As my mother leaves me alone with Margaery Tyrell, Would-Be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, I grin a little, and begin to shift from my spot on the edge of the room, stalking forward. Margaery’s entreating words, having no effect on my mother’s back as Daenerys walks out of the room, die down as she turns to face me, taking me in as I rise up on my full height. Feeling perhaps a little melodramatic, I bring my wing claws crashing down on either side of the small young woman, eyeing her up and down as she jumps and twitches each time, ultimately freezing up in between my wings.
 
It’d been a spur of the moment thing, snatching up Margaery Tyrell and making off with her from the Purple Wedding. Killing Tywin had been fun, and so had terrorizing everyone else. But Joffrey was definitely dead now, and since I’d almost certainly delivered a nice tail swipe that removed the head of the man who was supposed to sneak Sansa away from the wedding and then the city, she herself was still there, along with Tyrion.
 
And with no Tywin to temper Cersei Lannister’s rage, well, I could guess what was going to happen next. I had some time to play with my newest toy, and then I would be back to King’s Landing to clean up the mess I made. Maybe. Maybe I’d just fuck with them some more instead, we’d have to see. Regardless, for now, I had Margaery Tyrell, whom, as a human, I’d considered probably the most beautiful woman on the show.
 
Oh sure, my mother was pretty smoking hot as well, and now that I’d been intimate with Daenerys more times than I could count, I could safely say she was currently beating Margaery’s trembling, terrified form by a landslide. There was just something so damn sexy about seeing Dany’s face contorting with pleasure as she rides my gargantuan cock. Though, my length IS getting pretty large. At this point, my mother is even starting to have trouble with it. I’m growing far, far too big to keep up my sexual lifestyle…
 
Regardless, that was something to consider for another time. As was the fact that every time I added to my hoard, be it in gold or gems or women, I felt… stronger, somehow. That was something I was still considering, something I needed to figure out before going any further. For now, though, it was time to play.
 
Reaching out with my mind, with my extra sense, I prod Margaery with my desire. Her beautiful brown eyes go wide, and she’s rocked backwards a step by my intentions.
 
“Y-You… I… you want to…”
 
I prod her again, this time with actual images. The images feature her undressing, and end with her wearing a distinct amount of nothing before me… save for that cute crown I’d gone ahead and plopped up on her head. Daenerys had not been amused by Margaery’s attempt at subterfuge, but then, my mother didn’t know the Would-Be Queen like I did. Margaery Tyrell would do anything to climb the social ladder.
 
Watching emotions flicker across her face, I cock my massive draconic head to the side in a rather disturbing fashion thanks to my long, sinuous neck. Margaery’s eyes follow me, but I can see the consideration in her gaze now, I can see her quick-witted mind overtaking her fear and terror. She’s feeling the weight of that crown now, and my lips curl back all the further to show off rows and rows of sharp dragon fangs in a somewhat macabre grin. I have her, and we both know it.
 
“… Very well…”
 
Outwardly, Margaery manages to come across as far more composed than she actually is, not quite understanding yet that I can feel how much turmoil she’s currently experiencing, not realizing I can see just how afraid she still is, though she’s fighting it back admirably even as she begins to undress right before my eyes. The beautiful wedding dress comes off easily enough, slipping off her smooth, creamy shoulders and sliding down her arms as she works it down the length of her gorgeous, hourglass figure.
 
She actually starts to get into it, and upon seeing the sway in her hips and the way her eyes are lulling shut, I pull back briefly, giving her enough room to work as she strips the rest of the way. It’s like something out of an amateur stripping video from back home, to be perfectly honest. It’s clear that she doesn’t truly know what she’s doing, but also clear that she’s a sensual and sexual enough creature that she’s willing to just go with the flow and use that sensuality, as well as her sexuality, to try and entice me.
 
