4 Chapter 4 - Arya's Marriage (Cuckquean, NTR, Humiliation)

Lyonel stirred with a waking Arya in his arms the night after, both reeking of sweat, sex, and copious cum, both's nether regions covered in each other's juices. He looked down at her smiling as she let a soft sigh pass her lips, swollen plump from his tonguerape of her mouth. Her eyes fluttered open and she remembered what happened when he told her, "Good morning, Puppyslut."

Arya blushed furiously and with a pathetic whine of shame hid her face in his chest, not looking even as he grabbed her asscheek with his hand, only squirming pitifully as she hoped her beloved husband and love would give her the mercy she felt she deserved and not bring out the whorish nature within, as she already felt herself dripping from the rough mauling.

Ha! Deserved? His bitch regained her sanity, it seems; a stupid thing for a woman, especially his wife, but he would allow her to keep it regardless. Many others would be mind-raped and shattered on his cock, but he'd keep a select few sane. And it was not out of mercy. Of course not, for what woman deserves such a thing?

No, it was out of the cruelty he held in his bestial heart. His animalistic instincts craved for toys to play with, and not just with their bodies but their minds as well. Just as he would torture Arya by making her watch as he fucked other women.

The more the thought occurred to him the more eager he got. But of course, it was her sanity that would allow her the shame and humiliation that would bring him such pleasure, so it was no surprise that he would indeed allow her said sanity.

He grinned at her and spoke, "No need for being shy, Puppyslut. We both know what happened, and we both know it was more than a heat in the moment thing. Your true self surfaced, my beautiful bitch."

She finally looked up, though the movement was greatly hesitant and shameful and quivering, and when she tried to speak out of turn, he interrupted by thrusting his tongue into her mouth and locked her swollen lips to his own and made out with her, feeding her his spit in copious amounts, a drowning amount even, of saliva, and forcing her to swallow loudly and thickly and dutifully without reprieve.

Whenever she thought he was done, she tried to pull away, only for him to regurgitate even more spit, forcing her to keep their lips together and drink it, an act of dominance to let her know he decided when they were done.

When finally he allowed her mercy, she gasped loudly and panted for air, body heaving against him. Arya chocked and coughed, spittles flying from her mouth. She tried to wipe the spit covering her lips, but he grabbed her wrist and shook his head. The sight of her lips glistening with his saliva was cock-hardening.

"When we're alone, you will only speak if I allow you to, and you will only clean yourself of my gift when I say you will."

She complied submissively with a nod, and finally spoke with saliva-dripping, trembling lips when he gestured for her to speak, "I-I know what I said, Lyonel. About letting you… fuck other women, but..." She hesitated in a way unlike Arya. It seems he fucked her well. "I-I don't feel right about it..."

He frowned, "You regret your decision?"

She nodded, averting her eyes so not to offend her master, her mate, her lover, her god. "Yes..."

He stared at her before leaning in to gently plant his lips against hers. He pulled back and stroked her face, "Then I won't."

The action admittedly surprised her, but there was no lack of joy. Elated, she laughed and planted kisses on his lips again and again, "Thank you! Thank You!"

He pulled back and threw the cover off him to reveal his cock, "Clean it, Puppyslut."

In her sane state she was unused to the treatment still, so she hesitated before instinctually, subconsciously, remembering her place, and obeyed. She sat up before leaning forward on her front to kiss it gingerly first, wanting to treat it lovingly. However, her sentiment was cut short by Lyonel's hand weaving through her hair and pushing her down completely throat his girthy length of flesh down her wet and warm tunnel. It was a rough and unloving treatment of pulling her up and swiftly slamming her down, allowing her only fractions of a second to breathe through her nose. Another subtle lesson; that no matter how much she loved him and showed it through words or actions, sexual or otherwise, he could and would treat her as a cocksleeve, for it was the natural way of things. It was her duty to pleasure a man, and even better if she suffers while doing it.

His cock throbbed inside her throat in anticipation of the misogynistic and pure kingdom he would create in time, of women being raped becoming commonplace and encouraged.

When the only thing remaining that stained his cock was her spit, he emptied out into her mouth and held her there for a few seconds to enjoy her throat vibrating and undulating from her gagging and desperate need to swallow for air. His tightened grip on her hair painfully helped to make her struggle even further, but he finally let go after a few seconds, and Arya flew back with a loud gasp, bouncing on the bed.

