Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the Labyrinth.

Warning: dubious consent, disturbing events. Potentially triggering topics—EDs/ body image related triggers. Graphic depictions of sexual acts in this chapter.

AN: read the warning. Heed it as well. :)

Chapter 10: Devoured

The space beside the small, barred window is her only solace in her sterile prison—she spends the day looking at the labyrinthine structure below as it changes throughout the day. She calculates it's been three, or perhaps four days since she's gotten here—the exact sense of time seems to escape her, but she knows it's only been a few days. Any more and she'll go insane.

Her days have been quite routine, she's sure he's done that on purpose—she's left to her own devices during the day with nothing to do but stare out of the pathetic little window in her room. Smirking to herself she wonders whether he's trying to torture her with boredom. Like that's going to work. Evenings, she's asked to accompany him to some social event or the other. Her hearing and vision, while clearing up a little, are still hazy, for the most part—except when it comes to him and the Labyrinth.

Her nights take on a life of their own, the nightmares he sends her are getting more and more adventurous. She can feel his skin on hers, the weight of his body pressing against her—making her writhe in suffocation and pleasure simultaneously. She shivers with equal measures of revulsion and lust—he'd crossed a line last night that he never had before. She'd awoken, sodden with need and weeping with desire. She'd touched herself immediately after waking up, but, experiencing only a blip of an orgasm, she hadn't found relief.

Frowning, she wonders why he's afraid of actually fucking her—it's not like she's magical. Sure, she seems to have some sort of power, but she's definitely no match for him. So far, he's only told her that the play is real—that she's the girl and he's the King. The story doesn't affect her one bit, as she has no recollection of wishing her brother away or running the Labyrinth.

Still…her pretty face screws up in concentration, there has to be something she can use to her advantage. Think, Williams, think.

The King paces his chambers, his strides strong and graceful, fury alighting his mismatched. He curses the mortal—he never expected her to be this rigid. In his experience, most mortals, when faced with a reality that's beyond their comprehension, tended to crumble—not her. She refuses his very generous offer with a sly gleam in her eyes. He curses her again, in all twelve languages that he knows.

The moment she solved the Labyrinth, the entity became hers—she'd won it from him. She cannot simply hand it back to him, nor can he forcefully take it from her, even if she's an entrapped possession. She was correct in stating that possessions could be traded or discarded—consequently, should she ever belong to another, the Labyrinth would shift with her. He crushes a cylindrical crystal in his hands at the thought. He'd never allow that.

A grim smile twists his lips—she'd also been correct in thinking that he did not want a 23-year-old mortal Queen, even as a consort. He's spent years trying to find an alternative route, but all of his efforts have proved useless. The girl may as well be chained to the Labyrinth, their fates are entwined. He has come to accept that certain events couldn't be helped—making her Queen consort one of them.

And then there's her connection with him. During their final confrontation, she had foolishly touched one of his crystals with her bare hands, and the bauble had shattered at her finger tips. In doing so, she'd left a part of her mortal essence behind…with him.

Throwing his wispy head back, the King laughs a bitter laugh—he'd told her that he couldn't live within her. How ironic that her essence seems to live within him. Everything about him—his magic has been affected since, and he is powerless to stop the change. This time, he's been wise enough to place her in a room that shuns magic, hence she can't cause any damage there.

He wonders how long his willpower will last—those dreams affect both of them. He feels like he's dying of a specific kind of thirst that he can never quench, unless it's with her. Placing his ceremonial crown of spiky thorns on his unruly mane, the Goblin King transports himself to his mortal obsession's stark white room, hoping tonight is the night she finally breaks.

"Sarah." His rich baritone cascades off the stone walls as he arrives in her room. His severe lips twitch with repressed amusement when he catches her looking outside.

She turns around unhurriedly. "Is this routine going to continue forever?"

A dark chuckle. "It's only forever, my dear, not long at all."

