Title: Sugar

Author: Misha
Rating: NC-17 for sex, ribald humor and bad touching
Fandom: Angel the Series

Spoilers: Angel 1.20 – War Zone

Pairing: Wes/Lena

Summary: Wesley gets into a tight spot

Length: 1100 words
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. own the universe and characters. I’m just playing with them.
Author’s Note: For Zortified’s Wesficathon. Written for deadmarshes, who requested:

Season 1, comedy, het only, featuring Gunn

Feedback: Relished at mishamcm@livejournal.com

Copyright © September 2003 Misha

I must admit to a certain degree of trepidation at the thought of attempting to infiltrate Madam Dorian’s. She does not take kindly to people with questions, and even less so to blackmail, and Angel had already expended our allotment of both. Besides, with Mr. Nabitt’s blackmailer disarmed, we really no longer have legitimate grounds to threaten her. That is, if there is such a thing as legitimate grounds for blackmail threats in order to stop blackmail.

Nonetheless, it is our best route to rescuing Angel, so I hand Madam Dorian a quite sizeable sum – not sizeable relative to Mr. Nabitt’s generous retainer, perhaps, but sizeable even by Dorian’s standards.

“Lena.”

In contrast to Dorian’s businesslike demeanor, Lena is ebullient. She leads me to my suite with a bouncy tread and loquacious giggling, walking backwards, hands behind her back. While the swaying of the spines on her head, the bouncing of her breasts, and the sashay of her tail no doubt contribute to her exceptional billing rate, they appear to me to be the result of her bubbly personality, rather than a staged display.

When we’re alone she presses her chest against mine, places her hands on my shoulders, and asks, “Where would you like me to start?” As she says this she wraps her tail around my waist and pulls my hips tightly against hers.

I stroke her neck with my left hand and disengage her tail with my right, smiling. Then I grip her throat tightly and drop the smile. “Perhaps we’ll start with you telling me where Lenny goes to ground.”

“Please, Sug’, I don’t know anything. I just let him take the pics. I have nothing to do with him anymore.”

I press my thumb more tightly into her throat and squeeze her tail, digging my nails into the tender spot behind the ridge.

“Okay, okay, I’ll take you there. Please, just stop.”

I release her but maintain vigilance. Not enough, however. As she turns she twists her head and a spine tears through my cheek. I put my hand to the blood as her venom begins its work. In an instant all goes black.

I awaken to a decidedly pleasant experience. Pleasant, that is, until I remember the circumstances which led to my being fellated by a demon. I was bound at wrists and ankles on a bed, naked, without my weapons. Judging by my various aches and pains, she had been very thorough in seeking out my hidden arsenal.

Lena slowly releases my member. “Wakey wakey, Sug’.”

“What are you doing?”

She crawls up my torso and looks at me, head cocked to the left, a pout on her lips. “Aw, don’t tell me you don’t know what a blowjob is! We haven’t even started the interesting stuff.”

“I’d say we’ve gone beyond the services I purchased, Lena.”

“Well of course we have. This is my treat now. You were awful mean to me, you know.” Her fingers glide down to my crotch, encircling my organ just behind the ridge, one fingernail pressing into the ventral side. “That really hurt, what you did to my tail, Sug’.” I wince as she presses into the tender flesh, hard. Her voice is hard as well. “But you knew it would, didn’t you?”

Through gritted teeth, I ask, “What are you planning to do to me?”

She looks puzzled, and her voice brightens. “You don’t know, do you?” Her grip loosens as well, and I let out a ragged breath. “Well, this is going to be fun.”

She applies her fingers and mouth to me, using skills well-honed by her work for Madam Dorian. Contrary to my every effort, I find myself reluctantly aroused. I gasp as she straddles me and takes me inside her. She is … quite lively. Exceptionally gifted. The reasoning centers of my brain clearly have no say in the proceedings.

“We’re going to make some babies!”

She giggles as her tail slides between my legs, beneath my rump, and insinuates itself inside me. There is a good deal of pain, as I am clearly bruised, but she has no difficulty in ensuring that I find the pleasure as compellingly distracting as a narcotic.

“I know, I know. You’re thinking, ‘I’m too young to be a Daddy.’ But there’s no need to fret, Sug’.” The sweetness vanishes from her voice again. “You won’t be around for the parenting.”

Somewhere in the haziness of my thoughts, I realize what she has planned.

“Your tail …,” I gasp out, “…an ovipositor.”

The sweetness and giggliness is back in her voice. “Clever boy! You’re absolutely right! First I squeeze out your creamy goodness, then I mix up my little brood, and then I leave them wa-a-ay up in your digestive tract so they can chomp on your tender flesh. Human meat goes down real smooth.” She moans as she rides me, wriggling to position me just where she wants me. “Smooth and sweet. Just like sugar.”

My vision goes blurry and I can feel myself about to climax when she gives out a gutteral scream. I cry out in pain as she removes her tail rapidly and indelicately from my rectum. The pain doesn’t derail my orgasm, however, but I ejaculate into open air. I shake my head and force my eyes to focus.

Lena is cursing and clawing at a noose around her neck, her tail trying to wrest the rope from the hands of a young black gentleman. “Nuh uh, lady! Time to cut out the sweets. Ain’t you heard they’re no good for you?”

He pulls her off the bed, keeping her off-balance so she can’t close in on him. She manages to steady herself in spite of his efforts and charges towards him. Clearly that was his plan, as he lunges to one side and pulls the rope as hard as he can, swinging her in an arc which carries her over a railing.

I’m not entirely sure how much time elapses before he releases the rope and approaches the bed. “I take it you’re Wesley? Angel sent me. The name’s Charles Gunn.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gunn. I—“

“Whoa! Whole lotta white guy!” He averts his eyes, staring fixedly at my wrists as he unties me. He turns his back while I clean myself off and get dressed, then shows me the way out. He’s clearly wrestling with what to say next. Finally he stammers out, “uh, couldn’t help noticing … you, um …”

“Not of my own volition, I assure you. Madam Dorian’s ladies are very well trained.”

“So people really do pay for …”

“Yes, Mr. Gunn, they do.”

“With THAT thing?”

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, Mr. Gunn.”

He stares at me for a moment, dumbstruck.

Then he bursts out laughing.