Live, From The Arena

Disclaimers: Joss Whedon is a selfish wanker who should give us all Spikes of our own. Oh, well, at least his momma taught him how to share, right? He still has it all.
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Redwulf posted a challenge on the tagboard. I am a real sucker for challenges—so I took on the task, and here it is, for better or worse. I have to credit Slaymesoftly for the fang thingie, it was too neat to pass up. I think the rest is my own. I hope so, I typed the whole damn thing.


Buffy woke up in a darkened area. She couldn’t see how large it was, but her movements seemed to echo off the walls. She didn’t move, looking around to see if there was any danger. Her Slayer sense was rocketing, telling her there was something vicious and dangerous nearby. She barely moved her head, and could see nothing in the gloom that surrounded her.

She moved her feet, and found them loose, to her relief. At least she could run. Her hands were pillowed under her head, so they were loose as well. She started to rise up, and was jerked back to the ground by something fastened around her neck. She raised her hands to her throat, and her fingers found a collar of some sort, leather, with padding all the way around to prevent her harm.

When she tried to roll over, she discovered her nudity. She scrambled to cover herself, then laid down flat on her stomach. So what if someone saw her ass? At least the important stuff was covered.

She turned her head, and a moue of disgust crossed her face. So that’s why she couldn’t move.

He was flat of his back, a collar similar to hers around his neck and nude as well. She quickly averted her eyes, never having seen anything like that before. Then, figuring in for a penny, in for a pound, she went ahead and looked. No harm, no foul, as long as he didn’t find out.

He was beautiful. His body was created of long sculpted lines of muscle and bone. His torso was lean and compact, toned pectoral muscles rivaled chiseled abs for their perfection. Jutting hipbones accentuated a fluffy cloud of light brown pubic hair. One knee was bent, the other straight, both exhibiting the definition of muscles and sinew. The last place she looked, wanted to look, was his cock. It coiled on his belly, resting in the dimple beneath his hipbone. Soft, it was an impressive piece of work. She was no judge, but it looked to be as big around as her wrist, and Buffy wondered if it was a big one. It looked like a big one.

“See anything you like, Slayer?”

His cocky voice jarred her out of her reverie, and interrupted her scrutiny of his cock, which was now growing. She couldn’t take her eyes off of it; she watched as it moved with a life of its own, now flopping up on his belly, past his navel. She could have sworn it winked at her with its one eye.

She met his eyes, and whispered, “Spike, where are we? And why—why are we naked?”

He looked at her for long moments. He didn’t get the benefit of discovery while she was still out, and now all he had to look at was her ass, but oh, what an ass it was. Plump, juicy buttocks, split down the middle like a ripe peach. Downy fuzz, barely noticeable, except if you were vampire. Trim, toned legs, a long, lean back with a nip in at the waist. Spike curled his tongue behind his teeth, sniffing unobtrusively to scent the Slayer’s arousal. He could smell her virginal musk over her sudden fear and indigence. The thought of her, a virgin, plus the Slayer, made his cock twitch, and it immediately attracted her eyes.

“So, pet, what do you think? Am I all manly?” He moved his hands down his body to cup himself in a smarmy parody of his usual stance. “I feel all manly now.”

Lights came on overhead, and the Slayer and the vampire both closed their eyes against the sudden glare. A voice came over a loudspeaker.

“Tonight in the Arena, we have a special treat for you. The Slayer, and her nemesis, William the Bloody, in a shagmatch to the death.”

An official looking demon stepped closer to them. “Make it a good show, ‘kay? ‘Cause, you know, all of our asses are on the line here. Spike, no draining. Slayer, no staking. Shag until you dust or die. Any questions?”

“Do we have to dust or die? Can’t there be, like, a draw?”

“If the judges think that you have done well, they can call it a draw. But I’ll tell you, missy, in all the years I’ve done this, tha’s only happened once, and that was over 600 years ago. Little hellion by the name of Anyanka—nobody knows what happened to her.”

She looked at Spike, and licked lips suddenly dry. “Spike. Spike. You know that I’ve never…I’m a….”

“I heard the man, Slayer. No draining.”

“No, Spike. I’m a virgin.”

He rubbed his hands together. “Bully for me, then.”

“Spike, it’s gonna hurt. If you—you’ll tear me in two.”

