"He's in the basement."

Buffy scowled in response and walked as slowly as possible towards the basement door. As her hand clasped the knob, Angel caught her wrist gently. Their eyes met and held, his warm and soft, hers...a bit scared.

"You'll enjoy it," Angel whispered, then opened the door for her. "And, I'm right here."

Nodding and taking a deep breath, Buffy started down the stairs. The door closed behind her.

At the foot of the stairs, she stopped and silently looked around the room. Everything looked the same as it had earlier in the week--whips and chains and the decadent altar. A shiver ran through her, but Buffy didn't know if it was from cold...or fear...or longing.

From out of a dark corner walked Spike. He wore only a pair of black jeans, barefoot, his hair still damp from the shower. "You came."

"I promised I would," she replied sullenly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Spike looked at her closely, then reached his hand out to her. Slowly Buffy unfolded her arms and took it, letting him draw her farther into the room. He led her over to the chaise and urged her to sit. When she did, he dropped to one knee, still holding onto her hand.

"I'm not going to hurt you...well...not really."

"...It's just...It's all new, Spike." Her eyes shifted from his earnest gaze and she sucked her lower lip in between her teeth.

"I know, but we're going to play it the human way, pet. If things get too intense or too painful, or if I do something that really hurts or that you don't enjoy, all you have to do say your safe word and I'll stop. And, I know very well that Angel is just outside that door up there." He gave the stairs a wry smirk.

Buffy let out a deep breath and nodded slowly. "Okay. So, what's my safe word."

"Something easy for you to remember, but not something you'd say in the normal course of things."

"How about 'Joyce'. I kind of doubt I'll be calling my mom's name out."

Grinning, Spike agreed and rose to his feet. The smile quickly vanished, replaced with a hard, cool expression. "On your feet." Buffy obeyed, fidgeting slightly. "Take off all your clothes and put them on that chair over there," he ordered, pointing to a hardback chair by the stairs.

Hesitantly, Buffy pulled her turtle-neck top over her head, then toed off her sneakers and shimmied out of her jeans. In her panties and bra she carried her clothes to the chair, and removed the remaining bits of silk. She nearly jumped out of her skin as Spike's hands brushed against her shoulder.

He handed her a rubber band. "Put your hair up." As she did that, pulling her hair into a pony tail, Spike walked over to the wall of implements, examining each one. Buffy fidgeted more and watched as he lifted a small wooden paddle from the hooks. Picking up a blanket, he went over to the altar and covered the cold stone.

"Buffy." Spike gestured for her to join him and she slowly went to him, dragging her feet. The smack of the paddle in his hand made her jump and her eyes widen. Spike scowled at her. "When I give you an order, don't dawdle." She didn't look at him as she came to stand beside him. "Well?"

"Okay," she mumbled.

Spike made a tsking noise and grabbed her under the arms, lifting her onto her stomach over the altar, her hands dangling off one side, her feet the other. "Okay what?" he growled softly, then smacked the paddle across one rounded cheek.

Buffy yelped and jerked her head and shoulders up, but his free hand pressed into the small of her back, holding her down. "Okay sir," she gasped out. That had hurt!

"An even dozen on each lovely cheek will teach you that lesson I think." As he mused, he smacked the paddle across her other globe, leaving a lovely red mark to match the first. Buffy moaned and clenched her eyes shut and her hands into fists, trying to be submissive. "I know, it's not in your nature," he said knowingly. Another blow fell, criss-crossing the first and she concentrated on her breathing, trying to ignore the pain.

Spike administered the first beating slowly and carefully, allowing her to adjust to the severity of the blows and the shock of pain, marking her well. He was impressed that she didn't try to reach back and cover herself, but accepted, breathing hard and giving the occasional squeak at the pain. For the final two blows, he slid his free hand down over her glowing red buttocks, smiling at her hiss, then rolled her farther forward.

A hard crack landed on her upper thigh and Buffy yelled at the burning pain, her fingers clutching at the rough stone for purchase. Her other thigh received equal treatment and the tears that had been gathering burst free.

