Title: Possédé
Author: Inca
Will perform sexual favours for feedback at [email protected]
Rating R - m/m sex
Puppy Angel/Spike
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, I just like watch them play
Spoilers - I never know the answer to this one...
Summary: Hmmm I like Puppy Angel, and in this delicious PWP, you can probably guess what happens to him.
**Written when I was 16, as you can tell, I adulated Chriss Moody and Shara Nesu very much. Go read theirs for a much better more original story :)** Inc - 2004
But when he came home, he often smelled like cemetery dirt and humans. Their sweat, their stink interfered with his Masters scent until he had showered. Puppy hated it when his Master came home smelling of people, especially the woman Angel had named in his mind ‘the dyed-blonde’. Angel didn’t know who it was, he wasn’t permitted out of the apartment, but he knew he hated the blonde. He could guess what his Master did with her and he despised her for it.
But he never mentioned it. Maybe he would tonight. Maybe he would give a reason, even though Puppy knew better to expect one.
Angel was stretched out on the bed, heavy lidded, thinking, purposely breathing in his Masters scent on the bed sheets, the pillows, and the remains of their most recent meeting.
He closed his eyes as he remembered the hot gaze of his Master, hands tight on his thighs holding them apart, blue eyes gleaming, as he made his Puppy squeal and twist on the bed beneath punishing thrusts.
He grudgingly got out of bed, and padded to the bathroom to take a hot shower. The hot water and soap washed away the previous encounter leaving the fresh spicy smell of sandalwood and clean skin, the preferred smell of his Master.
After the shower, Puppy wandered absently through the rooms of his master’s home. He slumped in a chair in the living room, the leather slightly sticking to his bare back. As he lounged, he toyed with the string of his drawstring sweat pants. His Master wouldn’t allow any other clothes, and Angel suspected he was only allowed pants for his Master’s sheer pleasure in taking them off.
He played with the idea of reading one of the books he had been bought to keep him occupied. He got up, selected one and opened it. 18th Century Gaelic verse. A smile ghosted his face as he scanned the poetry, pondering why his Master would be so thoughtful.
He sighed returning the book to its place. He didn’t want to read. He wanted his Master. He wanted his bright eyes, and cold hands and hard…
“Puppy? Where are you?”
His Masters deep accented voice, echoed through the apartment beginning at the hallway. He heard the door slam.
He turned as his Master walked into the room. Straight away Angel saw his Master was not in the best of humours. A scowl was settled upon his pale face like darkness and his blue eyes flashed.
He ran his hand through his bleached hair as his gaze alighted on his Puppy.
Angel didn’t know whether to answer him, or greet him, or stay silent. As he was making up his mind his Master spoke.
“Why are you just standing there like a shag on a rock? Is that anyway to greet me?”
He threw his long duster over a chair and crossed his arms over his chest. Angel didn’t like this. He felt scared. Nevertheless, he timidly walked to his owner; gaze fixed on the wooden floor, and placed a coy kiss on dry pink lips.
Spike rolled his eyes, and unfolded his arms, grabbing his Pet by the nape of the neck. He crushed his lips into Angels, who obligingly parted his, to allow Spikes angry tongue entrance. Spike broke the kiss after a few moments.
“Is it too much to ask that you greet me properly?”
“No, Master”
“Whose are you?”
“Yours, Master.”
Spike flopped onto one of the chairs with a satisfied grunt. Angel noted that his Master had been asking that question a lot of late. He stood pondering why his Master would need reaffirmation of that fact, and missed his next instruction. He looked at his Master, who was waiting expectantly.
“Sorry Master?”
Spike slapped him hard on the stomach.
“I said, get me a drink.”
Angel left the room, to the sound of an annoyed sigh, and the television being turned on. At this he turned, surprised eyes searching Spikes face.
Spike caught the look, and looked astonished.
“Are you disobeying me?”
