TITLE    : Baubo Ch. 03
STORYID  : baubo-ch-03
SUMMARY  : Baubo escapes, wandering the streets of Sunnydale.
AUTHOR   : Cal Y. Pygia@lit
DATE     : 2005-09-27
CATEGORY : celebrity-stories
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |baubo|buffy|willow|slayer|giles|anya|xander|fuck|anal|cunt|


<i>Note: Baubo is introduced in my series, "Buffy the Shemale Vampire Slayer." For those who may have missed this series (which is highly recommended), let me describe Baubo, for she is a most unusual individual. She consists of a pair of legs and a belly with a face. Her wide eyes are outlined in dark mascara, to make them stand out, and she has a pert nose above full, sensuous lips. The cleft in her chin is actually the opening to her vagina, since her chin is the same as her groin. Baubo has no arms, shoulders, neck, or head. Instead, her belly closes in a domed skull out of the scalp of which grows long, lush, curly tresses. According to Barbara G. Walker's fascinating book, The Woman's Dictionary of Symbols and Sacred Objects, Baubo was a clown who made the goddess Demeter laugh at her lewd jokes during Demeter's fertility rites. In "Buffy the Shemale Vampire Slayer," Baubo is Baphomet's former consort, whom he had deposed in favor of making Willow Rosenberg and Buffy Summers his new companions. Baubo is such an unusual and, to my mind, at least, sexy character that she deserves her own series of erotic adventures. I start hers by recounting her experience with Buffy the Shemale Vampire Slayer, whom Baphomet brought to his demon dimension after Buffy had been transformed into a hermaphrodite as a result of having been bitten by a Feral demon. Buffy was being fucked in the cunt and the ass by a demon with a double-pronged penis when Baubo joined them to suck the Slayer's cock. . . .</i>



*



Buffy Summers and Willow Rosenberg materialized in Willow's motel room. The great rushing sound they'd heard when the witch's transportation spell had caught them up, whisking them across the boundary between their dimension and that of the devil Baphomet, after Buffy had managed, finally, to kill the fiend, calmed, and all was silent but for the drum of blood in their veins and the beating of their hearts, which the Slayer, with her superhuman hearing, could discern. It was always a rush to be snatched across the bending curves of the space-time continuum, as their rapid pulses and accelerated heartbeats testified. After being stranded in Baphomet's fortress-palace, it was more than good to be home again; it was fabulous! Well, Buffy corrected herself, she wasn't home, not quite, but she was, at least, back in Sunnydale, her hometown, which was situated upon one of the several gateways to hell. She'd never have suspected, even in her wildest nightmares, that she'd ever be glad to be back on the Hellmouth, but, she had to admit, being in Sunnydale was way better than being in Baphomet's dimension of the damned.



Buffy glanced at her friend. Like Buffy herself, Willow was naked. The witch's nipples stood upright, stiff and swollen, from her small breasts, surrounded by puffy areolas. Buffy examined her own nipples. They, too, were erect. Her cock was also stiff, but she'd borne a constant erection since shortly after acquiring her male genitals as a result of the Feral demon's bite she'd received yesterday--had it been only yesterday? It seemed as if years had passed since that fateful combat had occurred. Because of the perpetual state of her cock's arousal, Buffy couldn't tell by it, but her swollen nipples, like Willow's--and the tingly sensation within her moist cunt and the stiffness of her clitoris--were trustworthy evidence of her excitement. Being ripped across the universe in an instant was damned exciting, no doubt about it.



Something dripped from Buffy's face, splattering upon her breasts--a green glob of thick, viscid fluid--the semen from one of the four demons who'd taken turns ejaculating their foul seed in her face, making her Buffy the Bukkake Babe. She frowned, disgusted by the rank fluid. Not only did it look tainted, but the seed also reeked. She had to get the filthy fluid off her at once.



The transparent Willow--the witch's astral body--that had brought them here had vanished, leaving the two time-space travelers alone in Willow's motel room.



Buffy asked the witch about her see-through likeness. "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?"



