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Finally recovered from their rousing bout of lovemaking, Willow sat up and began to remove the ribbons. They were sticking to her sweaty body and the colors were running. She began to laugh.
"Time for a shower, luv," Spike said, trying not to smile at the sight of red and green nipples on his lover.
Stretching, Willow rose from the bed and walked over to her closet. Reaching up to the shelf, she pulled down a gaily wrapped package and turned to him with a melodramatic sigh. "I guess you better unwrap Cordy's present then."
Spike took the large box and his eyes narrowed at the angels scattered across the paper. "She just doesn't get it all the time, does she?"
"It's what inside that matters."
Seeing her eagerness, Spike slowly opened the card and read the message to himself. 'A little something to take care of our disobedient Willow while I'm in Palm Springs for three weeks.' Ripping off the paper, Spike lifted the lid on a clothing box and found not clothing but a heavy, red plastic paddle with holes in it. He held it up, examining it for several minutes.
Willow began to squirm.
"Perfect for the shower, hm luv?"
"I was bitchy and whiny," she mumbled under her breath, lowering her eyes as anticipation flooded her.
"Get the rest of the ribbons off of yourself and be in the shower waiting for me. Two minutes," he directed.
Willow scampered to the bathroom.
Two minutes later, Spike strolled into the already steamy room, smacking the paddle into his hand. Willow was standing under the hot spray, behind the glass doors, scrubbing herself quickly. Opening one door, Spike stepped into the shower and she turned to face him, pushing her wet hair out of her face.
"Lean against the wall, brace your feet and stick your ass out, Willow."
"Yes, sir," she murmured as she hurried to obey, her whole body tingling and fresh lust flooding her. Leaning slightly forward, grateful for all those stick-on, non-slip decals her mother had insisted be put on the floor, Willow spread her legs and arched her bottom into the air. The hot water hit her back and bottom and she shivered.
"Ten?"
"Yes, sir...Please."
Hefting the paddle, Spike cracked it across her wet ass, making her jump and hiss and leaving a lovely red mark. "The hot water does wonders for bringing the blood to the surface," he pointed out.
Gasping for breath against the pain, Willow nodded wordlessly and braced herself. The second blow fell across her upper thighs and she moaned and clenched her toes. Two more quick blows on each cheek followed and tears began to stream down her cheeks.
Her bottom was glowing bright red and her pussy was throbbing in time.
On the seventh smack, this one across her anus, she arched inwards, trying to escape the pain and Spike grabbed her hip, pulling her back out, then hit her three times, hard, in the exact same spot.
Willow cried out and tried to squirm away. The pain was exquisite but also hurt like Hell.
"Willow, turn around," he ordered coldly.
Sniffling, she slowly obeyed, her hands going back to rub her throbbing bottom. She winced as Spike smacked the paddle against the palm of his hand.
"I told you to keep your ass in the air."
"I'm sorry," she mumbled.
"And you know what that means."
"We start over."
"Plus more." Spike stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. "You have five minutes to finish washing, dry yourself and present yourself in your room. If I'm waiting a second longer...I leave."
That was the worst punishment he could inflict on her and he smiled to himself as he watched her grab for the soap and a washcloth. Chuckling, he walked out of the bathroom to set things up.
Willow was thirty seconds early and arrived in her room flushed and flustered. Her eyes widened at the sight of the piano bench sitting in the middle of the room, scarves tied to each leg.
He hadn't used that in months--only when she refused to accept the punishments she craved. Her mouth dry, she walked over to the bench and straddled it, then leaned forward until her torso lay on its length, her head and legs dangling.
Spike quickly strapped her wrists to the legs, tying the knots tightly so that her arms were immobilized. He then moved to her legs and bound the scarves around the back of her knees. She could squirm slightly, but couldn't prevent him from punishing her.
"Willow...you can stop me at any time."
He always felt the need to say that and Willow blinked away the sudden tears. She knew he didn't like doing this to her very much, but it made her so happy that he was willing.
She had never said the words to stop him.
"Yes...Please punish me...hard."
