Shattered Shards 1/18
This is an Angelus/Spike/Buffy/Dawn fic (so far, but I have plans on dragging other characters in). It's based at the end of the Angel show, but before the show ended, Angel lost his soul. Poor thing, such a shame. It's an alternate universe, whatever you want to call it. If parts of it don't make sense along the way the shows actually interlaced, or time lines, or things happen in the story that didn't happen in the show, WHATEVER. I don't want any flack. I made this up, I call "alternate universe so it makes sense".
Normal disclaimer, these are not my characters, I am making no profit off this, and I return the characters used to those that made them. I just borrowed them for my twisted fantasy.
Let me know what you think please.
Title: Shattered Shards
Pairings: Spike/Angelus, Angelus/Dawn, Angelus/Buffy, tons more to come
Appropriate Ratings:NC17
Warnings: Rape, non-con, slavery, abuse, torture, anything and everything bad and not nice. Do not read if you are squeamish. I'm told it's better in small doses Het, slash, and possibly other things down the line, just not yet.
Disclaimers: Not my characters, I make no money off them, I'm only playing.
Short Summary: Wolfram and Hart took out Angelus's soul, and Angelus has Dawn and Spike and Buffy prisoner. He's having fun breaking them, torturing them, and pretty much making their existance a living hell.
Word Count: 7512 (As per MS Word Count)
Cross Posted To: My IJ, a_darker_angel, Darker_Spike, btvsats_love
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Banner by: Tamakin84
So it begins...
She woke up to the steady sound of dripping. The sound seemed to echo as the drops hit the stone floor, splashing outwards, spraying the walls. She blinked carefully, her mouth as dry as parchment. Carefully she swallowed, feeling the sand paper dryness of her throat and mouth, which only triggers more convulsive swallows until her throat is properly lubricated. Carefully she lifted her head, confused as to why it seemed to be hard to balance on her neck. Moving to rub her temples to ease the throbbing, she found she couldn’t. Something cold and metal encircled them; the harsh clink of rattling chains seemed to echo loudly with each movement.
“Wh-wh-what?” she stammered, confused, her voice rusty from disuse, her mind unable to focus, feeling like someone had scooped out her brains as she slept and stuffed cotton balls in their place.
Cold laughter echoed through the space, and recognition of its owner shoved away the drug induced haze. The soot stained stone came suddenly into painfully sharp focus.
The smell hit her then. The stench of rancid blood and putrefied flesh dancing for dominion with the other, causing her stomach to roll and protest. Her eyes darted around wildly, identifying the sources of the stench. Bodies in various stages of decomposition piled against the walls in no obvious order or care. She watched drops of blood trickle down an outstretched lifeless arm, welling at the finger tips only to fall onto the filthy stone floor to splatter and stain.
“Buffy…” Her name sighed through the room, drawing goose bumps along her bare flesh… which was when she noticed she was nude, with only steel manacles upon wrists and ankles as adornment. Buffy stared incredulously at the manacles, at the chains they were attached to that disappeared into the wall. Her arms were stretched above her head, loosely so she could still struggle but taught enough that struggling wouldn’t accomplish anything. The same was done with her legs, ankles securely fastened. Each chain had quite a bit of length to them, but the length was shortened by placing a link of chain into steel railway spikes that had been driven deep into the floor. It made it easy to control her ability of movement, without having to attach new chains when a different length was needed.
She took stock of her situation. Flat on her back, chained spread eagle, without a scrap of clothing, and… he was calling her name. Again that chilling laugh seemed to engulf her with fear, dread and horror, nightmares she’d thought she’d forgotten slipping in front of all other thought.
“Angel?” She whimpers out, ashamed that her voice quavers and cracks instead of coming out strong and confident.
“Oohhhh so close… but so very very wrong…” the sing song voice calls out.
Buffy can feel tears building up in her eyes, unbidden and out of her control to deny. Drawing in a ragged breath, she instinctively holds it when he calls out again.
“Oh Buffy… the smell of your fear…” She can hear him draw in a happy delightful lungful of air, “has always aroused me. Your scent just fills me… until it feels like I’m just going to burst from anticipation alone,” he groans out, suddenly at her head, leaning against the wall wearing nothing but comfortable thin cotton slacks held to his body with a thick leather belt and a plain linen shirt. His erection was clearly visible to any who looked, and Buffy couldn’t help herself from looking, quickly dancing her eyes away from the thick and heavy looking bulge.
He chuckled darkly as he noted her gaze, which only made her blush darkly in response.
Swallowing back a whimper of fear, she spoke. “Angel, you don’t-”
A sharp slap sent her head spinning, and the words flew out of her head before she could finish saying them. She felt him sit on her hips, straddling her, holding her down. Buffy clenched her eyes tightly shut, and licked the small trickle of blood seeping from her split lip… and felt him squirm on top of her, felt the movement of cloth as his cock pulsed at the sight of her blood, the scent.
He let out a breath slowly, and she felt soft shudders and shivers moving down his body as he exhaled. Suddenly his eyes opened, and her lunged towards her, game face on, mouth wide open. She screamed, trying to throw him off her, wildly trying to keep him away from her neck, only to freeze when he lapped at her split lip instead. He licked the cut softly, tenderly, gently kissing it. Again he breathed in and let out another shudder, this time unable to hide the moan. “You’ve always tasted so good Buffy. I used to dream about the other tastes I’ve had, wanting nothing more then to taste it again… and now I can.” His face returned to its human mask. “You’re all mine Buffy.” He laughed brightly, clapped his hands and jumped up, doing a spin, and excitedly walked over her body.
“Angel, please, don’t do this.”
“I’m not Angel pet, and trust me; nothing is going to stop me.” And with that, he walked away, out of her line of vision. His footsteps echoed in the empty space, and then stopped. There was a soft rustling, and then he re-appeared, quickly jumping to tighten the chain, stretching her to utter immobility when he placed another link of the chain around the spike at above her head and below her feet. Her shoulders felt like they were going to pop out if he tightened the chain even another inch.
He cheerfully straddled her knees, and sat on them, something held behind his back. “Buffy, sweet dear Buffy… you’ll always be mine, always.” And with that, he plunged a white hot branding iron into the flesh just above her mons, on the left side, where her thigh met her lover tummy. She screamed. She couldn’t help but scream as he held the iron in place for a few seconds, pressing down hard to make sure the imprint was clear. He then threw the branding iron across the room, the sound of it clanking and hitting objects was loud in the room, as Buffy quietly sobbed, and Angelus bent down to kiss her owchie better. “Mine,” was all he said, as he got up, a possessive look on his face.
“Angelus, what do you want-”
A sharp slap sent her head reeling, and the words flew out of her mind before she could finish saying them.
"What I want, dear little Slayer, is for you to shut the fuck up." He smiled then, sweetly, almost tenderly, the smile that could make her knees melt, and her thighs to part. "Unless it's begging. I like begging, and whimpering, and moaning... pretty much any sound that bypasses your mind, and is just.... instinct." He drew his hand along her right side, stroking softly, his thumb gently flicking her nipple. She drew in a sharp breath, and bit her lip, and he smiled again. "Just like those ones."
She struggled to sit up, to move away from his cold intimate touch, but the chains didn't let her move beyond her supine position. He laughed softly, and did it again. "You squirm, and little Angelus squirms, see?" She couldn't help but look as his hands dug cruelly into her hair, his nails digging into her scalp, turning her head to look at his crotch. She looked, saw it jump in his slacks, and quickly closed her eyes, looking away as much as she was able, her chin trembling in defiance and fear.
He let go of her head, letting it drop with a thump onto the stone floor. Swiftly, before she had a chance to register his movement, he slapped her hard, open handed across the left side of her face. She felt a bruise start to swell up, her eyes watering, the left one starting to close up. Tasting blood in her mouth, she spat it out, tongue stroking her newly split again lip. The fact that one eye was slowly swelling shut didn’t stop her from shooting him a venomous glare.
"You are going to be so fun to break. I plan on shattering you, into millions of little pieces, my little princess. I'm going to make what I did to Drusilla look like ..." His voice drifted off when his eyes glinted yellow and locked on the puddle of crimson on the floor. He dipped his fingers in the blood she had spat out, and licked them clean, sighing softly as his tongue snaked out to make sure none was wasted.
"Slayer blood... is truly an aphrodisiac..." He seemed lost in the sensations drifting through him, eyes almost dreamy. Without warning his face morphed into the demon, and he lunged forward like a striking cobra, fangs piercing the skin of her breast just over her nipple. He sucked hungrily at the wound, occaisionally slipping his tongue out to play with the nipple, tormenting her with pain and pleasure. She screamed in surprise and pain, it was impossible not to. His attack was sudden, vicious, painful... and before the scream finished falling from her lips, he was holding her closer, one arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her body against his, rubbing his clothed erection against her bare hip while he suckled at the wound, and nibbled her nipple teasingly with dull teeth.
He pulled away gently, licking softly at the wound, and kissed lightly across her chest to her other breast, to lick and suckle at her other nipple. She stayed tense beneath him, expecting another vicious attack, another bite... but he stayed gentle, almost tender. She knew Angelus was an artist. Knew he would always leave her guessing, playing his torturous games on her. She knew what he was capable of, and it scared her, she accepted that. She knew most people would be terrified of being at Angelus's mercy, but she also knew he wouldn't be able to break her. She knew his games too well, and she was a damned stubborn bitch when she had to be.
