Rating: NC-17, extreme violence, sex BDSM
Pairing: W/Angelus, D/Angelus
Summary: Willow learns some lessons in pain.
Spoilers: Series begins just after ‘Lover’s Walk’, now a couple of years have passed, and we’re just at the beginning of season six now.
Disclaimer: I did not build the Buffyverse that would be Joss, it is merely my playground.
Distribution: If you want it, fine by me, just drop me a line first.
Special Thanks: Kat for checking over my ramblings and Aden for always being happy to see me.
Feedback: Pretty please with sugar on top!
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The trio walked the narrow Vienna alleys together, Angelus with his arms wrapped possessively around Drusilla and Willow’s shoulders. A stocky, balding man scooted by in the other direction; staring longingly at the two beautiful women, eliciting a warning growl from Angelus.
“How am I supposed to find someone to eat, if you keep scaring them away?” Drusilla pouted, slapping him lightly on the chest.
“Don’t worry, darlin’, I’ve got something special planned for us tonight.”
The dark vampiress shuddered with anticipation at her daddy’s words, but Willow shuddered for an entirely different reason. All week she had spent with Angelus, going over the finer points of torture. Many he had demonstrated on her, leaving her feeling bruised and broken all over. However, with the exception of the one time on her thigh, he had never bitten her, and never subjected her to anything that would leave scars. Like Spike, he wanted her to be in tip top shape when he turned her, which he was planning on doing as soon as she had her full revenge.
Angelus liked the idea of the tiny mortal hunting, torturing, and killing her friends, enemies, and even family. If he turned her before it was through, he would never know if it was really she who had done these things, or her demon. So, he would wait. In the meantime, he had taught her about the joys of electricity, especially when combined with water. He also taught her about weapons, and how to kill slowly. There was so much to learn, things involving bamboo, ice, toothpicks, bicycle spokes, and much more. The most important thing he had taught her though, was to use your surroundings, be creative and most of all, have fun with it. After all, what fun was torture really if you didn’t take the time to enjoy it? Tonight, however, was to be her most important lesson of all, the one to determine whether or not she was ready.
As Angelus maneuvered them around the cheerfully lit area of restaurants and cafes, he finally saw what he was looking for. He released his companions and began stalking his prey. Willow hated going on the hunt with him, because his pleasure at the suffering of his victims was too much for her. Unlike the drooling, womanizing men that Drusilla fed off of, she felt sorry for the doe eyed innocent ones that Angelus preferred. But, he had insisted that she join him tonight, told her it was her final lesson. Still, when she saw the mother and child strolling down the street, carrying some brightly colored shopping bags, Willow knew whatever lesson this was to be, she did not want to learn it.
Angelus strolled up to the pair, and asked the woman with his most charming voice, although in terrible German, where a nearby street was. He then feigned confusion, until finally the woman, completely taken in by the suave man, offered to show him the way. Drusilla and Willow followed from a safe distance, undetected. Once they were away from all the noise and people of their previous location, Angelus snatched up the child with one strong arm, and grabbed the woman with the other, effectively covering her mouth to quiet her as she struggled in terror, hitting him with her bags. He dragged the squirming pair behind a building where they could be alone and waited for Drusilla and Willow to catch up. When they finally appeared, Willow was looking a bit green.
“Okay, little one, time for your last lesson,” Angelus said with a sinister grin, “Choose which one lives, and which one dies.”
Willow stood frozen, unable to comprehend what she was hearing. She wanted no part of this. She didn’t even know these people; she had no reason to wish harm upon them.
“I don’t know what kind of sick game you think this is, but I’m not playing,” she said, turning to go.
“All right, if you want them both to die, keep walking.”
“Why are you doing this?!” Willow turned to scream at him.
“I told you, it’s your final lesson.”
“What lesson?! That you’re a cruel bastard? I already know that,” she spat the words at him bitterly.
“I appreciate the compliment, but this is not about me, it’s about you. Now, choose.”
