Parker wasn't enough for Buffy. She needs more. She's not normal.


Buffy laces up the back of her shirt with shaking hands. She finds her purse somewhere on Parker’s bed, in the mess of red sheets. He sits up in bed, naked, pretty guy, nice chest, her scratch-marks all over his back, but doesn’t say anything to try to stop her from leaving.

Her dorm’s not far, but Buffy is nowhere near sleepy. She’s frustrated and baffled. She needs a friend. She heads north, to student-ville just off campus, where Oz lives in a house with the rest of his band.

They’ve got a party going on, loud, crowded. She finds Oz in the living room, playing his Strat with Xander sitting on the arm of the couch watching. No surprise finding Xander there. Xander and Oz have been hanging out a lot this summer and fall, ever since Willow left for Oxford. Oz catches her eye and leads them both back to his room. Oz’s room smells a little bit like weed, but less than the rest of the house does. Xander shuts the door behind them and the noise of the party is choked off. Buffy flops herself on Oz’s bed.

“I thought you were going out with Parker tonight,” Xander says.

“I was. I did. We went out and then we went in.”

“And?” says Oz. He plops himself down on the floor, cross-legged, and resumes playing his guitar unplugged.

Buffy shrugs.

“Did you fuck him?” Oz is so casual, so matter-of-fact about it that Buffy can’t feel insulted.

“Yeah. But it was a big–” Buffy jabs her thumb down.

Xander sprawls himself on the bed next to her. “Did he at least make you come?”

Buffy blushes but answers Xander in kind anyway. “No. No coming for me. He did, though. Then he wanted to screw me again, but it was just too boring. Bland. He wouldn’t even bite me.”

Xander shifts himself closer to her on the bed. He’s looking at her body, at her breasts. Xander raises his hand, and Buffy’s convinced he’s going to touch her breasts. He licks his lips. Buffy’s own lips part and her breath comes fast. Is he going to? Xander hovers, smiles, meets her gaze. Instead of touching her, he says, “You got a hickey on your neck. Right where Angel drank from you.”

Buffy covers the spot with a hand. She walked around the party with that visible, looking like she’d just had sex. She’s aware suddenly that her shirt exposes more than it hides. She’s wearing nothing under it. Her nipples are stiff and the shirt does nothing to hide them. Thinking about when Angel bit her, how she’d come just from that, makes it even worse. Xander is inches away from her and his fingers are brushing over the hickey, over the scars.

“Parker bit, but not hard enough. Parker’s not like us,” Xander says, apparently to Oz, and not to Buffy.

“That’s interesting,” Oz says, slowly.

“You need to be bitten?”

Buffy breathes out. Understatement of the year. The expression on Xander’s face is sympathy mixed with something else she can’t quite figure out. She shakes her head.

“I need more than that.”

There’s silence in the room for a few minutes except for Oz’s guitar. He’s playing something she almost recognizes, not a Dingoes song. Then he mutes the strings and drops the guitar into the stand by his bed. The noise makes Buffy start. Xander rolls away from her and goes over to Oz. He whispers something to him. Oz nods. The two of them come over to the bed and stand over her.

“We can give you what you want,” Oz says.

Buffy opens her mouth, then closes it again.

“Sex the way you need it,” Oz says, and shrugs, as if he doesn’t care whether she says yes or no.

Xander says, “We can do what he couldn’t.”

There’s a lot unsaid here. But she knows what they’re saying without putting it into words. They’re promising not to wuss out if she doesn’t either. She thinks over the offer. Think, no, wrong word. Her body’s already reacting, waking up, throbbing, just from the idea, way more than it had when she’d taken her clothes off for Parker. Her body has already said yes. But she doesn’t let herself yield, not yet.

“You’re like us,” Xander says. His eyes look strange. “Normal is never going to be enough.”

She’s always been able to smell the hyena in Xander, the wolf in Oz. It’s one of the reasons she kept turning Xander down. Scared. The Slayer scared of the animal. Which is stupid, because the Slayer can take them both if she wants. The Slayer’s part demon, if what Giles tells her is true, and that makes Buffy more like them than like regular people. Than like Parker. She’s not normal.

“Okay,” she says. “Let’s see if you can do it.”

Oz walks over to the bedroom door and slides the bolt shut. Xander’s behind her before she realizes it. He lifts her off the bed and stands her up. She lets him. His hands fumble with the laces that hold her shirt on. They come undone and her breasts are bare. Oz is pulling off her shoes. Buffy lifts her feet one at a time for him. He’s pulling her pants down, her thong with them, stripping her with no time wasted.

Xander grabs her wrists and holds them behind her back. Buffy almost fights back, then remembers not to. Though Xander’s got way more strength in his grip than she expected. If he keeps it up he’ll bruise her. That thought makes her cunt throb again. She’s so turned on it’s almost painful. Hours of making out and petting with Parker couldn’t do it, but being stripped naked by Oz and Xander does it in seconds flat.

“Nice,” says Oz. He’s looking at her breasts, then his gaze goes lower. He’s smiling faintly. Xander shifts his weight and kicks her feet wide apart.

“You’re ours. You belong to us,” Xander says. “Say it.”

