by CJ


"I'm free."

Those two words, the tone used to utter them, are enough to make me freeze in terror. I knew this day would come, that one day we'd all be forced to pay the price for the way we treated him. I knew that, other than Buffy, I'd be the one to pay the highest. Steeling myself, I turn and look into his eyes. A sharp pain blooms across my face where his fist strikes me, not enough to knock me out, but just enough to hurt.

Spike looks down at where I've fallen, my hand clutching at my now swollen jaw. I see the triumph in his eyes, the knowledge that he wins, that we're back in our proper place on the food chain. But I refuse to beg, I won't give him that satisfaction. Let him beat me, torture me, drain me. Anything he wants, he has the power now. But he'll never hear me beg.

That was the first lie I told myself.

"How?" Pretty stupid, huh? Psychotic killer is now dechipped and I'm hanging around playing 20 questions. I don't know if it's all the time I've spent with Giles and Willow, or if it's just my usual mouthing-off-before-I-think self, but I can't help it. I have to know.

"How, doesn't matter. What matters, is that it's done. I'm free of that bloody chip and now I get to have my fun." Spike squats, bouncing on the toes of his docs as he lights up a cigarette. I look into his eyes and see them flash golden. I know he does it just to scare me more, and it's working. His hands shoot out faster than I can see and suddenly I can't breathe. Pulled to my feet, dragged down the street, I finally black out from lack of oxygen.

When I wake, I'm tied to a very uncomfortable chair and it takes a minute for the reason to catch up with me. I look around to see if I can make out where I am, but the entire...room? building? whatever it is, is completely pitch dark. All except for a small circle of light, directly in front of me. I listen, hearing the eerie footsteps as they approach, raising my eyes to see Spike standing in the center of the light.

"Good, you're awake. I bet you're wondering' why you aren't dead yet. Am I right?" Spike squats before me again and speaks in a low, menacing tone.

"Kinda..." My words are cut off when Spike slaps me. Looking back at him, tears threaten, but I fight them back. I won't let him see me cry. Lie number 2.

"I don't recall telling you to speak." Standing, Spike steps back, into the darkness. Not knowing what's happening is killing me. I want to call out, to see if anyone else is there. I'm almost more afraid for the others than I am for myself. Almost. But I don't call out; the reminder of Spike's rage still making my jaw ache.

From behind me, I hear his voice. He's standing right behind me, close enough to touch if my hands weren't bound and I weren't petrified with fear. "I remember all those nights tied up in your basement, Xander. Thought you hid it well, but I know. You go after every beautiful girl that comes into your life, but none of them could ever give you what you wanted. I used to watch you, walking around the basement in your towel after a shower, or lounging on the sofa in those shorts of yours. Should be illegal, they should. You loved to tease, didn't you? All those times when you tried to pretend you didn't know I was watching, when you'd "accidentally" brush against me."

I try to deny it, but shaking my head only gets me hit again. Tears fall and I can’t stop them. My voice betrays me and I beg him to stop. "Please."

Faster than the blink of an eye, he's standing in front of me, his demon showing in the yellow eyes. Repeated blows strike me in my face, on my shoulders. Each open handed hit marked by a word. "I. Didn't. Give. You. Permission. To. Speak." He roars the words, lost in his rage, and the last sight I see before the darkness claims me again is Spike licking my blood from his nails.

Once more, I wake to find myself surrounded by complete darkness; the circle of light this time is shining on the foot of the bed I've been placed in. I give up on trying to tell if I'm alone or not and go for trying to get out of the bed. That's when I realize three things. One, I'm naked. Two, I'm tied down. Three, there's an oddly slick, squishy feeling in the crack of my ass. Leather cuffs have been placed around my wrists and ankles, attached to chains that leave enough room for me to move my legs to keep them from getting cramped, and for my arms to lie along my side.

Remembering the last couple of times, I refrain from calling out. I can feel a bandage on my shoulder. That must be where the blood came from. What I can't figure out is why I'm naked.