Willow looked at the struggling pair again. The woman was in her early thirties, slightly plump, with a pretty face. Well, what she could see of it anyway. She had wide terrified eyes, but Willow couldn’t tell their color in the dim light. Her cheeks were flushed from the struggle, and her dark, shoulder length hair was whipping somewhat wildly as she continued to fight. Then Willow glanced over at the child clutched tightly in the other arm. She was young, four maybe. Her hair was the same color as her mother’s, but instead of long and straight, it hung around her head in ringlet curls, like a slightly tussled Shirley Temple. Her eyes were also full of terror, but she did not struggle. In fact, she was barely even crying, there was only a slight tremble of her Cupid’s bow mouth. She was too deeply in shock for anything more. Then, Willow looked again at the soulless thing holding them captive. There was an evil glint in his eyes, his lips pulled back into a cross between a grin and a sneer. The fucking prick was enjoying this, not their suffering, but hers.
“No, I’m not going to choose. You can’t make me.”
“Well, if that’s your final answer,” Angelus’ face shifted to that of his demon visage, although anymore it was difficult for the redhead to tell the difference. He began lifting the little girl toward his mouth, while her mother redoubled her efforts to get free. Never once did he take his eyes off of Willow.
“Wait!” she cried out, then finishing softly, “I choose the mother. Let the child go.”
Willow fixed her gaze on the ground three feet in front of her, unable to look at the scene before her any longer. Angelus laughed triumphantly, sending shivers down her spine and filling her gut with an overwhelming feeling of disgust.
“I knew I could count on you, darlin’.”
He quickly lifted the now struggling child up and tore out her throat with his razor sharp fangs, biting through her windpipe completely so that all she could do was make a soft gurgling sound, as her limbs shuddered briefly then fell limp with death. Her mother, overcome with shock, dropped the shopping bags that she had previously clutched as a weapon. Several toys spilled out as they fell to the ground, a red rubber ball rolling past Willow’s feet. She looked up to see Angelus drop the dead child to the ground. Her eyes were still open, but the rest of her face had gone slack with her death, she was no longer afraid. He also released the mother, who quickly scooped up her broken child, cradling her against her breast and rocking her slightly as she began to wail with heart rending pain.
The sound filled Willow’s ears, making her flinch. She knew this pain all too well. Most days it was all she could do to keep from coming apart, her heart ached so badly. The woman before her would never recover from this, would never get over the injustice of her baby dying before she had ever really been given a chance to live. The redhead didn’t realize she was sobbing; all she could see was her son’s face, surrounded by a halo of red curls. She couldn’t let her suffer, not like she had. Willow approached the woman silently from behind, as sobs continued to rack her body. She grabbed the woman’s head quickly and jerked it to the side with all her strength, snapping her neck with one smooth motion. She released her then, and found some little comfort in knowing they were together again, as the woman’s body slumped to the side, still holding her lifeless child.
Angelus watched the display with something akin to delight. Willow had just killed an innocent, without thought, and judging by her blank stare, without remorse. He didn’t realize she had done it out of pity; compassion was a foreign concept to him. Willow turned her blank stare on him for a moment, and then slowly walked away. Drusilla was torn as to whether she should follow. She had watched the entire event in silence, something that was not easy for her, but she had felt the gravity of the situation and thought it best not to interrupt. Now, she thought the little tree probably wanted some time alone, but the last time she had seen that look on her face, Willow was over the edge and had only just barely made it back. She didn’t want to lose her to the darkness for good; Drusilla knew how frightening it could get when one loses touch with the world. What was it about her daddy that he liked to break little girls so much? She decided she would go after her; she couldn’t have gotten far, and really shouldn’t be alone right now. But as she turned to leave, she felt Angelus’ strong hand on her arm, stopping her.
“Let her go, Dru. She needs to work through this on her own.”
Drusilla turned rage filled eyes on her sire, giving him a hard stare, but did not contradict him. He was her sire, her daddy, and she would obey him, even if she didn’t want to.
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The farther Willow got from the horror she had just participated in, the faster she went, until finally she was moving at a dead run. She ran as if hell itself was chasing her, and in her mind it was. Soon, her legs began to ache, and her lungs burned as she tried to escape the reality her life had become. She didn’t want to think, didn’t want to remember anything but the feeling of her shoes smacking against the pavement as she tried to flee from her life. Eventually though, her body could no longer stand the workout she was putting it through, and she collapsed to the ground, skinning her knees and clutching the stitch in her side.
