TW: I watched Game of Thrones on HBO. I have not read the books but I am a freaky ass bitch and it was a good show but all I could think about was fucking these fascinating characters. So, this is just a fan fic I wrote about doing so. I’m starting with the Hound cause (Rory McCann can get this pussy)

“Which one?” Little Finger inquired. He folded his arms as he scanned the Hound’s fierce stance. Sandor looked over a lot of women that stood before him. Most kept their heads down to avoid his gaze, except the small one, who sat on the bench, absent from the rest. Sandor was amazed how she openly watched him with a disgusted expression, her arms folded in hostility.

Not her, he wondered.

Even though she was ballsy enough to be unafraid, he didn’t like how her feet dangled off the bench. She should have done what the others did and not looked in his direction. Sandor didn’t care what they looked like anyhow; all he needed was a warm hole so he could get back to the task.

Sandor glanced at the impatient Baelish, then grabbed the fragile arm of a red-headed whore.

“No, please!” She gulped, looking at the lessor in fear.

Sandor pardoned her arm, wishing the meddlesome man would pluck him one.

“My apologies, your reputation has complexions,” Little Finger snickered.

Sandor scowled and snorted at his comment. It wasn’t his status that scared the women so. No, it was his face and the one who gave him the scar that frightened these whores and all other varieties of women.

“I’ll just take that one.”

Sandor gave a gruesome smirk at the short yellow-haired woman who had yet to look away. Her breasts sat high in the dreary dress; Sandor stood stiff, scrutinizing her small curves as she dropped from the seat.

Melly gave the scarred man a sudden phony smile. Glancing up at his face, she dropped her grin, and with confidence, she scanned his physique as if they were in the fog of combat.

Little Finger began to protest, “A wonderful option, although might I add this one is slightly stubborn; she’s chaste. However, any of the others would be a better choice.”

With a smirk, Melly looked the Hound in both eyes.

Sandor scoffed, not believing any of them to be fresh. Although false, that smile made his cock grow; noticing two dimples on her cheeks.

“I’ll take her.” Sandor did not have to grab the girl; she huffed and sauntered past him. He stood for a moment staring at her plain clothes as she walked toward the back. He adjusted himself before following her lead

“Melly, don’t!” The red-headed whore shouted.

Melly broke her tread to look at them both, then stared at her future customer, puzzled.

“Go on,” Sandor said, touching her shoulder gently to move ahead.

His gaze turned sullen as Melly pulled back instinctively, giving him a dark look.

Little Finger gave her a grim glance before stepping forward, “My apologies, Clegane.” He didn’t want to lose another girl to a Clegane brother.

“I have a dark-haired beauty, very talented. I also have another foreign whore who will be out soon if you would like to wait, free of charge, of course.”

Lord Baelish smiled at Melly, giving her hope. Perhaps she would not be in a room deserted with this oddity.

Sandor declined, preferring the girl’s temperament over the rest of the frightened women. “You’ve got your coin.”

As they entered the lavish room, Melly went straight to the foundation; on all fours, she brought her tan dress up around her hips. When the Hound didn’t attempt to enter her immediately, she peeked around at him.

“Turn around, girl. You won’t have to look at me forever.”

Melly circled on her back, taking a deep breath and placing her arms across her chest.

Sandor sighed, “Stop that. I’m not going to fucking butcher you.”

Melly brought her arms to her side.

Sandor spent a few moments taking in her beauty, figuring she would take her dress off at least. Her pretty brown eyes now looked raven in the dim room, but he hated that her hair was blonde like the Queen’s. The two dimples pierced her cheeks when she smiled and were gone as she held a stoic expression toward the ceiling. Sandor wondered about ordering her to smile and remove the drabby clothing, but he had wasted enough of his off time as it was.

Melly groaned impatiently as her eyes moved from the ceiling to stare at him.

Sandor’s brow arched, “What?”

Melly chuckled at his indecisiveness, “Are you shy, or is this your first time?”

He frowned at her mock and yanked her legs roughly toward him, “Shut up, or I will butcher you.”

Melly couldn’t hold back a giggle at the fast action.

“Stop laughing at me; I’ve chopped a whore into pieces for less,” Sandor warned.

Melly continued her giggles, “I’m not laughing at you. It tickles.”

Sandor wiped his brow as he struggled to enter her dry cunt; this was indeed the worst whore he had ever had. His dick became limp as he followed his eyes to the spot on the ceiling she stared at.

