A Need to Suffer

Drawing a Line

(As promised, before the end of the weekend! I hope it was worth the wait! =D As always I'm a total comment whore! If you like what I'm writing let me know! It means so much to me!)

Chapter Thirteen

Drawing a Line

The walk back gave Sansa time to contemplate how she planned to approach Ramsay. She had already decided he needed to be disciplined, but previously when she’d done this to him, it was to make him malleable, and mostly it was out of malice to make him hurt. This punishment was nothing like that, and she had to wonder if Ramsay would see the difference.

Ramsay heard the familiar click of Sansa’s shoes far before she’d opened the door; he had fretted for close to an hour awaiting her return and what it would bring for him. He half expected there to be a line of men trailing behind her and was more than a little relieved that was not the case. Ramsay had thought to try and explain himself more now that it was just the two of them, but the words seemed to die in his throat as he just stared mesmerized by his own building infatuation with her. Ramsay’s eyes fixed on her plaintively, and he swallowed hard at the seriousness on her face reflecting back at him; it was apparent that she was definitely still unhappy with him.

Sansa casually strode up to him looking down to observe the mournful expression on his face. She wanted to comfort him already without even having started to deliver his punishment. He was only defending himself after all; would it really be so bad to grant him a small reprieve? No, she knew that she couldn’t because this moment was setting a precedent for every other such encounter. Sansa knew she had to hold herself together and remain strong no matter how much she just wanted to forgive him and let the incident slide.

The fact of the matter was that Ramsay had let himself lose control, and that kind of behavior had to be tempered without leniency. Sansa knew this punishment would need to be a severe thrashing that left no desire for a repeat offense. It would not be worth repeating, she’d make sure of it.

She straightened looking the part of the noble she’d been bred for as she addressed him coolly, “I don’t think I have to tell you that I firmly disapprove of the way you reacted with those men, and that because you took it upon yourself to attack one of them, I’m going to have to punish you and punish you harshly.” She didn’t wait for Ramsay to reply as she moved away from him to the basket that held many objects Ramsay was not fond of.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and Ramsay’s eyes blinked seeming to open a little wider at her admission. He licked his lips spinning his head to follow her in his apprehension of the word ‘harshly.’ Would she take her glass cock to him roughly despite his injuries? She had him strip naked already and lie flat on his stomach, so it was a definite possibility. Sansa would do as she willed Ramsay knew, so he had no plans to ask her, not that he could, as he was already stunned silent by the terror that coursed through him.

As he watched her move through the contents of the basket, Ramsay thought she might instead bring out the dreaded wooden dildo, that although wasn’t as large as her glass double ended cock, he remembered vividly. It was the first invasion he’d suffered in that way followed by almost a whole day enduring the object in him cinched with rope to keep him from being able to get free of its penetration. It was a horrible torture; he was still sore now, and the thought of having to go through that again had his heart racing in a panic.

Sansa didn’t bring out either of the two items she could stick into him though, what she did withdraw from the basket was the thick leather strap.

Ramsay wasn’t happy to see this particular item come out either, but it was preferred to the other alternatives he knew lay within the confines of the basket. That also wasn’t to say the strap wasn’t just the first implement of pain on the agenda either. This thought sent a shiver to pulse through him as Ramsay numbly watched Sansa move back around the mattress to his side. She was readying to strike when he finally found his voice calling out in justification, “I couldn’t stand aside while they insulted not only mine, but your honor as well! Surely you can’t expect me to abide such disrespect without cause for action?!” It had been true, he’d been pushed to attack Reginald by his audacity to talk impertinently about him resulting in also insulting Sansa by proxy. (Although to be honest, in regards to Sansa, Ramsay was mostly attacking out of jealousy that they had seen enough of her that they actually could comment on her body. He didn’t have her, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling just as possessive of her as she was of him.)