Title: Still Inside
Warnings: Fetish, BDSM, violence, sexual situations
Word count: ~10k
Setting: Post-s10 established relationship (no comics knowledge needed)
Summary: Spike and Buffy have been happily together for a couple of years and have been magically locked into a sex store. What to do but have a very porny kinkfest?
“Let’s try again, shall we?” he said, with the hint of a growl. Then he wrapped his right hand in her hair and pulled, making her neck crane back painfully. “I’m gonna give you one very special blow, and if you make any sound other than thanking me for your punishment, I’m gonna give you another three. That clear, you dirty little girl?”
Buffy squirmed beneath him, the will to fight back warring with the urge to just submit already. She only managed to nod as she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the impact, trying to relax her back even as she struggled to keep her ass arched up—
She yelled as the paddle hit her right between her legs, her clit going mad as it registered it as excruciatingly painful and excruciatingly pleasant at the same time. She thrashed under him, until he tugged at her hair harder and forced her down on the counter with his elbow.
“Now that didn’t sound thankful, did it?” he taunted, his voice smug. “’Fraid that means another three for you, you disobeying little Slayer.”
Fuck fuck fuck, how could his words make the pain feel delicious, her pussy empty, her clit desperate?
“Please,” she begged in a low voice before she could stop herself. “Please…”
“‘Please’… what? Punish you more? Yes, my dirty pet,” he chuckled, the paddle grazing her lower lips before rubbing at them hard. “Figure that’s exactly what you deserve.”
“Oh, oh, oonnn, uh!”
“Same rules apply,” he said almost conversationally, even as he rubbed her dangerously closer to orgasm with that damn thing. “Three strokes, all I want to hear is Thank you, Sir. Got that?” he asked, grinding harder.
“Ooh, uun, mmrn!”
“And another rule,” he added gleefully. “This is punishment,” he said, the paddle painfully scraping against her as he drawled the word. “But you, my bad, dirty Slayer, I can smell how close you are, all writhing in pleasure even as I punish you…”
Oh God oh God oh God, how could it be so hot? How could those words and the pain in her pussy and his every fucking action be so hot?
“And I tell you,” he continued, leaning down against her ear, “if you dare come, I’ll have to get real serious about it. So,” he breathed in her ear, grazing her skin with a sharp fang, “you ready to be a good girl and thank me for your punishment, then?”
God, he knew her too damn well, because she was ready to fall over the precipice, his words and his vampface and the pain and the pleasure all mixing together in a glorious sensation of almost there.
But she couldn’t imagine taking six more of those, Slayer resistance or not, so she nodded and braced herself. And fuck if her legs didn’t want to spread wider than the bar allowed, every inch of her body ready and willing for more, until—
She bit her lip hard, until she could feel blood, but she managed to only grunt, even as her body quivered on the very edge of orgasm.
“Did you say anything, my bad Slayer?” he asked silkily, his paddle grazing her abused lips and making her bite down harder to avoid whining.
“Uh… uhnn… t-thank you, Sir,” she managed to grit out. She was rewarded by a gentle rubbing of the paddle, making her thrust back slightly, unable to stop seeking more.
“Two more like that, and maybe you’ll convince me that there’s a good girl underneath all this filthy wetness,” he rumbled, making her lose her battle against a whimper.
Goddamnit, the asshole was too hot.
She squeezed her eyes shut again as he softened his grip on her hair, gently letting her press her forehead to the counter surface. His fingers stroked the nape of her neck for a few sweet seconds, reminding her of how much he loved and cherished her underneath all their games. She smiled, then gasped when he moved the paddle back with an obscene wet noise.
“Now be a good girl and thank me.”
Buffy fought off the howl that wanted to leave her lips and clenched her jaw instead, her pussy and clit pulsing and pulsing and oh God, she was so close, so close…
“Thankyousiiir,” she grunted out, her voice huskier than she’d ever thought possible, her body trembling all over on the precipice. God, she needed time or she wasn’t gonna make it, and suddenly her heart raced at the idea of disobeying him. She actually wanted to be a good girl for her tormentor, and oh fuck, the thought made her squirm harder.
