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I Am The Nurse At Your Disco posting in Labyrinth_Fic
User: labyrinth_fic (posted by starsinthesnow)
Date: 2007-07-18 09:34
Subject: ~+ Caelia's Tale +~
Security: Public
Location:living room
Mood:jubilantjubilant
Music:'Swallow' - Emilie Autumn
Title: Caelia's Tale
Rating: NC-17, not suitable for adults, adult themes.
Author's Notes: Adult Sarah gets something she hardly wished for and embarks on a very personal journey. BDSM.
Disclaimer: Anyone you recognise does not belong to me, I am merely nabbing these characters to have a little fun with them.



A castle shrouded in darkness, partially hidden by swirling masses of mist and fog loomed out of nowhere and made Sarah catch her breath.

They had travelled quickly, once some odd and ugly little creatures had arrived to take Legacy away. Sarah had broken down at that point, screaming and crying for her little one with outstretched fingers, but Goroth had restrained her as he instructed the trolls to take the baby and find the best home possible for her. Sarah struggled and fought to the point of exhaustion, cried herself almost sick, but the Troll King held her fast with cold gloved hands.

He had warned her in a deadly tone that if she did not relax and keep to her side of the bargain, then the child would be returned to him in an instant and turned into a troll on the spot. Sarah silenced herself and left her apartment with him, a dark cloth placed over her head and shoulders to obscure her view of their journey.

She was lead on a short walk and then guided up into what she could only assume was a carriage. Where was the magic of last time? Sarah had expected to be whisked away, just like before. It became concrete to her then that everything had changed and her perceptions of what this sort of arrangement was about was not the same. There was no glitter or wonder. She was an adult now.

She could barely breathe.

Horses hooves – or what she assumed were horses –thundered beneath them and Goroth kept one hand clamped about her upper arm. The cloth remained over her head and shoulders for what seemed like an age, until suddenly it was snatched away.

There stood the looming, ugly castle with its spiralling turrets and all she could do was stare and stare through the carriage window, the only light provided by the crescent moon and the North Star.

*

Inside the castle, everything began to blur.

They were greeted by some sort of entourage; half of them troll and half of them humanoid in appearance. Sarah wondered briefly what made them different, where they all trolls but in different forms? Or were the humans above the trolls, if they were human at all? If she’d learned anything over the past year or so, it was that appearances could be deceiving.

Women with messy, tousled hair and heavy rouge pulled at the fabric of her dress with dirty fingers, their eyes wide with wonderment. Squat boggle eyed creatures hopped about and reached to their master, their mouths snapping and snarling, chattering and begging for information.

A goblet of something red – wine, probably – was thrust into her hand and someone barked at her to drink it. It didn’t taste like wine, but it was something alcoholic and sweet.

Something sharp poked her in the back and just as Goroth’s arms slipped under hers to support her, everything grew dim and the noise and smell and chaos suddenly seemed a light year away…

*

Sarah awoke to more noise. She was still wearing her red dress with the wide belt, but as she looked down at herself she saw it was now filthy and covered in handprints and streaks of what she hoped was mud. She lay atop a haystack on a flagstone floor and her bare arms and legs itched and burned.

The noise was coming from all around and as she sat up to peer at her new surroundings, she felt a scream catch in her throat like a zipper snagging her skin. She was in a cell, complete with steel bars and her cell was not the only one. About half a dozen women of all ages, shapes and sizes were also imprisoned, all of them talking and screeching and flailing about, hanging onto their bars like lunatics.

This was a nightmare. There was no chance this was real. How could this be real?

She slumped back down onto the hay and began to cry quietly.

Whatever she had been given to drink was obviously some sort of sedative, she could tell that much. Years of taking the occasional valium before appearing on set or onstage had accustomed her body to that drowsy, content feeling. She was not content now however, even if her mind was reeling in fog and her limbs ached.

The noise began to fade again as her tears dripped hot onto the hay.

*

Morning broke through the prison in slices of pale sunlight, moving slowly through one cell at a time, warming the flagstones. Sarah opened her eyes slowly, squinting and looked directly above her at the filthy ceiling.

This was the first day of a new life and after a few deep breathes she tried her best to steel herself. She was going to have to be strong, even if it meant constantly reminding herself that she was doing this for Legacy. Wherever her daughter was now, she hoped she was safe and taken care of. That would at least make this seem a little worthwhile…

Suddenly there was a clanging noise on the bars of her cell. A guard stood there, one of the human looking ones. He was dressed in a similar fashion to Goroth, in shades of black and grey, only he held a spear and wore an odd little helmet with sharp horns on either side of it. His eyes were heavyset and not entirely welcoming.

