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Authors Chapter Notes:
This was written about a year ago, inspired by the 001 Mini Challenge at taboo_spuffy. The italicized part is the challenge prompt. I am forever grateful to my beta Mezzibelle, who endures my first rough drafts and then points out stuff to tweak that makes my work sooo much better.


Buffy Summers hated staying after work. Lately, it had become a really bad habit of hers and if something didn't give soon, she’d likely burst from the pure frustration of not getting everything done on time.

So far, her boss had yet to catch on to the late hours she’d been keeping, and for that, Buffy was extremely grateful. She really didn’t want to have to explain why she couldn’t get everything done during her regular office hours, especially considering there wasn’t a reasonable explanation for it.

Actually, that wasn’t quite true. There was an explanation, a reasonable one too, she just wasn’t sure her boss would buy it if she told it to him.

What would he say if he knew her every thought was filled with a sinful fantasy of sky blue eyes, sharp, angular cheekbones and soft, pouty lips that left a trail of warm moisture from one end of her body to the other? That the thought of hot, skilled hands travelling over her bare skin left her panting with the need for release and unable to focus on anything but the dream of total, sexual fulfilment?

Would he want details? Would he ask for a demonstration? Or would he fire her on the spot and accuse her of being some sick, twisted pervert that shouldn’t be allowed to work in a high-rise office building like his ever again?



She had no idea. The man was a mystery. Medium height, slim but well-built, handsome with blue eyes, killer cheekbones, bleached hair and moving with a smooth sensuality, William Pratt wasn’t just easy on the eyes. He also had a sharp mind and an excellent business-sense. He’d started from nowhere and now had a small but solid company that was well renowned. He was charming and charismatic but always kept a polite distance from his employees. Originally from Britain, his speech-pattern only held a hint of an accent.


There were rumours about him, hints of a dark past. “Head of a gang”, some said, “Having been in jail”, others claimed. No one knew for sure, but anything was possible, the man oozed confidence and power that promised his capability in any situation imaginable, but in his severe suits and with his professional bearing, the only outward hint of a possible rough past was a scar bisecting his left eyebrow.


And his mien when angered.


She'd only seen him angry once but the image had stayed with her. At a business party last month, one of the receptionists had been groped by a drunken customer who held on to her even though she'd tried to twist out of his grasp as his hand was shoved down her cleavage.


Neither had noticed William Pratt approaching.


Buffy hadn’t seen exactly what had happened, but suddenly the guy was sitting on the floor blinking stupidly and holding his bleeding nose. William stood over him with ice in his gaze and menace radiating from his very frame. His normally smooth voice had been a rough growl when he'd ordered the jerk to stand up. As the man obeyed, William, with apparent ease, grabbed him and wrenched his arm brutally behind his back so far the guy cried out. William then marched him towards the doors to the stairway.


Buffy had been standing by the glass doors and had had the presence of mind to open them as the men approached. William had pushed the bleeding man hard through the doorway, making him fall down the first flight of steps. Then he’d snarled that the man would be wise to seek his business in another town, as he would find that this town didn’t take kindly to men who forced women against their will. As Buffy let the door fall closed, William had glanced at her, hesitating for a second as if seeing her for the first time. After giving her a small nod he had turned around and gone to check on the receptionist.


The darkness that had seemed to surround him was palpable and everyone in the area was frozen like rabbits during the incident. But what had unnerved Buffy the most was the electrical thrill that had raced down her spine and the moisture that had seeped between her legs. She had never thought that a show of violence would turn her on, having only had fairly straightforward relationships in the past, but after this incident her imagination was not going in its usual direction of soft music and candlelight when envisioning her boss and the things he might be capable of doing.


Yes, on consideration, maybe he would ask her for a demonstration…


When she was hired, she’d been amazed, since in her mind, she'd been a stuttering fool during the interview, blushing but unable to look away from his blue eyes whenever he asked her a question. But apparently he hadn't thought anything of it since she'd gotten the job, probably because she did have excellent credentials.


Now she worked in the man's office, close enough that she saw him several times each day. And each of those times set her back at least half an hour of work as her mind refused to stay on the things she should be doing but insisted on flooding her with mouth-watering images. She really needed to focus, because the salary was good, she enjoyed the work with compiling news-letters to their customers and managing the website, and she couldn't really afford to lose it due to some stupid sexual tension. But tonight, every time she started on the report in front of her, a pair of blue eyes seemed to float in front of the screen.


