The Hound and the Whore Pt. 02

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"I will kill you, Clegane!"

"You wanted to kiss me. Now you want to kill me, which is it, little whore?" Sandor laughed, placing a kiss on her cheek. "If you can't fight me, how will you fight them, stupid girl," he whispered in her ear, giving her a sinister laugh before throwing her onto the bed.

Melly gave him an evil glare sitting up from the bed; her head was spinning.

"You will stay in this room for the rest of the night."

"No!"

Sandor shook as he growled, "Yes!"

"Fuck you!"

Melly looked at him in disgust. Had she had a sword, she would use it on him, feeling tears well up in her eyes from being powerless.

"You already have." The Hound licked his lips, standing over her on the bed, "Why does Little Finger want you to fuck the King?"

Melly hesitated to answer, dropping her head to take a deep breath. Sandor was correct. She was terrible at lying.

"Something about jealous friends and rich families. I don't know. The man speaks in fuckin' riddles," she mumbled in defeat.

The Hound laughed, knowing what Lord Baelish wanted to happen. The cunning cunt thought him dumb enough that he would harm the King over a whore

Melly straightened her dress, adjusting her hair, staring at his mammoth body, shaking with laughter above her. Melly folded her arms, hating that he was mocking her.

"Don't laugh at me!"

Sandor chuckled, "Aye, bet he promised to marry you off to a Lord, life of laying on your back and being beaten. Same as now."

"I do not wish to marry a savage in your country. Your men are fragile compared to my men."

Sandor scoffed, "Where are your men, tiny whore? You trust that feeble Lord Bealish, who is a dumb cunt."

"I'm not a whore anymore, Clegane. I'm a maid, and I will seduce the King."

"Seduce him?"

Melly nodded somberly, "Yes, seduction."

"Little finger would send a mean prudish whore for his majesty," Sandor laughed.

Melly gasped at his vulgarity and folded her arms, "I am beautiful, and you are-."

The Hound laughed louder, making her face turn bright red with embarrassment.

"A beautiful shoddy whore for the King. And I should be jealous, he said?"

"You are an ugly man!" Melly yelled, standing to her feet.

The harsh reminder of his deformity broke his laughter, "Find yourself lucky. You won't have to do anything. The man would fuck a sheep if it got too close. You're better off wiping tables and the Queen's ass."

Sandor grunted, shaking his head at the foolish girl. Putting the top back on his skin, he went for the door.

Melly was heading the opposite way down the dark hallway when a shrill scream ripped through the corridor--whirling around to see one of the guards fondling a young handmaid in the distance. Melly was concerned and ran toward the Hound to hide behind him, grabbing at his waist.

"Fucking cunts," Sandor mumbled; he smirked as he looked back at Melly's genuinely fearful face. "You were safer at the brothel,"

"Go kill them!" she ordered, pushing him up.

"No, I can't kill my men."

"I'll follow behind you. You will tell them to leave me be," Melly explained. Her knees were shaking as she followed close behind him, her hand on the straps of his armor.

"No, go to the King. Do your duties, girl."

He pulled away from her hold to walk faster. If the woman thought she was so fucking clever, maybe she could talk her way out of being raped.

"You're jealous."

He stopped walking; a small laugh escaped as he turned around. Sandor's large fingers lightly brushed the breast that was missing a nipple, then knocked playfully on her head.

"You're pretty, but you're still missing a few parts."

He stepped toward his room with Melly on his heels but then she moved in front of him to avoid catching the other guards' eyes.

Her brown eyes twinkled even in the darkness, "You can not let them rape me, Clegane."

Melly shook his arm, her eyes wide with fear; it wasn't like her to beg for protection.

Sandor only gave her a wicked look as he opened his room door; he thought it was funny she was so afraid. Melly wasted no time running inside and sitting on his bed. She let out a sigh of relief.

"Trust the man who buys you, not the one who sells you, girl," he spat. "Stupid women who put their faith in Knights and Lords usually wind up dead," he ranted.

"And don't touch anything."

Sandor pointed at her in the darkroom before slamming the door. He went to the kitchen for more wine before returning to his post for the night.

When he returned, she was asleep but popped up from the bed quickly as the door shut behind him.

"Can I go?" she asked.

"You wanted to stay," he reminded her gruffly.

"Thank you, Clegane,"

Melly smiled, and she would have given him a warm embrace, but his harsh words were still fresh in her mind.

Once out of the door, she ran toward her chambers to join the rest of the ladies. She slipped into the small bed, waking only a few hours later.

