Lessons in Control
Chapter One: Lessons in Control
"Wow, that was some movie," Willow said as Spike climbed off of her.
"I thought you'd like it, Red," he replied as he lifted her. He carried her up into their bedroom and dropped her, none too gently, onto the bed.
"Hey!"
"What? You know you like the rough stuff," he said with an evil grin, "You just proved that in the other room."
"I know but you didn't have to-" she started but images from the movie Spike had rented came flooding back and crowded her mind.
"Do - um, do people really - do that?" she asked in a voice more like the Willow she had been before she started sleeping with Spike. His Willow was much bolder, at least when they were alone.
Spike had enjoyed breaking her out of her shell. The movie he had rented tonight had been sort of a joke; he hadn't thought she'd really enjoy it. She was more adventurous with him every day; but the first time he'd brought home a porn movie she'd been too embarrassed to even come out of the bathroom while he watched it.
Eventually, she grew to enjoy them almost as much as he did. She liked the ones with some kind of story to them, and though he didn't understand the point to a story in a porn movie, he had no problem going along with her peccadilloes. He came to learn what to look for on the cover of a box to see if it was something Red would like. Basically, anything put out by Candida Royale's company, Femme Productions would light her up like a firecracker.
Tonight, however, he had rented something different. He found a movie starring an actor Willow thought was 'fetching' [her word] and he had gotten it more for shock value than anything else. She was so much fun to tease. The movie had featured the 'fetching' actor as a Dom with a rather well endowed lovely as his submissive.
He had expected to have the movie on for two minutes before Willow either ran out of the room to hide in the bathroom or screamed at him for bringing it home at all. He hadn't expected to smell her arousal as she watched the on-screen 'slave' prepare herself for her 'master'.
'This could get interesting' he thought but didn't say because he didn't want to scare her off. He hadn't had any decent D&s play since, well, since Angelus over a hundred years ago, and then he had been on the 's' side of things. He thought he might enjoy the view from the other side.
Angelus had been an excellent master and while Spike knew he could never carry the 'punishments' as far as Angelus had, Willow didn't have vampiric healing for one thing and Spike wasn't the sadist that Angelus had been for another; he knew he could teach her to enjoy being a slave as much as he had.
And so he had sat there quietly watching the movie, smelling Willow's desire, then hearing and feeling her visually stimulated orgasm. He had been pleasantly surprised, - no 'surprised' wasn't the word, just pleasant? - no ecstatic when Willow had knelt before him and sucked him off just as the girl on screen had been doing.
The relationship between the dominant and the submissive had been fascinating to her. She had heard of this kind of thing, of course, but never really thought much about it or what might be involved. But the tenderness between them and the way the woman had enjoyed the pain captivated her. Either they had used an excellent makeup person for the film, which she doubted, most porn looked like it was filmed in someone's basement, it wasn't a genre noted for a 'no expenses spared' atmosphere, or the actor really had been hitting her hard enough to leave those marks.
And the actress had enjoyed it. Or at least 'acted' like she did. But how?
"Do - um, do people really - do that?"
"Yeah, love, they do. It can be fun, and very rewarding, if done right."
"Have you, have you ever -"
Spike didn't make her finish. "Yeah."
"And did you -?"
"Yeah, I did. Loved it." he said softly. He was getting hard again just thinking about it.
"With who? Drusilla?" she asked tentatively, not sure she really wanted the answer.
"No, love, not Dru."
"But wouldn't" she didn't know how to ask this. "Wouldn't it take a while, I mean, I would never, well, I would have to really trust someone before I let them - and that would take, you'd have to know them really well. Who else?"
He didn't answer her, he was too lost in her words - 'I would really have to trust someone before I let them'.
And then she got it. She had always assumed that there was some kind of relationship there, a really heavy relationship - they hated each other too deeply for it not to have been.
"And then he left you." It wasn't a question.
"Yes, love, he did. Or rather, Angel did. Angelus had been banished when the soul was restored."
"I'm so sorry, it must have terrible for you. To lose him and then to have to put up with Darla and take care of Dru. It must have been hard for you."
Spike was touched by her concern, but amused also. "I'm a vampire, love. Evil, remember? Darla was just Darla. And Dru, well, anyone - vampire or human, who spends more than an hour with a rambling, insane Dru feels a need to look out for her, even Angelus and Darla. You would have been putty."
