Fallen Leaves - Broken Dreams (Sweet and Wolf)

[SweetSerenade]

Aisling released a heavy sigh as she hauled herself out of bed. Her feet touched the ground, and she turned to look at the clock. It was only nine in the morning, the boys were at school, her mom at AA, her stepfather at a men's day out. It gave her plenty of free time to clean the house. Which was something she did every day, she just had to arrange things 'just right' - because if they weren't there would be hell to pay. She had learned that early on, and the thought made her close her green eyes and catch her breath. It was ok, she could make it through the day.

She ran her hands through her hair dark red-brown hair, as she tried to wake herself up more. There wasn't any coffee, she'd have to go to the grocery store. She would need a cup before her day really got going. She stood up, stretching out and groaning as she did. Her ribs ached, from yesterday. She still remembered that vicious kick that Nathaniel had dealt her. She hadn't even done anything wrong, other than the fact that she had refused to give her brothers sweets before dinner.

The young woman trudged to the shower, stripping out of her sleep clothing. It was a nice figure she had if a bit willowy. Her body was still filling out, and coming into its full bloom. A Late bloomer, her mother had once told her. She was still on the more petite side, not very tall. She reached maybe five two and had to work hard to remain at a healthy weight. Bruises covered her body, a few scars here and there. Even at twenty-five, she remembered how she got all of them. Even after nine years of the abuse and neglect, she remembered how each one was formed.

Her body was slim, delicate almost, with the signs of an hourglass figure. She still had some growth to go, before it would fully form. She stopped to look in the mirror, taking in the view of herself. Her breasts were smaller than others, not that large. A good handful, but nothing more. They didn't need a bra, that often, but she still wore a sports bra when she had to. Her skin tone was even, all around. A sort of pale moon-kissed peach tone, that had a healthy glow. Her face was just as delicate as the rest of her. Looking like it was as fragile as a porcelain doll.

Her eyes had an odd cast to them, looking almost feline in their shape. They were a bright green color that people often confused for blue in the right lights, one her mother said her father had given her. Her hair framed her face, curling in towards her chin. It was cut into layers when she could afford it and was rather flattering to her appearance. Her hair was curled slightly, long, and full of life - even with the way she was neglected when it came to her eating. The hair was such a dark reddish brown, that most people often asked her if it came from a box. But that was how her hair had almost always been, it had been a brighter red that darkened with age.

She took her shower and then got dressed. She went to the store, grabbed the groceries, and then came back to work on cleaning the house. She spent most of the day like this, knowing the twins were going out to see friends after school. Her mother would be gone till late, and that gave her plenty of time to finish cleaning the house before her stepfather came home. If she moved quick enough, she could get to the library before late that evening. She worked hard, she always did, to get the house clean.

She was almost done, working on the kitchen, when the weird tingling passed through her. She shook her head, taking it as just a cold chill. She had picked clothing perfect for cleaning, comfortable but functioning. She wore a green t-shirt and jeans. Her shoes resting off towards the front door, since she was busy working on the floor. She had her coffee, had her food, and was now almost done with the list of things she had to do every day. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and then rolled up into a bun, to keep it out of her way.

She would have to try to sneak away to visit Miss Sarah's Library later, hopefully, she'd be able to. The woman had kept trying to convince Aisling to leave her family, but Aisling had nowhere to go - no work experience other than when she volunteered in Sarah's library. Sarah had told her, after playing with makeup one day, that Aisling could easily be a model, but how could Aisling even survive in the real world with her lack of social skills? Perhaps she could just stop thinking about it while she worked on the floor. She could get through today, it was just another day.

At least that was what she thought, she was not aware how much her life was going to change. How the world was going to shift and shatter on that very day. That this day would be the beginning of the rest of forever...

[GreenWolf]

Nathaniel Clemmons had had a particularly bad day.  He was having those more and more often, lately, and it showed in both the premature graying of his beard and the thinning of the hair he used to pride himself in.  Work had been a shit show.  Construction was never as easy as people made it sound, and when the boss gets the wrong permits, you find yourself suddenly out of work for an extended period of time.  Maybe he should have filed for disability, that damn hernia was starting to press out of his intestinal wall like the knob on a tree, but that dried-up, old bitch he'd made the mistake of marrying wouldn't work and he was left carrying the costs of everyone in the household, like a fucking chump.  Still wearing those same faded flannels and torn jeans to work just so they could eat!  He'd have to carve something out of that last paycheck to get new boots.  One of the steel toes was right falling out of the hole on his left one!

The boys had gone out drinking after being let out early.  He'd had a doctor's appointment where they'd discussed his growing weight, increased cholesterol, encroaching diabetes and elevated blood pressure, and then he met up with them afterwards.  Sheila, one of the bartenders, came around to greet Nate, overly friendly as always.  Fuck the doctor, what did he know?  Nate was a decidedly good looking man, muscular from a life of honest, hard labor, not jerking off in a gym like those pansy ass whatdoyoucallem now?  Metrosexuals?  Sounds like gay-city-boys-in-hiding, probably why they don't use that word no more.  Sure, he had the thickening of the midsection, middle age's "gift" of a spare tire, but fuck, who didn't at his age?  Sheila certainly loved putting her hands all over him, telling him it was time to leave the wife and kids and run off.  They hadn't fooled around yet, not much anyway.  Not as so it'd be considered cheating.  Blow jobs don't count, but of course she wanted more!  His strong nose had never been broken and he still had all his teeth, giving him a face that'd have been handsome, if it wasn't hidden behind all that facial hair.  Even still, twice as good looking as most of the other buck in this shitty town.  Handsome in a rugged sort of way, and he was proving he could provide for a family, no wonder she was always pawing at him! 

He couldn't do it though.  Honor, responsibility, these were the things that kept him going home and handing over that paycheck to keep the fucking lights on.  He had loved his wife, once.  Hated her now, but the boys were his and he'd be damned if they'd grow up in a broken home.  He drank more than he intended, thoughts of his home-life making those shots more of a necessary evil.  He took out his hair tie, ran thick, calloused fingers through long, thinning locks of graying brown, trying to ignore the feel of his scalp as he tied his hair back again.  He could probably have handled it all better, if it wasn't for that entitled, little cunt of a step daughter.  Kids these days took forever to move out of the fucking house, and they needed everything handed to them.  He was plum sick of his wife anyway, she smelled like she sweat vodka, and AA meetings didn't take all day.  He should probably pay more attention to this sort of thing, but he was exhausted all the fucking time and killing himself for an ungrateful family sucked his will to bother with nonsense like chasing after a deadbeat wife, or hell, even shaving.

He was fairly certain he would find his "darling wife" drunk or high in a gutter somewhere during the day, if he bothered to look.  Vomit cleaned off in a port-o-john before she stumbled into the meeting like a good little automaton.  If she wasn't gonna get over that dead husband of hers, why the fuck did she chain him into this life to suffer with her?  And that Daughter.  What the fuck kind of name was Aisling, anyway?  Father must have been one of those dirty hippies, left behind a lazy get, whines and bitches about her chores and responsibilities while she sucks the family dry.  Half the food bill could be cut out, if she'd just get the fuck out of the house!  (He was very drunk by this point)

Oh sure, she worked sometimes in that sorry excuse for a library, where that shrew couldn't bear to give up her home.  But did she give him any of that for the bills?  No, 'course not.  Mommy wouldn't hear of it.  Mommy was gonna end up dead in that gutter soon enough, leaving him caring for a bitch who wasn't his.  She'd grown into a fine looking woman, sure 'nough, had to chase boys away with a shotgun to keep her from getting pregnant!  "Awwww fuck, boys.  Just noticed the time.  Gotta make sure 'Cinderella' done her chores."  He removed his ass from the bar stool, stumbled out to the beat-up, red pick-up truck and started her up to head home.  Break the news that the bread'd be a little tight while them permits got settled.  Not like anyone cared how hard this life was for him, the only one who really bothered to earn money for the security of the "family."

He was half-way home when he began considering that his bitch step-daughter could chip into the family well being in other, more extracurricular ways.  God knew she was the only thing that got him hard anymore, walking around the house in those skimpy little outfits, or those work out clothes, (That she cleaned the house in.)  You knew a woman had a great ass when you could make that swelling out against sweats.  Ain't nothin' supportin' that.  He worked hard, didn't he?  Supporting this family, least he could come home to is a waggin' tail!  (Nope, they didn't have a dog.)  And it wasn't like she was a kid, quarter century old, mooching off a family she didn't help, well my god she was gonna start pulling his weight, har har, and if his wife didn't like it, she could get on her knees or get the fuck out and starve.

