ext_72342 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
salustra.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tamingthemuse2013-07-23 01:15 pm
salustra.livejournal.com) wrote in tamingthemuse2013-07-23 01:15 pm
Entry tags:
366 sarcasm- Victory Verse 8- Memory (Spike/Angelus) (NC-17)
AUTHOR: Salustra
E-MAIL: Salustra: goddess_salustra@juno.com
TITLE: Victory Verse 8- Memory
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Spike/Angelus
SUMMARY: Spike spends a day reliving some memories. Done for tamingthemuse #366-sarcasm. Eight in the Victory Verse.
Distribution: Various lists, Wierd Romance Yahoo Group- http://groups.yahoo.com/group/WierdRomance ;
My livejournal - http://salustra.livejournal.com/ ; and the website Weird Romances- http://www.freewebs.com/salustra/wr/index.html . No posting elsewhere without express permission please.
SPOILERS: Through Angel S5 x08 - "Destiny"
CONTENT: {NOTE: References in flashbacks are expressions of attitudes of the times in the memory, not the attitudes of the character in current day settings.} Bondage, m/m sex, bloodplay, violence, non-con, vague implications of torture and abuse.
DISCLAIMER: Playing wit the boys, but we’re just having fun. No money made, don’t sue us! (or, in more formal language-
Copyright Disclaimer I do not own any characters, products or services depicted in this story which you recognize. Original characters/characterization and plot are mine. Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel The Series characters are OOC and I cite section 107 of the US copyright clause on 'fair use' to be found HERE
Principally this is a transformative work, for enjoyment only, has a selective audience and I make no profit. )
FEEDBACK: Yes please.
Length: 2,890 words.
The day passed very slowly. I had forgotten, after all this while, how long a day can be when I was bound and immobile. I had to admit it was relatively comfortable. The bed was top-notch, really, and the restraints were lined. No marks on my pretty skin when and if Angelus took the manacles off. I had spent some of my time amusing myself by trying to test both the strength of the chains and the bed. All I had gotten for my exertions was more tired.
Damn Angelus only gave me a few sips anyway, just enough to wake me up. Would he give me more if I was a good boy? Well, that game I knew how to play. I could be a very good boy, at least by Angelus' definition of 'good'. He'd spent a long time training me exactly how to be good for him.
At least that gave me something to do. I spent the last few hours of the day dredging up old memories. Really old memories. Now after a lifetime or so all vampires who want to stay sane do that memory palace thing. Unlike humans our memories are damn slow to fade without mystical help or madness, so we organize them and shove the vivid full-sense recall away until we need it. Mine was a rambling Victorian mansion. Good memories were wrapped in gossamer silk and kept carefully tucked away in the children's playroom to protect them. Wild erotic ones were tucked in fur or leather or lace or velvet and hidden about the boudoir. And the dark ones...they were in the basement, in the locked cell. The other workaday ones had their own systems, but it's those three rooms I needed to visit today.
The children's playroom first. It would give me strength for the others. I picked up a piece of familiar white silk with a spot of red and unwrapped it. My first morning in the bed after he took me. I could feel it as if I were there, cool bed linens against my skin and the smell of him, the first time I noticed really how he smelled with my vampire senses. Musk and rain and heather. He'd taken such pains to make sure everything was clean, that everything was quiet and dim, that it was only us and a small pool of light created by the candle, which was now more than enough brightness to see him as day. I could feel the pull inside, the pull of blood, but it was something greater. He was asleep still. I traced his body in my mind, trying to commit every curve to memory. I was besotted, I was enraptured. And I was a virgin no longer. He'd taken me like a woman, made me enjoy it, taken his time to seduce me and prepare me and make me gasp and scream in ecstasy. I did not know if vampires were supposed to love, I was too new, but I knew I loved him with my stupid poet's heart and I wanted to worship him.
He awoke, and those dark eyes found me. They fixed me there. He moved, a sleepy lion stretching and awakening, his muscles rippling in display. "So, my beautiful boy, what are you thinking now behind those lovely blue eyes of yours?"
