Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. These are just stories based on the characters created by other more accomplished people.
A/N: This is an idea I had while writing my thesis. This is my first Mature story and will contain lemons in other chapters. Cheers.
Faith had just finished patrolling with Buffy for the first time since they met the previous night. After clearing two mausoleums off their vampire guests, Buffy and Faith parted ways. The former decided to return home since it was already very late and she had to wake up for school in a few hours while Faith decided to head over to the Bronze. Faith did invite Buffy, but the latter once again declined. As Faith made her way to the only club in Sunnydale that allowed under-aged patrons. She was both hungry and horny; it was common, but rarely discussed, bit of trivial knowledge related to Slayers. Faith was yearning for a one-night stand that would scratch the sexual itch she was feeling. They – Slayers – faced death every day, so why shouldn't she give in to nights of passion that would take the stress off.
It would be nearly thirty minutes later that she reached the Bronze. There were people milling about near the entrance while many others were walking over to the nearby parking lot. Faith sighed as she watched some of the more handsome boys walk away with their arms around the shoulders of their girlfriends or their girl of the night. 'Of course, most of them are gone,' Faith thought to herself as she caught sight of the clock at the entrance after paying the cover charge to the bouncer, 'it's already 2 in the morning.' Ah well, there could be some left-over boys who were just cute enough for the night. Upon reaching the bar, Faith looked over the dance floors and the seating areas which were nearly empty. There were some couples on the dance floor swaying away while others were seated drinking their non-alcoholic drinks. But she wasn't interested in them. And the night wouldn't be fun if she wasn't interested.
Faith sighed, thinking it would have been better to get some food at the diner next to the Sunnydale Motor Inn where she was staying. Deciding to go to the diner instead given the lack of even decent prey, Faith was about to leave when she noticed someone waving from a dimly lit corner under a flight of stairs that led to the upper level which was also devoid of people. Faith's eyes locked with those of the green haired woman waving at her.
Faith waved her hand while her eyes lingered on the woman across the room, the bright green hair immediately catching her attention. The woman was striking, with pale skin and piercing eyes that seemed to gleam under the dim lights of the Bronze. She was lounging casually, watching Faith with a half-smile that felt both inviting and mysterious. Faith felt a surge of curiosity, and, for a moment, the idea of a late-night snack at the diner didn't seem as tempting as it had a second ago. The Bronze might have lost its good-looking guys, but maybe, just maybe, it had something even more interesting to offer that night. It wasn't the first time Faith was interested in other women… and it wasn't that she feared getting into bed with another woman. She simply preferred having something thick and meaty plunged into her after a night of Slaying. However, there was something about this woman… an odd sensation that seemed to take over Faith's senses.
The woman tilted her head ever so slightly with a smirk, and Faith sensed an unspoken invitation. The Slayer took a breath, shrugging off the slight shiver that crawled up her spine, and started to make her way over to the mysterious woman.
As Faith walked toward the woman, that odd sensation increasingly stirred within her—it was a pull unlike anything she'd felt before. It was deeper than simple attraction, like a need that whispered and coiled at the back of her mind. She felt exposed, almost like the woman's gaze peeled back her defences, seeing parts of her she kept hidden even from herself. Her heartbeat quickened, her skin prickling with a strange mix of vulnerability and thrill. Each step felt weightier, as if the closer she got, the more tightly this feeling wrapped around her.
By the time Faith reached the table, her usual confidence had a hint of something else—a raw yearning she couldn't quite put into words. Faith could feel her body growing warm… as if she was being undressed slowly while soft feminine lips kissed her neck, shoulders, and then her chest just above her cleavage. Taking control of her barely quivering lips, Faith opened her mouth, half-ready to throw out a playful remark, but the woman rose before she could speak.
"Up for a nightcap?" the woman asked, her voice smooth and laced with a subtle, almost musical allure.
The words sent a flicker of anticipation through Faith, a thrill she couldn't quite shake off. She managed a grin, her own voice barely steady as she replied, "Depends… where're we headed?"
