Broken, part seven
finally, an update! it's been over a month. *hangs head in shame* but in my defense, february was short.
Title: Broken, Part Seven: Demonic Possessions
Author: girlpire
Rating: NC17 - FRAO
Pairing: Fred/Angelus
Disclaimer: This story is based on the "Angel" series, with which I am not affiliated in any way. Joss Whedon is my master, etc.
Distribution: Please no. kthnxbye. :)
Summary: Fred deals with the consequences of her decision to release Angelus from his cage.
Warnings: Well, it's kind of dark. There's some hitting and other sorts of abuse. I mean, it's Angelus, right? This chapter includes spanking.
Author's Notes: This WIP takes place during season four of "Angel" and season seven of "Buffy."
Table of Contents, Art, and Nominations (updated as each new chapter is posted)
fabulous art by the awesome mods of banner_grab
*
Fred squeezed the water from her hair and stepped out of the shower onto the bathmat. The little bottle of shampoo was running low. Didn't motels have some kind of maid service? She thought they were supposed to replace things like that. Angelus must have told them not to come around. She shook her arms, flinging the water droplets from her skin. Then, feeling slightly ridiculous, she shook her legs one at a time as well. That would explain the lack of towels anyway, although she suspected that Angelus had hidden them from her on purpose.
When he got back, she was going to give him a list of things she needed. It didn't look like he was going to kill her anytime soon, and there are certain things a living person needs to have. A toothbrush, for instance. Rinsing her mouth in the shower just wasn't cutting it, especially now that she was existing pretty much solely on tacos.
She wouldn't hate a stick of deodorant, either.
Maybe a razor.
Floss.
She opened the door to the dressing area and watched as the mirrors over the sink and on the closet door began to fog up. She walked over to the closet door and leaned in close to the mirror, studying the blur of her face. Fog was kind of beautiful on a microscopic level. Thousands of tiny droplets of water reflecting light in thousands of different directions - so brilliant you can't even see through it clearly. She reached up slowly and drew an F in the fog with her fingertip. Then she added an A. And a heart. With an arrow through it.
Then she frowned and dashed it away hard with her hand, the door rattling underneath her palm.
"H-hello?" a weak voice called from within the closet.
Fred blinked. She had forgotten for a moment about the boy behind the door. "Hey," she said.
"Little... um... little naked girl?" he asked.
"It's Fred."
She heard some shifting around behind the door.
"Oh sorry, you... kind of sounded like a girl."
You too, she thought. Out loud, she said, "I am a girl."
"Oh."
She turned away from the closet and opened the small drawer beneath the sink, looking for a comb. It was the same drawer she'd seen Angelus get his hair gel from.
"People in this town have interesting names," the boy said. "I wonder why that is."
"Don't know," she murmured. She was staring down into the drawer. On one side, there was a comb, hair gel, toothpaste, a toothbrush, men's deodorant, a razor, floss, fingernail clippers, and a travel-sized bottle of shaving cream, all arranged neatly. The other side was completely empty, save for a makeup compact and three black hair bands. Hers.
After a few seconds, she took the comb from the drawer and began to use it, eyeing the toothpaste covetously.
"It's dark in here," the boy quietly complained.
"It's night," she told him. "And you're inside a closet."
*
Less than an hour later, Fred found herself sitting on the floor with her back against the closet door mirror, shaving her legs with Angelus' razor and vehemently arguing against the possibility of time travel to what she was sure looked like thin air.
"That's ridiculous!" she was saying, swiping the razor along the side of her thigh. "The most it could realistically accomplish would be to change the direction of everything -- so that if you threw a ball forward, it would go behind you instead. What would be the point of that? And just because Spiderman did it doesn't make it a valid argument." She had filled the ice bucket with warm water and put it at her side, using it to rinse out the razor between strokes.
"It was Superman," sulked the voice from the closet. "And you don't even know the true powers bestowed upon him by his alien heritage."
Fred dunked the razor in the water again with a sigh. There was just no arguing physics with someone who insisted on comic books being legitimate sources of information.
"My neck hurts," the boy said, for probably the billionth time.
"Don't pick at it," Fred advised.
"It's itchy."
"You'll just make it worse."
"You know, it really sucks being everyone's hostage," he grumbled. "Will you at least crack open the door? I promise I'll stay in the closet."
Fred looked down at the towel bar Angelus had used to wedge the door shut. "No," she said.
"Come on, just a little bit," he whined. "I can't breathe. I'm going to asphyxiate."
"No."
"Please?"
Fred finished shaving and stood up to dump the water in the sink. "No," she said.
The boy sighed. "This bites."
You're not wrong, she thought. She poured the foggy water down the drain and rinsed the razor again in the tap, setting it on the counter while she rinsed out the ice bucket.
