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"No."
Willow stared at Cordelia, rather surprised that her request had been turned down.
Cordelia squirmed on the desk chair as her mind tried to assimilate the knowledge that Willow had willingly had sex with Angel.
"Why not?"
Sighing, Cordelia tried to answer. "I don't think I can. You say you need to be punished, which I have no problem with, but you want me to really hurt you, Willow, and I don't think I can do that."
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Willow seemed to fold in on herself, wrapping her arms around her trembling body. She had called Cordelia the night before asking her to come over after school. Once in Willow's room, the horror of the night before had spilled from the redhead's lips.
Cordelia had been shocked, sympathetic, a good listener and a good shoulder to cry own. That she was denying her the need for punishment, surprised Willow.
"You've hit me hard before," she said numbly.
"For silly things, for imagined things, for fun. This isn't for fun, Willow. I...don't think I can do that. I don't think I'm a sadist, at least not a real one, all the time."
Willow stared at her, wide eyed. "I need this, Cordy," she murmured. "I need to pay. The guilt and pain is tearing me up inside."
"And you really think a whipping will help?" As she said the words, Cordelia thought of Xander and his occasional need for her to beat him to drain him of his anger. Dry mouthed and worried for her friend who seemed to be deteriorating again, Cordelia licked her lips and sighed. "There's another option."
"What?"
The sudden eagerness in Willow's voice made the decision for Cordelia. "I recently discovered a club, a place where this sort of thing takes place...and I got memberships for both of us. I thought that once everything got back to normal, we could go and have fun."
"What kind of fun?"
"Well...I've been twice, just to watch the public shows, but there are also private rooms that can be reserved, furnished with various...well, bondage stuff."
Willow flushed, her mind whirling. "Is it here in Sunnydale?"
"Yeah. Actually, that's not all that surprising, is it?" At Willow's shake of her head, Cordelia continued, "It's mostly adults, but I've seen a few high school students there. We kind of did the 'I see you but will never speak of it' thing. Some people are naked; some in regular clothes. There's some public sex, but mostly that's kept private. A lot of the beatings and stuff are public. I think it's considered more of a punishment if other people are watching."
"How'd you discover this place?"
"Um...Internet. Anyway, if you want, we could go tomorrow- -it's Friday and there's supposedly always a good crowd then--and I could auction you off."
"Huh?"
"For punishment, for...whatever you want, Willow. It's done regularly, usually for money. I watched one last week. A woman auctioned her slave, who also turned out to be her husband, off to another man for the night. She said that he'd burned her favorite blouse while ironing and she thought he deserved to suck cock for a night. He went for five hundred dollars."
"Oh my God."
Cordelia continued her explanation. "All punishments are supposed to take place on the premises and be for just one night, but I've heard rumors of people making deals outside the club setting. I never thought to participate in one of the auctions, but I'd be willing, if it's what you want."
Willow was still stunned by all of Cordelia's revelations, but the idea of a stranger beating her sent an illicit thrill through her body. Still, there were things to consider. "What kind of controls are there. I mean...is there a way to stop it if it becomes too painful?"
"Yeah, apparently partners often have a safe word they use to stop whatever's going on. And I can make sure that whomever buys you let's me watch, so I can stop it, if you let me know. It's weird. There are three different kinds of people who attend this club. Those like us who are experimenting and playing at it. Those who live this lifestyle, but with safe words and real affection. And those that are a little frightening--people who I think really own their slaves and do anything they want to them whether the slave likes it or not."
Willow frowned. "How can that be possible?"
Cordelia shook her head and shrugged. "We live on the Hellmouth, Willow, everything's possible. So...would you like to go tomorrow night?"
Willow nodded slowly.
*****
Friday night came very quickly and Willow found herself sitting in Cordelia's car staring at the unpretentious building across the street.
"Are you sure about this, Willow?"
"Yes," she said, taking a deep breath.
They got out of the car, Cordelia carrying a gym bag, and walked across the street. When she had purchased their memberships, Cordelia had used the names 'Carmilla' for herself and 'Scarlett' for Willow.
A knock on the door and a flash of their cards and both girls walked into the elegant atrium. Before them was a curved staircase and two doors. Cordelia led Willow to the door on the left, opposite the stairs. Behind it was a beautifully appointed changing room with a row of lockers and stalls for changing clothes.
There were two men in the main room, one wearing only a black bikini and a dog collar, the other dressed in an elegant suit and holding a leash.
