Author: Midnight Girl
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Willow's a little tired of being walked on. Follows the whole
Initiative episode when Spike calls Willow and Xander the Slayer's useless
groupies.
Spike woke up with an ungodly ringing in his head.
Somebody had sucker punched him, or sucker concussioned him in the parking lot of the Bronze.
He blinked, he was in someone's basement. A very dark basement. He was chained to a chair, shirtless and barefoot. His hands were bound behind his back. He bucked up against his restraints, no dice.
"Oh, good," a soft, warm voice from the corner chuckled. "Struggle, I'll enjoy the show."
"Who the fuck is there?" Spike demanded. "When I get out of this, I'll-"
"What? Lick me to death?" Willow grinned, stepping into the dim light. She was wearing nothing but a black satin bra and panties.
And a very resolved face.
"WILLOW!?" Spike cried. "Bleeding hell! Joke over, pet. Haha, let me out of this."
"Oh, I don't think so, Spikey," she laughed, shaking her head. "You hurt my feelings the other night. Calling me the Slayer's little groupie. Considering the fact that a pissed off ten-year-old could probably whoop your ass, you don't have any room to talk. I think you need an attitude adjustment, and I'm just the girl to do it."
"What?" he grinned. "Oh, come on, pet. You know I didn't mean it. I just say things like that when I'm upset."
"So, you get upset and that means you can stomp all over my emotions?" she spat, slapping him. "No, Spike, that's not how friends treat each other."
"Are we friends?" he asked, huskily. The sight of Willow's impassioned face, whether in anger or lust was enough to give him a raging hard-on. Knowing she had planned this, probably for a week or more, made his jeans too tight to squirm.
"I thought so," she whispered, leaning close to him, her hands on his knees. She squeezed lightly. He moaned. "I thought we were on our way to being more. But then you went all stupid on me, like most men, and you must be punished."
"How?" he moaned as she straddled his knees, she grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. She licked his jugular with a wildly lashing tongue.
"I'm going to ride you until you lose consciousness and you're not going to be able to control anything," she said, unclasping her bra. Her pert breasts were just out of his lips' reach. "You'll be my little toy. And you'll beg me to play with you. I'll make you beg me for release. And when I'm done with you, you'll thank me and then get the fuck out of my house. Got it?"
He nodded desperately. (Please please please, let's just get started.)
"Good," she said, unzipping his jeans slowly. "Now how does a good little vamp ask nicely?"
"Please," he whispered as she hovered above his shaft. She grinned, stroking him with her warm fingers. He gasped needlessly.
"Please, what?"
"Please let me come inside you," he whimpered, bucking up against her palm, aching for release. She reared back and slapped him.
"You don't do anything until I say so," she hissed. He grinned up at her, he liked this game. She sank down onto him, he stretched her taut warmth. He cried out. She chuckled. "Stay as stiiiiill as a sculpture."
He whimpered as Willow rode him with aching slowness. As she rose, she squeezed him tight with her inner muscles. He cried out again, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.
"PLEASE!" he shouted.
"Oh, alright," she moaned. He thrust up into her warm wetness over and over until he fell over the edge of black oblivion.
His eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped back against the chair. Willow bit her lip, grinning. She reached around his back and unclasped the lock at his wrists. He would be able to leave whenever he wanted.
She got up, grabbed her robe and scampered up the steps. She flicked off the basement light taking one last looks at her captive.
"And let that be a lesson to you."
THE END
read the sequal 'Sweet Revenge'