“Betrayal, so many betrayals,” thought the silver queen as she walked out of the House of the Undying and gazed upon the great City of Qarth. The city looked as gorgeous as ever in the morning sun. Though it still slept, the white marble streets that ran its length and width shone like new fall snow under the rising sun. But Daenerys Stormborn was in no mood for such beauty. To her, the greatest city that ever was or will be had been revealed to her to be a city of lies and broken promise. A revelation that drove her to decide that before she was done within its walls, those marble street would be redder than the three-headed dragons of the Targaryen Sigil.

Xaro Xoan Daxos has pulled what is left of Qarth’s armed forces back to the wall of his palace, rightfully fearing an attempt on his life. “All the better,” thought Daenerys. “I don’t want to go hunting for laggards after I’ve sacked this city.” Together, she and her Khalasar moved through the palace grounds, silencing the guards before any had a chance to scream. Then the horde moved through the guards as they slept in their barracks, slicing throats before anyone opened their eyes. The work was done in less than an hour, for no matter how small and frail Daenerys’ Khalasar was, they are Dothrakis, and no milk men could stand in their way.

It was nearly noon when the two traitors were brought before her. Xaro was weeping, perhaps for real for once, but Doreah looked mostly unharmed except for a red palm print on her face and some blood beneath her nails. Xaro was dressed in his sleep clothes while Doreah was in a Qartheen gown, and just like the one Daenerys was wearing, the gown left the left breast bare for all to admire. The Dothraki who brought them here bore some scratches to his face. “Still got some fight in you,” thought the Silver Queen.

With great effort, Xaro recollected himself, and correctly judging his situation, he started speaking carefully. “Most glorious Queen, what has led you to stain your hands with such bloodshed? What evil has clouded your most radiant heart? What misunders —”

But Daenerys had heard more than she could stomach of the merchant’s falsehoods. She cut him off with ice in her voice. “ENOUGH! I trusted you! Put myself, my men, and my dragons in your care, and you betrayed me. I would take your lying tongue but I want no more of it, so instead, I shall take your head.” And so with a single flash of her Arakh, the weeping head of Xaro rolled off his shoulder, leaving a trail of blood before coming to rest at the Khaleesi’s feet.

Daenerys took a moment to collect herself. She had killed before, by order and by her own bare hands, but she had yet to become accustomed to it. She didn’t like it, if truth be told, least of all when the person in question is someone she once trusted. If nothing else, her killing someone was a sign that something had gone wrong. But now the time for mercy was over. They had betrayed her and they must pay the price. They woke the dragon and the dragon demands blood.

As Daenerys’ eyes wandered off to Doreah, her former friend, confidant, and lover, her heart softened, and her eyes watered. She wanted to scream at her, to claw the girl’s face for betraying her, to know why she did it, but feared what answer she might find. So instead of just passing another death sentence, she asked. “Why? Why did you betray me? Why you of all people? I trusted you. You were there for me when I first married Drogo. You were there for me when my sun and stars rode away. We even … comforted each other in the harshest time in the Red Waste. Why!? Why would you betray me?!!”

The prisoner said nothing. She merely looked defiantly at the Queen, and as Daenerys’ purple eyes met those sparkling blue ones, she saw something she did not expect to see — she saw rage. The presence of the such contesting fury further angered the queen. How dare she be angry? She should be on her knees begging for mercy! What right did she have to be angry after what she’d done? Enraged, the silver queen opened her lips to whisper the death sentence, but just before death could escape Daenerys’ mouth, Doreah spoke, without remorse or regret, but with defiance.

“I hear that in your Kingdom there is something called trial by combat. Well, I here stand accused of a crime and challenge you to face me. That is if you aren’t too afraid to find out who the better woman is?”

“Better woman?” There was disbelief in Daenerys’ voice, but also a slight tremble of anger and excitement. “Is this what this whole betrayal is about? You think you are somehow a better woman than me? That you somehow you deserve all this and I don’t? Is this why you tried to take what is rightfully mine?”

The handmaiden did not speak but her crystal blue eyes, ever defiant spoke clear enough. That was all the answer Daenerys needed.

For a moment Daenerys considered her options. A small part of her want to just kill the girl and pull her insolent, lying tongue out, but a larger part of her wanted to accept the challenge. To discipline this girl with her own bare hands, to hear her scream under her body, to feel those breasts pressed against hers and to cum together one last time. Then, with her nipples erect and her cunt watering beneath her clothes, she knew the decision was made.

“Ser Jorah, see that the vault is emptied and prepare three days of food and water. For two. I want it ready now. And do NOT presume to advise me on this, my mind is made up. And you, you self-righteous whore, you shall have your challenge, though you shall not like what comes next.” It was then, that  almost as an afterthought, she added to her orders. “And grab that ebony box I have on my bedside.”

It only took 15 minutes for the vault and food to be readied. The vault, legendary as it was, was built and bolstered by heavy Valerian stone, a material so hard that no blade could scratch it. The lock one of such intricate design that the vault door could be only opened by a specially crafted key. The vault was fairly large, more than enough room for two to battle, though not nearly enough room for anyone to escape or hide.

