Buffy update (Patreon)

Buffy stiffened as she felt her mother’s hands, as gentle to the touch as ever, now caressing her ass. As she lay there, helplessly still, the familiar sensation of her own cajoled arousal returned to her. She felt Joyce gently rubbing up and down her ass, soft hands gliding up to her lower back, then sliding down to cup the tender undersides of her buttocks. Pressing more firmly, Joyce massaged Buffy in strong circles, flattening and releasing Buffy’s taut asscheeks. Buffy was wincing. First one cheek, then the other was tingling in a way she’d never experienced. Gradually, she relaxed, unable to stop herself from enjoying it. Joyce’s hands moved back and forth from cheek to cheek, lightly rolling into the vale between buttocks as they crossed.

Joyce knew she had Buffy hooked as soon as she felt the tension leave her incredible muscles. She stared hard in between Buffy’s cheeks as she continued her massage. Each time she ran her hands from side to side, she applied enough pressure to open up the pert buttocks and examine the asshole, looking so soft and tender, and tight. Joyce could see and smell Buffy’s arousal, trickling down between her thighs. She could hardly hold herself back from dropping to her knees and tasting it.

Buffy could feel even the most gentle action of the room’s air conditioning between her buttocks as Joyce opened up her asscrack, the breeze caressing her sensitive anus. She was shockingly aware of her tender sex getting more tender. The aroma of her own arousal was so overpowering that she could smell nothing else. She was ashamed of herself for being so turned on, and her shame overwhelmed her composure. Tears filled her eyes and fell to the bed. She could only tell herself not to blame Joyce, that it was all Willow’s fault. And that it didn’t truly feel that good.

Joyce knew from experience just how good a loving touch in a taboo place could be. She was delighted to hear a moan escape from Buffy’s lips, confirming just how aroused she was. It was only now that she could make her move.

Buffy’s whole body was tingling maddeningly. She couldn’t stop herself from wanting to be rubbed and stroked and caressed. She wanted, needed to be alone and to finger herself until she came. That’s what she would’ve done if she were just aroused before Willow had enslaved her. Now, though, she was trapped, trapped with the feeling of Joyce’s hand sliding between her buttocks. And it felt so good that she couldn’t suppress a loving sigh.

Fingers lightly traced deeper and deeper into Buffy’s valley. Touching the taut flesh in between, they slid toward her asshole. Buffy felt herself quiver, but for what reason she couldn’t tell. Involuntarily, her anus twitched as Joyce’s fingers neared it. As Joyce reached her asshole, though, she began circling around the opening instead of breaching it. Her fingers delicately spiraled around in a gentle, but firm massage. She made Buffy want the fingers to go ahead and touch her asshole, but they didn’t. After a few teasing orbits, they kept going down.

And then, all of a sudden, a finger was inside Buffy’s ass. Buffy gasped in surprise—the discomfort was extraordinary—then a second one was forced in. She felt a mad, pulsing satisfaction burst into her pussy, almost orgasmic in its intensity. She was finally, really being touched. A third finger truly stretched her. Buffy could feel what passed for her anal virginity being taken away, as her mother ass-fucked her, there was no doubt in her mind, she’d been fucked in the ass by three fingers.

“This is amazingly tight,” Joyce said. “And you say you’ve given her a dildo here?”

Willow nodded excitedly. “I really had to break her in.”

Joyce was careful not to fully sink her fingers into Buffy’s rectum. “The way her ass is choking my fingers, I wouldn’t believe that she’s had so much as a pen between her cheeks.”

Hearing Joyce convey her amazement to Willow, Buffy was happy to notice a slight mocking in Joyce’s tone. She smiled, small and watery. They’d managed to dupe Willow; Joyce already knew all about her ass and the virginal effects of her Slayer healing. Buffy took what solace she could in the small victory.

“Go get some moist wipes,” Joyce told Willow. “They’re in Buffy’s make-up closet.”

As Willow hurried to attend the older woman, Joyce leaned forward. It looked as if she was just adjusting her position, but as her fingers went even deeper into Buffy’s tight ass, her mouth neared Buffy’s ear. “Shh, honey,” she whispered, her soft words almost lost in Buffy’s ragged breathing and muted sobs. “Remember the plan. For it to work, Willow needs to trust me. I can head off other things, but this was the perfect opportunity…”

“Found it!” Willow said.

