Buffy update (Patreon)
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Willow fingered the pendant around her neck, a familiar tingle electrifying her pussy, even though she wasn’t touching Buffy. She’d gone to sleep almost afraid the whole thing would turn out to be a dream. But it wasn’t. Buffy truly was her slave.
Willow got out of bed, coming around to look at Buffy’s exposure. She smiled, looking at the sheer tightness of her holes, and her smile widened as she looked for hair and saw not one trace of it. Because of her. Because she hadn’t wanted her slave to have one hair below the neck.
And on Buffy’s labia were the dried fluid that proved what had happened last night. She’d fucked Buffy’s ass. She’d proved, in every way imaginable, that it belonged to her. That she not only could take it, but that she could make Buffy enjoy it. And now it was virginally tight again. Waiting for her to prove her dominance over once more.
Willow almost tried to resist. It was late, after all, they should be up by now. But why not? She wanted to fuck that Slayer ass. And Buffy was her property now. Not using her slave when she wanted to would be like an insult to Buffy. A message that she didn’t really want to be Buffy’s mistress. And she did. She really, really did.
Willow put the strap-on back on. There wasn’t much left of the butter, but it gave her dildo a nice shiny coating. Willow hoped Buffy appreciated all the comfort she gave her. A bad mistress would probably just shove it in. Not Willow. She wanted Buffy to enjoy being her slave, the same way she enjoyed being Buffy’s owner.
***
Buffy felt something cold touching her ass, the stress as she opened to it, the pressure as her ass didn’t want to let it in. She blinked rapidly, light flooding into her opened eyes, trying to remember where she was as Willow sodomized her. She lurched in her bonds, straining at them with fresh muscles, but nonetheless unable to pry herself loose. She screamed, she shouted, but the gag would only let out the most muffled sounds. So all Buffy could do, in the end, was to clench herself shut, even though that barely slowed the shaft that was pushing into her rectum.
The lengthy interlude since her last assfuck had left her unprepared for another. It felt more agonizing than ever, even though Willow was going slow. It reminded Buffy of a bandaid… instead of ripping it right off, Willow was painstakingly exploring Buffy’s resistance, as if seeking exactly how much force it took for the dildo to continue oh so slowly into Buffy’s rectum.
“Just get it over with!” Buffy screamed, though of course Willow couldn’t hear her. No one could hear her. Christ, why’d Willow’s dildo have to be so big? Why did her ass have to be so small? She could’ve sworn it wouldn’t fit, but she knew it would, just like it had before, she couldn’t keep Willow out even with the physical limitations of her body.
“Oh fuck yes!” Willow sighed, watching Buffy’s ass bounce as she struggled to take in the dildo, her sphincter almost visibly throbbing as it was forced around Willow’s dildo. It was enthralling, nearly soothing, in the way it was to watch something perfectly fit into its receptacle. This wasn’t quite a perfect fit, but that just made Willow love it more.
In the absence of physical sensation, she got off on slapping her hands on Buffy’s slender body, getting a good meaty grip, and then putting pressure on the dildo. A little at a time, just a little, and watching Buffy’s asshole not let it in, not let it in, not let it in, until the pressure was just a tidge too much for it. And then Willow fed some more of her cock into Buffy’s ass. Not a lot, not too much, no—she’d always stop and let Buffy really feel it, the way she was, then she’d tighten her grip and put the pressure on again. It kept taking less and less. She thought by the time she reached the base, Buffy’s hole would just be sucking her right in.
“It’s all in, Buff,” Willow whispered finally, grinding the dildo’s base right into Buffy’s ass. It was heavenly, feeling those splayed cheeks on her groin, just all opened up and letting her in. “You’re my anal whore again. Fuck, I’ve got to buy some of those beads, or one of those plugs—I wanna keep something in your ass for a while. Would you like that, Buffy? Going through the whole day knowing your butt’s mine and I’ve decided I don’t want it closed? Maybe not ever? Fuck, I would love that…”
Then there was a knock at the door. “Time to wake up, girls,” came Joyce’s voice.
***
For once in her life, Buffy didn’t know what the fuck she wanted. That was usually the first thing she knew. But Willow had fucked her so hard, occasionally even had her enjoy it… no, no, she wanted it to stop. She wanted her mom to find her and stop this.
