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Kantayra
Author's Notes: Ah, a brand new smutty saga...how exiting... Just so you know the setting. This occurs after S5, but I kinda assume that Buffy didn't die. Come up with your own generic and overly-used explanation for how this is. My personal fave: Buffy has the common sense to notice that Dawn's bleeding and wipes up the blood before it opens the portal. I mean, how obvious was that anyway? Everything else should be pretty straight forward. Enjoy the start of some new Spuffy goodness... ^_^
Summary: For over a year Spike's dreamed of Buffy, so what happens when he's finally offered her...at a terrible price?
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Spike, or any other BtVS characters that might appear in this story. They all belonged to a bunch of crazed clowns that call themselves Mutant Enemy because they think that sounds more respectable. Like I said: crazed clowns. ~_^ we’ll be able to work out a suitable…arrangement…”
Buffy awoke when she suddenly became aware of the strange fact that her body was moving of its own accord. At first she just thought she had been thrashing in her sleep, but then she realized she walking, heading downstairs, Dawn right behind her looking exactly like a zombie.
Buffy panicked. She tried to stop her body’s movements, but it was all in vain. She had no control whatsoever. It was almost as though her consciousness were caged, the spaces between the bars that she couldn’t escaped for letting her see everything that happened around her.
That was when she first sensed Her. She wasn’t really anything concrete, to tell the truth, but Buffy had to come up with same name to call whatever it was that now controlled her body. She began listening closely to what She was thinking. At this point it was just dull repetition:
Must obey Rhitias. Must go to Rhitias. Must obey Rhitias. Must go to Rhitias.
Who the hell is Rhitias?
the inner-Buffy asked confusedly.
Rhitias is my Master. Must obey Rhitias.
To say Buffy was freaked by this point would be an understatement. Metaphorically, of course, she bashed against the walls of her cage, bloodying herself as she tried desperately to escape. But not even her Slayer strength was enough to overcome Her.
By the time she and Dawn had walked all the way to downtown, she had put escape on hold and settled for trying to figure out what was going on.
By now, there were dozens of people walking all in the same direction, all in a trance-like state. Buffy quickly decided that someone must have cast some kind of spell over the entire town… Scratch that, only over the women of the town.
Buffy tested this theory out, and every last person Her eyes saw was female. This was not of the good.
Her suspicions were confirmed when, the instant they arrived at the stately Spanish-style mansion, they all stripped off their clothes in the entrance hallway.
Buffy began her struggles anew here, but they did no good.
Don’t fight, She provided.
We must be good for Rhitias.
Buffy still had no real idea who this Rhitias was, but he was so dead, it wasn’t even funny. And if anyone so much as touched her while she was in this state…
She shivered mentally. There was absolutely nothing she could do, she realized. She was completely and utterly helpless, at the total mercy of whoever had cast this spell.
A mental breakdown was definitely in order.
She got through the entire collaring and ‘re-dressing’ process in this state. And there was no way that teeny little thing she was given to wear counted as clothing.
She then watched on, unable to do anything, while a bunch of demons and some humans? debated how to manage their newest acquisitions until the auction. One demon in particular kept giving her slimy, appraising looks, and she struggled once again against the confines of her prison.
Rhitias – sleazy, little troll that he was – quickly decided that Slimy-Demon was the one to watch over Buffy…with benefits, of course.
She
didn’t even seem to notice. She’d let their body go entirely slack as long as her ‘Masters’ weren’t commanding her to do something, and She wasn’t even conscious of the proceedings.
Shortly thereafter She’d been instructed to go home and await her temporary master. She was already thinking of all sorts of sick ways to pleasure the disgusting demon. Buffy felt like retching; unfortunately, she had no control over her body to do so.
Rather than think about it, she’d spent the entire walk back home worrying about her sister. She hadn’t seen Dawn since just after they’d arrived, when Rhitias had proclaimed her a virgin and shuffled her off with the rest of the group. She could only imagine what was being done to her sister right now.
The thought of her little Dawnie being violated by these monsters became too much, and she was forced to turn her mind back to her current situation. Her own pain was infinitely easier to contemplate than Dawn’s, even though she felt a sense of dreadful anticipation now.
She
had stripped and crawled into bed, eager for her new master to claim her.
Buffy finally found something halfway acceptable to think about: at least none of her other friends were in town. Willow, Tara, and Anya were all safe. But that also meant there was no one here to help her…
The instant she had this thought, she heard the motorcycle pull up outside.
Spike!
She practically cried for joy at the realization. It didn’t even occur to her that he might want to take advantage of her situation. He was Spike, and he helped her no matter what, and…he was in her bedroom, looking worried.
And then looking aroused.
Buffy quickly realized that She had made a mistake. She was apparently under the delusion that Spike was the master she was waiting for.