Cute, but I’m already enticed. Eventually though, one Margaery Tyrell, Would-Be Queen, complete with a crown atop her head, stands before me without a single other article of clothing on her body. She’s got something of a lewd little grin on her face now, though perhaps its better described as sultry, or seductive. Margaery is the one who stalks forward now, even as I lay out along the breadth of the large balcony, because that is where we are at this point.

Dragonstone has a perch near the top which was clearly made for dragons to disgorge their riders, because there was an entrance into the keep that led straight to the throne room. But I digress… there’s a naked Tyrell in front of me.
 
“So big… so strong. If these are the cards I am dealt, who am I to complain, yes? Will you accept me, Drogon? Will you… take me as your Queen?”
 
She’s grasping so damn hard right now, and I kind of love it. Margaery Tyrell is no fool like her father. But she’s also got a long way to go before she can lay claim to a title like her grandmother’s, the Queen of Thorns. Though to be fair to the girl, she’s up against a dragon. I honestly don’t think even Olenna could have possibly navigated a ‘conversation’ with me without making a few mistakes.
 
Or perhaps in her old age, the elderly woman would have simply known better and not engage at all, save to bend the knee and bow her head. Regardless, a masterful tactician, her granddaughter is not. A naked Margaery creeps ever closer, and as she does so, I flop onto my side, and let my massive draconic cock, ridged and thick and almost as large as Margaery herself.
 
It’s no wonder that the Tyrell girl stops dead upon laying eyes on it.
 
“T-That… I won’t… I can’t f-fit that thing inside of me, m-mighty Drogon…”
 
I snort derisively at that, and a plume of black smoke launches from my flaring nostrils. For the epitome of seduction, one would expect Margaery to stay composed for a LITTLE bit longer. Still, as I’d just got done thinking, she is pretty far out of her depth. I just figured she’d try to fake it until she made it. Either way… I push out at her mentally, sending her some more images, some more desires, what I want from her. I don’t overwhelm her quite yet, not like I’ve done with other women in my growing hoard. No, I want to tease her for a LITTLE longer at least…
 
Trembling as she nods slowly, processing what I want her to do, Margaery creeps forward, a lot less confident than before as she finally descends to her knees at my side, right before my thick cock. Her hands reach out, and she lays them on my member, starting to slide them up and down, slowly getting a feel for what she’s dealing with.
 
“W-Warm… hot, even. You’re very hot, mighty Drogon…”
 
The words are murmured, and I’m not entirely sure if she even knows she’s speaking. She’s still staring at my member after all, and more specifically, the leaking tip of it, where my seed is already beginning to pulse out of me, bit by bit, though not a full climax by any means. I rumble appreciatively when Margaery Tyrell leans forward without any input from me and promptly seals her lips around the flared tip of my ridged length, starting to suck at my cockhead even as she has to press her soft body against the side of my shaft just to get close.
 
One of my eyes watches her, even as I lay back and enjoy the ministrations, the worship by this Would-Be Queen. At the same time, her chocolate-brown gaze slides up to fixate on that visible yellow eye, and she stares at me, even as she drinks more and more of my precum, even as she slobbers and drools, what she doesn’t drink sliding down between my cock and her body and causing her to slide up and down my length all the more easily.
 
She’s wrapped herself around my shaft at this point, her crown barely remaining in place as she grows more and more enthusiastic. I just grin, my sharp teeth on full display. That’s a good girl. That’s a good little Would-Be Queen. She’s mine now, my pet, my toy… part of MY hoard. Something deep inside of me rumbles with approval at that thought as well, though of course Margaery takes it as a sign that she’s doing well and ultimately redoubles her efforts in an attempt to please and impress me.
 
As she does so, I take a moment to contemplate some of the sensations I’ve been feeling of late. I was beginning to think I wasn’t necessarily ONLY Drogon, ONLY a Planetosian Dragon. Obviously, I didn’t know for sure, and I couldn’t exactly say for sure yet either… but there were signs. And I felt like I was on the cusp of something, like I was closing in on something more than just this.
 
