When the truck finally stopped moving, Buffy felt sick to her stomach. She’d heard the lewd remarks that the two men were making during the entire journey and it provoked a sense of nausea deep within her gut.
The door flew open and she was yanked out, her arms being pulled this way and that. She tried to resume her struggles, scratching and biting at them. But it only seemed to amuse them.
She wondered just how many times they’d made this exact same journey with different girls. She was pretty sure she wasn’t the first.
What had their fates ended up being?
Trying to put those thoughts out of her mind, she just managed to catch a glimpse of the large house before she was dragged inside. The sprawling white mansion reminded her of Ethan’s abode and that was enough to send a chill searing down her spine.
Inside, however, it was totally different to the Rayne Mansion. Where Ethan preferred traditional decorations, this house radiated an eastern vibe. There were deeply colored velvet drapes hanging from the walls, sensuous soft furnishings, and oriental rugs strewn around.
It was clearly kitted out to resemble some kind of Arabian harem house.
Buffy didn’t get any time to think about it because an older woman appeared from around the corner and marched over to Buffy, cold eyes making contact with Buffy’s apprehensive green orbs.
“I’m Gwendolyn Post,” the woman curly informed her. There was a supercilious air to the woman’s voice that immediately set Buffy’s teeth on edge.
Gwendolyn was a primly dressed middle aged woman with a clipped British accent. Her mousy brown hair was pulled tightly back and secured in a taut bun. She wore no makeup or jewelry except for a pair of black framed glasses which sat perched atop her dainty nose.
She looked about as far from a whore or a pimp as it was possible to find. However, Buffy had quickly been discovering that appearances could be deceiving.
Buffy briefly glanced down at her own worn attire. She was still dressed in her ripped shirt and filthy jeans. The blonde fidgeted uncomfortably as the clothes seem to scratch against her sensitive skin.
“You must be Buffy Summers,” Gwendolyn said, quickly skimming the note that one of Ethan’s men had handed her.
Gwendolyn felt a frisson of excitement at the thought of having this new girl in her stables. When she didn’t get a response from Buffy, she didn’t seem fazed at all and merely raked a pair of appraising eyes over the girl.
“You will of course be trained,” the mousy brunette told her without any further preamble. She lifted a hand and touched Buffy’s cheek gently. “Our clients expect the best and that is what we provide them with. You will no doubt adjust rather quickly to this lifestyle.”
“I’ll never adjust,” muttered Buffy, but her interjection went ignored by Gwendolyn.
“I’ll have Faith train you, I think,” she continued as if Buffy hadn’t even spoken. “She’s one of the best we have here and you could do worse than learning from her skills. I trained her personally so I know she won’t let me down in passing on the teaching.”
Gwendolyn clapped her hands almost excitedly and one of the older woman’s gorilla-like bodyguards came rushing over. “Please escort Miss Summers to her room,” she instructed him.
Buffy tried to avoid his touch, but the bald headed man grabbed her arms and dragged her through a maze of corridors. It seemed almost as huge and confusing as Rayne Mansion.
When they finally reached her room, he escorted her inside and pushed her down onto the shiny leather couch, before marching out, locking the door after he slammed it behind him.
After he left, Buffy rested her head in her hands for a moment, holding back the flood of impending tears, before finally raising it to take the opportunity to look around at her surroundings.
The room was actually pretty lavishly decorated with paintings on the walls, frilly fixings, and velour drapes hanging from the ceiling. It wasn’t as exotic as the hallways had seemed but it still seemed especially lavish, considering what it was going to be used for.
She really didn’t want to dwell on that little gem of knowledge.
Maybe the function of its use was why there was such a huge, king sized bed adorning the center of the bedroom.
A shudder coursed through her at that thought and she fixed her eyes on the wall to try and stem the tears that threatened to burst through.
Buffy wrapped her arms around her shins and curled her body into itself. She wished she could make herself so small that she would just disappear.