The sound of the outside door opening startled her, and she accidentally knocked the razor off the counter when she turned around. Angelus was standing there with a plastic grocery bag in each hand. He kicked the door closed behind him.
"Hi," she said. She stooped to pick up the razor from the floor, then set it back on the counter.
"Why do I smell my shaving cream?" Angelus set the bags on the floor and came toward her.
"Well, I, um --" Fred backed quickly away from him, bumping into the side of the counter. She forgot how fast he could move.
As soon as he got to her, Angelus dropped down to his knees and... sniffed her? He trailed his nose along her thigh, breathing deeply. Oh, God. She swallowed, trying to stand still. Angelus on his knees in front of her while she was naked... rubbing his face along her legs. She tried to think unsexy thoughts.
When he looked back up at her, he'd gone all bumpy and sharp.
Okay, that worked.
He stood back up slowly, yellow eyes glaring into hers as he trailed his hands up her smooth legs. She heard a faint rumbling sound. Like barely controlled growling.
His fingernails dug into her hips. "You used my razor," he said slowly.
She bit her lip.
He glanced down at the counter and snatched the razor, then held it in front of her face. "You used my razor!" he growled again, waving it around before her eyes. "My razor!"
"It was the only one here," she began lamely. "How could I know it was yours..."
"It was on my side!" he exclaimed, yanking open the drawer beneath the sink. He used the razor to point at the nearly empty side of the drawer and then the full one. "Your side, my side!"
"Well, my side didn't have a razor!"
He didn't respond to that. He was staring into the drawer.
Fred started to inch away, but she didn't get far before his hand closed around her throat and her body was shoved against the wall. She winced at the impact.
Angelus reached into the drawer with his other hand, dropping the razor and grabbing his toothbrush. He held it up, the damp bristles glistening. "Tell me you didn't," he said, his voice steely.
Talking was difficult with his hand on her throat. "There wasn't a toothbrush... on my side, either," she wheezed.
With a snarl, Angelus picked her up and threw her across the room as if she weighed nothing. She sailed clumsily through the air and landed sprawled on the bed, hearing something crack on impact. Luckily, it was the bed frame and not her spine. Then he was on top of her, a knee against her chest. "You never touch my things without permission," he growled out. "Do you understand that? Never."
She nodded.
His yellow eyes narrowed, and he leaned down close to her and sniffed.
"You used my fucking deodorant?"
Before she had time to think of a suitable answer, she was being picked up and moved again. This time, she didn't have very far to go. Angelus had dragged her face-down over his lap and delivered two powerful wallops to her backside sooner than she could gather the presence of mind to cry out. With the third strike, though, she found her voice through the fiery pain in her ass, and she screamed. Loud.
His arm clamped down around her waist, and he continued to slap her with the flat of his hand while she flailed, kicking and screaming bloody murder. She shoved ineffectually at him with her hands, and when that didn't work, began beating against his side while he spanked her, twisting and turning in his lap. Maybe he was stronger than twenty of her put together, and maybe there was no way in hell that she could get away from him, but she sure wasn't going to make this easy.
"Stop! LET ME GO!" she bellowed. "OUCH! You fucking... VAMPIRE! PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN! OW! Right NOW! GOD, YOU FUCKING... FUCK!"
"You. Used. My. Toothbrush!" Angelus growled, not letting up. "Do you. Know how many. FUCKING. Germs you have. In your mouth? STOP MOVING!"
Fred kicked and fought as hard as she could, feeling at least some of the slaps miss their mark and hit her legs instead. "Let me go! LET ME GO!"
"YOU USED MY DEODORANT!" Angelus shouted, still raining down spanks. His grip on her kept slipping. Finally, he grabbed both of her flailing ankles and stood up abruptly, dumping her off his lap but holding her suspended vertically in the air. Upside down.
"What the...!" Fred's world suddenly tilted up, and she was afraid she'd hit her head, but her hair only brushed innocently across the carpeted floor between the beds. She swung back and forth in the air a couple of times but then stopped struggling. Her ass was throbbing, and blood started to rush to her face. Panting, she dangled.
"I will drop you on your fucking head," Angelus gritted out, "if you don't stop trying to get away." He glared down at her meaningfully.
"What the hell do you expect?" Fred spat back. "You think I'll just lie across your lap and be treated like a child?"
"You'll lie where I tell you and be treated like whatever the fuck I want," he informed her. "Because you belong to me. Now you can take it like a good little girl and get it over with, or you can struggle, I'll just beat you harder, and I'll pull our little friend out of the closet there and make him watch." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Hell, I might do that anyway."
Fred swallowed between shallow, panting breaths. She wasn't dense enough to believe she could actually talk her way out of this. Fuck. Her face was throbbing now, along with her butt. If someone had told her eight years ago that one day she'd be suspended upside down and naked before a handsome vampire who wanted to spank her in a hotel room, she'd definitely have laughed. She almost laughed now, just thinking about it. She swallowed again.
