Spiked
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
2,143
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
2,143
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 6 - Challenger
Chapter 6 - Challenger
The girls had not wasted their shopping trip. The room was completely awash in candlelight, there must have been a hundred of them in various sizes and shapes, tapers, votives, jars. Hidden amongst them was the tiniest hint of scent, vanilla mixed with musk, no doubt a Cordelia custom mix and, from the look of them, they were all three oiled up with individual variations of it. Their skin glowed gold and shimmering.
When Spike came to, he thought he'd been lost in some fantasy of heaven. Before him were the three most beautiful women he'd ever seen in his life, each one a portrait of perfection in their dress, their appearance, their expressions. They were a sublime mixture of sex kitten and mistress of pain. Exquisite was the only word that even came close.
Baby's hair shown almost auburn in the subdued light, tumbling about her shoulders in billows of wavey curls, the ultimate compliment to her deep, almost hunter green corsette and thong, laced up tight with a generous portion of bosom exposed. She stood next to the bed, one knee resting on it, which allowed just a peek at her creamy inner thigh. Black silk hose and garters hugged her legs and 3" spiked heels supported her dainty feet. In her hand she held a turn-of-the-century feather duster, looked like pheasant, not that he cared. Knowing what he knew about Baby, this was not her usual modus operandi. He could hardly tear his eyes from her, except to glance at the raven beauty next to her.
Drusilla, who rarely wore anything but frilly period frocks, was wrapped in a stunning black merry widow with red lace trim and grommets. She was brazen enough to allow the top of her nipples to show, for her Wesley, their puckering buttons calling to him from their tightly laced home. It was very obviously custom made. Her hair was up in front but cascaded into curls down her back. Her lips, usually a blood red, were black. The contours of her face where shadowed in black, adding emphasis to her stunning bone structure with tiny, painted tattoos of black flowers at her temples as well as one over her left breast. Her legs were covered with the same black silk as Baby. She held in her hand long strands of red, satin ribbon, which stood out starkly against the black bodice.
Cordelia, tall and lithe, stood before them in a brown leather corset with antique-looking brass fittings, the bend and mold of it exquisite on her. It was carved in intricate patterns which emphasized the more voluptuous portions of her frame. Her skin was tan, which made the effect even more enticing. She'd gotten some sun while they were in Sunnydale. She also had obviously been born in the wrong century, she belonged in this type of clothing. She wore little else save the same garters and black silk stockings and spiked heels the others wore. Her hair was bound up, a few tendrils tickling her neck and drawing emphasis to where Angel had marked her. She had a new tattoo over her left breast, a tiny duplicate of the celtic gryphon on Angel's back, the A portions encased with a C. It was stunningly detailed and strategically placed so that anything remotely low cut would reveal it rather proudly. She had a riding crop in her hand.
Together, they looked like three phases of seduction .... tickle them with kindness, tie them down, or beat them into submission. They were brilliant and breathtaking ... and they were theirs.
The three women smiled seductively at the row of men before them, each one obviously overwhelmed with the beauty before them and each one sporting his own personal hard on. They looked like a row of flagpoles in front of an embassy. The girls loved it. But they weren't quite through yet. They had taken their breath away, such as they had, and Wesley was finally beginning to breathe again, though he could hardly tear his eyes from Drusilla. Now it was time for the main event.
Cordy nodded to the other two and the three of thebracbraced and fondled one another as they exchanged deep and probing kisses, then they parted and moved away from the bed revealing what was hidden behind them. A rosey-colored female human bottom faced them, her ankles were wrapped together by red, satin ribbon, the same color as Dru was holding, and they could only assume her wrists were bound as well, and there were signs of a gag tied around her head. The men looked curiously at one another, and without moving closer took another look. She was mostly clothed, except for her ass which was blatantly revealed and where there was emblazoned in dark, tattoo ink a single word .... "William" ... in beautiful calligraphy. An odd surprise from them but apparently the women had wanted their numbers to be even considering the day's events had been decidedly male dominant. The girl was unconscious and obviously a gift for the younger Spike. William. No one called him William, except occasionally Angel, and ...
Spike's eyes flew open and he looked at the other three men desperately, his mouth open but nothing coming out. They were still lost in a haze of lust for their individual women and not responding very quickly until they felt him panic. He moved urgently toward the bed, they followed. As he got closer, his fears were confirmed. He gently turned her over. There, tied and gagged on the bed, was Buffy.
