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Jon Snow's revenge against Theon Greyjoy (Edited 8-26-2017)


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I was watching Sunday’s Game of Thrones episode, which was beyond words amazing, and the scene between Theon and Jon Snow immediately triggered this situation in my mind.

If you haven’t watched Game of Thrones, (1) I’m sorry, and (2) spoilers – as in, major spoilers. Also, this is violent and involves rape – I don’t condone it, but it felt fitting. I guess I’m feeling a bit hypocritical.

I hope it’s mildly enjoyable.

 

***

 

Theon Greyjoy was surprised to see Jon Snow there on Dragonstone, given the humiliating defeat that his uncle, Euron, handed him at sea. He had reverted back to that weaker, smaller, defeated mindset — Reek — when he saw he was powerless against his uncle. Escaping the ship, he slowly snapped out of it. He had held himself together just enough to convince the other Iron-borne who saved him from the sea not to immediately kill him, but rather to return to Dragonstone to the queen, Daenerys Targaryan. There he can recouperate and snap out of this lowly, Reet state fully, and figure out how to stop his uncle.

What Theon had not anticipated was seeing Jon Snow, the bastard of his former lord when Theon was a ward to then king of the north, Ned Stark. Theon was raised with the Stark children and Jon Snow and knew them as brothers...which made his betrayal all the more painful. It had lead to the deaths of two of his "siblings" — Robb directly and Rickon indirectly — along with his lord's wife, Caitlin, when he tried to take over Winterfell, their home. His fall from power resulted in this...this...Reek...where he had his once proud monstrous cock cut off of his body, fully erect, at the hands of Ramsay Bolton, and subjected to daily, hourly, psychological assault and humiliation. He finally snapped out of it, but seeing Jon Snow is bringing all back.

Theon figured he should make the first introduction, to soften the blow. He felt the tension as he finished pulling his boat up onto the shore as Jon approached.

"Jon, I didn't know you were here."

Jon kept coming.

"Sansa...is she alright?"

Jon grabbed Theon...Reek...and pulled him up. God, he was always so strong.

"What you did for her...is the only reason why I'm not killing you," hissed Jon at Theon. He had to turn his head away, ashamed, knowing Jon was right.

He and Jon, along with Ser Davos, the Onion Knight, exchanged about Queen Daenarys and her help...but she was gone. Tired from the trip, Theon and his men moved around Jon Snow, the Dothraki guards, and Missandei up towards the castle. As one of the willing allies of Daenarys, Theon was provided one of the nicer rooms of the castle -- its views overlooked a large part of the sea that spread before the enclosure, receiving a nice breeze on those hot (yet not as hot as they used to be) afternoons. The bed was soft, with clean sheets, and it was quiet. He had grown used to the quiet since his...Reek...treatment. It was a nice change from the annoying chaos of sea battle.

There may have been some wine consumed...a little less food eaten...and Theon found himself on the bed, feeling a bit less than his usual self. A good night's sleep in a real bed should help him recover from the incidents of the last week. If his Reek conversion has taught him anything, it's that he's not iron borne.

...

A pounding on the door woke him up, similar to the pounding within Theon's skull. Whoever was on the other side of the door sounded angry, and probably was going to enter any second. Due to Daenarys's decree, he had no weapons within him, so he scrambled to find something to cover his partially naked body just as...Jon Snow entered. He was naked except for a loin cloth, revealing his chiseled body. He had grown so much since he and Theon were boys at Winterfell. Before Theon was a man: a thick, bold chest, sprinkled with hair to make the veins that cris-crossed over them seem hidden; eight bold, brick-like abs stacked atop each other in perfect symmetry; flaring obliques and lats that pointed towards a deep-cut V atop his under garments. His shoulders seemed smaller when he was dressed on the beach: each deltoid stood out over vascular, muscular, rippling arms. His legs, pale as his bastard name implied, were pale white, but covered with similar vasculature worthy of his toned body.

His eyes, however, suggested revenge. Theon — no, Reek, that pathetic excuse for humanity — had fucked over Jon's family. His sister was raped, and two brothers dead, because of that Reek piece of shit. Jon desired to beat the fuck out of him, but decided he could do one better. He had heard Theo—Reek had lost his prized manhood, but he hadn't been properly treated by a man. Reek's sister, Yara, gladly and proudly slept with other women.

It was time Reek learned what a real man would do to him.

...

Jon normally achieved arousal from beautiful women, or at least he did before his (short lived) death. Now his only sense of erection, arousal, manhood, was seeing his family's enemies destroyed. The death of Ramsay Bolton brought hours of masturbation, where he filled cups with his cum. He found Ramsey's partially eaten body and poured his seed all over the corpse...which brought the dogs back to continue feasting.