She struggled a few seconds to catch her air.

When she did, a knock was heard on the door, and she didn't notice Lyonel walking over to open it until the last second, and with a panicked yelp she hid her body under the covers.

The door opened to reveal a maid she'd noticed following Lyonel often, and shamed under her surprised gaze to see the amazonian 18 year old so disheveled and clearly well-fucked. The woman was very much buxom and looked quite attractive. She had blue eyes like Lyonel, and brown hair.

"The babe's asleep," the maid said, tearing her eyes off Arya.

"Good," replied Lyonel. He turned to his wife, "Come to the bath. She's to clean us."

"What?!" she exclaimed surprised. Lyonel didn't answer and went in to the next room with his personal bath and sauna, the maid following.

Arya wiped her lips of Lyonel's spit, her untrained bitch mind forgetting her master's orders, and followed swiftly. She entered to find him leaning back against the stone edge of tub as it was being filled with hot steaming water by the beautiful maid.

Lyonel admired his wife's wide hips as she hesitantly stepped into the bath, naked alongside him in front of the maid's gaze. She tried to sit in to his right side, but was stunned when his hands gripped her waist to stop her, "You will sit in front of me."

"What?" she asked like the dumb whore she was. "Why?" She seemed more saddened and disappointed than angered, but then again, she wouldn't dare be angered with her master and god-husband.

"You wiped your lips without my permission. This is your punishment."

She could do nothing but obey, and alike felt ashamed and abashed to have been reprimanded like a dog, or… like a Puppyslut, in front of a stranger.

A stranger only to her, of course. She wasn't aware of the daughter he put in the maid two years ago, the daughter she would suckle on her breast while she rode him.

Arya's eyes were still downcast in submission when the tub was filled with hot water, so it was only by luck that she managed to glance the maid eagerly taking her clothes off and throwing them in a pile in the corner. Her body was beautiful and buxom, fat breasts teeming with milk and an impressive fat arse, though not as impressive as her own, she thought proudly. Nor was her legs as voluptuous and muscled, yet it was far from unsightly when the maid dipped her thick legs and hips into the large tub, water stroking upwards until they were submersed completely right above her waist.

While Arya was the perfect mixture of muscle and fat in her curves, the woman was mostly fat, though she wasn't precisely overweight. She looked like the type of fertile wife any man would love to have. And Arya would be lying if she didn't think the woman looked fine.

The maid moved to clean Arya with the sponge in her hand, but was stopped by Lyonel's commanding voice, "Clean me first."

Arya gasped as the maid eagerly knelt beside Lyonel in the water and began wiping him clean with the sponge. The woman smooched longingly on his chest and arms and abs as she dragged the sponge across his muscles, and Arya's mouth was agape as Lyonel stared at her unflinchingly, before he turned to the maid and captured her lips in a kiss.

"Lyonel," she exclaimed and jumped to her feet, disturbing the water.

He immediately pulled away and shouted, "Sit down!"

Arya did so instantly. "I'm sorry. I won't disobey you ever again. But please, not this punishment." Her begging was a truth Lyonel had heard from many a more women he'd raped and impregnated and broken the minds of, but a reminder of how pathetic women truly are, those with fish-slut blood in their veins especially, aroused his cock as much as his faith in what he was doing and would go on to do was righteous.

He stared at her before laughing, "This isn't punishment, dear wife. This is my right."

"But you said you wouldn't fuck other women!"

He shrugged, and somehow that was worse than if he would have angrily ordered her to shut up, "I'm not fucking her."

He turned back to make out with the maid again, who after a while gave up on cleaning him and straddled him under the water, though as this whore was well-trained, she knew to lean her body in just the way so that Arya could see their faces and lips as they swapped spit.

Lyonel pulled back and the maid wordlessly slid down across his body, moaning and whimpering as her nerves were struck with electrical pleasure from his skin, her cunt wettening and tits dripping with milk, before her head submerged and her lips enveloped him, drinking any water left in her mouth before leaving a vacuum, cheeks concaving, and she began dragging her lips along his length.

