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A Trip To The Store

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Spike was busy telling her about Beck’s latest adventure — which she’d dutifully told him about in their latest call, and yeah, maybe he wasn’t the best at keeping in contact, but he was trying, dammit — so he didn’t notice that they’d stopped until a few minutes had passed. Buffy seemed even genuinely interested in the story about ‘his fiery friend and the talking fish’, but for some reason she’d stopped walking, so Spike finally shut up and started looking around.

“Why’d we stop, love?”

“Oh, that. Uhm…” He raised an eyebrow at her and felt his head tilt to the side in curiosity. Buffy started blushing, of all things, and he couldn’t help a smirk. He moved closer to her, his thumb caressing her hand as he held it. “See, I’ve been thinking for a while…”

“Well, that’s sure to lead to all sorts of nasty results.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes, but he held her hand tighter and didn’t let her move it away. Then she bit her lip and his brain short-circuited for half a second.

“Spike, stop it and listen. Do you ever think…”

She let her words trail off, her eyes moving down to their hands.

“Been known to happen, yeah.”


She couldn’t fault him for falling for her all over again when she whined his name in that bitchy way, could she? He smiled and raised her hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle sweetly.

“Tell me, pet. ’M all ears.”

She kept her eyes on his hand for a few more seconds — or was it on his wrist?

“Just come with me, all right?” She huffed again, and then she was dragging him back a bit and across the street, and he couldn’t help it if all he could see was her twitching ass, clad in a glorious pair of leather pants that had had him excited since the moment she’d shown up to his and Xander's place for their date.

Date. His mind was still trying to get used to the concept. The Slayer and he dating, out there in the open, her — their? — friends all in the know and approving. Damn, but life for a vamp could be sweet…

He forced his eyes back to her face when she finally stopped again, and she was still biting her lip and he was still smiling, ’cause life was good. When he saw what she was looking at, his smile became delighted.

“Oh, pet. You only had to ask.”

She just rolled her eyes and blushed some more, forcibly dragging him inside the cheerful-looking sex store and making him chuckle. He couldn’t help but look smug at the shop’s clerk when he eyed them, and then they finally came to a stop at one of the store’s corners, full of lovely-looking leather contraptions. Buffy let his hand go to cross her arms, a determined scowl making her blushing face look incredibly hot.

“So. Willow and I have been talking.” Spike eyed the collection of bindings that surrounded them and raised his eyebrows at her, his eyes probably sparkling with mirth. She just huffed again and flicked her hair back with a jerky nod. “Oh, stop it. So yeah, my lesbian friend and I talked about sex. So what?”

“Just thinking that you might’a told me that before, I would’ve gotten some popcorn…”

“Ugh, Spike, you’re a pig.”

“Oink, oink,” he smirked, but then he let it turn into a smile and just moved his hand to caress her arm briefly. His gorgeous, brave, and incredibly embarrassed woman. “Just tell me what’s on your mind, kitten.”

She seemed to blush some more, her eyes pointedly fixed at the floor. Another customer chose that moment to wander in their direction and he sent a small growl his way, making him scamper off in a second. The little smile Buffy couldn’t hide at that made him feel all kinds of nice things, and she finally started talking.

“I…” She took a deep breath, then looked him in the eyes and let it all out in a breath. “Iwannatrybondage.”

He blinked, and then his hand started caressing her arm again, and was she trembling a bit?


“Yes. I want to tie you up, and I want you to tie me up, and I want to try some of the whole dominance and submission thing, and I know we did something like that back in Sunnydale and it was horrible, I mean it was incredible but also hello with the non-real trust and no communication?, and we definitely need a safe word now, and anyway it’s different and it doesn’t have to be bad sexual behaviour because the point is consent and trust and communication and —”

“Buffy, slow down, all right?”

She took a big gulp of air, her face incredibly red and her eyes almost scared, and he let his hand trail down to her wrist, coaxing it out of her crossed arms until he could hold her hand to his mouth, giving it a long kiss. She didn’t smile, but her tense body relaxed and she inched closer to him. He fought hard to remember that they were not in private, and this was not the right place for a snogging session glorious enough to take all of her — and, frankly, his own — fears away.

“You’re right. It is different. We’re different people, and we’re different together. Better, yeah?”

She smiled at him a little, somehow jostling his heart.

“Way with the better.”

He let his own smile spread wider, and then she was in his space, his other arm holding her even as he kept her hand close to his lips.

“I’d love to try bondage with you, pet.” He kissed her knuckles sweetly, and her blush seemed to change in nature, her eyes getting glassy. “And dominance,” another kiss, “and submission,” another, “and pain and edging and anything in between,” he murmured, his kisses becoming open-mouthed on her skin and making her gasp softly.


“Mhmh,” he nodded, now nibbling on her fingertips. “When I tease and tease and tease you, mercilessly, until all you can do is beg for release.”

She inhaled hard, closed her eyes, and when she opened them again her gaze was smouldering and had very little embarrassment left in it.

“I think I’ll love making you my slave and edging you until you lose your mind, Spike.”

