Black Birch

Author: Blackbirch
Title: For the screaming
Rating: very NC-17
Warning: non-con, bondage, whipping
Fandom: pre-series BtVS/AtS
Summary: (Fanged Four). Angelus wants something and William is stubborn and refuses. But what Angelus wants, Angelus gets.. it might just take a little time and persuasion.
Wordcount: 2242 words
Pairing: William/Angelus
Archive: No. I repeat - no.
Disclaimer: All characters are copyright of their originators. No infringement intended, no profit made.
Feedback: Yes please. Any kind (good or bad) you can give me.

Story Notes:
written for Your skin is my canvas challenge #2 at a_darker_angel, beta’d by ely_jan
Originally posted 2005-11-29

When Angelus had something on his mind, the family knew what to expect. Not the particular details, he never bothered to reveal his reasons. He didn’t have to. Drusilla never thought to ask and William was still too new to dare question things. Darla knew him well enough to know what his obsessions were, and if they grew too long and tiresome she would complain about it. Angelus might be the alpha male that ruled his family with an iron fist, but he was never allowed to forget that he was sharing his throne with Darla and her sharp mind. Nor the fact that she did own him, Sire’s privilege and all that. Darla didn’t cash in on that often, not anymore as her angel had grown up to be quite the master in his own right, but power was not something you gave up just because you didn’t have to wield it frequently.

However, her occasional lack of patience with Angelus’ passions didn’t mean that she never enjoyed some of them. After all, after playing tutor to his pupil, watching the end result was never boring. He was a quick study, fast to learn and inventive in his own devious ways. She was comfortable in the high-backed chair in the corner and watched from far enough away that the blood spatter wouldn’t ruin her dress with a glass of cool wine at hand. Such a pretty thing with such a filthy cruel mind — oh how she loved her dear boy. All grown up with toys of his own to hone his skills on. His latest toy wasn’t really his, but then Drusilla never could keep anything alive.

—

William was tied to the pillars, naked and shivering, that incessant mumbling Angelus never quite could get him to stop falling from his lips. It was annoying was what it was, but the brat seemed to take comfort in hearing his own words so no matter how many times Angelus colored his skin in different shades of pain, he never managed to make him shut up for long. The screams though, those he kept to himself. When Angelus had left the room to get a drink or just simply wash off some of the dried blood, he could hear William sobbing loudly through the walls. But as soon as he entered the room the sweet sounds stopped and turned into that mumble. The screams were worth nothing if he couldn’t hear them while being in the same room.

Angelus had to admit that the young lad was stubborn to the point that even if he couldn’t resist bending to Angelus’ violent desires, he could refuse to give him everything. The sobs, whimpers and quiet tears he gave freely, but never the screams. Those were the sounds he wanted. Like a burr in his skin, an itch he had to scratch. What Angelus wanted, he got, and he wouldn’t stop until he’d gotten his screams. Preferably loud with a please and a yes, anything you want thrown in.

The cat o’ nine tails hung heavy in Angelus’ hand dripping blood on the expensive carpet. His arm was tired, but it was only a fleeting concern. He was concentrating on choosing between all the ideas about what he could do with this damned boy. He had started out pretty light, chained him with iron cuffs that bruised and, as William had learned the hard way, would break bones easily if you struggled too much. This time William was as still as he could manage, for once a quick learner. Pain tended to stay in memory, probably that loud snap as well. Bones breaking make the crunchiest sounds, not quite so pleasant when they are your own.

After that he had used the riding crop on his thighs and buttocks, beginning while the boy was still clothed. Less mess that way as the fabric soaked up the blood, and wet fabric was always easier to tear off. Pity about the clothes though; William never could keep himself tidy. It was quite expensive to keep him looking like a gentleman, but Angelus guessed he could be lenient to a point. He was after all still a baby and sloppy with his food. Neatness was something he needed to learn, and Angelus was good at reminding him. Problem was Will was really forgetful and had to be reminded often and those reminding sessions almost always ended up with his clothes even more ruined. Angelus had forgotten how much trouble it was to teach somebody obedience, and Drusilla had been easy in comparison. She was always Daddy’s little girl.

But tearing the clothes off Will’s lithe body never got boring, he enjoyed that whimper to the fullest as the fabric dug into bleeding skin before it tore. Fair locks framed a tear stained face and soft lips set in a thin line of determination, reddened and bitten in his attempts to keep from being too loud. No, that wouldn’t do at all. Angelus wanted those lips red as rubies, stained with blood and opened by teeth before he started in on the heavier games.

William’s back was still creamy white, only slightly flushed and smeared with blood from his striped buttocks. Like cream cake and raspberry jam on a child’s hands. A jolt of want made his dick, already hardened by whimpers and the smell of tears, twitch. He had to have a little taste, a finger drawn across skin split open, Angelus felt the boy shiver beneath his hand. The drops landed on his tongue, thick with fear and anticipation and bittersweet with pain and lust. Because even though how much William denied it now, he enjoyed Angelus’ touch afterwards. When he soothed the pain after William had given him what he wanted, when he had been a good boy and pleased him. When there was a different shiver in the body beneath him, the whimpers of want and need, begging so prettily because he had learned his lesson. Follow father’s rules and you get awarded.

Angelus grew impatient; the boy sure took his sweet time to give in. It was inevitable that he would. He knew that the longer William could take it, the greater the anticipation became … but patience wasn’t always a virtue Angelus bothered to abide by.

