GOT: Wolf Becomes Stag

But before long, she heard Robert's grunt and felt his wild throbs inside her walls. She felt the scorching burns in her belly, and looked down at the small gap between them, wondering if she could see that swollen thing spread her wide.

"Ah! Gods!" She cried out.

Robert had lifted her ass slowly and rammed her down hard, earning an intense scream from her, and his pleasuring grunt. He didn't care about the noise anymore as Catelyn was no longer an option. His own Kingsguards now respected him and ignored his fucking.

He kept going, swinging her in front of his large frame like a toy, and letting his cock welcome her with a deep collision, for this was a mere transaction. The back of her thighs slapped against his pelvis, harder and harder as the sounds echoed in the room. He stuffed every last inch of his cock into her feverishly hot flesh, relishing the wonderful sensations of her pussy lips puckering around his straining erection.

He could feel all the blood rushing to his loins, his cock straining with all his seeds looking for a way out. He felt his mind clearing up a little, struggling to form thoughts while his body continued the savage fucking…

He allowed Osha to hug him completely, letting her rest her head on his chest as she moaned and muttered recklessly, louder and louder. Her body instinctively followed his rhythm, her belly arched to meet each possessive thrust, her hips rocking toward him to take him further.

"Ahhh!!" She screamed against his chest. Ripples of ecstasy flooded through her, submerging her in pure bliss. Her pussy burst out leaking as her body trembled on the very edge of infinity.

The slaps echoing around them turned to squelches, her nectar squashing between them as his cock continued to plow into her.

But he reached his limit at the same time, as his balls were unable to hold the royal nectar anymore. Her slimy, spent, climaxed cunt massaged him in the most perfect ways. Her tightness was the proof, he was the first man of his size to explore her flower.

"Huh!" Robert threw her body up and down his whole length while matching the plunges with his thrusts. He didn't know how deep he was hitting, lost in the wonderful slippery smooth feeling. All he knew was that his cock vanished each time in her Wildling cunt, striking as deep as possible.

Before long, he felt the twitch deep in his loins, ready to release his batter.

Clear-headed enough, and not wanting to risk it, he quickly threw Osha onto the bed on her back, like a sack. Her long legs spread wide, her small breasts heaving, face flushed red. She didn't even flinch, lost in pure ecstasy.

Robert stepped between her legs, against the bed. He stroked his cock a couple more times and let out a loud grunt of pure ecstasy.

"Aaagh… there…"

Like a pipe with days of pressure built, he spewed forth his sticky seed. The long splashes, like cobwebs sprinkled all over her frame. Her belly, tits, and face, multiple long gushes and strings of cream covering her withered, wiggling body.

He kept stroking for a while until a few drops coated her lips too, giving her a taste of the King. By then, he panted, his manhood growing limp right in his grip.

With great admiration and satisfaction, he watched Osha heave for breaths.

"Wildings aren't as wild as me, it seems," Robert murmured, noticing Osha seemed out of her mind, her gaping pussy twitching at the sudden emptiness inside her walls.

Let's just sleep.

Far more rational now, Robert moved Osha into a better position on the pillow and then slid beside her, maintaining distance since she was still coated in his culmination.

But her warmth was exactly what he needed that night. Even a whole gold Dragon was worth such a willing, wild woman.

This is for the best. I can finally think clearly.

####

Think he did. Robert called the lords present at Winterfell for a meeting. The soldiers were already there, prepared to fight since it had just been a night. At the same time, word about Moat Cailin started to spread.

"With Victarion dead, Balon doesn't have much muscle left to throw around. Whoever's parading as his squid has something rotten planned. But before we march on Moat Cailin, we'll need the West Coast locked down. Once we're tangled at the Neck, the rest of the North's wide open for the taking." Robert looked at the map of the North to discuss the strategy. "Ryswell and Glover will leave half their men at home, same for Winterfell. But the East Coast houses? They'll march with every sword they've got."

"I shall aid in encircling Moat Cailin," Lord Howland Reed added. "The last battle left none alive to tell the tale, and so this new host is blind to how we previously won."

Ser Barristan stepped forward and moved a few pieces on the map. "The hosts of the Crownlands and Stormlands shall form a ring about His Grace, that no harm may befall him. Should our suspicions prove true, know this battle is not solely for the defense of the North, but for the very throne itself."