God, he needed to have her right there and then. A little whimper might have escaped his mouth at her soft, fierce words, and he had to use all his strength not to slam her to the nearest wall when she touched her lips to his, sweet and tempting and delicious, and way, way too delicate.

“Let’s choose what we like the most, then, my sweet vamp.”




He tested the bonds, unable to hold his smile when they stretched but remained firmly in place. He definitely had to thank the witch later for her reinforcement spell on them. For now, though… he had much more interesting things to do.

He moved his eyes to his blonde goddess, who was standing at the feet of the bed where she’d starfished him: she was wearing knee-high black leather boots and a dark, see-through negligee that barely reached her buttocks, the lace letting her nipples peek through and making his mouth water. And her face was blushing in an enticing mix of arousal, power and hesitance, making him hard with just a glance at his cock. He shifted his naked body a bit on the fresh sheets, twitching as the unyielding bonds on his wrists and ankles stopped most of his motion.


God, her voice was hot, all low and rough and with just a tinge of embarrassed reluctance.

“As comfortable as you want me, Mistress.” She visibly shivered at that and he felt his hips move up a bit on their own, his excitement rising as her eyes flared. “Please, feel free to make me as uncomfortable as you wish,” he purred, preening at the way her eyes swept his form.

She climbed on the bed between his open legs, her hands going to trail on his skin, delicate enough to make him move towards her in eagerness already. She kept her hands too far for it to be a real touch though, and a little smirk curled her lips as she noticed his excitement.

“I like seeing you like this… all spread out for me.” He couldn’t help a little moan and her eyes flared again, her hands moving from him and making him jerk a little in impatience. She tutted at him. “Keep this up and I’ll have to punish you.”

Please,” he murmured, his eyes unable to leave hers, the familiar feeling of submission already filling his thoughts.

“You want me to?” He nodded, biting his lip, forcing his body to stop moving. Her smile widened and he inhaled hard as her arousal filled the room with its heady scent, making his mouth water and his fingers tingle and close in almost-frustrated fists. She sat back on her heels, prim as you please with her boots on the bed and her hands on either side of her legs, leaning down towards him but never touching him. “Do you want me to spank you, Spike?”

“Yes,” he gasped, his hips going up and closer to her, but she stayed still. Her cheeks burned but her eyes were fiery with the same kind of want he could feel rushing in his every nerve ending.

“What a pity that you’re so tied up at the moment…” Her eyes moved down and then she looked at him from beneath her lashes, and he gave another gasp of pleasure. “Kinda want to see your ass go from white to red from my hands.”

He couldn’t help a whimper and a thrust upwards, his whole body clamouring to get closer to hers. It was useless, and he loved it — God, he loved her.

“Can still do it, yeah?” He panted, and he would’ve been ashamed of how gone he was already if this wasn’t Buffy, Buffy sitting between his bound and naked legs, Buffy’s breath getting faster and her eyes hungrier, Buffy’s lovely cheeks getting redder as she looked down his twitching body.

And Buffy’s adorable nose scrunching up a bit, making him huff out a laugh.

“But I’d have to untie you to do that. And you look so pretty like this.”

His chuckle died out on a groan and he twitched again, full-body, making her eyes flare once more. God but he was a goner.

“Can tie my legs up,” he said, his voice low and just a bit hoarse. Her eyes widened and in the silence he could hear her heart beat faster, making his own breath shorter. “Tie my ankles up high on the headboard and there you’ll have me, all tied up and ready for your hands.”

Christ, she looked hungry.

“I’d like that,” she murmured, her face flaming but her eyes showing just how much she wanted this, sending a curl of delicious pleasure zipping from his chest straight to his groin. She stared at him for a moment, almost stunned by her own words, and then she started smiling slyly. Her hands ghosted over his legs, making him twitch up but staying just this side of touching, the perfect combination to make him quiver in bliss and frustration. “Be a good boy, Spike, and I’ll tie you up and punish you,” she whispered, her voice low and trembling, her eyes wide but determined. He couldn’t help a moan and another thrust upwards, hard and useless, the anticipation already almost too much and absolutely perfect.

“Please, Buffy, please…”

She tutted and moved her hands away, getting off the bed and going to stand next to one of his ankles while he panted, already desperate for her touch.

“Call me Mistress.”

God, yes,” he groaned, his legs trembling as she unbuckled the leather straps one after the other, and then she held up his legs by the straps, and he whined and tried to move his legs enough to have her fingers on his skin — she just tightened her grip and looked at him with fierce eyes.

“Be still,” she ordered, making him twitch helplessly as he struggled to comply, to obey, while all he wanted was her touch, anywhere and everywhere. “Stop moving, or I’ll punish you harder.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he begged as he managed to force his body still, all but for a slight tremble he couldn’t help.

