The Wolf and the Blade (GOT Story closed for HCJ22)

When Ramsay entered his wife for the first time, he was acting surprisingly gentle. Each inch of his cock slowly entered Sansa, not all at once. Finally, when his erection was fully inside of the female, Ramsay started to slowly pump his hips, thrusting forward. His thick, hard cock pierced the girl completely, sliding as deep inside of her as possible.

Sansa’s sweat nectar coated him, and he was already throbbing. Seeing her bound and gagged, being inside of her, and this entire scenario served to arouse him. Things were made even better when she started to moan, unable to hide her pleasure. It was glorious.

It almost seemed like she had stopped struggling completely, as if she was giving into the pleasure. Ramsay doubted that was entirely true, but he was using it to his advantage. The pace was slow for now, still, as he moved his hips, rotating them, and rubbing all against her.

His lips kissed Sansa over the gag this time again, holding their lips together in a firm grip, his tongue even tracing her upper and lower lip.

Then, his mouth returned right to her nipple, the one he focused on the first time. Meanwhile, his hands were busy with the other mound of flesh, not letting it leave his focus. The free hand dipped down to massage her clit, so, at this point, Ramsay was offering Sansa pleasure with every part of his body that he could offer as he continued to thrust, deeper inside of her each time.

Her body was tingling with sensation as Ramsay moved within her. Each movement felt different but all seemed to stoke some fire within her. When he kissed her, she found herself kissing him back, as best she could with the gag in place. His hands roamed over her body as he continued pull feelings of pleasure from her that she had never before known existed.

When his fingers moved to her clit she cried out in pleasure. Her hardened little nub seemed to be screaming to be touched and she hadn’t realized this fact until now. Between his hands, mouth, and cock, she had to fight her hips not to meet to his. Her breathing was becoming shorter as she whimpered against the gag, her eager eyes watching his every movement.

Breaking Sansa down, forcing her to enjoy sex with him was much easier than anticipated. The fiery female, once rebellious and resistant, was now whimpering in pleasure. Ramsay talked a big game, but he knew how to back it up, as evident right now in Sansa’s throes of pleasure.

The pace was slowly becoming faster, rougher. Yet, the young Lord did not rush things. Ramsay did not wish to truly hurt Sansa. Part of his sadistic pleasure came from making Sansa’s body betray her mind. As badly as she wanted to hate this, she had no choice but to enjoy it.

At this point, Ramsay was getting close to the edge, almost ready to peak. It was largely in thanks to Sansa’s muffled moaning. No words in any language in the world could encompass how sexy she sounded. Ramsay felt his cock throbbing , placing his lips back upon hers.

His tongue continued to massage her lips while his fingers attacked her clit. He fully intended to bring his wife over the edge first. Now, he had a decent idea of her sensitive areas, within her vagina, so he focused his thrusting there, letting his cock massage against those special areas within her.

Sansa groaned as she felt his mouth on hers, his constant penetration and rubbing of her click was overwhelming. She whimpered and felt her body start to shake slightly. She felt something coming as her inner walls started to contract. In an instant she cried out, her body arching towards Ramsays, her breasts pushed hard against his scratchy shirt.

It took her several moments to come back down from that high, her hips collapsing back down on the ground. She panted as her body jerked a few times in memory of the pleasure that had just bashed its way through her body. Her face turned red with embarrassment and she turned her head away so as not to look at him.

Perfect. This was going just like Ramsay wanted. After Sansa peaked, he felt his erection coated with her warm honey. That, combined with a few, final sexy moans that Sansa released brought Ramsay over the edge. With one final deep, piercing thrust, his cock burst, allowing his hot semen to fill her up completely.

While having the orgasm, Ramsay kissed the female over the gag once again, making sure the kiss was passionate as he held their lips together, feeling like his entire body was on fire even if there was snow and cold everywhere around them. Damn. This was perfect. It was better than anything he could have ever wanted. “That felt so good, my lady. I do regret waiting so long before we did this.” He whispered into her ear, crashing over her body, just resting over his wife.

