The Hound saved Sansa…again.
The riot, the mob. The men. Sansa was almost brought to hysterics just thinking about it. Being brought to some dirty alley, pinned down and at the mercy of those who wanted to do her harm - to take her maidenhood.
But the Hound saved her. He always saved her. From the mob, from the king, from herself. All her childhood she sang songs and read poems about dashing knights saving princesses from danger, sweeping them off their feet. She wasn't a child anymore, and the Hound wasn't a knight, nor did he sweep her off her feet, yet he saved her all the same, time after time.
She was always thankful, but she was also guilty. Sandor wasn't a happy man. In fact he might have been the most miserable person Sansa had ever met; scarred inside and out. And she was just another burden to him, one of many he shouldered. She wished she had something, ANYTHING to offer him, but she was nothing more than a prisoner in fine dresses. She had nothing.
Nothing besides the weapon all women have.
Sandor wasn't sure why the little bird had called for him.
Shae, the imp's little "servant" told him Sansa wanted him in her rooms. Sandor was technically a Kingsguard man now, but he found the job to actually be insultingly easy. From all the Castle Guard, Citywatch and other self-serious twats milling about, Sandor often found he could slip away and drink. In fact that's what he was in the process of doing before he was interrupted. Still, he'd see what the girl wanted; likely wanted to shower him with thank you's as she often did.
He arrived at her room swiftly, knocking on the door. He heard shuffling in the room, and a moment later the door opened slowly. Sansa looked up at him, a tall girl she may be, but Sandor was giant. She looked nervous - the Hound found she was often nervous around him, any sane person would be, but this was different. He frowned as she just stood in the doorway a moment, staring at him, something he hated.
"You call me all the way up here just to gawk at me?" Sandor bit out, irritated. Sansa snapped out of her trance, and bowed her head in embarrassment.
"No, of course not ser. Please come in." Sansa said quickly, moving aside for him
Sandor narrowed his good eye at the girl before brushing past her, grumbling "Not a ser." He walked to the center of the room before turning to Sansa, looking at her expectantly. Sansa stared at the ground, fisting two hands full of her pink dress, and fidgeting.
"Little bird, what am I doing here?" Sandor huffed after a moment of watching the girl seemingly squirm. Sansa slowly looked up, biting her bottom lip. The girl had grown over her time in King's Landing. Lips were fuller - so were a lot of things about her. Her breast had grown and swelled in her blossoming, filling her dresses ever so lovely, and her thighs had thickened in the likeness of her mother and aunt, a Tully gene. Sandor liked looking at her, but he liked to do so from afar, not with her standing right in front of him, scared out of her wits.
"I-" Sansa began, finally working up something inside herself to look Sandor in the eyes. "I wanted to thank you…for saving me from those-"
Sansa couldn't even finish the word.
"Aye girl, you've thanked me a dozen times now." Sandor snorted. "It's my job, little bird."
"Joffrey didn't tell you to come back for me." Sansa said shaking her head. "He left me there, left me there to die. To- YOU came back for me."
Sandor just shrugged his large shoulder. "Aye, I did. And you've thanked me. So why am I here?"
Sansa mustered the courage she spent the last few hours collecting. She walked across the room quickly. Sandor didn't get an opportunity to ask what the devil she was doing, before she sprang to her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a hard kiss to his mouth.
Sandor didn't kiss her back as she clumsily worked her lips against his - he was too stunned to do anything. This was not something his brain could process. A young, beautiful lady kissing his ugly scarred face. Oh he had fantasies about it, not a man in the castle hadn't had a fantasy about the eldest Stark girl, but this was the real - the flesh. Sandor didn't know how long had actually passed before he regained his facilities, and pushed the girl off of him. He grabbed her roughly by the shoulder, harder than he needed to, causing her to wince.
"What the FUCK do you think you're doing?" He growled at her. Sansa recoiled a bit at the sound of his voice, eyes growing wide, and searching all over his face.
"W-was it not to your liking?" Sansa asked softly.