I shivered. I couldn't lie, really I was no good at it anyway and he'd be able to tell. "That, well, that I love you." I blushed scarlet and dropped my eyes to the bed and wondered how as a vampire I could still be so foolish.
His reaction was so sudden and violent it shocked me. He pushed me to the bed in a swift motion, pinning me to the bed. He held both my wrists in one strong hand above my head and leaned in close, nuzzling my cheek. "My beautiful boy, those words please me more than you know. But you must not utter them again except when we are utterly alone and miles away from anyone else. Do you understand?" I nodded, not daring to speak. "Good. Because I love you too, my boy. Though I may never ever say it again. I made you for me. My favored, my one to keep always. Remember this always. I have never said this to any as I've said it to you and never will to another. There is love and there is love."
I was a poet, with a poet's heart. I knew what he meant. This was something just for us. A secret too precious to be breathed aloud. "I understand."
He relaxed then, seeing truth in my eyes and in my body. "When I call you 'my beautiful boy', you will know what it really means?" I nodded, feeling the prick of tears and fighting them.
I came back to myself and wrapped up the silk, not able to bear that memory any further. That night and that day were so many things. They were a lie, meant to buy my heart, and they were the truth. The truth Angelus couldn't admit to himself even as he said the words. The lie that was true. God it was the Victorian age and it overflowed with tragic and excessive romanticism and I was still a prisoner of it, still love's bitch. I still loved him, in some sickly twisted way among all the other shit, and that meant the same was probably true for him and dammit didn't that make this all so much harder and more complicated.
I steadied myself and stayed there awhile, opening a few more. There was one of our times at the opera, and the trip to Leningrad, and the trip to the mary club where we had danced together. Time to move on. I had enough good, I thought, to handle the basement. The boudoir would wait for the last.
I let my feet take the familiar path to the basement. The last few years had given me many reasons to visit here that had nothing to do with Angelus. Damn Glory, damn The First, damn Caleb, damn Pavayne, and damn Buffy while I was at it. I unlocked the door of the cage and walked in, letting my hands caress the chains that hung from the ceiling, finding the ones I wanted. I curled long fingers around an old and well-worn chain and hung there, letting the memory come.
I had lost track of the number of days. We were alone in Germany, Darla and Dru had gone off on an extended trip to see the Master, and there was no one to distract him or stop him. I had annoyed him by taking a harmless tumble with a lovely young tavern singer, and honestly I'd done it to provoke him. What I hadn't counted on was a full-on possessive attack. He'd bound my arms painfully behind me, manacles on the wrists, straps on the elbows and biceps. He'd bound my legs-- ankles, above and below knees, and then ankles to thighs to keep me kneeling. He'd forced a huge scorpion ring gag into my mouth and I'd spent hours and hours now every day pleasuring him orally. If I was good he'd feed me blood by pouring it down my throat. When he was otherwise occupied or sleeping he locked me in a chest padded round with furs, still bound. With no circulation issues or waste issues he could of course keep me like this as long as he liked, and that was what terrified me. He seldom spoke to me except to tell me what a dirty whore I was and that I was his and before he finished I would have nothing left in me but the desire to be his. If this continued much longer, I wasn't entirely sure I could continue to defy his prediction.
I let go the chain and dropped. If Darla hadn't returned in time and demanded he untie me so I could handle Dru while he saw to her needs, I don't know what I would have become. I looked down and saw I was hard, and shook my head. He trained me well. I shivered hard and then forced myself to get up and grab another chain. I was pale and shaking but painfully hard by the time I walked slowly out of the cage and closed the door behind me.
The memories in that cage were what frightened me about submitting to him again. Because I knew, because he'd proven to me again and again, if he wanted me to enjoy it and most of the time even if he didn't, I would enjoy it. Because it was him. It wasn't just physical. He'd made me to be his and back then I was. I had my rebellious phase when I reached twenty, as most vamps do, but it didn't change the essential facts. I was a century older than the fledge he'd trained but I didn't know how much it would help. He had all the leverage on his side and I had almost none on mine.
