Beigy and Smutty
Jul. 4th, 2009 02:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cordy69STRONG KINK - PLEASE DO NOT READ MORE, IN PARTICULAR THE CONCLUSION IF YOU CAN BE OFFENDED - THANK YOU IN ADVANCE
This is an incomplete work that needs work, however I am posting here everything that I have so far so I can think about fixing the development, characterization and conclusion later on.
Nominated at Sunnydale Awards (Fall 2011)
Beigy and Smutty, by Pat
Title: Beigy and Smutty
Author: Pat aka Cordy69
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3119
Beige Angel Prologue ~
The light steps entering the Hyperion were all I needed to hear to breath again. I don’t need to breath but those last weeks with Cordelia were wearisome. The bliss of her return quickly replaced by the misunderstandings, miscommunications, missed opportunities to take it from where we left of, somewhere on that ocean buff…
Death separated us; and now Death was quite the enemy to beat.
Losing Buffy was a significant lesson. She was the first person that made me care to pursue life after I was ensouled, the first to love me, the first to give me a purpose after a hundred years of a bleak, meaningless existence. And, I survived her. I lived feeling her absence, I lived not feeling her anymore in this world, and I continued to exist. I will never know how much of this was due to the family awaiting my return at home but I know it mattered.
When I lost Cordy, it was like a freight train ran over me. The coma was almost a blessing because I did not have to face how much I failed her. My missions, my needs, made her the target of Jasmine, and my lack of preparation allowed the mind rape to go on. It perverted my son, it perverted me, and it lost us Cordy.
I’ve been living with more than her death since then, mostly with my guilt. She lashed at me for not protecting Wesley, and Gunn, her dear brothers, she cried for Fred, maybe even for me. The harsh words covered her pain, her incredulity at seeing her whole world annihilated and I couldn’t defend myself, I wouldn’t because I believe in every one of them.
The problem is that I also believe that the Powers that be are the fucking bastards that helped bury me. When they used one of my loved one against me, one more time, the only thing raising above the red anger was revenge.
There is a limit to how much rejection one can take, and seeing Cordelia so eager to go back to her heaven was not a blow to my ego, nooo, it was a blow to my love. I would give her anything; everything. She refused.
If I was sure she was refusing me for the right reasons I would be the first one to give anything, everything to the Powers that Be to make my Cordy happy. The freakin’ Powers decided to make her sing instead… her happiness against mine. Never.
I’ll fight them both. From now on Angel’s happiness is the only and paramount work order of the day, every day. It stops being about what everyone else wants, it becomes and stays about what I want. What I need is for Cordy to stay by me. What I want is for Cordy to love me. What I will do is to force Cordy to become addicted to me the way I am addicted to her.
For me Cordy is above friendship, passion, love, and death: she is my raison d’etre. Nothing is a more powerful strength, a more powerful purpose and it is damn time that she realizes it and shares it. No matter the means.
Cordelia's Prologue, Pat.
So close. I was so close to see the end of this. And now, I have to be one more time second to Buffy. What is so wrong with me that I have one way or the other to re-enact something Miss Slay-a-lot did better?
I hate the fact I was returned.
I hoped I could let go of my resentment; it was obviously stronger than I gave it credit. More than being returned, it’s the way I died that breaks me, each time I am remembering the events that lead to it my heart races, my mind splinter.
I wasn’t born with the burning need to help any helpless, but I have always been loyal to my friends. That trait was devastating me when thinking about what happened to my new-formed family in Los Angeles.
In the back of my little heart I did not believe in happily ever after but I couldn’t stop hoping. The loss of Connor to Holtz, the banishment of Wesley, and everything else all makes looking in my past a dreadful exercise in masochism. Along the path, every tear, every loss, every accomplishment looked like one bigger step towards fitful fates. I never would have admitted defeat but life was just bigger than me.
Now, I was happy where I was, not overly happy but the weather was great, the hunks were gorgeous, the pleasures to experience varied. Why would I get back to a bleak world in which the man I used to love and for which I would have given my life is redefining his dark period?
I know. I still love him. Is it the idea of him or him, the manpire that I am infatuated with? Will I ever find out if there too I am second to Buffy? Will I ever get to see him drop all his defenses and give us a chance? Will I give him a chance?
