Fallen Angels

The Rules

 

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"Say it again," demanded Angelus, giving her throat a sharp squeeze.

 

"Yes,” Willow swallowed back the tears that were threatening to burst forth in a flood of emotion. “I'll become your consort.

 

"Spike," his voice was low and as his hand dropped from about her throat, Willow opened her eyes only to find his chocolate gaze firmly fixed on her.

 

"Yes, Angelus," Spike sauntered through the open doorway, casting a half smirk in Willow's general direction before turning his full attention to his sire.

 

"Tell them," he stated calmly and held out his hand. Spike reached into one of the multitudes of pockets in his duster and pulled out a black velvet jewelry box and handed it over to his sire. "Then I want you to organize Sierra's. We'll be there in an hour."

 

Willow frowned. Sierra's was one of the most exclusive department stores in Sunnydale and they certainly weren't open during the small hours of Sunday morning. She watched silently as Spike spoke softly to Angelus for a few moments, the dark haired vampire had opened the box and was fingering whatever it hid from her, nodding and agreeing to whatever the Spike was asking.  With a dramatic flare of his duster, Spike turned and she was once more alone with Angelus. Tossing the black velvet box onto the winged chair, he turned his full attention back to Willow.

 

"Strip," the order was barked out and Willow's head shot up to meet his gaze. Slowly, she started to shake her head and Angelus' face remained cold. "Strip, or I'll rip your clothes off and you can go about naked until I send you back to your parents house."

 

< My home, > amended Willow to herself as she broke his gaze. Except it wasn't home anymore. It was as Angelus had said - her parents' house.  That was when the enormity of the situation hit her; she was no longer an individual able to make her own choices. She had given herself completely to a master vampire, a master vampire who was waiting for her to strip. Slowly, reluctantly, she began to take her clothes off. With every piece of clothing that fell to the floor a part of her shattered and collapsed, her bottom lip trembled, her throat tightened and she could feel the hot tears burning behind her eyes.

 

"There is no room for tears, Willow," Angelus growled as he watched. "They’re a waste, so spare them. I don't want to see them."

 

Willow kept her eyes steadily on the floor and swallowed back the lump in her throat as she wriggled out of her underwear. Instinctively her hands and arms tried to shield her body from Angelus' unrelenting stare.

 

"Stop trying to be modest, little girl," he leant in and whispered in her ear before slowly circling her, chuckling softly. "I've seen it all before. Keep your hands by your side and raise your head, I don't want you looking at the floor like some whipped boy."

 

Willow raised her head, taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She could feel him, his fully clothed body only a few inches from hers as he continued to circle her, his eyes roaming over her body, taking in every little detail, every curve, every scar.

 

"I like your skin," he whispered from behind her, the words leaving a feather light touch on her naked shoulders. "So pale, so perfect.  It's almost luminous and such a contrast to your hair.  Red, such a glorious color, nearly the same shade as like blood."

 

He purred the word, letting it roll about the room and Willow shuddered in a strange mixture of fear and longing. He continued to survey her naked body, circling slowly, his voice and words were hypnotic, dulling her fear, making her body crave something only he could give.

 

"Legs and arms, so long and slender and perfect in their own way. Nice soft, rounded ass, feminine beyond belief. A slim waist and a beautiful back. I could spend hours drawing and sketching on your back, it's like a blank canvas, smooth and pale just begging to be marked. But every canvas has to be framed and it’s done perfectly by your shoulders.  Of course,” he moved about and she wasn’t certain where he was standing, but her nipples were hardening, tingling and she could fancy that she felt him in front of her.  “Your back is nothing compared to your front.  Such a beautiful stomach dimpled by your navel, deceptively cute.  Then there are those charmingly pert breasts, soft and subtle, round and sweet, pretty little pink nipples setting them off."

 

Willow couldn't see anything anymore, her vision blinded by the hypnotic haze of erotica that Angelus' words and voice had created. As he spoke of her body it responded, blood rushed through her, warming her, setting her nerve endings on fire. Her whole body ached to be touched and her mind had long ago shut down, lust and need easily overriding fear and loathing.

