Rated very very NC17

E-mail: crazyevildru@yahoo.com

Pairing: Angel/Faith

Warning: smut and a little S&M

Disclaimers:  Joss Whedon owns the characters. I'm just abusing them for a while, literally.

Summary: How does one start to atone?

Note: THANKS TO: Pleasure Maiden who wanted "Faith in a dominatrix suit and Angel naked without a safety word."

FEEDBACK:  PLEASE! It means SOOOO much! PLEASE PLEASE!
 
 

Crime & Punishment
By
dru
 
 

I'm not exactly sure how this all started. I mean, I know how it starts. We get naked. She wears leather (or sometimes I do) and we open the trunk at the foot of my bed. And this happens. I’m not stupid. What I mean is, I'm not exactly sure for what reasons. Not just because it feels good (in the end anyway). But why else? Why her? Why me? Why here?

"HEY!" She screams. "NO FUCKING BROODING ON MY WATCH!" Snaps the leather braided whip on my chest to get my attention and she does. Get it, I mean. "That's ten more lashes. Count."

 "One." I growl, silently cursing the pain. "Two." Another one on my thigh. "Three." On my knee. "Four." My stomach. "Five." My chest. "Six."  My cock. She's mad now. "Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten." All on my raging hard-on.  Those hurt the worse and she knows it. She knows I crave the pain. I crave it a bit too much.

 But so does she. She disappears, out the door, towards the kitchen and I relax a bit. I could break the chains. I could if I wanted.  But I don't want to. I need the pain. Sometimes, the pain is the only thing that makes me remember who I am and what I've done. It makes me remember why I can't be in Sunnydale and make love to the only person I love.

 I try to choose not to think about Buffy. It's just that I really don't have a choice in the matter. She's always there, in the back of mind, she’s always there.

Except when I'm chained to the bed. I'm ashamed to think about Buffy when I'm taking my punishment. What would she think about me if she saw me here, bruised and bloody, being beaten with whips or fists? What would she think if she saw Faith riding me hard while punching me? I can't even stand to think about what she'd say. She'd be ashamed of me, disappointed… I can't take that. I don't want her perfect boyfriend tainted in her eyes. It's the only thing that keeps me going, knowing that someone, somewhere, thinks I'm good.

 Faith and I know better. She walks back in with a sadistic smile on her face. I watch her nipples peeking out from the leather corset she wears. I love her in that. She wears it well, almost like it was intended for her body, for this very purpose. Punishment.

Punishment for her because I pull the ties tight when I help her into it. Punishment for me because it reminds of who and what I am. A carnal creature with needs. I have no qualms about admitting otherwise. I crave blood and sex.

Faith knows this. She knows that it wasn't the sex with Buffy that took my soul. It was the love.

I'd had sex plenty of times in the hundred or so years before I met Buffy. I took plenty of vampire fledglings in my bed and plenty of virgins as well. I'm no Angel. Faith knows that. She sees it when she looks at me. And see it when I look at her. I suppose that's how this all got started. Simplicity. Safe fucking for both of us. And that's what it is. Not love. Not sex. It's fucking, pure and simple fucking for the pleasure of it.

 That's how it started, anyway. She needed it. I wanted it. Then one day, she was pissed and I was too. We were sparring and the next thing I knew we were ripping each other's clothes off and fighting while we did. The next time, I brought the chains and holy water. And the next time, I opened the trunk. Now, she knows enough about its contents that she picks what she wants and occasionally buys stuff to add to it. I watch her walk around the bed, hips moving seductively, as if there's some other way she can move. The girl is sex. She's not afraid to take what she wants, which is how I got into this particular situation.

 "Hey, Bastard!" I snap back to her. She's pissed now. She's got the knife.

 I love what she can do with a knife.

 "Sorry."

"Sorry, what?" Shit.

"Sorry, Mistress."

"Damn straight, Asshole. I fucking own you." Damn, she's hot. So possessive. She doesn't just walk into a room. She can't. When she walks into a room, she not only owns the room, but everything in it. I suppose I see a lot of myself in her. She jumps on top of me and grinds against the lash marks. "Where do you want it?" She asks.

"Wherever it pleases you, Mistress." I say, begging for the pain.

"Here?" She asks while the tip cuts just above my nipple.

"Whatever pleases you, Mistress."

"Here?" She asks, dragging it lower to my navel.

"Wherever pleases you, Mistress."

"Here?" She asks with a lust-ridden voice. She slices the tip of my cock just enough to make me bleed more than the lashes (which are already starting to heal).

"Uh." I moan as I buck into the pain. "Whatever pleases you, Mistress."

"HERE!" She says as she slices across my abs. She makes three semi-deep slashes and smiles at herself. It's not the first time she's carved an 'F' on me.

My cock jumps as she runs her hand over the cuts and smears the blood on the swell of her breasts. "Oh, god…" I whimper.

"Is there something you want, Slave?"

