[75] A Perfect Lannister Hell
Chapter 75: A Perfect Lannister Hell
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Joffrey’s eyes fluttered open, his mind foggy and his head pounding. He saw familiar crimson drapes and a ceiling he was used to, making him frown. “Huh…”
For one blessed moment, his frown melted and he breathed the stale air of his childhood bedchamber. Ah, yes. Of course. All of that… it was just a bad dream. He believed for a moment. How else could dragons be a thing? How else could he have lost?
But when he tried to move, realization hit him.
He… he couldn’t move.
Dust motes swirled in shafts of afternoon light cutting through broken shutters. The familiar scent of the room and the faint echoes of the previous day’s events brought him crashing back to reality. His breath hitched as he realized it hadn’t been a dream at all.
Before he could process the full weight of his situation, a low, guttural moan filled the air, followed by the rhythmic creak of the bed frame.
The moan came low and throaty – a voice that was familiar, but a sound that was not. His head snapped sideways so fast his neck popped.
His… his mother, Cersei's bare back was arching like a bowstring, sweaty golden hair plastered to flushed skin as Viserys Targaryen drove into her with piston-like thrusts that made the rotting bedframe screech. She was dirty, it was apparent that she wasn’t allowed a shower after that naked stroll, and she was being railed in that state.
Viserys, that bastard, was enjoying his mother while she still bore the shameful marks from the naked stroll! Where hundred thousand men had seen her naked, imagining obscene dreams with her body, it was this bastard who was getting to live them all.
Her manicured nails clawed at moldering bedsheets as she wailed, not in pain but ragged euphoria. Joffrey's chair creaked as he strained against silk restraints binding his wrists behind the chair back. What… what the fuck…
His eyes went wide in horror as he took in the scene before him. She was on all fours on the bed, her naked body trembling with each violent thrust from behind. Viserys’ strong, powerful frame dominated the space, his movements relentless and brutal.
Cersei’s face was twisted in a mixture of pain and pleasure, her eyes rolled back as she moaned loudly. The sound sent a wave of nausea through Joffrey, but what caught his attention next made his blood run cold. Somehow he hadn’t noticed so far that he was tied to a chair, his wrists and ankles bound with thick rope, leaving him utterly helpless.
"STOP! STOP YOU ANIMAL! I'LL HAVE YOU-"
Viserys' laughter boomed through the chamber, his violet eyes glinting as he maintained rhythm. "Hear that, Lannister? Your cub is awake, and he thinks he commands dragons." A meaty slap echoed as his mother’s ass jiggled, and Viserys gripped her hips tighter. "I did this with Theon Greyjoy too, and he was wise to stay quiet. Your son truly is too dumb to read a room, how could he handle a continent?”
“I’LL HANG YOU, LIZARD! FREE ME!”
Joffrey shouted, but the man didn’t pay attention. Viserys grabbed his dear mother’s hair tight from behind, leaning forward to whisper, “Help him understand the situation. Or else I might end him right here. Tell him whose cock you crave, Cersei."
His mother’s tear-streaked face twisted toward Joffrey, her mascara-blackened eyes glassy. "I-I... ah!... I can't..."
"Can't?" Viserys growled, slowing to cruel, shallow thrusts that made her breath hitch. "Shall we ask the whoreson what he thinks?"
Before Joffrey could respond, a soft, mocking laugh echoed from behind him. He strained against his restraints, trying to see who was there.
A figure stepped into his line of sight, and his heart sank. Ros, the pretty whore from the brothel, stood there, wearing translucent silk that did nothing to conceal the whip coiled at her hip. It was the same whore who he’d ordered to beat the other whore that day. Her eyes gleamed with a mixture of amusement and malice as she stared at him.
“Well, well, well,” Ros purred, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Look at you, Joffrey. So loud, so prideful... and yet, here you are, tied up like a little bird in a cage.”
Joffrey’s face reddened with rage and humiliation. “You dirty slut! What are you doing here? Let me go!” he spat, struggling against the ropes.
