Fanged Four Moments
More drabbling ficlety stuff for my memories.
No one told him there'd be days...
by FemailoftheSpecies
Fanged Four Moments
Kinda R-ish
It’s moments like these that have him questioning his sanity. He knows he has stepped into a bizarre world where the rules are skewed and logic is a fanciful thing, but this is just ridiculous.
Really.
William tugs on the chains, not too concerned about the cool iron manacles as they dig into his wrists. The pain is minimal, not so much a bother as it is a pleasurable sting that ignites that blossoming evil in him. With another yank and a sigh, he is finally convinced she has cast one of her spells to make the metal stronger.
She does that sort of thing often, much to his initial disbelief. There is no such thing as magic. The mantra runs through his head still, a nightly drill, even after two months of seeing, of being a vampire, something magical himself.
Tensing, he feels it when his brute of a grandsire approaches the bed, like ice trickling down his spine. Silent one, he is.
“Willy, I see our Drusilla’s been playing again,” Angelus states slowly, the words curling around him like smoke as he strolls around the bed.
Inside, the new vampire’s nerves bristles, but doesn’t bother correcting him about his name. He is the one who’s face down, tied eagle-spread and in no position to incite the anger of a maniac.
“Angelus, how was the hunt?” Polite conversation may distract him and is worth a try. Where the hell is Dru?
“Slim pickin’s this evening. Because of the cold, I’d guess. And you? How did she get you like this again?”
He hates that Angelus is seeing him like this. There’s no telling what ideas are creeping into that depraved head of his. William feels his hot gaze raking over him, accessing and calculating, making his skin prickle. It takes every ounce of demonic determination not to scream for his sire.
“Do ya hear me, Will?”
Nodding and annoyed by his quick compliance, he replies. “She’s very crafty when she has a mind to be, Angelus.” That is a lesson that William is learning slowly; that those sweet smiles usually hide something sinister and often uncomfortable in his future.
“Aye, she is a wicked thing. It’s one of the things that I admire about her. The contradiction.” The older demon moves closer, breathing him in, his fingertips grazing over the nicely-rounded buttocks, snickering when William wiggles, to get away or get more of the touch, neither of them really know.
Suddenly, he stops and brings his hand between the cheeks, feeling to be sure. “Did she ask…”
“If I like candles? Yeah, she did,” William grumbles, mortified, trying to ignore the wax phallus currently wedged up his ass.
Her return is noisy, skirts swishing to announce her presence. She gives Angelus an obligatory peck on the cheek, but her flawed attention is on the trussed vampire. “I’ve found the matches, dearie. Now we can start the game.”
Angelus backs out of the room, laughing as he closes the door behind him and William swallows hard before screaming loud.
No one told him there'd be days...
by FemailoftheSpecies
Fanged Four Moments
Kinda R-ish
It’s moments like these that have him questioning his sanity. He knows he has stepped into a bizarre world where the rules are skewed and logic is a fanciful thing, but this is just ridiculous.
Really.
William tugs on the chains, not too concerned about the cool iron manacles as they dig into his wrists. The pain is minimal, not so much a bother as it is a pleasurable sting that ignites that blossoming evil in him. With another yank and a sigh, he is finally convinced she has cast one of her spells to make the metal stronger.
She does that sort of thing often, much to his initial disbelief. There is no such thing as magic. The mantra runs through his head still, a nightly drill, even after two months of seeing, of being a vampire, something magical himself.
Tensing, he feels it when his brute of a grandsire approaches the bed, like ice trickling down his spine. Silent one, he is.
“Willy, I see our Drusilla’s been playing again,” Angelus states slowly, the words curling around him like smoke as he strolls around the bed.
Inside, the new vampire’s nerves bristles, but doesn’t bother correcting him about his name. He is the one who’s face down, tied eagle-spread and in no position to incite the anger of a maniac.
“Angelus, how was the hunt?” Polite conversation may distract him and is worth a try. Where the hell is Dru?
“Slim pickin’s this evening. Because of the cold, I’d guess. And you? How did she get you like this again?”
He hates that Angelus is seeing him like this. There’s no telling what ideas are creeping into that depraved head of his. William feels his hot gaze raking over him, accessing and calculating, making his skin prickle. It takes every ounce of demonic determination not to scream for his sire.
“Do ya hear me, Will?”
Nodding and annoyed by his quick compliance, he replies. “She’s very crafty when she has a mind to be, Angelus.” That is a lesson that William is learning slowly; that those sweet smiles usually hide something sinister and often uncomfortable in his future.
“Aye, she is a wicked thing. It’s one of the things that I admire about her. The contradiction.” The older demon moves closer, breathing him in, his fingertips grazing over the nicely-rounded buttocks, snickering when William wiggles, to get away or get more of the touch, neither of them really know.
Suddenly, he stops and brings his hand between the cheeks, feeling to be sure. “Did she ask…”
“If I like candles? Yeah, she did,” William grumbles, mortified, trying to ignore the wax phallus currently wedged up his ass.
Her return is noisy, skirts swishing to announce her presence. She gives Angelus an obligatory peck on the cheek, but her flawed attention is on the trussed vampire. “I’ve found the matches, dearie. Now we can start the game.”
Angelus backs out of the room, laughing as he closes the door behind him and William swallows hard before screaming loud.