Ship of Fools

There was a knock on the changing room door. Buffy, Cordelia and Harmony, resplendent in their cheerleader uniforms smiled at each other, before Buffy called “Come in.”

The door opened and in stepped Joyce. Buffy had ordered her to dress her in sexy French Maid’s outfit before she’d left that morning. Her slave had followed her instructions, the black and white frilly outfit revealed much more than it concealed, just about covering the Milf’s nipples and cunt. A pair of white suspender’s decorated her shapely thighs, accentuated by the high heels she was wearing.

“Mistress Buffy,” Joyce smiled and bent her head to show she was subservient to her mistress.

“What do you think girls?” asked Buffy.

“Fuckable,” said Harmony.

Cordelia was forced to agree, “Very fuckable.”

Blushing with pleasure Buffy pinched her Mom’s ass. She felt a rush of pride at the two other cheerleaders admiring her property – she was enough of a teenager to want possessions that others desired.

“Show Harm and Cordy your cunt,” instructed Buffy. Dutifully her slave lifted up her skirt to expose her well-trimmed twat. Buffy squeezed again at her Mom’s ass, aware of the jealousy the other two cheerleaders were struggling to suppress – they’d have sold their own souls for a slave.

“Take off your dress,” Buffy ordered. She could hear the whispered murmurs of appreciation as her slave complied, dropping the Maid’s dress to the floor, standing naked and unabashed before the three teens. Buffy smiled; Joyce would do anything she wanted no matter how kinky or perverted – the Milf loved being her daughter’s slave. Still it was important, that before she let the others play with her, that she publicly marked her territory. She sat down on the wooden bench and hoisted up the short cheerleader’s skirt, “Eat me.”

Dropping down Joyce moved her head between Buffy’s thighs and started to tongue out her mistress’s hole. Cordelia and Harmony were no longer able to conceal either their jealous, written on their faces, or their lusts, hands sliding underneath the elastic of their skirts. Buffy didn’t care, she ‘d share Joyce in a minute, but right now the Milf was doing things with her cunt that smacked off an unearthly expertise in pussy eating. Buffy groaned as her clit lit up like a Roman Candle. Wires sparked in her body with each touch of her Mom’s tongue, building up and up.

Buffy knew she was coming to orgasm, the juice welling up inside her like waves against a dam, “Oh that’s good,” she squeaked and let herself go. The gush of girl cum spurted from her cunt splashing against Joyce’s face like a Tsunami, the liquid bubbled and bounced as it hit skin, drenching the Milf, before flooding down her face like a waterfall.

“Mmnnn, that was nice,” said Buffy as Joyce looked at her with the adoration of a new puppy, “You want a go girls?”

Cordelia and Harmony almost became incoherent as they stumbled out their assent. Spreading their legs they sat beside Buffy as Joyce shuffled along and started to lick and suck at Harmony. As the blonde squealed in enjoyment, Buffy got up from the bench and went to her locker. Inside hung three strap-ons, pulling them out Buffy slid one up under her skirt and dropped the other two on the bench. She stood behind Joyce watching her friend lick Harmony to orgasm. The blonde gave a final squeal as she came and Joyce shuffled over to between Cordy’s legs.

Buffy waited until she was down and licking before she moved in. Then, with no preamble, she shoved the dildo up her Mom’s ass. Joyce wailed like she’d been hit by an electric shock.

“Don’t stop,” said Buffy and Cordy in unison. Both of them held Joyce’s head back in position. Buffy waited until she was sure her Mom was firmly in place and then began to energetically butt-fuck her. The back end of the dildo pressed against her clit, sending pulses of pleasure through her everytime she thrusted. And with each heave the cock slammed deep into Joyce’s ass, so that not even the haft was visible. The changing room filled with the sound of flesh hitting flesh, Joyce’s greedy slurps and the cries of teenage delight. Buffy could feel Cordelia shaking in orgasm, the trembles of her body being conducted through Joyce’s body to connect with Buffy’s pussy. She grinned and moved faster, transferring the pleasure back to the orgasming brunette.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” moaned Cordelia, a damp spot marked where she’d been sitting. Buffy continued to pound Joyce’s ass as the Harmony and Cordelia recovered from their orgasms. She moved into a slow relaxed movement, less concerned with conserving her strength that Joyce’s – the last thing she wanted was for the Milf to collapse from exhaustion. It finally looked as if Cordy and Harm had recovered enough for the next bout. Buffy pulled out her strap-on, there was a pop of air.

