Game of Thrones: Malazza vs Daenerys – On Dragons and Mountains

So… twisted. She had given people the freedom to live their own lives, but slave and master alike, they had all hated her for it. It led to a string of compromises that left Daenerys feeling furious and at least a little sick. The people had seemed to side with Yunkai over her, and she had no idea how the den of slavery could be tolerated let alone celebrated. She had signed off on peace treaties that allowed Yunkai to freely trade their own slaves. She had locked up her remaining dragons when Drogon had showed them to be a danger before flying away. She had married Hizdahr Zo Loraq to help keep the peace. All the while, she had hated all of it. The world around her was sour and rotten, and she was forced to stomach it for the sake of her kingdom. Leadership was proving more of a burden than she had expected, and there was a part of her that wanted to leave them behind. Still, she remained steadfast, her stubbornness about herself and other people keeping her dedicating to showing them the way to basic human decency.

Even after all that, Daenerys was still distrusted and hated by her new people, and the Sons of the Harpy were still ambushing her men at every turn. She didn’t want to resort to slavery again and reinstitute the barbarism she’d freed them all from, but she needed something to restore their faith in her and their city. She decided to restore the fighting pits as a gesture of goodwill, expecting the former gladiators and pit fighters to return to her side.

She made her public appearance in front of the arena, the day after her bitterly banquet with the visitors from Yunkai. The memory of them flaunting their slaves and drinking her wine still lingered in her head. Still she delivered her practiced but heartfelt speech about peace and justice to the people from behind her eunuch guards. Just as she’d feared, however, there came masked figures moving through the crowd. The Sons of the Harpies launched their attack suddenly, lunging forth with knives and hidden blades to strike down several of the guards. The crowd started to flee as they left the feuding factions to battle, but the confusion and the chaos was favoring the rebels. As they closed in the gap on Daenerys, she braced herself for the worst… but something even worse than her attackers landed right in front of her.

With a bone-quaking roar, Drogon flattened a would-be assassin under a massive claw. The dragon whirled and bit a man in half before chucking its body into some others. “Drogon!” Daenerys blurted, pressing herself against his flank while keeping away from the more dangerous pieces of her loyal pet. He had been missing for around a year now, and she had started to accept that he was gone for good. Seeing him back was a shock, but a welcomed one.

Drogon hunched down in a growled invitation, all that Daenerys needed to grab onto his leg and climb up onto his back. A few more of the rebels charged the dragon in the moment of vulnerability, but Drogon had his mistress on his back. He had no further reason to hold back, and so he sprayed a stream of fire over her pursuers. His flames were wild and powerful enough that even Daenerys had the edges of her dress catch fire, hurrying to smack and douse the small tongues of flame. Even with her efforts and resistance to the heat, it ended up mostly singed off of her. The embers had caught on her hair as well, singing off a significant chunk of that before she was able to douse that as well.

“Go!” she called to her beast, the young but massive dragon taking off with a few quick flaps of his wings. Daenerys breathed a sigh of relief, about to rest against the dragon’s back. It seemed that the city of slaves was beyond saving, so it was more relief than worry to leave it behind. The pressures of her obligations seemed to melt away, quite literally in the case of the Sons of Harpies that Drogon had incinerated. The fresh memory of watching them burn still made her smile. She was tired from all the stressful efforts and failed attempts full of good intentions. Let them live by ruining each other’s lives. She was back with her children. She was free.

Something subtle in one of her senses made her spin around. She saw the second figure behind her. She wore the mask of the Harpies, with the only indicator that it was a woman being that her clothes had been similarly burnt. Only some shreds of it remained, most of it flapping in the wind. Her tanned breasts and privates were exposed to the open air and Daenerys’ eyes, and she held a long knife in her bracelet-wrapped hand. It was clearly aimed at Daenerys.

