Contains modified works from Scene Stealer from ASSTR, used with permission
Essos – The Red Grass Sea
Khal Cohollo grinned lecherously at the blonde woman before him, who’s life had just changed completely.
Outsiders believed that the Dothraki were savages, that they had no laws. That was untrue. Their culture was deep and long rooted, and their system of laws older than that of Westeros itself. Traditions had been carried for thousands of years, before even the fall of Valyria, until they had become permanent laws that simply were not broken.
When he had found Daenerys, he would have simply taken her as a slave… had he not recognized her. She had been the wife of his former Khal, the mighty Khal Drogo… before she had betrayed him. He had left her there, along with most of his fellows on the death bed of the Khal. After he had tied, she was supposed to have two options. She could burn with her husband, or she could return to Vaes Dothrak to join the other widowed Khaleesi… and that had been the last he had thought of her, until he had run across her in the Red Grass Sea.
She had told him, to his face, that he couldn’t take her as his slave. That it was forbidden to take the former Khaleesi as a slave… or to fuck one. This Khaleesi had tried to take advantage of their laws, to bend them back against the true heirs of that law. She hadn’t done her responsibilities as the wife of a fallen Khal, yet she expected the protections?
Daenerys had risen from nothing in their world. She had been only one step up from a slave, a foreigner. She had been used as a bargaining tool for her brother, to gain Drogo’s help in re-conquering his family throne. She was a gift, a plaything for his Khal to use, to impregnate with his seed, a birthing vessel for a new Dothraki Khal. Now here she was, giving orders to him as though she were a real Dothraki Khaleesi, not the painted whore that she truly was.
He had watched as the petite, white-haired beauty had bewitched Drogo, had caused him to allow their rightful conquests to be taken away. They had conquered the sheepherders at Lhazar and the women and the other slaves were their’s by right. She had no business denying them their prize, and yet she had done so. It was an old resentment, but one he had remembered… and that made it all the more pleasurable to have judged her with the others Khals in Vaes Dothrak.
She was no longer one of them. She had been stripped of her status… and there was nothing to protect her anymore.
“From this point forward, you are an outsider. A pale, painted whore. You have no rights beneath our laws, no protections. And I claim you for my own.”
“No!” Daenerys tried to lunge forwards and was grabbed by the men behind her, holding her in place before the three Khals who had judged her.
“What’s your hurry, your ‘majesty?’ Stay here with us,” the men laughed as she felt their rough hands moving over her skin while she was held. Daenerys felt a hand roughly squeeze one of her breasts as another grabbed hold of her butt through the plain, Dothraki fabric the Khaleesi widows had dressed her in.
“I don’t know Cohollo… I think I might want to keep this one,” the skinnier Khal, Khal Jhaqo, chuckled as he moved in closely to her, his nose almost touching hers as his mad eyes stared into hers. She could see every detail, the brown eyes flashing with insanity, the sweat soaked brown curls plastered to his tanned forehead, the thin little lips flecked with spittle as he breathed heavily, his fetid breath fouling the air between them.
“I think we’ll have a lot of fun with you,” he laughed as his right hand shot forwards and pressed into her crotch, moving around as he groped her.
She twisted away from him, slapping his hand. “Don’t touch me!” she roared indignantly.
“Oh, I’m going to enjoy breaking you,” he laughed and walked back to the other Khals.
“Once I’m done, perhaps. Come on whore, you’re coming with me,” Khal Cohollo indicated for the two men holding her to lift her up… and so held, she was carried towards a set of shackles. Daenerys truly began to fight now. She had seen, in extraordinary detail, that kinds of fate that befell slave women once they were chained. The Dothraki Bloodriders were far stronger than she, however. Quickly, the Breaker of Chains found shackles fastened to her wrists and a slave collar around her neck.
