Here it is at long last! Chapter 3! Warning for heavy-duty dubcon in this chapter. If you enjoy, please let me know! :)
Oh, gods, so this is it, Sansa thought to herself, her pulse resounding loudly in her ears. Her neck craned, she was gazing up at the demon's eyes, their odd animalistic quality transfixing her and making it impossible to look away in spite of how much he terrified her. Their irises were a metallic grey, their pupils black and oblong and the yellowish white of them was glowing in the dimness.
A smirk on his lips, the Hound was studying her face leisurely, his stare travelling from her eyes to her hair to her lips even as he kept his huge clawed hand clasped over her shoulder. Then looking down at her body, he frowned as he seemed to notice the injured hand she had cradled against her chest for the very first time. Very gently, he pulled it to him, revealing the large, dark stain of blood that was soaking her nightgown underneath it. Gods, it's good for the garbage, Sansa mused distantly, her head spinning. The view of so much blood - of her own blood! – was making her queasy and her state only worsened as the Hound opened her palm and she saw the deep, gashing cut and wobbly, pale skin surrounding it. For an instant, she feared that she might faint for as much as it hurt and only managed to stay on her feet thanks to the demon's support.
"A pity to see such a flawless hand branded, but a demon has to do what he has to do," he rasped.
Bending over her, he lifted her hand to his face to lick her wound and clean the blood away. His tongue was red, but darker than a mortal's, almost black, and longer too. Once more, Sansa was overwhelmed with revulsion. Against her better judgment, she flinched, but the Hound held her wrist solidly, forcing her to remain in place. When he finally let go of her hand, she noticed the bleeding had stopped and the cut closed. Only an angry red scar and slight throbbing remained, same as if the slash had been days old.
"Take off that shift," he told her, grabbing a handful of her nightgown and lifting it to her hips. "It's dirty anyway…"
Shutting her eyes, Sansa took a deep, shivering breath, but she obeyed in spite of her nerves and pulled her nightgown over her head. This is really happening, she mused in disbelief as the piece of clothe fell to the ground by her side. Underneath it, she only wore a pair of pale blue cotton panties. Never in her life had she felt so exposed and vulnerable. It was the first time she undressed before a man, though whether this creature really could be called a man was debatable.
The Hound grunted appreciatively. "I'm a lucky devil. Could've been summoned by a toothless old hag and yet here you are: young, beautiful… ah, and a maid on top of that…" He snorted and lifted a hand to caress her ribs with his knuckles. "Well, that, you won't stay for very long of course…"
With that, his hand trailed down her side until it had reached her hip. He gripped her panties and, with his long and sharp claws, he pierced the fabric and tore the garment from her body as easily as if it had been made of tissue paper. Sansa let out a small cry and glanced down in shock at what was left of her panties on the floor. Her gaze darted up almost immediately to meet the demon's stare. He was grinning, a scary, rabid grin, and his strange eyes were gleaming in a mix of amusement and desire.
"You'd think that after having been dead for so long, us demons would've learned patience, but no. It actually gets worse," he muttered. Leaning over her, he slid both his hands behind her butt to cup both of its cheeks and mould them vigorously. "No worries, though, you'll get used to it with time," he added in her ear.
His palms were hot to the point that they were nearly burning her skin and the metal bands he had around his wrists were even hotter, yet for all of that, Sansa was shivering just as much as if she'd been cold. She could feel his claws on her skin, hear him breathe raggedly in her ear, and his alien psychic scent as well as his bodily odour, musky and masculine and a bit beastlike too, were overpowering her senses. This was all too much for her and she wished he would leave her in peace, if only for a few seconds at least.
The Hound clearly wanted the opposite though. Straightening his back, he moved his hands up to her waist and pulled her flush against him. His body was as hard as steel, his erection impossible to ignore - a huge and solid bulge against her stomach… Sansa lifted her hands and laid them flat on his torso, same as if she wished to push him away, yet the next thing she knew, his mouth was on hers, his tongue sliding between her lips. Sansa grew stiff and shut her eyes, nevertheless, she didn't resist and let it enter.
While she should have gagged at the thought of that dark tongue exploring her mouth, some odd and irresistible instinct compelled her to move her tongue with his. Sansa didn't understand what was getting into her; she was growing heady, dizzy and light headed and was kissing him back like it was something she thirsted for. She moaned in his mouth, confused and yet unable to stop herself.
