"What made you change into this… this type of person?" I asked. His eyes lowered to his drink as he swirled the remaining contents. The ice clinked against the glass softly, the only noise that filled the room.
"I'm not ready to discuss such details with you," said Mr. Gold politely. I felt his coldness through his words. I wanted to know why he was the way he was, but knew not to press the issue. I looked down at my lap, wondering what to say or do next.
"I should be getting back home now," I said quietly, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I'm sorry."
"What are you sorry for?" Mr. Gold's features changed from cold to confusion. He stood up, following me towards the door. "You have done nothing wrong."
"I think it would be best if we do not see each other until my time is up." I exhaled, looking into his eyes. "You want to have this hold on me, but I'm still a bit wary of all of this. If this is going to become a relationship of any kind, I need to know more about you. You already know so much about me, don't I deserve the same regard?"
Mr. Gold's hand gripped his cane tightly. "No one has ever cared to get to know me."
"Don't you think it's time you share not only your body with another person, but also your feelings and emotions?"
He scoffed at my words. "IF that time comes, Miss French, things shall be revealed. But I will say this: you better be ready for what I tell you, because my life is fifty shades of fucked up."
We stood in the doorway, his face inches away from mine. "I would still want to know."
He heaved a sigh, and shook his head before kissing me softly. "Good night, Belle."
. . .
The last day of work was both a lament and celebration. This would be the last time I would ever ring up another customer. It would also be the last time I would ever have to pay bills, worry about buying groceries, or anything ever again. It was the day I had waited for and dreaded at the same time.
Mr. Clark brought out a cake after my shift had ended with Good Luck Belle emblazoned on it in blue icing. I gave him a polite hug, and thanked him for his thoughtfulness, and took a small piece. I was going to miss Mr. Clark; his sneezing, his kindness, but I would not miss working those long hours and the mediocre pay.
Once I arrived home, I gathered all of my packed clothes, and piled them in my car before heading over to Mr. Gold's house. I gathered my things, and walked up the stairs where he was waiting for me in the doorway, smiling warmly. "So glad that you're here. Now the real fun can begin."
Rumplestilzkin flew to his tower, slamming the door behind him. Rummaging through his potions and vials, he tried to catch his breath as he searched. He cursed to himself as an empty vial fell to the floor and cracked because of his shakiness. "Damn her, damn Regina!" he growled to the empty room. "Damn that whole family to hell! I taught dear old mother and daughter magic, and this is how I am repaid? My very own progeny turns against me?"
Again he perused the glasses while muttering to himself. "Aha! This is the one! Protect the girl from harm and dread, nothing one does will bring about her death!"
The vial glowed a bright pink, and Rumplestilzkin uncorked it, and blew across the opening. The air shimmered with a bright pink glow, and sunk under the immense tower door, following its master's orders. "A protection spell for Belle," sighed the Dark One wearily. "After tonight, she will no doubt try to run again. I'm nothing but a beast to her and the world. I've proven that to her and Regina tonight…"
Still wrapped in the robe Rumplestilzkin had given her, Belle sat on her bed in her room. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. He had taken her by force, he had pleasured her and caused her pain at the same time. But despite it all, deep down inside, she liked it.
Belle wondered what that mirror really was, but thought better than to ask Rumplestilzkin. After all, he probably did not wish to see her, and it was best to not question anything, lest angering the Dark One.
The beauty decided to throw on her nightclothes, and get to bed. She was tired from their wild lovemaking, and very sore. She longed for a soothing hot bath, but decided against it. As she changed, she noticed a pink tinge in the air. She inhaled sharply, and suddenly the pink mist had faded away. She shrugged it off, and went to bed.
Rumplestilzkin walked slowly down from his tower, and headed back towards the room that held the dark mirror. He entered the room, and took off the sheet he had previously thrown over it. "Regina," he said with venom in his voice. "I see you there beneath this glassy surface. You will leave my whore alone. You know that I am far more powerful than you, so don't even attempt to find anything to bring me down. Because, my sweet little protégé, I made you and I can destroy you just as easily."
Regina, the Evil Queen of fairytale land appeared fully in the mirror before him. She was dressed in a black dress with a high collar, showing ample amounts of cleavage. Her ruby red lips were upturned into a smirk, her eyes lined and shaded dark with kohl and ebony, giving her appearance the equivalent to her nature. She was a product of the Dark One's teaching, and it showed both on the outside and the inside.
