Summary: The missing scene from AtS 5.18 'Origin'. Spike finally finds a way to tussle with Illyria where he comes out on top. Spike/Illyria PWP. *COMPLETED, April 2004* NC17

Author's Note: OK, first off, spoilers for everything in Angel's S5 through the episode 'Origin'. Everyone who's still here cool with that? Good. This takes place between the scene where Angel and Connor come in and Illyria informs them she wants Spike for her pet and the scene where she reappears in Angel's office, saying my is 'sleeping'. My dirty mind naturally goes 'why is he so worn out, Illyria dear? And why exactly do you have that satisfied smile on your face?' (And, yes, I know the answer isn't for the lovely smutty reasons I want it to be. But I can pretend, right? ~_^) So here we have the 'missing scene', a sort of funny pointless PWP where Spike finally gives it to Illyria good. Enjoy! ^_^

Spike let out a little resigned sigh as the newest visitors exited the training room, leaving him alone with his spitfire of a test subject once more. Before he even had the chance to turn around, a powerful fist collided with his cheek, sending him sprawling to the floor once more.

"What was that for?" he demanded, irritated, rising to his feet.

"The satisfying snapping motion your neck makes every time I strike you," Illyria answered seriously, as if it were the most acceptable thing in the world.

Spike, despite being a man of infinite patience (or so he had convinced himself, anyway; this soul had to have a few extra perks thrown in, right?), felt himself snapping once more. He struck out blindly, blinked, and stumbled when his fist met empty air where Illyria had been only moments before. Although, really, for all he knew, it could've been hours. Bloody demoness, messing with time...

"Look," he turned around to face her, exasperated. She appeared to be intently studying the bare white wall on the far side of the training room, but turned to him when he spoke, a mildly bemused expression on her face. "'m supposed to be runnin' these tests. And you, from what 've gathered, promised to cooperate."

Illyria jerked her head to one side, fixing him with cold blue eyes that were just overly largely enough to appear completely alien. "You talk too much," she informed him. "When I make you my pet, I'll be sure to remove your tongue so that you do not bore me."

A low growl grumbled through Spike's chest, and he wanted more than anything to swing at her again. After all, he was no one's pet. But, contrary to whatever rumors Angel had spread around his merry band of evil lawyer types, Spike was, in fact, capable of learning from past mistakes.

See, that was the thing about persistence. He would still break her, to be sure, but that didn't mean he always had to go about it the same way...

Fighting down his anger, his lips twisted into a suggestive smirk, instead. "Remove my tongue, would you, pet?" he emphasized the nickname, just to see if it would get a reaction.

Apparently, all irony was beyond Illyria. She was seriously considering the proposition instead. "That is where I would start," she agreed after a lengthy pause.

He took a somewhat cautious step closer, almost but not quite invading her personal space. "That just proves you wouldn't know the first thing to do with me if I was your 'pet'," he countered smugly.

Illyria's brow furrowed slightly at that, pondering his words. "What do you mean?" she finally demanded.

"Just," he took that final step closer so that their bodies were flush against each other, "that 've been told..." he leaned in to whisper against her ear, his breath tickling the long blue lock of hair that covered it, "that my tongue is one of my best assets..." He let a purr rumble through his chest so that there was no way she couldn't feel it at this nearness. In perfect time with the word 'best', his lips brushed the tip of her ear in a cool caress.

And, of course, inwardly he braced himself to be smacked across the room. It had happened enough times before, after all.

Instead, Illyria shivered. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she took a staggering step back. Some primal remaining instinct of Fred's had reacted to him, was doing the strangest things, making the old human functions active once more. "What are you doing to this body?" she demanded, a hint of fear entering her voice.

She wrapped her arms around herself to try to stave off the shivers, trying to rationalize how this body could he tingling when her heart's beat had suddenly increased. Her heartbeat should be warming her up, not sending subtle signals that she needed to retain her closeness to him in order to gain heat.

Spike couldn't help but grin at her reaction. A bit of the woman left in her, after all. And this woman had no clue what it was she was experiencing. Just made it easier for him to close in for the kill...

"Cold, luv?" he asked innocently, stepping closer once more. This time he circled her body, brushing his lightly against her all the way around.

She shivered again. "W-What power is this?" she asked in something akin to awe. It had never occurred to her that the half-breed possessed additional powers that he had yet to use on her. The notion unnerved her somewhat.

