Capítulo 44: Reciprocation
Chapter Forty-Five
Reciprocation
Her turn… Ramsay stiffened with eyes flitting open in alarm having had the fog of arousal now lifted from his conscience. He'd been far more willing to endure her penetrating him in order to find release when his needs had not been fulfilled, but now the thought of her doing so wasn't overly appealing.
Heedless of Ramsay's change in demeanor, Sansa was ready to continue seeking her own pleasure. Her hand slipped away from his throat to glide back down and under Ramsay's arm as she gently wrapped her hand around his stomach flitting her fingers up and down over his belly button. Her lips followed suit cascading a slow descent down the side of his face and across the length of his jawline. Ramsay had enjoyed this sort of affection from her; he still did, but his form no longer shifted like a reed in the wind to her ministrations. The way his body went rigid against her and the vacant stare he leveled at the ceiling had Sansa pausing thoughtfully at Ramsay's chin; he didn't want to play anymore.
Of course, he didn't, Sansa inwardly scoffed slightly irritated to know that Ramsay was only a willing participant when it came to fulfilling his own gratification. She'd long ago come to realize that this wasn't exactly an unexpected phenomenon among men though. Many often drunkenly bragged in the mead halls on the glories of their exploitation of the women around them and hardly ever was there mention of any want to reciprocate over what they believed they'd done so well. Growing into womanhood, she was no longer protected from any man that would fathom speaking so crassly in front of her or her sister, Arya. Her mother's piercing glare and barbed quips had typically been enough to contain any would-be language unfit to befall a lady's ears.
In the absence of her mother, Sansa had learned to artfully avoid these sorts of crude conversations by simply disengaging and disappearing quietly into the shadows. She hadn't realized until much later just how much her mother had sheltered her from these repugnant realities leaving her with impractical fantasies of a knightly man born of story books to one day whisk her away. Those blossoming dreams that had flourished in her young girl's mind had been tattered and darkened many times over and turned into vivid waking nightmares the day her father's head had been served to her as a 'gift of mercy' by her betrothed. She'd played the victim of every man she was given to save Tyrion Lannister who was kind enough to just let her be. It had hardened her want to appease any man and bore within her a fire to instead consume that which she could now take.
"Move the covers aside, lie down, and prepare yourself for me. I will be gentle," Sansa's tone was aloof and belied the words she spoke leaving a cold chill to run up Ramsay's spine. He swiveled his worried sights over to link with hers, and what he saw in the depth of her eyes had him swallowing hard. Sansa's stare imbued Ramsay with a sense of wariness that she would broker no hesitation. She wasn't asking him to do this, it was a veiled command to submit. The immediacy to want to react created a wave of humiliation to vibe through him as Ramsay awkwardly shifted forward feeling the warmth of Sansa's body vacate from behind him and slip off the bed. His ears pricked to the gentle creaking of wood sliding over wood as Sansa rummaged through the nightstand drawer followed by the clinking sounds of glass as she pulled out the items she would need.
Mutely, Ramsay frowned as he tugged down the comforter staring at the inviting spread beneath. The bed was stuffed with the softest down feathers, and the linen was finely threaded, but it was the last place Ramsay wanted to lie. His erection had completely dissipated leaving him to hang unenthusiastically limp as his balls shrank protectively into his body in protest of what Ramsay knew was the culminations of the noises coming from the nightstand's haul. He stayed gazing at the empty spot meant for him a moment longer before feeling the bed move as Sansa's knees embedded into the mattress signifying that she was ready to proceed to the next phase of their engagement. Ramsay couldn't help tarrying long enough to glance back to watch Sansa languidly climb up and over to him. She'd inserted the glass phallic into herself having lifted the pleats of her skirts up and away to reveal the protrusion slapping unbendingly against her belly.
Smirking devilishly at Ramsay, Sansa swirled the vile of oil in her other hand like a tipsy drunk. Her amusement was evident as she bantered, "If you don't want to lie on the bed, I can always take you from behind. I rather enjoyed you that way." She really had, and the thought of Ramsay bent over in the manner she'd first entered him sent a thrill through Sansa that caused the glass cock jutting out of her vulva to pulse with her internal contraction.
