Prompt: 62. Wet
Word count: 1200
Table: Complete smut_69 prompt table
Notes: BDSM kink. A Blackmail!verse story.
Giles could not turn away from her, could not look anywhere else. His Slayer was glorious in the nude. She probably worried that she was too muscled to be attractive, too obviously powerful. But Giles was drawn to that power, those muscles. He loved the sight of the hot water from the shower running down her lats and deltoids, the suds from his cocoa-vanilla soap melting away. He lathered her back again and set the soap on the dish. He ran his thumbs up along her spine. Buffy relaxed under him, with a soft exhalation of breath.
"Don't stop," she said.
"Mmm. You're very tight. And you've lost definition. Have you been training at all?"
"I do my step aerobics. And I've been doing some boxing with Riley and his buddies."
Giles grunted and worked his thumbs across her shoulders, using his full strength. Buffy was more than up to it. "You'll train with me, and only with me. We'll discuss exceptions for specialty skills as needed. I'll give you a workout plan."
"You mean, no more doing stuff with the Initiative?"
"No. Nothing. I don't want you so much as sparring with them."
"Why not? Riley likes it--"
"Because you will learn bad habits fighting humans. Because I doubt very much they use the weapons you'll need for demons. And because I forbid it, and you agreed to submit to my authority as your Watcher."
"Aha. The Watcher makes his demands."
"Just so. Trust me, Buffy."
"I do. I'll break the news to Riley. God, I missed this. You're so good at it."
He'd missed this too, this gentle contact with his Slayer. He used to massage her routinely after workouts, and sometimes when she felt more stressed than usual. But she'd been avoiding his touch entirely since he'd been fired. Since that thrice-damned Cruciamentum, and his ritual betrayal. No more. His loyalties were clear. He felt a little thrill of arousal shivering through him.
Giles reached for the shampoo and lathered up her hair. He massaged her scalp gently. She turned to rinse, throwing her head back under the spray. Her throat was magnificent; she was magnificent; she was his mistress; she was his Slayer again. He braced a hand on the wall of the shower, suddenly overcome with emotion.
He went to his knees before her, a trifle awkwardly in the little tub, and soaped her feet. He worked his way up to her knees, then paused. "May I touch you, my Slayer?" he said, looking up.
Buffy smiled down at him. "Go ahead."
Giles washed his way up her body, taking care not to touch her sex without invitation. They hadn't discussed that sort of submission, but he enjoyed it. And she seemed to appreciate it. So he would indulge himself, and not take liberties. Then she lifted a foot and rested it on the edge of the tub, giving him a clear view of her sex. And access. She meant it as an invitation, so he leaned in to worship her with his mouth again. He tasted soap and water and musk, the taste of her arousal slowly gaining ascendance as he licked and sucked. Her fingers gripped his hair, and he felt her shudder against him.
"You're good at that, too," she said, with an unsteady voice.
Giles smiled, and kissed her thighs. She tugged at his hair and pulled him to his feet.
"My turn," she said, and took the soap. "Turn around."
Giles braced himself against the wall and spread his legs as far as he could in the tub. She washed his backside and thighs. He felt her fingers moving on his welts again, pressing. He was sore, more sore than he'd realized earlier. Then her fingers moved to his arse. She'd played with him there only a little last night. Giles arched his back, hoping to entice her into playing more. And she gratified his wish immediately, sliding a soapy finger into him. She moved it slowly, exploring him. He sighed.
"You like this."
"You like being plugged?"
"Being taken by other men?"
Giles shook his head. "Not so much. For me... for me it's submission. And other men submit to me."
"I'd like to see that."
Giles opened his mouth to answer, but she chose that moment to push a second finger into him and he was unable.
"When's the last time someone took you this way?"
Her fingers found what she'd been seeking, and Giles gasped. "Oh. I-- Jenny. Two years now. God."
"When's the last time you were with another man?"
He could barely think, with her fingers caressing him like that. "Y-years. Before I came to the States. Six years? Longer. God, that feels so good, Buffy, please--"
"Hold still. Don't come unless I tell you you may."
A third finger, opening him further than he'd been opened in years. Giles leaned his head against his arms, angling himself so that his cock could not brush against the wall. Despite Buffy's warning he was in no danger of coming, not so soon after coming earlier, but he could enjoy it. And enjoy it he would. He gave himself over to the feeling of her fingers inside him, sliding in and out, claiming him. She had a hand on his hip, bracing herself.
"What's the most intense thing Jenny did to your ass?"
Giles shook himself and attempted to put his attention on her question instead of on those fingers. "She, ah. Oh, right. Made me wear a plug and the metal cock ring and sent me to school. I couldn't think about anything else all day. Had a raging erection. Had to hide in my office. You, ah, you told me I looked like I was coming down with something and should go home."
Buffy giggled. "Did you guys do that often?"
"I wore the cock ring many times, but not the plug. That night I requested that she not, because it interfered with training you. Then she, um, she whipped me for reminding her that she wasn't first in my life."
She'd understood, Jenny had, and yielded to necessity, but she'd also hated it. There had been a piece of Rupert Giles that had always faced away from her, pointing unerringly toward the true north of his life. And it hadn't been much later that he'd been forced to make it clear to everyone who had his loyalty.
"Poor baby. Fortunately, no conflicts of interest with your new mistress."
Her fingers were gone, and then she slapped him, hard, twice. He gasped from surprise, then groaned as the pain flooded through him a moment later. He held himself as still as he could, waiting for more. But apparently that was all she wanted, because next he felt the soap bar gliding over his bruised thighs. She washed his backside thoroughly, then turned him around to wash his front. She paid careful attention to his entire body. Inspecting him, satisfying her curiosity, he didn't know what. He was entirely hers now. She'd always owned his heart and mind, and now she owned his body as well. His loyalties and desires were at last one.
When she had satisfied herself, she wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against him. Giles held his pole star tight.
Continued in "Tactics".