“Come on, Buffy! It will be Soooo much fun!”

“No, Willow! I said no! I have to patrol, anyway...” *Of course I'd never tell her that I find this whole Wicca thing just a made-up excuse for these dateless and unfucked girls to get drunk and cry on one another's shoulders about how much they miss men. And of course, these two actually believe in magic, and are so naïve that they think the other girls actually care about magic at all.*

“But it will really be GOOD for you! None of these girls have a boyfriend, and they will totally understand you when we get a bit drunk and you know, get honest with ourselves and you might start crying about loosing Angel and then Parker and now Riley...” Willow finally gasped for a breath. “We'll have a big girls' night out! Pleeeeeeeease come with us?”

“Okay, okay...Just shut up about it already. I'll come with you and Tara.” So I went with Willow and Tara to their monthly “I have my Monthlies” Girls' Night Out Club, which, as I found out too late, was nothing more than all the girls sitting around together on the floor in somebody's living room smoking pot. Yeah, the whole “pot” thing. I'd never tried it before; Giles had strictly forbidden me to EVER try it. He said it totally kills the slayers' senses, making them unable to focus so that it is practically lethal to a slayer. So, when they lit the bong and started passing it around, I tried to say no. I was so afraid of it, knowing tat smoking it might get me killed but I couldn't tall all these girls that I am afraid. Me. Me, the Slayer; the girl Chosen and who is fighting evil every night, saving the world from time to time, the only one who came back from death, is afraid of a bong. Of course, Willow knew; she was there when Giles had laid down the law about it. But she wanted to be part of this group so much, that when she told me to smoke only a puff, I caved, saying yes.

I took it and the lighter, I lit it, and inhaled the smoke of my first hit. Then I passed it around just as the rest of the girls did, and then I started feeling it kicking in. The hotness in my chest, the tingling of my skin, the huge smile I couldn't wipe off of my stupid face. I guess I must have been sitting there looking like the Joker from Batman, my grin was so big. Then I looked around and started wondering '...are they feeling it as well? Or are they just watching me and wondering how stoned I am? God, they must be laughing at me on the inside, just to see what my reactions are!'. I looked around and noticed Willow. She was caressing Tara's left arm with her right hand, and she was practically chewing on Tara's left earlobe. It was obvious to me that Willow was trying to make out with her. I suddenly noticed that the thought of seeing these two making out in front of me turned me on. I felt wetness pouring between my legs at that thought. I noticed two other girls were kissing. Another two were just standing up, hand in hand and heading towards the stairs.

'What the heck is this? This is not a Wiccan Club! It should be called Lesbos 'R Us or something!' I thought indignantly, as more than a little paranoia crept in. Although I still felt a little bit of arousal, I was more pissed, the more I thought about it. 'What did Willow think? That after Riley leaving me she could transform me into a lesbian?' But to be honest, I have to admit that little Japanese girl in my jujitsu classes looks kinda hot...What's her name? Sottoo?...Tattoo?...Satsu, that's it! Wait, NO waaaay, I'm not gonna get laid by a girl, no how, no way. Especially not with a Japanese one! Man, I gotta leave, NOW!'

“Willow!” I was jabbing at her shoulder. “WILLOW! I am leaving. Now!” I told her adamantly.

“Okay, Buffy, 'bye...” Willow replied with a stupid, dreamy smile on her face. I stood up, and went out the entrance, shutting the door behind me with a loud bang.

I was so angry with Willow. I felt like I had to kill something. Or at least kick someone. I knew I had to stay away from the vamps and demons, as I was stoned. The only guy I could kick on tonight, was who else? Pale, annoying, bleached hair, chain-smoker, big mouth? That's right, Mr. William The Bloody...Spike. So I headed off to Restfield Cemetery. On the way my brain just couldn't shut down; all of my thoughts were swirling around and around. And then I smelled it. A faint scent of cigarettes, leather, musk, and blood. I was two streets away from the cemetery and I swear I smelled Spike. I stopped, looked around, and I was listening. I heard his T.V. That was insane! His crypt was still like a half-mile away. So I decided to go on, and went straight towards his crypt. I opened his door without the thought of knocking and I entered. He was sitting in front of his T.V. In his comfy chair, with one leg thrown over the arm of it. He was wearing black leather pants and a black button up shirt, unbuttoned. He was smoking, while he was holding a crystal chalice full of blood. He was incredibly sexy. I knew he only used the chalice on those rare occasions when he was able to steal blood from a hospital and the thought of him drinking stolen human blood was even sexier. He looked so dangerous and so sensual. Until he opened his mouth.

“Slayer” he said with a serious look on his face. He tried to look calm, but somehow I thought I knew what he was thinking. I was sure he was scared of me staking him without any reason. The thought of Spike, Slayer of Slayers being afraid of me was suddenly really funny.

“Spike” I said, and I giggled.

“Why did you come here, Slayer?”

“I'm bored, I want to kick somebody's ass, and I just happened to be in the neighborhood. Put down the chalice and come with me...I wanna spar!”

“You must be fucking kidding me, Slayer. Do you honestly think that I jump when you whistle and when you wanna play kick the Spike I'll come happily along and will be begging for you to break my nose again?”

“Yes!” Well, he wanted an answer, and I gave him one.

“You are mental. I'll show you, I'll...”

“You'll what? Curse me to death?” and I grabbed him by his right arm and shoved him against his sarcophagus. “I came here friendly, you idiot! I thought that you as a good and loyal side-kick could actually be so kind as to help me let off some steam a bit by sparring with me. Now I see I was wrong!”

“A good and loyal what? Am I a side-kick to you, Slayer? I'll show you a side-kick. I'm nobody's side-kick. I AM still The Big Bad!” Spike seemed to get angrier by the moment.

And then he hit me. Of course, his chip fired and he cried out in pain, but he seemed to be so angry right then he didn't notice. He kicked me with his left foot right out of the crypt. He came after me and grabbed my jacket's collar with both of his hands, and his face was practically only three inches away from my face. His angry gaze was enthralling. He was sensuality itself. Or at least that was what I thought in that very moment. I started feeling my juices between my legs again. I always felt aroused after a fight, but this time I was practically soaking my panties. God, I must be really desperate to get laid if I was getting off on Spike!

“I know what your problem is, Slayer. You haven't been shagged properly since Captain Cardboard left. I wonder if you EVER got shagged good 'n' proper by him? Well, thinking about it, I don't think you've ever been given it good by any of your loverboys, looking back on 'em. I could make you scream my name in ecstasy a zillion times in one night if you just let me take you to my crypt and get you undressed...”

And I was actually thinking about taking him up on his offer when I smelled blood again.
And I threw up. Right in his face. Like Stan Marsh does in South Park when he sees Wendy.

“...bloody buggerin' hell, Slayer!!! What was THAT for?” Spike sputtered, stepping back away from me, swiping at himself not quite effectively.

I felt so embarrassed, I couldn't say a word. I stood up and ran. I ran fast and hard until I reached my dorm and burst into my room.

I knew it was the pot. Giles had lied to me. The pot didn't dull the slayers' senses; it boosted them. Every sense. The smelling, the hearing, the eyesight; even the hunger and the horniness. Each one, only magnified like a hundred times more.

I knew I had to get stoned again the next day. I had to try to patrol like that.

The next day I was up early. I couldn't wait to get myself some of the “good stuff” and to try it out “in combat”. Of course I also knew I had to have somebody watching my back; so. who else could that be? Yes, again none other than Mr. William the Bloody, Spike. The vampire whose face I had just vomited on last night.

So, I had to pay him a visit in his crypt, and make a total ass of myself telling him that I was sorry. Me, apologizing to Spike. Please, kill me first. But I really had to do it. Besides, who else could get me anything illegal, or immoral except Spike? It was only 7:00 a.m., so I knew I had to wait at least until 2:00 pm if I wanted to catch him awake and at least semi-coherent. I needed something to pass the time with because I wasn't able to fall back asleep.

Willow wasn't back yet, so in my mind I started going through the events of the past night. The image of those girls making out ; Spike's unique and oh-so-sexy smell. The sight of Spike in his comfy-chair with the fancy chalice in his long-fingered, pale hand; Spike telling me that he wants to fuck me. Spike!

'Oh, dammit! I just got aroused by thinking of Spike! Oh-my-God, I have the HOTS for Spike! Spike, the evil, bloodsucking fiend!' I thought to myself, panic crowding in around the edges of my Spike-centered shock and anxiety, closely being elbowed by denial.