After that night, his manhood felt even more powerful, longer, harder, stronger, with his testicles filled with even more white cream seed.

He had dreamt of being able to destroy another enemy of his family, like the Lannisters, but Reek presented before him was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Jon's manhood started to thicken, engorging on the warm blood that fueled his anger for Reek. The undergarments started to stretch with his thickening cock, tearing noises started to become quite audible before the horror-struck Reek, fully aware of what was probably going to happen to him. Jon closed his eyes, smiling as he felt his cock stretch longer and thicken more as his knew revenge would be his. A cold snap hit the throbbing and dropping head of his penis—he had broken free, nearly the size of his fist—and his eyes now turned to Reek.

Swiftly, like his beloved direwolf, Ghost, Jon pounced upon a helpless Reek, grasping him by the throat and lifting him into the air above his bed.

"You fucked my family. You killed my brothers. You let my sister be raped by a piece of filth. I am not allowed to kill you, but I will fuck the revenge into you, Reek. You will reek of nothing but piss, shit and cum when I'm done...and everyone will now the filth you truly are."

Jon’s true manhood stood out before him – at least the thickness of his wrist, if not his forearms, covered in veins, the length of a good sized chicken – he was a sight to behold. The head was dripping its clear, sweet lubricant, knowing that it would get to make another vessel filled and overflow. Reek screamed, knowing that whatever masculinity he still possessed was going to be ripped into him by such a massive, throbbing member. Secretly Reek wished he still had his once prodigious, although not nearly as impressive, member to grip in secret excitement.

As the massive cock head pushed into Reek’s virgin asshole, the screams would be heard throughout the castle. Later it was said that the Onion Knight thought ghosts were again invading, having heard of Melisandre’s smoke baby killing Renly Baratheon. Jon’s eyes did not waver as each portion of his cock – his monster – pushed further into Reek, being pulled out gently and shoved in harder each time. The large balls, still remaining on Reek’s pathetic body, next to the stump that once could deliver the future of the Greyjoy line, bounced as Jon pushed more and more into Reek.

Inhuman strength possessed Jon: his arms seemed to swell in size as he continued to push his python into and out of Reek’s pathetic body. Jon would lift Reek off his monster, feeling the cold breeze pass over each length of his swollen penis, and then immediately feel the warmth of Reek’s pathetic body, even more useless than the undergarments that were destroyed earlier, cover him with warmth. Each lifting of Reek’s body felt easier—Jon looked down, noticing that his once respectable pecs were swelling like a woman’s breast after childbirth. They were thick, covered with more veins and hair, feeling harder and more indominatible than before. His arms – biceps, deltoids, forearms – grew with each lift and trust of his mighty body. His waist grew tighter with the workout, pushing this pathetic shit of a boy onto his kingly cock over and over.

Finally, after five minutes of Jon’s silence while Reek squealed like a pig, Jon had pushed the entirety of himself into Reek, and whispered “you’re mine, you piece of shit.”

The swollen balls, haven also grown in size with his cock and muscles, pulled up as he unleashed pulse after pulse of his cum into Reek’s swollen, bleeding ass. Jon could feel his thick, white seed pouring down over his over thickening dick, dripping onto Reek’s bed. Reek had started to convulse as he was being filled with amazing amounts of cum, enough to where Jon lifted him off his cock and let him fall onto the bed. The convulsions continued while stream after stream of thick man seed poured out of the colossal cock onto Reek’s pathetic body, coating his chest and face.

After a few minutes, the stream of cum slowed down and the convulsions stopped. Reek, covered in cum, started to speak when Jon immediately shoved the monster cock into his mouth, gripping his throat as though he meant to crush his windpipe. Jon’s cock had softened, but felt just as large in his pathetic mouth as it did up his bleeding asshole.

“You don’t speak to me. I own you. That was payment for being in the presence of my brother Robb. You still owe me for Bran, Rickon, Aryia, Sansa…and then we start to talk about their troubles, deaths, and their grief due to you.”

Jon’s eyes turned even darker, with his muscles swelling up even more, as his cock started to engorge in Reek’s mouth. The last memory Reek had, before blacking out, was the feeling that a rod, harder than Valyrian steel, was cracking his jaw open.

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giphy.gif

Bravo!!! 

Now you made me think a sweet version of this one but with Sam.  Their friendship is awesome. It would be cool to read about them when they see each other again

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Hmmmm... I wish I could see what a super strong Jon could do to the Realm... Think of a dragon breathing fire onto him, only to singe his clothes, without hurting in the least his godly body! He could just grab a dragon's throat in his fist and crush it like wet balsa wood.

