A Comment on Age

All characters in this story are 18 years or older, despite their ages in the original fiction.

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There were far better places Cersei could have found herself, but none were as necessary as the most dreadful scene of all. After all, she could no longer cope with the poisoning words that Tommen used to talk back at her. If she would hear those dreadful words, ‘but Lady Margaery said…’ once more, she would personally go over there to put an end to the little Queen altogether.

Of course, she didn’t actually think that what she was doing now would put an end to any of it, but Cersei had no choice but to attack the problem at its root. Invited or not, Cersei would meddle, and she would see exactly just how Tommen was manipulated by the likes of a little, lesser Queen than she was, and had been, herself.

Though, of course, Cersei despised her current predicament. There was no place in the entirety of the world that she would want to find herself less. It was as though every minute she had to spend in the presence of the little Queen, Cersei despised her more. To some, for precisely that reason, she may seem like a bit of a masochist, but nothing could be further from the truth. She just wanted to get to the bottom of what was going on behind the scenes, and know exactly how those thoughts found their way into Tommen’s susceptible mind.

She showed up without invitation, and even Tommen seemed to be entirely unaware that his mother had planned to show up during dinner. His face showed an expression of confusion, which she only countered with a smile. /He should be happy to see me./ She thought. /He should not allow that little bitch to take my spot in his life./

“Your Grace!” It was Margaery’s sweet voice that droned through her ears. Cersei wanted to cringe at it, knowing exactly what type of emotion hid underneath, but Margaery showed no sign of it at all. She just sat there, at the table with her minions, where she was showered in an admiration that not even Cersei could find herself receiving anymore these days. “What have we done for you to grant us with your presence?”

To the people around them, Margaery’s words would be perfectly acceptable, but Cersei knew the truth. She could see through the facade and noticed perfectly well that Margaery only accepted Cersei’s presence because she was in the company of Tommen. Annoyingly, at the sound of Margaery’s welcoming words, his face only lit up further.

“It was about time I took a look at the way Tommen lives among you. I have no doubts, of course, that he is in good hands with you, but…”

“Take a seat, Your Grace. There should be plenty to feed another round belly,” Margaery interrupted. Her excitable expression almost made the fact that she had blatantly interrupted Cersei slip completely past everyone else. Had it not for the insult that had been thrown her way, the interruption would have been enough to make her feel sick with fury. 

The insult hit Cersei in her bosom, her breathing growing less and less stable. Nonetheless, she stepped towards the empty spot at the table, opposite Margaery and Tommen. The boy looked excited at first but was then easily distracted by the kittens that roamed around his chair. No wonder it was so easy for him to be manipulated by the likes of Margaery Tyrell when all the boy cared about was amusement and play.

“What is it you are serving today?” Cersei wondered. The plates upon the table were still empty, but the scent of food hung thick in the air. It might have been a delicious smell under any other circumstance, but right now it was far from. It made her feel only sicker.

“Pease pudding, rosehip soup, and roast herring Your Grace. Does it suit your palate?”

Cersei, now locking her eyes with Margaery, detested the bitch for taking the pending insult away from her already. Not that it stopped her from trying it, though. “Is it that you people prefer to eat?” Although it was far harder for her to make her expression seem friendly, she thought she did a good job at it. Tommen, for one, did not seem to notice even the faintest hint of hostility.

“It is an interesting choice, I have to admit, though I suppose that is merely a simple difference between us.”

“Yes, your Grace. We prefer to stay healthy. If we would eat roast boar all the time, we would never be able to fit in half of the clothes in our closets.” Margaery smiled sweetly, but the taunt was more than clear. All Cersei could do was to do her best not to feel insulted, but heat already rose inside of her stomach, swirling around within her so aggressively that she wondered how she was going to make it through dinner at all. “And I suppose, still being young, we must stay presentable. If we don’t, we would end up like…”

Margaery could practically hear the chuckling around her. She wasn’t sure whether it was really there, but her chest felt tight upon the humiliation. Before she could say anything about it, though, servants filled the room and began to fulfil their plating duties. Saying something through all that rattle would only make her look desperate, and so she had no choice but to wallow in the unpleasant sensation until all the noise had already died down.

“Make sure our guest has a sufficient meal to eat through,” Margaery told the servants. “We would not want to give her any less than she undoubtedly gets between the walls of her own chambers.”

Her predicament was growing more infuriating by the minute. With less and less to say and it becoming harder and harder for her to retain her composure, all she could do was nod and smile towards the servants who were doing as they were told. /She would have their heads/ she thought. /She would make it very clear that no such behaviour would ever be tolerated from them again./

“Is this enough for your mother, Tommen?” Margaery asked. “Does this resemble a sufficient meal?”

Tommen shrugged, as if he could not care less about the meal in question. “I personally think she does not need this much,” Tommen’s honesty, as always, was infuriating. Even if it was clear that he wasn’t saying to humiliate his mother in the slightest. “I would like there to be more for me. It’s me who still has to grow, isn’t it? Mother is far past the need to grow.”

“That seems to be right,” Margaery said. “I do believe she could do with a little less.” The look she threw in Cersei’s direction almost resembled a smirk, but it faded in the time it took for other eyes to land on her. “So that Tommen has some more, of course.”

“Wouldn’t you have prepared enough regardless?” Cersei snapped back. “Or would you risk your people going hungry?”

“Oh, of course, there is always more, but we shouldn’t have Tommen go through the hassle of needing to wait for it to properly cook, should we? He needs his strength, and we should not test his patience already.”

“I think his patience has been tested plenty.” At this point, it was no longer clear whether Cersei was referring to Tommen or whether she was speaking to herself, but to Margaery, it was completely clear. In fact, she seemed more than willing to play along with whatever game Cersei had started

In fact, with the confidence she had gathered within the walls of her own home, she seemed on top of everything, which was in itself enough reason for Cersei to lash out at her too. She had finally found a way to belittle her, without it seeming like the conversation was about much more than simply a Tommen.

