Digressions - Nihilistbear's Writings

Warning: The Fiction On This Site Sometimes Contains Graphic Adult Situations. If you aren't old enough to read the stories marked NC-17, please don't.

My Writings Reccomendations And Links E-Mail Me Journal

Family And Other Tortures Author’s Note: A series of twenty four drabbles, complete with pretentious roman numerals. Set in the past, a while after Spike was turned, but before “The Girl In Question”. Angelus/William, William/Drusilla, Angelus/William/Drusilla. Rated: NC-17 for the whole series of drabbles. Be safe. Whipping, prostitution, threesome sex. ~~~~~~ i. “William!” Oh, Angelus is angry at something he’s done again. Not that he’s shocked, and really, he’s done plenty today to cause that tone of voice. He thrusts inside Drusilla faster, spurred by her moans, hoping to get off before Angelus catches him. No such luck. As he’s about to come, Angelus grabs him round the shoulders and drags him off Drusilla. He howls and Angelus strikes him across the face, hard. He hears his cheekbone crack and winces. That’ll take an age to heal. “And this too?” he growls. “Boy, you’re not leaving my room for the next week.” ii. “You know why you’re here?” Angelus hisses, pacing the room. Maybe he’s a little self-assured for someone naked and bent over an armchair, but William’s feeling cocky. “I’m sure you’ll inform me shortly.” Angelus’ low growl rolls across the room. He has enough sense to worry a little. Angelus can be mean when he wants to be, and he’s clearly ready to be mean now. “No, you’re going to tell me what you think you did wrong. When you guess right, we’ll get to the punishment.” “How you gonna-” The lash falls across his back, cutting deep. He screams. Oh. That’s how. iii. He’s held out pretty good. Fifty lashes. Sixty-three. Seventy-nine. Eighty- six. By a hundred, he can’t hold out anymore, not when he’s desperate for what he knows comes after the punishment. See, he knows this isn’t just about punishing him for some oft-imagined slight. This is about making him want the pain, and it’s worked only too well. please angelus i beg you in his head but all he can voice is a whimpered “Sire.” Angelus smiles, and William’s ready to do whatever it takes to make him smile like that forever. Oh, they’re a fucked up little family. iv. “Well?” Angelus asks calmly. Angelus doesn’t get impatient with this whole punishment thing. He likes it. William figures he can keep Angelus happy for millennia if he’s just disobedient to something each and every day. “Scuffing your shoes?” William murmurs. The blood’s pouring off him now, the smell driving him insane. Another fall of the lash, and William twitches in his bonds. “No,” Angelus murmured. “Care to try again, boy?” “Leaving my clothes lying about?” he tries, and he knows, he knows it wasn’t these things, but the lash, and Angelus’ voice… Another hit, and he moans loudly. “No,” Angelus purrs. “Try again.” v. “Have you figured it out yet?” Angelus asks. William knows his back is nothing but blood now, and he really has run through all he can remember doing to bring this down upon himself. Except… “Sleeping with Dru and not asking,” he pants, worn out, and this isn’t fun any more, the pain’s too much. He’s not going to get any pleasure tonight, even if Angelus fucks him, because it all hurts, and nothing can make him forget that. “No, that’s another thing entirely,” Angelus growls, and William tenses, ready for another fall of the lash. But it doesn’t come. “Sire?” vi. The lash flies through the air, hits the chair instead of his back.. Angelus grabs his chin firmly, makes William look at him. “I expected you to be in my bed, when I returned!” Angelus roars. “I expected my boy to be lying there, and you weren’t!” He lets go of William’s face, walks away. “I’m through with you,” he says softly. “Dru!” he yells. “Untie the boy, clean him up, feed him.” Cold eyes look back at William, he can feel them if he can’t see them. “I don’t wish to see you for the rest of this week,” he said flatly. vii. On the fifth day, the door to his room slams open. Darla enters, fury in her eyes, dragging a girl behind her. He’s refused everything Drusilla brought, and he’s not yet healed. “You will eat, brat,” Darla hisses. “You will heal, and you will beg Angelus for forgiveness if I have to throw you on your knees before him myself. I’ll be damned if I’m living with Angelus’ temper and Drusilla’s insanity just because your feelings have been hurt.” She slices the girl’s wrist open, forces it against William’s mouth, makes him swallow. “Good,” she says coldly. “Now I’ll bring another.” viii. Day seven approaches. William, duly chastened, and healed by Darla’s force-feeding, enters Angelus room, hands behind his back, eyes properly cast downwards, wearing a simple shirt and nothing more. He wants Angelus to know he’s truly sorry. Angelus