He watched her from below as if He were seeing from above; the map of human life acquiescently spread out before Him as He gazed down upon this newly dead treasure. She had finally passed, and the Gm.* (Reaper of the Grim Worlds, right hand Great Spirit of the GOD Hades*, wet His lips in anticipation.
She had fine golden hair, a beautiful face, and a fiery spirit that nearly burnt the map through showing her fierce aura. And now she was finally dead. For months He had watched her waste away, her body becoming dimmer and dimmer until finally, the unknown illness had claimed her for His own. The Reaper prepared special arrangements for her immediately. All throughout the underworld Kur*, servants of Death scurried about preparing a special carriage for this human who would be a great jewel in the glorious crown of the anti-life. The Reaper did not yet know what gift she possessed that made her shine so on the map, that made the eye be drawn to her place on the map even while other places of greater light shone proudly. But he knew he must claim her at once before she wandered into another Underworld - or worse still, another level of the Afteruniverse.
There were many places He and Hades could not reach, and if she came to a place below or above their plane, he would be fucked. Literally. Hades would put on His custom-made (of the bones of both perpetrators and their victims) rape hat, light a Romeo et Julietta Cuban cigar, then send his favourite 'you're fucked' minion - the orange skinned and multi-stalk-eyed Ofurnia. Ofurnia would stand before the Reaper, and He would have no other choice but to follow, despite knowing the terrible fate that would await him. Hades had only fucked him once when he'd let Kurt Cobain, an aspiring musician, travel to the Isle of Apples*; his music of woe had been lost to them forever. Hades had felt that fucking His Right Hand up the ass with His own Holy Scythe might bring some howls to compensate for the lost music. The Reaper shuddered at the memory before He continued His preparations.
After two days in Kur, the Reaper was finally ready. And with a great but quickly scheduled fanfare, the GOD Hades sent Him up above in the special carriage fitted for kings and child molestors to obtain this great beautiful ornament.
Once above the Earth's crust, the Reaper quickly found the dead woman, who he now instinctively and unmistakeably sensed was a Slayer. Riding invisible through the night sky, He soon came upon Sunnydale. The Reaper knew her house from the others immediately. The sweet scent of acquisition lingered in the welcoming winds. When He reached her house, the special carriage shrunk mid-entry into a size small enough to fit through the upstairs left bedroom of the Summers homestead; it emerged fully sized and finally visible once inside.
The Reaper gazed upon her magnificence. If He'd had breath, it would have caught in His throat. There she lay, the Slayer {the SLAYER, THE Slayer oh my sweet gods the longest living one ever, Hades will love me} with power so useful and not yet fully understood. Her face was a mask of peace, her body still except for the faint rise and fall of post-mortem gasses working their way through her rapidly decaying system. Such pretty hair... and might He have dared to kiss her there*... her neck, so closely brought to sweet oblivion and rising chariots* so oft that the foundations of holiness and all presided over - what the fuck?
The dead, blonde woman moved her neck to the right with a deliberateness that almost made her seem - alive. But that couldn't be possible, he had seen her form wasting away, turning into a bony mass of death for - oh, dear Existence!
The bitch turned on her side and snuggled up against her comforter, using her frail, bony wrist to cradle her head in her peaceful, NON eternal slumber. The cuntscab! He was FUCKED. This was worse than the Cobain incident - she wasn't even DEAD. She was ANOREXIC!!!
"Ow!", Buffy said as she awoke from the clawed, grey-white hand slapping her face. Her wide, anime-style eyes opened in shock and she tried quickly to recover and find herself on an equal footing with her opponent. But hello? This is fucking DEATH, ok? I really don't think her one liner plucky style would do her much good in this instance. And it didn't.
So the Reaper slapped her around a bit, all the while calling her an ungreatful he-bitch.
