Chapter Text
Baelor had decided it was past time. His little brother Maekar was a man grown, tall and broad-shouldered, yet still untouched, still blushing at the mere suggestion of pleasure. The streets of King’s Landing were thick with the night’s revelry as Baelor, cloaked, led Maekar through the shadowed alleys to the finest brothel on the Street of Silk.
Inside, the air was heavy with perfume, incense, and the low moans of pleasure from curtained alcoves. The madam bowed deeply to the two princes and clapped her hands. A line of whores assembled before them—women of every hue and shape, breasts bare and hips swaying, alongside young men with oiled skin, cocks already half-hard in invitation. Maekar’s violet eyes widened, his face flushing crimson beneath his silver hair. He stood frozen, fists clenched at his sides, unable to speak.
“Choose, brother,” Baelor said, voice warm and encouraging, smiling like this was the most ordinary lesson in the world. “Any of them. Or more than one. A prince should know pleasure before he rides to war or weds some sour-faced lady.”
Maekar’s face burned. The youngest of the brothers at six and ten, he stood rigid in his fine doublet, hands clenched at his sides. His eyes flicked over the offerings—the heavy breasts of a Lyseni woman, the thick cock hanging soft between the thighs of a young Braavosi man—but his throat closed. He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t point. His heart hammered so loudly he was sure everyone could hear it.
One of the whores—a soft-eyed young woman with auburn hair cascading over pale, heavy breasts—stepped forward gently. “My prince,” she murmured, voice like warm honey. She reached out slowly, fingertips brushing Maekar’s arm. “No need to be shy. Let me ease you. Tell me what you like… do you dream of soft tits pressed against your chest? A warm, wet cunt squeezing your cock? Or perhaps a strong hand and a tight arse?”
Maekar’s breathing quickened. He looked at her—at all of them—his eyes tracing curves and cocks with growing hunger as her soft words calmed the storm in his chest. His cock twitched visibly beneath his breeches.
Baelor watched, and something dark twisted in his gut. Jealousy, hot and unexpected. His little brother. No one else should see that flush on Maekar’s cheeks. No one else should coax that first spark of desire from him.
“Enough,” Baelor snapped, voice cutting through the room like Valyrian steel. Every whore and servant froze. “All of you—out. Now. The princes require the room alone.”
The whores bowed and filed out, but Maekar caught the knowing glances they exchanged. The door clicked shut. They were alone.
Baelor turned the key, then strolled back to his brother with an easy smile, as if nothing were amiss. “There. Better, isn’t it? No eyes but ours.” He stepped closer, taller and more commanding, his hand coming up to cup Maekar’s jaw. “You were overwhelmed, little brother. That’s alright. I’ll guide you.”
Maekar’s breath hitched as Baelor’s thumb stroked his cheek. “B-Baelor… what are you—”
“Shh.” Baelor’s other hand moved to the laces of Maekar’s tunic, tugging them open with practiced ease. He pushed the fabric from Maekar’s shoulders, exposing the smooth, muscled chest beneath. Maekar’s nipples were already pebbled. Baelor’s fingers traced them lightly, circling, then pinching just enough to draw a gasp. “Tell me, Maekar… do you think you’d prefer the soft weight of a woman’s breasts in your hands? The slick heat of a cunt dripping down your cock?”
As he spoke, Baelor leaned in, lips brushing Maekar’s ear. His hand slid lower, palming the hard bulge in Maekar’s breeches, squeezing the thick length through the cloth. Maekar shuddered, hips jerking forward involuntarily.
“Or does the thought of a man’s cock intrigue you more?” Baelor continued conversationally, voice low and intimate, as if they were merely discussing tourney strategies. He unlaced Maekar’s breeches and shoved them down, freeing his brother’s cock. It sprang up, heavy and flushed, the head already glistening with precum. Baelor wrapped his long fingers around it, stroking slowly from base to tip, thumb swirling over the sensitive head. “Hard, thick, leaking for you. Sliding between your lips. Or pushing into your arse while you moan like a wanton whore.”
Maekar moaned, head falling back. His hands clutched at Baelor’s arms, eyes glazed and fixed only on his big brother. The whores outside, the lined-up bodies—all forgotten. There was only Baelor’s voice, Baelor’s touch, Baelor’s scent of leather.
“I—I don’t—” Maekar stammered, hips twitching forward despite himself.
“Look at you,” Baelor murmured, pumping Maekar’s cock with firm, twisting strokes, smearing the leaking precum down the shaft. “So hard for me already. Does that feel good, little brother? My hand on your cock?” He pressed closer, letting Maekar feel the rigid heat of his own erection through his clothes. With his free hand, Baelor stripped off his own tunic, revealing his sculpted physique, then guided Maekar’s trembling hand to his chest.
Maekar’s fingers explored hesitantly at first, then eagerly, tracing the planes of muscle, brushing over Baelor’s nipples. His hips rocked into Baelor’s fist, fucking his brother’s hand with desperate little thrusts.
Maekar’s knees weakened. Baelor’s voice stayed so calm, so normal, while his hand worked Maekar’s cock with devastating patience—long strokes, tight grip, twisting gently at the crown.
Baelor chuckled softly, nipping at Maekar’s neck. “That’s it. Forget the whores. It’s just us. Tell me what you want… my mouth on your cock? My fingers stretching your hole while I whisper how tight you are? Or do you want your big brother to bend you over and fuck you raw until you scream my name?”
Maekar whimpered, lost completely, precum dripping steadily over Baelor’s knuckles. His world had narrowed to the burning touch of the only person who had ever truly mattered.
