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Sansa awoke in her bed. She was still locked inside her bedchamber, with nothing to do except wait for her daily meals, followed by her nightly torture, rape and beating.
She had been there for weeks now, possibly months, and thus far she had resisted the humiliation of orgasming in front of her new “husband”. She knew that wouldn’t last forever, though, as her body was starting to get used to the torture. The aching of bruised flesh and scabbed-over cuts had become background noise in her brain. When she lied down to rest, her pussy would remember the feeling of Ramsay’s cock inside it, and become wet once more, craving something to fill it up. Unable to sleep with that in her mind, she suffered the private humiliation of fingering herself to the memory. It was shameful, no doubt, but better than having an audience, and far better than having to look at that smug grin of his.
Sun beamed in through the window, onto her naked body. She had forgotten to put her night gown back on before passing out from exhaustion. Having already spent her daily orgasm, she was surprised it was still light out. Though she knew sunset would come eventually, and after dinner, she’d have to deal with… him again. She closed her eyes and began to cry as quietly as possible, so as not to alert the guards that she was awake.
Wrapping herself in a blanket, she headed to the window. She could open and close it at will, but it was a multiple story drop. All this time, she knew there was a way she could kill herself if she truly needed to. The fact that she could choose at least that much was the one thread keeping her sane. It kept her brilliant, tactical mind alive, even as her body and soul dredged closer and closer to the grave.
She lifted one foot and placed it on the windowsill, genuinely wondering if she’d go through with it this time. Before she got the other foot up, she began to wonder: would it even stop him from violating her? Sure, she’d get cold eventually, and sure, she’d spoil eventually, but Ramsay seemed like the kind of man who might ignore that, purely for the sake of angering her spirit.
Before she could answer herself, she heard the all-too-familiar sound of the door unlatching. She hurriedly placed another foot on the windowsill and looked down. The ground below was covered in trails of blood and debris. While some guards were still standing watch, others were picking up the various limbs, heads, and weapons scattered across the floor, and there were overall far fewer than usual. Apparently, she had been so exhausted as to sleep through the dying screams of several guards, as well as whatever caused them. She tried to process this, and figure out what happened, when a pair of hands grabbed her bruised shoulders, causing a jolt of pain to rush through her body. Without a word, these hands pulled her back inside and threw her to the floor of the bedroom, opening closed wounds and making blood seep into the blankets. A guard closed the window, and she heard Ramsay’s voice from the door frame.
“Now, now, my dear, let’s not be too hasty,” her rapist said, “It may be ‘til death do us part,’ but I’m not as eager to part as you. Besides, you wouldn’t want to miss out on your new present, would you?”
Present? She felt sick to her stomach. What in the world could Ramsay get me that would—
She gasped in horror as two guards carried someone in by the shoulders. At first glance, they looked just like another woman, with a red dress, brown leather corset, plump chest, long, black hair, and a white veil over their face. Despite the appearance, she heard a male voice groaning in pain from beneath the veil. A familiar voice. The guards threw the figure to his knees, grabbing his head and pointing his face towards the lady.
Those eyes… She knew them. She did not like how full of tears they were.
“Jon…?”
“Sansa… I—“
Ramsay interrupted him: “You would not believe how difficult it was to capture this one. Bastard went through so many of my men with nothing but a sword. Truly remarkable. We managed to stop it eventually, though, and we even managed to stabilize our intruder before the blood loss could do him in.”
No…
“So I was thinking: you’re probably missing your brother here, right? And he clearly missed you, so I figured, why not have him join us tonight?”
No, no, no…
“Who knows? If this proves entertaining enough, maybe I can avoid killing him for now.”
Damn it!
“Ramsay, please!” she shouted, “You don’t have to do this!”
“Oh, but I do. Foul bastard needs to learn that there are consequences for his actions. Now lay down on the bed.”
She hesitated. Ramsay unsheathed his sword.
“Do it. Or I behead him right here and now.”
With a whimper, she limped towards the bed and laid down on her back, instinctively covering herself still.
“Blankets off. Show him what you possess.”
