So my first ficlet on the site. I cannot express enough of extreme dark Belle. Non-con. You've been forewarned twice. Oh and I don't own anything.
Rumpelstiltskin hated the Dark Castle. He hated the somber, iron gray walls of his cell mottled with gore. He hated the dark foreboding corridors of stone unlike the open forests he'd lived before. He hated the haunted screams which just faintly trailed upon the wind of bygone dead at his mistress' hands. He hated everything about the Dark Castle, and yet he knew it was the safest place he had ever lived.
No one would ever force him into a war here, and there was no one to knock his crutch from under him sending him sprawling or call him "Hobble-foot" the name he detested above all other taunts. Even if he could have left, run away from the female who owned him, he wouldn't give up the safety of the Dark Castle, coward that he was.
The one thing the spinner who had given so much to save his boy and his village did not hate was the beautiful, dangerous woman who he'd struck the bargain with. No, the Dark One, Mistress Belle he did not hate; Mistress Belle, he feared with every scrap of his soul and thought in his gangly body. Fear overrode any other emotion. Hate, trepidation, even anger were all culled and defeated by raw fear of the woman he had seen stop a war with a snap of her painted fingers and turn the ogre warlord into a plump slug she burst between two pinched fingers.
For the price of his only family's life, his home, their entire existence he did not only bargain himself as a slave, he allowed his fear to completely control every aspect of his now eternally servile life.
A thin, unhappy smile carved upon Rumpelstiltskin's face as he slowly hobbled and swept a well-lit corridor. Even though bright flames bickered merrily in the long, dank corridor, nothing could truly penetrate the darkness always engulfing the castle. More than darkness hung over the citadel, a shroud of the purest evil stifled thickly through the very stone.
With an old broom in one hand and his gnarled crutch in the other, he slowly gathered the thick layers of dust and dirt and grime in the rarely ventured corridor. The going was tortuously slow as always for a cripple who could only do so much; though he did try his hardest. Many a day he never got half his allotted chores finished, yet never scolded by his odd mistress for his lack of toil.
His brow crinkled in contemplation as always when his mind roved to the thought. What possible use did she have for a crippled slave besides for the odd chore and…?
Immediately he sensed another presence in the corridor with him banishing his contemplations. Over the months he had been in the Dark Castle he could accurately tell when she was near. Her presence sparked an icy fear in him that sprang to life like some sixth sense warning him of danger.
"Rumpelstiltskin," her voice mocked his name in the darkness. A chuckle from somewhere up or down the vast corridor trilled upon the wind sending a shiver down his spine.
He stammered fitfully, clutching the broom as though it were some sort of sword that could repel her unwanted presence, "milady." He swallowed hard and peered into the darkness with puckered eyes trying to locate her sensuous figure.
Her hand ghosted upon his narrow shoulder from behind making him jump and jerk about all in the same motion. Another taunting laugh eased from her lips as she used one hand to push him to the icy stone wall; effectively trapping him like a cat who just caught a mouse.
She was beautiful, her brown hair wild and untamed, and her blue eyes sparkling in the fire light of the guttering torches. And yet there was a sinister deadliness to her that sowed yet again a deep seeded fear of her.
Her hand kept him pinned lightly to the wall with only one finger, but he dared not move, and barely dared to breathe unless she gave him permission he could do so easily without repercussion. A devious smile snaked upon her face. "Rum, my cowardly slave, I fell as though you've been avoiding me today." She feigned a pout. "You've hurt my feelings."
"I…I swear I haven't been trying to dodge you, mistress." He dipped his head down subserviently, not daring to meet her eyes. He fiddled with his hands hoping to keep the strain of intense fear from quaking through his body.
She scoffed, "And I should believe you? What good is the word of a coward? They'll say or do anything to save their own hide." Her hand pinned him a trifle harder to the stone, making his heart patter pitifully in his chest. "I can tell, or have you forgotten who you call mistress? You have been avoiding me; you know I've been trying to seek you out. The same way you knew how I was here before I let my presence known." Suddenly she leaned forward, her face only inches from his cringing visage. "The same way you know what I want from you, coward. You knew when I first glanced at you this morning. Don't deny it. For all your short comings, and they are vast, you are a perceptive fool."
At such heatedly whispered words Rumpel blanched. His belly filled with icy dread as he tried to find his tongue. "I need to finish my chores, mistress," he proclaimed lamely after managing to summon up a hint of courage he managed to scrounge away.
"Need I remind you, coward, your life is not your own." She grinned, but her words dripped venom burning away the little courage he had into vapors. "You belong to me, and as such I can choose what you do and do not do."
Before he could even try to find a word to protest or plead she leave him be, he felt her icy hands slip under his brown tunic. His breath caught as the coldness of her hands slowly rose to his heavily heaving chest.
Belle arched a brow in mock inquisitiveness, "my, my so afraid of my touch. Truly a coward, aren't you, Rumpelstiltskin?" She dug her nails slightly into his flesh causing him to hiss in pain. "Answer me," the Dark One demanded in a whisper; her face an inch from his own.
"Yes, mistress, I am a coward." He nodded, loathing the words she ordered him speak. The truth always hurt him the most.
"Oh but just how cowardly should be the true question," she laughed sultrily as her hands began to roams in the opposite direction. She smiled widely as he flinched at her touch.
"Coward enough to not halt me from doing this, slave?" At that, she undid his belt buckle, letting it fall away to hang limply at the side. "Or this?" She mocked and curled her fingers inside his breeches, a cruel grin upon her features. "Or even this." Her hands skirted over his manhood brazenly, cupping his flaccid length in her hand.
Her grip was far from hard, but still he yelped at the coolness of her hand. Though he wished she would be gone, he felt his blood begin to stir as her hands explored his member.
