Rewards, by M. McGregor

Chapter 3

Xander drew in a sharp intake of breath. Anya grinned and looked from Buffy to Xander and back again, her eyes wide. Faith opened her own eyes carefully, trying to gauge their reactions.

“You…” Xander said, his breathing coming in quick pants. He moved back, away from the strange human tent of Faith and Buffy’s legs, and sat back on his heels. Anya glanced at him, but remained leaning over the nude slayers.

“I get to play too,” Anya told Buffy.

“Ahn!” Xander exclaimed.

“Hey, she agreed to something,” Anya argued. “How do I know she didn’t set this up to try and steal you away from me?”

Buffy blinked twice, but Anya seemed not to notice.

“Besides, I’ve never been with a girl, and I need to expand my horizons. There could be things I could be doing right now that make me feel good, and I wouldn’t even know about them! Sex is a healthy way of taking advantage of being mortal, and we don’t even have to worry about those gross diseases anymore.”

“I don’t know whether this is a nightmare or a dream,” Xander muttered. “This can’t possibly end well.”

Anya looked down at Buffy for a moment, then scowled and pulled her head away from her.

“Why do you have to be so puritan?” she sighed as she made her way towards Xander. “You got a reward, Xander. That doesn’t happen every day.”

“You’re kidding. You mean Buffy and Faith don’t magically appear naked in my living room every day?”

She pursed her lips. Sometimes Xander really confused her. He liked Buffy and Faith, she knew that. And while she would not have chosen one of them to be involved in her first explorations of bisexuality, she wasn’t going to give up the opportunity now that it had presented itself. Besides, there was no way she was going to let Xander have sex with Buffy without her. Xander was her boyfriend, and he was going to stay that way.

Since she couldn’t very well ask him to reject his reward that meant she would have to embrace it with him. Anya was determined to get as much as she could out of this situation. If sex was inevitable — and she knew it was, this was a Gimmel reward, and the warning of what could happen if Xander rejected it would not be an idle one — then she was going to be involved. Buffy would be freed, Xander would get to have sex with Buffy, and Anya would find out if she enjoyed the pleasures of sex with women as much as she enjoyed sex with men. Or more accurately, sex with Xander.

“I don’t understand,” she sighed. “You’re aroused, I can see that. So are they. And Buffy says it’s okay, so why are you against this?” Her expression darkened. “Is it because you don’t want me involved the first time you’re with Buffy?”

That possibility hadn’t crossed her mind. Xander had been with Faith before, she knew that. But Buffy was his best friend, and Anya knew (and often resented) his deep feelings for Buffy. Maybe he just didn’t want her around when he got to touch her for the first time.

“What? No! No, that’s not it at all.”

“Then what?” Anya fumed.

“I don’t want to cheat on you,” he whispered. “Not with Buffy.”

Anya sighed, and actually grinned a little as she rolled her eyes. “Xander, you can’t cheat if I’m with you. Besides, you have to do this, otherwise they could get mutated or something.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his body language making it clear he wouldn’t do this without her permission.

“As long as I get to be part of it,” she said, crawling towards him and putting her arms around his shoulders. She smiled as she kissed him lightly, and straddled his waist, feeling his erection poking at her through his pants.

“Buffy’s not a lesbian,” he said, as she kissed his neck.

“Have you looked at her? She’s actually dripping, Xander.”

From over on the table, Buffy moaned audibly.

“See?” Anya grinned. Then she frowned a little, and sagged. “This is why I wanted to try these things. Look at how horny she is just from being naked and tied up a little.”

“A little? What’s a lot?”

“The point is: this is clearly an avenue of pleasure I deserve to explore.”

Xander stared into her eyes. “You’d really want to do that? To be in her place?”

Shrugging, she settled against him. “Maybe. I’ve never tried it, so how do I know? It certainly looks enjoyable, judging by how aroused they both are. It also makes them look very interesting.”

Xander swallowed. “It’s beautiful.” He turned red, and looked at her sheepishly.

“Yeah,” Anya agreed, not noticing his embarrassment. “It’s kind of like art.” She turned back to him. “Wouldn’t it be nice for you if I was like that, and you could just have sex with me whenever you wanted?”

That got a wry grin out of him. “Ahn, I can already have sex with you whenever I want.”

She grinned back at him. “Yes, but this way you wouldn’t even have to ask. You could just do it. Slide right into me. You don’t even have to wear a condom anymore.”

Buffy groaned from the table, and Anya sensed an opportunity. She continued on.

“You could cum deep inside me, filling me up inside with your hot spunk,” she whispered, glad she had researched dirty talking. “You could pull on my hard titties whenever you wanted, until I was screaming for you, Xander. You could taste me, spank me, or do anything you wanted to me. You’d be in total control of me. I’d be totally helpless.”

On the table, Buffy’s hips rocked gently, and it seemed Faith was breathing heavily. Buffy was whimpering with every breath, high pitched and insistent.

“Look at her,” Anya said hotly, rocking gently in Xander’s lap. “Look at them. They’re so into it, Xander. Doesn’t it excite you?”