All Arya could see was her hair as it floated to the top of the surface barring the subtle bobbing underwater as she began to throat his cock. Lyonel leaned back and let out moans and grunts of approval, never breaking eye contact with his wife. It let her know of things to come, of how she would watch him pleasure himself with other women, and how he would place favor in those women instead of her, only using her to abuse with mental cruelty.

For so long she was forced to watch her husband getting his cock suckled by some harlot maid, and every second the pit in her stomach and the shame only intensified before her world became despair, in turn intensifying the pleasure Lyonel derived from the cheating blowjob. Once he almost reached his limit, he pulled the maid off and stood up, walking over to Arya.

Under his great stature and looming cock she cowered and shamed and worshipped all at once, and she hated herself for it. She hated that she allowed herself to be treated this way, not knowing that in time she would grow to love the humiliation and the rapings she would suffer at his hand.

The maid used both her hands to milk him and pointed his cock at Arya's beautiful face contorted gorgeously with such despair while she wished she could tear herself free of Lyonel and his unrelenting allure and her unstoppable love for him. She wanted to move away from the cock that throbbed in a threat to cover her face in a sheen of his seed, as if spitting on her face and her honor alike, but she couldn't move.

All she dared do was gasp when the maid laughed and his fat delicious cock finally spurted thick ropes of almost-scalding cum, cum so thick it nearly sealed her eyes and mouth shut, sliding down her breasts and covering them too. When finally after what must have been his fifteenth rope, she was left gasping for air, face and tits covered in a thick sheen of his glistening, pearly ball-batter. She flinched almost violently when the maid slapped her hands against the sides of her face with an evil grin and began scraping handfuls of his cum and smearing it in her hair at first, completely highlighting it white, before grabbing her shoulders and bending her over the edge of the bathtub, and smearing a word on the small of her back with strings of burning-hot cum, searing said word into her skin.

Arya did nothing to stop her, for Lyonel had revealed her for what she truly was; a woman playing at a warrior. All her bravery and combat prowess meant nothing now in the face of a woman who had accepted her place as beneath men, combined with the greatest of men humiliating her all the while. So she laid there, bent over as the maid smeared BITCH on her, Lyonel repeating the word for her and laughing.

She didn't move, even as Lyonel and the maid got out of the bath and placed his arm on her shoulder and lead her to the door to their room, "Clean yourself up, bitch."

"Take your time, Stark slut," said the maid, "I know I will with your husband."

She laughed at Arya before closing the door behind them. Arya cleaned herself with tears falling down her face as she listened to the creaking of their bed and the screams of pleasure from the maid as she was pounded by Lyonel. When she finished, they were still going at it, but the bed wasn't creaking as loudly or violently.

She opened the door to see the maid riding Lyonel, her tits squished together and stretched out by their nipples he bit down on, suckling the milk from her breasts.

He let go of her teats and the maid whined out in desperation, before realizing when Lyonel turned to Arya that she was in the same room. She smiled wickedly before making a show of riding him, slamming down with effort on his cock. "Your clothes are next to the door, Arya," she said. The abnormal, or normal in Arya's dumb woman's mind, female would bite back, beat her, or tell her to go fuck herself, but all the Stark girl could do was look over in silence to see her training leathers and undergarment. Her panties were stained with something.

"Take the panties with spit on them. Let my saliva slicken your cunt when you ride on horseback, remind you that while you're riding a saddle I'm riding your husband."

And she did, slipping the panties on with a pathetic yet delicious expression of sadness and humiliation on her face. She proceeded to put on her training leathers, all while behind her her husband was cheating on her.

When she was fully clad, the maid moaned, "Now go, Arya Stark. You're not wanted here - Oh! - but don't worry, I'll make sure he impregnates me a second time. Oh my… you didn't know? Yes, you're not going to be the first he impregnates, ever. Nor will you be the last. He's fucked bastard babes into many a wombs. He's blessed my unworthy slut's cunt once, and he told me he'll do it one more time today. I could cry with joy, but I wouldn't give you the satisfaction of the sight. Now, like I said; go. Go and train and practice, for all the good it won't do you, while I bear your husband's children."

Arya was crying without a sound, looking to Lyonel in her desperation, but he only looked at her without word, and hastened his fucking of the maid, drawing louder and louder whimpers. She left and wiped her eyes so that no one else would know. And like the spit that indeed slickened her cunt when she moved around in her skin-tight leather attire reminding her of the fact that her husband was fucking someone else, so too was she reminded of the creaking bed by the sound of her wooden practice sword hitting the training dummy.

