Lessons in Control
Chapter Two: Submissives Make the Best Masters
Willow pulled the drain from the sink and turned on the water to rinse the suds from her hands. The dishes were done; the kitchen was clean. Nothing else to do for the rest of the night. She had even finished studying for her chem exam. She closed her eyes just for a second and relaxed her shoulders. She couldn’t remember the last time she had absolutely nothing to do. Not even research a big bad. The only big bad she wanted to think about was…
She opened her eyes was startled to find a pink string hanging right in front of her face. No, not a string - yarn. Oh, yeah. Definitely want to think about this big bad.
"You up for it, pet?" came the whisper in her left ear. It was amazing that a creature that didn’t generate his own body heat could make her this hot just by standing a few inches behind her. There had to be a loophole in that generating heat thing. She’d research it tomorrow.
"Oh, yeah."
She leaned back against Spike’s chest and closed her eyes, relaxing into him. She felt his fingers deftly tying the bow around her throat. She couldn’t wait to see what was in store for her tonight. She let the vague thought flit through her brain that an orgasm better be in there somewhere before she tossed it out, trusting in Spike to make the experience memorable, no matter what happened.
"Take off all your clothes."
"Yes, master." she said automatically, remembering the requisite response. It wasn’t until after she had said it however, that what he had said actually registered and a big smile formed on her lips as she said again, "Yes, master" and reached up to unbutton her blouse.
Spike jumped up onto the kitchen counter and reclined sideways, cocking his elbow and resting his head on his hand. Her first instinct was to tell him to get his feet off the counters, but the tickle at the hollow of her throat reminded her that she had agreed to do as he asked, everything he asked, everything he commanded. No talking back. There were pros and cons to everything. She resolved that if the pros didn’t start outweighing the cons, this piece of pink yarn was going to be fed to the trash compactor.
She decided that if she was expected to put on a show for him, she was going to do it right. She stepped over to the boom box sitting on the island and pushed play. ‘Gett Off’ by NPG starting blaring and Willow let the rhythm guide her. By the end of the first chorus, Willow was completely naked and Spike had spread her before him on the counter like a buffet.
'Fuck the cons' was her only thought before Spike’s mouth and hands claimed her body.
"Willow."
Something was intruding on her lust-filled fog, but she couldn’t get her mind around what it was.
"Willow."
Wait, where are all the delicious sensations of tongue, lips and fingers?
"Willow!"
"Um, yes?" she thought she was expected to answer but she wasn’t really sure.
"Do you remember the first lesson?"
"Yes, master." she sighed. She was expected to think too? First lesson: Obey Spike.
"This is for me. I want to enjoy you. Your body is here for my pleasure, not yours. I have a yen to taste you and you have to last as long as I do. That means you’re not allowed to cum until I tell you you’re allowed. Do you understand?"
He must be kidding.
"You’re kidding."
"No, Willow. You will not cum until I allow it. If you do, you will be punished. Do you understand?"
Punished? Punished how? She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.
"Um, okay. Master."
"Good girl."
Since he wasn’t worried about warming her up, he went right for his favorite part of her body. His mouth enveloped her center and the flat of his tongue slowly worked its way from her hole up to her clit. Then he started at the bottom again only this time he let the tapered edge of his tongue slide inside her channel.
She wasn’t allowed to come!? Is he kidding?! He's going to do this - like THIS - and I'm not allowed to come?! What to do?
Think! Think. Think about - anything! Anything ELSE!
What?!
Chemistry! Chemistry test! What was on her chemistry test? What was on her chemistry test? She couldn’t even picture the textbook.
THINK! Blue! The book is blue. Goddess, he knows how much I like that! A moan escaped her throat and she felt a sharp slap on her backside.
"No. You’re here for my enjoyment, not your own. Be quiet."
He had slapped her! He had actually slapped her! How dare he! She was about to get indignant when she felt his tongue slip inside her once again. She loved to be tongue fucked. Another moan.
Another slap. Harder this time. "Bad!"
She would have got indignant. She really would liked to have gotten a nice outrage going. But she couldn’t help but notice that when he smacked her this time, her insides squirmed. And when he called her ‘bad’ she had gotten wetter. Much wetter. And the smug vampire knew it. She could feel him smiling against her. And Goddess, it felt good.
