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The Velvet Whip by angelskuuipo
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Author's Notes:
This was started many moons ago as a gift to the ever so fabulous Gabrielle, but I couldn’t figure out how to go on. Then I realized that this stands pretty well as is. I hope you like it, darlin’.

Taking one last look in the mirror Willow turned away, muttering to herself, “This is a really, really bad idea.” She smoothed a slightly shaking hand over her ultra-short black leather skirt as she walked towards the door to her room still muttering. “Why couldn’t Angel hire a professional? That would have made more sense, but nooo I’m the only one he trusts since Buffy won’t speak to him, Faith’s in prison, and Cordelia is too recognizable with her face plastered to hell and gone on billboards across the country. Oh, and I was the one she saw with Angel in her vision. Lovely, just lovely.”

She opened the door to find Angel standing on the other side, one eyebrow raised in question and a slight smirk on his handsome face. He opened his mouth to say something about her self-babble, but it wound up just hanging open as he took in the redhead’s appearance. Her shoulder-length hair was slightly curled and tousled, giving her a just-been-ravished kind of look and her makeup was dark and sultry, a term Angel never really thought he would apply to his shy friend. Even Willow’s vampire doppelganger hadn’t brought the term sultry to mind.

He let his dark gaze travel down and his mouth snapped closed with an audible click. Holy Hell. Willow wore a butter soft black leather bustier that ended well above her belly button, showing off her piercing, and when did she get that done? Angel’s eyes lingered on the silver hoop for another moment before going lower and he swallowed hard. She was almost wearing a black leather skirt and a pair of high heeled, thigh high, black suede boots. Her legs seemed to go on forever and one suede-encased foot was tapping out a sharp staccato beat.

Willow cleared her throat and Angel snapped his gaze back to her face. She had her arms crossed over her chest, God help him, pushing her breasts up enticingly. She was also glaring and that wasn’t good. Cocking one eyebrow, Willow asked, “Are you done?”

Thankful he couldn’t blush, Angel stuttered out, “Uh, s-sorry Will, but…damn. You look amazing.”

“I look like a whore, or a vampire’s pet which is the point of this whole exercise.” She dropped her arms and looked down at herself. “I don’t think I can do this, Angel. You need someone with the confidence to wear this kind of stuff and act all tough. You need Faith.”

Angel stepped closer and lifted her chin, making her look at him, “I need you. You’ll be fine, Willow. We’ve gone over how you’re supposed to act and you’ve got it down. I’m not too thrilled with putting you in this situation either, but you’re the only one. You’ve got all the skills we need for this job.” His fingers drifted over her face as he spoke, “You’re beautiful, you’re brilliant, and you’ve got the computer and magick know-how to take these guys down. Just remember that you’re a badass Wicca and hacker. You’ve taken down a covert government agency, a Hell god, and brought a Slayer back from the dead. Demonic drug dealers should be a piece of cake.” That got a small smile from her.

“And you don’t look like a whore. Vampire’s pet, maybe, you need bite marks and a collar for that to work, also the acting submissive and that, I know you’re not. Tonight’s the dress rehearsal and tomorrow we meet the contacts. If we can find out who’s making those drugs, we’ll be able to stop them.” He placed a chaste, reassuring kiss on her lips and pulled back, smiling slightly. “Ready?”

Willow blinked at the feel of Angel’s lips on hers. He really had changed since leaving Sunnydale. LA has been good for him, she thought. She remembered a time when he wouldn’t even think about touching her hand let alone kiss her. Frowning slightly at the direction of her thoughts, Willow looked Angel over and whistled lowly. They were going to be quite the pair tonight.

The vampire was dressed in what she thought of as his Angelus-wear: a tight, blood red velvet shirt that was unbuttoned enough to give her very un-Willow-y thoughts about how his skin would taste and black leather pants that left no doubt in anyone’s mind just how well built Angel was. His three-quarter-length black leather coat and boots completed his ensemble.

She looked up at him from under her lashes. “Where exactly are we going tonight?”

Angel sucked in a breath at her look and reached for her red cashmere sweater coat. He helped her into it as he answered, “It’s a mixed club called The Velvet Whip. If you can make it through an evening there, tomorrow night will be a picnic.”

Willow grabbed her purse and accepted the arm Angel offered her. She asked as they walked to the elevators, “What’s so special about this club?”

Angel glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “It’s an S&M club.”


Head high, shoulders back, don’t let them see how terrified you are. Willow chanted her mantra silently over and over. An S&M club, Angel was taking her to a club where people and demons partook in all manner of the kinky and she had no idea how she was going to handle this. Thank the Goddess they weren’t in LA. The thought of anyone she might be remotely acquainted with seeing her in such a place was almost enough to send her running screaming in the opposite direction.

As their cab pulled up to their destination, Willow thought back to her vampire double. As wigged as she had been by that encounter, she had learned some things about herself. She did have it in her to be a confident, sensual person. All she had to do was unearth that part of her self and she just might get through this in tact.

Her door was opened and Angel stood holding his hand out to her. Willow took a deep breath and placed her hand in his. As she got out of the cab she noticed several men and women looking at her and not in a bad way. All of them looked her up and down in appreciation and she felt her confidence solidify a little more. She stood a little taller and smiled up at Angel as he put a possessive hand on her waist and escorted her to the entrance.

