Author: Gia

Rating: Very much NC-17.  Contains explicit sex; consensual BDSM play, spanking, voyeurism

Disclaimer: Own nothing. All belongs to Joss, ME, Fox,

Pairing: B/A.

Author's Notes: For the B/A Kink Ficathon. This fic started out as a discussion between indie and I months ago, then languished until the B/A Kinkathon came about and I actually found a direction for it.

Here's the original request from Lamia (aka carlyinrome).

Specific Story Details: Angel or Angelus -- either is fine -- should dom, and I'd like Buffy to squirm in front of an audience of some kind. Number/nature of said audience doesn't matter, and how Angel(us) humiliates/fucks/punishes her is up to you -- just nothin' in the squick column (see below).

Restrictions: No waterplay or anything like that. No beastiality, and no Buffy/Spike!Love.  

Maybe Baby is by Benefit; "Sparkling and flirtatious, Maybe Baby is a warm and inviting fragrance that captures a playful tumble of white blossoms. Like a wink from across the room, or a lingering gaze or shy smile ... it's a tempting tease."

Set during Ats s5, sometime after "The Cautionary Tale of Numero Cinco".  Buffy & company didn't go to Europe, they went to LA where Buffy is working with Angel at W&H.  Angel's curse, thanks to Wesley's analysis about perfect happiness being next to impossible – especially after all that Angel has been through - is no longer an issue.

"Pezcatkittle" is Buffy's name for "Tezcatcatl"; the change was done on purpose.

Summary: After a disagreement, Buffy realizes that Angel has to be seen by everyone at Wolfram & Hart as the alpha. She sets out to make amends.

Feedback: Please.

Distribution: My site; all others please ask.

Completed 1.1.2005

The scent of her 'Maybe Baby' perfume alerted him to the fact that Buffy was on her way into his office several minutes before she actually appeared in the doorway. He didn't look up, instead forcing his concentration to the papers in front of him.

Undeterred, Buffy swept into the room and dropped the bag she was carrying on the chair in front of his desk with a solid thump. Moving with a smooth, confident gait, she walked to the window. She started to close the blinds, but instead shrugged and left them open. The tempered glass was probably opaque, and besides, who'd be looking in at this height?

Next, she closed and locked the doors to the conference room that adjoined Angel's office. Continuing her circle around the room, she returned at last to the door that she had come through only minutes before. Several Wolfram & Hart employees now lingered in the hallway, their interest in her actions undisguised.

Still at his desk, Angel continued his reading, pretending not to be paying her the slightest attention.

Closing the door against the curious glances, Buffy leaned back against it. She scrutinized her lover for a few minutes before she spoke. "Are you still sulking?"


She smiled at the brusque one word answer. He was definitely sulking.

"I've given it a lot of thought and I think I understand now." Turning the lock, she pushed away from the door.

He finally looked up her, one eyebrow raised in question.  Buffy now stood directly in front of his desk. She wore a knee-length black skirt and simple pink boucle jacket with black trim. Her hair was pulled up on her head in an upswept style not unlike one he remembered her wearing often in Sunnydale years ago.

"In a place like this," she began matter-of-factly, unzipping the bag she had brought, and reaching inside to retrieve a black, silk scarf.

"You know, Wolfram & Hart: evil empire," she whispered conspiratorially as she placed the scarf on the desk directly in front of him. The material formed a dark pool on top of the papers he had just been reading, covering them completely and effectively removing them as an excuse for further distraction.

"It's important for you to always keep the upper hand." A padded, black leather blindfold joined the scarf on the desk.

His nostrils flared slightly and his fingers clenched the pen that he still held in his hand, but otherwise showed no reaction to her words or actions.

"The senior partners, and your employees, as well as your clientele, need to believe that you're in clearly in charge." She dangled a pair of leather wrist cuffs teasingly from one finger. "There can be no doubts in their minds, no questions."

The cuffs were added to the pile on the desk as the pen Angel had been holding snapped in several pieces from the force of his grip. With an irritated grunt, he tossed the broken pieces in the garbage and grabbed a handkerchief from his drawer, wiping away the drops of spilled ink.

"That means when someone disobeys you…" Buffy continued when she once again had his attention. Taking a riding crop out of the bag she held it up in front of her. She pursed her lips thoughtfully, her eyes meeting his as she bent one end of the crop and released it, as if testing the leather rod's flexibility. "Discipline must be harsh and swift."

A flicker of something dark and unfathomable stirred in his eyes.

"Otherwise," she added with the shrug of one shapely shoulder. "Everyone will think that they can refuse to comply with your wishes. Or, maybe even worse, that they can challenge you."  The riding crop was placed with deliberate precision alongside the other items, her grey-green eyes staring directly into the deep brown of his as she leaned over.

Angel inhaled slowly, shifting in his chair to more comfortably accommodate his growing erection.

"You'll lose all respect," she said matter-of-factly as she once again stood upright.

His brows rose but he didn't move.

"And if that happens, you'll have lost control." His eyes followed her hands as she began to unfasten the buttons on her jacket, the slow unveiling of her breasts bringing Angel's erection to a taut, new dimension. "Something you absolutely can't afford to do here."

The jacket was discarded on the chair, revealing a black satin corset. The tightly laced bodice ended just under the curve of her breasts, leaving them bare to his gaze.