But I couldn't get the image of Spike out of my head, and I felt like I really, really needed to get myself off, hoping that sexual release would push anxiety and denial right out of the way. Well, anxiety, anyway. I took out my favorite “Lady's Little Helper” from the drawer in the night-stand beside my bed. It was a vibrator that had something on the top of it that looked like a little open mouth; it also had four soft little rubber spikes ('Note to self: how very appropriate!') peeking out from it's “lips”. And so, I realized my pleasure toy IS a Spike. So, I pushed the little lips towards my pussy and switched it on. The spikes were tingling my clit and the vacuum between my flesh and the rubber lips made me feel like someone was sucking on my clit while caressing it with a tongue as well. I imagined that Spike's lips were on my clit, and that Spike's tongue was flicking my nubbin. I turned the vibration higher, and I felt waves of pleasure spread out and roll over me. I reached up and pinched one of my already-hardened nipples with my free hand, and I felt the beginnings of my orgasm knotting and building up low in my belly. I pushed down on the toy, harder, more pressure right on my clit, and then I felt my body exploding. I came hard and fast with Spike's name on my mouth, and I blacked out, totally.

When I woke up next, I was lying buck-naked on top of my bed,-linens, with my Spikey helper still tightly gripped in my hand; then I saw Willow, standing in the doorway to our room, staring at me like a deer caught in the headlights of a car.

“Ermmm, ...ummmm...h-hi, Buffy. I didn't want to wake you up. It's just that we were supposed to have class together fifteen minutes ago, and you didn't show up, so I thought I should come by and check up on you. I didn't know you were THIS kind of busy!” The more flustered Willow gets, the more she tends to babble.

“Oh!” I snapped my fingers together with a click, and false cheerfulness. 'One embarrassment after another, all within one twenty-four hour period! What was going to snap was my nerves, because the day just kept getting better.'
“Sorry, Wil, I couldn't fall asleep until late I was so wired, and I slept-away the morning. But, thanks, for waking me up; I have to go talk to Spike about something.”

“To Spike? You have to? Is it a new big evil? Do you need me to do some major mojo? A locator-spell, maybe?” Willow was practically salivating at the thought of another magical opportunity.

“No, Willow, thanks anyway, though. No new evil, no need for spells, I just have to discuss some...some new slaying techniques with Spike. Yeah, that's it...techniques.” And I was quite proud of myself this small feat in stalling-off Willow, and making up that fib right on the spot.

“Riiiiigggghhhtttttt, Buffy. So, I guess I'll just go on back to our class then, and after that, I'll hang out for a bit with Tara. 'Bye!” And with that, Willow ran out of the room, carefully closing the door behind her.

I got out of bed, walking straight to my closet. I grabbed my bathrobe, along with my shower-caddy chock-full of my vanilla-and-honey-scented shower-gel, shampoo, conditioner, lotions and of course, big fluffy towel. I walked over to my chest of drawers and picked out a clean set of underwear; a new set of black lace hip-huggers and a matching push-up bra. With all my necessities, I headed for the showers.

The good thing about skipping your class is that the showers in the dorms are empty that time of day I put my underwear and my towel on a hook outside the shower stall, and turning the water on I stepped under the shower. I started washing myself, singing as I did so. I still don’t know why I started singing that particular song, and why it's refrain in particular.

“I wanna fuck you like an animal, I wanna feel you from the inside,
I wanna fuck you like an animal, my whole existence is flawed,
You get me closer to God.”

I remembered the video of the song, a blindfolded Trent Reznor with bared chest, wearing long black gloves, his hands tied above his head. I imagined having Spike tied like that. I also imagined my tongue licking his nipples, my fingers clawing his abdomen.

I couldn't believe myself getting off on images of Spike again, especially images like that. I reached between my legs and I started rubbing my clit. I felt my legs turning into jelly. I had to squat down from the effect it was having on me. When I was almost sitting on the floor of the shower stall, I inserted my middle finger into my hot and slippery channel. I started stroking it in and out, the other hand still rubbing my clit. I came fast and hard on my own hands, again shouting “Spike!”

'God... What is WRONG with me???'

I quickly dried myself off, putting on my underwear, and then my robe again. I went back to my dorm room to get dressed. I decided to put on a short black denim skirt and a white V-necked sleeveless organza top. I knew my black bra was showing through, but I liked it that way. I put on my black leather jacket to top it all off, and headed out to Restfield Cemetery to see Spike in his crypt.

The entire way there I was practicing exactly what I was going to say.

'Hey, Spike, sorry that I threw up on you like Stan on South Park. You know he doesn't vomit because he hates Wendy; he is in love with her.' OR “Hey, Spike, could you wash my puke out of your shirt? Do you need me to do it? No, you couldn't? Can I make it up to you by buying you a new one?'

'*Damn, stupid, Buffy!*'

I reached the cemetery and his crypt, and for the first time since I met him, I actually knocked on the door.

“Come on in, Slayer”

'*How did he know it was me?*'

I stepped in, and he was there, lying on a sarcophagus, probably naked underneath the covers over his hips. I moved closer to where he was resting and recognized the feeling of saliva pouring into my mouth.

'*yummy, salty Spike goodness!*' was the only semi-coherent thought running through my mind at that moment.

“What do you want, Slayer? Finished up breakfast, and want to throw it up on me, you bulimic spoiled brat?”

“Look, Spike, I came here to apologize to you, and to explain my behavior last night, but if you don’t wanna hear it, I’ll just go.” I turned my back, and started walking towards the door.

Suddenly, in a blink, I felt him grabbing my left arm. It must have been his vampiric speed. I turned to him and saw him there, naked. He was perfection itself. Pale, immaculate skin, well-toned muscles everywhere, short cut dark pubic hair.

'*Oh-my-God! He trims himself!*' I thought, '*...and his beautiful cock that was at least seven and a half inches long...If it is seven and a half inches now, just how big can he
be when he is getting it up?*'

I started immediately with my explanation while he was getting dressed.

“You see, Spike, yesterday Willow and Tara talked me into going with them to their monthly Wiccan girls' night out, which turned out to be a girls ONLY party. The Wiccans were smoking weed and they told me they wanted me to join in with them. Smoking. Weed. Smoking weed, that is...not the...joining...anyway, Giles always told me that Weed kills a Slayer's powers, and so it is lethal to a Slayer. So, I didn't want to smoke it. I'd never tried it, but Willow asked me to take 'just one puff;, so I did it. And then it kicked in. Not only for me, but it kicked in for all the other girls too, apparently. All of a sudden, it seemed, these girls started making out with each other; and I figured, maybe Willow brought me to that house because she hoped I would turn out to be gay as well.”

“And what does any of this have to do with me getting your puke on my face?” he asked with attitude, arching his eyebrow.

“If you'll just let me continue...So I got so angry, and I felt like I could use a little fight action, and you came up in my mind.” ‘*There; that was easy to say, wasn't it?*’

“You know, Slayer, that just gets nicer and nicer. Such that when you need a punching bag, you instantly think of me. How romantic.” Spike looked absolutely disinterested.

“No, it wasn’t like that at all! Oh, okay, maybe it was.” I pouted. “B-but, I chose to come to you because I knew I would be able to fight AND be safe.”

“Pardon me, Slayer, but d' you mean safe with me, as in I am unable to hit you because of that soddin` chip?”

“Ummmm...anyway, when I was getting closer to the cemetery, I felt like all of my senses had just been, you know, switched to turbo. I could smell you even when I wasn`t in the cemetery; I could hear your TV, see your lights filter through under the door of your crypt. And when we were fighting, I smelled the blood you were drinking, and that`s why I threw up.”

“Right.”

“You see? I am terribly sorry; it must have been very humiliating for you, and I apologize. How can I make it up to you?”

“Well, pet, as I remember well, it wasn't only your senses that got a boost. You seemed to be getting off on me pretty much. Now if you really want to make it up to me, you have to finish what we started last night, luv.”

“You mean, you have to have sex with me?”

“Buffy, I want to fuck you like an animal, I want to feel you from the inside.”

'*Oh my god, this can`t be happening! He's saying THE words*' I felt like my heart might stop.
Suddenly, my lips were dry, and I knew I had to be strong. I had to talk to him about my experiment, and not let him get me distracted with his sexy looks or his seductive voice; or by that big bulge in his jeans...

“Look, Spike, I...I also came here to ask you to help me with a little experiment. I want to smoke it again, and to try using these enhanced senses in a fight. And I need you to watch my back in case anything goes wrong. Can you do that for me? Please?”

“So let me get this straight, Slayer. You want me to watch you getting high, while I don't get any. Then to watch you fight against vampires and demons, and to help you when, not if, you get into some really big trouble? So, I should Slayer-sit?”

“Ummm, yeah, but I also don't know where to get any more pot from, or how to smoke it. One of the Wiccan girls had a thing called a bong?” I was unsure about that last word.

“Then this is your lucky day, Slayer. I just happen to have two grams of some of what passes for the finest today in my crypt, and I own my own bong.”

“You mean you smoke weed? Like regularly?” I don't know why the thought of Spike doing something illegal, or so...human hit me as so odd.

“Hell yeah! Otherwise, how d' ya think I could bear your annoying friends? Of course, excluding the Bit and Glinda. They are cool. But they are more fun when we smoke together, when they hang out in m'...Oh, BALLS...” I kicked his tibia. “Ouch! Slayer!”

“You are not telling me you smoke pot with my fifteen year old sister!”