I suppose that is why I am here tonight. I agreed to his stupid request. I agreed to see the good he could offer because I am sure I definitively saw the bad. Maybe not though, he seemed so intense these last meetings. I felt like he could devour me and choke me at the same time. Both were welcome and matched my own feelings. He is so much more than anyone else I’ve ever met, and so distressing than anybody else. He begged and then he imposed, and I liked both aspects, I know I can take both facets of him. I am here to prove it to him. I won’t back down, no matter what he dishes; I’ll fight for him; I’ll fight for me; I will fight for us and any potential future we can create. After all, can any of us afford not living the chance we got?
~~~~~***~~~~~~
My muse as I said is not particularly helpful in any way, however it dreamed one of this marathon night and here it is:
NIGHT ONE, by Pat
FOR MATURE AUDIENCE
It was late, for her at least. Since her return from the Higher Realm, it has been a fight of every day to stay grounded. Wolfram and Hart and the Fang Gang in the same sentence were just a notion still too incomprehensible to fathom for a returning Cordelia. However the price to pay for an upcoming peace is yet to pay. Whatever she may dream of stands behind the trial awaiting her on the other side of this door.
Ten minutes passed and she was still standing there, unsure. Queen C was now a demon with more power than she had ever imagined possessing, she became who she was for the one waiting on the other side of the finely crafted door. How could a young girl dreams turn so wrong? She strained to hear anything but the wild thumping of her heart covered anything she might have picked. Decisively, she lowered the door handle and set foot in his territory, in his care or maybe not.
“Hello Cordelia, you’ve finally found the courage to face your promise?” Angel drawled from the bed.
He was lying on the silk cover, his side carved by the high flames coming from the fireplace. She couldn’t read his gaze but she felt it roaming, gauging, possessing. A few more steps and she was standing by him, with a regal air meant to show him that she believed she was still in control of her destiny. His feet touched ground and the vee formed encased the space she was in. He turned her slowly, gently, as taking measure of her shapely frame.
She couldn’t help but feel phased by his approach. She thought they would fight or at least argue, but he was just taking what was his. Pulling a small satiny clothe from under his pillow she realized, even more surprised, that he was actually blindfolding himself. What could he have in mind? Why wasn’t he talking or even taunting? Cordelia was left alone facing this mysterious stranger, not her Angel. A lost and perverted soul that will soon take advantage of her, her past loves and friendships and hopes.
He was blind from sight, but seeing through all his other senses. He listened to the rapid heartbeat in her chest, he smelled the rich blood cursing in her vein, and he tasted the salty sweat beads over her curvy breasts. With the hunger of a deprived man, he attacked the buttons of her shirt with his blunt teeth, freeing her from the confines. His hands tugged at the waist line of her Capri pants and worked them down and away from her.
She tried to stay as quiet as possible but the warm glow on his skin, the delicate handling of her undressing was hard to resist. Was she facing her best and shy friend? Could she close her eyes and imagine long lost opportunities or will she find herself facing a monster defiling both of them? She could not stop the trembling.
He hoped it wasn’t too cold for her, that she was trembling because of how it felt being touched by him. He did not want to know for certain; as long as his eyes were blind he could pretend. She did not hate him, she wanted this.
The pole tenting his lounging pants wasn’t getting any smaller. It became evident that some action had to come soon, there were some needs to assuage. His large palms on her buttock brought her to his mouth in one single movement. The small calluses were roughening her tender skin but also making her more alive, receptive to his touch. His mouth was nuzzling in her curls, his nose breathing in her scent, his tongue flickering over the hood of her clit still hiding. Nothing could stop him now, except maybe her cries of pain. He did not want to hear those, not today. Today, he wants her to acknowledge him and his need for her, and for her to love him and cherish him, and give him the peace he needs in this restless life. He will work all night for this.
He started by sucking her large nipples, lathing one, catching it, pulling it and then moving to the other. Nothing hard or determined, just the equivalent of small talk, an acquaintance really with her beautiful body. His hand never stopped kneading the firm globes of her ass, opening her to the attention soon coming. When he felt her knees buckle he started caressing every inch of skin available. Locking her waist he positioned her to straddle him. His pants were getting wet by the minute, his seed slowly seeping from him, her wetness joining him quietly. All his energy was spent not bucking but instead discovering her. His mouth latched on her pulse, sucking her skin, creating the mother of all hickeys. His fingers found her clit and played with it, enticing it to come out of hiding. His thighs were opening to make her more accessible to him. Hearing her catchy breathing was enthralling him. His whole body was tensing, his fangs were itching, ridges appeared underneath the blindfold but nothing mattered anymore, his vampire was coming to play.
