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writingbyebonioTitle: Good Kitty
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
eboniorchid
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel the Series
Characters: Mystery Woman/Faith Lehane (or highlight the following for the exact pairing: Vamp!Willow Rosenberg/Faith Lehane)
Prompt: "It wasn't supposed to be like this" fromstorydivagirl's First Line Meme.
Word Count: ~5,700 words.
Rating: NC-17 for violence, sexuality, and language.
Warnings/Spoilers: No spoilers. DARK! BLOOD! VIOLENCE! Non-con. Angst. Humiliation. Rimming. Double penetration. Fisting. Facesitting. Breath play. Impact play (spanking). Bondage. Gags. Toys. Daddy!kink (a little). Implied het, age play, role play, and BDSM (D/s and M/s). Mentions of past character death (vamping). PWP. Femslash. Smut. Graphic f/f sex. AU from an unspecified point.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really. Nothing.
Summary: Who's a good kitty?
Beta:brynwulf
Author's Notes: My first fanfic in this fandom. Inspired bystorydivagirl's First Line Meme. This may also be belatedly inspired by phantisma's story "The Prize", though it would be quite an AU of that AU. You don't actually need to know this fandom or these characters to enjoy the fic.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was the slayer- … a slayer- … and she was fucking Faith Lehane. Since when did that mean being chained … naked … on her knees … on the floor … in the dark? She should be in bed, but this was all far too real to be a dream and she shouted, struggling in her bonds.
"Hey! What is this shit, huh?!" The feel of the room, the dark, and the churning in her gut said this probably wasn't a practical joke, but … "Not funny, guys! Seriously, not fucking funny!"
No one answered her and she realized with a silent gulp that the dark wasn't just at-night dark. It was pitch-black dark, like all the ambient light had been stolen and hidden away. She switched her tactics, focusing on pressing her strength out against what should have been weak points in the metal, at her wrists and at her ankles, but … all they did was jingle a little bondage tune. Trying to jerk her legs up, she fought to stand or dislodge them from their position, but she was bolted to the floor somehow and the chains, the cuffs, shouldn't have held her - not her, not a slayer. Yet, all she was doing was tiring herself out.
The thud of boots on the cement floor behind her made her still, calculating even in her anger. "Hey you, whoever you are! When I get out of here- …"
Her face hit the floor, hard, her whole body tipped forward from one harsh kick in the back, her breasts scraping against the cement in some aching counterpoint. She was dazed and tasted blood, but she was also clever and she turned to put her ear to the floor, listening for clues about this place and how the fuck to get out of it. Unfortunately, though, she could hear nothing but her captor's footsteps.
"Okay, so threats aren't your thing. Is there something- …"
Her words broke off in a yell as a boot crunched crisscrossing chains into her spine, making her body bend in truly unnatural ways, and when it pulled away, she really thought about saying a whole hell of a lot, but there was a ripple of doubt in her gut, a ripple of fear.
"If you want me to be quiet, just … tap my side twice."
The double-tap came, almost seeming tender after the ruthless moments just before.
"Okay."
She heard the squeak of some kind of material, leather or pleather or maybe rubber and could almost feel the breath of someone squatting down beside her. The fingers that ran through her hair belonged to smallish hands, maybe a woman's- … yes, there were longer-than-typical nails scraping over her scalp and down to draw up goosebumps between her nape and the collar wrapped around her neck. Wracking her brain, she tried to remember any female enemies she'd pissed off without killing lately and she really couldn't recall anyone, which didn't help ground all the bugs whizzing about in her stomach. If this was a new baddie in town, then her intel was crap or compromised, either of which would mean that help wasn't coming.
She shivered as nails scraped down her bare back, hopping lines of chain when necessary, before tracing delicate figure eights on the left side of her ass, her captor shifting into a crouch behind her. "Umm- …"
She yelped as a palm connected with her ass, not holding anything back, then the nails that had been sweet became vicious, scraping deep enough to draw lines of blood. It was a testament to her captor's strategies, though, that the tongue tracing the blood over her ass was both hateful and soothing. Then a knuckle was knocking twice on her side, gently.
"Be quiet. Right."
When the nails slashed down the right side of her ass, she just mewled and bit her lip, shuddering as each line was mouthed over, her captor's lips smearing the blood before lapping it up. Well, seemed like she was probably dealing with a vamp. That didn't narrow things down all that much, but at least she would know how to kill it … if she could get her hands on a stake, some flame, or a shaft of sunlight … none of which seemed likely at present.
The hands smacked both sides of her ass in rhythm, smacked and squeezed, and shredded with nails until she was squirming underneath and swallowing odd little noises, feeling the stickiness of drying blood paint her captor and herself. She heard obscene slurps that seemed purposeful after all the silence. The sick fuck was licking her hands clean! Then that tongue was slurping over her skin like her ass was some kind of blood-flavored lollypop with a juicy filling.
She found herself breathing hard, trying to ignore the rushing sound in her ears as she struggled to get away, her captor's hands curling around her hips and pulling the halves of her ass apart. "No- …"
The top of her body was suddenly hoisted up by the chains connecting her collar and wrists, a move that winded her. The crash landing as she was dropped, though, was the worst as it rubbed her breasts raw, scraped nipples making her cry out in a mouth that was bloody again from a second party with the floor, her face resonating pain from her jaw all the way up past a wrenched-but-unbroken nose to the curve around her left eye.
Her captor double-tapped her side with a knuckle again, this time a bit more insistent.
Quiet. Right. Okay.
She tried to just breathe through it all, stifling a whimper as her wounded ass was squeezed and pulled wide until she could feel her captor's breath like whistled air from her asshole down to her slit. She couldn't help the way her breath became audible as a nose began to nuzzle its way into her most sensitive area, sniffing softly before beginning to lick - a taste of her snatch then higher, flicking against a hole that really wasn't meant to be licked.
"That's just- …"
She gasped and groaned, unsuccessfully trying to pull away as ten nearly pointed nails sunk into her flesh, the two thumbs drawing blood just left and right of center in the crease of her ass. Then she bit her lip to keep from yelling as the nails withdrew only to be replace by a wet mouth, roving and sucking as her captor's tongue pressed into each cut deep enough to keep the blood flowing just a little longer. She felt woozy by the time her captor pulled away and a chill made her chains clink as she tried not to think about where this was headed.
The tongue seeking out her asshole made her clench and she inhaled sharply as it pressed its way into her, a muscle weaving into her body in a way that felt wrong, wrong and weird. Yet, a shudder wound up her back as the tongue snaked in deeper and began to writhe, her body opening around it in a way that had her moaning disgracefully. Her moans became groans, part pleasure, part pain, as the rocking of her body made her breasts drag back and forth across the rough concrete. Her captor continued to fuck into her ass with the full length and width of her tongue, thrusting and swirling with more force and speed until Faith could feel her muscles tensing in ways they shouldn't, mouth releasing breathy cries that couldn't belong to her, and when her clit was brushed just once and pressed like a button by knowing hands, her body dissolved into shudders with the rise and fall of her coming.