What she hadn't counted on was Angelus knowing her as well as Angel did. He knew she wouldn't break easily, that was half the fun! But he also knew exactly how to break her. Attacking the Slayer was a start, torturing her was fun, but it wouldn't get the job done. She'd rather die than break in his hands. But he knew her weakness. Her weakness was love. Love for Angel, for her friends, even her mystical not-quite-sister... and for Spike. He knew about their affair, their emotions for each other, who wouldn't? Who couldn't smell the lust in the air as soon as they got close to each other? He was stunned her friends hadn't caught on sooner then they had, but hey, stupid mortal sheep. They didn’t even notice when Xander hid bruises and sprains that clearly didn’t come from demon hunting, or when Willow finally found the lesbian inside, or even when Dawn was stealing. They didn’t notice anything unless their noses were rubbed into. Of course, he’d take advantage of that little fact… too much fun to be had not to.
He knew, for her friends, she'd do anything. She'd died for them, over and over again. She'd abused her body in training, and missions, and just everyday patrolling. She knew her role was protector... and that was what he'd use. He got up from her body, licking his lips clean, watching the blood trickle down her right breast, pooling between them. He grimaced softly. "You lost weight Slayer. Too much weight, really. No more curves, no more places to hold you that don't feel like holding a chicken wing. Really, you should take better care of yourself. We'll see to it you are fed, properly. Add a little padding, re-create that arse you used to have, and watch those breasts grow so we can at LEAST get a mouth full out of one."
He got up, and puttered around for a bit, his back was to her, so she couldn't see what he was doing at the counter across the room from her, he did so love to keep her in suspense. When he turned to face her once more, his hands were behind his back, but she could hear a faint jingling, almost like bells, coming from his hands. He straddled her body sitting on her tummy, his back to her face, his hands before him, again hiding what he had, what he was going to do. He forced what felt like leather beneath her arse, and quickly, without warning, slid a pocket rocket into her cunt, and one into her arse. Swiftly, he did up the jingling buckles of the leather panties, holding the vibrators in place, so she couldn't push them out.
"There we go!" He slapped her leather clad cunt hard, making the vibrators jump inside her, making her gasp in surprise. "All better." He took a small remote from his pocket, and played with the dials, making the vibrators change patterns and intensity independently of each other. "You are going to be fun Slayer... it's going to be like nothing you've ever dreamed of... nothing you've ever imagined... what would be the fun in that, doing what you expect? I like to keep my pets jumping, squirming, and begging for me... but for you, dear Slayer; it's going to be hell. Just like the one you sent me too." She saw his jaw tighten, his gaze go steely, and watched as he got off her. He cruelly flipped her onto her side, making her twist her arms above her head, and her legs, so she could see more of that side of the room. She bit back a pained cry, feeling muscles tear under the strain, wondering if she’d dislocate any joints. Through the faint haze of pain she saw a curtained off partition, and watched as her former lover pranced over to it, suddenly in high spirits again.
"I have a surprise for you!” HE was practically bouncing in excitement, a beaming coldly false smile on his face. “TADAH!" He exclaimed and with a flamboyant twist and pull he opened the curtains, revealing a pale, huddled form. She took in the bruises, from black to yellow, mottling the skin. Blood oozed from burns here and there, it wasn't until she saw the burns in the shape of crosses that she understood it was a vampire, shuddering and shaking on the floor. It took her even longer to recognize the vampire as her lover and friend.
"SPIKE!" She screamed, struggling again in her chains, hearing them barely audibly strain. Her eyes were locked on Spike, as she struggled to break the chains, to get free, to save him. She only stopped when she realized, Anglus was just watching her, a small smirk on his face, his hands stroking his rock hard cock.
"When you struggle... and scream, it really is quite a sight. Makes me want to just eat you alive. Thankfully, I have more control then that. Wouldn't do to end the party so soon, now would it? William now... William is re-learning his role. I'm somewhat surprised at how long it took to break him, but I think the whole 'he has a soul' thing probably had something to do with it... but he's mine now Slayer. He has his moments of defiance, as any good vampire would have, but he still knows his place, don't you my little William?" He kicked the huddled body harshly, connecting with a very dark bruise, making Spike jump, and cry out like a horridly wounded animal, voice hoarse from abuse. Carefully, hands flat on the floor; he lifted himself to his knees with soft grunts of pain, and crawled towards Angelus. Buffy saw a collar attached to a chain, which was in turn attached to a ring embedded in the stone floor. She saw old bruises, and patches of skin rubbed off, where manacles had once been on his ankles and wrists. His roots had grown in, showing up under his blond dye job, telling her he'd been there for quite some time. She watched him crawl towards Angelus, deaf to her cries, on bleeding knees, to kneel before his Sire and Master.
Angelus took the remote out of his pocket, holding it in his hand, and she watched, horrified, as Spike dutifully undid Angelus's belt and pants, carefully taking them off, folding them, and placing them beside Angelus. She heard Anglus chuckle, and watched as he stroked Spike's hair, almost tenderly, before grabbing it in his fist, and slamming his cock into Spike's open and waiting mouth.
Buffy watched as Angelus skull fucked Spike, watched as his bruised and battered body was subjected to even more torture and degradation. Spike crossed his wrists behind his back, like a programmed robot, holding still except for what Angelus made him do. He was silent; eyes staring blankly ahead, all emotion and reaction seemed to have been drained from his face. Buffy looked away, horrified at what had become of her most recent lover, and her first. She forcibly untwisted her arms and legs despite the pain, and lay on her back, jaw clenched, staring at the ceiling. She didn’t expect the vibrators inside her to suddenly flare into life, pulsing, stroking, and vibrating away inside her. The pattern changed as soon as she understood what it was. She tilted her head, and glared at Angelus, seeing him fuck Spike’s mouth, one hand in his hair, the other holding the remote, and playing with it. She heard Angelus giggle, and saw he was smiling, laughing, enjoying her reactions, and the blow job. He suddenly threw back his head, and looked all serious, grunting softly, he held Spike’s head against his pelvis. Buffy watched as Spike’s throat convulsed, swallowing Angelus’s load of vampiric semen, a surprised moan trembled out of her as an orgasm erupted from her traitorous body.
She arched on the stone, and stilled, panting. Confusion on her face, loathing, fear, surprise, denial…. Angelus read it all, and slowly turned down the vibrators, revving them up suddenly, he held it there for a three count, before turning them off. He laughed as her eyes rolled back for that three count, back arching… before she fell again, panting, licking the sweat from her upper lip, turning her head slowly, she looked again at the pair. Her face slowly shifted from lust glazed, to horror, and confusion. He laughed again, smiling brightly, as her scent wafted over him; un-satisfied lust was a heavy scent, cloying and thick about him. He threw back his head, and arched his back, driving his again hardening cock deeper into Spike’s pliant mouth. He pulled back slightly, emptying Spike’s throat of his cock, allowing Spike to drag unneeded air into his lungs, which was when he blinked, and he slowly seemed more animated, more himself than a well programmed robot. Angelus’s cock popped out of his mouth, and he turned his head, slowly, pale blue eyes growing huge and filling with tears as he recognized the scent.
“NO!” He screamed, lunging towards Buffy, his instincts screaming to protect her, save her, only to be pulled up short by the chain. He coughed and retched at the strength of his self choking, reason climbing slowly back into his brain. He hurried, and kneeled in front of Angelus, hands outstretched in supplication, his tear filled blue eyes meeting Angelus’s brown ones. “Please, Angelus, don’t. Let her go, please, I’ll do anything, please Angelus…” His babbling was cut abruptly short when Angelus raised a single eyebrow.
Angelus leaned over, and patted Spike condescendingly on the head, “But you are already mine, and already do everything I want… because you have no choice. You’ve got nothing to offer boy. She’s always been mine William. I just waited to mark her until today.”
Slowly spike broke down into soft sobs. Utter defeat in every line of his body. This had been his one sanctuary, knowing Buffy, his love, was safe. He’d been able to endure, and accept, because he knew she’d be safe… and now that was taken from him. Angelus chuckled, and squatted in front of Spike. “She’s always been mine boy. You’ve just been too stupid to notice.” He smacked Spike once on top of his head as he got up, and walked over to Buffy, taking off his shirt, and throwing it to Spike to be properly folded.
He leaned over her prone body, and picked something up off a shelf she couldn’t see from her position. He sat down on her knees, and held out a clear amber jar full of some transparent fluid. He popped off the stopper and dug his fingers into it, pulling them out with a faintly amber jelly-like coating on them. “I didn’t think it would be so easy, but dayum baby, Spike must have been keeping you primed. This,” he said, slathering the goop on her brand. Instantly the pain faded and disappeared, “is a reward. You were a good girl, so you get the quick healing salve. It will still scar of course, but at least you won’t get an infection. I’d hate to cut you up to remove an infection. I’d much rather cut you up to make ME happy.”
With a vicious twist of her nipple that caused her to yelp, he climbed off her, putting the jar back on the shelf. He looked back at Spike, and frowned. Spike was holding Angelus’s shirt in his hands, bunched up in fists, as he rocked silently back and forth, staring into space.