Daenerys reacted with more outrage than fear. The assassin not only lashed out at the one woman in the entire kingdom doing the right thing, but she had the nerve to ride on HER dragon. The masked figure slid further up Drogon’s back and lashed out with her blade, but Daenerys had seen enough battle to be far from helpless. The slash lacked the grace or the power of a professional fighter, so even she was able to dodge away from it. She grabbed the collar of the assassin’s robes, giving her even less ability to move along the dragon’s spine. Daenerys’ hand caught the blade-wielding wrist, wrestling it away from her as she shook and shoved at the infuriating terrorist. There was a tiny sense of relief in the back of Daenerys’ head. For all her frustration and disgust she had built up against her conquered kingdom, she finally had an outlet to let it out.

The mysterious woman lashed out with her free hand, punching Daenerys in the chest in an effort to both hurt her or knock her off the exotic beast’s back. Daenerys locked her legs around his lower neck and performed an awkward tackle into the masked woman. Her back hit Drogon’s rough hide, knocking a few more charred bits of her dress away. The mask went with it, revealing the dark skin and hair of her recent rival.

“Malazza,” Daenerys called over the roar of the wind and beating wings around them. She had sent her off to be sentenced by her guards. She must have escaped when she was out of sight of the dragon-wielding queen, returning to the Harpies to continue her attack. While offense or shock would have stunned Daenerys in the past, this time she bared her teeth in an angry, almost eager snarl. She had been in this position before not so long ago (minus the flying dragon beneath her). “Here we are again,” she noted almost casually before releasing her grip on the robe punching Malazza across the mouth.

The vengeful beauty grunted from the blow, but she gouged her nails into a handful of flesh in Daenerys’s thigh. The dragon mistress howled and shoved back at her, Drogon seeming to pick up on the struggle on his back. He turned his head enough to give another quick burst of flame towards them, catching on their clothes once again. The women fought each other and the fire simultaneously, and between being burnt or torn by their opponent, their clothes were soon left drifting off into the vast emptiness of the sky.

“You deserve to die, you ruinous cunt!” Malazza shrieked at her, taking a wild stab at Daenerys’ breast with her knife. The white-haired woman leaned to one side, avoiding the swing while hanging onto her assailant. Malazza hadn’t been expecting the sudden grab, which sent the two of them spilling off of Drogon and falling towards the earth below.

Their fall was surprisingly and thankfully short. Drogon had been flying low over some mountains, and they found themselves landing on a broad flat cliff near one of their peaks. The naked women landed on the cool stone, recovering from the sudden drop just in time to watch the knife slide across the smooth ground and drop off the cliff into a useless void.

Malazza and Daenerys both turned their eyes back to each other. They were alone on the mountain. No guards, no armies, and no weapons beyond a few small stones or spindly trees.

“This has been a long time coming,” Malazza said as she stood up and started towards her conqueror. She ignored the dull prodding of the stones beneath her feet, focused entirely on her opponent.

“After all I did to save you people, you still come after me,” Daenerys scoffed, braced for the fight herself. Malazza gave her a glare and realized there was no rush this time. The dragon’s wing beats were growing more distant, and there were no guards or soldiers to save her this time.

Malazza gave her a look of disgust. “Save us? Was that what you call crucifying 163 great masters in Meereen? When you killed my father in your act of mass execution? And when the riots that came, did you save us when our mothers and sisters were raped in their homes and we starved in the streets? Whole families ruined by your army and your arrogance!?” Malazza was clearly furious, and even having never met each other before, it was clearly a very personal matter. “You care nothing for the people! You use them and act as if it was for their own good!”

Daenerys stared back at her, recalling the conquering of Meereen. She couldn’t exactly deny what she’d said, but she had to manage her forces. She couldn’t have stopped all of the violence in all of her kingdoms at once. “I’ll never be perfect,” Daenerys admitted without losing her angry stare. “But I’m better than the scum that used to run that den of rats! I set people free! I closed the fight pits!”

