Stuck In The Middle With You

Written by: Toga

Summary: What do you need to know, it’s erotica! Timeline: After “Wrecked”.
Distribution: Joss owns the Buffyverse, but I own my dirty, little mind.
Disclaimer: The show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all of it's characters belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, et al.
Dedication: To my kindred spirit: Jet Girl
Thanks: To Meredith for starting me on this journey, for all the encouragement I received, to Nauti for the challenge and especially to Vic, my beta, my special girl.
Author’s Notes: This is a direct response to Nauti's fic challenge on 11/29. Blame Nauti!
Feedback: Yes, whip me! – erp, I mean, yes please.comicslut@cfl.rr.com





Buffy watched Spike’s head roll from one of his shoulders to the other. His eyelids hung half shut. She had stopped trying to reach him some time ago. Instead, she passed the time reading through the sealed file she had found on her doorstep after returning home from patrol. Pictures of her and him fighting in that abandoned building lay across his bed. Pulling her unbuttoned silk shirt back up her bare shoulder, she flipped through the official reports on his chip, what it was designed for and a number of cases of malfunctions.

The Initiative had left Spike chained to the wall in his basement home under his crypt in only his black jeans and tee shirt. The entrance they made by blowing a wall down had been resealed. Buffy couldn’t tell which explosion had smashed the ladder leading out of this hole. She scowled more at herself for not observing the missing ladder before jumping in. She spent the first few minutes of her imprisonment trying to communicate with Spike, but he was obviously heavily drugged for easy capture. She spent the next several minutes trying to break the chains holding his arms apart, stretching them out from his sides. The stone debris on the floor told Buffy that the new hardware was a gift. She couldn’t unlock the metal manacles around his wrists, break the glistening chains or remove their base from the wall.

On his knees, he relied on his bonds to support him. Buffy had spent a few seconds trying to get him to stand up, but found that just as useless as trying to talk to him. She was sure she could jump out, but she’d only have to be back to get him out. She decided to wait the drugs out; maybe the two of them together could free him.

The candles burned, giving her light to read by and adding warmth to the room. Buffy slipped her coat off, laying it across a nearby chair. Her tank and pink shirt didn’t leave much to the imagination. She remained lost in the various notes, trying to decode the meaning behind the scientific mumbo-jumbo. Buffy felt that the answer to Spike’s ability to fight her without pain remained locked behind seventeen syllable words and mathematical equations.

“Sssssssllaaaaayyyyyyyyyerrrrrrrrrr,” Spike sang, swiveling his head in her direction. Buffy stopped her pacing to look at him.

“Ssslayyyerrr,” he grinned wickedly. “Finally…..have me…..where…..you….want ….”

Buffy shot him a peeved look. Wanting to believe it was the drugs, Buffy really didn’t have the patience for him tonight. Yet, she continued her walk throughout his home, reading through the papers.

“Here, kittykittykittykittykittykitty.”

“Spike, shut up!”

“Make………me……..”

Frustrated by her inability to make anything of use out of the papers in her hand and Spike’s constant, childish interruptions, Buffy gave an exasperated sigh. Throwing her pages with the rest of report on his bed, she grabbed her coat. Her boots sent a quick-paced echo that even he could follow. She moved to the ceiling opening, trying to judge the jump.

“Aw, come…….on. Don’t. Be. That. Way.”

Buffy fired a glance over her shoulder. He was leaning in her direction with a depraved leer smeared on his face. With a disgusted cluck of her tongue, Buffy tried leaping out. Falling short, she landed back on her feet. Spike chuckled at her, allowing his head to roll back. Buffy noticed his abdomen filling out his tight shirt, showing each muscle, each curve in the candlelight. His hair waved wildly, curling into tips of tangled locks. She remained still in studying him.

“Buffy! Comesthplay, Buffy. Wanna play….”

She wasn’t sure if he even knew she was still there. He appeared lost in another drug haze. Despite herself, memories flashed brilliant images of their night of heated passion. Her nerves tingled as she felt her breathing grow heavy. She had promised herself never again. He was Spike! She should never have kissed him. Her world crashed into a wreck with one kiss.

