Brothel empire, POV Chataya (R18) warning.

Chataya watched the procession of knights, lords, and lordlings as they came through the door as she had done many times before. It was again the middle of the month, and yet again, the king Robert Baratheon was treating many of those in his court to a trip to "Madam Belle's". In the purple lighting of the lobby, she could see already that this group was even larger than the king's previous.

Sitting on her stool, she unconsciously traced the outline of the quite-transparent fabric draping over her ebony skin. She'd found that the stool was a great vantage point with which to scan the men as they entered. With her complexion giving away her origins from the Summerlands or Summer Islands.

In Kingslanding, she often attracted clientele with a taste for the "exotic"; she'd learned early how to pick out those sorts of men. Well into her 20's, she'd spent years perfecting her methods in the free City of Lys.

In the Summerlands, her work was considered honorable, and girls like her were treated with reverence. As girls became women - and if they especially enjoyed their profession - they could obtain positions of true influence.

Here, in these lands, though....she had to be careful. Luckily, this crowd had no exotic inclinations - and for that, she was rather grateful. She had heard horror stories from the other girls about some of the king's more fearsome knights. Being associated so closely with the king brought impunity in certain matters that there should be no impunity for...

Not an issue for her, thankfully. With the knights safely partnered with other girls, Chataya could more easily find a partner whom she wanted - one who would make for an enjoyable time.

Chataya watched the procession finish filtering in. Like clockwork, no sooner had the procession finished, The Baratheon king addressed his court in his signature booming voice, bought a round of mead for his entire court, gathered many of the girls nearest him, and proceeded off to the aptly-named "King's Room." Only after the king whisked away with many girls in tow did the true debauchery start.

Scanning the room, she saw the ironically-named Lord big John Umber sitting on a nearby couch dawdling a topless Olivia. His girth indicated that he had likely never refrained from a meal in his life, but he paid handsomely - and he was kind. Nearby, Madelyn was atop a stage seductively peeling off articles of clothing while a few rugged-looking men cheered her on. Madelyn seemed to have a gift for seductive dancing that Chataya did not - and it showed. She'd already collected an admirable pile of coins beside her.

Scanning the room further, she found the bar. A lone man was sitting at it drinking from his mead. Paying no attention to the debauchery around him, And advances of many young girls. He was slumped over his drink. Even from here, Chataya could tell that the man was deep in his forlorn thoughts. Intrigued, she decided to hop off her stool and introduce herself.

As she approached, she could clearly see that the exotic silver blue tunic and silverly white Eagle on the man gave him away as none other than Lord Alan Winters - "The eagle knight" ". Rumors had it that his nickname had been ironically given to him when he won a tourney at Highgarden. He had apparently become such a swordsman that the entire realm praised his skills. But the biggest thing is he proved to have a gift for battle. Indeed, he'd survived many battles that more-skilled swordsmen had not. Those who voiced his nickname now did so in a much different tone.

As she approached him, she hopped on to the stool adjacent to Newly made Lord Alan Winters and smiled. "Hello, handsome! I'm Chataya." He *was* handsome, in truth. Very handsome. She studied his features as he turned to face her. Likely around 24, he's Red ish long hair. He is the sort of man on whom a full head of hair seemed suited him the best - his Blood Red eyes made him look more fierce. And with, his prominent cheekbones popped out more; his stubbled square jaw was more apparent. But his eyes...his Red eyes twinkled with a deep intelligence, a deeper kindness...and an even deeper sadness.

Reaching out and grabbing her hand in the customary way, he introduced himself simply: "I'm Alan."

"Lovely to meet you Alan - 'The Sept butcher' Alan." Her tone was both playful and flirty.

"Heh," came his wry chuckle in response as he let her hand slip from his. "No one's called me that to my face. You know, Chataya, you're...stunningly beautiful. Too beautiful for this place." As he said "this" he motioned around the lobby with no small amount of disdain.

"You don't like this place?" she asked, playfully mimicking his own gestures as she said "this."

"Don't get me wrong - I appreciate a woman's beauty as much if not more than the next man. I've known women even when...." Pausing mid-sentence as if recovering from some shocking revelation, he continued "...even when I was with other women's , trust me I have a lot of them. But these places...they're full of women with no other options."

