Heart Of Ice
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
6,567
Reviews:
27
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
6,567
Reviews:
27
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter Eighteen: Hands
Title: Heart Of Ice: Chapter Eighteen: Hands
Author: Carrie Alloway
Rating: NC-17.
Summary: Avery falls into the clutches of the helping hands who prove to be more hurtful than helpful.
Warning(s): Language, homosexuality, sex between a male minor and presumably male body parts.
Disclaimer: Technically, this is a rewrite of the movie Labyrinth. However, how much it resembles the movie remains to be seen. I do not own/am not associated with Labyrinth or anything related to it. However, all of the characters and some of the ideas in this story are mine.
Note(s): I really thought this chapter would be longer. But I swear the shaft of hands chapter will be a lot longer and have a much higher rating.
~*~
It was like something out of one of his worst nightmares, the ones he always awoke from screaming, clutching Pengi, his body, his clothing, his sheets all soaked in sweat, the ones that always involved an endless fall into darkness. Avery stretched out his arms, his hands reaching for anything to stop his fall. The shaft he had fallen into was deep, there was no doubt of that. The opening, only a small square of light now, was so far overhead Avery’s surroundings were entirely in darkness. And yet the shaft could not be overly wide because Avery’s grasping hands brushed against something, something that reminded him of cold, damp tree leaves. His feet did likewise on the oppsite side of the shaft.
“Help!” he shrieked as the square of light at the top of the shaft became smaller and smaller.
And just like that his fall was halted. Something wrapped around each of his wrists, pulling his arms over his head and leaving the rest of him to dangle helplessly in empty space.
“Oh, help!” he shouted again. Perhaps one of the frogs…but no, that was ridiculous. They had not seemed inclined to help him the first time around, why should they help him now? Besides, he had been wrong. This was, apparently, the certain death door.
“We are helping.” The voice came out of the darkness beside Avery’s head and he whimpered. This was worse than his nightmares.
“We’re helping hands,” another voice said from somewhere down around Avery’s feet. Another of the same things around his wrists wrapped around each of his ankles and held firmly. Too firmly.
“You’re hurting,” Avery complained. His eyes finally adusted to the darkness and in what small amount of light filtered down from the hole far above he could make out what held him. Wrapped around each of his wrists was a knarled, arthritic hand. Each hand was a blue-green color and seemed to be a part of the wall from which the forearm originated. There was no body, no legs or torso or head, only ancient hands that stuck out from the sides of the shaft all around, in every direction Avery looked. His mouth hung open in horror.
Beside his face two of the hands formed circles, the fingers curling to press against the thumb. A third hand curled into a fist between and below the two of them. Yet two more formed a half moon shape below the first. To Avery’s terrified mind it seemed as if the hands formed a face. He was proven right when a voice spoke and it came from the hands that shaped the mouth. “Would you like us to let go?” the voice asked. All four hands holding Avery fell away.
“No!” he shrieked as he fell through the darkness again.
And again he was caught. This time the hands made a sort of seat and the boy was dropped into it. He sat stunned for a moment but began to wriggle again when one of the repulsive hands began to stroke his bare knee through the rip in his track pants. “What are you doing?” he shrieked. “Let me-“ No, he did not want them to let him go. Avery could not stop himself from struggling anyway. Hands tightened painfully around his wrists and ankles.
“Don’t struggle, child,” another voice purred from another face made of hands.
Avery jerked against the hands on his wrists.
Cruel laughter sounded in the shaft. “Pretty child,” a slippery voice whispered.
“Aren’t you curious, beautiful boy?” another voice, just as slimy as the first, took up the refrain. “Don’t you want to know how good we can make you feel?”
Avery shook his head wildly, his terrified mind incapable of thinking words, much less making them come out. Another hand slid up his back over his shirt. The hand on his back reminded Avery of his own terror and forced his words out. “Jilly,” he gasped. “I have to save Jilly!”
He was silenced by a hand over his mouth. Avery briefly considered biting it but it smelled rotten and he imagined it would taste worse.
