The Goblins Gorl Ch 02

Fezzik sipped small beer from a dented tin mug as he watched his gorl sleep restlessly beside him. The slight alcoholic kick in the breakfast beer was nothing compared to the drunken feeling that came over him at the thought of claiming such a lovely gorl as his. He had seen many bigwalker gorls as pretty as this in goblin collars and chains. Yet most of those were owned by the richest goblins who could afford to buy them from the few bigwalkers who both knew of their kind and were willing to steal a gorl from the surface. The bigwalker slavers "abandoned" them at the entrance to Deepdown portals where a goblin had just so happened to leave gold or gems out. The poorer goblins had to make do with lesser stock in the brothels if they had not captured a low-grade gorl themselves.

His gorl lay on the bare stone of the ledge they were camped on. Fezzik had heard from many other gorl owners that a newly-captured one should sleep on the floor without any bedding for the first few months to teach her to be grateful for more. The same went for clothing. The most a gorl should wear, said many a goblin, was her bonds and a rubrope or chain to keep her wet and ready. Fezzik decided he liked the idea of keeping his gorl clothed. She would become more vulnerable when she was stripped. That was why he had allowed her to keep her brief underwear. It also softened the rubbing of the leather thong endowed with an arousal cantrip teasing her lower lips. He didn't want her to lose sensitivity as so many gorls did early in their new lives.

The gorl breathed more shallowly as she started to awaken. Fezzik grimaced. Time to be nasty for a bit. He did not have the taste for cruelty towards gorls that some goblins did. Those were the types that hated bigwalkers; they took it out on gorls instead. Still, a gorl needed to know discipline was there. A goblin could not be seen as soft. That lead to sass and stroppiness. If a gorl's owner did not take care of it, then it was perfectly within the laws of goblinkind for another to do so. She mumbled into the gag when he flipped her onto her belly. From out of his rucksack came a bigwalker electric cord. Fezzik double it into a loop.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Three welts bloomed on the gorl's asscheek. Fezzik had put some strength into the blows. He could have merely stung her for her first whipping. But he did not want to do this too much. Better to really have her understand what discipline meant. The first blow had her blue eyes flying open. The second had her arching into a bow. The third delivered where her bum met upper thigh tore a wail from under her double-gag that echoed about the cavern. A sour scent of painfearhumiliation and of the crack of wood on flesh filled his nostrils. This was not her first time getting punished, then. He firmly grabbed golden hair that still had streaks of black in it; he had washed out as much dye as he could on the trek down with soap and a waterfall. The gorl stared at him with dawning horror on her face.

"Yez, I'm real," Fezzik said. "You like that? I see some bigwalkers who do."

"Nnnnnmmmmm!" The gorl jerked her head from side to side in his grasp.

"Then you'll be a good gorl?" Fezzik tapped her breasts, then where her thighs clenched together, with the bend in the end of the cord. "No sass, no fighting, do what you're told. Simple rules. Breaking them means you get this anywhere on your body. A lot harder and a lot more of them."

The gorl jerked her wrists and ankes frantically in her leather bonds. Goblincraft-infused knots held.

Then she mumbled a soft "ymmmmph".

"Good gorl." He undid first the cloth over her face, then the stocking cleaving her lips. "Good gorls get breakfast. Thirsty?"

"Water," she croaked. "Anything. I-I'll suck you. Oh, god, you're worse than Aunt Margaret, don't hit me."

"Maybe later." Fezzik pressed a canteen to her lips. Half the water ended up on the stone of the ledge. "Easy. Take it slow. What's your name, gorl?"

"Holly." The gorl coughed. She licked lips of the last traces of moisture. "My name is Holly, sir."

"I like that name. You get to keep it," Fezzik said. "I am Fezzik. Only you call me 'my master', instead of sir. And you call any other goblin 'master' when addressing him."

"Okay. My master," Holly said. "Please don't hurt me."

"Hurting you is not what I like." Setting aside the cord, his free hand cupped a breast. He pushed a smidgen of goblincraft into the caress. " I like a good, obedient gorl. Good gorls get touched nice like this."