“William, what’s the matter with you?” He barked sharply
Spike jumped, startled out of his thoughts, and looked up, sideways, to see Angelus stalking towards him. Spike backed up to the ring he was chained to, and stood up, the length only permitting him to stand in that one place. He tore the shirt in two, throwing the pieces aside. “Sod off, wanker!” and spat on the floor.
Angelus picked up his neatly coiled belt, and stood over him.
“That’s thirty whelp.” Spike visibly blanched, even with his natural graveside pallor.
“I’m the one that misbehaved. Not her. Don’t you touch her!” He tried to lunge again, and again was brought up short by the chain. He struggled uselessly, to attack Angelus, to rip off his metal collar from his abraded throat, to pull the chain from the anchor in the floor.
Buffy watched, stunned, at his protectiveness, his outright fear of what Angelus was capable of. She felt fear, but also confusion. Thirty strikes with a belt, she could handle. She’d handled worse, and came out of it alright. “Spike, I’ll be fine, calm down, please stop hurting yourself.” She stopped pleading when Angelus laughed, and laughed, and laughed.
“You really are that self absorbed, aren’t you? This isn’t about YOU Buffy. This is about me, my pleasure, my joy. You aren’t the only one I love to hear scream.” With a smirk, he moved behind Spike, to yet another partition Buffy hadn’t yet noticed. This one was made of Chinese silk, a folding screen that was slightly larger than the ones Buffy had seen in stores. He folded it up, and leaned it against a stack of decomposing bodies, revealing a slender girl with long brown hair kneeling, and facing a stone wall. Her hands were manacled above her head, her throat was collared, and a chain leading from that collar embedded itself into the wall, immobilizing her quite effectively. Buffy stared as Spike grew more frantic, more desperate, as Angelus got closer to the kneeling girl. Her back was covered in bruises, and cuts, and burns. She looked like she’d barely survived some hideous torture. Buffy felt her heart ache, thinking this must be Spikes new girlfriend, that Spike must love her so very very much to be this frantic to save her, protect her.
Angelus buried his hands in that long hair, absurdly clean, well brushed and maintained. “You knew what would happen Spike. You just forgot your lesson, so I’m teaching it to you again. You have no one to blame but yourself.” He carefully moved the silky long hair over her shoulder, to bare her back even more to his scrutiny. Without warning he struck her exposed back with the folded over belt. Mercilessly, he struck, without a pause or break, and stunningly, Spike counted the strikes through gritted teeth, though he looked away, unable to watch.
The first blow fell, and Buffy heard a voice sobbing that she recognized. As the strikes rained down, the girl started screaming, trying to struggle helplessly against her restrictive bondage.
“DAWN! You sick sadistic son of a bitch, I’m going to KILL YOU! LET HER GO!”
He ignored her, instead concentrating on his work. Dawn screamed and tried to struggle away, but there was no where to go. Spike snarled, and struggled to get to her. Buffy struggled to get to Dawn, Spike, to kill Angelus, anything, but couldn’t move.
When Angelus was finished, he tossed his belt onto the pile of clothing, and looked over at them. The room was suddenly silent, except for Dawn’s steady weeping.
“That was refreshing!” He said cheerily, wiping his hands clean of imaginary dust. He walked towards Spike, and waited a measured distance from the blond vampire. He lifted a single eyebrow, and waited as Spike fell to his knees, and crawled towards Angelus. He fell to his belly when that was the only way to move closer to Angelus, and kissed his feet. Angelus kicked him in the teeth, sending him flying as far as the chain would allow, only to thud heavily on the floor. Spike shook his head, and got up on his elbow, glaring at Angelus.
“Now Spike, do you want another thirty?” and Spike immediately looked down, the muscles in his jaw jumping as he gritted his teeth. “Some more work needed on you, I’m sure, but you know your place. You’ve always known your place.” He walked out of the room, whistling to himself. “I’m sure you guys have a lot to catch up on…” he chuckled darkly, and left them on their own, among the stink of death and decomposition, filthy bodies, fear, and everything else that had made Angelus the Scourge of Europe.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“I’m sorry Buffy. I tried. I tried so hard, I’m so sorry Buffy.” Spike whispered.
“What happened? Why is Angelus back?”
“Wolfram and Hart, love. They took out his soul. We didn’t even know what was happening. They locked Wesley and Fred and Gunn in some holding dimension, but they left me out, because he asked for me. Apparently he missed having his little pet.” Spike lay down on his back with his head resting on his crossed palms, staring at the ceiling, telling his tale with as much detachment as he could muster.
“Angelus brought me here months ago, maybe even over a year ago, I don’t remember anymore. I thought he was Angel, he said there was a nest here, that we would have no problems getting them. There were piles of bodies, everywhere. There had been a massacre… he’d killed all of them, I know that now, but then, he told me it was the nest.” He cleared his throat, voice raw from screaming, and was silent for a heart beat.
“He brought her here later. Told me he made it look like she ran away… that she found a demon lover, and that you didn’t approve, so she bolted.”
Buffy frowned, her brain a muddled mess from whatever it had been that he’d used to sedate her. “I remember. She had a boyfriend, but wouldn’t let us meet him. She was nervous about what we’d think of her first real boyfriend. She seemed happy, so we let it be. We came home one day, all her stuff was gone, and she left a note, saying how we’d never approve, and she went to live with his kind, who would accept her. We’ve been looking for her ever since, but that was just a few weeks ago.”
“No, pet, that was a few months ago. She’s been here ever since. Angelus got Wolfram and Heart to give her a boyfriend. He got them to convince her she couldn’t tell anyone who her boyfriend was, he orchestrated the whole thing. He knew what he could make me do… to keep her safe. I tried Buffy, I tried to keep my promise to keep her safe, but I failed. I failed, and she’s here, and there’s not a damned thing I can do about it.”
They both fell silent while Buffy digested the words and Spike prodded at old scars. Buffy inhaled sharply, needing to know, demanding to know, “How could you count each strike Spike? How could you just… count like that.” The words felt like ash in her mouth as she remembered.
“If I don’t, he doesn’t stop. If I loose count, he starts it over at one, if I miss one, he starts it over at one… I have to count… or it just doesn’t stop. He’ll kill her Buffy, and you, and me, and not care. Well, he might get annoyed at having to kill you after it’s been done, but he gets over these things, rather quickly.”
“Dawn?” Buffy called, “it’s me, it’s Buffy. Dawn, talk to me.” The girl didn’t even stir at her name.
“She won’t answer you. He broke her Buffy. She’s not in there anymore. She’s not you, she’s not me, she doesn’t have our strength. She’s just human… and she broke. Don’t hold it against her, she couldn’t help it. No human could.”
“But it’s only been a couple of weeks! He couldn’t break her so soon, she’d have held out for us, I know she would have!”
“She tried pet. It lasted a week and a little more. He took his time breaking her, he liked to watch her bristle, and say you would come for her, that you’d all come for her, but that was months ago.” He was rather calm, if somewhat detached, relating events like it was a movie he’d watched that wasn’t very good.
He changed the subject. “I’m guessing he had you under some spell, like sleeping beauty, asleep with no need for food, or drink. You’d have been healthy in every way, just, asleep, waiting until just the right moment to bring you out…”
It seemed he couldn’t stray from the previous topic too far. His voice was weary and worn when he spoke. “I tried pet, but I don’t have much left in me. I can’t watch him torture her again, or you. I can’t. I’d rather be dust than see that, than hear that, than be forced to help him, to be held accountable for each … for every…” he swallowed thickly. “I can’t. I’d rather be his dog.”
“Spike, we can get out of here, I know we can, the rest of the Scooby gang have got to be looking for me at least, and I know they’re looking for Dawn.”
“Buffy, they aren’t looking for anyone. The apocalypse has started, they’re either dead, captured, or fighting, but they won’t have time, much less resources, to look for any of us. Either the world ends and we all die, or we get tossed into a hell dimension, or the good guys win. It would be a miracle if the Scooby’s survived.”
“They’ve done miracles before Spike. They’ll find us.” She sounded so confident and sure of herself. Things always worked out for the best in her world, she saw no reason why they should stop now.
“If you say so pet… but I won’t hold my breath for it… and I’m the one that doesn’t need to breathe.”
They fell silent when they heard footsteps echo on the stone floor, coming towards them. Angelus was there, leading the way with a confident and sure stride. Behind him was a non-descript minion, carrying a covered tray. Buffy looked curiously at it, Spike just ignored it, and Dawn just continued to stare at the wall, shivering silently. The minion knelt beside her, and uncovered the tray. Dawn slowly turned her head, resting her cheek on the stone wall, facing the minion, her lips parted, mouth open slightly. Carefully the minion fed her, cooked vegetables, steak, rice, and milk. Dawn silently ate, not moving from her position and the minion carefully continued, not daring to spill so much as a grain of rice.
Angelus leaned on the wall, and gently petted her head. “She’s been a good girl, so she gets rewarded, don’t you Dawnie?” He bored with her quickly, and walked over to Spike, who rolled onto his stomach, to place a kiss on each of his feet with his bruised and bloodied lips. Angelus chuckled, and squatted to pet his head. “See Buffy? One great big happy family.”