"You spotted it yourself not too long ago." His hand ventured to cup the side of her narrow waist before sliding forward and down. "Lust..."

She did strike out at that but, even to his own amazement, he was able to leap backward in time to avoid the blow. His teasing had thrown her just a little bit off, slowed her down just a tad. Intriguing...

"I do not feel lust," Illyria insisted vehemently, blue eyes flashing and hands closed to fists.

"Prob'ly not," Spike conceded. "But 'd wager that new human body of yours does. Remembers how good it felt to give in and lie back for the ride..."

An outraged exclamation escaped Illyria's lips, and she aimed a high kick at him. Too slow again. He grinned. Annoying bints to the point where they were insensible had always been a particular talent of his.

"Stop it!" Illyria stamped her foot on the ground, looking for all the world like a child throwing a temper tantrum. "You are nothing but a half-breed, and I—"

"You're a demon stuck in a human's body," he retorted. "Seems to me that makes you as much a half-breed as I am." He cocked his head to one side in that infuriating way. "What's the matter, pet? Truth hurt?"

"Y-You...insolent..." A wave seemed to shake through her body, and she calmed down once more. "In my day, you would be tortured by the spirits of primordial darkness themselves for such insolence," she informed him coldly.

He yawned. "Been there; done that; forgot to get my free t-shirt, but no one's perfect, right pet?"

Illyria felt her body's human responses reacting once more to the name. "Do not call me that," she ordered.

"If hell gods, the high-and-mighty slayer herself, and Harris' annoyin' whining didn't get me to stop, then you really don't have much of a chance, pet," he taunted her.

Rage boiled through Illyria once more, and with a shriek she launched herself at him, tackling him back onto the mat. Her hands found his throat with deadly precision, her thighs locking on either side of his waist to hold him in place. And he had the nerve to just smirk up at her!

"Can understand how you'd feel a bit wound up after...how many millennia have you gone without?" he teased her, while at the same time inwardly chiding himself for getting himself killed. Maybe royally pissing off the demon that could kick his ass without breaking a sweat hadn't been the best idea, after all. Huh. Learn something new every day...

"Too many..." The whispered words escaped Illyria's lips before she'd meant them to. With almost comic shock, she removed one hand from his throat to cover her mouth.

Spike inwardly thanked whatever instinct of his had kept him around and kicking all these years. "Right natural that you'd want to have a bitta fun," he assured her. "Can't be all blood and mayhem, right?"

Illyria abruptly became aware of the hard body between her thighs. She was startled to discover that this new human body found such sensations to be...pleasant... "You are a half-breed," she insisted, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself than she was him. "Your form is that of a human. I should not find myself attracted."

"In case you hadn't noticed, your form's pretty much human now, too," he countered. "Doubt you'd even be able to...whatever...with anyone that looked like you did before."

She considered that. "True," she conceded. "I lack the requisite anatomical features."

"Not for me, pet," he purred.

Her eyes widened again with fear. Her desire for this semi-mortal creature was vile, yet she could not deny it. Nor could she deny that it had been far too long since she had secreted eggs with another being. If humanoids even secreted eggs... She thought about that for a moment, before shaking her speculations off. This half-breed could undoubtedly provide adequate instructions for physical pleasure.

"Agreed," she replied. "Now, please me."

Spike just chuckled at the order. Finally got her where I hold all the cards, all the power, all the...experience... "Doesn't work like that, luv," he informed her. "You want your fun, you gotta give a little, too."

Her head jerked to one side. "Unacceptable," she announced, fingers tightening around his throat. "Give me pleasure," she ordered again, "or I will take it from you."

He snickered at that. "And you'd even know where to start?" he countered. "Not that I don't think you had plenty of fun back in the old days, but 'm willing to bet you never much paid attention to how human types got their rocks off."

Illyria was forced to admit that he was correct. "State your terms," she conceded, releasing his throat.

He smiled and lay back. "You're gonna hafta get me excited before I can return the favor," he informed her, comfortably smug now. He'd never imagined he'd actually get to take a poke. Made him hot, though, having a bint this powerful pleasuring him, practically begging him to give it to her.

She nodded. "How do I...get you excited?" she inquired.

