The characters from the Buffyverse belong to Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy productions. I'm just borrowing them...

Buffy The Vampire Slayer: Ship Of Fools Part 4 (Ff,inc,anal)
by LL

There was no doubt it was wrong, but ever since Buffy had rescued her from the vampire Joyce couldn't stop thinking of Buffy's touch. It had only been a fleeting moment, a split-second mistake perhaps, but Joyce had felt suddenly that all was right in the world as Buffy's fingers had touched her.

She tried to push Buffy from her mind, but her daughter came back unbidden and each time she came back she was wearing less, and doing more. At first they had held hands, but now all Joyce could think about was naked Buffy straddling her, pushing a dildo into Joyce's cunt. With a moan Joyce reached under her pyjamas and began to rub at her pussy.

* * *

The alley way was dark, the bright lights of the city barely penetrating its gloomy interior. Behind a pile of rotting cardboard boxes Faith waited. She could hear the shambling movements of a tramp, for a few seconds he picked around for scraps in the large bin beside her. If he had turned round he'd have seen pale face staring at him. He didn't and with a muffled curse of disappointment he slammed the bin lid and continued on his way.

Again the alley went silent - far away the noises of the city beeped and honked, even though it was nearly midnight. Faith looked at her watch, the second hand seemed to tick with the slowness of a hibernating tortoise.

"Faith Lehane," the voice was quiet, but Faith could detect a Texas accent not yet faded into the homogenised accent of Los Angeles.

"You're right on time," Faith stepped from behind the boxes, lightly smiling as she saw the woman jump. She looked at the newcomer, a pretty face if quirky, wavy dark hair, which fell halfway, down her shoulders. At first glance she might have been taken for mousy, a geek more at home with books than people; at least until you saw the glint of her eyes and the tiny upward corners of her mouth that hinted at above normal determination, "Winifred Burkle I presume."

"Call me Fred," the woman relaxed, "Everyone else does."

"You wanted to meet me. Why?"

There was a pause from Fred as if she was considering her response, "We're loosing the war, you know."

"What war?" Faith was slightly irritated that the Texan hadn't answered her question.

There was a look of surprise on Fred's face; "Don't you watch the news? The one in the Gorgorth hell dimension and it'll spill over here."

Faith shrugged, "I've heard of it, it isn't my war. I lost my war a long time ago," there was a trace of bitterness in her voice, then she gave a sardonic smile, "Or it lost me."

"It could be your war," said Fred, she pulled out a business card, "If you ever get tired of trying to swim against the tide call me." She walked into the main street.

Faith stared at the business card for a moment, then dropped it to the floor. It fluttered into a puddle and her heel stamped it deeper it to the muddy mire at the bottom. She began to walk in the opposite direction to Fred, then paused and went back. Gingerly she picked up the card, wiped it dry and slid it into her inside pocket.

* * *

Hoisting open the window Buffy climbed into her bedroom. It was the Friday after she'd staked the vamp and she'd been out patrolling every night since. She hadn't come across any demons, but it felt damn good to be patrolling again. She dropped her stake on the bed and pulled off her T-shirt. Dawn was out with Janice and wouldn't be back to tomorrow and as it was way past midnight her Mom would be in bed asleep. Sitting on the edge of the bed Buffy kicked off her trainers, she hadn't felt so invigorated since the Watcher's Council had fallen. Okay, she'd have to keep her nocturnal wanderings secret, but that shouldn't be too hard and at least she was doing some good, making a stand against the pollution that pervaded the world.

Suddenly the door opened, framed in it stood her Mom, clad in a pair of lime green pyjamas, "What are you still doing up Buffy?"

Even as she spoke her eyes saw the wooden stake lying on the bed. Her expression faltered between fear and anger, "Buffy... you can't do this..."

Buffy nodded and stood back, letting her Mom's ticking off roll over her. Her mind wandered as she ignored the words. After a couple of minutes of pretending to listen to her Mom she thought she should bow her head in a show of repentance. It was then she noticed the damp spot over her Mom's slit. She sniffed, the odour of girl-cum was faint, but unmistakable. She looked up and noticed where her Mom's eyes were concentrated, not on her face as she assumed but on the black-bra which was holding her titties in place. With a start she realised her Mom wanted her. Buffy knew that if she didn't take control her Mom would ground her, and take steps to keep her in the house, stopping her from patrolling. Joyce opened her mouth to let loose another torrent of discipline - Buffy knew she had just seconds to act.

