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Game of Thrones: Baelish Broodmares	By : The_Lithomancer Category: A through F > A Song of Ice and Fire Views: 122586 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: "I do not own Game of Thrones or the characters or places from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story."

Chapter List
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The pale fingers of dawn crept through the window and suffused the torn and piled clothing dotting the floor with a cold winter’s glow. It wasn't long before that same faded sunlight greeted the bedpost with its amiable embrace, curling up and around the rich oak before it recoiled at the depravity that greeted its virgin expanse. Thick gluey splatters of pale-yellow sperm hung like dense cobwebs all over the expansive bed, the viscous sludge staining the sheets like depraved gooey fingers stretching towards the prone woman at its epicenter. Nevertheless, the dauntless advance of the winter morning passed over the filthy lattices of gelatinous seed and kissed the porcelain-hued skin of the bewitched Lady of Winterfell known as Sansa Stark.

She groaned as the light lathered her elegant face in it’s silent plea to escape this madness, but Sansa was too far gone to even consider the notion of freedom. Thick smears and lattices of slimy sperm adorned her blank expression as the mindfucked slave licked her luscious pink lips; her disheveled auburn hair crowned with thick worm-like ropes of that mind-numbing sludge. Sansa shuddered as she felt last night’s filth squirming all over her transfigured body, her empty blue eyes evident of her masters meticulous brainwashing, leaving nothing of her original personality untouched in his quest to turn her from the proud daughter of Catelyn Stark into a depraved broodmare. As the mindfucked slave slid down her new husband's body, she felt that raw instinctive urge to be as close to his bloated cum-factories as she could, all thanks to her masters expert machinations in transforming her into an absolute cum-addict.

A slow wanton moan issued from Sansa’s throat punctuated by a disgusting “Squelch!” as Petyr’s softened shaft slide out of the swampy morass of lukewarm jizz that had been fucked into Sansa the night before. She shuddered as a wave of pleasure crashed into what was left of her mind, now a mindless heap of mush that needed to be a rape-ditch for her perverted masters glee. She slithered underneath the heap of soft fur blankets with a demented smile born of lust and perverted desire, leaving behind a trail of warmed spunk as her breasts rubbed against Petyr’s lower body.

“I need you,” Sansa mewled pathetically as she stared obsessively at the tubular silhouette of her master's fat cock draped over his bulging balls, leaning in and loudly sniffing up and down Petyr’s cum-slathered shaft. Sansa’s eyes immediately dulled as she inhaled Petyr’s brain-rotting musk, an addicting byproduct of her master's cum factories producing all that gelatinous sludge that rendered her a brainless broodmare in heat. She licked up and down his limp shaft, feeling it surge to life as she piled thick mouthfuls of cooled spunk on her tongue, audibly swallowing with a delightful shudder as Sansa felt it slide down her throat and pool in her stomach.

But as the last trace of lumpy ball-batter slithered down Sansa’s throat, a surge of chemically induced lust razed any remnant of decency left in her, turning her masters grotesquely enlarged manhood into a divine font that demanded her love. Sansa leaned in and parted her lips, lavishing Petyr’s hardened shaft with lewd kisses and lust-addled licks until it tented the blanket and exposed the inquiring stare of her husband.

“The old Sansa would never have loved you the way I do,” Sansa moaned out as she sucked in one of Petyr’s balls and began lewdly massaging and slurping on it, like a dumb pig at the divine trough between his parted legs. “I’m happy she’s gone.”

Spurred on by Petyr’s light groaning, Sansa popped his fat nut out of her mouth and arched her back to expose her massive balloon-sized tits greased up with thick jellied lattices of sperm that refused to dry. She slapped his magnificent shaft between the mouthwatering valley of her cleavage, a blank smile plastered on her face as she pressed her tits together and offered an enticing boob-pussy for her master to fuck silly.

“I love what you do to me,” Sansa moaned out as Petyr began tit fucking her with slow, but rough thrusts; Every upward motion of his hips sent the tip of his shaft within reach of Sansa’s glossy, dick-pampering, pink lips. Her empty blues eyes stared at her master as she sloppily made out with his tip every time it slide invitingly against her fat bimbo lips. A moment later, in a fit of fuck-drunk lust, she licked a gooey wad of leaking cum from his large piss-pipe and groaned out, “You fuck me senseless, cover my body in your seed, and just when I think it's over you mindfuc-GLUCK!”

Petyr cut off her cock-addled praise as he gripped two large handfuls of her silky auburn tresses and slammed deep inside her sluttified mouth-pussy, her cum-splattered breasts completely abandoned as he plunged his ivory fuck-spear down her throat; a thick bulge highlighting his large crown as it began spewing large wads of sludgy pre-cum into her belly. Sansa’s eyes were completely devoid of thought as she gagged each time her head was forced up and down the jutting pillar of cockmeat, her lips stretching thinly and forming an airtight seal as her wanton fellatio permeated the room with disgusting “SHLORP! SHLORP!” sounds; akin to a newborn suckling at a mothers milk-engorged tit.

Sansa lifted her thick ass high in the air, like a bimbo-brained pig-slut in heat, jostling the fur blanket draped over those immaculate half-moon globes seemingly sculpted from the purest marble as they jiggled gently as if begging to unload the liters of disgusting ball-batter packed meticulously in the slutty fucked-out depths of her ass-pussy.

“Breakfast, please Master,” Sansa whimpered, punctuating her addled begging with lewd smacking noises as she kissed Petyr’s engorged dickhead, her bubble ass swaying to and fro before she suddenly began drilling his outrageous girth down her throat. Sansa’s dainty hands cradled her masters pulsating balls, moaning in anticipation as each bloated nut began to churn it’s massive load of mind-melting nut custard and force it up his girthy shaft. Her tongue traced lewd lines up and down his ivory-hued tower of quivering cockmeat, hearing and feeling the muffled “Pbbht!” sound as a surge of chowdery cock-syrup exploded in thick worm-like ropes of potent seed.

A loud disgusting squelching emanated from under the blanket as Sansa squirted out the massive creampie stuffed in her tight twat, her eyes rolling up in her head as she felt Petyr’s hot lumpy cum squirt down her throat. To Sansa, this was absolute Heaven as the wanton cumdumpster felt her cheeks balloon out like a slutty chipmunk, spasming as overwhelming torrents of orgasmic pleasure erased any remnant of dignity she possessed; leaving behind a domesticated cock-hungry sperm-toilet currently ejecting the liters of lumpy sperm as she orgasmed just from having him spray his seed inside her stomach.

