"There is no need to hide it, Your Grace," she murmured, the warmth in her voice sending a different kind of heat through his veins. "I know of the… intimacies between you. Arya told me herself. And I find I am grateful it was you. I have feared for that girl all her life—so wild, so willful. But you took her hand, gave her purpose… and now she's safe. You are the best thing that could have come to her."
Joffrey's cock twitched at that. Seven hells! This makes tonight far easier to steer.
"I… I swear on my honor that I will never mistreat Arya. I cherish her company."
Catelyn's smirk was knowing. Slow, lustful. The way a woman smirked when she held a little sway in her hands; only to relinquish it willingly. She tilted her head forward, letting her warm breath ghost over his swollen cockhead before extending her tongue.
She licked him. Long, slow, savoring.
She let his precum coat her lips like a sheen of gloss before licking again, this time softer, more teasing.
"Of that, I've heard plenty, Your Grace," she mewled as she traced the slit of his cock with the tip of her tongue. "She truly feels… cherished."
Joffrey groaned, his fingers threading into her thick red locks. I love being the King!
Creak!
"MOTHER?!"
Catelyn's head snapped toward the door, her brow creased in alarm, shame freezing her in place. She couldn't even sit up, Joffrey was still straddling her, his cock nestled between her bare, heaving tits.
"S-Sansa!"
Sansa stood in the doorway, her expression twisted with betrayal. But she didn't storm away. She stepped inside, shutting the door behind her with a sharp snap.
Her feet carried her to the bedside, her wide eyes drinking in the sight before her. Joffrey, sitting proudly atop Catelyn's body, her flushed, spread thighs lying bare behind his hips, the glistening evidence of their sin still trickling between them.
Sansa's lips parted, a breath caught in her throat. For a moment, it wasn't anger that filled her gaze but envy. Then her eyes locked onto Catelyn's, shimmering with unshed tears.
"Mother… H-how could you?!"
Heat surged up Catelyn's neck, blooming across her cheeks as she looked away, shame sinking its claws deep. Beneath her, she felt Joffrey's cock twitch against her breastbone. "I just… I just wanted some…"
"Why didn't you tell me?!" Sansa burst loud, tears in her eyes. "Since when?"
Oh, blessed Maiden, you have truly gifted this girl with everything. First the beauty and now this perfect talent. Joffrey watched, marveling at Sansa's acting skills.
He had prepared her well for this moment, instructing her on every word, every expression. Years of taming, breeding, fucking, loving, intimidating, and persuasion had carved Sansa into his perfect northern bride.
Catelyn's face went stark white, but she didn't move to cover herself.
"Your Grace… my love." Sansa looked up at Joffrey. "Can I join? You haven't laid with me in weeks."
Joffrey smirked. She played her part so well.
"Forgive me, Sansa. Come, join us."
"What?!" Catelyn gasped, her body jolting beneath him. But there was no resistance, no real protest, only shock.
Joffrey looked down at Catelyn's face, a smirk playing on his lips as he rocked his hips again, sliding his slick cock between the hot, cloud-like embrace of her bosom. His rhythm increased, his swollen cockhead popping up near her chin with each thrust, glistening with a mix of her saliva and his own need.
Catelyn panted, spurred on by his heat. Her lips were swollen from suckling him, and she obediently wrapped them around his tip once more. She flicked her tongue across the sensitive ridge, eyes fluttering shut as if savoring the taste of him.
"I don't think there's a need to hold back now, Cat." Joffrey smoothed a hand over her flushed cheek, watching the shame flicker in her eyes. Shame, but no hesitation.
"Both of you are important to me. I can't neglect Sansa and break her heart." He turned his gaze to his beautiful wife in all but name.
Sansa had bloomed under his hands, her once-slender form now rich with the curves of a woman well-fed, well-fucked, and well-bred. Her breasts sat full and round, her hips flared just enough to be truly enticing. But still, nowhere near Catelyn's motherly ripeness, but delicious in their own way. If Catelyn was a regal, mature beauty, Sansa was a fairy with her striking red hair and glowing skin.
Gods, I really do have a weakness for redheads.
"Sansa, why don't you come and let me have a taste of you?"
Sansa bit her lip, eager yet teasing, and shed the last of her garments. She was breathtaking, standing before them in nothing but her bare, supple skin, her curves accentuated by the flickering candlelight.
She climbed onto the bed, standing to her full height. She positioned herself so that one foot was planted on each side of Catelyn's head, all the while she faced Joffrey.
"H-here, Your Grace."
She spread her slick, glistening pussy lips apart with her own slender fingers.
Joffrey wasted no time. He wrapped his arms around her hips and buried his mouth into her dripping slit, his tongue spearing in and lathering her soaked, known walls. He groaned into her, his fingers digging into her hips to keep her steady as he worked her over with expert flicks and deep strokes of his boneless flesh.
Below, Catelyn continued to pleasure him, her warm mouth sealing over his tip while his cock slid through the valley smushed together with her own hands. She could take in the scent of Sansa's arousal so close above her, the intoxicating scent of another woman's lust filling her senses.
