Spanking Willow

By Hush Under My Skin 3

Part Five

Tuesday night the sun set. Dun, dun, dun! [[Dramatic Buildup]] Thus,

nighttime fell like a canopy, freeing your heroine--who is your hero

too!--to continue her adventures in the wacky world of spanking and bondage!

I am so NOT looking forward to this!

I left Wesley and Cordelia at the office to research demons that liked to

eviscerate their victims, and who have a taste for S&M. I do not want to

give the impression that I am being racially insensitive (because some

demons are very nice people). BUT the list of demon species matching that

profile on 'Demons, Demons, Demons,' the demonic database, went on FOREVER.

What is it with demons and S&M?

Since the both killings took place in the Korean district, I went there.

(Astounding piece of logical reasoning, Willow Holmes!) I caught a cab,

since the Angelmobile would not be out of the body shop until Thursday.

Have I ever mentioned that I seem to have spent WAY too much time hanging

out with Spike? Between Buffy's newfound Riley-obsession and the

Xander/Anya Sexual Olympics, no one else has had too much free time.

Spike...Spike has been underfoot for the last month or so. He is a

relentless bundle of impatient, always-bored, perpetually edgy energy.

Turn on Giles' TV, and he is there. Open Giles' refrigerator and he would

come running. I teased him once that the sound of the fridge opening is

like an electronic Spike whistle, guaranteed to work. He told me to "bugger

off" and pointedly did not respond to the Call of the Fridge for the rest of

the day. The next day he was back to his old habits though.

AND he rambles on constantly about anything and everything you might care

to discuss. Angel and Dru are favorite subjects of his. I have heard quite

a bit about the "Great POOF" and "The Angelmobile". I know tons of

disgusting details about his indiscriminate killing sprees with Drusilla. I

know how he speaks. If I wanted to, I bet that I could "Walk the walk, and

talk the talk."

Anyway, this pointless Spike-nostalgia was just more evidence of how much I

missed home. I knew I was pathetic when I started reminiscing about the

fixed puppy of a vampire, who had failed to bite me. Sad, so sad...

Not that I would ever admit to it but Spike is smart and funny and sexy...

If it were not for the 'Big Bad' vampire thing... Ho hum... THAT is a

thought I should not have! Back to the story...

The Korean district was still a bustling hive of activity at 7PM. I went

to the addresses where the killings had occurred, which I had courtesy of

Kate and Cordelia. Both of the men had been killed in cheap hotel rooms

rented by the hour and not the night. Neither of the hotel managers could

clearly recall the men who had rented the rooms, other than that they had

checked in alone.

I broke into the rooms, crossed the yellow police tap, and felt vaguely

guilty about doing so. I rationalized my violations, though, saying to

myself that Kate had asked for my help, which meant that my actions were

sanctioned by the police department, right?

Do not answer that. It was a rhetorical question.

I did not find anything new that the police had missed. Other than the

fact that both rooms reeked of dried blood and my stomach nearly chewed a

hole in my side trying to escape. I had not eaten since Angel left on

Monday morning.

After that, I was at a loss so I wandered the streets of the district

trying to look inconspicuous. My attention fell upon an adult video and toy

store not too far from the crimes scenes. I decided to check them out for

lack of anything better to do. It was a start.

No one was behind the counter or stocking the shelves when I came in. The

bell tinkled behind me as the glass door closed. I waited to see if anyone

would call out but no one did so I browsed the shelves, trying to look


Have I mentioned how hard it is to be unremarkable in the body of a tall,

lanky, drop-dead hunk of a vampire? I am sincerely convinced that Angel has

no idea just how gorgeous he is, or he never would have gotten to be so good

at lurking. Eyes are drawn to him.

I randomly picked up a strange leather contraption from the clearance bin,

trying to figure out what it was. It consisted mainly of leather straps

held together by metal ring joints. I managed to ascertain that the cuffs

were wrist and ankle bindings but a fifth ring in the center of the device

left me baffled. Puzzling, I stuck my middle finger through the ring. My

finger was too small.


"Can I help you?" an Americanized voice with an oriental accent asked me.