But God, did it have to be while Willow was fucking her in the ass? Literally while Willow’s strap-on was inside her? If Joyce had just come in at night and gotten her out of this thing, she’d have been thrilled—but now… she didn’t want Joyce to see her like this. She didn’t want to be like this. And she didn’t know which was worse, having a cock in her ass or being seen with it in her ass.
***
Willow was shocked for a moment as well, but her eventual reaction was more brazen. She was Buffy’s mistress, the Slayer’s mistress. She couldn’t be weak. That wasn’t what Buffy wanted. Buffy wanted discipline, she craved it, that was why she had gone to all this trouble to gift herself to Willow. And what her girlfriend wanted, Willow decided, was what she would get.
Willow faked a loud yawn as she pumped her strap-on into Buffy, back and forth, even reaching around her to feel a nicely pregnant clit between her fingers. She fiddled with it. “I’m awake, Joyce!” she called.
“Good! I made some breakfast… so how’s it looking in there?”
“Looking?” Willow asked, shoving herself harder and faster into Buffy. Joyce could walk in at any moment. That made it so much hotter. She thought Buffy was about to come.
“Let me guess… clothes and snacks thrown all over? That’s why you’re not coming out yet?”
“We’ll come out soon enough,” Willow assured her, barely resisting the urge to slap Buffy’s heaving behind. Instead, she pinched Buffy’s clit and heard a muffled yell into the gag.
“Just make sure it’s cleaned up by the time I get home from work. I know you girls like having your fun, but you need to clean up after yourselves.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Summers. We’ll be very well-disciplined.” Willow really threw herself into Buffy’s ass, fucking it so hard she might as well have been spanking it. Buffy’s whole body was being slammed forward by her thrusts.
“Bye you two. I’ll be at the gallery if you need me.”
Don’t come, Buffy told herself, straining through the pain just to hope that Joyce wouldn’t come in and that she wouldn’t come, not when her mom was just outside the door, not from being fucked in the ass, she didn’t want it, she didn’t want any of it, she hated how it felt, she hated being Willow’s slut, she couldn’t let herself come, don’t come, don’t come, no matter how much you want to!
Willow heard Joyce going downstairs. She let go of Buffy’s clit, with one little slap to her pussy for good measure. “You should’ve come for me,” Willow said dangerously, “you know you would’ve liked it, coming right under your mom’s nose, coming from being fucked in the ass while she thinks you’re still a virgin or something. You could tell I wanted you to come, couldn’t you? Why else would I be fucking you in the ass? Well, fine, you won’t come. I will, because I’m your master, but you’re just going to have to take my cock in your ass. That’s what gets me off. I love fucking your ass so much, Buff. That’s why I’m going to enjoy this, even though I know you won’t get off on it.”
Willow grunted, her long dildo working deeper, rasping agonizingly over the limits of Buffy’s ass. The Slayer wailed and burst into tears, but Willow fucked harder, and the last crucial inch of her dildo vanished into Buffy’s shivering ass.
“Come on, slave, help me!” Willow yelled. “Make me come!”
She slapped Buffy’s sore asscheeks, making the blonde groan and jerk back at her as she fucked deeper into Buffy’s anus.
“Yeah, come on, whore! Bring me off! Make me come! Yes!” She gripped Buffy’s bonds and hauled her back, ramming her prick into Buffy’s ass until it was buried there. Willow gasped and yelled, pumping at Buffy, twisting her arms as she violated her ass, holding her to the strap-on. “Take it, whore!”
Buffy screamed, swearing she felt the strap-on swell with cum as Willow rammed her harder, slamming her dildo in to the hilt. Willow growled as her actual pussy slapped Buffy’s ass, riding the dildo into it; she could feel the strap-on throbbing deep inside Buffy, she could’ve sworn it.
Buffy felt her anus spasming, as Willow’s strap-on rasped into her ass and worked over her rectum. She moaned, clinging to whatever she could; sobbing in deep, horrible shame, as well as pain.
But there was a strange dark satisfaction to being fucked like this, hurt for another’s enjoyment. She sobbed, as her head spun again, and then leaped as Willow pulled herself out without so much as a word.
Buffy barely registered that it had happened just as the front door slammed behind Joyce.
