Kapitel 49: Synchronization
Chapter Fifty
Synchronization
Standing, Sansa snatched Ramsay's wrist and roughly pulled him to his feet. A wash of surprise ghosted over his features at her suddenness, but catching the glint in her eyes was all he'd needed to immediately connect to the avarice exuding from her form. Normally sensing this sort of energy coming from Sansa would have evoked a similar reciprocal reaction of lust from Ramsay, but as it was, his niggling vexation from their prior conversation weighed heavily on his disposition. Not affording Sansa the deference she'd come to expect, Ramsay instead rewarded her advances with an aggrieved eyeroll and a grimace as he muttered disdainfully, "I'm not in the mood."
Seizing his downturned face, Sansa's eyes darkened as she jarringly snagged Ramsay's chin upward to regain immediate eye contact. Ramsay's icy blue orbs flared a momentary defiance given his indelicate handling, but as his sights settled on the gravity of the stare reflecting back at him, any pushback he had offered initially quickly receded to be replaced by a creeping panic that he may have overextended his boundaries.
"I didn't ask if you were," Sansa coldly stated yanking Ramsay's face towards her hungry mouth in the same breath. Her lips crushed forcibly into his causing Ramsay's body to stiffen as Sansa's other hand possessively dug into his hip stopping his attempt to step backwards. She'd already decided that he would not be refusing her.
Ramsay's hands braced firmly against Sansa's abdomen in a mild gesture to push away from the involuntary embrace, but he didn't dare apply any actual pressure to try to remove her even though Sansa's palm moved down to cup and painfully grope his right ass cheek.
Grunting in distress, Ramsay rose up on his toes, and Sansa used his reaction to further unbalance his frame and drag him into her grinding hips. Their size difference was very evident now as the length of Sansa's body seemingly coiled around Ramsay's to demonstrate how fully she could engulf him within her own powerful limbs.
The inner resistance that Ramsay had originally mounted melted under Sansa's persistence, and his figure slackened in her grip to allow her to move his form fluidly against her. The friction of Sansa's hips against his torso had Ramsay honing in on his own want for sexual release as he quickly hardened with equal enthusiasm and animatedly shifted his pelvis in time to Sansa's efforts.
Rearing her head back, Sansa released the lip-lock she'd held Ramsay immobile by with an audible snap and a deep inhale. Gasping, Ramsay paused in his own gyration staring in exhilarated awe up at her heated mien. The passion she'd been kissing him with had left Sansa's own lips puffy and swollen with a flush of red as her hands furiously tugged at the hem of Ramsay's tunic to haphazardly wrench his shirt free.
The cool night air was momentarily noticed but Ramsay's perception of the chill evaporated within the proximity of Sansa's body heat as she hauled his naked chest back to collide into her front. Without warning, Sansa dipped her head into the cove of Ramsay's exposed neck and sank her teeth into his tender flesh eliciting a yelp of shock and an elongated hiss of pain to warble from his throat. Her teeth ground deep enough to awaken every nerve that radiated around the bite barely refraining from breaking through the skin.
Ramsay's pupils dilated as the sensory of pain mixed with pleasure. She'd bit him prior to this, but not to this prolonged intensity. The beast within had taken hold, and the she-wolf's savagery spilled forth with possessive raking claws embedding into his back and clenching incisors that remained clamped into his muscle firmly suckling a growing heat into his neck. There was no opposition to the manner in which she usurped full control of his form, and Ramsay found his head lolling to the side with an acquiescent sigh as his lashes fluttered closed.
The thrum of Ramsay's heartbeat and his shallow intakes of breath pulsed in Sansa's ears, and his complacency to bow to her physical demand had her audibly humming into his flesh with delighted ecstasy. Yes, Ramsay wanted to be taken by her, and his bodily submission to her rough treatment of him now gave Sansa further mental credence to continue greedily claiming him. Ramsay's own shaking hands rested gently on Sansa's hips until she finally withdrew her teeth from his collar to peer down at him with cool blue eyes and an unreadable countenance.
He stood immobile staring into her hypnotic gaze as Sansa snaked her right hand up the base of Ramsay's spine, and her fingers sifted into the depth of his dark curls closing a fist solidly on the back of his skull as her left hand haphazardly ripped at the ties that bound his trousers to his waist. Ramsay's own hands raggedly pulled and jerked at the chords holding his breaches in place equally wanting to release his lower half to give Sansa's eager hand access to touch him without hinderance.
