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Title: Tara Of The Sea
(One in the Magical Pearls Series, Master Willow-Verse)
Author: psimetis
E-mail: psimetis@yahoo.com
Spoilers: Season 3
Rating: Desperate Hard Fuck Fuck Fuck Sex
Pairing: Vamp Willow/Tara
Characters: Master Willow, Tara-Kitten, the usual Sunnydale players
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: Master Willow and Tara-Kitten embark on three interesting quests to gather a cure for a poisoned Buffy. This is quest one, Carnival. Erotica, Dom/sub, Language

Warnings: Tara-Thong, Willow-Puss in Boots, Mermaid Bootie, Water Bed Humpin’, Thong Wrasslin’

Timeline: After the events of Master Willow: Master Willow (Book Two)

Author’s Note: The sea goddess portrayed in this story is derived from the aspects of an actual deity. It is not my intention to exploit a faith and religion, and I hope the story will be taken in the context of general goddess worship. This story was inspired by the fact that Miz Lezli, Lair Patron, is a member of a Mardi Gras crewe. :) Written with Abba Rowland’s ‘The Sea’, looping in the soundtrack of my mind. Enjoy! (finished: 7.26.05) (Released from Hidden Lair, 12.25.05)


Tara Of The Sea

Being a vampire of caprice, Willow sometimes really didn’t care if Buffy lived or died. Her former best friend from a long ago human-Willow time could be a downright, irritating Slayer bitch. Nag, nag, nag. But Willow liked to think that Buffy’s life really was hers to command, even when the latter thought their roles were visa-versa.

Now, with a very sick (and crazy), Buffy locked up in her mother’s basement and a hasty (and very boring), White Hats meeting ended, Willow could take all the time in the world to bade a very worried Joyce-mom farewell and secretly gloat. The vampire wasn’t personally responsible for the latest mishap to befall Buffy, but she certainly wasn’t above enjoying it. Kendra glowered impotently beside the Watcher on the porch. Dawn, the inconsequential little Sis, looked between Willow and her mother with trepidation and hope practically beaming out of every pore. As Willow made her leisurely way back to her Impala, she dearly wanted to light up, take a deep inhale, and blow some triumphant smoke into the night air, but she did give up her cigarettes for Kitten.

Yes...Buffy and her ‘issues’; Willow could be magnanimous enough to allow little Boss Buffy her illusions. It made for a more peaceful Sunnydale, and a more peaceful Sunnydale meant more quality time with her Kitten. But sometimes, just once in a while, it was good to let everyone know who was the *real* power here. Take their current situation, for instance: Certain assassins had successfully poisoned Buffy, insuring the Slayer would have to endure a long and painful corruption of body and mind, devolving finally into one of the demon monsters the Slayer so abhorred. Thanks to Anya’s passing familiarity of the poisoning method, Willow had the knowledge and possible means for Buffy’s only cure.

“We will go,” Giles had tried to assert during the White Hats meeting, taking Jenny Calendar’s hand. “We will book a flight immed--”

“Hello!” Anya had interrupted from the Summers’s couch. “Are you forgetting something? We are talking about demigoddesses here. Three different ones in three different places, but they all require the same kind of supplication. A supplication manifested from love. So yes, a bonded pair must go, but these particular female deities respond best to female energy. You need lesbians to go.”

Anya had then given the Summers living room a good once over, White Hats and males present shuffling awkwardly.

“Lesbian witches are even better. So how much would the Council pay Tara to take on these quests?” Anya had inquired brightly for her currently non-present and innocently oblivious friend. Willow, who had been listening while standing uninvited outside on the porch, had smiled wickedly.

Having the Slayer’s miserable life once again indebted to the Master of Sunnydale? she had smirked to herself. Just too sweet.


‘Passport, Please’

Kitten had never been outside her native born country. To say her girl was excited about a trip across the border was definitely an understatement. And her plane ride! Yet another first too, experienced of course, in First Class. Nothing but the best for Willow’s Kitten.

Excited, Tara held the vampire’s hand constantly once they boarded their plane, and Willow never tired of kissing the warmth of those fingers.

“Whatcha see, Kitten?” Willow whispered to her, hours into their flight and after a sound Kitten-nap. Willow was not above putting a little sleep spell on her girl in order to get her well rested. Wide awake now, Tara peeped into the black night through her airplane window.

“Nothing much,” Kitten whispered back, smiling. “But it’s so neat to be this high.”

“You’ve taken me higher,” Willow naughtily informed, and even in the darkened, hushed cabin she could see Kitten’s hot blush. Willow teased fingers on her witch’s knee. Now that Kitten’s had her nap, she might feel frisky. “Wanna join the mile high club?” Willow suggested cutely, with an arch of her eyebrows.

A little persistent stroking of Kitten’s thigh and a shy, but sly grin of agreement was the vampire’s reward.

As they made their brief way to First Class’s little restroom cabinet, Willow took an equally brief moment to reflect. Did it really matter, Willow pondered, that she had to leave her Sunnydale rather hastily in the bickering hands of her two partners and one lieutenant, Anya, Cordelia, and Harmony? Those three together, at least, were only a little better than Spike at running things. Willow just had to place faith that they also couldn’t ruin things too much, too soon. The current Slayer situation had given Willow the perfect excuse to take her girl away from everything Hellmouthy and to experience new and unique...scenes.

Currently, one interestingly cramped scene.

“Oh, ouch!” Kitten whispered loudly, immediately after bumping her head against the first class’s bathroom mirror.

“Okay, Kitten?” Willow whispered loudly back. She wondered if Kitten could hear her. She was trying to work her way between Tara’s legs. The loud hum of the aircraft and of the forced air circulation was definitely distracting.

BING! the red ‘seat belts’ sign suddenly chimed, lighting up forbiddingly.

“Oh!” Tara exclaimed again, relief evident in her voice. “We better get back!”

She squeezed herself pass Willow in a vain attempt to get out the narrow door first. Through the bathroom intercom the prim voice of one of the flight attendants crackled.

“Passengers please return to your seats and prepare for landing. Welcome to Rio de Janeiro!”

Willow resignedly moved a trapped elbow out of the way, felt the pressing passage of lovely, smooshed Kitten-boobies, and sighed. They could try ‘mile highin’ again on the trip back.


‘Samba Time’

“Am I showing?” Tara asked Willow in concern. She turned from one side to the other before the hotel suite’s full length mirror, trying to catch an adequate reflection of her own ass. It was draped in a long, shimmering, diaphanous sea blue skirt. Willow was definitely not going to say it, but yes, Kitten’s bare cheeks were nicely evident through the thin fabric thanks to her brief thong. The vampire had to congratulate herself again for always ‘accidentally’ ripping up Kitten’s sensible panties and replacing them with bolder choices. “I think this is too revealing.”

“Oh no Kitten, not at all,” Willow easily lied from across the room. She had to pause in her own dress-up to stare at Kitten’s very bite-worthy buttocks through the translucent material. Spankable. Kitten giggled before the mirror.

“We were in Sunnydale just hours before!” she exclaimed, fussing with the lightweight drape of her long skirt. The tiny, light blue crystals sewn into the fabric winked and glittered. “And here we are, in Rio! It’s amazing! It’s like we’re, we’re--”

“Jetset types, Kitten?”

“Oh no. More like spies. On a mission.” Tara giggled again.