I sighed deeply and left the basement and the cage behind. I entered the boudoir. It still held a bit of power over my old Victorian sensibilities as somewhat naughty to be entering this woman's domain. Delicate scents of powder and perfumes and exotic oils mixed delightfully in the air. Everything was soft here, all curves, all a subtle invitation to wickedness. I opened one of the closets and stepped inside, letting my hands find the heavy sable fur I wanted. I lifted it out and carried it out, settling onto one of the thickly padded chaise lounges and draping the fur over me like a blanket. I stroked my hands over the fur, and I could feel the cold and the hear the clopping of the horses.
We were on a carriage going through the German countryside. It had been a very fierce winter and we were comfortable ensconced by ourselves, sitting on layers of thick rugs with furs piled heavily over us. We'd both put the comfort and privacy to good use as we bounced along, but now it had gotten even colder and we'd at least partially dressed now. He'd pulled me close the way he often did when we slept together. It was a possessive and protective pose, with me pulled against his chest. My only choice was back to him or front to him... if he was feeling indulgent. Before he fell asleep I'd have both arms securely around me and one leg wrapped over me. I'd tried on occasion to pull out of the hold and had no luck, he only tightened it, growled, and muttered at me to go back to sleep.
We were supposed to meet Darla and Dru in Munich. Darla was mad about the new art scene there, so many artists from so many places there. She also mentioned in her letter that many refugees were fleeing some calamities in Russia so the feeding was easy and plentiful. At this rate, however, we'd be lucky to make it to the next inn before dawn.
Then there was a horrid jolt and the world turned and rolled and rolled again before it finally stopped. There were the screams of injured horses and no sound at all of the carriage men. Angelus scowled and growled and cursed. "Damn all incompetents. Finish dressing, boy, and get the warmest furs. I'm glad we sent the baggage ahead. Darla and Drusilla would give us more trouble than it's worth to show up without proper presents for them."
I scrambled to pull on my clothes and get out the thicker of the furs that had been piled on us. But I stopped to slide into my own present from Angelus, a thick coat of Russian sable, dark as sin and soft as a caress. I didn't want to lose it. I trudged around to the front of the carriage where Angelus stood. The horses had stopped their screaming. Angelus had taken their blood and put them down more painlessly than a human could have managed. The two carriage men, it seemed, had been thrown from their seats. One's neck had broken, and the other was impaled on a tree. Dead. I took them in fairly impassively, other than to frown a bit. It was still a long way to Munich.
"Don't frown, my beautiful boy. Come here." Angelus looked at me with his glittering dark eyes and I came closer. He grabbed me and pulled me against him, whirled so that I faced away from him. He lowered his mouth to my ear and whispered softly. "One problem at a time. Dawn is a few hours away and we need shelter. A storm is coming or we could use the remains of the carriage. Now I want you to concentrate very hard, use all your senses. Tell me if you can get any hint of where we should go."
Training me, of course. He'd already gotten an idea and wanted to see if I could find the same cues. So I concentrated, one sense at a time, stretching, working them like muscles. There was the faintest scent of smoke in the fairly still air when a breeze would stir. I looked in the direction of the breeze and when it died, I could see a curl of smoke that could only be a chimney. I pointed at it. "Chimney smoke that way. Means a house and people, so lodging and food all in one tasty package."
"Very good, my sweet William. Yes. We'll have to run full out for it but I think we can make it."
We each took a few furs in case we had to cover to dodge the rising sun and find makeshift shelter instead, but otherwise we simply took off in what we wore. With no humans to see, and no need to hold much in reserve, we ran with all the power and speed we could. It was truly wild. In our furs, moving as a blur almost across the land, we were primal gods. I could feel the headiness of it, the burn of the blood in me. The warmth in me was like unto the sun and I felt alive in a way I never knew. But there was the little voice in my head. We both knew there was a point we would have to stop the burn before it consumed us. When we would need to kill and feed almost as soon as we stopped. It was a race, the false suns inside us against the real sun slowly creeping around to find us.
