Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
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Daenerys Targaryen couldn't stop thinking about what Margaery Tyrell had done to her. It was so embarrassing, humiliating, and infuriating. Not the kind of thing which could afford to go unpunished. If it did, surely Margaery would get ideas above her station. Truly, Daenerys should have punished her the first chance she got. That would've been the Targaryen thing to do.
Hells, she should have had the bitch fed to her dragons, which really would be the Targaryen thing to do. However, for better or for worse, she couldn't do that, she still cared for the other woman. Besides, better to turn the tables back to what they should be. Oh yes, she was going to fuck that bitch in the ass, and turn her into just another broken sub in her collection.
However, after suffering a blow to her pride, Daenerys felt like she couldn't just go straight into it. No, she needed a pick me up, by dominating one of her favourite pets. So, once her ass hole had fully recovered, the Mother of Dragons went in search of a bottom to dominate. Unfortunately, she didn't recover fully from her ordeal until the next day.
Hells, it felt like she would never truly recover, and she was paranoid there was a small difference to her butt, even now. But she couldn't wait any longer. And she couldn't settle for anything less than a Stark slut. Oh yes, topping a highborn girl was exactly what she needed right now. Ideally, her wife to be. Unfortunately, when Daenerys entered the chamber's without knocking, she found not only Arya and Sansa Stark, but the woman who had been haunting her thoughts.
"Your grace, please come in." Margaery beamed, "We were just talking about you."
"You were?" Daenerys asked cautiously, quickly shutting the door behind her.
"Nothing bad, I assure you." Margaery chuckled, slowly getting off the bed, and approaching her Queen, "I was just informing the Starks what fun we had last night."
"Oh?" Daenerys questioned nervously.
"Yes..." Margaery allowed Daenerys to squirm for a few more long seconds, before adding, "How we spent the night dining on what the other had to offer."
"Oh?" Daenerys questioned again, but this time obviously with relief.
"That is what happened, isn't it?" Margaery gently pushed.
"Of course." Daenerys quickly confirmed.
"In that case, I'm sure your grace will grace us with a demonstration." Margaery grinned, again moving forward, this time all the way into Daenerys's personal space, "I know particularly Sansa was anxious to see that we were getting along. Mmmmmmmm, so I'm sure you'll be eager to oblige. That way we can make her jealous. of course. Both of them."
"Of course." Daenerys agreed breathlessly.
This was an obvious trap of some kind. But it needn't be one for Daenerys. No, all she needed to do, was to take control over the situation. Then it would be a trap for Margaery. Or at the very least, her trap would be her undoing. Admittedly, this could be just an excuse, to explain why the mighty Queen Daenerys Targaryen allowed her tormenter to pull her into her arms and kiss her.
Which just like the first time, was surprisingly gentle and sweet. Especially considering what had happened between them the night before. But again, maybe it was for the best? After all, clearly the goal of both women at this point was to lull the other into a false sense of security. One which both planned to take full advantage of.
Although for now, they were quite content with simply becoming lost in that kiss. Or at the very least, Daenerys was. Honestly, to an embarrassing degree. Especially when Arya and Sansa were watching them. Gods, Daenerys should have done a better job at taking control from the start. But there was just something about Margaery Tyrell which was just so disarming.
Which in turn was infuriating, but not enough to make the Queen come to her senses. Although she did her best to fight back, with her tongue and her hands, the latter of which roamed the other woman's body, as the kiss became increasingly heated. Which would probably work a lot better, if Margaery wasn't giving as good as she got. And maybe better.
Margaery Tyrell was playing with fire, literally. After everything she had been through, she should know better by now. And she did. But she just couldn't help herself. Besides, she'd already probably declared war on the Dragon Queen, so backing off now could be almost worse than if she pushed forward. Hells, if last night was to be the beginning of the end for her, she'd rather go down swinging. So to speak.
Because yes, Margaery had never truly been a fighter, but then again, neither had Daenerys. Oh yes, they specialized in getting others to do their dirty work. Or used their charms to get their way. Or both, which was always the favourite of the Tyrells. This being no exception. In fact, this was pretty enjoyable. Regardless what it might cost her.
To be fair, Margaery was off to a good start, manipulating Daenerys to remove her clothes, and then join her on the bed. Best of all, she got to be on top. At least at first. However, she barely got a chance to kiss her way to the Targaryen's neck, before the mighty Dragon was flipping her over, and pinning her down beneath her.