Chapter 8.

He placed his hand to her brow, deepening the troubled sleep. Quietly he slipped from the bed and pulled his long dressing gown over his naked form. He stared at the girl, sleeping with a tear still staining her soft cheek. Jareth tapped his chin with long fingers, as he contemplated.

This was to be his moment of triumph, his victory over the girl who'd rejected him. But it was not triumph he was feeling, there was a bitter taste in his mouth and he felt the victory was hollow. In one quiet utterance she had stolen his thunder.

Cursing under his breath, the Goblin King exited the bedroom. He walked down the long staircase and headed for his study. He looked at the clock; it was just a little past two in the morning. He knew his other guests were enjoying the hospitality of his decadent house. There were wicked and evil games being played in other rooms. He poured a brandy, moved to the intercom and pressed a button. "Pablo, come to the study. "

The other entered the study; his rumpled appearance said he'd been called from his bed. Jareth poured him a brandy as well. "I apologies for calling you from your games with the oh so interesting little Sophie."

Pablo accepted the brandy snifter and smiled wickedly. "Not a problem, my King. I left my sweet Sophie tied up, she likes anticipation. It heightens her release, she will be only too glad when I return and give her what she so richly deserves."

Jareth sipped his brandy, looked over the rim and asked. "Do you really care about that creature?"

"I told you sire, this one I would marry." Pablo studied the other man. "I don't think my feelings for the wicked little Sophie are why you called me here. What vexes thee?"

"Sarah." Jareth paced as he drank.

Pablo thought of Sarah in the white gauzy gown, "Was the gift a disappointment, Sire?"

The Goblin King shook his head, "No, she was delightful, and respondent and utterly satisfying." Jareth growled lowly in the back of his throat. "She will be an amusing distraction for some time to come."

"Yet you are vexed." Pablo lounged on the long leather sofa in the study. "Why?"

Jareth emptied his glass to the dregs. "She called out my name and asked forgiveness in her sleep."

Pablo set his glass down. "She did what?"

"She called out my name." Jareth repeated, fumbling with the empty snifter. "She called out my name, asked forgiveness and shed a tear." His jaw took on a hard edge.

Pablo looked perplexed. "You say she did this in her sleep?"

"After I'd given her as much pleasure as a novice could bear." Jareth mused shutting his eyes and remembering the feel of Sarah, the taste of her, and the taking of her. "She was delectable, mouth-watering and so damned satisfying." He smiled wickedly. "Afterward, she was spent and I was going to allow her a rest, before taking her yet again. She was exhausted, and fell into sleep quickly. As she did…" He frowned. "She said my name… my name!" He glowered, "The little witch said my name and asked forgiveness."

Pablo was glad the ire and temper were not directed at him. "And is the Goblin King in a forgiving mood?"

Jareth slammed the snifter into the fireplace; it shattered into millions of pieces. "He is not." The room went deathly quiet.

Pablo rose from the sofa, "I'm glad to hear that." He stated in a steady voice. "It would not due for word to get back to the Fae realms that you were rendered helpless by a woman-child's tears and the plea for forgiveness."

Jareth crossed his arms over his chest and let the anger wash over him. "I know." He assured his companion. "It is not enough to have taken the innocents of the girl; I will not rest until I've exacted the full measure of my punishment on that mortal female. She will bow to my will, and she will proclaim that I have power over her."

The artist watched his master. "Sophie has informed me that her mother will not return until some time Sunday. You have all of tomorrow to torment and punish the Williams girl. Do you have a battle plan, my King?'

Jareth tapped his chin with long fingers, fingers that looked as if they had been sculpted; they were far too beautiful to be real. "I told the girl that tonight belonged to her, for her to learn the pleasures that are to be had…. And that all her tomorrows belong to me." He smiled wickedly as a thought began to form. "I wonder how she'd react to slave training…being shackled and disciplined." He looked at the artist. "You restrain Sophie, do you not?"

"Sophie enjoys being manhandled." The artist bragged. "She is unique."

"Nonsense," Jareth scoffed. "Pablo, be so good as to find a nice collar and wrist set for me. Some thing fur lined." Jareth sat down regally in the winged back chair. "Quickly, I wish to begin the training of my new slave."

"She's not going to like that." Pablo said as he moved to the exit.

"Good," was Jareth's comment.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Jareth entered the bedroom with the restraints in hand. He looked at the girl sleeping in his bed. In the deepened state she was helpless against any assault he could come up with. Jareth slipped the collar around her slender neck, and buckled it. He looked down at the girl, his slave, and took pleasure in her subjugation. He raised one wrist, and fastened the cuff on, then the other. He moved to her ankles and fastened shackles that matched the wrist restraints. He stood back, looked at the woman-child lying in his bed. The sight of her restrained and in his bed pleased him. He sat on the bed and began to stroke the sleeping Sarah. He could awaken her, but he was finding this more agreeable for the time being. Soon enough she would be awake, and fighting his authority.