As the door slammed open and he stepped into the house, it didn't matter what she'd done or been doing.  Nate's mind was on one thing, and they still had time to sort the details between em before the boys or ball and chain got home.  "I'm home, Aisling!"  He shouted, undoing his belt and slipping it cleanly from the loops of his jeans as he stumbled through the foyer.  It hadn't been intentional, just reflex, as was folding it over into a lash.  "Where are ya, girl?  We need to discuss 'Rent,' if'n you intended t'stay under my roof."  His words trailed off into a drunken mumble as he stumbled towards and up the stairs, planning to test Aisling's gag reflex as soon as possible.  She wanted to suck this family dry, he'd show her where she could start!  The rest of his ramblings were in a softer, quite besotted voice of questionable clarity.  "No more free ride, pretendin' t'be a house wife without gettin' into the important respons'bilities of bein' one.  The breadwinner has needs you need t'see to!"

[SweetSerenade]

Aisling was focused on her task, starting near the sink and working her way out. The dishes washed by hand and laid out to air dry on the counter, Nathaniel didn't like her using the dishwasher or wasting towels on wiping the dishes down. They looked better air dried anyway. She mumbled under her breath as she worked, pushing back a strand of hair and huffing a little as she worked on a spot that her brothers had made rather bad with their asshole ways. She really shouldn't think about them that way, they were her baby brothers, but they had never bonded with her. Instead held a derisive disgust for the woman that was their older sister. Her eyes narrowed as she scrubbed harder at the spot.

Working her way through the kitchen floor, knowing the dining room rug would be deep cleaned tomorrow - as that's the day assigned to it. She couldn't deep clean it except for once a week, to keep the integrity of the expensive carpet on the floor. For now, she focused on making sure the kitchen was done to Nathaniel's specifications. She lost track of the time as she worked, and jolted when she heard the noise of him entering. She usually tried to change the clothes she worked in, because she didn't like the looks he gave her, before he got home. But she had gotten so lost in the details of her cleaning - and picking up some spilled grains (who dumps grains on the floor, oh right her asshole brothers), that she had lost track of when he'd get home.

She pushed up from the floor, moving quickly to the cabinet where she kept a dress shirt stuffed into the back of the cabinet. Slipping it on over the shirt she wore, and giving herself more coverage as she tucked her head down and went back to scrubbing. "I'm in the kitchen Nathaniel, working on the floor." She said as she kept her voice even, calm, she wanted to give him no reason to hit her. He sounded drunker than usual and was blathering something about rent.

She gave her mother money as much as possible, to help cover her expenses. What she earned from Sarah wasn't much, but it was enough for things here and there, and also to keep her emergency stash - inside a backpack buried in the front hall closet - supplied for if she ever truly had to run. She pushed up, using the floor towel to dry off most of the area, satisfied with the work. "One moment, I'll get you one of the Beer stash!" She said as she went to the mini-fridge kept in the pantry behind bags, the one her mother didn't know about. Yes, she was supporting his drinking, when her mother didn't like it, but he beat her worse when he didn't have one when he got home. She grabbed one, cracking it open and then leaving it on the counter as she turned to set up some sort of snack for him.

Dinner wasn't for awhile, at least it needed to be ready when her mother and the boys got home, but the least she could do was make sure he had something to eat when he got home. "Do you want Roast beef or ham on your sandwich today?" her strange shifting eyes drifted in the direction of the noises from him, her scurrying around hadn't taken long, but she was worried about the weirdness of his new actions.

[GreenWolf]

Nathaniel hadn't made it up too far, when he heard the sounds of Aisling calling to him from the kitchen.  Meaty hand grabbed the railing to keep from falling as he tried to spin around and head back the way he came.  The fucking stairs needed to be fixed before someone broke their neck!  He navigated his way back down, holding tight to the railing and trying to discern how the fuck the steps came loose from the house!  It was like walking down one of those rope contraptions at the park he would take the boys to on Saturdays.  Tomorrow, when he was sober, he would discover that the stairs were just fine, but for the moment, the death trap was one more thing to be angry about.  Feet firmly on the floor, his boots were kicked off to clatter against the front door and tumble somewhere in the vicinity of where Aisling's sneakers were, where they should be.

The kitchen floor was gleaming, and the brilliance of the sheen made him grin.  So clean he could eat that pussy off this floor!  No, wait ... that didn't make any sense.  She'd done a great job, but didn't she shrill that she'd been still working on it?  How fucking long did it take her to clean the house!  He'd done cleaning before, you work at it, it got done before noon and you had the whole rest of the day to fuck off!  What the fuck took her so long?  "Floor looks nice," he grumbled as politely as he could manage as he stepped onto the smooth surface in his thick, gray socks.  If he was worried about the stairs, he should have been more concerned with the slippery floor without traction.  The open beer on the counter caught his attention first, and he immediately forgot about how she'd said she was still working on the floor.  It seemed done to him, and he was still thirsty!

Sipping the foam off the top, he sidled up behind her as she worked to collect the stuff she'd need to make him a sandwich.  "Ham."  He'd trained her well, his little house slave, though if you'd asked him if he'd given her a list of demands and punctuating them with his fists, he'd have stated they were merely suggestions.  He was disappointed to see she's so covered up by that large shirt, but then, wasn't he just saying she needed to cover up?  Cleaning done well, beer ready, working on food he wasn't even hungry enough to eat.  She was doing a good job taking care of him, in a way his wife never did.  It crossed his mind that perhaps he was being too hard on her, and then suddenly, somehow, he saw himself as some sort of reward.

He reached out towards her, to let his fingers brush through her reddish-brown hair, intent on slipping it back behind one of her ears.  "Such a good girl, Aisling."  Women liked to hear that, right?  It was like complimenting her and showing her he noticed.  "I'm very happy with how you been keepin' the house, while your mom ain't been able to."  Whether successful or not, she was sure to feel his hot breath, whiskey and gin washing over the back of her neck and shoulder, as he leaned closer.  He was still undecided if he was planning to whisper or nip at her exposed ear.  He went with the whisper.  "Very happy.  I'm thinkin' you need to be rewarded, and if you keep bein' such a good girl, maybe we can lighten your workload with somethin' you'd find more enjoyable."

[SweetSerenade]

Aisling was doing what she could to not cause any trouble, she knew when she caused trouble it was when she was hit the hardest. Just turning at the waist made her ribs creak with pain, she knew there was quite the bruise on her side, and she would have to keep that hidden as best as possible. Good thing she had put the larger shirt on, she stiffened when he entered the kitchen, her work becomes almost mechanical. Her breathing is calm, evened out, she is acting like nothing is wrong, but the way she feels is definitely not ok. She shouldn't feel like this, she should get away. Maybe Miss Sarah would give her a place to hide? She seemed like the type to take in those lost to the ways of the world. Perhaps she could have a -

Her internal thoughts were pulled to a halt as she nodded at his request for Ham, working on the sandwich and staying quiet. She was really confused by the compliments, he didn't usually compliment her. Was something wrong? Was this a new kind of 'game' for him? She released a long breath, trying to not sigh - instead she made it seem like an exhale of a natural way. It was the best way she could keep herself safe. "Oh, thank you, Nathaniel. How are the guys?" She asked softly as she got ready to set the sandwich up for him. Never talk about work, but ask about the buddies all the time. She learned tricks as she went, and one of them was to have him talk about things he enjoyed. The sandwich was almost done, which would be able to be given to him soon - she hoped.

Instead, she was stopped short by the sudden feeling of him behind her, her eyes widening and heart clenching as she sucked in a sharp breath in surprise. For some reason, her ears were overly sensitive, and a shudder rolled through her from it. She didn't like the hot and cold reaction that gave her. "I... you are?" She asked, her voice dropping down to the meek tone that seemed to keep him in the best mood. Was he happy with the work she was doing? She had to bite back the gag that rose from the smell of his breath, forcing herself not to jerk as he tucked a piece of her hair back.

He mentioned a reward and her heart jumped at the thought about being able to get a job. But the mention of something more enjoyable had her brows knitting in confusion. "What do you mean, Sir? A reward? I am just doing the work you asked of me." She said softly, making sure to mention it was asked and not 'beaten into me'. She gripped the counter as she slid the sandwich over on the counter, trying to turn now but was boxed in against the counter and not even really able to move. She wasn't even sure how she was supposed to respond to him anymore, but something inside of her was getting concerned about Nathaniel's actions.