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I thought of a continuation. Hope it lives up to what some wanted.

---

Jon had some, well, pent up aggression towards this Reek. It was a little messy, when his cock grew so thick that Reek’s jaw cracked – the teeth didn’t hold up so well and were snapping out of their sockets – and Jon took that as an assault on himself and his family. He could feel his anger and frustration…along with this strange sensation of channeling giant beasts of the past…into his body swelling up more by more.

Perhaps he should have wondered if death was going to happen when it appeared like Reek’s lips were being stretched and perhaps starting to tear. His cock was so thick – at least as large as the palm of his hand in thickness – and rather than focusing on pain, Jon felt himself pushing himself into Reek. His cock seemed to know what he was thinking, and it pushed further and further into his mouth and forcing itself into Reek’s throat. He felt the tip pushing through the esophagus, reflexively wanting to force this ever growing snake out. Reek’s muscles, as they were, closed in on the cock, but they were no match. Jon’s python kept pushing further and further into the throat, expanding, ripping lips, snapping more teeth out of place, and pushing further into Reek.

Reek’s face was starting to turn slightly off – how long had he been pushing into him? – but Jon still felt a pulse pushing against his cock, so Reek wasn’t dead yet. Jon kept on growing into him.

The monstrous tip felt some resistance at last – it was as though he reached the end of the throat. From days hunting with his father, Jon knew that this was the stomach. It was usually filled with bile, and it burned when it poured out. Reek’s heart, positioned just in front of the throat, tried feebly to push against the monstrous limb that was skewering its owner…and Jon felt every pathetic push.

It felt so good and powerful…Jon urged his cock to continue. As his beast pushed into the stomach, teeth snapped out of the jaw and blood was pouring from the corners of Reek’s mouth. It was so much wider than his palm now; he wondered how it would look from the side, pushed through Reek’s pathetic skull, neck and chest… Stomach bile started to flood around the head – however big it was now – and as much as it burned, Jon felt a coolness wash over himself. It was as though he was resistant to such dangerous liquid.

But…Reek’s face was starting to look pretty bad, color wise, and Jon could feel the pulse drop. Eh, the fucker didn’t deserve to die yet. He wasn’t fond of fucking a corpse…although his anger probably could get him to fuck Reek dead.

Standing straight up – and up – and up – had he grown in height? Had he not noticed? All sensation seemed focused on this cock, the size of his forearm, that he didn’t notice his musculature and physical status change. No matter.

He grabbed the sides of Reek’s skull, and started to pull out. Reek had passed out due to the pain, or pleasure, of what was happening to him, so Jon manhandled his body to pull this human cock sleeve off. Eventually he had to stand on the ground and pull the mighty cock all the way out by walking backwards – how big was he? The thick head got caught on teeth, since the sides of the tip were wider than the cock itself, and with a tug ripped the remaining teeth in the way out of Reek’s pathetic skull. The dick, somewhat soft, slapped his knees that probably would have bruised a normal man. It was thicker than his wrists and ankles, covered with veins the thickness of his fingers. Its incredible length arched out near the root, because what Jon just started to notice was his balls and grown to impossible dimensions – easily each was the size of two of his rather large fists.

Blood, saliva and thick precum covered Reek’s face as he spontaneously started to gasp for air – his throat hadn’t been used for breathing for at least a minute or two – and color returned. He hadn’t woken up yet, and Jon did not think that Reek could survive if he grew one more time inside of him. His pathetic body almost made Jon feel as though Reek did not deserve everything that had happened to him.

Feeling his chest, he felt where he was stabbed by the Night’s Watch. He remembered his death and resurrection. Jon had flashbacks to the same feeling when he heard that Robb was killed. Seeing Rickon dying in front of him due to that fucker Ramsay Bolton…who got his power because of fucking Reek.

Anger came back.

The somewhat sleeping python started to wiggle near his knees and spit out his thick, dripping saliva all over the floor. Jon’s cock thickened once more, and he wanted to feel it. He could barely get two hands around the thickness of it, and as it swelled with more hot blood, Jon’s hands slowly were pushed apart. So much blood was rushing to the cock, he was feeling light headed.

But no. He can’t pass out. He must continue punishing Reek. His lightheadedness was overcome with swelling. A warm – no, burning, swelling. His hands got bigger. His forearms became hams. His biceps – oh, fuck, his biceps – easily the size of cannonballs. His chest was protruding so far over his abs that he would need to look to the sides to see what was beneath him. But, growing and growing, reaching his nipples, then his chin, then his eyes, was his man-destroying cock. The head felt as though it was as wide as his own skull. This would have blown Reek in half. Precum oozed out of the slit, pouring like thick, sweet, clear wine down his hands, cock and puddling on the floor.