And then she smelled it - the strange, telltale metallic odour of black magic. He's casting a spell on me, Sansa realised, stunned. How could he ever be doing something like that? Casting spells on people without their consent was one of the worse crimes possible amongst people of her blood and most witch never learned to do it anyhow.
But the Hound was not one of them of course. He was a demon and he would not know such law, would not care by nature. It was to be expected, Sansa reminded herself. I really shouldn't be surprised that he would use his power unscrupulously. It was true and yet the notion did little to quell the turmoil of contradicting feelings he was rousing in her. She felt used, like she was a mere toy he played with. On the other hand, in the meantime his spell was doing its work on her and compelling her to lean more onto him, to press herself against him and kiss him back ardently. It was disconcerting to have her mind and body at war, one repulsed by the foreign creature that he was even as the other, basic and animalistic, craved for his proximity.
When finally, the Hound let go of her lips, Sansa was momentarily relieved, though she knew worse was to come. The spell he had cast on her was dissipating, she noted, and the coppery scent had lessened. For a few long seconds, they both stared at one another, each panting. While she was undeniably scared, Sansa once more found herself unable to look away from the demon's blazing eyes. She was like a deer in the headlights, hypnotised by their glow.
"You've a mouth made for kissing. 'Taste like the Sevens Heavens…" he commented in a gravelly voice. Cupping her cheek, he flashed her a large, wicked grin and snorted. In the near darkness, his teeth seemed very white, especially next to the grey of his skin. "As if a demon knew what that was like," the Hound commented with a snigger. Narrowing his eyes, he tilted his head to the side and glanced down at her naked curves. "And that little body of yours, I wager it's made for fucking. That's what we'll get to see in a moment. You're going to get it good all night long, little bird. You've been warned."
With that, he clamped his hands to her behind and swung her effortlessly over his shoulder, same as if she weighted nothing at all. Sansa let out a yelp of surprise and shrilled as her face came into contact with his wing. The texture was extremely unpleasant - soft, membranous and sort of sticky. The demon opened it partly to give her space and she gripped her hands after his back before looking down at the moving floor in alarm. Sansa was so high up, perched over him as she was. His hold on her was firm at least, she could tell he would not drop her.
"You mortal prefer to do it in bed, I've heard. As for myself, I'd gladly have deflowered you against the wall, but I'll humour you. Gotta make it good for my little conjuror as well," he rasped. With that, he bent over to let her fall onto her mattress.
Landing on her back, Sansa propped herself on her elbows almost just as soon. Her comforter felt rough to the touch and peeking down at it, she saw it was partly in ashes. It had been burned as the Hound arrived, same as her curtains and furniture.
Then, even as she gazed up at his towering form, the Hound's pants turned to smoke, vanishing from his body and exposing his nudity to her. Sansa's breath caught in her throat as her eyes fell on his dick. It was huge, much bigger than what she had anticipated. She wondered if in life he had been so well-endowed, or if this was part of a devil's attributes, same as the wings and the horns. One way or another, there was certainly something beastly about being so well-hung which did suit a demon to perfection, no matter how much she'd have rather it be different.
His penis was very large and long and darker than the rest of his body, charcoal black, and his balls were the same shade and full. There was dark hair growing around the base of his shaft and a thin line of it went from his groin to his navel. His thighs were just as muscular and sinewy as the rest of him and dusted with dark hair. With wide eyes, Sansa watched him as he closed his fist around his width and started moving it up and down in a fluid motion.
"Ever seen a naked man before, little bird?" he asked lowly.
"No… I mean, yes, but not in person," Sansa replied in a breathless murmur. Suddenly self-conscious, she closed her legs in a vain attempt at modesty. "But you… you're not a man."
Throwing his head back, he barked a rough laugh and shook his head, the movement attracting attention to the set of horns he had over it. "You're right, I'm not. But you'll want no man in your bed after you've known a demon, mark my words."
With that, he climbed over the mattress, the bed creaking in complaint under his weight, and laid his heavy hands on her knees. Though Sansa resisted by reflex, he easily parted them and took place between her legs.
"A pretty sight," he muttered, gazing down at her pussy.
Sansa was blushing like crazy. Demon or not, this was her very first time getting involved in any sort of sexual activity. She had never gone further than making out and being groped through her clothes by Joffrey. To be examined so brazenly, same as of she was a piece of meat the Hound intended to devour at any instant, was certainly nerve-racking.