This was how Lyonel's more discreet, genius lessons would take place. In her mind, her subconscious awakening.

Every time she heard others pant in exhaustion, she imagined Lyonel grunt as the maid moaned and panted above him, every time she heard someone fall down and yell out in pain, she imagined the maid slamming her ass down on Lyonel's cock as they screamed each others names out, and he impregnated her.

And he did impregnate the maid that day. When Arya came back to their room, she slept on the bed they were still fucking in. They waited for her, and when finally she lied down to sleep, trying to ignore the violent bounces and rocking and screams of pleasure from the maid, Lyonel howled out like an animal, filling her womb.

She cried herself to sleep while they kissed, the maid thanking him for the babe in between the smooching. Lyonel had her jerk him off to the sound of her pathetically soft, yet unimaginably arousing sobs.

This happened for a month. Every day in Winterfell, he would fuck another woman, some cocksleeve maids he brought along from King's Landing, some he made her watch as he raped for the first time. She sat down in the corner chair and watched as he would rape weeping and whimpering maids, breaking them with a bastard in their cunts, and driving them to what she thought to be insanity, but was in truth reality, that the rapings were a kindness, and they all grew to love him and scorn her.

Maids she grew up with around her age, young and naive and hopeful, some built more slim than others, and maids who were older than her, who had once been motherly and kind and would sneak her food from the kitchens, and were built with more curves than their younger counterparts, all fucked her husband in front of her while laughing at her, taking bastards in their wombs she was meant to have as trueborns, and loving it. They knew just the right buttons to press, and called her Arya Horseface, and other things she was bullied with as a child growing up.

The times that made her truly cry were when Lyonel would insult her as well, bullying her with the same names and speaking of how she would never have a child with him, and how he knew she would sneak back to their room when he wasn't there to masturbate, shoving fingers into her wet cunt while she imagined he fucked her, when in reality he hadn't fucked her since their wedding day.

Some days would end with her on the bed as Lyonel fucked a maid from back south or some maid she knew and/or grew up with. Others he would sleep with Arya in her arms, kissing her lovingly and saying even more loving and sweet things, Arya not realizing he was torturing her with another lesson, as he was aware she could taste the women he kissed and fucked, forcing her to be reminded of his infidelity even as he made out with her.

Then, after the first month, he stopped altogether. He didn't fuck her, but he didn't fuck any other girls either. At nights he would kiss her and have her jerk him off, cumming on her tits or making her drink it before sliding his hand between her amazingly thick thighs and making her cum.

Then one night, it happened.

Arya's eyes showed her confusion when she saw her mother enter, fisting her clothes together at certain areas as she walked to Arya's bed, "Mother?" Her voice showed just as much confusion, and her eyes curiously searched her mother's figure. Why was she holding her clothes like that? What's she even doing here, in her and Lyonel's bedroom? Was she blushing?

She saw her mother Catelyn's look of despair when she realized what was going to happen, "Oh, Arya… my sweet daughter."

"What's happening, mother?" She turned to her husband, "Lyonel, what is this?" A sinking feeling filled her stomach as suspicions crept into her mind. But Lyonel promised again, she thought. He said that was a free month, and even though she was a dumb cunt for it she believed it. He wouldn't lie to her, would he? She had to believe him, she thought desperately. She loved him too much not to.

She refused to believe otherwise, right up until Lyonel said to Catelyn, "You know what to do," and Arya gasped with wide eyes as her mother opened her hands to let her clothes spill to the floor and reveal herself naked, her gorgeous body bare for all to see.

"I'm so sorry, Arya..." her mother said, too ashamed to face her and instead looking to Lyonel, who was naked just as she was, to his muscles and his proud cock rising like a pillar of flesh, hoping it would make it easier to fuck her beloved daughter's love and life right in front of her.

It did.

"No," Arya whimpered pathetically.

Catelyn closed her eyes even as she displayed her breasts to her master. "I'm so sorry..." she said, pushing her breasts out for him to fondle.

