Spoiler Alert: This story defines gentle femdom as 'female domination without the elements of pain, punishment, or humiliation.' It is recommended that the reader make sure this is what they are in the mood for before proceeding.

The sound made by dozens of metal legged chairs sliding across a hardwood floor is a signature of academia. Sure it can be found in other places but it's most common at the end of a college class. It's an audible signal to end a learning period. I'd not been teaching long, but it was a sound I'd come to enjoy.

There were lots of things about my new life I enjoyed. After spending my twenties running the fun but chaotic race of big city life I'd decided it was time for a change. Over the summer, I got a job teaching math at a medium-sized university in a small city upstate. I bought a house that was walking distance from the campus and settled into a more mature lifestyle.

I taught lower-level math courses. The 101 stuff that students had to take as part of their core curriculum or was a prerequisite for their course of study. I had three Monday, Wednesday, Friday classes, and two Tuesday, Thursday classes. Each class had about twenty freshmen or sophomores in it. I found learning everyone's name and remembering their face was the most challenging part of the job.

Pam was one of the students whose name I did learn. She was petite with short brown hair and wore black cat-eye glasses. She always dressed in baggy, comfortable college girl clothes that made it impossible to distinguish her body shape. When in class she would blend in like camouflage. The truth was I recognized her personality more than her appearance.

A few weeks into the semester Pam made it a habit to ask a one-on-one question after every class. They were good questions and she always understood my explanation. I found her to be polite, well-spoken, and more mature than the rest of her classmates.

After a Tuesday class in early October, we were reviewing the approach to a set of extra-credit problems. We'd finished when she asked, "Are you of House Mormont?"

Her question seemed completely random and out of context with the situation. Yet the mention of one of my favorite elements from my favorite fictional universe immediately caught my attention.

"Your coffee cup. It's the sigil of House Mormont right?" she asked pointing to the green mug with a drawing of a black bear inside the outline of a shield.

She was correct, the cup was the symbol of a family of characters from the Song of Ice and Fire book series. The same series that was later popularized by the Game of Thrones television show.

I smiled, "Yes it is. You must be a fan. No one's ever recognized it before."

Pam grinned back, "I discovered the TV show in high school, then decided to read all of the books."

"Well, I discovered the books in high school. The show didn't start until I was finishing my masters."

"Wow, you're an original fan. Where did you get the cup? I've never seen one like that?"

"I got this one at the San Diego Comic-Con in 2015. The show was huge back then and there were lots of vendors selling cool stuff."

"That must've been a great time," she replied.

We spent the next few minutes talking about the TV show and book series before she had to get to her next class. In the following weeks, Pam continued to stop after my lectures to ask questions. They were always about the workload. Never again did she bring up our common fandom.

At the end of the month came Halloween. It was my first as a homeowner. I decided to make the best of the opportunity by dressing up and handing out candy. I pulled out a Jorah Mormont costume I'd worn to a couple of Game of Thrones events. It consisted of a dyed yellow shirt, a brown leather kilt, and a pair of black pants. I accessorized that with a turquoise scarf, a decorative brooch, a leather belt, and brown wraps around my hands and upper arms. A replica longsword in a leather sheath pulled it all together. I looked as rugged, refined, and wise as the character.

It was a nice night so I stayed on the front porch rather than opening the door every few minutes. This also allowed me to be more festive. Some of the parents and older trick-or-treaters even recognized my costume. The whole experience was enjoyable and I remember feeling good about my decision to leave the hectic pace of big city living.

I saw a wide variety of trick-or-treaters. The first several waves were children dressed as pirates, nurses, magicians, and superheroes. After that came the high school kids. There were a lot of zombies and vampires in that group. The last wave was university students. I guessed they were mostly freshmen who didn't want to give up traditions or hadn't discovered the seasonal frat parties yet. These costumes were thrown together and very adult-themed. Packs of sexy rocker chic's, toga-wearing Romans, and scantily clad witches all came looking for treats.

