Preacher's Passion

TITLE: Preacher’s Passion

AUTHOR: Midknight

CHAPTER: 1 of 1

FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

SHIP: Faith / Preacher

RATING: NC-17 – Sex and Language

SPOILERS: Season Seven

SYNOPSIS: Faith takes on The Preacher and comes off second best, while he finds something interesting in her and decides to indulge himself.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Buffy The Vampire Slayer. None of these characters belong to me. They belong to Josh Wedon and whoever else does. I pay homage to them and I make no profit from this story in any fashion, way or means.

AUTHORS NOTE: I apologize before hand and hope you will forgive any errors or blatant discrepancies.

FEEDBACK: Yes Please. It helps. It really, really helps. – midknight_tales@yahoo.com

“So this is how it ends.” Faith thought groggily as she forced herself to her feet using the crypt wall she had just been thrown into for support. She blinked blood and sweat out of her eyes to try and focus on The Preacher as he casually approached her without a visible scratch on him. She had managed to muss up his clothes some, his jacket was gone and the left sleeve of his shirt was in tatters. Breathing hurt, standing hurt, every part of her ached and throbbed, there were things broken inside her and they simply weren’t healing fast enough to do her any good. She thought the beating the Beast had given her in LA had been bad, but this was a brand new kind of agony. Despite, her best efforts, he’d picked her apart systematically, methodically, starting with her left leg, breaking it with a single blow so that she couldn’t run.

She’d thrown everything she had at him and he’d let her. She never should have been out here alone, much less gone to the cemetery to patrol, but old habits die-hard and she just couldn’t stand another moment in the crowded house. It didn’t seem so bad now, though. She should have run when she saw him coming, but she hadn’t. She’d brazenly challenged him instead. She could have retreated when she started to realize how ineffective she was against him, how powerful he was, but she’d just fought harder. Well, at least she was consistent, even if it was about making bad decisions. She’d rained kicks and punches on him with all the power she possessed and had even managed to stagger him, a couple of times after that, but, she now realized, he had been toying with her, amusing himself.

“Too late for regrets now, Girl.” She told herself with a mental snort and pushed away from the wall. Her legs felt rubbery and her arms felt like they weighed a thousand tons, but she lifted them anyway, clenched her bruised and bloodied fists to take up a defiant, yet wobbly and swaying fighting stance as she marshaled the last of her strength. At least she’d go down swinging and not in a box with bars on the windows, a very meager comfort, but hey, any port in a storm. “Come on, Big Boy. Let’s see if we can loosen that clerical collar of yours a little or maybe I’ll just strangle you with it.” She taunted with false bravado and the faint hope that if she managed to piss him off enough, he might finish it quickly.

She readied herself for his attack, but still, she barely saw, much less avoided the punch that sent her back against the wall or the next one to the midriff that doubled her over or how he managed to wrap his hand around her throat in a choking grip to lift her off her feet. She hammered at his arm, trying to break his grasp as she dangled from it while, at the same time, trying to conserve her breath, but it was like trying to bend titanium. She scratched and scrabbled at his fingers, feeling her nails tear, but with no more success and changed tack to throw hard punches at his face. She felt bones break, but they were those in her fist not those in his face and she cried out in pain and panicked frustration at the futility of her actions and the inevitability of her demise at his hands. Her last ditch attempt as she felt herself start to blackout was to kick him in the crotch as hard as she could. She was at least a little gratified to see him flinch, but his grip never wavered and her world started to blur and darken.

Faith sucked in a gasped breath when his grip relaxed enough to allow it. She forced her eyes open and only one of them responded, the other having swollen shut. He was tilting his head this way and then that, studying he intently and speculatively. Blood steamed from her nose to run across her lips and she could taste its coppery flavor in her mouth and throat as she swallowed against his grip. He smiled and she groaned. “Why child, you’re a little different from the others aren’t you?” He mused his face lighting up with the first sign of emotion beyond disdain she had seen from him, and it appeared to be joy. “I’m a Slayer.” She informed him, shocked at how weak and raw her voice sounded. He leaned in closer and she wasn’t totally able to master the urge to flinch away, but the wall he had her pinned against left little room to move anyway. He sniffed her, his nose brushing her cheek and making her skin crawl, his eyes closing as he savored the scent he drew off her.