When she felt him continue to move, she felt the fire within her being stoked again. She gasped as he moved within her and when she was close to her own peak, he flooded her, making her cum hard around him, so much so that her knees squeezed his hips.

She relaxed again and felt completely spent. She accepted his kiss, and without thinking about it, returned it with equal fervor. It was only as her mind started to return to her that she realized exactly what she had given up, not just physically but mentally and emotionally.

The weight of him on top of her body was pleasing and part of her wanted to smile and laugh and be happy, as her release had lessened her tension considerably. However, it was the knowledge of him actually getting his way that bothered her.

“I’ve always been a good actress…” She whispered back to him, hoping it would cause him doubt in his skill and virility.

“I don’t doubt your acting skills. What I do doubt, however, is the ability to make yourself cum, to fake those noises. You don’t fool me.” Ramsay winked at the redhead.

“I suppose we should get inside now. We’ll no longer be sleeping in separate rooms, though. I would get used to being close to me.”

Ramsay calmed down, pulling himself out of Sansa. Standing upright, he reached down, pulled up his pants, and pulled Sansa to a standing position.

“I think you should walk back to our chambers like this. I do enjoy seeing you like this. It’s going to make me never want to free you.”

Ramsay reached down, to grab both of her bound hands, tugging her along with him. The gag was still secured, too. It was not like anyone would see them. Even if they did, it was not necessarily a horrible idea for them to see how in-control Ramsay was, that the Stark girl had nothing.

When he pulled out of her she felt the instant void it left. She had odd feelings about it but she closed her legs quickly nonetheless. When he pulled her up she moved to closed the remains of her dress but Ramsay spared little time in grabbing her hands.

He led her through the Godswood, the court yard, past the sept and then finally into the great hall. While there hadn’t been that many people out in the cold evening air, there were enough to make her body and face burn red with embarrassment. Given the state of her clothing and her person in general, there could be no mistaking what had happened. She had been claimed by her lord and master.

They went up the stairs and into the room that had once been her parents, now claimed by her new husband. She managed to yank her hands way from him and proceeded to untie the gag around her head. Her tongue moved in her mouth, trying to work some kind of moisture into her tongue. She then wiggled a hand free from the belt he had used to restrain her, took it off and tossed it on the bed near him.

She went to the small table near the window and poured herself some wine from the decanter that sat there. She picked up the matching goblet and sipped it, glad to have the sticky dryness finally leaving her tongue.

“I will sleep in my own chambers,” she said, not so much as an order but as a matter of fact, “All my things are there. If you wanted me to sleep here you should have thought about that.

She drained the goblet and then poured another. Her body was starting to feel sore now, not so much because he hurt her, because to her own surprise, he didn’t, but from the inescapable pain of having her maiden head ripped from her.

“With your permission,” she began as sarcastically as she could, “I am going to bath and then go to my room.” She punctuated her statement by draining the goblet and setting it down heavily on the wooden table that Ramsay now stood by. She looked him over for a moment longer than she wished. She couldn’t understand why such cruelty, if the rumors were true, could be harbored in something so beautiful and handsome. With that thought, she turned to leave the room.

Well, damn. Seeing Sansa slip out of the belt and the gag was quite disappointing. She had no right to choose when she was untied, when she was not gagged. It would slide for now. After all, the belt was not exactly a good restraint. In the future, when Ramsay was better prepared, it would end differently. Ropes. A real gag. Ramsay knew that she would not always have such success escaping. The room used to be her parents’ room, because it was the one master bedroom set aside for the Lord and Lady of Winterfell. It was now their room. Perhaps, it was even more degrading to the female to know that this was now her room, but not in the happy way that it could have been on different under circumstances.

“I apologize, my Lady. I forgot that you were allowed to make that decision for yourself.” There was sarcasm in his voice, a wicked smirk on his lips. “You’re going to sleep in here. I will move what you need into our room for the night. You will get everything else moved tomorrow. You do not have the right to sleep in your own chambers.” That right was not stripped from Sansa.