I turned and blushed, attempting to hide the gizmo I had been fondling from

sight. An elderly Asian lady smiled at me slightly.

I blushed harder. "I'd like this, please," I said, simultaneously wishing

that I could disappear and sink through the floor.

The lady rang me up. My leather gizmo came to eleven dollars and six

cents, including tax. I paid and wondered just how red a really pale

vampire can get.

"Can I help you with anything else?" she asked.

"Um... Er... Yes," I managed to squeak. "Do you ever in


She glanced about and dropped her voice. "Are you a cop?" she asked


"Nope, nada." I moved my hands. "No."

She nodded sagely. "What are you looking for?"

Oh rosy, rosy vampire cheeks... "Ahh...spanking?" I managed not to

squeak, a considerable feat considering my absolute and total humiliation.

"You looking for the entire package?" she asked. I stared at her blankly

and spread my hands with a shrug. "We offer a Spanking Special. Forty-nine

ninety-nine includes a half-hour session with the girl and spanking

implement of your choice. Bondage is optional."

I blinked. Inanely, I wondered why forty-nine ninety-nine instead of fifty

dollars even? What about the one cent? "That sounds good," I agreed before

I could change my mind. If I had thought about what I was soliciting too

carefully, I would have bolted for the door.

I paid in cash and she showed me into the back room. There was a bored,

slutty-looking Asian girl filing her nails. She looked up as we entered.

"I thought it was 'girl of my choice'?" I asked the madam, still focusing on


The madam pointed. "She's the girl. You choose her or no spanky-spanky."

"Oh." I nodded. "Fair enough."

"Number five," the madam told the girl as she stood. I started. They

numbered their packages like fast food Value Meals?! "Treat him special.

This is his first time."

"Sure thing," she said.

"Would you like to be bound?" she asked. Oh Goddess, oh Goddess, oh

Goddess... Please please please please help me!

"No thanks," I replied. My voice sounded distant and robotic, as if it

were coming from an automaton. "Un-bound is good." If this woman tried to

eviscerate me then I wanted my hands free to fight. And my feet free to


"K." She pointed to one of those jumpy things from PE (the gymnastic ones

not the running). I had noticed it when I entered the room but paid it no

mind. "Bend over and drop your pants," she ordered, walking over to a tall


I gulped as she opened the doors to reveal an assortment of spanking

implements. "Riding crop, paddle, cat-o'-nine-tails, belt..." The list

went on.

"Paddle," I decided because it seemed the most innocuous. She turned back

to me and stared at me impatiently upon discovering my pants up and that I

had not bent over the horse.

"You're on the clock," she reminded me, looking peeved. "Disobedience

earns you extra hard lashes. NOW GET YOUR ASS OVER THERE AND DROP YOUR

PANTS." Her volume shot up all of the sudden. I leapt to obey without even

thinking. Before I knew it I was bent over the prop and my alabaster

vampire butt was bared to the chilly air.


I yelped. Before I knew what hit me, she whacked me again. She cursed me

and humiliated me and beat my ass for a solid half-hour straight. I wept

and cried because it hurt. I pleaded with her to stop and she laughed. I

endured only because it was for the greater good of humanity.

Angelus got a sadistic kick out of being paddled. He got into S&M. (Big

shock there.) More than that, he relished every moment of my discomfort and

humiliation. My pain brought him pleasure.

Unfortunately, my tormenter was not the killer.

After a half-hour, we went our separate ways. Neither my pride nor my butt

was feeling up to another round with the paddle so I caught a cab. It was

late, close to midnight, when I got home. Wesley and Cordelia had already

left for the night.

I made a beeline for the Vamp Cave, where I skulked in a dark corner,

nursing my tattered pride and my hurt hiney. It did not help matters that

Angelus sat in the back of our head, tossing out the occasional searing

insult. His taunts--every single one of them--struck home in my heart. He

knew exactly what to say to hurt me the most.

Angelus is one hell of a mean S.O.B.

It took approximately two hours before the welts faded. I had to twist

around to look because I did not reflect in the compact I had managed to

scrounge from Cordy's desk. I searched high and low for a mirror before I

remembered that it was of no use to me anymore. I was afraid that there

were splinters in my ass but I had no way to check.

