Home ~ Fiction ~ Contact








Author:  Dark Star


A B/A fluff for Leni.



“I’ve got something special that I want you to wear today.”


“Special?” Buffy echoed. “Like what?”


Angel went to the drawer and pulled out something red. Buffy curiously moved closer, and watched as Angel held it up for her to see. It was a red silk corset, with a very small waist and rigid bones running round the middle. To Buffy, it looked like an instrument of torture.


“I’ll never get that on,” she said in alarm.


“Yes, you will,” Angel assured her.


“Yeah… but still…” she mumbled doubtfully, running a hand over the garment. It was very well made; it must have cost Angel a small fortune, lined as it was in red silk. It had matching red laces that ran all the way down the back for fastening.


“Take off your dress, and I’ll put it on for you.”


Angel gave a little smirk at her alarmed expression, but she awkwardly turned away from him and stripped off her dress. She stood facing away from him, clad only in her little cotton panties, and her arms held protectively across her chest.


Angel wrapped the corset round her chest and waist, from behind, being very careful not to touch her naked skin, and then began tying up the laces. Buffy squawked as the garment pinched her waist, and grumbled, “It’s too small, Angel. I can’t wear this.”


“Yes you can,” he replied. “Just breathe in.”


“I am breathing in!”


“Don’t make such a fuss.” He grunted with the effort needed to cinch in the waist, and something in his voice made her fall silent.


Finally, after much ‘breathing in’, she was imprisoned in the horrid garment. Buffy hated it; she couldn’t breathe, and her movements were severely limited; she found that she was unable to bend or twist at the waist.


“I don’t think I can wear it for long,” she grumbled.


“Just… keep it on as long as possible, okay?”


“I’ll…” she began, but then she caught a look at Angel’s expression and abruptly stopped. He was staring at her with such undisguised lust in his eyes that it astonished her. If he gets to look at me like that, I’ll never take the damn thing off…


“I’ll wear it,” she found herself saying. “I expect I’ll get used to it,” she added hopefully.


“Thank you,” he said, his hand spanning her tiny waist as he pulled her closer for a kiss. Buffy raised her face expectantly, and the soft touch of his mouth on hers made her moan. She could feel his hands exploring the new curves to her body as she welcomed his searching tongue, and she melted into the kiss.


Time stood still for her; she was aware of nothing except Angel’s hands, his mouth, and his body. She could smell nothing but Angel, taste nothing but Angel. Her heart speeded up, and she found that she was panting because she couldn’t breathe in properly.


One of Angel’s hands went to the back of her head and tangled in her hair; the other hand drew her tighter against him and he deepened the kiss even more. Buffy began to pant harder. She couldn’t breathe, and Angel wouldn’t let her up for air; his grip tightened on her when she tried to pull back.


When Angel finally released her, she was panting and breathless, and her skin had a rosy tint to it.


"Not exactly sexy," Buffy muttered apologetically. "You know, with the blushing, and all."


"You look good to me," Angel assured her, wrapping her tiny hand in his larger one and leading her up the stairs. "I like red."









Return to Fiction Index