Westeros – The North
Winterfell
Brienne felt like a fool. When she had seen the army ride to war, she knew that Stannis had made his move. When saw the army routed, she had to go and makes sure that Stannis got what was coming to him. At long last, Renly had been avenged on his murderer… but she had forgotten herself. When she had gotten back and see the candle burning in the tower, horror had filled her. She had failed Caitelyn Stark again, for the third time.
She had ridden through the woods frantically, following the bRamsaying of hounds, hoping that she wasn’t too late… but her eyes were filled with horror at the scene she had stumbled in on.
Sansa was naked on the ground with three soldiers laughing at her. She was naked, her clothing hanging off her in tatters. She was scratched, bruised… obviously she had been raped… but that was nothing compared to the crimson stain in the snow around her. The men were laughing while the dogs were at her. Sansa was screaming, and the corpse of another man was still on the ground, stained red.
Brienne’s eyes were wide and furious as she looked at the woman she had sworn to protect. She screamed in fury, drawing Oathkeeper and charging forward. The soldiers turned, surprise on their face… one of them still had his cock out. He died first. He was wearing nothing but leather and padded armor, and her Valyrian steel cut through him like cloth. She cut him in half at the waist with barely any effort.
The other soldiers began to yell, raising a swords and hacking down at her. She headed to the right, letting one black cut down through nothing but air as she moved out of the way, raising her sword to catch the other man’s blade. She heard the baying of the hounds, knew they would be here soon… hoped that meant that they were leaving Sansa alone. She bashed the man in the face with the hilt of her sword, kicked one of the hounds in the face with a plate-covered boot, and took off a soldier’s arm at the elbow, causing him to spin screaming to the ground.
Brienne looked on in horror as one of the hounds grabbed him by the throat and ripped it out. They had killed on of their own handlers while he was bleeding on the ground. What kind of hellhole was the Warden of the North running here?
Another hound lunged at her, and she had to stab it. The third soldier turned to run, and she slashed Oathbringer down across his back, and he dropped without a sound. She stabbed another dog, and the other dogs yelped and ran away. Brienne wanted to chase after them, but her duties were here. She turned back toward her charge.
The first man was a servant she had seen around Winterfell. He was filthy, and dirty, and stank. He was also dead… his throat had been torn out. He had died quickly, at least. Sansa hadn’t been so lucky. Brienne knelt beside her charge, holding her out of the mud while she let out ragged breaths. The dogs had ripped her open, blood pouring out of open wounds and bite marks. Her wide eyes were open, but unseeing… her heartbeat was weak.
“Sansa…” Brienne whispered. “Please, stay with me girl. Please… I can’t lose you too…”
Tears filled her eyes as the girl she had sworn to protect breathed her last. She could barely see the girl through the water filling her eyes… couldn’t tell where the red of her hair stopped and the blood began.
Then an arrow took her in the side.
Brienne tried to rise and stumbled, pain lancing through her side. She tried again, and fell, collapsing down on the arrow. Pain filled her mind as it dug further into her side… and she passed out, her vision going white with pain as she lost herself to the pain.
Hanging by her wrists, Brienne awaited her fate. She had been stripped out of her armor, wearing just her arming clothing, the padded armor, and the cloth… It had been torn in a few places where the arrow had been pulled out of her and she’d been bandaged. It burned badly, but her wrists hurt almost as badly at this point. The knight’s bare feet dangled above the floor. Brienne drifted in and out, the emotional pain of her failure yet again hurting nearly as badly as her wounds.
“Well well well,” a cheerful voice said. “So, you’re the cunt who killed a couple of my dogs, eh?” She opened her eyes and saw the smug young man in front of her. He was tall, with dark, curly hair. The man wore dark clothing, save for a brown rope wrapped around his left arm from the wrists. He wore a Stark wolf on his vest, but she knew it wasn’t a true one… just a trophy the new Warden of the North had taken. House Bolton had taken over the Wardenship, and if she had to guess, that would make this Ramsay Bolton, son of the previous Warden of the North Roose Bolton. The man who she had been trying to rescue Sansa from.
“You cost me my wife, you know,” he said. There still wasn’t a hint of anything but cheer in his voice. “She only would have been dumb enough to try to run if she thought you were going to save her. She died still thinking that, you know… that you were going to take her away from all this.” Ramsay shook his head. “Do you know what the emblem of my house is, lady knight?”
Brienne shuddered. She did. The Flayed Man. The practice was theoretically forbidden, but even down in the Sapphire Isles she had heard the tales, told by drunken man to one another to speak of the barbarity of the North, that the Boltons still practiced the art in secret.