[GreenWolf]

Nate's hand lowered as both of them landed on either side of her, against the counter top.  He wasn't thinking about how this would be taken as closing her escape off, or even her ability to turn around.  As the Alpha male, he needed to put on a show of strength and dominance, like those National Geographic programs he was always falling asleep to.  Arm muscles bulged as he attempted to make himself appear strong before the young female he'd found himself noticing more and more of late, though his mind hadn't acknowledged that fact until now.  He had no idea what was different, only that he wanted to find a way to show himself as the largest gorilla to attract the females.  She'd let him brush back her hair and ... Did he catch a shudder?  He must have been succeeding in his attempt to arouse her!

Now, Nate had taken a strong hand to this girl plenty of times, because: spare the rod, spoil the child.  She was a wild thing when he'd come into this household, undisciplined and ridiculously unaware of simple shit like saying "Please" or "Thank you."  He'd nipped that shit right in the bud.  He had been a better man when this all started, not much of a drinker and truly in love with the older woman whom he now despised so much.  But Aisling had always been a hard one to get through to.  What had started with spanking turned over his knee had quickly become belt-whipping and paddling.  The spankings stopped as she became more rebellious, opting for the quick smack to the back of the head, attempting to knock sense into her.  He'd done it all for her own good, doing what her daddy should have done, and it became more important with her being an influence on the boys.  But, it had kept going, getting worse, and she needed a softer hand now.

His nose dropped to brush against the back of her bared ear, a feathery touch that would be followed up with a light lick of his tongue towards the back of that supple flesh.  When he whispered next, that breath would have alternated hot, as well as chill against the wetness, if contact had been made, matching her own instincts blossoming within her.  "You don't have to act coy with me, Aisling."  His voice was no longer a whisper, but the low spoken words were rumbled forth in a deep, lust-filled breath.  "I'm the man who watched you grow into this long-limbed doe, chasin' off those ruttin' bucks who came callin' to ... to try and ruin you.  Who protected you from 'em, 'em and their wants?  It was always me, keepin' you safe and secure."  His body moved closer to hers, hands lifting from the counter to run down her sides, feeling that billowing shirt collapse under his palms to find her smaller waist and run down the flare of her hips.  He allowed that foreign-to-her hardness tenting his torn jeans to graze that dress-shirt-hidden backside of hers as his hands squeezed her hips with wanton 'affection.'

Hands that, at their worst, had backhanded and grabbed her, to toss her against walls and furniture, now attempted to 'make nice,' in a way no step father should have attempted.  Somewhere in his mind, he was aware of this, and it made him want to sway her to his way of thinking, rather than take her by force.  Oh, those boys had been well received by her, and how she'd cried as he chased them off with a boot to the ass and a blast of airborne shotgun spray.  He knew she wanted them to show her what they'd hid in their pants, to teach her about that throbbing heat and how it felt against and inside of her.  If she wanted it so badly, he would show her those secrets, keeping her safe all the while, from herself, as he'd always done.  "I'm the man of the house, girl.  A man has needs and these needs ain't gettin' satisfied.  You have needs too, I seen 'em.  I seen the way you looked at them boys, and I'm thinkin' we can help each other out.  It'll be our ... little secret."

[SweetSerenade]

Aisling shivered, tried to shift to slip away but only found herself trapped by his arms. Her eyes widened, unable to be seen by him, her body quivering now at the feeling of being trapped. Something inside of her was snapping and getting more terrified than ever before. Never before had he trapped her lip this, much less with the strange way he was acting. Her hands gripped the counter, as she tried to focus herself and keep the shaking from being noticeable. It was hard to keep the shaking from starting, the feeling of his large frame bearing down on her slight one. She was shaking from the fear rising, as her mind tried to process what he had been even talking about. Nathaniel hadn't been nice to her in a long time, not since she was young.

Her eye twitched, unable to stop the flashing micro expression of terror. She drew in a sharp breath and then slowly exhaled, trying to sooth herself. She remembered all those heavy hands, the belt, the pain, the kicks, the bruises and broken bones. The more she fought the harder he hit, and then in her teen years she just learned to stop fighting him, she gave in. She was alienated in High School as the girls never made friends with her, and she had mostly male friends as they shared the same interests in gaming and imported books or shows. But most of her male friends had also been gay, not that she would ever tell anyone. But her stepfather had chased them all way.

She wasn't sure even why, there wasn't anything worth it. What with her babby clothes, and the glasses she had worn in High School to help her reading, what in the hell was he even getting at. She felt his tongue flick against her, and the breath pass over. She bit back a whimper of fear, and it probably sounded like something else entirely. Her eyes closing as she tried her best to hide the way her body was going hot and cold in response to this. "Co-coy?" She asked softly, her eyes darting to the side now, her head turning and then stopping. Never look him in the eyes unless directed, that was the rule. She had to remember it.

She was going to respond but listened quietly, mouth slightly agape as the pain and anger built in her. Most of her friends had been gay, but the one she had a genuine interest in had been Tobi - Sarah's younger brother. She'd made friends with him pretty easily, they felt at home with each other. Her stepfather had lost her friends. She bit back a growl and then tucked her head down, blinking away her tears, and giving a visible shuddering from the feeling of his hands sliding across her. She felt dirty suddenly, so dirty, and didn't quite understand why. She knew what he was doing now, she had seen enough of it at school - read enough in books. He was coming on to her, he was trying to 'reward' her with...

Her mind shut down for a moment, eyes going completely blank and lips parting as a surprised sound left her the moment he brushed something rather obvious against her. The feeling of that, and the feeling of his hands touching her. She had to fight back the bile that rose in her throat. Hoping that choking sound he heard wouldn't piss him off more. She had no idea what in the hell to think of this entire thing, but a part of her was enraged that he was going to try to cross that line. "I'm really sorry, I'm not... I'm not comfortable with those sorts of things. You're married to my mother and... and... " she was trying hard to find a way to get him away from her. Then something sparked in her mind. "I'm really sorry, I was hiding it... I'm actually interested in females..."

She said that, knowing it would probably earn her a beating, and the pain - strange pain - arched through her, maybe a reaction she naturally had because Nathaniel had beaten her so many times for 'lying'. "I do-don't want to lead you on, I'm sorry... " Perhaps she could soften it? Maybe? Or would he think she was lying because she didn't want to upset her mother?

[GreenWolf]

Nate had no idea she was responding negatively, misreading those shudders and sounds for the pleasure of a man's hands against her body and he tried to let those hands circle towards her front and up, shoving up her shirt as he moved them towards cupping her handfuls of breast flesh.  That tongue lapped out again, against her ear, his teeth attempting to nibble against the edge.  His hips brought him more firmly against her, and as her shirt came up from her hands, she would find that his pants weren't tenting!  He'd taken himself outside of his clothing at some point and she hadn't noticed, though now her mind might pick out a musky scent that he'd be giving off as his hard cock had been released for the first time after a long day.  He moved his hips, dragging it against her rump, pushing up against the cleft between her cheeks, and then, her words reached his ears.  He was just suddenly gone, moved away from behind her with a "Don't you move, girl.  We ain't done talking."  He stood behind her, his hard member out to flop with his movements.

"Yeah?" He suddenly began ranting, "You call this a marriage, Aisling?  Where's your mom at then, huh?  I bust my ass day in and day out to provide for this family!  I do my share!  I live up to my responsibilities!  Where the fuck is she?!  You're more a wife t'me than she ever is, takin' care of the house, takin' care of your brothers, fuck, girl, I walked in and you had a beer out and started makin' me a sandwich!  You already taking care of me, now that you know how to.  And that's all this'd be, yeah?  Teachin' you one more thing to go with it.  Fuck, your mom'd rather drink herself to death than be here with her family?  Looks t'me like you'd be doing her a favor takin' this off'a her hands!  Takin' one for the team, yeah?"  He chugged his beer, staving off any sobering that may have begun, and heard her change tactics.

"A ... a fuckin' lez-bo, Aisling?!  That shit ain't right, girl!  You know it goes against the laws of God and Man!  Maybe it's my fault, maybe I should have taken you all to church more or somethin'."  He started for her again, but he didn't make it as close as before, "This ain't right, Aisling!  Now, more than ever, I'm seeing you need to know what a dick is before it's too late and you can't go back.  No man's gonna want a slutty muff-diver for a wife, and you're too good a wife now (If he does say so himself,) not to be one."  His eyes shifted towards the sink, "Eventually."  He grabbed the dishcloth from the sink, running the water to wet it a moment before taking it to his genitals for her.  Apparently, the scent had hit him too and he wanted her first time to be amazing, obviously.  He was standing in her line of sight, scrubbing himself like he was jerking off with the washcloth and making sure she had a good look.  It was an impressive piece of meat, something he was proud of.  To someone who'd never seen one, or compared it to others because that would be fuckin' gay, it seemed exceedingly large, but really, it was just slightly above average.