“No… No, that’s not it. Oh My… How intriguing. You’ve known darkness and not the ancient magicks that made you what you are, but the real kind, the kind that lives in the hearts of every man, woman and child. You’ve inherited it from other, but made it your own. Magnificent.” He sniffed again and she pressed against the wall away from him, cringing as he followed his nose with his tongue, rough and wet along her cheek. “Delicious… You’ve taken life from the living. You reveled in it, bathed in its dark radiance, but now you keep it caged, imprisoned. How pitiful.” He corrected her, his voice becoming thoughtful and melancholy toward the end. “You are something special and unexpected.” He noted, brightening up suddenly. “I should kill you. I will kill you, but first, I think I’ll indulge myself a little. One would be remiss to waste such a fine rarity.” He told her and his smile turned wicked and leering as for a moment his eyes went completely black, a deep glossy back in which Faith could see the reflection of her battered face before they returned to normal.

Faith felt fear, true and unadulterated like she hadn’t felt since she was a little girl, when she had been helpless and started to struggle and he simply laughed at her feeble attempt at escape before tightening his grip on her throat once again until she stopped. He reached up and grasped the front of her top and, with a casual tug, tore it from her, leaving her naked from the waist up. “A very fine rarity indeed.” He whispered in her ear as he roughly mauled first one of her breasts and then the other. Faith started to panic as the horror of what he intended broke through her mental defenses of denial and again she struggled, flailing and kicking at him, but it only seemed to please him as he pinched, pulled and tweaked her nipples, made hard by the cold night air, adding more pain to the myriads of aches that already racked her body. Perversely his hand was warm on her chill skin as she desperately focused her attention on one of his fingers to loosen it. His smile became once again amused as her efforts continued to fail.

He flexed his fingers and she gasped and then her eyes widened in shock, even the swollen one opening slightly, as he suddenly pressed his lips to hers. His tongue probed hungrily into her open mouth before she could close it. She redoubled her struggles and bit down on his lip, just missing his tongue as he withdrew it. His hand left her breast and gripped her chin, his fingers started to squeeze and with a despairing wail she released his lip before he broke her jaw. He wiped his lip on the back of his hand, which she took a very small consolation, was at least swollen. She barely saw the back handed slap that rocked her face to the side in a bloom of sharp pain. Her head lolled forward limply and stars danced in front of her eyes as she felt blood flood down her throat from her mouth. “Now you best behave, Little Girl. Them Slayer powers of yours will help you take a beating, but if you vex me, I will test their limits.” He warned his deep, cold voice cutting across the ringing in her ears.

It took every ounce of energy she could muster to lift her head. “Then you best get to testing, Preach ‘cause I’m the vexing type.” She informed him and spit a mouth full of blood directly into his face. He wiped the blood off his face and then licked it off his fingers. She saw his hand lift again and braced herself, closing her eyes. The moment stretched out and the blow didn’t come. She continued to wait and still it did not come. Faith slowly opened her eyes and he chuckled. He wagged a finger in front of her face in a gesture of negation and shook his head, clucking his tongue against the back of his teeth. “Smart, Silly Girl.” He commented against the shell of her ear as he leaned forward. “My attentions will make you think fondly of the ones your mother’s boyfriends used to lavished on you, Faith Lehane.” He promised and her blood ran cold at the intimate knowledge he had of her and the unalterable realization that she really couldn’t do a single thing to stop him from violating her.

He shifted his grip on her throat lower, his palm on the top of her chest pressing her back against the wall as he burrowed his fingers behind the waistband of her pants and panties. She tried to struggle again, but her limbs would not obey, only twitching while she internally screamed at them to kick and punch. He tightened his grip on her remaining clothes and pinning her so hard against the wall, she thought he would crack her breastbone or her spine and yanked. Her pants were leather and they resisted him, biting into her skin before the stitching surrendered with a series of tearing noises, her panties offered no resistance at all and she was left dangling, nude from his grasp as he tossed the ruined scraps of clothing aside. Faith grunted as he violently dug his free hand between her legs, cupped her crotch and forced two of his thick fingers through her folds and into her snatch. Her flesh resisted him, flexing and clutching at his invading digits, but failing to significantly balk his rough exploration. She whimpered when her body betrayed her further by flooding, in self-defense against his onslaught, with slippery sex grease.