Listening to her soft sobs, Spike returned the paddle to the wall, then walked over to a table and poured a glass of water. Returning to the altar, he set the glass down and lifted her to her feet. "Drink."

On shaky legs and with equally shaky hands, Buffy lifted the glass and took deep gulps. One little hand brushed at the tears on her cheeks, and she avoided looking at him, her whole body flushed and hot from pain and embarrassment... and maybe just a hint of lust.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"...No sir," she finally replied, setting the glass aside and rubbing her nose. Spike caught her chin between his fingers and kissed her gently, then cupped one of her breasts, tweaking the nipple.

"It turned you on just a bit, hm?"

Buffy started to shake her head, but then her eyes widened. There was a hint of warmth between her legs. She licked her lips nervously and tried not to squirm as her nipple hardened beneath his ministrations.

Releasing her, Spike walked back over to the wall and took a couple items off a shelf. He beckoned to her and she joined him, trying not to look at some of the nastier whips.

Instead, she looked curiously at the harness like contraption in his hands, then took it as he handed it to her. It consisted of several elastic straps and a little plastic butterfly connected to a remote control. Spike helped her put it on, sliding it up her legs and snapping the elastic against her bruised bottom and making her yelp. As he positioned the butterfly right over her clit, Buffy turned bright red.

Catching her hand again, Spike tugged her over to the now padded, hanging manacles and chained her unresisting body to the ceiling. On her toes, her arms stretched over her head, Buffy watched his every move with trepidation.

"We had some pain. Now we have some pleasure." He flipped the switch and immediately the butterfly began to vibrate, pulsing against Buffy's defenseless clit and caressing her swelling labia. Her face flushed even more and she fidgeted from foot to foot, nibbling on her lower lip as the pleasure built deep inside her.

Spike gauged her reactions carefully, listening to her uneven breathing, her gasps, watching her eyes grow moist, then wild. At the first buck of her hips, he turned off the vibrator.

"No," Buffy moaned, swaying in the chains.

Spike tucked the remote into the side of the elastic straps and strolled back over to the wall. Buffy tried to crane her head to see what he was getting, but her arms were drawn apart, not allowing her to twist in the chains. She felt him come up behind her, and jerked as he ran a finger down her back.

"You're sweating," he murmured in her ear. "Getting all slippery." His finger slid between her buttocks and Buffy moaned softly, then yelled as something supple yet sharp slashed across her hip.

Grinning at the welt forming on her still slightly reddened skin, Spike wielded the riding crop with a light, yet firm hand, delivering several blows on her bottom and making her dance on her toes and twist as best she could.

Tears flowed freely down Buffy's cheeks as he hit her hard and fast, not taking the time for her to relax between lashes like he had with the paddle. The pain was incredible and just kept growing.

But...so did the desire. Already fully aroused from the vibrator, Buffy found herself squirming against the hard plastic, trying to get more friction. Every blow made her whimper and made her hotter. Sweat slid down her face, mingling with her tears, and she panted heavily.

The crop left ugly welts on her tender skin, but Spike knew just how hard to hit and not cut her, and just when she was at her breaking point.

As she squirmed and mewled and fidgeted on her toes and pulled on the chains, Spike dropped the crop, quickly unfastened his jeans and stepped behind her. Catching her abused hips and making her nearly shriek in pain, he jerked her legs apart and slammed his cock inside her.

"OH GOD."

As she yelled and bucked back against him, Spike's head fell back and he thrust violently. The sight of her bruised and welted from his blows, dripping with tears and sweat and lust, had made his cock ache with need. The angle drove him deeply into her tight passage, stretching her and filling her with each merciless thrust. He lifted her off her feet, spreading her legs with his hips, pumping harder and harder.

Buffy whimpered and moaned and tried to squirm. Her sore bottom slammed again and again into his pelvis and all it did was make her pussy clamp down on his cock. She felt the orgasm coming and gasped, drawing shuddering breaths into her lungs. Her clit throbbed and rubbed against the vibrator, sliding with her juices and finding the necessary friction.

