AN: MOAR SMUT. Final warning.

The Release…

He discarded the crop and knelt, his hands skimming down her body. He pressed his open mouth to her upper thigh, biting just hard enough to leave mark. Another flag on the map of where he'd been.

His tongue found her clit, flicking lightly before he sucked on it as he had her breasts. Sarah's head hit the wall again, this time hard enough to sting. Two long fingers teased and spread her wet folds, forging a slow circle before pressing within her deeply. Her muscles tightened around him instinctively and somewhere in the haze of her pleasure she registered the gratifying sound of him swearing. The heady combination of his mouth on her clit and his fingers inexorably fucking her, made her thrash against the restraints again. She wasn't sure if she wanted to push him away or force his mouth deeper. She only half cared that were she to actually take stock of her situation, she was in fact quite naked, bound to the throne room wall, and being expertly fingered and sucked by the Goblin King at her feet.

"Oh god," she moaned when he hooked a finger within her just right, his tongue still working magic.

"No gods here, Sarah. Only a Goblin King," he admonished against her skin.

"Shut up," she keened brokenly. "Don't stop." She decided she liked him a lot better when he wasn't speaking.

She felt the smile, the rumble of his voice lighting a new fire against her nerves. "As the Champion commands." His tongue curled and then rolled against her swollen bud. His fingers pumped faster until Sarah could feel the first taste of sweet release just out of reach. She'd never managed to come this way before with anyone – not even with those she'd loved and trusted. And she certainly didn't trust the figure at her feet. She gasped for breath, her inability to control the events making it all the more intense.

Feeling her just on the edge, Jareth pulled back enough to see her face, his mouth releasing her and fingers, still buried inside her, pausing.

"Wha-" she looked down incredulously.

"As the Champion commands, now she begs. Beg me, Sarah." The bastard managed to look powerful even on his knees, lips glistening with the evidence of her desire.

Her body thrummed, heightened to such a fever pitch she wondered if he could hear her vibrating. "Jareth-"

"Yes… just like that Sarah." His fingers slid in and out again slowly. "Say your right words."

She had every noble intention of telling him to fuck right off, but then he blew against her clit, his fingers curling again, and she felt her resolve crumble faster than Goblin craftsmanship.

Her no turned into an undeniable wail of please.

The sting of his victory was nothing to the culmination of her release against his mouth and fingers. He didn't pause to gloat – they'd both heard her beg – he just worked her with those expert hands and that smug, sarcastic, entirely fuckable mouth. Even as she came completely undone, the bindings on the wall vanished and she slid down, boneless, right into his arms. He swung her up easily and within a few strides had her settled on his lap in the throne.

Taking a moment to regain her senses, she pressed her hands against his chest, sitting back enough to look at him. His eyes were hooded. Victorious but also filled with something else entirely. Something far more powerful. He was still achingly hard beneath her.

She leaned in and kissed him softly because he deserved that.

She bit him because he deserved that too.

His heart was beating wildly beneath her palm. He didn't stop her when she smoothed the hand down his chest, able to touch him finally. His skin was soft as feathers, but firm and unyieldingly lithe.

Eyes still on his face, she wasted no time in freeing his erection from his pants. She stroked his velvety length in her fist and smiled when his jaw tightened.

He gripped her wrist a moment later. "I won't last, Sarah."

A rare admonition of weakness.

He'd been teasing her, but had brought himself to the brink as well. Maneuvering herself forward, she swung astride him, thankful for the wideness of the throne. The stone bit into her knees and shins but she didn't care. Hitching herself upwards, she reached between them and stroked the tip against her slick folds, just as he'd done with the crop.

The Goblin King's expression completely fractured.

"Beg me, Jareth," she whispered, before sliding down his length without hesitation. Still slick from her orgasm, she seated him to the hilt. He gasped, his mismatched eyes rolling closed at the sheer sensation as his hands landed heavily on her hips. Taking a moment to adjust, she rocked up and down in a long, slow stroke, rolling her hips as she sank back down. His fingers bit into her skin. She increased the pace, relishing the feeling of being so completely filled – the sound of their bodies colliding. Her breasts bounced with each thrust. His eyes slid open to watch them appreciatively and then rose to her face, almost reverently. Closing her own, she palmed her breasts and pressed them to his mouth. He drew a peak into his mouth hungrily as she set the pace anew.

Her eyes shot open when she felt the sudden shock of cold liquid run down her chest and pool between them. The Goblin King had tipped the bottle of champagne over her breasts, the bubbles tingling as they ran in rivulets across her raw skin. He chased the droplets with his tongue, in long slow licks, those uneven teeth grazing ever so slightly.

She could see the strain in his neck, feel it in his thighs, but his hand slid between them to finger her over sensitive clit again. Sarah gripped the arched back of the throne on either side his head for leverage, as her own movements became less deliberate and more frenzied. Her channel clenched around him and he swore in response, his other hand cupping her ass possessively. She'd find bruises there tomorrow. When he needed more both hands slid back to her waist, half lifting and seating her with each thrust.

For my will is as strong as yours…

She forced herself to pause on an upward stroke, hands white knuckling the throne to hold herself aloft.

"Beg me, Jareth." Her voice was little more than a growl but it resonated in the throne room.

He drew a hand up, long fingers gently cupping her neck, eyes earnest and entirely inhuman. "I have always been your slave, Sarah."

She slid down hard, relishing his almost pained hiss. She offered one of his own when he hit her cervix. He bucked beneath her, his mouth and hands everywhere. She tasted herself and the champagne on the deep stroke of his tongue. Her nails scraped against the stone of the throne, as though desperate to anchor herself. His body coiled suddenly, his teeth against her breast and hands curled around her thighs as he held her down on his release.

