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"Life is not a song, sweetling. You may learn that one day to your sorrow."
- Lord Petyr Baelish



Bolton Rising Part 77 - Gregor, Melly & Arya

After Ramsay had left for Winterfell, Gregor took a long shower, ice cold, hoping the chilled temperature would cool off his rising lust. As the soothing liquid rained down over chiseled, sculpted but tense muscles, the Mountain growled with a low, ominous tone. He stroked a hard, full erection with a soapy hand, while erotic thoughts of the two females filled his mind, making him dizzy with desire. He couldn't believe the Bastard of Bolton had granted his request so easily, and he wondered how long Ramsay had planned for such an event. His friend knew him better then anyone when it came to the monsters that lived inside them.

The dark and dangerous part of him was starved for prey, and for once, Gregor wasn't suppressing his need. Clegane pumped himself to completion, washing away the hot seed from his thick fingers before stepping out of the shower. He felt a bit more under control with the sexual release, but he knew that would only be temporary. The women had no idea what was coming for them. Gregor smirked as he dried off and yanked on a pair of loose fitted jersey pants, wandering out barefoot and leaving his wide chest exposed to air dry.

Stopping by the kitchen, the Mountain grabbed a cold bottle of ale and popped the cap off with his thumb, taking a long, refreshing drink. He then proceeded upstairs, tracking the sounds of soft feminine talking and intimate whispering peaking his curiosity. Inside the master bedroom, Gregor found his wife Melly and Arya, the bastard's pet, sitting upon the large bed wearing nothing but lingerie, with a collection of stones and a pack of cards fanned out between them. "What are you up to wife?" He asked while dark eyes roamed over the two beautiful girls, Clegane's blood surging at the sight of their provocative attire, tempting the beast to attack.

"Just reading Arya's cards, my love." Melly answered as she laid tarot cards face down in the shape of an X, inside of a ring of crystals. "She's never been read before." The girl looked up at him, green eyes intense with concentration, but something about her husband caused her to freeze, deck of cards in hand. A cold chill ran down her spine, she could sense the change in him. Although subtle, Melly could feel his restless energy and she could tell by Gregor's cold, hard stare, that the predator he tried so hard to keep controlled, had been brought to the surface. She could feel Arya stiffen behind her and knew that Ramsay's pet had sensed the danger, as well. 

Sweeping the crystals into a black velvet bag which she gingerly placed on the bedside table, she pushed the cards aside and rose, moving slowly toward the Mountain, careful to keep Arya behind her. Melly had seen this change in her man before, and so far she had been able to withstand him, but she knew all too well that misjudging a beast like Gregor Clegane was a mistake that one might only make once. Slowly still, calculating every move she made, Melly placed her hands flat on Gregor's rock hard stomach, feeling his abdominal muscles contract as she slid her left hand up over his sculpted chest. His skin seemed to ripple under her touch and she could almost feel electricity crackling under her palms.

She looked up at him, meeting his ice cold gaze and the fear left her as quickly as it had come. She felt it draining away, her body softening as she looked up at him, feeling a strange calm wash over her. The girl tilted her head back still more, exposing her neck in an involuntary gesture of submission, allowing herself to be completely vulnerable to him. 

She could feel the tension in him mounting and she began to trail her right hand down over his stomach. "Let Arya go, Gregor... please..." Her fingers traced the outline of the huge erection that was straining for release, she cupped him thought his pants, slowly massaging his massive cock as he lifted a hand and wrapped his fist in her long, chestnut hair. She let out a soft whimper and licked her lips. Her heart beat quickened, her nipples hardened under sheer, black lace, and she could feel wetness growing between her thighs, as her body readied itself for Gregor's assault. 