Malazza frowned at her hated conqueror. “Those fighting pits you closed? They were a part of our legacy. Men fought in the pits for honour and to honour the gods!” Malazza corrected sharply. “You execute and desecrate the bodies of their masters without trial, leaving them out as warnings until the streets reek of death. And when we fought back against you wiping out the people, you kidnapped children of the masters and threatened to kill them. You don’t know what you’re doing, you stupid barbarian.”

“I did it to set people free! To stop the rebels from killing more innocents! And I never harmed those children!” Daenerys pointed out, even though it had crossed her mind. “All these people understand is violence! And it looks like you’re no exception.”

“You killed children when my brother starved to death in your wake. And now you are destroying yourself,” Malazza said grimly as she tossed the spear aside. “You took over our cities and felt like you knew what was best. Whatever your excuses, you only make things worse for yourself and for the people.” Malazza gave an almost pitying frown at Daenerys. “You know you won’t until everyone is dead…” The ruined woman stepped forward as she steadily met Daenerys’ eyes. “You need to die. I’m sure you understand.”

“I did not come this far to die so easily to an orphaned whore!” Daenerys snarled back, unrelenting after her enemy’s passionate words. Nothing had changed. She was still here to kill her, and Daenerys was set on surviving.

The dark-skinned assailant tackled Daenerys around her middle, slamming her into the rough stone of the plateau. Daenerys gave a short grunt while Malazza had to note just how warm she felt compared to the cold mountain air. Daenerys delivered several hurried punches into Malazza’s ribs but the assassin grabbed her by the face and raked her nails across Daenerys’ fair features.

Daenerys screamed as the five points scratched across her eyes and flesh, pushing and flailing in instinctive panic. She managed to grab the flexing claw by her wrist and roll her weight into Malazza, ending up on top of the struggle as she shoved the Yunkish’s hand to the ground.

“You ungrateful cunts! You stupid little whores!” Daenerys ranted at Malazza as much as the ruinous kingdom she had just escaped. She pelted Malazza’s face with a barrage of slaps, making her recoil and wince as best she could while trapped beneath her attacker. Malazza pushed and struggled back against her, scratching at whatever she could with her free hand. She fought just as savagely as Daenerys, kicking and flailing wildly. She even leaned forward and delivered a quick bite to one of Daenerys’ dangling nipples when she could, even if it quickly slipped back out of her jaws in their struggles. The bites still drew blood as they scraped and pinched her raw tits. Daenerys was quick to put a stop to her violent resistance as she changed her position, opening up Malazza’s thighs and allowing her to deliver a crushing knee into pelvis.

“AOOOH!” Malazza gave a guttural howl as she doubled over and clutched her crotch. Daenerys quickly pressed her weight on top of her, pinning the nauseous assassin beneath her. One hand took Malazza’s throat, holding her down and starting to choke her. Daenerys balled up her other hand and started to hammer it onto Malazza’s naked chest, leaving the dark-skinned orbs to jiggle with each painful blow. Bruises were beginning to grow beneath Daenerys’ hateful blows

“This is what you wanted?!” Daenerys snarled savagely. “You don’t come after me and not expect a fight, you twisted little orphan!”

Malazza suffered through a few of the rib-crushing blows, forcing precious air out through her choking throat. She grit her teeth and felt along the ground until her hand found a sizeable stone. She palmed it and swung it into the side of Daenerys’ skull, crashing it against her temple and sending her crumbling to the ground. The conqueror was naturally stunned, cradling her head as she curled up on the ground. Blood started to trickle down her temple where the stone had scraped roughly across her skin. Malazza briefly considered the rock in her hand before tossing it aside, deciding it was too small to crush Daenerys’ head. Instead, she grabbed one of Daenerys’ bare thighs and forced her onto her back, stomping her heel into her former mistress’ cunt.