"I appreciate you wantin' to spare my feelin's, Aisling, but," and he chucked the cloth into the sink.  "Take hold of him.  C'mon, girl, use your hand and feel him, know what you'd be missing as a carpet muncher."  He was so confused and angry, really way to drunk to be talking to anyone.  He wanted to hit her, throw her against the counter and fuck the gay out of her, but he knew he needed to remain calm if he wanted to convince her.  It'd make this easier in the long run, as he wanted to teach her to be a good wife ... for him.  Fuck eventually. He had been so sure she wanted him, and why didn't he just take Sheila to begin with?  What was it about Aisling that made his dick so hard and his blood sing?  "Touch it, Aisling, before I lose my shit, and I'm gettin' really close to losin' my shit.  Feel it, rub on it, then get on your fucking knees and kiss him.  He's going to be your new best friend, Aisling, so you better wise up and make this a pleasant experience for yourself!"

[SweetSerenade]

The fear was building and she felt the bile in her throat, Aisling had to control her breathing and her reactions. She couldn't make him angry, she couldn't, she couldn't do that. She had to be careful, she couldn't make this any worse than it was - maybe distract him into hitting her, she shuddered again at the way his tongue lapped at her ear and it took every fiber of control inside of her to keep her from moving her head away from his mouth. To remove her ear from his reach, she felt the bile rising and had to swallow a few times to make it - oh gods that smell. She stopped what she was doing, unable to stop the single moment her nose wrinkled.

He was no longer boxing her in and she almost collapsed against the counter in relief. Sighing softly as he seemed to be - nope, now he was ranting. She shuddered and flinched for a moment at his raised voice. Turning her head to the side and averting her gaze to prevent any issues. "Mom is doing volunteer work at the clinic she does AA at, it's to work off the drunken disorderly she got last year." Aisling said in a low voice, knowing he wouldn't hear or care. She flinched visibly when he seemed to be getting angrier, shrinking back against the counter and trying to breathe enough to keep herself from getting light headed. "I do it because you told me I had to..." She whispered softly, like she wanted to do any of this? He'd beaten it into her for years.

She tucked her head down, wincing softly as he chugged the beer and mentioned her 'taking one for the team'. Taking one? How about hundreds, nay thousands! She had been hit so many times they all blurred into a kaleidoscope of abuse inisde of her mind. Fractured, splintered, twisting and twining mentalities. Her breath caught again as he finally reacted to her 'admission'. It was a lie, she knew it was a lie, lies hurt her the most. "I just... I never had an interest in boys, you chased them all off and I never got a chance to see what other girls saw..." She said and then flinched as she realized she had just accidentally made him to blame for her being a 'lesbian'.

He was now washing himself, and she was shaking a little as she was forced to watch the display. "We c-can't... do this Nathaniel, I'm not on birth control, remember? You told mom you wouldn't pay for it? An act against God? It would be too dangerous. I'm unwed..." She said, almost blathering now, as she was forced to stare in horror at what he was presenting to her with his washing. Her eyes darted up again, and then to the side as she shifted to the side on the counter, but it was stopped short as his tone changed. She stiffened, all of the blood draining from her face, she knew that tone - if he exploded...

She stepped forward, her actions almost mechanical as she reached over and wrapped her fingers around the hard length. She stroked as directed, but her head was turned to the side and tilted down so he couldn't see the tears gathering in her eyes. Maybe if she... If he... she could stop him from being inside of her. Maybe if she distracted him enough, perhaps in his refractory period - that's what books called it - she might be able to run away... She shuddered at that thought, swallowing the pain and bile that lumped into her throat. The tears threatening to fall, but refusing to. He mentioned her getting on her knees and kissing it, and she found herself dropping down.

Not because she wanted to, but because she was afraid of the pain that would come if she didn't. She was actually glad he had washed himself... because otherwise getting close would not have been an option. She leaned in, kissing the head of the - thing... thing was a good word for her mind - he was forcing her to touch. She couldn't relate it to anatomy, or she might not recover from this situation.

[GreenWolf]

Nate was livid, flushed face growing redder as he fumed and sputtered at the gall of this girl arguing with him. "Oh, grow up, Aisling!  She's been done her community service for months!  She's been using this as a cover story, an excuse to hide away and do whatever she wants!"  He moved like he wanted something to throw, wobbling around the kitchen in a manner that would likely keep her frozen, not wishing to run into a limb thrown out at random, let alone purposefully!  He was unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a body that had looked nice enough at one point in time, before age set in.  His balls hung beneath his wobbling cock, both dancing out through his open zipper as he somehow managed to stay upright.

She changed tactics again, setting him off and he moved in with lowered brow over squinting eyes, "Oh, so now it's my fault you're broken?!"  Right arm lifted over his left shoulder, preparing to swing, backhand her hard enough to toss her onto the counter from the look of it.  Nathaniel was entirely uncontrolled tonight, thrown into overdrive by his lust for this female, his rage at her audacity, and his shame at being rejected.  Worst of all, he knew, in his mind, that he was out of line and out of control, but though a part of him wanted to back away and go sober up, it was not the part of him in control.

He moved forward to swing, and she reached out to take a hold of him, feeling that smooth skin grown taut and hot with his blood pulsing through it, stroking his length to feel it grow firmer in her hands.  As she lowered to her knees, his arm fell to his side, staring down at her with a strange look of awe, as if he'd never expected her to actually go for it and fuck, but she was so gorgeous.  "Stroke it, like you want to," he added suddenly, in a petulant voice as he could see she didn't seem to be enjoying herself.  "If you don't get into it, you won't enjoy it."  He moved closer to her, reaching a hand down to fumble with her left tit through her shirt.  His arms weren't quite long enough, causing his fingers to rub in slipping grasps. 

When her lips pressed against the head of it, he lifted his head back to release a gust of breath, "Yeah, Aisling, more.  Use your lips and your tongue." This began the awkward directions as this man stood over her, forcing her to participate in her own personal hell.  He grabbed a hold of her head, rubbing that hot rod against her cheeks and jaw, making her feel it drag against her face before sticking it in front of her again.  As she tried to kiss it, or lick it, he pulled back, yanking it out of her reach and expecting her to chase it like she wanted it!  "C'mon, Aisling, get into it.  Open your mouth."  He shoved the head, so swollen and thick, through her partially open lips, forcing it into that warm, wet receptacle.  "Good little whore, suck on it!"  He whispered.

It wasn't enough, his cock forcing it's way deeper into her mouth, she was letting him do it out of fear, but he was convincing himself she wanted it and forcing her to take part.  He began to yank it away again, chuckling drunkenly as she chased after his throbbing cock opened mouthed!  If he noticed her tears, he didn't comment and it didn't stop him from suddenly gripping up her head to throat fuck her.  "Don't you ... worry, Aisling."  He was gasping, those sweet virgin lips wrapped around his cock, "I'm gonna ... teach you ... how to be ... a good little whore for me."  A cabinet door opened with a creak as he grabbed a cannister and set it on the counter with a clunk.  "And we ... won't be ... risking your virginity to do it."

He was so close to making her swallow his seed that he had to pull himself from her mouth, much as he didn't want to.  Panting, he spit out, "You'll swallow my cum soon enough."  But, apparently he had something else in mind.  How could he pass on that sweet ass of hers?  He manhandled her, brooking no argument as he grabbed her by the upper arm and hauled her bodily from that kneeling position, throwing her over the counter onto her stomach, none too gently.  Fingers clawed at her clothing to pull them free of that freshly washed ass.  His teeth bit into her left cheek, rubbing his face against the softness of her skin as his hand reached for the thing he'd retrieved.   It was Crisco.  "Don't worry,"  He grumbled in a voice dark and growling with pleasure, "You're still gonna be a virgin."

[SweetSerenade]

There wasn't much the woman could do, her mind was going into shut down - like it did when she was beaten. Everything was almost a blurr, as she did as was demanded of her. Licking, touching him just as he asked, fighting back her urge to vomit the entire time. It seemed like everything was going good, and she kept her eyes closed now to prevent him from seeing that she hated every moment of this. That burning ache was building in her, screaming as his fingers fumbled against her skin. She felt her skin crawl with anger and disgust, what this man had become was a monster - and he was trying to blame her for it? She who had taken so much abuse? She couldn't stand this.

