The Sire and a Childe
They were playing her favourite game tonight. She was kneeling in the middle of her the bedroom, her knees apart. Her hands were bound at the wrists and elbows behind her back. She was not gagged, but she was not allowed to speak. It was her turn to be a Childe.
There were clamps on her nipples and the lips of her labia. It was starting to get really painful but she did not mind; the vibrator in her pussy had been working on and off for the longest time. Its irregularity was driving her insane with lust.
It seemed like she had been bound for hours but it could not be more than two. Although the extra resilience of her abnormally strong body allowed her to be less affected than the average human would, her muscles had finally started to tire. The tremors of pleasure, when she thought she would come the next instant, were alternated by the waves of bitter disappointment when the vibrator shut off unexpectedly.
Oh, how she loved this game.
“Come here.”
Sighing in relief, the Childe started to stand.
“Did I tell you to stand?” The sharp voice rang through the room.
The Childe quickly dropped back on her knees and crawled towards the bed where her Sire sat. She desperately wanted to apologise, but she was not allowed to speak and she was too scared to disobey.
Next she was told to lie on her stomach on the bed, her knees still on the carpet. The fluids were dripping down her thighs and she fought off a moan as she anticipated the first blow.
However the first touch she felt was gentle. Her Sire was slowly stroking her buttock. Now the Childe did moan.
A sharp smack came down between her legs and she moaned from the intense sensation of pain and pleasure.
“I told you to stay quiet, did I not?” her Sire asked.
The Childe did not answer; she couldn't.
“I think you deserve a serious punishment now. What do you think?”
The vibrator was violently twisted inside of her and she had to bury her face in the sheets to prevent her groan from escaping.
“I see...”
The Childe trembled with fear and excitement. She had no idea what her Sire had 'seen'. It could be equally good as it could be bad and not knowing turned her on more than anything.
She heard her Sire rummaging in a chest of drawers and then come back to the bed.
“Raise your head and open up.”
A gag! The Child felt the urgent need to thank her Sire for helping her maintain the required silence.
When the gag was fastened behind her head, and the strap that ran under her chin to insure the minimum movement was secured, she was again pushed down on the bed. Then the loving fondling of her backside resumed.
The Childe closed her eyes in bliss only to open them as one sharp blow landed on the delicate skin between her thighs and rear end. She bit into the gag in preparation of the next blow, but it took her by surprise again, because it landed much lower. Then the vibrator sprung to life and the next blow came onto her open and vulnerable labia. She almost came.
“Liked that, did you Childe? Well, I need to do something about that then.”
The vibrator was removed and the spanking resumed. It was glorious, exhilarating and painful. It was amazing. When the Childe thought that she couldn’t possibly take any more, it stopped.
“Shh... It's okay, Childe. You did great. You may make a sound now, if you need to.”
She heard a smile in her Sire's voice and felt on top of the world. But then the clamps from her labia were removed and she wanted to cry. She did.
Her labia were pulsating pain and she felt some kind of ointment being applied and it felt really good. It was cool and soothing at first, then slightly warm, hot, and finally it started to burn.
A blinding pain shot through her as she felt something penetrate her from behind, but it was not where the delightful burn was; it was in her second entrance. Something cold and metallic was shoved inside her and it moved in and out in a rapid motion. Her Sire had started the ride.
The Childe cried and groaned. She blessed her Sire and cursed the pain, but soon it wasn’t important any more if the pleasure came with pain. She never wanted it to stop. The Childe knew she was probably bleeding but it still felt good. Besides, it meant that she would be fed with Sire's blood afterwards.
It felt amazing, so very amazing, but still not good enough. The Childe wanted to come; she needed to come. Finally the metal was removed. She was anxious to feel the dildo in her pussy, but instead, her Sire knelt down and a cool tongue started to lick away the blood that was mingled with her other fluids. The tongue lapped everything up. Meticulously it moved up and then down and up again; over the outer lips of her pussy and inside and outside of the smaller hole as the Childe gasped and whimpered. Soon, she was coming.