The Mountain inhaled sharply as his woman toyed with his cock, the thick length throbbing against the fabric of his pants, seeking the touch of her fingertips. “No.” He growled with a deep rumble, aggressively yanking Melly closer for a searing kiss, taking all the air from her lungs before releasing her to breathe again. “She’s not going anywhere tonight.” Gregor turned his hungry eyes upon Arya, setting down the empty beer bottle before holding out his free hand towards the nervous pet. “Come here girl...” He smirked with delight as he saw the girl visibly trembling, hiding poorly behind a bed post, ready to flee. “Don’t make me ask twice.” Clegane warned her as he pushed Melly down to her knees before him, spreading his stance, towering over the small, feminine figure. The Mountain’s sexual desire permeated the atmosphere of the bedroom as the temperature rose between them all. “My wife will show you exactly what to do to please me.” Looking back down upon his woman, Gregor drank in the sight of her ample tits spilling out over the top of a sheer bra, chest rising and falling with anticipation.

Melly loosened the tie of the his pants, pulling at the waistband until Gregor's straining cock sprung free of it's confinement. As always, her heart skipped a beat in anticipation. No matter how many times she set eyes on her man, she always felt in awe of his size. Everything about him lived up to the name that he'd been given. He was truly a Mountain in more than just reputation. Looking over her shoulder, she nodded to Arya, encouraging Ramsay's pet to come closer as Gregor had demanded. She had hoped to take the full force of him and spare the girl, but she knew that saying no to her husband was not an option. She saw Arya slowly begin to move closer and knew that as frightened as the pet was, she would obey. Melly had been that girl once, she still was, inside. Arya, too, could not help but obey the command of a man like Gregor Clegane. It was a part of who she had become.   

Arya crept closer, still, her eyes widening as she took in Clegane's impressive physique. How anyone could accommodate him was beyond imagining, however, as she came to kneel beside Melly, she could not deny the arousal that was growing inside her. Her Master had said she must obey this man, and so she would do anything that he asked of her, and the thought of that was at the same time terrifying and exciting. 

She met Melly's gaze and she could see the girl's sea green eyes were clouded with lust. The other girl reached out a hand, gently tucking an errant strand of Arya's hair behind an ear, then leaned in closer. Arya reacted instinctively and as their lips met, she felt a surge of desire deep inside her tummy. Gregor's wife kissed her slowly, softly and as she did so, Melly wrapped her hand around that massive erection and began to stroke, keeping her movements in rhythm with their kiss. Arya lifted her hand as well to wrap around the Mountain's shaft, amazed to see that her fingers barely reached around him. As they stroked together, their kiss deepened. The softness of the kiss was beautiful, urgent, but gentle. So different from kissing a man, Arya thought, as their tongues caressed each other in an intricate dance. Clegane wrapped a fist in her dark waves then, guiding both girls by their hair, his hips thrusting as his throbbing cock became entwined in the tangle of their kiss. 

Gregor plunged his shaft between the females’ soft lips, watching with a heated gaze as both worked in unison to give him ultimate pleasure. He groaned deeply, wanting more, moving his wife’s head lower, letting her suck on his balls while he pressed the tip of his cock between Arya’s moist lips. The Mountain’s grip was firm and insistent, face fucking Ramsay’s pretty pet, overfilling the girl’s mouth as she struggled to accommodate him. Clegane smirked darkly as Arya choked and drooled all over herself, releasing his hold on the woman as Melly came to take her place. He held his wife’s adoring face with both large hands, thrusting down her mouth as Melly went limp like a ragdoll, relaxing fully into submission as the Mountain deep-throated his woman. He pulled out slowly, his pre-cum glistening over Melly’s bottom lip before her pink tongue darted out to lick and savor his taste.

“Get on the bed and undress each other.” Clegane ordered sharply, lifting both woman off the floor and tossing them with ease onto the massive bed. He kicked his pants to the side and stood there proudly with his masculinity fully on display, grasping his pulsating member, ready to fuck them senseless. The darkness inside the Mountain was vibrating with energy, fueled by the erotic sight and floral smell of the two females in heat. The sounds of their sweet soft moans and longing sighs was like wildfire burning in his veins.