He started to stroke the monster. Jon’s calloused hands tried to harm the impossible skin of this looming python. Length after length, his felt the weight of his cock pulling itself to the ground below, his abs and his biceps struggling to pull it up while stroking. Stroking. Stroking.

That swelling sensation started to hit his balls. Jon knew that it was only a stroke or two away from unleashing whatever amount of cum he had been brewing for the past hour since his last cum blast inside of Reek. His arms started to shake as he continued to stroke, up and down, up and down. More friction. More precum. More shaking. More anger. More frustration. More fire.

Jon fell to his knees, cracking the stone below, grabbing his cock, aimed at Reek’s bed, and roared as he felt pulse after pulse travel from his massive balls, resting on the stone, into his core and out his monster. The first blast actually made a sound as his penis slit burst open due to the force of the ejaculation. It hit Reek’s bed, and pushed it away. The second blast hit Reek in the side, knocking him over to the edge of the bed. The third, fourth and fifth blasts hit the stands and broke the bed down, spilling a still unconscious Reek upon the floor. Blasts six through twelve further disintegrated the bed. So much cum was within the room that it had started to cover the entire floorspace and was filling like a bath – impressive, given the size of the room.

Pulse after pulse traveled from balls to cock, filing the room with hot, as in scalding hot, cum. Burns started to appear on Reek’s arms and legs – his face was aimed up. He was turning red from the cum’s temperature. Blast after blast continued, nearly covering his broken mouth and nostrils with cum as the room filled ever so slowly. Jon figured he shouldn’t let passed-out Reek drown in his cum – that would be to kind a death – so he picked him up as his cock continued to push more cum into the room.

Perhaps this counted as payment for what Reek did to Sansa – not seeking to help his sister. Payment was still needed for the rest of the Starks.

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Thanks for this, really. 

There are so many ways you can go now. Jon with this body going intoa orgy with the Dothraki, figthing their strongest and then fucking him. Jon agains a Jaime who is De's prisioner (i dont believe he is dead) and Jon avenging what happened to Brann.

So many thinks. 

This was a great addtion, my man

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So, this is a turn for the darker (reminiscent of the Khali series). Hope y'all like it. Thanks for the positive feedback, written or otherwise; it's nice for the ego.

---

There was a very loud pounding at the door, which somewhat startled Jon. That helped snap him out of the rage-filled sex revenge that he had been unleashing upon Reek, where he had odd sensations of ancient beasts that filled his body. He felt a fire, as though he had power like those amazing dragons he saw filing around Dragon stone…but also the slow, methodical, stealthy strength of dire wolves and other “monsters” that inhabit the northern parts of Westeros. It was an odd sensation, one that he had most assuredly never experienced before, until meeting Taenarys and seeing Reek again.

He had partially dropped Reek, but his legs ended up dipping a foot-length into the cum bath filling the room. Reek’s foot immediately looked as though it had been in the summer’s sun for an entire day.

Looking down, it made Jon realize that he needed to look up…at his stature. He stood at least to the height of the door – perhaps his eyes looked down upon the top of the door. By the gods he had destroyed this room. His soft penis, still thicker than his now monstrous hand, arched out at least one outstretched hand in front of his eight thick, bold, insanely deep abs and was nearly touching the top of his knees. Slowly Jon reached under his cock to feel two testicles, each he could partially palm in his hand (although the thick, coarse black hair aided in holding them; the cum still plastered to his body made the task trickier).

All Jon was left with doing was grabbing his manhood, as his chest had enlarged so much that it extended well over the length of his hand in front of his body. A quick feel verified that his nipples, pointing straight down, were placed on two massive granite boulders of muscle…but he was now covered with so much thick, northern black hair, made slick with the cum splashing, that Jon figured he probably looked like he wore a massive breastplate of dragon glass. A thin trail of hair connected his massive chest and crotch, as he saw in a reflection of one of the windows remaining in the room, that made him resemble one of those giants he fought against North of the Wall.

More pounding at the door…but Jon needed to examine what he had become a bit more. Whoever it was, they could wait. There was some shouting, but he was too caught up in admiring and becoming terrified of his own physique to care right now.