"No," said Arya again as Lyonel grabbed her mother, pulling a gasp from her, and leading her by her arms to the top of their marriage bed and laid her down on it, "No, you promised-"

"I lied," Lyonel grinned towards her as her wide eyes stared in shock and disbelief.

She shook her head repeating, "No… No... " as if she would wake up and realize it was nothing more than a nightmare, a product of her insecurity. When her back hit the wall, so too did reality hit her, and she sank to the floor as she realized the man she loved more than her own life was going to fuck her mother right in front of her eyes, and she dared to do naught but watch. Lyonel leant down and captured Catelyn's shapely cockpillow lips in sensual hunger, and the sound of smacking lips and smooching and wet disgusting exchange of saliva filled the room.

"Lyonel," Arya whimpered as she sank to her knees and her eyes levelled with the sight of their lips, Lyonel's dominating and Catelyn's submissive and, despite her vocal regret and despair, unfailingly eager. "My mother..."

He parted from her wet lips and glared at her, and Arya couldn't help but flinch at the disgust he held in her eyes, disgust of such a proud warrior whimpering and kneeling and begging (and soon to be weeping). No matter how out of turn Arya was in her life, thinking she was more than a rapepet for him, it was what gave her the adorable and amusing charm he'd come to love her for, even when he knew better, even when he knew that women had no fate more righteous than as breeding toys and rape victims. Not that it was the cause of his disgust, for his disgust was an act to hurt her, and hurting her excited him and aroused him like nothing else.

"Aye?" he asked as he fondled Arya's mum, her moans filling the background as a constant reminder of the hot and lewd, harsh truth, and as to shame her daughter whilst she conversed with her cheating husband. His hands ruthlessly squeezed Catelyn's amazing tits while he stared into Arya's pleading and hurt eyes unflinchingly, "What of it? She's an amazing fucktoy, and a far better breeder. I would've taken her as a wife, but now I'm going to have to wait until your father dies. Make no mistake, however, she will be my wife. Look at your mother's tits. Look how amazing. How fat and yet firm. I swear when your father dies, I'll make sure she's missing from the funeral. Know that when you can't find Catelyn there, she's riding my cock on her marriage bed, smiling with joy and having my baby."

Arya's heart dropped to her stomach as she knelt watching the love of her life fondle her mother, and his words struck her like a hammer, "Father..." She looked at Catelyn, "Mother."

Cat's eyes opened and she remembered this wasn't another session of riding her master and cheating on her husband, an activity she's grown addicted to, but also Arya's degradation. She moaned out in a mixture of dismay and pleasure, "Oh, Arya! I'm so sorry. I wish you didn't have to see this."

Arya's voice was thick with pathetic pleading and whimpering, "Mother… I love you."

"I love you too, sweet Arya," she said, and for a moment Arya was lost in her motherly expression of regret and wanted to embrace her, to be comforted by her loving mother, and Arya leaned forward in her kneeling position, before suddenly a wanton and shameful moan ripped its way past Catelyn's lips in a cruel wake-up call, pushing Arya back to the wall.

"Oooh!" That moan was a direct oxymoron to Catelyn's regrets, it was a moan of pleasure she shamefully though unapologetically let sound, and with cunning, Lyonel made use of it to ruin Arya's resolve, to remind her no matter how much her mother was regretful over her actions and no matter how much she was apologizing, she was still going to fuck the love of her life. "Please forgive me, Arya."

"Why are you doing this, mother?"

"I can't help myself," she said, panting as Lyonel grinned and leaned down to plant kisses on her neck, collarbone, and chest, and licking across the valley of her breasts before suckling the milk from her fat tits. Arya despaired, and her hand reached out for a second to stop him before his lips latch onto Catelyn's swollen nipple, and her hand fell back to her side to hang there in helplessness. Her mother was moaning almost frantically as her milk spilled into his mouth.

Arya thought about Eddard, and something resembling a cry left her lips, "What about Father? How can you do this to him? How can you do this to me?"

Her tit flopped out of his mouth and milk arced through the air as her breast bounced against her chest. Arya flinched with a gasp and tears welled in her eyes as her mother's milk spattered across her face. "Go on," said Lyonel as he leaned in close to Catelyn's face, his hands squeezing her titflesh all the while. "Tell her what you abandoned her father, your perfect husband's unconditional love for."