The shudders didn't stop, the sensation centers of her brain continuing to be fed by that roving mouth, which had slid down to suck the wetness from her cunt without coming up for air. Then that tongue was pressing in to draw the come out, her pulse unsure if it could go on beating at this rate. When she felt her captor's face shift from smooth to ridged, however, her heart went into overdrive. Her assaulted clit throbbed and twitched under a skilled tongue, even though she desperately wanted to yank her body away and forget the feel of fangs scraping while her deeply bit lips muffled her shouts. Orgasms didn't seem to care if she was bleeding or if the situation was fucked up and wrong. She still shook like a fish on the hook of her captor's tongue.
Eventually, her attacker pulled away and she was alone again, or … not really alone, likely, but … out of contact … as free as she could be with all her limbs chained and bolted down such that her ass was in the air and her face was making friends with the floor. The boots approached again and she tried to relax, knowing it would only hurt more, as something curved and hard was coaxed into her ass before it began wiggling and twisting itself in a timed fashion, stroking her around and around inside. It only ran by itself for a minute, though, before her calves were crushed, cool cloth pressing on flushed skin, as her captor partly kneeled on them and she could feel the sweep of another hard thing just beyond the folds of her cunt. She choked at the thought of someone fucking her like this, but her struggling was getting her nowhere right then and she tried to remember to breathe as a finger slid into her, a guide for something much larger. Her cunt was filled swiftly, a thick length of manufactured cock shoving her open without fanfare, and she tried to categorize her shudder, but it wouldn't fit neatly in the horrified category.
She found herself grunting with every thrust, panting and aching as her head was yanked up by her hair and she was ridden like an animal, the rhythm pounding deeper and faster, maddening. Her knees and shins were screaming, pressed, almost to breaking, into the cement floor as they bore her weight and much of her attacker's. All the action, the twisted up mixture of pleasure and pain, meant that there were words on her now-swollen lips, but she feared another drop to the floor enough to eat her pleas, hoping it would be over soon and she could get back to planning her escape.
One of her breasts was squeezed harshly, jarring her from her half-jumbled thoughts, a whimper escaping her mouth as the nipple, already over-stimulated from dragging over the floor, was pressed and pulled and twisted. Too tender in front, she leaned back into her attacker, mindlessly taking the faux cock deeper before leaning forward and into those torture-happy fingers again, her body not quite understanding that there wasn't any way to truly get away. Her attacker's hand only left her chest to slash a nail down the center, making her yell curses, sputtering, before their agreed-upon volume warning was tapped twice, dangerously low against her mound, and she forced herself to hush.
She breathed hard, still arching into and away from the intruders conquering her body, as fingers began to fiddle with her clit and everything went into sensation overload, the thick nub at the nexus of her pleasure rubbed up and down as speeding thrusts seem to fuck her cunt in two. Then she was coming and it felt like her body was splitting into pieces as she shouted incoherently and her cunt clenched around the slowing piston of her captor's store-bought cock. She tried to be grateful, though she didn't voice it, when her head was gently laid back on the floor and her attacker pulled out and got up. The truth was that she'd come and come and come, but her breath was harsh on her tongue and her blood pumped loudly in her ears because god she didn't want to be here, didn't want to think about what just happened or what would come next.
When her head was lifted again, the touch was still somewhat gentle, but she was tired and stressed, so she groaned anyway, her hope for a respite evaporating as the slick dildo was rubbed over her lips. She grunted "nnh-nnh," her mouth locked tight even though she didn't have enough leeway to really shake her head. It was only seconds, though, before she was freefalling into the floor again with a muffled shout, fresh blood spat to the floor with broken bits as her head was hoisted once more and the tip of the dildo tapped twice against her cheek then repositioned against her mouth.
Blinking and shivering in the darkness, she slowly parted her split lips and began to work her mouth over the cock, her pain audible despite her efforts, as she sucked more of it in and felt it press insistently on her throat. In the past, she'd been able to open up, but with her own blood on her tongue and the constantly mounting stress, it was impossible to relax and she moaned plaintively as the cock kept pressing in without really bending or opening her throat. When her attacker pulled back, she couldn't be grateful or relieved though, not dumb enough to think things would end there. She just took a shaky breath and let her eyes squeeze shut, waiting.
She was right, of course, and her mouth and throat were assaulted, fucked to bruising, as the cock slammed over her lips, teeth, and tongue to ram past the gagging point. Desperately swallowing flavors she wanted off of her tongue, iron and plastic and bile, she struggled to keep from choking or throwing up or both. She thought to bite, if only to slow the speed of the thrusts, but all it did was make her teeth ache until she feared losing them and she let go, feeling herself begin to go slack, counting the moments to the end. There were only a few more pumps of synthetic dick over her lips before her mouth was left empty again. Her hair was still held tightly, though, so she tried to calm her shuddering and breathe at a more useable pace, a speed where her thoughts could catch up to her. Her captor's clothes creaked as she bent or squatted down enough for Faith to feel her breath like a rot-scented breeze and Faith was right there, baring her teeth as she jerked into an intended head-butt. Her attacker was ahead of her, though, dodging away and yanking her hair harder, but when Faith cried out it was from the swift slash of nails down the right side of her face, gouges leaking blood onto her chin.
Trembling from rage as much as fear and pain, Faith sucked in air through her teeth, kicking some part of her in the back of her mind as she reined in her tongue and hated herself for failing and for being here at all. A nail began to paint a trail in blood from her chin, across her jaw, and down the side of her neck before pressing into her jugular vein twice with unwavering precision. She got the message, swallowing and willing her body to still, as her attacker's mouth traced the line of blood back up to her cheek, lapping up the trail with tiny kitten licks until reaching the gashes on her face where long hard swipes could pull new blood out of her system and into her captor's.
She parted her lips soundlessly at the insistence of her captor's tongue, stomach shivering as she tasted more of her own copper and salt. Fresh pain got her groaning again, though, that tongue prodding into every bruise and cut in her mouth until the kiss became a torture intimate enough to make her breath stutter. By the time her captor was through kiss-licking the blood from her mouth, Faith had given up on talking for the day, her mouth aching quietly as her head was set back on the floor.
Slowly, she felt her body being flipped over and she was left to stew in that position, her arms straining painfully as they lay pinned, chains and all, between the rest of her body and the concrete underneath. It made a part of her want to rasp out 'please', to ask for another position or for her wrists to be chained in front instead, but she'd told herself that she was going to quit with the talking for a while and she didn't get the sense that her attacker would be naïve enough to release her wrists even for a moment. Words were a bad strategy anyway as the usual punishment of a lifted and dropped head would do more than just fuck up her face at this angle. She'd end up with a mind-tripping concussion that would be absolutely no help if she was going to try to get out of here alive.