“Realistically-speaking, she is NOT your fifteen year old sister, and she is neither fifteen years old, nor really your sister...”

“That’s not the point, Spike, and you know it! But I should have known! You are an evil bastard.” It was more of a statement than an accusation.

“That I am, luv.” He made no excuses.

“So, are you gonna help me, or not?”

“Are you kidding me? Watching you fight, having you getting off on it, and then having you in my bed? I am not an enemy of m`self, Slayer.”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything about me having sex with you!” Suddenly, I was indignant.

“Oh, believe me, Slayer, by the end of your patrol, you are going to crave me giving you a proper orgasm.”

“Okay, Spike, how are we going to do this?” It was the moment of truth; time to DO this.

“You take a few puffs, and we wait a few minutes `till it kicks in. Then we go out, and look for a few freshly-risen vamps. I don't want you to go against the strongest ones right away.” Spike looked me right in the eyes as he gave me instructions; I couldn't seem to break eye-contact at that moment. Nerves, I guess? My palms were sweating. Oh, yeah, it must be because I'm nervous about the experiment of smoking and fighting vamps.

“Well, thank you, Spike; so nice to have one more person to tell me how to fight vamps. But I think I can take care of myself. I've been slaying vamps and demons for more than 5 years now, and with enhanced senses, I'm sure I could do even better.” I was starting to feel just a little testy and defensive. I'm sure it's part of the nervous feeling I'm having, and all about the experiment, right?

“Yeah, but not when you get distracted easily, and not when you can't stop laughing.” Spike continued on, not realizing he'd started to drop into what I thought of as the voice of “Lecture-Spike”.

“Why would I start laughing?” I felt that line start to draw together in between my eyebrows, the one that began when I questioned something I thought improbable.

“Didn't you have the sudden, unexplainable urge to laugh last night?” He was serious!

“No, I actually was angry, and felt more pissed off than anything else. And you know, a pissed slayer is not a laughing slayer.” I felt a slight rumble of last night's feelings towards Willow come to the surface again.

“Well, pet, tell me: exactly how much did you smoke, then?” He was starting to get that smirk back on his face. Smug. That's it.

“Just a pull... a puff? ...a...toke?...Oh! I know! A 'hit'! That's what they called it!” God, I hated being an ingénue.

“Okay, pet, really any of that is right. But, that said, then there is no way I am letting you start fighting until you try the thing out proper first. You have to ride it out, get to know all the feelings it can give you. Y' need t' know what your reaction is to it, really, and hey
Want t' do this safe-like then. Come on, we smoke first, and then we go out for a little clubbing, Slayer.” Oops, Spike was slipping back into thug-speak.

“Wow! For the first time since I met you, what you said actually makes sense!” Well, it did!
“'Oi! There's no reason to insult a vamp that's tryin' to help you!” Mood-swings much?

“Okay, okay! I was just trying to be funny And you obviously lack of a good sense of humor. You and you perverted British humor, what with the Spanish Inquisition and all...“

I really didn't want to get into another verbal fight with him. I needed him. I needed what he could do for me. And of course, although I'd have never admitted it out loud, I needed what he could do to me.

“Okay, Spike, we smoke, we wait, we go out, but NOT to the Bronze! I don't want my friends to see me with you. And if we go out, I need to get changed. I dressed for patrol, not for partying or for going out.” A girl had standards, even a soon to be stoned girl. I couldn't go out clubbing in these boots!

“Oh, so the Slayer wants to put on something sexy for me! I never would've imagined that this day would come!” Now he was being both smug and smarmy.

“Don't be stupid, Spike! I'd dress for the men in the club, not for you, you idiot.”

“Alright, then, Slayer, let's do this.” Uh-oh. Zero-hour was here. I was still nervous.

He headed for the ladder, and he started descending it down to the basement-level of his crypt. I followed along after him, not knowing, really, where he wanted me to go; whether down to the lower-level, or to stay up topside and wait in what served as his living room. He was lighting candles, which seemed to be everywhere, and I looked around. He had really pimped the place; I would say it was “posh”. There was a huge bed in the middle of this level, with red satin sheets, and a rich coverlet. Nearby was an antique chest of drawers, several large book cases, full of books and odd things, small tables placed here and there, and even a comfy-looking sofa.

When he was done lighting all the candles, he went to his bedside table. He opened a drawer, and took out a little plastic baggie and something that looked like a ceramic vase; I figured that this must be his bong. Then, he went upstairs again, with the bong in his hand, but he came back with it shortly.

“You see, pet, the bong is a kind of water-pipe. Do you remember that creature in “Alice in Wonderland” that smoked a hookah, or water-pipe? Well, it's kind of like that. When you light it, and start to inhale, the smoke rises through the water, which cools it rightly down so it doesn't burn your lungs. Now be a good girl, and do it as I show you.” Lecture-Spike was back again.

He took his big silver Zippo lighter in his hand, and clicking it to life, lit it up. He showed me how to use it: wrapping his full lips around the pipe, he mimicked the actions of taking a hit while using the lighter, then he passed them both to me. We both took five or six long pulls each on the pipe, while passing it back and forth to each other. Then we put it down. Within moments I felt different. I suddenly started to feel both of my legs shaking, my palms were sweating even more I think, and my skin was almost itching; almost as if it was too tight. I felt almost floaty, yet like my body would soon be almost as heavy as a big rock, so I felt like I had the need to lay down on his bed. The sheets smelled like him. I closed my eyes, and started fantasizing about Spike naked on this exotic bed. His pale white skin, and the deep blood red satin were a lethally contrasting combination.

'*Oh. My. God... I am doing it again! I'm thinking about naked-Spike again! I've got to stop! Focus, Buffy! Yeah, right. Like that is going to happen right now!*' And what is up with these conversations with myself in my head?

“Okay, Spike, let's get going. I have the feeling, if I stay lying on you bed another minute, I will fall asleep.” Or something else...

“So, to the dorm first. I need to get changed. But you have to promise me you will stay quiet! I still don’t want anybody to see you sneaking back to my room with me. It would look like me smuggling you in for some hot monkey sex or something!” ‘*Damn, why did I just say that?*’

“You sure, Slayer, you don’t want my hot li’l body?” he said, winking at me with that
oh-so- sexy smirk on his face.

‘*Smug bastard!*’ I thought, but outwardly replied, “Yes, I’m sure. Now do as I said, and let’s get going!”

I was giggling on the whole way to my dorm, silly thoughts whirling in my mind: Spike wearing glasses and a suit, being a teacher; Spike and me sneaking into hidden places on campus for a few clandestine kisses; me smoking a joint with Spike, in the daylight, sitting on the grass next to my dorm. ‘*God, what is wrong with me; again? Thinking of Spike all the time. Stupid vampire, stupid Buffy. That was a baaaad idea. But there’s no way I am going to chicken out of it now.*’ And with that, I put my handily-learned-from-Willow-patented ‘Buffy Resolve Face’ mentally and firmly in place.

When we reached my dorm, I asked Spike to stay out of sight in the stairwell while I went up to get dressed.

I burst through the door, and into my room. Everything was dark. No Willow, thank God.

I opened my closet, and looked at my clothes. What should l I wear? Something seductive. I wanted to take his breath away by my looks alone. Okay, so he actually has no breath, but that would be still funny. I giggled again, uncontrollably.

I found my black leather skirt and a black see-through, long sleeved lacey top, the sleeves of which were cut into strips, so it showed a lot of skin. I quickly got out of my denim skirt --

‘*why did I choose to wear it anyway? I don’t patrol in skirts anymore!*’ -- and my white
organza top, leaving on the underwear, and got re-dressed. I let my hair fall down long onto my shoulders, put on some red lipstick and lot of lip gloss, and highlighted my eyes with a simple black eyeliner. Grabbing my favorite black leather jacket, I was out of my room, and
looking for Spike.

When I found him, he was standing just next to the “no smoking” sign in the stairwell,
smoking his “coffin nail” cigarettes.

“Damn it, Spike, don’t you see the no-smoking sign? Why do you smoke those things, anyway?” I asked, slapping his arm.

“The Big C. isn’t an issue for me. You’re ready, Buffy?” So much for taking his breath away by my looks alone.

“Yeah.” I said, and suddenly I heard my stomach grumbling.

“Well, then, Slayer, follow me. I guess you are a bit hungry, aren't you?”

“Hungry as a wolf. Or maybe not. Saying that makes me think of Oz.” And, suddenly, out of nowhere, and apparently for no reason, I burst into an idiotic laugh. I didn't know what got into me; I felt like I had just said the funniest thing in the whole world.

“And I see that MJ has started kicking in, right, pet? Fine then, so let's go.” He stood up, still as graceful as ever, and was ready to leave.

“MJ?” I asked. I had no clue what he was talking about.

“Mary Jane, weed, schmoke, buddha, dank, green bud, the chronic, kind weed, bud, skunk, red, green, wacky tobacky, Maui-Wowy, Acapulco Gold, reefer, grass, cheeba, pot. Means all the same, luv. But, we should really get going now.”