"First off," he began in grand lecturing mode now, "you'd better be a mite nicer to me. Don't fancy gettin' beat down while 'm gettin' a girl off." He frowned at that for a second. "Most of the time, at least," he conceded.

Illyria stared down at him, looking anything but convinced. "I do not believe you. I will simply slice your body open and retrieve your egg sacks."

Spike coughed in disbelief at that. "OK, tip number two, luv. There are no 'egg sacks' involved."

She frowned. "You lie."

"Cross my heart," he insisted.

"How can my body be reacting as if to receive pleasure if no egg sacks are involved?" she demanded.

He rolled his eyes. "Know how to get a bloke hot, you do," he muttered under his breath. With a sigh, he sat up so that she was now sitting in his lap, straddling him, their faces inches apart. "Works different for us, luv," he repeated. "Best I just show you."

"Do so," she agreed.

"No biting," he instructed her, leaning in.

"Why not?"

"It ruins the pleasure."

"I think it would be quite pleasurable to bite you," she retorted.

He shivered at that. One of the top ten phrases to drive a vampire wild, right there. "Later," he assured her. "Not at this phase."

She nodded her agreement.

His arms slipped around her waist, holding her well nigh gorgeous body against him, and his lips descended upon hers slowly in a gentle kiss. He moved his lips against hers softly at first, but pulled back when she remained as still as a statue beneath him.

"A little participation would be appreciated," he informed her sarcastically.

"I do not see what purpose a kiss serves," she objected.

"You're tryin' to get me hot, luv, remember?" he prodded.

"The exchange of saliva will increase your body temperate?"

He rolled his eyes. "Somethin' like that."

"Very well." She sounded very put-upon.

He cautiously leaned in to kiss her again, smiling against her lips when they parted for him this time. His tongue plunged deep inside her mouth, foreshadowing what his aching cock planned to do to her all too soon.

Illyria's eyes widened in surprise at the pleasurable sensations stemming from her mouth. Apparently the exchange of saliva did, indeed, make human bodies warmer because hers felt as though it was burning. His tongue wrapped around hers, sending little twinges down her nerve endings. Strangely enough, all the nerves seemed to lead to one place, the junction between her thighs where she was straddling him. It was really quite enjoyable.

Eager to enhance her sensations, her tongue began to move against his. The forked tips wrapped around him, rubbing against him slowly.

Spike froze in surprise for one second at what his tongue was feeling. He opened his eyes to find that Illyria was still staring at him in that intense way of hers, eyes not even blinking even though they were only inches away from his face. It was unnerving, alien. But then he got around to thinking what a forked tongue could do to other areas of his anatomy, and suddenly all those differences didn't matter anymore.

With a groan, he attacked her lips even more harshly, pushing her down to the mat beneath him, fingers fumbling at the ties of that oh-so-skintight outfit of hers.

A low humming sound vibrated through her chest when his hips thrust up between hers, grinding against that place that all nerve endings led to. However, she made an annoyed sound when his lips left hers. "I demand more saliva exchange," she informed him.

He looked up at her from where his lips were hovering over the recently bared flesh above her collarbone. "More than one way to, er, exchange saliva," he assured her.

She cocked her head to one side. "Demonstrate," she requested, curious.

Slowly, his lips descended on her flesh, his tongue flicking out to taste flesh that wasn't quite human. He began tracing her collarbone, moving ever upward until he reached her throbbing pulse-point. Bit at it lightly with blunt teeth before trailing back down, focusing on her demonic features this time. Vampiric ridges were particularly sensitive; time to test out whether the principle worked just as well for other demons.

Unbidden, a gasp escaped Illyria's lips as his mouth found the blue-tinted flesh at the side of her throat, licked along sensitive skin that had nothing to do with being human and everything to do with being her. His mouth moved ever lower, and she spasmed beneath him in pleasure.

Her own fingers moved to aid him as he tried to remove her breastplate. Oddly, the costume to which she was so accustomed was beginning to chafe. She wondered if part of this mating ritual would involve the shedding of skin.

But then Spike's tongue swirled around the bluish bud of her nipple, and the chafing was suddenly replaced with delight. Yet another pleasurable exchange of saliva to explore. Her hands instinctively caught in his platinum hair, forced him stay put as her flesh tingled and released gratifying chemicals into her bloodstream.

He tried to raise his head, and she stopped him, forcing his mouth back down. He didn't lick her and suck her this time, however, the way she wanted to be touched. She frowned.