Sansa’s lewd version of breakfast seemed to go on forever as Petyr erratically slammed his thick phallus down her throat, painting the inside of her stomach a obscene off-yellow as he rewarded the well-trained fuck-sow with a fresh load of addicting sperm. His groaned mixed with her depraved melody of gagging, moaning, and audible swallowing as he pumped the last gooey squirt of cockmilk down her throat-pussy, loving the feeling of her tongue continuously milking him for every glob of sperm she can coax from his massive balls.

As soon as Petyr let Sansa go, she lifted her head and opened her mouth, gurgling the last mouthful of glue-like cream and swishing it around lazily with her tongue. She gazed up at him with her empty blue cow-eyes as she slowly chewed and steered the lumpy batter around with her raunchy tongue; her mouth packed to the brim with his hot spunk. Sansa felt a vague sense of pride as she swallowed down the last of his creamy treat with an audible “Gulp!”, intoxicated by his immense satisfaction just from watching her gargle down his spunk like a filthy slut. She squealed as she felt immediately rewarded with him rolling her over and pinning her down on the cum splattered mattress, pinning her arms on either side of his head as he leaned in close.

“As much as I’d like to stay here and rape you into a mindless heap, we have a kingdom to rule,” Petyr said, smiling thinly as he began laying out the groundwork for his latest scheme. Her expression was completely vacant, utterly entranced by the sheer overpowering will of his dominance as he tapped into the most corrosive of the enchantments properties; the ability to brainwash the victim at will. It was this potent display of power that Petyr utilized to devastating effect, rendering Sansa a shell of her former self and replacing sections of her personality with a depraved and more idea substitute, completely devoted and obsessed with being his personal tool.

“Chaos is a ladder, my little sow,” Petyr growled out, sliding his half-hard shaft against the plump mounds of her squelching cunt. He felt that searing need to fuck her as he looked down at the flawless expanse of her curvy body, completely defenseless as he continued mind-fucking her. But it was the sapphire blue of her dull and half-lidded eyes, glimmering with the raped remnants of her innocence that pushed Petyr to slide his fat shaft up the cum slathered tunnel of her tight cunt. A vacant smile graced Sansa’s lips as Petyr began whispering in her ear, his thoughts slithering inside her head and completely decimating any free-will or decency not yet polluted by his brain-warping sperm or eroded by the complete reshaping of her identity from hours of his potent brainwashing.

But as the last instruction pierced the veil of her addled mind and imprinted itself in her personality, Petyr felt his plans finally come to fruition, causing him to increase the speed and force of his thrusting cock until her lewd love tunnel conformed perfectly around the girthy pillar of his manhood. Before her pussy could milk his cock for every dollop of gooey seed, Petyr stared down at his fucktoy, angling her face to force her glassy eyes to stare directly at him.

“Finally, my little rape-ditch, you are my rung,” Petyr groaned out before he unleashed a torrent of filthy sperm to drown Sansa’s womb.

Petyr sat down at the trestle table that marked the head of the room, a pompous, entitled attitude oozing from his slender frame as he patiently waited for his breeding bitch to take her seat. A thin smile was etched on his features as he surveyed the empty Great Hall of Winterfell, euphoria nearly making his cock stiffen as he exalted in his avarice. But as Sansa took her place next to him and gazed adoringly up at him with her baby-blue eyes, he basked in his greed once more as he leaned to his left and began whispering his poison in her ear.

“Remember,” Petyr whispered, his words slithering inside Sansa’s head, igniting her pleasure centers and causing her large breasts to jiggle gently as her body delightfully spasmed. “Your role is to play Sansa Stark, not the cock-addicted fucktoy that would sell her womb for a load of cum, but the proud Northern Bitch these people adore.”

A needy moan issued from Sansa’s throat as Petyr wrapped the choker around her pale throat, tightly fastening it with just enough give to remind his mewling cockslave who was in charge. But despite the repeated reminders he drilled inside her head as they made their way down to this god-forsaken hall, Petyr couldn't suppress the pang of anxiety fluttering in his chest. This was the first time Sansa had been among her people in the weeks since he used Melisandre’s enchanted choker to bind Sansa’s irrevocably to his perverted will, and despite his meticulous brainwashing, he had no way to discern the risks of allowing his enthralled fucktoy to lend her support in advancing his agenda.

But as he slid his hand from her neck down to the mouthwatering swell of her massive breasts, proudly presented by the plunging v-neck of her raunchy excuse of a dress, he couldn't deny the immense satisfaction he felt by dressing up his fuckdoll just to display her like a trophy in court. Sansa thrust her chest out and groaned as Petyr began groping her lewdly, straining the skin-tight fabric of her daringly low-cut black dress to the point where the pathetic strip of fabric struggled not to tear off her bimbofied fuck-slut body. It was this display of shameless objectification that replaced Petyr’s anxiety with a filthy lust that engorged his 15-inch cock and drew Sansa’s obsessive empty-headed stare as she beheld his throbbing girth jutting from his groin with a deviant gleam in her eyes. Sansa leaned in and bit her lower lip, moans issuing from her throat as her left hand irresistibly crept downward to wrap her dainty grip around as much of his swollen shaft as she could.

But as much as Petyr desired his sluttified fuck-sow to milk his God-like shaft, he grabbed her trembling hand just short of his cock, his gaze demanded that she beg for it like the degraded slave she was molded to be.

“Please...I’m still hungry,” Sansa begged, licking her lips as she tilted her head up to kiss him. “I’ll be whatever you need me to, just feed me, fuck me...your hands groping my fat tits feel so good Master.”

It was moments like this that made Petyr feel he was overindulging his glorified cock-sleeve as he released her hand, giving her permission to play out whatever fantasy bubbled up from her cock-addicted mind. He watched as Sansa’s hand slid slowly underneath the waistband of his trousers, barely managing to wrap her hand around his obscene girth, but releasing a lustful moan as he leaned forward and kiss her luscious cock-worshipping lips. Their tongues squirmed around each other’s like a pair of wild animals as Petyr fondled her diamond-hard pink nipples, eliciting a submissive squeak from the auburn-haired bimbo as her glistening thighs squelched as she rubbed them together.