“Maybe I’ll flay you and hang you from the battlements as an example?” he said, still grinning. “Or maybe not… you know, you’re not as pretty as Sansa, but you seem like you can take a lot more than that weak bitch. Maybe you can be my new wife.” He began to uncoil the rope around his arm, and only as he did did she recognize the bullwhip for what it was. Brienneclosed her eyes, waiting for the whip, but when the crack came nothing happened. As she opened her eyes in surprise, she took in Ramsay’s wicked grin in the second before the heavy whip found its mark on her left thigh, slashing her breeches. She stifled a scream which was as much of pain as of enraged surprise. Her legs pulled up in reflex. She was no stranger to pain, she had been wounded in combat before and her arrow wound still burned, but now her sword could exact no retribution, and no opponent would be defeated.
The grin on Ramsay’s face subsided a little. He had hoped she would scream more. Since she was no ordinary woman, he had chosen not to strip her to follow up with whipping… he would rather use it to strip her. His first strike with the heavy, long whip had torn a wide gash in her breeches, but the welt on the shapely thigh was not bleeding. Her clothing would stem some of the bite of the heavy bullwhip… At first.
Another three strikes, in quick succession, landed on Brienne’s back. She kind of screamed, a halting, spiteful scream. The next strike landed on her right calf, on bare skin, drawing blood as she hissed. Ramsay hit her again a few times, pausing in between, then circled around and landed the next blow on her taut stomach, followed immediately by another at the front of her thigh and by a third which landed on her left breast. She cried for real this time, and Ramsay salivated at the sight of her athletic body writhing under the whip, the lashes shredding her outfit to tatters.
Brienne showed all signs of being proud and stubborn, not likely to yield so easily. He pressed on, lashing her nice legs again and then moving to the arms stretched above her head, which proved a difficult target as the whip would wrap around instead of slicing the fabric open. Changing his mind, he smiled and targeted first one and then the other tempting breast, and was rewarded when the shirt revealed a nipple as she cried behind clenched teeth.
With each lash, Brienne felt her resolve waning. She could not dodge the whip, she could not fight back, all she could do was writhe and scream. Ramsay did not strike at regular intervals, but paused often to let the pain sink in before renewing it. Just as she thought that, he launched a barrage of strikes in rapid succession, raining one after another all over her body as she gasped in pain. Her outfit now shredded, the knight hung before her abuser, who now ogled the magnificent body revealed by the lash.
“You know… you’re a lot prettier naked. Your body isn’t half bad. You should consider not wearing anything ever again… if I even decide to let you.” The whip slashed again at her leg, drawing his eyes to the slender, athletic limbs kicking as Brienne moaned. The next moan was a higher pitch as the strong leather licked her exposed ass where just tatters of her pants remained. The next painful sting landed on her taut stomach as she turned around under the force of the whipping. The lashes climbed up her athletic body, now mostly naked, up to her clenching fists, and then moved down again trough her stretched, long arms, where the muscles flexed on each blow, to the round, proud breasts now undergoing another barrage of strikes among her drawn out, muffled shrieks, and finally to the front of thighs again.
He paused then to untie the cord and letting Brienne collapse to the ground. It shamed her, but her legs didn’t work right after the whipping… she fell heavily to the floor. Ramsay walked over to her and wrapped the whip around her neck, starting to strangle her with it. “Or maybe we can just end it all right here… did you want to die, lady knight?” With her hands bound, Brienne could barely fight… she certainly couldn’t get her fingers beneath the garrotte. Ramsey kept choking her until she was nearly unconscious, and then he abruptly released her, grabbing her wrists.
The cruel Warden bound her wrists behind her back as he wound the cord through her ankle bindings, then as she caught her breath, he headed back over to the cord and began to yank her back up by her ankles, suspending her upside down. “Not again…” Brienne muttered, catching herself just before blurting it out… he didn’t want to give that sick bastard the enjoyment.
Ramsey took a moment to enjoy how she looked, hanging like that. Brienne was a tall, athletic blonde with a lovely body. He had heard jokes about “Brienne the Beauty” from his father, when he had been part of capturing her before… if the men there had understood how much prettier she was beneath the clothing and the armor, they wouldn’t have let her get away unraped. Most of her body, except for the arms, bore only tatters of her clothing outfit and was crisscrossed by welts, some bleeding. Removing the rest of her clothing would have taken but a swat of the hand, but Ramsay had other plans. Her position exposed, among other places, the soft underside of her firm breasts, and Ramsay made a point to himself to remove the shreds of her shirt still clinging there, striking first one and then the other as her head bent backward in a silent cry of anguish.
The whip uncoiled with a crack and bit her left arm, bound behind her, and then found its mark on the right arm, targeting the remains of the sleeves. But soon the tip returned to other parts, more tender, such as the crease between her ass cheeks, and the soft flesh between ass and thigh. Strike after strike, Ramsay wasn’t going to stop until he got a real scream from her. So far all she had made were muffled cries, hisses and gasps. It didn’t so much aggravate him as it just didn’t satisfy him.
