If It Pleases You

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Buffy woke up gradually. She had been dreaming about Willow again. This time, with Tara too — no surprise there, not after last night’s sexual escapades. Buffy had fallen asleep entangled in the embrace of her two new lovers, still a little shell shocked at the sudden evolution of their relationship from best friends to “orgasm buddies.” ‘Okay, I so don’t need Anya-vocabulary in my head,’ she thought, amused at the phrasing.

She came fully awake to find herself sandwiched with Tara spooned against her back, and Willow’s ass cradled in her lap. She could feel Tara snoring gently into her hair, and her own face was buried in a tousled mass of red. Wet red. “Oh, sorry, Wil. Buffy-drool,” she whispered.

As Buffy shifted slightly, she noticed Tara’s hand on her breast, now gently squeezing, as Tara seemed to be waking up too. Buffy’s hand was laying against Willow’s belly, as if to make sure the red-headed witch was snugged tightly to her.

After one last squeeze, Tara rolled away from Buffy, causing her to get goose bumps all over her back as the cooler air of the room washed over the newly exposed skin. She groaned in protest and rolled over to look into Tara’s eyes. She was somewhat concerned about the immediate future, but not too much. This — the three of them together — felt too right to be anything less than love. Buffy just wanted to see confirmation in the golden-haired witch’s eyes.

“G-good morning, Buffy,” Tara said softly. This time the shyness wasn’t faked. She was afraid that Buffy might have regrets this morning. She hoped not, and not just for Willow’s sake; Tara was a little bit in love with Buffy herself. How could she not be? Buffy was beautiful, brave, strong, loyal, and a really good friend. Then there was that whole “risks her life nightly to save the world from the evils of demons and vampires” thing that, if nothing else, inspired a little bit of hero-worship.

Buffy saw the love and adoration in Tara’s eyes and knew that this was going to work. It would be hard, and they would have to withstand the possibility of misunderstanding from their friends. Their families ... well, Tara’s was out of the picture; Willow’s was never there; ‘Just leaves Mom and Dawn, I guess,’ she thought. Buffy smiled warmly at Tara and moved to embrace her. She kissed her softly on the lips and said, “What, no ‘Slayer’ this morning, Mistress Tara?”

Tara smiled in relief and kissed Buffy back before answering, “Oh, you’re mine now, Slayer — never forget it.” Stroking Buffy’s back she added, “But we don’t have to play that way all the time, Buffy. I can be soft and sweet, too.”

Buffy pulled her close and nuzzled her cheek-to-cheek. She whispered in her ear, “I love you, Tara.”

Tara pulled away to look, once again, into Buffy’s eyes. Seeing the honesty and love there she smiled widely, “Oh, good.” She giggled at the confused look in the slayer’s eyes, continuing, “Because, I’m kinda falling in love with you.”

Their lips tentatively touched, and they began to kiss. As Buffy sighed into the kiss, Tara sought to deepen it. Suddenly they were startled out of the kiss by a loud whimper next to them on the bed.

Willow had rolled over onto her back and started to twitch and moan. Buffy and Tara were instantly focused back onto the woman they both loved more than life itself — the one that had brought all three of them together.

Willow’s moans began to deepen and increase in volume. It was soon clear that they were not the result of a nightmare, but rather a dream of a more pleasurable nature. Their thoughts were confirmed when Willow groaned out, “Goddess, yes! Yes, Buffy, right there. Oh, Tara, harder! Bite it harder!”

Buffy and Tara looked at each other with a smirk on their faces. “It looks like Willow is having fun without us, doesn’t it, Tara?” Buffy chuckled.

“Mmhmm,” Tara agreed. “I’m not sure that we should let her get away with that, should we?” she asked Buffy.

“Doesn’t seem right,” Buffy concurred. She moved off of the bed and around to the other side of Willow, climbing back on and lying along side of her.

Tara smiled and arranged herself similarly across the red witch from Buffy. She dipped her head down and began to circle her tongue around the still-sleeping girl’s areola, while her hand stroked the soft flesh of her breast, gently pushing it up and in, as though to get a better angle on it for her mouth.