“I suppose that is true,” Margaery said. She looked at the boy, unbothered by the conversation, though impatient to learn whether or not he was going to receive even more food. “So I suppose, for the sake of Tommen, or even for the sake of yourself, you may give something up to him if you feel you’ve been given too much.”

Sheer frustration had Cersei kicking her leg out underneath the table. She had not intended to hit anyone, but she could no longer keep herself contained. Upon doing this, however, she could feel the touch of a bare leg, which instantly made her so furious that she retracted in an instant.

Margaery clearly noticed it, but instead of pulling out her leg, she pushed it out even further. Cersei loathed the girl at the other side of the table, and silently hoped it would not be long until she would have her head on the plate, instead of this plate of poached pear that she had before her now.

“Give her something to drink now, please!” Margaery said. Cersei could see that the comment gained some chuckles from behind the lips of her beloved minions, which infuriated Cersei all the more. /I am the Queen. I will not be belittled./ “Your Grace, we want you to have everything you prefer. Fill her cup, please!” 

A nervous servant, seemingly aware of Cersei’s nearly explosive fury, did as he was told. His expression almost told Cersei that he was sorry, but that wasn’t good enough. Cersei made a mental note to see to him as soon as she finds herself out of her current predicament, and then he would regret ever having followed the wrong Queen. 

Cersei wanted to say something, but the leg against her own distracted her from doing so. It was a kick against her shins that did it, kicking her repeatedly as if the little Queen was looking for a response. Cersei almost didn’t give it, until the kicks became so violent that she had no choice but to give in. I will not be taunted. Not like this.

Margaery’s expression gave nothing away, making it nearly impossible for anyone else to detect what was really going on. Cersei hated her, dressed in her ugly green dress that made her look like a lettuce. How could anyone ever think she would more beautiful than Cersei was? The fact that Cersei worried about the little bitch was utterly insane, but she could not let it slip past her. Sometimes her mind was consumed with it, and she wondered how or when the little Queen would attempt to take everything away from her. Of course, though, all of that was based on nothing but a bad prophecy, and she would stop it before it ever gets there. 

Cersei kicked her back, seeing the bitch wince under her breath as she tried her best not to make it obvious. She looked down at her plate to hide the most of her expression, prompting Cersei to simply do it again. She had no intention to stop, as pain was the only thing that the stupid bitch would ever be supposed to feel. 

“I hope…” Margaery started. She threw Cersei somewhat of an intense look to tell her to stop doing this altogether, and Cersei only stopped to avoid attracting negative attention. “Your Grace, I hope you don’t feel uncomfortable sharing your night with a younger audience. I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or left out. Menopause, I suppose, is not a subject we would know too much about, and I suppose none of us knows wine like you do. And, of course, business is no topic to discuss during dinner either.”

Cersei’s eyes spat fury, causing her to not only kick the little Queen once more but to seek out the spot she knew would hurt the most. It was not the shins she aimed for, but instead, her foot found the sensitive spot between her legs. She kicked hard, seeing the look in Margaery’s eyes change from smug to pained, and then, finally, to silent fury. Not such a good look for such a sweet little Queen now, is it?

“It is nothing to worry about. Your youth is not a good look on you, nor is it particularly impressive. If anything, you may be able to learn from me if we manage to do this more often. Not that the experience of it is particularly pleasant, however, but time may change that.”

“Oh certainly, though things do grow older and wearier with time. Not everything ages well, which must be the same when it comes to the potential of a blossoming friendship. Don’t you agree?”

It was Tommen who took the need to speak away from them both, looking up at not Cersei, but Margaery. “What is menopause?” he asked, trusting Margaery with the answer to practically anything. 

“That,” Cersei said, before Margaery could even think about responding, “Is nothing for you to concern yourself with. This is not your business.”

“No, it indeed is not his business, nor is it mine,” Margaery said. Her voice was somewhat pained but no less hateful. Cersei could practically hear the triumph in her voice. “It is only your business. Isn’t it, Your Grace?”

It was at that that Cersei lost any remnant of cool she may have had. Her hands clenched tightly around her utensils and, with her foot, she kicked the bitch into her cunt once more. Again, Margaery winced, but she did not leave it like that this time around. Now, with Tommen bored of the conversation and his mind on something else, Margaery took the opportunity to match Cersei’s attack, kicking her in the cunt so hard that Cersei caught herself gasping on her sip of wine. 

“Oh, are you alright, Your Grace?” Margaery asked. The tone in which she spoke was filled with exaggerated and acted concern. The bitch almost made her loathe her own title with her continuous use of it. Margaery’s foot remained where it was, prodding against Cersei’s cunt and toying with the layer of fabric that still protected it. 

Cersei couldn’t afford to allow this to happen and therefore did exactly the same thing. After all, she could clearly see what it was what Margaery was trying, and the mere thought of being humiliated right now was far too much for her to accept. She was at the Tyrell dinner table, and she would not be humiliated by gasping on her own words. 

“Couldn’t be better,” Cersei responded. Her foot slipped beneath Margaery’s dress, finding the layer of fabric that protected the little cunt. Instead of toying with the fabric, however, like Margaery was doing, Cersei had already lifted her foot out of her shoe and used her toes to pull the fabric to the side, exposing her without remorse. ”A Queen must accustom herself with all manners of companies, although that’s not something that you need to worry about anytime soon.”

As Tommen threw her a frown, finally recognising the hostility for what it was, Cersei pushed her big toe between the girl’s labia and located the little clit. I will show you how to take it, she thought, but of course it had nothing to do with a desire for her to feel good, but to make her feel as humiliated as she was trying to make Cersei feel. She will suffer my humiliation. 

