Bad, Bad Thing

Chapter 12--The Saga Continues...

Buffy knew it had to be kept a secret. As badly as she wanted to share with her friends, she did not. She never even talked about Mr. William in any context, though when they were bitching about how hard he was, she couldn’t help but snicker. And then get mad, because what right did they have to criticize him anyway? She didn’t even write about their trysts in her journal. She didn’t want to leave any incriminating evidence, and she knew by experience that her private journal was rarely private.

For his part, Mr. William didn’t treat her any different in class. Her grade hovered around a B, which is where her English grade had always been. The other day he chastised her in class for giggling and whispering with her girlfriend…and then he “chastised” her that night too.

Buffy hated the fact that she had to be so careful to keep it a secret. She was an adult, technically, she should be able to sleep with anybody she wanted, right? Unfortunately, that was not how the world worked, and so the weeks passed in a cloak of secrecy.

Being with him though, sneaking away to meet him, surrendering to him completely when he asked for it, was more exhilarating than anything she could have possibly imagined. Some days he looked at her a certain way, and she felt like she could come right there, just from that. The things he could do, and the things he could get her to do, were absolutely, unbelievably mind-blowing.

“I have something for you,” he said one night as he released the knots around her wrists.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm-hmmm.” He reached beneath the bed and pulled out a cardboard box. It was too dark for Buffy to see what was printed on it.

He opened it and removed what looked like a belt. She took it from him and examined it carefully. It was a belt, but it had a plastic butterfly on the front.

“What is this?”

“It’s a vibrator.”

“What’s this?” She held a small, remote in her hand.

“It’s a remote. Look.” He stood up and walked across the room, then pressed the button. Suddenly, the butterfly was vibrating in her hand.

“Wow.”

“Put it on.”

She stood up and pulled it on.

“How does that feel?” He asked.

She adjusted it until it was right above her clit. “It feels good.”

“It’s comfortable?”

“Yeah.”

Spike moved her hair away from her shoulder and planted small kisses on her skin. “Good, I want you to wear it tomorrow.”

“What?”

“Wear it tomorrow,” he repeated.

“I can’t,” she protested.

He turned it on, and she gasped. It was on the lowest setting, but it was almost powerful enough to stimulate her extremely sensitive sex into another orgasm.

“Wear it.” This wasn’t a request, it was a command.

“All day?”

He turned it off. “All day.”

“Ok.”

He continued to idly trail kisses across her shoulder and neck. “You won’t regret it.”

And Buffy trusted him, because he had never lied to her before.

The next morning she dressed carefully to conceal the vibrator slung low on her hips. She had forgotten to ask him how far away he had to be for the remote to work, and so she was slightly nervous. Would he start buzzing her in the middle of math? Because that could be catastrophic.

All day, she was distracted by the toy between her legs. It was all she could think of. She tried to prepare herself for it, so that it wouldn’t catch her off guard. But she did so in vain, because he didn’t use it once during the day.

Buffy got to her English class early, so she could talk to him about it. Or at least get some sort of clue of what he was thinking about. But he was busy with another student, and so she could only sit down and pull her notebook out, doing her best to look and act completely casual. Which was hard to do, because just being in his presence was enough to make her achingly aroused.

The student finally left, and Buffy glanced up. Mr. William—looking absolutely plain and stodgy in a tweed suit of all things—met her eyes and gave her a lazy, wicked smile. Her breath caught in her throat and then it started and her heart jumped to her throat. She gulped hard and looked down, allowing her hair to veil her flushed cheeks. It was hard to keep from at least whimpering, because shock waves were shooting up her legs, into her groin, and spreading throughout her body.

She could feel the screuilduilding in the back of her throat, and there was no way she would be able to stop it. Just when she thought she was going to die, it stopped. Her body went lax, and she took a deep breath. Buffy looked up and Mr. William quirked in eye brow, a smirk tugging at his lips.

It was going to be the longest hour of her life. She just knew it.

Buffy wondered if any of her classmates noticed that Mr. William stayed behind his desk for the entire lecture. That wasn’t his usual style. Usually he paced through the room, forcing the students to follow him with their eyes as they tried to take notes. Quite frankly, it was distracting, but it didn’t take Buffy long to learn that he had a lot of energy, and it was nearly impossible for him to hold still.

But that afternoon, he didn’t move beyond his desk.

“I trust that everybody has finished their reading?”

A few groans, a few nods of affirmation.

“I hope so, because there is a pop quiz on it. Everybody take out a pencil and some paper.”

More groans, and thankfully, the cloaked Buffy’s groan as she climaxed. It wasn’t a particularly powerful one, or a long one, but it was enough to make her short of breath and flushed. He turned it off, and she sighed with relief.

“Ok folks, no talking, don’t cheat. You know the drill. Question number one, what was Willy Lohman’s job?”