He did walk near the door, however, to judge his thickness. Placing the left shoulder on the edge of the door, his right nipple pushed against the right side of the door…this might make for some interesting maneuvering necessary to recover the dragon glass from the caves that held it on the island. Maybe if he allowed Reek to live he will fetch the dragon glass? Jon snickered at the idea, bringing his inhuman left arm up to admire it. His left deltoid bunched up upon the contraction so high that the peak of the shoulder muscle reached his eyes; flexing his arm revealed a biceps that probably could rival the strength of a Northern giant…or the entire Night’s Watch… The muscle split down the middle, revealing a chasm thick and deep enough that a…well, much lesser man’s cock could easily fit into, should the veins that snaked over the surface not interfere.

With his right hand, Jon lifted up the barely functioning corpse of Reek – yeah, he was breathing and the bleeding had stopped – to place Reek’s thigh next to John’s forearm. That wasn’t fair. Jon’s forearm was practically the size of this twig’s thigh, with far more muscle rippling through what should have been a much smaller body part. Jon’s hand could practically wrap, thumb to finger, around one of Reek’s feet. He could crush him, literally crush him, with a squeeze. His right arm, barely noticing that he held a man up with it, had his hand clamped onto the ribs and one gentle squeeze could crush him. This brought a smile to Jon’s face.

More. Fucking. Pounding.

More. Fucking. Yelling.

To this, Jon was now getting pissed off. The dragon…the wolf…Jon…had his prey and was playing with it, and now some other lesser beings were trying to interfere? This was not going to happen. He felt a bit of rage come back into his body…that cold fire spreading, in part from his heart where he was stabbed, and also from his groin.

With one swift motion, Jon grabbed the door with his left hand and ripped it off, tossing it into the moat of cum in the room. He heard a singe when it hit – he forgot that his cum had massive amounts of heat coming off of it. Once opened, the heat poured out of the room onto the two thick, tall, dark and muscled Dothraki guards who remained behind at Dragon stone to protect…well, Jon didn’t know why. He knew that Missandei had some unsullied with her, but they were not at Jon’s door. Reek’s door. This door.

Jon needed to step back in order to actually see the Dothraki, so high were his eyes and so, how amusing to think it, small the Dothraki were. Normal men should fear the Dothraki…armies should fear a few of them. Even Jon Snow, the bastard of Ned Stark, had heard of them. But now? Now they were ants that seemed like they wanted to bite him, hoping their pathetic attempts would hurt him.

None was going to hurt him. Not any more.

He moved slightly to see them better, which both Dothraki took as a threat. They were shouting something – Jon hadn’t the slightest clue what it was, but he was going to move out of the room and somewhere else. He was going to take Reek with him, too.

Clearly the intention to move was not what the Dothraki wanted, as both immediately drew their swords – why were they allowed to have swords? – and held them menacingly at Jon. Although he wasn’t sure, he felt like he could take a few hits from those blades…like his skin was tough as a dragon. The mere though of such power caused a pulse down his monstrous limp dick, awaking the monster once again from its slumber. One of the Dothraki, not noticing the motion was from a cock and not some python this white northerner wore around his waist, lunged with the sword at Jon’s chest. In an awesome display of grace, Jon twisted to avoid the thrust, grabbed the blade with his hand, and snapped it in two. The portion of the blade held against his hand should have partially severed his fingers, but nothing happened. Jon and the Dothraki came to this realization at the same time. The other stood his ground and dared not move.

With a smile, Jon placed Reek somewhat gently on the ground and turned back to these two ants. The Dothraki who first charged, now with a broken sword, charged again while the second charged with the sword swinging. Missing the broken sword thrusts, Jon amused himself by avoiding their every advance. It was though their time had slowed down, and he could see everything they were going to do. More blood flooded into his cock. The broken sword one had a lucky move and shoved the broken end of the sword onto the now massively long cock – and nothing happened. It stopped Jon and the two ants – realizing their weapons were useless, Jon quickly struck to crush the sword hands of both Dothraki – their bones snapping and becoming dust within their skin echoed throughout the hallway as Jon became even more excited. He pinned both against the far wall with his hands, which basically covered his chest.

A very cruel thought passed through his mind. He smiled and both Dothraki immediately started to squirm. The first ant, the one who was so stupid as to charge this monster, was pinned against the wall; Jon lowered the second until his cock reached the Dothraki’s face. A sinister look covered Jon’s eyes, and he felt the cold warmth spread from his groin towards the cock head. It pushed out further, touching the lips of the unwilling Dothraki, his eyes wide and aware of the coming assault. The cock surged forward, forcing open the lips, and then the teeth, and then the mouth. The more blood engorged the monster, the louder and higher the screams of the Dothraki became.

Knowing his right arm could be spared, Jon let go and the muscle bound savage was pinned helplessly against the wall by the largest cock ever found on Westeros.

