Title: sorry no title yet part 1, suggestions welcome tho

Author/pseudonym: MistressCyberia

Fandom: BtVS/Angel...actually mostly Angel

Pairing: Angel/Isabella (ofc) Angel/Spike

Rating: NC-17

Archive: archive to your heart's content!

E-mail address for feedback:: Amazon9434@aol.com give me feedback please!!!!
i love feedback, good or bad!

Disclaimers: ummm, all characters (except Isabella, she's mine) are property of joss whedon and whoever owns him. this is just my own personal twisted fantasy, so dont sue me! i have an insane sponge for a lawyer!

Notes: all right, here's the 1st part of the story I’m working on....I’ve had to break it up a lot, b/c stupid aol won't send e-mails that are really long. please excuse any misspellings, my spellcheck is broke and I’m a horrible speller ;)

Summary: uhhh...girl comes looking for angel to take a case, but things are more than they seem...

Warnings: hmmm, well, i guess some of the action is a bit non-consensual, so if that stuff offends you, just remember this is pure fantasy, and if it still bothers you, dont read it....but i think you might be missing out ;)

Untitled Angel/Buffy Fic
by MistressCyberia

He was reading up on Doriathys mythology when the door opened and she burst in, breathless, hair in disarray, clutching the collar of her raincoat closed. "Are you Angel?" she asked anxiously.

He studied her carefully before replying. Long, dark curls tumbled wildly around her face, which was flushed and lightly sheened with sweat. Dark and fathomless almond eyes stared at him intensely. They reminded him of his own. She smelled human, but another scent clung to her, and it wasn't the rain-fresh scent of her soap. It was black and tangy, the scent of a demon.

"Yes." he answered cautiously.

Silence stretched between them for a moment, then she began to speak once more, her voice so low he needed his supernatural hearing to understand her. "I need your help."

He sat behind the desk, sprawled comfortably in his chair, and nodded for her to continue.

Her voice grew louder, edged with hysteria. "He's after me, I don't know why, he said something about the mark of Esbitah, but I don't know what that means. I...." She
paused for a moment, and took a deep, trembling breath before continuing. "I don't think he's human."

When he didn't say anything, she asked tremulously, "Will you help me?"

He rose silently gracefully from his chair before responding. "I'll try." He crossed in front of the desk, leaned on it, and looked directly into her dark, fathomless eyes. "But first you have to tell me what happened."

She met his fierce stare and nodded. He offered her the chair across from the desk and she sank gratefully into it.

"Let's start with your name." he said.

"Isabella."

"All right Isabella, now tell me what happened to scare you so much."

She took a deep breath before she began. "I met him at a bar, I don't even remember which one anymore. They all start to look the same after a while, seedy and dirty. Even the people start to look the same, drunken, unwashed, desperate."

She was starting to babble.

He interrupted her. "Tell me who he is."

She looked startled for a moment, then continued. "Like I said, I met him in a bar. He was different from the usual people, clean, for one. Had some style, you know, was really sexy in that devilishly sarcastic way. He bought me a drink, offered me a cigarette, and we got to talking. He had the most adorable accent, couldn't tell if it was British or Australian. . Anyway, we ended up going back to my place," At his raised eyebrow she got defensive. "Hey, I haven't had any for a while, and he had this confident charisma that didn't brook argument. Not that arguing was what I had in mind." she added with a wistful half-smile. "So like I said, we ended up at my place and things were getting really hot, I was down to my underwear and he had his shirt off, oh, he had a great six-pack, was really built," Angel cleared his throat, and she smiled in embarrassment. "Sorry, I guess I do tend to get side-tracked. So things were getting really hot, and then..." she trailed off, a look of raw fear seizing her pretty features. She tried to hide it, but he could sense the fear, smell it. It heated his blood, made him want things he shouldn't.

It made him want her.

To grab her, to seize those hands that still clutched at the neck of that silly raincoat, and pin them behind her, to feel her lush body struggle uselessly against his iron strength, to nuzzle that sweet little juncture of her neck and shoulder, to feel the heat radiating off her skin, to hear the flutter of her heart, to taste that wonderful fear, to taste the warm, rich blood that pumped just under her skin.

She was staring at him strangely. "Is something wrong?" she asked pensively.

He shook himself back into reality. Such fantasies were dangerous to them both. "What happened then?" he prompted.

She took a deep breath. "He...he changed. His face, it..." she faltered for a moment before continuing in a whisper, "He was looking at me like you just were."

He cursed silently. She had noticed, that wasn't good. It was best to get her out of here as fast as possible. She was tempting him far too much.

"How did you escape?" he asked.

"I thought he was going to kill me, I'm pretty sure he was planning on it, but he stopped when he looked down and saw this birthmark on my hip. I've never seen someone so surprised. It was like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on him or something. His face went back to normal, and he just sat there, staring and muttering. I didn't know what he was doing, but I knew I had to get out of there, so I grabbed this paperweight by my bed and clubbed him with it, then grabbed my coat and just ran..." she paused and looked up at him through her wild hair. "That's when I found you."

He thought for a moment before speaking. "You said he was muttering, what was he saying?"

She blinked, then wrinkled her brow in disconsternation. "Something about the Mark of Esbitah, or was it Izbetha, I couldn't hear him that well. I think I heard him mention prophecies and someone named Dru."

He looked at her sharply. "Dru? Are you sure he said Dru?"

She nodded furiously. "Yes, I definitely heard Dru, followed by bitch. Must've been an old girlfriend, huh?" She smiled wryly, trying desperately to make light of the situation.

Angel ignored her. "What was his name?"

She looked confused for a moment. Poor thing had been through a lot, not wonder she was a bit disoriented.

"His name," he repeated, "The guy you went home with, the non-human."

"Oh." she responded hollowly. She sounded as if she were far away. "Of course, how silly of me not to mention it. His name was Spike."

He froze and cursed, out loud this time.

She jerked her head up in surprise. "You know who he is? You can fight him? I'll reward you of
course."

He ignored her frenzied chatter. "Do you have someone to stay with?"

Her laugh was hollow. "No, not a soul. I just came here a few weeks ago, haven't made any friends, my family's still back in New York."

He knew he should check her into a hotel, get her away from himself, but deep down he knew she wouldn't be safe there. Not from Spike. "You can stay here." he heard himself say.

"Here?" She looked around questioningly. "But there's not even a couch to sleep on."

Angel looked confused for a moment. "No, downstairs, with me."

"With you?" Hope brightened her face, and he noticed how very pretty she looked. "You're going to protect me?"

"That's what you're hiring me to do, isn't it?"

She rose as if to hug him, but he stopped her with an outstretched hand. She dropped her arms, her eyes trained on his face, and very sincerely said, "Thank you."

They took the elevator down to his apartment and he led her into his bedroom. "You can sleep here."

She looked around, still a bit dazed. "But...this is your bedroom isn't it?"

"Yes."

A look of understanding dawned in her eyes. "Oh, of course. I just thought you would take money as payment."

"I will." he replied woodenly.

Her face flushed angrily. "Now see here, you get one or the other! I'm grateful for your help, and naturally will give you whichever..."

"I think you misunderstood me. I'm sleeping on the couch."

"Oh." she said, chagrined and flustered. "I don't want to put you out, I'll be fine on the couch." She began to walk towards the door, but was stopped by his outstretched hand.

"It's no inconvenience, you just get settled here. Are you hungry?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm still too shook up to eat." she hesitated before continuing. "Would you mind if I freshened up a bit? I can still feel him all over me, like sludge." she shuddered.

Angel nodded and directed her to the bathroom. "If you need anything else, just tell me."

She nodded, stepped inside the bathroom, and shut the door.

While she showered, he got what he needed out of his room, and began to get ready to leave.

He was strapping on his wrist sheaths when she stepped out of the bathroom, skin damp and warm from the shower. He dark hair curled wildly around her face, and she was clad only a lacy black bodice and matching panties. Her large breasts swelled over the plunging neckline until they looked about ready to fall out.

She noticed him eyeing her, and blushed. "It's all I have. It's what I was wearing when..." she trailed off, then looked down. "I only had time to grab a coat, not any decent clothes." She looked up at him and frowned. "What are you doing?"