After a few moments, Willow’s moans and whimpers became more fevered. Tara and Buffy slowly stroked their hands along the pale flesh of Willow’s torso until they reached the wet, red curls of her sex, their mouths now latched onto her nipples and suckling gently. As their fingers came together over the slippery pink lips, they intertwined their hands, lacing their fingers together. Each extended their index fingers, and they began to stroke up and down the slick seam between their lover’s thighs, eventually entering her and slowly sliding in and out. Their thumbs ran back and forth along either side of the writhing witch’s pleasure point as they pumped in and out.

Soon Willow was twitching and whimpering in that special way that Tara knew meant that she was about to tip over the edge. She and Buffy extended a second finger and now there were four slim digits stroking in and out of the dripping pink petals of Willow’s pleasure. This was enough to bring the witch back into the waking world and she gasped loudly — both at the sensation of being so full, and at the glorious sight of two blonde heads suckling at her soft little breasts.

It was too much and Willow began keening as her orgasm crashed through her body.

Tara and Buffy released Willow’s nipples and looked into each other’s eyes as they slowly withdrew their interlaced fingers from the twitching witch. Their eyes were drawn to the sight of their clasped hands, their glistening fingers. With seemingly silent communication they brought their hands up between their faces and paused for a moment as their eyes flickered back to each other’s for a moment before separating their hands.

Willow, having recovered from her release, looked back down her body in time to see her two mistresses lovingly press their dripping fingers past each other’s lips. She struggled not to close her own eyes as they did. She didn’t want to miss a single moment of this incredibly sweet and erotic sight as her two lovers suckled her own juices off of each other’s hands. “Oh Goddess,” she whispered.

Buffy and Tara both turned their attention to the stunned look on Willow’s face. They each smiled around the fingers in their mouth before claiming their hands from one another again. Simultaneously, they chanted, “Good morning, lover.”

Willow dropped her head back onto the pillow and rasped out, “Best morning ever!”

Buffy got up to go to the bathroom when she stopped cold at the voice that rang out behind her.

“Where do you think you are going, Slayer?” Tara asked loudly, yet low and sultry.

“Uh, to the bathroom?” Buffy answered. Realizing her mistake she quickly added, “Mistress Tara.”

Giving one of her patented little half-smiles, Tara said, “Oh, good idea. I need to go too.” Hardening her gaze as she got up, she added, “Don’t think I didn’t notice your hesitation, Slayer. There’s also the matter of your impertinence last night! When I come back from freshening up, I expect to see you on your knees waiting for me.”

Turning to Willow she said, “Pet, since you were so good last night, you get to watch your new lover get spanked. Then she can make amends for having the audacity to harbor feelings for Mistress’s girlfriend!”

‘Oh God! Oh my God!’ kept running through the slayer’s mind as she hurried to the bathroom and took care of her immediate morning needs. Afterward, she stood in front of the mirror, looking at herself. Taking a moment to brush the dead-cat look out of her hair before meeting her own gaze, she thought, ‘I had sex with my best friend. My best friend ... lay over my lap and I spanked her and then she—’ Buffy’s thoughts once again transitioned from words to images as she relived last night.

Shaking herself out of her reverie, she once again took in the sight of her nude body in front of the mirror. She noted the erect nipples, the blush on her face, and the already growing moisture low down her waxed-bare torso. ‘Now I’m going to have sex with my best friend’s girlfriend ... she’s going to spank me and then I’m going to—’ Buffy’s eyes were wide and shining and her mouth was slack as the image of her nude reflection faded away into her mental imaginings of what was about to happen.

She wasn’t afraid of the fact that she had never performed oral sex on a woman before. She knew what she liked to have done to her, and she knew where the various parts were and how they worked. She imagined that she could figure it out. ‘Plus, Tara will probably tell me what to do,’ she thought. Buffy remembered the pungent, musky earthiness she had sucked off of Tara’s fingers last night and her mouth watered a bit at the thought of going straight to the source of that potent flavor.