Xander looked to them, and looked back at her. He swallowed. “Yes.”

“Ask her,” Anya whispered. “Ask her if we can fuck her.”

Xander stared into Anya’s eyes as he spoke in a clear voice. “Buffy? Can we…fuck you?” His eyes never left hers, but his voice trembled slightly halfway through the question.

Buffy’s pleading whimper was all the response Anya needed.

Faith bit hard into the gag, her jaw clenching powerfully as she attempted to hold back the moan that was fighting its way up her throat. Her whole body was tense, her every nerve on fire. With every second that passed, she was going further and further over the edge, losing herself to the desires tearing through her.

The shocking realization of where she was and who she was with had stunned her into near catatonia. At first, she’d been outraged, hoping to break free and make them pay for what they’d done to her. But the more time that passed, the more she realized that Xander, Anya, and obviously Buffy had little to do with her situation.

And the more she thought about it, who was she to be upset about this? She’d exchanged one prison for another. Sure, maybe the other prison wasn’t quite so creative with the chains, but this one was definitely a more stinging punishment. She was no longer the willing captive of the justice system; a justice system that had no idea of the full nature of her crimes. A prison she could have left any time it caught her fancy, a fact that often had her shaking with fear at the thought she might regress and break free.

Now she was in a real prison, now she was a real captive. If she deserved to be locked up, didn’t Xander or Buffy deserve to be the one to do it? She’d tried to kill both of them, and had done more inexcusable things to Buffy.

So she was resigned to her position. It wasn’t anything less than she deserved.

The trouble was that her body didn’t seem to know it was a punishment. She was aroused beyond anything she’d ever felt before. She was completely vulnerable, open and exposed to Xander Harris. A boy she really didn’t know, a person who could be anything to her. He was now her judge and jury. He could do whatever he wished to her, and it would be no less than she deserved.

It hurt, even as she yearned. Hurt to know that he would do terrible things, instead of the things he craved. They talked to Buffy, he and Anya. Talked to her about getting her free, apparently figuring out from some magic piece of paper that to do so meant having sex.

They didn’t talk to Faith about that. Anya had asked her if she was enjoying herself, but Faith couldn’t bear to admit that she was. She’d shut her eyes, rather than inadvertently answer. Since then, they’d all but ignored her.

Already she could hear them. The rustle of clothing as it was removed. Xander’s whispered reassurances to Buffy, promising over and over again that he would do this right, do it the way Buffy deserved it. He told her he loved her before Faith heard him kiss Buffy’s body. Where, she had no idea, but it made Buffy groan loudly.

She was not quiet about her feelings, Buffy. She’d been moaning, whimpering, and groaning since this started. Now, as Faith felt Anya and Xander’s bodies so close to hers, Buffy was moaning nearly nonstop. The soft rustle of hands against smooth skin spoke of gentle caresses that Faith would not feel. The squeak of pleasure as she heard a gentle sucking sound was one Faith would not make.

They would do these things for Buffy. When she was vulnerable and exposed, Xander and Anya would make love to her. Beautiful and deeply satisfying.

“I like these,” Anya said. Faith could hear soft sucking noises, and Buffy groaned in a low voice. The humming vibration of her voice echoed through the gag that connected them, tickling Faith’s lips. “And I always like it when you do this to me.”

“I like doing it,” Xander said in a low voice. Buffy squeaked and shuddered, and Faith heard two sets of sucking sounds. Soft kisses. More sucking. What were they doing? Why wouldn’t they do it to her?

She knew why. She was Faith. A murderer, among other things. Rapist could fit. She’d done things with Buffy’s body that Buffy had never wanted. Done things to others in Buffy’s body that they wouldn’t want. She’d killed, sometimes in rage and sometimes because it was her job. Once by accident. The most important one, by accident.

Faith squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to pay attention to the sounds of lovemaking. She ignored the way her legs were pulled and stretched when Buffy would spasm, and ignored the burning heat in her pussy, the aching desire to be filled, to be taken.

Even in this, Buffy was the one who got the better end of the deal. Always Buffy.

When the first tear dripped out of her eye, Faith thought she would die. She couldn’t even lift a hand to wipe it away. The knowledge that she was lying there with a tear streaking her face drove her past her controls, and she was lost. More and more tears dripped down, and she was helpless to do anything about it.

Naked, exposed, bound and gagged; Faith was more alone than she’d ever been in her life.

And she knew she deserved it.

He was hard as a rock. Xander couldn’t remember ever being so aroused in his entire life. Buffy was there before him, and he was kneeling in front of her legs. They were spread wide in front of him, revealing her pussy and ass to him, open, wet, and ready. He stared at her perfect body, a body he’d fantasized about for so long.

Anya was by her side; licking and sucking at Buffy’s erect nipples. Buffy was groaning and whimpering almost nonstop now, and it was clear she was enjoying the attention. She squealed and arched her back as best she could when Anya bit down lightly. His girlfriend looked up at him with a triumphant grin.

“That’s fun,” she exclaimed. “She’s much more sensitive than I am, and I think she likes it when they hurt a little.”