Her thoughts fled as she felt hands brushing up and down her legs before he knees were gripped and pulled apart, the bindings at her ankles keeping everything bent as she became a butterfly below the waist, spreading her wings. The blood loss and leftover pain started to tug on her mind, but she grunted, trying to draw her knees back to the center despite the strength of her captor's hands. The other woman didn't even seem to notice her struggle as such, moving to thread new chain under and over Faith's right leg, just above the knee, before that end of the chain was latched back wherever it came from, somewhere off to her right. The same was done to her left leg, chaining her wide open enough to get her breath rushing through her system like the fear that she was trying shove aside. Then things got quiet for a while, leather or whatever squeaking as her captor stood up and then didn't move again for what seemed like many long minutes.
Faith imagined a set of cat-like eyes taking in the angles and curves of her body, bound by chains in the darkness. If she hadn't been so cold, she might've thought this was Hell, but she knew better, knew the damp smell of something underground, something deep enough for it not to really matter if she screamed, though her captor seemed to like the mindfuck of the silence. Those boots began moving again, though, and she shifted under the unseen scrutiny that she knew was directed at her, a calculating gaze that was probably cataloguing every hitch and hiccough as fodder for some twisted vampiric fantasy.
Her captor lifted her head and she gasped as something was shoved into her mouth - a gag - and quickly buckled under her head, tight enough to make her cheeks hurt, the buckle pressing ungently into the back of her skull. The gag felt heavy in her already sore mouth and as she shifted it, what little she could, into a better position, her nose bumped against the reason why: it extended upwards, who knew how far, like a double-ended dildo with her swallowing the bottom half. Yet, her mouth's distress couldn't drown out the sound of a zipper sliding down.
Her chest shook with arrhythmic breaths that were edging towards hyperventilation as her captor's boots thudded too close to her ears. They seemed to groan under strain and slick fabric-clad knees came down to squeeze her shoulders, straddling the presumed cock that was jutting up from her mouth. Then a throaty sigh broke the silence and Faith felt her face flush, humiliation tiptoeing into her system alongside a fear of suffocation, as the body overhead began to press down.
Her nose twitched at the scent of cunt and ass, her chin scraped by what she could only guess was her captor's waistband. Then her face was all the way there, nose and mouth blocked as nails dragged teasingly across her stomach and her lungs began to spasm in their search for air. She inhaled deeply as hands pressed against her ribs and the cunt above her lifted before settling into a steady rhythm strewn with groans.
In blinks and between breaths, Faith tried to think, knowing she should be working to place the moans, identify her target for later destruction. As the hips overhead began to ride her face and its accessory in earnest, though, all her energy was devoted to breathing and not groaning constantly from the unceasing aches in her mouth. When two sets of nails were clenching their way into her sides as her captor fucked down roughly on her face with a yell, Faith couldn't help but let out her own muffled yell, vainly but brokenly glad that the wet of her attacker's leaking cunt would hide her tears.
Within a dozen more heartbeats, however, panic began to set in when she realized that her captor hadn't gotten up and didn't show any signs of rising. Her head began to throb, pressure building just behind her eyes, and oh god oh god this was not the way she wanted to die. She felt force against her abdomen and briefly wondered if her captor was going to squeeze the air out of her like a toothpaste tube, but then she was breathing again, heaving down air around the plastic in her mouth as the woman pushed up to standing above her head.
A drip of something on her cheek and again on her forehead made her flinch, eyes shutting protectively. Then she could taste as well as smell her attacker's wetness as it began to leak down around the gag until all she could think about was spitting everything out, getting it off of her, out of her, and she shook her head wildly, the back buckle screeching like nails on a chalkboard as it scraped across the cement. She only calmed when boots were pressed in on either side of her head, standing on hair and flattening her ears, and she involuntarily whimpered, fearing that her skull would be stomped into mush on the cold floor.
Material creaked and a cool hand reached down to flatten itself in the valley between her breasts, one finger tapping twice before pausing. Then all she knew was the sound of her own gagged yelling as the right side of her chest was somehow wet and on fire from pain and it was only a blink of a moment before a new yell joined the remnants of the first as the left half of her abdomen joined the right in agony. She smelled blood, too much blood, and felt it gathering in deep places and running off peaks, eventually noting that a thin line of it was beginning to warmly outline her body on the floor.
Her captor straightened and stepped away from her head, walking around to her side before crouching or kneeling down, fingers sweeping over skin that had already been rubbed raw and was now deeply cut and bloody. The licks that began to follow the touches made Faith grunt and groan, half anguish, half thanks, as her abused breasts were cleaned and soothed. Her aching nipples became mines, sending sensations up to explode like blood-tinged fireworks whenever she closed her eyes, and she felt like she was losing her mind. The oral torture made her wild, her eyes blinking blindly up at the obscene object in her mouth as it stifled the worst of her noises. It was almost a relief when deft fingers finally flicked over her clit and she succumbed to orgasm again, shaking and moaning into the gag.
Things weren't really over, though. She knew the constant refrain here, so she wasn't wholly surprised to feel her captor shift down her body to kneel at her feet. Fingers brushed, barely-there, from her ankles to her chained-wide knees and up the inside of her thighs as she bathed in an afterglow that smelled and felt like the residue of war as much as sex. One finger slid into her cunt and she groaned mournfully, like a runner who just saw the finish line get up and jog another mile down the road. She mewled as her inner thigh was quickly shredded, but it was only to be expected, the tap-tap against her g-spot making her hips rise. The blood on her thigh wasn't dripping, she determined, so the cuts were shallow, only scrapes, no matter how much they hurt, so she shut up as best she could, her brain flogging her throat into silence.
A second finger wiggled in beside the first, then a third wedged in too, and she started to breathe a little heavier, faster, her body stretched but working to accommodate all three. They curled and swiped over the vine of nerves along the front wall of her cunt and she found herself fucking her way onto them, unable to settle her hips even though her mind wanted to stop, think, escape, and the rest of her body wanted to repair and sleep. This wasn't about desire so much as reflex. She knew that. She knew that. She was breathing hard and going along because her body was conserving its resistance energy for something painful or something winnable. It was all just reaction, this moment of her swallowing the tang of plastic while she rode her captor's fingers quietly, as requested- … as required.