Spike’s response was confused…and very, very tempted. Buffy silently prayed for him to realize something was wrong even as his lips met Hers.
What followed represented a frightening portion of Buffy’s dreams as of late. She quickly found out everything she’d been wondering about: how soft his hair was, how his tongue would feel in her mouth, how lean and well-toned his body really was, how his body just perfectly covered hers like they were made to fit together…
In truth, Buffy herself had become a bit dazed by his obvious bedroom talents. Only when she realized what was about to happen did she pull back.
No!
She rattled against her cage and tried to strike out at the ethereal Her that controlled her body.
You can’t have him! He’s mine, dammit! MINE!
She paused for a second, shocked that she had actually thought that. Spike’s mine, she thought experimentally. It sounded kind of nice.
Spike’s mine…
Spike’s mine!p She screamed at her captor. Don’t you dare
touch him!
She
didn’t listen, of course…but Spike did. If Buffy had had control of her lips, she would have kissed him when he pulled back and began demanding to know what was going on. She, of course, tried to lure Spike back into bed, but he was onto Her now.
Buffy was doing a little happy-dance inside her head when Slimy-Demon master walked right in. There was some amusing jaw dropping. Kill him, Spike! Buffy cheered inwardly.
And then she realized what her body was up to. Her instinctive reaction to cry out and warn Spike was, of course, futile. She watched Spike collapse on the bed unconscious and felt her hopes sink.
At least, She moved to call Rhitias instead of engaging in nasty activities with Slimy-Demon. Buffy shuddered convulsively – and entirely mentally – at the thought.
The next few hours were spent sitting in a room and staring at a wall back at Rhitias’. If nothing else, being trapped in this slave body was boring. Buffy figured Spike was lucky he wasn’t under the spell; he would have gone nuts after five seconds.
Of course the humorous little train of thought’s purpose was entirely to distract herself from Spike’s fate. He’d been unconscious and fine when she had brought him in, but who knew what Rhitias had planned for him…
Another of the ‘slaves’ came in to inform Her that Rhitias requested Her presence. She went to his office…and breathed a mental sigh of relief when she saw Spike there, conscious and pissed-off looking.
She
instantly returned to the task of trying to seduce Spike, and Buffy found herself frighteningly amused by how incredibly uncomfortable Spike looked.
They talked about this and that, blah, blah, blah, and all the time Her hands were on Spike. Buffy felt strange little tinglies running down her spine, and it wasn’t just because of the slave mentality. Even through this filter, her desire for him slipped through. She tucked herself into the soft leather of his duster, and Buffy got a wonderful whiff of pure male Spike.
She found herself feeling better just by being in his presence. Her brief bereavement left her worried once more, but he soon returned…with Dawn.
Buffy got one look at her sister and felt her world shatter. That filthy demon had put her in some kind of whore’s costume, and that eternal pissed-off teenager expression she wore was replaced by zombie-stare #101.
For that second, Buffy didn’t care what happened to her. All that mattered was getting Dawn out of this hellhole.
Apparently, Spike had the same thought. Buffy’s worries were over before they started when he bought her from Rhitias on the spot.
She
was curled up against Spike’s side once more, and Buffy allowed herself to take comfort in his presence once more. It was pretty clear that she was being left behind, but it was well worth it to save Dawnie.
She tried to project her gratitude toward him through Her, but Her response was to slip her hand down the front of Spike’s jeans.
Oops, Buffy thought mentally. This thought was quickly replaced by:
Ooh, BIG! And hard… Guess he had something to back up that innuendo all those years after all…
She was still grateful when Spike removed her hand, however; this was all just too…weird.
Spike turned to her then, looking her in the eyes. “’ll definitely be comin’ back for you, luv…” There was definite innuendo in the words…but also…
I know, Spike, she wanted to say.
I know you’ll come back for me. I know you won’t leave me here…
And then he and Dawn were gone, leaving her alone with her captors once more.
Hurry, Spike, she pleaded, breaking down once again,
please…
* * *
The day after Spike left had been hell. Every second she’d been in mortal fear that someone would rape her. It was making her exhausted and edgy and, quite frankly, more than a bit hysterical. At least she was back at the house now, so there weren’t male demons constantly around her.
But she had no idea what Rhitias wanted with her now…other than to get his greasy, bald head petted. She amused herself by contemplating swinging him around the room by his crappy little comb-over before flinging him right out the window… It was a happy fantasy.
Fortunately, the answer came to her in form of those subtle tinglies in the back of neck. Wonderful, familiar tinglies…
Spike…
She was smiling before he even came in the door. She giggled inwardly at the completely dumbfounded look on his face. Apparently her state of undress was a bit taxing on his already strained jeans...
