“Drogon… you’re gorgeous…”
 
We’d taken a small break from my new transformation in order to carry dear Sansa Stark from the throne room floor to a bed in an opulent set of guest quarters, the kind of chambers reserved for visiting dignitaries… which, now that Daenerys had declared Sansa her Warden of the North, was exactly what she now was.
 
But we’d not actually gotten all the way out of said quarters before Daenerys’ curiosity had finally gotten the better of her. Just as I was turning away from putting Sansa to bed, my mother and Queen’s hand had splayed out across my chest and firmly pushed me back. Obviously, I didn’t actually feel much of anything in the way of force, I was who I was, and she was… well, she was human.
 
Still, I wasn’t inclined to make that readily apparent, so I went along with it and let out a soft grunt as I sat back on the edge of the bed. My large leathery wings lay folded behind me, but luckily Sansa did not wake, even as she curled into the extra set of ‘blankets’. Once she had me right where she wanted me, Daenerys wasted no time in running her hands across my body.
 
My mother seemed altogether enamored with my form, while I? I was taking stock, but that didn’t mean I was ignoring the gorgeous silver-haired woman before me. And she was all woman now. To think, I’d gotten to watch as Daenerys grew up. In a way, I’d been present for her rebirth, just as she’d been present for my birth.
 
She was no longer that naked girl I’d met in the fires of her husband’s funeral pyre though. She was a full-grown woman, a Queen in fact. And she’d finally made it home. There were still the White Walkers to deal with, of course, the Night King and his army of undead heading down towards the wall. But luckily for my beloved mother, I had all the foreknowledge in the world, and some plans for what to do with it.
 
Though, if I was being totally honest, I hadn’t planned for this. Oh sure, I’d felt it, as I grew. I hadn’t quite understood what was happening, but I’d known something was coming. There was no denying that gathering up women and adding them to my hoard, along with plenty of gold and treasure… it was doing something to me. It was changing me.
 
Now, I had a better understanding of what that meant. I was evolving, in a way. Planetos had the dumb kind of dragons, from everything I’d seen and read from both the show and the books. The original Drogon and his siblings were nothing more than winged beasts capable of bonding with their ‘mother’ and being her instruments of war, but not of independent thought, that was for sure.
 
But I was different. I had always been different. I was no winged beast. I was no animal, not like my siblings. I was a human mind in a dragon’s body, and yet, I’d thought that was all. But no, it was quickly becoming obvious that I had far more potential than I’d initially realized. Had it started when I ate the warlock back in Qarth? Or had that simply been a misleading smokescreen. Had I fooled myself into thinking that eating his crispy flesh was what caused me to start gaining powers like I had now?
 
What came first? The evolution, or the warlock? In the end, it didn’t really matter, did it? What mattered was the here and now, and now that I was here, I had to adapt. Though, to be fair, that seemed to be exactly what I was doing. I could feel it, within me. I could feel the power filling my veins, just wanting to burst out.
 
This transformation of mine, it was in no way permanent. I could return to my natural form at any time if I chose to do so, though obviously I wasn’t going to do that NOW when I was in a room small enough to crush not only me but the two women I was with as well. And wasn’t that nice? It had been quite a while now since I’d been small enough to fit through a doorway, let alone fit IN a set of opulent chambers as gorgeous as these.
 
Quite a while since I’d been able to sleep in a bed like the one, I was sat on now. Not that I minded my gold pile all that much, it felt good to my larger, natural form. Even still, I was only here now because I’d gained this transformation. The uses for such a form were endless… not the least because of my new mouth, allowing me to finally give voice to my intelligence.
 
Though, I wasn’t making much use of it right now, now was I? I open my lips to say something, rows of sharp teeth displayed inside, but before I can do so, a pair of small hands close around my draconic cock, causing me to look down in surprise. At some point, Daenerys has grown tired of studying my new form. I’d been aware of her hands wandering over my body, to be clear. She’d seemed fascinated by the way my scales and skin melded together now.
 
But I’d been so lost in my own thoughts that I hadn’t noticed her attention eventually fixating upon my phallus, the thick ridged dick hanging between my legs. It seemed the Queen of Westeros was going to have her way with me. Daenerys Targaryen kneels between my legs, still looking oh so small in comparison to my larger, humanoid figure. But now it’s the smallness of a woman to a man, rather than a human to a full-grown dragon.
 
