Chapter 1 - Have a Little Faith: Chapter 1--by Volpone

                                        Have a Little Faith

                                           By Volpone
                                            Chapter 1

             The Book landed heavily on the Mayor's desk, still open to the particular page that the room's
two occupants were discussing.
          Faith took a deep breath, causing the black leather of her favorite "whips-and-chains" bodice to
creak alarmingly. C'mon, girl, she told herself, you can handle him. He's a pussycat.
          "C'mon, boss... Just one little favor for your favorite Slayer?", Faith wheedled and smiled at the
Mayor.
          He wasn't upset, but he didn't give in either.
          "First, it's not just a little favor... it would distract me at a time when my energies need to be
focused on my Ascension." Faith opened her mouth to comment, but he raised his hand to forestall the
objection he knew was coming.
          "...And secondly... they're not even lethal. Well, not unless someone dies of a heart attack.
They're smelly, disgusting creatures with the intelligence of foot fungus and the sexual morals of a
Democrat." He stopped and smiled. "Come to think of it, that could be describing half my
constituents. Whadda you know?" He picked up the bowl on his desk and held it out to her. "Gum
drop?"
          "Boss, I only need you to summon it. I'll take care of the rest. It would make a great distraction
when you need it."
          He popped a candy in his mouth and set the bowl back.
          "If you want to summon something, why not something interesting like a salamander. Hmmm.
          A sudden rash of unexplained arsons might shake things up. Now, that'd be a hot one." He chuckled at
his own joke.
          "It's got to be one of these." She tapped the page with her finger for emphasis. "I got my
reasons."
          His voice took on the tone of a stern but loving parent.
          "I've got a pretty good idea of just exactly what kind of reasons those are, and you should be
ashamed of yourself, little missy. That kind of behavior is unseemly in a young lady. I need you to
keep Buffy Summers occupied, and to forget about the rest. And if you insist on...", he looked
pointedly at the Book, "...you'll simply have to find someone else to perform the summoning. We just
had the carpets cleaned in here.
          "Maybe that little Rosenberg girl would help you if you asked her nicely. No... I guess not,
under the circumstances."
          Willow had only recently been the unwilling guest of the mayor and Faith, and the experience
was not one she would be interested in repeating.
          As the mayor stood, he took a towelette from the dispenser and cleaned his hands compulsively.
          "Now, if you will excuse me, I have a small matter to attend to." He tossed the towelette in the trash
and crossed to the door of his study. "And put that back where you found it when you're done." Then
he was gone.
          Faith picked up the Book and looked at the illustration of the page again. A tiny shudder, like a
thrill, ran through her.
          "You bet. I'll put it back where I found it when I'm done, just like you said."
          A sly, self-satisfied look crossed her face.
          "I just may not be done with it quite as quickly as you think."

                                        **********

          "It is essential we find out more about what the Mayor is planning." Wesley polished his
glasses before placing them back on his face.
          "You certainly have a keen grasp of the obvious." Giles was still singularly underwhelmed
with the new watcher's performance. "If I could determine more from the pages Willow brought us, it
might be of immeasurable help, but as it is, we may need a more direct approach to gathering
information."
          "He's definitely not a techno kinda guy," observed Willow. "I doubt that he has anything more
worthwhile hacking."
          Oz looked at her with his proud look. "My Wil... the cyber-felon."
          Not for the first time since they had begun discussing the problem, Giles looked troubled. "No.
I agree that the likelihood of his entrusting any data to a computer which might prove incriminating is
not good. If anything, he will be tidying up loose ends."
          "Anyone consider phone tappage as a possibility?" suggested Buffy. "I mean, why should the
FBI have all the fun?"
          Wesley felt a need to try to reassert control over the proceedings.
          "Besides the illegality of what you suggest and our obvious lack of such listening devices, I
believe that most 'bugs', as I believe they're called, must be installed in the telephone upon which you
intend to listen. This would entail entering the Mayor's offices yet again... a course of action, I might
add, which I am firmly against."
          "I'm afraid I must agree," Giles concurred. "We can't afford to risk another confrontation on the
Mayor's home ground without the gravest need."
          Xander put a hand up and asked, "Excuse me, but what part of 'We're all gonna die!' isn't
covered by the 'gravest need' concept?"
          Giles refused to let Xander's sarcasm deter him. "We know the Mayor's time schedule. His
Ascension is planned for the day of graduation. That gives us a little time. Unless we know something
is imminent, we must not allow him to gain a lever he might use against us."
          "Well," observed Buffy, "waiting for His Dishonor isn't my idea of strategy. It's sort of a non-
Slayer-ish thing. I prefer the more active, wooden-stakey, butt-kicky kinda strategy." When no one
seconded her idea, she added, "What? A girl's gotta have a hobby."
          They were still discussing it while Faith was taking the first step towards her little "diversion".

