New
Boundaries
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Author: Dark Star Email:
eternity_ds@hotmail.com Website: Dark Star's Portal Summary: How do they
handle the new rules? Disclaimer: Joss
Whedon is creator and owner of
all things Angel Rating: Adult (NC 17) Warning: This story
contains imagery some people might find disturbing. Notes: This is the 5th
part of my S&M series, Harsh Reality. Pairing: B/A Category: Dark. Distribution: Just ask,
please Thanks Jo, for pointing
out the error of my ways. And giving lots of encouragement! ** Angel entered The Room
and closed the door. He had sent Buffy up earlier to wait for him, and he
found her sitting quietly on the edge of the bed. She looked up as he
approached, and her nervous expression made him pause. Fuck. He really
loved the look she gave him before a session; even though each one was a
little different, they all gave him a thrill. Fear, excitement, arousal; he
could get off on all of those. Tonight it was anticipation, and her anxious 'what
are you going to do to me?' expression went straight to his groin. He went to her and held
out his hand. She grasped it tightly, and let him lead her to the ceiling
chains. After their recent discussion on what the new boundaries were, she
had no idea what to expect from this session. This was also their first
meeting since her assault on Angel, and she was concerned that he would
perhaps want to 'get even' with her. Buffy had not undressed
for him this time, because Angel had asked that she 'Wear something old' for
this and future occasions, and roughly translated, that meant 'Something you
don't want to wear again.' Efficiently fastening
her firmly in the steel manacles, he paused, resting his hands on her waist. "Tonight," he
said quietly, the smooth tones of his voice making her shiver, "we're
going back to basics." Buffy wanted to ask what
he meant by that, but sometimes she got more information than she wanted if
she did that, so she stayed silent. Apparently it was the right thing to do,
because he smiled approvingly. "Good," he murmured,
smoothing his hands gently through her hair. Gathering up her long tresses in
one hand, he exerted just enough pressure to pull her head back and expose
her throat to him. "I like compliance." Her eyes flashed in
defiance and that thrilled him too. He pulled gently on her hair, making her
gasp and drawing his attention to the way her mouth opened in such an
inviting and pleasing manner. "I'm
going to hurt you," he whispered. Buffy's breath caught.
She knew what they were here for, and what he had done to her in the past,
but having Angel voice his intention made her heart beat faster and
her knees tremble. "I'm going to make
you scream," he continued, and Buffy found that her eyes instinctively
locked on his, and she couldn't find the strength to tear them away again. "I want to watch
you squirm," Angel breathed, the liquid silk of his voice holding her
prisoner with its intensity. "I want to please you," he purred;
"I want to make you come so hard that you can't even remember your own
name." Buffy swallowed
nervously, and Angel fell silent, just watching her. He pulled her head back
a little further and leant in closer to promise, "I'm going to fuck you." Buffy moaned, frightened
of what was to come, but thrilled at the promise of unknown pleasures that
lay in store for her. Angel stirred, shifting
position to stand behind her, and somehow without releasing his grip on her
hair. His free hand reached round her to squeeze her breasts, pleased to find
that her nipples were already standing up for him. He massaged them with his
finger before sliding his hand sensuously down to fumble under the hem of her
shirt. Buffy gasped at the
touch of his cool hand on her stomach, and she had no alternative but to stand
passively while his fingers explored any part of her that he wanted to. He
released her hair, and allowed both hands to roam without restraint under the
cover of her clothing. His fingers worked patiently on the buttons of her
blouse, caressing each tiny sliver of skin that was released from her
garments. Her bra was unceremoniously yanked up, to bunch loosely above her
breasts. Her nipples were so sensitive that she whimpered when he touched and
rubbed them; and when he pinched and twisted them harshly, she unashamedly
arched against him, silently pleading for more. "Not
yet," he smirked. "We've got a long way to go before I let you
come." His hands slid back down
her flat stomach, enjoying the freedom to explore her body as he chose to. He
touched her everywhere he could reach, sometimes gentle, sometimes intimate,
sometimes intending to hurt. Skilfully unzipping her skirt, he let it drop to
the floor and encouraged Buffy to kick it out of the way. "Angel…"
she protested hoarsely when he stopped touching her and stepped away. "Not
yet," he reminded her, turning away smoothly to go to his toybox in the
corner. Buffy squirmed in her
chains, excited and frightened. The pain content of their sessions lately had
been extreme. Angel had promised her that this one would be better, but she
was still afraid that she wouldn't be able to stand what he wanted to do to
her. But oddly, she was curious and aroused too. Angel returned to her
and laid his toys down on the nearby bed. She couldn't help looking to see
what he had chosen to use on her. Surprisingly, not that many things, though
of course he could add more later. So far, his toys consisted of: Two whips,
a cane, and a spreader bar. There was also a knife with a curved blade and
long handle, but that didn't worry her because she knew it wasn't one of
those that he used on her. She wondered if this was
what he had meant by 'the basics'. Perhaps he wasn't planning on using
anything too bad? She winced at that thought; anybody who thought a
cane or whips were not 'too bad' - had not been worked on by Angel. Angel picked up the
knife and crossed over to her. He paused to appreciate the vision before him.