The two girls stepped into that darkness — that cage of stone, silence, and strangling isolation, their erect nipples trembling in the cold air. Behind them, with a loud thud, the vault door closed, engulfing the two in complete darkness. Darkness like neither girl had ever seen or experienced. No light. Not even the rumor of it. Oppressive would be a statement of insulting value when compared to how the very sight of it, or lack thereof made Daenerys and Doreah feel. It was fearsome. Terrifying. “3 days!” they thought to themselves as they walked deeper into the vault, Daenerys’ left hand found Doreah’s right, a final moment of truce before the start of their private duel. The irony of relying on each other to stay together in order to reach their battleground was not lost on them, glaring at each other through the darkness and down their linked arms. As they settled into their pitch black battlefield, they walked together, hand in hand as hateful guides to one another.

That connection allowed them to lead each other to what they assumed to be the center of the vault before stopping and turning into each other. They could just barely recognize each other’s’ shapes, but Doreah heard the sound of shifting clothes. Doreah took it as her cue to shed all but her thin down, alone and vulnerable with her former friend and mistress. They didn’t look into each others eyes or try to intimidate, but because the time had come for the body of one to press into the body of the other.

“You were truly foolish to accept this challenge, Daenerys. I had thought I had taught you better,” Doreah said matter-of-factly as the two women released each other’s hands. They instead reached to the others biceps, to pull them their chests forward into each other. Each allowed then their breasts to rest lightly on the others, their hard nipples poking into their rival’s flesh.

“And you were foolish to betray me, Doreah. I would have taken you with me to Westeros. To the Iron Throne. I would have given you land, and a title. I would have kept you as a most trusted advisor. Someone I cared for more deeply than I can even describe.” Clearly Daenerys had laid out what she had intended for the traitorous brunette, even if Doreah was unable to see how every word caused her face to contort with anger.

“This! This is why I betrayed you! ‘You will take me…. You will give me….” Doreah said with disgust, just before she spit in Daenerys’ silver-framed face. “You are not my better. You should not be able to give me anything. I will take what I deserve and would have had if not for your childish quest for that throne of yours. You are just that scared little girl I taught to please a savage. No more. No less.”

As Doreah’s spit slid down Daenerys’ face, the Targaryen tried desperately to control her anger, her body shaking, even in the hands of her tormentor. But as rage was devoured by resolve, Daenerys tightened her grip on her rival’s biceps, and pulled Doreah forward, smashing their bodies together. Once locked into such close quarters, she replied. “I am so much more than I was then. So much more than you know and can aspire to be. And now I will show you, you ungrateful backstabbing whore.” With that and no more, Daenerys leaned forward and locked her lips to Doreah’s.

At first, the brunette handmaiden refused to play along or kiss back, keeping her lips closed, and stiffening her spine at her former Queen’s touch. After only the briefest of moments, that resistance faded, and then in acceptance of Daenerys’ challenge. Doreah’s lips parted, and her grip upon the Targaryen tightened. They attacked with an aggressive passion, even knowing that they would be engaged with their contest for days. While there would be no one to enforce their promise to use sex as their only weapon, their anger and pride were enough to make them keep their word.

Daenerys was the first to invade her opponent’s mouth, brushing Doreah’s lips open before sliding her tongue inside them. Doreah was surprised but not caught off guard. She had engaged in more than her share of intimacy with her fellow harlots, whether for pleasure or coin, and she wasn’t about to be outdone by her childish student. She tongue flexed and pushed to one side, parrying and pinning Daenerys inside her own mouth and flexing her mouth to rub against it.

Daenerys gave a low but hard grunt, focusing herself around any notion of arousal for now. Her outrage remained at the front of her mind, though whether it would maintain her rage for all three days was yet to be seen. She had the edge of being involved in more proper duels and brawls than Doreah, and some of them sexfights. They both knew their way around a woman’s body, even in the dark, but aggression would be a powerful asset for Daenerys. She pushed herself harder into Doreah, their naked breasts grinding together as her teacher was forced back a few paces before she could regain her footing. Daenerys smiled slyly against her former friend’s mouth, a brief surge of confidence surging through her to have made the first step towards victory.

Doreah escalated thing with the first thrust of her hips. Her pelvis slapped against Daenerys’, initiating the first clash of their lower halves. The fabric of their gowns tangled feebly with each other as Daenerys met the challenge head on, grinding her snatch back into her foe through their thin clothing. The first exciting sensations stirred in their nethers as each woman braced against the familiar body of their foe. Privates were shared along with assorted flesh and early cold sweats, the abyss of a chamber echoing with their small grunts and gasps to amplify their every little sound.

“You’re still the pathetic little girl I always knew you were.” Doreah broke her kiss to taunt her old companion, her bitter words filling up the darkness and Daenerys’ head. “Your hip-work is sloppy. You fuck as miserably as you lead.”

Daenerys let out a short, hissing breath before biting Doreah’s lower lip instead of trying to rip her throat out. “As if I’d believe anything coming from a dragon-stealing traitor,” the Dothraki leader growled, moving her hands to firmly caress the sides of Doreah’s breasts. “You sound like a sore loser who knows she’s about to fail at her own challenge. Well there’s no escaping this now, teacher,” she added bitterly.