                                        **********

          It was almost sunset when the bell over the door of the magic shop rang to announce the arrival
of another customer. The gal who ran the store came out expecting to see another curiosity seeker
gawking at all the "wee-ird" stuff... maybe someone interested in a deck of tarot cards or some incense.
          But the young woman who stood waiting didn't look much like her standard visitor. Then she
noticed the book under her arm.
          "How can I help you?"
          It took Faith about a second to take the measure of the young woman. Thin... straight blonde
hair... sort of pretty... about 24 or so... dressed in a tie-dye gunny-sack shirt-dress and headband... a
Dead-head by her guess. She wouldn't be any trouble.
          Faith casually flipped over the "Closed" sign and spun the lock. Then, with a predatory smile,
she forcefully thumped the Book down on the counter.
          "Got a job for ya. Ya see, I need someone to do me a favor... and you just volunteered."
The shopkeeper tried to brazen it out, but judging from the "customer's" appearance, she didn't
have much hope.
          "I think you should leave." She reached for the phone as if to call the police.
          Before she had even touched the receiver, her wrist was grabbed and twisted back painfully, and
with the other hand Faith seized a hand-full of blonde hair and yanked the woman forward, causing her
to let out a cry of pain.
          "Listen, if you want a chance to listen to your Jerry Garcia eight-tracks again, you won't think."
          She drew out a military issue knife and drove it into the counter, severing the phone cord neatly.
          "Oops! Guess you'll have to wait on making that important call."
          Reaching for the Book, she flipped its heavy pages of vellum (or something less savory) quickly
to the passage she wanted.
          "This one. Do it." Her tone was no-nonsense... her look was enough to give the witch running
the shop nightmares. She took several minutes to decipher the text, and her eyes kept creeping back to
the illustration on the opposite page.
          The preparations were fairly straightforward. There were no demonic invocations... no
outrageous ingredients. It was actually phrased more as an invitation than a forceful summoning. Even
as such, it was still more than the white witch had ever dabbled in before.
          "I'm not sure if I can do this. I've never performed something this..."
          Faith smiled in a particularly unfriendly manner.
          "No prob. It's not as if your life depended on it. Oh... that's right. It does."
          The brazier was ready in a matter of minutes, and when she looked at Faith, all she got was an
impatient, "Well?"
          The ingredients went onto the coals one at a time, making a smell somewhere between bad
incense and overdone Brussels sprouts.
          "Just a sec." Faith reached into the backpack she had over one shoulder and produced a gas
mask. Tossing the pack aside, she fitted it in place, her distorted voice came through the odd baffles.
          "Okay... now go."
          As she intoned the odd, Latin phrases, the young witch tried to anticipate just what the result of
her acts was going to be. It involved no restraining pentagram, which was only slightly comforting.
Some of the phrases were understandable as being common invocation formulae such as the call to
Hecate, and the phrase "puer naturus" approximately meant "son of nature", but "filius Priapus" was
one she had no idea about. It wasn't until she got to the phrase "faunus" that she caught what it referred
to.
          And then she was done.
          The smoke from the brazier had coalesced into a heavy, dark cloud, far more opaque than could
have been explained under normal circumstances.
          There was a moment of complete silence.
          Then, a cloven hoof stepped from the smoke, making a slight "clack" on the hardwood floor of
the shop. It was followed by its counterpart, and then the smoke evaporated in a moment, leaving a
new figure standing in the room.
          The satyr wasn't a very threatening looking creature. He was wiry and just over five feet tall,
though he would have been taller if it weren't for the way his legs were formed. He looked fairly
human in many respects. His face was swarthy and rather handsome, with a Mediterranean look.
Short, curly dark brown hair... eyes that were so dark they seemed black... and a neat beard and