She had been staring at him today at lunch. Finding herself doing so more frequently since the incident at the party, she felt rather ashamed at her impudence, but it was difficult to stop. The two times he’d caught her gawking at him before today, she’d immediately looked away but had still felt his eyes on her for a while afterwards. Today her eyes had been drawn to him as he was standing across the room looking at some papers in his hand and she couldn’t help herself. She’d perused every line of him, first downwards, and then up, up – straight into his eyes as he looked at her with a small crease in his brow. He didn’t seem displeased, more as if he were trying to solve a math problem. She froze, like a trapped mouse, even forgetting to breathe for a few seconds. Then he’d lifted an eyebrow and it was as if a spell had been lifted. She’d blushed and turned away, feeling extremely awkward. Now all she could think about was the thoughtful expression in those blue pools and if she was going to be fired tomorrow or if he – indeed – would—


She interrupted her thoughts that were beginning to be repetitive in absurdum. She’d never get any work done this way.


With a deep sigh she closed her eyes and leaned back, murmuring, "I'm sooo screwed".


"Really? Why is that, Miss Summers?" The unexpected voice made her jump in her chair and she turned around in surprise. Her wide eyes found the source and she felt her throat dry up. He was standing in the doorway, a dark shadow within a shadow, but there was no question as to who it was.


William Pratt usually dressed in stylish suits and today was no exception. He was wearing a dark-blue shirt that brought out the startling colour of his eyes, black trousers and a grey-and-blue striped tie.


She just stared at him, tongue-tied.


"Well, Miss Summers?" He asked again, never moving, just standing there, waiting like a coiled snake about to strike.


She'd forgotten what he'd said and couldn't come up with anything more brilliant than, "I’m sorry?" She winced at her high-pitched voice and tried to clear her throat.


Slowly, with careful enunciation, he said, "Why do you think you are, as you just said, sooo screwed?"


She could swear she saw a hint of teeth between the full lips. Was he laughing at her? Oh, God, she felt mortified. "Eh, I'm just... Well, I'm having a lot of... work... things... to... do..." Her voice trailed away as she realized he really was laughing at her.


Then he moved and her breath hitched. He always moved smoothly but now, it seemed, he flowed like smoke across the room. She felt her face flush and her heart rate increase.


He walked towards her, stopping only when he was so close she could feel the soft fabric of his trousers touching her arm. He stood looking at her computer screen thoughtfully, when she suddenly realized that her eyes were about two inches away from his belt buckle.


Buffy turned her head so quickly she felt lightheaded. The silence was unbearable so she finally glanced up.


William looked down on her with a small smile. He seemed to be considering something. Seemingly coming to a decision, he bent down close to her face. His voice was a sultry whisper in her ear.


"I don't think you have too much to do or that your work is too difficult for you. I've noticed you're very efficient when you set your mind to it. Therefore, I wonder if what we have here is a... discipline problem? And if it might be that I need to... teach you a lesson?" His tongue flicked out, licking his lips, and then he winked at her.


Discipline? Her mind awhirl, Buffy wondered if he meant the very sexual implication she flashed to. She could hardly believe it, but he was clearly flirting and she'd never seen him act anything other than professional in the office before. After the last weeks of frustration she was ready to break and decided to throw caution to the wind and to follow his lead wherever it would take her. She swallowed and said, unsure of his exact intentions "I do believe... I sometimes... lack in discipline."


William's eyes flared and he drew in a hard breath. He slowly stretched out a hand and, after saving the work on her screen, turned off the computer. He took her hand and gently pulled her up from the chair, leading her to his office where she followed on suddenly weak legs.


Shutting the door, he let go of her hand and she stood timidly looking on as he turned on two small lamps which bathed the room in a soft, yellow sheen. Next he closed the blinds to the window and then slowly circled her where she stood, feeling naked in his scrutiny.


"I want you to be very clear about something. I would very much like to... give you a lesson in discipline." His pronunciation and caressing tone of voice made it perfectly clear that he was not talking about the job now. Stopping in front of her, head cocked to one side he looked at her intently. "But only if you want me to. Do not feel as if you need to go through with anything because I'm your boss, only because you want to. If you really want me to stop, I will stop. I will stop and you will walk out of here and we will never mention this evening ever again. There will be no repercussions either way. Do you understand?"