Bright eyed, Willow moved across the room to watch Tara model her skirt in her mirror. A very shapely, milky leg was tensed through the long slit as her Kitten fussed again with the skirt’s low slung, bejeweled, waistline. Not much spy gear could be concealed under that disguise, the vampire privately asserted, eyeing Kitten’s bared tummy, back, and shapely arms...

“Hardly a ‘Mission Impossible’, Kitten. We’ve a very simple job to do, really,” Willow murmured distractedly.

“Oh I hope so,” Kitten replied with concern. “I didn’t get to see Buffy before we left.”

“You wouldn’t want to do that, Kitten. Brrr. Ugly,” Willow informed. She gave a show of shivering, but in reality, she rather enjoyed viewing the recent progress of black, poisonous corruption upon the Slayer’s mind and body.

Kitten turned to look at her.

“You’re beautiful,” she said simply, warmth glowing in her blue eyes.

“That’s my line,” Willow admonished. Kitten’s costume for tonight’s Carnival was perfect. Push-up shells for an ample brassiere, strands of iridescent, warm pearls around a white neck and dribbling into tight cleavage, curving armlets denoting the waves of the sea on each womanly limb, and the perfectly clingy skirt, with the shiny crystals in the pattern of scales, made her girl look just like--

“Rrr. I’ve got me a mermaid,” Willow announced, capturing Tara. Her witch laughed, and playfully smacked the possessive, slim, yet very strong arm wrapped around her waist.

“Pushy pirate,” Kitten admonished. She ran hands along Willow’s sides, caressing the basket hilt of a sword in its leather scabbard even as she attempted to reach lower. “Oh, I like these.”

“The thigh high, leather boots?” Willow asked innocently, realizing that Kitten was trying to reach for their tops. Willow’s boots were leather from the soles all the way up to mid-thigh. “They got buckles.”

“And heels. You’re taller.” Tara gave up trying to reach for the tops of the snug leather. She allowed their bodies enough space between to run her hands up Willow’s flouncy pirate’s shirt, her rugged charm necklace, and then lightly trace her made up face; the heavy kohl outlining the bright, green eyes, the pencil thin mustache, and the single, huge, hooped earring that hung heavily from a lobe.

“You’re my boy fantasy come true!” Tara finally exclaimed, causing Willow’s darkly lined eyes to get even bigger.

“I am?” she squeaked, never imagining in a million years that Kitten would ever say such a thing. “Who--?”

“Johnny Depp,” Kitten announced. “I’m cured! I want the boys now!”

“Oh you!” Willow growled. She lifted her laughing Kitten and went to vamp face, playfully biting her on her shell covered breast.

“Oh!! Don’t break it!” Tara breathlessly chastised as Willow’s fangs connected with a loud POINK! against the molded hardness of the shell cup. Tara grabbed for the black eye patch Willow had flipped up on her forehead, pulled it back, and let it go with a snap.

“Hey!” Willow cried, dropping Kitten and clapping a hand over her now eyepatched, demon-yellow eye.

“C’mon, take me down to the Carnival!” Tara demanded. She was excited; she wanted to experience this city. “It’s already night and things are happening, and--and we really should get the job done,” she added. She went to the dresser and retrieved a white flower. She placed it in her blonde hair.

“I’m done!” she announced and looked at Willow expectantly. “Let’s go!”

The vampire smiled indulgently. Willow could understand her girl’s excitement. The faint beat of invigorating samba music from the street below could be heard, even within the insulated, high rise hotel suite. Willow donned her plumed, pirate hat.

“As you wish,” she acquiesced with smirking gallantry.


‘Sparkle, Everywhere’

Rio de Janeiro; how many times had Willow and Dru visited this hot, urban jumble of severe poverty and secluded wealth? She could count the many splendid nights spent racking up countless, senseless kills, but wouldn’t. Tonight, humans glittered everywhere, hot, joyful, restless. Plenty of skin and flesh to be had. Willow ignored the tempting throats and followed obediently beside her Kitten. Tonight she wore the mantle of mere, benign costumed lover to her mermaid-Kitten as easily as she wore her pirate attire.

But even a ‘vacationing’ pirate could hardly help but notice the other, working predators of the night. As she and Kitten weaved through the dancing costumers and parade watchers, she smiled serenely back at two cold-eyed, human thugs tracking them for an easy tourist mark. Ooo boys, come get it, she mentally encouraged. Already, her quick mind was working out how she might sever their arteries (without making a mess), and make sure Kitten didn’t miss her by her side.

The thugs weren’t stupid, unfortunately. They somehow got a clue and instantly disappeared, never to be sensed by Willow again.

Before the vampire could indulge in a little pout about lost prey, she noticed her Kitten pause nervously in their sidewalk meandering, adjusting the glittery, matching shawl she had insisted on wrapping around her self-conscious body. The wrap even fell over her shapely, thonged ass. The lovely cheek bottoms could be seen just peeping beneath, but still. Yet another thing Willow had to pout about.

“Something the matter, Kitten?” Willow asked loudly above the enthusiastic music and noise of the crowds. She hoped her witch wasn’t cold. It was perfectly warm tonight, and there were certainly many humans out who were wearing far less than her Kitten. Kitten took that opportunity to put her head close to Willow’s hooped ear.

“I, I think I feel her,” Kitten said in a low tone, knowing the vampire could easily hear her. “It’s strange...not bad, or anything. But it’s like it’s known I’m here, and...that’s just weird.”

“Not at all,” Willow reassured, speaking into her witch’s ear. “This is her city. She knows when someone like you seeks her. Do you know where she is, Kitten?”

Tara pointed to a blockaded side street, biting her full bottom lip uncertainly.

“Okay baby. Time to meet a goddess,” Willow encouraged, taking her hand.

“So s-soon?” her Kitten gulped. Her usually warm hand became instantly clammy in Willow’s. “I wish we could have prepared better. We’re, we’re going to have to s-supplicate by m-m-muh-making--”

“I love you,” Willow interrupted softly. She stared reassuringly into Tara’s eyes, hoping to lend her strength and courage.

“Oh,” Tara breathed. “I love you.”

Their mouths met in a quick kiss that melted into something a little deeper and longer.

“Okay?” Willow asked when they finally parted.

“Okay,” Tara smiled, and the fingers that grasped Willow’s firmly felt just a little less anxious.

“Remember, Anya was once a patron saint of women,” Willow further comforted. “Theslokos was once a fertility god. Beings like these require some beseeching, but in the end they’re just creatures with a little bit more power than ordinary folks. Hardly real deities at all, Kitten.”

“Kinda like you, huh?” Kitten teased.

“Oh yes. Just like me,” Willow smiled.

Willow the World Killer felt her hand gripped tighter by Kitten. Her witch gazed at her with firm resolution. Together they moved for their side street destination.


‘One Night To Be Beautiful’

The blockaded street was more of a cul de sac, tall, worn apartment dwellings lining the sides and facing Willow and her Kitten. No one bothered to stop them at the barriers, and Willow noticed that the quarantined space was filled with Carnival participants waiting for their turn to enter the ongoing parade. Women in brief costumes and huge headdresses stood about, breaking into bits of dance as if rehearsing their moves. Black men in flowing, priestly robes postulated with their cigars. There was the rush, flow, and sporadic shouting of others contributing to some kind of preparation. Willow neither sensed nor saw where any so-called demigoddess might be.

