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“You look beautiful, my lady. My lord father and brothers are lucky men indeed.”

She's sure Brandon means it to comfort her, but it mostly makes her cheeks turn even redder. “Thank you, my lord,” she mutters to the floor, cursing her own timidness, so unlike her, but she can't quite bring herself to meet his eye right now. More than shame and dread is an odd sense of guilt, the lingering belief she will dishonour her husband and her marriage vows if she does this, even though she knows it is not like that. This is her marriage vow.

Brandon takes note of her discomfort, and gently places a strong hand beneath her jaw to lift her chin. “Cat?” he asks, clearly deliberately softening himself. “Are you alright? Are you ready? Do we need to wait?”

Cat's hand quivers where she grips the bannister, but she shakes her hand. “No, best – best get it over with.” She smiles, but irritatingly, Brandon frowns. She knows he would much prefer it if she were looking forward to this, as she was to their wedding night in Riverrun. Still, he knows her septa's voice won't be quietened that easily, it can't be helped. “I'm ready, Brandon, really. Let your brothers do their worst.”

Brandon does smile then, and offers his arm, which she grips readily. In truth, she deliberately dressed plainly, a simple blue linen frock, for fear that she might not get the dress back after. Brandon has told her not to worry, that his father and brothers are all good, gentle, honourable men, nothing like him really. And Catelyn does trust him, but she also remembers the way Lysa described it, Northerners setting upon southern gentle women like a pack of wolves upon a lamb. Catelyn shivers slightly. Best be careful in any case.

“Cat? Are you cold?” Brandon quickly discards the cloak from his shoulders to wrap it around hers, for which she is grateful.

“Not yet, although I probably will be once we get outside,” she says. “I admit, I don't understand why we have to do this out in the godswood, and not indoors where it's warm. And there are beds.”

Brandon smiles again at that. “Tradition, I'm afraid. The Old Gods need to know we've actually done it.”

Ah yes, tradition. The reason she is about to have sex with her father by law and both her brothers by law also. Lord Rickard was quite understanding when they made the match, telling her that there was no need to go through with it as normal for a southern lady, that a symbolic gesture would do, no more than a kiss, but Catelyn wouldn't hear of it. If I am to be Lady of the North, then I must do what a Northern lady would, she told him. Your people will never respect me, never regard me as one of them, if I am not willing to be one of them.

She had been thinking of her duty, of course, to be the best lady and the best wife to any man her father chose to give her to. She had not been thinking that she would actually have to fuck four men at once, only one of whom is technically her husband. Not for the first time, she wonders how such a tradition even began: the maester back at Riverrun said it was a matter of avoiding succession disputes, for a man was unlikely to rebel against his brother's son if he couldn't be sure said son wasn't his own. But that wouldn't be much help if the firstborn child was a daughter, and apparently the smallfolk do it too, so Cat isn't sure.

She stops Brandon in his tracks, and he looks back at her, worried. “Catelyn?”

Cat gives him her best reassuring smile, and then wordlessly reaches for the laces of his shirt, pulling it half open. She grins as fresh white skin and hardened muscle beneath it is revealed to her, and gentle runs her finger down his chest, stopping just short of rubbing at a nipple. She likes to think she looks much braver than she feels. “I might need something pretty to look at,” she explains, and Brandon chuckles.

“You do my brothers a disservice, my lady,” says Brandon. She raises an eyebrow. “I won't say any of them are as handsome as me, but... you might find them more interesting than you expect. Who knows,” he leans in, whispering hot and filthy in her ear, “maybe you'll make me jealous.”

Catelyn shudders. Perhaps he's right. Perhaps she will enjoy it. She holds little hope, but still.

The others are all waiting for them in the godswood, Lord Rickard and Ned and Benjen. They all look rather grim, ready to perform their duty and nothing more, and Catelyn is almost insulted, although that might be a sign of hysteria. She smiles politely to her goodfather. “Lord Stark.”
“Lady Tully.”

When they left Riverrun she was already being called Lady Stark, but she knows the Northerners will not consider her fully wedded until this is done. She turns her smile to her brothers by law instead. “Ned,” she says warmly, and he does his best to smile back – which isn't easy, since he seems to be the only person as embarrassed by all this as she is. Catelyn hasn't met her goodbrother many times but she likes to think they are friends, if not close ones, which seems to amuse Brandon. Oh, of course you two get along, he said. Only person who can go on about honour and duty as much as you. Catelyn slapped him for that, but playfully, on the arm.

The last brother, young Benjen, is something of an enigma to her. He seems more serious than Brandon but less serious than Ned. She doesn't think they've actually met before. And now I am to make a man of him. If Brandon were from anywhere else in Westeros, she and he probably would have wed a few years ago, as now she is uncomfortably close to her twentieth nameday – but they were all waiting for his youngest brother to come of age. There was no rush, after all, and if they hadn't Catelyn would apparently simply have to have done it once he was of age, and Cat wonders if it's Brandon's concern for her or his own pride that would make him mislike that. Could it be both?

Benjen is, she notes, the only one whose intentions show on his body – between his legs. The sight of him makes her blush, but she can hardly blame him, at that age. Unwittingly, she traces his hardness with her eyes. He doesn't look bigger than Brandon, but he doesn't look smaller either. There is a rush of heat between her own legs, just as the dread in her stomach curdles. Will she enjoy it? Could she enjoy it?

“I'm glad it is not snowing,” Catelyn says, defaulting to the easiest subject of conversation. “I may be uncomfortable, but I need not be too cold.”

“But you might end up covered in white regardless,” says Brandon, and Cat turns to glare at him.


He chuckles. Perhaps he's right, it's pointless to get indignant over a dirty joke given what is about to happen, but Cat can only deny her instincts so much. Beneath one of the trees, Ned frown.

“My lady,” he says, gruff and yet unsure of himself, “if you're not – we could wait–”

“It's fine, Ned,” she insists, batting his concerns away with a flick of her wrist. It is easier when she can reassure someone else, not herself. “It must be done. I am ready.”

“My brave girl,” Brandon whispers, having moved behind her, reaching around to unfasten the cloak and lay it before her feet – very chivalrous, for a man about to give his wife over to half his family. He presses his body against hers and suddenly she can feel him hard against her backside, and that makes her breath quicken as she unwittingly pushes back against him, remembering all she's done with him, every way he's used that cock to pleasure her, since they've been wed. Gods, she wants him. But that is alright: he is her love, he is her husband, she is meant to want him. His brothers and father are a different matter. What is she more afraid of? Having to take them all even if she doesn't enjoy it? Or taking them all and enjoying it – because what would that make her?

Brandon's hands are around her waist, she realises, and moving upwards to knead her breasts, pressing soft kisses to her neck. “Brandon–” she gasps, making eyes with her goodfather across the godswood, and even the old man has started to harden at the sight of her. It is not so different from the bedding, she tells herself. She's sure she saw a few of the men stripping her then hard as well, although she knew they all loved her too dearly – and were reluctant enough to have their hands chopped off – to try and take any liberties. In truth, she'd not hated that. She'd expected to feel humiliated, as all those men tore her clothes off and prepared her for her husband's use, but instead she felt oddly relieved. It was rare she ever felt more like a woman and less like a lady. “–What are you–?”

“Getting you ready, love,” Brandon tells her, and she groans as she sucks the skin on her neck hard enough to leave a mark. “You're such a good girl,” he whispers as one of his hands moves down, folding over her centre and rubbing firmly, making her jump and bite her lip not to moan aloud. “So noble, so honourable, so kind. I couldn't have asked for a better wife, and I won't have my wife suffering through a bedding. I want you to enjoy it. If this lot don't do everything they can to pleasure you, we will have words.”