Catelyn shut her eyes in silence, knowing that looking into Lyonel's eyes would ruin her resolve and force the truth to spill past her lips, but they flung open suddenly when he clamped down on her titties hard and readied his cock against her drenched folds, words crying out uncontrollably, "You! I did it for you!"

With a plunge into her warm cunt, Lyonel moaned out in satisfaction as Catelyn screamed and convulsed, held down only by her tits, stomach flinching and limbs quivering, hands scratching at the bed wildly for purchase before gripping in place. Lyonel leaned down to meet her face, her panting breath wafting against him. "Tell that to your daughter," he said, not even meeting Arya's eyes, but rather grinning cruelly down at Catelyn and gesturing his head towards her as he began to thrust into her mother.

And Catelyn did. Her head fell to the side and her blue eyes met her daughter's misty, tear-welled grey ones. She moaned as she shook along with the bed from his pounding. The regret slowly left her every time his fat cock speared into her womb, and Lyonel dragged his tongue across her face, "I did it for your husband, Arya. I'm so sorry, but - Oh, Gods! - I love him! I love him more than I ever loved your father! He's so much stronger. So much more muscular. So much more handsome. He's better in every way! By the gods, his cock… You've felt it. You should know how it feels."

She understood. Gods, she understood. But as it has been said before, she had regained her sanity, and a woman is a creature unworthy of such a gift, as they have no idea how to make use of it, a point she made convincingly clear when she spoke her idiotic question, "But… Don't you love Father?"

Catelyn stared up into Lyonel's eyes before they began to make out again, and Arya held back from sobbing as she watched his hips move and his cock plunge into her mother, Catelyn's ass jiggling and her tits bouncing on her chest in waves. Arya whimpered in despair as she wrapped her arms about his neck and pulled him down, and she almost seemed to ignore the question if not for her speech continuing, as absentmindedly as it could whilst being fucked and kissed, said kisses interrupting her talking occasionally, "Of course - *Smooch* - I do. But - *Smooch* - I love Lyonel - *Smooch* - more. He's better - *Smooch* - in every way. The way - *Smooch* - he rapes my womb - *Smooch* - only brings me joy. Knowing that - *Smooch* - my place as a rapedoll - *Smooch* - is realized. Gods, I love him - *Smooch* - more than I love your father. *Smooch* - Ned is nothing - *Smooch* - compared to him."

Lyonel laughed as he pulled away from her lips. "That's far from the whole truth, Cat."

"I… I love cheating on him. I love the thought of him working hard and reigning as a lord, earning everything he has in life, including me, and loving me and treating me like a goddess, only for me to be fucking someone else, someone better, behind his back. And I love fucking your husband Arya. There is such joy in cuckolding men and making cuckqueans out of women. Nothing is sweeter than doing so to my husband and daughter."

By the time she had finished her speech, Arya's tears spilled freely and soundlessly upon her cheeks, and no matter how mortifying and cruel her words were. Despite the lack of ill-will in her mother's voice, she would have taken the verbal abuse over the sound of their kissing as Catelyn finally lost all care for deigning her daughter the basic human right of attention, and kissed with her daughter's husband in front of her as he fucked her hard.

"Gods, you're beautiful," said Lyonel.

Catelyn blushed but never broke eye contact, instead staring lovingly into his eyes,"I love you..."

"I love you too."

Catelyn didn't give a care in the world to the sobbing in the room, instead giving out a cry of joy and moaning into Lyonel's mouth when he slammed his lips onto hers again. She made out with him like a lover would as they coupled roughly and carelessly, the sound of their flesh deliciously smacking together. He wrapped his arms behind her back and lifted her to fuck her in a kneeling position, bouncing her atop him as they kissed.

He only pulled away when a delightful thought occurred to him. He leaned into her ear and whispered, and she laughed breathlessly past the sound of her daughter's sobbing.

Arya noticed past her tears that Lyonel let Catelyn go to fall on her back, his womb-raper still inside her, and he turned her on her stomach before hugging her from behind and carrying her. She wrapped her legs around his hips and moaned as she slid down his length, filling her womb.

"What are you doing," Arya asked with wide, fearful eyes, before suddenly Lyonel and her mother were on their knees in front of her, and her mother pushed her back to sit with her back against the wall. Lyonel positioned her mother so that her huge, perfect, and firm tits were hanging in front of her eyes, and Arya realized what they were going to do. "Please!" she begged, "No!"