Sandor grunted, “The fuck is up there?”

Melly looked at him oddly as if he should be quiet.

Sandor was cursing himself for picking one who couldn’t take dick, flipping his manhood to cooperate with him. Full of frustration, he spat on his dick to moisten it, rubbing it back and forth till it swelled to an incredible size.

Her eyes shot up at the barbaric act, her face twisting in disgust at his gigantic penis.

“I’m not a fairy tale Knight, and you’re not a very good whore,” he ridiculed.

She chuckled nervously at the insult, knowing it to be true. It wasn’t her first day at the brothel; not including the few slaps she’d received from her other patrons; no one had touched her. His dick now moist, he entered her again, holding half in his hand; he used half of his cock inside her. Maybe she was fresh, he’d never had a maiden whore before, and he didn’t care. He liked that she didn’t look at him as he fucked her, clearing his mind of the insecurities he felt. Her face was gorgeous enough to make his heart quicken. Even though Little Finger’s whores were all gorgeous, most were too afraid for him to enjoy it. Finishing up, he gave a low grunt before he could get her to loosen up.

When Melly’s eyes finally met his, he gave her a stern nod, and she was out of the room before he could get his dick back in his trousers.

He returned weeks later, strolling straight toward Melly, who was standing away from the others. Disregarding her cold stare, he clasped his hand around her arm.

Melly struggled to remove her arm from his grip, “Get th–“

“Clegane,” Little Finger interrupted.

“What!” His fierce growl caused Melly almost to cringe, but she kept her eyes on the fearful Lord Baelish.

Sandor never cared for the stuck-up brothel owner, but he waited for his response.

“Maybe try another this time; we have new women who are very sensual ladies.”

Little Finger placed a hand on Melly’s shoulder, attempting to pull her away. Melly glanced between the two men, then smirked at the deformed man. The Lord had told her earlier that day that she would no longer serve men, securing her a different position in his brothel.

“Do you want my coin or not?” he asked, tossing him the small silver medallions.

He gave him another quick scowl before taking her hand and walking her toward the back.

Melly whispered curses at the coward as she followed the Hound.

“Fucking cunt,” Sandor commented as they walked.

She giggled at his insult toward the lord, “He’s a fucking liar too,” she complained.

“Shut up!”

“You shut up,”

Melly wasn’t used to being sheepish; a few patrons had put her in her place for her fowl tongue. Growing up with seven brothers had made her challenging and used to violent men. Even though she was so small, her brothers were taller and bulkier than the beast she had to entertain. His voice was not as harsh, instead full of annoyance at the whore, “Don’t speak to me like that.”

“What will you do? Fuck me?” Melly snickered.

He paused at her retort, shoving her before him to walk into the room.

As before, she got on all fours on the bed, lifting her skirt. The Hound wasted no time trying to enter her, Even though she was not wet. He removed his gloves, spit in his palm, and wandered around her cunt lips.

The feeling caused Melly to squirm around. It was a pleasurable feeling coming from his calloused fingers.

Melly jumped, turning around quickly, “Don’t do that. Just stick it in.”

“Last time, you were silent. Let’s keep it that way,” he groaned, gently moving her to the edge of the tall bed.

The Hound pushed her back down into a curve as he moved his fingers around. She gave a low grunt in response.

He began to loosen her up with his middle finger slowly; even though her back remained stiff, he pushed deeper inside.

His cock was throbbing, and his voice was raspy, “Turn around.”

When she turned around, her eyes were red, and her tear-stained face kept the same stoic expression.

Sandor’s heart sank; he sighed as he sat on the bed. It wasn’t the first time a whore had cried over having to fuck him. He looked elsewhere, around the room, as she continued rubbing her eyes. Not sure what to say, he wasn’t gonna apologize, he paid his money for her, and she should have chosen a different profession.

His eyes widened as she got up from the bed, “Where are you going?”

Sandor was worried the girl would leave to tell Little Finger and the rest of the whores he had harmed her. His face was enough to keep the whores at a distance. His palms became sweaty as she knelt beside him on the floor. Dark eyes looked up at him and gave him the sweetest smile he had ever seen.

At a loss for words, he wanted to tell her she didn’t have to as if forgetting that quickly she was only a whore. A gorgeous whore in rags that was seducing him to relaxation.