Taking her all in his enfolding embrace, they rolled on the comfy bed. A hand on her neck kept her calm while he was discarding the pants. Gloriously naked, hard like a bow, he licked his way around her upper body. The tangy hairline, the ear shells, the column of her long neck arching to meet his rough tongue, the ticklish spot inside her elbow, the soft swell of her breast under her arm, the tight stomach protecting her navel, every spot was marked by his scent. Thick fingers were pulling at wet curls, warping them, tugging them, straightening them. Angel sex was beating out its own rhythm against her thigh, marking the inexorability of what was to come. Blood was pulling close by, still not enough to bring anyone release.
He could have done it. The man was at her navel and wouldn’t finish the job. How hard can it be to bring her to climax with that skilful mouth of his? He hadn’t kissed her or talked to her since she entered. He had bothered her body but most importantly her mind. How can her body betray her to his tormentor? Why wouldn’t he try to plead his case, get them started on a more natural path?
She would teach him a lesson. Cavemen get what they need; a knee in the groin will clarify his hazy mind and set some points straight, but maybe not right now. The mixture of pain and pleasure coming from his fingers’ work cannot help one to think clearly, Perspiration makes her shine, render her sleek between his limbs, in a morally hellish place in a heavenly physical setting. Her body wanted to be joined with her captor, her mind wanted to send him to hell; sunnyhell is just not close enough, and not what it used to be either.
She accepted the bargain but what a heavy toll it was exacting. How would she face herself tomorrow if she took pleasure in his touch today? She knew this Angel wasn’t the Angelus of her youth but would he press his advantage? Pursue her physically and mentally the way his soulless version would have? Drain her of her hopes, courage, and blood? A sharp intrusion brought her back to the current predicament. A middle finger was now in her core. She shuddered, clamping even harder on it. With short whimpers she begged him to take it out. His answer was to seesaw it demanding that she begged him instead to take her whole. Upset, embarrassed, flushed she still did as asked and whispered more than anything else “Please Angel, make love to me!”
With his strength and dexterity, he had her folding over his forearms, open to his gaze, her lower body resting on his hunched thighs. She was utterly self-conscious of how appalling this whole endeavor was and decided to count her blessing: at least he wasn’t seeing her. However she was looking at him. He was sensing her agitation and slowly started to talk to her.
“You smell so good baby! How can you try to deprive me of this? Your skin is soft like silk, warm like sunlight, and all of it is for me. I love the roundness of your breast, the full tips of your nipples. I can’t wait to feel your long and strong legs around me, holding me to you, forcing me to stay home” All and much more becoming a litany lulling her into believing that this coupling could be love.
“Don’t cry baby, please don’t” he cooed to her, licking the salty secretions, kissing her supple lips, tasting the warmth of her mouth. He drove her mad biting those full nipples, the tip of his hard length poised at her entrance. Patience was his bigger strength. He was going to let her come to him. Until then, the vamp in him had to taste her. Going back to her slender neck, he roughly kiss her pulsing point, lapped at it until his lengthen teeth slightly pinched the prepared spot and cleanly pinned her beneath him, her life blood filling his world.
The lighting stroked her, he bit her. It hurt like hell but the sucking action was bringing her to heaven. How could it be? The one thing she was the most afraid of was suddenly becoming the most erotic thing she ever experienced. Her skin was sensitive everywhere, her mind was in shamble only wishing for more of this. Without a thought she surge on his waiting manhood, impaling herself and clamping on his thickness.
“Oh gawd! Please let me live this down!’ both coarse voices exclaimed. The warmth and fullness coming from the joining and mingling with the blood flow was above anything each imagined. Finally capable of thinking Angel, closed the small opening on her throat, kissed it gently while moving in her sheathed core with long and sure strokes. He couldn’t see it but her desire was liquid and pouring all around his shaft, her muscles were milking him rhythmically; her breath was irregular along his neck, nothing to tell him she wasn’t enjoying this as much as he did. With more speed than his mind wished he used, his body took possession of her. Building her passion and his own, pushing her limits, driving him insane. He had resisted for so long he couldn’t wait anymore, arching his lower back, entering her with all his might, he pulsated close to his release, sending his fingers to replace him, he pulled out and stretched in one long possession into her anus. She cried out but that was already lost in his mouth, reverberating along his fangs, ringing in his brain, bringing him so much closer to the ultimate pleasure. Embedded in her, he let his fingers find her G-spot and lightly caress it, until her own sex squeezing them pushed him over the edge and he spilled everything he had in hot and powerful jets in her, cooling her roughened insides and starting the fire of her own release. His mouth nibbling her breasts, three fingers servicing her, his sex stretching her. There was no way to hold the explosion of her senses and body, she flew skyward, a white glow surrounding them, her eyes glazed and dark from passion she tried to focus on Angel and come back to reality. It took him as much energy. He came back from it faster, taking the blindfold away looking at her with fear, love and hunger. The small amount of blood around his sex was enough to keep the demon in him going and he decided to withdraw before he could regain his full size, wanting to provide her with a semblance of relief.
