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aldersprigFirst: A beginning of a story which obnoxiously cuts off just before the description,
Previous: In Which Amrit Starts to Learn his Limits.
Fae Apoc, approx. now.
Content Warnings: This setting, although not this ficlet, contains rape, mind control, and dubious consent situations.
This particular story contains kidnapping and slavery, bondage, and will eventually contain violence & Stockholm Syndrome.
Mieve was a bit surprised - despite her confidence in the strength of the restraints and the bed - to find her new slave still where she’d left him, and, from the sounds of things, still sleeping. He snored. Maybe it was best she was leaving him in his own room.
She let him stay there until the smell of cooking breakfast woke him - and wouldn’t it be nice if he’d settle down enough that she could trust him with that chore? - and got him to the kitchen with very little argument or fight. She could hear the noises his stomach was making; hunger was a pretty good motivator.
She dished his meal before she undid the gag. “No Workings, nothing that even sounds like a Working,” she warned him, “or I cut off your air and put the gag back in.”
For once, he neither swore at her nor fought it. Mieve imagined it was the farmer’s breakfast - eggs, the last bit of bacon from her last trade, toast with honey - laid out before him.
He ate without words, wiped his mouth afterwards, and sipped the water she’d left for him as if it was the finest wine.
When their plates were both clean, she steepled her fingers and looked at him over them. “Okay, you’ve got two choices today. You can split wood or plow the field.”
He barely thought about it for a second. “Split wood.”
“Be forewarned.” She picked up the gag again. “If you use the axe to break your chain, I will break your leg.”
He didn't flinch, but she noticed that he considered it. "Noted." He nodded at her.
"Good." Dead gods, he was going to make her do it, wasn't he? Well, maybe she could gentle him before it came to that. She held up the gag towards him; he sighed and opened his mouth.
"This way." Leading him around on a tether was going to get old fast; she could only hope it got old faster for him.
The firewood was a pile taller than either of them, heaped off to the side of the garage. There was already a loop set in the ground for his chain; she locked him in place before she handed him the ax. "If you fill this rack here before dinner time, I'll give you an hour without the gag tonight." It wouldn't be an easy day, but it was well within her ability, and ought to be within his, too. "I'll see you at noon for lunch."
Mieve's tiny farm took a lot of work. She spent an hour in the morning fashioning her captive a gag that wouldn't cut his mouth open, the thwack of the ax into wood a constant background music. He worked fast, and he worked steadily. He probably hadn't been enslaved long, then: he hadn't been abused, he hadn't been starved, and he hadn't been broken of hope.
Once she was satisfied with her handiwork, Mieve went out to the field. There was still three hours before noon, and the field still needed to be plowed.
next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/894415.html
Previous: In Which Amrit Starts to Learn his Limits.
Fae Apoc, approx. now.
Content Warnings: This setting, although not this ficlet, contains rape, mind control, and dubious consent situations.
This particular story contains kidnapping and slavery, bondage, and will eventually contain violence & Stockholm Syndrome.
Mieve was a bit surprised - despite her confidence in the strength of the restraints and the bed - to find her new slave still where she’d left him, and, from the sounds of things, still sleeping. He snored. Maybe it was best she was leaving him in his own room.
She let him stay there until the smell of cooking breakfast woke him - and wouldn’t it be nice if he’d settle down enough that she could trust him with that chore? - and got him to the kitchen with very little argument or fight. She could hear the noises his stomach was making; hunger was a pretty good motivator.
She dished his meal before she undid the gag. “No Workings, nothing that even sounds like a Working,” she warned him, “or I cut off your air and put the gag back in.”
For once, he neither swore at her nor fought it. Mieve imagined it was the farmer’s breakfast - eggs, the last bit of bacon from her last trade, toast with honey - laid out before him.
He ate without words, wiped his mouth afterwards, and sipped the water she’d left for him as if it was the finest wine.
When their plates were both clean, she steepled her fingers and looked at him over them. “Okay, you’ve got two choices today. You can split wood or plow the field.”
He barely thought about it for a second. “Split wood.”
“Be forewarned.” She picked up the gag again. “If you use the axe to break your chain, I will break your leg.”
He didn't flinch, but she noticed that he considered it. "Noted." He nodded at her.
"Good." Dead gods, he was going to make her do it, wasn't he? Well, maybe she could gentle him before it came to that. She held up the gag towards him; he sighed and opened his mouth.
"This way." Leading him around on a tether was going to get old fast; she could only hope it got old faster for him.
The firewood was a pile taller than either of them, heaped off to the side of the garage. There was already a loop set in the ground for his chain; she locked him in place before she handed him the ax. "If you fill this rack here before dinner time, I'll give you an hour without the gag tonight." It wouldn't be an easy day, but it was well within her ability, and ought to be within his, too. "I'll see you at noon for lunch."
Mieve's tiny farm took a lot of work. She spent an hour in the morning fashioning her captive a gag that wouldn't cut his mouth open, the thwack of the ax into wood a constant background music. He worked fast, and he worked steadily. He probably hadn't been enslaved long, then: he hadn't been abused, he hadn't been starved, and he hadn't been broken of hope.
Once she was satisfied with her handiwork, Mieve went out to the field. There was still three hours before noon, and the field still needed to be plowed.
next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/894415.html
no subject
Date: 2015-02-02 09:34 am (UTC)It could shake out to a relationship much like that of Monkey and Trip from 'Enslaved: Odyssey to the West' (that's a video game in case you don't know it). She enslaves him out of desperation to return to her home but treats him well. He's obviously pretty lonely with his nomad ways and by the end, when she releases him he tells her to re-enable the slave band. There's some argument amongst the fans on why he did this, some arguing Stockholm's, others arguing that he just wanted an excuse to stay with her that gets around his macho lone wolf self-image. I'm in the latter camp, since she didn't do anything of the things that tends to cause Stockholm's and as I mentioned he seemed pretty lonely. It is open to interpretation though. It's a good game, but if you'd like to see the story without having to play it someone on youtube did a good job of movie'izing it which can be found here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JjkyxK5KgT0
The movie'ized version is about two hours long and is a pretty good watch.
Cheers.
no subject
Date: 2015-02-02 11:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-02-04 03:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-02-04 02:30 pm (UTC)If you've read Addergoole, you'll know that all the adults are habituated to think slavery and slave-games are a normal part of dating, with mutual ownership being the eventual result with marriage.
no subject
Date: 2015-02-04 06:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-02-05 03:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-02-05 04:01 pm (UTC)I'd say ... spitballing... maybe 10% of fae end up in mutual ownerships for some period of time.
no subject
Date: 2015-02-05 04:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-02-05 04:11 pm (UTC)I think I need to write some stories in Fae Society.