Anya, the vengeance demon, had dispatched Willow to Baphomet's demon dimension. At first, they'd believed Anya's account as to why she'd done so--to get revenge on their friend, Xander, who'd jilted Anya--but Baphomet had explained that he'd used Anya as his pawn, threatening to dissect the vengeance demon alive if she didn't deliver Willow into his hands so that he could make the witch his consort and lure the Slayer to his domain, making Buffy his second paramour. Under the circumstances, Buffy thought it best not to kill the vengeance demon, although she'd wanted to do so badly enough before Baphomet's confession.



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, when Baphomet had commanded the Slayer to fuck her brutally. "Maybe some parts," she confessed. 



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



"Deal."



Borrowing a towel from Willow, Buffy stepped into the witch's bathroom.



"Call me if you need any help," Willow quipped, eyeing her friend lasciviously.



Buffy smiled, shaking her head. "I think I can manage," she replied, "but thanks." She closed the bathroom door, hung the towel on a nearby hook, opened the door to the shower stall, and stepped inside. She turned the water on, made sure it was the temperature she liked, and stepped under the steaming spray. The hot water felt good, although it stung her bruised and lacerated body. The demon semen in her hair, on her face, and on her breasts washed away. Already, having been in the shower only seconds, she felt clean again, physically if not yet emotionally.



She closed her eyes, enjoying the hot water that sluiced over her bare flesh. She scrubbed her shoulders, her arms, her breasts, her tummy. Lather washed over her wet, shining curves. She felt the water run through her downy blonde pubic hair, parting at the junctures of her cock and groin to trickle over her scrotum and down her smooth inner thighs. The water continued to shower down upon her, hot and sensuous, splashing the nape of her neck, her shoulder blades, and back. The water cascaded over her round, sleek buttocks and ran down the backs of her thighs and calves.



Buffy's eyes snapped open. Hands cupped her breasts, squeezing them gently. "What the hell?"



"Relax, Buffy," Willow said. "It's me." The witch's hands rubbed the soap-slick spheres of the Slayer's breasts.



Buffy seized Willow's hands in her own, drawing them away from her boobs. "What are you doing in my shower?" she demanded. "And how did you get in here without me hearing you?"



"Technically, it's my shower," Willow reminded her. "And I teleported here. I thought you might want someone to wash your back for you."



"It's not my back you were, uh, washing."



"Give me time."



"Out!"



Willow frowned. "Oh, all right, Little Miss Spoil-My-Fun."



"You're Gay Girl; I'm straight, remember?"



"You didn't seem too straight when you were--"



"I didn't have a choice."



"We always have a choice, Buffy."



"Okay. I chose to save your ass; to do so, I had to fuck it. That doesn't make me gay."



Willow grinned. "It's a start."



Buffy turned to face her friend, but Willow was looking at Buffy's boobs, not her face. "No, it isn't, Will. It's not a start. It's not even a beginning. Now, please."



Willow sighed. "You can't blame a girl for trying, right?"



"Wait for me--in your living room."



Willow smiled, thinking of the tiny size of her motel room. "I have a living room?" she quipped.



Before the question was completed, the witch vanished, reminding Buffy of a line in The Wizard of Oz. Dorothy had said something like, "My goodness! People come and go so quickly here." Willow sure did, Buffy thought. Well, now that her friend had popped out, Buffy could finish her shower in private, at least. She added soap to her washcloth and bathed her genitals, male and female, scrubbing her still-stiff, standing cock and the labia behind her scrotum. Again, she was amazed at having a cock and balls of her own. They still seemed bizarre, but not nearly as preposterous as they had when she'd acquired them yesterday. They'd been part of her for over twenty-four hours, and she'd gotten used to them--well, not really used to them; she'd never really get used to them, not if they remained part of her anatomy forever. It was weird for her, a young woman, to have male genitals. It was freaky--way freaky. It was kind of sexy, too, though, she thought. She actually liked having her own cock and balls. She enjoyed the way her penis stood, stiff and swollen, upright against her sleek tummy, and the way her testicles had risen inside the taut, risen bag of her scrotum. It made her feel--well, manly. Feeling manly wasn't weird, the way she thought it would be; it was erotic. It was heady. It was exciting. Masturbation was really different, too. Her cock didn't get wet the way that her cunt did; instead, it seemed to gather her into herself, as if she were but an extension of its rigidity, its swollenness, its elongation. When she'd come, in her own bathroom, shortly after spouting her cock and balls, as she was experimenting with them, the sensation had been incredible! Guys were lucky. Their orgasms were intense, and ejaculation was--well, overpowering. She was glad to have experienced sex as a male. From now on, she would have a greater and deeper appreciation of them, their emotions, their sensations, and their needs.