As she gaped, Willow let Cordelia tug her into one of the stalls, pulling the door closed behind them. The brunette slipped off her coat, revealing a scanty, black spandex dress that hugged her curves. She opened the bag and pulled out several articles of clothing.
"Get undressed, everything."
Willow quickly obeyed, eying the clothes. "Where did you get this stuff?"
"Internet. You can get anything. You should see this Princess Leia bikini Xander got me. Actually, this isn't that far from it." Cordelia handed Willow a green bandeau bra- top and a matching short loin cloth, that rested between her legs and barely covered her bottom. Cordelia tied it on, then pulled a brush out and swept Willow's hair into a knot on top of her head.
"One last thing." Pulling out a pair of padded cuffs on a long chain, Cordelia fastened them around Willow's wrists, then gathered up her clothes, shoving them into the bag.
Willow stared at herself in the mirror, unable to believe the exotic creature reflected there was her.
After depositing the bag, her coat and her purse in a locker and tucking the key in her bra, Cordelia took the end of the chain and tugged Willow towards the door to the club.
Nerves flooded the redhead, but she was powerless to prevent Cordelia from opening the door and pulling her into the elegant, dimly lit club. Her eyes fluttered around the large room taking in a mahogany bar, a buffet table, several small tables and booths, and a stage at the far end. There were about fifty people present, some dressed normally, some in leather, some in chains, some naked.
A pretty, young woman in a red velvet dress walked up to Cordelia. "Welcome back, Carmilla. Is this your slave?"
"Hi, Lilith. Yeah, this is Scarlett."
"Hmmm, quite lovely. Do you have specific plans for the night?"
"Actually, we do. I'd like to auction her for a night of whipping. She needs to be punished and I'm not in the mood to do it myself."
Lilith smiled and gestured for them to accompany her. "That can be easily arranged. I'm sure she will be very popular. So young and...new." She looked Willow over closely and moved behind her. "Unmarked as well."
"I've been laying off her recently."
"Many of the patrons prefer unblemished skin."
They walked deeper into the club. As Willow listened to the two chatting and arranging for the auction, she felt herself growing frightened, but the need to be punished was overwhelming her fear. She tried to listen with a clinical, detached ear, while taking in the sights and sounds of the club, but it was difficult.
Especially with the sights before her still slightly innocent eyes.
In one booth they passed a naked woman, bound with leather, was servicing one man with her mouth and two with her hands. As they continued towards the stage, they had to sidestep a man on his hands and knees being driven across the floor by a paddle wielded by a tiny blonde woman.
In a matter of minutes, Willow went from being a girl who had seen only two penises in her life to seeing nearly a dozen, in various stages of arousal, and one with several rings piercing it and a chain attached to the glans.
The three young women stopped at a table before the stage where an elderly gentleman sat stroking a cat. Willow listened to the arrangements being made and a strange calm settled over her.
She needed to be punished, to be whipped, to pay for her infidelity, for her need for revenge, for...everything she unwittingly had done to herself by sleeping with Spike.
The gentleman set the cat on the floor, then reached for the chain. Cordelia turned Willow over to him and Willow followed docilely as he led her onto the stage and over to a microphone.
With one word, he quieted the club and had everyones attention. "Patrons...We have before us a rare opportunity. Fresh, young, nearly unspoiled, this slave's mistress offers her for one night of whipping. Your choice of instruments; her choice of stopping it." He didn't need to explain that it would be stopped if the purchaser went too far. The members of the club were well acquainted with the rules that sometimes pertained to auctions.
It was still worth it.
"What am I bid for a night of whipping this delectable young thing in one of the private rooms upstairs, with her mistress watching?"
"One hundred dollars," came the first bid. Willow looked frantically and saw a man in leather pants and vest gazing eagerly at her. After that, she stopped listening, her eyes focusing on Cordelia who sat at the table watching avidly.
"Sold, for one night, for one thousand one hundred and fifty dollars, to Trevor."
Applause pealed through the room and Willow jerked her eyes away from Cordelia, trying to determine who had purchased her. Finally, she found a middle aged man being congratulated by several people and guessed he had to be the one.
Fear swept through her. He was big--tall, muscular, wearing what looked like a very expensive suit. There was an air of refined cruelty about him.
What had she gotten herself into?
Willow's mind went blank and the next thing she knew she was standing in the middle of one of the upstairs rooms.