They moved to face each other, lips meeting again as they began to slowly explore each other's bodies. Arya gasped as Melly's hands cupped her breasts, thumbs slipping into the low cups of her demi bra, toying with her nipples and nipping at Arya's lower lip. She, in turn, slid her hands over the older girl's body, tracing her curves before timidly touching a full breast, letting it fill her hand, feeling the hardened nipple through the sheer lace. 

Melly dipped her head to Arya's breast as she reached around behind Ramsay's pet to unhook the borrowed pink bra. As she pulled the scrap of material away, she caught a pretty, pink nipple between her lips, kissing and licking as her hands moved down Arya's sides and came to rest on the curve of her hips. 

Arya instinctively raised herself higher on her knees, as Melly slid her tiny, silk panties down, exposing her to Gregor's eyes. The little pet heard his deep grumble of gratification as she spread her thighs wider, exposing her glistening wetness for his approval. The sound spurred her on, her arousal building as she reached again for the Mountain's wife, eager to remove the bits of lace that hid the girl's most intimate parts.

Now it was her turn to take charge, if only for a moment. Arya moved in closer, still, her lips grazing Melly's softly, slowly, burying her hands in long, flowing hair as she deepened the kiss. She heard a small, wanting moan pass between them and was not sure if it was her own, or if the other girl had made the sound. As they kissed, she let her fingers find the straps of the black bra, pushing them down over Melly's shoulders, unhooking the front clasp of the bra and watching it fall away with a little sigh of pleasure. She reached out then, touching, molding, running her fingers over full, rounded tits, hearing the little whimpers and gasps her touch solicited. "Keep going now..." She heard the breathless whisper in her ear and understood. They mustn't keep Clegane waiting too long. He was not, she knew, a patient man. 

Guiding Arya's hands to her thighs, Melly nodded as fingers fumbled with, then unfastened her garter clips. She shifted in assistance as, with shaking hands, Ramsay's pet slid her silk and lace panties down her thighs. It was Arya's first time with someone of her own sex, but in her time with Ramsay, Melly had learned the arts of pleasuring another woman, and she was no stranger to performing for an audience. She looked to Gregor for a moment, meeting his heated stare and he smiled, darkly as she placed her hand between Arya's parted thighs, her fingers separating soft petals to touch and tease, as she once again took a pert, pink nipple into her mouth and began to nibble and suck. The younger girl moaned at her touch, pushing her hips forward, following Melly's lead, exploring with her fingers, first touching the more experienced girl's breasts, then braver still, her fingers found their way between soft, slick folds and their hips rocked in a slow rhythm, as their fingers delved deeper.

The Mountain made his move onto the bed then, coming up behind his wife and pushing her forward so Arya fell gently backwards onto the pillows with Melly over her. As the women continued their explorations, Gregor grasped his woman by the hips and teased Melly’s wet core with the bulbous head of his cock, gliding over the silky folds in torturous bliss  “Come here… sweet doe.” He pulled firmly on Melly’s hair, arching her feminine body as he entered her tight pussy slowly, filling her up as Arya looked on. His wife was so wet and hot, completely turned on by the experience as he was. 

"Ohh..." His woman breathed as Gregor pushed into her. The stretch to accommodate him was slow, delicious, painful, and her eyes closed as he bent her body back. For a moment she allowed herself to disappear into the pain until suddenly he was in her to the hilt and the feeling of fullness became so intensely pleasurable that she moaned out loud. He began to move inside her then, withdrawing almost entirely, then sheathing himself inside of her fully, his movements were slow and deliberate, like sweet torture.

 “Spread your legs pet. My wife needs to taste you.” Clegane watched as Ramsay’s girl complied, offering her pink sex openly to both partners as he guided Melly’s face back down between those spread thighs. Even on his knees, Gregor’s gigantic height gave him a perfect view of his wife’s actions, admiring the way she began to pleasure the other female with her mouth, making Arya cry out with delight. “I think she likes that, Wife…” He grunted with approval, before thrusting into Melly, moving his hips in a steady pace while smacking her firm, rounded ass, coloring pale flesh with large hand prints.