He had been in the middle of buckling up the second sheath when she had emerged from the bathroom. He looked down at his wrists, then back up at her. "I'm arming myself."

She smirked impishly. "I'm not that threatening, now, am I?" She leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms just below her ample cleavage.

"I'm going to track down your lover." he replied, his stoic tone belied by his lingering gaze on her breasts. He didn't noticed the worried look that gripped her face, but the panic in her voice brought his gaze back to her face.

"You're not going to leave me here, are you?" She crossed the room to stand in front of him, gazing up at him with her dark piercing eyes. They held a fear and pleading that tugged at his quiet heart.

"You'll be safe here."

She was average height, but he was so tall he had to look down at her to meet her upturned face. Looking down he also caught another eyeful of cleavage.

She laid a hand on his arm, which brought his eyes back to his face. He realized that in all the time since she had emerged from the bathroom, he hadn't once thought of drinking from her. No, his thoughts had taken a far more dangerous turn. He needed to leave before he did something that would mean he wouldn't have a soul left to regret it.

"Please don't leave me alone, Angel." Her voice was quiet and husky.

Her liquid eyes threatened to drown him.

He needed to get out of here, now.

He tried to move away, but her hand gripped his arm with surprising strength for a mortal. "You said you know who he is, then he knows who you are too, right?"

He nodded, desire choking any audible response.

"He might come here looking for you, and if he finds me here, alone..." she trailed off, the silence wrapping around them for an endless moment.

Dammit, she made sense. If Spike was in town, he had come for a reason, one that probably involved Angel.

He sighed and moved away from her, then began to remove the wrist sheaths.

"You're staying then?" she said hopefully.

"Yes." he replied. "You're right, he's very likely to come here."

She released a breath he hadn't realized she was holding. The movement drew his eyes to her breasts again. She had really nice breasts.

"Why don't you go put on one of my shirts?" he suggested, a note of irritation in his voice.

She smiled beguilingly. "You don't like the view?"

He liked it too much.

"No." he said.

"You're a bad liar." She moved in front of him again, and placed her warm hand on his chest.

He closed his own hand over hers to remove it, but it lingered there, his fingers caressing the pulse in her wrist. He could smell the heat and desire radiating from her, he could smell the blood that swirled through veins. He watched as he lifted her hand from his chest up to his face. He nuzzled her wrist against his cheek, feeling the flutter of her pulse. He slid his lips over that pulse, pressed his tongue into the delicate flesh, let it trace the blue veins. Hunger ripped at his mind, causing his whole body to ache with need. It had been so long, just a taste wouldn't hurt.

His eyes flew open at the thought, and he dropped her wrist, turning his startled face to hers. He was unprepared for the hands that snaked around his neck and drew his head down to her warm, soft lips.

His jaw went slack with surprise, and her moist, velvet tongue traced his lips before slipping inside and running along his bottom row of teeth and nibbling on his lower lip.

Hunger thrummed through him. Her tongue arched inside his mouth and began to glide along the top row of his teeth. He heard her moan, felt her push her body closer to his, and hot, salty blood trickle into his mouth.

He had almost forgotten what it tasted like.

His own tongue twisted to lap hungrily at it, rubbing against her tongue, plunging into her mouth like a ravenous beast.

But he wasn't a beast. He pulled back from her. Her eyes were still closed, her lips parted, waiting, blood staining the inner tissue of her lips. He turned around quickly, trying to gain control, willing his face back to its human dimensions.

"Angel?" her voice was soft and husky. It pierced through him like a stake.

He went absolutely still as she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lush figure against his back, resting her cheek between his shoulder blades.

"What's wrong?" she quested. "Don't you want me?"

When he had control of himself again, he turned around and gripped her shoulders, looking down into her face. Her eyes were wide and vulnerable, and they bathed him in smoldering warmth.

He swallowed convulsively before replying. "It doesn't matter if I want you, Isabella"

She snuggled herself into his chest. "Of course it does." Her voice became brittle. "Just hold me Angel, please. Keep me safe from him."

He sighed and led her to the sofa, where they sank down into the cool fabric. He cradled her against his chest and stroked her silky, wild hair. Her hand splayed against his chest, fingers playing idly with the buttons of his shirt.

After a few minutes of just sitting silently, she inquired, "Angel, what's the mark of Esbitah?"

"I don't know." he answered.

She sat up and faced him. The hand that had been stroking her hair slid down her back and rested on her tailbone.

"But you said you did." She peered at him anxiously. "You said you knew who he was and how to fight him."

"I do know who he is. I don't, however, know what the mark of Esbitah is or why he's interested in it." Much to his surprise, his fingers had begun to trace the elastic lace band of her panties. Even more surprising was that he didn't stop them. He needed to divert his thoughts from going the way of his fingers. "You said he mentioned the mark after he saw a birthmark on your hip."

She nodded.

"Well, that must be what it is then. Do you think you could draw it for me, and I could start researching it, see why Spike is so interested."

She shook her head, and her hair rippled behind her. "There's not much to draw. It's just a freckle."

"Well there has to be something to it if its the mark of Esbitah."

The corner of her mouth smiled at him. "Well, does it feel any different than other freckles?"

He wrinkled his brow in confusion before he realized his fingers had dipped inside the black satin and were now caressing the smooth flesh of her hip.

"Oh." he flustered, and began to slide his hand out, but she grabbed his arm.

"Don't." Her full, pink lips smiled bewitchingly at him, and she shifted position so she was straddling him. He realized her idly wandering hands had already undone the first two buttons of his shirt. She now undid the rest and smoothed her hands against the hard muscles of his chest, then leaned against him and captured his mouth in a searing kiss.

Desire spiraled through his limbs and coiled tight in his groin. Her mouth still tasted of blood, and his tongue swirled against the inner tissues of her mouth, siphoning the coppery flavor off her tongue. His hands slid up her back, over the prickly lace of her bodice, and tangled themselves in her curly mass of hair. She pushed her body up against his, her heated torso pressed flat against his bared chest. Her hips rubbed seductively against the knot of desire between his thighs. He heard her throaty groan inside his mouth, and smelled the arousal that perfumed her flesh. It wrapped sensual fingers inside his head, fogging his brain. He knew something was wrong, but couldn't remember precisely what. The scent of his soap clung to her hot skin, creating a sense of intimacy that overwhelmed his senses.

She broke away suddenly, and he could only stare, confused, as she climbed off him and began to walk back into his bedroom, her hips swaying slightly as she disappeared into the doorway. He extricated himself from the sofa and ambled after her, still drugged with desire.

When he entered the room, he was surprised to see her, not draped seductively on the bed as he'd expected, but perched on the edge of it, zipping up the boots she had been wearing when she arrived. They were knee high with three inch heels, made of black leather that hugged her ankles and calves. Her hand clutched her raincoat, sprawled beside her on the bed.

"You can't leave." he stated.

Her head jerked up in surprise. She obviously hadn't heard him come in.

"Spike will find you anywhere you go," he continued, moving to stand in front of her. "And when he does, I won't be there to protect you."

She gazed up at him, her hand clutching her coat tighter, dragging it towards her an inch. "You've done a wonderful job of protecting me." She stood up.

Even in high heels, the top of her head only reached his nose. She looked up at him with her dark, luminous eyes, and reason was once again buried by smoldering desire. His hand snaked around the back of her neck, and tilted her head back as he lowered his, closing his eyes, intent on capturing her soft, warm lips in another delicious kiss.

He wasn't prepared for the hard, stinging slap that jerked his head to the side and left his cheek feeling as if it had been touched by a live wire.

The surprise of the impact shattered his control and his face instantly reverted to its demonic dimensions. He whipped his head back to face her, but she wasn't there. He heard a sharp intake of breath behind him, but before he could turn around, she delivered a swift, brutal kick just above the back of his knee which forced him to the ground. Something cool and heavy slid around his neck and he heard a soft click as it settled around his throat like an obscene necklace. Isabella took advantage of his momentary surprise and seized his hands, twisting them around behind them and securing them into heavy shackles, then, just as quickly, clasped his ankles into a similar set of shackles. The collar and both sets of shackles were connected by a chain that ran down his back and through loops in each restraint. It wasn't very long, and it forced him to tilt his head back and thrust his chest out. He realized he was now looking up at her. He also realized the chains were far too heavy and thick for him to break. And then came the final, terrible, realization: he was completely at her mercy.