Silently, Buffy moved closer to him, watching his deadpan face. His head was still tilted back, his neck exposed. He was helpless before her on so many levels. He couldn’t touch her if she didn’t want him to. She would be in complete control. She felt a small spasm explode between her legs at the thought. Giving into her developing lust, Buffy justified to herself that Spike probably wouldn’t remember.

He tried to look at her as she took off her blouse. Carefully, she wrapped her silk shirt around his head, tightly knotting it behind his head. From his platinum blonde hairline down to the tip of his English nose, his face was concealed in her makeshift blindfold. His slack jaw tightened as he inhaled her scent deeply.

“What….are…..you—doing?”

Satisfied with his sightlessness, Buffy tilted her head into his, brushing her lips lightly across his. Clenching his hands closed, he instinctively sought her mouth, hungry for a deeper drink. Buffy pulled away to gauge his lucidity. He mewed for her, lost in her touch. She watched him try to find her, smelling and listening. Buffy whispered to Spike.

“If you’re good, you’ll get a reward. If you’re bad, you’ll be punished.”

Spike smiled. Buffy could tell her words managed to make sense in his head when he smiled a knowing smile. With a brief chuckle escaping his throat, his smile turned into a smirk. Buffy’s face pinched at his response. Her forearm muscles tensed as she folded them across her chest. She wanted to smack that look off his face. His brief chuckle and smirk through his drugged state pushed the wrong button in her.

Clutching his shirt’s collar in her hands, she released her anger by tearing his shirt down the front, exposing his firm chest. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of his defined, powerful muscles. His sputtering giggle brought her ire back into focus. Grabbing his erect nipple between her finger and thumb, she gave a quick squeeze. He gave into a full laugh. Looking cross, Buffy squeezed harder. In between the laughter, he acknowledged that he felt her attempts to hurt him.

“Ow!” Spike tittered.

Buffy gave a sharp twist, stopping his laughter. Smiling with satisfaction, she sauntered away. With the sound of her moving, Spike’s face strained with his anger. Trying to rise, he pulled against his bonds in silence. Turning around at a safe distance, she watched his muscles tense across his chest and arms. She could see his strength hadn’t returned. After a few moments of strain, he relaxed again.

“I can go all night like this, Spike,” Buffy stated matter of fact. She slowly paced back to him. “You know I can. And you can’t do a thing. Actually, there is one thing you can do. Please me. Can you do that, Spike?”

Spike’s anger rose in the form of breathing. He hated that old human trait, but right now, he hated the Slayer more.

“Are you getting it yet, Spike? You are my toy.”

“You don’t know how,,,,,,,,,,to play, Slayer.”

“Who says I don’t? Setting the rules tonight, Spike.”

With a deep growl, Spike lunged at her, straining his bonds once more. His animal power thrilled her, sending a slight shiver down her spin. Her eyes drifted to the growing bulge in his jeans. Back on his knees once more, Spike panted, trying to control his frustration. He knew she was right. In his current state, he couldn’t stop her. She had him right where he wanted to be.

“Poor Spike. Is it the drugs that are making you so weak, so easily caught, or is it something else?”

Reaching down, with her fingers, Buffy rubbed Spike’s stiff cock through his pants. Twisting his head from side to side, he tried to fight the sensation and the drugs. Buffy delighted in watching him struggle with himself.

“My, so eager already.”

Buffy felt her excitement growing. With her core tingling as well, she slowly stroked his length. The feeling of being dominant over him only added to her arousal. Buffy found herself eager to pay him back for all the discomfort and pleasure he’d caused her. Drawing her fingers up past his waist, Buffy curled her fingertips, dragging her fingernails up over her six-pack stomach. He moaned, washed in the stimulation. His red skin burned from her scratch.

Again, Buffy moved away to prowl around the room. Left to wonder, Spike shifted his hips. Seeking relief for his captive arousal, he carefully rocked back and forth, trying to adjust himself. His inability to affect any change in his discomfort caused the vampire to center on his helpless state. New currents of ecstasy flushed through his system.

