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Ritual of Faith

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This story is No. 1 in the series "Scenes from a Ritual". You may wish to read the series introduction first.

Summary: Saving the world often requires a Slayer to put their body on the line. But surely a spell requiring sex with the other White Hats is going too far?

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
BtVS/AtS Non-Crossover > DramarafestarkFR182232,960310529,73230 Apr 1429 Jul 14No

Sealed and delivered

Please see chapter 1 for disclaimer and general warnings.

Chapter warnings: Violence, vigilantism, coarse language, references to torture and rape

By the time Tony even thought to move his hand from the pen to his gun, he was on his back.

“The fuck?” He threw a punch and twisted to throw Faith off, but was at a disadvantage on his back and trapped by the chair, even before the slayer's powers came into play. Catching his punch, Faith just grinned before headbutting him viciously in the bridge of his nose.

Tony screamed in shock at the pain that exploded through his face.

“C'mon Tony,” Faith moved to her feet, “I remember you have a nice, soundproof bedroom right through that doorway where we can spend some quality time together.” She hauled him across the office while he tried fruitlessly to protect his broken nose from jarring.

She and Giles had spent some time talking over exactly how much damage they could do the bastard, both in terms of the plan as a whole and at Faith's hands specifically. She had no wish to lose hard-won ground by lapsing back into the person who was able to torture Wes.

But that was in the calm environment of Giles' living room – being in Tony's office and knowing what had already done and still wanted to do to her was entirely different.

She pulled him through the doorway and dumped him on the floor in his bedroom, pulling the door shut behind them.

“You gonna try and stand up and defend yourself, pissant? Or just lie back and take it?” She lifted him by his shirt, although Tony was trying to pull himself away too frantically to stand properly.

“Bitch.” He hissed defiantly, struggling in vain to free himself from her grip.

Faith let him continue just long enough to work out it was futile before throwing a quick jab followed by a knee to his gut. He dropped to his knees with a choking gulping noise that was particularly satisfying. Faith wasn't trying to break any bones yet, just demonstrate how thoroughly he was outmatched.

Tony held out as Faith lay half a dozen more solid hits around his torso, designed to ensure he could not lay comfortably, but it wasn't long before Tony was begging for mercy.

“Fuck, alright! You've made your point...” He began, cut off by another fist to his ribs. “Alright, please...I get it, no more!”

Faith ignored him, delivering a brutal kick that shattered his kneecap. The resulting squeal made her smile.

Blunt. Her mind whispered. If only I had sharp, hot and cold. Loud had its uses in the long game, but this one was meant to be quick and messy.

It was part-way through imagining how the man would look with a face carved up far beyond pretty that Faith stopped cold.

She was enjoying it too much, exactly what she had been afraid of. It was always going to be satisfying, but what was justified and what outright sadism?

She narrowed her eyes in fury at the knowledge that she would need to stop while she still could. Lashing out with a quick grab and twist, she broke some of Tony's fingers as a parting gift.

“Fucker.” She growled and spat on him, then knocked on the door in her agreed-upon signal to Giles, glaring at the manager who lay on the ground gasping in pain any time he tried to move.

Giles opened the door and entered, taking in the scene at a glance.

“I'll leave you alone, I swear. Just let me go.” Tony plead desperately, hoping for a more sympathetic audience than Faith.

With Giles now looking after Tony, Faith took the opportunity to start rifling through cupboards, looking for the receiving hardware of the camera she had heard humming quietly in the background the last couple of times she had needed to visit this room.

“This woman,” Giles ignored Tony's pleading and gestured to Faith, “is a person. Not a tool or a toy to be used by you or by the Powers that Be.” The former Watcher looked over at Faith just long enough to emphasise that this message was for her as well as the bastard on the floor in front of them.

She had paused in her search at the mention of the Powers long enough to meet Giles' eyes, but quickly returned to her task and kept tossing the room while Giles said his piece.

“We both warned you to leave us alone. But you assumed we were as desperate and vulnerable as your usual victims.”

Tony groaned, not interested in the moralising.