His woman, small but powerful, was now looking very fragile and helpless. Her
arms were pulled up and secured in the rough manacles; her shirt hung open,
revealing her bare stomach and breasts that were framed by her bunched bra.
Her skirt lay abandoned on the floor, and her smooth legs went all the way up
to a pair of pretty pale pink panties. He felt a tinge of regret that soon
her skin would not look as smooth and delicate as it was now; but, even as he
thought it, he couldn't help relishing the fun it would be to watch the
different changes her flesh would go through, and see the welts and swelling
appear at last. Angel slid the tip of
his knife underneath the centre point of her bunched bra, slicing up and
through the pink fabric. It sprung open, making her breasts quiver, and he smiled
in satisfaction before going behind her and slipping the knife down the
collar of her shirt. Buffy tensed, but he did nothing more than saw through
the stiff collar of her shirt. He upturned the knife, storing it by the
handle in the waistband of her panties, before grasping hold of the fabric of
her shirt with both hands and tore the material right down the back. Although she was
expecting it, the sudden rush of cold air on her skin made her gasp, and she
felt the steel of the blade prick at her stomach. The shirt was being folded
back over her shoulders, and she was beginning to feel oddly vulnerable in a
way that even being naked - as was their norm - had never made her feel. For a while, Angel
played with her exposed skin, kissing, caressing, and licking; before finally
ending up in front of her and kneeling down. His fingers caressed her now
very wet underwear, before squirming a finger under the leg of her panties to
venture inside her. She closed her eyes to maximise the experience, and, mindful
of the blade against her skin, rocked her hips gently in time with Angel's
thrusting fingers. His hand stopped, and her eyes snapped open when she felt
him removing the knife from her waistband. "Easy," he
whispered at the sudden tension in her muscles. Deftly cutting away the soft
fabric of her panties and peeling it from her body, he dropped the scraps to
the floor. Upturning the knife again, he eased her legs open and steadily
pushed the thick handle inside her. She bit her lip and tensed further,
making entry difficult, but she was so wet that once he had the long handle
in place it was easy to thrust the smooth shaft in and out as he chose to. He waited patiently
until her hips were moving rhythmically against the handle before withdrawing
it and provoking a mewl of protest. He smirked, before rising and going to
the bed to pick up his cane. Her eyes were wide when
he returned and laid the wood against her chest. "What do you
want?" he asked. "I'd rather like to
go back to my room, if you don't mind," she said hopefully. The trace of a smile
twitched at the corner of his mouth, but he didn't allow it to reach his
eyes. She was holding her breath, waiting to see if he would punish her for
her cheekiness. "That's the wrong
answer," he said reasonably, but she heard the warning in his tone. "What do you want?" Buffy resisted the urge
to cheek him again; he would not allow it a second time. She knew what he
wanted her to say, but she didn't want to do it. Angel sighed, tapping
the cane over her breasts. "You know that I'm going to use
this," he said. "If you ask for it, I will go easier on you." "I want it, "
she said instantly. "Not good
enough," he replied. "You have to ask for it." Buffy hesitated. Some of
Angel's more intense caning sessions ran through her mind and she swallowed.