Joyce straightened up again, noting that Buffy was keeping her ass spread. With a giggle, Willow held one wipe out to Joyce. “Wow, Mrs. Summers, you really are in to the hilt.”

“What can I say, Willow?” Joyce asked, shrugging with a slight smile. “You were right, Buffy’s ass is amazing.” She began to slowly pull her fingers free. “So tight, so warm…”

Willow smiled as she saw the slight gape Joyce left behind. “That’s a good girl. Keep that ass spread, Buff,” she said, as Joyce took the wipe and cleaned her fingers off.

Next, she made Buffy dress the puppet in the outfit from Saturday. With every piece of clothing she put on this mocking facsimile of herself—just what Willow saw her as, some kind of sex toy for her fun and games—she felt a raging fire of jealousy burn hotter in her heart. Once, she’d be wearing these beautiful, fashionable clothes. Instead, she was stark naked, bare and exposed to not just her cruel mistress’s eyes, but her own mother. And instead of covering herself, an inanimate object got to wear her clothes. It was a straw to break the camel’s back, but Buffy was able to take some comfort in the succor her mother had offered. She restrained herself to caressing each piece lovingly as it went onto the puppet’s false body. Once Joyce managed to get her away from Willow’s control, she would put those clothes back on and never take them off again.

When she was finished, Willow gave Buffy’s work a quick going over. She was ready to find some imaginary fault as an excuse to punish Buffy, but a comforting squeeze on her shoulder interrupted her. “It all seems to be in order,” Joyce said, mouthing ‘wait’ to make up for bursting Willow’s bubble.

Willow nodded, resigned but accepting of Joyce’s play.

Buffy breathed easier, knowing that her mom had just helped her dodge some real problems sitting down in the future. She sent a mental ‘thank you’ to Joyce.

“Buffy,” Willow said, “I want you to put the puppet close to the wall next to the head of your bed. Keep it there and hold it upright.”

Buffy did as she was told.

Willow shut her eyes, concentrating, and the pendant glowed again. A flat, round structure formed under the puppet’s feet. Growing out of it was a small pole going behind the puppet’s back. Two small holders spread from the vertical pole, ending in two open circles. 

“Arms through the holes,” Willow ordered. “We want it to stand upright without any help. And see if you can improve its pose. I want the stance to look more… natural.”

Standing next to the spanking rack at the foot of Buffy’s bed, Joyce pursed her lips in distaste. She’d overlooked something in her talk with Willow, but it could be easily rectified. Lightly pulling on Willow’s hand, she directed her attention to the chains that limply hung from the bars. Willow looked questioningly at Joyce, who took one chain and showed its end to Willow, pointing to the small hook and then to Buffy.

Willow’s eyes widened as she understood. Now that they’d done away with Buffy’s leather cuffs, those chains were useless. Willow pursed her lips, thinking of what to do, but Joyce drew her out of her thoughts with a quick tap on her shoulder. Joyce pointed at her belt, then to the chain. She mimicked the opening and closing of a buckle while her hands drew a circle.

Willow smiled and nodded, showing Joyce she understood. She cleared her throat. “Buffy, come here,” she called out.

Buffy nervously turned around. “Yes, Willow.” She went to stand in front of Willow, the spanking rack visible out of the corner of her eye. Just looking at it, her asshole clenched involuntarily, remembering all she’d been through at Willow’s hands in that thing.

Then panic filled Buffy as she saw Willow’s pendant glow, an invisible force tugging on her limbs and joints. She let out a small cry of fright, and only the sight of her mother’s consoling smile helped her keep her wits about her. As she was magically pulled into position, Buffy forced herself to regain her calm.

Joyce looked on in fascination as her daughter was bound to the spanking rack. Buffy’s legs were strapped to it, the chains transforming into straps. Buffy’s elbows were bound together behind her upper back, joined in a constricting leather pouch. A thin collar formed around Buffy’s neck, a small ring in front that connected to the middle of the chain around the bed, anchoring Buffy’s head in place just like the posture collar had.