“You haven't realised the extent of your mistake, yet.” Giles opened the door behind him and a demon which could only be described as a wall of muscle squeezed itself into the room.

It best resembled the mythical minotaur, with the head and shoulders of a bull – if that bull had been spawned in hell. It stank of wet fur and rotting meat, with drool or something worse dripping from its mouth. While its chest and arms appeared human albeit massively larger, its hindquarters were some kind of mix with heavily furred human-shaped quads leading down to thick calves ending in wide hooves.

The centre of attention though was easily the naked demon's cock. Far closer to demonic bull than man, the straining erection was almost as long and thick as Giles' arm. The minotaur-thing walked toward Tony, who seemed frozen in terror, eyes bugging out.

“We still have an agreement to fulfil.” Giles spoke up. “I believe you requested standard fucking, oral and anal, all bareback – at least three times each.”

Giles and Faith waited outside.

“You would have made one bad-ass Greengrocer.” She broke the silence as they waited to hear whether Tony had passed out from pain or terror first. Giles chuckled, realising Buffy must have passed that conversation on.

“You will make an incredible whatever you want to be.” The british man smiled at her. Before that bizarre thought could sink in for the slayer, he continued. “I'm very impressed by the control you showed in there. You should be proud of yourself.”

Faith just shrugged. She couldn't help wishing Simon was torturing Tony as badly as he had been led to believe the demon would, and knew that as long as she wanted revenge so badly control would never be easy.

Eventually there was a knock from the inside of the office door. The two of them walked forward and ducked inside, to make sure the minotaur-demon was not visible to any possible onlookers.

“How did it go?” Giles asked the demon, who was now wearing a large towel of sorts around its waist.

“Passed out from fear first.” The creature explained in a gentle tenor.

“Bugger.” Giles handed Faith a twenty. “Thank you for all your help, Simon.”

“No chore to teach a prick like that a lesson.” Simon shrugged his massive shoulders. “But I desperately need a shower or Celia won't let me in the front door when I get back.”

Moving around behind the manager's desk, Giles grabbed a set of keys off the wall. “Here, use one of the rooms. The shower won't exactly be roomy for you, but better than nothing.”

Simon accepted the keys, and with a wave and a quick check for witnesses, jogged out of the office and across the carpark to his room.

The Sunnydale police were not known for their case closure rate. So, when a bound and gagged bloodied heap appeared out front of their station with a large envelope pinned to its chest reading 'I blackmail underage girls for sex, evidence and signed confession inside', they figured it was about time the weirdness in Sunnydale worked in their favour for once.

There was in fact both video evidence and a signed confession in the envelope, and the bloody mess it had been pinned to would apparently heal, given enough time. If any doctors noticed that many of the breaks in his limbs would have to be caused by inhuman pressure unlikely to occur accidentally in their specific patterns and locations, they were wise enough not to speculate on record.

When the man was well enough to regain consciousness and began screaming about being in danger of being raped by a bull, they reassured him there was no damage to indicate that anything of the kind had happened, but didn't bother promising it would stay that way - the police were going to take him to prison as soon as he was well enough.

Some days later, the old man from room 208 shuffled slowly to the motel office, readying himself for an argument with Tony about getting his TV reception fixed. Stepping in through the open door, he stopped short at the sight of a perky blonde behind the desk.

“Uh...” he cleared his throat. “Tony?”

“Not here! Sold up to pursue the American dream! He's probably travelling across our vast country and writing a novel about meaningful cultural experiences as we speak.” She suggested with more enthusiasm than conviction. “I am the new manager – I have signed documentary evidence of the new ownership beyond any reasonable doubt, would you like to see it?” She went to reach into a drawer.

208 held a hand up to prevent her continuing, more than a little overwhelmed.

“TV's bust.” He explained.

“Oh, is that all. Someone will come round to fix it tomorrow.” Anya waved him away, another happy customer.

The End?

You have reached the end of "Ritual of Faith" – so far. This story is incomplete and the last chapter was posted on 29 Jul 14.

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