"Alright," she said quietly. "Fine."
Angelus blinked. He started to say something, stopped, started to lower her to the ground, then pulled her up, then blinked again. "Fine?" he repeated. "Just... fine?"
"You're right. I do belong to you," she said. "Do what you want."
His eyes narrowed.
"I mean it," she said.
He still looked suspicious. "This isn't some stupid plan to try to get me to want you, right? Because if you think that giving in is going to make me want to fuck you, you're wrong."
She stared at his shoes. "I'm not trying to get you to fuck me," she said.
"Well it wouldn't work."
"That's fine."
He shifted from one foot to the other. They were nice shoes. Black. But then, almost all of his stuff was black. Even the razor. "So you'll just... Good. Because you know I would get what I want anyway."
"Right," she said. "Now, go ahead and... spank me." She cleared her throat.
His feet somehow managed to look both angry and amused.
"You just sort of... caught me off guard is all. It's not every day a girl gets sniffed, choked, thrown, spanked, and dangled."
"Maybe if it did happen every day, you wouldn't be such a fucking nuisance," Angelus said, slowly lowering her to the floor. Once he let go of her ankles, he sat back on the bed. She lay there on her back on the carpet, not looking at him.
"Well, get up," he said.
She took a deep breath and stood slowly. Her ass stung, but it wasn't too bad. Yet. She wiped her eyes with her palms and sniffed once, still not looking at him.
"Over my lap." He took her hand and pulled her forward.
As Angelus guided her onto the bed and across his lap, Fred considered her position. She didn't have to look at it as being treated like a kid. She was naked, and she was draping herself across the lap of a handsome man in a hotel room who was about to touch her ass. Many times, probably in rapid succession. That wasn't a little kid thing, or even a punishment at all really. It was... sort of sexy. He was about to touch her more than he had since they met.
Fred could feel her heart speeding up. Wasn't this more or less exactly what she had wanted? A little pain - some sort of reminder that she was alive in the world and not just going through it. True, this wasn't exactly how she pictured him giving it to her, but... yes. Yes, she did want this. She tried to breathe regularly as she adjusted herself over his knees, her legs straight out behind her on the bed. She turned her head to the side, and he moved her hair back out of her face for her. She waited.
His cool hands moved over her body, the left one finding a grip on her waist to hold her in place against his lap. His other hand wandered lower down, feeling even cooler on her hot skin. "You're already pink back here," he murmured, cupping one warmed cheek. "That's what I like about human skin. It turns so many pretty colors. Now we're going to see about making this red."
He continued to rub her pinked skin for a moment, and Fred wondered if he was aroused by the anticipation, by the sight of her like this, waiting for him to punish her. Being what he was, he couldn't not like it, right? She moved her hips slightly, just barely pressing her butt up against his hand. He chuckled.
"You do get that this is punishment, right?" he said.
"Yes." She swallowed. "Of course."
He ran his fingertips lightly along her crack, and she shifted again, letting her legs fall open just a bit, a hint of pink showing. "Then why do I suddenly get the feeling you really, really want me to do this to you?" he asked softly.
"Well, I messed with your stuff. It's... understandable. That you would want to punish me. I mean I didn't have permission, after all." The bedspread beneath her cheek felt scratchy. His thighs beneath her stomach were firm. Her heart was beating fast, and her feet were kind of cold. As she waited, she could feel everything, from the slight sting in her backside to the tickle of a stray hair across her neck. The anticipation made her whole body more aware than usual, and she was getting more turned on as the seconds passed. She spread her legs a little further. "Go ahead," she murmured. "Spank me."
Angelus took his hand off her bottom. "You don't tell me what to do," he said.
Just when Fred thought she had ruined it, that he would push her off his lap onto the floor, the first slap came. She heard it before she felt it, and she immediately felt it again, on the other side. She sharply exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, gasping in another to take its place. The harsh, stinging smacks began alternating back and forth on her ass, and she tried not to move. She couldn't help clenching a little against the blows, and just a couple of minutes into it, she found herself with her fists wound tight in the bedspread and her toes curled, her eyes squeezed shut in a vain effort to stop tears flowing down her cheeks. A particularly harsh blow made her cry out loud.
"That's right. Let it out, Fred," Angelus told her. "I want to hear you."
After that, she didn't try to keep quiet. She let every hard smack drive a cry from her body, wringing out sounds she was sure she'd never made and sounds she thought she'd only made during sex. Each spank forced her hard against Angelus' lap, and in the moment she couldn't think of anything outside of their two bodies connecting and the sounds they generated together.