Her thoughts were caught off after he forced himself into her mouth, and deeper till he was in her throat. Gagging on him and trying to push away, but being unable to as he manhandled her and forced himself deep in over and over again. Soon she lost the will to fight and was now surviving off of the will to live, as she struggled to find a way to breath around the gagging pain that was coursing through her throat and mouth. Stretched too far, pain too much. She yelped when he ripped her off, very confused as to what he was talking about.

Her eyes were burning green now, snapping acidic green fire as she struggled and pushed against him, but he was not going to be stopped it seemed. She was thrown over the counter, bucking back now as he forced himself further against her. She yelped, almost screamed at the way he was biting her ass. She bucked and twisted, but no matter how she fought it didn't stop him from pulling her clothes down. She saw the can now, and frowned at his words - then her eyes widened. She'd still be a virgin, and he grabbed something to...

"No! Not there! We can't, it's a sin!" She said, trying desperately to find anything to throw him off course. But she knew that nothing she did would work, and at this rate the destruction of her very being was at hand. "Nathaniel please... please... I'm so new to this... ca-can't you take it slower... I d-don't know ... what... " She stopped trying desperately to remember one of the novels she had read had said in these situations. One of those smutty romance novels, the heroine - a virgin - had said a line to the male taking her. "I'm not used to these things, or the pleasure my body can have... P-please be gentle with me..." she said finally as she gripped her hands on the counter.

She was panting, her cheeks flushed from the struggle, but she was trying to find something - anything that would make it stop. She wasn't sure how much longer she could resist this situation or what was going on. She needed to get away, and that was that - there was nothing else that mattered in that moment, but she needed him to - she needed him complacent in some way... distracted enough to make it where she could grab something to escape.

Aisling took a giant gulp of air, letting it rush out of her body as she went lax on the counter, her cheeks still flushed with anger. "Alright, as long as I'll still be a virgin." She said that softly, giving him a weak and watery smile. "It is a woman's place to bow to the head of the household, please Nathaniel - please show me what I've been missing." She said it sweet as sugar, though the intentions were not. Perhaps if she distracted him - and used his own belief system on him - it might make him a little kinder. Perhaps he'd get distracted enough with 'teaching her' that he would make a mistake and she could find something to hit him with.

[GreenWolf]

There was an inner glow to her freshly washed, pale skin, and in his drunken state, he just assumed it was her natural paleness shining in the kitchen's overhead lights.  He could finally admit to himself that he'd been waiting for this since she'd developed into a woman, and his hands moved over her body with hungry gropings of every inch of her, around her clothes, of course.  "Of course, Aisling.  I'll be gentle.  I want to show you how amazin' this can be."  His tone was ragged with his heavy breathing, overwhelmed with lust.  Fear of losing his hard-on had him fucking her thighs as her clothes kept them locked together at the knee.  Left hand reaching out to pull the plastic lid off that metal coffee can, he drug it close enough to use easily.  Hands leaving it for the moment to run over her cheeks and spread them apart with his caressing gropes, baring that small star of wrinkled flesh.

"I promise to be gentle, until you've become a better, I'm sorry, 'more experienced' little fucktoy for me."  Right hand held her cheek squeezed as the left dipped his finger into that thick mass, scooping out a dollop to press directly into that dry little opening.  He worked it in with small circles, pressure against the flesh, but not penetrating it, not yet.  His thumb lowered to thrum against her lower lips, such supple flesh so far untouched by another's hands, waiting for him, but that would have to be in the future, once her bitch mother was out of the way and he was sure of this one's blind devotion.  He let it sneak down further, working over her hooded clit as his middle finger smeared the fat into a softer, malleable gel against her.

Unfortunately, or fortunately in this case, he had not the skill, nor the sobriety to try and seduce her physically, as his finger began to find pressure was enough to gain entry and his thumb left her more sensitive bits alone as he worked that cooking grease into her tight, little hole.  It was a massage of sorts, from the very beginning, but a massage she would never have wished for from the man behind her.  He was dipping his finger in further, collecting more grease as needed to ensure her hole remained supple and relaxed, but brought it internal as well to work around the inner walls of that entrance.  Before he pushed the can further away, and out of the way, he smeared that goopy fat all over his cock, moaning as he felt the cold, slimy stuff coat his flesh like lotion that wouldn't ever rub in.

The can shoved away from him, he gripped her by her hips and pulled her towards him, as if to yank her off the counter.  He was just pulling her hips back, letting her legs dangle lower to line himself up with her backside.  He rubbed himself between her cheeks, that Crisco making for a smooth glide against her slicked flesh.  He'd rub against her, enjoying the feeling as he firmed back up and brought that swollen head to the greased mouth of her rump.  "Gentle."  He told himself, his pulse and breathing racing with the excitement of the moment.  He was going to cum almost immediately, he could tell.  It had been so long and she was so much sexier than her mother had ever been.  "Gentle.  Gentle for my good, little, girl."  He began to push himself into her, holding his cock with one hand, squeezing her cheek aside with the other.

It was everything he'd hoped it would be, and he was so focused on getting inside of her, as this required many small motions in and out to work himself in as slowly, and gently, as possible, that he wasn't paying any attention to what she was doing.

[SweetSerenade]

Aisling was completely unaware of the attraction that her form had brought, at least not on a level where she realized that her skin was glowing from it's paleness - not the fact that there was something more there. She hung her head down, letting her hands and head rest on the counter, her breathing shallow as she closed her eyes and fought back her urge to vomit. She could do this, she could let it get a little further, she could force herself to cope with it. She could force herself to deal with his disgusting hands, unclean hands, filthy pea-... that was a strange thought. Why was she about to think of her Stepfather as a filthy peasant... She shook her head again as she winced from the way he was groping.

"Thank you Nathaniel, I don't deserve such kindness." She said those words, they fell thick from her lips and tongue, the coating of bile on her tongue only started to feed a strange flame inside of her. Her eyes stared ahead, into the dining room, where her family would be eating not that long from now. She wondered what she could do to make this nowhere near as bad, she could feel his fingers plunging and teasing, the sensation of that disgusting substance smearing inside of her.

She could feel him feebly, barely, managing to try to pleasure her - and she bit back a small cry as she felt him rubbing against her all the more. She had to fight harder to hold back the anger, but her hands curled into claws on the counter as she realized he was yanking her back and lining up. She was already in pain from the stretching of his fingers, but now it was getting worse as he worked on forcing the head of his...disgusting worm... She hissed for a moment as the pain started to take her, and she lost her thread of control.

Instead of vomiting her hand reached out suddenly, quick as a snake as she grabbed a knife from the towel where it was trying with the rest of the dishes. She twisted her body suddenly, stabbing at his shoulder and just barely missing with the crook of neck and shoulder. She screamed in that moment, twisting herself to be seated on the counter and kicked him with both feet in his chest. "You're a MONSTER! You took my only friend from me, I hope you fucking die choking on your own blood!" She said, her voice cracking, tears jumping down her face. She pulled up her pants, the humiliation and pain evident in her face as she bolted from the kitchen, not caring anymore.

She ran for the door, grabbed her shoes, threw items from the closet to get her bag out. She looped it over her shoulders and ripped open the door, her hair half out of its bun, tumbling around her roughly - tears streaking her face. She ran faster than she had ever run before, fumbling for the keyring she had hidden in her backpack. She bolted to Sarah's Library, gasping softly as she found a stitch forming in her side from the running. But run she did, and hard at that. She came into the back door of the Library and ran up the back flight of steps to the second floor. Miss Sarah had given her a key to use if she ever needed somewhere to hide.

She slammed the door shut, knowing that Sarah would check up on her later. But now she was dealing with the pain as she slid down the floor near the door, after locking it and gripped herself around the knees as she rocked back against the wall.

She slammed her head back against the wall, the sobs barely stiffled by the fist she shoved into her mouth, and then after a particularly hard slam she felt something shift. She startled for a moment at that and whipped around, a panel slipped free revealing two books. One and old journal, the other a red book. She knew she shouldn't but she drew them out and gathered them in her lap. Perhaps losing herself in a fantasy world would help. So she opened the journal first and read it, it was Miss Sarah's from when she was sixteen, what a strange girl she had been. But it mentioned a strange adventure, and Aisling picked up the red book after reading everything in the journal.

"This is what... caused the adventure Sarah went on? And Toby... he was there too?" She murmured this as she opened the red bound book, reading voraciously and then snapping it shut. "I wish it was real..." She said soflty as she didn't even remember the words her father had taught her, to be careful what she wished for.