And suddenly we broke out of the trees and there it was, the little house. It was a woodman's house, quite obviously, with only a kitchen garden and a few chickens and some cows for feeding the household. We didn't bother with subtlety. We went for the cows first, knowing their frightened moos would bring out the woodsman. It did, and down he went, and his wife, and the cows, and the chickens, and their tasty daughter almost ripe for plucking. We shoved the bodies into the barn and locked it up, getting into the house safely just as the first tentative fingers of light started searching through the trees.
It had been a lovely massacre. No thinking, no drawn out elaborate concoctions. Just the rush and the crunch and the kill and the feed and now god I was so very aroused. Angelus looked at me knowingly, no smirk. "Come on, my little hunter."
There weren't any words after that. Words weren't needed. Grunts and moans, growls and purrs and mewls and the myriad of little sounds and cues vampires had just for themselves. Angelus had put the sable back on me, on my naked body, after my clothes were pulled away. The fur had rubbed between us, stroked our skin as we moved. Tonight we had been hunters, only hunters, killing to survive, risking everything to make it to food and shelter and god the blood tasted so sweet and the snug walls around us better than a palace and right now all I wanted was for this moment to go on forever. Just pleasure. Just now. No thinking, no past, no future, just now.
I pulled my hands up off the sable with the greatest reluctance. But that, that was the moment I needed. The thing Angelus had awakened, my hedonism, and my ability to make a moment just about that moment and to hell with the pain I'd have to swallow later.
My eyes fluttered open for real back in the CEO dungeon, and perfect timing. Angelus walked in the door, looking at me with those dark eyes I knew so well. "So, boy, what's it to be?" He couldn't help but smirk at my obvious arousal.
Without a trace of sarcasm, I said, "It's a deal. Now you want to shag me first or discuss terms?"
"Probably both at once," he said with a curl of his lip.
That was the Sire I knew. It was going to be a long night.
E-MAIL: Salustra: goddess_salustra@juno.com
TITLE: Victory Verse 8- Memory
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Spike/Angelus
SUMMARY: Spike spends a day reliving some memories. Done for tamingthemuse #366-sarcasm. Eight in the Victory Verse.
Distribution: Various lists, Wierd Romance Yahoo Group- http://groups.yahoo.com/group/WierdRomance ;
My livejournal - http://salustra.livejournal.com/ ; and the website Weird Romances- http://www.freewebs.com/salustra/wr/index.html . No posting elsewhere without express permission please.
SPOILERS: Through Angel S5 x08 - "Destiny"
CONTENT: {NOTE: References in flashbacks are expressions of attitudes of the times in the memory, not the attitudes of the character in current day settings.} Bondage, m/m sex, bloodplay, violence, non-con, vague implications of torture and abuse.
DISCLAIMER: Playing wit the boys, but we’re just having fun. No money made, don’t sue us! (or, in more formal language-
Copyright Disclaimer I do not own any characters, products or services depicted in this story which you recognize. Original characters/characterization and plot are mine. Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel The Series characters are OOC and I cite section 107 of the US copyright clause on 'fair use' to be found HERE
Principally this is a transformative work, for enjoyment only, has a selective audience and I make no profit. )
FEEDBACK: Yes please.
Length: 2,890 words.
The day passed very slowly. I had forgotten, after all this while, how long a day can be when I was bound and immobile. I had to admit it was relatively comfortable. The bed was top-notch, really, and the restraints were lined. No marks on my pretty skin when and if Angelus took the manacles off. I had spent some of my time amusing myself by trying to test both the strength of the chains and the bed. All I had gotten for my exertions was more tired.