So we left my dorm quickly. Leaving there, we made our way towards the center of town, where we could stop to grab something to eat.

“What do you want to eat, luv?”

“I don't know; something salty but not spicy, and definitely no onions. Onions are not the food you eat before a date.” And that came out of my mouth without a thought.

“So, are we on a date now, pet?” His eyes were twinkling, but he was reserved.

“No, of course not! We are on a professional, scientific experience,” I said. But why did I feel like I was lying to him, and also to myself? Why couldn't I get the images of Spike and me naked under those red sheets out of my mind?

Anyway, I ended up just getting myself a sandwich, and then we headed out for this dance club, called “Studio”. It wasn't anything like The Bronze. The big dance floor was in the middle of the club. Radiating outwards away from the dance floor there were couches everywhere; These comfy-looking couches all had white covers on them, and were flanked by little white tables. Everything in the club was decorated in a white and black theme, or vice versa. Downstairs everything was white, trimmed or highlighted in shiny black, and was expensive looking, but dressy-casual. Up above it also had a balcony like The Bronze did, but it looked like up there everything was done in the opposite colors of black with a little white. Spike seemed to know all the staff; we didn't even have to wait in the line, and Spike headed us directly for the VIP area on the balcony. I didn't know how he managed to do it, but there was nobody else in the VIP area up there when we arrived. I looked at him, with an unvoiced question, and he explained:

“Once I helped the owner with some demon business; he owes me.”

“I think I'd rather not know, Spike.” Best for me not to get riled up right this minute about his involvement in what was undoubtedly shady demon business, knowing Spike.

The music was nothing like I was used to in the Bronze. Usually, young bands were playing there, but here, the DJ was playing music like I had never heard before. It was electronic and dynamic, with heavy drums, and weird synthesized tunes. It totally took me over; I was sitting there, in the near-dark upper VIP level, listening to it, and I felt like I was floating.

I quickly took off my leather jacket and closed my eyes, listening to the tunes, my head falling back to the sofa while Spike started rolling a joint. When I heard that familiar click of his Zippo, I opened my eyes, watching him taking long pulls off the joint before passing it to me. I took it, trying to appear casual, like I how knew to smoke a cigarette, and tried to inhale it’s smoke. Of course, I ended up coughing.

I felt Spike’s hand on my back, caressing it, whispering words in my ear to calm my nerves, and helping me to stop coughing.

“Shhh, easy pet, try to inhale and exhale slowly,” he said, gentling me with both word and deed.

I felt my need to cough fading away, and odd, tingling feeling on my back, just where he was touching me.

I looked into his beautiful blue eyes, and it took my breath away. I couldn’t get away from it anymore: I really lusted after him.

But I didn’t want to act on these desires; I knew I had to deny them, so I just simply took the joint in my mouth, ready to give it another try.

“Easy, pet, just pull the smoke into your mouth, and then open it a little, and inhale the smoke with some fresh air to your lungs.” How could teacher-Spike function after smoking pot?

With him calming me, I finally managed to smoke the joint, passing it back and forth a few times. I felt great, my senses coming alive.

When we finished smoking, Spike took me by the hand, saying I should come over to the banister, where I could look out over the dancing and milling crowd in order to try to focus on my senses. He said that this would be a good test to start off with. So I stood up, putting my jacket back on as I felt a bit cold, walked to the banister, and looked down at the crowd.. The club was non-smoking (and it must have been a torture to Spike, not being able to smoke on his cancer-sticks), so I was better-able to see and smell the people. And then, suddenly, I saw a guy dancing with a girl, start vamping out. I went over the banister, and jumped straight down from the balcony to the dance-floor, ran directly to the couple, and grabbed the vamp. He tried to shove my arm off of him, but I was quicker, and I kicked him in the stomach dropping him to the floor. I quickly whipped my stake out of the pocket of my jacket, and I slammed it through his chest, directly into his heart, dusting him.

The dancing audience didn't really notice the whole thing. They were just dancing as though nothing had happened. I guessed they all must have been high on something. Ya think?

So I was standing there after the fight, just panting and feeling exactly what Faith was always talking about: hungry and horny. I looked around for Spike, and he was approaching me across the dance-floor; stalking me, ever-so-smoothly, like a panther that is just about to hunt his prey down, And I could swear I saw lust in his eyes. When he finally reached me, he grabbed me by wrapping an arm around my waist, and he was looking right into my eyes. My brain shut down, right there. I suddenly felt his lips on my lips, his tongue searching for mine. And I was kissing him back, feeling as if I was drowning without his kiss. I grabbed him, wrapping one hand about his biceps, and then grabbed the back of his hair with the other hand. I felt his erection pressing through his jeans against my belly, and all I could think about was getting his cock into my throbbing, hot pussy as soon as possible. He must have known exactly what I was thinking of, because he grabbed my wrist and started pulling me back towards the VIP balcony. We practically ran up the rest of the stairs, and saw that it was still unoccupied. I pushed Spike down on the nearest black leather couch, and straddled his lap, with my legs to either side. I was kissing him everywhere; his lips, his face, his nose, all the while I was grinding myself on his lap. I was aching for his touch. He reached down between us, unbuckled his belt, and pulled down the zipper of his jeans. I made a quick mental note to myself for being so far-seeing to wear the leather skirt, and I pulled it up. His hands still between us, he started rubbing my pussy with his fingers, through the lace of my panties.

“Fuck, Slayer, so hot and wet for me.” His voice rumbled in my ear, his unnecessary puffs of breath a caress to my fevered skin; the barest brush of his bottom lip felt as smooth as cooled silk.

“Mmmmmmpf,” was all I could say.

He grabbed the crotch of my panties, I heard the sound of fabric tearing, and then I suddenly felt air, breezing on my outer lips. He suddenly slid two of his pale, slim fingers inside me, and started pumping in and out. I instinctively started riding his fingers.

“Tha`s my girl, ride my fingers with that hot little quim of yours.” And I did. But it wasn't enough. “Is that good, luv? Is that what you want?” Oh, God, he wanted me to speak coherently.

“Please Spike... I need…ummmmn…to…to…ahhhh--uhh… to feel…oh…to feel you... inside of me. Please! ... Fuck! …Fuck me... ummmng...with that…that big ... dick... of yours?” Coherent thought was packing up and moving away.

He removed his digits and I rose up a bit, to be able to lower myself onto his shaft. As I looked expectantly at him, he raised his left hand to his mouth and slowly licked his fingers clean. It was one of the sexiest things I have ever seen in my life. At first, I just barely let the tip of his cock slide against me, then with an experimental rocking, barely into me; then, I rocked him into my body, feeling it bit by bit as it stretched me. Suddenly, I couldn't wait anymore, and I pushed myself down so he was inside me all the way in. God, he was big. So big! I had to stop for a second to adjust to him, but as soon as I did, I started riding him at a pace that almost felt inhuman.

“Oh, God Slayer, I never imagined that being inside you would be so fucking perfect! God! What're you doin' t' me?” He stared at me, with the most adoring look of awe on his face.

I squeezed him with my inner muscles again and again. He was beginning to watch me through half-drooped lids.

“Fuck, Buffy you are so bloody tight! Oh, God, yes! squeeze me with those muscles, tha`s it, baby. Oh, my girl!” He was giving back as good as he was getting, too.

Suddenly, we heard someone clearing his, throat and saying “Errr, ahhh-Hrrrmprmmmph... ARE YOU GOING TO STOP IT, OR CAN I WATCH?”

We both looked up at the man that was talking to us, standing a few feet away and looking at us. I was just about to rise up from Spike’s lap, but he looked into my eyes.

“No,no, nonononono!” I said. Uh-uh!

“Fuck, yeah!” he said.

And in that very second, I made up my mind, and said, “To hell with it! Yeah, fine!” And I resumed riding Spike, knowing that our Peeping Tom was standing right there, intently watching us fucking each other’s brains out.

When I felt my whole body start shaking, and my inner muscles started clamping down tighter around Spike’s cock, he grabbed my hips with both hands, and he increased our speed; and he was fucking me like a machine. I felt like my whole body was exploding, my pussy was throbbing, and I saw stars. In the middle of the best orgasm I've ever had, I totally lost control, and I bit down hard on Spike’s neck with my full strength. I heard him growling, and felt him shooting his cum into me. As I came down from the height of my climax, I looked down at him saw his face just shifting back to his human visage.

We both looked in the direction of our voyeur; and as we looked at him, he turned around and ran away. We both burst out laughing.

“I guess he will never play Peeping Tom again, luv. Seeing me vamping out must have been quite a shock for the bloke.” Spike chuckled softly, touching his forehead to mine.

“I feel sorry for the poor guy. We ruined his sexual fantasy.” I giggled. “And wow, that had to be the best mind-blowing ride of my entire life.”

“Always glad to be at your service, my lady. Hey, pet, you wanna go back to my crypt?” And at that, he winked at me.