"Don't think I'm blind, Rumple," hissed the cunning Evil Queen. "I'm going to find your weakness, and when I do, I will make you bend to my will. Remember, you created this monster, and now you will have to live with it forever."
Her image rippled just as her laughter rang through the room, echoing and bouncing around him. With a grunt, he threw the sheet back over the mirror just as her laughter began to fade away.
A tempest was brewing from within Rumplestilzkin as he warred with himself. He hated himself for having any sort of feelings for the princess. She was supposed to be his whore, his slave to do his bidding as he had told Regina. That was the initial plan when he had appeared at court; save the wretched people of Avonlea, and take their princess as a bartering tool to exert his desires of the flesh. But he never planned to actually LIKE Belle, nor even, dare he say it, LOVE her.
No, he would never admit that he loved her. It was a stretch to even admit he cared for her deeply. He shook himself mentally. He would have to work harder to disguise his feelings for her, to bury his love for her deep within the recesses of his being where no one would ever find it.
"So tell me," said Mr. Gold as he guided her into her bedroom. "How do you like your room?"
"It's very nice, thank you," I replied politely. "But I-I thought w-we'd-"
"No, dearie," said Mr. Gold with a small chuckle and a warm smile. "I do not allow my submissives to sleep with me in my bed. My bed is not for sleeping, but for pleasuring my submissives."
I nodded in understanding and began to unpack my clothes in the large wooden dresser. I looked up in the mirror that hung on the wall in front of me, and saw that Mr. Gold was watching me as I unpacked my lingerie, and I saw him walk away as I caught his eye in the mirror. "I should remove that mirror," he said to himself, almost inaudibly.
"Please don't," I said, turning to face him. "It's quite lovely. It's great craftsmanship."
"You don't know how much trouble mirrors can be," said Mr. Gold as he stepped closer towards me. He pressed his lips against mine urgently. "Don't be long packing. I want to get started."
I shivered as he left the room, left with so many questions that I wanted and did not want answered. What would he make me do? What would he do to me?
I stepped into the hallway after I had finished. I searched up and down the hall, not wanting to go exploring through his house. "Mr. Gold? I've finished unpacking."
"And just in time," he replied from behind as he covered my eyes with a blindfold. "Don't remove the blindfold. Disobey, and there will be punishment."
His voice was hot and harsh in my ear, and the thought of punishment made me remember my sore ass from a few weeks ago, so I decided against removing my blindfold. I kept quiet as he maneuvered me through the house, eventually throwing me down on what I assumed to be his bed. Mr. Gold took off my blouse first, then he undid the clasp of my bra, freeing my breasts. He began to work on my jeans button and zipper before easing them down my legs, along with my panties. My heart thundered in my chest as I wondered what he planned to do next.
"Get on your hands and knees," he said huskily. I tried to do so as quickly and as less uncoordinatedly as I could. "No, here, on the memory foam pad." He guided my knees and hands onto the soft pad. "Perfect. Don't want my submissive to be in any unwanted pain."
His hands were on my waist, positioning my ass in the air and arching my back so that my arms were touching the floor. I whimpered as he plunged a finger into me, toying my clit and sending me reeling. "Dearie, you are perfect. That ass. That wonderfully tight and wet hole. You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now…"
His fingers teased and pumped rhythmically inside me, causing me to shudder and lose my breath. The memory foam mat held me in place, even when I thought I might fall, as he continued his relentless teasing. I moaned as his fingers quickened their pace, and then he withdrew his fingers. I breathed heavily, lamenting the loss of pleasure and release. Just then, I felt his fingers, wet with my come, upon my lips. "Taste yourself," said Mr. Gold huskily. I did as he commanded, sucking his fingers. He groaned as I sucked his fingertips, letting go with a small pop. "You are delicious. And now, my delicious dearie, I am going to fuck you until come everywhere. I am going to make you come so hard, you will see other worlds in the process."
