Message: 8 Date: Fri, 12 Apr 2002 13:08:45 -0700 (PDT) From: Elaine Martin Subject: FIC: The Good Girl part 1/1 TITLE: The Good Girl (1/1) AUTHOR: Elaine Martin SUMMARY: Buffy's a good little slayer, right? E-MAIL: Madaboutfriends@hotmail.com / elainemartinusa@yahoo.co.uk (aka worst e-mail addy EVER!) DISCLAIMER: Nope, not mine. RATING: NC17 PAIRING: B/O, B/F, B/F, B/F (actual, there aren't multiple B/F's, just the two. The little people made me write it 3 times....) NOTES: A reclusive weekend for poor Elaine, who feel from a table, cried hysterically, was rushed off in an ambulance, waited for 6 hours in Casualty, procured a highly expensive X-ray (Big thanks to Mammy Martin :) and learned that she had a sprained ankle... but I do have a shiny pair of crutches for my troubles PLUS a week off work! Sadly, college must still be attended :( - Again, thanks to all my 'F' Factor feedbackers. The fic has been on hiatus for a while, but I PROMISE another part this weekend. - And a big plug for SWAYSLAYER (read ALL of her fics.) - STAR (she writes top notch fics, AND she created Taz.) - Faithful Chickie (The BATH scene!!! That's some good writing!) Hello. My name is Buffy Ann Summers and I'm a good girl. Hi! I'm Buffy and I do the right thing! Nice to meet you! I'm Buffy, the chosen one, avenger of evil, good to the bad. The mirror lies, but it does a good job. Wide eyed puppy dog expression, tilt of head, pout of lips. Even I was convinced for a while. Buffy Summers, goodness personified. I smile revealing perfect white teeth. Perfect as the general public concensus has it. That's the word for Buffy. Bet you never knew that I gave Oz a hand job in the Bronze. Willow was off dancing with Xander, cute in her nerdy little needs-a-good-fuck kinda way. Every so often she would look over at us and wave, cute little smile to match her cute little outfit. We would wave back, echo her smile, and then Oz would continue to stare at her with lovestruck intensity. But I knew he wasn't getting any. It had been a great night slayage was. Five vamps in 45 minutes. Faith hit the proverbial nail on the head when she coined her post slayage mantra, only I'm too much of a good girl to admit it. So there we were, me all hot and bothered, Oz all loved up. I laughed off the idea at first. He wouldn't be into it; he'd tell Willow; someone would see us... I decided to test the waters. I stretched my legs, positioning them on the table in front of us. Have you ever seen my legs? I've got great legs... Shit! He hadn't noticed. I ran my hands along them: Damn, they were smooth. Bingo! Oz turned in his chair and I saw him blush. I smiled at him, he smiled back. We talked for a while, the usual inane chit-chat. Willow just kept on dancing, her and Xander bouncing like Duracell bunnies on E. But I had Oz's full attention. I manouvered my skirt so that my panties were visible: unintentionally of course. He gasped and looked at me, I looked back. Held the gaze. Mission a go-go. Deftly, I unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly and released the little major. I threw my cardigan over the general area and pumped. I'm lucky in that I don't suffer from wrist cramp like the rest of the female population. Good old slayer endurance for good girl Buffy. He popped after about 20 seconds, exploding all over my cardigan which now resides in a dustbin behind the Bronze. The next day I cried, told him I had no idea what got into me. He told me he understood, that he should never have let it happen. Big hugs all around... Bet you never heard that story. ***************** My next conquest was to be Faith, I just didn't know how to play it. She WAS me, just without the wrapping, and yet she had no clue. They're all clueless. We're patrolling tonight. Good girl Buffy and bad girl Faithy. I'm bringing along food to get things rolling. Hunger always comes first. She's waiting for me outside Restwood, twirling her stake in her hands. She looks damn sexy in a foxy leather number: trousers and a backless halter neck. "Ready to inflict some damage?" I watch her lips as they curl into a grin. So red and full. She swaggers ahead of me, leather encasing her tight little ass. Such naughty thoughts for such a good girl. We slay, no need for description, you've seen it before. When all the Vamps look at though they're fit for the hoover, I produce the sambos. Chicken I think. "B, you fuckin star!" Faith collapes onto the ground and tears into her sandwich, swallowing it after only three bites. She licks her lips greedily, cleaning them of crumbs. Full, wet red lips. She notices me staring at her, glances at me curiously. "Something wrong B?" Game plan decided. I crawl over to her, watching as her eyes widen. With What? fear? desire? I'm in between her legs, looking up at her. I push her onto her back violently, and straddle her torso before she can move. Her