Kapitel 7: Torn Apart
Chapter Seven
Torn Apart
Ramsay's mind flitted from the present where Sansa was steadily unwrapping her 'toy' to use on him to what he'd just done with her. He could still taste her he thought absently as he ran his tongue across his lips savoring the imagery it produced of seeing her heaving chest and tremoring body. The feel of her soft thighs squeezing against the sides of his face the closer she came to orgasm and her feet pushing against his shoulders to keep his tongue at bay when he was giving her a little too much of a sensory overload still excited him to think about even now in lieu of the awful thing she planned to do to him next.
She was beautiful, and when he'd first seen her arrive on horseback with Petyr Baelish, he had been more than a little relieved she hadn't looked like his step-mother or worse like many of the inbred nobles that tended to have elongated ears and crossed eyes. It had been a revolting prospect that he'd considered may come to pass when his father had told him that earning the Bolton name meant he'd also be made to marry to form alliances between houses (this was suggested to undo much of the mess Ramsay had made trying to keep other houses in line by flaying the heads of those houses as a deterrent to others to pay their taxes and more so for Ramsay to produce an heir since apparently that was all he was really worth to his father, a legitimized Bolton produced with another house to make it official. Even with the Bolton title, he still knew deep down Roose would always see him as a bastard.)
So many moments in his life he looked back to see where the dots connected now and how he ended up in his current predicament. He could blame his father, but he was more than sure Roose would have chosen a much different tactic on the battlefield, the man was always chiding him about his ruthless tactics. Roose would have had them stay holed up to pick off the Wildling army at the gates. Snow's forces weren't even half of what the Bolton army had, and their men had provisions for more than enough time to make it through half the year and whittle away Jon Snow's forces with the winter alone. It was the long game, and Ramsay was far too impulsive to play the long game, but if he had, he would have likely won. Ramsay had been foolish, always playing more games; life had always been a series of games that he had been the one making the terms for. Games were exciting in that way, but not when you were in the game and not making the rules for it. He glanced back to see Sansa had unwrapped the dreaded two-pronged phallic device and had set it on the chair, and his stomach tightened, he was definitely a pawn where Sansa was the queen now.
The door to the dungeon creaked open, and Sansa looked up to see the guard had arrived carrying a small cup for her. Her eyes shifted to Ramsay, "A little something to make things easier for you as promised, but I think this time, I want you on your back when I take you." Her eyes drifted up to the approaching guard, "Get another man, unchain him, and flip him on his back."
The guard handed the cup to her and nodded, "Aye, my lady."
As the guard hurried off to fetch another guard, Sansa's eyes drifted back down to regard Ramsay who was starting to look panicked as she laid the cup on the small table. It was bad to be taken from behind, but he really didn't want to see it happening to him. It was a sickening thought to have that visual to keep him warm at night.
Sansa lifted a brow, "You seem less inclined to please me on your back. Is there a reason it should matter? I do like taking you from behind, but I want to see your face when I'm fucking you this time… I always did admire your pretty blue eyes."
Ramsay's jaw dropped in his mortification for her to see him in such a way meant that he also would take her in in such a way. She kept blurring the lines for him, he did like the thought of staring into her eyes, but not like this! He would have liked to have her ride him looking as sensuous as she did now, but she wasn't going to fuck him like that he knew. He swallowed hard, "I might be able to please you better without the use of foreign objects. I can be gentle if you but give me the chance," he hated how his voice dripped with his desperation to avoid what she planned to do to him. He must sound pathetic to her Ramsay thought with no small amount of self-pity, but he just couldn't help trying to change the course of where this was going… at least if she would take him in this way, he might at least be able to convince her to go one round in a way that was pleasing to him.
Sansa's face darkened, and Ramsay knew the suggestion alone had been a bad idea, "You had your chance to be gentle, Ramsay, and that time has come and gone to find you lacking. You're making me seriously reconsider my own level of kindness to you now. Perhaps I've been too kind already."
Ramsay shook his head sensing he was digging a hole now he wasn't sure how to get out of, "No! Please don't reconsider! I… I'm sorry for asking, I meant no disrespect, my lady!" The fear swelled through him now as his panic escalated; he'd upset her now, she was going to be cruel to him when she was going to be nice. Ramsay knew if one of his victims had slipped as he had, there would be no end to the torment he'd have put them through just to prove a point, and in this light his fear doubled as his body now shook in small tremors from his own building terror.