Her brows furrow in her forehead. How she hates it when he speaks in riddles. "Are you trying to bore me to death?"

He walks towards her, his boots clicking against the stone floor. "Here I thought I was keeping you entertained. Have you changed your mind regarding my offer?"

"Sex dreams at night and boredom during the day—that's not adequate entertainment, is it? I haven't changed my mind."

He closes the distance between them, his gloved hands on her frail shoulders. The dress he's chosen looks exquisite on her—dark, emerald colored silk that drapes over one shoulder, showing off her sharp, convex shoulder blades.

"Ah yes, the dreams," he rumbles, "Say the word and I'll make each one of those dreams a reality, precious." His hands move down to her thin upper arms—each of which he encircles with his fingers, thumb touching forefinger. "However, if it's torture that you want, we can visit my dungeons. My council would be pleased that if I closed this issue for once and for all."

The threat in his low and seductive voice doesn't go unnoticed—a flash of fear crosses her face. She fights to put on a bold expression. "Humans use pain, sex, or death for torture—you're clearly not going to have sex with me, nor are you going to kill me. So I guess, pain it is."

"As I said, that can be arranged, precious." His thumbs caresses the sensitive skin on the insides of her arm in slow circles. "Are you sure your answer remains the same?"

"Yes. You can't torture me into marrying you," she replies, her voice resolute.

This surprises him. "Marriage is a human concept, my dear—we do not have an equivalent. Being my Queen consort does not mean you're married to me."

Her jade eyes widen. "Could I retire from being Queen at some point?"

An almost gentle expression crosses his face. "No, my darling. Once Queen, you belong to the Kingdom until you die."

"My answer's still the same then. I plan on going back."

The Goblin King laughs a deliberately mocking laugh. "Oh you poor dear," he says, running his hands through her hair until his gloved fingers are completely entwined within her thick locks. "My sweet little darling," he whispers, his voice chillingly calm, his lips grazing her temple. "How naïve you are." Saying that, he pulls her hair sharply, making her cry out in pain as she's forced to look up at him.

"I will go back," she states with all the bravado she can muster.

"You, my sweet, have been devoured—the crust of the very planet you live on has been ripped open, and you have been devoured whole. You've left your world behind without a trace." He pulls her close—his body suddenly hot as she struggles. How he'd like to rip this beautiful dress and sink his teeth into her tender flesh.

Her eyes widen as she feels her chest constrict tightly. Without a trace? For the first time she wonders what her family thinks—dad and Karen must be worried sick. And Toby…the thought of her brother brings tears to her eyes.

The Goblin King looks on, his mismatched eyes glitter with cruel amusement. "How does it feel to be so powerless, my dear?" he asks, his tone merciless. "What do you suppose your family will think—that you've been kidnapped? Perhaps tortured? Perhaps you're suffering a fate worse than death?" He laughs darkly. "How do you suppose your father will react to that? His poor little girl suffering at the hands of a monster?"

Just like that, her tears stop flowing. "I hate you."

The Goblin King looks across the hall at the mortal—she sits calmly where he's last left her. He's been awaiting a reaction, any reaction, from her for the last few days—but she's surprised him by showing uncharacteristic composure.

A small, victorious smirk stretches her lips when she notices the Goblin King stare at her. He's a fool if he doesn't realize that she's always aware when he watches her. She sits still and calmly looks at the view outside the massive window next to her.

She goes over all the information she's gathered so far—words have immense power. That's how he's ensnared her in this position. He is far more powerful than she imagined, and while he seems to be afraid her in some capacity, she cannot fight him and win. He cares about her in however a fucked up manner—he could have tortured her by now, but he hasn't.

The Goblin King smirks a victorious smirk of his own as one of the seven Sky Queens approaches him. He knows exactly how to test his mortal's serenity. She could definitely stand to see what she's missing out, and he could use some relief.

