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Author's Notes: If you have any commentary on this or any of my stories or suggestions or ideas then email at arcane_x@hotmail.com. The more thought out and less vulgar the email, the more likely I am to read it. As for the rest of my work on the Net, feel free to post and distribute as you wish so long as credit and the above address remains attached.
It was silly of course, but that was the way that teenagers often were. Silly to be alone, silly to be in the dark, silly for it to be so late. But she felt like exploring. No one had been down in the tunnels for centuries; at least that was the feeling she got being down here. Her flashlight cut a thin ribbon of light through the sea of blackness but it was enough to light her way. It was hard to get lost in the single tunnels and even if she did, it would be fairly easy to find her way out. She didn't really know what she was looking for. In a way she wasn't. She was just wandering, hoping she'd find something. She wouldn't. It would find her.
Her foot sluiced into a puddle of thick mud, barely letting her retrieve it. She tugged and got it free, only to find her next step caught in it as well. She shone her light down to see what it was.
"Yuck!" she exclaimed, seeing her boot up to the ankle in a thick green ooze.
She tugged again, this time finding it harder to pull her leg out. Shining the torch light around, she saw more of the ooze. There seemed to be a pile of it, about three times the mass of a human, although spread out more. Her light flicked from side to side, making the slime look like it was moving. She stepped back, only to find her foot caught again. She tugged and pulled, lifting her foot into the air. Her foot, not her boot. The slime seemed to absorb the boot before her very eyes.
She moved away hastily but her foot caught in the slime again. This time she felt her sock being eaten away. The oozing slime crept over her skin, between her toes. Her other foot was engulfed suddenly, boot rapidly absorbed. She tried to move again but this time the ooze was less relenting. It clung to her feet as she tugged and before she knew it her balance had gone. Her landing was soft, though she wished it had been harder. She was on her back and the torch tumbled to one side of the tunnel, lighting up her body. She lifted an arm only to find it stuck. Both arms were stuck. She watched as the green goo slid over her feet and legs, up her arms. As it went she saw her shirt and jeans vanishing. Rapidly the slime coated her like a second skin. It ran over her bra and panties, dissolving them until she lay naked. Finally it covered every inch of her flesh below the chin. She tried to speak but her vocal chords seemed depressed.
Then it started.
It was a shaking, a vibrating...a massage.
She gasped, her eyes rolled back slightly, drool dripping from her mouth. Her nipples rose up to meet the sucking slime. Her body opened itself and the slime drove in.
Wracked with pleasure and voice silenced, her mouth contorted in scream after scream after scream.
Willow awoke, not wanting to get up, and remained lying there until her alarm clock firmly protested that she get up. She resisted the urge to either mumble to herself or yawn and proceeded to shuffle through the hallway to the bathroom in her nightie, hoping that a shower would wake her up a little. She paused at the mirror beside the shower, staring at the image of her own face. It was cute, big eyes, red hair. But it was never her that people looked at. It was always Buffy. Buffy this and Buffy that. Willow Rosenberg won science prizes but never made the papers. Every week seemed to have Buffy in there somewhere.
Of course that was because she was a Slayer. And because Sunnydale was a center of evil. But that did little for the teenage ego of a girl who was sick of being overlooked. She pulled off her nightie and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water run over her skin. It felt good to get in the shower, to warm up or to cool down. Either way Willow liked the caress of water on her naked skin. She ran soap over herself, working up a lather and rinsing off, shampooing her hair. She got out of the shower and wiped away the steam from the mirror. She was still Willow Rosenberg. She had been every time Willow wiped away the steam in the past and she would be every time she did so in the future. A plain girl that everyone seemed to overlook, no matter how many times she tried to wipe her old self away. She was never going to be anything more than this, never going to be a film star or a model. Never going to make love on a tropical beach.
She sighed once and returned to her room, drying off. She put on her plain, boring underwear and a plain boring bra, followed by a T-shirt, sweater and jeans. She allowed one more sigh before going down for breakfast.
It was lunch break and the library was all but abandoned. It had to be the least used library in the history of education. At least that was the way that Willow saw it. Chances were that of the five assembled in the room, only herself and Giles had ever really used it, though Xander might if a title with 'Sex' caught his eye. Pretty much the same went for Cordelia, though it would have to include 'Boys' too. Buffy wasn't dumb but she wasn't exactly a bookworm. Willow sighed for the umpteenth time that day. A bookworm was exactly the way the world saw her. If they saw her at all.
"Jesse Paterson was found wandering naked out by West Park," Cordelia said. Willow hadn't been listening to the rest of the conversation but that caught her attention.
"I took a computer course with her last year," the redhead remarked.
"Jesse Paterson?" Xander seemed to ignore her, eyes firmly on Cordelia, not just because she was speaking. "Wandering I can figure, but naked? She was the original tomboy."