As she gently washed her balls, they vanished, as did her cock. One moment, they were there, lathered with soap; the next moment, they were gone, as if they'd never existed. Buffy blinked, shocked. She wasn't used to genitals appearing and disappearing before her eyes. Now that they were gone, she felt let down, disappointed. She sighed, missing her male genitals. She'd gotten used to them--well, sort of. She'd come to admire and accept, even to like, them--and, now, in an instant, they were gone. It wasn't fair! It wasn't--



--a loud thump broke her reverie. Buffy tensed, eyes widening. "What was that?"



"Buffy!" Willow sounded frightened.



The Slayer jerked the shower stall door open, heedless of the water blasting from the showerhead, stepped onto the tile floor, and grabbed the towel. She wrapped it about herself, tucking a corner into the front to keep it secure.



"Buffy!" Willow cried, more loudly than before.



In the witch's living room, the sound of the wind died, and the Kekk demon, having just arrived in this strange environment from Baphomet's demon dimension, Baubo tucked under his arm, looked to his left and his right, quickly reconnoitering his new surroundings. Baubo took advantage of her captor's momentary confusion, delivering a kick to his midsection that was sufficiently powerful to break the demon's grip. She fell to the floor, landing on her side.



The demon whirled on her. "Bitch!"



Baubo struggled to rise. It wasn't easy to get up, she thought for the thousandth time, when one had no hands or arms.



A door burst open, and a young, slender blonde dressed in a towel sprang into the motel room's living area, fierce determination in her hazel eyes, the set of her jaw, and her balled fists. She scanned the room, locating Willow. The witch stood beside her broken-down couch, near a cheap coffee table, her wide eyes staring at the demon trespassers.



Buffy followed Willow's gaze. A hulking, red-skinned, purple-eyed demon glared at her. Beside the massive fiend, a curious, female version of Humpty Dumpty lay on her side, kicking her well-sculpted legs and screaming at the bigger, taller demon. The big demon bent to seize the smaller one, which was all the encouragement Buffy needed. She spun, lifting her leg high overhead, and kicked the larger demon hard in the face. It staggered, but retained its footing.



"Buffy," Willow cried, recognizing the smaller, egg-shaped demon with legs. "It's Baubo!"



"So I see," the Slayer answered.



Recovered from Buffy's roundhouse kick to its head, the Kekk demon lunged at the Slayer. Like its adversary, Buffy had lightning reflexes, and she sidestepped the fiend's charge, connecting with a blow between its shoulder blades that dropped the monster to its knees. Buffy followed with a kick to the side of its face that knocked the bastard into an end table beside Willow's couch, toppling and breaking a lamp.



"Buffy!" Willow chastised her friend. "Be careful!"



"Sorry."



The Kekk demon was down, but it wasn't out. Launching itself to its feet, it whirled, spittle flying from its fanged, open mouth. It grunted and moaned and wheezed.



"You're not much of a conversationalist," Buffy quipped.



The demon's red eyes glowed.



"That doesn't look good," Willow warned.



Baubo seemed to agree with the witch's statement. The egg-shaped demon with the shapely legs edged toward the motel room's front door. How it would manage to open the door without hands wasn't clear, but Baubo had seen the wide-eyed blonde enter this area of the witch's abode through such a portal, so she knew that the door represented a means of egress, if she could open it. Besides, it was located across the room, away from the Kekk demon--and the Slayer.



The glow in the fiend's eyes intensified; a moment later, its red skin was also glowing. It looked as if it might melt--or burst. A moment later, it did burst, its flesh exploding from its body in a shower of hideous, hot tissue the consistency of paste.