As if sensing his train of thought, a slow, wicked smile spread across Isabella's full lips. "You were far more easy a conquest than I expected, but I suppose under all that big, tough demon, you're still a man." She nudged his crotch with the toe of her boot. "And you still think like one as well."

"Why are you doing this?" he croaked.

"To make sure you don't bite, unless, of course, I want you to." She traced his fangs with her fingertip. "Mmm, sharp." She pulled a dagger from her coat still sprawled in a heap on the bed, and held it in front of his face, grinning dangerously. "Sharper." She touched the tip to the center of his forehead and let is trail down over his nose, top lip, bottom lip, chin. She continued to drag the dagger in a path down his shoulder and arm, but stopped when she reached his wrist. She fingered his sleeve. "Such a nice shirt. Such a pity."

He held his breath, bracing himself for the sharp cut. He let it out in a whoosh of surprise as he heard fabric ripping, and felt the cool air of the room touch the skin of his forearm. She continued slicing up to his collar, and then began on the other side. When she was finished, the shirt slid off him with a soft whisper and settled in a pool of black silk around his knees. She touched his bare shoulder, and traced the muscles in his back, summering, "Much better."

"What do you want?" he asked again, his face schooled back to normal.

"Right now, for you to be silent. Don't make me mar that pretty mouth of yours with a gag."

When he didn't say anything more, she went to work pulling off his boots and socks, and cutting away the rest of his clothing. When she finished he was naked, kneeling and in chains before her. She eyed him appreciatively, walking in a slow circle around him, her boots making a soft clicking noise as she appraised him from every angle. After a complete round, she stood before him again, gazing down at him. With a flush of embarrassment, he realized he was still half-aroused, and she seemed to realize it as well.

She made a soft tsking noise. "This will never do." She walked back to the bed and retrieved something else from her coat. He wondered just how many things she had in there.

A rich, earthy scent filled his nostrils and snaked down his spine, tickling something deep in his belly. He realized she pouring some sort of oil into her palms. She set the bottle on the table next to his bed and rubbed her hands over each other slowly, coating them with an exotic perfumed slickness.

The heady scent consumed his senses, made him want more, made him want her.

He felt himself harden a bit more.

Isabella noticed, and smiled slowly as she walked back toward him.

"It's a potent aphrodisiac." she explained, referring to the oil. "Your heightened sense of smell only makes you more susceptible to it."

"So you need a drug to get me turned on, Isabella? Your seductive powers must not be as effective as you'd like."

She stopped, and her smile disappeared. He grinned, congratulating himself on finding her weak spot. She quickly wiped that grin off his face with another stinging slap, the oil smearing across his cheek. "You are to address me as Mistress Isabella, and only when I permit you to speak. One more outburst and I will gag you. You've only been given this much leeway because of your lack of experience." She smiled again, her head tilting at a sinister angle as she stared down at him. "But we shall soon remedy that." She set to work rubbing the oil into the hard muscles of his chest, circling and pinching his nipples. He groaned in spite of himself, and his cock grew stiffer. He flushed with embarrassment again, and she laughed throatily, sliding her hand down the rippled muscles of his stomach, tracing the dark line of hair from his navel to the dark thatch it plunged into, then across his mostly aroused member. He groaned louder, and to his supreme
embarrassment thrust his hips toward her slick hand.

"Very good." she said, and began to stroke his dick, enclosing her hand around it, digging her palm against the tip. He moaned deeply, and was fully aroused with only a few strokes. She straightened and began to walk toward the bed, and he whimpered before he was able to bite his lip against it. She gave him a beguiling smile over her shoulder. "Patience, my pet."

When she turned back to him she held a complicated looking thing, made up of rings, clamps, and a leather strap. "This room is hardly suitable for our needs." she told him as she glided back towards him, and gave his hard cock a warm caress. "We'll need to move out into the living room." Her hand dropped down to massage his balls, "Unfortunately, I have a feeling that I can't quite trust you to be a obedient slave yet," She gave his balls a hard pinch. He jumped with the shock of pain and the unexpected shock of pleasure, "So I'll just have to take extra steps to ensure your participation."

She affixed the clamps to his nipples. They bit into the sensitive flesh with tiny teeth, and he had to bite back a groan at the dark pleasure it caused him. A small chain connected the two clamps across his chest, and two longer chains hung from the center of that it, one ending in a leather loop, and the other, he soon found out as Isabella strapped it around the root of his cock and secured it, connected to a cock ring. She picked up the last chain, and winding her fingers around the leather loop, gave it a firm tug.

Angel leapt forward, pulled by the ring around his cock and the tiny teeth biting into his nipples. Jolts of electric sensation stabbed his belly, and he couldn't quite distinguish the pain from the pleasure anymore. It was getting harder and harder to keep silent.

She gave another, harder tug on the chain, and he was forced to shuffle forward awkwardly on his knees.

She smiled and ruffled his hair, her face hovering close to his, her breath warm against his flesh. "Very good, my pet." she mummered huskily, and he felt himself responding to the praise, to her nearness, her touch.

She straightened and turned around, holding the chain over her shoulder, keeping just enough tension on it so he had to strain forward. Then she began to walk.

Fire raced from his nipples low into his abdomen, as he was jerked forward awkwardly, fighting to keep from falling on his face.

She kept walking.

He had no choice but to shuffle after her on his knees, fighting for balance, feeling the crash of electric sensation throughout his body. He tried not to focus on the incredible feelings ravishing his body, so he looked instead at her. Big mistake.

Her black leather boots hugged the curves of her calves, her smooth, firm thighs, pumped back and forth with each step she took. Her ass was round and hard, her panties riding up teasingly. Her waist tapered in, an hourglass figure.

The rest was obscured by the waterfall of her chestnut hair, that rippled with a life of its own, shining even in the dimness of his apartment.

She walked into the living room, with him shuffling awkwardly behind the whole time. They came to a stop before the couch, and she turned around to look at him, still keeping tension in the chain.

He stared at her face, an exotic angel, not looking the least bit cruel or harsh.

Her full lips curved in that delicious smile she always got when she looked at him. "So very beautiful." she whispered, and pressed her fingers against his cheek. The tension in the chain eased, the raging heat it had caused began to cool, and he relaxed a notch and enjoyed gazing up at her and the ample cleavage that spilled from her bodice. He noticed briefly that his erection hadn't lessened a bit in the excruciatingly long tread into the living room.

She slapped him.

He blinked up at her in surprise, wondering what he possibly could have done to earn her contempt.

He didn't need to say a word, for she quickly explained, in a brisk tone, "I do enjoy looking at you, but you shouldn't take such liberties with your Mistress. Keep your eyes demurely lowered at all times unless I instruct you otherwise."

She extended her foot towards him, and it took him a moment to realize she meant him to kiss it. Anger washed away the memory of the intense sensations he had experienced just a few moments ago.

He lifted his chin impudently. "Just what sort of sick game are you playing?"

He was rewarded with another hard slap. "That little outburst will cost you."

She draped the chain across his shoulder and crossed behind him. He heard a soft clink, and the tension pulling back his head and shoulders was released as the chain connecting the collar and shackles slinked onto the floor.

He rolled his shoulders forward, and stretched his neck the best he could. He needed to start thinking of a way to get out of here. Now that she unchained him a bit he could stand up... dammit, she was stroking him again, and it was making it very hard to think of anything else.

"I feel your attention is not fully on me." she said. "Perhaps you're thinking of escape?" She smiled again, and began to fiddle with the ring binding his cock. "Or maybe you're thinking of hurting me. I would enjoy that, but it's not what I'm here for. I'm here for your enjoyment."

"Then you're failing miserably." he spat.

"Ah, but your body tells me otherwise."

It was true. The craving in him was growing, and for once, it wasn't a craving for blood.

