Thank you for the lovely reviews you lovely people! They really keep me going and give me so much joy.
Here is part deux. Fair warning, here there be BDSM themes. Enjoy!
A visor of Saturday morning sunlight woke Sarah from her deep sleep. Stretching her arms and her legs she relished in the pleasant soreness before rising. Tossing on a large t-shirt and fleece PJ bottoms she went about her mundane morning routine. Brushed her teeth with the same old toothbrush, drank the same old coffee blend. Ate the same old banana and oatmeal. She was halfway to convincing herself it had all been a marvelous dream when she saw a scrap of midnight blue on the floor by the wall. Putting down her breakfast she went and picked it up.
Her nightgown, utterly ruined. Holding it up to the light she saw the extent of the damage. Not a dream then, it had been real. But it was only upon seeing the flimsy fabric torn to shreds in the harsh light of day that fear began to take root in her heart.
Why had she done that? How could she be so reckless? One doesn't liaison with a Fae king, one survives him. He could have just as easily done this to her if he had felt the desire. And she would have been powerless to stop him, having invited him into her home. Why? Because she was curious, and strangely desperate for him. Her head now clear in the wake of all that relieved tension, she was aghast at herself.
"Stupid Sarah, that was stupid. What if he had taken you? What if he had gotten to Toby again?" She briefly considered the cost and reward of her actions before one word dominated her mind.
"Nope."
UhUh. Never again. Fin. Do not pass go do not collect $200. Quit while you're ahead. You had an amazing night and it's a miracle it ended there. Don't tempt the fates.
She angrily crumpled up the gown and tossed it into the kitchen garbage.
Time to change the locks.
With the urgency of a woman either dying or giving birth she quickly got dressed and rushed out to shop for supplies.
Returning home, arms heavy with bags and she kicked shut the door. Dumping it all on the ground she grabbed a garbage bag from the new box and scooped up all the ritual trimmings from last night. Making double plus sure that not even a speck of owl feather could be found anywhere. Taking the lot all the way down the street to a restaurant dumpster just to be safe.
The next couple hours saw her turning her apartment into the least hospitable place for Fae.
She lined all her windows and doors with salt and raven feathers. Her steel pots and cast-iron pans full of holly and mistletoe in every room. She'd had to resort to using her stainless-steel tea strainer for the bathroom. The scapula around her neck was stuffed with Red Balsam and a chunk of charged labradorite. A new candlestick made of ash wood sat on her table with an angry red candle inside. She drowned a notebook in scribbles, trying to find her right words. Everything prepared, she waited for the right time.
7:13 pm. Moonrise and sunset.
It had started to rain outside from heavy clouds, no matter. The celestial bodies still bore witness. Every light on in the house, she held a pack of matches in her slightly shaking hands.
Taking a deep breath, she lit one. A crack of lighting sounded nearby, and the wind started to howl.
Raising her hand, she lit the candle and spoke.
"The embers are dead. What I wrought I shall reap."
The windows started to shake against the protesting storm. Thunder rolled just overhead.
"My moor to mend, and my house to keep."
Lighting struck the tree outside her window shedding it of several branches, the flame put out quickly by the torrent. She nearly had to yell to be heard over the roaring wind.
"To all who seek entry, I turn you away. Old foes, friendly words. In the dark you shall stay.
I recede all invitations, destroy all gifts. Thus, with these words. The darkness, lifts."
There was a great silence. The rain stopping just as quickly as it had come. The pale orange light of sunset hitting the building next door. She let out a huge breath of relief.
"That was close, but it's over now."
Famous last words.
She's standing in her old room again. All the lights are off. Looking into her old mirror he sees no one else, but knows she isn't alone. That same presence now carrying a dangerous and predatory edge. A hand possessively fists through her hair while another wraps tightly around her waist as she begins to parrot old words to her reflection.
"I don't know why but, every now and again in my life, I need you. All of you."
Should you need me
"I'll call. Thank you, all of you."
You NEED ME. ALL of me.
"…No."
What?
"I don't need you."
A low snarl into her neck.
"What have you DONE?"
She wrenches free of his grasp and whirls on him.
Now they are both standing in a large room full of mirrors.
His eyes are hungry and feral, but his posture is defensive. Seizing the moment, she places her hands on her hips and stares down her nose at him.
"I should think that was obvious, majesty. You no longer have access to my person. And my will is as strong as yours. Your little glamour wasn't very hard to resist after I caught on to it. The real question is, how are you STILL able to infiltrate my dreams?"
He smiles wickedly at her. "Dreams are my domain, precious thing. Even your considerable power can't prevent me from…visiting."
Sarah considers this for a moment before fixing him with an icy gaze.
"But they are still MY dreams, are they not?"
He narrows his eyes at her in open suspicion as they slowly begin to circle each other.
"Indeed…they are."
A near manic grin spreads across her face.
"Well then."
An invisible force drives him backwards slamming him against the wall of mirrors. His wrists bound around his head by strong vines. He struggles but they hold him tight.
Sarah laughs loudly. Holding her shaking stomach.
"It would appear I still have the goblin's share of power here. And you, precious thing, are still my guest."
She waves her hand over her form and her sleeping attire transforms into head to toe oxblood leather. Her hair pulled up into high and tight ponytail. A matching crop appears in one hand. He goes very still, his eyes wide.
"Using a glamour on your host. How insatiably rude. I suppose its up to me to dole out punishment in these circumstances. How…tedious." She draws the last words out into a mocking tone. He bares his teeth at her and begins to struggle anew.
"Sarah, release me this instant!"He bellows.