Sometimes, it slipped Petyr’s mind that Sansa was even a person and not some depraved slut-sow he purchased from Volantis. But as much as he wanted to lounge in this hall and savor her skillful cock massage, his enjoyment was cut short when their guests arrived. The thick oak door at the entrance of the hall creaked open and promptly slammed shut, simultaneously heralding the imminent arrival of both Lord Glover and Lord Royce and prompting Petyr to quickly push Sansa off him, his hand reluctantly pulling away from her alluring bosom and leaving the empty-headed slut to straighten her dress. But instead, Sansa pressed her hand close to her face and inhaled the slimy off-yellow sludge covering her slender fingers, snorting up his pre-cum with the shameless grace of a drug-addled slut-pig. With a dreamy sigh, Sansa licked the remaining chunks of lumpy goo off her fingers, her eyes dilating as torrents of brain-rotting ecstasy left her with a drugged high.

Yet somehow Sansa managed to compose herself by the time Lords Glover and Royce rounded the corner and greeted the pair while they marched their way to their table. Petyr thinly smiled as they stopped just short of the table, bowing respectfully to Sansa even as they cast lavishing glances at the lewd expanse of exposed porcelain-hued tit-flesh her plunging v-neck enticingly showcased.

“My Lords,” Petyr said, raising his arms in welcome and jolting both men from their conspicuous examination of his fucktoys bimbofied body. “I take it you finally have an answer for me?”
Both Lords gazed at each other knowingly for a moment as if silently trying to determine which one should speak first. Naturally, it was Lord Glover who broke the silence with his commanding tone that echoed throughout the barren hall.

“Lord Baelish, we have indeed come to a conclusion amongst ourselves,” Lord Glover began, affixing his icy stare at the Lord Protector of the Vale. “But we require one thing before we can continue.”

Petyr tilted his head to the side, slightly irritated at the hesitation of Northern men. But his smile never faltered, only thinned tautly as he responded with his typical reasonable tone. “And what do the Northern Lords need to put their minds at ease, Lord Glover?”

“It would put our hearts at ease to hear from Lady Sansa,” Lord Glover simply said, turning his gaze back towards raunchy slave that was once the proud and resilient Sansa Stark. “My Lady, do you truly feel we should appoint a new ruler?”

Sansa immediately felt the compulsion to turn her head and seek the advice of her undisputed owner, but she somehow knew that would give away the ruse. Instead, she stood up in her chair and proudly thrust out her chest, inviting the lecherous gazes of both elderly men as she tilted her head out and uncharacteristically giggled.Petyr raised his eyebrow slightly as he beheld his brainless cocksleeve acting no different than the depraved thrall that deep-throated him at dawn, causing him to doubt his ability to mold her personality.

“My Lord, you have no idea how much I adore your candor,” Sansa purred out sensually, placing her palms on the table and bending her upper body over the oak table. Her skin-tight satin dress struggled to accommodate the massive swell of her melon-sized tits, providing an intoxicating display repressed by two paltry strips of satin, deeply dented by her hard nipples poking against the soft fabric. Even Petyr struggled to contain his mounting arousal as a lecherous urge to force his submissive rapeditch to present a lewd boob-pussy for him to plunder caused his impressive girth to throb mightily between his legs. But the other two men were completely caught off guard as fantasies played out in their minds from the infectious arousal slithering between their legs, forcing both dignified lords to sport needy erections that dress Sansa’s gaze irresistibly downward.

When Sansa spoke, it was directly to the pair of phallic shaped indentations bulging between Lord Royce and Glover’s respective legs, licking her lips as she fantasized on how each cock would feel as they slid down her throat pussy and deposited their chunky ball batter directly into her belly. That's what truly motivated the enthralled Lady of Winterfell as she parted her luscious pink lips.

“I need your honesty more than ever,” Sansa groaned out, her slick thighs betraying desperate need as rivulets of hot arousal slid down her legs. “I need all of it to fill me...with hot pride as I share all of my love with you in return…”
Perhaps Lord Glover nor Lord Royce read between the lines as Sansa exuded her cock-lust from every pore of her porcelain-hued skin, filling her words with the filthy innuendos that barely encompassed a fair response to his question.

“My Lady, if I may, I find it most desirable that you love your people so much. But I think Lord Glover was trying to ascertain if naming you Queen in the North is a wise choice like Lord Baelish claims.”

Sansa bit her lip at the mention of her master, gazing sideways at him and shuddering delightfully as she imagined the molten reward that would be fucked into her womb if she said yes.

“You can place all of your faith inside me,” Sansa lustfully breathed out, tugging at her revealing dress as if entertaining the idea of tearing it off her body and fucking the brains out every man in Winterfell. “It would be such a joy to share my love with each of you and fu-”

Sansa’s train of thought crashed and burned when the massive oak door suddenly squeaked open once more, admitting the last person Petyr wanted to see. Melisandre serenely parted the tide of alarm and confusion that poured from Petyr and the Northern Lords as she forged her way before them and curtsied politely.

“I apologize for my rude interruption, but time is not my ally,” Melisandre said, confidently asserting herself into the conversation as Sansa’s seductive spell over the Northern Lords shattered.

Petyr’s eyes narrowed as he quickly tried devising a way to salvage the intent of this meeting. But time was no ally of his either, and when he found no other alternative other than to address the rude priestess.

“Lady Melisandre,” Petyr said with a condescending smile plastered on his face.” we all have important matters that are time-sensitive but let’s discuss this in private.”

“I want what we agreed upon, Lord Baelish,” Melisandre declared, crossing her arms across her chest as she pointedly ignored the other two lords present. “You clearly have overindulged in the fruits of our exchange.”

“My Lady, I could not have allowed myself to do business with those exiled because of infanticide,” Littlefinger quickly replied, sneering at the voluptuous red priestess as the Northern Lords in attendance lent their outcry at such a deplorable crime. Melisandre’s eyes narrowed as he tried worming his way out of their agreement, warily watching Lord Glover out of the corner of her eye as he gripped the hilt of his sword.

“The crime of infanticide is death,” Lord Glover growled out as he drew his gleaming longsword, his disgust emanating from his ice-cold eyes as he glanced at Sansa as if to silently beseech the ruler of Winterfell to pass the sentence. But Sansa’s eyes dulled as the ruby choker affixed to her neck began to glow, her body swiftly glistened with a thin sheen of sweat as an overwhelming surge of pleasure and sexualized hunger raged through her.