Melly had cried before; she couldn’t be happier with how understanding he was. The last man had slapped her face for much less than tears. She held her breath, kissing up and down his length. He released a heavy sigh. Keeping her sights on his giant cock, she smiled as she stroked his cock at moderate speed. Her eyes wandered up toward his hard armored abdomen and chest. When she finally settled on his face and his now softer features, he then spilled his seed into her tiny hand. Melly giggled at the thick cream running down her wrists.

“I’m a good whore,” she smirked

Sandor’s loud voice sent her frowning, “Most whores don’t fucking laugh at a man in his weakest moment.”

“That’s what makes it funny.”

Melly smiled and giggled before taking her exit.

Sandor had never asked a woman to put her mouth on him; they had never volunteered. It was her job to please men; he was no different, he wondered. It didn’t stop him from feeling thrilled at having been pleasured in such a way.

When he returned to the whorehouse weeks later, he hoped the girl was ready to use her body correctly. When he did not see her, he went toward the barroom, ordering wine. His heart leaped at noticing her with a broom sweeping the floor.

“Girl!” Sandor shouted.

She hadn’t been the best whore, but he liked that she looked at him without fear. The best part was not dealing with the fake moans and courtesies that came with the others. He hoped someone had loosened her up enough that she could take his dick without crying

Melly smirked as she walked toward him.

“My name is Melly, and I’m busy,” she gave him a broad, fake smile, pointing to the broom.

He stood up from the stool, towering over the whore; she matched his stare with her hand on her hip. He had to admit he found her charming.

“Lord Baelish has moved her to cleaning duties,” the boyish barkeep informed, interrupting the pair’s staring contest.

Sandor stared at her arrogant face a few moments before looking at the barkeep.

“This is the one I’m paying for; she can sweep when I’m done,”

He insisted.

Sandor hated seeing her dimples disappear. Nonetheless, he eyed her lustfully, clasping her small hand in his.

The barkeep knew better than to argue with the Hound.

“Do as the man says,” he told her sternly.

“Fucking coward!” Melly swore, scowling at the frightened boy.

The Hound chuckled, embarrassing the boy even more.

“Come on, Girl,” he taunted.

She followed his lead as she turned her nose at the spineless barkeep. He only gave her a pitiful glance, picking the coin up from the table.

As before, she got on all fours before him, only lifting her dress to expose her privates.

“Come on, turn around so you can see my pretty face,” he said, grabbing her waist as he flipped her over.

He didn’t appreciate her difficulty and sent her a cruel look as a laugh escaped her rosy lips.

“It tickles,”

“Stop laughing and take that ugly dress off,” he sneered.

Melly signed in frustration at the request yet got up from the bed. Hastily and lacking seduction, she removed her dress.

Her smile broadened as his face turned down. Grapefruit-sized breasts were big for her tiny body, and one nipple grew erect in the cool room. The other nipple was gone, and a mangled scar covered one breast to her belly button. Taken back by the spot, he stared at the woman, his brow furrowed.

“Should I put it back on?” Melly chuckled nervously.

Indeed, he could not be upset; his face was far too deformed to judge her for her flaws. Melly could see compassion in his eyes; she didn’t want him to feel sorry for her.

“You still want to fuck me, or can I go?”

After a long uncomfortable silence, he took a deep swallow of wine, shaking his head. He reached out to stroke the tattered flesh. Melly cringed at his touch; he had never wanted to touch her.

“You are beautiful.”

His words were perplexing but caused her heart to pound. Melly clenched his armored arms as he ran his fingers up and down the scar holding the skin with the other.

“Does it hurt?”

Melly frowned, “Does that hurt?” She bitterly questioned, glaring at his mottled face.

He jerked away, withering at her harsh reminder that he was an oddity.

“Turn back around; if I wanted to see that shit, I would look in the mirror,” he barked.

She chuckled at his insult, circling on all fours as Sandor gently placed his hand on her waist to arch her back. He rubbed the head of his dick on her lips before entering her gently.

He gave her slow strokes, expecting silence from the girl; instead, she produced a few moans as she gripped the sheets with her tiny hands. His disbelief in her being satisfied did not stop him from coming quickly.

“You’re getting better,” he commented.

“I’m not a very good whore, remember,” she shot back.

He reached down to pick up her dress and handed it to her as he sat on the bed.

“Is that why you were sweeping?”

“They don’t like my scar, so I’m a cleaner, not a whore anymore,” she explained, slipping back into her dress.