Her whole body was trembling, exhausted by the time his hand slowed down. She lay slumped over his lap like a sniffling puddle of goo, breathing heavily while his palm rubbed over her numb bottom, not doing much to cool the sting, but feeling nice nevertheless.
"Bright red," he murmured finally. "Good girl."
As if she'd colored her own ass on purpose.
He went on rubbing her, so she went on lying there, sniffing quietly. In a weird way, she felt like they weren't done here, like there was something more that was supposed to happen. She felt ready for something, primed for some elusive second step. She wanted him to keep touching her, not just her ass but everywhere, all over, inside. She was tired, but she hadn't had enough of him. She tried to think what was missing.
It took a moment to come to her, but when it did, Fred knew exactly what she needed. In fact, she felt sort of silly for not knowing right away, but then she'd never been faced with a situation quite like this one before.
She was horny as hell. It wasn't the regular kind of horny, either. This was a new kind of horny, a kind of horny she'd never felt before. This wasn't, "Charles, let's do it in the shower," horny, or even, "I know we're second-cousins but you look fucking hot in those overalls and daddy's out of town," horny. This was something she'd only heard about, the kind of horny that consumes you and doesn't let you think of anything else until you've been fucked within an inch of your life.
When she lifted a shaky hand to her face to wipe away the tear streaks, Angelus stopped moving his hand, letting it rest there on her ass. "Well, Fred," he said. "Did you learn your lesson?"
It took another moment for her consciousness to push past the overwhelming lust and remember what the spanking had been about. "Don't touch your things?" she guessed, her voice cracking. She was still breathing a little harder than usual, and she squirmed slightly in his lap, pushing her aching bottom up against his still hand. She couldn't stop herself; she needed to be touched.
"Good. And what do you have to say for yourself?"
Fuck me, Angel. I need you. "I'm sorry," she said. She closed her eyes, wiggling very slowly, practically begging without words for him to do something to her. She noted with some excitement that his thighs weren't the only firm body parts she could feel beneath her stomach.
"You know, I don't think you're sorry," he told her. His hand slid down the slope of her ass, two fingers suddenly pushing up between her legs. Her mouth fell open as the fingers found her swollen clit and rubbed over it slowly, and she immediately thrust against his hand, desperate for more. "If you were really sorry," he went on calmly, "you wouldn't be so fucking wet from getting punished. Isn't that right, Fred?"
"Yes," she gasped. "I mean, no - I - I'm really sorry. Please..."
"Please what?" His first two fingers went on rubbing and squeezing at her clit, the pleasure suddenly magnified as his thumb slid inside her.
"Please... don't stop," she moaned, driving her hips back against his hand. She felt like she was on fire and flooded at the same time, burning up and overwhelmed, and god, she needed a release.
He chuckled. "That would be really rude of me, wouldn't it?" He worked her clit faster with slick fingers, rotating his thumb inside her and holding her body secure in his lap as she panted and writhed.
She didn't say anything, could do nothing but bite her lip and roll her hips, concentrating on the magic he made with his fingers. Her whole self felt too tight, coiled like a spring, ready to pop.
"Little slut," he murmured. "You'd do anything right now, wouldn't you? Anything I told you."
"Mmm hmm," she agreed, not really hearing him.
"Say it for me, baby. Say you'll do anything."
She was tensing, almost ready to come. "Anything," she breathed. "Anything you say, Angel..."
"Good girl," he said once more. Then he leaned down close to her ear and whispered, "Don't you ever fucking touch my stuff again."
With that, he popped her hard on the ass one more time and pushed her off his lap to the floor.
She landed on her back with a strangled cry as her sore butt hit the ground. It took the vampire's standing up, walking to the sink, and turning on the water for her to finally realize that they were done, he wasn't going to finish her off, that the real punishment was wanting what she couldn't have. Still dizzy with unfulfillment, she started to laugh. Deep, shuddering, uncontrollable laughter. He was going to drive her fucking insane.
After washing his hands, Angelus walked back over to the grocery bags he'd brought in with him. He picked one up and carried it over to Fred where she lay on the floor between the beds, hiccupping. He squatted down beside her and waited for her to calm down.
When she was finally in control of herself, she looked up at him, sure that desperation was obvious in her expression. She felt completely vulnerable, but still very aroused. She tentatively slid one hand between her legs, watching his face.
He shook his head, stopping her with a hand on her wrist. "Didn't you just learn not to touch what belongs to me?" he asked, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, letting her arm fall limp to her side. She opened her eyes again when she felt the plastic bag drop onto her stomach.
"That's for you," Angelus said.
He stood and walked away, and she struggled to sit up, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the pain in her backside. When she peeked into the bag, she started to laugh again. There was a hairbrush, some shampoo and conditioner, shave gel, deodorant, floss, a toothbrush, and a razor.