The parade of costumes began to slow down at about 8 pm. In the next half an hour, only three more college kids come by. I figured that was the last of them so I went inside and grabbed a beer. About ten minutes later the doorbell rang. I was reaching for the candy bowl as I opened the front door. Before I had a chance to see my visitor I heard a female voice say, "Trick-Or-Treat!"

Standing on my porch was an amazing looking woman in an immaculate Daenerys Targaryen costume. Daenerys is one of the central protagonists in the Game of Thrones storyline. My Jorah Mormont character was originally sent to spy on her but soon became one of her most devoted followers. Eventually, he develops feelings for her that you don't know if she completely reciprocates. It's one of my favorite storylines in the books and the shows actors did an amazing job capturing the sexual tension on screen.

The woman mixed a wry smile with an expression of fun before saying in character, "Ser Jorah, First Knight of my Queensguard, how are you on this lovely evening?"

I had to shake the amazement out of my head to respond in character, "I'm well Khaleesi, what brings you to my house?"

The woman started giggling, "Um candy?"

I laughed in response knowing there was no Westeros equivalent to trick-or-treating and the very cute way she broke character.

I couldn't get over how incredible she looked. She wore Daenerys' breaker of chains outfit. This was a deep blue tunic over brown leggings, with a flap that tied to hide the divide. She also wore heeled leather boots and a cape that matched the blue of the tunic. She accessorized with silver rings on each hand and an exquisite platinum blonde wig. This wasn't someone wearing a Halloween costume, this was a fictional character brought to life.

The woman in the costume was also amazing. She didn't look like the actress Emilia Clarke from the TV show but had many features of a Targaryen woman. She stood statuesque and had a pale, unblemished complexion. Her frame was slender with a flat belly and small hips. Her breasts were the perfect size for her torso creating amazing accenting curves. She didn't have the purple eyes as described in the books, however, they were a deep brown that went perfectly with her outfit.

"Happy Halloween," I said. "Your costume is simply awesome."

"Thanks, yours too. I haven't seen many Jorah Mormont costumes."

"Well, I've seen a lot of Daenerys Targaryen costumes, and none measure up to yours."

She blushed a little, "Thank You. I bet you're a fan of the show?"

"Actually, a fan of the whole universe. I read the first book just a few months after release and have been hooked ever since."

"Wow, a fan from the beginning, impressive." She bounced her head from side to side before asking, "Would you mind if I got a picture of you in your costume?"

I was so excited to meet another costumed fan, "Absolutely, come in, come in."

After stepping inside, she reached into a small brown purse that doubled as a candy bag and pulled out her phone. I positioned myself under the hall light and struck a pose. She snapped a few pictures before grinning, "Perfect thanks."

"You're welcome, hey would you mind if I got some shots of you?" I asked.

"No, not at all."

I went into the den and grabbed my phone. When I got back I found Daenerys in the same spot I'd been and already posing.

She was the perfect model and very photogenic. I asked her to change positions a few times and she was more than willing. She seemed to enjoy the attention. The more I looked at her the more enamored I became. She was gorgeous and her costume was flawless. I could've spent the next several hours taking hundreds of photos. Not wanting to look like a total creeper I stopped after about a dozen.

"Thanks, you look like a real Targaryen," I stammered. "I doubt I'll get any more trick-or-treaters tonight, your welcome to take the last of the candy."

"Great," she said before adding, "Actually, would you mind if I used your bathroom?"

I pointed down the hallway, "Go right ahead. It's the last room on the left."

She grimaced before asking, "Could you do me a tiny favor?"

"Sure."

"I can't reach the zipper on the back of this outfit. Would you mind unzipping me?" she turned and pulled the cape away from her back.

I was dumbfounded, not knowing how to answer. It was an innocent enough request, harmless and trusting. It was, however, strange coming from someone I didn't know and who didn't know me. I then realized if I said no that might seem even stranger than her request. "Um sure," I agreed.

I reached out, took ahold of the slider tab, and with a steady downward motion unzipped her tunic. The sides separated to reveal the smooth pale skin of her back. She wasn't wearing a bra. My nerd brain found this both sexy and accurate to the character. When the slider came to a stop at the small of her back I took a second to admire the view before saying, "All set."