"Continue to pleasure me," she instructed.

He tisked her. "Remember what I said about givin' a little and getting a little?" he reminded her.

"You wish for me to pleasure you," she concluded.

"Atta girl," he grinned, giving her behind an encouraging pat. He rolled off of her and removed his duster, folding it carefully and placing it to the side. He had her eating out of his hand now, true, but he still didn't want to risk the leather to what was fast becoming a very horny – and hence probably destructive – demoness. He pulled his shirt over his head with less care before unfastening his belt, kicking his boots off and his jeans.

Illyria watched him with slow, blinking eyes, studying his physiology. Scattered remains of Fred's memory indicated all too well that his appearance was most impressive. She wasn't about to tell her future pet that, however. "Unimpressive," she said blankly.

He lay back with a cocky grin, stroking his hardening length lazily with one hand, the other folded behind his head. "Say that when it's makin' you scream," he challenged.

She frowned. "No power you possess could ever make me scream," she insisted adamantly.

"Sounds like a challenge to me, luv," he purred. "Now, come over here and return a favor."

She moved to do so, found her half-removed garments a hassle, and slid gracefully out of them.

Spike breathed a sharp intake of breath when her full nude body was bared before him. He took ample time to notice that the blue crisscross marks that highlighted the sides of her arms, throat, and breasts went all the way down. He licked his lips at the blue curls at the apex of her sex. Different, but beautiful and oh-so-tasty nonetheless.

"How shall I pleasure you?" she asked curiously.

He groaned. Most perfect sentence in the English language as far as he was concerned. "Do like I did," he instructed. "Use that lovely tongue of yours."

Apparently, she took his instructions literally because her tongue followed the exact same path his did. He let out a contented sigh when that delightfully forked tongue flicked out to trace his collarbone, one tine caressing each side. She found his throat, bit lightly, then moved down to his nipple. And that was when he realized that the fork in her tongue had as much dexterity as her fingers.

Illyria's unblinking eyes studied him as he writhed beneath her. The pleasures of saliva exchange worked both ways, it seemed. Although this particular part had no benefit for her. She quickly grew bored of it and stopped.

Spike whimpered and looked up at her when that amazing tongue of hers left his flesh. "Problem, pet?" he asked huskily.

"This is most unsatisfying. It brings my body little pleasure at all," she insisted.

He rolled his eyes heavenward, looking for guidance...for seducing an evil demon. Hmm, maybe heaven wasn't the best place to turn. "Look," he explained as patiently as he could, "'m not gonna be able to get you off until 'm probably seen to. 'S just the way it works."

She just looked at him, completely naked and beautiful, and apparently oblivious to both facts. "Human sex is inefficient," she stated. "And its rewards are vastly inferior to those of my previous form. I cannot comprehend why you would wish to exist with only such shallow delights as your reward."

His scarred eyebrow rose. "Sex?" he repeated pointedly. "Luv, the sex hasn't even started yet."

Her eyes visibly widened, excited and bright blue. "This is how it feels...before we even start?" she asked in amazement.

He grinned, tongue curling up beneath his bottom teeth. "Would I lie to you?"

She frowned. "I am not certain yet," she answered.

He groaned. "Rhetorical question." His excitement began to wane at all these irritating distractions, but then he took in the perfect demon body just waiting for him to – well, not corrupt, exactly – re-corrupt. Made him harder than hell. "All right, this time 'll try to give you a bit of a free sample," he informed her, rolling her body beneath him again.

Her legs encircled his waist instinctively, but the motion was foiled when he slid down her body until his mouth was level with her tangled blue curls.

"'ll show you just how much you'd miss this tongue," he teased.

"It is...adequate..." she began. And then gasped in surprise in delight.

Spike looked down at her parted folds, surprised to discover that despite the coloring of her wiry curls, her slit was as pink and human-looking as ever. He leaned in and slowly breathed a stream of cool air against her distended clit.

A little gasp escaped her lips, and her hips jerked up beneath him.

Satisfied that everything was still working the same way he was used to, he bent down to taste her, lips wrapping around her clit, twisting and pulling, drawing little mewls of ecstasy from her throat. Traced her slit up and down and lapped up her juices.

And, oh, did she scream when his tongue pierced deep inside her body.