The woman reached out with one hand. A hand that Faith, staring into her eyes, grabbed before being pulled away towards the nearby rear exit. Faith's senses were overloaded, her body moving as if under a spell. The woman's touch was electrifying; the contact felt as if trails of heat were arching along her skin. Faith barely registered where they were headed until she felt the cold press of brick against her back, and then the woman's lips were on hers—hungry, demanding. Faith's mind screamed that something was off, but it was drowned by a desperate salacious need that seemed to swell from somewhere deep inside her. It was an ache that had Faith pressing back into the kiss, her breath mingling with the stranger's.
When they finally broke apart, both gasping, Faith tried to catch her breath, her heartbeat racing from more than just the kiss. Faith felt her body growing hotter, sweat was already beading on her forehead, she could feel sweat beading down the sides of her neck, she could feel her panties were already wet, and her sex was crying out for some much-needed attention. But Faith couldn't move her limbs. The woman's gaze held her captive once again, her eyes gleaming with something dark and possessive. It was a look that made Faith shiver. The stranger leaned in close to Faith's left ear, her voice barely a whisper, but it seemed to echo in Faith's mind as she murmured, "Oh, you will do."
The words settled over Faith like a weight, leaving her breathless. There was a lingering feeling within her that she'd just stepped over some invisible line. Faith's slayer instincts flared, sharp and uneasy, - there was something very wrong - but her body refused to respond, as if it were no longer entirely under her control. Faith only managed a shaky smile in order to mask the flood of emotions – mostly pleasure - surging within her.
"Do what, exactly?" Faith whispered; her voice barely steady as she tried her best to keep away the gasp of pleasure that was trying to escape her quivering lips. The woman offered a smile as Faith released the gasp of pleasure she was holding back. Suddenly, the Slayer felt her whole body weaken before tipping forward and collapsing onto the woman.
Faith's wasn't sure how much time passed as her eyes fluttered open, her vision blurry as she blinked against moonlight filtering through broken, stained-glass windows above her head. This was in addition to the many torches that lined the walls of the building. As her vision cleared, Faith could tell she was in a church… and from the looks of the unkept surroundings, it was an abandoned church with grey stone walls. The air felt thick and stale, laced with the smell of dust and mildew, and every breath left a cold ache in her lungs. Faith looked around at the shadows which clung to the stone walls around her. Squinting her eyes, Faith could make out where faded, barely legible and seemingly hastily drawn symbols snaked up toward the ceiling.
Faith was lying on her back, her skin prickling against the icy stone of the alter beneath her. She tried to move her arms and legs but the weight of iron shackles pressed against her wrists and ankles. She glared at the shackles where she could only just make out strange symbols etched into the metal. The bonds kept her naked form spread out on the altar; she tugged at them instinctively, only to find they wouldn't budge. Her Slayer strength felt distant, muffled, as if she was trying to reach out for it but it remained just out of her hands.
A flicker of movement in her peripheral vision drew her gaze, and there stood the woman from the Bronze. Except now she was cloaked in dark, heavy robes, the fabric pooling around her feet. Most of her dark green hair was hidden beneath a hood, but her eyes glowed in the dimness, fixated on Faith with a predatory intensity. In her hands, she held a jar—elaborately designed, with intricate carvings spiralling up its surface, shimmering faintly in the dull light. It looked ancient, and something about it made Faith's skin crawl, as if the jar itself were alive, pulsing with a dark, foreboding energy.
Faith's pulse hammered as the woman stepped closer, her presence filling the room with an oppressive weight, like a storm cloud settling over her. She felt utterly helpless, a primal fear clawing at her insides as she struggled against the chains. But there was no luck… the chains would not break.