“I have heard of your kind, and I was told by my father I should fear you. Funny, I didn’t realize it was because you were so bad at sucking a man’s cock,” Jon smirked. He didn’t care if the ant understood him or not.

Raising his right arm, Jon showed off of the power of his biceps, peaking larger than before. The warmth spread to all parts of his body, and he felt his legs pushing apart. His head rising higher. His arms lengthening. His muscles becoming more inhuman. The pathetic ant’s screams became even more severe as the entire head of his cock forced itself into the Dothraki’s skull. Thrilled with the sight, Jon squeezed his cock, feeling it swell even more – dislocating the jaw of the Dothraki.

No more screaming.

“I am bored of you, so I will let you die quickly.”

With one thrust, Jon drove his cock through the back of the Dothraki skull, immediately stopping the ant’s pain, and shoving it through four layers of ancient, thick stone. With one swift pullback contraction of his mighty abs, his cock ripped itself out of the wall, throwing stones everywhere, consequentially removing the head of the Dothraki, leaving the last few hand length’s of his dick covered in blood and brain.

“Ha. I heard your people like to decapitate the losers. So what shall I do with you?” Jon pondered, as he turned his still expanding body, with his skin marbeling in red and white, fire and ice, hot and cold, and his cock the size of a child towards the more aggressive Dothraki ant, still pinned against the wall.

The Dothraki shit himself. Jon smiled.

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Instead of working, I wrote this. The perspective changed, so hope it works. Yeah, I didn't realize I had a violent streak in me like this...

---

All the Dothraki soldier knew was this…beast? god? white sorcerer man who grew? beast man, or rhoa mahrazh?...was that small, albeit muscular, pale man who came to see the Khaleesi and ask for permission to do something on the island. He had known that Khaleesi was the Mother of Dragons – he recalled seeing the burning of Khal Drogo and her emergence, unscathed, with the three young dragon hatchlings. Nothing like that had ever been seen before by the Dothraki. But this man had come to her, and did not show her the respect she deserved…yet, here he was now, three or four times the man he once was…

Through his training, the Dothraki know two things: they were to be the most powerful around, or they would die. They were trained to fear no one or no thing. Although he saw this mountain of a man before him should bring fear…and he did…the soldier knew that he should fight and win instead of being conquered. That was why he fought against this beast, twice, just to be thwarted both times. Being bested so easily made him very uneasy, and seeing what this monster did with his cock to his fellow Dothraki, he knew that his death was coming for him. He will shortly be joining the mighty khalassar, hopefully to ride through the skies throughout the rest of eternity.

The rhoa mahrazh before him closed his eyes, as though he was focusing on, well, something…although it was hard to say, this western common tongue was so rough and used too many words to express the simplest of thought. The Dothraki noticed that the large penis, which was the height of the his own legs, had started to shrink – he was not as excited as he once was? What sort of man loses his excitement after killing another man, especially when the victory was so one sided? This was just a strange thing to witness.

Slowly the rhoa mahrazh opened his eyes, looking down upon the Dothraki. They were dark, cold, and full of anger…yet, a fiery anger. He had seen such fire in the eyes of the Khaleesi before she would unleash her fury upon a group of men who deserved death. The pale skin of the beast started to become various colors, like a mixing of horses in the khalassar, reds like the blood of slain men and white like the sands upon which the Dothraki rode. The man’s gaze started to look further and further down upon him—was he sliding down the wall? No. He could not feel his back moving, even though the giant paw of the man kept pushing against his mighty chest…the chest he once thought was mighty….

No, the rhoa mahrazh was growing – again! Due to the silence of the hall, the Dothraki could hear the muscles tearing and forming, the skin stretching, the bones popping and reforming, as he became even more of a beast of ancient story. The muscles grew into grotesque displays of raw power, covering themselves with sinew and pulsed with power. Even though his feet were slightly off the floor, the Dothraki found himself staring even with the nipples of this rhoa mahrazh, which of which was the size of his flaccid penis…

…oh, gods, the Dothraki’s penis was starting to lust for this beast. It was forbidden to lay with another man, let alone to think thoughts of sex about another, but clearly what stood before him was no man. The Dothraki’s ample cock – he had pleased many women and impregnated many more who initially fought against his power – had pushed his loincloth out of the way, showing his power and might towards the knee of the monster.

The monster looked down further, noticing the tiny cock, and smiled.

“So, that’s the way you want to go? I’ll let you die that way, since I am generous.”