She gingerly picked up the blanket, letting it drop to one side of the bed. Her bruised and mangled body was a sight to behold, repulsive in color and texture, yet still beautiful in silhouette.
“Head between her legs, Bastard.”
Jon growled.
“Do it. Or I have my men spear her.”
The guards pointed their blades at Sansa’s chest. Jon crawled toward Sansa, doing as Ramsay commanded.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” said Jon.
“Start licking,” said Ramsay.
Jon lifted his veil to allow access to her pussy. She saw his face had been shaved. Slowly, he put his tongue inside, tasting her tangy juices. She squirmed, shaking her head.
“Yes… good…” said Ramsay.
Ramsay sheathed his sword and silently reached for a guard’s spear. Using the hilt, he poked and prodded at Jon’s ass, finding his asshole and twisting it in through the dress.
Jon let out a sound he never had before, somewhere between retching, a grunt, and a moan. Hungry for more, Ramsay lifted Jon’s dress, poking Jon’s balls and smacking his thighs and hips with the spear. Eventually, the temptation became too much. Ramsay went towards Jon, unsheathed his cock, and rammed it into Jon’s ass. The sound came out again, and again with each thrust.
Ramsay motioned for his guards to join the fun. Sansa soon found the sweaty cock of one guard in her mouth, and another being thrust between her breasts. The rubbing against her cuts caused them to bleed once more, lubricating the second guard’s cock. Two guards came between the two siblings, one entering Sansa’s pussy and the other entering Jon’s mouth. With nowhere else to go, the fifth guard entered Jon’s asshole, his dick rubbing against Ramsay’s with each thrust.
Minutes later, both siblings were full of seed. After each coughed and sputtered cum out of their throats, they looked at each other with a profound sorrow in their eyes, uncomfortable with how their bodies were reacting to this treatment. Jon was visibly half-erected, and Sansa visibly wet. Both judged themselves, but neither judged the other, even if they were disgusted by what was happening to them.
Ramsay grabbed Jon by the back of the dress and threw him on top of Sansa, his fabric-padded bosoms meeting her natural ones, and his lips inches away from hers.
“Now kiss,” said Ramsay. Jon and Sansa sucked air in through their teeth, Jon hesitating as he moved his head closer. Sansa almost moved her head away, but regained her senses, aware of what might happen if she refused outright. She sighed and closed her eyes, remaining as still as possible as her brother’s lips descended onto hers.
“Yes, that’s right, whore… Now, use that tongue…”
Each sibling let out a sound, somewhere between a pleading whine and a frustrated groan. Was Ramsay really doing this to them right now? Why couldn’t he just tie them up individually and bludgeon them, like a normal person? Why’d it have to be… this?
Regardless, Sansa’s tongue inched up, entering Jon’s mouth and swirling around his tongue. A profound feeling of disgust flooded the both of them as Jon’s member hardened even further. He raised his pelvis, trying to avoid penile contact, but Ramsay noticed, pushing him back down with the hilt of a spear. Sansa nearly gagged as she felt her brother’s hardness graze against her.
“Move those hips, Bastard. Don’t stop until you’ve painted her stomach…”
Jon cried out in agony. Regardless, he did what Ramsay said, dry humping his own flesh and blood, eyes closed to avoid seeing her face. Sansa felt every thrust like a punch to her already-bruised stomach, a part of her feeling almost betrayed by Jon doing so. Consciously, she knew he was coerced, and deep down, she knew that she’d do the same to save him. In the moment, though, a part of her began to see Jon the same way she saw Ramsay’s guards.
After what felt like an hour, a pitiful amount of seed oozed out from Jon’s member, and onto Sansa’s belly. They must have emptied his tank once or twice before bringing him up there.
“Lick her clean…”
With a whimper, Jon began to lick his own seed off of her stomach, tasting the bitter saltiness. Once done, he turned to Ramsay, who gave a motion to continue. Jon licked the guards’ cum off of her clavicle, neck and face, then the blood off of her breasts. With nowhere else to clean, his tongue entered her pussy once more. Sansa squirmed once again, her pussy tightening and convulsing around Jon’s tongue. Sansa didn’t like it, but somehow, she was inches away from orgasm, barely holding it together.