What was wrong with her? Nice girls didn’t do this! They didn’t like to get smacked. They didn’t like to be given orders and be told they were ‘bad’.
Did they?
Of course not. Something was wrong with her. She's a good girl. She's a nice girl. She doesn’t go in for spanking and - and - talking dirty. Does she?
Only one way to find out.
"Oooh, mmmmm."
SPANK!
I guess I do!
"Obviously, you want to be punished. Get dressed."
What?! Punished? Get dressed? He was lifting her off the counter. He wasn’t licking or sucking or…
"Get - get dressed?"
"Yes, Willow. Get dressed."
"Are - are - are we going out?"
"Yes, Willow."
"Um, where?"
"It’s not for you to question. You do what your master tells you and I told you to get dressed."
She did as he said. Her lust-addled brain took four times longer than usual, but she did get dressed.
He helped her into her coat and took her hand and led her outside to his motorcycle. As he got her helmet for her, he informed her of their destination.
"You need to be punished and I don’t have the proper equipment for it. We’re going to LA"
Willow’s mind was ablaze.
What does he mean - he doesn’t have the proper equipment? What equipment? What exactly have I gotten myself into?
She thought, several thousand times, of tapping Spike on the shoulder and asking him, she really did. But she had promised to play by the rules and as long as she was wearing the ‘collar’, the rule was to obey Spike.
She spent the first one hour and thirty-six minutes of the one hour and forty-five minute trip worrying about what was going to happen. Then she had an epiphany.
She loved Spike. Well, that she already knew. And Spike loved her. Also, something she already knew. Spike would never hurt her. Again, a given. But the epiphany came when she put these three facts together. No matter what happened, no matter what instruments of torture he deigned to buy, Spike would never truly hurt her.
She exhaled deeply and relaxed for the last nine minutes of the ride.
Until they were driving down Wilshire and she saw the doors of The Pleasure Chest. It was then that she remembered that Spike was a vampire and his pain threshold was in a different league than hers entirely.
And Angelus? His idea of pleasure/pain had been in another galaxy. And Angelus had taught Spike…
Spike felt her body tense. Not just tense, harden. She had pulled her whole body back and away from him; her arms curling in, hands grabbing the fabric of the opposite shoulder’s sleeve and fisting into tight balls.
He pulled the bike onto the sidewalk at Fairfax and stopped. A cop walked up as he was removing his helmet, but he didn’t have time to argue with the wanker so he momentarily flashed the guy with ridged forehead and amber eyes. The cop turned tail and ran. He didn’t understand why everyone said there was a parking problem in LA.
He turned back to Willow and pulled her rigid form off the bike. When she didn’t respond to him, he removed her helmet and looked into blank eyes that didn’t look back. She seemed to have withdrawn into herself.
He hadn’t meant to scare her. Doesn’t she understand that this is just a game? He would never really - well, not anything she didn’t enjoy anyway. Pain could be a good thing. A great thing. Angelus had taught him that. Angelus had - Oh, shit. He would bet his undusty corpse that her mind had gone down exactly the same road.
Doesn’t she trust me? Does she actually think I would be anything like Angelus? With her?
They had been together almost a year. They had been living together for eight months. They had known each other for over four years. Although, when they first met, he had been trying to kill her and her friends. And then he had kidnapped her and Chubs. But even then, he had been attracted to her. He thought he had made that clear at the time.
Then, the following year, hadn’t he offered to turn her? Keep her with him forever? He had intended to kill the Slayer that night, hadn’t thought of Red at all. But when he saw her sitting on the bed in her dorm, he remembered how much he had wanted her. Pushed all thoughts of the bloody Slayer right out of his mind, and not even Dru had been able to do that.
If it wasn’t for the friggin’ chip, she would be a vampire now.
So maybe the chip had been a good thing, at least that once. But he was still glad it was gone. He liked her warm and willing. He loved that she had come to him when she was still human. He would turn her eventually. They had talked about it; it had been her decision. Well, she thought it was. He had planned on turning her either way; but he was confident in his powers of persuasion. But then one day, out of the blue, she had asked him to do it. She had been researching a way to keep her soul, and as soon as she had found the spell, she had asked him. Like he would have said no?