The press of the fourth finger into her cunt, though slow, made her movements stutter and she grunted her discomfort, but her attacker pushed on, straining her opening until it ached, reaching its limits. There was more on the way, though. Four fingers and a thumb folded in and slowly shoved her open, her hips halting and working to retreat as she bit the gag to keep from screaming. The pressure built and built until her whole world had narrowed to the feel of a human hand stuffing its width and length into her, and then … she held her breath, dizzy, when the pressure seemed to pop gently, her entrance closing around her captor's wrist.
She floated for a long moment, her body seeming light and distant but for the large and heavy hand that was filling her up, like it was trying to reach her internal workings through her cunt. Her breath hitched on the verge of a whine as the hand inside turned, knuckles shifting to slide sensation along different parts of her inner walls, and she could barely get full inhales and exhales to cycle through as the hand twisted and twisted and then began to slide subtly deeper and shallower, deeper and shallower. It was like more than her cunt was being filled, being fucked. Her whole body felt invaded, stroked, and aching, and a tremble started in her middle and spiraled out and out as that hand fucked her with more force and speed until she was crying out, sweating and screaming as her whole body seemed to seize up fitfully then crash, wholly limp.
When the echo faded in her ears, she winced from top to bottom as her attacker's hand slid out and away from her raw hole. Exhaustion even meant that she didn't have the energy to be shocked when she heard that hand being licked sloppily above her, though the feel of something wet dripping onto her stomach made her shiver. As things became quiet again, however, she couldn't help but shudder, thinking about her attacker bending over her, plotting the next moments of debauchery and torture.
She wasn't prepared to feel the full weight of her captor dropping down to lay on her body, her limbs tense under the crush, her skin reacting to the sliding leather-like material, and her lungs beginning to riot, less from the pressure and more from the claustrophobic closeness. Fingers slid under her head, though, undoing the latch on her gag and tossing it away and she tried to contain her shudders as she came face-to-face and body-to-body with an attacker that she still couldn't see. She held her lips tightly closed as her captor's mouth moved over her own, but the double-tap on her jaw brought home the insistence on compliance and she opened, allowing her mouth to be plundered again, this time tasting her own come as well as her blood as she struggled not to seem weak or intimidated even though she was screaming on the inside.
There was a snap somewhere out in the darkness and her attacker paused all movement, but for her turning head, seeming to look or listen for something. Then she gave Faith a final brush of lips-against-lips and snaked back up to standing, stepping away. Another snap fired, this time closer, her captor's response, and a ball of light blazed overhead, blinding Faith for a moment as her eyes adjusted, hazy at first, then clearer. Black and burgundy leather came into view, tightly covering curves that led to sharp lines of pale skin and features drawn up in a vampire's visage. The hair was black again and short, but it was painfully easy to see the resemblance.
"Willow?" Her voice sounded as torn up as her mouth felt, but it was really the sight of her captor that hurt more than anything else right then. She thought she might be sick as the vampire who used to be an ally, an almost-though-always-wary friend, cocked her head to the side and peered at her curiously before her lips flashed into a cheery grin and her demonic face fell away.
"You're a good kitty."
Swallowing, Faith's brain ramped into top speed, trying to figure out how this could have happened, who would be bold enough, skilled enough, to get and turn Willow.
A voice emerged from the shadows of the room as a man strolled closer to Willow and the light. "Didn't I tell you she would be?" He slid an arm around Willow's waist and pulled her into his side, his face making Faith shake even as her lip turned up in disgust.
"Angelus."
"Been a while, hasn't it?" He chuckled softly. "I thought you could do with a proper hello and my little girl was having her first birthday with me, so I thought - hey, why not kill two birds with one stone? Or … something like that."
Faith's earlier struggling resumed, but she'd lost too much blood and she was too tightly restrained to do more than hurt herself. The arms pinned under her weren't even warm enough to be useful so there'd be pins-and-needles for a while even if she did get free. Angelus' lip-licking made her struggle harder, though, even knowing that she could - and would - face her end without tears if this was really it. She shuddered as he advanced toward her, but she refused to beg, locking away every word she knew that wasn't steeped in contempt. "You're gonna die on the end of a stick, you sick fuck, and I hope to god it hurts!"
"Is that all you've got?" His tongue made a tisk-tisk-tisk sound behind his teeth and he shook his head, stopping just beyond her very meager circle of thrashing. "I'm disappointed, Faith. I thought you'd be- … I dunno- … More challenging? More- …"
"Daddy?" Willow ducked under his arm, playfully distracting him as she curled into his body and batted eyelashes that Faith knew weren't made to act this flirty, this naughty, though they seemed to manage just fine.
"Yes, princess?"
"Can't I keep the kitty?"
Faith found her mouth opening though no words were coming out, but then she was shaking her head vehemently, her abused legs and arms suffering as she worked in vain to get free. "No!" She would really, really rather die, but the conversing vampires completely ignored her.
"Now, honey, you know she was only for the party. Don't you want to drink your birthday cake?"
Willow's eyes, flickering golden, moved from Angelus to Faith and back again as she purred with a pout in her lips. "Such a good kitty. Wanna play more. Can't we get dinner later?"
Angelus shook his head slowly, uncertain, but his fanged mouth tilted into a reluctant smile like a real father indulging his little girl. "I don't want to have to think about her, Will. So, if you really, really want to do this, you have to keep her chained up tight at all times. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, daddy."
"No!" There was a jackhammer in Faith's stomach as her worst nightmares were negotiated beside her chained body. "No! No no no no no! Hell no!"
"And if you want her to last, you'll have to keep her fed and watered and try to eat something before you play."
"I can do that." Willow nodded, her eyes wide as she played to childlike seriousness.
"No! Did you not just here me?! No!" Both of her captors continued to act as though there were no voices in the room but their own. "Just- … I don't care. Just- … Kill me already!"
"And if you can't keep her out of trouble, I'm going to have to punish you. You know that, right?"
Willow actually seemed to shiver, but her smile only grew. "I know, daddy. I'll make her a good kitty."
"NO!"
"Alright." He nodded slowly, agreeing to let Willow be responsible for a new pet. "You can keep her … but aren't you gonna let Daddy have a taste before you wear her out today?"
Willow bit her lip coyly, tilting her head. "I guess so."
"No." Faith's voice was shaking and she sounded weak even to herself, but this couldn't- … she couldn't- … "No."
Angelus just grinned, tongue tracing his fangs as his thumb outlined Willow's lips. "There's my good girl." Then there was deep dark laughter in his throat and his eyes were only for Faith.
Author:
eboniorchidFandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel the Series
Characters: Mystery Woman/Faith Lehane (or highlight the following for the exact pairing: Vamp!Willow Rosenberg/Faith Lehane)
Prompt: "It wasn't supposed to be like this" from
storydivagirl's First Line Meme.Word Count: ~5,700 words.
Rating: NC-17 for violence, sexuality, and language.
