Buffy the Shemale Vampire Slayer

by Cal Y. Pygia

 

Buffy had emerged, at last, from the cavernous planet-pussy awash in semen, only to find herself in a landscape filled with phallic plants. The strange stalks could elongate instantly, swelling and stiffening to whatever dimensions were needed to reach and penetrate their prey—and, Buffy realized, "prey" described her status perfectly. As the Slayer, she was not used to being a victim, and her newfound role did not suit her, not one bit!

She kicked savagely at the nearest prick-plants, flailed at others that sprang to within inches of her face, and clawed at still others that shoved insistently between her cunt lips or jabbed at her asshole. As soon as she kicked or knocked aside one of the fleshly tentacles, half a dozen others leaped up in its place. She was surrounded by more cocks than the star of a bukkake film. Although none had penetrated her—yet—many spurted, dribbled, or oozed thick, white semen. Buffy had swum in enough male seed for one day—or an eternity—and she had no desire to be filled and covered with more of the same.

She fought valiantly, even desperately, using every technique, strategy, trick, and tactic with which her instinct and training had equipped her. She jabbed, feinted, kicked, leaped, somersaulted, punched, elbowed, chopped, even bit—but it was no use; there were thousands of the penis-plants and, alas, only one Slayer. Against such odds, not even Buffy could hope to win.

If she couldn't fight, she told herself, all that was left was flight. Buffy was strong. She had amazing stamina. She was a hell of a runner. Maybe she could get away from the hundreds and hundreds of thrashing, undulating penises that sought to penetrate her every orifice. Scanning the forest of phallic plants, Buffy charted a course through her attackers, and rushed past the writhing stalks, hoping against hope that she'd make it through the gauntlet of pricks.

She'd gone no more than a dozen yards before she tripped over one of the penises and fell headlong to the ground. Immediately, twenty or more pricks were shoving and jabbing and pressing and poking and thrusting and ramming against her, jostling her calves, thighs, groin, stomach, breasts, neck, face, hair, back, and buttocks as they sought to penetrate her anywhere and everywhere they could. It was only a matter of moments, the Slayer realized, before a cock pierced the labia behind her own male genitals; the tight anus between her round, sleek buttocks; and her mouth. With sudden horror, two thoughts occurred to Buffy. More than one plant-phallus might seek to impale the same orifice! Moreover, once it was inside her mouth or cunt or ass, the plant-prick might elongate, becoming not inches, but feet, in length, and the damned thing might double or triple in circumference! The demon-pricks could rip her wide open!

Buffy's heart clamped down hard upon itself, pumping terror-inspired adrenaline into her bloodstream, and the Slayer tore at the cocks that pummeled her in their desperate attempts to invade her most intimate parts. Tears coursed down her face, and she sobbed, hating herself for this display of fear and weakness. Buffy was the Slayer, not a helpless crybaby! She wasn't a powerless victim to be used and abused by mindless fucking plants, not even plants that were equipped with pricks! Fighting with renewed vigor, the Slayer acquitted herself well, before she exhausted her superhuman reservoir of strength and stamina. Dozens of dead and dying penises were strewn over the landscape, oozing semen and a crimson fluid that, Buffy observed with fresh horror, resembled blood more than it did sap, just as the tissue that covered the plants' stalks looked more like flesh than they did vegetative matter. What were these fucking monstrosities, Buffy wondered—plants, animals, or some weird, perverted demon-combination? She sniveled, realizing that it didn't matter, not really—not when she was about to be fucked in every hole in her hermaphroditic body and maybe be torn apart in the process.

A penis wound itself around Buffy's left arm. Another coiled itself around her right arm. A third encircled her left calf. A fourth looped itself around her right calf. Tightening, the coiled pricks tugged Buffy's limbs part, spread-eagling her upon the ground.

A choked sob escaped the Slayer's lips as more tears, hot and wet, trickled down her cheeks. She, who had always been the champion for the weak and helpless, now lay upon her back, her arms parted and her legs spread, naked, powerless, and exhausted, bound by thick coils of cock, waiting to be ravished in every orifice of her body—it was unthinkable! It was unfair! It wasn't right! Buffy closed her eyes tightly, gritting her teeth. She would not cry out. No matter how much rage or humiliation or fear she felt, she would not scream or sob. She would bear the outrage of the assault. She would endure the fury, the shame, and the terror and, if she were fortunate enough to survive, she would repay these insults to her dignity and her virtue even if she died in the process. Hang on, Buffy, she told herself.

Her eyes snapped open. In horror, she stared at the suction cups that had fastened themselves upon her nipples. Like those on an octopus' tentacles, the disc-shaped cups gripped the tips of her boobs with fierce insistence, and Buffy felt them nuzzle and suck. Despite her revulsion, the Slayer's nipples responded, stiffening and swelling inside the miniature domes that milked them.

No sooner had Buffy understood what was happening to her breasts than she felt something tubular, soft as silk but wet and slick as well, like a cunt, slide over her ever-erect penis. The plants' tentacles, she thought, were not all phallic; some were tentacles with suction cups that could attach themselves to their victim's nipples; others were hollow cylinders that were lined with soft, smooth, slippery tissue that resembled the inside of Buffy's own pink-and-red pussy. The plants, it seemed, were every bit as hermaphroditic, in their own way, as Buffy herself had become, thanks to the bite of the damned Feral demon that had transformed her (hopefully, temporarily) into a shemale vampire slayer. Buffy snorted derisively. Well, in a demon-dimension such as this, such revelations shouldn't surprise her, she thought.

As the tubular, vagina-like tentacle began to slide up and down upon Buffy's erect organ, her penis and testicles were shoved upward by the entrance of a thick, hard cock into Buffy's own pussy. She felt the petals of her labia part to admit the trespassing organ; she felt the swollen member slide deep into her cunt, into the liquid chamber of her womb. The serpentine appendage was huge! It stuffed her full, its length and girth occupying every square inch of her pussy. Never had she been so crammed full of cock. Neither Angel, Riley, Parker, nor Spike had ever occupied her so completely—and they all had pricks of a respectable, even (in the vampires' cases) extraordinary, dimensions.

Now that the plant-penis had entered her, it began to fuck Buffy in earnest, ramming her fiercely with a rapidity of motion and an intensity of force that, in her own dimension, could have been duplicated only by a machine. Beneath its relentless, piston-like pounding, not only did the Slayer's whole frame recoil, but her teeth rattled as well. It seemed to Buffy that she was being pummeled rather than fucked. She struggled feebly to escape, but she was too weak, too spent, and too exhausted. All that resulted from her efforts was a tightening of the penile bands that secured her arms and legs.

As the tubular tentacle stroked Buffy's cock with its liquid-smooth, wet, flesh-lined interior and the huge cock fucked her own pussy with machine-gun rapidity and battering-ram ferocity, a second demon-prick forced its way between Buffy's lips, filling her mouth. She gagged on the thick, hard column of flesh that pumped back and forth between her lips, over her tongue, and between the inner walls of her cheeks, lengthening to reach her esophagus and shoving itself down her throat more deeply and forcefully with every plunging thrust.

The tears came again, flowing copiously sown the Slayer's wet and shining face. She couldn't help herself. The shame she felt was staggering, overwhelming. Even if she did manage to survive this terrible multiple rape, this gang bang, she would never be the same. She would never be herself again, not after this. She'd be—what? A slut? A whore?

No! Buffy told herself. She would be none of those things! She wasn't giving herself to these demon-plant-rapists; they were taking her against her will. They had to trip her and manacle her before they could have their way with her. This wasn't making love; this was being ravished. Still, despite her knowledge of the facts, despite her unwillingness to submit to the brutal assault she was undergoing, Buffy couldn't help feeling like a slut and a whore and weren't one's perceptions, one's feelings, often the same as one's reality?

Another plant-prick invaded Buffy; this one wound its way, corkscrew-like, up her ass, winding round and round inside her anus, twisting its way through her sphincter, and swirling its way into her rectum. More and more of the elongating cock twirled through her bowels. Despite her earlier vow not to do so, Buffy screamed. She was frightened—far more terrified than she'd ever been in the nearly ten years that she'd been fighting vampires, demons, and other creepy crawlies. The prick inside her bottom seemed to fill her asshole to the bursting point, and still the damned thing continued to expand, to thicken, to swell, as its already-long shaft underwent still further elongation. If it continued to stiffen and swell inside her, it might rip and tear the tender tissues of her rectum wide open, and she'd bleed to death.

 

Buffy Summers was certainly no virgin. She'd lost her virginity to Angel, a vampire, thereby releasing him from the Gypsy curse that, as punishment for his having brutally killed the favorite daughter of their tribe, had restored his soul, that his conscience might torment him as he recalled the thousands of vicious, vile deeds he'd performed over the two centuries during which he'd been a vamp. The handsome vampire was well equipped, sexually, and his thick, hard cock had initiated her into sexual intercourse only too well, leaving the tender tissues of her pussy sore, bruised, and bloody. William the Bloody had been nicknamed "Spike" because of his penchant for torturing his victims with railroad spikes. However, Buffy knew, his nickname could have been inspired by the long, delicious prick that dangled between his sinewy thighs. Like Angel and, presumably, all other vampires, Spike ejaculated ice-cold semen. She remembered the first time that Angel's icy seed had gushed into the warm, wet chamber of her cunt. She'd jumped beneath her lover, her long nails embedding themselves in his brawny back and making him jump as well. He'd come profusely, filling her vagina again and again; it had been as if someone had spurted a water pistol full of ice water into her pussy. She shivered at the memory of the frigid blasts. Spike, too, had filled Buffy's cunt to overflowing many times with his freezing semen. There was nothing better to cool a girl off on a hot, hellish day on the Sunnydale Hellmouth than to have Angel or Spike spew their arctic sperm deep into her pussy.

Buffy had had human lovers, too. Parker had used her as a sex toy before abandoning her. He'd been an accomplished, if not a loving, lover, especially for a young man. Handsome as hell, he'd had a way with women, Buffy included, and had charmed his way into the beds—and pussies—of hundreds of girls by the time Buffy encountered the rogue in college. The fucker was so charming, in fact, that he'd almost succeeded in nailing Willow, even after the witch had given up on boys and taken a girl as her lover. Any stud who could seduce a lesbian had to be hot, and, there was no doubt about it, Parker had been hot. Too bad he'd turned out to be such a fucking asshole. He'd earned a punch in his potty mouth from Buffy's next flame, Riley Finn, the commando, when Parker had asked him the riddle, "What's the difference between a toilet and a freshman girl?," answering, "The toilet doesn't follow you around after you use it. "

Riley had been a handsome, virile stud, too. Tall, muscular, with wholesome good looks, he'd been the good boy that Buffy had supposed she'd wanted after her disastrous affair with Angel and Parker. She'd had enough bad boys, she'd persuaded herself. Like all the men in her past love life, Riley was well equipped, with a long, thick, hard cock that he knew how to use. Still, there seemed to be something lacking in their love life, and, eventually, Riley had left her to marry a female commando. Spike made Buffy see that she needed a "little monster" in her man. Despite her tragic encounters with Angel and Parker, Buffy entered a needy relationship with Spike. Although sexually fulfilling, the affair had also lacked emotional depth; ultimately, it, too, had failed to satisfy Buffy.

On a secret level, Buffy had longed for Giles to fuck her. The Sunnydale librarian, her Watcher, had been more than her mentor and her trainer. He'd been like a father to her—he'd been more than a father to her. Her own dad had abandoned her mom and her when Buffy was still a student at Hemery High in L. A. , before their parents had divorced and she and her mother had moved to Sunnydale. Once a year, her father had taken her to the Ice Capades, when their outing didn't interfere with his job. Otherwise, she seldom heard from him. Like other children whose fathers had abandoned them, Buffy ached for an adult male's company, affection, encouragement, and love. In the person of her Watcher, the handsome, dapper, but rather stodgy English librarian, Buffy had found a father substitute who had had a genuine, fatherly love for her. Faith, the rogue Slayer who was called after Kendra's death, had referred to Giles as "young and cute," a description which, at the time, had made Buffy want to barf. However, Faith's words had left an indelible impression upon Buffy's subconscious mind, inspiring her to regard the fatherly librarian in a different, forbidden light. Buffy had never realized that she'd thought of Giles in such a fashion until Anya, the vengeance demon whom Xander had jilted at the altar, had required that Giles fuck Buffy in the ass as a condition for Buffy's gaining entry to the demon dimension to which Anya had sent the witch.

Anya's spell had also removed their deep-set, natural inhibitions toward one another, and Buffy and Giles had not been able to keep their eyes off one another's nude bodies. Nude, Giles proved to be more than merely cute; he was sexy. He had broad shoulders, a deep chest, a firm, flat abdomen, and sturdy thighs. His buttocks were small and tight. His cock, even flaccid, was long—nine inches, Buffy reckoned—thick, and circumcised. He had big balls, too, which, like his large member, suggested both virility and potency. After disrobing in Giles' apartment, they had drawn a rough, inverted pentagram on the floor, turned out the lights, and lit a candle, placing it in the center of the upside-down, five-pointed star that represented the devil. Then, Giles and Buffy had seated themselves across from one another and chanted the prescribed ritual that Anya had given Buffy. As soon as they'd finished the chant, a change come over Buffy and Giles. Moments before, they'd felt ashamed and humiliated, and they'd averted their eyes from one another's nudity, Buffy feeling it as wrong to be naked in front of the man she regarded as her father as Giles did to be unclothed before the young woman he considered his daughter. Afterward, however, neither of them had suffered from any such compunctions, and they'd stared boldly across the encircled pentagram that separated them, Buffy admiring the swollen, stiff-standing cock that rose against the former librarian's pubes and belly, and Giles marveling at Buffy's small, pert breasts, concave tummy, smooth, creamy thighs, and the light blonde wisps of hair that decorated her lower abdomen, above her own erect penis and tightly contracted scrotum. He'd seemed both fascinated and overjoyed at Buffy's hermaphroditic state.