The woman's silence was unnerving, her face expressionless as she set the jar down just inches from the soft valley between Faith's legs. She glared at the jar as it clinked upon resting on the surface of the alter. Faith then turned her head towards the woman while still trying to break the bonds tying her down. The Slayer's anger flared, and she yelled out, her voice echoing off the cold, stone walls, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
But the woman didn't respond. Instead, she closed her eyes and began to murmur in a low, rhythmic chant, each word foreign and guttural, filling the air with a dark, unsettling resonance. Faith could only catch one word amidst the incantation: "Lilithera." She had no clue what it meant, but it seemed to hang in the air, amplifying the oppressive feeling pressing down on her chest.
The room felt colder, heavier, as if the walls themselves were breathing in the woman's words. Faith's pulse quickened as she strained against the chains, but her strength seemed sapped, dulled to a fraction of what it should've been.
Without breaking the chant, the woman slipped off her robe, revealing pale skin painted with intricate black lines that branched out from the center of her chest, spiraling down her arms and across her stomach. The designs seemed almost alive, shifting subtly in the dim light, each line twisting like vines toward her limbs.
Faith gritted her teeth and yelled again, louder this time. "What are you up to, huh? What's all this supposed to be?"
But the woman's chanting only grew louder, her gaze still fixed on Faith as she raised her hands, the painted lines on her skin seeming to pulse in rhythm with her words. Faith's heart pounded as the oppressive energy in the room thickened, coiling around her, almost as if something unseen were watching, waiting.
The woman's chanting stopped abruptly, and for a moment, an unnerving silence filled the space. Faith's chest heaved as she panted, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. The woman's eyes bore into hers, gleaming with intent, and Faith felt like prey caught in the eye of a storm, held still by something far greater and more terrible than herself.
Then, without warning, warmth began to bloom in her core, spreading slowly, inexorably outward until it reached her face, her breasts, her fingers; the warmth travelled down her legs and down to her feet. She could feel her sex pulsing as she gasped out a "FUCK!" The heat spreading through her was a sensation unlike anything she'd ever felt—deep, pulsing, and impossibly intense. Faith shut her eyes, gasping "ahhh… ahhhh" as a wave of pleasure surged through her, crashing against her will to resist. She tried to shake it off, to push the feeling down, but it consumed her, radiating through her veins like molten fire.
The woman's cool fingers found her, sending jolts of sensation rippling through Faith's body. Faith bit back a moan, her mind struggling against the intoxicating fog overtaking her senses. Looking at the woman, Faith managed to choke out, "Wh-what... what are you doing?"
The woman didn't answer, but her lips curled into a smile—a cruel, knowing smile—as she began chanting once more, her voice a dark, resonant murmur that seemed to reverberate in Faith's bones. "Dear God!!!" Faith yelled out in pleasure as the woman plunged her fingers into the dark haired Slayers wet throbbing cunt. The chanting increased in intensity as the woman pulled out her fingers which were covered in Faith's clear juices. She placed the wet fingers between the lips of Faith's cunt before starting to trace a wet line up the flat of the Slayer's stomach, up her chest between the pair of heaving breasts. The woman smirked as she left a damp, burning trail across Faith's skin. Her touch lingered at the hollow of Faith's throat before trailing up to each breast, circling each hardened light brown nipple with a practiced, ritualistic precision.
Faith's eyes fluttered, helpless against the sensations flooding her, but somewhere deep inside, her instincts screamed in warning. The chant intensified, filling the room with a palpable energy that pressed down on her like an invisible weight, thick and oppressive, making it impossible to move. Faith wanted to fight, to resist, but the waves of pleasure and the strange, overpowering energy left her paralyzed, teetering on the edge of something she did not understand.
Suddenly Faith's body arched involuntarily, a surge of pleasure ripping through her so intense that she cried out, her voice reverberating off the ancient stone walls. As she continued screaming in pleasure, Faith swore she heard something shatter in the haze of whatever was happening to her —a brittle, splintering sound that might've been the jar, though her mind could barely focus. Her screams increased in intensity when she felt something thick plunge into her body from between her legs and through her arse. The world dissolved into wave after wave of ecstasy, raw and consuming, until her thoughts were lost, replaced by nothing but the fire coursing through her veins.