doesn’t turn when he enters. He doesn’t even look at William, and a bolt of fear lances through his body. What if he can’t fix it? William walks towards him, eyes still cast down. When he’s in front of Angelus, he drops to his knees, removes his shirt, and moves a shaking hand to Angelus’ pants, unbuttons the fly. Please let this work… ix. “What’re you doing, boy?” Angelus growls, shoving William’s hands from him. “Did I call for you?” “No, Sire,” William whispers. “I came to beg forgiveness. I was wrong to forget what you’d told me. I know that, and I wish to do penance.” The Catholic phrase, so strange on his tongue, but Angelus likes the imagery of priest and penitent. “And you thought coming here and sucking my cock would be enough?” Angelus says mockingly. “You thought you’d be forgiven through that?” “I had hoped,” William says softly. “Well boy…” and the fear’s back. “It better be damned good.” x - 1. William’s been in this position before, and he’s gotten pretty good at making Angelus moan. But moaning’s not enough this time. This has to make Angelus so happy he’ll forgive William for being an ass. So he pulls out Angelus’ cock, and at least a part of him’s in a forgiving mood, because it’s stiff and the tip is dripping a little. Soft licks to clean that up, and Angelus twitches. Not enough. William slips his mouth over the tips, sucking slightly, half praying he’s doing this right. Angelus hisses a little, and William takes more of him into his mouth. x - 2. Further down now, deep in his throat, and William swallows a little, does it again, then moves away, sucking still, trying to keep the pressure on Angelus as he moves his mouth upwards. A light bite at the tip, and Angelus bucks his hips, thrusts himself into William’s throat again, fists wrapped inhis hair, using him for Angelus’ own pleasure, and William knows this is what he’s for, part of the reason Angelus lets him go on existing. They all exist for Angelus' pleasure to some degree, and as Angelus comes, William knows this is where he’s supposed to be. Forever. xi. William remains on his knees, licking Angelus clean. When Angelus is satisfied he’s done the job right, he hauls William to his feet, drags him across the room, pushes him back over the armchair where he’d been left a week before. “What have you learned, Will?” he asks, wet fingers sliding inside, and William knows by that he’s done right, because Angelus never uses slick when he’s being punished. This is the after. This is what makes the punishment worth it. Angelus pushes inside and William forgets the question until a hand falling on his ass reminds him he has something left to answer. xii. “I asked you something, boy,” Angelus growls. “What have you learned? “I - ” this is another punishment, being made to think when Angelus is riding him. “I learned - ” another hard thrust, he’s sprawling over the chair, off his feet, he’s only being held up by Angelus cock. “I learned not to forget what I’ve been told.” “And?” Angelus asks, holding William’s hips in that awkward position, and William’s trying to think of what he needs to say. “And… and I’m yours, yours to do with as you wish.” Let that be what he wants to hear… xiii. “Good.” Another hard thrust, and Angelus spills, pulls away, buttons his pants. “Get dressed.” William scrabbles off the chair, tries to ignore his cock, grabs the shirt he walked into the room with and pulls it over his head. “Now come with me.” They walk to the door, Angelus stopping to pull on his boots. “We’re going to the tavern.” “But …” his voice trails off at the dark look Angelus gives him. “S-sorry,” he stutters. “Only, I’m not dressed.” “You don’t need to be wearing anything but that,” Angelus says shortly. “Are you questioning me? Now?” “No,” William whispers. xiv. William’s terribly embarrassed. He’s never been to this tavern before. There’s many dressed in finery like Angelus, and several boys who also seem to be wearing nothing but shirts. Angelus orders two ales, settles himself at a table. He pulls William onto his lap, nips at his neck. William shivers, lust and fear mixing in his stomach. “Angelus…” a sharp pinch on his upper thigh. “Sire… what are we doing here?” “We’re her to test your promise,” Angelus replies. “Tell me, William, are you mine? Can I do anything I want to you?” “Yes,” William says vehemently. Dear God, yes. xv. “Anything?” Angelus whispers, a hand creeping up William’s thigh, higher, to his hipbones, kneading them. “Anything, Sire,” William avows. The hand moves to his cock, smoothly running from tip to base, but without any pressure, to make him insane. Getting him hot, but not getting him off. “And if I told you to come right now, in here, you’d do it?” Angelus says, fingers tightening around the base of William’s cock. “Yes,” William moans in response. “And if I told you to whore yourself to a man in here, would