Caelia's Tale

Sarah assumed her new identity as though it were a cloak to hide beneath.



She was so used to playing parts and living out roles that were not real in movies and on TV, the easiest way to deal with this new way of life was to pretend it was an acting part. She was playing Caelia, the beautiful raven-haired concubine to the King of the Trolls. Caelia who was snatched away in the night from her life in the mortal world to play as sexual slave to a cruel and demanding monarch.



It was easier that way. It didn’t seem real.



After Sarah was given her knew name, she expected Goroth to immediately begin the assault, but he was much more mindful than that. Instead he returned to his throne, leaving her kneeling and naked on the floor and recited to her for what seemed like hours the many legalities and rules that applied to their arrangement.



He read aloud from parchment and spoke in a careful, formal drawl about the agreements they had both made, about how her mortal life was over and her rights, whatever they had once been, were now governed by him.



He spoke of Fae royalty and their right to slaves, their right to claim mortal beings as property because of old deeds of payment for wishes granted and services provided. He spoke of the old times when the Fae were respected and acknowledged by mortal folk and how now it was the rights of the Underground monarchy to claim what was theirs. He spoke of the superiority of the Fae, their grace and humility, their spiritual wealth and their absolute pureness.



He spoke also, something that broke Sarah from a dragging reverie, of promises and how he now legally declared to keep a watchful and compassionate eye over the wellbeing of Legacy Chamberlain-Jones for as long as he owned her mother. Sarah was going to interrupt and ask if it were true and if he really meant to watch over her child, but his rambling went on and on in such a persuasive way, Sarah believed him, despite herself.



She didn’t want to, but his emotion in describing how the Fae keep to their word and never break sacred rules or promises stirred something in her. She still hated him deep inside, but she was glad to know that it was of equal importance to him to keep his side of the bargain.



Then the reciting became tedious again as he spoke of poverty, trading, property and other things that eventually began to blur into one long droning noise.



Then he was done talking and he told her he was going to call back for the guard and she was to be returned to her cell. She wanted him to ask her if she had any questions, but he didn’t. Strangely, he seemed tired and sort of dismissive. Relieved though she was that she had not been put through anything physical yet, Sarah was confused as to his change in demeanour. Still, she returned peacefully, keeping her hands behind her back and her eyes down as she had been told to during his speech.



His rhetoric had consisted of a lot of rules and ideals for her to live by and she hoped for her sake she would be able to remember them all. There was so many, Sarah couldn’t help but wonder if that were so the chance to discipline her would be a lot more possible.



He expected her to behave as an object basically, bodily available for rape or other forced sexual contact at any time, naked constantly, meek, submissive and brainwashed.



Had there occurred an idea of how she could escape or avoid this treatment, Sarah might have found the energy to be a little more retaliatory.



She spent the rest of that first day in her cell, sat on her haystack-bed thinking through it all, right from ten years ago.



*



Half of the next day was spent in the same place, doing the same thing.



She remembered when a strange pain aroused her stomach that she had not eaten or drunk a single thing since she arrived. She had spent two nights here and not consumed a thing! When the guard next patrolled the prison and walked past her cell bars, she asked him when they might eat and he replied that she would be given food later on, if she behaved.



Then came the second summons from the King.



She hadn’t eaten, but she could hardly argue. Dropping her eyes to the floor again, hands behind her back, she was returned to the throne room. She couldn’t help but thinking of eating. That one gurgle from her stomach had reminded her of hungry she really was and now it was making noises constantly. She thought back to her Father’s homemade chicken soup… Oh, how she could devour a whole pot of that now with some warmed, crusty bread.



Her mind dizzied and body weak; she got to her knees before the Troll King and bowed her head.



‘Learning already, are we not?’ he mused, looking up from a roll of parchment he had been perusing.



‘Yes Master,’ she replied, hearing the lack of energy in her own voice.



‘What is the matter? You sound different,’



‘Forgive me Master, but I’ve not eaten or drunk anything since arriving here. I am feeling weak,’



Goroth rolled the parchment up and dropped it to the side of this throne. He leant forward; a thoughtful gloved finger on his chin and Sarah tried to navigate his silence.