Buffy wants to moan, but controls herself. “I’m yours. I belong to you.”

“We can do whatever we want with you.”

“You can do whatever you want with me.” And then she does moan, anticipating what they’ll do.

In the next second their hands are all over her, exploring her, stroking her, penetrating her, cupping her breasts, playing with her nipples.

“Make noise,” Xander says, in her ear. His voice is infinitely tender even as he’s leaving bruises on her wrists. “Moan for us. Let us know how we’re doing.”

Buffy moans, because it’s easy to moan when she’s this turned on. When Xander has fingers slipped up inside her. When Oz is pinching one nipple, the other, both at once. She arches her back and lets her head rest on Xander’s shoulder.

“She needs it rougher,” Xander says.

Oz finally pinches hard enough, cruelly hard, and Buffy feels it like a live wire running from breasts to cunt. If he keeps it up, she might come. It hurts, though. She struggles and almost pulls herself out of Xander’s grip. Oz lets go immediately and she slumps forward.

Xander makes her fold her arms behind her back. Oz undoes his belt buckle and pulls it out of his pants. She wonders for a second if Oz is going to whip her, but all he does with it is wind it around and and around her wrists and arms. He buckles it tight. Buffy tugs and realizes she’d have a hard time escaping the belt if she tried. That realization is the most exciting thing yet, and she moans and struggles, just enough to make the helplessness sink in.

Oz has taken his clothes off. She’s seen him naked before, after full moon nights. He’s a tight, wiry guy, not a lot of hair, and a penis that’s bigger than she expected. Even bigger when it’s hard and jutting out from his body, dark red against his white thighs.

“Did you blow Parker?” Oz asks.

“No. I’ve never done that with anybody.”

“Good. I’ll be the first.”

Xander presses hard on the back of her neck. Buffy sinks to her knees awkwardly. She hadn’t imagined her first blow job happening this way, definitely hadn’t imagined it would be Oz. Oz rubs his cock over her face, then finally holds it still in front of her mouth. Buffy kisses it. She hasn’t seen a lot of dicks in her life, but Oz’s is thicker than the ones she’s seen before. Definitely bigger than Parker’s.

“Good. Kiss it all over. And then lick. I like being licked.”

Buffy licks. It tastes okay, a little salty like sweat. Oz makes her lick his balls, too, around and under them. Buffy wonders if Willow did this, before she left, opened her mouth wide and took Oz’s cock all the way in. Heard him give instructions: use her tongue to lick as she sucks, relax her jaw, don’t let her teeth graze him. Then she wonders if Xander does it, on his knees in front of Oz. The image makes her throb. Buffy gets into it, lets him slide over her tongue, tries to take him deeper.

“Yeah,” says Oz, almost raggedly, and Buffy feels a moment of smug satisfaction. Then he starts moving his hips, thrusting in deeper and deeper, until he’s at the back of her throat. Buffy starts to gag, then gets control of it. Then he pulls back and lets her go back to licking. Her jaw is aching by the time he decides he’s had enough. He hasn’t come yet.

“Not bad,” Oz says. “Need more practice. Got me with the teeth a few times. Xander?”

“Yeah. We’ll take care of that.”

Xander’s unbuckling his own belt now, and Buffy wonders if her jaw can take doing that again. She supposes it’s going to have to take it. But Xander folds his belt in half and swings it casually in front of himself. He walks around behind her. Xander picks her up and sets her on the bed on her knees, facing away from him. Oz gets in front of her and makes her spread her knees wide. Wider, he says. Buffy obeys. Are they really going to whip her? She opens her mouth to tell them they don’t need the excuse, they can just whip her if they want to. They really can do what they want.

The sound of the belt hitting her ass surprises her so much that it takes a few seconds for the pain to register. Almost before she can draw in her breath the belt snaps against her again, this time lower down. Buffy sobs in a breath and waits for the next one.

“Harder,” Oz says. “See if you can make her cry.”

“My pleasure,” is Xander’s answer.

Buffy holds herself in place as best as she can, kneeling on the bed with her arms bound tight. Oz helps, holding her upright and giving her something to lean against. Something to writhe against when the belt comes down.

It hurts, God, yes, it hurts, more than anything ever has, but it’s turning her on more than anything ever has too. She needs it, craves it, wants it, begs Xander never to stop, to do it harder, harder. He obliges her. She jerks and groans each time the belt comes down, on and on and finally Xander’s got what he wanted from her. Finally the tears spill onto her face, as hot as the welts on her legs. Her nose is running and she’s anything but dignified, but Oz’s voice in her ear tells her she’s incredibly sexy like this. Oz holds her up, holds her still, makes sure the belt finds its mark every time. He’s got a hand on her cunt, fingers inside her.

He bites her neck hard, right on the scars where Angel bit her, closes his mouth on her skin and holds. The orgasm happens before Buffy realizes she’s anywhere near it. The room goes black around her and she thrashes so hard she shakes Oz off.

When she can see again, she’s cradled in Oz’s arms. Her face is resting on Oz’s knees, bony bare knees. Xander is next to them, leaning on his elbow. He’s naked now too, and he’s still holding his belt.