Catelyn is shivering while he talks to her, rutting against his cock almost shamelessly, except of course she can never be shameless, and so she is horribly embarrassed while her husband's family stare at her. “Brandon – you realise they can hear–”

“Good,” he says. “They know what I expect of them.”

And then she finds herself pushed down, ever so gently, until she's kneeling on the cloak. Her father and brothers by law are coming closer, and Brandon still stands above her, grinning, but Catelyn refuses to let herself feel small. I can be brave. And I can enjoy it. I certainly have permission to. Hesitantly, she reaches for the laces of her dress. Then she pauses. “Actually, do you mind if I keep this on?” she asks. “I can just pull it up to my waist, I'm not terribly worried about my modesty, just – it's rather cold.”

In truth she feels less cold now than she did standing up, since the hot springs run beneath the earth and keep it warm, but Lord Rickard smiles and nods at her regardless. As they all come closer, Catelyn does not let herself panic. “Is there a position I should get in?” she asks. After all, the Starks are all meant to be wolves. Would they like it if she got onto her hands and knees?

Brandon chuckles again. “I don't think it makes much difference, sweetling. On your back is fine.”

Of course, on her back. That is, after all, traditional. Catelyn lies down, and is stunned by how warm the ground feels – it's still quite hard, and yet apart from that, it's like falling onto a warm, welcoming bed. She bites her lip. She realises Brandon's touch set a flame within her, as it always does, and if they were back in his chambers she would spread her legs and ask him to come between them, but she remembers the rules and he is not supposed to have her until every other man has had his turn. Her breath hitches again. It must be done. And strangely, she does not feel the same dread she did before. “So,” she says, keeping her voice as calm as possible, “who is to be first?”

“The father is traditional,” comes a voice from behind the men's backs, making Cat poke her head up curiously, but she can't see anything. “Well, when he's still alive. Other than that it's the second eldest.”

“Lyanna!” cries Ned, and they part just enough so that Catelyn can see a young woman clad in riding breeches emerge from the trees, with mussed hair and a grin. “What are you doing here?”

Lyanna shrugs. “You all ran off to go do something interesting,” she says, giving Catelyn a significant look as she does so and making her blush deeper. “I felt left out.”

“You're not supposed to be here,” says her lord father, a stern frown upon his face.

“What, are you all going to get confused and fuck me instead?”

Rickard and Ned both look scandalised, but Benjen and Brandon both look amused, Brandon barely containing his laughter. Catelyn's not sure what to feel. Why is the young woman here? Does she simply want to know what she should be prepared for on her own wedding night? But no, Lyanna Stark is betrothed to Robert Baratheon, although she seems in no great hurry to actually marry him - she won't have to do all this. That seems unfair, now Catelyn thinks about it.

Lyanna sighs. “I just thought, this must be a little unsettling for my new sister,” she says, and Catelyn isn't sure they've ever spoken before but still, the woman is her sister, or she will be once this is done. “I thought a woman's presence might reassure her.”

Catelyn blinks. She didn't think of that before, but yes, it would. Someone approaching this from the same perspective she is, or at least, one a little closer to hers.

Lord Rickard seems conflicted, looking back and forth between is gooddaughter and his daughter. Catelyn smiles once again, and nods. Rickard sighs. “Very well, Lyanna, you can stay.”

Lyanna grins, and quickly runs over, kneeling by Catelyn's head. “It's alright, Lady Tully, this lot will take care of you,” she says, running her fingers through Catelyn's hair. Catelyn leans to the touch slightly. She's always found having her hair brushed comforting. “I mean, you've already wed Brandon. Really, you're through the worst of it.”

Brandon smirks proudly at that, and then he and Lyanna share a look, one that makes Catelyn wonder if they've not plotted something. Someone is raising her skirt, she realises, but she can't bear to look. Then she realises she is doing it herself. She whines softly, then blushes to have made such a pitiful noise, and Lyanna soothes her once more. “Don't worry, Cat, everything's going to be alright.” And then she gets a smirk across her face, just like her brother's. She lowers herself down and leans in to Catelyn's ear, voice so soft her father and brothers can't possibly hear it:

“I'll fuck you so hard you won't remember these boys' names.”

Catelyn shudders.

But there's no time to truly process that before Lord Stark drops to his knees also, giving her a near apologetic look. “I'm afraid my daughter spoke truly,” he says. “It would be usual for me to have you first. Unless, of course, you have some objection?”

She shakes her head. “No, no, that is quite alright with me.” He is not truly handsome, her goodfather, Brandon seems to have gotten his looks from his mother, but still he is not exactly ugly either. He seems quite distinguished for a man of his years. He is old enough to be my father, but of course he is, and Catelyn sees no reason that should matter. Spreading her legs for such a man should be easy enough, and she does not have to marry him.

Spread her legs she does, as Lord Rickard unlaces himself and fingers keep running through her hair comfortingly, for which Cat is grateful although she doesn't remember to check whose they are. He has a small belly, her goodfather, although he has put on nowhere near as much weight as some men his age. Then Lord Rickard's cock springs out, red and hard among black and silver hairs, and Catelyn does her best not to gasp. He looks painfully ready for her, a drop of white fluid on the tip, and when she thinks that makes sense – Lord Stark has been a widower many years now, and she has heard of no mistress, which doesn't guarantee there isn't one but still, there's a good chance she's the first woman he's had in, well, some length of time. But oh, it looks big. Bigger than Brandon. She's sure a man's cock doesn't keep growing throughout his lifetime, but looking at Lord Stark, you could think otherwise. She bites her lip in anticipation, in fear. It could be painful, all that, but she thought as much when she first saw Brandon's – and that wasn't painful, or only at the start, but after a little while it was wonderful, feeling all full of his cock. Will even more be better?

She expects Lord Stark to ask her something before he begins, but he doesn't, just pushes in while she's still caught in reverie and Catelyn gasps as she feels that cock pierce her. “Catelyn!” she looks up and sees Ned, hands in her hair, too worried to bother with his usual discomfort. Rickard grunts and pushes himself deeper in, about halfway, and Catelyn moans and closes her eyes. Oh, it hurts. It hurt when Brandon took her maidenhead also, but she expected that, thought it part of becoming a woman. She is already a woman now, but it's bigger than Brandon, stretches her wider – and yet, there is something satisfying about the pain. She squirms and whimpers on an old man's cock, but it is not awful, not at all.

“Careful, Father,” she hears Lyanna, still kneeling by her side, a thumb brushing her cheek softly. “I don't think Brandon's broken her in that well.”

Brandon gives an irritated grunt that they all ignore, and Lord Stark pauses, opening his eyes to look into Catelyn's. “Daughter,” he says, and oh, she is his gooddaughter now, and his cock is buried inside her, and she knows that should not make her feel so hot and wet. Despite the pain, she feels strangely unsatisfied with him just staying still like that, and starts to squirm again, “are you alright?”

“Quite alright,” she says, breathless. “Just – you're rather large, my lord. Father.” Unwittingly, his cock drives deeper into her when she says that, and she gasps, clawing at his shoulder. “It's not more than I can take, but – you may wish to go slowly, that's all.”

“Of course,” he says, and then gently presses a kiss to her brow. He doesn't speak after that, only sighs as he slowly pushes his length the rest of the way in, and Catelyn bites her lip not to squeal, feeling herself filled completely and then some. She has Ned and Lyanna either side of her, Ned brushes her hair with a worried look, Lyanna smiling and cooing soothing whispers at her, both doing their best to comfort her. Then she feels a hand upon her breast, and looks up to see the other one, the youngest, with his hands over teats and thumbing her nipples through her gown. Cat moans and arches to the touch, perhaps regretting having left the dress on after all, as Lord Rickard starts to slowly thrust in and out of her, making her feel stretched even wider. She suddenly realises she feels good, being surrounded like this while her goodfather fucks her, and that sets off a titter of panic in her chest. “Brandon–?”

