Rewards, by M. McGregor

Chapter 15

They stopped for food on the way home, and Faith was only mildly disappointed that she was able to eat hers without the need for Xander to hand feed it to her. She enjoyed herself nonetheless, both because it was yet another meal that wasn’t prison food, and because she was just having a good time with Anya and Xander. The two of them got along easily on the drive home, and Faith found herself smiling almost constantly at their antics, which mostly consisted of Anya feeding Xander handfuls of french fries while he tried to keep his eye on the road. They laughed and cracked jokes all the way home, with Anya teasing Xander into complimenting her profusely for another bite.

The ride home seemed very short thanks to how much she was enjoying herself, but she was glad to be back just the same. Already the apartment held a kind of safety for her. It gave her a sense of belonging. For the first time since she could remember, she had an actual home.

They walked down the hallway leading to the apartment, with Xander holding the bag of remaining fast food and Anya holding Faith’s leash. She was still dressed in her tight shirt and exceedingly small shorts. Her breasts strained against the tight fabric, and her erect nipples rubbed almost painfully with every step. The heart-shaped hole that revealed her cleavage made her feel like she was constantly on display, and whenever someone’s eyes glanced there, she felt a flush of heat that was nearly overwhelming.

In the past, Faith had enjoyed people looking at her, but it had almost always been about power and control, not about sexual satisfaction. Those who stared at her were under her control, beneath her. Now, however, she had no control, and it made those stares feel so completely different. They were looking at her and seeing her as she now was. Something beyond even a cherished possession. She was, if she dared to believe it, accepted. Maybe even loved.

When she dared, she did it briefly, always denying she’d had the thought as soon as it passed through her mind. Love wasn’t something for her, even before she’d taken Allan Finch’s life. Love didn’t exist. Couldn’t exist.

It was getting hard to maintain that belief.

“So what are we going to do tonight?” Anya asked as Faith felt the slack in the leash go taut. She let herself be led inside, and stood waiting while Anya closed the door behind them. “Are we waiting for Buffy before we have more sex?”

Xander surprised Faith in that he looked only a little mystified at that possibility. He shook his head and flopped down on the couch, slumping down low with his legs sprawled out against the floor. “I guess that depends.”

That surprised her even more. Anya moved to join Xander, and since she held Faith’s leash, Faith went along with her. Anya sat beside Xander, leaning slightly against him. Faith sat awkwardly at the other end of the couch, until Anya tugged the leash wordlessly, pulling Faith towards her. She put her arm around Faith’s shoulders and smiled contentedly.

“I like this spot,” Anya remarked thoughtfully, resting her head against Xander’s shoulder as she hugged Faith with her other arm. She looked up at Xander’s face. “Depends on what?”

Faith inhaled softly through her nose, closing her eyes at Anya’s smell. It was clean and feminine, with a specific scent that reminded her of having her head buried between the other girl’s legs. She imagined what it might be like if she were the one squeezed between Anya and Xander. The wonderful thought stung at her, and she wondered when she might get the chance to experience it. It made her stomach clench.

“I, uh, talked with Buffy a little. I’m thinking that I sort of, you know, can understand what she’s looking for now.”

“Does that mean you’re going to use her without guilt?”

Xander swallowed, and shrugged apologetically. “Yeah. I-I guess so. B-but only becau—”

Anya put her fingers to his mouth and sighed. “I know. You can stop explaining yourself all the time, Xander.”

“Well, uh, that’s what I want to talk about. I was thinking about Buffy, and how she’s, I mean, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she’s really kind of into this.”

“I noticed when she masturbated on the table before dinner yesterday,” Anya said without a hint of sarcasm. Faith squirmed slightly, wishing she’d seen the act firsthand. The idea of Buffy completely losing control and fucking herself in front of them all could get her non-existent panties soaking in an instant.

As much as Buffy’s presence tended to ruin Faith’s illusion of things being Different, there was no denying that she was powerfully attractive. Faith had always had a little thing for Buffy, a thing that had evolved into a deep resentment and hatred when it seemed Buffy’s life taunted her with its perfection, but it had never truly gone away. Now she was at the point of recognizing that she admired Buffy in a hundred different ways.