“Then I hope your men won’t lose heart when they find their queen passed out and stewing in her own juices.” Doreah held onto Daenerys’ hips to keep her steady as she advanced with her upper body. Her hardening nipples rammed into Daenerys while her mouth kissed aggressive, trying to advance with every part of her body. Daenerys held her ground even as her body was stimulated by the strange mixture of hatred, arousal and admiration.

Doreah had every reason to fight, not the least of which was her life being at stake. She quickly learned that she couldn’t discount the wrath of the furious Daenarys. The pale-haired opponent slid one of her legs forward, pressing her knee into Doreah’s crotch. Her handmaiden was tense enough to give a short gasp, but she was far to sexually experienced to succumb to just that. Daenarys seemed perfectly aware of that and pushed her breasts back into Doreah’s, knocking her teacher back a step. Her ankle tangled with Daenarys’ advanced footing, forcing her to go tumbling to the floor. Daenarys was quick to lunge after her, mounting her mentor and aggressively snaking her hands under the top of her dress to roughly squeeze her breasts.

Doreah inhaled sharply, but glared back at her as she slid her hands up Daenarys’ gown to grasp her around the thighs. Her thumbs brushed the edges of the fair-haired woman’s labia, sparking memories of the nights when they had spent together in the same position during better times. Her privates ignored the wants of her mind and her petals parted easily against Doreah’s touch.

“You always were a slut for riding on top,” Doreah hissed, sweeping her hands up along Daenarys’ thighs and privates. It wasn’t enough to lift her, but certainly not gentle as she used more firm a hand than she would with a conventional lover.

Daenarys hissed through her teeth, her former teacher and companion very well-informed about her weaknesses as well as her erogenous zones. While Daenarys refused to cum for a treacherous thief, her anatomy spoke for itself. She leaned on Doreah’s chest, squeezing and lightly pulling at her tender breasts rather than bend to her opponent’s attempt to control the pace of their competition. This would go on for three days, she thought. There was no reason to race to the finish in the first hour.

Doreah pressed two fingers inside her former student, flexing and hooking them to press up against her clitoris. Daenarys visibly tensed her hips and back, trying to avoid the direct sexual attack without fully pulling away. Her pride kept her from retreating from this long-awaited duel, but she also didn’t want to interrupt their engagement by having to fumble through the darkness to find each other again. Even while she was growing wet and losing her momentum against her, their intimate embrace was the best approach for both of them.

With her opponent unwilling to truly avoid her, Doreah quickly took control of Daenarys’ body. Her fingers cornered her accuser’s clit and stroked until she was overflowing with warm juices. Daenarys roughly pulled at Doreah’s gown, exposing and further exciting Doreah before she was forced to succumb to her talented fingers. Daenarys’ sharp and sudden moan sounded even louder in the darkness, and Doreah could feel her vibrate against her skin.

“Still a slow learner and an easy lay,” Doreah taunted as she shoved Daenarys in her chest. Her mistress and student fell off and landed between her legs, Doreah having little reason to treat her kindly now that she had just cum. She would need her to cool down a bit before she could properly arouse her again, and it wasn’t as if she could make her punishment any worse.

“Awfully smug for a rented whore,” Daenarys growled, rubbing between her legs to soothe her pulsing crotch. She could track her heartbeat by the throbbing of her clit. It was all the more reason that Doreah was surprised when Daenarys caught her by the leg. She had expected a break of her own, but the student forced her teacher into a scissoring position, even with her overworked snatch.

Doreah sniffed dismissively as she glared back at her. Daenerys repositioned her legs, bracing her feet on the dusty floor that was now damp with her cum. She pressed her hips forward with a practiced angle, their legs locking together as they had on and off again for years.

“Not your strongest position either,” Doreah commented, but she shivered as Daenerys slid a smooth but firm stroke of her womanhood up the length of the guiding whore’s.

“You may have taught me every trick you know,” Daenerys noted grimly, her level tone bearing just as much cold hatred as any sneer or growl. “But you didn’t teach me everything that I know.”

Doreah planted her palms against the ground to mount her own defensive tribbing against Daenerys, but the conqueror had already had an orgasm. While it had made her more sensitive, she’d at least experienced some release from the pressure. Her focused attack on Doreah’s chest had her primed and eager for Daenerys’ touch.

Their grunts joined together to fill the darkness as they matched their womanhoods directly. Doreah pushed firmly at Daenerys’ gown, folding them up for easier access to her hated pupil. Even as she ran her hands over Daenerys’ thighs, she felt no remorse for her decision. Daenerys was mad with power and would only doom herself if she carried on, killing more and more along the way. She would go on her mad march across the land, slaughtering sleeping cities and conquering in pursuit of her legend until someone put a stop to her. If she didn’t defy her now, she’d die by her side on a hopeless quest. At least this way she had a chance to save her own life on top of shaming her old student.