Khal Cohollo laughed as he grabbed hold of the chain attached to the collar and the three of them dragged her out of the tent, out into the night to look at the torchlight of Vaes Dothrak. He dragged her over to his waiting horse, attended just nearby. “Take one last look at the kingdom you would have tried to steal, whore,” he laughed and spun her around so she could see the other Khaleesi widows as they looked on, not one of them raising a finger to help her. Seconds later, she was thrown over Khal Cohollo’s saddle and he gave her a slap on her ass as the horse lunged forwards, driving her stomach down into the saddle and forcing the air out of her with a whoosh.
“I am your Khal now, and you will learn your place.”
Daenerys sat in the mud, cold and alone in the night. She was shackled with her hands above her head outside the main tent of Khal Cohollo’s Khalasar. Inside the tent she could hear the merriment, the drinking and the feasting that brought back memories that felt like half a lifetime ago. She wasn’t sure how long they’d ridden or in which direction to make it to where they made camp, but she knew that she was no longer anyone special here… she was a prisoner, and she had no idea what would become of her.
Her long white hair was muddy and sweaty after the day on the saddle, and her pale skin was grimy and covered in dust, and yet her natural beauty still shone through. Even in this pigpen she held her regal stature, as the pigs all snuggled together for warmth she was alone, chained to a pole, and yet she still looked like she was the one in charge.
One of the drunken Dothraki staggered out of the tent, stumbled over to the railing and pulled his fetid penis out and began to piss on the ground next to her.
She turned her head away in disgust, hoping none of it would splash onto her, she already smelled like refuse, she didn’t need to smell like a sewer too.
“Oh, sorry your highness,” he laughed as he realized what he was doing, and tried to aim the decreasing stream of piss in her direction, but it was too late he was finished and he had missed the opportunity. “Next time,” he smiled and staggered back inside. It seemed that they had forgotten that she was out here, or they didn’t care tonight.
“Wake up whore!” A blood runner stood before her, smiling like an idiot as he threw a bucket of icy cold water over her. Daenerys came awake with a scream, almost immediately beginning to shiver violently as the water dripped off her.
“What do you want?” she demanded, hoping to seize control of the situation.
“It’s not what I want, its what the Khals want. Khal Cohollo has been joined here tonight by Khal Moro, and several of his warriors, his bloodriders too. They have requested the pleasure of your company.” He reached up and released the chain from the shackle on the pole, and quickly slid a nasty looking dagger out of his belt.
“Don’t try anything funny,” he stared at the blade in an odd fashion for a moment, and then his attention turned back to her. “Although I would like to see how well this works on dragon’s flesh,” he giggled and shoved her forwards.
She stumbled forwards and then regained her balance, she shuffled inside the tent as the mad man made his way around in front of her to use her chain like a leash, and lead her in like a cow to the slaughter. On a slightly raised area Khal Cohollo sat with the third man who had judged her, very large, muscular man… A man who looked much like Drogo given how long his braids were. She hadn’t heard his name before in Vaes Dothrak, but she imagined that this must be Moro. His dark brown eyes lifted, staring intently from under his strong brow and locking onto her violet ones. He brushed aside the long dark hair that hung down like vines over his face, and an evil grin broke out across his face to expose his teeth, some broken, some missing from years of battle.
His eyes took in the muddy, dirty woman with a broad smile. “So this is the dragon bitch?” Moro roared with laughter. “She does not look like much anymore… but what I can see, I like the look of.”
“Yes, this is our beloved… Khaleesi,” Khal Cohollo spat the word like it was venom.
“No longer,” Moro said. “Now just an outsider.”
“Just our whore,” Cohollo agreed. A hush went around the room as he said the word, the large collection of muscular warriors and other horsemen turned and stared at her. Daenerys felt very vulnerable and exposed as she stood alone in the middle of the tent. She felt every one of those pairs of eyes on her, and she did not like the intent she could see behind them either.
“She hardly looks capable, hardly worth our time really. Just give her to the slavers and they can deal with her,” he smiled and took a swig from his goblet.