Buffy was better than her. She was a true hero and a fiercesome warrior to boot. She’d bested Faith in everything they’d ever done, morally, physically, and emotionally. There was a part of Faith that was in awe of Buffy, and that awe existed as much for Buffy’s headlong dive into her existence as Xander’s slave as anything else. Once again, Buffy was proving that she could handle things better than Faith could.

Faith felt those urges, the desire to be Xander’s, to be his slave and plaything. She felt the desires for things that could be shameful, things that could be painful, things that could be beautiful and things that could be incredible. She wanted to call Xander sir, the way Buffy was beginning to. And she wanted to be able to be Faith; the way Buffy was somehow still Buffy throughout it all.

She didn’t feel much like Faith anymore, and part of that was because she didn’t want to be Faith. Faith was a killer and undeserving of the peaceful feelings of acceptance that kept teasing at her. Sometimes she felt the desire to act like she had in the past, but always she bit it back, staying silent rather than hint at the others that she hadn’t changed. She wanted to prove she was Different.

Besides, she enjoyed it, some of it. Even if she didn’t recognize her own behavior, some part of her liked it. She liked silently curling up against Anya, feeling the other girl’s arm around her, holding her without a word. She liked the way Xander would give her a little smile of assurance when she was starting to feel like this would all go away. She liked how they seemed almost protective of her, and she feared how it might go away if she became at all aggressive in her enjoyment.

It was why she envied Buffy more than anyone in the world. Even now, Buffy was able to grasp the situation with both hands and know that she wanted it. She took it, despite Xander’s reservations, hell, despite her own reservations. Buffy was brave, where Faith was a coward.

Worst of all, there was something deeper she craved, beyond just the sex, the slavery, the feeling of being owned, used and controlled. As much as she wanted those things, as much as she needed them, as much as her desire for them was nearly overpowering since the reward had been cast, there was something she wanted even more. It was what set her apart from Buffy. It was what made her weak.

Because she should never have that thing, and could never have that thing. She would settle for the illusion, but she would never press the matter, for fear of losing even that.

Faith closed her eyes, and tried not to think about it.

“Well,” Xander continued. “It got me thinking. Buffy, she’s got the same feelings as Faith, right? Isn’t that what’s supposed to be going on?”

Anya shrugged. “Supposedly. They both seem to enjoy the same sexual practices. Faith likes having her nipples hurt as much as Buffy does, and they both get aroused from being ordered around.”

“I just want to make sure, one last time. Cause, uh, well Giles wanted us to do some experimentation with the orders and stuff, and I figured some stuff out with Buffy earlier, and I was thinking maybe we could do that until she was done with patrol. Only I want to make sure that Faith is okay with that like Buffy is.”

Xander slid off the couch, and took Anya’s hand in his as he knelt in front of Faith. She stared down at the man who owned her, and felt a thrill of acceptance as he took her hand in his.

“You say the word,” Xander said. “And this is for real. I’ll, uh, indulge myself. Do anything I feel like, and do the things I’m pretty sure you and Buffy are both looking for. I’ll try my best to be, uh, Master Xander, I guess. But like I said to Buffy, I’m only doing it if we’re all still just us too. You’re still Faith, I’m still Xander, and Anya’s still Anya. The stuff beyond that’s just what we do. Understand?”

“I think so,” Faith said, staring at him.

“You’re different now,” he said sincerely. “I get that. You don’t have to be like Buffy, or even like you used to be. But I just need to know that you’re doing this cause you want it. If you don’t want the same thing Buffy wants, we can talk about that.”

“What does she want?”

That gave him pause, and Xander glanced to Anya before looking back to Faith. He sighed. “She wants me to do this whole master/slave thing. I think she wants…”

“She wants to be used,” Anya offered helpfully. “She also wants to be pushed into things, sometimes painful things or things that offend her sensibilities towards sex. I’ve read many accounts of such relationships. She’ll derive sexual satisfaction from being made to feel powerless, humiliated, or even physical pain.”

Xander frowned uncomfortably, and sighed. “There’s more, I think.”

“Oh, well of course,” Anya said. “I was trying to be succinct. She’ll also greatly enjoy games of trust and other mundane sexual situations.”

Xander groaned. “Mundane? What’s wrong with good old fashioned sex?”

“Nothing. But it’s definitely more exciting when we try new things. Remember how much you liked spanking me that time?”