Warnings/Spoilers: No spoilers. DARK! BLOOD! VIOLENCE! Non-con. Angst. Humiliation. Rimming. Double penetration. Fisting. Facesitting. Breath play. Impact play (spanking). Bondage. Gags. Toys. Daddy!kink (a little). Implied het, age play, role play, and BDSM (D/s and M/s). Mentions of past character death (vamping). PWP. Femslash. Smut. Graphic f/f sex. AU from an unspecified point.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really. Nothing.
Summary: Who's a good kitty?
Beta:
brynwulfAuthor's Notes: My first fanfic in this fandom. Inspired by
storydivagirl's First Line Meme. This may also be belatedly inspired by phantisma's story "The Prize", though it would be quite an AU of that AU. You don't actually need to know this fandom or these characters to enjoy the fic.It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was the slayer- … a slayer- … and she was fucking Faith Lehane. Since when did that mean being chained … naked … on her knees … on the floor … in the dark? She should be in bed, but this was all far too real to be a dream and she shouted, struggling in her bonds.
"Hey! What is this shit, huh?!" The feel of the room, the dark, and the churning in her gut said this probably wasn't a practical joke, but … "Not funny, guys! Seriously, not fucking funny!"
No one answered her and she realized with a silent gulp that the dark wasn't just at-night dark. It was pitch-black dark, like all the ambient light had been stolen and hidden away. She switched her tactics, focusing on pressing her strength out against what should have been weak points in the metal, at her wrists and at her ankles, but … all they did was jingle a little bondage tune. Trying to jerk her legs up, she fought to stand or dislodge them from their position, but she was bolted to the floor somehow and the chains, the cuffs, shouldn't have held her - not her, not a slayer. Yet, all she was doing was tiring herself out.
The thud of boots on the cement floor behind her made her still, calculating even in her anger. "Hey you, whoever you are! When I get out of here- …"
Her face hit the floor, hard, her whole body tipped forward from one harsh kick in the back, her breasts scraping against the cement in some aching counterpoint. She was dazed and tasted blood, but she was also clever and she turned to put her ear to the floor, listening for clues about this place and how the fuck to get out of it. Unfortunately, though, she could hear nothing but her captor's footsteps.
"Okay, so threats aren't your thing. Is there something- …"
Her words broke off in a yell as a boot crunched crisscrossing chains into her spine, making her body bend in truly unnatural ways, and when it pulled away, she really thought about saying a whole hell of a lot, but there was a ripple of doubt in her gut, a ripple of fear.
"If you want me to be quiet, just … tap my side twice."
The double-tap came, almost seeming tender after the ruthless moments just before.
"Okay."
She heard the squeak of some kind of material, leather or pleather or maybe rubber and could almost feel the breath of someone squatting down beside her. The fingers that ran through her hair belonged to smallish hands, maybe a woman's- … yes, there were longer-than-typical nails scraping over her scalp and down to draw up goosebumps between her nape and the collar wrapped around her neck. Wracking her brain, she tried to remember any female enemies she'd pissed off without killing lately and she really couldn't recall anyone, which didn't help ground all the bugs whizzing about in her stomach. If this was a new baddie in town, then her intel was crap or compromised, either of which would mean that help wasn't coming.
She shivered as nails scraped down her bare back, hopping lines of chain when necessary, before tracing delicate figure eights on the left side of her ass, her captor shifting into a crouch behind her. "Umm- …"
She yelped as a palm connected with her ass, not holding anything back, then the nails that had been sweet became vicious, scraping deep enough to draw lines of blood. It was a testament to her captor's strategies, though, that the tongue tracing the blood over her ass was both hateful and soothing. Then a knuckle was knocking twice on her side, gently.
"Be quiet. Right."
When the nails slashed down the right side of her ass, she just mewled and bit her lip, shuddering as each line was mouthed over, her captor's lips smearing the blood before lapping it up. Well, seemed like she was probably dealing with a vamp. That didn't narrow things down all that much, but at least she would know how to kill it … if she could get her hands on a stake, some flame, or a shaft of sunlight … none of which seemed likely at present.
The hands smacked both sides of her ass in rhythm, smacked and squeezed, and shredded with nails until she was squirming underneath and swallowing odd little noises, feeling the stickiness of drying blood paint her captor and herself. She heard obscene slurps that seemed purposeful after all the silence. The sick fuck was licking her hands clean! Then that tongue was slurping over her skin like her ass was some kind of blood-flavored lollypop with a juicy filling.
She found herself breathing hard, trying to ignore the rushing sound in her ears as she struggled to get away, her captor's hands curling around her hips and pulling the halves of her ass apart. "No- …"
The top of her body was suddenly hoisted up by the chains connecting her collar and wrists, a move that winded her. The crash landing as she was dropped, though, was the worst as it rubbed her breasts raw, scraped nipples making her cry out in a mouth that was bloody again from a second party with the floor, her face resonating pain from her jaw all the way up past a wrenched-but-unbroken nose to the curve around her left eye.
Her captor double-tapped her side with a knuckle again, this time a bit more insistent.
Quiet. Right. Okay.
She tried to just breathe through it all, stifling a whimper as her wounded ass was squeezed and pulled wide until she could feel her captor's breath like whistled air from her asshole down to her slit. She couldn't help the way her breath became audible as a nose began to nuzzle its way into her most sensitive area, sniffing softly before beginning to lick - a taste of her snatch then higher, flicking against a hole that really wasn't meant to be licked.
"That's just- …"
She gasped and groaned, unsuccessfully trying to pull away as ten nearly pointed nails sunk into her flesh, the two thumbs drawing blood just left and right of center in the crease of her ass. Then she bit her lip to keep from yelling as the nails withdrew only to be replace by a wet mouth, roving and sucking as her captor's tongue pressed into each cut deep enough to keep the blood flowing just a little longer. She felt woozy by the time her captor pulled away and a chill made her chains clink as she tried not to think about where this was headed.
The tongue seeking out her asshole made her clench and she inhaled sharply as it pressed its way into her, a muscle weaving into her body in a way that felt wrong, wrong and weird. Yet, a shudder wound up her back as the tongue snaked in deeper and began to writhe, her body opening around it in a way that had her moaning disgracefully. Her moans became groans, part pleasure, part pain, as the rocking of her body made her breasts drag back and forth across the rough concrete. Her captor continued to fuck into her ass with the full length and width of her tongue, thrusting and swirling with more force and speed until Faith could feel her muscles tensing in ways they shouldn't, mouth releasing breathy cries that couldn't belong to her, and when her clit was brushed just once and pressed like a button by knowing hands, her body dissolved into shudders with the rise and fall of her coming.
