Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1618886.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin
  Relationship:
      Petyr_Baelish/Alayne_Stone
  Character:
      Petyr_Baelish, Alayne_Stone
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-05-15 Words: 535
****** His hand in her hair ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Littlefinger has gotten what he always wanted. Alayne is well trained
     to pleasure him.
Notes
     I’ll not offend my feminist sensibilities by calling this “dub-con”.
     Let’s all be clear that this is rape.
Alayne stood on all fours on the bed. She had her head tilted towards her back
so her naked breasts where thrust forward. Petyr Baelish held her in that
position by her dark brown hair, so like his. It was twined around his arm,
which resting on her unlaced bodice. His hand gripped around her hair at her
neck. He sat between her arms and her legs. His other hand was under her
skirts, inside her.
She was breathing shallowly, careful not to make any loud sounds. She wasn't in
pain, not exactly. Petyr had started slowly as he always did, but by now he
used all his fingers. As he slowly moved them in and out the sensation verged
on pain. Alayne whimpered. She felt Petyr grip harder around her hair. His
breath was shallow as well. It sounded almost devotional.
Finally she felt her muscles down therestart to contract. Soon her whole body
was shaking, as if she’d somehow caught Lord Robert’s sickness. When her
shaking died down Petyr let go of her hair and pulled his hand out of her.
Alayne let herself fall face first down into the cushions. She lay with her
face pressed into them until she was sure he was done sucking her wetness from
his fingers. Then she put a smile on her lips and rolled over to look at him.
“Thank you, father,” she said. She knew he liked it when she said that.
“Ah, sweetling,” he replied, stroking her over her back. “Not at all, not at
all. Though now that I think about it, there issomething you could do for me.
It’d make me veryhappy. Do you want that, sweetling? Do you want to make me
very happy like I just made you very happy?”
“Y-yes, father. What do you want me to do?”
Her word seemed to make him shudder. He closed his eyes and smiled, then he
looked back down at her. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He cleared
his throat, but still he couldn't speak. By way of answer he instead unlaced
his breeches. He was hasty and careless now, not at like he’d been when he
unlaced her bodice. His member almost forced itself out as he undid the ties,
already as large as Alayne had ever seen it.
She went down to the floor between his legs. She took a deep breath, and then
put her mouth around his member. She didn’t need his directions anymore; she
knew how to swirl her tongue, tighten her lips and force down her nausea when
he thrust too deep. As always she was very conscious of her teeth, but they
didn’t seem to hurt him even when she accidentally grazed him with them. It was
over quickly, faster than usual. The bitter, salty liquid filled her mouth, and
Alayne forced herself to swallow.
Petyr was groaning, biting his own hand as if to quiet himself. He drew her up
to sit on his lap. Then his hand was in her hair again, but this time he was
just softly twirling it between his fingers.
“Oh, Cat…” he whispered softly, hugging her.
Alayne blinked back tears.
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