‘You would like some food?’ he asked, sounding surprised.



‘If that’s possible. I should be much more entertaining if I have energy,’ she replied, hearing the slight laugh her words elicited.



‘Well, we shall see about that in a while,’ he snapped his fingers lightly and she looked up to meet his eyes. Whenever he snapped his fingers, Sarah was meant to face him and she was glad she had remembered that one.



‘Come here,’ he said.



Sarah had been dreading this. She slowly climbed to her feet, her arms still behind her back and she made her way lightly up the few stones steps that lead up Goroth’s throne. About a foot away from him, she lowered her head again, not sure whether she was supposed to keep it raised or down but thinking that lowered seemed infinitely more respectful. She had made the right choice it seemed, because he didn’t react badly, instead he reached forward and grabbed her hand with one of his and pulled her closer.



When she was standing directly in front of him, Sarah became acutely aware of her nudity. She hadn’t minded the troll lady helping her in the tub the other day as she was at least female and had obviously seen all of this many times before.



She desperately fought the urge to cover herself, fought so hard that her hands began to tremble and then eventually, her efforts failed her and her hand left his so she could cover her breasts and private areas.



He didn’t speak at first, the silence ensuing being thick and deadly.



‘I’m sorry,’ she said, a statement that came out more strangled and emotional than she imagined.



‘As well you should be, uncover yourself at once,’ he commanded, quietly rather than shouting, which made him seem as deadly as a coiled, poisonous snake slithering through tall grasses.



‘I can’t!’ she cried, ‘I can’t do this!’



Her mind had slipped into panic mode again and how, she had no idea. Everything had been thrumming along consistently and she had thought she could handle it. It’s only a role you’re playing Sarah, she told herself, even the words in her head sounding terrified, this is only a role, it isn’t real.



But it was real and it became more so as her captor stood and grabbed her roughly about her upper arms, shaking her.



‘Help me!’ she sobbed, tears flooding down her face, hot and salty.



‘Shut up at once, you little fool! Be quiet immediately!’



Sarah cried out as he shook her and then it came, the first time he hit her. With a whack, her face was slammed to one side and her cheek glowed aflame. But it had worked in silencing her. She closed her eyes when he used two of his fingers to turn her face back to him. He hadn’t just slapped her, he had used his fist and a trickle of blood ran crimson from her nose.



‘What is your name?’ he hissed.



‘Caelia,’ she whispered, the tears still falling.



‘And what are you for?’



‘To please you, Master,’ Sarah said, trying to sound as though she meant it.



‘And now I will punish you for your first transgression,’ he let go of her and stepped down the stairs from the throne, heading across the room.



Now he will punish me, she thought, what does he mean now? What was that punch for? Just to get her attention? Biting her quivering bottom lip, she watched him touch his palm to a panel on the far wall and then step back. The air began to shimmer and shift with magic and then the wall transformed itself into a most peculiar display. Copper bars appeared, jutting out from the wall, ropes and floggers, a myriad of ways to punish or restrain someone all on one wall.



‘Get over here now,’ he pointed at the floor in front of him and Sarah moved quickly, her cheekbone still aching from his fist. It was a wonder he hadn’t knocked her out cold, she had never in her life been hit with so much force.



He had her face forward and then he bound her wrists to two curved copper bars and then he stood behind her. She closed her eyes when his palms landed hot on her buttocks, digging his fingers into her flesh and then smoothing over. He held himself behind her as though they were about to copulate, pressing his groin to hers, pressing just so much that she could feel the hardness in his breeches nestling uncomfortably against somewhere very private and yet also exposed.



‘You have disappointed me Caelia, I thought you would have been brighter than this. You seemed intelligent to me, but you have proven yourself to be weak and disobedient. I have no other option but to punish you. If you know what’s good for you, you will thank me each time I do,’ he drawled.



Sarah kept her eyes closed, figuring it might be easier that way, but then he slapped her hard on the bottom, so hard that her eyes shot open and she cried out again.



‘Thank you… Master…’ she said.



And so it went on.



