Buffy The Vampire Slayer: Spike's Revenge

Buffy sat in the cafeteria through second period. She observed the sweat forming along the back of her wrist. A perusal, before school, of the library's collection of vampire lore revealed nothing of the spell possessing her, but she knew she wasn't as talented at unearthing relevant information as Giles or Willow. Spike had made it painfully clear that her new condition was not to be shared with her friends.

And what Spike said was the way it would be.

She thought of him and felt an unnatural intoxication pulse through her blood. She could tell the emotion was artificial, a fraud, but whatever it was that held her at bay was the most motherfucking stunning high she had ever felt, and she knew on every level of her being that she wasn't strong enough to let that high go. The spell was part of her cell structure. It was part of her soul.

"Buff?"

She shook herself out of her reverie and met the eyes of Cordelia.

"Buffy, are you on something? I mean, really, I lower myself to call your name and you don't even respond." Cordeila pushed her hair back over her shoulders. Her eyes lit up like an interested cat. "Don't get much sleep when you stay up all night making out with vampires."

"What are you saying?" Buffy asked. She stood, gathering her books, and let her eyes dart from one side of the room to the other. No one was within hearing distance.

"Your stupid boyfriend, Angel, you know." Cordelia peered a little closer into Buffy's eyes. "You ok?" she asked.

"I'm...I'm fine." she replied. Angel. Him. She had forgotten. "I've got to go, Cordelia. See ya." She hurried off through the swinging doors. Every step towards the computer lab filled her with sublime, teasing pleasure.

Cordelia shrugged. It's not like Buffy didn't act strangely on a daily basis anyway.

Jenny Calendar had the eyes of a doe and the cheekbones of a goddess. She sat in front of a computer screen wearing a long white sweater and black jeans. She was working through a Romanian spellbook designed to make her job, as the watcher of Angelus, easier to complete, when Buffy walked in and sat down close.

"What's up, Buff?" Jenny asked, flicking off the screen and saving the last of the material onto disk.

"Nothing....um...actually, I need your help."

Don't do this. A voice called out from Buffy's soul. Don't do it.

"I need someone to help check out a weird little house in the cemetery tonight. I don't want to scare Giles, so I don't want to tell him. It's got writing that looks Romanian on it. I thought maybe you could translate."

It's too easy. It's too easy to lie.

Jenny picked up her jacket. "Sure, whatever. Right after sundown ok? I was thinking of hitting the clubs later."

"That'll be fine. Meet me at the gate." Buffy smiled as Jenny hurried off to her next class. She trusts me. She has no idea what boils in my blood. Why does it feel so good to lead her into such a trap? She shuddered. Spike's blood pulsing through me. He's part of me now. She slid her hand down to her taut stomach. I wonder how long the gestation period is for vampires?

Buffy Summers laughed out loud.

"It's somewhere over here."

Jenny Calender inspected the wall close to where her friend had pointed. She pulled out a magnifier and inspected the writing.

"Buffy, that's Latin, not Romanian. It's just some names."

Buffy looked at her watch, then to the west. A last trail of red horizon played itself out. A rustling through the trees nearby startled a nightbird. She didn't move.

"Let's go inside. There's more in there." She took Jenny by the hand and led her into an open courtyard at the center of the structure.

Ms. Calendar looked up at the moon, then around at the open space. In another setting it would make a great satanic patio. An altar, like a raised park bench, occupied the bulk of the area. A stone chair, a throne, really, sat off to the left. A small fire burned at its foot.

"Buffy...do you see that?" Jenny whispered, pointing to the embers.

"Yeah, I do..." she replied, stretching, then looking into the shadows. "Are you here?" she asked the shadows.

"Is who here?" Jenny said. She flicked her flashlight into the darkness and met a pair of glowing red eyes.

"Giles?" she whispered, weakly.

"Master." Buffy corrected, as she slipped the handcuffs over the gypsy's wrists and clicked them shut. With one swift movement the Slayer threw Jenny into the dust before the fire. Ashes powdered the air, then settled again. The wind blew from Jenny's lungs at the ground's impact.

A long, cackling laugh emenated from the doorway, followed by footsteps, bootheels, on concrete. Spike approached the fire and lit a cigarette from a coal.

"You have really outdone yourself, Slayer. Wonderful work."

"Thank you, Master." Buffy whispered.

"You really have. And didn't it feel good? Didn't you feel the rush of secrecy, the lure you used on this pretty little gypsy?"

"It felt...delicious..." Buffy said...her eyes almost glazed over.

"There is no denying your blood." Spike said, kissing the mother of his growing child. "Get changed. There is something for you on the altar."

Buffy automatically pulled her jacket and t-shirt off. Buffy seemed as comfortable with her unclothed form as a wife in front of a husband. She was braless. She just knew that was the right way. After slipping off her jeans, she began to dress. When she was finished, she stood next to her Lord wearing a long black silk dress and silver earrings in the shape of fangs. She kissed him as the gypsy began caught her breath.

"What did you do to her?" she whispered, as she watched the Slayer rub Spike's shoulders.

"Nothing, dear Jenny. A transfusion of sorts."