"OOOH!" Catelyn moaned when Lyonel's hips started and he thrust into her. She whispered huskly, "Oh, Lyonel! Don't stop! Fuck me, please!"

"Mother..." Arya whined.

Catelyn only then woke up from her fuck-drunk stupor. For so long she had been taken by her master and had her head filled with fantasies as she slowly forgot her daughter's presence. Such delicious fantasies. Fantasies of Arya training in the yard, fighting hard and winning spars, turning to find Lyonel's approving smile, only to see him sitting next to her mother with his hands on Catelyn's hips and their lips locked together. Then came images of them in the throne room, with Catelyn sitting on Lyonel's lap with his hand clamped down on her asscheek through her dress whilst Arya's forced to stand in the crowd among petty nobility, and he would fondle her while his subjects brought matters to their king. Arya would be standing shamed amidst the crowd that would whisper and snicker behind her back of how pathetic a queen she was that she would allow herself to be cowed and cuckqueaned so easily by her mother. Arya would then return to their bedchambers, her hand reaching to the door, only to freeze at the sound of Cat moaning his name and the bed creaking under the weight of their fucking.

Then she thought of her husband, and such delicious fantasies of cheating on him (there really was something amazing about cucking people). After Eddard walked into his lord's hall to find his naked and gorgeous wife riding Lyonel like a stud and was arrested by his own guards as the prince declared himself lord of Winterfell, he was in chains in his own dungeons, and she would come in wearing a cloak and holding a torch, and would reveal herself from under her hood.

She imagined Eddard's eyes lighting up with hope, that her loving wife had come to save her, and that the truth was that she was being raped (which of course she had been, but not in that moment), only for her to shuck the cloak off to reveal herself naked in the dark damp dungeon lit up only by the torch she placed on the wall, ignoring her husband's equally confused and surprised look at her suddenly naked form, and Lyonel would enter and seat himself as Cat, still ignoring her husband except for casting such delicious and cruel smiles and smirks his way implicatively, slowly and teasingly undid her hair to let the beautiful auburn cascade down her back. She would then straddle Lyonel's mighty cock in front of Eddard and ride herself exhausted, sweat running down her jiggling ass and her tits as they bounced. She would moan out Lyonel's name and treat him so lovingly as though he was her husband all along. Eddard would see her red hair disappear as she leaned down and kissed Lyonel, and their smacking lips would join the sound of her jiggling ass bouncing on his cock, glistened deliciously in the torchlight.

Cat had been so lost in her fantasies, but now she awoke as a different mother as she looked down at Arya. Arya didn't sob anymore, but wept quietly as her mother's perfect tits, so perfect they put hers to shame, bounced in front of her eyes lewdly, nipples occasionally brushing against her face and dripping more milk on her already breast-milk-spattered face.

Gods how pathetic a daughter. To believe she gave birth to this?

It wasn't shocking or surprising, no. Only disgusting. She deserved worse, of course. She was a woman, made for raping and being bred. But she owed the men of the world, Lyonel above all, to birth better children than this… this disgusting cuck of a daughter.

"Look at you," she whispered, voice flinching with every thrust. "Doing nothing about me fucking your husband. What sort of daughter did I raise? If you were going to be a pathetic slut with no self respect you might as well have acted like it and accepted your role as a Lady to be married off and violated by some lordling like your sister, not pretending to be a warrior. The only warrior you would be is one who would lose her first true fight, and have her armour torn off before being raped into her place in life. Lyonel spared you that, though. He didn't do it on front of a crowd. Thank him, Arya Stark. Thank him for that."

"Thank you..." her voice quivered.

Arya's eyes never met hers, only spilling tears quietly, though such a pathetic showing was to be expected.

This was a pretentious dumb bitch who thought herself a warrior of equal standing to a man, and who thought that training in the yard would prove such a thing, oblivious to true fighting and battle. An idiotic notion, as Catelyn understood better and better whilst Lyonel was teaching her with his rape of her womb. So of course when faced with a truly worthy opponent, in this case Lyonel daringly fucking her own mother in front of her, would she falter to her natural subservient state.