She can see him from the corners of her eyes—his body stretched out sensuously. She notices that his gloves are gone as he runs a hand through his hair and loosens his shirt collar. What is he…? That's when she notices her—a woman with ridiculously long, inky black hair and eyes as purple as the deepest shade of amethyst. She opens his buttons, one by one, as her hands explore his chest.

Sarah can't stop herself from turning towards the lascivious display, her mouth open in shock and desire. He pushes the woman's shoulders until she's lying down on the pillows, her purple eyes shut as he pulls down her sleeves, exposing her breasts. A small moan escapes Sarah's throat when he closes his mouth over the raven haired woman's nipple—red hot lust surges through her body, and she suddenly feels intensely aroused. She imagines herself in the woman's position, and his mouth on her.

He grins sharply when he feels the weight of her gaze. Sweet mortal child, you're no match for me. His lips and teeth suckle the Sky Queen's breasts while fingers caress her inner thighs before moving to her hot center. He teases her, entering her with one finger, then two—enough to arouse her without giving her release.

Feeling a rush of wetness in her core, Sarah squirms in her chair. She grips the armrests on either side to keep herself from caressing her own breasts. She's never felt lust like this before, and she feels like pulling the smirking King away from the woman he is with, and throwing herself at him.

Chuckling darkly, the Goblin King tilts his head and looks directly into his mortal's eyes as he pleasures the Sky Queen with his fingers. He drinks in her lust darkened eyes and tense body—his cock stirring, hardening as he imagines her in place of the woman beneath him at the moment. The Sky Queen writhes, her skin flushes and her muscles tense. "Jareth," she cries as he rubs against a spot deep within her, finally granting her release.

Maintaining eye contact with him throughout the woman's orgasm, Sarah's breaths come out in shallow pants as she fights to keep herself from rocking against the stone chair she sits on. She gasps when she sees him place his fingers in the woman's mouth, letting her suck her own juices.

They switch positions—the Goblin King lies back, propped on his elbows while the woman kneels in between his thighs as she frees his impressive erection from his pants. She slowly takes him in her mouth, inch by inch before bobbing her head up and down in slow movements.

Sarah feels another rush of wetness in her core as she sees the euphoric expression on his face, his eyes half closed with lust. His places his hands around the woman's head and thrusts into her mouth, not roughly, but not gently either. Sarah wonders what it would feel like to have him at her own mercy in that way. So far, the erotic nightmares he sends have only focused on her. What would it feel like if the roles were reversed—if she held him on the brink of orgasm, running her tongue along his length? Sucking lightly on the spongy tissue at the tip? Would he beg her for release? The thought makes her flush.

His movements begin to get more forceful, he feels his cock hit the back of her throat with every thrust. His grip around her head tightens and his muscles tense. He's close—he tilts his head again, to look into his mortal's eyes. Her mouth parts open and her tongue darts outside to wet her lower lip. That's when he comes in the Sky Queen's mouth in hot, hard spurts—but his gaze remains fixed on his mortal.

A slow smile eases his lips, he's sure he'll break her tonight.

That night, she sits on her bed as she cranes her neck to look out of her pathetic little window. The Labyrinth looks magical, as if thousands of little fireflies have decided to light up all at once.

"Put us out of our collective misery, precious." His lilting voice interrupts the dead silence of the room.

She turns around at the sound of his voice, surprised to see him standing at the foot of her bed. He normally leaves her alone at nights, only to return the following evening.

"Goblin King," she says, her voice shaky as she takes him in—the bastard has shown up wearing navy colored, silk pajama bottoms. His chest is bare, and his hair falls in wild wisps around his face. "What do you want?"

Smiling darkly, he sits next to her—one hand absently plays with a lock of sable hair. "I want you to put us out of our misery, precious. Say yes." He gathers her long hair in one hand and arranges it on one side of her shoulder—leaving the other side bare.

"I can't," she all but pleads. "I'll do anything else to return the Labyrinth to you. Anything."