She drew in another breath... "I wish it was real... I wish it was real. I wish the Goblin King would come take me away from this awful place!" She sobbed out as she buried her face in her hands again, feeling the ache of her nearly violated body, feeling the strange disgusting nature of those hands that had hurt her in a new way. Her hands reached down, nails digging into her arms as she scratched herself under her sleeves, sobbing softly. "Gobling King, wherever you may be, take me away from this awful place!"

How she wished it was real.

[GreenWolf]

"What's this?"  In the darkened, throne room of the goblin king, a single candle ignited.  On the throne itself, a bundle of feathers shifted, unfolding as long limbs stretched out from where he'd been in a half-state of hibernation.  Legs brought high-booted feet to the cobblestone floor as the Autumnal Lord of the Labyrinth sat upright, suddenly awake and questioning the trill which had run through his weakened form.  "Tastes like ..."  Small bundles of darkness stirred and moved, shifted, becoming goblins, boggarts, brownies, redcaps, and in one spot, an ogre and a troll.  A cacophony of voices questioned their liege suddenly, to which, Jareth shouted, "Quiet!  Have we truly begun to fade so much as ..."  Whatever he was going to say faded.  The sparks of eyes, the glow of soft skin, so quick and then gone, but not that rage fueled strike.  "Wake up, boys," at which the female goblins grumbled dissent, but he ignored them.  "Wake up!  Don't you feel that?  A lost one has awakened, and what are we, if not the lords of lost things!"  The last was spit in disgust, knowing how far they'd fallen, he wouldn't even have the energy to sidestep into the human world.  Something would have to be done, however.  It wasn't like she'd call them over.  'Not after that bitch Sarah's ruinous ...' No, don't even think about it.  His cloak fluttered, a mass of owl feathers on oiled leather, as he stormed out of the throne room to find an alternative means of egress.

**********************************************************

A gurgling cry ripped from Nate's mouth as he fell back in pain, horror, and shock, crumpling to the floor with that kitchen knife having struck him true.  She's missed his shoulder, but she'd struck him, and he was trying to rip the thing out as she bolted over top of his prone form.  From his vantage point, he got to watch her struggle back into those clothes, his version of heaven hidden away and taken from him forever as she made her escape.  The door flung open, things tossed everywhere, and this drunken asshole had the nerve to scream that she was a bitch who needed to stop messing up their house!  Fucking kids thinking they could just do what they wanted.  She'd gotten his blood all over the kitchen floor, making a mess of all that work she'd done!  When she came home, he'd beat her within an inch of her life!  Except for the moment, he couldn't feel his hands to get up off the floor.

**********************************************************

"A book still exists," Jareth breathed out in shock, from his bed chambers where he was leaning over crates, sorting through stashed potions and trinkets.  "Someone is reading about us!  It has to be her!"  There were few, if any, coincidences in life, where Faerie was involved.  He could feel her experiencing his story for the first time, though ... no, it was wrong.  It was Sarah's story, but how could that be possible?  Her hands ran over that red binding and he felt it, felt her flip to skim the pages, taking him in in bits and pieces.  He had stood upright suddenly, limbs electrified with a sudden jolt of energy that ended with him releasing a barking laugh.  It wasn't much, couldn't be much considering how few knew of his existence, how few ever dreamed of them.  But ... maybe it would be enough.  And then, she spoke ...

The goblins were restless, excited, worked up from their so-long slumber with the idea that something big was happening!  When Aisling spoke the, "I wish ..."  They all heard it, this time.  "It's starting!"  "What's starting?"  "Shut up and listen!  We're being called!"  "This one's smarter than the last one, starting with 'I wish,'"  "Shut up and listen!"  "Three wishes he was real?  How real does she need him to b ..."  Jareth walked back into the throne room, full of a strength and vigor he hadn't held in ages.  "Quite real.  Three, is a magic number, Boglynn.  You should realize the potency of the favor she did me."  Time worked differently in Faerie and as Jareth's world had been in hibernation, they had all the time in the world to dissect her wishes.  Boglynn, a female goblin who'd just earned her way into a larger part of this fairy tale, chimed in with, "She is in Sarah's house.  That is an awful place, if you ask me."  Jareth kicked the closest goblin to him across the room, knocking Boglynn off the table she'd been perched upon.  "Time to fly."  His cloak did the work for him, with just the tiniest bit of juice, and Jareth was flying as an owl, right back to a very familiar house.

The grandfather clock was chiming, echoing, reverberating through the house.  Thirteen times, to be exact, leaving Sarah startled and hurrying for the library, from somewhere else in the house.  She wouldn't make it in time.  By the second chime, the bay windows were opening for an owl flapping his way into the room, and within seconds, it was a long, lean male with porcelain fair skin and white-blond hair, dressed in black leathers and doublet, thigh-high boots and an owl feather cloak.  Upon his brow rested a gleaming bone crown, a pair of long, two-point antlers rising up from his temples.  "Oh, I assure you, little lost one.  I am quite real."  The third chime.  He held out his hand to her, this one who'd requested him directly, instead of for another, so strange.  "Lost you were, and now found.  Luck-y you.  Hmmm?"  The fourth.  And then he paused, blue-gray eyes taking her in more carefully, her pain spoke to him.  In truth, it excited him a little, though he knew not the cause, specifically.  Just flashes.  By the sixth chime, his cloak was twirled from his shoulders by skillfully maneuvered hands and draped over her shoulders and back.

"Accept her soothing, child.  Those feathers must be given permission to ease your suffering."  Oh, it wouldn't take anything that had happened away, but the comfort would stop her trembling and balance her warmth.  Set her heart to rights for the moment, though the mental anguish would need to be dealt with eventually.  He held his hand out to her, one of his pointed ears catching sounds of someone hurrying closer,  "Do you still wish to face my Labyrinth?"  His words sounded slightly rushed.  He knew who was on her way and had no interest in seeing her again.  Suddenly, it struck him, "And bring the books."

[SweetSerenade]

Aisling was still crying, sobbing really even as she curled up with the books in her lap. She had felt a strong sense of calm just from touching them, but the pain would still not leave her. Then she heard the chime of the clock and she straightened. Sarah said it had been broken for years... The house rang with the sound of the chime. Her eyes widening as by the second one the doors were opened. She stared up in shock and wonder at the male that appeared before her. The owl shifting into the form of a lean male, pointed ears, pale skin, pale hair, she realized that he had come. The Goblin King was here, something in her sparked a reminder from her father.

Be careful what you wish for. There are powerful beings that will give you exactly what you ask for, just not the way you thought it. Her father's words whispered in her mind as she stared up at the man, no - Fae - nay Fae King. She took his hand, and pulled herself up off of the ground. By the third chime his words were echoing in her ears, and by the fourth the cloak was on her shoulders.

The cloak that was draped around her shoulders, had a faint scent of 'other', something she couldn't understand. But she relaxed into it at his words. She took the steps - shaking and slightly pained - between where she had been and where he was. His hand was warm to the touch, for someone like her as chilled as she was.

"You'll take me away?" She whispered, the books still clutched to her chest, she was getting ready to set them down - it wouldn't be fair to take Sarah's things. Though really, after what Aisling had read... she empathized with the male before her.

He had only really wanted one thing, to be loved - to be desired - that's all she wanted, was a home and someone to love her, to heal her - help her - guide her. She wanted to be loved, not tormented.

She drew in a sharp pained breath, but it was ebbing away slowly because of the cloak around her shoulders. She cupped his hand in both of hers and bowed her head, pressing her forehead to his hands. "Please, I don't ever want to return to this place - if I do he might beat me to death the next time... Please..." She whispered as she looked up at him, those acidic eyes flashing blue and green - tears still dancing in her eyes. "I'll face any challenge, just please - I'd rather be dead than in his hands again. Please, Gobling King..."

The woman was desperate to leave, and then the door rattled and shook as someone threw their weight against it. "Aisling, don't do this! I know it's you! Don't do this! You don't know what you are doing, what power you are giving! He's a monster! Don't listen!" Sarah's voice came from the other side, desperately trying to open the door while fumbling for the key that would open the door.

Ten chimes - Eleven...

[GreenWolf]

Jareth stood before her, listening to that string of pleases.  Please take me away.  Please, so human.  Were he another Fae, he may have taken her as his slave then and there, such begging to commit herself into his debt.  So much like the other one, who even now was just outside that door.  'Please, bring my brother back.'  "Careful with that word, Aisling."  Hands in thin, black leather gloves, raised as fingers curved in that supple material, bringing with them a crystal sphere, clear as glass.  It was hard to see if it spun or simply rolled as it traveled the length and breadth of his arms from elbows to fingertips."  If, I do indeed, grant your request, you would be in my debt for four of them spoken, so far.  From one, untapped, such as yourself, that is a sweet nectar for such a thirsty king.  Keep your pretty, little words of self-indenture and appreciation to yourself, in my ... No, in our world, for I can only grant you this respite once."