His smug chuckle hurt as much as his blow had. He slid his finger from her and popped them into his mouth. “Yummy!” he noted with a broad grin. “Bastard!” she croaked, her voice hoarse and raw. “True… I never did find out who my pappy was. My whore of a mother wouldn’t tell me even as she lie bleeding to death with my knife in her belly and I offered to make it quick if she told me. By the by, you’re tighter than she was. Now, enough with the foreplay.” He told her, his voice as even and calm as if they were discussing the weather. Faith heard the tinkle of metal against metal as he unbuckled his belt and the rasp of his zipper being lowered sounded impossibly loud over the sound of her ragged breathing. She attempted to loosen his grip on her throat one last hopeless time only to have him shake her like a ragdoll until she stopped. Her final defense was to clamp her thighs together as tightly as she could, but he forced them apart and stepped between her legs to keep them open and she could feel his member pressing against her torso.

Some small part of her mind made calculations based on what she could feel and she gasped at the results. He was studying her again, not quite smiling, but glee occasionally quirked at the corners of his lips and twinkled in his eyes. He lifted her higher and his dick slid between her legs, pulsing, hot, long, thick and rock hard against the inside of her thigh for a moment before he positioned it at her entrance. “Feel free to scream, it so enhances the experience for me.” He suggested as he thrust up and lowered her at the same time to impale her on his monstrous phallus. Faith clenched her jaw, gritting her teeth to lock away the cry that bubbled up out of her throat, resolute to at least deny him that extra pleasure as he blazed an agonizing trail through her intimate flesh. He stretched and filled her far faster than she could adjust and her channel flexed and twisted in resistance, adding to the agony as he battered his way through. Her fingers pressed against the wall at her back and she felt the last of her nails break against the stone as she uncontrollably dug them into the unyielding material.

A whine escaped her clenched teeth as he continued to drive deeper and deeper and then her head slammed back into the wall and she screamed as he pierced her core and rammed through the tight ring of her cervix and into her womb. She shuddered, her body writhing in agony, her scream echoing in the darkness and she felt tears well up and leak from her eyes and roll down her cheeks. The salt burned the cuts and scrapes on her cheeks. “Oh that’s it, Baby. Show me how much you like it.” He urged perversely with wicked glee as he let go of her throat, but grasped her side and breasts and using his new handholds dragged her up his length again. She couldn’t stop the cry that erupted from her as he drove into her again or the one after that or the one after that or the next as he repeated the process relentlessly, again and again and again.

The rough wall scratched her back and buttocks, his fingers flexed and bit into the firm globes of her breasts and mashed her nipples, but these were minor pains, adding to the background ache of the beating he had given her when compared to his mammoth member slicing through her feminine centre. Each collision of his pelvis with hers sent a rattling shockwave through her body to sear her nerves and renew the plethora of hurts she felt. Her cries only got softer when her raw throat could no longer produce them any louder, as he continued to use her with wild abandon. His face hovered in front of hers, his lips parted, his teeth bared and his eyes flashing with enjoyment and intense concentration as he drank in her agony.

Faith was almost grateful for the numbness that started to set in as her mind shut down, curling in on itself for protection, seeking the security and safety in the warm, quiet serenity of her secret core, just like the first time one of her mother’s boyfriends had raped her all those years ago when she was only ten years old. But, he jerked her to full consciousness when he roughly pulled her off his thrusting cock and pivoting, negligently tossed her away from him, sending her flying through the air. She hit a tombstone, shoulder first, and then crashed through it, feeling her shoulder dislocate in the process, to bounce to a skidding, groaning halt on the grass on the other side of it. She lay face down in the grass, coughing and convulsing before breathing in its fresh, dewy smell and willing herself to die. She could feel something trickle from between her legs and despite the monumental effort it took, morbid curiosity made her run her hand along the inside of her thigh and it came away bloody. She wasn’t Faith anymore, all she was, was pain and humiliation and fear and shame, but death would not come. She had never hated being a Slayer any more than in that moment as the very strength that so defined her, denied her the one thing she so fervently wanted. The nightmare continued as she heard his soft foot falls distantly approaching and she heard him call her name with a singsong lilt.