“Through there,” Kitten indicated with an excited whisper, ducking under the swiftly passing serving tray of a young man bearing melons, flowers, and other fruits upon his head. He disappeared into a space between the facing buildings--an alleyway.

Willow’s eyes narrowed. She flipped her eye patch up as she followed Kitten in.

During her adventuring with Dru through the many realities they’d landed in, looking for a way back to their original home, Willow had met all kinds of pretenders to power. Sure, someone could claim to be a god--her sire was actually deified by a South American tribe once. That had been quite a sticky situation to get out of. Literally. But most of the ‘gods’ Willow had the privilege to encounter often seemed very capable of dying beneath her teeth. That godlike male in Hong Kong for instance, who had a bit of true Dragon in him--eating him had nearly killed Willow, but it had felt awfully, awfully good. Perhaps because of her experiences Willow was not exactly quick to give credence to ‘higher beings’. She wasn’t entirely dismissive--there were indeedy, real gods out there--she just didn’t have it in her to readily believe. Sire and Kitten however, had an amazing capacity for faith. They felt and saw things Willow just could not. She recognized the shortcomings of skepticism within herself.

Willow held Kitten by the elbow as they walked down the barely lit alleyway, pitch blackness the only destination ahead in their path. Yes, there was a thrumming upon the bare edges of her senses that hinted at another Power here, but really nothing else. She glanced at Kitten with her nocturnal sight and witnessed only calm and gentle expectancy on her face. Phooey, Willow thought. Distrust was in her nature; she was glad she had a real sword provided for her costume. Just in case.

Willow felt a rippling.

“Veil,” she murmured to herself, noting the surge, like a thorough splash of warm water upon the entire body, of a definite Signature here. Past the magical veil, light greeted them at the end of the alleyway.

As they emerged from the narrow opening, the hectic atmosphere of a round courtyard--its uneven paved stones edged by the same dilapidated, apartment buildings as those outside--greeted their sight. Large lights connected to loud, portable generators illuminated an immense, layered parade float. People were enthusiastically laying final touches upon its platforms, hammering at various spots. Flowers were being hurriedly laid. There was more of the usual shouting and hurrying and inadvertent scattering and littering. Willow wasn’t sure if the flimsy structure she was looking at was a foamy, tiered half-cake topped with a huge shell, or a foamy, giant, squished jellyfish topped with a huge shell.

“That’s one ugly float!” she said aloud, and she wanted to laugh. When she turned to her girl however, she realized she’d lost Kitten.

Tara was already halfway across the courtyard, right next to the sorry looking float, staring up with smitten, blue eyes at a striking, black woman.

The woman had a magnificent bodybuilder’s build; statuesque, broad of shoulders, slim of waist, and with a charismatic, full lipped grin of perfect, white teeth. She was scantily robed and crowned like a lurid, six foot tall African queen, and bore the self-confident air of a thousand divas. She opened her muscular arms generously as if to welcome Tara in and Willow heard her Kitten gasp.

“You’re so beautiful,” Tara breathed in awe. Willow hurried forward to join her at her side. She wanted to prevent Kitten from walking closer to this ‘goddess’. Beautiful! the vampire mentally scoffed. She was genuinely offended to see such a female specimen garner this kind of admiration from Kitten.

“Ahh, vampire pest,” the black goddess greeted in a deep, sensual voice that purred on Willow’s senses. “Welcome to Carnival.”

“Who are you calling a pest?!” Willow sputtered.

“Thank you, we’re so happy to be here,” Kitten returned in sincere greeting. “We have a gift for you.” She turned to Willow, her eyes still big and wondrous, and the vampire remembered the net sling she was carrying over a shoulder. She slung it around and pulled a large, perfectly ripe melon from the bag. An obsequious priest man immediately stepped out of nowhere to accept the gift for the goddess.

“Ahh, but are you not the gift?” Willow heard the muscle-amazon remark to Kitten, and the woman admiringly lifted Tara’s shawl at its ends, away from her witch’s body. Tara blushed, modesty in her entire being. She even turned her body from side to side, completely shy yet demurely enjoying the attention.

Oh for cryin’ out loud! Willow mentally protested. She couldn’t believe Kitten was being swayed by a whole lotta ripple and biceps. Willow was slim, but she was kinda cut where it counted.

“She’s not the gift, the melon was the gift,” Willow corrected irritably. What was wrong with Kitten anyway? She was obviously enchanted. Willow wanted to walk out of that courtyard right then, but such a move could end very badly--probably with half of Rio de Janeiro destroyed. Willow the World Killer decided to be patient. For just a little bit.

“We’re here for something!” the vampire rudely announced.

“Indeed you are,” the goddess agreed. “Pearl for pearls. Come see my float,” the woman added in a low purr to Tara.

“Dead jellyfish is more like it,” Willow snarked, “Your coffers must be pretty poor if your followers can only build you that.”

“My children give what they can,” the goddess answered regally.

“And why should they, in poverty as they are? They’ve hardly benefited by your presence in this city, have they?”

A tiny part of the vampire called ‘wee Willow the Sensible’ wanted her to shut up, and quick, but the demon in her reared in jealousy, seeing Kitten by this creature’s side.

“In our home, things were worn. Daddy was a miser,” Kitten then spoke up, addressing the goddess earnestly. “So we tried to keep things nice. It wasn’t much but Momma was always proud that we could make our home nice.” She glanced back at Willow. “I think the float looks nice.”

Willow shut her mouth like a trap. This was one of those times where she’d inadvertently insulted Kitten’s upbringing again. Not that Kitten really noticed.

The goddess merely looked at Willow, a regard of great patience, then flicked a finger at her.

Willow began dancing the samba.

“What??” the vampire cried, realizing she couldn’t control the rapid footwork or the roll of her hips. Her boots shuffled a sexy rhythm on the broken pavement. Tara laughed out loud and clasped her hands in delight.

“What was that for??” Willow snarled at the goddess when her feet finally stopped moving.

“I didn’t know you could dance like that!” Kitten declared.

“’Course I can, Mummy loves all kinds of dancing,” Willow explained, and before she knew it, the goddess motioned with a finger and she was dancing uncontrollably again.

“Oh! You’re Antonio Banderas!” her Kitten laughed again. “Did you see Shrek?” she then asked the goddess. She gestured happily to Willow, who was burning a hole into the pavement like a pirate possessed. “She’s my Puss in Boots!”

Right at that moment, Willow decided not to fight the dancing. She’d dance all night long, if necessary, if it made Kitten that happy.

The goddess then clapped her hands while Willow danced. “Mermaid!” she announced deeply to no one in particular, and several muscular, bare chested men seemed to materialize out of nowhere. They surrounded Kitten.

“Hey!!” Willow protested, trying to intimidate, but it was hard to take a warning posture when her body couldn’t stop doing the samba. She heard a ziiiiiiiiip! And through the throng of men she could see a bit of Kitten leg and a very, very.....tight skirt? Envelope that pretty leg.

Before she knew it, Kitten was squealing in delight, hoisted high above the men’s heads. From the waist down, she sported a shiny, sea blue mermaid’s tail. With a kick, Kitten flicked her tail, the fins mesmerizing in their languid, arcing motion. The muscle men moved away with their mermaid prize and Tara beckoned eagerly to Willow with both hands outstretched.

“Puss puss!” she called out.