Angel called close to 2AM. I thought it was a little odd that he would be

calling me so late. But hey! You can take the soul out of the vampire but

not the vampire out of the soul! Or something like that...

We talked. I was too humiliated to admit to my real evening's roster of

activities. Envision: "Why yes, Angel, while you were attending classes and

doing my homework, I was soliciting a prostitute to paddle your ass raw."


I cringed at the thought. I do not think mere words can describe the true

depths of my absolute humiliation and shame over this. It seared my pride

and dignity to think about what I had just done.

So I lied and told Angel that I had stayed home with a good book.

Unfortunately, deception meant that I had to leave off mentioning the

murders too. (Yes, I know that he will find out sooner or later. Later is

much better than sooner. The later the better.)

I helped Angel solve a couple of Calculus problems and he asked for help

writing a program in C. He agreed to email me the assignment in the morning

and promised to check in on a regular basis.

"Are you eating?" he demanded before he hung up. My empty stomach growled

to remind me again that it was empty. It was loud enough that I was afraid

Angel might have heard.

"Did I mention that I met Kate?" I asked to divert him.

"Iaccindentlytoldherthatyouarekindagay," I confessed in a rush. Then I

waited for the world to end. Grr...

Pregnant pause. "Are you eating?" he persisted.

"Angel?" I said. "Did you hear me? I'm really sorry. I hope I haven't

messed up your relationship with Kate."

He exhaled. "Kate and I are just friends, Willow."

"You're not mad?" I asked, bewilderment bubbling inside of me. He should

be mad. I had expected him to be mad. Any normal guy would be mad. Xander

would have kittens if I told a girl he was gay. Maybe Angel is just really

secure in his masculinity...

"I'm not mad," he confirmed. Big pause. "Why did you tell her that I was

gay again?" he queried with the air of someone afraid of the answer but

compelled to ask anyway.

"It was an accident," I repeated. "She started talking about things being

'strictly business' and the next thing I knew I was telling her that she

wasn't my type and spilling my guts about Oz. So now she thinks that you're

gay. I'msoooosorry."

Angel harrumphed. It was almost too quiet, but I barely managed to hear

him. "That's OK," he dismissed casually again. "Adds to the mystery."

My mind boggled. In his oblique, non-confirming or denying way, Angel was

validating my secret suspicion that he *was*, bisexual. OMIGOD!


Bad Willow Bad! Angel's sexual orientation is none of my business. (Well,

other than for the fact that I currently occupy his body.)

Gee, I wonder what it would be like to have sex in...


"Have you been eating?" Pit-bull Angel demanded as he relentlessly returned

to the original subject of avoidance.

"Yes," I lied weakly.

"Willow," he commanded sternly. "Walk over to the refrigerator and eat

something right now or I'm on the next bus back to LA."

"All right, all right," I complained petulantly. "I'm not a child," I

pouted. "You don't have to yell."

I'm not yelling." Really, his voice had not risen at all but Angel is

capable of speaking volumes with a tone.

"I'm opening the door now," I said, doing so. "And eww!" I grimaced as a

foul odor hit my nose.

"Eww?" Angel repeated, requesting clarification.

"Eww, it's gone bad!"

He sighed. "Well that happens after a couple days. You haven't been

eating and reordering like I showed you, have you?"

There was no point in lying. "No," I admitted, "but I meant to."

"Willow..." Exasperation, consternation, and frustration...

"I'll stop and get some fresh blood tonight," I promised promptly. My

empty stomach had begun to rumble insistently at the thought of fresh blood.

I was starving.

"You promise?" he asked.

"Yes, I promise." Really, I had no choice. Angel was right. I needed to

eat. I was taking too big a chance of either losing a fight or control to

the demon or both if I let myself grow weak.

Satisfied, Angel bid me goodbye and hung up. Sadly, I returned the phone

to its cradle and went off in search of a red liquid meal. Woe is me. I

suck. Literally.

Part Six

I fell into an exhausted sleep close to dawn on Wednesday morning and woke

up around 9AM. My sleep was marginal but at least Angelus did not throw any

awful nightmares at me. The demon woke up feeling mellow and big-fat-cat


As for me... Well, I have felt better. Still exhausted, I dragged myself

from bed to the shower. I dressed in something black and something black.