She didn’t know how she would get through this. It was hopeless.
God, it really was hopeless.
She dropped her head back into her trembling hands and let a few tears fall down her flushed cheeks.
Within a few minutes the door opened again and a voluptuous brunette came sauntering through. Buffy wiped at her eyes and lifted her head to appraise the girl in front of her with a critical gaze.
Although the brunette couldn’t have been much older than Buffy it was clear that she was one of the whores from her outfit.
The girl was wearing a short, shiny leather shirt peppered with diamantes around the hemline. She looked like she’d been aiming for a cross between Rhinestone Cowboy and Pretty Woman.
A small leather bra cupped her ample breasts but they still bounced as she walked and Buffy grimaced at the image. The outfit was completed with a pair of shiny, black thigh high boots sporting impossibly high heels.
Smoky chocolate eyes raked over Buffy with disdainful curiosity and the girl tossed her long dark curls over her shoulder as she approached. Her mouth, painted with blood red gloss, twisted into a smirk when she soaked in the radiant innocence of the trembling blonde on the couch.
“So you’re the fresh blood, huh? I’m Faith,” the buxom girl finally said, breaking the tense silence.
The blonde didn’t respond and turned her face away from her dark haired counterpart. However, Faith wasn’t taking no for an answer. This was her job and she was good at it so she was sure she could train this little slip of a girl to be just as good.
Okay, maybe not as good as she was, because there was no whore as good as Faith, but maybe someday this Buffy chick could definitely rank a close second.
It was a shame she seemed so resistant to being there. Maybe the slimly built girl just needed a different kind of persuasion.
Faith smirked and moved nearer to the other girl. She ran a painted nail down Buffy’s face but the blonde flinched away from her touch, brown eyes lingering on the planes of Buffy well sculpted features.
“Just leave me alone,” Buffy said. Her words weren’t pleading though. They were intoned as numbly as she felt inside.
“Can’t do that little B.” The other girl sighed, already getting bored with Buffy’s lack of responsiveness. “Look, I wanna help you, okay?”
“You can help by letting me out of here.”
“Not my place to do that. From what I hear, you belong to Ethan now and he’s pretty possessive about his girls.” A mocking grin split her face. “You’re one of us now, sweetie. So the sooner you get used to that, the better it’ll be for you.”
Buffy glared at her. “If you won’t help me get out of here then you can go to hell.”
“Oh come on, don’t be like that,” the brunette chuckled. “We’re supposed to be getting to know each other. I’m gonna be your Yoda or some such shit. Never mentored a girl into whoredom before but seems like it could be fun.”
Buffy crinkled her nose and turned away from Faith’s appraising stare. She wanted to be anywhere but here right now.
Even being stuck with Spike hadn’t been as bad as this. Well most of it hadn’t been as bad. While he might have been the spawn of Satan, once he sobered up a little he wasn’t as evil as he’d first seemed.
Whereas Faith just seemed like…well right now she seemed like a younger, female version of Ethan, with larger breasts of course.
“I just wanna go home,” sighed the blonde.
“Don’t you get it B?” Faith asked. “This is your home now.” The dark haired girl shrugged. “You know it’s not so bad. You get a warm place to crash, all your meals, enough blow to keep you going forever, and even friends if you can avoid being a bitch.”
“And the added bonus of STDs?” quipped Buffy, but her sarcasm fell flat.
“Ethan likes his girls protected, Blondie. We’re not street hookers. And Gwen looks after us. She might look like a teacher but she’s wicked cool, yo.” When Buffy didn’t even seem to hear her, Faith let out a little growl of frustration. “I get that this is rough on you but you really gotta build a bridge and get over it. You’re stuck here now. Don’t you get that?”
“I’m going to get out,” Buffy assured her.
Faith laughed at the nerve of the girl. “Yeah, good luck with that. This is real life, honey. There’s no way out of here. You’re not Rapunzel stuck up in a tower and there’s no Prince Charming coming to rescue you.”
