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“Mmm, you just made a huge mistake, boy.”
Viserys, in his state of up-jumped self-righteousness, was not fazed by Khal Drogo’s words. At the same time, he knew he probably should have been, considering he had just threatened the Khaleesi with a sword.
“The- the only huge mistake here was that you believed you would ever usurp me as the conqueror of Westeros! You ought to know your place, heathen!” Viserys spouted carelessly.
Drogo stepped forth to Viserys, while Daenerys watched intensely. Jorah instinctively got near Daenerys, to shield her in case there was to be a fight. However, Daenerys was no stranger to violence, and actually moved closer to Drogo as he challenged Viserys.
“I know exactly what to do with you. You want a crown you say?” Drogo growled in Dothraki. Viserys began tensing up more, regretting his move with each passing second. Suddenly, two Dothraki bloodriders snatched Viserys’ arms and forced him onto the ground, while Drogo began melting gold coins in a pot over a fire.
Daenerys knew what her khal would do. However, she had her own idea on how deal with her belligerent brother. She left Jorah’s side and went over to Drogo, whispering into his ear.
‘What is she doing?’ Jorah wondered. Daenerys and Drogo quietly talked back and forth for a minute as Viserys began sweating like Shae in a church. When Dany and her khal finished speaking, Drogo went over to the nervous Viserys and eyed him up and down. “Strip him” Drogo ordered his bloodriders.
“No, no, what are you doing?!” the worried Targaryen man uttered as his clothes were suddenly being cut off from him. As this happened, Daenerys handed Drogo one of her dresses, a bright purple silk gown, with lace and flower patterns on it. Drogo went back over to the now-naked and barefoot Viserys and held the gown before him. Viserys was mostly concerned with hiding his privates from everyone but also eyed the garment in anxious curiosity.
“Instead of a crown for a king…” Drogo spoke lowly. “I have a dress- for a princess.”
“W-w-what?” Viserys muttered.
Drogo leaned down close to Viserys’ face. “Tonight, you are going to be my khaleesi.”
Daenerys moved some strands of her silver-blonde hair away from her face and watched Viserys’ expression go from worried to outright horrified. He began struggling more, but soon the bloodriders were knocking the wind out of him, punching him in the stomach and ribs, then hitting him in the face. He stopped struggling and began cowering on the ground, begging for it to stop. The bloodriders grabbed his arms again and held him up so he was now standing.
“Now, put this on.” the khal ordered him. Viserys looked at the dress in horror. He didn’t want to wear it but he had no other choice if he wanted to live. Ashamed, embarrassed, and traumatized, Viserys reluctantly slipped the gown on, somewhat relieved that his privates were now covered. With his cheeks burning red with shame, he stood wearing the dress in front of everyone in attendance. It was tight and small for him, making him look even more silly since his shoulders stretched the sleeves out and the skirt only came down to several inches from the ground.
“Now…” Drogo said in his deep and growling voice. He then pushed Viserys to the ground, quickly hopping on top of the unfortunate Targaryen man before he could get back up.
“NO, NO PLEASE NOO-OOOOO!!!” Viserys cried as Drogo lifted up the dress skirt and began unbuckling his pants. Jorah watched in complete surprise, having never seen a situation such as this. Daenerys, however, was almost unemotional as she saw what was happening. Even though Viserys was her own brother and the last known male heir to House Targaryen, he was an arrogant jackass to her almost all her life, and now he was finally getting what he deserved.
Viserys, his face streaked with dirt, blood, and tears, stared up to his sister. “Dany, please. Please.” he muttered, his expression conveying nothing but defeat, fear, and embarrassment. “I beg you, Dany. Please, I’m sorry.”
Daenerys blinked as she shifted her view from Viserys down to the ground. She thought a moment, considering her brother’s state. He didn’t really deserve this, did he? Or did he?
Daenerys made up her mind. “Go on, my khal. Make him hurt.” she said to Drogo.
Within moments, Drogo began savagely tearing up Viserys’ asshole with his big Dothraki cock. Viserys was now a moaning, drooling mess as he was dominated by the mighty khal. Daenerys, Jorah, and everyone else there witnessed in disturbed awe as Viserys painfully took it like a bitch, with Drogo mercilessly fucking him from behind and even enjoying doing so, despite the fact that he was doing this to a man. Daenerys saw Viserys’ face contort into an expression of pain and agony. It immediately made her recall the brutal moment when she herself was first taken by Drogo. For Daenerys, to see the man responsible for her being sold off to and violently deflowered by a psychopathic warlord, himself be forced to wear a beautiful dress and be violated by the same warlord, was rather satisfying.
As soon as the khal had finished, Viserys slumped over onto the ground, his mouth hanging open, his platinum blonde hair matted, his face wet with tears and saliva. The skirt of the dress fell back over his behind, the garment settled around his body, and he lay on his side as a violated woman would, his cries of pain and confusion permeating the tent. Drogo stood up and got his pants back on. Daenerys looked at her beaten brother as she walked over and knelt over him.
She placed her hand on Viserys’ trembling head, and she looked right into his twitching eyes, and he pathetically looked back to her. While Daenerys’s face was calm and indifferent, Viserys’ expression was that of horror and humiliation. Daenerys finally spoke to him.
“Now… now you know how it feels.” she whispered.