Buffy moaned in response, which Anya seemed to take for a yes, because she took Buffy’s other nipple between two fingers and pinched her hard. Buffy screamed into her gag and shuddered; her pussy quivering as powerful Slayer muscles flexed and undulated. Xander stared in complete awe, never believing Buffy could be so overtly sexual.

“It’s really too bad she can’t do anything,” Anya remarked as she idly pulled and tweaked at Buffy’s nipples, causing Buffy to wriggle and whine wordlessly. “I’m liking this so far, but I’m not really getting much back from this. Maybe we’ll have to do this again sometime when she can return the favor.”

Xander grinned a little. Anya was definitely getting ahead of herself, but he wasn’t about to argue. Buffy was amazing him. She seemed like a creature of pure lust, lost to the feelings Anya was inflicting on her. Unable to help himself, Xander bent forward, and kissed her lightly on the stomach, just above her pussy. Buffy’s whine changed pitch, and her stomach tensed as her ass rose slightly. Xander smiled, unable to believe this was really happening, and trailed kisses down her stomach, past her cute little belly button, and to the short strip of hair leading to her womanhood.

Buffy was breathing heavily, whimpering often, and occasionally screaming in a muffled voice into the gag when Anya would pull or bite at her nipples. Every so often, Xander would glance up to see Anya giving Buffy’s breasts a serious look as she experimented with a new way of pulling, twisting, or sucking on them. Many times she could keep her eye on Buffy’s face as she did so, as if to judge the intensity of the reaction.

Xander knew this was supposed to be about sex, in that he should probably just stick his boy part into Buffy’s girl part and move back and forth until it was over. That was all that was necessary, or at least that’s what he assumed. It was just that since Buffy seemed to be into this, and Anya was clearly taking advantage of this opportunity, why shouldn’t he?

On his knees, he stared at Buffy’s pussy. Her outer lips were swollen and slightly red, and glistened with her juices. She was, without exaggeration, sopping wet. Slick liquid dripped down the line of her pussy and into the crack of her ass before dripping down to the table. Xander stared at it, stared at Buffy.

Then he leaned forward, and licked slowly up that line, savoring the taste of her.

Buffy went silent. Her squeaking stopped. Her whimpering ceased. Her whole body tensed. Xander’s eyes went wide, and for a moment he was afraid he’d crossed the line. He looked up quickly. Buffy’s face was beet red.

Then she shivered, and groaned loudly into her gag, her entire body seeming to quiver. Her hips bucked violently, causing her and Faith’s legs to yank back and forth above them. Xander stared in fascination as Buffy, it seemed, came.

“I think she liked that,” Anya said. “And she should. You’re very good at that.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Xander said, grinning at his incredible girlfriend over Buffy’s now nearly gushing pussy. She grinned back at him, and then casually pinched Buffy’s nipple. The Slayer, breathing heavily from her orgasm, arched her back and squeaked again. No rest for the wicked.

Xander set to work at Buffy’s pussy, licking slowly around her thighs and swollen lips, careful not to probe deeper just yet. He would only occasionally move to the top of her pussy, at the tiny bud that poked out there, and kiss it gently before going on to tease the rest of her. Buffy was panting loudly and groaning constantly, and would sometimes tense up and shiver again. Xander smiled into her pussy and put his arms around her thighs before digging his tongue deep into her folds, tasting of the rich flavor of Buffy Summers.

She squealed loudly, and for a moment Xander wondered what the neighbors must think. He was glad Buffy was gagged; otherwise she might have woken up everyone in a five-block radius.

Suddenly he was aware that Anya was beside him, watching as he licked, sucked, and probed. He pulled his head back, and looked at her curiously.

“I wanted to see what you do,” she said. “Is that what you do to me?”

He swallowed. Swallowed the taste of her. “More or less.”

“Your face is wet,” Anya remarked, smiling wryly. Then she leaned forward, and kissed him on the lips. She pulled back, and licked her lips. “It’s kind of nice. Can I try?”

He thought he might explode on the spot.

“Sure.”

Anya nodded seriously, and examined Buffy’s pussy for a moment. She seemed to nod slightly as she recognized individual bits and pieces, as if cataloguing them in her mind. Her fingers poked and prodded; spreading Buffy’s pussylips apart and inspecting things close up. Buffy moaned, but by that point the sounds were mostly background noise.

“It’s very pink,” Anya said as she wiggled her finger around. Buffy shook and whimpered. “And her clit seems a little smaller than mine.” She brushed her thumb across it, and Buffy jerked. “Definitely as pleasurable, though.”

She looked up at Xander. “Maybe you should experiment with her nipples why I do this,” she suggested. “Buffy reacts differently to it than I do. I don’t really like my nipples pinched, but she seems to love it. That’s important information to know.”

“About you, or about Buffy?”

Anya shrugged at him. “Both.”

He decided not to press the issue, and instead let his grin form. He was not looking this gift horse in the mouth. Any thought that Buffy wasn’t enjoying herself had vanished from his mind at the way she writhed in pleasurable torture from their ministrations. Her whole body was flushed, and she was breathing heavily around her gag, her chest heaving up and down. He crawled around Buffy and grinned as he watched Anya tentatively kiss his best friend on her lower lips.