Suddenly Spike's there, bouncing on the end of the bed. I really don't like the smile on his face, it makes him look like the cat that ate the canary. I want to ask who died, but I'm afraid of what the punishment for speaking would be, not to mention not really wanting to know the answer.

"Ya know, you pass out entirely too easily. We'll just have to work on that threshold of yours. But first, while I've got you awake and paying attention, I thought I'd just get down to business. Never know when you're gonna black out on me again. I've got a proposition for you." He sits there, waiting, watching me. "Well? Are you curious? Are you just going ooooo on the inside? Speak boy, answer me!"

"W-what kind of proposition?" I tremble as the words come out, afraid that I'll be beat up again, even though he told me to speak this time.

Spike smiles again, ferally this time, looking at me like I’m the dessert waiting for dinner to be over. His voice, when he speaks, is like honey poured over an open flame, a sweet temptation that you know will burn you.

"Thought you'd never ask, Pet. So, here's the deal. Originally I was just gonna eat you, after fuckin' you, of course. But, I've been thinking a little about our last conversation and I've come to a decision. I'm willing to forego killing your mates." Clamping a hand over my mouth to stop all the questions that want to come tumbling out, Spike's eyes flash golden and he growls low in his chest. I got the hint; the permission to talk was over. "Good, Pet, you're learning'. Like I said, I'm willing to let your friends live, even the Slayer. But only on one condition. That you stay with me of your own free will, be my pet, my servant, for as long as I wish. Now, I'm gonna let go of your mouth and let you answer. But I want you to think about this, think about the fact that if your answer is no, you don't get to die first. In fact, you don't get to die. I'll leave here and go over to Buffy's house and kill each and every person inside it."

He sees the tears in my eyes and raises the other hand to gently brush them away. "Shhh, don't cry. I won't leave you out. I'll bring a couple of them back for you to snack on after I turn you. Then I'll have you resouled and keep you for eternity."

I shake my head slowly, now thankful for the hand over my mouth that keeps back the screams that are ripping at my throat. I struggle for control of myself, knowing the punishment for making him angry. I watch as Spike again brushes away the tears from my eyes, bringing his thumb up to his mouth and sucking at it. "Mmm, grief. Tastes almost as good as fear. So, you gonna scream, rant, rave, any of that if I take my hand away?"

Again, I shake my head, my eyes closed, trying to ward off the visions of my friends murdered. I feel the pressure of his hand lifting from my face and breathe deeply to keep from losing the contents of my stomach. Opening my eyes, I look imploringly at Spike, begging through eyes alone to be allowed to speak.

"You have a question?" Spike raises an eyebrow, smirking and taking pleasure in my pain. At my nod, he inclines his head. "Speak."

"What did you mean by ‘for as long as you wish‘? Do you mean forever? Cause I don't want to be turned." I begged. So I have no pride, so what. At least I'll still be alive.

"Tell ya what, if it makes it easier for ya. As long as you stay willingly, you won't be turned. Bitten, yes. Turned, no. Agreeable?" Spike waves his hand at me; I assume it's to give me permission to speak and I emit a small, girly scream.

"Bitten? Why bitten?" I push myself up on the bed, trying to get as far away from him as I can. He follows, and the light moves with him. It's the first time I think of the possibility that others are in here with us. It adds fuel to my terror. I have to wonder what Spike will let happen to me if I say no. Before he turns me and feeds my friends to my demon, that is.

"You'll be bitten because I say so." Spike reaches towards me and I cringe, afraid of his touch. But instead of lashing out, I feel his fingers press against the pulse in my throat, massaging it. Which is, in a way, more terrifying than any violent meaty fisticuff party he might be thinking of having with my face. "I'll bite right here. No one else will ever touch you after that, you have my word. But it also means that you'll be mine, totally. You'll do as I say, when I say. If I tell you to lick the bathroom clean, you'll say 'Yes, Spike' and do it. If I say breathe, you'll breathe. And if I say die, you'll die."

I choke a little trying to swallow past the lump those words cause in my throat. "Die? I don't wanna die." Crying again, and again he reaches up and brushes away the tears.