Oh, and black socks and shoes!

Note to self: go shopping.

I practically crawled out of the elevator and skulked toward the coffee

pot. Without looking up, Cordy greeted, "Morning Ang--" She stopped

herself. "Wow, you have your depressed and depressing creature of the night

impression down so good that I forgot," she commented.

I thought abut growling at her but restrained myself. I poured myself a

cup of coffee and went over to stand near her desk. "Find anything?" I

asked. I set down my mug down on her desk.

"Bad news," Cordelia said, handing me the folded front page of the LA

Times. "There's been another murder. Nas T. Boi, a Korean immigrant, age

38. Not too much is known about the victim." Cordelia spoke while I

skimmed the article.

A sense of foreboding descended upon me when I saw that the murder had

taken place within a few blocks of where I had been the night before. Damn!

Talk about rotten luck!

My fists clenched as I tossed down the paper. I grabbed a pen and

scribbled the address of the hotel where the third murder had occurred. I

doubted that anything would come of it but it was worth checking out. Come

to think of it, I should probably return to the two previous crime scenes

and talk to the managers myself.

"What about the demon database?" I asked Cordy, feeling frustrated and


Cordy shrugged. "Only hundreds and hundreds of different demons, any one

of which might be into disemboweling their S&M partners." She indicated a

stack of printouts.

"Separate the demons that pass for human," I suggested. "If the killer is

being solicited for sex or approaching the victims then it's probably

human-looking, maybe even attractive."

Cordy nodded. "That's a good idea," she said, double clicking on the icon

to open 'Demons, Demons, Demons'. "What about you? Find anything last


I scowled. "I checked out both crime scenes. I didn't find anything. I

scouted the area too." I was not about to tell her about my spanking

session. "It would help if I knew what I was looking for," I said, grinding

my teeth in frustration.

Cordy glanced at me with sympathy. "Hey," she said, standing. "Take it

easy. You're taking this 'being Angel' thing way too seriously." She put a

hand on my arm.

I jerked it away. "What else am I supposed to do?" I whined petulantly.

Inexplicably, my eyes filled with involuntary tears. "People are dying and

you're setting me up for scorn and ridicule by suggesting that I become 'the

spankee'! In front of Wesley no less!"

Her eyes widened. "OH, Willow, I'm sorry! I didn't know that I hurt your

feelings! I was only giving Wesley a hard time. I'm really sorry. I was

only kidding around, I won't do it again."

I froze. What did she mean that she was only giving Wesley a hard time?!

She was kidding?! Oh, Goddess! If she were saying what I thought she was


"Don't worry about Wesley," Cordelia continued to reassure me. "A) He

knows that you would never actually solicit a prostitute. B) If anyone can

provide tons of material for scorn and ridicule, it's Wesley Wyndam


She kept going but I was not listening. A very Willow-like sense of

outrage and anger seized me. It had nothing to do with Angelus in origin.

MY GODDESS! What a bitch! I wanted to kill her!

A second later Angelus joined the chorus and a murderous impulse nearly

seized control of me. My sanity and self-control kicked in at the last

second and I bolted for the Vamp Cave.

I hid downstairs the rest of the day, despite the confused pleading of

Cordy and Wesley. They both tired and failed to coax me out. I was too

terrified to leave. Until the over-whelming desire to strangle Cordy until

her eyeballs popped subsided, no one was safe.

Including me.


The day dragged like a tired yawn. Angelus was surprisingly docile. He

subjected me to a minor nightmare when I tried to nap and taunted me while I

was awake but that was about it. It was nothing more than I could handle.

Of course, I knew that he was only biding his time, waiting until I was

vulnerable to make another grab for control. Still, I enjoyed the respite

while it lasted and tried not to think too hard about the future.

Cordy had made me feel like an imbecile. Of course she had been kidding

about going out and getting my butt beat to catch the killer. DUH. If I

were anymore na´ve and unwitting, you could have pinned a note to my chest:

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto."

