*************FALLEN ANGELS*******

Part 3       The Rules

******

"What was that? I didn't hear you lover." Angelus said with a smirk.

"Yes, I'll become your consort," Willow whispered closing her eyes.

"Spike," his voice was low and Willow looked up at him, shocked to find
his chocolate gaze firmly fixed on her.

"Yes, Angelus," Spike sauntered through the open doorway, casting a half
smirk in Willow's general direction before turning his full attention to
his sire.

"Tell them," he stated calmly and held out his hand. Spike reached
into one of the multitudes of pockets in his duster and pulled out a
black velvet jewellery box and handed it over to his sire. "Then I
want you to organise Sierra's. We'll be there in an hour."

Willow frowned. Sierra's was one of the most exclusive department
stores in Sunnydale and they certainly weren't open during the small
hours of Sunday morning. She watched silently as Spike spoke softly
to Angelus for a few moments, Angelus had opened the box and was
fingering what ever it hid from her, nodding and agreeing to whatever
Spike was asking and then Spike turned, with a dramatic flare of his
duster and she was once more alone with Angelus. He tossed the velvet
box onto the wingchair before turning his full attention back to Willow.

"Strip," the order was barked out and Willow's head shot up to meet his
gaze. Slowly she started to shake her head. Angelus' face remained
cold. "Strip, or I'll rip your clothes off and you can go about naked
until I send you back to your parents house."

<Home,> amended Willow to herself as she broke his gaze. Except it
wasn't home anymore. It was as Angelus had said - her parents' house.
That was when the enormity of the situation hit her; she was no longer
an individual able to make her own choices. She had given herself
completely to a master vampire. A master vampire who was waiting for
her to strip. Slowly, reluctantly she began to take her clothes
off. With every piece of clothing that fell to the floor a part of
her shattered and collapsed. Her bottom lip trembled, her throat
tightened and she could feel the hot tears burning behind her eyes.

"There is no room for tears, Willow," Angelus growled as he watched.
"They are a waste, so spare them. I don't want to see them."

Willow kept her eyes steadily on the floor and swallowed back the lump
in her throat as she wriggled out of her underwear. Instinctively her
hands and arms tried to shield her body from Angelus' unrelenting
stare.

"Stop trying to be modest, little girl," he leant in and whispered in
her ear. Slowly he began to circle her, chuckling slightly. "I've
seen it all before. Keep your hands by your side and raise your head,
I don't want you looking at the floor like some whipped boy."

Willow raised her head, taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm
herself. She could feel him, his fully clothed body only a few inches
from hers as he continued to circle her, his eyes roaming over her body,
taking in every little detail, every curve, every scar.

"I like your skin," he whispered from behind her, the words leaving a
feather light touch on her naked shoulders. "So pale, so
perfect...it's almost luminous and such a contrast to your hair.
Red. A glorious colour, almost like blood..."

He purred the word, letting it roll about the room. Willow shuddered
in a strange mixture of fear and longing. He continued to survey her
naked body, circling slowly, his voice and words were hypnotic, dulling
her fear, making her body crave something only he could give.

"Legs and arms, so long and slender. Your legs are perfect, blending
into your ass, so soft and feminine. A slim waist a beautiful back, I
could happily spend hours drawing and sketching on your back, it's like
a blank canvas, smooth and pale. Framed by your shoulders, perfect.
Of course your back is nothing compared to your front, a beautiful
stomach dimpled by your navel. Cute. Then there are those beautiful
pert breasts. Soft and subtle, round and sweet, pretty little pink
nipples setting them off."

Willow couldn't see anything anymore, her vision blinded by the hypnotic
haze of erotica that Angelus' words and voice had created. As he
spoke of her body it responded, blood rushed through her, warming her,
setting her nerve endings on fire. Her whole body ached to be touched
and her mind had long ago shut down, lust and need easily overriding
fear and loathing.