“You must be fucking kidding me, Spike! I could barely walk right now. And I am sure you won't be able to perform so well for a few hours yet.”

“Now, now, Slayer... you forget about vampire stamina, and slayer strength.”

“Aaaah, how could I say no to something like that? Get me the hell out of here, now!.” And he did.

As soon as I felt the trembling in my legs fading away, I stood up from Spike’s lap. I went straight to the stairs in order to get away, to get out of there, as soon as possible.

Spike tucked himself back into his jeans and zipped himself up. He quickly stood up as well, grabbing my left hand, and dragged me through a doorway out of the club.

As we spilled out a back door, Spike led me by the hand into a barely lit alley, telling me that this was the best shortcut towards the cemetery, since we agreed not to be seen together that night. He was dragging me like we were in some kind of chase; we were running so quickly that I had to make him stop for a second to get some air. As we stopped, I realized the alley we stopped at intersected near one the backdoors of Sunnydale’s only real adult rock n’ roll club. We heard the loud music rolling out of the club. Spike touched my right cheek with the back of his hand, worry on his face, and he asked:

“You okay, love?”

“Yeah, I just had to stop; I couldn’t breathe.” He looked at me so gently that I felt I needed to push my forehead against his chest. He started caressing my neck and my shoulders with his hands. It was such a peaceful moment; it felt almost…normal. Like things actual couples feel, things actual couples do. I closed my eyes, and I listened to the lyrics of the song that was playing.

Why don’t we do it in the road? Why don’t we do it in the road? No one will be watching us, why don’t we do it in the road…

I felt Spike smiling above my head.

“You know pet, I’m the reason Paul McCartney wrote this song.”

“Who is Paul McCartney?”

“Please tell me you’re kidding, love. You are, aren’t you? You’re NOT. He’s one of the Beatles.”

“You mean he was a member of the Beatles?”

“No, he is one of them. He was an original founder of the band. And I am the reason he wrote the song.”

I looked into his deep blue eyes and asked: “How come?”

“You know pet, this song was written in 1968. In that year, Dru and I had been traveling in India and the east, experimenting and experiencing a bit with you know, stuff, it was the “Age of Aquarius”, all about ’expanding your mind’ and ‘your consciousness’; and on one night, Dru and I were out reveling after a good hunt. We were feeding on some hippies, and we were so high that we just started shagging, you know, on the street.
I think McCartney was on holiday there, and he walked out onto that street, seeing us going at it. Of course later, when he told about his inspiration, he said he saw two monkeys fucking. Yeah, right, we were doing it like monkeys. I‘m sure the reason he said monkeys is because of that ridiculous Beatles-clone band, The Monkees. I’d bet he just wanted to get one over on them. Good ol` Paul always had that kind of wit and dry sense of humor. You know, there was this one time, when he even started rumors about his own death.”

I punched him in the arm. Not too hard.

“Ouch, what was that for, Slayer?” Spike whined, a little.

“Don’t you ever dare to mention that ho-bag crazy ex-girlfriend of yours again, you understand?”

“Easy Slayer, jealous much?” Spike tilted his head to the side and looked up at me his attention hinged on that last phrase and my answer to it.

“I am not jealous; I just hate Drusilla. She is a monster. She Killed Kendra. Did you know that she vamped Darla again?” Just talking about Dru, that bitch, made my blood pressure soar incredibly high.

“What? I thought that whore was dust. Good riddance to bad rubbish.” Spike said, regarding the old whore with absolute disdain even if she was his great-grand-sire and now apparently his sister among the Aurelians.

“Apparently, Wolfram and Hart somehow revived her as a human using some huge ritual and then got Dru to turn her for some reason.”

“And how do you know about it, Slayer?” Spike asked, a little nosily, knowing he wasn’t going to like the most likely answer.

“Angel told me on the phone the other day. He said I should be careful because they might have gone on a vendetta campaign against me, because of Angel; and now if they know, or find out about you and me…” That possible ending, I let dangle. “You know, he is still worried about me, which is kinda sweet.”

“One more word out o‘ her mouth,” mumbled Spike to himself, “and she’ll start with that dreamy-eyed- Slayer look she gets when thinking of the Great-Foreheaded One.”

Suddenly I felt him punching MY arm! And I was startled out of Angelville.

“Ouch! What was that for, Vampire?” I held my arm with my other hand, rubbing it, attempting to prevent the addition of yet another bruise to the Buffy’s Body Roadmap of Slaying and Pain.

“Don’t you ever dare to mention that sick, twisted bastard Angelus to me again, you understand?” The funny bantering tone had left him, and it was reflected in his eyes. He wasn’t kidding about this.

I looked into his eyes again. They were dark blue, filled with passion, and the clarity within them matched that currently on his face as well, and he said: “You are mine, Slayer, no one else’s.” He was nothing right now, if not consistent; he maintained an aura of seriousness, truthfulness and clarity.

“Just as you are mine, Vampire, and no one else’s.” Two could make this game fun. But was it a game? He had to be aware of what he was saying, right? He had lived more than a hundred years with one woman…he had to know. Did he know? Was I sure?

He crashed his lips violently against mine and I couldn’t do anything else but part my lips, moan against his mouth, and start battling my tongue against his.

He kissed me possessively, and I locked my arms around his neck, hanging onto him, and
wrapping my legs around his waist. I felt him freeing himself from his pants and pushing his swollen tool inside me all the way. I started lifting myself up and down on his shaft. He turned us so that my back was against the wall, and he started thrusting into me hard and fast. He grabbed my ass cheeks, digging his fingers in to them, moaning, panting, and banging me against the wall. I shouted his name as I came, squeezing my inner muscles, and milking his cock. He came in the same second as I did, and we locked eyes. What I found in them was indescribable; there was love, pain, desperation, devotion, and so much more. I didn’t know how a vampire could feel all that, but I knew his eyes were not lying; he really loved me, and he knew that I knew that too.

He put me down, and helped me clean myself up, pulling my skirt back down to cover my thighs. He took my hand, gently leading me out of that alley. Neither of us said a word, both of us shoving hands deep into our pockets. Walking along, side by side, we remained in uncomfortable silence until we reached Restfield Cemetery. He lit up a cigarette, trying to calm down his shaky hands. We went towards his crypt; I felt like we had to talk about what just happened, before I decided to spend the whole night, and probably the next day with him.

When I saw a big angel-shaped statue, I stopped, and rested my back against it. I tugged on Spike’s arm a little bit, just enough to make him stop and look at me.

“Spike, wait, I think we need to talk.” I called out to him as he tried to move away, sensing a serious conversation coming on to possibly kill the mood and ruin his buzz.

“And what is it that you want to talk about, Slayer?” He almost snarled with a long-suffering look.

“About what happened in the alley. Why we both acted like Cavemen Spike and Cave-Buffy. Why we both became so obsessively possessive. Okay, waaaay to much “-essives
here,” I giggled. I was neither trying to kill his mood or ruin his buzz. I just wanted to clear the air and clarify things. In fact, my mood was fairly lighthearted, finally.

“Why? Hello! Vampire here. We ARE possessive.”

*‘Again with the almost snarling; was that almost a growl under his breath, almost surrounding his voice?’* I thought curiously. *‘Sexy!’ *

“You know it’s not just like that. You know what I am talking about.”

*‘He is male, but can even male vampires be that dense too?’*

“I don’t know. Explain to me what you are on about, Slayer!” The rumble in his voice seemed to increase as he got agitated.

“Spike, when we came in the same moment, and I looked into your eyes, I saw something. You can’t tell me, that it’s not there, because I saw it. I know that you feel something for me!” There. As plainly and honestly as I knew how to put it.

“You are going to tell me that it’s sick; that I am a weak, neutered, impotent vampire, and that you are just using me. Aren’t you? I don’t think I can bear it.” Spike dropped his head, to avoid contact with my eyes now.

“No, I‘m not using you! And you’re definitely not impotent.” I winked, while I was trailing my right index finger down his chest. “I want you to know that I’ve never, ever had it as good as with you, and I don’t know what I feel exactly, but I feel something, too,” I said. “It’s okay if it’s just friendship and lust right now; and I just like it that way. I like spending time with you.” Amazing, I got that out, direct and to the point.

“So you are telling me. Slayer, that you want us to be fuck buddies?” Spike grinned widely but the smile didn’t reach as far his eyes.

“No, silly, I want us to be friends, and to be lovers.” What was so wrong or difficult about that concept? I couldn’t quite place the look on Spike’s face.

“WOW… You’ve got me gobsmacked now, luv. I don’t know what to say.” And so he said nothing else just then, sitting quietly and still for bit, with his mouth occasionally opening and closing like a fish out of water. Incredible… I’d finally been the one to figure out what it would take to shut Spike up.

“Just say you want it too, Spike.” He’d better, with me coming this far with him, and bending again against almost everything ingrained into me by Council and my watchers.

“But of course, pet. I want it too.” He looked at me, sincerely.