Dawn was with him, and one look at her was all it took for real Buffy to know that she was herself again. Slave-Buffy had no clue, of course; Real-Buffy decided it was because She didn’t have a brain.
The negotiations were the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard in her life. She snuggled up into Spike’s lap, and Buffy enjoyed wrapping her arms around him as well, all the while chanting:
please, let me stay with Spike, please, let me stay with Spike…
And then Rhitias was gone, and her and Spike’s lips met again, and the world was wonderful…
Frankly, she had become more and more impressed with the vampire as the day passed by. The ‘hard to get’ game? Sheer brilliance! Although she was so going to kiss his ass later about the “you’re a natural” comment. I mean, really, why did he say these things around her when he knew they would get him a good beating the instant she was back to herself.
And, oh yeah, for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt like she actually would become herself again soon. She cuddled and snuggled and massaged Spike every chance She could get, and Buffy availed herself of the opportunity to be close to the yummy vampirey goodness without any consequences whatsoever. By the time the day was done, she was inwardly trembling at the feel of his cool skin against hers…
The only time she had been at all worried was that first night. But, again, perfect gentleman…well, perfect naked gentleman with a rock-hard erection pressed against her bare ass… Not at all a bad sensation, actually.
She should have known he wouldn’t take advantage. After all, he loved her. There was no way he’d hurt her. She briefly wondered when she’d begun taking it as hard fact that Spike really was in love with her. It seemed so obvious now that she couldn’t imagine what she’d been thinking in those first days after he made his confession to her.
And then, wonder of all wonders, he finally ordered Slave-Buffy to go to sleep. She actually hadn’t gotten any real rest this entire time. It was so delightful to finally close her eyes, Spike spooned up against her back, his irregular breaths soothing her, and drift off into sleep.
Really, it was no wonder she l—er, respected, cared about, trusted, considered him a friend and an ally. See? No words that begin with ‘L’ there!
* * *
In the back of her mind, she began to feel guilty about how much fun it was watching him squirm when She came on to him. But then Slave-Buffy would do something so completely outrageous, and he’d scramble so hard to try to get out of his precarious position, that she just couldn’t help herself from inwardly snickering at him. He really was funny. And kind. And handsome. And loving. And…
OK, Buffy
, she scolded herself, mind back on track. Tomorrow Spike buys you in auction. Don’t even think about how wrong that sentence is. Then, you get restored back to normal, and we kick serious demon ass. Well, not one particularly cute, tight demon ass… She ventured a peek over to where Spike was pulling up his boxers and felt her mouth go dry. Apparently, she and Slave-Buffy were thinking along the same lines.
Mind back on track!
It was frightening how often she had to say this to herself as of late. That night when he'd first gotten that motorcycle of his and asked her for a ride… Oh god, just the thought of straddling that bike, her arms wrapped tightly around him, the engine vibrating beneath her spread thighs as she pressed them into him… So, yeah, it was a good thing she’d had the willpower to refuse, or she would have done something really bad. Spontaneous sexual explosion kind of bad.
Her resistance was at an all-time low right now, however. She couldn’t imagine what she would do when this spell was over, and she couldn’t spend every night at his side anymore. All she wanted to do was curl up deep in his arms and never come out again…which she did. For the whole night.
* * *
She woke up to the delightful sensation of his erection pressing hard between her thighs. Unconsciously, she reached down to free it from the pair of boxers had concealed him from her.
Slave-Buffy took it a step further, yanking the shorts down to his knees and flinging her sleep-shirt up and over her head.
Buffy watched his erection hungrily as She stroked it to its full potential. Buffy suddenly found the strangest of sensations come over her. She felt empty, like there was a void deep inside her. Sure, the aching wet twinges between her thighs were a part of it, but that same emptiness was elsewhere, too. Deeper. At the very center of her being.
Even Slave-Buffy seemed to feel it. She plundered Spike’s mouth with her own, and even in his sleep, he responded to her. Some simple gentle coaxing and he rolled over on top of her, murmuring her name in his sleep.
Buffy began to grow nervous as Slave-Buffy spread her thighs, allowing him to slip easily in between. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen; this wasn’t what she had been waiting for…
She had gone through three horrifying, soul-wrenching changes of opinion in the few months since Spike had first declared for her.
The first had been right after he’d nearly gotten himself tortured to death by Glory just to protect Dawn. As her lips brushed ever-so-gently across his swollen, beaten ones, something fundamentally within her had changed. I will never have sex with Spike because I am NOT attracted to him switched to I will never have sex with Spike DESPITE THE FACT that I’m attracted to him.
She had railed against the idea for weeks, but in the end she couldn’t deny it. She was attracted to him. Had been for a long time now. And, once she admitted it, life had become a whole lot easier.