mustache completed the look. The only really exotic thing about his face was that he had two small
blunt budding horns showing from slightly above his hairline over his temples. He was bare chested
and muscular, but not bulked up... naturally fit rather than a gym physique. However, from the waist
down, he was mostly shaped like a large goat, complete with brown wooly hair and a brush tail. It was
the manner his legs were jointed that prevented him from standing taller.
          But at the moment, neither woman was looking at his legs.
          It was the satyr's primary feature that held their attention at the moment. Aside from his other
unusual features, the satyr was endowed with a very large, very human looking erection. Curving
upward and reaching to well above his navel, Faith guessed that he must be about twelve inches long.
          Her muffled voice said, "Whoa! Nice package, curly."
          He responded with a single word in some foreign tongue which was obviously a question.
          "Don't bother. Strong and silent is fine by me." Her gesture made it clear she didn't expect a
response.
          Faith suddenly remembered the witch standing nearby, and realized she had allowed herself to
be distracted for a moment as she checked out the mammoth member. She half expected to find the
blonde gone when she turned, but the young woman was standing transfixed, breathing deeply and not
moving, watching the satyr, a slightly glazed look on her face, and Faith was able to observe the spell
of the satyr at work.
          He turned to look at the witch and tilted his head as if evaluating her. Sniffing twice, a small
smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he took a step nearer the blonde. When she didn't move,
he circled her, his hooves tapping as he went, looking her over curiously and taking several deep sniffs
as he moved. It was obvious that his nose was telling him something about the woman that interested
him. As he moved back in front of her, he stopped, leaned very near her and took a long whiff.
          The shopkeeper knew that she should have run when she had the chance, but from the moment
the strong, masculine, animal scent of the satyr had reached her, her body had betrayed her. She was
unable to flee. It wasn't that she was frozen with fear... quite the opposite. She simply couldn't force
herself to leave. She didn't want to leave. This was right where she wanted to be... near him. She
needed to be near him. His scent was overwhelming. He was the most desirable thing she had ever
seen. And she wanted him... now.
          Suddenly, as Faith watched, both the witch and satyr were in motion. The tie-dyed dress of the
witch landed in a heap against one of the tables across the room to be followed by her underwear. She
wasn't wearing a bra.
          The Slayer noticed in passing that the young witch had a much better figure than the dress
would have led one to believe. The firm breasts and curved backside were much more pronounced that
when they had been hidden by fabric. But she didn't have time to evaluate much. In just seconds, the
witch was pulling the satyr down on top of her on the floor, wrapping her legs around his waist in an
attempt to urge him on.
          It proved that the satyr needed no urging. He impaled her with a single motion of his hips, and
she screamed out in a mix of pain and pleasure as he buried himself deep within her, the head of his
cock striking her cervix. She continued to cry out as he stroked into her absolutely drenched pussy,
filling her with each thrust of his rigid member as she ecstatically rocked to meet his strokes.
          After about only twenty seconds of this, the young blonde thrashed wildly and began to gasp. It
was obvious to Faith that she was enjoying a huge orgasm. With a chuckle, the Slayer moved close and
squatted down within a few feet of the couple. Her need to gloat... to degrade... to lord if over other
women was one of the reasons she decided upon this particular form of revenge. It made her feel
superior to all these "uptown bitches" who had always looked down of Faith.
          "Yeah! Ride that meat, sweetie. Take him deep! Fuck him like the cheap slut you always
wanted to be! That's it..."
          She kept up her patter of abuse, all the while becoming more excited herself over the scene
taking place before her eyes, but after the blonde's third orgasm, she stopped taunting and began to
laugh and count, urging her on the yet another climax.
          "Four..."
          The goat-man had come along with the blonde at least once already, but it didn't seem to have