She licked her dry lips nervously and nodded, heart beating fast in excitement. She’d dreamt of him so many times and for a second wondered if she’d fallen asleep at her desk. But no, the sensual timbre of his voice was like nothing she could have imagined.


He smiled then, just the tiniest quirk of his lips. "If you let me, I'll make you feel like you've never felt before. Then, if after tonight you don't want to mention it again, just say 'goodbye' when we're done and we’ll never speak of it." He leaned slightly towards her and added, "But if you would like to repeat it sometime, just say 'until next time' when we part."


She nodded again, mesmerized. His eyes held a promise she wanted to explore.


Straightening up, he put a little distance between them again. "A final warning. You’ll need a safety-word. When we've started, I will not stop for anything other than that word. Choose something you won't be likely to say tonight."


Buffy frowned in confusion as she though about it for a moment. "Won't 'no' do?"


He smiled wider and then pursed his lips. She felt a thrill go up her spine as his cheekbones became even more pronounced and his eyes glittered in subdued anticipation. "Oh, I won't stop for a 'no'. That's too easy to gasp in the heat of passion."


She wasn’t sure she understood the necessity, but she’d go along with anything he said right now, especially when he looked at her as if she were a juicy steak that he wanted to sink his teeth into. Baffled at the heat that went through her at the thought of his teeth she looked around, grasping for something totally unrelated to the thickening atmosphere. There was a picture of a white lily on the wall beside her. A big beautiful close-up of a flower that somehow managed to look vaguely sexual and she was fleetingly amazed about the striking difference to a pretty little painting of yellow flowers that hung in her own kitchen. "Ok, what about... daffodils?"


"Very well, from now on, only the word daffodils will give you any say in what happens here tonight." He smiled, this time showing his teeth in an expression that could only be described as hungry. Buffy’s knees almost buckled as a wave of lust slammed through her at his first unbridled sign of excitement.


Looking serious once more, he took a sudden step forward and was in her face. Startled, she gasped and took a step back.


"Stand still!" he ordered sharply and she froze. He smirked, narrowing his eyes, and then continued in a low voice, holding her gaze with his own. "I have seen quite a bit of slacking off from you, young lady. It seems you must be taught that sloppy work and tardiness are things I do not tolerate. I think we’ll start with a bit of punishment." He moved behind her. She felt goose bumps along her arms as his breath stirred the hair at her nape. "Are you ready for your lesson, Miss Summers?"


"Yes!" she gasped, excited and a little bit scared. There was a short silence and then his voice very quietly and almost perfunctory remarked. “Since I don’t think you have had many lessons before, I will be lenient this one time only. You will call me sir.”


Wondering how such a small word could elicit the heat that she felt as she heard his soft rebuke, she swallowed the lump in her throat and tried again “Yes, sir!”


"Walk up to my desk." She complied and felt him follow, Buffy stopped when her thighs touched the shiny mahogany table. She was shaking slightly as she took in the lack of things on it. No stacks of papers, no calendar, no penholder, the only thing on the glossy surface was a computer screen pushed to one side. While normally neat and ordered, she had never seen his desk this empty before.


"Bend over." William's voice was a soft growl, it felt like a promise and a warning all at the same time.


She slowly folded her upper body across his desk, placing her hands beside her head, panting helplessly as she realized that maybe his coming back after hours had been planned.


She waited, breathlessly. Just as she thought nothing would happen, she felt her knee-length black skirt slowly being lifted, exposing her white silk panties to his eyes. Then nothing.


The anticipation was killing her, surely he would touch her in some way soon, what was he going to—


Suddenly she got a swift, hard slap on her ass. She yelped and flinched, more in surprise than in pain, almost standing up. A heavy hand grasped her neck and held her down just as a second blow landed on her ass again. "Do not move, Miss Summers." he snarled and she felt a tremor of fear running down her spine, merging with her excitement. The moisture between her legs increased and as the third blow landed she felt it starting to pool in her panties. Almost more shocked than when she found herself turned on by seeing his violent side she realized the rapidly increasing sting of his blows were escalating her arousal even further.


After the fifth blow he stopped. "You must learn to do what you are told. To do exactly what you are told. Nothing more, nothing less." Then he continued his slow, measured blows while the firm hand remained heavy on her neck. He hadn't touched her anywhere else but she was moaning by the time he stopped at the tenth blow. "Do you understand, Miss Summers?”