Paling, Xander looked sheepishly to Faith. “T-that’s not entirely—” He exhaled with a slight look of defeat, and closed his eyes. “Whatever. The point is, uh, Buffy’s looking for some hardcore stuff, here. And yeah, we can do that, and I could even be okay with it, but only if I know we’re all on the same page.”

He squeezed her hand gently, rubbing the back of her palm with his thumb. Faith swallowed and stared at him.

“So what do you say?”

A question came to her mind, and for a moment she almost clamped down on it, too afraid to ever voice such a thing. At that same moment, Faith thought she could feel the power of Xander’s control, the power of his order to “tell me what you want to say.” Before she could stop it, she asked, “W-will you always be… like this?”

She regretted it at once, and almost pulled her hand away. She seemed to lack the power to pull it free, and her eyes were drawn to Xander’s. He furrowed his brow.

“Like this? Like what?”

“Nothing,” Faith said quickly. “It’s stupid.” She was going to say yes either way. Did she want Xander to own her, use her, do the things he talked about and the things Anya talked about? Absolutely, and with more fire than almost anything she could ever remember.

Except for one thing.

“No, hold on. Be like what? Am I— did I do something wrong? Are you okay?”

That cut her almost as badly as the knife Buffy had slid into her gut. Since her eyes wouldn’t leave his, she shut them tightly. Once again, she told him what she was deathly afraid to say. “No, it’s not that. Y-you’re being… too cool to me.”

“What?”

“I just,” she swallowed, and managed to look up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly so as to bite back her tears. “I don’t know why you’re treating me like this, a-and I don’t want it to go away.”

“Don’t worry,” Anya said, putting her arm around Faith’s shoulder and squeezing her comfortingly. “It won’t.”

“I didn’t realize,” Xander said quietly. Faith pressed her lips tightly together, and kept her gaze turned upwards. Xander got to his feet and slid onto the couch in between her and the armrest. “Faith, anything we do, it’ll only be in addition to this, okay?”

She sniffed and shut her eyes again. “Yeah.”

“Hey. Come on.” He mirrored Anya’s embrace, and Faith lowered her head, her chin against her chest. For a moment, she luxuriated in the feel of them both, and the illusion they presented. A moment after that, she contemplated the notion that it might not be an illusion, and felt a tear trickle down her cheek. As before, she spoke the words that would otherwise have remained trapped within her.

“I want what Buffy wants,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even. “I want to get used a-and hurt and, you know, l-like a slave. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“What doesn’t?” Anya asked. “Many people have those desires.”

“Because I want those so bad, but i-if you do them… how can I pretend you like me?”

“Oh. Now I understand,” Anya said, nodding with sudden understanding.

“Understand what?” Xander asked.

“Faith doesn’t understand that we’re only doing those things because she enjoys them.” She clucked her tongue and touched Faith’s cheek with her other hand, pulling Faith’s head towards her bosom and hugging her gently. “Faith, Xander would only do those things because he liked you.”

“He shouldn’t. I’m…”

“Different. We just got done saying that, remember?”

The feel of her head against Anya’s chest was comforting in a way that Faith didn’t really understand. The embrace was protective, almost motherly, and Xander’s hand on her back made the strange feeling even stronger. All she wanted to do was give herself to them and let them comfort her, protect her, and guide her.

“I want it,” Faith said. “But I don’t deserve it.”

“Then maybe you can earn it,” Anya suggested. “You’re doing a very good job so far.”

“No,” said Xander. “This isn’t something you have to earn. If you like it, you just get to have it.”

“Why? Why should I get to be… to be happy?”

“Cause I said so.”

She smiled a little at that, sniffing against Anya’s chest.

“I want it,” she said again.

Xander rubbed her back gently. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. All of it. Anything you want.”

“Can I make you be honest? Just to be sure?”

Her head came up, and she sniffed as she looked at him. “You’d do that?” He’d done it to Buffy, but not to her. She was as jealous of Buffy over it as she was afraid of what it would mean to happen to her. Afraid of what it would mean if it didn’t.

“If we’re doing this, I’m going to do it anyway. I want you guys to be truthful. This isn’t the kind of thing we need misunderstandings about.”

She was nodding before she realized. “Yes. Do it. Anything, I want it. I want to do it all.”

“Okay. Faith, from now on, you’re going to tell me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

“I will.”

“So. Do you want this the way Buffy does?”

“Mostly,” she replied, her heart beginning to beat faster. He was going to know, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

“Mostly? What do you mean?”

