R18
Chataya, with her graceful hands, gently massages Arty's shoulders, her touch both soothing and sensual. The room is dimly lit, adding to the air of mystery and secrecy. Marei and Dancy, both blindfolded, knelt before Arty, their movements synchronized in a dance of pleasure. Marei's green eyes, though hidden, seem to sparkle with anticipation as she takes Arty's cock into her mouth, her lips soft and welcoming. Dancy, a voluptuous redhead from the Riverlands, runs her long, agile tongue along the length of his shaft, her touch both tender and teasing. She takes him deep into her throat, her skills evident as she sucks and spits, her tongue thrusting into Marei's mouth in a passionate kiss. Spit runs down their chins, glistening in the dim light, as they work together to draw out Arty's pleasure. Chataya leans in close, her lips brushing against Arty's ear as she whispers secrets in the Summer Tongue, her voice a soft, seductive murmur.
"The queen quarreled with the king a week before you left. I have maids in the Red Keep in my service, as you know," she whispered as she licked his ear and neck, her touch sending shivers down his spine. "The King intends to betroth you to Princess Myrcella." That was something within Arty's calculations, but the Queen's disapproval was not. "Why would she disapprove of me? I am heir to the Eyrie and son of the Hand of the King," he thought. Chataya continued, "Janos Slynt is selling officer positions in the watch, as you already know, and now is demanding double the protection money from brothels." She said as she grabbed Marei's head and forced her to take his cock all the way down her throat.
Arty tried to keep his tone firm. Dancy buried her face under his balls and licked the sensitive ridge underneath. "I will deal with Janos Slynt," he said. Janos Slynt was a corrupt pig and he had to go. King Robert might suffer his presence, but Arty wouldn't. Janos Slynt was Littlefinger's creature, and the fact that he tried to shake down brothels owned by other people was proof enough.
Arty grabbed Dancy, flipped her over, and rammed into her with ferocity. While he could feel Marei, still blindfolded, crawl her way behind him and lick his asshole, making Artys grunt. Chataya gave him a sultry smile, her long, elegant fingers tracing his inner thigh before gently squeezing his balls to the point of pain. Arty pulled out of Dancy as he came, and Chataya wrapped her mouth around his cock, her experienced tongue swirling around his glans, cleaning Dancy's juices from it.
Chataya escorted the blindfolded Dancy out of the room. Arty briefly skinchanged into Black Tom, the cat who was standing vigil on top of Chataya's brothel for any spies. The coast was clear! Arty grabbed Marei and placed her on his lap. The girl had been diligent in her work, as Chataya had told him. She was the bookkeeper for all the properties Arty owned in King's Landing and had been loyal and dutiful. She was always blindfolded in his presence to ensure secrecy. Arty spoke to her in the common tongue, although with the accent of a Westerlander, something he could mimic with perfection due to his time spent in a royal court full of them.
Alyssane Lefford was the sixteen-year-old heir to the Goldtooth and the newest lady companion to the princess. A ripe plum for any lordling to wed, and not just for her rich lands, she was quite the beauty: a tall girl with big breasts that stood proud, decent hips, a cascade of honey-blonde hair, and hazel eyes. Myrcella had the beauty of the Queen; she was still half a girl. Arty wanted to place his people around Myrcella. But any appointments as maids or cooks that close to the royal family would be scrutinized by all the astute players. Placing his people in the orbit of Myrcella's ladies-in-waiting was less stringent but still dangerous. Arty had grown very fond of Marei, not to mention how useful and obedient she was to him. "I thank you for the jade necklace, my lord," she said. "I am pleased with you, Marei," he replied. "How goes your task with Lady Alyssane?"
Marei smiled. "Her Ladyship was most lonely when she first came to court. She attends to the princess most days; they sing, sew, and gossip. She shares the princess's bed some days, but most days she sleeps in her room. I did as Lady Chataya instructed. I have ingratiated myself with her. I began to seduce her two weeks in, little by little, when I help her bathe, listening to endless prattle about her many suitors. The Redwyne twins have been the most persistent, but they do not excite the Lady, nor does Lancel Lannister."