“Right here, sweetling,” comes a voice from behind her head, and when she cranes her neck up she can just see him, but that hurts too much to keep it up long. “Just getting a bit crowded, that's all.”

“Try and relax, Lady Tully,” says Lyanna. “That will make it all easier.”

Ned says nothing, but his hand remains in her hair, tethering her to the earth.

Lord Stark is clearly trying to be patient, maintaining his slow pace, but she can feel when his control starts to slip and he starts to push in and out of her harder, deeper, faster. To her surprise, she doesn't mind when that happens – instead her legs spread wider and she moans, arching her back as she rocks up into his thrusts, clenching tight and wet around the length of him. He groans, not meeting her eye, and Catelyn finds her legs hitching up and hooking around his waist, trying to pull him closer, trying to force him into her. She is enjoying it. That's what this is, that's the only thing that makes sense, that she is being fucked by her husband's father and loving it, keening for more, gasping and moaning in pleasure as a big cock has its way with her. She wants more. She wants more. And, she realises, she will get it.

“That's it,” says Benjen as she buckles beneath the attention, and frankly given how young he is she's not sure what right he has to speak with such authority, but his hands upon her breasts feel too good for her to protest.

Ned is still to her side, and she turns her head and sees the hard outline of his prick almost bursting out of his breeches, and she bites her lip. He wonders what he would think if she asked so suck it. Would he think her a slattern? But given she's here to be fucked by four men (and perhaps one woman), all of whom want her to enjoy it, her being slattern seems not only accepted, but encouraged. And that thought sends a thrill down her spine, although maybe the breadth of Lord Rickard's cock, now thrusting in hard and fast, urged on by how she wails and moans, helps there.

She turns her head and faces Lyanna, grinning almost like she's proud of Catelyn – odd, given they don't even know each other. Still, Catelyn has never really considered women before, but the girl is here, and she wonders how Lyanna would feel if Cat asked to use her mouth on her the way Brandon has on Cat. She thinks she would be a good deal less shy about it than Ned would. I'll fuck you so hard you won't remember these boys' names. Catelyn can't imagine how Lyanna would do that, she seems to be lacking crucial parts, but she can't help but be curious also.

“Hey, hey. What about me love?” a hand gently cups her chin and pushes it upwards, tilting her face towards Brandon's. Rickard grunts as his thrusts quicken between her legs and Catelyn gasps, arching off the white cloak, but Ned quickly grabs her hand, keeps her tethered down. “So beautiful. Can't help but be jealous,” Brandon smirks at her, and Cat rolls her eyes.

“How many times have you had me, love?” Brandon frowns as if he's actually trying to remember, although Cat knows they've both long since lost count. Between twenty and thirty, she believes. She sighs. “Very well then, if you're so impatient – come here.”

She expects him to mock her for still sounding so proper even with her goodfather's cock buried in her cunny (and admittedly it takes some effort not to moan through her words), but instead he just looks confused as he inches toward her face, sharing looks with his siblings. “Wait – what do you want me to–?”

“I have a mouth, my lord.”

He blinks in surprise, and Catelyn feels a rush of pride as she sees him, ever so faintly, blush. She's not done this many times, no more than thrice – she only thought of it because he loves to use his mouth on her, did it without ever being asked, and after it only seemed fair she should at least attempt to repay the favour. She didn't really have any idea what she was doing – she still doesn't – but Brandon was eager to teach her. She always thought sucking a man's cock was the sort of thing only whores would do, for the coin, for surely the woman couldn't actually get anything out of it? And yet, she found herself rather enjoying it. It made her feel powerful, having him come apart between her lips, making writhe and beg for her to make him spill his seed.

“Brave, this one,” Lyanna chuckles, her hand winding through Catelyn's hair. “If a little impatient. I think we'll get along.”

Benjen shrugs. “Well, you can't knock her efficiency.”

Ned frowns. “Isn't the whole point of this that we're meant to all be able to get her with child?”

“Oh shut up Ned,” says Lyanna.

Catelyn chuckles to herself, and then gasps as Lord Rickard suddenly grabs ahold of her thighs and pushes them up to her chest, thrusting in harder, deeper, rough and unsteady, and oh seven hells he is about to spend. She's about to have her goodfather's come buried between her legs, and the thought has her squirming and gasping, rocking up to meet his thrusts, clenching tight around his thick cock, desperate for it. “Brandon,” she gasps, half-mad with desire, “my mouth – before–”

His prick is between her lips before she even finishes her sentence, which is rather rude of him but she cannot bring herself to complain, too busy moaning as the telltale taste of salt filling her mouth. And there she is, with one man's cock in her mouth and another's, her goodfather's, in her cunt. What a whore she must look. What her father would say if he could see her now. What her septa would say. What Lysa would say. And yet, Catelyn is not ashamed.

And why should she be? This is what she's meant to do. This is the duty her father bestowed on her. What is so wrong in enjoying it? Her goodbrothers and goodsister all seem very understanding about it, all eager to have their turn. Why shouldn't she be happy with them?

She has heard, in the North it is not so uncommon for a man's wife to become more-or-less common property of the family after this first bedding, to be shared between them. Of course, no-one would expect her to consent to that, but perhaps...

Lord Rickard groans as suddenly stills inside her, digging his fingers into the snow covered ground. Catelyn thinks he might of wanted to bury his face in her neck, but she is still sucking his son's cock and that might be a little too close for comfort, even among these strange northerners. She gasps quietly as she feels him spend, hot and wet between her legs, and that makes Brandon groan as he pushes his cock back and forth a little faster, a little rougher between her lips. He always tries to be careful with her, but he never succeeds. In truth, she thinks he rather underestimates what she can take.

“Forgive me, my lady,” says Lord Rickard, and Catelyn is only half-listening, distracted by the taste of Brandon's prick leaking into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the head of it and crooking her neck up to try and take more. She's not at a very convenient angle for this. “I meant to warn you before...”

Suddenly Brandon pulls out of her mouth with a pop, and Cat almost whines aloud before she manages to catch at herself. He smirks at her and raises an eyebrow before looking over to her father, and she realises he's reminding her it would be polite to answer. She looks back down to Lord Rickard, flushed and tired, softening inside her. “That's quite alright, my lord,” she says. “I do know how it works.”

He doesn't answer that, simply shudders as he pulls out and retreats to go catch his breath by one of the trees. Cat is empty again, and she feels it, stretched and slightly sore as the seed coming out of her starts to cool against her thighs. Gods, how hard did he spend in her? She shudders at the thought. They mean to get her with child, with four men's seed, so neither her nor they will ever know whose the babe really is (although if it comes a few weeks early, that would rather give the game away). Why does that thought make her feel so hot, why does it make her squirm, desperate for another one of them to take their turn?

Before they can, however, she realises it would be wise of her to take advantage of the momentary reprieve to adjust her position. Gently brushing aside Ned, Benjen and Lyanna's hands (Lyanna has no intention of getting her pregnant, she realises, Lyanna is simply here for the fun of it) Catelyn rolls over and then pushes herself up on her hands and knees, smiling up at Brandon as she leans in over his cock. “There we go,” she says as she reaches forth to take him in her hand, feeling him wet with her saliva. “My neck was starting to cramp.”

