Chapter 28. Training to please the King

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

Author's note:

Yep it's a smut alert.

You've received it, now it's your problem.

Read at your own risk…

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

Jareth looked with interest as Joachim handed him the leather and metal harness that was to be used in the training of the Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan. He held it up inspecting the workmanship. "This is a thing of beauty Joachim!" His words praised the Goblin who gave the King a happy smile. "I thank you for your prompt compliance with my request."

"For my King, anything…" The metal master noted. "The other one will take a bit of fitting to your slave… You don't want chaffing or marring. I should like to take the first measurements as soon as possible."

"Why not now," Jareth produced a crystal from the air, and sent it to the tower.

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

The crystal floated in through the window as Sarah finished her meal. It headed for Della, and the Harpy frowned as it burst and the King's voice commanded. "Bring the Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan to me in the Goblin Throne room."

Della, who watched Daisy and the mortal eat with disgust, snapped her fingers. "Ok girly girl, move your shapely ass over here."

Sarah wished they had trusted her with cutlery; she'd have liked to have taken a knife to the Harpy time and again. "Don't order me about you over grown canary." She snapped. "That fop can wait until I'm done with my meal."

The Harpy glowered at the young woman taking her time with her mean. "What did you call me?"

"A over grown canary…but I take it back, canaries are pretty…and you're the uglest thing I've seen in the Labyrinth…and you smell almost as bad as the bog." Sarah said calmly as she nibbled small bites of toast. "You're nothing more than a vulture."

"Did you hear her?" The Harpy asked the Goblin Guard who shrugged. "The nerve of it," Della cawed heartily. "What do you think we should do about such disrespect?"

Daisy leaned back and placed an arm over her chair's back. "It's not my problem as I see it, Birdie…I believe she was addressing your appearance and hygiene...Not mine."

The Harpy swaggered over to the table and ripped the toast out of Sarah's hands. Hauled her out of her seat causing her pain as she touched the girl; "Ups a daisy," her harsh voice gloated as she forced the girl toward the window. "Now don't make me drop you…the King wants you in one piece." Sarah struggled as she was hauled out of the window and carried down to the window of the Throne room reserved for Goblin Kingdom and Goblin business alone. Della laughed callously as she deposited the girl with a thud on the stone floor before the Leather clad King who was seated on the throne looking Godlike. "Your parcel, Sire," the Harpy chortled.

Sarah looked up at the King and saw the Metal master standing beside him. She crouched on the floor, ready to spring like a cobra.

Jareth was amused by Sarah's bravado. "Thank you for coming so quickly… Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan," he addressed her by title. "I would have all address this… creature by her title."

"I prefer my name," Sarah retorted her head coming up defiantly.

"You have no name, but the one I give you." He informed her with a sneer. "For now Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan is all the name you'll need." He stood up, knowing his new garments were far more impressive than the regalia he once wore. He moved gracefully down the steps of his Goblin Throne, his cape fluttering slightly behind him. With ease he reached down, gripped her one arm and pulled her to her feet to face him, slightly bowed toward her and hissed.

Sarah had not meant to react, but by instinct she felt her lips curl back, her teeth grate and a low growly hiss escaped her throat. Her breath suddenly came in low shallow huffs. "Release me, you bastard."

"Never," he said as his lips connected with her ear. The young woman shivered under his touch. "Today you begin the training of the Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan," he pulled her to face the metal master who held out an evil looking harness toward her. Backing away, she found herself blocked by the King, her head fell back and she roared. In her ears rang the haunting laughter of a Goblin King as his hand pulled the latest sheet she'd draped about herself, off her body.

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

Devon was surprised to find Bryn already sitting at the breakfast table waiting for him. "My dear, you're up early." He commented as he signaled his servants to bring in the meal. "Did you not sleep well?"

"I'm not usually a late sleeper," she explained softly. "I was wondering if I could make a request," she said as the servant placed her meal before her.

"That depends on the request," he teased softly. "What is it you wish for?"

"I'd like permission to do some gardening," she kept her voice quiet.