He slapped, spanked and hit her until Sarah lost control of time and her replies were completely autopilot. She forgot what she was saying, yet the words sounded exactly the same each time he hit her. She cried herself raw, cried until her eyes grew red and swollen and until she promised herself she would never lose control or misbehave again. She would not let this happen again. It was humiliating enough being naked before this creature of a man, but to be punished like this was a whole new type of degradation.



Which, she supposed, was the point of this.



After he had finished, he freed her of her restraints and stood aside to watch her gather her senses, his eyes shimmering with personal victory. Sarah’s backside hurt so much she thought he might have damaged her back in some way, but after a few moments when the blood began to flow properly again, she stood upright and faced him.



‘Have we learned our lesson, Caelia?’ he asked, coldly.



‘Yes Master,’ she nodded, her face dry with old tears.



‘Then we shall try again tomorrow,’ he said and then dismissed her with a wave of his hand.



She looked at him for a moment longer, wondering what might come of her request for food, but then she realised she had lost her opportunity.



Tomorrow it would have to be.



*



The next day, Sarah had still not been fed or watered. Her stomach had begun to concave and her lips and tongue were dried out and grey. Gaarn, the guard who watched the prison, summoned her a little after dawn, when the sky was still soft and pink. He ignored her begs for sustenance and instead told her it was time to see the King again. The groaning in her stomach was replaced with a gnawing fear.



In the throne room, Goroth sat with a table to his side stocked with lush food and drink. Sarah sank to her knees shakily, but she had caught the scent of freshly baked bread on her way in and her stomach gurgled loudly, making her entry a little noisier than she would have wanted. He clicked his fingers and she looked up to him, her focus a little hazy.



He turned to look at the table of food by his side and selected a crisp, red apple. He bit into it and the sound almost tore Sarah in two, red apples were her favourite fruit.



He knew exactly what he was doing.



‘Come here, Caelia,’ he instructed. She did so immediately, her resolve broken and the will to survive presiding.



She climbed those few steps and came to stand before him. This time, the urge to cover her body did not even occur; as her eyes danced between the mounds of breads, fine cheeses, decanters of wine, fruits and meats and her sadistic captor. She knew what to do though and fixed her eyes on his, reaching out her hand that he might take it.



Her eyes softened and she attempted a weak, but alluring smile.



He grabbed her tiny hand, pulling her roughly into his lap, where he handed her the apple. She bit into it feverishly and he laughed, though his amusement was but a distant echo, his hand heavy in her hair.



*



After the apple was devoured, plus two large slices of bread with cheeses and cured ham, Goroth pulled her even further back on his lap, where as she chewed and let her body absorb the sweet fullness and nutrition, his hands began to wander. One slipped between her pale thighs, finding her sex and the other found a breast, cupping it and teasing the soft, pink nipple.



Sarah was numb and focused on her food but she knew she had to reciprocate.



She finished her food and then turned her face to his, kissing him fervently.



Her body responded to his touches, even though her mind was a million miles away. Somewhere warm, somewhere comfortable, somewhere that was anywhere but here. She closed her eyes and let her tongue greet his for the first time, knowing that it would greet many more times from now on.



She may as well get accustomed with how to keep him happy. It would be the key to her survival and she knew that now.



She kissed him harder, tilting her hips on his groin, rubbing against that hardness she had felt the day before. He groaned, closing his eyes and began to turn her on his lap, his hands firm and aggressive on her. There was some fumbling and then with a few shifts he was inside her. Sarah knew she wasn’t wet and it would hurt, but rather this than…



He whispered words of filth to her, trying to make them sound eloquent. Telling her what a delightful, debauched slut she was and a worthy slave… worthy of breaking… how sweet her body was, how ripe her breasts were, how tight her sex was… Sarah thrusted down onto him, her thighs tight against his hips, her breasts in his face, the nipple closest to him sucked and soft, instead of hardened with arousal.



The air between them grew hotter and then he was grasping at her, his teeth hard on her shoulder. A few more thrusts and he was finished. He cried into her, tilted her backwards on his lap with the force of his orgasm.



‘Good girl,’ he whispered into her hair, palming it.