I was the Apex Predator of this entire damn world, but there was more to it than that, and I just had to keep pushing forward, I just had to keep… collecting. Yes, that was definitely what part of this feeling was. It wasn’t so much the additions to the hoard that did it for me. Oh, they helped, I could tell that much. The best feeling that I could liken it to was like some sort of ‘XP Bar’ that I was constantly filling up.
 
A gold dragon counted as one ‘point’, while a gem might count as three or five. My growing hoard of treasure certainly contributed to this imaginary ‘bar’ that existed only in my head, as did the collection of women. However, it was only when those women submitted totally, only when they worshipped me and accepted their place at my feet, that I felt a true increase in the bar, measured in hundreds instead of ones or threes or fives.
 
That was interesting. That was something to explore. And right now, as Margaery Tyrell, the Would-Be Queen of Westeros, stolen on her wedding day from a King she’d poisoned moments before I picked her up, worshipped my cock… I could feel quite a lot of power flowing into me. Not enough, not yet… but a lot. Not that I even could really tell what enough would be, but I didn’t intend to stop until I found it.
 
With a growling groan, I begin to cum. Margaery is rather skilled with her technique, despite dealing with a male she’s never encountered before. My entire member, ridged and large and draconic, is covered in her pussy juices and her saliva and more as she hugs it close and continues to suck on the head of my massive phallus.
 
Of course, when I finally begin to cum, her head is rocked back, she’s not at all able to handle the pressure. She takes the first pulse of seed to the back of her throat and the next twenty to her body as my cum sprays upwards and then rains down upon her, coating her and her crown in a thick, viscous layer of seed. Margaery just kneels there for a moment, taking it and seemingly accepting that this was her new lot in life.
 
Then, a little bit of it slips onto her tongue, and I get to watch what happened to Daenerys, to my mother, happen all over again as Margaery Tyrell begins to consume my seed, seeming to find the taste quite agreeable indeed. My wicked, toothy grin remains on my face, even as I snake my tail around behind the preoccupied girl, sliding it up… and right through her crown, taking it off her head easily.
 
The cum-covered young woman freezes at that, and her eyes track to where the crown is now dangling from the tip of my tail, high above her. I make sure she’s watching, and then I fling the crown with casual contempt off of the perch, letting it sail away, far, far away. It won’t even hit land, I’ve made sure of that. The thing will eventually hit the water, and then it’ll sink beneath the waves.
 
Of course, it pains me a little to get rid of any part of my hoard, even the crown. I can quite literally feel the loss, deep inside of me. But it was worth it to deliver this abject lesson to one Margaery Tyrell. As she looks from where the crown disappeared back to me, I make sure to make eye contact with her… and I continue to do so until she bows her head in supplication and obedience.
 
She’s not quite broken yet. I’m taking my time with her. But she knows better than to test me… and no matter what she might desire, she will ALWAYS be the Would-Be Queen. Nothing more. After all, my mother is going to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, once we deal with the White Walkers. There’s no place for rival sovereigns in such a world.
 
Which gives me an idea for what I’ll do next. Having finished with inducting Margaery Tyrell into my hoard, I scoop her up and leap down from the perch with her, heading back to a lower carved out entryway that leads to my domain near the top of Dragonstone, even as Margaery screams. Time to introduce her to the others… and then, it’ll be time for me to head back to King’s Landing.
 
No more Queens besides my mother. That’s just how it was going to be.
 
-x-X-x-
 
Cersei comes back to consciousness… slowly. Her head hurts a little, but as she begins to move around, she finds her entire body actually aches. The last thing she remembers is… what? She was watching Ser Payne as he was about to split her bastard dwarf of a little brother in twain, right? Tyrion had demanded a trial by combat, the little fool. And he’d been about to die for it, she distinctly remembered that.
 