Daenerys let out a cry, half howl of pain and the other half an outraged roar. She thrashed to try to escape the punishing position before she settled on throwing her foot up between Malazza’s legs. Her kick landed with a satisfyingly meaty thud, Malazza letting out a choking noise and clutching her crotch once again. She fell to her knees and then quickly to her side. Both women were down, pathetically clutching their privates through their noisy suffering before they could try to drag themselves up.

It was half a minute before Malazza could fully shut out the pain in her crotch and properly get to her hands and knees. She caught her breath before lifting her head, but Daenerys had grabbed a fallen branch and swung it right into her vengeful attacker’s face. The wet wood shattered as Malazza fell back to the rough mountaintop, bruises and scratches already starting to form as Daenerys looked at her ruined weapon. It had left Malazza spitting out some bloody saliva on the ground, but the branch was nowhere long enough to swing around now. It barely made for more than a handful.

Deciding not to waste what was left of the tool, Daenerys dropped herself on top of Malazza’s waist facing her legs. She forced them apart and rammed the scrap of wood into Malazza’s crotch, dragging its ragged tip over the soft flesh. Malazza screamed as she reclaimed her wits and started frantically beating her fists against Daenerys’ back. When that didn’t stop her or her primitive weapon, Malazza reached past her attacker’s waist and grabbed her wrist. She pulled on the arm to send Daenerys off balance, stumbling forward enough for Malazza to stretch her legs upward and wrap them around her head.

Daenerys came crashing down, Malazza’s thick pubic hair scratching and tickling against her nose as the powerful thighs closed around her neck. Daenerys threw a few hard punches into her assailant’s legs, but her knuckles bounced right off. The muscles were too firmly tensed to do much damage like this. Daenerys quickly gave up on that approach and bit down on the softer flesh of her inner thigh, getting a quick shriek from Malazza. The assassin still drove several blows into the upper half of Daenerys’ face (the only part appearing above her scissor hold), hitting about her eyes and head. Daenerys gave some pained growls, but she simply opened her mouth to bite down again and again on any soft skin she could find. She ultimately settled on pinching one of the lips of Malazza’s pussy and twisting until she got her to release the scissor. As Malazza retreated, Daenerys still grabbed one of her ankles and lifted the leg enough to punch her squarely in the pussy.

Malazza grunted but still got to her knees, one hand stuck to her privates to show that the repeated attacks to her twat were taking their toll. “You barbarian whore,” Malazza hissed bitterly.

“Ungrateful slaver slut!” Daenerys growled back, tackling into Malazza with a primal fury. The two went tumbling across the plateau, Daenerys clawing at Malazza’s face and hair. The former slaver kicked around the crotch and belly of her hated conqueror while scratching rapidly over her breasts. The both of them kept pushing and rolling in an attempt to get on top of the other, their increasing trails of blood mingling in their wake. The mountain’s fog wrapped around them as if trying to hide their shame that they no longer cared about.

More importantly, the mists prevented seeing where it was they were rolling. They had lost track of their relative location on the stone platform, so neither of them realized where they were until they started to fall off of the mountain. Both of them gasped a split second too late, realizing that there was nothing beneath them but their rival’s flesh. They floated apart as their grips faltered, turning head over heels once in a full rotation as they screamed. Daenerys felt that this was the end. Her own blinding rage had led her to make a simple mistake and drop herself off of the top of a mountain. They both stared in horror into the thick mists as they fell to what they were sure was their demise. It was fortunate that they didn’t have far to fall before their bodies connected with a thick branch as a new means of supporting themselves.

What was less fortunate was how they landed. The branch was thick enough to hold both of their weight, at least for the time being. However, they had been flailing in an attempt to grab onto anything could save them. The final result was them both falling crotch-first onto the dense piece of wood. Both women looking horrified into the mists as the full force of their fall was concentrated against their pussies. The unforgiving bark was far from smooth, and its additional branches had left more jagged gashes along their beautiful yet contrasting skins.