“Mistress Tara,” Buffy whispered quietly, letting the words roll off of her tongue, as her mind rolled the concept about, considering the ramifications. She had let herself follow Tara and Willow’s lead last night through a lot of “firsts.” It was her first experience with a woman — beyond a few post-slayage heavy-kissing/light-petting sessions she and Faith had engaged in, before Faith had gone psycho on her. It was her first BDSM scene — again, not counting the time Faith and Angel had chained her up and threatened to torture her. That one didn’t count because she and Angel had been setting Faith up, and she hadn’t really been shackled. Never mind the fact that she’d had erotic dreams about that situation for months afterward. ‘Minus the various sharp and pointy instruments, of course,’ she mentally added. Last night, and this morning, had also been her first threesome.

‘I think what’s freaking me out, is that none of this is freaking me out!’ she thought at last. She decided that she had better get back into the room and “assume the position.” On her way out, she had one last thought and made a quick side trip into the storage closet to get something she had never imagined she would actually use, though she had never managed bring herself to get rid of it either.

Buffy returned to her room, relieved to see that Tara wasn’t back yet. She saw Willow perched on her chair, one foot up on her desk, spreading her legs wide. Buffy’s eyes widened at the sight, as Willow was unabashedly toying with her nipples with her left hand, and stroking her fingers through her curly red thatch with her right.

“I see that you’re looking forward to watching Mistress Tara punish me,” she said with a smirk on her face.

“Oh Goddess, yes, Mistress Buffy,” she groaned out in response, obviously already extremely aroused just at the thought of it.

Buffy arranged herself so that she was kneeling facing the door with the long, narrow wooden box she had retrieved lying out before her. She put a stern look on her face and said, “And who told you that you were allowed to touch yourself?”

Willow jerked her hands away from her self as though she had touched a live circuit. “N-no one, Mistress Buffy.” Then she got a sly look on her face and nonchalantly stuck her fingers in her mouth, licking her own essence off of them. “I guess you’re going to have to punish me, Mistress Buffy.”

Buffy had to exert a great deal of effort to keep the smile off of her face, and the laughter out of her voice as she said, “Count on it.”

Tara lingered in the bathroom, trying to make sure Buffy had time to get to where she was supposed to be when she got back. She marveled for a moment at her own good fortune. It wasn’t that long ago that she was in a place of serious depression and fear. Even after escaping her horrible father and brother, she had been sad, lonely, and afraid. College had been a place filled with loud, vibrant masses of people with whom she had no idea how to interact. She felt like an outsider, a freak. She had latched on to an on-campus Wicca group, hoping to find someone with whom she could feel comfortable, someone with common interests in magic and witchcraft. All she had found were a bunch of lip-servicing wannabe Gaia worshipers who dismissed magic as a “negative stereotype” of witches. She had cursed her own timid inability to stand up to them and show them that magic was real. She had lived in the fear and self-hatred that had haunted her ever since her mother had died.

Then she had seen Willow for the first time. Of course she had desired her from the moment her eyes had settled on the beautiful redhead, but it had been more than that. Willow had brought up the idea of spells to the Wicca group — something Tara had always been too afraid to do — and they had reacted just as Tara had always feared. She had, for a moment, tried to support Willow’s idea, but her cursed shyness had caused her to chicken out at the last moment. Even though the entire group had essentially chastised the red-haired witch for her idea, Willow had only seemed to rise above it, not been crushed by it. Pathetic as it had been, Tara instantly decided that Willow was her own personal hero. Then, when they had faced the Gentlemen together, her hero-worship had only strengthened. Though obviously scared, Willow had shown great strength and resolve in the face of what — Tara had been sure — was going to be certain death.

Getting involved with Willow — seeing the horrors that this beautiful angel had routinely faced and overcame — had been a serious wake-up call for the blonde witch. That the world was full of evil, she had always known. But that the evil wore a physical face — walked the Earth at night seeking to rend and devour — that she hadn’t known. Even though her family had convinced her that she had demon in her, she had never before seen a real demon — certainly never had to face one — and could never have imagined fighting one, let alone winning such a fight. The things Willow and her circle of friends had been challenged by, and successfully defeated, woke Tara to the amazing fact that it was possible to be strong in the face of evil. It was possible to stand up and actually win. Tara had so much wanted to be a part of that — not only because she had desperately fallen in love with Willow, but because she wanted to contribute to the cause — to help save the world. What a change from the beaten and humiliated little mouse she had always been.