“I’ll just have to fuck some humility into you,” Doreah hissed as she started timing her thrusts to go best aroused Daenerys, one more means of defying her. “Everyone else is afraid of you, but in here, you have no dragons and no army. They think you’re a monster, but I know you’re just a scared little girl under her bedsheets, hiding in the dark and hoping nobody finds out what you really are.”

Daenerys’ breathing grew deeper, whether out of arousal or anger. “It must speak volumes of you, then,” the light-haired royal hissed back. “Sold to said child and then hiding behind her until you could try to stab her in the back.” Daenerys thrust back, her strong pelvis driving Doreah’s hips an inch back across the floor. Daenerys wrapped her hands around the traitor’s legs, lifting them higher to leave the hired whore’s opening raised and easier to access. Doreah bit her lip and groaned as the peak of Daenerys’ labia slid in between her parted pussy.

Daenerys could feel Doreah trying to retreat, but held in place by her hands. It wasn’t the jerky reactions of fear that Daenerys hoped for, but an attempt at a strategic withdrawl. Daenerys dug her nails into the soft flesh of her former comrade’s hips and thrust harder, doggedly pursuing the show of weakness. Her initiative had landed her in the perfect position to fuck the traitor until she was softly moaning in rapid succession. Daenerys was tempted to drive her womanhood into her rival with the force of a blade, but she kept herself in check. She reminded herself of how long they would be touching each other in this darkness. She would have plenty time for that over the next 3 days.

She felt Doreah tense just before she released a short gasp, a sharp shudder, and a pulse of warm, wet fluid against Daenerys’ loins. Doreah’s cum ran down her thighs as she flashed a smirk at the darkness, though the treacherous aide seemed to know it was there.

“You underestimated me,” Daenerys said sternly, burying a surge of confidence. “Not many have survived such an action.”

Doreah scoffed softly. “You were always so far up your own ass,” she growled. “Give you the slightest bit of power and you think you own the world. It’s that kind of stupid arrogance that will cost you this duel and your flimsy army.”

Daenerys seethed and tried to press her tribbing attack, but Doreah caught one of her legs and turned her to her side. There was no impressing this woman. She tamed dragons and learned under her for years, and still Doreah only showed her insults and treachery. “Fine! If executing is the only way there is to get your respect, I’ll grant your request!”

Daenerys and Doreah continued through the night, rolling about and clinging to each other desperately. There came short bouts where they fell apart and had to find each other once again, but for the most part they remained stuck to each other’s flesh in some way. Any position one ended up in, the other countered with their own approach. When Doreah managed to get her mouth on Daenerys’ pussy, she would skillfully pivot to turn it into a 69. When Daenerys forced her into her lap and reached around her belly to finger her, Doreah bent her leg around to slip her toes into her. Both women were relentless in their pursuit of the other’s orgasms, rewarded again and again by the sweet nectar of the loser. Even tracking each other’s sexual submissions closely, neither went more than a single point ahead of the other.

They were both tiring out, but like proud beasts they refused to show any weakness. They had each cum a half dozen times with no rest, and Doreah’s tongue felt dry and weary much like her own. The first distinct sign, however, came when Doreah got the upper hand on her. She’d evaded an attempted grapple from Daenerys, pinning her on her chest. Doreah stuffed her fingers into the conqueror’s ass and pussy, stimulating both of the freshly-used and overly sensitive holes. Daenerys emitted several loud but weak grunts, something that Doreah mistook as sheer pleasure as her spirit started to break. It was a struggle with her body, but as soon as she felt the pale-haired woman orgasm, it was followed by a continued stream of hot liquid. Doreah hesitated before withdrawing her hand, the distinctly repellent smell clinging to both of their skin. The secure vault now carried a faint but permanently nauseating stench from Daenerys’ release, but she used the moment to drag herself away from Doreah.

The two fighters took in heavy, weary breaths as they seemed to reevaluate their situation. Taking a moment to rest seemed to allow Daenerys’ body to catch up to her. The fatigue throbbed in her muscles and her stomach growled, being caught up in their struggle for what may have very well been half a day by now. “Let’s break out the food,” Daenerys decided, feeling around behind her while doing her best to avoid the fresh puddles.

“Is your fat ass hungry already?” Doreah jabbed, but she moved in closer to accept the idea. The line would have been dismissed as a friendly joke only a few days ago, but was now a petty but stinging barb. Her own belly rumbled to force her to succumb to her base needs, much like her privates had compelled her to cum.

Daenerys broke off the bread and a jug of water for Doreah, holding it out until she fumbled and found it. They still couldn’t quite see, something that didn’t help with Daenerys’ racing heartbeat. She kept feeling that she saw movement, as if Doreah’s motions were disturbing the darkness like a liquid.

“Why?” Daenerys demanded, her voice hoarse until she took a drink. “Why now, and why Xaro?”

“I don’t answer to you anymore,” Doreah replied curtly.

Daenerys gave a dismissive snort. “What else are you going to do while you’re in here when you’re not cumming like a used-up whore?”

Doreah gave a low growl through her mouthful, swallowing it noisily. “Because you were finally and truly out of your mind with power. And because it would hurt and weaken you.”