Shaking his head at this incredible turn of events, Xander looked over the scene in front of him. Buffy’s face was red, her mouth forced open by the gag in her mouth, her lips only barely kept from touching Faith’s. Her eyes were rolling back in her head as she groaned and whimpered. Anya was apparently doing a good job.

Smiling, he glanced at Faith, and felt his good mood vanish in a heartbeat.

She was crying. Faith! Faith was crying?

Faith never cried. He didn’t even believe she could cry. She was a badass supervillain. They just didn’t do that kind of thing. He frowned and quickly scooted over to her, leaning over her face and cupping her cheek with one hand.

“Faith?” he whispered, speaking low, his face close to hers. Her eyes squeezed shut more tightly, causing more tears to leak out. Xander thought his heart would shatter. He hated it when they cried.

Buffy was getting very into it now, but Xander had forgotten her as he stared down at Faith.

“Faith, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

What was wrong? There was a stupid question. She was naked, bound with her legs spread wide open, and forced to get jerked around as the girl she was bound to had sex. On top of which, he suddenly realized, she would have to have sex with him as well, in order to get free. No wonder she was crying.

“Faith,” he said, trying to sound as soothing as he could, his hand against her cheek. “Faith, look at me, please?”

To his surprise, her eyes opened, and she stared up at him. Her eyes were wet and frightened. He felt his own eyes water.

“I won’t do anything to you if you don’t want it,” he promised. “I won’t. I swear. We’ll find another way.”

She just stared.

“I know this is totally unfair,” Xander continued, idly stroking her cheek with his thumb, unaware of doing it. “It’s…Degrading, I know. I don’t know if you had a choice like Buffy did, but if you didn’t, I’m really sorry. I never wanted this.”

He sighed, and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Hard to believe, right? A guy doesn’t want a naked hottie in his living room?” he grinned and chuckled ruefully. “Uh, not that I was looking at the nakedness. I mean, not that you’re not nice to look at, but that I—” He groaned, and took a deep breath.

Faith continued to stare up at him, blinking slowly every so often and breathing evenly. Her eyes were wide and expressive, focused strongly on him.

“Are you okay?” he asked again. “I mean, besides this? Um, blink once if you are, and twice if you’re not.”

She blinked twice. He felt his heart skip a beat.

“Are you hurt?”

She stared at him. Then blinked twice, slowly.

“Angry?”

Two blinks. Slow, as if she was thinking about it.

“Scared?”

After an eternity, she blinked. Once.

Xander sighed, and shook his head sadly, his thumb softly caressing the side of her face. Without thinking, his other hand went under the table, and found her own. He gripped her fingers gently.

“We’ll get you out of this,” he promised. “Without the sex if—”

Faith blinked twice. Xander frowned.

“No? No what?” But of course she couldn’t answer. Beside them, Buffy was making high pitched whimpering noises constantly, the pitch and tone changing as Anya refined her technique. “You don’t want to get out of this?”

Two blinks.

He frowned, trying to work things out logically. “Faith…Do you want me to? I mean, would you let me…do you? Hav— Make love to you?”

Her eyes watered, and another tear dripped down her face. She blinked once. He thought for a moment that it was a reflex to blink the tear out of her eye, but she stared unwaveringly up at him afterwards.

“Do you want Anya to stay out of it?” he asked. “She will if I press it.”

She blinked twice, and Xander sighed. “I don’t know what the problem is, Faith. Besides the obvious, I mean.” He squeezed her fingers gently. “Just, know that I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you’re okay. I promise.”

“Ngg Aay,” Faith mumbled. Okay. Her eyes stared meaningfully up at him, and Xander smiled a little.

“Buffy seems occupied,” he whispered in her ear. “Do you want me to do you while Anya’s keeping her busy? Get it over with?”

Faith blinked once. Then she blinked twice. Xander frowned, unclear on the meaning. Then it clicked. “You don’t want to get it over with, but…You do want to do it now?”

One blink. Xander’s heart raced.

“Are you sure?”

One blink.

Their eyes remained locked for several long moments, the sounds of Buffy’s ecstasy the surreal soundtrack to the moment.

“Faith, if I do this…I don’t want it to be…” He frowned, searching for the words. “It’s going to mean something. To me. It meant something the first time, too.”

Her eyes grew wet again. She blinked once, and another tear rolled down.

“I want it to mean something to you,” he whispered. “But…I understand if it doesn’t. Just know that…I don’t hate you, Faith. Especially not now.”

She blinked again, and he nodded.

“I’ll try to make it feel good. Is that okay?”

A slow, serious blink. He grinned a little. “Just enjoy, then.” The grin widened, and he glanced up at her legs, her ankles encased in cuffs and spread apart by the bar. “Don’t worry, I’ll do all the work.”

He thought he saw a smile in her eyes, and she let out a small huff of air. On an impulse, he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

Yes, she was a killer. A murderer who’d tried to kill him personally, in a way beyond anyone or anything ever had. But Anya was a killer too, and she was trying to be more. Faith had gone to jail of her own accord. And her eyes…

They didn’t look evil. When he’d looked in them, he hadn’t seen hatred and fury. He’d seen fear and heartache. In that moment, all he wanted to do was rid her of that. In that moment, he felt he’d made a huge mistake in never talking to Faith since she’d been in jail.

