Mastery
by ComedyofErrors
Chapter 3
Buffy sat on the floor where she had been dropped. She wanted to glare back at him, but had a feeling that she would just get slapped again, and that wasn't helping her escape. More specifically, the throbbing headache she now had was not going to help her escape. She should have fought him immediately, not let him get the advantage. 'Stupid Buffy, he's your sire, he will always have the advantage.'
That frightened her. She thought back to lying beside her grave. He had commanded her to bow and she couldn't refuse. Giles had told her that fledglings had no control when their sire decided to give a sire order. Sickening as it was, she would have to be obedient to Angelus, at least enough so that he didn't put her completely in thrall.
He was looking at her expectantly. Oh, right he asked you what you were. Tears started to come forward again, but she hadn't been given permission, and damn did it make her furious that the bastard would hit her for something as simple as crying. Yesterday, she would have said she was a slayer. Now, though, "I'm a vampire." Her voice cracked as she said it.
Angelus slapped her again, though not as hard. She looked at him in confusion, and another tear fell accidentally down her face. "No crying!" He yelled. She froze, except to wipe away the tear that had emerged on its own. Angelus leaned forward off the foot of the bed as though he meant to whisper something to her. He put a hand on her shoulder, and pulled her gently closer. His mouth over her ear he said in a low voice, "What are you?"
What the fuck was wrong with him? She'd answered! The demon part of her told her to grovel. To submit. It was her sire's right to hit her. The slayer part overpowered it. She thrashed to free herself from his grip, but he grabbed her by her hair again and wrenched her head back. She kicked out but missed, he kicked her leg below the knee and hit. Hard. She felt her lower leg break. She screamed in pain. He slapped her again.
"I did not tell you to scream. Now. What are you?" He put a hand on her injured shin.
So this is what the books mean when they say he's a sadist. Buffy had seen Silence of the Lambs. She had seen The Shining. She'd seen all manner of sacrifices out on patrol. But this was nothing she had ever been prepared for. This thing that looked like the Angel she knew and loved was tormenting her for his own enjoyment.
The pain made her mind hazy, and she felt her will to resist slip. She was starving, she was hurt, and the parts of her that were now vampire demanded that she appease her sire. She let the demon take over. And suddenly she knew the answer to the question. The answer that would keep her from angering her sire further. "I'm yours."
He smiled at her cruelly. And she felt her demon take reassurance from the smile. It was proud to have made its sire happy. It argued that the aches meant nothing, the sire must be considered. The slayer in her was sickened, and fought back to the surface. The human part, the Buffy part, just wanted it to end. 'You're trying to escape not make him happy. You've done enough of that.'
But at least, she argued with herself, he's not hitting me now.
Angelus enjoyed that first round immensely. He'd gotten her to give in to the demon to a small degree. Now, time for encouragement. He knew all about psychology. Positive and negative reinforcement were something he'd invented, not Pavlov and Freud. He was exercising his talents before those men were born, hence Penn, Spike, and Dru. Behold the genius of Angelus. "Much better Buffy. Now climb up on the sofa and let me look at your leg." He spoke with a tenderness that he knew she remembered form his soul bearing days.
Buffy was too confused to argue. Her demon side was singing. She pulled herself up off the floor and sat gingerly on the sofa. Her ass was bruised from being repeatedly dropped on the stone floor. She used her arms to cushion herself as she sat back fully on the warn pink fabric. She watched as Angelus reached down and lifted her leg gently by the foot.
Angelus sighed, as though pained. He was a damn fine actor if he said so himself. "Oh, Buffy, I'm afraid I'm going to have to set this. It'll hurt, brace yourself." He pulled hard. It would have been kinder if he hadn't warned her, so that her muscles were slack, but Buffy wouldn't know that. He heard the bone realign, and watched her face's reaction. She wanted to scream, or at least shed a few tears, he could tell, but she had learned her lesson. She wouldn't do it without asking. And she was still too proud to ask.
That fact alone would make the rest of this night highly interesting.
It was only about four hours until the sun rose. Buffy had risen around midnight, and had been unconscious for a good hour. Angelus was happy she had not risen immediately after dark, that way he and Dru got away to feed. They were both quite full, which meant they could enjoy the coming spectacle to its fullest. He examined the leg, content that he had realigned it successfully. The last thing he wanted was a lame fledge. Even if he was only keeping her a week.
That was the deadline he'd set for himself. Six days to break her and rest on the seventh. It would break his record on Emilia, that pretty little girl he'd turned before Dru. She had taken three, and had been catatonic by the end. He didn't want Buffy catatonic. He wanted her able to move and speak. Hell, how could she kill herself if she was out of it? This was the first night. Five more, and he had such a treat planned for the sixth night. He already had minions working on the task, gathering the appropriate victims.
Because the prey had to be in the right mood also. He detested it when his food wasn't reactive. He wanted at least one girl Buffy's age, and one a bit younger. A certified virgin.