“I’m coming!” Willow reassured, trying to dance in that direction. Suddenly her feet stopped and Willow nearly tripped over herself. She wanted to yell at that so-called goddess who’d bespelled her feet, but the woman was now conveniently nowhere to be seen.

“Tara!” Willow cried, bounding for the float as she witnessed the men carefully lay Kitten upon the huge shell’s lip. Kitten’s mermaid’s tail draped over the edge.

“Will!” she called in delight, and flicked her new tail again.

Oh she’s so pretty, Willow admired, realizing that Kitten was now more relaxed than ever, her shawl gone and her perfectly pale shoulders and arms glowing in the harsh, portable lights. Kitten was totally at ease, a mood she didn’t usually fall into unless she was with Family. Willow was certain that the goddess had charmed her witch, but at least for now, it was a good influence.

Since Ultimate Body Woman wants us on this float, guess we haveta to go along, Willow grimly determined. She couldn’t anticipate how the night would end (for her part, she was adamant it would eventually end with sex), but at least it was turning out to be an interesting adventure for Kitten. She placed a boot on the float, ready to leap up to where her witch was.

SWAP! Came a fly swatter right down on her knee.

“Hey!!” Willow cried, completely surprised and indignant. The audacity of these people! One of the goddess’s minions stood before her--megaphone in one hand and fly swatter in the other. This fellow was obviously someone who thought of himself as the boss of this show.

“You, your position is over there!” the black man gestured imperiously, speaking heavily accented English. He indicated a small platform with railing just a tier below Kitten’s perch. “Allonz vi* KRK de sons **vRK!!” his megaphone then loudly crackled, as he yelled at some people still hammering on the float. Those same people began to jump ship--or jump off the giant, dead jellyfish, observed Willow. An engine roared and the float came to life with a sudden jerk into motion. She felt the fly swatter smack her again.

“Allez, you! Get into position, parasite!” the man ordered.

“WHAT did you call me?!” Willow yelled.

“Will!” Kitten called down to her as the float began moving. Willow decided to ignore FlySwatter Guy and leapt for the float.

“I’ll get you later,” she called in threat down to the annoying man.

“KRRRK! ParasKRK!!” was the man’s audacious response through his megaphone.

Willow rapidly climbed the lurching float, accessing her designated spot with ease. She glanced up and noted that an excited Kitten looked very okay. Despite how exasperating everything about this visit with the local ‘goddess’ had so far been, Willow had to admit, she’d never been in a parade, and it was pretty exciting. Assured that Kitten was safe, she then looked around her own little platform. The dancers who had been waiting in the cul de sac now stood at various little platforms like hers, poised and ready to samba. From this angle, Willow realized the float and its overall foamy appearance took on the surprising shape of the waves of the sea.

“My Children!” she heard boom above her. Miz Muscular now stood above her Tara, hands out in regal declaration. “One night to be Beautiful,” the goddess solemnly deigned.

All eyes faced expectantly forward.

The float sailed, and before them, the buildings parted.

Well, begrudged Willow, nearly shivering from the magical ripple. I’m impressed.


‘Catch of the Day’

Like the proudest ship in the fleet, Willow and Kitten’s float integrated seamlessly with the Carnival parade. One moment there was the rush of expectancy as the float glided from its hiding place, the next moment it was all blinding lights, deafening music, and the screams and gestures of spectators.

They love us! Willow thought in surprise, never having been on the receiving end of such surround-sound recognition and adoration before. It was as if the very air were pulsing with excitement at the sight of them--or perhaps more accurately, at the sight of the goddess of buffness who stood behind her Kitten, projecting regality in the supreme. Willow realized that such wild crowd response deserved a good show in return. Turning on the ‘sexy’, she danced easily along with the other samba dancers. She glanced up and saw her Kitten-mermaid wave warmly to the crowds. She looked utterly at home upon the shell, a sensual creature of the sea who had emerged from her ocean home just for this celebratory night. With her shimmering, sea blue tail, Kitten was mythical, exotic, and despite her warmth and openness to the people below to whom she waved, Willow thought Tara a treasure beyond the reach of the grasping, lowly masses. The vampire then noticed the fishing net her Tara sat upon, littered with sparkling starfish, clams, and the occasional funny colored fish.

“Catch of the day!” Willow suddenly shrieked in delight down to the crowds, gripping her railing and taunting. “Catch of the day!!”

And like the vampire pirate she was, she fell wholeheartedly into enjoying herself, dancing, sneering, egging the crowds on and insulting them. This was the first time she’d participated in Carnival as a performer, and not as the lurking, opportunistic killer-spectator. On this foamy stage for these screaming onlookers, she was a safe, evil little thing for them to respond to, a negative force balancing out Kitten-mermaid’s loving, positive vibrations from above.

Willow danced, flung abuses at the throngs who eagerly yelled back, tried to scare more than a child or two with her evil snarls, and had the time of her misbehaving, undead life.

It wasn’t long before misbehaving Willow-pirate left her designated platform and began prowling the float, a wicked creature on the loose upon the goddess’s own foamy, wavy home. The other dancers and float riders reacted appropriately to the vampire’s presence, mock screaming and feigning fright. Willow climbed a random path all over the giant jellyfish--practically like the little parasite Mr. Megaphone Man had called her. She just hoped that Lady Muscles won’t deem her a pest again and raise her finger. Tara-mermaid didn’t seem all that perturbed by Willow’s naughty behavior however. Instead, she tossed beaded necklaces down to wherever her errant pirate might be--necklaces that were supposed to be tossed out to the reaching crowd.

Willow would attentively catch these gifts from Tara-heaven, and, like the considerate partner she was, she helpfully threw the beads out for her Kitten as well. She made sure to beam at least a few of the grabby spectators of course.

“Something from your little vampire Santa!” she yelled as she threw out more beads. Either everyone was too drunk or there really was that much ‘happy’ in the air, Willow reflected. Even when she’d haunted the streets of Rio with Dru, she’d never been to a Carnival with this much joy.

While she briefly mused on how all this giddy human-happy didn’t seem to offend her demon sensibilities at all, she felt a sudden shift in the air. Instinctively, she glanced up at her Tara and at the goddess behind her. Kitten’s face reflected that she too felt something change, her hand pausing in mid-wave. The goddess above her seemed to steel herself. Willow felt a huge shadow fall over her body and the platform she was balancing upon. She turned quickly to see the cause.

Another float appeared before her--immense and opulent--a titanic presence that somehow (magically, Willow immediately assessed), swooped its mass into the parade succession right in front of them. Its many tiered grandeur with its rows upon rows of Busby Berkeley-positioned dancers practically dwarfed Willow and Kitten’s wavy, jellyfish float.

Now that’s money! Willow thought, realizing that the float’s arrogant, fortress-like presence--containing the extravagances of boulder-sized jewels and hot tub sized gold coins--immediately drew boos from the crowds. Even its dancers seemed remote and snooty. A gigantic, constructed figure lay rolled up like a crouching mountain in the middle of the immense float. Its head bore a huge gold crown. As it slowly drew its mass up via the magic of robotics, Willow felt a slight sense of alarm.

The huge figure uncurled, a massive male shape trapped from the waist down within the float. Smoke and fire shot into the air from various points around its body. From the vantage point of being behind this intruder float, Willow could only see the giant’s straightening, wide receiver back. It blocked the Carnival’s sidewalk lights, shadowing the goddess’s float even further. The giant’s hair, made of thousands of fluttering fabric, breezed up and flapped noisily, thunderous and intimidating. Willow craned her neck around and saw the giant’s hinged, bearded jaw swing open, emitting a very impressive, float-shaking roar.