“You want to DP her whilst I watch?” Buffy asked innocently. She wasn’t surprised that the other two did, pulling on the remaining toys so fast that Buffy wouldn’t have been shocked to see they’d pull away some thigh skin with the leather. She watched as Harmony lay on the bench, before reaching out and giving Joyce’s ass a light slap, “Get on top of her then… hurry up.”

Complying without complaint Joyce lowered her pussy onto the rubber dong. Juice from her wet twat slid down the toy to pool around Harmony’s cunt lips. For a brief while Joyce wiggled into position, but stopped when Cordelia grabbed her ass cheeks. The brunette moved the cock into Joyce’s back hole, Buffy smiled as she saw how easily it glided, her ass reaming had made the hole nice and flexible, Cordy had hardly to put in any effort before the cock was plunged in its full length.

“Aaarrggghhh,” Joyce gave a cry as the two teens began to buck her in unison. Buffy licked her lips, seeing her Mom’s sweaty body sandwiched between the two cheerleaders was a real turn-on. Joyce let out another grunt as Cordelia slammed into her with the force of jackhammer. Buffy felt her pussy get itchy with lust – there was only one thing for it.

Climbing onto the bench, Buffy waggled her dildo in Joyce’s face, “Come and suck it,” she cooed.

Joyce’s head darted forward, just missing getting her lips round it as Buffy pulled the cock back. Again she tried, and again Buffy jerked it away. The teen smiled as her Mom gave a groan, part pain and part lust, but mainly frustration, “Third time lucky?” she grinned.

Joyce’s lips closed round the cock, her teeth touching the rubber for an instant before her body was jerked away by Harmony’s upward thrust. Buffy shuffled forward so that when Joyce’s head jerked forward again the Milf was able to get a better traction. There was a slurping noise as Joyce’s mouth moved round the cock. Leaning forward Buffy grabbed her slave’s shoulder, controlling the movements of the other three. Her pelvis began to move back and forth as she face fucked the slave.

“Take it slut,” Buffy moaned. There was another gulping slurp as the cock battered against Joyce’s throat, saliva dripping from the Milf’s mouth. Buffy was in control, that feeling was almost as enjoyable as the pressure on her clit. Almost… She started to slam harder, not caring about Joyce’s agonised chokes, her water-filled eyes or the white drool which span from her mouth. Her pussy was on fire, burning excitement. In front of her she could see the rapt pleasure on Cordelia’s face as she hammered in and out. Beneath her Buffy could hear Harmony’s shrieks of pleasure as Joyce body was pushed down onto hers.

“Uuurrggghh,” Buffy gave a final groan as sparks flew out her body. She pulled out the cock, letting Joyce choke up a thin gruel of saliva and water, which barely missed dropping onto Harmony.

“Damn she’s good,” Cordelia pulled out panting, her cheerleader uniform was stuck to her skin with sweat and rivulets of perspiration raced through her lipstick. She ran a hand through her hair and small droplets of waters shook themselves free as she did so.

“Yeah,” Buffy grinned, the jealousy on Cordelia’s face was so obvious she doubted that even the brunette would be able to deny it. Not that she was about to ask – they all knew that Buffy owned Joyce – rubbing the other’s noses in it would add nothing to that pleasurable knowledge. Buffy looked at her watch; it would soon be dark and she’d promised to meet Willow. Still Harmony and Cordelia still looked as horny as underused porn stars, “Tell you what, said Buffy, “I’ve got to go, but if you two want to borrow my slave be my guest. Just drop her off at the house before midnight.”

“Does she turn into a pumpkin?” asked Harmony, displaying more knowledge of the literature of fairy tales than Buffy would have credited her with.

“No, but I want to bang her before I go to bed.”

*

Twirling the sword in her hand Faith stepped out from behind the mausoleum. She would have preferred to use a modern assault rifle, but Fred had instructed her the two Gorgorth demons had to be killed the old fashioned way. It had been a long time since Faith had handled a sword, not since she’d been an official Slayer, but like riding a bike there are some things you never forget.

The two Gorgorths were picking through the undergrowth, Faith could hear them speaking – a high pitched whine of gobblygook. The nearest one turned at the sound of her footsteps, his mouth opened and a squeak like a mouse came out. Faith brought the sword down, a perfect killing blow that cleaved at his neck. The Gorgorth deflated like a balloon.

