Title: My Monster Tara
Author: psimetis
E-mail: psimetis@hotmail.com
Spoilers: Season 3
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: vampire Tara/Willow
Characters: Vamp Tara, Willow, Slayer Buffy, Watcher Giles, Xander, Cordelia, Oz, Spike
Disclaimer: All characters of BtVS and its universe are all rights and owned by Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon. This is a fan to fan appreciative effort made for absolutely no profit.

Summary: Alt Season 3: A Series of drabbles and vignettes about captured pet Willow and her vampire mistress, Tara, Dru’s daughter. Angst, S/M, D/s

Warnings: DISCIPLINING, spanking of the bare Willow-bottom, absence of the Willow pants (or skirt) and panties, slightly Psycho Soul Tara

Author’s Note: Hey, drabbles! They get the story done and outta here. Enjoy!

* * *


MY MONSTER TARA

‘Dru’s Daughter’


Willow wears a slim, soft leather choker with a lock. It’s pretty. Even Willow, with her fashionless sense, could see that.

Tara never puts a leash to it, unless she deems Willow very bad.

She hasn’t gone to school in ages, she’s not sure if her parents know she’s missing. Spike keeps Buffy too busy. Dru’s daughter ignores everything else and plays with her--exclusively.

“Pretty Pet,” she’d say, blue eyes large, deep, and cold. She’d touch Willow.

“Hands,” Willow would squeak, blushing, squirming, then writhing. “Ah.”

Mistress likes the sounds she makes.

“Special baby,” she’d smile, her mouth suddenly beautiful and lopsided.



‘Bad Girl’


A vase lay shattered on the floor. The keys that had been successfully stolen lay tossed in a corner. Tara used her stern hand directly on Willow’s bare ass, having pulled her panties down. She only paused to wipe some blood away that had trickled into her eyes.

“Bad, Bad, Bad,” she chastised with each hard, loud smack, and Willow’s face was as red as her flaming butt. She cried too.

Mistress then set her right and shook her, staring hard into her tearful eyes.

“Should I lock you in the closet?” she suggested, picking her pet up and moving to do just that. Willow screamed, frightened, and struggled. “Do you want to be hit with more than a belt? Do you want to visit the woodshed? Do you know what fathers do to little girls in woodsheds?

“Do you know what Mummy or Spike would do to you?” Tara then admonished, putting Willow before her again. “This is for being stupid, as well as bad.” And she pushed her pet into the closet, and shut the door.



‘Meanie’


Willow refused to look at or speak to Mistress when she let her out of the closet. She might be a prisoner, but she still had her pride!

When Willow refused to eat the food Mistress had brought, Tara spanked her again. And she lost her underwear and skirt too.

Willow wept and tried to cover herself with her t-shirt even as she finally ate what Tara fed her.

Tara gave her a tissue. “Blow your nose,” she ordered, and wiped away Willow’s snot and tears.



‘When It Happened, She Didn’t Know It Happened’


No one knew about Dru’s new daughter.

They had expected Spike, ever flashy and rude.

No one saw the dark blonde, silent and dreamy eyed, floating like a soft, deadly feline on the edges.

Willow saw her only once, at the Bronze. Even Oz couldn’t help settle the strange feelings she had in the presence of the other girl.

Unlike Angelus, Dru’s new daughter wasted no time in getting what she wanted.

Willow saw her again on her room’s balcony. She had no intention of going to her! The French doors flew open and the vampire drew her to her beckoning arms with magic.

If she hadn’t been so frightened by whoever this was, Willow would have been in teen girl awe.



‘Mistress’


“Where’s your Mistress,” Spike had brusquely said to her once. Otherwise, the bleach head never really spoke to her, unlike Dru, who Willow would rather didn’t chat with her, at all, because--eyeballs! Dru would talk about eyeballs, and that was ooky.

