SUMMARY: Okay, this just hit me this morning. I had to write it. I just had to. It is a PWP. Please, do not look for a plot in here. There's not even lead-up to the sex. It's just sex. This is also meant to be extremely tongue-in-cheek. Please, don’t take this fic seriously; it’s just a bit of fun. That's it. Well, for those adventurous few...
TIMELINE: It doesn’t really matter. This is smut and nothing but, choose your own timeline. In case you’re interested, I see this happening sometime post-chosen.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Buffyverse, or any other verses of which I’m aware. Buffy and Giles are not mine. If you happen to read this fic, you’ll discover I do own a perverted and some-what scary mind, which is, sadly, my only possession (well, that, and my poor, broken laptop). No infringement intended.
WARNINGS: *evil laugh* I no longer know what is something to warn about and what isn’t. This is a tale of two people making love. It’s consensual sex, some people may think it’s kinky, some might think it’s vanilla, it’s all a matter of taste. To that end, contains some BDSM, slight D/s interaction also menstrual bloodplay. This is also meant to be extremely tongue-in-cheek. Please, don’t take this fic seriously; it’s just a bit of fun. That's it. Well, for those adventurous few...
DEDICATION: To phendog who dedicates all her stuff to me, so I suppose I’m obligated to return the favour :D She was also there for me, answering my questions, giving me reassurance, and just generally being a world of help throughout the whole 3 hours it took to write this. Thanks! Also, to katekat, who jump-started my muse, tho’ perhaps not in any way we’d imagined.
BETA: Thank you to Phen, who gave me an uber-fast beta with wonderful suggestions. She now knows just how much I don't know my grammar. Thanks also to supermom20 for giving me instant blow-by-blow notifications of my mistakes. And to katekat, thank you so much for your beta and for taking care of my pro-noun mistakes, who would have thought that getting "his," "hers," and "you" straight would be a big problem? It's people like you who inflict smut like this on the masses. *evil grin*
FEEDBACK: You've read this?! Give me a heart attack by letting me know! I'd be very-much delighted. Constructive criticism more than welcome, as this is my first fic, I need to know what does and does not work.
DISTRIBUTION: GRB, WatcherGirls, ODD, www.buffygiles.com/efiction Anyone else just ask and send me a link!
Buffy awoke. In chains. With a quick glance down, she also discovered that she was wearing nothing in the way of clothes. “Giles? Please say this is you. Please?” Buffy knew she sounded perhaps a bit whiny, but she was the slayer, and there were, at any given time, literally thousands—maybe more—people willing to do her harm.
“Don’t worry, love, it’s me. Just felt like a bit of fun this morning.” Oh shit, that accent. She was in for some serious trouble. And some of the best damn sex of her life. Her skin immediately broke-out in goose-flesh. She gazed to the side of the bed from which his voice came. There he stood, in skin-tight black leather pants and nothing else, save a gold hoop earring in his left ear, she couldn’t hold in her whimper.
“Giles? I realize this is one of my fantasies, but…umm…it’smyperiod.”
“Pardon? And for further reference, Buffy, I’m only allowing you to speak out of turn just this once. All other times, you will be punished,” Giles said as he stroked, almost lovingly, a cat-o’nine-tails. Buffy groaned in pleasure, frustration, fear, her mind unable to separate the three.
“It’s. My. Period,” she ground out. Oh god, she trusted him in every way imaginable; hence why each wrist and each ankle was currently chained to a different corner of their bed. Why on earth did she find telling him she was menstruating embarrassing? Ugh. She’d just chalk it up to chauvinist social teachings and leave it that.
“I know, Buffy, we talked about this. About how we both find blood-play to be erotic. This is a way for us to enjoy it with no pain—well, pain that’s not also pleasure.” The glint in his eye was pure evil. He stalked... stalked over to the foot of their bed and slowly, so slowly it was agonizing in its pleasure, pulled out the tampon she had inserted just before they had gone to bed last night.