Half-way mindless, Spike felt her body trembling, her pussy clenching around him, and flicked the switch on the vibrator.

As the pulses hit her swollen clit, Buffy gave a guttural cry of pleasure and exploded. Her orgasm sent her into great shudders of bliss and she let him hold her up as her head lolled forward, her breasts heaving with her need for air.

As she began to relax, her pussy only fluttering around his cock, Spike turned off the butterfly and grunted harshly before slamming into her several more times as his own orgasm overtook him.

Gasping needlessly for air, he separated from her and slumped back against the nearest wall, watching the juices leak down her thighs, highlighting her glowing red ass.

Recovering from the intense orgasm, Spike pushed himself away from the wall and slid his jeans off. Stretching, he walked across the room to replace the crop on the wall, then examined the other instruments and devices of torture and pleasure. After several minutes of contemplation, he turned back to Buffy.

She hung in the chains, her head forward, her body trembling. Glistening with sweat, she gave him a wicked idea, and he walked back over to her, moving in front of her. After removing the harness and dropping it to the floor, he reached up and unhooked her wrists, then caught her before she fell, lifting her into his arms. He lay her down on the chaise, smiling at her whimper of pain, and watched her twist onto one hip.

Spike poured her another glass of water and handed it to her, watching her gulp it down, then took back the glass and set it aside. He crouched down in front of her and reached out to gently brush the drying tears from her flushed cheeks. "Do you want to continue?"

"Do I have a choice?" she asked, rather surprised.

"Always."

She nodded slowly, blushing slightly. "Yeah, I want to continue."

"Need more rest?"

A shake of her head was his answer and he helped her turn onto her stomach, her knees bent and her calves resting along the high end. She pillowed her head on her arms and waited, not watching as he returned to the wall.

Carrying a couple of items, Spike returned to her side and snagged a stool, sitting down by her hip. Buffy opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder, then away again. "Um, what is that?"

"Well, I believe that Angel and I have been remiss in one aspect of your tutelage." As he spoke, his hand lightly caressed the red marks on her bottom, making her hiss and jerk. "Stay still."

"It hurts."

Spike ran one finger down the cleft and she bucked. He smacked his hand down hard and she cried out. "Baby," he scolded. "The marks are already fading." He opened a bottle of strawberry massage oil and began to smooth some into her bottom. Slowly she relaxed, no longer trying to escape his touch, and Spike again ran his finger down the cleft, this time circling her puckered entrance before slipping inside.

Buffy's eyes flew open and she gasped. His finger, slick with oil, stretched her tight passage, but didn't really hurt. Another finger joined the first and they began to pump in and out. Reddening in mortification, Buffy dug her fingers into the cushion beneath her and whimpered, "Spike, that's nasty."

His fingers stopped moving. "Do you want me to stop?"

"...No," she finally whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. She'd always wondered when this would happen.

Spike resumed his pumping and stretching, finally worming a third finger into her. That hurt and Buffy groaned, but tried to relax. His other hand rubbed the small of her back, and he made encouraging noises.

Satisfied that she was prepared as well as she could be, Spike pulled his fingers free and oiled up the small, black butt plug. It was the smallest they had, but it was still going to be uncomfortable. Carefully he slipped it inside, pushing past the initial resistance and spreading her passage wider than it wanted to go.

Buffy bit back a cry of pain and took deep breaths, forcing herself to relax. The plug slid farther in, and finally the widest part was past the tight ring of muscles, only the flat base remaining outside her body.

"How does that feel?"

"It hurts," she replied honestly, blinking her eyes open to look up at him. She wasn't surprised to see the lust on his face, or, on glancing down, to see that he had an erection.