slowed him a bit. The couple had shifted positions and the wicca was straddling his hips, gyrating
madly as she bounced up and down on his huge prick. Faith especially enjoyed the sight of the witch as
her firm breasts jiggled up and down with her motion. It made her look like one of those women in a
porno movie.
          "Seven..."
          They had again shifted positions and now the blonde's breasts were mashed against a low
tabletop, her left knee raised up onto the surface as well, giving him better access as the satyr stood
behind her and drove forward into her.
          "Thirteen..."
          Finally, the blonde's endurance simply gave out. After seventeen separate orgasms (and Faith
thought four for the satyr), the blonde's face was wet with tears, her hair was a matted mop, her breath
was coming in shallow gasps, and her throat was sore from crying out as she came. Her limbs wouldn't
respond any more. The expression she had was devoid of any real thought, her eyes unfocused and
vacant, but the tiniest smile seemed to tug at her lips. She simply collapsed onto the floor and lay there,
the rise and fall of her rapid breathing and an occasional shudder were the only motions of which she
was capable.
          The satyr stood over her prostrate form, his erection as tall and firm as before he had begun, the
only difference being that now it was slick with the blonde's juices and a globule of semen was running
down from the head. He seemed unaffected by the entire experience, as indeed, he was. He was a
creature built for sex... as much and as often as possible.
          He looked at Faith and sniffed. Moving closer, he could smell the sexual excitement coming
from the woman wearing the strange thing over her face. Not as strongly as it had been from the tired
one, but she was aroused. Perhaps she wanted him as well.
          As he moved forward, Faith put out a hand to stop him.
          "Hold on there, Romeo. I'm not on the menu. You put Mr. Happy there on hold until I tell you
to use him, okay?"
          When she shook her head, he understood but was surprised. The brown-haired one did not want
sex with him. She smelled as if she wished sex, but her gesture clearly meant "no". It made no sense.
It was beyond his experience. All women wished sex with him... at least those who were not virgin. It
was why they came to him. He wished the brown-haired one spoke rather than just making noises. He
wished only to please her, as he wished to please all women. Perhaps it would become clear later. He
was pleased to wait until he could again have sex. Perhaps she would feed him. His spirit-energy was
high thanks to the blonde one. She had great vitality and gave to him freely. She was great in her
desires. But now he could use food for the body. He was a stranger here, and did not know how to find
the good plants of this place. The plants in this room were all dried and were unfit for food.
          Faith squatted over the twitching form of the blonde witch to administer her parting shot. She
looked her up and down. The blonde patch of pubic hair between the woman's thighs was thick with
the satyr's sperm, her labia pink and terribly swollen from the abuse they had taken.
          "Look at you... All wet and sticky. Just the perfect little lady, aren't you? I tell you what... if
things work out, I'll bring your boyfriend here back and you can party all over again. Okay?"
          Gathering the globule of sperm from the satyr's cock with a finger, she wiped it off in her
victim's mouth. "A little something to remember us by." She stood and retrieved the book from the
counter. Crossing back to the door of the shop, she gestured to the satyr to follow her.
          "Come on, Ace. I can hardly wait to introduce you to my pal Buffy."
          As they wandered down the dark street, Faith began to move to music that only she could hear,
and after a few moments, her muffled voice began to sing:
                    "When I need something to help me unwind
                    I find a six-foot baby with a one track mind.
                    Smart guys are nowhere... they make demands.
                    Give me a moron with talented hands.
                    The bigger they come, the harder I fall...
                    In love 'til we're done, then they're out in the hall!..."

End of Part 1

*Note: the song Faith sings at the end of the chapter is Julie Brown's "I Like 'Em Big and
Stupid", featured in the movie Earth Girls Are Easy.