Where was she? She was supposed to be here. He had explicitly *ordered* her not to go *anywhere*. But she apparently had. In a rage Angel picked up a crystal goblet he had been using earlier and smashed it against a wall.

He had been too lenient with her, too indulgent. She needed to know that he was in charge. He was her Sire and she *would* do as he said, like it or not. His rules weren't some ego trip. They were for her *protection*. She was completely unaware of some of the dangers the outside world held. He stormed out the door.

Buffy was having coffee at the Espresso Pump with Willow and Oz. She could feel his approach long before she could smell or hear him. He was undoubtedly angry. He had told her not to go anywhere, but his reasons were just nonsense. She'd bolted from the mansion two seconds after he left her at sunset.

Making her excuses, she said goodbye to her friends and walked out to the sidewalk to wait for her Sire. She was kicking absent mindedly at some rocks as he approached. She raised her head to make her apologies and got so far as opening her mouth before his blow sent her toppling backwards to the ground.

Dazed, she looked at Angel. She didn't have time to say anything before he grabbed her by the nape of the neck and proceeded to drag her back to the mansion, dimly registering Willow's frightened scream. She struggled to keep up most of the way. His grip kept her bent half over and blood was still steaming from the deep gash in her lip. She didn't cry. She was too afraid to cry. Had Angelus finally returned? Was she going to die?

Reaching the mansion, Angel continued to drag her inside to the living room. He released her only to throw her onto the couch. She quickly curled herself into a small ball, staring up at him with wide frightened eyes. Her lip was still bleeding, staining her pants as she rested her head on her knees.

"I told you *not* to leave!" he raged.

Buffy didn't answer, she just looked at him like she would expire from fear at any second.

"I have spoiled you, Buffy," he said, no longer screaming but his voice was still cold as ice. "I have let you do as you pleased. I have encouraged your independence, but I am your Sire. You will follow my orders!"

Again he looked at Buffy for a reply but none was forthcoming.

"I told you to stay here tonight. When I came home you were gone. Why?" he demanded.

When she didn't speak he roared, "Answer me!"

"I ... uh ... I was w-w-with Willow."

"You were with Willow? *NO SHIT* I know you were with Willow, Buffy, I saw you. That does *not* explain why you disobeyed me."

"... uh."

"WHY!"

"Because ... I thought you ... overreacted," she said in a near whisper.

Angel stared at his childe in absolute disbelief. She should have thought up some lie. Willow needed to talk, there was a fire, aliens abducted her. No. She had just informed her Sire that she had blatantly disobeyed his direct orders because she thought he had overreacted. She was going to learn exactly what it meant for him to overreact.

The thin thread of rational behavior Angel was clinging to snapped in an instant.

He was on Buffy before she knew what was happening. He grabbed her upper arms, ripping her off of the couch and threw her to the hard stone floor on her stomach. Crouching over her, he pinned her to the floor and ripped her clothes off. Buffy didn't move, screwing her eyes shut tightly as her body shook in terror.

When she was nude, Angel crouched over her in vamp face, biting deeply into the nape of her neck. Supporting his weight on one arm, he used the opposite hand to undo the fly of his black pants. Underneath him, Buffy whimpered, instinctively spreading her thighs and lifting her ass in the air for him.

With absolutely no preamble, Angel thrust inside his childe. She was wet, ready for him. Her demon was excited by its Sire's forceful claiming despite the soul's fear. Angel set a rough pace, reveling in the knowledge that bruises were forming on her hips as he drove her into the floor. He drew deeply from the gashes he'd made in her nape, partially rending the flesh. He roared loudly in pleasure as he came, pounding into his childe's bruised flesh.

As Angel recovered, it was evident Buffy was unconscious, due to lack of blood. It wouldn't kill her. Blood loss could eventually lead to death if he left her like that for too long. He didn't intend to, he just wanted to teach her a lesson.