Angel looked terrified at the thought, stumbled over a quick ‘No, Master’ and scampered into the kitchen. He wondered about the implications of the television. His Master never turned on the television when he came in, he was always happy to see his pet waiting for him. What was different?
As he slowly made the drink, he thought furiously about what he had done to make his Master so annoyed. Had he done everything he was required to?
He’d cleaned himself, with sandalwood soap. Yes. He was waiting for his Master to return. Yes. Wearing nothing but sweat pants. Yes. Washed and dried his hair? Yes.
Hadn’t been rude.
Had cleaned the apartment.
Hadn’t left the apartment.
“Puppy! Get your arse in here!”
As he re entered the room, he saw that his Master had a smoke in his mouth, an angry look on his face, and his shirt off, tossed carelessly on the ground.
Without looking at him he snatched the drink.
“Took long enough. How hard is it? To make a drink. Tell me.”
Puppy was lost for words. He stood, silently.
“What else do you have to do? Nothing. I do everything. You could practise making drinks if you want. You could practise all day.”
Angel wanted to heave. He felt bad, hopeless. His Master hated him. A horrible thought dawned on him. Was he going to throw him out? Was he going to bring ‘the dyed-blonde’ here instead? And love her, and lie her on the bed and touch her for the hours he had touched him?
He sniffed the air and found a trace of the horrible woman clinging to his Master. He hated her. If his Master threw him out he would come back just to murder the deplorable woman.
His Master was tense. He was fidgeting on the couch as he stared at the television. Angel watched as he took along breath through his nose, finished the drink and got off the chair, reaching for his discarded shirt.
Angel could hold it in no longer.
“Please don’t go. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did.”
He dropped to his knees.
His Master turned and stared at him. There was a beat of silence.
“What did you do?”
Angel dropped his gaze to the floor as he thought again. Not a thought entered his mind. He hung his head, defeated.
“I don’t know.” He choked out. “But please don’t leave me for it.”
Spike stopped for a moment. His eyes glued to the sight of his Pet, head bowed.
He walked over to him and ran his hand roughly through the soft hair. Puppy arched up to the touch. Any touch. He felt Spikes long cold finger under his chin, lifting his face up. He felt his lip trembling, and his Master ran his finger over it, stilling the quivering. His tongue slipped out and licked the digit.
“I’m not angry at you.”
Angel looked up at his Master, who was gazing down at him, a soft smile on his face.
“Get me another drink.”
Angel jumped up and ran to the kitchen, opening cupboards and bottles to obey his Masters orders.
A few moments later, he heard Spike open the door and come up behind him. His Master enveloped Angel in his arms, sliding one hand down his slightly rounded belly to rub gently across his growing erection. Angel leant back into the embrace, drink preparations forgotten, and ground his ass into his Masters crotch.
Spike ran one hand across Angel’s chest, pinching roughly at the hardened nipples and suddenly grabbed roughly at Angel’s cock. Angel winced and started panting, arching up into the pain. His hands moved back to knead at Spike’s ass.
Spike chuckled, rough and deep into Angel’s ear.
“You little whore, you get off on anything.”
Puppy moaned, eyelids flickering with lust at the brutal phrasing, and he turned in his Masters hold, so that they were face to face. He lowered his head and kissed Spike, cautiously for a few moments, before starting to kiss with teeth-grating ferocity. He grabbed at Spike’s shoulders, massaging them roughly.
Spike pulled away and raised an eyebrow at the display of control. Angel kept the gaze for a moment then lowered his eyes.
Spike waited a moment to see if anything would come of the somewhat defiance, and when he decided that nothing would he slapped his pet across the face so hard he was thrown across one of the kitchen counter.
He followed and grabbed Angel by the hair.
“Who do you belong to?”
“You Master, only you.”
He slapped him again. Angel was leaning back against the counter, eyes wide, hand against the reddening from the slaps.
“Who owns you?”
“You Master.”