The crowds went wild.

Dang, we’re being upstaged! Willow realized. At the same time, the attention the giant king’s float drew was surprisingly antagonistic, the spectators clearly denouncing the displays of remote wealth even as many oo’ed and ah’ed over the presentation. The crowned giant drew the most cries of ire --more than little wicked pirate-Willow had inspired--as it bellowed at the crowd.

“HA--HA--HAR--HAR,” came its mocking laughter, blowing smoke and steam from its mouth and nostrils.

Willow turned and quickly climbed her way back to where Kitten sat. Tara had stopped waving at the crowds to look in concern at the spectacle before them. The goddess of buffness looked serious as well.

“My Children!” the goddess boomed loudly above the giant’s roar, raising her arms. “Dance!!”

Since Willow was in the process of negotiating her way around the float, she couldn’t accommodate the demand, but the rest of the dancers and float attendants enthusiastically obeyed. Goddess’s priestly men spun in their robes upon the street and shuffled, the scantily clad women samba’ed their sparkly bodies energetically to the beat. Kitten above smiled warmly and threw more beads, her gestures to the spectators as innocently enticing as they were welcoming. Willow felt like a pulse of genuine love had risen in the air.

Then the giant in its fortress bellowed, drowning the music. Its body straightened even further, and with the groan of machinery--

--slowly spun its head around 180 degrees, eyes flashing beacon red within the cavernous hollow eye sockets of its head.

“Holy crap, a Linda Blair moment!” Willow exclaimed out loud, trying to scramble her way to Kitten. Many of their float’s dancers screamed in alarm.

The giant’s hinged mouth dropped open.

“Don’t start spewing!” Willow cried. She definitely didn’t want to be part of an Exorcist reenactment.

The giant spewed a 12 foot flame directly at them.

“YAHHHH!!!” Willow screamed along with all her fellow float participants. She couldn’t help the girly moment--she was a vampire, god dammit, she hated fire!

The goddess above shouted and pointed a stern finger at the smoking, backwards facing giant, but to Willow’s magical senses, she didn’t feel the goddess’s finger doing much of anything.

“What are you trying to do, make him samba?!” Willow yelled incredulously, still trying to scramble her way up to Kitten. Unfortunately, during the surprising fire spew, she’d nearly slid off the float.

“HAR-HAR-HAR-HAR--” the giant bellowed, its smoking jaw looking practically unhinged. Even more disturbing than that sight on a still backwards head was the alarming rise into the air of a hidden, massive arm and hand.

Pieces of the giant’s own fortress broke away as the hand emerged, arcing around and then twisting at the wrist with the scream of metal upon metal. Dancers scattered and fled in every direction. The giant king’s body finally rotated noisily around to join its head. Willow heard Kitten shout in protest as the giant’s hand reached for her.

Willow didn’t have time to marvel at the robotic accomplishment of this immense creature. She shrieked in outrage. Her Kitten-mermaid couldn’t run!! She leapt, sword out and the blade singing through the air. No King Kong wannabe was going to take her Kitten!

She brought her blade down with all her vampire might as her feet landed. The giant’s sliced off hand slid away at the wrist and fell with an ugly thud upon one of Willow’s fellow dancers.

Not that the vampire cared about the now squished dancer, because the giant was roaring again. Thankfully, it had not been built of real flesh parts (how messy would that be! Willow mentally commented, filing away thoughts of gollums, Frankensteins, and other such mystical or scientific constructs for the moment), but of manmade material covering a mechanical and wood frame. A quick check showed that Willow’s blade had not been harmed, it was still good. She leapt for King Har Har again, weapon swinging, ready to do more damage.

“ROARRRRRR!!!” came the sudden flames that shot from the giant’s mouth.

Even through the heat and rush of fire, Willow could hear Tara cry out in fear for her.

I’m okay! she wanted to reassure, as she impacted with a thud upon the goddess’s float. Luckily she’d magically shielded herself in time. She wasn’t going to speculate on why Miz Muscles hadn’t lent her any sort of help here--obviously, Willow was on her own. She was all that stood between the deranged robot giant and Kitten.

The giant’s jaw unhinged again, directly above Willow, fire roiling in the back of its throat.

“Oh no! My turn now!!” Willow snarled. She leapt high into the air and brought her sword down.

Even above the boom of the parade’s samba music the sound of the very air renting apart could be heard, as Willow’s sword neatly cleaved the giant’s head and gaping mouth in two.

BOOM exploded the head, the mechanism for fire breathing obviously demolished. Willow fell back at the explosion while spectators screamed and hysterically applauded. The bystanders who hadn’t run away during the giant’s head swiveling and fire breathing apparently believed--or wanted to believe--that it was all part of a violent Carnival show. Willow shook off the effects of landing hard on the goddess’s float and looked up at the black, smoking pipe that was the giant’s esophagus, its head and face hanging in pieces.

BAM!!! came an explosion from the pipe and then Willow was suddenly showered--

--with confetti--big pieces of paper that looked very much like money. Willow grabbed one piece and stared at the paper blankly. It looked like real money.

Pandemonium ensued, as the spectators began to riot beneath the rain of paper.

Willow finally scrambled her way successfully back up to Kitten amidst the fluttering downpour of cash. Once she reached the shell’s lip she grabbed mermaid Kitten just as her witch’s hands contacted the vampire’s body in concern.

“Not hurt!” Willow announced, sitting down and holding on to Tara tight. “Did you see me split his head?” she added proudly. If the giant hadn’t poofed money she would have finished up the kill by chopping the intruder float to bits and pieces. And maybe a dancer or two as well, if she could get away with it.

“Yes. You were really cool,” Tara agreed enthusiastically, speaking above the noise of the rampaging crowds. She laid a hand on Willow’s working chest. “You’re like a cat, too excited from so much play,” Tara declared. “Look at you breathe.”

“I’m your pussy,” Willow said cutely. “Make love, now,” she then demanded.

“Oh! H-here?” Tara stuttered, biting her lip. She glanced up and Willow realized the goddess was still standing above them. Oh, right, the sex for the Slayer’s cure thingie, Willow reminded herself.

Lady Muscles just smiled benevolently down upon them. Willow mentally snorted. She was getting a little tired of this mystery goddess crap, but for Kitten’s sake she could try to be a little patient for just a little longer. As Willow pondered the remarkable extent of her own powers of patience, the goddess raised a finger.

Willow stiffened, but the finger did not point in her direction. Instead, it indicated upward.

Willow felt a shift beneath her butt, and held Kitten tight.

Their entire float slowly rose, the scrambling, money grabbing crowds seemingly oblivious to the miracle happening within their midst. The goddess’s float flew.

Willow and Tara looked ahead as the float rose higher and higher, skirting the tops of the highest of Rio de Janeiro’s buildings. In the night’s twinkling distance, they could see the sea.


‘The Sea’

Willow trudged happily through the moonlit sands of Copacabana, carrying her mermaid Kitten away from the now beached float. The other parade attendants had already jumped off, laughing, singing, and pairing up for what would undoubtedly be the consummation of the celebratory night; carnality.

Willow’s boots sank slowly into wet, cool sand. She squatted very carefully at the edge of the tide with Kitten in her arms, waiting for the returning surf.