Tara had never told her to call her ‘Mistress’, but somehow Ira and Sheila’s well educated, liberal-minded daughter got that term stuck like a brainwashing in her head. Willow would always wonder: was she in thrall?

Just then, the vampire’s pretty voice floated down the hall outside the shut bedroom door--speaking to someone. She’s home! Willow tried to straighten up the room a little more, at least as far as she could reach with her shackled ankle. If the room were tidy, perhaps Mistress would give Willow her panties and skirt back.



‘What’s Mine’


Mummy belonged to Spike, it was immutable.

To Spike, anyway.

Tara was not competitive. Somehow she knew she’d find someone of her own. Killing past the time, but to have someone to play with, to cuddle.....one night, while Spike was doing whatever he was doing in this interesting, Hellmouth town, she saw the little, slip of a girl with the aura of sleeping power and the dark potential, that innocent face and eyes and hair......

“She is the Slayer’s best friend!!” Spike had roared at Tara.

Tara merely held her new possession close, smiling at the pained squeal her affectionate embrace prompted.

“Not anymore,” she said gleefully.

Her new plaything was lots and lots of fun. And Mummy said she could keep her, so there, Spike.



‘Context’


How come flesh and, and, s. e. x., seem so....

How come it seems so right?

The body learns stuff, and wants.....stuff, but it’s really all wrong. Dirty, maybe. Disgusting, especially, because this is with an undead, very evil, monster-type person, and Willow could, but won’t, imagine what Xander would say.

It should make Willow sad, or even angry, but Tara would kiss her, touch her, hold her, say that she was pretty, say how good she was, offer her body and her breasts and make Willow feel like a treasure. Other times, she’d fire Willow up with her touches, and with her dirty talk, and with her mouth doing ummmm, that, and make her respond like, like, like, this was what they were made for.

I don’t want to like this, Willow would think to herself, when her body would come to peace and completeness once again, in the strangely safe haven of Tara’s arms.

At times like this, her hesitant mouth would seek succor. The vampire would hold her to her breast, and Willow would suckle softly and wonder about the context of all of this.



‘The Talk’


“You’ve, you’ve never messed with my head...I think, unless I’m in thrall now,” Willow mentioned, as she watched Mistress pack their things. “And you protect me from Spike, and Dru, and stuff. I can almost. I feel like...”

Tara just glanced at her and continued packing.

“I just,” Willow continued anxiously, playing a little with the chain between her manacles. “I was wondering...could you maybe, stop killing people? Then...y’know. Less attention, less trouble...less.....evil.”

“I gotta eat,” Tara declared. She shut a suitcase.

“But! Then, y’know, less of the Slayer m-maybe coming after you? For kidnapping her best friend?” Willow asked hopefully.

“We’re going to Mexico!” Tara announced instead, with some satisfaction, as she shut another suitcase. Willow wasn’t sure what was going on, but apparently things weren’t looking good for Spike again (yay, Buffy!), so Tara was going to split town and meet up with her Family at another time.

“I just,” Willow said desperately. “I just want--I can’t stay with you like this!”

Tara attached the leash to Willow’s pet collar. She ran her hand through Willow’s hair, an absentminded gesture of comfort.

“I know,” she said, gazing into Willow’s eyes. “But you’ll survive.”



‘Parting Is Sweet Sorrow’


She should have known that the Scoobies would come through, after all. With Spike out of the way, Buffy could finally take on Tara. In the ironic nick of time.

Willow had never felt so frightened to be rescued. Buffy smashed Tara against the getaway car. Tara knocked the Slayer’s block nearly right off in return, Willow saw Giles and Xander ready with crossbows and Oz was trying to drag her away, and there was Cordelia too--

“STOP!” Willow screamed. “STOP! DON’T HURT HER!”

“Is this the thrall?” she vaguely heard Cordelia complain. And then, in just that instant, Willow saw Tara’s magic detonate.

It sent Giles, Xander, and Buffy sprawling--and Cordelia. Oz still held Willow firm. As Buffy regained her feet, Willow caught Tara’s eyes and knew she wouldn’t try for her, by killing half her friends.

