His mother silences him by grabbing his hair and planting her mouth firmly on him, kissing him deeply, and her son responds by shoving his tongue into her mouth. Her toes curl in continual pleasure as she shakes in climax. Robb, overwhelmed by pleasure, tensed entirely, and swims in his thoughts, trying in vain to delay his orgasm.
Robb’s mind flashes back to everything Theon had said about sex, and realized that, without a doubt, Catelyn’s cunt doubled everything he ever said and bragged about fucking the whores of the castle. He growls wolfishly as his climax washes over him, gushing his hot seed deep into the needy depths of his mother’s burning, soaked, trembling cunt. Catelyn pants rhythmicly into her son’s mouth and whimpers in inconceivable pleasure. As the pair shudders and lingers in their mutual bliss, a gentle knock at the door and a creek drive them into a frantic frenzy.
Robb jerks back from his mother and stuffs his wet cock into his pants, while Catelyn grabs her nearby robe and slips into it. It seems only fortuitous luck that the person opening the door did not throw it open, and took their time in their task. Master Luwin stood in the open door, expression blank on his face as his eyes bore into Robb, “Robb, the library tower…it is in flames.”
Robb ran to the window to check, then swore and said, “Luwin, lets get some water bucket trains and start to do what we can to stop it!” The teen lingered his eyes on Catelyn’s eyes, before need drives him out the door into the hall. Maester Luwin paused a moment in the doorway before departing, a lingering and knowing smile playing over his mouth as he looked at Catelyn, before following Robb out the door.
Catelyn Stark sighed heavily, her body still suffering little trembles and shakes. The Lady of Winterfell crossed the room to Bran’s bedside, clad only in a haphazard robe that requires one of her hands to hold shut. Her mind wandered to the carnal pleasure that was just had. It had been so long since she had a lover who wasn’t Eddard. Catelyn’s mind flashed briefly to that night, on her name day decades ago. The feel of Lysa’s feminine breath, Brynden’s rough, course hands, and the gaze of her father Hoster as he watched…
Pulling her thoughts back to the present, she rests her hand on her second son Bran’s shoulder and sadly smiled at her unconscious boy, before leaning over and kissing his forehead. She murmurs to his forehead, almost so lost in thought that she didn’t hear the door, “Perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising that it happened.”
The door creaks open and Catelyn’s eyes linger on her son for a moment longer, before lifting to greet the newcomer. She pauses entirely at the rough, dirty, rag-clad man in the doorway. A blade flashed in his hand and he mumbles unhappily as he crossed the room to Bran, “You weren’t supposed to be here. No one was supposed to be here.”
Her scream of surprise turned to a scream of terror as the dagger plunged at her throat, only halted by her hands releasing her robe – revealing her nude body – and wrapping around the blade, causing deep slices to her palms but at least halting the dagger’s deadly path. The catspaw paused entirely as his eyes drifted down Catelyn’s revealed body. Using this distraction to her advantage, Catelyn shoved the man back, leaving bloody handprints on his shirt and running for the window to call for help.
The Lady of Winterfell doesn’t get more than two steps as the strong hand of the catspaw wrapped around her elbow and dragged her screaming to the bed. A brief but ineffective struggle later, the naked Catelyn found herself bent prone over the bed – and over her unconscious son Brandon Stark. The catspaw snarls, “You weren’t supposed to be here…but I am glad you are,” as he kicks the Lady of Winterfell’s legs open, revealing her cunt that is leaking her own son’s seed down her pale thighs.
Catelyn’s eyes stare at Brandon’s face and she begins to sob. Her struggles to lift herself from Brandon are undone with no effort as the catspaw shoves her back down, her breasts smashing against the young Stark’s chest. Catelyn parts her lips in an attempt to bargain with the man, but her words are instantly lost and her eyes pop open wider as the man unceremoniously shoves his hard, engorged cock into her vulnerable cunt.
Tears freely flow down Catelyn Stark’s cheeks as the common catspaw – a beggar, a vagrant, someone far beneath her station – violently rapes her on top of her unconscious son. Unlike the recent, tender lovemaking between her and Robb, the catspaw held nothing back, ruthlessly and mercilessly shoving and piercing her cunt with every single thrust deep into her body. In complete surprise to herself, her cunt walls trembled and another orgasm shudders through her body.
The catspaw quickly tenses and groans as he fills Catelyn’s cunt with messy, leaking cum. With a fearful look Catelyn looks over her shoulder and barely sees the shadow enter the room that corner of her vision. There was a low rumble, a barely growled threat, and the wolf was upon him. The man’s scream lasted barely a second, before the direwolf wrenched back his head, and tore out half the man’s throat.
Catelyn slumped to the ground on her knees, sobbing, as the direwolf laid down peacefully on the bed next to Bran. The wolf was looking at her, jaws crimson and dripping. It’s eyes glowed yellow in the darkness, and she whispers to it, “Thank you.”
She began to laugh hysterically after, and that was how they found her minutes later, when Robb and Luwin and half the guardsmen in Winterfell burst into the room. As Robb helped her out of the room Catelyn’s thoughts kept wandering back to the trembling orgasm that the catspaw had given her during her rape.