The Dothraki didn’t understand those words, but the deep, reverberating voice made his cock pulse even more, spilling precum out and down his long, thick cock. The rhoa mahrazh stepped over the Dothraki, both hands holding him like a toy, and allowed the Dothraki’s monster…well, in comparison, child’s toy…cock up near the monster’s ass. The Dothraki’s cock was pulsing, swelling and changing colors due to the pleasure that it knew it was soon to enjoy. The soldier himself was sweating, unable to control his own body spasming at the thought of being so manhandled and getting to breed such a stallion.

“In you go, boy,” the rhoa mahrazh mused. “You cum when I command you.”

The cock was pushed easily into the monster’s ass. It felt unlike anything he’d fucked before. It was so…big?....that it made his own prodigious dick feel small, as he was not filling the entire space. The monster was not moaning or screaming in pleasure, like the others he’s filled to overflowing abundance. But there was a warmth and coolness to being in that space that could not be described.

The monster pushed him in and pulled him out a few times, driving the Dothraki to orgasm at the mere motion and feeling of warmth…but not because he felt any frictional pressure. It was almost as though the presence of this beast was enough to trigger his primal urge to rape, breed, kill, eat, repeat.

A slow, rumbling roar started to eminate from the rhoa mahrazh’s core. The soldier remained as painfully erect as possible, even after unloading his copious seed into the monster.

“You did not listen to me, ant. I knew you were too stupid to know better.”

Immediately, pain shot throughout the Dothraki soldier’s body. The monster had clenched his asshole, tighter than anything possibly could, and clamped down on the soldier’s swollen cock. Although horrifyingly painful, the sensation of such power was beyond his imagination, and he started to pump out more cum…even though nothing left his penis. It was crushed due to the incredible ass musculature of the rhoa mahrazh.

The monster pushed the soldier down, ripping his penis from his body. Cum and blood poured from the wound, unleashing a scream more terrible than any of the two previous sex victims of the monster. Looking down, the white man shit out the soldier’s once prized cock…looking pathetically small even next to the toes of the monster.

“And now, you will die. Perhaps I will give you pleasure first?”

Confused, in pain, and still orgasming, two large hands picked him up, holding him in the air as though a baby held by its mother. One hand left his torso, and the soldier then felt a rigid yet soft, warm yet freezing cold piece of flesh push against this ass from under the loincloth. Immediately he started to realize that the width of this flesh was as thick as one of his own ass cheeks, which was somehow insanely erotic and mind numbingly terrifying simultaneously.

The rhoa mahrazh’s hand slid up and over the large piece of flesh, and inserted one of his thick fingers into the Dothraki asshole. The soldier screamed at the sudden, deep and thick penetration. Another finger joined, and another. Screams echoed throughout the hall, and no one was there to answer. Or, if others heard, they didn’t dare come to see what was causing the pain and pleasure shrieks. The monster used his fingers to reach inside, deep, and find the Dothraki pleasure bump, the one where when pressed made his seed pour forth in a far more copious amount. Without much noise, the Dothraki soldier fell into yet another orgasm, clearish cum pouring out of his dick stump.

Immediately after, the three fingers spread his asshole as wide as he felt it possibly could go, and the large piece of cock flesh was slowly inserted. But only the tip. His vision became fuzzy due to the amount of pleasure and pain pulsing through the pathetic man’s body…

“And, now, I will see what you are really made of, horse slut,” the rhoa mahrazh sneered.

Even though it was soft, it felt as though a khalassar had to move its entire number through a narrow opening all at once. It was too much to comprehend at once. Through brutal force the monster was pushing this piece of man flesh into an opening not mean to house it. The low rumble coming from the rhoa mahrazh’s mountain of a chest must have meant he found it pleasurable, because this was the tightest fit possible.

More fingers forced their way into the Dorthraki ass, pulling him open. He felt as though he was actually being torn apart, the pain felt unbelievable. More of the cock head was slowly maneurvered into the pathetically small soldier asshole, being stretched and possibly torn as nothing else could. The Dothraki was finally understanding why those women screamed when he penetrated them: such a large piece of man flesh entering into such a small, delicate opening was no normal feat of strength and fit, but it occurred through careful and forceful thrusting. In this case, it was the rhoa mahrazh’s brute strength forcing a soft cock the size of a leg into him – or, terrifyingly, just the bulbous head.

Through subtle gimpses of the world around him through flashes of pain and orgasm, the Dothraki saw the inhuman skull of the pale man, the rhoa mahrazh, the beast monster, the muscled mountain, the walking sex, looking deep into his own eyes. They were filled with lust and revenge, still, along with frustration. The penis head was not quite in yet, but he kept gently pushing the still soft snake into the pathetically small and weak Dothraki soldier.