“Stay good,” Tara said to her, pointing, even as her body moved to leave. “Don’t help the Slayer anymore, and stay alive.”

And then she was gone, fleeing into the night.

Her friends managed to remove the restraints, but Willow wouldn’t let them touch her choker.



‘The Mistake’


She could feel her out there, in the night, keeping an eye on her, and it was because of their special connection.

She was afraid for her; she was afraid that Buffy would get lucky and finally stake Tara.

And Willow knew she could make this easier, if she went to her now, gave up this pretense of going back to a semi-normal life where Oz really wasn’t enough anymore, where Xander’s relationship with Cordelia was making her feel betrayed and bitter, and where Buffy....Buffy was the Slayer, and just couldn’t understand.

But Buffy had understood when it had come to Angel. And then Angelus. And Tara was not Angelus, but still. Still with the killing of people, which was bad.

Willow found an Orb of Thesula.



‘Not Enough Sorries Will Cut It’


Tara knew what Willow was about to do, but by then it was too late.

Willow began the spell in her room. Cordelia helped once again, and this time, Xander too. Tara leapt to Willow’s bedroom balcony and Buffy fought her there.

The battle fell to the Rosenberg lawn, and then the Soul rushed through Willow.

The scream from the lawn wasn’t of pain or horror. It was pure, frightening anguish.

“MOMMMAAAA!” Tara screamed up into night sky, reaching as if she’d become lost--irretrievable. “MOMMMAAAAAAA!!!”

“Good lord,” Giles whispered on the lawn, his face actually horrified.

Willow looked down from her balcony at her suffering, grieving vampire, and did not understand.



‘Still Sorry’


Tara lay in chains in the Rosenberg basement.

“Please eat,” Willow would say, holding out cups of blood. Human blood. She should have bought her pig, or cow. But she couldn’t. She had lived in a vampire household. She understood that much.

“I’m sorry daddy. I’m sorry daddy. I’m sorry Donnie,” Tara would whisper, her wet eyes so wide and unseeing as she cowered in her chains.

“You’re so thin. Please eat,” Willow would coax again.

“I’m sorry Beth,” Tara would only whisper back.

Willow would set the cup down, and feel the weight of everything, her heart wrenching.

“I’m sorry I tore you from heaven,” Willow would softly cry.



‘The Truth’


“She is really mad at you,” Tara said at the Rosenberg kitchen table one night. She was more sane now; she didn’t have to wear chains. Willow looked up from her homework anxiously.

“You’re a bad pet,” Tara continued. The soul had a way of making her vampire look so...haunted. And devastated. And just a little scary, and it wasn’t like her Mi--her own Tara’s kind of scary. Willow was actually more afraid of this Tara than her own Tara.

“I didn’t want her to get staked!” Willow protested. “I wanted...”

“You wanted a tamed vampire, you wanted your Slayerette life and your--whatever she was to you, you wanted that too,” Tara stated painfully. “Well she’s still mad at you. And. And I’m going hunting.”

Willow freaked. “What?!” Tara simply stood up and moved to leave.

“I’ve got to fix me. I’m not going to spend eternity hating me,” Tara only answered. She left.

Willow grabbed her coat and followed.

She didn’t know what she could do to help anymore, but she could at least follow her Mi--her Tara.

‘Learning Tara Again’


So....now a vampire.

Tara watched people, weighing whether she could muster feeling a part of them, or see them just as food. In a sense, she could see people apart from their blood. Nothing personal about sucking it out of them, but it was still wrong. To the people.

So. No more sun. And no more pancakes. And breathing. It made doing yoga strange.

The world was still...wonderful. Incredible. What a vampire could see, hear, scent, taste....it was astounding.

And the strength. And the power.

And the attitude.