“There is a bath you may use within these quarters. Get started. There are already soaps and cloths and towels you have at your disposal.” There was a dominant air in this voice. There was no stop in his voice, walking out towards the door. Once he stepped outside, the male closed and locked the door, keeping Sansa locked into the room. The only way out was a window, but it led nowhere. Meanwhile, Ramsay went to her old quarters and called for a few of the maids to help him clean it out. Whatever the Lady normally needed for her nightly and morning routine, he needed to get. The male also decided to leave her without any clothing at all, so she would be forced to sleep with him – nude.

After collecting the things, he returned to the quarters and entered the room, placing the boxes of her things onto the bed, still intent on her being with him. There was nothing she could do about it.

Sansa stood, staring at the door, her hands squeezed into fists as she started at the now locked door. She fantasized about slapping the living hell out of him, though realized that this would be a difficult task considering he was now “safely” on the other side of the door.

She walked into the bathing room incensed. She had planned to take a bath anyway for but she was sure he would chalk it up to her bowing to his desires. Desires. That was another thing she didn’t want to think about. The large bathing pool had been filled with hot water and she removed her clothes before slowly stepping into it.

The hot water felt good around her body, especially the soreness between her legs. She dunked her head under the steaming water and came back up slicking her hair back. The comfort she found in being home was taken away by the circumstances in which she and Winterfell now found themselves.

She reached for a bottle of hair oil and scrubbed it through her thick read mane. The scent was familiar and she held the vial near her nose and inhaled the scent again. Clearly some of the original staff were still here. She allowed herself a small smile before moving to wash the rest of her body.

By the time she had stepped out and wrapped a towel around her body. She heard the door unlock and she rushed from the bathing to see Ramsay returning with a few of her things. She knew there was no way of getting out of this and she didn’t think it was a battle worth fighting for now. She remained unfazed and started looking through the boxes.

“Where are my dressing gowns?”

Dressing gowns? Ramsay wanted to snort, but he held back. “Why would you need those?” The male questioned, as if it were truly a dumbfounding anecdote.

“You have no reason to be dress tonight, Sansa. You are sleeping in a bed with your husband – your husband, who particularly enjoys skin-on-skin contact, cuddling.”

How could a sadistic man like cuddling? It was a good question, but it just represented how esoteric Ramsay was. There were a number of things about him that did not quite add up. So, with that in mind, he simply sat all of her boxes back down onto the ground, since there was nothing else that could be of use to her.

“Get used to it. You will never sleep with an article of clothing on your body again.”

Another direct order. Even if Sansa wanted to disobey, there was nothing for her here. Without saying anything, the young man pulled the towel down, removing it from her body, dropping it onto the floor.

“After all, why would you want to hide such a glorious body from your husband? I don’t think you realize how attractive you are, my Lady.”

Ramsay intended to give her a break. They consummated, she bathed, that was all he needed for right now. There was work to do tomorrow. “Go ahead, get into bed. Get comfortable and settled in. I’ll join you once you have picked your spot.” Ramsay knew this was probably uncomfortable, terrifying for her, but he was going to show her a mix of softness and roughness, part of that was cuddling, as he quite enjoyed the sentiment.

She gave him a perplexed look at he mentioned cuddling. She had no idea why anyone would cuddle their spouse, especially given the circumstances in which their union came about. The thought of being nude in front of him now made her skin flush again with embarrassment. It had been bad enough to be so exposed in the Godswood, but at least it had been dark there. Here, there was a roaring fire and candles lit.

Before she could think on it further, her towel was ripped way, causing her to let out a small “yipe” and dive under the blankets of the bed, pulling them up high to her neck. When he told her to settle in she thought he had gone mad. How did one flip the coin so easily?

She laid on her side, ensuring that the blankets were tucked around her in such a way that she was completely covered. Unceremoniously, of course, Ramsay joined her and all she could feel was his skin against the back of her body, not to mention a few other parts.

Her muscles were tense since she didn’t know what to expect from him, but given the nights activities, she was too exhausted to keep her eyes open and soon fell asleep.

