Spoiler Alert: This story defines gentle femdom as 'female domination without the elements of pain, punishment, or humiliation.' It is recommended that the reader make sure this is what they are in the mood for before proceeding.
The sound made by dozens of metal legged chairs sliding across a hardwood floor is a signature of academia. Sure it can be found in other places but it's most common at the end of a college class. It's an audible signal to end a learning period. I'd not been teaching long, but it was a sound I'd come to enjoy.
There were lots of things about my new life I enjoyed. After spending my twenties running the fun but chaotic race of big city life I'd decided it was time for a change. Over the summer, I got a job teaching math at a medium-sized university in a small city upstate. I bought a house that was walking distance from the campus and settled into a more mature lifestyle.
I taught lower-level math courses. The 101 stuff that students had to take as part of their core curriculum or was a prerequisite for their course of study. I had three Monday, Wednesday, Friday classes, and two Tuesday, Thursday classes. Each class had about twenty freshmen or sophomores in it. I found learning everyone's name and remembering their face was the most challenging part of the job.
Pam was one of the students whose name I did learn. She was petite with short brown hair and wore black cat-eye glasses. She always dressed in baggy, comfortable college girl clothes that made it impossible to distinguish her body shape. When in class she would blend in like camouflage. The truth was I recognized her personality more than her appearance.
A few weeks into the semester Pam made it a habit to ask a one-on-one question after every class. They were good questions and she always understood my explanation. I found her to be polite, well-spoken, and more mature than the rest of her classmates.
After a Tuesday class in early October, we were reviewing the approach to a set of extra-credit problems. We'd finished when she asked, "Are you of House Mormont?"
Her question seemed completely random and out of context with the situation. Yet the mention of one of my favorite elements from my favorite fictional universe immediately caught my attention.
"Your coffee cup. It's the sigil of House Mormont right?" she asked pointing to the green mug with a drawing of a black bear inside the outline of a shield.
She was correct, the cup was the symbol of a family of characters from the Song of Ice and Fire book series. The same series that was later popularized by the Game of Thrones television show.
I smiled, "Yes it is. You must be a fan. No one's ever recognized it before."
Pam grinned back, "I discovered the TV show in high school, then decided to read all of the books."
"Well, I discovered the books in high school. The show didn't start until I was finishing my masters."
"Wow, you're an original fan. Where did you get the cup? I've never seen one like that?"
"I got this one at the San Diego Comic-Con in 2015. The show was huge back then and there were lots of vendors selling cool stuff."
"That must've been a great time," she replied.
We spent the next few minutes talking about the TV show and book series before she had to get to her next class. In the following weeks, Pam continued to stop after my lectures to ask questions. They were always about the workload. Never again did she bring up our common fandom.
At the end of the month came Halloween. It was my first as a homeowner. I decided to make the best of the opportunity by dressing up and handing out candy. I pulled out a Jorah Mormont costume I'd worn to a couple of Game of Thrones events. It consisted of a dyed yellow shirt, a brown leather kilt, and a pair of black pants. I accessorized that with a turquoise scarf, a decorative brooch, a leather belt, and brown wraps around my hands and upper arms. A replica longsword in a leather sheath pulled it all together. I looked as rugged, refined, and wise as the character.
It was a nice night so I stayed on the front porch rather than opening the door every few minutes. This also allowed me to be more festive. Some of the parents and older trick-or-treaters even recognized my costume. The whole experience was enjoyable and I remember feeling good about my decision to leave the hectic pace of big city living.
I saw a wide variety of trick-or-treaters. The first several waves were children dressed as pirates, nurses, magicians, and superheroes. After that came the high school kids. There were a lot of zombies and vampires in that group. The last wave was university students. I guessed they were mostly freshmen who didn't want to give up traditions or hadn't discovered the seasonal frat parties yet. These costumes were thrown together and very adult-themed. Packs of sexy rocker chic's, toga-wearing Romans, and scantily clad witches all came looking for treats.
The parade of costumes began to slow down at about 8 pm. In the next half an hour, only three more college kids come by. I figured that was the last of them so I went inside and grabbed a beer. About ten minutes later the doorbell rang. I was reaching for the candy bowl as I opened the front door. Before I had a chance to see my visitor I heard a female voice say, "Trick-Or-Treat!"
Standing on my porch was an amazing looking woman in an immaculate Daenerys Targaryen costume. Daenerys is one of the central protagonists in the Game of Thrones storyline. My Jorah Mormont character was originally sent to spy on her but soon became one of her most devoted followers. Eventually, he develops feelings for her that you don't know if she completely reciprocates. It's one of my favorite storylines in the books and the shows actors did an amazing job capturing the sexual tension on screen.
The woman mixed a wry smile with an expression of fun before saying in character, "Ser Jorah, First Knight of my Queensguard, how are you on this lovely evening?"
I had to shake the amazement out of my head to respond in character, "I'm well Khaleesi, what brings you to my house?"
The woman started giggling, "Um candy?"
I laughed in response knowing there was no Westeros equivalent to trick-or-treating and the very cute way she broke character.
I couldn't get over how incredible she looked. She wore Daenerys' breaker of chains outfit. This was a deep blue tunic over brown leggings, with a flap that tied to hide the divide. She also wore heeled leather boots and a cape that matched the blue of the tunic. She accessorized with silver rings on each hand and an exquisite platinum blonde wig. This wasn't someone wearing a Halloween costume, this was a fictional character brought to life.
The woman in the costume was also amazing. She didn't look like the actress Emilia Clarke from the TV show but had many features of a Targaryen woman. She stood statuesque and had a pale, unblemished complexion. Her frame was slender with a flat belly and small hips. Her breasts were the perfect size for her torso creating amazing accenting curves. She didn't have the purple eyes as described in the books, however, they were a deep brown that went perfectly with her outfit.
"Happy Halloween," I said. "Your costume is simply awesome."
"Thanks, yours too. I haven't seen many Jorah Mormont costumes."
"Well, I've seen a lot of Daenerys Targaryen costumes, and none measure up to yours."
She blushed a little, "Thank You. I bet you're a fan of the show?"