A flaring rush, heated and heady, streaked through Angel's senses.

"I'm sorry all of this didn't occur to me the other day, you know, when I went after that demon, that Pezcatkittle thing. I didn't think… I just reacted."

Reaching behind her, Buffy unzipped her skirt. She eased the material down her hips until it pooled at her feet. Making eye contact with him, she turned and leaned down with deliberate slowness and retrieved the discarded skirt. 

Angel's fingers flexed in his palms as he took in the provoking outline of her figure, the curve of her hip and thigh, the taut peak of her nipple. Her every movement, feline and sensuous, provoked his desire. It was intentional, he knew. And it worked every time, without fail.

The skirt was casually draped over the chair with her jacket. Reaching up, she removed the clips from her hair and dropped them in her bag. When she was finished, she shook her head, the golden mass spilling over her shoulders and down her back in a sexy, tousled tumble.

In the prevailing silence while she attended to her hair, his experienced eye had taken note of every detail of her appearance. In addition to the corset, she was wearing a tiny lace g-string, sheer black stockings with a seam that ran up the center back, and 4-inch, black patent leather stiletto heels. Her eyes were lined with a smudged, smoky plum shadow making them appear more green than grey, but still luminous and heated. She wore a shiny plum gloss on her lips, one he knew the taste of well. Her cheeks were naturally flushed a delicate pink, a look he also knew well.

Finished with her hair, she looked back at him.

"So, then…" she murmured, her gaze drifting over the objects laid out on his desk. A shiver ran through her – of anticipation and of need, Angel's eyes watching her so intently an aphrodisiac. "I'm here for my… punishment."

The words were uttered in the softest of whispers, but they both felt the heated, carnal implication.

Angel sat frozen in his spot, unable to think or move. God help him, he was glad he didn't need to breath, as he wasn't sure he would have been able to do that either. He wondered fleetingly if this were all some erotic illusion, some fantasy that someone at W&H had pulled from the darkest depths of his brain.

After a moment, Buffy gracefully strolled around the desk. Standing behind his chair, she trailed her fingertips over his shoulders and down the tense muscles in his arms before leaning down and whispering in his ear. "Some think that because of our relationship…" Her lips brushed his neck as she swiveled him around so that he was facing her. She placed her hands on the arms of his chair and leaned over him. "That you won't do anything. That I'll get away with breaking the rules. Your rules."

Placing one knee on the chair between his legs, she moved closer, her breasts nearly brushing his chest. "And some of the others," she breathed, biting at his lower lip, before trailing her lips along his jaw, "think that I'll get away with it because I'm the Slayer."

Angel snorted softly, indignantly.

She moved languidly against him, loving the feel of his strong, muscular form against her own. "But I think that's just another reason why you will."

"Think about it…" Her voice was low, soft and hypnotic against his ear. "A Slayer at a vampire's mercy… and your mercy… her hands tied, legs spread wide… you could do anything you wanted." Her hand drifted along his thigh, moving steadily upward. "And I wouldn't be able to stop you." 

"You could touch me anywhere, or kiss me, or…" She murmured as her fingertips brushed the bulge of his erection. Pausing, she offering him a coy glance from under her lashes. "You could even… spank me."

His nostrils flared as primal emotion responded to her provocative suggestion. His vampiric tendencies surged as well, threatening to take control.

As if unaware of the effort he was making to restrain his base impulses, Buffy leaned across him in a slow, luxurious movement and pressed the button on the phone. Harmony's voice broke the silence in the now hushed office. "Yes, Boss?"

Buffy glanced at Angel meaningfully.

"Cancel any of my appointments for the afternoon and hold all my calls..." He gave Buffy an assessing glance. "Until I tell you otherwise."

Releasing the button on the phone, she stared down into his now hot, hungry eyes.

A muscle briefly twitched in his cheek and his dark brows drew together. Reaching up suddenly, he took her shoulders in his hands and pulled her close so their faces were mere inches apart.  "Do you have any idea what you're getting into?"

"Yes," she answered unevenly, the intensity of her growing excitement making her feel light-headed, and damp between her thighs. She might have begun the provocative game, but he would finish it now and stake a primitive claim on her in a way that no one else ever had or could. Without a doubt, she knew that fulfillment of this fantasy would be like nothing she'd ever experienced before.

"Are you sure?" he murmured somewhat impudently, his grip tightening on her shoulders. His eyes dropped to her lips then drifted lower. She looked incredibly desirable with her breasts spilling over the top of the corset, her nipples dark and hard. Her sex was framed perfectly by the garter straps, the tiny g-string offering only a scant covering. His gaze drifted lazily back to her face. In all his years, he'd never seen anything so sexy, so unbelievably tempting as what she was offering.

And having her willingly submissive to him… it was a fantasy come true; a fantasy that strongly appealed to both man and demon. 

Inhaling deeply, Buffy nodded. She felt as if she were drowning, the urge to surrender to him growing stronger with each passing second. Maybe it was because she was the Slayer, or maybe it was because she was always the strong one, always the one in control, that made her crave this. Or maybe the answer was simply Angel himself. To be dominated by him… she'd never wanted anything more, so glorious and undeniable the pleasure that she already knew could be found at his hands. This would take things one step further in their relationship. But ultimately, Angel was the man she trusted with her body and more. He was the one who made her feel remarkably delicate and feminine, and yet so lavishly seductive – as if she were made especially for him. She smiled. She was his, she knew, in every possible way.