“And the bad part of that is?”

Tears filled her eyes, and she almost rolled over. “Spike, I don’t want to die.”

He reached up to her face. “Won’t kill you, pet. You’re too much fun to fight. Want to kill you in a fair fight, not a shagmatch for the demons.”

He rolled toward her, and began to touch her back lightly. “Love, let me fill you in. We have been captured and transported to a demon dimension that loves gaming of all kinds. This is one of the ways they get off—gaming that is, and we had better give them a good show, or they will rip us to shreds. And that’s just the kiddies.”

“There are kids here?”

“Turn of phrase, pet,” he answered, knowing that she would be put off by differences between demons and humans in general. “Now, at some point, you will have to turn over, because if you don’t, they’ll send in fluffers, and that is no good.”

“Have you seen stuff like this before?”

“Once, in Cuba. Demon and woman. The woman died.”

“Oh. What do I do?”

He could not believe after the time she had spent with Angelus, she still was this innocent. “Roll over and face me, love. I won’t bite.” Yet, he added in his mind.

She did, and he gazed appreciatively at the body she’d been hiding. Her muscle tone rivaled his own, her abs and legs just as spectacular as his. His eyes raked over her breasts, perfectly sized to fit in a man’s palm, her nipples crinkling in the cool air. Lower down, she had a light brown patch of fluff to match his own, and she covered it nervously with her hand when she realized where his eyes had roamed.

He took her wrist, and raised it to his mouth. “Now, now, pet, I’ll have to see it sooner or later. I would rather it was sooner.”

He saw the official over her shoulder, coming their way. “Do ya need some fluffing, or wha’? ‘Cause, uh, I can send them in, if they’re needed.”

“The chit’s a virgin, Ref. Don’t need a fluffer, maybe a silence spell, so she isn’t so terrified.”

A few moments later, she could no longer hear the catcalls from the crowd, and she relaxed slightly. Nor did she hear the announcer reporting her virgin status. If she had, she would have cringed.

He cupped her face, shielding her eyes from the harsh light. “Just close your eyes, pet. Just close your eyes, and I’ll do all the work. For now, at least.”

“Spike, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. If you don’t, we both die.”

She closed her eyes.

He brushed his hand across her arm, then continued to her hip. She trembled under his touch, from fear or desire he couldn’t tell; both scents were mixed in with her normal essence. He took her hand, and placed it on his waist, then leaned forward to claim her mouth with his. Her lips were softer than velvet under his mouth, and he teased them with his tongue until she allowed him entrance.

Her hand explored the muscled back and shoulders, winding up at the back of his neck, where bemused fingers played with the short curls there. He plundered her mouth with his tongue until she was breathless, then kissed down her jawline to the tender skin behind her ear. She made a soft sound of pleasure in her throat, and he moved on, around the collar to the base of her throat. She tensed for a moment, and then relaxed again as she succumbed to the sensation his tongue was rousing in her groin.

His mouth traveled further down, to the erect tip of her breast. He blew an icy breath on it, then licked it, a quick swipe of his tongue. She gasped aloud, and he could hear the crowd roaring despite the spell. Her hands were busy as well, exploring his biceps as he nuzzled her breast. He palmed it in his hand, pulling the flesh tight, and gently took the nipple in his mouth.

Her leg wrapped around his and her scent slammed into him, sending his demon to raging. He locked the little wanker in his mental cage, and continued to lick and suck her nipple until she was pliant and willing in his arms, then repeated the action on the other. Absentmindedly, he tweaked her nipple with a little bit more pressure than he’d been using, and the girl went wild beneath him. He moved closer to her, and she could feel the sheer size and hardness against her stomach. Her eyes flew open at the touch of his cock, and she started to back away.

“Now, none of that, my pretty one. Cor, you are a beauty, Slayer.”

She smiled, knowing he was doing his best to put her at ease. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He curled his tongue in his mouth again, and looked her over from head to toe. This was gonna be fun, he decided.

He raked his hand down her back, and pulled her hips to press against him. His cock pressed between the two of them, he moved his hips in slow, lazy thrusts, and knew she felt it. Knew she wanted it. The scent of her musk doubled and redoubled. It was exciting her, although she would be hard pressed to admit it.