He could worry about that later. Right now Buffy was the challenge. Her demon had just taught her the value of submission. That must anger the slayer in her. Now he wanted to disgust the human, and what better way to do that than to awaken her to demon sexuality.
"Here Buffy." He slit his wrist shallowly. "Why did you make me hurt you?"
She didn't register the words. Well, she heard and resented them, but she was otherwise occupied. Buffy's nose went into overload. Sire's blood, offered to her. Her hunger tripled, painfully intense, her stomach constricted. She didn't even care that it was Angelus. She was so hungry. She reached out for the arm extended toward her, half expecting to have the food taken away at the instant she reached for it. She was grateful when it remained in place. She latched her mouth on, careful not to use her fangs. She knew instinctively that that using them would revoke the offer.
It was the most heavenly thing she had ever tasted. She saw light behind her eyes at the intensity of the sensation. She pulled mouthfuls of blood out as fast as she could, but her inexperience and the deliberate shallowness of the cut prevented her from getting near enough to satisfy her hunger before the skin healed. Damn his reaction, she needed more to heal. She prepared to latch on with her teeth.
"Release."
Sire command. She dropped the arm and felt herself wither, a little more of her independence gone. If anything, she was hungrier. Her leg throbbed less though, and that was a plus. And again, not being smacked around. She felt a little odd though, almost...aroused. 'Oh how sick'. She was wet over what had just happened. Ewww. She could smell herself. And if she could that meant Angelus could too. She was relieved when he didn't comment. She would have...hell she couldn't die form embarrassment.
Angelus went over to Dru, who had been watching happily. She applauded him. "Oh, wonderful Daddy. Can Princess taste you too?"
He knew there was a reason he hadn't staked her for her babbling when he first turned her. She played her part so well. He had intended to show Buffy what was necessary if she wanted more, but he hadn't anticipated his sample playing along perfectly. "Certainly Dru. But you know what that means."
Dru nodded, smiled, and twirled, happy that Daddy liked Princess as well as Sister. Miss Edith said Sister would be fun to play with. But she wanted Daddy first. Miss Edith could be right later. She said Sister tasted sweet, like canaries. Her Daddy was a peach. She knew what to do now. She untied her corset strings, and pulled herself free of the dress.
Buffy could not believe what was happening in front of her. Angelus acted like she wasn't even in the room. He hadn't said another thing to her. He just went and sat on the bed, watching Dru. And Dru? She was fucking stripping in front of her. And she didn't wear underwear.
Dru stood naked and ran her hands over her in a way she knew Daddy liked. She started with arms crossed, hands on shoulders, resting like birdies and head thrown back. Then she moved down slowly to her breasts and rubbed them, then down along her ribs and onto her hips. At her hips she uncrossed her arms and stroked down across her belly, and brushed her curls. She then began to finger herself.
Buffy tried to stay calm. Throwing up was just not an option right now. She needed to get out of here, and with a broken, if healing, leg her only chance would be if they were distracted. Really distracted. And judging by the way Angelus was growling her opportunity would be here before much longer.
Angelus ignored his new childe. She was getting quite the show from Dru, as was he. No complaints, either, except that he was hard and didn't feel like bringing himself off. He ordered her to see to him, and she did just that. In an instant she was on the bed, unbuttoning his shirt and tracing her hands over his chest. She licked his nipples, and bit around them with her blunt teeth.
Buffy could smell their arousal, and was sickened when she felt herself go wet again. She had never watched porn, even if she had read a few dirty books. It was more than her near virgin eyes could ignore. She couldn't help herself, but that didn't mean she didn't feel dirty. And horny. She knew how to bring herself off. She'd done it a couple times before she lost her virginity. But she couldn't do it now. It would be wrong and gross and why had she even thought about it?
Involved as he was in Dru's efforts, Angelus could smell Buffy's scent growing stronger, and muskier. He called out to her, and looked over Dru's head to where she sat. "I do not give you permission to touch yourself, childe."
Buffy would have blushed if the blood could move to her cheeks. But without a pulse, it could not. Did being her sire mean he could read her mind? Or did this just mean that he could read her that well? He probably just figured it out by her smell.
Speaking of smells. They were both naked in front of her now. And doing it. The smell was nauseating. And getting worse by the minute. She wished the room was darker, so she wouldn't have to see them. But she could see them, all too well with her enhanced vampire senses. Every drop of sweat and every movement she caught. They didn't even go under the covers.
She eyed the door. Her moment was coming. 'Even worse pun. Stop it. It's not helping'. She saw Dru tense, and heard Angelus roar. She leaped up and began to run, heedless of the broken leg. She made it to the door and yanked it open. She darted into the hallway and was halfway down it when he caught her from behind.