“Then you underestimate what it takes to truly hurt me. How like you.”

“Or you’ve proven my point and gone as mad as every other heartless inbred ruler; eating in your own filth-streaked vault.”

Daenerys wolfed down the rest of her meal. “I think I’m done eating.”

“Just a moment.” There was a distinct trickling sound in the darkness for around a minute before Doreah could be heard stepping aside from her own leavings. “I’m ready.”

The women continued to duel in the dark, moving to their knees and grinding their bodies together. They went on for hours more, stroking, groping, kissing and licking their enemy. Their stalemate remained, going blow for sexual blow in their competition. They started to find themselves facing a second opponent in their own instincts. Their bodies would try to recoil from attempting more sexuality, leaving Doreah and Daenerys to mentally convince themselves that their clits weren’t throbbing and their muscles weren’t exhausted. The overworking of their bodies was causing them to lose focus, giving weak and needy moans more frequently.

“Feeling weak already?” Daenerys taunted. It was hard to gauge the time properly, but they must have gone well into the night by now. It was too dark to read the silver-haired girl’s own tired features, but they had laid down face to crotch on either side of each other, spitting insults in between deep, probing licks.

“Perhaps you’re just boring me. Is this how you managed to end up with a dead husband?” Doreah taunted venomously, even if she immediately returned to sliding her lips over her foe’s labia and slipping her tongue in along her clitoris.

“Is this why you were never good enough to get a husband at all?” Daenerys spat right back. Her hips spasmed as another orgasm approached. While Daenerys knew she was better than her teacher (or at least hoped hard enough to fool herself), Doreah was no slouch in terms of sexual prowess. She had lost count of just how many she’d gone through. It was perhaps a dozen by now. All that mattered was that she was tied with Doreah. She only kept track of how far ahead and behind she was to her at any given time; ahead by one or behind by one. She was still dedicated to fighting for every inch of her lead by probing every inch of Doreah’s body, cupping Doreah’s ass and rubbing her thumb along her anus.

The women breathed heavily, their tongues too invested in their oral attacks to focus on their verbal assault. They both felt their orgasms building quickly and wanted to break their latest tie. Doreah felt lightheaded, but used every spare breath or motion of her lips to hiss another insult, even if it was drown out by her hated lover’s pussy. Even with the bitter taste of their various releases, the ladies buried tongues and lips deep into their enemy. Daenerys’ renewed efforts were draining what scarce strength she had left, but Doreah was starting to twitch just as badly. The more experienced whore sputtered against her pussy, emitting a few last minute curses and threats that vanished in her work on her student’s pussy. There was an intense moment as they both froze for a half second. Doreah screamed in unwanted pleasure as she squirted into Daenerys’ face. Her shout was cut off as a the conquering royal suddenly suffered an orgasm of her own, her body rattling and clinging to her foe’s to try to steady herself.

Tears and saliva ran down their faces as the forced relief washed over them. They had no grasp of how long they had been down here beyond the single meal they’d forced themselves to eat. Daenerys felt every muscle give out, fatigue and afterglow stealing her strength and drive. She felt lightheaded from all this overexertion, flopping back and breathing heavily. She tried to listen for Doreah’s approach to try to finish her, but the only sounds she heard from her former friend and teacher’s were sobs and moans. Daenerys let out a small sigh of relief, which seemed to be all she needed to drop over the edge and into an exhausted sleep.

Doreah woke groggily. She had collapsed and fallen asleep, her body overriding her hatred and forcing her to follow her most biological needs. She was slow to rise, but the smell was the first thing to hit her. She cringed and pulled back from the mess that brushed against her skin. Biological needs indeed.

“The vault is still closed,” Daenerys reminded her. She was still breathless and unsteady, suggesting she had just woken up herself. A faint splashing showed that she had discovered the same disturbing wakeup call as Doreah but quickly brushed it off. “The contest is still on.”

“If you insist, I’m glad to oblige,” Doreah replied, following the sound of her former mistress and student’s voice while trying to maneuver around the newly formed puddle of filth. “I’ve been teaching you for years, so I can impart another harsh lesson before I go.”

The women slid along the ground, not bothering to rise when they’d end up on the floor again soon enough. Reaching out with her foot, Doreah felt her toes make contact with Daenerys’ inner thigh. Her leg lashed out like a snake, feeling Daenerys’ leg reach for the same target on her to catch up for the second or two of difference. The knockout had been jarring to them both, so they were desperate to seize any slight edge they could find. They squirmed to try to make themselves as difficult a target as possible, though this proved especially difficult when they were this close and fumbling in the dark. Daenerys managed to stuff some of her toes at the edges of Doreah’s nether lips, pushing them apart to push her middle toes into her overworked clitoris. Doreah had wedged her big toe inside of Daenerys in her initial thrust, adjusting her foot to run up and down inside her like a paintbrush.

The girls were rested, but they had passed out orgasming. Their initial orgasms still haunted them, and even the blind, rough mutual footfucking was quickly arousing them. Daenerys tried to up the game by reaching out with her other foot, rubbing Doreah’s breasts and pinching her nipples between her toes, but the advantage was already hers. Daenerys let out a choking gasp as she shivered violently, cumming once again into the slick and stinking floor of their private battlefield.