Once she was clean, Ramsay chimed in again: “Now, on your back. Sansa, dear, return the favor.”
Sansa groaned, cleaning Jon’s face, then his ass. Once finished, she noticed a tiny bit of cum on the underside of Jon’s member. She turned to Ramsay, who gave motion to continue.
With hesitation, she licked her brother’s cock, trying her best not to vomit.
“Take the whole thing in your mouth, dear.”
Sansa twitched, and slowly took the head in her mouth, before she felt the hand of a guard shove her down to the base, teeth scraping against her brother’s penis. As Jon cried out in pain, Ramsay made his way over to Jon, taking his blade and slicing through Jon’s neck in one fluid motion.
Jon’s head fell to the ground. Blood gushed from the wound, pooling on the floor as his head bounced and rolled. His body writhed, spasmed, and jerked around as the guard continued to hold Sansa’s face against Jon’s pelvis. The body thrusted, and Sansa felt his cock pulsing as if something was shooting out, and yet his balls had been empty, so nothing did.
Sansa screamed in both horror and anguish as she put together what had happened. Jon’s head stared up at his body, feeling nothing but sheer confusion as the darkness swallowed him whole. The guard pulled her head up and forced it back down a few times, forcing her to fellate someone she now knew to be dead. Despite herself, her body trembled, knowing one more thrust would finish her off. Sensing this, Ramsay ordered the guard to stop, and he let go.
Sansa pushed herself off of Jon’s body, taking in a breath of air, before she turned to Ramsay:
“How could you do this?!” she yelled.
“Someone needed to,” said Ramsay.
Sansa balled her fist and swung it at him. It collided with his cheek, hard and fast from adrenaline, yet weak from weeks of atrophy and captivity. Ramsay kicked her in the stomach, forcing her back onto the bed, then held his sword to her neck.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Now are you going to behave yourself?”
Sansa tensed. She wanted to fight back, and bait him into ending her suffering, but much like those times at the window, her survival instincts prevented her body from moving. After a few seconds, she let herself go limp.
“Do it…” she choked out, “Please… just let me die…”
“Your words and your actions tell me two different stories, my dear,” Ramsay said, with a shit-eating grin on his face, “but fine…”
He lifted his sword. “One final task, and then I’ll let you go.”
Sansa sniffed, looking at him in waiting.
“Mount him,” said Ramsay, “I can tell you’re close. Spend your last orgasm on the dead bastard’s cock, and you shall never have to see me again.”
Sansa looked at Jon’s corpse, a guard had tied a leather string around Jon’s penis, keeping it erect despite the loss of blood. She clenched her fists, gathered her resolve, and lowered herself onto Jon’s motionless shaft.
“Hahh… haaah!”
She felt deeply ashamed at the noises she was making, flushed with guilt and necrophilic lust as she got herself back to where she’d been a moment ago, then let it all out. Clear fluid erupted from her parts, squirting onto her brother’s dead body, her voice echoing a sound of simultaneous pleasure, disgust, fear, and anguish.
Ramsay, true to his word, brought his blade through Sansa’s neck, watching it fall onto her brother’s chest, face-first into the padding. Blood spurted from her neck, coating her breasts, stomach and thighs. Much like her brother, her body jerked around, thrusting up and down upon his cock like her corpse had gone into heat. Her body squirted a second time, arched its back, and then fell limp upon Jon’s.
Ramsay stepped back, taking a moment to admire his handiwork. After, he spoke once more:
“Men, take these unruly whores to the larder. We’re having soup tonight!”
One guard grabbed each head by the hair, while the others lifted the bodies, two limbs per guard. As Ramsay watched them carry the dead out of the room, he smiled.
He looked out over the window. The bodies outside had been picked up. The bloodstains, while they’d be hard to remove, were currently being mopped nonetheless. As a fresh bucket was being brought out, he saw that they were using lye.
Ramsay took a large inhale as more servants came into the room to clean the more recent mess, then sighed in contentment. As he strutted out, he smacked one slave’s pussy through her dress, chuckling at her sudden pain and surprise.
The slave froze in terror, staring into the middle distance as she wondered if she’d be next.