Return of the Ripper

Bluesky

Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Character of import: Giles as Ripper..

Archive: Ok to archive..

Disclaimer: Not intended to take any money out of PetFly or anyone's mouth, no cash made, a product of a sick imagination, and too much time.

Feed back please.

Thank you kindly. Spoilers for the end of last season.

Return of the Ripper
by Bluesky

The flight was long, tedious and a blur. It was touching that the Scooby gang had shown up to say farewell, but the effect was not unlike having a scab pulled off a wound that was never to heal. It was every bit of as uncomfortable as he had envisioned it. It was all that he could do not to let the walls crumble the rest of the way. To hold the hollowness inside, or worse the ripper. The ugly part of him that had risen to the surface, with dealing with Glory and her minions.. He had hidden it so well. He could do it for a few more hours more.

First stop, his lock box, his leather jacket and chaps smelling a tad musty, dusty, an echo from the grave. It is almost comforting. The graveyard smell. It reminds him of Buffy, of the Scooby gang. His Children.

Angrily he pushes that thought aside. She is dead. Giles is dead. The watcher is dead. That life is dead. Behind him. He dawns the leather, and dust off his Bike, adding the petrol that stored, preserved, checking the sparkplugs, unmothballing the powerful steed. As the Bike comes to life under his hands, his old self is slowly striped away. Packed the tie, the suit in one of the saddlebags, slipping the stiff leather pants on, the silk black shirt, the leather jacket, helmet. Oh. He is not so young or foolish as he once was. He will were the helmet. He will use the gloves. The boots are a tight fit. The leather must have shrunk. The rest fits, like a welcome friend.

He opens the storage locker door. The Ripper rode out, not bothering to close or lock the door. Not caring about the few books, or things in storage. He has not seen then in years.

They belong to his old life. His old purpose, His watcher days.

But he is dead. She is dead. Only the ripper remains. The wind pulls the last shreds of the formal self, as he speeds to a place that he knows that he can lose the still burning guilt and pain away.

No tears. He has not cried. Not when he killed Glory's host the man that just might have under normal situation have perhaps his friend, or at least the friend of the Scooby gang. He would have been good for Buffy. A doctor. Any father would have wanted that much for his child.

His child. His dead child. But she never saw. And perhaps it was better this way, that she never knew. If the council knew he would have been .. Well striped would have been the least of the things that could have happened. You were taught not to fall in love wit you charges. You were to keep distant from the slayers. Killing Machines that were to be instructed guided. Nurtured, approved of or disciplined, but not loved. Never love them. They will sooner or later die. Scream burned in his lungs, it welled up like the evil of the hell mouth, as bitter and sour as any death. He tossed back his head and howled,

Oz would have understood. His beast was better contained than what was welling in his breast at the moment. But he would have understood. He missed Oz at the moment. If Oz had still been around.. Perhaps he would not have had to flee.. Oz could have locked him into his cage and let the madness run. The full moon was over head

He was in the parking lot. The Bike and his need had gotten him here. It had been years, over 13 since he had been to the Rack. He was amused to see a car that he knew. A old black Roles hearse. Some people never changed. There was a crumb of comfort in that.

The deicer had not changed much. Lights were different. Some of the faces were new; most of them were at least familiar. The way that any room of people have in common. Like teachers and Liberians and such. And Men and women into pain and whips and props and crops, s/m leather and rubber and dressing to for fill some need, or attract a play partner, The way that perfumed flowers drew bees, and peacock feathers mates. A room full of dark peacocks, with glints of silver chain and studs flashes of red and purple, and daring glints of wilder shades. But black was predominating. Dominate. Dom.

He removed his helmet, standing in the opening of the stair well, looking over the Dungeon. The front room used to be a bit more sedate. The back room was were the actions was, but the sight of a naked man being flagellated with a cat was not that unexpected. A gather watched, as the sub was flailed, flesh shuddering with each thud on his back, legs or ass.

For a moment He was griped with need. Need to be the leather clad Dom, swinging the cat down on his willing victim, adding to the red welts on the pale flesh bound before him. And a second equally needy desire wanted to be the one bound, helpless, having the lash stroke and flay, sooth and burn, drum and strum his body to life, to scour away the sins of his soul, of his flesh.

One head turned in his direction, on the edge of the crowd. And smiled. Known but not loved. Held in his memory as bad taste, but a permit places non-the less. "Ripper! Or is Giles slumming? Come back to play or try to get me to change my evil ways?" Gray touched the once dark hair, a few wrinkles on the once baby smooth skin. His skin was still tight, body still 5 days a week in the gym hard, light glinting off of his nipple piercing, his leathers well oiled, well used. A whip hung from his belt, along with more esoteric things.

"What do you think so far? It has been too long, don't you think?"

"Well the place certainly has not changed much. But this sort of thing used to go on in the back rooms. Change in policy?"