"No Bryn," he said calmly. "I'll not have you messing about trying to concoct potions to depose myself and the king." He sipped his juice.

"I wouldn't…" She protested before he raised his hand to silence her.

"Of course you would, I would in your place!" He stated. "I think I've been more than tolerant not punishing you for the plans you've been making while reading in my own library."

Placing her hands in her lap and leaning back against her chair, the girl with mossy green eyes looked at the Fae Lord and sighed. "How long have you known?"

"From the start," he said taking a fork full of eggs and eating them slowly; "More than a fortnight."

"You bastard," she whispered icily. "You sneaky conniving, low down, rotten bastard."

"Yes, my dear," he nodded. "Now be good and eat before the food gets cold."

"You were just going to sit there and let me go on thinking I could… if I had not asked to muck about in the garden you were going to let me go on reading and …" she stammered angrily.

"Darling girl," he smiled softly, hoping it would distract her from continuing this triad. He'd a fair idea of where it would lead, and it was not a path he'd choose to take, not now. "I was hoping you'd find something in all that information that would help you see how futile your struggle…" he paused, and sighed. "Miss Cystennin," he addressed her very formally. "Have I at anytime during your stay thus far treated you with anything less than respect?" He found himself looking at her and feeling insulted, and decided to let her know how he felt. While he was polite his expression of having been insulted was not hidden.

His words and manners, and the hurt in his eyes took her aback. "No, you've been a perfect gentleman." She admitted softly. "You've treated me with respect… I suppose by most standards you've been… generous."

"All I ask is that you show me the same…respect," he looked down at his breakfast. "I've received a court invitation to the High King's residence for the Solstice celebration, and I had hoped to extend an invitation to you to join me as my… companion."

Bryn bit back the words that would have rushed out, and looked at the man. He was not faking the pained expression, but Bryn could tell the man was milking it for all it was worth. "I am sorry if my actions have caused you pain, Baron." She placed her hand to her aching head, "I wish things were not so… difficult for us…. You're really not a bad sort." The tension and the exasperation of the situation had given Bryn one of her head aches.

"Things," he retorted icily; "Are difficult because you insist upon making them so."

Exasperated with the infuriating Fae, Bryn challenged him in just as icy a tone. "Baron, put yourself in my shoes for a moment…"

Devon had not expected her to be rational, and frowned. She was not playing into his hands as he'd planned. "I beg your pardon." He blinked, had she really just challenged him?

"I don't think you understand the implications of what you and your King did." She challenged coldly. "I think you just saw a pretty face and a curvy body and said, 'oh my, she'll be delighted to play dirty sex games rather than be in prison.' Well guess what pal, you bet on the wrong gal… Lilith was the one of us who was a sex kitten… Not Sarah and most certainly not me… Am I actively looking for an out, you bet I am… Look, just because I can't leave without the help of some benevolent goddess... don't mean I need to stay with YOU."

Devon was relieved there was no food in his mouth, for he'd be choking on it if there were. His jaw dropped, leaving him looking very foolish as he sat staring at the young woman who was rising from her seat with more grace under fire than any of the Fae women he'd known. Her Welsh heritage shone on her now as brightly as the beacon of a light house. Standing, glaring at him, she looked every inch a Celtic Warrior.

"As to your suggestion of an offer to accompany you to the High Court…" She looked at him as if he were lower than snake piss; "You can take your offer and shove it, sailor…" She turned on her heal and exited the breakfast room, her long reddish gold curls bouncing down her back as she stormed from the room.

He sat at the table for a few moments before it registered that not only had he been turned down, but she was well and truly insulted by his behavior. "I'll be damned." He said under his breath in an amazed voice. "The girl… likes me..." He looked the direction she'd gone, and knew she'd most likely go to the garden to clear her head. Standing up he tossed his napkin on the half eaten meal.

Bryn was sitting under the spreading branches of a tree that was just losing its leaves. She looked up to see him exiting the house, and heading toward her. She braced herself for his inevitable argument. "I have no intentions of arguing with you any further today." She said pointedly as he drew near.