But something had gone wrong. The earth had quaked and rumbled, and the last thing she remembered was turning with everyone else to watch as the black scaled dragon that burned and consumed her father barreled down towards her. With that memory being the last one Cersei has, the blonde Queen quickly sits up, eyes wide as her full senses come back to her, adrenaline rushing through her body.
 
How… how was she even still alive?! The dragon had definitely been coming for her. She’d seen teeth and claws and large yellow eyes staring right into her own, right before it all went black. Had she… had she fainted? But then, why had the dragon left her alive? Why-
 
“Mother. You’re awake.”
 
Cersei is abruptly torn from her thoughts by a voice she hadn’t expected to hear, ever again. Slowly, the Queen Mother turns her head to find Myrcella Baratheon, her once-lost daughter, knelt beside her, expressionless and staring at her. For a moment, Cersei feels nothing but happiness, a deep joy that causes an instinctive and altogether honest smile to spread across her face. Just seeing her daughter’s features again, those gorgeous eyes, her beautiful blonde hair, her feminine cheeks…
 
Lunging forward, the older woman wraps her arms around her child… possibly her only child at this point. Joffrey was dead, and Tommen… Tommen had been up on the platform with her when the dragon had attacked, as had Jaime. It was entirely possible that she and Myrcella were the last Lannisters alive.
 
“Myrcella! You’ve returned to me!”
 
Of course, as happy as she is, it only takes one sentence from her daughter to bring her out of the fantasy she finds herself in.
 
“No mother, I have not.”
 
This time, Cersei registers the flat, dispassionate, and altogether unaffectionate tone of her wayward, lost daughter’s voice. Pulling back, the Queen Mother stares at Myrcella, finally taking her in fully… every last bit of her. From the flinty look in her eyes, to the set of her clenched jaw… and then finally down below her neckline, to the truly scandalous sheer garment that Myrcella is wearing, a dress that makes her look more like… like a slave then the princess she rightfully is.
 
Cersei opens her mouth to say something about this, to question her daughter, but Myrcella beats her to the punch, finishing her thought.
 
“I haven’t gone anywhere, mother. You’ve been brought to me… to join me.”
 
What? Cersei’s thought process is thoroughly derailed as she takes that in. But at the end of the day, it makes a startling amount of sense. Why would Myrcella be here in King’s Landing, wearing that? Why would she be the only one to greet her upon waking, rather than a Maester? Simple enough… they weren’t IN King’s Landing.
 
For the first time, Cersei takes in their surroundings. It doesn’t help much, given that they’re in a massive hall, man-made obviously, but larger than any room she’s ever seen before. Pillars of stone and granite and marble litter the place, likely to hold the ceiling up, along with some hastily constructed scaffolding that likely has the same purpose.
 
Of course, Cersei glances over all of that, instead fixating on what she considers to be the room’s most important feature. It’s certainly the most prominent, because along one side of the massive hall… is a heaping pile of gold, jewels, and jewelry that leaves the Queen Mother’s mouth agape and her eyes wide as she stares at it in silent shock.
 
She’s a daughter of Casterly Rock, and as a child, she’d managed to sneak into the Lannister Treasury a handful of times. She’s seen a lot of gold in one place before… or at least, she thought she had. This though? This is more wealth than the Seven Kingdoms could possibly have ever had. It’s mind-boggling, and she finds her first thought is right, because as she peers closer, she takes note of the fact that not all the coinage is from the Seven Kingdoms. Oh sure, there are gold dragons aplenty… but there are also plenty of oddly shaped coins that she knows from her lessons, long since passed, come from Free Cities in Essos.
 
“Myrcella… where are we?”
 
Her daughter snorts indelicately, and Cersei whips her head around, instinctively ready to reprimand her for her impropriety and lack of manners. But once again, Myrcella beats her to the punch with an answer that causes her blood to run cold.
 
“We’re in Drogon’s lair, mother. Where else would we be?”
 