“I don't think you’re welcome in these halls,” Lord Petyr said with a smirk that instantly had Melisandre tempted to reach forward and slap it off him. “I believe it’s time for you to leave.”

But Melisandre refused to be outmaneuvered by an arrogant minor lord who owed every moment of his newfound authority and dominance to her arcane ability. Before Lord Glover could raise his sword and threaten the red priestess into compliance, Melisandre directed her wrath at the brainwashed Lady of Winterfell. Sansa arched her back and moaned helplessly as an oily presence slid over her body, making her skin crawl as it burrowed into her ears and possessed her with its filthy embrace.

Sansa plastered a demented smile on her face as she climbed onto the table and turned around, raising her thick round ass high in the air as she hitched up her skirts and whimpered as she bounced her sweat-coated asscheeks much to the horror of both Lord Glover and Yohn Royce. She spasmed as a devastating orgasm tore through her, a reward from Melisandre’s infectious magic as she obediently twerked like a cheap cumdump, moaning while she continued to squirt her intense orgasm all over the table.

“Sansa,” Melisandre said cooly, preying on the outrage and horror sputtering from the Northern Lords as she gazed at Littlefinger and smirked in triumph.” Who are you really, my dear?”

For a moment, all Sansa could do was roll her hips as if fucking an imaginary monstrous cock, her primal animalistic instincts reigning unchecked until she turned to Melisandre and gazed at her with an empty cock-addled expression.

“Sansa’s a rape-addled cocksleeve sperm-addict that loves to have her slutty holes drowned in her master’s disgusting fuck-sludge,” Sansa flatly groaned out in the fervor of her self-destructive masochism. It was clear that the thing possessing the body of Sansa Stark reflected her own self-concept of worthlessness, relaying her own addiction to being a mindless cocksleeve destined to be an equally brainless pregnant slut-pig. But deep down, Sansa was little more than sexual relief slave and a tool used in the tug-a-war between Melisandre and Petyr, and as her cerulean eyes rolled up in her skull while she sprayed a massive orgasm down her thighs; the animal that was once Sansa Stark loved it.

“And who’s your Master, Sansa?” Melisandre asked as she turned to Lord Glover met his conflicted gaze. “Who would have you degrade yourself into mindless sexual servitude and use you like a puppet?”

Sansa turned to Petyr and licked her lips, her mind swarmed with force-fed fantasies of getting on her knees and raping her throat-pussy with the obscene monster tenting his trousers. No longer did she see Petyr as her undisputed master but she could not deny herself the luxury of fastening her wrapping her dick-sucking lips taut around his cock and milking every drop of delicious addictive seed from his bloated balls.

“Master,” Sansa breathlessly moaned as she climbed off the table and squatted in front of Petyr, her nostrils flaring as the intoxicating musk of his obscenely large cock crawled up her nose. She painted a masterpiece of lewd kisses and wanton licks up and down Petyr’s shaft before fastening her ample lips around his crown, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked the filthy issue bubbling up from his fist-sized nutsack. Sansa couldn't help but moan at the delicious taste of his lumpy sperm sliding down her throat as she began bobbing her head down to the base of his shaft and gagging.

Lord Glover’s expression curled with distaste as loud “Glurk! Glurk! GLUCK!” sounds emanated from Sansa’s bulging throat as she bobbed her head faster as more gelatinized sperm oozed down her throat. Rage and disgust evident on his face as he turned and sheathed his sword and said, “This is no Queen of mine!” before storming out of the hall, a resounding slam of the oak doors heralding his departure.

Lord Royce followed closely behind, a tinge of sadness mixing with his own disdain from witnessing the once proud and resilient woman reduce herself to a mere whore. He turned when he reached the end of the hall, shaking his head dramatically as he rhetorically asked, “What happened to you, My Lady?”

But Sansa didn't care. All that mattered to her was milking Petyr’s cock of every glob of his divine cock gravy by stretching her lips into thin lines as she met the base of his cock, her tongue slithering towards his bloated balls in a desperate attempt to feel the exquisite warmth and pulse of his cum factories.

“My sweet little Sansa,” Melisandre said, deigning to allow such an obscene word to leave her lips. “Will you allow me to be a guest in your halls?”

Sansa stopped bobbing her head for a moment, her half-lidded vacant expression transforming into a foul combination of untapped intelligence and depraved lust. She pulled herself off Petyr’s shaft with a loud gasp, licking her lips clean of his spunk as she turned to Melisandre and bit her lower lip.

“Feed me more cocks, more cum, more yummy orgasms and you can stay here as long as you like,” the auburn-haired fuck-sow promised, smiling at the victorious priestess. With that, Melisandre turned to Petyr and mockingly winked as she sashayed out the hall, leaving him fuming with rage as her subtle spell wore off. As the oak door creaked shut, Petyr turned his full attention to the Rapeditch that proved to be his undoing, grabbing her auburn tresses and slamming his throbbing phallus down her throat.

“You...were...supposed...to...convince....them...to..lend...their...support!” Petyr growled, punctuating each word by slamming his girthy shaft down her throat. Sansa’s arms hung limply at her sides as she convulsed, her eyes rolled up to the whites as she came her brains out as she was brutally punished for her failure. But despite Petyr’s cruel desire to rape every iota of Sansa’s mind and body to quench the burning rage searing his chest, he felt his orgasm rapidly approach.

“Uhhh..you dumb little fuck-pig….ruining everything,” Petyr groaned out as his shaft pulsing and shot sticky ropes of his yellowish fuckslime down Sansa’s glorified mouth-pussy. Petyr watched through unfocused eyes as Sansa’s lips stretched into thin pink lines as he forced her lips down to the base of his erection, cutting off her air as he bucked with each explosion of lumpy cock chowder he fucked into his slave-wife-to-be. His groaning further increased as Sansa’s tongue spasmed erratically up and down the underside of his cum-spewing Throat-raper, milking his cock to the fullest extent of her cumdump prowess as she sprayed another lewd orgasm all over the stone floor.