Weakly, she replied. “Yes.”


“Yes, SIR!” and another blow, this one harder than the others, underscored his demand.


“Yes, sir!” she gasped.


“And what do you say after having received your lesson, Miss Summers?"


She wondered what he wanted from her and hesitated.


The hand on her neck grasped her hair and twisted. Hard and painful, but not unbearable. She moaned, half in pain, half in arousal. "A well-mannered person usually says 'thank you' after a lesson," he admonished as if to a child.


"Thank you, sir." she groaned quickly.


"Very well." William let her go and took a step back. She started to straighten but froze at his sharp retort. "Have I told you to move?"


After a moment she felt her panties being lowered, still without him actually touching her. When they were around her ankles, the skirt was unzipped and drawn down her legs. He lifted her feet, one by one, and removed both items of clothing. Laying the skirt beside her on the desk, he took the panties in his hand, walked around his desk to where she could see him, opened the top drawer, and while looking her in the eye, dropped them inside. At the sharp bang of the drawer being closed, she flinched. He smiled widely, with anticipation, and she felt a small tendril of moisture running down one of her legs.


He sat down in his big leather chair. "Stand up and come here."


Buffy complied immediately. When she stood before him, she felt more exposed than ever in her life, in high heels and a crisp white blouse that only went to the top of her hips and nothing in between. William eyed her appreciatively. "I wish to know that you would do any task I set you to, without hesitation."


"Yes, sir," she said breathlessly.


He leaned back in his chair, every line of him a calm, collected business-man. "Can I trust you would satisfy any need I might have?"


"Yes, sir." She glanced down at the obvious bulge in his lap, hoping that would be the task he would order her to satisfy.


"Take off your blouse and your bra."


Buffy unbuttoned her blouse with shaking fingers. His eyes darkened as he watched her every move. When it was off he pointed to her skirt and she laid the blouse on top of it. The bra went on top of the pile. Standing up again, now only in high heels, she waited while William’s eyes roamed over her naked body. She felt herself flush as his eyes caressed her flesh, so hotly she could almost feel the blistering trail of them. Her nipples were hard and aching and her pussy was throbbing with need. What would he want her to do? Would he ask her to show him how she masturbated? Would he ask her to open his pants and taste him? Would he—


"Fetch me a drink."


She looked at him, confused. He nodded towards the cabinet at the far corner of the room and she walked towards it on unsteady legs. Opening the doors, she found glasses and bottles. Before she could ask what he'd like, he said, "Glenfiddich on the rocks. Take some extra ice in another glass."


She put a couple of ice-cubes in a glass and poured the golden liquor over them, filled another glass with ice and returned. As she set down both glasses on the table, he motioned for her to turn around again.
"Bend over and be quiet."


Buffy felt flushed, as if fevered, and light-headed. Slowly she folded over the desk again, with her open, wet sex right in front of the face of the man she so desperately wanted.


She could see a hint of him at the edge of her vision. William took his glass and sipped from it. She heard the ice-cubes tinkling. He leaned forward a bit and put the glass beside her and picked up the one with only ice. Then she felt something cold touch the base of her spine and she began to shake. The ice-cube glided against her flesh, slowly snaking patterns against her backbone until it finally melted.


The next one started at the back of one of her knees and gently painted a cool winding trail up along her thigh, making abstract swirls on the skin. The third one ghosted a similar path on her other leg.


The fourth one touched her nether lips and she thought she'd go insane with the teasing feeling as she moaned. The touch vanished and she got a hard blow against her bottom again. "I said, be quiet."


She closed her mouth and tried to be absolutely quiet as the cold contact returned. Lightly caressing the lips, just skirting the edges, and then – slowly, slowly gliding between them, the hard but by now very small piece of ice was pushed inside her and she felt just the tip of his finger as the sliver of ice vanished inside her, instantly melting and adding to the wetness that by now had formed a wet path down her right inner thigh.


Yet another piece of ice glided against her opening and this time it only skirted the edges briefly before it went the same way as the previous one. Her inner walls clenching, yearning to be filled by something more substantial, Buffy made fists with her hands and screwed her eyes shut while she tried not to groan.