The former brothel girl trailed vermilion-painted nails along his twitching thigh. She chuckled and looked at Viserys, "Look at him, Your Grace. The pretender king's tiny needle sword stands at attention."
Joffrey's stomach dropped as he felt the traitorous hardness straining against his breeches. "No! You scheming cun-"
Her hand slammed against his face, stopping him from talking. “Don’t yell. His Grace will feel bothered,” she said in a tone cold enough to make him shiver. And no, I’m not going to let you go, Joffrey. I am going to have a little fun with you as you watch your mother’s pussy and image get destroyed." She raised her hand, and Joffrey’s breath caught as he saw the whip coiled in her fist.
The whip cracked.
Joffrey's scream merged with his mother’s shriek as the lash bit into his groin. Ros leaned close, her breath hot against his ear. "Hush now, false little king. Or maybe you want to get your turn with that Lannister Whore once the real ruler's finished?"
Cersei’s head snapped toward him, her eyes wide with horror, but Viserys grabbed her by the hair, forcing her back into the bed.
“It bothers me that you’re paying attention to him, whore,” Viserys laughed, his thrusts becoming even more savage. “He needs to watch. He needs to see what happens when you cross me. The feeling is addictive, trust me. I enjoyed it when Theon watched me take his sister, but damn this is much better. Are you tightening up, Cersei?”
Cersei’s moans turned into sobs as she pleaded, “No, no, I am not! Stop, stop, just stop, you bastard!” Viserys frowned and nodded at Ros, who grinned and attacked Joffrey harsher. Cersei’s eyes bulged. “No, No! I’m sorry! Your Grace, yes, Your Grace, my Viserys, please stop! You’re hurting him!”
But Viserys just laughed.
Joffrey watched as his mother was flipped onto her back with bestial strength, pinning her wrists above her head as Viserys sheathed himself to the hilt. Joffrey’s body burnt as the dragon’s movements became more relentless. “You should have thought of that before you decided to play queen, Cersei, when your son thought he had power. Now, you’re nothing but a slut, and your son is just a pathetic little voyeur. Look at him, lioness. Watch as your darling boy learns what a true king's seed feels like."
"Please..." Cersei's plea dissolved into wanton moans as Viserys ground deeper, the lewd squelch of their sex drowning her whimpers. "J-Joff, don't look...!"
But Joffrey couldn't look away. His mother's thighs trembled around the invader's waist, her head thrashing against mildewed pillows as Viserys growled obscenities. All the while, Ros' wandering whip traced the damp spot spreading across Joffrey's lap, her laughter light and musical.
"Beg," Viserys snarled, slowing to excruciating near-stillness. "Beg for this Targaryen cock, or I'll let your son taste you next. Won’t that be great? Look at his little cock twitch, he’s definitely interested."
Joffrey’s tears streamed down his face as he watched, helpless and humiliated. His mind reeled with a mix of rage, fear, and disgust, but there was nothing he could do. He was trapped, forced to endure the horror unfolding before him.
As Viserys continued to dominate his mother’s seductive, voluptuous body, her cries of pain turned into something else—something raw and primal. She began to cum, her body shaking uncontrollably as Viserys drove into her one last time before pulling out. He flipped her onto her back, mounting her in a brutal, animalistic position.
Cersei's wail shattered into hyperventilating gasps. "P-please! Please don't stop, Your Grace… I need it… ahng, yes~! That’s it. I NEED YOUR COCK!"
Joffrey didn’t know if his mother was acting to save him from whips or if she truly…
He sobbed dryly as Viserys roared triumphantly. The Dragon King's hips blurred, and the bed's protests drowned beneath Cersei's sobbing pleas for more. Ros pressed against Joffrey's back, her nimble fingers touching his neck as Viserys' taunts washed over them.
"Your false father died gurgling your mother's name," Viserys panted, sweat dripping onto Cersei's heaving chest. "I'll have her screaming mine until the Seven Hells freeze."
The first hot spurts hit Cersei's stomach as she clenched around him, back arching in ecstasy. Joffrey's choked sob caught in his throat as Ros' hand tightened around his shivering throat.
