A Song of Lust and Desire: Chapter VI: The One In Which Sansa And Joffrey Take A Ride

CHAPTER SIX: On the King's Road, en route to King's Landing

Sansa Stark was having absolutely the best day of her life. While she was terribly saddened when her scheduled lemoncake brunch with Queen Cersei Lannister was cancelled after the arrival of the King's Guard to escort the King and her Father to King's Landing ahead of the long retinue train, her stomach was set aflutter as the Queen suggested to Prince Joffrey - Sansa's betrothed - to entertain her for the afternoon instead. At his charming assenting smile to the young girl, despite the unsettling gaze of Ser Ilyn Payne and the harsh, barking laughter of the Hound, Sansa's spirits took flight.

And so Sansa and Joffrey's glorious, magical, perfect day began. The pair galloped across the fertile riverlands, exploring here-and-there. Sansa could never recall being happier in all of her life. When the pair stopped for a bit to eat, Prince Joffrey gave a sly grin to the enamoured girl and produced a wineskin from his pack. Sansa's vivid blue eyes widened in surprise and, reverently lowering her voice, she confessed, "Father only let us have one cup, and only at feasts."

Joffrey Baratheon shot a sleazy yet charming smile at the beautiful and infatuated Stark girl, and chastised her by saying, "I am the Prince, and my betrothed may have as much drink as she wants. "

With a tentative yet relenting smile, Sansa drank a few more cups of the sweet, sweet wine when she felt the strong hand on her soft, supple thigh, and froze. Her cheeks burned crimson as her face and eyes tilt to Prince Joffrey who was lecherously eyeing her teenage body. Her voice squeaks in surprise as the young man practically lunges on top of her, causing the empty cup to tumble into the grass where it laid forgotten.

Prince Joffrey kissed her aggressively, showing no skill or experience, only a primal lust. Sansa's hands lift to his narrow, weak shoulders and she mumbles to him, her mind swimming with a combination of wine and lust, "M-my Prince, you mustn't!"

A strong hand surrounds her young breast, crushing her beautiful blue silken dress into the supple flesh of her breast, eliciting a mewling moan into her assailant's mouth as he tugged at her nipple through her layers. Lifting his sneering mouth from her plump lips, bright green eyes snarl at her and say, "I am the Prince. I take what I want."

His hands move to the stag-shaped belt buckle around his waist as Sansa, still immobilized by fear, stares shocked at him. Just as the young man loosens his belt, an echoing moan reaches the pair's ears. Joffrey's eyes shot up past her at the tree line, and with a wry grin smirks down at the Stark woman and her heaving bosom beneath him, "I don't think we're alone out here."

The beautiful blonde boy stands and, grabbing Sansa's arm, pulls her a little roughly to her feet. Sansa's head spins and throbs painfully, a dull and unfamiliar ache behind her forehead. She pushes her auburn hair backward over her shoulder, and presses her hand to her skull. Joffrey smirks at her and says, "I want to make sure we're not interrupted, then I'm going to fuck you."

Sansa, shocked at the brazenness of the prince, can't even formulate a reply as she drunkenly stumbles with Joffrey, her arm still stuck in his vice-like grip. They tromp shortly through the treeline to a small creek nearby, and hide behind a tree. Sansa's blue eyes blurrily squint at the boy sitting on a rock next to the small riverbed, and mumbles to Joffrey, "I think I saw that boy in the entourage."

Joffrey noded raptly and whispers back to Sansa, "I think that's the butcher's boy." His predatory sneer got wider, "It looks like he's not alone."

Sansa squinted at the butcher boy, and - oh my - yes there was a woman in dirty leather clothes kneeling in front of him. The way the boy's body was positioned while sitting on the rock blocked most of the view of the young brown haired woman, but the obvious bobbing motion of her head told that her pliant young mouth was eagerly working the cock of the butcher boy. The boy's head was tilted towards the sky, and he was groaning in pleasure. It seemed that the whore in dirty, muddy, leather was doing her duty very well, thought Sansa, and her breath quickened with gasps. She'd never been this close to a pair of people doing - doing that.