 

"But all those are nothing compared to your face..." Angelus whispered, his fingers hovering millimeters above her cheek, his thumb caressing the air above her lips. Willow trembled, she could feel those phantom fingers on her skin, leaving a burning imprint. "Such sweet lips, soft and moist. Hiding the treasure trove that's your mouth with your warm tongue and your honey sweet essence. And your soul, your being...your eyes..."

 

He gazed deep into those unseeing green orbs and smirked to himself.

 

"They show everything you are, your weaknesses, your strengths, your hatred..." he paused for a moment, his fingers finally making contact with her flushed face, sliding along the cheek and tangling in her hair, pulling her head back. "Your love..."

 

Willow whimpered at the fingers massaging her scalp, bringing her out of the world he had created with his words, his lips were brushing across hers, a soft chaste kiss. Sighing, she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her. He didn't. With a growl his free arm snaked about her waist and dragged her hard against him as his fingers tightened in her hair and his fangs sank into her neck.

 

Taking a deep breath, she clutched blindly at his clothes, pain shattering any erotic illusions he may have created and she screamed. Her fingers dug in deep, her eyes filled with tears as she continued to scream as he fed from her, hungrily, greedily, possessively. Her scream added to his pleasure and he pulled her in tighter against him. As the scream died on her lips he released her, pushing her back and causing her to collapse on the floor in a sobbing heap.

 

Turning away, Angelus picked up the velvet box he had previously abandoned. Opening it, he pulled out an elaborate rose gold choker worked in a series of fine Celtic knots. Discarding the box again, he squatted down in front of Willow roughly pulling her hair out of the way and fastening the necklace. Her hands flew up to her neck, feeling the confines of the heavy and tight choker, her green tear filled eyes met with his chocolate brown.

 

"You don't ever take it off, unless I tell you to," he stated, standing up. "You have five minutes to get dressed. We're going out."

 

***

 

They were sitting in the private show rooms of Sierra's, Willow had often heard of these rooms and Cordelia had boasted that she was amongst the exclusive few who were privy to this type of service.  Customers were waited upon and the items they were interested in were bought to them and modeled in the privacy of lavish rooms.

 

Not such a strange thing, but Willow shifted uncomfortably on her chair, but at 2am on a Sunday morning? She glanced about at the things Angelus had chosen so far, clothes, shoes and other bits and pieces. Willow hadn't said anything, she was still in shock of what was happening, what had happened. But now, some two hours after she, Angelus and Spike had sat down in this room, she just had to say something as Angelus surveyed the various items of underwear being modeled.

 

"What makes you think I'm actually going to wear any of these things?" she asked, finding it ridiculous that he merely assumed she would. Angelus ignored her, passing on various instructions to the staff of what he wanted. Spike turned and shot her a withering scowl.  Crossing her arms, she frowned. "You can buy them, but you're wasting your money."

 

She didn't even see it coming. His hand shot out and slapped her hard across the cheek, sending her reeling back in the chair she was sitting in. Gasping in shock, she brought her own hand up to cradle her stinging cheek and stared at him. It was if nothing had happened, he was still talking to the staff and they seemed unconcerned over his action. Willow felt the tears spill onto her cheek, hot and angry. Bitterly, she wiped them away and stood up, his hand shot out grabbed her wrist, almost crushing it.

 

"Sit," Angelus spat at her.

 

Willow frowned at him, her breath coming in short gasps and she fought against his hold on her wrist.  It was an act of defiance that she instantly regretted as he stood up and yanked her to him.  His fingers tangled in her hair, yanking her head back and forcing her to look at him before his hand cracked across her face again.  The blow was harder this time and held enough force to send her sprawling to the ground, her shoulder colliding with the chair she had been sitting in and she dissolved in a flood of tears.

 

Calmly, Angelus sat back down and motioned for the staff to continue. With a malevolent snarl, he glanced down at her.  "Don't waste your tears. You can stay there until we are ready to leave."

 

After an hour of staying in that demeaning position, Willow was ordered up and they left the store, returning to the mansion half an hour before sunrise. Angelus led her back up to the rooms and pushed her into the bedroom.

 

"Sleep," he stated quietly, looking her over. "We have people coming at three. You'll wear what is put out for you."

 

With that he turned on his heel and Willow was left alone, terrified and confused.  She bolted to the bed, crawling up onto the downy surface, pausing to pull off her shoes before hiding herself away under the covers, still fully clothed.  Sleep was the last thing she expected to do, but safely hidden beneath the warmth of the quilt, she quickly succumbed to the darkness.