He places an open mouthed kiss on her bare shoulder, his tongue tasting the scent of her skin. "Sarah darling," he half croons, half whispers, "Do not say things you don't mean." He kisses his way up her neck, and along her jawline, his fingers slowly caressing the skin that covers the pulse beating wildly at the base of her neck.

A warm rush of desire crashes through her in waves—the memory of the evening still fresh in her mind. "I can't," she whispers back, closing her eyes, losing herself to the tantalizing sensation of his touch.

"Oh Sarah." He pulls away. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait," she begs, her eyes now wide open as they look at him beseechingly. "Don't leave me like this."

His breathing turns heavy when she leans towards him, when she runs her thin fingers down his chest. "Sarah," he begins, but cuts himself short when she runs her palm over his growing erection. That's when the Goblin King finally relents.

Perhaps he can give her a taste of pleasure…just a taste, he tells himself.

With a resounding growl, he shoves her so that she's on her back and encircles both of her wrists with one of his hands. Chuckling darkly as she struggles to free herself, he lowers his face so that it is inches from hers. "My feral mortal," he croons, before pulling her flimsy nightgown, and jerking the fabric hard enough to make it rip. He throws the ruined garment onto the floor, his voracious eyes taking in every inch of her exposed skin.

She growls right back—a sound that's a mix of fury and lust. She struggles against his grip, baring her teeth as he laughs. "It's only sex, Goblin King," she says, her voice hoarse. "Let's see if those dreams of yours really live up to reality." She realizes her mistake just as the words leave her mouth—she has issued him a challenge, and judging by the ravenous expression on his face, it's a challenge he's only too pleased to take.

The Goblin King raises a brow—his temper flaring at her insolence. A menacing smile twists his lips, if it's a challenge his mortal wants, that's what she'll get. He places a binding spell on both her wrists, as he situates her arms on either side of her body—he makes sure she's relaxed, but she cannot move. He can't help but laugh when she jerks against her invisible chains. At times like these he wonders whether she even realizes what she's fighting against. After all, isn't she the one who begged him to stay?

"My precious thing," he murmurs, his lips touching her ear before kissing his way below her neck. "I don't think you realize the terms of entrapment." His lips graze her collar bone, before slowly kissing their way down the valley between her breasts. Stroking the soft skin of her breasts with his fingers, he smiles against her skin when she gasps softly.

He looks into her eyes, not wanting to miss a moment. "I could strip you naked and ask you to kneel by my throne all day," his tone is mild, as if he's speaking of the weather. "Or perhaps I'll let you entertain my council."

She stops struggling to free her arms, and stares at him, wondering what to make of his very possible threats. "I don't think you'd do that," she says slowly. "You're possessive. You want me for your-" she gasps when she feels his tongue lightly trace her nipple.

"You give me far too much credit, Sa-rah," he says, his voice mockingly reproachful. "Do not make the mistake of assuming that I wouldn't resort to those actions. I am not a patient man, and you've kept me waiting far too long." His teeth nip the flesh on the tops of her breasts, hard enough to cause pain but not hard enough to break her flawless, silky skin. Unmarred…as of yet.

Her breathing turns slow and laborious as he places scorching, open mouthed kisses on the undersides of her breasts. His fingers caress her nipples in slow, languid strokes before his hands roughly push her breasts together, his teeth tugging at her hardened nipples.

She throws her head back as a low, agonizing moan escapes her lips, unable to deal with the sheer magnitude of desire he makes her feel. Her hips arch, hoping for some contact. Anything to assuage the acute pulsing knot in her core.

He drinks in her image as a twisted smile graces his face. She lies back, her chest heaving, her breasts protruding out. Her abdominal muscles clench, as if awaiting his touch, and her jade eyes are hazy with lust, hooded by dark, crescent shaped lashes.

"Bend your knees and pull up your legs."