“Will! You’ll get wet!” Kitten laughed. The oncoming wave greeted them with a swirling rush, foam and sea water brushing against the length of Tara’s mermaid tail. She flicked the now glistening, wet fins, spanking the wave as it receded.

“I want to dip you in the ocean. I wanna wrap you in a fishing net. I wanna be able to say I caught you, the rarest prize of the sea,” Willow said, attempting to dip Kitten once more.

“Oh but you did, you caught me a long time ago,” Tara murmured, holding Willow’s face.

Willow’s slender arms practically trembled. How she cherished that first night, always. She stood up and immediately began running back up to dry beach, Kitten prize in her arms.

The vampire wasn’t sure where she was going, but a private sand dune would definitely be something worth finding. Running in sand was also quite a chore, especially with a full grown (and how) mermaid in her arms, but Willow had vampire stamina, she’d make it to somewhere eventually.

“Oh,” Kitten indicated with a wave of her hand. “A tent!”

And what a tent! Willow admired, liking the size and regality of it. She hadn’t noticed it when they’d landed. The moment they’d touched sand, Lady Muscles had conveniently disappeared, yet again. Even if it were the goddess’s digs, Willow wanted to use the tent. A night out in the moonlit dunes with only the waves for company (more or less), sounded perfectly romantic except for the ‘sand ending up in one’s unseen privates’ factor.

Willow made a beeline for the bedouin style tent, fit for a desert prince. Standing torches lit the exterior, but it was the moonlight that revealed the thick carpets laid out upon the sand. The vampire half expected camels and desert raiders to appear.

And good gravy, there was Megaphone Man, Willow privately snarked. The man stood smiling broadly, indicating with his fly swatter the way to the tent.

Willow wanted to say something appropriately nasty as she passed (she settled for kicking up a lot of sand at the irritating man instead), but time was a wastin’. Obviously this was supposed to be their love-tent, for dedication of carnality to the goddess yadda yadda yadda--Willow had a Kitten to fuck right now.

Willow pushed backwards into the tent with her mermaid, only briefly noting the presence of oil lamps and excellent furnishings. She walked rapidly to her goal: The low bed with its many, many pillows.

“Will, it’s beautiful--oooff!” Tara exclaimed, when she landed roughly on the bed. Her body immediately began undulating upon it. She looked up in surprise.

Willow stared down into Kitten’s big blues, watching them go up and down and up and down, and thought: Wow, water bed.

And whatever Kitten saw in the vampire’s own wide, green eyes made her witch pause (despite the undulating, because water beds could go on and on for hours and hours). It was a startled look that immediately vanished, however--a look replaced with nothing but the know in those eyes, that big, knowledge-woman kind of knowing Willow (no matter how long she unlived!) was never going to know herself. Kitten’s blue eyes deepened and grew heavy lidded, and her mouth crept up slowly at the corner.

The air was electric-charged. Faced with such a sexy, fuckable woman, Willow had to step back, her hands trembling with need. She fumbled with the buckles of the belt and scabbard she still wore, working them apart. Her movements were stacattoed yet vicious. Tara lay silently on the softly rolling bed, a captive mermaid with nowhere to run to. Her blue eyes were now large. Her pushed up cleavage with its pool of strung pearls began to rise and fall with each accelerated breath. Willow flung her belt to the side. She tore off her eye patch.

“I’m gonna ravage you,” she growled, eyes tinging yellow. She reached for Tara, lifting her up and then flipping her over on the bed. The mermaid’s tail shimmered in the lamp light, sensual and thick, and the very slope of Tara’s tight, round ass enticed Willow further. The vampire hurriedly stuffed pillows beneath her lover, knowing Kitten could not use her knees for support. Willow mounted the bed, nearly sitting upon Kitten’s butt. She reached around to Kitten’s chest and shoved up those shelled bra cups she’d been wanting to shove up all night.

“Uhhh!” Tara groaned as Willow’s hands groped her roughly. Willow moaned into Tara’s hair as well, freely squeezing and fondling and fondling. She spread her knees wide and let her pants covered center contact abruptly with Kitten’s buttocks.

“RRRR,” Willow snarled, her hips beginning to pump. Reluctantly she had to let go of a plump breast just to brace herself on the rolling, ever moving bed. She shoved herself against Kitten’s ass. Every rough stroke against her electrified clit was a burn. There was a pulsating, greedy fire between her legs that needed to thrust, and thrust, and thrust--

Willow spread her legs further, feeling the friction of fabric and firm glutes on her clit as she franticly rubbed. Kitten pushed back, buttocks tight and her mermaid’s tail rhythmically slapping the bed. Willow thought about that tail thrashing between her legs, of how Kitten lay almost submissive while she fucked and fucked--

“You--Mine--Fuuh--” Willow sputtered, thrusting faster. Her clutching hand finally let go of the last breast, both arms now supporting her desperately rocking body. She buried her face in Tara’s hair, feeling the rapid change to fangs.

God, it felt like no matter how much she shoved she might never cum, and maybe she didn’t want to. If the universe demanded she just fuck Kitten like this for eternity, she’d do it. There was violence between her legs. There was need too primitive for softness and thoughtful consideration. She was plowing earth, she was cleaving sea. Her ass and thighs were so tight, she felt she could break concrete with them. Willow wanted to ride Tara’s butt until--

--oh god, she was gonna--

--there was that sweet, sweet tightening before oblivion. Willow’s fisted hands strangled the blankets beneath.

Like a bomb, the orgasm set off within Willow. She rent the covers into two. She shoved Kitten hard enough to give her babies, if she could. She kept her fanged mouth open, wide wide open, refusing to give into the primal bite...

....and beneath them, the bed rocked, and rocked, and rocked....

Harsh breaths; those were all she could expel, needless as they were, while her body still trembled from such pleasure. As she lay atop Kitten, the bed rolled and rolled. Tara tried to turn to face her, causing Willow to slip to the side, her booted leg still straddling. The vampire moved her face up and away, seeking to avoid any attempt by Kitten for a kiss. When she was like this, demon faced, her mouth was too sharp.

“Will,” she heard Tara murmur, and felt Kitten’s lips on her face, beneath her yellow eyes, kissing away wet emotion. Willow couldn’t stop breathing. She moved down, her ridged forehead stroking Kitten’s mouth, chin, neck, and chest. She hit pearls. Willow kept a hand on Kitten’s hip, not wanting her to turn completely over. Her other hand grabbed a full breast. Willow kept her lips and teeth away, but extended her tongue, laving the nipple eagerly.

“Uh!! Will!” Kitten gasped, her free hand clutching Willow’s head to her. Willow quickly adjusted so her teeth contacted the pushed up shell cup with a poink!

Fangs safely caught on the shell, Willow’s tongue did a desperate, wet dance on the flesh and nipple beneath. She felt Kitten’s mermaid’s tail thrash beneath her straddling leg.

Why she couldn’t shake her demon face just yet, Willow didn’t know. She seemed reduced still, to nothing but need. She might as well be a baby fledgling. And right now she knew what she needed, even if Kitten wanted a turn instead.

Willow stopped licking and buried her ridged forehead between Kitten’s breasts, taking in the surround sound of a heart beating excitedly. She moved further down, rubbing and rubbing her forehead along Kitten’s soft abdomen, along the smooth, mermaid costumed surface at the low waist, and finally along the line where Kitten’s center should be.