"The only fucking she deserves is a raping," said Lyonel with contempt in his voice. "Consensual sex is too good for someone so pathetic."

Catelyn's love of Lyonel won over her love for Arya, and she laughed as she remembered the words he whispered in her ears. "Suckle my breasts, Arya."

She gasped shakily as her wide and wet doe eyes looked up to Cat's, begging for a reprieve in any form she could give. But her mother's eyes only stared lustful and half-lidded, smiling down at her as she gave the command.

"It is the only love you'll be given... my daughter." The word was spoken with such disgust, Lyonel almost considered it appropriate. The truth was, it wasn't disgusted enough. "Suckle me."

The Milf moaned when Arya's quivering lips latched onto her nipples and began to drink. Her puffy nubs wrinkled deliciously as Arya's lips took slow tugs, "Oh, gods! Look at you, Arya. Always thought yourself so strong, yet here you are. I'm fucking your husband and taking him away from you, and you're suckling my tits. You're going to make the woman who's taking your love away cum while she's doing it. She really is pathetic, isn't she?" She said to Lyonel before turning to smile down cruelly at her daughter. "Look at you drink… You should know, every day since your marriage, when he wasn't in your room and you touched yourself to the thought of him, he was fucking me. Today he's going to fuck a babe into me."

"I'm going to cum, Cat," said Lyonel, panting and grunting like a beast. Hearing him use her mother's first name so familiarly made Arya sob, vibrating the nipple in her mouth and making Cat moan.

"Me too. Give me your babe as I cum, my love." She looked down at Arya, her cruel smirk shaping in those warm and full lips, "Bite my nipple, Arya. Bite as hard as you can you pathetic cuckquean. Pinch my other nipple with your nails. I'm going to cum, imagining I'm breastfeeding my future daughter, a daughter of your husband's seed, more worthy than you ever will be."

Arya did, her sobbing vibrating in her throat before passing along to Cat's fat breast, and bit down on the fat nipple. It began to spill profusely, and she pinched down on the other teat's nipple with her sharp nails, squirting more milk on her face and in her eyes, causing her to flinch.

"You also need to know another thing, daughter of mine. Everytime I fucked Lyonel, he finished by cumming on Ned's gifts to me. The rings and necklaces he gave me, the love letters he sent me when our marriage was first starting. He drenched them all in cum. But I have nothing with me today, so you'll have to do as another gift to cover in cum and throw away. Now, make me cum, Arya! Make mummy cum as I take your husband's baby in my womb! Make mummy cum, you pathetic cuck! OH GODS ABOVE!"

Cat howled in pleasure, her mature voice calling out loudly, and Lyonel joined her with his own roar, his heavy grapefruit-sized balls contracting and jerking as his fat cock spewed bountiful amounts of cum into her womb. Arya's sobbing worsened all while she felt her mother's milk fill her mouth and cover her face, feeling also the teat she was biting down on tremble violently as Cat orgasmed. She heard the sloshing sounds of cum shooting out of Lyonel's cockhole into her mother's womb, before hearing it settle and begin to boil and churn.

After the tenth rope, Cat chuckled, "That should be more than enough to give me a baby." Lyonel pulled out and stood up, laying his heavy balls on her shoulder. Catelyn grabbed his length and aimed down at Arya's face as she looked up at them, crying and still sucking her mother's tits, before pulling her daughter's hair and forcing her mouth away from her sore nipples, pulling her face up to his cock before stroking languidly along his girthy length, pulling out seven more ropes and covering Arya's face in his seed.

Just as Cat had all jewelry and letters from Ned as gifts covered in cum and thrown away, the Tully slut threw her daughter away on the ground. "You can sleep on the floor tonight, sweet Arya. Facing the bed."

Lyonel laughed and decided out loud he liked Catelyn far better than Arya as wife, before walking over to his marriage bed along with her and laying her down on it again.

Arya tried to close her eyes and block out the sound, and as if the latter task wasn't impossible on its own, her mother called out, "Eyes open and looking forward."

She did as commanded, and even when she attempted pathetically to block everything out, the moans and grunting never left her ears, and as she lay there right next to the rocking bed, she saw constantly in the corner of her eyes Catelyn's thick legs, swinging back and forth in the air as Lyonel pounded in between them.