"Thanks," she acknowledged and began walking down the hall.

I watched the back of her sexy frame as she moved away from me. Her curves were just as amazing from this angle. I'd been thinking about what Daenerys Targaryen looked like for almost fifteen years. This woman was as beautiful, graceful, and confident as I'd imagined.

Minutes later she emerged from the bathroom and asked, "One more favor, could you zip me up now?"

"Sure."

I walked down the hall as she turned to face the open door of my den. She peered into the room as I closed the dress. When I was finished she said, "Oh wow," and stepped inside.

It was a small room but a perfect space for working at home. One wall had a large window facing my backyard and one was all built-in shelving. There was just enough space for a tattered oak desk, a swivel chair, and a vintage Chesterfield red leather sofa that was my grandfather's.

It wasn't the room itself that Daenerys seemed drawn to, but what I had stored in it. The entire room was memorabilia from a Song of Ice and Fire. The shelves were full of books and framed signed photos of cast members. There were also replicas of Longclaw, Needle, and several other weapons famous to the fictional world.

"This is amazing," she marveled. "Is it all real?"

"No, not all. The swords are decorative but that dagger is made from naturally formed glass. I got the actors' autographs at conventions. Everything else I scavenged from antique shows or specialty shops."

She grinned and looked at me, "And the books?"

"Yes, I have several editions of each novel." I pulled one off the shelf, "This one's my favorite. A first edition hardcover of A Game of Thrones signed by George R.R. Martin."

I opened the cover to show her the autograph. She gently ran her fingers over it, "That's awesome."

Stepping away from the shelves, she looked at one of the pictures on the wall. It was an artist rendition of Jorah Mormont giving Daenerys gifts at her wedding to Khal Drogo. My guest looked at it for what seemed like hours. Eventually, she turned and asked, "Do you think Jorah and Daenerys would've ever explored their feelings for each other?"

I could tell her mood had shifted. She was no longer a gleeful fan admiring collectibles. She was more serious and intuitive, wanting a deeper conversation.

This was a topic I'd thought about a lot over the years. It felt good to finally share my thoughts, "His attraction to her was obvious. But I'm not convinced she felt the same way about him."

"I don't know, I think she was attracted to Mormont. She knew that he knew how to treat a woman. He was a loyal partner, he was smart, experienced, and way more mature than the young warriors she was surrounded by. I think all of those things made him very appealing to her," she stepped closer to me. "They're all things that appeal to any woman."

"Yes, but he knew his place. He had no family, no land, and no power. He had nothing to offer her."

She looked me in the eye, "She didn't need that from him. He was enough for her. Yes, he couldn't be her king but he could be with her. Make her happy. There was a lot of that in the Seven Kingdoms."

"He would've worried too much about giving her a bastard child. Shaming the woman he cared for."

She reached out and started rubbing my chest, "She couldn't have babies, remember. They could have as much sex as they want without any fear of that."

I fumbled through my response, "You have some very compelling points. Maybe you're right. They might've explored a sexual relationship."

"Yes, and if he hesitated," she whispered as she leaned closer. "She would've commanded it of him."

"He would've done whatever his queen commanded," I softly agreed.

"Then do it Ser Mormont, First Knight of the Queensguard. Kiss your queen."

I wrapped my arms around her slight frame and pulled her tightly into my body. I gently touched the side of her face as we exchanged a tender kiss.

"More," she said. "Kiss your queen again. Make her feel wanted."

Without considering the circumstance I did what I was told. I knew a lot about the Game of Thrones world but nothing about the world of sexual roleplay. This incredibly beautiful woman had seduced me to the point where I was stepping into both without a second thought.

Our lips came together again. This time our mouths opened and our tongues touched. It was, without a doubt the best kiss of my life. It did more than arouse me sexually, it triggered my need to make this woman happy, to let her be the commanding monarch that she was.

She turned her head and moaned, "Oh Jorah." Her praise only intensified my desire to please.