My heart pounded, and my sex clenched in anticipation. I heard his trousers unzip and fall to the floor, and soon his hands were on my waist, guiding me into position. He slapped my ass, and ran a finger down my ass cheeks, rimming my tight hole. "One day, my sweet," he said in a dark, seductive voice. "I will claim your sweet ass. But tonight is not that night…"
He pressed himself into my wet and awaiting folds, and I nearly came undone as he slowly buried himself inside me. Soon, he began to quicken his pace, and I started to loose my breath once more. He pounded relentlessly into me, grunting and gripping my hips tightly. I cried out loudly as I reached my peak, but he did not stop. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me as he pushed through my orgasm, and I exploded. Soon after, Mr. Gold groaned as he emptied himself inside me. I took a deep, shuddering breath as he withdrew from my wet folds and undid my blindfold.
I watched as he pulled his pants back on, and then opened a drawer at his end table, withdrawing a small tube. "I promise, it won't hurt," he said gently as he placed some cream on his finger and began to rub it on my sex. "This is to help with the pain. I tend to over exert myself in the bedroom, and since you are not as experienced, I would rather you not be too sore after our sessions."
"Thank you," I said softly.
"I've always done this to all my submissives," said Mr. Gold as he finished, and put the cream away. "If I wanted you to be sore or in pain, I would make it so, but for now, my beautiful submissive, you will be pleasured…"
He felt himself summoned as he watched Belle reading in the library the next day, and he knew he had to go. Cora was summoning him, and if he did not come to her, she would come to him. And the latter would cause more consequences than the first.
"Belle, I must be off. I won't be too long. Please tend to the things that need cleaning and tidying up while I'm gone, and then you can relax when I return. Do not let anyone in the castle, do not go poking around in any rooms."
"Yes," said Belle, her head bowed. She marked her book, and placed it on the desk before leaving to clean the hallway. Rumplestilzkin disappeared in a flash of magic, leaving the beauty on her knees, bucket and rag in hand, as she scrubbed the castle floor.
She hummed a little tune to herself as she worked to pass the time, and jumped when there was a knock at the door. "Who could that be?" wondered Belle as she walked toward the door. She peered through the keyhole, and noticed it was an elderly lady. "Hello?"
"Pretty combs for sale," said the old woman in a creaky voice. "Pretty hair pins for pretty ladies."
Belle opened the door slightly. "You're a saleswoman?"
"Just a poor, old beggar woman selling her wares to make some money for her bread," sighed the old woman. "Ah! You are a beauty! You must have one of my hair pins! A lovely rose one for a beauty, such as yourself!"
"But I haven't any money," Belle sighed sadly. "And I do not think it right to take from the master of the house…"
"This isn't your house?" asked the crone, her voice creaking in curiosity and surprise. "Whose is it then?"
"Rumplestilzkin's," said Belle.
"Oh, you poor dear!" wailed the beggar woman. "You must be so downtrodden! The monster must be keeping you captive for his will. I tell you what. I will give you this rose pin here without charge for your sufferings."
"I-I cannot take anything from you," stammered Belle nervously. "Please, far be it from me to take bread out of a beggar's mouth-"
"Oh, please," sighed the old woman kindly. "You would be doing me a disservice by not taking it. Take it, it will look so lovely nestled in your beautiful curly brown hair…"
"If you insist," sighed Belle. She took the pin from the elderly woman, and sighed as she placed it within her hair. She gasped suddenly, unable to breathe. Soon, the crone's features melted away to reveal the woman from the mirror, the Evil Queen, Regina. Belle choked and gasped as Regina disappeared in a puff of black smoke. With all of her might, Belle wrenched the pin from her hair, but it was too late. She fell to the floor, overturning the bucket of filthy water she was using to clean the hallway.
A/N: I do not know if any of my wonderful readers have noticed, but lately I have had an anonymous commenter leave hateful, nasty comments saying that I should stop writing, my stories are redundant, and that I am not writing according to the television show, Once Upon A Time. For a while, I felt scared to write, and even wanted to give up and just delete everything and stop writing. But that would let this anonymous person win, and I will never let that happen. So, my dearies, instead of saying terrible things about this unknown person to you, what I will say is, what I've come to realize is that not everyone will like my stories, and that's fine with me. The greatest writers in the world always have those who criticize and call their work filth. I will overcome this, because, as Henry Mills says, "Good ALWAYS overcomes evil." I love you, my readers. xoxo