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Half-Lord

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It was time to stretch. Heke started by cracking his knuckles. He then extended his arms, the joints in his elbows letting out a satisfying pop. He rolled his neck next, then rand his hand along the back of his hair. A few flower petals fell. It didn't matter. They never helped the stench.

“Ramsay. Time for headin' back to your mum's,” he mumbled, shaking the boy asleep at his side. They'd taken a rest in the cottage of an old washer woman. She was fingerless and fucked now. Also dead. She'd noticed Ramsay for what he was, and called him on his father's eyes. Poor old bitch didn't know what she'd done. Not that Heke felt bad for his part in it, but she'd likely not felt the touch of a man in years.

Ramsay had a charm about him when he slept. He was ruddy, pudgy, and hogged the blankets. Ramsay let out a grumble and tossed over.

“Don't wanna,” he grumbled, nudging a balled fist into Heke's thigh.

“C'mon. I promised 'er.” Heke insisted, shaking Ramsay again.

Heke lay a kiss on Ramsay's forehead before yanking the mixture of pelts and cloth from him. Ramsay twisted to face him immediately, his face bent up in rage. Heke smiled, partial to his young master's lips when he pouted. Ramsay looked dead at him. His eyes had taken on the cold steely look of his father.

“Fuck off, Heke. That's an order.”

The boy sounded like him too. Heke shrugged and began to dress, pulling his tunic over his head then down his torso. All things considered, they hadn't gotten too bloody. Ramsay had taken her fingers then throttled the life out of her. They boy was right that her cunny had gone old and dried up, but her ass had proved plenty fine for Heke's cock.

Heke shimmied into his trousers, and tied his boots, giving Ramsay no mind. He'd have to dispose of the woman's body on the way back, maybe make a quick fuck of her before throwing her body in the Weeping Waters. It was flowing strong this summer, the banks running high with melted snow.

“Well, m'lord, as I've your blessing, I'll be off.”

The title wasn't true, but it made the boy happy. Heke slowly opened the front door. The coast was clear.

“Don't,” Ramsay grunted.

Heke looked back. Ramsay sat upright now.

“Yes, m'lord?”

Heke smiled at his change of heart. Ramsay hated to be alone. They both knew it well. He'd just need a bit of cajoling and a bow or two to cheer him up.

“Come here and jerk me off. I'll do yours too.”

Ramsay looked uncharacteristically shy. He looked down at the bit of flesh that hung soft between his legs then back at Heke.

“I can beg if you like,” Heke offered playfully. He returned to stand before Ramsay and waited to see what mood his little half-lord was in.

“Stay standing and thank me for letting you fuck her.”

Ramsay spread his legs a bit to better accommodate Heke, and unceremoniously lowered Heke's trousers just enough to reach his cock. It was a crowded position, but what Ramsay wanted.

“As you wish,” Heke replied.

Heke leaned forward to begin and Ramsay plopped his head against his stomach. Ramsay wasn't the most finessed with his hands, but his enthusiasm made up for it. He started by rubbing the tip of Heke's cock as he'd taught him, but moved to the shaft at the first sign the organ had begun to stiffen with blood.

Heke's wrist bent uncomfortably to reach Ramsay's penis. His belly and thighs began to appealingly flush as Ramsay grew excited. Heke had come to enjoy kissing and biting Ramsay there, satisfied by the way the soft flesh felt beneath his teeth.

“M'lord, it's a bit crowded like this.”

Ramsay squeezed Heke's cock noticeably.

“That's not a thank you, Heke.”

Heke rolled his eyes, but assented.

“Thank you for letting my fuck that old bitch in her ass, my little lord,” he sighed. Ramsay's touch felt good, but he'd probably not come from this.

“You're very welcome, Heke,” Ramsay replied his voice sweet and coy. His hips wriggled a bit. The boy was probably looking to get fucked, but too stubborn to say so. He'd look sweet on his stomach, his plump ass and thighs ripe to be squeezed and fucked. His father would say it was his bastard blood that give him a man's appetites.

“You don't get to come unless I say so. Got it?”

“Yes, love,” Heke answered.

“Now put your hands to your side and lower your trousers more for me,” Ramsay cooed. He placed his hands on his knees and watched Heke, licking his lips.

Unlike his hands, Ramsay was very good with his mouth. He seemed as hungry for seed as he was for bread and meat, slurping and gobbling like the boy was half starved. Heke obliged happily.

Ramsay began with a series of kisses to his thighs, then dragged his tongue along the underside of Heke's cock. A throb of pleasure made his cock and balls feel temporarily heavy with pleasure, but the feeling was relieved as Ramsay closed his lips around Heke's tip then lowered himself further down the shaft.

His assignment as Ramsay's servant was meant as a punishment for him and the boy's mother alike, but it certainly had it's benefits. He knew Lord Bolton knew of the occasional vanished low born woman, but he wondered if he suspected the two of them took turns fucking each other. Would he be more bothered by Heke fucking Ramsay or Ramsay fucking Heke? Most likely he wouldn't show much of a reaction either way.

Heke balled his fists. He would have liked to hold Ramsay's head or tug his hair. Ramsay knew this of course. The annoyance was far worth the pleasure of his lips though. The walls of his mouth were snug and slick around the length of him, while the boy's tongue applied pressure. Occasionally, Ramsay would lower himself enough that Heke would feel the boy's throat flex.

“Her ass was nice, m'lord, but your mouth is better than any woman you've given me. Living or dead.”

Ramsay hummed and plunged himself deeper again. He knew what the boy liked to here, and it was true. He might nudge the boy in certain directions, but he wouldn't lie to him. Ramsay was his keeper now, for better or worse.

“I'm happy as your servant. I'll never leave you. Someday I'll take you to meet your frigid old man and faggot half-brother, and they'll have to see how happy I've made you.”

Speaking his affections plainly always brought him closer to climax. He'd made Ramsay his. The boy didn't want a life without him. How wonderful it was to possess such a meaty boy as both master and plaything. He'd lived wickedly and idly, and the Old Gods still saw to reward him.

Ramsay swallowed Heke's seed as he came, then pulled back to look up at him. He smiled and tapped Heke on the thigh.

“Thank you, m'lord,” Heke sighed.

“You're very welcome. Ready yourself to dump the hag and return to my mother's.”

“Said like a Bolton,” Heke replied, reaching for his trousers.

“There's no like about it, Heke.”

Ramsay stood from the bed, and stretched his arms overhead.

“I'm sure my father will come around to it someday.”