‘His Majesty wishes you to be prepared for service now. You will accompany me to be cleaned and anointed, then you will be officially presented to him,’ he said.

‘Alright,’ Sarah nodded and pulled herself upright, before standing shakily on her feet. The word ‘anointed’ rolled like distant thunder in the back of her mind, but she forced herself not to focus on it.

He took a large bunch of rusty keys from his belt, selected one and opened the door to her cell. Moving towards him cautiously, Sarah decided it might be best to keep her head down for the moment.

Her eyes downcast, she followed him through the door, down a short corridor and then up a small flight of stone steps.

*

Everything about Goroth’s castle was dark. Morbidity seemed to exude from every square inch, corridor linked onto corridor and though the walls were not painted black, each detail and crevice was shrouded in shadow. The entire castle was like a huge dungeon, where everything was twisted and terrifying. Things scurried underfoot in the shadows; unearthly noises in the distance set a flame of fear alight in her belly, her eyes squinting to see where exactly she was going.

Sarah’s mind returned her another memory of the Goblin castle. She couldn’t help but think that though the Goblin castle was chaotic and far from opulent, it was at least bright and full of song and laughter.

She kept her eyes on the back of the guard in front of her, purposefully not concentrating on the strange little whines or creaks that emanated from behind the filthy stone walls and under the floors. It was like walking through the dim passageways of a castle from another time, a time when laws and justice meant little to those who had power.

They passed many identical doors, each one cut into the stone of the walls with a flaming torch above them, highlighted with copper studs and bars.

They seemed to pass at least thirty of these doors, each time Sarah assuming that they had reached their destination, but on they travelled, her feet soundless in the wake of his clomping boots. She couldn’t understand how the guard could tell these doors apart, but he didn’t pause or turn his head to a single one of them

Then they arrived.

It was a door just like any other of them, but apparently the correct one. The guard stopped abruptly and Sarah almost walked into him, her hand darting out to grab the slimy wall before she hit him.

‘You’ll be taken care of in here,’ he grunted, glaring at her out of the corner of his eye.

‘Oh… alright. Thank you…’ she replied, watching him unlock the door with the same bunch of keys as before.

The guard left her then and an arm from within the room reached out to grasp her wrist, pulling her in.

The room was still dark, but not like the corridors or the prison she had spent the night in. Sconces mounted high on the walls filled the room with a flickering yellow glow, casting moving shadows over the large bathing tubs below. There was about six of them, each a few feet apart from the other and for some reason, all of them were full of steaming, fragrant water.

She turned to find the owner of the arm that had grabbed her and saw a strange creature; a female form that appeared to be half troll and half human. She had the height of a very short human, but the twisted, squinting features of a troll. Her hair was a grey mass of sprouting clumps and she wore a grey floral printed dress with an apron.

‘What’s yer name?’ she asked, not unkindly.

‘Sarah,’

‘Not for long, young un,’ she replied.

Sarah’s lips opened slightly, a question in her eyes. What did that mean? She knew she was meant to be a servant, but why was her name about to change? Before she had chance to ask, the woman started to undo her belt for her, teasing the strap out of the buckle with nimble fingers and then she was turned around on the spot by her shoulders so the zipper on her dress could be pulled down.

‘I can do that myself,’ Sarah stated, feeling a little dizzied.

‘I’m sure you can,’ came the determined reply.

When the dress was removed, the little woman bundled it up and headed over to the huge brick fireplace at the far side of the room and despite Sarah’s instant cry of protest, her favourite Chanel dress was burning before her eyes.

Sarah stared, but didn’t speak. A hot tear welled up in each eye, but they did not spill.

‘Off with your underthingies then, quickly now,’ the woman chided and Sarah numbly hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down and then stepping out of them. Next came the bra and then the Italian leather shoes she had bought herself as a divorce gift.

‘Choose a tub then,’ the woman said, returning to her side to pick up the remaining garments, also about to be burned.

Sarah headed to the one nearest to her and climbed in, her heart sinking in her chest and her eyes empty of emotion.

*

Sarah sat in the tub for what seemed like an age. Other women were brought into the room also, women she recognised distantly from the prison cells the night before, but her focus was elsewhere entirely. They were bathed quickly, by the old human-goblin woman and then left to their own devices, putting flowers in their hair and powdering their clean skin with giant powder puffs.