“I want you to own me. I, um, I want you to do things to me like Buffy wants. The stuff she wants, I want it just as bad. But I also… I want…” She chewed on her lip for a moment. There was no holding back now. She had to be honest. It freed her from the doubt of what she was about to say. Her responsibility went only so far as to have to tell him. Xander would decide what to do about it. That was part of what she craved.

“I want you to love me,” she whispered, a tremor of fear in her voice. “I want to feel safe and loved a-and not afraid anymore.”

“Afraid of what?” he asked, eyes locked to hers and voice deadly serious. His free hand reached up to hold her upper arm.

“Of me. I’m wrong, Xander. I do the wrong thing. I mess it all up. I’m afraid you’ll realize that and you guys won’t—” she glanced at Anya, who was staring at her with an unreadable expression. “I’m afraid you won’t hold me like this, or hug me, o-or make me feel better, because you’ll know I don’t deserve it. I’m afraid that this will all go away somehow and that it’s not real. I’m afraid that it is real and that it’s not meant for me. The sex, the slave stuff, fuck, it gets me hotter than I’ve ever been, but the thing I want the most is when you… when you hold me. When Anya’s cool to me, or when you treat me like I’m— like I’m someone you could love, and not Faith. Shit, Xander. Nobody ever hugged me or nothing, before. I didn’t know it’d hurt so bad.”

Her voice grew quieter, and she looked down. “I didn’t know I’d love it so much.”

They were silent for some time. Faith stared down at the floor between her and Xander, unwilling or unable to look at him. His hand still held hers, and he still stroked her upper arm with that excruciating gentle touch that meant more to her than she’d ever expected.

Then Anya put her hand over theirs, and put her other arm around Faith’s shoulders.

“Is that all?” she asked simply. “You’d like the slave stuff but you’d also like hugs and niceness?”

Faith squeezed her eyes tightly shut, and nodded despite the overwhelming fear at voicing her desire. A desire she’d had for her entire life, but had never been able to breathe a word of.

“Well that’s easy. Xander’s very good at the hugs and niceness. He won’t even have any guilt about it the way he does about the sex.”

“It’s true,” Xander grinned, squeezing her hand. “I am well practiced at hugs.”

“And I find them very comforting myself,” Anya continued. “I enjoy the full gamut of physical affection, not just the sexual kind. I’ll gladly agree to lots of hugging and touching.”

To emphasize that point, she made a soft humming sound of appreciation as she hugged Faith tight. “See? It’s easy and a very nice feeling. You’re soft and your breasts give you a squishy kind of feeling that makes you very cuddly.”

Faith couldn’t help but snort. Cuddly was never a word she’d heard used to describe her.

“Yeah, Faith. You don’t have to worry about liking that. We like it too, and I already told you that you’re with us, with or without the reward.”

“It’s embarrassing,” Faith said. “Makes me seem stupid.”

“That’s good,” Anya chirped. Xander frowned at her. “I mean that it’s embarrassing. That should get you very aroused. We can hug you many times a day, hopefully in front of others, and then you’ll be more open to lots of sex later on.”

She had to admit; the shame of her vulnerability had her keyed up. To give up all of her emotional defenses in front of these two was a submission beyond anything Faith could dream up. A quiet moan escaped her lips.

“See?” Anya grinned. “Plus if we’re being affectionate many times a day, you won’t have to worry if we still like you when we try out bondage games and role-playing.”

“Actually,” Xander said, getting up and scooting between the armrest and Faith, putting his arm around her as well. “I think that the plus is that everyone will feel a little better.”

“Oh God,” Faith whispered. “This can’t be real.”

But when she opened her eyes, she was still there; caught between the people she belonged to. These people knew what Faith had craved her entire life: For someone to show her that they cared.

They were starting to convince her that they did.

“Okay,” Xander said a short while later. “Now that everything’s official, I think it’s about time I started taking charge.”

“That’s a good idea,” Anya said, her cheek pressed against Faith’s shoulder as she relaxed against her. “There’s a lot to take care of.”

“Yup. Faith, give Anya a big hug, then give me a big hug. After that, I want you to stand in front of the couch.”

Faith blinked, and turned towards Anya. Anya smiled and held her arms out wide as Faith wrapped her arms around her. She moaned quietly as she squeezed the other girl.

“Thanks,” Faith whispered in her ear.

