Pet Rock, BtVS/Angel,NC17, The Beast/? 400 words for "Out Loud"

[eatenbyweasels.livejournal.com]

Pet Rock


Tense with anticipation, the monster lowers himself to a tremulous crouch at the feet of his Master. Demonic eyes are downcast. The Beast dare not meet the casual scrutiny of his Master’s gaze. He showered, he brushed, he flossed, trimmed all his claws and dabbed a little engine oil behind his ears. Yet still, his Master has not deigned to touch him.

Do... Do I not please, you, Master? His heart churns lava in his massive breast as the fear of rejection grasps him. Maybe if he were to prostrate himself a little lower, squeeze out just a little more submission to flow at those perfect feet, perhaps he would be looked upon kindly, today. The Beast lets his gnarled horns scrape the carpeting as he raises his haunches into the air. Inviting, pleading…. oh, take, me, sweet Master, use me, hurt me.... do anything, as long as it’s to me!

Oh, thank badness! The light touch on one moonscaped buttock fills him with molten riots of emotion. He tries to stay still, to be a good Beast, but the feel of those adored hands moving over him with ever-increasing firmness is almost too much to bear. Sparks fly from the flint-hardness of the cock bobbing against his belly as the Beast feels the slow, smooth breach of a knowing finger. He rocks back against the intrusion, wondering if the Master is smiling as he pushes a second digit into the dark pulsing pit of demonic need. The Beast ‘s hands are locked into fists, to stop himself clawing through the Master’s carpet as the fingers gently pump and twist inside him, hunting down that little spot of red-hot sensation and finding it just....there!

And the Beast can’t help it. He howls. Out loud. “Oh, take me, Master! Use me! Please!“ And if he’s to be punished for asking then so be it because his Master’s judgement is infallible. But right now he just doesn’t care because the fingers are gone and there’s the blunt push of hard cock against his opened hole and the Master is inside him, carrying him away on rockfalls of sheer bliss and the renewed, unassailable sense of belonging.

His Master. His world. As he shouts his joy under the rhythmic thrustings of his Master’s pleasure, but one thing lies unspoken on the Beast’s brimstone breath. The question: Who needs Hell when he has Andrew?

Comments

[willshenilshe.livejournal.com]

Once again, you frighten me.

I think I love you.

[eatenbyweasels.livejournal.com]

*snicker!* You/me, Beast/Andy; Twu Wub all round then....

[cadence-k.livejournal.com]

Oh. Oh wow. Yikes.

You have a talent for pairings that result in that kind of reaction! What a skill! :D

[eatenbyweasels.livejournal.com]

Ah! 'Tis my mission in life to make people wish to scrub their brains!

*evil snog*

[dawnie1970.livejournal.com]

Once again I am laughing so hard I am crying. Your stories are so damned good! Both of your icons are completely killing me. I will die from the laughter right at my keyboard, but I will die happy. *big hugs*

I refuse to wash my brain because now at random times when I am out at the post office or the mall, I will remember your stories and laugh out loud for no reason anybody can see and they will give me a wide berth. But, hey, at least I'm amused.

[eatenbyweasels.livejournal.com]

Not to worry, dear; they do straightjackets in such nice colours these days. Glad you enjoyed!