Her toe pressed against Margaery’s flesh, then circled it firmly around the bitch’s weak spot. She searched for Margaery’s eyes and tried her very best to see the differences. Her lips spread into a thin line, but against her touch, Cersei could feel her quiver, clit throbbing against the skin of her toe. She seemed not to know what was happening to her all the same, but Cersei was certain that that was all an infuriating act. Even at the table, she acted to have never been touched, but Cersei knew better than to believe even a word of it. 

It was when Cersei’s foot arrived at the hole of her cunt that she was suddenly stopped. Not by a hand, yanking her away, but by the foot that pressed against Cersei’s own cunt. It had now mimicked what Cersei had done to the little Queen, removing the fabric from her cunt, slipping it to the side, and then jamming it between her labia. However, where Cersei was out to put her through unwanted pleasure — the whore would probably like it, had it been any man she had ever laid her eyes upon — Margaery wanted the Queen to suffer. She noticed that when her clit was attacked, not with the skin of her foot, but by the raw nail on her big toe. It was a good thing that Cersei had a fork in her mouth, or she would have had nothing to bite down on. 

“Anything more to drink, your Grace?” Margaery asked. She seemed out of breath, attracting the attention of her minions only slightly before they went on with their chatter in a normal way. If Cersei didn’t know better, she would’ve thought that they knew exactly what was going on. “You look like you might need it.”

Cersei couldn’t speak, and was now forced to suffer the humiliation of her own silence. “No,” she breathed, eyes squeezed shut with pain. “I wouldn’t want to keep drinking something this watered down. Unless you’ve got something better, I…” It became harder to speak, the little cunt’s foot continuously scraping at her. Cersei adjusted herself in her seat, giving her some more freedom to speak with. “.. won’t be drinking anything more.”

“Oh, I may have something more suitable, Arbor Gold from the days of King Robert” Margaery answered. To those around them, it may have sounded to be about the wine, but Cersei knew better, as a moment later her cunt was infiltrated by the cunt’s toe. “Please give her more!”

As fury rose, Cersei realised the two couldn’t continue speaking. Instead, the whole thing escalated to the point where no sound should have come from their mouths any longer. 

Cersei’s foot found the little girl’s entrance too, and furiously she inserted her foot. She couldn’t feel precisely the amount of toes she was using, but there were enough to feel what Cersei had always known to be true. She was not intact. It would have made her smirk with satisfaction, had it not been for the fact that her cunt was being infiltrated with the little Queen’s dirty foot. 

Cersei could feel the other’s wetness dripping down onto her toes, but also that she was simultaneously producing wetness of her own. Despite the pain that scraped against her clit, meant to bring her nothing but agony, Cersei could feel heat coursing through her to an annoying extent. She didn’t know whether she wanted to wince or moan, but what she did know was that this could not go on. After all, Tommen was looking at her with a look of confusion in his eyes, and the longer this would go on for, and the longer the both of them would remain quiet, the more interested in their endeavours he would grow. Cersei wanted to avoid it at all cost, because how was either one of them going to explain that they had each other’s foot buried into their royal cunts? 

However, Cersei didn’t feel much for being the first to break away, knowing that it would show weakness. So, instead, she pushed her foot a little more into the bitch’s tainted cunt. She wiggled it around in there, while throwing her a knowing look. I know what you did. I know it’s true. Finally, for a fact, you whore. 

Margaery’s eyes finally threw a look back at her, but to Cersei’s utmost annoyance, there was no shame in her expression. It was almost as though her eyes spoke back to her instead. What are you going to do about it, Your Grace? Tell them how you found out? 

Instead of trying to claw Cersei out with her toe nail, she moved on to a different approach. The skin of her big toe moved precisely around her clit, circular motions proving that Margaery was precisely the whore that Cersei had already known she was. It was clear, though, that she wasn’t doing this to in any way being pleasure to Cersei, but to humiliate her by accidentally enjoying it too much. She understood that perfectly, as she too felt overwhelmed by a need to inflict that upon the girl she loathed more than anything. To suffer humiliation, she thought, might just be the way to punch the little Queen off her high horse. 

Cersei detested everything about the way the girl looked. The smug look was always by far the worst, but Cersei had a lot more to say about her overall appearance. The way she wore her dress of silver and green, carrying it around like it was anything to be proud of, appalled her, but of course those full, fattened cheeks disgusted her just as much. On top of that, the little Queen had little tits that could never compare to those of a real woman. Her body was nothing that could ever be considered beautiful, and the sooner the little Queen would realise that, the sooner Cersei might be left alone by the below average looking slut. 

She matched what was being done to her cunt, her big toe too rubbing against the girl’s used clit. She watched as the little Queen sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, then squeezed her eyes shut as if to find a way to deal with what was going on. Unfortunately for Cersei, she couldn’t revel in her victory, as a moment later it was taken from her by the circling around her own sensitive flesh. She could feel the fluttering sensation coursing inside of her stomach, raising her heart rate and making her feel almost drunk on the sensation. It had been a while since it had been paid attention to, which was perhaps what made this even worse. 

Oh how undesirable and ugly you have become. She could practically hear the girl say it, making Cersei so furious that she, through gritted teeth, expressed her fury by applying more pressure against the tainted, impure cunt until she could feel the flesh beginning to pulsate. Cersei’s breath hitched from what was being done to her, which made her pick up her glass of wine as if to distract from it. 

When her teeth clattered against the glass, she realised it was about the poorest decision she could have made, but she supposed it was too late to take it back. Tommen’s eyes were already on her, and Margaery already looked at her like Cersei had lost.

“Are you feeling poorly?” Tommen asked, eyebrows raised with confusion. “Is there anything you need?” 

No, I will not lose it. Not at all. 

Tommen’s question had Cersei shaking her head, take another sip, after which she, underneath the table, grabbed a hold of Margaery’s foot. She dug her nails into the skin as she tore it away from her cunt, putting an end to the public suffering to continue it in private. “I am fine, dear,” she said. Her breathing was far from steady, but it would have to do. “Though there is something I would like to discuss with… the little Queen in private.” 