She looked around the room in a strange combination of fear and longing. There was a four poster bed draped in red satin, a red velvet settee upon which Cordelia was now sitting, a long padded bench, a wet bar, mirrors along one whole wall, and a post in the middle of the room. Along the other wall were shelves and hooks holding an array of whips, canes, and sex toys.
A shiver ran through her and she nibbled on her lower lip. She watched as Trevor removed his jacket, laying it on the bed, then carefully removed his gold cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves. Tugging on the chains, he pulled her forward towards the bench. Sitting down on it, he placed her over his lap, her bottom arching into the air as she rose on her tip toes.
"We'll start with a traditional spanking, I think," he murmured, running his free hand over her thinly clad bottom, while the other remained wrapped around the chain, forcing her hands down to the floor.
The first blow fell unexpectedly and Willow winced at the force. Not as hard as...no, she wouldn't think about him. Closing her eyes, Willow silently began to count the smacks. Her bottom quickly began to sting and she whimpered at one hard blow across her upper thighs. making her feet kick up.
Trevor smoothed the silk up over her hips, baring her now glowing bottom. Willow blushed as she felt his fingers caressing the sore curves, then yelped at the first blow on her naked flesh. Biting her lip, she began to breathe hard as the blows fell hard and fast, covering each cheek from the small of her back to her upper thighs.
Another very painful smack fell on the tender curve of her bottom cheek and tears began to leak from her tightly shut eyes. Her face grew hotter as the blood rushed into it and she squirmed.
"Stay still."
Willow tried to obey, but the pain was growing and she pulled at the chain, trying to free her hands, as her feet kicked in the air.
"Not very obedient, is she?" he asked as he continued to hit her now very sore bottom.
"Well...she's new to all this," Cordelia answered. "Plus, I like it when she's disobedient. It means I can punish her more."
Suddenly, Trevor lifted Willow to her feet and she stumbled slightly. He kept hold of the chain and pulled her forward, motioning for her to straddle the bench and lay down on her stomach. As Willow did so, hissing at the pain in her bottom, Trevor expertly attached the chain to a convenient hook and ring in the floor, forcing her to stay down.
Turning her head so she could breathe, Willow pillowed her hot cheek on the soft velvet, and tried to get her frantic breathing under control. She felt her legs being stretched back and tied with what felt like soft rope. Experimentally, she tried to move and found that she was pinned to the bench.
Trevor's fingers found the side ties of her loincloth and he removed it, leaving her naked from the middle of her back down.
Willow watched him walk across the room towards the array of instruments, and whimpered slightly as he picked up and weighed a large wooden paddle with holes in it, then strolled back across the room.
"Scarlett?" Cordelia asked.
"Yes, mistress?" she sobbed in return.
"Do you remember our safe word?"
"Yes, mistress. Library." A place she felt safe.
"Do you wish to continue?" Trevor asked Willow.
"Yes, sir." She blinked away her tears and focused her eyes on a spot on the floor. Again, she felt his fingers running over her bottom, caressing her bruises.
Then the first blow of the paddle fell. Willow shrieked at the pain and struggled in her bonds. Finally, gasping for breath and sobbing, she collapsed limply, as the pain began to fade.
Only to increase in intensity with the next blow. Clenching her hands into fists, her short fingernails digging into her palms, Willow struggled to maintain her breathing, and let the pain flow over her.
Trevor hit her ten more times with the paddle, for a total of six on each cheek. Willow couldn't see her bottom, but she could feel how red it was from the heat spreading through her. She was shaking now, tears spilling endlessly from her eyes, as her bottom throbbed.
She watched him put away the paddle and go to the bar to pour himself a drink. Cordelia accepted a glass of white wine, and Trevor joined her on the settee. Willow closed her eyes, tuning out their conversation, trying to let her body relax.
It wasn't over, she knew that, but maybe this break would prepare her for what came next and give her a few moments to think.
As she analyzed what she was feeling, Willow was startled to discover that the pain wasn't arousing her. Every other time she had been beaten, she had become unbearably turned on.
Trevor was a handsome man. She would consider him attractive, and, as she well knew, her body would respond to caresses from just about anyone. Usually it responded to pain, too.
Or maybe it depended on who was dispensing the pain.
Or maybe she just needed to be punished so desperately that her mind refused to allow her body to become aroused no matter who was inflicting the pain.
The next thing Willow knew, she was untied and Trevor was lifting her from the bench. Willow flushed as he ran his eyes over her trembling body, then dropped her eyes to the floor as he removed her top, leaving her totally naked.
"You are blessed, Carmilla. She is lovely."