Buffy felt the straps biting into her skin as she was anchored in place. It felt different than before; they went around her upper thighs, just below her knees, and on her ankles. Soon she was back on her tippy toes, her legs spread wide, her ass high, and her face down. 

Then, a motherly touch on her bare back. “Willow, I think you forgot a zipper,” Joyce said, indicating the leather pouch holding Buffy’s arms in place.

“My bad!” Willow laughed. “I’m just so used to magic…” 

A small glow and then a zipper and some buckles appeared on the leather pouch. Buffy hissed in discomfort as her arms were compressed even tighter.

Behind Buffy, Joyce inspected the straps. She opened up a buckle, only to tighten it down again—even harder than before. She pulled all of them a notch tighter, making the leather bite into her daughter’s flesh.

Willow whistled, impressed. “Wow, Joyce, I didn’t think that was possible.”

Joyce smiled and patted Willow on the shoulder. “Like I said, Willow. You still have much to learn.”

Buffy just groaned quietly as her mother continued to tighten the straps. She knew Joyce had no other choice but to convince Willow she was okay with everything, but God, this was almost worse than when it had just been Willow on her own!

Joyce finished and stood up again. “It’s much nicer with the straps, don’t you think Willow?”

Willow did, wholeheartedly, but distracted by Buffy’s inviting ass, she didn’t hear the question.

Which was a capital idea, as far as Joyce was concerned. Reaching into her pocket, she took out a pair of earplugs. Buffy started as she felt them go into her ears, instantly muffling her hearing.

“Are you sure earplugs will work on her?” Willow asked. “She does have Slayer senses.”

“Yes, but not that acute,” Joyce said. “I asked Mr. Giles about Buffy’s powers. She can discern sound very sharply, but if something prevents the sound from reaching her in the first place, then hearing it anyway would be like her using her great eyesight to see through walls. It just wouldn’t be physically possible.”

“So you’re definitely sure?” Willow asked again.

Joyce raised her voice. “Buffy, honey, I’m going to borrow Willow’s strap-on and fuck you up the ass. Just say no if you don’t want me to.”

“Uh… Mom? Willow?” Buffy called tentatively. Although she could move her head left and right, she couldn’t look behind her. She knew her mom and Willow were talking, but had no idea what they were saying. Her apprehension doubled as she realized she now had no way of knowing what was going on behind her naked, vulnerable ass.

Willow clapped her hands joyfully, amazed that Joyce had been proven right.

“Research, Willow,” Joyce said.

They stood there, waiting for Buffy to quiet down, but she kept calling out to them, as if worried they weren’t there—or that her punishment had stopped.

“I thought she might get it,” Joyce sighed.

Willow shrugged. “It’s Buffy. Uh, sorry, Joyce, I mean…”

Joyce waved off her politeness. “She’s my daughter, but even I’m aware that she’s not the brightest bulb in the chandelier.” Joyce pointed to Buffy’s naked ass, miming a swat. “May I?” she asked.

Willow smiled. “Be my guest.”

Joyce brought her hand down on Buffy’s buttocks with a crash, walloping it so hard that Buffy’s hips jerked forward. Buffy cried and struggled inside the rack, but Joyce ignored it as she continued whacking her ass.

“Ow! Owwwww!” Buffy wailed, feeling her buttocks being lashed over and over again. “Stop! It hurts! Please!”

Joyce paid no attention to her daughter’s pleas either. Beating her ass, she let her eyes wander over Buffy’s twisting body and the smooth skin of her thrashing legs as she instinctively tried to break free. 

“No more!” Buffy gasped. “Please! Not in front of my—“

Joyce smacked her hand into Buffy’s bare flesh, the firework sound of her blows echoing in the bedroom. She it again and again, turning the already pink flesh into a hotly glowing red.

“Owwww! Buffy screamed as she thrashed about impotently in her restraints. Her ass burned as she twisted her hips. “I’ll be good! Don’t spank me again! Don’t!”

Joyce stopped and stepped away, leaving Buffy breathing hard, her bare breasts rising and falling with each pained breath. Her ass was still giggling with Buffy’s struggles, making it look impossibly like Joyce’s last blow had just been struck, long after she’d landed it. 

“Would you like to try your luck, Willow?” Joyce asked.

Willow barely needed to be asked. Her hand swept across Buffy’s reddened, jiggling ass with a resounding smack that filled the room.