“Mmmh,” she murmured while she fastened his ankles up and away from his head, leaving enough slack between them and the headboard bars that he didn’t have to stretch his legs much. That touch of consideration lit a lovely spark in his heart, making him smile sweetly for a moment. Still, the tender instant was over as soon as she sat on her heels again, looking down at him as if he was the most shamefully delectable thing in the world, sending desire and expectation rushing through him all over again. “I can’t believe how much I like this,” she whispered, her voice low and hot but also quite too close to freaked for Spike’s comfort.

He took a deep breath and damped down his rampant lust for a moment, his wish to see her unleash and be comfortable with it more important than the one to groan and beg her to start hitting him already.

“Pet, I love this. You know I do. Wager you can see it no problem,” he added with a little smirk and a wiggle of his hips, his cock by then leaking a bit on his belly and feeling quite too lonely already. Buffy licked her lips, making him twitch in anticipation and need, but he took another breath to look her in the eye with as much honesty as he could manage. “We know our safeword, yeah? And we’re communicating, telling each other what we like.” He couldn’t help it as his voice took the tone of a plea. “Please, I want you to do what you want.”

Buffy stared at him, her face and ears red, her eyes hungry and just a bit wary, her body tense.

“It’s ok that I want to spank you?” She whispered. He couldn’t help a thrust up at that, nodding hard in his eagerness, and she licked her lips again, almost making his eyes cross. “It’s ok that I want to hear you beg?”

“God, yes, pet —”

“And that I want to punish you for forgetting to call me Mistress?” Now her tone was more playful, less wary, but no less hungry. He panted a bit, already drunk on it, nodding again.

“Please punish me, Mistress.”

She smiled then, her hands going to his buttocks, delicate and graceful and making him burn already just with the anticipation of the pain.

“And I can… I can use that thing we bought?”

His mind blanked for a moment, thinking about the vibrator, the cock ring, the very bonds they were using, the anal plug —

“Whuh —”

“The… riding crop,” she murmured, her fingernails scraping lightly against his skin, making him shudder with the wish for more, harder. “That’s ok too?”

Please,” he begged, and her smile widened.

And then she slapped his arse.

It wasn’t a light hit, either, and he gasped at the sudden pain, his skin tingling with it and his cock somehow converting the burn into pleasure and getting even harder. He uncrossed his eyes enough to look at her, and she was looking back at him with a tinge of wariness — but mostly, she looked as though his reaction was the stuff of her dreams. Which was more than fine with him, really.



“Yes,” she murmured at his reaction, her eyes going up and down between his burning ass cheek, his leaking cock and his wide-opened eyes as he stared at her with a wild smile.




He moaned when she struck him again with another loud SMACK! He wondered idly whether Willow and Dawn were around their place, whether they should try to keep it down and not make this an entirely public thing — and then another SMACK! resounded and he panted out another, harder moan. Who cares anyway, right?

Then she stopped, her eyes fixed on his burning ass, and he bit his lip when he saw that her eyes looked way too weary again. Time for direct intervention again, he thought, taking a deep breath to stave off his hunger for more, if just for a few seconds.

“Do you want me to count for you, Mistress?” Her eyes snapped up to his and her already-rosy cheeks got redder while she inhaled hard. He forced down a grin and seized on the elating sensation of being at her mercy instead, his voice getting lower. “And I should thank you for each slap, shouldn’t I?” She gave a little pant, her eyes flicking back to his dick and then ass cheeks before she looked at him again. He could see how uncertain she was, uncertain about how good it could be to love this so much. He shifted on the bed, widening his legs that little bit more and raising his hips towards her a few inches. Fuck subtle, yeah? “Please, Mistress.”

She exhaled a shaky breath, her hands going back to his ass and caressing him lightly, her nails raking him softly and making him shiver. It wasn’t enough but his body seemed ready to tremble at the slightest touch.


“Yes,” he breathed out, a little weak laugh escaping his lips.

“Spike, are you sure…” He nodded quickly as her nails got that bit harsher on him, making his cock twitch at the pain-pleasure of it, his hips move into her hands. “Are you sure this is ok?” Her voice was a low whisper, and when she finished he could hear her heartbeat, quick and hard with what was probably excitement and fear.

He wanted to erase that fear, see her let go of it completely and unleash all she desired on him. And going by the hunger in her eyes when she looked down on his flaming buttocks, he’d love every single second of it.

“Very sure. So very sure, pet.” Her nails dug in his skin even harder, the pain as intense as the pleasure of being used like this by her. He whimpered and squeezed his eyes as his whole being seemingly decided to submit to her, thrusting in her hands as a way of begging for more. “Mistress! So very sure, my love, my Mistress…”

He opened his eyes in time to see her shiver, her hands trailing up his legs, and then she was kneeling right into him, her legs either side of his hips and her fingers trailing back down and up, avoiding his cock and making him whimper desperately, her nails scraping on his nipples ripping a groan of pleasure out of him. And then her hands were bracing his face delicately and her body was covering his, soft and strong over him.

She breathed on his lips and he panted, his eyes fixed on hers that were looking at his mouth, entranced by the intensity he could see in her gaze and feel in her hold on him. When she looked up to meet his gaze, they both inhaled hard against the other’s lips, overwhelmed.