He didn't want to talk about those times any more, didn't want to relive that part of his unlife, not now, not in front of Willow.
"Let's go to bed."
As much as he tried to speed their pace, Willow wouldn't let him. She took control and made love to him slowly, showing just how much she valued him, how precious his love was to her.
The next night as they sat relaxing together in the tub, Willow broached the subject again.
"Spike, could you teach me?"
"Teach you what?"
"Teach me to be a like that woman, teach me to be a submissive?"
"I thought you'd never ask." he said with a smile.
Willow was growing impatient.
"Are you finished?"
"If you would hold still, I might be able to tie this bleedin' thing."
A few seconds pause.
"There."
"What is the point of this again?"
Willow, in orange jeans and neon everything t-shirt, sat on the counter of the kitchen of her parents' house. She tried to be still, she really did, but it still tickled even if Spike said he hadn't been meaning to.
It had been a week since they had watched "the movie" as she was beginning to refer to it. Spike had said he would train her, but had done nothing at all about it for seven whole days. This evening at sundown he left, only to return an hour later with a skein of yarn.
Now he said her lessons were to begin, but first he had to tie a piece of yarn around her neck. Willow knew he was pulling her leg. He had to be. 'What on earth does yarn around my neck have to do with all the yummy naughty stuff we saw in that movie?' she thought to herself as he tied.
"What is the point of this again?"
"I want to see if you have the temperament to be a submissive."
"Of course I do. I ASKED you to teach me didn't I?"
"You asked, pet, 'cause that movie made it look like fun. But there's more to this than what they showed. Taking orders isn't an easy thing if you're willful." He smiled and kissed her forehead. "And you're as willful as they come."
"I AM NOT."
"See what I mean?" he asked with a wide grin. "Don't get me wrong, pet. I LOVE the idea. I'd be right happy to just lock you up without food or water for three days, just to get you in the right frame of mind to obey me. But I don't think that's the kind of game you were talking about, now is it?"
"No."
"Okay. Lesson the first. You obey me. You do not speak unless spoken to and you do everything, and I mean everything, I tell you to do, as soon as I tell you to do it. Do you understand?" His whole bearing had changed when he started talking. He stood up straighter, his usual carefree attitude disappeared. His voice was decidedly cool when he told her she would obey him. Willow thought it was kinda sexy.
"Sure." she answered.
"NO! Not 'sure'. You will address me as 'master'. When I ask a question, you will answer with 'Yes, master'. Is that clear?"
"Sure." she answered cheerfully.
"Excuse me?" he didn't sound happy.
She really had to stop staring at his lips and pay attention. Dominance looked good on him.
"Yes, master."
"Willow," he started but her gasp made him stop. "What's wrong?" the chill was gone, replaced by concern.
"You - you never call me Willow."
He was thoughtful for a moment before he spoke. "Have you ever heard of a 'safety word'?"
"Safety word?"
"A safety word is an s&m term. When the submissive has had enough or wants relief, he uses the safety word. We're going to have our own set of words. Sort of like a code. This is a game we're playing here. It turns on and off. The yarn," he said and fingered the pink bow at her throat, "is your training collar. You'll get a more permanent one later on if you want to continue with this. Do you understand?"
"Yes, master" she said, pleased with herself that she had remembered and more pleased when she saw him smile at her words.
"When you wear this 'collar' I'll call you Willow. Not Red. While you wear this, you're a different person, not my Red. You're whoever you want to be. Just like out there in the world where Willow can be whoever she wants to be. You're doing this by choice. By your choice. If it ever gets to be too much or you can't take it or that willful streak comes surging back, just pull the string, the collar's gone and the game is done, okay?"
"Okay." A pause, then a smile. "Master."
"Good girl," he said, reaching out to cup her cheek. She leaned into his hand, happy that she had made him happy.
He lifted her at the waist and kissed her as he stood her on the floor.
"Get me a soda," he said as he walked away, leaving her standing in the middle of the kitchen.
It was on her lips to tell him to get his own soda. She looked up to see him in the doorway, looking at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips.
"Yes, master."
After an hour of servitude, which consisted mostly of back and foot massages and changing the channel on the telly, Willow was getting tired of this game. This wasn't what had happened in the movie. Just as she was about to say something - or maybe raise her hand, she wasn't sure what the protocol was - he stood.