"You're impudence is quite charming, so I won't gag you. No, I'll enjoy hearing you cry out." She tipped her finger under his chin.

"In pain or pleasure?" he asked.

"Does it matter?"

That answer made him shiver. He hadn't shivered in a long time.

She gave him a light kiss on the forehead. "You can stand up if you'll kiss my shoe."

He looked at her foot for a moment, then glided upright, and looked down at her. "I can stand up on my own."

She slapped his cock this time, and red bolts of pain danced inside his eyelids. He wavered a bit, but remained standing.

"Ah, there's the fight I was expecting. Oh, you do make this very exciting you know." She licked her lips as she gazed at him, like she was looking at a succulent treat, as she drew the dagger out of her bodice. "This will hurt you a lot more than it hurts me, but then again, that's the whole point, isn't it?"

She quickly sliced the three sets of tendons in both arms that allowed him to move his joints. Burning pain and blood ran across his arms as she unchained his wrist, now useless, and brought his arms around to the front, and stepping up on the sofa, slung the chain of the shackles around a beam overhead, and strapped his other hand into it.

His wounds had already begun to heal, but he was helpless again, his arms stretched above him, body practically dangling from the overhead beam, so only his toes gripped the floor.

"I think this can come off now, however appealing it might look on you." she commented as she unhooked the heavy iron collar around his neck. She set it on the sofa and looked back, appraising him. "Very nice." she murmured.

Then she strolled into the kitchen, boots clicking away on the floor.

Finally he had a moment to himself to think. Somebody had sent her, somebody who knew all about him and had told her. Despite her earlier act at being disgusted by vampires, she hadn't seemed the least bit fazed by his lack of a heartbeat, or the transformation of his face. In fact, she had known exactly how to manipulate him and make sure he didn't escape. She had made his superior strength and size useless. She had make him her slave, just like she said.

He tested his chains by tugging on them again, the cuts in his arms faded to a pink scar now. Just as he expected, neither the heavy chains or the beam gave a bit. His only way to escape would be if she let him, and obviously she wouldn't until she got whatever it was she was after.

He tried to think what that might be, but couldn't come up with anything. So instead he tried to think who might've put her up to it. He had a lot of enemies, but without a clear motive, he was lost.

She walked back into the room, and he tried to act indifferent, but his dick stiffened of its own accord. She noticed and grinned. She now had a chain slung low on her hips, with a variety of whips and paddles attached to it.

In her hands she held a damp cloth. When she reached him, she began to wipe down his arms.

"You looked so very pretty with fresh blood streaming down your body, but when it dries it just gets nasty. And not the good kind of nasty either." She grinned again, and fingered the fading scars on his arm. "Very good. Torturing a vampire gives you so much freedom, no permanent damage."

As she rubbed his arms, her body brushed against his, the various leather equipment that hung from her belt teasing his cock. Briefly he wondered where the belt had come from...someone must have put it there...

But his thoughts were soon back on her, as she finished wiping his arms, and gave the now almost invisible scars a quick kiss. That brief, warm caress of her lips made him groan.

She sighed. "So very sweet. But I haven't forgotten you're earlier transgression." She looked down at her belt for a moment, then chose a black leather flogger. Its many tails swished dangerously as she crossed around behind him.

He knew what she would do. He had lived two and half centuries, after all. He knew all about these sort of people, people who liked pain, who got a sexual high off it. Before he had gotten his soul back, he even felt them to be kindred spirits, and had held a certain respect for them. But despite all his knowledge, the first blow still came as a surprise.

The loud smack resounded on his ass and fingers of crackling fire spread across his flesh. He let out an involuntary groan, but it was cut short by another smack to his ass, this one produced only a quick gasp from him. By the fifth or sixth smack, his ass began to tingle with electric pain, and he was fighting to bite back the groans.

She chose then to start spreading out the blows, hitting his shoulders, back, thighs. She even hit the tender crevasses on the backs of his knees and the underside of his ass.

The pain spread out with the blows, and soon his whole backside was smarting under the assault. She kept an uneven rhythm, so each blow caught him by surprise, and it became nearly impossible to bite back his moans.

He felt himself falling in the pit of his belly, felt dark hands shroud him as the fiery ache consumed his flesh. Each blow lit colorful lights beneath his eyelids, and those lights slowly swallowed him before they too drained away into the darkness. He began to feel a kind of release then, and a calm flowed through him, mirroring the pain, accepting it and releasing it, letting it twine around itself and slide through his veins. He hadn't felt such a sense of completeness, of calm, since Buffy...

"No!"

His eyelids flew open as the first cramp seized his middle. He tried to scrunch himself against it, but was too stretched out by the chains. It ate its way up his chest, mingled with and devoured the heat in his backside, leaving him suddenly chilled.

She had stopped the whipping and was now caressing his trotted flesh, massaging the stripes she had made. Her fingers seemed to push the coldness into his spine and encase his heart. He cried out against it, but it froze his throat. He tried to swallow it but it snaked up into his mouth and spread across his face. It wrapped around his eyeballs, and poked icy fingers into his brain. He couldn't feel his body anymore and everything began to grow dark...

She had stepped back and watched him change. It was indeed interesting to see a soul leave a body unwillingly, looked very painful. Quite a tantalizing sight indeed.

Finally he raised his head to look at her, and oh man, did he look. His stare devoured every inch of her, sank intangible teeth into her flesh and raked them across her body.

He spoke then, his voice different now, not so strained. "Now that something new! Can't say I've ever experienced anything quite like it in two and a half centuries." He winked at her, devilishly charming. "I admire your methods indeed. Well, you've done what you set out to do, so could you unchain me now?" He gave her another hungry glance.

Devilish, indeed. She needed to remember that. He would kill her if he got loose now.

She smiled at him, and began a slow stride towards him. "Now who said I was finished with you. That was only your punishment." She let her finger trace his jawline, and he bit playfully at it. "If that was punishment, I'd love to see your rewards."

She let her finger glide down his throat and onto his chest, circling his left nipple, taking it between her fingers, and giving it a hard twist. He sucked in his breath quickly, and his head lolled backwards.

"You ain't seen nothing yet." she murmured. Her hand dropped down to his now only-half erect member and began to stroke it lightly, bringing it back to life.

He groaned and grinned. "Have mercy."

This new Angel was much too tantalizing. She had to remember what she was here for.

She gave his cock a vicious yank. He yelped and glared at her murderously.

"Just because you lost your soul and you're a big bad-ass now, Angel,"

"Angelus." he corrected.

She gave him another hard yank.

"Do not correct me. I am still you're mistress. And if I say you're name is Captain Kangaroo, you just nod and say, 'Yes, Mistress.' For the time being you are anything I want you to be, and right now you are my slave."

"For the time being?" he asked pointedly. She was silent, waiting, her hand squeezing his cock a bit tighter. "Mistress?" he added hastily, with another indulgent grin.

Her grip loosened and she smiled. "Now you're starting to get it my pet. But remember," she gave his cock a hard slap that made him wince, "Never question your Mistress."

He grinned and nodded. She studied him carefully. He was being much too obedient. He had to be planning something. She made a mental note to proceed carefully.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Well, are you just gonna stand there and look pretty?"

She fingered the riding crop on her hip absentmindedly. "So you find me pretty, do you?"

"Darling, you're positively scrumptious."

She tugged the riding crop off her hip and in one smooth motion, slapped him across his belly with it. "Flattery will get you nowhere with me. What is it that you want?"

He began to speak, but she quickly cut him off with another whack across the stomach. "And there will be no snacking."

His face fell in mock despair. "Ah, Mistress, thou doth torment me!"

"It's my job." She smacked the front of his thighs a few times before replacing the riding crop on her hip. Her hand dislodged a coil of leather, and she crossed around behind him, pausing for a moment to inspect his buttocks. "So smooth, so flawless." she murmured, running her hand across the unmarked flesh. She smacked it hard with her open hand. "Needs some color though." she remarked. She then set to work winding the leather cord around his elbows, drawing the joints together until they touched.

Angelus shifted about. "That's rather uncomfortable."

She patted his straining bicep. "That's the point."

She set to work on his knees then, tying them in a similar manner.

"You know, this makes it very hard to stand." he pointed out.