Silently, he stretched out on her side, gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead and whispered while leaving: “Rest well Cordy, because I’ll meet you right here at your next vision.” And with that he dropped the blindfold, already turned away from her spent body, closing calmly the door on his bulky, sweaty and satiated form.
Finally Cordelia opened her eyes.
The end of night one.
~*~
The original idea came from a challenge posted by Cyd at TIO. The idea was fabulous and inspired my smutty muse. there is only one problem, I am first still new at writing, which means that I have no particular discipline, sense of timing, or knowledge of how to make a story evolve, or even outline chapters. The second problem is that I decided to take Lysa workshop on smut so I could learn how to write a good one, but this stumbled in my brain before I could have the time to do all the steps, and more so learn and pratice on those skills.
This being a package kind of makes it more difficult to judge in an exercise, so I am posting here the whole chapter I wrote and beg for some helpful crit, something that can help me move forward. Of course I want to hear about anything that is fixable in characterization, grammar, story development, etc. as for the premise I am not changing anything as it is what my mind translated from the challenge itself.
As well, I determined that I can't take the challenge because it's one of those marvelous idea that deserve a full blown story, if possible written in multiple chapters in the course of a couple of months. In my case, with some luck it may take me a year and I can't promise it will be good. Being conscious of my limitations I really want to invite anyone reading the challenge to run with it and write it soon, cause I really like the idea.
Before I post the challenge and my part let me point out that this deal with a VERY Beigy Angel and a Disillusioned Cordelia. It's not especially romantic or fluffy, and that might be one of the reason of my downfall, on top of practicing in learning how to write smut, I have to learn how to write Beigy Angel.
If you are under 18, please do not go forward, thank you.
{C}
community.livejournal.com/rwsawards/30717.html
This is an incomplete work that needs work, however I am posting here everything that I have so far so I can think about fixing the development, characterization and conclusion later on.
Nominated at Sunnydale Awards (Fall 2011)
Beigy and Smutty, by Pat
Title: Beigy and Smutty
Author: Pat aka Cordy69
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3119
Beige Angel Prologue ~
The light steps entering the Hyperion were all I needed to hear to breath again. I don’t need to breath but those last weeks with Cordelia were wearisome. The bliss of her return quickly replaced by the misunderstandings, miscommunications, missed opportunities to take it from where we left of, somewhere on that ocean buff…
Death separated us; and now Death was quite the enemy to beat.
Losing Buffy was a significant lesson. She was the first person that made me care to pursue life after I was ensouled, the first to love me, the first to give me a purpose after a hundred years of a bleak, meaningless existence. And, I survived her. I lived feeling her absence, I lived not feeling her anymore in this world, and I continued to exist. I will never know how much of this was due to the family awaiting my return at home but I know it mattered.
When I lost Cordy, it was like a freight train ran over me. The coma was almost a blessing because I did not have to face how much I failed her. My missions, my needs, made her the target of Jasmine, and my lack of preparation allowed the mind rape to go on. It perverted my son, it perverted me, and it lost us Cordy.
I’ve been living with more than her death since then, mostly with my guilt. She lashed at me for not protecting Wesley, and Gunn, her dear brothers, she cried for Fred, maybe even for me. The harsh words covered her pain, her incredulity at seeing her whole world annihilated and I couldn’t defend myself, I wouldn’t because I believe in every one of them.
The problem is that I also believe that the Powers that be are the fucking bastards that helped bury me. When they used one of my loved one against me, one more time, the only thing raising above the red anger was revenge.
There is a limit to how much rejection one can take, and seeing Cordelia so eager to go back to her heaven was not a blow to my ego, nooo, it was a blow to my love. I would give her anything; everything. She refused.