When Willow had made her choice — to be with Tara over the return of the “love of her life” — Tara thought she could never have been happier than at that moment. Of course, it turned out that she had been wrong. As glorious as that night had been, it had been later on, when the Scooby gang had found out the truth about her, the secret she had tried to hide — not to mention the spell she had cast which had almost resulted in all of their deaths — and, rather than rejecting her, had taken her in: that had been the best night of her life. Buffy Summers — the Chosen One, the vampire slayer, and, oh yeah, Savior of the World several times over — had called her family. Buffy had stood up to Tara’s father and brother and made her a part of the most wonderful thing in the world — in Tara’s mind at least — the Scooby Gang. As much in love as she had been with Willow, she had also fallen in love with Buffy that night.

Tara could never have imagined that she would actually be doing this. She was mistress to the slayer! The most important person on the whole planet — in Tara’s opinion — was on her knees, waiting for Tara to come and spank her! Tara’s own excitement was so acute that she thought she might cum before she ever laid a hand on the slayer. ‘Oh Goddess! I’m going to enjoy this so much!’ she thought as she opened the door and went back to Buffy’s room.

Tara slowly took in the scene before her as she entered the room. Willow was sitting in the desk chair, prim and proper, but with a look on her face that indicated that, moments earlier, she had been anything but. Buffy was on her knees, eyes down, as requested. Before her was a long, narrow, wooden box. “What is that, Slayer?” she asked.

Tara raised a brow, wondering what this could possibly be. Obviously it had to be something Buffy already owned, as she hadn’t had time to get anything new, as they had only started this relationship last night. ‘Is this something appropriate to the game we’re playing? Did Buffy already have BDSM gear before this?’ Tara thought.

Buffy reached over the box and opened it so that Tara could see what was inside.

A wooden paddle lay nestled inside the blood-red-velvet-lined box. It was eighteen inches long, three and a half wide, and three quarters of an inch thick; made of hardwood with a dark, satiny finish; and had a leather-wrapped handle.

When Tara managed to bring her eyes back up to the slayer’s face, she noticed that Buffy was blushing hotly. Her own body was quivering in anticipation of using this fine instrument. “Where did you get this, Slayer?” she asked softly.

If possible, Buffy blushed even harder as she answered, “It was a ... gift. A taunt ... from Angelus, Mistress.”

Willow gasped again, finally dragging her eyes away from the paddle where they had been fixed as visions of its use on both Buffy and herself traipsed through her mind.

Buffy, still blushing once again dropped her gaze to the floor as she answered, discomfited, “I ... I couldn’t, Mistress. I hated Angelus for it, but it — well, let’s say that it took me to a not-so-scary visual place.”

Tara regained some semblance of her self-control and said flatly, “I suppose you want me to use this on you.”

Buffy did her best imitation of Willow’s little girl voice when she said, “If it pleases you, Mistress.”

Tara suppressed a grin at Buffy’s attempt to manipulate her — not that she was adverse to the thought. “I want to feel that ass with my hands, Slayer. I want to see my pink handprints on that smooth, tanned flesh first, and then we’ll see about the paddle.”

Tara’s descriptive imagery had Buffy panting with desire as she answered, “Thank you, Mistress!”

Tara had Buffy across her lap, the paddle lying on the bed next to her. She was stroking the smooth skin of the slayer’s ass and upper legs, feeling the wetness already running between those thighs. Her own thigh was glossy slick from Buffy’s excitement and she hadn’t landed the first blow. She was contemplating where to land her initial blow when she was surprised by a question from the prone slayer.

“Yes, you have, that’s why you’re here,” Tara answered, meaning here across her lap.

Buffy went on, “Mistress, I should be *severely* punished,” she said, hoping Tara would get the hint.

Tara realized that with Buffy being the slayer, her tolerance for pain must be quite high. She assumed that Buffy meant that Tara should not hold back at all. Breaking from her role for just a moment she leaned down and whispered in Buffy’s ear, “Are you sure I won’t hurt you, Buffy? Even with the paddle?”

Buffy was genuinely touched by the depth of Tara’s concern and care for her. “Tara, slayer healing will take care of anything you do within a couple of hours. I ... I want....” She trailed off, embarrassed by what she wanted.