The transition is the same for my cock, in all honesty. I’d known for a while now that I’d grown too big for any woman to properly take me in that way. Even for all my efforts to adjust my mother to my cock, there came a point where my member was the size of her entire body. She’d been forced to use said body to pleasure me for these last several months. Now that she could actually take me in between her lips again, Daenerys seemed quite eager to go so.
 
Looking down into my mother’s violet eyes as she sucks on my ridged, draconic cock, I can’t help but smile, reaching out to brush my knuckles across her cheek.
 
-x-X-x-

Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen was at a loss for words, if she was being honest. Beyond the obvious, declaring her beloved son beautiful in his new form, she’d not been sure what to say. So, she hadn’t said anything, even after they’d put Lady Stark to bed. She’d not had the words to explain her… awe. He was magnificent. There was no other word for it.
 
To be fair, he’d been magnificent before. Her beloved Drogon, outgrowing everything. She’d suspected that soon enough, he would be bigger than the entire fucking castle. She’d wondered if there would come a point where it might no longer even be viable to ride him safely, merely because he would no longer be able to feel her as anything more than an ant on his back.
 
These had been worries that had been keeping Daenerys up at night for weeks now, as she realized that Drogon was growing larger and larger, as she wondered just when he would stop. Soon, he would have gone beyond even what she’d heard growing up of Balerion the Black Dread from her brother. Now though… now he was in this new form. He was almost human… but at the same time, obviously not. If it weren’t for the wings, the scales and the teeth and the claws would have told her that much. This was not a man… this was still a dragon.
 
His cock was that of a dragon as well, even as the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms took his erection into her mouth, her jaw stretching wide to accommodate his ridged member. It was still distinctly draconic, nothing like her dearly departed husband’s. With ridges and a tapered tip and altogether an edged, segmented appearance, there was no denying that this was a dragon’s cock.
 
But it was a dragon’s cock that SHE could actually handle. And handle it Daenerys was, with gusto. It hadn’t been that long since she’d tasted Drogon’s cum or anything, to be fair. She’d still made a point of pleasuring him multiple times a day, though at this point her most beloved son had built up a harem of beauties that had made her feel rather useless, and more than jealous. When it’d just been her and Missandei, it was different. But now, she felt almost like she’d been replaced.
 
That was just her own insecurities rearing their ugly heads though. Daenerys knew deep down that she hadn’t truly been replaced. She was still Queen, after all. She was still Mother of Dragons. More importantly, she was still Drogon’s mother, his first woman. Daenerys would never ever let that be taken from her, and Drogon clearly had no intention of giving it away. She was always welcome in his lair, always allowed to take her pleasure from him. She and Missandei had had to tag team his gargantuan member the last few times though, and it’d been hard to coax him to release without being able to envelope him in one of her holes.
 
Even still, she’d kept up in getting her fill of Drogon’s cum. It’d just been a long time since she’d gotten it directly from the source. These days, it was more likely that she and Missandei would end up licking and slurping it up off each other. But no more. Now… now Daenerys COULD take it right from the source. And as she looks up into her Drogon’s yellow eyes, her mouth stuffed full of his cock, she can tell he’s getting close.
 
She wants it. She wants it all. Speeding up her pace, bobbing up and down on his draconic, ridged member, Daenerys Stormborn, Queen of Westeros, fellates her beloved son right to release, before happily drinking down the torrent of seed that comes from him as he groans in pleasure. Her hands clutch at his scaled legs as she swallows his white, hot cum, and while some of it sticks a bit in her throat, Daenerys fights her way through it, making sure to let not even a single drop free of her thirsty maw.
 
Drogon’s ejaculate is as delicious as ever, suffusing Daenerys with a warmth that makes her smile, her eyes drifting shut as she pulls back and lets his cock pop free of her lips. His seed settles in her belly, and she feels so damn hot… there’s no denying what’s to come next. She needs this. She needs HIM… and she WILL have him. She will-
 
“What… what happened? A-Ah, uhm… your majesty?”
 
Daenerys pops up from her kneeling position between Drogon’s legs just as the transformed dragon looks to his side to see that Sansa Stark has woken up and is staring at them both with wide eyes and a flushed expression on her face.
 