Pulling out of her body and standing, Angel shrugged out of his shirt, throwing it over Buffy's nude form as he refastened his pants. Eyeing her appreciatively, he stepped over her body and went into the kitchen for blood.

Angel knew what he would find when he returned to the living room. He'd sensed Giles presence almost a minute earlier. Without shame he walked into the room, carefully eyeing the former Watcher and his crossbow.

"Are you Angelus?" Giles asked, his hand shaking visibly.

Angel wasn't sure his answer would make a lot of difference. Giles was in a rage. He wasn't really scared of the Watcher, truth was he didn't pose much of a threat, but Angel would play along for a while, having no desire to make an enemy.

"No," he answered with absolute calm.

Giles couldn't believe the scene before him. To his surprise, he didn't doubt that it was Angel he was speaking to. After Willow's frantic phone call and then the horror of finding Buffy's abused, unconscious body, he had been sure of Angelus' return. But now ... the posture, the expression, the tone of voice all indicated Angel, not his demonic alter ego.

"Who did this?" he demanded, afraid to touch the former Slayer's body.

"I did," Angel answered flatly.

"You?"

"Yes."

Giles raised the crossbow that he had absent mindedly lowered moments before. He aimed it straight at Angel's heart.

"You're not evil but you could do *this* to the woman that you love?" he spat.

"Yes."

Giles just stared at him in horror. "What is wrong with you?" he bellowed.

"Nothing is wrong with me," Angel explained calmly. "I was disciplining my errant childe. It is my right. I am her Sire. You should know this."

"Know?" Giles raged. "What I *know* is that she is a child. Vampire or not she is just a girl and you – the man she loves – have just raped and brutalized her! How is this your *right*, Angel? She may technically be a vampire, but she has a human soul. She will not understand this. It will crush her!"

Angel flinched visibly. He looked at the crumpled form the Watcher now guarded. He had been so angry at her. He hadn't been out of line as a Sire disciplining a childe, but Giles was right, she still had the soul of a young girl. Her demon may have understood and enjoyed the lesson but Buffy herself could have been irreparably harmed.

"I ... " he said, searching for the words. "I didn't think, I just ... she disobeyed me ... I just wanted to keep her safe."

"Safe!" Giles said in astonishment. "You wanted to keep her safe so you publicly attacked her, dragged her forcibly halfway across town and then raped and beat her. To keep her safe?"

Mindless of Giles' crossbow, Angel crouched next to Buffy's body. Very gently he lifted her form into his arms and held her to his chest, burying his face in her hair.

Giles allowed it, knowing the only way he could have prevented it would have been to kill Angel. He didn't want to do that. Buffy may have been damaged by this, but if he killed her Sire, she may never recover.

His anger slightly tempered, Giles asked, "What exactly were you trying to keep her safe from?"

"Spike."

"WHAT?"

Angel met the Watcher's gaze. "Spike's back in town. I haven't seen him yet, but I can feel him. Buffy can too. She's been fixating on him, talking about how lonely he must be. I was afraid that if she went out alone that she would try and find him, or he might try to find her. I don't want that. I don't want Spike anywhere near her. Buffy doesn't understand how dangerous he can be to her, especially since she is now his younger sibling."

Giles nodded in agreement. This was serious. While he was appalled at what Angel had done to prove his point, he understood the need to keep the former Slayer away from the blonde vampire. As her older sibling, Spike could exert a great deal of influence over Buffy. She didn't know what she was getting into.

"I see," the Watcher finally said, disgusted with the truth of his words.

After several long minutes of silence, Angel spoke. "Giles, you have to understand. I wasn't trying to hurt Buffy, I just ... she has to obey me. If she doesn't I'm afraid she may get hurt or killed. I'm trying to keep her safe."

Giles regarded the dark vampire closely. "I know. But remember Buffy isn't like your other childer, Angel. She has a human soul. I know that you do too, but you had a century and a half of demon memories and behavior to guide you. Buffy doesn't. She may not understand. Be gentle with her."