After he had gotten his eyeful, the demon smirked at her and lowered himself over her. Sansa was once more taken aback by the warmth he exuded. He was burning, like he was feverish, and even though their skins were barely touching, she could feel heat radiate around him. With clawed fingers, he caressed her face and neck, staring down at her intently. Sansa sucked in her breath, her lithe muscles tensing under his touch. His burned face was so near hers she could behold it in all of hideous glory, every gruesome detail of it. There was a hint of bone, visible on his jaw, she noted in revulsion, and the dark, red skin of his scars seemed to ooze.
"Fuck, but you make me hard, little bird. Can you feel it?" he asked in a rough murmur. As he spoke, he swung his hips against her, as if that was needed.
Sansa shut her eyes and bit at her lip. "Yes," she breathed. She could feel him alright. His dick was resting heavily onto her stomach, such a stiff and massive thing between them.
The Hound chuckled, the sound low and grating, and brought his hand to her breasts to mould them vigorously. "Mmm… that's a perky pair of tits you got there, just big enough, firm and juicy like fresh fruits," he commented, pinching her nipples with calloused fingers.
Sansa let out a small squeak and she inhaled deeply as he took one nipple into his mouth. His lips closed around it and he sucked at it greedily, his hand closing around her other breast and claws digging in her skin just enough to sting. A groan escaping her lips, Sansa shook at the acute sensation his cruel mouth was eliciting. The Hound was using his lips, teeth and tongue, restlessly tasting her breast like they were some delicious treat he couldn't get enough of. With his hands, he was pushing them together, his tongue swirling around her nipples and his mouth sucking them until they had turned into a pair of painfully stiff and pointy buds. There was a tightness in Sansa's lower belly which grew increasingly hard to ignore. She frowned, the notion that her body could respond positively to this unnatural creature's ministration perturbing her and sending a shudder down her spine. There was no spell being cast, no excuses…
Then without willing it, Sansa opened her eyes and glanced down at the demon. Horror-struck, she gasped at witnessing the sight he made: a winged monster licking at her breasts with his dark-red, long pointy tongue. His blazing eyes were filled with lust, his horns tilted her way and so near her face, she could see the spirally indentions in them. She whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut, the horror and surrealism of the scene to much for her.
His mouth not leaving her breasts, the Hound trailed a hand down her stomach and brought it to her crotch. He touched her folds, lightly at first, even as he kept suckling at her nipples. When one long finger began sliding into her entrance, Sansa tensed, fearing that his claws would cut her insides, yet it somehow went in smoothly. She squeaked anyway, unaccustomed to the sensation. The demon repeated the motion, coming in and out of her with his digit, and still, there was no real pain, just a faint discomfort that would in all likeness leave no permanent damage. His finger felt big though, and as he dipped it further into her, Sansa wondered how she would ever accommodate his cock when even his index took so much space in her.
His thumb found her clit and, no matter how utterly repelled she still was by the horrific manlike creature above her, Sansa's eyes rolled back in bliss at the contact. The pressure he exerted was unexpectedly light, the pad of his thumb moving in conceit circles over the exact spot she took her pleasure from same as if he knew her body by heart. It was exquisite from the get go and Sansa was taken aback by it, but once more, she knew this was not natural. She was getting heady again, was feeling odd and while it was faint still, the coppery scent of dark magic was back.
As it grew stronger, Sansa's loins were increasingly pooled with warmth. She gasped and moaned as agreeable tremors coursed through her body, emptying her mind of any coherent thought. Soon, she was mewing like kitten, like she had no shame at all, though that wasn't the case of course. Sansa was still aware enough to blush at hearing herself, totally embarrassed and yet unable to control herself.
"Fuck, listen to you, little bird… so bloody eager…" the demon commented in something like amazement, his thumb busy caressing her clit.
Is he mocking me? Sansa wondered from the fog she was in. He had everything to do with her present state and ought not to act like he was surprised by it.
"Tell me you love it. Say it," he demanded against her breasts. His voice was low and husky and his breath tickling her now completely damp nipples.
Without waiting for her to answer, the Hound added another finger in her, the gesture making her sigh audibly. Then, he started moving his two fingers in and out of her even as his thumb kept working on her clit, his touch slow, but firm.
"Go on, girl, speak! Tell me you cannot get enough of this," the Hound insisted in a hoarse whisper. "Or else I'll stop."