They stayed like that for long moments and Spike’s lust moved aside for a while, a powerful feeling that seemed to be somewhat deeper than that taking over his body as she pressed closer into him and her eyes never left his. When he broke the silence his voice was a bare whisper, hushed and almost reverent.

“Do you trust me, Buffy?”

She looked at him and smiled, her lips touching his for a second.

“With my life. You know that.”

He smiled too, tilting his chin up to kiss her just as lightly, his heart trying to leap with joy in his chest.

“Then let me trust you too, love.” She closed her eyes and he kept smiling as they shifted against each other, pressed and intimate and close, her soft skin and the lace of her nightie making him tremble with how much he wanted her and her love. “Let me trust you with my pleasure, yeah?” She looked at him then, her smile becoming an expression of muted wonder, and he touched her nose with his lightly. “No one else I’d rather give myself to, you know that.”

At that she blushed, and a wondering smile appeared on her lips; as if it still surprised her to see how very hers he was, how much he loved her and wanted her. When she kissed him her whole body shifted against him, and suddenly it wasn’t just her hot, hot lips on his that were making him drunk but everything else too, her hands raking his hair, her lace-covered breasts on his chest, her leather-clad legs against his flanks and her nightie getting damp against his dick, and her wet, wet core almost soothing against his still-burning ass and his balls, moving back and forth, making him cross his eyes behind his closed lids in blazing pleasure.

They kissed and kissed and kissed, until they were both panting in each other’s mouths and she was positively thrusting her cunt against his balls, whimpering on his lips while he saw stars at every movement. She started panting harder and harder, and then she buried her face in his neck, her movements getting faster and more urgent while he murmured his encouragement, ‘yes’ and ‘more’ and ‘don’t stop’ and ‘use me, Mistress, come on me’. And then she did, with a shaky little moan and a full-body tremble, making him feel like the sexiest, luckiest, spread-open man on the planet. 

She’d used him before for her pleasure, that much was true, but this? This moment of intimacy, of holding him close, of sharing so much of her heart in her eyes with him and of letting him really see where she and her pleasure lived — in his outstretched arms? He’d never had this, and he wouldn’t let go of it anytime soon.

His swirling thoughts lost coherence as he gave a breathy laugh while she panted against his neck and recovered, her sweaty body still pressed against his and his cock still leaking on the skin of his belly and through her negligee, hard and pulsing and demanding. When she raised herself up on her forearms, her face was luminous with pleasure but somehow he could still see hunger in her gaze. She smiled at him, a sunny yet sly smile, melting his brain into a puddle of ‘please, please use me however you like, my goddess’.

"You are a very, very good vamp pet, Spike." Her murmur made him shiver in pleasure and satisfaction. Then he whimpered a bit, missing her already when she shifted away from him, her cunt making a wet, obscene noise when it left his flesh, which in turn made him whimper again. "Do you want me to let you out? Want to use the safeword?" 

And let go of the hunger he could see in her eyes for more of this? Was she crazy

"Please no," he found himself begging, licking his lips and forcing his hips down after an involuntary, inevitable thrust up. "Unless you want me to — please play with me a bit more, love." Her eyes flared and he couldn’t help a delighted grin, shifting his legs wider under her gaze. "Mistress." 

"That's better," she whispered, a well-manicured nail scraping on one of his still-burning ass cheeks. He hissed but moved his hips towards her, eager for more of her punishment, and grinned some more when she smiled at the gesture. Then she slapped him hard, making his legs tense, his cock twitch, and his throat give out a helpless, thrilled moan. "Do you want me to use the crop?" 


"Y-yes! Yes, thank you, please —" SMACK! "Hng!" 

She seemed to lose herself in the slaps, hitting him again and again, and he couldn't keep his eyes open but he couldn't stop looking either, his body writhing under her hand as she blushed but didn't relent, his cock almost hurting together with his butt at the pleasure of it all. 

"You're not thanking me anymore, Spike," she whispered after a particularly strong SMACK!, his eyes almost watering at the delicious burn on his ass and his dick feeling a second away from exploding all on its own. "I liked it when you thanked me," she added primly, hitting him again even harder and making him pant and gasp in air. 

"I'm sorry — sorry, thank you, Mistress —" 

"Mpfh," was all she said to his blabbering, and after another strong slap that made his eyes cross she moved away, getting off the bed. 

"Mistress, no, please, I'm sorry —" 

"Sshh," she whispered in a soothing tone, getting something from the dressing table and returning to kneel on the bed in just a couple of seconds. This time when she kneeled in front of his spread legs her hands were grasping her prize, and he gasped hard when she slapped it on her palm. "As I was saying, I liked it when you thanked me." 

His eyes couldn't leave the riding crop as she slapped it against her palm again, and his hips thrust up of their own volition, his whole body clamouring to get closer to her hands and their delicious punishment.