Sansa felt the sweet embrace of unconsciousness reach out to claim her as Petyr finished pumping his gelatinous jizz inside her, leaving her with a raunchy cum-belly as he reluctantly pulled her off him. Petyr roughly smacked her and watched as the thick strands of sperm connecting her parted lips with his softening shaft vibrated and bounced erratically. He knew he had to assert his dominance over her to the point where he alone reigned supreme over her thoughts and instincts. With her arms dangling limply at her sides, Petyr held her up by her hair as he contemplated how to punish his filthy cumdump. He watched her barely-conscious expression stir as he slapped her again, not allowing her the mercy of unconsciousness to spare her from what he had in mind.

“When I'm done with you,” Petyr spat out as he forced her head back to stare at him with her bleary eyes, his tone contemptuous and uncaring. “You’ll never dream of failing me again…”

Sansa’s eyes stared into space as she mooed, shuddering as she began to feel his invasive mid rape her own into submission, all thanks to the enchanted choker glowing around her neck. But Sansa was far too gone to ever realize that, all she could do was accept her punishment and hope for another meal of hot salty sperm.

A content sigh issued from Melisandre’s throat as she settled into the tub of steaming bath water, closing her eyes as she enjoyed it’s delicate caress as the lazy current embraced her pale body. Even as the red priestess braced against the maelstrom of political chaos and heightening fear, she still indulged in the luxury of a hot bath to cleanse away the impurities of her self-doubt. Melisandre reclined in the ornate wooden tubs comforting allure, wanting nothing more to be swept away by the dreamy waves undulated from every subtle moment of her ample body, finding the silence and peace of her chambers akin to the eye of the fierce storm that raged around her.

But as an insistent knock besieged the gift of tranquil peace and quiet of her chambers, Melisandre allowed the faint traces of annoyance to grace her smooth features. She had been poised and expectant for this for hours, waiting for Littlefinger to have the nerve to show up at her door and arrange to repay her for the allowances she afforded him, but not at this late hour while her guard was down. Another barrage of enthusiastic knocks raged against the calm and quiet of the night, tempting Melisandre to address her obtrusive visitor.

“Lady Melisandre, may I come in?”

The unmistakable voice of Sansa Stark flowed like sweet honey from behind the door, amiable and polite yet tinged with a depraved sexuality that oozed with its corruptive influence. Melisandre tilted her head to the side and sighed inwardly, resigning herself to greeting the woman that she indirectly enslaved.

“Of course you may, Lady Sansa,” Melisandre replied, a platonic smile shooing away her impolite frown only to be replaced by a raised eyebrow when she heard a vapid giggle on the other side of the thick oak door. Melisandre began wetting her hair as Sansa entered the room, observing the sluttified Lady of Winterfell out of the corner of her eye as she sashayed towards her. Melisandre felt a tinge of guilt lance her heart as torchlight suffused Sansa’s magically modified figure clad in exotic black lingerie that clung to her skin possessively, a mouthwatering display of sensual bouncing and jiggling that proudly displayed the handiwork of a perverted master. Melisandre shivered at the thought of Sansa’s mental state as the young women blankly smiled and squatted next to her tub.

“May I help you with your hair?” Sansa asked sweetly as she gripped the edge of the bathtub, her large tits inadvertently mashing against the smooth wood as she unconsciously pushed her chest out. A strange musty odor wafted from Sansa’s body, held at bay by the heavenly aroma of Rose oil that permeated Melisandre’s bathwater, but still managing to cause her nose to wrinkle. Melisandre could feel Sansa’s energetic enthusiasm to help her, and in spite of her initial wariness, she relented with a slight nod of her head and reclined against the tub’s slanted edge.

“Did he send you here to placate me?” Melisandre asked as Sansa squatted in an unladylike fashion behind her and applied a liberal amount of coconut oil to her crimson tresses. For a moment that seemed to stretch into an eternity, Sansa couldn't response, her hands caressing Melisandre’s fiery hair with a lovers caress while her eyes lecherously crept up and down her slender figure: sliding enticingly over her full breasts capped by those luscious pink nipples that tempted Sansa to lean down to suck each one.

“No, My lady, I just had to come see you,” Sansa answered breathlessly, her dainty fingers dexterously applying the fragrant oil. “I had to thank you…”

With a jolt, Melisandre felt that metaphorical dagger sink in deeper, serving to add to the accumulation of repressed self-doubt that lay buried within her.

“Why?” Melisandre asked, her curiosity getting the better of her even though she knew she would hate the answer. “You have nothing to thank me for.”

But as Sansa leaned in close and inhaled the sweet aroma wafting from the breathtaking hue of her hair, she vehemently disagreed. Sansa’s lips painted the masterpiece of her gratitude as she kissed Melisandre’s cheek repeatedly, breathy moans escaping from her parted lips with each affectionate kiss as she responded.

“I have everything to thank you for,” whispered Sansa sensually in Melisandre’s ear, punctuating her reply with another sweet caress of her luscious pink lips against Melisandre’s flawless cheek. “It was you that made me like this, that showed me how much I love my Master, all thanks to this beautiful piece of jewelry you enchanted for me.”

But Sansa wasn’t finished. The tantalizing surge of programmed affection and dirty lust that swirled chaotically in Sansa’s empty head urged her to do more, say more, and feel more of Melisandre’s beautiful body. Sansa gasped breathlessly as she wrapped her arms around Melisandre in a backwards hug, pleasure tingling up her arms at the mere touch as she leaned in close to whisper the words that desperately needed to escape her lips.

“I need you,” Sansa moaned out as she licked her way up Melisandre’s cheek, shuddering as pure pleasure danced on her tongue. “It feels so good to think about you, to hold you...to touch you. It’s why I needed to come here. I want you…”

Sansa tried to slide her hands down to Melisandre’s full breasts, her fingers trembling as she ached to grope those breathtaking mounds. But her exhilaration was cut short as Melisandre’s wet hands gripped her forearms, cutting off her probing fingers as she asserted herself.

“No,” Melisandre said forcefully, turning to gaze at the licentious slut as it curiously seeking her true motive for being here. “We shouldn't do this.”

Sansa ignored Melisandre’s rejection, parting her lips as she leaned in and simply whispered, “Yes” before swooping in and planting a loving kiss on Melisandre’s cherry-red lips. For a moment, all Sansa could focus on was the pure pleasure suffusing her lips, groaning into the heavenly embrace until Melisandre came to and quickly moved her head away.

