The main hall was empty, save wild vines and bits of broken wall. Not a stick of furniture could be found. No decor or tapestries remain. Thieves had picked the place clean, yet all had refused to open the forbidden door. Not a single scratch mark was on the door. No one had attempted to pick the lock, pry open the hinges, and certainly, no one had dared to simply unlock the door.
On the wall, hanging under a great warning chiseled in stone, hung the great iron key. Various charms were carved into the wall around it, promising revenge against any who freed the old lord. Long was the memory of the highlanders.
I plucked the key from the wall and walked to the door, sliding it inside without pausing. It clicked, softly and simply, as I turned it. The old lock snapped open and dust trickled down from the door’s top as I tugged at it.
The old hinges wheezed, groaning under the movement they had not felt in years. As I pulled it open, the castle seemed to tense, uncertain of what still lived within her. Beyond the door, the castle waited, filled with dust that made me cough as I walked inside.
Elaborate tables with fancy place settings and long since disintegrated remains of tapestries decorated the dining hall. A great silver-plated throne sat at the head, a long since dried skeleton sitting in its seat. Before the bones sat a simple goblet, no doubt filled once with wine.
I tilted my head as I approached, glancing for signs of what had killed the man whose bare skull still bore a crown. Bones sat on the plate, some small bid. The wine had long dried up. The skeleton had partially collapsed, yet I could find the small bone the king had choked on.
“All alone and your goblin didn’t save you, hm?” I pulled the bone out and set it on the plate.
“I wasn’t ordered to.”
The voice was deep and graveled, with an accent that whispered of a fae language. I turned to look at the old man, his glowering eyes staring at me from across the room. He was short, goblin teeth glinting in the remaining sunlight that filtered in, a long pike resting in his hands. On his head sat a red cap, nearly dried by age and time. It had been a while since he had gotten the fresh blood he needed.
I shifted my body to face him. They said if you ran, he’d get you. And the door to his freedom stood wide open now. My brows rose. “Do you think that’s because he was choking?”
The toothy grin that met my words was haunting. Long, metal talons sat on his fingers, clicking against the wood of his armament. “Who knows. So long ago now…” he trailed off as he took a simple step forward.
My hands pressed into the king’s table and I lifted myself to sit on the edge, showing the goblin I wasn’t planning on running. His grin faltered, then suddenly returned as he stepped forward again. His wrinkled skin and toothy grin brought a small smile to my lips as I kept my eyes on his movement.
“Your hat, Robin, is looking very brown.”
The redcap stopped his movement. “What do you know about it? You’re but a child. Do the stories still carry?”
My smile didn’t falter. “Of the magic king, betrayer that he was, and his bound redcap? Indeed. So much so that I am the first, it seems, to open the door.”
He glanced back towards the door, a hint of hope returning to his face. “And yet you are not afraid?”
“I came to offer what you need willingly.” I raised a brow as his eyes narrowed at my response. “I have enough for your hat and am happy to give it. And to leave the door open. You’re free, Robin. There isn’t a human for miles. You can live and hunt here.”
The goblin took a step closer, and then another, until he stood before me, eyes looking up. His gaze trailed over my body before settling on my eyes. “But it’s more fun if they scream,” he teased.
I smirked. “I have no doubt you can make me scream, Robin.”
His eyes widened before he grinned. I stood, tilting my head to look down at him before I walked away, heading towards the passage he had come out of. “I hear you live in a dungeon,” I murmured before I stepped around the corner to the stairway leading down.
My boots made soft noises. Fire flickered to life behind me as the redcap suddenly appeared, still a creature of magic. He stepped around me to lead me downward, assuming that I couldn’t see without his fire.
The dungeon was bare, no cages. Just a pile of bones in the corner where Robin had made his home. I raised a brow at the chains and steel racks that were scattered about the giant space.
He lumbered away, igniting a fire in the pit that illuminated his home. Slowly the goblin turned as I looked at the illuminated torturee devices, a knowing smile on my lips. I raised a hand to untie the cloak and let it fall before I began to unfasten my breeches.
“No no, no need. I can do that,” he said in a low voice. I moved my hands away, letting them fall to my side.
He approached, hands gliding over my clothes without touching, outlining my body. His mouth stayed open, pink tongue showing, as he imagined my body beneath the clothes. “Why?” he asked as his hands returned to his side.
The real question beneath it was is this a trick?
I smiled and knelt beside the goblin. “Because you need to see that people are willing to please you. To meet your needs. And I want to be that person, Robin. I want to bleed for you.”
His wicked grin grew wide as he caressed my cheek. “You’re one of those that likes pain, aren’t you.” It was a statement, not a question. Fingers closed around the back of my neck as he pulled me forward and with surprising strength, threw me over a raised block of wood on the ground, facing the fire.
I pushed up on the ground but felt his strong hands grab my wrist and pull, closing a metal manacle around it. Within moments he had caught my other hand and secured it, so that I was face down, head off the block, my knees touching the ground. Metal clicked as he pulled my leg to the side and secured one ankle and then another
“Pretty woman,” he cooed at me as he walked around my body, never touching, simply watching. I didn’t struggle but tested each manacle. They were strong. Aged iron still held despite the test of time.