She stood up and retrieved her riding crop, giving his balls a short, sharp, slap. He gasped loudly.

"And here I thought we were beginning to understand each other. You're not here to be comfortable. You're here to do as I say." She ran the tip of the riding crop along the underside of his shaft before delivering another short, hard, slap to the head. He cried out before he could bite it back.

"Do we understand each other now?"

He nodded.

She hit the head of his dick with the riding crop again. He made a strangled sound in the back of his throat.

"Do we understand each other?" she asked again, riding crop poised for another blow.

"Yes, Mistress."

"And you'll obey me unquestioningly?"

"Yes, Mistress."

That surprised her. She had expected more fight. True, she had been informed he was a trickster, but such beautiful submission was hard to fake for someone as proud as Angelus. It turned her on. Having him bound and helpless before her, having a vampire powerful enough to kill her with barely a thought willing to serve her every whim drugged her with desire. She placed the riding crop back at her hip and ran her hands down her breasts.

Heat surged through her as she fingered her hardened nipples through the fabric of her bodice.

Angelus' eyes watched her every movement, and she saw his lips part with desire. A bead of moisture formed at the tip of his cock.

"You're being so very good I believe I shall have to reward you." Isabella reached inside her bodice and lightly fondled herself before removing the key to the shackles. She was extremely aroused. The scent of the oil she had rubbed on him earlier suddenly seemed stronger, rubbing itself against her brain.

She stepped up on the sofa and released the lock to the shackles at his wrists. He promptly collapsed onto the ground. She quickly stepped down from the sofa and rechained his hands before his sense of balance came back.

He struggled to his knees and remained there, head bowed demurely.

Isabella was impressed. She knew he could have easily stood up, or at very least, glared defiantly at her.

He was hers now.

"So well behaved." she murmured huskily as she began to tug at the waistband of her satiny panties. She slid them down her thighs and let them fall across her leather-encased calves before stepping out of them. She ran her hand across her mound and between her legs. She held her moisture-drenched fingers to his lips.

His tongue darted out to taste them before drawing her entire finger into his mouth and beginning to suck it.

She drew her finger out and traced his jaw, drawing his face up to look at her.

"Such obedience is rewarded." Her hand slipped behind his head and guided his face to her crotch.

His cool features pressed against her damp, curling hair, and his warm, wet tongue slid along her cunt.

She exhaled forcefully as riotous sensation exploded within her. She had to lean against the sofa to remain standing upright.

He pressed a soft kiss above her clitoris, then drew the small flap of skin covering it into his mouth, suckling gently, lips brushing against her naked bud.

A high-pitched moan forced itself past the desire choking her. His tongue briefly wrapped itself around her clit before sliding off and dipping into her flooded opening.

Groaning, her hands slid through his hair and pressed his head deeper into her.

Her hips undulating against his face. She was now perched on the arm of the sofa, her body thrumming with black velvet heat, when she felt sharp sting on the lips of her cunt. She gasped as it spread dull, aching fingers across her crotch, making her nerves endings warm and liquidy. She began to feel heavy, his mouth working against her sending waves of sensation rippling through her body which suddenly felt weightless. There was warm liquid running through her flesh and she was floating on a dark golden tide of pleasure that drizzled across her heated skin like honey. Her limbs were drifting away, no longer connected to her body, and she was falling into a starry black mouth that waited to devour her...

**

He entered the living room just in time to see Isabella falling back onto the couch, and Angel's head rising from between her legs, his mouth smeared with blood and come.

'Now, I tell her to chain you up, knock you around a bit, have some fun, but whatever you do, don't let him suck your bloody pussy. And what does she go and do? Good help is so hard to find."

Angel's head snapped up. "Spike. So you arranged this whole thing. I shouldn't be surprised."

"What, she didn't mention me? How forgetful of her." Spike strode towards them and slipped off his black leather jacket, tossing it on the back of the sofa.

He slipped his hand beneath Isabella's unconscious form and propped her up.

"Let's have a look at you. Make sure your bloody forgetfulness didn't do any permanent
damage."

Her eyes fluttered as he spoke and she moaned softly.

"That's a good girl." he murmured. "Come on back to us."

"Why Spike, one might actually think you cared about the slut." Angel snickered.

"Well, as you've plainly seen, she's no ordinary slut. Takes bloody talent to interest a couple century-old vampire, you know." Assured that Isabella would soon wake up, he turned to look at Angel. "Well, Angelus old chap, despite letting you indulge in an all-you-can-eat-her-out buffet, did she do her bloody job? You still got that pesky soul?"

"Now, why would you arrange for me to lose my soul again? Not that I'm not grateful, having a soul is annoying as hell, and trust me, I've been there, but what good, or bad, motivation could you possibly have?" Angleus queried.

"It's quite simple really. The only reason I helped the bumbling Buffy gang get your soul back in the first place was because you were moving in on my Dru. But, she left me anyway, and the bumbling Buffy gang is boring as bloody hell, although can't say I've been there, eh?" he winked at Angelus before continuing, "And frankly, I wanted something to do. You were always fun when you weren't trying to steal my girlfriend, so I figured I come down to L.A. and kick around a bit with you. But you still had that bloody soul that stopped you from doing anything fun, so I had to get rid of that first. Hence, Isabella here."

"How did you know she could do it?"

"Well, I figured your whole soul deal was a search for redemption, and you were doing penance, craving some sort of punishment for all the people you slaughtered so wonderfully. Isabella here is an expert in punishment, and I figured she could give you exactly what your soul wanted, throw in a bit of carnal pleasure to help your happiness along, and poof! Bye-bye boring Angel."

"You're certainly smarter than you act."

Spike smirked. "I try."

"Do you think you could untie me now that you've had your fun?"

Spike made a tsking sound. "Now, now Angelus. The fun is just beginning." He stroked Angel's still erect cock with the tip of his boot. "Remember the good times you and me and Dru used to have? Those wild nights when we'd drunk too much blood?"

Angel jerked back from Spike's probing boot. "She's not Drusilla. She's mortal and I'm not in the mood for handling fragile things. I tend to smash fragile things. They make pretty sounds when they crack. Drusilla always made the most interesting noises when I was driving her insane."

"You said yourself, Isabella's not Dru. Don't underestimate her just because she's mortal. I did, and that's how she got me in chains for the first time. Quite an experience that." He grinned at her stirring form. "Yeah, she's a tough cookie, but I got her trained."

"Look if you don't want to kill her, I will. Just untie me."

"I don't want all my training to go to waste just because you've got a bloody case of the munchies. We'll kill her, but we'll play first."

"It's hard to play if the toy in unconscious." Angel pointed out.

"She'll come around, just give her a few minutes. Anyway, she wouldn't be unconscious if you hadn't pigged out on her bloody cunt."

Angel shrugged. "I was hungry, and she's cute."

Spike slapped him soundly across the face.

Angel worked his jaw around. "Now what was that for? Surely I didn't offend your delicate sensibilities."

Spike shrugged. "Nah, I was just bored and you were there." He began to absentmindedly stroke Angel's cock. "I'm surprised she got you to submit at all. Didn't figure you for a bitch, Angelus."

"Like you said, she's talented, and hunger and horniness can drive even a vamp such as myself to do strange things."

Spike leaned in close to Angel's face. "Tell me, Angelus," he whispered, "How hungry and horny are you now? 'Cause I'm bloody starving." His tongue snaked out, teasing the cartilage of Angel's ear, tracing his jaw down to his mouth, leaving a cool, wet, path in its wake. His mouth hovered just above Angel's lips, "On both counts."

Spike captured his mouth in a searing kiss. His fangs sharpened and made a series of tiny cuts inside Angel's mouth. His lips twisted against Angel's, sampling the hot, magic taste of his sire.

Spike broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Angel's. "Ah, Angelus." he murmured. "I had forgotten what you tasted like. Welcome back, old chap." he grinned and pulled away, sparing Angel a devilish wink before delivering him another vicious slap. "Now let's have some fun."

He unbuttoned his shirt and let it slide onto the floor. Kneeling in front of Angel, he lowered his head and teasingly licked his left nipple before his mouth covered it and his fangs sank into the tough flesh.