“You need to leave,” Melisandre said, still reeling from the kiss. But Sansa had other ideas in mind that Melisandre wanted no part of. As the raunchy slut irresistibly leaned in for another kiss, Melisandre tapped into the enchantment coiled around Sansa’s throat. Sansa’s eyes dulled as the ruby highlighted in the center of her choker glowed, shuddering as she felt Melisandre probe her thoughts and feelings. Sympathy graced Melisandre’s expression as she combed the mind-raped expanse of Sansa’s mind, confirming in mere moments that there was nothing left of her: Just the shameless obedient whore that Petyr demanded of her.

“What have I done,” Melisandre said sadly as she reached up and caressed Sansa’s cheek. Sacrifice’s made for her Lord was something Melisandre could easily tolerate and justify, but as she continued to gaze upon Sansa’s glassy-eyed stare, she couldn’t justify this. “What has he done to you…”

Melisandre restrained a gasp as Sansa’s eyes suddenly brightened, wrenching the red priestess grip on her mind with startling ease. Depravity and sheer lust-addled insanity radiated from Sansa’s cerulean eyes causing Melisandre to shudder as Sansa leaned in and giggled like a brainless two-copper bimbo.

“He fucked and fucked my dumb whore-pussy until he knocked me up,” Sansa lewdly purred out, whispering sensually in Melisandre’s ear. “He covered my body in his yummy fuck-milk and melted my brains as I orgasmed and gulped down his cum..It felt so good…”

Melisandre quickly turned her body around, shock racing up and down her spine, adding to the guilt pulsing through her heart as she took in Sansa’s raunchy expression and the shameless depravity that squatted before her. Thick lattices of viscous cum stuck to the flat creamy expanse of Sansa’s stomach, adding to the potent reek of sperm that suffused her body. Melisandre finally placed that musty smell, the pure undiluted stench of hours of perverted sex that covered every inch of Sansa’s lingerie-clad bimbo body with thick smears and splatters of gelatinous off-yellow sludge. Melisandre bore witness to many horrors in her unnaturally long life, but as her eyes glanced down to the pool of gooey cockmilk oozing down the valley of Sansa’s cleavage, she knew that this was all her fault.

Sansa stood up and sashayed over until she stood a foot in front of the lengthwise expanse of Melisandre’s bathtub, tearing off the straining lingerie and freeing her cum-splattered body from its body-hugging embrace. She turned her head to Melisandre and released a brain-melting slutty giggle as she squatted down, her eyes half-lidded and devoid of any reason as she blankly smiled.

“I’d really love to show you,” Sansa moaned out as she tilted her head up to the ceiling and parted the massive spherical swells of her thick bubble ass, displaying her unmolested anus and cum-splattered plump pussy. Before Melisandre could protest, Sansa began to grunt like an animal and moan loudly as a torrent of filthy gelatinous spunk began to squirt out of her silken fucked-out folds! Melisandre couldn't tear her eyes away, horrified as Sansa vacated her womb of every glob of Petyr’s sludge-like cum, spasming as torrents of crude pleasure melted any remnants of higher thought in the vapid bimbo’s brainwashed mind. Sansa eyes rolled up in her skull as she orgasmed just from the sensation alone, causing an extra splatter of rancid white-yellow cream to spray from her raped love tunnel. Sansa’s nostrils flared as she got on her hands and knees, clearly intoxicated by the pile of lumpy sperm pooling all over the stone flooring. She raised her massive ass up in the air, both sperm-flecked cheeks jiggling erotically as she stuck out her tongue and began to lap up the pool of delicious sperm with audible gulps and noisy slurps like a pig snorting in its trough.

“You kissed a filthy jizz-addicted animal," Sansa moaned out brainlessly as she slurped up another massive glob of thick viscous cum, opening her mouth and chewing it noisily as if presenting an offering for Melisandre’s amusement. But the red priestess was frozen in shock and fear, unable to tear her gaze away, but equally powerless to stop the wanton slut from gargling a lewd mouthful of gooey sperm.

“Did you know how many times I deep-throated my master's cock and swallowed down his yummy cockmilk when you kissed me?” Sansa moaned out after gulping down the paste-like nut-butter, spasming pleasurably as the addictive treat slid slowly down her throat. “I thought I was too much of a worthless cum-drunk fuck-pig to be kissed like a person…”

As Sansa’s mouth descended hungrily upon the pool of lumpy cockchowder, Melisandre felt a sickening surge of disgust run through her, freeing her from the shock and guilt of what her mistake did to Sansa. Careful to avoid the lumpy morass of cum spreading out across the floor, Melisandre climbed out of the tub and rushed to Sansa’s side.

“Sansa...No!” Melisandre cried out, forcing the enthralled woman's face away from the oozing pile of sperm, gazing with tear-stricken eyes at Sansa’s vacant, fucked-out features, and sperm coated body as she hugged her close and whispered out, “I’m so sorry!”

Sansa was completely still as Melisandre hugged her, revealing herself to be little more than an enslaved cumdump whose only sole purpose in life right now was to gargle down every mouthful of sperm that pooled all over the stone floor before her. A single tear fell down Melisandre’s face as she slowly pulled away from Sansa’s naked body, searching for anything that could free her from the perverted enslavement of Petyr Baelish. But her thoughts were cut short as Sansa embraced her in the most loving of hugs, causing Melisandre to nuzzle against the curve of Sansa’s neck.

“I’m sorry too,” Sansa whispered out as her hands moved away from Melisandre’s back. “You’ll never appreciate how good this feels until you want it…”

With a barely audible “Click!” Melisandre felt a familiar weight on her neck, sending her into a panic as she tried to pull away from Sansa. But the raunchy slut held her close, refusing to her go as she started lewdly licking and kissing up and down her cheek. Bursts of mind-numbing pleasure coursed through Melisandre, causing her slender body to spasm in Sansa’s arms as she arched her back and released a loud moan. She wanted to fight and rip the infernal piece of jewelry off her neck, but all she could do was tilt her head up and unleash a melody of lustful groans and pleading mewls that turned Sansa on just by listening.

Sansa opportunistically swooped in and lewdly kissed Melisandre, her tongue squirming against her crimson lips for a moment before sliding inside and coiling around her lithe tongue. Melisandre could taste the faint traces of filthy cum coating Sansa’s tongue and could smell its musk with each breath Sansa exhaled from her mouth. She wanted to be disgusted, she wanted to hate it even, but it smelled so good. Sansa’s exaggerated moans mixed with Melisandre’s needy mewls as they she leaned in to tongue-fuck the embattled priestess as the enchantment took its toll on Melisandre’s mind.