Now that their cunts weren’t being pleasured anymore, and it has become a little easier to speak, Margaery took it upon herself to smile. Though her eyes were hazy — and Cersei could have sworn she wanted more of it, that’s the type of slut she apparently was — she seemed confident, and it was clear as day that she knew exactly what Cersei wanted from her. She wanted it to continue. She wanted it to end. 

“I suppose that is more than fair. May we have a moment?” As always, her voice sounded giving rather than demanding, which was exactly why Cersei had such trouble keeping her expression as it was. “After dinner, or course. It would be insanity to break up a perfectly good dinner for the sake of a full conversation, wouldn’t it?” 

Cersei felt her heart rate speeding up again. This time, however, it wasn’t arousal that caused it, but a severe wave of anger that had Cersei almost throwing her utensils towards the little bitch before her. However, while she fantasised about doing exactly that, and possibly slamming her knife right through Margaery’s cunning eyes, she again attacked her cunt with her foot. Knowing where the cunt was located this time, she pushed her toes inside of the wet, soft and slobbering skin of her cunt, forcing it open by continuing to ram her foot into her. 

Margaery responded to it by involuntarily producing more wetness and, much to Cersei’s disadvantage, attacking Cersei’s clit again. This time, the little bitch knew exactly what she was doing, making sure to apply as much pressure she knew Cersei needed. It made Cersei wonder how impure she behaved in bed at night, pleasuring herself to the thought of whoring herself out to whoever would have her. Oh, I will have her head. I will make her suffer. 

As normally she would have needed to curl something inside of her sensitive spot — she knew how women were used and sexually tortured, after all — she now lacked the length to make it happen. That was why, after a few minutes of prodding against her cunt, drenched in the little bitch’s wetness, she had no choice but to move on to the girl’s clit. She could not allow the girl to have an advantage over her, which she was already starting to have as a wave of intense arousal overwhelmed her very core. 

The need to moan out and allow her eyes to slip shut befell her, but of course that wasn’t something that could happen. In the stead of it, she continued to eat in silence, while she tried her very best to listen to the obnoxious Tyrell chatter around her as if to distract herself from what was going on underneath her dress.

It was Margaery who broke the silence first, her eyes firmly shut as a small noise escaped her lips. Her tongue was pressed against the fork in her mouth, after which she clenched it between her teeth. Cersei could feel the little dunt throbbing against her toe, promoting her to apply more pressure and make the pending orgasm all the harder to subdue. The fact that Margaery was close to breaking against Cersei’s touch excited her to such an irrational extent in that very moment, that the fluttering sensation inside of her stomach no longer managed to stay right there. More pressure against her clit had her dripping, the chair underneath her undoubtedly wet from the fluid that had already began drenching her clothing. The sexual pleasure that her own excitement had caused, began to make it feel like she was losing instead.

She could feel herself coming, teeth digging into her bottom lip as if to keep the worst of her noises at bay. Still, though, she didn’t want to, and tried her very best to keep it in. Judging by the look on the girl’s face, Cersei could tell that she was feeling the same. Perhaps that was exactly why Cersei could feel a hand around her ankle at the exact time Cersei grabbed a hold of Margaery’s. Their grips were firm and forceful, after which they both stopped their feet from working their way around one another’s cunts. It was a good thing, Cersei thought, that there was no way Margaery would allow her little Tyrell friends to see something like this, or Cersei would have suffered a similar humiliation. It almost would have been too much to bear. 

“I think it’s for the best to leave. Her Grace…” spoken, though with difficulty in her breathing, with venom and cynicism in her voice, “…and I should be left to our discussion. I assume everyone has eaten enough?” 

None of her pathetic minions were brave enough to say anything about it. Not because they were afraid of Margaery — the deceiving little cunt — but because they wouldn’t dream of being in Cersei’s way at any point. At least, that was what she thought, and what she would settle for. The anxiety that anyone might have known what was going on underneath the table didn’t even cross her mind. 

As everyone agreed and began to leave, Tommen threw her a questioning look, filling Cersei with comfort as she now had his little wife’s ankle in her grip. It caused her to squeeze the little bitch even tighter, as if to keep her from uttering as much as a word to her beloved son. He is not yours, and none of what you think you’ve got now ever will be yours. I will show you. 

“Be on your way out, Tommen. This conversation is not for children. Take your kittens and leave us be.”

“If it’s important, shouldn’t I—” the young king tried, but that filled Cersei with even more annoyance, causing her to interrupt him and leave the rest of his sentence unsaid. 

“Didn’t you hear me?” Cersei snapped. “Do you want me to send for your whip boy?. Leave us be, I said. Take the kittens and be on your way.”

Much to Cersei’s annoyance, she saw Margaery throw the young boy a small, encouraging smile. It was that nod of her head that made Tommen finally nod back, agreeing to the command that Cersei had made. It made her so furious that her nails clamped into the skin of Margaery’s ankle. The bitch did exactly the same thing back to her as if to keep herself from wincing, but Cersei knew better. She was inflicting pain on the other bitch, like only Cersei could. 

Tommen, with a sigh, finally did as he was told. He gathered his kittens and shooed them out along with himself, leaving the both of them alone in just each other’s company. When the coast seemed entirely cleared, Cersei pulled her leg from Margaery’s grip and pushed it back between the cunt’s legs. She wanted to finish her, giving her the one thing she claimed she had never had, from the person she probably wanted to receive it from the least. “You’ve been touched. You’re not a maiden, I can feel it,” Cersei sneered. “You can no longer deny that you are the whore I always knew you were.”

Margaery said nothing, instead responding by putting her foot back against Cersei’s cunt again. “I don’t know if you are in any position to talk,” she groaned, “considering you seem to be in no better position.”