His hands extended, gripping her by the forearms dragging her off the garden bench she was seated upon. "Good," he murmured as he planted his lips to hers. For a moment he feared she was going to go limp. Instead she suddenly gripped his lapels and retuned his kiss. Moments later when he broke the kiss to breathe he looked at her and moaned softly. "I've wanted to do that since the moment I laid eyes upon you..."

"No," she warned coldly. "No games Baron…"

Devon tipped her face up to his. "Not this time, little witch, this time I'm playing it straight." Again he lowered his lips to hers this time her arms reached up about his neck. Gently he lifted her off the floor and held her suspended in the air. When the long lingering kiss broke he hugged her close. "My God and Goddess, I feel like you're making a new man of me." He breathed in her ear.

Pulling back the girl looked at him questioningly. "Baron if you're expecting me to jump through hoops and do summersaults into a bed simply because your treatment of me has been humane…"

"I've been an idiot, little one, forgive me…" he pleaded taking her hands and pressing them to his heart. "I've had little experience with mortals from the mortal planes… and Cariad; I am a bit use to being fawned over because of my station." He now smiled at her broadly. "For more than a fortnight now I've had the pleasure of your company… and I don't think I really gave your…situation much thought." He tucked one of her hands into the crook of his arm and lead her toward the orchard where most of the trees were still being harvested. "I will not underestimate you again." He promised.

"Of course you will," she sighed as her steps fell in with his. "Men, Fae and mortal alike underestimate and take for granted the women in their lives…"

"I am several centuries older than you, my Cariad, and I don't think I'm nearly as cynical." He teased laughing quietly. "But let us start again… you've been a wonderful dinner companion… full of wit and marvelously scintillating conversation…But I don't think either of us has really made an effort to know the other."

"Well getting to know you would have taken away from my plot to escape." She quipped in a sweet voice while batting long lashes at him.

"Damn but you're a witty girl." He chuckled. "Seriously… The High King throws the most wonderful celebration you've ever imagined. Food, wine, music and merriment…even a Fairy Ring Dance, which is a sight you'll never forget. So Bryn Cystennin, would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you to the Celebration on Avalon?"

"Yes," she said softly walking at his side. "I'd be very pleased to go as your companion." Looking about the orchard, she had to admit the gardens and orchard were a wonderful place to be even in the last days of autumn. Bryn secretly wondered what the Palace of Avalon would look like.

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

Sarah had struggled against both men who had wrestled her into the harness. Jareth knew very well she would, and he took pleasure in the pain on her face when Joachim's hands had touched her and when the harness had been strapped on. She had screamed in pain and indignation, righteous anger bubbling forth like a geyser. He could have easily used magic to put the harness on her, but that would have deprived him of seeing her humiliated once more. Now he was fastening leather and metal cuffs to her wrists to match the ones Joachim was fastening to her ankles.

"A perfect fit," Della observed from a safe distance. "How very fitting," she laughed callously at Sarah's discomfort.

Sarah turned her wounded gaze up at the King. "You snake, I swear if it's the last thing I do, I'll make you pay for this."

Wicked delight burned like fire in the stormy mismatched eyes of the King. "I look forward to seeing you try." Stepping back he viewed her. "Charming," he commented abrasively.

Sarah would have preferred to cover her now bare breasts; the harness left nothing to the imagination. However she knew that he expected her to be modest, so she pulled every last vestige of dignity forth and stood with her head held proudly, and her hands at her sides. She may be a captive, but it was going to be a cold day in Hell before she'd allow him to have the upper hand. "This means nothing," she said frostily. "You have my body… but you'll never have my soul."

Shrugging the Goblin King returned to his throne. "For now, your body will more than do; keep your soul…"

Della jeered, "I'd wipe that sneer off her face if I were you, my King."

Jareth didn't look at the Harpy. "I don't recall asking your advice."

The winged creature shrugged; "Just a suggestion."