“You have something we want, pretty boy,” another voice said.
Avery froze in fear again. He watched enough late night cable television to know that words like those never boded well for the ‘pretty boy’ in question. Two more hands stroked up and down his arms in a mockery of a gentle caress. His breathing became heavy and ragged, a sure sign of a panic attack.
“We promise you’ll like it,” another slippery voice claimed. Two hands slipped beneath his shirt and Avery’s entire body shook in fear. If someone – the Goblin King for example – were to come to him now and offer him a one way trip home, with or without Jilly, he would happily have taken it.
~*~
In the Goblin King’s throne room the king himself had momentarily lost interest in the boy. The crystal orb sat in a tall wrought iron stand beside the throne made specifically for holding it.
The Goblin King himself was playing a modified version of soccer in which the ball was a goblin with Jilly. Had he not been distracted Fabian, even with his heart a frozen ball of ice, would have stopped it because the hands, even without the aid of the curse, were the most vile inhabitants of the kingdom of Llabreth. The hands, in their non-cursed state, belonged to Llabreth’ worst criminals, those who had committed crimes of a sexual nature against children much like the boy who had so recently fallen into their clutches.
~*~
A hand traveled up each of his sides, bringing his tee shirt along too. Those hands stopped once they reached his armpits and two more took over from there. They raised his shirt up his arms and his wrists were released long enough for it to be taken off. It was dropped into the darkness below. Four hands returned to Avery’s skin. He whimpered in protest. It was the only sound the terrified boy could make. He shivered at the touch of dank air on previously covered skin.
The two hands on Avery’s stomach began to wander upward. They were cold and clammy and damp against his skin. The repulsive hands refused to stay still. Fingers stroked his now bare nipples then pinched them.
Avery whimpered from the pain even as the tiny buds hardened.
“Such a pretty little thing,” another of the voices said.
“Beautiful little boy-child,” yet another agreed. “It makeses the pretty soundses too…”
Avery whimpered again.
Another hand of arthritic greenish blue fingers teased their way up his stomach and over his ribs to take their turn on his nipples. They pinched painfully and Avery struggled against the hands wrapped around his wrists. They tightened painfully and he could feel the bones in his wrists rub together. A more affectionate hand patted his cheek and he jerked his head away.
Mocking laughter came from up and down the shaft of hands. “Yesss, that’sss it,” a voice purred.
“It fights us,” another observed.
He felt two more hands move to the waistband of his pants and began to fight again. It did him no good. The hands – more of them – held him still. The ones at his waist tugged at his pants and Avery heard a distinct ripping sound as his legs were exposed to the cool, dank air of the shaft. Avery looked down. He could clearly see his own pale white legs shining in the darkness and could just barely make out the dark blue-green hands sliding up his legs. Their destination was clear and was clearly somewhere Avery did not want them to be. He pulled at his feet, wriggled his toes, and tried to kick at the offending hands but the ones around his ankles tightened and spread his legs, stretching him out so tightly he could no longer struggle.
A hand slid over Avery’s unresponsive penis, bringing it to full hardness with just a touch. Avery was not having fun and somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if these things had some sort of magic that could make him hard like that or if it was just that he was a seventeen-year-old boy capable of becoming aroused even when he was experiencing sheer terror. Rough fingers traced his opening from below him.
Avery whimpered. He squeezed his eyes shut.
One of the voices laughed cruelly. A less than gentle finger forced its way into him. Avery whimpered and bit his lip to hold back the scream trying to come out. A second finger forced its way into him followed by a third and Avery cried out loud. “No! Please! Don’t!” he found himself sobbing.
The intruding fingers brushed against something inside him. Avery was sure that – given the right circumstances – it would have felt phenomenal but as he came all he felt was violated.
Afterward the fingers inside him left. The hands holding his arms and legs let go. Avery fell again but this time the fall was shorter and he lacked the presence of mind to be afraid. He hit the dirty rock floor at the bottom of the oubliette hard enough to bruise but only curled himself into a ball and lay there, any desire to get to the castle at the center of the labyrinth and rescue his sister completely gone.