*
Part Eight: Orbs of Day
Title: Broken, Part Seven: Demonic Possessions
Author: girlpire
Rating: NC17 - FRAO
Pairing: Fred/Angelus
Disclaimer: This story is based on the "Angel" series, with which I am not affiliated in any way. Joss Whedon is my master, etc.
Distribution: Please no. kthnxbye. :)
Summary: Fred deals with the consequences of her decision to release Angelus from his cage.
Warnings: Well, it's kind of dark. There's some hitting and other sorts of abuse. I mean, it's Angelus, right? This chapter includes spanking.
Author's Notes: This WIP takes place during season four of "Angel" and season seven of "Buffy."
Table of Contents, Art, and Nominations (updated as each new chapter is posted)
fabulous art by the awesome mods of banner_grab
*
Fred squeezed the water from her hair and stepped out of the shower onto the bathmat. The little bottle of shampoo was running low. Didn't motels have some kind of maid service? She thought they were supposed to replace things like that. Angelus must have told them not to come around. She shook her arms, flinging the water droplets from her skin. Then, feeling slightly ridiculous, she shook her legs one at a time as well. That would explain the lack of towels anyway, although she suspected that Angelus had hidden them from her on purpose.
When he got back, she was going to give him a list of things she needed. It didn't look like he was going to kill her anytime soon, and there are certain things a living person needs to have. A toothbrush, for instance. Rinsing her mouth in the shower just wasn't cutting it, especially now that she was existing pretty much solely on tacos.
She wouldn't hate a stick of deodorant, either.
Maybe a razor.
Floss.
She opened the door to the dressing area and watched as the mirrors over the sink and on the closet door began to fog up. She walked over to the closet door and leaned in close to the mirror, studying the blur of her face. Fog was kind of beautiful on a microscopic level. Thousands of tiny droplets of water reflecting light in thousands of different directions - so brilliant you can't even see through it clearly. She reached up slowly and drew an F in the fog with her fingertip. Then she added an A. And a heart. With an arrow through it.
Then she frowned and dashed it away hard with her hand, the door rattling underneath her palm.
"H-hello?" a weak voice called from within the closet.
Fred blinked. She had forgotten for a moment about the boy behind the door. "Hey," she said.
"Little... um... little naked girl?" he asked.
"It's Fred."
She heard some shifting around behind the door.
"Oh sorry, you... kind of sounded like a girl."
You too, she thought. Out loud, she said, "I am a girl."
"Oh."
She turned away from the closet and opened the small drawer beneath the sink, looking for a comb. It was the same drawer she'd seen Angelus get his hair gel from.
"People in this town have interesting names," the boy said. "I wonder why that is."
"Don't know," she murmured. She was staring down into the drawer. On one side, there was a comb, hair gel, toothpaste, a toothbrush, men's deodorant, a razor, floss, fingernail clippers, and a travel-sized bottle of shaving cream, all arranged neatly. The other side was completely empty, save for a makeup compact and three black hair bands. Hers.
After a few seconds, she took the comb from the drawer and began to use it, eyeing the toothpaste covetously.
"It's dark in here," the boy quietly complained.
"It's night," she told him. "And you're inside a closet."
*
Less than an hour later, Fred found herself sitting on the floor with her back against the closet door mirror, shaving her legs with Angelus' razor and vehemently arguing against the possibility of time travel to what she was sure looked like thin air.
"That's ridiculous!" she was saying, swiping the razor along the side of her thigh. "The most it could realistically accomplish would be to change the direction of everything -- so that if you threw a ball forward, it would go behind you instead. What would be the point of that? And just because Spiderman did it doesn't make it a valid argument." She had filled the ice bucket with warm water and put it at her side, using it to rinse out the razor between strokes.
"It was Superman," sulked the voice from the closet. "And you don't even know the true powers bestowed upon him by his alien heritage."
Fred dunked the razor in the water again with a sigh. There was just no arguing physics with someone who insisted on comic books being legitimate sources of information.
"My neck hurts," the boy said, for probably the billionth time.
"Don't pick at it," Fred advised.
"It's itchy."
"You'll just make it worse."
"You know, it really sucks being everyone's hostage," he grumbled. "Will you at least crack open the door? I promise I'll stay in the closet."
Fred looked down at the towel bar Angelus had used to wedge the door shut. "No," she said.
"Come on, just a little bit," he whined. "I can't breathe. I'm going to asphyxiate."
"No."
"Please?"
Fred finished shaving and stood up to dump the water in the sink. "No," she said.
The boy sighed. "This bites."
You're not wrong, she thought. She poured the foggy water down the drain and rinsed the razor again in the tap, setting it on the counter while she rinsed out the ice bucket.