In the clear glass, she would be able to see her face, as it had looked to him, her mouth repeating that word, "Please," shown to her clearly, as he would not say it.  As it moved back, however, it was a different woman, younger than she.  Just a girl really, and familiar to her.  "Please," she mouthed as well, in this very room, years before.  Jareth watched Aisling closely, his stormy gaze looking for that spark of understanding as he crossed the room, calling out through the banging door.  "I warned you once, Sarah.  Don't defy me."  The dancing crystal leaped up to perch upon three of the now-upturned fingers on his right hand.  "I leave you a ... different, gift, than offered last time."  He placed the sphere on top of a table beside the door, spun swiftly, it would wait for her there to retrieve it.  He shouldn't have used what little magic he had for such vengeance, but whenever she viewed the lost chances and broken dreams within, the energy of her sorrows would return to him as sustenance, so if she looked, it would pan out well for him. 

Sarah's crystal spinning, awaiting her, Jareth turned and let go of the one who'd once come to him for her, freely given, brother.  Taking back the power he'd granted her, even accidentally, brought a renewed sense of new growth within him, powered by four pleases from a newly awakened Fae.  He couldn't say, 'You are safe now.' because she wasn't.  She would never be, as no one was, and Jareth could not lie.  He walked past Aisling, towards the open window, "Come, face the Labyrinth, make it to the Goblin City beyond it's meandering corridors, and win your reward."  As she would turn to allow her eyes to follow him, she would see it, stretched out beyond the frames and parted panes.  The sky was clouded, streaks and swirls of gray and white, broken up by the large, twisted castle in the distance.  The goblin city would surround it, but it was mostly hidden by the miles of twisting corridors lain out around the distant spires, all the once tanned masonry gone muted, gray and lifeless.

Three steps, that's all it would take her.  Three steps towards that distant finish line, the unknown goal.  Three steps, and she would discover the house no longer there.  Instead, they were standing on a hillside, overlooking the same maze.  Trees and scrub brush were blackened, twisted things, bare of leaves.  Cold, everything looked so cold.  There was a chill in the air, but the owl feather cloak kept her comfortable, and only slightly aware of the difference.  When her eyes fell upon Jareth again, he was standing silently and watching her.  He wore a new cloak, now.  Black, and high collared, he did not request the return of the one she wore.  Off to one side, behind him, stood a grandfather clock with thirteen hours on it's face.  The pendulum slowed to a stop, as it chimed the 13th time.  Sarah's clock had still been broken.  This was the one she'd been hearing.  "You shall have thirteen hours to solve my Labyrinth, Aisling.  If at any time, you wish to see the clock, simply look behind your left shoulder."

He didn't leave, at this point, though it had sounded an exit.  Instead, he simply held a hand out, swept towards the sprawling Labyrinth before her.  If she'd wished to speak more, he was there to do so, for the moment, but once she began walking towards the impossibly huge and intricate structure of puzzles, any glance back would find him gone.  She would, however, discover that as she moved, the ground she chose as her path, would react to her presence, that dull and lifeless color would brighten and awaken.  Little by little, her touch would awaken the Labyrinth and present her with her challenges, as soon as she was ready to begin.  With her first steps down the hill, the grandfather clock would begin to tick again, the sound fading as she moved further away from it.

[SweetSerenade]

Aisling watched him now, her strangeling eyes locked on his dual colored ones. Captivated for a moment by the blue and the brown of his eyes, her breath stolen. It took her only a single instant before she ripped her gaze away from him, years of trained instincts forcing her to look down when faced with someone of a 'higher position' than her. "I... I use it because he beat me if I did not." She whispered this, not even offering an apology, currently lost in the sensation of the cloak around her shoulders. The books held to her chest, her backpack still over one shoulder. She had supplies, the ones she had packed for running away. She had the books, the ones Sarah used to lock away this powerful Fae King.

She was confused though, him speaking of untapped. "Untapped? You mean my wishes? The power of my wishes?" She asked. It was obvious with those words that she had no clue that she was part of his world, that she was a creature of both worlds. She had not a single understanding of what she really was. Her lips pursed, confusion on her face as she looked down. Her eyes closing as she bowed her head, huddling under the loaned cloak. Her mind spinning with her father's stories. Nothing was ever free with the Fae, it was always paid for in one coin or another. "It will be my world when I earn my place. I will face your Labyrinth." She stated as her head slowly lifted, in her head she could hear another chime, and the breath rushed from her as she took the steps.

He barely had the words from his lips before she was taking the steps behind him. Looking over her shoulder as Sarah finally burst through. The last image Sarah would have is the look of betrayal and contempt on Aisling's face. A part of her hated Sarah, for seeing the years of abuse and never actually getting Aisling help. "Tell Toby... I'm sorry that my Step-father ruined our friendship." With that said the door snapped shut and Aisling looked ahead. Staring at the expense of the Labyrinth.

She just stood there taking it in, her eyes wide - her skin itching with a feeling she didn't understand. Her eyes misting for a moment as she let herself collapse to the ground - the cold seeping into her as she shivered and curled up, huddled under the borrowed cloak. "What is the price of the cloak?" She asked finally, looking up at the King that was standing above her - like a goliath of Fae power, and her a mere human prostate at his feet.

[GreenWolf]

Jareth watched her crumple down towards the ground, taking note of her inability to look up and her obvious fear, but he did not go to her, much as he considered it.  Coddling her would endear her to him, perhaps, but it would do her no favors when she faced the horrors of his Labyrinth.  The urge to do so anyway, was strong, and he folded his arms across his chest just to keep from crouching and reaching out for her.  It was a strange feeling, wanting to hold her and tell her everything would be okay, especially since it bordered on a falsehood.  Everything was yet to be decided upon.

Her questions reverberated through his mind, so many questions, and he'd continued forward without visiting them, because time was of the essence, but looking down at her now, he knew this would not work as it was going.  So much for tough love.  Jareth crouched in front of her and reached out a hand to place against her shoulder in a strangely distant fashion, as if, he wasn't exactly sure, or comfortable, with touching people, but was making a valid attempt for her sake and his concern for her.  "Let us see.  Widdershins then, shall we?  It'll make the most sense backwards, as so many things do."

"The cloak," He actually hadn't been planning to gift her with it, so much as let he wear it for the nonce, but it did look better on her than it did on him, so ... "It's value will depend on its usefulness to you in your endeavor.  Likewise, you have little you can offer now, as you are.  You are correct, that on succeeding in my Labyrinth, you can make a home here, and at that point, we shall revisit the cost of the cloak, if you are in agreeance with these terms.  Again, I caution you to be mindful of how you speak and what you say.  We are a land of myths and legends, fables from when there was no written words.  Your speech will be your downfall, should you not be more cautious with spoken words, as words are quite powerful.  Pens and swords, if you will, but in this case, tongues and swords."

His eyes were intense, and if she didn't respond to his hand resting companionably on her shoulder, his other used two fingers to lift her chin up to look upon him, making eye contact with his blue and brown eyes.  "And I did not mean wishes.  Your wishes are meaningless, without someone to grant them ..." The slightest of pauses, before he was forced to admit, "currently.  But that is neither here nor there, for the moment, as your true strengths will make themselves known as you require them.  You don't even know what they are yet, hence you are, 'untapped potential.'"  Technically, untapped because he's not making use of it, but then, he wasn't sure what there was to make use of, yet, so let her think it personal 'tapping.'

As he looked into her eyes, there was some sort of spark, like an electrical current, and he realized his two fingers were still on her chin.  "Aisling, I can promise you this.  Win or lose, you will never have to go back there, unless you so choose.  I can also promise you, that if you don't dig down and find some inner fire, you will lose."  Those two fingers slid along her jaw to stroke her cheek.  "You need to keep your chin up, eyes alert, ears open, and refuse to let this maze push you around.  This, is your trial by fire, a rite of passage, you will be running a literal gauntlet.  Do I make myself clear as crystal?  You need to be ready.  If you fail the Labyrinth, it doesn't mean you'll be turned away."  A cryptic warning, or straightforward telling her she could be trapped within, to become just another moppet the next 'adventurer' would wander into?

"Let me be carry some of your burden, Aisling.  Can you trust in me with these tales of woe?  Perhaps in the telling, you can rid yourself of these wretchedly skewed views and mis-taught lessons.  Find the young girl who believed in Faeries and Unicorns, knew Fables were reality, and that the Goblin King is quite, quite real, and not just a thrice wished hallucination for a troubled young lady."  His words were a blend of warmth and cold, seeking to support her without overly carrying her.  He wanted to do more, and would, as she needed him, but in this world.  "Sometimes, the Damsel is better at saving herself than the Knight.  Release your burden now, before you run headlong into danger, that you may walk straight forward and stop looking back."