"In your country, these places are not considered good?"

Lord Winters took a swig of his mead before replying. "Heh, you're a very smart girl. I see it in your eyes. You know how this country perceives these sorts of places."

"In my country, these places are considered holy, and the girls who work in them are treated with reverence. The girls who are very popular with the clients - and who grow into popular woman - earn titles and royalty. It is all about perspective, I think."

"Awww, yes. A custom many of this countrymen would find strange, I think. And yet they patronize these places all the same. I'm telling you this because I'm a foreigner myself."

Shifting the tone of his voice, he continued "And your accent is quite subtle - you've been away from the Summer Islands for some time. You're something of a fellow countryman, yourself."

The more The Deadsword conversed with her, the more his sadness seemed to melt away to be replaced by a confident curiosity. Chataya began to feel a flutter in her - she was intensely attracted to this man.

She leaned in closer to him - close enough to smell the subtle aroma of horse and sweat emanating from his riding clothes. "Why don't you come to my chambers with me - I want to talk more in private..."

" Are you sure? It could be very painful for you."

Chataya leaned in and placed both of her hands over his free hand. "A man such as yourself? giving me pain? No my lord...I would be honored. You're a beautiful man. In the Sunlands, even the priestesses would fight over you."

Again, The Eagle Knight seemed amused by the thought. And with a kind smile, he seemed to give in. Somewhat.

"Chataya. You're a bright girl...I just need someone like you to entrust something. let's see if you're up for the job."

Holding his hand and staring into his eyes as he said it, she could see an endearing strength in the warrior. She said nothing, but squeezed his hand in support. It seemed to give him something positive for his thoughts, and his tone turned more playful.

"But I also need a bath, too. It seems that you're also quite brave - I know that I must smell of the poor beasts who brought me here."

"My lord, most of the men that come in here smell of worse things, I assure you."

Lord Winter's glance seemed to instinctively shoot over to where Lord Big John Umber had his hand up Olivia's dress. With a knowing, wry smile, he signaled to Lord Umber and asked "Like him?" with only his eyes. A sense of humor too...Lord Winter is a fearsomely attractive man.

Wordlessly, she grabbed his hand in hers and signaled for him to follow. The eagle knight rose from his stool without resistance, and so Chataya took it as a sign of approval. With Lord Winters in tow, she flitted through a dreamlike sequence of curtains, hallways, and furniture where more often than not lovemaking could be heard - if not seen.

Arriving at the door to her chambers, she twisted the doorknob and pushed it open to reveal it's familiar sights. Silk drapes clung to and fro while a colored window let in rays of purple light. In the Sunlands, only priestesses themselves had more luxurious chambers.

Entering the room and closing the door behind him, Lord Winters was clearly impressed as he scanned around the room. "A lovely room, Chataya. Unlike me, it smells of lilac."

She gave a throaty, hearty laugh in response before teasing him. "Well that is why I must make sure you have a bath! I cannot let you ruin my chambers!"

Walking over to the bathtub adjacent to her window, she gave the knob of the faucet a few quick turns. Before long, a jet of steaming water rushed out and into the tub.

Lord Winter's eyes immediately fixated on the steam rising from the tub. "Geothermal water - in this place? Quite luxurious, I must say." The Eagle Knight's tone was part derision, part genuine astonishment.

"Yes, my lord. Warm water to wash away all of our worries. Now let's get you in the bath..." She made sure that the tone in her voice was sultry if not too seductive. The Eagle Knight had made it rather clear thus far about his intentions.

Before walking over to the tub, The knight removed his muddied cool looking riding boots and placed them on a rack next to the door. As he did, she admired his manliness. He had a combination of ruggedness, kindness, and intellect that she she found very sexy.

Bootless, Lord Alan padded over to the bathtub. When Alan came within arm's reach, Chataya wordlessly began to unlace the strings of his plain, green, tunic. Unfastening each string slowly - seductively - she noted that his eyes were scanning her over. For the first time, he seemed to notice the sheer blue fabric draping over her ebony skin. And when his eyes fixated on her even-darker nipples...she felt an undeniable flutter.

"Forgive me Chataya...but you are a stunningly beautiful woman." As he said it, his eyes seemed transfixed on her bare collarbone. For a moment, she imagined how it would feel if he gently pecked her collarbone with his lips.