She hadn't bothered to disrobe Ramsay observed, but his attention was usurped elsewhere as his eyes widened with dismay having been instantaneously fixated to the glass prong's approach and even more so to see it seemingly throb of its own accord to Sansa's statement. The memory of her inserting herself into him from behind was not a pleasant one. She'd gone deep and had been ruthless with him when Ramsay was already ravaged and sore from a full night's raping. His sphincter tightened and his gut shook reactively in remembered misery. Ramsay shook his head with a sense of urgency, "I would rather lie down," he blurted quickly emphasizing his statement by rolling onto his back to leave no further debate that he'd chosen to yield to her original instruction.
The doe-eyed expression that oftentimes dominated Ramsay's visage haunted Sansa now. She was attracted to the vulnerability etched on his face, but it also dampened the more vulgar side of her sexual desires that she wanted to indulge in now. If he had presented his backside to her as she'd suggested, Sansa was almost certain the shifting nature that wanted to grind herself into him and hump him like a beast would have prevailed to her better judgement to be mindful of how she claimed the body before her.
It was hard to fight the unquenchable thirst to use Ramsay in the various ways that had dominated her fantasies many nights over throughout the long carriage ride to and from his mother's mill. These ruminations clung to her mind covetously to drive a spike of craving that was difficult to deny given the fact that she could technically carry them out at will if she truly wanted to. As much as her sexual appetite would be satiated to concede to these longings, the retroactive damage caused would be a major wound to the relationship. In this way, Sansa was relieved Ramsay's stare gave her the restraint she needed to pull back the reins of her libido. Sansa was reminded of her oath to not give in to her wants; it wasn't worth carelessly hurting Ramsay or diminishing the trust she'd built with him over the past few encounters they'd shared. She couldn't risk another slip in her own control.
As her eyes traversed over his form, Ramsay found his body trembling against his own wishes; he could feel the visceral quiver vibrating through him as he settled into the soft mattress. It was an almost undetectable tremor unlike the evident quaking his frame had taken on the first time Sansa had put him on his back to enter him. That shiver had been caused by fear, and as dreaded as this particular sexual act had been for him, Ramsay couldn't say that he was afraid of the pain Sansa may cause him (although it was still uncomfortable) over what new sensations that had been evoked from her gentle explorations the last time she'd impaled him.
I don't want this! Ramsay's mind screamed. Yet, his balls stirred at Sansa's approach causing his insides to churn in anticipation not founded in anxiety but roiling excitement. Ramsay did want this; he wanted Sansa to subvert his will and do what she pleased with him, but his ego was afraid to forfeit acknowledgement to the fact he could or would not only allow himself to accept her taking him in this way but that he could actually find her doing so arousing.
It was a dichotomy of waring emotions where Ramsay's id actively fought his ego for dominance, an internal tug of war where his ego was slowly losing ground against the outweighing positives surrendering to Sansa presented. It was more than sexual desire that propelled Ramsay to want to be taken in this way; on some level, subconsciously this act stripped away his dignity as a man and felt fated and deserved. A secret penance to receive an ounce of the anguish he'd put upon others to suffer. Ramsay's ego didn't prescribe to this notion at all though vehemently refusing to recognize fault in himself because it reaped the verification of remorse, and culpability meant responsibility which was another confliction within Ramsay's psyche that he was being made to come to terms with at an alarming rate.
The glass bulb was shockingly cold knocking Ramsay out of his inner contemplations to fully engage himself with what was actively about to happen. Sansa had lathered the apparatus well, sidled in to where the fabrics of her dress now draped behind her and tickled the inside of his legs as her oiled hands slid up his thighs to the crook of his knees to start the process of gently moving his ass higher into the trajectory of her awaiting toy. Ramsay had absently observed her doing so, but he hadn't physically reacted until she'd brought herself near enough to begin actively connecting their bodies with her phallic extension. Involuntarily, Ramsay's ass clenched and his opened thighs tightened to Sansa's hips giving a slight resistance to her prodding to elevate him, but this opposition was fleeting as Ramsay took in a deep audible intake of breath and forced his legs to comply with Sansa's gentle urging.
Sansa took Ramsay's hesitance to heart and paused her forward momentum, "Are you alright, Ramsay?" She stared meaningfully into his saucer-wide eyes cradling his legs to her sides and letting her palms descend down to Ramsay's hips and back up again caressing the shuddering limbs in an attempt to sooth his nerves. Slowly, Ramsay's head rattled a nod, but his gaze conveyed a contradiction to his apparent approval. Sansa supposed what she asked of him was still difficult for Ramsay to internally accept, but the fact that he was willing to move past the mental barrier to give her what she wanted surged an even greater inclination to take what he offered while he was still favorable to her doing so.