-

-

-

Melly gave a slight yawn as she brushed the Queen's hair that morning, exhausted; she hadn't gotten any sleep thinking of ways she could get the King alone.

"Am I boring you, girl?" Cersei asked sarcastically.

"No."

"Your Grace," she quickly added.

"Leave us," she told the other woman, who bowed before she left.

Alone with the Queen, Melly stiffed her back, holding another yawn.

"Lord Baelish told me of your talents," the Queen smiled weakly, looking at her through the mirror.

"I've only ever brushed my hair, your Grace," she mumbled.

Cersei looked at the whore in confusion, grabbing the brush out of her hand and placing it on the dresser. Glancing at Melly up and down, amused that she didn't hold a fearful expression.

"Have you fucked my husband yet?" she asked bluntly.

"Heaven's no, your Grace. I would never dream of interfering with your marital bed. I'm only here to serve you."

Cersei's face gave an annoyed expression, still eyeing the girl's features.

"I will serve you well," Melly announced, bending down to her new Queen.

"Calm yourself, child. I've leased you for this duty. Although Lord Baelish has told me you are very clever at tricking men, even the Dog is pleased with you," she explained.

Melly cringed at the fowl name they called Clegane. Last night, he had saved what she had left of her virtue after all.

Melly flinched as the Queen interrupted her thoughts and touched her hair, and placed a finger on her cheek, moving her face from one side to the other. Melly wasn't sure what the woman was searching for, but she kept the same plain smile.

"Have you?"

"No," Melly whispered.

"And why not?"

"I've only been here a day," she laughed nervously.

"Are you fearful of your majesty? Does power frighten you, child?"

"No. No, yes, it does. I am frightened," she bowed, "I am a lowly whore amongst royal presence."

Melly heard the Queen's chuckle and peered up in confusion, "Your Grace," she added, getting up from her knees.

Lord Baelish could have told her the bitch was in on it. She brushed off her dress, trying to calm her anxiety; her jaw was tight from holding in her yawns and holding her fake smile.

"When you do, I want to know every detail, everything you discuss. I hear other than the Dog. You have not been very outgoing."

"Sandor is the only one, your grace, I assure you,"

"Sandor? The Dog seems fond of you. Hopefully, you haven't grown attached as well," Cersei smirked.

"Clegane would fuck any whore, your grace. I'm not special, missing a few parts," Melly explained.

The Queen chuckled, "You are exceptional, my dear. Your eyes, your hair...." Cersei paused as she turned toward the mirror to examine her reflection. "You look just like her," she turned her nose up in disgust.

Melly stared at her, confused, "Should I continue, your grace?" Melly asked, giving a small smile even though the woman's face made her angry.

The Queen rolled her eyes as she looked at Melly through the mirror, handing her back the compact brush.

Melly held on tight to her smile to push back the anger she felt for the woman.

-

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-

After dinner, she skipped going to the kitchen, spending her time searching for the drunk King. If everyone was in on this scheme, they sure didn't give her a fair opportunity to succeed. It would be far too suspicious to go around asking where he was. As she walked the halls, she met a giggling group of handmaids.

"Melly, you should have seen it," one laughed.

The women had just witnessed prince Joffery become afraid of a little bug; he had screamed, commanding his guard to kill the insect. They were all fiddled with laughter over the scene.

"What?" she asked, annoyed.

They suddenly became quiet; Melly stared at them as if they were crazed.

"What did you foolish women see?" Melly asked again, losing her temper.

"Yes," Joffery sounded from behind her, "What are you peasants laughing at?" Joffery asked.

The frightened women went to bow to the boy Prince and his Dog. Melly took it upon herself to walk away, going back up the corridor. She had to find the King, not waste time with the prince and his pet.

"Where are you going?" the Prince called out behind her.

Melly sensed the call was for her, but she kept walking anyway.

"You, stop!" He screeched.

She wanted to laugh at the young Prince's high-pitched voice; she chuckled, rolling her eyes as Melly rounded the corner away. A bald fat man met her; Melly gave him a hasty look as she passed.

"Pardon me."

Melly kept walking, ignoring the robed man. Why did everyone want to discourage her? She had to get out of this place, and back to the brothel, she thought. She'd agree to fuck and suck whomever to remove herself from this Castle and her duty to fuck the King.

Once outside, Melly ran to the brothel. Out of breath, when she finally walked inside, she marched up to Little Finger. Melly looked like a spectacle. Her hair was wet with sweat causing the black dye to stain the sides of her face.