Baelor smiled against his skin, stroking faster, tighter, his own cock aching with possessive need. “Maybe all you can think about is your brother’s hand on your cock. My fingers inside you. My cock stretching that tight little hole open while I tell you how good you feel for me.” he whispered, voice dropping lower, hotter.
Baelor kissed the side of his neck, slow and lingering, still pumping him with that perfect rhythm. “That’s it, little brother. Forget the whores. It’s just us now…”
Baelor’s lips lingered against the heated skin of Maekar’s neck, sucking lightly before he pulled back just enough to watch his brother’s face. His hand never stopped its slow, slick rhythm on Maekar’s cock—twisting over the head on every upstroke, spreading the steady leak of precum down the shaft until it glistened.
“You’re dripping for me already,” Baelor murmured, voice still maddeningly conversational. “Does that answer the question, little brother? No need for a woman’s soft cunt when your cock jumps like this in your brother’s fist.”
Maekar could only gasp, forehead pressed to Baelor’s chest, hips stuttering forward helplessly. Baelor smiled, then guided him backward until Maekar’s thighs hit the edge of the large, silk-draped bed. With one firm push, he toppled his younger brother onto the mattress.
Baelor stood over him, his chest was broad and muscled from years of training, bronze skin marked with faint scars. Maekar’s eyes widened as Baelor unlaced his breeches and freed his own cock—thicker than Maekar’s, longer, already fully hard and curving upward with a heavy bead of precum at the slit.
“Eyes up here if you need to breathe,” Baelor teased gently, climbing onto the bed and kneeling between Maekar’s spread thighs. He pushed Maekar’s legs wider apart, then wrapped a hand around both their cocks, pressing them together. The heat and friction drew a broken moan from Maekar’s throat.
“Feel that?” Baelor stroked them in long, lazy pulls, his bigger cock rubbing along the underside of Maekar’s. “That’s what a man feels like. Hot. Hard. Leaking just as much as you are.” He spat into his palm, making the slide wetter, filthier. “Tell me which you want tonight. A whore’s tits smothering your face while I watch… or your big brother’s cock sliding down your throat until you choke on it?”
Maekar’s answer was a whimper. His hands fisted the sheets, eyes glassy with lust, fixed on Baelor’s face.
Baelor chuckled darkly. “That’s what I thought.”
He shifted upward, straddling Maekar’s chest, and tapped the heavy head of his cock against his brother’s lips. “Open.” When Maekar hesitated, shy even now, Baelor rubbed the leaking tip across his mouth, smearing precum over those plush lips. “Don’t make me ask twice, Maekar. Suck your brother’s cock like a good boy.”
Maekar parted his lips with a shaky breath. Baelor pushed in slowly, inch by thick inch, groaning low as wet heat enveloped him. “Fuck… that’s it. Tongue underneath—yes, just like that.” He rocked his hips gently at first, fucking Maekar’s mouth in shallow thrusts while one hand cradled the back of his head.
Maekar moaned around the girth stretching his lips, eyes watering, cheeks hollowing as he tried to take more. The taste—salty, musky, purely Baelor—made his own cock throb painfully against his stomach.
Baelor kept talking, voice roughening. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth. Better than any whore. Deeper, brother—relax your throat. Let me feel it squeeze.”
He pushed further, hitting the back of Maekar’s throat until the younger prince gagged, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. Baelor pulled back just enough to let him breathe, then slid in again, fucking his face with controlled, deliberate strokes.
After several minutes of wet, obscene sounds, Baelor pulled out with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting Maekar’s swollen lips to his glistening cock. He moved back down, hooked Maekar’s legs over his shoulders, and bent forward. His tongue traced a hot line from Maekar’s balls to the tip of his cock before he swallowed him down in one smooth motion.
“Ah—Baelor!” Maekar cried out, back arching sharply.
Baelor sucked him hard, hollowing his cheeks, one hand rolling Maekar’s balls while the other slid lower. A spit-slick finger circled his tight hole, pressing in slowly. Maekar clenched at the intrusion, but Baelor hummed around his cock and pushed deeper, crooking his finger until he found that spot inside that made Maekar see stars.
One finger became two, scissoring and stretching him open while Baelor continued to bob his head, sucking noisily. Maekar was babbling now—broken pleas, his brother’s name, nonsense words—as pleasure tore through him.
Baelor pulled off his cock with a filthy pop, fingers still buried deep, thrusting steadily. “You’re going to take my cock in this tight little arse tonight, Maekar. I’m going to fuck you until you forget every name but mine. Until you spill all over your own belly while I fill you up.”
He withdrew his fingers, lined up the thick head of his cock against Maekar’s fluttering hole, and began to push inside with a low, satisfied groan.
“Relax, little brother… let me in.”
Baelor groaned deeply as he pressed forward, the thick head of his cock breaching Maekar’s tight ring of muscle. Maekar gasped sharply, back arching off the bed, fingers clawing at Baelor’s shoulders.
“Fuck—Baelor… it’s too big,” Maekar whimpered, voice trembling.
“Shh, you can take it. Breathe, little brother.” Baelor pushed steadily deeper, stretching him open inch by inch until his heavy balls rested against Maekar’s arse. The younger prince was impossibly tight, hot velvet clenching around every thick vein of Baelor’s cock. “Seven hells… you feel perfect. So fucking tight around your brother’s cock.”
He stayed buried to the hilt for a long moment, letting Maekar adjust, then rolled them over in one smooth motion so that he was on his back with Maekar straddling him. His cock stayed lodged deep inside that clenching heat.