Oh right… she’d forgotten that the red head was here. Staring at her for a moment, Daenerys can’t help the wicked smile that spreads across her face. She would be a liar if she tried to claim that she didn’t still feel something akin to anger and hatred over how the Starks had sided against her family during her father’s rebellion.
 
There was no denying that Aerys had been mad, not now that she knew what she knew from those who had become her allies… but it still ached a bit, to know that her entire life had been turned upside down because of the Baratheons and the Starks. Still, if she could forgive Myrcella Baratheon for her father’s trespasses, then she could forgive Sansa Stark.
 
That didn’t mean she couldn’t take her pound of flesh in other ways, though…
 
-x-X-x-
 
Sansa had woken up to the sounds of gagging and gurgling. It had confused her for a moment, as had opening her eyes to find herself staring at a ceiling high over head that was not the throne room she’d been stood in when last she was conscious. And this was not the floor either, she’d realized after a moment of shifting about to realize she was in a very comfortable bed.
 
Though, there was something heavier than blankets or furs laid across her lower-half. Slowly lifting herself up onto her elbows, Sansa blinked rapidly as she took in the sight before her. It took longer than she would have liked to admit to realize that she was staring at the back profile of the humanoid dragon who she’d seen in the throne room. This was… this was the same massive black dragon that had eaten Littlefinger, sunk his ship, and then flown her across an ocean to bring her to his mother, wasn’t it?
 
By that point, the gurgling and gagging had turned to gulping, and Sansa was wondering what she was hearing, because it sounded like it was coming from the dragon… human thing’s crotch, and that was odd, right?
 
“What… what happened? A-Ah, uhm… your majesty?”
 
Surely the Queen was around here somewhere, right? But Sansa was NOT expecting Daenerys to pop up from in front of the dragon, a surprised look on her face and just a smidge of white coming off the corner of her mouth. Their eyes meet, and they stare at each other for a long moment… and then the Targaryen Queen’s lips curl into a wicked smile.
 
“Lady Stark… I think it’s time to discuss your position in my court.”
 
Sansa blinks rapidly at that. Or more accurately, she blinks rapidly at the follow up action Daenerys takes, which is to slip her beautiful dress off her shoulders, one at a time, letting it flow down off of her body, revealing the naked flesh beneath. Sansa had seen other women nude before, to be fair. But… never anyone so beautiful. And she hadn’t… she didn’t think that this was proper in any way shape or form.
 
Especially not when Daenerys prodded Drogon off of the bed and then pulled back the blankets covering Sansa before climbing on. The nightgown that she was still wearing suddenly felt even more inadequate than it had when she’d been riding on the black dragon’s back on the way here. As Daenerys prowls up to her, crawling until she’s on top of her, all Sansa can do is shrink back and blush.
 
“I-I’m not sure I understand, your grace.”
 
“That’s alright. You don’t need to understand. Just enjoy.”
 
And then Daenerys’ lips are on Sansa’s, and the two of them are kissing, much to the red head’s utter shock and confusion. This… this is not something that has ever happened to her before. Sansa Stark has been through a LOT since her father made the ill-fated decision to betroth her to Joffrey and take most of the family south with him. She’s seen men die, she’s been beaten and hurt. She’s never been raped, thankfully, but that didn’t stop though who had physically abused her from touching her inappropriately as well.
 
And yet, that had always been men who’d stolen kisses here and there, smashing their rough mouths, usually framed by beards or some stubble against her soft lips, making a point to nibble at them, to bite at them. Sansa had born with it, but she’d never ever enjoyed it. She’d simply put on a mask and accepted what was being done to her.
 
This though, none of what she’d been through had prepared her for this. To have a gorgeous naked Targaryen hovering over her, kissing her most tenderly, their lips moving together in something of an exotic, erotic dance, rather than an assault on her very person as every kiss she’d ever had before this had been. It didn’t help that there was a taste on Daenerys’ lips and tongue that Sansa couldn’t quite place, a taste that made her feel altogether warm and satisfied, like the freshest of lemon cakes.
 