He looked up at the statue, then into my eyes and I saw a twinkle in his; then he kissed me softly. I grabbed the hair on the back of his nape and kissed him back. I felt his fingers trailing upwards on my thighs; then, on up to my sex. Then I felt his fingers gently parting my folds and pushing inside me. I felt like I was flying; which was really ironic, considering that I was standing between the wings of an angel-shaped statue

“Tell me kitten, tell me, what do you want?” His low voice rumbled near my ear, low pitched and soothing yet darkly exciting.

“I want… I want… want to feel you inside me…” the feelings and sensations were rushing across me so fast, so good, that it was almost impossible to think, much less talk.

“But I’m already inside you, love. Is it something else y’want? Hmmmmm…pet?” He continued to hum and purr…purr?,,, and say naughty things in my ear or by the side of my lips, calling me love, and pet, luv, goldilocks, and sweet, the entire time he continued thrusting inside me, with his fingers, building delicious feelings into a ball in my belly.
And more and more, “luv, pet, sweetheart”, he kept building the feelings, thrusting inside
me with his fingers.

“I want… I want to feel your huge cock inside me.” And I did, I wanted this so much in that instant, and wanted it to sound nice and hot to him too.

“And where do you want to feel it, pet?” Oh, my god, that silky voice! He pulled his fingers out, trailing them on the way from my slit to my little puckered hole, coating it with our mixed juices of the previous times. He gently pushed one finger inside me, and I let out a deep groan.

“Shhhhhh, pet, I’m not gonna hurt you. Tell me if you don’t like it.” He started pulling his finger out, and just before he pulled it out fully, he pushed it back in again. He pulled, and pushed it back and forth a few times, then he added another finger.

“Tell me, Buffy, what d’you want? Tell me, do you want to feel my cock inside you?” His lips were right behind my ear, his lips so soft, nipping, nibbling, kissing, licking, his voice so rich and dark.

“Oh, God, yes!” I couldn’t have formed more coherent thoughts had my life depended upon it.

“Tell me, Buffy, where do you want to feel it?” When he rumbled my name, I was lost.

“I want to feel it THERE!”

“Here?” He pushed his fingers all the way in.

“Yes, there!” He pulled out his fingers. I mewled already at the loss. He pushed himself inside my labia, but he quickly pulled out. He set the tip of his cock at my anus, and slowly he pushed it inside.

“Relax. kitten, we’re not in a hurry; we have time… all the time you need. Just relax your muscles, and breathe.”

I felt them relaxing around him, and I pushed backwards against him, taking his shaft all the way in. He pinched my clit, and started to thrust inside me. The sensation was totally new to me. New, but incredibly sensual, and hot, and I wanted more.

“Hhhh-aaaarder!” I demanded. I reached behind me, pulling him closer. Grabbing his right arm that was grasping my hips, I forced him to lean on me, and to push his fingers into my slit thrusting in the same rhythm that he was fucking my ass with. Feeling his unnecessary breath on my neck and in my ear, hearing him panting, and moaning and the feeling of both of my holes being filled at the same time, totally set me off.
I felt his prick pushing on a bunch of nerves when he was balls deep inside, and I knew my orgasm was building up hard and fast.

“OhgodSpike, I`mgonnacum, oh god, oh god. I’m gonna, I’m… Fuck me, Spike, oh god, fuck me harder. Yeah, I love your fingers, they feel so good inside me. Yeah, fuck my ass, oh please fuck my ass, ohgod, oh god, I’m cumiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!”

As soon as my orgasm hit me, I blacked out. I woke up in Spike’s bed, next to him. Every muscle in my body was still trembling, and all I could do was to look up into Spike’s blue eyes.

“How did I get in here?” I asked.

“You passed out when we … ,” he said with that familiar smirk on his face, leaving his answer to dangle unfinished. “So I had to carry you in, and to keep you warm. You’re okay? Need anything, love?” He was hovering like a mother hen.

“Just stay with me, and talk to me for a while. I don’t want to go back to my dorm.”

“What do you want to talk about, kitten?” His silky voice could read me a phone book, and it wouldn’t matter… just to hear his voice, soothing, next to me… and for him to be there. He was there when I woke up, came to.

“Explain to me exactly how you know about weed boosting a slayer’s senses?!” I exclaimed, and asked limply, for that was all I could muster at the moment.

New York, 1977

Okay, so I`m here. The minions say the current Slayer lives in the Big Apple now.
The city that never sleeps. Perfect for vampires. You can always find yourself a nice happy meal on legs.

And you know what the best thing in NY is? Everybody minds their own soddin` business. You can chew on a nice bird with perky tits right on the street and nobody`s gonna stop you. I just lurve the new world

Dru would love it here too. Too bad she is presently goin’ through her version of “Murder Rehab”, with some obscene idea of becoming cleansed an’ forgiven ‘er so-called sins of killin’, eatin’, an’ generally raisin’ hell for two centuries. She is definitely off her bird. You know what she’s doing now? She has this obsession with her precious “Daddy” once again; an’ now she thinks that in order to be ‘worthy’ of her Daddy’s love, she needs to get clean, shed, and shriven of her vampiric soulless sins and tendencies. She said going to live in a nunnery would be like rehab for her. Nobody t’ feed on, prayin’ every 2nd hour, livin’ in a building full of crucifixes, tetchy nuns, and lots of holy water. Fancy tryin’ t’ go totally aganst your nature! If I ever doubted that she is mental, her current project has totally convinced me that she is crazy, an absolute lunatic. But I love her. Always have been love`s bitch, and always will be. I hope she changes her mind soon, and joins me in my crusade against slayers.

I should get going, finding the Slayer. What I heard about her tells me the bird is a real party girl, hanging out with the club scene. And where are the biggest parties in NYC? Studio 54.

They say the owner lets in only the pretty ones. Handsome bloke that I am, I`m definitely in. And if not, I`ll just kill the guys at the entrance. We`ll see if they don`t let me in then. And by the way, that Billy boy, the one who stole my look, is starting to get famous.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is it, Saturday night at Studio 54. Lots of people standing here, waiting to be let in. And they all smell so good: drugs, lust, no fear. They would almost be too easy to eat. Damn, I need to find this Slayer and get myself a good dance tonight.

So I look up to this guy at the entrance. As big as a whole closet. He lets in all the birds who show `nuff skin. And then there's this other bloke. Small, dark hair, worn jeans and a jumper. Man, he's so wasted. He starts talking to me
“You, pretty boy! Come here!”

“You talkin` to me mate?” How dare he call me pretty? I`ll rip his throat out. “`M not pretty. Handsome, maybe, hot for sure, but if you call me pretty again, I`ll break your bleedin’ arm

“Oh come on, handsome…” Hehas a hold on my face, keeps tapping my cheeks with his hands and pushes them, so I pout my lips. “You are such a pretty boy…so yummy, I wanna eat you up!”
I sniff the guy. Body temperature, check. Heartbeat, check. Sweat, check. He's either a demon in human form, or simply just a gay guy being high, hitting on me.
“If there`s ever gonna be some eating up mate, you would be the meal, believe me.”

“Shyeah, whatever pretty, get your cute ass inside and dance the night away. See you later,” he said, pinching my arse. That tiny move makes me so angry that I growl, lifting him up by his throat.

“Keep your soddin` hands off my bum!”

“Okay, okay, pretty, just put me down, get inside, you are guest of the house for everything tonight. Hey, Greg! Tell Shane that every thing’s free for Mr. Idol tonight! He should only be taking care of Billy tonight!”

He takes down the velvet rope and I enter the club. Down in the hall, I already hear the loud disco music, which I really hate. I go further inside and notice that there`s a balcony. I climb the stairs and stand, looking down at the dancing people.

I spot her immediately. Tall, slim, skin the colour of dark chocolate, full lips. She's hot, moving like a black panther, she's the star of the night. She wears tight black leather pants and a backless top with thousands of silver sequins on it. She`s dancing with this guy. He is hugging her, caressing her cheek, they`re dry humping each other. I wonder if they are a couple or is it just some random guy dancing with Slayer? I suspect the former. I want to get closer to her, to smell her.

I look around, people are doing drugs up here, fucking, not caring if they're being watched. Just when I'm about to go down the stairs, I notice the Slayer and her man walking up They sit down at a couch and I quickly step back in the shadows so that she doesn`t see me; I watch the two light up a huge spliff. Taking long pulls of the joint, the Slayer suddenly stands up and looks around.

“Is there something wrong, baby” The Slayer`s guy asks her.

“I think I sense a very strong vampire somewhere around here. Probably male.”

“Are you sure? I don`t see anybody here. No biting or flashing fangs.”

“Yeah, of course I am sure! You know that when I do THIS my senses always get stronger. Believe me Li, there IS a vampire here.”

'Pot boosting Slayer senses? Hmmm. Now that`s interesting. Better get the hell away from her. I should be looking for this Shane chit anyway, the gay guy said she is going to take me to the VIP area. Maybe I`ll find somebody to feed on in there.'

So I go down the stairs, careful to avoid the Slayer`s attention. Don`t want to confront her the first night. I want to get to know how she fights, what she does for a living, see if she has a family.