The woman returned eventually, pulling a little three-legged stool up to the side of her tub and taking a seat. Sarah watched her roll her sleeves up and then her arm was pulled out of the water to be lathered up by a huge foaming sponge. She looked at the woman, made eye contact with her and then dropped her eyes again.

Judging by the lascivious behaviour of the other women in the room, her fate was pretty much sealed. Slaves or servants don’t usually have to be primped and perfected to that extent to do petty jobs like cleaning or cooking. Sarah had come to terms with what her role was to be and that was why right now, she felt utterly ashamed.

Why her? Why had she been given this cursed bond to this evil world?

‘You’re going to have to swallow that pout, little one, or the King will be most unimpressed,’ the woman said, lifting her arm higher now to soap underneath.

‘I can’t do this…’ Sarah muttered.

‘But you must. You agreed to it. Either the child would have come to work, or you would. You should watch what you say,’

‘I was just retelling a story. I thought what happened last time was a series of dreams… I never believed all this could be real. I was only… I was only telling what happened… I would never, ever send my daughter away… never…’

The woman dropped her arm back into the water then and seemed to think to herself for a moment. Sarah looked to her, her eyes wide and brimming with fear and regret.

‘I’m very sorry child, but you’ve made a deal. You can’t go back on a deal,’ she said.

‘I know…’ Sarah thought absently to the sorts of deals she was used to, movie contracts and fees from agents, advertising campaigns and product endorsements. All of that seemed a million miles away now.

Where was that teenage gusto she used to have? Ten years ago she would have fought tooth and nail to avoid this.

It seemed her submission had already begun.

*

After the bathing, Sarah was dried off and told to anoint herself. She had assumed this would be some sort of strange ceremony involving rituals and verses, precious oils and piercing, but instead it was just a case of putting lotion and powder on her skin and a flower in her hair. She chose a flower she had not seen before, something very similar to a lily, but it was navy blue in colour with details of white and gold. She tucked it into her long raven hair and caught her reflection in a looking glass by the fire.

She looked good, she had to concede that much. Her body was in excellent shape despite having a baby daughter; she had had an image to uphold and had done so well by returning to the gym and sticking to a strict organic diet once Legacy had been born. She remained naked save for the flower and was instructed to wait now, for the King to summon her.

The other girls were not addressed. Sarah asked the woman what their purpose was and was told plainly that it was the same as hers, only tonight she would be the centre of attention and they would likely be overlooked. They still had to prepare themselves anyway, just in case he fancied a change or more than one of them at the same time.

The other women were not terribly attractive, all of them looked tired and slightly maddened by their situation, their eyes wide and wild and their mannerisms revealing of inner torment. Some were petite like herself and some were large, not one of them really measured up to her.

It occurred to Sarah at once that it was because she had only just arrived. She would probably end up looking so worn eventually…

A little later, the guard that had delivered her returned, announcing that the King was ready to see her. The other women looked somewhat relieved and they began to relax and chat amongst themselves. Sarah rose, covering her breasts with her arms and followed the guard, ignoring his derisive snort at her coyness.

*

The throne room belonging to the Troll King was not dissimilar in layout to the one belonging to the Goblin King. It had the same shape and layout, but the throne itself was sharp and twisted in its styling and the drapings, hangings and artwork were decidedly Gothic in style. The architecture varied in slight details, a gargoyle here and there, or some stone ivy carved into an alcove.

A large birdcage with a crow inside hung by the throne and candles flickered from huge candelabrum in each corner of the room. A chandelier hung from the centre of the ceiling, lit with yet more candles, but decorated opulently with black jewels and pointed crystals, like ice filled with smoke.

The King sat atop the throne expectantly, one arm behind his head and on leg over the arm of his throne, his eyes travelling up her body from her feet to the top of her head. If she hadn’t already decided, Sarah knew at that point that she hated this being before her, more than she had ever hated anyone in her life, even Michael.

He looked her over like she was a piece of meat, his eyes unblinking and cold, no sign of emotion on his lips or in his body language. It reminded her fleetingly of a thousand auditions she’d had before she hit the big time, the offers to let herself be seduced in return for that part she so badly wanted.

‘Leave us, Gaarn,’ he said to the guard, who immediately did as he was instructed.

The heavy stone door slammed shut behind him, the noise echoing around the room and crystals trembling in the chandelier. They then were alone.

