Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/57406.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_Martin
  Relationship:
      Petyr_Baelish/Sansa_Stark
  Character:
      Sansa_Stark, Petyr_Baelish
  Additional Tags:
      Spanking, Cunnilingus
  Collections:
      Porn_Battle_VIII_(The_Eighth_Wonder_-_Bigger,_Longer,_Uncut)
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-01-30 Words: 743
****** Almost Worth It ******
by redcandle17
Summary
     Fearing she's gotten used to being spanked, Alayne's father finds a
     different way to punish her - and to reward her for accepting her
     punishment.
Sansa Stark had been a good girl. Her father had rarely had to punish her.
Alayne wasn't as good as Sansa. She tried to be, truly she did, but it seemed
scarcely a fortnight passed without her father spanking her. He would call her
into his study and sadly explain how she had disappointed him. Alayne would
always apologize and promise to do better, but Petyr would insist she lay
herself across his lap. He'd raise her skirts and spank her bottom and then
he'd send her to bed to reflect on why she'd been punished.
Alayne was surprised when one evening, instead of drawing her down into his
lap, her father told her to bend over his desk. But she knew better than to
question him and she positioned herself as she'd been told without saying a
word. Petyr gathered her skirts to her waist only to have them fall as soon as
he let go. He raised them again and this time he tucked the hem of her gown
into her neckline. Alayne blushed, imagining how she must look, with her whole
lower body exposed so. This was worse than being across his knees.
"I fear you've become too accustomed to my hand, sweetling."
Fear churned in her stomach. "What shall you punish me with, Father?"
Petyr showed her a thick leather strap. "It will hurt, but it is supposed to."
Alayne said nothing. She squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for the
first blow. Her father made her wait. He caressed her thighs and her bottom
gently at first. She relaxed, wondering if he would touch her between her legs
as he sometimes did after spanking her. The pain when the strap finally hit
surprised her and made her cry out.
Petyr struck her again and again. The pain was far worse than that of the
spankings. Alayne would have screamed if she didn't fear that people would hear
and come and see her like this. She tried to endure her punishment bravely, but
she was sobbing by the time Petyr stopped.
"Shhh," he said, stroking her hair. She started to rise, but he pushed her back
down. "Your punishment isn't over."
Alayne didn't think she could bear any more. "Please," she begged, "No more.
I'll be good."
"You'll stay there while I write letters to our pawns in King's Landing."
She heard him seat himself behind the desk, then she heard the rustle of paper.
This was worse than being sent to bed like a child. Alayne shifted her weight
restlessly, her bottom burning and her body tiring of the position. Every so
often her father would stroke her pained flesh gently, but he didn't speak.
Her mind wandered, playing scenes from a life that wasn't hers; unfeigned
laughter and honest smiles, embraces that offered safety and words that weren't
lies. Sansa Stark hadn't known how lucky she was. A strange sensation between
her legs jarred Alayne back to reality. It was like a touch, but different
and...wet. Petyr was licking her, she realized. She was horrified at having his
face there, but he hadn't given her permission to move so she stayed put. She
couldn't help squirming though. It felt good, very good.
"Come for me, Alayne," he said.
She writhed, trapped between her father and his desk. The press of her breasts
against the hard wood of the desk was more pleasurable than it ought to be.
Alayne realized she was mewling and made herself be silent. The pleasure grew
so intense that the world seemed to disappear and she was left floating among
stars. She might have screamed, but she wasn't sure.
"Off to bed with you now," Petyr said. He untucked her gown and allowed her
skirts to fall into place.
Alayne straightened slowly. She turned to face her father. She ignored the
bulge in his breeches and kissed his cheek. "Good night, Father."
He caught her before she could flee and kissed her thoroughly on the mouth.
Alayne tasted herself on his lips and frowned at the saltiness. She'd never
thought about it, but it seemed as though she ought to have tasted sweet, being
such a good girl.
Petyr released her and turned away abruptly. "Good night, Alayne."
Alayne hurried away. She would have to wear a bedgown tonight to hide her
undoubtedly red and bruised bottom from Randa. Her punishment had almost been
worth what came after it though. Almost.
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