Buffy just stared at Anya for several extremely long, excruciating moments, a blank look of utter disbelief on her face as her mind frantically tried to reject what she had just heard – followed by an expression of panic as, against her will, the words sank in anyway.
“*What*?” she demanded furiously, her voice hushed, although no one could possibly overhear them out here on the porch. Buffy suddenly felt very exposed and self-conscious.
Anya nodded with a little understanding grimace. “Sexual domination, Buffy. You have to have sex with Spike, and you have to…”
“*Stop*!” Buffy insisted, her hands rising to her temples and sliding back through her hair in a gesture of helpless anxiety and denial. “No, I do *not* want to hear this!” She stood there for a moment, before she suddenly looked at Anya again, curious in spite of her horror. “I have to *what*, exactly?”
Anya took a deep breath. “Okay – Giles didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. Here’s the way that the ritual *really* works. He challenges you – but since he’s not likely to do that in this case, you can challenge him. They way it works, as ‘pack leader’,” Anya put finger quotes around the words. “if you think he’s causing trouble for your pack, stepping on your turf, so to speak…”
“Which he *so* is,” Buffy muttered resentfully.
Anya nodded as she went on, “Then *you* can challenge *him*. Like basically saying, ‘I’m the boss of you, and I say you’re gonna behave yourself. What are you gonna do about it?’”
“Gee, *that* will go over well,” Buffy muttered.
“No, it won’t,” Anya argued, apparently oblivious to her sarcasm. “Which is completely the point. Once you’ve made the challenge, he has to fight you for control of – well – him. That’s the ‘battle of wills’. The fight. And once you overpower him, you – well – you initiate sexual intercourse.”
Buffy cringed at the blunt way Anya stated it, her sexually naïve mind balking at her matter-of-fact openness. Her body, however, was having a very different reaction to the mental images conjured up by Anya’s words.
“That’s the act of dominance,” Anya explained. “It’s like saying, ‘I won, so now you’re gonna do what I say whether you like it or not. I’m in charge, and you’re gonna fall in line and submit. And the first thing you’re gonna submit to is my screwing your brains out.’”
“Oh my God!” Buffy whimpered, putting her hand over her eyes. “I’m *so* not hearing this!” The hand over her eyes did nothing to block the mental pictures of Spike – and her – his submitting to her while she…
*No! Bad Buffy!* she sharply reprimanded herself. *Stop thinking nasty thoughts about the vampire sexual ritual that you are *so not* going to be doing!*
“You’ve beat him every other time you’ve fought, right? So this shouldn’t be too hard to win…”
“Whoa,” Buffy said with a nervous little laugh that sounded just a little panicked. “I am *not* going to do this, Anya!”
The ex-demon looked down for a moment before looking the Slayer in the eye and saying, “Then you’d better stake him, Buffy.”
Buffy opened her mouth to respond, to object – but all that came out was a weary sigh. “Anya…”
“Seriously, Buffy. He’s just going to keep trying to find a way around the chip to kill you, and a way to get the chip *out*, period, unless you do something to stop him,” Anya went on. She paused, then added emphatically, “And Giles is sick of him being here, and he will *not* rob Xander and I of our special orgasm time! You have to do *something*, Buffy!”
Buffy winced at more unwelcome mental images, but was quiet as she thought about what Anya had said. “There’s no guarantee that this will even work,” she argued, but her tone was not as certain as it had been before.
“Yes there is,” Anya told her in a knowing voice. “Another thing that Giles was just a little bit off on about the ritual. There’s an awful lot of power behind it, Buffy. Once you’ve made him accept your authority through the act of domination, resisting you wouldn’t be like Giles said, like his trying to feed.”
She paused, her tone one of quiet intensity as she looked Buffy in the eye and said, “It’d be more like you trying not to *breathe*. Buffy, he *could* do it – but not for long, and it would be almost impossible. Like trying to fight an instinct that you just can’t help. He might,” she paused, correcting herself, “no, he *will* still disagree with you on most things, and argue back and all – but if you give him a direct order – he’ll be pretty much bound to obey it, eventually – even if he fights it.”
