Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10657731.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Buffy_the_Vampire_Slayer
  Relationship:
      Rupert_Giles/William_Pratt
  Additional Tags:
      Child_Abuse, Sexual_Abuse, Blasphemy, Alternate_Universe_-_Human
  Stats:
      Published: 2005-05-07 Words: 707
****** Sins ******
by felisblanco
Summary
     Don't know what the hell I was thinking. AU Human. Very dark.
     Consider yourself warned.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
"Beautiful. So beautiful." Licking the offered neck, tasting the salt on the
damp skin. "Make me want to cry when I see you. Die a little every time I touch
you." Fingers ghosting over the tense back, lower, lower until they brush over
clenched buttocks. A soft gasp escapes. "Yes, that's it. Moan for me. Beg me to
take you, to love you, to fuck you until you can feel nothing but me." The
whimper is almost pitiful. He smiles. "Son, you know you want to. Be my whore.
Be my sweet boy. Daddy's boy."
A sob. He closes his eyes and breathes in the mixed scent of fear and arousal.
Delicious. He reaches around and there it is. The proof. “See, you do. You want
me to touch you, to fuck you.” Head moves to the sides in denial but the cock
jumps in his hand. Another sob, louder this time. The slender body shivers.
“Sshh, don’t cry. It’s all right. Daddy loves you. Daddy would never hurt you.”
Stroking the cock lazily, catching every little drop of precum, smearing it
over the head. So smooth, so hard. So perfect.
“You’re making daddy happy. Don’t you want daddy to be happy?” A tiny nod, just
enough to make the blond curls bob around, stroking his bristled chin. “I know
you do. Such a good boy.” Putting his fingers into the hot mouth, the tongue
feels silky against his calloused fingertips. Dripping with saliva he pulls
them out, ignoring the tension in the slight body as he pushes the trembling
legs apart. “Yes. Such a quick study, boy. Don’t want to hurt you.” The first
finger slips in easily. Still tight but he’s loosened up pretty good since the
first time. “So tight, son. So hot and tight.” The next finger is more
difficult but soon enough it’s inside, stretching, slicking him up. The third
finger…
“Please…” The voice breaks.
He bites down on the shoulder, not hard enough to leave a bruise, never that,
but enough to hurt. “Now, now. Be a good boy and let daddy inside. You know you
want it, need it. Just a little more and you can have daddy’s cock instead. You
love daddy’s cock, don’t you?” Sobbing. “Don’t you?” Twisting the fingers a
little harder. The boy nods frantically even if he’s trying to move away. “Stop
squirming or daddy might get mad. Stop it!”
The body beneath him freezes. He scowls. Pulls out his fingers, smears the
slick from his fingers on his cock in angry motions before pushing the legs
even further apart. At the last minute he remembers to cover the boy’s mouth
with his hand before pressing hard against the entrance. The scream drowns in
the palm of his hand. “Damn you, boy. I try to be good to you, try to teach you
and what do I get?” Thrusting hard, one hand still covering the mouth, wet from
tears and saliva, the other pulling at the blond hair. “This is what happens to
disobedient whores like you. Forcing me to punish you.”
A few more and he groans, jerking as the semen finally makes the penetration
easier. Too late though, he’s already softening and with a plop he slips out.
Disentangling his fingers from the blond hair he releases the boy who falls
forward on his knees and sinks down to the floor, his body shaking. Pulling a
handkerchief out of the pocket of his robes he wipes himself clean and with a
sneer of disgust throws the wet cloth down by the boy’s face. “Clean up.” A
trembling hand reaches for the crumpled linen and tries to wipe up the pinks
streaks running down bruised thighs. Then stands up, grabbing the chair for
support, before slowly buttoning up his trousers.
“Same time tomorrow. Do not be late or I will be very crossed.” As the boy
reaches for the door he walks up to him and runs still damp fingers through the
unruly curls. “Ten Hail Mary’s, William. Go in peace, my child. And tell Liam
he can come in now.” As the door closes Father Giles looks up at the Blessed
Mother and Child and piously makes the sign of the cross.
fin 
End Notes
     My muse scares me. *whimpers*
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