Daenerys was feeling overwhelmed. Even with her recent, uneasy rest, she felt her head spinning and her loins aching. It all combined with the revolting smell of the room and finally broke through her confident facade. Daenerys turned her head and vomited noisily to one side, Doreah flashing her a smirk in the dark.

“I take it you’re ready to give up then? You could stand to surrender a bit more often. Maybe then you wouldn’t be chasing these foolish fairy tales and overexerting your power.”

The barbed taunt only drove Daenerys on. She threw herself bodily at Doreah, tackling into her and uncaring as they landed in something wet and disturbingly soft. The dark kept them from ever knowing for sure apart from the fact that it reeked like nothing else in such confined quarters. Doreah shuddered with revulsion, but she clawed for purchase on Daenerys’ body all the same. They fought against hate and disgust alike to arouse their opponent while also drawing from them to resist their advances. Daenerys caught a grip on Doreah’s hair, pulling on the back of her head to hold her steady on her knees.

Doreah grabbed a handful of silver locks for herself, but it was as much to hold herself up as it was to hold her opponent. The fatigue was making all of this more difficult for them. Muscles ached and stomachs churned from hunger and other unsettling sensations. Sweat ran from their skin and their thighs and privates were soaked from countless prior orgasms. Daenerys propped Doreah up against her, breast to breast and then spreading her legs to press their crotches together, grinding up and down like she was pleasuring herself against a mirror. Even close enough to feel Doreah’s breath on her skin, Daenerys couldn’t properly make out her betrayer’s face. She had seen Doreah cum and pleasure herself so often that she certainly had something to imagine, pressing her attack by kissing at her lips and neck. Even as their filth stuck to their skin, even when Doreah had to freeze to wretch and spit up next to them, neither wanted to concede and be the one to back down from their life or death sexfight.

Doreah had been caught off guard and wound up from their footwork, but even then this round drew itself out longer than the rest. They had to rely on long, sharp strokes of their body, unable to maintain anything too quick or rapid. The slow tribbing ultimately whittled down Doreah until she released everything she had from her pussy. The fresh stink hit their nostrils, both of them taking Daenerys’ latest score as an excuse to pull back out of the disgusting heap.

“You are disgusting… shameless,” Doreah hissed, fumbling as she felt her arm thump against a wall. She leaned on it, only to hear Daenerys do the same not far off. They must have ended up in a corner to be so close and both against a wall.

“Says the rented whore turned traitor,” Daenerys laughed back at her. “I’m sure you’ve done worse in your old pigsty of a brothel. Anything for a coin, right?” Both women caught their breath as Doreah reached out to fumble at the ground. Sure enough, it was the corner where Daenerys had stashed the food. She opened the box and felt something metallic inside, but too smooth and clean to be a knife. She ignored it as she grabbed a few pieces of meat cheese, clumsy enough to be easily heard. Daenerys briefly brushed her filthy hand with her own, taking the food and carefully trying to keep it clean from the rest of the room as they took another break to eat. The stench of the room made them eat more gingerly, but they still needed their strength.

“I offered you more than this,” Daenerys finally said between mouthfuls. “You were a handmaiden and a whore. You were a teacher, but I made you my friend. You could have stood beside me and lived better than half the nobles in the strongest kingdoms.” She took as deep a breath as she dared in their filthy chamber. “Why, Doreah?”

Her treacherous friend sighed lowly. It was growing late. Was this their third day? Second? Maybe Doreah had slept more briefly than they thought and it was still the first. The point was that win or lose, she would likely never see Daenerys again after this. “I was your friend, once. You were a good student and a good woman. Then you started… growing. You grew stronger and you gained followers. Soldiers and monsters, and they changed you. You aren’t the Daenerys I met. You’re cold, mad, and inhuman. You say I could live like a noble, but that’s the problem. You forget the times when you were humble. You’ve become just like the rest of them.”

Daenerys paused, seemingly hurt by the comment. She had always valued Doreah as a confidant and a source of advise. She had based so much of her life off of her, relying on her for relief in the harshest of times. The low times that she now claimed that she had forgotten. Daenerys scoffed at her. “I forget, you say? I remember all too well. Those are the times that made me, Doreah. They made me what I am. I saw what the world had to offer, and I decided I’d had enough. I’m going to change it. I’m going to make the world listen and behave, even if I have to beat it into submission like a misbehaving child. I’ll fix it… it’s a shame you won’t be around to see it.” Daenerys paused a moment to gulp down some of her flask of water, noisily smacking her lips. “I mean that. I really do.” There was the dull thud of her tossing the drink aside and sliding up with the help of the wall to support her shaky legs. “Now let’s finish this. You’re on your last leg.”