Tara wanted Buffy to trust her. This kind of game required absolute trust, and she was determined to be worthy of the slayer’s trust. She would give her whatever she needed. She said, “It’s okay, Buffy. Tell me what you want. Trust me.”

Buffy’s eyes filled with unshed tears as she dropped all barriers. “I want it to h-hurt, Mistress,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Please, Mistress. I need it.”

Tara sat up rather quickly as she gasped at Buffy’s request. She felt the slayer stiffen on her lap, obviously fearing Tara’s rejection. Though she was slightly ill at ease with the thought of deliberately hurting someone she cared about, she knew that Buffy would be more hurt by a negative response right now. Buffy had revealed something extremely intimate and confidential. To reject her now would ruin their burgeoning relationship. ‘She’s the slayer. Pain is different to her. Besides, it’s not like there will be any permanent marking or scarring,’ she rationalized to herself.

Out loud, Tara said, “You have been exceptionally naughty, Slayer. Your punishment, therefore, will have to be severe.”

Buffy’s terror melted away at Tara’s response. “Oh thank you, Mistress!” she cried.

Tara raised her hand and said, “Count them out, Slayer.” She began to strike the beautifully soft flesh before her, becoming aware of the hardness underlying the velvety skin.

By the time Buffy had chanted out, “Ten, Mistress Tara,” there were tears in Tara’s eyes. Buffy’s backside was red and hot. She took a moment to stroke the reddened flesh, and inhaled the potent scent of Buffy’s dripping arousal.

Willow was squirming in her chair. The desire to touch herself, to plunge her fingers deep inside her and ease the growing ache between her legs, was nearly overpowering. Tara was spanking Buffy for all she was worth and her best friend obviously loved every moment of it.

Tara reached beside her for the paddle and happened to glance over at Willow. The girl’s body was fairly humming with tension, and her hands were slowly drifting toward her sopping pussy. Tara could see the moisture pooled on the chair beneath her.

“Hands, Pet,” she said, causing Willow to snatch her hands back and to her sides.

Tara had to fight off a smile as she saw the pouting desperation on her lover’s face. She added, “If you’re good, Pet, I’ll have the slayer clean up that mess for you,” indicating with the paddle the sloppy mess that was between the redhead’s parted thighs.

Willow’s voice was thick with lust as she said, “Oh, thank you, Mistress!” She all but bounced in her seat, causing a slight squishing sound that had Tara almost panting to match her pet.

Tara returned her attention to the quivering slayer in her lap. “Continue counting, Slayer,” as she brought the paddle down on the blonde’s already-red ass with a loud smack.

“Eleven, Mistress!” Buffy nearly shouted. The freshly stinging pain of the paddle was almost enough to drive the slayer over the edge. Almost. Buffy could tell that Tara was holding back a little so she decided to try and communicate her desperate need.

Tara was startled by the loud sound and a little shocked at the angry red stripe that lay across the slayer’s trembling ass. ‘Surely that’s too hard!’ she thought. Suddenly, Buffy began squirming in her lap after she called out the eleventh stroke. ‘Why that little vixen,’ Tara thought. ‘She’s begging for more!’ She finally gave in to the slayer’s request and let herself go, striking with all the strength in her body.

Buffy shrieked as the twelfth blow landed. ‘Finally!’ she thought. “Twelve, Mistress! Thank you, Mistress!” she screamed as she approached the ragged edge of release.

Amazed, and knowing that she was so close, Tara rained three more blows in rapid succession; again, as hard as she could muster.

“Thirteen, Mistress!” Buffy screamed. So close ... “Fourteen, Mistress!” Oh God! “Fifteen, Mistressssss!” Buffy’s speech degenerated into a drawn out shriek as the orgasm that she had been anticipating since the first smack on her ass arose through her like a blast wave. Any higher consciousness in Buffy was eradicated as the waves of pleasure continued to pound through her shaking frame.

Tara looked down in awe at the quivering, twitching body in her lap. She reached between her slayer’s legs and gently stroked her clit, trying to prolong the orgasm as much as possible. From the ferocity of Buffy’s reaction, she inferred that Buffy was long overdue for this release. Tara wondered how long she had been holding in the emotions that lead to this. Whatever the case, Tara was thrilled and gratified that she had been able to bring this out in her new lover.

