Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Author's note: This story takes place after Season 8, but deviates from canon after that.
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Daenerys Targaryen had finally done it. She was now Queen Daenerys Targaryen. Undisputed Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. Well, the North still had some issue with this, but she had a bloodless solution to that she was very much looking forward to going through with. Something she really, truly hoped it would, given that she sacrificed over half of her Army, and two of her children in the name of not only conquering Westeros, but liberating it from those who slaughter it's people needlessly.
To do the same would be incredibly counterproductive, stupid, and worst of all, it would mean embracing everything she had fought so hard to stop herself from becoming. Although, maybe she would have accepted that fate, if she didn't still have people worth fighting for.
Like her beloved Missandei, Irri and especially Doreah. She had lost a lot of servants along the way, especially in the Battle for Winterfell, when she thought she was done for. That they all were. But through all hardships, these three had remained loyal and completely devoted to her. Admittedly, perhaps that was because of exactly what she did with them behind closed doors.
Like right now. Oh yes, today was a day of great celebration, her official coronation, a party which she had promised would go on until dawn, and she could certainly rely on the Dothraki and the North Men to do their part towards that. Although she had made it very clear if there were any... issues, they would answer directly to her, and her remaining Dragon.
To her credit, she stayed for longer than usual for these kinds of celebrations. She had to for the sake of morale, but she very much enjoyed herself, as did most of the members of her inner circle, like Jon Snow. But when maybe close to a third of the partygoers had made their excuses, or passed out, the Queen made an excuse of her own, namely that she wished to spend the rest of the night in the throne room, contemplating her victory, and what it cost.
It was the perfect lie, because there was truth to it. However, it was not the only reason that she was now finally where she belonged, sitting on the Iron Throne, literally surrounded by adoring subjects.
Once again proving she wasn't stupid, she had guards standing outside, just in case there were any who were stupidly loyal to the last regime, or simply remembered her father too vividly. More importantly, she had been accompanied by her three favourite servants, and once they were alone, they were all over her. Despite being the dominant one in the relationship Daenerys allowed her favourite girls to swiftly disrobe her, and predictably fight each other for the honour of kissing her.
Although this was far from the first time this had happened, and they were good, and made sure each one of them got a turn with her lips, while the other two kissed all over her body, something which became easier as they were quick to disrobe her, while removing their own clothing along the way.
Daenerys was now fulfilling another one of her dreams, this one also involving sitting on the Iron Throne. More accurately, she was sitting naked on the Iron Throne, being worshiped by three beautiful women. Sadly she highly doubted she was the first Ruler to do this exact thing. No doubt the usurper Robert Baratheon had indulged in this many times before, and it disgusted her that she was following his lead.
And it wasn't much better that her own family had indulged in it before him, mostly with each other. But despite all that, she just couldn't resist. Maybe especially because it was the woman simply known as Doreah, who was the first to have the honour of eating the pussy of Queen Daenerys Targaryen, while she sat on the Iron Throne.
Sweet Doreah had been with her since the beginning of her rise to power, and had taught her much about her body in the process. Without Doreah giving her confidence with her own sexuality, there was no doubt that Daenerys would have never made it this far. So she was only too happy to regularly reward her precious Doreah, who was her favourite even amongst her favourites.
Not that Missandei and Irri were completely left out, as they were on their knees at the side of the Iron Throne, kissing her feet, just as the favourite amongst them had in the beginning. However, it wasn't long before Doreah had kissed her way up the Queen's legs, and gave Daenerys what she truly wanted in that moment.
Namely, a long, slow lick to her cunt, the mighty Dragon Queen letting out her first loud happy cry of this session of fun with her girls. That kind of cry always seemed deafening in otherwise silent rooms, but this time it echoed around the obscenely large room, clearly designed to show off.
The timid little girl she used to be would have been embarrassed by such a thing, but the Mother of Dragons just grinned wickedly, and rewarded her sweet Doreah by reaching down and stroking her long brown hair. She petted it affectionately, reinforcing what this girl was to her. Oh yes, Doreah might be her favourite, but all three of these women were her playthings. Her pets. Her sex slaves.
Once again showing that she understood her place Doreah smiled against her cunt, and then repeated the initial lick, albeit a little bit quicker, and ignoring her Queen's clit. Which could be seen as a bad thing, but Daenerys knew it was necessary, if the act was to be done properly. There were occasions where she would order Doreah to rush, but this wasn't one of those times.
No, the Dragon Queen did not need to go anywhere, or do anything. All she needed to do was sit there on her rightful throne, and be worshiped by her favourite servants. Just as she had dreamed of doing so many times on the very long road to this wonderful moment.
Doreah had been sold into sexual slavery when she was very young where she had been taught a variety of ways to please men, and women. Ironically, pleasing women had only meant to be for the amusement of her Master, or to finish the job that he couldn't. Her old teachers could have never have imagined a woman being her owner, and certainly not in the position of power that Daenerys Targaryen had been able to claim for herself.