“I think I’m getting better at this, Buff,” Willow said as she admired Buffy’s gape, taking off the harness without looking. She was getting better at those straps too. “The last time, I fucked you a lot longer but I didn’t leave your hole nearly so wide.” She slapped Buffy’s ass and enjoyed watching her snatch clench automatically. “Someday, all I’ll need to do is fuck you from behind, and then I’ll be able to fist you.”
Willow stripped off her pajama top as she headed for the bathroom.
Left there, Buffy’s anger burned. She couldn’t help but picture Willow under the shower spray as it ran—she could actually hear it sprinkling over Wills—washing off all the sweat and dirt and grime, becoming a new person almost, while she still felt the lube on her inner thighs, the stickiness in her ass, the dried cum that fragrantly coated her face. It’d almost be worth joining Willow in the shower, if she could just get clean. Stop being the person who’d experienced—even enjoyed—all that had happened last night…
Willow came out of the shower, wearing fresh clothes. Buffy guessed that if she could materialize all this S&M bullshit, a change of clothing was no problem. She gave Buffy’s nicely presented ass a greeting slap, then held onto it, almost moaning as she felt the vibrancy of the firm young flesh.
“Your turn!” Willow chimed, and after a momentary blink of her eyes, Buffy’s chains clicked open.
Buffy heaved herself off the bed to balance quite ungainly on her ballet boots; her posture collar was forcing her face up to the ceiling. Then her chin dropped down—the collar wasn’t there anymore, or it was, but it had shrunk down to its old thickness.
And the leather corset unlaced itself, prompting Buffy to take in a deep breath as it fell at her feet. The reminder of how constricted her body had been, even if her Slayer powers had compensated for the suffocating sensation, filled her with rage and she gave the corset a kick, though with her ballet boots, she only mustered enough force to knock it under the bed. There, Buffy saw that the chains remained in existence, just like her collar. They were all waiting to be used again.
Willow giggled at the sight. Buffy certainly was a feisty one. Oh, she hated the corset, she hated it so much, but just wait until it’d been a while since she came as hard as she did with it on. Then she’d be begging her mistress to put it back on her. Or, no, she was too proud for that—she’d put it on herself and then act as if it were a great big gift to Willow. Which it was, no doubt, but God, how much did Slayers and cats have in common?
Well, there was one thing they didn’t. Whoever heard of a cat being taken for a walk?
Willow commanded a sturdy chain to appear, one end in her hands, the other fastened to Buffy’s collar. With the leather pouch holding Buffy’s arms behind her back, the gag, the collar, and the ballet boots, Buffy looked like a picture from Willow’s deepest fantasies. There was only one thing missing. With a tug on the chain, Willow yanked Buffy down onto her knees.
“C’mon, Buff-Buff,” Willow teased. “Time for a bath!”
She pulled on Buffy’s chain, forcing her to shuffle on her knees to the bathroom, and when Buffy didn’t go fast enough, Willow took the opportunity to find out what Slayer healing would do to a strapping on Buffy’s ass. That was another perk of having a Slayer as a pet, errr, slave. Not only could Willow take Buffy’s anal virginity time and time again, but she could beat that perky ass as much as she wanted, and have it back, just as sensitive and white and jiggly as ever. Wouldn’t Buffy love that—never being able to get used to having her ass whipped, but having it be as good as the first time every time!
“Okay, Buff-Buff, into the bathtub,” Willow commanded, dispelling the ballet boots.
Buffy could’ve moaned in relief when she felt the damp chill of porcelain tiles under her flattened feet. The relief was immediate; she practically got a rush from flexing her toes, curling them under her, running through the full range of motion she hadn’t been able to accomplish while wearing the high heels from hell.
But then she felt her gag changing, becoming a ring to hold her mouth open again. Everything was blurry, a haze—she felt her arms drop free from their leather confines and thought she was getting free, even with her mouth gagged, even with a chain hanging beside the bathtub, bolted to the tiled wall. She didn’t even notice that it was connected to her collar now.
“What are you doing?” Buffy asked, or tried to ask, as she struggled to process just how circumstances had changed. Most of what she felt was a sedated curiosity for just what was happening to her, what was next, even as part of her screamed that she was free and should do something. But what?