“Oh, you’re welcome,” Anya smiled back. Faith let the hug linger without guilt, able to do so because it wasn’t her idea to give the hug. Xander had freed her of that worry, and now all she had to do was enjoy it.

Faith nearly dove into his arms when her hug was done, and squeezed him just a little tighter than she probably should have. Xander grunted good-naturedly, and kissed her on the top of the head as it finished, then patted her lightly on the butt when she got up.

Then she stood before them, hands awkwardly at her sides, wondering what was going to happen next. To her utter surprise, she felt a grin slide onto her face, the kind of grin she’d worn back before Allan Finch. Xander was about to play with her.

“Take off your clothes.”

“Oh good,” remarked Anya. “I was hoping we would have some sex. Are we all going to get naked?”

“Faith is,” Xander said. She was already undressing, pulling her tight shirt over her head. Her breasts bounced free, nipples stiff and throbbing in time with her pulse. She swallowed hard as Xander stared at them, admiring her. She kicked off her shoes, and slid down her shorts. An instant after she was undressed, the clothing reverted to its original form, that of Buffy’s borrowed clothing.

Then she stood before them, nude but for the choker around her neck. She put her hands at her sides, and stood on proud display.

“Giles wants us to experiment,” Xander said, as he looked up at her. “And I’m supposed to be embracing this, so I’ve got a few things I want to do. First, I think I figured something out. Faith?”

“Yeah?”

“Hang from the ceiling from your wrists, about a foot off the ground.”

“What, how can I—”

The light flashed, and Faith yelped as she was suddenly swinging in midair, her wrists locked in those padded cuffs. Her feet strained towards the floor, but she was nowhere near it.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, pressing her legs together.

“Wow. When did you figure this out?” Anya asked.

“When I, uh, gave Buffy her official welcome. Back at the shop. I think as long as I’m controlling the magic, it won’t do random stuff.”

Anya smiled and got up, moving over to Faith. Faith held her breath as Anya looked up at her. With her body a foot off the ground, Anya was nearly eye-level with her breasts. Reaching out, Anya ran her fingers along the side of Faith’s leg, enjoying the smooth feel. Faith shivered and groaned.

“She looks very sexy like this.”

“Ungh,” Faith grunted, twisting slightly in an attempt to satiate some of the throbbing ache in her pussy. “Holy fuck.”

“What else can you do?” Anya asked as her fingers traced up Faith’s side, causing her to squirm.

“Not sure. That’s what we’ll find out,” Xander said. He got up as well, and stood in front of Faith. Taller than Anya, he was nearly eye-to-eye with Faith. She stared at him in anticipation. “First, I want to give you a very important order.”

“Yes,” she hissed.

“Faith, you know I can do whatever I want to you, right?”

“Yes. Whatever you want.”

“I can make you do things, I can probably make you think things.”

“God,” she groaned. “Yes.”

“No matter what I order, no matter what happens to your mind, no matter what happens at all, if there’s ever a part of you that truly does not enjoy what’s happening, if there’s ever not a piece of you that’s enjoying things, then everything stops. Any orders go away, any bondage goes away, all of it goes back to square one, and you tell me or Anya or whoever that things went too far. No matter what. Understood?”

“Yes.” She swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

Xander grinned ruefully at that. “Guess I should get used to that.”

“I hope so,” Faith said, grinning naughtily.

“So that’s it. I won’t ask you anymore. If you really don’t like it, it stops, but other than that, anything goes.”

She nodded, humming softly as Anya kissed her stomach. Xander grinned at his girlfriend. Holding out his hand for her, she took it and stepped into his arms. He hugged her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist as they looked at Faith. The dark haired Slayer tried hard not to whimper, swaying slightly as she hung from her wrists.

“You look beautiful,” Anya told her. “Your breasts look very firm and enticing with your arms over your head.”

“She could stay there for a while,” Xander said, doing his best to keep the nervousness out of his voice. “Let you get a good look.”

“Ooh!” Anya suddenly turned in his arms, and grinned up at his face. “I have an idea.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. I read about it once. Is Buffy’s vibrator still here?”

Xander coughed once. “Uh, yeah. I think she left it on the table, actually.”

“Oh fuck,” Faith groaned, closing her eyes with the image of Buffy fucking herself on the table.

“Why don’t you play with Faith a little while I go get it?”