She glanced up. Sansa's puffy, pink slit showed the faintest signs of childbirth, but it remained a succulent, untouched flower, so perfectly Stark.
Sansa's moans became louder, more desperate, her thighs trembling as she rocked against Joffrey's mouth, still standing, needing more. "Yes… Yes—Please, more, my King. Don't stop, don't stop…"
Her fingers pinched her own nipples, tugging them between her fingers as her climax rushed over her. The moment she came, her body locked up, quivering nonstop. Her honeyed juices spilled onto Joffrey's face, some of it trickling down, landing in warm little droplets across Catelyn's heaving breasts.
"Ghhh…" Joffrey groaned, the rawness of the moment making his cock throb violently. He was close, so damn close; but he refused to waste such a precious load. He'd taken the necessary medicine to last for hours, and he'd be damned if he spilled a single drop anywhere but inside a tight, greedy cunt.
Panting, he pulled back from Catelyn's tits and sat between her legs, his cock still twitching, aching for the next round. Sansa collapsed to her knees beside Catelyn's head, her breath shaky, her lips parted from the full-body clench of her orgasm.
Then—
Creak!
The door creaked open once more.
"W-What the hell!"
Finally! The third one arrives! Joffrey looked towards the door, hiding his smirk. Your turn to work, Sansa.
All heads snapped toward the entrance. Arya stood frozen, her loose tunic hanging over her toned frame, her breeches fitting tightly to her legs. The needle-like sword at her waist gleamed in the dim light, a reminder that she had been nowhere near the depraved world unfolding before her. A deep, confused frown marred her sharp features.
Catelyn stiffened, her body turning rigid with shame. She wanted to close her eyes, to disappear into nothingness. She tried to push herself up, instinct screaming at her to cover herself.
But before she could move, Sansa beat her to it, launching off the bed, her bare body moving quickly. The redhead glided forward and shut the door behind Arya, sealing them all in. Giddy, her bright red hair bouncing as she spun toward Arya with a mischievous grin.
"Arya…" she purred, eyes gleaming. "Help us. He's too much to handle!"
"Have you lost your mind?" Arya recoiled slightly, her hands clenching at her sides, staring at her elder sister as if she were utterly mad.
Sansa only giggled in response.
Before Arya could retreat, Sansa moved behind her, wrapping her arms around her tight waist, and pressing close. Arya's body went rigid; she could feel Sansa's bare breasts flattening against her back, her breath warm against her ear.
"Come on…" Sansa whispered, her fingers trailing over Arya's abdomen, skimming the rough fabric of her tunic. "It's not our first time."
Arya swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling with each breath.
But Sansa didn't give her a moment to think. She tugged at Arya's tunic, lifting the fabric higher and higher. Arya stood frozen, her pulse hammering as the cold air kissed her stomach… then her ribs… then…
A sharp gasp left her lips.
The tunic was gone.
Her perky, small breasts were exposed to the candlelit room, her pale, dusky nipples stiffening instantly. Instinct took over, her arms crossing over herself as if that could somehow undo the moment.
Sansa moved her arms, sliding them around her waist, warm and teasing. Her lips found Arya's ear, breath hot as she whispered, her fingers trailing lower above her belly.
"Look," Sansa purred, pointing toward the bed.
Joffrey had shifted, kneeling between Catelyn's legs, his cock planted in her cunt, her thighs spread wide around him shamelessly. His thick, royal cock was buried halfway into the older woman's stretched, bruised, and cum-slicked cunt, his grip firm on her under thighs as he held her, savoring the moment before claiming the rest of her.
Arya's breath hitched at the sight.
"It's soooo much more fun than just the two of us, Arya…" Sansa's voice dripped with temptation, her fingers grazing over Arya's stiff nipples before giving them a wicked pinch.
Arya gasped. Her body betrayed her, arching into Sansa's touch even as her mind screamed at her to regain control. But then Sansa's lips were on her neck, soft and hungry, kissing, sucking… persuading.
Arya's resolve was slipping, melting.
Joffrey exhaled a low, pleased hum as he finally thrust the rest of the way in. Catelyn gasped out a ragged moan, her mouth falling open, her body tensing before shuddering around his cock in sheer bliss.
But even in that moment, her eyes never left Arya.
Sansa took advantage of Arya's distraction. Nimble fingers moved lower, undoing the laces of her breeches, loosening the fabric until it fell in a heap at her ankles.
Joffrey looked up. He smirked.
Arya stood there naked, toned, battle-hardened, yet undeniably feminine, her body sculpted by years of wielding steel rather than serving at feasts. And yet, in that moment, she wasn't a warrior. She was his.
All three of them... his.
Sansa slid her hands down Arya's hips, trailing her fingers possessively over smooth skin. She leaned in, whispering one last time, her voice a sultry command.
"Don't think… let our King rule us… in everything."
[TO BE CONTINUED]
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THIS STORY HAS ENDED ON PATREON.
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Joffrey X Catelyn, Sansa, and Arya Breeding NSFW ART at [email protected]/MrPlotThickens Or Subscribestar.adult/mrplotthickens
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