Lounging in the deep and wide seat of the throne, against the ivory tusk that made up the back and arms, the Goblin King looked at his Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan. The haughty look had given way to one of lustful desires. He snapped his gloved fingers, and ordered sharply. "Leave." The metal master having taken the measurements he needed bowed and departed without a backward glance. The Harpy on the other hand made a slight protest, offering to back the King up, give him aid in any other way. "I don't need your help, thank you." He said knowingly in a sinister way. "Leave us." When still she hesitated, Jareth barked loudly. "Be gone!"

Sarah had been standing glued to one spot, staring off into space, willing herself out of this place. She watched with little interest as the Harpy took wing and fled out the window she'd entered by. Sarah knew they were alone and that no one else would enter unless Jareth would allow them to. She looked at him with a sideways glance, as he sat in the throne. He was dressed far differently than he had been the first time she'd seen him or for that matter the way he'd been dressed the night she and the two other witches had captured him. Today he was wearing black leather, a form fitting garment that resembled a dancer's cat suit. It was slashed down to below his navel in front and showed more of his chest than Sarah had ever hoped to see. He was toned, not a once of fat, all muscle and every inch of it was kept fit. The black leather against the rich deep purple and gold draping and his smooth alabaster skin gave a striking appearance, and she found her self mesmerized.

"Come here," he invited softly. Even as the words left his lips, they sounded more like an order.

The order registered, and she contemplated ignoring it. Turning slightly she looked directly at him, leaning back with one boot hooked over the side rail. Following the long lean line of his leg it was hard not to catch a glimpse of the bulge that was throbbing in the lower portion of the cat suit. Sarah wanted to look away but found she was enthralled by the sight of him being so sexually commanding. Staring at the bulge she would swear that it was breathing, well on the way to becoming a full erection and she wondered if it would remain contained in its leather prison much longer. There was no denying that in the four years since that fateful night that she'd refused him, he had become perhaps princelier. No longer did he look like a refugee from a glam rock band. Now he was focused, more mature, and more dangerous… and god help her he was by far and a way sexier than ever he had been that first time she'd seen him. But there was one more thing he'd become, and that was far crueler than he'd been. Now he was more calculating than he'd been and manipulatively conniving, and he now was responsible for not only stealing her dreams but wounding her pride as well as her body. "Why should I?" she challenged.

"Come here," he repeated, this time the invitation was less inviting and his eyes narrowed.

Even as his lips formed the words they reminded Sarah of another time. In a room of crystal she'd sought him, and he'd looked at her much the way he was looking at her now. That time it had been to distract her, this time it was to compel her. "Make me," she dared him as she steeled her heart against him.

Lazily he tilted his head to one side and let his eyes rake over her. Naked with the exception of the harness and her slave rings, and yet even in this moment she was queenlier than any other woman he'd ever known. Her body was no longer that of a child, she had matured. Her breasts had grown full and heavy in the four years that they had been separated. Her hips were shapely before even hidden under the jeans she'd been wearing upon that first meeting. Now they were rounded and gave her a feminine womanly gait as she walked. Her legs were beautifully sculptured and he longed for them to be wrapped about his waist while he took his pleasure from her. His eye lids lowered becoming mere slits, and he held out his hand. "I will force you if you prefer." He warned.

Sarah knew it was no idle threat, he would find a way to force her. She held her head high, and moved forward. "Yes, I'm sure you would." Forward to the King she may have to go, but it would be very slow steps.

He watched he move, "I swear by the God and all Demons, you are more desirable now than I had thought possible." His hand was still extended out to her.

"I wish I could say the same for you," she replied, halting at the base of the steps. She looked at the extended hand, and locked her hands together behind her back. Refusing to take a step closer or to even touch the hand extended out to her.

Gradually he lowered his hand, as his lips formed a thin hard line. "Let us be clear about a few things here, girl." His voice had taken on an edge. "I am King, you are my slave…"

"I am not a slave…" She spat back like a hissing cat.

Such insolence should have angered him, instead it pleased it. "I beg to differ," he motioned toward the harness. "You begin your training today as my personal slave… for now you will remain in your tower when you are not needed. However if you behave and please your King you will be given privileges. If you disobey or in any way displease me, there will be punishments." He smiled lazily, "I'm sure, knowing your hard headedness, there will be lots of punishments." The girl looked away unwilling to meet his eyes. "For now you will be address as and will answer to your title, Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan."