Sansa's brow softened seeing how afraid he was of her. It was enough for her to decide she was already planning to fuck him quite sore, she didn't need to be cruel to the extent Ramsay thought her capable of. Still, she had to keep him well in line, "I'll consider your plea, but watch your tongue as it may get you into a position where your words dictate an unwanted fate."
Ramsay nodded vigorously, "Yes, my lady! Of course!" his emotions were peaked between intense feelings of anxiousness and relief, and Ramsay found his eyes quickly glazed over to spill a track of tears down his face.
This reaction made Sansa feel awful; she hadn't meant to distress him to such a state, but to see him crumple to her in such a way left her in a curious condition of inner turmoil where she simultaneously felt aroused by his vulnerability and a want to comfort him. She made no comment nor move, instead she stood stock still regarding him with an expressionless stare afraid to react at all lest she give him too much and confuse the lines of their newly forged relationship. Ramsay needed to fear her she knew, but it was becoming increasingly hard not to reach out to him the less hate she felt for him. She'd comforted him once, and she'd noticed an immediate change in his demeanor; it scared her. He had changed quite a bit after the ordeal she'd put him through, but it was unlike his most recent change where he seemed to willingly fall into the role she'd pushed on him. The real question she had to ask herself about the changes she saw he was making was… was it a ruse, or was he actually seeking her affection now? Like a shark that smells blood in the water, Ramsay had been a predator, and if given the opportunity, she couldn't know for certain what he'd do. With a man like Ramsay, it was hard to tell, but time would reveal his true intentions. Until then, she needed to remain strong around him for the both of them.
Ramsay flushed in shame knowing he had been brought to the brink of tears over just thoughts to what could be over what actually was, and in this way, he felt humiliated to be seen by her in this way. He supposed it was bound to happen eventually, but it didn't make it any easier to accept the level of weakness he felt to reveal it to her and know she saw him for what he was, so afraid.
The guardsmen came then, and without any words, they unlatched his ankles and then his wrists. They were about to manhandle him onto his back, but Sansa held up a hand halting them, "Let him turn himself over; he's more than capable, and I trust he's not foolish enough not to obey." Sansa wanted to test Ramsay's resolve now to see what he'd do and the manner in which he would do it. She paid particular attention to every move and expression he made now.
Feeling the manacles removed, Ramsay rubbed at the place they had been on his wrists before turning his eyes up to Sansa his eyes reflecting that he too knew this was a test. He didn't plan to fail it though as he shifted carefully onto his back and lifted his hands up to where the guards would need to affix his wrists. Ramsay shuddered as a grimace painted his face and he worked to keep any further tears from spilling from his eyes knowing what he was willingly condemning himself to.
The guards unceremoniously attached the manacles as Ramsay placed his hands where they could be easily cuffed.
Ramsay laid stiff as a board looking up at the ceiling, Adam's apple bobbing, as he swallowed his trepidation, and the guards clamped the irons on his feet.
The guards nodded to lady Sansa, and she nodded back an affirmative that they were done. The men took their leave without a word, and Sansa's eyes drifted back to Ramsay. He was trying to put himself somewhere else she could tell, but she didn't plan to give him that; she wanted to see him react to her and to truly feel his state of mind. She wanted to know the truth, and she planned to push Ramsay to find out if he truly was fully hers or just pretending.
Sansa began to undress, slowly, "Look at me, Ramsay," she stated in an authoritative tone. Ramsay's eyes had been quick to snap to attention regarding her fully as he watched her peel the layers of clothing from her body as she'd done the night she'd first used her toy on him. Ramsay shivered involuntarily as his eyes were spellbound by her movements; his own body reacted to what he saw, and Sansa's brow raised as she gave Ramsay a smirk, "And here I didn't think you wanted this," she teased.
Ramsay blinked his face flushing as he turned away and his member shrank to lay against his stomach. Although he was no longer standing at full attention, Ramsay wasn't completely flaccid either.
It amused Sansa how badly he tried now not to be turned on by her, but she could tell that he couldn't help it by the furtive glances he kept throwing her way and the fact that every time he did so, his cock bobbed a reaction to her.