Willow laughed. “Did you hear that, Joyce?”

“Oh yes,” Joyce nodded happily. “Very nice technique.”

Beaming with Joyce’s approval, Willow’s hand came back down on Buffy’s firm ass. And again, over and over, until Buffy was sobbing and her ass was so sore it was burning.

“Try rubbing it,” Joyce suggested. “Just like a little pain can spike pleasure, there’s nothing like some pleasure in the middle of pain to really break a girl down.”

Willow gladly followed Joyce’s advice, rubbing Buffy’s aching ass, soothing her until her fingers were dipping between the cheeks, pressing in against Buffy’s sex. She pushed her index finger right into Buffy, making her squirm with surprise, shame, and satisfaction. 

“Ohhhh!” Buffy cried. “Oh, oh please… please just stop…”

Willow smiled at Joyce, who was watching intently. “Enjoying yourself?” Willow asked. “It must be a real pretty sight, Buffy getting her ass beaten and now having her pussy stuffed.”

Joyce’s eyes were riveted to Buffy’s ass as it flushed back to pinkness, and the fingers inserted into her cunt, but her lips were set in a thin line. “Don’t give her too much fun now. She’s a slave, remember. She’s here to please you. And right now, what pleases you is spanking that ass bright red again.”

Willow nodded, a sick smile on her cute features. Her fingers still wet with Buffy’s juices, she smacked her open hand against the smooth, tender flesh of the Slayer’s ass. Now completely unprepared for the pain, Buffy cried out in whimpering agony, the blows stinging terribly, the pleasure Willow had given her still perversely lingering in her aroused cunt, shaking with the hurt of her spanking. 

“Willow,” Joyce asked, sensing that Buffy was enjoying this a bit too much, “did you bring that leather strap you used on Buffy last Friday?”

“Of course!”

“Let me see it. I have one or two pointers for you there as well.”

Willow left Buffy almost literally hanging, going to get the strap out of her bag. She delivered it reverently to Joyce, who wrapped it around her hand.

“Good workmanship,” Joyce appraised. “A very good choice, Willow. How do you use it?”

“I just whip Buffy’s ass with it,” Willow said. “I try not to follow a set rhythm, I keep Buffy guessing when the next hit will come…”

“Very good, very good,” Joyce said. “But have you considered you don’t have to whip her ass at all? She is the Slayer after all. Her ass will be back to lily-white in no time. Doesn’t that open up some intriguing possibilities for the rest of her… delicious body?” 

That said, she brought the strap up between Buffy’s splayed legs, right into her pussy.

“Ahhhhh!” Buffy yelled at the top of her lungs. She thought she was going to lose her mind as her entire body jerked with the agony ripping through it.

Joyce swung the strap into Buffy’s tender pussy again.

“No!” Buffy cried, tears of pain running down her cheeks as her resolve broke. Again, Joyce brought the strap savagely across Buffy’s aching mound. “Oh God!”

Now Joyce really got into it, whipping Buffy’s cunt harder and harder. She was striking Buffy so savagely that the Slayer’s body jerked violently each time, the heavy bed she was strapped to actually scooting around with Buffy’s pained twinges. Then Joyce raised the aim of her strap, bringing it across Buffy’s flushed pink asscheeks, first one, then the other. After the pain she’d felt on her pussy, being hit in the ass was like an entirely new kind of pain for the Slayer.

“Oww! Christ! It hurts so fucking much!” Buffy sobbed.

“Oh, Buffy, I wish you’d watch your language,” Joyce said, knowing Buffy couldn’t hear her. Willow, however, cackled at the joke.

Joyce shifted again, whipping the backs of Buffy’s sensitive thighs just as hard as she could. “Remember to change up where you’re landing your hits,” she said to Willow. “What’s the good of not having a rhythm if your slave just gets used to having her ass beaten?”

To prove her point, Joyce brought her strap up lengthwise over Buffy’s slit again, hard and then harder, stinging the tip of it into Buffy’s clit and slashing into her wet labia, turning her whole lap into a blistering sea of hot pain.

