Author: Elsa Frohman Feedback:elsa@frohman.net Rating: NC-17 (Hey, these people are EEEEEVILLL) Spoilers: None Summary: I do penance for amateur Latin here. What did
Angelus think of Drusilla's choice of the "wisest and bravest
knight in all the land?" Warning: This story contains disturbing images and explicit,
distinctly unhealthy sexual activity. If you're easily offended,
you might want to take a pass on this one.
God, I hate him.
He's sitting over there smirking. So pleased with himself. I'd
like to wipe that smug expression off his face. I could go over
there right now and beat the unholy crap out of him. I'm still
stronger -- a lot stronger. I could smash my fist into his face
until it was an unrecognizable mush of blood and bruise.
Crush his nose flat. Squeeze until his eyeballs pop. But he'd
still laugh at me.
It's not that he doesn't know I could kill him. He knows. He
doesn't care.
He didn't start out like this. Lord, at first, I thought he was the
most pathetic fledgling vampire in history. He was timid. He
was revolted by our lifestyle. He was holding on to his
human values with a death grip. He looked to be fated for the
shortest brush with immortality imaginable.
I taught him to fight and kill. Who would have thought sweet
William would take to it so?
At first, he refused to hunt. He said he couldn't bear to kill a
human being, and stood fast on that principle. Of course, he
already had -- but after that first moment of bloodlust left
him, it looked for a while as if he was going to resist it.
Imagine that. As timid as he was, he was locked in a battle of
wills with us -- with me. I threatened and intimidated him. I
beat him. Darla scourged him with her cold contempt and
sarcasm. Dru -- well, Dru worked out a torture for him
crueler than anything I could have imagined.
Drusilla brought him her kills a few times to share. But he
was reluctant to feed even then -- even though he was
starving. He gave in when she cajoled and coaxed him. She
was working on him in ways both subtle and conspicuous.
She had something he wanted in the worst way -- and she
was withholding it until he proved himself "worthy."
Oh, how she teased him. That was fun to watch. Dru can be
such a temptress when she puts her mind to it. She let him
sleep beside her, and he would wake each evening with her
hands wandering over his undead body.
She would stroke and caress him, telling him all the while
how strong and manly she thought he was. But if he made a
move toward her, she'd stop him cold.
"Naughty, naughty boy," she would say. "You're not worthy.
You know what you have to do first."
I loved watching their dance. It was almost worth the
irritation of having him around. He was a walking hard-on.
And his sense of propriety kept him from relieving himself,
no matter how bad it got. There was no privacy in our lair.
Vampires aren't big on privacy. He had the bluest balls in the
history of mankind.
Dru teased him until he was on the verge going mad. He
would moan as she touched him. He was hungrier for her
than he was for the blood he was refusing. She was all over
him, but he had this sense of chivalry that meant no matter
what she was doing to him, he wouldn't lay a hand on her
without her permission.
But at the same time she was tormenting him, she was
looking out for him too. She had plans for William, and
wasn't about to let anything happen to him. I'm pretty sure
she told him about some of my little games, because when I
came at him the first time, he was ready. He wasn't stupid.
Naïve, yes, but never a dullard.
"So, William," I said on the second night he was with us.
"Tell me about your family."
A fearful look flickered across his face.
"Don't have any family," he lied.
I would have known he was not telling the truth even if he
hadn't been such an appallingly bad liar. You can tell when a
man lives among women, and William was clearly such a
man. I was certain he was living with a mother at the very
least, if not a sister or two. Besides, there had been a funeral.
"Don't have any family? How sad. But quite good that you're
so handy with a needle and thread."
"Excuse me?"
"That's quite a nice mend on the sleeve of your jacket. The
sort of thing a mother would do for her son."
He glanced at the nearly invisible patch on his sleeve then
looked back at me with his jaw set.
"Took it to a seamstress."
"Oh, well, I think I might need some mendin' done. Why
don't you show me where this seamstress has her shop?"
"Uh, it's not there any more. She went out of business."
"So sad. I suppose she ended up in the workhouse."
He nodded and looked away.