Going to the closet, Spike pulled out her bag of goodies and found her two foot, bound bamboo cane. Swishing it in the air, he returned to her side. Willow craned her neck, trying to see what he was going to use on her, but couldn't get a glimpse of the instrument.
"Ten for bitching," he said coldly, then swung the cane down. Willow heard it whistle through the air a split second before it cracked across her already sore ass. Hissing at the pain, she bit her lip and tensed her body, waiting for more.
Spike didn't disappoint, whipping her in a different spot each time, cutting ten nasty red marks across her ass. By the tenth blow, Willow was sobbing and struggling as best she could against her bonds.
Looking down at the stripes and growing bruises, Spike put the cane away, then strolled naked out of the room.
It took her a minute to realize he was gone, but then Willow stopped crying and furrowed her brow. Tugging on the scarfs around her wrists, she twisted her head around, trying to spot him.
By the time she heard him walking across the floor, the pain in her bottom had faded from stinging to throbbing. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that he was drinking one of her dad's expensive beers. He lounged on her bed and picked up the novel he'd been reading during the nights he spent with her.
Willow stared at him as long as she could hold her head up, then groaned and let it fall forward, totally puzzled by his behavior. Squirming as she grew increasingly uncomfortable, she wondered how long he would leave her tied up.
After about ten minutes, she found the nerve to speak. "Um...Spike? Can I get up?"
"No," he replied, not looking up from his book.
Willow frowned and squirmed some more, pulling on the bonds. She was beginning to get a little dizzy from her head hanging down and a cramp was growing in one of her thighs. Plus, she was incredibly hot and bothered, so much so that she could feel the moisture oozing from her and smearing on the bench.
Her mom would kill her if she stained it.
At least fifteen more minutes passed in silence. A crick was forming in Willow's neck and she was panting softly in lust and discomfort. All she had to do was ask...but she couldn't do it. She didn't want to do it.
Glancing over at Spike, she saw that he was still reading but his other hand no longer held the beer bottle. It was running up and down his hardening cock. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched his every seemingly casual movement.
His cock hard, Spike set aside the book and rose from the bed. Their eyes met briefly as he walked towards her and a highly erotic image flashed through Willow's mind. She was tied too tightly for him to reach her pussy and her head was too low. There was only one way.
Closing her eyes and biting her lip, Willow waited eagerly for his touch.
She gasped at the cold of his body straddling her, then winced as he took a hold of her bottom, opening her. She hadn't seen him get the lube, but she could feel it on his fingers as he thrust them inside her, coating her tight passage.
Spike's fingers pulled out and were immediately replaced by his cock, plunging to the hilt and driving her down harder against the wooden bench. Willow groaned in pain, her bottom burning as his pelvis slapped against her tender skin as he began a quick rhythm.
She listened to his grunts of pleasure and felt her own body fill with hot lust. Willow tried squirming and arching against him, but her bonds held her still, a vessel for his use.
Her pussy throbbed, her clit was on fire needing to be touched, and she whimpered helplessly.
With a deep growl, Spike spilled himself inside her clenching bowels, listening to her whimpers of pain and lust. Forcing himself to his feet, he collapsed onto her desk chair to recover from his second orgasm of the night.
Tears leaked from Willow's eyes, running down her hot cheeks to drip on the floor. She needed release so badly and a part of her couldn't help but wonder if this was her real punishment, being denied satisfaction.
Another ten minutes passed. Willow stared at the floor, the blood rushing into her burning face. Her body twitched and sweat seeped out of her pores as her lust only grew. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore and she sobbed his name.
She heard him rise, then felt his hands untying her. As he helped her to her feet, she stumbled as the blood rushed to her deprived parts, making her whole body tingle and sting. Sobbing, she collapsed in his arms and Spike lifted her into his arms to carry her to the bed.
Depositing Willow on her back, he knelt beside her and began to rub the feeling back into her shaking limbs. After a few minutes, her sobs ceased and she looked at him with burning, tormented eyes.
Stretching out beside her, Spike ran one hand down her body and between her spread legs. Opening her folds gently, he caressed her with each finger, light, butterfly touches that made her arch against him, crying in pleasure. He tormented her for several minutes, rubbing and twisting her throbbing, wet flesh.
