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Lessons In Control	By : purplefeen Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 14059 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Lessons In Control

by purplefeen

rating: NC17

pairings: S/W forever

warnings: bdsm, m/m & f/f sex, multi-partner sex

time frame: AR S6 BtVS, no Spuffy, Tara's just a Scooby

summary:Willow asks Spike to teach her to be a submissive, but it's not what she thought it would be.

"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.
[�Well-endowed, my ass, she was
built like a brick shithouse�, Spike thought later when he read this
narrative.]
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 color, 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.
End
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Lessons In Control