Baubo Ch. 06byCal Y. Pygia©
Willow reclined on the bed in her motel room. Using magic, she'd transformed herself into a psychic voyeur. Alternating her consciousness between Buffy and the goddess, demon, or whatever-the-hell Baubo was, the witch was able to monitor both the Slayer and the diminutive female that the Kekk demon had brought out of the crumbling demon dimension that Buffy had destroyed when she'd gone there to rescue Willow. Now, as Willow watched them, sometimes entering their minds to experience their thoughts and feelings, the witch masturbated, twiddling her stiff, swollen clitoris with her fingertips. Her cunt moistened. She flicked her throbbing clit faster, occasionally inserting a finger into the damp cleft of her sex. Her breathing quickened. Her heartbeat accelerated. Her pulse raced. She bit her lower lip.
Buffy, in Willow's shower, naked and wet, the spraying water glistening on her shining skin, was as lovely as ever. Willow wished her best friend had allowed her to stay with her. Willow would have liked to wash Buffy's back. The witch would have liked to wash the Slayer's breasts and buttocks, too. As she imagined herself performing these actions, Willow could all but actually feel the smooth, soapy mounds of Buffy's boobs and ass cheeks under her caressing hands and kneading fingers.
Willow would have loved to cup the sleek, fleshly hillocks in her hands, watching her long nails indent the smooth, satin-soft flesh. The witch would have loved to run her wet hands over the Slayer's lean flanks. Willow would have loved to rub the wet washcloth over Buffy's downy pubes and along and between her friend's labia.
Willow was hungry for Buffy; the witch was ravenous with the need to lick the Slayer's cunt and taste the warm, thick nectar of her pussy. The water continued to shower upon Buffy's slight frame, sluicing down her wet tits, belly, pubes, and thighs, and streaming along her spine and over her buttocks. Buffy turned this way and that, the better to expose her nakedness to the cascading water.
Willow's finger quickened, flicking, rubbing, and teasing her erect clitoris. The witch moaned.
It was fun watching Buffy, especially when the Slayer was unaware that she was being watched, but it was even more fun to experience the thoughts and feelings of the person--almost always another woman--whom Willow spied upon psychically. However, as Willow had learned long ago, were Buffy's mind to have been represented as an animal, the Slayer's psyche would have to be portrayed as a turtle. Her thoughts were more than merely veiled; they were armored. Her mind was impenetrable. Willow, try as she may--and she'd tried plenty--was never able to read Buffy's thoughts for long. The most the witch had been able to discern were flashes of her friend's views and feelings. In the past, these brief glimpses at the contents of the Slayer's mind had been mostly snapshots, as it were, of Buffy's adrenaline-charged fear, rage, or triumph; Willow had rarely been rewarded with a peek, as it were, at anything like lust or orgasm. There was no doubt about it, the witch thought, Buffy's thoughts and feelings were far more about violence than they were about sex.
As Willow sifted Buffy's consciousness, the witch gleaned no images of pricks, balls, or men's asses, nor did she see splatters of semen. Willow saw no tits or women's asses, either, or a single cunt, closed or gaping. After a while, Willow became bored watching Buffy bathe herself. Despite the big-eyed blonde's gorgeous figure, Buffy's nakedness was not, of itself, sufficient to engage the lesbian Wicca woman. Willow's thoughts settled upon the curious creature that called herself Baubo. Now, here was a creature who thought about little else but pricks, balls, men's asses, splatters of semen, tits, women's asses, labia, and cunts.