[SweetSerenade]

Aisling was quiet as she stayed slumped, her body aching and her mind spinning with everything inside of her. She felt his words echo through her as she took in a long breath. She wanted to look up at him, but she didn't she resisted. She bit her lip, and then shuddered as he spoke to her, her hands pulling the cloak tighter around her at the mere mention of the object he had wrapped around her. Her breathing evening out as she closed her eyes and tried to forget what had happened to her before. "I accept the terms of the cloak, we will discuss it's worth and what I am willing to trade - when I have worth of which to repay it with." She said finally, carefully selecting her words, and slowly remembering some of the things her father had taught her when she was young.

She flinched, visibly when his hand rested on her, her breath taken in sharply as she tried to still her breathing - she was forced to look up at him and he would see the fear in those depths, if he made the choice to acknowledge it. The fear was what was binding her to the past of her horrors, and it was something she would have to release in order to seek her freedom. She remained still as the snow freshly fallen, as he spoke to her about her wishes. Her teeth catching her lip as she stared up at him. She looked less a grown woman - and more a scared young teen, in that moment. But she was young, especially in the eyes of someone so old. "I understand, I will try to be more careful." She whispered to him as she tried so hard to not let the pounding of her heart distract her.

Something about the touch of those two fingers under her chin, forcing her to stare into those blue and brown eyes. "Win or Lose, I would never wish to return to there." She said softly, her words picked from what he himself had spoken. Her eyes had settled now into a more acidic green tone, obviously non-human in nature - too bright to be real, but likely familiar to him if he dug into his memories. It might niggle at him for awhile, where those eyes might seem familiar. "I have to fight. That's what I'm doing, I'm fighting for my freedom." She said softly as she gripped her hands on the fabric of her shorts, her eyes closing as she drew in a long breath and then slowly exhaled. "My father told me the greatest enemy we have is ourselves and the trials we place upon ourselves. No outside force can compare to the trials within."

Her eyes closed as she slowly turned her head from his, she could give him her words - she could give him her story. Her father had told her, before his death, that she was brilliant at weaving stories. "Once there was a man and a woman, they loved each other dearly - but found trouble from the man's family. After much trials and pain, they were able to be together for their lives - at the cost of the man losing his birth family. They despised the woman he had chosen, and refused to allow him to marry a woman of common blood." She said this softly, shaking her head a little as she remembered the story her father had helped her create when she was young.

"They married, and had many years of happiness, and eventually they gave birth to a darling little girl. With eyes as bright as spring grass, and hair as flaming bright as the petals of a pale red rose. The child grew, curious and bright, and the father told her stories of the things outside of human understanding. He wove her tales of fantasy and follies, of a King in a Labyrinth - " She stopped her eyes widening for a moment as she looked back up at him. Her father had told her tales about Jareth, and she had only now remembered. "He told her stories, wove her a world of fantasy, where she was loved and protected. But that life was not long to last, as the man lost his life to an accident. The woman and their child were thrown into despair. After a few years the woman married another man, and in the beginning, things were happy."

She flinched, rather visibly as her hand went to her side and she pulled up the shirt enough to show the bruise on her ribs. "But happiness is ever fleeting for the girl of green and red... as she grew the stepfather and her mother created a pair of twins, of which the girl was responsible for. Her mother drunk constantly, stepfather just as much. Her mother could not get over her first husband, but she needed a life for her daughter a support.. so thus she married and had more children with the man she married. Things were mostly yelling, screaming, and verbal abuse... the girl was beaten for not saying 'please' and 'thank you'.... but it was what her father had taught her. Her father had taught her those words had power, and that she wasn't supposed to say them. They were special words and should only be used in severe circumstances..." She shook as she said that, her head shaking back and forth as she hissed between her teeth.

"The beatings only got worse as she got older, broken bones, bruised skin... torn flesh... all just common place for her. Cinderella of the new age, you might say. Her only respite was a library she was allowed to run to after all her work for the day was done. She was not allowed friends or a job that her stepfather could not control, and she could not even seek higher learning. The man, her Stepfather, changed as she got older - apparently, he came to have certain... thoughts towards her that she was unaware of... until one day, after a long day of cleaning the house and taking care of everything for the children...." Aisling stopped, her voice choking as she gripped her shorts, her head falling back completely so she could look up at the sky, a hiccup coming from her lips as she tried to bite back a sob.

"One day he forced her... forced her... to do what a wife is supposed to for her husband. He would not violate her innocence and was instead intent on taking another part of her, after violating a part of her that he had thought was too rebellious already. So the woman... no longer a girl, grabbed a knife - as he forced his entry to a place no one but her future love should touch... and stabbed the nasty stepfather before running away..." She stopped, shaking now her shoulders slumping as she gripped her arms around her torso, nails digging into her arms and drawing spots of blood as she shook.

"That... that is what made me make the wish... to be taken by you. I have nothing there, nothing at all that will keep me there. Everything precious to me is inside of the satchel on my back, I have money -useless here unless someone wants to collect the coins... but I do have food and drink... because I thought I was going to need it when I ran away, and I was right... because...When within a Fairy place... you shall not partake of fairy fair... or you shall not dwell no otherwhere... The only coin of trade that has value here is... ah... father... told me... in the stories.. the stories told spoke of physical intimacy like kisses and hugs... blood... like giving a drop of blood to the hungry plant in that one movie... or magic... which I do not have." She stopped speaking now, and just looked up at Jareth, wondering if her story was enough of a tale for him - she looked towards the Labyrinth and sighed. She would be traveling that soon.

"My fire was taken from me, beaten and abused for years...Nine years of harsh abuse, my father has been dead for almost 19 years. He died when I was about seven..."

[GreenWolf]

He had listened to her intently, eyes focused under a brow wrinkled in concentration.  He wasn't surprised when her story came out like a fairy tale, expecting such after he waxed poetic so, but even he could feel the strength of her story as she spun it, turning her tragedies into tales.  He was too weak to know exactly how it was affecting her, or even if, but he could feel the raw energy of it building like clouds gathering for a storm.  He didn't interrupt her, waiting until she was finished and using that hand brushing her cheek to gather away her tears.  'What fools these mortals be,' 'ey Puck?  Tales of horror were common place for his kind, and some, such as the redcaps, even deserved the fear they'd earned, but nothing could compare with a human's ability to hate what was beautiful and pure.

Jareth shook his head, "No, Sweetling.  Your father, your real father?  He was something special, I'm sure of it.  His little green and red girl has more fire inside her than she'll ever know what to do with, but it's still smoldering.  You just need to stoke the flames, Aisling.  Bring that fire blazing again.  As horrible as the experience was for you, as long as it was, it's over now.  You brandished your sword and defeated him.  All those years of him tormenting you, you've taken your power back this evening already, you simply have to claim it, and let your memories of it fade."  He lifted the hand that was on her shoulder, using it to brush her hair back from her face.  Pair of long, agile fingers continued to stroke her face.  "Instead, focus on before.  Remember your father, Aisling.  Draw your strength from him, because no matter what they've said, his family cannot rob you of your birthright."

Her eyes were so familiar, he was convinced he knew her family.  He couldn't place which family, and it made matters more difficult that she could be from either of the great Courts, let alone any number of lesser nobility.  She was noble, he was sure of it, a diamond hidden away, discovered suddenly.  He was guessing, by the brightness and hue of her eyes, that she could be of the summer court, though her vibrant hair, while it could really be either, with the more unnatural, darker hue, spoke more of winter to him.  Again, any number of royals, but ... those eyes.  He knew those eyes.  He was sure of it.

The words her father told her, the lessons he tried to share, they would come in handy and most of them were even familiar to him.  The Sidhe had not lived thousands of years by being reckless and stupid, and in that time there were plenty of life lessons to be passed down and shared among families.  He knew the one about the greatest enemy was a common one, used to prepare young Fae for the beginnings of Court intrigues, but the stories about him and his Labyrinth?  That was far too specific a tale and much more personal.  He didn't want to hold up the start of her quest, but he felt like this was somehow helping her prepare, and he was enjoying the gentle touching of her sweet face.

"What do you remember of his tales of my kingdom, Aisling.  Try to remember.  Be thorough, so that I can let you know how true those lessons are before you journey inside and they become either a lifeline for you or a noose to hang yourself with."