tagCelebritiesBuffy the Shemale Vampire Slayer Ch. 03

Buffy the Shemale Vampire Slayer Ch. 03

byCal Y. Pygia©

Buffy couldn't stop smiling.

It felt great to have left Spike on his knees, clutching his balls in pain after she'd sucked his cock and swallowed his load of icy vampire's semen. Sex was about power, not love, and nothing made a girl feel more powerful than reducing a man--or, in Spike's case, a used-to-be man--to a gasping, cursing victim in pain. The humiliation that Spike felt because of her abusive treatment of him also fed her sense of superiority and power. For Buffy, especially when it came to Spike, it wasn't so much a matter of love him and leave him as it was use--or abuse--him and lose him.

As she walked the streets of Sunnydale, to the motel in which Willow was staying, temporarily, until she could come to terms with Tara's death, Buffy thought of the other men and monsters she'd humiliated and abused. She'd learned a lot on that subject from her first love, the vampire with a soul, known as Angel (or Angelus, when his evil alter ego asserted itself). He'd made her love him, and the happiness that their consummation of their love brought him canceled the curse that had restored his soul, and he'd reverted to his true demonic self, stalking Buffy and her friends and playing cruelly with Buffy's heartstrings, making a mockery of her love and their former relationship. In the end, though, after Willow had restored Angel's soul, Buffy had hurt him at least as much as he'd hurt her, although unintentionally. In the process, she'd learned a lot about the narrow line between love and hate, between power and vulnerability, between dominance and submission.

She'd learned a lot more from Xander's one-time floozy, the vengeance demon Anya. Love--or the romantic variety, at least--was an illusion in this world, Buffy had discovered. The revelation had broken her heart, leaving her harder and colder, if wiser to the ways of the world. Since her realization that sex was about power, Buffy had more and more adopted Faith's maxim, "Get some and get gone." Of course, it made a girl feel good if, in the process, she could break a heart or two. Breaking hearts was more fulfilling, she felt, than staking them. After all, a stake through the heart killed a man or annihilated a vamp, turning him to dust, whereas a broken heart killed the soul but allowed the body and the mind to live--and to grieve.

Riley Finn, the undercover commando who captured demons and other "subhumans" as an agent of the top secret military operation known as the Initiative, also taught Buffy bittersweet lessons about loving and leaving someone. She'd loved him as far as she'd been able to do so, but, despite giving him her body and her heart, she'd kept the deepest, most central part of herself--her soul--from him. She'd not been able to become one hundred percent his, not after having been betrayed by Angel. She'd never again place herself in the position of loving someone else so completely that she risked the heartbreak that followed a lover's abandonment.

In the end, Riley had sought solace in the arms of female vampires, feeling needed because of their need: in letting them suck his blood, he had provided not only nourishment to them, but life itself. Being the source of life to them had been more than emotionally satisfying; it had filled him with a sense of power and vitality; it had made him feel like a god. For a time, it had allowed him to remain with Buffy, more used than loved by her and a thing of convenience to her, to be fucked or sucked at her pleasure and otherwise largely ignored. On a level deeper than the Slayer had realized, however, Buffy, in her own way, had genuinely cared about Riley. When he left, she'd felt as if she would die. She hadn't, though. She'd survived this loss as she had so many others, and it had made her stronger--or, at any rate, it had made her harder, colder, and crueler.

Spike had also taught Buffy how to love and hate and how to gain and hold the upper hand in a relationship. From him, she'd learned both to be "love's bitch" and to be the mistress of such a bitch. Lead a guy on; then, when he was most vulnerable and needy, sexually and emotionally, either leave him or make him act against his own nature to attain temporary, fleeting gratification. Before long, he'd be completely in Buffy's power, and she could exercise divine-like powers over him, becoming a goddess whom he would worship just for a little pussy or a ten-minute blowjob. Men were so easy, she thought, smirking, even when they were undead!

Women were another matter altogether, especially women like Willow. A high school sophomore when Buffy, also a high school sophomore at the time, had met her, Willow had been a shy, timid girl with low self-esteem and a decided lack of self-respect who, except for Xander and Buffy, was without friends. In fact, like Xander, she'd been a social pariah.