Angel nodded.

Standing to leave, Giles asked, "She will be all right, won't she?"

"Yes, she'll be fine, tomorrow you won't even be able to tell any of this happened."

Buffy regained consciousness slowly, like she was swimming up through layers and layers of clouds. She eventually became aware that she was warm, huddled against something smooth and rumbly and she was feeding.

Slowly pulling her head back from his neck, she looked at her Sire, licking her lips free of the blood that still clung there. He stopped purring. He looked a bit sheepish and relieved, and more pale than usual. She remembered what had happened.

"Are you done?" he asked calmly.

"Yes," she said slowly, her tongue running along her bottom lip, searching for the gash that had been there earlier.

She was not surprised to find that the gash had healed. Sire blood was like that, it could heal almost anything. Something as superficial as a cut lip vanished instantly. She assumed from his peaked pallor that she must have taken quite a bit, and he'd let her. His question implying that if she wasn't done that he would have allowed her to feed more. For a moment she was tempted to amend her answer. Maybe he'd pass out this time and then she could beat the crap out of him.

Sensing the anger within his childe, Angel unwrapped his arms from her and allowed her to move away from him. She sat up and scooted to the foot of the bed, unashamed of her nudity.

"What was that all about earlier?" she asked.

"I was angry," he said, unwilling to give in to his guilt. He had been justified in his behavior.

"And so you decided to beat the crap out of me and fuck me into the floor?" she asked incredulously

"Yes."

"What the fuck!" Buffy yelled, throwing the first handy object at her Sire. It just so happened the first handy object was a pillow so it didn't really have the desired affect.

"Buffy, I'm sorry if I scared you."

"But not sorry that you did it," she noted ruefully.

"No. I'm not," he admitted. "It is well within my rights as a Sire to discipline my childer as I see fit."

"Discipline me? I'm not a dog you're trying to paper train, Angel."

"I know. I also know that Spike's presence is a very serious issue. I know I discussed it at length with you and you agreed to stay away from him. I also know you promised not to leave the house without me. I know you disobeyed me, lied to me, and put yourself in danger."

Buffy stared down into her lap. It was true. She had blatantly lied to Angel. She completely disregarded his rules and his fears.

"It's done, Buffy."

"Huh?" she said meeting his gaze.

"I said 'it's done'. This is how vampire relations are. You've been disciplined. All is forgiven and forgotten."

"That's it?" she asked in disbelief. Nuh, uh. This was way better than her parents' discipline. All she had to do was let Angel knock her around and fuck her and she could do whatever she wanted. Go Buffy!

"Except for the fact that you still are forbidden to leave the house without me."

"Great," Buffy replied caustically.

"Well, why don't you come over here and we'll make it all better."

"Oh, so *we* can make it all better by letting *you* fuck *me*. That sounds great," she said sarcastically.

"Well, what do you have in mind?"

"I was thinking about tying you up and beating the crap out of you!" she spat.

"Okay."

"Huh?"

"You want to tie me up and torture me a little. That's fine," he said baldly.

Buffy stared at Angel in disbelief. He couldn't actually be serious. She really wanted to get even with him but she wasn't sure she *really* wanted to get even with him.

"Demons like pain, Buffy," he explained, taking her innocence into consideration. "So long as you don't do any serious damage, it could be enjoyable for both of us."

Buffy's brain wasn't working. It couldn't be. Angel couldn't seriously be suggesting this. "Like pain?"

"Yes, Buffy. You should know that by now. Why do you think you were sopping wet for me when I fucked you in the living room? Your demon liked me being rough. You were aroused even though you were scared."

Buffy didn't know how to react to his words. Somewhere inside her she knew they were true. Was she sick? People shouldn't be sexually excited by pain, should they? It just seemed like she was getting kinkier by the second, and so was Angel. There was *so* much he hadn't bothered to share with her before she was turned. He *liked* to be tortured. Hello? Of course at the moment that particular prospect was very exciting to her. If he'd mentioned it before she'd been turned she probably would have run screaming.