That was until Revelation #2. She had stood over his broken body after annihilating the Doc and saving the world once more, and she couldn’t help but feel a pang deep down in her chest. In a place that had been dead for so long, it almost hurt for feeling to blossom there again.
She’d carried him as tenderly as she could back to his crypt, cradling him as if he were something precious to her…which he was. She could admit that, right? He was a friend, an ally; she cared about. It was only natural. She’d do the same for Willow or Xander or Anya or…
She probably wouldn’t have given Willow or Xander or Anya that second kiss, though. The one that changed the definitive statement about her relationship with Spike from I will NEVER have sex with Spike despite the fact that I’m attracted to him to IF I EVER have sex with Spike, it will be because I’m attracted to him.
This was deep sin territory now. She was actually acknowledging the possibility that the two of them could make love. Very, very scary. She avoided him for several weeks as a result.
But he had gotten back to his usual, exasperating self so quickly that she just couldn’t avoid him. And, truth be told, she didn’t really want to. There was something inherently exciting about knowing that he wanted her and, yeah, she’d consider it…
Revelation #3. When that demon gang came into town. Oh, the two of them had been wonderful together that night. Pure Slaying magic. Buffy had felt the blood pound through her veins as they moved in perfect sync, destroying the demon threat before it even knew what hit it.
That night he’d come to her window on that bike of his, like some modern Romeo courting his Juliet. Buffy’d allowed herself to go down and talk to him, just that one night.
And when he’d asked her to ride with him, she suddenly realized it had all changed again. It wasn’t IF I ever have sex with Spike so much as WHEN I have sex with Spike. It was inevitable, the natural conclusion of their relationship. There was no doubt in her mind that any day now, the two of them world finally come together, and…well, find a kind of magic union beyond just the fighting.
She’d refused him that night. Not now, she thought inwardly,
but some day…when everything’s right…
Apparently that day was now. His swollen tip pressed right against the softness between her thighs, and Buffy moaned. There was no conflict between Slave-Buffy and Real-Buffy in that moment; their needs were one.
“Spike…” she gasped softly when he finally plunged deep within her.
And his eyes opened. And he realized was he was doing.
Buffy watched with dismay when horror overcame his baser urges. Soon he was crying in her arms, not knowing all along that she would just die if they didn’t keep making love.
The two of them together, they held him and comforted him and moved against him slowly. She could feel the moment when he gave in, and it practically broke her heart. He was looking into her eyes as he did so, and she could tell that he saw that flicker there, that trace that she was there with him as well. But he obviously didn’t believe his eyes because he was fighting not to cry again then.
I’m sorry, she wanted to say, even as she reached dizzying new heights of ecstasy. Who knew it could be like this?
I’m so sorry, Spike. Our first time…it should have been special, momentous, earth-shattering. I wanted it to be absolutely perfect, baby. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you, I swear…
She’d never cum so hard in her life. She’d always known it would be like this between them, though. He was the perfect fit, mind, body, and soul. He’d known it all along; she’d denied it long after he’d given in. But now she knew it, too. In that once perfect moment, there was no doubt in her mind that all the reservations that had been holding her back before were ridiculous. They were unquestionably meant to be.
I love you, Spike, she tried to convey it with her eyes, her body, but She was still far too much in charge.
It’s OK, Spike. It was ME you made love to. The REAL ME. No, don’t cry! Don’t think I’ll stake you! Please, please, Spike, be all right. I love you, dammit! I LOVE YOU! Don’t leave me…
It had been heart wrenching to see his suffering over the next day to say the least. She and Slave-Buffy had tried to comfort him all they could, but he just didn’t realize that it was the real her in there, too.
By the time the auction came around, she could hardly wait to get rid of this slave bitch and tell him the truth. He looked so sad and broken when he bought her. She wanted to look in his eyes the whole time, to let him know it was OK… Unfortunately, that wasn’t in Slave-Buffy’s programming.
Her impatience increased tenfold on the way home. Why was Spike taking so long, dammit?! Argh! Now he was wasting time talking to Dawn!
Let me out now!
She wanted to scream.
Let me out so that I can tell you, so that I can make it all better…
He fumbled with the key. Buffy made an internal sigh of exasperation.
He gave Dawn some heroic speech about getting what he deserved.
Oh, I’ll give you what you deserve all right…
And then finally, finally, that stupid Slave-Buffy fell away at his commands. She felt the walls that had restrained her falling away. Her mind stretched out slowly, learning how to take control of her body again.
She blinked once. Twice. Shook her head. And then when she opened her eyes again, she was in full control.
Dawn was in front of her now. Spike seemed to be hiding nervously beside her.
Buffy gave Dawn a quick smile before walking over to Spike…
And punching him in the nose.
Oops! Old Slayer habits died hard…
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