Giles had sidled up to the Slayer, ready to insert his manhood into her pussy when Buffy had corrected him: "Not my pussy," Buffy corrected him. "My ass. You have to butt fuck me, Anya said. " Her Watcher hadn't batted an eye. His only response was to grin as Buffy, under the vengeance demon's spell had wiggled her butt invitingly, demanding that he stick his dick up her ass and fuck her. Immediately, Giles had done so, directing his erect cock between the silken globes of the young woman's firm, luscious ass. Inch by slow inch, he'd fed his swollen organ through the tight circle of her anus, feeling the sphincter spread wide before his advancing member, admitting more and more of its thick, hard length. He'd watched his huge prick vanish into the wide-stretched anus between Buffy's impaled buttocks until the shaft was completely buried within her bottom, his balls pressing firmly against the satin-soft slopes that arched toward him. Again and again, he'd repeated this action, withdrawing until only the purple glans of his reddened prick remained within the Slayer's asshole and then driving forward with brutal force, plunging his cock into the warm, smooth tunnel of Buffy's rectum, her gorgeous, full, round buttocks bouncing before each renewed assault.

Giles had spent himself inside the Slayer, spurting his thick, warm semen deep into her ass. Afterward, his penis soft and limp, he'd collapsed atop her—or would have, had she not teleported to this demon dimension where, now, she lay, pinned to the ground by a crop of penis-plants, three of which had poked their phallic stalks into her mouth, her cunt, and her ass and were fucking her with wild abandon.

Buffy was in a hell of a predicament. It seemed that the plant penises were able to elongate and thicken to whatever dimensions they chose—if plants could choose—and they might lengthen and swell to a point that Buffy's mouth and throat, cunt, and asshole could no longer accommodate them, in which case—well, she didn't want to imagine the consequences that might follow from such a state of affairs. The monstrous plant stalks already filled her to the bursting point, stretching her asshole, vagina, and lips far more than she would have thought possible. Maybe, she thought hopefully, the tendrils had a built-in mechanism of some sort that informed them as to how much space remained available for them to fill and, once they'd filled the available space, the phallic stems would stop growing. It seemed to Buffy that the phallic stalks had stopped lengthening and expanding inside her orifices, now that they'd occupied every square inch of them.

In surfing the 'net, Buffy had seen Anime images of nubile nudes ensnared by tentacles resembling penises. These poor girls, although mere cartoons, suffered a fate similar to that which Buffy herself was now subject. Usually, the victims were violated in every orifice, as Buffy herself was being violated, before they escaped or were rescued—if they escaped or were rescued. Some were torn limb from limb afterward, in an orgy of blood and semen that decorated the panels of the sick online comics like streamers and ribbons of red and white confetti. Well, damn it! Buffy had no intention of being dismembered or of having her bloody entrails spewed over this hostile, alien landscape. She was going to get free, rescue Willow, and get the hell out of this damned demon dimension. Then, most likely, she was going to kill the vengeance demon bitch, Anyanka, who was responsible for Willow's abduction and Buffy's present dilemma.

Gritting her teeth, Buffy concentrated every bit of her superhuman Slayer's strength in her arms, flexing the sinews in her forearms, contracting her biceps, and stiffening her triceps. The penis stalks that had wound themselves around her arms, like those that secured her legs, tightened. The silent struggle between the Slayer and the phallic plants continued. Buffy's entire body shuddered. Sweat poured from her every pore. She gasped, gritting her teeth harder, her brow furrowing with the strain of her effort to break the grip of the phalli wound about her arms. She exhaled and took another deep breath, holding it as she continued to struggle, twisting her upper body violently back and forth and she bent her knees, pressing her bare feet hard against the ground. Tears rolled from the corners of her eyes. "Uhhhhhhhhhh!" Her breath shot from her lungs as she sobbed, frustrated. It was no good. The fucking phalli were too strong. She couldn't break away from them.

Now that her memories of Angel, Spike, Parker, Riley, and Giles had abandoned her to her present fate and she'd failed to free herself, Buffy was, once again, conscious of the assault of the three pricks upon her person. Once more, she felt used and abused, as unclean as if she were a slut or a whore rather than a victim. She felt dirty and vile, wanton and impure. She was ashamed. She was mortified. Thick, warm, and wet, tears, as large as the fiery yellow-orange topaz that burned in the gold setting of her high school graduation ring, dribbled over her cheeks. She closed her blurry eyes, wishing she were dead.

The prick that filled Buffy's mouth lurched between the wide ring of her smooth, pink lips, poking back and forth across her saliva-slick tongue and between the fleshly walls of her inner cheeks. It shoved roughly past her uvula, into the top of her throat, past her tonsils, and along her esophagus. Breathing through her nose, Buffy managed to repress the gag reflex that made her feel as though she must retch. The phallus oozed semen both from its swollen, purple glans and from the pore-like openings along its fleshly shaft, and the Slayer could taste the warm, salty nectar of its seed as the stalk shoved continuously into her mouth and throat. Meanwhile, the second phallus fucked her cunt, bouncing her cock and balls as it thrust deep into the warm-wet-softness of her rich pink vagina. The swollen tendril so completely filled her cunt that Buffy felt that she might be in the late stages of a pregnancy. However, her womb was filled not with a developing fetus but with a plump, stiff cock, the semen-ooze of which mingled with her own juices. The third prick crammed Buffy's asshole. Her anus had been stretched to many times its normal size. She feared that, even when the monster-cock was not seated up her bottom, her asshole would remain a reamed-out tunnel rather than a small, tight, puckered opening. Should she ever manage to return to her own world, any doctor who examined her would understand that she'd had anal intercourse, because her stretched-wide anus would be a sure giveaway. As if to reinforce her thoughts, the phallus that occupied her rectum pounded her with further violence, hammering her hard as the thick, hard cock slammed deeper and deeper within her impaled buttocks.

Again, Buffy struggled, writhing and thrashing upon the ground, but it was no use. She was held fast within the grip of the winding phalli, a captive to the lusts of this demon dimension as, at the moment, they were expressed, perversely and outrageously, through these vegetative pricks that violated her not only sexually but emotionally and spiritually as well. The demon inhabitants of this world seemed intent upon ravishing her every way possible, that they might break her spirit and her will.

Buffy ceased struggling. She lay still, surrendering herself to the threefold assault, accepting the cock in her mouth, the prick in her cunt, and the penis in her ass. Perhaps, as with the penises of vampires and men, once the damned plant-phalli reached orgasm, spilling their foul seed, they would wilt and droop, withering like the fruit of a blighted vine. Maybe then, when the demon-pricks were satiated, the cocks that pinned her to the ground would release her so that, dripping blood and semen, she could hobble away in the night to nurse her wounds, to nurture her rage, and to plot her revenge.

The Slayer opened her tear-filled eyes. They widened. Her heart skipped a beat, and her muscles tensed. Standing before her was a transparent likeness of the witch she'd come to rescue. Like Buffy, Willow was also naked. It was disconcerting to view the dark sky through the witch's face, shoulders, breasts, and tummy and to see the dark shadows of the penis-plants through her groin, hips, and legs—disconcerting, but wonderful!

Willow! Buffy thought. She would have given voice to her friend's name, and she would have smiled with delight, had it not been for the thick, hard cock that stuffed her mouth and filled her throat.

"Buffy!" the see-through Willow cried, distressed at the plight of her friend, the mighty Slayer whom the witch had never thought she'd see in such a predicament as this. Then, Willow's wide eyes caught sight of the erect cock being sucked by the tubular plant stalk and of the clump of testicles within the Slayer's tight, bunched scrotum. "Buffy!" she exclaimed a second time, her tone one of amazement and shock. "You're a boy!" Her brow furrowed in confusion, the witch looked again at her helpless friend. "No," she corrected herself, "not a boy, but a boy-girl, a girl-boy. " She shook her head.

Help me! Buffy screamed silently.

Willow shook her head at the astounding contradiction represented by the Slayer's having pert tits, a cock-stuffed cunt, and a stiff cock standing upright above a pair of balls. "A shemale vampire slayer?" she said dubiously. Then, she smiled, thinking of how much fun she and Buffy could have together. First, though, she must set her friend free, Willow realized. She smiled at the thought that she would be rescuing the rescuer.

Sensing the witch's presence, several of the penis-plants' phallic stalks reared, waving back and forth. Suddenly, one shot forward, darting between Willow's translucent legs. It wriggled, shoving itself toward the witch's labia, but it was unable to gain access to her cunt. Willow, it seemed, was not only see-through, nut she was also invulnerable to the grotesque phallus. Instead of penetrating her, it slid right through her, as if she were a ghost. Another plant-penis jabbed at Willow's buttocks, with no more success than the other cock. Willow grinned.

Help me! Buffy shrieked in her mind.

Lifting her arms so that they extended from her shoulders, the witch chanted. Thunder boomed, and the darkness trembled with flashes of lightning.

Come on, Willow, Buffy urged silently.

A hard rain began to fall.

 

Darkness had fallen upon the demon world. In the intermittent flashes of lightning that resulted from Willow's weather spell, the landscape was illuminated, and the horrible phallus-plants were revealed, writhing and thrashing. The cock-stalks within Buffy's mouth, cunt, and ass, and the hollow tubular stems attached to her nipples and cock also squirmed and wriggled. She shuddered at the feel of the thick, serpentine penis-stalks as they twisted inside her, lunging and plunging. She'd learned to repress her gag reflex and to relax the muscles in her throat, so that the erection that filled her esophagus could thrust back and forth without choking her. Still, she longed to have the foul prick-thing out of her mouth, just as she yearned to have the plant-penises removed from her vagina and her buttocks. Her asshole had been stretched beyond belief by the huge cock that stuffed her ass. Discomfort had become pain, and, still, the enormous prick pumped back and forth inside her wide-stretched asshole, driving deep into her bowels. The penis that fucked her cunt continued its wild, machine-gun-like ravishment of her sex, and her own cock and balls bounced, bobbed, and jiggled from the frantic pounding her impaled body was suffering.

The abrupt appearance of Willow—transparent and invulnerable Willow—was a welcome surprise, just as the witch's spell was encouraging. Although the Slayer had no idea why her friend had cast a weather spell, Buffy was certain that the enchantment had something to do with rescuing her from the crop of penis-plants that pinned her to the ground and ravished her mouth, cunt, and ass—or, at least, she sure as hell hoped that the spell had something to do with rescuing her.

The rain fell, thick and fast, reminding Buffy of the semen showers she'd experienced inside the demon dimension's cavernous planet pussy. This time, however, it was water, not warm, sticky seed, that poured from above, slanting like silver needles in the flare of the lightning that accompanied the thunder. Although the rain didn't hurt Buffy or Willow, it was like a strong acid to the penis-plants. As it fell upon them, sharp hisses filled the air. Smoke rose from the scorched and pitted flesh of the phalli, and the air filled with the awful odor—the stench, really—of burning flesh. The penis in Buffy's mouth withdrew, snatching itself free of her lips. It was covered with blisters. Smoke streamed from it. The rain had cooked the fleshly stalk as well as if it had been a sausage dropped in a vat of acid. The cock in her cunt suffered the same fate, erupting in running sores and roasting like a snake upon burning coals. Smoke poured from it as it thrashed, yanking itself from the Slayer's vagina and rolling itself desperately upon the ground in a vain attempt to soothe its burnt and burning skin. Finally, the plant-prick that had buried itself between the smooth cheeks of Buffy's gorgeous ass likewise began to smoke and splutter as blood and semen burst from its splitting shaft. It flung itself from the Slayer, vacating her rectum and her anus. The penises looped around her arms, pinning her to the ground, were also scorched by the acid rain. They unwound themselves, spinning free of their captive and wriggled across the landscape, seeking to escape the deadly rain. The hollow, tubular stems that had fixed themselves to the Slayer's nipples and cock twisted and reared, but the falling rain cut them into pieces as it burned through them at uneven intervals. Freed, Buffy looked to her friend for direction as to what they should do next.

The transparent Willow clasped Buffy's hand in hers, a terrific rushing sound filled the Slayer's ears, and the bizarre landscape of phallic plants disappeared, along with the fierce storm and the darkness of the night.

 

The rushing sound ceased, and Buffy found herself standing alone before a wide portico off of which opened tall, arched doorways. The portico's roof was supported with columns resembling gigantic, erect penises.

"Willow?" Buffy called.

There was no answer.

She called her friend's name several more times, more loudly, but with the same result. The transparent Willow was nowhere to be seen or heard.

The air was freezing. Buffy's nipples were stiff and swollen, like her cock, but her scrotum had shrunken drawing tight against her body to warm her balls. Gooseflesh rose upon her arms, legs, and ass. The night had been dark on the plain, but there was light here; torches burned in sconces set along the front of the massive portico, enabling Buffy to see the structure before which she stood and the slopes of the ice mountains that fell sharply away on every side of the building. It was obvious that Willow had transported her to the great hall that Buffy had viewed from afar upon her arrival in this demon dimension. Most likely, she supposed, this was the demons' palace, where Willow was being held captive. Prior to entering the building, Buffy examined the portico. She'd learned that it seldom paid to rush into new situations. Sometimes, surveying one's surroundings provided important clues—sometimes not.

There were statues of naked men in alcoves between the doorways. Buffy looked at the niche that was closest to her. Its sculpture showed a handsome young man, hardly out of his teens, kneeling before an obese, older man. The youth was sucking the fat man's bloated cock. Tears streamed down his face. The title, etched in the pedestal, read, Initiation. The piece made Buffy feel uneasy. A deeper, implicit theme seemed to communicate itself subliminally through the scandalous work of art.