The shudders didn't stop, the sensation centers of her brain continuing to be fed by that roving mouth, which had slid down to suck the wetness from her cunt without coming up for air. Then that tongue was pressing in to draw the come out, her pulse unsure if it could go on beating at this rate. When she felt her captor's face shift from smooth to ridged, however, her heart went into overdrive. Her assaulted clit throbbed and twitched under a skilled tongue, even though she desperately wanted to yank her body away and forget the feel of fangs scraping while her deeply bit lips muffled her shouts. Orgasms didn't seem to care if she was bleeding or if the situation was fucked up and wrong. She still shook like a fish on the hook of her captor's tongue.
Eventually, her attacker pulled away and she was alone again, or … not really alone, likely, but … out of contact … as free as she could be with all her limbs chained and bolted down such that her ass was in the air and her face was making friends with the floor. The boots approached again and she tried to relax, knowing it would only hurt more, as something curved and hard was coaxed into her ass before it began wiggling and twisting itself in a timed fashion, stroking her around and around inside. It only ran by itself for a minute, though, before her calves were crushed, cool cloth pressing on flushed skin, as her captor partly kneeled on them and she could feel the sweep of another hard thing just beyond the folds of her cunt. She choked at the thought of someone fucking her like this, but her struggling was getting her nowhere right then and she tried to remember to breathe as a finger slid into her, a guide for something much larger. Her cunt was filled swiftly, a thick length of manufactured cock shoving her open without fanfare, and she tried to categorize her shudder, but it wouldn't fit neatly in the horrified category.
She found herself grunting with every thrust, panting and aching as her head was yanked up by her hair and she was ridden like an animal, the rhythm pounding deeper and faster, maddening. Her knees and shins were screaming, pressed, almost to breaking, into the cement floor as they bore her weight and much of her attacker's. All the action, the twisted up mixture of pleasure and pain, meant that there were words on her now-swollen lips, but she feared another drop to the floor enough to eat her pleas, hoping it would be over soon and she could get back to planning her escape.
One of her breasts was squeezed harshly, jarring her from her half-jumbled thoughts, a whimper escaping her mouth as the nipple, already over-stimulated from dragging over the floor, was pressed and pulled and twisted. Too tender in front, she leaned back into her attacker, mindlessly taking the faux cock deeper before leaning forward and into those torture-happy fingers again, her body not quite understanding that there wasn't any way to truly get away. Her attacker's hand only left her chest to slash a nail down the center, making her yell curses, sputtering, before their agreed-upon volume warning was tapped twice, dangerously low against her mound, and she forced herself to hush.
She breathed hard, still arching into and away from the intruders conquering her body, as fingers began to fiddle with her clit and everything went into sensation overload, the thick nub at the nexus of her pleasure rubbed up and down as speeding thrusts seem to fuck her cunt in two. Then she was coming and it felt like her body was splitting into pieces as she shouted incoherently and her cunt clenched around the slowing piston of her captor's store-bought cock. She tried to be grateful, though she didn't voice it, when her head was gently laid back on the floor and her attacker pulled out and got up. The truth was that she'd come and come and come, but her breath was harsh on her tongue and her blood pumped loudly in her ears because god she didn't want to be here, didn't want to think about what just happened or what would come next.
When her head was lifted again, the touch was still somewhat gentle, but she was tired and stressed, so she groaned anyway, her hope for a respite evaporating as the slick dildo was rubbed over her lips. She grunted "nnh-nnh," her mouth locked tight even though she didn't have enough leeway to really shake her head. It was only seconds, though, before she was freefalling into the floor again with a muffled shout, fresh blood spat to the floor with broken bits as her head was hoisted once more and the tip of the dildo tapped twice against her cheek then repositioned against her mouth.
Blinking and shivering in the darkness, she slowly parted her split lips and began to work her mouth over the cock, her pain audible despite her efforts, as she sucked more of it in and felt it press insistently on her throat. In the past, she'd been able to open up, but with her own blood on her tongue and the constantly mounting stress, it was impossible to relax and she moaned plaintively as the cock kept pressing in without really bending or opening her throat. When her attacker pulled back, she couldn't be grateful or relieved though, not dumb enough to think things would end there. She just took a shaky breath and let her eyes squeeze shut, waiting.
She was right, of course, and her mouth and throat were assaulted, fucked to bruising, as the cock slammed over her lips, teeth, and tongue to ram past the gagging point. Desperately swallowing flavors she wanted off of her tongue, iron and plastic and bile, she struggled to keep from choking or throwing up or both. She thought to bite, if only to slow the speed of the thrusts, but all it did was make her teeth ache until she feared losing them and she let go, feeling herself begin to go slack, counting the moments to the end. There were only a few more pumps of synthetic dick over her lips before her mouth was left empty again. Her hair was still held tightly, though, so she tried to calm her shuddering and breathe at a more useable pace, a speed where her thoughts could catch up to her. Her captor's clothes creaked as she bent or squatted down enough for Faith to feel her breath like a rot-scented breeze and Faith was right there, baring her teeth as she jerked into an intended head-butt. Her attacker was ahead of her, though, dodging away and yanking her hair harder, but when Faith cried out it was from the swift slash of nails down the right side of her face, gouges leaking blood onto her chin.
Trembling from rage as much as fear and pain, Faith sucked in air through her teeth, kicking some part of her in the back of her mind as she reined in her tongue and hated herself for failing and for being here at all. A nail began to paint a trail in blood from her chin, across her jaw, and down the side of her neck before pressing into her jugular vein twice with unwavering precision. She got the message, swallowing and willing her body to still, as her attacker's mouth traced the line of blood back up to her cheek, lapping up the trail with tiny kitten licks until reaching the gashes on her face where long hard swipes could pull new blood out of her system and into her captor's.
She parted her lips soundlessly at the insistence of her captor's tongue, stomach shivering as she tasted more of her own copper and salt. Fresh pain got her groaning again, though, that tongue prodding into every bruise and cut in her mouth until the kiss became a torture intimate enough to make her breath stutter. By the time her captor was through kiss-licking the blood from her mouth, Faith had given up on talking for the day, her mouth aching quietly as her head was set back on the floor.
Slowly, she felt her body being flipped over and she was left to stew in that position, her arms straining painfully as they lay pinned, chains and all, between the rest of her body and the concrete underneath. It made a part of her want to rasp out 'please', to ask for another position or for her wrists to be chained in front instead, but she'd told herself that she was going to quit with the talking for a while and she didn't get the sense that her attacker would be naïve enough to release her wrists even for a moment. Words were a bad strategy anyway as the usual punishment of a lifted and dropped head would do more than just fuck up her face at this angle. She'd end up with a mind-tripping concussion that would be absolutely no help if she was going to try to get out of here alive.