"What else do you know?" Buffy asked from her position on top of one of the study desks, where she sat cross- legged, fiddling with a stake.
"The police found no evidence of violence or sexual assault." Giles put in. "She's also totally incoherent. Babbling meaningless sounds. No response to communication."
"How long has she been missing?"
"I saw her yesterday." Willow suggested.
"Police say about five last night she slipped out. No idea where she went." Giles uninterrupted conversation made Willow feel like something of a missing person herself.
"No signs of any foul play at all?" Buffy contemplated.
"Nothing. But of course the police didn't look for anything out of the ordinary."
"You think this could be something supernatural?" Cordelia asked.
"Oh come on, Cor." Xander rolled his eyes, "It's always supernatural in this town. If a jar falls off a shelf it's probably because a ghost did it or something."
"So what are we looking for?" Buffy hopped of the desk.
"There's very little we can do." Giles considered. "We have so little information. I doubt I can get to see the girl anytime soon. Chances are the poor thing will wind up in a mental hospital."
"With no reason why." Buffy chewed her lip. "Keep your eyes open people. We have no idea what we're looking for."
Officer Jane Mason had absolutely no idea what she was looking for. This was one of the many places that the Paterson girl might have gone, but there was no real evidence. Besides, the tunnels had been unused for years, not since the industry in the area had closed down. Jane shivered as another drop of water landed on her short blonde hair. She hated this sort of environment. She hated getting dirty. Certainly it was an odd opinion for a cop, but it wasn't work she was worried about. Bars and brawls were one thing, but tunnels in the dark were just icky. Her flashlight gave plenty of illumination, but there was no doubt that the place was generally yuck.
"Dispatch. This is Mason. There's nothing down her worth looking at. Next chance I'm going back up to the surface. Over."
She clipped the radio back into her belt, hoping that a ladder would come soon enough. Luckily, she was not disappointed. An opening about ten feet above her would lead into one of the disused factory lots and she could walk back to her car in the sunlight. She stepped up to the ladder and reached for the rungs.
"Yuck!" she exclaimed aloud as she felt her foot sink up to the ankle in a pile of ooze. Looking down she saw the green slime and shivered in disgust. She tugged at it, pulling her foot up. The slime trailed down in gooey drops, reconnecting to the larger puddle. She saw that she couldn't reach the ladder in one step and that her other foot would have to go into the goo as well. Gritting her teeth and wincing, she stepped into the goo and tried to lift her foot. She couldn't. She tugged and tugged again but the boot was firmly stuck. Pulling her other foot she found that it too was fixed. Then she felt the creeping. Looking down she saw tiny tendrils of the green ooze dripping.
But they were dripping up!
They were running up her ankle and up her trouser legs: some over, some under. She could feel them on her skin, cold trails of slime. She shivered and renewed her efforts, tugging at her feet but unable to free them. The slime had reached the back of her knees.
Using the ladder she tugged with her arms, trying to get leverage but again having no luck. The slime reached up her thigh. Finally, in terror she went to reach for her radio.
"Hello," she called, her voice trembling with fear. "Hello? Central? Central!" There was nothing but static. Holding the radio away from her she saw the slime dripping from it. The radio was useless. Shivering with fear she gripped the rungs and tugged, dropping the radio into the ooze. She felt the ooze crawling about her waist in thin tentacles, running along the black fabric of her pants. She frantically tried one last time to pull herself up.
She did not pull herself up.
The slime did pull her trousers down.
Now irrational with fear, she looked down to her feet, seeing the dissolving remains of her boots and now pants. Already new tendrils were creeping up her bare legs.
"NO!" she screamed in terror. "Help Me!" she yelled up the manhole. "Help."
No one heard.
The slime rose up, she could feel it grip her now, tugging at her. Her white knuckle grasp on the ladder rungs remained unbroken. The slime ran up her back and over her shoulders, dissolving a thin trail as it went so that her blue police shirt slid off in pieces, rapidly dissolved into the mass. It ran up her arms and over her chest, ignoring her protests. It dissolved her bra strap and the garment fell off easily her ample bosom freed. The ooze quickly moved to cover it, forming a second, transparent green bra. A few seconds later it did so with her panties. More tendrils rose, weaving together so that soon her entire body below the neck was covered tightly by the ooze. By this point Jane was well lost in fear, knuckles tighter than ever.
Until it started.
It shook and shuddered, every inch of her flesh following suit.
Jane Mason had known men before, but it was nothing like this. This was everything, everywhere, all at once. It was more than any woman could hope to bear.
She came. Once. Twice. A thousand times. It was too hard to count. Every second was so superior to an orgasm. It drove deeper and deeper and deeper still every inch another thrill.