With a final grunt, the monster thrust the entire head into the Dothraki ass – and the soldier’s vision and voice came back. The piercing shriek that emanated from the man’s mouth resembled that of the Night King, which brought about a sense of fear and anger in the white man’s eyes that the Dothraki had not necessarily anticipated. The pain and simultaneous erotic joy he felt was too much to comprehend at the same time, and all the horselord could do was realize that he had to focus on the pleasure before his impending death. Would he be dismembered? Would he be decapitated? How would his death happen?

“You’re a tight little fucker, ain’t you, horse bitch? Time to breed you.”

The monster started to close his eyes, and his skin started to change color again. His height nearly touched the ceiling of the hallway, his arms capable of wrapping around the massive stone pillars that periodically held up the portion of the fortress. This chest was wider than two or three of the largest Dothraki riders. His legs appeared stronger than a team of horses. His testicles, swelling no doubt with man seed, dangled halfway down his thighs, appearing like large water chambers the soldier once saw in Vaes Dothrak, the Dothraki “city” on their continent.

Pain once again washed over the soldier; he knew that the rhoa mahrazh was becoming excited. Since the cock head was so much wider than the rest of the beast’s shaft, he felt as though a leg was being slowly inserted up his body, except that the leg was growing thicker as it grew longer. Most of the ever thickening cock was still outside of the soldier, but he could feel it under his belly, and a strange sensation of being ripped apart from the inside. It hurt unlike anything he had experienced, including the loss of his cock, but the sensation was so pleasurable he wanted to continue to feel it.

Bravely the Dothraki soldier, as it were, raised his arms, shaking uncontrollably, and reached to the mighty chest of the rhoa mahrazh. He found the nipples, as thick and long as his once soft cock, when it was his cock, and started to masturbate them. The beast monster immediately moaned, reflexively contracting those mighty abs and pushing at least another large portion of his cock into the Dothraki.

The heart of the Dothraki felt it being pushed, and his ability to breathe was becoming even more difficult, almost as though he was given a large, strong hug from within his own body. Looking down he saw the large shape of a cock, almost as wide has his torso, extending well below his ass to the monster’s body, pushing up into his own chest.

“Die, now.”

With one slow, agonizing, pleasurable, horrifying move, the monster pulled the cock out of his body – it was still growing thicker – until only the head was left inside, and the rhoa mahrazh drove the even thicker and still growing cock back in. It was expanding so quickly that the hips of the Dothraki soldier split open, the crack almost as loud as the man’s screams. The friction of the monster pushing apart every organ in the soldier’s body, causing unimaginable damage and bleeding internally… cock head… against… heart… feels strange… maybe… not… pulse… swelling… pressure…joy….

--

Jon looked down to the Dothraki ant, his monstrous cock, probably rivaling that of the northern giants, filling the torso of this pathetic ma—boy, splitting him in half and shoving his cock into the ant’s throat, dying before him. How dare he even pretend to stop Jon Snow, the King of the North? Perhaps he should have a change of heart, and maybe he would do what others tempted him to do, to become the One Who Sits Upon the Iron Throne?

Eh. Too easy to do. He has white walkers to kill.

But, first, this pathetic ant, covering his cock like a sleeve, dying slowly due to his internal bleeding, needed to be pulled off. Reaching down, feeling for the bottom half of his cock, he grasped it as much as he could with two hands, and made love with his hands. The more he squeezed, the more pleasurable it felt, feeling something as powerful as Jon Snow trying to hurt something as powerful as Jon Snow’s cock…it was too much.

Pulse after pulse pushed from his dangling watermelon sized balls, coursing through his abdomen, and generating waves of pressure and pleasure up and through his cock. He felt his seed filling the Dothraki ant, as though a child filling the intestine of a goat with water, hoping to make it pop. Shot after shot filled the ant, making him swell up as though he made poor Sam seem like a slender twig of a boy, with shot after shot continuing into the corpse started to leak seed from the nose, eyes, (more pulses of seed) ears, mouth, (more pulses of seed); his skin started to form stretch marks, possibly unable to contain the pressure from within (more pulses of seed), until eventually the ant exploded. His cock, extending more than an arm’s length away from Jon’s body, kept pulsing blast after blast of his thick man seed as the hall was scattered with blood, seed, bones, shit, and other pieces of body part.

After several minutes, the pulses stopped. His cock softened, reaching somewhere below his knees. Jon was covered in fluids, some of his own, some of the Dothraki, but he needed to take a swim.

Perhaps he could convince the others to fetch his dragon glass while he took a swim to find this Euron, the man who made his plans upset? Reek needed to survive the punishment that Jon would give him. Euron, as Reek’s uncle, could take some of the sin of the nephew

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