She was a supernatural...undead, bloodsucking monster. She and the ‘other’ Tara, they had to work this out. She will not be some, dual personality, some majorly unhappy vampire, unable to forgive herself. What was the use in that? She and the demon must work this out.

And yes, Willow was theirs, in every sense.

Bad pet.



‘Her’


“No!!” Willow shrieked.

Tara leaned over the kitchen table, staring into Willow’s eyes with a strange mix of weariness, compassion, and resolve.

“You two have to talk,” she simply said.

“B-but she’s mad! At me! And it won’t just be ‘pull your pants down’ and spank spank spank, this time. Can’t I stay at Buffy’s maybe, and, and she can call me?” Willow suggested timidly.

Tara placed a hand at the back of Willow’s head and kissed her tenderly, on the forehead.

“Don’t worry,” she promised. “I’ll be here.” She stepped back and took a deep breath. Her eyes closed and her body softened and relaxed.

She raised her head slowly, and when her blue eyes opened, lidded and knowing, there was a small twist to her lips.

“T-Tara?” Willow asked softly. Wide eyed and wanting, she stepped a little closer. Tara’s smile grew.

“Release,” Tara merely said. The collar at Willow’s throat clicked open and fell away.

Willow wanted to scream; she always did when this happened, knowledge never made it less scary. Mistress grabbed her in full ‘grr’ face and bit her, hard.



‘Yay, It’s You’


“I’d really like to torture you,” Tara said matter-of-factly. She held Willow close and then kissed her on the forehead. It left a bloody lips mark, so Tara licked that away. “And not just because of the soul cursing. Didn’t I tell you stop helping the Slayer? Or to stop looking at those black magic books? You are such a bad girl.”

Willow made a little sound in Tara’s arms. A few tears spilled from her eyes. Her neck hurt.

“I don’t really want to kill you,” Tara assured. “So I’ll torture and kill your parents instead. And then Xander! How about that?”

Willow’s lips moved and she mouthed ‘no, no, no’. Tara frowned suddenly, hugging Willow closer to herself.

“Shut up,” she muttered in Willow’s hair. “Dork. You shut up. So? No happiness clause? Don’t care, I’ll get rid of you yet, I’ve got time.”

Willow found herself laid carefully on the kitchen table while Tara went to look in the fridge, still talking to herself. She suddenly turned to Willow with a smile.

“She got you orange juice,” she gave. “Because she knew this would happen.” The vampire brought out the carton. “She forgot to get your drink cup though. The one with the swirly straw.”

When she returned to the table, orange juice glass in hand, she leant and licked away fresh tears from Willow’s eyes.

“Huh,” she said bemusedly, contemplating the taste. “Happy tears.”



‘I Think I Kinda Love You’


She knows what people will think, she knows what she should be thinking, she knows she should be judge-y and refusing of the arms that held her.

They lay in bed and her lips sought the vampire’s, even as her sore neck protested. She kissed her sweetly, and with a young girl’s longing.

She knows she could really like the soul too, but that Tara needed her space, after being torn from heaven and all.

Her demon Tara was so unapologetically....guilt-free.

And powerful, and beautiful, and, and even caring. Even though that care came with some rough stuff. Owie kinds of rough stuff. Scary, owie, ‘is she mad enough to kill me now?’ kinds of rough stuff. Am I a masochist? Willow suddenly realized. She’ll need to read her parents’ psychology books on the subject.

Tara lifted her up suddenly, looking intently into her eyes.

“Missed me?” she asked, searching Willow’s eyes almost clinically.

Willow answered by kissing her again. To affirm such things to a demon only hurt, because she could never be sure if any affection from the vampire was genuine.

Tara merely smiled, triumphant, a leer that spoke of conquest. It hurt to see, like it should, but at the same time Willow could only think:

My monster.



‘One More Time’


“But Buffy needs me!” Willow protested. Her Mistress continued to put together a batter. “Do you want to see the world go to heck?”

