Essos – The Red Grass Sea
Vaes Dothrak

Cohollo looked on with fascination as the whip he had in his hand snaked out again, snatching another line into the flesh on Daenerys’ back, causing her to grunt in pain as another trickle of blood appeared across her pale skin.

He finished whipping her and dropped the whip down onto the table near the front of his tent. As a leader, a Khal, he had a better tent than the other Dothraki. His bunk at the back of the tent was not overly large, but it was warm and cozy, more than he had ever been used to before. Drogo bringing the white-haired Khaleesi bitch to the Khalasar had now rewarded his former bloodrunner in so many ways. Today he had managed to slip her away from Moro and the others, allowing him to torment her a little bit himself in private. Moro and himself, as well as the other members of the horde had been having fun with the pale outsider since she had been brought here, but this was the first time he had managed to be truly alone with her. The others had not protested, but he was sure it was because they had grown tired of her, in their minds they had already moved on to the next conquest. Cohollo also knew it was time, time to sell her while she still had some worth at the slave markets, before she was overused and started popping out Dothraki babies to make her pussy loose and uninviting after too many children.

Daenerys stood naked. She was chained to the pole in the center of his tent, and she could feel the stinging pain from the wounds on her back and butt from the horsewhip he had been abusing her with. She hung her head down, staring at the pole in front of her. By her count, she’d been here for three months, and in that time she’d found no way to escape her tormentors. The Dothraki horse lords, especially her husbands former Bloodrunner, took great pleasure in violating and humiliating her. She thanked the gods that none of the Dothraki had attempted to make her mate with one of their stallions, at least not yet anyway.

Her head slumped further forwards to press against the wooden pole, as she waited for the whip to strike again… and that was when she felt someone pressing up against her back, just a moment before she felt the head of an erect cock pressing into the valley of her ass.

“Time for one last ride on my second horse, ‘Khaleesi,’ ” Cohollo had his lips pressed to her ear as he pressed his chest into her back. He was going to fuck her one last time before he sold her to the slavers who would take her back across the sea to Westeros or somewhere over there. Perhaps the king on his iron chair, whom she hated so much, would buy her for his amusement too. He smiled, and laughed at the thought as he pressed his erect cock forwards against her butt hole.

She felt his cock press into her arsehole and then with a thrust he penetrated her and began to plunge the length of his cock into her sore arse. “Just hurry up and get it over with then,” she hissed in pain as her back door still resisted his invading shaft, despite the fact that she’d been raped there several times since she’d been here.

“Don’t be in such a rush, Dragon whore,” he grunted as he began to fuck her harder and faster, driving his cock in and out of her arsehole. “When we are done, you’re going to the slavers, and where they will take you I don’t know or care. Savor these last few moments with us,” he laughed at her as she gasped, either from shock or pain, he couldn’t say.

“That’s it, bitch,” he thrust in and slapped her rear hard. He held the back of her head with his other hand, pressing it into the pole. He felt her flinch from the pain and her asshole squeezed his cock involuntarily as he fucked her. “Squeeze my cock, you know how I like it,” he slapped her ass again, and felt her flinch again. He would remember this for the next prisoner he took, the horsewhip first and then a firm hand on the injured cheeks caused a most pleasant reaction.

“Yes, that’s it, show me how much you love your Khal,” he slapped her other cheek and groaned as her arse clamped down on him again, and she grunted in pain and discomfort. Daenerys hated that she reacted like this each time he slapped her, but try as she might, she could not stop her body from reacting as it did to the pain.

He took hold of her pale cheeks, spreading them apart to look down at his dark cock as it plunged in and out of her little pink hole. He enjoyed ass-fucking her most of all… it just seemed like something she wouldn’t do if it were up to her, and he wanted them to end this way. He pulled his cock right back, the tip dancing around the opening to her abused anus, and then with a satisfied grin, he plunged it back into her again as deeply as he could. He watched lustfully as he did this two or three times more, watching her skin stretched around his cock as he pulled it out, and then as he pressed into her it stretched inward and then magically gave way to allow him access to her tightest hole.

With a final thrust and a slap to both cheeks, he groaned and came inside her arse as he felt her arsehole clench tightly around his cock. He plunged his cock in and out of her a few more times as his cum continued to shoot out of his cock, and then with a satisfied sigh he pressed all the way inside her again so that he could slump forwards against her and enjoy the sensation of his cum seeping out of him as her ass tightly clenching around his cock like a ring.

Cohollo felt his cock slowly deflate as he stood there, and then he began to pull it back out, and a moment later her butt ejected it and it popped back out to lay against the white skin of her thigh. “I am done here,” he yelled back towards the tent opening as he turned and slumped down on his chair nearby, grabbing a wineskin off the table and drinking from it greedily.

Two of the Dothraki men came into the tent, their eyes took a moment to adjust and then they took in the sight before them, Daenerys’ white arse pointed at them as she stood strapped to the pole, with a trickle of white cum oozing from her clenching hole as she tried to recover from being forcibly fucked again.