And yet, each time the strap touched her, Buffy could feel her pussy growing wetter. She could even feel droplets of her juices splashing onto her thighs. The pain from the whipping blended with a lust that persisted inside her like a sickness and they mingled lewdly, making her almost enjoy her torment—not pain, not pleasure, but a hot, pounding pressure inside her that somehow promised release.

Joyce was whipping her daughter more slowly now, each stroke careful and deliberate and savored by the hand holding the strap. Joyce aimed for Buffy’s cunt, slashed her arm, and brought each stroke down even harder than the last.

“And when you’re ready to finish her off,” Joyce said leadingly. She placed her fingers on either side of Buffy’s sex, spreading it wide open. Buffy groaned as she felt herself opening up, and something of the hungry stare both Willow and Joyce were giving her cunt.

With a harshness in her breath, Joyce wrapped the strap around her hand more, until only a few inches of its length remained free. When she whipped it, it virtually went inside Buffy’s pussy.

Buffy couldn’t believe her body: it hurt like hell and it was a blast of incredible sensation that left her trembling with pleasure, excitement. She was in more pain than she’d ever been in in her life and she was more turned on as well. She could feel her little clit throbbing violently from the pain, even as she grew wet with a warm ecstasy that filled her clit and rose up into her belly. She could feel the folds of her pussy swelling, filling with pounding blood, and her slick juices flowing freely down her thigh.

“Now you try,” Joyce said, holding out the strap to Willow. Buffy’s very sexual pleasure dripped from it.

Willow whipped Buffy’s pussy over and over again, careful to avoid Joyce’s fingers as Buffy’s own mother held her sex open for the wide leather strap out. Buffy cried out, not so much in pain or in pleasure as in cathartic release as she felt the cruel leather strike pleasure along her pussy and into her, inside her, deep within her. Her clit was glowing hotly. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, a blazed that had begun in her ass and thighs, but now was everywhere connected to her cunt.

Again and again Willow swung her arm, not letting up on Buffy’s helplessly exposed sex for an instant.

“Ohh, God, Willow!” Buffy whimpered, feeling overcome with need: a need to come, a need for the pain to stop, and more needs, secret needs she couldn’t even acknowledge, her mind was burning too hot.

She felt as if she were losing all control. All that remained was the thrill inside her, the pleasure melting like ice from her clit, and the burning pain she felt all through her body. She could’ve exploded at any seconds with all the sensations and emotions and desires crowding inside her.

“Y-yes! No! No, wait, just a—don’t stop!” she screeched, absurdly wanting to get a handle on just what she felt more than she wanted either a stop or a release. She had the sudden thought that she could not handle much more of this exquisite torture without being lost to it.

She wanted the punishing belt to stop striking her. But she wanted Willow to keep going, too. She was so confused she barely knew her own name anymore. Again and again, the strap came down on Buffy’s cunt and clit. She was groaning, a purely physical response—she didn’t know what she was feeling. In desperation, she started to count the swats she was receiving, not knowing what else to do. “Wuh-one! Two! Three! Four!”

Now Joyce’s disapproval radiated at Buffy, even if it was hard for her to object to that jiggling pink bottom. “I better give that daughter of mine a clue. Heaven knows Willow will get tired before she wises up.”

Signaling Willow to keep going, she went to the front of the bed and leaned into Buffy’s sight. She put a finger to her lips, and when Buffy opened her mouth to speak anyway, Joyce more emphatically tapped her lips with her forefinger. Buffy got the idea and kept her mouth shut, enduring a withering series of blows between her thighs before Willow stopped.

“Finally, she gets it. Sometimes I don’t know how she managed to graduate,” Joyce said to Willow, while giving a reassuring look to Buffy’s teary face. “I think I have you to thank for that.”

She saw Buffy mouth a silent ‘thank you’ to her, thinking that it was only Willow who had spanked her and that Joyce had managed to stop it. Well, let her think that. It would be comforting to her, thinking that mommy would protect her.

Willow giggled, soaking up another of Joyce’s compliments. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure, Joyce. I blame the Hellmouth.”

They both laughed and left Buffy’s room, their voices becoming more distant to Buffy as they went downstairs. Soon she heard nothing. Sniffling, her ass on fire and her pussy flooded, Buffy turned to look longingly at the doll that stood against the wall right where she could see it, dressed in the clothes that had once been hers.