Movement about a dozen feet in front of her drew her attention, and she gasped. Crouched naked and silent, his back to her, was Spike. His pale skin was streaked with bruises.

"Spike?" she whispered, trying to shake her mind free from the cobwebs.

Deep laughter came from the recesses of the room, sending shivers of terror through her, and her memories returned in a rush.

For five years she'd heard that laughter in her darkest nightmares.

More recently she had heard it while patrolling one of the small cemeteries, before pure evil in a lover's form stepped from behind a tree and knocked her unconscious with a taser.

Slipping from the darkness with which he blended so well, Angel strolled across the room.

Only he wasn't Angel anymore.

He was on her in an instant, one big hand catching her chin before she could flinch from him. His weight pressed against her, pinning her to the wall, and she felt every inch of him, hard and hungry for her.

Angelus chuckled at the expression of fear and hatred on her face, and pressed his mouth to hers in a hard, quick kiss. "We're going to have so much fun, Buffy. No stupid plans to end the world this time. I'm just going to fuck with you." He rotated his pelvis against her stomach and she paled. "And fuck you," he finished, smirking that smirk that always made her stomach twist.

"Let. Me. Go," she hissed, forcing herself to remain still since she knew squirming would only arouse him further.

"Nope." Setting her momentarily free, he stepped back and ran his eyes down her. "So skinny," he tsked, then grabbed one of her breasts, squeezing it cruelly. "But your tits are just the right size."

A low growl sounded from behind him, and Angelus turned his head to shoot his childe an evil grin. "Something the matter, boy?"

"Let her go," Spike replied, his voice low and deadly.

When Angelus stepped to the side, Buffy saw that Spike had turned, revealing the reason behind his crouched position. A very short chain attached to a metal collar pinned him to a ring in the stone floor.

"I am so disappointed in you, Spike. First you get yourself neutered, then you go and actually get your soul restored. I always knew you'd be a colossal failure, but I never expected this."

Spike ignored the taunting of his sire, all his attention focused on Buffy. Silently he tried to impart his strength to her, but she was looking more and more lost. To survive the First Evil's opening salvo only to fall to her first love was going to destroy her.

He remembered the last time he'd seen her chained in a similar position. The anger and strength in her as she had fought her captivity had only impressed him. Now all he saw was confusion, horror and growing panic in her expression and slumped shoulders.

Suddenly his view of her was blocked by his sire's leather- encased thighs, and he slowly looked up.

"Helping the Slayer, killing your own kind, being a complete wuss," Angelus ticked off his transgressions on one hand. "Oh, and sticking several pokers in my body. You have much to pay for, Spikey."

"Get on with it, you prat."

The boot lashing across his mouth didn't come as a surprise, and Spike tumbled over, blood spraying across the stone.

"Idiot. Do you think I'm going to get riled up and kill you? Either of you?" Laughing, Angelus kicked Spike again, this time in the ribs, then he turned back to Buffy. "He's a poor substitute for me, Buff. You could have done so much better."

She smartly kept her mouth shut, not entirely sure if he was referring to Spike as a fighter or lover. She didn't think he knew about the latter.

She prayed he didn't know.

As Angelus walked back over to her, she watched in horror as he pulled his shirt over his head, then reached for the buckle of his belt. Anger flared in her, and she snapped, "Pretty easy to force yourself on someone chained to a wall. Wouldn't it be more fun to unchain me and break me first?"

Angelus simply smirked deeper and pulled the belt free. "Probably, but then you also might win. The biggest mistake I made five years ago was by trying to destroy you emotionally first." Looping the belt he slipped it around her neck and tightened it as she struggled in the chains. "This time I break the body first. The mind will surely follow."

As Buffy gasped against the constriction around her throat, Angelus pulled a sharp knife from his boot and dropped to one knee. With efficient and practiced movements he slit her jeans from her, pulling the remnants away from her trembling legs. Inhaling deeply of her fear, he drew the blade down the front of her sweater, slicing easily through the thin cotton, then slipped the tip beneath the clasp of her bra and popped it open.