She took it.

"Mom - shut up," Buffy said.

Joyce was so surprised no words came out of her mouth, instead it just flapped open and closed like a goldfish out of water. Buffy stepped forward and forcefully kissed her. Joyce's hand tried to push her away, but Buffy reached up and pinioned them to her Mom's sides. Joyce continued to struggle for about a quarter of a minute, but Buffy easily held her arms in place. And then, like a light switching on, Joyce ceased to struggle and allowed Buffy's tongue in her mouth. Buffy probed deeper, pushing herself against her Mom's body. Joyce's tongue, originally limp, began to return Buffy's kisses, the two of them swirling each other's saliva in their mouths as their tongues probed back and forth.

Pulling back Buffy looked at her Mom's face; it was a mixture of surprise and desire, lust and shock.

"Buffy, I..."

Reaching behind herself Buffy unclipped her bra and let it drop to the floor. Joyce's voice tailed off and she looked at the two pert tits on display. Desire was swiftly becoming the preponderant expression, "You want to suck these, don't you Mom," to push away her Mom's remaining inhibitions Buffy swung from side to sound, her titties bouncing as she moved.


"Suck my titties, play with them Mom, I want you to lick them. Now!" Buffy again interrupted her Mom.

Joyce's head reached down and she began to move her lips over the erect nipples. Taking her by the head, Buffy backed down so she was sitting on the bed. She gave a groan of pleasure as Joyce's tongue darted out to lick at the teat, gingerly at first and then more daring, until Joyce was slobbering from one tit to the other, sucking in the flesh with great slurping groans. Buffy played with her Mom's curly hair for a few minutes, encouraging her to suck away. When she was sure Joyce wasn't go to move she reached down and pulled of her jeans. Joyce had to move to let them drop to the floor.

She looked at Buffy's white cotton panties, a damp patch over the slit.

"Have you finished with my tits?" asked Buffy. Her Mom didn't reply her gaze transfixed on the wet cotton and the mystery underneath. Buffy smiled and stroked her Mom's cheek, Joyce looked up an expression of adoration on her face, "You can pull of my panties if you want, though only if you're going to eat what's underneath."

The elastic scraped against Buffy's thighs as Joyce pulled off the panties and dropped them on the floor. The Milf's hands reached up and she pulled apart Buffy's pussy as she lowered her head down. Buffy reached down and took hold off the back, keeping her in place. Joyce didn't have the technique of Janice, but what she lacked in skill she more than made up for in enthusiasm. Her tongue burrowed deep into the hole, slurping away at any flesh it came in contact with. Buffy groaned and, keeping one hand on the back of her Mom's head, began to squeeze her naked tit with the other.

The first orgasm hit Buffy like a thunderbolt, it was a miracle her brain didn't explode or her nerve endings burst into flame, "Aaaarrggghhh," Buffy shook like an earthquake's epicentre was in her pussy.

Joyce didn't pause, but continued to tongue away, licking up the juice and lapping it down her throat. She was well connected to clit now and each thrust was like a tidal wave of pleasure. If Janice had kept her as dam that wasn't about to spill Joyce was anything but, Buffy felt a warm feeling growing in her and for the first time in her life she squirted as she came. The juice came as a deluge, flooding Joyce's mouth and covering her face, Buffy, closed her eyes and screamed in pleasure. When she opened them again, Joyce was looking up at her, girl cum covered her face, a female version of a facial; it dripped from her nose, from her lips, from her chins and soaked down onto her pyjama tops, a wet stain covering her tits. Buffy felt like a dog that had just marked its territory.

"Let's get this wet thing off you," said Buffy. There was a nod from Joyce and she began to unbutton her top. Buffy was less patient; she reached forward and tore the top open. A few buttons, torn from their fastenings, pinged across the room. Joyce's large titties bounced as they free. Reaching down Buffy ran her finger over the tattoo on her Mom's left tit, "You are such a slut aren't you, Mom?"

"I am for you," Joyce agreed. She gave a giggle as Buffy squeezed her naked tits, pushing the plump flesh together with her hands.