Feeling brazen, Buffy lifted her gaze to meet her Sire's. "Okay, got any chains?"

"Of course I have chains," Angel answered with wicked calm, as if Buffy had just asked him for a glass of water.

"Fine, show me where," Buffy said boldly, a bit shocked by her demeanor, but unwilling to back down. She was pissed. She had every intention of getting even with him for his treatment of her and if she had to tie him up to do it, so be it. He made his bed and he would lie in it.

"Yes, Mistress," Angel answered much to Buffy's surprise.

Rising nude from the bed, he offered Buffy a hand, guiding her along beside him. She followed as he led her to a wing of the mansion they usually avoided. Buffy assumed it must have been where Angelus stayed the year before. Big surprise that sick bastard had been into chains.

"May I?" he asked, pointing to a door Buffy had yet to see opened.

"Yes," she answered. She had initially nodded her assent, but since he was playing submissive and wouldn't look at her face, he hadn't seen it.

Using a set of keys he'd procured from the bedroom, Angel unlocked the heavy wooden door. The room was dark and even with her phenomenal night vision, Buffy couldn't make out the contents of the room. Angel entered, leaving her at the threshold. As he lit the myriad of candles in the room, Buffy's eyes widened in shock.

It was a torture chamber. Not one of those things that experimental couples set up when they want to play with s/m, but an honest to God torture chamber. Something straight out of the Spanish Inquisition. Buffy cringed at the thought of the damage Angelus had undoubtedly inflicted in this room. She could smell the lingering scent of stale blood and refused to allow herself to wonder about what exactly had transpired in this room.

"The chains are over here, Mistress" Angel said, pointing to several sets of heavy gage steel rings bolted right into the stone with chains and manacles hanging from them. He kept his head bowed when he addressed her, not meeting her gaze. The steel rings were bolted in twos, positioned at varying heights. Some were on the floor, others several feet off of the ground, there were even some bolted into the ceiling.

Buffy licked her suddenly dry lips. The scene was oddly ... arousing. She could feel herself getting wet at the idea of restraining her mate. She didn't intend to *really* hurt him, so this was okay, right?

"How do you want me, Mistress?" he asked, his voice husky. He could smell her arousal and it thrilled him. He so desperately wanted to her play with him.

There was a set of chains right at shoulder height for him. How convenient, she thought. Then it crossed her mind that Angelus and Drusilla may have used them as well, hence the perfect fit.

Fuck it, they were there, they were the right height. She was going to use them. Buffy pushed him face first against the wall and fastened the manacles around his wrists. She noted, with interest, that he was breathing heavily.

"Stay," she ordered. The length of chain wasn't very long, only several inches so he was unable to move very far from the cold stone surface.

"Yes, Mistress," he replied dutifully.

"I'm assuming you have other toys in here," Buffy said rather clinically.

"Yes, Mistress. Against the east wall," Angel replied, motioning his bowed head towards a large wooden cabinet that took up half of the wall.

Pulling the doors open, Buffy smothered a gasp of shock. There were hundreds of various implements in the cabinet, some of which she could only guess at the use for. There were whips, crops, paddles, knives, lengths of rope and wire, blindfolds, gag balls, dildos, vibrators, cock rings, some other things that were meant to be inserted somewhere, bottles of lubricant, alcohol, salt, branding irons. Holy shit! She'd always taken Angelus for a sick s.o.b., but she hadn't been prepared for this.

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. She wasn't going to be swayed. She wanted to punish Angel and by gods she was going to do it. Grabbing several items from the cabinet she returned to her captive mate. Laying her plunder down on a nearby table, she grabbed a chair and situated it behind him. Standing on the chair, she was tall enough to securely fasten the blindfold around Angel's eyes.

"Mistress –" he started.

"Quiet!" she snapped.

He immediately responded, closing his mouth and bowing his head. He was going to be submissive. Just what she wanted. She might not have been so smug if she had known it was just what he wanted as well.