Somehow, she got her hands under her and then her knees and started to crawl. She didn’t know where she was going, she didn’t know where she was, but as long as it was away from him it was where she wanted to be. “There you are.” He exclaimed with delight. “And, still alive. That’s good. You Slayers are tough little whores; I’ll give you that. I wasn’t done with you yet, but I was having so much fun and you got me so excited I tossed you a bit harder than I intended. Sometimes I just don’t know my own strength.” He admitted jovially with an amused laugh. She continued to crawl, but his voice kept pace with her and she couldn’t spare the energy from her dwindling supply to lift and turn her head to see where he actually was. She squeaked in surprise and fear when his fingers burrow through her hair and his hand clamped around the back of her neck, halting her in her tracks with so very little effort. “That’s far enough now, fun as it was watching you wiggle that enticingly sweet ass of yours.” He informed her as he wrapped his forearm across her throat and pulled her up until she was kneeling. She can feel his erection, still bare, hard throbbing and slick along the crack of her ass and the small of her back.

“Oh yes, a mighty enticing ass.” He reiterated before pressing a wet, sloppy kiss on her ear before releasing her and shoving her forward. He grabbed her hip and held her up on her knees before she could collapse completely. “Why won’t my heart just stop?” she asked herself in forlorn frustration and a desperate, awful need for it all to simply end. She hadn’t taken notice of or made sense of his words until she felt the pointed tip of his cock being pressed against the puckered starfish of her asshole. “Noooo!” she wailed as the intense horror of realizing his intentions and a sudden surge of adrenaline gave her the strength to twist out of his grasp and scramble away from him. Her freedom was short lived as he recaptured her, pulling her against his chest and wrapping his arms around her, but she continued to struggle. She would force him to kill her before she would let him do that to her and she clawed and bit and elbowed and kicked and thrashed and flailed about, hurling ever more denigrating and hateful slurs and curses at him until her breath burned in her chest and her heart threatened to burst from her chest, but the steel bands of his arms remained unmoved as he simply absorbed her frantic efforts, unprovoked.

“Nooooo! She wailed again, her voice cracking, this time in despair as her strength started to fail and her struggles grew ever weaker. “No.” she whimpered when neither her arms nor her legs would move at her command and she could fight no more. “Yessss!” he crowed triumphantly and roughly bent her over a nearby headstone, her resistance limited to merely wriggling, but she froze and tensed as he positioned himself again. He forced her forward until the fronts of her thighs were pressed against the cold marble of the gravestone and there was nowhere for her to move away from him. Her tears returned as he grabbed her hair and wound it around his fist, pulling her head up and arching her spine. “Please… No… Don’t do this… Please, just… just kill me.” She begged with a quavering voice, the words falling from her cracked lips before she could catch or censor them, fear overwhelming her will and reason to attempt to seek mercy from one she knew was devoid of it. “In due time, Slayer. In due time.” He responded and then chuckled darkly, letting the volume of his laughter slowly grow and its tone changed until it was a maniacal and echoed loudly, mockingly in her ears.

Faith wanted to find the fortitude to be defiant, the strength to continue to fight, but she was battered, bruised and beaten, had already been brutally raped once, and was unable to stop him from violating her in the one way she had narrowly managed to avoid since she was eleven. She simply didn’t have anything left, every last reserve she had was depleted, every reservoir drained and she surrendered for the first time in her life. She whimpered miserably as he started to apply pressure, her tight ring resisting and only reluctantly stretching, stinging as it did. She screamed when he suddenly thrust and tore through the tight ring of her sphincter and into her ass, feeling like he was splitting her apart and a searing lance of agony rammed into her bowels. Her rear channel clenched and squeezed at its unwelcome assailant, but did nothing to slow its intrusion. Her scream lasted as long as she had breath and then petered out to hoarse, panted cries as with a grunt he took his pleasure from her ass with long, hard strokes. Her stomach lurched and she dry heaved, feeling bile fill her mouth and she spat weakly to clear it. Her body shook with the force of him slamming into her ass, the slap of his flesh hitting hers reverberating into the darkness around them.

She had taken a knife to the belly from Buffy and it felt something like that, only if she had twisted it and then intensified the sensation a thousand-million times over and repeated again and again as he savagely pulled at her hair and rammed his inhumanly proportioned cock into the recently unexplored, snug confines of her ass. She fervently hoped he would pierce something vital and kill her as he pumped harder and faster causing intense visceral, fiery lances of agony to radiate across her nerves in overlapping waves that they kept her from even the small comfort of mental retreat or blessed unconsciousness. She heard a sharp crack as he drove into her with a particularly hard, vicious thrust and the headstone tilted forward slightly as he snarled above her.