I decided right then and there that NO ONE, and I mean NO ONE, would ever

hear of this. I would not tell a single soul what had transpired the night

before in a sleazy Los Angeles sex shop. Not even Angel. It was a secret I

would take with me to the grave.

Once resolved, I felt marginally better. It was getting close to sundown

and I was antsy to get back on the street. I had a killer to catch. Given

a bit of perspective, I had decided that there was merit to Cordy's idea

after all.

Not the part where I get spanked, the part where I contacted prostitutes

and "staked out" spanking establishments and cheap hotels. Sooner or later

the killer was bound to surface and I would be there to catch him/her/it

when (he/she/it)...

Good Goddess! This is driving me nuts. From here on out, I am just going

to refer to the killer as "she". It seems likely that the murderer will be

female, considering that all of the victims have been men. There was

nothing in the files about the men being gay or bi-sexual, so the demon

probably passes as a human woman in order to pick up her prey.

Bearing that in mind, I made another supposition. Since all of the victims

were murdered in different locations, hotels with rooms for rent by the

hour, then I could safely assume the killer posed as a prostitute or picked

up men in bars or clubs. That should rule out spanking establishments with

a fixed location and I could narrow my search.

As a plan formed in my mind, my mood took an upward swing. Yeah! I had a

plan! Way to go, Willow! I should have been using my brain all along--it

is my best asset--instead of relying on Angel's brawn. I may be Angel on

the outside but I am definitely Willow on the inside!

And Willow takes charge, starting tonight!

And I vowed to get even with Cordy. She had gotten me good and my pride

demanded revenge. Somehow, somewhere, when she least suspected...



With a renewed sense of purpose, I set out for the Korean district as soon

as the sun went down. I lurked in the shadows of an alleyway that provide a

clear view of a busy street corner. Prostitutes always hang out on busy

street corners in the movies. Who was I to know any better?

Before too long, I spotted a leather-clad Asian woman who looked like an

apt candidate for butt beating. JACKPOT! She looked to be in her late

teens, an indeterminate sixteen to eighteen-year-old. I suspect that

underneath all of that sleaze, she might have been pretty.

This was where I had to swallow my pride once again. By now I had mastered

slinking better than a whipped puppy. Something about being Angel seemed to

inspire me. I am Soul Boy, and champion of the weak and the oppressed!

See the big red "S" emblazoned upon my chest?

"Soul Boy to the rescue! Dun, dun, dun!"

I leapt out of the shadows and stuck out my chest, placing my hands on my

hips for emphasis. Durn it but I left my cape at home! The girl turned

when she heard me move. Unlike Angel, I am not "Stealth Guy".

The prostitute eyed me suspiciously for a moment. I felt bad for her. She

was only a year or two younger than me but to be forced into such a wretched

profession. Finally, she gave me the once over and sauntered closer.

"Hello," I boomed.

"How can I help you, John?" she asked in broken English. I winced and Soul

Boy's chest deflated. Language barriers could only make this worse. It

meant more horrendously embarrassing explaining as I attempted to

communicate what I wanted.

I was being spanked for the greater good of humanity, I reminded myself.

Whipped ass saves lives. Butt Boy, crusading for the weak, the oppressed,

and the eviscerated. (Plus, I was only pretending this time! Heehee!)

Gee, all this Soul Boy stuff reminds me of Xander...


Oh Goddess! Am I beginning to sound like Xander? I am, I know I am. I am

turning into Xander! I am becoming cavalier about the subjugation and

exploitation of my own body by the Powers That Be! I might as well become a

fluffy-headed girlie magazine model, exposing my body for cash!!

Not for cash, for lives...

"You need help, John?" my professional lady of the velvet whip demanded

impatiently. Oh right. I was here to solicit naughtiness from her...

"Err, how much for...spanking...?" I asked, keeping my voice low. Once

again, I had to remind myself that I was only pretending. I had no

intention of going through with the spanking this time.

Her eyebrows furloughed. "We fuck - hundred dollars. Blow Joe - fifty."

She approached me insistently and gave Angel's body an appreciative once

over. "For you, ninety," she said, running her hand over my chest.