Sansa shook her head. "No, please don't," she said weakly, her cheeks burning in embarrassment. Had she really just said that?
"Then make this demon happy and tell me what I want to hear," he rasped, pressing his thumb a little harder over her clit and eliciting a long and languorous lament from her.
While she was undeniably abashed by her own keenness, the words came out of her mouth as if spoken by another much more wanton woman. "Yes… yes… I… I love it…" Sansa finally admitted, barely believing her ears.
"Good girl," the Hound muttered, his voice hushed and filled with want. He thrust his rock-hard dick against her thigh and cursed low in his throat, clearly extremely aroused as well.
As he kept fingering her and playing with her clit, Sansa's moans gradually grew louder and more frequent. While she did masturbate every now and then like any other girl, these feeling this demon was waking in her with his simple ministrations were like nothing she had ever known. It was uncanny and no wonder: the scent of metal was getting heavier still. He was manipulating her, using her.
In a way, and though it surprised her, Sansa realised a very logical part of her welcomed his spell. Thanks to it, his claiming of her would run more smoothly, for she would not act as scared as she felt deep down. While she had taken the conscious decision of going through with this, having sex with this creature was certainly not something she'd have ever wished for. With the Hound's spell, at least she would take pleasure from it. It would feel less like she was being forced, like it was a chore, a sacrifice. She could tell it would be good… it was already. She could hardly contain herself and kept mewing and squirming under him.
"Now, tell me you want me to fuck you. I want to hear you say it," the demon hissed in between two pants.
Sansa bit at her lips. She wasn't so far gone yet as to genuinely want that, still at the point she was at, she might as well give him what he wanted and speak the damned words. It wasn't as if she hadn't agreed to having sex with him anyway and she could tell the Hound would not back down until she had given in to his demand.
"Yes," she murmured, out of breath and vaguely ashamed. "Yes... please do it…"
"Such a polite and well-mannered girl," the demon commented, pleased.
Approaching his face to hers, he looked her in the eyes with the most piercing gaze Sansa had ever seen and dug his fingers deep in her. He curved them just enough to find that sweet spot all the women magazines raved about and rubbed it gently, watching with a satisfied smile as she moaned and squirmed.
"It's coming soon, I promise it, little witch. I'll give it to you good and long, but first, I want a taste of that sweet-smelling cunt of yours. I think you'll enjoy it also," the Hound said, before pressing his lips to hers. Sansa knitted her brow in aversion, but that didn't prevent her from letting his tongue enter her mouth and moving her lips with his.
After he had broken the kiss, the demon removed his hand from her folds and moved to the edge of the bed. He spread her thighs wide and plunged his long, odd-looking tongue in her. Sansa shielded her eyes with her arm, unable to bear the sight of what he was doing, yet moaned as he penetrated her with his tongue, her eyes rolling back.
With both his hands, he held the thighs that flanked his face, his claws scratching her skin and one of his horns brushing her inner thigh. His tongue was more agile than any tongue had a right to be and was twisting in her like a snake. The image of it was revolting and Sansa wished her loins did not pulse with bliss with each of its movement in her. She ought not to relish this so much…
"You taste like honey, girl, even better than I thought you would," the Hound muttered against her folds after he had withdrawn his tongue from her cleft.
With that, he began lapping at her clit with all the hunger of a starving stray dog. Once more, his tongue on her was exquisite and Sansa couldn't stop herself from groaning and writhing. Her centre was as hot as lava, liquid and boiling with want. She gripped her burned comforter with her hands, her hips bucking against his face as if of their own volition. The scent of metal was intensifying, enveloping her like a thick blanket until she could hardly breathe. Her cries were getting desperate, louder and throatier.
But then as Sansa was just on the verge of peaking, the demon removed his mouth from her and installed himself on his knees between her legs. Letting out a small cry of complaint, she gazed up at him with rounded eyes. The Hound's back was upward, the position displaying his imposing muscular torso to her view and the flickering light of the candles only attracting more attention to just how sinewy it was. His wings were slightly open, making him appear even larger and taller, as if he needed it…
"You'll come as I fuck you," he stated, placing his massive, dark member at her entrance. "I want to feel your cunt squeeze me hard as you do." With that he lowered himself over her and propped his forearm onto the mattress over her head.