The Lord gave her a stern look. She was not supposed to be here.

"What are you doing?"

"Can I go back to cleaning, or I could whore? I won't complain."

Melly pouted when he shook his head, looking toward the barroom and seeing the King sitting at a table drinking.

"He's here," Melly stated and started to stroll toward him.

"Go back to the keep," Little Finger ordered, grabbing her shoulder.

"I've been looking for him all night," Melly said, her breath ragged.

"GO!"

Melly jumped at never hearing his voice get so loud. It didn't surprise her much. she had never truly trusted the man.

Upon exiting, she bumped straight into a man whose armored hand clasped around her bicep. Melly almost jumped out of her skin until she saw his scarred face.

"Fuck!" she placed a hand on her heart, "You're frightening in the dark."

"Why did you run? I had to fucking chase you," Sandor griped

"I presumed you were coming to lick some other whore." Melly mocked.

He grimaced, pulling her back toward the castle.

"Come on, The Prince says you're to be punished," Sandor explained sternly. "Save yourself some trouble. Learn to follow orders."

"Well, we both know how you like to punish whores," Melly smirked as The Hound turned toward her.

Sandor had enough of the fowl-talking whore, he hit her on the top of her head, and she fell peacefully into his arms. Beautiful bitch, he thought as he carried her back to the castle.

-

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-

When Melly awoke in a dark room, even though she could barely make out his frame sitting in the chair in the dark room, she knew whose bed she was in. Her head hurt, and her nerves were on edge as she stood up.

Melly rubbed her head, "Did you fucking hit me?"

"Aye, the only time I've ever got you to shut up. I liked it."

"Shut up," she glared at him in the darkness, "And give me wine."

Sandor handed her the skin, watching as she chugged heavily.

"Give me that." Sandor chastised, "That's enough.

"I want more," Melly said, "I want to be drunk."

"Like the King," Sandor chuckled.

"Fuck the king! I hate him."

"Then, how were you supposed to seduce him?" he asked.

"Same way I did you."

He gave a hearty laugh that made her face scrunch in anger, "How? Bitch and cry?" Sandor taunted. "The Queen does that enough."

"I don't fuckin' know."

Melly sighed, laying back on his bed and looking up at the tall ceilings. "If this doesn't work out, I could be septa," she shrugged, although she knew death would be her punishment for failure.

Sandor laughed at the thought of her being one. "You want to make the Queen happy? Stay away from the King," he said, removing his armor to post it on the chair.

"Move over. I sleep on this side."

"We aren't going to," she asked, putting her eyes on his groin.

Sandor looked at her for a moment as if he was inspecting her. Lifting her dress, he turned his nose up, smirking when he saw the rage come to her face.

"What are you looking for?" Melly snatched her hem back down.

"Your cunt."

"You are a vulgar man," Melly scowled.

"What do you call it? A Sponge cake? Bloodmoon taffy?" Sandor playfully lifted her dress.

Melly popped his hand, "Do not mock my flower, Clegane!"

"Aye, a little blossom? A flower lily?"

"You wish to put your thing into it like a wild steed," Melly looked up at him in disgust even though the idea made her drip with desire.

Sanford scowled, "I don't like you nor your dry little cunt."

"You used to wail and moan inside me like a whore," Melly smirked, realizing she was getting a rise out of him.

"It wasn't good. I've had hundreds better," Sandor announced.

Melly's face flushed with jealousy, "You are a whore!"

"And? You're a cunt with a cunt." Sandor laughed, "How are you to be a septa?"

"You are a mean ugly man." Melly moved to get up, but Sandor pushed her back, "Why can't I go?" she asked

"You haven't been punished yet."

Melly moved toward the wall when he laid down, turning his back toward her. After a while, she sat up, looking to see if his eyes were open.

"Go to sleep, or I'll fuck you," he gruffed, pushing his back toward her.

"You're a cunt," she mumbled, pushing his back.

His eyes popped open to glare back at her. "You're a snobby whore" he spat, pushing his back.

Melly grimaced as she became pinned between the wall and him. "Move," she shoved his hard body, "over."

Sandor turned to face her. Melly didn't believe the man would truly hurt her, but she flinched when he touched her cheek.

Sandor stared at her rosy brims, letting his fingers brush them lightly.

Melly bit down on his thick finger.

"You want me to hit you again?" He shouted, shaking off the soreness.

"You want to kiss a whore," she taunted.

Sandor snorted as she stuck her lips out, pretending to kiss him. He could barely make out her deep dimples when she smiled.