“Ride me,” Baelor commanded, voice low and rough. His hands settled on Maekar’s narrow hips, guiding but not forcing. “I want to watch you fuck yourself on me. Show me how much you need your big brother’s cock.”
Maekar’s long silver hair fell messily around his flushed face and shoulders as he braced his hands on Baelor’s broad chest. He was panting, lips swollen from earlier, cock leaking steadily onto Baelor’s abdomen. Shy as he still was, lust had burned away most of his hesitation. He lifted his hips slowly, feeling every inch of Baelor’s thick length drag against his insides, then sank back down with a broken moan.
“Ah—! Baelor… gods…” Maekar gasped, eyes fluttering half-shut. He rose again, faster this time, and began to roll his hips in an unsteady rhythm, fucking himself on his brother’s cock. Wet, obscene sounds filled the room every time he bottomed out—skin slapping skin, the slick squelch of his hole taking that fat Targaryen cock.
Baelor leaned back against the pillows, hands roaming over Maekar’s body in open worship. “That’s it… just like that, my beautiful boy. Look at you. So fucking pretty with your hair spilling down like that. You were made for this.” He reached up and tangled his fingers in those long silver locks, tugging gently. “My perfect little brother, riding my cock like a whore in heat. So eager.”
Maekar whimpered loudly, hips moving faster, bouncing harder. Each downward movement made Baelor’s cock drag over that sweet spot inside him, sending sparks of pleasure up his spine. “Baelor… it feels—ahh!—so deep… I can feel you everywhere…”
Baelor’s eyes darkened with lust and something possessive, almost feral. His hands gripped Maekar’s hips tighter, though he still let his brother do all the work, watching hungrily as Maekar’s cock bounced and leaked with every movement.
“I’ve waited years for this,” Baelor confessed, voice rough with dark satisfaction. “I wanted to bend you over and ruin that smug little arse of yours, but you were not ready. But now—” He thrust up sharply once, meeting Maekar’s downward bounce and drawing a loud cry from him. “You’re perfect, Maekar. Tight. Hot. So fucking desperate for me. This hole was made for your big brother’s cock.”
Maekar moaned shamelessly at the words, riding him harder, thighs trembling with effort. Sweat glistened on his pale skin as he ground down, circling his hips so Baelor’s cock stirred deep inside him. “Yes… yours—fuck—only yours, Baelor… please…”
Baelor groaned in pure pleasure, one hand sliding up to pinch and tug at Maekar’s sensitive nipples while the other wrapped around his leaking cock, stroking him in time with his bounces.
“Look at you working so hard for it. Such a good boy. My beautiful little brother with your long pretty hair and your greedy arse swallowing every inch. Keep going. Fuck yourself until you come all over me. I want to feel you squeeze my cock when you spill.”
Maekar’s rhythm grew frantic, desperate whimpers and gasps falling from his lips with every bounce. “Baelor—! I’m— I’m so close… your cock is so thick… filling me up—ahh!”
Baelor’s smile was dark and loving all at once as he watched his perfect brother lose himself completely, riding him with abandon. The night was still young, and he had no intention of letting Maekar leave this bed until he was thoroughly claimed.
Baelor’s hands tightened on Maekar’s hips as his little brother kept riding him, bouncing eagerly on his thick cock. Maekar’s long silver hair clung to his sweat-dampened skin, swaying with every desperate rise and fall.
“Fuck… Baelor… you’re so deep,” Maekar gasped, voice cracking into a whimper as he ground down hard, clenching around the girth stretching him open. His own cock slapped wetly against Baelor’s abdomen with every bounce, leaving sticky trails of precum.
Baelor’s control finally snapped. Lust burned hot in his mismatched eyes. He planted his feet flat on the bed, knees bent, and drove his hips up with brutal force.
“Ah—!” Maekar cried out sharply as Baelor started pounding him from below. The new angle made Baelor’s cock slam directly into his prostate with every savage thrust. Maekar’s hands flew to Baelor’s chest, fingers digging into hard muscle as he held on for dear life, moaning loudly with each powerful stroke.
“Gods—Baelor! Baelor—ahh! Fuck—!” Maekar’s moans spilled out uncontrollably, high and broken. His thighs shook violently as Baelor fucked up into him like a man possessed, the wet slap of skin against skin loud and filthy. “It’s—feels so good—!”
“That’s it, pretty boy,” Baelor growled, teeth clenched with pleasure. “Take your brother’s cock. Look at you moaning like a whore for me.”
He fucked Maekar harder, hips snapping up relentlessly, driving his thick length in and out of that tight, fluttering hole. Maekar could only cling to him, gasping and whimpering, hair falling around them like a curtain.
“Baelor—! I’m— I’m going to—!”
Maekar came first with a strangled cry, his cock pulsing hard between their bodies. Thick ropes of cum splattered across Baelor’s chest and abdomen as his hole clenched violently around Baelor’s cock. His whole body shook, eyes rolling back, mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure.
Baelor didn’t stop. He kept pounding up into his brother through the orgasm, fucking him straight through it, drawing out every last tremor and whimper.
“Fuck, yes—squeeze me just like that,” Baelor groaned, voice dark with satisfaction. “Good boy. Such a perfect little brother.”
Before Maekar could even catch his breath, Baelor flipped him over onto his stomach in one swift motion. He yanked Maekar’s hips up slightly, lined up his still-hard cock, and thrust back inside in a single deep stroke.
Maekar moaned loudly into the sheets, fists clutching the silk. “Baelor…!”
Baelor grabbed Maekar’s right wrist with one hand, pinning it to the small of his back. With the other, he fisted that beautiful long silver hair and tugged hard, arching Maekar’s back sharply.