Daenerys could only manage to sputter rather than speak, but she brought her hands to the wood to carefully slide her weight off of it. She didn’t have much of a better means to hold on with, but she at least forced her thighs to flex around the branch instead of letting it cram itself up between her labia. Malazza changed at a similarly ginger pace, not wanting to disturb the branch (or her vagina) too severely. Once again the mists prevented seeing much beyond their current location, but Daenerys realized that their position meant that Malazza was farther out than she was.

Assuming it would be easier to knock her off than let her attempt it the other way around, Daenerys shimmied closer to Malazza. She gave a sharp slap at Malazza’s chest, sending her off center to one side but still holding on. Malazza thrust out her palm into Daenerys’ belly taking a different approach by forcing her backward instead. It didn’t knock Daenerys off by any means, but it left her sliding back and her pussy scraping against the rough bark and stubby branches of their supporting limb. Daenerys let out a quick and furious howl as her snatch was scraped against the wood, wincing as her eyes watered. Malazza glanced down at the specks of red that her womanhood had left behind on the bark, more signs of her bleeding.

Malazza awkwardly crawled along the branch towards her opponent, advancing while focusing more intently on holding on. “Fall, you stupid tyrant,” she growled at her former owner. Daenerys hissed through her teeth to deal with the pain in her womanhood rather than reply, but when Malazza came back into her reach she lashed out with a wide rake of her nails over her face. Malazza let out a short howl as her cheek stung with four hot and fresh lines of red, but she had to grasp the branch rather than fight back. It was all she could to to fight against the momentum of the slash.

She grabbed Daenerys’ offending wrist and shoved to one side, but her own legs were too firmly braced against the wood. The mistress of dragons used her free hand to send several punches into Malazza’s ribs and breast before the assassin rotated her waist and elbowed Daenerys in the side of her mouth. The spray of red flew from her already bleeding mouth, the crimson raindrops vanishing into the mists below. The strike had stunned the pale-haired beauty long enough for Malazza to free up both hands and latch them onto Daenerys’ chest, crushing and clawing her breasts with all her furious might.

“You filthy, cowardly cunt!” Daenerys screamed out and tried to recoil, but Malazza’s grip held strong. It dragged the dark-skinned woman an inch or so along the rough bark, but she grit her teeth and held on with all she had. Daenerys threw a kick into one of her legs, replacing its balance with one of her hands resting on the branch. It rocked Malazza slightly, enough that Daenerys tried it again. The kicks left Malazza’s legs shifting apart, and she held onto Daenerys more desperately to stay balanced.

Malazza jerked Daenerys to one side by her two fleshy handfuls. “There’s no dragons to catch you now. No army of mindless monsters. I think it’s time you met the real world… one where tyrants fall.”

Malazza tried to shove her over the edge, but Daenerys grabbed the branch at the last moment and threw another kick higher on Malazza’s thigh. The Yunkish woman gasped and lost her center of balance, unfortunately timed with a cracking and shifting of the branch. Malazza went falling over one side of their life-saving limb, but she still had a grip on two major centers of Daenerys’ own center of balance.

“No, you stupid whore!” Daenerys blurted out just before they both toppled over the edge together. They screamed as they once again plummeted to their doom, and once again were proven wrong. The fog whipped past their faces, the cold air stinging their eyes until they saw a flash of something… brown. They had only needed to fall a few meters until they landed on another cliff, this one almost entirely covered in mud. Daenerys dragged herself back out of the mess, shaking her head and whipping the watery mess around her. She looked up to see a small waterfall on the far side that kept the mud freshly wet. Her body still ached, but the cold of the stuff was at least a little comforting. It had absorbed some of the fall, but certainly not as much as she had hoped. She had some concerning swelled and dark bruising just above her knee where she’d landed badly, and just moving her arm send several shocks through her ribs. Still, she was alive. She had survived the fall… and so had Malazza.

