A Need to Suffer

Expectations

Audio link: 

https://app.box.com/s/segtsrz0ox9m2pbsqh0mcvd3yfm6kdsv

Chapter Thirty-One

Expectations

Ramsay lay propped on his elbow regarding Sansa with a cocky smile and a swagger that spoke to her that he expected their next sexual encounter (no matter the facts that she had lain clear to him) to go his way now that he’d gotten her off as well as he’d promised; the grin that had settled on Sansa’s face spread further to think on how mistaken Ramsay was. Outside of this afternoon, Sansa hadn’t seen this side of Ramsay since their relationship was on the other end of the spectrum.

Since her departure and return, Sansa wasn’t sure what Jon and he had gotten up to, but Ramsay had most certainly changed. He’d transformed from the timid victim she had made of him into a distorted reflection of the man she’d known before. Ramsay proceeded carefully with her, but there was something under the surface that came out the more relaxed he became with her. It was a subtle vanity that Ramsay had always held when regarding himself and his personal abilities, and something that although Sansa didn’t wholly appreciate, she also didn’t want to obliterate from his personality. That aside, the narcissism that displayed the entitled smug brat used to getting his way was definitely a part of Ramsay that Sansa wanted to rend and aggressively fuck out of him.

She had put Ramsay through quite a bit of trauma, and Sansa was honestly relieved that Ramsay was able to readily readjust and acclimate into the new role she’d demanded of him without the apparent mental scarring that Theon had exhibited from his time under Ramsay’s rule. On her long journey home, Sansa had been haunted to wonder on the lasting damage she could have caused Ramsay just by comparing her own deeds to his, but to see the way Ramsay behaved with her today let Sansa’s worries abate. She still wholly affected Ramsay, but she knew from his current shown resilience, she did not in fact cow Ramsay to the extent that she’d feared.

Although, to see flashes of Ramsay’s old arrogance reemerging within his restoring self-confidence had another part of Sansa’s mind swirling through some of her most recent darker fantasies involving him. These musings took her back to their first days spent in the dungeon where she’d originally stripped Ramsay of his hubris and had her way with him most thoroughly. Never had Sansa felt such a rush as she had to experience Ramsay tensing and shaking beneath her as she pleasured herself using him as he’d used her. It was objectifying for Ramsay, and under the crippling agony of what had been taken from her, to viciously take back her control was freeing for Sansa. After his ultimate defeat at her hands, Ramsay had fully submitted to Sansa’s reign over him, and the power Ramsay had relinquished to her had left Sansa headily intoxicated.

The truth of the matter was, Sansa rather liked Ramsay compliant, and as much as what she’d done to him had come back to guilt her, Sansa couldn’t help the bestial stirring within her now that wished to uncompromisingly dominate this side of the old Ramsay that dared be bold enough to resurface in her presence. The bit of challenge Ramsay’s mannerisms expressed to her now, Sansa had to admit that she liked. Ramsay’s cheeky attitude gave her all the reason she needed to reassert her sexual hegemony over him if only for the sole purpose of putting Ramsay in his place to prevent his inflated ego from having a chance to harmfully reestablish itself. Sansa was no fool; she would always have to emphasize control to keep it with Ramsay. Their bond was based on supremacy, and if Ramsay became too cocksure, it would make the relationship Sansa intended to have with him a struggle. There were however many fun and explorative ways for Sansa to maintain her hold on Ramsay she was discovering, and she planned to exercise them all in the most pleasurable of ways.

Sansa’s eyes lulled into a half-lidded stare as she absently wondered how long that arrogance and haughty smile of Ramsay’s would hold when she had her glass cock buried to the hilt within him! As much as her impulses called to ravish Ramsay like an animal in heat, she would not hurt him; never again would Sansa harm Ramsay either physically or emotionally as she had done in those first few days. Any pain she proffered upon Ramsay would be earned and delivered with care. Sansa placated to herself that this of course did not mean that she couldn’t still take from him in the way she saw fit to mollify his duties to please his wife as a husband should. As these ruminations coursed through her mind, Sansa’s libido spiked higher in a want to claim Ramsay in a covetous manner that brokered no argument that Ramsay was and would always be undeniably hers.