At five minutes to midnight, Willow slipped out of her house and hurried to the gazebo. She wore only a robe and carried Spike's belt. She had been tingling with anticipation all day and as the hour approached, her lust had grown more intense.
The pain in her face was manageable with the occasional throb reminding her it was there. She had taken one painkiller at nine o'clock and its effects were nearly worn off.
Slipping into the gazebo, Willow lit the oil lamp and set it on a small table. Brushing off some pollen from the round picnic table, Willow slipped the robe off, leaving her naked.
Trembling, she draped herself across the table, hissing at the cold metal and standing on the balls of her feet. With one hand she gripped the other side of the table. The other hand held the belt doubled over.
She shivered and moaned as the cold hit her wet pussy and waited.
At midnight Spike slipped into the gazebo and was not surprised to find his lover in the desired position. Shrugging out of his jacket, he tossed it on a chair and she craned her head at the noise.
Ignoring her lusty look, Spike rolled up his sleeves as he rounded the table to take the belt from her damp hand. Flexing it, he admired the supple yet firm leather and kept it doubled.
Positioning himself next to her trembling bottom, Spike smacked the belt against his other hand and she jumped.
Smiling, he brought the doubled belt down hard across her gleaming white bottom.
Willow whimpered and shook as pain flooded her. He hit her again and one leg kicked up as her other hand dug into the edge of the table. The third blow fell across her anus and she yelped and wriggled in pain.
After the sixth hard smack, Willow whimpered at the feel of his hands on her ass, spreading her legs. Her feet left the floor and she dangled, clinging to the table with her fingers.
Aiming lower, Spike hit her a nasty slash across the upper thighs which brought tears to her eyes. He concentrated on that spot and hit her several more times until she was sobbing and twisting in pain.
"Stay still," he ordered.
"I can't," she whimpered.
The belt fell across her bottom and Willow's hands flew back to cover her throbbing cheeks.
"Move your hands."
She shook her head wildly.
Grabbing her around the waist, Spike lifted her off the table and set her on her feet. Catching her hands, he quickly tied them together with the belt he had been wearing, then looped it over the main beam in the ceiling, drawing her onto her tiptoes.
"Spike," Willow whined.
"You were the one begging to be punished, Willow. So, take it like a woman and not a whiny child.
She flushed at his harsh words, then gasped as he brought the other belt down across her stomach. Glancing down, she saw the pink welt forming and swallowed.
Their eyes met and Spike lowered the belt, waiting.
"Don't stop," she whispered.
Nodding, he walked behind her and shook out the belt. Raising it high, he brought it down across the middle of her back, making her whimper and twist on her toes.
After hitting her back and bottom several more times, Spike again stood in front of her. Willow's head lolled against one of her arms, her mouth hung open, she gasped for breath, tears streamed down her flushed face.
She was beautiful.
"That was for risking your life and coming to the factory last night. This is for putting your hands on your ass."
Doubling the belt again, he sent it waling against her breasts. As agony lashed through her, Willow bit back her scream and danced on her toes.
Stepping closer to her, Spike slid one hand between her thighs and smirked as it came away dripping with her lust. She tried to arch against his hand, mewling in need.
Reaching up, he untied her from the beam and shoved her onto her back on the table. Willow cried out as her sore bottom hit the cold metal and flinched as he shoved her higher, so that her legs dangled from mid-thigh down to her feet. She kept her hands, still bound, over her head.
"Spread your legs."
Swallowing hard, Willow did as he ordered. Her legs shook from unfulfilled lust and pain, but she spread them wide. Spike gazed down at her swollen, wet pussy, open before him, and ran the doubled belt over her, wetting it with her juices.
She whimpered. "Please..."
"Make me come," she replied in a shaky voice.
"That's not a punishment, Willow."
Dropping the belt on a chair, Spike quickly stripped off his clothes. Naked, he stepped between her spread legs and gripped her knees.
"Fuck me," she begged.
His hard, throbbing cock stabbed into her, slamming her down onto the table and making her whimper in pain and pleasure. Holding her legs apart, Spike pumped hard and fast, gritting his teeth as her pussy clenched around him, squeezing his painful cock.
Willow began to keen and squirmed on his cock as he pounded into her. "Please...my clit...touch it...make me come..."
Spike leaned forward and ground his pelvis against her clit, making her yelp and shudder in pleasure.
"Fuck yes," she groaned and arched against him, climaxing in great waves of pleasure. Feeling her come, Spike pulled out and grabbed his cock, jerking off onto her twitching, red pussy.
Gasping and whimpering in pleasure, Willow finally lay still as Spike slumped down in a chair.
He saw her trying to get up and gave her a sharp command. "Stay put."
"What...?" she asked, confused.
"You're punishment isn't over, Willow. You've had your come, now we finish."
Rising to his feet, Spike got himself under control and picked the belt up, doubling it again. Moving next to Willow, he saw the confusion on her face. Her eyes widened at the sight of the belt.
"I don't understand."
"You were about to come from my beating you. That's not punishment, Willow," he answered her in a firm, quiet voice. "Now, spread your legs again and keep your hands over your head or we start over."
Trembling, Willow forced her legs apart and stared up at the ceiling. Her pussy twitched in anticipation and she caught her lower lip between her teeth.
The blow caught her off guard, the belt slamming across her pussy and thighs. She yelled in pain and pressed down against the table, wincing as the welts on her bottom mashed against the cold metal.
Spike hit her again, catching the edge of her clit and drawing a low moan from her as her head thrashed. One more blow sent shudders of pain through her and tears down her face.
Dropping the belt, Spike sat back down in the chair, stretching his legs out in front of him.
After a few minutes, Willow spoke in a soft, pain-filled voice. "Can I get up?"
She moved slowly as she rolled off the table, catching herself with her bound hands before she tumbled to her knees. On shaky legs, she walked over to him, hands in front of her stomach, head down.
Dropping carefully to her knees, wincing as her sore bottom rested on her heels, Willow lay her head on Spike's thigh.
Finally, she spoke, her voice confused and mumbling. "Are you angry with me?"
Glancing up at him, she saw the intense look in his eyes, and dropped her chin to her chest.
"You're so distant," she murmured.
"You asked to be punished, Willow. I wouldn't have done so, if you hadn't asked. I can deny you nothing, luv."
Raising her head, her eyes narrowed and her brow wrinkled. "But, I went to the factory..."
"High on codeine. I didn't blame you for that. Yes, I was worried for you. You took a great risk, but you didn't do it willingly. If you remember, I didn't punish you for coming to warn me that Angel knew about Buffy, either."
Nodding slowly, Willow nibbled on her lip and asked him another question. "Do you like punishing me?"
Her question clearly startled him and he looked at her for a minute. "Not really." She gaped at him and he continued. "Oh, I don't hate it, and I do like the occasional smacks I give your luscious bottom, but, beatings like this? It's not something I'm into."
She was totally baffled. "Then, why?"
"Because you like it. It arouses you. I told you, Willow, I can deny you nothing."
Shaking her head in amazement, Willow raised her hands and he untied her, gently caressing the angry marks around her wrists. Tugging on her hands, he lifted her onto his lap, cradling her gently, knowing her bottom was sore.
Willow wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. "I thought demons, vampires liked torture, whippings, stuff like that."
"Luv, haven't you figured out yet that I'm not like the typical vampire?" he asked in an amused voice.
Willow giggled and placed a loving kiss on his neck.