“I can do that,” Xander grinned, and Anya kissed him quickly before heading off to search. Xander rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and stepped closer to Faith.

“You really do look incredible,” he told her.

“Xander.”

“So,” he said conversationally, even as his hands rested on the curve of her hips. “Faith likes hugs, huh?”

She shut her eyes in embarrassment. Nevertheless, she responded with full honesty. “From you guys. I love them.”

“I don’t know why that bugs you,” he said, stroking her thighs gently as he examined her face. “But I think I can get why you like ’em. How do you feel when I touch you like this Faith?”

“Like I want to cry,” Faith whispered, her eyes still tightly shut.

“Why?”

She inhaled deeply through her nose, and opened her eyes. His face was lined up perfectly with hers, and though she was hanging helplessly before him, she had never felt safer.

“Because I feel safe.”

To her surprise, he didn’t scoff, but smiled and touched her cheek. She nuzzled against him, eyes closing in pleasure. “Good. Everyone should have a place they feel safe.”

“Found it!” Anya came trotting back, holding the thin wand in one hand. She grinned excitedly at Faith as she stopped before them. “Having fun?”

“We’re talking about hugs some more,” Xander said, putting one arm around Faith’s waist as he turned to Anya. “It’s got me thinking.”

“About?”

“Giles wanted us to experiment. Faith wants us to hug her and hold her and touch her and all that kind of stuff, right?”

“Yes,” Faith whispered.

“So what if… what if I told her to, I dunno, say something whenever she wants that?”

“Ooh, that’s an interesting idea,” Anya said thoughtfully. “Especially since she’s very shy about her desire, so otherwise she’d never tell us.”

Raising an eyebrow, Xander was more than a little impressed at how quickly Anya had figured out a key aspect of Faith’s personality.

“But I was thinking,” he said, his voice lowering slightly. “What if… Faith didn’t know about it?”

Faith swallowed. “What?”

“I could tell you to do something whenever you were craving a hug or a touch or something. Only what if I told you to not know you were doing it?”

Her breathing quickened. “W-why?”

“Well, to experiment,” he admitted. “But also, cause I think you’d really benefit from it. Think about it, Faith. How often in the last day or two did you want a touch like that?”

“I don’t know. Too many. A lot.”

“You’d get them, most of the time. Maybe not every time it crosses your mind, but always when you really need one. You’d never have to ask. To you, it would be like we’d just know.”

“Could you do that?”

“I’m going to try,” he said, and Faith realized he was no longer asking her for permission. She groaned and rolled her hips. “Faith, listen very care…”

Her hips bucked and Faith groaned loudly against the gag in her mouth. It had appeared sometime after her third orgasm, caused by the insistent buzzing of the vibrator that was shoved deep inside her.

A soft tickling sensation told her another drop of sweat was rolling down her chest, and Faith’s eyes rolled back as she felt another wave building inside. Her eyes remained staring forward, unable to look away.

It was Anya’s idea, and Faith would have been screaming her name in thanks if she hadn’t been gagged, not to mention nearly incoherent. Hanging from the cuffs around her wrists, she was completely nude save for the solid metal one-piece chastity belt that was now secured over her throbbing pussy, locking the vibrator inside her.

“A what?” Xander had asked when Anya suggested the idea.

“A chastity belt,” she said. “It covers her genitals. They’re often used to tease people into being unable to touch themselves without permission, or sometimes to keep pleasurable things inside of them.” She held up Buffy’s vibrator. “Things like this!”

“You want to lock that in her?” Xander said, sounding both amazed and a little skeptical about the idea.

“Yes. Then we can have sex in front of Faith while she hangs there. I think it’ll be very arousing.”

Faith whimpered in reply, and Anya beamed a smile at her.

“This way we all get pleasure,” Anya continued, stepping over to Faith and running her hand up the other girl’s thigh. “With Buffy not here, we have an odd number of participants, so we need to improvise to keep everyone happy. Unless you just want to worry about you and me, Xander, which Faith would probably enjoy from a slave standpoint, but I think since we’re just beginning we need to build some favorable trust first, don’t you agree?”

She was asking Xander, but looking into Faith’s eyes as she said it. Faith answered for her with a long drawn out hiss of a, “Yess…”

The hiss turned into a grunt of surprise when she suddenly felt that buzzing against her lower lips. Anya grinned mischievously as she pressed it against her. “You can watch us, Faith. We can leave it in until we’re done, and I know from experience that Xander has very impressive stamina.”