“Give me a weapon and I’ll show you just how capable I am,” she hissed. She was tired of being spoken about as though she weren’t there, and she wanted to try to win him over. She knew that the only thing these Dothraki respected was strength, nothing more. If she could sway him to her side then she stood a chance, even though she knew if they did actually give her a weapon she had very little experience using one.
“Ah, the outsider wants to become one of us again… wants to show she has some spirit,” Moro laughed. “I like that, bring her closer,” he beckoned to the bloodrunner who was still holding her leash. “I want to see her in the firelight.”
“So you’re the one who had a maegi kill Drogo, eh?” Moro reached out and took hold of her chin; he turned her head to the left and the right to get a better look at her pale features. “I have never seen the like of her before. Dragon’s blood…” He spat on the ground in disgust. “Pretty enough, but it is good her foal by him did not survive. We do not need more dragons, even if they have stallions blood in them too,” Moro could see the anger on her face, and was enjoying tormenting her.
“If Khal Drogo was here, he would gut you for this behavior,” she radiated rage from her icy cold visage; the fire in her eyes was all she needed to show them.
“You aren’t a Khaleesi any longer, whore… Drogo would do nothing, even if he wasn’t dead by your actions. If he were here, he would join us in punishing you for your treachery. Consorting with a witch! We hate maegi almost as much as we hate dragons, bitch!” he slapped her on the face, she staggered a little and regained her place and he laughed as he watched her try to hold her facade, while he could see the red mark on her cheeks starting to glow, and the tears form in the corner of her eyes as the sting of the blow radiated out from her cheek.
He sprang up to his feet and stood almost on top of her, glaring at her, and she glared back. “You have no standing here. You need to realize you are nothing. Drogo is dead and you are not a Khaleesi any longer, you are not a queen, you are not a dragon, you are not heir to any iron chair. To us you are just another mouth to feed, another liability that we have to look after,” he began to pace around her angrily. She stood her ground and stared intently in front of her, refusing to allow her eyes to be drawn by his movement.
“You are a slave,” he grabbed hold of the shackles on her wrists and jiggled the chain for effect, to remind her of the situation. “You are our property now,” he moved behind her again and gave her arse a hard slap, causing her to jerk forwards a little.
“You are a cunt on legs, nothing more,” added Khal Cohollo, and all the men nearby laughed.
“So what should do we do with this cunt on legs?” asked Moro with a sardonic grin as he returned to his chair and took another swig from his goblet, as Daenerys did her best to ignore them, hoping the humiliation would finish soon and they’d return her to the pigpen.
“I think she needs to be taught some respect,” Khal Cohollo grinned and signaled to the men behind her. Daenerys suddenly found herself propelled forwards towards the two men on their dais.
Khal Cohollo grabbed hold of her wrist and yanked her forwards, which threw her off balance, and as she began to fall forwards he quickly maneuvered her onto his lap. She found herself laying on his legs, staring up at Moro where he was sitting next to Cohollo. She felt the Khal’s hand on her buttock and she had a reasonable idea of what was going to happen next.
“No!” she struggled and tried to get up.
Moro laughed and grabbed hold of her wrists, pulling them up and away from the ground where she had leverage, placing them across his lap.
“I think you’d better calm down, and take the lesson that Khal Cohollo is going to teach you… alright?” he had produced a nasty looking serrated dagger from his belt, and was slowly running it up and down her cheek, up towards her left eye.
“Yes,” she muttered trying to nod without getting stabbed in the face. For all her experience, her power, she had faced physical harm relatively infrequently… since her brother had died. Being here, like this, brought her back to being a child in the house with the red door, afraid of her brother’s wrath… afraid of Waking the Dragon. He had hurt her plenty. Like these men were going to.