“I would have asked, but you were enjoying yourself so much, I didn't want to interrupt,” Brandon teases her, and Cat gives a huff of mock-indignation before swiping her tongue back over his slit, making him gasp and clutch at her hair. Gods, it is so tempting to simply take him back between her lips and suck him until he spills, but still she feels a cloying emptiness between her legs, and she ought to remember that even if she is enjoying herself now, that is not the point, she has a purpose, she has a duty.

“Ned,” she says, pulling back from Brandon, and she has no idea if she's supposed to have them in order of age or anything, but still his is the name she finds falling from her lips, “would you like to–“

He does not answer her per se, simply murmurs Mm, but soon she feels him positioning himself beside her, firm square hands resting gently, almost hesitantly on her hips. Cat sighs with relief and then opens her mouth for Brandon again, and he groans and bucks forward a little too far – she gags a little and then opens her eyes to glare at him, his cock still in her mouth. Brandon curses under his breath and pulls back, and Catelyn rewards him by moving her hand to circle his cock and cup his balls as she sucks him fiercely.

“Careful, Brandon,” Ned warns his brother, and Cat really has the situation under control but still, she's grateful for the concern. He has his prick in hand and soon she feels him pushing it against her cunt, rubbing back and forth oh so softly, making her groan, almost teasing her, except she doesn't think it's really in Ned's nature to tease. “My lady,” he says, voice low and gruff and yet, somehow rather shy, “are you ready for me to–?”

“Come now Ned, she asked you didn't she?” says Brandon. “You don't need to worry so much, little brother. It took me by surprise too, but she's quite eager when she gets going. She likes it. And she's always liked you.”

Catelyn flushes then, not entirely certain what she's flushing at, and Ned simply makes an irritated noise before pushing inside her, and oh, that gets her mind off it. Catelyn gasps around Brandon's prick and he unwittingly thrusts deeper into her mouth, but she can't even bring herself to protest, not right now, and her second hand drops back to the ground to brace herself. Ned is not as big as his father, but he's not small either, and Catelyn moans as she feels him slowly bury himself whole, Lord Rickard's seed squelching inside her. She's sure most men in the south would find that disgusting, fucking into another man's come, let alone their own father's, but Ned doesn't even seem to think of that. These Northerners are different, and at the moment, Cat can't help but feel grateful.

Ned's hands on her bare skin are still soft, uncertain, and even as Brandon starts to lose patience and starts to really fuck her mouth, Ned stays painfully still. So still that Catelyn starts to lose patience too, starts to squirm, starts to buck, trying to make him lose his resolve and take her already. Ned shudders and digs his nails into her hips, but still, he doesn't move. “My lady,” he chokes out, “do you want–?”

Cat pulls off Brandon with a groan. “Yes, yes,” she gasps out, any worries about how she'll sound abandoning her. “Ned, I appreciate your concern but – gods, just fuck me, please, I can't stand waiting anymore–”

Even Ned's will is not iron, and at that he finally does move, a short sharp thrust that takes him by surprise as much as it does her. Cat lets out a soft moan and pushes back, encouraging him, “Yes, come on,” she whispers, before Brandon's hands are in her hair again and guiding her back to his prick.

“Come on Ned, you can do it, we believe in you,” Brandon mutters as Catelyn resumes her sucking, tasting the wetness on the end of his cock and realising he can't last much longer, and she should stop if he's meant to have her properly later, but she can't seem to make herself, and Ned just lets out an irritated growl before he starts moving faster, starts moving properly, and Catelyn knows she's moaning like a slut in a brothel but she can't seem to care, she can't seem to think, it just feels good– “Come on Cat, come on, there's my girl, come on...” Brandon is muttering and Cat wonders what he's on about before he pulls her hair hard, and her mouth is flooded with the taste of salt as he groans loudly, releasing his seed straight down her throat, and Cat coughs wetly around it.

Brandon chuckles, almost embarrassed as he pulls out, and Catelyn swallows some but most of it runs down her chin rather undignifiedly. She glares at him. “You could have warned me,” she gasps.

“Sorry sweetling, got carried away,” Brandon flinches, seemingly genuinely guilty, and then Catelyn can't think about it anymore because Ned huffs as he starts to move fast, making her moan so loud all of Winterfell must be able to hear her, but gods she loves it, loves it hard and fast and Ned, shy as he is, is strong, she can feel the strength in him as he holds her tight, pulls her up onto his cock, but he's still holding back, she knows he is.

Even as he fucks her hard, he's still asking questions. “Cat – do you want to – move?”

He can barely speak he's panting so hard, and Cat isn't much better. “No,” she forces out. Right now she doesn't much care what position she takes it in, but if they were to move they'd have to stop, and she can't stand the thought.

“You've married yourself a she-wolf, Brandon,” laughs Lyanna and Cat remembers there are two other Stark siblings she has somewhat neglected. “Likes it from behind.”

Cat blushes at that, and Ned groans as he keeps going, while Lyanna's grin spreads wider. “Slow down for a second Ned,” she says, and Catelyn makes in irritated noise. Why? “I mean you don't have to stop, I think she might punch you if you do. But leave some room, I want to try something.”

Ned pauses, and Cat tries to bite back a whine, glaring at Lyanna suspiciously. What is the girl playing at? “Lyanna – what are you–?”

“Lyanna, this is not why I agreed to let you stay here,” says Lord Rickard, now redressed and looking only the vaguest bit interested in Catelyn lying there half-naked for their use. Lyanna pouts at him.

“Come on Father, she is to be my sister after all. Shouldn't we sisters have a little fun?” Do sisters often have this sort of fun up north? she almost asks, but the words catch in her throat as Lyanna is coming closer, still grinning, perched by her side and Ned doesn't seem any more certain about this than Catelyn. “It's alright, Lady Tully. Promise I won't hurt you. Unless you like that.”

Catelyn flushes again, and Ned, perhaps unwittingly, starts to rock his hips again making her moan, not going as fast as he was before as they're both just waiting to see what Lyanna will do. Catelyn feels Lyanna's fingers, softer than her brothers' but still quite rough for a lady's, running over her skin, across her bare lower back and down the globes of her arse. Ned takes a breath. “Lyanna–“

“Relax Ned, I'll keep my distance,” she chuckles, and then Catelyn yelps slightly as she feels two fingers slip between, running down the seam of her and then she moans softly as Lyanna finds what she's looking for, a hole to breach, another hole– “Have you tried this before, my lady?” asks Lyanna, swirling her fingertips in low, teasing circles. “Has my bad big brother already fucked you up the arse?”

“Lyanna!” Ned and Lord Rickard say in unison, scandalised, although words clearly come more easily to the latter. Brandon just chuckles though, and Benjen stares on, seeming a little bemused. Cat flushes deeper.

“Not – not fucked,” she admits, rather glad she isn't looking Ned in the eye while he fucks her. “But he has – used his fingers...”

Lyanna pulls a face. “Well, at least he's given you some time to get used to it.”

“I thought she might like it,” says Brandon, grinning. “She did like it.”

On that, Brandon speaks truly. She had been very unsure at first, thought it would hurt, thought it was dirty, thought it was the sort of thing only whores would do. That's what you said about sucking my cock, Brandon told her, and she was reminded of how quickly she'd taken to that. It was dirty, but as Brandon said, that was half the appeal. And it did hurt, a little bit at least, but Brandon was patient with her and... it just made her overwhelmed, his cock buried in her cunt while his fingers pried her open elsewhere. It was like she couldn't get enough, it was like he couldn't get enough, and it made her feel greedy, shameless, wanton... good. It made her feel good.