Sansa had but a second to be nervous before he pushed himself into her in one sole thrust. She was incredibly wet and his dick went in smoothly, yet even so, a pang of pain traversed her pelvis. Tautening under him, she let out a long whimper and bit hard at her lip. He was so large and she had been a virgin just a second ago - that it hurt was unescapable. For all of that, the feel of being so filled, of being stretched around him was unexpectedly ecstatic. For an instant, it was as if nothing existed but that fullness in her – that and the agony and pleasure the invasion brought.
"Mmm, that's one tight little cunt you got there," the demon rasped, moving ever so slightly in her. "I barely fit in - thank fucking goodness you're soaked."
Then he growled contentedly and bit at her neck, hard, and Sansa shrieked.
"Did I hurt you? Sorry, little bird," he murmured, not sounding apologetic in the least. "You're just good enough to eat. Here now, that'll make it better," he added lowly, licking her neck like a dog where he had bitten her.
Sansa squeezed her eyes shut in disgust, yet she didn't have time to linger on it, for the Hound began pumping himself in her well and truly, one large hand clenched over her hip to guide his comings and goings. With each of his shoves, he buried himself to the hilt and then pulled his dick almost completely out of her before repeating the motion, again and again.
In just a few seconds of that, Sansa's soreness grew insufferable and she grunted in complaint. "Careful," she begged, pressing her palms against his chest.
"Don't try to push me away, little bird," the Hound scolded her. "Just relax and let yourself go."
In their position with their bodies so impossibly near, the strange masculine, slightly animalistic smell of him was more than strong and that, added to his continuous invasion of her, to the feel of his claws digging in her skin and to his ever-present intense psychic scent, was getting too much for her. Suddenly, Sansa was taken over by a bout of panic. All she wanted was to push this fiend off of her, to have her own space again, for him to disappear… However, even before she could attempt anything at all, the odour of metal became as thick as steam and a rush of arousal washed over her.
Oh gods, Sansa thought, her eyelids growing heavy. No, this is too much. But there wasn't anything she could do to stop the demon's spell. Her only option was to submit and let herself get carried away by the uncontrollable yearning he was rousing in her. Swaying her hips with his with renewed eagerness, Sansa let her hands slide to each sides of his torso and closed her arms around his broad chest.
"Yes, that's better. Much, much better," he muttered, his voice so very raw. "Hold me tight and let me take you hard." His eyes on her were narrowed and filled with lust, bright in the dimness of the room. Behind him, his horrific bat-like wings were wide open, Sansa noticed distractedly, stretched to their full size.
Never in her life had she been so confused. She couldn't understand her own emotions, they were so contradictory and extreme. How could anyone be in such state of elation as she presently was and yet be under the impression that they were in the middle of the most horrible of nightmares? Sansa was being mounted by a hideous and enormous half-man, half-beast creature, one that had come directly from the Seven Hells just to shag her. She was being restlessly impaled by his huge, veiny charcoal dick even as a clawed hand kept her in place, as his brutishly muscled, hairy torso rubbed against her breasts… She ought to wail and sob, not to rock her hips with his and moan same as if she was a bitch in heat. But there wasn't much she could do to stop herself. Her body was filled with such need…. She was desperate for that peak she could feel coming, was aching for it.
"See, little bird, this is what demons do to witches… I intend to do it to you often. Every bloody night, many times over. You'll soon learn us demons are hard to exhaust, but I don't think you'll ever complain of that much…"
Sansa didn't say a word. It was getting hard for her to even think. Instead, she groaned and parted her legs all the more to give the demon even better access. Arching her back into him, she met each of his thrusts in her and mewed and shivered at the amazing friction of his dick in her. Still, it was not enough. She wanted more...
The Hound kept on going with the same vigour and began licking her neck and ear. This time, Sansa was too much in a haze to be disgusted. To the contrary, even that little bit of stimulation was bringing her over the edge. By the Seven, but she had never wanted to come so much as she did now. Her climax was within reach, a gigantic thing that scared her just as much as it allured her. Her whole body was throbbing with need, each part of her infinitely sensitive and as she pushed her pelvis against the Hound and pressed her swollen clit against him as she met his shoves, the shockwaves that went through her were simply out of this world.
"Seven buggering Hells, but you're one wild little thing, are you? You love it, don't you? Being taken by your demon... Why don't you say it aloud, hmm? Tell me you want more of this," the fiend asked, his hand closing around one of her breasts and rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
Sansa wanted to weep in shame and she was sure she would later on, but for now, there was no denying the truth. "Yes... yes... please don't stop…" she let out, digging her fingernails into the thick skin of his back.