The rebel assassin pushed herself up, having the misfortune of landing face down in the slop as she spat it out onto the ground. She wiped some from her eyes to glare over as Daenerys, exposing her crooked and freshly broken nose that leaked blood into the mess. They managed some glaring and some spitting towards each other, but they could only really lay in the muck for several minutes. They had both gone through two heart-stopping falls, on top of their drawn out fight leaving them full of so much pain and fatigue that all they could do was moan and roll in a vain attempt to get more comfortable in their suffering.

“I was leaving,” Daenerys shouted echoing through the mountaintop. She was almost laughing in her unbelievable outrage. She wiped some of the mud from the back of her hair and flicking it to the ground. “I was going to stay away this time! I would let you all rot in your stupid circle of killing, and suffering, and enslaving each other. You had to chase me. You hated me more than you hated your own servitude.” She lurched up to her feet, giving one last instinctive wipe of her hand across her chest that smeared the mud like warpaint. “Well no turning back now, little Harpy.”

Malazza looked behind her at the continued emptiness of the fog. She doubted they would have the same luck in falling a third time. “I wouldn’t leave you alive if I could,” she decided, rising to meet her relentless enemy once again.

Both women’s movements were more sluggish than before, but the fury behind those movements remained every bit as passionate. Malazza coughed up some blood before she was able to charge and Daenerys found herself limping to keep herself standing. There was some intense pain in the dragon queen’s lower leg, a deeply-cracked bone hindering her movement. She threw a heavy-handed slap at Malazza when she was within her reach, and while it was a clumsy blow, the vengeful assassin was too dazed and weary to dodge it. She simply accepted the hit, letting the palm crack across her face and echo in the cold mountain air. She stumbled dizzily, but by absorbing the blow she was able to sneak in a swift punch to Daenerys’ jaw. Even the spontaneous swing was enough to drop the pale-haired woman to her hands and knees, her mouth hanging open as she flexed her jaw. She spat a glob of blood into the mud, her blurring eyes barely noticing the tooth left in the center of the filthy discharge.

It was strange, then, that Daenerys felt so alive. Everything hurt and her head was spinning, and she still wasn’t sure how many of her bones were broken, but there was an intense excitement building within her. Perhaps it was the adrenaline talking, but the throne was boring. She felt like she belonged here: dealing with foes with her bare hands rather than laws and orders and armies. She managed a weary, twisted grin as she tried to force herself back up, but Malazza kicked her in the face on her way up. Daenerys hit the mud with a choking gasp, but her assailant let out a cry of pain of her own. Daenerys focused her eyes enough to see that she was clutching her foot, falling into the mud beside her and cursing up a storm. She had twisted her ankle when she’d landed, but hadn’t fully noticed a broken toe until it had smashed into her enemy.

Daenerys tried to shut out the throbbing pain in her mouth (and everywhere else, really) and crawled over to Malazza while she was still blinded by the pain. She threw herself on top of her darker-skinned enemy and tore into her face with her chipped and jagged nails, clawing and slashing like a wild animal. Small but deep chunks of flesh were ripped from Malazza’s face, and it was only catching her thumbnail on her cheekbone that kept Daenerys from taking out her eye. It still left a deep gash along the socket, spilling blood in Malazza’s eye. With nowhere to recoil to while she was beneath her attacker, the would-be assassin threw a fierce and sudden punch that caught Daenerys right in the throat.

The dragon mistress let out a revolting noise as she struggled to breathe or swallow, falling off to her side while she tried to recover with her face halfway into the mud. With their positions evened out and both of them suffering from their mutual and relentless punishment, Mallaza took the higher of Daenarys’ legs by the thigh. She clawed carelessly at the fallen tyrant’s skin, forcing her weakened legs apart before she smashed her knee forward in an awkward but effective blow to her pussy. A scream peppered Malazza with with Daenarys’ blood and spit, interrupted periodically by her coughing brought on her by her still aching throat.