He walked back towards Dawn while the minion was cleaned her face with a wet napkin. Silently the minion picked up the tray and everything he had brought with him, stopping only to pick up Angelus’s folded clothes, and the torn shirt, before scampering away. Angelus kneeled beside Dawn, watching her lick her lips, before she silently faced the wall again. “Dawn, I think we need to show them just how obedient you are, just how well trained. What do you think?”
In the stillness, Buffy heard Dawn’s quiet, “As Master wishes.” Buffy watched, wide eyed when Angelus gripped the chains and a flash of brilliant light spilled from his grip when the magic lock undid itself, freeing Dawn. Other then lowering her hands to her side, she didn’t move. Buffy kept trying to will her to fight back, run, anything, but she just knelt there, facing the wall, obediently waiting for Angelus’s command.
Angelus stood, and hooked a finger through Dawn’s collar, lifting her to her feet. She bent over at the waist, her head in level with Angelus’s grasp so he didn’t need to strain himself in any way. He led her to the stretch of empty space between Spike and Buffy, pushing downwards on her collar. She knelt, and kept her head bowed, silent, facing neither Buffy nor Spike.
Buffy looked away from her nude sister, only to look back again, confused. Her back was one huge bruise, dripping blood where the belt had cut it, and re-opened old wounds, but her front was perfect. Dawn’s hair wasn’t the only clean and well maintained part of her body. She had on carefully applied make-up, her skin was pale, but healthy, clean. Not a single mark marred her front, not a single blemish, or scar.
Angelus loomed over Buffy, making her start in surprise. “You’ll want to watch Buffy.” He said, as he unhooked the link of chain from the spike over her head, but leaving the one at her feet still looped over the spike. “Sit up girl, c’mon, you can do it” he said while lifting her up to her knees by one arm. Buffy winced at his rough treatment, and the sudden movement after so long being held immobile. Suddenly she lunged at Angelus, and fell down flat on her face, her muscles hadn’t quite recovered from their month’s long slumber.
“Stupid little Slayer, it doesn’t work like that.” He smacked her on the back of her head. She shot him a venomous glare. “Now, either you sit up, and watch, obediently, or I make her scream again. Do you understand me?”
She sat up, silently, and crossed her arms, her back against the cool stone, her knees drawn up close to her chest. She clenched her jaw and stared straight ahead, which happened to be where Dawn was. Angelus chuckled, and walked towards his obedient little girl.
Buffy watched, helpless, as Angelus stood over her kneeling sister. Dawn kept her knees parted wide apart, her hands rested on her thighs, palms upwards. Her fingers curled gently towards her palm, in a relaxed pose, as she gazed silently into nothing, eyes downcast.
Angelus moved a box over to Dawn, and placed it before her on the ground. He opened the snaps, and laid the box open, revealing the array of medical looking equipment inside. Angelus snapped his fingers, and a minion brought him a chair, so he could sit directly in front of Dawn.
“Dawn, sterilize the skin on the top of your breasts.” Angelus said, and watched as she obeyed. She took out a squirt bottle full of betadine and carefully scrubbed the dark liquid into her skin with a sterile gauze pad. She put the used gauze into a plastic bag taken from the box, and replaced the bottle.
“Good girl. Now I want you to put the rods into the skin on the top of your breasts, under at least a quarter inch of flesh. You only need to use one in each breast.” Dawn carefully reached into the box, and pulled out two slender metal rods. Even from the distance Buffy was to her sister, she could see the tips were razor sharp, and thin colourful tendrils trailed from the blunt ends. Buffy frowned, confused, and watched in stunned shock as Dawn did just that. She grunted, and winced in pain and exertion as she slowly drove the thick nail like rods under her skin.
Dawn fell forward slightly when each rod came out the other side of her breast, breathing heavily, her jaw clenched in determination. When she was done, she straightened, her chest shuddering with held in sobs.
Angelus smiled softly, and softly said “hook them up.”
Buffy watched as Dawn took the strings hanging from the ends of the rods, and put the ends in the box, fiddling for a moment, as if to affix them inside. Once more she straightened, hands resting on her thighs, as she waited, silently, for her next command.
Angelus leaned forward and stroked Dawns hair tenderly, and settled back again. “Level one Dawn, increase as per my command.”
Dawn reached into the box once more, and seemed to fiddle. Her breath caught, and tremors raced along her body. Buffy stared dumbstruck and heard Angelus say, “Two”, and watched as Dawn started to shudder and convulse. That was when Buffy realized those hadn’t been strings at all, they’d been wires. Dawn was electrocuting herself, and the path of electricity was right across her heart. Dawn was knowingly putting her life in danger, and all because of that bastard’s twisted whim.
“Stop it! Angelus stop it, you’re going to kill her!” Buffy begged, starting to crawl forward, towards her sister and her sister’s tormentor.
Angelus looked at her and smiled, “three…”, and Dawn fell to the ground, involuntarily twitching, and convulsing, her screams caught in her throat as she gulped and gasped for air. “She knows that Buffy. She did it to herself, all of it, because I simply asked. She’s mine Buffy dear. And there is nothing you can do about it. Four.”
Dawn somehow managed to get her hand into the box despite her convulsions, and reached for the button. Buffy panicked, and screamed, “Angelus, STOP, please, stop, I’ll do anything you want, PLEASE Angelus, don’t kill her, please please please don’t kill her Angelus.” She started to cry, reaching for them, stretching her body towards them, already at the end of her tethered legs. Buffy stretched herself before Angelus, on her stomach, grovelling for her sister’s life.
Angelus lifted his hand, halting Dawn’s next step, and motioned for her to turn it off. Dawn’s body gradually stilled, as the electricity was slowly turned off, and after a few breaths to collect herself again, she knelt in the same position, her head lowered, staring blankly at the floor. All that could be heard was Buffy’s pleading, her voice reaching the ears of everyone present. It sounded like a prayer. Buffy slowly curled up on her side, rocking softly, begging quietly through her tears, promising anything and everything she could to keep her sister from harm.
“I know you will Slayer… and now you know too. Get back to where you were. Dawn, remove those things, you are allowed to use the healing ointment. You’ve been such a good girl Dawn. You’ve gotten to be so good at all your duties, I really have no reason to punish you, but it’s your sister and her lovers fault. They just can’t seem to behave.”
He looked up to see a tear streaked Buffy back where she was against the wall, and Spike, sitting and watching. “He’s learning though. Look at him watching. He knows what would have happened if he hadn’t watched, even though I hadn’t told him. He’s learning. I think that means he should get rewarded. Crawl to him Dawn. Offer yourself to him.”
Buffy watched her obey, as Spike looked wary about the proceedings. She crawled until she was close enough to whisper in his ear, and knelt backwards. Her thighs stayed spread, but she tilted her head to the left, baring her throat, holding her wrists outwards, her soft inner wrist upwards as she offered herself to Spike. He watched Angelus carefully, looking for any sign of displeasure, for any indication of what his next command might be.
Angelus leaned further back, and stretched his bare legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankle. He nodded, and gestured with his hand, and laughed when Spike stayed still, waiting for a clear verbal command or permission. “Feed boy, go ahead.”
Buffy let out an almost silent whimper, but it wasn’t silent enough to escape the notice of the vampires. Spike slid into game face, trying to ignore Buffy’s obvious distress and bit Dawn’s offered wrist. She called out his name, the instant he bit, but he didn’t hesitate. His fangs slid into her soft skin, and her hot blood flowed into his hungry mouth.
He got two swallows before Angelus said “Enough”. Spike instantly pulled his teeth from her skin, pulling his mouth away from her wound. He licked his bite clean, letting his spit heal and clean the wound. Buffy watched as Dawns eyes rolled back, and then closed. She moaned softly, and tilted her head backwards, lost in the bliss of feeding. Spike continued to kneel, panting heavily, detesting being forced to feed only from Dawn, at Angelus’s tight control on how he eats, and how much. Dawn held her wounded wrist to her chest, pressing it hard against her breast to staunch the flow of blood.
“Come back here Dawn, kneel beside me,” and Dawn obeyed. After she was settled, Angelus leaned forward and looked at each of them. “See kids, this is how it is. If you are bad, you are punished, in one way or another. If you are good, you get rewarded.” His hand absently stroked Dawn’s hair.
He smiled gently, looking at Buffy, and motioned a minion forward. “Take Dawn to my rooms, I think I’ll want the services of a bed warmer tonight.”
As the minion led the unresisting Dawn away, Buffy clearly said “You lay one hand on her you sick bastard, and I’ll make you regret it.”
Angelus laughed from his seat. “Are you offering to take her place? I have no body heat Buffy, I need someone to warm my sheets… and she’s oh so good at her duties.” Buffy looked at him with horror on her face, and he laughed. “I didn’t think so.”
As he heaved himself to his feet Buffy spoke again, her voice quieter, more desperate, “Don’t touch her, please Angelus.”
He laughed again, “What do you think I’ve BEEN doing for months? You can’t change what she is. Just like you can’t change what you are, or what I want. It has nothing to do with you. You’d think you’d understand by now, this is about ME, and I want to slide my cold cock into her hot cunt, arse, and mouth. I want to piss on her, and make her drink it. I want to make her scream, and beg, and plead, and pray. I want to make her bleed, so she’ll stain my sheets. I want to do so much to her Buffy, and I’m going to do it, now, and again whenever I want to, however many times I want to. You can’t stop it; you have no power over me.” And with that he chuckled, and walked out, happily whistling.
