, Brother,” Aegon spat. “You and every other person who lives, you all believe that I think only with my cock. I care for her as well, for she is the only pure being in this wretched world.”

Aemond’s grip relaxed as a pained look spread across his face. “And neither of us will ever have her,” he said quietly, “for she will be married off to and defiled by some lord in order to ensure our family’s survival.”

“‘Tis agony,” Aegon said lowly. “I desire her so, but I cannot bring myself to take her. I spend every waking moment thinking of her, desperate for any affection that she can bestow upon me, even if it be only platonic.”

Aemond hummed, expressing that he shared the same feelings. “I know that she cannot give me what I yearn for, so I take comfort in doting on her instead. She is precious to me, even if she does not understand my twisted desires.”

Aegon sighed. Speaking with his brother made him feel better and worse at the same time. At least someone shared his pain, but it was becoming borderline unbearable to exist without being able to tell you what he felt for you. He glanced at the doors to your chambers. “Perhaps we could merely check on her. Though I suppose she is likely either asleep or well aware that we are out here, squabbling like children.”

Aemond smiled thinly, raising his fist and knocking gently on the wood. When there was no response, he frowned and tried again, more firmly this time.

A thin mist of worry clouded Aegon’s mind as he also knocked. “Sister?” he called.

No response. Aemond hummed darkly as he glanced up and down the corridor. “Ser Rickard ought to be here, yet he is not.”

Aegon fiddled with the doors for a moment, then abandoned subtlety and opened them. He half expected Aemond to protest something about it being improper, but his younger brother entered your chambers without a word, clearly placing a higher value on your protection than on propriety.

Your chambers were deserted, the dress and stockings that you had worn that day lying on the chair near your vanity. Aemond quickly approached them, tracing his fingers over the fabric. “Still warm,” he said lowly. “She has been here recently.”

Aegon glanced at the screen where you usually changed your clothes. “And yet her sleeping gown is still here.”

The brothers exchanged a look, then swiftly headed for the doors to your chambers. They did not know where you had gone, but they certainly intended to find out.

–

Even from outside the brothel, you could hear an erotic slew of noises. Still, the sounds could not sufficiently prepare you for the sight that you were met with when you entered the establishment. Everywhere you looked, naked bodies writhed about, shamelessly embracing the pleasure that consumed them.

Suddenly, a delicate hand landed on your shoulder. You turned quickly; in front of you, glancing at you through hooded eyes, was a woman barely clad in a skimpy silk gown. “May I be of service to you, my lord?” she asked lowly, her voice dripping with lust. Your eyes widened in surprise; she gasped, evidently recognizing you. “Apologies, Princess!” she said hurriedly.

You shook your head quickly, desperate to keep your identity secret. “No!” you whispered. “No one may know that I am here!”

She glanced around, her pale gray eyes twinkling as an amused smirk reached her lips. “Princess, this is hardly the place for a lady who wishes to be discreet. It is also certainly not the place for a princess.”

Your face burned at her words. Perhaps your disguise was not as good as you had thought. But if you would not be able to discreetly observe the carnal actions of others, maybe she would be able to aid you. “There are things that I need to know,” you said nervously, “things which I do not understand.”

She arched her brow at you, clearly understanding the meaning behind your words. “If that be your wish, Princess, then follow me.”

You anxiously fiddled with your hands as you followed her through the pleasure house. All around you, there were incomprehensible things being done. You saw a woman on her knees, sucking a man’s cock as he pushed it down her throat. There was a man busily thrusting into a woman, her legs thrown over his shoulders in what must have been a painful position. Two men shared a woman, one busily fucking her cunt while the other took her arse. And finally, there was a woman writhing around, a man’s head buried between her thighs. You did not understand how these people knew to act like this, nor how they felt such evident pleasure, as it was etched on their faces as they screamed in bliss.

Finally, the woman led you into a secluded corner of the brothel. She pulled a curtain back, revealing another woman, one who was clearly busy entertaining a young man. Your eyes were wide as you took in the way that she gently swished her hips, pulling the young man closer and closer to the embrace of pleasure. When she realized that she was being interrupted, she glanced in your direction. “Saera, I shall be with you shortly. This young man has paid well, and I intend to make the most of his time.”

The woman next to you, Saera, took a step forwards, her ink-black hair a long curtain down to her waist. “Madame Sylvi, I’m afraid that it is urgent. We have company.”

Madame Sylvi glanced at you again, realization striking her as she quickly dismounted the young man. “Apologies, Princess,” she said, picking up a robe to cover herself. “How may we be of service?”

You stared at the young man, who was writhing about in apparent distress, his cock swollen and hard between his legs. You had seen a cock before, having grown up in the Red Keep, but it was different to see one now. He looked like he was in pain, and it reminded you of the way that you would ache between your legs if you spent too long alone with your brothers.

Madame Sylvi followed your gaze to the young man. “Saera, see that he is taken care of.” Saera nodded, escorting him out of the room, leaving you alone with the madame. “What can I do for you, Princess?” You nervously fidgeted. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. You had no idea how to explain the situation, and what if your mother somehow found out that you were here? “Do you seek a lover?” The madame asked, gesturing for you to sit down. “I have several young men who could tend to your needs. Or women, if you prefer.” You recoiled at her suggestion; she laughed. “Or not.”

“I do not want a lover,” you said stiffly. You knew that your maidenhead was extremely valuable, as your hand was coveted by several lords. “I-I do not know what I want.”

She studied you, her gaze curious. “Do your brothers know that you are here?”

“No!” you said quickly. “They cannot know!”

She pursed her lips. “It is dangerous for you to be here alone. I cannot guarantee your safety, Princess. You ought to have asked them to accompany you here, as they both know their way around.”