Buffy couldn’t help herself, “Oh god, Giles!” Yes, tampon removal had always been…enjoyable, but it had never been toe-curling, fist-clenching erotic before. Then again, she’d never before had a Giles softly swishing the flogger across her thighs while he removed her used tampon, either.
“Well, well, Miss Summers, enjoy that, did we?” He dipped one long finger into the mixture of blood and preparatory juices pooling at the opening of her vagina. “I’ll imagine you taste positively delightful, my love,” he stated just before languorously slipping his finger into his mouth. Buffy’s groan mixed with Giles’. Good god! The man looked hot giving head to his finger. Buffy had a swift thought of perhaps inviting another male to share their bed—if only for an evening—until Giles’ finger was again stroking her oh-so-aroused cunt. Then all thought was gone.
“Perhaps you’d like a taste?” Hmm? Was Giles saying something? She couldn’t really tell, but, from the look he gave her and the way he held the flogger, she thought maybe the best answer was...
“Yes?” *smack!* Buffy saw stars and felt another gush of fluid well up in her pussy. Several seconds passed before she realized what had happened. He’d hit her with the cat. Not hard, just enough to excite her inner-Slayer come out and play.
He merely raised an eyebrow at her question. “Do you care to answer my question again? Perhaps this time with a bit more conviction. Would you like to suck your pussy juices?” All the while, he was stroking her inner thighs, a lone finger teasing her clit, drawing out more of her vaginal juices than she thought possible. At this moment, she wanted to do nothing more than taste her blood and juices off his finger.
“Oh god, YES!” she all but moaned. Giles’ grin grew uncharacteristically wide at her willingness. Upon receiving his finger to her lips, she opened her mouth, devouring the fluids and the pure Giles flavour of his skin greedily. Yes, she was a Slayer. Yes, she was supposed to thwart vampires from running this land, but god strike her down if she didn’t like the taste of blood as well. Her blood. At that moment, she gained more empathy than she ever thought possible with the very creatures she was called upon to stake. “More…” was her breathless reply.
*Whap!* Yet another strike from the cat. If it wasn’t so thrilling in its pain, she’d be slightly pissy. He was deriving too much enjoyment from this.
“What did I say about speaking out of turn?”
This time she spoke with force, “but I want more, Giles.” Buffy was nothing if not a woman who knew her desires—at least when she was in bed with Giles.
He smacked her with the flogger again, this time one of the whips of leather barely grazing her quivering cunt. She screamed out in frustration. If she didn’t get some serious direct pressure on her clit soon, no chains in the world could stop her.
“That wasn’t what I asked you, young lady.” Giles’ voice was cool, his eyebrow quirked. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Buffy’s tone affected a false sympathy, “I’m sorry, daddy.”
And there it was again, the sharp, hot sting of leather being smack on her thighs. She knew it was probably wrong to goad him so, but it felt so damn good.
“Last I checked, I wasn’t your father.” She loved that smooth, barely contained voice of his. She loved the two fingers he slickly shoved in her quim even more.
“No, no you’re really not, Giles.” Her blue eyes did their best to convey her love and respect for the man standing, in very tight leather pants, sporting a very large erection, between her spread legs.
Buffy smiled internally as Dom Giles faded into her Giles, his love for her shining through every pore. She knew the instant the Dominator was back. “I’m still waiting for my answer.” He slowly dragged the flagellant up her thigh and through her light brown curls, as, without her noticing it, he raised it slightly. She did, however, notice when he smacked the cat on her outter labia. She was barely holding back an orgasm and he wanted her to sift through the last few minutes to remember what the FUCK it was she was supposed to answer? Being the Slayer had many advantages, instant recall was NOT one of them. Perhaps if she pouted and said “sorry” pitifully enough, she’d be let off the hook.
“Good girl.” Inside, Buffy gloated. Works like a charm, she thought.
