“Game of Thrones: The Five Queens” Part 2
*Note to my readers: This story is loosely based off of the show series. This is fan fiction so I’ve altered the timeline and taken it in a direction which accommodates a story such as this. There are some parts that contain spoilers for anyone who hasn’t watched the show or isn’t up to date on episodes so fair warning. Enjoy!
Littlefinger’s newly acquired army was stretched out in a long, snaking line behind him as they marched along. Littlefinger was riding near the front of the column. Lysa Arryn and Melisandre were riding side by side near him. Lysa was insanely jealous of Petyr’s new fire goddess he always kept near him, but he told her that Melisandre might yet prove useful. Best to have a powerful priestess in your employ than allied with an enemy.
Littlefinger had led an army from The Vale accompanied by several thousand mercenary soldiers to the the battlefield where the armies of the five major houses were clashing to determine which queen would rule Westeros. But Littlefinger had chosen his time to attack well. When all five armies had been hacked to pieces, Littlefinger ordered his men forward and took the field easily. Many of the queens’ men were ridden down and slaughtered where they stood. A small portion were captured, good fighting men that would be sent to The Wall probably.
Most walked along the road with guards flanking both sides of them. Some of the female prisoners such as the five queens were loaded in prisoner transport wagons and carted along on their way to King’s Landing. The wagons had wooden benches lining both sides. The seats had metal rings for shackles if necessary.
Cersei Lannister, Ellaria Sand, Margaery Tyrell, Sansa Stark, and Daenerys Targaryen were bound and gagged in one of the wagons as it bumped and jostled along the uneven road. Their hands were tied with rope behind their backs. Chains around their ankles kept them from getting out of the wagon. Black strips of silk cloth rested between their teeth and were pulled back tightly and knotted behind their heads. The black cloth pressed deeply into the corners of their mouths and cheeks. Drool had already soaked the front of the gags. They sat in their wagon silent as they swayed and bounced with the jostling of the wheels upon stones and dips in the road.
When Littlefinger and his army finally arrived at King’s Landing, he halted a safe distance out. Cersei had been the Ruler of Westeros when she set out from the huge city. Now Littlefinger had brought her back, except this time she was in chains. He wasn’t sure how well the people would take the news. Littlefinger had sent ravens ahead of his army to inform all those behind the walls that he expected them to relinquish the city or Cersei and all of her captured generals would be executed in front of them.
Littlefinger ordered Cersei to be freed from her gag and taken out of the wagon to be brought before him. Cersei struggled as she was wrestled out of the cart and escorted to the front of the caravan. Littlefinger dismounted and smiled as he watched Cersei shouting and growling as his guards forced her to walk. They took a short wooden pole and slid it between her arms and her back to keep her more rigid and make it easier to control her. Cersei tried to thwart the guards’ efforts by going slack and just letting her body be dead weight. But the men easily picked her back up by using the pole and forced her back to her feet.
Atop the walls, Littlefinger could see hundreds of soldiers and common folk looking out at the enemy forces. He had their proud queen bound and humiliated before them. The highest ranking officer left within the city was a Captain named Moltke. He appeared on the wall above the main entrance and addressed Littlefinger. The Captain seemed unnerved when he beheld the vast army before the city gates.
Littlefinger: “Greetings, Captain Moltke. I see the city still stands after being left in your qualified care. No doubt you’ve done well maintaining order in Queen Cersei’s absence. I’m sure your queen gave you orders before she departed to fight her war but it appears circumstances have changed recently. I trust that you’ve received my messages?”
Moltke: “I have, Ser Baelish. I’ve read your terms for the surrender of the city as well as your offer to me and those under my command. The terms are very agreeable.”
Cersei was fuming as she watched her own men seemingly coming to terms with this rat traitor that seized her as a prisoner. Her, Cersei Lannister, the rightful queen. Cersei’s temper flared and she yelled to her captain, “You forget yourself, Captain Moltke! I am still the Queen and you will OBEY my commands or I will see you hung from the city walls alongside this traitorous fuck, Littlefinger!!!”
Littlefinger’s pleasant expression quickly faded from his face as he slowly glanced toward Cersei behind him. He nodded to his guards and they held Cersei firmly in place by gripping her arms. Littlefinger approached her with slow, deliberate steps. He pulled off his leather gloves.