The sound of the outside door opening startled her, and she accidentally knocked the razor off the counter when she turned around. Angelus was standing there with a plastic grocery bag in each hand. He kicked the door closed behind him.
"Hi," she said. She stooped to pick up the razor from the floor, then set it back on the counter.
"Why do I smell my shaving cream?" Angelus set the bags on the floor and came toward her.
"Well, I, um --" Fred backed quickly away from him, bumping into the side of the counter. She forgot how fast he could move.
As soon as he got to her, Angelus dropped down to his knees and... sniffed her? He trailed his nose along her thigh, breathing deeply. Oh, God. She swallowed, trying to stand still. Angelus on his knees in front of her while she was naked... rubbing his face along her legs. She tried to think unsexy thoughts.
When he looked back up at her, he'd gone all bumpy and sharp.
Okay, that worked.
He stood back up slowly, yellow eyes glaring into hers as he trailed his hands up her smooth legs. She heard a faint rumbling sound. Like barely controlled growling.
His fingernails dug into her hips. "You used my razor," he said slowly.
She bit her lip.
He glanced down at the counter and snatched the razor, then held it in front of her face. "You used my razor!" he growled again, waving it around before her eyes. "My razor!"
"It was the only one here," she began lamely. "How could I know it was yours..."
"It was on my side!" he exclaimed, yanking open the drawer beneath the sink. He used the razor to point at the nearly empty side of the drawer and then the full one. "Your side, my side!"
"Well, my side didn't have a razor!"
He didn't respond to that. He was staring into the drawer.
Fred started to inch away, but she didn't get far before his hand closed around her throat and her body was shoved against the wall. She winced at the impact.
Angelus reached into the drawer with his other hand, dropping the razor and grabbing his toothbrush. He held it up, the damp bristles glistening. "Tell me you didn't," he said, his voice steely.
Talking was difficult with his hand on her throat. "There wasn't a toothbrush... on my side, either," she wheezed.
With a snarl, Angelus picked her up and threw her across the room as if she weighed nothing. She sailed clumsily through the air and landed sprawled on the bed, hearing something crack on impact. Luckily, it was the bed frame and not her spine. Then he was on top of her, a knee against her chest. "You never touch my things without permission," he growled out. "Do you understand that? Never."
She nodded.
His yellow eyes narrowed, and he leaned down close to her and sniffed.
"You used my fucking deodorant?"
Before she had time to think of a suitable answer, she was being picked up and moved again. This time, she didn't have very far to go. Angelus had dragged her face-down over his lap and delivered two powerful wallops to her backside sooner than she could gather the presence of mind to cry out. With the third strike, though, she found her voice through the fiery pain in her ass, and she screamed. Loud.
His arm clamped down around her waist, and he continued to slap her with the flat of his hand while she flailed, kicking and screaming bloody murder. She shoved ineffectually at him with her hands, and when that didn't work, began beating against his side while he spanked her, twisting and turning in his lap. Maybe he was stronger than twenty of her put together, and maybe there was no way in hell that she could get away from him, but she sure wasn't going to make this easy.
"Stop! LET ME GO!" she bellowed. "OUCH! You fucking... VAMPIRE! PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN! OW! Right NOW! GOD, YOU FUCKING... FUCK!"
"You. Used. My. Toothbrush!" Angelus growled, not letting up. "Do you. Know how many. FUCKING. Germs you have. In your mouth? STOP MOVING!"
Fred kicked and fought as hard as she could, feeling at least some of the slaps miss their mark and hit her legs instead. "Let me go! LET ME GO!"
"YOU USED MY DEODORANT!" Angelus shouted, still raining down spanks. His grip on her kept slipping. Finally, he grabbed both of her flailing ankles and stood up abruptly, dumping her off his lap but holding her suspended vertically in the air. Upside down.
"What the...!" Fred's world suddenly tilted up, and she was afraid she'd hit her head, but her hair only brushed innocently across the carpeted floor between the beds. She swung back and forth in the air a couple of times but then stopped struggling. Her ass was throbbing, and blood started to rush to her face. Panting, she dangled.
"I will drop you on your fucking head," Angelus gritted out, "if you don't stop trying to get away." He glared down at her meaningfully.
"What the hell do you expect?" Fred spat back. "You think I'll just lie across your lap and be treated like a child?"
"You'll lie where I tell you and be treated like whatever the fuck I want," he informed her. "Because you belong to me. Now you can take it like a good little girl and get it over with, or you can struggle, I'll just beat you harder, and I'll pull our little friend out of the closet there and make him watch." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Hell, I might do that anyway."
Fred swallowed between shallow, panting breaths. She wasn't dense enough to believe she could actually talk her way out of this. Fuck. Her face was throbbing now, along with her butt. If someone had told her eight years ago that one day she'd be suspended upside down and naked before a handsome vampire who wanted to spank her in a hotel room, she'd definitely have laughed. She almost laughed now, just thinking about it. She swallowed again.