Her thoughts fled as she felt hands brushing up and down her legs before he knees were gripped and pulled apart, the bindings at her ankles keeping everything bent as she became a butterfly below the waist, spreading her wings. The blood loss and leftover pain started to tug on her mind, but she grunted, trying to draw her knees back to the center despite the strength of her captor's hands. The other woman didn't even seem to notice her struggle as such, moving to thread new chain under and over Faith's right leg, just above the knee, before that end of the chain was latched back wherever it came from, somewhere off to her right. The same was done to her left leg, chaining her wide open enough to get her breath rushing through her system like the fear that she was trying shove aside. Then things got quiet for a while, leather or whatever squeaking as her captor stood up and then didn't move again for what seemed like many long minutes.
Faith imagined a set of cat-like eyes taking in the angles and curves of her body, bound by chains in the darkness. If she hadn't been so cold, she might've thought this was Hell, but she knew better, knew the damp smell of something underground, something deep enough for it not to really matter if she screamed, though her captor seemed to like the mindfuck of the silence. Those boots began moving again, though, and she shifted under the unseen scrutiny that she knew was directed at her, a calculating gaze that was probably cataloguing every hitch and hiccough as fodder for some twisted vampiric fantasy.
Her captor lifted her head and she gasped as something was shoved into her mouth - a gag - and quickly buckled under her head, tight enough to make her cheeks hurt, the buckle pressing ungently into the back of her skull. The gag felt heavy in her already sore mouth and as she shifted it, what little she could, into a better position, her nose bumped against the reason why: it extended upwards, who knew how far, like a double-ended dildo with her swallowing the bottom half. Yet, her mouth's distress couldn't drown out the sound of a zipper sliding down.
Her chest shook with arrhythmic breaths that were edging towards hyperventilation as her captor's boots thudded too close to her ears. They seemed to groan under strain and slick fabric-clad knees came down to squeeze her shoulders, straddling the presumed cock that was jutting up from her mouth. Then a throaty sigh broke the silence and Faith felt her face flush, humiliation tiptoeing into her system alongside a fear of suffocation, as the body overhead began to press down.
Her nose twitched at the scent of cunt and ass, her chin scraped by what she could only guess was her captor's waistband. Then her face was all the way there, nose and mouth blocked as nails dragged teasingly across her stomach and her lungs began to spasm in their search for air. She inhaled deeply as hands pressed against her ribs and the cunt above her lifted before settling into a steady rhythm strewn with groans.
In blinks and between breaths, Faith tried to think, knowing she should be working to place the moans, identify her target for later destruction. As the hips overhead began to ride her face and its accessory in earnest, though, all her energy was devoted to breathing and not groaning constantly from the unceasing aches in her mouth. When two sets of nails were clenching their way into her sides as her captor fucked down roughly on her face with a yell, Faith couldn't help but let out her own muffled yell, vainly but brokenly glad that the wet of her attacker's leaking cunt would hide her tears.
Within a dozen more heartbeats, however, panic began to set in when she realized that her captor hadn't gotten up and didn't show any signs of rising. Her head began to throb, pressure building just behind her eyes, and oh god oh god this was not the way she wanted to die. She felt force against her abdomen and briefly wondered if her captor was going to squeeze the air out of her like a toothpaste tube, but then she was breathing again, heaving down air around the plastic in her mouth as the woman pushed up to standing above her head.
A drip of something on her cheek and again on her forehead made her flinch, eyes shutting protectively. Then she could taste as well as smell her attacker's wetness as it began to leak down around the gag until all she could think about was spitting everything out, getting it off of her, out of her, and she shook her head wildly, the back buckle screeching like nails on a chalkboard as it scraped across the cement. She only calmed when boots were pressed in on either side of her head, standing on hair and flattening her ears, and she involuntarily whimpered, fearing that her skull would be stomped into mush on the cold floor.
Material creaked and a cool hand reached down to flatten itself in the valley between her breasts, one finger tapping twice before pausing. Then all she knew was the sound of her own gagged yelling as the right side of her chest was somehow wet and on fire from pain and it was only a blink of a moment before a new yell joined the remnants of the first as the left half of her abdomen joined the right in agony. She smelled blood, too much blood, and felt it gathering in deep places and running off peaks, eventually noting that a thin line of it was beginning to warmly outline her body on the floor.
Her captor straightened and stepped away from her head, walking around to her side before crouching or kneeling down, fingers sweeping over skin that had already been rubbed raw and was now deeply cut and bloody. The licks that began to follow the touches made Faith grunt and groan, half anguish, half thanks, as her abused breasts were cleaned and soothed. Her aching nipples became mines, sending sensations up to explode like blood-tinged fireworks whenever she closed her eyes, and she felt like she was losing her mind. The oral torture made her wild, her eyes blinking blindly up at the obscene object in her mouth as it stifled the worst of her noises. It was almost a relief when deft fingers finally flicked over her clit and she succumbed to orgasm again, shaking and moaning into the gag.
Things weren't really over, though. She knew the constant refrain here, so she wasn't wholly surprised to feel her captor shift down her body to kneel at her feet. Fingers brushed, barely-there, from her ankles to her chained-wide knees and up the inside of her thighs as she bathed in an afterglow that smelled and felt like the residue of war as much as sex. One finger slid into her cunt and she groaned mournfully, like a runner who just saw the finish line get up and jog another mile down the road. She mewled as her inner thigh was quickly shredded, but it was only to be expected, the tap-tap against her g-spot making her hips rise. The blood on her thigh wasn't dripping, she determined, so the cuts were shallow, only scrapes, no matter how much they hurt, so she shut up as best she could, her brain flogging her throat into silence.
A second finger wiggled in beside the first, then a third wedged in too, and she started to breathe a little heavier, faster, her body stretched but working to accommodate all three. They curled and swiped over the vine of nerves along the front wall of her cunt and she found herself fucking her way onto them, unable to settle her hips even though her mind wanted to stop, think, escape, and the rest of her body wanted to repair and sleep. This wasn't about desire so much as reflex. She knew that. She knew that. She was breathing hard and going along because her body was conserving its resistance energy for something painful or something winnable. It was all just reaction, this moment of her swallowing the tang of plastic while she rode her captor's fingers quietly, as requested- … as required.
The press of the fourth finger into her cunt, though slow, made her movements stutter and she grunted her discomfort, but her attacker pushed on, straining her opening until it ached, reaching its limits. There was more on the way, though. Four fingers and a thumb folded in and slowly shoved her open, her hips halting and working to retreat as she bit the gag to keep from screaming. The pressure built and built until her whole world had narrowed to the feel of a human hand stuffing its width and length into her, and then … she held her breath, dizzy, when the pressure seemed to pop gently, her entrance closing around her captor's wrist.