He lifted her leg over his hip, and held it in place. His cock tickled the top of her mound, and she stifled a giggle, then a gasp as he touched her there. His fingers caressed her inner thighs, so warm, then moved to her slit, running a single digit back and forth until her hips rocked to meet him. He reached for her mouth again, and she took his kiss eagerly, not shyly like before. There was still hope yet.

“Buffy. Buffy. Do you want to be on top or bottom?”

She opened her eyes, and bit into her lip. “Which would be better?”

“For the first time? Bottom, I think. I have a little more control than you do.”

She closed her eyes, and rolled to her back, arms spread wide. He covered her with his body, not only for himself, but to keep the demons from viewing this angel of perfection. The bloody poet. Snarling inside, he slammed Willy in the cage with the demon. Stay there, you bloody ponce, he thought.

He cupped her face with his hand. “Pet, this will hurt at first. Don’t move. Don’t pull away. It does stop hurting, okay?”

She nodded, and he slid two fingers into her slit, massaging her clit until she relaxed beneath him, her hips moving against his hand. When they were slickened with her juices, he inserted one, then both into her heated channel, spreading them apart inside her in an attempt to stretch her untried muscles. He fucked his fingers in and out, pressing his palm against her clit while he laved her nipples with his tongue.

She began arching into his thrusts, eager for more. He inserted a third finger, and she cried out with delight. He reached deep for the nerves that he knew resided inside her, and pushed his knuckles against them. She grabbed his arms, opened her eyes, and said, “Please, Spike—I want to—I need to—“

He read between the lines to her unspoken plea, and covered her mouth with his. He raised up as far as the chain would let him, and brushed his erection against her wetness. Her juices had spilled down her thighs and onto the ground, forming a puddle beneath her. He raked his hand through her sodden curls, then rubbed her juices on his staff until it glistened. He started to position himself when her hand came down to touch him, wrapping itself around his cock. He bit down on the inside of his jaw, drawing his own blood, to keep from plunging deep into her.

She touched all of him, from base to tip. Precum hung like a diamond teardrop off the slit in the end, and she fearlessly caught it on her thumb and brought it to her mouth. She licked it off her skin, liking the salty tang that exploded on her tastebuds, and she whimpered, wanting more. He shook his head in amazement, then waited until she had inserted the tip into her flowing channel.

Nestled inside her, he inched forward slowly. She drew deep gulping breaths as she felt him filling her inch by inch. He thrusted slow, feeding her scant amounts until he met resistance, and then looked into her eyes. She bit her lip and nodded, and he pushed through the barrier in a single thrust. Her scream echoed off the sides of the arena, and the scent of blood filled the building, driving all the demons wild, including his own.

He was still inside her, not moving, not breathing. When her breathing slowed, he moved, still pushing his cock deeper inside her. Moments later, he was fully seated within her, their pubic curls tangling, and he rotated his hips to press his pubic bone against her ultra-sensitized clit, eliciting gasps with every movement. He dipped his head to her breast again, and sucked her nipple into his mouth, nipping it with blunt teeth.

He began stroking her skin as he moved, consciously keeping his thrusts shallow as he allowed her time to accommodate his extreme length and girth in her tight, virginal channel. She groaned aloud at the size of him, and he reached his hand between them to rotate his thumb on her clit. Her hips moved to meet him, and he deepened his thrusts until he was able to pull out about halfway before plunging into her depths again.

Her hands grasped at him, desperate for purchase on his cool, slick skin, and he cupped his hands under her shoulders to give him more leverage. She was tight and wet; her cunny so heated he thought she would set him afire. He reached for her mouth again; plunging his tongue as deep into her throat as his cock was plunging into her pussy. She was panting, gasping, twisting in his arms, and trying to increase the pressure of his cock against her clit. She instinctively clenched her inner muscles, wanting to feel it all, and he rocked inside her, her legs splayed wide around him as he pistoned in and out of her.

He heard soft mewls of pleasure as he moved faster. She locked her legs around his calves, urging him deeper into her, tipping her pelvis to pull him inside her. He hit something firm and spongy, and she jumped in his arms, eyes wide and locked onto his.

It was then that he started talking to her. “You like that, don’t you Slayer. Feeling all of the Big Bad inside you. Feeling me so deep in you I’m ‘bout to come out your throat. Do you want to come, Slayer? Tell me you want to come.”