Like this, now that everyone had left them entirely alone, they had the space to let their noises be heard. At the same time, it meant that neither one of them had any reservations left anymore. As previously, they were trying to be discreet as they could manage, there was nothing left of that anymore now. Margaery took the initiative to apply more pressure, basically slamming her foot back against Cersei’s clit. It had her wincing and wanting to stagger back, but she would not waver. Instead, she did the same to Margaery, who was beginning to feel a whole lot more than a desire for the old Queen to be in pain. It helped not to have to keep up any pretences because, like this, her hatred for this woman could come out in whatever way she liked.

Cersei opened her mouth to say something, but instead of a retort, a groan escaped her lips. That caused Margaery to smirk, the small victory clear as day on her mind. The old Queen was going to know what it was like to be belittled, and soon enough this was not the only defeat she would suffer. Margaery may not ever have been vocal about her wishes, and her extreme hatred of the old Queen, but it was clear to her that even Cersei knew how much she despised her. 

However, Cersei fought back with her own foot. She kicked her in the cunt at first, causing her breath to hitch, but then she felt the bitch’s toes against her clit again. She saw the old woman’s gritted teeth, eyes filled with rage, and then she did her best to achieve what could not have been achieved in public. 

“You…” Cersei moaned, her eyes slipping shut. “Stupid little cunt.”

Margaery wanted to tell the old hag that she shouldn’t speak, her words coming out rather embarrassingly, but instead she felt something settling inside of her stomach, fluttering so severely that she could feel it shooting down to her sensitive cunt. She wanted to get away from it, not at all wanting to reach a climax at the hands — or feet — of the bitter old Queen, but backing off was the last thing she needed to do. She would not show weakness, as that seemed to be exactly what Cersei wanted her to feel. 

For precisely that reason, the two continued. They grabbed the side of the table to apply more pressure than could have been done in public, and tried their best not to give into the maddening sensation. Margaery could feel her heart pounding annoyingly, making her more determined to get the old woman there faster, but it was starting to get a whole lot harder to keep it all inside of her. She could feel it swirling around inside of her rather aggressively and, with one last breath and her cunt pulsating upon the pleasure, she felt her fist clenching around the table cloth. It took no longer for another second for her body to start trembling with pleasure, until it washed over her like a wet wave of fluid that dripped directly from her cunt. She could do nothing besides moaning, her nipples hardening underneath her green dress as her mind detested the sensation. Her only consolation happened right after, throbbing against her toes and dripping onto her skin. 

Cersei moaned, her aggression causing her to make a louder noise than Margaery had done. It was almost as though, when her own noises died down, that the old cunt was still ensuring her presence was heard. 

“Are you trying to wake the whole castle?” Margaery asked, breathy and shaky. At the same time, she kicked the sensitive cunt, making sure to cause enough pain for Cersei to choke on her breath. “Must have been a while for someone to touch any part of you.” 

Cersei simply glared at her for a second, throwing her venom through her eyes. She waited to clear her throat and to wrack her brain to come up with a pointed retort. It wasn’t that the old Queen didn’t have any retorts, but her anger was too prominent. It took her some time, apparently, to make sense of the mess of insults that wandered around in her mind. “A touched whore like you shouldn’t speak, especially when so eagerly slipping over the edge after such a simple touch,” she finally said. “Or did you think I wouldn’t have noticed your maidenhead already torn into?” 

The observation caused Margaery to swallow, unwilling to think about the time Cersei was referring to. To suppress it, she kicked the bitch in the cunt once more, before she finally got up from her seat. “It’s normal, or did you forget that? It must have been a long while ago, so don’t worry about having forgotten what it is like not to have a loose piece of used flesh between your legs.”

Cersei threw her a scornful glance, but then snorted. “Used. It seems you know all about used.”

Margaery tried not to be affected by that word at all and smiled instead. It was about as fake as it usually was, making it easier to forget how her cunt was dripping and her entire body was filled with anger and disdain. Not that that ever managed to completely leave her system, as it consumed her in an entirely different way, as now she was finally in a position to do something with it. She didn’t get those opportunities often, but now that it could, her hatred came out physically. 

“Not anything about used up, however,” Margaery said. She approached Cersei, who was now standing up as well. In her red and gold, she looked even more unworthy than she already was. “That seems to be more your thing to tell me about.”

Margaery could see how the insults settled inside of Cersei. They weren’t bad, but Cersei had suffered enough of her hatred already to compose herself. Perhaps that was exactly the reason she now opted to close the distance between the two. Her expression was vile and aggressive, telling Margaery that she wanted nothing more than to stomp her into the ground, which was then exactly what the old woman went for. 

Margaery hadn’t expected the sudden attack, but suddenly she could feel herself being grabbed by the shoulders. The Myrish lace around them was squeezed in a fist, as the woman’s strength rapidly yanked it down. Margaery had no idea why nakedness was something that Cersei wanted to achieve, but despite the vulnerability that it showed, Margaery couldn’t say the exposure felt as dreadful as she had expected. She knew how she looked, and she knew there was no reason to feel shame to be compared to the old Queen before her. 

That’s why Margaery copied the attack, grabbed the Queen by her old shoulders and yanked the dress down to expose Cersei’s tits all the same. 

“Did you want to compare your tits to a real woman’s?” Margaery asked innocently and sweetly. “Must be hard to only know what it’s like to have the tits of a fat cow hanging down your chest.” 

Her eyes were on Cersei’s sagging tits, which were much bigger than her own, but looked much older than Margaery’s did. Margaery noted how full they were, how large her areolas around her erect nipple. Everything about them was larger than her own tits, but Margarey could say something about the shape of her own. For one, they weren’t sagging, but she could even see that back in the day, her own would still have looked better. Smaller, but perfectly shaped, and perfectly in proportion, would in her opinion always be better than a tit that was too large in every way. Was it not for the grip Cersei suddenly had on her nipple, Margaery would have laughed at them, but instead she winced. Her body was tormented and tortured by her enemy’s grip. 