Joining Sansa on the bed, Ramsay pulled the redhead’s back against his chest, her head resting just beneath his chin. His arms were locked around the girl’s abdomen, and his legs were resting close to hers. Basically, they were just about as close as they could get. The touch of their bodies, plus the thick comforters, meant that it was going to be a comfortable, warm night.

Ramsay stayed asleep all night, having a dreamless night. He woke from his slumber the next morning with a knock at the door, one of the servants providing the morning wake-up call. The Lord and Lady of Winterfell needed to get ready for breakfast.

Even if she had woken up due to the knocking, Ramsay decided to plant a kiss to her lips anyways, wanting it to be the first thing that greeted her this fine morning.

“Good morning, my wife. It’s time for us to get up. We need to eat breakfast, then, we have a long day ahead.” He whispered against her ear, his hands now trailing along her shoulders, massaging them even for a split second as he pulled the covers off their bodies.

Ramsay walked to the door and cracked it open, being handed one of her usual breakfast or morning outfits. “You will wear this to breakfast and throughout the day.” Ramsay ordered, placing it down on the bed. “Don’t worry. I don’t intend on ripping that one today.”

Sansa had slept surprisingly well; perhaps the best sleep she had had in ages. It was deep and dreamless, but she was warm and comfortable, and for some reason, didn’t feel scared. She didn’t awake until Ramsay kissed her and it took her a few moments to remember where she was and who was kissing her. She jerked a little at first as she took in her surroundings and then remembered that she was completely naked and in bed with an equally naked Ramsay.

His hands felt good on her shoulders and she couldn’t imagine why he was being so nice to her. She started to relax only to have the blankets ripped from both their bodies. She wondered if she would ever get over the embarrassment of being naked in front of him. She pulled the blanket back over herself and hoped that her cheeks would cool. She watched him walk naked without any sense of embarrassment and started to go through her clothes.

When he wasn’t looking, she looked over his body; it was well formed. The hard angles of his muscle met the softer planes that lead down to his center. Against her will, a flash of last night’s pleasures came to her and she turned red all over again. After that she couldn’t even bring herself to look him in the eyes as he tossed a dress towards her.

“I…will need a servant to help me dress…” She explained as she stood up, wrapping a sheet around her body to try and conserve some of her modesty. She held it closed as she began to search for her under clothes and corset.

It was funny how Sansa seemed to think that modesty was something she could have. How dare a wife deny her husband of seeing, touching her body when he wanted? Ramsay was starting to grow irritated with the woman. Ignoring what she said about needing a servant to help her get dressed, the man snarled and ripped the sheet off her body again.

“You must be dull. What don’t you understand about not covering up? I must have not made myself clear. When we are together, alone, like this – you will not be covered. You will not hide from me.”

To prove his point, Ramsay gripped her wrists and arms, pulling them down to her side so she could not cover her chest or nether region with her hands. Holding them there, he forced the female to maintain the posture.

“We can take a few moments before we leave. You will stand there for me, just like that, no covering yourself, for a few minutes. Then, you can get dressed.”

Maybe it was a type of punishment, for her, to be like this, but that punishment could get so much worse if she resisted again.

“You don’t need a servant to dress you. I can help. Just tell me what you need. You need to understand that you no longer will get your way. You should stop trying to believe it. You’ll only disappoint yourself.” Ramsay responded, looking into her eyes, forcing the female to continue holding that same position.

She wrestled with him a bit as he pulled her sheet away and then put her hands to her sides. Her porcelain skin blushed pink and she finally shoved him away from her, though it took some doing.

“Don’t EVER call me dull” she told him, daggers in her eyes.

She remained naked as he had requested, doing her best not to think about the way he was probably looking at her. After she had found everything she needed, which took several minutes, she started to dress. She slipped on her panties and shift and then handed him her corset, more forcefully than she would have if it had been anyone else. She used the moment to steal a quick glance of his own nude form before turning around and putting her back to him.

“Wrap it around me and then lace it up the back.” She told him begrudgingly. “Am I to have no one to dress my hair either?”