Soothingly, he reaches down and takes my hand in his, running his thumb in circles on my palm. "You won't die, Xander. Not as long as you please me. So, is it a deal? You'll be mine and your friends will live? Or will you say no and watch as I kill them all?"

I fight back the flood of images again, giving the tears free reign. "Y-yes."

"Yes, you give yourself to me willingly?" Spike rolls off the bed and stands at the foot of it, pulling back the sheet that is the only cover I have. I lie there, naked and scared, and watch as he begins to unbutton the fly of his jeans. "You have to say the words, Pet. Make sure there's no room for misunderstanding."

"W-what words? I don't know what to say." My whole body trembles as I watch him throw his pants aside. He's standing there in nothing but the tightest black t-shirt I've ever seen and then he reaches down, grabs the hem, and starts to pull it up. My eyes grow huge, taking in his body. I've never seen another guy naked before. Other than myself, of course. And it's just now struck me what it is he's going to do. I know, slow Xander, but can you blame me?

It all falls into place. Me being naked and tied to the bed, the slicky, squishy feeling in my ass. He's going to fuck me. I start crying again, not hearing the mantra of 'Nonononono' that's started up in my head.

He's completely naked when I look back up at him. Watching me with a curious expression. As he begins crawling up the bed, he murmurs words meant to comfort me. "Shhh, it's alright, Pet. Don't be scared. Won't hurt you. Wanna keep you."

He pulls me back down to lie on the bed, and gently lowers himself on top of me. "You know the words, Xander. Say them."

I open my mouth, mind racing for something to say, when I feel a finger pushing into me. The ease with which it slides into my body eases some of the fear of having him take me, but not all. He's much bigger than his finger. He's nibbling along my shoulder, ripping away the bandage to lick at the dried blood from my small wound. He continues, biting harder as he trails up my neck. He stops just below my ear and whispers to me as he slides another finger into my ass.

I close my eyes, not wanting to feel the things I'm feeling, wanting to hold onto my hatred for the monster he's proven himself to be. Finally, my mind clicks. The words come out, mixed with my sobs. "I give myself to you, Spike, of my own free will, until you wish for me to go."

Spike pushes himself up off me and looks down into my face. "Open your eyes, Pet."

I open my eyes and see him staring down at me. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it? I know you hate me, Xander. I know that right now, you wish for nothing more than my death. But I promise, one day you will see why I chose you. Why it *had* to be you."

"Because you like to torture those that can't fight back?" I manage to find some scrap of courage to fling the words at him, knowing that it won’t do any good.

Instantly I regret the words. I watch as what little sympathy had crept into Spike's eyes fled. His demon comes to the fore as he presses the head of his cock against my entrance. I'll never know if he meant to be gentler with me, make it easier. My show of bravado pretty much nixed that idea.

I scream as he pushes himself into me. When he's buried as far as he can go, he stops and gives me a moment to catch my breath. He pushes himself up off of my body, staring at me until I meet his eyes. "You're mine now, Xander. You belong to me; body, mind, and soul. And one day, I will have your heart. One way or the other."

Not letting me think about his words, he pulls his hips back and slams into me. I scream with every thrust until I realize that, as much as I want to get away from him, to not ever let him touch me again, I also crave the next plunge. I whimper my objection as he pulls himself out of my body. And just as I feel that I can't take any more, he buries his fangs in my neck and I see stars. My screams have long since stopped being about the pain and started being encouragement for, much to my shame, I find that I don't really know if I want him to stop.

As I feel him draw the blood from my veins, I wrap my legs around his waist, holding him to me. I grab at his head with my hands, not to push him away as my brain tells me to, but to hold him in place. I cry again as I realize that I actually like it. Hell, I'm getting off on having a demon fuck into me like I'm nothing more than an animated doll. And the feel of his tongue scraping over his mark causes me to shudder in the aftershocks of orgasm.

Yes, I hate him. I loathe every second that he spends on earth. But even now as he rolls off me, taking the chains off my wrists and ankles, I find myself wondering what else he'll do to me. And I sob with the shame of knowing that I crave it.





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