The men and women watching from the walls of King’s Landing fell silent as they watched how their queen would be dealt with for her disrespectful outburst. Littlefinger made another slight hand motion and one of the guards came over in front of Cersei. He untied the front of her tunic and pulled it open. Cersei growled with rage and humiliation as her outfit was pulled off her shoulders, revealing her lovely, supple breasts and smooth, pink nipples.
Littlefinger: “Very impressive, Cersei. And if I’m not mistaken, this isn’t the first time you’ve had to show off your tits to the common people now is it? I’m going to show you how I handle disrespectful women in my brothel when they talk out of line.”
Cersei: “Littlefinger, I promise you a Lannister always repays her debts! I swear that if you..”
*Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!*
Littlefinger used one hand and swatted firmly across each breast, alternating between the left and right. The stinging slaps across Cersei’s boobs left them slightly pink as he kept smacking them. Cersei moaned with pain and grimaced as her tits jiggled with each punishing swat. Then after he was done swatting her impressive breasts, he took each nipple and pinched them firmly as he twisted them a little, doing both at the same time. Again, Cersei Lannister groaned and winced as she was punished for her outburst.
When Littlefinger was done, he pulled his gloves back on and turned to address Captain Moltke. “Captain, you and I are reasonable men. I trust that you find my terms agreeable seeing as the alternative is a delayed but certain victory for me.”
The captain saw his queen being so easily dominated and knew that it was futile to support her further.
Captain Moltke: “I agree to your terms for the surrender of the city. I’ll assemble the high-born ladies in the Throne Room as you’ve requested.”
The bridge was lowered and the gate was opened. Littlefinger marched his army and the prisoners into the city. The five queens were taken into a private quarters and allowed to change out of their battlefield attire into more fitting clothing. They were each given an elegant dress from their own luggage that was brought back from their personal tents that were raided after the battle.
The guards opened the giant doors to the Throne Room and prodded the women to march inside. The five queens walked into the large, spacious room. Their eyes darted in both directions as they scanned the large crowd standing on either side of them as they walked toward the front. Sansa’s eyes found Brienne sticking up a head taller than most of the other women in the crowd. Arya was standing next to her with a look of absolute concern on her face for her sister.
There were well over a hundred women standing in the room. They were the usual ladies in attendance at court: affluent, high-born, connected women that jostled for power and secrets among the elite of the city. The women looked solemn as they watched the five queens being paraded in. The high-born women in the city had all been forced into the Throne Room as well to witness the fate of the queens. Ellaria saw Tyene standing near the aisle in fear for what would happen to them. Ellaria tried to stop and talk to her daughter but the guards pushed her forward as she shouted.
The five women were brought front and center to the head of the crowd. Waiting for them was Littlefinger with Lady Lysa and Melisandre flanking him on either side. He greeted them with a cold, reptilian grin that conveyed they were in for a very miserable existence from now on if they didn’t swear him to be their king.
There was also a custom-built contraption at the head of the room. It appeared to be a rectangular, wooden frame with holes along the top large enough for wrists and padding along the bottom portion. The five queens were all forced to kneel within the device. Their hands were jerked upward and locked in place within the holes securing them. The ladies were now essentially trapped in a kneeling position with their hands stretched up above their heads. The whole crowd of high-born ladies watched with uneasy interest. Daenerys tried her best to look proud despite her being forced into this unusual bondage before what should have been her loyal subjects. Her eyes met Missandei and she suddenly felt horrible knowing her most loyal servant had also been captured and forced into the Throne Room as well.
Petyr Baelish walked slowly over to the women until he was standing in front of them. From left to right as he was looking at them, they were Ellaria, Daenerys, Margaery, Sansa, and Cersei. “Ladies, ladies...I did not want this. Had you sweared loyalty to me and declared your one true king out on the battlefield, you would have entered King’s Landing as the royalty you all are. But instead your pride and stubbornness has gotten you here...locked side by side like peasants that need to be punished. Far too much blood has been shed already but my patience for your support grows thin. You all come from great houses. I have no desire to see you five ladies executed and your houses destroyed. I say once again, join me. While I’m still willing to accept your loyalty politely. Otherwise...this could be quite embarrassing for you all.”
Ellaria spat on the floor near where Littlefinger was standing. The rest of the women started hurling insults at him. Tempers flared and several times they threatened to put his head on a spike after they were freed.