But that was in the future. Right now, she was human. And humans had limitations. They could only take so much pain. Did she think he didn’t know that?
He grabbed one end of the pink yarn and tugged. The bow came undone and he slipped the yarn into his pocket. If she didn’t trust him now, she would by the time he was done.
He took her hand and led her entranced body into The Pleasure Chest. He led her over to the racks of whips and floggers and told her to pick out a few she liked. He left her there and went to look at their selection of collars and leashes.
It took a while, but eventually her hand crept out and she ran her fingertips down the length of a soft rabbit flogger. He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Breathing had been a habit he had picked up after sleeping with her. He would hold her as she slept and he found himself unconsciously breathing in and out in time with her breathes. It got to be such a habit that he did it now even when she wasn’t around.
He put his full attention to the display of collars and eventually settled on a black leather one with a gold heart shaped charm attached to the ring in the front. The leather bands of the collar were affixed to the ring, which would lay flat against her neck. It was perfect. Adventurous and feminine, like her.
A glance at Willow assured him that she was relaxing a little. She had the rabbit flogger in her hand and was now looking at a sturdier purple suede one. He knew letting her choose would be the right thing to do. At least, he had hoped it would. He was chuffed that he had been right. He hadn’t come up with a backup plan.
Next, he put his attention toward finding a leash. This choice was obvious. His eye instantly settled on a thin purple length adorned with rhinestones. She loves purple. Just the job. He paid for both and went outside to stash them in the locked compartment of the bike.
When he joined her in the store, she was holding both the rabbit flogger and the purple suede one and was now perusing the choice of whips. He left her to it and moved farther down the wall to check out the chains and other restraining equipment. Maybe a little too much for her just now. He settled on some handcuffs wrapped in fur. The other could wait.
When she had settled on an exceptional bullwhip of braided black leather, Spike decided that she might have a knack for this after all. Maybe he’d let her dominate him one night. Once he taught her how.
Their purchases made, they went back out into the cool LA night. Spike had something else he wanted to do in LA, but he had to work up the courage to explain it to Red. They walked hand in hand down Wilshire Blvd., browsing in the windows, watching the crazies that inhabited the streets, making up stories about the other people walking along.
It was nearing midnight when Spike finally said that he wanted to stop by and see Angel. Willow froze and stiffened. "I - I don’t think - not tonight, okay? Maybe next time?"
"It’s okay, pet. He won’t hurt you."
"He won’t hurt me either," he added when he saw her look. "This is something I need to do."
She nodded, but didn’t say anything else. The short ride was made in silence. He had to practically drag her through the doors of the Hyperion, but she relaxed a little when a smiling Angel welcomed her with an affectionate hug.
p>Spike maneuvered them all into Angel’s office and for a few minutes small talk about the health and activities of their friends in Sunnydale and LA cajoled her into forgetting the reason for their visit.
A lull in the conversation was Spike’s opening.
"Peaches, I need you to do me a favor."
Angel’s grin momentarily flashed then disappeared. This was an old game. "And why should I do anything for you, childe?"
"Because, Sire," and Angel had a feeling he wasn’t going to like whatever Spike was about to say. Spike never called him ‘Sire’. Never. "Red and I need to talk to Angelus."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me, Peaches. Red and I need to talk to Angelus."
He couldn’t be serious. "Why?"
Willow thought she would die of mortification when Spike slowly pulled the piece of pink yarn out of his pocket and held it up in front of Angel. Or maybe she just hoped she would die. She hid her excessively flushed face behind her hands.
Because she wasn’t looking, she missed the horrified look that crossed Angel’s face before he couldn’t meet Spike’s eyes any more and ducked his head.
"You - You told her!" Angel screamed before he overcame his annoyance and shot out of his seat to grab Spike by the throat. He easily lifted him off the floor and held him pinned to the wall.
Spike knocked Angel’s arm away and hastened to explain. "I didn’t tell her anything. The girl’s not stupid. We’re vampires, remember? She figured it out for herself."
Angel’s guilty face passed quickly to Willow. He sat once again and pulled his chair up in front of her. As gently as he could, he took her hands and pulled them from her face. "Willow."