"Shield us!" Willow cried, and an invisible bubble formed around her and the Slayer. The red goop that had been the demon's epidermis popped and sizzled against the unseen barriers. Perhaps the skin contained a powerful, corrosive acid, Buffy thought. She was grateful that Willow had had the presence of mind--and the ability--to act, interposing a mystical screen between them and the demon's exploding flesh.



The glow on the demon's eyes and skin had subsided, and Buffy and Willow could see that it was unharmed. Apparently, the explosion of its outermost layer of skin had left the underlying layers--and the demon himself--unharmed.



"That's quite a skin condition," Willow remarked.



"Yeah," Buffy chimed in. "He really should see a good dermatologist."



The Kekk demon lifted its arms, extending them at shoulder level.



"What are you trying to do, now?" Buffy asked. "Kill us with your vile body odor?"



A dark, oily substance streamed down its ribcage, its waist, and its outer thighs, pouring onto the motel room's carpet. An amazing amount of the fluid gushed from what Buffy and Willow assumed were specialized glands in its armpits.



"You're really gross," Buffy told her adversary.



The Kekk demon vigorously wiped its clawed foot through the pool of black fluid in which it now stood, and a spark erupted, igniting the oily substance. In an instant, a tall wall of flame rose, flickering and wavering in the billowing smoke that filled the close confines of the tiny motel room. Buffy and Willow choked.



"Out, fire!" Willow commanded, and the flames sputtered, dying, but not before, having reached the front wall of the living room, they'd burned through the flimsy door. In the confusion, Baubo escaped into Sunnydale's streets, fleeing, naked, for her freedom and her life.



Willow looked at the damage the Kekk demon had done to her motel room. "Buffy," she pleaded, "put an end to this asshole before I have to sleep on the street."



"I'm trying," Buffy answered.



"Maybe you've done more damage to it that we thought," Willow observed, watching the demon as, having knelt on the ruined carpet, it hunched forward, retching.



"Smoke inhalation?" Buffy wondered.



Willow frowned, staring at the hole that the demon's fiery attack had burned through her front door. The smoke in the room continued to pour outdoors. "I don't think so, Buff."



A stream of vomit gushed from the Kekk demon's throat, onto the blackened carpet, and Buffy's eyes widened as she saw something moving in the foul, chunky fluid. As far as she could tell, they were small balls.



"What the hell--?" the Slayer wondered.



"I don't think we want to know," Willow predicted.



As Buffy and Willow watched, the spheres cracked open, like eggs hatching, and something wriggled within their broken fragments.



"I don't like the looks of this," Willow said.



Tiny creatures hopped out of the fractured globes. Although they were only an inch or so in height, Buffy could make out enough detail regarding their appearance to see that they, like all the monsters from Baphomet's demon dimension, were bizarre looking. They resembled bipedal insects. Standing upon two legs and equipped with wasp-like wings, they had a long, pointed proboscis, indicating, probably, that they were bloodsuckers; a segmented body consisting of elongated head, thorax, and slender, pointed abdomen; and long, narrow, ski-like feet. They also had appendages rather like miniature arms, ending in pointed pincers rather than hands. Bending their legs, they crouched, ready to spring.



"Return!" Willow cried as the strange insect-like creatures leaped toward the Slayer.



Midway to their target, the insect-demons collided with an invisible force field that, judging from the result, must have been shaped like a concave plane, with the sharply curved surface facing them, for they swooped back the way they'd come, traveling in an almost semi-circular trajectory, into the face of the Kekk demon who, moments before, had regurgitated them. Apparently, among whatever other offensive capabilities they possessed, the insect-demons were capable of stinging, for the Kekk demon danced spastically around in a small circle, swatting itself as it dodged and weaved.



Willow laughed, earning a quizzical look from Buffy. "It's funny, Buff," the witch explained.



Buffy shrugged. Then, pressing the advantage that Willow's surprise attack against the Kekk demon had given her, she threw herself forward, smashing a fist into her adversary's monstrous face and following it with rapid-fire follow-up blows. The Kekk demon's knees buckled, and it fell on its face, the stinging insect-demons continuing their attack, heedless of the Slayer. Before Buffy's and Willow's startled eyes, great, bulbous blisters rose all over the Kekk demon's body, wherever one of the insect-demons had stung it, and green-and-yellow pus flowed from a score or more of these bulges. Grimacing in disgust, Buffy nodded toward a potted plant hanging in a macramé net from a ceiling hook. "Give me that, Willow!"