"Nothing to forgive my lord...you are quite kind." In truth, he seemed genuinely kind. While she enjoyed her time with many of the men who came through here, few made her feel so good as this man whom she was undressing.

Grabbing the bottom of his tunic, she gave a slight tug up to indicate that the tunic was ready to be removed. In unspoken coordination, Lord Alan lifted his arms, and Chataya slipped the tunic off.

Stepping back to look at her prize, ( noted immediately that even in middle age), the man was in phenomenal shape. Unlike many of the men who frequented this place, The s body looked as strong as any youth's - it was clearly a body forged by a lifetime of martial training. But then Chataya noticed the plentiful scars crisscrossing his strong frame, and she could see what a lifetime of training had cost him. A moment later, Chataya realized that her hand had unwittingly begun to trace over Lord Alan's scarred, muscular frame.

"Yes. Many scars."

"They're so sexy...." In truth, Chataya hadn't seen half this many scars on even the most fearsomely-reputed knights that frequented this place. Chataya found the scars strangely arousing.

"I have...seen many good men fall. I've cut many down myself - that's where most of my scars come from. I wish the world was different, but it is the world that we have." Again, an undeniable sadness crept into his voice.

Tracing evermore of his scars, Chataya's hand came to a scar that must've come from a devastating wound. At the bottom of the ribs on his right side, a large, shiny, pink region of flesh hinted at a grievous injury. Again, her fingers traced it over. This time, though, Chataya felt more sympathy than arousal.

"Awww yes, you found *it*." The knight's tone indicated that among innumerable scars, this one stood out foremost in his mind.

Continuing to trace her hands over his many scars, she asked "Why don't you hop in the tub and tell me about it while I scrub you clean?"

Before he could respond, she began to deftly unlace his pants. He studied her until his laces were undone and his pants had fallen to his ankles. With his legs free, he said nothing. Silently, he kicked his ankles out of his pants resting on the floor and stood in all of his naked glory adjacent the tub. With his legs freed from his pants, she stepped back to again admire her prize. Chataya was disappointed to find that he was not erect - but she *was* pleasantly surprised by the size of his manhood. Had the man frequented the brothel, he would have earned a few more nicknames besides The eagle knight, one example she could find is the title horse dick/cock. She found herself anticipating how his girth would fill her; how her eyes would roll back at the feel of it stretching her out. Hopefully she could seduce him soon, but if not...she did enjoy his company.

Scanning him over as he stood naked, she even found that Lord Alan was just the right level of hairy. His muscular chest was covered in tasteful levels of hair; his pubic hair was trimmed - an unusual habit among clientele. Where Chataya had once felt a flutter, she now felt a tingle between her legs.

Wordlessly, The knight lifted one leg and then another into the bathtub before easing into it with a prolonged sigh. Chataya again found herself disappointed that his considerable manhood wasn't eager for her; she'd noted that it carelessly swung back and forth as he stepped into the tub.

"It's very hot...almost too hot. But thank you for this, my Chataya." Having eased all the way into the tub, he let his arms hang over the edge of the tub. Even in the tub, she found that he exuded an effortless, sad, dignity.

"My pleasure my lord...now tell me more about 'the wound'."

As Lord Alan started into his story, Chataya grabbed a nearby sponge and began to scrub his arms slumped over the sides of the tub.

"Yes...well. It's quite a famous tale. I'm sure nobody heard it. Except those women that I bedded. Much of what you heard is likely exaggerations, though." Chataya nodded, acknowledging that she was familiar with the story. Everyone had heard about Ser Alan winter's exploits in the Rebellion, after all.

"You see...they don't call her the 'War' for a good reason. My foster mother Apollyon was a deadly warrior, one and only of her kind. She adopted me when I was homeless and alone. She trained amongst many and only few of us that survived. We took place in her army. She not a kind or a caring person. but she thought us a very important lesson. That only the strong have rights to control their destiny. "

"Uh huh..." She was listening intently as she scrubbed him, but she was also taking admiring glances at his muscular body just beneath the surface of the shimmering water. He didn't seem to notice - his stare indicated that he was reliving his story.