Giving in to the urge, he kissed her deeply, passionately, searching her mouth with his own. She responded with abandon, her hands coming up to his shoulders, her tongue caressing his.

"Red," he murmured against her lips as he eased her away from him to stand between his legs. His gaze raked over her possessively.

"Red?" she breathed questioningly, feeling bereft when he set her away from him.

"Your safe word," he said as he reached for something on the desk with one hand. With his other hand, he reached for her right wrist and lifted it to his lips. Their eyes met as he placed a soft kiss just below her palm. His tone was serious. "Say red if you want to stop, yellow if you want to slow things down. I know you're the Slayer, but-" 

"I know," she interrupted, placing one finger over his lips. She knew he would want her to feel in control, safe. She was touched by his concern. "I know you don't want to hurt me, but I don't want you to think that you have to hold back. I can take it. We need to do this.  And you have to remember, I started it… I want it. From you."

He hesitated only a moment longer before he wrapped one cuff around her wrist, fastening the buckle tightly.

Obediently, she held out her other wrist for him.

"No. Turn around."

His deep voice now held an air of command. Her gaze flashed to his. One of his eyebrows quirked upward as if in challenge and his lips curved up in a predatory smile. She wanted to play… he would show her that he was more than willing.

Buffy swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Slowly she turned to face away from him.

Her other wrist was imprisoned and the cuffs fastened together at the small of her back.

She heard the soft creak of his chair as he stood behind her. The blindfold was positioned over her eyes and tied securely at the back of her head. In the ensuing darkness, she felt her senses leap to life. She could feel him behind her, the hard ridge of his erection rubbing alluringly against her bottom. His clean, male scent seemed suddenly more pronounced, as did the low rasp of her own breathing.

One of his hands settled on her waist just above her hips. She swayed slightly, rubbing back against him. With his other hand he brushed her hair back over her shoulder. Gently he traced the line of her jaw, his fingers barely touching the skin. Next they moved down her neck to lingeringly caress the scar on her neck. He brushed the mark with his lips as his fingers drifted lower to the swell of her breasts.

Abruptly he dropped his hands and stepped away from her. She could sense him moving as he walked around her slowly, his feet soundless on the plush carpet. She shivered. She hadn't quite expected this feeling of vulnerability, of being stalked by something more primitive and powerful than she. He could devour her and no doubt would, before the afternoon was over, and in ways that she hadn't even anticipated. He never failed to surprise her in the most wonderful of ways with his imagination and sexual expertise. At the thought, she licked her lips in anticipation.

Angel studied her with hooded eyes. She was so perfect, flawless. Her breasts, perfectly formed with hard, dark pink nipples that made him want to taste them. The corset only emphasized her trim waist and the flare of her gently rounded hips; hips that were practically made to be grasped tightly as he plunged into her heated center. He wanted to grab her then and ram himself into her body. A thousand fantasies played in his mind as she stood there patiently and waited for his command.

He'd never been so hard in his life; his cock felt iron-hard already and they had only just begun. He wasn't sure he was going to be able contain himself, nor did he want to. He wanted to do exactly what she wanted him to – spank that firm, round ass then throw her on the desk and bury himself in her for all eternity. He wanted to feel those hips grinding against him, along with the soft rounded breasts and hard nipples rubbing his naked chest. He wanted all that and more. But first…

"On your knees."

The directive after the seemingly long silence took her by surprise. It wasn't at all what she had been expecting would happen next. With a small smile playing on her lips and only the smallest hesitation, she slowly sank to her knees.


"Can you hear anything?" Harmony asked Lorne who had his ear pressed firmly to the door of Angel's office suite.

"'Fraid not, pumpkin," Lorne replied with a shake of his head. "Whatever's going on in there, it's in the key of silent."

At the green demon's words, several of the Wolfram & Hart employees that had been in the hallway when Buffy had entered Angel's office exchanged glances. The tension around the office the last few days had been palpable; now they were all expecting a loud argument to ensue between the vampire and the Slayer and none of them wanted to miss it.

"What? You think they're doing it on the desk or something?" Eve asked with unconcealed envy. That there was no love lost between the Slayer and the Senior Partner liaison was a fact that was widely known around the office, particularly after Eve had shown up to work with a nasty black eye from the time she had finally pushed the blonde Slayer too far.

"It wouldn't be the first time," Harmony snorted with a roll of her eyes.


Angel unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it, dropping the expensive silk carelessly on the floor behind him. Next, he unfastened his pants and debated whether or not to remove them completely as he used one hand to draw out his cock. Curling his fingers around it, he ran his hand up and down it firmly.

Hearing the soft sounds of Angel undressing, Buffy ran her tongue over her lips wetting them. She felt a small movement of the air next to her and she knew he was now standing in front of her. She leaned forward and the hard length of his cock brushed her cheek. It was velvety soft yet as solid as steel. She moved her head, caressing him lightly with her face. Knowing what he wanted, she began to lick him slowly, teasingly with her warm, wet tongue.

"Take me in your mouth." Impatient suddenly, he rocked forward.