‘Thank you Master,’ Sarah panted, eyeing the grapes on the table beside them.



‘Now get back to your cell, I have work to do,’



He shoved her off and turned away from her, one hand doing up his breeches and the other grasping for a roll of parchment.



The crow in the cage above him screeched and flapped its wings.



Sarah stood and bowed her head, before leaving.



*



And so the first few weeks span out. Long minutes stretched into hours and then days slipped though her fingers like water.



Sarah began to be fed occasionally, but not too often as to where she could grow accustomed to being full. She was kept thin, bathed frequently and beaten consistently. She had thought it would be easy to escape beatings or punishments with good behaviour, but it seemed that Goroth looked for reasons to tie her up, spank, whip or just pummel her with his fists. He took great pleasure in harming her, it seemed to arouse and excite him even more than her body or submission did.



The sex was consistent too. After the first time in the throne room, he expected it at least once a day, but usually three of four times. He rarely looked her in the eye as she served her purpose, unless he was mad and wanted her attention when he was shouting at her.



Mostly, he liked to take her from behind after beating her backside, when she was still tied up. Other times he preferred her to fellate him whilst he did his work with the scrolls, reading them mostly. She hated this task the most.



The times Sarah looked forward to were the times she was in the bathing room, when she could soak up to her shoulders in perfumed water, soothing every ache. The chatter of the other slaves gave her enough distance in the world to lose herself in imagination, where she could act, sing, hold her baby or curl up in a proper bed. She would soap her arms and legs over and over, smiling to herself in silence.



Goroth made it clear at first that he had a new toy to play with, his enthusiasm obvious to everyone. The other slaves were nice to her mostly, because she was taking the heat they were used to getting, but on the whole they kept away from her. The only real company she had was with Goroth and though she resented their time together, she did enjoy the brief conversation she was sometimes permitted.



A few weeks span into a month and then two months and soon Sarah began to notice the time she spent with the Troll King was reducing somewhat, perhaps just a day here and there, but it proved to be noticeable. Sarah wondered what she was doing wrong, why had his attention strayed? It worried her subtly, creeping around the corners of her mind, now she did not spend as much time with him, had she gone down in his estimations?



He would sometimes ask for one of the other girls to come to him, eventually beginning to alternate all of them depending on the day.



‘It always happens,’ said Esme, one of the girls during bathing time one afternoon.



‘Yes, it always happens. A new girl comes and his majesty ravishes her for weeks giving the rest of us a break and then he gets bored again. Then we all share the duty until the next poor girl gets here,’ added Delphine, running a soapy sponge from her knee to her ankle.



Sarah listened, nodding. She didn’t mind not being his majesty’s favourite, in fact it was a blessing she had hoped for but thought would never happen. But still, that worry lingered…



‘Yes and other stuff happens when a new girl comes!’ snorted the nursemaid, who was pouring a jug of violet scented water over one of the older, more haggard looking girls.



‘Shush nurse,’ hissed Ellette, frowning.



‘What do you mean? What is it?’ Sarah sat up in her bath, wafts of steam rising from her back and shoulders.



‘Oh, she might as well know by now,’ Esme rolled her eyes and turned to face Sarah, ‘When a new girl comes, an old or disfavoured one has to go,’ she said, simply.



‘Go?’ Sarah asked, her chest growing cold with dread.



Esme dragged a finger across her throat with the customary slicing sound, her smile wicked and eyes wild.



‘We get… killed?’



‘Yes, that’s right,’ Nixie nodded, though she appeared much more serious than Esme, who was tittering to herself and splashing in her tub like a mad woman.



‘That was not part of my agreement with him,’ Sarah said sternly.



All the girls looked at her at once and laughed out loud, as though she’d said the most ridiculous thing, shrieking and splashing their bathwater, their eyes rolling.



Sarah knew why they were laughing. They knew just as she did that there was no justice here.



No justice and no escape.









Author's Note - in polite reference to my one review so far, as an added disclaimer, Caelia's Tale is in no way referencing John Norman or his work. I had never heard of him until that review and had no idea my story could be misconstrued as some sort of crossover.