Damn Angelus only gave me a few sips anyway, just enough to wake me up. Would he give me more if I was a good boy? Well, that game I knew how to play. I could be a very good boy, at least by Angelus' definition of 'good'. He'd spent a long time training me exactly how to be good for him.
At least that gave me something to do. I spent the last few hours of the day dredging up old memories. Really old memories. Now after a lifetime or so all vampires who want to stay sane do that memory palace thing. Unlike humans our memories are damn slow to fade without mystical help or madness, so we organize them and shove the vivid full-sense recall away until we need it. Mine was a rambling Victorian mansion. Good memories were wrapped in gossamer silk and kept carefully tucked away in the children's playroom to protect them. Wild erotic ones were tucked in fur or leather or lace or velvet and hidden about the boudoir. And the dark ones...they were in the basement, in the locked cell. The other workaday ones had their own systems, but it's those three rooms I needed to visit today.
The children's playroom first. It would give me strength for the others. I picked up a piece of familiar white silk with a spot of red and unwrapped it. My first morning in the bed after he took me. I could feel it as if I were there, cool bed linens against my skin and the smell of him, the first time I noticed really how he smelled with my vampire senses. Musk and rain and heather. He'd taken such pains to make sure everything was clean, that everything was quiet and dim, that it was only us and a small pool of light created by the candle, which was now more than enough brightness to see him as day. I could feel the pull inside, the pull of blood, but it was something greater. He was asleep still. I traced his body in my mind, trying to commit every curve to memory. I was besotted, I was enraptured. And I was a virgin no longer. He'd taken me like a woman, made me enjoy it, taken his time to seduce me and prepare me and make me gasp and scream in ecstasy. I did not know if vampires were supposed to love, I was too new, but I knew I loved him with my stupid poet's heart and I wanted to worship him.
He awoke, and those dark eyes found me. They fixed me there. He moved, a sleepy lion stretching and awakening, his muscles rippling in display. "So, my beautiful boy, what are you thinking now behind those lovely blue eyes of yours?"
I shivered. I couldn't lie, really I was no good at it anyway and he'd be able to tell. "That, well, that I love you." I blushed scarlet and dropped my eyes to the bed and wondered how as a vampire I could still be so foolish.
His reaction was so sudden and violent it shocked me. He pushed me to the bed in a swift motion, pinning me to the bed. He held both my wrists in one strong hand above my head and leaned in close, nuzzling my cheek. "My beautiful boy, those words please me more than you know. But you must not utter them again except when we are utterly alone and miles away from anyone else. Do you understand?" I nodded, not daring to speak. "Good. Because I love you too, my boy. Though I may never ever say it again. I made you for me. My favored, my one to keep always. Remember this always. I have never said this to any as I've said it to you and never will to another. There is love and there is love."
I was a poet, with a poet's heart. I knew what he meant. This was something just for us. A secret too precious to be breathed aloud. "I understand."
He relaxed then, seeing truth in my eyes and in my body. "When I call you 'my beautiful boy', you will know what it really means?" I nodded, feeling the prick of tears and fighting them.
I came back to myself and wrapped up the silk, not able to bear that memory any further. That night and that day were so many things. They were a lie, meant to buy my heart, and they were the truth. The truth Angelus couldn't admit to himself even as he said the words. The lie that was true. God it was the Victorian age and it overflowed with tragic and excessive romanticism and I was still a prisoner of it, still love's bitch. I still loved him, in some sickly twisted way among all the other shit, and that meant the same was probably true for him and dammit didn't that make this all so much harder and more complicated.
I steadied myself and stayed there awhile, opening a few more. There was one of our times at the opera, and the trip to Leningrad, and the trip to the mary club where we had danced together. Time to move on. I had enough good, I thought, to handle the basement. The boudoir would wait for the last.
I let my feet take the familiar path to the basement. The last few years had given me many reasons to visit here that had nothing to do with Angelus. Damn Glory, damn The First, damn Caleb, damn Pavayne, and damn Buffy while I was at it. I unlocked the door of the cage and walked in, letting my hands caress the chains that hung from the ceiling, finding the ones I wanted. I curled long fingers around an old and well-worn chain and hung there, letting the memory come.