Buffy stared after him, shaking her head from side to side, appalled and staggered. She kept shaking her head as tears leaked hotly from her eyes, until she fell unconscious, the strain of the day taking its toll.
Next part here
All parts are here
Normal disclaimer, these are not my characters, I am making no profit off this, and I return the characters used to those that made them. I just borrowed them for my twisted fantasy.
Let me know what you think please.
Title: Shattered Shards
Pairings: Spike/Angelus, Angelus/Dawn, Angelus/Buffy, tons more to come
Appropriate Ratings:NC17
Warnings: Rape, non-con, slavery, abuse, torture, anything and everything bad and not nice. Do not read if you are squeamish. I'm told it's better in small doses Het, slash, and possibly other things down the line, just not yet.
Disclaimers: Not my characters, I make no money off them, I'm only playing.
Short Summary: Wolfram and Hart took out Angelus's soul, and Angelus has Dawn and Spike and Buffy prisoner. He's having fun breaking them, torturing them, and pretty much making their existance a living hell.
Word Count: 7512 (As per MS Word Count)
Cross Posted To: My IJ, a_darker_angel, Darker_Spike, btvsats_love
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Banner by: Tamakin84
So it begins...
She woke up to the steady sound of dripping. The sound seemed to echo as the drops hit the stone floor, splashing outwards, spraying the walls. She blinked carefully, her mouth as dry as parchment. Carefully she swallowed, feeling the sand paper dryness of her throat and mouth, which only triggers more convulsive swallows until her throat is properly lubricated. Carefully she lifted her head, confused as to why it seemed to be hard to balance on her neck. Moving to rub her temples to ease the throbbing, she found she couldn’t. Something cold and metal encircled them; the harsh clink of rattling chains seemed to echo loudly with each movement.
“Wh-wh-what?” she stammered, confused, her voice rusty from disuse, her mind unable to focus, feeling like someone had scooped out her brains as she slept and stuffed cotton balls in their place.
Cold laughter echoed through the space, and recognition of its owner shoved away the drug induced haze. The soot stained stone came suddenly into painfully sharp focus.
The smell hit her then. The stench of rancid blood and putrefied flesh dancing for dominion with the other, causing her stomach to roll and protest. Her eyes darted around wildly, identifying the sources of the stench. Bodies in various stages of decomposition piled against the walls in no obvious order or care. She watched drops of blood trickle down an outstretched lifeless arm, welling at the finger tips only to fall onto the filthy stone floor to splatter and stain.
“Buffy…” Her name sighed through the room, drawing goose bumps along her bare flesh… which was when she noticed she was nude, with only steel manacles upon wrists and ankles as adornment. Buffy stared incredulously at the manacles, at the chains they were attached to that disappeared into the wall. Her arms were stretched above her head, loosely so she could still struggle but taught enough that struggling wouldn’t accomplish anything. The same was done with her legs, ankles securely fastened. Each chain had quite a bit of length to them, but the length was shortened by placing a link of chain into steel railway spikes that had been driven deep into the floor. It made it easy to control her ability of movement, without having to attach new chains when a different length was needed.
She took stock of her situation. Flat on her back, chained spread eagle, without a scrap of clothing, and… he was calling her name. Again that chilling laugh seemed to engulf her with fear, dread and horror, nightmares she’d thought she’d forgotten slipping in front of all other thought.
“Angel?” She whimpers out, ashamed that her voice quavers and cracks instead of coming out strong and confident.
“Oohhhh so close… but so very very wrong…” the sing song voice calls out.
Buffy can feel tears building up in her eyes, unbidden and out of her control to deny. Drawing in a ragged breath, she instinctively holds it when he calls out again.
“Oh Buffy… the smell of your fear…” She can hear him draw in a happy delightful lungful of air, “has always aroused me. Your scent just fills me… until it feels like I’m just going to burst from anticipation alone,” he groans out, suddenly at her head, leaning against the wall wearing nothing but comfortable thin cotton slacks held to his body with a thick leather belt and a plain linen shirt. His erection was clearly visible to any who looked, and Buffy couldn’t help herself from looking, quickly dancing her eyes away from the thick and heavy looking bulge.
He chuckled darkly as he noted her gaze, which only made her blush darkly in response.
Swallowing back a whimper of fear, she spoke. “Angel, you don’t-”
A sharp slap sent her head spinning, and the words flew out of her head before she could finish saying them. She felt him sit on her hips, straddling her, holding her down. Buffy clenched her eyes tightly shut, and licked the small trickle of blood seeping from her split lip… and felt him squirm on top of her, felt the movement of cloth as his cock pulsed at the sight of her blood, the scent.
He let out a breath slowly, and she felt soft shudders and shivers moving down his body as he exhaled. Suddenly his eyes opened, and her lunged towards her, game face on, mouth wide open. She screamed, trying to throw him off her, wildly trying to keep him away from her neck, only to freeze when he lapped at her split lip instead. He licked the cut softly, tenderly, gently kissing it. Again he breathed in and let out another shudder, this time unable to hide the moan. “You’ve always tasted so good Buffy. I used to dream about the other tastes I’ve had, wanting nothing more then to taste it again… and now I can.” His face returned to its human mask. “You’re all mine Buffy.” He laughed brightly, clapped his hands and jumped up, doing a spin, and excitedly walked over her body.
“Angel, please, don’t do this.”
“I’m not Angel pet, and trust me; nothing is going to stop me.” And with that, he walked away, out of her line of vision. His footsteps echoed in the empty space, and then stopped. There was a soft rustling, and then he re-appeared, quickly jumping to tighten the chain, stretching her to utter immobility when he placed another link of the chain around the spike at above her head and below her feet. Her shoulders felt like they were going to pop out if he tightened the chain even another inch.
He cheerfully straddled her knees, and sat on them, something held behind his back. “Buffy, sweet dear Buffy… you’ll always be mine, always.” And with that, he plunged a white hot branding iron into the flesh just above her mons, on the left side, where her thigh met her lover tummy. She screamed. She couldn’t help but scream as he held the iron in place for a few seconds, pressing down hard to make sure the imprint was clear. He then threw the branding iron across the room, the sound of it clanking and hitting objects was loud in the room, as Buffy quietly sobbed, and Angelus bent down to kiss her owchie better. “Mine,” was all he said, as he got up, a possessive look on his face.
“Angelus, what do you want-”
A sharp slap sent her head reeling, and the words flew out of her mind before she could finish saying them.
"What I want, dear little Slayer, is for you to shut the fuck up." He smiled then, sweetly, almost tenderly, the smile that could make her knees melt, and her thighs to part. "Unless it's begging. I like begging, and whimpering, and moaning... pretty much any sound that bypasses your mind, and is just.... instinct." He drew his hand along her right side, stroking softly, his thumb gently flicking her nipple. She drew in a sharp breath, and bit her lip, and he smiled again. "Just like those ones."
She struggled to sit up, to move away from his cold intimate touch, but the chains didn't let her move beyond her supine position. He laughed softly, and did it again. "You squirm, and little Angelus squirms, see?" She couldn't help but look as his hands dug cruelly into her hair, his nails digging into her scalp, turning her head to look at his crotch. She looked, saw it jump in his slacks, and quickly closed her eyes, looking away as much as she was able, her chin trembling in defiance and fear.
He let go of her head, letting it drop with a thump onto the stone floor. Swiftly, before she had a chance to register his movement, he slapped her hard, open handed across the left side of her face. She felt a bruise start to swell up, her eyes watering, the left one starting to close up. Tasting blood in her mouth, she spat it out, tongue stroking her newly split again lip. The fact that one eye was slowly swelling shut didn’t stop her from shooting him a venomous glare.
"You are going to be so fun to break. I plan on shattering you, into millions of little pieces, my little princess. I'm going to make what I did to Drusilla look like ..." His voice drifted off when his eyes glinted yellow and locked on the puddle of crimson on the floor. He dipped his fingers in the blood she had spat out, and licked them clean, sighing softly as his tongue snaked out to make sure none was wasted.
"Slayer blood... is truly an aphrodisiac..." He seemed lost in the sensations drifting through him, eyes almost dreamy. Without warning his face morphed into the demon, and he lunged forward like a striking cobra, fangs piercing the skin of her breast just over her nipple. He sucked hungrily at the wound, occaisionally slipping his tongue out to play with the nipple, tormenting her with pain and pleasure. She screamed in surprise and pain, it was impossible not to. His attack was sudden, vicious, painful... and before the scream finished falling from her lips, he was holding her closer, one arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her body against his, rubbing his clothed erection against her bare hip while he suckled at the wound, and nibbled her nipple teasingly with dull teeth.
He pulled away gently, licking softly at the wound, and kissed lightly across her chest to her other breast, to lick and suckle at her other nipple. She stayed tense beneath him, expecting another vicious attack, another bite... but he stayed gentle, almost tender. She knew Angelus was an artist. Knew he would always leave her guessing, playing his torturous games on her. She knew what he was capable of, and it scared her, she accepted that. She knew most people would be terrified of being at Angelus's mercy, but she also knew he wouldn't be able to break her. She knew his games too well, and she was a damned stubborn bitch when she had to be.