She'd escaped in books, computers, and magic. By devoting long hours to the uses (and abuses) of enchantment, she had become a powerful witch, acquainted with both white and black magic. Outwardly, she'd also become more confident and self-assured, developing greater self-respect and self-esteem. She'd gone from having a childhood crush on Xander to having sex with Oz, and from a relationship with the werewolf band member to a passionate liaison with Tara.

Nevertheless, those who knew Willow well--Tara, Xander, Buffy, and Buffy's Watcher, Rupert Giles--understood that, beneath the superficial appearance of confidence, Willow was still Willow, lacking in self-assurance and a strong sense of identity. Buffy, as someone who was (mostly) the epitome of confidence, courage, and determination, found Willow sexy as hell. There was a charming innocence and straightforwardness about the witch that appealed to men and women alike. Buffy wasn't immune to Willow's seductive girlishness; as a heterosexual, however, she'd repressed the lesbian attraction she sometimes felt for her high school friend. After all, girls were soft and cuddly, but Buffy liked hard, fiercely independent men. She especially liked to humiliate them. There was no need to humiliate someone like Willow, who had almost no ego at all. Still, as someone who had both sets of genitals, male and female, Buffy was intrigued as to how it would feel to play the part of the male with a soft, sleek babe like Willow, and she intended to find out--the Sunnydale Motel was just around the next corner. After Tara's murder, Willow had taken up residence in the run-down, Spartan hostel, occupying the same room in which Faith had resided after the rogue Slayer had come to town, fleeing the ancient vamp known as Kakistos.

Reaching the door to Willow's room, Buffy knocked sharply. She waited. When there was no response, she knocked again, more loudly. Still, there was no answer. Buffy leaned to her right, to peer in through the small window beside the door, but the curtain was closed, and it was as dark inside the motel room as it was outside. She couldn't see anything in there.

"Can I help you?" an annoyed male voice demanded.

Buffy straightened, turned, and faced the motel's manager. "Uh, I was just--"

"Peeking in one of my guest's windows?"

Buffy blushed. "I wasn't peeking," she objected. "I was more like peeping."

Another of the renter's lesbian friends, the manager thought. "She isn't in there."

"Do you know where she might be?"

The manager looked Buffy and down. "Depends."

Buffy arched an eyebrow, her hands involuntarily curling into fists at her sides. If this asshole said anything out of the way, she was going to pummel him good. "Depends on what?"

"What's your name?"

"Little Miss Muffet."

"Sorry. Wrong answer. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

As he turned away, Buffy stopped him, placing a hand on his forearm. "Why do you want to know my name?"

"If you're a certain party, the lady who rents this room wanted me to tell you--"

"I'm Buffy."

The manager hesitated. Then, he shrugged. "All right, Little Missy Buffy Muffet, she said that, if you were to come by, she'd be at Xander's house."

Buffy sighed. Xander's house was all the way on the other side of town. "Thanks."

It was late afternoon by the time Buffy had switched buses twice to reach her destination. The bus stop at which she'd disembarked from the lumbering vehicle was only half a block from Xander's house. She walked briskly.

Along the way, she thought of her hermaphroditic fate. She still wasn't sure how she should feel about having both male and female genitals. It was both sexy and frightening. She decided that she'd like to revert to her normal girl-self as soon as possible, although not before she'd sampled Willow's charms. Lost in such musings, she was at Xander's house before she knew it. She knocked at the front door.

Her friend's father answered. He wore a stained T-shirt, rumpled slacks with a wide-open zipper that revealed the white cotton of his not-so-bulgy briefs, and dirty white socks. His hair was a wild mess, and his face was covered in a two-days'-old growth of whiskers. He held an open beer can in his hand. Regarding Buffy through narrowed, rheumy eyes, he asked, "What do you want?"

"I came to see Xander."

Mr. Harris opened the door, indicating another door, off the kitchen. "He's down there," he declared, "in the basement."

"Do you mind if I--?"

Mr. Harris took a long pull at his beer. He belched loudly, frowning. "Go ahead."

Poor Xander, Buffy thought, as she stepped past her friend's drunken father, hastened to the basement door, opened it, and scrambled down the steep wooden steps into the cool, damp, dimly lit of the underground chamber.