‘Very nice,’ Goroth said, though his face did not agree with his words. Sarah took a breath and then realised she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t care what he thought either way, whether he approved of her body or not, but she knew she should respond.

‘Do you not have anything to say to your King?’

‘Not really,’ she replied. She felt numb, but honest, despite herself. Her palms felt clammy and she made weak fists at her sides.

Goroth smirked then, a cold smirk that lifted the black of his eyes to a merciless charcoal grey. ‘You will have to change that attitude, or else you will find your time here very unpleasant,’

‘Forgive me your majesty, but I think whatever my attitude, my time here will be unpleasant,’

His smirk faded slightly and he rose from his seat, moving swiftly to stand before her. Sarah suddenly felt rather small. She knew he was right and that she was going to have to do as she was told. She didn’t have a single friend in this world and she wasn’t doing very well at making any new ones so far.

Everyone seemed to look at her as though she were a curious animal in a cage; exotic and new. Which set her apart and made her different.

Being surly didn’t serve her well the first time she left the mortal world and being famous and stubborn was certainly not going to help her this time.

‘What do you expect of me?’ she asked.

‘You are my property now. My possession to rule over and I will use you as I see fit. You have traded yourself into my service and you will obey my every command,’

Sarah nodded. This time around, Sarah had maturity and intelligence on her side. She could be stoic along with the best of them. At least until she could find a way to escape…

‘What sort of duties am I expected to fulfil?’ she asked quietly.

‘You are here for my enjoyment; much like the others you will have no doubt met in the dungeons. You will please me and pleasure me, see to my every sexual need and behave in the manner I expect,’

‘Which is?’

‘So full of questions,’ he said, that smirk returning to full form again. He lifted a hand and stroked a thin finger around the soft line of her jaw.

‘If I have a job to do, I want to do it well,’ she lied, trying not to flinch at his cold touch.

‘And so you should,’ he nodded, ‘I expect you to behave demurely in the presence of others. Despite your state of non-attire, I expect you to be a Lady, very polite and subservient to all I introduce you to. When we are alone, I expect you to be wanton and encouraging to my advances. If I think just for one moment that you are wanting to resist me or my powers, I will punish you in a most severe manner,’

Sarah stared at Goroth, her eyes widened and her lips dry and sore. She let his words sink in, poison sinking into parchment and then she gathered herself and nodded slowly, once.

‘Alright, I can do that for my daughter,’

‘Very brave of you, very honourable,’ he conceded, lowering his hand again to his side. He looked her over again, his eyes dropping to her breasts, which he gazed at for several moments. He truly meant everything he was saying, Sarah could tell that now just by the way his eyes possessed her. She felt owned now, no longer in control of what she wanted.

‘What do you know of slavery? Slavery of this nature?’ he asked, looking back up to her momentarily.

‘I know that I am supposed to do as I am told and to expect punishment if I do not. Beyond that, I am something of a novice I’m afraid,’ she said, honestly.

Goroth laughed, an icy sparkle in his eyes. He was totally, thoroughly enjoying this. He placed a gloved hand on one of her shoulders, clasping somewhat gently and Sarah continued to look him in the eye. Then he started to press, indicating it was time for her to fall to her knees before him.

She did so, not wanting to resist at such an early stage, when everything was in such sensitive balance. Her knees touched the flagstones beneath her and her hands gathered in her lap.

‘Remember to always do this in my presence, first of all. Remember that and we shall get on famously for starters,’ he said.

Sarah nodded, looking up at him.

‘You will address me as ‘Master’, should you forget that at any time you will be publicly humiliated,’ he added next. She nodded again, her cheeks pinking over slightly at the mere thought of what type of humiliation that might be.

‘Once you have earned it, you will be granted a collar of my ownership. You will wear it with pride and honour,’

‘Earned it?’

‘When I am sure I wish to keep you long term. If I am satisfied with you as a slave,’ he explained, waving a gloved hand through the air as though it were the easiest thing in the world to understand. Sarah nodded, but something sad in her stomach burned like a furnace.

‘But most of all, you will obey only to the name I choose for you. Your previous name ceases to exist from now on,’ he said.

Sarah closed her eyes.

‘Your new name shall be… Caelia.’
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wickedwitch74
User: wickedwitch74
Date: 2008-07-23 00:34 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
I loved what you posted here so much that I went over to aff.net to find the other parts that are up, and I really think you've got something great going here. Please update soon!
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