As she did, her fingers bumped into the bases of his wings and she winced, momentarily disturbed. She didn't let it slow her down though and she kept rolling her hips, dying to finally be relieved of that extraordinary pressure that was building in her.
And then she gasped and her eyes grew wide as she was abruptly submerged by a torrent of bliss so violent it briefly both blinded and deafened her. At first, she didn't even understand what was happening, she was nothing but sensations, a pulsing heart at the centre of the universe, an explosion of lightning in the never-ending darkness of cosmos. She cried out, a loud and sensual sound, and twisted under the Hound for what seemed like an eternity. Never in all of Westeros could Sansa have ever imagined anyone could possibly experience something so intent and otherworldly. For many long moments, she was completely lost to this world. This was no regular orgasm. There was something supernatural about it, or perhaps more likely, something demonic. It was a hundred times stronger than even the best peak Sansa had ever given herself, so long and powerful that she was straight out frightened even as she experienced it. Waves after waves of rapture repeatedly washed over her, keeping her completely prostrate, a wreck on her bed, so much so that she began wondering if the devil did not wish to keep her forever at his mercy with this. What if it never ended? What if she never came back? Would it really be that bad? a part of her asked. The moans that escaped her lips didn't sound all that troubled. It wouldn't be such a terrible fate…
As she rode her seemingly never-ending climax, the Hound pressed his mouth to hers and kissed her languorously. Sansa kissed him back with a passion she could not hold back. Their tongues were entangled and rubbing together in the most intoxicating manner, their lips moving in sync. She couldn't get enough of both his lips on hers and that crazy climax she was being subjected to and she pressed her whole body to his, same as if she wished they could merge into one sole being.
When after what seemed like an eternity of unbelievable pleasure, Sansa's peak receded at long last, the demon withdrew his lips from hers. Struggling to catch her breath, Sansa leaned into his large clawed fingers as he stroked her cheek and watched him through heavy lidded eyes.
"That's a good girl. You did so well," he said with unhidden satisfaction. His strange eyes were black with lust, the oblong pupils dilated and fixed on her. "My turn now, before I lose my fucking mind…"
Flipping her onto her stomach, the Hound shoved his rock-hard shaft in her cleft. Sansa yelped, yet she was so moist that he entered her with not an ounce of resistance. Not losing a second, he resumed taking her vigorously, his weight pressing her hard into the mattress. His comings and goings were causing her a bit of pain, yet most of all, reviving her latent pleasure. Pushing her butt up, Sansa rolled her hips with his and rubbed herself against the bed by the same action, her entire body pulsing with renewed arousal. She was ready to burst again and was crying out along with the demon's growls so loudly her throat was getting raw. And then it hit her for the second time, an orgasm just as abnormally potent as the previous. She was almost sobbing with pleasure, her face bathed in tears and pressed to the pillows, when the Hound finally peaked as well. Grunting like an animal and holding her hips flush against him with his large hands, he dug his claws into her skin and licked and bit at her neck. Sansa squirmed under him, feeling his large member twitch in her like a living thing and the warmth of his seed spill in her womb.
Then after both of their climaxes had receded, the demon pulled his dick out of her and collapsed by her side.
"Come over here, little mistress," he said, his voice so very hoarse. He pulled her to him, meeting no resistance from her.
They just lay there in silence, panting for a minute or two before the Hound spoke again.
"It's done now. Wasn't so bad, was it? I told you witches enjoyed being fucked by their demon and I did not lie, have I?" the Hound rasped, caressing her shoulder with a clawed hand.
Sansa shivered against him and buried her face into his chest. The spell the demon had cast on her was fading away quickly. With it, her revulsion for the bizarre creature that he was was once more getting impossible to ignore. His bodily smell was too strong, his psychic scent invasive… The sensations he had awoken in her with his touch and claiming of her had been totally mind-blowing, there was no denying it, but now that her head wasn't blurred so much, the memory of it all was rendering exceedingly ill at ease to the point that she was even slightly nauseous. She was left feeling dirty and ashamed of herself for the way she had moaned and responded to him with such readiness and the impression only worsened as his dark spell kept fading away.
On top of that, there wasn't a part of Sansa that wasn't aching. In his eagerness, the Hound had left bruises everywhere on her skin and she was also very sore between her legs for having been pounded so restlessly. He had bitten her, hadn't he? Her neck was burning and her hips were stinging where he had held her with his clawed hands.