Listening to him as she did, Chataya dunked the sponge in her hand under the water with an audible splash and squeezed. With it full of water, she hovered it over him and gave it a gentle, constant squeeze and watched the resulting stream of water part over his muscular, scarred chest.

"Almost as soon as we entered the forest, we were set upon. The mountain clan's who'd turned to banditry to survive. One was so skilled with the bow that he had somehow managed to fire off three arrows before any of us knew we were under attack. Each one went through an eye slit of a fellow knight. It could have been me, but luck was on my side. When I'd realized what happened to my colleagues, I kicked at my horse. With a shout I lowered my visor, grabbed the sword in my back with one hand, unsheathed my sword with the other.... and charged into glorious battle certain I would take an arrow through an eye. God help me, but the adrenaline of it all was like nothing I'd ever felt..." It was the story when helped house Wynwood conquering the mountain clan.

she began to use the sponge in her hand to scrub Lord Alan's shoulders. His perpetually-tense shoulders seemingly relaxed as she in turn drenched them in sponge water and scrubbed them gently.

As he got deeper into the story, The knights brow furrowed and the look in his eyes transformed into something deadly. It was a look that both scared her and turned her on like nothing she knew possible.

" At the Trident Focusing only on the Dornish master archer in front of me, I could see only death in the peripheries of my eye slits. I could see that my colleagues continued to fall to the ground with arrows protruding from them. I thought nothing of it - I was focused only on that bastard with the deadly aim. I continued forward, intent only on the prize. I killed every man who got in my way - or so I thought. I did not see it coming. One of the bastards I had just cut down came running back at me. I didn't see him until the spear had already split my chain mail and lodged between my ribs. Truthfully, I barely felt it I was so full of adrenaline. Instinctively, I turned my hips and did a backslash with such fury that the man's head seemingly exploded. I hadn't even realized that he was there until I saw my blade kill him."

By now, The eagle knight's cheeks were blushed; his eyes were full of vivid memories. With his shoulders and arms clean, she began to drizzle sponge water over his head.

"I dropped my to ground - I had to. I couldn't pull the spear protruding from me with my sword-hand. No sooner had I placed my hand on the wooden shaft of the spear than I felt something in my shoulder. And then something else in pelvis. I paid the strange feelings no mind. Instead, I pulled the spear from me. But then another sensation in my arm. With the spear removed, I looked to see three arrows protruding from my body. I knew that the bastard thought he was the predator - he was waiting for me to lift my head so he could land an arrow through my eye slit. I gave him no such opportunity. From the bloody forest river, I grabbed another fallen knight's shield and raised it shoulder-level. *Then* I looked up. As soon as I did, an arrow bounced off of the top of my shield just near my eyes. I had never felt such anger before; such a murderous rage."

Lord Alan's brow furrowed evermore throughout his story. His look indicated he was somewhere else, living a different life. Now, more than ever, Chataya felt intensely attracted to him. She wanted nothing more than to kiss him; to feel his passionate embrace in response. For a moment, she considered reaching her hand into the tub and grabbing his manhood in her hand.

"As I walked purposefully towards the bastard firing arrows, another fool charged me. Yet another fool who would feed the bloody river floor with his blood. When I had cut that man down - the last - the archer knew his fate. I could see it in his eyes. To his credit, the bastard fought to the end. Like a goddamn hero. As I approached, he unfastened the sling across his back, grabbed his sword in both hands, and charged me. I parried his unskilled blow and ended him with a riposte that Jason Mallister tells me was the most graceful he'd ever seen. The moment was bittersweet like nothing I can explain. With him vanquished, all I could see were the bodies of half-starved peasants littering the River floor beside our own peasants."

With a frenzied, feverish look in his eyes, his burning glance turned to meet hers. "God help me. It was both the thing I'm most proud of and the thing I'm most ashamed of. It was both my finest hour, and my darkest."

Chataya said nothing. There was nothing to say. She felt both a deep sympathy for this good man, and a primal attraction.

"Is that the same story you've heard, my lady?"

The story was indeed fascinating, And the one that recently happened at the great Sept of Baelor was horrifying, but just now, she was in the mood for lovemaking. She decided to shift the mood to something more playful.

"Well my lord, I'd heard that you cut down an army by yourself!" As she finished her sentence, she playfully splashed bathwater at his face.