“Oh?” asks Lyanna, smirking down at Catelyn as she presses her fingers harder, hard enough to make her hiss, and Cat is wet enough with her own juices and Ned and Rickard's seed that Lyanna could easily push at least one in if she tried. “Is that right, my lady?” she asks, and Ned grunts as he thrusts in and out, hard, and Catelyn can feel him twitching inside her and gods, it's almost too much. “Do you like taking it up the arse?”

Catelyn might usually be too proper to ever admit it, but she is long beyond the state where she can think of such things. “Yes,” she moans, rocking back onto Ned's cock eagerly and silencing any noises of disapproval. “Gods, yes.”

Lyanna laughs. “Alright then. I think you'll find, Lady Tully, I can be a very generous sister.” And then she pushes one finger straight in, and Cat gasps and hisses at the pain but it's not a bad sort of pain, it's like stepping into a hot bath, and Ned hisses as he feels her tighten around his cock. At that all his hesitance fades, his fingers dig into her hips as he fucks her as hard as he can, his cock brushing against Lyanna's finger through her thin walls, and it's so filthy and so good that Cat moans like a cheap whore.

“That's a lie,” comments young Benjen, and Lyanna, never removing her fingers, turns to pout at him. Catelyn's eyes follow Lyanna, and when she sees Benjen, she stops. His breeches are open, his cheeks flushed as he strokes his own cock needily, biting his lip like he's trying to hold back. Cat feels a pang of perhaps irrational guilt. She is meant to be his first, after all, and yet she's all but ignored him. She ought to rectify that.

“Benjen,” she calls out to him, and he looks surprised to be acknowledged, but not displeased. “If you would like some help there...”

He thinks it over a moment, and frowns. “Tempting, but I don't think I should,” he says. “I'm not sure how long I could hold back – probably not until Ned is finished, and if we're meant to be getting you with child...”

Gods, he's almost as bad as I am. Brandon, as he would with her, laughs at his brother. “Oh, come off it Ben,” he says. “At your age, she'll get you off and five seconds later you'll be hard again. So go on, have some fun. If I might recommend: she's good with her tongue.”

Cat flushes at that, and that's the moment Lyanna chooses to add a second finger completely without warning, and Cat cries out at the shock and the pain, and really as wet as she is some oil wouldn't hurt, but barely a second later she's rocking back as Lyanna twists her fingers in and out and Ned grunts and moans, thrusting erratically like he can barely hold back himself. Benjen looks at her a moment. “If you're sure,” he says.

“I am,” she says, biting her lip to keep back the moans, and then he's in front of her, offering his red prick in his hand, and that was fast. She considers stroking it some, but when she tries to lift a hand off the ground her arms quake so badly she's afraid she might collapse, so instead she chooses to just open wide. Benjen takes the hint, and thrusts into her mouth.

She groans as she tastes him, having to swallow back the fluid that's already started to drip from him, and he hisses as her lips tighten around him, the muscle in his thighs spasming. Catelyn's not all that sure she will be his first like she's meant to be, but she's fairly sure she's the first to ever do this to him. In that case, she ought to make it good. As if to apologise for being unable to use her hands on him, she opens her mouth wider, invites him to go deeper than she normally would. She can tell he's trying to hold back, trying not to hurt her, but at his age he only has so much self-control. When she feels him start to nudge at the back of her throat, her eyes start to water and she almost gags, but she forces down the instinct. In truth, Brandon's trained her fairly well over these past few weeks, not that she wants to let on to him.

“Catelyn – my lady–” Ned is gasping behind her, and he must be close, gods he must be, “may I–?“ yes, of course you can come in me, that's the whole point, and besides I want you too. She can't say any of that though, because her mouth is full. “May I grab your hair?”

Cat blinks. What a strange question. Still, she pulls off Benjen long enough to answer it. “Of course, Ned,” she says, and his hands almost fly from her hips in their rush to her red locks, and he pulls a little hard, making her gasp. “Sorry,” he mutters, but Cat can't answer because Benjen's cock is between her lips again, and she doesn't want to pull away now.

Lyanna laughs. “Really Ned, how long were you trying to work up the courage to ask permission for that?” she asks, wiggling her fingers deep in Cat. “Of all the things to be shy about.”

Cat swears she can hear Ned blushing. “She has nice hair,” he mutters.

In front of her, Benjen is shaking. “My lady,” he chokes out, and his hands are winding through hair too, pulling her closer. “I think I'm going to–”

Oh. Well she can't be surprised he didn't last too long, at his age. She almost pulls away, but then out of the corner of her eye she sees Brandon, watching her half-hard again, and she smirks a little inside. She looks up, catches Benjen's eye, and nods. He gasps a little, and she, looking back at Brandon, braces herself to swallow.

It doesn't taste like much, just salt really, and the texture is still strange and slimy, but she manages well enough. She takes all of Benjen's seed with a soft moan, and when he pulls away, he gives a little bow in gratitude. “My lady,” he chuckles.

Across from them, Brandon rolls his eyes. “Alright Cat, you've made your point.”

Behind her, Ned groans and gasps, pulling at her hair. “Cat – I'm going–”

And he stops, shuddering as he releases deep inside her. Cat gasps as she feels it, hot wet come dripping out around his prick and down her thighs, and she decides she likes the feel of it between her legs better than the feel of it in her mouth. Which, when she thinks about it, is probably for the best. “Ned,” she moans as he pulls out of her, and Lyanna pulls her fingers away too for no good reason, leaving a sting and an ache in all her holes, a cool emptiness, and she's gone from feeling like it's too much to feeling like it's not enough.

She's almost ready to whine like a spoiled child, another, again, more, but she catches herself – she is still a little reticent of sounding like a slattern – and thinks it through. Which of them even can give it to her right now? Ned and Benjen are both newly spent, and while she has definitely roused Brandon's interest again, she doesn't think he's quite ready yet. She thinks he's supposed to wait 'til the end in any case. And Lord Rickard is older, he will probably only be able to manage the one go. Benjen was right, they should have waited, but Cat let herself get greedy, she realises with a flush.

Still, there is nothing to be done about it now. “So, now we wait?” she asks, even as her cunny protests most vigorously. She wonders if they would mind if she reached down to pleasure herself instead, but she doesn't know how to ask.

“Not quite, Lady Tully,” says Lyanna, and now her hand is in Cat's her, and Cat looks up, curious. “What, you think I'm going to let this lot get away with neglecting you? No, I've brought my new goodsister a little present.”

Catelyn raises an eyebrow, wondering what the Stark girl is on about, but then she notices a leather pocket bulging at the side of her breeches. Lyanna opens that pocket and from it withdraws more leather, something long and thick and black and Catelyn has no idea what it is until it's all the way out – it's the shape of a cock, she realises, and comes with dangling straps and buckles and oh

“Lyanna!” says Ned, sounding scandalised again. “Where did you get–?”

“Oh come on Ned, that would be telling,” says Lyanna as she stands to shuck her breeches down her thighs and afix the thing to herself. “I don't want to send you all running there.”

Behind them, Brandon laughs, but Cat can only stare. Lyanna's fake cock looks big, bigger than Lord Rickard even, and Catelyn's almost embarrassed to realise the thought – the sight – excites her far more than it frightens her. Speaking of Lord Rickard, he sounds quite concerned. “Lyanna, you are promised to–”

“I know, but she's hardly going to take my maidenhead, is she?” says Lyanna, and Rickard gives a sigh as resigned as it is irritated as it is fond, and Catelyn realises none of these men knows how to say no to Lyanna. Not that she can blame them, she doesn't know how to say no either. Lyanna seems to realise that, grinning as she sits back down. “I'm just keeping her warmed up for you lot, that's all,” and that might be the flimsiest excuse Catelyn has ever heard. Lyanna spreads her legs as lewdly as any whore, even as the leather prick blocks her own cunny from view, and she doesn't seem the least bit ashamed. “Come on Cat, over here. I'm a very good horsewoman, you know. I'd like to see how you ride."