I had lost track of the number of days. We were alone in Germany, Darla and Dru had gone off on an extended trip to see the Master, and there was no one to distract him or stop him. I had annoyed him by taking a harmless tumble with a lovely young tavern singer, and honestly I'd done it to provoke him. What I hadn't counted on was a full-on possessive attack. He'd bound my arms painfully behind me, manacles on the wrists, straps on the elbows and biceps. He'd bound my legs-- ankles, above and below knees, and then ankles to thighs to keep me kneeling. He'd forced a huge scorpion ring gag into my mouth and I'd spent hours and hours now every day pleasuring him orally. If I was good he'd feed me blood by pouring it down my throat. When he was otherwise occupied or sleeping he locked me in a chest padded round with furs, still bound. With no circulation issues or waste issues he could of course keep me like this as long as he liked, and that was what terrified me. He seldom spoke to me except to tell me what a dirty whore I was and that I was his and before he finished I would have nothing left in me but the desire to be his. If this continued much longer, I wasn't entirely sure I could continue to defy his prediction.
I let go the chain and dropped. If Darla hadn't returned in time and demanded he untie me so I could handle Dru while he saw to her needs, I don't know what I would have become. I looked down and saw I was hard, and shook my head. He trained me well. I shivered hard and then forced myself to get up and grab another chain. I was pale and shaking but painfully hard by the time I walked slowly out of the cage and closed the door behind me.
The memories in that cage were what frightened me about submitting to him again. Because I knew, because he'd proven to me again and again, if he wanted me to enjoy it and most of the time even if he didn't, I would enjoy it. Because it was him. It wasn't just physical. He'd made me to be his and back then I was. I had my rebellious phase when I reached twenty, as most vamps do, but it didn't change the essential facts. I was a century older than the fledge he'd trained but I didn't know how much it would help. He had all the leverage on his side and I had almost none on mine.
I sighed deeply and left the basement and the cage behind. I entered the boudoir. It still held a bit of power over my old Victorian sensibilities as somewhat naughty to be entering this woman's domain. Delicate scents of powder and perfumes and exotic oils mixed delightfully in the air. Everything was soft here, all curves, all a subtle invitation to wickedness. I opened one of the closets and stepped inside, letting my hands find the heavy sable fur I wanted. I lifted it out and carried it out, settling onto one of the thickly padded chaise lounges and draping the fur over me like a blanket. I stroked my hands over the fur, and I could feel the cold and the hear the clopping of the horses.
We were on a carriage going through the German countryside. It had been a very fierce winter and we were comfortable ensconced by ourselves, sitting on layers of thick rugs with furs piled heavily over us. We'd both put the comfort and privacy to good use as we bounced along, but now it had gotten even colder and we'd at least partially dressed now. He'd pulled me close the way he often did when we slept together. It was a possessive and protective pose, with me pulled against his chest. My only choice was back to him or front to him... if he was feeling indulgent. Before he fell asleep I'd have both arms securely around me and one leg wrapped over me. I'd tried on occasion to pull out of the hold and had no luck, he only tightened it, growled, and muttered at me to go back to sleep.
We were supposed to meet Darla and Dru in Munich. Darla was mad about the new art scene there, so many artists from so many places there. She also mentioned in her letter that many refugees were fleeing some calamities in Russia so the feeding was easy and plentiful. At this rate, however, we'd be lucky to make it to the next inn before dawn.
Then there was a horrid jolt and the world turned and rolled and rolled again before it finally stopped. There were the screams of injured horses and no sound at all of the carriage men. Angelus scowled and growled and cursed. "Damn all incompetents. Finish dressing, boy, and get the warmest furs. I'm glad we sent the baggage ahead. Darla and Drusilla would give us more trouble than it's worth to show up without proper presents for them."
