The Dark Forest: A Collection Of Erotic Fairytales

by Zoe Blake

  “A trainer?”

  “Yes. Maleficent has too many beauties to care for or pay attention to. But he wants each one ready in case he decides to pluck her from the hundred or so imprisoned women. Your trainer will own you. It is his job to groom you into the perfect beauty for Maleficent’s collection. And trust me, do not push or go against your trainer. When I return to mine, he may simply kill me, but I have a feeling his wrath will be far worse than death.”

  “How did you escape?” An odd sensation filled me. Hope? Was there a way out of this nightmare? Could I possibly escape as well, but not get caught like this poor woman in the corner awaiting to be delivered to her death?

  “There is no escape. Get that foolish thought out of your mind. I’m proof of that. The best thing for you to do is submit. Do not resist. Don’t fight. If you do, it will only be worse. So much worse.”

  “Do what? Submit to what?”

  The woman huffed. “Whatever your trainer demands. And trust me, you will be asked to do things, to endure acts you can’t even imagine. But if you don’t, they will beat you, or torture you, and when they are done, they will still expect you to do whatever they asked to begin with. I’ve seen them execute women for resisting. It’s all pointless.”

  The carriage slowed down and eventually came to a stop. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep as the woman advised, trying hard not to panic and give away anything. Everything she had said about death, punishment, submitting… I was doomed.

  The crunch of rock beneath the approaching men’s boots, and then the opening of the prison door caused me to flinch and breathe heavily. They would know I wasn’t really asleep if I didn’t calm down.

  Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.

  “Some of them are stirring,” one soldier said. “Hurry up and carry them to the shower room before we have them waking up, panicking, and then trying to flee out of here. I’m not in the mood for a run.”

  The shift of bodies told me that the other soldiers were following the command. Focusing on my breathing, I struggled not to flinch when my naked body was pulled harshly from the wagon and flung over someone’s shoulder. I remained as limp and still as I could, even though every step the man took had his bony shoulder jabbing into my stomach. If I hadn’t been starving and hadn’t had food in my stomach for days, I would have surely thrown up with the amount of pressure being applied to my empty gut. Resisting the urge to peek and look around, I tried to focus on the noises around me instead. The only thing I could hear was the sound of the man’s heavy steps carrying me, and the voices of several men all around, each mumbling about the stench or the weight of the woman they carried.

  When the sound of the gravel beneath the boots of my carrier changed to the click of soles against solid floor, my body was soon tossed to the hard, cold ground. I managed to not cry out in pain as my body hit the floor with enough force to knock the wind out of me. My head hit the back of a wall hard enough for my ears to ring. The sound of groans and whimpers of the women all around me was my cue that I, too, could stir awake. Keeping my ruse up, I also slowly opened my eyes with tiny moans and an added whimper or two for effect.

  Looking around, I could see that all of the captured women were cast around in one big room, with no windows and tiles from floor to ceiling. The stark white color made the room appear almost metallic in nature. Showerheads were lined up along all four walls, and there were several metal drains scattered around the floor. We had been delivered to the shower room, and although I fought back the madness of being more terrified than I had ever been in my entire life, the thought of taking a shower and having actual running water on my body delighted me.

  “Rise and shine, beauties,” a guard shouted, his voice echoing off the tiles.

  Every female had their eyes already opened or very near, and their obvious horror of the situation mirrored mine.

  “Get up and clean yourselves,” he ordered, taking a few steps back toward the entrance. He then flipped a red switch on his right, and water came rushing out of all the showerheads.

  When the freezing water hit all the naked women, some squealed, some cried, but others stood as I did and we began washing the grime off our bodies. The temperature didn’t bother me, especially if it meant getting clean. Not being sure if I would get in trouble or not, I decided to risk it and opened my mouth, quenching my parched throat with the first fresh water I had seen in ages. The refreshing liquid tasted metallic as it clearly came from corroded pipes, but regardless, I swallowed large gulps as the spray rained down on my face.

