New short story, B/A - Fools Rush In.
Hi all! I wrote a silly piece of nonsense for spanking_world - it’s a short B/A scene, and not surprisingly, contains spanking… I hope you enjoy it anyway.
Fools Rush In
Author: Dark Star
Summary: where Angel fears to…
Written for spanking_world
Thanks to Jo for the beta.
*
“What the hell were you thinking of?”
She shrugged. “Just doing my job,” she said.
“Just trying to get killed, you mean!” he yelled, and Buffy frowned. She didn’t think she had ever seen him so angry.
“It worked out all right, didn’t it?” Hands on her hips, she faced him defiantly.
“This time, yeah!” He was pacing, up and down, his vampire visage shimmering with the effort of staying in control.
“All’s well, then,” she said, a bit unnerved by the force of his anger. She moved to leave the room when he caught her arm and startled, she squawked.
“Oh no,” he was saying. “You don’t get out of it that easy.”
Anxiousness gave way to anger of her own and she snapped, “You’re not my boss, Angel. You can’t tell me what to do.”
“Somebody should make you see how stupid you were!”
It was the wrong thing to say. She straightened her shoulders and said in disbelief, “And that somebody is you? How are you going to do that?”
She could tell he was battling with some inner conflict and she laughed. “I thought not.” Turning away, she shook off his hand and muttered, “I do what I do. What does it matter? Slayers fight, and slayers die. Who cares if I die, anyway?”
The growl should have warned her she’d made a mistake, but before she’d had time to think she found herself spun round, bent over the nearest table with one hand holding her down and Angel’s other hand vigorously attacking her backside.
“Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!”
The shrieks eventually filtered through the red haze of Angel’s anger and, appalled, he looked down at the dishevelled slayer and abruptly stopped smacking her.
“I…” he began, but Buffy’s next words shocked him even more.
“Don’t stop.”
Flustered, he hesitated. His anger spent, he looked at her. Really looked at her, and belatedly realised she could have escaped any time she wanted to. But it was clear that escape was the last thing on her mind, and her scent was spicy with want.
“Please,” she said, and her voice was shaky and full of need. She hadn’t moved a muscle from when he’d released her, and he finally got the message. All right - if she wanted a spanking he’d give her one, and face the consequences of it afterwards.
“Your jeans are protecting you too much,” he said, pretending that was why he’d stopped. “I’m going to pull them down.”
She made no protest when he reached underneath her. It was rather awkward to be undoing the button and zip of somebody else’s clothes while they’re bending forward, but he managed it without too much fumbling. The spice in her scent inched up a couple of notches when he did so. As he began easing the jeans down - not easy when somebody is bending - her cotton underwear began to slide with them. He paused for a fraction of a second and then pulled them down at the same time. He let both of them hang round her knees and returned his attention back to her vaguely rosy backside.
The force of his slap took her by surprise, since layers of clothing no longer muted the sensation and she gasped. She gasped again and again with each smack, giving way to moans and screams as they became faster and harder, barely giving her time to breathe in between.
He wasn’t sure when she started crying. He suspected her tears had been silent ones for a while, but once she started to sob loudly he paused, and asked her if she wanted him to stop.
“No,” she snuffled through her tears. “Please don’t.”
Oh, god. His hand stung and he was pretty sure her ass did, too. It was glowing red and he could feel the heat radiating off of it. But this was the slayer - who knew what she could take? If he was truthful, he really wanted to carry on. He really wanted to know what a slayer was capable of.
And then he started again. He tried to convince himself he wasn’t turned on by Buffy’s tears and screams. He tried to convince himself he was doing this solely for her benefit, but he knew it was lie - he was thoroughly enjoying himself, and he figured that in spite of everything, she was, too.
She screamed through her tears. She squirmed away from his hand and her legs squirmed and wriggled and finally, with his hand stinging and her ass one mass of heated scarlet, he stopped.
Buffy continued to sob loudly and he half expected her to beg him to carry on, but she didn’t. He idly wondered if she would let him masturbate her, and then remembered, somewhat belatedly, that this was supposed to be a punishment.
He stepped away. “I’ll wait outside for when you’ve recovered,” he said as casually as he could, and Buffy gave no other response than a loud sniffle. He could have just left then, but he couldn’t resist a parting shot. “I’m sorry I had to do that,” he lied, “But it was for your own good. Please try to be more careful in future.”