Although Baubo roamed the familiar streets of Sunnydale, the headless, armless female also hiked among the green hills and strolled the cobblestone streets of ancient Greece, a sense of longing in her heart that Willow soon recognized as homesickness. The lonely Baubo apparently had lived in Greece, millennia ago, and, as she wandered the streets of Willow's and Buffy's hometown, Baubo remembered scenes from her own motherland. The images in Baubo's mind shifted and changed. Before long, Baubo was in the company of another woman who was as larger than life as Baubo herself was smaller. Whereas Baubo was only two and a half feet tall, her companion was over six feet in height--and downright brawny! The statuesque woman had broad shoulders, six-pack abs, sinewy legs, and muscular thighs, like those of a male bodybuilder. However, her beautiful, feminine face, like her small, but womanly tits and her firm, tight-lipped cunt, left no doubt that she was a woman. As Willow continued to eavesdrop, keeping Baubo and her companion under watch, the witch soon learned that the larger-than-life woman was a true Amazon--one of the fabled female warriors about whom myths and legends boasted as fiercer and deadlier than men. It had taken no less a specimen of masculinity than Hercules to defeat the Amazon's queen. Baubo's tall, powerfully built female companion's name, Willow further learned, was Aegina.
Willow watched Baubo and Aegina make wild, passionate love, entering their minds to taste their lust and passion as she continued to stroke and finger her own now-soaked pussy. She gasped, her thighs quivering. She was close to orgasm. Watching two women--even when one was only half a woman, like Baubo--was always exciting, especially when she observe them secretly, from afar. At the same time, although she might be miles away, Willow was no farther than the minds of the women whom, in her own way, she haunted. Being a psychic voyeur was astonishingly sexy. It was definitely one of the finer spells that she and Tara had conceived.
Baubo was between the Amazon's thighs, facing Aegina's beautiful buttocks and magnificent cunt.
The Amazon had one of the finest asses Baubo had ever seen. Aegina's flawless buttocks were as smooth as porcelain, but warm and supple. Baubo studied the beautiful spheres, her eyes sweeping over the slopes and along the deep cleavage between the sleek cheeks, to rest upon the puckered anus above the crescent cunt between the warrior woman's satiny thighs. The weight of Aegina's buttocks seemed to settle in their lower halves and, by rounding her hips and her haunches, imparted to her form a perfect guitar shape. The burly Amazon's ass was so gorgeous that its beauty pierced Baubo's heart. Paradoxically, there was something sad about such loveliness--perhaps, as some of the poets among the mortals claimed, it was because of Baubo's recognition that this particular instance of beauty must be transitory, that it, like Aegina herself, must succumb to death and decay. Beauty should be eternal, Baubo thought, but, among mortals--even among those as lovely as the magnificent Aegina--it was not; hence, the sadness that loveliness imparted in its contemplation.
Willow's hand cupped the cleft mound of her sex, her curled forefinger stroking the hard bud of the swollen clit at the top of her liquid cunt. She moaned, her thighs making quick scissoring movements. Baubo's view of Aegina's ass was magnificent, and the tiny goddess' thoughts and feelings about the smooth, round mounds were sexier than hell. Even if she weren't masturbating, Willow's clitoris would be erect with lust. As it was, seeing through Baubo's eyes and thinking with Baubo's mind, Willow would be rocked with ecstasy within moments, and her cunt juices would be streaming over her trembling thighs.
Baubo sighed. The great beauty of Aegina's magnificent ass might be destined to fade, but, at the moment, it was present in all its glory, and the goddess meant to enjoy the Amazon's loveliness. Baubo's extraordinarily long tongue slid from between her lips, entered the deep chasm between the warm cushions of the Amazon's buttocks, and flicked lightly at her hostess' wrinkled asshole.
Willow groaned. Her finger slid back and forth within the slick, wet cleft of her sex.
Baubo licked the tight ring of Aegina's butt hole. Stiffening her tongue, Baubo jabbed at the woman warrior's anus, in quick, short strokes. Again, the Amazon gasped. Her asshole fluttered between Aegina's flexing buttocks. Baubo wished she had arms and hands, for she'd very much like to have been able to leave pink--or even purple--palm prints upon the Amazon's ample bottom, spanking her as she licked and kissed and sucked her ass.