"I bet you're still horny," grinned Buffy. There was a nod from Joyce, Buffy let go off her tits and she stood out to wiggle out of her pyjama bottoms. She stood there naked, allowing Buffy to admire her body. Buffy could see where her own good looks came from, Joyce was a damn hot looking woman, her tits were large, but not oversized, her cunt was smooth and damp with lust, hardly a trace of cellulite ruined her thirty-eight year old frame. Buffy knew she was going to enjoy regular fucks with her Mom. Standing up she grabbed her Mom legs from behind, lifting her and dropping her onto the bed, "I'm going to fuck you now..."

"MMnnn," Joyce replied, she twisted over onto her back and spread her legs. Buffy almost choked with desire, she opened her wardrobe and brought out her brand new strap-on. She had only got it a few days ago and remained unused though not for long.

"Fuck me Buffy, fuck me hard," Joyce's voice was throaty with desire.

The bed squeaked as Buffy got on, she pulled her Mom's legs further apart, looking down with fascination as another sliver of juice appeared in the crack. Shaping her fingers in an inverted 'V' she pulled apart the lips, just the touch of her sent a quake through her Mom and passionate moan escaped the Milf's lips. Taking the dildo in her spare hand Buffy guided the rubber dick into her Mom's slot. As it entered the ridges ran against Joyce's flesh and she gave a series of little squeaks. Buffy let go off her Mom's pussy and pulled the Milf's legs up so they rested on her shoulders, she wrapped her arms round them so they'd remain in place.

"Fuck me Buffy, fuck me hard," her Mom repeated her earlier comment.

"I intend to," grinned Buffy and began to hammer away. Her previous fuck with Janice had given her confidence, so she had not compunction about ramming the cock deep and fast into her Mom's slit. Moving slightly with each thrust she gauged her Mom's reactions, until an extra loud shriek said she was dead on the clit. She slammed down harder, enjoying the feeling of being in total control and watching as her Mom seemed to loose all of hers. The Milf's body was trembling and she was clutching at the bedding, pulling it towards her like a drowning man reaching for a lifebelt. Her eyes were closed, but it wasn't to imagine she was being banged by someone other than her daughter as she continually shrieked out Buffy's name in a garbled, almost incoherent, string of messages. Cum slid from Joyce's cunt to mix with sweat and Buffy's own juice.

"Fuck... I...Buffy...I'm cumming," Joyce's back arched and the bed squeaked like a cacophony of mice chasing a piece of cheese. Her squeals of enjoyment reverberated around the room.

"I'm not nearly finished," grinned Buffy as she continued to slam into her quivering Mom. Joyce let out another scream of pleasure; her hands gripped and ungripped at the bedding. Buffy felt she was just getting into her stride, exerting herself enough to be enjoyable, but not so much she was going to collapse exhausted after giving her Mom just the one orgasm. Joyce's body was juddering under the pounding, her body soaked in sweat and cum.

They went through a second orgasm, and a third. Each one sending Joyce's screeching to high heaven. The impact she was having on her Mom was the biggest turn-on that Buffy had ever had; she was in control and her Mom was just her sexual plaything, a rag doll of lust. Finally she drew out, Joyce's eyes were glazed and she was murmuring, "Buffy... Buffy" repeatedly.

Buffy pulled back the bed clothes and helped her exhausted Mom under the covers. Then she pulled off the strap-on and clambered in beside her. She slid her arm under her Mom's naked body and pulled Joyce close to her. Gradually she fell asleep.

* * *

When she awoke the next morning Joyce could have almost thought it was a dream, a very enjoyable one, but a dream nonetheless. Except that she was in Buffy's room, she was naked and her equally nude daughter was slumbering pressed up against her. Gently Joyce disentangled herself from Buffy's arms and turned over to look at her. She was still asleep, her teenage face a picture of innocence and beauty. Joyce loved her, and she knew at that moment that Buffy was the one for her. It wasn't just the sex, though that had been the best she'd ever had, but the feeling of comfort - letting Buffy take control was so liberating, allowing her daughter to be on top made her so safe.

Sliding out of bed Joyce looked at the clock, there were still a few hours until Dawn got home. She padded over to her pyjama's lying discarded on the floor, the dampness of Buffy's juice had faded leaving only a small discoloration. Joyce held it to her nose and sniffed the erotic odour. Then she dropped the top again, with the buttons spread over the room it was ruined; she'd have to get a new pair - not that she resented that given the night she'd had.