"That is not my name," she protested.

"You have no name," he responded unsympathetically. "You have only what the King gives you… and for now Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan suits my purpose. You will come to me when I call for you, and you will obey my every command."

"It will be a cold day in hell…"

"Hell is frozen over, bitch." He lowered his hooked leg too the floor, leaning forward. His eyes were now beyond stormy, they were raging. "Come here," he glowered darkly.

Inching forward, Sarah closed the space between her and the man on the throne. "Yes, Sire." Her tone was disrespectful, and her lips curled.

"Kneel," he commanded in a whisper as he pointed to the spaced directly between his spread feet.

Sarah gauged the space between her and the door, and wondered how quickly he could leave the throne. Her eyes darted about the circular space, looking for something she could use to defend herself. Finding nothing of use, she looked again toward the entryway, and then back at the still waiting King who now wore a look that told her he knew exactly what she'd been thinking. There would be no escape, Sarah realized. She moved to the spot he was still indicating and knelt down keeping her hands locked behind her back. The intense fragrance of his personal scent flooded her senses, as she fought to keep focused. Defiantly she raised her head, and let her eyes meet his.

"I always knew you were a smart girl," he commented, as one hand moved to cup her chin. "Such fire in those cruel eyes," he purred. "Little wonder I am a moth to your flames."

Sarah wanted to die when the involuntary shiver shot through her. Nevertheless she kept her features schooled, not willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her crumble.

He let his thumb move over her cheek, the soft kidd leather gliding over her beautiful dewy skin. "You are a thing of beauty," he murmured ominously. He watched as her color rising to her cheeks as he continued to gently stroke. He saw the flicker of movement in her lashes, and knew that his touch, while totally uninvited, was satisfying a need no other in either her realm or his could. It had been his plan to shame her once more, to cause her humiliation. He focused his vision on her mouth, the full, sensuous, sumptuous lips that even now were just slightly parted. "I want your mouth." He purred in a sinister way as he inched forward in the seat of the throne. His scent was growing stronger, and the bulge was now straining the leather. The bulbous head of the growing erection began to peep out of the narrow opening of the cat suit, demanding freedom. Slipping his free hand down, he eased the rest of his manhood free. The throbbing monster shot forward, red, throbbing and still engorging and rising up toward the girl's face. As Sarah watched the member breathed into its full length and pressed into its metal binding. The realization of his request snapped Sarah out of the euphoria his touch created. Her eyes widened, had he not snaked his hand into her hair, she'd have bolted away. "Open your mouth." He commanded.

Sarah furiously pulled her head free of his grip, and yelped as the strands were yanked back. "No, I won't do that…it's disgusting!" With herculean effort she broke free of his grasp, and turned to roll away. Her ankle was caught in the vice grip of one hand, the same hand that had moments ago stroked her cheek tenderly. Yanking her back before she could react he slipped a metal clip through the ring on the ankle and swiftly he reached down to the other and clipped it as well, now her ankles were bound together. She looked back over her shoulder as the clip slipped through the second ring and snarled viciously. Forgetting who she was dealing with for a moment, a moment that cost her more than she cared to give, she extended her right hand like a claw aiming at his face. However as her legs were now of no use they acted like an anchor and she was easily shoved off balance. He took hold of both hands, pulling them behind her and placed a clip to the bindings. A third clip with links of chain attached the hands to the ankles and she was left on her side on the floor, howling like a banshee.

Jareth stood over her for a moment, breathing in deep heavy breaths. His engorged member was even fuller now and completely free of the leather cat suit. It looked like a caged monster as he stood over the bound girl. His lips were curling back, and his eyes were like lava on the sea. "I've been generous with you up to now, Tagaan;" his words came in between the heaving breaths. Reaching down, he yanked her up by the hair to her knees once more. Now with her wrist bound to the ankles she was unable to escape. She could only kneel to his majesty; "However, there are limits to that generosity," he warned threateningly. "This is the last time I will tolerate your resistance, Tagaan;" he now positioned himself, straddling the ground to either side of her knees. His left hand was knotted in her hair at the base of her neck; his right hand had shot out into the air. There was a cracking reverberation just before a flogger appeared out of nowhere in his hand. He gripped it with a firm grasp as he steadied his stance. "Now, open that lovely mouth," he ordered harshly.

Sarah's eyes bulged now that she was face to face with his loins. Now that it was in such close proximity, she could see the raised ridge of silver that was studded with miniature rough edged nubs as it wrapped around his engorged shaft. Strangely, unlike most men, Jareth it seemed had no body hair, no downy fuzz to soften the lines formed by his bones and muscles underneath his skin. He was smooth and sculpted, and had his muscles not rippled she'd have thought he were an alabaster stature. Staring straight ahead, her breath became shallow.

"Open you mouth," he repeated. When Sarah was unable to comply because she was hypnotized by the serpent in front of her rising like a cobra from a basket, he reached around her and gave her exposedrear a swat with his flogger by simply flicking his wrist. It was not enough to do harm, only to gain her attention. She would have pulled back her head in shock if Jareth weren't holding her hair. Instead, she merely yelped. Jareth took advantage of the opportunity and thrust his hips into her face forcing the head of the demanding monster into her exposed orifice.

Sarah had never been so closely acquainted with the male organ. She knew what one looked like, one could not work in a strip club without seeing them being waved about and given invitation to know them better. Yet this was the closest she'd ever come personally to one. The mass filled her mouth like nothing ever had. It forced its way over her teeth, the raised nubs clicking against them and roughly rubbing the inside of her cheeks abrasively with its raw edges. The tip touched the back of her mouth and she instinctually forced her mouth wider in a gagging response. She felt Jareth gently pulling her hair in an effort to create some distance from him. Fear of choking she let him guide the movement.

Now, each of his hands cupped her ears, his fingers entwined within the strands of her hair. The flogger dangled from his wrist on a strap, ready to use if he felt she was not complying with his wishes. His palms were pressed firmly on the sides of her head, guiding her motions. Sarah had to curve her tongue around the form of his muscle least it was rubbed raw by the ornament on his appendage. She could feel the cords of the flogger brush against her and instinctively she began to protest, her teeth coming down in contact with the coil surrounding the organ that had been shoved into her mouth. "Bite me and I'll dip you head first in the bog," he warned malevolently. She moaned and gagged again, he softened his voice, "Relax, breath though your nose," he coaxed her quietly, his voice becoming almost melodic. "That's it. Relax. It'll come like second nature to you." Jareth closed his eyes, reveling in the wet warmth that surrounded his most erogenous spot. The suit was still over his shoulders, applying pressure beneath his scrotum in a most arousing manner. "Long deep breaths, my dear, slow and easy… through your nose, and don't rush it." He guided her head in a rhythmic motion, remaining stationary, until he felt the urge to pick up the pace. Slowly, he started to pump into her orifice. Not driving, just a gently roll of his hips to alleviate his own urge. He wanted to enjoy this delightful luxury, not be done quickly. He did not need her climax for his own; he could prolong this for as long as he wished. He had waited four years to mollify and assuage the urges deep within him that she'd triggered. His own wounds at her hand were not yet healed, and he still wore a silk scarf tied about his throat. It seemed only right he should cause some discomfort to her throat he mused. Moreover he was in no rush to finish the retribution and penalty her sentence had afforded her.

The humiliation continued for what seemed like forever. She had the metallic taste of silver on her tongue, the insides of her cheeks felt like she'd been chewing on them, her muscles hurt from being forced to keep her mouth open, as he now fucked her face. But, the most difficult part was his musky, masculine scent that filled her nostrils with every deep intake of breath. It wasn't a body odor, no—this was more like a mating indicator, something that his body emitted to let women in the area that know that he was available and to get ready for him, 'get ready' is exactly what it did to the novice whose mouth he was using. It began with the tingling in her nipples, and the rings moving up and down. She tried to ignore it, put it out of her mind, just as she was desperately trying to ignore the spicy scent he was releasing. To her utter shame, she felt a tightening in her lower abdomen as warmth crept into her nether regions. Her thighs tightened involuntarily, trying to create a pressure to relieve her of the ache that was forming at their nexus. She tried to squirm, anything to create some sort of friction to help. When the sweet torture was too much to bear; Sarah whimpered—a high-pitched simpering sound that was formed somewhere within her throat back behind the probing invader.

Jareth opened his eyes with that sound. He found Sarah, writhing and wiggling her attractive derrière in a most fetching fashion. He had so focused on the sensations within his own body; he had become unaware of how her pheromones were working synergistically within his. Her eyes had fluttered closed, her flushed cheeks looked as if she were glowing. Her hardened nipples and raised breasts were causing the rings to stand away from the heavy laden mammary. Her long neck was angled to give him entry. The sight of the aroused woman kneeling in front of him was exciting, too exciting for him to contain himself. In spite of himself, his hips pumped harder as his thrusts became more pronounced. The grip on her hair tightened painfully as his senses overloaded on his release. He hissed and began to moan in anticipation of fulfillment.

Sarah was brought back from her sexual tensions by Jareth's forceful administrations. The pace he was setting was brutal; each thrust slammed the head of his shaft against the roof of her mouth, making her want to retch, heave, and gag. Suddenly she thought she did as she felt a viscous, salty substance warm her mouth. Coughing, she was able to throw her head back once Jareth released it from his vice. The sticky gelatinous ooze spilled over her lips as she shuddered and tired to breathe.

Jareth was spent; panting, covered with a fine sheen of sweat. He moved a step back, found his heal against the dais step and moved up without looking, knowing by instinct where he was standing. His hands reached for the side rails of his massive throne, he slouched into the throne lounging back as he had before the assault upon her mouth. Looking at Sarah, bound and kneeling in front of him, her hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, pupils dilated with only a hint of tears being held back, and his fluids seeping out from between those luscious lips only served to arouse him again. His manhood was still throbbing and he had not even made an effort to force it back into hiding. His haughty smile had returned as he addressed her with mock application. "My dear, I do believe we've discovered your true vocation." He watched her wince; he mentally noted the humiliation and placed yet another mark on the virtual scoreboard he was keeping in his head. "Your King is pleased," he crooned leaning back as the monster rose, still stiff and ready to administer more punishment.

Sarah closed her eyes, the salty tears spilled over her cheeks even as she refused to allow the sob to escape her throat.

"Perhaps now would be a good time to take a break," he suggested as if they were on friendly terms. "Della!" he called out knowing the Harpy would be closed enough to hear his call.

Moments later the black wings guided the woman though the window of the throne room. "You called for me, oh great and wise Goblin King?" her tone was mocking but only slightly, and for a Harpy that was damn near respectful. Or at least as respectful as any of them knew how to be.

Jareth pointed toward the trembling girl who was trying to keep her balance in her bound state. "Take her back to the tower, have her cleaned up."

Saucily the Harpy sauntered to stand behind the disheveled Sarah, reaching down to unclip the one clip that held the bound ankles and wrist together she looked over at the King. Her eyes gazed with approval and admiration at the King's exposed hard on. "Now that's some plucker you've got there your Majesty, very nice indeed." She growled aggressively.

Jareth looked down with an amused grin, "I'm so glad you approve, Della. It has served me well, very well in fact. Wouldn't mind trying out some feathers sometime, though" He gave the Harpy a well practiced come hither grin. "Just when do you come into season, sweet bird?"

Not bothering to unfasten the rest of the clips, Della yanked the girl up off the floor. "On your feet," she ordered before turning to the King again. "You want her back or are you finished with her for the day?"

"I'm not sure," He said as he began to fondle his erection. "Now if you'd like to keep me amused…"

"Promises, promises," Della snorted lewdly as she picked up the still bound girl. "You know where to find us…" The wings spread, in the next instant the Harpy was air born with her bundle.