"Alright," she said quietly. "Fine."
Angelus blinked. He started to say something, stopped, started to lower her to the ground, then pulled her up, then blinked again. "Fine?" he repeated. "Just... fine?"
"You're right. I do belong to you," she said. "Do what you want."
His eyes narrowed.
"I mean it," she said.
He still looked suspicious. "This isn't some stupid plan to try to get me to want you, right? Because if you think that giving in is going to make me want to fuck you, you're wrong."
She stared at his shoes. "I'm not trying to get you to fuck me," she said.
"Well it wouldn't work."
"That's fine."
He shifted from one foot to the other. They were nice shoes. Black. But then, almost all of his stuff was black. Even the razor. "So you'll just... Good. Because you know I would get what I want anyway."
"Right," she said. "Now, go ahead and... spank me." She cleared her throat.
His feet somehow managed to look both angry and amused.
"You just sort of... caught me off guard is all. It's not every day a girl gets sniffed, choked, thrown, spanked, and dangled."
"Maybe if it did happen every day, you wouldn't be such a fucking nuisance," Angelus said, slowly lowering her to the floor. Once he let go of her ankles, he sat back on the bed. She lay there on her back on the carpet, not looking at him.
"Well, get up," he said.
She took a deep breath and stood slowly. Her ass stung, but it wasn't too bad. Yet. She wiped her eyes with her palms and sniffed once, still not looking at him.
"Over my lap." He took her hand and pulled her forward.
As Angelus guided her onto the bed and across his lap, Fred considered her position. She didn't have to look at it as being treated like a kid. She was naked, and she was draping herself across the lap of a handsome man in a hotel room who was about to touch her ass. Many times, probably in rapid succession. That wasn't a little kid thing, or even a punishment at all really. It was... sort of sexy. He was about to touch her more than he had since they met.
Fred could feel her heart speeding up. Wasn't this more or less exactly what she had wanted? A little pain - some sort of reminder that she was alive in the world and not just going through it. True, this wasn't exactly how she pictured him giving it to her, but... yes. Yes, she did want this. She tried to breathe regularly as she adjusted herself over his knees, her legs straight out behind her on the bed. She turned her head to the side, and he moved her hair back out of her face for her. She waited.
His cool hands moved over her body, the left one finding a grip on her waist to hold her in place against his lap. His other hand wandered lower down, feeling even cooler on her hot skin. "You're already pink back here," he murmured, cupping one warmed cheek. "That's what I like about human skin. It turns so many pretty colors. Now we're going to see about making this red."
He continued to rub her pinked skin for a moment, and Fred wondered if he was aroused by the anticipation, by the sight of her like this, waiting for him to punish her. Being what he was, he couldn't not like it, right? She moved her hips slightly, just barely pressing her butt up against his hand. He chuckled.
"You do get that this is punishment, right?" he said.
"Yes." She swallowed. "Of course."
He ran his fingertips lightly along her crack, and she shifted again, letting her legs fall open just a bit, a hint of pink showing. "Then why do I suddenly get the feeling you really, really want me to do this to you?" he asked softly.
"Well, I messed with your stuff. It's... understandable. That you would want to punish me. I mean I didn't have permission, after all." The bedspread beneath her cheek felt scratchy. His thighs beneath her stomach were firm. Her heart was beating fast, and her feet were kind of cold. As she waited, she could feel everything, from the slight sting in her backside to the tickle of a stray hair across her neck. The anticipation made her whole body more aware than usual, and she was getting more turned on as the seconds passed. She spread her legs a little further. "Go ahead," she murmured. "Spank me."
Angelus took his hand off her bottom. "You don't tell me what to do," he said.
Just when Fred thought she had ruined it, that he would push her off his lap onto the floor, the first slap came. She heard it before she felt it, and she immediately felt it again, on the other side. She sharply exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, gasping in another to take its place. The harsh, stinging smacks began alternating back and forth on her ass, and she tried not to move. She couldn't help clenching a little against the blows, and just a couple of minutes into it, she found herself with her fists wound tight in the bedspread and her toes curled, her eyes squeezed shut in a vain effort to stop tears flowing down her cheeks. A particularly harsh blow made her cry out loud.
"That's right. Let it out, Fred," Angelus told her. "I want to hear you."
After that, she didn't try to keep quiet. She let every hard smack drive a cry from her body, wringing out sounds she was sure she'd never made and sounds she thought she'd only made during sex. Each spank forced her hard against Angelus' lap, and in the moment she couldn't think of anything outside of their two bodies connecting and the sounds they generated together.