The witch removed the potted plant, passing it to her friend. Buffy accepted the plant, rolling her eyes. "Not this," she clarified, "the macramé." While Willow retrieved the network of coarse, knotted strings, Buffy smashed the pot over the Kekk demon's head. Potting soil flew everywhere, along with shards of the pot and leaves and stems from the plant itself, adding to the considerable mess that Willow's motel room had become. The impact had virtually no effect on the Kekk demon, though. "Hurry," Buffy prompted Willow.

<hr pg="2" />"Here!" The witch handed Buffy the macramé, and the Slayer yanked it beneath the Kekk demon's head, pulling it tight against his throat. Crossing one end of the macramé over the other, Buffy pulled on each end with all her strength. Beneath her, the Kekk demon's eyes widened, and he struggled fiercely to topple the Slayer, thrashing violently from side to side as he wildly bucked his hips. Buffy rode him as if he were a bronco, continuing to tighten the macramé ligature around his throat. Within moments, the Kekk demon's breathing became labored, and he was in obvious distress. Buffy continued to tighten the macramé around his throat. He thrashed less forcefully, his rolling and bucking and kicking subsiding as he fought desperately for his breath. His eyes bugged, and he wheezed loudly. His movements continued to lessen as he weakened. Buffy pulled even more firmly upon the macramé hanger. The Kekk demon's face looked ghastly. Willow looked away. The wheezing grew fainter. Within moments, the Kekk demon lay still. Buffy continued to yank the macramé, making sure that her enemy was dead. The insect-things had vanished. Apparently, they had no interest in the demon's corpse, nor were they attracted to Willow or Buffy. Maybe they attacked only the person--or demon--who'd threatened them directly.



"Uh, Buff?"



The Slayer turned toward the witch.



"You can let up now; he's dead."



Buffy looked at the motionless corpse she was straddling. "Oh." She dropped the ends of the macramé ligature and rose. A moment later, the demon's body burst into a vile liquid, coating the motel room's ceiling, walls, and carpet.



Willow sighed. "Thanks, Buffy."



Buffy offered her friend a weak smile. "No problem."



"So, what do we do now?"



A man's voice replied. "You get the hell out of my motel, that's what you do!"



Buffy's eyes widened as she saw the motel manager standing on the other side of what used to be the door to Willow's room, glaring in at them through the huge hole that the Kekk demon's fire had burned through the it.



"I knew better than to rent to a party girl!"



Willow's face clouded. "A party girl?"



"Willow," Buffy cautioned, "take it easy." This was no time for a spell, the Slayer thought.



"You and your--" he looked at the towel-wrapped Buffy--"girlfriend have wrecked the place. I'm calling the cops!"



The suggestive emphasis that the manager had put on the word "girlfriend" angered Buffy. What right did this little cretin have to make judgments about her? She forced down the rising anger. "Let's go, Will," she suggested.



Willow returned the manager's glare. "Party girl?" she repeated in an even more annoyed tone. "I'll show you a party girl!"



Buffy took Willow's arm in her hand. "Come on, Willow," she said. "He's not worth it."



Willow forced herself to remain calm, allowing Buffy to escort her from the room.



"I'm calling the police," the manager said hesitantly, stepping aside, with fear in his eyes at the baleful expression that had possessed his tenant's countenance. "You'll pay for these damages."



Willow remained silent, allowing Buffy to lead her away. They made their way across the street and down the sidewalk, the darkness of night like a shroud draping the suburban streets of Sunnydale. Within minutes, they'd left the ranting manager and the ruined motel room far behind.



"Bastard!" Willow muttered.



"I'm really sorry," Buffy told her. "I'll help pay for the damages."



Willow smiled. "There's no need," she said.



"I caused the damages," Buffy reminded her. "There is a need--a big need."



Willow gestured, and a laminated plastic card appeared in her hand.



:What's that?" Buffy asked.