Oh, a soft ball question. Buffy could answer this, if if her brain was practically push, and her pussy was still aching, and her stomach was rolled up in knots over the anticipation. After all, she knew the title of the play.

Buffy didn’t even hear the next question. Her clit was buzzing at a higher speed than before, and all she could hear was the blood roaring in her ear. How could she possibly remain silent when he did that? How could she possibly answer the questions when he ohholfyfuckohwhatthefuckwasthatohgodohgodohgod.

The second orgasm was more powerful than the first one, and she couldn’t be sure, but she thought a moan did escape. Her friend, Willow, gave her an odd look.

“Are you ok?” She whispered, risking the wrath of Mr. William by speaking.

Buffy nodded, unable to speak. She didn’t trust her own voice.

“Are you sure? Your face looks really red.”

“Ms. Rosenburg,” Spike said sharply, and her attention was jerked away from Buffy.

“Sorry,” she muttered, returning her gaze to her notebook.

“Question 4…”

Question 4? Question 4? What the hell had happened to question 3? She was so worried about missing the third question that she didn’t even hear the forth question. She stared at her nearly blank notebook, nearing panic. He had been very, very careful to keep her grades out of their relationship and now here he was…


Fuck, he did it again. This time at the lowest level again, and instead of pushing her to another orgasm, it made her feel rather boneless and relaxed. It was like a really good foot massage. But it was just as dangerous, because she still couldn’t concentrate. How much would this quiz be worth on her grade? Because she absolutely could not drop to a C.

He didn’t bother to turn the vibrator off for the duration of the quiz. She had enough brainpower to write something resembling an answer, but she knew the answers weren’t very good, and doubted they were even correct. It was extremely hard to concentrate on the questions. After several minutes, the third orgasm of the afternoon began to build, and when that dam finally burst, it wasn’t earth shattering, but rather mellow. She felt like she could float away, and as she tilted her head back slightly in bliss, he finally turned it off.

“Ok, pass your quizzes forward.”

She looked at her nearly blank page and winced. She scribbled a quick “sorry” on her paper, and passed it forward. At least she was at the front of the row, and didn’t have to worry about any of her classmates seeing that she only answered one question.

Mr. William’s voice remained steady and calm, and as far as she could tell, this wasn’t having an effect on him at all. She was happy for the respite, and did her best to take notes when he launched into his discussion of the play. But she was distracted by his voice.

He had a nice voice. A deep timbre, a soothing accent, calm, authoritative. She loved listening to him speak, and it thrilled her to the very core when she thought of the things he whispered to her. Her classmates would only ever hear him recite facts of boring old books, but she had the memory of his detailing how much he wanted her, how sweet she tasted, how good she felt.

Finally the bell rang, and everybody quickly filed out, eager to get a jump-start on their weekend. Thankfully, not a single student stopped to negotiate a grade, excuse a late homework assignment, or otherwise shoot the breeze. Mr. William nodded pleasantly at them as the passed, and when the last student left, shutting the door behind her, he released a long held breath.

“In the office. Now.”

Buffy stood up, and on shaking legs, made her way across the classroom to the office. He followed her, shut the door, locked it, then grabbed her and crushed his mouth to hers. He unzipped his fly and freed his cock—hard and wet with pre-come.

Mr. William liked games, liked to tease her, liked to draw the pleasure out of her slowly, but he wasn’t interested in any of that. Before she had time to even think of what he was doing, he had her bent over the desk, and was ramming his dick into her.

“Needed you so bad,” he gasped. “Need to feel you.”

“Oh god,” she moaned, “oh god, oh god, oh god, that feels so good.”

“Did you like that? I liked watching you come, right there in the middle of class. Could have watched you for hours.”

“Uh huh, yes, oh, don’t stop doing that.”

“Come right now, come for me.” It was his voice that set off the fuse. At that point, he could have started reciting a dictionary, and the fireworks would have exploded in front of her eyes. Within mere seconds of hearing his words, she was clenching her muscles around his cock, wringing the orgasm out of him as her world exploded and shattered again and again.

“That’s a good girl,” he moaned. “Oh, that’s my good girl.”

They both collapsed to the floor, she settling on his lap, resting her head on his shoulder. He idly traced patterns on her thighs as they waited for their hearts to slow.

“I didn’t finish the quiz,” she finally admitted, somehow more guilty about that than she should have been. It tore her up to think that she would displease him in anyway, and nothing displeased Mr. William more than incomplete assignments.

“Huh?”

“The quiz…I didn’t finish it.”

“Oh Buffy, I didn’t expect you to.”

“No?”

“No, of course not. Why would I?”

“I don’t know…”

“Don’t worry about it, love.”

She nodded, perfectly content. She didn’t have anything planned for the weekend, and she really hoped he would invite her to spend time with him. She didn’t want to leave his protective embrace.