"But all those are nothing compared to your face..." Angelus whispered,
his fingers hovering millimetres above her cheek, his thumb caressing
the air above her lips. Willow trembled, she could feel those phantom
fingers on her skin, leaving a burning imprint. "Sweet lips, soft and
moist, hiding the treasure trove that's your mouth, your warm tongue,
your honey sweet essence. And your soul, your being...your eyes..."

He gazed deep into those unseeing green orbs and smirked to himself.

"They show everything you are, your weaknesses, your strengths, your
hatred..." he paused for a moment, his fingers finally making contact
with her flushed face, sliding along the cheek and tangling in her hair,
pulling her head back. "Your love..."

Willow whimpered at the fingers massaging her scalp, bringing her out of
the world he had created with his words, his lips were brushing across
hers, a soft chaste kiss. Sighing she closed her eyes and waited for
him to kiss her. He didn't. With a growl his free arm snaked about
her waist and dragged her hard against him as his fingers tightened in
her hair and his fangs sank into her neck.

Taking a half screaming deep breath she clutched blindly at his clothes,
pain shattering any erotic illusions he may have created. Her fingers
dug in deep, her eyes filled with tears and she screamed out as he fed
from her, hungrily, greedily, possessively. Her scream added to his
pleasure and he pulled her in tighter against him. As the scream died
on her lips he released her, pushing her back and causing her to
collapse on the floor in a sobbing heap.

Angelus turned away from her and picked up the velvet box he had
previously abandoned. Opening it, he pulled out an elaborate choker
worked in a series of fine Celtic knots. Discarding the box again he
squatted down in front of Willow roughly pulling her hair out of the way
and fastening the necklace. Her hands flew up to her neck, feeling
the confines of the tight choker, her green tear filled eyes met with
his chocolate brown.

"You don't ever take it off, unless I tell you to," he stated standing
up. "You have five minutes to get dressed. We're going out."

***

They were sitting in the private show rooms of Sierra's. Willow had
often heard of these rooms, Cordelia had boasted that she was amongst
the exclusive few who were privy to this type of service, customers were
waited upon and the items they were interested in were bought to them
and modelled in the privacy of these lavish rooms. Sure but at 2am on
a Sunday morning? She glanced about at the things Angelus had chosen
so far, clothes, cosmetics, shoes and other bits and pieces. Willow
hadn't said anything, she was still in shock of what was happening, what
had happened. But now, some two hours after she, Angelus and Spike had
sat down in this room, she just had to say something as Angelus surveyed
the various items of underwear being modelled.

"What makes you think I'm actually going to wear any of these things?"
she asked, finding it ridiculous that he merely assumed she would.

Angelus ignored her, passing on various instructions to the staff of
what he wanted. Spike turned and shot her a withering scowl.
Crossing her arms she frowned. "You can buy them, but you're wasting
your money."

She didn't even see it coming. His hand shot out and slapped her hard
across the cheek, sending her reeling back in the chair she was sitting
in. Gasping in shock she bought her own hand up to cradle her
stinging cheek and looked at him. It was if nothing had happened, he
was still talking to the staff and they seemed unconcerned over his
action. Willow felt the tears spill onto her cheek, hot and angry.
Bitterly she wiped them away and stood up, his hand shot out grabbed her
wrist, almost crushing it.

"Sit," he spat at her.

Willow frowned at him, her breath coming in short gasps. She fought
against his hold on her wrist and instantly regretted it. He stood up
and yanked her to him, his fingers tangling in her hair yanking it back
forcing her to look at him. He released her wrist and slapped her
again with enough force to send her sprawling to the ground, her
shoulder colliding with the chair she had been sitting in. She
dissolved in a flood of tears. Calmly he sat back down and motioned
for them to continue. Casually he glanced down at her and smirked.
"Don't waste your tears. You can stay there until we are ready to
leave."

After an hour of staying in that demeaning position Angelus ordered her
up and they left, returning to the mansion half an hour before
sunrise. Angelus led her back up to the rooms and pushed her into the
bedroom.

"Sleep," he stated quietly, looking her over. "We have people coming
at three. You'll wear what is put out for you."