“If I’m on my last, you don’t have one left to stand on,” Doreah snorted back. With that off their chests, the air was cleared between them. Motives on the table, they approached to finish each other off. Each leaned an arm against their steadying wall as they pressed their damp and sticky bodies together. Hands went right for swollen privates, stroking their dirtied hips in a refusal to yield to their various handicaps. Doreah squeezed and sucked on one of Daenerys’ breasts, ignoring the smell of her own vomit on her student’s skin. Daenerys roughly fingered Doreah, relying on her fingers over her hips as she forced the traitor into a kiss. They pushed back and forth, trying to get the better angle to take the lead. They had tied with their last orgasm, and it would not stand to leave the other with the advantage. Doreah would push into Daenerys and pin her against the wall, humping her against it as her ass flattened against the cool stone. She didn’t have the strength to maintain it, soon leaning on the silver-haired conqueror until she rolled over and pinned her instead. They rolled back and forth, fingers darting and stroking like duelists with their dancing blades.

“Fuck… fuck…” Doreah hissed, legs twitching as she felt her control of her body slipping away. More fluids trickled out of her weakening lower body, but even that didn’t deter Daenerys from her attack. Doreah upped the stakes and ran her thumb into the dragon tamer’s asshole, adding one more distraction to her cause.

“No! Nooo, you dirty cunt!” Daenerys cursed, wincing as she tried to hold out. Her pussy clenched, trickling over Doreah’s fingers before she let out a loud, sharp gasp. She fell to her knees, shuddering in pain and overpowering pleasure as her sensitive snatch throbbed through another orgasm. Even as she fell, she dragged her fingers through Doreah’s opening, apparently just enough to draw another outburst of cum from her teacher. Doreah fell with a few curses of her own, confident for a split second that she’d stolen the lead. The two of them fell into their fresh mess of strong-smelling juices, breathing heavily side by side.

“You’re finished,” Doreah accused, her mind hazy with exhaustion and sensory overload. Her muscles periodically twitched on their own. She had seen soldiers and pit fighters after a drawn out fight, and she had to wonder if that same intense level of fatigue was what she was experiencing.

“That’s not for you to decide, you pathetic cunt,” Daenerys snapped back. She dragged herself clumsily through the rancid muck, grabbing the box once again. She opened it and withdrew the smooth objects that Doreah had felt before, but now she recognized the gentle clatter of chains in Daenerys’ shaky hands. “What’s a proper duel without weapons?”

Doreah hadn’t thought of the Flower of Lys as a weapon, but this was certainly a unique situation. The sex toys were a primitive form of what would eventually become a vibrator. Each one was a small ball with a series of springs and wheels inside, triggered by a chain that ran out of one end used to trigger it. The pull made the grinding of the gears vibrate inside a woman, an easy way to get off when fingers weren’t enough yet a lover wasn’t available. Daenerys tossed one to Doreah, but the continued clattering made clear that she had her own as well.

“Face to face. We tie the chains together and go until one of us can’t stand it anymore,” Daenerys spelled out, sitting herself on top of the Flower and tossing her length of chain out to Doreah.

Her teacher took the other end and fiddled with the last of the links to bind them together. It didn’t leave much slack, so the slightest moves would trigger the vibrations. Doreah mounted her own end of their joined toys and snorted dismissively as she rested her hands on Daenerys’ breasts. “It’s a shame I have to see your last orgasm in the pitch of darkness. I always loved how pathetic you looked when you finished.”

“At least I won’t have to see your ugly features twisting in that twisted knot you call a face.” Daenerys accented her insult by pulling back with her hips. The gesture yanked on their chains, pulling them apart and activating the clockwork insides of their Flowers. The grinding and growling of the sexual tools came a moment before both women gasped, starting their unsteady rhythm of thrusting and pulling back in time with the recoiling chains. The Flower of Lys did their jobs very well, and it took all that Daenerys had not to tumble off the device.

With their legs and hips doing the heavy lifting, the women still had their hands and lips free to arouse each other. Doreah cupped Daenerys’ breasts, lifting them while dragging her thumbs over her stiff nipples. Even in her desperation, Daenerys took her time stroking over Doreah’s neck and face, physically warming her up to her before digging her fingernails into the softened skin of her breasts or buttocks. All the while, the in and out of the chains and their corresponding gears went on like maddening reminders of the ambiguously passing time and their own increasing arousal.

With the vibrations going up through their bodies, gooseflesh started sprouting along their soiled skin. Daenerys ran her nails down Doreah’s skin, trying to vent her building lust on her opponent. The former whore gasped loudly, her body so sensitive that even the sting of her claws added to her arousal. She grabbed onto Daenerys’ ass, pulling her into her so that their breasts mashed together. Daenerys smacked her ass sharply, letting out her frustrations on Doreah’s backside. She returned the favor by pulling at her pale hair, breathing through gritted teeth as she drooled over Daenerys’ shoulder like a frothing animal. Their instincts ruled them all but their vow to use only sex against each other; Daenerys found her hazy mind focused on not simply biting the throat out of her weary and vulnerable rival. She wanted to destroy her more than kill her. She wanted to prove she could take more, give more. That she had overcome her teacher and had nothing more to learn from her. No more use for her.

Daenerys arched her back, thrusting out her stomach and chest at a slightly upward angle. Doreah gave a shrill cry, shaking violently enough that Daenerys wondered if she had succumb to another orgasm. If she had, it was too minute for her to stop, but enough that Doreah let out a low, breathy sob.