Buffy’s eyes widened at the thought of what Anya was suggesting – absolute power. The thought was a very conflicting one to her, as she considered its staggering implications. There was a tiny part of her that thought the whole idea sounded just – wrong. And not just in the category of wrong that sex-with-Spike always fell into.
She did not think that she should, or even wanted to, wield that much power over anyone – least of all a master vampire who despised her – who took every opportunity to insult her at every turn – who would absolutely hate the idea of being forced to obey her…
As Buffy’s thoughts went around that particular bend, a slow smile spread across her face, as she thought of all the hateful, insulting comments that he was always so inclined to throw her way – the way they always managed to strike their target dead on, infuriating her, but leaving her no good response.
To have the power to say, “Shut up, Spike,” – and have him *actually*…*shut*…*up*!
Her smile became a calculating smirk as she thought of finally being able to make the annoying, infuriating, cocky vampire pay for all the trouble he had given her over the past few years. She could already think of a few rather humiliating commands that she would just *love* to give him.
Yes, she realized as she thought it over. The *results* of the ritual were definitely very desirable.
It was the ritual itself that was the problem.
She looked up at Anya, a frightened expression in her wide green eyes. “But – Anya – I don’t know that much about – well, I mean – I’m not that experienced – how in the world am I ever gonna….” Her voice trailed off as she shook her head, simply at a loss.
It was not the thought of the actual act of sex that bothered her so much. She had had sex before. But neither of her experiences had been exactly confidence-inspiring.
She had lost her virginity to Angel, and it had lasted all of ten minutes, during which she had not done much besides just lie there and let him take the lead. It seemed to be what he wanted, and while it had not been all that pleasurable for her, besides the feeling of just being close to him, at that time, she had wanted noting more than to make him happy, and had contented herself with the thought that she had done so.
“Making him happy” had turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life, when he had followed up what she thought was a beautiful, once in a lifetime experience with cruel words telling her how terrible she had been as a lover – not to mention the whole trying to kill her and all those dear to her thing.
Then there had been Parker. She could clearly see now that Parker had been able to easily take advantage of her on the rebound from Angel’s abandonment of her that summer. She had been lonely and hurting, and had wanted more than anything, just for someone to care.
Parker had not turned out to be that someone. He had used her and then ignored her – once again making her doubt her own worth, not to mention her abilities as a lover. No, neither of her first two experiences with sex had led her to believe that she was in any way capable of being “dominant”, sexually speaking.
And then – there was the vampire in question.
Spike had attacked her mere moments after Parker had smashed her self-esteem to bits, mocking her and taunting her, insinuating that she was a slut, reminding her of her failures with Angel, and how Angel had told him that she was “not worth a second go”.
Her eyes narrowed in hurt and anger at the memory. She did not know why his cruel words had surprised her. After all, he was her mortal enemy, and had been trying to kill her at the time. Of course, he would do anything in his power to throw her off her game. But somehow – after everything that had happened between them to that point – she had expected more of him than that.
She knew it was foolish – knew that she shouldn’t have – but she had.
“Buffy,” Anya said with a warm, sympathetic smile, her tone one of motherly patience – though if Buffy’s own mother could have heard the matter they were discussing, Buffy would have been utterly mortified – “it’s not that big a deal. Me and Xander play bondage games all the time. I could give you some pointers.”
When Buffy stared at her, aghast, she shrugged. “Well, if you have to perform an ancient vampire ritual including violence and sex with your mortal enemy – might as well have some fun doing it!”
Anya had such a startling way of putting things – but she *did* have a point.
The more Buffy thought about it, the more appealing the whole thing began to sound to her. It couldn’t be *that* difficult, especially if she had already beaten the crap out of him before they ever got that far – and she had no doubt that she could easily kick Spike’s scrawny white bum halfway to China.
As for the rest – the idea of his reaction alone, when he realized what was about to happen, made it almost seem worth the uncertainty and self-doubt she was going through now.