Angelus cursed himself and Dru's seduction for him being so distracted. He hadn't considered that the girl would try to escape as injured as she was. That was the point of breaking her leg. Well, that just meant his glory would be that much more when he crushed her.
When he grabbed her from behind, she fought him. She kicked and screamed fit to raise hell. He lifted her off the ground entirely and bashed her head against the wall. He hear the skull fracture, and she went still for a moment. Not out completely, she moaned and tried to move, but was too weak. He dragged her back into the room, and tossed her on the sofa. He didn't bother to tell her not to cry, but she didn't do it anyway. The demon in her was in control, and the slayer must have been learning that that helped to chase the pain away.
__________
Chris had been scared to death when he saw the turned slayer come out of the new Master's room and run toward him down the hall. He had been even more frightened when Angelus came after her, naked and in game face. He watched the struggle and saw them retreat.
It took him a moment to realize that they hadn't noticed him. He hadn't been caught on his way to his true Master's room with an offering of blood. It would be simpler if the four of them could feed Master Spike from their own necks, but Angelus would have discovered it, smelled the wounds. That meant the effort to bring in pig's blood, ridiculous in its slowness at healing him.
But at least they had that option. He proceeded to the Master's room, knocked, and was allowed to enter.
He looked so drawn and thin, lying there. His shirt hung loose on him and the jeans rode low on his hips, what weight there had been to keep them in place now shed. Still, his mind was active, and he professed to be walking better. None of them were allowed to witness it, after all it was a very private thing to heal. Injury this severe was among the greatest of vampire taboos. Those who had lived beyond death dreaded reminders of the most permanent form.
That, he suspected was why many of the other minions had not stayed with the Master. They wanted an uninjured leader. Foolish rats. They could not see Master Spike was a superior person to Angelus. He was a vampire, not a torturer like Angelus. Chris felt undue torment to be against the nature of vampires. They killed to hunt, not for pleasure. He knew his philosophy was influenced by his former status as a doctor, but he didn't mind being different. There were at least four others like him, including the man on the bed.
Alexa, Jacob, and Ryan were already there. They kept the Master company when they had finished hunting to keep his mind from the pain in his limbs. He had never complained, and hid it well, but they knew he suffered. Chris was proud to have a story to share with the blood.
Spike would have loved to have told the little band he led just how much he appreciated their efforts on his behalf. It was unseemly, though, for a Master to share such confidences with his minions. It meant a loss of face, and authority. Even with as intelligent a group as he possessed, there were proper and improper ways to behave. He was glad they knew without being told.
He pushed himself upright in bed, and Alexa positioned his pillows behind him to keep him upright. He took the carton of blood offered him by Chris, who inserted a flexible straw in the top. Altogether Spike was pretty content. He'd walked around his room a few times at different intervals without feeling weak. The taste of slayer's blood had accelerated the work done by the human blood.
He sipped his blood, eying the deliverer. He smiled at the fidgeting minion. "What's on your mind Chris. You look like you've got a tasty tale to tell. Spill."
Chris grinned. "Well Master, as I was coming to your room..."
The room was silent after Chris finished his story. Spike sat in thought as he considered what Chris had said. "Good for the Slayer. She may survive him yet."
"Perhaps Master, she would make a better addition to our small family than to his." Alexa never hesitated to speak her mind. He reminded her of the slayer that way. He saw that the other three nodded. "If it please you Master."
"It's too soon to consider that. We are still here, in his house." Spike smiled, almost to himself. "But it would please me." Fight him Buffy. Don't let him win. You're better than that.
____________
Buffy wandered in and out of consciousness for a while. When she finally did wake, she wished sincerely that she hadn't.
The pain was unbearable. She couldn't go on this way. Her head was split. Her leg ached. She'd heard Angelus reset it after she put her weight on the bones to escape. Her mind hurt, from coming to grips with this new situation.
The seventeen year old in her had given up trying long ago. The slayer wanted rest before she made another attempt to escape. The demon was still hungry.
It was the winning part right now. It hurt less with the demon in command. And the demon had a plan to make the body heal. Buffy felt like she was having a conversation with herself. 'I'm not a whore.'
'He gave the blood to Dru when she asked. And it's nothing you haven't done with him before.'
'That was before. When he loved me.'
'Do you really think you'll escape if you don't heal, at least a little?'
Silence.
'It just needs to be for tonight.'
Silence again. She couldn't help it. The demon demanded it. And the rest couldn't resist any longer. "Sire."
Angelus looked at her lazily from the bed. He felt reasonably sated after the last few hours with Dru. "Yes, Childe?"
"I'm hungry Sire."
"I'm angry with you for trying to escape."
"Yes Sire. I'm sorry. May I please have something to eat?"
Angelus sighed dramatically. "You understand this requires a fair exchange?"
Buffy swallowed, willing herself not to whimper. "Yes, Sire."
He got out of bed and came over to her. "You will not fight me."
"No sire."
Buffy ended up crying anyway.
*****
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