wrists are locked in my grip, as my free hand works to untie the string of her halter top. "Jesus Christ B, what the fuck are you doing!" She struggles beneath me, pretending that she doesn't want it. She squirms for a few more minutes before lying still. Our eyes are locked, the eternal power struggle. I smile down at her, licking my lips suggestively. Fuck, this is fun! The best part is the shock factor - they never see it coming, not in a million. Buffys a good girl. Buffys a hell of an actress! She looks like she's weighing up her options. Not that she has any. As a bonus, we've also discovered who's the stronger slayer. I slide my hands beneath her top, having got nowhere with the string of her halter. For a self confessed slut, she's all tied up like Fort Knox. Quelle suprise, she's braless. Her breasts are large and full, nipples erect. I run my thumb over the former, and I'm happy to report that I elicit a groan. I continue my ministrations for a while, noting how her pupils dilate, black merging with brown. It's all quiet but for Faiths murmurs of approval. Time to head south. She says nothing as I work the buttons on her pants. They contract against the leather, creating a slight creaking sound. Faith raises her legs, aiding me in their removal. My, my Faithy, you really are a little slut. I'm slightly dissapointed to find that her panties are regulation cotton: Black, but still cotton. I had somehow imagined her as a thong girl, or, better still, a member of pantiless international. Nonetheless, they're soaked. I release my grip on Faiths wrists to prise the pants from her body. They're tight as hell, and I have to struggle to drag them down her legs. At last, when they have been sufficiently disposed of, I'm allowed to survey her. Damn, that girl should wear a skirt more often. Long and sunkissed legs lead to a tight ass, and I allow my tongue to follow the path, from black painted toes upwards. Her hands clutch at the grass, and her head is tilted backwards, eyes closed. On reaching her torso, I rip at her halter top, appeased when it tears in two. She is naked, but for her panties, her form vaugely illuminated by a distant street light. I take one of her breasts in my mouth and nip gently, teasingly, on the nipple. She groans audibly, running a grass stained hand through my hair. I slide down her body, dragging my nails against her. They tear into her skin, drawing blood. I hear a sharp intake of breath, a stifled moan. I grin broadly against Faiths stomach, running my tongue from her belly button to the elastic of her underwear. Her thighs twitch as I take the elastic between my teeth. Slowly, I prise the panties from her body, crawling backwards so as to remove them completely. Her scent is everywhere. Scent of a slut. It should be bottled. I stand to survey my handiwork. Poor Faithy is all worked up, and reaches for me, frustrated by the sudden loss of bodily contact. I smile down at her, a vintage Buffy smile. She's staring at me, a mixture of desire, frustration and confusion. Poor, poor scratched up naked Faith. I straddle her once again, and she envelopes me, tries furioulsy to remove my tank top. I grab her wrists again, and shake my head. She ignores me, wrenching her arms from my grip and flipping me onto my back. I lie still as she positions herself atop me. "Fuck B..." Her breathing is harsh and ragged as her mouth finds mine. Our tongues meet, and I acknowledge that her promiscuity has paid off... she wriggles above me, easing her knee between my legs. She applies a slight pressure, and my body reponds favourably. I almost surrender, but this isn't the plan. It's a game, and Buffy's going to win. I shove her off me, and she sprawls backwards, her head narrowly avoiding contact with a headstone. She grins. She likes the game. "Jesus B, I never would have known." She spreads her legs and leers at me invitingly. "And here I was thinking you were such a good girl." "But I AM a good girl Faith." I lean down to retrieve Faiths halter top and panties. Her leather pants are slung over my shoulder. "I'm Buffy, and this is WRONG." Faiths grin falters. "B, what're you doing with my clothes?!" I look at her and shake my head sadly. Turning, so she doesn't see my grin, I stride purposefully from the graveyard. I ignore her shouts as I make my way through the darkness, the light from the halo above my head acting as a guide. The End ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ Message: 12 Date: Mon, 15 Apr 2002 12:25:39 -0700 (PDT) From: Elaine Martin Subject: FIC: The Good girl 2 part 1/1 AUTHOR: Elaine Martin TITLE: The Good Girl 2 (part 1/1) RATING: R - NC17 DISCLAIMER: Nope. Still not mine, too damn expensive. SUMMARY: Sequel to The Good Girl. Faith's looking to get even. E-MAIL: madaboutfriends@hotmail.com / elainemartinusa@yahoo.co.uk DISTRIBUTION: Ask and you shall receive. NOTES: To all who requested, here's the sequel. I generally hate writing sequels as I know I'll fuck them up, and they'll never live up to expectations. This is no exception. - Thanks, as always, to everyone who Fb'd me, esp SWAY SLAYER. HAve you ever read that girls FB? Dear God, they're fics in themselves! (Speaking of Sway Slayers fics, READ, READ, READ!! They're amazing. You'll thank me, buy me many, MANY gifts, and devote innumerable websites to the lovely Irish Elaine who introduced you to such top notch ficage....it could happen...) - And the lovely Faithful Chickie, whose fics and FB get me through the bleak hours in which I attempt to study. The latter will never happen, but at least I'm happy :) - I had a mental list of people I wanted to say 'lo to, but, I'm a rubberhead and, as such, my brain functions in a sieve like manner... Also, Friends is on in 15... Rachel find out tonight!!! *Elaine giggles in crazed fashion. Mother looks on with worry.* This is just fucking GREAT. Doesn't get much better then this... butt ass and stakeless in the middle of a graveyard at midnight, all orchestrated by Buffy Goddamn Summers. I lay there for a while after she left. Expected her to come back. Fuckin' PRAYED that she'd come back. The fact that she'd whipped my clothes came second to the extreme state of arousal I was in... I was eventually forced to realise that B had done a runner, so I got myself off quickly, before assesing the fucked-upness of the situation. B played me. Fuckin played ME! I knew that 'more innocent then thou' crap was an act, but DAMN, I fell for it. Shit, I Got off on it... Loved it when she blushed and played dumb after I assaulted her with sexual innuendos. Loved how she squirmed when I let a hand linger on her arse, or shied away from the more physical of our training sessions. I don't know what's worse; the fact that B played me for an arsehole, or the fact that it was all an illusion... What B doesn't know is that she fucked over the wrong person... ********************* "Night Mom." Big hug, peck on the cheek, acceptance of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, tester sip followed by positive feedback, "mmmm, yummy!" Mom smiles and wishes me sweet dreams. Response: Big Buffy smile, little wave and second sip of cocoa. Once upstairs, I strip myself of my sushi pyjamas and slide, naked, beneath the smooth velvet of my sheets. I rummage behind my headboard, finally retrieving the desired object. It's pretty and pink, with my name enblazoned in silver across the cover. The key is taped to the underside of my desk, and I slip it into the lock. It opens on todays date. It alone knows the true Buffy. ****************** Have you ever tried to get ANYWHERE while naked, be it from the bathroom to your bedroom with only a window to avoid, or 2 miles across a demon infested town in the dead of night? In order to get home, I had to pass the Bronze. No choice in the matter. The council apparently chose that week to work on the sewers in the area, so the youth of Sunnydale are in for a streaking, Faith style. Generally, I don't have a problem with showing my body. I have a good body...actually, I have a fuckin' GREAT body... but I'd rather not be arrested for indecent exposure. Definitely not tonight. Not when I have so much work to do. I manage to get to the Bronze unseen. The place must be letting out, coz there are gangs of kids hanging around outside. I take a deep breath, count to ten and fucking RUN. I'm sprinting like there's no tomorrow, the laces of my untied boots slapping against my bare legs. I barely register the dozens of stunned expressions, or the catcalls... I spot Willow, Xander and Cordelia, mouths agape, and I offer a wave as I dart by. ****************** Nice long entry tonight. I like to be as explicit as possible. I chew on my pen, searching for the precise words to describe Faiths body. I laugh as I briefly wonder whether she's still in the cemetary. Poor Faithy. As stupid as the rest of them. ************* B laughs, and returns to her diary. She scribbles away for a few minutes, before sliding the book behind her wardrobe and hiding the key under her desk. She stretches, and her sheet drops, revealing small, pert breasts... and fuck me if she doesn't start fondling them. Her right hand disappears beneath the sheets, and her mouth curls into a delicious O. FUCK! Never expected such a show, but I should know better by now. I watch her masturbate, and I swear to fuck that it takes all the willpower I have every possesed or am every likely to posess, not to mirror her actions. She shudders as she comes, and lies back on the pillow, spent. Her breathing remains erratic for several minutes, and she lazily leans over to switch off the lamp. I clamber out of the tree, careful not to step on any loose twigs when I jump to the ground. After the bronze, I ran the remaining