"Hmmm." She pretends to consider, tilting her head to the side with her finger on her lips. Then weighing invisible odds with her hands.
"No, I think I shall not. It's high time you learned that this game you play has more than one player."
Snapping her fingers, AC/DC's Thunderstruck begins to play around them.
She stalks slowly up to him, her heeled boots echoing on the smooth marble floor. His breathing gets heavier and his eyes glaze over with lust as the vision before him and the sounds of violent guitar riffs and drums seep into his veins.
She brings the business end of the crop up to gently caress his face. Despite himself, he leans into the proxy. Allowing his eyes to softly close. She pulls it back and gives his unsuspecting countenance a sound THWACK!
Inhaling sharply at the pain he glares at her from underneath his disheveled hair. There's a begrudging excitement behind his eyes.
"Tit for tat, your highness. Let's begin with the destruction of my clothes."
The crop makes an ominous whine through the air as she brings it down in a harsh swipe. His tunic and jacket ripping open while buttons ping on the floor all around him. She takes a second to admire the hewn alabaster canvas now at her disposal.
She draws the tip of the crop slowly, lightly down his chest. His eyes clenched shut in anticipation and it slides down past his waist band.
She assertively hefts him with the flat, and he gasps in alarm.
"Very nice." She purrs, noticing how her treatment seems to be affecting him in full force.
"Maybe not so willful after all are you?" She chides. She glides up into his space, almost close enough to touch. But not quite.
His voice is quite hoarse now. His eyes drilling into hers, begging, "Please…let me touch you."
She brings her mouth to within and inch of his before pulling back.
"No, we aren't finished making reparations yet. Now what was next?"
When he doesn't answer she bring the crop crashing on the side of his thigh. This time he fails to hide a whimper as he hisses though his teeth and bites his lip.
"What was next?" She softly demands.
"The frosting."
"The frosting…?"
"Mistress."
She smiles at him a little in mock pride.
"Ah yes, edibles. Now I remember. Let's see how you deal with this little slice."
He goes to reproach her, but she hovers a finger above his lips.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Barely touching him, she draws her finger down his neck and around his chest is the same pattern he did. But it wasn't frosting she produced at her touch.
It was capsaicin.
He's panting in earnest now. The red, angry welt of skin in distress following in her wake. Pressing his back up against the mirror as if trying to retreat from the sensation.
"Ah! Sarah! It burns!"
TWACK!
"What was that?" she feigns.
"It burns, Mistress. It hurts."
"It does, doesn't it? I can make it stop. Would you like it to stop?"
He nods frantically.
"Yes, Mistress. Please."
She giggles in a juxtaposed coy fashion.
"Well, I suppose I could relieve you. But…"
She grabs him by the jaw and makes him look at her.
"You have to keep very, very still. And very, very quiet. Can you do that?"
She watches the submission cloud the last of the defiance in his eyes as he slowly nods again.
"Yes, Mistress."
"Very well, don't move."
He clenches his fist and closes his eyes in focus.
She ghosts her lips around his jawline to the skin under his ear where the path of fire started. His eyebrows knit tightly together under the torture.
Very slowly the brings her lips and tongue down on his skin. She feels him start to jerk, but he keeps himself in check. It's very difficult to do the same for herself, however. His skin seems to simmer with tingling power under her, and it's all she can do not to moan with pleasure herself.
She begins to follow the path she drew, willing icy relief to bloom everywhere her lips touch. She tests him by nipping playfully at his nipple, his breathing begins to hasten under the test of his control. The vines creak under the power of his desperate grip.
She descends at an agonizing pace. He's trembling. Until she sinks down onto her knees, lips hovering above his straining waistband.
"You can move and speak now."
A violent shudder racks him as a pitiful groan escapes his throat.
"Oh gods, someone, anyone, please deliver me."
"Look at me." She scolds.
He opens his eyes and looks down at her. They are wide and slightly misty from the exertion she's put him through.
"You have no gods but me."
The complete authority in her voice has him responding automatically now.
"Yes, Mistress."
"It appears as though we've arrived at our next destination on your road to redemption."
He watches, fascinated. As she rolls down his pants and frees him. Her persona cracks ever so slightly at the impressive sight of him. She had meant to tease him more at this point. But she can't wait, tossing her crop to the side.
She reaches an arm through his legs to wrap around his thigh as she pulls him viciously into her mouth.
His knees start to buckle, and he cries out as she takes all of him that she possibly can. Working slowly and deliberately, savoring every inch. She finds she can't take all of him, and savagely grips whatever else is exposed in her hand.
She plays deaf to the litany of pleas and threats that pour from his mouth as she works. But she's enjoying every minute of it. Goblin King, more like Goblin slave.
He starts to buck wildly into her throat, and she holds on for dear life.
"Mistress! Sarah! Yes please. Please don't stop. Oh, gods yes, so close!"
Indeed, she can feel him begin to tighten within her. His cries starting to keen.
So, she stops. Releasing him unceremoniously and stepping back from him.
His eyes snap open in fiery outrage. Be begins to struggle violently again, this time trying to use his legs to pry himself off the wall.
"What?! No! Please, you can't leave me like this Sarah. I can't take it!"
"I'd say this makes us even. Goodnight, Jareth." She waves cutely at him before waking up cackling. She would have sworn she heard his roar of fury.
With a crowing smile she says to herself,
"Well, Sarah girl. You sure got his attention."
Notes: Red Balsam means 'Do not touch me" in the language of flowers. Labradorite keeps negative energy at bay. Holly and mistletoe ward against evil spirits.