Sandor turned on his back and closed his eyes, "I'm not paying you, and I'm not a raper."

"You kissed me before." Melly wasn't sure why she wanted his lips on hers, but if she was to stay here, she wanted his kisses, and her body craved his touch.

"Save your kisses for the King, girl."

"I wouldn't kiss the King," Melly pouted.

"But you would kiss his Dog? Go to sleep, foolish girl."

"I am not a fool..." she said softly, placing her head on his shoulder, "I don't want to do it."

Sandor said nothing, unsure what she meant by it, and his pride wouldn't allow him to ask her. Melly placed her hand on his chest, and he quickly pushed it away.

"Are you angry with me?" Melly whispered, placing her hand back on his chest.

Shaking his head, Sandor sighed and bit his bottom lip to ease the painful erection in his trousers. The punishment of spending the night with him was causing him the most turmoil.

Not smelling his foul scent, Melly nudged closer and released her hand from his heart.

"Why are you so miserable, so cruel and mean?" Her heart pounded with passion wanting to touch him.

"I can make me happy, Clegane." Her warm hand drifted underneath his stained tunic, rubbing the fluffy hairs on his hard stomach and chest.

With his breathing ragged, Sandor choked out his words, "Huh, go. Uh, go to sleep, girl."

The delicate caresses were killing him softly, and he nearly gasped when her small hand glided along his stiff member. He couldn't find the strength to remove her hand but grunted in frustration, his voice becoming hostile.

"Stop it," He groaned in anguish, "I do not like you, woman. As a maid or whore."

"Will you shut up?" Melly giggled, sliding inside his worn pants, "You're flesh likes me."

With the Hound making shallow breaths, Melly withdrew his long thick cock. The texture on her fingers and recalling how good it had once felt caused her to bite her lip. A viscous substance leaked from the tip, and she used it as lubrication for her raunchy hand movements. Watching the Hound's chest rise and fall, Melly worked his thickness between her palms.

Sandor couldn't hold back as lust knocked into his weakened mind. Grabbing Melly by the waist, he flipped her with little effort and brought her onto his face. Yanking her cotton undergarments to the side, he lapped greedily at her dripping little cunt. A sweet tang coated his beard and lips. He was surprised that she had also been so full of desire.

"You are leaking," Sandor breathed out, "For who?"

Melly only giggled before plunging to taste him. Lapping her tongue over his tip, she savored the salty mix trickling from his cock while he licked her cunt like a wild animal.

"Fucking hell, suck it," Sandor murmured against her pleasure dot.

Taking his cock into her mouth, Melly tried to be seductive and do what she had seen the other whores do. It was of no use. He didn't require an alluring performance, the act alone was enough, and after a moment of pressure from her warm mouth, Sandor released a fiery stream of cream. She flinched as the Hound growled beneath her causing delicious vibrations in her silky folds. Melly gagged and spit but kept her hand on his cock. She stroked, sending out the rest into her palm.

Overwhelmed with gratitude, Sandor sucked on Melly's clit. With wild laps and licks, he made her delighted. The same hands that had killed men relaxingly kneaded her delicate flesh. Holding her hand over her mouth to quiet her need to squeal, Melly rolled her hips faster on his mouth. A spark of pleasure radiated through her, and she fell beside him in a heap of mush.

Her breathing was ragged, and sweat-soaked her forehead. Sandor swiped it off, pushing back her black strands. His rough fingers felt gentle.

Quivering, Melly asked, "What do you do to me?"

"The same thing you do to me," he replied in a rugged whisper, kissing her cheek.

"You can go to sleep now, little whore. I'm happy," Sandor chuckled.

Melly wasn't sure what it was, but she treasured it. She loved how his arms enveloped her petite body. He delivered wet kisses to her neck until she drifted to sleep in his embrace.

-

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-

Sandor's bulky arms and long legs were wrapped tightly around Melly as the sept bell rang in the distance. A knock at the door startled Sandor awake. He groaned, pushing his hair out of his face, shocked when he saw her in his bed.

Fuck He thought.

Out of all the drunken nights he had, never had he overslept. He was usually the first guard on duty when the Royal family came out of their chambers. He blamed the whore maid for his laziness.

Sandor stumbled out of bed to open the door. His eyes widened, standing up straighter as the King barged inside.

"Gods, Clegane, I see you're keeping my wife's maids busy, or is she keeping you busy," Robert gave a hearty chuckle.

Melly stirred when she heard his loud, boisterous voice. She quickly jumped out of bed, pushing her silk skirt down, and shamed herself for getting caught.