Catelyn gets up, holding her skirt to her waist as she settles into Lyanna's lap, and the girl grins, squeezing Cat's arse as she readies herself over the head of that fake cock. Still, Cat's pride has not completely abandoned her. “You know, I could consider this a breach of contract,” she comments as cooly as she can, and Lyanna raises an eyebrow. Cat drops her voice to a whisper, lest the men hear. “You promised you'd fuck me so hard I wouldn't remember any of their names. And yet now you're making me do all the work.”

Lyanna laughs at that, before leaning in to whisper her answer against Catelyn's neck. “Hey, I never said I'd fuck you so hard you wouldn't remember their names today.”

At that, Catelyn thrusts herself down.

Gods be good, she thinks as she stretches around it, and it is big, bigger than Rickard, but she's been used so well that that fact just makes her gape in pleasure and throw her head back. It feels different than the men's cocks, as well it should; it's softer, and Catelyn thinks it's probably stuffed with sawdust or some such thing, though maybe you can make ones with wood or stone or something else hard in the middle, and the leather is also rather cool to the touch, but that's alright, Cat thinks as she starts to move up and down on top of it, she'll simply have to warm it between her legs. “Oh, there we go,” mutters Lyanna, squeezing Cat's arse once more, and Cat wonders for a moment what she can possibly be getting out of this but she finds she doesn't much care. “Look at you, you're a natural. Born in the saddle. Fuck. You know, if all southern ladies are like you I now understand why men go on about them so much.”

Cat makes a noise, not really sure how flattered or insulted she should be. “Most southern ladies–” she gasps, her linen skirt fluttering over Lyanna's leather breeches, “–don't get much opportunity to act like this.”

“Ah, that explains it. Well aren't you lucky then?”

She's about to respond, but then she realises while they're chatting Lyanna's hands are moving again, and she's withdrawing something else from that leather pocket. Cat, even as she's still gasping with pleasure, frowns in confusion. “What are you–?”

“I brought oil,” Lyanna explains, and Cat nods. That in fact was quite a good idea, under the circumstances. Still, she suspects Lyanna will be using it more thoroughly than she might have– “I thought you might have asked me about that earlier.”

Cat makes an indignant noise, but she doesn't answer because Lyanna as two fingers slicked now and she's moving them behind Cat, behind where she's split open on leather and sawdust, returning her fingers to that other hole and Cat lets out a soft whine. “Want me to?” Lyanna whispers in her ear.

“If it's not too much bother.”

Lyanna laughs at that before she pushes two fingers back in with neary a further word and Cat hisses at the sting but it feels good, it feels better with the oil it always does, and she moans like a slattern as she squeezes around Lyanna's fake cock and lets the girl stretch her arse wide. It is completely wanton what she's doing now, wanton and pointless, for there isn't a chance in any of the seven hells of any of this somehow getting a child on her, but it doesn't seem to matter any more; after all, she's already had two men plant their seed, and is perfectly willing to have two more, but right now can't she simply enjoy being full?

And full she is, even fuller when Lyanna adds a third finger, making her scream to the high heavens. “Oh good, I made you scream,” Lyanna says, and Catelyn is starting to see that Brandon's smugness is not unique. “You should see the looks on these boys' faces, Lady Tully. They're so jealous.”

Catelyn opens her eyes, suddenly reminded that they are not alone. Perhaps Lady Lyanna meant what she said after all. Benjen and Brandon both look ready to go, which perhaps is her cue to leave Lyanna's lap in favour of trying to get her womb seeded again, but she can't quite bring herself to do it. “I'm not surprised,” Cat murmurs, but when the girl chuckles again, she feels she ought to try and cut her down to size, if only a little. “Although I screamed a couple of times on the end of your brother's cock too.

Lyanna thinks this over a moment, and nods. “True. You were loving the way he fucked you. Didn't quite know Ned had it in him, if I'm honest.” Across from them, Ned frowns, and Cat frowns in return. She pinches Lyanna's thigh in punishment, making the girl gasp. “Sorry. Still, I love my big brother, but he's not all that experienced, is he? Didn't quite know how to make you come.”

“You haven't done that either,” Cat points out.

Lyanna raises an eyebrow. “Oh, haven't I?”

Then her other hand is has moved, rubbing above where she's fucking Catelyn and Cat gasps and has to cling to her shoulders just to avoid falling over. Brandon found that spot on her soon enough, but she's never had it touched by someone who knows what it feels like and gods, Lyanna isn't gentle with her, her touch is all fast needy circles that have Catelyn's head spinning. Her fingers move faster as she does it, she splays them wide and stretches Cat's arse almost as wide as that present of hers is stretching her cunt, and Cat somehow feels more overwhelmed than she did before, on all fours with something in every hole. But now, this one girl, who cannot possibly be hoping to get a child on her, ses her every which way, and Catelyn loves it, she has to lean in and bite Lyanna's neck as every muscle in her tightens and she peaks with a cry.

She cannot be dignified then, she shudders and whines and almost sobs her way though it, although that doesn't seem to be what bothers Lyanna. “Ow,” she complains as Cat's teeth give up their hold on her neck. “That hurt.”

Luckily, Cat regains at least part of her composure soon enough to respond. “I've never known a wolf to flinch at a fish's bite,” she says.

“I've always quite liked the way my fish nips,” calls Brandon from over Lyanna's shoulder. Cat flushes. Really, he sounds rather familiar given they've only been wed a few weeks.

Lyanna rolls her eyes. “You're weird,” she says, which really, is something coming from a woman pretending to have a cock so she can fuck another. Not that Catelyn is complaining, but still.

A cough comes to their side, and Cat realises that was young Benjen. “Lya, I hate to interrupt,” he says, “but the rest of us do have to do something. I hate to mention it, but you're not going to get her with child.”

Lyanna huffs at that, and Cat can tell that she doesn't want to, that she's quite enjoying herself fucking Cat and doesn't want to stop, but she does realise she has to share. “Fine,” she mutters, pulling her fingers out and away before she pushes Catelyn up off the leather cock, leaving her groaning and empty. She could have left her fingers in. Lyanna motions for her to turn around, and Cat does so, ready to move over and spread her legs for Benjen instead. Before she can though, Lyanna stops her with hands on her hips. “Uh-uh, Lady Tully. I'm not done with you yet.”

Cat doesn't understand at first, and Benjen looks a little put out, but then Lyanna is pulling her back, adjusting her posture, and then she starts to feel that prick pressing against her again, but elsewhere, and she realises what the oil was about and– “Seven hells!”

Lyanna laughs as she brings Cat down onto her cock again, pushes it into the hole her fingers stretched open, and Cat's arse is wet with oil and Lyanna's cock is wet with Cat, so it goes easily, but tears still spring to Cat's eyes at the pain. This is madness, absolute madness, surely no woman should enjoy being taken in such a way, and no woman can enjoy taking in such a way, and yet Lyanna wants to do it and gods, Catelyn doesn't want to stop it. She moans as Lyanna finally comes to a stop, finally has the whole length buried inside her. Filthy, that's what it is. Absolutely filthy. And Catelyn's always been the good girl, the proper young lady, so why does she want so much to do these things you'd have to pay a whore half of Winterfell's treasury for?

Brandon is pouting, and that distracts her from her doubts by making her laugh at him. “Lya, I wanted to fuck her arse first.”

Lyanna shrugs. “Tough,” she says, and gives a quick, shallow thrust into Cat that makes her moan.

