Finally, after passing a few doors and corridors, he was brought to a room guarded by two of those bald eunuches. But these two were each behemoths, almost a whole head taller than him. They guarded the twin doors with their bodies and spears in hand, making a cross so none could enter.
"Bless you both, my sons," Bronn said warmly and showered some of that bullshit light magic on them. Even their stoic faces changed to curious reverence.
The servant didn't even have to say anything. The two guards moved their spears and stepped aside, even going a step further and opening the twin doors for him. The servant didn't follow him inside.
As soon as he walked in, the doors were closed behind him.
He looked around at the opulent hall that was a mix of seating and bedding, paintings on the wall, beautiful carpets on the floor, and so much more. The hall exuded wealth, and amidst all that was Bellegere Otherys, seated alone on the large settee in the middle.
Seven fucking Maiden's succulent tits!
Calling her beautiful was an understatement. What a sight, all the candles in that hall felt brighter with her in view. She looked young, perhaps the same age as him, if not a few years younger. Her hair was dark as coal with faint curls, perfectly combed, some locks falling from her temples, golden chains decorating them. Her face was carved, with sharp cheekbones, succulent, plump lips, and big, curious eyes.
Her skin was pale brown, but he kept looking down at the gorgeous goddess. The off-the-shoulder light golden gown was thin, almost see-through, tight on her full breasts at half-mast, leaving the slope and the top of her cleavage for him to feast on.
She was seated, but he already knew her body was a work of art, curvaceous. And now, he couldn't wait to hear her voice.
Bronn waited for the woman to get up and greet him. But she didn't even flinch and just stared at him. He kept his eye locked up with hers, admiring them actually.
"You…" she spoke at last.
Ah, serene as well.
Her voice wasn't sharp or high-pitched, just a perfect smooth melody, a bit throaty and still charmingly feminine. It made sense why she was so sought after.
"Do the tales paint me fairer?" he asked back, guessing her intent. "Aye, I look plain, my lady. I suppose the Seven set me so my face sways none, though my gentle sermons yet could."
Bellegere smiled, and what a smile it was. She had perfect pearl-white teeth. Her eyes narrowed when she beamed. "Oh no, Your Holiness… I would never dream of disrespecting you, my radiant one."
Ah, my cock's swollen already.
Bronn found her voice enchanting; the way her accent added spice to it captivated him. And right then and there, he knew he wanted this one. It would be a fine collection for his order of septas.
And it'd also make him a legend amongst septons. Being the man who turned a whore into a septa. A whore as rich and famous as Bellegere.
Nodding, he eased down beside her, savoring the drift of her fine perfumes. "I heard the Black Pearl of Braavos seeks my healing. This willing servant of the Seven offers hands to guide your rest."
And a fat, juicy cock.
"I-I… I'm not ailed, Your Holiness. But I do seek your aid… but I'm not ailed. I have heard so much of you. How you broke the tyranny of those vile Ironborn. How you healed the Sealord and helped him sire an heir."
"Aye, I did." Bronn nodded, easing back. "All because of the gifts and blessings the Mother and the Maiden have bestowed me."
Bellegere pursed her lips, her hands clasping and rubbing together as if nerves danced beneath her skin. She glanced at him with hopeful warmth. "I… I have done well in my craft. Yet when I walk the streets of Braavos, they laugh behind me. Brown Pearl, they call me. I never had any say in how I came into this world."
Huh? Father's saggy tits, she wants me to change her skin?
"My lady." He laid a hand on her lap. Oh, how soft and warm it was. It took everything not to squeeze. "By the Seven, trust my word. You stand among the finest women these eyes have beheld, and they have beheld plenty. Pay no mind to idle tongues."
"This cannot continue. My mother wore the name Black Pearl, and my grandmother did as well. I... I failed them, yet I refuse to let my daughter do the same… I have heard whispers of you, Your Holiness. They say you grant children, heirs shaped after the father. I want my heir, my daughter, a lovely babe with skin dark as ink."