The witch handed it to her. It was a California driver's license. There was a picture of a young woman on it, along with a name--Kathy Van Helsing. The woman depicted on the license was slender, brunette, blue-eyed, and ravishingly beautiful.



Buffy frowned, puzzled. "Who's this?"



"Me."



"Huh?"



"That's me, as the motel manager sees me," the redheaded witch explained, "thanks to an identity-confusion spell." Willow nodded toward the driver's license that Buffy held. "That's the I. D. I gave him when I rented the room."



Buffy chuckled. "The police will have a hard time finding a woman who doesn't exist."



"So what do we do now?" Willow asked.



"Go to my house," Buffy replied. "I need another shower and, no offense, but you could use one, too." She handed the fake driver's license back to Willow. As the witch touched it, it vanished in a sparkle of colored lights.



Willow brightened. "I know! We can shower together!"



"Down, girl. We can shower alone."



"You may need someone to wash your back."



"I can manage."



They smiled at each other.



There was nothing as good as friendship, Willow thought, except--well, there was no sense in going there; it was clear that Buffy had no intention of letting their friendship go any further than what it was--friendship. If they couldn't be lovers, being friends was more than good enough for Willow. They walked together, side by side, down the dark streets of Sunnydale.



Abruptly, Willow stopped.



Tense and alert, Buffy also stopped. Had her Slayer's sense missed something that Willow had heard? "What is it?" she whispered.



"Baubo!" the witch answered. "Where's Baubo?"



In the intensity of their fight with Kekk demon and the angry motel manager's encounter with Willow, they'd completely forgotten about the two-and-a-half-foot tall, headless, armless female demon with the face in her belly and the cunt in her chin.



"She must have escaped," Buffy concluded.



"That means she's walking the streets of Sunnydale," Willow declared.



They considered the implications of the situation. Buffy shrugged, chuckling. "What can she do? She's the most helpless demon I've ever seen."



Picturing the hapless Baubo, Willow giggled. "I guess you're right. Unless she's sucking cock, fucking, or eating pussy, there's not much poor Baubo can do."



They resumed their walk. Each was silent, thinking her own thoughts. When Buffy spoke again, her tone of voice was somber. "Don't forget to make me forget," she said, nearly whispering the words.



"You're sure you want to forget all that happened in Baphomet's dimension?" They'd been through this before, but, before she did anything as serious as deleting a friend's memory, even of only a day's events' worth, Willow wanted to be sure that Buffy truly wanted such a loss.



The Slayer nodded, thinking of what had transpired between her and her friends following the gender-bending bite that the Feral demon had delivered to her during their fight. Buffy had performed cunnilingus on Anya. She'd caught Xander butt-fucking a coworker. She and her mentor--and father figure--Giles had engaged in anal intercourse. She'd been trapped inside a cavernous, cum-filled pussy and had been assaulted by numerous, disgusting demons, including the devil Baphomet himself. Finally, she'd fucked Willow in her ass. "Make us all forget, Will--me, Giles, Xander, Anya--"



"I will," Willow promised, "but I'm going to remember our moment together."



Buffy blushed in the darkness, remembering her stiff, swollen cock plunging with wild abandon inside Willow's smooth, creamy ass.



"Okay?" Willow asked, her voice as soft and smooth as silk.



Buffy shuddered. "As long as I don't have to remember and you don't remind me."



In the darkness, walking close beside her friend, Willow smiled, content. "Deal."



In another part of Sunnydale, Baubo darted behind a palm tree. She'd made her way across town, furtively streaking from tree to tree, car to car, and Dumpster to Dumpster, keeping herself concealed as much as possible. The Kekk demon had transported her to a strange, potentially hostile dimension far unlike her own, and, small as she was, she must be vigilant at all times. Around any corner, a terrible threat might be poised to strike, to rape, and to kill. After all, any world that could produce creatures as powerful and monstrous as the witch and the Slayer--well, they could produce anything! Besides, she had no idea what had happened with regard to her abductor. For all she knew, the Kekk demon could have slain the Slayer and the witch; he might be wandering these very streets, seeking his runaway sex slave.



Baubo had to be careful. She had to be very careful, indeed.



<i>. . . to be continued. . . . </i> 