"Ohhhhhh." Blue eyes unfocused. She squirmed in his grip when his palm rubbed a stiff nipple.

"But not now." Fezzik broke contact. "A healthy gorl like you needs to stay strong."

He almost saw Holly pout when he released her. The goblincrafted rubrope would be keeping her simmering until he decided it was time to bring her to a boil. Out of the pack came an old oil lantern adapted to a camp stove. He filled a pot as dented as his mug with water from another canteen. Into it he dumped the food that bigwalkers dumped out of their huge stores: jerky, corn from a can, spaghetti sauce, frozen patties, and a few other things. Goblincraft rid the ingredients of what little rot or disease they had. It was called "gobbo", a staple of his kind.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the gorl shuffle on her side to the edge of the ledge. She winced with each breath. She would be feeling those U-shaped welts on her bum for some time. He watched as she gazed out with wide eyes at the cavern they were camped in. It was like those bigwalker temples he had snuck into from time to time. The ceiling arched high above. Pillars of stone laced with quartz and other minerals descended all the way down to the cavern floor twenty feet below the ledge. A winding stream ran down the center; water boiled over the ridges and rapids dotting its course.

She seemed to forget everything as she looked out on the scene. Fezzik found he liked the way her fascination brightened everything about her. He did not want a miserable gorl. Finally, he tapped on the rim of the pot after he had taken it off to cool for a bit. The gorl wormed her way to him with stomach audibly growling. He took one half of the first spoonful. Then he presented it to her with the spot where his mouth had been. She hesitated only as long before he reached for the power cord. They ate the gobbo one spoonful at a time. A touch of goblincraft had her kissing each time where his lips had touched.

Her cheeks were as flushed as crimson as her bum by the end.

Fezzik lowered her to the floor by a long rope; he rebound her ankles by tying them crossed together to prevent any attempt to run. He rappelled down after packing up a few minutes later. Holly seemed to have learned her lesson. He did not have to use the sleeping drug that had subdued her last night. He rearranged her bonds. The thong that served as both collar and leash now served to bind her wrists before her. The leather cord now left enough between collar and wrists to keep her hands right beneath her breasts. The cord about her waist was turned into a breast harness that nicely supported her teats. The hobble cord was tied off to the collar as a leash. They needed to make good time today.

He cut away her underwear. Holly sadly watched as he tossed it and the stockings into the river. It would do her good, after all, to be naked for a while. She could concentrate on the welts on her bum rather than the need between her legs. The gorl frowned when he put the rucksack on her. Fezzik twirled the leash in a meaningful way. Holly slowly shouldered the burden and rose to her feet. It was important that girls learned to obey even the hardest task put before them. She was a healthy bigwalker. She could manage.

Jerking the leash, Fezzik and his gorl headed for home.

+++++

Holly had been taken under the hill.

When she had been little, she had watched

Labyrinth

when her babysitter had been too busy yakking on the phone with her boyfriend to stop it. Holly had ended up watching it from behind the couch with just her wide eyes peeking over the top. She had had nightmares of Bowie in a pirate shirt creeping in to snatch her away. So she had done some research on her own into the old tales. She learned about faerie rings and the days when the fae roamed the world and all sorts of other fun stuff. Her nightmares had gone away when she started wearing her pajamas inside out so the Sidhe would not snatch her away to be exchanged for a changeling. Then there had been the...accident. And all that seemed so childish. Being taken under the hill by faeries was kids' stuff.

It wasn't. It was real. It hadn't been sexy Bowie in a pirate shirt, either. It had been this green monster who--even if he barely came to her waist in his boots--was strong in the way a chimpanzee was when it decided that it was time to gnaw off someone's face. It was real in the way that she had fallen through a portal of darkness into this maze of caves and passage deep beneath an earth that probably was not her own. If there even was a surface, It was real in the way that the knots in her bondage wove themselves ever tighter if she tried to pick at them with teeth or fingernails. It was real in the lingering tingle in her nipple where he had done something that had felt better than anything Dan had ever done.

