Getting Over It

Willow hadn’t been back to Giles’ place for three days. She barely ate, and still hadn’t slept; she was even having trouble studying. At first Buffy didn’t notice, being too busy with her new boy-toy, Riley, but when Giles mentioned how she had rushed off the other day, Buffy started watching her closer and it was evident there was something wrong.

“I don’t know Giles, it’s probably just a fresh wave of break-up blues,” Buffy said, trying to dismiss the problem so she could go on her date with Riley, guilt free.

“Perhaps, but I don’t think so. She was talking to Spike, they seemed to be having an argument or something, and then she just rushed out.”

“Well, did Spike say anything about what happened?”

“Not really, he insinuated that perhaps she was on drugs.”

“Oh right! Willow doesn’t even like to take aspirin. Maybe Spike just needs me to jog his memory a little,” Buffy suggested hopefully.

“I doubt it would help, but maybe you could speak with Willow, make sure she’s alright?” Giles suggested.

“Fine, I’ll talk to miss-mopey-pants, but tomorrow, ‘after’ my date.”

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Willow felt like she was going to drop. She had only been able to sleep for a few minutes here and there, for the last several days now. Every time she started to doze off, a strange sensation would take over her body, and she would bolt awake in fear. She sat on her bed, trying to focus on her psych book, but the lines just blurred together. Exhaustion overtook her and she finally collapsed, pushing her books to the floor, and drifting int alm almost coma-like state.

Willow’s eyes opened several hours later. ‘Well it’s about time the bitch went to sleep,’ she thought. The redhead glanced over to see the slayer sleeping soundly in her little bed, as she headed over to the closet to get dressed. ‘Ugh! Isn’t there anything in here that isn’t pastel and fuzzy?’ Giving up, she decided to try her luck with Buffy’s closet instead. ‘Well, these are my choices; look like a child, or look like a hooker. Hooker it is!’ she thought as she pulled out a black backless halter top, which was held in place by two tiny straps, along with a short, green, suede mini skirt. She glanced at herself I the mirror when she was done dressing, ‘not bad,’ she thought.

She wanted to have good time. Willow was a girl in desperate need of a good time, but sadly the bronze was dead. She looked around, seeing mostly high school kids, and groaned in frustration. Where could a girl go for a little fun in this town? Then she remembered the last time she went out to play. Spike, he was fun. She grinned evilly, heading out; she just had to make a little stop at the magic shop first.

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The scantily clad redhead used a simple incantation to open the door of the watcher’s apartment, and crept quietly upstairs to see Giles’ sleeping form lying partially covered in his oversized bed. Her eyes scanned his well toned torso, he was lacking the chiseled look that Spike had, but still, not bad. ‘Maybe next time I’ll have to play with him,’ she thought to herself as she blew something resembling sugar into his eyes.

“Sleep soundly, watcher-man, and dream about me,” she whispered in his ear, tracing her fingers down his chest and across his quickly rising erection. She smiled to herself and headed back downstairs.

Spike was still up, of course. Being a vampire, he kept different hours than most. Willow could hear him, watching some late night horror movie, and yelling at the television.

“Hah! I told you you’d get eaten if you went in there, stupid bint!” he called out with glee.

“And will I get eaten if I come in here?” Willow asked with mock innocence as she slinked in the door.

“Well, well, well. Isn’t it awfully late for Little Red to be out of her beddy bye?”

“I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself,” she said, sitting on the edge of the tub and leaning over to allow him a pleasant view of her cleavage, “Unless of course ‘you’ want to take care of me?” She reached one hand down and stroked the growing bulge in his pants.

“Oh, so now you ‘do’ remember our little encounter the other day?” Spike asked, trying to maintain control over his impulse to pounce on her.

“How could I forget? It was the best fuck I ever had,” she noticed the smug look on Spike’s face and added, holding up the key to his shackles, “but I think you can still do better.”

“I’m sure I could, pet. Does this mean you’re going to let me go?” he asked hopefully.

“Only for playtime, then you’ll have to go back in the tub I’m afraid,” the redhead said as she stroked his chest.

“Well, that’s something at least,” he replied, having no intention of returning to his little prison once they were through, “What about the watcher?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about him. He won’t hear a thing, I promise.”

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Giles was standing in an open field, surrounded by wildflowers, the sun shining brightly overhead. He tilted his head back, with closed eyes, so he could feel its warmth on his face.