She looked at the statue that occupied the next alcove. It showed a man on his elbows and knees. Behind him, another man, with an immense, erect cock jutting from the tight curls of his marble pubic hair, knelt, ready to penetrate his eagerly waiting partner. Both men were smiling, but there was something more than lust in their expressions; there was a demonic undertone that implied that, in participating in this act, they were somehow party to something much more decadent. In the pedestal, the title of the work was carved in deep letters: Humiliation. Involuntarily, Buffy shuddered.

A third statue showed a heterosexual couple having sex. A slender youth had inserted his erect penis into the anus of a young woman. They were engaged in anal intercourse. Both were beautiful. The woman lay supine. Her back was arched and her hips raised so that, bent in this manner, her legs stretched past her shoulders and she was, quite literally, head over heels. Her position provided easy access to her lovely, shaved cunt, but the boy had chosen to engage her anally rather than vaginally. There seemed something familiar about both figures. Buffy stepped to her right, altering her perspective. Her eyes widened, her lower jaw dropping, as she discovered that the young man in the sculpture was not a man at all, but, rather, a hermaphrodite, as much a she as a he, with firm, high, round breasts, the cleft of a pair of dainty labia behind his—or her—balls, and a fine, round, feminine ass atop smooth, shapely legs. Even more shocking, this hermaphroditic figure had Buffy's face!

No, she realized, it didn't just have her face; the sculpted figure was Buffy! The fine hair; the wide hazel eyes with their thick, long lashes; the slender, rather pointed nose; the thin, bow lips; the perfect, small breasts; the downy pubes; the tender petals of the thick labia; the lean, lithe legs; the tight, compact ass—every inch of the splendid figure was a perfect depiction of the Slayer. Buffy gulped, focusing her attention more closely on the other figure. Willow! The pixie hairstyle; the thick-lashed, Anime-wide eyes; the tiny, button nose; the high, wide cheekbones; the thin-lipped pout; the tiny tits; the firm, tight buttocks; the long, sinuous legs—all were Willow, as exactly as the features of the hermaphrodite statue were those of Buffy herself!

This was too spooky, Buffy thought. No one in this demon dimension—except Willow—had ever seen Buffy. How could the demon-artist have captured her likeness so well? It was beyond freaky. It was unnerving. What's more, the sculpture, like the others, seemed to suggest something else, something atrocious, on a level deeper than the conscious. Buffy examined the title, which, like those of the other sculptures, was carved into the statue's pedestal: Travesty.

Travesty of what, Buffy wondered as she passed the statue and entered the arched doorway. The portal led from the porch into a wide, tall, seemingly endless corridor of stone floor, stone walls, and stone ceiling. At twenty-foot intervals, ensconced torches illuminated the hallway. There were neither corridors nor chambers to the left or the right, just this interminable passageway that led deeper and deeper into the interior of this huge palace or fortress or whatever-it-was atop the icy mountains. If she wanted to find Willow, Buffy told herself, she must follow the corridor and hope that, sooner or later, she would discover the witch, who, hopefully, would be safe and sound.

"Willow?" she called, not expecting to receive an answer.

She received none, but her own voice echoed through the vast, cold, stone corridor: "Willow?" "Willow?" "Willow?"

Buffy crept forward, her senses alert for any sign of the presence of demons, vampires, trolls, or other monsters. Her eyes scanned the hallway ahead of her. Her ears strained to pick up the least stray sound. Her nostrils quivered as she sought any scent that might suggest that someone or something was near at hand or to suggest that Willow could be near. Nothing—just the arctic cold and the hardness of the stone under her feet. She shrugged, continuing to steal down the stone hallway. Suddenly, the floor gave way beneath her bare feet, and she found herself falling through empty space. If another stone floor awaited her below, she'd likely be killed. At the very least, she'd be crippled. With a broken limb, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to continue her mission, to say nothing of escaping, especially if the limb were a leg.

Instead of a floor, Buffy fell onto—or, rather, into—a pool of stagnant water. Upon breaking the surface of the calm, if torpid, water, she righted herself, so that her feet were pointed downward. As soon as her soles touched the pool's bottom—it, too, seemed to be made of stone—she kicked off, rocketing toward the surface.

Buffy hadn't opened her eyes, as she would have if the water had been fresh and clear rather than murky and stale. She was afraid of what she might see. Maybe the water wasn't water, after all; maybe it was blood. Maybe the pool was full of dead things, too, including human or demon cadavers. On the other hand, maybe her imagination was just working overtime. No matter—she didn't want to know what, if anything, shared this pool with her.

Her head broke the water, and Buffy spluttered, gasping for breath.

A huge, clawed hand grabbed her around the neck and hoisted her from the water. Dangling from the gripping hand, Buffy could again see her surroundings, including the giant, shaggy beast-man-thing that held her. The grotesque figure was over ten feet tall, with broad, powerful shoulders; an expansive, shaggy chest; a barrel-size, furry belly; and thick, strong arms and legs. It's face—if the repulsive features could be said to constitute a face—was as ugly as it was disgusting. It's slits-for-eyes peered from below an outcropping of skull. A wide nose rose above thick slabs of leathery, wrinkled lips behind which showed long, thick, curved fangs. Whether it was male or female, Buffy couldn't say; its lower body was covered in thick fur, like an animal's; she could see neither cock nor balls, but that didn't necessarily mean that it didn't have such organs. They could easily be hidden under the shaggy pelt or, perhaps, they occupied a cavity within the huge creature's groin and slipped out, thick and swollen and ready for use, once the hideous creature became sexually aroused.

It might be big, it might be bad, and it might be mean, Buffy reasoned, but she was still the Slayer and, although tiny compared to the bulky monster, Buffy had superhuman strength and stamina, and she was a more-than-able ass kicker, both by nature and by training. She drew back her fist and slammed it as hard as she could into the creature's ugly, misshapen face. That should get a reaction, she thought.

The gigantic creature didn't flinch. It didn't wince. It didn't cringe. Instead, it simply flopped the naked Slayer over one shoulder and sauntered down the hallway that led to and from the dank, stagnant pool. Buffy kicked and pummeled the creature, but it took no more notice of these blows than it had the first; even the Slayer's mighty wallops were as nothing to it.

Not being able to hurt the monster enraged Buffy. She wasn't used to feeling helpless, and she didn't like it, not one bit. Against demons, vampires, and other forces of darkness, she was a predator. In Sunnydale, her mere presence was enough to inspire terror in the hearts of such creatures. Here, in the grip of this shaggy demon-thing (or whatever the hell it was), she was powerless—not the predator, but the prey!

The creature that carried Buffy was unaware, of course, of her thoughts. Even if it knew what she was thinking, it wouldn't have cared. It was intent upon fulfilling its mission, which was to bring the Slayer to its brethren and their ruler, the devil known as Baphomet. Within minutes, it had accomplished its purpose. Roughly, it tossed its burden onto the stone floor of the devil's throne room, and Buffy, cursing, sat up, the granite both hard and cold upon her bare ass and legs.

"Buffy!" Willow cried.

"Willow!" Buffy answered.

The Slayer's redheaded friend was naked. She sat upon Baphomet. Her upper legs were spread wide, straddling his thighs. His big, powerful hands reached around her, from behind, to clutch the witch's tiny tits. His nails, thick and curved, dug into Willow's flesh. Beads of blood stood upon her breasts and belly. The devil's cock, which was as big around as the thick end of a baseball bat, was thrust up Willow's cunt, so only a few inches showed above his testicles-filled scrotum.

Baphomet was as hideous as any demon Buffy had ever seen, whether in Sunnydale or in this hellish demon dimension. He sat upon a stone throne, the legs of which were human skulls, treated in some way, probably by enchantment, so that they were sturdy enough to support the tremendous weight of the throne and its gargantuan occupant. Behind the throne, the stone wall was carved with figures—men with men, women with women, and both sexes with demons—that depicted all manner of sexual perversity. On either side of the throne stood a statue of a beautiful hermaphrodite. Buffy didn't study these sculptures too closely; for all she knew, they, like the one on the portico, were portraits of her. Between the great, curved horns that rose from the top sides of Baphomet's head, a twisted, phallic, unicorn-like horn extended from his skull. Spread behind him were huge, leathery, bat-like wings. His head was that of a goat, and female breasts—quite beautiful ones—rose from the shaggy, matted fur that otherwise covered his chest. Like his chest, his belly was bald, but, from the waist down, his legs were furry and ended in cloven hooves, like a satyr's. His hands were like those of a man, except for the long, curved claws. From his shaggy groin, his penis rose, impaling the seated witch.

"Let her go!" Buffy demanded.

Baphomet laughed. The sound was harsh and grating; it made Buffy think of the howling of a wolf rather than an expression of merriment. "You are in no position to make demands upon me, Slayer," he reminded her. He paused before adding, "But I may release her, as you request—provided you prove yourself worthy. "

Buffy put her hands on her hips. "And how, exactly, do I do that?"

The devil smiled. It was not a pretty sight, Buffy decided. "You have sex with my guards. If you survive that, you have sex with me. If you survive that, you and the witch are free to go. "

Buffy pretended to consider the devil king's offer. "How about I just rip your head off, instead?" she countered.

Willow frowned, shaking her head as if to say, Not a good idea, Buff.

The ghastly fangs showed as Baphomet smiled. "Please do," he invited her.

Buffy launched herself toward the throne upon which the devil sat, his thick cock up Willow's pussy. The devil lifted a hand from Willow's breast and gestured dismissively in the Slayer's direction. A tremendous force swept her aside as if she were a straw figure come to life, and she was flung across the throne room, into one of the stone walls. She grimaced as pain shot through her entire body and crumpled to the floor, where she sagged upon her hands and knees, bruised and lacerated, the breath knocked out of her. As she struggled to regain her wind, Buffy was amazed to see what could only be demons shuffle, scuttle, creep, crawl, slither, and glide about the room. The sight of the deformed, misshapen, distorted, grotesque, and perverse creatures made Buffy gag. A shudder ran through her, more through her soul, it seemed, than through her body.

The backside of one of these monstrous creatures faced Buffy, and she was shocked to see that there was a transparent hemisphere where its buttocks should have been. Instead of ankles and feet, its thin calves ended in branching twigs, as if the lower limbs had become wood rather than flesh. She saw something move inside the thing's hemispherical ass, and Buffy frowned, focusing on the movement. She was aghast to see a human face inside the demon's body, peering out at the world through the creature's glass posterior.

A scuttling sound caught the Slayer's attention. Something with an armored body and a bird's skull for a head rode upon the back of a headless, plucked goose. Wearing a long, green cloak and hood, the monstrous minstrel strummed a harp that made horrible sounds like the screams of the tormented damned.

A strange woman-tree hybrid crept across the chamber, holding a baby that, swaddled in strips of soiled linen, offered the appearance of an infant mummy. The face of the woman inside the hollow tree that formed, as it were, a strange exoskeleton, was gray and withered, as if it belonged to a corpse. The infant was cradled in the tree-woman's arms, which, lacking hands, ended in bent twigs rather than fingers. The top of the tree continued beyond the head of the corpse-like woman for whom the tree was a second skin or a wooden armor, but it was broken, barren of leaves, and dead. As Buffy watched the grotesque figure shuffle across the chamber, words recited themselves in her brain:

 

But Bacchus

Demanded punishment for so much evil.

Mourning his singer's loss, he bound those women,

All those who saw the murder, in a forest,

Twisted their feet to roots, and thrust them deep

Into unyielding earth. As a bird struggles

Caught in a fowler's snare, and flaps and flutters

And draws its bonds the tighter by its struggling,

Even so the Thracian women, gripped by the soil,

Fastened in desperate terror, writhed and struggled,

But the roots held. They looked to see their fingers,

Their toes, their nails, and saw the bark come creeping

Up the smooth legs; they tried to smite their thighs

With grieving hands, and struck on oak; their breasts

Were oak, and oak their shoulders, and their arms

You well might call long branches and be truthful.

 

Buffy shuddered again.

A beetle-man with spindly human arms and legs grasped a naked woman in its clawed hands and dragged her roughly across the hard, stone floor. A toad was fastened to each of her breasts, and a serpent wriggled inside her labia. A long penis hung from the beetle-man's armored groin. From it, he discharged a stream of foul-smelling, rust-colored urine, spewing the woman's face as he continued to drag her. She kicked and screamed, twisting and squirming in his grip, but he held fast to her. Another stream of urine showered her breasts, belly, cunt, and legs. The toads squirmed, but remained in place, secured to her bosom.

The demons found exits in the walls or floor, vanishing between chinks of stone or through hidden grates or into holes they'd dug for themselves over the long centuries of their residence—or imprisonment—in Baphomet's palace. Only one remained.

"My former consort, Baubo," Baphomet introduced the remaining demon to the Slayer.

Buffy frowned, feeling sympathy as well as revulsion at the sight of the demon. Baubo consisted of the lower half of a naked woman's body, in which a pretty face appeared upon a full, perhaps pregnant, lower belly, the vagina forming, as it were, a cleft in the chin. The groin formed a dome—the creature's skull—topped with elaborately styled hair. The eyes were framed by dark mascara, which made them stand out, so to speak, thereby emphasizing that the face occupied the creature's lower belly. There was no bosom, no neck, no head, and no arms.

"She was delightful," the devil said, "and, in her own way, quite beautiful, but the witch is lovelier still—and the inside of her is warm and soft and wet—oh, and tight! Her cunt fits my cock like a sheath fits a sword. "

Tears sprang to Buffy's eyes. "Willow," she whispered, "I'm sorry. "

"Buffy—" Willow started to reply, but Baphomet cut her off.

"Silence!"

His word was like the lash of a whip; both his captives winced. The stone chamber became as quiet as Spike's tomb when the vampire was not at home.

The devil repeated his offer: "You have sex with my guards. If you survive that, you have sex with me. If you survive that, you and the witch are free to go. "

Buffy's wind had returned. She rose, shakily, and stared at the horrible devil on whose cock her friend was impaled. She looked at the deep claws embedded in Willow's bleeding breasts. As she looked on, Baphomet bit his new consort's neck.