The chains rattled as she thrashed against them, her body completely at the mercy of whatever force had been awakened around her. Her screams echoed through the empty church, twisted and haunting in the dark, abandoned space. She tried to hold on, to make sense of what was happening, but her senses were overwhelmed, her awareness slipping with each pulse of pleasure that tore through her.
Then, just as her vision began to dim while her body continued to writhe, she felt the woman climb onto the alter before climbing up Faith's body. Faith watched through tired eyes as the woman straddled her head. The Slayer, now staring up at the woman's shaved cunt just inches away from her lips, heard herself growl. Faith could smell the woman's scent; she could feel a wave of warmth radiating from the woman. The woman leaned down, her eyes meeting Faith's; the formers eyes glittering with a dark, triumphant gleam. The woman then whispered, "You will be hungry, Your Grace. I am your disciple… your sacrifice. Feed on me. Feed on my energy."
Faith's last coherent thought was a desperate attempt to fight against whatever had taken control of her, but it was drowned beneath the overpowering need growing inside her. The heat became an unbearable burn, and with one final, helpless gasp, she shot her head upwards. The last thing Faith remembered before blacking out was her tongue slipping between the mysterious woman's cunt.
It would be hours later that Faith jolted awake, a gasp escaping her lips as she found herself sprawled on her motel bed. Sunlight seeped through the thin curtains, casting a harsh light on her aching, bruised body. Every muscle felt strained, sore, as if she'd been put through the wringer. Especially her snatch, which throbbed with a dull, lingering pain. She groaned, propping herself up slowly, her thoughts scattered. How had she even gotten back here? The last thing she could remember was flashes of shadowy stone walls and the presence of that woman. Who was she? What did she do to Faith? And again, how did she get back to the motel?
With effort, Faith swung her legs over the side of the bed and staggered to her feet, balancing herself against the wall as her head spun. She needed a shower, something to clear away this feeling of grime, of something dark clinging to her skin.
In the washroom, she caught her reflection in the mirror, her eyes shadowed, hair wild. She'd looked better, that was for sure. But as she stared, a sudden, sharp pain lanced through her mind, searing and insistent. She squeezed her eyes shut, a cry escaping her as the pain pulsed, leaving her breathless.
In the darkness behind her eyes, an image seared into her mind. She was staring into a vast, endless blackness, out of which emerged a towering figure—an impossibly beautiful yet horrifying creature with skin that shimmered like darkened obsidian, veined with streaks of molten red that pulsed like blood beneath the surface. Her eyes glowed with a cold, piercing fire, slitted like a serpent, and her full lips curved into a wicked smile that held both hunger and malice.
Two vast, bat-like wings spread behind her, covered in scales that glimmered like oil slicks in dim light. Her fingers were tipped with razor-sharp claws, and her long, dark hair cascaded around her like a river of shadows. She wore a crown of twisted, silver horns that arched upward from her temples, sharp as knives, and around her neck hung an amulet, a pulsing, blood-red gem that seemed to glow with life.
Faith's heart pounded as she realized, with a horrified twist, that the creature bore a haunting resemblance to her own face. It was twisted and dark, yet undeniably her face. The demonic figure's eyes met Faith's in that flash of a vision, and she felt an unbearable pull toward it—a mixture of terror and something unnameable that stirred within her very being; a raw, primal connection that made her stomach twist.
And then, as suddenly as it appeared, the vision was gone. Faith's eyes flew open, and she gasped, clutching the edges of the sink. Her head still throbbed, and her heart raced as she stared at herself in the mirror, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of that creature's presence.
"What... what the hell was that?" she whispered, her voice trembling. The image lingered in her mind, vivid and grotesque. And Faith sensed that whatever she'd seen, it was only the beginning of something far darker than she could ever imagine.
TBC