Sandor's eyebrow shot to the middle of his forehead. He wondered if the fever had taken the girl's mind. The girl looked like she was going to start crying as Sandor just stared at her.
"Why am I HERE?" Sandor repeated, shaking Sansa's shoulders a bit.
"I'm trying to thank you." She said softly., casting her eyes to the ground. Suddenly, Sandor's hands left her shoulders. She glanced upwards, to see him looking at her in a way she'd never before. He looked scared of HER.
"Ser" Sansa said gently, rubbing her hand on his arm.
"No." Sandor snapped, jumping back like it was fire. He tried to move past her, to escape this scene he had no idea what to do in. Sansa panicked and grabbed him by the arm with both hands. Sandor could have easily kept walking, dragging her along, or broken out of her grip, but he froze stock still when he held him.
"Sandor please-" Sansa tried.
"What game is this?" Sandor asked, not looking at her. "Have you been taking lessons from Cersei?"
Sansa actually straightened up, taking some offense to his words. She raised her chin and tried to be bold. "This is no game, Sandor. You've saved me - so many times. Times where I didn't even know I needed saving. You've come for me without a second thought, treated me decently, never tried to hurt me. I-I have nothing in this world anymore. Nothing I can give you. Nothing but the gift all women ha-"
"You're not a WHORE" Sandor barked, snapping his head to the side to look at her. Surprisingly, she didn't balk, meeting his gaze with a fiery resilience he hadn't seen in her.
"No, not a whore." She said, shaking her head. "You're not paying for me. You don't owe me anything. It's me who owes you. I'm still alive because of you."
"Alive to be Joffrey's plaything." Sandor replied bitterly.
"Alive to hope." Sansa countered. "Allowed to dream and wish that I'll one day be free. That's all I have left, and that's thanks to you."
Sansa leaned in, pressing her chest to Sandor's arm. He couldn't feel it through the armor on his arms, but the very implication of her soft breasts coming into contact with him, caused his breath to go ragged. Sansa looked up at him with big hopeful eyes, eyes that wanted his acceptance, eyes that didn't want him to reject her.
"Sansa, you need to let me go." He said raggedly. "You don't know what you're doing."
"You're right, I don't." Sansa whispered, "but you do."
"I'm not a good man."
"I know you won't hurt me. You never have, no matter how you try to scare me away."
Sandor didn't like how she saw right through him. He turned to face her fully. She still held onto his large arm, looking up at him.
"Sansa. If you don't let go of me right now, there is no going back.: Sandor warned, voice low. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Sansa gulped, confidence wavering, only a bit before nodding her head.
"I understand Sandor."
Sandor's face went to his typical hard expression. "So be it. On your knees."
Sansa looked at him in confusion. "My knees? Wouldn- wouldn't this work better on the bed?" She asked, face going red.
"I'm not taking your cunt." Sandor said, voice not harsh, just stating a fact. Sansa recoiled at the harsh term regardless. "Can't risk it, if anyone were to find out. You can thank me in other ways."
Sansa admittedly was at a bit of a loss. She intended to just lie back and allow Sandor to do with her as she pleased - she figured it was the easiest way for all involved, but the Hound seemed to have something else in mind. Not knowing what else to do, Sansa dropped to the hard ground right there in the middle of the room. She looked up at him with big nervous eyes, the kind that made Sandor's cold heart that just a bit, and his cock twitch.
"Do you know of pleasing a man with your mouth?" Sandor questioned.
Sansa's eyes darted downwards, and she chewed on her plump lip. "I-I've heard my brother, and out ward Theon speak of it, when they thought I couldn't hear them."
Sandor actually chuckled a bit.
"I'm sure those bumbling boys didn't give you anything very informative." Sansa looked up at him and shook her head. "Well you're going to learn today, maybe your future husband will appreciate it."
Sansa knew he was being harsh to try and dissuade her, but she simply looked up at him, waiting for his instructions. Sandor stared back down at her, and slowly moved the bottom of his mail shirt away with one hand. Sansa's eyes snapped to his breeches, and the outline of something big within them. With his other hand, Sandor began to undo the front of his breeches. Sansa hadn't realized that her breathing had quickened, both in nervousness and excitement. This would be her first time properly seeing a man's penis - least in favorable conditions. Her eyes were glued to the front of his pants as he untied them, and pushed them down his hips.