"I'm not an ungreatful he-bitch!"*, Buffy tried to spit out, but it seemed odd coming from her becaue the emaciation she suffered in the name of conforming to North-American society's beauty standard made her look like a man in drag who had no respect for the life cycle - thus being an ungreatful he-bitch. The Reaper gave her a sound beating, but it was ultimately useless. He had no power over life and death, only over the SpiritPath.
"What the fuck am I going to do, huh, BUFF?", the Reaper said, emphasizing and mocking the name he noticed on the silver ID bracelet gracing her feeble wrist, "Hades is gonna fuck me up the ass with my own scythe and it's all thanks to you!"
Buffy's eyes opened even wider in shock - but -she couldn't let natural instinct for kindness and sympathy interfere with the need to fight off an enemy , however futile her attempts might be.
As she pelted him with her best blows, which resulted in little more than an amusing display resembling a toy poodle trying to boss around an Alaskan Malamut, it struck Him with the force of a scythe being shoved up one's ass. The SOLUTION. He could avoid being held accountable for this debaucle if he gave Buffy breasts! The extra body fat would made it appear as if she had had not died, but instead been graced with a spontaneous remission of disease. It would put Hades in a foul mood, but mistakes like this were made all the time, and at least he would avoid getting the sharp end of things.
The Reaper summoned himself upto his full eight foot height, stretching out his four feet arms as regally as possble. Electricity crackled between his fingertips, and Buffy immediately stepped back from her futile attempts to fight him, her beautiful but surprisingly wet blue-green anime-resembling eyes widening in fear.
The Reaper turned to her with a fiendishly evil grin, showing a mouth full of black and yellow teeth. Then He extended one of his electric, crackling fingers and pointed straight toward her insubstantial triple A chest.
Suddenly, a wave of pleasure washed over Buffy, stemming from her orgasmically sensitive nipples and travelling down to her now swollen clit. Buffy looked down, and to her shock, her breasts were now a B cup! She gasped - she'd always wanted a B cup, but that would mean not starving herself. She didn't know whether to run from the monster or swoon toward the gift-bearer!
But as the old saying goes, beware of Death bearing gifts. The Reaper looked at her, his hideous yellow and dark rotting teeth revealing themselves in His smile. He liked His creation. And perhaps He was owed a little payback for coming all this way and almost having a stroke when He realized that the preserved mummy He was to bring home was actually a living woman.
The Reaper walked toward Buffy menacingly. As he stalked forward with a hungry gleam in his shining eyes, the Slayer fought to maintain her ground. In the end however, she moved back as he moved forward. Buffy's eyes darted around her, Slayer reflexes searching for a quick exit. But before she knew it, He was upon her, pinning her down to the mattress she had been peacefully sleeping on scant minutes ago.
"No! Get off me demon spawn!", Buffy cried out in vain.
In moments Buffy found her clothes ripped aside, and she shivered in tears and hoplessness. Grim looked down at His work, suddenly calm as He surveyed the beautiful perky breasts and perpetually swollen nipples He had gifted her with. His long, bony clawed hands gently raked over Buffy's naked mounds, causing her to shiver in unwanted desire. Then, the Reaper bent His bald head and pulled one of the Slayer's juicy nipples into His mouth. He vainly worshipped His creation, suckling it between His gold and black teeth and causing Buffy to gasp involuntarily.
What was happening to her? She was acting like a groupie! And then it dawned on her. She was. Spike had as good as told her - the MASTER had SHOWN her - she was drawn to Death. And now she was helpless to fight it, the source - what all the demons of her past who professed to offer were only gifted servants of. Death.
Buffy was shocked out of her reverie as she felt the piercing length of Death's largeness ramming inside of her, filling her wanton cunt in one deep thrust. Death was quite vast and enormous, and He filled her tight passage with more invasiveness than any previous lover had. It was making her...horny. She wanted to scream in pain, but a building arousal was also inside of her.
"No," Buffy cried softly as the Reaper looked down at her, laughing at the sexual woe of the supernatural world's most reknowned slut.