He hadn’t noticed the bruise in the dark bar, but now he could see a hint of blueish tint on her chin. He reached to touch it. Melly didn’t wince but swatted his hand away before he could rub her face.

His expression turned sour. “Where’d you get that?”

“I work in a brothel,” she whispered.

“Which one did it?”

Melly shook her head, glaring at him, “What do you care? I’m going back to sweeping the parlor.”

“They can beat you black and blue for all I care; I got what I wanted, here.”

He clutched her shoulder, placing two coins in her hand.

“You’ve already paid,” she muttered, handing him back the coins.

He was staring at her as she walked out the door; he laughed; she was an awful whore if she didn’t want more money.

Sandor stayed away from the brothel for a few weeks. When he did return, he didn’t speak to anyone in the parlor. He ordered ale as he watched Melly wipe down each barroom table. The room was dim and quiet even though the sun shone radiant outside

Not many patrons remained around, there was a vast option of whores waiting in the parlor, but he wanted her. She was simple and quick, even if she came with a temperament. He was surprised when another woman came up to him. She must have been new, he thought. The slim dark haired whore rubbed his armored shoulders, yet Melly’s activities were what his sights stayed on. He sighed as the whore tried to make conversation with him.

“What’d you say to that handsome? The whore purred.

Annoyed at her chattering and lies, he snatched the woman’s arm roughly. She let out a small screech as he dragged her over toward Melly. The whore plunged dramatically when he released his hold. He quickly plucked the rag out of Melly’s hand.

He heaved the rag at the other woman, gently pulling Melly toward a private room.

Once in the room, Melly wasted no time getting her clothes off.

“Be quick. I have to finish my cleaning,” Melly complained.

“I may be all night,” the Hound barked.

He heard her mumble something under her breath. She quieted, standing naked in front of him; she kept her eyes on his armored chest.

“You should be ashamed of scaring that woman,” Melly cackled.

He shook his head, “Will you shut up.”

He began by rubbing her breast, causing her nipple to become erect. The burnt breast was missing a nipple, yet he rubbed it anyway; Melly couldn’t help but giggle at the act causing him to stop and stare at her. Her face was like night and day. When she smiled, and when she scowled, both seemed so different yet so incredibly attractive to Sandor.

Melly held her laugh, walking past him to lay on the bed, her legs wide. Once completely inside her, he groaned low. It had been too long since his last visit, and he had missed the feel of a woman, this woman. He moved slowly at first, rubbing her legs; going more profound, he produced a loud grunt from her.

“It hurts?” he asked.

Her mouth dropped open as she nodded.

Sandor nodded back, slowing his pace; he could feel her relax as she loosed up; the creaminess between her legs made his mouth drop in satisfaction. He held back a moan, but the way her cunt felt was driving him insane, wanting so badly to lift her and fuck her harder.

His pulse accelerated as a soft moan escaped her lips; he thought if it was real. He wondered it could be since she was no longer looking up; she was looking at him.

“You like it?” he rasped, maintaining his thick strokes.

Melly giggled and positioned a finger on her lips as a reminder that she was to be quiet. Even though the way he was moving in and out felt good, she focused her eyes back on the ceiling. The stretching feeling warmed her, and she fought the urge to grab him.

It was becoming too hard to hold back as the Hound kept his pace. He let his body fall onto hers, keeping his head down to kiss her breasts. Their eyes met as Melly watched his tongue dance around her nipple; carrying another moan of pleasure, he lost his battle.

“You liked it,” she smiled.

He bobbed his head, keeping his face buried in her chest.

She groaned at the weight of him,

“You mm…”

He was at a loss for words as he rolled off of her.

Melly jumped up to get her dress back on. The Hound took another deep breath as he watched her slip into the drabby dress. She was the worst whore, but that was the best sex he had ever had. He had never kissed a woman anywhere before; he felt a bit cheerful.

“You must have liked it; you don’t want your coin.”

“You pay Lo–“

“I didn’t pay him,” he mumbled.

Sandor took several gulps of wine, striving to replace his loss of strength.

Melly seemed uncomfortable as she went to him to collect her dues. She hesitated, eyeing him, perplexed for offering her too much money.

“I want more.”

“I want some wine,” she confessed.

The Hound handed her the almost bare skin, scrutinizing her pink lips as she drank.

Melly smirked, handing him back the skin and the two coins.