If I was sure she was refusing me for the right reasons I would be the first one to give anything, everything to the Powers that Be to make my Cordy happy. The freakin’ Powers decided to make her sing instead… her happiness against mine. Never.
I’ll fight them both. From now on Angel’s happiness is the only and paramount work order of the day, every day. It stops being about what everyone else wants, it becomes and stays about what I want. What I need is for Cordy to stay by me. What I want is for Cordy to love me. What I will do is to force Cordy to become addicted to me the way I am addicted to her.
For me Cordy is above friendship, passion, love, and death: she is my raison d’etre. Nothing is a more powerful strength, a more powerful purpose and it is damn time that she realizes it and shares it. No matter the means.
Cordelia's Prologue, Pat.
So close. I was so close to see the end of this. And now, I have to be one more time second to Buffy. What is so wrong with me that I have one way or the other to re-enact something Miss Slay-a-lot did better?
I hate the fact I was returned.
I hoped I could let go of my resentment; it was obviously stronger than I gave it credit. More than being returned, it’s the way I died that breaks me, each time I am remembering the events that lead to it my heart races, my mind splinter.
I wasn’t born with the burning need to help any helpless, but I have always been loyal to my friends. That trait was devastating me when thinking about what happened to my new-formed family in Los Angeles.
In the back of my little heart I did not believe in happily ever after but I couldn’t stop hoping. The loss of Connor to Holtz, the banishment of Wesley, and everything else all makes looking in my past a dreadful exercise in masochism. Along the path, every tear, every loss, every accomplishment looked like one bigger step towards fitful fates. I never would have admitted defeat but life was just bigger than me.
Now, I was happy where I was, not overly happy but the weather was great, the hunks were gorgeous, the pleasures to experience varied. Why would I get back to a bleak world in which the man I used to love and for which I would have given my life is redefining his dark period?
I know. I still love him. Is it the idea of him or him, the manpire that I am infatuated with? Will I ever find out if there too I am second to Buffy? Will I ever get to see him drop all his defenses and give us a chance? Will I give him a chance?
I suppose that is why I am here tonight. I agreed to his stupid request. I agreed to see the good he could offer because I am sure I definitively saw the bad. Maybe not though, he seemed so intense these last meetings. I felt like he could devour me and choke me at the same time. Both were welcome and matched my own feelings. He is so much more than anyone else I’ve ever met, and so distressing than anybody else. He begged and then he imposed, and I liked both aspects, I know I can take both facets of him. I am here to prove it to him. I won’t back down, no matter what he dishes; I’ll fight for him; I’ll fight for me; I will fight for us and any potential future we can create. After all, can any of us afford not living the chance we got?
~~~~~***~~~~~~
My muse as I said is not particularly helpful in any way, however it dreamed one of this marathon night and here it is:
NIGHT ONE, by Pat
FOR MATURE AUDIENCE
It was late, for her at least. Since her return from the Higher Realm, it has been a fight of every day to stay grounded. Wolfram and Hart and the Fang Gang in the same sentence were just a notion still too incomprehensible to fathom for a returning Cordelia. However the price to pay for an upcoming peace is yet to pay. Whatever she may dream of stands behind the trial awaiting her on the other side of this door.
Ten minutes passed and she was still standing there, unsure. Queen C was now a demon with more power than she had ever imagined possessing, she became who she was for the one waiting on the other side of the finely crafted door. How could a young girl dreams turn so wrong? She strained to hear anything but the wild thumping of her heart covered anything she might have picked. Decisively, she lowered the door handle and set foot in his territory, in his care or maybe not.
“Hello Cordelia, you’ve finally found the courage to face your promise?” Angel drawled from the bed.
He was lying on the silk cover, his side carved by the high flames coming from the fireplace. She couldn’t read his gaze but she felt it roaming, gauging, possessing. A few more steps and she was standing by him, with a regal air meant to show him that she believed she was still in control of her destiny. His feet touched ground and the vee formed encased the space she was in. He turned her slowly, gently, as taking measure of her shapely frame.
She couldn’t help but feel phased by his approach. She thought they would fight or at least argue, but he was just taking what was his. Pulling a small satiny clothe from under his pillow she realized, even more surprised, that he was actually blindfolding himself. What could he have in mind? Why wasn’t he talking or even taunting? Cordelia was left alone facing this mysterious stranger, not her Angel. A lost and perverted soul that will soon take advantage of her, her past loves and friendships and hopes.