“You are nothing to compare to,” Cersei grunted, as she twisted her tit between her fingers. “You have never been anything to compare to, and you never will.”

Margaery grunted with pain, not yet having expected the attack, but fought back the very second her brain had caught up with what was going on and where all of this would lead to. “Then why is that…” she gasped, “exactly what this looks like you’re doing.” Instead of waiting for a response, Margaery grabbed a firm hold of the Queen’s saggy tits and twisted them in her grip. “Why else would you want me naked? Why else are…” a nail, digging straight into her nipple, shut her up for a moment, “…you getting so angry?” However, she didn’t want to let the pain keep her from finishing her train of thought. The old Queen could torment her as much as she wanted, but Margaery would never stop trying to remind the bitch just how old and washed up she is. “Is it the way I look that is… Driving you so insane?”  

Margaery could see that Cersei wanted to say that she wasn’t angry, or anything else she clearly was, but instead she couldn’t stop herself from making sure Margaery was in even more pain than she had already inflicted. It proved Margaery’s point perfectly, but of course this left her in no position to celebrate it. It hurt, and Margaery had trouble keeping most of her pained groans to herself. It seared through her, making her feel unable to do anything, or even find a proper way to fight back, but where Cersei was set on inflicting pain — probably because she couldn’t fight Margaery any other way, or so it seemed — Margaery wanted the old Queen to feel as worthless as Margaery knew she was. 

She removed one of her hands from Cersei’s tits and moved it to one of Cersei’s wrists. She squeezed hard, so hard that Cersei’s fingers eventually cramped up and lost their grip on Margaery’s nipple and moved that hand to Cersei’s own sagging tit. When she let go of Cersei’s wrist, she touched her own sore tit, almost as if to compare the two. Of course, she didn’t do this for her own sake, but the old bitch would hate to find out just how firm Margaery felt in comparison to the bitter old Queen’s. Margaery didn’t even have to claim she was more beautiful than her, because Cersei would easily come to that conclusion herself. 

“Do you feel that?” Margaery said, but instead of getting the chance to follow up her question, she had to suffer the consequences of the humiliation she had inflicted upon the old woman.

“You naive little bitch,” Cersei grunted. Rage was visible on the older Queen’s face, showing thick lines in her expression. Margaery knew that some would still call this beautiful in some sort of way, but to her it was more than clear that genuine beauty was well in the past. “You think I’m going to just let you talk to me like that?” 

She made it clear a second later that she truly wasn’t going to let Margaery talk to her like that, because instead of just Margaery’s nipple, it was now her whole tit in the bitch’s grip. She squeezed hard and then began tugging so hard that Margaery had no choice but to let out a noise. What the old Queen lacked in beauty, Margaery thought, she made up for in blatant, jealous aggression. 

Margaery had no choice but to fight back, though instead of squeezing the bitch’s tit, Margaery balled her hands to fists and decided to go straight for a punch. It had the sack flatten a little, and the pain it caused had the Queen stumbling backwards a little, though not while letting go of Margaery’s tits in the slightest. In fact, her claws only tightened themselves into Margaery’s flesh more painfully, which in turn prompted her to continue her punching with even more force.

The two soon found themselves stuck with pain, moaning and groaning in a way that no orgasm could have caused them. It hurt like crazy, making them feel so weak in the knees that it was hard for them to remain standing. 

Tears filled Margaery’s eyes, the pain all consuming. Unfortunately, the pain didn’t bring as much satisfaction to her as the humiliation had done. Pain was just pain, but what Margaery truly wanted was for the pathetic Queen to know that her reign, whether it be in the literal sense or not, was over. She wanted her to know that no matter the beauty she had once possessed, there was nothing left of it in comparison to her. She needed her to see that new would always be better than old, no matter how badly Cersei might want to cling to the idea that she was the best, most beautiful Queen to have ever been.

She had no idea how it happened at all, but as though it was a switch flipping in her mind, she began letting herself sink through her knees. It put terrible strain on her tits at first, but then, as she attacked the bitch’s tits with her claws again, Cersei had no choice but to move down with her. She did so with a groan, which she grunted out through gritted teeth, until the both of them found themselves on their asses on the floor.

With her feet — still drenched in the fluid of Cersei’s arousal — Margaery was able to push herself back a little. She yelped against the strain of Cersei’s grip on her tit, but then yanked so hard that the old Queen was forced to let go. Then, in the brief second she had, she shot herself forward. And slotted them both together. It had the bitch trying to push herself back again, frankly disturbed at the way their cunts were about to touch, but Margaery’s mind was so set on humiliation that she hardly even cared about it. “What is it, Your Grace?” she taunted. “Afraid of what it would feel like to know that your cunt is as loose and useless as the rest of you is?” 

Cersei seemed to think about what to do in response to such a taunt, but Margaery knew better than to assume it was merely thinking she was doing. She was furious at what Margaery implied, and for that reason, at least Margaery thought, hesitance left her mind and, instead, she began to tug at the gold and red dress that still protected her bottom half. “You will see that you have no idea what you are talking about,” she hissed. “Stupid, naive little…”

Cersei shut up as Margaery shot forward again. She too had gathered up her green dress and wrapped it around her waist. Her hairy cunt, adorned with thick, dark hair, was against Cersei’s, slippery wet from what she had already suffered through. It surprised Margaery that she knew how to do this, but she now knew there was probably nothing she wouldn’t do to put the old Queen in her place. “An old cunt can’t do much. Can’t bring pleasure, and can’t lead or represent a kingdom.” She brought her hands to Cersei’s mound, where she grabbed a hold of the Queen’s yellow public hair. The colour of her hair was much lighter than her own, but Margaery would never mistake that for a sign of superiority. Blonde, yellow, gold and red said absolutely nothing about anything. If Margaery really had to put a name to it, she would say that it made the Queen’s cunt like one of a pale, lifeless corpse. “Can only feel pain until she makes place for something new. Until she is sane and steps down.”