Buffy started forward, but she collided with an invisible wall, a magical force field that, presumably, Baphomet had conjured the moment that the Slayer had flung herself toward him. Rebounding from the imperceptible barrier, Buffy landed on her ass. How humiliating, she thought.

The devil removed his mouth from Willow's neck, and Buffy saw two puncture wounds, much like those that a vampire left upon his or her victim's throat. Blood trickled from the bite. Baphomet smiled, looking at the Slayer. "What do you say to my terms?" he demanded.

Buffy returned his scowl. "I accept them," she answered.

"Buffy! No!" Willow protested.

Ignoring her friend, Buffy said, "Bring them on. "

Baphomet's smile broadened into a grin. "You can't win," he predicted, "but you can—and will—be violated. Then, you shall die. "

"I can see why Baubo fell for you," Buffy quipped. "You're one hell of a sweet talker!"

"Let the contests begin," Baphomet said. His legs bounced, his thighs flexing, and he drove his cock farther into Willow's cunt. The massive organ shone in the torchlight, wet with the witch's juices. The devil's hands squeezed Willow's tiny tits, and more blood flowed from the wounds his claws had made in her flesh. "I will fuck the witch while I watch," he announced. "She is wanton and likes to be fucked, don't you, Willow?"

Willow said nothing.

The devil shoved his cock into her vagina, his hands clamping her tits like vises.

Willow gasped in pain. "Yes!" she replied.

Baphomet laughed. Then, turning his attention to his new consort's would-be rescuer, the devil said, "Get on your knees, bitch!"

Buffy did as she was told. If she wanted to rescue Willow, if she wanted to return to Sunnydale, if she wanted to see her friends again, she had no choice. This demon king was too powerful to defeat in hand-to-hand combat. If she beat him, it would have to be on his own terms—she would have to survive a gangbang—by demons.

Four demons surrounded Buffy. They were naked, with long cocks and huge balls. Buffy glared up at them as she examined their odd bodies. Like everything in this demon dimension, their physiques seemed to be perverse mockeries of all that was normal and natural. One was blue, another red, the third green, and the fourth orange. They weren't painted; these colors were the result of their own warped pigmentation. One had scales. Another had armor plate. The third was equipped with bony ridges. The last was arrayed with thorny spikes. As they stood round the Slayer, they manipulated their penises with clawed fists, coiled tentacles, talon-equipped paws, or the pronged tips of leathery wings.

Within minutes, the green demon had reached orgasm. He groaned loud and long, shaking his cock in Buffy's face. The hideous phallus, like the rest of his body, was equipped with bony ridges. The bony bands formed a spiral around the stiff, hard prick. His foul, olive-colored semen spurted from the tip of his prick, splattering against Buffy's face. A streamer unfurled in her hair. Another jet of the fetid seed spewed over Buffy's nose, coursing slowly down the bridge, past the corner of her mouth, and off her chin, dripping onto her bare breasts. A fourth squirt burst against the Slayer's forehead.

She started to wipe the fluid from her face with the back of her hand, but Baphomet forbade her from doing so. "Leave it! Bathe his cock with your tongue!" the devil commanded.

Buffy swallowed her disgust, extended her tongue and licked the semen from the demon's prick. The stuff was foul, bitter, vile. She gagged.

"All of it," Baphomet ordered.

Pausing to gag and retch, Buffy managed, at last, to lick up every last drop of the demon's sickening seed. Never had she tasted anything so appalling. She never wanted to taste anything as nasty again.

While she'd been licking the green demon's olive-colored semen from his cock, the red demon reached the point of no return. Moaning, he emptied his load of thick, viscid, crimson semen into Buffy's face. Like the olive-colored semen with which it mingled, the red was as thick and as sticky as syrup. It festooned the Slayer's hair, brow, and cheeks. A strand of the horrible stuff stretched across her left eye, from brow to cheek. The demon rammed its scaly penis between Buffy's lips, smearing them with the seed that seeped and oozed from the tip of its member. Buffy closed her eyes against the tears of humiliation and rage that welled within them, hating these demons, hating Anya, and, most of all, hating herself. She felt as if she were no better than a slut or a whore, although she knew, at the same time, that she had not chosen to participate in these vile acts; they'd been, as it were, thrust upon her. The crimson sperm tasted as hideous as the first demon's olive-colored seed, but Buffy choked it down.

As she was licking away the residue of the red demon's crimson semen, the blue, armor-plated fiend began to pump the flesh upon its cock furiously back and forth in its coiled tentacle, and a stream of sapphire semen gushed from its glans, splattering Buffy's lips and chin. The thick gunk trickled down her throat and breasts. The Slayer's face was streaked, smeared, and coated with olive-colored, crimson, and sapphire semen. It was quite colorful, in a grotesque fashion. More than anything, it was humiliating. Buffy kept her eyes and her mouth tightly shut, although, after each demon had ejaculated in her face, she was compelled to lick the excess scum from the brute's member, and the demons usually fucked her face, as their cocks remained stiff and swollen for some time after they'd climaxed before resuming their original flaccid state. She licked the cum from the red demon's scarlet cock and balls. It was as vile and nasty as its predecessors', tasting the way, Buffy imagined, vomit might taste. Like everything else in this hellish place, it was weird. The texture was not smooth; it was lumpy, like tapioca or oatmeal, the huge sperm within the semen giving it a coarse, unpleasant consistency. Buffy let a mouthful of the bitter seminal porridge dribble over her lower lip, down her chin, and onto her bosom. Three down, she thought, and one to go.

The orange demon had been masturbating frantically as he watched his brethren ejaculate in the Slayer's beautiful face. His eyes flicked from Buffy's cum-covered face, semen-smeared bosom, and stiff, standing cock. The female breasts and the male cock and balls seemed to excite him. Buffy had her eyes closed, but she'd seen that the spiny-skinned demon's cock, fortunately, was not bristling with spikes the way that the rest of his body was. For that, she was thankful, because a face full of those tiny barbs would be painful, and they might also be disfiguring. The orange demon began to moan, announcing that ecstasy was imminent. Buffy closed her eyes more tightly; she didn't want the imp's vile semen in her eyes. She felt a warm blast against her nostrils, another against her lips and chin, a third against her left cheek, a fourth against her right eye, and a fifth against her forehead. In addition, she felt a stinging sensation with each load of cum that splattered against her flesh. The thing's sperm were tiny spines, and the sharp missiles stung as they pierced her skin. Horrified, Buffy's eyes snapped wide, and her lower jaw dropped—just in time to receive the last couple of spurts of seed from the demon's stiff, swollen cock. The tiny needles of his sperm shot into her mouth, and she felt them, sharp-pointed missiles, pierce her tongue and the roof of her mouth. Quickly, she snapped her jaws shut, taking a volley of the pointed sperm in her lower lip. She'd managed to shut her eyes again before any of the tiny spears of semen had punctured her eyeballs.

Buffy's hair, brow, eyes, nose, cheeks, lips, and chin were awash in the demons' multi-colored semen. Gobs of blue, globs of orange, green lathers, and crimson froth decorated her features. Strands of sapphire, ribbons of ginger, olive-colored streamers, and pink banners bedecked and adorned the Slayer's pretty face; drops had dripped from her jaw and chin to her breasts, and she wore the bright globules like melted beads.

The Slayer felt humiliated, disgraced, mortified. Never would she have allowed anyone, man or demon, to abase her in such a manner, spewing their seed into her face while she knelt before them like a whore, had it not been necessary to rescue Willow from these fiends. She knew this as surely as she knew her own name, but the knowledge did not prevent her from feeling like a slut.

"You are a mess," Baphomet called to her, chuckling, "but a colorful mess. "

Buffy shot him a defiant glance, observing, in the process, that the giant demon, still seated upon his stone throne, with Willow upon his lap, was humping the witch. His cock was still huge and thick as a baseball bat. Willow winced with each thrust of his member into her tight, delicate pussy.

"Lean forward," the devil commanded Buffy. "Position yourself on your elbows and knees, legs well spread, with your ass in the air. "

Buffy hesitated.

Baphomet dug his claws more firmly into Willow's tiny breasts, and the witch cried out in pain. "Do it! Now!" the devil ordered.

The Slayer obeyed, positioning herself as she'd been directed to do. She felt helpless in such a posture, her bare ass and the crescent curve of her cunt exposed from behind, her breasts, cock, and balls dangling beneath her in the front, the four demons' hideous cum trickling down her face and her bosom, a spectacle for Baphomet to enjoy and for poor Willow to witness as the devil continued to thrust his enormous cock into her pussy.

The next demon entered the throne room. He was tall, with a magnificent body—wide shoulders, deep chest, tight abs, sinewy thighs and calves, strong arms, a powerful back, and tight, compact buttocks. His arms ended not in hands, but in suction cups. His balls were huge, dangling within the wrinkled pouch of his scrotum almost to his knees and swaying with his every step. His two-pronged cock was erect. It jutted from his groin, stiff and swollen with lust. A second, smaller shaft—about the size of an average human penis—branched off the underside of the main shaft, which was massive, angling so that, if Buffy were in the missionary position, on her back, as the larger shaft entered her cunt, the smaller would impale her anus. With a flutter of dread in the pit of her stomach, Buffy realized that, in her present position, the larger cock would penetrate her asshole, while the smaller member slid into her pussy. She wasn't sure that her anus—or, for that matter, her rectum—would be able to accommodate such a huge organ. The monstrous cock might rip her entrails apart. Baphomet's words echoed in her mind: "You have sex with my guards. If you survive that, you have sex with me. If you survive that, you and the witch are free to go. " Suddenly, the devil's conditions took on truly ominous significance.

After allowing Buffy a look at his bizarre genitals and the suction cups he possessed in lieu of hands, the demon took his place, kneeling behind the Slayer on the cold, hard, stone floor. She felt the thick glans of the longer penis slide past the inward-curving slopes of her sleek buttocks. The tip of the rubbery dome that topped the prick encountered Buffy's asshole. The tiny, puckered anus offered fierce resistance. Initially, despite his enormous strength, the fiend was unable to penetrate the Slayer's asshole. Like the rest of her, her anal sphincter was well toned and exceedingly strong.

The demon fastened his suction cups upon Buffy's breasts. She could feel them clutching her tits in their close-fitting, rubbery grasp. It felt almost as if her tits had simply become larger, acquiring more tissue—until the cups began to suck and squeeze her breasts. The sensations of the squeezing and the tickling, nursing sensations made Buffy weak in the knees and the stomach, and she moaned with intense pleasure, her nipples stiffening and swelling inside the suckling cups. Much to Buffy's annoyance and mortification, her cock, always erect, stiffened and swelled further.

Another inch of the demon's erection slid past Buffy's smooth, soft buttocks, as the fiend redoubled his effort to penetrate the Slayer's asshole. She felt the pressure build against her anus. The tiny opening widened before the tremendous force; Buffy felt her asshole spread, opening to admit the invading organ. She grit her teeth, closing her eyes, as deep feelings of revulsion and shame overcame her, and tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.

"Are you enjoying your friend's discomfort?" Baphomet asked Willow as he jammed his cock more deeply into her snug cunt.

Willow said nothing.

The devil tightened his claws in her breasts. Willow squealed. "Answer me, witch—or is it 'bitch'?"

"No," Willow replied.

Baphomet laughed. "You will. "

The pressure building against Buffy's asshole, already tremendous, increased still more. Her anus spread further. Abruptly, the stout defense gave way, and the Slayer felt several inches of the huge organ slide past the circle of her anus. She gasped. At first, as the demon had tried to penetrate her, Buffy had felt discomfort; now that his cock was lodged within her buttocks, she felt pain and, with it, uncharacteristically, fear. She was terrified that the cock would prove too large for her ass to accommodate and that it would split her in half or shred her entrails. Moreover, the dreadful feeling of helplessness again swept over her, as did the rage and the sense of condemnation. Whore! Slut! Bitch! These words screamed themselves inside her head, and, she'd learned, there was no denying them, even when she knew that she was not a voluntary participant in these shameful, brutal acts; to rescue Willow, she had no choice but to allow the demons to use and abuse her in any way that they wished, no matter how degrading.

Her impaled asshole began to spasm, fluttering frantically about the thick, hard cock, as if in a desperate, but vain, effort to dislodge the invading member. The demon grinned, delighting in the flurry of sensations that the rapidly contracting and expanding ring of muscle produced along the shaft of his cock. Wonderful tendrils of pleasure and sparks of passion shot through his balls, and his own anus fluttered in response to hers. When the paroxysms subsided, the demon brutally shoved several more inches of his prick into Buffy's bowels. The Slayer gasped.

"Are you enjoying the show yet?" Baphomet asked Willow.

"Enjoy seeing my best friend abused by one of your fucking demons? Never!"

Baphomet chuckled. His eight-inch-long, forked tongue licked the witch's neck, leaving a trail of drool in its wake. He jiggled her breasts in his cupped hands and shoved and jerked his prick back and forth inside her cunt a few times. Willow's pussy streamed with her warm, thick juices. She hated herself for the natural responses her vagina made to being fucked. She was a lesbian. She loved women, not men—and certainly not a devil that had a huge, grotesque prick and heavy balls—and, unknown as yet to Buffy, who, unlike Willow, hadn't seen Baphomet's chest—a pair of beautiful, womanly breasts.

On the floor, the Slayer moaned, tears spilling from her closed eyes. The demon had slammed even more of its cock through her asshole, and, now, its second prick—or, rather, the smaller shaft that branched off from the underside of the larger one—brushed the lips of her cunt. Another inch of the upper shaft penetrated the Slayer's bottom; then, the smaller shaft slid past the petal-soft lips of Buffy's pussy. More tears, of pain and shame, spilled from her eyes.