“Giles?” a soft voice whispered in his ear, “Dreaming of me?”

He opened his eyes, and turned to see Willow, beautiful and gloriously naked, the summer sun making her pale skin glow. He reached out to her, too in awe to speak, brushing a thumb across one rosy tipped breast, his other hand cupping her firm ass as he pulled her close for a kiss. Her mouth tasted of honey and wild strawberries, and promised him things he had only imagined in his darkest fantasies. He pulled her closer, his throbbing cock pressing into her stomach, as he lowered the two of them to the ground to make love, surrounded by flowers and beauty…

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Willow led Spike out to the living room by the hand; he had no idea what he was in for. She glanced around for a moment, her eyes falling on the ‘dining room’ table, perfect. She walked over to it and unceremoniously swept all the papers and books stacked upon it, onto the floor with a loud crash. Spike glanced upstairs, waiting for the watcher to come down and stake them both, but true to her word, he apparently couldn’t hear them.

“Strip,” she commanded him.

He complied with her wishes, pulling off his shirt to reveal his alabaster flesh. He bent over to undo his laces, and Willow watched with desire as the muscles in his back flexed with each movement. Having removed his boots, he stood again before her, and slowly began undoing his pants. He was trying to tease her, to gain the upper hand somehow, but as much as she was enjoying the show, they both knew who had the power in this scenario, and it was her.

“Get on the table.”

Spike strolled over to the table, his hand stroking his abdomen, a smile playing across his lips. He was going to like this game, he could tell already. He hopped up onto the wooden surface, stretching out, and placing his hands behind his head for cushion. It was Willow’s turn to smile.

“Sealnaiya S’vyaz,” she muttered in an unknown tongue.

Suddenly his arms and legs were pulled outward, spread eagle, and held tight to the table by some unknown force. Spike struggled to get up, but he was unable to, as if his wrists and ankles were glued in place. He looked at her, somewhat in fear then. He was helpless. True he had also been helpless while chained in the bathtub, but at least then he’d had his clothes, being naked has a way of making one feel more vulnerable.

Willow could practically smell his fear, and it was turning her on beyond belief. She opened her shoulder bag and began taking out an assortment of items; various vials containing unknown liquids, a leathtraptrap, a bundle of twigs, a thin-bladed dagger, and more objects Spike couldn’t quite make out. All these things she laid out on a nearby trunk, much as a doctor would with their instruments. Now he was really scared.

“So, what’s your pleasure?” she asked, picking up the dagger and twirling it about in her hands, but Spike just stared at her, unsure what to say. He had played these games with Dru in the pasut hut he was always the one who had the control. Spike simply wasn’t the submissive type, until now.

“Oh, what’s the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?” as she said this, she allowed the dagger to slice the tip of her finger, blood welling up in its wake.

Holding her hand above his head, she watched in delight as he strained to catch the flow that was slowly dripping from the fresh wound. She lowered her hand far enough that he could just reach it by snaking his tongue out, lapping up the crimson drops as a cat would lap up cream. In fact, he began making a sound, not unlike purring, as he reveled in the taste of her. Her blood was so powerful, full of magic. He had forgotten all about his fear, and was completely unaware of the world around him; his eyes closed with almost ecstasy, until he felt the blade of the dagger slice him across the chest.

“Owww! Bloody hell, what was that for?!”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she said with false sympathy, which quickly turned to laughter, “Don’t you like this game?”

She bent over him, tracing the shallow wound with her tongue, equally enjoying his taste. Spike moaned. Having recovered from the initial shock of his injury, he realized that the wound was only superficial, and actually not all that unpleasant. Willow saw his eyes close again in pleasure, and again she sliced him across his torso, but this time when he cried out, it was with a mixture of torment and bliss. As she ran her tongue along the fresh wound, she allowed her hand to slip momentarily between his legs, to caress his hard shaft, but soon her hand was gone, and he groaned in frustration, until he felt her once again dragging the cold metal blade across the tender flesh of his abdomen.

They went on like this for some time. With each cut, Willow would gently lick his wound and briefly stroke his manhood, before repeating her actions on some other part of his body. She paused after what seemed like an eternity of teasing, looking down on his prone form, now covered in shallow cuts, starting from just below his neck and ending near his ankles. His eyes had been closed for some time as a stream of constant moaning escaped his lips. At first glance one might think he was barely conscious from blood loss, and they might be right, but his unwavering erection betrayed his arousal.