Leaving the pyjamas on the floor Joyce padded downstairs to make breakfast. She had just finished the waffles when the kitchen door opened, "That is such a cute ass, better than coffee to start my day."

Swivelling her head Joyce smiled at Buffy, the teenager was almost as naked as Joyce. Almost, because whilst Joyce wasn't wearing anything Buffy had slid her strap-on over her naked twat. She wiggled her ass seductively at her daughter "Glad you like it."

"Mmmnn, I do," Buffy stepped behind Joyce and squeezed at her butt cheeks, groping the smooth flesh with her fingers.

Joyce moaned, straightening up she pushed her back into her daughter's tits. Buffy let go off her ass and moved her hands round to hold her tits, whilst simultaneously moving her lips to rub against the back side of Joyce's neck, "Did you enjoy last night?" murmured the teen barely moving her lips.

"Uh-huh," Joyce nodded, enjoying the feeling of Buffy's hard nipples pressed against her.

"Good," whispered Buffy and began to kiss Joyce's throat. Her hands moved slowly down the Milf's body, stroking the flesh like she was running her hands down silk. When she got to the cunt she stopped and ran a finger round the outside of the lips, Joyce shivered with pleasure. Then she gave a gasp. Buffy had moved her spare hand round and without any warning had pushed a finger up the Milf's ass. Joyce quickly got over the surprise and concentrated on enjoying Buffy's digit wiggling inside her.

"That's good, Buffy, finger your Mom's ass."

"I think it's ready for something bigger," Buffy gave Joyce's neck one last kiss before withdrawing her finger. The asshole didn't stay empty for long. Joyce could feel the tip of the dildo enter her. She gasped and willed herself to relax. Buffy pushed the cock in, slowly grating against the skin it length arrived within her. Joyce shuddered, partly at the pain, but mainly at the pleasure and with the knowledge Buffy was in control. She placed her hands on the table and allowed Buffy to take over her.

Joyce wasn't an anal virgin; she had been taken up the ass before. But never before had she had it so deep, or fast and rough. Nor had it ever been this pleasurable. Waves of pleasure surged through her body, ripping apart her organs and mixing them up in an explosion of desire.

"Take it Mom," Buffy pounded against her ass like a wrecking ball.

"I'm taking it Buffy," Joyce squealed, "I'm taking it all."

The pain was still there, like a red hot poker. It didn't matter. It was overlaid by a sense of euphoria, a series of the most intense orgasms that Joyce had ever had. Not many Mom's were ass-fucked by their daughter's over the kitchen table, but if they had felt like Joyce was feeling there would have been a lot more. Joyce was aware that her hands were so slippy from sweat she was sliding against the table surface and it was only Buffy's grip round her stomach that was preventing her from falling and having a nasty accident. The fact that she was in Buffy's hands, that only her daughter's strength was keeping her from smashing down onto the table edge added an extra frisson to Joyce's excitement.

She exploded in joy as another orgasm poured through her, cementing her body in explosion of nerve ending and quivering muscles. There was a final grunt from Buffy, she pulled out the cock and gently lowered Joyce so that the Milf head was on the table, her panting breath steaming across the fake wood surface.

"Can I see waffles?" said Buffy.

Joyce nodded. She was Buffy's.

* * *

"It's Sunday," Kate looked to see Anyanka standing in her office door. She had been so engrossed she hadn't even heard it open.

"I know," Kate replied.

Anyanka closed the door, walked over to the desk. She picked up the file Kate had been looking at, read the title and tossed it back on the desk. With a sigh she pulled up a chair and sat down, "I thought you were told Kimble's murder had nothing to do with Faith."

"I was," Kate leant back in her chair and looked at her captain, "Funny thing is I believe it. Slayer's don't kill humans, and whilst she has the strength, she doesn't have the sadism to reach into someone's chest and pull apart someone's ribcage while they're still alive."

"Good, so you're not trying to fit her up for it," Anyanka deliberately let her eyes fix on the file.

Not sure whether it was to please or irritate the vengeance demon, or both, Kate reached across and opened the file, "I don't think she did this one, but she's probably done plenty more. Valok - a Deathwok Clan demon, shot to death three blocks from Darla's flat; Mike Mulder - werewolf, suffered a fatal accident with a silver bullet - Faith's credit card was used twenty minutes earlier less than a mile away; three Rwasundi demons - blown to smithereens in a 'gas leak', guess who was spotted smoking on CCTV just a few minutes before."