The tickling, flicking sensations that assaulted Buffy's nipples sent delicious waves of pleasure through her breasts, clitoris, and balls. The suction cups that the demon had affixed to her tits were equipped with tongue-like appendages. Wet and flexible, these accessories licked and lapped the swollen buds of the Slayer's nipples. More and more waves of pleasure swept through her, even as she felt mortified and ashamed because of the cock buried in her ass and the other one that continued to seek access to her cunt.

Something wet also licked the Slayer's cock and balls. Buffy opened her eyes. A bright orange streamer of semen stretched from her left eyebrow to the bridge of her nose, partly obscuring her sight. She brushed it away with a fingertip. Looking down, past her dangling breasts, she spied the odd demon that Baphomet had identified earlier as his former consort, Baubo. The creature's back was toward Buffy, so she couldn't see the pretty face with the wide, mascara-framed eyes, the pert nose, and the bowed lips beneath the headless figure's coiffed hair. All Buffy could see was the demon's hair, which fell to its waist, and the smooth, shapely legs below its cute, dimpled buttocks. It was obvious, however, that Baubo was either sucking Buffy's cock or had inserted the Slayer's penis inside the cleft in its chin that was actually the entrance to its vagina. In any case, Buffy thought, it was damned disconcerting to see a human-like form that had neither neck, upper body, nor arms. Baubo, despite her pretty face, the cute labia-cleft in her chin, her lovely legs, her beautiful buttocks, and her stylish hair, remained but a caricature and a mockery of real women—no doubt, precisely as Baphomet intended her to be, looking like an armless, female version of Humpty Dumpty.

The demon with the double-pronged dick jammed more of the larger branch of his cock into Buffy's asshole, and she shuddered, biting back a scream of pain and fear, not willing to admit her helplessness and her terror. The second, smaller branch of the fiend's cock slid deep into Buffy's pussy, and she felt her cunt juices rise in response, lubricating her pussy. Her asshole was not lubricated, however, and it was not meant to be fucked. As a consequence, the massive organ that filled it beyond its capacity was painful, as was every deeper thrust that it made into her rectum. Buffy was thankful, in an ironic, perverse way, that the clutching, stroking, licking sensations of the suction cups on her breasts and Baubo's mouth and tongue on her cock and balls took the edge off the discomfort and pain that being impaled by a huge cock in her ass and a lesser one in her cunt caused her to suffer. The mixture of pain and pleasure was, she realized, titillating, despite the incongruity of the two opposing sensations and the conflicting feelings, both physical and psychological, that their simultaneous experience stirred inside her. Buffy knew that she was being abused emotionally as well as sexually, but she almost no longer cared; she would rather give in to the confusion, become friends with the chaos, and enjoy the mixed feelings of pain, pleasure, guilt, fear, revulsion, self-contempt, and sexual passion. She'd like to abandon herself to these delicious, conflicting, tormenting sensations and emotions, letting them overwhelm her and possess her. The pain of the cock-thrusts into her cunt and ass were not contradicted, but complemented, by the tickling sensations in her nipples and breasts and the waves of pleasure that dashed along her cock and exploded in her balls. Bitch! Slut! Whore! She no longer minded the words that shouted themselves in her mind. In fact, she rather liked being called such vile names. They were sexy.

Buffy's cock slipped out of Baubo's mouth, and she licked the smooth skin of the stiff, elongated shaft with her tongue. Baubo had no hands, but, even so, she was a superb cock sucker. More than once, she brought the Slayer to the brink of orgasm, then backed off, letting Buffy's sexual passion abate before she mounted another oral assault upon the young woman's perpetually hard prick, pausing to lap at the taut skin of the scrotum that surrounded Buffy's risen testicles. The suction cups also intensified and then lessened the nuzzling-licking-squeezing-nursing-caressing-pumping actions that they performed upon Buffy's cupped breasts, sending waves of pleasure undulating through her bosom and her cunt. These wonderful, delightful sensations both detracted from and enhanced the discomfort and pain that Buffy experienced as the demon's monster cock lunged and plunged through the impaled anus between Buffy's bouncing buttocks.

The demon's balls pressed firmly against Buffy's upper thighs, its matted pubic hair rasping against the cleavage between her buttocks, as both prongs of its cock shoved into their respective orifices, all the way to the root. She could feel the stiff columns touching one another through the thin walls that separated her pussy and her rectum; they slid back and forth against one another as the demon double-fucked her with its two-pronged prick, adding both to its own sensations and to Buffy's as well. Back and forth, with greater rapidity and force each time, the demon rammed his pricks through Buffy's asshole and cunt, the former remaining dry while the latter released a flood of her warm, rich cunt juices. Buffy had never had a cock up her ass at the same time that she was being fucked in the cunt, and the flood of sensations, confounded even more by the welter of sensations that she felt in her nipples, areolas, breasts, clitoris, cock, and balls, overwhelmed her. She gasped, moaned, and, finally, screamed.

"Buffy!" Willow cried in alarm.

Baphomet laughed, thrusting his cock into the witch. "She's not hurt," he explained. "She's in the throes of ecstasy. "

Buffy had always thought the use of fireworks to represent orgasm was an exaggerated metaphor, but, now, in the grip of the greatest orgasm she'd ever experienced, the Slayer realized that, if anything, the metaphor was a pale visualization of the event. As her semen burst from her convulsing cock, into Baubo's hungry maw, Buffy's heart stammered, her breath came in gasps, her thighs shuddered, and her asshole trembled violently about the cock that penetrated her. She felt as if she'd died and come back to life a thousand times within the few seconds that it took for her to release the reservoir of sperm she ejaculated. At the same time, as Buffy reached orgasm, the suction cups fell from her breasts, and she felt the demon's hips press hard against her rear; a shudder ran through the fiend, and he howled, jerking his double-pronged dick from the Slayer's asshole and cunt to let the shafts spew his warm, viscid seed over her back, her ass cheeks, her perineum, her labia, and the backs of her thighs so that Buffy was kneeling in a pool of the thick fluid.

Baubo continued to lick Buffy's semen from the Slayer's still-stiff cock and the double-dicked demon wiped the dregs of his oozing semen over the Slayer's cum-covered buttocks until Baphomet ordered them to desist. Reluctantly, upon their master's command, the lesser demons withdrew, leaving Buffy with a sore, gaping asshole, dripping, like most of the rest of her, with cum. Although she was aware that the demons had left, she remained in place, upon her elbows and knees, legs spread wide, with her ass in the air, showing her cavernous, well-reamed anus, her eyes upon the semen-covered floor.

Willow didn't like the change that had come over her friend. Buffy had always been aggressive and confident, defiant and courageous. On her elbows and knees, in a pool of demon scum, her face and breasts, back, thighs, buttocks, and pussy bedecked, bejeweled, and garlanded in loops and beads and splatters of demon semen, she didn't look anything like the self-assured, kick-ass Slayer that Willow had known since their early high school days. She looked defeated, humbled, humiliated.

"Look at me," Baphomet commanded.

Obediently, Buffy raised her head, her hollow, empty eyes gazing upon the magnificent devil seated upon the stone throne, his huge cock stuffing Willow's cunt. Buffy wanted to look away, to avert her eyes. Baphomet's gaze was fiery and intense, like glowing coals. They seemed to burn into Buffy's heart and soul. However, to look away would be to invite the devil's wrath, for he had told her to look at him, and he had not given her permission to look away.

"You have acquitted yourself well—so far," the devil informed Buffy, "but one match remains. If you survive it, you will pit yourself against me in a final contest. If you win, you may take Willow and return to your homeland. If you lose, you will join the witch as my consort and live here, with me, forever. Do you understand?"

Buffy nodded, not trusting her voice. She was afraid her words might waver or that she might cry.

Baphomet shoved Willow, and the witch stumbled away from him, tripping on one of the stairs that led up to the throne, and slid through a pool of demon semen, coming to a stop a few feet from Buffy. The devil stood, and Buffy saw its round, firm, high tits. Baphomet, like her, was a hermaphrodite—well, not quite. He was even more of a travesty of human sexuality than she was, for, despite her cock and balls, she had retained her cunt as well as her breasts, whereas the devil who now stood before her, cock erect, had no pussy. Instead, Baphomet had only the sexual accoutrements of the male sex, except for the beautiful, womanly breasts that adorned his chest. He was like Buffy—in her present, transformed state—but he was also different from her. Besides, Buffy's hermaphroditic state was the result of her having been bitten by a Feral demon; Baphomet's was self-induced, chosen. A spark of Buffy's inner fire flared. Her hesitant gaze became a glare. Baphomet grinned. The contest was far from over.

The next demon to challenge Buffy had a feminine form. Actually, she looked like a human female, and a beautiful one at that. She had lustrous black hair, wide blue eyes, a thin, pert nose, and full, sensuous lips. Her neck was long and graceful, and her breasts were full, high, round, and firm. Her abdomen was slightly concave, and her hips were girlishly narrow. Her pubes were trimmed neatly, and the cleft of her sex showed at the nadir of her groin. Her legs were long, slender, and shapely. Her buttocks were full and soft, yet firm, and sleek. The only characteristic that gave her away as being a demon, as far as Buffy could determine, was the lizard-like tail that grew from the small of her back and ended at the tops of her calves. It swished back and forth in a wary, rather than a friendly, manner. The woman-thing approached Buffy. When it was close, it lay down on the semen-smeared floor, parting its legs wide, and waited.

"Lick her cunt," Baphomet instructed Buffy. "Eat her pussy. "

The Slayer hesitated. Unlike Willow, Buffy wasn't a lesbian. The only other woman with whom she'd had sex was Anya. However, since the Feral demon's bite had bestowed both a penis and a pair of testicles upon her, Buffy hadn't been as repulsed by the idea of making love to another woman as she would have been before. This creature was no woman, though, no matter how much, excluding the lizard's tail, it might resemble one. It was a loathsome, disgusting demon—unlike Anya, whom Buffy knew and regarded as a friend—at least before Willow's abduction as a result of Anya's spell, this one, despite her beguiling beauty, was all fiend.

"Remember our agreement," Baphomet said. "You have sex with my guards. If you survive that, you have sex with me. If you survive that, you and the witch are free to go. "

Reluctantly, Buffy knelt before the sacrilegious altar of the demon-woman's cunt. The creature responded by rolling backward, extending its legs over its shoulders, and presenting its buttocks and cunt to the Slayer.

Grimacing, Buffy leaned forward, placing the tip of her moist, pink tongue against the bud of the demon's erect clitoris. Already, the fiend's cunt was wet. Buffy lapped at the hooded clit, and the demon moaned, writhing its hips. Buffy licked harder. The clitoris stirred, stiffening more. It lengthened.

"Kiss it," Baphomet commanded.

Buffy obeyed the devil's command, kissing the demon's clitoris. She stoked the still-lengthening shaft with her tongue. It was wet with the imp's juices. Despite herself, Buffy was becoming excited. Her nipples stiffened and swelled, and her cock pulsed. She supposed it was the extra testosterone that her testicles produced in addition to the meager supply that her pituitary gland furnished that made her so hot and horny, so turned on by a cunt in her face and her licking another woman's—or, rather, another female's—clit. She bent closer to the demon's sopping pussy, inserting the tip of her nose into the wet, slick crevice, and lifted her head slowly, trailing her nose through the smooth furrow. Next, she licked the groove, tasting the demon's warm juices. Her face shone with the demon-pussy's lubricant.

Willow, lying upon the stone floor, where Baphomet had flung her, watched, wide eyed, as her best friend licked and nuzzled and stroked and petted and kissed the demon's clit, labia, and cunt. Buffy was obviously enjoying herself, and the sight of the blonde-haired honey relishing a flooded pussy enflamed Willow's lesbian passions. She'd give anything to be in the female demon's place. She thought about touching herself, but Willow didn't want release. She wanted the sexual tension inside her to mount. She wanted to feel hornier. Already, her pussy was swamped with her juices. If she were to start masturbating, she'd reach orgasm in an instant. Then, although she'd obtain relief, the wonderful feeling of being aroused would dissipate. Besides, she was more interested in watching Buffy eat pussy than she was in masturbating.

As she licked the demon's wet, slick pussy, Buffy's own cunt became soaked, and her juices trickled, then streamed, down her smooth thighs. A drop of Cowper's fluid, or pre-cum, formed a clear bead at the slit atop the glans of her rigid, upright penis. Her balls were high in her tight, risen scrotum, and they ached painfully, in need of orgasm's release, despite the fact that, just minutes ago, she'd ejaculated a generous reserve of her molten seed.

As Buffy continued to lick and lap and kiss the female demon's genitals, Willow studied the Slayer's asshole. With Buffy bent well forward at the waist, lapping cunt, her buttocks were spread above the crescent of her parted pussy, and the witch could see that the Slayer's anus remained as gaping as it had been when the double-dicked demon had fucked her fore and aft with his two-pronged phallus. Her asshole was huge—the size of a ping pong ball. The wide-stretched circle allowed Willow actually to look down, into her friend's ass and see the smooth, pink walls of Buffy's rectum. It was hard to believe that Buffy had survived having been fucked in her tight, fine ass by as enormous a prick as her demon lover had possessed. The power, the force, and the strength of the demon made Willow recall the times when, before she'd discovered the true nature of her sexuality, she and Oz had fucked. Even as a high school boy, between the times when full-moon madness transformed him into a werewolf, Oz had had terrific strength and stamina but, although he'd never fucked Willow in the butt, the witch didn't think that he'd have been able to ream her asshole the way the demon had reamed Buffy's, nor did Willow think that she could have taken such a pounding. If she and Tara hadn't made such fantastic lovers, Willow might, even now, consider returning to Boys' Town. However, her relationship with Tara had proven to Willow, once and for all, that her allegiance was with other women, socially, politically, emotionally, and sexually. Still, it had been highly erotic to see Buffy take a cock in both her cunt and her ass, just as it was thrilling to consider the results of her having been assaulted anally. The Slayer's gaping asshole was exciting as hell.