The crowd gasped at the blatant disrespect the five queens had for their captor and supposed future King of Westeros. Littlefinger could feel the hot sting of embarrassment coming over him. Best to send a message now in front of the court. Littlefinger nodded toward Melisandre, who smiled back at him and walked over behind Ellaria.
Ellaria sensed Melisandre behind her and snarled at Littlefinger. “I don’t care what you do to me! I’ll find a way to kill you with the most excruciating poison I can find! I swear I’ll EEEEK!! Hahahahaha!! Quit it!!”
Ellaria shrieked a little at the sudden surprise of Melisandre lightly skittering her fingernails down into her vulnerable underarms. The exotic beauty from the south twisted her face in unexpected ticklish agony as she began howling laughter with every skilled stroke of Melisandre’s fingers in her smooth hollows.
Her armpits were definitely a very sensitive area for Ellaria to say the least. Just light stroking was enough to make her thrash and wail laughter. She could remember how not many young men had lived to bask in the experience of pinning her down and tormenting her smooth underarms when she was a young woman. Dornish men knew the tales of her ruthlessness and cunning now and didn’t dare try to sneak tickles in on her for fear of retaliation. But now the red-haired priestess was having her way with Ellaria’s underarms, despite her panic-ridden threats and there was nothing she could do about it.
Littlefinger: “I think you’ll find that calling me king will be easier than you first thought, my little sand queen. And save you a lot of unwanted attention, I promise you.”
Melisandre: “It would be wise to do as he suggests. Your poor underarms seem to be giving you a lot of trouble.”
Ellaria: “HAHAHAHAHA!!! Never!! Get out of there!! Leave my underarms alone!!”
When Melisandre finally did stop tickling Ellaria, the Dornish queen’s chest was heaving from laughing so much. The women in the crowd were visibly upset by the spectacle. Little finger went down the line and stood in front of Daenerys.
She tried to look at him as if nothing could bother her. Littlefinger smirked at her and said, “Ah the famous Daenerys Targaryen. My little birds tell me you’ve been through quite a lot already to get to Westeros. But rest assured, you’ll go through a whole lot more if you don’t set your pride aside and announce me as your king.” Daenerys raised her eyebrows in an unamused manner and then replied, “It is YOU who are mistaken for I am Daenerys Targaryen, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, Breaker of Chains, rightful heir of teeeheeheheeehee!!”
Daenerys was caught off guard as Melisandre slid her fingernails into her armpits and began wiggling them playfully. The silver-haired queen was soon giggling and laughing beyond her control as she failed to finish listing her string of titles. Daenerys’ adorable smile was beaming as she laughed and twisted involuntarily while her underarms were being exploited by skilled hands.
Missandei watched from the crowd with a furrowed brow of concern. She hated watching her queen laugh and squeal like a fool. Her queen had always been so strong. How could something as silly and childish like tickling affect her so? But then Missandei recalled how Daenerys would react sometimes when she bathed her. Whenever she scrubbed the soapy cloth over certain areas of Daenerys’ body, the queen would jump or tense up. She was very particular about how she wanted to be washed. Missandei had to use a very gentle touch around her bellybutton and feet.
Daenerys shifted around and tried to pull her hands down out of the holes but to no avail. Melisandre continued wiggling her long fingernails gently and relentlessly over Daenerys’ completely smooth armpits. “Mother of Dragons? You sound more like the Mother of Giggles when I do this, my little queen,” Melisandre commented playfully as Daenerys giggled weakly and told her to stop.
After he felt he had made his point by making Daenerys laugh uncontrollably in front of the crowd, Littlefinger motioned for Melisandre to move on. They both approached Margaery, who was locked in the middle of the group. Her sleeveless dress exposed her bare underarms. She swallowed hard and looked at Littlefinger intently with her big doe eyes. Melisandre rested her pointy fingernails softly against Margaery’s smooth hollows and waited. Margaery tensed and told Littlefinger that this was no way to treat a proper lady.
Littlefinger chuckled and replied, “Would a proper lady plot to poison her husband on their wedding day?” Melisandre took her cue and began skittering her fingernails across Margaery’s sleek underarms, making the beauty burst into laughter and giggles. Margaery’s laughter was absolutely adorable as she wiggled and twisted to move her underarms away from Melisandre’s cruel nails.
Margaery: “Hahahahaha!! This is pointless, Littlefinger! Hahahaha!! This doesn’t change the fact that eeehehehehe!! That I should be the next Queen of Westeros!! Heheheheheee!!”