Buffy moved the chair back against the far wall and grabbed a crop. Standing behind her Sire, she assessed the situation. She could see the muscles in his back and thighs tense. He was trying to figure out what she was doing. As he turned his head around towards her, she smacked the crop down hard against his buttocks.

"Face straight ahead," she ordered.

He obeyed without comment. She watched with interest as the swath of skin where she had struck him turned a pale pink. She'd smacked him pretty hard, surely it should have been more visible than that.

"Why isn't the mark red?" she demanded impatiently.

"You took a lot of blood when you fed earlier, Mistress. I don't have the reserves. I won't bruise much this time."

She sighed in disappointment and then caught herself. What was wrong with her? Her lover just informed her that he wouldn't bruise because she'd fed too long from him and she was *disappointed*. She realized with a start that she wanted him to bruise. She wanted to mark him as surely as he had marked her earlier. She wanted him to know that however much she belonged to him that he belonged to her as well.

Raising her arm, she brought the crop down across his back. He tensed under the force of the blow. Buffy's eyes went wide as he raised himself up unconsciously on his toes, trying not to cry out. Perhaps she shouldn't have hit him so hard. Maybe her former Slayer status made her stronger than most vampires. Cautiously, she approached him, surveying the damage. It didn't look too bad, and she noticed that if anything, he was more aroused than he had been earlier. With a smile, she stepped back.

"Make a sound and I'll gag you," she threatened.

Angel nodded dutifully. When she saw that his body had relaxed a bit, she brought the crop up again, smacking him across the upper thighs. She kept reigning blows down on him, hard, but not hard enough to break the skin. Never in the same place twice, and never with the same amount of pressure. Angel was shifting his weight back and forth on the balls of his feet, biting deeply into his lower lip to keep from making any noise.

Buffy stopped. Putting the crop down, she moved closer again, studying her work. There were welts decorating most of the skin between the nape of his neck, and his knees. They would fade by tomorrow, but they looked wonderful. Buffy smiled, and got another idea.

Returning to the cabinet, she found a heavy leather collar with a steel ring dangling from the front of it. Grabbing a length of chain about six inches long with heavy clasps at either end she returned to Angel. Stepping on the stool, she fastened the collar around his neck. No shock when it fit perfectly, it had probably been created specifically for him, or rather for Angelus.

Rather than removing his hands from the manacles, she unhooked the chains that held the manacles into the wall. Stepping off of the chair, she urged Angel back from the wall.

"On your hands and knees," she ordered.

He obeyed without hesitation. She refastened the manacles to a set of rings bolted to the floor, and snapped one end of the extra chain through the ring in his collar and the other end through one of the rings on the floor.

She stepped back to admire the view. He was restrained, his head and hands firmly bolted to the floor. She picked up the paddle she'd procured from the cabinet. Kneeling behind him, she urged his knees apart so that a blow from the paddle would hit his sac as well as his buttocks.

She moved so she was kneeling next to him, and raised the paddle. The first blow shocked him and he cried out, trying desperately not to come from the pain in his testicles. He'd wanted her to play with him, but this was far beyond his wildest imaginings. She wasn't acting like the virgin dominatrix he knew she was, she was acting like a seasoned pro. He was thrilled.

She hit him again, this time higher, the wood impacting only with his tensed buttocks. He yelped again, this time intentionally, wanting to see what she would do. Promptly rising from her kneeling position, she headed straight for the cabinet, procuring a gag ball. It was one of the simpler ones in the cabinet, consisting of a single strip of black leather that buckled behind one of the ears. The ball was some sort of soft rubber, black as well.

She returned to her captive, removing his blindfold. He looked up at her expectantly. She grabbed a handful of hair on the back of his head, forcing his head backwards and his mouth opened. She shoved the gag ball in, quickly buckling the strap firmly.