The wet, slurping sounds that Buffy made as she licked the demon's cunt were also titillating. Buffy stroked the fiend's hooded clitoris with the tip of her tongue, nuzzled it with her lips, and bit gently at it with her teeth. The demon writhed, and her hips thrashed. Her legs flexed and bent. Her cunt was a river, an ocean.

As Buffy drank the demon's cunt juices, she noticed that there was something else, besides the lizard-like tail, that marked the creature as a fiend. The imp's clitoris had lengthened to the size of a man's cock! It was seven inches long and as big around as a plump sausage. It differed only from an uncut cock in that there was no slit at its tip—no glans meatus, were the correct anatomical term to be used—and there was no glans as such—no purple-blue dome, or cock head. There were also no balls. The more Buffy continued to lick and stroke the damned thing, the longer and thicker and firmer it became.

Willow crawled toward the couple. She wanted that demon-clitoris in her cunt.

Baphomet said nothing, allowing the witch to join the others. While Buffy had licked the demon's pussy, the devil had masturbated, ejaculating great, thick gobs of viscid semen from his enormous prick. Now, he wiped the fluid onto his breasts, as if it were a lotion. The semen frothed under his rotating palms.

Willow reached the Slayer and her demon lover. "Buffy," she rasped, her voice hoarse with pent-up desire.

"Willow!" Buffy turned her shining, wet face toward her friend, and smiled.

Willow grinned. "You really know how to turn a gal on," she confided, nodding toward the supine demon. "My pussy's drenched from watching you service her. "

"Want some?" Buffy asked.

"Yours or the demon's?"

Buffy arched an eyebrow.

"The demon's?" Willow interpreted.

"Of course," Buffy said. "You're Gay Girl, not me. "

"You could have fooled me, Buff, the way you were, like, chowing down on demon muff. "

Moving out of Willow's way, Buffy frowned at her friend. "Don't be a smart ass. You know I had no choice. "

Willow straddled the demon, guiding the now-nine-inch clitoris through her labia and into the warm, wet interior of her cunt. "Oooh! This is wonderful!" she cried as she gyrated her hips. Lifting her haunches, the redhead let herself drop back down upon the penis-size clitoris. "Uh!" She repeated the motion again and again, with increasing force and rapidity. "Uh! Uh! Uh!" The demon-clit felt similar to Oz's cock, when he'd used it to fuck her, years ago, except that, since it was a huge clitoris instead of a dick that lunged into her pussy, it was, emotionally, much more pleasurable for the lesbian witch.

The demon seemed to enjoy the act as much as Willow. Its tail swooped between its legs and arched over Willow's back. The tip, finding the witch's anus, slipped through the ring of muscle, penetrating the redhead's ass. As Willow rode its clit-cock, the demon worked her tail deeper and deeper into her rectum. As the tail progressed into Willow's bowel, it thickened rather than narrowed, since it tapered from the thicker part that grew out of the imp's back to the slender tip at the other end. Willow's asshole widened more and more as additional inches of the thickening tail insinuated itself into the witch's backside.

To Baphomet, it seemed that Willow was enjoying herself way too much. Anya, the vengeance demon, had dispatched the witch to Baphomet's demon dimension to be punished, not to be rewarded, for her friend Xander's having jilted Anya at the altar.

"Enough!" the devil boomed.

Willow stopped, sitting motionless atop the demon's clitoris. The demon, likewise, froze, with two thirds of its lizard's tail filling Willow's bowel.

The devil looked at Buffy. "Congratulations, Slayer, you have won the contests against my minions. Now, you will face me. Survive, and you and the witch are free to go; lose, and you are both my eternal consorts, and, believe me when I tell you, I will delight in making your miserable existence a living hell. "

"Let's get this over with," Buffy suggested. "The sooner we start, the sooner I kick your demon ass. "

Baphomet smiled. "You will fuck the witch," he said, "while I fuck you. "

Buffy shook her head. "Willow's my best friend. I can't—"

"Then you have lost before we've begun. "

"Buffy, it's okay," Willow said.

The Slayer looked at her. "Will, we've been friends since high school. "

The redheaded witch smiled. "And I've wanted you since college, when I first realized I'm gay. "

Buffy blushed. "Really?"

Willow nodded. "Really. "

"There," Baphomet declared, "you see. You have no reason to object or refuse. " The devil looked at Willow. "On your elbows and knees, witch. "

Willow smiled at Buffy, offering her a lascivious wink. She knelt, leaned forward, caught herself upon the palms of her hands, and lowered herself onto her elbows.

"Spread your legs," Baphomet directed.

Willow moved her knees apart.

Buffy blushed, as the curve of her friend's cunt came into view beneath Willow's parted buttocks. The witch's asshole was visible, too. Buffy had never doubted that Willow was a real redhead, although some of their high school classmates had contended that she was "as red as a bottle of bad hair dye. " Willow's pubic hair proved that she was a natural redhead, just as Buffy's showed that she was a natural blonde—not that Willow had much pubic hair. She kept it neatly trimmed. Her buttocks, Buffy saw, were as pale as the rest of her creamy complexion. The skin on the witch's ass was as sleek and flawless as it was everywhere else, and Willow's anus was a mere dimple. Below her, the witch's tiny tits hung down—but barely.

"Like what you see, Slayer?" Baphomet asked, chuckling.

Embarrassed to have been caught ogling her best friend, Buffy looked away, her face reddening again.

"Now, you kneel," the devil instructed the Slayer, "behind her. "

Once again, Buffy thought of defying the devil. If she refused to comply with his commands, however, Willow and she would remain prisoners in this hellhole forever—and not mere prisoners, but "consorts' to His Fiendishness. Talk about a fate worse than death, she thought. Reluctantly, with a huge sigh, she did as she'd been told to do, kneeling behind her friend.

She took her cock in hand, marveling again at the smooth cylinder of flesh that the Feral demon's bite had bequeathed her, and guided its tip toward the lips that led into the witch's succulent sexual center.

"Not her cunt," Baphomet corrected. "Her ass. "

Buffy whipped her head around to face their tormentor. "What?"

The devil laughed. "You heard me—her ass. "

Although, since becoming a hermaphrodite, Buffy had been fucked in the ass, she'd never butt fucked anyone else, not even with a dildo, and especially not with a cock. How could she have, even if she'd wanted to do so, when she'd had no prick until yesterday, when she'd awakened with an erection jutting from her downy pubes.

Buffy recalled the gigantic penis that had thrust back and forth inside her wide-stretched asshole. It had been uncomfortable at best, and, at worst, it had hurt—considerably. Moreover, the psychological impact of her having been sodomized had been devastating; she still suffered feelings of guilt, shame, and rage. These powerful emotions might remain with her for years to come. Not only had she been raped by demons, but they'd taken her anally, debasing her in front of one of the people about whom she cared the most. Buffy would never get over the experience. It would haunt her for the rest of her life. She'd reproach herself again and again, as she had at the time, as being a whore, a slut, and a cheap tart. She couldn't be a party to making Willow feel the same way about herself.

Willow wriggled her behind. "It's okay, Buffy," she said.

No, it wasn't, the Slayer thought. Being fucked in the ass was humiliating and shameful. She thought of Xander with his cock in his construction crew member's ass, and she felt a stab of pity for him. No one knew that he was bisexual, not even Willow, with whom he'd gone to kindergarten. His shame was painfully obvious to Buffy when she'd walked into his basement apartment unannounced and caught him in the act. Mortified, he'd made her promise not to tell. Buffy recalled the incident in detail; she doubted she'd ever forget it, any more than Xander would:

As she'd been about to knock at the sill of the door that led into the basement room in Xander's parents' house that he'd had made into his apartment, she'd heard a man moaning, and she'd thought that Xander might be hurt. She'd rushed through the doorway, only to hear the man cry, "Fuck me, Xander! Fuck me fast and hard!"

Buffy had stopped, her mouth agape, staring in shock at Xander as he drove his erect member into his male partner's impaled ass. Her friend withdrew his cock, letting all but its glans pull out of the other man's derriere. He paused before plunging his prick again into the deep cleavage of his partner's tight, compact buttocks. Repeatedly, Xander lifted his ass, withdrawing his cock again, and rammed it home. "Xander?" she'd called, too stunned to stop herself from uttering his name—and giving away her presence.

Immediately, Xander had jerked his cock from the other man's ass, rolling toward Buffy and trying, unsuccessfully, to cover his erect member with his hands. He'd been as staggered as Buffy to find the Slayer in what passed for his bedroom. "Buffy!" he'd cried, his face a mask of fear and horror.

Xander had asked his friend, Chester, if they could finish later, and the latter had agreed, taking his leave. After Chester had departed, Xander, sounding and looking sheepish, had apologized

"For what?" she'd replied, trying to sound casual. Instead, she'd sounded artificial.

"I should have told you I'm bisexual. I should have told Willow, too. "

"No big," Buffy had lied.

Obviously distressed at having been caught fucking another man in the ass, Xander had stared into the Slayer's eyes. "About what happened here, Buffy—can it be our secret?" he'd asked, adding, "I'm very comfortable living in the closet, and—"

Buffy had tried to put him at ease with a corny joke: "Closet? I thought you lived in your parents' basement. "

Nevertheless, Xander had looked devastated. It must be really hard to have one of your best friends discover such a secret about you, Buffy had thought.

Looking sick, Xander had made her promise not to tell anyone else about the incident—or his true sexuality. Of course, Buffy had agreed never to divulge what she had learned. "No one's going to know," she had assured him, adding, "What someone does in the privacy of his own home is totally his business. " Watching him closely as she spoke to him, she'd noticed that he was crying.

He'd wiped the teardrop away, apologizing again, his voice breaking. He'd sobbed, the tears coming fast and furiously, his body shaking, and a keening, wailing sound coming from the depths of his being.

Crossing the room, Buffy had held him the way that a mother might hold a frightened child, cooing soothingly to him. "It's all right, Xander," she'd whispered.

"It's been so hard living a lie all these years," he'd confessed between the sobs that wracked his body. He'd explained that he'd wanted to tell Buffy, Willow, Giles, and everyone else many times, but he'd been too ashamed.

"There's no need to be ashamed," Buffy had assured him, contending, "We are who we are. "

Xander hadn't been consoled, though; he'd continued to weep.

"Willow's gay," Buffy had reminded him, "but that doesn't make us love her any the less. " Her reminder had had the intended effect—or so Buffy had believed, at the time. Now, having been fucked in the ass and having had to eat pussy, Buffy realized that her attempts to console Xander had been both presumptuous and asinine. Xander had been—and most likely still was—in serious emotional pain, in psychological torment, and she'd relied upon clichés and political propaganda to placate him. He'd suffered the equivalent of a spiritual sucking chest wound, and she'd applied a Band-aid of politically correct platitudes. Now, having gone through similar sexual experiences, Buffy knew the depths of the guilt, fear, humiliation, and shame that would continue to erode her self-confidence, self-esteem, self-respect, and joy for the rest of her days. Xander no doubt felt the same welter of confusing doubts and heard the same self-directed recriminations. Whereas she thought of herself, however unjustly, as a slut and a whore, Xander probably called himself such names as "faggot" and "queer. " Despite the gay community's emphasis on pride, many gays continued to feel depressed and miserable about themselves and, more specifically, about their "sexual identities," "preferences," or whatever the socially acceptable term for homosexuality was at the moment. There was no reason to think that, deep down inside, Willow felt differently about being a lesbian. Inside, where she couldn't hide from herself, Willow might feel as guilty, frightened, humiliated, and ashamed as Buffy and, she was sure, Xander did.

Again, the witch wriggled her derriere at the Slayer. "Come on, Buff," she invited her friend, "fuck my ass with your stud-muffin cock!"

"Do it!" Baphomet commanded.

Warm tears spilled from Buffy's eyes, and she inhaled deeply, her features turning down in a heartfelt frown. Her hand trembling, she guided the purple glans of her ever-erect cock between the sleek, snowy globes of her friend's luscious buttocks, targeting Willow's anus.

Feeling the tip of Buffy's prick touch her asshole, Willow pressed back. The glans shoved harder at the tiny portal to Willow's bowels, and the anus spread, opening.

"Fuck my ass!" Willow urged.

The Slayer recalled how she'd felt when her mentor, Rupert Giles, had butt fucked her. Both of them had been terribly ill at ease, seeing one another naked. Giles had been like a father to her, and there she'd been, seated across the pentacle they'd drawn on his floor, naked, trying not to see him without his clothes on, just as he had tried to avert his eyes from her nakedness. However, once they'd gotten naked, try as they might, they hadn't been able to avert their eyes from one another's nakedness. It had been a matter both of human nature and of curiosity. Buffy and her mentor had stolen furtive glances at each other. At last, Buffy had seen what Giles had concealed under the heavy tweed suits he'd worn during his years as Sunnydale High School's librarian, and he'd viewed what Buffy had hidden beneath the stylish outfits—blouses, mini-skirts, and knee-length boots, for the most part—that she'd worn during her high school days. They'd chanted a few lines of bad verse, which the vengeance demon, Anya, had no doubt devised:

 

Let them, who were as father and daughter,

Each become the lover of the other,

Trading self-respect for shame, love for sex,

Thereby breaking the vengeance demon's hex.

 

For each vampire the girl has turned to dust,

A thousand-thousand times increase her lust,

That both the Watcher and the Slayer be

Free to realize their secret fantasies.

 

Let the protégé become but mouth, hands,

Breasts, buttocks, cunt, cock, and balls, to which stands

Her mentor's virile member, thick, swollen,

And rigid from lust-filled thoughts of dire sin.

 

The moment they'd finished the chant, a change had come over Buffy and Giles. Moments before, they'd felt ashamed and humiliated, and they'd averted their eyes from one another's nudity, Buffy feeling it as wrong to be naked in front of the man she regarded as her father as Giles did to be unclothed before the young woman he considered his daughter. After the chant, however, neither had suffered from any such compunctions, and they'd stared boldly across the encircled pentagram that separated them, Buffy admiring the swollen, stiff-standing cock that rose against the former librarian's pubes and belly, and Giles marveling at Buffy's small, pert breasts, concave tummy, smooth, creamy thighs, and the light blonde wisps of hair that decorated her lower abdomen, above her own erect penis and tightly contracted scrotum.