Sudden, sharp warmth dotted his exposed chest. He inhaled deeply, washed in a new sensation of slow heat and quick delight. The Slayer relished his reaction as she dripped the wax from one of his pillar candles, trying to hit his stiff nipples. Watching the wax solidify and crack against his cool skin, she found she couldn’t stop making patterns across his exposed abdomen.

Spike felt lost, battered between the drugs in his head and the waves of pleasure throughout his body. Breathing out of control, he slumped back, giving Buffy full access. Part of the thrill came in his futility in resisting her tortures and part in his surprise at her torments. From deep within, he knew he never wanted to resist her in anything, having given himself to her so long ago.

“Where else can I play?” The woman teased, slowly unbuttoning his jeans. Pulling the zipper down, she searched in anticipation for his cock. His increased panting and rigidity of body brought her focus back to his face. Momentarily confused, she observed Spike. His breathing was shallow and quiet. His body froze in his helpless position. She thought for a moment he’d gone mad, but realized that he’d gone somewhere in his memory. As a result of her actions or the drugs, the Slayer realized that the bad boy was reliving another instance, with another.

Returning the candle to it’s home, Buffy crawled upon the bed. She slowly undressed, careful to fold her clothes as she disrobed. Listening for his calmer breath, she lied on her side, observing his return. Slowly rubbing her hands over her bare flesh, her mind sifted through the choices before her. She could continue on someone else’s path, trying to out-do past loves, or she could walk her own path. Pinching and rubbing her own hardened nipples, she knew what she had to do.

Rolling onto her back, the Slayer moved one hand down her taut stomach. Slipping through her curly blondes, she gently caressed the folds of herself. Letting her excited breathing grow audible, Buffy explored her core until she found the magic spot. Rubbing with greater pressure, she moaned. She closed her eyes, giving into the rapture.

Deprived of impetus, the vampire’s remembrance left him. Fighting for a focal point through his haze, he heard soft, wet sounds. He listened to Buffy moan away from him. Piecing together the puzzle, he inhaled her aroma.

“What am I doing, Spike?”

Completing the picture, his body rocked with ecstasy. His brain instantly flooded with images of her touching herself: different positions and expressions to match the sounds and scent. Silently, he learned real anguish. She was so close, so tangible, so alive, so eager and he couldn’t touch her, help her, devour her. While she drove herself over the edge, he couldn’t even watch.

“You’re such a bad girl, Slayer. I know you’re bad. Let me show you how bad you are.”

“You can’t show me. But I can show you.”

Attentive to his distress, Buffy moved from the bed to him. With the hand she used to indulge herself, she brushed his lips with her fingertips. Drowning in that familiar fragrance, Spike seized her fingers with his mouth. Sucking, he savored her flavor on his tongue. His quick reaction surprised her. As he nursed her juices from her fingers, she trembled in agitation.

“Please me, Spike.”

Gently tugging his snug jeans down pass the supple curves of his ass, Buffy smiled as his cock bounced free of its bondage. Curling her fingers around his shaft, she slowly stroked. Like a conductor before her orchestra, Buffy tapped the wand for attention. He replied with a guttural growl. Eager to play Spike into the next movement, she petted his shaft one, firm time.

Wrapping her leg around his shoulder, Buffy employed the chain to pull herself onto his chest. Enfolding her other leg on his other shoulder, Buffy balanced herself on his shoulders. He grunted under the extra weight, feeling the manacles pull his arms rigid. Touching the wall behind, she carefully straightened her spin, sliding her loins up his chest. Spike forewent the command, plunging into her with his mouth. Licking, nipping and lapping his way into her center, she felt the fire burn through her in a single sparkle. She gasped her approval.

Feeling the wave build, Spike’s fervor increased. Buffy purred her ascent, but plateau-ed just before rolling into bliss. Pushing herself against his face, she ground against his mouth, eager for release. She felt her frustration increase. Though his technique sent tremors up her backbone, she knew she wouldn’t reach that glorified end continuing. Arching her back, she rolled off of him, catching herself with her fingers on the floor. The cartwheel descent broke their connection.