"Turn off the telly and come into the bedroom."
This was more like it. This is what she had signed on for. She happily jumped up, grabbed the remote to shut off the tv and bounded into their bedroom. She wasn't prepared to find Spike going through her clothes.
"Go take a bath."
Willow complied with glee, this was more like it. She ran the water, spilling in more than her usual amount of bubble bath. After removing her clothes, she settled into the tub to wait for Spike.
He came in a few minutes later, grabbing her out of the tub.
"Get out" he said as he pulled the plug and drained it.
"But - but you said-" Willow began but stopped at the hard look in his eyes.
"You will obey me," he said in a voice that demonstrated his words. "I told you to take a bath, not a bubble bath. Next time you will listen more closely to what I say." His voice was cold and hard, but his fingers were gentle on her wrist and his thumb was making slow circles on her pulse point. "Do you understand?" he said much quieter.
Willow didn't like it at all, but she understood it was a test. A test to see if she could do this. He was going to push her and try to goad her into quitting. She put on her resolve face and answered, "Yes, master." The words were so much easier to say when he was rubbing her wrist like that.
When the tub drained, Spike filled it again and held her hand as she stepped in. He sat and watched her bathe, then sat on the edge and reached for the shampoo.
"Let me wash your hair."
"I thought I was supposed to wait on you," she said with a laugh, then, "Master."
"You are supposed to do anything I tell you to do and I'm telling you to let me wash your hair."
He rubbed the shampoo into her hair, and Willow found it wonderfully relaxing. His hands stroked her scalp and he purred that growly sound she loved as he worked the lather through her long tresses.
"I love your hair. The colour, the feel, it's so soft. But it's fire, like you." He spoke low, as if he were talking to himself. After working for several minutes longer than Willow usually spent, he pushed gently on her head, and she took the hint, bending her knees and sliding her backside toward the drain until her head was immersed. She shook her head a few times to wash out the shampoo then sat back up.
Spike was standing there with a towel. "Get out."
Willow dried herself off, feeling a little self-conscious to have Spike standing there watching her. When she was finished, he walked out and she followed him into the bedroom. She was dismayed to find clothes laid out.
"Get dressed."
"Are we going out?" she was severely apprehensive, and he could hear it in her voice, she didn't want to go out in public this way.
"You'll do what I tell you and not ask questions. Is that clear?" again the cold voice.
"Yes, master" she spat out, not happy, but not willing to be the one to say 'uncle'. She did decide, however, that if he took her out and embarrassed her in any way she was going to stake him at the first opportunity.
She put on the clothes he had laid out, again not liking being watched. The black miniskirt she had expected, but the black silk button down was a surprise. It wasn't even hers; it was Spike's and way too big for her. The red satin bra she had forgotten about, bought on a whim a couple of years ago but never worn. She put it on, glad it still fit, but she had for a moment hoped she had outgrown it. Oh, well. She put on the button down and rolled up the sleeves.
She was pleasantly surprised to find that he hadn't chosen her one pair of high heels for this excursion. She put on her black stockings, followed by a pair of medium-heel black leather calf-high boots.
She loved these boots, but rarely wore them; Xander had once kidded her about the suede fringe that went down the side. For someone who listened to Patsy Cline as much as he did, you wouldn't think he'd have the nerve to tease her about succumbing to the country-western craze. But he had, and it had embarrassed her so she stopped wearing them. Spike must have really had to dig down deep to find these.
When she was dressed, she turned and smiled at him, ready to go.
"Hair and makeup," he said with a smirk that dared her to say something. Doing her hair usually just meant brushing it. And makeup? He had to be kidding.
She went into the bathroom and dried her hair with the blow dryer. She hated drying it this way. Her hair was so thick that it took forever and after a while the blow dryer got hot on her skin. But she was determined to play along. After her hair was mostly dry, she looked around at her makeup. What exactly did he want her to do? Her normal made-up look was almost identical to her no makeup at all look. She had just decided to go and ask him when he rounded the corner and walked in.
He looked over her assortment of cosmetics and apparently wasn't any happier about it than she was. "Looks like it's time to hit the mall." and then forced a grin, "Never thought I'd ever have to say those words."
He walked out but Willow didn't follow him. After a moment he returned. When he saw her disheartened expression, he leaned over and untied the bow at her throat. She grabbed at it, not wanting to give up this easily.