With that he turned on his heel and left her alone. Spike woke her at
2 with breakfast and instructions to bathe and dress in the slip dress
Angelus had left for her. Three o'clock saw her pacing the confines
of the sitting room when the door opened and Spike ushered in a small
army of people. Willow raised an eyebrow. They turned out to be a
beautician, who waxed anything and everything that could be waxed, while
working out her skin type, giving her a full facial and eyelash tint.

The next in line was a hairdresser, who worked silently in styling her
hair, cutting it into long layers and framing her face while the
beautician gave her a full manicure and pedicure. They were just
about to leave when Angelus walked in, casting a smirk at Spike who was
lounging in one of the chairs watching the proceedings with a bored
expression on his face.

"Have they explained everything to you?" Angelus asked Willow, who
stared blankly at him. "Spike?"

"She's been told how to look after her hair and that woman," he waved
offhandedly at the beautician. "Raved endlessly about cleansing and
moisturising and all that crap...so yes, she's been told."

Willow stared at Angelus. He had to be joking, he expected her to
stick to some beauty routine like she was Cordelia? She was about to
open her mouth to say something when she remembered the error of doing
that at Sierra's. So she made do with casting him deadly stake filled
stares. He laughed at her as he wandered over to the rosewood table
and picked up the various tubes and jars that the beautician recommended
for her.

"We'll need two of everything," he stated to the professionals
entourage.

"Why?" asked Willow and cringed back, waiting for him to strike out at
her again.

"One for here and one for your parents house," he told her taking a seat
in the green leather chair, watching as the hairdresser and beautician
finished up. "And you will use them. If you don't, I'll beat you
black and blue."

Willow bit her bottom lip, she had no doubt after last night that he
would do it. Leaning back into the chair he watched her, his fingers
steepling beneath his chin. Clenching his jaw he stretched out his
arms, casually resting one of his ankles on his knee.

"Is the car ready?" Angelus asked Spike, not taking his eyes off Willow.

"Yes and the clothes you want her to keep at her parents house are in
the trunk."

Angelus grunted, smiling slightly at the growing look of annoyance on
Willow's face. "Let's go then."

Another few bags were handed to Angelus, Willow assumed they contained
the cosmetics he was so insistent that she use and Spike mock bowed to
her, indicating for her to follow Angelus. Scowling she pushed
herself away from the chair and followed him through the mansion. The
car trip was spent in silence and once they had gotten to her house she
had been told to invite them both in, which she did.

"Well, this is..." Spike looked about the bedroom with it's soft toys
and brightly coloured interior. "Fluffy."

"Not as fluffy as this," stated Angelus pulling open her wardrobe and
shaking his head. Gleefully he reached in and picked up one of her
favourite sweaters. His fingers almost lovingly caressed the material
before he shrugged and effortlessly tore it in half.

"No," cried out Willow trying to stop him. His arm lashed out and
easily caught her about the waist, snagging her to him, vainly she
struggled.

"You don't ever tell me no, Willow," he snarled, reaching in with his
free hand pulling out a set of overalls, tearing at them, shredding the
fabric. "That's a lesson I thought you would have learnt by now."

He shoved her back and started to pull the clothes from the closet.
Easily ripping them in half or shredding the material, making them
unwearable.

"You will be home by 9pm every night, do you understand?" he glared at
her, she mutely nodded in agreement, fighting back the tears. "You
will do everything you are told, no questions asked."

He continued to shred her clothes, indicating for Spike to start on her
drawers. She was mortified as the blonde vampire chuckled over the
contents of her underwear drawer.

"You will wear what you are told to. You will not tell anyone about
our arrangement otherwise the agreement is null and void..." he paused
for a moment to stare her down, cruelty flashing through his eyes.
"Although you will still belong to me. You answer only to me, but
Spike will fetch you. When you are in his care you will obey him.
Do you understand Willow?"

Willow stared at them both and the shredded remains of the life she had
been leading. She was angry, she was pissed and she was totally
powerless. She sat on the edge of her bed, defeated. Speaking softly,
she said, "Yes, Angelus, I understand."
 

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