Obediently her lips closed around him, relishing the taste and feel of him. She sucked and licked with deliberate slowness, swirling her tongue over and around him to draw out their pleasure.

Angel slid his fingers into her hair, holding her head gently but firmly. She looked so achingly beautiful kneeling before him, submissive to his every whim. He stroked her cheek and pushed deeper. Playing the game, she resisted a little and drew back. In response, he tugged on her hair and moved forward insistently, pushing deeper into her mouth. She relaxed and he slid down her throat. He pulled back and surged forward again, losing himself quickly in the rhythm, in the hot, wet feel of her mouth sucking, licking…

"Take it deep, baby. Suck it…"

His voice had changed and Buffy wondered if he had vamped out. She clenched her thighs together, the thought only adding to the wetness between her legs. She bobbed her head, feeling him swell and pulse in her mouth as she became lost in a rhythm that she knew from experience would drive him mindless.

His body jerked as she sucked avidly, his cock growing impossibly harder.  She felt him swell, the length of him and width of him now difficult for her to take fully into her mouth.

His hips moved in response to the motions of her mouth and tongue, and he delighted in the subtle little sounds she was making in the back of her throat.

Angel pulled back on last time, his hand still buried in her hair and jerking her back as he surged forward again. In a wave of undeniable, mindless passion, he growled and released his seed in her mouth.

Buffy swallowed eagerly, pleased to have driven him past the point of control. When he withdrew from her, she sat back on her heels, licked her lips, and waited blindly for his next instruction.  

With his impatience now curbed, Angel tucked his still semi-hard cock back in his pants and partially zipped them. He reached out and adjusted her blindfold, making sure it was still secure. Next, he brushed her hair back from her face, smoothing the tangled strands. "Now are you ready for your punishment?"

She nodded once.

"I asked you a question." His tone was stern.

Buffy swallowed. "Yes?"


"Yes, sir?"

"Good girl. Now stand up."

With her hands still fastened together behind her back and wearing 4-inch heels, it was awkward for her to rise but she managed it with as much grace as possible. Standing quietly, she listened to the small shuffling noises as Angel – she guessed – was moving things around on his desk. A few seconds later he guided her over to the desk.

His hand on her back urged her forward. "Bend over."

With her heart pounding and butterflies in her stomach, Buffy slowly bent until her breasts were flush against the hard surface. She tensed as the leather end of the riding crop brushed the back of her calf and slid up her leg in a subtle caress. 

"Now, what did I tell you about going to San Gregorio?"  The crop glided across the rounded swell of her bottom then continued down the outside of her other thigh.

"You told me… to wait," she replied, a shiver racing up her spine. The sensations were confusing her senses, not knowing whether to expect pleasure or pain.

"Yes, I did. But what did you do?" The soft leather brushed her inner thigh just above the knee.

"I went anyway."

"That's right, you did. You went there alone even though I asked you not to." The crop glided steadily up her thigh, caressing. "And what happened?"

"I… almost got my heart cut out?" she whispered, cringing at the memory. The timing couldn't have been worse; Angel had to have shown up there just when the demon had gotten her pinned to the ground. She was grateful for his help of course, but she was still convinced that she would have triumphed eventually. Angel wasn't as certain and had been furious.  

"That's right." He tapped the inside of her leg. "Spread your legs."

Buffy felt a tremor race through her body at the softly uttered command. Her nipples hardened even more against the desk and she felt a surge of wetness between her legs as she obeyed.


She shifted again moving first one foot then the other. Her movements were almost languid, and entirely sensual. She was well aware that he was watching her every move intently.

His hand touched the small of her back for a brief moment as he reached for the tiny g-string that offered only scant covering of her now exposed sex. He tugged it down until it was stretched between her spread thighs just above her knees. It wasn't an obstruction to what was forthcoming, but the licentious image and accompanying feelings would add an additional spark to their game. The sight and scent of her permeated his senses, and his erection surged up a notch.  

"Now, how many people heard me tell you not to go?"  The riding crop brushed against her intimately, teasing her.


"Think Buffy, this is important." The smooth leather was rubbing against her insistently now, gradually increasing in pressure and arousing her mercilessly.

"Eight," she ventured, her breath coming in short pants as the leather end of the crop brushed over her clit again and again. Beneath the blindfold, her eyes were closed tightly against the bewitching sensations that were coursing through her heated flesh.

"Are you sure?"  The pleasurable stroking between her legs stopped suddenly and the crop dropped away.

Buffy focused on remembering the occupants in the Wolfram & Hart's lobby almost a week ago when the conversation had taken place. Gunn, Harmony, Wes, Fred, Lorne, Spike, the mail guy, and the guy that helped Fred out in the science lab… what was his name. Knots?  Oh, there had been another two lawyers passing through the lobby. Had they heard?  Would he count them? More pertinently, should she count them?

"Ten. Twelve if you include you and me." Her voice was stronger, more certain this time, though decidedly husky. She rocked her hips slightly, craving a return of the blissful caresses of seconds before.

"Good. And how many days has it been since then?" As if to reward her, Angel slid the riding crop between her legs once more and rubbed it firmly over the swollen nub of clit.

"Three," she murmured, writhing shamelessly against the smooth leather gliding steadily between her thighs.

