OK, so this is the first time I've written smut, for this or any other fandom. I am going to say up front that this is kind of dark, so don't read on if you aren't prepared to be a little taken aback. Swears, smut and Dark!Jareth all make an appearance.
Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth etc. etc.
The room was dark, that was the first thing besides the ache behind her eyes that Sarah noticed when she came to. The second was that her arms were bound, it seemed with leather straps, pulling her against a stone or brick wall. Her shoulders ached with the strain of having held her body weight while she had been unconscious, yet now as she struggled to stand she realized how cold the floor was. She barely felt the sting as she stepped on a sharp stone that was beneath her, so numb were her feet.
As her eyes slowly adjusted to the small amount of light in the cell, she noticed that the clothes she had been wearing were gone, a simple cotton shift in their place. The gown was of a rough homespun cloth that scratched at her skin with a million tiny, jagged little nails, a sharp contrast to the pull of the smooth, cold leather on her wrists. She had no recollection of how she had come to this place, and as she struggled to remember, she could only see a hazy silhouette in her mind.
She called out a tentative "Hello," not really expecting an answer. She had seen enough movies to realize that usually when women were in this predicament, anyone who was within hearing distance was usually not very likely or willing to help them out of it. Again, she struggled to remember—the last thing she knew for sure was that she had been on her way to meet Alex in the park. There was a fruit stand on the corner, and she had bought two peaches. Though she'd had an aversion to them for quite some time due to a nightmare she had experienced in her teens, lately they were the only thing she wanted to put in her mouth aside from a nice fizzy moscato and Alex's cock.
She really hoped Alex wasn't the reason she was here now. Following years of dating loser after loser, it would be just her luck to land a serial killer who preyed on brunette psych majors. Alex didn't fit any of the criteria for serial killers, but perhaps he was a new breed. Or perhaps Sarah wasn't quite as good at identifying those kinds of character traits as she had thought. Maybe it wasn't a serial killer thing at all, though. Maybe it was some kind of roleplaying game instead, where he pretended that she was a captured virgin soon to be sacrificed to some dragon or sea creature or other Harryhausen creation and came bursting in at the last second dressed in only lace-up sandals and a metal miniskirt. Whatever it was, she hoped he got on with it soon.
As if her captor had read her mind, a door opened across from her, letting in a bright, blinding light that forced her to squint as her eyes began to water. She could only make out a silhouette at first, but at the sight of it, her stomach knotted in terror.
"You're not real. I know you're not real." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but she knew he had heard what she had said from the laugh he expelled.
"How soon we forget, Sarah, how soon we forget." The man stepped forth from the doorway and she saw his face, a sight she hadn't seen in years. She had changed, oh how she had changed, but he remained the same. His hair was still just as golden, his eyes still as blue, his lips just as pink with the tiniest hint of gloss…it was as if time had stood still as far as he was concerned. He even wore almost the same clothes—blue velvet jacket, tight gray pants and a frilly white shirt, though this time it was open nearly to his navel.
"I dreamed you. It was just a dream, my therapist said so." She shook her head as if to make him disappear.
"You should probably demand a refund, dear girl, because I promise you, I am just as real as you are." He smiled and stepped closer. "And oh, my dear Sarah, how real you have become." As he spoke, he reached out and caressed her face, his hand trailing down across her chest.
Her eyes closed and she could feel her chest beginning to flush. "Jareth," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. How she had dreamed of this moment, night after night, longed for it even if he wasn't real.
"Did that not feel real enough?" he asked, teasing her. "Perhaps you would like me to touch you again?" He didn't wait for her response, but placed his long, delicate fingers around her left breast, cupping it gently before moving to squeeze her already erect nipple. Sarah moaned and could feel herself growing moist against her control.
Jareth laughed, that same cruel sound that had haunted her dreams. "You're not too good for my advances now, are you my dove?" He stepped back, grabbing her chin roughly with right hand and looking deep into her eyes. "No, you've become quite the little harlot from what I can tell. It didn't take you long after leaving this place to give your first blow job, if I recall correctly. And of course, it wasn't long until that wasn't good enough for you. I mean, after all, what fun is a blow job for you? A shot in the face and a sore jaw—hardly worth the fuss at all."
"How dare you!" Sarah hissed, trying to wrench her head free from his grasp. "Were you fucking spying on me, you pervert?"
Jareth's eyes narrowed and he slapped her on the cheek hard enough to leave a handprint. "Oh, Sarah, the language you've acquired," he said, shaking his head and clucking his tongue. "But I guess that's to be expected from a common street whore. Tell me, Sarah, how many men have you fucked since I let you go?"
"Fuck you," Sarah said, and spit in his face right between those beautiful, accusatory blue eyes. Jareth quickly made a matching print on her other cheek.
"I suppose I deserved that," he said, and laughed again. "A man should never ask a lady how many conquests she has had, even if it is enough to man a naval destroyer."
"What the fuck do you want from me, Jareth?" Sarah hissed, pulling against her restraints.
"I want what I wanted the first time I ever saw you," he replied, his voice rising. "I want to touch you, to kiss you, to take your maidenhead and hear you cry out in beautiful painful pleasure when I do. But I can never have that now, can I? Do you even remember his name, Sarah? The first man to venture into your sweet demesnes, the first man you ever felt inside you, or did you forget as soon as he slipped the condom off and got dressed?"
"What about you, Jareth? Do you remember the first person you ensnared? The first human to feel the sting of your hatred? Or have we all become nothing more than playthings to you? How long does your love for your prey last once you have them in your claws?" Sarah did her best to remain defiant in the face of his abuse. "Who I've fucked is none of your business. You asked too much of me, and you changed everything I was. You don't get to own me. You don't get to own anyone."
"Sarah, I can do as I please," Jareth said, laughing again. "I am the Goblin King."
"And what does that mean outside this little realm, Jareth? I'll tell you what it means—absolutely nothing. This is the extent of your power and you know that."
Jareth got close enough to her that she could see the tiny imperfections in his skin. "You shut your fucking mouth!" he yelled, spittle flying onto her cheeks.
"Fucking make me," she hissed, and he grabbed her face and pulled it to his own kiss. His tongue entered her mouth urgently, moving as if it were a snake seeking heat. She guided it with her own, gently massaging it until it became more about pleasure and less about invasion. She could feel a heat building within her as they kissed, and came desperately close to giving in before raising her knee up to meet his bulging cock. It was a direct hit, and he fell to the floor groaning in pain and clutching his crotch.
"You fucking bitch!" he cried.
"You're just fucking lucky I'm restrained," she said, "or I would rip your goddamn throat out!"
"I'll make you pay for that, you goddamned slut!" Jareth said, rising to his feet.
"What are you going to do, Jareth? Roofie me with another fucking peach? You're so goddamned pathetic that you can't even get a woman to come near you without drugging her first."
"And you're so fucking stupid that you can't see that the only reason men want you is because they know you're an easy fuck," he said, reaching into his coat and pulling out a rag and a bottle.
Sarah didn't even struggle when he covered her face.