Buffy's breasts spilled free of their lace confines, and Angelus nuzzled his nose from her breastbone down to her navel before licking back up her sweet skin. Her whole body flinched from him, but there was no escape.

"Leave her alone," Spike howled, tugging helplessly on the chain as he watched his sire tormenting his love.

Ignoring Spike's continuing curses and cries, Angelus shoved aside the cups of her bra and carefully pressed the flat of the knife over one of her nipples. Buffy hissed at the touch of cold metal, and bit into her lower lip to keep from crying out.

There was no way to stop him, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of begging.

"It would be so easy to cut off these little fleshy bits," Angelus murmured, the fingers of his free hand reaching up to pinch her other nipple. "And, unlike on a vampire, yours wouldn't grow back." He watched the fear cross her face even though she fought against it, and grinned wider. "Too bad for me I like playing with them too much."

Dropping the knife, he gave a sharp tug on the end of the belt, laughing at her instinctive groan, then reached for the sides of her panties. "Plain, white cotton. Guess that means no one's been between these legs in a while, hm?" With a quick jerk, the panties were down her legs, stretched across her spread ankles.

Buffy flushed in humiliation and squeezed her eyes shut. Her mind was a whirl of images and fears, but she couldn't even find the hope to pray for rescue.

The only one possibly strong enough to help her get free was chained to the floor, his fingers tearing at the unbreakable metal ring.

And she herself was too familiar with her own chains. She'd overseen the reinforcing of the wall so that not even she could pull the chains free.

"So very pretty, Buffy. The souled idiot didn't take enough time looking at you before sticking our dick in you and freeing me." Angelus' hands caught her squirming hips and pulled her forward to meet his mouth.

Not expecting the lash of his tongue against her delicate flesh, Buffy squealed in shock. She felt him grin, his lips and cheeks tickling her, and began to pant in fear. When he began to suckle along her labia, Buffy was helpless to prevent a moan from escaping her. She hadn't expected this.

She had no defense against this.

Cupping her curvy bottom in his broad hands, Angelus ran his tongue up and down her cleft, dipping into her, twirling around her clit, until he tasted moisture sliding from her and felt her swell with heat. The scent of Buffy's arousal filled his nostrils, and he gave a grunt of triumph before fastening his lips around her hardened clit and sucking it until she thrashed in his hands.

Tears of frustration filling her eyes, Buffy fought against her arousal as hard as she fought to be free, but she was lost. He was too talented, and she was too primed. Perhaps if he'd done this to her when she'd still been innocent, she could have stopped the pleasure, but her body was too accustomed to it.

Too accustomed to a cool tongue and lips driving her crazy.

In the background Buffy could still hear Spike's fury and the rattling of chains, but a buzz of desire was overwhelming her senses, and all she could do was feel the tightening in the pit of her stomach, the ache in her breasts, the tongue licking and licking.

With an inarticulate cry, she climaxed, her body thrusting and wriggling as release swept through her, spilling her sweetness over Angelus' lips and chin.

Gasping helplessly, Buffy slumped in the chains, and let the bottled tears slip down her cheeks.

Smacking his lips, Angelus jumped easily to his feet and gave her a hungry, hateful kiss, forcing the taste of herself deep into her mouth. Before she could even think to bite his tongue, he pulled away from her and crossed back to Spike, who glared hatefully up at him.

"There's more than one way to break someone."

Kicking off his boots, Angelus slid free of his trousers, revealing his cock, hard and angled up against his stomach, the uncircumsised head purple with need.

Her body cooling from her unwanted orgasm, Buffy stared at him, not comprehending what was happening.

Why hadn't he fucked her?

Angelus flashed her an evil grin, then looked back at his childe. "Oh yes, more than one way." With a hard kick he drove Spike onto his stomach, then dropped to his knees on either side of the younger male's legs.

"Get off me," Spike howled, struggling and reaching back to shove at his sire's thighs.

"Ooh yeah, squirm like that again, boy." Angelus smacked his hand down on Spike's firm, white ass. "Only turns me on more."

"Stop it," Buffy cried in shock. "What are you doing?"