three blocks back to the motel, the last stretch of my streak witnessed by a black cat, a fat trucker clad in a womans dress, and an old man staring from an upstairs window, whose eyes nearly popped out of his head as I fled by. I'm guessing the glass one actually did. Once in the motel room, I threw on some clothes, and headed to B's. Her curtains were only partially closed, so I positioned myself in a tree, adjacent to her bedroom, and watched as she confessed all to her cutesy little pink diary. Now I'm all hot and bothered again. I wonder what B was thinking about as she got herself off... Damn that little bitch. Just wait til she see's what I've got in store for her. ******************** The bell rings, and I hand my plagirised assignment to Mr Finch, offering him a patented Buffy grin (tm.) Good old Josh Stiretto of NYU was well up on the French revoulution. Willow talks incessently about Oz, as we make our way towards the exit. I smile and nod on cue, recalling his little dick, and I stifle the urge to giggle. We're joined by Xander, who gives me a once over. I smile in greeting, and pretend not to notice his sideways glances. The poor little fucker has it bad. Not a chance, baby. Fuck!... Faith is standing outside, hands on hips, dragging from a cigarette. She swaggers towards us, eyes locked with mine. I make my excuses to Willow and Xander, and walk over to meet her. "Heard you were running around town naked last night, tut tut Faithy." Faith takes a final pull from her smoke, and flicks it across the lawn. It arcs, and lands on Harmonys lap. The latter leaps from the ground, screaming obscenities. Faith offers her middle finger by way of apology, never allowing her gaze to break from mine. Her silence is unnerving, as is her stare, so I begin to walk. She follows me stride for stride. "Do you want something Faith?" I turn to face her, and she grins widely. "Just wanted to return something, B." She unzips her leather jacket, and removes a brown paper bag, the contents of which are sealed. "I called by your house this morning, but both you and Mrs S were gone already. I didn't think you'd mind if I let myself in to get this." She shoves the package under her arm, and lights another cigarette. "I didn't think I'd remember everything, so I took the liberty of making copies. Let's see, I think I have some of it down. March 16th, Willow won't shut the fuck up about Xander, who, despite being a little horn ball who's NEVER going to get any, wouldn't touch off the geek. April 15th, fucked Devon backstage at the Bronze. Knew he was going to tell everyone, so I gave him a little pre-warning. I wonder if teeth marks fade from balls? July 2nd, Gave Oz a hand job in the Bronze. He lasted all of 30 seconds, and stained my favourite top. Plus, he has the worlds smallest dick. I'm telling you, the Guinness Book of world records would KILL to get a picture of that thing..." Faith squeezes her eyes shut as though in concentration. "Nope, that's it. Left school so early that my memory retentions gone to shit. Good thing about the copies, eh?" Oh Fuck. She flings the bag at me, and I tear it open. It's there, pink as ever, bearing my name in silver. "What are you going to do?" Damn, I'm stuttering like a fool. Fuck, fuck, FUCK! "It all depends B." Faith runs a hand down the length of my arm, resting it against my waist. "On the one hand, I think that Willow and Xander and everyone else deserve to know exactly what you think of them..." "You wouldn't..." I already know the answer, but I'm clutching at straws. "That's just the thing B. You KNOW I would. See, unlike you, I let people know that I'm a slutty, selfish little bitch." I sigh. I'm well and truly fucked. "What do you want?" Faith wraps her arm further around my waist and pulls me towards her. We are standing breast to breast, her lips lightly touching my cheek. "You left me in quite a predicament last night, B." I saw nothing, aware of the stares we're receiving. "First, you got me horny as hell, and then you fucked off...WITH my clothes. I'm thinking you owe me." Her hand has moved from my waist, down the back of my skirt. She squeezes my bare arse and moans. By now, quite a crowd has gathered. I can see Willow and Xander amongst them. Someone whoops, and somebody else shouts 'Show us your tits girls!!!' I'm powerless to do anything. "Give us a kiss, B." Fuck! I weigh up my options. Kiss her, to an audience of the entire student body, or, refuse, and get ousted by her, to the entire student body. So I kiss her. I can feel her lips form into a grin as her tongue slides into my mouth. Around us, there are raucous cheers. She tightens her grasp on my arse, and pulls me closer. Her lips leave mine, and she whispers in my ear, "you're mine now, B. I win." Fuck that. Buffy Summers ALWAYS wins. The end ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________