Willow took her hands—the leather cuffs were still there, on her wrists and ankles and knees and elbows—and positioned her wrists so they were almost touching her nipples. For a small eternity, Buffy seemed to just stand there, wondering what was Willow doing, before she was startled by two small chains connecting her wrist cuffs to her collar. There was also a short chain between her ankles, hobbling her, and a flush went through her body, neither hot nor cold.
It wasn’t over.
She lunged at Willow, just trying to shake her, somehow signal that this was all a mistake, but the wall chain brought her up short. What’s worse, Willow laughed—mentally comparing Buffy to an angry kitten—and with her head thrown forward, Buffy could see that her pubic hair was totally missing. Fucking hell, Willow really had made her into a full-on sex slave!
A storm of garbled curses flew from Buffy’s mouth, surely enough to turn Willow’s face the same color as her hair, were she only to understand them. Not that she did.
“Are you asking how you’re going to clean yourself?” Willow asked, thinking she had heard something about hair in there. “Or are you asking to clean yourself? Because a slave doesn’t demand things of her master.” Willow’s face darkened. “Certainly not in that tone of voice.”
Giving Buffy a shove, Willow sent her over the edge of the bathtub, so she was bent over with her ass lovingly presented for—already Buffy felt the first slash of the leather strap on her. She cringed, struggling to find the words to beg Willow to stop, before giving up and just howling as Willow cut her ass to ribbons, or so it felt. Finally, Willow put her foot up on Buffy’s ass like Captain Morgan, and Buffy could’ve cried as she imagined the redhead standing triumphant over her like that. No one had ever subjected her to that indignity. Even in defeat, even when she’d gotten her ass full-on wrecked, she’d never been anyone’s property. But it was looking less and less likely that she could deny that was what she was. Willow’s slave. Willow’s bitch.
As dark as her thoughts were, Willow’s were considerably lighter. In fact, she smiled widely as she thought of a proper punishment for her slave, now that she’d calmed her down.
“Alright Buff,” Willow said, picking up Buffy’s toothbrush and toothpaste from the sink. “No more playtime. You really need to wash up. Now that you’re mine, you reflect on me. I’d be a pretty bad mistress if I let you go around all stinky and dirty. No, I want you looking even better than you did before! Lots of pretty clothes, very well-rested, well-fed...” She reached out her free hand to run lovingly through Buffy’s hair. Buffy already had a great mom, but there was only so much Joyce could do. “I’m going to take such good care of you.”
Willow put the items in Buffy’s shower tray—wondering if this counted as being Buffy’s daddy.
She turned the water on, and Buffy started as it hit her, warm and—good, really, very good even on her injured buttocks. Willow had found the perfect temperature for it. Buffy reached up and felt her hair before her bonds dragged painfully on her breasts, then reached down in some vestigial urge to cover herself and realized she couldn’t reach her sex.
“Use your head, Buff,” Willow encouraged, as if calling to a small dog. “You’re such a smart girl, c’mon…”
It took some doing, but Buffy was able to stand on her tiptoes and use her head to move the showerhead. Then she positioned herself at the far side of the tub and bent awkwardly so that spray of water blissfully hit her sex, washing away the lingering pollution of her slavery to Willow.
“Good girl,” Willow praised, cheery and pleasant. “See, I don’t want you touching yourself today. That’s a privilege you have to earn.”
Buffy swallowed her outrage and thought that, since she had no real chance of getting through to Willow yet, she could at least get clean. She didn’t think she could stand another second of being so… soiled.
“Eeth!” she said.
Willow sighed, even if she did appreciate Buffy thinking of oral hygiene. After all, one of Willow’s favorite qualities in her was Buffy’s smile. “That’s what the ring gag is for, Buff,” Willow said, fond annoyance in her voice. Gosh, she thought, Buffy really does need a helping hand.
Willow turned to leave, as Buffy tried to think of anything else with her tired, overstimulated brain. Part of her wanted to take the chance to really, thoroughly get clean, and tried to think of anything else that she’d need, while another desperately wanted any opportunity to get free. The solution came to her suddenly: “Pee!” she said, though it came out more like a stretched E than anything else.