Jane Mason's eyes rolled back in her head.
She screamed "FUCK!" once and then let go, sliding into a quivering heap and getting precisely what she'd requested.
Jesse Paterson probably wouldn't have made article four on the news. When Jane Mason was found lying on the back seat of her patrol car, naked and catatonic, it was pushed up to number one. It caught people's attention, more for its bizarre circumstances than actual concern. The late night footage of the two woman was moderately censored but enough to get a rise in ratings. No doubt Buffy was talking to Giles about it, but Willow wouldn't hear from them until they needed computer help. Right now, that was exactly what she was doing, albeit pre-emptively. Willow sipped on her hot chocolate as she sifted through old databases, looking for a match up. Hours went by and nothing relevant came up but Willow had nothing better to do with her life so it was no problem. Anyone else might have given up earlier but she kept trying until...
"Dylan Hunter." Willow slapped the printout triumphantly down on Giles' desk. When the others looked at her in confusion, she explained. It was back in 1986. A number of women appeared about town, naked and rambling. Gradually they spoke and they told stories of sexual molestation."
"They were raped?" Cordelia asked with a shiver in her voice.
"In a sense. But it seemed that their captor never actually had sex with them. He didn't care about his own sexual gratification or rather he got it from theirs."
"Huh?" Xander made a typically confused remark.
"He was obsessed with pleasuring the women. He wanted to take them to a higher plane or something. He used everything, manual or oral stimulation, tools, hypnosis. He'd masturbate them for hours. By the time he finally let them go, they were wrecks."
"So what happened?"
"Well the cops got testimonies. They came to a single suspect. His name was Dylan Hunter. Eighteen years old, antisocial, isolated. Smart but a school dropout. He was operating his little shop in the basements of one of the old chemical factories by the tunnels. This was in the days when they were still operating. Anyway they tracked him down and he ran. The police were pretty pissed off with the guy. They searched the place, people heard a shot and they ran to find Dylan's body sinking into one of the drainage ponds. The cop said he'd drawn a weapon and he'd been forced to shoot him. They never found any trace of a weapon. The cop's wife had been one of the subjects."
"So the guy died." Xander shrugged. "What's the point?"
"The point is, they never found a body."
"The guy was face down in toxic waste with a bullet in him, Will?"
"So? No one ever dies in this town. They always keep coming back."
"Now Willow," Giles spoke at last, "I know you think this is a likely case and I'm inclined to agree with you but I don't see what can be done."
"Well the factories were closed down not long after. Those buildings are derelict. Perfect for someone to live and work from."
"If you don't mind living with roaches," said Xander
"Eeww!" Cordelia shivered at the thought.
"Those factories are way out of town. Nowhere near where the women were found." Buffy commented
"And besides that place is falling apart. No one would go down there." Giles shrugged.
"Exactly!" Willow pleaded. "It's perfect."
"If it is this fellow then he'll resurface soon enough." Giles rationalized. The police will catch him. If anything your theory tells us that we should keep out of this for now."
"But..."
"Giles is right, Willow." Buffy said grimly. "I guess we can't take care of all the wackos."
It was silly of course but she didn't care. Willow walked down the tunnel, flashlight moving from side to side. She hadn't actually told anyone but she'd left a note for Buffy who was constantly on the phone. The factories were well away from where the women were found but the tunnels that lead from the factories were close. Willow knew that she'd have to get evidence before anyone would listen to her. The land was private and she was trespassing, but she didn't care. It was something to do. And if she was right then they would have to listen to her, to respect her at last. If she needed help she could always call on her pocket radio.
So far there was nothing. Nothing but goo and muck. She kept walking anyway, coming round a corner to a ladder. Here her flashlight caught it.
A baton. A police baton. She walked over to it, examining how it was half eaten away. Suddenly she though that it might be a little less safe than she first thought. She considered turning back but then thought how stupid she'd feel.
"Just a little further," she said to herself.
The tunnel only went a little further. It opened out into a circular room, which was dark but at least a little drier. At least it seemed that way until Willow stepped into the pile of goo. She looked down at the green slime, screwing up her face in disgust. She tried to lift her foot but failed. Then she saw it move. The slime rose up over the top of her muddy shoes, encasing it. Then it did the same to her other shoe. For a second she watched in stunned surprise but then she pulled out her radio. It was then that she slipped.
It was more as though she was pulled down. Willow fell to her knees, dropping the radio as she hit the ground. Somehow it was soft though. Looking down she saw that her knees had been saved by more of the green slime. Looking, it was clear to see that the radio was out of reach. Willow watched as the slim tendrils curled their way up her legs, over her knees and up her thighs to her shorts. They went over and under, expanding and ripping the material until only her panties remained.