Iron claws raked against my back, gently teasing the cloth. I shivered and made a soft gasp. I could feel his grin as he slipped his claws against my neck and under the cloth of my shirt. The fabric tore from his talons, splitting down the middle and revealing my skin to the cool dungeon air.
The claws slipped under the edge of the breeches, shredding them as he went until my body was revealed, sitting in a puddle of my clothes. Those dangerous nails played over my thigh and back, slid over my hips to play at my fold. He chuckled, feeling how wet I was, and how eager I had been for him.
Another shudder ran through me as the goblin moved to stand before me and placed an old stone bowl beneath my throat. I lifted my head to gaze up at him. I barely glanced at his eyes before he pushed his erect length into my mouth, filling me and causing me to gag. I whimpered, but his fingers held my head steady as he thrust forward, stopping me from questioning him.
A muffled cry came out of my mouth as a cold chain whipped against my back, bruising and stinging at the same time. My body jerked, as though it could run away despite the manacles. Another clang echoed as he struck me again, hitting my backside. Pain blossomed in my body as I choked on his erection.
Nails dug into my scalp as he pushed my face against his groin, ensuring I took every inch of him as the chain kept hitting me. A sound of delight, somewhere between a growl and a groan, came out of him every time I jumped from the pain.
Finally, he pulled my head back, drool dangling from his tip to my lips. “Ask no questions,” he said in a dark command. “Unless you would break. Can’t have that, now can we?”
The redcap stroked my hair gently before his nails pierced my scalp, sending fire through my skull. I whimpered as blood began to trickle from each hole, sliding down my cheeks to drip off of my chin and into his bowl.
“Good girl,” he whispered, leaning down to lap the blood off of my cheek. “We’ll start here. Keep your blood pumping though,” he murmured and rose my head to his hardened length. With a tug that hurt every cut he had made, he pulled me back onto him, shoving himself as far as back as he could.
His hips thrust, pounding into my mouth as I sucked in desperate breaths between each grinding jab forward. Saliva spilled down my chin, mixing with the rivulets of blood that fell into the bowl below. Robin held me firm, each penetration driving the pain and feel of the blood away from my mind.
Suddenly he pulled back. I gasped for breath and coughed. “It’s been so long, girl. Your mouth is just so good.” He chuckled in his aged voice and stepped away from my head, letting me hold it up myself.
I could hear the chain he pulled as he leaned down, pushing my hair away from my neck to close a thin collar around it. The chain attached, holding my head up so the cuts drained into the bowl.
The blood had slowed. He stroked my back as he examined the blood in the bowl. “Not bad. But it will take more. My hat is so very dry.” His fingers twitched and cuts formed on my cheeks and jaw, leaching out blood little by little.
Nails shivered along the bruises he had left before sliding down between my thighs. Carefully they slid in, then out. I heard him sucking his nails, tasting me as he chuckled again.
Pain shot through me as his nails cut on either of my thighs, not so deep to get arteries, but deep enough hot blood slid down them, dripping into the bowl he placed below. I struggled, flinching away as his nails kept cutting, lining my inner thighs with deep claw marks.
A small tongue poked against my rear entrance as his claws slid upward, cutting the skin of my backside. I whimpered, then moaned, as his tongue lapped and then poked inward, invading. Heat spread through me while he sliced and licked, teasing my entrance before a larger pressure formed there.
“Be still,” he grumbled as I pushed back against him, hips and thighs covered in blood. With one great thrust, he pushed himself deep into me, invading my rear without hesitation. I cried out in pleasure and pain, shuddering as he claimed what he wanted.
His hips thrust, pushing hard and fast into me as my body struggled to adjust. Shivers ran through me as he gained speed, moving faster and harder than any creature could as he filled me. My cries filled the dungeon, bouncing off the walls around us while he mounted me.
New pain erupted as his nails dug deep into my back, shredding the skin without hesitation. Blood slid down my sides, coating the wood I lay upon. A rough fabric was rubbed over the wound, lapping up the blood at my thighs and over my back as he kept moving forward, growing harder with each thrust.
I cried out, pleasure and pain forming pressure within me until it exploded outward and I trembled, gasping against the waves of ecstasy. My body bucked against him, shuddering and then sagging as he kept thrusting within me.
“Good girl,” he snarled. “That’s a good... girl…” He grunted the phrase between each thrust until his words became sounds and a violent snarl joined my frantic moans. Nails dug deep into my back, holding me steady as he exploded inside of me, twitching and spurting.
A raggedy breath followed as he slowly pumped his hips, leisurely working himself as he softened inside of me. The rough material was pushed over my back, then finally removed. “You’ve been such a… good girl…” he murmured and pulled himself from me. I felt the heat of his seed leek down my skin and mingle with the blood.
With a chuckle, he released my ankles and then wrists before coming to my face. The chain released my neck as he tossed his now red hat into the bowl, sopping up the last of my blood.
I laid on his block, wrecked and bleeding and craving more. The goblin caressed my hair gently. “Thank you,” he whispered and kissed my forehead. “I woulda perished soon without you.”
He showed me his freshly bloodied hat. I nodded. “I know.”
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