She shyly peeked up at him.
"Willow, it’s not like you think." At Spike’s groan, he decided honesty was probably the best way to go. "Okay, it is what you think, but that’s not me anymore. I’m not like that now, you know that."
"That’s not what I’m trying to explain to her Peaches."
The older vampire’s anger at being in this situation was evident when he turned on Spike and yelled, "Then what was the point, Spike? Horror stories around a campfire? What? What was the point to scaring her? I thought you loved her? And why do you still have that anyway? That can’t be the same one, can it?"
"No, you poof, this isn’t the same one, it isn’t even the right color." He rolled his eyes and decided to get back to the point. "I do love her. You know that. She knows that. The whole bloody world knows that. This one’s hers," he said, indicating the yarn in his hand.
He wasn’t prepared to be pinned against the wall once again, this time facing Angel’s demon face and fangs.
"What did you say, boy?"
"Angel, stop," Willow screamed, pulling him away from Spike. "It is, it’s mine." She was terrified, Angelus was too fresh in her mind, but she couldn’t let him hurt Spike.
The fangs retracted as he turned a human face back to her. "Why? Willow, what’s going on?"
"It - it’s - it was -" but she couldn’t finish, so Spike took over.
"It’s for fun, Peaches. I’m not hurting her. She asked to do this."
Angel was confused. "Willow?" It had never occurred to him that Willow would go in for something like that.
"Yes, Willow." Spike’s voice was louder than he had intended, so he restrained his ire and spoke more calmly. "There’s nothing wrong with it, Peaches. Don’t you dare make her think there is."
"No! No, I didn’t mean -," but Angel wasn’t sure exactly what to say.
"Look, I wouldn’t have brought you into this at all," the blond continued, "but your name came up. Or rather, Angelus’ name came up. This is too bloody confusing. Angel slash Angelus, you’re still the same stupid git, no matter what you call yourself. But that’s not why we’re here."
Angel hoped that the point was coming soon, he didn’t want to have to kill Spike in front of Willow.
"Angelus taught me about submission. He taught me about pain. Red seems to think I might have learned my lessons a little too well."
"Spike, I never said -" Willow interrupted, but Spike continued.
"You didn’t have to." he answered her. "Angel, I want Red to talk to Angelus." Angel threw him a ‘not-for-you-not-even-for-Willow-would-I-lose-my-soul-again look. "Not like that." Spike groaned. "Pretend, wanker. You do remember Angelus, don’t you? Ugly, ‘bout your height, but without the hair gel? Mean son of a bitch? My sire?"
Angel was starting to understand. He didn’t like it, but he understood. Spike wanted to prove to Willow that he was nothing like Angelus. That he wouldn’t hurt her as Angelus had hurt Spike.
"What do want to know?" The question was directed at Willow.
"I don’t know," Willow started. "I’m not sure. I don’t really think - I mean, I know Spike would never hurt me, not on purpose anyway. But I’m not a vampire. I don’t have vampire healing or -"
Angel stood and took her hand. He didn’t like this; never in a million years would he have ever imagined having this conversation with this girl. But he knew he had to. Her desires were perfectly normal, he knew that.
"Willow, come with me." He led her back into his apartment. As they walked, he said, "Willow, I think what you and Spike have in mind, it’s not the same thing - not the same thing that Angelus did." He hated asking, but he knew there was no other way to calm her fears. "Has he spanked you yet?" He couldn’t look at her as he said it, and she couldn’t answer him, so Spike did it for her.
"Yes."
"Did you like it?" It was said so softly that she almost didn’t hear him. She was so ashamed, she just turned her face away.
"Yes," came Spike’s reply.
Angel turned and held her. It was the only way he could think of to make her understand that it okay for her to enjoy it, that he understood and didn’t think less of her for it. With the added bonus that he couldn’t look at her face when he spoke. He thought she might just faint if she had to look him in the eye.
"There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Willow. What two people do when they’re alone is nobody’s business but theirs. If you both like it, it’s right, no matter what it is, no matter what anyone else would say. I think you’re very brave to be open to new things like this. I don’t imagine this is something your parents indulged in."