Arya buried her hands in Melly's thick hair, her hips rising off the bed as the older girl's tongue danced and twirled around her clit, first quickly, then long and slow. Her climax was building, she could feel the pleasure slowly escalating and knew she was near the point of no return. Ramsay's pet watched the Mountain looming above them with an awed reverence. He was so massive, she knew she should be afraid of a man like this, however, all she could think was that she wanted more of this, of both of them. 

Before his wife could bring Ramsay’s pet to total fulfillment, Gregor yanked Melly away and pulled her upwards onto her knees. Impaled upon his cock to the wide hilt, Clegane turned Melly’s face to meet his mouth, kissing that taste of Arya’s sweet nectar off the female’s lips. “My greedy little wife.” He teased in a whisper against Melly’s ear, easing out of her drenched cunt, before he lost himself in that clenching embrace. “I want her on top.” The Mountain smirked as he laid down, his naked body taking up most of the bed as Arya moved out of the way and looked upon the glistening erection that awaited her. 

Melly smiled as her husband took her hand in his. "She tastes so good..." She teased, "And you feel so good, my love." However, she knew that this was Gregor's scene to direct, and she was happy to do anything that would please him. She looked to Arya, nodding in encouragement as the girl's eyes ran over the huge man who now lay before them. She could see that Arya was afraid, but there would be no protest, as the pet crawled lower on the bed and straddled the big man. 

Melly wrapped her free hand around his girth, guiding him as Arya eased herself onto that substantial erection, lowering herself slowly as her body opened fully to take him in, gasping in simultaneous pain and pleasure as her sheath stretched around him. Melly turned to lock eyes with her man, watching his dark eyes as Ramsay's pet enveloped him within her wet heat. He bit his lip, groaning long and low, then nodded his approval at her, causing Melly to swell with pride, running her fingers over his chest, leaning forward to trail kisses over his rock hard abdomen as Arya began to move her hips.

The Mountain bucked his hips upwards and thrust fully into Arya with a feral growl, his length throbbing in the girl's tight gripping sheath. His large hands grasped and squeezed her bouncing tits, hearing her cry out as he felt up rock hard nipples, before letting the pet ride his cock. “Straddle me too.” Gregor reached for his wife, guiding her, holding her around the hips as she brought her wet pussy to his mouth. He devoured Melly as she moaned above him, jabbing his tongue into her as his cock plunged into Ramsay’s pet. His balls felt heavy with seed, bursting at the seams as the two females writhed over him in erotic abandonment, cumming together in a chorus of sweet cries. 

Gregor's thick fingers dug deeply into her hips, bruising tender flesh, and Melly held onto his wrists tightly as she leaned forward to capture Arya's lips with her own. Her pelvis rocked as her man's tongue explored her depths, toying with her clit and working her to her climax. She ran her hands over Arya's full tits, stoking the fire that grew within Ramsay's pet as the girl bucked on Gregor's cock, collapsing into Melly's arms as her orgasm consumed her. 

Clegane rolled over and tossed them both onto the bed, cock in hand and stroked himself over the edge, groaning at the intense experience. His dark eyes were glazed over, staring at the naked women as his hot seed splashed over their tits, submissive and delighted to be given their prize. Then watching as Melly and Arya moved in unison to lick and suck on his spent cock, sharing the taste of the Mountain’s seed as their tongues entwined in a kiss. He felted the potent darkness in him subside, retreating back into its cage with satisfaction as Gregor rested on the bed, keeping the corners of his mouth from grinning widely.