  “Be sure to clean those dirty cunts and the crack between your arse cheeks.” The man’s crude comment had the more frightened women whimpering even more than they already were. But again, I didn’t care. I’m not sure why the words didn’t bother me, but they simply did not. The day I surrendered myself, I knew that I was accepting darkness to take over. I had accepted that truth, and the guard’s harsh words would only be the beginning.

  Noticing that others were using bars of soap, lathering the suds over their soiled bodies, I glanced around until I found a bar of my own on a nearby ledge. Reaching out for the soap and rubbing it over my dirty skin, with water cascading all around me, I actually possessed a feeling of happiness. It had been so long, and even standing in a room with other captured slaves, showering beneath freezing water, under the eyes of a guard, I felt human.

  When the showers were abruptly shut off, we stood with arms wrapped around our shivering bodies, staring at the guard, waiting for him to tell us what was next. Water droplets hung from my hair, and goosebumps covered every inch of my skin, but I still didn’t care. I was clean. Some cried, others pleaded, yet I did nothing more than hold my head high and wait. Maybe it was speaking with the shadowed woman in the carriage that helped aid me in my courage. Maybe it was that I knew a little of what was coming, and the unknown didn’t haunt me as badly as it did the other women. Or maybe it was simply the fact that my life hadn’t been roses before, but rather the thorns. Could it really get much worse?

  “Get on your knees,” the man ordered as he opened the door and signaled for the rest of the guards to enter. Their black boots splashing on the puddled floor was all I could see as I did what was asked with no hesitation. Other women did not act on command as fast, or at all, and were rewarded with slaps to the face, or pulling of hair as they were forced to kneel before each approaching guard.

  “You better get used to it, beauties. From this moment on, you do exactly as you are commanded. The consequences will be severe if you do not.”

  The sound of metal and chain came before a heavy collar was clasped around my neck, hooked to a silver chain. I glanced up to see a man with a devilish smirk staring down at me, holding my leash as if I were an animal.

  “Get used to it, beauties. You all are Maleficent’s little pets. Whatever pride you have right now, you better get rid of it quick.” As he turned, he motioned for all the guards to lead their “pets” by their leashes. The few women who tried to stand were shoved back to the ground with a kick to the ribs or a slap to the ass.

  Trying not to pay attention to the cries of others, I crawled on my hands and knees as fast as I could so the collar wouldn’t choke me. My guard paid little attention to my struggles at keeping up. My knees kept slipping from underneath me on the wet tile, and a few times I fell, hitting my face on the ground, but not once did my guard slow. It only got worse when we crossed the threshold and my hands and knees made contact with the rocky path. Tiny pebbles dug into my palms and ripped my knees to shreds with every movement I made. I wasn’t given the time to tenderly or carefully maneuver my way, and was all but dragged by the tug of my leash if I slowed in the slightest. The bright sun had me squinting my eyes, but the rays of light did little to warm the chill in the air. It wasn’t exactly cold outside, but my hair still dripped down my back and my flesh was still damp, making the slight breeze bitterly cold. There were guards all around, and I should have b
een embarrassed at being in such a humiliating position, but they didn’t seem to care or notice that twenty or so naked women were crawling all around them. Was this the norm for their lives? It was as if we were just the backdrop to their every day routine. And the worst part of all for me was that I no longer was clean. Dirt blackened beneath my nails again, my hands covered in dirt and blood. I mourned my moment of cleanliness for however short it had been.

  We reached the bottom of the stairs leading up to another building. My guard paused, and for a moment, I hoped he would grant me the mercy to stand and at least walk up the stairs.

  He did not.

  Yanking hard, he climbed the steps, dragging me behind. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t crawl up the stairs quickly, the awkward position of my body doing so spread my legs apart. I knew all of my privates were on full and vulgar display. But there was nothing I could do as I gagged and wheezed for breath as the metal of the collar cut into the skin of my neck.

  “Move it!” my guard snapped.

  But what could I do? The coordination to crawl up the steps did not come to me fast enough. I cried out, but no sound came from my strangled throat. Tears ran down my face and all I could see were the blurry boots of my tormentor before me. Would I die like this? Would my death be caused by crawling up the stairs? It was certainly not the most glamorous way to meet my maker.

