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“She’d look good tied up in the dungeons.” Robert states as he watches the new barmaid, Lyanna Stark, from the kitchen as she bends over to clear the empty goblets from a wooden table.
If anyone else had made this comment, Catelyn would have expected the addendum of if you know what I mean or some similar comment to denote jest. With Robert though, she knows that given the opportunity and the rope, Lyanna would be bound in the dungeons.
Robert notices Catelyn staring. He elbows her, hard, in the side.
“Looks like you agree, Cat.” He laughs. “Naughty girl.”
Catelyn knows that, as a lady of a great house, she should act modest and blush at this comment. Perhaps, she should even take offense on Lyanna’s behalf, as she is also a lady of a great house.
However, the thought of Lyanna’s long dark hair falling past her ample breasts as the ropes hold her in submission is too pleasing. She hates how much it turns her on.
“Catelyn?”
Catelyn looks up to see Lyanna. Across the kitchen, Robert gaffaws over a pot of tomato broth.
“Uh.” Her face burns redder than Robert’s soup.
“I’m not sure we’ve formally met.” Lyanna extends a hand.
Catelyn shakes it, trying to will away the unwelcome-welcome thoughts of fucking her in the storeroom beneath the kitchen. As she walks away, Catelyn cannot tear her hungry eyes away from her retreating form. Lyanna Stark would definitely look good tied up in the dungeons.