“I don’t need rescuing. I can get out of here myself.”
“Sure you can.” Faith patted her shoulder patronizingly. “Let me know how that goes for you.” She slipped off the couch and kneeled in front of Buffy. “But now back to reality. You got some training to do, sweetie. Gwen wants you working by next week which means you need to know exactly how to handle the Johns.”
“Ugh,” Buffy sniffed. “Handle them?”
“Well handle their bits.”
“Can’t I just go with the tried and tested biting it off?”
Faith rolled her eyes. “Not unless you want them to find your body on the cold, dank floor of the LA River.” She paused and caught Buffy’s gaze with her own. “You really gotta start taking this serious. Listen, just do what I say and you’ll be five by five, babe.”
“And if I don’t do what you say?” inquired Buffy.
“Trust me, honey. You really don’t want to find out. Anyway,” said Faith, rising to her feet, “the first thing we need to do is get you showered and into clean clothes. No offense, B, but you’re smelling a little ripe.”
Faith didn’t give Buffy any time to refuse and dragged her toward the bathroom. In truth, Buffy wouldn’t have said no to Faith’s offer anyway. She felt uncomfortably dirty right now and relished the thought of clean water washing the dirt away from her body.
As they stood in the too-bright white room, Buffy suddenly started to get a strange feeling. Faith was still standing in front of her, instead of giving her privacy.
Her worst fears were confirmed when the brunette ordered her to strip down.
“You need to get those rags off, B,” Faith commanded her. “And I need to see what’s underneath them.”
Buffy felt incredibly uncomfortable stripping down in front of another person, even if that other person was female. She wanted to refuse but there was a hard glint in Faith’s eyes that stilled her tongue.
It didn’t help that Faith kept her eyes trained on the younger blonde, sassy brown eyes gliding over the gentle curves and valleys of the California girl’s tanned body.
“You’re pretty easy on the eye, you know, B,” Faith commented, smirking when Buffy’s skin flushed a deeper shade of pink.
Her blush spread from her cheeks to her chest and she turned away from Faith, forgetting that the round globes of her ass were subsequently exposed to the other woman.
Faith prowled forward, grasping hold of Buffy’s hips, chuckling when Buffy stiffened at her touch.
“You can’t tense up like that every time someone wants to cop a feel, honey,” Faith warned her, sliding a hand down Buffy’s silky thigh.
“Please, don’t,” begged Buffy, the tears starting to break free again.
“But I want to,” laughed Faith, her fingers growing ever closer to Buffy’s center.
The brunette let go of Buffy momentarily and ushered the other girl into the shower cubicle. She turned on the water, just enjoying the show for a moment, before stripping off her own figure hugging attire.
Seeing that Faith was naked in front of her, Buffy didn’t know where to look. She wanted to melt into a hole in the ground of spontaneously combust or something. Actually anything would be better than this.
Hell even naked Spike would be better than this.
And why the hell did that thought just pop into her addled little brain?
Buffy wanted to turn her head away from Faith’s exposed body but the brunette clasped her chin and pressed their lips together. She worked her tongue into the younger girl’s mouth even as Buffy vigorously resisted, trying desperately to keep her mouth clamped tightly shut.
It wasn’t long, however, before she had the shorter teen pressed up against the shower wall, and she finally found that Buffy’s resistance was weakening.
“Come on, B,” Faith murmured. “Just let it go. Give in and I’ll make you see how good it can be.”
“No,” Buffy hissed against Faith’s soft lips. “I don’t want…”
“Yeah, you say you don’t want it, but your body feels different. Let’s take that stick out of your ass, baby.” Faith giggled. “Maybe we can put something else inside instead.”
Faith’s hand shot down to the sandy thatch of curls at the apex of Buffy’s thighs and peeled her lips apart. The wetness that Faith found there was undeniable.