Knowing better than to waste a precious drop, the girls licked each other clean as the Mountain watched in approval. Like a pair of kittens, they purred and cuddled as they cleaned each other, before finally tumbling into Gregor's arms in a warm, soft tangle. When Melly tilted her head back to meet his eyes, her own gaze was one of pure love. Clegane kissed his wife, long and deeply, before pulling her closer, still. With her head on his shoulder and Arya's head resting on Melly's chest, the three drifted off into contented slumber.


Bolton Rising Part 76 - Sandor

A lone figure staggered through an overgrown pathway, wandering past several rows of crumbling tombstones under the soft moonlight. The drunken man stumbled but caught his balance along the way, spitting out vile curses as he held onto a bottle of half consumed liquor. A pack of hungry wolves howled in the distance, but he paid them no mind while making his way towards the dilapidated monastery. The worn down steps creaked under his bulky weight and the front doors groaned as they were opened and closed.
Once inside the chapel, the Hound made his way towards a middle pew and sat down, staring up at the empty altar, framed by intricate stained glass. Ambient light illuminated the sermon podium, covered in dust and a mass of spiderwebs. It had been years since the old, but dutiful priest had given voice to the will of God and the purpose of man. But Sandor Clegane could still remember the kindly soul that had given a beaten young dog shelter and a chance at redemption.
Any time he needed to make a confession or even just seek solitude for the night, Father McCann welcomed him with open arms, no questions asked. The forgotten monastery, located far from the city, past the countryside and off a desolate road that virtually disappeared into the valley between the mountains, had been a lifeline to the Hound. No one would ever think to come searching for him here. It was beyond ridiculous. Clegane had only happened upon the area by chance, surprised to find Father McCann all alone and disconnected from the modern world.
As the last member of his brotherhood who was still alive, the priest was intrigued to have such a rare visitor, one he instantly deemed needing help or else why would God have brought Sandor to him? The Hound chuckled softly at the memory, before taking a swig from the bottle. The stubborn old bastard could give one hell of a sermon and he didn't care that Sandor was his only audience. In time, the two developed a deep friendship, with Clegane visiting often, bringing the priest supplies, food and helping with the upkeep of the place. For a while, the Hound knew what it was like to have and care for a parental figure, filling the hole in his heart which he carried from suffering the lack of such attentions as a child. But like everything in his life, the cruelties of the world crept in and eventually took away his contentment.
The Father had been invited to a luncheon to receive a lifetime award for his dedication to the faith by the head Cardinal of the city. Sandor had offered to escort his friend to and from the ceremony, but the priest had kindly refused with a laugh. "Never would I willingly enter your hellish beast on wheels my friend. I'll stick to the old ways." A day before the ceremony, the old man had traveled by foot to the main road and had taken a bus into the city, making the tedious pilgrimage without any complaints. Yet, Father McCann never made it to his hotel for the night, for fate had other intentions. The Hound's dear friend had been murdered right there at the bus station after his arrival, beaten and stabbed by a pair of thugs after the priest had interfered with their assault upon a homeless woman.
After that tragedy, Sandor raced against time, hunting the scumbags down before the cops closed in. If anyone was going to deliver justice for Father McCann, it was going to be him, not the useless court system. The empty liquor bottle rolled loudly across the floor as the Hound slumped over and stretched out along the uncomfortable bench, his drunken smirk cruel and unforgiving as he recalled the rage he unleashed upon those rapist-thieves. Their mangled broken bodies had been dumped outside the police station afterwards, their faces bloodied to a pulp, making identification difficult for the cops, but by some miracle the men were still alive to cough up their confessions. Not long after sentencing, one coward committed suicide and the other refused to ever leave solitary confinement, too afraid of the monster that had attacked them.
In his friend's honor, Sandor had bought all of the pristine land surrounding the monastery, protecting it from any development and keeping the old man's grave site undisturbed. Sometimes the Hound imagined himself fixing the place up and living a peaceful life out here alone. He could be lost and forgotten by time, just like Father McCann, but he wondered if that would truly give him any peace. As long as Alayne was out there in the world, singing like a little bird, Clegane would have no peace no matter where he went.