"I'm not taking it off. I'm untying it. Now say what it is you've been wanting to say."
Tears threatened, but didn't come as she said, "Is this what you want, Spike? Is this the kind of girl you want? With the hair and the makeup and all the black clothes? Because this isn't me, I can't be this. If this is what you're looking for, I'm sorry, I'm not like this."
His arms wrapped around her. He kissed the top of her head. "Did you ever play dress-up as a kid?"
"Yes, of course."
"That's what we're doing. I'm dressing you up. I'm trying to get you to step out of yourself for once. Be a little bolder, a little less inhibited. It's okay. I love you, Red, you know that. I wouldn't have you any other way. But don't tell me you've never wondered how the other half lives. The ones that spend two hours painting on a layer of clothes. The ones that have every hair in place and every guy watching their every move."
"I could never be like that," she whispered. "I'm not that pretty for one thing."
He pulled back to hold her at arm's length and glared at her angrily. "Don't. Don't you ever. Never again, do you hear me, Red?"
He ran his hands up her arms, across her shoulders. His fingers stroked her neck and then he held her face cupped in his hands. "Never ever again." he whispered.
She shook her head, tears streaking her face. She hadn't known he felt that way, that strongly, about her. Spike thought she was like them. That's how he saw her. As pretty enough to turn heads.
As he bent to kiss her, Willow reached up and retied the bow.
"Yes, master." she whispered.
Spike took her hand, almost pulling her through the department store. When they reached the makeup counter, he found a stool and ordered Willow to sit while he went to talk to the salesgirl. After a few moments he returned, trailed by a beautiful statuesque blonde who looked like she had stepped out of a magazine. Everything about her was perfect.
"I'll be back in a while, love," he said to Willow before turning to the girl whose nametag read 'Daniele'.
"Daniele, this is Willow. We're having a disagreement. You see, I know for a fact that she's the most beautiful woman ever to walk the face of the earth - in the last century, anyway. But she doesn't believe me. Prove her wrong."
With that, he leaned over and gave Willow a quick parting kiss and left her there to the mercies of the perfect Daniele.
"Wow, where did you dig him up?" Daniele asked her with a smile as she watched Spike walk away. She took a deep breath before she pulled out her tray of sponges and brushes and added, "He's to die for."
Willow erupted into a fit of giggles. How could she answer that?
She opted to keep the obvious answers to herself, and worked instead at calming herself to prepare for the onslaught of beauty products. Makeup had never been her thing and if Spike was going to make a habit of asking her to wear it, she figured she'd better pay attention.
'Well, asking wasn't the right word. Telling would be the word', she thought to herself. 'But I asked for it when I asked him to do this. Why did I do that, anyway? Because it looked fun. I hadn't really thought about everything that went into it. So why am I still doing it?' She didn't have an answer for that, so she turned off her brain and starting listening closely to what Daniele was telling her.
Willow had never felt more exposed. She was walking through the Bronze like she had done hundreds of times before. She was on the arm of Spike, like she had been a hundred times before. She was dressed in, not really what she would have picked (too much black) but respectable clothes nonetheless.
But people were turning and staring at her. GUYS were turning and smiling at her. It felt strange; the whole evening had felt strange.
First the ordering around with the bath and the clothes. Then the impromptu shopping trip. Then Daniele had done things to her face that made her not even recognize herself. She looked more like Cordelia than she did Willow. At least she thought so. But Daniele had been pleased. And Spike, he had been, well, at first he seemed upset. Then he seemed pleased, very pleased. And then two cute guys had walked past and whistled and after Spike had growled and flashed amber eyes at them, Willow had decided that she was pleased as well.
But this? There were too many people and what if someone she knew was here? What would she say?
Spike seemed oblivious to the stares and the smiles and led Willow to a table up in the loft, back in the shadows. He told her to sit and went to get them something to drink. He didn't ask her what she wanted. So Willow sat. And waited.
When Spike returned, he handed her a drink and sat. One of Willow's favorite songs had just started and she asked Spike to dance.
"You do as your told. You don't speak unless I tell you to. Any infraction will be punished." He sounded harsh.
[Punished? What does he mean by 'punished'?] Willow decided she didn't want to find out. So she sat back and watched Spike watch the crowd at the Bronze.
Where was the guy who had told her she was beautiful? This one made all her decisions for her, even deciding what she should be drinking. What had he brought her anyway? She took a drink and found it was an amaretto and cream. Well, that was okay, she liked that. But still.