"I want… you to use the cane." Angel's eyebrow quirked,
and she quickly added, "Please." "Better." He
considered pushing her for a little bit more, but it was too soon. If he
tried to push her too far, she would dig her heels in and completely defy
him. He would then have no choice but to punish her, and he didn't want to do
that this early in the evening. Tapping the cane on her
skin as he walked round behind her, and letting his fingers caress the same
area, he paused. Buffy straightened a little, nervous, but she wasn't
frightened just yet. At this stage, Angel was playing with her. That didn't
mean that it wasn't going to hurt, but if he was planning a serious caning
session he preferred to have her bending over something; standing made it
difficult for him to angle the strokes accurately. Dropping to a crouch,
Angel balanced the cane over his knees, and used both hands to knead the
flesh of her bottom. He deftly stoked and massaged her tense muscles until
she finally relaxed under his skilled and tender touch. Planting a gentle kiss
on her rear, he rose and positioned himself slightly to one side of her, and
Buffy waited anxiously for the first strike. It was delivered by a flick of
Angel's wrist, the tip of the cane whipping against her right cheek; Buffy
tensed, but it was very mild - meant only as surface sting. The tip of the
cane connected with her soft skin over and over again, and Buffy let the pain
wash over her - recognising it as nothing more than a gentle warm up. Working on both her left
and right side, and then dropping to one knee to angle the strokes upward,
Buffy's rear went from a soft cream colour to bright scarlet. Angel paused
then, observing her. She was squirming and panting in the chains, more from
arousal than any real distress, and when he placed a cool hand on the
darkened skin, he smiled at the level of heat radiating from it. Placing the cane down on
the bed, he found his eyes drawn to the glow of her skin. At this point, his
intention had only been to warm her up and make her more receptive to the
other experiences still to come. But he had not finished with the cane. Later
he intended to bend her over the desk and give her a beating severe enough to
break the skin and make her bleed; he wanted to hear her beg him for
leniency. Flexing his arm to
ensure it hadn't stiffened up during the caning - unlike other parts of him -
he picked up the larger of the two floggers and returned to her. Carefully he
ran a quick safety check over her - something he always did at regular
intervals during a session. Satisfied that her chains were not too tight, and
that she was in no other distress than what he wanted her to experience, he
returned to his favourite position behind her. Of everything that he did, he
loved to hit her; it didn't really matter to him what he used - all the toys
had their merits. But he loved the physical-ness of it. He loved the exertion
needed to attain the desired effect; and he loved her instant response to his
actions. And it was so versatile. He could arouse her with a gentle flogging
or a sound spanking, or he could make her scream in agony as he dragged her
to the very edge of her endurance. Tonight, he intended to
keep his promises to her, and the pain would be less. But he still
intended to push her close to her limits, and he was excited about the
prospect of watching the whip caress and tear at her skin. He wanted to force
her into screaming his name in the throes of both agony and ecstasy -
possibly even at the same time. His fingers threaded
lovingly through the leather strands of the flogger. This little baby was
going to be her main companion on her journey tonight. Later, he would spread
her legs and let his second whip - smaller and marginally less harsh -
acquaint itself with her breasts and stomach, before moving down to her
thighs and flicking up against the wetness of her most sensitive place. Only
then, when he was certain she could stand no more, would he allow her the
release of her first orgasm. * * * * * Twenty-four hours later,
Buffy went to the kitchen to make herself something to eat. She moved gently
because she was still sore - though she was now uncertain as to how much of
it was from last night, and how much of it was from Angel's tireless
pleasuring of her all day. Angel appeared in the
doorway as she was pouring her drink, and she was just about to offer him one
when she realised he had his coat on. "Slaying?" she
asked. "Yeah," he
replied. "You feel up to coming with me?" Buffy shook her head.
"Not really," she said before adding brightly, "So, you'll bag a couple of
vamps for me?" "I will," he
promised, going to her and taking her in his arms. "Are you feeling
better now?" "I am," she
confirmed. Angel hesitated, unwilling to leave her, and Buffy gave him a
little push. "Go," she
forced a smile. In truth, she was still in pain, but last night had been an
enormous improvement on recent experiences. Angel had taken great care to
give her what she had asked for, and she had not felt depressed or upset
today as she had often done in the past. "Go," she said
again, knowing that Angel often got antsy from being cooped up for too long.
"I'll be all right." "If you're
sure," he said hugging her tight and whispering endearments in her ear
before backing away and venturing off on his slayage hunt. * * * * * The second vampire
puffed into a giant dust ball. "For Buffy," Angel said, withdrawing
his stake from his kill and pocketing it. The dust settled, and Angel carried
on through the alley. No other vampires appeared, and he emerged from the
alley and crossed the road to where a semi-derelict building sat on the
corner of the block. The front door opened
without a sound, and Angel stood in the hall and listened. There were sounds
of movement from upstairs, and the whole place reeked of vampires. Slowly, he
ascended the stairs, and found a corridor lined with doorways. The first one
had a curtain across it instead of a door, and he was just about to pass by
when he heard a noise from within. Silently, he drew the
curtain to one side and stepped cautiously inside. The room was empty, but it
led over to another room - with a door - and it was from here that he could
hear sounds of occupation. The door wasn't quite
closed, and he pushed it open. Sitting next to the window, an open book in
her lap, an olive-skinned Hispanic woman curled up in a frayed and threadbare
armchair. The woman dropped her book and scrambled to her feet when she saw
him enter and Angel paused just inside the doorway. For long moments, neither
moved nor spoke; then, slowly, the woman neatly unzipped her dress and let it
fall with a rustle to the ground. Angel stepped further
into the room and closed the door firmly behind him. End Part Six ~ She Bleeds Return to Fiction Index
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