“Good girl,” he said with an audible grin, and then his hand moved back, and she wasn’t ready, she needed—
The paddle hit her harder than ever and Buffy couldn’t keep in her yell anymore as she felt herself fall over the edge in unending waves of tortuous bliss. She moaned and moaned as she thrust back against the air, squeezing her muscles around nothing as her thighs uselessly fought to close despite the bar, the botched attempt somehow making her climax all the sweeter.
After what felt like the longest and shortest orgasm she’d ever had, she realised she was making weird, helpless noises, unable to keep them in. Meanwhile, Spike was tutting and tapping the paddle against her burning skin.
“T-thank you… Sir…” she rasped, her voice ragged.
He laughed. “Useless to pretend you can be good when you’re just a bad”—smack!—“bad”—smack!—“Slayer.” SMACK!
She moaned helplessly when he hit her inner thighs, burning previously untouched skin.
“Coming when I expressly told you not to,” he taunted her, voice a silky purr. “Disobeying my orders…”
She almost sobbed in pain, but her poor pussy kept pulsing and pulsing. God, she loved every single word he said, the way it made her crave both his punishment and his voice and his praise, and fuck, she was finally at the end of her rope; she wanted his praise, she wanted to satisfy him.
“I’m sorry, Sirnn…”
Spike laughed, his free hand stroking up her arm to her shoulder, grazing gently her still-stinging bite mark. And then he raked at it with a nail, making her gasp, even as he smacked her once more.
“So, there is some decency somewhere under all this wet filth,” he murmured, before bending and licking the throbbing skin on her neck. “What do you say to the man who’s taught you a lesson about what a bad girl you are?”
Buffy turned to look at him, so close to her face, taking a shuddering breath as every inch of her body clamoured for her attention. But his eyes were much more hypnotic.
“T-thank you… Sir,” she added when she saw his brows go up.
“Good girl,” he murmured with a nod and a nasty smirk, and she felt her pussy clench of its own volition.
Then he straightened, smacking her casually on the ass before leaving the paddle right under her nose on the counter. She couldn’t help but smell herself on it, and it made her knees tremble.
“Well, since you can’t stop yourself from coming while I discipline you, I’ve come up with another punishment, the ideal one for a Slayer as bad as you.”
Buffy squirmed, cursing the effect those words had on her. He had a remarkable ability to find ones that drove her crazy yet never went too far.
“So now you’re going to stay right here, keeping this red, wet ass up”—he smacked her hard, making her almost bounce up—“until I come back with what I’ll use on you.”
Then he patted her lightly once and left her there, panting and marveling a bit. Who would’ve thought that she’d love the idea of being punished for being a bad Slayer so damn much?
Spike, apparently. Because her jerk of a boyfriend understood her kinks better than she did, or something. Which would’ve been annoying as all hell, if it didn’t mean drunken orgasms like the ones she’d just experienced—and the ones yet to come.
She heard the rustle of a package somewhere in the store, and then Spike was back at her side, massaging her hips with his thumbs even as he pressed some leather contraption on her skin. She felt blood rush to her face—and between her legs—at the look of utter wickedness in his eyes.
“Ready for your punishment, bad little kitten?”
Speaking of lines that shouldn’t be sexy… She managed to just nod instead of making any more embarrassing noises. “Yes, Sir.”
“Mmh, good girl.”
Magic fucking words.
He chuckled knowingly as he fastened some kind of wide leather belt around her hips, slipping two straps down between her legs that reached from her front to her back. Then he tightened them, forcing a gasp out of her as the leather scraped around her sensitive lips and throbbing cheeks.
“Can you guess what this is, my dirty Slayer?”
“Nnh,” was the only sound she could muster as Spike stroked his fingers along the straps between her legs, maybe checking how they fit, maybe just trying to drive her mad.