He hesitated before he picked up the nine tailed whip; that back was so pretty even he sometimes felt like it was sacrilege to ruin something so beautiful. Blossoms of red, blue, green and yellow, stripes of red and black weren’t always beautiful. Muscles gliding under soft pale skin, nipples turning darker with attention paid to them and that proud neck he so often wanted to break. But it bent so prettily, soft locks of hair in that little curve where it was so vulnerable where his thumb fit like a glove. Angelus loved to wrap his hand around that neck, hold and guide and mark it his with bruises that never stayed long enough. He drew it on paper, the arch of that neck and the cheekbones so sharp he had tried to sharpen his knife on them. Just to see if it glided as well as imagined, skin soft as butter. Poor little William had screamed then, but passed out much too soon. And that pretty face with its weeping flesh, flapping jaw and torn ligaments had been such a bore waiting for it to heal, he had never tried it again.

The cat was, of course, tipped with steel that instantly dug deep, and rivulets of blood flowed over the rest of his as yet unbroken skin, stopping to gather just above that curve of sweet buttock before it flowed over and down his thighs. Angelus was happy he had told Darla exactly what he was going to do so she wouldn’t start arguing with him about ruined carpets and furniture. He looked over to her and she seemed to be enjoying the pretty picture in chains just as much as he. Maybe he wouldn’t be the only one to soothe his boy afterwards. Darla liked the taste of torment.

The whimpers got louder with every stroke, but not loud enough to be called a scream. When the tips of William’s shoulder blades could be seen through the open wounds, Angelus stopped. He wanted his boy hoarse from screaming, not his body broken to the point where he’d have to nurse him for days. It made both him and Darla cranky, and while Drusilla enjoyed playing mother, she couldn’t take care of a fly and they would end up taking care of both of them.

Angelus tossed the cat on the floor and walked up to the boy, tired of the game. “William.” The anger was clear in his voice, the fun at an end. “Why don’t you just give in and give me what I want to hear, or I can beat you fleshless if you’d rather.” William’s blue eyes widened at that, his lips bitten through, bloody and torn and trembling. When he still didn’t speak, Angelus closed in on him, grabbed his face between his large palms and pushed his fingers into the light brown tangle of his hair. The chains clanked as the body was pulled forward. “William. I’m not going to give up, I’m never going to stop and when you pass out, I will feed you till you wake again. I can do this for days. Can you?”

“No.” The word was mangled between broken lips, tears running over Angelus thumbs as he caressed the soft skin underneath Will’s eyes. “Exactly. Good boy. So, if you still want to keep these blue eyes of yours, you know what to do right?”

The nod was so slight that if Angelus hadn’t been holding William’s head he never would have felt it. “Look me in the eyes, William. Don’t look away or you won’t have eyes to see with tomorrow.” The body trembled beneath his hands, flesh pebbled in the wake of his touch. He shifted slightly so William had to turn his head to still look him in the eye wincing as it pulled the raw flesh on his back. “Stubborn, beautiful boy.”

Angelus pulled lever on the chains and lowered William down onto the floor, and tears flooded the boy’s eyes as he had to sit and put pressure on his bruised and broken flesh. “It’s okay, you don’t have to look at me now” and with that Angelus flipped him over on his belly, opened his breeches and just before he drove into unprepared flesh, he gave his order again.

“Now scream for me, boy.”

This time he was clearly obeyed and William let out a guttural scream that rose higher as he tore into him repeatedly. Loud sobbing whimpers came out of his mouth as the fabric of Angelus’ clothes roughly dragged against open wounds in a brutal pace. Will squirmed and moved beneath him but never struggled to get away. He tried so hard to please as he fought to take the pain. This earned him a bit of generosity in Angelus’ eyes, he stuck his arm beneath the boy’s neck, lifting him up as he rammed into him. “Good boys get awarded, William.” Deep into him, he paused, his arm powerful with blood pounding just beneath the surface, tantalizingly close to William’s mouth. He could feel the boy shying back, trying to move away from temptation. He whispered in his ear, “Have you been good?”

The boy was trembling all over now, Angelus knew he thought this to be a trick, and didn’t know how to respond. He groaned out loud as the boy tensed around his cock. Angelus longed for a bed, sleep and a healthy Will he could pound into his feather mattress and get those different kind of whimpers. Pain or pleasure, variation was always best.

“Answer me, are you a good boy now, William?”

“Yes?” So soft and so hesitant.

“Yes, William, now you are. But defy me like this again and we’ll see about those eyes of yours.” The tremble in the body beneath him intensified and Angelus relished the feeling before he decided to cut the lesson for today. “Feed, Will. I permit it.”

William took his time, but when he finally dared to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of Angelus’ arm, Angelus growled in approval before he pulled out and pushed in, finding his rhythm again. The boy’s fangs in his arm and the way he worked hard to please by pushing back on Angelus’ cock made it soon finished. The boy came as well, a shuddering groan of mixed relief and pleasure. Will suckled on Angelus’ blood as long as he was permitted and gave a kittenish sound of need when he was finally pushed away.

“Enjoy the show, beautiful?” Angelus looked over at Darla as he stood up and pulled off his clothes. They were caked with blood and not fit to wear anymore.

“Very much so, Angelus.” She gracefully stepped between the gore stains on the floor as she walked up to him, a beautiful nightmare in blonde curls and red silk. Dragging a finger across his cheek she smiled at him. “You need to take a bath, then you can come see me.” Licking the finger clean she left the room.

Angelus was already hard again. Family at its most pleasant