I wrote this story as a little gift for my good net friend, Buffyfan - or Ttrummer, as she's known over at the AFF. I said I would write her any Buffynoncon pairing she wanted, and the pair she requested was not a thrill and a half for me to do. But the muses smiled on me and apparently thought very well of Tonya, since they allowed me to pass on this kinky little gift for her. Also, please note the P.O.V. is fluctuating.
She's lying on her stomach. She's crying, stupid bitch. Almost cost me my my job with the council. When I gave a rat's ass about the fucking council.
He laughs slightly. She can hear him above her. The laughter pierces her consciousness, bringing thoughts and contemplations; all of them are fearful of what's to come. Then his hand grazes her pussy, making her shiver involuntary. She cries silently. It's not the first time she's cried since he tied her up in his apartment, but these are new tears. She moved, she shivered, and she felt something, a little pleasure and a little shock, and she lost this round of the game 'cause she moved. There's so many rounds though, that she'll have time to gain the upper hand. Figuratively. He will always have the upper hand.
"Ow!"
Fuck, that really hurt. It HURTS when he does this to me. I don't know why it started, why I let him in the beginning. But now it seems every other girl on the planet has powers and I'm no longer chosen. As a side note in the cliff's version of Slayer history, wish I knew that before I tried to take on a troll at a mirthmaking ritual those innocent, stupid teenagers got mixed up in.
The troll, Gustav, had raped her. This couldn't be called that, not exactly.
"Ow! Oh- ooo - AGH!", she goes from whimpering to screaming, never knowing when his hand will strike next, never knowing if it will be a sting or caress.
Men are strong. She didn't notice it when she was an active Slayer; she had almost forgotten what it was like to walk down a dark alley scared, or to be afraid of her father's spankings more than her mom's. Now she has more time to appreciate these things and the power she once had. It's gone now, and he has the power. Her red ass proves that to her days after he spanks her.
"When will you learn?", I ask her, wondering how long I can pretend that I'm a normal man. Not a raving misogynist, not mal-adjusted, not in love with her, not incapable of giving her love. My hand finds itself at the entrance to her quim again, and now I dip it past her tight, faux-virgin ring and let her squirm a bit. I always find a smile on my face when I do this, knowing that she doesn't know whether to crawl from it, cry from the violation, or reach into it and let her wet cunt accept the pleasure I offer her.
"Fuck you, Wes-LEY," she says with spiteful anger, but her rage catches as two of his thick, long fingers don't slide but drive, DRIVE into her in a split second.
Of all the women he's known and dominated, fucked with, violated without their knowledge as he jerked off in treetops by their windows, she has been the most like he. Pompous and self righteous.
She gasps as another slap hits her bare, bruising ass. It's particularly sharp and painful. She bites her lip, preparing to fight him with silence. But the next thing Buffy feels is Wesley's silver tongue sliding between the valley of her asscheeks to an as-yet unknown destination. And she loses again, because this time she moans.