She rolled off the sidewalk and onto the grass, retching violently. Once she had finished vomiting, she rolled back onto her back, still panting and gasping for breath. The world was spinning, and she closed her eyes tightly to try to push away the feeling of falling, but when she did, all she could see was them, their terrified faces, and the blood pouring from the little girl’s throat. The smell of the blood had congealed in her senses, overwhelming her. She turned quickly and vomited again. She didn’t think she would ever get rid of that smell, or the image of them burned into her retinas. She no longer had to worry about the fate of her soul, she had no soul. Otherwise she never would have simply stood by while Angelus killed that girl. She was no better than him.
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Willow returned just before dawn to find them both waiting for her. Drusilla’s face was a mask of apprehension and concern, but Angelus simply wore a smirk, and a smug one at that. He knew she would be back. He took her hand as she approached, and led her toward the bedroom, indicating to Dru that she would not be joining them this evening. Once he had closed the door, she turned cold eyes on him.
“Strip,” she commanded evenly.
Angelus was not one accustomed to taking orders, but the little spitfire had preformed admirably that evening, she had passed her test with flying colors. She deserved a little indulgence, so he complied. However, when Willow instructed him to lie on the bed, and began to get several neckties from the drawer, he hesitated. She turned to face him, her eyes filling with fire.
“Do not make me tell you again, or I will be forced to punish you.”
Her words were cold and had an edge to them like broken glass. He sensed the danger of the moment, yet he couldn’t fight his mounting desire at the thought of her ‘punishing’ him. He stretched out on the bed, allowing her to bind his wrists and ankles, not hearing the few Latin words she muttered under her breath. The ties were much tighter than he would have expected, as they cut into his flesh. This was payback for the way he always treated her, and he knew it. She looked down on his prone form and smiled, there were just a couple of things missing. She took another tie from the drawer and tied it firmly at the base of his engorged cock; she didn’t want him cumming before her. Then, looking at him again, she began to laugh. She could see the rage passing over his dark features, and it only made her laugh harder.
“What’s so funny?” he asked in a deadly tone.
“You are,” she giggled back, “You look like some sort of twisted birthday present, covered in bows. Oh now, don’t frown like that. You’ll spoil my fun.”
She bent down then to his pile of discarded clothes on the floor, and scooped up his boxers with an evil grin. Angelus saw her pick up the silky underwear, and felt his anger bubble to the surface again.
“Keep those fucking things away from me,” he said harshly.
“Oh come on, baby. I thought you liked this game,” she replied, stalking towards him, “Open up for momma.”
As she said this she grabbed him by the balls and gave them a sharp squeeze. When he opened his mouth to yell, she shoved the black silk boxers into his mouth, giving a whoop of victory. She stalked around the bed a few times then, admiring her work. Actually, she was impressed, despite his obvious humiliation, and the slight abuse he had suffered at her hands, his little soldier was still standing proudly at attention.
She stripped off her clothes and crawled up the bed, perching on top of him like the predator she had become. She reached between his legs, stroking him lightly, and fought down another laugh as she watched his head loll to one side, eyes rolled back with the sensation. Men were so easy. She wanted to dominate him, control him. She trailed her mouth up his chest, alternating between soft kisses and hard nips, not enough to break the skin, just enough to leave a series of small painful welts.
The whole time Angelus struggled to free himself. He was going insane from all the teasing. He needed to take her now, but for some reason was unable to break his bindings, even with his vampiric strength. He did not realize she had placed a quick enchantment on them, making them stronger than steel. He was going nowhere. The more his frustration grew, the more her arousal increased as well. Finally she couldn’t hold out any longer. She straddled his hips, positioning his head at her weeping opening.
“Are you ready, Angelus?”