Willow felt Kitten jerk against her face. It was so very the right time to get her girl out of this costume. Willow quickly moved out of the way and pushed Tara to her stomach again. The vampire grabbed her witch’s ass, looking for the zipper.

“I don’t,” she heard Kitten gasp. “I don’t know where--”

Willow stuck her tongue into the small of Kitten’s back, running it along the seam of the mermaid costume. She made a sound of longing--something Kitten called her little puppy sound. She could try and tear the costume off but it didn’t seem right.

She heard something split, practically against the tongue she’d stuck into Kitten’s chick spot valley. She lifted her still demonic face and watched the mermaid fabric begin to split of its own volition, right smack center. She felt Kitten attempt to spread her legs.

Willow helped the split part further. The moment Kitten’s thong appeared, she grabbed it with a growl.

“Oh god, Will!!” Kitten nearly shouted, her hips lifting because Willow was actually pulling on her. The costume slowly peeled away and Willow licked Tara’s freshly exposed ass cheeks like ice cream.

Willow could feel Tara struggling to gain her knees, the water bed dipping and surging from the effort. Kitten’s butt bouncing back up and nearly got Willow in the fanged face. A quick turn and cheek smacked cheek soundly.

Willow resumed tugging on the thong and stuck her tongue right into the exposed crack of Tara’s ass.

“RRR, Will!!” Kitten growled at her, still fighting the confines of the mermaid costume. She finally managed to get to her hands and knees. The bed dipped, Willow felt the thong pull back, and realized that Kitten had grabbed it from the front and was trying to wrestle it from her. Excited, she gave in a little, not wanting the brief, little piece of underwear to tear just yet. What she had in her hand though, the vampire couldn’t help twisting, knowing it pulled fabric tight against Kitten’s clit. Tara groaned loudly. The bed rolled. Willow used her free hand to push Kitten’s knees apart. Tara finally kicked a foot free of the confining mermaid costume. Willow contorted her body to get her head upside down between Tara’s legs. She ran her tongue from luscious witch ass all the way down to the triangle covered sex.

It was a massive strain on her neck, keeping herself upside down and her face shoved up between Kitten’s legs, but the juicy prize was worth it. Kitten’s one hand supported her weight on the bed while her other still maintained a desperate grip to the front of her straining thong. Willow pulled hard on the end she would never relinquish and briefly watched the wet fabric thin and draw taut across Kitten’s sex. Fat lips of womanly pussy bloomed around the thong. Willow thrust her tongue between those plump lips, teasing and torturing the trapped cleft.

She heard a muffled scream from Kitten. Tara had buried her face into the bed. A wanton pelvis nearly smacked Willow in the nose too, and she shut her fanged mouth tight before her own teeth did damage.

Willow realized that this was the longest she’d ever been stuck in fang face. She couldn’t stop right then and make it go away. She wanted something so badly--so hungrily--it blew all thought and caution away.

The moment Kitten pussy was no longer shoved into her face, Willow resumed licking like a starved woman. Gasping heavily, Kitten fell to her side. Willow followed. The thong was still a tug of war between them. The fabric was so tense, only a line of material kept Willow-tongue from entering pussy. Tara made sounds of frustration, a leg trying to push Willow away. She finally went to her back, arching to relieve pressure from the torturous thong in Willow’s steadfast grip. Tara realized that trying to wrestle her own mangled underwear from the vampire wasn’t going to help. Desperately, the witch used her other hand to pry the taut fabric aside.

She ended up fingering herself quite a bit instead, Willow enthusiastically licking her hand as much as her pussy. Tara heard fabric finally tear. Eagerly, she pulled her end of the thong away from her body. With a cry of relief she felt her needy cunt exposed to the air.

The appreciative sounds Willow made were practically orgasmic. Her demon face immediately melted away. She buried her hungry mouth between Tara’s thighs, the abused thong now in a tangle around Kitten’s leg.

As Willow worked her mouth, she felt Tara’s fingers at her forehead, searching for ridges. Finding none, the fingers then curled into Willow’s hair and gripped her hard. Juicy, hot woman began to grind eagerly into her face. Willow didn’t need to breathe, and she was a vampire; Kitten could hump her face until her jaw broke, Willow didn’t care.

With her nose and mouth buried in fleshy, hot Kitten, Willow was in a euphoria from her most primitive level to her most sublime.

She worked fingers into Kitten’s grasping vagina, pumping into those plump lips while her own lips clung to their Tara-pearl prize. The bed rolled and rolled, a carnal rhythm of no end. Willow felt like she and Kitten were caught in an eternal, undulating, sex wave of their own making. A forever fuck.

Willow felt Tara begin to shudder beneath her.

Through her mouth and fingers, Willow felt sucked into the deep welling of sex energy within Kitten. Tension wound and sank and at that precipice of a timeless second, all precious flesh and consciousness stilled. Tara erupted, a rare ejaculation. Willow’s face was bathed in salty essence and as she opened her mouth to the warmth and spray of this gift, she felt she’d been hit by the sea.

* * *

Willow kissed each of Kitten’s inner thighs.

“I missed you both,” she declared. She licked a spot she thought she’d overlooked. Satisfied that Kitten was nicely cleaned up, Willow moved up the languid legs, swirled her tongue in the belly button, then moved further up and gave the same treatment to each of Kitten’s nipples. She leaned in and picked up the string of pearls between Tara’s breasts with her mouth. Kitten lay beneath her, boneless arms flung open and face glowing. The bed undulated, seeming to offer up Tara to the vampire once more. Willow sucked the pearls in.

“What got into you,” Tara murmured, a slow hand reaching up to rub Willow’s human forehead. Obviously she was referring to their sex tussle of just before.

Willow made a show of pulling her mouth away from the pearls, the warm jewels popping slowly from between her pursed lips, two by two. The necklace fell with a wet plop on to Tara’s chest. The vampire snapped the straps of the still present shell cups and finally pulled them off, tossing them to the side. The sight of completely naked, sated Kitten was the best sight, in Willow’s eyes.

“That’s my line,” Willow retorted. “What got into you?” And she emphasized her question by slipping fingers inside her spread Kitten again.

Boink!

“Ow!” Willow said in reflex, feeling something hard and small bounce off her head. That something landed on Kitten’s pearled chest, trapped in the valley of her breasts. Tara picked it up curiously; it was a very large, blue pearl.

The pearl was the size of a giant gumball, iridescent and perfectly formed. Willow had the irresistible desire to put it in her mouth. She reluctantly pulled her fingers out of Kitten’s warm, wet pussy and put the digits in her mouth instead.

“Goddess’s gift,” Tara smiled in appreciative pleasure, showing Willow the lush, glowing jewel. Kitten placed it between her cupped palms and closed her blue eyes, intent on giving silent thanks.

“Yes it is,” Willow agreed, thinking it apt that Tara should be praying while a vampire was lying between her legs. Gotta love sex magic. “Too bad we have to waste it on Buffy.” When Kitten seemed finished with giving thanks to Our Lady of Muscles, Willow plucked the jewel from between her hands.

“And I know just where to hide this from customs,” she stated. She moved down and pushed the huge pearl right into Kitten’s other pair of plump lips. Kitten’s sex swallowed the precious stone neatly.

“Will,” she heard Kitten ground out. The vampire watched her witch’s belly tighten, obviously feeling the delicious, round intrusion. “You--bad--Pussycat.”