"The blood....the mirror and the blood. You didn't..." Jenny almost fainted. A powerful vampire spell. Another thought, almost too horrible to consider, entered her mind.

"Don't bother asking, gypsy. Yes, she's pregnant." Spike said. Buffy responded by placing her Lord's hand on her womb.

"Buffy," Jenny whispered, "Listen to me. You have to fight it. You have to be strong. You can break free."

"And ignore her dark side?" Spike laughed. "You're dirty with evil, gypsy. You should talk. You wouldn't be able to break free either, and by the time I'm done with you, you'll be apologizing for ever suggesting such a thing."

The vampire nodded to the Slayer. Buffy reached down into the fire and took out a glowing brand. The burning end was orange hot, the shape of two fangs over a strange rune.

"That...that's not supposed to work..." Jenny whispered, trying to crawl backwards.

"It doesn't work when a vampire uses it, Calendar," Spike laughed. "Don't get soft on me now. I appreciate a victim who knows her stuff. But when a human says the spell and handles the brand in the name of a vampire, the victim's soul becomes my property all the same."

Buffy reached down and unzipped Jenny's jeans, her eyes half-closed, gentle Latin incantations falling from her lips. Jenny could feel the first tinges of the spell. A strange-lightheadedness set in as the Slayer exposed the gypsy's ass.

"Don't do it, Buffy. Please don't." she whispered.

I'm sor..." Buffy began, then giggled.

"Such beautiful olive skin," Spike whispered, almost to himself. "It'll be a shame to mark it."

Buffy's eyes turned black as she let the brand melt the gypsy's skin. A scream set the birds toward the moon.

"Master, these are the ones you want to burn." Jenny Calendar stood above a pile of dusty books on her living room floor. "These are the ones to dispel or otherwise hurt your kind."

"Thank you, Jenny." Spike said, failing to look up from the tome he was inspecting. The very spell he had just used was outlined. The Slayer was between his legs, softly but vigorously serving his cock, one hand on his shaft and the other gently tweaking his testicles. Her dress was in a pile on the floor. Spike continued to read, his concentration waning with the Slayer's increasing speed. The victim would feel an almost tangible shift of perception. She would, quite naturally, feel a total allegiance to the one who's mark had touched her. She would act no differently than before, retain all of her previous memories, but everything would just make more sense now. Her soul would belong to him and her mind could think of nothing that did not inherently serve his purpose.

Jenny tossed the books, one by one, into the fire. Irreplacable gypsy safety spells. When she was finished, she sat on the edge of the vampire's chair and peered over his shoulder.

"What are you reading, Lord?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing important, love..." Spike replied. He pointed to the fire and watched as Jenny burned the last of her chances away.

"Come here, Jenny." he whispered. "Hold on a second...." he braced himself and shot a furious load into the slayer's mouth. She was under orders to swallow. When she was finished, Buffy stood and left on patrol. She would help the hungry vampires entice new victims into their reach.

Jenny sat on the vampire's lap like an affectionate girlfriend.

"You're a gypsy, right, slave?" Spike asked.

"Yes, Master," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair.

"I want you to start acting like one. Like a stereotypical gypsy whore. I want you in long flowing dresses, gaudy earrings, and no shoes. In the movies Gypsies like to steal, right? You're to become a petty thief now. Maybe we'll even change your name. I'll think about it."

Jenny was undressed by the time he was finished speaking. She kicked the clothes into the fire and sat back on his lap, careful to leave enough room to reach his manhood. She began to slowly work it back into hardness.

A slave knowledgable of gypsy curses on my side. Spike laughed. And a total fucking babe to boot. He casually fingered her until she began to sweat and shudder under his touch. He started to rise up when she whispered, "Let me do the work, Master."

She slid onto his cock and let out a short sharp moan. The candles burned in her eyes and the shadows played on her dusky skin. The vampire tussled her hair and ran his fingers across her breasts. She slowly, carefully ran up and down him with her tight thighs. Sweat plastered his hair against her shoulders and she adored him with those gorgeous eyes.

"Jenny..." Spike whispered, "I have enemies. You occasionally date one. Giles."

The gypsy shuddered. "Master, I'll slit his throat at the snap of your fingers." she whispered.

"Good girl. But I don't think that'll be necessary just yet. I need you in other capacities. Prepare Buffy's mother into my service. I can't have her complaining when Buffy's womb starts to show, which, you know, will be soon. Vampire's gestate quickly."

"Of course, Lord." she whispered, and placed his hand on the soft part of her tummy. "Can I be of service in that way?"

"Two vampire children? Well, why the hell not?" Spike said. Niether spoke for the next few minutes as Jenny used her own muscles, her own body, to draw the vampire child into her womb. The climax was intense in its own quiet. Jenny felt his right hand on her brand as he coated her walls with his seed. She slid off, left the room, and returned in a long, loose red dress, hoop earrings, and a black babooshka. She wore no shoes.

"You know what I could use, slave? A new leather jacket. Acquire one for me. Don't pay." The thief slave laughed as she adjusted her hair and slid out the door into the night. Moments later Buffy dragged a gagged, crying teenage girl into the apartment. The girl was no one she knew, just some unlucky soul walking home from the library.

"Dinner, Master," the Slayer called with a laugh.