Ms INVINCIBLE
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Bitch, Invincible free porn video
Bitch, Invincible
[Sequel to Girl, Invisible]
It had been a whim, mostly, something to get under B’s skin. Kinda ironic really, since she’d been wearing B’s skin at the time.
After getting to know her new body very well — she’d come three times at the thought of fucking B’s cunt with her fingers alone — she rolled out of bed, still bare-assed naked, and went into the hallway.
She had been on her way to the kitchen to dig up something to eat when she happened to glance into the k!d’s room. She was all snuggled up for beddy-bye, a brown and black stuffed dog clutched tightly to her chest, slightly too-small flannel pj’s riding up to expose her navel. When Faith entered the room, surprised blue eyes popped open.
‘What the hell?’ she thought, and slid into bed with B’s little s!s. Nothing like a little quality time between siblings, she always thought. Then again, she was sure the brat had never looked at B like this before.
Well, it was time little s!s learned a thing or two…
The fun hadn’t lasted, of course. B’s cardboard-cut out of a boyfriend had gone all freaky on her, B got her body back, and then Angel just had to turn those goddamned puppy eyes on her, and she crumbled and turned herself in.
* * *
Faith had taken to prison like a duck to ice hockey.
Bondage-related kinks aside, Faith had never been one for restraints, restrictions, or rules, and the routine of prison jarred Faith’s nerves like nothing else. Not even B on one of her little morality kicks chafed like being told when to sleeep and what to eat and how to dress and where to go. It ate away at what little self-control Faith possessed, decaying the fetters that held slayer-strength in check, beckoning the darkness within to emerge. It was a constant struggle; Faith’s instincts could pinpoint each weapon, each guard, and every possible threat.
It would be so easy.
Her daily test came at 2 ‘o clock each afternoon. Full from home-made lunches that consisted of more than watery gruel, stale bread and stagnant water, the guards would get drowsy and complacent while waiting for the shift change at three. It took all of Faith’s strength to keep from snapping their fat, lazy necks.
But each time she felt the resentment build, each time she felt the pulse of vi0lence itching beneath her skin, she remembered the last time she’d felt that way: facing off with B in her own body, and how easy it was to forget it was Buffy she was fighting.
* * *
When the warden informed her of a scheduled conjugal visit in three days’ time, she’d been shocked, to say the least. Her immediate thoughts went to Angel, but she couldn’t k!d herself – if Angel was going to risk a happy, it’d be with the real slayer, not with a pathetic washed-up convict like herself. For a while, she’d even entertained the idea that it was some sort of plot by that law firm to give her shit about not putting a stake through Angel’s chest. For three days she was distracted — almost to the point of losing her lunch to a punk-assed whale of a woman named Rhonda on Thursday — wondering just who would walk through that door.
The last person she’d expected was the k!d, and yet there she was: Little Miss Muffet had crawled right into the spider’s web and was begging for more.
She leered at the k!d, ready to start shucking her scratchy prison-issued clothes, but the look in those sad blue eyes stopped her dead in her tracks.
She knew that look; she saw it every day when she looked in a mirror.
Something inside her trembled, and suddenly she felt more naked then she’d ever been.
It was too damn much. She couldn’t take that look, so she did the only thing she could do: Plunging her head under Dawn’s skirt, she hid between milky thighs.
* * *
No matter how many push-ups she did, no matter how many bitches she decked or guards she cursed, Faith hadn’t been able to get Dawn’s visit off her mind.
They’d fucked, of course — k!d really did have slayer stamina — but then, they’d talked, like real lovers or some shit, and Dawn’s babbling confession about keys and hell dimensions and gifts she wished could be taken back had left Faith concerned…
…and confused.
No one had ever talked to Faith like that — like she… cared, or like they cared, or like they wanted her to care. When Dawn had left, pressing a sweet, innocent — even after all they’d done — kiss against Faith’s lips, she’d been unable to do anything except sink into that innocence and take it as her own.
Months later, she could still taste raspberry lip gloss on her lips.
* * *
She should have known the k!d would change.