 

The peace was short-lived though and Spike woke her with breakfast and instructions to bathe and get dress in the simple slip that Angelus had left for her. Three o'clock saw her pacing the confines of the sitting room of her suite when the door opened and Spike ushered in a small army of people, causing Willow to raise an eyebrow.

 

They turned out to be a beautician, who waxed anything and everything that could be waxed, while working out her skin type, giving her a full facial and eyelash tint.  The next in line was a hairdresser, who worked silently in styling her hair, cutting it into long layers and framing her face while the beautician gave her a full manicure and pedicure. They were just about to leave when Angelus walked in, casting a glance at Spike, who was lounging in one of the chairs watching the proceedings with a bored expression on his face.

 

"Have they explained everything to you?" Angelus asked Willow, who stared blankly at him. "Spike?"

 

"She's been told how to look after her hair and that woman," he waved offhandedly at the beautician. "Raved endlessly about cleansing and moisturizing and all that crap...so yes, she's been told."

 

Willow stared at Angelus. He had to be joking, he expected her to stick to some beauty routine like she was Cordelia? She was about to open her mouth to say something when she remembered the error of doing that at Sierra's. So she made do with casting him deadly, stake-filled stares. He merely laughed at her as he wandered over to the rosewood table and picked up the various tubes and jars that the beautician recommended.

 

"We'll need two of everything," he stated to the professionals entourage.

 

“Why?" asked Willow and cringed back, waiting for him to strike out at her again.

 

"One for here and one for your parents house," he told her, taking a seat in the green leather chair, watching as the hairdresser and beautician finished up. "And you will use them. If you don't, I'll beat you black and blue."

 

Willow bit her bottom lip, she had no doubt after last night that he would do it. Leaning back into the chair, he watched her, his fingers steepling beneath his chin. Clenching his jaw, he stretched out his arms, casually resting one of his ankles on his knee.

 

"Is the car ready?" Angelus asked Spike, not taking his eyes off Willow.

 

"Yeah, the clothes you want her to keep at her parents house are in the trunk."

 

Angelus grunted, smiling slightly at the growing look of annoyance on Willow's face. "Let's go then."

 

Another few bags were handed to Angelus, Willow assumed they contained the cosmetics he was so insistent that she use and Spike mockingly bowed to her, indicating for her to follow the dark haired vampire. Scowling, she pushed herself away from the chair and followed him through the mansion. The car trip was spent in silence and once they had gotten to her house she had invited them both in through clenched teeth.

 

"Well, this is..." Spike looked about the bedroom with its soft toys and brightly colored interior. "Fluffy."

 

"Not as fluffy as this," stated Angelus, pulling open her wardrobe and shaking his head. Gleefully, he reached in and picked up one of her favorite sweaters. His fingers almost lovingly caressed the material before he shrugged and effortlessly tore it in half.

 

"No," cried out Willow, trying to stop him. His arm lashed out and easily caught her about the waist, snagging her to him.  In vain, she struggled against his hold, trying to save her favorite clothes.

 

"You don’t ever tell me no, Willow," Angelus snarled, reaching in with his free hand and pulling out a set of overalls, tearing at them, shredding the fabric. "That's a lesson I thought you would have learnt by now."

 

He shoved her back and started to pull the clothes from the closet, easily ripping them in half or shredding the material, making them unwearable.

 

"You will be home by 9pm every night, do you understand?" he demanded of her, glaring at the redhead and she mutely nodded in agreement, fighting back the tears. "You will do everything you are told, no questions asked."

 

He continued to shred her clothes, indicating for Spike to start on her drawers. She was mortified as the blond chuckled over the contents of her underwear drawer.

 

"You will wear what you are told to. You will not tell anyone about our arrangement otherwise the agreement is null and void..." he paused for a moment to stare her down, cruelty flashing through his eyes.  "Although you will still belong to me. You answer only to me, but Spike will fetch you. When you are in his care you will obey him.  Do you understand Willow?"

 

Willow stared at them both and the shredded remains of the life she had been leading. She was angry, she was pissed and she was totally powerless. She sat on the edge of her bed, defeated.

 

“Yes, Angelus,” she said softly.  “I understand."

 

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