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The girls had not wasted their shopping trip. The room was completely awash in candlelight, there must have been a hundred of them in various sizes and shapes, tapers, votives, jars. Hidden amongst them was the tiniest hint of scent, vanilla mixed with musk, no doubt a Cordelia custom mix and, from the look of them, they were all three oiled up with individual variations of it. Their skin glowed gold and shimmering.
When Spike came to, he thought he'd been lost in some fantasy of heaven. Before him were the three most beautiful women he'd ever seen in his life, each one a portrait of perfection in their dress, their appearance, their expressions. They were a sublime mixture of sex kitten and mistress of pain. Exquisite was the only word that even came close.
Baby's hair shown almost auburn in the subdued light, tumbling about her shoulders in billows of wavey curls, the ultimate compliment to her deep, almost hunter green corsette and thong, laced up tight with a generous portion of bosom exposed. She stood next to the bed, one knee resting on it, which allowed just a peek at her creamy inner thigh. Black silk hose and garters hugged her legs and 3" spiked heels supported her dainty feet. In her hand she held a turn-of-the-century feather duster, looked like pheasant, not that he cared. Knowing what he knew about Baby, this was not her usual modus operandi. He could hardly tear his eyes from her, except to glance at the raven beauty next to her.
Drusilla, who rarely wore anything but frilly period frocks, was wrapped in a stunning black merry widow with red lace trim and grommets. She was brazen enough to allow the top of her nipples to show, for her Wesley, their puckering buttons calling to him from their tightly laced home. It was very obviously custom made. Her hair was up in front but cascaded into curls down her back. Her lips, usually a blood red, were black. The contours of her face where shadowed in black, adding emphasis to her stunning bone structure with tiny, painted tattoos of black flowers at her temples as well as one over her left breast. Her legs were covered with the same black silk as Baby. She held in her hand long strands of red, satin ribbon, which stood out starkly against the black bodice.
Cordelia, tall and lithe, stood before them in a brown leather corset with antique-looking brass fittings, the bend and mold of it exquisite on her. It was carved in intricate patterns which emphasized the more voluptuous portions of her frame. Her skin was tan, which made the effect even more enticing. She'd gotten some sun while they were in Sunnydale. She also had obviously been born in the wrong century, she belonged in this type of clothing. She wore little else save the same garters and black silk stockings and spiked heels the others wore. Her hair was bound up, a few tendrils tickling her neck and drawing emphasis to where Angel had marked her. She had a new tattoo over her left breast, a tiny duplicate of the celtic gryphon on Angel's back, the A portions encased with a C. It was stunningly detailed and strategically placed so that anything remotely low cut would reveal it rather proudly. She had a riding crop in her hand.
Together, they looked like three phases of seduction .... tickle them with kindness, tie them down, or beat them into submission. They were brilliant and breathtaking ... and they were theirs.
The three women smiled seductively at the row of men before them, each one obviously overwhelmed with the beauty before them and each one sporting his own personal hard on. They looked like a row of flagpoles in front of an embassy. The girls loved it. But they weren't quite through yet. They had taken their breath away, such as they had, and Wesley was finally beginning to breathe again, though he could hardly tear his eyes from Drusilla. Now it was time for the main event.
Cordy nodded to the other two and the three of thebracbraced and fondled one another as they exchanged deep and probing kisses, then they parted and moved away from the bed revealing what was hidden behind them. A rosey-colored female human bottom faced them, her ankles were wrapped together by red, satin ribbon, the same color as Dru was holding, and they could only assume her wrists were bound as well, and there were signs of a gag tied around her head. The men looked curiously at one another, and without moving closer took another look. She was mostly clothed, except for her ass which was blatantly revealed and where there was emblazoned in dark, tattoo ink a single word .... "William" ... in beautiful calligraphy. An odd surprise from them but apparently the women had wanted their numbers to be even considering the day's events had been decidedly male dominant. The girl was unconscious and obviously a gift for the younger Spike. William. No one called him William, except occasionally Angel, and ...
Spike's eyes flew open and he looked at the other three men desperately, his mouth open but nothing coming out. They were still lost in a haze of lust for their individual women and not responding very quickly until they felt him panic. He moved urgently toward the bed, they followed. As he got closer, his fears were confirmed. He gently turned her over. There, tied and gagged on the bed, was Buffy.
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