The welts on her ass that felt like Fezzik had hit her three times with a baseball bat covered in fire ants were very, very real.

So she was a very good girl--uh, "gorl"--indeed as her master lead her like some pack mule ever deeper into the caverns. The straps of the backpack full of junk bit into her shoulders. Her bare feet ached from hours of plodding on stone. She couldn't stop gasping every so often because the bondage just would not let go of her. But she stayed quiet because he hadn't hit her or yelled at her. It was sort of pathetic, really. But Holly was going to take what she was going to get. The worst that Fezzik did was look at her with those snake-like golden eyes of his like the sleaziest guys in the clubs used to do. She knew he was looking her over in her bondage bra that bared everything and her bare lower lips that still tingled from the ghosts of the edging from that braided leather cord. He could have shoved her down and done things.

He didn't.

Holly shivered at what he might force her to feel if he did.

She nearly tripped over Fezzik when he stopped. She babbled out an apology for being a clumsy girl. Sorry. "Gorl". Fezzik only shrugged and signaled her to kneel. Holly kneeled as he had taught her earlier in the day: knees apart, back straight, and chest out. She pressed her butt onto her heels even though the welt throbbed sullenly when she put weight on them. Holly sighed in relief when he took the backpack off her. He did that every break. She took the canteen from him gratefully even though she had seen his fingers stroke the spout. Hazy pleasure washed through her when her lips touched the metal. Holly found herself kissing it like a lover where her master had laid some sort of spell on it. She couldn't stop the stupid blush that came over her every time it happened. Even so, she drank deep to wash away the dust of the journey.

She knelt for some time before her head cleared enough to see where they were. They had been taking a tunnel switchbacking through the stone after leaving the course of the river they had been following since they had left that big cave this morning. It seemed that they had come back to it. Wider now, it rushed through what looked like a huge lava tube. She and Fezzik were on a dock carved from black stone--basalt or granite--that came out of the tunnel. Wrought-iron lamp posts that could have been Victorian if not for the designs that looked older than humanity worked into them rose at the end of the dock. Crowning them were glass orbs full of some viscous green substance that glowed like Satan's chemlight. The goblin was sitting quietly on the backpack eating from a tin of Spam. It was probably a bad idea to interrupt him.

"More water?" Fezzik asked after she coughed.

"No, I'm good," Holly said. "I couldn't think of a way to talk to you without speaking without permission."

"If you need to ask, gorl?" Fezzik shrugged. "Ask. If your question is frivolous, you'll be disciplined for it. It is up to you to learn the right questions to ask."

"Yes, my master." Holly thought things through. "May your, uh, gorl ask what her duties will be when we reach our destination? Am I to carry loads, or work in the fields?"

"Hah, not a farmer." Fezzik patted her head indulgently. "No, you'll keep house. Clean, cook, do errands."

"Wonderful. Cinderella without ever going to the ball." Holly took a deep breath. "And, uh. I'm going to be serving in--"

"My bed, yez." Fezzik's pat became a caress that set Holly mewing against her will. "Do not worry. I am not expecting high-end brothel gorl slut. I teach you slow and steady. Not asking you to be lovey-dovey gorl. Just as diligent as in your other duties."

"You're already training me now, aren't you, my master." Holly clenched her fists at the unnatural pleasure of his touch. "Is this some kind of slaving sex magic?"

"Is goblincraft," Fezzik explained. He took a part from the backpack. "We have powers over what we claim. Watch."

"Wow," Holly said. In his clawed hands, what was a bicycle derailleur went from a grease-crusted mess to almost as good as new. "That's pretty neat."

"Goblins can only claim what is abandoned or rejected," Fezzik said. "Most of the time, it is food or things. But sometimes, it is a bigwalker. A gorl."

It took a moment for Holly to make the connection.

Abandoned.

Rejected.

He had control of her because she had nothing and no-one in her life.

Because of that, she had been dragged under the hill.

The flood of tears that she had been holding back came out.

So lost in her misery that she did not see the steamship nestling up against the dock.