Sansa wasn't sure what she expected when his cock flopped out of his pants. To call it massive would be an understatement, but Sansa supposed she had nothing to compare it to. Sandor was massive, so in turn it was. It was thicker than her forearm, hanging low, with a strong pair of testicles underneath. It looked nothing like the diagrams her Septa had shown her. The pictures never could have accounted for how it twitched, and the subtle veins, ripples and movement of it. One thing that shocked Sansa was how…perfect it was; symmetrical, and smooth. Sansa somehow put it in her head that Sandor would be cleaved down the middle, one half unblemished, and the other scarred like his face. But his cock was nothing like that - a bit darker than the rest of his body, and had the same unruly hair at it's base as he had on the top of his head, but there wasn't a thing wrong with it. Again, she had nothing to compare it to, but to her, it looked perfect.
Sansa stared at it a moment longer, before Sandor got her attention by clearing his throat. She shook herself from her daze and looked back up at him.
"What should I do?" She whispered softly.
"Touch it." Sandor said gently. So she did. Reaching out a tentative hand, she pressed her fingertips to the head. It twitched, scaring her slightly, but she pressed on. It was warm to the touch, and his skin was surprisingly soft. She ran the flat of her hand along a vein running up the side, thick and pulsating. She did it back and forth several times, before Sandor grunted, grabbing her attention.
"Wrap your hand around it, Sansa." He said gruffly. Something about the way he said her name made her want to nod her head feverishly, but she resisted the impulse. She did as she was told, lifting his manhood so she could hold it in her hand. It was heavier than she thought, denser. She actually struggled a bit holding it up. "Stroke it"
Sansa once again obeyed, slowly running her hand back and forth along his length, from tip to base. Sansa was fascinated how the skin moved, how he slowly became harder and harder in her hand, until it was like holding steel - so hard and rigid, yet still soft to the touch. Her finger didn't even fully circle around his girth as he came to his full hardness.
"Something's coming out the front!" she gasped, as pre-cum accumulated at his slit. Sandor laughed in his throat, a sound that made Sansa shiver involuntarily.
"It's nothing girlie." He reassured. "Helps make things wet; slick."
"I-is wet good?"
"Aye, wet is very good."
With new information in hand, Sansa brought her hand to his cock tip. She pressed her palm to his slit, and rubbed it in small circles, smearing his pre-cum on the center of her palm. Sandor groaned loudly, and Sansa decided right then that she LOVED that sound. With her hand slickened, she ran it back over the length of his cock, seeing it was now easier with his natural lubricant. Her hand moved faster on his length, spreading his precum all over it, rubbing and pulling. Sandor's groans sent spikes of unfamiliar pleasure to Sansa's core, ones that felt dirty, but truly honest.
"Wetter, it needs to be wetter." Sandor groaned. Sansa furrowed his brow at him.
"How?: she questioned earnestly.
"Spit on it."
"What?"
"You heard me. Spit on it." Sandor repeated.
"T-that's crude." Sansa sputtered.
"Everything about this is crude." Sandor laughed. "Might as well go all the way. Now spit on my cock."
The crude order nearly made Sansa moan out loud. It was so demanding, so demanding, so Sandor. She looked at his cock twitching in her hand and she made up her mind. Working her mouth back and forth, she accumulated a generous amount of saliva in her mouth, before leaning forwards and -
PTTTTTPF
She spat right on this cockhead, saliva dripping down the side. She brought her hand up and gathered the spit in her hand before trailing it back down his length. He was right, it made things wetter and easier, her hand gliding over his cock with little resistance. She was able to stroke him at a fast pace, the wet squelching and the sound of the groans in his throat filling the room. Sansa stared at his cock intently as she jerked him off, listening to his sounds as indication that she was doing a good job and what he liked. When she felt she needed more lubricant, she spit on him again and again, slathering his cock with her saliva, all worries of crudeness leaving her mind. She eventually brought both hands to his length, figuring it would be easier to cover it, working her small hands back and forth in tandem, experimenting with speed, twisting her wrists, and spreading her fingers out. All the while he groaned and moaned, little blessings to Sansa's ears. This wasn't the best handjob Sandor had technically - Sansa was clumsy, and her rhythm was all off, but the fact that it was HER - his little bird. Well that was worth way more than any skill Littlefinger's whores had.