He leaned down to whisper against her ear. “’S just the perfect tool to punish filthy, bad girls like you.” Buffy made other inarticulate sounds as his fingers pressed against her clit through a conveniently placed hole in the harness. “Bad girls who can’t obey and come even when told not to…” He suddenly pinched her clit, making her fight against the bar that kept her legs spread open, then laughed. “Time for the best part, love.”
She heard more rustling, and then a wide, smooth something was pressing against her clit, in the hole of the harness-belt thingy.
When he was finally done fussing with it, he smacked the insides of her thighs hard, making her gasp. “All done, pet,” he said, rising to stand yet slipping one hand under her belly to touch whatever was pressed against her clit. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but no matter how she tried to crane her neck, she couldn’t see what it was, and—
“Aaah!” she yelped, the thing suddenly vibrating against her poor nub. She glanced at the vampire in time to see his smirk turn entirely too evil. Then his arm shifted and—“Uuuhnn!” she yelled, vibrations suddenly higher, and higher, and oh God she was already so freaking close—“Oh God oh God Sir—Sir, I caaannn’t uuuh!”
She spasmed and spasmed as an orgasm shook her body violently, sudden and unexpected and delicious in its intensity. She almost cried it was so good… but then the vibrations didn’t stop, they actually went up a notch, and then she did sob, because she couldn’t do it, she was disobeying again, she was such a bad girl.
“Sir Sir Siiir oh Godnnnrm!”
“Fucking music to my ears, my bad little kitten,” Spike growled, fiddling with his torture device to make it go even faster. “You wanted to come? You’re gonna keep coming, over and over again.”
“Pleaaahn!” she yelled, the pleasure mounting once more, and then she was coming again, her body thrashing against her will. He leaned down, one hand threading in her hair, the other gripping the straps between her ass cheeks—tightening them against her even more, fuckfuckfuck it was too much too much! “OhGodohGodplease,” she cried, shocked to feel actual tears form in her eyes at the delirious, uninterrupted pleasure.
And then he yanked hard at the straps, and the pleasure was mixed with pain, and she didn’t even know if she was still coming from the last orgasm or if it was a whole new one.
“Look at you,” he growled, biting at her bite mark with blunt teeth, the pain sending a pang of pleasure down to her poor clit. “You’re gonna come until you can’t take it anymore, and then you’re gonna come some more.” Then he let go of the straps, making her sigh in relief for a moment—until he spanked her ass, hard, first one cheek then the other. “Like a bitch”—SMACK!—“in”—SMACK!—“heat.” SMACK!
She wailed and wailed, completely out of control; she was his, completely at his mercy, and even as she felt she couldn’t take any more, she never wanted it to end.
He growled again, moving behind her to grip her wrists and the belt—and then he pummelled into her, the first thrust so hard and deep she came again at the force of it.
“Fffuck that’s a tight fit,” he grunted, picking up a punishing pace. God, she could hear his balls slapping against whatever torture device was strapped to her clit, the obscene wet sounds of his cock driving in and out of her. “Yeah, you dirty bad Slayer, squeeze me tight—nnng!”
She laughed brokenly, because between his thrusts and the monster attached to her clit, she had absolutely zero control over her pussy’s mad clenching. And then he grunted deeply, and swirled his hips just so, and the vibrations felt even more intense—and she came again, thrashing underneath him even as he kept slamming into her.
“Take it, take it—fucking—all,” he growled, and then he was coming too, his dick deep inside her tight pussy, and she cried out as she felt herself still on that damn high wave.
“Oh, oh, uh, Sir, please…”
He leaned down, his cock not even softening inside her. “Please what, my bad Slayer?”
She moaned, trying her best to think of the right words as the vibrator kept up its incessant job, and he was twitching and thrusting shallowly inside her, and God, it felt like she hadn’t even come down from her last but was already driving up again…
And then the perfect words came to her. “Please punish me,” she whined, pushing back into him.
He started thrusting in earnest then, his voice barely audible over the roaring of her heart. “And why do you need punishment?” he grunted, hips slapping against her abused skin.