After a few seconds she decided that not having to make a decision about what to drink wasn't so bad. She always felt confused when she went out and somebody asked her what she wanted. There were too many choices and for some reason none of them ever came to her when she was asked. She always ended up just ordering the same thing that someone else had gotten. It was easier that way. Even if she didn't always like what she ended up with.
But Spike had gotten her something that she liked and she hadn't had to think up a drink off the top of her head. Maybe this one time she'd forgive him.
After a few minutes, Spike took her hand and led her to the dance floor. As they neared the stage, Spike waved a hand and instantly the song stopped and another, slower, more romantic song took its place. It was nice to have a boyfriend who knew the right people.
They danced through four songs and each one was one of Willow's favorites. When Spike led her back toward the loft, the songs changed again, back to what they had been playing before. [Oh, yeah. Definite advantages to sleeping with a master vampire.] Even if he didn't 'master' any more. Not over anyone but her anyway. Power, Willow was finding, was an aphrodisiac.
Spike seemed to sense what she was feeling and pulled her close when they resumed their seats. He kissed her neck and held her hand. Then he put her hand in his lap and whispered in her ear that he wanted her to give him a hand job under the table.
Willow couldn't believe it. I mean, they were in public. In a dark, lofty corner of the public, but still the public. And, well, under the table, and probably no one would see, but still - public.
Well, maybe.
She looked quickly around as her hand moved to the bulge in his pants. No one seemed to be paying any attention to them. Maybe just a little massage.
Soon Spike's pants were straining and still no one was looking. Willow reached her other hand over and quickly undid the buttons on his jeans, then resumed her bored expression. So far, so good.
A glance at Spike showed her that he was really enjoying her foray into displays of public affection. Maybe this wasn't so bad. Just a little hand job, couldn't hurt, could it?
Willow sat there, stroking Spike's swelling erection, listening to his almost imperceptible moans, and after a while she forgot to keep looking around to make sure no one was watching. She kept her eyes on Spike. She loved the thrill she got knowing that she was making him feel this way. She was causing those moans and sighs. She put that sparkle in his eyes.
She was merciless. She pumped him until he came and then she pumped him a little more. Smug vampire. That'll teach you. She wasn't sure what it would teach him exactly. Until he refastened his pants and stood, giving her a peck on the cheek and saying, "Be right back, Willow." His first step was a little shaky. That would teach him.
She had made it the whole night without running into anyone she knew. Spike had been amused by her excessive enthusiasm when he said they were leaving.
When they arrived home, Spike's first 'order' had been to go take a shower and wash off all that 'stuff' on her face. Seemed a shame he didn't like something he had paid all that money for. Not to mention the time she had spent learning how to apply all the 'stuff' he had bought.
Willow took her shower, expecting Spike to join her like he usually did, but after a while it was apparent that she was going to be alone. When she finished she dried herself and wandered back to their bedroom, eagerly anticipating the coming night.
This is where she knew what was expected of her. On this, the movie had been very explicit. Spike was waiting for her and told her to climb in bed while he showered.
She settled in, enjoying the warmth and the feel of the silk on her skin. She had been disturbed at first, when Spike had insisted that they have only silk sheets for their bed. She thought the price alone would give her a coronary. But then she had felt them and slept on them, and thanked Spike for not listening to her.
She laid waiting for him; listening to the water run, then stop. She heard him get a towel and brush his teeth. She couldn't wait to see what wickedly delicious things Spike had thought up for their first night playing this game.
Spike turned off the lights and slid in beside her. Then he whispered, "Night, Willow. Sweet dreams." kissed her, and pulled her close as if to sleep.
"But - but, Spike aren't we going to -"
"Go to sleep, Willow."
Well this just sucked. Big time. Major suckage. She reached up to her throat to untie the yarn bow, but Spike stilled her hand. "No. You sleep with it tonight. I want you to know you belong to me as you fall asleep."
Well, maybe not entire suckage. Belonging was nice. She wrapped herself around Spike and fell asleep soon after. Spike waited until he felt her heartbeat slow and her breathing become even before he reached over, untied the bow and pulled the yarn from her neck.
He wanted her to feel like she belonged to him. But he didn't want her to choke in her sleep. He kissed her nose and fell asleep beside her.