"Shhh," the whore said, her soft grip moving with practiced cruelty. "All men are equal at the moment of ruin." She smiled, “All but my master.”
“Ros,” Viserys' call sliced through the humid air like Valyrian steel. Ros froze with her hand still on Joffrey's throat, the boy's labored breathing loud in the sudden stillness. “Come here. I have something even more fun prepared.”
She turned toward the throne with a serpent's smile, golden light from the high windows glinting off the dark glossy whip still pressed against Joffrey's thigh.
"As my king commands."
Her silk robe slid across the stone as she crossed to the bed. Joffrey watched the curve of her hips, that fine ass that he could have had if he’d wanted that day. But like the realm, that ass also drifted away from him, falling into Visery’s grip as he spanked it. It jiggled.
Cersei lay trembling beneath them, tear tracks cutting through the grime on her cheeks. The dry blood on her forehead from getting stoned before mixed with cum.
Viserys gripped a fistful of golden hair, forcing the former queen's face upward as Ros climbed onto the mattress. The scent of sex and sweat was heavy as Ros froze, and then a grin split her face when she realized what the dragon wanted. She straddled Cersei's face without ceremony, her knees pinning the lioness's arms to the mildewed sheets.
"Breathe through your nose, little whore queen," Ros said, grinding downward. Joffey watched his mother gagging on a whore's thighs, his shaft getting hard again. "Wouldn't want you missing the show."
Viserys' laugh rumbled deep in his chest as he ruffled Ros’ hair. “I really do like you,” he said, “so I’ll give you a reward,” he said, and his tongue claimed Ros' mouth. His hands tore at her flimsy garments – silk shredded like cobwebs beneath his fingers, revealing pale flesh mottled with old bruises and fresh bite marks. Ros arched into the violence, nails scoring red trails down the king's scarred back as their kiss turned bloody.
"Mhm… Magnificent," she gasped against his lips when they broke apart. Her hips rolled obscenely against Cersei's suffocating face. "To think they called you the beggar king. Look at you now, conqueror of thrones and cunts both. Don’t you love this?"
That got Joffrey's blood boiling. His chair legs screeched against stone as he strained against his bonds. "Mother! MOTHER!" Spittle flew from his lips, his boyish features contorted in rage and something darker. "I'll kill you! I'll rip your entrails out and-"
Viserys didn't glance at the screaming boy. His violet eyes stayed locked on Ros as he rose to his knees, the muscles in his thighs flexing as he positioned himself above her. "Open. Let’s show the boy what he could never have," he said.
Ros obeyed like a well-trained hound, kissing the tip of his dragondick, and then tongue lolling obscenely. Viserys gripped her hair with one hand while the other guided his cock between painted lips. Her choked moan sent vibrations through him as he sheathed himself to the root, watching tears spring to her eyes.
"Good girl," he said, hips pistoning. "Take your king's fire."
Cersei's legs kicked feebly beneath them, the bed's protests drowned by wet gagging sounds. Ros' hands scrambled for purchase on Viserys' sweat-slick chest, her earlier poise shattered as he fucked her throat with relentless precision. Below them, Cersei's movements grew sluggish, her struggles weakening as Ros' weight pressed down.
Joffrey's screams dissolved into broken whimpers. His head lolled against the chair back, eyes glassy as they tracked the rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh. A dark stain spread across his breeches, the acrid stench of urine and weak semen joining the room's miasma of sex and sweat.
When Viserys finally spilled down Ros' throat, his roar was like that of a dragon as it shook dust from the canopy above.
The whore convulsed beneath him, her climax written in the arch of her spine and the desperate clutch of her fingers. She collapsed forward when he withdrew, crimson saliva trailing from swollen lips as she breathed heavily. Even in that situation, she turned her face toward Joffrey.
"All... hail... the king," she rasped, laughter bubbling through the mess on her chin.
The last thing Joffrey saw before darkness took him was his mother's limp hand slipping from beneath Ros' thigh, fingers twitching in the torchlight like a dying spider, as Viserys once again slammed into her.
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Author Note: This shit was crazy to write ?
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