“There we go,” Baelor rasped, voice thick with lust as he started fucking him again — hard, deep, possessive strokes that made the bed creak. “Arch that back for me. Let me ruin this tight royal arse properly.”
Maekar gasped and whimpered with every thrust, the new position letting Baelor hit even deeper. Tears of overwhelming pleasure slipped from the corners of his eyes as his brother used him.
“Baelor—ahh—fuck—please—!” he moaned, voice hoarse, completely lost in the feeling of being owned by his big brother.
Baelor leaned over him, hips snapping relentlessly, lips brushing Maekar’s ear. “I’m not done with you yet, little brother. Not even close.”
Baelor kept pounding into Maekar with deep, merciless strokes, his hips slapping loudly against his little brother’s firm arse. The wet, filthy sound of his thick cock sliding in and out of Maekar’s stretched hole filled the room.
Maekar was shaking, still sensitive from his first orgasm, every thrust making him whimper and gasp into the sheets.
“Baelor—ahh—too much… I’m—fuck—I’m still so sensitive…” he moaned brokenly, voice hoarse.
But despite his whimpers, his cock had hardened again, trapped between his belly and the silk sheets, leaking steadily with every brutal drag of Baelor’s cock over his prostate.
Baelor smiled darkly, leaning over Maekar’s arched back. He released the younger prince’s pinned wrist and slid that hand up to wrap firmly around Maekar’s throat instead, pulling him back harder while his other hand tightened in the long silver hair.
“That’s it… such a pretty little thing you are,” Baelor growled low against his ear, tugging sharply on Maekar’s hair to arch his back even more. “Look at this beautiful hair… so long and soft. You look like a fucking dream when I pull it like this. My perfect, pretty brother.”
He squeezed Maekar’s throat just enough to make him gasp for air, hips never slowing as he drove his thick cock in and out in long, powerful strokes.
“You’re mine, Maekar,” Baelor rasped, voice rough with lust. “This tight hole is mine. This cock is mine. This pretty face and this gorgeous hair—all fucking mine. I waited so long to claim you.”
Maekar whimpered loudly, the new grip on his throat making his voice crack into desperate, breathy moans. His body was bent back sharply now, completely at Baelor’s mercy as his big brother fucked him senseless.
“Ah—! Baelor—! Gods… your cock—feels so deep—!” Maekar gasped and moaned shamelessly, tears of overwhelming pleasure slipping down his flushed cheeks. His own cock throbbed painfully hard again, dragging against the sheets with every thrust. “I’m— I’m getting close again… please—”
Baelor chuckled darkly, tightening his grip on both Maekar’s hair and throat as he railed him even harder, the angle letting him slam directly into that sensitive spot inside him over and over.
“Yes, that’s my good boy. So sensitive but still getting hard for your big brother’s cock. Come for me again, Maekar. I want to feel this greedy little hole milk me while I choke and fuck the moans out of you.”
Maekar’s moans grew louder and more broken, his body trembling violently as he was held arched and helpless in Baelor’s strong grip.
“Baelor—! Baelor, I’m— I’m going to come—ahh—fuck—!”
“Come on, pretty boy,” Baelor growled, yanking Maekar’s head back harder, arching him brutally. “Give me another one. I can feel you clenching. You’re going to come on your big brother’s cock again like the needy little thing you are.”
Maekar’s voice cracked into a high, desperate moan. “Baelor—! Ahh—fuck—! I can’t— I’m—!”
His second orgasm hit him like a lance. Maekar cried out sharply as his cock pulsed beneath him, spilling fresh ropes of cum onto the silk sheets. His hole spasmed wildly around Baelor’s thick cock, squeezing and fluttering as waves of overwhelming pleasure tore through his oversensitive body.
Baelor groaned at the feeling but didn’t slow down. The moment Maekar started to come, he released his grip on the long silver hair. Maekar collapsed forward bonelessly onto the bed, face buried in the messy sheets, whimpering and trembling.
Even then, Baelor didn’t stop. He kept fucking him straight through the orgasm, hips snapping forward in a relentless rhythm. Maekar’s body jolted with every deep thrust, his whimpers turning into soft, overwhelmed sobs of pleasure.
“Baelor… Baelor, please…” Maekar whimpered brokenly, voice hoarse and muffled against the bed. His hole was twitching and fluttering, still impossibly tight around his brother’s cock. “It’s too much… ah—!”
Baelor growled low, bracing his hands on either side of Maekar’s head as he railed him prone, driving his thick cock in and out of that slick, cum-stuffed hole.
“You’re going to stay right here and take it, little brother,” he rasped, voice dark with lust. “You look so fucking beautiful like this — all fucked out, hair spread across the sheets, whimpering for me. I’m not pulling out until I fill you up.”
Maekar could only moan and whimper helplessly, fingers clutching the sheets as Baelor used him. Every thrust pushed him forward against the bed, his spent cock rubbing against the wet patch beneath him.
Baelor’s breathing grew ragged. His thrusts became shorter, harder, more desperate. He buried his face against the back of Maekar’s neck, biting down lightly as he chased his own release.
“Fuck… Maekar… taking me so well… such a perfect little brother,” he groaned. “Gonna come so deep inside you… breed this royal hole…”
With a deep, guttural moan, Baelor slammed into the hilt one last time and came hard. Thick, hot pulses of cum flooded Maekar’s insides as Baelor ground against him, emptying himself completely. He stayed buried deep, hips twitching with aftershocks, while Maekar whimpered softly beneath him, full and claimed.
Baelor pressed a lazy, possessive kiss to the side of Maekar’s neck, still buried to the hilt.
“Good boy,” he murmured. “All mine.”