Buffy's hand scrubbed at her cunt through the wet washcloth. Soap lathered the narrow chasm between her legs. The Slayer felt unclean. Dirty. Contaminated. She needed to scour herself. Her hand scrubbed harder. Even if she rubbed herself raw, she had to cleanse her flesh from--from--she was disturbed to find that she could not remember what seemed to have tainted her. She knew only that she had to wash away whatever it was that had besmirched her body and polluted her soul. She rubbed the washcloth with renewed vigor, desperate to get the foul filth, whatever it was, off her. She had to--
Willow shoved the images, thoughts, and feelings of her friend from her mind, concentrating, instead, upon the activities, emotions, and sensations that Baubo felt in her memory of the lovemaking in which she'd participated with the Amazon warrior. Buffy was beautiful, no doubt about that, but even the big-eyed blonde couldn't compare with the hot lesbian sex that Baubo was recalling, not when Buffy was doing nothing more than showering and thinking about how unclean she felt.
Baubo stuck her nose, mouth, and chin between Aegina's buttocks. The juices from her pussy-chin smeared against the inward-curving slopes of Aegina's buttocks, and Baubo's nose slid up, parting the deep furrow between the creamy globes of the Amazon's ass as the goddess pressed her pursed lips firmly against the warrior woman's anus, kissing it. Aegina squirmed, her own cunt awash in her fluids. Some of the warm liquid anointed the goddess's face, chin-cunt, and thighs. Baubo stuck the tip of her stiffened tongue directly into the Amazon's anal opening, furiously wriggling the wet, fleshly appendage. Aegina yelped.
Buffy scrubbed harder at her cunt, at her asshole, at her tits, desperate to feel clean again. The soapy water became tinged with pink. Buffy had more than exfoliated; she'd rubbed away the outermost layer of her skin, and blood oozed and welled within the white lather. Still, she felt infected, tainted, polluted; she'd never be clean again, she thought in despair, not if she scrubbed and washed and scoured her flesh forever--
Again, Willow focused on Baubo's thoughts and feelings, ignoring Buffy's despairing thoughts.
Baubo shoved several inches of her exceptionally long tongue through Aegina's anus, feeling the smooth, tight ring of the Amazon's sphincter widen to admit her. Her tongue impaling her hostess' asshole, Baubo flapped and waved the fleshly appendage, feeling the walls of the warrior woman's rectum slide, soft and smooth as the inner cheeks of Aegina's mouth--or cunt--past her own soft, wet tongue. Aegina shivered, her asshole fluttering, and her buttocks clamped tightly together before flexing rapidly. Her thighs quaked, too, and a stream of thick fluid gushed from the Amazon's cunt. The warrior woman whimpered, then moaned, then howled as wave after tidal wave of passion swept through her. A flood of pussy juice cascaded down the goddess' face, and Baubo licked frantically at the stream, swallowing as she lapped up the warm nectar. Baubo had meant to bring Aegina to orgasm by resuming her performance of cunnilingus on the Amazon, but the goddess' hostess had reached the point of no return as a result of Baubo's licking and probing her anus with her tongue. Philosophically, Baubo shrugged, smiling. It didn't really matter how Aegina had reached ecstasy as long as she had.
Willow's whirling, twirling fingers swirled about her clitoris. The hard, thick bud of flesh throbbed. The witch plunged her fingers into the wet maw of her liquid cunt. "Oooh!" she cried. Orgasm seized her, and she was carried away on the flood of her passion. Her anus fluttered, her thighs quaked, and her heart pounded; her cunt was a river. She gasped, closing her eyes, and panted between wrenching moans and loud groans that one might well have mistaken for the sounds not of passion, but of agony. Squirming, she continued to toy with and to tickle her lust-enflamed clitoris, the warm, thick juices of her cunt drenching her blankets, sheets, and mattress.
