Chapter Text
Reek had been tough to train but in the end he had learned. Not only that, but he went above and beyond what Ramsay had expected of him. Instead of merely accepting beatings, he now obediently handed his master the whip and curled over to expose his vulnerable back. When he was scared (which was nearly always) instead of flinching away from Ramsay he cuddled up closer, nuzzling against his lord's shoulder affectionately. It was strangely endearing, this version of Reek. Honestly Ramsay hadn't given much thought to what he would do with the creature once he was finally obedient. He couldn't kill him; he was still far too valuable for that. He had considered locking him up in the dungeons. Once he threatened just that when reek disobeyed him in some way. The look of sheer terror was intoxicating as were the desperate please that fell from Reek's cracked lips.
"Please master don't send Reek away. I will be good! Good Reek, obedient Reek. Want to serve you please!" That was the first time Reek had voluntarily fallen to his knees and took his master's cock in his mouth, lapping and sucking eagerly, big eyes looking up imploringly. Though he didn't show it, Ramsay dismissed all thoughts of locking his pet up.
After that Ramsay's subtly changed. At dinner he took to slipping Reek choice cuts of meat from his own plate just to see the little creatures eyes grow wide with gratitude. He drank in the whimpered words of thanks as well as the timid gestures of affection. Plus it didn't hurt that Reek always made sure to expressed his gratitude when they returned to Ramsay's chambers. Often times the servant was naked on the bed on his hands and knees before Ramsay could even close the door. He did not scream or resist anymore, he would spread his legs or drop to his knees without a word of protest. Oddly enough Ramsay found the willingness almost as enticing as resistance. As the days passed he grew increasingly fond of his dull little pet. But at night, when he thought Ramsay was asleep Reek would sob quietly, thin arms wrapped around himself as he lay curled on the floor.The next day he would act the perfect little whore although his eyes were oddly dull and glassy.
It bothered Ramsay for reasons he could not quite understand. Why should his pet cry so? He did not fuck him mercilessly as he once did, more often then not he let Reek take him in his mouth instead. The act was humiliating and probably uncomfortable but surely not painful. And really, was being taken like a woman so horrible? It couldn't be nearly as bad as the flaying knife or the cross. Yet none of those punishments made Reek cry wail like that.
"Does it hurt so terribly?" Ramsay asked one day, buried deeply within his pet. Reek blinked up at him in confusion, big eyes ever so slightly glazed with tears.
"My lord I don't understand."
"This, Reek." Ramsay said impatiently, rolling his hips forward a bit. "Does it pain you when we do this?" Reek bit his lip, trying to think of the best way to respond.
"Not as much as before my lord." he said hesitantly.
"But it still causes you pain?" Ramsay pressed. "Answer me truly Pet." Reek looked genuinely confused.
"Isn't that what master wants? Unless he would rather something else. If Master wishes it-." Ramsay did fuck him hard then to stop the infernal rambling. He tried to enjoy the muffled sounds of pain his pet made whenever he moved but the sound wasn't as sweet as it once had been.
Roose Bolton wasn't surprised by much but the sight of his bastard hunched over a great stack of books in the library was enough the rattle him. The image itself was a bit ridiculous; the broad shouldered, common looking boy, flipping through the pages.
"I wasn't entirely sure you could read." He drawled, pulling Ramsay from his task. The surprise increased when instead of spewing insults at him the boy merely glared before turning back to his work.
"How do you pleasure a lover?" He asked suddenly, not looking up. Roose blinked at him.
"What?"
"That fat sow of yours squeals at all hours of the night. I assume you have some idea what you're doing."
"Are you a blushing virgin now?" Roose asked sarcastically. Indeed a slight pink flush had begun to cover his son's face.
"Forget it." Ramsay mumbled darkly, sweeping past him, an armful of books clutched to his chest. Roose stood in place for a minuet unsure of what had just occurred.
"Bad blood." He decided at last. "Affects the brain."