What she hadn't counted on was Angelus knowing her as well as Angel did. He knew she wouldn't break easily, that was half the fun! But he also knew exactly how to break her. Attacking the Slayer was a start, torturing her was fun, but it wouldn't get the job done. She'd rather die than break in his hands. But he knew her weakness. Her weakness was love. Love for Angel, for her friends, even her mystical not-quite-sister... and for Spike. He knew about their affair, their emotions for each other, who wouldn't? Who couldn't smell the lust in the air as soon as they got close to each other? He was stunned her friends hadn't caught on sooner then they had, but hey, stupid mortal sheep. They didn’t even notice when Xander hid bruises and sprains that clearly didn’t come from demon hunting, or when Willow finally found the lesbian inside, or even when Dawn was stealing. They didn’t notice anything unless their noses were rubbed into. Of course, he’d take advantage of that little fact… too much fun to be had not to.
He knew, for her friends, she'd do anything. She'd died for them, over and over again. She'd abused her body in training, and missions, and just everyday patrolling. She knew her role was protector... and that was what he'd use. He got up from her body, licking his lips clean, watching the blood trickle down her right breast, pooling between them. He grimaced softly. "You lost weight Slayer. Too much weight, really. No more curves, no more places to hold you that don't feel like holding a chicken wing. Really, you should take better care of yourself. We'll see to it you are fed, properly. Add a little padding, re-create that arse you used to have, and watch those breasts grow so we can at LEAST get a mouth full out of one."
He got up, and puttered around for a bit, his back was to her, so she couldn't see what he was doing at the counter across the room from her, he did so love to keep her in suspense. When he turned to face her once more, his hands were behind his back, but she could hear a faint jingling, almost like bells, coming from his hands. He straddled her body sitting on her tummy, his back to her face, his hands before him, again hiding what he had, what he was going to do. He forced what felt like leather beneath her arse, and quickly, without warning, slid a pocket rocket into her cunt, and one into her arse. Swiftly, he did up the jingling buckles of the leather panties, holding the vibrators in place, so she couldn't push them out.
"There we go!" He slapped her leather clad cunt hard, making the vibrators jump inside her, making her gasp in surprise. "All better." He took a small remote from his pocket, and played with the dials, making the vibrators change patterns and intensity independently of each other. "You are going to be fun Slayer... it's going to be like nothing you've ever dreamed of... nothing you've ever imagined... what would be the fun in that, doing what you expect? I like to keep my pets jumping, squirming, and begging for me... but for you, dear Slayer; it's going to be hell. Just like the one you sent me too." She saw his jaw tighten, his gaze go steely, and watched as he got off her. He cruelly flipped her onto her side, making her twist her arms above her head, and her legs, so she could see more of that side of the room. She bit back a pained cry, feeling muscles tear under the strain, wondering if she’d dislocate any joints. Through the faint haze of pain she saw a curtained off partition, and watched as her former lover pranced over to it, suddenly in high spirits again.
"I have a surprise for you!” HE was practically bouncing in excitement, a beaming coldly false smile on his face. “TADAH!" He exclaimed and with a flamboyant twist and pull he opened the curtains, revealing a pale, huddled form. She took in the bruises, from black to yellow, mottling the skin. Blood oozed from burns here and there, it wasn't until she saw the burns in the shape of crosses that she understood it was a vampire, shuddering and shaking on the floor. It took her even longer to recognize the vampire as her lover and friend.
"SPIKE!" She screamed, struggling again in her chains, hearing them barely audibly strain. Her eyes were locked on Spike, as she struggled to break the chains, to get free, to save him. She only stopped when she realized, Anglus was just watching her, a small smirk on his face, his hands stroking his rock hard cock.
"When you struggle... and scream, it really is quite a sight. Makes me want to just eat you alive. Thankfully, I have more control then that. Wouldn't do to end the party so soon, now would it? William now... William is re-learning his role. I'm somewhat surprised at how long it took to break him, but I think the whole 'he has a soul' thing probably had something to do with it... but he's mine now Slayer. He has his moments of defiance, as any good vampire would have, but he still knows his place, don't you my little William?" He kicked the huddled body harshly, connecting with a very dark bruise, making Spike jump, and cry out like a horridly wounded animal, voice hoarse from abuse. Carefully, hands flat on the floor; he lifted himself to his knees with soft grunts of pain, and crawled towards Angelus. Buffy saw a collar attached to a chain, which was in turn attached to a ring embedded in the stone floor. She saw old bruises, and patches of skin rubbed off, where manacles had once been on his ankles and wrists. His roots had grown in, showing up under his blond dye job, telling her he'd been there for quite some time. She watched him crawl towards Angelus, deaf to her cries, on bleeding knees, to kneel before his Sire and Master.
Angelus took the remote out of his pocket, holding it in his hand, and she watched, horrified, as Spike dutifully undid Angelus's belt and pants, carefully taking them off, folding them, and placing them beside Angelus. She heard Anglus chuckle, and watched as he stroked Spike's hair, almost tenderly, before grabbing it in his fist, and slamming his cock into Spike's open and waiting mouth.
Buffy watched as Angelus skull fucked Spike, watched as his bruised and battered body was subjected to even more torture and degradation. Spike crossed his wrists behind his back, like a programmed robot, holding still except for what Angelus made him do. He was silent; eyes staring blankly ahead, all emotion and reaction seemed to have been drained from his face. Buffy looked away, horrified at what had become of her most recent lover, and her first. She forcibly untwisted her arms and legs despite the pain, and lay on her back, jaw clenched, staring at the ceiling. She didn’t expect the vibrators inside her to suddenly flare into life, pulsing, stroking, and vibrating away inside her. The pattern changed as soon as she understood what it was. She tilted her head, and glared at Angelus, seeing him fuck Spike’s mouth, one hand in his hair, the other holding the remote, and playing with it. She heard Angelus giggle, and saw he was smiling, laughing, enjoying her reactions, and the blow job. He suddenly threw back his head, and looked all serious, grunting softly, he held Spike’s head against his pelvis. Buffy watched as Spike’s throat convulsed, swallowing Angelus’s load of vampiric semen, a surprised moan trembled out of her as an orgasm erupted from her traitorous body.
She arched on the stone, and stilled, panting. Confusion on her face, loathing, fear, surprise, denial…. Angelus read it all, and slowly turned down the vibrators, revving them up suddenly, he held it there for a three count, before turning them off. He laughed as her eyes rolled back for that three count, back arching… before she fell again, panting, licking the sweat from her upper lip, turning her head slowly, she looked again at the pair. Her face slowly shifted from lust glazed, to horror, and confusion. He laughed again, smiling brightly, as her scent wafted over him; un-satisfied lust was a heavy scent, cloying and thick about him. He threw back his head, and arched his back, driving his again hardening cock deeper into Spike’s pliant mouth. He pulled back slightly, emptying Spike’s throat of his cock, allowing Spike to drag unneeded air into his lungs, which was when he blinked, and he slowly seemed more animated, more himself than a well programmed robot. Angelus’s cock popped out of his mouth, and he turned his head, slowly, pale blue eyes growing huge and filling with tears as he recognized the scent.
“NO!” He screamed, lunging towards Buffy, his instincts screaming to protect her, save her, only to be pulled up short by the chain. He coughed and retched at the strength of his self choking, reason climbing slowly back into his brain. He hurried, and kneeled in front of Angelus, hands outstretched in supplication, his tear filled blue eyes meeting Angelus’s brown ones. “Please, Angelus, don’t. Let her go, please, I’ll do anything, please Angelus…” His babbling was cut abruptly short when Angelus raised a single eyebrow.
Angelus leaned over, and patted Spike condescendingly on the head, “But you are already mine, and already do everything I want… because you have no choice. You’ve got nothing to offer boy. She’s always been mine William. I just waited to mark her until today.”
Slowly spike broke down into soft sobs. Utter defeat in every line of his body. This had been his one sanctuary, knowing Buffy, his love, was safe. He’d been able to endure, and accept, because he knew she’d be safe… and now that was taken from him. Angelus chuckled, and squatted in front of Spike. “She’s always been mine boy. You’ve just been too stupid to notice.” He smacked Spike once on top of his head as he got up, and walked over to Buffy, taking off his shirt, and throwing it to Spike to be properly folded.
He leaned over her prone body, and picked something up off a shelf she couldn’t see from her position. He sat down on her knees, and held out a clear amber jar full of some transparent fluid. He popped off the stopper and dug his fingers into it, pulling them out with a faintly amber jelly-like coating on them. “I didn’t think it would be so easy, but dayum baby, Spike must have been keeping you primed. This,” he said, slathering the goop on her brand. Instantly the pain faded and disappeared, “is a reward. You were a good girl, so you get the quick healing salve. It will still scar of course, but at least you won’t get an infection. I’d hate to cut you up to remove an infection. I’d much rather cut you up to make ME happy.”
With a vicious twist of her nipple that caused her to yelp, he climbed off her, putting the jar back on the shelf. He looked back at Spike, and frowned. Spike was holding Angelus’s shirt in his hands, bunched up in fists, as he rocked silently back and forth, staring into space.
“William, what’s the matter with you?” He barked sharply
Spike jumped, startled out of his thoughts, and looked up, sideways, to see Angelus stalking towards him. Spike backed up to the ring he was chained to, and stood up, the length only permitting him to stand in that one place. He tore the shirt in two, throwing the pieces aside. “Sod off, wanker!” and spat on the floor.