The next cold touch started at the sensitive piece of flesh between her pussy and her ass, and before she fully understood what he intended, circled the puckered opening twice and then was pushed inside. This time she couldn't contain an astonished and excited moan and her punishment came quickly.


Buffy screamed in shock as the flat of his hand landed right on her spread and swollen pussy. It burned and the sensation was even stronger since the ice had cooled the flesh. "No, please stop!" she cried out without thinking.


He ignored her and landed another blow to her sensitized flesh, sending a bolt of both pain and pleasure to her core.


She cried out wordlessly, but more with pleasure than pain this time. The third time a sob escaped but at the fourth slap she managed to be quiet, only a couple of tears squeezed between her eye-lashes.


Her protest had been a reflex to the shock of the pain. She didn’t really want him to stop and now she understood his insistence of a safety-word. A strange sense of security stole over her as she realized she could scream at the top of her lungs, say no in any way imaginable, but unless she used her own chosen word with deliberation, he would know she didn’t truly mean any of it.


When William stopped she managed a choked "Thank you, sir." and he murmured "Good girl."
Embarrassed, she realized his small praise shot a fresh spike of desire through her.


At the edge of her vision she saw him picking up his drink again, He sipped from it and then disappeared from her view. She tensed up, wondering what devilish things he had planned now. A cold but soft touch that she realized was his tongue, made cool with his drink, now skirted her sex and she felt herself coming nearer the edge of her tolerance, every muscle vibrating, not allowed to even groan her frustration. She was at her wit's end. He licked her gently a couple of times and just barely slipped the tip of his tongue inside her folds. She heard what sounded like a low growl and then he pulled back, muttering "Damn, you taste good." She heard him moving in his chair. The glass was placed on the table. Recognizing the sound of a belt being unbuckled she eventually heard the sweet sound of a zipper.


Buffy waited in agony, wondering if she would finally feel him inside or if he was just going to watch her while he did a hand job on himself. At long last he ordered her, "Turn around."


She turned and looked at him. Leaning back in his big leather chair, he was the very essence of a powerful well-dressed businessman and the somewhat startling look of his thick white cock standing to attention in the middle of the darkness of his opened trousers looked incredibly erotic. She felt herself begin to salivate.


He watched her with hooded eyes for a moment. His calmness added to her excitement and she felt like screaming with frustration. She’d never felt so aroused before, vibrating all over, and the man that made her feelings spiralling out of control seemed so very firmly in control of his own. She’d noticed his voice thicken earlier and his erection showed plainly his arousal, but she wanted desperately to see his composure crack, to see that he wanted her.


Finally, to her elation, he said, "I need you to take care of this," glancing down at his erection.


She swiftly fell to her knees and put her hands on his thighs, eager to taste him. He stopped her with a raised hand. "Your hands must be behind your back."


She hesitated, looking up at him. He stared at her quietly and, she thought hopefully, with faint approval as she slowly bent her arms behind her and grasped her hands together. She hoped she’d be able to please him. Right now she would endure anything to be able to touch him or to have him touch her. As she neared his erection again, he spread his legs so she could come all the way towards him. She licked her lips and then softly began to caress the bulbous head with her lips and tongue. She placed wet, open-mouthed kisses along the smooth underside of the shaft, then licking slowly up along the length again. During her ministrations she glanced up at him, wanting to see if he enjoyed it.


His face was calm, but she could see muscles in his temple and jaw working from time to time, his nostrils flared as she licked the salty drop that had formed in the slit and his eyes bore into her as if they could see straight into her soul. Knowing she was getting to him made her bolder. She started sucking on him, first only the very tip of the head, then slowly taking more and more of him into her mouth. When she’d taken as much of him as she could fit inside her mouth she swallowed around him and heard a small groan from above her. Triumphantly, she wanted to try and deep-throat him but felt unsure of her balance and one of her hands flailed out as she tried to steady herself.


"Stop!"


Buffy felt mortified. Why, oh, why did she ruin it?


She let him slide out of her mouth and he stood up. Without any attempt of covering up, the erection proudly poking out of his trousers, he walked to the cabinet behind his chair, and opening a door he picked up a rope. She blinked. A rope? Then, as understanding blossomed she thought she'd burn up with combined embarrassment and excitement.


He walked behind her, and to accommodate him without him having to ask, she quickly put her hands up on her back for him and he tied her wrists together.