Truly surprised, Angelus swung his head around to stare at her. "You can't possibly be that naive."

Buffy reddened and her eyes widened.

Angelus chuckled. "Guess you can be. I forgot how slow you are sometimes." Rising to a crouch, he jerked Spike to his knees, and dug his thumbs cruelly into the cleft separating his cheeks. "Last time I did this all you could do was lay there and whine," he mused at his boy.

"I didn't whine, you son of a bitch," Spike growled, as he tried to kick a leg up to catch the bastard unawares.

Angelus caught the leg and shoved it back down before it could do any damage, then hissed, "Try that again and I'll break your spine." Wrapping one hand around the base of his cock, he used the other to pry open Spike's tight hole. "Now, this is going to hurt..."

"Prick!" Spike's howl of outrage turned into a gurgle of pain as that large head forced its way past the ring of muscles, digging deeper into his bowels with each hard thrust of Angelus' hips. A bolt of agony shot through him and he knew he'd torn, as his sire's pelvis slapped hard against his ass.

"Tight as a ten year old's virgin twat," the older male murmured as he began a punishing pace, sawing in and out of Spike's bleeding rectum.

Tears of pain stung the younger vampire's eyes, but he held in his cries, no longer even cursing his sire.

This was his right. He'd had that truth beaten and fucked into him two hundred years before.

Slowly, over the sound of Angel's grunts and growls of pleasure, Spike began to hear soft weeping, and something clenched tight in his chest as he realized it was Buffy.

Was she crying for him?

One of Angelus' hands found his neck and Spike grunted as his cheek cracked against the floor, angling his ass higher for his sire to plunge deeper. His innards began to grow numb, and even though the new angle sent the cock inside him rubbing against his prostrate, Spike felt no pleasure.

Whereas his sire had wanted the Slayer to find ecstasy at his touch, he was doing nothing to give his childe the same.

Just another game with the prick.

With a loud howl, Angelus yanked Spike's head up and buried his fangs in the nape of his neck. A new wave of pain lashed through the pale vampire, and he shuddered as his sire drank deeply.

As darkness slid across Spike's vision, Angelus howled again and spilled cold semen into his wounded body.

Buffy watched as Angelus pulled free of Spike and rose to his feet. As the younger male crumpled unconscious, blood leaking down his shoulder blade and between his legs, the older turned to give her an evil look. At the sight of Spike's blood covering his cock and soaking into his pubic hair, Buffy went white, and squeezed her eyes shut.

Angelus' laughter filled the air as he left the room.

With a start, Buffy came awake into filtered morning light. She couldn't believe she'd managed to fall asleep, but fear had finally exhausted her. Blinking open her eyes, she quickly realized she was no longer on the wall, but on her side on a soft mattress, a thick comforter pulled to her waist. There were manacles around her wrists which lay against her breasts, and she followed the chain up past the headboard to a ring in the wall.

As she swallowed convulsively, she carefully looked over her shoulder.

Sleeping still and silent, Angelus lay next to her, one arm curled above his head the other over his waist. Asleep he didn't look like a demon, but she knew better.

Shaking herself silently, Buffy drew in a deep breath and tested the chains. They held fast, and she was afraid to tug too hard.

She didn't want her captor awakening anytime soon.

As the memories of the night before began to knock on the doors of her mind, Buffy pushed them ruthlessly back. She was still alive, and, as she carefully sat up, she saw that Spike slept chained at the foot of the big bed, alive as well. Survival was all that mattered right now.

A small sound from one of the corners of the room caught her attention and Buffy peered into the gloom. As the room lightened and her eyes adjusted she made out two bodies sitting curled together. A young man, small, wiry, his body nude and covered in red and purple bruises, had his arms wrapped around a woman, his head burrowed into her breasts. The woman wore only the tattered remains of a full black slip. Her face was pressed down against the head she cradled, and as Buffy watched, one of her hands slid down the man's trembling back in a soothing caress.

The woman murmured something, then lifted her head. Tears glistened on her cheeks, but defiance shone in her eyes.

Buffy gasped in surprise. "Cordelia?"

To be continued...

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