Afterwards, she was freed of her bonds and they both vamped. The Child drank from her Sire's wrist while her Sire bit into her jugular vein.
She loved her new mistress.
Buffy woke to an amazing sensation. She felt wonderful and it took her a moment to understand that Spike was buried inside her. His cool body was touching her back and Buffy mewled. It was still dark; they had time.
He moved languorously, tortuously slowly inside of her. Buffy was lying on her side and as there was no wall in front of her, she clutched the sheets with her fists. Then a bigger hand grasped her left gently into his. She opened her eyes to look at him over the shoulder.
“Don't,” he said quietly into her ear.
A tremor ran through her. Now he raised both of her hands over her head, and held them there. The other started exploring her body; her breasts and neck, then down her stomach and... past her throbbing mound, not touching it. Buffy whimpered.
“Don't move,” he uttered sensuously but firmly. Only Spike could command and make it sound like a caress. She wanted to obey and closed her eyes to let the sensations wash over her.
Slowly Spike sped up his thrusts and she started to push back.
“Oh yes... just like that baby...” he told her and he said many other things she did not really pay attention to. His free hand moved from her outer tights to the inner, and then to her pussy. Buffy felt how the whole new sensation started filling her as his nimble fingers played with her sensitive nub. Then he picked up the speed even more and she ached to touch him like he was touching her.
“Spike...”
“Shh... later baby.” His voice was rough.
He turned her onto her stomach and rammed into her with all his might. Now he was beyond words and the only thing she heard was his heavy panting.
Buffy needed more. She wrenched her hands free and wrestled them into reverse positions. Spike gave a cry of protest, but the next moment he was under her, his hands on her breasts. She did not set the rhythm; it was already there and she just rode it out.
“Mine... mine, you're mine...”
She did not know who was saying the words, possibly they both were. She moved now, her hands on his shoulders, and his on her hips. When he touched her clit, she saw stars. His other hand shot behind her neck and brought her lips to his. They swallowed each others' shouts of release.
By the time Buffy woke he would be far away. Spike hated doing that, but sometimes he just felt that he was not courageous enough to watch her wake in his arms. At times it was okay, she would open her eyes, smile at him and engage him in the next round of shagging. Sometimes it would be slow and sensual, sometimes just a quick fuck. But then inevitably she would get up and return to her own life; her life in the daylight. He knew she had to do things like going to work and everything, but he hated seeing her leave just the same.
She often smiled and kissed him when she did, but occasionally she rushed to dress and wash up before running out when she was in a hurry, or sometimes she just snuck down to the kitchen or a bathroom, only to return the next moment to begin hasty dressing.
He knew that he was being irrational, but every time she got up from bed, he felt abandoned like a stray puppy. He knew that Buffy wouldn't cheat on him while they were together, but these fears were still the constants of his unlife. A day will come when she will fall in love again and one of these mornings would be the last for him.
This morning he again couldn't stand the thought of seeing her go, but for different reasons. The mysterious scent on the killed vamp had done a number on him. The memories of his first time ever had gripped his unbeating heart and had been squeezing it ever since.
Spike hoped Buffy didn't consider him too possessive. Even while making love to her, half the time he felt the need to hold back, or lest she thought him being too violent, too controlling. Having control was important to him, but he knew that it was important to her too.
He felt plagued as he fiddled with the heavy metal ring on his ring finger. Since that blasted scent had reached his nose, he couldn't stop comparing his every sexual encounter with his first ever. It had been that way for a very long time. Dru had told him, that it would always be like that for him but with Buffy it had always been different. Up until now.
Sometimes Spike had suspected that his Sire had cursed him with this affliction. Or maybe he himself had. Was it some residual guilt that vampires were not supposed to have? It was a long time due to letting go, and yet he couldn't. He was starting to fear that the first woman he had loved would be always there to haunt him.