“It means something,” he whispered in her ear. “We start over, today. None of what came before matters, not to me. Let’s just make it different this time.”

When he pulled his head back, she blinked slowly at him. He smiled, and kissed her on the forehead. Then he moved around her, to the other side of the table. He stared down at her bare pussy, wet and sopping, as Buffy’s was. Faith’s legs rose before him, long and slender, smooth and exquisitely feminine. He reached his hands out, and stroked them softly, down to the cleft between her legs. Faith’s skin broke out into goosebumps, and he kissed the inside of her thigh gently.

Faith’s moan was lost under Buffy’s squeals.

It was as if Xander had given her permission to be free, even while bound as she was.

“Just enjoy,” he’d said. And later, “Don’t worry, I’ll do all the work.”

To Faith’s surprise, she found she could do those things. Found that she could just relax and enjoy the incredible feelings, and not have to worry about what Xander meant when he said it meant something. He’d said everything that had come before didn’t matter to him. She could start over with him.

Who had ever given her such an offer, and when had she ever believed it as a total and unquestioned truth? That was the strangest thing. She believed Xander, when he told her that. Believed that things really could be different this time.

And as she felt his gentle, caring hands sliding down her legs, she knew it would be different. No one had ever touched her like that. Not slowly and carefully, with a kind of queer tenderness to it. Everyone she’d ever fucked, man and woman alike, had simply taken what she was willing to give.

With Xander, he could have taken it all, willing or unwilling. She was helpless, and totally at his mercy, in his power. Yet he didn’t take it, he asked for it, and when she offered, he took it carefully, tenderly. His gentle touch sent shivers up her spine, and Faith found herself wishing her mouth were not locked around the gag, so that she might taste his lips, and kiss him when he entered her. She remembered then, what it was he’d asked. Could he make love to her?

Faith’s breathing quickened. Could anyone make love to her? Could you love a killer?

Just enjoy. Don’t worry.

She would. Xander was going to make love to her, and there was nothing she could do about it. She would have smiled, if she could. There was no way for her to ruin it, no way for her to mess this up like she’d messed up so many other things. It was in Xander’s hands. She was in Xander’s hands. He would make love to her, because he said he would. She believed him.

Faith would enjoy it—was enjoying it.

Xander moved up her body, sliding between her legs, kissing up her tight stomach and heaving breasts. He licked gently at one nipple, and Faith’s eyes rolled back at the explosion of pleasure that shot through her from the simple touch. Never before had she felt anything like it, and as Xander sucked her into his mouth, she let out a low-throated groan that was almost a purr.

His teeth scraped against her, and she jerked, crying out into the gag as her body spasmed. God! It felt so good. Was this what making love was? Was this some magical difference between fucking and making love? How had she never experienced this before?

Tears continued to slip gently down her face as Xander worshipped her, for there was no other word for it. His mouth tasted her, his hands caressed her, and when she felt his throbbing hardness touch at the entrance of her pussy, Faith moaned a pleading whine into her gag.

It was excruciating torture. Xander controlled the pace, Xander controlled what she felt. The squealing cries of Buffy into the gag they shared served only to heighten the act, as her mind relished the thought of Buffy shaking with desire, unable to control herself as she had her pussy eaten out. Faith wanted to be the one between her legs, but she also wanted to be where she was, being made love to for the first time.

By Xander Harris. A boy she didn’t know. A man who was offering her a second— no, a third chance.

It was so beautiful, and Faith struggled to keep her eyes on him as Xander bit lightly on her nipple. Again, her eyes rolled back, and she was unable to keep her gaze on him. She felt his fingers sliding down her, slipping into her moist cunt. They brushed across her clit, and she shrieked into the gag despite herself. Sex was never like this, before.

Then he was over her, looking down at her, even as she strained to twist her head as much as the gag would allow. Faith wanted to look at him, wanted to her eyes to be on his when he did it. She wanted to see that mysterious something in his eyes when his dick slid into her.

This time, it would mean something.

His cockhead pressed against her opening, hot and insistent. Faith wished she could spread her legs wider, wished she could urge him onward, wished she could do anything to make it mean more. Instead, she just looked into his eyes as best she could, and enjoyed it.

Xander’s eyes were locked with hers as he pushed forward, plunging inside of her. Faith cried his name into her gag, and knew he’d been right.

This time, it was different. This time, it meant something.

This time, he’d made love to her, even if she didn’t know why. Nothing would ever be the same.

If a thought could be said to be in Buffy’s head, it would have been this: No wonder Willow was a lesbian!

As things were, coherent thoughts were about the last thing from Buffy’s mind. All she felt was Anya’s fast-learning tongue on her pussy, a wet and hot wand of extreme pleasure. In that moment, it wasn’t Xander that owned her; it was Anya’s tongue. She was a slave to that wiggling insistence, unable to mount even a passive defense against the wonderful invader.