Well, more like made disjointed shrieking sounds and jerked spasmodically almost like time was jumping about erratically around her. It didn't seem to detract from his skills in any way, he was happy to note.

He finally rose from between her thighs, smiling in a self-satisfied way at the panting demon beneath him. Before he could crawl his way back up, however, steely legs clamped around his head, forcing him back down.

"I said corrected," she said coolly, despite her recent loss of control. "It would be a shame, indeed, to remove that tongue. I shall remove your voice box instead. Now, pleasure me again."

Spike found his face trapped at the source of her sex, but he didn't do a damn thing. "Christ, you're just like my ex," he complained with a roll of his eyes.

Illyria frowned. "I ordered you to pleasure me. Your tongue will serve me."

"My tongue will do whatever it damn well pleases," he retorted, "and right now it feels like...what was the word you used?" He smirked. "Oh yeah, bein' insolent."

She sat up in a lightning-quick motion, caught her nails roughly in his hair, and yanked his head back. "You will obey me, or you will suffer," she hissed menacingly.

He let out a bark of laughter in response. "Gonna torture me, is that it? Try your worst, pet. If the First didn't break me, I doubt you will."

Her confident expression faltered at that. "You have suffered the First's torments?" she asked in disbelief.

He shrugged. "Piece of cake."

She faltered. "I do not believe you," she insisted vehemently. "You are so easy to hurt."

"Not where it counts, luv," he insisted, leaning in close. "So you better straighten up and play my way, or buy yourself a very good vibrator."

She didn't understand that last phrase, but his meaning was all too clear. "Very well," she conceded reluctantly. "What must I do?"

He grinned and wrapped that long blue-and-brown hair through his fingers, holding it so tight it was almost painful. "Just one favor," he assured her before jerking her head down roughly so that she was eye-level with his throbbing erection. "Give us a good blow."

"I do not understand."

"Use that tongue on me. Take me into that luscious mouth – shouldn't be much of a problem since you fit all those petri dishes in there just fine – and remember not to bite."

She processed these instructions for a second before complying.

He groaned at the first feel of her tongue on his sensitive length, and he had been right – she fit him all the way inside without a hitch. That was the best thing about arrogant bints; they always had big mouths. And, while her technique left much to be desired, just seeing those haughty lips wrapped around the base of his dick, letting him fuck her mouth at will, was enough to get him off.

He pulled out in less than a minute. Oh, he'd make her swallow his cum soon enough. He just didn't want her getting bored at the critical minute again. That could shift the power back in her favor again, and now that he had it, he wasn't ever giving it up.

"On your back," he ordered.

She gave him an imperious look. "I do not take orders from half-breeds."

"Fine, then," he shrugged. "Was about to give you all the pleasure you've been askin' for, but since you don't seem to want it..."

"Very well." Her voice was tight and angry, but she lay back on the mat for him.

With a grin, he crawled up her nude body, slipped between her thighs. She gasped when the tip of his erection brushed her outer folds.

"W-Why does my body react so positively whenever you are between my legs?" she demanded.

He grinned at her, tried a little dirty talk. "Wants to be fucked good, 'd wager," he answered and, at the same moment, thrust as hard as he could into her slick passage.

Her eyes widened and her hands clenched around his arms, but then he began thrusting inside of her, and she realized it wasn't an attack. It was more wonderful than anything she had ever imagined...

"That is pleasurable," she informed him. "Repeat it."

"With pleasure, pet," he agreed, abandoning his control and slamming into her with his full force. Only his hands holding her shoulders down keep her from jerking across the mat with each thrust. He pounded her good and hard, ground his pelvis into her clit with each upstroke, made her gasp and finally close those endlessly blue eyes.

"Give it to you good, pet," he growled against her, taking out all his frustrations on her bruised cunt, "make you beg me...make you scream..."

Illyria wished to correct his words, but she found herself unable to speak. The only sounds her voice seemed to make were little gasps and moans, and soon she couldn't even focus on those because the pleasure was overwhelming, and for a second she thought Spike had lied to her and this was some new power he was using on her, but then everything exploded into pleasure. Pleasure like nothing she'd ever experienced before.

True, this body was limited, but its very limits were what allowed it to fill to completion with ecstasy, to fill to completion with him...

A ragged cry escaped her lips as her orgasm crashed over her, the world dissolving into shimmering white light so that she almost thought that she'd transcended reality once more in that moment.