With their combined efforts, Ramsay's pants sagged quickly to pool on the ground. Noncommittedly, he stepped out of the leggings kicking the garment to the side to allow his erection the freedom of pressing into the pleats of Sansa's dress. Tugging Ramsay's cranium backwards, Sansa took the whole of Ramsay in with a calculating stare enjoying the way his chest heaved sharply and his half-lidded sights slid to the ceiling for a fleeting moment before lowering to refocus solely on her.
A sense of euphoria exuded from the dull ache in his neck left in the wake of Sansa's ravaging mouth, and his frame jittered with the elapsing sensation only compounded by the way her eyes bore into him now. Ramsay wobbled unsteadily with knees that tried to buckle under the heady exultation she'd engulphed him in, but Sansa held him easily aloft by the painful handhold she'd kept locked firmly in his hair. All the while Sansa's free hand took to brusquely roaming the contours of Ramsay's body as a small cruel grin spread delicately across her features provoking a shudder to course through Ramsay's form as she carefully walked him backwards towards the awaiting tub.
Pushing Ramsay to the tub's edge, Sansa guided him back to sit on its corner gutturally whispering into his ear before drifting back to stand tall over him, "You're going to sit on it for me. I want to feel the whole of you on top of me tonight."
Blinking, Ramsay's face slackened at the dawning horror of what Sansa was declaring. It wasn't really a surprise at this juncture, the manner in which she wished to engage her sexual avarice upon him, but Ramsay hadn't expected her to be so aggressive in her pronouncement of how she planned to do so. It didn't bode well given the current coarse handling she'd opened this tryst with.
Ramsay numbly watched on as Sansa turned on her heel to stride confidently over to the bed searching about and finally rooting out the location of where he'd placed the glass prong in the nightstand drawer. She withdrew it alongside the flask of oil briefly swiveling her head back to flash a devilish smile at him before setting the objects on the nightstand to disrobe herself.
No matter how many times he'd seen Sansa's naked form, it never ceased to leave Ramsay intoxicated with desire. He had always admired her feminine curves, but to see her stride about with authority in her step commanded something new. The gears of Ramsay's sexual arousal had been defined and hardwired by his level of supremacy gained over another, and reflections of that power in others was never lost on him.
Ramsay had relished the flares of dominance that Myranda had proffered when they would play their little games (with others and each other) but that was all it had been with Myranda, a passing flicker. When all was said and done, Myranda was still just 'the kennel master's daughter.' Her station was only a partial disparity in the illusion of her having any real power over him compared to her insecurities. Myranda's reigning jealousy and self-doubt had been personality traits that made it impossible to ever relinquish any actual hegemony to Myranda in the bed room although Ramsay had enjoyed using Myranda's quick temper and envy as leverage to get to her to easily accommodate any flippant desires he had manifested in their relationship.
Control wasn't something Sansa had to ask Ramsay for, she demanded that he surrender it. He'd grown attached to Sansa, and with doing so, Ramsay was willing to timidly open himself to experience the opposite spectrum of his sexual identity having never truly been able to partake in it to any real degree. His mind rolled over her words and the lingering rapture she'd left him in, and throughout, Ramsay's member hadn't grown flaccid at all.
It wasn't until Sansa was returning that Ramsay's attention snapped back to where this encounter was heading and the realization that he'd have to enact the given undertaking Sansa had prompted. The idea of Sansa subverting his will and making him perform immoderate debauchery for her hedonistic yearnings had been appealing to the mind's eye for all of a few minutes, but now that the reality was settling in, Ramsay's fear of what was to come correspondingly reclaimed him.
Even with a newfound want to self-explore, Ramsay couldn't internally admit that he might actually like being forced to succumb to the depravities Sansa willed upon him. It was a rabbit hole of frustration and inner turmoil that released a floodgate of emotion to wash over him. The overwhelming effect of these sentiments now left Ramsay disengaged with eyes that sought the floor in an attempt to flee the coming scenario as dread overtook his previous longings.
A gentle hand fell upon his shoulder, and Ramsay's head pivoted upward reflexively awarding Sansa with his full attention. Sansa's demeanor shifted slightly, and where she'd been forceful up until this point, she regaled Ramsay with the softest of smiles leaning down to plant a tender kiss on his forehead ensuring in a melodious murmur, "It's alright. I will be mindful."
The hand she'd placed on Ramsay's shoulder dragged lightly across his back as Sansa stepped past him to enter the tub. He rotated to follow the momentum of her movement watching on as Sansa rested the vile of oil on the tub's rim and went about maneuvering the bulbous side of the large phallus into her vulva. Ramsay's throat bobbed, and his cock quivered in subconscious response to the want of an impending reward he knew would likely follow fulfilling Sansa's desires. She was programming his body to seek out release through the conditioning she had thus far ritualized.