At the bottom of the stairs, a doorway led into the furnished room that served as Xander's studio apartment. Pausing, Buffy lifted her fist to rap at the doorsill with her knuckles. Once, she'd entered Xander's apartment without pausing to knock, and she'd embarrassed both only herself but Xander and Anya as well, who, nude, were in the midst of some heavy-duty lovemaking. She didn't want to surprise Xander that way ever again. As she was about to knock, she heard a stranger's voice. It was a man's voice, moaning. Xander! Buffy thought. He might be in danger!

She rushed through the doorway, hearing another moan, and then a masculine voice: "Fuck me, Xander! Fuck me fast and hard!"

Buffy 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 called, too stunned to stop herself from uttering his name--and giving away her presence.

Immediately, Xander jerked his cock from the other man's ass, rolling toward Buffy and trying, unsuccessfully, to cover his erect member with his hands. He was as staggered as Buffy to find the Slayer here, now. He needn't have bothered trying to conceal his nakedness; Buffy had seen him nude before and had, in fact, been on the receiving end of his manhood, just as this stranger was now, although with Xander's prick in her cunt rather than up her ass. "Buffy!" he cried, his face a mask of fear and horror.

Xander's guest rolled onto his side, looking back at the intruder who'd interrupted their lovemaking session. He frowned, not looking at all friendly. To Xander, he said, "Who's the bimbo?"

Buffy blushed again, but with anger this time, rather than embarrassment. "From where I'm standing," she retorted, "it looks like you're the bimbo."

Not knowing what to say, Xander blurted, "Buffy, this is Chester." He looked from the Slayer's annoyed countenance to his sexual partner's angry face. "Chester, meet Buffy." When neither of his friends spoke, but, instead continued to eye one another like enemies about to come to blows, Xander, more to fill the silence than anything, added, "Chester works for me, on my construction crew."

"Oh," Buffy replied, nonplussed. "I see."

"We were just in the middle of an erection," Chester said, smiling lasciviously.

Xander said, "What's up, Buff?"

"Something," she said, staring pointedly at the naked Chester.

Taking the clue, Xander turned to his friend. "Chester, could we, uh--" he blushed, glancing at Buffy--"finish this later?"

"Sure, sweetie." He rose, and Buffy averted her eyes from his nakedness, but not before she'd observed his half-erect penis. Eight inches long and as thick as her wrist, it was huge even in its semi-flaccid state. It must look formidable, indeed, in its full glory, Buffy thought, wondering whether Xander had ever had that monster cock up his ass, the way he'd had his cock in Chester's bottom just a few moments ago. She blushed at the thought.

Chester leaned into Xander, kissing his lips. "Later, lover."

Xander gulped. What must Buffy think of him? he wondered. Nodding to Chester, he whispered, "Yeah, later."

Chester smiled at his discomfort, kissed him again, harder, and added, "Love you."

"Yeah, me, too," Xander managed to mumble.

Collecting his clothing from the chair in which he'd deposited it, Chester drew on his slacks, not bothering with his underwear, and pulled on his shirt, leaving it unbuttoned to reveal his broad, deep chest and his tight, rippling abs. He strolled toward Buffy. As he came abreast of her, he said, "Remember, he's mine, Blondie."

After Chester had ascended the stairs and they were alone together, Xander glanced at Buffy. "I'm sorry, Buff," he said sheepishly.

"For what?" she replied, intending her response to sound casual. Instead, it sounded artificial.

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

"No big," Buffy lied. She changed the subject. "Speaking of Will, have you seen her?"

"No."

Buffy frowned.

"Should I have?" Xander asked.

"The mangy manager of the motel where she's staying said she was coming to your house."

Xander was glad Willow hadn't walked in on him and Chester. It was bad enough that Buffy had. "Well, she hasn't been here," he assured Buffy. "I've been here all day." The thought of himself in bed with Chester, fucking him, made Xander blush again. Despite his extreme discomfort, he stared into the Slayer's eyes. "About what happened here, Buffy--can it be our secret? I'm very comfortable living in the closet, and--"

"Closet? I thought you lived in your parents' basement," Buffy joked.

He looked somewhat relieved. "Thanks, Buffy."

Poor Xander, she thought. He looked devastated. It must be really hard to have one of your best friends discover such a secret about you. "You okay?"

"Fine. Promise not to tell?"

