A Song of Lust and Desire: Chapter V: The One In Which Cat Meets a Catspaw
Introduction:
I do not own anything in the “A Song of Ice and Fire” book series, nor the characters living in it. They wholly belong to George R.R. Martin, and I most certainly don’t make any money from the writing of this story.
(M/F, Inc, NC)
Catelyn Stark was distraught. No, Catelyn Stark was ruined.
Her second son, Bran, was found after falling from the tallest tower in Winterfell, his back crushed and his legs useless – if he even survives. He hasn’t so much as woken up since the accident. Her beloved husband, Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and the North and now Hand of the King, delayed his departure as long as he could but he was gone now too, taking with him half the servants of Winterfell, but more importantly her dear daughters Arya and Sansa.
At least he had the decency to send the bastard Snow to the Wall. Oh, I’d trade the bastard’s life in a heartbeat to the Stranger, even if it would make Arya so very upset, if he would only give me back my Bran. He wanted to be a -Knight-. By the seven, please spare him!
She hasn’t left Bran’s bedside, even to bid them goodbye. That’s where her eldest son Robb found her, restlessly smoothing Bran’s black hair back from his pale, sweaty forehead. Catelyn barely lifted her blue eyes from Bran’s unconscious form, and pushed a stray strand of auburn-colored hair over her shoulder. “My son,” her voice cracked with emotion.
Stepping around the bed to his mother, Robb embraced his mother in his arms, attempting to soothe her. Thankful for the effort, her dainty hands rested onto his forearms, where she found Robb’s muscles to be thick, and stiff. So much like Ned. Oh, how I miss him. Her fingers splay out over Robb’s arms, tracing the outline of his muscles. Lifting her eyes to stare at the face of her oldest son, Catelyn Stark smiled softly before whispering “You look just like your lord father.”
Robb smiled downward into the face of his mother, sliding his eyes over her noble features. Catelyn Stark was once a beautiful woman, and had retained much of that beauty over the many years since her youth. Robb’s strong hand slides through Catelyn’s auburn locks and, featherly, his thumb brushes over her ear and her earlobe, sending a shiver up her spine.
His voice whispered close to her face, his breath washing over the pale skin of his mother, “Are you cold, mother? Shall I heighten the fire?”
Burning her cheeks crimson, Catelyn slid her hands onto her eldest son’s chest and murmured, “No…that felt good,” as she began to trace the outline of his defined muscles through the thin fabric of his homespun doublet.
Robb inhaled subtly, filling his nose with the intoxicating scent of the woman in his arms, “Mother…I…”
Catelyn lifted her hand and pressed her finger to his lips, silencing him. Her fingertip slid along his lower lip, eliciting a low moan from the back of his throat. Catelyn leaned closer to her eldest son and whispered throatily to him , “Call me Catelyn.” before pausing tentatively and replacing her fingertip with her mouth, kissing her son.
After a brief moment of shock, Robb’s strong arms wrapped around her lithe waist, pulling her against his broad chest. His mouth hungrily attacked her soft, plush lips, and the pair stumble back and bump into a nearby table, causing the bits and baubles Maester Luwin had lain out to help treat Bran to wobble and topple.
Powerful hands jerk open Catelyn’s blouse, the tearing of the fabric covered up by both a feminine gasp, and a low growl – wolflike – from Robb of, “Catelyn.” Moments later, Robb Stark, heir of Winterfell, descended on the pert nipple and slightly sagging breast of his mother with a ravenous mouth and searching tongue.
Lust clouded Catelyn’s mind as she shuddered under the tongue of her son, flicking and nibbling and sucking at her breast. Rob’s hands descend to her skirt and girdle, and with a few fumbling and inexperienced tug, the garments lie pooled on the floor. Her mind continued to reel as Robb grabbed her wide hips and lifts her from the floor, settling her ass onto the table nearby.
Her voice, dripping with desire, protested slightly “We…shouldn’t…Robb…,” while her eyes stared desirously into her son’s blue eyes. Despite her protesting, her slender hands already moved for his belt, and needily loosened his pants, fishing her hands inside her son’s pants, wrapping her slim fingers around his thick and hardening shaft and pulling his cock into sight.
Her eyes widened at the sheer size of his thick cock. Robb Stark groans as Catelyn leans down and slides her tongue and her hands up-and-down over his smooth shaft, “You are…impressive, my son. You take after your father even more.”
Trembling hands tangled in her Tully-red hair as his moans increase in volume while the soft lips of Catelyn slip over his cockhead, sucking his cock into her wet, warm mouth, “Mother, I’ve never…”
Parting her lips from her son’s cock, Catelyn fluttered her tongue featherly against the twitching cockhead and replies, need evident in her voice, “Then take me, my son. Take me as a man.”
Catelyn’s legs parted on the table as her son lunges between them. Her skinny arms wrap around Robb’s neck and attack his broad neck with her lips, biting and nibbling the light complexion of his throat. Robb’s hand surrounded his cock and, with all the patience of a virgin, plunged his erection into the warm, inviting folds of his mother’s cunt.
The pitch of Catelyn’s moans lift loudly as her cunt stretched widely to accept the thick intrusion of her son’s cock, and her eyes popped open – to stare at the unconscious form of Bran on the bed on the other side of the room. Her eyelids flutter closed in pleasure as the cock buried in her cunt begins to pump in-and-out with a gentle motion – as if Robb doesn’t wish to hurt her.