The only thing that could have made it better was if Xander was still there. If he was there, pulling and pinching her newly sensitive nipples, sending that hot spark of pain and pleasure through her, she’d likely die of pleasure. Even better, even naughtier would be if Xander rammed his hot, hard cock into her dripping pussy, all while Anya continued to lick at her.

Buffy shuddered in orgasm, having long since lost track of them all. She’d learned with Riley that she was, and could be, completely insatiable. The body of a Slayer didn’t get tired, didn’t wear out, and every orgasm served only to draw her to new heights.

Riley. Her boyfriend. Who she loved, but wasn’t in love with.

It was a fleeting thought, and gone under the ministrations of Anya’s tongue. What could she do, anyway? This was necessary to get free. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. All she could do was enjoy it.

That’s what she told herself, anyway.

Enjoy it, she did. Her fingers, clasped behind the table, clenched and unclenched in a futile attempt to express the full power of what Anya was doing to her.

When this was over—and she hoped that never happened—Buffy was going to apologize to Anya for every not-so-nice thought she’d ever had about her. The girl was obviously a saint. Maybe even a goddess.

Buffy squeaked into the gag as another thought came to her, just as another orgasm did as well. Anya’s tongue licked from the crack of her ass up to her clit, a long slow line of incredible eroticism.

She belonged to Xander. This might free her from the bondage, but did that mean she wasn’t his? Somehow, she doubted it. What if…What if Xander asked her to eat Anya’s pussy?

She groaned loudly. The thought was too hot. Far too hot. Xander pounding into her from behind as Anya sat on the couch with her legs spread, with Buffy lapping greedily at her cunt. Whispered words like slut and whore, fingers pinching and squeezing her. Faith’s tongue, licking down her back and to the swell of her ass, headed for her exposed rosebud.

Such decadent, dirty thoughts were fast driving Buffy into a frenzy, a frenzy that had no outlet but her incredible pleasure. Buffy wanted to do things with them all. Things she’d never let herself contemplate, but that now seemed too darkly forbidden and exciting as to be necessary. She would do them all, if Xander told her to.

Who was she kidding? She’d do them all if Anya just kept doing that to her. Would do anything for anyone who could make her feel like that. Buffy Summers, confirmed heterosexual, was quickly converting to bisexuality thanks to a bad case of Anya-itis. No matter what happened after this, she knew that if Anya walked up to her and offered to eat her pussy, Buffy would shed her clothes in a heartbeat, and shove Anya’s head into her crotch.

And of course, if Xander offered, she would do the exact same thing. His tongue on her pussy had been equally incredible, if short-lived.

After another mind-shattering orgasm, Buffy panted heavily into the gag in her mouth, and she realized she was imagining that the plastic penis was Xander’s cock. Her tongue was massaging the underside of it, and she sucked on it lightly, humming and squealing happily as Anya showed no sign of stopping.

In the momentary clearness of thought that came after the orgasm, she wondered why Xander had stopped, why he was no longer part of this. She wanted him there, to touch her, to control her. He was her limit now, and since she could no longer trust herself, she had to trust him instead. It was submission in its ultimate form. He was her conscience now, he was her owner. It thrilled her, because it relieved her of her responsibility. She could just experience, could just enjoy.

She wanted to cry out for him, to feel his presence, feel his touch and know he was watching out for her. She whimpered softly, her eyes darting around for him. As she did, Anya’s tongue swirled into her, and Buffy’s eyes rolled back into her head. She panted heavily, and for several long seconds, could barely remember where she was, so intense was the feeling.

Then suddenly he was there. Xander’s hand, reaching over her, gripping her right breast in one hand. He squeezed it hard, and she groaned pleasurably at the sharp and beautiful pain that flushed into pleasure. Buffy screamed his name as best she could, and realized it was being twinned by another scream.

Faith’s groan echoed Buffy’s own, the two of them muffled by the gag they shared. Buffy’s eyes strained to look up and see what was happening, not so much because she wanted to know what Xander was doing, but more because she knew what he was doing. He was fucking Faith. Driving his big, hard cock inside of her, his body against hers, her pussy gripping him as only Slayer muscles could. He was taking her the way he was going to take Buffy. Her enemy, Faith. Her rival, Faith.

Her sister, Faith.

They were together, in this. Slayers and…and slaves. Slaves to the incredible feelings that drove them, slaves to the trust and love that Buffy had for Xander. Faith was carried along with that, and she was reaping Buffy’s rewards.

The jealous feeling rose and fell, overwhelmed by her own pleasure, and the pleasure she had at picturing Faith on her back, those firm breasts rocking back and forth with every thrust, her body slick with sweat, her nipples hard and straining for the ceiling. She pictured Faith’s perfect, sculpted legs, bent back towards her head, spread wide and held there with ankle cuffs. Faith, bound, helpless, and totally exposed. Faith, owned by Xander the way Buffy was owned by Xander. They were both the same in that. Both were in his complete control.