You blinked in surprise. You knew that Aegon frequented the Street of Silk, but Aemond? He was usually so reserved, always careful to be the perfect son, the dutiful contrast to Aegon’s indulgences. “Aemond comes here?”

An unreadable look crossed the madame’s face. “They both frequent this establishment, although your eldest brother is known to visit other brothels as well.” She smiled thinly. “The eldest prince is known to favor bastards with pale hair, not unlike your own.”

Your cheeks warmed at the thought. Was it possible that he was imagining that the whores he fucked were you? “I did not know,” you said, not meeting her gaze.

“Your other brother stares at them as well, though he does not partake,” she continued. “But his…desires…are far different than would be expected.”

You frowned. “What does that mean?”

She shook her head. “The secrets of my trade are not to be freely shared, even with you, Princess.” She smiled thinly. “All that you need to know is that both of your brothers are skilled lovers, though their unique taste for affection would discourage many.”

A strange feeling settled in your stomach at the thought of your brothers engaging in carnal acts with women. What did she mean when she said that they are skilled? Wasn’t intercourse supposed to be dreadfully painful for the woman? Helaena’s fear had led her to become a septa, and you were well aware of your mother’s dislike of lying in her marital bed. You squeezed your legs together, attempting to dissuade the ache that was beginning to settle between your thighs. “I do not understand,” you said, shame burning your cheeks as you met Madame Sylvi’s gaze. “When you say that my brothers are skilled, what does that mean? Do they reproduce successfully?” Perhaps that was what she meant, that both of your brothers were highly capable of impregnating women.

A smile formed on the madame’s lips. “Oh, you innocent thing. Do you not know what it is to be satisfied? Are you incapable of tending to the ache between your thighs?” You gasped in surprise. How did she know? She laughed. “And you crave your brothers, do you not?” Shame burned your cheeks as you slowly nodded. “Though the appeal of your Targaryen customs is lost on me, I do imagine that you will soon be extremely well-satisfied.”

Suddenly, the curtain was pulled back, revealing Saera once again. “Madame Sylvi, they are here. Both of them.”

The madame smiled at you. “Perhaps you will be satisfied even sooner than I had anticipated.” She rose and began to follow Saera out of the room, turning to close the curtain. “Wait here, Princess.”

Anticipation buzzed inside of you. Were your brothers here? Were they going to tend to the horrible ache between your thighs, which was worsening with every passing minute? You clenched your legs again as you stared at the walls, which were covered in murals depicting various sinful acts. In one, a man’s head was buried between a woman’s thighs. Was he kissing her down there? What in the Seven Hells could be pleasurable about that?

The curtain opened with a swish, and you turned, eager to see your brothers. But it was not your brothers who stood there, nor was it Madame Sylvi or Saera.

“What do we have here?” the man slurred, smelling strongly of wine. “A little princess, all lost and alone?” He stumbled towards you, drunkenly clambering on top of you.

You quickly pushed him away, scrambling to the edge of the bed. “Please, do not touch me.”

Fear began to seep into your heart as he laughed. “And who will stop me?” He grabbed your leg, his grip bruising, and dragged you towards him. You tried to kick him, only for him to easily bat your foot away and lie down on top of you, his weight crushing you as you froze in terror. “Princess’ maidenhead, perhaps the most valuable cunt in the Realm,” he mused, burying his face in your neck and licking your skin.

Your senses came rushing back to you at the gross sensation of his tongue and you screamed, thrashing about and desperately trying to get him off of you. “Please!” you sobbed. “Please, do not hurt me!”

Tears spilled out of your eyes as he laughed cruelly, bringing a hand to your chest and roughly groping your breasts. “Nobody will hear you scream, Princess.” You couldn’t breathe, nor could you think. You desperately needed him to stop touching you, but he was far stronger than you were. You screamed again; he clamped one hand over your mouth as the other began to work the laces of your trousers. “Shut the fuck up,” he spat; you bit his hand. He snarled in pain, then harshly smacked you across the face. “You fucking whore.”

Suddenly, the curtains were wrenched open. You burst into sobs at the sight of Aegon and Aemond, terrified that they would be angry with you. The man scrambled off of you, but you already knew that any apology he could conjure up would be futile. You tearfully crawled away from him, whimpering as Aegon hurried to your side. “Fucking kill him,” your brother snarled, pulling you into his arms as you sobbed. “Oh, sweet sister,” he whispered, his tone far gentler as he slowly pulled off your cap and began to stroke your hair.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed, desperately clutching at Aegon’s doublet. “I’m so sorry.”

He gently shushed you, rocking your trembling body. “‘Tis alright, for you are safe now. All is well.”

Aemond appeared on your other side, hesitantly taking your hand. “Aegon is right,” he said quietly. “You are safe now. Nothing bad will happen to you, so long as you are with us.”

You nodded slowly, sniffling and squeezing Aemond’s hand, which was wet and sticky. You glanced at it, confused, then gasped when you realized that it was coated in blood. “Aemond, are you hurt?” you asked, panic returning to you.

He smiled thinly. “No. But ‘tis sweet of you to ask.”

You glanced over his shoulder, a strange sense of peace settling over you when you saw the lifeless, bloody remains of the other man. “You killed him for me,” you said, your voice faint.

Aemond gently cupped your face in his large hands. “Oh, sweet sister. For you, I would do much more than kill a man.” He glanced at Aegon, then back to you. “We both would.”

A lovely warm feeling bloomed in your chest at his words. Your brothers cared deeply for you, that much was evident. You hoped that they also desired you, as you were now quite confident that you desperately longed for them to do horribly sinful things to you. You had always loved them as your brothers, but now, as Aegon picked you up and carried you out of the brothel with Aemond at his side, hand on the hilt of his sword, you wondered if your affection had always been a repressed form of depraved adoration.

#kind people

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