She tugged at the hair, making the old Queen wince through the sensation. For a moment, Margaery thought that Cerseiwas about to do the same, but instead she moved her hands between them and spread Margaery’s labia apart before she did the same to her own. It ticked Margaery for a second, soft gentle pleasure settling within her abdomen, making her nipples hard and tender, but then she was met by a similar pain she was inflicting on Cersei. The old Queen’s hand was in her own public hair, tugging more aggressively than Margaery had done to her just yet. “What do you think I will do? Make place for a used Tyrell whore? I will show you that you have no idea what…” 

Cersei was forced to stop talking, as her words would have been cut short by a moan if she hadn’t. After all, Margaery had began moving her hips into the bitch against her, showing her that her pussy was made of a whole lot more than Cersei’s was. “Say what you want, but in the end your cunt is nothing but a loose piece of flesh that you ought to be ashamed of.”

Of course Margaery felt certain of her claim, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel any difficulty upon the way Cersei’s hips suddenly began moving back against her cunt. It left her gasping in the same way Cersei now was, filling her with a much unwelcomed pleasure. At the same time, the way that Cersei’s hand was tugging her mound didn’t make the whole ordeal any better, the pain and pleasure causing a confusing mess of sensations inside of her. It had her wailing and moaning, her eyes slipping shut and open, all while she was forced to feel what the old cunt had her feel. 

At least she didn’t seem to be the only one in this predicament, because although the old cunt seemed to be filled with as much rage as Margaery was filled with hatred, her cunt was throbbing against hers. She too was letting out moans of pleasure, paired with pained groans that Margaery knew she had caused her to let out. It prompted her to give her moan, to thrust her cunt into Cersei until their clits seemed to be aligned with one another, pleasuring each other for a reason neither one of them was capable of comprehending. Although Margaery couldn’t tell herself why, it seemed important for Cersei to find out that her cunt was as useless as the rest of her was. Old could never be young. Ugly could never be beautiful. 

“See how it feels?” Margaery taunted, though her voice was decorated by a moan. “Better than anything? It’s because I am better than…”

Without uttering a verbal response — the bitch Queen was probably stuck in another one of the never ending inner monologues Margaery sometimes caught her going through — the old Queen let herself fall backwards. Holding up her weight on the arm that wasn’t occupied with Margaery’s pubes, she began to heavily grind herself into Margaery. Her breathing was heavy and, to her amusement — for as far as she was capable of amusement — she watched as the bitch’s sagging tits bounced up and down with her movements.

It prompted Margaery to do the same, even if only to prove that her body was more delicate and more beautiful and therefore incapable of moving like Cersei’s was doing. 

However, the amusement was short lasted, as this angle was clearly working against Margaery on all other fronts. Cersei’s tits might be jigging in that way only the bodies of old women could manage, but the way the Queen’s cunt moved back against her in this way was almost too much for Margaery to handle. 

Her insides were swirling, her cunt throbbing. The moans she was letting out certainly weren’t anything she had prepared herself for. Upon starting this, what she had wanted to achieve was go humiliate the dumb old Queen, but now the sensation she was left with caused for confusion. Why were her own moans just as loud as Cersei’s were, and why was this happening in the first place? 

Either way, the sensation caused her frustration. After all, she could already feel herself getting lost to it, just like she had done with the Queen’s foot underneath the table, but she couldn’t have that happen. Instead, she moved along with her, cunts rubbing together and fluid already starting to seep out. It made it worse at first, until it also made it better as Cersei’s moaning grew louder all the same.

“Naive…” Cersei grunted, and Margaery could feel her wetness running against her own, “little cunt…”

It became hard to hold herself together after that. The only thing she could really think of was to grab a tighter hold of Cersei’s public hair as if the infliction of pain was going to prevent her from coming, but it did little to ease the pleasure.

No matter how badly she didn’t want to feel it, a wave of unwanted pleasure overcame her again. It had her pursing her lips and, crazily enough, upon the pleasure of Cersei’s grip around her pubes, pulling and yanking until there was no way Cersei didn’t yank out an amount of Margaery’s pubes, she caught herself slipping over the edge with a sputtering, throbbing pleasure. It had her moaning, her tits so tender that she felt a strange desire to coax them in a layer of her own — not Cersei’s — wetness. 

It was only when her orgasm began subsiding that she noticed how loudly Cersei was moaning, and how rapidly her clit was throbbing against her own. Margaery noticed the woman’s hardened nipples, and how she was now sputtering pathetically as Margaery had given her possibly a better orgasm than she had had all her life. Margaery, frustratingly enough, could not deny to herself that this was the most mind-boggling thing she had felt since entering womanhood.

It pissed her off more than she could bear, causing her to tug just as hard as Cersei had done. Like that, she could feel some of the fragile strands coming loose, until, after a powerful yank, they sprang free from Cersei’s cunt. 

If Cersei hadn’t been tugging at Margaery’s pubic hair already, then she was doing it now. Moans turned to grunts, and soon Margaery was subjected to the Queen’s claws as she yanked strand after strand from Margaery’s cunt. She wailed, the aftermath of her orgasm short lasted as the old bitch Queen began replacing pleasure with pain. 

The pain didn’t limit itself to just their mounds, however, as Margaery was soon subjected to the feeling of pleasure turning into pain against her cunt. She continued to rub herself, lips spread and clits pressed together, against the other Queen. She felt over stimulated in an instant, though an uncomfortable wave of arousal crashed down upon her again. Instead of moaning like she enjoyed this in any way at all — she didn’t — she now felt herself screaming. The pleasure was uncomfortable, stinging through her cunt like it was being stabbed with a needle. Cersei seemed to be feeling the same, as she let Margaery hear her discomfort in a similar way. 