Would it be the same for Faith? Would she find a strange sense of peace in that notion, the way that Buffy did? Buffy trusted Xander, and the fact that Gimmel had asked her before this all started was one of the reasons she was able to enjoy it. What of Faith? Could she trust Xander even close to that? Could she trust anyone like that?

That thought too was washed away. The next that came was of Faith, but it was of her body. Her eyes. Her lips. Buffy remembered a night in the bronze, dancing next to Faith, their bodies against each other, and an instant where they looked into each other’s eyes. That thought sent her over the edge that was not an edge, because she never fell far, but always rose up again even higher on Anya’s ever-moving tongue.

She liked girls, now, thanks to Faith. Faith liked girls, thus Buffy liked them, because they were both the Slayer. Did that mean Faith now liked the idea of sex in public? Did Faith want someone to spank her, squeeze her tits and send delicious pain to mix with the swells of pleasure? Did Faith want someone to whisper horrible things in her ear?

She knew she must, because Buffy wanted those things, and so many more. She wanted Xander to do them, wanted Xander to explore them with her. Wanted him to draw the line, to decide what she did and what she didn’t. Wanted him to push her beyond herself. She wanted to give herself to him, for him to use and play with. The thought made her shiver, and she didn’t care where it came from.

They were both moaning loudly now, their sounds dulled by the gag, allowing them to scream their pleasures without waking up the whole world. Buffy’s legs were constantly being pulled back and forth, the rocking, shaking tremors between her and Faith and causing them to jerk in their bondage.

Her bondage. The idea was thrilling and so darkly beautiful.

Xander’s hand mauled at her breast, and Buffy never wanted it to leave. His touch was at once rough and gentle, strong but reserved. She wondered if he could feel her heart racing beneath it.

Faith let out a low-throated bellow, and Buffy’s legs were pulled back even more, the straining pain acting as a added spice to her already enflamed senses. Pleasure and pain were interchangeable in that instance, each simply a soul-shattering sensation that served to drive her to greater heights. Buffy responded to Faith’s low cry with her own high-pitched squeal as she felt Anya’s thin and feminine fingers slide into her wet cunt.

Two fingers plunged into her, sawing back and forth while Anya sucked and teased Buffy’s clit. She was writhing uncontrollably, and felt Xander’s touch tense. He groaned, and she knew he was cumming. She hoped it was deep inside Faith, spurting inside of her, claiming her and owning her. Lost in the haze of her lust, with no act too depraved, Buffy wished she could taste his cum from within Faith’s pussy, licking decadently at her enemy, now her partner in this fantasy turned reality.

Faith’s sounds died down, going from a low moan to a soft, bewildered panting that seemed more endearing than anything else. With every breath she let out a high-pitched, “Hah,” and her chest rose and fell in heaving pants.

Xander’s hand on Buffy’s breast squeezed her once, a gesture of affirmation and comfort, she somehow knew. She could hear the sound of Xander’s lips against Faith’s slick body, but was unable to make out the words he whispered in her ear. Faith trembled gently, and continued to pant in that cute and exhausted way.

With one final kiss against Buffy’s clit, which again caused her to shake with desire, Anya lifted her head from Buffy’s crotch, looking at Xander over the bound Slayers. She worked her jaw back and forth.

“This is more work than it looks,” she remarked. “But the results seem very pleasurable. Did I do a good job, Buffy?”

Buffy was unable to answer, and whined wordlessly.

“I think that’s a yes,” Xander said, panting as he leaned over Faith. He kissed her neck gently, and Faith whined sweetly.

“I’m surprised you went for Faith first,” Anya said, sitting back on her heels.

“Are you okay with that?” he asked, leaning back, his hands resting gently on Faith’s trim waist, holding her even as his cock softened within her. She was so soft and smooth, and he was suddenly aware of how small she was. Faith was power, force, and energy, yet in that moment she was delicate and vulnerable. Xander looked down at her with a soft expression of wonder, and then looked back to Anya.

“Well, I guess I can’t blame you. I got carried away with Buffy.”

“It’s a good thing she’s gagged,” Xander said, so relaxed now that he wasn’t really thinking about what he was saying. “Otherwise we’d get kicked out for making a girl scream bloody murder.”

Anya grinned a little at him, wiping her wet face with the back of her hand. She licked her fingers. “Well, I enjoyed myself, even if I didn’t get off.”

Buffy continued to whine softly, her eyes closed as she attempted to thrust her pussy upwards. Anya smirked at her. “She’s very greedy.”

“I thought you admired greed,” Xander said with a slight smile.

“Greed is very important to the evolution of society and the continued prosperity of capitalism,” Anya said, sounding as if she were quoting something. “I’m just surprised. Buffy never wanted to talk with me about sex before. I thought she must not like it very much.”

Buffy moaned loudly and arched her back. Anya grinned. “I’m so glad we found something to do together.” She reached out and worked her thumb slowly into Buffy’s cunt. Buffy grunted and then groaned in a low voice, her eyes rolling back.

Xander sighed and pulled out of Faith, causing her to whine softly in protest. He grinned and kissed her neck.

“I hope it was better this time,” he whispered in her ear. “Anya’s made me practice a lot.”