Was something similar happening to Willow? Was her friend's exaggerated lust an effect of some secret spell that Baphomet had cast—or had Willow always been a nymphomaniac? Buffy thought about Willow as she'd been in her high school days. No, she'd hardly have qualified as a nympho. Until she'd surrendered her virginity to Oz, during her senior year, Willow had remained a virgin. After she and Oz split, Willow had enjoyed the only other sexual relationship she'd ever had, as far as Buffy was aware, remaining faithful to Tara. Having had only two lovers hardly made Willow a slut. Buffy herself had had several—Angel, Parker, Riley, Spike, Xander—but she wasn't a slut, so how could Willow be? Slut! Whore! Again the words of shame and commendation shouted themselves in Buffy's mind. Were these labels part of the enchantment of this evil, hellish dimension? Were her feelings of fear, guilt, humiliation, and shame, like her depression, the result of a spell cast by Baphomet—or were they the consequences of her own wanton behavior?

"Come on, Buffy! Fuck me!" Willow urged.

"Willow, you're under a spell," Buffy whispered. "So am I—at least, I think we are. "

"Silence!" Baphomet commanded. "Will you obey me or remain here, forever, as my consorts?"

Buffy's buttocks flexed as she drove her hips forward, sliding her thick, hard cock through the tight ring of Willow's anus. The witch's ass cheeks were incredibly smooth and soft, but firm, against the rigid column of flesh. If this is what it felt like to fuck someone in the ass, Buffy couldn't imagine why any boy would want to fuck a girl's cunt. The grip of Willow's sphincter around her organ was snug. No girl's pussy, even a virgin's, was this tight! Despite the nagging guilt and shame that plagued her about having sex with another girl—and her best friend since high school, at that—Buffy found the thought of fucking Willow's ass extremely exciting—exhilarating enough, in fact, that it made her balls ache with the need to spill their seed. Buffy fed another inch of her manhood into her friend's ass, and another, and another, until, at last, she'd buried her cock inside Willow's rectum, and only her balls remained outside, pressed firmly against the witch's flattened buttocks.

"Uh!" Willow moaned, her fingers playing with her clitoris. "It feels wonderful to be so full of your wonderful cock!"

Buffy remained still, her hips shoved firmly against Willow's bottom, her cock crammed completely up the witch's ass. The feel of her friend's smooth asshole, snug around the base of her prick, was a sensation that she wanted to savor and remember with clarity, in detail. She ground her groin harder against Willow's backside, feeling the smooth flesh flatten still more as she rolled the cradle of her hips back and forth across the silky mounds. Her hands came up, around Willow's ribs, and cupped the witch's tiny tits. The redhead's nipples were plump and firm, like berries, and the satin-smooth areolas were puffy. Willow's cunt was wet, too. Her juices trickled down her perineum, anointing Buffy's thighs. Willow was aroused, to put it mildly. She really wanted Buffy's cock in her ass, whether as a result of a secret spell that Baphomet had cast or because of a wantonness that the witch had successfully concealed from her closest friends since her earliest days. Either way, Willow wanted it bad; she was horny as hell.

Baphomet positioned himself behind the Slayer. Crouching, he inserted the tip of his monstrous cock between the silken cheeks of Buffy's buttocks, relishing the feel of the soft flesh as the inward-curving slopes slid past his thick, rigid prick. Buffy started, gasping. She'd been so caught up in her reveries that she'd forgotten the devil's presence. She hadn't expected him to join Willow and her. She'd thought that he was more interested in watching as he stroked his erection than he was in forming a threesome. She struggled, trying to wrest her own prick from Willow's ass and prevent the devil from impaling her on his. Her resistance was futile. Although she was stronger than any ten men, he also had supernatural strength, and he was more than twice her size. With a single shove forward of his hips, he drove his prick through Buffy's anus and deep into her rectum, skewering her on his cock the way she had skewered Willow on her own penis. Although she'd been broken in, so to speak, by the demon who had earlier sodomized her, Baphomet's cock was huge, even in comparison with the prodigious member of his minion. The demon's cock had seemed far too big for Buffy to accommodate, and it had caused her both discomfort and pain. Baphomet's organ was over twice as large—the size of the thick end of a baseball bat. Willow's pussy had been barely able to house the monster-cock. Buffy's anus was way too small. She could feel the muscle tear as he'd rammed his penis past her sphincter. Blood trickled down the cleavage of her ass, onto her perineum and labia, before splattering the stone floor. Buffy shrieked, unable to repress the anguish and terror that gripped her when the huge prick spread her asshole to many times its normal size. In response to her scream, Baphomet jostled his hips hard against her flattened buttocks, jiggling the immense member inside her rectum.

"Buffy!" Willow cried. "Are you all right?"

"He's ripping me apart!" the Slayer cried, tears coursing own her cheeks.

"Submit to me, and you will be fine," Baphomet said. "Surrender your will, and your asshole will relax; accept me, and your bowels will admit me. "

The horror of surrendering herself to the devil was unthinkable—but Buffy couldn't bear the pain, nor did she want to risk being ripped and torn apart by Baphomet's huge, hard dick.

"All right," she surrendered. "I submit. "

"Relax your asshole," the devil instructed her. "If you have truly surrendered to me, your sphincter will admit me. "

"You're too big!"

"Not if you submit. "

Buffy wept, hot tears streaming down her face. She focused on her asshole, willing it to relax, to accept the devil's member, to admit him to her innermost depths. Surprisingly, it worked: her sphincter loosened. Her asshole stretched, opening. The devil pumped his cock back and forth inside the snug ring of muscle to show the Slayer that he could fuck her without destroying her. "See?" he asked. "Accept me, and your ass will admit me. Now, fuck the witch—and I will fuck you. You will know what it is like, both to impale and to be impaled, to be the servant and the master. "

"Sex isn't about power," Buffy declared. "It's about love. "

Baphomet's harsh, cruel laughter filled the stone chamber. "Love," he repeated, as if it were the punch line to a particularly funny joke. "Ask Baubo, my former consort, about love!" He drew back his hips, pulling a foot of his massive member back through Buffy's gaping anus, and slammed it back into her rectum, the force of his lunge driving Buffy forward, into Willow's ass. The witch cried out, not having expected Buffy to begin her assault with such violence.

Each time that the devil momentarily withdrew his cock, the prodigious penis dragged against the walls of Buffy's rectum, creating an uncomfortable, frightening sensation, as if it would turn her entrails inside out. Then, crashing again into Buffy's bottom and flattening her buttocks before his heaving hips, the penis slammed home, cramming her ass anew with its rigid, thick length. Her asshole, stretched though it was, felt as if it would burst. Being stuffed full of cock and fucked hard and fast in the ass made Buffy think that the devil possessed her, body and soul. Willow, Buffy knew, was experiencing similar sensations, on a smaller scale, for what Baphomet was doing to her, she was doing to Willow.

The Slayer looked at the witch's ass. It was beautiful, she thought. Round and smooth and creamy white, each buttock seemed a half moon. Willow's impaled anus showed within the deep cleavage between the silken globes, its rim riding the stiff cylinder of Buffy's cock as she plunged it into the witch's ass before withdrawing most of its thick, hard length so she could drive it home again. The witch's wide-stretched asshole indented before each advance of Buffy's member and puckered around it as it retreated. Buffy's cock vanished and reappeared inside the redhead's cloven bottom, just as, the Slayer knew, Baphomet's much longer, thicker, and stiffer prick disappeared and reappeared between her own buttocks. The rider was also the ridden; what happened to Willow, happened to her. As much as she was the passive partner, she was also the active, the receiver as well as the giver. The knowledge that she was the cause, in Willow, of the same discomfort and mastery for which Baphomet was the cause with regard to her was exciting. Buffy fucked her best friend's ass with more force and vigor. Feeling the increased tempo of the Slayer's lunges, Baphomet also quickened the already-frantic cadence of his fucking.

On one retreat, Buffy withdrew entirely, rather than being careful to make sure that the tip, at least, of her cock remained sheathed in Willow's anus, and she saw the gaping hole that the witch's asshole had become before the relentless, hard battering of her cock. The inner curves of the redhead's buttocks, around the anus, resembled a crater at the bottom of which was the yawning opening of her asshole. Buffy saw that she could actually see inside the pink, smooth-walled tunnel. What would her own asshole look like, stretched to many times the size of Willow's? she wondered. Quickly, she slipped her cock back down the crater, into Willow's asshole, and resumed fucking her, fast and hard, as she was being fucked.

Feeling her prick slide through the smooth, circular ring of Willow's snug asshole was only part of the thrill in butt fucking her, Buffy thought. Equally enjoyable was the feel of the soft, smooth butt-pillows sliding past her cock as she shoved it through the witch's asshole and jerked it back; the flattening of Willow's firm cheeks before each forward thrust of her pelvis; the feeling of her friend's sleek buttocks against her own downy pubes; and the firm-soft, insistent collisions of her balls against the lower halves of the redhead's derriere. Then, too, there was the psychological exhilaration of knowing that she, Buffy, occupied another woman's bowels, fucking her in what was usually regarded as a shameful, secret place. Butt fucking was trespass, invasion, mastery, even when the person who was being fucked consented, because it was a violation of one's most basic privacy. The physical feelings, the sexual sensations, and the emotions—the feelings of power and might—it was all thrilling. Sex wasn't about love; it was about power!

Sandwiched between the powerful Baphomet and the passive Willow, Buffy was both the aggressor and the victim, both the predator and the prey, and Baphomet thought the same way as Buffy felt with regard to Willow. To him, Buffy was the powerless, passive, and receptive partner, the servant, whose ass he mastered, using it as a mere object, as a means of asserting his supremacy while satisfying his lusts. Mostly, to him, she was just a pair of buttocks, a gaping asshole, and a tunnel of flesh in which to pump his cock to the point of ejaculation, just as Willow was to Buffy. If sex was about power, rather than love, it was also a dehumanizing affair, for it denied the recipient the honor and respect of personhood, reducing her to a sex object, to an asshole to be fucked. This, too, was wildly exciting, Buffy felt, and she slammed her cock into Willow's ass with renewed vigor, hammering the witch's tight, firm bottom with her soft, blonde pubes.

An insistent, rising tide of pleasure had been building in Buffy's groin, like a torrent of waters pressing against a dam. Her balls were high in the tight, constricted bag of her scrotum, aching for release. Her thighs shuddered, and her cock lurched and strained inside Willow's ass. Buffy closed her eyes tightly, gasping. She'd reached the point of no return, where pleasure became orgasm, and the intense, tingling-tickling sensation rushing through her brought her beyond the brink of ecstasy. She moaned, jerking her cock free of Willow's widespread asshole, and watched as jet after jet of warm, thick, viscid, white semen spurted from her volcano-cock, spraying Willow's back and ass cheeks. Once, Buffy had thought of a man's ejaculate as a mess; now, she considered the fountain of her own seed to be a glorious celebration, a scattering of melted pearls, opalescent and beautiful, with which she had adorned her friend's bottom.

No, she hadn't so much decorated Willow's ass as she had branded it, Buffy thought. By spilling her seed over the witch's buttocks, she'd marked it as her own property as surely as if she'd staked a claim. Her semen established her possession and ownership of Willow as much as if it were an identifying mark that had been seared into the witch's flesh.

Spent and exhausted, Buffy fell over Willow, her belly lying against the witch's sperm-smeared buttocks, her breasts resting upon the redhead's semen-spewed back. Her heart beat furiously, as she gasped, laboring for breath. Sweat poured from her pores, creating a thin film that seemed to cement her to her vanquished lover. "Willow," she said softly, into the witch's ear, "I'm sorry. "

"Sorry?" Willow sounded genuinely puzzled. "For what?"

"Our relationship shouldn't have involved sex," the Slayer said, "but, if sex was to have been part of our friendship, it should have been as a result of love, not as a consequence to a quest for power. "

"I'm glad to have had you on any terms," Willow replied.

"I know," Buffy replied, a note of deep and eternal sorrow in her tone.

Buffy might have finished fucking Willow, but Baphomet had not finished fucking the Slayer. He continued to lunge and plunge his monster-cock back and forth within the snug circle of her gaping asshole. His prick drove into her with greater intensity and force, rocking Buffy's body against Willow's frame. He was crouched above Buffy, rather than kneeling. This crouching position would have become uncomfortable and exhausting to most men after a few minutes, but, of course, Baphomet was not a man. He was a devil of rare stature, strength, and stamina, much stronger even than Buffy. He flexed his powerful thighs, jabbing his cock into the Slayer's asshole with short, quick strokes. Although, in his present position, he couldn't see what he was doing, Baphomet knew, from having witnessed hundreds of his minions fuck women and she-devils in this same fashion, what he would be seeing if he could observe himself in action. His cock, thrusting between the lower halves of Buffy's smooth ass cheeks, would vanish and reappear quickly while, above, his balls, high in their taut scrotum, pressed firmly into her cleavage. Beneath the stretch of Buffy's perineum, Buffy's balls would form a tight clump, below which her erection would extend, rigid and swollen, to flop and sway, like her downward-pointing breasts. Baphomet loved the sight of a hermaphrodite, a transsexual, or a man being fucked from behind—to him, nothing was sexier—or more degrading.

He was enjoying taking Buffy in this manner, but, although he had debased and humiliated her, he had not yet broken her spirit. Although she had come to doubt herself and her friends, experiencing a loss of self-respect and self-esteem as well as a confusing welter of emotions—fear, guilt, humiliation, shame, and others—the Slayer maintained faith, hope, and, yes, charity. She'd been besmirched, but she hadn't been broken. Not yet, at least. She'd come to believe that sex was associated more with power than with love, but she had not yet renounced love, which, of course, would be the same as renouncing God. Until that happened, Buffy remained the victor.