“B-because I’m a bad, bad girl,” she sobbed, and her own voice saying it sent her over the edge again. She let out another wail as she flailed, but he only picked up his harsh pace, keeping her riding that wave.
“Yeah, you are,” he grunted. “Best—nnnrm—fucking—nnh—bad girl ever.”
“I’m a—fffrnm—bad girl!”
“Filthy girl, nh nh nnh!”
How was she still coming?
And then he jerked away from her, making her sob at the loss, and still she couldn’t feel the never-ending orgasm or whatever the hell it was fading, making her whole body shudder uncontrollably.
But Spike was talking to her, his hard cock rubbing against one of her tingling ass cheeks, his lips against her ear, and she forced herself to pay attention.
“… know what you want. What is it, my dirty wench? What do you want right now, the most?”
Buffy shuddered, trying to make sense of her own thoughts—she wanted to come, she wanted not to come anymore, she wanted his hard cock in her, she wanted this to end and to never ever end…
But most importantly, she wanted to be his.
“W-Whatever you want, Sir,” she groaned finally, the words making the pleasure ratchet up again; she didn’t even know if she was still coming or not. “I’m yours.”
Spike let out a shaky breath at that, and when she looked at him for a second she saw all of his love for her. But then the wicked gleam was back.
“Then a bit more punishing’s in order, you dirty girl.”
She whimpered as he gripped both of her ass cheeks hard, his thumbs digging in and spreading the straps between her legs—forcing the vibrator harder against her abused clit and making her shudder helplessly. And then he slammed into her, sending her into yet another delirious orgasm, and she didn’t even know if she was moaning or yelling or just gasping choked sobs.
He thrust and thrust, spanking her ass twice more, and she was coming again, wailing beneath him. He cried brokenly above her, rutting into her until he was climaxing along with her, and his lukewarm come made her orgasm last impossibly long.
She was on the cusp of crying out orange, if not red, but she wanted to obey, she wanted to be a good girl for him… and then, just when she felt a small, small lull between waves of pained pleasure, Spike turned the vibrator off.
She sobbed in sheer relief, and when he laughed, she’d never felt more his, more happy and wild to be his his his.
“My brave, strong love,” Spike said, his voice husky and warm as he snapped the belt open and let it fall to the ground. She whimpered at the loss, her misused clit still pulsing painfully, but then Spike’s hand went to cover her mound, gentle and firm, and she slumped on the counter.
“You were fucking unbelievable,” he murmured, leaning down to rain kisses on her exposed spine, the top having ridden up all the way to her shoulders without her noticing. She just hummed tiredly as he kept kissing her feverish back, his cool lips a balm, his warmed hand on her pussy making her feel anchored.
Then he slowly slipped out of her, making her moan and wonder whether she missed his presence or was thankful for the blessed lack of stimulation. His hand could cup her completely now, strong and warm and there, and she slumped again, grateful as she sighed.
“God, I can’t believe how good you were,” Spike murmured, his voice still low and soothing and so, so warm. “You’re the best sodding woman in existence,” he continued, his left hand fumbling with the chains on her wrists. “I love you so much, you wonderful woman. Best Slayer on the planet, best Slayer who ever existed…”
As soon as he’d managed to free her completely she brought a hand down, cupping his over her sex for a moment before threading their fingers together.
“Love you,” she murmured, cheek squished against the counter, a puddle of strung-out Buffy
“God, I love you so much, my brilliant Valkyrie,” he said, trailing kisses up her spine, over her top, until he got to her neck, where he kissed and licked and nipped, giving her bite mark the gentlest attentions, and she sighed deeply again. “Don’t know what I did to deserve you, baby,” he whispered before kissing up her neck, her jaw, to her slack lips. “I love you, I love you.”
“Mmn,” she answered, too tired to respond much to his kisses.
He smiled against her lips. “Gimme a second and I’ll get you sorted, love.”