He was blind from sight, but seeing through all his other senses. He listened to the rapid heartbeat in her chest, he smelled the rich blood cursing in her vein, and he tasted the salty sweat beads over her curvy breasts. With the hunger of a deprived man, he attacked the buttons of her shirt with his blunt teeth, freeing her from the confines. His hands tugged at the waist line of her Capri pants and worked them down and away from her.
She tried to stay as quiet as possible but the warm glow on his skin, the delicate handling of her undressing was hard to resist. Was she facing her best and shy friend? Could she close her eyes and imagine long lost opportunities or will she find herself facing a monster defiling both of them? She could not stop the trembling.
He hoped it wasn’t too cold for her, that she was trembling because of how it felt being touched by him. He did not want to know for certain; as long as his eyes were blind he could pretend. She did not hate him, she wanted this.
The pole tenting his lounging pants wasn’t getting any smaller. It became evident that some action had to come soon, there were some needs to assuage. His large palms on her buttock brought her to his mouth in one single movement. The small calluses were roughening her tender skin but also making her more alive, receptive to his touch. His mouth was nuzzling in her curls, his nose breathing in her scent, his tongue flickering over the hood of her clit still hiding. Nothing could stop him now, except maybe her cries of pain. He did not want to hear those, not today. Today, he wants her to acknowledge him and his need for her, and for her to love him and cherish him, and give him the peace he needs in this restless life. He will work all night for this.
He started by sucking her large nipples, lathing one, catching it, pulling it and then moving to the other. Nothing hard or determined, just the equivalent of small talk, an acquaintance really with her beautiful body. His hand never stopped kneading the firm globes of her ass, opening her to the attention soon coming. When he felt her knees buckle he started caressing every inch of skin available. Locking her waist he positioned her to straddle him. His pants were getting wet by the minute, his seed slowly seeping from him, her wetness joining him quietly. All his energy was spent not bucking but instead discovering her. His mouth latched on her pulse, sucking her skin, creating the mother of all hickeys. His fingers found her clit and played with it, enticing it to come out of hiding. His thighs were opening to make her more accessible to him. Hearing her catchy breathing was enthralling him. His whole body was tensing, his fangs were itching, ridges appeared underneath the blindfold but nothing mattered anymore, his vampire was coming to play.
Taking her all in his enfolding embrace, they rolled on the comfy bed. A hand on her neck kept her calm while he was discarding the pants. Gloriously naked, hard like a bow, he licked his way around her upper body. The tangy hairline, the ear shells, the column of her long neck arching to meet his rough tongue, the ticklish spot inside her elbow, the soft swell of her breast under her arm, the tight stomach protecting her navel, every spot was marked by his scent. Thick fingers were pulling at wet curls, warping them, tugging them, straightening them. Angel sex was beating out its own rhythm against her thigh, marking the inexorability of what was to come. Blood was pulling close by, still not enough to bring anyone release.
He could have done it. The man was at her navel and wouldn’t finish the job. How hard can it be to bring her to climax with that skilful mouth of his? He hadn’t kissed her or talked to her since she entered. He had bothered her body but most importantly her mind. How can her body betray her to his tormentor? Why wouldn’t he try to plead his case, get them started on a more natural path?
She would teach him a lesson. Cavemen get what they need; a knee in the groin will clarify his hazy mind and set some points straight, but maybe not right now. The mixture of pain and pleasure coming from his fingers’ work cannot help one to think clearly, Perspiration makes her shine, render her sleek between his limbs, in a morally hellish place in a heavenly physical setting. Her body wanted to be joined with her captor, her mind wanted to send him to hell; sunnyhell is just not close enough, and not what it used to be either.
She accepted the bargain but what a heavy toll it was exacting. How would she face herself tomorrow if she took pleasure in his touch today? She knew this Angel wasn’t the Angelus of her youth but would he press his advantage? Pursue her physically and mentally the way his soulless version would have? Drain her of her hopes, courage, and blood? A sharp intrusion brought her back to the current predicament. A middle finger was now in her core. She shuddered, clamping even harder on it. With short whimpers she begged him to take it out. His answer was to seesaw it demanding that she begged him instead to take her whole. Upset, embarrassed, flushed she still did as asked and whispered more than anything else “Please Angel, make love to me!”