Buffy saw the smug expression in her rapist's eyes and hated Him all the more for the pit of arousal that was building in her core.
"Must fight, why god why, I ... have to aaah!", Buffy gasped as the Reaper pinched one of her obscenely large nipples between his thumb and middle finger, sending another unwanted jolt of sexual heat through her nervous system.
As Grim molested her new breasts and raped her helpless nubile flesh, the Slayer tried desperately to maintain some dignity. It was all in vain, and she soon realized she couldn't fight the sensations the Reaper's large erection and her throbbing clit were giving her. Instead, she sluttily gave into it and fucked the Spirit made flesh above her, wondering absentmindedly through waves of pleasure and blessed fullness if He was like other men or different - what exactly the monstrosity fucking her looked like. She'd fucked some nasty things in her life as a Slayer slut - leprechauns, muppets, penises with eyeballs - even frat boys. Somehow Buffy had a feeling that what was assaulting her eagerly clinging pussy was different from anything she'd ever known.
A peak crested inside of Buffy, driving her toward orgasm at a frightful pace. Buffy's hips bucked upwards as she met the Reaper's driving thrusts, shutting her eyes agains the impending sensation. Suddenly she was empty, and opened her eyes in frustration and thoughtless rage. She'd been so fucking close, what was taking so long - where was the glorious fullness she'd felt moments before?
But all her questions were answered as she saw the Reaper holding his nine inch long, four inch wide cock to her face. It was chalky gray like the rest of him. On the cloudy masterpiece was were coal black lines of definition covering what would be veins and frenulum. Grim laughingly bobbed it lightly against her own nose, humiliating her with the gesture.
"Why -", Buffy tried to ask why this glorious sensation had been taken away from her, but in that moment her mouth was flooded with hot, shining gold cum. It covered her nose, it plastered her hair to her face and shot down her throat, forcing her to swallow and taste Death. It was salty.
After the last drops of the golden fluid had been jerked onto her face and rubbed against her thin, fragile skin, the Reaper tucked his spent penis back into his ceremonial robe. With a nasty smile on his face, he facetiously and cruelly said,
"You're not ready just yet my child, you still have more work to do on earth. As my whore. How could you make me come all the fucking way to earth for someone who's still alive?!"
And with that, he flipped the Slayer effortlessly onto her stomach, reached for his long, impressive scythe and thrust the blunt end of his unpolished wooden Scythe handle straight into her still-wet pussy.
Buffy gasped in arousal, and a moment later chastized herself for being such a slut. Nonetheless, she began trying to rub her cunt up it, trying to get satisfaction she'd lost. But Death would have none of that.
"Stop moving, bitch, or I'll invite all my hell-friends here to have their way with you. Geez, all I want is a picture of you with my Scythe up your pussy, you'd think you could be a little nicer to me after I came all this way with a Royal carriage for you! It was the one for kings and child molesters! NO ONE gets that anymore, it's a fucking antique! Everyone gets shoved into the one for butterflies and shoemakers! You were gonna get it SO good, WAY better than you've made out for yourself here on earth! All I want is a fucking souvenir. Now keep still bitch!"
Buffy stilled then; it was not so she wouldn't get raped by other hell creatures like the Reaper, but so she wouldn't feel like more of a whore when she inevitably found herself fucking them right back.
"Get your ass higher," the Reaper said in agitation.
Buffy positioned her ass higher in the air, so that the Scythe was sticking s traight out of her pussy into the air above it. She felt like an umbrella rack... or in this case, a scythe rack. Behind her, she heard the clicking sound of the Kodamon Vacation Planes disposable camera taking shots of her in this humiliating position. Death took them from all around her, even ones which showed her face, looking horny, humiliated and miserable all at once, with liquid gold sperm drenching her pretty but bony face, and an obstructed view of her submissively raised whore ass behind her - and her pussy thrust out holding his Scythe.