Willow perked up. She recognized that tone. Kitten began pulling at the vampire’s pirate’s shirt, revealing her pale shoulders. Willow immediately imagined herself a prisoner on Kitten’s own pirate ship--with the prospect of being whipped--and trembled.

“That’s enough of you in clothes,” Kitten decided. “Get off the bed.”

The lecherous grin (and secret fantasies) was wiped off Willow’s face.

“And take it all off,” Kitten further ordered. Her witch smiled, sexy and promising. “Then put the boots back on.”

Like a very good vampire Puss, Willow jumped off the water bed and complied.

* * *

Dawn peeked coquettishly at the very rim of the horizon. Tara faced the sea, bare breasted and beautiful. She wore her skirt again, which they’d found conveniently within the tent. She wore nothing else beneath it. The very early morning wind picked the fabric up. The material fluttered against Kitten’s bare buttocks and thighs. In her offering hands, she held flowers and the pearls she’d worn. Real pearls, Willow thought forlornly. She’d never let Kitten wear fake ones. Slowly, Tara sacrificed the flowers and pearls to the sea.

As the serene waves took the last of her gifts, Kitten made her way back to Willow. When the wind picked up the skirt and shamelessly flashed a demure and downy haired pussy the vampire’s way, Willow dearly made a wish.

“My Sunnydale for a camera,” she gave up, wondering if Lady Muscles would accommodate. She waited a moment for the hoped for camera. Nope.

“You’re so bad,” she heard Kitten say as she approached. Willow made an ‘oh’ face. Did the vampire just talk out loud? “You could have dressed,” Kitten admonished.

Oh, Willow thought in relief, Kitten meant the lack of clothes. Well, beneath the thick carpet she’d wrapped herself in like a hooded cloak (even the distant dawn could give her quite a suntan), she was all nekkid Willow--in thigh high boots.

“Well what about you,” Willow replied cheekily. “You’re practically sky-clad. By the way, how’s the hidden pearl?”

Kitten blushed all the way down to her bare breasts.

“I wish I had a camera,” Willow softly repeated, watching honey hair fly in the early morning breeze and against those blushing breasts. The dawning light was beginning to outline her witch in softest yellow. Blue eyes twinkled back at her.

“Are you safe for a little while longer?” Kitten asked, indicating the carpet.

“Oh yes, it’s very thick. And I’m wearing boots,” Willow reassured from her carpet hood.

“I love you,” Kitten said, drawing near.

“I love you,” Willow whispered.

They kissed as the fingers of dawn crept up the sands of Copacabana Beach, lightly touching a fully carpeted vampire and a nearly naked witch.


‘Home Again’

Willow stifled a gaping yawn as she and Kitten settled into their first class airline seats. The plane emitted its usual high pitched engine whine as it waited on the tarmac. Funny that only hours before they’d both been standing together nearly naked as jaybirds, Willow mused, the hard earned pearl in their possession, only to now leave for good ol’ Sunnydale. Pity. The vampire resolved to take her Kitten on a real, tropical vacation once this was all over.

Kitten shifted in her seat next to Willow, trying to get more comfortable. Willow had to smile wickedly. It was nice knowing exactly where the pearl was.

“We should come again,” the vampire said, just to say something.

“Oh definitely,” Tara smiled, holding Willow’s hand. She looked very tired but happy. “I’d love to see the goddess again.”

Willow huffed. Not if she could help it. “I never knew you had a thing for muscles,” she remarked cattily.

Tara looked at her curiously.

“You know I like seafood,” Kitten replied slowly. “Except for the shrimp...but you know that.” Tara lightly frowned her ‘Willow’s babbling and I’m not following’ frown.

Willow took a breath. “No, I meant,” she said patiently. “That ‘goddess’. Miss Olympia wannabe.” She made a dismissive gesture. ‘Course, she could crack walnuts with hers,” she muttered. “But you always said mine were lickable. And I know you said Spike was beautiful too, but I always thought that was about his Billy Idol hair. I don’t think he can crack walnuts but maybe with his biceps he can. And me too,” she added a little self-consciously. “I bet I could crack a walnut if I flexed too.”

Kitten frowned some more. She was very fatigued, but she did her utmost best to follow Willow. She did a little bit of Kitten-thinking too. “What did you see?” she finally queried.

“What did you see?” Willow gave back, beginning to feel uncomfortable. She felt even more peevy seeing that delighted, warm smile return to Kitten’s face.

“Maya Angelou,” Kitten answered immediately. “She was Maya Angelou.”

Willow’s jaw dropped. Kitten had all of the award winning poet’s books at home. Maya Angelou was her most favorite writer.

“She was so tall, Will,” Kitten explained to her eagerly. “And big. Such a big woman. And she was so loving. She made me feel really comfortable. Like, like I could do anything. And it would be okay.” Kitten paused and then bit her lip. “So...you saw...?” she asked a little cautiously.

Willow glanced away. “Julia Roberts,” she stiffly lied.

“Julia Roberts can, um...crack walnuts?”

Her lover merely grunted.

Kitten just shook her head. With a knowing grin, she snuck her hand beneath Willow’s loose shirt and gently rubbed the vampire’s ‘lickable’, lightly muscled abdomen. Once she saw Willow reluctantly smile back, Tara settled for letting the strange matter go, and rested her head on Willow’s shoulder.

“I wonder what the next goddesses will be like,” she murmured, placing the back of her hand over her mouth as she yawned.

“Not as nice, Kitten, I don’t think you’ll like them. They’ll be more like Anya when she was evil,” Willow truthfully revealed. The vampire was certainly not going to misrepresent the two upcoming entities to her Kitten. ‘Benevolent’ didn’t exactly describe the next ‘goddess’ they were scheduled to encounter.

“I trust you to keep us safe. Just like with that animatronic giant,” Kitten murmured.

“I slew him good, didn’t I,” Willow smirked. Kitten didn’t answer. She’d fallen asleep.

“Sleep,” Willow incanted softly, passing her hand over Tara’s shut eyelids. A simple sleep spell insured that Kitten would not be rudely awakened until she was sufficiently rested. And if Tara awoke before they landed, maybe they could indulge in that postponed ‘mile highing’ too.

Just to check on the pearl, of course, Willow rationalized to herself.

A loud voiced, friendly fellow in the seats across from them interrupted Willow’s lecherous thoughts. The overly friendly conversationalist was already launching his ‘hi, howya doing’ attack on his beleaguered seat mate. Willow knew the type. His friendliness could go on for hours. She flicked her finger at him.

“Sleep,” she merely said, and the man immediately nodded off, much to his seat mate’s surprise (and relief).

Willow smiled in satisfaction. A Master’s work done, she nestled in with her sleeping Kitten, the waiting plane finally jerking into motion. One pearl down (and very safely tucked away), she thought smugly to herself. And two more to go.

fin.

(Mermaid Kitten is dedicated to eternal mermaid lover, Miss Paige :) ).

next: R. K.

* * *

(end scene) Once the plane was in the air, Willow plucked out the air phone. After following the directions, she dialed for Spike.

“Spike, can you crack walnuts with your butt muscles?” Willow immediately asked.

She listened carefully.

“I bet I can,” she boasted. “Total shatter-butt. What? With your armpit?...Oh! You mean Angelus’s armpit.”

(okay, the end!)

* * *

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