Suddenly, Willow's fear gave way to revelation.
"I know you," she whispered.
The slime stopped moving.
"You're Dylan aren't you? Dylan Hunter? You didn't die. You just...became this stuff."
The ooze didn't move at all. Willow reached down and took a small blob in her hand.
"Can you understand me?"
The blob seemed to tremble slightly.
"How can I talk to you?"
The blob seemed to move, forming into a vague shape. An ear!
Willow lifted the blob and pressed it to her ear. She shivered as she felt it press deeply against her.
Willow felt it shaking. The vibrations were moving through her ear, a vague attempt to form sounds.
"...uuuuuuuuu nnnnnnnoooooooo mmmmmmmeeeeeee."
Despite her situation Willow smiled slightly.
"Yes. I know you. I know how you feel. You're lonely aren't you?"
"llllooownleeeeeeee"
"But you have to stop. Women don't want this."
"wwwooommennn dddoooowwnntt llliiikkee?"
"No."
"ssssooorrrreee. ooonlllleee wwanttt too pppleeeese."
"But you can't do it that way."
"hhheeeelp mmmeeeee."
"I will. Just tell me how."
Willow felt a soft tingling on he legs, the tendrils massaging her."
"uuuuuuuuu lllliiiiikkee?"
She thought for a second. "Yes."
"yooouuuuuu wwwaaant?"
For a second she considered the offer. On one hand, this was a monster, a rapist. On the other hand, it was a lost soul that needed help. And her. What did she want?
"Yes." Willow said. The tendrils started to spread, rubbing her harder. Willow giggled to herself, lifting off her T-shirt and dropping it to the ground. The ooze was working its way up over her hips and stomach as she unclipped her bra. She giggled again as it brushed over her belly. It had encased her waist, dissolving away her panties and filling their place. Willow leaned back, putting her hands down for balance. Instantly tendrils shot up her arms too. Willow inhaled deeply despite the less than fresh air. Then ooze reached her breasts, cupping under them and running up to encase them. Waves ran up her back, massaging her further. Finally it stopped, having encased her up to the neck. Willow felt the tight cling of the substance, hugging her closer than any man could ever hope to.
"M-my name is Willow."
"willloooww wwaanntt?"
"Yes I wAAAAAHH!"
Willow couldn't help herself from howling out aloud. The pleasure was almost unimaginable. Every nerve in her body suddenly seemed to be erupting with pleasure. She felt the rolling, vibrating gel massage her breasts, nipple rising up almost instantly. The ooze undulated and lapped between her legs, slowly going deeper and deeper inside her, touching her tender flesh with expertise. Each part of her body was treated in its own fashion. Her back was massaged, her buttocks stroked, her shoulders rubbed. The ooze vibrated gently on her hands and feet sending a pleasant numbness to her brain. Willow gasped and moaned, her voice unable to fully describe the delight she felt. Never in her life had she felt so happy, so carefree, as she did now.
"llie doownn."
Willow gently lay back, the ooze providing a cushion for her. She lay her arms out above her head, stretching her legs and bending her knees. She felt the ooze move deeper into her again. Her stiff nipples were being squeezed and stroke gently, soft enough for her to desire more. She felt the ooze running over her neck, up towards her other ear.
"ennjooyy." The voice came from both ears.
"Yes." Willow panted, smiling as she rolled her eyes back.
The slime kept creeping over her, stroking her cheek. Small tendrils slipped into her mouth, running over her tongue. Instantly she was stimulated with hundreds of wonderful tastes, every delicacy she'd ever imagined bombarded her. Her breasts bounced up and down as she gasped and shook. Still the gel slipped upwards.
"What?" Willow gasped.
"doon't bee aafraaid."
The blobs slipped over her eyes. For a brief moment Willow felt the compulsion to squirm, to clear her eyes. But then she relaxed, her eyes no longer needing to blink. Somehow the slime was stimulating her optic nerve, sending images into her. They were hazy, pleasant images, peaceful pastel whirls.
Willow sighed with happiness.
"Yoou wiill coome noow."
The vibrations at her groin increased the appendage swiftly pumping in and out. It only took three or four pumps before the orgasm erupted through her body. Her muscles clenched, nerves on fire. Release flowed through her with flaming energy. She felt the slime about her quivering too, absorbing the energy that she released.
"More." Willow gasped hungrily.
Again the slime began to work on her flushed body. Ooze sloshed and rubbed between her cleavage, rubbing the nipples so that their swelling never fell. Again thousands of fingers stroked her body, lovely lights relaxing her even as her body dashed towards further action. The slime kept pumping rhythmically, pressing into Willow, strumming her clitoris with unmatched precision. It took about another ten pumps before she came again, even more powerfully than the first time. This time the pumping kept going, massaging her body, relaxing her mind. Willow gasped for air, sensations filling her mind endlessly. She climaxed again. Then again, each time greater than the one before.