Following instructions, Ramsay assisted Sansa with getting dressed. Unfortunately, Ramsay knew nothing about preparing the Lady’s hair, so that was something a servant may need to help with.

The point, after all, was allowing Ramsay to see her body, to touch her even more. He felt like that objective was met. “Do not worry, my Lady. Someone will arrive shortly to assist with your hair.”

Before pulling away, after tightening the corset, the male pressed his lips against Sansa’s neck, his hands resting on her waist from behind.

“This will be your new morning routine. I suggest you get used to it.” After pulling away, Ramsay unceremoniously dressed himself and prepared for the day while allowing one of the maids inside to help his wife with her hair. Soon enough, they were both ready for breakfast, so Ramsay held out his hand towards her, intending for her to take it, even if she did not want to. “Let’s get moving, my Lady.”

She wanted to roll her eyes when he finally acquiesced to her request for someone to dress her hair. It seemed ridiculous for him to dress her and she didn’t understand why he even wanted to help her. Obviously he wanted to see her nude as much as possible, though she supposed that was part of the male condition. It was clear that she was going to have to get used to him seeing her naked and at her most vulnerable.

She felt relieved to finally be dressed, though his kiss made her feel warm. She quickly moved to her dressing table and combed out her hair as a maid was called to dress it. She worked quickly, braiding the top half of her hair and then letting the rest flow freely down her back.

When he held his hand out towards her she was tempted not to take it but then decided that it wasn’t worth the argument that would ensue after it. She took his arm and then walked down to great hall with him. When the table came into view, laid with bread, fruit, cheese, and watered wine, all she could think about was the night before.

She awkward dinner they had shared and the things that took place after. She had allowed herself to give into that walk, and thus, into Ramsay. She knew she had to retain walls if she was to survive this. She wasn’t going to fool herself into thinking that she was anything more than a pawn in his perceived path to glory.

She allowed a servant to fill her charger with food and slowly began to eat. “What are the orders of the day My Lord?” she asked, wondering if he would even tell her what was going to be going on or planned for.

Ramsay held Sansa’s arm all the way down until they reached the dining hall. Upon their arrival, he pulled out a chair for her and pushed it in when she sat down, acting like a true gentleman again. He had shown colors on both ends of the spectrum. At times, he was gentle with her, and it seemed like he genuinely loved her and cared for her. On the other hand, he also showed ruthlessness and did things to her that she could never want.

It was probably confusing for Sansa, but that was the point. Ramsay wanted it to be that way. His table was pulled out by one of the servants, so Ramsay took a seat in front of his full dish, quickly digging into the food. When Sansa asked about the plans for the day, he looked towards the female and debated on whether he should tell her what he needed to do.

In the end, he decided to let her know. It would hopefully work towards being even more confusing towards the redhead. She probably did not expect him to tell her shit, but he was going to anyways.

“There’s word of a few houses that intend to revolt against us, my Lady. I will not allow this to happen. I will send men to investigate. If the accusations are true, then I suppose we will have a few dozen less mouths to feed at sunset.”

Ramsay talked about the killing like it was no big deal, now going from one end of the spectrum to the other, seemingly with no remorse about thinking such a way.

Her sapphire eyes darted up to me Ramsay’s when he mentioned the revolt of the houses. It would seem that there were still some that were loyal to the Starks and perhaps they might help release her from this unwanted marriage. The cold manner in which he spoke of taking lives sent a chill up her spine but she hid it well.

“Would you like me to go with you? Perhaps seeing a Stark back at Winterfell will ease them and decrease the bloodshed. We need live bodies for the harvest and for the coming winter. With the current discord, we will need everyone we can muster to fight on our side should the Lannister’s favor towards us sway,” as if the Lannister’s liked either of them, she thought.

She steadies her hands and continued eating as if her suggestion were no big thing, as if she didn’t care if she went one way or the other. However, to accompany him would gain her much needed information about the current layout of the keep as well as her allies.

“I do believe you should go with me. We do need live bodies. You are right.” Wow. Honestly, Ramsay did not anticipate her having much input. He figured she would be there, wherever he demanded so she did not get punished again. However, regarding giving valid opinions or ideas – he did not expect this, and it was a pleasant surprise.