When she picked up the two-ended dildo and inserted it within herself Ramsay finally did go flaccid as his breathing hitched convulsively watching as Sansa rolled the blanket that housed her toy, padded up behind him, and worked it under his head like a pillow. She then reached over and grabbed the cup, the guard had handed her earlier, off of the table before moving over to the side of the bed; her eyes regarded him coolly, "I'm not going to have to ask you to spread your legs for me am I?"
Ramsay was trembling all over now as he began breathing so heavily he was close to hyperventilating, but he didn't give her reason to repeat herself opening his legs shakily as Sansa set the cup down on the floor next to the bed and maneuvered herself between his legs. Her hands reached out to touch his knees, and Ramsay's body rippled is a quaking spasm.
Sansa watched his flesh break out in a coat of goosebumps as she slowly ran her hands from his knees up to his hip bones. He jerked and tensed as she did so. Ramsay's eyes fled to the ceiling once more, and Sansa let him retreat for now as she let her hands continue to explore upward to trace along his abs and to his collarbone. She'd laid the glass cock on his pelvis as she'd leaned on him, and she felt Ramsay writhe under her in his discomfort for a split second before he regained control of himself.
She smiled at the feel of his body under her; his heated and sinewy muscles clenching and unclenching as she laid her weight down upon him. The vibration of his trembling made the dildo judder against her clit and through her insides, and Sansa couldn't help letting go of a small exhale of pleasure.
Ramsay turned his wide feral looking stare on her now; he was paler than normal, and his mouth was drawn into a thin-lined frown as his nostrils flared intake after intake of petrified air. He was doing his best not to beg her; he was so very sore, and even though she'd given him a reprieve to heal a bit more physically, he didn't think he'd ever heal from the emotional scarring left in the wake of every time he agonized being taken this way.
Sansa's eyes reminded him of a cat sizing up the mouse it was about to pounce on; she was hungry for his suffering. Her long tendrils of auburn hair wisped his sides and tickled him lightly as Sansa moved back down the expanse of his body to sit on her knees between his legs. The glass dildo standing at full attention ready to perform greeted his sight as Ramsay glanced at Sansa and gulped lifting his head slightly unable not to watch what she was doing now. She reached down beside the bed now bringing the cup into view, "Sheep's fat," she informed as Ramsay looked on to see her dip the tips of her fingers into the substance and splay it down the length of the glass. The sheen caught the light leaving the slickness evident.
Ramsay bit his lip, it was lubrication, and it would be a lot less harsh than only saliva, still it was just another reminder of what was about to happen, and he couldn't help the small sob that escaped his lips as his brow creased in his misery and his eyes welled with further tears that he couldn't stop, "Sansa…" he felt the need to beg her but all he could find to come out was a small whimper as he laid his head back down and squeezed his eyes shut unable to watch what was coming next.
"Lift your knees, Ramsay," was the only response she gave him, and sniffling sorrowfully, Ramsay drew them up for her. Sansa reached under him and took ahold of his hips yanking him down until his arms were taught.
Ramsay gasped at the possessive way she'd wrenched him forward, and his body began to tremble anew by the aggressiveness he felt coming off of her in waves now. It promised a rough fuck, and if she fucked anything like she had the last time, Ramsay knew he was due to be in for a world of hurt.
Sansa took a small amount of Sheep's fat to draw across his entrance, and she felt him shrink against her touch with another wave of tremors. She'd enjoyed hurting him the first time, and now he was starting to make her feel badly for him. She kept trying to hold on to the awful things he'd done, it was motive enough to know he deserved no less than what she was doing to him, but the small choked sobs, the terror stricken quailing, and the agonized look on his face was making her feel horribly guilty. "Ramsay," she stated softly.
There was a long pause and a sniffle before she heard a watery, "Yes, my lady," work its way painfully from Ramsay's throat. He'd opened his eyes to look back at the ceiling, and another wave of tears spilled down the sides of his face.
"I want you to try and relax for me. I told you I was going to be nice to you, but I can't do this nicely if you keep tightening up the way you are. You're only hurting yourself; I'll go slow for you this time," she didn't know why she felt the need to be gentle with him now; he was never gentle with her, but she wasn't him, and now, he wasn't that part of himself anymore either.