Angel gasped and arched against him. Spike's tongue dashed out to catch the few droplets of blood that missed his mouth. He then moved to the right nipple, similarly marking it. He looked up at Angel's face, twisted with passion, grinned, then knelt further down to run his teeth along Angel's engorged shaft before taking it in his mouth and sucking it, moving his head back and forth, running his tongue up and down the shaft.

The movement of Angel's hips was barely perceptible at first, but soon grew into violent thrusts in and out of Spike's mouth. The tension that had building in him all night grew to unmanageable proportions, pulling all his tissues into a tight ball before it exploded in a storm of come inside Spike's mouth.

It ripped a harsh cry from Angel as he sank onto the floor, spent.

Spike stood up, licking his lips. "Must've been a long time since you got any, huh, mate?" he patted Angel on the shoulder, but turned around when he heard a low moan from the couch. "Sleeping beauty must be awake at last."

Angel lay on the ground, drained, and watched as Spike strode over to Isabella and hovered motionless above her. She stirred and then stretched languorously, causing her breasts to strain against her bodice. He felt his cock stirring and was surprised.

Spike was right; it had been a long time.

Isabella's eyes fluttered open.

"So, you finally decided to join the party." Spike's sarcastic tone invaded the silence.

Isabella reached out a hand to touch his face, but he caught it and brought her palm to his mouth for a brief kiss and a playful nip before lowering his face to hers for a deeper kiss. His hand cupped her breast and slid down her waist to rest on her hip, where he drew her dagger out of its sheath.

"Now pet, this bit of lace will never do." He trailed the tip of the dagger across her belly, stopping just below her navel, and then drew it up, slicing open the laces of her bodice. Her breasts spilled out as he removed the filmy fabric from her torso. "Much better." he murmured as his head descended to place a kiss on top of her heart. His hand slid up her thigh and between her legs.

She gasped, and Angel realized how extremely tender that bit of flesh must be.

Spike settled himself on the cushion next to her and patted his knee.

Isabella climbed into his lap and nipped, automatically, it seemed, at his ear.

"Feeling better love?" he asked.

She nodded hesitantly and rested her hand on the straining bulge in his pants. He began to fondle her breasts and stomach, and she sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, gently stroking his erection through his pants. She noticed Angel lying on the floor, watching them avidly. Her smile was tiny, but suggestive nonetheless, and meant solely for him.

His dick became a bit stiffer.

Spike noticed the direction of her gaze and pinched her nipple hard, bringing her attention back to him. "Your breasts are so naked, love, I think they need some accesorizing." He pulled a set of nipple clamps from her belt and gazed at her intensely. "On your knees you little bitch, hands behind your head." he commanded with a playful grin.

She knelt obediently before him and clasped her hands behind her neck.

Spike tossed his satisfied smile at Angel. "Told you I got her trained."

A strange feeling surged through Angel as he watched Isabella kneel before Spike.

She was his Mistress, yet Spike was her Master.

So what did that make him exactly, lying bound and helpless on the floor, just watching?

Spike affixed the clamps to Isabella's nipples, and she stiffened and moaned.

Angel remembered how they felt, biting into such sensitive skin, sending jolts of sensation through his torso, charging every nerve ending with a tingling awareness.

And at that moment, he missed such sensation, such attention.

That surprised him as well.

Spike laid his hand on top of her head, his fingers digging into her scalp. She quickly bent over and placed a light kiss on his boots.

So that was how it was done.

Spike's grip eased and he began to stroke her hair.

Her gaze wandered again to Angel, who lay staring at the whole scene, and she gifted him with another sensual smile. It made Angel tingle all over, and suddenly he felt the chains and leather biting into his flesh anew, making him feel restricted and helpless all over again.

He squirmed a bit and Isabella's smile grew into a grin, which made Spike take notice. The hand stroking her hair stilled, then abruptly tightened, yanking a handful up, forcing Isabella's gaze back to his suddenly stormy expression.

"So my little bitch, you like looking at Angelus more than me? Perhaps you'd like to look at him a bit more?" He dragged her by the hair over to Angel's prone form and threw her to ground. He unhooked the belt from her waist and plucked another pair of shackles and clamps from it before tossing it onto the sofa, where it landed with a muted clink. She was left with only her tall leather boots hugging her calves as he twisted her arms behind her and shackled her wrists, then grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her head back again.

She stared up at him, wide-eyed, chest heaving with a mixture of fear and desire at his sudden rage. Spike let his other hand roughly stroke her cheek and trail down her face to her neck. He fingered the pulse that throbbed haphazardly there, then slid his hand down the front of her chest and caught the delicate chain that connected her nipple clamps. He let it slide through his fingers, bringing his hand up to touch the tip of her left nipple.

He began to play with the clamp, and she gasped and bit her lip as he gently twisted and tugged at it.

Then he abruptly yanked it off, and Isabella barely muffled a scream.

Angel started when Spike's gaze fell directly on him. With a malicious grin, Spike reached down and hauled Angel onto his knees, giving him a sound slap before attaching the Isabella's dangling clamp to Angel's left nipple.

Angel's shifted and his cock grew fully erect under the rush of sensations - the pain, the pleasure, the attention. Isabella knelt before him, her pretty features obscured by her tumble of hair. Her breasts quivered, and as he watched them, Spike's hand swooped down to attach another clamp to her left nipple, drawing the clamp at the opposite end back to Angel's chest and affixing it to his other nipple.

Now, if either of them made a move, the other felt it.

Isabella raised her head to look at him, and he was surprised by the tear tracks on her face. He had figured her much too proud to let Spike make her cry. He was tempted to say something flippant about the irony of the whole situation, but before he could open his mouth, Spike was there again, attaching small weights to the chains that stretched between their chests.

The weights dragged the chains down, causing a constant tug on their flesh.

Isabella closed her eyes and groaned despairingly.

The sound stirred something inside Angel, some deep-seated desire. A bead of moisture formed at the tip of his cock.

Spike noticed Isabella's closed eyes. "What's the matter, pet? I thought you liked looking at Angelus? Changed your mind so soon? Perhaps he doesn't look as good close up?"

Isabella just squeezed her eyes tighter shut and shook her head. Angel noticed tears beginning to squeeze out the corners.

"Open your eyes and look at him!" Spike demanded, grabbing a paddle off of her discarded belt and giving her ass a hard slap with it. She whimpered and pried her eyes open. They were watery and red, glassy with suffering.

Spike walked over and grabbed Angel's head, shoving him onto his back.

The chains between them were momentarily pulled taut before Isabella fell against him, and with a piteous cry, buried her face in his chest.

Spike unshackled her wrists. "Now, we'll have none of that bloody nonsense. Get your ass in the air now! I want you to look straight into Angelus' face!"

Obediently, she placed her hands on either side of Angel's chest and lifted her hips into the air until she hovered above Angel. The weights attached to the chains now rested on his chest, and the tips of her breasts dangled a breath away from his naked flesh and her hair spilled over her shoulders, brushing his chest like liquid electricity.

The loud crack startled him. Isabella cried out, but kept her eyes open, trained on his face. Another crack followed, then another. Spike must be using the paddle on her, Angel thought, but he couldn't see.

Isabella's face, flushed and contorted with pain, framed by her waterfall of hair, filled his vision. Hot tears rolled down her face and splashed onto his chest.

The sight unleashed a sudden jolt of desire within him, a desire that proceeded to run rampant, playing havoc with his mind and body.

He forgot about his momentary discomfort, the chains digging into his prone flesh, the strain of lying on his bound elbows. Her suffering, her pain, fanned the flames of sadism that had lied, smoldering in his gut, for so long.

As if someone had touched a match to his face, he changed, his eyes flaring. He grinned hungrily at her, his fangs poking at his bottom lip, his stiff cock nudging at her belly.

Isabella's eyes grew wide and her mouth parted in a sweet little 'o'.

Her tears stopped.

And abruptly, so did her spanking.

Isabella should have sagged in relief when the paddling ceased. Her backside felt like it was glowing red, throbbing and hot.

But it was the heat in Angel's eyes kept her rigid whole body rigid.