The lords were smart. Nobody needed to be told who the likely culprit behind this mess was. All fingers pointed at a few deranged and ambitious fools.

"So be it! Prepare to march at dawn." Robert declared and ended the gathering.

As the lords moved out of the gathering chamber, Ser Barristan walked closer to Robert to remind him of the dangers.

"The lions and the falcons are the likely culprits, Your Grace. I would urge you to tread carefully, this is no mere trap. The squids may not have an army anymore, but they still have plenty of ships."

"I know, Barristan. But it's not them I'm worried about." Robert looked at the map of the North, and then at the Riverlands. "There is no lack of ambitious fools in the realm."

####

The second battle of Moat Cailin overlapped with an intense thunderstorm. It was morning, yet it looked as if sunset was upon them. The rain made things harder, with visibility low. But it was God's gift as Robert was able to spread his men around Moat Cailin from both sides without being noticed.

Howland Reed called more of his men from Greywater Watch, letting Robert divide the army into smaller sizes, led by a crannogmen, deeper into the enemy territory without getting seen.

Then, by the middle of the day, all the men were in position. Robert took the one that suited him the most, surrounded by his most loyal soldiers.

The rain won't stop. Robert looked at the sky and frowned. Then, he looked behind at his soldiers, their feet completely bare, a decision he made after realizing how hard it was to walk with all that armor.

"Give the signal."

Since the rain didn't allow fire arrows, Ser Barristan used a horn instead. He blew into the old thing with a long breath, its ear-piercing sound rippling through all directions.

"Cripple the commanders! Kill the rest!" Robert bellowed and ushered his men to enter the battle.

The previous battle of Moat Cailin came in handy. Robert's soldiers already knew the locations best suited to hide, or for an ambush. While the men of other Northern lords suffered a little, the Crownlands and the Stormlands army butchered the enemies.

Blond hair. Robert sliced through anyone brave enough to come near him. He slammed his warhammer into skulls and chests, but each time the helmet came loose, he noticed either pale brown hair or blonde.

"Haaaa!" He bellowed and killed with no regard for his safety. He felt piercing blades strike his back, shoulders, or legs, but he didn't bother with the wounds for each morning brought him the magic of healing.

"Barristan! Find me their commander!"

The sound of swords clashing, men dying, and smashing warhammer echoed across the ruins of Moat Cailin until late evening. Just like last time, many men tried to run away, but Robert had already set up a perimeter to get them all. He was especially looking for the commanders, so anyone with decent armor was crippled and detained.

The 'Ironborn' army was sizable but not larger than Robert and North's combined. That fact only sent more alarms ringing through his head.

"Your Grace, I found him." Ser Barristan approached him with two Kingsguards dragging a crippled man. "I know him. He used to be Ser Kevan's squire."

Since the battlefield was going cold, Robert stopped killing and focused on the captured man.

Bam!

Before asking any questions, Robert smashed his warhammer on one of the crippled legs, ruining it into a minced mixture of flesh and bones.

"A man can hobble with one leg, but it's a sorry sight. Speak up, whelp, or I'll see how well you fare without both of them."

A squire was a squire, and a Lord was a Lord. Expecting a squire to lay down his life for something as petty as revenge was too much. The man broke down in pain and confessions, wailing even as there was truly no way to escape.

"We didn't know! We didn't know Victarion died! W-We took Moat Cailin and Lord… Lord Tywin forbade us to vacate it. We didn't want to hold this place, Your Grace, we wanted to return."

Robert frowned, "What was the plan? You knew you couldn't win alone."

"We aren't alone! W-We… Men from the Vale are marching here. They were supposed to arrive but the rain delayed them… this wasn't supposed to happen… this wasn't…" The man broke down in misery.

"Gather the men," Robert commanded urgently. "Send scouts to look for the Vale army."

As for the man they had captured, Robert didn't see any worth in keeping him alive.

Bam!

He gave a swift death, at least. A surprise to himself as he could feel his strength had grown at a rapid pace. He felt invincible, his strength far surpassing his prime. Back then, he caved in armors, but now he obliterated them, tearing them with enough force to rupture every organ in his enemies' bodies.