When she arrived at SunnyD after her near-decapitation and subsequent breakout, she expected the same gawky, awkward teenage girl that she’d held for so long in her memories. But her first glimpse of Dawn had Faith clenching her thighs and licking her lips.
Long, coltish legs had gotten longer and leaner, small, mouth-sized breasts had filled out — she knew instantly how they’d fit against her palms — and those innocent blue eyes carried a sultriness that hadn’t been there before.
Faith couldn’t look.
And she couldn’t look away.
So she fucked Wood.
She came close to fucking Spike.
And she’d probably have fucked Xander if the demon chick hadn’t snatched him up for one last slap and tickle before the big apocalyptic throw-down.
She stayed away because she knew that the instant she gave in, that first press of those sweet, fuckable lips against her own, and she’d be lost.
And Faith couldn’t get lost.
Not Faith.
She was a slayer. She was invincible.
She wasn’t made for that sort of shit.
That was B’s sort of deal.
So she avoided Dawn Summers. Her life had depended on it.
But when she awoke to a familiar weight on her chest, knobby knees pinning her hair to the bed and a curtain of long dark hair blocking out the world, slayer-strength was sapped and she was unable and unwilling to fight.
When the kitten showed her claws, insisting there be no more fucking around, all she could do was nod.
She’d never been monogamous; no one had ever asked her to be.
And when Dawn’s lips touched her own, Faith felt something inside melt…
…so she panicked, and pushed Dawn away.
Heart thundering in her chest, she choked out the one thing that always seemed to matter when things became important.
“I’m not Buffy.”
Dawn’s gaze was serious.
“Neither am I, lover.”
Hours later, they were still wrapped together — limbs entwined, lips swollen and sore, thighs sticky and wet.
And just before the sun broke the horizon, Faith laid her ear against Dawn’s heart, finally falling into sleeep in the embrace of her girlfriend.
They could say that now. Everyone knew they would.
They were happy, and that is all that mattered.
And Faith was monogamous with her all throughout their lives together into old age.
Fin
[Sequel to Girl, Invisible]
It had been a whim, mostly, something to get under B’s skin. Kinda ironic really, since she’d been wearing B’s skin at the time.
After getting to know her new body very well — she’d come three times at the thought of fucking B’s cunt with her fingers alone — she rolled out of bed, still bare-assed naked, and went into the hallway.
She had been on her way to the kitchen to dig up something to eat when she happened to glance into the k!d’s room. She was all snuggled up for beddy-bye, a brown and black stuffed dog clutched tightly to her chest, slightly too-small flannel pj’s riding up to expose her navel. When Faith entered the room, surprised blue eyes popped open.
‘What the hell?’ she thought, and slid into bed with B’s little s!s. Nothing like a little quality time between siblings, she always thought. Then again, she was sure the brat had never looked at B like this before.
Well, it was time little s!s learned a thing or two…
The fun hadn’t lasted, of course. B’s cardboard-cut out of a boyfriend had gone all freaky on her, B got her body back, and then Angel just had to turn those goddamned puppy eyes on her, and she crumbled and turned herself in.
* * *
Faith had taken to prison like a duck to ice hockey.
Bondage-related kinks aside, Faith had never been one for restraints, restrictions, or rules, and the routine of prison jarred Faith’s nerves like nothing else. Not even B on one of her little morality kicks chafed like being told when to sleeep and what to eat and how to dress and where to go. It ate away at what little self-control Faith possessed, decaying the fetters that held slayer-strength in check, beckoning the darkness within to emerge. It was a constant struggle; Faith’s instincts could pinpoint each weapon, each guard, and every possible threat.
It would be so easy.
Her daily test came at 2 ‘o clock each afternoon. Full from home-made lunches that consisted of more than watery gruel, stale bread and stagnant water, the guards would get drowsy and complacent while waiting for the shift change at three. It took all of Faith’s strength to keep from snapping their fat, lazy necks.