With a satisfied growl at Illyria's final completion, Spike thrust roughly into her body a few more times, found his own release, shot his seed up into her womb, and collapsed.

There was a moment's pause while both demons panted and recovered. Finally, Spike pulled out and Illyria frowned, glancing down at her stomach.

"You have injected this body with parasites designed to seed themselves within me and consume my biological functions."

Spike blinked up at her in disbelief. "Only you could make the miracle of conception sound like Alien 3," he muttered in complaint. "Besides, luv, 'm shootin' blanks. You're safe."

"Shooting...blanks?" she repeated, confused.

He groaned. "My 'parasites' are unable to 'seed themselves' in you," he used her terms.

She nodded. "I would expect nothing less from a half-breed," she agreed.

"Hey!" he complained. "If you're castin' aspersions on my manhood..." His eyes narrowed.

"Other than the...stickiness, I have no complaints," she informed him matter-of-factly.

"'No complaints'? Oh yeah, pet, you're hot with the pillow talk," he grumbled.

She continued to ignore him. "However, I must express dissatisfaction that I am unable to force you to pleasure me at will. It will make you a...difficult pet..."

He grinned at that. "Gettin' better at the sweet-talk, I see," he purred, nuzzling his forehead into the bend of her throat.

She frowned as her body reacted to his nearness once more. "The only conclusion seems to be a compromise," she admitted reluctantly. "You will continue to pleasure me, and I will continue to pleasure you."

"Sounds like a plan, pet."

"And you must stop calling me 'pet'."

"Make me," he grinned.

"Insolent..." she scowled.

"Makes for better fucking," he retorted.

She considered that. Nodded. "Fuck me again," she requested, the new words sounding a bit stilted.

He grinned. "I like a woman who learns fast," he informed her. And proceeded to accede to her request...

"Most satisfactory," Illyria said over an hour later, panting once more from exertion. "Again!"

He sighed and gave it to her once more, flipping her over on top...

"Again!"

"Again."

"Again..."

Fully exhausted, Spike collapsed limply at her side completely spent. Why did he always go for women that had stamina to match his own? He grinned at the memory of the past few hours and got his answer.

"Impressive," Illyria finally conceded, lying back wearily as well. "Perhaps human existence isn't so meager as I imagined."

"And that was only a fraction of my repertoire you got there, pet," he responded cockily.

She figured she should probably hit him for his continued insistence that she was the pet, but couldn't seem to summon the energy. "Do all humanoid males possess this same ability for pleasuring?" she asked instead.

"Basically yes," Spike agreed. "But the rest of 'em are smaller, less skilled, and can't last as long," his ego said with pride. "Don't even bother considerin' it with Angel or that booky ponce you've been hangin' with. Wouldn't last more'n a minute." A little insulting to the competition never hurt, either.

"That would be...most unsatisfactory," Illyria agreed. She sighed and lay back on the mat. "I require an uninterrupted interval in which to recover my energy," she informed him before she stilled, eyes still open wide and looking at the ceiling.

He frowned and waved his hand in front of her face. Got no reaction, and breathed a sigh of relief. "Almost beat me there, luv," he murmured before drifting off to sleep as well, nightmares filled with endless repetitions of the word 'again'...

Illyria revived from her recharging a little over an hour later and was disappointed to discover that Spike was still asleep. Her body already was gearing up for more sex, but that seemed an unlikely proposition. Instead, she left him lying naked on the mat and dressed herself once more. The stickiness between her thighs that she had complained about before remained. Irritating, but perhaps the price that must be paid for such pleasure. Such concepts weren't alien to her.

She left Spike alone since he was of little use to her while he was sleeping. Her Spike pet's purpose was for fucking. Well, hitting in the head as well, but mostly fucking. He was unable to serve his function while sleeping, so she sought out her Wesley pet instead. His purpose was for puzzling her by the strangeness of humanity and staving off boredom.

She found another of the half-breeds in her search – the blonde female whom Fred's memories informed her had also found Spike useful for fucking – and agreed to acquiesce to the requests of another demon with such competent mental faculties.

She came upon the others. "Spike is...sleeping..." she answered their inquiring looks, and will continue to enjoy being my new pet when he awakes, she added in her head. And, smiling to herself at the pleasure she had just obtained, found herself ready to explore new avenues of enjoyment now...