Moving close enough to fully pierce into Ramsay, Sansa balanced his weight against her own taught thighs affixing the pleats of her dress more fully behind her so that they would not get in her way. Once she was angled to maneuver artfully in and out of Ramsay, Sansa took the vile of oil she'd set to the side to pour a few drops to Ramsay's opening watching the flesh there pucker protectively. The sight of Ramsay's further vulnerability caused Sansa's sex to generate a wave of heat and a desire to penetrate him just to see her access him in this way. Her sights marveled enthralled to behold the act of watching her hand angling the bulb of her manmade cock down to meet Ramsay's entrance, the reaction Ramsay gave to her swirling the droplets of oil to compensate her tool into his sensitive skin, and the push against him to finally pierce through the initial resistance his sphincter held to the invasion she presented and see herself slide into him.
There was a rapture to this that only built to hear Ramsay grunt a high-pitched whine not quite pained but a representation of how she was affecting him so deeply on a tangible level. Sansa moaned her pleasure taking in how Ramsay's brow furrowed and his lip twitched to the cadence of her slow easing inside an inch to then back out enough to further coat her device with more drops of oil before continuing to insert herself a section past where she'd already thrust.
Ramsay's hands dug into the bed attempting to brace against the intrusion and trying his best to relax even though Sansa's continued prodding elicited a steady burn in his backside that he found very hard not to try to physically resist. Ramsay grit his teeth in an attempt to muffle the gasping a mantra of groans conjured by her continued insertion. His breath hitched erratically in a struggle to compensate for the intense sensations that threatened to overwhelm him as Sansa drove into him fully to the point he could feel her cunt pressed firmly against his balls stretching him to the maximum capacity she was capable of. Ramsay convulsed underneath her weight as Sansa began gyrating her hips in a circular motion searching to uncover that hidden spot she'd discovered within him now that she was in Ramsay to the hilt. Sansa watched his face closely, and when Ramsay's eyes widened, and he gasped out an exclamation jolting upwards to crush their bodies into one another, Sansa knew that she had Ramsay right where she wanted him.
Swaying like a boat on a rocky sea, Sansa maneuvered her hips side to side in a jarring fashion as she continued to pump into Ramsay. He'd gone rigid when she'd found that spot again as a dawning realization flooded over his countenance that he very much did want to cum again to her ministrations. Their bodies began to move in tandem then as Ramsay equally worked to find orgasm alongside Sansa. Feeling his active participation had Sansa moving at an accelerated rate as her own climax headed and the pressure between actively pushing and pulling her phallus into Ramsay and his own body's juddering causing her insides to tighten around the bulb within herself in a desperate need to reach her own culmination to their shared sexual escapade.
Their lips collided passionately until Sansa's frame stiffened and she released an undulated cry of ecstasy into Ramsay's mouth. Ramsay felt her pulsing vulva throb through his inner core, and to know that he had made her cum was the final point that drove him to ejaculate alongside her wanting to share in their mutual intimacy. Sansa reached behind to pull her toy both out of herself and out of Ramsay noting from the previous engagement that Ramsay had felt uncomfortable when she'd left it inside him. Ramsay sighed his relief, and Sansa collapsed on his chest as the two breathed heavily attempting to recover from their physical bout. Sansa's long auburn hair had come loose in her efforts and now spilled messily across Ramsay's face. He didn't mind, and in fact, he felt more sexually satisfied than he'd ever been resting in Sansa's arms monitoring how their racing heartbeats seemed to slow at the same rate. Ramsay's arms encircled her waist tentatively, and Sansa rewarded his action by squeezing her own arms more tightly around his shoulders to hug him back. She lifted her face from beside his, so that their noses almost collided from the closeness. Her expression wasn't something she often reflected. Ramsay had only caught a glimpse of this composure directed towards him prior, but it was calming to see Sansa was completely at ease. She kissed the tip of Ramsay's nose playfully, and he let out a small chuckle staring appreciatively back up at her once more in awe of how he could have managed to become this attached to a woman he'd originally saw as an object followed by a threat to all he held dear. The truth was, Sansa was his deliverance, and Ramsay not only realized this but welcomed her to be the searing flame to cleanse his soul. Lying in her embrace, it was easy to decide he was ready to be purified at her behest.
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