She whined as he retreated, his right hand squeezing her fingers once before letting her go. When she blinked her eyes open, it was to see him shedding his clothes at lightning speed. Just the idea of him wanting to make love again, even sweet and tender love, had her hand go back to cupping her sex.
He let out a tiny laugh and shook his head. “Just want you to feel my skin as I hold you,” he reassured her, reaching behind the counter for a package of tissues and a bottle of water, setting them down. “Come here, my lovely,” he whispered then, gently taking off her thoroughly drenched panties and moving her off the counter.
She moaned as her back and legs and everything complained loudly, but Spike was taking her clothes off and she realised how much more freely she could breathe. Then he picked her up and sat them both down against the counter, her on his lap with her tingling butt mostly in the air.
Slipping a hand between her legs, solid and gentle, he cleaned her with the tissues, and she buried her face in his neck.
“Love you so much,” he murmured as he cleaned her. “You bold, wonderful woman. You were so amazing. Never gonna deserve your love, not ever.”
“Shut up,” she murmured, lips squished against his skin. “I love who I want.”
He chuckled, kissing her temple softly. “’Course you do, my love.”
She tried nodding into his neck, but just managed to mush her face more effectively against it. Oh well.
He kept up his steady stream of praise and love as he finished cleaning her, then he brought the bottle to her mouth and she realised she was parched. She drank and drank, until she couldn’t take any more water, and his firm hand went down to cup her again.
“I love you,” she sighed into his neck, finally finding the strength to leave little kisses on it.
“I love you too,” he said, lips against her temple.
And then they were shifting, lips roaming each other’s faces until they met. They kissed languidly… slow, soft, lovely kisses that left her feeling even drunker than before—and even more in love with him.
His free hand roamed her back, soft and warm on her skin, until it came up to her hair. He threaded his fingers in it, massaging softly until she moaned into his mouth.
She let her hands slide up on his body, his chest and his back, suddenly happy he’d stripped. She couldn’t remember if she’d told him about that, that the best part of their games was the way they held each other afterwards, skin to skin; it didn’t matter. What mattered was that she had the best boyfriend in the world, and she wanted to kiss him till kingdom come.
Eventually, she had to come up for air, and they rested their foreheads against each other, breathing deeply against each other’s mouth.
“I love you so much,” he said.
“I love you, God, I love you,” she murmured. When she opened her eyes to look at him, his radiant smile warmed her up from the inside.
“Baby, you’re so damn good to me,” he purred, nuzzling her forehead with his. “Please tell me if I went too far today.”
She gave a helpless little laugh, shaking her head slightly without breaking their contact. “It was crazy. But God, I love it when you drive me crazy.”
“You sure?” he murmured, looking at her. “Don’t wanna hurt you, baby. Or, well, not in a way you don’t love,” he added, his fingers brushing over her sex.
She sighed, closing her eyes and shifting her legs a tiny bit wider. “Let’s just say that I’ll be out of commission for a while, but I’m very happy about today.” She snickered tiredly. “So happy. You gave me way too many happies.”
He snorted, lying down and bringing her on top of him. Then he sighed deeply too, caressing her gently, making her entire body tingle in pleasure regardless of the discomforts and pains.
It didn’t matter. Ultimately, nothing mattered as much as the way they just fit. So what if her kinks were a bit crazy? He was there, ready to explore them with her, ready to hold her close and anchor her to reality when the two of them came down from their games. Ready to love her again and again, day after day, no matter what.
She suddenly wished they were in their new apartment already. She wished she could go to sleep in his arms knowing he’d wake her up with chocolate and her favourite cheese in bed, cuddling her into tomorrow, and that they’d take care of each other until the remnants of today’s scenes were completely behind them.
Scratch that, she thought, nuzzling his chest. We’re gonna take care of each other until the end of our lives. And even if that’s terrifying, I wanna believe it; I love him too much, and I know he loves me too much, to let this go.
She smiled at the thought of the two of them staying together against all odds. Yeah, it was still scarier than most apocalypses; but hadn’t they proven that they could and would fight for each other? Again and again? They could win this fight too. Together.