With his strength and dexterity, he had her folding over his forearms, open to his gaze, her lower body resting on his hunched thighs. She was utterly self-conscious of how appalling this whole endeavor was and decided to count her blessing: at least he wasn’t seeing her. However she was looking at him. He was sensing her agitation and slowly started to talk to her.
“You smell so good baby! How can you try to deprive me of this? Your skin is soft like silk, warm like sunlight, and all of it is for me. I love the roundness of your breast, the full tips of your nipples. I can’t wait to feel your long and strong legs around me, holding me to you, forcing me to stay home” All and much more becoming a litany lulling her into believing that this coupling could be love.
“Don’t cry baby, please don’t” he cooed to her, licking the salty secretions, kissing her supple lips, tasting the warmth of her mouth. He drove her mad biting those full nipples, the tip of his hard length poised at her entrance. Patience was his bigger strength. He was going to let her come to him. Until then, the vamp in him had to taste her. Going back to her slender neck, he roughly kiss her pulsing point, lapped at it until his lengthen teeth slightly pinched the prepared spot and cleanly pinned her beneath him, her life blood filling his world.
The lighting stroked her, he bit her. It hurt like hell but the sucking action was bringing her to heaven. How could it be? The one thing she was the most afraid of was suddenly becoming the most erotic thing she ever experienced. Her skin was sensitive everywhere, her mind was in shamble only wishing for more of this. Without a thought she surge on his waiting manhood, impaling herself and clamping on his thickness.
“Oh gawd! Please let me live this down!’ both coarse voices exclaimed. The warmth and fullness coming from the joining and mingling with the blood flow was above anything each imagined. Finally capable of thinking Angel, closed the small opening on her throat, kissed it gently while moving in her sheathed core with long and sure strokes. He couldn’t see it but her desire was liquid and pouring all around his shaft, her muscles were milking him rhythmically; her breath was irregular along his neck, nothing to tell him she wasn’t enjoying this as much as he did. With more speed than his mind wished he used, his body took possession of her. Building her passion and his own, pushing her limits, driving him insane. He had resisted for so long he couldn’t wait anymore, arching his lower back, entering her with all his might, he pulsated close to his release, sending his fingers to replace him, he pulled out and stretched in one long possession into her anus. She cried out but that was already lost in his mouth, reverberating along his fangs, ringing in his brain, bringing him so much closer to the ultimate pleasure. Embedded in her, he let his fingers find her G-spot and lightly caress it, until her own sex squeezing them pushed him over the edge and he spilled everything he had in hot and powerful jets in her, cooling her roughened insides and starting the fire of her own release. His mouth nibbling her breasts, three fingers servicing her, his sex stretching her. There was no way to hold the explosion of her senses and body, she flew skyward, a white glow surrounding them, her eyes glazed and dark from passion she tried to focus on Angel and come back to reality. It took him as much energy. He came back from it faster, taking the blindfold away looking at her with fear, love and hunger. The small amount of blood around his sex was enough to keep the demon in him going and he decided to withdraw before he could regain his full size, wanting to provide her with a semblance of relief.
Silently, he stretched out on her side, gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead and whispered while leaving: “Rest well Cordy, because I’ll meet you right here at your next vision.” And with that he dropped the blindfold, already turned away from her spent body, closing calmly the door on his bulky, sweaty and satiated form.
Finally Cordelia opened her eyes.
The end of night one.
~*~
The original idea came from a challenge posted by Cyd at TIO. The idea was fabulous and inspired my smutty muse. there is only one problem, I am first still new at writing, which means that I have no particular discipline, sense of timing, or knowledge of how to make a story evolve, or even outline chapters. The second problem is that I decided to take Lysa workshop on smut so I could learn how to write a good one, but this stumbled in my brain before I could have the time to do all the steps, and more so learn and pratice on those skills.
This being a package kind of makes it more difficult to judge in an exercise, so I am posting here the whole chapter I wrote and beg for some helpful crit, something that can help me move forward. Of course I want to hear about anything that is fixable in characterization, grammar, story development, etc. as for the premise I am not changing anything as it is what my mind translated from the challenge itself.
As well, I determined that I can't take the challenge because it's one of those marvelous idea that deserve a full blown story, if possible written in multiple chapters in the course of a couple of months. In my case, with some luck it may take me a year and I can't promise it will be good. Being conscious of my limitations I really want to invite anyone reading the challenge to run with it and write it soon, cause I really like the idea.