Littlefinger: “Well if this doesn’t change anything, then you won’t mind if my priestess keeps tickling you a little more.”
Margaery continued to laugh and squirm as Melisandre played in her armpits. The stunning brunette was well-endowed and her lovely breasts almost shook free from her dress as she writhed from side to side. Many of the women in the crowd were Tyrell supporters and they hated to watch Highgarden’s most prized lady being subjected to such bizarre torment. It seemed quite degrading to see her laugh and whine uncontrollably just from somebody scratching at her underarms.
Next up was Sansa. The red-headed leader of Winterfell had been dreading her turn after watching the other women go before her. Sansa hoped to the gods that Littlefinger still cared about her enough to spare her the torment. Her underarms were horribly ticklish. She didn’t know if she could take being restrained like this and feeling the terrible touch of fingers in one of her most sensitive spots. “Littlefinger, please! You have to listen to reason!”
Littlefinger seemed emotionless. “No, my dear Sansa. The time for reason has passed. Now all I want to listen to is the sound of your laughter.” With a nod of his head, Sansa jumped to life as she felt Melisandre’s fingernails dancing across her smooth, pale armpits. Sansa was quite nervous about how the tickling would feel and had been perspiring slightly, making her underarms a little moist to the touch.
Sansa had been nervous for good reason; her armpits were easily one of her most sensitive areas. She cackled and shouted laughter like crazy as Melisandre pressed on. The nails flicked lightly over and over in her naked underarms. Sansa could barely form words to tell Littlefinger to stop as she giggled and laughed like mad. Melisandre raised her eyebrows with amusement. She was barely tickling her all that intensely but her reactions were great.
Melisandre: “Not very becoming for a strong Lady of Winterfell, don’t you agree? You’ll never be fit to rule the Seven Kingdoms with such sensitive armpits, my dear.”
Sansa: “HAHAHAHAHA!!! NO!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!! NOT THERE!!”
Brienne had to hold Arya back in the crowd. How could they do this to her sister? Make her laugh like some little girl when it was clearly driving her crazy? Arya wanted to kill them all. Brienne too felt the hot hatred toward Sansa’s tormentors but had to be realistic. There was no way they would even touch Littlefinger right now without weapons. She and Arya would be cut down in no time.
Littlefinger finally arrived at Cersei. She looked cool and collected but her eyes were filled with a murderous rage. Littlefinger knew he would enjoy watching Cersei reduced to nothing more than a giggling mess in the days to come. Through nearly gritted teeth, Cersei threatened what would happen if he did not let her go immediately.
Littlefinger snapped his fingers and Melisandre shut Cersei up by frantically tickling her underarms. Cersei tried to hold in her laughter as tightly as she could but it quickly slipped out through her growls and grunts. Cersei burst into loud, frustrated laughter as Melisandre attacked her vulnerable pits. The bratty Lannister beauty clearly had very ticklish underarms. She thrashed and laughed wildly even though she was trying her best to yell curses.
Littlefinger: “Do you recall what you said to me several years ago, Cersei? Power. Is. Power. And right now, it’s clear that I have power over you. Your time as ruler is over. You’ll be my tickle slave until you agree to serve me.”
Cersei couldn’t stand to have someone touch her underarms. Her twin brother, Jaime, used to pin her arms above her head when they were lying naked in bed together. He was one of the few men who didn’t care about her threats. He thought it was funny how worked up he could get her; it made their love making afterward that much more intense. Jaime would take his time and stroke her naked armpits for an entire afternoon as she screamed and begged him to stop. He only gave her a break when he wanted to kiss her passionately between attacks. When he would finally let her free, Cersei would immediately climb on top of him and fuck him until she shuddered with an orgasm. Cersei longed for his touch but remembered how agonizing the tickling used to be.
Littlefinger relished the sight of Cersei shaking and laughing like a mad woman. It really was like watching a caged lion being prodded. Her frustrated growling and grunts were clear indicators of how awful the tickling was for her.
After Cersei had been given a good dose of tickle torture in front of her former subjects, Littlefinger turned and addressed the crowd of women. “Now for all of you ladies of the court...you’ve seen what happens to women that try to deny my claim to the Iron Throne. None of you supported me when I was rallying my forces. But it seems the game of thrones is always changing things. Before I accept any oaths of fealty from you, I have something else in order...”