Marei said, a sly smile crossing her usually solemn face. "Despite being a woman grown, she is still a maid, my lord. She is quite innocent, and before long, I had my fingers in her cunny, making her squirm. She likes to pretend nothing is amiss during the day, but come nighttime, a little wine in her, and she is wanton as can be. We share a bed almost every night. I have been showing her Lysene books on lovemaking that would make a septa's heart explode. my lord, I have corrupted her, body and soul. She is mine, completely under my spell, ready to do my bidding. She craves my touch, my presence, my guidance. And I have ensured that she will do anything to keep me by her side, to keep me pleasing her in the ways she has come to crave" Marei finished with her eyes filled with sinister glee.
"That is good work, Marei," Arty replied trying to keep his composure "But what news do you have of the Princess?"
Marei continued, "The Princess is quite taken with the Hand's son, Artys. She hopes that they would wed. Alyssane tries to hide it, but she wants the Arryn boy as well. She fears her father might wed her to some old lord with no teeth."
That was confirmation, Arty thought proudly. Even Arty's face had been enhanced to human perfection by the Serum, giving him a strong jawline, sapphire blue eyes, and perfect white teeth. But Lt Aoi Kobayashi grew up as a scrawny, pimply youth with above-average height and below-average looks. In his previous life, he lost his virginity in a Soapland during a visit to Japan. His father wanted to make him a man, and as a reward for getting into West Point. The thought that such beautiful women would be attracted to him still made him feel undeserving and perplexed.
"Keep up the good work, Marei," he said, giving her a good, long kiss. "Should you feel that you are in danger, be sure to inform Chataya or go to the place Chataya has told you about. Know your service will rewarded " Marei nodded, smiled and kissed him .
R 18 over.
The docks of King's Landing stank of tar, salt, and sweat. Gulls screamed overhead while sailors shouted and hauled ropes. King Robert Baratheon trudged along the planks with Jon Arryn at his side and Lord Petyr Baelish trailing just behind. Artys followed in turn, a wineskin slung over his shoulder—half servant, half shadow.
"Bravos again?" Robert muttered under his breath as Jon spoke of tariffs and trade routes. "Seven bloody hells, I'll drown before I listen to another word about coppers."
"The Iron Bank Your Grace," Jon said mildly. " your grace we need coin to expand the grannaries , The tourney is an expense ..."
Robert cut him off . " We've had nothing but summers for years. food is plenty enough you worry too much the realm needs tourneys as much as they do food . I wont go begging for coin "
Littlefinger smiled that fox's smile of his. "Begging is such an ugly word, Your Grace. The Iron Bank prefers to think of it as... profitable cooperation."
The king gave him a look that might have made a lesser man soil himself, but Baelish only dipped his head, unbothered. Artys hid his smirk by taking a pull from the wineskin before offering it to Robert.
Robert drank deep, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and exhaled with satisfaction. "Gods, that's better. Enough talk of coin and ledgers. Tywin's throwing a tourney at Lannisport—now there's business worth my time."
He clapped Artys on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. "You'll come with me, lad. Pack your steel, say your farewells. We ride for the west before the week's out."
"Yes, Your Grace," Artys said.
Robert turned away, already bored with the matter at hand. "Jon, walk with me," he said. "There's something I'd have a word about—privately" giving Artys a look filled with mischief.
The Hand followed, slow and steady The Kingsguard followed like Pale shadows. Their voices faded down the dock, swallowed by the clamor of the harbor.
That left Artys alone with Petyr Baelish. The Master of Coin studied the departing king with faint amusement before turning to Artys.
"The Knight of the Crescent Moon," Littlefinger said softly, as if testing the sound of it. "They still whisper about him in the Vale, I hear. A mystery knight who bested Bronze Yohn himself."
Artys tilted his head, feigning confusion. "Is that so? The Vale does love to gossip."
"Indeed it does," Petyr said. "Though some stories can be... profitable. Tell me, ser, do you think we might see the black knight again—say, at Lannisport?"
Artys's lips curved faintly. "If the gods are kind. I hear he's quite formidable. I only hope he faces the finest knights in the realm. It would be a shame otherwise."
Baelish's grin widened, sly as a cat's. "Oh, I'm sure that can be arranged—with lucrative outcomes for all involved."
Their eyes met, both men exchanged knowing smiles.
"Then may fortune favor us both," Artys said, inclining his head.
"And the gods grant us good odds," Littlefinger replied.
Artys left him there among the dockhands and sailors, the sea breeze tugging at his cloak. The city stank, the gold cloaks barked orders at beggars, and somewhere far off, the bells of the Great Sept tolled the hour.
He looked toward the west Lannisport awaited.