“I want to come, Spike. I want to come on your cock. I want to feel you come inside me. Please.”

Her last word was a long, drawn out plea for release, and he wasn’t one to disappoint a lady. He increased his tempo and rhythm until she was shrieking with every thrust, her heels raking the back of his knees as she drew closer to her peak. He thumbed her clit with every thrust, his downstrokes trapping his hand between them and lending extra pressure on the sensitive spot. He rocked her, pressing her body to his, and ground himself inside her, striking her cervix repeatedly until she begged him out loud for release.

He bit her lip with his blunt teeth, gnawing on the swollen, tender skin, then kissed her hard and deep, marking his claim on her mouth. He knew in her limited experience that she had never been kissed like that, especially by Angel, and it was confirmed in his mind when her nails raked the back of his head as they dueled in her mouth for dominance, and won. Boldly, she pushed her tongue into his mouth, raking it across his teeth and gums, inadvertently discovering the hidden slits that housed his fangs. She ran her tongue across each of the slits, and his cock grew inside her. His demon erupted, and the lengthening fang slit her tongue with its descent to the fore. Blood pooled in his mouth; Slayer blood, the sweet sour tang like fine wine on his palate. He sucked her tongue vigorously, and she let him, the sensations pulling her clit through her entire nervous system. She kissed around his fangs, her mouth delicate against his, her tongue swirling over each tip until he had to pull his head back to breath, although unneeded.

She turned her head and offered her neck, and he drew back in shock. She locked her ankles around his waist, flexing those marvelous legs to ride his cock from beneath him. He raised himself on his hands and knees to give her more room, and those wonderful Slayer muscles, inner and outer, bunching and raising her pussy up to engulf his cock repeatedly, squeezing him inside her like a fist around his shaft. Her green eyes devoured him, never leaving his golden ones.

His balls bunched up against his cock, and he knew if she continued, he wouldn’t be able to last. It had been too long since he’d been in something this tight and this hot and this wanton. She was as perfect a Slayer in bed as she was in the field—imaginative, feral, and hypnotic. He wanted to remain inside her forever, knowing of the impossibility of it all. To feel that pussy clamping down on his cock, rippling like waves from base to tip—he would give all his unlife for this.

She looked up from beneath him, her eyes trusting him, believing that they would make it out alive. He pushed her back to the ground, and she reached her hand up to cup his cheek. She drew his mouth to her own, to bite gently on his pouting bottom lip, then drew his head slowly to her neck, the collar loose enough to pull away from the thin skin. He inhaled, and caught her scent in his throat, imprinting it on his brain. Apples, vanilla, musk, sweat, salt, copper mingled on his tongue, and he licked the soft area at the bend of her neck. He slipped his teeth into her skin, and her pussy clamped around him like a fist, then began milking him mercilessly. Her blood glided down his throat, and he could no longer hold off his release as his cool, silky semen jetted deep into her spasming pussy. He let the fangs slide away, and nursed at her neck, small pulls that rocketed her repeatedly.

Her orgasms came in bursts, fireworks exploding behind her lids as she clutched at him, her nails scoring his neck and back as she pushed him to bite harder, deeper. Her body soared in an endless loop of mindless pleasure that seemed to redouble itself with every sip he claimed from her neck. His cool mouth on her throat, his cool jism in her pussy, cool arms around her, she was a living flame, igniting him several times in succession.

His mouth slipped off her neck, and he slid bonelessly over her, still joined together. He heard the roar of the crowd. The Ref walked over to them where they lay, and he could see the gleam in the demon’s black eyes.

“The judges—I’s never seen anything like it. They’re sweating, and twitiching—well, they’re calling it a draw, ‘cause, uh, that’s the best we seen here in a longum. So we’re sending ya back to home now. You practice, and we’ll see about another show, ‘kay now?”

A portal opened beneath them, and they returned to home.

Actually, they returned to where they came from—the cemetery, where she’d been doing her best to punch him senseless and he the same. Still chained together. Still naked.

Spike shook his fist at the sky, and yelled, “You bloody wankers, you could have dressed us!”

Another smaller portal opened next to them, and their clothes were tossed through. As an afterthought, a key fell through.

Buffy and Spike looked at each other, and dove for the key.