I stepped back fearfully. "No-no-no," I said, putting her off. I waved my

hands back and forth, frantically trying to explain. "Um...spanking...beat

butt?" I indicated my ass, blushing with all of the blood in my vampire


"You soddin' POOF!"

I froze and laughter rolled over me, filling the street. The prostitute's

eyes widened. "Well color me pink an' paint me a' monkey's arse," a

familiar voice resounded from behind me.

I expired of embarrassment on the spot.

Oh Goddess, please let me DIEDIEDIE...!!!


Part Seven


I spun and spotted him lurking in the shadows, a cigarette hanging off his

lower lip like an undead caricature of a cartoon character. "Surprised to

see me, ducks?" he asked, blowing smoke.

"Yeah," I blurted automatically. "You're supposed to be in Sunnydale!"

The prostitute turned to look at him, her expression clearly puzzled. She

did not understand what was being said.

"Well, I'm not."

"Who's he?" the girl asked.

"Spike," I answered. Oh God, Oh Goddess! What did Spike want?? To

fight?! I was going to get my ass kicked!

"The one and only," he confirmed. He stepped out and flung away his

cigarette, advancing on me. He looked me up and down. "Well, well, if me

old sire isn't a flogged fag! Sod a dog!" He blew more smoke to

demonstrate his astonishment. "An' here I thought Willow was just ripping

the piss outta me."

My jaw dropped. Oh my Goddess! Spike had overheard my conversation with

the prostitute and he thought... He thought!! He thought I was into S&M!!!

Spike grinned and chuckled, clearly tickled pink with my exposure as a

'whipped Nancy-boy'. "What are you doing here?" I demanded. Then his last

words lambasted me.

"Willow what?" I squawked. Excuse me...? Where did I leave my hearing

aid? "Willow?!" I squeaked. Angel?! "What did heeee-shhheee say?!"

Ripping the piss out of him?! Did he mean?! Golden showers?! Or wait!

Was that some strange Spikeism for something more innocuous?

Spike postured. He pranced and he preened. He claimed a spot on the

sidewalk and turned it into his property. "Willow told me all about you

and your spanking fetish, you soddin' trotter. Gotta admit, didn't believe

her at first." His eyebrows danced. "Thought the little minx was yankin'

me chain!"

"What?" I mouthed like an imbecile even though his words were perfectly

plain. That is, after I ran them through a translation program in my head.

Who the hell ever accused the Brits of speaking English?!

"Willow 'fessed up to your little secret, my paddled petunia," Spike

ridiculed. "About'' how she beats your lily white arse.

Gotta say, it doesn't surprise me at all, at least, not about you. You

giant POOF. Now Willow..." He trailed off significantly and nodded sagely.

"What about Willow?!" What the hell had Angel been doing with my

body?!!!!!!!!!!! Angel AND Spike?! In my body?! [[HYPER-VENTILATING]]

"That's one filly wearin' the show halter an' kickin' up her heels outta

the ring. Let's just say that until a few days ago, that the little vestal

vixen sure had me fooled."

He emphasized the taunt with a cocky lift of his eyebrows. Spike's

eyebrows are obscene the way he uses them to convey lewd content. Someone

should slap a "NC-17" rating on his forehead in big red block letters.

I sputtered, completely off-guard. OH Goddess! Was he saying what I

thought he was saying?! "You and Willow!" I shook my head in denial.

I barely managed to utter my own name instead of Angel's.

Spike grinned. "You could say that little vixen rides me hard and puts me

away wet. Quite the sex kitten she is... But wait!" He smacked his

forehead with the heel of his hand. "You wouldn't know that or your marbles

would be runnin' all over the bloody sidewalk!" He smirked and strutted,

thrusting his hips forward with cocky confidence.

I was aghast.

Angelus slipped right past my guard and grabbed control. Before I knew it,

I was the one watching from the back of our head. Shock set me back twenty

years of my life. In a heartbeat I had lost all control over the demon and

Angel's body.

Angelus snickered. "You're really a piece of work, Spike." He raised his

hands, flapping his arms flamboyantly like a giant bird. "Flappin' an' a

flouncin' like a big ol' peacock... You think I give a fuck if you're

shaggin' that witch?"