“You’ve gotten really uppity,” Tara ground out. “When I say: Do Not Help the Slayer, I mean, do not--”

“You don’t understand,” Willow cried. She couldn’t help the defiance. At this point, she didn’t care if Mistress punished her. She saw the wooden spoon shake a little in Tara’s hand.

“What. What? Oh really? Fuck it,” Tara growled, and then she sagged a bit. When she straightened and turned, the Soul gazed from those blue eyes.

“She just wants you safe,” Tara gave gently. “And,” she added. “She wants to stop your being so reckless, studying what you shouldn’t, and practicing what you shouldn’t.” The soul looked at Willow darkly.

“It’s necessary,” Willow protested weakly.

Tara turned back to the bowl. “How many strokes did she do?” she asked, putting the spoon back in.

“Fifteen,” Willow answered hesitantly. Tara gave the batter ten more strokes. She moved to wash the wooden spoon off.

“Spare the rod, spoil the child,” Tara suddenly said. “This is necessary too.”

Willow swallowed. Was this the soul, still? Awkwardly, she undid her pants and pushed it and her panties down. Just in case.

When Tara turned to her again, she was still the Soul. The spoon was at the ready in her hand.

Willow carefully bent over the table. Tara sighed.

“They also say, this’ll h-h-hurt me more than you,” she stated resignedly, and brought the spoon down on Willow’s naked bottom.



‘Be A Good Willow’


The soul said things like: You need to be needed more than you need us.

She said: Our appreciation of you is not enough.

She said: This is the last time I intervene.

Then fingers got shoved roughly inside her, right at the tenth blow, and Willow jerked up into that hand and cried out with every smack.

Why did the soul think the demon would be better for her??

“Bad pet!” The back of her thighs were hit--each one. “If you don’t listen, then you shouldn’t get us. This--” Shove. “Is--” Shove. “The last time--you get this!”

“No please!!” Willow cried, suddenly frightened. “Don’t leave me!!”

No more fingers, just more hitting.

“I’m sorry! I’ll listen! I’ll be good!!” she desperately sobbed. She fell apart with her world.

The blows stopped. The fingers returned. Willow pushed and pushed back into that hand and heard fierce, passionate words spoken to her--comforting, encouraging, dirty. She told her she was a good girl; She told her she was their girl; She told her she was--

She let Willow cum, just a body needing and falling and shattering against that hand. Willow was pieces in Mistress’ arms.

Much later, Willow had to stand at the table, because it hurt too much to sit. And she lost her pants and panties again. The demon hummed at the stove.

“Funny shapes...or rounds?” Tara smiled at Willow.



‘Soul Girl’


Xander called Tara ‘Psycho Soul Girl’, because she acted nothing like Angel.

Buffy treated Tara like she would any evil thing. It was easier than trying to figure out when the Soul was in control.

“They can be your friends,” Tara assured lightly. “Just no magic,” she added in dark, demonic warning.

When Willow was good, the Soul would come out and teach her magic, the only time it was allowed.

Soul Tara also saw to certain things, like securing night classes for herself at UC Sunnydale.

“I like to paint too,” the demon admitted to Willow.

Demon Tara was very strict; she made Willow finish high school early. She got her admitted into UC Sunnydale as well. Her parents were pleased by her acceleration. They overlooked the school choice in favor of praising her accomplishments. They even liked Tara; Joyce liked Tara.

When a dumped Spike kidnapped Willow, Tara kicked his ass. When Faith threatened Willow, Tara kicked her ass too.

“Your girlfriend is making me look bad,” Buffy joked to Willow, when she was, once again, not quite as fast as Tara in rescuing her best friend. Willow realized though, that as much as she helped the Slayer, she was also Buffy’s liability. Tara helped make her less so.

In the end, it was a beautiful, psycho she-pire who took best care of Willow.

“I think I love you,” she finally told the vampire, looking in wonder at this amazing, baffling creature, Dru’s daughter.

“I think I love you too,” the demon answered. “Now clean the house. No magic.”

The End