“Aw, poor William,” Buffy turned the deliciousness over in her mind. Despite herself, she grinned wickedly. “You didn’t please me.”

His face flushed with anger and shame. He knew he was close to satisfying her, yet she had pulled back. Feeling the smog lift, he tried to calculate her next move, preparing himself for the next sensation she had for him. Her bare feet quickly padded across the stone floor, pausing momentarily at the rustle of cloth before making their return trip.

At first, he thought she was scratching him with her fingernails, but his flesh-inflamed spasms signaled danger. His mouth opened and his mouth dried as she dragged her stake point across him. Her heart raced faster at his response. Moving the point to under his chin, Buffy held Spike in place. He snorted his discontent. She clucked her tongue with approval.

“Do you know what this is?”

Languidly, she trailed the point down his gulping throat to finish over his heart. She watched the cold wax flake from his body as she made her path. Pushing down, she danced carefully along the boundary of finishing him. Terror gripped him, freezing him still.

“Buffy…what are you doing?”

“You didn’t please me.” Retracing her steps with Mr. Pointy, she flicked the sharp tip off his chin. The shudder that crashed through him arched to her. Pleased, she took the ends of her weapon, placing the middle to his lips.

“Open up.”

Pursing his lips, he turned his head away. Keeping the pressure on, she forced his head back until he relented. Taking the stake between his teeth, he grunted his disapproval. His face burned as the wooden taste filled his mouth. Stepping into him, Buffy pressed herself against his. Feeling her warm flesh against his bare skin sent him rocketing.

“Displease me again, and I won’t hesitate in using it,” she whispered in his ear. She pulled back to look at him. She smiled at his deliciousness. “Make a noise, and I’ll be displeased.”

Stepping back admiring her handy work, Buffy found she could no longer contain her own inflamed urgency. Moving to her hands and knees, she reached between her legs, grasping his throbbing cock. Positioning his head with her lips, the Chosen One pushed back, taking his length into her. She gasped as he parted and filled her chamber, filled the void. Spike’s sharp inhalation underscored the jangle of his tightening shackles.

Slowly at first, she moved to feel each ridge and bump move in and out of her, becoming lost in the tactility of friction. Need drove the pace faster. Buffy groaned with mounting elation. Reaching back with her hand, she squeezed his cock between her fingers, pushing her thumb along the bottom of his shaft. Spike thrust as hard and as fast as he could into her, past her hand, limited in his activity. Fueled by his eagerness, Buffy undulated hard and harder against him, feeling the impact up her spinal column.

Recognizing his familiar patterns, she felt Spike ride the crest towards release. With one last jolt, she crawled forward. The growl that welled from her vampire filled the room. She turned, recognizing the intonation of the demon taking hold. Spike’s forehead ridged and bumped. His fangs blanched against the post. Anger and frustration undulated his entire body against his powerless state, desperate for release.

Panting her own yearning, she drifted into another level of satisfaction: she had reached the demon. Not only did she bring him out, he was within her full control. Smiling, she beheld his writhing body until he tired. Sagging into his manacles, he let his gag fall to the floor.

Rising, Buffy knew she had touched the demon, but she now wanted to touch the man. Swaggering, she lifted his face with her hand. The other hand removed his blindfold, letting the silk shirt slip. She met his eyes, locking into a moment of understanding. His tears altered his mien from that of anger to being completely overwhelmed. He longed for her to fill his needs, but he looked at her with a request, not a demand.

Deluged by his honest face, she pressed her lips to his. The loving gesture smoldered, kindling a new desire. As she wrapped her self around him, the first chain snapped. Spike paid no notice to the metal links as the dug into his side his clinching embrace. The second restraint gave away to their passion. Locked together, he forced her onto the floor, entering her earnestly. Bucking and rocking their way back to the crest, Buffy screamed her fulfillment as Spike’s took the form of a growl nuzzled in her neck.

Neither knew how long they remained locked on the stone floor, relaxing into their divine union.
 



The End


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