"S-ser." Sansa said tentatively, not stopping her hands even as she spoke and looked up at him. "Should- Do you want me to keep doing it like this?"
Sansa's arms were getting tired. It had been ten minutes with no indication that Sandor was anywhere near his release. Sansa was worried she was doing a bad job.
"No girl." Sandor said "Time for the next step."
Sansa nodded her head earnestly.
"Use your mouth." Sandor ordered huskily. Sansa gulped, eyes darting from his cock to his face.
"I-I don't know how." She said honestly.
"Do what feels natural." Sandor encouraged gently. "Do what you'd think I'd like."
It was daunting having the responsibility put on her, but this was her gift to him - the only way she could thank him. Sansa shuffled on her knees forward a few inches so she was even closer to his throbbing rod. She leaned forward to examine his cock, almost analytically. Choosing a course of action, she brought her head to the side of his length, where the long vein resided. Experimentally, she stuck out her pink tongue, and ran it along the vein. She decided she didn't mind the taste of Sandor, a bit salty, but he kept himself surprisingly clean. She looked up at him to gauge his reaction, which was him throwing his head back and emitting a loud "Fuck!"
That was all the approval she needed. She ran her tongue along the vein again, back and forth. She licked both sides of his manhood, before lifting it up with her hand so she could lick the underside, starting at the balls and working her way to the tip.
Sandor wasn't sure what god he managed to please in his life recently to have them gift him with a beautiful girl who apparently was a natural at tonguing his cock. He wasn't sure that he wouldn't at any moment wake up in his bed, having this all be a dream.
Feeling even bolder, Sansa began pressing open mouth kisses along his length, as if to award it, praising his cock. In a way she was - doing it was attached to the man who had done so much for her, it deserved all the loving and affection she could give it.
Eventually Sansa pulled back, as slightly glazed over, Wetness had formed between her legs, hidden by her dress. "Am i doing good?" Sansa asked innocently, yet her voice husky.
That snapped something in Sandor, who growled like a hound. He bent down slightly, grabbing the front of her dress, and yanked down hard, ripping the material and causing her beautifully full breasts to spill out. She gasped in surprise, before Sandor knelt down even further, grabbing the fabric covering her lower half and tearing it as well.
Sandor froze at the sight, shocked to see the wetness accumulated between her legs. He looked up at Sansa, who tried to avert her gaze, but he grabbed her chin and made her her look at him.
"Seven Hells, you're getting off on this." He rasped out. Sansa didn't respond, not trusting herself to speak. She didn't try to deny it. "You're perfect girl, a perfect little bird."
Sansa's heart fluttered at his praise, and she perked up, inadvertently pushing her exposed bosom out to him appreciatively. Sandor stood back to his full height cock bouncing as he did. With one hand, he reached out and took a gentle hand full of Sansa's hair, a makeshift ponytail - not pulling hard enough to hurt her, but enough to command her.
"You're going to take my cock in my mouth proper now, do you understand?"
Sansa just mutely nodded, willing to take whatever he gave her at this point.
With his other hand, Sandor grabbed the base of his cock, and held it firm. Sansa didn't need to be told to open her mouth, splitting her lips as wide as she could in an o shape. The tip of Sandor's cock filled her mouth, and Sansa immediately sealed her lips around it. She didn't now much of what to do, so she just suckled on it like a babe, rubbing her tongue along the underside of it. Sandor was satisfied just holding her there, allowing her to get familiar with it in her mouth before moving forward. Eventually, pulling her forward slightly, Sansa's jaw stretched, taking more of him in. Sansa's mouth had never been so full, she didn't even know it could stretch the way it was. Sandor's cock was all she could taste, smell, all she could experience.