"The place never changes. The people come and go, but we have the steadies.. Fresh meat and what not get snapped up fast, all ways on the look out for the young and tender"

"I remember. Look, were the coat cubbies? I don't want to trust the helmet on the bike in this place. "

"I'll take you." The man grasped his elbow and led him into a room on the far side of the hall. It was not one that he remembered, not as a coat rook room any way. It was not.

"Like it?" He turned and smiled, his green eyes sparkled.

For a moment he remembered why he had been involved with him then, so long ago. The power and draw that he had, the glamour. So young both of them, with him just a bit younger.. Not that he had been taken advantage of. No ... if any thing his gang was the sort that mothers warned their children about.

"Very nice. Like the X cross. Velcro, though, that is a bit tacky. What ever happened to buckle's and chains?"

"Velcro's cheaper, one size fits all, and some get off on it. Want to give it a try?" He was eager... too eager. Once he had been a Dom to look up to. A heavy handed task master, a suave control that had men and women tossing themselves at his feet, begging to be his sub, to be subjected to his whip, to his hands to pain and stimulation mental and bodily used and abused. Pleasured at his whim, fucked in a dozen ways.

The ripper smiled to him self. Paybacks were such a fun thing. And he had learned a few things in the last 13 years. About pain and torture sin and life. And death. The cold ash taste was still thick in his mouth. Pain could wash it away. Sensation pleasure pain, mindless need take him away from it. The giving or the getting was the only question.

"Well then. Let's give it a try, shall we?" Giles divested his surprised partner of his whip and belt, and had his naked form on the cross in a moment He was just a mortal. After fighting demon's vampires and sparing with slayers.. It was child's play. It was as easy as the first time that he had been put on a cross, by this man. Never forgotten, that first time, or the second, or the third.. Or any of the alters... many alters. Drawn back by the dark hunger that only he could fill.

That was then, This was now. And his blood was not quite as innocent as then, his body knew darker secrets, his soul had learned deeper arts.

"I seem to have forgotten your safe word.." Ripper drew a bandana from his pocket. "But I think that hardly matters at this point. As you will not be needing it." The bandana was cinched tight in the mouth, pulled cruelly between the teeth, snugged at the back of his neck.

His victim turned his head, looking backward over his shoulder. Eyes wide, but aroused, excitement, and a touch of fear. Regarding him, a slight nod, agreeing to this, to being with out a safe word, intrusting to him his body, his pain, his pleasure, surrender.

He was rewarded with a touch that traced over his flesh, checking the snug of the binding, exploring the body that trembled before him, sliding down his front finding a hard leaking erection. This would not do. A cock ring was snapped at the base. Better. Least he cum before the play ended.

Ripper nodded with satisfaction, removed his jacked and gloves and picked up the cat, flicking the whip a few times to get the feel, testing it on his arm for the tang, brushing it over the naked back and ass, to tease.

This was going to be fun. A smile that no one that knew him in the states that was alive crossed his face. The first lash was a touch too hard, He had to remember to adjust for human flesh, as he watched the slight trickle of blood from a cut, and continued to cover all of the exposed flesh to the whips crease

Red the world was red.. The flesh before him was red. Blood was red. Spike drank Red Blood. Red. Buffy had a red dress, Willow had a red shirt. Xander had a red sweatshirt. Red wasn't a bad thing. Roses were red. Why was he supposed to stop?

Oh. How embarrassing. His phone had been ringing. It stopped. No point. No one that would call him. No one that he needed to talk to.

He regarded the slumped figure bound before him. He had been careful. Only that one fleck of blood, the rest of his flesh an even red, from his wrist to his ankles, so careful and disciplined with the cat.

Judging by how limp, how he hung in the restraints it was a given that he had had enough. Carefully Ripper undid the Gag bandana. A trickle of a moan leaked out of his mouth. And a head lowered on his shoulder.

"You swing a wicked whip Ripper. Glad that I could not use my safe word. I might have in the first two or three swings."

Binding were undone, Velcro making the job easy with the dead weight of his body. The only other furniture in the room was a small padded bench. Ripper draped the limp form across it. Not would not be a kind thing to let the inflamed flesh touch the floor at the moment. Not that that would matter. And he had another Idea in mind.

The room was cool. Despite that he had worked up a sweat, It was a shock the cool air on his hot cock as he pulled it from his leather pants.

"Time to pay for some of your fun. Open Very wide."

"I would be glad to, but it would be much better for you if my mouth were not so dry."

Ripper slapped him. "Remember the rules. You must beg for the water"

"Please, might I have some water?" He turned his smile, on him, unrepentant. "I will suck you so much sweeter if my mouth is wet."

"Impudant sod. Very well. Hope you have some in the room."

"Shelf. All you need." He dropped his head, drained by the effort of holding up his head.

Indeed, there was all that he needed. Water, condoms, lube, vibrator gags, rope, cuffs, more toys than he had seen in one place. Nice. He took too of the waters and one of the lube. And a handful of condoms. One never knew.