Reaching the bar, I notice the gay guy from the entrance waving his hand at me, shouting loud enough for me to be able to hear what he’s saying, “Yo, pretty boy, come over here! I want you to meet my friends!”

I slowly walk his direction, looking around, measuring up the party crowd. Everybody just seems to be high on something, boys dancing with their shirts off, the girls dressed in tight leggings or mini skirts, see through tops, no bras, doing their dirty little things, debauchery everywhere I look, the whole place is a bloody church of sin. I love it.

Standing in front of the little guy from outside, he takes my hand, shaking it and saying, “Hey, Billy-boy, I haven`t introduced myself to you yet. I'm Steve Rubell, the club`s owner. And you are?”

“Spike,” I say.

He looks down on me, eyes on my crotch and says, “I can imagine why they call you that. So you`re not Billy Idol. A lookalike maybe? Are you new in the biz? Haven't seen your cute butt in any flicks yet.”

“What are you talking about you git?”

“Porn of course, so. You could be a huge star with that look.”

“I am no soddin` porn star you idiot. And so you know I used to torture people with railroad spikes, hence the name, Spike.” This guy really pisses me off, my eyes are flashing amber. How could he think I am a goddamn pornostar? Not that I wouldn`t be HUGE in it with the 9 inch monster in my pants.

“Whoa, easy brother. No need to rip my head off. Come, sit with us SPIKE, I`ll call for Shane to take care of you, bring you whatever you wish.”

“This Shane chit better be hot `n accommodating because I really want somebody to serve me tonight!” I got really pissed at this Steve guy, and I want to prove to him that I am an alpha male, that I rule the place.

Mysteriously, Steve just smiles like an idiot, shouting, “Rhett, we're going to the VIP room, tell Shane to bring us some…”

He turns to me saying “What do you want to drink, HONEY?”

“Your blood, you git.”

Turning his back in direction of the bar he says, “Two Bloody Marys, some coke, and bring us a bottle of bourbon, five ways.”

He stands up, taking me by the hand, and starts pulling me with him saying, “Come along my beauties. Are we having a party or having a party? Let`s go to the dark room and do it the proper way!”

I follow him and his friends to the basement. I notice an exit to the back alley, close enough to the sewers; good to know I can get in any time of the day. He goes forward, opening a big door made of iron. It's dark in there, lava lamps everywhere, men sniffing coke off a big mirror, other people just talking and drinking. I notice some of America`s big celebrities here.
Steve leads us to one of the couches and I sit down. Suddenly there`s a knock on the door and Steve runs to open it. A guy steps in, wearing only knee high white socks and silver-blue skin-tight satin shorts. He has blonde curly hair, blueish eyes, full pink lips, is lean but well toned; probably in his late teens or early twenties. I have to admit, the guy is eye candy; the birds probably love him and his boyish looks. He brings in a tray with our drinks on it, putting it down on the coffee table in front of us.

“Shane, this is my friend Spike, Spike this is Shane, your waiter tonight. Shane, I want you to get Spike EVERYTHING he wants tonight. If he wants more drinks, you bring them, if he wants you to give him a blowjob, you give him one, understand?”

“O-of course, boss” Shane says, cheeks blushing and looking down at me, his eyes begging for mercy as he shakes my hand.

“Relax mate, `m not gay, don`t want you to suck my cock. But could you get me a bottle of bourbon and some information on a chit called Nikki?” He looks down at me, handing me the bottle of booze.

He sits down saying, “So, Spike what do you want to know about the Slayer?”

Previously in Stoned:


He sits down saying, “So, Spike what do you want to know about the Slayer?”


And now the story continues....

Ch. 6


“Slayer? Why do you call her Slayer?” I`m feeling a little suspicious about this guy. Is it possible that he knows about her calling?



“I heard a few dudes calling her by that name an` I got no idea what that means. But according to her being a real party girl and having been in the scene for ages now, I guess she`s prolly messed up a few relationships. If that`s the case, I`d definitely call her a slayer.” He says, winking at me with a huge grin on his face. She must have fucked up at a point, `coz she has a 4 year old kid you know.”



“So the Slayer is a mom?”

"Yeah, a kid called Robin. She even showed me some photos of him, cute little one. She's with this guy called Li now, he's a cop, ironic that he's working on the narcotics department."


"And why should that be ironic, mate?"

“I`ll tell you why. Because it`s N.Y. and we`re right in the middle of the biggest party scene dude and Nikki is a real party girl you know. She is here almost every night, sometimes with Li, sometimes alone, but one thing is always constant: Big on the dope, but won't touch the hard stuff though."



“I heard her saying something about it givin' her a boost...”



“Yeah, she has her favorite place on the balcony. Smokes a joint, then looks out at the dance floor. Like she owns the place, it's her turf. It's like she can smell trouble after that, knows where it's gonna be before it happens. One time, this guy tried to bite this chick—not the most insane kink we get here, know what I mean? She fucked that guy up good. Steve lets her in for free 'cause of that. She's got a reputation, keeps people in line.”



“Idiot, biting somebody in the middle of the dance floor with the Slayer under the roof…” I muttered lifting the bottle of bourbon to my mouth.

"Got a glass, mate?"


"Here"



“Thanks” Taking it in my left hand and poured myself some booze.



“Tell me, what else do you know about this Nikki?"



“Says Robin usually stays at her uncle's. Like I buy that.” “Why not?” “If her Uncle's a pale, British guy, then Andy Warhol's the President of the United States. Hey, that's not such a bad idea...”



“You seem to know her pretty well”



“Yeah, we hang out. In here I mean. She`s great to party with. Man, that chick moves like a panther. A black, leather clad panther. There was this time, we were up at the balcony, totally fucked an` she just hears a song, jumps up and starts dancing, no words, dragging me up from the couch and grabbing me as she`d want to fuck me, grinding herself on me thighs. Dude, that girl is hot, just oozing sex.”


"Have you fucked her?"



“What? No! Although that fucking clown, Rhett did have her.”



“Who?”



“Mr. Rhett 54. He is one of the main bartenders. You know, the ones whose uniform are the tight jeans. Ours are the shorts. Man, those guys have the real deal. If you want anything settled in here, being hooked up with someone, you go to the bartenders. You want drugs, you buy it from them. I`m just a guy at the bottom of the food chain but this was the only job I could get here. And working at 54 is all that matters to me. I won`t say I wouldn`t dig it to be one of them, `coz they have everything, the best women, the drugs, the big money and all the attention. Everybody wants to be friends with the bartenders.”



“An` why aren`t you one then, mate? `S not like you don`t look hot in that shorts of yours with your dick almost showing. But you could do better, if you want the jeans, get the jeans." I say measuring him up from toe to head. His face blushes as he says:



“One of the bartenders would need to die first to have a place available, you know.”



“Okay mate, going out to get m`self a bird for the night. When I need something, I`ll find you.” Heading for the door, going back to the main floor, I want to find the Slayer.


I'm not sensing her in here which can only mean one thing, she and Li had already left the place. Damn, I hope they just went for some hot alley sex.

Going through the backdoor all I see is some pathetic git smoking a cigarette, wearing a poncy bow tie and a pair of tight blue jeans.



“Hey mate, you seen a girl called Nikki leavin`?”



“You mean that hot little black mama? Yeah, she left with her guy like 15 minutes ago. She's quite a hot little number. I did her you know,” he brags, blowing the smoke in my face. Man, this fella really starts pissing me off! Sine I'm hungry anyways, why don't I just sink my fangs in his exposed neck? I could drink the life out of him in a minute and quickly get back inside to chat some more with Shane. Wait, if I kill the guy, I could take his keys and crash in his place. Dead guys` houses don`t need an invite, do they?



“What`s your name, pet?”



"Haven't you recognized me? I'm guy you've gotta know if you want the hook ups here in the club. I'm the person everyone wants to know—I know everyone who means anything, PET”



He`s getting closer to me, and he starts whispering to me, looking at me suggestive



“Haven`t you seen the edition of that magazine? I was on the cover wearing only a sock. I`m sure that issue got Steve a few new quests! And if you want, I could do a replay of the photoshoot, just for you, PET” And he`s reaching for my crotch.



That`s it, I`m gonna kill him!



I vamp out and rip into his jugular with my fags, drinking his blood in big gulps. I feel him starting to shake and cry, his heartbeat slowing down, so I take a few more pulls and let him go. `Coz it`s no fun if they don`t cry and I don`t like drinking from a dead body. I`m not a baby to suck on the mother`s breast, I like when the blood is pumping itself into my mouth As I let him go, he collapses on the ground and I say:



“ Thanks for the drink mate, you really ARE the best bartender I`ve ever met, Rhett.” Reaching down for his jeans pockets, I'm looking for his keys and some ID to figure out his address. Turning my back, I quickly step inside the club and go back, straight to the vip room.


As I reach it, tearing up the door, feeling Rhett's coke boosted blood rushing in my veins, I find Shane still sitting on the couch, waiting for me.