It was at this moment, while Willow was in the throes of ecstasy, that Buffy entered the bedroom, stepping across the threshold of the bathroom that opened onto the motel's bedroom. Her eyes widened as she saw her friend masturbating with abandon. "Willow," she said, not knowing what else to say.
Willow opened her long-lashed, anime-wide eyes. She had a glazed look. She seemed confused. "Buffy?" she asked, her voice tremulous. It was almost as if the witch didn't know where she was or who Buffy was or how the Slayer had come to be here, in her bedroom, wearing a fluffy white terrycloth bath towel.
At first, hearing her friend moaning. the Slayer had feared that the redheaded witch was in pain. "Willow?" Buffy called, concerned. "Are you all right?"
Her friend gave her a dreamy, faraway look. She grinned. "I'm fine--now."
Buffy saw Willow's hand, cupping the mound of her sex, her finger inserted into her cunt, the wet, disheveled blankets beneath the witch's drenched thighs and buttocks. Realization dawned on her, and Buffy frowned. No wonder Willow had had trouble recognizing her; the witch had just had a tremendously powerful orgasm from the looks of things. "Of all the times to masturbate!" she chided.
Willow's wide grin widened further. Her eyes were full of mischief. "Sorry," she said, but her tone was anything but.
Buffy shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Now that I'm through with the shower, maybe you should use it."
Willow chuckled. "A warm stream of water, in the right place, can do wonders for a girl."
"I was thinking more along the lines of a cold shower," Buffy returned. "In your case, maybe an ice-cold shower."
Willow rose from her bed. She approached Buffy, who eyed her warily. As Buffy had requested, Willow had erased all of the Slayer's memories of the horrible demon dimension from which they'd returned after having been ravaged every way possible by unspeakable demons. Nevertheless, the way that Buffy had scoured the flesh from her body and the way that she eyed her best friend cautiously, even suspiciously, made the witch realize that, on an unconscious level deeper even than Willow's magic, Buffy yet possessed some remnant of remembrance of these past incidents, no matter how vague and shadowy they might be. It was these vague recollections--or intimations--that had made Buffy feel unclean in the shower. At her side, Willow leaned forward and kissed her friend chastely upon the cheek.
Surprised, Buffy blinked, smiling uncertainly. "What was that about?"
Buffy's smile widened. "Thanks."
"I love you, Buffy."
Buffy arched an eyebrow.
"Not in a lesbian kind of way," she clarified. "In a friendship kind of way."
"I love you, too, Will."
Willow grinned, the familiar mischief back in her wide eyes. "Well, maybe in an unrequited lesbian kind of way."
"Go," Buffy ordered. "Take your shower."
"All right, all right. Geesh!"
"A cold shower."
On her way into the bathroom, Willow thought of Baubo. Despite her ancient age and never-changing, youthful beauty, the petite goddess had, even in the throes of ecstasy, emanated a deep and abiding sense of loneliness and sorrow. In her ages-long lifetime, she might have had sex with men, women, and sexes and genders undreamed of among mortals, but Baubo remained, at heart, a lonely and neglected deity. Well, maybe Willow could do something about Baubo's unfortunate plight. Maybe she could provide her with a companion--a consort of sorts--who was the masculine counterpart to herself. Andrew, one of the three bastards who'd been responsible for the death of the love of Willow's life, her fellow witch and girlfriend, Tara, would make a fine--well, at least, an acceptable--husband for the goddess.
As she undressed, Willow imagined Andrew reduced to a pair of legs, twin buttocks, a cock, and a set of balls, with his face a part of his belly, headless and armless, and of a height no greater than three feet. By the time she stepped beneath the hot, hissing shower and the steam had begun to rise and billow about her naked body, Willow had made up her mind to effect Andrew's transformation. She'd make him a Humpty Dumpty-like caricature of a man, consisting of a male's lower body with a face in his belly and a cock and balls dangling from his chin.
In the shower, Willow began to sing.
. . . to be continued. . .