"willoow liike?"
"Y...y-yes," she shivered only to be cut off by another orgasm.
She saw a face in the haze, that of a young man. Through the pleasure she was able to recognize it.
"D...D...Dylaa.a.n."
"Willow."
She came again.
"Let Her Go!"
The shaking stopped. The smile receded. Still gasping for air, her eyes blinking to readjust Willow looked up.
"Bhhhg," she stammered, unable to form the word she meant.
Buffy.
The Slayer stood with her flashlight, looking in contempt and anger at the scene.
The slime reacted instantly, drawing off Willow's naked body and leaping at Buffy. The slayer dodged but it was too fast. An arm shot down her low cut blouse. Buffy stopped for an instant, letting out a gasp. Willow could tell that Dylan was playing with her nipples, softening her up. Unfortunately, Buffy was a little stronger than he thought. She flipped back and when it pounced again she was ready. The slime ran straight into a tazer. Instantly the arcs of blue electricity covered the surface of the gel. It crackled and sparked, the slime seeming to turn in on itself. Willow tried to speak but she was incapable. She was helped to her feet by Xander, who hugged her nude body a little longer than he should have before putting his jacket over her.
The three teens watched as the ooze writhed, contracting and folding, shrinking and letting off a horrible stench into the air. Finally there was a puff of smoke and the last remaining green gel evaporated into the tunnels stale air.
Buffy humphed, straightening her top and bra.
"Like so many men," she commented, "he just needed someone to say 'no'."
Willow whimpered, unable to speak as a tear ran down her face. Buffy had no idea what she was talking about.
He had just needed someone to say 'yes'.
"Both women are gradually coming out of it." Giles said plainly. "Of course they have no recollection of it. Their minds are trying to block it out."
"You never know, Will. If we hadn't got there you might have ended up in a loony bin."
Willow sat on the floor against the wall of the library and said nothing.
"Yeah that’s really supportive, Xander." Cordelia reprimanded.
"Sorry Will."
"So far as I can tell, Dylan's conscious was passed into a chemical mass. One that could reshape itself and dissolve matter when it wished."
"Didn't like electricity much." Buffy commented.
"No. I suppose that the bonds were broken by electrolysis."
"Well at least we got rid of him. A pile of ash isn't going to hurt anyone."
Willow stood up with her bag and walked quickly and silently out of the room, not looking at her companions. For a few seconds they said nothing.
"Will she be okay?" Xander asked with genuine concern.
"It will take time, I imagine." Giles said gravely.
"I can't imagine what she went through." Cordelia shivered.
"Neither can I." Buffy said, looking at the still swinging door. "Neither can I."
Willow lay in her bed, nightie on her bedside chair, sheets pulled back so the night air caressed her skin. It was nothing like the touch she'd experienced, of course; the touch not only of someone who treated her well, but also of someone who she sympathized with. Lonely, unappreciated, ignored unless active then scorned for caring too much. Dylan Hunter hadn't got any better a deal the second time around than the first.
Maybe the third would be his chance to be loved.
Willow held the small blob in her hand, no bigger than a matchbox. She placed it on her belly and let it crawl down, slipping inside her, back to where it had hidden away when Buffy destroyed the rest of it.
Willow sighed. Maybe in time he would grow. Until then she would look after him.
Willow softly fell asleep as the slime began its work.
All night Willow dreamed.
She lay in the arms of the attractive Dylan Hunter as they made love on a tropical beach from dusk till dawn.
(II) HELL'S MOUTH, HEAVEN'S GATE
She ran into the darkness, half hunter, half prey. Her limbs were tensed, ready for action, fists clenched tight. Had there been light her white knuckles would have shown. So would her slim, athletic body, her smooth blonde hair and her attractive yet determined face.
Her name was Buffy Summers. She was a Slayer, a hunter of vampires in a town where evil and the supernatural were all too real. At any moment another creature could threaten the world and it was her job to stop them.
She was half hunter, half prey, but she was ready.
Ready for attack. Ready to fight. Ready to defend.
She wasn't ready to fall.
The hole that she tumbled into was no hellmouth but it was just as dangerous. Buffy tried to level herself out, trying to brace for landing, but she crashed against a wall, sending her head over feet. She tumbled over and over, felt a jarring pain and then... nothing…
Darkness gave way to more darkness, Buffy regaining consciousness only to find herself in the dark again.
No. Not quite the dark. There were eyes. Red eyes. They were watching her, waiting for her.
She got to her feet, wincing at her bruises, trying to avoid thinking about how badly she might be injured.