"You'll get used to it." Rising to his feet, Spike pulled her with him. She stumbled and whimpered as the plug shifted, her face turning bright red again. Trying not to grin at her mincing steps Spike led her over to the wall and pulled down a leather collar and chain. Clasping the collar around her neck, he picked up the end of the leash and tugged her over to an overstuffed easy chair. As he sank into it, he used the leash to force her to her knees between his spread legs.

Another tug brought her head down and she sighed in resignation. Opening her mouth, she ran her tongue over the weeping tip of his cock, then peppered wet kisses up and down the length. As she slid her lips over the head, fluttering her tongue against the throbbing vein, Spike's hand caught her pony tail and guided her movements.

Relaxing back in the chair, he concentrated on the feel of her hot mouth engulfing his cock. He watched her head bob up and down, her cheeks balloon out as he filled her mouth. She sucked avidly. He'd taught her early on to give head, and she'd been an eager and willing student.

Smirking to himself, Spike pulled her head up, then rose to his feet, forcing to scoot back on her knees. One heel hit the base of the plug and she moaned in pain, rising back up to her knees. Taking her face in his hands, Spike saw the confusion in her eyes.

"Open your mouth, Buffy," he murmured, his thumbs caressing her cheeks. Slowly she obeyed, comprehension filling her eyes. His cock filled her mouth in one hard thrust, and she swallowed convulsively, her hands grabbing the backs of his thighs for support. She sucked defensively as he thrust hard and fast, but carefully, only reaching the edge of her throat. Every time he saw her begin to gag, he pulled back out, letting her gasp for air.

Every time, she opened her mouth for more.

The chain rested between her sweaty breasts, the heavy end caressing the damp curls between her legs, and the mental image of herself, a captive, forced to let her captor do this, to fuck her mouth, sent fresh frissons of lust through her.

Her fingers began to caress his hard flesh, as her tongue lapped hungrily on every thrust.

Sensing her willingness, Spike growled low in his throat, and let the long-pending orgasm come. Pulling nearly all the way out, he spurted into her mouth, watching her swallow eagerly. As his cock slipped free, Buffy licked her lips and looked up at him with shining eyes.

Spike grinned and, picking up the end of the chain, sagged back into the chair. Using the leash, he urged her to her feet, then to turn around, so he could look at the marks of her earlier punishment. "I don't know, Buffy," he sighed. "I think you heal too fast." Giving the chain a hard jerk, he pulled her face down over his lap, and, before she could even think to squirm, his flat hand fell on one cheek, making her shriek.

Spike scoffed at the noise she made, and spanked the other cheek, then began to alternate back and forth, careful not to hit the plug. Buffy squirmed and wriggled and kicked her heels as fresh pain flooded her. One hand was pinned against his side, but the other flew back to try to stop him. Spike slapped the hand away.

"Don't do that again."

"You're hurting me," she yelled, anger suddenly joining her pain and embarrassment.

Spike didn't respond, just returned to spanking her, covering her from waist to upper thighs in slowly purpling bruises.

Tears spilled out of her eyes and she bucked violently on his lap, then flung her hand back again. He stopped spanking her.

"Buffy, get up," Spike snapped, his voice cold as ice.

Sniffling, she rose to her feet, wincing as her sore muscles stretched, and the plug made its presence known again. Spike went over to the wall and took down a small, narrow leather paddle. Buffy whimpered when she saw it.

"Please, no more," she begged.

Stopping in front of her and watching her tremble, he waited for her to say the safe word, but she got herself under control and shook her head firmly. Swallowing hard, she clenched her hands into fists at her sides and looked up at him.

"Stand still," Spike said softly, no menace in his voice. "Don't move. Don't try to stop me. Don't speak, unless..." He left it hanging, giving her permission to use her safe word to stop him. She nodded and braced herself, expecting him to walk behind her and apply the paddle to her throbbing bottom.

Spike caught one breast in his hand and smacked the leather across the puckered nipple.

Instinctively Buffy tried to double over and cover her breast as she gasped at the pain, but he held her still, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. After nearly a minute, as soon as she regained her composure, he smacked her again.