TO BE CONTINUED...
*Note to my readers: This story is loosely based off of the show series. This is fan fiction so I’ve altered the timeline and taken it in a direction which accommodates a story such as this. There are some parts that contain spoilers for anyone who hasn’t watched the show or isn’t up to date on episodes so fair warning. Enjoy!
Littlefinger’s newly acquired army was stretched out in a long, snaking line behind him as they marched along. Littlefinger was riding near the front of the column. Lysa Arryn and Melisandre were riding side by side near him. Lysa was insanely jealous of Petyr’s new fire goddess he always kept near him, but he told her that Melisandre might yet prove useful. Best to have a powerful priestess in your employ than allied with an enemy.
Littlefinger had led an army from The Vale accompanied by several thousand mercenary soldiers to the the battlefield where the armies of the five major houses were clashing to determine which queen would rule Westeros. But Littlefinger had chosen his time to attack well. When all five armies had been hacked to pieces, Littlefinger ordered his men forward and took the field easily. Many of the queens’ men were ridden down and slaughtered where they stood. A small portion were captured, good fighting men that would be sent to The Wall probably.
Most walked along the road with guards flanking both sides of them. Some of the female prisoners such as the five queens were loaded in prisoner transport wagons and carted along on their way to King’s Landing. The wagons had wooden benches lining both sides. The seats had metal rings for shackles if necessary.
Cersei Lannister, Ellaria Sand, Margaery Tyrell, Sansa Stark, and Daenerys Targaryen were bound and gagged in one of the wagons as it bumped and jostled along the uneven road. Their hands were tied with rope behind their backs. Chains around their ankles kept them from getting out of the wagon. Black strips of silk cloth rested between their teeth and were pulled back tightly and knotted behind their heads. The black cloth pressed deeply into the corners of their mouths and cheeks. Drool had already soaked the front of the gags. They sat in their wagon silent as they swayed and bounced with the jostling of the wheels upon stones and dips in the road.
When Littlefinger and his army finally arrived at King’s Landing, he halted a safe distance out. Cersei had been the Ruler of Westeros when she set out from the huge city. Now Littlefinger had brought her back, except this time she was in chains. He wasn’t sure how well the people would take the news. Littlefinger had sent ravens ahead of his army to inform all those behind the walls that he expected them to relinquish the city or Cersei and all of her captured generals would be executed in front of them.
Littlefinger ordered Cersei to be freed from her gag and taken out of the wagon to be brought before him. Cersei struggled as she was wrestled out of the cart and escorted to the front of the caravan. Littlefinger dismounted and smiled as he watched Cersei shouting and growling as his guards forced her to walk. They took a short wooden pole and slid it between her arms and her back to keep her more rigid and make it easier to control her. Cersei tried to thwart the guards’ efforts by going slack and just letting her body be dead weight. But the men easily picked her back up by using the pole and forced her back to her feet.
Atop the walls, Littlefinger could see hundreds of soldiers and common folk looking out at the enemy forces. He had their proud queen bound and humiliated before them. The highest ranking officer left within the city was a Captain named Moltke. He appeared on the wall above the main entrance and addressed Littlefinger. The Captain seemed unnerved when he beheld the vast army before the city gates.
Littlefinger: “Greetings, Captain Moltke. I see the city still stands after being left in your qualified care. No doubt you’ve done well maintaining order in Queen Cersei’s absence. I’m sure your queen gave you orders before she departed to fight her war but it appears circumstances have changed recently. I trust that you’ve received my messages?”
Moltke: “I have, Ser Baelish. I’ve read your terms for the surrender of the city as well as your offer to me and those under my command. The terms are very agreeable.”
Cersei was fuming as she watched her own men seemingly coming to terms with this rat traitor that seized her as a prisoner. Her, Cersei Lannister, the rightful queen. Cersei’s temper flared and she yelled to her captain, “You forget yourself, Captain Moltke! I am still the Queen and you will OBEY my commands or I will see you hung from the city walls alongside this traitorous fuck, Littlefinger!!!”
Littlefinger’s pleasant expression quickly faded from his face as he slowly glanced toward Cersei behind him. He nodded to his guards and they held Cersei firmly in place by gripping her arms. Littlefinger approached her with slow, deliberate steps. He pulled off his leather gloves.