Tara looked up sharply but relented when she saw that Willow wasn’t even aware that she had spoken out loud. She bent down to Buffy’s ear and began to whisper soothing endearments as she came down from her amazing pleasure-high.

Buffy slipped off of Tara’s lap and down onto her knees as awareness slowly returned to her. She had her arms wrapped around Tara’s knees and her head laid in Tara’s lap, never minding the slick wetness on Tara’s thighs. She was crying in emotional release as she let go of what she felt must be years of pent-up sorrow and self-hatred. All the failures, all the deaths that she had been unable to prevent — intellectually, she knew they weren’t her fault, but her heart had filled with guilt over them anyway. So full of guilt that it was almost too much to bear, until it had left her feeling emotionally distant, as though she were unable to feel love or any other positive emotion anymore. It was like ... a dam had been holding all that hurt inside. It wasn’t all gone yet, but Tara had torn a hole in the dam and, as the pain poured forth, it widened the hole, allowing even more to flow out. She didn’t think she could ever really repay the once-shy witch for this gift, but she knew how to start.

Tara shivered as Buffy began to clean her thighs with her tongue. Watching the slayer lap up her own wetness from Tara’s legs was turning her on even more. And she was already so turned on that she thought she would scream. “That’s it, Slayer. Time for you to make amends,” she said as she spread her legs and leaned back on her elbows to watch the slayer in action.

Buffy moved in closer to Tara’s center and marveled at the way the flavor changed from her own dark and strong muskiness to the more savory and pungent syrup coating Tara’s inner thighs. “Yes, Mistress. Let me make it up to you. Let me thank you for the gift you’ve given me....” She trailed off as her tongue once again set to work.

Tara groaned and grunted as Buffy carefully laved every square inch of flesh on her agonizingly slow journey to Tara’s soaked curls. “Long, wide strokes, Slayer. Bottom to top, be sure to catch every last drop!” she said as she directed Buffy’s enthusiastic but inexpert tongue. “Now, slide in the two middle fingers ... oh, yes! That’s good! Turn palm up and stroke the top — oh Goddess! Just like that.”

Buffy could feel Tara’s legs begin to tremble and muscles quaver around her fingers as she stroked the spongy roof of her slick tunnel.

“Mmm, that’s perfect,” Tara purred. “Now suck on—” she began when Buffy instinctively latched on to her pleasure center with her lips and sucked strongly, swirling about at it with her tongue.

Buffy felt the tremors inside Tara change into an earthquake of grasping muscles as hot wetness poured forth over her fingers and into her palm. She left off sucking on Tara’s clit as she couldn’t help but slurp up the sticky goodness in her hand. She continued rubbing with her fingers and watching Tara’s body shimmy and shake as the pleasure rolled through her.

The more Buffy rubbed, the stronger Tara’s orgasm got as she displayed the multi-orgasmic splendor that had so amazed Willow their first night together. The slayer kept rubbing, kept drinking up Tara’s savory syrup until the witch was on the verge of exhaustion.

Finally Tara had to instruct her to stop. “Enough, Slayer!” she hitched out between pants. She hastened to reassure her as she noticed the worry in her eyes. “No, Slayer. You were absolutely perfect. Mistress is well pleased — almost too well pleased.” She paused for a moment to catch her breath. “You have *so* made amends!”

Tara smiled at the sight of Buffy grinning in delight, the lower half of her face shiny with Tara’s juices. She looked over at Willow and saw the joy and desire in her eyes and said, “Now, go over there and have Willow clean up your face, then you can clean up the mess she made in your chair.”

Buffy spun around on her knees and began to sensuously crawl toward the redhead, thinking happily, ‘Savory was divine; now it’s time for a sweet desert!’

Read the rest of the Wuffara Chronicles:

The Please Trilogy

The Triad Trilogy

Repercussions, Reactions,
and Retaliations

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The Wuffara ChroniclesThe Please TrilogyIf It Pleases You

The Bear

Read the rest of the Wuffara Chronicles:

The Wuffara Chronicles
The Please Trilogy
If It Pleases You