Her whole body was trembling, exhausted by the time his hand slowed down. She lay slumped over his lap like a sniffling puddle of goo, breathing heavily while his palm rubbed over her numb bottom, not doing much to cool the sting, but feeling nice nevertheless.
"Bright red," he murmured finally. "Good girl."
As if she'd colored her own ass on purpose.
He went on rubbing her, so she went on lying there, sniffing quietly. In a weird way, she felt like they weren't done here, like there was something more that was supposed to happen. She felt ready for something, primed for some elusive second step. She wanted him to keep touching her, not just her ass but everywhere, all over, inside. She was tired, but she hadn't had enough of him. She tried to think what was missing.
It took a moment to come to her, but when it did, Fred knew exactly what she needed. In fact, she felt sort of silly for not knowing right away, but then she'd never been faced with a situation quite like this one before.
She was horny as hell. It wasn't the regular kind of horny, either. This was a new kind of horny, a kind of horny she'd never felt before. This wasn't, "Charles, let's do it in the shower," horny, or even, "I know we're second-cousins but you look fucking hot in those overalls and daddy's out of town," horny. This was something she'd only heard about, the kind of horny that consumes you and doesn't let you think of anything else until you've been fucked within an inch of your life.
When she lifted a shaky hand to her face to wipe away the tear streaks, Angelus stopped moving his hand, letting it rest there on her ass. "Well, Fred," he said. "Did you learn your lesson?"
It took another moment for her consciousness to push past the overwhelming lust and remember what the spanking had been about. "Don't touch your things?" she guessed, her voice cracking. She was still breathing a little harder than usual, and she squirmed slightly in his lap, pushing her aching bottom up against his still hand. She couldn't stop herself; she needed to be touched.
"Good. And what do you have to say for yourself?"
Fuck me, Angel. I need you. "I'm sorry," she said. She closed her eyes, wiggling very slowly, practically begging without words for him to do something to her. She noted with some excitement that his thighs weren't the only firm body parts she could feel beneath her stomach.
"You know, I don't think you're sorry," he told her. His hand slid down the slope of her ass, two fingers suddenly pushing up between her legs. Her mouth fell open as the fingers found her swollen clit and rubbed over it slowly, and she immediately thrust against his hand, desperate for more. "If you were really sorry," he went on calmly, "you wouldn't be so fucking wet from getting punished. Isn't that right, Fred?"
"Yes," she gasped. "I mean, no - I - I'm really sorry. Please..."
"Please what?" His first two fingers went on rubbing and squeezing at her clit, the pleasure suddenly magnified as his thumb slid inside her.
"Please... don't stop," she moaned, driving her hips back against his hand. She felt like she was on fire and flooded at the same time, burning up and overwhelmed, and god, she needed a release.
He chuckled. "That would be really rude of me, wouldn't it?" He worked her clit faster with slick fingers, rotating his thumb inside her and holding her body secure in his lap as she panted and writhed.
She didn't say anything, could do nothing but bite her lip and roll her hips, concentrating on the magic he made with his fingers. Her whole self felt too tight, coiled like a spring, ready to pop.
"Little slut," he murmured. "You'd do anything right now, wouldn't you? Anything I told you."
"Mmm hmm," she agreed, not really hearing him.
"Say it for me, baby. Say you'll do anything."
She was tensing, almost ready to come. "Anything," she breathed. "Anything you say, Angel..."
"Good girl," he said once more. Then he leaned down close to her ear and whispered, "Don't you ever fucking touch my stuff again."
With that, he popped her hard on the ass one more time and pushed her off his lap to the floor.
She landed on her back with a strangled cry as her sore butt hit the ground. It took the vampire's standing up, walking to the sink, and turning on the water for her to finally realize that they were done, he wasn't going to finish her off, that the real punishment was wanting what she couldn't have. Still dizzy with unfulfillment, she started to laugh. Deep, shuddering, uncontrollable laughter. He was going to drive her fucking insane.
After washing his hands, Angelus walked back over to the grocery bags he'd brought in with him. He picked one up and carried it over to Fred where she lay on the floor between the beds, hiccupping. He squatted down beside her and waited for her to calm down.
When she was finally in control of herself, she looked up at him, sure that desperation was obvious in her expression. She felt completely vulnerable, but still very aroused. She tentatively slid one hand between her legs, watching his face.
He shook his head, stopping her with a hand on her wrist. "Didn't you just learn not to touch what belongs to me?" he asked, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, letting her arm fall limp to her side. She opened her eyes again when she felt the plastic bag drop onto her stomach.
"That's for you," Angelus said.
He stood and walked away, and she struggled to sit up, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the pain in her backside. When she peeked into the bag, she started to laugh again. There was a hairbrush, some shampoo and conditioner, shave gel, deodorant, floss, a toothbrush, and a razor.
*
Part Eight: Orbs of Day