He grunted in satisfaction and then grabbed Angel around the ribs and picked him up slightly. He then slammed him across the kitchen counter. He landed spread legged with his hips just on the bench top. Angel groaned as his back came into contact with the hard surface. Spike noticed that his Pet had very tented pants at that moment and grinned knowingly at him, tongue flicking out to lick dry lips. Spike grabbed his hair with one hand then using his preternatural strength, backhanded him fiercely across the face.
Angel felt his head rock to one side, cheek burning. He panted.
“You like it rough, you little slut.”
Angel felt his blood boiling, lust building up like water against a barricade, threatening to envelop him.
“Again.”
He said it so softly he couldn’t hear it through the discord in his ears, but Spike must have, as he smiled once more, made a fist and punched him, much harder than before. Then again, causing angry black dots to swarm around Angel’s sight like locusts.
Puppy tasted hot coppery blood in his mouth, and could feel his Master grinding against him, body against body, as the burning smell of blood invaded the air.
Angel coughed as his head swam, and a trickle of blood reddened his lips. His Master paused to lick his Puppy’s lips before flipping him over on the bench.
Angel closed his eyes as his sharp cheekbone rested uncomfortably against the hard bench top, causing the room to spin and sway. He stretched his arms out to steady himself, hooking his hands over the opposite edge.
His hard length pressed harshly against the corner of the bench and he felt Spike spreading his legs on the floor.
Spike ran his hands over his back and fell to his knees between his Puppy’s spread legs, pulling the light sweat pants with him as he descended, causing them to puddle around Angel’s ankles.
Spike carefully lifted each leg out of the pants, and threw them away.
He turned back to his Puppy, and saw the dark haired vampire grinding his extremely prominent erection into the bench top.
Angel felt cold fingers running across the back of his sac, then along to his perineum. The digits pressed gently a few times, causing Angel to gasp into the bench top. The phenomenal pressure disappeared for a moment, before returning feeling slicker then before.
Spike rubbed his spit-slicked fingers up and down the small patch of skin, breathing in his Puppy’s arousal, and impatience, consuming his moments and strain of his muscles as he tried to endure the unyielding pleasure-torment.
Spike moved his hand back down to toy with Angel’s sac as he parted the toned cheeks presented before him. He rubbed his index finger over the entrance before leaning in and laving at the tiny hole with his tongue.
His plaything jumped at the sudden double stimulation and mewled as he tried to get away from the actions and towards them at the same time.
Spike saw Angels hands release the bench top only to reach behind and spread himself further. At this sight, Spike dived at the tight ass and propelled his tongue into the unclenching opening. Angel screamed in shock and desire as his master’s tongue invaded his body. His Master was licking and lapping at his hole, cold fingers roughly massaging his balls and perineum. Angel’s body undulated against the bench top, his pointed hip bones bruising against the hard table as his body pushed his ass higher, trying to get his Master’s tongue as far inside himself as possible.
Suddenly Spike abandoned his hole, scraping his fingernails up Angel’s strong thighs as he stood.
Angel rocked back onto his feet and looked behind, trying to will his Master to return to the delicious torture he had just bestowed on him.
“No, Master, keep going.”
Spike narrowed his eyes and grabbed the back of his Puppy’s neck slamming his face down onto the bench top.
“Did I hear no? Did you give me an order, slut?”
He slammed his head against the table again, this time Angel felt his eyebrow split from the impact. Spike gripped his hair, pulled him back at an unnatural angle to lick at the blood, unaware of the sounds of pain issuing from Angel, and slammed his head against the table once more for good measure.
Angel’s vision started to prickle with pinpoints of colourful light as he felt his Master push him further up on the table, so that his feet were dangling, no longer securely on the floor. His face was only slightly resting on the table now, his eyes over the edge, able to see the blood dripping from his split eyebrow to puddle on the floor.
His erection was painfully hard and completely compressed against the table.
“Sorry Master.”
“Damn straight.”
“Are you ever going to order me again?”
“Never, Master. I belong to you.”
Angel’s feet struggled for a foothold against the smooth bench side as he felt the dull prod of Spike’s erection at his anus. He closed his eyes as he felt his Master grab his hip with one hand while he guided his cock further inside.