Ramsay’s blows became more vicious, with longer pauses to let the pain linger before renewing it in a different position. He wasn’t keeping count, but the blows rained on the writhing knight over and over, one after another, causing Brienne to twist and bend at the waist, shaking her head in anguish. Her tits were now marked by a number of bleeding slashes, her nipples on fire, and no trace of cloth remained on the martyred undersides.
Screaming silently and vainly fighting tears, Brienne couldn’t hold back her anguish anymore. Ramsay was whipping her thighs now, where some remnants of her breeches still clung. She almost blanked when the whip bit behind the knee, and again when it lashed below her belly, near her private parts, Her eyes met those of her tormentor, and she knew what fear he had read in hers, because the hellish whip landed between her legs, causing her to scream aloud for the first time. “And I hear you sing at last…” Ramsay laughed derisively.
He wanted her to collapse, now. He aimed two quick blows at her nipples before putting all his strength in a blow at the remnants of cloth covering her sex, a difficult strike since she was desperately clenching her thighs. His efforts were rewarded by another shriek, but the next slash between her legs resulted in nothing at all… Brienne had passed out.
Ramsey tsked to himself. “Reached your limit already, did you? And here I was hoping you’d be tougher.” He shrugged. “Bitches these days just can’t handle their arrow wounds.” Grinning wickedly, Ramsay tossed down the whip and walked over behind her where she was hanging, resting against the back of her legs and the bottom of her ass. Reaching out, he ripped the few remaining shreds of clothing off her.
His strong hands grasped at her ass and pulled her cheeks apart. Then his cock pressed against her tight sphincter, and Ramsay proceeds to give the poor knight a nice “welcome” back to the land of the living as he slowly forces his massive shaft up her deliciously tight little ass.
Brienne came back to consciousness screaming, experiencing the most horrible pain she had ever felt. The terrified and pained shrieks and squeals that begin to come from the helpless, defenseless knight a few moments later are music to Ramsay’s ears, and he savors and enjoys every last one of them as he gets down to business. Sansa had screamed like that the first time, too.
She felt like she was dying as Ramsay shoved his massive woman killer of a cock up her ass, splitting her open from the rear. Blood began to trickle from her ass as Ramsay shoved another inch deeper into her rectum. Brienne screamed and screamed as shooting pains surged up from her ass and through her helpless body. She thought she could feel things tearing inside of her ass.
Ramsay, for his part, was delighted and amazed. This little cunt had already taken six inches of his thick rod, and grunting he shoved a seventh and then an eighth inch into her, while she writhed and screamed in agony. It felt great on his cock and with a grunt and a massive shove, he pushed his last inch into the helpless girl. He had never had a girl who could take all nine inches of his meat up her ass before, not even his late wife, and he found he loved the feeling of this writhing, screaming knight who thought she was tough impaled on the sword between his legs.
He held still for several minutes, enjoying the sensations, before he began to pull back out. Brienne’s ass was on fire, the agony intense and extreme. As Ramsay began to pull back out, she gasped a breath of air and began to mutter a prayer to the Seven that it was over, hoping against hope that it was…
Ramsay pulled all but the last few inches out of her… and then rammed hard and fast completely into her again, making his balls swing like a pendulum and slap against her upside down hanging ass as his whole shaft buried itself deep into her violated arse. Brienne screamed and shrieked again and again as Ramsay began to pick up speed and began savagely fucking her ass. Blood ran from Brienne’s punctured asshole, covering Ramsay’s cock and balls as well as the pale cheeks of her ass, covering over angry red welts and pristine skin both.
For several more minutes, she screamed and writhed in agony while Ramsay grunted in perverse pleasure. Finally, unable to extend it any longer, Ramsay pushed deep again and spurted his load of seed deep into Brienne’s brutalized ass. He laughed as he did, slapping her brutalized cheeks as he yanked his length out, leaving Brienne to sob. Her whole body was in agony… bruised, whipped, and raped to the limit of human endurance and beyond. Blood still ran from her abused ass and her beautiful tits were a purplish mass of bruises. Her nipples were swollen and bloody and raw.
“Sansa didn’t get around to giving me my heir before she died,” Ramsay said, kicking out with a shoving kick to set her spinning by the ankles in misery. “Maybe you can do it… but I’m not going to breed you until you beg for it.” As she spun, she caught intermittent glances of his grinning face. “It took Sansa a few days of getting her ass raped to beg me to fuck her cunt instead… I suspect it will take you a little longer… but that’s ok. I’ll have my fun either way, right?”
He reached out to stop her spinning, and she could look up to see him leering down at her. “Ready for round two, Lady Tarth?”
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