Baelor stayed buried deep inside his brother for a long moment, savoring the way Maekar’s hole continued to flutter and milk his spent cock. Finally, with a low, satisfied groan, he slowly pulled out. A thick trickle of his own cum immediately leaked from Maekar’s reddened, well-fucked hole, dripping down over his balls.
Maekar whimpered softly at the loss, lying limp and trembling on the ruined sheets, his long silver hair plastered to his sweaty back.
“Not done yet, little brother,” Baelor murmured, voice dark and hungry. “I still have to teach you properly. A good prince should be clean… and I made quite a mess of you.”
He flipped Maekar onto his back with ease. The younger prince’s cock lay soft and spent against his thigh, glistening with the remnants of his own earlier releases. Baelor moved down between his spread legs, eyes gleaming with possessive lust.
“Look at you,” he said softly, almost reverently. “All soft and sensitive now. But we’re not finished with your lessons.”
Maekar’s eyes widened as Baelor lowered his head. “Baelor— wait— I just came twice, I’m— ahh!”
His protest turned into a sharp whimper the moment Baelor’s hot tongue dragged slowly up the underside of his soft cock. Baelor licked him thoroughly, tasting the mix of Maekar’s own cum and sweat, before wrapping his lips around the sensitive head and sucking gently.
“Fuck—! Baelor!” Maekar gasped, hips jerking. His cock was still far too sensitive, every slow lick and suck sending overwhelming sparks through his overstimulated body. He tried to squirm away, pushing weakly at Baelor’s dark head. “It’s too much… please—”
Baelor ignored his little brother’s whimpers. He sucked harder, taking the entire soft length into his warm, wet mouth, tongue swirling around it lovingly. He hummed, the vibration making Maekar cry out and twitch. One of Baelor’s strong hands pressed down on Maekar’s hip, holding him in place while the other gently rolled his balls.
Despite the sensitivity, blood rushed back to Maekar’s cock. It began to thicken and harden again between Baelor’s lips, growing heavier on his tongue with every slow, deliberate suck.
“Mmm… that’s it,” Baelor purred, pulling off just long enough to speak, a string of saliva connecting his lips to the now half-hard cock. “See? Your body knows what it needs. Even when you’re whimpering and trying to run away, your cock still wants your big brother’s mouth.”
He dove back down, sucking with more purpose now, bobbing his head as Maekar’s cock swelled to full hardness again. Maekar’s whimpers turned into desperate, broken moans. His hands fisted in Baelor’s hair, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer.
“Baelor— gods— I can’t… it’s too intense— ahh— fuck—!”
His thighs trembled violently around Baelor’s shoulders. Every swirl of that skilled tongue made his oversensitive cock throb painfully hard. Tears of overwhelming pleasure slipped from the corners of Maekar’s eyes as he writhed helplessly under his brother’s relentless mouth.
Baelor pulled off with a wet pop, stroking the now rock-hard, flushed cock with his hand while looking up at Maekar with a dark, satisfied smile.
“Still so pretty when you’re sensitive and desperate,” he murmured, licking a fresh bead of precum from the tip. “We’re going to keep going until you understand exactly who this cock belongs to, little brother.”
He lowered his head again, sucking Maekar deep into his throat with a filthy moan. Baelor kept Maekar on his back, legs spread wide around his broad shoulders. The younger prince was already trembling, his cock hard and flushed dark from Baelor’s relentless mouth.
“Stay just like this for me, little brother,” Baelor murmured, voice low and affectionate. “I want to watch your face while I teach your body something new.”
He slicked two fingers with spit and the cum still leaking from Maekar’s hole, then pushed them back inside the tight heat. Maekar gasped sharply. Baelor curled his fingers upward, searching, until he found that swollen, sensitive spot and pressed firmly against it.
“Ah—!” Maekar’s hips jerked hard.
“There it is,” Baelor purred, smiling darkly. “This is how I’m going to make you come without touching your cock much at all. Just your prostate. Just my fingers milking that pretty spot inside you.”
He began a steady rhythm — two thick fingers rubbing and pressing against Maekar’s prostate. Every stroke was deliberate, controlled, and devastating.
Maekar’s head fell back against the pillows, mouth open in a silent cry. “Baelor… oh gods… that feels— mmph—!”
Baelor watched hungrily as his little brother started shaking. Maekar’s thighs quivered, his belly tightened, and his long silver hair spilled messily across the sheets. Every time Baelor rubbed that spot just right, Maekar’s cock leaked fresh precum.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” Baelor whispered, eyes never leaving Maekar’s flushed, tear-streaked face. “All spread open for your big brother. Shaking and whimpering while I play with your prostate. Look at you.”
He sped up his fingers, rubbing firm circles directly against that gland. Maekar’s moans grew louder, more desperate. His hips tried to fuck himself back on Baelor’s fingers.
“I’m— I’m close— Baelor, please—!”
Just as Maekar was about to tip over the edge, Baelor slowed to a torturous crawl, easing the pressure on his prostate.
“No—! No, please—!” Maekar sobbed, hips bucking desperately, trying to chase the pleasure.
Baelor chuckled softly, dark and loving. “Not yet, pretty boy. I want to watch you cry for it.”
He brought Maekar right to the edge twice more — fingers massaging his prostate relentlessly,— only to stop or slow down each time. By the fourth denial, Maekar was a mess.
Tears streamed down his flushed cheeks. His whole body shook uncontrollably, thighs quivering violently around Baelor’s shoulders. Broken sobs mixed with his moans.
“Baelor— please— I can’t— I need to come— please let me come—!” Maekar cried openly now, voice cracking. “I’ll do anything— just let me— ahh—!”