Sansa whimpers beneath the Targaryen Queen, wiggling and writhing. This had to be against the teachings of the Seven, right? She couldn’t… she couldn’t possibly be involved in such lewd behavior. And yet, if this was wrong, if this was something bad… why did it feel good? She’d been hurt so much for so long, and by so-called devout followers of the Seven at that. If this was wrong… Sansa wasn’t sure she wanted to be right, anymore.
 
Kissing Daenerys back is an impulsive decision, but once she starts, Sansa finds she can’t stop. Her and the Targaryen Queen make out for what feels like an eternity, and in the meantime, Daenerys seems insistent on getting access to every last bit of Sansa’s body. Her nightgown ends up hiked up past her waist first, and while Daenerys pushes a hand up underneath it to gently knead a breast, it’s the hand she puts between Sansa’s legs that really gets the red head’s attention.
 
She’s never been touched down there before, and certainly not by another woman. But when Daenerys does it… it feels good. Sansa doesn’t mind it all that much, even if it does provoke strange feelings within her. She wants more… she wants Daenerys to go further. And further the Targaryen Queen goes. Fingers dip inside of Sansa’s lower lips, pushing past her folds, and all the inexperienced young maiden can do is moan into Daenerys’ mouth as the Queen continues to kiss her.
 
Her hips buck upwards instinctively, and her hands claw at the bedding she’s laid upon, gripping it tightly. Daenerys plays her like a finely tuned instrument, and Sansa produces a melody that eventually reaches a crescendo as she cries out, head tilting back and back arching from the climax that subsequently tears through her frame. Her body bucks and spasms on the Targaryen Queen’s fingers, before Sansa inevitably collapses backwards.
 
She’s still trying to recover, still trying to catch her breath when Daenerys begins to pull her nightgown all the way over her head. Blushing up a storm but in no real position to resist, the red head lets it happen, even lifting her arms to help. As soon as the sheer, thin garment is off of her, the Targaryen Queen tosses it away and then falls upon Sansa’s completely unprotected, nubile flesh once more.
 
Was this what her service to Daenerys Stormborn was going to be? As the gorgeous violet-eyed woman lavishes praise upon Sansa’s breasts, groping and squeezing them, while at the same time lapping and nibbling at them, the young Stark girl can’t quite bring herself to mind all that much. If this is what Daenerys requires of her… t-then so be it.
 
Of course, that’s right up until the Targaryen Queen abruptly flips them both over, and Sansa finds herself laid out on top of Daenerys, even as the other woman wraps her arms around her, hooking her feet on Sansa’s ankles and spreading her legs wide. Completely exposed now, Sansa finds herself face to face with the transformed dragon that brought her here to this island in the first place. Drogon is watching her and Daenerys… and he’s got his cock in hand, stroking it as it points directly at her.
 
“Drogon… she’s ready for you.”
 
Sansa whimpers as Daenerys’ words ghost past her ear, the Queen’s fingers still playing with her admittedly wet folds. Squirming a bit as Drogon approaches, the Stark girl bites her lower lip before speaking.
 
“W-Wait! I… I…”
 
Both Daenerys and her dragon turned humanoid creature pause at that, at least. Sansa is grateful, because the more she stares at Drogon’s c-cock, the more fearful she becomes.
 
“S-Surely… surely my Queen would prefer I keep my maidenhood intact for whoever she chooses to, um… marry me off to?”
 
It’s not exactly something Sansa is looking forward to, being married to another man without a say in the matter like she was to Tyrion Lannister. But at the very least, Tyrion never touched her. And hopefully Daenerys will find her a good match. She’s expecting it, it’s the way of things after all. What she’s NOT expecting is laughter from the Targaryen Queen.
 
“Lady Stark… what part of Warden of the North did you not understand? You may marry if you like, but I will not choose your husband for you. And you certainly will not have to go to your wedding bed a maiden. You are the future of House Stark. Whatever man eventually marries you and gives you children will be expected to be subservient to you, not the other way around.”
 
She doesn’t really understand what Daenerys is saying, initially. It’s rather hard to process such strange ideas, after spending a lifetime being groomed as nothing more than a wife to some Lord… or as the case might have been in a different sort of world, to a Prince and eventually a King. She might have been Queen, if Joffrey wasn’t so awful, if the Lannisters weren’t all monsters.
 