Panting against her chest, he quickly slid his hand between them and stroked her until she followed again a few moments later. He groaned as she gripped him, her muscles fluttering wildly.

They both lay breathless and damp with sweat and champagne. He settled back against the cool stone, her body hot and heavy against his front.


He wondered idly if he'd ever looked quite so victorious in his throne before.


He wondered if he'd ever looked so completely owned by the woman on his lap.

They were both battered and damp from their exertions. Marks of battle mottled their skin.

One hand idly traced a full breast. The other splayed across her black.

When she made to move, that hand tightened as firmly as the bindings had. "Was it so hard to beg?"

She tensed and then instead curled her hand around him. He was already semi-hard again. "You tell me, Goblin King."

"Jareth." He covered her hand with his to encourage another stroke. "As it was my first time, I feel I need another try to have a basis of comparison."

"Mmm… the ogre king didn't elicit the same reaction?"

"He didn't have nearly as nice tits, Sarah."

She swatted him, though admittedly pleased. "You really are a pervert." She shifted in discomfort. "I'm rather sticky."

"Yes," he agreed unapologetically. "And delightfully naked."

"I'd like to fix that. And I should… really be going home."

His hand tightened again. "I can easily arrange a shower for the first. I even promise not to spy," he lied.

"The owl!" Sarah's eyes swivelled to the bird still taped to the wall. It blinked back at her – shell-shocked by the things it must have seen.

"Hmm? Oh yes, the owl. I'll take care of it." Jareth waved a hand dismissively. "Now as to the matter of going home… we haven't dealt with your punishment. I'm afraid I really can't let you leave just yet."

Sarah pulled a face. "You've got to be kidding. It was a misunderstanding. The owl is fine. And the stupid tape didn't even work."

"Oh but there you're wrong, Sarah mine. That tape, wherever you got it from – and I'm certain you will tell me - works quite well against fae. You just happened to trap the wrong owl. Tape and feathers never mix. Now," he slid a finger along her chin. "I'll be generous enough to give you time to bathe and then we can discuss your," he smiled darkly, "punishment."

She drew back. "What was all this then?"

"Only the beginning." He set her on her feet. She stood there naked trying very hard not to fidget, before snatching up her destroyed robe.

Jareth considered her. His eyes tracing every mark he'd left. His pants, still open, let her see that he very much appreciated what he saw. He reluctantly collected his discarded shirt and then tucked it around her. Evidently liking the sight of her in his clothes too, he pressed a hungry kiss against her swollen mouth, only pulling back when she needed to breath.

"As much as I'd love to have you walk through the castle naked, we've traumatized enough Goblins, I think." He kissed her again, unable to resist, drunk on the power of merely touching her.

Sarah laughed awkwardly. "You're joking about punishment right?"

He raised a brow. "What's said is said."

After a few wrong turns she found herself in the lavish bedroom that was obviously his. He didn't want her walking around naked, but he clearly had no qualms about sending through the halls in nothing but his shirt. Almost certainly, knowing him, by design. The few goblins she did pass were either completely scandalized or shot her snide looks of smug understanding. One even sniggered boldly.

"Didn't I level your house thirteen years ago?"

The goblin frowned. "Er… Y-yesss."

"Shall I do it again, then?"

The goblin ducked his head and scurried away as fast he could.

Once inside the bedroom, she found an equally lavish en suite awaiting her, the sounds of a bath already filling. Her hand slid into the pocket of the ruined robe and withdrew a bright pink roll of tape. She palmed it thoughtfully. Good to know that the tape really did work, and that she'd left it in her pocket. She had the sudden inclination she might need it.

Jareth stretched languidly and then adjusted himself with a hiss.

A ruffle of feathers reminded him of the other presence. His lips twitched. He'd forgotten about the guest. He walked over and pulled the tape free carefully, the owl stretching its abused wings fitfully.

"I'd say you can go now." The bird blinked lambent eyes at the king and then squawked.

Jareth turned and picked up the still half full of champagne from the throne. "Oh, nothing too drastic. I've no intention of losing what I've gained today." He snagged the two glasses, still shirtless and pants teasingly open. He rocked the bottle, the liquid swishing. "Especially once she discovers what drinking this meant."

The owl let out another angry shriek.

"Do calm down." Jareth flicked his free hand and the owl became a wide-eyed dwarf. The Goblin King considered him. "I think I liked you better as an owl actually. Pity it didn't work out the way you'd hoped. I did so generously grant you the right to go and visit her at your request." At the dwarf's look of outrage, Jareth held up a finger. "Ah, I just never specified what form you'd take. I didn't force her to come here. What's done is done," Jareth laughed. "And you certainly can't deny she was… enthusiastically willing. I'm in your debt really."

The dwarf dipped his head in shame, unable to speak. He was the worst sort of friend. He'd all but led her right to him.

Jareth turned to leave, but then paused. "Oh and Hogshead, I'd forget everything you saw in this room if I were you. Unless you want to become the prince of the land of stench."

The Goblin King was grinning when he appeared in the bedroom a few moments later, the sound of a bath in progress evident.

He was still grinning when he locked the door.

The end

AN: I'll see myself off to confession now.

Originally the owl was going to turn out to be a goblin, then a devious voice said, torture Hoggle. So I did. I changed a line in chapter one to make it work (replacing Hoggle with Didymus). Hopefully that wasn't too jarring.

Deliberately leaving this open-ended. It was meant to be a PWP (I know, not my usual style) and I'm leaving it as such. I'd imagine fireworks lie ahead (and more sexy times) when it all comes out. Does she get to use the tape and turn the tables? Maybe… maybe.

Thanks for reading, you naughty beasts!

Off to work on Tanglewood...