Spike missed a beat in his victory strut. He was a rooster having his

little red wagon fixed. "Shut your gob!" he snapped.

"Why, because it kills you that I'm not jealous?" Angelus taunted. "Here

you are burning to rub my face in it that you've got a leg over on that dozy

mare. Tell me, Spike, who am I supposed to be jealous of... Willow or


Spike and I stood there like astonishment struck mute. For reasons I never

understood, Angelus chose to go along with the "Willow is Angel and Angel

Willow" charade. I think he did so because it suited his purposes. He saw

it as a way of hurting Spike and getting to Angel.

Spike had not responded so Angelus kept right on talking. "I hear that

you've been fixed," Angelus commented, getting really close to Spike.

"Little chip in your head." The demon tapped his temple. "Modifying your


"Sod off," Spike retorted. "I can still kick your arse."

Angelus sniggered. "My arse, my arse, my arse, it's always about my

magnificent arse, isn't it, Spike?" Angelus wiggled the arse in question,

doing a little dance. He moved expressively, shuffling his long, limber

limbs about with flowing freedom.

It was all about freedom. Angelus viewed his as fleeting--maybe only a few

stolen moments--so he threw himself into them with hedonistic abandon. It

should have reassured me that he thought I could regain control but it was

an empty hope. Right then and there I was a lost lamb...

Side note: what is it with all of the attention my "arse" seems to be

attracting lately?! Maybe I should lease some space and start charging a

viewing fee!

Back to my dancing demon performing the butt-wiggle mamba. He was just

plain scary. Angelus loved every minute of autonomy with insane and wanton

pleasure. He had no pretenses, no inhibitions. Every feeling, every

thought, and every impulse was on the surface, amplified a hundred times

over by his dark nature.

Spike's glazed gaze remained glued to my squirming ass. My demon had

thrown him for a loop. His expression grew guarded as he tried to figure

out what to make of this latest chapter in the inexplicable enigma that is

Angel. I thought about trying to grab for control but an overwhelming sense

of morbid curiosity made me want to let the scene play out a little further.

"Know what?" Angelus said loudly. "I think you're here makin' a bunch of

noise about my 'lily white arse' because I'm number one on your Shag List

and it just fuckin' drives you nuts that you're not getting my cock up your

arse," he mocked. "I am at the top of your Shag List, aren't I, Spike?"

Angelus smirked.

Spike exploded. "SOD OFF!" he shouted. Angelus had pushed him to flash

point by punching too many hot buttons. The platinum vampire lunged for

Angelus, who leapt backward with the dexterity of a cat. While we were

airborne, my demon cackled and smirked like a madman, glorying in his verbal


The prostitute bolted. I cannot say that I blamed her. I would have too

under similar circumstance. In fact, I wanted to, really badly, but I was


Spike kept coming, tackling Angelus around the waist. His charge carried

us straight back into the alley from which we had both emerged. Angelus

blocked most of the punches but a hard blow caught him in the ribs and he

threw Spike back.

"You're so insecure in your own masculinity that you have to be vocally

homophobic," Angelus gasped, evading Spike again as he bounced right back

into battle.

"Shut your gob!" Spike repeated fiercely.

Punch, block, punch, block, kick, block... Spike did all of the

attacking; Angelus all of the evading. My demon was not interested in

fighting. He was playing.

At this point, I was "wow'ing" over the seeming accuracy of Angelus'

psychological assessment of Spike. "Wow!" Poor Spike! It all made so much

sense! (I wonder if Angelus ate a psychiatrist at some point...?)

"You can't bring yourself to admit that you're still lusting after your old

sire since I abandoned you a hundred years ago," Angelus continued to

heckle. "That's where all of this misplaced anger comes from."

Spike roared and swung straight at his sire's face. Angelus sidestepped

and grabbed Spike's arm, using the force of his own blow to propel him into

a wall. Angelus pinned his child there, one arm behind his back. Spike

struggled fiercely to escape but my demon had the physical advantage in size

and strength.

"I hate you, you effin' poof," Spike hissed.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Angelus chanted, "Heard it all before." Grunting with

exertion, he crushed Spike against the cement wall. Angelus pressed up

against his child, spooning back to chest, hips to ass, thighs to thighs.