I scrambled to pull on my clothes and get out the thicker of the furs that had been piled on us. But I stopped to slide into my own present from Angelus, a thick coat of Russian sable, dark as sin and soft as a caress. I didn't want to lose it. I trudged around to the front of the carriage where Angelus stood. The horses had stopped their screaming. Angelus had taken their blood and put them down more painlessly than a human could have managed. The two carriage men, it seemed, had been thrown from their seats. One's neck had broken, and the other was impaled on a tree. Dead. I took them in fairly impassively, other than to frown a bit. It was still a long way to Munich.
"Don't frown, my beautiful boy. Come here." Angelus looked at me with his glittering dark eyes and I came closer. He grabbed me and pulled me against him, whirled so that I faced away from him. He lowered his mouth to my ear and whispered softly. "One problem at a time. Dawn is a few hours away and we need shelter. A storm is coming or we could use the remains of the carriage. Now I want you to concentrate very hard, use all your senses. Tell me if you can get any hint of where we should go."
Training me, of course. He'd already gotten an idea and wanted to see if I could find the same cues. So I concentrated, one sense at a time, stretching, working them like muscles. There was the faintest scent of smoke in the fairly still air when a breeze would stir. I looked in the direction of the breeze and when it died, I could see a curl of smoke that could only be a chimney. I pointed at it. "Chimney smoke that way. Means a house and people, so lodging and food all in one tasty package."
"Very good, my sweet William. Yes. We'll have to run full out for it but I think we can make it."
We each took a few furs in case we had to cover to dodge the rising sun and find makeshift shelter instead, but otherwise we simply took off in what we wore. With no humans to see, and no need to hold much in reserve, we ran with all the power and speed we could. It was truly wild. In our furs, moving as a blur almost across the land, we were primal gods. I could feel the headiness of it, the burn of the blood in me. The warmth in me was like unto the sun and I felt alive in a way I never knew. But there was the little voice in my head. We both knew there was a point we would have to stop the burn before it consumed us. When we would need to kill and feed almost as soon as we stopped. It was a race, the false suns inside us against the real sun slowly creeping around to find us.
And suddenly we broke out of the trees and there it was, the little house. It was a woodman's house, quite obviously, with only a kitchen garden and a few chickens and some cows for feeding the household. We didn't bother with subtlety. We went for the cows first, knowing their frightened moos would bring out the woodsman. It did, and down he went, and his wife, and the cows, and the chickens, and their tasty daughter almost ripe for plucking. We shoved the bodies into the barn and locked it up, getting into the house safely just as the first tentative fingers of light started searching through the trees.
It had been a lovely massacre. No thinking, no drawn out elaborate concoctions. Just the rush and the crunch and the kill and the feed and now god I was so very aroused. Angelus looked at me knowingly, no smirk. "Come on, my little hunter."
There weren't any words after that. Words weren't needed. Grunts and moans, growls and purrs and mewls and the myriad of little sounds and cues vampires had just for themselves. Angelus had put the sable back on me, on my naked body, after my clothes were pulled away. The fur had rubbed between us, stroked our skin as we moved. Tonight we had been hunters, only hunters, killing to survive, risking everything to make it to food and shelter and god the blood tasted so sweet and the snug walls around us better than a palace and right now all I wanted was for this moment to go on forever. Just pleasure. Just now. No thinking, no past, no future, just now.
I pulled my hands up off the sable with the greatest reluctance. But that, that was the moment I needed. The thing Angelus had awakened, my hedonism, and my ability to make a moment just about that moment and to hell with the pain I'd have to swallow later.
My eyes fluttered open for real back in the CEO dungeon, and perfect timing. Angelus walked in the door, looking at me with those dark eyes I knew so well. "So, boy, what's it to be?" He couldn't help but smirk at my obvious arousal.
Without a trace of sarcasm, I said, "It's a deal. Now you want to shag me first or discuss terms?"
"Probably both at once," he said with a curl of his lip.
That was the Sire I knew. It was going to be a long night.