Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/196421.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin
  Relationship:
      Petyr_Baelish/Sansa_Stark
  Character:
      Petyr_Baelish, Sansa_Stark
  Additional Tags:
      Spanking, Emotional_Manipulation, Blackmail, Control_Issues, Daddy_Kink,
      Pseudo-Incest, Fingerfucking, Loss_of_Innocence, Masturbation, Punishment
  Collections:
      Porn_Battle_IV_(Fourth_Verse,_Same_as_the_First)
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-05-08 Words: 765
****** Revenge ******
by Nary
Summary
     "You… want me to punish you?" He sounded bemused, but she thought she
     could detect a hint of interest in his voice.
  This work was inspired by
      Control by redcandle17
Sansa wasn't a fool, and she had long since lost the luxury of innocence. When
Petyr had laid her over his lap and lifted her skirts, she'd seen quickly
enough what was going on. The hard prod of his manhood against her stomach only
confirmed her suspicions. She'd borne the humiliation as stoically as she was
able, but towards the end the smarting blows made tears start from her eyes.
When he finally let her stand again, she'd feigned a humble and chastened look,
but her face was red with a fitful anger and her stomach quivered strangely.
She left as quickly as she could, without looking him in the face, not wanting
to see that smug smile.
Later that night, in an effort to rid herself of the unaccustomed feelings, she
let her fingers glide between her legs in quick, quiet strokes, and tried to
think of anyone but him.
She waited a few days, until the sting had faded, so that she would be calm and
under control when she went to him. She knocked at the door to his solar, and
waited to be given permission to enter.
"Alayne," he greeted her, as if nothing had happened. "What can I do for you,
my sweet?"
"Oh, Father," Sansa began, letting her voice tremble just a little. "I've done
something very bad."
"What is it?" His brow furrowed in puzzlement.
"The new gown you bought for me - I've spilled wine all down the front of it.
I'm afraid it's ruined."
"Well, no matter -"
"Shall I be punished again?" she asked, perhaps a little over-eagerly.
"You… want me to punish you?" He sounded bemused, but she thought she could
detect a hint of interest in his voice. She nodded, keeping her eyes modestly
downcast, but looking up at him through her long eyelashes. "Very well," he
said after a moment's consideration. "Come over here, and lift your skirts…"
She did as she was told, lowering her smallclothes and lying down across his
knees. When he began to spank her, she let herself cry out, and squirmed a
little as well, to heighten the effect. Sure enough, soon she could feel his
arousal growing, until it seemed hard as steel.
"Father," she said when the blows finally stopped and he let her slump to the
floor, "are you all right?"
"Fine, Alayne," he told her, but his breath was coming a little too fast and he
wiped his thumb across his lips to dry them.
"Are you, truly? It seemed to me you were… struggling with yourself. As if,
perhaps, you wanted… something more." She ran one pale hand up his leg, along
his inner thigh.
He jumped back. She had managed to surprise him for once. "I want nothing more
than my daughter's happiness," he choked out.
"Oh, come, 'Father', let's not pretend," she said, smiling slightly. "After
all, I'm not a child - certainly not your child - and I can tell what it is you
truly want." Sansa stood, keeping her skirts hiked, still bare from the waist
down. "Is it this?" She straddled him, twining her arms about his neck. She
could feel the rough fabric of his breeches, stretched close to bursting,
against her most delicate parts, and it aroused her nearly as much as the power
she knew she held over him.
"It… it would be a mistake," he managed to say, though he was trembling
slightly. "Everything we've been working for depends on keeping up
appearances."
"Oh, we can keep them up," she murmured against his ear, flicking the lobe
gently with her tongue. "You're the master of lies, after all, and I've learned
everything I know from you. We can be careful." He groaned softly, and she felt
the balance of power tip in her favour. All that was needed now was to drive
the point home. "I remind you of her, don't I? Here, taste what you never could
before…" She dipped her fingers down between her thighs and coated them with
her nectar, then brought them, glistening, up to his mouth. Eyes closed, he
sucked them clean. "Never forget," she whispered as his tongue caressed the
space between her index and middle fingers, "that I know your secrets - not
just this one, but others." She left the words "moon door" unsaid, but both of
them knew what she meant.
"Sansa…" Petyr said quietly, a warning chill in his voice, "you've won this
battle. Don't push your luck." Then he brought his hand to her aching quim and
drove all other thoughts and plans out of her mind.
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