The men and women watching from the walls of King’s Landing fell silent as they watched how their queen would be dealt with for her disrespectful outburst. Littlefinger made another slight hand motion and one of the guards came over in front of Cersei. He untied the front of her tunic and pulled it open. Cersei growled with rage and humiliation as her outfit was pulled off her shoulders, revealing her lovely, supple breasts and smooth, pink nipples.
Littlefinger: “Very impressive, Cersei. And if I’m not mistaken, this isn’t the first time you’ve had to show off your tits to the common people now is it? I’m going to show you how I handle disrespectful women in my brothel when they talk out of line.”
Cersei: “Littlefinger, I promise you a Lannister always repays her debts! I swear that if you..”
*Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!*
Littlefinger used one hand and swatted firmly across each breast, alternating between the left and right. The stinging slaps across Cersei’s boobs left them slightly pink as he kept smacking them. Cersei moaned with pain and grimaced as her tits jiggled with each punishing swat. Then after he was done swatting her impressive breasts, he took each nipple and pinched them firmly as he twisted them a little, doing both at the same time. Again, Cersei Lannister groaned and winced as she was punished for her outburst.
When Littlefinger was done, he pulled his gloves back on and turned to address Captain Moltke. “Captain, you and I are reasonable men. I trust that you find my terms agreeable seeing as the alternative is a delayed but certain victory for me.”
The captain saw his queen being so easily dominated and knew that it was futile to support her further.
Captain Moltke: “I agree to your terms for the surrender of the city. I’ll assemble the high-born ladies in the Throne Room as you’ve requested.”
The bridge was lowered and the gate was opened. Littlefinger marched his army and the prisoners into the city. The five queens were taken into a private quarters and allowed to change out of their battlefield attire into more fitting clothing. They were each given an elegant dress from their own luggage that was brought back from their personal tents that were raided after the battle.
The guards opened the giant doors to the Throne Room and prodded the women to march inside. The five queens walked into the large, spacious room. Their eyes darted in both directions as they scanned the large crowd standing on either side of them as they walked toward the front. Sansa’s eyes found Brienne sticking up a head taller than most of the other women in the crowd. Arya was standing next to her with a look of absolute concern on her face for her sister.
There were well over a hundred women standing in the room. They were the usual ladies in attendance at court: affluent, high-born, connected women that jostled for power and secrets among the elite of the city. The women looked solemn as they watched the five queens being paraded in. The high-born women in the city had all been forced into the Throne Room as well to witness the fate of the queens. Ellaria saw Tyene standing near the aisle in fear for what would happen to them. Ellaria tried to stop and talk to her daughter but the guards pushed her forward as she shouted.
The five women were brought front and center to the head of the crowd. Waiting for them was Littlefinger with Lady Lysa and Melisandre flanking him on either side. He greeted them with a cold, reptilian grin that conveyed they were in for a very miserable existence from now on if they didn’t swear him to be their king.
There was also a custom-built contraption at the head of the room. It appeared to be a rectangular, wooden frame with holes along the top large enough for wrists and padding along the bottom portion. The five queens were all forced to kneel within the device. Their hands were jerked upward and locked in place within the holes securing them. The ladies were now essentially trapped in a kneeling position with their hands stretched up above their heads. The whole crowd of high-born ladies watched with uneasy interest. Daenerys tried her best to look proud despite her being forced into this unusual bondage before what should have been her loyal subjects. Her eyes met Missandei and she suddenly felt horrible knowing her most loyal servant had also been captured and forced into the Throne Room as well.
Petyr Baelish walked slowly over to the women until he was standing in front of them. From left to right as he was looking at them, they were Ellaria, Daenerys, Margaery, Sansa, and Cersei. “Ladies, ladies...I did not want this. Had you sweared loyalty to me and declared your one true king out on the battlefield, you would have entered King’s Landing as the royalty you all are. But instead your pride and stubbornness has gotten you here...locked side by side like peasants that need to be punished. Far too much blood has been shed already but my patience for your support grows thin. You all come from great houses. I have no desire to see you five ladies executed and your houses destroyed. I say once again, join me. While I’m still willing to accept your loyalty politely. Otherwise...this could be quite embarrassing for you all.”
Ellaria spat on the floor near where Littlefinger was standing. The rest of the women started hurling insults at him. Tempers flared and several times they threatened to put his head on a spike after they were freed.