"Your queen wants more," she softly instructed.

Being told what to do was incredibly potent. It fed my hunger to be needed and impassioned my desire to gratify her. I brushed my lips down the side of her neck. I mixed playful kisses with teasing flicks of my tongue as I moved around. When I found her ear I gave it a gentle nibble.

"That's it, my knight," she whispered before our mouths renewed their contact.

This kiss was a slow simmering pot of passion. My need to satisfy her physically twisted around my desire to do what I was told forming a type of lust I'd never felt before. The pressure built inside me. The more I wanted the more I had to restrain. I knew if I stayed true and didn't give in to selfish impulses I'd be rewarded. She seemed to know the exact moment I came to this realization.

Daenerys firmly pushed me away while taking a step back. She unfastened her cape, tossed it onto the couch, and turned around. "Release me," she ordered.

I reached out pulled the zipper of her tunic down then untied the dividing flap. She turned back around, stared into my face, and pulled the garment from her shoulders. As soon as her breasts bounced free, the dress fell to the floor. Her leggings were thigh high stockings and she wasn't wearing any panties. At the top of her left hip was an immaculate House Targaryen dragon tattoo.

Daenerys looked as stunning without her dress as she did with it. She was still wearing the leather boots, stockings, and exquisite platinum blonde wig. She struck a pose that radiated strength, independence, and fearlessness. At the same time, her eyes were loving and compassionate. She was a queen in every sense of the word.

She knew the power she had over me and enjoyed it. With the slightest hint of a smile, she commanded, "The Mother of Dragons has a woman's body. Make her enjoy it."

I began to caress her shoulders and resumed kissing her neck. The warmth of her flawless skin was irresistible. My hands slowly wandered down her chest to her breasts. I lowered my face to one and cupped it in my hand. I carefully squeezed its firmness before extending my tongue. I lightly circled her nipple, bringing it to full erection. I wrapped my lips around the areola and began to suck gently. My queen started to sway and moan softly, "Yes my knight."

Her acknowledgment was all I needed to keep going. My mouth moved to her other breast as my hands wandered over her toned body. I lowered to my knees, kissing my way down her torso. I swirled my tongue around her navel causing her to giggle. From there I ran my tongue to her dragon tattoo. She placed her hands on my shoulders as I lightly kissed the beautifully painted flesh and whispered, "My dragon queen."

She scratched her fingernails along the back of my scalp causing my head to pull away and shivers to run down my spine. "Stand," she commanded. "Stand and undress. It is improper to be clothed while your queen is naked."

I immediately did as she said. I didn't give it a second thought, it was like I'd lost my free will. She had control over my body, not me. As I removed my costume she sat down on the red leather couch and watched me. When I was done I stood before her naked, my dick as hard as the wood floor.

"The sight of your body pleases me," she said as she spread her legs. "Now give your queen 'The Lord's Kiss'."

I stepped to the couch and knelt between her feet. Leaning my head in I pressed my lips to the inside of her knee. I kissed my way down her inner thigh until her patch of fur tickled my nose. I pulled away and kissed the inside of her other knee. I worked my way down this thigh the same as I did the first. This time when I got to her vagina I didn't pull away.

I inhaled deeply taking in her scent before extending my tongue. I started licking her labia slowly. I ran it up and down one side then the other. She cooed a soft murmuring sound. With a bit more pressure my tongue started sliding between the creases. The petals of her womanhood opened giving me a clear path to her clitoris.

I teased the skin around it at first, sliding the tip of my tongue between her button and its hood. When I heard her whimper I knew I was doing a good job. My lips closed over her clit, forming a seal. Once it was firmly in place I started dancing my tongue over it in a slow steady pattern.

"That's it, my knight. You make your queen feel wonderful."

She began making a circular motion with her hips. I changed the rhythm of my tongue to match her movements. My hands traveled up to her breasts. I was able to gently knead the firm flesh while continuing to taste her clit.