Instead she focused on fighting. She assumed a battle pose, trying to keep her eyes in as many places as possible.
It wasn't quite as dark as she'd first thought. As she waited, listening to her own breathing, Buffy noticed a dim light coming from somewhere. It couldn't be defined but it allowed her to make out the shapes of things around her. They were twisted, distorted. Horrible beasts of nightmares. In spite of herself Buffy shivered.
They attacked.
It was like a wave of thorns crashing down on her without method or restraint. The beasts lashed at her, punching and kicking and pushing as she fought them. Pain flashed through her body as they struck her but she ignored it, giving as good as she got. She kicked and punched and slashed with the wooden stake in the hand. They might not be vampires but they could be impaled just the same. They fought in a frenzy and Buffy did the same. She'd learned to repress the nausea which came with killing. Without that skill the blood and gore which now flew in the air would have made it impossible to fight. It was hard enough not to worry which blood was hers.
When the assault finally ended Buffy found herself puffing, sweat mixing with blood, hers and her attackers'. Her shirt had been reduced to shreds and her bra looked as if it was strained too, not merely because of her ample bosom, which rose and fell heavily. Her jeans were ripped and bloodied, another designer label down the drain.
Buffy looked around her hoping that her right eye was obscured by a matted fringe and sweat, not dripping blood. There were still eyes but considerably less now. Still enough to make her work hard. Gritting her teeth she took the first offensive.
Buffy leapt forward stabbing one monster through the chest and kicking another, sending its neck snapping back with sickly resonance.
She fought. It was what she was used to. It was her destiny.
The creatures fell to her assault, still biting and clawing at her. It was all so natural to her that she barely noticed the dwindling numbers of the things.
Before she knew it she was standing alone, surrounded by blooded masses of demonic beasts.
Buffy had won.
She dropped the stake, feeling for the first time the true extent of the pain she was in.
Her bra had fallen off. She only noticed when she felt a pain in her chest and pressed her palm to a naked bosom. It was painful. It was also dripping blood. More like flowing.
Buffy gasped, falling to her knees as she felt her strength fading. She tried to compress the wound but her hands were going numb. Her entire body was. She felt tired, exhausted.
Without a word Buffy tumbled forward among the bloody beasts.
Like them, no movement or breath came from her body.
Buffy opened her eyes. It was dark. Even darker than before. At least that was the way it seemed. She tested her legs and, feeling surprise but no pain, got to her feet. She felt strong, better than ever before somehow. She couldn't feel the blood on her body any more either.
And she was wrong again. There was still a light. Dim but getting stronger. Or perhaps her eyes were adjusting. She blinked once or twice. It was definitely becoming brighter, bright enough to see herself.
Her clothes were intact again, clean and untorn. She raised a silent eyebrow wondering what was going on here. Then she looked down.
The bodies were still there, beaten and bloody corpses of her opponents.
And one other.
One cut, bruised, topless and lifeless girl lying face down among the carnage.
Even before the light was fully illuminating the room it was easy enough to figure out the identity of the victim.
It was her.
Buffy felt like she should be sick or weak but she felt neither urge. In fact she felt a detached peace about the situation.
She was dead. There was no need to argue about it.
The light was becoming bright now, blocking out her surroundings in a white cloud.
Buffy watched as the bodies melted away into whiteness. She felt herself beginning to float, gravity losing its effect on her as she rose higher and higher into the illuminating stream.
There were colors cascading around her, a glorious kaleidoscope of lights and shapes passing her as she flew through the air without resistance. She felt so light and peaceful wondering where she was going.
It was something of an anticlimax when she arrived in a small white room. It was a very small room in fact, soft floors and walls with no sign of entry or exit.
Buffy waited for a second, realizing she wasn't standing, only floating.
Then a figure appeared.
"Willow?" Buffy asked staring in confusion at her redheaded friend, who stood before her white robes.
"No," the redhead smiled peacefully. "I simply take the form of one you trust."
"Am I...?"
"Yes, Buffy. Soon you will be in paradise."
"But?"
"But there are things we must discern. Everyone has their own different heaven. We must discover yours."
"And how do you do that?"
"Fill in these forms."
Buffy felt as if she'd been filling in forms for hours but she wasn't at all tired. At first they'd been simple enough: Name, age, hobbies. She didn't bother making anything up or trying to hide her true identity. There was little point after all. Gradually the questions got more and more personal until Buffy finally realized they were asking mostly about her sexual preferences and fantasies. It seemed odd initially, but it made sense. After all, it was going to be heaven. Pages and pages of details went by: erogenous zones, favorite spots and the like. Fantasies and dreams. Buffy didn't feel at all embarrassed by the list. Finally she came to the last page and signed the whole massive document.
"Good."
Buffy turned around to see Willow, or rather the girl who looked like Willow. "Come this way."