Buffy noticed Giles put aside the cat-o’nine-tails with both relief and a bit of longing. While she enjoyed the sparks it afforded, Giles rarely got to the “good stuff” when using it. It also meant she could be an active participant—well, as active as one could be with every limb chained to a bedpost. Besides, neither of them did very well as either the submissive or the Dominant.
“God, but you are amazing, Buffy.” Giles, working around the manacles, stroked Buffy’s foot and ankle, and, with barely a look in her direction, started nibbling her big toe. Buffy’s moan ricocheted around her brain for several eons, seconds, before releasing it to the public, or, in this case, Giles. She loved how he sucked on her toes, drawing his tongue around each individual toe, delving the strong muscle into the gaps between, then back to the toe where he carefully mixed hot mouth and strong tongue with just a hint of tooth. Buffy was writhing on the bed, soaking their sheets in sweat, blood, and vaginal fluids. She’d never been so aroused in her life. While Giles worked her other foot with his mouth, he firmly massaged her sated foot.
“Fuckin’ beautiful.” Was that meant for her ears, or was it merely one of his own thoughts escaping? Buffy didn’t know, didn’t care; he was currently up to her outer thighs, working his way in. When they’d first begun their relationship, Giles had paid ample attention to her bosom, yet they soon discovered that Buffy could do without a great deal of attention to her breasts...just make sure her feet got their Giles time!
It was soon evident that, while being chained up was fun, it wasn’t conducive to many of the things they wanted to do. With a rueful grin from Giles, Buffy found her legs being released from their confines. Buffy loved the looks of admiration she was getting from Giles; he kept glancing from her eyes to the nest of curls between her legs, his eyes cloudy with desire. Slowly, so slowly, he crawled on the bed, spreading her legs as he went. She wanted to giggle at the predatory glean he was sporting in his jade green eyes, the amber blotch seeming to disappear from dilation of his pupils.
All giggles left the vicinity when his finger began stroking her. “Buffy, you’re amazing, so smooth. God I can’t wait to bury my cock inside your tight pussy.” Two fingers began pumping into her, his thumb giving her clitoris needed stimulation. “Would you like that, Buffy?”
“You know I would,” she gritted through clenched teeth.
“But perhaps I’ll take a taste. I didn’t get enough last time.” The recently unoccupied hand moved to spread her folds, offering him better access. “Oh, my love, you’re so hot, so open. I love looking at you, nothing to separate you from me. Your cunt is perfection. I love how, when I pinch your clit, the walls of your pussy contract around my cock, or fingers, as the case may be,” she whimpered as he demonstrated, an evil look in his eye.
He removed the juices-slicked hand from her pussy and proceeded to lower his head to her vulva. At the same time, his hand was painting decorative designs on her breast—swirls, jagged lines going nowhere in particular, even a few hearts just under the swell. It was a most beautiful sight to behold, her lover eating her out, while coating her aureole and nipple with her vaginal blood. He choreographed the movement of a blood-coated finger down the swell of her breast with his tongue hitting her clit.
“Giles! Yes, harder! Bite me!” Buffy was getting beyond comprehension. She didn’t realize the sight of her blood covering her body could be so erotic. She bucked into Giles’ mouth when he followed her instructions. He’d bitten her clit—hard—and had removed his hand from her labial folds to thrust two fingers into her pussy. Buffy was so close to coming. When Giles worked his thumb into her anal opening, she did. Hard. Starbursts surrounded her vision, she let out a keening wail, and her inner muscles squeezed Slayer-tightly around Giles’ fingers and thumb.
The look plastered on Giles’ face when he came up for air was nothing short of cocky. “Unchain me, and let me wipe that smirk off your face, mister,” Buffy answered with a grin of her own. “Think you’re ‘all that.’ I’ll show you.”