Baelor’s eyes were burning with lust and adoration as he watched his perfect little brother fall apart. He curled his fingers again, pressing harder and faster against Maekar’s swollen prostate while his thumb now rubbed over the sensitive head of his cock.
“Look at you crying for your big brother,” Baelor growled, voice thick. “So pretty. So fucking desperate. Shake for me, Maekar. Come on my fingers like the beautiful little prince you are for me.”
He finally let Maekar tumble over the edge.
Maekar came with a shattered scream, back arching sharply off the bed. His cock pulsed hard in Baelor’s hand, shooting thin, watery ropes of cum across his own chest and belly while his prostate throbbed wildly around Baelor’s fingers. The orgasm seemed to last forever, wracking his oversensitive body with wave after wave of intense pleasure.
Baelor kept stroking and rubbing through every second of it, milking him completely dry, loving every broken sob and whimper that fell from Maekar’s lips.
When it finally ended, Maekar was left shaking, crying softly, and utterly spent beneath him.
Baelor slowly withdrew his fingers and leaned down to kiss the tears from Maekar’s cheeks, murmuring softly against his skin.
“My perfect little brother… we’re still not done with your lessons tonight.”
Baelor watched Maekar twitch and tremble on the bed, still coming down from the brutal prostate orgasm. His little brother’s chest was streaked with his own cum, eyes glassy with tears, legs shaking uncontrollably. Yet Baelor’s cock was rock-hard again, flushed dark and angrily leaking precum down the thick shaft.
He sat back against the headboard and wrapped a hand around himself, stroking lazily.
“Come here, Maekar,” he said, voice rough but gentle. “I need that pretty mouth on me. You can still shake like this… just get on your knees for your big brother.”
Maekar whimpered softly but obeyed, crawling weakly between Baelor’s spread thighs. His silver hair was messy and damp with sweat as he settled on his knees, face hovering in front of Baelor’s heavy, throbbing cock.
Baelor reached down and gently cupped Maekar’s cheek, thumb brushing away a tear.
“Start slow, little brother. Just like I taught you. Use your tongue first. Little licks… taste me.”
Maekar leaned in, still trembling, and dragged the tip of his tongue hesitantly along the underside of Baelor’s cock. He licked from base to tip in shy, tentative strokes, tasting the mix of cum and musk.
Baelor groaned deeply, fingers sliding into Maekar’s long hair. “Good boy… just like that. Lick all the way up. Taste how hard your brother is for you.”
Maekar whimpered and obeyed, licking broader stripes now, swirling his tongue around the fat head and lapping up the fresh bead of precum leaking from the slit. His whole body was still shaking from overstimulation.
Baelor’s grip tightened in his hair.
“Now open your mouth. Suck on the head first… yes— fuck, just like that.”
Maekar wrapped his swollen lips around the thick crown and sucked gently, cheeks hollowing. Baelor let out a low, satisfied moan, hips twitching.
“Deeper, pretty boy. Take more of me. Use your tongue while you suck… mmm, perfect.”
Maekar tried to take more, bobbing his head slowly, sucking wetter and harder as he gained a little confidence. Obscene, wet sounds filled the room as he worked more of Baelor’s thick cock into his mouth. He gagged softly when it hit the back of his throat, eyes watering again, but he didn’t pull away.
Baelor watched him with dark, burning hunger, eyes fixed on the sight of his little brother on his knees.
“Seven hells… look at you,” he rasped, voice thick with lust. “My beautiful little brother on his knees, shaking and crying, still sucking my cock so eagerly. You were made for this. Made to serve your big brother.”
He pushed Maekar’s hair back from his face so he could see those tear-filled eyes looking up at him.
“Suck harder, Maekar. Hollow your cheeks. That’s it… good boy. You’re going to let me fuck your throat soon, but for now just keep worshipping my cock like the perfect little boy you are for me.”
Maekar moaned around the thick length filling his mouth, the vibration making Baelor curse and thrust shallowly between his lips. Even exhausted and oversensitive, Maekar kept sucking, desperate to please his big brother.
Baelor smiled down at him, dark and possessive, fingers gently stroking through his silver hair.
“That’s my good boy… keep going. I love seeing you like this.”
Baelor leaned back against the headboard, groaning with pleasure as Maekar continued sucking him. The younger prince was still shaky and exhausted, but he was trying hard — bobbing his head, sucking wetly, and swirling his tongue around the thick shaft as best he could.
“Fuck… that’s it, little brother,” Baelor praised, voice rough. His fingers stayed tangled in Maekar’s long silver hair, guiding him gently. “You’re getting better already. Sucking your big brother’s cock so eagerly even after I wrecked you.”
Maekar whimpered around the heavy length stretching his lips, the vibration pulling another deep moan from Baelor. He took him deeper, eyes glassy and wet, cheeks hollowing with effort. Saliva dripped down his chin as he worked.
Baelor’s breathing grew heavier, his thighs tensing. His cock throbbed hard on Maekar’s tongue.
“Pull off,” he ordered suddenly, voice dark and commanding. “Open your mouth. Tongue out. Now.”
Maekar obeyed instantly, gasping for air as he pulled back. He knelt there between Baelor’s legs, mouth open wide, pink tongue extended, looking up with tear-streaked violet eyes and flushed cheeks. His long silver hair framed his face beautifully.
Baelor growled at the sight. He grabbed his slick, throbbing cock and started slapping it against Maekar’s tongue — heavy, wet smacks that made obscene sounds.
