Supernatural Fic: Where Angels Go (Anna/Crowley; NC17)
Title: Where Angels Go
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Anna/Crowley
Rating NC17
Prompt: Reprimand. (- for Porn Battle XIII LJ / DW)
Warnings: Sexual content, Dub-con bordering on non-con, bondage and spanking.
Nobody knew what happened to Angels when they died. Not really. Their God would never let them know, it would have been too much of scandal.
“Didn’t you ever wonder what happened to Angels when they die?” Crowley said, trailing a hand over delicate white skin, skin that wouldn’t last long in hell, being that pretty. “They come to me.”
Anna struggled against her bonds. She was stood naked, legs spread and bent over, ropes running from her wrists to the bars of a metal cage. She could only be thankful she was on the outside of the bars.
“Now, I liked you Angel. You made a fuss, questioned the big guy. You have no idea how refreshing that is.”
He pulled on the rope so she had to grasp the cage bars to keep herself from falling.
“I conformed. I went back!” She shouted, knowing she was going to be punished, which in hell wasn’t an appealing idea.
“Oh, don’t spoil it. I’m so sick of you people coming here, crying how you loved God and you were good soldiers. Be honest, girl, be bad. I won’t judge.” Crowley placed his hand on her back.
“Why should I, for a piece of demon scum like you.” Anna twisted against the ropes.
“Because I am the one who gets to decide whether your punishment is eternal torture or...something else, something nicer.”
“What do you mean?” Anna twisted again, craning her neck so she could face him.
“Well, you’ve got to be punished, orders are orders but we could make it fun. What do you say?”
“Fuck you!” Anna went back to staring straight ahead.
“Are you sure? Years of endless torture at some of the best hands, or worst hands depends where you are on the fence. It’ll make hot pokers seem like fluffy bunny rabbits.”
“What’s my other option?” Anna asked, hating herself slightly.
Crowley didn’t answer, instead he brought his hand down across her ass, making the pale skin turn pink. Anna cried out, she couldn’t help it but she nodded, submitting. She’d seen much worse happen to stronger Angels than her.
Crowley laughed, deep, barely above a growl. “Good girl.”
He leant over her, fingers finding her clit and teasing it. “There’s even something in it for you. You’re allowed to come when we get to ten.”
He brought his hand down across her ass again, making the blood sing and rush to the surface. Anna’s knuckles turned white where she was grasping the bars so tightly. He pressed one finger inside her before spanking her twice more on her other asscheek. She took them in silence, biting her lip. Now both cheeks were a pale pink, like a blushing virgin. Another slap landed on the first cheek, and she couldn’t stop tears burning her eyes, stinging like her skin.
After that she couldn’t stop herself crying out with each slap, five, six, seven. Her moans mingled with her cries, tears mixing with sweat as he circled her clit with his thumb, making pleasure fight with pain to see which could claim her first.
On the eighth one she screamed, frustration making her break down a little bit more, openly sobbing. She knew if she could just come, everything would be ok. Endorphins would flood her brain and the bruised skin wouldn’t matter anymore. He had two fingers inside her, curling, constantly brushing over her g-spot. His thumb worked her clit so furiously her legs were shaking. She didn’t know how she hadn’t come already. Was he magically holding back her orgasm or was she not letting herself come because it hadn’t been ten yet.
The ninth slap landed and she started begging. “Please!” She threw dignity to the wind. “Let me come, I’ve been a good girl. I’ve been good!”
He twisted his fingers inside and brought down the last slap. Her body exploded in release, thrumming with the power of it until her vision and her self-control deserted her.
When she came to she was sat in a heap on the floor, still crying from the agony and the ecstasy. There was a post-it note stuck on the bars.
“How about eleven tomorrow?”
She hated that it was a question because it meant she’d say yes, she’d give it willingly instead of having it taken.
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Anna/Crowley
Rating NC17
Prompt: Reprimand. (- for Porn Battle XIII LJ / DW)
Warnings: Sexual content, Dub-con bordering on non-con, bondage and spanking.
Nobody knew what happened to Angels when they died. Not really. Their God would never let them know, it would have been too much of scandal.
“Didn’t you ever wonder what happened to Angels when they die?” Crowley said, trailing a hand over delicate white skin, skin that wouldn’t last long in hell, being that pretty. “They come to me.”
Anna struggled against her bonds. She was stood naked, legs spread and bent over, ropes running from her wrists to the bars of a metal cage. She could only be thankful she was on the outside of the bars.
“Now, I liked you Angel. You made a fuss, questioned the big guy. You have no idea how refreshing that is.”
He pulled on the rope so she had to grasp the cage bars to keep herself from falling.
“I conformed. I went back!” She shouted, knowing she was going to be punished, which in hell wasn’t an appealing idea.
“Oh, don’t spoil it. I’m so sick of you people coming here, crying how you loved God and you were good soldiers. Be honest, girl, be bad. I won’t judge.” Crowley placed his hand on her back.
“Why should I, for a piece of demon scum like you.” Anna twisted against the ropes.
“Because I am the one who gets to decide whether your punishment is eternal torture or...something else, something nicer.”
“What do you mean?” Anna twisted again, craning her neck so she could face him.
“Well, you’ve got to be punished, orders are orders but we could make it fun. What do you say?”
“Fuck you!” Anna went back to staring straight ahead.
“Are you sure? Years of endless torture at some of the best hands, or worst hands depends where you are on the fence. It’ll make hot pokers seem like fluffy bunny rabbits.”
“What’s my other option?” Anna asked, hating herself slightly.
Crowley didn’t answer, instead he brought his hand down across her ass, making the pale skin turn pink. Anna cried out, she couldn’t help it but she nodded, submitting. She’d seen much worse happen to stronger Angels than her.
Crowley laughed, deep, barely above a growl. “Good girl.”
He leant over her, fingers finding her clit and teasing it. “There’s even something in it for you. You’re allowed to come when we get to ten.”
He brought his hand down across her ass again, making the blood sing and rush to the surface. Anna’s knuckles turned white where she was grasping the bars so tightly. He pressed one finger inside her before spanking her twice more on her other asscheek. She took them in silence, biting her lip. Now both cheeks were a pale pink, like a blushing virgin. Another slap landed on the first cheek, and she couldn’t stop tears burning her eyes, stinging like her skin.
After that she couldn’t stop herself crying out with each slap, five, six, seven. Her moans mingled with her cries, tears mixing with sweat as he circled her clit with his thumb, making pleasure fight with pain to see which could claim her first.
On the eighth one she screamed, frustration making her break down a little bit more, openly sobbing. She knew if she could just come, everything would be ok. Endorphins would flood her brain and the bruised skin wouldn’t matter anymore. He had two fingers inside her, curling, constantly brushing over her g-spot. His thumb worked her clit so furiously her legs were shaking. She didn’t know how she hadn’t come already. Was he magically holding back her orgasm or was she not letting herself come because it hadn’t been ten yet.
The ninth slap landed and she started begging. “Please!” She threw dignity to the wind. “Let me come, I’ve been a good girl. I’ve been good!”
He twisted his fingers inside and brought down the last slap. Her body exploded in release, thrumming with the power of it until her vision and her self-control deserted her.
When she came to she was sat in a heap on the floor, still crying from the agony and the ecstasy. There was a post-it note stuck on the bars.
“How about eleven tomorrow?”
She hated that it was a question because it meant she’d say yes, she’d give it willingly instead of having it taken.