“Congratulations mate, you just won yourself an upgrade from shorts to jeans.”



“What do you mean?”



“You`ll find out soon enough.”



“You know, Spike, the Doc Martens, leather jacket, and safety pin look doesn't exactly scream 'Studio 54 chic.' You wouldn't have to be a Slayer to pick you out...and you're pretty cool, for a vamp. You wouldn't be as fun as dust.”



I am sure I just heard my jaw making a sound as it drops and reaches the floor!



“How do you know I am a vampire?” I ask.



“Cold hands, no breath, no heartbeat, and that funny tingling feeling on my neck, everytime I talk to a demon or a vampire, kinda gave you out. But yeah, lack of reflection, and the blood on your lips,…May I?” he asks and quickly wipes away the blood from my mouth with his thumbs “…would have also done it. I`ve seen many things since I`ve started working here. It`s a strange place, you know. Celebrities mixing with your average Joe. Humans dancing with demons… It's no wonder the Slayer`s here every night. When the humans are in trouble, Nikki`s here to help with the demons. And when she's high, she can sense every individual being in here; smells them, hears them, feels them. I don`t want her to kill you. You're one of the coolest vamps I`ve ever met.”



“`M not cool. I'm as bad as they come. I killed a Slayer in China, during the Boxer Rebellion…”



“Yeah, I'm sure you did, whatever, Spike. Hope to see you around."

---

The next night



Okay, I'm going back to 54. I really liked the place, and I hope to see the Slayer there again. What did that Shane boy say? That I should wear something more disco-like? I`ll show him disco. I`m gonna wear some tight black leather pants and a dark red silk shirt I found in that Rhett git`s closet this morning. S`not like I ever wanted to fit in. But the kid is right, wouldn't do to be spotted by the Slayer on the second night.



- - - - - - -

Getting inside the club was easier than I thought, I guess I should look for Steve or Shane and ask if the Slayer is here. Where is Shane? I don`t see him anywhere.



The place is pretty packed tonight, I guess this is just one of those nights when Steve is in the mood to show New York how to party. Have I just heard somebody talking about two performance artists painted in gold fucking at the stage? If that`s true, I bet every bloke is having a hard on in here tonight…



Going inside, I try getting closer to the bar, I am sure I`d find Shane there. Wait, what`s that orgy at the bar? There's a guy lying on the counter…Holy fuck, no way, that`s Shane! But why are those guys pouring champagne on him? `s like they were celebrating something. I guess the kid just got the promotion. Maybe I should go and soak in, Enjoyin` the kid`s gratitude.



As I get closer to the counter he sits up and notices me. Why is he waving with his hand?



“Spike! My friend, my dark prince, come! Celebrate with me!”



Did he just say dark prince???



“Hey kid. You celebratin` huh?”



“I guess Rhett couldn`t take the pressure, he didn`t come to work tonight.” He winks at me while getting off the counter, slowly walking towards me with a bottle of champagne and a glass in his hand. He hands them over to me and says, “Drink! It`s Dom Perignon with some of the finest Colombian." He winks again.



To hell with it. I take the flute, he pours some champagne and I drink it. He takes the glass out of my hand, throws it behind his back and grabs my other hand, telling me he wants to go to dance and I should dance too. Hey, I know this one, the song's I Feel Loved by DonnaSummer.



I tear my hand away from his grip. “`m not dancing boy, `s not why I came here for.” But Shane is lightyears away in his head, I can feel it. He grabs my hand again and pulls me to the dancefloor to dance. He turns be so that he`s beind me, rubbing himself to my ass and whispers in my left ear.



“Then why are you here, Spike? Slayer` s not here. But I think you knew that. And by the way, I loooove the pants,” he says, playfully spanking my right ass cheek.



The boy is pretty daring tonight. Could be 'cause he's high. Another half hour and he'll be begging for someone to fuck with him. And I gotta admit, he is hot, we're the most handsome blokes in the whole club, all the chits are looking at us. We might give them a little show then.



“Hey boy, give me some more of that champagne!”



He is dancing to the music with his back to me, but he turns back, steps closer and lifts the bottle up to my lips. He grabs my waist with his other hand and says, “Here, sexy. Drink”



Damn, the boy really is daring tonight. And as I drink more from the special champagne, I feel more and more the mood to play his little game. I take the bottle out of his hand, saying, "My turn" and lift it up to his mouth.



“Open wide boy." I start pouring the golden drink into his mouth, watching as a few drops miss his mouth, wetting his chin, drops pouring down his face and neck . The next thing I know, I'm licking the champagne off his cheek.



“Mmmm, you taste good." I pour some more onto him. I watch it flow down his neck, to his chest, wetting his nipples.



I press my lips on his jugular, licking and sucking on the skin. I feel one of his hands grab the back of my head, fingers fisting in my hair; the other hand slides to my leather clad butt, grasping it tightly. I feel the urge to bite him but I stop myself. No, I need this kid to help me. He knows the Slayer, he can be useful later. But tonight…let`s just play a little more.

---

The song is over and Steve announces, “Tonight we're celebrating our new, handsome bartender, Shane 54! So if anyone wants to congratulate him, don`t be shy! Send him a drink. Or anything else. “



Everybody looks in our direction; I'm still sucking on his neck, he's grinding his erection into me. A girl comes closer; small, thin blonde with big green eyes and asks, “Can I join?”





I lift up my head and growl at her. I see her eyes opening wide as I hear her saying “Yo, cool, I get it!” and she get the hell out of dodge.



Shane opens his eyes and looks at me; his gaze is cloudy and he whispers, “Let`s go up to the balcony.”



Do I want to get up there? It`s not like Shane`s little show didn`t get me aroused. But what if the Slayer shows up and I`m busy having my wicked ways up there? Ah, to hell, let`s go!



As we go up there, I notice the envious looks of the people looking at us. Yeah, they should be and it makes me proud. We sit down on one of the couches and I notice a waiter coming up the stairs, walking to us with a silver tray his hand. There's a small vial is on it and a razor blade. The waiter guy says some rich chicks sent it to congratulate to Shane. He takes the vial, pours its content to the tray and forms 3 lines of the white powder. He takes a dollar bill out of his pocket, rolls it up, and snorts one of the lines. He hands the bill over but says “You know, I kinda heard drugs don`t work for vamps THAT way…”



I lean back on the couch, measuring Shane up from toe to the top of his head and give him my trademark smirk. I push his hand with the bill in it back and say



“do another line then”



Shane looks at me, eyes hazed and gives me the leer that says he understood exactly why I just told him to take more of the coke.



When Shane finishes it he lets the waiter guy finish the 3rd one.



As the drug kicks in, Shane is suddenly very talkative. He keeps telling about his dreams, of coming to NYC from Jersey and making it big time. The guy is naïve as hell but damn I wish he didn't smell so tasty.



As he speaks, my eyes fall to his soft pink lips and his neck He must notice it, because he keeps licking them. And then he says, “I`m not gay, you know. Never wanted to kiss a man either. But if I ever got kissed by a guy, he'd have to be as pretty as you are.” He stands up saying something about nature calling and pressing the heelof his palm to his own crotch, adjusting himself. He looks back at me as he walks down the stairs, winking at me and tilting his head a bit. I hear the song the DJ`s playing is 'Don`t leave me this way' by Thelma Houston



Aaah baby, my heart is full of love and desire for you
Now come on down and do what you gotta do…



I don`t know what comes over me, but I stand up and follow him. As I enter the bathroom, everybody leaves, and it`s only Shane inside. He is standing there, facing the wall in front of one of the toilets, his jeans around his ankles. I step behind him and put my hands on his shoulders. He takes a deep breath and moans. I feel his hand on mine, guiding to his hard shaft, locking my fingers around it. I give it a few hard strokes, and he pleads, “Bite me, Spike. I wanna feel it, wanna know what your bite feels like.”



Now that, him begging me to taste him, makes my rod steel hard. I free myself from my pants, still stroking him as he is thrusting into my palm and I start jacking myself off, hard and quick. During my time giving myself pleasure, from time to time I rub my cock along the crack of his ass.



“Aaah, fuck Spike, yeah, like that…oh God, so close, I`m gonna…please bite me now!”



Speeding my hand on him up, I bite down on his neck with blunt teeth. I keep soothing the spot with slow licks by the flat of my tongue As I feel his body start to tremble, I vamp out and sink my fangs into him, pulling his blood into my mouth. I've never done this before. Having sex with a human, especially not while I take it's blood. But Shane feels so good, and warm and it just feels right.

I feel my own spunk shooting onto my palm and his ass cheeks.



As we both come down from the height of orgasm, I lick the small wounds closed. And suddenly I feel tears rolling down my cheek. Okay, I'm officially having a freak-out! I have to get out of here, before he even turns back. I cannot be emotionally attached to anyone but Dru!

I step out of the bathroom and I feel that the only thing that could calm me is killing someone. Damn, I have to find and kill the Slayer!