The crowd gasped at the blatant disrespect the five queens had for their captor and supposed future King of Westeros. Littlefinger could feel the hot sting of embarrassment coming over him. Best to send a message now in front of the court. Littlefinger nodded toward Melisandre, who smiled back at him and walked over behind Ellaria.
Ellaria sensed Melisandre behind her and snarled at Littlefinger. “I don’t care what you do to me! I’ll find a way to kill you with the most excruciating poison I can find! I swear I’ll EEEEK!! Hahahahaha!! Quit it!!”
Ellaria shrieked a little at the sudden surprise of Melisandre lightly skittering her fingernails down into her vulnerable underarms. The exotic beauty from the south twisted her face in unexpected ticklish agony as she began howling laughter with every skilled stroke of Melisandre’s fingers in her smooth hollows.
Her armpits were definitely a very sensitive area for Ellaria to say the least. Just light stroking was enough to make her thrash and wail laughter. She could remember how not many young men had lived to bask in the experience of pinning her down and tormenting her smooth underarms when she was a young woman. Dornish men knew the tales of her ruthlessness and cunning now and didn’t dare try to sneak tickles in on her for fear of retaliation. But now the red-haired priestess was having her way with Ellaria’s underarms, despite her panic-ridden threats and there was nothing she could do about it.
Littlefinger: “I think you’ll find that calling me king will be easier than you first thought, my little sand queen. And save you a lot of unwanted attention, I promise you.”
Melisandre: “It would be wise to do as he suggests. Your poor underarms seem to be giving you a lot of trouble.”
Ellaria: “HAHAHAHAHA!!! Never!! Get out of there!! Leave my underarms alone!!”
When Melisandre finally did stop tickling Ellaria, the Dornish queen’s chest was heaving from laughing so much. The women in the crowd were visibly upset by the spectacle. Little finger went down the line and stood in front of Daenerys.
She tried to look at him as if nothing could bother her. Littlefinger smirked at her and said, “Ah the famous Daenerys Targaryen. My little birds tell me you’ve been through quite a lot already to get to Westeros. But rest assured, you’ll go through a whole lot more if you don’t set your pride aside and announce me as your king.” Daenerys raised her eyebrows in an unamused manner and then replied, “It is YOU who are mistaken for I am Daenerys Targaryen, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, Breaker of Chains, rightful heir of teeeheeheheeehee!!”
Daenerys was caught off guard as Melisandre slid her fingernails into her armpits and began wiggling them playfully. The silver-haired queen was soon giggling and laughing beyond her control as she failed to finish listing her string of titles. Daenerys’ adorable smile was beaming as she laughed and twisted involuntarily while her underarms were being exploited by skilled hands.
Missandei watched from the crowd with a furrowed brow of concern. She hated watching her queen laugh and squeal like a fool. Her queen had always been so strong. How could something as silly and childish like tickling affect her so? But then Missandei recalled how Daenerys would react sometimes when she bathed her. Whenever she scrubbed the soapy cloth over certain areas of Daenerys’ body, the queen would jump or tense up. She was very particular about how she wanted to be washed. Missandei had to use a very gentle touch around her bellybutton and feet.
Daenerys shifted around and tried to pull her hands down out of the holes but to no avail. Melisandre continued wiggling her long fingernails gently and relentlessly over Daenerys’ completely smooth armpits. “Mother of Dragons? You sound more like the Mother of Giggles when I do this, my little queen,” Melisandre commented playfully as Daenerys giggled weakly and told her to stop.
After he felt he had made his point by making Daenerys laugh uncontrollably in front of the crowd, Littlefinger motioned for Melisandre to move on. They both approached Margaery, who was locked in the middle of the group. Her sleeveless dress exposed her bare underarms. She swallowed hard and looked at Littlefinger intently with her big doe eyes. Melisandre rested her pointy fingernails softly against Margaery’s smooth hollows and waited. Margaery tensed and told Littlefinger that this was no way to treat a proper lady.
Littlefinger chuckled and replied, “Would a proper lady plot to poison her husband on their wedding day?” Melisandre took her cue and began skittering her fingernails across Margaery’s sleek underarms, making the beauty burst into laughter and giggles. Margaery’s laughter was absolutely adorable as she wiggled and twisted to move her underarms away from Melisandre’s cruel nails.
Margaery: “Hahahahaha!! This is pointless, Littlefinger! Hahahaha!! This doesn’t change the fact that eeehehehehe!! That I should be the next Queen of Westeros!! Heheheheheee!!”