Seeing Willow turn around, it occurred to her that she might not take to kindly to the escape attempt, low-key as it was. But if Willow just freed her hands…
But Willow was just staring at her, face blank with confusion. C’mon, Wills, you’re the smart one! Buffy mimed hopping in place, raising one foot in cringing discomfort, squeezing her thighs together desperately.
And though Willow got the message early on, she couldn’t help watching Buffy do her little dance a while. It wasn’t so much sexy as it was just ridiculously cute. And sexy. Buffy was pretty much naked, after all.
“Do you have to pee?” Willow asked, and Buffy nodded as hard as she could.
Willow sat down on the toilet.
“Go ahead then. You are in the shower.”
Buffy stared at her, horrified. Lesbianism was one thing, but since was Willow—since when was she into that! She fidgeted, cringing before Willow’s eyes, the suggestion Willow had made only reminding her of how naked she was, and not just then, but all through the night. Willow had seen her gaping ass, her open pussy, and not only that, but she’d made Buffy look at her naked. Taste her naked.
Buffy turned away, just trying to lose herself in the warm rush of the water. The thought hit her that not only was Willow smart, but she was too smart for her.
“Did you lie to your Mistress?”
When Buffy turned around, Willow had a vicious expression to match her furious voice. She grabbed Buffy by the hair, yanking them face to face, and for a moment, Buffy saw her terror-stricken expression reflected in eyes that were pure black.
When Willow blinked, the darkness was gone. “If you lied,” she said, spitting each word, “I’ll take you back to your room. I’ll strap you down and spend the rest of the day whipping your ass. By the time I’m done, even you won’t be enjoying yourself!”
As if Buffy’s mind were controlled by Willow too, Buffy saw more than that. She pictured her strapped in as she had been, on display as she had been, and she knew that Willow wouldn’t stop at spanking. As if that weren’t bad enough, she’d see Buffy’s asshole, displayed like some prize possession, and she’d fuck Buffy. She’d fuck Buffy in the ass.
Tears gathered in Buffy’s eyes. She couldn’t do that. Not again. Not when there was—any other way.
“I didn’t lie,” she tried to pronounce through her limp lips, and she let her bladder go. She tried to look anywhere but at Willow, even as the warm feeling running down her legs reminded her of Willow’s heated touch, and the marks left by her whip. But she could feel Willow’s intent satisfaction, at having cowed Buffy so utterly that she’d obey even a command such as that. Willow seemed to relish her humiliation and her obedience in equal measure, her lustful gaze stabbing in Buffy’s groin as her degrading submission continued, drop by burning drop.
Finally, Buffy was empty, and the water washed it away and it was like it had never happened. Buffy could feel the sensation fading. All but the feel of Willow’s eyes on her. She’d never forget the way Willow had looked at her.
Willow leaned in and kissed Buffy’s cheek, then shrieked as the shower stream hit her face and she pulled herself back. “Eee! Okay! Whatever! I’m so glad you weren’t lying, Buff. Punishing you can be fun, but I’d much rather you be a good girl. I can do all kinds of nice things for you when you’re a good girl, and give you all sorts of rewards like… eating my ass and tasting my pussy… did you like peeing in front of me? Was that what you wanted? We can do it again, if you’re a good girl. Just don’t ever lie to me. It’s so disrespectful, and this is not going to be a disrespectful relationship. You respect me as your mistress and I’ll respect you as…” Grinning, Willow reached out a hand, plucked out a wet strand of Buffy’s hair, and looped it around her finger. “My sexy, delicious, amazing, incredible little Slayer ho! Who really is a good girl, most of the time, now that she’s getting into the swing of things.”
Willow let go of Buffy’s hair, letting it run through her fingers, and looked Buffy up and down again. “Now clean yourself up. I’ll be back soon and I want you ready by then. And we’re in California, dum-dum, we can’t waste water!”
Miserably, shaking with emotions so big they crowded into each other and refused to be discernible, Buffy commenced washing herself. She couldn’t wash her legs, except by sudsing her belly and letting the soapy water run down her lower body, but at least she could scrub at some of where Willow had touched her. Most importantly, almost blessedly, she could rinse her face. Doing that, Buffy thought she could almost wash away all of herself. Be a whole new her. And she wanted to.
She had no idea that within an hour’s time, she would finally be able to tell Willow what a mistake she had made.