He drank a water as he let his sub drink, feeding it to him, letting him suck it through the nipple. He must have been thirsty, finished it all in one long good pull. Hoped that he could suck cock as well as that.

He slid the condom on over his cock. It had been moderate interested in the activities, but till this moment had not been rock hard. The prospect of a opening taking it in, of head peaked its interested. The condom was a tight fit, He grimaced and made a note to his self to check about larger condoms as he thrust into the eager up turned mouth, and was sucked down a wide and skillful gullet. He suppressed the urge to moan. To give in to how good this was, how needy he was, how a part of him was so grateful to this offering up of surrender.

But that wasn't part of this game. The name of the game was control. He was the one for the moment that was in control. With that realization, he understood that he simply could not just come in his mouth. As nice and hot as the mouth sucking him, was he needed to plunder the sweet ass, to bugger him completely. Take him as he had been taken so many years ago.

Yes.

Quickly he pulled out of the slurping mouth, an audible pop as the vacuum broke on the rubber.

"Well yes. Let's get on with it now, shall we? I trust that you're clean, and that the lube that you have supplied with be satisfactory?"

"Ripper, Giles.. Wait.. Please?"

"Yes? " Ripper paused in his lubing up of the tight opening, a condom sheathing his fingers as he applied the gel, stretching, it.

"Take off the cock ring. Bind my feet and hands. Make me cum. Fuck my ass hard."

"Beg for it." Ripper paused, gliding his fingers in and out slowly.. Deliberately, circling the prostate, teasing slightly, "You made me beg for it. Some time for days." He pulled out completely, striping off the condom, tossing it to a dark corner.

"Please.. Ripper.. Giles.. Any thing.. Just don't stop..."

"Indeed. I do not feel that I should denied myself the pleasure of fucking your ass. But the cock ring stays. I might want to have another go at it in a bit.. Say a hr or two?" He smacked the ass in question, then bound the wrist to the table, and the legs to the supports of the bench. Such a clever device, lucky that it was set for his height to comfortable bugger his ass. He must have had it set up for his own use, as they were the same height in most things..

The first plunge into the hot body was a shock. SO different from a woman. For a moment his hands sought a face, breasts, lips..

Just the back of his head, as he buried his hand s in the silver streaked main, jet soft flowing over his fingers. A cry of pain/pleasure croaking from his lips.

This was not Jenny.. This was not some woman lover. This was his old teacher.. Nemesis and...

So good.. So hot, tight, struggling now.. Moving under him, strong and heaving despite the bonds, squirming panting, echoing the need that was welling up in his balls. The leather pants slid down over his ass, exposing the sweat slicked part of him to the cool air, an added stimuli to the situation. Air currents feeling like cool tongs lapping the sweat from the cheacks, silk trailing over the exposed flesh like fingers, like her finger perhaps.. Holding him cradling him, as he pounded into the sweet body. Strong legs wrapped around his hips...

She was dead. And no amount of his wishing for her could bring her back to life. Perhaps in death, he could find release with her, as he willed up her face, her eyes, tawny silk hair under his fingers, small pert breast under his hands, strong arms holding him, riding him, with him,

He let go, as he could not do when she was alive. If this was sin, let him burn, he was beyond all judgement, all pain, all love. Just the now and the body of the unfortunate soul that gave him access for his passions need. Mindless, he thrust, lust love and passion for another beyond all such feeling, beyond life, beyond love beyond shame..

"Buffy.. " He whispered, and shot his cum into the orifice beneath him, unmindful of who, or why, uncaring of any need but his own at the moment, he came, and collapsed onto the still heaving body bound below him.

It took a few minuets. Slowly he undid the leg restraints, the arm restraints, and flipped the body of his sub over. The sub moaned in pain, in need, scrambling at the cock ring.. Begging with his eyes and mouth for release, to cum.

Absently Ripper heard his cell phone ringing. It was in arms reach; automatically he snagged it out of his leather jacket pocket. At the same time undoing the cock ring. Cum started spurting, high and hard, splashing on his shirt, his face, his glasses.

"Hello?" He said absently. Watching the fountain spurt, then trickle to an end.

"Giles? Hi.. I am not sure what time it is over there. But I have to tell you some thing. Are you sitting down? "

"Yes Willow.. I am now sitting. "He sat on the bench, the sub curled now around his back, giving him room to sit, arms around his waist, trembling with the after shocks of the sex, and seaning.

": I 'm not sure how to tell you this.. but Buffs alive.. It's a good thing really.. Terra and I we brought her back with the gang...."

The rest of what she said was lost..."Oh Dear..Oh My goodness." Absently he cleaned the cum off of his glasses on his silk shirt.

The memory of the illusion of the silk of Buffys hair made him wince. "Good Lord. " How was he to face her now?

The connection was broken. He turned and tided himself up and left, No word spoken between Ripper and his sub.

END