"Hah! Now *that's* a story you'll have to tell me someday!" His smile had again grown wry as he turned his beautiful eyes towards her. His glance locked with hers for what seemed an eternity.

Losing herself in his eyes, she could see them shimmering with heated emotions. And then - all at once - his body shot forwards so fast that she thought he was going to kill her...only to feel his strong hands grab her head and his lips move urgently to hers. Her mouth opened instinctively, and she could feel his tongue enter. So passionate was the kiss that she barely noticed the water from his hands dripping down to her shoulders and dampening her clothes.

Mouths locked in a heated, passionate, embracing kiss, he began to rise from the tub. Somehow, she managed to match his motion by rising from her own kneeling position - even while kissing this intensely sexy man.

Both now standing fully erect, she broke off her kiss and again looked at Lord Alan's body. It was now wetly gleaming in the purple light of her chambers. She immediately noticed that Lord Winter's cock had grown as erect as his posture. With her right hand, she grabbed it's thick, wet, girth and began to tug at it seductively. His girth filled her hand nicely, and not all of the fiery warmth in her hand was from the water.

The Dreadsword shifted his weight and took a step to remove one leg from the tub followed by the other. Water streamed down his naked, muscular, frame, but he didn't seem to notice. Now, for the first time, he was looking at her much as the other men did - with a hungry look in his eyes. In anticipation of his primal lust, she felt a familiar tingle between her legs as he again stepped forward.

Placing his strong hands around her waist, he effortlessly hoisted her up and near his hips. In response, she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his naked waist. The warm, soft skin of his waist greeted her legs as she pulled him tight, as did the oft-scarred skin of his shoulders greet her arms. Using her legs she pulled her body weight tightly against Lord Belwyr. Doing so, she could feel the fabric of her clothes clinging to his wet body...but what she really noticed was the head of his throbbing cock resting against the wetness forming between her legs.

With him supporting her weight, their mouths again met in a passionate embrace. She could feel his tongue exploring her own mouth and her's his. Absorbed as she was in the passion of the moment, she still became aware that Lord Winter's was carrying her to her bed. Losing herself in this man's passionate strength was already sending her to the edge.

Normally, Chataya would start talking dirty...but just now, she wanted to embrace the smoldering passion of the moment. Even so, she couldn't help but release moans of pleasure as every one of Lord Alan's steps caused his cock to shift and rub her clitoris.

Arriving at the bed, he gently laid her down and then rested his own body weight on her. She could feel every muscle of his strong, manly body as he did. In that moment, it must have dawned on him that she was still wearing the blue, now-sodden fabric clothes from before because he sat up, shifted his weight back, reached his hands to her dress, and began tearing at it. It was the most erotic, manly thing she'd ever experienced, and she admired his twitching muscles in the dim light each time his hands ripped at the fabric.

Apparently satisfied that the dress was no more, Lord Belwyr looked down at her now-naked body splayed out on the bed under him. His hungry eyes scanned her entire body over, but focused especially on the ebony flesh of her nipples...and her clean-shaven pussy now very-wet from anticipation. As he admired her, she too admired him. His muscular frame, his square jaw...his bloody Red eyes twinkling simultaneously with laughter, lust, sadness, and kindness.

When he again rested his body against hers, she thought she was going to feel the telltale shudders of an orgasm from anticipation alone. With his warm, strong, soft, scarred body on top of her now-naked body, she could feel his chest hair scratching at her own chest. It felt good, but not half so good as his cock did as she grabbed it in hand and placed its head against her sopping wetness.

With the tip of his impressive girth pressing into her, he began to kiss her more gently. She spread her legs wide to give him room, and he responded with a visible focus on gently pressing his raging cock into her. With his cock pushed against her wetness, he began to gently pump his hips. Each time he pumped his hips, she could feel the tip of his cock slide into her just a bit more. With each new pump, his cock stretched her out more... Until finally the wet walls of her pussy gave way entirely and she felt his cock slide in far enough for their pelvic bones to meet.

"Unnn....my *lord*...you're so big...yessssss..."

With the wet walls of her pussy clenching down on his cock, she could feel it slide in and out with each urgent movement of his hips. His girth filled her; stretched her out. She had been craving this moment.