“That’s more like it,” he smiled and grabbed hold of her white hair. He yanked her head back, pulling her face up to look at him, and then he bent down to kiss her on her pale lips. She could feel the metal pressing into her cheekbone and allowed him to kiss her, but did not respond. She could taste the foul tongue as he tried to force it between her lips and teeth, his hot breath smelled and tasted foul and she had to try not to gag as he kissed her. “See,” he smiled at Khal Cohollo as he broke the kiss and sat up. “She can co-operate.”
“Well, let’s see how she likes this next lesson,” Khal Cohollo took hold of her skirt, lifting the flaps of fabric up to expose the leggings underneath. He grabbed the top of the leggings in both hands and tore them apart, the rough linen could not withstand the stress he placed on it, and after a moment it ripped apart into shreds of fabric. He continued to tear at them, exposing her pale naked buttocks, and panting with excitement and the slight exertion from his frenzied tearing, he sat back, her pants in tatters around her ankles.
She flinched as she felt the warm hand on her now naked buttocks.
“Time to learn some respect,” he said angrily as he lifted his hand up and brought it down swiftly on her pale asscheek. She wanted to shriek, but she could not give him the satisfaction, so she clenched her teeth and gave a slight grunt. Khal Cohollo grinned happily as he looked down at the red handprint appearing on the white flesh. “So you want to challenge me? I accept,” he laughed as he began to rain down strike after strike on her quivering butt.
He moved his hand up and down, covering the entire area from her waist down to the tops of her thighs. He worked back and forth over the area until her white flesh was red, and silent tears were dripping from the end of her nose to the earthen floor below her. She concentrated on the bits of hay on the floor, on the edge of the rug and how it was fraying along the edge, she counted the stitches, anything she could do to try and distract herself from the pain.
“Look are her lovely red arse boys,” Khal Cohollo ran his hand over her glowing flesh. “Shall we take a look at her hidden treasures?”
The men watching nodded eagerly and he pulled her butt cheeks apart to expose her puckered hole and the slit of her pussy below it, just peeking out from underneath.
“A cunt on legs boys, just as I said,” and they all laughed as one of the horsemen jumped forwards and clumsily pressed his fingers into her cunt, trying to slide them inside her dry, unprepared lips. A second later Moro laughed as her head snapped up and she involuntarily shrieked as the horseman moved his attack to her arsehole, and shoved an unlubricated finger forcefully inside her resisting hole.
“Now, now, boys, there’ll be time for that soon enough,” the horseman got the message and nodded to Moro as he pulled his fingers out of her and stepped back.
Daenerys was breathing heavily now, and before she could prepare herself Khal Cohollo began to flog her arse with his hand again. Her head snapped back up with a slight shriek as Khal Cohollo really let loose on her, and Moro held her wrists tightly, leaning under her, reaching down with his other hand so he could fondle her breasts through her top as they hung beneath her.
“Alright you’ve had your fun Khal Cohollo, time to get to work,” Moro had the manic look in his eye that Khal Cohollo had seen many times before. Khal Cohollo nodded, knowing that this would only lead to more fun, and he was eager to see what his comrade had in mind.
Moro pulled her to her feet off Khal Cohollo’s lap, and enjoyed the flinch on her face as the fabric of her skirt fell back down to rub against her sore arse. “Bring me the frame,” he commanded to the nearby men, and several of them left the tent quickly, smiling lustfully.
Daenerys looked around in concern, wondering what was happening now. A moment later the men came back in with a wooden frame in the shape of a letter H, on a wooden stand so it would remain upright without any other support.. There were leather straps at the top and bottoms of the two vertical poles, and they also carried in a thicker leather strap like the one she’d seen them use to whip their horses to urge them to go faster.
“What’s that?” she was concerned now.
“That’s the frame, we use it to train new slaves,” Moro took her by the back of her neck and directed her forwards towards the frame. He nodded to the two warriors and they moved forwards and grabbed her arms. Moro pushed her so that her waist was pressed against the crossbar, and the two men quickly lashed her wrists up to the posts using the leather straps attached to them.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, trying to struggle against the much stronger men.