"Hm… fifteen. That hardly seems like a worthy punishment, now does it?" He could barely say the words; his whole body focused on the undulating movements of her rounded hips and the visible wetness between her legs. He could see himself behind her, riding that hot, bucking, thrusting body so deep and so hard that he could no longer tell where she ended and he began.

Her breath hitched as the molten pleasure coursed through her veins. "No?"

"I think we should double it, don't you?" The crop dropped away leaving her just short of the elusive pleasure.  

At her stifled groan, he smiled.

"Yes, sure, anything." She arched her body and wiggled her bottom enticingly. She'd agreed to anything if he would touch her again.

"But you were very, very good," he mused almost absently, pleased with her capitulation. "No one has ever sucked my cock better than you do."

"Still, you have to learn your lesson. The one you came here for," he said, a casual authority drifting through his soft speech.

Before she had a chance to speak, the crop landed on her naked behind making Buffy gasp. The second and third blows landed before the first sparks of pain even began to register.

The next two stinging swats had her biting her lip. By the time he got to twelve, she couldn’t hold out any longer and a low cry escaped her lips. "Annngel! I brought… the scarf… for a gag."  

"I know you did, sweetheart," he rubbed her now light pink bottom with one hand almost soothingly. "But all those people waiting in the hall anxious to know what's going on… they have to hear you."

*smack* The crop descended again, lower this time, almost hitting her thigh.

"They have to know that you're not getting away with breaking the rules."


"If they don't…"

*smack* Another blow struck her, this time on her other cheek. She cried out, the low sound seemingly loud in the otherwise quiet office.

"Then it sort of defeats the purpose, don't you think?"


"I guess," she managed to croak, her bottom stinging more than she had thought possible. How many was that? God, could she take thirty?


Spike had heard the whispered rumors long before he approached the group gathered around Angel's office doors. If there was anyone at Wolfram & Hart that didn't know that Buffy was in Angel's office and that some sort of confrontation between the two of them was taking place he'd be surprised.  Still, he was curious enough about the exact happenings to wander down and check things out for himself – not that he'd admit to it, of course.

"Well, well, what've we here?" He asked as he approached, noting that in addition to the regular crew of Wes, Fred, Gunn, and Lorne, Harmony, Eve and a half dozen others from the office were gathered around curiously.

"Sh!" Harmony admonished with a frown, taking her ear away from the door only long enough to cast the blonde vampire a disgruntled look. "I can't hear if you're talking."

"And what exactly is it that you think you're hearing?" Spike queried somewhat acerbically. His vampiric hearing had picked up the sounds from almost two floors away, causing a slight rise in his pants. Being that he was still largely transparent most of the time, it was thankfully less than noticeable.

"I'm not sure exactly," Lorne answered, motioning for silence as he once more pressed his ear to the paneled wood. "But if I had to guess, it sounds like…" Frowning he leaned away from the door. "Well, it sounds like someone is getting a spanking."

"That so?"  With a lascivious grin, Spike walked through the wall.


Pausing at the intrusion, Angel looked up and met Spike's gaze.

"Angel?" Buffy breathed huskily after a moment, confused by the almost long pause in what had seemed to be a steady stream of spanks. 

Dark brown eyes locked with pale blue, Angel deliberately trailed the crop along Buffy's hip, around the curve of her bottom, then delicately guided it between her legs once more. "Yes, sweetheart?" Finding her damp cleft, he stroked her teasingly with the soft leather thong. Working her clit, the pleasurable caresses were at odds with the stinging pain of her bottom. Arousing her relentlessly, and so easily, her hips undulated rhythmically with the fluttering strokes.

"I… uh… are you… um… is that it?" She panted softly. Once again, just as she felt the onset of delicious shivers, he took the crop away.

His mouth quirked into a roguish smile. "Was that thirty?"

"N-No," she uttered in exasperation, grinding her hips back toward him. It was unclear if she was answering his question or expressing her displeasure at the loss of the exquisite sensations he had been provoking.

"Do you think the curious ones in the hall have been able to hear you?" he asked, gliding the crop up the back of her thigh with lingering slowness.

"I-I don't know."

"What if they were watching you instead? Admiring your perfect, firm ass… watching it turn a delicious shade of pink as I spank you… would you like that?"

"No," she murmured on a caught breath, the glowing heat in her body flaring at the licentious thought. "I don’t think so."

"Are you sure?" The crop brushed her bottom, drawing nearer to the seat of her pleasure.

Her breath hitched and she tensed, unsure whether to anticipate the next swat or another delicious caress of the leather rod where she craved it the most.



"Yes what?"

She hesitated briefly then answered directly. "I only want you… to see me."

"That's my girl." His tone was smug; it was what he wanted to hear. What he wanted Spike to hear.

"Now are you ready, babe?" he leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Because you know what I'm going to do to you afterwards, don't you?" The words were heated, bluntly sexual, and perhaps not a question at all.

"Yeeeesss," she hissed softly, as the smooth leather of the crop once more nudged her sex. He began to stroke with relentless pressure, the inexorable friction tantalizing, acute.  She whimpered in the back of her throat as her body convulsed and pure molten pleasure coursed through her body to puddle between her legs. "Please Angel… spank me… now, baby… please… give it to me… hurry" she babbled, her focus on the unquenched ache between her legs and the implicit promise in his voice.