you?” His hand’s moving again. “Yes,” William whispers. “If you wished it.” xvi. Behind the tavern, William’s bent over a barrel as Angelus fucks him, his mouth wrapped around someone’s cock, the man’s hands in his hair, and it’s wrong, it’s not Angelus before him, but he must suck this man off because Angelus ordered him to. The man finally comes with a groan, and Angelus pulls out of William, walks around to the man and snaps his neck. “No one touches what’s mine,” he growls. “Even when asked.” He hauls William up. “Straighten your shirt, boy. We’re going home.” William follows, feeling dirty and worthless. Perhaps he hasn’t been forgiven at all. xvii. “Bathe,” Angelus says shortly. “Clean yourself of that scum, gargle lye if you must. Have something to eat, then find me.” He turns away from William, and he’s thisclose to crawling after Angelus and begging for a reason, an explanation. But he must obey. He walks to the kitchen, hot water already waiting for him, probably at Darla’s behest. She’d know what was happening tonight. He climbs inside, scrubs himself clean, rinses his mouth with water and soap. When he’s as clean as he can be, he drains one of the people in the kitchen and heads upstairs to finish his penance. xviii. This wasn’t what he was expecting. Angelus lying on the bed, Drusilla lounging on one side, Darla on the other. All naked. “William,” Drusilla purrs. “You’ve been such a good boy tonight. Daddy told me.” Darla has a look in her eyes close to approval, and the quiet Angelus is gone, replaced by the Angelus he adores, smirking on the bed covers, ready to order William to do his bidding. He doesn’t have to. William crawls up Angelus body, settles against his chest. “You did learn something,” Angelus says approvingly. He runs a possessive hand down William’s back. Drusilla giggles, Darla smirks. Family. xix. Darla smiles at them. “Enjoy yourselves, children. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” She pats William’s head condescendingly, drops a kiss on Angelus’ mouth, strokes Drusilla’s breast. She gets up, leaves the room, attar of roses and a silk sheet trailing after her. “She seems… happy.” William murmurs. Angelus moves to the spot Darla’s vacated, pushes William to the center, on his stomach. “Darla may like chaos in the world, but she demands order in her home,” Angelus says, a lazy hand stroking William’s back. “Now that everything’s fixed, she’s in a giving mood.” Another smirk. “As am I.” Another mad giggle from Dru. xx. Angelus pushes William to his side, facing Drusilla. “Since you learned you lesson so well, a treat is in order.” Drusilla drapes one long leg over William’s hip, opens herself for him. He casts an anxious glance over his shoulder to Angelus. “Yes,” Angelus says. William pushes himself inside Drusilla, feels her tighten around him. He starts thrusting, slowly at first, but he’s so hard he doesn’t last long. He keeps riding her, feels himself harden again. It’s amazing inside her, and he catches her mouth in a kiss, wraps a hand around her breast, teases as he continues to move. xxi. Then he feels something against his ass. He pulls away from Drusilla’s mouth, sees Angelus behind him. “Mine,” Angelus growls. “Right?” And they both agree with a sigh, as Angelus pushes inside, rolls them so he’s on top of them both, pumping his hips against William as he kisses Drusilla, biting at William’s neck as he pulls Dru’s hair back , bares her throat to him. Drusilla moves her hips up as Angelus gives a final violent thrust, and William’s caught between them, unable to move either way, and he’s content. This is where he’s meant to be. xxii. “Why didn’t Darla stay?” William enquires, hoping he’s not being to forward. “Grandmummy doesn’t like to play these games with us,” Drusilla says with a smile. “Pardon?” William asks, a puzzled look on his face. “Darla doesn’t wish to be anything but the center of attention in bed,” Angelus drawls. “So she doesn’t go for this sort of thing.” “She must be crazy,” William mutters. “What’s that, boy?” Angelus growls. “Are you insulting Darla? Again?” He leaps off the bed. “Tie him down, Drusilla. He needs to learn how to control that insolent mouth. When will he learn to shut the hell up? xxiii. Afterwards, as Drusilla licks the blood from his back and Angelus puts away the whip, William finds himself deep in thought. Unusual for him of late, but nonetheless, deep in thought. He remembers the first time Angelus punished him, (vaguely) remembers hating it. He wonders when the punishment became pleasurable, when he started pushing so he could feel the pain before the fuck. He wonders how he existed before this defined him. He didn’t exist; the pain makes him feel more alive than a thousand poems and a million unrequited loves. The pain is what ties him to them. Family. Other Standalones Choose a Different Series 20 May 2004