Still, the very idea of her being Lady of Winterfell, Warden of the North… it IS an odd one. But now Drogon’s ridged cock is pressing against her folds, and Sansa is whimpering, unsure of what to do now. She’s run out of excuses. Surprisingly though, the transformed dragon stops, and gives her a surprisingly kind smile as he rests a clawed hand gently against her cheek.
 
“It’s alright. We’ll take it slow.”
 
Leave it to the inhuman creature to be kinder and gentler with her than most of the human men she’d ever known in her life. Sansa bites her lower lip, but in the end, she just nods, accepting his words as truth. She has no other choice, not with Daenerys holding her tight and spreading her pussy lips wide with two fingers. She’s altogether exposed… but as Drogon sinks his member into her depths, he goes slowly, taking his time and making sure not to hurt her too much.
 
He still tears her maidenhood, of course. As she loses her virginity, Sansa cries out. But as if waiting for this moment, Daenerys pinches one of her nipples and flicks at the small nub above her slit with her thumb at the same time. The pleasure that accompanies these two motions is unexpected, and her pained cry is followed up with a throaty moan. Said moan is then swallowed by Drogon kissing her.
 
If you’d told Sansa Stark that she would be kissed by a dragon who’d become something of a man, she would never have believed you. But then, if you’d told an even earlier version of Sansa Stark that her dear Joffrey would betray her and have her father executed right before her eyes… well, needless to say, Sansa was used to surprises at this point. She just wasn’t used to enjoying them quite so much.

And she was definitely enjoying this. Drogon waits for a moment after the initial push inside of her, and only starts moving again when he’s sure she’s ready. Then… he fucks her. It’s not lovemaking, as much as Sansa might have wanted it to be. He’s still a dragon, and she doesn’t imagine he knows the meaning of taking things slow for anything longer than short periods of time. Drogon starts off slow, sure, allowing her to adjust properly… but then he begins to thrust.
 
But it’s alright, because Daenerys is there the entire time. Laid out beneath her, the Targaryen Queen never stops whispering sweet nothings into Sansa’s ear, she never stops caressing Sansa’s breasts, she never stops playing with Sansa’s clit. Daenerys seems to know exactly what the Stark girl needs right now, and she gives it to her.
 
Sansa, meanwhile, is being attacked from all sides. She can’t keep up, not with how Drogon’s ridged, draconic length feels buried in her stretched out virgin cunt, or with how Daenerys’ hands feel, roaming up and down her writhing, sweaty body. She’s overwhelmed, there’s no other way to describe it, and it’s beyond anything she could ever have imagined.
 
Crying out, Sansa climaxes around Drogon’s cock. The pleasure is too great for her not to experience an orgasm or two as the transformed dragon fucks her atop his mother, atop her new Queen. She’s pledged herself to Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen after all… service to her Queen might not be exactly what Sansa was expecting, sure, but she can work with it.
 
And when Drogon finally cums… the red head sees stars. His seed fills her, painting her insides, and Sansa’s eyes nearly bulge out of her skull as she nearly bites down on her tongue in surprise. It feels so good… it feels so WARM. Sticky, hot semen coats her inner walls and Sansa has never felt more satisfied, more fulfilled, in her entire time. It’s as if she’s had an awakening. Is it always like this? Does all sex feel this amazing?
 
“Heh, with Drogon, it is. But take it from me, Lady Stark… ONLY Drogon can make you feel THIS good.”
 
She hadn’t realized she spoke out loud until Daenerys giggled and gave her an answer. Blushing, Sansa almost wants to hide her face in her hands. But there’d be no point, not really. Every other part of her is exposed, why bother with being embarrassed, right? Licking her lips, Sansa looks up into Drogon’s draconic golden eyes. Then, she looks back at the smiling face of her new Queen.
 
Finally, hesitantly, but no less needily, Sansa speaks.
 
“M-More?”
 
They both laugh at her a little for that, Drogon with a deep chuckle, and Daenerys with a light, soft giggle. But Sansa doesn’t mind, because once they’re done laughing, they give her exactly what she’s asked for. And for the first time in a long time, Lady Sansa Stark is happy. She’s content, she’s satisfied. She’s finally… safe, in good company. The world can’t hurt her here. Neither her Queen nor the Queen’s dragon will allow it. Sansa believes this, with every fiber of her being.

-x-X-x-

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