Meeting Spike's gaze once more, Angel gave him a satisfied smirk worthy of Angelus. He was still resentful and jealous of the younger vampire's previous relationship with Buffy, and not above showing his grandchilde what he could not and would not have again. "Did you want something, Spike?"

Buffy tensed and started to stand, but Angel's hand firm on her back held her in place. She squirmed on the desk, shamed at the wild heat that streaked through her at the thought of being watched. "Angel…"

Spike's gaze raked over what he could see of Buffy's nearly naked form, taking obvious pleasure in the sight of her tied and bent over Angel's desk. His disgruntled expression left no doubt that he envied the elder vampire.

Angel lifted on eyebrow in question. "Well?"

"I heard the commotion in the hall and the way they were all going on," he jerked his thumb toward the wall behind him to indicate the small crowd that was now gathered in the hallway, "the two of you were having it out in here. I thought maybe I should check things out. Make sure everything was all right in here and all that."

"Uh-huh." Angel's tone was skeptical.

"I don't suppose you'd mind if I watch for a bit?  You know, only to let the others know that she's being properly disciplined for breaking the rules." Spike suggested helpfully, once more looking Buffy over.

"Yes, we would mind," Buffy muttered, annoyed. Despite her previous history with the blonde vampire, she felt flush with embarrassment throughout her entire body.

"I think you've seen enough. Get out." Angel's tone was dismissive, as was his expression. 


"You're right," Spike said to Lorne as he reappeared from the wall to Angel's office. He'd left not so much in deference to Angel's wishes - something he'd never willingly do anyway - but more because he didn't think he could stand watching Buffy with Angel. In the past months he had grudgingly accepted her choice and her relationship with the big poof, but that didn't mean that he liked visible reminders. Not that it mattered much, he told himself repeatedly, since he wasn't corporeal anyway and therefore unable to enjoy any sort of physical pleasures.

"About?" Fred asked, glancing from Spike to Lorne and back again.

Spike gave her a pointed look, his eyebrows lifting suggestively.

"He's spanking her? Angel is spanking Buffy?" Harmony fairly shrieked. "That's- that's like, barbaric or something."

"Why? You liked it," Spike smirked at his ex-girlfriend.

"But that was… it wasn't work, okay?" Harmony retorted, her hands on her hips. "That was, you know, during sex play. Oh. OH."

"Um, perhaps we should all just disperse," Wes said after clearing his throat and waving at the people loitering in the hall. If there had been any question about what was going on in Angel's office, Harmony's loud and shrill voice had just ensured that everyone within earshot was now well informed.

"That's not exactly punishment," Eve muttered jealously, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You're right. For some of us, it'd only encourage bad behavior," Spike countered with a grin. "But don't worry. I don't think you'll get the same sort of treatment should it come to that."

"Okay, I think I'll just go… back to work or something," Fred said, her cheeks now pink with embarrassment. In her haste, she turned and bumped directly into Wes and felt her embarrassment flame even more.

"What she said," Lorne added, pointing at Fred and whirling around only to bump into Gunn.

And yet, despite their statements, no one wandered more than a few feet away from Angel's office door.


"Now where were we?" Angel ran one hand over her bottom in rough caress.

"Interrupted," Buffy pouted, her earlier feelings of desire dulled slightly though far from extinguished.

"Let me think…" Angel mused, as if trying to gather his thoughts. "I remember now. I think we were right about here…"

Her body arched involuntarily as his fingers found her wet, swollen labia. He eased one finger, then a second into her succulent flesh as she moved against him in a silken undulation of liquid flesh and unchaste friction, forcing the nub of clitoris against his fingers.

"You're really wet, babe. Slippery wet…" He made small circles on her lubricated flesh and smiled at her stifled gasp.

"For you…" she whispered, moving her hips in a lush, sensuous undulation. Still blindfolded, her senses were completely attuned to the man behind her.

"I think you like being spanked," he murmured, his voice a silky, enthralling pulse, like the beating of her heart.  His fingers seized her clit, manipulating it dexterously.

"Maybe," she purred, her feeling concentrated in the heated core of her body. The heated burn of her bottom only added to the decadent pleasure.

"Maybe?" he repeated, his voice harsh and low, images of her like this with Riley or Spike invading his consciousness. His deft fingers continue to work her, driving her ever closer to the edge. "You've done this before?"

Buffy only whimpered softly, waves of carnal heat pulsing through her, orgasm, seconds, moments, away. 

"Answer me," he roughly breathed, his fingers stilled as the unwanted feelings of jealousy stung him.

"Nooo… no one else… never anyone else… only you…" she panted ravenously, the throbbing between her legs echoing through her brain and body, through every cell and nerve, the first shudders of her climax hovering just on the edge of consciousness.

Her words struck both man and demon with perverse emotion, base prerogatives and untamed urges of possessiveness and ownership coming to the fore. Tampering back his demonic urges, he forced his fingers deeper and ground out, "Is this what you want?"

"Mmm… yeesss," Buffy imperiously cried, as she shimmied and writhed on his fingers. She was finding it difficult to think with the wild, thrilling rapture gripping her senses. 

A low guttural sound escaped his lips. He closed his eyes briefly against the intensity of his own desires. Desires that would have to wait just a little longer. His cock throbbed, his own need building, threatening to erupt.

