TITLE    : Buffy the Shemale Vampire Slayer Ch. 12
STORYID  : buffy-the-shemale-vampire-slayer-ch-12
SUMMARY  : Buffy battles for her life and Willow's freedom.
AUTHOR   : Cal Y. Pygia@lit
DATE     : 2005-09-08
CATEGORY : celebrity-stories
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |buffy|willow|giles|xander|anya|baphomet|cock|shemale|transsexual|pussy|


"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.

<hr pg="2" />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.

<hr pg="3" />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.



The End? 