“I’m not into girls,” Buffy told her, trying to break free of her hold.
“You don’t have to be ‘into girls’ to appreciate a little girl on girl fun.”
“I don’t want ‘fun’,” she spat, failing to wriggle out of Faith’s steely grip.
“You can’t know you don’t like it until you try,” Faith said, tweaking Buffy nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.
“I…I don’t want to.”
“Listen, B. I’m really trying to do you a favor here.” Faith forced Buffy to meet her gaze, conveying the seriousness of her words through her eyes. “In less than one week there’s gonna be a bunch of guys that want to get inside you.”
“You’re gross.”
Faith continued as if Buffy hadn’t spoken. “You won’t have a choice with them. I’m trying to show you that it doesn’t have to be all bad. If you can find your own pleasure then it makes it fun.”
“I don’t want pleasure, Faith.”
“Sure you do.” Faith slipped a finger across Buffy’s most intimate place, eliciting a high pitched groan from the other girl. “Give in to it.”
Buffy unconsciously spread her legs a little wider, not even realizing that she was welcoming Faith’s fingers inside of her. The brunette’s slender digits made their way into Buffy’s slippery hole until Faith suddenly paused, a strange expression on her face.
“Whoa, you’re a virgin, B?” Faith asked with a smirk, withdrawing her hand from Buffy’s slick channel.
The blonde gave a sharp nod of admittance before averting her eyes from Faith’s piercing stare.
“Woo! Some guy is gonna wanna pay big for that shit, babe,” whooped Faith. “Gwen will be buzzin’ when she hears about it. You’re just the gift that keeps on giving, ain’t ya?”
When the teenager stiffened, she leaned down and licked Buffy’s ear. “Don’t worry though. I’m not gonna de-virginize you right now. I just want to make you understand that this life isn’t so bad.”
Her fingers slipped back onto Buffy’s slippery clit, worrying the little pearl roughly. Buffy gasped and bucked in Faith’s hold but she was no longer sure if she was still trying to get loose or if she actually wanted more. The sensations were dulling her pain and anguish and she didn’t want that to stop.
She didn’t want to feel anything but the pleasure.
Faith’s movements grew more vigorous and Buffy panted hard until she finally cried out in bliss as she trembled in Faith’s embrace, her legs almost giving out beneath her. It was only the brunette’s strong hold that kept her from falling.
As her breathing calmed down a little, Buffy fell limp in Faith’s arms. For a moment the blonde floated on the ecstasy of post-orgasmic bliss before reality came slamming back into her.
She’d just let Faith give her an orgasm. God, how could she have let that happen?
It wasn’t just that Buffy had always considered herself straight, but Faith was an evil bitch. She was a whore and possibly a sociopath too. And Buffy had actually enjoyed their contact. Now that it was over, however, and the harsh light of reality was shining through again, she hated herself for what she’d allowed to happen.
The brunette seemed infinitely amused with Buffy’s discomfort. She watched the display of emotions that played out over her new pet’s face. Hurt, disgust, anger and finally resignation all flitted over the blonde’s delicate features. Faith was sure it wouldn’t take long to break this prim little creature.
“We might make a whore of you yet.” Faith laughed and sauntered away, leaving Buffy still crying under the shower spray. The Bostonian’s voice came drifting back to her. “I’ll leave your clothes on the bed.”
Buffy barely heard her though. She sank to the cold tiled floor and buried her head in her knees. Moans and tears wracked her naked body. Sobs of grief, of humiliation, and of hopelessness tore through her, splitting her chest into two.
How could she ever accept that this was her life now?
How could she go on living if this was her fate?
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you to all the reviewers and to everyone else that's still reading this story.
Some warnings in this chapter for non-con Buffy/Other and F/F slash.
Some warnings in this chapter for non-con Buffy/Other and F/F slash.
Chapter End Notes:
Please review and let me know what you think. :)