Spike moaned into Angel’s ear as his cock slowly entered him. He wrapped one of his hands round Angel’s throat, using his thumb to stroke Angel’s chin, and kept the other wound around Angel’s hipbone.
“More...” he moaned, surprising his Master. Spike slapped his tender ass, making Angel bite his lip and hold his tongue. He may have been gentle at the moment but he hadn’t been given permission to beg.
When he was finally filled Angel, Spike paused to just enjoyed the tight, bracing muscles grasp his length.
Angel groaned, deep and long, as Spike began a harsh rhythm. Angel wriggled underneath as his Master lay hard little kisses all over the wide expanse of his back and shoulders as he sawed in and out of his tender channel. Angel got used to the hard rhythm, and slowly began rocking his weight back onto his Masters cock, wanting to get more and more inside him.
Spike grabbed Angels hips with his hands, and pulled him so that his feet once again touched the ground and so he could get at his cock. He wrapped his hand around the erect length and pumped, as his Puppy growled under him.
“Good, Pet.” Spike soothed as his Puppy’s rocking became frantic.
Angel slowed his movements and his head turned to expose the long expanse of his throat in an innate act of submission. Spike fastened his mouth to the exposed neck, biting down, while he viciously pulled at Angels’ erection in a blur of motion as his own body fucked to possess his Puppy.
Angel felt his body tighten as climax gnawed at his bones. It began in his belly and the warmth spread throughout his frame, licking at his nipples, biting his fingertips until he finally came, collapsing with a scream onto the solid, now slippery table top.
Spike groaned his own orgasm as Angel’s inner muscles convulsed around his cock. He bit harder into the neck below him, and pumped the last of his spend into the limp body beneath him. Sated and numb, he patted the sweaty shoulders, and down the back below him, bending to taste some of the perspiration.
Enjoying the soft stroke of a callused hand down his spine, Angel began a quiet purring, lost in the cobwebbed dimness as the glow of orgasm ebbed from his body, acquiescing as his Master withdrew and pulled him off the table, guiding him down the hall to the bedroom. His Master pushed his sweaty form onto the bed, and layed down, pausing to lick his chin and place a kiss on his lips.
“You’re gorgeous, pet, you know that? You’re really beautiful.”
Angel lay down next to his Master and closed his eyes.
Euphoric.
Spike moved closer, and kissed him again, this time Angel felt his cold tongue seeking entrance to his mouth, duelling slightly with the muscle, licking patterns on Spikes teeth.
“So beautiful,” Spike murmured against his mouth, blue eyes heavy lidded with lust, as his renewed hardness pressed against Angel’s thigh.
Spike climbed on top of Angel’s prone form, licking and kissing his chest, neck, softly nipping his ears. He drew his pet’s legs up and over his shoulders, quickly entering him again.
Angel moaned, still tender from last time, but wanting his Master inside anyway. Spike began a quick rhythm, skin smacking against skin as he buried himself to the hilt, withdrew and buried himself again. Angel squirmed and panted, eyes wide as Spike ghosted over his swollen itching prostate with every thrust.
Spike looked down at him, face strained with pleasure, eyes wide and guileless. He bent and panted into his ear.
“I love you Angel, my pet. You’re never leaving me, you’ll always be mine.”
“Always.”
Angel sighed and leant back onto the bed, hands resting on Spike’s shoulders as the words sank in. He did not care about ‘the dyed-blonde’ any more. She was nothing. His Master thought he was beautiful. His Master loved him.
Spike stiffened and climaxed, stilled for a small eternity and then let Angel’s legs drop to the mattress. He rolled to the side of him, so that his belly was resting against Angel’s hip, and he curled his hand around his pet’s erection and pumped it languidly. He rested his chin on Angel’s shoulder.
Angel closed his eyes, pondered being owned and protected, wanted and loved, while he drifted slowly towards careless completion, surrounded by his Masters arms.