“Look at you… my pretty little brother on his knees with his tongue out like a whore,” Baelor rasped, rubbing the leaking head of his cock all over Maekar’s face. He traced it across those swollen lips, over his cheeks, along his tongue, then slapped it against it again. “So fucking beautiful. I could paint this perfect face every night.”
He stroked his cock slowly over Maekar’s outstretched tongue, rubbing the sensitive underside along the wet muscle, smearing precum everywhere. Maekar whimpered softly, tongue twitching under the weight of Baelor’s thick cock.
Baelor’s breathing turned ragged. His grip tightened in Maekar’s hair as he rubbed faster, dragging his cockhead across Maekar’s tongue and lips.
“Keep your mouth open— just like that. Fuck… I’m going to come all over that pretty face.”
With a deep, guttural groan, Baelor finally let go.
The first thick rope of cum shot across Maekar’s tongue and into his open mouth. The next splattered over his cheek, then his nose, then another heavy spurt landed on his forehead and dripped down into his silver hair. Baelor kept stroking himself through it, milking every drop, painting his little brother’s face in long, messy streaks of white.
Maekar stayed perfectly still, whimpering softly as warm cum covered his face — some landing on his tongue, some dripping from his lashes, some sliding down his chin.
Baelor breathed hard, staring down at the filthy, beautiful sight with dark satisfaction. He rubbed his spent cock slowly over Maekar’s cum-covered tongue one last time, then tapped it against his cheek.
“Look at you…” he murmured, voice thick with lust and affection. “My perfect little brother, face covered in my seed. So fucking pretty like this.”
He ran his thumb through a streak of cum on Maekar’s cheek and pushed it between his lips.
“Swallow what’s in your mouth, Maekar. Then I’ll decide if we’re finally done with your lessons for tonight… or if I’m going to fuck you again.”
Baelor looked down at the beautiful, ruined mess that was his little brother and felt a deep wave of possessive affection wash over him. Maekar was kneeling between his legs, face and chest covered in thick streaks of Baelor’s cum, lips swollen, eyes glassy and teary. He looked utterly debauched — and perfect.
“Come here, my sweet boy,” Baelor murmured softly. He pulled Maekar up gently into his lap, cradling him against his broad chest. Maekar whimpered quietly but immediately curled into him, hiding his sticky face in the crook of Baelor’s neck.
Baelor reached for a soft cloth and a basin of warm water that had been left on the side table. He began cleaning his brother with slow, careful strokes — first wiping the cum from Maekar’s cheeks, nose, forehead, and lashes, then gently cleaning his swollen lips and chin.
“You were so good for me tonight,” Baelor whispered between kisses, pressing his lips to Maekar’s temple, then his flushed cheek, then the corner of his mouth. “So beautiful. So perfect. Look at you… letting your big brother use you, mark you, fill you. I’ve never seen anything prettier than you on your knees with my seed all over your face.”
Maekar shivered in his arms, still sensitive and trembling. “Baelor…” he breathed, voice hoarse from moaning and crying out. “Did I… did I please you?”
Baelor’s arms tightened around him almost possessively. He tilted Maekar’s chin up and kissed him deeply, slow and tender, tasting himself on his little brother’s tongue.
“You pleased me more than you can imagine,” he murmured against his lips. “You’re mine, Maekar. Only mine. I won’t let anyone else ever touch you like this. No woman. No man. No one. This body, this mouth, this tight little hole — they belong to me. Do you understand?”
Maekar nodded quickly, eyes shining with devotion. “Yes… only you. I only want you, Baelor. I love you so much. I want to please you forever.” His voice cracked a little, still raw. “I’ll be good for you. I’ll let you do anything you want to me.”
Baelor’s heart clenched with dark satisfaction and overwhelming love. He kissed Maekar again, deeper this time, claiming his mouth thoroughly while his hands continued cleaning the rest of his body — wiping the cum from his chest and belly, then gently between his legs, carefully cleaning his reddened, leaking hole.
“My perfect little brother,” Baelor praised softly, pressing kisses along Maekar’s jaw and down his neck. “So sweet and eager even after I fucked you senseless. You took everything I gave you so well. I’m going to keep you like this — soft, obedient, dripping with my cum, always wanting only your big brother.”
Maekar let out a small, happy sound and nuzzled closer, pressing lazy kisses to Baelor’s collarbone. “I love you,” he whispered again, almost shyly. “More than anyone. I don’t care about anyone else. Just you.”
Baelor smiled, something dark and tender in his eyes. He finished cleaning Maekar and pulled him down onto the bed, wrapping his bigger body around his little brother protectively, holding him close.
“Good,” he murmured, kissing the top of Maekar’s silver head. “Because you’re mine now, Maekar. My sweet, pretty little brother. And I’m never letting you go.”
Maekar sighed contentedly, exhausted but glowing with pleasure and love. He clung to Baelor tightly, pressing himself as close as possible, completely safe and cherished in his big brother’s arms.
“I don’t want you to let me go,” he whispered sleepily.
Baelor stroked his long hair and kissed him once more, slow and deep.
“Then you never will.”
The heavy oak door muffled some sounds, but not nearly enough.
In the dimly lit hallway just outside the private chamber, the dismissed whores had gathered. No one had told them to leave the brothel — only the room — so they stayed, shamelessly pressed close to the door and walls, listening.
They had expected to hear the usual — some fumbling, nervous grunts from the shy younger prince, maybe a few commands from Prince Baelor. What they heard instead left them flushed, breathing hard, and aching.
“Gods…” the Dornish woman whispered, thighs pressed together. Her nipples were visibly stiff against her thin silk shift. “Listen to him. Prince Baelor is ruining that boy.”