“Time for your next lesson,” Moro took hold of the horse strap and stood back, staring intently at her, allowing the leather strap to run across his open palm and fall, before slapping it back into his palm again and repeating the motion.
She tried to kick out as the men bound her ankles to the posts as well, and then she was immobile. She was bent slightly forwards over the crossbar as the top part of the frame was further forwards than the bottom, designed to bend her over and lift her up in the air slightly, with her arms and legs bound spreadeagled to the frame.
“You can remove the dress… she has no further need for it,” he nodded to the dagger sticking out of the nearest one’s waistband.
“Oh, let me do that,” Khal Cohollo was almost purring like a desert lion in anticipation of his next kill. He stuck his dagger underneath the neckline of the damp dress where it pressed against her spine. With a sure stroke of the blade, he sliced down the length of her backbone, slicing the dress open to reveal her naked back and buttocks. He moved forwards and stuck the dagger inside the sleeve of her dress at the wrist and sliced it all the way back down her arm to the open shoulder, and then repeated it on the other sleeve. He moved around in front of her, the dress was hanging limply from her shoulders as intended. He grabbed the neckline under her chin and gave it a yank, and it came away, revealing her pale chest, her pert b-cup breasts and dusky pink nipples.
The dress now hung forwards over the cross bar, held in place by her pubic bone pressing against the wood. He looked into her defiant eyes as he grabbed a good handful of the dress and yanked it forwards, pulling it out from between her and the beam, and then dropped it in a wet heap on the floor. He stood back and then along with the rest of the men, he circled around her slowly, viewing her naked body from all sides, like a group of hyenas sizing up their dying prey. Khal Cohollo could see a hint of the white hair between her legs too as she did her best to press her thighs together to preserve her dignity.
“Fine flesh,” Moro commented as he reached out and grabbed hold of her naked buttock, glowing red from the spanking she’d received, and she flinched at his touch. “Time for your training,” he stepped back and struck out with the leather strap in his hand.
The strap came down on her shoulder blade, leaving a red welt on the white flesh. She grunted in a mixture of surprise and pain, determined not to give them too much satisfaction though. Again and again Moro struck her back and her buttocks, and then began to lash her thighs, first the left and then the right.
Daenerys’ mind was awash with pain, as the strap bit into her flesh. At first she grunted, then eventually she had moved towards groans and shrieks before finally, after a good fifteen to twenty minutes of abuse, she had begun to sob, just lightly at first. This spurred Moro on even further and his hard cock throbbed in his pants as he hit her arse with the strap again and she shrieked and sobbed, tears running down her disheveled face.
Khal Cohollo pulled a small stool over towards her and sat down in front of her, he was staring intently at her face, enjoying the tears running down her cheeks. Daenerys had never liked him, and despite his position and power, his place within her former Khalasar, he was a still a petty little man as far as she was concerned, trying to prove his worth to everyone. She glared at him through her tears, and clenched her teeth together; she did not want him to see her cry any further.
Khal Cohollo laughed as he watched her eyes suddenly pop wide open. Without warning, Moro had stopped flogging her and had moved forwards and slid his large erect cock into her unsuspecting cunt.
“No,” she grunted as the wind was driven out of her as Moro pressed her forwards against the cross bar of the frame.
“Don’t worry little slave, you will get very used to this,” Moro laughed as he drove his shaft into her resisting pussy again. “The warriors here will all have the chance to get a former Khaleesi’s pussy on the end of their cocks. Unlike your former Khalasar, my men are denied nothing, my spoils are theirs too.”
Two of the large men were suddenly before her and one grabbed hold of her jaw, and began trying to prise her mouth open. He was very strong and she could tell her would not desist; he would break her jaw before he gave up. She opened her mouth as he obviously wished her to, and then the other man roughly shoved a round metal brace into her mouth. She felt it fit between her teeth, holding her mouth open, and her lips could close around it to form an O shape. From the sides of the metal ring was a strap that they now fastened around the back of her head so it could not be easily removed, and another longer loop of leather was draped up around her neck, to fall down on her back. She realized that this mouthpiece also had reins attached to it, like a horse’s bridle. It served as a sort of gag as well; she could not speak properly, only make noises and stretch her tongue out through the opening.