Willow quickly disrobed, while allowing her toy a moment to recover. Then, grabbing one of the vials off the trunk, she uncorked it, and began sprinkling it liberally over his body. As each drop touched his marred flesh, a minute cloud of smoke rose up, along with a slight sizzle as the holy water burned his pale s Spi Spike’s eyes flew open, but he didn’t cry out, instead he simply looked at Willow with overwhelming desire, the pain simply increasing his arousal at this point. It was time. She had brought his hunger to a new level, and her own along with it. She placed the vial back on the trunk, and picked up a small item he couldn’t quite see through his half closed lids.

Willow climbed onto the table, leaning over to give his nipple a sharp bite. Spike cried out briefly, sure that he would soon explode, but the fiery vixen simply laughed, trailing her hand down his abdomen, and up his hard cock. He hissed with the contact, closing his eyes again. Taking his manhood between her hands, she slid a metal ring down his swollen shaft with some difficulty, hopefully ensuring that he would be unable to cum until she wanted him to. Spike moaned again, feebly pulling at his magic bindings, wishing he were free to touch her in return.

She had waited long enough. Willow straddled his hips, positioning his head at her hot, wet opening.

“Change,” she commanded, “I want to see your demon again.”

Spike raised his head, fixing his blue eyes on her green ones, so she could watch as they shifted to gold. She lightly ran her hand across his brow ridges, and smiled. Then without warning, she impaled herself on his hard cock, causing them both to cry out. After the hours of foreplay, their bodies were completely over sensitized; they were both close to ready, especially Spike.

He tried to hold himself back, but her heat was searing, it possessed him. He felt himself start to fall as the tightness began in his balls, spreading up to his cock, his body nearing its release, but suddenly it stopped, blocked by the cock ring. He cried out again with a mixture of anguish and ecstasy, unable to achieve his release as Willow rode him with wild abandon.

She was close, her hips bucking hard, her hthrothrown back in rapture, bottom lip clasped between her teeth. Then it hit her, like a wonderful fluttering, beginning in her abdomen and spreading outward through her body. Her skin flushed, eyes half closed, Spike had never seen a more beautiful site than the goddess writhing on top of him. Willow cried out, her muscles clamping down hard on Spike’s now painful erection, causing him to cry out as well. She rode out the last waves of her pleasure, unaware of his needs; until she finally glanced down to see the look of discomfort and desperation on his face.

“Oh, poor baby, do you want to cum too?” she asked in a patronizing tone, trying to catch her breath.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Yes, Mistress,” she corrected.

“Yes, Mistress, please!” he begged.

Willow rose up so he could slide out of her. Then, straddling his belly, she removed the cock ring. Spike let out a loud groan as long ropes of cum shot out of his cock, coating her abdomen and breasts, while he shook with the force of his orgasm. When he was through, she climbed off of him, and muttering something under her breath, released him from his bindings.

“Now, lick me clean,” she commanded, eyeing him with a smirk.

Spike pulled his aching body up weakly, looking at her with reverence, and lowered his mouth to her breast to begin lapping up his own essence. Once she was again ‘clean’, he raised his mouth to kiss her, but like before, she pulled back. This was about sex, not intimacy.

Smiling she hopped off the table and began dressing. Spike taking this as his cue, did the same. He was very weak from their encounter, and swayed dangerously as he tried to do up his boots. Willow pushed him onto the couch before he could fall over. Maybe she had gone too hard on him. She went into the kitchen and heated him a packet of blood, not bothering with the mug. By the time he was finishedssinssing, she had returned, tossing the hot packet in his direction. He punctured the pouch with one fang, and drank it down with enthusiasm, felling slightly better.

“Well, it’s time to get back in the tub,” she said as she placed her belongings back in her bag for another day.

“And what makes you think I’d do that?” he asked with more confidence than he felt.

“Well, let’s see, for starters the sun will be up soon. Also, right now you’re too weak to defend yourself against the host of beasties wandering around out there. Oh, and let’s not forget, because ‘I said so’,” she said with a slight smile and a hard stare.

“And that means something?”

“Yeah,” she strolled toward him, and lightly ran her hand across his chest, making him shiver, “It means that if you don’t get back in the god damned tub, you and I will never get to have play time again.”

He looked deeply into her green, lamp like eyes, which suddenly seemed almost alien, and shivered again. Then, with a nod of defeat, he headed back to his white tile prison.

To be continued…