He really needed a drink. Spike opened the bottle and took a gulp. A large one. The liquid warmed his dead body from the inside and he grinned. He had calculated correctly; just before the first real morning light hit, he had leaped into his crypt, hugging a bottle of JD to his chest. Thank god for 24/7 liquor stores. It had been hard for him not to indulge in a hunt, but he had left himself little time, so once more he had to choose – one happy meal or the bottle. He had thought of Buffy and taken the latter. Spike was grateful for it, but he was not sure how long it would take until he slipped. And how long it would take for her to find out.
He couldn’t lose her. Spike took another gulp, undressed and went downstairs to bed. Soon he had finished half the bottle and put it on the floor before he'd spill it. He already felt better.
Buffy would never find out.
Next time she woke, she was alone. Buffy shut her eyes tightly and sighed. She had no idea when the damn vampire would be there in the morning and when he wouldn't. The first moment when she woke alone was always painful. Her first morning after had left its mark.
Every time they had sex at her house, she tried extra hard to make it good for him, to wore him out, so he wouldn't want to, or wouldn't have the energy to leave in the morning. But every once in a while he still did. 'God damn that vampire!'
Rationally she understood that Spike had his own life and things to do... Getting stuck in her house for a day could be... Would it really be that bad?
Buffy got up and sauntered to the bathroom to conduct her morning hygiene rituals. A short while later she was already downstairs drinking her morning yoghurt.
She realised that there were no guarantees in relationships and she thought she knew what Spike wanted or didn't want from the one they had. He rarely spoke about what he really thought, but the seemingly careless image of a thoughtless and reckless vampire had started falling apart during the first few weeks of their relationship. She knew now, that there was more to him than what met the eye. That was why she had fallen for him.
Yes, he was not the one-track-minded simpleton they had all thought he was, but what exactly that 'more' was, she didn’t entirely grasp. Up until the other day Buffy hadn't had any idea that he played the piano; maybe there were more important things that she didn't know about him? There certainly was.
She knew that Spike was loyal to those he cared about, that he was brave and could act selfless when he felt strongly about something or someone. He cared about Dawn, had cared about Dru, and even seemed to care about her mom.
Once Spike had told her that he loved her. Back then she had still been with Riley, and the idea itself had seemed ridiculous. Especially in the light of the bot incident. The robot had disgusted her more than anything. She had laughed at his professed feelings, told him awful things; that he was a thing and therefore couldn't feel. That he was beneath her. He never spoke to her about it.
At first, when they had just hooked up, she’d contemplated apologising, but how could she, when she had meant every nasty word, and even now she was not entirely convinced that she had been completely wrong. Buffy wished she was wrong. She wished that Spike would be able to love her. To mean those three little words. But then... Wouldn't he have said them again if he at least believed them to be true?
Angel was capable of love because of his soul, but even if he hadn't left, Buffy wasn't so sure anymore that she would prefer what she had had with Angel over the relationship she and Spike shared now. Although she had been happy with Angel once, now she felt as if her love for him had been a girl's love, a deep infatuation that could have blossomed into something more, but had been cut at the roots when he had left her. Her feelings for Spike though...
She did not know if he was the one for her. She felt at least as strongly about him as she had about Angel, but that was the extent of what she was willing to admit. Would it feel like dying when Spike left? She hoped not.
On numerous occasions in the past, Spike had professed to love Dru and at the time she had believed him. They all had. The way the two were together screamed 'devotion', 'passion', and ‘love’, but they were in a Sire and Childe relationship. It was a deep bond. The question was; could a vampire love a human? Could a vampire really love without a soul? Angel had proved, that it was not possible. He wouldn't have left her it if that was possible.
Somehow Buffy made it through the day of labour at the Palace and by the closing time she felt tired, dirty and greasy. There were only two of her co-workers left; Jerry was finishing up by the stove and Mindy was sweeping the floors while chatting away at them both.
Ignoring the stupid girl, Buffy bent down and crawled into the low but deep cabinet to rearrange things Terry – another brainless co-worker - had made a mess of. It would be pointless to tell her; the blonde – Harmony variety blonde - didn't know a shelf from an oven.