He felt her giggle before he heard it. He pulled back and looked at her. She did look at him finally, if only through a shy lift of her head.
"It’s all right. Really. No one will think less of you, Willow. And if they do, they’ll have to answer to me," he kidded and got a big smile in return.
"I don’t plan on telling anyone," she said. "I didn’t even plan on telling you." The grim face returned and he sat her on a chair by the desk in his room.
"I know. But it was necessary. I want to show you something." He moved into a closet and after a few curses and a lot of sounds shifting objects, he returned with a locked wooden trunk.
"Angelus! I didn’t know you still cared!" was Spike’s amazed retort when he saw the box.
"I don’t Spike. Stuff it." Angel opened the box, but didn’t say anything as he pulled out the contents and laid them one by one on the floor at Willow’s feet.
Willow was aghast. Tears overflowed as she looked at the instruments of torture that Angel was displaying for her. Chains. Barbed wire. Shackles with rows of deep scratches that looked suspiciously like four parallel fingernails had made them. Leather straps with sharp studs in them. Razor blades. Knives. A mace. Something that looked like a blindfold, but it couldn’t be because there were sharp metal points sticking out - you couldn’t put that over your eyes, it would…
Her hand reached out to touch it. She thought of the soft rabbit fur flogger. The handcuffs Spike had bought that were covered so the metal wouldn’t mark her skin.
She ran her hand over the barbed wire. She touched the edge of a knife. It was no longer sharp, but she could see dried blood on it and knew that once it had been used to cut someone. Spike. Angelus had used these on Spike.
She couldn’t help it. She flew at Angel, punching him with all of her might as she cried. As she screamed at him for his cruelty. Spike ran to pull her off, but Angel stopped him. He wanted her anger. He knew he deserved it. He had done everything that she had imagined. He had done worse than what she imagined.
When she finally collapsed in tears at his feet, he knelt next to her and held her. "I know, little one. I know. It was everything you think it was and more. Angelus was cruel."
Spike lifted an eyebrow. "Angelus?"
He hated Spike. He hated what he was implying. But he knew it was true. Soul or no soul, Angelus and Angel were both inside him. "I was cruel, all right? I was cruel. I would never do that, not now, not with the soul. I couldn’t. But once, yes. Once - before, I did. I can’t apologize for it, little one. There is no apology that would cover it. But it’s over. It will never happen again."
Willow’s tears had become slurpy little hiccups. "Then why - why do you still have all of this?"
He didn’t know how to explain. Not in a way she would understand. So he directed his answer to Spike. "Because I don’t want to forget. And not just to punish myself. You may not like it, you may not understand. But Sp- but my childer, both of them, came to enjoy these things. Vampires - well, vampires need their pain to be a little more intense than humans do. If they want to find pleasure in it. My childer liked what I did to them, every once in a while I did give them a feeling of rapture." Brown eyes focused very intently on blue ones. "And I want to remember that."
Spike turned away; he walked back into the hall. No way was he going to cry, not in front of the poof.
Willow reached a hand up to stroke Angel’s cheek. "I do understand, Angel." She kissed his cheek tenderly, sweetly. "I understand completely."
She stood and put all of the items back into the box and secured the lock. She hugged Angel once more before she followed Spike into the hall. She picked up the yarn and started to walk over to Spike but she heard his muffled sob, so she walked into the apartment once more and asked Angel to tie the yarn around her throat.
He obliged with a smile and patted her on the fanny and sent her back to his childe. She took his hand and they walked out of the hotel without looking back.
The emotional exhaustion was too much for Willow. She fell asleep on the trip back to Sunnydale, and was still asleep when Spike carried her into the house and lay her on the sofa. She finally awoke when she heard the door close. Spike was leaving? Just as her foggy brain registered enough to allow her to stand, he returned, carrying the bags from The Pleasure Chest.
He smiled when he saw her rubbing her eyes. "How you feeling?"
"Tired, but better. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted -"
He waved a hand. "It’s all right, Red. It would have been strange if you hadn’t wondered. I can’t say it was my favorite way to spend the evening, but I’m glad it’s out. I’m glad you know. I wasn’t hiding it from you; it just wasn’t the kind of sweet nothings I thought you’d want whispered in your ear."