Despite the total humiliation Buffy felt at being used and ordered around like a five dollar whore, she shut her eyes at one point when she felt Death pulling the Scythe handle to the side or moving it at different angles to get various shots. The sensation made her tremble from cherry-sized nipples to invaded womb. Her pussy hugged her rapist's tool, welcoming it to make it's mark on her womb as so many others had done by now. And that turned out to be one of the best pictures that Death got of Buffy that day, her with her ass and pussy high in the air behind her, her face plastered in her rapist's cum, tears of humiliation and submission falling from the corners of her eyes - and those same eyes closed in desire. It was truly an artist's work, and it captured the essence of goody-two-shoes-type Slayers who were stuck up tight asses with no sense of fun; it was only when something was stuck up their tight asses that they could be the slutty, clam-lapping cum-downing whores they were afraid to be. Their true birthright.
"Guess I'm done, bitch," the Reaper said, snapping Buffy out of her horny reverie and putting His camera away. Satisfied with his work, orgasm and avoidance of Hades' wrath, He absentmindedly and roughly pulled the Scythe handle out of Buffy's cunt. The abruptness of unpolished wood being ripped out of her sensitive wet slit caused Buffy to wince in pain.
The Reaper loaded His belongings into His special coach and flew out into the night air, invisible once more, down to Kur through the planes of existence. From there, He would bear the brunt of Hades' muted anger at this mishap. Then, He would make a KILLING selling these photos of Buffy on Ebay! The ones of her being fucked and raped by various demons were already makinga ton of money. He wouldn't sell all of them, of course - he would keep the best ones for himself! That way, the Reaper could have more money for His growing collection of photos of the Slayer in compromsing positions - such as her getting 'Spiked', her being forced to eat out a Giant Blue Demon Chick, her and Gordo, and so forth! Gods, what a whore she was!
And Buffy was a whore. Soon after she was left laying there humiliated, raped and unsatisfied, Buffy found that men looked at her more often - even women too. She was no longer reduced to dating mini-nazis, neutered and emotionally castrated vampires and lonely, schizophrenic doctors who looked like they'd time travellled from the seventies. Everyone seemed to love the combination of her larger breasts, along with the most adorable faint outline of skull they could on her face. After all, that's what all the chicks in MAXIM looked like, so it HAD to be the epitomy of hotness, right?
Buffy happily accepted all this attention. She felt a more than a little trampy, knowing that she'd only gotten her new fun boobs by someone who made her realize, once again, just how much of a whore she was. But she soon got over it and found herself getting back to a normal life of ignoring everyone, starving herself, whining pathetically and idolizing Spike. She even got raped by more people who weren't freakish monsters but actual human beings who considered raping someone with breasts to be more important than raping someone who was the Slayer - though she still got plenty of those too. All in all, she'd gained from the experience.
*The Grim Reaper - if you don't know who this guy is, you need to get out more... he's death. runs around in a black hooded robe, all white and bald, with a scythe. Ever see those weird things they used to use to cut wheat before tractors? weird kind of curved things on sticks. That's Grim.
*Hades - Greek god of the Greek underworld. You either went htere or Elusian fields - the fields were like heaven, but only heroes went there and it was heaven cause you didn't want anything ever.
*Kur - Sumerian underworld, domain of the death Goddess Ereshkigal
*Isle of Apples - Wiccan afterworld
*such pretty hair...and may he kiss her there? - an adapted line stolen from 'beautiful' song by Meshelle Ndegacello
*chariots rising - stolen from Lizzie West's song 'Chariots Rise'
*ungreatful he-bitch - deuce bigalow, male gigolo. Either laugh at the reference, see the movie, or go to your grave not having accomplished your life's mission
*giant blue demon chicks, pics of gordo, and penises with eyeballs. All the work or our talented writers at Buffynoncon Yahoo Group.