"Yes, Mistress, thank you," he hurried to say as soon as his voice worked again, his mouth almost salivating at the picture she presented: her negligee was stuck to her chest from her sweat and had ridden up to leave her wet cunt mostly bare, her leather boots a stark contrast to her skin, her hair a bit wild around her face — and most of all, a look of pure lust in her eyes, while her face and chest still managed to be flushed in what was probably a mix of arousal and embarrassment. 

She was a sodding vision and he her willing slave. 

"You said something about counting…" 

This time he jerked up when she slapped the crop on her palm, his buttocks seemingly burning twice as much already just at seeing her, his legs tensing his hips a smidge up. 

"Y-yes, I can count them, how many —” THWACK! “Hhn!”

“I don’t know how many.” THWACK! “Just count for me?” THWACK! THWACK! 

“Yees, Mistress! Ahh,” he exhaled with a little laugh, his ass burning and burning and his cock twitching and twitching, and leaking desperate precum.


“In your own time, sweetie,” she said in a dulcet tone, and he laughed again, moaning at the following THWACK!  

“One! Ohh…”

“I thought you were going to thank me.”


Was the wonderful bitch pouting at him? He humped the air for a hot second, his brain almost short-circuiting, and gave another drunken laugh.

“Two, Mistress, thank you,” he managed to breathe out, shivering in delighted pleasure at the smile that got him and the way she trailed the crop on his ass for a couple of seconds. “Ohh…” THWACK! “Hn! Three, thank you!”

And so it went for a while. She rained blow after blow on his burning arse, and he kept counting and thanking her, and whenever he gasped especially hard she let out the smallest little giggle, making him laugh as well — just to stop in a moan as soon as she hit him again. With every strike he felt the pain go higher and mingle more and more with the pleasure at the sense of pure submission to his goddess, to his Mistress, until he could feel his cock almost continuously twitching, red and angry and getting his belly wet with his own precum. He howled the number thirteen closing his eyes and thrusting up into the empty air, sobbing a bit at the absence of stimulus on his poor dick, and fell back down to the mattress with a full-body tremble.

He was hers, hers, hers, and he loved every single bit of the control she exerted on him. 

“Spike…” her whisper made him open his eyes, half-worried she’d stop this delicious torture out of worry for him. But he shouldn’t have bothered: her eyes were still hungry and eager, and she started trailing the crop on his cheeks, making him gasp. And then its tip touched his balls, and he gasped hard and thrust up in desperate need — only for her to move it away.

“Mistress! Please,” he begged, incapable of stopping his hips to strain upwards, his whole body pulsating with need and want for more punishment, more pleasure, more anything.

She sent him a troubled glance, but it cleared as soon as she saw the lust that had to be in his eyes. She smiled a bit and smacked him once more, this time little more than a swat, and he counted out ‘fourteen, thank you’ on a shaky breath.

“Stay still, please. I wanna try something.”

She wanted to try something having to do with his balls? Damn right, he’d stay still. He nodded desperately and forced his body to inaction, still a bit tense — and then got much tenser when she trailed the crop directly between his ass cheeks. He gave a hard shudder and whimpered slightly, suddenly mad with wanting something inside — and then her crop was touching his balls, and he moaned hard, his whole body shuddering in a heady mix of desperate fear and anticipation for more. He forced it still, panting hard breaths. And then she was touching his dick, trailing the crop up and down it, and he let out a long, frantic moan.

“You like this too,” Buffy mused aloud, and Spike wanted to nod but he was too busy obeying her and keeping his body locked down on the mattress to do it. “I wonder…” her voice trailed off and when she reached his dickhead, she flicked it with the crop’s tip. He almost yelled, his moan was so loud. When he looked at her again, she had this little impish grin on her lips, her face flushed red. “I think you liked that too, didn’t you?”

God, her voice, whispering and low and almost hoarse. He couldn’t hold himself anymore and thrust a bit up, desperate for more contact.


“Tell me, Spike,” she murmured, going back to touching his cock lightly, too lightly, with the crop’s tip. “What do you want?”

Ngh, ” he moaned, “please, please touch me.”

She flicked his head again and he sobbed.


“A-anywhere,” he panted, uncaring that he was stuttering like a blushing virgin. 

She just hummed, trailing the object down his length and making him whimper, until she was touching his balls with it. “Here?”


She chuckled, massaging his balls with the thing, too fucking light to be good but really, anything was good — and then she moved lower, and he jerked when the crop touched his arsehole, giving a little needy whimper.

“Here?” She whispered, almost reverent. He looked up at her eyes and nodded frantically, moving his ass against the crop while she looked at him like he was a wonderful puzzle to solve. “You want me to touch you here?”

“Yes, yes, Mistress, please,” he begged, seeing her shiver while she started thrusting the cop harder against his asshole. "Nnhh, yess…" 

She chuckled a bit, then moved the crop away for a second — 


He almost howled at the blow, hard and across both of his burning cheeks, and then let out little moans of pained pleasure with his laboured breath. 

"Well? You're not counting that?" 

He looked at her with wide eyes, uncomprehending, until her little mischievous smirk broke through his desperate pleasure haze.