Whether it was from fear or anticipation, she honestly couldn't tell anymore. The desire, the fear, the pain, the pleasure, they had all meshed irrevocably and washed over her skin in a tide of fire.

She bit her lip as she felt Spike's cool hand caress her punished flesh.

His fingers slid down her ass and slipped between her legs. Isabella tried to stifle a cry, but failed. Although she was extremely wet and aroused, she was also extremely sore from Angel's earlier ministrations.

The throbbing flames in her backside quickly spread to her cunt as Spike's fingers continued to probe the delicate, wounded flesh. She squeezed her eyes shut against the hot wash of pain and involuntary pleasure.

When Spike's hand left her she opened her eyes again, only to find his face hovering before hers. "I thought I told you to keep your bloody eyes open. Have you had your fill of Angelus then?"

Isabella lowered her head and didn't respond.

"Well, I believe you have. But, to make sure you don't have the urge to disobey me again, I'll just make sure you can't look at anything." He produced a strip of black silk from his back pocket. "How does that sound?"

Isabella remained silent as he wrapped the silk around her head and tied it off, blindfolding her. It felt cool next to the flushed skin of her face.

"Kneel up!" Spike commanded, and she obeyed, placing her hands on the back of her neck, the insides of her knees pressing against Angel's waist.

She could feel his hard slabs of muscles tense beneath her thighs. The position pulled the chains connecting her and Angel taut, and a low groan sounded in the back of her throat as red lightening lanced through her breasts.

She felt her hands being taken down and gathered in the small of her back where cool, heavy shackles were once again snapped around them.

She felt Spike's hand pressing into her tender bottom again. She winced and wiggled a little, and Spike whispered into her ear, "Do you realize how very hard Angelus is, my pet? He's had a rough day, and your squirming isn't helping him out." His fingertips brushed her hip and his hand slid up her waist and across her ribcage to cup one of her tortured breasts. She groaned and quickly bit her lip. "Perhaps you should help him out?" Spike continued, his hand leaving her breast to slide up to her throat, fingering the pulse there.

Isabella couldn't help it - she begged, her last shred of pride washed away by desperation. "Please Spike, I can't, I'm too sore-" she was cut off with a hard slap that left her ears ringing.

"What did you call me, you little bitch?" His hand had wrapped around her throat like bands of steel, and she was finding difficulty breathing. "You are to call me Master, and you never, never refuse me! If I tell you to fuck my friend, then you bloody well do it, I don't care if your cunt's sore! I warned you not to let him suck your bloody pussy, and now you have to deal with the consequences!"

Isabella bowed her head and whispered, "Please, Master, it's too much, with the clamps, and...I don't think I can take it."

She heard Spike sigh. "Bloody hell." he muttered, and she felt his cool fingertips brush her tortured nipple, and felt the clamps easing off. Sparks of glowing pain peppered her breast, but the tugging, biting feeling was gone. Spike flicked the tips, and her nipples burned anew. "Better, love?"

She bit her lip and nodded, then abruptly heard a deeper groan, coming from Angel. Spike must be removing his end of the clamps. She heard more rustling, some clinking, and a few moments later, felt a stiff leather collar circling her neck.

It was clasped, and Isabella felt a sharp, sudden pull backwards. Her smarting bottom brushed something hot and hard - Angel.

"Now, I was nice and took off the bloody clamps," Spike said, "Now it's your turn to be nice."

She sat silent, unmoving, teeth worrying her bottom lip.

The stinging smack of the riding crop on her ass caused her jump and finally move back.

She felt the tip of Angel's cock slide across her slit; the bruised, swollen, but dripping flesh embraced the tip. She groaned against the burst of aching, stinging pleasure, at the flames that licked her labia. She felt another sharp slap of the riding crop. She very slowly began to lower her weight down, and Angel was pushing up inside her, tunneling into the pain.

Isabella's head rolled back and very distantly, she heard Angel's low moan, or maybe it was hers. She couldn't tell. She was lost, drowning in a sea of white-hot sensation, submerged in the dark depths where pleasure and pain were indistinguishable from one another.

It seemed she sank forever, her body swallowing Angel's endless flesh, and it was splitting her apart.

And when she stopped sinking, when her skin touched his, a bright, pulsing ball in her belly melted and flowed out into her chest, her limbs. It thrummed beneath her skin, her whole body buzzing with its energy, and she felt like her flesh would vibrate off her bones and she would fall apart.

The tug at her collar brought her back together, brought her head forward, and her lips touched something warm and blunt. A drop of stickiness smeared against her mouth.

Spike's cock nudged her lips apart and slid over her tongue.

She felt the movement before she comprehended it. It rippled through her, from her head and belly and crashed together right below her heard, sending shockwaves pulsing underneath her flesh. A low scream ripped itself from deep inside her chest, but the next thrust pushed it back down.

They were moving, both of them, and their cocks like warm hands massaging her internal organs, undulating against her heart, forcing her to move to match the rhythm.

Her body was twisting apart, flying off in all directions. The agony, the ecstasy filled her up like a giant balloon and she was floating high above her body, watching with blind eyes.

And then something broke inside her, and she burst, exploded, shattered the air with a high scream that was soared past the cock in her mouth and echoed through all three of their bodies.

**

Blackness clawed at his body with dark aftershocks of pleasure and reminders of pain. Distantly, he felt Isabella's weight lifted off him, and a cool hand stroking the burning flesh of his chest. His nipples still ached, but a pleasant lethargy washed over his body and absorbed the pain. The cool hand began to stroke his face, and his eyes opened a slit to see Spike's shock of white blond hair above him.

He was grinning. "You seem much more relaxed now, Angelus. We ought to get you out of these bindings." Spike lifted him as easily as he would a child, reaching behind him to undo the bindings at his elbows and wrists. He grunted softly as they were released, and then stretched his arms above his head, working the ache out of the muscles.

Spike released his torso and moved down his body, lightly caressing Angel's spent cock, which was lying across his thigh. It sent lazy currents of pleasure through his body.

Spike untied his knees and unlocked the shackles at his ankles, rubbing down the stiff muscles in Angel's legs.

Angel kicked his hands away. "Now Spike, I'm not some weakling to be babied like that." As if to prove this, he stood up in one blindingly fast, smooth motion.

"It's just nice to have you back and kickin' mate." Spike grinned.

Angel noticed his black slacks were pushed down around his hips, his cock in a similar state to Angel's. Then he saw Isabella, sprawled all but motionless on the floor except for her heaving breaths. The blindfold still bound her head, and the shackles still bound her wrists. Her hair streamed over her body and spilled onto the floor. The only clothing she was left wearing were the knee-high boots.

Seeing her like that made something shift inside his gut, tightening, then releasing.

Now she was the helpless one.

He kneeled beside her. His fingertips brushed her thigh, and she instantly stiffened, her labored breath ceasing so suddenly that the room was sucked into a void of silence.

His fingers slid down to her knee, and abruptly her breathing started again in small, fearful gasps. He gently opened her knees, and the musky, wet scent of her enveloped him.

She began to sob softly.

His fingers found the zipper to her left boot, right below the inside of her knee. He grasped the small handle and pulled down. The black leather gaped apart, revealing her balmy calf. His hand moved slowly across her shin, dislodging the leather. It was like unwrapping some long-anticipated gift.

Excitement at having her finally at his mercy sank its pulsating tongue into his flesh.

He slid the boot off and found himself holding her bare foot. He brought it close to his face for inspection. Her pink toes wriggled a bit as she tried to pull her foot away. He pressed his lips to the top of her foot, just below her big toe. His teeth sank into the delicate flesh and Isabella cried out.

He only tasted her, before lowering her foot to the ground, and moving on to removing her other boot.

He stood up and tossed the boots across the room. "Kneel up." he told her.

Her sobs suddenly stopped, and she lay motionless for a moment before folding her legs under her and rising up onto her knees with a surprising measure of grace.

He didn't think it was possible, but desire surged through him, giving life back to his limp dick. He removed her blindfold and her red-rimmed eyes blinked up at him, probing...but for what he didn't know.

He didn't care.