She floated for a long moment, her body seeming light and distant but for the large and heavy hand that was filling her up, like it was trying to reach her internal workings through her cunt. Her breath hitched on the verge of a whine as the hand inside turned, knuckles shifting to slide sensation along different parts of her inner walls, and she could barely get full inhales and exhales to cycle through as the hand twisted and twisted and then began to slide subtly deeper and shallower, deeper and shallower. It was like more than her cunt was being filled, being fucked. Her whole body felt invaded, stroked, and aching, and a tremble started in her middle and spiraled out and out as that hand fucked her with more force and speed until she was crying out, sweating and screaming as her whole body seemed to seize up fitfully then crash, wholly limp.
When the echo faded in her ears, she winced from top to bottom as her attacker's hand slid out and away from her raw hole. Exhaustion even meant that she didn't have the energy to be shocked when she heard that hand being licked sloppily above her, though the feel of something wet dripping onto her stomach made her shiver. As things became quiet again, however, she couldn't help but shudder, thinking about her attacker bending over her, plotting the next moments of debauchery and torture.
She wasn't prepared to feel the full weight of her captor dropping down to lay on her body, her limbs tense under the crush, her skin reacting to the sliding leather-like material, and her lungs beginning to riot, less from the pressure and more from the claustrophobic closeness. Fingers slid under her head, though, undoing the latch on her gag and tossing it away and she tried to contain her shudders as she came face-to-face and body-to-body with an attacker that she still couldn't see. She held her lips tightly closed as her captor's mouth moved over her own, but the double-tap on her jaw brought home the insistence on compliance and she opened, allowing her mouth to be plundered again, this time tasting her own come as well as her blood as she struggled not to seem weak or intimidated even though she was screaming on the inside.
There was a snap somewhere out in the darkness and her attacker paused all movement, but for her turning head, seeming to look or listen for something. Then she gave Faith a final brush of lips-against-lips and snaked back up to standing, stepping away. Another snap fired, this time closer, her captor's response, and a ball of light blazed overhead, blinding Faith for a moment as her eyes adjusted, hazy at first, then clearer. Black and burgundy leather came into view, tightly covering curves that led to sharp lines of pale skin and features drawn up in a vampire's visage. The hair was black again and short, but it was painfully easy to see the resemblance.
"Willow?" Her voice sounded as torn up as her mouth felt, but it was really the sight of her captor that hurt more than anything else right then. She thought she might be sick as the vampire who used to be an ally, an almost-though-always-wary friend, cocked her head to the side and peered at her curiously before her lips flashed into a cheery grin and her demonic face fell away.
"You're a good kitty."
Swallowing, Faith's brain ramped into top speed, trying to figure out how this could have happened, who would be bold enough, skilled enough, to get and turn Willow.
A voice emerged from the shadows of the room as a man strolled closer to Willow and the light. "Didn't I tell you she would be?" He slid an arm around Willow's waist and pulled her into his side, his face making Faith shake even as her lip turned up in disgust.
"Angelus."
"Been a while, hasn't it?" He chuckled softly. "I thought you could do with a proper hello and my little girl was having her first birthday with me, so I thought - hey, why not kill two birds with one stone? Or … something like that."
Faith's earlier struggling resumed, but she'd lost too much blood and she was too tightly restrained to do more than hurt herself. The arms pinned under her weren't even warm enough to be useful so there'd be pins-and-needles for a while even if she did get free. Angelus' lip-licking made her struggle harder, though, even knowing that she could - and would - face her end without tears if this was really it. She shuddered as he advanced toward her, but she refused to beg, locking away every word she knew that wasn't steeped in contempt. "You're gonna die on the end of a stick, you sick fuck, and I hope to god it hurts!"
"Is that all you've got?" His tongue made a tisk-tisk-tisk sound behind his teeth and he shook his head, stopping just beyond her very meager circle of thrashing. "I'm disappointed, Faith. I thought you'd be- … I dunno- … More challenging? More- …"
"Daddy?" Willow ducked under his arm, playfully distracting him as she curled into his body and batted eyelashes that Faith knew weren't made to act this flirty, this naughty, though they seemed to manage just fine.
"Yes, princess?"
"Can't I keep the kitty?"
Faith found her mouth opening though no words were coming out, but then she was shaking her head vehemently, her abused legs and arms suffering as she worked in vain to get free. "No!" She would really, really rather die, but the conversing vampires completely ignored her.
"Now, honey, you know she was only for the party. Don't you want to drink your birthday cake?"
Willow's eyes, flickering golden, moved from Angelus to Faith and back again as she purred with a pout in her lips. "Such a good kitty. Wanna play more. Can't we get dinner later?"
Angelus shook his head slowly, uncertain, but his fanged mouth tilted into a reluctant smile like a real father indulging his little girl. "I don't want to have to think about her, Will. So, if you really, really want to do this, you have to keep her chained up tight at all times. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, daddy."
"No!" There was a jackhammer in Faith's stomach as her worst nightmares were negotiated beside her chained body. "No! No no no no no! Hell no!"
"And if you want her to last, you'll have to keep her fed and watered and try to eat something before you play."
"I can do that." Willow nodded, her eyes wide as she played to childlike seriousness.
"No! Did you not just here me?! No!" Both of her captors continued to act as though there were no voices in the room but their own. "Just- … I don't care. Just- … Kill me already!"
"And if you can't keep her out of trouble, I'm going to have to punish you. You know that, right?"
Willow actually seemed to shiver, but her smile only grew. "I know, daddy. I'll make her a good kitty."
"NO!"
"Alright." He nodded slowly, agreeing to let Willow be responsible for a new pet. "You can keep her … but aren't you gonna let Daddy have a taste before you wear her out today?"
Willow bit her lip coyly, tilting her head. "I guess so."
"No." Faith's voice was shaking and she sounded weak even to herself, but this couldn't- … she couldn't- … "No."
Angelus just grinned, tongue tracing his fangs as his thumb outlined Willow's lips. "There's my good girl." Then there was deep dark laughter in his throat and his eyes were only for Faith.
Tags:
- !fanfic,
- category: femslash,
- challenge: other,
- character: angel(us),
- character: faith lehane,
- character: willow rosenberg,
- fandom: angel the series,
- fandom: buffy the vampire slayer,
- fic universe: btvs/ats pseudo-canon,
- genre: angst!fic,
- genre: au!fic,
- genre: dark!fic,
- genre: first-time!fic,
- genre: kink!fic,
- genre: pwp!fic,
- genre: smut!fic,
- kink: age play,
- kink: bdsm,
- kink: bondage,
- kink: breath play,
- kink: domination/submission,
- kink: double-penetration,
- kink: facesitting,
- kink: fisting,
- kink: gags,
- kink: humiliation,
- kink: impact play,
- kink: non-consent,
- kink: rimming,
- kink: roleplay,
- kink: spanking,
- kink: toys,
- kink: voyeurism,
- pairing: willow/faith,
- rating: nc-17,
- warning: blood,
- warning: violence