Amplifying the weighted intensity that built between them, Sansa teased Ramsay's vision with a slow insertion of the gourd-shaped end of her double ended phallus in and out of herself. His sights ogled the scene hungrily watching the swell of her vagina engulf the object again and again. Sansa's grin grew with the resonance of Ramsay's labored breathing, and when she was satisfied that Ramsay was sufficiently drawn in, Sansa finally pushed the bulb in one final time before leaning down to grab and apply the oil to the mast of her shaft.
Ramsay's lip trembled and his brow furrowed in uncertainty, but he did not cringe away when Sansa laid the flask down after pooling a significant amount into the palm of her hand and extending her other hand to him. Standing, Ramsay reached out reticently to take the offered invitation to join Sansa and was shakily led to step into the tub with her.
Lightly, Sansa rotated Ramsay's frame to face away from her. A rash of goosebumps assailed the whole of Ramsay's body, and the entirety of his form began to shiver his anticipation as he turned his back to her. Sidling nearer, Sansa's lips moved to burn a soft trail of kisses across the width of his shoulders. The hand that had helped him into the tub now delicately dipped down and in between Ramsay's thighs tracking lithe fingers smoothly down his left flank to loop around and delicately guide Ramsay to raise that leg out of the tub. His limb followed the course of Sansa's piloted directive steering him to brace his foot on the tub's wooden framework.
Once Ramsay was solidly placed, Sansa mentally vetted the trajectory of how her handmade cock could easily slip into him from this angle. Just imagining piercing Ramsay with her prong's entire length and girth had Sansa's body quiver and her nipples harden in her avarice. She found herself having to marshal the impulse of taking hold of Ramsay's hips to plow into him with one quick earnest thrust. Ramsay wasn't ready to be taken with that level of brutality, and he was doing so well to give her this much compliance without résistance or fear. If she moved too quickly, Sansa was afraid she'd spoil what trust she'd thus far gained with him. Instead, Sansa averted her momentum to maneuvering the hand containing the lubricant over to the gap she'd made between Ramsay's legs to gently work the oil against his sensitive opening.
Throughout Sansa's ministrations, Ramsay's breath hitched in both dread and excitement, but when her greased fingers began applying themselves to his taint, Ramsay shuddered out an audible whine, and his back arched with a sudden lurch. The palm that steadied his propped-up leg gripped the meaty underside of his thigh tightly keeping Ramsay both stable and restrained from moving away from Sansa's touch. Her teeth grazed his ear as heated breath cascaded across the side of his face whispering a guttural command, "Don't. Just stay put."
Ramsay froze rigidly as if on cue; his nostrils flared in time to the increased palpitating thrum that drummed in his chest as the exhilaration of sexual excitement intermingled with the growing panic this encounter welled within him. Lost to the touches Sansa afforded him, Ramsay's mind warred between whether Sansa's fondling made him feel wanted or exploited. Her handling was craven, but it did not lack care and affection, so Ramsay remained static unable to physically react other than to receive and absorb what was happening to him while his thoughts whirled out of control in a desperate attempt to digest and process what truth he was willing to accept.
The digits that slid fluidly back and forth across the aim of Sansa's desire paused at the opening and began sweeping circles over Ramsay's most sensitive flesh. His form grew stiff to the concentrated effort, and his throat warbled a small whimper as first one then two of Sansa's fingers jutted distressingly inside him liberally working the remainder of the lubricant around the inner walls of his sphincter.
The internal burn this invasion caused erupted through him immediately, and Ramsay's first instinct was to jerk away from the pain. He would have, but Sansa's other hand had travelled around to his front violently scooping his genitals up to clutch his package against his abdomen. The maneuver effectively held Ramsay's body hostage flush against her own as Sansa proceeded to push into him more rapidly. His braced leg shook violently in protest, and one of his hands reactively shot back to press against Sansa's hip. An immediate apprehension blossomed in Ramsay's mind fearing what else he knew Sansa planned to stick in him while his other hand clamped down frantically on the vicelike grip that doggedly held his genitals in place.
He felt weak pressing against an impenetrable force as Sansa easily drove away the gap that separated her flesh from his. It was as if he'd offered her no resistance at all. Ramsay's submerged foot raised up reflexively on the balls of his feet in an attempt to equalize their height and gain some sort of leverage to dislodge Sansa's embedded fingers, but her hand simply followed every move his body made not allowing Ramsay even a moment's reprieve from the riveting precision her hand afforded.
Realizing that Sansa had him in an awkward position, and he wasn't going to be released from it without actively resisting her, Ramsay let go of the last vestiges of external struggle he'd feebly posed relenting to let himself fall back limply into Sansa's grasp. Her arousal amplified tenfold, and Sansa released a guttural moan as she greedily drew Ramsay's supple frame into her like that of a Venus flytrap ensnaring its prey.