As he walked away he wondered if he had just encouraged her to be far more reckless than she ever had before…
End
Fools Rush In
Author: Dark Star
Summary: where Angel fears to…
Written for spanking_world
Thanks to Jo for the beta.
*
“What the hell were you thinking of?”
She shrugged. “Just doing my job,” she said.
“Just trying to get killed, you mean!” he yelled, and Buffy frowned. She didn’t think she had ever seen him so angry.
“It worked out all right, didn’t it?” Hands on her hips, she faced him defiantly.
“This time, yeah!” He was pacing, up and down, his vampire visage shimmering with the effort of staying in control.
“All’s well, then,” she said, a bit unnerved by the force of his anger. She moved to leave the room when he caught her arm and startled, she squawked.
“Oh no,” he was saying. “You don’t get out of it that easy.”
Anxiousness gave way to anger of her own and she snapped, “You’re not my boss, Angel. You can’t tell me what to do.”
“Somebody should make you see how stupid you were!”
It was the wrong thing to say. She straightened her shoulders and said in disbelief, “And that somebody is you? How are you going to do that?”
She could tell he was battling with some inner conflict and she laughed. “I thought not.” Turning away, she shook off his hand and muttered, “I do what I do. What does it matter? Slayers fight, and slayers die. Who cares if I die, anyway?”
The growl should have warned her she’d made a mistake, but before she’d had time to think she found herself spun round, bent over the nearest table with one hand holding her down and Angel’s other hand vigorously attacking her backside.
“Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!”
The shrieks eventually filtered through the red haze of Angel’s anger and, appalled, he looked down at the dishevelled slayer and abruptly stopped smacking her.
“I…” he began, but Buffy’s next words shocked him even more.
“Don’t stop.”
Flustered, he hesitated. His anger spent, he looked at her. Really looked at her, and belatedly realised she could have escaped any time she wanted to. But it was clear that escape was the last thing on her mind, and her scent was spicy with want.
“Please,” she said, and her voice was shaky and full of need. She hadn’t moved a muscle from when he’d released her, and he finally got the message. All right - if she wanted a spanking he’d give her one, and face the consequences of it afterwards.
“Your jeans are protecting you too much,” he said, pretending that was why he’d stopped. “I’m going to pull them down.”
She made no protest when he reached underneath her. It was rather awkward to be undoing the button and zip of somebody else’s clothes while they’re bending forward, but he managed it without too much fumbling. The spice in her scent inched up a couple of notches when he did so. As he began easing the jeans down - not easy when somebody is bending - her cotton underwear began to slide with them. He paused for a fraction of a second and then pulled them down at the same time. He let both of them hang round her knees and returned his attention back to her vaguely rosy backside.
The force of his slap took her by surprise, since layers of clothing no longer muted the sensation and she gasped. She gasped again and again with each smack, giving way to moans and screams as they became faster and harder, barely giving her time to breathe in between.
He wasn’t sure when she started crying. He suspected her tears had been silent ones for a while, but once she started to sob loudly he paused, and asked her if she wanted him to stop.
“No,” she snuffled through her tears. “Please don’t.”
Oh, god. His hand stung and he was pretty sure her ass did, too. It was glowing red and he could feel the heat radiating off of it. But this was the slayer - who knew what she could take? If he was truthful, he really wanted to carry on. He really wanted to know what a slayer was capable of.
And then he started again. He tried to convince himself he wasn’t turned on by Buffy’s tears and screams. He tried to convince himself he was doing this solely for her benefit, but he knew it was lie - he was thoroughly enjoying himself, and he figured that in spite of everything, she was, too.
She screamed through her tears. She squirmed away from his hand and her legs squirmed and wriggled and finally, with his hand stinging and her ass one mass of heated scarlet, he stopped.
Buffy continued to sob loudly and he half expected her to beg him to carry on, but she didn’t. He idly wondered if she would let him masturbate her, and then remembered, somewhat belatedly, that this was supposed to be a punishment.
He stepped away. “I’ll wait outside for when you’ve recovered,” he said as casually as he could, and Buffy gave no other response than a loud sniffle. He could have just left then, but he couldn’t resist a parting shot. “I’m sorry I had to do that,” he lied, “But it was for your own good. Please try to be more careful in future.”
As he walked away he wondered if he had just encouraged her to be far more reckless than she ever had before…
End