Before I post the challenge and my part let me point out that this deal with a VERY Beigy Angel and a Disillusioned Cordelia. It's not especially romantic or fluffy, and that might be one of the reason of my downfall, on top of practicing in learning how to write smut, I have to learn how to write Beigy Angel.
If you are under 18, please do not go forward, thank you.
{C}
QUOTE
{C}The Challenge Summary by Cyd
the complete post can be read here: http://www.angels-oasis.net/califi/index.p...owtopic=69&st=0
The ATS team tried the same spell Willow used to bring Cordy back.
Season 5 setting of course. The following points are essential:
1. We're talking dark beige Angel, murky brown even
3. Angel accepted W & H's offer on the condition of Connor's new life and Cordelia being 'cured'
3. In exchange they got what they'd always wanted, Angel under their control
4. The cookie dough incident was Angel being...well Angel, selfish and insecure. With him believing it was Cordelia doing all those things, he was desperate to hold onto his past with Buffy even if it was his second choice.
...
It's not Willow's spell that brought Cordelia back. The Powers sent her to fix the damage Angel cause by opening the realm between them and The Senior Partners, and to get Angel back on track one last time.
Whether she remains afterwards or returns is up to her, but until she gets Angel back to helping the hopeless she's stuck on planet earth.
Seeing everything that happened after Skip duped her, Cordelia is royally pissed. And though she recognizes her responsibility in making bad choices, she has no intentions of forgiving Angel…again. Too many bad choices. So Cordelia has to deal with her anger while convincing Angel why he should return to the mission.
If she can’t, The Powers won’t let her back in. And for now Cordelia wants to leave LA and Angel as quickly as possible.
Angel’s argument, if Cordelia wants him to be a champion again then there has to be something in it for him and he's not willing to wait for the shanshu The Powers kept dangling in his face.
Angel's condition for their renewed alliance; every time he deals with a vision they have sex and the word no isn't allowed. Whatever he wants he gets.
Now how will Cordelia ever get back to the higher realm and away from the vampire that part of her now despises if she has to be around to deliver sexual payments?
Of course, the usual arguments. Buffy, Groo and icky Connor, Gwen, Eve, Nina; it’s all fair game. And all the while boundless sex. It gets to the point that Cordelia is torn about wanting to have a vision. The sex is great but how long can she endure all night sex marathons. Of course along the way, Angel mellows, Cordelia mellows and love is admitted.
the complete post can be read here: http://www.angels-oasis.net/califi/index.p...owtopic=69&st=0
The ATS team tried the same spell Willow used to bring Cordy back.
Season 5 setting of course. The following points are essential:
1. We're talking dark beige Angel, murky brown even
3. Angel accepted W & H's offer on the condition of Connor's new life and Cordelia being 'cured'
3. In exchange they got what they'd always wanted, Angel under their control
4. The cookie dough incident was Angel being...well Angel, selfish and insecure. With him believing it was Cordelia doing all those things, he was desperate to hold onto his past with Buffy even if it was his second choice.
...
It's not Willow's spell that brought Cordelia back. The Powers sent her to fix the damage Angel cause by opening the realm between them and The Senior Partners, and to get Angel back on track one last time.
Whether she remains afterwards or returns is up to her, but until she gets Angel back to helping the hopeless she's stuck on planet earth.
Seeing everything that happened after Skip duped her, Cordelia is royally pissed. And though she recognizes her responsibility in making bad choices, she has no intentions of forgiving Angel…again. Too many bad choices. So Cordelia has to deal with her anger while convincing Angel why he should return to the mission.
If she can’t, The Powers won’t let her back in. And for now Cordelia wants to leave LA and Angel as quickly as possible.
Angel’s argument, if Cordelia wants him to be a champion again then there has to be something in it for him and he's not willing to wait for the shanshu The Powers kept dangling in his face.
Angel's condition for their renewed alliance; every time he deals with a vision they have sex and the word no isn't allowed. Whatever he wants he gets.
Now how will Cordelia ever get back to the higher realm and away from the vampire that part of her now despises if she has to be around to deliver sexual payments?
Of course, the usual arguments. Buffy, Groo and icky Connor, Gwen, Eve, Nina; it’s all fair game. And all the while boundless sex. It gets to the point that Cordelia is torn about wanting to have a vision. The sex is great but how long can she endure all night sex marathons. Of course along the way, Angel mellows, Cordelia mellows and love is admitted.
community.livejournal.com/rwsawards/30717.html