That was it. If Bronn's cock was swollen before, now it was ready to burst. This gorgeous woman, a beauty for whom noble houses would wage all-out battles, wanted him to breed her? She didn't even have to ask.
But of course, Bronn was not a novice in that game. What she sought from him was a favor, a mercy, a blessing. And they don't come without a price.
"You wish for me to bless you with a daughter?" He asked, just to be certain.
Bellegere turned on her knees toward him and lifted his hand from her lap, holding it between her palms. Her eager eyes shone with hope. "That is what I seek, Your Holiness. I… I could try the usual way. But the fault lies in my own flesh. Even with a man I might desire, my child could still look like me. With you, I would be certain."
She was right about that. He could give her a daughter just as she wanted.
"I hear you well, Lady Otherys. Yet you should heed my troubles in turn. Were it naught but a wound or an old scar, I would mend it before the next breath. But what you ask is touched by the Maiden herself, a blessing I must set within you by my own touch. Flesh must meet flesh for such grace, and only with one sworn to the Seven. You look instead to the gods of Braavos."
Bellegere frowned, shaking her head. "I… I'll take the Faith of the Seven. I'll pray to the Maiden forever."
Hah! That easy?
Bronn nodded and thought deeply about it. "Wonderful. Then let us begin the ritual. It will span three months, and each day we must tend to it. It shall be a prayer to the Maiden to receive you kindly, and grant the heir you seek."
Bronn was almost salivating with the thought of it.
I'll feast for months. Seven cunts! You'll be my mumbling, drooling, cock-worshipping septa by the end.
Usually, Bronn followed the seven days of gradual corruption. But that was for noble women. Bellegere was no stranger to sex and nudity. Besides, Bronn wanted to shove his cock in her quickly and relish that warmth. He didn't want to accept it, but doing Unella and Malora every single day was getting boring. He'd been at it for too long.
Bellegere clapped excitedly and rose to her feet. "How shall we begin, Your Holiness?"
Bronn thought for a quick moment and smiled, hiding the wickedness. "Stand before me and disrobe, my lady, so that the Maiden may behold your form and grant your heir fairer blessing. Be gentle and slow, and call me Bronn from this moment, in private where only the Seven witness."
"I-I understand, yo—Bronn."
It appeared Bellegere wasn't used to such commands. Of course, she wasn't. She was the finest courtesan in Braavos. The men who chased her drooled for her attention, her giggles, and her affection. She held the reins, but that wasn't the case with Bronn. For the first time, Bellegere had to; needed to obey.
She was the Black Pearl, the woman who made princes beg; yet here she stood, cheeks warming, fingers trembling as they found the golden edges of her gown. Slowly, she eased the thin fabric off her smooth shoulders, letting it slip down her arms. The sleeves caught at her elbows for a heartbeat, then fell away, baring the tempting line of her collarbones and the soft rise of her chest.
Bronn's breath snagged in his throat. Gods be good, she's a fucking vision!
The gown clung to the swell of her breasts a moment longer before she coaxed it lower, peeling it down inch by inch. The fabric dragged over her nipples, making them tighten into stiff, dark peaks before the silk finally surrendered. Her breasts spilled free. Heavy, perfectly round, her pale-brown skin flawless. They swayed with the motion, full enough to overflow any man's hands, soft enough to make a septon forget every vow.
She lifted her gaze to his and found Bronn staring at the tits now offered up like sacred gifts.
Oh, Seven's mercy, they were gorgeous. Perfect globes with not a whisper of sag, big enough to smother a man dead and leave him smiling. Brown areolas drawn tight, nipples jutting like ripe berries waiting to be rolled between teeth and tongue.
"O Maiden, you showed mercy, shaping this woman with the fair suppleness to cradle life," Bronn murmured with false piety. Those tits were made to be fucked and filled, made to leak milk one day while he watched.