He nodded his head furiously, making her smile slightly before impaling herself on his rigid cock. She let out a cry of pleasure, while Angelus made muffled whimpering sounds around his gag. Images from earlier that evening began to fill her head as she pounded her flesh into him. She wanted to drive the horrible visions from her mind, as she increased her speed, feeling the bow at the base of Angelus’ cock brush against her clit with every down stroke. She was on complete mental and physical overload as she felt herself nearing the edge. Tears once again began rolling down her face, but they went unnoticed by Angelus, who was concerned only with his now painful erection, completely unable to cum with the tie wrapped tightly around his cock. As he struggled beneath her, the added friction finally sent her over the edge of oblivion, her tight muscles clamping around his erection as she rode out the waves of pleasure.
She collapsed momentarily onto his chest as she attempted to catch her breath. When her ragged gasping finally calmed a bit, she rolled off of him, told him thanks and gave him a light peck on the cheek. Then, grabbing a few things from her bag, she left the bedroom, and headed for the shower, leaving Angelus behind, helpless and in pain.
Drusilla watched with curiosity, as the naked redhead made her way to the bathroom without so much as a word. Once she was safely under the scalding spray of water, Willow broke down completely. She sobbed uncontrollably, as she tried to scrub the dirty feeling from her body. By the time she gave up on the scrubbing, her skin was red and slightly raw. She knew she would never be truly clean again. She had become just like Angelus, cruel. She was a killer, and as such, she would always be tainted.
Drusilla waited for her daddy to come out as well, but he didn’t, and she started to get scared. She didn’t think poppet would stake him, but she wasn’t sure. Drusilla rushed to the bedroom to make sure, only to find him still struggling to get free. She removed the gag from his mouth, doing her best to fight back a giggle.
“My cock, fuck, untie it!”
Dru noticed then that his erection seemed to be turning a dark shade of purple. She quickly untied it, and Angelus let out a loud groan as long ropes of cum shot out, coating his chest and splashing up against his face. His body finally relaxed, sated, while Drusilla undid the rest of his bindings. The whole time she pleaded with him not to kill Willow for what she had done. When at last he was free, he grabbed her by the back of the head, and pulled her face close to his.
“Clean me up,” he instructed, before giving her a quick kiss.
She began by eagerly darting out her cool pink tongue and lapping up his essence from his chin, then worked her way down his chest, until at last she reached his semi-erect cock. She took him into her mouth, enjoying the combined taste of Angelus and Willow. Soon, he was thoroughly aroused again, and pulled her up by the hair, quickly hiking up her skirts and ripping her panties from her body. She was happy to please him; she wanted to take away his wrath. She was more than willing to endure whatever it would take to ensure the little tree’s safety. Angelus pinned her beneath his body, thrusting into her with brutal force, pounding into her, while at the same time, barely aware of her presence. At that moment, all he could see was Willow.
Drusilla clawed at his back as he drove her to the edge, leaving bloody trails in her wake. She could feel the pressure building within her and knew she would not be able to hold on much longer. Using one razor sharp nail, she sliced a small patch of her throat, the blood beginning to flow freely as she pulled Angelus’ mouth to the wound.
“Oh, Angelus, you make the stars bleed!” she screamed out as her orgasm ripped through her body.
Her muscles clamped around his rigid cock like a fist, sending him over the edge after her as she milked his release from him. Finally he collapsed on top of her, panting for unneeded breath. Drusilla lightly stroked his back, enjoying the slick feeling of the blood on his skin from her claw marks; she wished she could stay like this forever, just her and her daddy. But then visions of her redheaded playmate drifted back to her, and again she became concerned. Angelus rolled off of her, and began undoing the buttons of her shirt. He had been in too much of a hurry before to undress her properly, but now that he was a bit calmer, they could take their time. He noticed then that Dru was being uncharacteristically quiet. Usually she was talking to her dolls, or the stars, sometimes even to the people around her. But for the moment, all she was doing was biting her lip and whimpering slightly.
“Dru, darlin’, what’s wrong?”
“You’re going to kill the little tree, aren’t you?”
Angelus threw back his head and laughed, making Drusilla jump. When he calmed his mirth a bit, he looked at her, still barely suppressing a grin.
“Why would I want to kill her? She’s finally one of us.”