  My guard, growing frustrated by my lack of speed, reached down and yanked me by the hair. The biting sting at my roots was welcome because it meant that I had a moment to gasp a large, life-saving breath, refilling my deprived lungs. Tossing me to the landing at the top of the stairs, he once again reached for my leash and led me the rest of the way into the building. I crawled as fast as I could, wanting to please my guard since, in a sick way, I felt I owed him a renewed obedience. He had given me mercy by pulling me up the steps—by my hair, rather than the metal and chain—the rest of the way.

  We stopped in a large empty room—an auditorium of sorts. Each woman remained kneeling, but we were all in a single file line facing the back of the room. The guards dropped our leashes, all walked to the side of the room, and stood against the wall. I glanced in both directions with my eyes, but trying to keep my head down, not moving an inch. I didn’t want to stand out or have anyone notice me. The woman to my right silently sobbed, while the woman to my left shifted her hands and knees, smearing blood on the grey concrete floor.

  We waited. For what, I wasn’t sure.

  My knees ached and my palms throbbed but I refused to break position, as did the rest of the lined up women. We remained in position for ten minutes, twenty, thirty… I couldn’t be sure. But with each passing minute, my body screamed in agony, desperate to move and relieve at least some of the pain.

  Finally, the heavy sound of boots walking across the concrete floor, then several others following, announced others were joining us in the room.

  “You all may sit back and rest on your feet. Place your palms on your thighs and spread your legs wide,” came a deep and powerful voice as he walked in front of us, standing with his arms crossed.

  I almost moaned in relief when I was able to relieve the pressure on my battered hands and knees. Fighting back dizziness, I did as the man commanded, trying not to focus on the cool air of the room making contact with my spread sex. The dampness from the shower still remained on my black curly hairs, only causing my vulnerability to heighten even more.

  The man before us had dark hair that hung in waves to his shoulders. His face had a faint shading of hair, and his eyes bored into each of us with an intensity that sent a shiver down my body. His nose was long and narrow, standing out as his most prominent feature. He reminded me of what I imagined a goblin king to look like in a classic fairytale of a time long ago… before the wars destroyed everything.

  The rest of the men who marched in behind this man lined up behind him with their arms clasped behind their backs, legs shoulder-width apart, and they stared straight ahead. They all wore black, and although they didn’t appear to be like the soldiers or the guards, they did have a level of militant energy around them.

  “My name is Maleficent,” the man began. “I am sure you have all heard of me.” He gave a wicked smile. “And let me assure you. All the rumors you have heard are true. And even worse.” He snickered at his own joke, but no one in the room showed any emotion at all. Unless you counted the women, who softly whimpered or gasped at his words.

  I swallowed hard, struggling with the overwhelming urge to close my legs when his eyes peered upon me. Luckily, his gaze eventually moved on and looked at the next woman, and then the next.

  “You are all now my beauties. You belong to me and no one else. The only way you can break free from my hold is when I no longer want you. At which time, you will be discarded like trash.” He paused, but didn’t move his stance at all. “I have high expectations of my beauties. For that reason, I will assign each of you a trainer. Your trainer is responsible for doing all that it takes to have you ready to fully join my harem of prized beauties. It could take months, it could take years, and it may never actually happen. The decision is mine and only mine.”

  I looked past Maleficent to the men standing at attention behind him, assuming they were the trainers he spoke of. When I did so, I noticed that the one standing directly in front of me was staring right at me. Not at my sex like Maleficent had, but into my eyes. This man did not break his stare. Was he to be my trainer? Like Maleficent, his hair was dark—almost black. He was a little taller than the men he stood next to, and his broad chest a little wider. I couldn’t make out the color of his eyes, since they were shadowed, but they seemed ominous. His lips pressed firmly together and his rigid jaw line scared me. I didn’t want him to be my trainer. He looked far more severe than the other men did.

