“How old are you, again?” Varys tried to recall, still not sure if he fully trusted this old companion of his that he encountered in the Tower of ...he Hand.“Fourteen. Anyway, come with me, my old teacher. Have something to eat. The Hand of the Queen is expected to join us soon. This is where he takes his meals, often with myself, in fact. We can, perhaps, slip him a dose of this,” the youth offered Varys a very small vial.“What’s in it?” Varys naturally probed, as they sat down in a small, cozy. He smiles, not entirelywithout pity, watching me pumping my hips on the bed, desperately rubbingmy inner thighs against the rough canvas over his crotch, my pleading eyesfixed on my masters face. "Please... ...touch it... oh please..." Iwhisper in sweaty humiliation. We both know that even after only thisbrief time, I totally, erotically, belong to him.Mesmerised, I watch a gloved hand reach down and toy with the back of mypanties, stretched taut between my spread thighs. My master's hand. More

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