"Yes." I hiss and see her eyes fill with rage. "NO. I mean no, Mistress. I only want what pleases you."

She slaps me and her fingernails cut my cheek. Then, she grabs my face with one hand and claims my mouth savagely. I feel her tongue push it's way through my mouth, practically down my throat. She caresses my cock with her other hand and I groan as I feel her heat rubbing against me. She pulls away and bites my lip hard as she does.

"What do you want, Slave?" I keep my voice quiet this time. "Speak." She demands.

"Whatever pleases you, Mistress. I want whatever pleases you."

"This pleases me." She holds up the cross. "Does it please you?"

I stifle the growl and nod. Bring me the pain, Faith. I need it. "Do you want this, Slave? Speak."

"Yes, Mistress. I want that. I want you to hurt me."

She smiles. "I can do that. Lick it." She holds it near my mouth and I snake my tongue out and lick down her fingers to where the cross is. It stings and burns and I growl softly as I lick it. I stop and take my tongue in the cool healing confines of my mouth after a second and she sticks her nails into a couple of the lash marks and reopens them.

"DID I TELL YOU TO STOP?!"

"No, Mistress. I'm sorry, Mistress." She looks at me again, questioningly.  But I say nothing and I don't break the chains. Between us, there are no safety words. I deserve whatever she gives me. I've done far worse to people without supernatural healing powers.

"Open your mouth." She orders me and I do. She dangles the cross inside and it hits my teeth and even my teeth burn slightly. I feel it inside my mouth and I scream as she pushes my lower jaw closed.

Two seconds later, she yanks it out brutally and kisses me deeply again. She licks the wounds and starts rocking against my body. We'll play soon enough.  She's more than ready. I've been smelling her in the air for quite some time now. She never lasts too much longer after she climbs on top of me. The cock ring will come off soon enough. Or it won't. And that's okay, cause I deserve that too.

She crawls up my body and places her juicy cunt on my face. To soothe the wounds. I lick up the length of her before doing the same thing with the tip of my tongue inside her. "NOW!" She screams.

So I impale her with my tongue, as hard and as deep as I can. I fuck her with it and she's rocking on my face, fucking herself on me. And that's okay too.

She comes within ten minutes and covers me in her juices before sliding back down. She takes the cock ring off and tosses the cross aside. "Okay." She then undoes the chains and I know it's time. She loves being pounded into. I pull her onto the floor and she moans in delight as I slam into her greedy pussy. "Fuck." She bites my shoulder until I bleed as I fuck her hard.

She meets my hips thrust for thrust and draws me deep into her body.  "Harder." She whispers  and I have no problem complying. She's gasping for air as I slam into her drenched passage. She gets way too much pleasure from beating me.

"HARDER!" She screams and I pull out.

She whimpers. "Hands and knees, Bitch." I command. She laughs sadistically while jumping into position. We've had some really great sex this way and tonight will be no exception. I slam into her from behind and just start pummeling into her, hard and fast, until she's a whimpering pile of slayer.

"Please… I need…" I grab her clit and twist roughly and she goes over as I continue sawing in and out of her. She feels so fucking good. I've forgotten about the burns in my mouth or on my cock because this is well worth it.

She comes again when she realizes that I'm not finished with her. I'll fuck her until she can't come anymore and I'll make her come again just to show her I can.

"Fuck, Faith, you're so goddamned tight." I grunt into her ear.

"Don'tstopdon'tstopdon'tstopdon'tstopAngelpleasedon'tstop." She chants over and over between and through moans of pleasure.

"Just keep coming." I tell her. She nods and I make her come again and again.

"Angel…" She arches her back and is practically crying, from pain or pleasure I'm not sure and I don't really care. If we cared, we wouldn't do this to each other.

I pound into her a little bit more before grabbing her and throwing her on the floor again on her back. I pounce on top of her and slam into her hard.  She loves it when I do this. As much as she complains afterwards, she loves it.

"Angel…" She whimpers and pulls my head towards her neck. She's had enough.

I growl loudly as my fangs tear into her neck. She comes a final time as I erupt inside her. There's nothing quite like the feeling of filling a slayer while she's filling you. I drink her down until she's whimpering and gasping for air. I pull away and manage to pull us onto the bed where we collapse next to each other.

I glance over at my clock. "Six hours."

"A new record." She whispers as she curls up next to me. This is part of the ritual as well, the afterward, when we hold each other, not out of love, but out of needing to have someone. I wrap my bruised arm around her and she falls asleep. I close my eyes and take a few moments to feel the wounds and the aftermath of sex.

She didn't cause permanent damage. She never does. She just gives me the pain I need to remember what I fight for, why I fight. She gives me the pain and pleasure that I need to remember that I'm on this planet and will never be part of it. And I suppose I do likewise for her, when she's chained to bed and I brandish the knife.

Let the punishment fit the crime. But I don't think Faith will ever be able to carry that out. There's too much to atone for. And we both know it.
 
 

                                  ~El Fin~
 
 

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