It was this potent mixture of lewd moans and tongue-muffled mewling that invited Petyr to enter the fray, knowing his brainwashed slave completed her task with stunning results. Aggressively, he crossed the room and cupped Melisandre’s face roughly, pushing Sansa out of the way like a discarded toy.

“You dumb bitch,” Petyr vehemently spat, tilting her head up and feeling a surge of satisfaction pulse through him as her eyes gradually dulled and half-closed. “I’m going to mind-fuck you worst of all until you atone for what you did earlier!”

Melisandre spasmed weakly as she felt the sensation of cruddy filth coating her body, causing her to shudder as the sensation heralded the tide of brain-melding body modifications sculpted to perfection by Petyr’s meticulous perversion. A thin sheen of sweat coated Melisandre’s glistening body as her breasts ballooned outward until they were FF cups that defied gravity as they hung enticingly on her slender frame. Her hips unconsciously thrusted back and forth as her ass swelled, forming a jiggling lewd bubble ass that gleamed in the raunchy caress of the rippling firelight. She whimpered in relief as she temporarily felt his filthy influence abate, her lips thickening slightly and turning a deeper red to match the darkening crimson shade of her hair. But Petyr wasn’t done with her. He had to punish her for getting in his way and depriving him of his dream. Melisandre’s knees weakly buckled and bent as she struggled to stay upright under her own power, held upright by Petyr’s hands cupping her face as a barrage of overwhelming pleasure caused her to orgasm her brains out. She released a stream of wanton moans as she began to grow an obscenely large girlcock, 15 inches long and 2 inches wide, punctuated by a pair of bloated mango-sized balls that squirmed and throbbed as her thick fertile sperm sloshed inside.

Melisandre’s eyes were half-lidded and dulled as she felt the degrading organ grow and harden between her legs, shockwaves of sloppy pleasure pulsing from her cock obliterating her resistance as she spasmed and shuddered in Petyr’s iron grip.

“Disgusting,” hissed out Petyr as he beheld the majesty of his depraved influence on Melisandre’s body. “Another worthless rapeditch to serve as a brainless fucktoy…”

But Sansa thought otherwise as she lavished her gaze on every swell and curve of Melisandre’s newly modified body, obsessively watching the crescendo of depravity as a thick pulsating cock grew and hardened between the red priestess’s creamy thighs. Fantasies slithered through the brainwashed mush of Sansa’s mind, sending the auburn-haired fucktoy careening into a crude orgasm as she shuddered and gazed longingly at Melisandre’s swollen Cum Factories churning her divine seed.

Fortunately for the corrupted Lady of Winterfell, she was about to play one of her perverted fantasies out as Petyr released Melisandre, watching the Red Woman sink to her knees and arch her back as another primal surge of hot lust rocked her to her very core. Petyr dug his hands into the side pocket of his robes and produced a miniaturized cowbell, taking a moment to look at Sansa lecherously as he began to vigorously ring the bell. Sansa’s eyes glazed over as her mind emptied, entranced by the heavenly sound produced by the bell as her programming activated: becoming entirely his to sculpt, brainwash, or simply to whimsically fuck silly. Petyr took great satisfaction in prodding her like a docile animal, moving and positioning her on Melisandre’s bed with her thick bubbly ass raised as he dumped Melisandre’s coconut oil all over her enticing asscheeks. Sansa mooed softly as if pleading him to stuff his god-like cock up her silky love-tunnel and breed her up nice and proper, but Petyr harshly spanked one of her thick asscheeks at a time, each oil-coated massive globe jiggling and bouncing as he taunted her, the creamy sweat-covered flesh reddened with the imprint of his hand.

“Raunchy little Fuck-sow,” Petyr growled out as he spanked her again, forcing loud submissive squeals from his mind-addled cocksleeve. “You couldn't even contain the last load I packed inside your womb!”

But as Petyr turned around, the final slot of his insidious scheme slid smoothly into place as he grabbed a handful of Melisandre’s silky crimson tresses, forcing the lust-addled priestess to stare directly into his eyes.

“Let's make a new deal,” Petyr offered enticingly with a triumphant smirk. “You need to fuck, don't you? As much as you try and resist, you need to breed? And what better broodmare is there than the one prostrating herself right in front of you? You could be the first one to fuck her exquisite ass. Accept this as much end of the arrangement...and you could dump your foul seed inside her slutty depths!”

Melisandre felt that slimy temptation slither through her thoughts, corroding her admirable resistance to the enchantment. But Melisandre couldn't deny the throbbing need pulsing between her legs, demanding a tight hole to fuck and breed. A thick glob of cum welled out of Melisandre’s swollen cockhead, gushing from the cavernous pisshole and releasing the faintest aroma of ripe cherries. To further add to the torment her temptation posed for her, Petyr rang the cowbell yet again, attracting Sansa’s attention as he simply ordered, “Beg”. Sansa let out a wanton moan as her hands slapped down on both her asscheeks, parting her perfect thick bubble ass to expose the puckered crown of her virgin anus.

“Please Bust my fat ass!” Sansa moaned shamelessly, adding a mixture of pathetic moo’s and cock-hungry mewls to augment her masochistic begging. “You can own my slutty ass and dump your yummy sperm deep inside! Please use me so I can touch myself like a dumb fuck-slut late at night while I fantasize about yummy cocks fucking me!”

Melisandre couldn't take it anymore, she had to rape and breed Sansa’s slutty ass into submission! She crawled slowly as a depraved sexual hunger etched itself on her flawless features, becoming more like a primal alpha shemale breeding her submissive broodmare than a red priestess of R’hllor. But she was far too overwhelmed by the greasy lust coiling over every pore of her skin, making her feel absolutely filthy as she climbed onto the bed and started rubbing the underside of her sensitive shaft between Sansa’s asscheeks.

Melisandre moaned without restraint as she hot-dogged Sansa roughly, spraying squirts of viscous cherry-scented sperm that oozed slowly down Sansa’s asscrack. But Melisandre’s fat cock demanded more, and as she licked up and down Sansa’s back, she was going to finally give into that filthy urge. Melisandre gasped as she grabbed her sensitive shaft and positioned it against Sansa’s puckered asshole, desperately trying to push it inside her.