Littlefinger: “Well if this doesn’t change anything, then you won’t mind if my priestess keeps tickling you a little more.”
Margaery continued to laugh and squirm as Melisandre played in her armpits. The stunning brunette was well-endowed and her lovely breasts almost shook free from her dress as she writhed from side to side. Many of the women in the crowd were Tyrell supporters and they hated to watch Highgarden’s most prized lady being subjected to such bizarre torment. It seemed quite degrading to see her laugh and whine uncontrollably just from somebody scratching at her underarms.
Next up was Sansa. The red-headed leader of Winterfell had been dreading her turn after watching the other women go before her. Sansa hoped to the gods that Littlefinger still cared about her enough to spare her the torment. Her underarms were horribly ticklish. She didn’t know if she could take being restrained like this and feeling the terrible touch of fingers in one of her most sensitive spots. “Littlefinger, please! You have to listen to reason!”
Littlefinger seemed emotionless. “No, my dear Sansa. The time for reason has passed. Now all I want to listen to is the sound of your laughter.” With a nod of his head, Sansa jumped to life as she felt Melisandre’s fingernails dancing across her smooth, pale armpits. Sansa was quite nervous about how the tickling would feel and had been perspiring slightly, making her underarms a little moist to the touch.
Sansa had been nervous for good reason; her armpits were easily one of her most sensitive areas. She cackled and shouted laughter like crazy as Melisandre pressed on. The nails flicked lightly over and over in her naked underarms. Sansa could barely form words to tell Littlefinger to stop as she giggled and laughed like mad. Melisandre raised her eyebrows with amusement. She was barely tickling her all that intensely but her reactions were great.
Melisandre: “Not very becoming for a strong Lady of Winterfell, don’t you agree? You’ll never be fit to rule the Seven Kingdoms with such sensitive armpits, my dear.”
Sansa: “HAHAHAHAHA!!! NO!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!! NOT THERE!!”
Brienne had to hold Arya back in the crowd. How could they do this to her sister? Make her laugh like some little girl when it was clearly driving her crazy? Arya wanted to kill them all. Brienne too felt the hot hatred toward Sansa’s tormentors but had to be realistic. There was no way they would even touch Littlefinger right now without weapons. She and Arya would be cut down in no time.
Littlefinger finally arrived at Cersei. She looked cool and collected but her eyes were filled with a murderous rage. Littlefinger knew he would enjoy watching Cersei reduced to nothing more than a giggling mess in the days to come. Through nearly gritted teeth, Cersei threatened what would happen if he did not let her go immediately.
Littlefinger snapped his fingers and Melisandre shut Cersei up by frantically tickling her underarms. Cersei tried to hold in her laughter as tightly as she could but it quickly slipped out through her growls and grunts. Cersei burst into loud, frustrated laughter as Melisandre attacked her vulnerable pits. The bratty Lannister beauty clearly had very ticklish underarms. She thrashed and laughed wildly even though she was trying her best to yell curses.
Littlefinger: “Do you recall what you said to me several years ago, Cersei? Power. Is. Power. And right now, it’s clear that I have power over you. Your time as ruler is over. You’ll be my tickle slave until you agree to serve me.”
Cersei couldn’t stand to have someone touch her underarms. Her twin brother, Jaime, used to pin her arms above her head when they were lying naked in bed together. He was one of the few men who didn’t care about her threats. He thought it was funny how worked up he could get her; it made their love making afterward that much more intense. Jaime would take his time and stroke her naked armpits for an entire afternoon as she screamed and begged him to stop. He only gave her a break when he wanted to kiss her passionately between attacks. When he would finally let her free, Cersei would immediately climb on top of him and fuck him until she shuddered with an orgasm. Cersei longed for his touch but remembered how agonizing the tickling used to be.
Littlefinger relished the sight of Cersei shaking and laughing like a mad woman. It really was like watching a caged lion being prodded. Her frustrated growling and grunts were clear indicators of how awful the tickling was for her.
After Cersei had been given a good dose of tickle torture in front of her former subjects, Littlefinger turned and addressed the crowd of women. “Now for all of you ladies of the court...you’ve seen what happens to women that try to deny my claim to the Iron Throne. None of you supported me when I was rallying my forces. But it seems the game of thrones is always changing things. Before I accept any oaths of fealty from you, I have something else in order...”
TO BE CONTINUED...
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