“You will tell these people that they should bend the knee to House Bolton. You tell them all the good that we will do for them. If they hear it from you, they might listen.” He figured he would use this to his advantage. If she was going to be there, if she wanted to help avoid bloodshed, then she needed to convince these people to listen to him.



If she did not, well, that was more blood on her hands – he knew she did not want that. Ramsay believed that she could be quite helpful to the cause, honestly. “Do you think you can do this for me, my Lady?” He asked, with a fake genuine nature in his voice. She had no choice.

Sansa continued to eat, happy that he had played into her request. It was, of course, a sensible one if he wished to survive the oncoming winter. The Starks had relied on these people for centuries to keep Winterfell stocked and filled with grain when the rough times came. If Ramsay went by himself, they would rather burn it all in spite than give it to him.

“Yes my Lord. Your desires are my command,” she replied, blushing at the word desires. She didn’t know why she had used it. She chose not to think on it for very long. She drained her tankard of watered wine and then had her trencher taken away.

“When would you like to leave my Lord?” She asked as a servant moved her chair back to stand.

Maybe it was blind optimism, but Ramsay believed Sansa was acting less cold toward him today. He saw the look on her face, which he found quite attractive. It did not take long to finish the food before they were ready to get moving together. “Yes, my Lady. I am ready to go.”

He stood up from his chair and turned to face the redhead, extending his hand. Even if she did not wish for him to touch her, she needed to get used to it. Besides, it was important to show this for appearance’s sake, at least.

She was never given credit for this. Ramsay thought she was good for nothing outside the bedroom. “I knew you were intelligent, you’ve impressed me. We may still make a good team, at this rate.”

It seemed that she had managed to do something that pleased him. She was surprised he had even listened or cared about her opinion, but it worked to her advantage to have him trust her. He may have taken her virginity but he would never possess her mind. It was the only tool she had to try and escape this terrible situation.

She took his hand so as to look like she warming up to him and to keep appearances up to his staff. The cogs in her mind were moving en masse to plan what to say, what to do, and how to act to those she hoped to carry favor with. There had to be some way to communicate to them that she was a prisoner and that his marriage had not been one in which she had had a choice. As her mind worked over the facts and several possible moves and outcomes, he complimented her intelligence.

She looked at him, trying to hide the shock that she felt at him caring about her intelligence. As he spoke of being a good team, the muscles in her neck and shoulders relaxed ever so slightly as she tried to think of how to respond to him. She had assumed he had wanted nothing more than an heir, as that was the norm for men in these situations.

“I thought I was no more than a mare to be bare you sons,” she started out, her thoughts less linear in her response that normal, “though I do appreciate that you have considered my thoughts on the matter,” she ended, trying not to sound overzealous and thus negate this positive interaction.

Ramsay did possess her body, but not her mind. In all honestly, Ramsay did not quite care about possessing the latter. As long as he could fuck her when he pleased, not much would bother him. On the other hand, the idea of taking over her mind, too, was fascinating. Just imagining her being so damaged that she had no choice but to think about him all the time – that was flattering.

Time would tell. Ramsay was not too worried about anything. Things, so far, were going according to his plan. He listened to her speak again, knowing that she would do her best to translate, somehow, to the people of Winterfell that she was still his prisoner. Ramsay would do anything he could to avoid that form happening.

“No – I assure you, that’s not all you are. If you thought I only wanted your body to create an heir, you are mistaken.” Unfortunately for Sansa, Ramsay did not only care about that. In fact, he wanted to have some difficulty with getting her pregnant, hoping that it would take a while before the heir was even conceived. He just wanted to fuck her, because she was attractive and he felt aroused thinking about her.

So, she was not only there to bare his sons, but she was his whore, in a way. She might not work in a brothel but men went to brothels for only one reason. Ramsay looked at Sansa with that same reason, for physical pleasure.

“Which reminds me, once the day is over, I do believe you and I will continue from where we left off last night.”