He would break her, though, Baphomet had no doubt. He'd had centuries of practice, breaking men, women, and everything in between. He'd all but broken Willow, and would have in another day or two, had Buffy not arrived. Now, he'd have the consolation of breaking them both and of having two, rather than one, new consort.

The contemporary confusion about something as basic as one's gender had served Baphomet well, so much so that he had transformed himself to reflect such uncertainty, developing womanly breasts to contrast with his bearded goat's face, otherwise manly physique, and gigantic cock and balls. When men wanted to be women, women wanted to be men, and both sexes took loves of either sex, it was a simple, although enjoyable, matter to twist and pervert and mislead them. Willow's lesbianism made her easy prey, but the Slayer was much hardier, probably because she'd never relinquished her claim on heterosexuality despite having been transformed by the Feral demon's bite into a hermaphrodite and despite her having been forced to have sex with other females, with males, and with fellow hermaphroditic creatures, including Baphomet himself. Whenever a man or a woman denied the gender that fit his or her sex, there was opportunity for demons and devils to encourage self-doubt and hatred, fear, guilt, shame, and a host of other negative and destructive emotions. Sex really was about power, rather than love—or, at least, it could be, with a little encouragement on Baphomet's part. He smirked, thinking, Humans really are their own worst enemies.

The devil's clawed hands pulled at Buffy's hips, drawing the Slayer away from Willow. Without withdrawing his prick from Buffy's asshole, he sat down on the hard, cold stone floor, pulling her atop him, so that she sat in his lap, as Willow had, but with his cock up her ass instead of her cunt.

Buffy's cock, still hard despite the terrific orgasm she'd had while spewing a copious volume of semen over Willow's back, buttocks, and thighs, jutted from her downy groin, above the tight package of her balls. It flopped up and down rapidly as Baphomet jabbed his prick into Buffy's rectum. As he increased the rhythm of his strokes, Buffy's erection flopped more wildly, her glans smacking against the devil's scrotum, as if it were spanking his big balls. Baphomet fucked her even more quickly—and brutally—and the Slayer's prick began to revolve, spinning in slow, wide circles, like a propeller starting to spin.

As the devil continued to fuck her, he placed one hand upon her right breast, tweaking and pinching her nipple until Buffy cried out in pain. He made a fist around the Slayer's erect cock with his other hand, masturbating her. By playing with her breast and her cock at the same time that he was fucking her in the ass and her cunt was streaming with her juices, he'd be highlighting the incongruity of her hermaphroditic state and further stirring up confusing thoughts and emotions about her gender, her sexual identity, and her sexual preference, which would help to convince her to forsake love and embrace power. After she made sex a means of conquest, rather than an expression of love, she'd succumb to the feelings of worthlessness, shame, fear, guilt, and despair that so many of today's young people, male, female, and otherwise, experienced, and Baphomet would thus secure for himself two replacements for his deposed consort. Thereafter, he could enjoy their debasement forever. While he toyed with Buffy's breast and male genitals, ignoring her cunt, he whispered to her.

"Bitch! Slut! Whore!" He squeezed Buffy's breast, his claws making deep indentations in their smooth, creamy flesh. Drops of blood welled from the puncture marks. "Freak who would be neither male nor female!" His fist tightened like a vise on Buffy's cock and balls, squeezing until she whimpered. "You liked butt fucking another woman, didn't you? You loved shoving your cock up the witch's asshole. "

"No," Buffy protested.

"Liar!" Baphomet rammed his cock deep into Buffy's ass. "You slut! You will fuck men, women, animals, plants—anything! You're nothing, nothing but a fucking whore!"

"No, I—please—"

"Shut your cock-sucking mouth, bitch! For you, sex is power, not love. You used your so-called best friend to satisfy your perverted sexual lust and your sick, twisted need to dominate and control others. You're just like me—exactly like me—but you're too dishonest to admit it. Why do you think I chose you—and the bitch-witch—to be my consorts? You're just like me, that's why, right down to your tits, cock, and balls. "

Buffy sobbed. Tears streamed down her face, falling onto her bosom, her belly, her thighs. The devil's words hurt worse than the lash of a whip, mostly because Buffy didn't know—not for certain—whether there was truth in them or not. She did have male and female genitals, but not because she'd been born with them or had had them added through hormone therapy and surgery, but because a Feral demon had bitten her while she was on patrol, protecting and defending her community from the threats of vampires and demons. Wasn't her work as the Slayer an expression of love? Or was it, too, nothing more than an excuse to practice violence and mayhem? The police had once told her mother that Buffy had a "history of violence. " Even Willow and her other friends had suggested the same thing. She'd also had sex with both men and women—and hermaphrodites—but she had been forced to do so. She hadn't enjoyed lesbian sex. She'd done it with Anya and Willow and the transsexual demon because she'd had to do so. Hadn't she? She remembered how she'd thought Willow's buttocks to be beautiful, and she recalled how she'd enjoyed fucking her, dominating her. She'd also enjoyed being butt fucked by her mentor and father figure, Rupert Giles. Wasn't that the same as incest? True, she'd had to do that, too, to gain entrance to this demon dimension and rescue Willow. But was rescuing her friend a sufficient reason for letting what amounted to her own father fuck her in her ass? Rescue Willow! What a laugh! If anything, she'd made a prisoner of herself, giving Baphomet two captives instead of one—and two consorts, it seemed. Secretly, she had to admit that she liked the devil's cock in her ass; it filled her more completely than she'd ever been filled, and he was stronger, more virile, and more masculine (despite his tits) than Angel, Spike, Parker, Riley, Xander, or any other man, including Giles, with whom she'd had sex. Maybe she really was a bitch, a slut, and a whore, as Baphomet insisted.

"I know what you are," the devil whispered, "for I tested you. It was I, not the vengeance demon, who transported the witch to my domain. I secured Anya's pretense as the one who had arranged the witch's capture in order to snare you, knowing that you are her best friend and would risk your life to save her—not that you have the slightest chance, of course, of doing so. "

Buffy was shocked. "Anya didn't send Willow here?"

"She was nothing more than you—my victim. I made her tell you all the things she told you, on pain of being vivisected—dissected alive—should she refuse. I am the true adversary, not her. When you arrived, I sent my minions to test you. The meadowlands demon, the cavern-cunt, and the phallic plants are all my spawn, as are the demons who dwell here, in my palace, with me. You resisted them all—at first—but, finally, you embraced them, in your heart and your soul, if not openly, and you began to doubt; you began to waver. You began to enjoy being both the predator and the prey, seeking both death and power in the act of sex which was, of course, always suitably perverted. Now, you know the truth: sex, like life itself, is about power, not love. "

Willow sat up, looking across the stone floor at the Slayer. "Don't listen to him, Buffy. You're not a slut. You're not a whore. You're the Slayer. "

A quake shook the palace. The throne jiggled atop its skulls. A crack opened in one of the walls.

"Silence, bitch!" Baphomet screamed.

"You're good, and you're kind. You're compassionate and loving and caring. You're strong and protective and courageous. "

The crack in the wall deepened and lengthened. Another appeared, and another. There was a loud crumbling sound.

"Shut your cock hole, witch!" Baphomet thundered.

Part of the throne room's ceiling caved in. The frigid air of the arctic mountains rushed into the chamber. Another quake jolted the building.

Willow stared at the devil. "I don't do cocks," she said. She looked again at Buffy, into her eyes. "You're also beautiful and sexy as hell—and good in bed—very good!"

"Don't listen to her!" Baphomet shouted at Buffy. "You are a whore, a slut, a bitch, without modesty or morals—"

The left wall crumbled, falling, and a deep fissure appeared in the floor. Stones loosened, falling into the black abyss below the palace.

Buffy winked at Willow. "No," she told the devil, "I'm Buffy the vampire slayer—or, in your case, since you're a freaky hermaphroditic freak, a shemale vampire slayer. "

Before he could react, Buffy shoved herself off his lap, jerking away from the huge cock that had impaled her buttocks. His semen trailed between her anus and the tip of his sperm-smeared cock.

One of the skulls holding up the throne collapsed into dust, and the great chair toppled. Another crack opened in the ceiling, and more stones rained down from above. Baphomet, seated in a pool of spilled semen, paled.

"This place—it's all a lie," Buffy declared.

"It's something he created," Willow said. "It's foundation is doubt and fear, and its stones and timbers are guilt, shame, humiliation, and despair. "

"Like the statues in the alcoves in the portico, the ones showing couples—uh—coupling—the ones he called Initiation, Humiliation, and Travesty. "

"What about them?" Willow asked.

A deep rumbling sounded, coming, it seemed, from below the palace. It grew louder and louder. The throne room, like the palace itself, shuddered. The whole edifice seemed about to collapse, Buffy thought. They had to get out of here fast.

"They were clues, but I didn't know it at the time I saw them. He built this place—imagined it into existence, I guess we could say—based on the destructive emotions people have as a result of confusing, first-time, same-sex experiences and the humiliation, hopelessness, and despair that gays, lesbians, bisexual, and transgendered people sometimes experience in a world that derides, insults, abuses, and even kills them just because they're different. "

Buffy thought of Xander and his fear of having his bisexuality discovered by those whom he loved. He was afraid that Giles and even Willow, whom he'd known since kindergarten and who was gay herself, might no longer care for him if he came out of the closet. He'd looked sick after Buffy had learned the truth about his sexual identity, and he'd begged her not to tell anyone else. Buffy had tried to console him, offering him what she had, a few minutes ago, in the throes of one of Baphomet's spells, it seemed, regarded as mere platitudes and clichés but now recognized as truths. She'd told him that his being bisexual didn't matter, that it changed nothing between them, and that there was no shame or need for shame in being who one was. She'd reminded him that everyone, including Xander himself, had continued to love Willow after she'd come out as a lesbian. It would be no different for him, but she'd honor his request and not divulge his secret to anyone else if that was what he wanted.

After having been transformed into a hermaphrodite as a result of having been bitten by the Feral demon, Buffy herself had come to think of herself as a freak of nature, as a bitch, a slut, and a whore. Now, she knew that she was none of these things. She was, as Willow, had reminded her, good, kind, compassionate, loving, caring, strong, protective, and courageous. Most of all, she was a vampire Slayer. But she was an equal opportunity Slayer; she'd just as gladly kill a demon or a devil like Baphomet.

The building shook, and great sections of walls, floors, ceilings, stairs, and buttresses split, crumbled, and fell.

Baphomet tried to rise, but he seemed weaker. He struggled to his knees, hacking and wheezing. He stood, but swayed. "Slut. " Saying this one-syllable word seemed to take all his strength and stamina. He paused, gasping. "Whore. " Again, uttering the word seemed to have exhausted him. He weaved and wobbled. "Bitch. " He took a tottering step toward Buffy, and the Slayer drove the heel of her hand into his nose, shoving its cartilage through his brain. The hulking figure dropped to the floor and lay motionless.

"Is he dead?" Willow asked.

Buffy prodded the body with her toe. "He's dead. "

The three-dimensional, transparent figure of Willow that had transported Buffy to Baphomet's palace appeared between them, extending a hand to each.

"Then, let's go home," Willow suggested. "Take her hand. "

Buffy and Willow each took one of the transparent Willow's hands into their own, and Buffy heard the same rushing sound as she'd heard the first time she'd held hands with the all-but-invisible Willow. The crumbling ruins of Baphomet's palace vanished; an instant later, Willow and Buffy stood naked, awash in demon semen, bruised, and lacerated, in Willow's motel room. The transparent Willow was gone. Buffy asked the witch about her see-through likeness.

"That's my astral body," the witch explained.

"How do you—"

"I'd explain, but it would take about five years. Let's just say it's something that Tara and I were working on when she—" tears gathered in Willow's eyes as she recalled the spray of her lover's blood that resulted from the gunshot wound that Warren, the coward, had delivered from afar, thinking he was shooting Buffy.

Buffy kissed her friend, chastely, on the cheek. "I'm sorry, Will. "

The witch sniffled. "Me, too, Buff. "

There was an awkward pause between them, and then Willow asked, "What do we do now? Kill Anya?"

Buffy looked at her nakedness. She frowned at a gob of the colored semen she wiped from her face. "Take a shower. Then, get dressed. Do you have some clothes I could borrow?"

Willow frowned, pouting. "I guess, but I'd rather see you naked. "

Buffy rolled her eyes, offering her friend a smile. "Say, Will—can you do a spell that would make everyone forget what happened during the past couple of days?"

Willow shrugged. "Sure, I guess. Who's 'everyone'?"

"Well. . . you, me, Anya, Giles, Xander—"

"Xander! He knows?"

"Not about you and me—not about, you know, us—but, well, he—"

"Never mind! I don't want to know. I'll just put him on the list. But, Buffy—don't you want to remember?"

"No. Do you?"

The witch smiled, remembering Buffy's cock up her ass, fucking her brutally. "Maybe some parts," she confessed.

"As long as I don't remember and you don't remind me," the Slayer stipulated.

"Deal. "

 

Later, as Buffy was lathering her cock and balls, they disappeared. In an instant, they were gone, as if they'd never existed. Buffy was immensely relieved—but, she found, she was also a bit disappointed and a little saddened by the loss.

 

The next day, Buffy awakened, minus her male parts and unable to remember anything that had happened during the last forty eight hours. She didn't remember anything about Willow, Anya, Xander, Giles, the demon dimension and its inhabitants, Baphomet, her having had a cock and balls, the Feral demon, or anything else.

If she had been able to remember, she would have known that Buffy the shemale vampire killer could make an unannounced reappearance at any time, in any place, for the side-effects of the Feral demon's bite, which had resulted in her acquiring male genitals overnight, could recur just as quickly and unexpectedly as they had occurred the first time.

  

  

  

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