“I’m going to rape your ass into submission like the stupid cumdump whoring breeding-sow you are!” Melisandre spat out as she grabbed Sansa’s hips and gritted her teeth, releasing a few throaty grunts until she managed to pop the crown inside Sansa’s ass with a loud “Squelch!”

Sansa’s eyes rolled up in her skull as a thunderous masochistic orgasm electrocuted her from head to toe, spasming in Melisandre’s arms as the red priestess gripped her shoulders to fuck her girth deeper inside the constricting maw of Sansa’s blissfully tight anal tunnel. Without even the slightest whimper of protest from the auburn-haired butt-slut, She gave in to the masochistic glee of being Melisandre’s Anal Cocksleeve, her lubricated anal tunnel constricting and massaging every inch of cock that Melisandre slid down the exquisite fuckhole.It felt like pure heaven as Melisandre slammed in and out of Sansa’s ass, her huge balls swinging and slapping against Sansa’s clit as pure animalistic lust wiped all higher thought from her mind save for breeding the voluptuous broodmare. If Melisandre was even capable of thinking, she would have understood Sansa’s massaging anal fucktunnel was nothing more than a distracting to get closer to her, to brainwash her and make her entirely his, but as he cupper her cheeks from behind: Melisandre didn't even care.
“You’re just a brainless animal now,” Petyr declared, sliding his cupped fingers over her face as the enchanted choker glowed around Melisandre’s slim neck. “A Dumb filthy creature that needs to rut and breed.”

Somehow, Melisandre innate magical ability warded her from the most debilitating effects of Petyr’s brainwashing, but he still managed to erase whole portions of Melisandre’s personality and replace them with a sex-addicted animal that need a slutty set of whore-holes like Sansa’s to rape senselessly and drown in hot sweet sperm that churned in large balls. Melisandre spasmed on top of Sansa, practically laying on top of her as her eyes glazed over while she fought the urge not to orgasm and give in. But her hips still mechanically thrusted inside Sansa’s slutty ass, too enraptured by her divine anal tunnel milking her every inch of her cock. The first and last thought Melisandre managed to conceive before orgasming, was how easy it was for them to brainwash and enslave her to their whim.

With a loud prolonged moan, Melisandre spasmed and began dumping the gooey contents of her bloated balls inside Sansa’s ass, her breath coming in short spurts as she soundlessly screamed out her ecstasy. White-hot pleasure melted her brain into a puddled mush as Melisandre’s eyes rolled lewdly up inside her skull as she squirted thick lattices of creamy cherry-smelling girl-spunk inside Sansa’s thick ass. Melisandre couldn't help but instinctively imagine breeding up Sansa, watching as the divine expanse of Sansa’s creamy stomach to swell with her crimson-haired child only for the wanton bimbo to squirt it out and feed it from her engorged tits brimming with sweet milk.

“You’re nothing more than a slave to your disgusting fat cock, aren’t you?” Petyr asked tauntingly, sporting his own erection as he watched Melisandre fuck Sansa’s ass senselessly. Despite all of her fortunate resistance, Melisandre found herself agreeing as her rock-hard girl-cock drilled inside Sansa’s ass, hungry for another searing wave of addictive mind-blowing pleasure. Melisandre moaned wantonly as she buried her girth inside Sansa’s tight ass, refusing to allow even a dollop of her creamy cum to escape Sansa’s cum-guzzling anal maw. Her cock only got harder as the corrupted priestess yanked on Sansa’s auburn hair, forcing the fuckslut to tilt her head back and expose the fit of orgasmic ecstasy playing out on her face. Sansa’s eyes were rolled up firmly in her skull, her tongue hanging from her mouth like a slavering animal, panting like a bitch in heat as she obediently humped back against Melisandre’s cock in a fit of masochistic self-destruction. Melisandre didn't have to read minds to understand that the filthy fuck-sow wanted to have her ass gaping and full to the brim with Melisandre’s sweet cream.

But Melisandre could feel herself teetering on the brink, her breath coming out in quick bursts as she buried her magnificent Girlmeat inside Sansa’s clenching rape-tunnel, her balls slapping against her pussy with an audible “Fhap!” A crude sloppy orgasm unlike any other spasmed through Melisandre, wrenching a scream of pure ecstasy like a wild animal dumping its fertile seed into a submissive mares slutty depths. Her hips bucked forward with the force of her engorged pisshole squirting explosively inside Sansa’s packed asshole. Sansa whimpered as her stomach ballooned outward, a beautiful cum-belly that sloshed with thick gooey seed as Melisandre vacated every drop of her potent sperm inside Sansa. Sweat-covered and exhausted, Melisandre laid on top of Sansa, their breathy pants intermixing with each other as sleep reached out to claim both of them. But Petyr had other insidious ideas in mind. He grabbed a handful of Melisandre’s wonderfully soft crimson hair and yanked her to the floor, her cum-covered cock sliding out of Sansa’s gaping ass with a disgusting “SPLORT!” He took a moment to gaze at the empty expression plastered on the fallen priestess’s face as she sat on the floor, her eyes staring blankly at nothing as the remnants of her mind-blowing orgasm wiped all rational thought from her mind.

Petyr then grabbed onto Sansa’s hair, eliciting a weak gasp from the fucked-out broodmare as he forced her to squat with her ass hanging off the bed, perched above the gently spasming fiery-haired shemale as a soft rumble emanated from Sansa’s stomach.

“Let it out,” Petyr ordered a split second before Sansa groaned and evacuated the massive creampie fucked up her bowels. Thick splatters of gooey nut-custard exploded out of Sansa’s thick ass, her gaping anus puckering as streams of thick gluey cum slid down Melisandre’s face. But the fallen priestess didn't move a muscle except to lap up lewd tonguefuls of the hot Cherry-flavored thick fuck-sludge that got too close to her mouth. Petyr laughed as Sansa finished vacating every dollop of cum all over Melisandre’s body, adding his own copious orgasmic sludge all over the mind-fucked priestess as he released Sansa and pushed her onto the bed, Her ass raised up in silent offering with her gaping anus winking and unable to fully close.

“No Loose ends,” Petyr arrogantly spat out, leaving the cum-covered former worshipper of The Lord of Light to mindlessly lap up her addicting spunk off the floor.
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Game of Thrones: Baelish Broodmares