She raised her head from his chest. He was already gazing at her and smiling, one of his hands caressing her hair.
“I love you.”
He smiled even more. “I love you too.”
Grinning happily, she settled back down on his chest.
They were going to be all right.
They spent the last few hours cuddling and quietly talking about inane things, from the colour of the drapes they’d choose for their place—Buffy would never let him pick black, no matter how ‘convenient’ it was for the sunlight—to Spike’s last police case—he muttered something about Chaos demons being ‘bloody tossers who touched other men’s women’ and she did not want to know.
All the while, they hardly ever stopped touching each other, the contact grounding them both. Even when she started shivering and he insisted on them getting dressed again (“Slayer, if you catch a cold because you were too lazy to move, I’m gonna tell everyone how that happened”), they still helped each other, hands roaming and caressing. And then Spike sat with his back against the counter and she melted back onto his lap.
They stayed like that for a long time, chatting and nuzzling, until Spike looked to the door of the shop.
“Owner’s coming, kitten.”
She hummed softly, kissing his neck. “As comfy as you are, I’m glad we’re getting back home. God, I want a bed…”
He smiled at her, eyes soft, and stroked her cheek. “Wanna come to my place?”
“Please,” she said, leaning in his hand. “I want Spike cuddles and kitty cuddles and tasty cheese.” Which he always had a generous supply of, more often than she did herself, because she was the luckiest woman in the world.
“Works out fine, then, seeing as I want Buffy cuddles, and kitty cuddles, and a hot chocolate with marshmallows.” Which they both always had a generous supply of, because he was the luckiest vampire in the world, but also very attentive when it came to his own treats.
She grinned. And then she sighed, because in order to have all that she actually had to get up, which, ugh.
“All that, plus a gallon of blood,” Spike grunted, standing up and bringing her to her feet as well. “Bloody starved.”
Buffy circled his waist with her arms. “You could have taken some of my blood.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “You know I love drinking your blood in bed, pet, but you’re no buffet.” He kissed her forehead, then her nose. “I’ll be all right. Let’s just gather up our new toys and be on our way, yeah?”
In the end, she couldn’t help but pay for a couple of them, because really, twelve was a bit much to get for free, even if the owner had seemed too shocked to really mind.
“Think we should get trapped into sex stores more often, kitten,” Spike said as they walked back home hand in hand.
“I think that if we get any more toys, we’re gonna need a room just for them.”
“Ooh, lovely idea,” he purred, leaning down to gently nip at her bite mark.
“Down, boy,” she said with a smile. “We can’t afford that and you know it.”
“Fuck, pet, if that’s the problem, I can find money!”
“Spike, you know what I think about kitten poker. And besides, what would the cats think?”
Spike chuckled and tugged her closer, leaning his head on hers. “Hush, woman.”
“I won’t have traumatised cats in my home.” She could feel him smiling against her temple, which sent little tingles of pleasure down to her belly. “Besides, Xander would be furious. And horrified.”
“Xander would take bloody notes. You know he and Dawn—”
“And that’s where the conversation ends, mister.”
Spike chuckled again, because he had no sense of proper disgust for the thought of friends and family doing… whatever would be done in such a room. Although now that she thought about getting Spike in a place like that, a place where he’d be the perfect slave to her every need…
She pushed the thoughts away, to be revisited when the pulsing between her legs was no longer so uncomfortable.
“Can’t believe you manage to be a bit of a prude even after all that, love.”
“I’m not a prude,” she protested. “I just have boundaries.”
“Overrated,” he said with a shrug.
She shook her head, but when he grinned at her, she couldn’t help a grin of her own. Because she was ridiculous when she was in love, and he was ridiculous always, and they were probably ridiculous together, looking at each other like a besotted couple on their first date when they’d been together for over two years.
But then, she didn’t care. She’d found that with him, she didn’t mind being freaky, kinky, or ridiculous. With Spike, Buffy managed to be happy no matter what.
Originally posted at https://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/721630.html