Messy strands of auburn hair spilled forward enveloping Ramsay's head and chest, and for every gasp of air that Ramsay took in, Sansa's fiery locks shifted across him like a silken shroud riding the ocean's tide. It was an aesthetic contrast to the milky reflection of his pale white skin further illuminated by the moonlight that shone through the window and the flickering shadows created by the raging hearth.
Against Ramsay's want, Sansa stretched him with one hand, as the other hand that had gripped all the bits of his manhood loosened to his surrender. She began liberally rubbing and petting his balls and flaccid penis until Ramsay had grown quite stiff to her attention. "Are you ready to put yourself on me, Ramsay?" Sansa practically hummed as her fist tightened around his stiff cock. Ramsay heard a pathetic pledge dribble from his lips from some other warped entity deep within himself that now controlled his words, "I'll never be ready, but… I… I am yours Sansa; I am forever yours. Do with me as you see fit."
It was Sansa's turn to gasp as the impact of Ramsay's avowal sent a wash of rapacious want to roil through her. "I wish to have you now; turnabout and face me," Sansa's words were laden with desire yet remained authoritatively aloof as she relinquished her hold on his genitals and withdrew her fingers from inside him.
A ripple of relief cascaded through Ramsay to feel Sansa's digits retract. The heat of her body receded then, and the bath waters swooshed fluidly around his leg that was still planted in the tub. Glancing back over his shoulder, Ramsay saw Sansa kneel down and submerge herself within the waters below. Her hungry stare locked on him, and she hoisted her hips upwards raising her phallus in eager anticipation of his soon to be arrival. That thing was so damn big, and to look at its heft made the respite from Sansa's invading finger feel far too short lived. Ramsay didn't want to sit on it; somehow placing himself upon her felt even more demeaning than every other way that Sansa had already taken him. His face reddened in further humiliation mulling over how active of a participant to this shaming act he would be to fulfill Sansa's request. These thoughts didn't stop his slow procession though, and Ramsay sheepishly turned to face Sansa.
Tilting the prong towards Ramsay like an accusing finger, Sansa haphazardly flung her hair over the bathtub's edge and propped her frame up firmly against the back of the tub ready to accommodate Ramsay's weight. She gracefully motioned to each side of her waist with her free hand, "Put your knees here and here. I will hold it steady for you to ease yourself atop of me."
Watching her gestures and direction wasn't making the task any easier for him, and a pout had worked itself firmly onto Ramsay's mien. In spite of his continued reservations, Ramsay found himself awkwardly staggering forward to follow thru with Sansa's guided commands. Unsteadily maneuvering his knees down and into the position Sansa had requested him to take, Ramsay acutely felt how well lubricated she'd made him. The oil seeped into his skin slickening his thighs with its moisture, and the lack of friction between his cheeks left little doubt on how easily the thickness of her huge toy would slide into him no matter Ramsay's own reticence to keep it out.
Squirming with excitement, Sansa's vaginal muscles rippled in a rapid pulsation around the smooth orb that was implanted within her allowing her to sense what the protruding end was about to envelop. It wasn't the totality of the experience of a man's sensitivity Sansa was well aware, but as it was, she was thankful for the kindness of the glass blower who had offered her such a device where she could feel these varying degrees of sensation she never knew existed. With visualization and the movements and pressure radiating internally she garnered from inserting the appendage into Ramsay, it was all Sansa needed to find her climax.
Thrusting her hips up, Sansa zealously grabbed Ramsay's ass with both hands spreading him open for ease of access. Her phallus did not enter him right away but rather the oiled tool skimmed against his slippery gap as she rumbled longingly, "Pull your manhood up, so that I may have a clearer view. I want to see myself enter you."
The way that Sansa had clutched Ramsay's core to rake her member roughly across his entrance had been so sudden and aggressive that Ramsay was momentarily knocked off balance. Fumbling with a graceless splash, one of Ramsay's hands plunged into the depths of the tub to keep himself from toppling over while the rest of his form was jostled about like a ragdoll.
Flushing crimson, Ramsay took in Sansa's instruction; she hadn't commanded him in a forceful tone, but she wasn't asking either. A numbness washed through Ramsay's limbs as he straightened and slowly reached down to comply to the directive with a growing grimace straining his face. The absence of his outer extremities resting on her belly, now cupped shakily against his own abdomen, created a slight yet very noticeable draft between their bodies. Trembling, Ramsay watched Sansa's pupils focus between his legs and her mouth part as her orbs locked onto their intended target. Fluidly her hips dipped downward as her hands gripped his ass cheeks more tightly, and with a sense of growing anticipation, Ramsay realized Sansa was taking aim.