“Catelyn?” She blinks and realise Ned is by her side, stroking her hair again softly, looking down at her with a concerned frown. “Are you alright?”

Lyanna grunts as she thrusts once more, and Cat gasps before letting out a breathless laugh. “Your sister is quite bold, isn't she?” Ned smiles at that, and Cat, beneath every other one of her senses running amok at how overburden they are, feels her heart flutter a second. “I'm quite alright. I'll admit, it hurts a little, but–” she hisses as Lyanna slides in deep again “–I think I'll adjust soon enough. It's really not that bad. Not really bad at all.”

Ned nods, and Lyanna groans, running her hands softly up Catelyn's spread thighs. “It's alright, Lady Tully,” she says, sounding surprisingly out of breath. “I'm going to take care of you, real well.”

“Mm, indeed,” hums Catelyn, starting to settle into the rhythm, the pain starting to abate, “I think you're less likely to lose control than this one is,” she says, nodding toward Brandon.

He makes an offended noise. “You wound me, my lady,” he says. “Have I ever done anything you didn't like?”

“No, but I do know you have that wolfblood in you.”

“Oh, and I don't?” laughs Lyanna, picking up her pace, making Cat gasp. “I think you might trust me too much my lady.”

Cat moans as Lyanna starts to fuck her proper, and it still hurts but it feels good, good enough that her cunt starts to protest its neglect, reminding her it is the hole actually meant for fucking. Benjen stares with a raised eyebrow. “Lya, am I actually going to fit if you're doing that?”

“Never know until you try, little brother.”

Benjen sighs, defeated once more, and then he comes forward, Ned bashfully ducking out of his way. Cat groans and her legs spread wider of their own volition. Gods, they can't really mean to – surely that isn't possible. And yet, the two of them seem to think it worth a try at least, and the thought has Catelyn biting her lip and rocking her hips lewdly. She can't believe she would allow anyone to do such things with her, and yet she can't seem to stop herself. It's like they've awoken something she's kept sleeping a long time now, some wild beast inside her that cannot be satisfied, and may never be satisfied, except by the very filthiest of deeds. That thought is frightening, but it is exciting too.

He has his prick in hand, pressing it up against her, and Cat squirms at the feeling. “My lady,” he nods to her politely. She nods back, although she has never felt less like a lady.

It does fit, but not without some difficulty. He has to try three times before the head of it will finally slide inside her, and as soon as it does, Catelyn cries out, the pain doubling and her hands fly up, searching desperately for something to cling to. “Catelyn!” She looks up and finds Ned, letting her clutch at his hand desperately, and that makes her feel a little better. “Are you–?”

Lyanna groans, pausing in her rhythm as Benjen pushes in. “It's alright, Cat, you're going to be alright,” she says, her hands darting forward to play with the nub at the top of Catelyn's cunny, just above her own brother's prick, once more. “Go slow Ben, alright?”

Benjen nods, his face screwed in on itself in a look of utter concentration. He must be trying so hard to be gentle with her, she realises, because gods, how tight she must be. The thought makes her whine and buck her hips forward, and he can't help but thrust back toward her with a gasp. “Catelyn–”

“It's alright Benjen, I'm alright,” she promises him, her fingers locking tightly with Ned's.

“Oh Cat.” She turns her head and sees Brandon by her side, leaning in to clutch at her hip and kiss her neck. “My beautiful, brave wife. We're going to take care of you, don't worry, we're going to take such good care of you.”

Cat groans as Benjen becomes brave enough to try and start moving, and Lyanna resumes a bit of a rhythm as well. “I know,” she says, breathless, as she tries to return the movement. “I'm not afraid, don't worry, I can handle it. We–” she gasps as Benjen buries himself fully, just as Lyanna starts to slide out again, “–we southern ladies aren't as fragile as you'd think.”

Lyanna chuckles at that and she and Benjen agree on a rhythm, not fast, but thorough, moving slow and deep in turns making one hole feel all full and then the other, and Catelyn is gasping, shuddering against them. Lyanna's fingers still rub and flick at her nub, but not so firmly now, meaning more to tease than to push her past the brink of pleasure. The girl's already proven her point. Ned is still grasping her hand, not sure what else to do, and Cat sighs as she rocks back against the bodies surrounding her. “Ned,” she moans, and before she knows it she's guiding his hand, placing it over her breast and he starts to knead there softly, shyly. She rather regrets having not taken the dress off after all, but it's a bit late to do anything about it now. Catelyn hums in delight as Lyanna groans and Benjen gasps and they start to quicken beneath her.

“Oh, that's my girl,” laughs Brandon against her skin, sending a shiver through her veins, and his hand comes onto her other breast, squeezing the flesh and thumbing the nipple faster, rougher – not better or worse, but different. Cat suddenly feels quite spoiled, having these three young men and one young lady all here attending to her needs, but they certainly don't seem to be complaining. “Cat...” Brandon groans and Cat realises she is reaching for him, for his prick, groping him through his breeches, and really why did he bother doing those up again anyway? She only touches him lightly, teasingly, like a promise. Soon.

It is hardly fair to do that for Brandon and not do it for Ned also, though, so she reaches out with her other hand takes ahold of his prick, finding it bare and wet, and she strokes him properly, not thinking she'll have him between her legs again today. He stops and suddenly squeezes her breast tight, making her gasp and jump, which makes Benjen whine and start pushing into her fast, he can't help it anymore, and Lyanna laughs breathlessly as she tries to match him and Catelyn cries out, not in pain but pleasure, because it feels good, being shared by so many, servicing and being serviced in turn.

Benjen grunts as he thrusts into her wildly, desperately, and she knows what's coming. “Lady Catelyn – I'm going to–”

Really, he's done very well for his first time, especially with Lyanna making everything more difficult. She smiles at him. “That's quite alright,” she says, bracing herself for yet another load of seed.

Lyanna chuckles in her ear. “Come on Lady Catelyn, don't be like that,” and she presses her fingers harder against Cat, making her breath hitch. “Don't act like you're not going to like it when my baby brother fills you up with his come. I want to see you come again, you know, on the end of both our cocks. Can you do that for me, Cat?”

Cat groans aloud at Lyanna's dirty words, and really, with her hands and Brandon's and Ned's all on her, with Ned and Brandon both in her hands and Benjen and Lyanna both filling her up, Cat isn't sure she could not. It only takes a few seconds more before they have her whining and wailing, letting out some indecipherable cry as the pleasure rushes through her, she squeezes tight around Benjen's prick and lets it wash over her like the river current.

“Fuck!” Benjen's cry is a good deal more comprehensible as he comes to stop, and Catelyn can feel him releasing inside her. Suddenly there are lips on hers, and Cat doesn't understand but that's Ned, Ned is kissing her and none of them have been brave enough to do that yet, but she is kissing him back, she's kissing him while his brother spends his load inside her, and she can feel it warm and running down her legs, and she shudders and sighs into the kiss, not willing to let go just yet. She hears a groan, and realises Ned is spending also, spilling himself across her thighs and some of it lands on her bodice, but she really doesn't mind. That was probably why he kissed her, she thinks, he simply lost control.

Benjen pulls out quickly, probably too sensitive to bear the pressure anymore, and Catelyn shudders as she feels her cunt emptied once more, feeling sore and loose and damn near drowned with seed. She can feel Brandon drifting away from her, and Lyanna pushing her up off the fake prick, but it's not until she's struggling for breath and the wetness on her skin is making her feel cold in the winter air that she finally breaks the kiss with Ned. They stare at each other for a long moment, her hand still on his prick. She blushes and lets go. Then she turns to look at Brandon, wondering if he might be jealous she kissed his brother, if that's not allowed, but from the grin on his face she might be worrying for nothing.