Catelyn’s fingernails clawed at his shoulders as the pair make gentle love on the table. Her inner cunt trembles on Robb’s cock, as the young teen plunges faster-and-faster into her mother. Catelyn’s mind, body, and voice exploded entirely in orgasmic pleasure as she throws her head backward and screamed her release to the ceiling. Robb stared hard at his mother’s contorting face, and, despite his best efforts, unwillingly shudders and builds quickly to his peak, “Catelyn…I can’t believe..this…”
Catelyn silenced him by grabbing his hair and planting her mouth firmly on him, kissing him deeply and her son responds by shoving his tongue into her mouth. Her toes curl in continual pleasure as she trembles in climax. Robb, overwhelmed by pleasure, tensed entirely, and swims in his thoughts, trying in vain to delay his orgasm.
Robb’s mind flashes back to everything Theon had said about sex, and realized that, without a doubt, Catelyn’s cunt doubled everything he said. He growls wolfishly as his climax washed over him, gushing his hot seed deep into the soaking cunt of his mother’s burning, soaked, trembling cunt. Catelyn pants again-and-again into her son’s mouth and whimpers in inconceivable pleasure. As the pair shuddered and lingered in their mutual bliss, a gentle knock at the door and a creak drive them into a frantic frenzy.
Robb jerked back from his mother and stuffed his wet cock into his pants, while Catelyn grabbed her nearby robe and slipped into it. It seems only fortuitous luck that the person opening the door did not throw it open, and took their time in their task. Master Luwin stood in the open door, expression blank on his face as his eyes bore into Robb, “Robb, the library tower…it is in flames.”
Robb ran to the window to check, then swore and said, “Luwin, lets get some water bucket trains and start to do what we can to stop it!” The teen lingered his eyes on Catelyn’s eyes, before need drives him out the door into the hall. Luwin paused a moment in the door, a lingering and knowing smile playing over his mouth as he looked at Catelyn, before following Robb out the door.
Catelyn sighed heavily, her body still suffering little trembles and shakes. The Lady of Winterfell crossed the room to Bran’s bedside, clad only in a haphazard robe that requires one of her hands to hold shut.
How could that have happened? I have known no men since my wedding. Before that…
Catelyn’s mind flashed briefly to that night, on her name day. The feel of feminine breath, Brynden’s rough, course hands, and the gaze of Hoster…
Catelyn rested her hand on Bran’s shoulder and sadly smiled at her unconscious son, before leaning over and kissing his forehead. She murmured to his forehead and said, “Perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising that it happened.”
The door creaked open and Catelyn’s eyes linger on her son for a moment longer, before lifting to the door. She paused entirely at the rough, dirty, rag-clad man in the doorway. A blade flashed in his hand and he mumbled unhappily as he crossed the room to Bran, “You weren’t supposed to be here. No one was supposed to be here.”
Catelyn’s scream in surprise turned to a scream of terror as the dagger plunged at her throat, only halted by her hands releasing her robe – revealing her nude body – and wrapping around the blade, causing deep slices to her palms. The catspaw paused entirely as his eyes drifted down Catelyn’s revealed body. Using this distraction to her advantage, Catelyn shoved the man back, leaving bloody handprints on his shirt and running for the window to call for help.
Catelyn doesn’t get more than two steps as the strong hand of the Catspaw wrapped around her elbow, and drug her screaming to the bed. A brief but ineffective struggle later, the naked Catelyn found herself bent face-first over the bed – and over her unconscious son Brandon Stark. The Catspaw snarls, “You weren’t suppose to be here…but I am glad you are.” as he kicks the Lady of Winterfell’s legs open, revealing her leaking cunt.
Catelyn’s eyes stared at Brandon’s face as she began to sob. Her struggles to lift herself from Brandon are undone as the catspaw shoved her back down, her breasts smashing against the young Stark’s chest. Catelyn parted her lips in an attempt to bargain with the man, but her words are instantly lost, and her eyes popped open wider as the man unceremoniously shoved his hard, engorged cock into her vulnerable cunt.
Tears freely flowed down Catelyn Stark’s cheeks as the common catspaw – a beggar, a vagrant, someone far beneath her station – violently raped her on top of her unconscious son. Unlike the recent, tender lovemaking between her and Robb, the catspaw held nothing back, ruthlessly and mercilessly shoving and piercing her cunt with every single thrust deep into her body. In complete surprise to herself, her cunt walls trembled and another orgasm shudders through her body.
The catspaw quickly tensed and groaned as he fills Catelyn’s cunt with messy, leaking cum. Catelyn looked over her shoulder and shuddered, seeing the shadow enter the room. There was a low rumble, a barely growled threat, and the wolf was upon him. The man’s scream lasted barely a second, before the beast wrenched back his head, and tore out half the man’s throat.
Catelyn slumped to the ground on her knees, sobbing, as the direwolf laid down peaceful on the bed, next to Bran. The wolf was looking at her, jaws crimson and dripping. It’s eyes glowed yellow in the darkness, and she whispers to it, “Thank you.”
Catelyn began to laugh hysterically, and that was how they found her a few moments later, when Robb and Luwin and half the guardsmen in Winterfell burst into the room. As Robb helped her out of the room Catelyn’s thoughts kept wandering back to the trembling orgasm that the catspaw had given her during her rape.