Author: Carrie Alloway
Rating: NC-17.
Summary: Avery falls into the clutches of the helping hands who prove to be more hurtful than helpful.
Warning(s): Language, homosexuality, sex between a male minor and presumably male body parts.
Disclaimer: Technically, this is a rewrite of the movie Labyrinth. However, how much it resembles the movie remains to be seen. I do not own/am not associated with Labyrinth or anything related to it. However, all of the characters and some of the ideas in this story are mine.
Note(s): I really thought this chapter would be longer. But I swear the shaft of hands chapter will be a lot longer and have a much higher rating.
~*~
It was like something out of one of his worst nightmares, the ones he always awoke from screaming, clutching Pengi, his body, his clothing, his sheets all soaked in sweat, the ones that always involved an endless fall into darkness. Avery stretched out his arms, his hands reaching for anything to stop his fall. The shaft he had fallen into was deep, there was no doubt of that. The opening, only a small square of light now, was so far overhead Avery’s surroundings were entirely in darkness. And yet the shaft could not be overly wide because Avery’s grasping hands brushed against something, something that reminded him of cold, damp tree leaves. His feet did likewise on the oppsite side of the shaft.
“Help!” he shrieked as the square of light at the top of the shaft became smaller and smaller.
And just like that his fall was halted. Something wrapped around each of his wrists, pulling his arms over his head and leaving the rest of him to dangle helplessly in empty space.
“Oh, help!” he shouted again. Perhaps one of the frogs…but no, that was ridiculous. They had not seemed inclined to help him the first time around, why should they help him now? Besides, he had been wrong. This was, apparently, the certain death door.
“We are helping.” The voice came out of the darkness beside Avery’s head and he whimpered. This was worse than his nightmares.
“We’re helping hands,” another voice said from somewhere down around Avery’s feet. Another of the same things around his wrists wrapped around each of his ankles and held firmly. Too firmly.
“You’re hurting,” Avery complained. His eyes finally adusted to the darkness and in what small amount of light filtered down from the hole far above he could make out what held him. Wrapped around each of his wrists was a knarled, arthritic hand. Each hand was a blue-green color and seemed to be a part of the wall from which the forearm originated. There was no body, no legs or torso or head, only ancient hands that stuck out from the sides of the shaft all around, in every direction Avery looked. His mouth hung open in horror.
Beside his face two of the hands formed circles, the fingers curling to press against the thumb. A third hand curled into a fist between and below the two of them. Yet two more formed a half moon shape below the first. To Avery’s terrified mind it seemed as if the hands formed a face. He was proven right when a voice spoke and it came from the hands that shaped the mouth. “Would you like us to let go?” the voice asked. All four hands holding Avery fell away.
“No!” he shrieked as he fell through the darkness again.
And again he was caught. This time the hands made a sort of seat and the boy was dropped into it. He sat stunned for a moment but began to wriggle again when one of the repulsive hands began to stroke his bare knee through the rip in his track pants. “What are you doing?” he shrieked. “Let me-“ No, he did not want them to let him go. Avery could not stop himself from struggling anyway. Hands tightened painfully around his wrists and ankles.
“Don’t struggle, child,” another voice purred from another face made of hands.
Avery jerked against the hands on his wrists.
Cruel laughter sounded in the shaft. “Pretty child,” a slippery voice whispered.
“Aren’t you curious, beautiful boy?” another voice, just as slimy as the first, took up the refrain. “Don’t you want to know how good we can make you feel?”
Avery shook his head wildly, his terrified mind incapable of thinking words, much less making them come out. Another hand slid up his back over his shirt. The hand on his back reminded Avery of his own terror and forced his words out. “Jilly,” he gasped. “I have to save Jilly!”
He was silenced by a hand over his mouth. Avery briefly considered biting it but it smelled rotten and he imagined it would taste worse.
“You have something we want, pretty boy,” another voice said.