"That's it Sansa." Sandor praised. "Take me in."
Sansa did just that, doing what she could to cram his cock into her wet mouth. She wasn't even halfway down and she didn't think she could go any further - but Sandor didn't let up, pushing her deeper onto his length, until his cockhead entered her throat.
"HRRUCKK!" She gagged loudly, spit, running down the corners of her mouth and chin. Sansa began to panic. She couldn't breathe, she didn't think she could go any further. Luckily for her, Sandor seemed to have a merciful streak in him, pulling her back to allow her to take a deep breath through her nose. He set a gingerly pace with his grip on her hair, bobbing her head up and down on his hard rod.
"That's it princess." He praised. "Just like that - suck hard on the way back."
Sansa nearly came right then and there at being called princess. She obeyed him, looking up at him with watery, submissive doe eyes, doing what she could to please him, to bring him any pleasure she could. Occasionally Sandor would pull her down further on his length, testing her limits, seeing how much of him she could take. Despite what she might have thought of herself, Sansa was a brave girl, and she took the challenge with stride, relaxing her throat to slide more and more of him in. She never got all the way down, but Sandor didn't care. He was in a heaven he'd thought he'd never be in.
Sandor took all the pleasure he could from her hot mouth. Allowing her to suck hard on him and run her tongue all over, bulging out her cheeks with his cockhead, having her lavish his balls with her tongue. Sansa lacked traditional skill, there was no doubt about it - but she made up for it in sheer enthusiasm and will to please.
"Gods, you're just a perfect little cocksucker." Sandor moaned as he continued to bob her head roughly on his cock. Sansa simply moaned and gagged around him in response, bubbles of spit popping from her nose and mouth. Sandor felt he was close in the pit of his stomach, near half an hour of her oral pleasure before he was finally ready for his release. Tightening his grip on her hair, moving her even faster on his cock.
"MmphMmphHruckGLUCK" She gagged loudly, spit and drool flying from the corners of her mouth now.. Sansa placed her hands between her legs, cunt aching for her fingers, but she held herself off, this was about his pleasure, not hers.
Suddenly, with a roar, Sandor's balls tightened, and he unloaded in her mouth. Sansa was not at all prepared for the first shot of his massive load and as a result, his cum shot out the seams of her mouth. Eyes widening, and realizing what was happening, Sansa began to swallow and swallow, working her throat to drink down his seed as quickly as it came. Her eyes near rolled into her head as her mouth was constantly flooded with his hot seed - it was overwhelming her senses.
Eventually, Sandor's orgasm subsided, and his spurts pittled out. Sansa gave another hard suck of his cock, earning her another mouthful of his cum to swallow down. Sandor was breathing heavily, head tilted upward and eyes screwed close. Sansa was gingerly bobbing her head on his length, eyes glazed over and unfocused.
"Princess, you're gonna need to stop that, unless you're prepared to go another round." Sandor groaned. The thought wasn't unpleasurable to Sansa, but her jaw did ache fiercely, and she didn't think she could please him as effectively if she was worrying about it. She pulled back off his length with a small *pop*. She licked her lips for any traces of his seed left.
They both stayed there in silence, panting and looking at each other.
"Do you regret that?" Sandor suddenly asked.
"Gods no." Sansa said hoarsely and honestly. Sandor offered her a hand, which she took to stand on her wobbly legs. She hadn't realized they had fallen asleep.
"Do…would you like to do anything else?" Sansa asked, glancing toward the bed.
Gods, the girl would be the death of her.
"No…not today." Sandor said. Sansa looked a bit disappointed, but nodded her head.
"I…I supposed you should go, before you're missed." She said."
"Aye, I should."
Sandor redid his pants, before slowly making his way toward the door. He hoped she meant what she said that she wouldn't come to regret this.
"Sandor." Sansa called out. The large man looked back at her. "This is only part of my thank you. I can never pay you back fully…so make sure to come back so I can continue…. thanking you."