"Oh God, Angel," she moaned deep in her throat in a breathy exhalation of need, rocking back against him and wanting more. In thrall to unsated desire, the interruption of moments before receded to the back of her mind.

Her body jolted as his long fingers touched some sacred, secret part of her and she erupted so suddenly, so violently that he wasn't prepared for the intense, jerking of her body.

Angel held her hips tightly, his deft fingers working her, pulling every nuance of carnal sensation from her body before he finally let her pull away.

The waves of pleasure were still rippling through her when he brought the crop down once again on the rounded, still pink flesh of her bottom with a hard smack.

She gasped at the unexpected surprise and attempted to wriggle away but his hand on the small of her back stayed her.

The next several blows fell in rapid succession. When he was finally finished, her bottom and upper thighs were pink and stinging.

"Stay," he ordered, dropping the crop to the floor and reaching for the zipper on his pants. Wrenching them open with a fierce tug, he shoved them down and out of the way as he moved into position behind her.  The g-string that had been suspended between her knees was ripped off and tossed aside.

The hard, velvety tip of his cock rubbed her dripping sex. "Now you have to be quiet."

He thrust into her then and she keened softly. With eyes covered and her hands still tied behind her, and his large frame pinning her firmly to the desk, a feeling of helplessness that was so highly charged, so intensely erotic, filled her, causing her to melt completely beneath the overwhelming strength of him.

"If anyone hears you… they'll know I'm fucking you…" he grunted softly as he drove into her. Each hard thrust made her gasp for air, the breath being driven from her body.

"Yeeesss…" she keened softly, uncertain what statement exactly she was replying to. She rocked back against him in eager shameless longing, nearly mindless with the pleasure he provoked, an orgasmic flutter already pulsating deep inside her.  

He rode her hard, moving slowly, deeply. He didn't want to come just yet. He wanted more from her; he wanted her writhing beneath him in a gasping, panting, frenzied, hysterical passion.

A purely male guttural growl of satisfaction escaped his lips as he felt the first of her lush, shuddering convulsions surround him. Still, he continued his unrestrained rhythm throughout her orgasmic spasms, the entire force of his body behind each thrust. And she met him with her own wild, carnal urgency. Within seconds, she came again, crying out his name in violent climax.

With an intense, primordial satisfaction bombarding his senses, he plunged into her soft body again and again, bringing the peaking pleasure in her body to a racing, leaping swelling conclusion yet again. This time, her blissful, high-pitched scream brought the loiterers in the hall to full attention.


"Oh my," Lorne muttered, glancing at Wes and Fred who were now looking decidedly uncomfortable.

"Was that…" Fred blushed to the roots of her hair. "What I mean is, should we knock or something? If he's hurting her…"

"I don't think that was a cry of pain, love," Spike said, cocking his head slightly as if to listen. "No… definitely not pain."

"Really, we should all just go back to work," Wesley said, clearing his throat and shuffling his feet. He hoped no one noticed the bulge in his pants brought on by his imagings of what was going on behind the closed doors of Angel's office.

"And miss this?" Harmony asked with an incredulous look.

"Yeah, and miss this?" Spike repeated with a grin. He understood Wes's problem.

"Well, I'm going," Gunn declared.

"Go then," Harmony returned, pressing her ear against the door.

"I'm going." Gunn repeated, jutting his jaw out. But didn't move.

"I can't believe you're all listening to this," Eve retorted indignantly.

"You're still here," Spike replied, glancing at the Senior Partner Liaison.

"I'm here on business. I have to talk to Angel," Eve countered.

"You can forget it," Harmony said. "I was supposed to cancel all his appointments and calls until he said, and when he's in there with Buffy… well, you'll be lucky if you get in to see him even tomorrow."

"Yeah, pet, I'd have to agree. I doubt he's seeing anyone but Buffy for the rest of the day, a couple of 'em even. I can guarantee you that," the blonde vampire said as he looked longingly at the wall, wishing he was able to lean against it as he used to in casual, cool repose. That was, however, out of the question in his current state. He'd most likely just fall through it.

With a small 'humpf' sound, Eve stalked off down the hall.


Withdrawing from her, Angel lifted Buffy and turned her around almost before she knew what was happening. She felt the edge of her desk hit the back of her thighs.

"I'm not done yet," he told her softly, his fingertips tracing a path over her collarbone. His hand moved lower to toy with her nipples, pinching them until they hardened beneath his fingers. He bent his head and slowly took a nipple in his mouth, compressing his lips around the hard tip.

The liquid heat surged between her legs as he expertly sucked and squeezed, his fingers alternately tweaking and tugging her nipples in turn.  It was exquisite pleasure - hot, explosive and sweet.  

Without relinquishing his possession of her breast, he caught her around the waist with one arm and lifted her on the desk.

Buffy gasped at the pressure on her sore bottom.

Easing his mouth from her breast with a wet, sucking sound, he reached behind her and unclasped her wrists only to refasten them in front of her.

His lips settled on hers in a deep, blinding kiss as he pressed her back on the desk.  She sought his mouth again, but he moved away, denying her.

"Put your hands over your head."

She complied willingly, lifting her bound arms to rest on the desk above her head. At the touch of his hand, she spread her legs allowing him to step between them.