Angelus picked up his neatly coiled belt, and stood over him.
“That’s thirty whelp.” Spike visibly blanched, even with his natural graveside pallor.
“I’m the one that misbehaved. Not her. Don’t you touch her!” He tried to lunge again, and again was brought up short by the chain. He struggled uselessly, to attack Angelus, to rip off his metal collar from his abraded throat, to pull the chain from the anchor in the floor.
Buffy watched, stunned, at his protectiveness, his outright fear of what Angelus was capable of. She felt fear, but also confusion. Thirty strikes with a belt, she could handle. She’d handled worse, and came out of it alright. “Spike, I’ll be fine, calm down, please stop hurting yourself.” She stopped pleading when Angelus laughed, and laughed, and laughed.
“You really are that self absorbed, aren’t you? This isn’t about YOU Buffy. This is about me, my pleasure, my joy. You aren’t the only one I love to hear scream.” With a smirk, he moved behind Spike, to yet another partition Buffy hadn’t yet noticed. This one was made of Chinese silk, a folding screen that was slightly larger than the ones Buffy had seen in stores. He folded it up, and leaned it against a stack of decomposing bodies, revealing a slender girl with long brown hair kneeling, and facing a stone wall. Her hands were manacled above her head, her throat was collared, and a chain leading from that collar embedded itself into the wall, immobilizing her quite effectively. Buffy stared as Spike grew more frantic, more desperate, as Angelus got closer to the kneeling girl. Her back was covered in bruises, and cuts, and burns. She looked like she’d barely survived some hideous torture. Buffy felt her heart ache, thinking this must be Spikes new girlfriend, that Spike must love her so very very much to be this frantic to save her, protect her.
Angelus buried his hands in that long hair, absurdly clean, well brushed and maintained. “You knew what would happen Spike. You just forgot your lesson, so I’m teaching it to you again. You have no one to blame but yourself.” He carefully moved the silky long hair over her shoulder, to bare her back even more to his scrutiny. Without warning he struck her exposed back with the folded over belt. Mercilessly, he struck, without a pause or break, and stunningly, Spike counted the strikes through gritted teeth, though he looked away, unable to watch.
The first blow fell, and Buffy heard a voice sobbing that she recognized. As the strikes rained down, the girl started screaming, trying to struggle helplessly against her restrictive bondage.
“DAWN! You sick sadistic son of a bitch, I’m going to KILL YOU! LET HER GO!”
He ignored her, instead concentrating on his work. Dawn screamed and tried to struggle away, but there was no where to go. Spike snarled, and struggled to get to her. Buffy struggled to get to Dawn, Spike, to kill Angelus, anything, but couldn’t move.
When Angelus was finished, he tossed his belt onto the pile of clothing, and looked over at them. The room was suddenly silent, except for Dawn’s steady weeping.
“That was refreshing!” He said cheerily, wiping his hands clean of imaginary dust. He walked towards Spike, and waited a measured distance from the blond vampire. He lifted a single eyebrow, and waited as Spike fell to his knees, and crawled towards Angelus. He fell to his belly when that was the only way to move closer to Angelus, and kissed his feet. Angelus kicked him in the teeth, sending him flying as far as the chain would allow, only to thud heavily on the floor. Spike shook his head, and got up on his elbow, glaring at Angelus.
“Now Spike, do you want another thirty?” and Spike immediately looked down, the muscles in his jaw jumping as he gritted his teeth. “Some more work needed on you, I’m sure, but you know your place. You’ve always known your place.” He walked out of the room, whistling to himself. “I’m sure you guys have a lot to catch up on…” he chuckled darkly, and left them on their own, among the stink of death and decomposition, filthy bodies, fear, and everything else that had made Angelus the Scourge of Europe.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“I’m sorry Buffy. I tried. I tried so hard, I’m so sorry Buffy.” Spike whispered.
“What happened? Why is Angelus back?”
“Wolfram and Hart, love. They took out his soul. We didn’t even know what was happening. They locked Wesley and Fred and Gunn in some holding dimension, but they left me out, because he asked for me. Apparently he missed having his little pet.” Spike lay down on his back with his head resting on his crossed palms, staring at the ceiling, telling his tale with as much detachment as he could muster.
“Angelus brought me here months ago, maybe even over a year ago, I don’t remember anymore. I thought he was Angel, he said there was a nest here, that we would have no problems getting them. There were piles of bodies, everywhere. There had been a massacre… he’d killed all of them, I know that now, but then, he told me it was the nest.” He cleared his throat, voice raw from screaming, and was silent for a heart beat.
“He brought her here later. Told me he made it look like she ran away… that she found a demon lover, and that you didn’t approve, so she bolted.”
Buffy frowned, her brain a muddled mess from whatever it had been that he’d used to sedate her. “I remember. She had a boyfriend, but wouldn’t let us meet him. She was nervous about what we’d think of her first real boyfriend. She seemed happy, so we let it be. We came home one day, all her stuff was gone, and she left a note, saying how we’d never approve, and she went to live with his kind, who would accept her. We’ve been looking for her ever since, but that was just a few weeks ago.”
“No, pet, that was a few months ago. She’s been here ever since. Angelus got Wolfram and Heart to give her a boyfriend. He got them to convince her she couldn’t tell anyone who her boyfriend was, he orchestrated the whole thing. He knew what he could make me do… to keep her safe. I tried Buffy, I tried to keep my promise to keep her safe, but I failed. I failed, and she’s here, and there’s not a damned thing I can do about it.”
They both fell silent while Buffy digested the words and Spike prodded at old scars. Buffy inhaled sharply, needing to know, demanding to know, “How could you count each strike Spike? How could you just… count like that.” The words felt like ash in her mouth as she remembered.
“If I don’t, he doesn’t stop. If I loose count, he starts it over at one, if I miss one, he starts it over at one… I have to count… or it just doesn’t stop. He’ll kill her Buffy, and you, and me, and not care. Well, he might get annoyed at having to kill you after it’s been done, but he gets over these things, rather quickly.”
“Dawn?” Buffy called, “it’s me, it’s Buffy. Dawn, talk to me.” The girl didn’t even stir at her name.
“She won’t answer you. He broke her Buffy. She’s not in there anymore. She’s not you, she’s not me, she doesn’t have our strength. She’s just human… and she broke. Don’t hold it against her, she couldn’t help it. No human could.”
“But it’s only been a couple of weeks! He couldn’t break her so soon, she’d have held out for us, I know she would have!”
“She tried pet. It lasted a week and a little more. He took his time breaking her, he liked to watch her bristle, and say you would come for her, that you’d all come for her, but that was months ago.” He was rather calm, if somewhat detached, relating events like it was a movie he’d watched that wasn’t very good.
He changed the subject. “I’m guessing he had you under some spell, like sleeping beauty, asleep with no need for food, or drink. You’d have been healthy in every way, just, asleep, waiting until just the right moment to bring you out…”
It seemed he couldn’t stray from the previous topic too far. His voice was weary and worn when he spoke. “I tried pet, but I don’t have much left in me. I can’t watch him torture her again, or you. I can’t. I’d rather be dust than see that, than hear that, than be forced to help him, to be held accountable for each … for every…” he swallowed thickly. “I can’t. I’d rather be his dog.”
“Spike, we can get out of here, I know we can, the rest of the Scooby gang have got to be looking for me at least, and I know they’re looking for Dawn.”
“Buffy, they aren’t looking for anyone. The apocalypse has started, they’re either dead, captured, or fighting, but they won’t have time, much less resources, to look for any of us. Either the world ends and we all die, or we get tossed into a hell dimension, or the good guys win. It would be a miracle if the Scooby’s survived.”
“They’ve done miracles before Spike. They’ll find us.” She sounded so confident and sure of herself. Things always worked out for the best in her world, she saw no reason why they should stop now.
“If you say so pet… but I won’t hold my breath for it… and I’m the one that doesn’t need to breathe.”
They fell silent when they heard footsteps echo on the stone floor, coming towards them. Angelus was there, leading the way with a confident and sure stride. Behind him was a non-descript minion, carrying a covered tray. Buffy looked curiously at it, Spike just ignored it, and Dawn just continued to stare at the wall, shivering silently. The minion knelt beside her, and uncovered the tray. Dawn slowly turned her head, resting her cheek on the stone wall, facing the minion, her lips parted, mouth open slightly. Carefully the minion fed her, cooked vegetables, steak, rice, and milk. Dawn silently ate, not moving from her position and the minion carefully continued, not daring to spill so much as a grain of rice.
Angelus leaned on the wall, and gently petted her head. “She’s been a good girl, so she gets rewarded, don’t you Dawnie?” He bored with her quickly, and walked over to Spike, who rolled onto his stomach, to place a kiss on each of his feet with his bruised and bloodied lips. Angelus chuckled, and squatted to pet his head. “See Buffy? One great big happy family.”
He walked back towards Dawn while the minion was cleaned her face with a wet napkin. Silently the minion picked up the tray and everything he had brought with him, stopping only to pick up Angelus’s folded clothes, and the torn shirt, before scampering away. Angelus kneeled beside Dawn, watching her lick her lips, before she silently faced the wall again. “Dawn, I think we need to show them just how obedient you are, just how well trained. What do you think?”