She wasn't sure why she was being so aggressive. Although he'd yelped, she seriously doubted he was in agony. He was bound, his head lowered towards the floor, his jaws pushed apart by the ball. He looked miserable, but his enormous hard on spoke volumes to the fact that he was enjoying it.

She picked up the last of the toys she'd retrieved from the cabinet. It was a small, very slender braided leather whip. She'd never played with a whip before but she had a natural understanding of weapons. She knew before she ever raised the whip that it would cut him. She wasn't planning on using it more than once.

Standing behind him she brought the whip down in a line parallel to his spine. It began just below his shoulders and ended at his lower back. As she knew it would, the whip cut his skin and the resulting score welled with blood. Kneeling behind him between his legs, she bent forward over his back, lapping at the blood as it pooled. He moaned around the gag ball, arching into her touches. Reaching around him she began to pump his cock as she lapped at his cool skin.

Angel couldn't take much more. He was already incredibly aroused and when she started moving her tiny hand on his raging erection, he came almost immediately, his shout of release muffled by the ball.

Buffy continued to lick his back until he had recovered. Unable to support their combined weight, he sank to the floor on his stomach. Buffy moved back as he collapsed, rising to her feet. Reaching down, she removed the manacles, collar, and gag.

"Go feed," she ordered, "and then join me in bed."

Angel was exhausted, spent, but he was not about to disobey her. He moved to his feet as quickly as he could and padded from the room.

He hurried, but Buffy had already been waiting for a good while when he came to bed. She looked sleepy, lounging amidst the sea of covers. When she saw him, she opened her arms, urging him to join her in bed.

He slipped into her embrace, trying to gage her mood. It seemed the game was over as she snuggled eagerly against his chest, assuming a submissive posture.

"Are you all right?" she asked, her head still buried in his chest, unable to meet his gaze. She was deeply embarrassed by her actions and more than a little afraid she'd gone overboard.

"I'm fine," he replied, kissing the top of her head and squeezing her gently.

She looked up at him shyly. He seemed to be serious.

"But I hurt you," she said, trying to roll him over to look at the damage.

He wouldn't let her see, afraid she would find it upsetting. He rolled onto his back, preventing her from looking. Gently caressing her face, he smiled warmly at her.

"I promise I'm okay, Buffy. I enjoyed it. Did you?"

"You *really* liked it?" she asked skeptically. She studied his body carefully, noticing the large bruise on his scrotum.

He pulled her hand away from where it rested on his thigh, drawing her attention back to his face.

"I said I liked it. Did you like it?"

She bowed her head, biting her lower lip, but nodded yes.

"Good," he said, "then we both had fun."

Buffy looked at him warily.

"Pain is just another form of stimulation. Almost all vampires and some humans really enjoy it."

"But isn't it wrong? I shouldn't want to do you harm."

"You weren't going to harm me, Buffy. We were playing. It may have been a rather rough game, but we were playing."

Buffy's expression softened a bit. Angel leaned in to kiss her.

"Let me show you how much I enjoyed it," he said softly against her lips.

He pulled his lover against his body. She was still very aroused. She'd been wet the entire time she'd been disciplining him but she hadn't found release. She moaned softly, rubbing against him as he helped her straddle him.

Without much fanfare, he impaled her tiny body on his cock. She ground down on him uncontrollably and he thrust up into her softness. The pressure she was exerting on him was irritating the bruised flesh of his sac, stimulating him more and more.

They arched against each other in a languid rhythm, Buffy clenching and unclenching her vaginal muscles around his invading flesh. Reaching down to where their bodies joined, Angel used his thumb to circle around her clit. In no time, Buffy's body was beginning to convulse as her orgasm washed over her. Seeing his lover in the throes of ecstasy, Angel let himself go, coming in little spurts inside her body.

Buffy collapsed wearily against him. It had been a *long* night. They rested that way, still joined for a while, until Angel pulled back the covers and situated them both snugly beneath.

"I love you," she heard him whisper as she drifted off to sleep.

The End

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