Buffy still had no idea how come she had butchered up her studies like that. She would go back next semester, honestly she would. Even Spike thought...
She heard a knock against the window. Or door; everything was glass here. Half the time Buffy felt like a lizard living in a terrarium that was being gawked at by hundreds of people every day. Although yeah, lizards didn't have to work.
The rapid knock turned into an impatient one. Buffy grunted. Some people just didn't get that they weren't open round the clock. Buffy heard someone open the door and cursed. Mindy's flirtatious voice carried up to Buffy and she ground her teeth.
“Buffy!” Mindy bellowed then.
“I'm not closing up for you!” she yelled back from the closet.
Heavy footsteps came closer and Buffy cursed the stupid girl who was willing to let just anyone in that was even remotely male-looking. He could be a killer for all they knew. Or a vampire.
“We're closed,” she said resolutely to no one particular. To everybody. To Mindy.
“I'll just go away then, shall I?”
In her surprise, she jumped and knocked her head on the ceiling of the box she was working in. Then, grumbling, she crawled out.
“I was right!” She looked at him from under her brows. “Mindy,” she yelled, “you let a killer and a vampire into the store!”
Spike raised his eyebrow, amused.
“Had a good day, I see.”
Neither paid any mind to what Mindy had to say.
They finished up shortly and Buffy was free to leave. Spike did not try to kiss her and she didn't blame him; she smelled gross. And he did not. She shot him a look. 'Stupid vampire!'
“What?” he asked then.
“Nothing, ” she grumbled again. She was mastering the grumbling in rapid pace. Soon it would be her special Slayer-speak. Maybe then certain creatures would take a hint of leaving. Her. Alone. There was nothing she could do about her feet stomping.
Buffy almost sensed his eyebrow rising, but still he didn't say anything. 'Good!'
They had been walking only for a couple of minutes when they heard a scream.
“Mindy!” Buffy shouted and took off, confident that Spike would follow.
There was only one of them. A middle aged man of approximately the same height as Spike but much more bulky was holding Mindy by her upper arms and shaking her.
“Hey Mr Caveman, can I have the smidgeon of your already short-spanned attention?” Buffy yelled. “And let Mindy go while you're at it!” she added as the man addressed turned to her.
But the guy only growled. The sound allowed Buffy to relax; it was only a human and moderately drunk at that.
“Didn't you hear? Let her go, that's no way to treat a lady!” Spike's tone wasn't nearly as proper as the words. He sounded bored.
“You two, stay out of it,” the man said, but let the girl go. “It's none of your business!” he added as he stepped between Mindy and them.
“Oh yeah?” Spike challenged. “We're making it our business, you twat.”
The heavy brows of the older man rose mockingly.
“Ha! An English princess, is it?” he slurred.
At the same time Buffy asked Mindy if she was okay and the girl’s shaky nod showed that she was still a bit scared. Buffy saw from the corner of her eye Spike’s cold smile.
“This English’s gonna kick a certain Yank arse if he'll insist on hanging around,” he answered calmly.
That seemed to incense the man.
“Back off, you punk! It's not your fucking business how I speak to my daughter.”
The man had stepped closer to Spike and now they were sizing each other up and throwing insults. Buffy took the opportunity to walk up to Mindy, and after making sure she really wasn’t hurt, turned to the men.
She was actually surprised; Spike rarely took any insults to heart and usually brawled just for the fun of it. But this time the notable twinkle was missing from his eyes, and he seemed tense. Buffy took a couple of steps closer to them; Spike should be smarter than to piss off a human.
“Friggin' fairy!” Spike hissed.
“Enough!” Buffy shouted, but it was too late; the drunk made a move to hit Spike, and the vampire retaliated even before the meaty fist connected with his face. The man fell like a sack of potatoes and Spike's eyes narrowed in grim satisfaction. His chin rose, nostrils flared, and Buffy's eyes widened.
To Be Continued