Faith stared up at him, and blinked once, very deliberately. Xander’s grin widened, but then he paused, and frowned.

“Hey, Ahn?”

“Hmm?” Anya said distractedly, focusing on making Buffy emit various different sounds.

“They’re still all locked up.”

“Well yeah. You still haven’t done Buffy.”

“But…You were, um, doing her.”

Anya frowned at him like he was a foolish child. “It’s not my reward, Xander. You’re the one who has to accept it, not me.” She ceased her ministrations, and her look turned serious. “You understand that…That this is just the beginning, right Xander?”

“Beginning? Of what?”

“The rest of your life,” she said. “The reward gave them to you. Not just to have sex with once. This is probably forever.”

“Forever?” Xander squeaked. “You said they would be freed!”

“They will! Or, at least, I think they will. But that doesn’t mean the reward is over, Xander. I don’t know what it’s all going to mean, but we’re going to have to be very flexible about our relationship from now on.”

Xander paled. “Oh God. What about Riley?”

“He’ll have to be flexible too. Otherwise Buffy and Faith could die or something.”

Xander’s heart began to race as he thought of the consequences of this all. Before, when he was hard as a rock and unable to think clearly, this all seemed like some kind of incredibly kinky dream. Then Buffy was agreeing, even possibly asking to have sex with him, and soon he was lost in quite possibly the sexiest, hottest event of his entire life.

Now he was more clear-headed, his dick only slightly hard. He was still a young man, after all, and he was in a room with three hot, sweaty, horny girls, two of whom were displayed like pieces of art. One was his girlfriend, his lover and confidant. The other was his first; the dark paradox of caring and fear that he held for Faith was more intense than ever. The third was Buffy. The girl. The one that some deep-down part of him knew would always come before anyone else.

To say his feelings were confused was an understatement. One girl he loved, one girl he feared, and one girl was Buffy.

Buffy, who was with Riley. Soldier Riley, who had access to guns and knives and martial arts moves that could kill him before Xander could blink. Riley was good for Buffy, Xander was sure of that. They seemed so happy together.

Yet just the day before, Riley had said something that had chilled Xander more than he realized.

“She doesn’t love me,” Riley had said. Buffy, he claimed, didn’t love him. What did that mean? They were, to Xander’s mind, a far more stable couple than he and Anya. If Buffy didn’t love Riley, did that mean Xander’s crime in being involved in sex-type-things with her was not quite so bad?

What else was there for him to do? This was the only option they had of freeing the two Slayers. Buffy didn’t want them contacting the others, so he was forced to go with Anya’s expertise. His girlfriend was a thousand-year old veteran of mystical intervention. Her department was vengeance, and this was supposedly reward. Not quite the same, but he figured the principle was similar.

What kind of reward was a person? That didn’t seem like the kind of thing the Side of Good would do. People weren’t meant to be given like property.

Property of Alexander Harris.

The Hellmouth was the problem. Always the problem. The paper had said that the Hellmouth had altered things.

No, not just the Hellmouth. The dark mark on the Slayer’s record. He frowned. Faith.

What if Anya was right? What if this was just the beginning?

He couldn’t even begin to wrap his mind around the possibilities of what this could be. It could be, as it had been so far, mind-blowing. Incredibly erotic and awe-inspiring. But the Hellmouth could change that.

Xander grit his teeth. Whatever would happen, he knew his priorities. He had to get Buffy free. She was the Slayer, she had responsibilities, and there was no way he was going to let her stay trussed up on his coffee table for the rest of her life. If Anya said this was the way to get her out, then this is what he would do. They would figure out the rest of it later.

“Okay,” Xander said, patting Faith’s waist gently before moving away from her. She let out a soft whimper, but it turned into a low groan when Anya reached out and pinched her nipple. Anya stopped him as he crawled around towards Buffy, and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. He could taste Buffy on her. His cock began to stiffen again.

“I’ll entertain Faith,” she said, smiling into his eyes. “And when you’re done with Buffy you can rest for a few minutes and then do me. I’m very aroused.”

He grinned at her matter-of-fact tone. It was one of those endearing qualities about Anya that he loved so much. Sex with her was always an adventure, because she was not shy about telling him exactly what she was feeling and in what degree she was feeling it. He kissed her again, deeper this time, tasting the musky flavor of Buffy that lingered in Anya’s mouth.

“I’m glad you won’t have to wear a condom anymore,” she said as they broke apart. “I think this reward is going to be very nice.”

Xander glanced from her to Buffy, who was panting with her eyes closed. Her body was covered in a sheen of sweat. Her nipples strained upwards, and her pussy was wet and swollen.

“We’ll see,” he whispered. Anya rolled her eyes and kissed him again.

“Go have sex with Buffy,” she said, smacking him lightly on the ass. “But don’t forget you’re my boyfriend. You’re bound to enjoy yourself, since you and Buffy have so much sexual tension to burn off.”

With that, she turned from him, and crawled over to Faith. With a smile, she leaned over the dark-haired Slayer.

“Hi,” she said brightly. “I’m going to see if you like having your breasts played with as much as Buffy does.”

Faith groaned, and Anya’s smile widened.