She was his now, at his mercy, just as she had put him at hers. He heard Spike glide up behind him and press something long and thin into his hand. He looked down at the riding crop, at its wide loop of leather that quivered ever so slightly as it hung suspended in the air. He slid his index finger across the rough texture of the handle.

Then he looked at Isabella.

And grinned.

"Stand up and plant your feet apart." he ordered.

When she stood as he commanded, he walked in a slow circle around her, examining her, tapping the riding crop in a light rhythm against his thigh.

"You obeyed Spike well enough, now let's see how well you play the bitch with me." He smacked her ass with the crop. He heard her soft intake of breath, but to his surprise, she didn't cry out or bite her lip. She seemed to gather her dignity around her, and lift her eyes to glare defiantly at him.

"I might be shackled and helpless before you now, Angel-"

He hit her thigh with the crop, cutting her off. "My name is Angelus, but you may call me master."

"Remember that I was your Mistress, your first, your only. Spike put me in chains, not you. I'm only here now because he wills it. You are still my slave, whether you acknowledge it or not."

Angel laughed, deep and throaty. "I think you're hardly in a position to be calling the shots, don’t you agree?" He pushed the tip of the riding crop between her legs, to stroke her swollen labia. To his satisfaction, she did cry out this time, but quickly bit it back and continued to glare defiantly at him.

"Don't quite know what to do with her, do you, Angelus?"

Angel turned to see Spike lounging like a pale golden cat on the couch, lightly stroking himself and grinning wickedly at Angel. He glided up off the couch and came to stand behind Angel, his half-erect member nudging Angel's backside, he stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. "I could help you out with that, mate." He nipped at Angel's earlobe, and peaked around his shoulder to grin at Isabella. She paled slightly, but her chin remained stubbornly set.

Spike reached his hand around in front of Angel and glided it up his thigh to capture his dick and give it a playful tug. He felt it grow stiffer in his hand, and Angel shift closer to him.

His own cock grew harder in response, and his hand slid up to twist Angel's nipples.

Angel quickly knocked his hand away. "Those are still tender from your earlier games."

"That's the fun of it." Spike nipped at Angel's shoulder playfully. "Now just think, if your nipples are still sore, imagine how her mortal ones must feel."

A slow, simmering smile crept across Angel's face and Isabella's eyes grew wide.

For an indeterminable moment, time hung suspended between them.

Then in a burst of speed, Isabella bolted for the stairs.

She only made it halfway across the living room before Spike intercepted her and wrestled her to the ground. He pinned her beneath him, and her chest heaved against his, her hair tangled beneath her head, her eyes wild and panicked.

She spit in his face. "Get off me, you fucking demon!" she screamed.

He settled his hips between her thighs. "Well, if you're going to call me a fucking demon, I might as well live up to the title."

Isabella's entire body went still and stiff. Angel strode over and knelt behind Spike, the tips of his nipples grazing the contours of Spike's back.

"You've had your fun with her Spike, it's my turn now."

"We can all have fun here Angelus." Spike wiggled his ass against Angel's cock. "I'll fuck her while you fuck me, and it'll be just like the old days, eh, mate?"

Angel molded his chest to Spike's back, his cock nudging Spike's muscled cheeks. His chin nuzzled Spike's neck, his sharp fangs grazed Spike's ear.

"It can't be like the old days." he whispered. "Not like this."

Spike craned his neck to peer questioningly into Angel's eyes. Angel slipped an arm around his waist, fingering Spike's nipples. "After all, she's still human."

Comprehension dawned on Spike's face with a demonic smile. "Now how come I didn't think of that?" He leaned forward, pressing Isabella into the floor.

Angel's hand slipped away from his nipples to wrap around his throat. "Now, remember Spike, it's my turn."

Spike relented, easing off of Isabella. Her eyes were wide, her breathing shallow.

Angel began to descend on her.

Her foot shot up, catching him square in the jaw.

During his moment of stunned surprise, she managed to leap to her feet and make another dash for the door.

Spike started after her, but Angel stopped him. "It's my turn, Spike."

He grinned at her retreating form dashing up the stairs.

The hunt was on.

**

Isabella had made it to the office and was headed for the door before she remembered her hands were shackled behind her back

And the fact that she was completely naked.

She stood at the door in a moment of indecision and stared at the silent raindrops pattering outside.

That moment cost her.

Angel appeared at the inner doorway to the office, and she whipped around to face him, her backside pressed up against the cold glass of the door, her shackled hands fumbling with the doorknob.

He began to stalk towards her, a grin plastered on his beautiful face.

"I can smell your fear." His voice was low and husky. "I can taste it - as thick and sweet as your desire. And your heart, that tiny, fluttering thing. Beating so hard, all that rich, red blood squeezing through it, rushing all over your body." He paused at the front desk, placed his hands on its surface and leaned across it. His tongue darted across his lips, making them glisten in the gray-blue light. "I've tasted all of you, Isabella - lips, cunt, come, blood...and now it's time for you to taste me."

His eyes burned into her naked mouth.

The knob finally twisted in her hand and door swung open suddenly, dumping her on the wet concrete outside.

Angel lunged over the desk after her.

She kicked the door shut, and he came crashing through the glass. Isabella scrambled backwards to avoid the explosion of glittering shards.

Angel landed on the sidewalk, crouched on one knee before her . The shattered glass mingled with raindrops and showered down on him. Their deadly sparkle battered at his back, and blood ran in rivulets across his spine.

He raised his eyes to her, piercing eyes, reflected in a billion shimmering drops of glass and rain, all blazing with the same anger and lust.

She stood up and began to run blindly. The pavement slapped at the soles of her feet, and raindrops slid across her skin, chilling her fevered flesh.

She chanced a look over her shoulder, but could not see if Angel following. A harsh, blaring noise brought her attention back into a blinding glare of lights.

She was flying then, weightless, and everything was silent, as if time had stopped and opened into her - into the aching, bruised numbness in her belly, the blur of the street reaching up for her, the explosion of red and black inside her head.

And then there was nothing but the black.

***

She felt different...she couldn't quite put her finger on how. Lighter, maybe, weightless, floating in an ocean of night, the soft roar of the waves like voices, whispers that brushed her skin, washed cool water around her limbs.

"I think she's starting to come to..."

The night was fading now, weak light broke across her eyelids. She blinked, and her eyes were immediately focused. Pipes above her, smell of leather and sweat.

And blood.

She was back in Angel's apartment.

"I'm not dead?" her small voice ventured.

"Indeed you are, my pet."

She turned her head to see Spike squatting near her.

"It doesn't seem to be much different then being alive."

"Ah, but it is. Don't you feel different, Isabella?" It was Angel, and she realized her head was in his lap. He had on pants now, black leather, smooth and cool, the sea of night she had floated in moments ago. His hand stroked her hair. "You have the most remarkable hair, my dear." he continued. "In the end, I think that was what got me...your body and skills are impressive, but
your hair in incomparable. Shining, soft, rippling like topaz water against me..."

His voice had a different quality now, it was clearer, richer, so many nuances of sound she never heard before, so much expression...it was like she knew exactly what he was thinking. And there was desire there...

She lifted her face up to his, capturing his mouth in hers, punching her tongue in the soft innards of his mouth, sliding it along the slick enamel of his fangs.

His hand pressed into the side of her breast, his thumb rubbing against her nipple. She groaned into his mouth, pushed her body against the knot beneath the smooth leather in the crotch of his pants.

The aching hunger gnawed at her, clawed at the inside of her belly, and before she knew it she was on top of Angel, pushing his head back, exposing his throat...

"I think she has a case of the munchies, wouldn't you say so Angelus?"

Isabella craned her neck to look at Spike, lounging on the couch a few feet away.

In a flash she had her hand around his throat, pressing him back into the cushions. "What did you do to me?"

"Well, isn't it obvious, love? We made you one of us, and a fat lot of thanks we're getting for saving your bloody life. And you can stop trying to choke me, because since we don't breathe, its not very effective."

Isabella loosened her grip. "I'm hungry."

Spike nuzzled her jaw. "Come to think of it, I am too." he murmured. He lifted his head to look at Angel. "What do you say, mate? Shall we go a-hunting?"