A thrill runs down her spine—she does as he asks, awaiting his next move. She feels him caress the sensitive skin on the backs of her knees. Her legs tremble with anticipation as they part by their own accord, her feet braced flat on the mattress.

A deep chuckle. "So eager, my sweet," he murmurs, parting her thighs farther. He places a kiss on the inside of her upper thigh. "What do you want from me, Sa-rah?"

She moans low when his voice rumbles against her fevered flesh. She can almost feel his lips, only millimeters away from her quivering flesh. "Touch me," she whispers.

"You're going to have to be more specific than that, precious" he tells her, dark amusement prevalent in his voice. With skilled fingers, he parts her folds until her clitoris peeks out, begging to be flicked. But he doesn't—not just yet. Grinning wickedly, he blows cool air against her sensitive nub.

She cries out at the sensation, now completely desperate. "Fuck me like you do in my dreams."

He laughs, his rich voice sweeps through her body in pleasurable waves. "More specific, sweet."

She grits her teeth. "Pleasure me with your mouth."

"Oh, Sa-rah," he lowers his head, breathing in her scent. "I'm afraid I don't quite understand what you're trying to say."

She whimpers, feeling his lips so close. The memory of the raven haired woman he'd pleasured before replays in Sarah's head—the woman's face flushed in ecstasy, her mouth wide open, her head thrown back. "Jareth, please."

Her voice—hoarse with need, is music to his ears. "No euphemisms, Sarah," his tone is harsh and his eyes merciless, "Tell me what you want."

She keeps silent, her heart thudding in her chest, perspiration beading on her brow. Her inner muscles clench with anticipation—the sensation is agonizing, but she remains silent.

His gaze sharpens with cruel humor. "Come now, precious. You've been spirited away from your world, and are literally at my mercy. Yet you're still hesitant about using your right words." His grip on her thighs tightens, his touch bordering on painful. "Now tell me what you want."

Throwing her head back, she squeezes her eyes shut as his voice vibrates around her clit.

The Goblin King's gaze turns savagely predatory. "I can't wait to taste you, Sarah, that's what you want, isn't it?" His honeyed voice is at odds with the expression on his face. A sadistic smirk twisting his lips when she sucks in a deep breath.

"Yes," she whimpers. His lips are so close…so close…if she could just move her hips a little….she lets out a frustrated groan when she realizes she cannot, his grip is absolutely arresting.

He laughs—a triumphant sound. "I can't wait to run my tongue along that wet little cunt of yours," he breathes his words, his tone low and coaxing. "Do you want me to suckle your clitoris until you come? Or do you want me to fuck you with my tongue, keep you wet and wanting, and taste you in long, slow strokes, until you beg?" He lays kisses along her inner thighs, his tongue reaches out to taste her arousal soaked skin. "I'll do anything you want, precious—just say your right words."

She can't fight the need any longer, his words are driving her utterly insane. Giving in to his demands, she says what he wants to hear. "Devour me," she says, her lust hooded gaze hooked onto his, "Fuck me with your tongue, your mouth, your teeth."

His grin is absolutely victorious. "As my lady demands."

AN: So. Many fics deal with J giving S 'certain powers' that remain with her after she leaves. I thought it'd be interesting if S left a piece of herself behind within J. How would that affect him?

Good Lord, I didn't think this fic would turn out to be so long. Let me know what you think.

Also—PSA—my husband told me I was very irresponsible to advise young people to try cocaine and E—I was like 'dude, it's not like people are going to go out and do what a random fanfic author tells them' and he was like 'they could actually die.' So—here goes—don't do coke or E when you can, technically crush up Ritalin and… (I kid, I kid). But seriously though, join a gym—there's nothing like a nice buzzing high you get after an intense cardio session.

When you're older you can barely drink (overdo it and you're in hell the next day) and the only recreational stuff you can do is maybe smoke some green stuff…once in a while. So…I still say carpe diem.