The second one turned, his claw like hands reaching for a pistol holstered at his side. Faith moved forward the sword outstretched in front of her. It pierced the Gorgorth, just below his heart. The pistol dropped to the floor, clanging on an old tombstone as it fell. The Gorgorth dropped beside it, his body shrivelling up until it was just a mass of clothes with what looked like a lump of putty inside it.

Faith dropped the sword back into its scabbard, before wrapping it in a sheet and placing it under her arm. She hurried out of the graveyard to where Fred was waiting in the car.

“It’s done,” Faith opened the door and climbed into the driver’s seat. Her hand reached for the ignition.

“They’re dead? Wait a minute,” Fred played with the camera’s remote control, the pictures of Faith arriving and leaving faded away, to be replaced by a scene of nothing.

“They’re dead…” noticing movement on the road behind her she paused and looked in the rear mirror, “Fuck, Buffy’s coming.”

“Don’t worry,” said Fred she glanced in the mirror and smiled as she saw Buffy and Willow sauntering towards the graveyard, right on time or so they thought, “She’s not after us. You can drive now.”

*

“Where are they?” asked Buffy petulantly. She could have been gang-banging her Mom, instead she was stuck wandering around Sunnydale Cemetery looking for two errant Gorgorth demons.

“Fred said they’d be here,” Willow scratched her chin thoughtfully, “You don’t think it’s an ambush do you?”

“No, if the Government wanted us dead there’s more direct ways,” Buffy replied. Still she tightened her grip on the swords pommel and her other hand stole under her jacket to feel the reassuring touch of wooden stakes.

The two of them continued to prowl the cemetery – it was as silent. She shivered. Once the Sunnydale cemetery would have been teeming with life, or at least undead. The irony was that wasn’t half as nerve wracking as the silence, there seemed to be a tension in the very air as if the graves themselves were watching her.

“Buck up, Buffy,” the blonde murmured to herself, “You’re the Slayer – not a little girl to be bothered by hobgoblins and ghouls, especially when they’re no longer bothering to hide in the shadows.”

“Buffy!” the Slayer jerked round as her friend called out. Willow was pointing at two sets of rags beside a tombstone. Buffy shrugged and walked towards her friend; it was a bit sacrilegious to leave your old clothes draped over a grave, but hardly something to get worked up over. But as she got nearer the redhead, she began to see what had attracted her friend to the rags, an overpowering smell of oily rubber.

The two of them moved closer. A pistol lay on the ground beside one of the bundles. Buffy gulped inwardly; it was a Gorgorth Dragon. Reluctantly she put her sword in one of the jackets and jerked it away. Beneath it lay a deflated piece of rubber, recognisably a dead Gorgorth.

“Damn,” said Buffy.

“Oh dear…” murmured Willow, “What should we do? Call the police?”

“Yeah, because if they find us crouched over the bodies of a couple of demons, an ex-Slayer and her best friend, who’s going to believe we’re here to protect them. No, we leave them where they are and if anyone asks we were with my Mom tonight.”

*

As the scenery flashed past Kate yawned.

“Wind down the window if you’re tired. I don’t want you crashing,” Anyanka instructed.

The window slid down, the air was fresh, or at least as fresh as it could be on an Interstate Highway, but warm. It wasn’t going to help. Kate wound it up again and increased the air conditioning. Anyanka looked down as Kate hand twiddled with the controls, she looked like she was going to say something, but then decided against it - unusual for Anyanka. It was probably because as soon as Anyanka’s mouth opened Kate’s own face moved to show a quiet determination to ignore her captain.

Instead of complaining about the burst of chill air running around the car Anyanka asked, “How far to Sunnydale?”

Kate glanced at the GPS system on the dashboard, “Another hour.”

“We should get there in time for rush hour,” Anyanka grumbled.

Kate merely grunted. She wasn’t the one who been banging on the front door at four in the morning, demanding her detective get dressed and came with her her. Kate still wasn’t sure why they’d been called, Sunnydale was way outside LAPDs jurisdiction and if they didn’t think the local cops were up to investigating the murder of a couple of Gorgorths, well the Department for Non-Human Sentient Relations had its own resources. Still here she was driving towards Sunnydale, with her demon captain in the front seat beside her.

“Why us?” she asked.

“Why us, what?” Anyanka was looking out the window and giving every sign of being bored.

“Why are we investigating, not the Department or the locals?”

There was a shrug from Anyanka, “No idea – I got a call from Darla telling me to get my best… a detective and find out who topped the Gorgorths. I guess that they don’t trust the Sunnydale cops,” she frowned and turned to look at Kate, “And as for the Department, there’s always politics. Take my advice keep out of it – we find who did and get the hell out.”