Thoughts of her fighting his authority brought a smile to his face. He donned the leather mask he'd discarded on the side of the bed when she'd used his name. Still he did not end the sleep spell; he instead sat beside her, stroking her face and her shoulders. He was in no rush to awaken her, and spoil the moment with her screams and protests. Stretching out beside her, he pulled her body close to his. He lightened the spell so she would awaken naturally at a time when her body had rested. He closed his eyes and took comfort in the sleep that came to claim him.

Sarah stirred, feeling an ache and tenderness where she'd never felt them. Her eyes opened sluggishly at first, blinking in the soft light of dawn. The surroundings were unfamiliar, and she felt groggy as she tried to remember where she was. She saw a corner of the painting's frame and gasped. "Oh no!" she sat up quickly and looked about herself, "Oh God no!" she felt the panic and the pounding of her heart. "Oh God no, I didn't..." she covered her face with her splayed fingers. "Oh God what did I do?" It was then she became aware that she was not alone in the bed, that there was a body, a very naked body lying beside her. She slowly turned her body to look. The masked man was unaffected by her display of panic, and guilt. "Oh no," she whispered and covered her face once more.

"Interesting reaction," He mused. "Guilt, panic, and shame…." He leaned up on one elbow while touching her with his free hand. "On the whole a waste of emotions and energy."

"What did you do to me?" she gasped.

"You know what I did." He said in a silky voice. "We made an exchange, you gave me your innocents and I gave you a night of passion. It was an excellent bargain."

"I never made a bargain with you… I wouldn't do something like that." She protested.

"Green eyes," He said in a voice that warned his tolerant attitude had it limits. "You made an unspoken bargain when you returned to this house. If you had not wanted what I had to offer, you would never have returned here."

Sarah shuddered. "That's not true… I only came with Sophie…for the party…. And I…"

The Master scoffed. "Do you enjoy telling yourself these untruths? Open your eyes to your soul… your very dark and deeply sexual soul, Green eyes." He sat up, barely covered by the coverlet. "You wanted what I offered the sooner you admit the truth to yourself the better."

Letting her hands drop to her lap she thought about what he was saying, then noticed that her wrist had been cuffed. "What the hell is this?"

He plumped the pillows behind him and sat with his back against the headboard. "Slave restraints." He stated blandly. "Your training begins with restraints."

"My what?" She gasped in a loud squeaky voice.

"That's rather cute," He commented with a smile under the black mask. "Those little squeaks that happens when you're in shock."

Sarah thrust one hand at him. "Take this thing off me!" She ordered.

The smile on the Master's face faded as quickly as it had appeared. Instead of removing the cuff, he reached up and grabbed the ring that was on the front of her collar and yanked her closer, throwing her off balance. "Let us be clear on a few facts. First and foremost, I give the orders here. I am the Master. You are the submissive, the slave, is that clear?"

"Yes." She gasped.

"Good." He let go of the ring. "You will be required to wear your restraints whenever you are in my company. I took a great deal of care to make sure the restraints used were ones that would protect that lovely hide of yours, don't make me regret being lenient with you." His voice was rigid. "Obedience will be rewarded, just as disobedience will be punished. Understand?"

Sarah nodded slowly. "Yes."

"I didn't hear you, slave." He snapped.

"Yes…" She said louder, not looking at him any longer.

"Yes…what?" He knew she was fighting what was happening in the only way she could, refusing to call him master.

"Yes, sir." She said.

"So defiant." The master said almost sadly. "Green eyes, you will address me as Master, now say it."

Her eyes met his, and she gave him a look that spoke volumes. "No." She said firmly. "No, I won't. No man is my master."

'Sarah, you've no idea of how right you are. No mortal man is your master, but I my darling girl am no mortal man.' Jareth thought to himself amused by her. He cocked his head to one side. "Are you defying me?"

Sarah glared at him, "I don't think I really want to play this game of yours." Her hands tried to unbuckle one of the wrist restraints. "I think what I'd like to do is leave here and never come back." Not being able to unbuckle the restraint was frustrating her.

The master let an exasperated huff pass his lips as he rolled out of the bed. "I see a demonstration of disciple is in order." He grabbed Sarah's wrist and pulled her out of the bed. "A slave is not allowed to be disrespectful to her master." He pulled her to a door and opened it. "Within this room you will be disciplined."

Sarah's eyes opened at the contents of the little room attached to the bedchamber. It was like a medieval torture chamber. "You've got to be kidding!" She tried to pull free to no avail.

The master attached the rings on the cuffs to a hook and then moved to a wheel with a chain attached to it. He turned the handle with ease and soon Sarah was standing on tippy toes. "No, Green eyes, I'm not kidding." He looked at her hanging from the hook. "The more defiant you are the harsher the punishment." He warned. "And Green eyes I should warn you…I'm not a patient man."