Ramsay's body still trembled, but Sansa felt him working to loosen his muscles for her as She lathered a little more of the sheep's fat onto his sensitive skin. He watched her now with flared eyes that displayed more than just fear, they spoke of an expectation to betray.
She could tell that at that moment, he was less afraid of the pain and more afraid that she would be vindictive to him. She decided then that there was a lot more to discover about Ramsay than she'd have ever expected she'd wanted to. He was damaged wholly, and only by tearing him down could she see so readily all the chinks in his armor. She decided then that she would fix him one fragmented piece at a time. She took in a deep breath as she fixed him with a calming gaze, "Are you ready?"
Was she really asking him that? He'd never be ready, but Ramsay found himself nodding after a small hesitation. It wasn't as if, not being ready eternally, was going to keep this from happening to him.
Sansa nodded, "Okay. I'm going to ease into you now. It's going to burn a little, but you need to relax," as she said this, she pressed against his entrance.
Ramsay keened, "I'm not ready! I'm not ready!" His body convulsed and his knees locked together. Not being able to accept even her kindness like this caused him to weep now as he fully expected to feel her jam ruthlessly inside of him as a punishment for not giving her what she sought. She didn't though, Sansa paused and waited for him to calm, but this added kindness only seemed to make him shudder as his emotion rode over uncontrollably and he whimpered a mantra of apologies.
She couldn't do this to him now she found as she pulled the bulb out of herself and pushed down gently on his knees, "Shh, shh, Ramsay, it's okay. It's okay." He wasn't with her she realized having put his mind elsewhere in preparation for what she was about to do to him. She moved off the bed and behind his head laying her palm flat down on his forehead as she brought her face down close to his ear, "Ramsay, stop!"
Her command seemed to pull him out of the state he'd slipped into, and his eyes cleared as he blinked still sniffling and trying to control his tears that continued to cascade from him without any hint of abating. Would she hurt him in other ways now? Ramsay worried, but Sansa only lightly drew her hand through his hair to comfort him. He found himself turning to her now with a look of puzzlement trying to understand.
Sansa stared back down at him now very seriously, "Don't take this kindness for weakness Ramsay, I can't in good conscious take you the way I want to knowing you're still so sore. This is a reprieve not a halt to you pleasing me in this way. Do you understand me?"
Ramsay's eyes widened as he gave her a small nod. She wasn't going to hurt him, "Yes… Thank you. I won't forget that you were kind to me," as he said this another wave of tears rolled out of his eyes, and Ramsay blinked swallowing hard as his eyes remained locked on her intently.
Sansa brought her lips down to kiss him gently, and Ramsay stared at her in awe as his jaw worked. He was at a loss for words, and Sansa smiled as she moved the tips of her fingers gently down the sides of his face to clear away his tears, "I told you that you would serve me, and with your service, I will take good care of you. I always hold dear what belongs to me, Ramsay, and you belong to me now."
Ramsay swallowed hard still holding her with a look of wonder as he digested her words, "I… I'll not fail you again." The tears she'd cleared away renewed new pools in his eyes, and Sansa leaned in to kiss him again. He shuttered taking in a deep breath as he closed his eyes feeling electric to the energy her kiss spread through him.
When he opened his eyes again, she was smiling at him, "I won't let you fail, Ramsay. Do you believe me?"
He found himself nodding, and her smile broadened, "Good. Now close your eyes and rest. I will dress and be back in a bit to give you a bath."
Ramsay let out a sigh as his eyes fluttered; he felt emotionally drained, but he also felt something more that gave him a sense of peace he never could remember feeling. Sansa took the dildo from the bed and placed it in the basket with her other dildo and the strap followed by pulling the fur blanket from the floor to cover him. Ramsay's breathing lapsed into long deep drags of air as his body relaxed now under this new comfort. He felt a warmness that wasn't generated by any heat, it touched something deep within him that soothed like a balm to a burn.
Sansa dressed watching Ramsay with new eyes, she was still in awe herself over what had transpired between them, but she knew now more than ever that Ramsay was becoming more to her than she'd ever thought possible. She'd meant what she said to him; Ramsay did belong to her now, and she would take care of him.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein