Her teeth chatter as the crushing pain in her body is replaced by a biting numbness. Her tears seem to freeze against her cheek as they pool on the ground below her. The metal has chaffed her wrists raw and her shoulders burned until she could no longer feel her arms or fingers. The trembling of her body worsens, shivering ceaselessly on the cold, hard ground. She is frozen, both emotionally and physically; unable to move. The only benefit of the cold air is that it tames the fires consuming her back, but it is eating the rest of her naks body alive. She is dying, of that much she is sure. Never in all her life did she ever think that she would be in a situation like this.

Fairies aren't supposed to intercede in human affairs, they are supposed to remain neutral and maintain order. But in some cases, they did intercede and grant the wishes of a select few. She interceded for Balefire after his father became the dark one, when it is too late. She remembers the time when Rumplestiltskin was nothing more than a gentle spinner; a dedicated father, and a good one at that. His love for Bae allowed him to withstand the years of endless torment and abuse. All the evil that could have been avoids if only she interceded sooner for him and Regina…

But as she lay shivering, her body bruised, bloodied, and broken; she realizes it doesn't matter who is at fault. The irreparable damage has already been done to countless innocent lives, herself the most recent victim.

"Still alive, dearie…?" she heard him ask, his voice distant and distorted. She hadn't heard him open the door; didn't even hear him descend the wooden staircase. She says nothing, blinking once to give him his answer. She struggles to focus as he stands over her, her vision blurs and she swallows fearfully, wondering what new torment he has in store.

"Do you know what I think?" she bites her tongue, turning away as he kneels behind her. She closes her eyes as he reverently traces his fingertips over her back, down her backside to her thighs, able to imagine the sick smile on his lips and the pleasure in his eyes admiring the work of his own hands. Though his touch is feather light it sends sharp shooting pains throughout her body.

"Don't touch me!" she spat venomously, though the words are little more than a tearful plea.

"I think you liked the power of choosing who you would help, and who you would destroy. You are the highest and mightiest of us all…" His eyes blaze, burning through her with frightening intensity as he grips her wrists, pinning her arms easily above her head. She cries out at the agonizing stiffness in her shoulders, recoiling from his touch as soft fingers run the length of her flesh from her neck, down the valley between her breasts to her abdomen.

"I think you are far closer to Regina and I than you realize."

She is determined to remain silent now. If she doesn't speak, she can't spark his rage. It doesn't matter what she says or does, he is intent on destroying her either way. Everything he asks is a trap, designed to justify him causing her pain. It is hopeless. Then his hand is suddenly gone from her back, the handcuffs around her wrists falling to the ground. She is even more surprised when he unlocks one of the shackles binding her ankles.

She whimpers in relief as her arms fall like lead to the floor, silently thanking him for unlocking her handcuffs. With her newfound mobility she instantly curls on her side, retreating inside herself, hugging her knees to her chest.

Shaking her head, she struggles to no avail against his strength as he rolls her onto her back, realizing then how truly broken her body is if he is too strong for her.

He stretches his body over her and when he presses his chest to hers she almost cris in relief, relishing the heat of his body against her freezing skin. She wants to push him away, to struggle and show her hatred of him. But her arms are dead weights above her and his body is blessedly warm. She hates herself more than ever for not fighting with everything she has left, but the soft touches of his fingertips are a welcome reprieve from the violence she's endured. His hands came to rest on her breasts, gripping and kneading the sensitive flesh roughly.

Her mind is waging a war that her body lacks the strength to fight, feeling heavy and lethargic. She inhales sharply as he sucks the hardened nipple into the warmth of his mouth, sucking gently instead of biting viciously the way she expects. She lay there breathing deeply, feeling the blood surge beneath his tongue and heated touch. The tingling, warm sensations are indescribable as they spread throughout her body. The experience is almost a pleasurable one were it not for the fact she hates him and feels on the brink of death. Without thinking she arches against him pressing her breast to his mouth, seeking the warmth it provides.

Shame flushes her face as he molests and teases her, Gold smiles inwardly as her moans and breathless sighs increase, knowing how she despises his touch. She is indeed freezing, and he knows he won't be able to keep her down here much longer or she will die of hypothermia. But he also knows that when trying to break someone you don't stop when they're vulnerable in a weakened state, that's when you strike a crushing blow.

He takes his time, careful not to hurt her as his hand and mouth work in tandem. Her eyes remain closed and Gold wonders if she is imagining him to be someone else, someone she actually wants touching her. While he will have no problem forcing her if it came right down to it, he wants to make her enjoy this – to experience the dichotomy of her body enjoying and craving what her mind clearly despises and rejects.

Reality came rushing back to her when his hardness brushes against her leg. Her eyes shot open as she squirms adamantly beneath him, her legs closing tightly against him. The rough floor scratches against her back, stealing the air from her lungs. She grabs a fistful of his hair, pulling him from her body.

"Stop this…please just let me go…"

"Stop?" an amused smile spread on his lips, ignoring her as his fingers trail the length between her clenched legs, stopping as he reaches her entrance. "Are you a virgin, dearie, or do you only pretend to be celibate?" She whimpers in protest as he grazes her skin – not rough, but not exactly gentle.

"Please, stop…" she begs, panic choking her words. His mouth moves to her neck, sucking and teasing the flesh down to the hollow of her throat.

"Shh, relax. This doesn't have to hurt for you…" Her fist tightens in his hair, but this time, he wouldn't be moved. His hands moves over her legs, caressing and squeezing the soft flesh of her inner thighs. Her legs close tightly, trapping his hand between them. She cries out as he bites down on her breast, just enough to prove his point. Her legs loosen their hold and he moves his hand further up, drawing small circles over her lips, not quite parting them, not quite touching them, just a faint impression of his finger lingering over her.

She closes her eyes, avoiding his gaze as his finger slips inside her; probing, twisting and teasing, then adding another. Squirming away, she struggles relentlessly; her walls clench around his fingers, trying to force them out as he pushes in deeper.

"I don't want this, I don't want you!"

"Your body says differently..." He holds up his fingers wet with her arousal, smiling as her cheeks flush red. She looks away, tears streaming from her eyes as he stretches her open, his grip tight in her hair. For someone so innocent it is easy to twist that fact; to make her believe she wants it – that she enjoys it. "Do you like the pain? Is that why you provoke me?"

"No…" she whispers tearfully, feeling the vomit rising in her throat at his words. "Please I'm begging you, please don't do this."

"Don't bother lying dearie, I won't tell. You're so wet it's obvious you're enjoying what I'm doing…" The manacle dug into the tender flesh of her ankle, reminding her just how helpless she is to prevent this. Despair and hopelessness took over, resigned to what is happening. What else could she do? Fighting would only turn him on more and he would cause her more pain…she couldn't endure any more pain.

Fairies aren't meant to be in love, they didn't have sex just as Mother Superior never had sex in this world. She knew that this is supposed to be a loving and caring act, and despite that he is being gentle, it is only a matter of time before it turns violent. His fingers circle inside her, and while what he is doing is repulsive and uncomfortable there is no denying the pleasure that had begun to build. The pure humiliation and defeat she is experiencing at his hands is just too much. She is bare beneath him, at his mercy and she hates it; hates him – hates herself.

"I don't want this, please, don't. Please," defeat laces her small voice, confused why her body would be responding to his unwanted touch. It had to be magic, a spell of some kind that is making her body respond.

"I don't care what you want." He growls, his fist tightening in her hair.

Gold chuckles darkly and moves to kneel in front of her, his eyes cold and emotionless as he glares at her. Fear, hatred and disgust battle for dominance in her eyes as she watches him toss his suit jacket to the ground, unbuttoning his shirt with a devious smile. A disgusted groan escapes her lips as he unbuttons his pants, though he doesn't remove them. Her hands come up against his chest, her arms obviously weak and unable to push him away. She dug her nails into his skin, raking her fingers across his chest. It is all she could do to resist him.

"Do not make this a fight. You will regret it," he assures her, a dark warning in his voice.

"I will regret it more if I don't." she whispers breathlessly, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

"It's no matter; the outcome will be the same." At that he presses the tip of his cock against her entrance. Her body stiffens, shaking her head furiously.

"No," she chokes hoarsely, "Please," Gold smiles as he traces his thumb over her lips, bringing his face within inches of hers.

"I relish in your anguish. If you wish me to torture you, then I will happily oblige. Or…you can stop resisting and take some pleasure in all this. The choice if yours…"

"Haven't you done enough?" she weeps bitterly.

"And I can still do more…" He growls, "I would even be gentle with you if you'd allow it, but if you insist on fighting then you leave me no choice but to be violent."

"And what? Lay here and let you use me, and then once you are tired and finished, I get to just wait for you to do it again? Well, I'm sorry, but I refuse to willingly be your whore," she spat with the last of her defiance.

"Then you will be my whore unwillingly," he growls, pulling himself off her and rolling her onto her stomach. Her eyes glaze over as she removes herself from her body, retreating to a place where he couldn't touch her. She cries out in her mind to the God of this world, praying for mercy, for rescue – for the earth to swallow her whole. Anything that would stop what is about to happen. After serving him faithfully these thirty years she hopes that he would answer her.

There is only silence. She shouldn't be surprised; the so called benevolent God she serves sacrifices his only son – why would she be any different? It's not like her faith was ever real. Then she understood only too well what Rumpelstiltskin had suffered. He was on his knees before that soldier to save his son's life, praying for mercy, for rescue that would keep his son from the war. And she is the one who ignored his pleas.

Her nails dig into her skin as she clenches her fists with nothing else to hold onto, her body tenses in anticipation of his entrance. Her heart pounds relentlessly as he slips inside, surprisingly gentle. Her muscles clamp down around him, trying to force him out. He only pushes in deeper, stretching her slowly as he thrusts in and out. Thenhis fingers clamped down on her hips as he thrust himself to the hilt in a single stroke. Her shrill cry echoes around them; a pain unlike anything she'd ever experienced rips through her. She releases her held breath, inhaling sharply as he thrust in again. Her lungs seem coated in ice, strangling her desperate attempts to breathe.

Her screams of pain excite him as he began a series of brutal, quick thrusts that stabs the breath out of her. Her choked sobs and begging only spur him on, her body quivering as the intense pain rips through her.

She is impossibly tight, and he knows he'll never last as long as he wants to. The burning in his leg furiously reminds him of his limitations, angering him further as he moves with long, deep thrusts. He drives into her without mercy, using that pain and all his rage, taking it all out on her.

"That's right, dearie, beg me…" he croons, wrapping a hand around her throat. But he doesn't squeeze, relishing the sound of her pleading and crying. The power surging through him at her helplessness, at his complete control over her arouses him even more. "I'm only too happy to deny you…"

She made no reply, her body ceasing its struggle against him. He thrust in hard again and holds himself still as he hovers over her, slowing his rhythm. He momentarily feels guilty as his thoughts drifts to Belle, abhorring himself that he is engaged in this intimate act with a woman he despises. He reminds himself that this isn't intimacy, that she is little more than a shell – a hollow receptacle for his loathing and hatred.

Gold thrusts into her with renewed fervor, his arm reaching around her and rubbing hard on the sensitive bud. Her eyes shot open with a sharp intake of breath, his fingers twisting and wriggling and shocking the delicate nub with their brutal insistence.

"Oh god, what are you doing?!" she gasps sharply, lunging forward trying to dislodge his fingers. He smiles as she begs him to stop, pleased that her fight seems to return to her.

Her pleas fell on deaf ears, her choked sobs uncontrollable as he thrust into her lacking any of the gentleness she'd been hoping for. It is a pleasure so intense it is painful as he continues to torture her, driving in and out despite her desperate pleas for him to stop. Her back arches, her body convulsing beneath him, feeling the pressure knotting deep in her abdomen. It is a completely foreign feeling, frightening in its intensity.

There is no pillow to hide her face in, nothing to grip with her hands to distract from the agony that tore through her. She is exposed, her shame and degradation on display for his enjoyment. Her eyes drift closed as his groans fill her ears, his arm tight around her waist. Her self-loathing increases with the intensifying pleasure as he moves inside of her, no longer fighting against him. In all of this torture, she could at least have a few brief moments of relief. For a moment the emptiness is gone, the pain replaced by a delicious, all-consuming pleasure. The feel of him moving inside her is as torturous as it is wonderful.

All at once pain lances through her, crying out as her first orgasm wracks her mind and body. Stars dance before her eyes as her face falls against the ground, breathless and dizzy from such a powerful, overwhelming experience. But when the sensations subside as suddenly as they appear, a fresh wave of bitter tears leaks from her eyes. The emptiness returns and the pain remains, disgusted as her mind realizes that the moans of pleasure echoing around her are her own.

"You were once so high and mighty above everyone else, now your moaning like a bitch in heat getting fucked on the floor by the monster you despise…" He grips her breast with his free hand, falling against her back. His leg cramps and burns, furiously demanding he cease his movements.

"I could keep you like this…keep you locked away for my use whenever and however I see fit…"

"I would rather die…"

"Ohhh, I know…" he groans mockingly, "…which is why you will kept alive. You will be forced to live with it, just as I is for three hundred years." His teeth sank into her shoulders sucking on her flesh, his fist kneading violently as he moves powerfully between her legs.

She cries out as his teeth sink into her back, practically flat on the ground as she came down from her second orgasm. Him pressing against her clit is an incredible feeling; an intense indecipherable combination of pleasure and pain that had her wriggling to get away from it. She felt overextended, overworked and far too sensitive as he roughly plows into her. Hot tears stain her cheeks as her breath is stolen from her lungs, feeling him swell inside her. She let out a wordless cry of despair as a deeper, more powerful orgasm overtook her, building off the intensity of the one before it.

Gold smiles sadistically as her body moves in rhythm with his relentless assault. His hand works in sync with his cock as they rub mercilessly against that sweetest of spots. But still he does not stop, incredibly close himself as he drives even deeper. She writhes against him, and he slows his movements, rubbing more gently as she sobs and whimpers at the over-extension of her body.

"I wanted you to know what it feels like to be powerless, to be as helpless as I was that night against five soldiers. In my state, I couldn't stop them from taking my son; I couldn't protect the one person I love. And you watched as I humiliated myself and did absolutely nothing. And so here you are, powerless – helpless to protect yourself as I humiliate you again. Tell me, how does it feel?"

"You tell me…I'm sure you know."

She wails as a third, more painful, orgasm hit her forcing her into the throes of an agonizing ecstasy. The pain persists until finally he grunts loudly, pushing into her with one last rough stroke spilling his seed inside her. He falls against her, resting his head against her tormented skin panting for breath.

Her legs buckle beneath their combined weight, collapsing breathlessly to the floor. After a moment he finally pulls out of her, the pain and relief of the action are almost equal. She lay motionless and weeps. Her stomach twists and knots in disgust at what she just experienced; what he just filled her with. The urge to vomit is stronger than ever and she swallows desperately to avoid it. His weight is crushing her and more than anything she wants him off of her. Though, her wish is to be denied as his fist grips her hair once more, his mouth against her ear.

"Do you feel it yet, Blue? Do you feel the sting of the realization that you are no longer in control? That you're powerless to do anything to help yourself or to go back and fix that one mistake? That is regret dearie…it's reliving a single moment in time over and over wishing with all your being that you could go back and change it, knowing you'll never have the chance." He pushes her face into the ground as he pushes himself up onto his knees retrieving his cane, disgusted with himself as much as with her.

"Good girl…a few more rounds of that and you'll be free to go." He says with a few slaps on her tender backside. She winces with a soft groan, confused when he unlocks her last ankle restraint. Bringing her hands just under her chin, she curls into herself, covering her nakedness as best she could. Silent tears fall at the extreme soreness in her muscles, watching numbly as he limps heavily to the stairs.

"You're going to let me live?" she asks hesitantly, her eyes skeptical as his words echo in her mind. It simply hadn't occurred to her, certain that he would let her die down here. A mischievous smirk forms on his lips as he stops at the stairs and turns to face her.

"Of course, I can't have the mother of my child dying in a basement now, can I?" He replis calmly. Her eyes widens filling with a mix of horror and hatred. Her heart stops, staring at him incredulously. He had to be joking!

"Ex-excuse me?" she stammers breathlessly, certain she misheard him.

"You heard me. You robbed me of my son. The way I see it, is that it's only fair if you give me a new one." At that he smiles as he starts up the stairs. "There will be a hot bath and a fresh set of clothes awaiting you as soon as you get up here."

Horror fills her exploding heart as he disappears from the staircase. This can't be happening. She swallows hard the impending eruption of emotion and what little remains in her stomach. He couldn't be serious; no one would ever believe that she would have his child willingly. Would he keep her locked up here for the full 9 months to protect the child? Would he simply kill her after she gave birth? As her tears overtake her, she forces herself up onto her knees, her chest heaving desperately as she struggles for each breath.

Her whole body aches, quivering from exhaustion; slick with sweat. She doesn't know how long his kindness will last and all she wants is to be in that bathtub, scrubbing every last semblance of him from her body. His touch, his scent – removing his seed from her body before his wish could be fulfilled. She could barely stand up straight, her legs clench together at the thighs due to her extreme tenderness. As she struggles her way up the stairs she knows it would make no difference – if it is what he truly wants, he would hold her here until he is certain she is pregnant.

Author Notes: When I first posted this story I was very nervous posting this chapter, I still am I think. Comments/constructive criticism are welcome (and appreciated, so long as it's not mean) There should only be one chapter and this story will be complete.