Finally his fingers found her hard clit and pinched it. Willow screamed his name and exploded, her whole body shaking as her core melted over his hand. Bucking against his dancing fingers, she continued to yell as he ruthlessly drew out her pleasure.
Gasping for breath as a haze formed before her eyes, Willow fell back onto the pillows and slid into unconsciousness.
Placing a kiss on her cheek, Spike smiled and brought his fingers up to his lips, sucking her essence from them as she swooned.
"Oh, Willow," he called gently, tapping her cheek with his hand. "Wake up, luv."
Slowly her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him in confusion. "Wha...what happened?"
"You passed out," he replied, a hint of pride in his voice.
Willow blushed and swallowed hard in disbelief. "Is that...normal?"
"You're fine, my love. La petite morte. It's been around for oh a long time."
The little death? Willow blushed deeper under his huge grin of self-satisfaction. Finally she found her voice. "Would you have left me tied there all night?"
"...I knew you couldn't hold out for long."
"That didn't answer my question."
Spike gave her an enigmatic smile, then rose from the bed, reaching for his jeans and slipping them on. "I think you need something to eat. Anything sound good?"
"You're going to cook?"
"I can microwave," he replied a little defensively.
Willow gave him a lazy smile and thought about it for a minute. "I think there's some left over spaghetti in the fridge."
Spike headed down the hall towards the kitchen and Willow slipped from the bed, wincing at the throbbing in her bottom and the minor aches in her muscles from being bound. Smiling, she opened her top dresser drawer and drew out a small box, then found an emerald green satin chemise and pulled it over her head. Picking up her brush, she ran it through her hair, then looked in the mirror.
Seeing the sparkle in her eyes, she knew it was time. Carrying the box, she left the room and made her way to the kitchen.
Spike was humming 'Mony, Mony' as he poured orange juice into a glass and waited for the microwave to ding. When he saw her, he stopped humming and set the glass on the kitchen table. "I was planning to bring it to you in bed, luv."
"I couldn't wait."
He gave her an indulgent smile and opened the microwave to stir her pasta. "That hungry, huh?"
"Something like that."
Placing the steaming plate on the table, he reached for the chair to pull it out for her, but Willow grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
Looking down into her shining eyes, he smiled softly and lowered his mouth to hers. They kissed tenderly, with complete love and devotion.
Finally, Willow pulled back and shoved Spike gently into a chair. Lifting her other hand, she held out the box to him. He gave her a puzzled look, but took it.
"I'm not exactly a Christian, pet. You didn't need to get me a Christmas present," he said as he opened it.
"It's not exactly..." As love welled up in her, she couldn't go on. Her eyes watched the play of emotions on his beautiful face as he took out a simple gold band and held it up to the light. Clearly engraved on the inside were the names William and Willow intertwined with a heart.
"I...I don't know what to say," he finally managed to get out as he stared, stunned, at the ring in his hand, then looked up at the strange combination of timid bravery on her face.
Willow reached for his hand and closed her fingers around it and the ring, then dropped to her knees and kissed his knuckles. "Don't say anything. Just know that....I love you. And I want to be with you for the rest of my life."
"Willow..."
"Will you marry me?" she forced out, gasping for breath since she'd been holding it for over a minute. Her eyes blinked at him and she found herself holding her breath again.
Amazed and so incredibly touched, Spike leaned down and kissed her gently on the forehead. "Yes."
Crying in joy, Willow sank against him and he wrapped his arms around her shaking shoulders, kissing the top of her head as she clutched his waist, never wanting to let him go.
He didn't know how it would be possible and it would surely cause a lot of problems. They might lose friends. She might lose family, if they were unwilling to accept him. The obstacles in front of them were huge.
But, he loved her and he wanted her...for as long as her God gave them.
In his mind's eye, he saw an image of Willow, much older, hair gray, wrinkles on her lovely face, her slender body a little softer...and he found he loved that image as much as the girl in his arms.
A demon vampire in love with a mortal...It had to be a first.
Angelus was going to be so incredibly pissed.
End