That’s just what they did, too. First Anya had slowly worked the vibrator into her pussy, talking quietly all the while about the things Faith would watch them do. By the time it had been pushed as deeply into her as it would go, Faith was sopping wet and had already cum for the first time. She was panting heavily when Xander, sounding a little unsure of things, said aloud that Faith should be wearing a chastity belt to hold in the vibrator. Sure enough, an instant later it was there, and her pussy was locked from the outside world, with the buzzing pleasure of the vibrator trapped in her.

She twisted and whined as it buzzed inside of her, all while her eyes were fixed on Xander and Anya. Anya sat facing Faith, her eyes glazed over with lust as Xander held his arms under her thighs, picking her up and dropping her down onto his shaft over and over again. Anya made happy squealing noises with every deep thrust, but always her eyes were locked with Faith’s. It was maddeningly erotic.

The gag had appeared as Faith’s resistances wore down, and she’d been unable to hold in her cries of pleasure. When the gag had suddenly appeared in her mouth the shock of it had driven her to another orgasm in a string of climaxes that could not truly be called the climax of anything. Always she began to relax, her body super-sensitive after the shuddering pleasure, but always the sight of Xander and Anya driving against one another would send her right back into a deep kind of lust.

Sometimes she thought about who they were. Her owners, fucking in front of their slave to tease her and arouse her. Her owners, staring at her naked and vulnerable body because it pleased them. Because she pleased them. It was getting harder and harder not to give in to the belief that they were actually caring about her, and that she might truly be safe and accepted here.

With them, she might truly be something beyond Faith the murderer. The whispered hope for redemption and happiness was a bittersweet fantasy that she craved with her entire being and feared more than she could say.

But she might really get it. It wasn’t up to her anymore. Xander was in control of her destiny, and she could not help but feel that such a thing was a huge step up. For only the second time in her life, she had someone she really believed wanted to help her becoming something more. Only this time, that someone was not an immortal sorcerer bent on becoming a demon king. This time, he was a construction worker who sometimes helped save the world, and the only person to ever make love to her. This time, there was no sick feeling of being out of control, spiraling to a place she didn’t want to go but couldn’t stay away from.

How strange that was, that in being without control, she felt more in control than she ever had while working for the Mayor. Faith wasn’t sure why that should be, but it was. Hanging there, able to think of her situation only in between fits of mindless pleasure, she tried to understand the difference. What was it that made giving up control to Xander something so… empowering? Why was it that she kept feeling those flashes of hope with an ever-increasing rapidity, lasting longer and longer each time?

Why was it that when she was bound, gagged, and unable to take her eyes from them that she felt cared for and accepted?

Why was it that the feeling grew even stronger when they simply touched her, a squeezing hand on her arm, a brief hug, or even a brief brushing of skin against skin? Why did those things make her hold her breath in an attempt to freeze the moment, and live there forever?

She wasn’t sure how long she was in those cuffs. Xander and Anya were — and there was no other word for it — professionals when it came to sex with one another. Each knew precisely what the other liked, no doubt because Anya was not at all shy about explaining precisely what worked and what didn’t, usually in an impressive display of profanity and dirty talk that sounded oddly clinical coming out of her mouth.

They went on for a long time. Sometimes it was the kind of fucking Faith was well aware of, frantic and with such a pounding insistence that it made her whole body seem to throb with the want of it. At one point Xander had Anya bent over the couch, one hand on her ass and the other pressed against the back of her head. Anya encouraged him to slam into her with as much force as he could muster, and he seemed perfectly capable of obliging. It was a surprise to Faith. Xander seemed so gentle, to the point where she had some doubts about his ability to really give her and Buffy the kinds of things they dreamed about. Yet when it seemed clear Anya wanted it rough, Xander was willing and even eager to provide.

It was an odd side of him to see. Though she’d been in two fairly heavy sexual situations with Xander, Anya, and even Buffy since the beginning of the reward, she’d yet to see Xander in a situation he seemed mostly comfortable with. A part of her had always thought Anya was just love struck when she talked about how good Xander was at sex.

After all, she’d been with Xander before. His first time, she’d later realized. He’d been okay, but nothing like the pro she watched with wide-eyed fascination.