"I'm assuming these were all investigated, if Faith was involved she'd be dealt with," Anyanka folded her arms as if that was the end of the conversation.

It wasn't the end, Kate leant forward and pushed the file towards Anyanka, "Yeah they were all investigated - all by Mr Kimble."

There was a pause, before Anyanka spoke again, "Not a surprise that the Department for Non-Human Sentient Relations would be involved in investigating murders of non-human Sentients."

"It stinks," said Kate, "and you know it."

Anyanka stood up, "Carry on digging, but if anyone asks, I don't know a thing."

* * *

Los Angeles basked in the afternoon sun. Not that Darla could see it, the UV glass that protected her from the rays was so think that all she could see were the almost shapeless blobs of skyscrapers and a dull orange glow, so faint it was almost invisible, of the sun. She continued to look though, it had been so long that she had seen unfiltered daylight that even this poor substitute was better than nothing. Outside there would be people walking in parks, sunbathing in their back yards, cheering their teams on in stadiums. Darla wondered if they knew how lucky they were.

The intercom on her desk buzzed, the precise and well modulated tones of her secretary coming through seconds later, "Halzaar, Gorgorth ambassador to the UN."

For a brief second Darla continued to view the cityscape then she walked over to her desk and pressed the intercom, "Send him in."

The door opened and Halzaar waddled in, like most Gorgorth he had thin short legs which were in direct comparison to long, muscular arms which reached almost to the floor. He must have been in his hundreds, Gorgorths having a propensity to fatten once they past their first century. Darla stood up and motioned him to a chair, "Ambassador, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

The Ambassador sat down, his legs not quiet reaching the floor. He honoured Darla with a smile, his sharp pointed teeth yellowed with mould, "The war - those reptiles the Falanjoid have taken another dimension portal from us. If this goes on we'll be cut off."

Darla spread her hands in an expression of helplessness, "I sympathise, though you did attack them first."

Halzaar snorted, "Spare me your words vampire - you don't know the mean of the word sympathy. I was warned you had charm," Darla bowed her head in acknowledgement of the back-handed compliment, "But we do not need your words, but humans - humans who will fight and die for the glory of the Gorgorth"

"More grist to the mill," murmured Darla quietly, then she spoke louder, "surely if your allies need to provide more men you should speak to them. As an esteemed ally you could easily arrange an audience at the UN."

The Gorgorth snorted mucus from its nose, Darla knew that it was laughing. It wiped the mucus away and then licked it, "Those lickspittles - everyone knows, even the humans, that the real power resides with the Department for Non-Human Sentient Relations; of which you are a council member."
"We are but humble functionaries - tools of the democratic process," Darla didn't go to the bother of putting on an affronted look, she didn't think that the Gorgorth had enough grasp of body language to tell the difference between that and, say, boredom.

Halzaar snarled, "Do not take me for a fool vampire. We need more humans, they can come willingly or not. The choice is there. I am going on a vacation to Sunnydale for a few days, visit some of the old sites before the fall of the humans. I want your decision when I come back."

Darla ignored the threat, instead she just nodded, "I am sure we can come to some arrangement," she stood up and hoped Halzaar would take the hint.

He did, standing up he strode to the door without even offering to shake the Vampire's hand, but he paused and turned as it opened, "I have also heard rumours that the Department has been talking to those bastard Falanjoid."

Darla didn't bother to deny it, "On purely routine administrative matters, nothing to do with your war." It seemed to satisfy Halzaar for he grunted and left.

Darla turned and looked out the window. Below her the city hummed with life. For a few minutes she watched the movement, like ants crawling round their hive, her expression unreadable. She waited until she saw the white blob of Halzaar leave the building's entrance and hail a cab. With a sigh she turned and hit her intercom, "Marcie, get me Fred Burkle."

"Yes Mistress Darla," the receptionist was a model of emotionless efficiency.

A few minutes later the phone buzzed, Darla picked it up, "Winifred Burkle on the line," Marcie informed her, there was a brief burst of static as the call was transferred.

"Fred here."

"This is Darla. I've got a killing job for you..."
_ _ _

As always if you have any views on this or any other of my stories, e-mail me at: [email protected]


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