“I don’t know, Anya,” Buffy still hesitated. “Giles will freak out when he hears…”
“He doesn’t have to hear,” Anya interrupted. “Why do you think we’re out here?” She paused, giving Buffy a moment to take that in, before going on, “I really think this ritual is your best bet at keeping Spike from being a danger without having to stake him.
But there’s no way that Giles is gonna let you do it. Not to mention Xander for that matter.”
Her voice took on a note of hurt insecurity as she added, “I think he’d let *me* sleep with Spike before he’d let you.”
“Neither one of them is going to ‘let’ me do anything!” Buffy declared, too focused on her own dilemma to really notice what Anya had said or how she had said it. “It’s *my* decision to make, not theirs. We could just set it up so it’s completely private. Just me and Spike alone somewhere – and they’d never have to know what happened. I mean, if this works, me and you and Spike would be the only ones who’d know – and I could just make him keep his mouth shut.”
She paused, thoughtful for a moment. “That alone is incentive enough to do this thing.”
Anya nodded, refocusing on Buffy’s situation, “That’s what I was thinking,” she nodded. “The boys would never have to know at all. We’ll spare them the conniption fit.”
Buffy was quiet, thinking again. “It all *sounds* like it would work – but Anya…” Her eyes were more serious – troubled – as she looked anxiously at the girl. “To *sleep* with him – when I don’t love him – I don’t even *like* him – it just feels – wrong. Not to mention the very important factor that this is going to be *against his will*, Anya – which just adds a whole new level of ‘ick’ to the whole thing.”
“The thing you’ve gotta remember, Buffy,” Anya objected, “is that this is an ancient and revered ritual among vampires. It’s not even *about* the sex – it’s about power.”
“You know what else they say that about, Anya?” Buffy asked her darkly, this new line of thought bringing with it a whole new set of uncomfortable worries.
“It’s not like that. If he fights you in a challenge for mastery,” she paused, her voice quiet and loaded with meaning. “he knows what to expect if he loses. It’s just a part of the ritual, and he’ll submit to it – because that’s the way the ritual is done.” She paused, hesitating over her next words. “And Buffy,” she finally went on, cautiously, “If you fight him – and *you* lose – you should know what to expect, too.”
Buffy’s eyes widened as she realized exactly what Anya was saying. This was some serious business she was getting into, she realized. If she *did* lose to Spike – she would have to let him…
*I just won’t lose,* she told herself firmly. *No matter what, I can’t let him win this one. And if I don’t,* she added to herself with a smirk, *screw the time-honored, ancient vampire ritual – I’m not letting him *touch* me!*
If she was going to have sex with Spike – it was going to be on *her* terms.
“So you see,” Anya went on. “It’s not really forced – because you both know what you’re getting into from the start.”
Buffy nodded slowly, beginning to understand – and inching ever closer to the decision of actually going through with it.
“And besides,” Anya went on, her voice suddenly lighter, a conspiratorial and appreciative smile on her face, “Spike is *really* hot!”
“*Spike*? Ew!” Buffy answered almost automatically – and much too emphatically. Anyone with more experience than Anya in reading human behavior would have immediately known that she was over-covering for her true feelings about the blonde vampire.
The truth was – he *was* really hot.
She kept insisting that she hated Spike – that he disgusted her – but still, she could not stop thinking about those few and fleeting embraces, kisses they had shared while under the influence – but not the *complete* control – of Willow’s spell. She would not have admitted it to anyone, but she *did* find him attractive, and had for a long time – long before Willow’s spell, truth be told.
Maybe that was why his post-Parker taunting had hurt her as badly as it had.
She looked up at Anya suddenly, decisively. “Okay,” she agreed, surprising the ex-vengeance demon with her unexpected certainty. “I’ll do it.”
Her eyes narrowed and her mouth set in a grim resolve as they headed back into the house.
*Not worth a second go, huh?* she thought.
She would make his first “go” with her one to remember!
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