"Fifteen, thank you, Mistress," he breathed out on a little chuckle, and she nodded once, her smirk widening a bit. Then she shifted to a more comfortable kneel, her bent legs spreading either side of his hips on the mattress, and he whimpered a bit when he could see her wet lips under the damp hem of her nightie. “Vision…”

“What?” She murmured, putting the crop aside and spreading her fingers on his scorching ass cheeks, making him twitch and shiver.

“You’re a vision, Mistress,” he groaned, her warm hands adding to the fire. Then she spread his cheeks open, her thumbs sliding down to his asshole — “Oh God yes!”

She hummed a little breathless laugh, and then her eyes went up to his, and he could see excitement and lust in them. He thrust up a bit, his brain struggling to work through the burn of his butt, and the hardness of his cock, and the heat of her eyes.

“You’re burning up, Spike,” she murmured, her smile getting more mischievous. “Do you think a bit of lube could help with the sting?”

Oh, his sweet Mistress, his love, his fucking goddess.

“N-no, I mean yes, I mean — uhhn just don’t stop touching me, Mistress…”

She chuckled a bit and flexed her fingers in soft caresses, her thumbs shifting against his pucker and making him squeeze his eyes and groan hard, the pleasure and burn zinging up and down his body and making him dizzy.

“Very coherent, Spike,” she said in a merry but low voice. “But I don’t wanna get up again… mmh. I’ll have to use what I have around,” she mused, her tone amused and embarrassed again. He looked at her then, and oh God, Buffy was moving her hands away because she was touching herself — touching herself to get her hands wet so she could touch him again.

“Fuck!” Her hands were spreading her essence on his ass cheeks and Spike went wild for a few seconds, straining up and down again and again, trying uselessly to hump the air and to get more of her touches on him. “God, Mistress, Buffy, fuck —”

“Hold still,” she told him in a calm but firm tone, clawing at his burning flesh to stop his movements. He could feel his cock pulsing uselessly and fuck! She really was a goddess, goddess of his pleasure, her wet thumbs moving to his pucker again — 

Uhn!” He groaned hard, when her thumbs started circling and circling his hole. “Uh, yes, please, please touch me more…”

“Do you want me to?..”

Yes! Yes, Buffy, Mistress, please put your lovely fingers in me, please…” Buffy gasped softly and then, after a moment of stillness, she pulled one of her hands away again. “Please —”

“Sshh,” she hushed him again, her newly-lubed digits going back to his ass, rubbing his hole and making him whimper again and again. “Do you want me to, Spike?”

“Yes yes yes — uuuhhn,” he groaned out, when one of her fingers entered him. “Oh, yes…”

He’d closed his eyes but he opened them again to look at her: her gaze kept going between her finger pumping him, his twitching cock, and his wide eyes, and he could read in hers how much she loved this, loved seeing him like that for her. He kept grunting out helpless little “hn, hn, hn” sounds as she kept pumping him, then adding another finger and then another, and he squeezed and squeezed them, her sweet and slender digits making him feel like he was in heaven even without being too full. Then she twisted them, and he sobbed in pleasure.

“God, yes!” He panted, and she chuckled breathlessly, but he couldn’t have stopped his praise if he’d wanted to. “Yes, yes, yes right there right fucking there, oh God Buff- ah, Mistress, uuh, yes!”

Buffy let out another little laugh and kept up her movement, her left hand joining in on the fun by cupping his sack and palming it softly.


“Oh Buffy oh God, my goddess, my love, oohh yes yes yes!”

“Spike,” she repeated, her left hand getting rougher on his balls and making his eyes cross before he squeezed them shut again. “Spike, I need you to answer a question.”

He breezed out a laugh, which of course became a groan in half a second — he could hardly understand his own name, but had she just told him he needed to answer something?

“Aah, I-I caahn’t, hn!”

“Spike,” she said again in a warning tone — and then her fingers thrust mercilessly, her hand squeezed hard, and she leaned down to lick him base to tip while pressing him against his own belly and making him thrash in his restraints, out of control. “Tell me how you want to come, Spike.”

He let out a desperate, gasping laugh, his hips thrusting against both of her hands, the image of her leaning down between his widened legs burning itself in his brain like a brand.

“I — I can’t — oh God,” he whined, because her fingers had left his ass to go and squeeze the base of his shaft, hard. She kept looking at him expectantly while he thrashed and moaned and whimpered, and after a few endless seconds his brain went back to working. He laughed breathlessly again and wiggled underneath her, drunk on the scent of her wetness. “I… I want…” She leaned down again and gave his cockhead a little kiss before licking it leisurely, and he groaned hard again. “I want you to ride me,” he whispered in a hoarse voice.

She blinked at him for a second, then sucked his tip in her mouth, hard, making him buck towards her.

“You sure?”

Oh, he knew what she meant. The idea of her luscious lips around him, her cheeks burning while she deepthroated him in his restraints, was the stuff of dreams. But he wanted her skin on his, her lips on his, and that sweet, drenched cunt around him much more.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, bucking up again when she swiped her tongue on his tip. “Please,” he said on a groan, making her smile.