Buffy winced, but held herself still and focused her eyes on a spot on the wall behind him. Lifting her breast, he hit the underside several times until it began to redden, then smacked the nipple again, making her hiss.

Spike repeated the beating on her other breast, concentrating on her nipple until it turned nearly purple. He stepped back to examine his work, then looked up into her tear filled eyes. "Cup them."

Buffy obeyed and took a deep breath, which exploded from her as he slapped the leather paddle across both breasts at once.

Satisfied, Spike returned the paddle to the wall, then fetched her some more water. He sat down and pulled her back down to her knees. She drank eagerly, then looked up at him with questioning eyes. "You may speak." He was very pleased with her demeanor, and wondered how often she'd be submissive to him in the future.

"Why do you keep giving me water?"

"Because you're sweating a lot, luv. I don't want to make you sick."

Surprised by his answer, and oddly touched, Buffy took another sip, then set the glass down. "Did all this come naturally or is it a vamp thing?"

Spike smiled. "Oh, I think most people have a bit of sado- masochism in them. True, demons have it in spades, but the human side of me still had to learn how to use it, and...I've never done it with a human. Well, not a human I plan to keep alive."

Buffy flushed slightly at that, and really didn't want to think about the implications of him using these same techniques to torture people, but asked, "Is it different with me, than with other vampires? I mean, Angel told me that you two don't use safe words and it makes it...more exciting?"

"It does make it exciting, but I know that it won't kill me or even permanently harm me, and I'm talking more about emotionally, luv. Demons are much more accepting of this kind of treatment. Love is the oddity for us. Love and trust. We bind ourselves to each other through pain and pleasure."

"But, you loved Drusilla."

He nodded, his smile turning slightly sad. "I always was an odd duck. Just ask the poof."

"Did you love him, too?"

At that, Spike just shrugged. "Not the same way as Dru, but...maybe."

"Did he love you?"

"Angelus wasn't capable of love, but Angel...?" He flicked her a quick grin and teased, "Here I'm thinking you're trying to avoid the next round with all these questions."

"How much more is there?" she boldly asked.

"That's for me to know and you to find out. I want you to go to the chaise and get on your hands and knees, feet at the free end." As he gave her the order, he removed the collar from her neck. Buffy rose and took small steps over to the chaise lounge. She was beginning to grow used to the plug stuffing her bottom. It felt...almost good. As she knelt, she wriggled, and felt a spark of desire zing through her womb. Pillowing her head on her folded arms, she waited in growing anticipation.

As he approached her, Spike rubbed more oil onto his cock, pulling on the hardening flesh until it reached erection. Leaning down, he placed one hand on the small of her back and gripped the base of the plug with the other. Carefully he pulled it free and tossed it aside.

It made a popping noise as it came out, and Buffy reddened, then sighed in relief as her muscles began to relax. Spike's cool, slick fingers sliding into her to replace the plug, made her eyes widen and she stiffened. "Are you going to...you know...there?"

Spike rolled his eyes and gave her a hard spank. "No, I'm going to keep adding fingers until you ask me properly."

Mouth suddenly dry, Buffy nearly choked at the lust that flared in her, but she licked her lips and tried again. "Are you going to fuck me there?"

"Fuck you where."

"Um...in the bottom?"

His fingers slid free and with one hand he took a hold of her hip, watching as she physically flinched as he touched her bruised flesh. He applied more oil with his free hand, then guided the tip of his cock to her tight passage. "Yes," he groaned softly, both in answer and in satisfaction as the head of his cock slipped past her sphincter muscles.

"Ohhhhhhh," Buffy moaned as his cock spread her wider than the butt plug had, then her voice rose in a cry of mingled pain and pleasure as his pelvis slapped against her abraded bottom. "Oh God, you're all the way in."

Spike grinned in pleasure and forced himself to remain still for a long moment. "Pull forward, Buffy."

"Wh-what?"

"Until my dick's almost out, then push back," he instructed.