The room was suddenly filled with an uncomfortable symphony of agony, leaving every inch of their bodies uncomfortable. Yet, they continued to move and tug, unwilling to back down and show defeat. When pleasure became too much and too unwelcome, crashing down upon them one after the other, their pussies essentially beginning to leak themselves dry, their fight turned to violence again, as though the pain of having suffered orgasm after orgasm led them to something more primal, something more urgent. 

Holding herself up on just one arm and just one leg, Margaery attacked the older Queen with her foot. As she continued to trib against the cunt, leaving her squirming and uncomfortable, she finally kicked it against the Queen’s saggy tit. Cersei’s nipple was then trapped between Margaery’s toes, prompting her to pull at it in an attempt to make the Queen lose her balance. 

Instead of that, though, the old bitch maintained her strength and instead began doing exactly the same thing to Margaery. It caused the both of them to let go of each other’s cunts, which had been plucked and were left stinging like insanity in the aftermath of it, and put all of their strengths into the violation of one another’s tits. The fight for orgasms, of course, did not stop, but on top of that it felt important to Margaery to make the old bitch Queen aware of just how ugly she had grown overtime. Like that, it almost felt like the amount of orgasms Margaery was forced to suffer through didn’t matter so much. As long as the message was still clear, and she would still manage to make the bitch feel as bad about herself as she could, nothing else would still matter. Margaery would not be humiliated by an old bag of nothing. 

The fight grew into somewhat of an aggressive foot massage, in which the motive was to achieve pain more so than anything else. Their cunts, and the sticky mess between it, was telling them something different, as pain blended in with pleasure to leave the both of them gasping as they continued to thrust against one another. Margaery had, on multiple occasions, thought that either she or the old bitch in front of her might lose her balance, but both seemed to be equally determined to win. Margaery had no idea how long the whole thing might last if something didn’t change soon, as she certainly hadn’t expected the old bitch to have any stamina to match hers. Perhaps for the ugly queen, it wasn’t about stamina as much as it was about hatred. 

Still, Margaery — with her cunt throbbing maddeningly — wanted this to come to an end. She had endured more than enough unwanted orgasms, and the longer this would go on, the more reason Cersei would have to hold what they were doing against her. Her heart pounding upon the thought that when Cersei’s foot had entered her, she had seen — felt — something that Margaery desperately wanted to forget. She didn’t want the ugly queen to come to any sort of assumption about what had happened, and neither did she want the bitch to find a way to somehow get her down for it. My absence is not going to give you any of your youth back. She could already hear herself scream it, were it ever to come to something like that. 

The next orgasm she suffered through was one induced by fear. It left her cunt stinging, her eyes filled with painful tears as she tilted her head back to look up at the ceiling. Her vision was blurry, the wave of arousal shooting through her as though she had received an arrow straight to the clit. The only consolation was that, as far as Margaery could tell, that Cersei had suffered just as many unwanted orgasms as she had, and that she was therefore suffering an equal amount. On top of that, the way that Margaery kept continuing to stomp her foot down against the bitch’s old tit was not helping her either, as Margaery at least knew that she was using more strength on the queen’s tit than the queen was on hers. 

Still, this was not enough, because after a few minutes of thrusting against one another, Margaery could clearly feel that there was a great chance they would have to suffer through yet another one. Her cunt was already so slippery that every movement gave her the feeling she might lose her balance, which in itself was already enough of a reason for her to bring this to an end. She could not have the old queen watch her falling to the ground, as, clearly, Margaery wanted to do anything to prevent herself from coming out a loser. 

Perhaps it was that fear that had her let go of Cersei’s tit altogether. That didn’t mean she put it down on the floor, however, as she was determined enough for this to come to an end that she would go as far as she could possibly think of. Not that this was a conscious decision she had made, as it was her exhausted, painful body that made all the decisions for her instead. 

She moved her foot against the queen’s mouth and began pushing. The bitch sputtered a bit, attempting to move away from the touch. Margaery simply responded to that by moving her toes in the direction of Cersei’s nose and practically pushing them in. It had the Queen gasping against the skin of her foot, her cunt throbbing all the more violently. It made the ugly bitch so furious that, instead of continuing to move away, she kicked her leg out in the direction of Margaery’s face to do exactly the same thing. 

As her mouth was filled with the queen’s appalling foot, Margaery caught herself gasping. The obstruction had her sink her teeth into the foot she was currently being smothered with. Cersei responded by doing exactly the same thing, and soon enough the noises that repeatedly filled the room changed from moans of pure arousal, to groans of fury induced desperation. Margaery could feel how her head was beginning to pound from the lack of oxygen, and how much harder it was now to keep her breathing steady. Her breathing only managed to come out through her nose, but there wasn’t enough space to properly suck anything in through her lungs. The other queen seemed to be going through exactly the same thing, as the biting against her own skin became a whole lot less firm. If anything, Margaery could feel nothing but tortured gasps, which were possibly the same ones she was sputtering out herself. 

At the same time, as though they were stuck in this routine, neither one of them seemed to be able to stop their hips from thrusting into one another, which caused for those uncomfortable surges of pleasure to continue filling up their bodies. In this instance, it made breathing all the more difficult, as gasping through that kind of pleasure was something they both needed to do anyway. Margaery let out another noise when she felt it swirling around in her stomach again, her heart pounding as hard as her cunt was throbbing. Her vision began to blur, as panic washed over her entirely. She tried to move away, but instead she remained exactly where she was as she could feel her cunt being thrusted into yet another orgasm. 

It was when it happened, exploding from within, that Margaery was no longer aware of anything going on around her. The last thing she was able to notice was Cersei, who was no longer moving, and possibly no longer breathing. 

She might have been able to celebrate this momentary victory, was it not for the darkness that took everything away a mere second later. 

The End

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