Buffy followed, wondering what on earth would come next.
Buffy looked at the platform. Buffy looked at Willow. Willow looked at Buffy.
"You don't understand?"
"No." Buffy admitted.
"To reach happiness you must let go of the past world. Stand in the circle."
Buffy walked up onto the round platform and stood wondering what to do.
"Your past life will be stripped away. You have to let it go. Don't worry, you keep the good memories. It's just the bad ones that have to go."
"But how..."
"Just let it happen."
Willow disappeared as walls of light appeared around Buffy. She stood in the circle, which was about two meters across, wondering what would happen. Perhaps it would just be best to relax. She let herself relax, her body no longer bound by gravity or mortal fears. She felt her feet drift off the ground softly. Buffy breathed deeply, watching the walls as they spun around and around. There were swirls of color everywhere, dancing over her relaxed body.
"Let go…" she told herself quietly as she stared into the lights. "Just let go."
She relaxed her body even more, her head lolling about her neck, limbs going limp, muscles untensing. It felt good, there was no doubt about it. Her thoughts drifted to her friends, Xander and Cordelia, shallow but deep in their own ways. Giles with his help and wisdom. And Willow, the kindest and most innocent of them all. Buffy couldn't bare to think of her being harmed. But they would be all right. Things would be fine.
Buffys gaze wandered as her mind came back from dreaming. The light was still everywhere, dancing over her arms and the smooth flesh of her thighs. Buffy blinked. Her jeans were gone now. Perhaps this was what came from letting go, losing the material bonds of earth. Buffy smiled. It didn't matter anymore anyhow.
It felt so wonderfully warm here. Like being on a tropical beach, just the way she longed of going on holiday. A warm tropical island, far away from darkness and vampires. Where she could lie on the beach and make love at sunset in the warm waters. She could almost feel the water on her skin, somehow sensuous to touch.
Buffy smiled again. Her shirt was gone now. She could no longer feel its weight on her body. Looking down she saw her bra holding in her youthful breasts. Even covered she could see the way the light flashed over the smooth skin, the faint hints of nipples pressing through the fabric. She would be topless on the beach, never worrying about what the world thought or what people might say. None of that would matter. She would display her bosom to the world with no shame. After all, it was impressive in its fashion, firm and upright. She could see her breasts now, free and unbound by the now vanished brassiere. Her rosy nipples formed cute little nubs on her smooth orbs. How nice it would be to feel the tropical waters flow over her naked torso, warm yet cool. The salty drops would drip down her cleavage... No… her paradise would be fresh water. There was no longer a need for earthbound concepts. Fresh water would run over her bosom then down to meet her stomach then her groin. That would be wet too, in the lovely waters. Exposed to the oceans touch. Yes… she would live naked, unhindered by the clothes which repressed her on the earth. This would be her dream, free from the restraints of the old reality.
Buffy felt herself floating around and around, now fully nude, unbridled by her clothes. She gazed into the beautiful lights as they spun around and around. They were everywhere, all at once and she wanted to see every one of them. It was so peaceful, so pleasant and relaxing.
So nice... so very nice...
A beach. A tropical beach.
Buffy sat on a smooth, warm rock staring at the gentle surf rolling in on the golden sands.
Her mind had been wandering, as if in another place entirely.
She looked up at the warm sun coming down, bathing her body.
She knew that the wonderful light would always warm her, never burning. Even though she wore no protection on her nude body she knew she was safe. Perfectly safe.
"Impressive, isn't it?"
Buffy turned to see Willow standing behind her. She too was nude, unworried about her appearance. She was smiling serenely as she surveyed the surroundings.
"Where are we?" Buffy asked.
"This is your heaven, Buffy. This is where you will be happy."
"But... What do I do?"
"How about a swim." Willow giggled as she ran down the beach, diving headlong into the water.
Buffy stood up, taking a deep breath of the pleasant air. Why not go for a swim?
She hurried down the smooth sand and dived in after her friend. The water was wonderful. Cool, yet warm at the same time. Fresh, not salty, and impossibly clear. She dove through the water, among he beautiful coral and fish. She could see perfectly in the water, not needing goggles or a mask. Everything was perfect. There was no need to hold her breath. She could breathe the magical waters as perfectly as she could any air.
Buffy burst to the surface, flicking her head back sending a spray of crystal droplets through the air.
"See. It's great here." Willow smiled, brushing red hair from her face.
"But what are you doing here?"
"I'm not really Willow," the girl said, paddling on her back leisurely. "I'm just what you want to be here. Someone you trust." She turned over and breaststroked over to Buffy. "Someone you care about. Someone you love."
"So Willow is fine?"
"Willow is doing great, Buffy," the redhead smiled and kissed Buffy softly on the cheek.