He could crush skulls and lift a horse if he tried. No more was there any doubt that this was magic. A blessing from the Warrior himself, it felt. But the same fact was a conundrum.

I pray to the Old Gods.

####

Night approached, and the thunderstorm subsided. Moat Cailin was turned into a fortress with torches everywhere and men patrolling every nook and cranny. The crannogmen also spread around to keep an eye on the shadows.

"Still no sign of them?" Robert saw Ser Barristan enter his temporary resting tent.

"None, Your Grace," Ser Barristan replied gravely. "It's as though Lord Bolton and his men have disappeared into the mists. I have dispatched a scout towards Winterfell, to determine if perhaps they have grown... bold in their ambitions."

"Ugh…" Robert clenched his fist, one hand rubbing his bearded face tiredly. Winterfell just couldn't catch a break it seemed. "Did you count the bodies?"

"All six thousand dead, Your Grace. Most were likely from Westerlands. Lord Tywin seems adamant about killing you."

"But now he has six thousand fewer men. It's a grave loss, Barristan. A loss that can't be recuperated for years to come," Robert replied and looked at his Kingsguard. "Any word on the Vale?"

"Three thousand men—"

The old Kingsguard shut his mouth as a loud horn from the southern side resounded. It was one of theirs, a sentry signal.

"They're here!" Robert grabbed his warhammer and stood up. "Let's see who's leading the Vale. I gave them a chance, but no more."

Robert, with fifty men, went towards the southern edge of Moat Cailin to see the Vale army. By then, they had already created a small blockade on the road thanks to some old boulders and rubble.

"Your Grace, that's Lord Yohn Royce," one of the Kingsguards commanding the men there announced. "He wishes to speak with you."

Robert looked at the distant gathered men, torches in their hands. There were about a dozen, but a few more were around them on their knees, faces not visible.

"Barristan, walk with me." Robert placed his warhammer on his shoulder and climbed to the other side of the blockade. Then, with twenty men surrounding him, he approached Lord Royce. He knew the man by his name, a tall, strong, proud, and noble lord.

Once they were just ten meters apart, Robert realized the men on their knees had sacks of clothes on their heads. The gray-haired Lord Royce stood proudly at the front.

"What brings you to this ruined castle, Lord Royce?" Robert boomed.

"Sanity," Lord Royce replied with a similarly loud voice. "Insanity has claimed Lady Lysa. Her son is of an age to wield a sword, yet she still breastfeeds him in the halls of the Eyrie like a babe. She conspires with Tywin to see you slain, and I volunteered to graciously take that role."

Robert's hands clenched on the handle of his warhammer. "Is that your final choice, Lord Royce? To follow a mad woman?"

"Your Grace…"

Thud!

Lord Yohn Royce fell to one knee all of a sudden, his men behind him followed after.

"Your Grace, I cannot stand idly by while such treachery unfolds. I had no choice but to take command of this host, to deal with the commanders and sway the lords who still lend their loyalty to Lysa. I'm here not to clash swords, but to join hands."

Robert took a breath of relief inside and measured his next words carefully.

"Traitors, I feel, hold no place in this realm." Lord Royce continued, and while kneeling, grabbed the sack of cloth on the nearest prisoner to him, revealing his face.

"Roose?!" Robert roared, furious.

"Lord Bolton has allied himself with Tywin Lannister. He hoped to join forces with the Vale and lead the armies against you. All in the hopes of becoming the North's new Great House." Lord Royce declared and placed a dagger on Roose Bolton's neck.

Robert glared at Roose Bolton, the man's face bloody from the likely beating. He already knew about the treacherous heart the Boltons had, and this was just the proof.

"Barristan, it looks like I'll have to drag my fat arse back to King's Landing if we're to launch a proper offensive," Robert whispered to his loyal Kingsguard.

The old Kingsguard straightened his back. "Are you certain about marrying Margaery?"

"Not yet." At that, Robert grunted, "But I need the Reach."

______________________

Check out Robert X Septa Unella & Myrcella X Sansa NSFW ART, ADVANCE chapters at [email protected]/MrPlotThickens Or Subscribestar.adult/mrplotthickens

Old Free Art on Discord: https://discord.gg/W5FdB6WXaP