Daenerys' motions accelerated. My lips continued to hold onto her clitoris and I didn't change the pace of stimulation. She let out a long low, moan. When I looked up from her crotch I could see she was smiling widely. Her eyes were closed and her head was rolled forward. The sense of satisfaction was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. I'm sure my enjoyment of this moment exceeded hers.

Her breasts were heaving as she breathed deeply, then her whole body tensed. She cried out and started to spasm. I could feel her chest shake under my hands as her hips forcefully thrust upwards. The movement was so intense that it pushed my mouth off of her pussy. I watched as this beautiful woman hit the peak of orgasm then drift back to the Seven Kingdoms.
Eventually, her eyes opened and she smiled, "You did well First Knight. Your talents are worthy of a lord."

I bowed my head, "It's an honor to serve you, my queen."

She stood up, "Your queen demands one more thing tonight!"

"Anything you ask."

"Your seed Ser Jorah. Your queen demands your seed. Sit up here while she takes it from you."

Again my body did as she commanded. Without question, I got up off of my knees and sat on the couch. She knelt next to my hip and straddled my waist. Daenerys wrapped her arms around my neck and gripped the back of my hair. She worked my head into a position where we were face to face.

"Look at me," she demanded. "I want to see your expression as you penetrate the Mother of Dragons."

She moved her hips downward and with no other guidance, my erection entered her. Inside she was soft and slick and smooth. I could feel her muscles clamping and releasing. It was that wondrous sensation that only comes from sexual intercourse.

Her face was inches from mine. I could feel her breath on my cheeks, "What do you think? Do you like the womb of a Valyrian?"

"It's amazing your grace," was all I could stammer.

She moved her hips up and down allowing the skin of our sex organs to rub against each other. "I like your cock as well."

While continuing to stare at me, she started rocking and grinding. With incredible control, she was constantly changing the angle of penetration. This allowed my cock to rub her vaginal walls without sliding in and out. The sensations were extraordinary. She quickened her pace causing me to groan.

"That's it," she urged. "Cum for your queen!"

The escapist reality of what was going on made my brain wobble. It felt so good to be under the control of this woman. To let her lead me, let her tell me what to do. I'd followed her instructions, I'd been a good knight and now I was getting rewarded. Yet even in reward, she commanded me.

"Cum for your queen! Fill her with your seed!"

I yielded to the experience. I yielded to my queen and what she was doing to me. My eyes glazed over with the sight of her face framed with beautiful blonde hair. My ears filled with her urgent demands. The incredible feeling of being inside her. I gave into all of it and when I did my orgasm came.

She looked me straight in the eye as I tensed. A smile cut across her face as the first waves swept across my body. I shuddered and spasmed. My hips shot up and off the couch as I began releasing into her. Slow and forceful pulses of ecstasy rocked through me. The whole time Daenerys watched with satisfaction. Once my orgasm had passed she relaxed and pressed her forehead into mine.

She stayed in my lap until my breathing returned to normal. We kissed lightly before she lifted herself off. When our bodies separated my penis felt soft, cold, and wet. The change of sensation let me know that our adventure had ended.

Without saying a word, Daenerys gathered her tunic and cape and headed to the bathroom. I stood, dressed, and waited for her to come out. When she did, her costume was on and she looked as stunning as when she first came to my door. She also had a glow about her. Her beaming smile was a mix of excitement and accomplishment.

"Can I get you a drink," I asked, hoping to keep her around. "Water or maybe a beer?"

"Thank you, but I should be going."

"How about your phone number? I'd like to see you again."

She leaned in and gave me a light kiss on the cheek, then whispered, "Oh I'm sure you'll see your queen around," before strolling out the front door.

A few days later Halloween was over and life had returned to normal. I was about a minute into teaching a Tuesday morning class when Pam came into the room. Because she was late she took a seat in the front row.

She looked different. Rather than the comfortable college girl clothes she normally wore, she had on tight low cut jeans and a short shirt that showed off her midriff. As she sat down I noticed the unmistakable House Targaryen dragon tattoo on her left hip.

I began to stutter in front of the class. Pam removed her cat-eye glasses and Queen Daenerys Targaryen smiled at me.