“Come on, Cat,” he says, taking ahold of her hand and pulling her forward, inviting her to lie on her back again, which she, being basically exhausted, does eagerly. “Let's get this over with.”

Must we? Catelyn almost asks, but her back and legs ache at her as if to answer the question. Yes, we must. Even if she is enjoying it, she might pass out if she tries to take much more.

"Yeah, go on Brandon," she says as she places the object back in her pocket. "Make love to your wife."

Brandon grins as he crawls between Cat's spread legs, pressing his lips to hers roughly, but briefly, before he pulls back eager to do just that. However Cat has to do something first. "My lady." She grabs Lyanna by the shin, and the girl looks down at her, surprised. "You've done an awful lot to pleasure me, and received little in return. I feel I ought to show you some measure of gratitude."

Lyanna grins at her. "Believe me, it was no bother," she says, but Catelyn won't be fobbed off so easily.

She nods at the ground for Lyanna to kneel, and Lyanna, looking somewhat puzzled, does so. "Above me," Catelyn instructs, and then Lyanna gets it.

"Oh," she says, and grins even wider. "Well if you insist."

She swings a knee over Catelyn and settles quickly, Cat crooking her neck up to meet her. Someone makes a perturbed noise, most likely Lord Rickard, but Catelyn opts against stopping. She's come this far, hasn't she? She really has no idea what she's doing, she just tries to remember all the things Brandon has done to her, but Lyanna seems disinclined to complain as Cat starts to trace over her folds, pink and swollen, gently with her tongue, exploring what makes the girl tick – mapping the area, if you will. Lyanna groans and curses and thrusts back against her face, making Cat gasp for air – alright, perhaps she should have done this up on her hands and knees, as she did for Benjen and Brandon, for Lyanna's whole weight on top of her isn't making it any easier to breathe. Still, she can't bring herself to move now.

“Fuck,” mutters Brandon and Catelyn remembers him, wonders what he must think of this, watching his sister ride his wife's face, but then she squeals against Lyanna's cunt when he thrusts inside in one fast move, so clearly he doesn't mind. Brandon is quick with her no matter how sore and stretched she feels, but she's so sensitive that the pain and the exhaustion only seems to add to the pleasure, as does the slightest lack of air. She might be going mad. “That's my girl.”

“Our girl,” says Lyanna, lacing her fingers through Catelyn's hair, pulling her up against her tighter. “That is, if she'll have us.”

Cat can hardly answer that aloud, but she does move her tongue down to push it inside Lyanna, fucking her with it to the best of her ability, delighting in actually making the girl jump. She hopes that can't breach the girl's maidenhead, she's fairly sure it can't, although she can't help but imagine the look on Robert Baratheon's face if he learnt his bride had been defiled by another woman would be funny. Although if Lyanna is such a horsewoman, then it probably doesn't actually make much difference. “Oh fuck,” Lyanna murmurs, thrusting back against Catelyn, and Brandon laughs in delight as he pushes into her, hoisting her legs up over his shoulders, pressing kisses to the inside of her thighs as he fucks her. Catelyn can't see a thing like this with Lyanna on top of her, but it really doesn't matter; she can feel everything.

Lyanna is the first to break, moaning and twisting and squirming as Catelyn moves her tongue to lap roughly at her own little nub. “Yes, yes, just like that, fuck–” she whines as she pulls Catelyn's hair, all but begging for more, but Cat sees no reason to refuse that to her, “yes, yes, your mouth, your fucking mouth, Brandon you lucky little shit, shit–” and then she just cries out, calling out for all the gods to hear as she spasms hard against Cat's face, sounding utterly shameless. Catelyn can't help but quite admire her for it.

Brandon chuckles as Lyanna moves away, leaving Catelyn's chin wet and dripping. “You know, not a lot of people can leave our Lya speechless,” he comments, still thrusting deep.

Catelyn raises an eyebrow as Lyanna sticks her tongue out. “Not a lot of people can leave you speechless either my lord, and yet I've often found my ways,” she says, and Brandon laughs again, tilting her hips further back as he rocks deeper and harder and faster into her. Cat groans. “Now, are you actually going to spend in me, or are you going to tease me all day?”

He laughs and she gasps as one of her legs falls by the wayside, his fingers instead coming to pinch her nub and rub it hard. “Careful love,” he whispers, making her shiver beneath him, “I'm not sure you know what you're asking for.”

I know exactly what I'm asking for, and she soon gets it, crying out as she tightens around Brandon's cock, coming a third time in a mix of pain and pleasure and sheer exhaustion. “Fuck,” grunts Brandon as he buries himself inside her, his prick pulsing as he spends his seed, and that is it. Every man of the Starks has tried to get her with child, and if she does bear a babe nine moons from now, she won't ever truly know whose it is. The thought makes her shudder again.

Brandon pulls out, lacing his breeches again and Cat chooses against forcing herself to get up. She could fall asleep right here and now she reckons, although she realises it would hardly be a wise decision. Still, she feels tired. “Catelyn?” she turns her head and finds Ned by her side again, almost reaching for her hand. She smiles at him, and reaching for his instead. I'm alright, she does not need to say.

She doesn't actually get up until she hears footsteps approaching, and sees Lord Rickard, all stern and serious, coming towards her. Cat blushes, remembering herself and she sits, covering herself with her nigh-ruined skirts. Was it too much? Did she push too far? She acted like a slattern, she knows she did, but they all wanted her to enjoy it and she did – still, half the things they did couldn't possibly have gotten her with child, she wanted them simply because she did, and now Lord Rickard won't want her for his son, he'll think he's married poor Brandon to a whore.

But then, he smiles at her. “Lady Stark,” he calls her, and Cat almost gawps when she realises yes, she is Lady Stark now. “I hope my children haven't worn you out too badly? They can get a little wild.”

Cat shakes her head. “Not at all, my lord,” she says. “Nothing a hot bath and a nap won't fix. But it was–” she flushes and cuts off half-way through her sentence. “Well. It was.”

Rickard chuckles. “I'm glad you enjoyed,” he says. “I would have liked to be more use to you in truth, but I am an older man. Still, my children seemed to have it under control.”

“Can't you always count on us, Father?” asks Brandon, and Cat wonders if that means if Lord Rickard is also available for her pleasure from now on.

She's distracted from that thought by a tap on the shoulder. “Catelyn, you might want to get up soon,” says Benjen apologetically. “Before you catch your death.”

“Quite right you are,” she says, and then she tries to force herself to stand up. It doesn't quite work however; she's still so shaky, so tired, and winds up collapsing back onto the ground in an graceless heap. She laughs softly. “Though that might be easier said than done.”

Lyanna laughs also, not so softly. “Come on my lady,” she says, pulling Cat to her feet and letting her lean against her shoulder for support. “The hot springs are right around the corner, I'll get you clean and warm. Although I might want to keep an eye on you, make sure you don't fall asleep and drown. That'd be a terrible start to the marriage. Can you swim?”

Cat makes an indignant noise. “I'm from the Riverlands,” she says.

“I was only asking.”

Catelyn laughs as they start to walk away, or rather Lyanna starts to walk away and Cat just clings to her. However, after only a few steps Lyanna stops and sighs. “You know, you boys can come too if you like.”

It's almost funny the way they all scramble to their feet to join them. Ned and Benjen still walk at some distance, a little shy, but Brandon is quick to attach himself to her side. His cloak is now far too ruined to shelter her from the cold, so instead he drapes himself over her shoulder, warming her with his body.

These Northerners are strange to Catelyn. And yet, she's rapidly growing very fond of them.