Title: Kinklet #2
Author: Adarog
Pairings: Buffy/Giles
Summary: Giles blindfolds Buffy, but for a different reason this time.
Rating: FRAO
Word count: 1403
Notes: Mild kink: sensory deprivation. Thanks to
![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
antennapedia for beta and
kivrin for general encouragement.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I claim no ownership and am making no money.
"You blindfolded me once before, you know. And there wasn't really much point to it."
"This will be different, and much more fun." Giles settled the improvised blindfold over his lover's face: a black silk sleep mask held down by a clean sweatband he wore when jogging. It was not much to look at, but it was not likely to slip if Buffy moved, and more importantly, it did not cover much of her face. He wanted to see her face.
Buffy settled back onto the pillows, her look skeptical, but her body soft and relaxed. Good. She trusted him, and without trust, this little game would bring no pleasure. Giles shed his briefs and sat down on the bed dressed in nothing but an old broadcloth shirt with frayed cuffs. At his feet was a bag of tricks.
The first trick he pulled out of the bag was a feather. It was a turkey feather he had bought at a craft store, undyed, brown with a wide tip. He laid it between Buffy's breasts, then drew it slowly down to her navel.
"That's easy, Giles--that's a feather! And I'm *not* ticklish."
"I'm not trying to tickle you." He used the same soft, husky voice he would have used if he'd been touching her with his hands or kissing her breasts. He drew the feather down the top of one leg to the knee, then back up the same territory on the other leg. She was still, suppressing a smile, but the tiny hairs on her skin stood up. Giles brushed the feather over a nipple, which pebbled instantly.
"Oh!"
He stroked her breasts with the feather until both nipples were beautifully stiff, and she was no longer completely still. Time for a new trick.
The next thing he took out of the bag was a small round orange pad with an abrasive surface, made for scrubbing pots. Used with the same pressure that scrubbing a pot required, it would damage sensitive skin, but that was not his intent. He drew it lightly but not teasingly over the instep of her foot (such a small, delicate foot), then more firmly along the sole.
"That feels rough...." Giles noticed she did not try to identify it. He brushed the pot scrubber over small areas of her skin, randomly. Front of the knee. Inside of the forearm. Point of the opposite elbow. Under the curve of her breast.
He could tell she had been trying to keep still, but the rough texture on the underside of her breast was too much: She wiggled. Beautiful. Watching her carefully, Giles brushed the scrubber across one nipple, quickly and a little harder than before. Buffy inhaled sharply, breasts and thighs quivering. Oh yes, beautiful.
He put aside the scrubber and took out the feather again, using it to stroke the insides of those strong, lovely thighs until they parted further. He got a faint whiff of her scent then, the first hint of arousal. He continued stroking her with the feather, coming close to her pubic curls but never quite touching them, and at the same time reached into the bag with his other hand for a new toy.
Buffy went still again when the tip of the steel knitting needle touched her navel. She held quite still, with that Slayer poise that could erupt into action, as he drew that small cool point down through her curls to touch her clitoris. It came forth wet, and Giles licked at the familiar taste and grinned. Really, it was amazing what one could find at craft stores. Knitting needles came in all sorts and sizes....
The tension in her muscles released just barely as he circled the aureole of a breast with the tip. A desperate person with sufficient strength could puncture the skin with this needle, but it was by no means so sharp that it was likely to do harm without volition behind it. Buffy would know, surely, that it was not a knife; he had not wanted to use a knife. But with the blindfold on, she could not be entirely certain what was touching her. Judging by the look on her face, she was struggling not to demand the information. That was the point of this game, really: To surrender to the not knowing, not controlling; to let the mind drift and just rest in the sensations. It had never been easy for Giles, but he had discovered it was worth the effort. He hoped Buffy would make that discovery now.
Her hands curled and released, curled and released, but she did not ask questions, or tell him to stop. He alternated between touching her with the knitting needle and with his bare hand, stroking with cool metal, rubbing or pinching lightly with his fingers. He kept this up until her breathing was fast and shallow, her thighs spread wider, until her head was tossing on the pillow--then dropped the needle and pressed the vibrator to her with both hands.
Buffy cried out, back arching. Grinning, Giles twisted the vibrator to a higher speed and slid it down her slick soft lips. Buffy sobbed. He flicked the vibe to the highest setting and slid it all the way inside.
His lover writhed, thrashed, cried out, and whimpered pathetically when he withdrew it. "Did you come, darling?"
"Uh-huh." Of course she had.
"Do you want more?"
Buffy licked her lips. "Please...."
Giles touched the vibrator to those delightful lips. Her nostrils flared. "If you taste yourself, you can have some more attention." He did not mention that that "attention" would not be from the vibrator.
He watched her lick the moisture from the vibrator and remembered dozens of times when she had licked his cock like that. His cock, incidentally, was nearly rubbing against his belly with eagerness, but he wanted to provoke her to come a few more times before giving in to his own desire.
"Good girl." The huskiness of his voice betrayed that desire; she must know that he was just as aroused as she was. As he had promised, he turned the vibrator on again and played it over her clit, which made her squirm delightfully. But once again he was retrieving his next trick with the other hand.
"Oh!"
Another cry of surprise as the head of the dildo touched her cunt. Buffy drew up her knees, moaning, and Giles eased the vibrator away and the dildo forward. Buffy relaxed, murmuring wordlessly, as the dildo glided deeper. He'd bought this weeks ago, before they'd even discussed this game, or toys in general; hoping he might use it on her, hoping she might be persuaded to use it on him. It was longer and thicker than his cock, and he took his time putting it in, watching the absorption on his lover's face, the quivering of her muscles.
"Oh, Giles... oh, God, that's not *you*?"
"No...." He brushed a finger over her clit and watched her whole body quake silently. "And it's not the vibrator either. Do you like it?"
"Y--yeah."
He began to withdraw the dildo, as slowly and carefully as he had inserted it. She breathed in short puffs, her hips tilting forward. "I don't think you want to let this go." The head of it rested once again between her wet folds. "More?"
She swallowed hard. "Yes."
He thrust it back in, revelling in her hoarse cry of satisfaction, the way she bucked up into the thrust. He fucked her steadily with the heavy dildo for several long minutes, glorious for her, apparently, agonizing for him, as another part of his body longed to take the place of the toy. At last Giles could bear it no longer; tossing the dildo aside, he settled between his lover's thighs and picked up a fresh rhythm with his cock.
Buffy laughed and moaned at the same time, her muscles squeezing him tight. "Oh, yeah, dildo's good--but--not like you, oh, Giles--"
He was too lost in his own pleasure to anticipate her next move: pulling off the blindfold and rolling him onto his back. But he had no complaints.
"So," Buffy said, presently, "you think we could try this again sometime with *you* wearing the blindfold?"
"Of course," Giles said, stifling a contented yawn. "But you'll have to come up with your own bag of tricks."