Malazza was left free to deliver more punishing blows to her enemy’s cunt, eventually connecting with a crack against the tenderized pelvis. Daenarys emitted a twisted cry, her voice so warped with pain and fury that come out as an inhuman howl choking on blood. She directed her pain into her exhausted arms shoving them into Malazza’s throat, digging her nails into the flesh of her neck and pushing on her windpipe.

It was Malazza’s turn to choke and gasp. She tried another knee to Danny’s crotch, but she repositioned herself so that the clumsy attack went back. Even though Daenarys dodged, she let out a wet sob. Whatever had broken down there, her crotch was throbbing with pain after its exposure to multiple branches, claws, stomps and more. She sputtered at Malazza as if she had used every insult she knew, resulting in a fruitless attempt to produce any more verbal hatred for her rival.

Malazza’s eyes started to flutter when she took advantage of Daenarys’ weakness. She adjusted the grip of her sweating hands, leaving the assassin an instant to lash out and bite into her index finger. Daenarys gave another wordless scream and retracted her hand. It left another bloody scrape along her finger, but she considered it better that than letting Malazza bite it off. She let the hand bleed in the cooling mud while her other hand hooked and punched into Malazza’s ribs, the Yunkai woman coughing out more blood from the weary but vicious blow.

“Die, you miserable cunt,” Daenarys rasped, but Malazza answered with a blow of her own to her conqueror’s face. Her knuckled crunched against her nose, spouting more blood that contained to stain her face.

“Eat shit, you idiot child,” Malazza snarled back through her own cracked and bloodied lips.

Both women threw themselves into their attacks, unable to muster the dexterity or the mental quickness to bother with blocking. Their bodies were too broken and weary to do much for retreating, even if their egos would allow such a consideration. The wounds that their bodies had suffered seemed insignifancy in the face of their wounded pride. Daenarys resented the thankless rebel to begin with, but after being left broken and beaten in the mud on some gods-forsaken mountain, she refused to let herself be the one to lose their contest as well.

Still, their relentless beatings took their toll. The deep and ugly bruising spread on Malazza’s chest and stomach until she froze to vomit over the mud and both fighters’ chests. Daenarys simply let herself collapse backward, her face a bruised and swollen mess that was sticky with blood, mud and oozing bruises. Looking up at the mists, she realized she couldn’t see out of one eyes. She couldn’t tell whether it was actually damaged or just swollen shut, not that it mattered just yet.

Malazza grabbed at Daenarys by her leg, the dazed royal barely registering it enough to twist her body. Just moving her legs and hips made her stomach churn from the agony, but she kicked one of her heels into Malazza’s battered breast. Her face twisted in pain, but she still lunged forward and dug her teeth into the paler woman’s vagina. No matter how numb she was, the piercing pain in her womanhood made Daenarys arch her back and give her own cry of anguish.

Malazza chewed on as much of Daenarys’ flesh as she could, tearing her pussy apart while the fair-haired woman tried to crush her skull between her thighs. The legs forced some choking coughs out of her, but a far more tempting target had presented itself. With Malazza between her thighs, the same opportunity was available to Daenarys. She dug her claws into the assassin’s thighs, forcing them apart to make space for her gnashing teeth to bury into her clitoris.

It was impossible for them to tell how long they went on mauling each other’s pussies, tasting her foe’s bloody womanhood in between their ghastly wails and gasps for air. They tried to shut out the pain by inflicting more on their opponent, but exhaustion and blood loss caught up to the most frenzied of warriors and the most vicious of women. Daenarys get a cough that was thick with drool and blood while Malazza wretched between her legs, feeling her dark-skinned assailant fall limp between her legs just a her was blackened by her own tunneling vision. At last, both had collapsed into the cold mess of the mud. Among the solitary mountain lost in the mists, their faces remained buried in the other’s crotch like a pair of lovers that were butchered in the act.

The End

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