Avery froze in fear again. He watched enough late night cable television to know that words like those never boded well for the ‘pretty boy’ in question. Two more hands stroked up and down his arms in a mockery of a gentle caress. His breathing became heavy and ragged, a sure sign of a panic attack.
“We promise you’ll like it,” another slippery voice claimed. Two hands slipped beneath his shirt and Avery’s entire body shook in fear. If someone – the Goblin King for example – were to come to him now and offer him a one way trip home, with or without Jilly, he would happily have taken it.
~*~
In the Goblin King’s throne room the king himself had momentarily lost interest in the boy. The crystal orb sat in a tall wrought iron stand beside the throne made specifically for holding it.
The Goblin King himself was playing a modified version of soccer in which the ball was a goblin with Jilly. Had he not been distracted Fabian, even with his heart a frozen ball of ice, would have stopped it because the hands, even without the aid of the curse, were the most vile inhabitants of the kingdom of Llabreth. The hands, in their non-cursed state, belonged to Llabreth’ worst criminals, those who had committed crimes of a sexual nature against children much like the boy who had so recently fallen into their clutches.
~*~
A hand traveled up each of his sides, bringing his tee shirt along too. Those hands stopped once they reached his armpits and two more took over from there. They raised his shirt up his arms and his wrists were released long enough for it to be taken off. It was dropped into the darkness below. Four hands returned to Avery’s skin. He whimpered in protest. It was the only sound the terrified boy could make. He shivered at the touch of dank air on previously covered skin.
The two hands on Avery’s stomach began to wander upward. They were cold and clammy and damp against his skin. The repulsive hands refused to stay still. Fingers stroked his now bare nipples then pinched them.
Avery whimpered from the pain even as the tiny buds hardened.
“Such a pretty little thing,” another of the voices said.
“Beautiful little boy-child,” yet another agreed. “It makeses the pretty soundses too…”
Avery whimpered again.
Another hand of arthritic greenish blue fingers teased their way up his stomach and over his ribs to take their turn on his nipples. They pinched painfully and Avery struggled against the hands wrapped around his wrists. They tightened painfully and he could feel the bones in his wrists rub together. A more affectionate hand patted his cheek and he jerked his head away.
Mocking laughter came from up and down the shaft of hands. “Yesss, that’sss it,” a voice purred.
“It fights us,” another observed.
He felt two more hands move to the waistband of his pants and began to fight again. It did him no good. The hands – more of them – held him still. The ones at his waist tugged at his pants and Avery heard a distinct ripping sound as his legs were exposed to the cool, dank air of the shaft. Avery looked down. He could clearly see his own pale white legs shining in the darkness and could just barely make out the dark blue-green hands sliding up his legs. Their destination was clear and was clearly somewhere Avery did not want them to be. He pulled at his feet, wriggled his toes, and tried to kick at the offending hands but the ones around his ankles tightened and spread his legs, stretching him out so tightly he could no longer struggle.
A hand slid over Avery’s unresponsive penis, bringing it to full hardness with just a touch. Avery was not having fun and somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if these things had some sort of magic that could make him hard like that or if it was just that he was a seventeen-year-old boy capable of becoming aroused even when he was experiencing sheer terror. Rough fingers traced his opening from below him.
Avery whimpered. He squeezed his eyes shut.
One of the voices laughed cruelly. A less than gentle finger forced its way into him. Avery whimpered and bit his lip to hold back the scream trying to come out. A second finger forced its way into him followed by a third and Avery cried out loud. “No! Please! Don’t!” he found himself sobbing.
The intruding fingers brushed against something inside him. Avery was sure that – given the right circumstances – it would have felt phenomenal but as he came all he felt was violated.
Afterward the fingers inside him left. The hands holding his arms and legs let go. Avery fell again but this time the fall was shorter and he lacked the presence of mind to be afraid. He hit the dirty rock floor at the bottom of the oubliette hard enough to bruise but only curled himself into a ball and lay there, any desire to get to the castle at the center of the labyrinth and rescue his sister completely gone.