*

Pushing open the door Darla stepped into the room, just over a dozen irritated demon faces looked up at her. Darla just smiled and took her place; she was late, but deliberately so. If she had appeared flustered at her lack of punctuality there have been tutting and she’d have been ignored. But by stepping in as calm as could be she’d made an entrance, giving herself an imperceptible amount of power over the rest of the Council. And in the politics of the Council a little bit of extra power never went amiss – they were, after all, the real rulers of the Earth.

The Gorgorth demon, the assistant ambassador, Jrath, gave her a stronger look than the others. It was obviously him who had been speaking. As Darla sat down her suspicion was confirmed as he spoke, “As I was saying I have sent two investigators to look into the disappearance of Ambassador Halzaar…”

Darla conspicuously cleared her throat and leaned forward. Jrath stopped what he was saying, she knew he wanted to continue, but he wasn’t a member of the Council and was here by invite only. She was and if she wanted to interrupt him she would, “I’m afraid I have bad news. The two Gorgorth investigators were murdered last night.”

A rumble of surprise went round the room. Inwardly Darla smiled, being the bearer of any tidings, even bad, boosted her in the eyes of the others. She bowed her head in mock respect to the assistant Ambassador, “I have already sent a couple of investigators to look into it,” she turned to D’Hoffryn, “Anyanka and one of her best officers.”

D’Hoffryn nodded, “A good choice,” he conceded.

“This is an outrage,” Jrath blustered, “The humans are getting above themselves. I demand that we take stronger measures.”

“Perhaps we ought to raise Sunnydale to the ground,” suggested Darla.

“Yes… or sacrifice all the first borns in California,” Jrath licked his blubbery lips.

“I’m sure the Council will take your views on board,” Darla leant back in her chair, “but for the moment we do nothing.”

“Sunnydale, isn’t that where the Slayer lives?” the speaker was a small rodent like demon, Darla could never pronounce his name and so internally nicknamed him Ratface.

There was a nod from D’Hoffryn, “Yes. And I understand that Faith has recently moved that way.”

Darla wasn’t sure whether it was her imagination or whether D’Hoffryn stared at her as he said that. Darla decided it was better to acknowledge her relationship with Faith.

“Has she? We were lovers, but I only used her to get inside the Watchers Council. I got rid of her afterwards, she was just too clingy, even as a Slave. I’m afraid I haven’t kept track of her movements.” She was proud of how fluently she could lie.

“Perhaps you should have,” said Ratface, “Or perhaps we should have killed them when we had the chance.”

“Enough,” said D’Hoffyrn, “We do not know it was the Slayers.”

“Though I wouldn’t bet against it being Buffy,” murmured Darla. She judged the volume just right, quiet enough that the Council members would think she was talking to herself, but loud enough that her comment was heard by those nearest. It would soon get around what she had said, they didn’t all need to hear it.

“What?” Ratface asked.

“Nothing,” Darla smiled and bowed her head to show she was finished speaking.

On the far side of the table, D’Hoffyrn leaned back, “I think the best thing to do at the moment is send our apologies to the Gorgorth and wait for the investigation to finish. Agreed?”

There was a rumble of assent from all round the table, except for Jrath, who looked like he wanted blood immediately and Darla, who sat examining the paintings on the far wall.

“Thank you, Assistant Ambassador, you can go now,” Ratface spoke.

Jrath sulkily stood up and waddled to the door. Just as he got there he turned, “We will want the killers. If not you’ll find we are a dangerous enemy.”

The Council ignored him, instead D’Hoffryn turned to the agenda “Item three, the Natfeds want to open a portal between their dimension and Berlin – any views?”

The rest of the meeting quickly went by, there were no important items and the majority of actions went through almost on the nod. The demons picked up their papers and started to leave. Darla headed to the door, but D’Hoffryn took her by her arm and gently, but firmly, pulled her aside.

“I don’t know what game you are playing, Darla,” he said.

The vampire tried to give an expression of innocence, “I am not playing any game.”

“Oh,” D’Hoffryn smiled, “but you are. Do not give me that affronted look I know you’re a manipulative schemer. Be careful Darla, the Council’s power only goes so far, as does it patience.”

“If I was playing a game I’d take your advice,” Darla said, she turned to leave the room, then paused and turned, “Can I give you some advice as well?”

D’Hoffryn nodded and Darla continued, “It’s always important to be on the winning side.”

For a second D’Hoffyrn just looked at her, then he gave a small bow, “I shall remember that.”