But then, hadn’t he been uncomfortable, even then? Hadn’t she been aware of his nervousness and fear? What if Xander had been as comfortable with Faith then as he was with Anya now?

The thought filled her with that sense of hope, even as she tensed and screamed into her gag. She pulled herself up as her elbows bent, her whole body curling into a ball in mid-air as she shook through another orgasm. When it ended, she went slack at once, a dim part of her luxuriating in the painful wrenching of her arms as she let her body go slack in her bonds.

Other times in the seemingly timeless loop of wracking pleasure, Faith was witness to the flip side to the coin of Xander and Anya. At times their frantic fucking would slow, becoming soft and gentle, with giggling kisses and soft caresses. It was those times that Faith was not only deeply aroused, but also almost painfully jealous. That jealousy was soon overwhelmed with the thought that Faith might actually get to feel that again.

Again!

Faith twisted in her bonds, moaning as the vibrator’s buzzing began to slow, its battery finally draining. Her deep arousal maintained itself as she thought of the way Xander had talked to her, the way he’d touched her and reassured her when she’d first arrived. He could do it again. He probably would do it again. Xander was different. Even Anya was different. They were nice to her, and they had absolutely no reason to be. They had everything they could conceivably want from her, but still Xander seemed to worry about what she wanted, even as he kept insisting he was going to stop, since that was actually one of the things she wanted.

Only she wanted him not to worry about doing whatever he wanted, even as he continued to worry about what she wanted. She liked that he worried about her. No one ever had. Her new desires might want him to take advantage of her, hurt, or degrade her, but she was now realizing that the confusion she had was that she didn’t want those things to be real. She’d experienced them when they were real. She’d had people hurt her, degrade her, and take advantage of her. There had never been a thrill in that, sexually or otherwise.

At first, she’d thought that Gimmel had changed her to want those things, crave them deeply in a way that would have been frightening if it hadn’t been so powerfully arousing. Now, however, she was realizing the truth. She wanted those things as an extension of what she saw between Anya and Xander. She wanted him to tease her, to hurt her, to make her burn with shame and boil with lust. But the reason those things were so alluring wasn’t because of some sick desire to be truly abused. Yes, they aroused her, and perhaps that arousal was a foreign creation of magic, but the core of it was something different.

Any of it, all of it, it would all stem from that hope she felt in the pit of her stomach. If Xander called her a whore, it wouldn’t change the way he’d touched her. If Xander made her degrade herself, it would be for her benefit, because it called to her. Whatever she did, it would be with the knowledge that he could still worry about her, because there was absolutely no reason for him to. He had her in every single way. That he continued to care about her welfare said so much.

If anyone else did those things, she might enjoy them on the physical level, but in the deep down parts of herself, the part that clenched up whenever Xander put his arm around her, the part that shivered when Anya touched her gently, that part would hate it. Would rebel against it.

It was that same part that reveled in her current predicament. She hung there, limp and drained, head hanging down and unable to do more than twitch every so often when the dying vibrator gave a few gasping buzzes. That part of her was soaring, because she got both.

She got the dark, sticky, even frightening desires. And she got to have them without hating herself. Xander could do anything to her, and maybe even would, if he really believed she wanted it. All the while, there would be that feeling in the core of her. The hope. The Difference. The knowledge that she was his, and he was going to cherish her.

The touch startled her, but she groaned when she looked up to see him. He gave her an apologetic smile, and put his arms around her middle. “Time to get down.”

She didn’t see the light flashing this time, since she was barely able to keep her eyes open. Her arms went slack as the cuffs vanished, and Faith sagged into Xander’s grip, whimpering with wonderful exhaustion.

“Have a good time?” he whispered in her ear as he carried her towards the couch. She slumped against him, her head resting on his shoulder. The gag, like the cuffs, was gone.

“The best,” she croaked, her voice nearly gone. She moaned as he lay her down on the couch. The moan turned to a satisfied groan as she felt his fingers slide down her front. The belt was gone, and she felt him grab hold of the device that had driven her insane for the eternity that she’d hung there. It slid slowly out of her, and she sagged when it was gone, leaving her feeling oddly empty. He shook his head as he clicked it off, although it had long ago run out of power. “We got kind of carried away.”

“Yeah,” Faith whispered, smiling sleepily as he brushed the hair away from her face. “I’m gettin’… carried away… too.”

She fell asleep smiling.