“She is ready to be taken to the slavers,” he nodded to her, and then saw the looks on their faces as they leered lustfully at her. “After, you have had your fill of her, of course,” he laughed as they both jumped at her with a grin.

Daenerys groaned as one of them began groping her tits again. She hoped this would be all over soon, and at least she would never have to see these foul creatures ever again.

“Where are my dragons?” she wondered to herself, playing out the fantasy in her mind Drogon coming back to rescue her, to burn this Khalasar to ash. Of Rhaegal and Viserion being freed from beneath Meereen, that three large angry dragons would burst in and rescue her. No one was coming to save her, and she was snapped back out of her fantasy as she felt one cock plunge into her pussy from between herself and the pole, and then the other plunge into her sticky asshole from behind. She felt herself double penetrated in her two poor abused holes, and hoped this would be the last time, but knew in her heart that any number of indignities probably awaited her as a slave, especially if they sent her to Westeros. She just hoped the Lannisters wouldn’t find her and buy her, the last thing she needed was to become the slave of that sick boy-king, Joffrey. She’d heard about his twisted persuasions.


Scarlett hated lying to Jorah.

Three months. They had been looking for Daenerys for nearly three months, and they hadn’t found her yet. Of course they hadn’t. Scarlett had led him wrong. He needed to look, he wouldn’t have been Jorah Mormont if he did not, but Daario had not disappointed her… the sellsword had found her in one of the Khalasar’s to the south. According to his last missive, she was going to be sold soon. When she was, he was going to buy her and keep her… safe… until Scarlett needed her.

Three months seemed like an excessive amount of time, but she didn’t want to break Jorah’s heart by telling him that she had taken her dragon and fled… even thought she had known that day was coming. Still, her time had not been wasted. She had been doing other things in that time, working with a Pentatoshi merchant she knew, scouring the Narrow Sea for something she had seen in the flames… but now it was here.

She felt the crimson sword in her hands, wondrous and magnificent. It had been sunken in the sea, right where she had seen it, but even six centuries spend beneath the waves had not tarnished the majesty of it. It was Valyrian steel, the only explanation… and that meant that this sword must be the long lost Brightroar, the ancestral sword of house Lannister, lost long ago. She was not delusional… she knew it was very unlikely that this sword had even been the mythical Lightbringer… but it had been made its image. And with her effort, Lightbringer could be made whole once again.

Unfortunately, the sword’s arrival meant that it was time to break then news to Jorah.


“It’s not true,” Jorah protested. The inn they were staying at did not have overly large rooms, so he was standing close to her as they talked… she liked that. “She wouldn’t simply leave.”

“My lord, your queen is rather famous here in Essos,” Scarlett said softly. “And a dragon is hardly subtle. It has been months, and we have heard nothing of Drogon, nothing of Daenerys. I have seen it in the flames… she was flying over Asshai, heading for Sothoryos. I was born in the city, I know it well my lord… there is no mistake.” She rested her hand on his chest as she spoke, looking directly into his eyes… or trying do. He was avoiding them.

She hated lying to Jorah.

“Look at me, my lord,” she begged. “Daenerys is gone. I am sorry, but she is…” She lowered her head, finally meeting Jorah’s eyes, making him look at her… feeling his get lost in her own gaze even as she lost herself in his. “We can’t follow her, my lord… But… working together… we can bring her back.”

Jorah looked at her, his fists clenched in frustration. “How? She always runs from me,” he said, frustration plain in his quiet voice. “How can we do the impossible and make her change course?”

Scarlett steeled herself for the big lie. “By making a gift of what she desires the most, my lord. Together, we will take the Iron Throne for her.”

Jorah laughed darkly. “You would choose the only gift more impossible than making her love me,” he said.

The Red Priestess shook her head. “No… it can be done my lord,” she said as she reached into the pack behind her, removing the wrapped bundle from it and passing it to Jorah. “R’hllor is with us, my lord. Behold, his chosen blade.” And he unwrapped the cloth. Jorah’s eyes went wide as he looked upon the gorgeous crimson blade. “Forged in ancient times, it is the sword to unite the world beneath one banner, during the days of the long night.”

“There is only one man who R’hllor would bestow Lightbringer upon, my Lord… Azor Ahai. Destined savior of the world. Can you doubt R’hllor favors you, my lord? Do you think he would save your life for no reason?” She smiled into his gaze. “You have a glorious destiny… I can see your doubts, my lord, but I have none. The Lord of Light is with us, we cannot fail.”

Jorah held the sword in his hands silently. She rested her hands beneath his, feeling the roughness of his hands, the strength in them. “Let me show you… the Unsullied need a leader, Westeros needs a savior, and your love needs a kingdom. Come with me, and I will show you… all you desire will be yours.”

Jorah, still holding the crimson sword, let out his breath in something that might have been a sigh, or a sob. “What do I have to lose?” he whispered, so quietly she could barely hear.

She hated lying to Jorah.

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