He didn't look fine, she thought. He looked sick. "Sure."

"Buffy, no one can know. Not Willow, not Giles, not Anya, not--"

"No one's going to know," Buffy assured him. "What someone does in the privacy of his own home is totally his business." Buffy was watching her friend closely as she spoke to him, and now she frowned. "Xander? Is that a tear I see? Are you crying?"

He wiped the teardrop away. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice breaking. He sobbed, the tears coming fast and furiously. His frame shook, and a keening, wailing sound seemed to emanate from the depths of his being.

Buffy crossed the room, holding him. Although he was naked, she hardly noticed, and neither of them cared. Xander was too frightened and ashamed to care, and Buffy was too concerned. She held him the way that a mother might hold a frightened child, cooing soothingly to him. "It's all right, Xander," she whispered. "It's all right."

"It's been so hard living a lie all these years," he confessed between the sobs that wracked his body. "I've wanted to tell you, tell Willow, tell Giles, tell the others. I wanted to tell everyone so many times."

"It's all right," Buffy repeated softly.

"No one can ever know," Buffy. "I'm so ashamed."

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

He continued to weep; she continued to hold him.

"Willow's gay," Buffy reminded him, "but that doesn't make us love her any the less."

That was true, Xander thought, but their knowing that Willow was a lesbian had changed their relationships as friends. Although he and Buffy loved Willow just as much as they ever had before she'd announced her lesbianism, their friendship was different now in some ways, and it always would be, just as his friendship with Buffy had been irrevocably changed by her discovery of his bisexuality.

"Look," Buffy said, releasing him and stepping back a few feet. "I want to show you something."

Xander waited.

Buffy hitched her thumbs in the waistband of her sweatpants and lowered them to her knees. She hadn't put on any panties, and her cock and balls dangled between her legs.

Xander's eyes became huge. His mouth hung open. "Buffy! You're a boy!"

She chuckled, moving the male genitals aside to reveal the cleft of her female sex behind the cock and balls. "Not quite," she corrected him. "I'm a boy and a girl--a hermaphrodite."

"A hermaphro-what-ite?"

She told him the myth, adding, "In reality, a baby is rarely born with the genitals of both sexes. When such a birth does occur, the parents decide which way to raise the child, whether as a boy or a girl, and the baby is surgically altered accordingly."

"You weren't born that way," Xander objected. He and Buffy had had sex, and he knew that she hadn't been sporting male genitals--unfortunately--during their lovemaking sessions.

"No," Buffy agreed.

"So how?"

"A Feral demon bit me last night; this morning, I woke up with these."

Xander smiled. "They're beautiful," he complimented her, "just like the rest of you." An idea occurred to him, and his smile widened into a grin. "Hey! You want to--?"

"Down, boy. I want to get rid of these jewels. I mean, they're great, but, you know, I've kind of gotten used to being a girl. That's why I was looking for Willow." She pulled her sweats back up.

"I'll help you find her."

"Shouldn't you be getting back to Chester?"

Xander looked as if she'd slapped him. "What was that for?" he asked, hurt.

She looked puzzled. "What was what for?"

"The not-so-little, no-so-subtle dig."

"It wasn't a dig. It was a suggestion."

"You're really okay with my being bi?"

She nodded, stepping up to him and kissing him. Her fingers found his cock and gave it a playful squeeze. "As long as you're bi, guy."

Xander smiled. "That's me: bi guy." He kissed her back.

"See you later."

"You can have sloppy seconds, if you want," Xander promised.

"Maybe I'll take you up on that," she said.

Xander watched Buffy as she walked across the room and up the steps, her hips swiveling and her buttocks swaying. His prick started to swell. He was glad that he was bisexual. A girl like Buffy, whether she was packing or not, was just too damned beautiful to miss out on. Of course, Chester wasn't bad, either. He smiled, thinking of Woody Allen's quip about how being bisexual doubled one's chances for a date on Saturday night.

He thought of something else, too. Although Buffy had caught him in bed with Chester, she remained ignorant of Xander's many trysts with her sometimes-boyfriend, Spike, which was just as well. He didn't need a jealous, pissed off Slayer on his hands. He preferred the sympathetic, consoling, friendly Buffy.

. . . to be continued. . .

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