His voice curled around her like a physical caress. "For being such a good girl and understanding that you need to be tied, I will make this lesson quick." Glad she'd gotten the small warning she barely flinched as his hand swatted her back again. Three times, only. She was proud that she managed to be quiet each time even though both her cheeks were beginning to feel really sore. She even remembered to say "Thank you, sir" when he stopped.


"That's a good girl" he murmured and she flushed once more in pleasure. "I think it's time for a reward. Remember to be quiet." She heard a ripping sound and then he pushed her face down in his chair. She felt something nudging her pussy and with a sense of delight she realized he must have put on a condom as the head of his cock slowly traced her lips up and down, gliding easily in her fluids. Agonisingly slow he pushed himself inside of her.


She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming and to force herself to keep as still as possible as she was slowly filled to the brink. She would surely die if he stopped now. When William was finally completely sheathed inside her she felt him holding perfectly still and she held her breath.


After a few moments that seemed like hours, he whispered huskily, "Now you may scream if you want to," and proceeded to fuck her with abandon. The order having released her, she wailed like a banshee as she was drilled from behind, his hands hard on her hips and his cock thrusting inside her over and over again, sending jolts of pleasure deep inside her with every impact.


She wanted to claw and bite at anything and everything at the intensity of their coupling, but the restraint of her tied hands contributed to the force of her feelings. She heard him pant and groan in sync with her louder screams and a feeling of pride that he seemed almost as out of control that she felt washed over her.


Before long, she was pushed over the edge and fell screaming into the abyss. He followed almost immediately with a hoarse "Oh, fuck! Buffy!"


Spent, she lay limp with him draped across her back for a while as they caught their breaths. She wondered distantly if she glowed, knowing for certain that she’d never been this satisfied before. Thinking about his voice as he called her name made her smile lazily. As restrained as he’d been before, she didn’t think he would have lost control just over an orgasm. This event must have affected him quite a bit as well. Her insides clenched once more and William hummed softly in response, his by now soft cock reacting with a small twitch.


After a while he withdrew from her carefully. She ached after the rather harsh pounding she was unaccustomed to but still felt his absence keenly and almost whimpered at the sense of loss. He gently released her wrists, rubbed her arms a bit to help the circulation going and then aided her to stand up. Next he took a towel from the same cabinet that he had taken the rope and she fleetingly wondered what other items he had hidden inside. He gave it to her to wipe off her spendings. After removing the condom and zipping up, he went to his liquor cabinet and poured her a glass of water with a dash of whisky.


"Thank you," she said with voice slightly hoarse from her screaming, omitting the 'sir' purposefully. He smiled, this time warmly and gently and there was not a hint of the demanding man that had ordered her around. When she'd drained the glass he handed her the clothes one at a time. He leaned his hip on his desk and looked at her with a warm and open expression on his face. He didn't seem anxious to get her out, but he didn’t open up any conversation either, just observing her dressing slowly, still a bit unsteadily.


Buffy ached but she wanted more and at the same time she felt rather self-conscious. Now that she’d calmed down a bit she remembered that this man who had made her scream so wantonly was her boss, and she didn’t know how he expected her to act.


Buffy cleared her throat when she had finished dressing. "My panties...?" she asked uncertainly, glancing at the drawer where they had been dropped. He shook his head, but his smile still graced his lips. His voice was as smooth as ever but there was an extra layer of warmth to it that she’d never heard before when he said, "Those are mine now. But if you ever want to do this again, I'll promise to buy you a new pair."


Her heart lifted. He wanted to do this again? Then she remembered what he'd said in the beginning. She whispered a little uncertainly, "Until next time...?" and was relieved to see his eyes light up. He leaned into her and gave her a soft, lingering kiss that tingled on her lips, his hand caressing her back briefly but firmly. She melted into his embrace for a moment, feeling desire that she thought was spent starting to stir in her belly once more. He withdrew an inch and murmured against her lips, "I'll be happy to give you any kind of lesson you want, pet. Anytime. Maybe tomorrow after work you could come by my place and stay the entire night?"


She smiled, relieved, and nodded. William let go of her after a final kiss and Buffy let herself out with a bounce in her steps. Oh, yeah, she'd definitely be there for her discipline lesson. Maybe she could convince him she'd been a very naughty girl and he could tie her up some more?


The End




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