With Lord Winter's cock now plunged deep into her, he rested his head face-down next to hers. Comfortably in position, he began to curl his back with each passionate, strong pump of his hips. Each pump was more passionate than the last; she could feel his physical need for her in each.

"Ooh goddess....yes....." Chataya whispered in his ear. Wrapping her legs tightly around him, she matched his rhythm by pulling him into her each time he pumped his hips into her. Caught up in primal passion, she took her hands and placed them on his muscular ass and similarly matched his rhythm. Each pump, she didn't think that his impressive girth could penetrate her more deeply...and yet each pump she could feel his cock sliding ever deeper into her. It was an incredible sensation.

Chataya could feel that her long-awaited orgasm was almost here - she just needed a nudge. So she took her right hand away from Lord Alan's satisfyingly-full ass and instead placed it between their bodies. Placing her middle two fingers over her engorged clitoris, she began to make circular motions with her hand.

To her surprise, Lord Alan seemed to like her hand under his pelvis: "Don't stop...Cum for me...." he muttered in her ear. Between his pelvis pressing into her hand, his impressive cock pumping in and out of her, his pleasured approval, and her own handwork, she quickly came to a shuddering orgasm.

The grip of her legs loosened from Alan's waist, her head rolled back, her body begin to shake, and the walls of her pussy began to convulse as they gripped Lord Winter's raging cock. Afterwards, with her orgasm subsided, she matched Lord Winter's rhythm by pumping her hips hungrily into him with each pump. With her clitoris and pussy keenly sensitive after her orgasm, she could feel every savory sensation.

Perhaps aroused at her own orgasm, Lord Winter's suddenly pulled his weight back, slid his cock from her, and hovered over her body. Furrowing his brow, he placed a hand around his cock and began to furiously shift it back and forth. His own pleasure came upon him soon as his seed began to spurt on to the skin just beneath her belly.

"My king....yessss...." she encouraged him. She found it very exciting to watch a man enthralled in his pleasure and just now his eyes were squeezed shut he was so enthralled.

When the last of his seed had spurted onto her belly, he collapsed exhausted onto the bed next to her. Lord Winter's seemed a man of rather conventional sexuality, but she wanted to show him more. Dabbing some of his seed with her finger, she made eye contact with him as she sucked his seed from her finger. "Mmmm..."

"I'm...I'm sorry. did you just call me king?." Any pleasure had been wiped from his face. It had been replaced with torment. If he'd noticed her sucking his seed from her finger, he'd given no indication.

"My lord...*nothing* I just...I apologize for my mistake... I just wanted it to give you a very fun time..." Finishing her sentence, she again dabbed her finger into the pool of his seed on her and again sucked it - just to make sure he noticed. He must've noticed, because his tormented face gave way to a studious one.

"Thats....nothing I've ever seen before..."

Grabbing a cloth adjacent her bed to wipe away his seed from her, she looked at him with the sweetest possible look she could. "My lord...there's no need to go through life in torment. There are pleasures to be had...enjoy them."

She shifted to her side and draped her dark-skinned leg over his waist. As she did, she could feel that he had become slightly sweaty in his passions. What she noticed more, though, was that the sight of their contrasting skin color was strangely appealing.

"Hmm. Yes my Chataya. But those pleasures feel so... wrong. but even if it's wrong it's let me forget my crimes for a moment."

Assuring his by gently tracing a free hand over an impressively-muscled chest, she replied "There is nothing to be ashamed of."

He turned and looked at her with a serious look. " All right then I've made my decision, Chataya will run my brothel empire, as it's Queen?"

Chataya let a throaty chuckle erupt. "Of course! Lord Alan....All I *want* is that you to visit again! All the time! I will show you pleasures you did not know existed...though I suspect I'd greatly enjoy your company even without pleasures of the flesh. I'll gladly take whatever duty you want to entrust to me."

He placed a strong hand over her her shoulder farther from him and seemed to stare at nothing. "Chataya...I..."

"Sssshhh. You don't need to say anything. It's okay." With her free hand, she reached down and started to caress his cock. It was still firm - and still wet from her arousal.

"Just...fuck me for the rest of the night."

"Yes, ofcourse." And he did. They did until She got exhausted and sleep came to them both.