“That was great,” Oz says.

“I love watching girls come. The way their hips move.”

“The way their faces screw up and go all red.”

“I know other ways to make them do that.”

Oz laughs softly. The words sound cruel, but their hands on her aren’t, at least not that second. Oz is petting her hair. He pulls it up off her neck and Xander sits up. He wraps his belt around her neck and buckles it, just tight enough for her to feel it. Buffy doesn’t even blink.

“You look good in leather,” Xander says, and kisses her between her shoulder blades.

He gets off the bed. Buffy zones out, drifts, thinking about how good her ass and legs feel. Pain and sex, all mixed up. What she’s been looking for. She’s a freak after all, maybe. Then Oz is shaking her. “Wake up,” he says. They help her kneel with her ass in the air. Her face is pressed down against Oz’s thighs. He’s still stroking her gently.

She hears a condom packet rip open. Something nudges at her ass. Xander’s cock, slick and hot. He pushes against her, opening her up just a little bit. Another first time, Buffy thinks. First time coming without a vampire’s teeth in her throat; first time taking it in the ass. Another kind of pain. Xander holds himself still for a second, then forces his way inside. Buffy moans. It hurts and it feels good at the same time. Dirty and good. Xander’s moving in her ass, fucking her, in and out, penetrating a little further every time. It feels like he’s going to split her open, except then she feels her body relax around him. It still burns but it’s a sexual burn, a different kind of pain from the whipping, but also good. Feels nothing like Parker felt when he fucked her in front. She’s opened and filled in a way she’s never been before. She’s owned by Xander’s cock.

Xander moves again and this time Buffy pushes back to meet him. He’s all the way in. Buffy feels his thighs rub against hers. Her whipped legs are burning so hot that any touch makes her flinch. He leans over her back and whispers in her ear.

“You like my dick in your ass, Buff?”

“Yeah,” Buffy says and she doesn’t recognize her own voice.

“Tell me to fuck you. Beg me.”


Xander doesn’t move. Buffy tries moving her hips, but he holds her still, denies her the friction. “What do you want, Buffy?”

Buffy stumbles over it. It’s crude, okay, but it’s what he’s doing. If she can be fucked in the ass, she can say it, can’t she?

“Want you to fuck me,” she says, in a whisper.

“Where? Say it.”

“Fuck me in the ass. Please. Xander. Fuck my ass.” She starts begging in earnest, saying the words, and Xander rewards her by pulling out slowly, thrusting in hard. Buffy moans and loses the thread of language, resorts to saying his name over and over. Xander. Inside her.

Oz says, “Unless you really like the begging, I got something better for her mouth to do.”

“Be my guest,” says Xander.

“Her guest.”

Buffy opens obediently and lets Oz in. This time he doesn’t tell her what to do. He just takes her mouth. Fucks her mouth, as Xander fucks her ass. Buffy does her best to suck him, but it’s difficult. She’s finally losing track of everything. Only her body exists. She feels the stripes all over her legs, the cock in her ass, the cock in her mouth, the belt around her neck.

Oz thrusts himself deep, against the back of her throat, over and over. Buffy tries not to gag, tries to accept him. Oz grabs her hair and holds her head in place. He groans and her mouth fills with something bitter. She swallows around his cock.

Xander pulls her up, away from Oz, and reaches around to find her clit. He’s still fucking her, moving slow and steady, and she’s been so turned on for so long that two fingers touching her once is enough and she comes. Xander makes a satisfied sound and pinches her clit. Buffy shakes for him again. He doesn’t back off, doesn’t stop and she’s coming again, over and over, until Xander’s hand on her cunt is painful and she can only tremble.

But it’s not over, because Xander is moving inside her ass in earnest now, hard and fast, pounding her in search of his own orgasm. His hands digging into her hips are the only thing holding her up. Body, she’s a body, she’s flesh and blood, cunt and mouth and ass and nothing more. Not the one girl in all the world, not the world’s savior, not special, not anything at all. What a fucking relief it is.

She only notices when Xander comes because it stops and he’s not inside her any more. She protests and one of them slaps her on her bruised ass. Oz undoes the belt around her arms. Buffy whimpers and stretches them out, tries to get the circulation back. She collapses onto the bed, on her back. She feels like she’s just been in a brutal vamp fight, beaten bloody but victorious. Like she’s alive. Like her body is completely awake, even though it’s exhausted and she’s not sure she can move right now.

They’re next to her, now, one on each side. Oz pulls the blanket over them all. Buffy lets her head rest on his shoulder. Neither of them makes any move to undo Xander’s belt around her neck. Buffy raises her shaking hand to it and strokes it. She doesn’t want to take it off. She wants to leave it there as long as they’ll let her. Xander catches her eye and smiles at her. There’s a hyena in that smile, in the smell of his sweat.

“We’ll get you a more practical collar,” Xander says.

Oz says, “Mmm, yeah. Something we can use to tie you down.”

He’s also got a smile on his face, fainter than Xander’s but just as dangerous. Werewolf, hyena. Oz turns out the light but Buffy can still see them, and they can see her. They were right. Normal’s not enough, but they are.