“Anything you want, my sweet vamp pet.”

He laughed at that, weak and trembling, and laughed some more when she straightened and looked at his hips dubiously.

“Untie me, yeah?”

She sent him a knowing smirk and leaned to the side enough to untie his ankle, shaking her head.

“You just want to put your hands on me.”

“Damn right I do,” he murmured, shivering when her lacy nightie grazed his flesh. She massaged each of his ankles and calves once she freed him, making his heart stutter between all the burning and uncontrollable pleasure, and then she leaned down to leave sweet, fluttering kisses on the skin of both of his legs, from ankle to knee to thigh.

“You all right? It wasn’t too much, right?”

He shook his head a little bit, his legs moving to touch her lightly while she nuzzled her cheek against one of his thighs, every single part of him wishing for more contact with her.

“It was perfect. Still is.”

She beamed at him, her rosy face blushing again, and he could almost feel his heart beat again. Then she stretched to the sides to untie his wrists, massaging them, but he left her to it only for a spare two seconds: his hands went to her hair, moving it away from her face so he could cradle her head and pull her down to him for a deep, languid kiss.

She moulded herself to him, their bodies pressing everywhere, and he only let her go when she gasped for air.

“The thing’s got to go,” he muttered, his voice hoarse and low.

“What thing,” she murmured against his lips, kissing him again and raking the nails of one hand on his scalp, the other’s on his chest. He shuddered when she scraped his nipple, thrusting up against her and muttering a frustrated curse when his dick pressed against her nightie instead of her skin.

“This thing,” he growled, letting go of her hair to grasp her garment — but she stopped his hands, sitting up on him and pressing his dick down to his belly again with her weight. “Ohh, fuck.”

“That’s the idea,” she giggled, then sobered up and brought his hands beneath her nightie. He didn’t waste a second to comply with her obvious order and started fondling her breasts, her nipples on his palms and trailing between his fingers making his dick twitch desperately. “‘The thing’ stays on until I say so, Spike.”

“Oh God,” he groaned, thrusting up into her but unable to make her budge much, which just drove him wilder. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Good boy.”

He let out a moan at that and squeezed her tits harder, making her groan with him and thrust against him.

“Christ, you’re a natural at this…”

She kept thrusting against him, her cunt lips drenching his cock and balls but keeping him outside, and they both chuckled breathlessly at the sheer pleasure.

“Take that… as a compliment…”

“Damn right it was,” he growled, sitting up to suck at her nipple through the blasted thing — but she just pushed him down again, hard, making him thrust up helplessly. “Fu-cking god-des,” he muttered beneath her, drunk on the way she kept ordering him around and just plainly dominating the shit out of him. Buffy just laughed again, the sound doing lovely things to his chest region.

She moved lightly and mewled above him for a couple of seconds, then she moved his hands away from herself and stretched his arms above his head, smiling triumphantly when he obediently stayed in that position, quivering underneath her, the perfect image of her willing slave.

“You’re really very good at this,” she murmured against his lips, sending a thrill through him and kissing him softly for a second before straightening again and pressing her cunt to his balls. He groaned and she smiled more widely. 

“You’re fucking great at it too,” he breathed out, making her laugh a bit again. She undulated above and against him, lightly, and he groaned hard, his muscles tensing beneath her skin and against the leather of her boots, her calves hugging his body close. “Ride me, please, Buffy, Mistress.”

“Mhh,” she hummed, her smile never leaving her gorgeous face, her nipples peeking through the lace and making his mouth water. “Since you asked so nicely…”

He laughed, out of breath, and gasped when she finally whipped off her camisole, her expression a study in domination and lust. When she started moving up and down on his balls and the base of his cock, her fingers going to flick her own nipples, he started panting again, his body tensing more and more with the need to thrust up into her.


“That’s not my name,” she said sternly, thrusting hard against him, hard enough to hurt and make him see stars.

Mistress,” he choked out, his eyes crossing a bit when she did it again, and again.

“Buffy now,” she corrected him, eyes blazing. “I want to hear you say my name.”

“Oh fuckfuckfuck, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy…”

“Yes,” she groaned, her hips moving forward enough to let her lips cradle his cock, soaking it in her wetness.

“Buffy, my Buffy, my goddess, Buffy…”

He didn’t stop the litany of her name, hot on his lips, and she finally finally moved so that his cock was at her entrance, clenching her muscles around his head, making him groan and whimper helplessly — and then at last he was inside her, and she squeezed him hard enough to make him moan her name in an almost-yell.


“Fuck, fuck, fuck me, Buffy, uuh!”

“Yes, yes, yes,” she groaned, thrusting hard against him on every down-stroke, his body shivering hard in response.

He kept saying her name over and over, his arms straining against the urge to raise up to let him touch her all over.

“Oh, Buffy…”

Spike,” she moaned, making him shudder and thrust up harder into her. God, his name on her lips, on a moan like that, God. She ran her hands on his arms, a languid contrast to her feverish pace, and he could feel his skin tingle wherever she touched him, trembling and desperate to touch her back.