But each time she felt the resentment build, each time she felt the pulse of vi0lence itching beneath her skin, she remembered the last time she’d felt that way: facing off with B in her own body, and how easy it was to forget it was Buffy she was fighting.
* * *
When the warden informed her of a scheduled conjugal visit in three days’ time, she’d been shocked, to say the least. Her immediate thoughts went to Angel, but she couldn’t k!d herself – if Angel was going to risk a happy, it’d be with the real slayer, not with a pathetic washed-up convict like herself. For a while, she’d even entertained the idea that it was some sort of plot by that law firm to give her shit about not putting a stake through Angel’s chest. For three days she was distracted — almost to the point of losing her lunch to a punk-assed whale of a woman named Rhonda on Thursday — wondering just who would walk through that door.
The last person she’d expected was the k!d, and yet there she was: Little Miss Muffet had crawled right into the spider’s web and was begging for more.
She leered at the k!d, ready to start shucking her scratchy prison-issued clothes, but the look in those sad blue eyes stopped her dead in her tracks.
She knew that look; she saw it every day when she looked in a mirror.
Something inside her trembled, and suddenly she felt more naked then she’d ever been.
It was too damn much. She couldn’t take that look, so she did the only thing she could do: Plunging her head under Dawn’s skirt, she hid between milky thighs.
* * *
No matter how many push-ups she did, no matter how many bitches she decked or guards she cursed, Faith hadn’t been able to get Dawn’s visit off her mind.
They’d fucked, of course — k!d really did have slayer stamina — but then, they’d talked, like real lovers or some shit, and Dawn’s babbling confession about keys and hell dimensions and gifts she wished could be taken back had left Faith concerned…
…and confused.
No one had ever talked to Faith like that — like she… cared, or like they cared, or like they wanted her to care. When Dawn had left, pressing a sweet, innocent — even after all they’d done — kiss against Faith’s lips, she’d been unable to do anything except sink into that innocence and take it as her own.
Months later, she could still taste raspberry lip gloss on her lips.
* * *
She should have known the k!d would change.
When she arrived at SunnyD after her near-decapitation and subsequent breakout, she expected the same gawky, awkward teenage girl that she’d held for so long in her memories. But her first glimpse of Dawn had Faith clenching her thighs and licking her lips.
Long, coltish legs had gotten longer and leaner, small, mouth-sized breasts had filled out — she knew instantly how they’d fit against her palms — and those innocent blue eyes carried a sultriness that hadn’t been there before.
Faith couldn’t look.
And she couldn’t look away.
So she fucked Wood.
She came close to fucking Spike.
And she’d probably have fucked Xander if the demon chick hadn’t snatched him up for one last slap and tickle before the big apocalyptic throw-down.
She stayed away because she knew that the instant she gave in, that first press of those sweet, fuckable lips against her own, and she’d be lost.
And Faith couldn’t get lost.
Not Faith.
She was a slayer. She was invincible.
She wasn’t made for that sort of shit.
That was B’s sort of deal.
So she avoided Dawn Summers. Her life had depended on it.
But when she awoke to a familiar weight on her chest, knobby knees pinning her hair to the bed and a curtain of long dark hair blocking out the world, slayer-strength was sapped and she was unable and unwilling to fight.
When the kitten showed her claws, insisting there be no more fucking around, all she could do was nod.
She’d never been monogamous; no one had ever asked her to be.
And when Dawn’s lips touched her own, Faith felt something inside melt…
…so she panicked, and pushed Dawn away.
Heart thundering in her chest, she choked out the one thing that always seemed to matter when things became important.
“I’m not Buffy.”
Dawn’s gaze was serious.
“Neither am I, lover.”
Hours later, they were still wrapped together — limbs entwined, lips swollen and sore, thighs sticky and wet.
And just before the sun broke the horizon, Faith laid her ear against Dawn’s heart, finally falling into sleeep in the embrace of her girlfriend.
They could say that now. Everyone knew they would.
They were happy, and that is all that mattered.
And Faith was monogamous with her all throughout their lives together into old age.
Fin
Safiya
- 15.06.2021
- 28
- 0