His hands roamed over her, caressing her throat, her breasts, her flat stomach and lingering between her thighs. He stroked her damp slit, playing with her clit, slipping his finger inside her and causing her to arch up against the luscious friction of his hand.

When he slid his sticky fingers against her lips, Buffy sucked them into her mouth, hungry for any part of him. The taste of herself only added to the building ardor.

Spreading her legs, he pushed them up and back until she was fully exposed to his gaze.

She squirmed slightly under his lascivious gaze, highly conscious that he watched her as she lay blindfolded, bound and almost naked before him.

And then she felt his tongue on her. Cool. Wet. Soft. Slowing lapping at each fold and contour.

Her breath hitched. Raw sensation whipped through Buffy's mind and body over and over again as he licked and nibbled, his fingers parting her for his exploration. Slipping inside, filling her, arousing her as he tongue continued lapping at the sensitive nub of her clit…

Her feet now braced on the desk, she arched up to meet his lips in a restless, tumultuous fever. She mewled softly as he found just… that… oh yes… that spot.

Angel sucked the tight aching bud of her clit between his lips, alternating with rapid, hungry flicks of his tongue. Taking her higher… pushing her to the very edge only to drop back and begin again until her desire had escalated to needy desperation. Only then, did he give her what she craved.

Panting heavily, Buffy surrendered to the explosive demand of her body, crying out as she came with an explosive, pulsing burst of pleasure that spiraled into a rapid succession of electrifying orgasms, each one more explosive than the one before, each one melting into the next.

Reaching up, he removed the blindfold from her eyes. He surveyed her pink-cheeked dishevelment, watching her as her panting cries slowly subsided and her breathing steadied.

Her lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes and looked up at him.

Sprawled on his desk, still clad in the black corset and stockings, her bound hands resting on the desk above her head, and her eyes heated with passion, she looked like a pagan sacrifice for his pleasure. Without a doubt, his desk had never looked better.

"Mmm… Angel," she languidly purred, her eyes drifting over his nude form. "You're perfection."

"And still not finished…" he murmured, his fingers moving lightly up and down his cock.

"You can't do that."

Pausing, he glanced up at her speculatively.

"It's mine," she whispered heatedly.

"Is it?" He asked as he guided himself into her drenched passage, his own degree of lust irrepressible. It had been too long, he was too close to the edge, and he wanted nothing more than to come in her hot, wet heat. Adjusting her hips slightly, he slid home with the ease of considerable practice.

Her answer was lost in a muffled moan as he drove into her, plunging so hard she slid across the desk. Lifting her legs over his forearms and grabbing her hips, he pulled her back to meet his next thrust. Riveting sensation overcame all thought. Leaning down, he began to whisper in her ear, telling her how much he loved having her tied and submissive to his every whim and pleasure. Telling her of other things he imagined doing with her and to her. As he glided in and out, the deep resonance of his voice continued to both lull and electrify her, carrying her ever higher with each whispered word.

The steadily increasing pace of thrust and withdrawal soon overwhelmed their senses, the universe seemingly centered on their joined bodies. Feelings of pure, unadulterated lust and wanton carnal pleasure intertwined with deep affection and rare, true love - making for an afternoon of unprecedented, unforgettable, and totally decadent delight.


"So did you learn your lesson?" Angel asked, helping her off the desk quite a while later.  A rare good humor lit his dark eyes.

Buffy peeked up at him from under her lashes. She wasn't at all sure if she'd sit comfortably for a week – or more – even with her Slayer healing. Though she knew it could have been much worse if he had really put his strength into those blows… but then again, that was a small price to pay for what had followed.

Still, she was the Slayer… She had a duty to do, just as he did. "But what if…"

"Buffy..." It was a familiar tone of warning that she recognized. His palm came to rest on her still lightly pink bottom.

"No," she answered petulantly, dropping her gaze.

With one finger, he lifted her chin forcing her to look up at him. "No what?"

"No, I won't do it again."

"It?" he prompted, rubbing circles on her butt with his palm.

She knew what he wanted. "I won't disobey your direct orders again." 

Behind her back, her fingers were crossed.  She loved the feeling of his domination of her more than she had thought possible; there was no way she was going to make a promise that would deny her such exquisite pleasure.

"Good." Angel said, a smile playing on his lips.  He knew she was lying; he would have been disappointed otherwise.

"Now get dressed." He smacked her bottom "So we can brazen our way through our audience in the hall."

Rubbing her abused posterior, Buffy stuck her tongue out at him playfully. "We could just take the elevator to our room and continue this…"

"And we will… after." He tugged on his pants. "You don't want to disappoint them, do you?"

A short while later, a suitably chastised but still pink-cheeked and disheveled looking Buffy opened the doors to Angel's office. Pausing dramatically, she dropped her gaze before stepping out into the hall. It was a small concession to make to ensure Angel's success at the evil law firm and one she would happily make. As often as possible in fact. She tried not to smile as the gathered crowd dispersed quickly, everyone trying to appear as if they had some business to attend to in the normally quiet hallway.

Behind her, she could hear Angel barking orders for everyone to return to work as he followed her out the door. Her thoughts drifted to the heated whispered promises he had made earlier and had repeated again just before she opened the door. She shivered in anticipation.

If nothing else, life at Wolfram & Hart was proving to be far from dull. 

* End. *

| Fiction Index | Home Page | Back |