“Buffy, let me touch you, love…”

“Mmh… hn!”

“Please, Buffy, love,” he begged, and then she nodded, and he groaned as he sat up and clutched at her hips, crashing her to him in a few quick, savage strokes. She moaned and whimpered against his neck, and then she got back her control, thrusting his head back by his hair and kissing his lips like she wanted to devour him.

He kissed her back just as hard, letting his hands finally roam over her, frantic to touch her everywhere. When she moved to gasp in air, he bowed at once to suck on her nipples, one after the other, her little mewls shooting straight down to his cock and making him feel one moment away from exploding into her.

“Buffy,” he groaned against her breast, biting her nipple hard and making her yell a litte. Too little, in fact. He went to suckle and bite on her other nipple while one of his hands slid down between them, finding her clit and starting to rub at it mercilessly.

“Mmhnah, Spike, Spike!”

He just grinned around her breast, sucking it in his mouth and pinching her clit hard. She yelled again and he laughed against her skin, but he was close, far too close, so he kept thrusting hard while biting and pinching her again and again. After what seemed like an eternity of pleasure, she gave a harder, longer moan, breaking down around him with a hard shiver and clenching him to another sodding dimension. He thrust up into her uncontrollably for a handful of seconds and then he came too, his roar muffled by her breast, her muscles still squeezing him hard enough to make his eyes roll up under his closed lids.

They came back to themselves slowly, Spike moving his open-mouthed kisses along her sternum and up to her neck, nuzzling it as she sighed and mewled against his hair and ear, making him shiver when she licked it lightly.

Fuck… that was good,” she groaned, the sound of it making him chuckle on her skin just as her use of the curse word. He kissed a wet trail on her neck and jaw until he reached her lips, and then he kissed her properly, his tongue languid against hers as one of his hands went to tangle in her hair, the other cupping one of her breasts softly.

“God, I love you so much.”

She gave a little laugh against his lips and then smiled at him, joyous and bright. He knew she liked to hear it, even though she’d never said so out loud. But the way she looked at him when he did, especially when it was after or during sex or any other intimate moment — he could tell how much she loved it. And even though he knew she wasn’t ready for the words, he was starting to really think that she felt the same for him too, or was mighty close to it anyway.

They kept smiling at each other, and kissing each other lightly, and caressing each other, for a subjective eternity. Spike wondered idly if Buffy’d felt something like this when she was in heaven; if this kind of peace and contentment was in any way close to what she’d experienced there.

When she sighed softly in his mouth and hugged him closely, he decided that it couldn’t possibly have been better than this, to hell with any other logical argument against the thought. 

“So…” her voice was low and hoarse, and he felt his cock twitch inside her, which made her huff out a laugh and smile knowingly at him. “So, the sex store idea…”

“Bloody genius,” he whispered against her lips, kissing her again and letting his hand at her breast fondle it more firmly. “Oughta give the witch a present for this.”

“Mpfh- no!” She leaned back, an affronted look in her eyes, a delightful blush rising in her cheeks and making him lean forward to kiss them senseless. She leaned back more and tried to look stern. “No talking to Willow about what we did and bought, ok?”

“But Mistress,” he pouted, resisting a grin when she couldn’t stop a little smile at the moniker. “I just wanted to say thanks, wasn’t gonna tell her anything…” She narrowed her eyes but neared him again, and he cradled her head and gave her a soft kiss, his tongue just tracing her lips and leaving her panting, which made him feel all kinds of mighty. “’Sides, she and the Bit probably heard more than they wanted to anyway,” he muttered against her lips. He laughed when she drew back again, flushing more and looking at him with horror in her eyes.

“We weren’t that loud!”

“You sure?” He took advantage of her leaning back to lower his head and kiss her nipple, light and soft, and nibble on it once. “Think those slaps were mighty noisy, myself…”

“Oh God,” she moaned, half out of embarrassment and half out of his nibbles. “I’m never gonna look them in the eye again.”

“Bollocks,” he murmured into her skin, opening his mouth to suck her tit properly and making her mewl and clench around his hardening cock. “Mmh, you taste divine… my goddess,” he said, his words muffled.

“Spike… I don’t want to scar my little sister…”

“Lil’ Bit was Xander’s girlfriend for much more than you’ve been mine, love,” he said, switching to her other breast and sliding his hands down her back, until he cupped her ass cheeks and thrust her against him once. “Afraid that ship’s long sailed, yeah?”

Buffy just moaned, leaning down to lick and nibble his ear, making him shudder and thrust her into him again.

“I’m not having this conversation. Now stop talking and go back to worshipping me,” she groaned, and he obediently bit her nipple hard. She moaned harshly and he chuckled around her flesh.

“Yes, Mistress.”

And so he did, for a long, long while. They didn't use the crop again that night, but he did get to use the restraints on her, to the delight of them both. And when he saw Willow the next day he did wink at her and thank her, kissing the back of her hand in a gesture reminiscent of his days as Poncy William, delighting in her blush. 

Life, for this vampire, was definitely sweet.