His smile brought on hers. She felt her energy restoring. "I feel a second wind coming on. Wanna go to bed?" she asked with a mischievous grin and a raised eyebrow.
He met her grin and eyebrow and raised the ante with a tilt of his head. "I still owe you a spanking."
Very slowly she unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off her hips. She never took her eyes from his as she stepped out of them and threw them over her shoulder. Then she very primly turned her back to him, and bent forward until her hands rested on the sofa cushion. His last thought before he reached into the bag for the rabbit flogger was that he had never had a bum presented to him more sweetly.
He moved toward her so slowly that Willow had to twist her head to make sure he was still in the room with her. When she saw his eyes, hot, dark and full of desire, focused on the part of her that she had offered to him, she felt a tingling heat spread from her core. Another glance in his direction and warm wet rivulets were making their way down her thighs. His strengthened sense of smell informed him of her advanced state of ardor while he was still several feet away. He was determined to make it last. He wanted to show her just how much pleasure a little pain could bring.
He backtracked to the spot where he had dropped the bag and pulled out the purple suede lash as well. He moved toward her more quickly this time, he didn’t want to give her the chance to turn around and ruin his surprise.
Willow felt the soft fur rub against her back. With slow easy strokes, Spike was letting her get used to the feel and texture of the whip’s strands. As he glided the fur along her spine, his hand traced the contours of her derriere, absorbing the warmth and softness of her taut skin. Willow let out a soft moan.
He continued to let her get comfortable with the gentle movements for a few more moments. Then he raised the flogger high and brought it down with a sharp crack against her ass. Her shocked gasp was cut short when she felt the sting instantly softened by Spike’s gentle caresses.
The heat between her thighs increased and she spread her feet a little further apart. Again he smacked her sharply with the whip and quickly soothed the sting with his hands.
Willow’s knees got a little weak and she bent them quickly then straightened again, this time with her legs spread even farther. When the whip hit the third time, her position caused the ends of several strands to curl under and strike against her clit. The sensation was so exhilarating she almost didn’t want Spike to follow up and soothe the pain. Almost.
He dropped the rabbit flogger and picked up the purple suede one. It was stiffer and would hurt just a little more. The first slap was a shock but a pleasurable one. Each time he struck, he would shorten the amount of time he spent calming her afterward. After a few more hits, Willow shrugged off his hand.
She felt him rub his palm down her backside and follow the contours of her body until her was cupping her pussy. One finger slid into her slit to rub against her clit before he pushed it deep inside of her. Another finger followed it. Once again, she felt the welcome bite of the whip. That’s all it took for her to come around his fingers.
Without pulling out of her, he settled the lash on her back momentarily while he freed himself from the restraint of his jeans. The moment his cock was unobstructed, he pulled out his fingers and thrust up into her, this time filling her more fully than his fingers ever could.
When he felt her body shudder, he brought the whip down on her backside with three successive blows, each one bringing him closer to the edge. The first made her inner walls grab him with an inescapable grip. The second and he felt his balls contract and harden and the third sent both Willow and himself into an explosive climax.
Willow couldn’t catch her breath. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t breath. She thought she might die. She had never felt anything like that. Spike had been a fantastic lover, he had made her come in ways she never thought possible. She had had orgasms of such intensity in the past that it had made her cry.
But this was just - indescribable. Out of this world. Mind-blowing.
The whip had hurt. It really had. But the pain only made the pleasure that much sweeter.
She felt Spike’s arms wrap around her. She felt herself being lifted and turned until he was sitting and she was in his lap. She felt his lips on her neck and her cheek. She heard him saying that he loved her and how wonderful he thought she was. But none of it really registered.
She was still numb to everything except the euphoria flowing through every nerve in her body.
She knew the science. She knew it was endorphins. She knew there was a chemical reason for everything she had felt in the last few minutes.
But she also knew, despite what her brain was trying to tell her, that she had experienced something science didn’t understand.
Her body - and her heart - had reached a place that was spiritual. Spike had taken her to a place where no physical being could live. She didn’t understand it. How could experiencing pain do this to her? Then she remembered something Angel had said. He said that he had made his childer experience rapture. And she hadn’t understood what he had meant.
Until now.