IT was aching and hard, straining against the confines of underwear and

pants. Angelus purred with pleasure, grinding against Spike's forcibly

proffered ass. Spike growled in protest at the blatantly sexual contact.

I nearly died of embarrassment AND arousal. Think frogs, frogs, frogs...


"Remember this, Spike?" Angelus murmured, nuzzling the crook of Spike's

face with his mouth. With his child's face averted, my demon had complete

access to Spike's exposed throat. His lips touched Spike's ear and the tip

of his tongue traced the smooth column of his child's throat.

Vampire tongues are cool and raspy, more catlike than human. It is a

demonic quality but it is incredibly erotic. Spike shuddered, both

attracted and repulsed, as a rough tongue smoothed over his flesh. I found

myself being seduced right alongside Spike by the clever kisses and

suckling. It was powerful and breathtaking. One hundred percent


I lost myself within Angelus.

Spike bucked once, pouring all of his strength into a single attempt at

escape. I rose and fell but held on, wrapping my arms tight about his

chest. Instead of throwing me, Spike inadvertently contributed to my

pleasure as he thrust back. His tight ass rubbed against my crotch.

We landed off balance in a tangle but managed not to topple through a

combined effort of entwined limbs stopping our fall. Spike twisted to face

me. He may have intended to fight but I cut him off before he could react,

stealing a kiss.

My hands slid to his 'arse'. "Don't fight me, Spike," I whispered, as his

upper lip slipped away from my teeth. I nipped his lips hard, alternating

between upper and lower. I occasionally tasted the depths of his mouth with

my tongue, and he opened to me eagerly. I lapped, flirted, and retreated

again. He growled and I laughed. "Or do. I don't care. Either way is


My fingertips squeezed hard into the denim of his black jeans. I gripped a

cheek in either hand. Confused blue eyes opened to glare fiercely at me

from under dark lashes. All of his hair used to be dark when I first

brought him across.

"You've lost your fuckin' marbles again," Spike assessed. His way of

saying that I had lost my soul. He glared at me with accusing eyes. "All

right. Who the hell did you fuck this time?"

I chuckled. He was close but wrong. My pesky Wicca soul was still

present. I could feel her banging around in the back of my head like the

annoying clang of ancient plumbing. "You," I told him, showing teeth. "I

fucked you in my mind and the fantasy was better than Bunny was in the


Nonplused, he glowered. "I hate you," he hissed. His manner was petulant

and pouty, a child spewing hate at a parent for being sent to bed early. I

stared at him thoughtfully and tried to decide what to do with him.

Fuck him or kill him? Decisions, decisions...

What the fuck. I have always preferred violence to sex. Nothing is better

than a good torture session, except maybe a great mind-fuck. A) Spike

betrayed me. He had it coming. B) Killing him gave me a chance to stick it

to my hated soul. Angel adores the little wanker. It would destroy him to

discover that I had dusted the peroxide twit.

Practically salivating with anticipation, it took all of my acting ability

not to give myself away. "You know, Spike," I said, deliberately dropping

my voice to a provocative whisper. The husky timber drew him in. I can

enrapture nuns with my voice. Centuries of practice have taught me to weave

spells of seduction.

"What?" he demanded, eyes firmly on my mouth.

"I can tolerate a lot of things from my children," I told him. "But

betrayal isn't one of them. And I owe you big time for that crowbar." I

drew my fist back.

His eyes widened and he snapped from the daze to fighting readiness but it

was too late. My fist caught him in the face. Another harder blow followed

but I knew instantly that this fight was over before it began.

Oh well, too bad... I would console myself by killing him slowly. Heh. I

think some bloke wrote a love song about that... Damn Angel never did keep

up with the times or I would know the artist's name.

Oh lookie! Spike is getting to his feet! Maybe there is some fun left in

this for me after all... Feeling playful, I decided to wait for Spike to

stagger to his feet before I attacked again. I figured that it was mighty

sporting of I would rather he fought desperately for his life

before I staked him. I got more out of it that way.

A good kill requires a certain amount of preparation... and participation.