Jareth closed his eyes, but it was not the sassy Harpy he thought of. It was the sweet mouth that had just given him a pleasure that he'd desired for the longest time. "Oh Sarah," he sighed as his hand slid up and down his shaft. "Your humiliations are just beginning."

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

Della dumped Sarah on the bed, not bothering to unclip her. "I'm not a lady's made." She said harshly. "You'll have to wait until the Runt returns, she's more adept at taking care of those issues… the steamy air in your bathing area is bad for my wings." She walked over to the window. "Runt should be back with something for you both to eat….soon… and I need to hunt something for me."

Sarah lay on the bed, refusing to make any request of the Harpy. Her bound ankles and wrist could wait she decided. What could not was the ache that was throbbing and demanding satisfaction. It had been torture to know that Jareth had used her face, had emptied into her mouth, and had not cared if she had been allowed to find her own release. Closing her eyes, she could still smell his scent on her, and she began to slowly undulate and fashion a fantasy that would allow her to find some relief.

Hearing the girl softly moan, the Harpy turned from the window and watched as the human willed herself to climax. When she finished the Harpy wondered if she should have offered to unclip her hands and feet… but then it was more fun to force the girl to deal with the hand she'd been dealt. Della moved closer, seeing the girl's eyes were closed. She wondered if she was continuing the King's dramatic production from the throne room in her mind, for the girls face was glowing.

Daisy entered the window with a hamper full of food to the unmistakable odor of sexual play. "Good Goddess, it smells like a brothel in here," she said loudly, making the Harpy jump. "What the hell is going on?" She asked seeing the bound girl. "Why didn't you unclip her?"

"Saw no need to," Della said cheerily as she moved to the window. "I'm going hunting… have a nice lunch…."

Daisy placed the hamper down on the table, moved toward the girl and became aware of the harness. "He trains you," she said sounding a bit perturbed. "And still he has not read all the scrolls…" she unclipped the human and released her hands and feet. "Let's get you out of the hardware and into a bath." She ushered the girl to the bathing area muttering as she drew a tub of hot sudsy water for the girl. "Men are such fools, you tell them where to find the secrets of the universe and they still don't bother to look."

Sarah stood still as Daisy released her from the harness. "Thank you," she replied grudgingly.

Knowing a touch would be too much for the girl, Daisy said quietly in her ear. "You are welcome…Sarah."

"He said no one is to use my name," a worried look entered her eye. For reasons she could not fathom, she didn't want this Goblin Guard removed from taking care of her. "If he finds out…"

"Then let's not tell him," suggested Daisy motioning Sarah into the deep waters of the tub. "Besides, I doubt he'll be too interested in what I call you. He has other things to occupy his mind."

"Thank you Daisy." She repeated.

"Since the King has taken it upon himself to train you as a Tagaan or Rhuukarlaan, perhaps you should also be trained in the customs of the Goblin Court." Daisy said as she exited the bathing area. "I'm sure it would be a good thing for you to know whose who, and what's what…"

"Is this an active court?" Sarah asked suddenly interested, "Daisy do you think I might get a chance to see Bryn?"

Daisy wanted to spare the girl anymore pain. "I won't say it could not happen…. From what my cousin has said, the Baron seems to be quite taken with your friend. He dotes on her and has given her the freedom of his estate, and its grounds."

Sarah leaned back into the warm comfort of the suds and sighed. "Good, she deserved something good. Tell me Daisy…what is your opinion of this Lord Baron… this cousin of the King."

Daisy shrugged, "I don't have to think about him, he's not the King." She saw that Sarah was not appeased and modified her answer. "Personally, I think he's a decent sort…for a Fae."

Sarah began to giggle, than laugh until tears formed. Daisy left the girl to her bath and prepared the midday meal.

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

Author's note:

I would like to thank Yodeladyhoo for her input and help with the King getting head… I wanted this to be technically correct and her help was invaluable. Sometimes it takes the input of some of you my friends to help get what's in my mind on paper… or the screen… oh you know what I mean…. And thanks to Anne for her input and helping me to keep Bryn and Devon from becoming too mushy way too soon….