"Why will you let me do this?" She asked as she fondled him, her hand massaging him to bring him to life.
"I…have no choice…" he stammered pitifully.
"That's a lie. Why will you allow me to do this?"
"Because I am a coward," he gulped down the bile of shame and threw his head back.
Belle chuckled darkly. "You were almost correct. You're not just any coward." With her free hand she pulled down his breeches allowing his semi hard prick to spring out. "You're my coward, Rumpelstiltskin."
Growing bored of her ministrations with little gain, she sent a shot of magic through him. The spinner groaned raggedly unable to hide the surge of pleasure he received. His prick sprang to full attention, through magical means, begging to be touched and worked to free the growing ache inside.
Before he could even move to fondle himself, the Dark One removed her hand. "On your knees, coward," she commanded huskily, lust flashing in her eyes.
Without protest he sank to his knees. He flinched at the pain in his bad leg twinge, but nothing would compare to the pain he knew would come if he failed to please her. He looked up to her momentarily, but knew what was expected of him.
Her leather pants, always so form fitting were magically removed leaving herself reveled to him. The sweet scent of her sex made his length ache despite himself. He knew well what would happen should he refuse. The scars on his back were a firm reminder of what had occurred when he let his fear and terror paralyze him the first few times when faced with such strange ways in pleasuring.
He gingerly lapped at her entrance with his tongue, tasting her sweetness before delving deeper in his forced exploration. Her aroma was intoxicating as he sought out her sweet spots and added his fingers. With every move she moaned her pleasure letting him no he was certainly doing a fine job. Her hands tangled through his hair; nails digging mildly into his scalp like claws.
Perhaps, he dared think, this was all she wanted to find pleasure, that she would reach her peak and depart. He was wrong.
Without warning he felt himself being pushed backwards. His back thudded on the floor and she was upon him in moments. Rumpel couldn't stifle a moan as she sheathed him fully in her velvet tunnel.
She grinded upon him making him go deeper into her as she bucked impaled herself on his rigid prick. He could have simply lain there and she would have done all the work, and for the most part he did just that; too frightened to try anything.
Moans tumbled unmercifully from his mouth as she ran her fingers through she chest hair whilst seeking her pleasure. He closed his eyes, imagining the woman atop him was not so cruel, or evil, but perhaps kind and wonderful. He shut his eyes tightly and dreamed he too wanted this, as she did.
"Look at me Rumpelstiltskin," she demanded in a lusty growl. Her fingers dug into his chin as his eyes popped open. He tried to shift his head, but she kept him staring straight into her alighted eyes. "Look at me coward," Belle echoed in a snarl, "look at me while I rape you."
He had no choice. Feared into subjection by her words, he stared into her not daring to avert his gaze. Even still, he felt his climax nearing from her spell and her movements upon him. His prick throbbed hotly deep inside her as she squirmed and ground herself down to his very base.
At last her walls squeezed about him in a thunderous crescendo. Her back arched as her climax shot through her in shivers of pleasure. She writhed upon him frantically like a bug stuck to a pin trying to make her climax last.
He too was beginning to feel his balls tighten with expectation. His breath hitched and heart pounded against his chest as he felt the first shivering of his own inadvertent climax spire him to ecstasy.
Entranced by the pleasure in his prick about to be unleashed, he grabbed her hips meaning to keep her in place to find his mark.
"You think I'll let you finish inside me, slave?" She growled as his hands curled about her hips. In a moment she pulled away from him, leaving his throbbing member un-sated.
The coldness that whipped about them was a stark contrast to her heat and warmth that had engulfed his rock hard member. For a moment he forgot himself and leapt up with her, his eyes blinded by lust to ease the ache in his loins. He tried to pull her back, desperately needing to find release.
Her hand gripped his shoulder and yanked him back down to the ground at her feet.
Rumpelstiltskin landed hard on his hands and knees, yet no pain compared to his aching length left so close and begging to be relieved. What had he been thinking to actually attempt to pursue his mistress?
She smirked evilly upon him and leaned against the wall, her arms crossed. "Cowards spill their seed on the floor," Belle explained breathlessly, relishing in her dominance.
How he wished to deny her. How he wished to get up and find the nearest pool of icy water to dampen his heated blood. But he wouldn't. He was too weak to fight for what little pride he still had. He was too much of a coward to show any form of outward rebellion to his mistress.
Eagerly he clutched his length, still hot and slick with her juices as he pumped at a rapid tempo. His senses became dull and focused only on the building pleasure inside he loathed. Somewhere to his side, he could hear her laughing at his cowardice. In only a few tugs he felt his seed surge up and wet his hand. His essence spurted to the floor in glossy, pearly smears along with the dirt and dust and trash. His body shook with exertion and humiliation.
Sweat dripped from his temple as he knelt there trying to catch his breath. He felt dizzy and weak and numb in heart and body. His body screamed his cowardice and the liquid beneath him testified to what they both already knew.
Belle knelt by his side and lifted her chin in her hands. "Can you not even deny yourself pleasure in order to defy me? Do you not even have enough pride in yourself?"
"No," he replied submissively. He was a coward and always would be.
"I'm going to my bedroom," she stated suddenly and rose regally. A wicked smirk lined her face. "And you, coward, will not sleep in your cage tonight. Come along, we are far from finished this day."
For a moment he thought of saying no and allowing her to end his miserable life in a fit of rage. He even thought of actually trying his hand at escape, but then his cowardice returned always reminding him he would always lack courage.
He couldn't leave; he could never try to rebuff her commands. She was his coward.
Wordlessly, Rumpelstiltskin arose and without protest followed his mistress.