He called her every kind of obscenity, spitting the words at her like venom, as his strokes got shorter, but accelerated to a frenetic and equally abusive pace. She prayed that he was nearing completion, that he would finish and be done with her, that he would kill her. She felt like she was dying a little with each and every stroke and yet none of them would do her the courtesy of being the killing blow. She closed her eyes and let her head loll limply against the grip he maintained on her hair, her body rocking and the edge of the headstone biting into her skin as she tried to convince herself that he could not continue forever ,yet feared that he might.
Faith groaned heavily as he pulled out of her, unable to fathom what more he could possibly do to her and then she heard him grunt and she felt splashes of liquid heat hit her back. His ejaculate felt hot against her skin and then she screamed again as it started to burn like acid. Using the handful of her hair he yanked her to the side and off the tombstone, releasing her as she fell. She writhed and rolled on the grass next to the grave as she instinctually tried to rub his burning daemon cum off her back. She didn’t know if her efforts had succeeded or if its potency just decreased over time, but the burning subsided to a throbbing sting as she ended up lying on her side and gasping for air.

It still felt like he was inside her and the sensation made her look around wildly as she realized she had no idea where he was. She found him casually sitting on a headstone, fully dressed and composed with his hand folded over one of his knees. She was surprised to find a flicker of spirit left in her. It wasn’t hope, no inspirational little voice telling her she had survived the worst and could still make it. She couldn’t beat him and he was going to kill her, but his smug, composure irked her and that little bit of anger and her inherent pride, gave her the strength to get to her knees and then slowly, shakily pull herself to her feet to face her fate.

He clapped slowly as he casually walked toward her, while swaying, she used every bit of her will to stay upright. She stiffened her spine to combat the urge to back away and try to run, knowing how pointless it would be. “Bravo.” He stated and he actually seemed genuinely impressed, but it didn’t stop him from reaching out and wrapping his fingers around her bruised throat and lifting her off her feet again. “A kiss before dying.” He whispered, drawing her close and pressed his lips lightly against hers, a soft and strangely intimate touch before he held her at arms length once more. She let her eyes close, unable to keep a smile from curving her lips at the thought that it was finally over, that there would be an end to the pain, as she felt his fingers tighten and his hand start to twist in order to snap her neck. Her good eye jerked open when he stopped, just before the pressure succeeded in severing her vertebrae to find him staring blankly over her right shoulder, a frown on his face, his head slightly cocked to the side as if listening to something. He nodded and then blinked.

“It seems not even the dead want your company, Harlot.” He informed her and drove his fist into her stomach, driving the air from her and leaving her coughing and gagging as he dropped her. “It’s a ploy of some sort. He cruelly wants me to have hope, just so that he can take it away, but I won’t give him the satisfaction.” She thought as she finally caught her breath. He hunched down on his haunches in front of her and she turned her face away from him. He grasped her chin and overcoming her resistance, made her look at him. “You’re going to deliver a message for me. Are you listening, Faith?” he enquired, searching her eyes to gauge her level of alertness and attention before using his grip on her chin to force her to nod. “Good. Tell the other slut of a Slayer that we’ll meet soon and she’s going to wish that I’ll be as gentle with her as I was with you.” He gave her his message and after a moment he again went through the farce of making her nod.

“Very well… Good night.” He told her and his fist hitting her face started her on her way to unconsciousness and the back of her head hitting the unforgiving granite surface of a grave marker took her the rest of the way. Time had lost its meaning ages ago and she didn’t know how long she had been out, but she found herself surfacing from the darkness. With, consciousness came pain and she groaned, her eyelids fluttering until one managed to open. She was covered by something warm and soft and she was moving, small jolts aggravating and intensifying the aches that sang out from her head to her toes.

“Thank God. You’re awake!” Xander’s relieved voice floated down to her and with effort she tilted her head to find his concerned face. “You came looking for me.” She whispered, swallowing to wet her dry throat. “Of course I did. I couldn’t find you and no one knew where you’d gone.” He confirmed. “Faith, what… what happened to you?” he asked hesitantly and she could see sympathetic pain in his eyes at the state in which he’d found her. His question brought the events of the night rushing back and she gasped before she clutched at his shoulders, buried her face against his shirt-covered chest and sobbed her heart out.

THE END