“I happen to know I’m ‘all that’, and yes, I have every confidence you will show me.” Making quick work of the chains, Giles threw them to the ground, both Buffy and Giles flinching at the heavy ‘thud’ sound the restraining devices made as they hit the floor. At Buffy’s raised brow, Giles answered, “Well, you are the Slayer, I figured you’d break out of hand-cuffs in less than 10-minutes, and we couldn’t have that.”
“Giles, that look is positively lecherous! And all these times I called you stuffy,” Buffy giggled as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her for their first kiss of the morning, tasting him and her blood on his lips. “God, I love you.”
“wvygtoo,” Giles replied. Buffy assumed it to mean, “Love you, too”, but his lips were crushed to her own, and, quite frankly, she didn’t want to give them up long enough to find out for certain.
She raked her fingernails up and down his chest, pausing occasionally to tweak one of his sensitive nipples, before moving down to stroke his hard cock through the leather of his pants, drawing out a cry of “Buffy!” in the process. “Mr. Giles, these pants definitely need to go.” She reached down her other hand to help with zipper un-zipping, once that was finished, she set about getting them off. Only to find they wouldn’t budge. “Um, Giles, why aren’t your pants moving?”
“Er, they seem to be stuck, I should have known leather pants were a bad idea.”
“Oh but, Giles,” Buffy said, sneaking a look at his ass, “they so weren’t.”
Giles chuckled as both he and Buffy rolled the leather down his legs. Once they were fully removed, and the sweat-induced itchiness of Giles’ legs had disappeared, the passion that had been put on hold had quickly re-ignited.
Giles moved over Buffy, positioning himself at her entrance, but Buffy stopped him, “Uh uh uh, I want to play. I have all this lovely paint on my body, you need some, too.”
Carefully, Buffy slid her hand into her pussy, soaking it with blood and fluids. With her other hand, she gently guided him onto his back. She used two fingers, first covering his nipples with her blood, feeling him get harder with every stroke. Then, drawing her fingers into her cunt once more, she began to write “Buffy” on his chest. “See,” she noted, “written in blood; you’re mine!” Her grin was cheeky, leaving him with no choice save to kiss it off her. Which he did.
Buffy sighed as he once more positioned himself on top of her, spreading her legs wide. She grabbed his cock and placed him at her entrance. On the rare occasions they started with him on top, she never knew exactly how he was going to enter her. Sometimes he took it painfully slowly, rocking back and forth, inch-by-inch until he was fully embedded within her. Others, he’d be inside with one quick thrust. More often, it was a mix of both. Today, she wanted it hard and fast. She shoved her hips toward him, and, at the same time, she grabbed his ass, pushing his body to hers, effectively taking away his choice.
“So that’s how it is, eh?”
“Yeah, Giles, I need hard this time.”
With that, Buffy felt her legs being hoisted over his shoulders while he pumped as hard as he could into her clenching pussy. She needed this so badly! Removing one hand from his ass to insinuate it between their bodies, she tweaked her clit. She bit into it with her nails, scraping it roughly. With no warning to Giles, she came again, crying out his name, clenching around him.
She could feel Giles getting closer. He was shaking with desire, chanting her name under his breath. With a hint of the devil in her eye, she decided to help him along. Buffy raked her nails across his back so hard, they left vicious red marks, then quickly, and with no indication, she slammed her hand down onto his rump. With a keening yell, he emptied himself into her.
“Good god, woman,” he said, after finally recovering his breath, “you’re going to be the death of me!”
“You, too, studly! What’s with the whole me-waking-up-in-chains thing? Not that I’m complaining,” she said, still beneath him.
“Nothing much. I just had the most lovely dream, and thought I’d like to make it reality.”
“Well, it was lovely, but now I’m all sore and will need at least an hour’s recuperation before I’m good for anything more taxing than passing out,” she replied with a lilt to her voice.
“I completely concur. Tho’ I think we may want to change our sheets. They’re a bit wet and bloody, as are we.”
“Go on. Grin. You know you want to.” With that, he grinned.