They entered the club and Willow was transported to another world. Black leather and dark jeweled toned velvets made up the décor. Semi-private alcoves, tables, and small stages were scattered around the first floor and the second looked to be more of the same. A massive bar took up one wall and the music pouring from the sound system pulsed with a life of its own, not quite managing to cover the sounds of sex and submission. Demons and humans alike mingled in relative peace. Doms and their subs put on shows on the stages and sat talking at the tables or taking advantage of the large dance floor. Willow was fascinated.

Angel watched his friend carefully, wanting to make sure she wasn’t going to bolt. He needn’t have worried, he thought as he led her to a secluded booth. As she watched the scene around her, Angel ordered drinks for them both and sat back to observe. The demons they were meeting with the next evening were notorious for their slaves and he needed to make sure Willow would be able to handle seeing that type of lifestyle, hence the visit to The Whip.

It had been a long time since he’d been in a place like this and Angel’s demon stirred at the sights and sounds surrounding them. The crack of a whip, the cry of pleasure/pain from the recipient, the sight of a willing slave following its master, of receiving a punishment or a reward, it all served to bring Angelus a little closer to the surface. Angel breathed deeply in an effort to calm down and inhaled a most intoxicating scent. Willow.

He looked at her closely in the dim light. Her face was lightly flushed and her breathing was shallow. She was aroused. Angel’s eyebrow went up as he followed her line of sight, wanting to see what had brought this reaction about. He had expected Willow to be disgusted, but resigned to what was going on around her. He hadn’t expected her to be turned on.

Angel’s eyes lit on a stage not too far from them. A woman, similar in coloring to Willow and wearing a very short black dress, sat on a straight-backed chair with her legs spread wide. A man, naked save for a collar and some sort of leather harness, knelt between her legs, hands bound behind him as he buried his head between her thighs. Occasionally, the woman would strike him with a soft cat o’ nine tails, causing him to flinch slightly and adjust his position. Eventually, the woman released the man’s hands and he grabbed her hips pulling her to the edge of the chair. The woman buried her hands in her slave’s hair and threw her head back as she climaxed. She pushed the man away from her and he sprawled on his back before her.

Willow gasped when she saw the man’s rigid angry purple cock trussed up like a Christmas turkey. The harness he was wearing looped around his cock and balls, preventing him from coming and it was readily apparent that he had been denied release for some time. The man looked to be in quite a bit of pain. She looked at the woman towering over him and waited to see what she would do.

Willow could vaguely feel Angel watching her, but she was too wrapped up in the scene to really care. Then the woman moved and Willow forgot about her friend sitting next to her.

The woman smiled almost lovingly at her slave and reached down to undo the harness. She whispered something to the man and- with a look of complete adoration on his face- he came without the woman ever touching him. He lay there gasping for breath for a moment before rolling to his hands and knees and crawling to kiss his mistress’ feet. The woman picked up her slave’s lead and led him from the stage to a smattering of applause.

Willow took a shuddering breath and jumped slightly when she felt Angel caressing her neck. He leaned in close and whispered, “What about that act turned you on, Willow? Was it the mistress controlling her slave’s pleasure? Of being in control, or was it the man, helpless but to do her bidding? Which were you, Willow, master or slave?”

She closed her eyes and moaned softly as Angel’s seductive words and touch washed over her. She thought about what he had asked and had to be honest. Willow opened her eyes and looked at Angel. He was very close, their lips only a hairsbreadth apart. She looked him in the eye and said, “It was both, Angel. The thought of being in control, but also of being able to give up control turned me on. To have that level of trust with another person…that is a gift.”

Angel nodded in understanding. He could see how both sides of this particular coin would intrigue Willow. But, “What do you want more, Willow? To be in control or not?”

Willow blinked. What was she doing, having a conversation like this with her best friend’s ex-boyfriend? This was Angel! She looked away and reached for her drink.

Angel allowed her to take a sip before he removed it from her hand and captured her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Answer me, Willow. What do you want more, to be master or slave?”

Willow narrowed her eyes and tried to move away, but Angel still held her chin and wrapped his other arm around her, holding her in place. “Why are you doing this, Angel?” She hissed.

“Because I can smell your arousal and it’s driving me crazy. It’s been a long time since I’ve been anywhere near a place like this and Angelus wants to come out and play.” Angel easily lifted Willow until she was straddling his lap and caught her wrists behind her back. He smiled darkly as she struggled against him and bent his head to her neck. He placed nipping kisses along her shoulder and up to her ear, relishing the hitching of her breath and the heat he could feel between her thighs. In between nibbling on her earlobe, he said, “Because you want to know what it’s like to be in one of those positions and I’m going to teach you. All you have to do is tell me what you want. It’s a simple question, really. Master or slave?”

Willow jerked her head away from Angel’s teasing mouth and glared at him. He looked at her with gold-flecked eyes and a lazy, challenging smile on his face. This was not the Angel she knew, but Willow had to admit she was intrigued. She studied him closely; trying to figure out if he was just teasing her, but that would be cruel and Angel had never struck her as being cruel. Angelus, oh hell yeah, but not Angel.

He looked very serious and as she adjusted her position on his lap, Willow abruptly became aware of just how serious he was. Her green eyes widened and her mouth formed a little ‘o’ of surprise. Angel groaned and his grip on her wrists tightened reflexively. Willow made her decision and leaned forward, capturing Angel’s lips in a heated kiss, their tongues tangling and battling for dominance.

When she pulled away to breathe, Willow whispered a few words and Angel suddenly found his arms pinned to his sides and a smirking witch sitting on his lap. He looked at her warily as she leaned towards him and moved the collar of his shirt aside. Angel’s hips bucked up when she bit sharply on his neck then groaned harshly when she whispered into his ear, “Master.”

Skin Design by Amy

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