"What was that?"
"A kiss." Willow giggled as she paddled through the water, floating effortlessly.
"Why?"
"It's your world, not mine."
"So then..."
"Nothing is wrong here." Willow placed her hand on Buffy's shoulder. "Everything you ever dreamed will come true. You can bask in the sun. Dive through the waters... make love on a tropical beach." She squeezed Buffy gently.
"Anything?"
"Anything at all. What do you want, Buffy?"
Buffy thought. Anything goes. No limits. No rules.
"Kiss me again."
Willow softly pressed her lips to Buffy's, kissing her gently but with passion. Initially hesitant, Buffy quickly responded, kissing back. She wrapped her arms around Willows slender waist and the red head responded in kind, running her fingers over Buffy's back. The entwined couple sank under the water but had no need to stop. The floated there, free of gravity, half way between air and the seabed. Buffy felt exploring hands run over her body, across her breasts with slickness only water could give. She felt Willow curling around her like a serpent, limbs entwining her. Buffy found herself totally helpless but perfectly willing to submit to the treatment she was getting. Willow's magic fingers swirled over her chest, exciting her in ways she'd never thought possible before. Buffy felt fingertips brushing against her erect nipples, strumming them softly but so strongly that she shivered.
She felt Willows legs wrap around her, curling into her inner thighs and pulling her legs apart. While one hand continued to massage her breasts the other slipped lower and lower, slowly probing then gently pressing onto Buffy. Fingers stoked her vulva, making her quiver even more in Willow's impossibly strong hold. The single finger located her clitoris with ease that could only come from self-knowledge. This was Buffy's dream and it showed. Buffy felt as if it would end there and then but somehow Willow kept it going. Buffy was being held on the precipice of orgasmic pleasure, wracked by delight but not quite coming just yet. Willow was kissing her neck and back, still rubbing her nipples. This was heaven without a doubt. Heavenly setting. Heavenly company. Heavenly orgasm.
Buffy let out a huge stream of bubbles as her mouth opened wide in a howl of joy. Even as she came she could feel Willow kissing her, rubbing her, making sure she felt every last drop of pleasure. It went on and on, far longer than any earthly orgasm could ever go. Buffy felt dizzy, lost in an orgasmic haze as the pleasure swept her away.
Next thing she knew she was lying on the sand, Willow hugging her close as the sunset cast golden light on the beach.
She smiled at Willow, knowing her friend would always be there even only in her mind. She was someone she could always trust, always confide in and never ever betray.
Even as Willow slept, Buffy was watching her.
Even as Buffy slept, Willow was watching her.
She watched her lying naked in the pile of green slime which coated her from head to toe.
It was not just any slime. It was her lover, Dylan Hunter. Killed by police and almost killed by the very girl he now manipulated. Dylan was no longer human. But he loved Willow and she loved him back. She had nursed the small remains of him back, growing larger and larger with every delightful orgasm her gave her. But they could never be happy. Not while Buffy was the way she was. She would never have understood. She had to be taught.
Dylan was good at inducing false reality. He and Willow had been working on it for months now. Buffy had fallen down the hole sure enough, following a few clues that Willow had planted. She'd landed in a pile of slime with no injury. But immediately it had engulfed her, rendering her world black. Willow knew they had to get Buffy on their side. They had to find out all her desires. So Willow figured out a plan.
They killed Buffy.
Not really, of course, but to Buffy it was real. The pain of dying and the bliss afterwards. Most of Buffy's sensations were simply manipulations of her spinal nerves. Her state of fearlessness and bliss was hormonal, induced by Dylan's secretions. Together Willow and he had given Buffy heaven. Now she lay there, peaceful, nude and when she awoke, perfectly understanding. She would do anything for Willow now. Never betraying her or hurting her. She wouldn't remember her 'heaven' of course. But it would be enough. Just to get her off their backs so they could enjoy each other's love.
*She's happy now.* Dylan resonated, his skill in communications vastly improved since his relationship with Willow began.
"Yes." Willow smiled. "Very happy. Put her to bed."
The mass of slime shifted, carrying Buffy's sleeping form to a makeshift mattress in the corner of the room. Willow's secret hiding place was a little dark, but neat enough. Willow carefully dressed Buffy again, the blonde girl mumbling in her sleep but not waking. She wouldn't recall Dylan ever having touched her. It was better for her that way. For now she would sleep it off in happy oblivion.
*What now?* Dylan said slyly.
"Well," Willow smiled as she peeled off her T-shirt to reveal youthful breasts with erect nipples, "I have a few ideas..."
And seconds later, while Buffy rested in sweet dreams, Willow Rosenberg and a handsome young Dylan Hunter made passionate love below the tropical waters…
THE END??
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