At first, she thinks she hears ‘dragon’. But then it processes correctly, and she realizes it doesn’t matter, because Myrcella might as well have said dragon. Drogon was supposed to be the name of one of that Targaryen cunt’s three dragons. The dragons that Cersei hadn’t believed existed until the day of her son’s death, the day that was supposed to be the best of Joffrey’s life. It was definitely a dragon that killed Tywin, a dragon that stole away Margaery Tyrell and threw the realm into chaos.
 
It was a big… black dragon, and as Cersei starts to move towards Myrcella, starts to get the idea that they needed to run, NOW, a massive shape shifts through the shadows on the side of the room opposite of the giant pile of treasure. Cersei stares at it over her daughter’s shoulder, tensing in fear.
 
“Myrcella, we have to go. We have to get out of here, right now.”
 
“Don’t be silly, mother. Drogon wouldn’t like that. And as his servant, it is my duty to serve him.”
 
That immediately raises Cersei’s hackles, and she takes her eyes off of the shifting black shape for a second to glare at her daughter, practically snarling.
 
“You are NO man’s servant, Myrcella!”
 
Unfortunately, it seems that taking her eyes off of the shape was a mistake, because the next thing Cersei knows, there’s a truly massive shadow looming over them both, and as she slowly looks up, she finds large yellow eyes and even larger rows of fangs staring back down at her as the massive black dragon grins. Myrcella, meanwhile, is completely unfazed, still held by the shoulders as she lets out a soft sigh in the face of her mother’s arrogance.
 
“Drogon isn’t a man, mother.”
 
And that’s when Drogon himself interjects. The dragon doesn’t speak, not in the way Cersei is accustomed to. But she feels him all the same, and he’s inside her head, while also filling the room with his presence, pressing in on her from every direction. When Myrcella pulls herself free of her mother’s grasp and stands up, looming over the Queen Mother, Cersei can’t help but cry out.
 
It’s too much… it’s just too much. It’s… it’s majestic. Tears stream down the older woman’s face, the beautiful mother of three sobbing as she stares up at her daughter, and at the magnificent creature just over her shoulder, looming over both of them even now. It… no, not it, HE is… is everything. Cersei Lannister has never been one for religion, outside of ways she could use it to get what she wanted. But in this moment, the woman has something akin to a religious experience, her face enraptured as the sheer weight of Drogon’s presence breaks her.
 
Why was she fighting so hard to remain Queen? Why had she been so hateful and spiteful towards Margaery Tyrell? What was the point in all of that political power, when it held not a candle in the face of Drogon’s glory, his personal might? She’d been a fool. Myrcella was right. Drogon was not a man. But he was worthy of worship. He was worthy of service…
 
Desire pounds into Cersei’s mind, and from the sound of things, Myrcella’s as well. Her daughter gasps and then moans in delight and falls to her knees beside her mother once more, her hands disappearing beneath the sheer garment she’s wearing as she begins to pleasure herself. Cersei doesn’t even realize she’s falling suit until her dress is half undone by her own hands and she’s able to hear her own moans exiting her lips.
 
But once she starts… she just can’t bring herself to stop. She needs this. She needs what Drogon has to offer. She wants… she wants to serve.
 
-x-X-x-
 
As Cersei’s ironclad will breaks under the massive weight of my own, I can’t help but smile even wider than I already am, rows and rows of teeth on full display as I take in the sight of mother and daughter masturbating for my amusement right before my eyes. Of course, Cersei has a lot more cloth to get through before she can touch herself in the same way Myrcella is doing from the very beginning with ease, but there’s a lot of fun to be had in watching the sexy MILF of a Queen as she tears at her own extravagant dress without a care, still staring up at me with wide eyes and tear streaks down her perfect cheeks.
 