For all of that, the last thing Sansa wanted was to offend him. The Hound and she would be linked from now on and it'd be best if they got along as much as a human and devil possibly could. Sansa had to get used to him and she surely would with time. Or at least, she hoped so…
"Yes, my lo… I mean… Hound?" she whispered, unsure how she should refer to him. Calling him 'the Hound' seemed a little awkward.
He snorted. "Call me Sandor. It's my true name and not one I hear very often. If there's one person who ought to use it, it's you. We're intimate now, aren't we? I am yours and you, mine. We've been bound by the act of Fornication as only a witch and her demon can be," he told her, gently caressing her hair.
At hearing the demon's words, all Sansa wanted was to weep in horror, yet instead she inhaled deeply and nodded against his chest, laying a hand on his overly muscular and hot torso.
"I'm not done consuming that bound we've just created though. I want you to come again, many, many times. I want to hear you cry out my name as you do and beg me for more. Because I know you will. It's only a question of time before you stop being so easily embarrassed and let go well and truly. Daybreak is still a few hours away; we'll get to know each other better until then, you'll see..."
Sansa wasn't sure whether to be appalled or to look forward to the prospect of what he was promising her. It was humiliating to be used the way he did, to see herself be transformed in the most lascivious woman possible in the blink of an eye by a spell she had absolutely no way of stopping. And the Hound, gods, but he gave her the creeps and no wonder: he was not even human and everything about him kept reminding it to her.
On the other hand though… Well, there was no way around it… It… it had been so, so, so good and there was that other part of Sansa that was dying to know another orgasm like the ones she had just experienced. It troubled her that even without the haze of the demon's spell doing its work on her, she still craved for this in spite of how much he repelled her…
Oh gods, if only he could just disappear, Sansa mused, squeezing her eyes shut. If only I could be left alone. More than anything, she needed space and time to think in peace. But of course, whatever she wished, the Hound would not leave her for as long as there was darkness and she didn't try to push him away as he began foundling her again. She would have time enough to ponder on all that had happened to her tomorrow, when he was gone...
The Hound took her again, over and over, and brought her to that same insane completion she had experienced earlier three additional times. Sansa had not even known it was possible for someone to come so many times in only one night. The Hound was like a ravenous beast, one who had been starved for too long and who could never know satiation. Though she was increasingly tired and tender – so much so that she wanted to weep by moments – the devil kept her in an intent state of arousal with his continuous spells and she thus went on with an urge similar to his.
She straddled him like her life depended on it, sucked his huge, dark penis with a hunger that made her blush even as she did it and let him screw her on all four same as if she was his bitch, crying out his name exactly as he had predicted she would. It was all so frantic and Sansa barely had a moment to come round after each bout before the other started. She felt lost; it was all too much for her and she wanted it to stop even as her body begged for more. Nevertheless eventually, the faintest ray of light came through the window and the demon faded away like mist.
"See you tomorrow night, Sansa Stark," he told her before he disappeared for good.
For a long moment, Sansa stared at the emptiness where he had been, shivering like a leaf, but then she let herself fall onto her bed and burst into tears. She sobbed violently for a whole minute, until the last of her strength had been exhausted, and fell into a deep dreamless sleep a mere instant later.
It was a beam of bright sunlight falling directly on her face that roused Sansa from her deep slumber. Frowning, she twisted away from it, the blankets under her feeling strangely rough against her skin, like they had been damaged somehow. Rolling onto her stomach, she groaned as her body seemed to ache everywhere. Her hand, her neck, her thighs, her hips, her shoulders, everything hurt… even her pussy was throbbing and sore like never before. It took her a few seconds to remember everything that had transpired in the dark of night.
There had been a demon in her room… she had lost her virginity to him… let him take her, over and over again…
"Oh by the Seven," Sansa breathed, her eyes popping open at once.
As every detail of the night gradually came back to her, she began shaking uncontrollably and coughing same as if she would retch. The reek of smoke was nauseating and tears were welling in her eyes. Sansa had fallen asleep over her partly burned comforter and just pulled it around herself, she realised, wrinkling her nose. She might as well have been lying on a bed of ashes. Oh by the Seven, but I'm gonna stink too, Sansa mused, forcing herself to sit up. She pushed herself up with her hand and winced at the pain it brought her. Opening her palm, she gazed down at the cut she had given herself to summon the demon. You could tell it had been deep. While it had closed completely thanks to the devil's dark magic, it was still red and gruesome and would without a doubt leave an ugly scar.