Drusilla came to his rescue. "No need to bother my William
about seamstresses," she cooed, wrapping her arms around
him from behind and rubbing up against him. "Grandmother
and I can do your mending. I'm quite handy with a needle.
My mummy always used to say I did the most beautiful
embroidery. Whatever happened to my mummy? Where has
she gone?"
She nuzzled against his neck and nibbled at his ear. He
swallowed hard and closed his eyes. He knew he wasn't
getting any. The look on his face -- it was something to
behold -- frustration, disappointment, lust, fear, in equal
portions.
It made me laugh. "Leave the poor orphan alone, Dru. Come
over here and make me happy."
"No," Dru said petulantly. "You're happy enough already."
"I said come here," I repeated. Her refusal was part of the
game -- I knew it and she knew it. Of course, William didn't.
"Leave her alone," he said, bracing to protect her from me.
I couldn't help myself; I dissolved in laughter. He was such a
drama queen. I laid him out with one blow. He fell and
skidded across the floor unconscious. By the time he came to,
I had Dru in the manacles on the bed, and was well along
getting her clothing off. She was playing along -- whining
and crying. She knew I liked that.
He came at me again as soon as he could stand. I decked him
again, and he went down hard. He was up again a moment
later. He was a persistent bastard, even if he was a wimp.
"Stop it, William," Dru said sternly.
He stopped in his tracks, confused again.
"You'll just get hurt. I don't want my sweet boy hurt."
"But Drusilla..." he said.
"I've been a very naughty, disobedient girl. Angelus must
punish me," she said calmly.
"No, this isn't right," he said plaintively. "You don't
deserve..."
"You heard her," I said with a giggle. "We wouldn't want you
hurt."
"That's right," Dru chimed in, her voice dripping with lust.
"Hurt me, not William."
"Always glad to please my princess."
I glanced over at the twit. He was just standing there stunned,
not sure what he should do. I don't think he'd ever considered
that anyone could enjoy being hurt.
He watched, gaping, as I buried my fingers in her dark hair
and yanked her head back. She cried out.
"Like that?" I asked.
"Yes. Very much."
I looked over at William. There were tears welling up in his
eyes. I grinned at him. "Watch closely, my boy. You may
need to know how to do this some day."
I was unfastening my trousers when Darla came in. Oh, didn't
I mention that Darla was out "shopping" when all this
transpired? She wanted a new outfit. She seemed to have
located a suitably stylish woman of her own size. She was
wearing a rose taffeta gown with an impressive bustle and
many ruffles.
I might also mention that we might never have made William
if Darla hadn't been going through one of her "reluctant to
share" phases.
"Just what do you think you're doing, Angelus?" she said
crossly.
"Um... nothing."
I got up hastily and let Dru out of the manacles.
"Don't be cross, Grandmother. I was a bad, nasty little girl."
"I told you..."
"Don't let her rile you, sweetheart. She only says it because it
bothers you."
Drusilla got up and went to William. She was aroused and
unsatisfied, and for a moment I thought William was going to
get his heart's desire without paying the toll.
But Dru was smarter than that. She took him over and sat him
on her bed, then sat across his lap. His eyes devoured her
naked flesh. His arms were around her and I could see the
hope growing in him. Dru squirmed and mewed, nuzzling his
neck and kissing him hungrily.
"Drusilla," he murmured. "My love. My princess."
"My brave knight," she cooed, as she guided his hand to the
dark triangle between her legs.
Such hope and desire in his face. I'm sure he thought she was
going to reciprocate. But he really didn't know Drusilla, yet.
She worked his fingers into her cunt and rode them hard. She
wasn't quick about it either. She writhed and bucked,
moaning his name and biting his face and neck. He
whispered her name and tried to caress her. I say tried, she
wasn’t holding still enough for him to do very much. But he
was giving it a game try.
She came with a throaty cry, throwing her head back and
arching her back. She relaxed at last, slumping against his
chest. He stroked her face and kissed her tenderly, then
picked her up and laid her down on the bed. He was about to
unfasten his trousers when she stopped him.
"No, no!" she said, wagging a finger at him. "You know what
you have to do first..."
He sat back down heavily, holding his head in his hands.
Darla let out a snicker. "Now, wasn't that entertaining?"