She really is beautiful. Cersei Lannister, former Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Unlike Margaery though, she’d actually been Queen, and for a long while as well. Margaery was fun to toy with and play with for a time, but Cersei was the kind of woman who’d been prepared to kill herself and everyone else if Stannis managed to breach the Red Keep during his attack on King’s Landing. I could only imagine how far she would go if she felt like there was no escape from a dragon and his mistress, the last Targaryen.
 
No, best to shatter her now. And from the way she was fingering herself in such a humiliating fashion, her torn dress exposing her flesh and her body shaking and shivering and bucking against her own digits, it was obvious that the Lannister MILF was most definitely broken. Still, that didn’t mean I was done with her yet.
 
Moving away from the two women, over to the massive mounds of gold and gems and what not that are gathered along one wall of the giant chamber, I settle onto my hoard of material wealth with a satisfying crooning sound, laying out atop it and watching as Myrcella’s eyes light up the moment I expose my underbelly… and more importantly, my cock.
 
She rises from her knees, and when her mother doesn’t immediately follow, she shows just how vicious she can be by grabbing the older woman by her hair, gripping tightly at Cersei’s long blonde curls and dragging her across the room on her hands and knees as she cries out pitifully in the face of her daughter’s abusive actions.
 
Myrcella lets go once she reaches the edge of the pile, and then climbs up the mountain of gold to reach me. Cersei, now seeing what her daughter is doing, and with a pulse of helpful desire from me, follows after Myrcella, climbing up as well. Once she gets to where she wants to be, Myrcella strips out of her concubine’s dress and helps her mother tear off the tattered remains of her own dress as well.
 
Then, she lays herself out on her back across my hoard, leaving her hands and her mouth in reach of my ridged member. Cersei does the same, practically mimicking her daughter at this point, though her eyes never leave my cock. But to be fair, neither do Myrcella’s. The mother-daughter pair reach out in unison as I prod them with my satisfaction at their actions, combined with my desire for them to do more.
 
Together, the two begin to work over my massive length, as well as my hefty ball sack. I lay back and let them have at it, luxuriating in the sensations of both them hard at work, and the gorgeous pile of gold pressed against my spiked back. This? This was the life. Oh yes. And Cersei Lannister was officially my fucking bitch.
 
The thought brings a big, wicked smile to my face, and I can feel the power I’m drawing from the former Queen now that I’m looking for it, even as she gives me her loyalty, her devotion, her adoration. All she has to do is worship me for whatever this is deep inside of me to grow and expand. Soon… soon, I feel like I just might become something new, and I don’t even know what. All I know is, I’m looking forward to finding out what it is.
 
For now, though, Myrcella is teaching her mother all about how to please their master, how to please ME. And that alone would be a sight worth witnessing, even without the delightful pleasure that accompanies it. Still… I don’t think I’m done terrorizing King’s Landing quite yet. After all, I haven’t completed the set, now have I?
 
At this point, there were three women worth snatching up in King’s Landing. Margaery Tyrell, I’d taken on her wedding day. Cersei Lannister, I grabbed up right before she could witness her hated brother’s death. Whether Tyrion had lived or not was up in the air, but I HAD witnessed him stabbing his executioner in the face again and again as I left the promenade in utter chaos.
 
So even if he was killed afterwards in the chaos that followed, I didn’t doubt that one of the myriad of people who had interest in Sansa Stark at this point would have made sure she was safe. And Sansa was the last I needed to grab before I finished the set. The Would-Be Queen, the Queen Mother… and the girl who regretted everything.
 
Sansa was who I’d go find next. Starting tomorrow though. For now, I’m going to spend the rest of tonight with my two blonde pets. Myrcella and Cersei, daughter and mother… now my sweet little concubines, eager parts of my growing hoard. Right where they both belonged.

-x-X-x-

If you'd like to read more of my work not seen on this website, check out Hentai-Foundry.com and QuestionableQuesting.com where I have over a thousand stories! I'm known as 'Cambrian' on those websites.

If you'd like to contribute to funding my writing at all, check me out on Patreon.com/Cambrian

Thanks for reading!