Inside, Prince Maekar’s broken moan rang out clearly: “Baelor—! Ahh—fuck—! I’m going to come—!”
The Lyseni woman bit her lip hard, one hand unconsciously sliding between her own thighs. “Did you hear how he made the little prince ride him? All that filthy talk… calling him ‘pretty boy’ and ‘perfect little brother’ while the boy whimpered and bounced on his cock.”
The Braavosi man shifted, his own thick erection tenting his breeches. “Prince Baelor’s got stamina like a bull. He didn’t even stop when the young one came the first time. Just flipped him over, grabbed that long silver hair and fucked him like he owned him.” He let out a low, envious groan. “I’d let either of them wreck me for a week.”
The Pentoshi girl was breathing shakily, cheeks flushed dark. “The way Prince Baelor talks… ‘This hole is mine. This pretty face is mine.’ Fuck, I’m soaked. I wanted to be in there between them. I’d suck the younger one while Prince Baelor fucked him. Or drop to my knees for Prince Baelor after he filled his brother up.”
A soft, wet sound came from the room again — skin slapping hard and fast, followed by Prince Maekar’s desperate, hoarse whimpers and gasps as Prince Baelor railed him into the mattress.
The Myr boy whimpered quietly, palming himself through his sheer robe. “He came twice. Twice. And Prince Baelor just kept going, choking him, pulling his hair, telling him how beautiful he looked all fucked out. I’ve never heard a royal fuck like that. So possessive… so hungry.”
The Dornish woman let out a shaky laugh. “Targaryens. Of course they are. I’ve had lords and merchants, but never a dragon. I’d let Prince Baelor bend me over right next to his brother and fuck us both senseless. I’d let the shy one use my mouth while Prince Baelor claims him.” She squeezed her breasts, clearly aching. “But we all know better. Targaryens don’t share what they consider theirs. And that boy in there? He’s Prince Baelor’s now. Did you hear how he growled it? ‘All mine.’”
Another loud, guttural moan from Prince Baelor signaled his climax, followed by Prince Maekar’s soft, overwhelmed whimpers as he was filled.
The whores stood in heated silence for a moment, listening to the low murmurs afterward — Prince Baelor’s quiet praise, the wet sounds of him still buried inside his brother.
The Braavosi man exhaled heavily. “Lucky little prince. I’d kill to have Prince Baelor empty himself inside me like that.”
“Or the younger one,” the Pentoshi girl added, licking her lips. “All shy and pretty with that long hair… until his brother turned him into a moaning mess.”
One of the Lyseni women smirked, though her eyes were dark with lust. “We won’t get a turn. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. Dragons are greedy with their treasures. But fuck… listening to that was almost as good.”
They lingered a while longer, trading heated glances, bodies still buzzing with unsatisfied arousal, before slowly drifting away — each of them painfully turned on and more than a little jealous of the silver-haired boy currently dripping with his big brother’s cum.
“Gods be good…” the Dornish woman breathed, thighs clenched tight. Her hand was blatantly between her legs now, rubbing slowly through her thin silks.
The Pentoshi girl let out a soft, needy whimper as they heard Prince Baelor’s low, rough voice commanding Maekar.
“He has the boy on his knees…” she whispered. “Listen to those wet sucking sounds. The little prince is still shaking from coming so hard and he’s sucking Prince Baelor like an eager whore.”
A particularly wet, filthy slapping sound echoed through the door — Prince Baelor’s heavy cock striking Maekar’s tongue and face.
The Lyseni woman’s eyes widened. “Did you hear that? He pulled out and he’s slapping his cock on the boy’s tongue… rubbing it all over his pretty face. Seven hells, I’m dripping down my thighs just imagining it.”
The Braavosi man groaned quietly. “Prince Baelor is filthy. He’s treating his own brother like a cheap brothel slut — cock-slapping his tongue, smearing precum everywhere. And the boy is just taking it. Kneeling there with his mouth open like a good little cocksleeve.”
Another collective shiver went through them as they heard Prince Baelor’s breathing grow ragged and his dirty praise:
“Keep your mouth open — just like that… I’m going to come all over that pretty face.”
The Dornish woman moaned softly. “He’s going to paint him. Fuck, I want to see it so badly. That beautiful silver-haired boy on his knees, covered in his big brother’s cum…”
When Prince Baelor finally came with a deep, guttural groan, the whores could hear everything — the wet sounds of his cock stroking over Prince Maekar’s tongue and face, the soft, broken whimpers from the younger prince as he was marked.
The Pentoshi girl was breathing fast, almost whimpering herself. “He came all over his face… I can picture it. That innocent, pretty face absolutely ruined with thick ropes of Targaryen seed. Dripping from his lashes, sliding down his cheeks, some of it on his tongue…”
“He’s completely claimed him,” the Myr boy said, voice hoarse with lust. “Not just fucked him — he owns him. The way he talks to the boy… calling him his perfect little brother while covering his face in cum. I’ve never been so jealous in my life.”
The older Lyseni woman smirked even as she squeezed her breasts, clearly aching. “Targaryens really are dragons. Possessive, greedy, and filthy. We won’t get a single touch. Prince Baelor would probably burn us alive if we even looked at his little brother wrong now.”
The Dornish woman licked her lips slowly. “I’d let Baelor fuck my throat raw if I could watch those two up close. Or clean the cum off the younger one’s face with my tongue while Prince Baelor watches…”
They stayed pressed against the wall, bodies hot and throbbing with unsatisfied arousal, listening to the low murmurs and soft whimpers still coming from inside the room.
None of them had ever been more turned on — or more aware that the two princes were completely off-limits.