Her eyes widened and she lifted her head, unable to look over her shoulder at him. "You want me to..." As she spoke, she unconsciously obeyed him, wincing as her inner tissues stretched. She stopped as the thicker head of his cock reached the tight ring of muscles, then moaned and shook as pleasure lashed through her just at the thought of him in her ass. "Fuck myself on your cock?" she moaned, her voice high and breathy as she thrust backwards.

Spike grunted, his eyes nearly crossing in ecstasy as she obeyed him, driving his cock to the hilt inside her. He knew it had to hurt her, but she began to move on him, back and forth, fucking them both. After a half dozen thrusts, Spike couldn't contain himself anymore, and grabbed her thighs, thrusting with her. With a loud howl, he came, spilling his cool semen inside her burning passage.

Buffy mewled and squirmed, trying to keep him inside her as he pulled free and slumped down on the floor, his back to the chaise lounge. "Please, oh, please," she begged, her fingers digging into the velvet as her womb and clit throbbed with need.

Resting his head back on the cushion, Spike grabbed her leg and tugged her around until she stood over him, her torso still on the chaise. Lifting his head, he lapped his tongue along her dripping cleft, then flicked her clit until she yelled and spasms ran through her. Buffy continued to beg, the word 'please' spilling from her lips in gasps and moans as he licked and sucked at her swollen flesh. Two fingers thrust inside her and her vaginal muscles clenched around them, then relaxed as the digits curled upwards and thumped her g- spot, at the same time Spike's mouth fastened over her clit and he nipped.

Buffy yelled again and bucked violently against his face, her orgasm slamming through her until she collapsed on her stomach, her head hanging off the other side of the chaise. Gasping for air, stars glittering before her eyes, she sighed happily, her body totally relaxed except for the occasional tremor of pleasure.

Spike moved out from beneath her and rose to his feet, stretching. Naked he mounted the stairs, but stopped half way up as she squeaked his name. "You did great, luv. Perfect." He saw her smile happily, then grinned as she didn't bother to move from her draped position, before he continued up the stairs and opened the door.

Angel stood right in front of him, and Spike smirked. "Been standing there long, peaches?"

Stepping aside just enough to let the younger vampire pass, Angel glared down into the basement.

"I'm surprised you didn't rush to her rescue." And, Spike really was surprised.

"I heard her cry several times, and beg, and..." Angel's shoulders slumped and he turned to his childe. "I also heard you discuss her safe word and heard how many opportunities you gave her to use it."

"And you heard her come, too," Spike added smugly, stopping at the bar and pouring himself a glass of Scotch.

"Did she really like it, Spike?" Angel asked softly.

"Yes, she really liked it," Spike replied, trying to reassure the antsy vampire. "Why don't you go down and see for yourself?" He barely got the last word out before his usually silent sire was thundering down the stairs. Whistling, Spike headed for the upper level and a long soak in the jacuzzi.

Angel stopped at the bottom of the stairs and took in both Buffy's position and the sappy smile on her face. The scent of strawberry mingled with the heady musk of sex, and his cock stirred, growing hard almost instantly. Silently he cursed it, telling himself she was exhausted and, obviously from the numerous hand prints on her bottom, she was sore, but...

Buffy blinked her eyes open and slowly turned on the chaise, laying lengthwise on her stomach. She smiled up at Angel, then dropped her eyes to his groin. "Looks like you want to fuck."

"I'm going to put you to bed, Buffy." He took a step towards her and watched as she rose to her knees, spreading her legs as wide as the chaise lounge would allow her.

"I want to fuck, too." She flashed him a wicked, lusty grin, and wriggled her sore bottom. "Fuck me Angel?" she cooed, licking her lips.

Angel groaned and gave in to his rampaging erection and her coy begging, his hands fumbling at his pants. As he positioned himself behind her, rubbing the head of his cock up and down her wet cleft, he muttered, "We're going to be the death of you, Buffy."

"What a way to go," she moaned and thrust back to meet him.

 

The End

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