Sucking in a breath, Ramsay braced himself against the sensation of the whole length of Sansa's thick rod sliding fluidly up and down his crevice. Rapidly, the glass cylinder worked to find a way in until the tip ran across the edge of his entrance pausing as Sansa noted the dip. Letting go of one of his ass cheeks, Sansa sturdily clutched the base of her cock for maximum control as she hungrily labored to feel the pressure of the tip passing the threshold of Ramsay's sphincter. It was akin to a worm burrowing into freshly tilled soil due to Sansa thoroughly lubing and stretching him prior. All it had taken was for her to initially penetrate him with the bulbous head, and from there, Sansa did not hesitate. With a sense of savagery, she plunged into him so fully that Ramsay felt half of the entirety of her phallus fill him with one powerful lunge. Ramsay's eyes bulged in shock feeling the enormity of her appendage filling him as he audibly cried out a squelched squeak of surprise.
The sting was immediate and etched its way through Ramsay like a bolt of lightning. His torso jerked and wobbled erratically as Sansa did not pause in her further insertion but instead moved both hands to clamp firmly down on Ramsay's hips. Her fingers affixed themselves securing their grip into the small of his waist as her knees rose to further move Ramsay into the trajectory of her jarring piston-like motion. Within three shoves, the warmth of Sansa's mound had made contact with his taint ensuring that she had in fact bottomed out to put every inch that she could possibly fit within him.
Rigidly Ramsay was propelled forward with flailing hands that desperately gripped the sides of the wooden base that Sansa bucked against as he vividly bore the receding pull and the quick harsh reinsertion of the glass prong's full measure. As much as Ramsay wished to relax, his sphincter muscles refused to obey tightening against the invading force which caused him to feel acutely that the length was not the hardest part of Sansa's cock to take. The fashioner of this torture device disguised as a pleasure toy had created a gradient that grew in girth the further down the shaft the partaker was made to endure. In her excitement, Sansa was rutting into Ramsay animalistically with unerring speed and precision ensuring that he was made to handle the full capacity it had to offer with each and every thrust.
His feet rose out of the water with curling toes as Ramsay found himself gasping out inarticulate moans of both pain and astonishment completely dumbfounded by the overwhelming manner in which Sansa feverishly fucked him. So stunned was he by the swiftness of her engagement that he hadn't realized that Sansa had maneuvered him up to align their faces to be able to peer at one another intimately.
Lifting his blue eyes to lock on hers, Sansa lunged forward planting a passionate kiss upon Ramsay's mouth stealing the pant from escaping his lips. They collided again and again, and Ramsay closed his eyes mewling an imperceptible noise that was a mixture between a cry of dismay and veiled acceptance. Ramsay was outside of himself in a way he'd not known. Unlike when Sansa had been rough with him before, there was an aura about her that shown she was keenly aware of the manner that she manhandled him. She made him uncomfortable, very uncomfortable, but she teetered on the boundaries of pain without actually hurting him. Her ministrations were forceful, but not uncaringly so, and Ramsay found this dichotomy brought a well spring of emotions to engulf him as an inner need to be wanted this avidly struck with an intermingled sense that he also deserved to be treated like this. He'd been the taker his whole life, and it was high time he paid the piper.
The water pooled underneath him, and the audible slap of their bodies resonated in the room as Sansa continued to gyrate into Ramsay sloshing much of the tub's contents about and out onto the floor in her heated rotation. They'd become so attuned to each other that as Sansa's body twitched and her intakes of breath signaled that she was getting closer to orgasming, Ramsay's body reacted to the stimulus that had been building within him every time her phallus ran across that sensitive spot housed deep within his center. He'd grown erect to the continued glide of his balls and penis against her soft shapely abdomen which hadn't been difficult to remain that way given the feeling of Sansa's hard nipples pressing her heaving chest into his.
Imaging Sansa's pleasureful release as their lips continued to remain in a constant heated discourse sent Ramsay over the edge, and he hiccupped an intake of breath before exclaiming out a muffled shout of disbelief as his member discharged the load her phallus then continued to steadily milk out of him. Sansa was momentarily taken off guard having been on the verge of cresting into her own orgasm when Ramsay did before her. Upon hearing him call out, she was rocketed past her own threshold to join him as they moaned their rapture in unison. As they did so, Sansa's arms wrapped tightly around Ramsay, and the two panted with hearts pounding into one another until both stilled into the embrace silently digesting the moment with a shared sense of peace radiating between them.
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