With a sudden jerk on the reigns, Moro pulled her head back as his thick cock penetrated her deeply again. “You will be ridden and bred my little mare,” he laughed as he slapped her quivering buttocks and then let go of the reigns so she could lower her head again.
As she looked back down she suddenly saw a cock, right in front of her face. “Time for you to pay your respects to your new Khal,” Khal Cohollo grabbed her by the back of her head and slid his erect cock inside the metal ring, and into her mouth.
She desperately wanted to bite down and sever his fetid member, but the ring prevented her… they had thought of everything. His cock was not as thick as Moro’s or Drogo’s, but it was long. She felt it hit the back of her throat and she gagged, making him laugh in response.
“My cock will be down your gullet and you will swallow my seed before long, you painted whore,” he thrust forwards as he pulled her head towards his crotch and drove his cock in as deeply as he could, he felt it slip past the back of her mouth to tickle the top of her throat and she began to gag again. He held it there for a moment, watching her turning redder as she struggled to breathe and then he let go and pulled his cock back a bit.
She gasped and they all laughed at her discomfort. Then she was being moved back and forth between the cock in her throat and the one in her cunt. Moro was manhandling her ass cheeks and using her hips as leverage to pull her pussy back onto his cock as he thrust forwards deeply inside her. Khal Cohollo was driving his cock down her throat and the other men who had put the ring in her mouth were mauling her tits, flicking and squeezing her nipples.
Moro growled in pleasure and pulled her back to drive his cock home all the way, and then he began to shoot his seed inside her. He sighed happily and moved back, allowing his cock to slide out of her, and then with a squelch the first of his hot cum began to drip out of her abused slit as he went back to his chair.
A moment later and she felt a mouth pressed against her slit, a tongue was flicking her little button, doing its best to try and get her off. She tried to look down, to see what was going on, but Khal Cohollo pulled her head back up by the chin and shoved his cock deeper into her open mouth. He was really working hard now, he was getting ready to come and he obviously wanted her to feel as much discomfort as possible along the way.
She could feel pleasure building, unwanted pleasure as the cruel tongue between her legs was sucking on her clit. He was moving his tongue around and around; he really seemed to know what he was doing. Try as she might, she could not resist his skills and she could feel an orgasm building to her shame and disgust.
“That’s it whore, come for me, come with my cock down your throat,” Jahqo demanded as she continued to throat fuck her.
She could hold off no longer. She bucked and then slumped forwards, shuddering, trying to groan with Khal Cohollo’s cock down her throat.
“Yes, take it whore, take it…” he groaned as he felt her throat spasming around his cock and he began to shoot his hot load down her throat. A second later he pulled his cock out and allowed the remainder of his load to spray over her face, and she closed her eyes in disgust. “You can wear my seed whore, it will be your new paint. May it remind you of your place.” He stepped back and slumped down on his chair as one of the other men moved forwards and took his place in her mouth.
Khal Cohollo grinned as he watched the man who had been sucking on her clit stand up behind her, his thick raging hard-on jutting out from beneath his belt. He spat into his filthy hand and smeared it over his erect cock as he stepped close behind her and lined his cock up with her tight little arsehole, and Khal Cohollo and the others all laughed heartily as she shrieked and groaned in pain as the cruel man forcefully invaded her tight back hole.
“Get used to it whore, there’s another ten true Dothraki who wish to pay their respects to a former Khaleesi,” he pointed to the entranceway where a group of men were eagerly waiting their turn, watching as Daenerys was being violated again.
“Bring me more wine, it’s going to be a long night,” Khal Cohollo slapped one of the serving girls and sent her on her way form the tent to fetch him his wine. “A long night indeed…”