“Oh no… oh gods! Fuck… fuck… no…” Doreah panted in a witless plea.

“There’s no mercy for you now, traitor,” Daenerys replied in a low and weary voice. She still found a way to come across as perfectly cold and ruthless. “And no gods to help you in the dark.” She wrapped her arm around Doreah’s waist like a lover, feeling how weak and limp she felt in her loosely squeezing arms. Even freshly fed and right out of a short rest, but she was still falling quickly. Daenerys barely held herself together, focusing on the imminent victory and controlling her own body. Back and forth. Ride the rhythm while keeping track of Doreah’s motions. Force her to follow her lead, no matter how Doreah had rebelled and betrayed her guidance. Even when the former whore let out a long, high-pitched shout, Daenerys did not relent on her steady assault. Doreah would twitch and scream in her arms when she came again, the first of their orgasms starting an unrelenting chain. Even when Doreah felt too weak to push back, Daenerys just seized that much more control over the grinding of their dueling sex toys. Daenerys shivered through her own sudden release, but by then she had put Doreah through three. Even filthy with sweat and their less savory messes, Daenerys grinned. She had her old teacher on the proverbial ropes. When she finally gave one hard thrust, Daenerys finally held something like a satisfactory orgasm while releasing Doreah to fall on the filthy ground with last, dejected grunt.

“Is… is that all you’ve…” Danearys just trailed off, leaning on the wall and breathing heavily. She was finally too tired to berate her enemy, content enough in her latest lead. She expected some response from Doreah, but the Flower must have taken more out of her than Danearys had expected. She heard her soft and rapid breathing as she recovered from the orgasm, but that was all for the moment. With a faintly amused chuckle, Danearys slumped to the ground and joined her in unconsciousness.

Danearys came to. It took her a moment to realize that was the case when all she could see was pitch black. She unsteadily pushed herself up to her knees, picking up on the only other noise in the room. Doreah’s breathing came slowly in and out, sounding raspy but steady. “Doreah?” Danearys said more clearly. It wasn’t especially loud, but then again, there wasn’t anything else to hear in the chamber besides their breath. Doreah had to hear her if she was still conscious. Danearys forced herself to crawl closer, splashing softly through the assorted filth that had stained their sealed arena. She shoved Doreah’s prone body, but she didn’t move beyond what Danearys caused herself. Doreah was unconscious. Danearys had collapsed as well, but later than Doreah and had risen sooner. She had won, damning her former friend to execution. She laughed softly, though coughed when she caught too strong a whiff of their various leavings. She would need a bath when she was released. THEN the execution. There must have still been a few hours left, because she found herself alone with her unconscious friend and her time to reflect on her memories.

Darkness seemed to stretch on forever as Daenerys sat by the wall, waiting for the door to open or for Doreah to wake up. Which one she wanted more she was not sure. The air stank of cum, vomit and assorted types of filth, but she has gotten used to it by now. The floor was wet, both slippery and sticky, covered in something she preferred not to think about. Her body ached all over, most of all her cunt and her breasts that she had used to battle for the past three days. Or was it three years? Time had no meaning in darkness.

Her hand wandered to her swollen cunt as she thought for the hundredth time what to do when the door opens. She had defeated Doreah, if only by a thread, but still she has defeated her and proven herself to be the better woman. By right, Doreah should die. She didn’t even need to do it herself, she could just lock her in here and let her starve. An end fitting of a traitor. A part of her didn’t want to do that. Part of her kept going back to those nights they spent in each other in the Red Waste, to those times they spent on the Dothraki Sea, and to the past three days, filled with hate, anger, and pleasure.

Her thought was broken by a loud grinding noise as the vault door slid open, bathing the battlefield in afternoon sunlight. Trembling, Daenerys got to her feet whilst Doreah twitched on the filth-covered floor but remained unconscious. Then, for reasons she would never know, she knelt by the handmaiden’s side and whispered to her ear “Until next time.” As if the light had made it all clear to her, she asked the soldier for the vault’s key. When he showed it to his filthy leader, she nodded. “Good. Gather supplies for three more days. When the traitor wakes, give the supplies to her and let her leave unharmed. I’ve put her through enough myself.” She had done some soul searching in the darkness. She had decided that she couldn’t kill her old friend after all. She’d considered leaving her locked in the vault to die, just not by her hand, but that felt just as cruel. “Although…” Daenerys added as the guard started to leave for the supplies. “Should she ask, you are to deny her a bath.”

Daenerys limped away from the vault and dove headfirst into the pool, disregarding the shock and disgust of her people. After cleansing herself of the remnants of battle for a while, she issued her next command.

“Pack all the gold you can grab and get ready to leave on the evening tide. Sack this city completely dry.  I am finding mercy to be in short supply today, so if anyone resists you, kill them on the spot. We set sail for the sunset.”

And with that she floated whilst her people cheered, bathing in the cool water and the orange glow of the setting sun. There to the far west, the lands over which the sun now sets, lied her kingdom, her birthright.

The End

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