  “You will be fed. You will be cared for. You will be far better off here with me and my men than you ever were before out in that god forsaken land,” Maleficent continued. “I know you are all afraid, my beauties. And although there is much to fear, especially my wrath, I do want you all to know that as long as you behave, you will prosper under my rule.” He took a long pause and then clapped his hands. “Well, let’s begin! Trainers, I believe it is time you introduce yourselves to the beauties.”

  Each of the trainers silently walked over and stood in a line before us. The man who had been staring at me was indeed my assigned trainer, but I already knew that. I glanced up at him briefly, but when his dark eyes glared into mine, I had to look toward the ground to avoid the intensity.

  “Men,” Maleficent said.

  On his word, my trainer unbuttoned his pants, unzipped, and pulled out his large penis. In shock, I glanced down the line of captive women to see that each of the trainers had done the exact same thing, and penis after penis went as far as I could see.

  “My beauties. I would like for you to formally meet your trainer. Open up your mouths, and greet the man you are to obey at all times. Open wide. Now.” His last word was so sharp that I actually flinched when the booming voice echoed off the walls. I remained frozen, not knowing what to do. As simple as the command sounded, the actual idea of having the man’s body part in my mouth as I sat helpless before him seemed impossible. I could hear cries and gags around me, the sound of faces being smacked for undoubtedly doing as I was—nothing. Although when my trainer’s hand moved to my face, a slap did not occur. Instead, he reached for my chin, and pulled my face to the tip of his hardened flesh. He continued to hold my chin as he pressed past my lips and rested heavy on my tongue. I didn’t have a choice but to open wide as the thickness of his member filled every inch of open space in my mouth. The weight was heavy against my tongue, and as he pressed deeper inside, I struggled not to gag as his full size touched the back of my throat. He released my chin and placed both of his hands on each side of my head, and gently began rocking his hips. The friction of my lips along his smooth and velvety skin caused his penis to twitch and grow even bigger.
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  I looked up at him, and for the first time since he entered the room, he wasn’t staring at me. Instead, he had his eyes closed, his head tilted back slightly, and it appeared as if I were giving him pleasure by having my mouth around him. I glanced to my right and saw the woman beside me crying as her trainer jammed his veiny penis forcefully into her mouth. At least mine kept his pushing and pulling at a steady and almost gentle rhythm. I wasn’t crying, nor was I gagging anymore. Instead, I focused on the actual act itself. Tasting the saltiness, smelling the musky odor, and feeling the black hairs that circled his sex brush up against my face each time he drove as far into my mouth as he could. I simply held my position, kept my mouth open, and tried to tune out all the moans, cries, choking and mewling all around me. I think it helped that my trainer kept his hands firmly placed on my head. It offered me the support and guidance that I so desperately needed.

  “That’s it, my beauties,” I heard Maleficent call out from a distance. “Suck those cocks. Worship that cock in your mouth. You are to do exactly as your trainer orders. He is your master and is acting under my command. Everything he tells you to do is directly from me. So, if you disobey your trainer, then you are disobeying me. The penalty for disobeying me is death. So make your choices wisely, my loves. Is your pride worth dying over?”

  The entire time Maleficent spoke, my trainer kept his pace. In and out he went, plundering my mouth with his… cock as Maleficent called it. As time went on, I could hear the sound of deep moans coming from the men, more gagging, and even spitting all around. A few slaps, even more cries, but I ignored all. I simply watched the face of my trainer tighten, his breathing increase, and his thrusts grow in aggression. A deep moan came from the depths of his belly and exited his lips on a growl. Hot liquid shot from his cock and coated the back of my throat, forcing me to swallow the salty, milky matter. I gagged and almost threw it back up, but forced it to stay down as my eyes filled with tears. My body heaved and I desperately needed to inhale a deep breath but his member still blocked my air passage. A new sense of panic set in when I wondered if I would choke, but was granted a reprieve when my trainer’s softening cock pulled out of my mouth completely. I gasped and shook, but managed to not vomit as some women did around me. He released my head from his grip, and with a gentle touch of his fingertip, he swiped at the remnants of his release that seeped from the corner of my mouth.