Buffy Beaten update

Something was off when Buffy got home, and she was so used to vampires and werewolves that she instantly prepared herself for a fight. Then she realized what was wrong. There was no sign of her mother. No radio on, no dinner cooking on the stove, no Joyce herself to greet Buffy and ask how her day was.

Buffy went to the little nook of the landline phone and calendar, where she could expect to find any notes Joyce might’ve left for her. There was no indication that Joyce was going anywhere. Joyce tried hard to impose some form of order on Buffy’s Slayer chaos, asking to know whenever Buffy went on patrol or needed to go on a mission for Giles; by the same token, Joyce always let Buffy know when something was up. It wasn’t like her to just vanish. She must’ve known Buffy would assume the worst.

“Mom?” Buffy called, starting to wander around, listening sharply for sounds of Joyce, opening doors to see if Joyce was doing a chore in some innocuous and had lost track of time. “Mom? Mom, are you in—“

Joyce suddenly turned the corner… Buffy was shocked to see her. Joyce was wearing a new nightgown—filmy, almost translucent. It was more shade than anything else, doing nothing to hide the hard nipples that crested her tits or the dark triangle of hair nestled between her thighs.

“Mom?” Buffy asked confusedly.

“Buffy, hello…” Buffy was used to her mom being tightly wound, a bit anal, but right now Joyce was giving her the loosest smile Buffy had ever seen. A look of pure, unspooling relaxation, like she was high. “When did you get in?”

“Five minutes ago. Same time I always get in… are you feeling okay?”

“Just fine, Buffy.” Joyce cleared her throat and tried to pull the flimsy nightgown tighter around her body, as if that would hide her any better. Her cheeks blushed fiercely—then she giggled at her own reaction. “I don’t have to tell you how fine I’ve been… I’m sure you’re quite the busy little beaver yourself. Staying up all hours, hanging out with such interesting people… even that Giles is rather cute…”

“Mom! Eww! What’re you talking about?”

Joyce laughed airily. “I think I need to sit down… could you go get me a glass of water?” She swooned her way onto the couch. 

“Yeah… sure…” Buffy replied, beating a retreat to the kitchen.

“I have been far too strict with you, Buffy…” Joyce drawled. “You really are a good girl… you deserve to enjoy yourself… you’re the right age for it. And if you can slay a vampire, why, imagine what you could do with a boy… sure, Mr. Giles might not be able to keep up, but a teenage boy… they’ll just rub it out anyway if you don’t get it from them. Why let it go to waste?”

Buffy’s ears burned as she filled a glass from the sink. “Mom, did you get dressed today?”

“Of course, sweetie. I took off my robe… I showered…” Joyce giggled suddenly, the sound strangely naughty, even scandalous—that was how it struck Buffy, scandalous. “And I put on this new robe Conrad bought for me. Isn’t it nice?”

“Uh-huh. Yeah. I guess…” It was the kind of thing even Buffy wouldn’t have been caught dead in, not that Joyce would’ve even let her wear it around the house. The old Joyce. “Didn’t you go to work?” 

“Oh, no, dear. I called in sick. I needed some ‘me time’,” Joyce said with finger quotes that finally reminded Buffy of her sexless old fuddy-duddy mother. 

“Don’t you mean ‘we time’?” Conrad asked as he came out of the bedroom. He wore a short robe, the hem bristling about his muscular thighs, while the front spread open over his hairy chest. Only the loosely tied belt really preserved his modesty. Joyce tittered as he sat down on the edge of the couch beside her. “Buffy, right? Joyce’s told me so much about you.”

When did you two find the time to talk? Buffy thought viciously, shutting off the water.

As she held up the glass of water, Conrad put up his hand. “No need for that. Why don’t you make it a highball? And make another one for yourself.” He reached over to Joyce, cupping her chin. “She’s old enough for it, don’t you think?”

Joyce giggled some more. “You’re so good with kids.”

“You’re the kid,” Conrad retorted. “You and Buffy look like you could be twins.” He glanced at Buffy, his eyes roaming over her in a way that made goosebumps stand up on the Slayer’s flesh. “I’ll have to think of some way to tell you two apart. Wouldn’t want to accidentally grab hold of Buffy when I want some Joyce.”

His hand stroked Joyce’s leg. She didn’t do anything to stop his caress. 

“I’m gonna go to the Bronze,” Buffy said, feeling a weird tingle as she imagined what Joyce must be feeling.

Joyce instinctively opened her thighs. Conrad’s hand slid a little ways between them. “That’s fine, honey,” Joyce said, her voice high-pitched. “Have fun.”

That was all Buffy could take. “It’s ‘fine’?” she demanded. “It’s a school night! Aren’t you going to ask whether I have homework? I could have a test coming up. I could be grounded—do you even remember whether I’m grounded or not?”

“Of course, sweetie,” Joyce replied, her eyes drawing shut as Conrad moved his fingertips closer to her groin. “But you’re a young lady now—“

“A growing woman,” Conrad added.

“You’re ready to take responsibility for yourself.”

“Take care of your own needs,” Conrad reiterated. 

“If you feel confident in going to the Bronze and enjoying yourself instead of doing homework or getting ready for some test…” Joyce gasped, losing the thought as Conrad rubbed her pussy through the hair of her muff. “Oh, Conrad…”

“Who knows?” Conrad mused, as if he weren’t practically fingering Joyce right in front of Buffy. “Maybe you’ll meet someone. Wouldn’t that be nice, Joyce? If Buffy had a man?”

Joyce giggled like a schoolgirl. 

Buffy stomped her way to the laundry room, grabbing some fresh clothes and stuffing them under her arm. She’d change at Willow’s. She didn’t want to spend another second here while Conrad was treating it as his private bordello.

When she did change, though, she tried not to notice how wet her old panties were.