In the stillness, Buffy heard Dawn’s quiet, “As Master wishes.” Buffy watched, wide eyed when Angelus gripped the chains and a flash of brilliant light spilled from his grip when the magic lock undid itself, freeing Dawn. Other then lowering her hands to her side, she didn’t move. Buffy kept trying to will her to fight back, run, anything, but she just knelt there, facing the wall, obediently waiting for Angelus’s command.
Angelus stood, and hooked a finger through Dawn’s collar, lifting her to her feet. She bent over at the waist, her head in level with Angelus’s grasp so he didn’t need to strain himself in any way. He led her to the stretch of empty space between Spike and Buffy, pushing downwards on her collar. She knelt, and kept her head bowed, silent, facing neither Buffy nor Spike.
Buffy looked away from her nude sister, only to look back again, confused. Her back was one huge bruise, dripping blood where the belt had cut it, and re-opened old wounds, but her front was perfect. Dawn’s hair wasn’t the only clean and well maintained part of her body. She had on carefully applied make-up, her skin was pale, but healthy, clean. Not a single mark marred her front, not a single blemish, or scar.
Angelus loomed over Buffy, making her start in surprise. “You’ll want to watch Buffy.” He said, as he unhooked the link of chain from the spike over her head, but leaving the one at her feet still looped over the spike. “Sit up girl, c’mon, you can do it” he said while lifting her up to her knees by one arm. Buffy winced at his rough treatment, and the sudden movement after so long being held immobile. Suddenly she lunged at Angelus, and fell down flat on her face, her muscles hadn’t quite recovered from their month’s long slumber.
“Stupid little Slayer, it doesn’t work like that.” He smacked her on the back of her head. She shot him a venomous glare. “Now, either you sit up, and watch, obediently, or I make her scream again. Do you understand me?”
She sat up, silently, and crossed her arms, her back against the cool stone, her knees drawn up close to her chest. She clenched her jaw and stared straight ahead, which happened to be where Dawn was. Angelus chuckled, and walked towards his obedient little girl.
Buffy watched, helpless, as Angelus stood over her kneeling sister. Dawn kept her knees parted wide apart, her hands rested on her thighs, palms upwards. Her fingers curled gently towards her palm, in a relaxed pose, as she gazed silently into nothing, eyes downcast.
Angelus moved a box over to Dawn, and placed it before her on the ground. He opened the snaps, and laid the box open, revealing the array of medical looking equipment inside. Angelus snapped his fingers, and a minion brought him a chair, so he could sit directly in front of Dawn.
“Dawn, sterilize the skin on the top of your breasts.” Angelus said, and watched as she obeyed. She took out a squirt bottle full of betadine and carefully scrubbed the dark liquid into her skin with a sterile gauze pad. She put the used gauze into a plastic bag taken from the box, and replaced the bottle.
“Good girl. Now I want you to put the rods into the skin on the top of your breasts, under at least a quarter inch of flesh. You only need to use one in each breast.” Dawn carefully reached into the box, and pulled out two slender metal rods. Even from the distance Buffy was to her sister, she could see the tips were razor sharp, and thin colourful tendrils trailed from the blunt ends. Buffy frowned, confused, and watched in stunned shock as Dawn did just that. She grunted, and winced in pain and exertion as she slowly drove the thick nail like rods under her skin.
Dawn fell forward slightly when each rod came out the other side of her breast, breathing heavily, her jaw clenched in determination. When she was done, she straightened, her chest shuddering with held in sobs.
Angelus smiled softly, and softly said “hook them up.”
Buffy watched as Dawn took the strings hanging from the ends of the rods, and put the ends in the box, fiddling for a moment, as if to affix them inside. Once more she straightened, hands resting on her thighs, as she waited, silently, for her next command.
Angelus leaned forward and stroked Dawns hair tenderly, and settled back again. “Level one Dawn, increase as per my command.”
Dawn reached into the box once more, and seemed to fiddle. Her breath caught, and tremors raced along her body. Buffy stared dumbstruck and heard Angelus say, “Two”, and watched as Dawn started to shudder and convulse. That was when Buffy realized those hadn’t been strings at all, they’d been wires. Dawn was electrocuting herself, and the path of electricity was right across her heart. Dawn was knowingly putting her life in danger, and all because of that bastard’s twisted whim.
“Stop it! Angelus stop it, you’re going to kill her!” Buffy begged, starting to crawl forward, towards her sister and her sister’s tormentor.
Angelus looked at her and smiled, “three…”, and Dawn fell to the ground, involuntarily twitching, and convulsing, her screams caught in her throat as she gulped and gasped for air. “She knows that Buffy. She did it to herself, all of it, because I simply asked. She’s mine Buffy dear. And there is nothing you can do about it. Four.”
Dawn somehow managed to get her hand into the box despite her convulsions, and reached for the button. Buffy panicked, and screamed, “Angelus, STOP, please, stop, I’ll do anything you want, PLEASE Angelus, don’t kill her, please please please don’t kill her Angelus.” She started to cry, reaching for them, stretching her body towards them, already at the end of her tethered legs. Buffy stretched herself before Angelus, on her stomach, grovelling for her sister’s life.
Angelus lifted his hand, halting Dawn’s next step, and motioned for her to turn it off. Dawn’s body gradually stilled, as the electricity was slowly turned off, and after a few breaths to collect herself again, she knelt in the same position, her head lowered, staring blankly at the floor. All that could be heard was Buffy’s pleading, her voice reaching the ears of everyone present. It sounded like a prayer. Buffy slowly curled up on her side, rocking softly, begging quietly through her tears, promising anything and everything she could to keep her sister from harm.
“I know you will Slayer… and now you know too. Get back to where you were. Dawn, remove those things, you are allowed to use the healing ointment. You’ve been such a good girl Dawn. You’ve gotten to be so good at all your duties, I really have no reason to punish you, but it’s your sister and her lovers fault. They just can’t seem to behave.”
He looked up to see a tear streaked Buffy back where she was against the wall, and Spike, sitting and watching. “He’s learning though. Look at him watching. He knows what would have happened if he hadn’t watched, even though I hadn’t told him. He’s learning. I think that means he should get rewarded. Crawl to him Dawn. Offer yourself to him.”
Buffy watched her obey, as Spike looked wary about the proceedings. She crawled until she was close enough to whisper in his ear, and knelt backwards. Her thighs stayed spread, but she tilted her head to the left, baring her throat, holding her wrists outwards, her soft inner wrist upwards as she offered herself to Spike. He watched Angelus carefully, looking for any sign of displeasure, for any indication of what his next command might be.
Angelus leaned further back, and stretched his bare legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankle. He nodded, and gestured with his hand, and laughed when Spike stayed still, waiting for a clear verbal command or permission. “Feed boy, go ahead.”
Buffy let out an almost silent whimper, but it wasn’t silent enough to escape the notice of the vampires. Spike slid into game face, trying to ignore Buffy’s obvious distress and bit Dawn’s offered wrist. She called out his name, the instant he bit, but he didn’t hesitate. His fangs slid into her soft skin, and her hot blood flowed into his hungry mouth.
He got two swallows before Angelus said “Enough”. Spike instantly pulled his teeth from her skin, pulling his mouth away from her wound. He licked his bite clean, letting his spit heal and clean the wound. Buffy watched as Dawns eyes rolled back, and then closed. She moaned softly, and tilted her head backwards, lost in the bliss of feeding. Spike continued to kneel, panting heavily, detesting being forced to feed only from Dawn, at Angelus’s tight control on how he eats, and how much. Dawn held her wounded wrist to her chest, pressing it hard against her breast to staunch the flow of blood.
“Come back here Dawn, kneel beside me,” and Dawn obeyed. After she was settled, Angelus leaned forward and looked at each of them. “See kids, this is how it is. If you are bad, you are punished, in one way or another. If you are good, you get rewarded.” His hand absently stroked Dawn’s hair.
He smiled gently, looking at Buffy, and motioned a minion forward. “Take Dawn to my rooms, I think I’ll want the services of a bed warmer tonight.”
As the minion led the unresisting Dawn away, Buffy clearly said “You lay one hand on her you sick bastard, and I’ll make you regret it.”
Angelus laughed from his seat. “Are you offering to take her place? I have no body heat Buffy, I need someone to warm my sheets… and she’s oh so good at her duties.” Buffy looked at him with horror on her face, and he laughed. “I didn’t think so.”
As he heaved himself to his feet Buffy spoke again, her voice quieter, more desperate, “Don’t touch her, please Angelus.”
He laughed again, “What do you think I’ve BEEN doing for months? You can’t change what she is. Just like you can’t change what you are, or what I want. It has nothing to do with you. You’d think you’d understand by now, this is about ME, and I want to slide my cold cock into her hot cunt, arse, and mouth. I want to piss on her, and make her drink it. I want to make her scream, and beg, and plead, and pray. I want to make her bleed, so she’ll stain my sheets. I want to do so much to her Buffy, and I’m going to do it, now, and again whenever I want to, however many times I want to. You can’t stop it; you have no power over me.” And with that he chuckled, and walked out, happily whistling.
Buffy stared after him, shaking her head from side to side, appalled and staggered. She kept shaking her head as tears leaked hotly from her eyes, until she fell unconscious, the strain of the day taking its toll.
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