Sarah moaned, "Oh stop, this hurts."

"This," His he pointed to the hook from which she was suspended. "This is nothing." He promised. "I would prefer to train you to see to my needs and desires without having to resort to punishing you, however you must know that I don't make idle threats."

"Let me go!" she demanded and kicked her feet out at him.

Walking calmly to a table he picked up a ring clip, and clipped the ankle shekels together as she shrieked at him. "Kicking your master is a big no-no." He said calmly as he held her legs while he knelt beside her. He stood up, "Your bad behavior demands that you be disciplined. Now to find the right discipline to use." He began to pace.

"Let me go, you beast!" She screamed.

"Since this is your first infraction, and you are new to training I will be compassionate and benevolent. Other masters would not do so, but I admit I find your fire appealing." He placed a firm hand on her rounded derrière. He moved so his face was within inches of hers. "I'm going to do what your father should have done…I'm going to paddle your ass."

"You're out of your mind." She squirmed like a fish on a hook. "My father would never do anything so barbaric!"

The master moved to stand behind Sarah, his hand moving over the curve of her bottom in an erotic and compelling manner. "It is a father's duty to teach discipline to daughters, so they don't get too headstrong." The Master said as he pulled his hand back and slapped her rump with a loud crack. She yelped. "Discipline is one of the ultimate signs of love, Green eyes." Again his hand came down on her bare bottom. "This time I use my hand, the next time you are so willful it will be a whip or a riding crop." He gave her one more slap for good measure.

Tears streamed down her face, more from embarrassment then pain. For in truth the spanking was not nearly as hard as she knew could have been administered. She sobbed loudly after the last strike.

"Now." He said firmly. "How do you address me?"

Sarah struggled with the restraints and looked at him, though her tears. "Master." She said at last.

"Good." He nodded. "Say it again."

"Master." She repeated the word.

He moved his lips to her ears. "I find I like hearing you say that word, slave. Say it again." He commanded as his hands began to travel over her.

"Master." She moaned softly.

The man in the mask walked to the wheel and lowered her to the ground. He then unhooked her wrists from the chain. He made no move to unclip her ankles. "Again."

Sarah looked up from her cuffed wrists. "Master." There was a slight sound of resentment, and she lowered her eyes swiftly.

A hand went to her bottom; there was no slap, just the presences of the hand to make a point. "I now own you," When she turned her face up to protest, he silenced her with little effort. "Yes, Green eyes I do. You are now my slave, not quite willing yet, but my slave nonetheless. My personal salve and my property." He sounded arrogant and full of pride. "You shall be used by me alone, little Green eyes. Seeing to all my desires of the flesh." Sarah would have looked away, but his hand moved to under her chin keeping her facing him. "A duty you will carry out without objection." His eyes hidden behind the mask danced with wicked delights. "Sit on the floor." He commanded, expecting to be obeyed.

Sarah sunk to her knees then sat carefully on her rump. She winced when she sat. The man knelt beside her and unclipped her ankles. She looked at him, warily.

"I will expect you to be respectful." He tossed the clip back to the table. "The quicker you obey, the easier the training will go. You may even find the training pleasant, Green eyes." He stood up, snapped his fingers and said. "Follow me." He returned to the bedchamber.

Sarah rose to her feet and followed, not wanting to be in the discipline chamber any longer than she had to be. "Yes, Master."

Jareth smiled, knowing she could not see the smile painted on his face. "When you are here you will wear a face mask, but not the white one any longer."

"Pablo said the blue ones mean…" she stammered.

"You will not be in a blue mask either. I have no intentions on sharing your treasures with anyone else. Your body belongs to me, and only to me." He opened a draw next to the bed and pulled out a green leather mask. "This is what I want you to wear when you are with me, my slave." He handed the mask to the girl. "Put it on."

Sarah removed the white mask that had covered her face since arriving. She adjusted the green mask so she could see. "What does the color mean?"

"Property of the Master," he said taking the white mask from her hand. "She who services the needs of the Master…oh any number of meanings." He looked at her and growled. "I hunger, green eyes, and only you will satisfy my hunger." He took hold of her, shoved her back on the bed and crawled over her. "We've only a short time in which to train you, so let us not waste a moment of our time together." Using his knees he spread her legs open to him. "Let us commence with the pleasure of your training, my beautiful green eyed woman-child." He buried his face in her neck. "My tempting teenaged vixen."

Hours later when he had completely exhausted himself, he lay with his leg over her trembling body. "Green eyes," he sighed.

"Yes, Master." She answered weakly.

"Who is this Jareth, and why do you beg his forgiveness?" He asked in a tired voice.

Sarah stared at the ceiling, eyes wide open and mouth parted, no words could be heard.