"Yes, she is. Thank you."
Trevor tugged on the chains and Willow winced as she took tiny steps over to the post, her sore muscles not wanting to work. She quickly found herself pressed against the lacquered wood, the chain hooked high over her head, drawing her slightly onto the balls of her feet.
"Turn and face your mistress."
Willow obeyed, twisting the chains and flinching as her abused bottom brushed the post. Through glazed eyes, she watched Cordelia take a sip of her wine, her hand trembling slightly. She wasn't enjoying this.
Trevor returned to Willow's side and he held up a small, many tasseled leather whip. "Have you ever been tittie whipped?"
Her mouth going dry, Willow shook her head and glanced down at her breasts, seeing them thrusting forwards as the chains pulled her back to the post.
"Keep your chin up. I don't want to accidentally mar your pretty face."
Willow jerked her chin up, clenching her jaw and waiting for the first blow of the whip. It snapped across her breasts, making her dance on her feet and twist from the pain of a dozen stinging blows.
"Such lovely pale skin. It always marks so beautifully."
The whip fell again and Willow closed her eyes, biting back her whimpers of pain. After four blows, her breasts felt like they were on fire and she found herself twisting with each blow, trying to escape. He let her struggle, knowing there was no escape, and only hit her harder the next time.
Finally, Willow cried out, pain lashing through her, and she looked down, half expecting her breasts to be sliced open. Only red streaks marred her skin--no tears or cuts, no blood flowing.
It still wasn't enough.
Trevor tossed the whip on the bed and went back over to the wall. Finding a long cane, he cracked it in the air, then smiled at the sound it made. Willow flinched and bit her sore lower lip.
"Turn around."
She obeyed, trying not to brush her stinging breasts against the post. Squeezing her eyes shut, she rested her forehead on the cool wood and waited, trying to prepare herself for the pain.
The cane slashed across her burning bottom and she yelled, slamming into the post. Jerking desperately on the chains, she bit deeply into her lower lip.
"Do you want to stop?" Cordelia asked, concern in her voice.
"...No," Willow managed to squeeze out of her constricted throat.
The next blow landed on her shoulder blades and she gritted her teeth, holding back her cry of pain. Taking deep, shuddering breaths, she forced herself to accept the pain, letting it roll through her body. The cane fell again, in the middle of her back, making her hiss and twist in her bonds.
Twenty one more times the cane fell, leaving bright red slashes across her back from shoulders to thighs. Willow moaned and jerked on the chains, sweat flowed down her face and breasts, her breathing was ragged, but she managed to handle the pain, welcoming it into her.
Willow was panting so loudly, it was several minutes before she realized that Trevor had left her again. Turning her head, she blinked the tears and sweat from her eyes and saw him making another drink as he examined the instruments on the shelves.
Cordelia rose and walked over to the post, wincing at the red and purple marks that marred Willow's pale skin. "Is it over now, Willow?" she whispered.
Slowly Willow shook her head. "...I want to bleed."
Cordelia's face paled and she pressed her lips tightly together, shaking her head in denial. "No. I won't let you do that to yourself. You don't deserve that."
Ignoring her, Willow nodded towards Trevor who was watching them intently. "I want the bullwhip."
"Not on your life."
"For my sanity," Willow pled softly.
Cordelia looked over at the whips on the wall, then back to her friend, beginning to waver. "One cut...and then it's over." Not letting Willow say anymore, Cordelia walked over to Trevor and asked him to use the bullwhip once and then they were done. He agreed.
Willow watched him set down his glass and reach for the long whip curled on a hook on the wall. He took it down, pulling on the thick leather, then snapped it experimentally. The tip cut through the velvet on the bench.
Closing her eyes again, Willow pressed herself tightly against the post, holding her breath.
The whip cracked and agony flooded her. Willow screamed, the sound drowned out by the roaring in her ears, as a red haze swam before her eyes. She no longer felt the bonds around her wrists, the strain in her calves, the stinging in her breasts, the throbbing in her bottom.
All she felt was the agony radiating from the bleeding lash mark across her bottom, filling her entire body. And she waited for the raw agony to take away her inner pain.
Tears leaked from her eyes, but they were tears of healing, not pain or despair.
As the haze began to fade and rational thought returned, Willow knew that she still needed to tell Buffy and beg her forgiveness, then possibly accept that she had lost her best friend. And, there was still Spike to deal with.
But, she felt she could face her problems now.
Pain certainly did clear away the cobwebs and cut through the morass.
End