Then, Sansa rose her gaze from her hand and gasped in shock as she looked around herself. Her room was an utter mess with sand and melted candles on the floor and random objects lying around. Some of her furniture was slightly burned and her curtains and blanket were black and scorched. In the light of day, everything seemed a thousand times worse… This is a catastrophe, a true nightmare! Sansa though, her heart hammering in her chest. What were her parents going to say when they saw all of that?
With shaking legs, she stood from her bed as naked as on her name day and headed to her high free-stranding mirror. On her way, she saw it was a little past 10am on her alarm radio. She had slept for only about five hours, she surmised, and was still very tired. The juncture of her thighs was wet and sticky with the demon's sperm and as she walked, drops of it were slowly running down her inner thighs in the most unpleasant manner.
"Oh, gods!" Sansa let out as she saw her reflection in the mirror and took in the several bite marks and many scratches that covered her skin. "This is horrible…"
By the Maiden, but why? Why have I ever done any of this? she wondered, lifting both her hands to her face. Her throat was getting tight, same as it always did when she was just about to cry and her bottom lip was quavering against her palm.
However, just as she was about to allow herself to fall into despair, a sensation unlike anything she had ever experienced coming from deep within her stopped her short. It was so odd, like a ball of energy bubbling in her core. Could it be…? Could it be what I've always lacked? Sansa wondered, barely daring to hope. She had heard it described hundreds of times by other witches, the sensation of power gathering in you, of having your well filled to the brim.
Sansa closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Tears were prickling her eyes, but she managed to get a grip of herself and concentrate on that new feeling in her. She did it for a long time, utterly mesmerised by it, until she could almost see it in truth. Then, she pictured the bite marks and scratches and visualised them disappear - slowly, slowly but surely... Was it her imagination, or… or did it not sting so much anymore? Sansa didn't dare open her eyes, no matter how much she really longed to, not until she was done.
When some time later, she gathered she had to be, Sansa opened her eyes in slits and tentatively gazed at herself in the mirror. From the instant she did, she was stunned to see the scratches and bite marks had all faded away so much that they were barely visible anymore.
"This is incredible," she whispered, her eyes wide with disbelief and lips agape.
A mix of excitement and wonder, tainted with a hint of fear, was quickly threatening to get the better of her, but Sansa forced herself to remain calm. There was still work to be done and she had best not lose her focus. Shutting her eyes again, she imagined the furniture as it had been no later then yesterday evening and waited for a few long minutes in deep concentration, her teeth clenched with the effort. Waves of energy soon flew around her, like a warm breeze coursing through her room, telling her something was happening indeed.
Sansa kept going until she couldn't continue anymore and was so drained, she feared she might faint. Opening her eyes, she was utterly astonished when she saw everything was as it should be. The relief which flooded over her was incredible. She was so very grateful that she might have gotten down to her knees and started praying the Seven in thanks if not for the origins of her new strength. In spite of her joy, she was left totally shattered and could barely stand on her feet anymore. Struggling to catch her breath, Sansa threw herself over her back onto her now free of scorches bed and gazed at the ceiling, her chest heaving. Never in her life had she felt so weak, but was it really surprising? Until just a few minutes ago, she had never so much as cast the simplest of spells and here she had just managed to turn back time on herself and many objects. This was certainly never heard of, to become so powerful so fast.
In her inexperience, Sansa had completely emptied her well and wasted some of her vital energy in the same breath. That was clumsy. She knew enough about Skill and Craft to be aware of how dangerous doing so was, yet seeing how flat she had been until now, she had never been taught to use power properly. I'll learn with time. I won't do it again, Sansa promised herself. For now, she would need to nap a little to regain her strength and everything would be much better afterwards.
Then, all of a sudden, it dawned on her well and truly - the implications of it all – and a torrent of tears filled her eyes in just a fraction of a second. "I am a witch," Sansa said aloud, a tremulous smile curving her lips. With that, she began crying and laughing at the same time. "I am a witch," she repeated even louder through her laughter and sobs.
And just like that, all of yesterday's events took a whole new meaning - they all made sense. Sansa did not regret any of it, she realised. Nothing at all. And she would do it all over again if she had to, for it had been worth it. Oh, how it had been worth it…
She was a witch!