Another gasp escaped the auburn-haired Sansa Stark as Joffrey pressed himself to her back, pinning her to the tree that she hid behind. His hot breath washed over her ear as she groaned in nervous complaint, "No, please. Not until we're married. I want to go back"

Despite her protests, her pert ass was wiggling back against Joffrey's lap. She could feel the throbbing hardness of his crotch as it ground against her ass, thrusting against her as if he was fucking her. Slowly her skirt was raised by Joffrey's hands, her own hands gave a feeble and uncoordinated defence attempting to hold it down, which Joffrey was easily able to ignore. The prince's hands paused completely when the whore in front of the butcher boy stood - her height not much larger than the boy who was sitting down - to reveal the identity of the scrawny girl in soiled leathers. Prince Joffrey laughed loudly. The butcher boy turned to the treeline, long cock dangling from his breeches. The girl glared at the pair of them, sucking a bit of cum off her fingers, and Sansa was horrified, "ARYA?" she called out frantically.

"Go away!" Arya Stark stomped forward to the royal pair as the butcher boy quickly does up his pants, cum leaking off her sister's cheek before she wipes it away with a hand, "What are you doing here? Leave Mycah and I alone!"

Almost instantly, Joffrey seemed to lose interest in Sansa, and slipped out from their hiding spot behind the tree to strut arrogantly towards Arya. He pauses and skims her with his gaze, before asking of Sansa "This slut is your sister, right?" Sansa nodded, blushing furiously.

With quick speed, Arya grabbed a nearby stick and shouted at Joffrey, brandishing the branch aggressively "I am not a slut!"

The elder of the Stark sisters was terribly afraid, and her mind was still swimming with inebriation, "Arya, pleasecome back to camp with us. No one has to know what youwhat you were doing."

Joffrey's eyes never left Arya's nubile body, and advanced towards her, heedless of the branch she was wielding, "You won't be leaving yetnot until I've had my turn with both of you. Why should a lowly butcher get something the prince hasn't?"

Arya went for him with her stick.

Sansa lunged forward to try to step between the two, but she was too slow, too drunk, too weak, and everything happened before her horrified and dizzy eyes. Arya swung the branch like a two-handed club, cracking into the prince's skull. Joffrey staggered to the left, cursing profusely. Mycah bolted for the trees as fast as he could. Joffrey unsteadily drew his sword from his sheath as Arya swung again, this time her stick slicing in half as the Prince clumsily blocked it with his sword. Undaunted, Arya picked up rock after rock and hurled them at Joffrey, missing wildly all the while Sansa shrieked in terror, "Stop! Don't! Stop! You're ruining everything!"

Joffrey slashed at Arya, blood dripping into his eyes growling at her that he was going to fuck her bloody with his sword. Arya danced back, fear playing across her face as she lost her balance in the mud, flopping onto her ass as Joffrey loomed over her, hoisting his sword over his head for a deadly blow.

Sansa stood there uselessly, tears rapidly overflowing her beautiful cheeks, until her blue silk dress swooshed as a grey blur raced past her. Suddenly Arya's direwolf Nymeria was there, leaping, jaws closing around Joffrey's arm. His sword, Lion's Tooth, fell to the ground and rolled into the mud as the Prince and the wolf crashed to the earth, the wolf snarling and ripping and the prince shrieking in agony as red blood flowed from his arm.

Arya's voice rang sharp through the clearing, "Nymeria!"

The Prince lay sobbing on the ground as the direwolf trotted to Arya's side. The youngest Stark sister picks up the discarded sword and advances on the scared, whimpering Joffrey with his own sword held high. He recoils like a craven, crawling backwards and babbling in pain. A wolf-like snarl crosses Arya's face as she says to him, "Maybe I'll have my turn, and fuck you bloody with this!"

"YOU LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Sansa screamed at Arya, and ran, crouching down beside her beloved prince, cradling his head in her arms. Arya turns from her sister and the Prince and whips the sword into the air, putting her whole tiny body into the throw. The castle-forged steel flashes and glints in the air, before sinking into the river with a loud splash. Joffrey moaned pitifully as Arya ran off into the woods, followed quickly by Nymeria.

Alone next to the little creek, Sansa's eyes lower to Joffrey's blood-stained, crying, slightly purple face, "Joffrey, oh my love, look what they did. My poor prince. Don't be afraid. I'll ride back and get help for you." Tenderly she reached out and kissed his golden blonde hair.

His furious green eyes snapped open and sneered at her, nothing but loathing in his gaze, "Then go, you bitch."

Sansa jerked back as if struck and ran, crying, for the camp.