"SOD OFF!" Spike flew at Angelus. His limbs were a blur as he rained down
   a hail of punches and kicks on his sire. Both vampires were airborne,
   moving in the same direction, Angelus laughing and Spike seething with
   humiliation and rage over the older vampire's verbal victory.

   The whore ran. Spike barely noticed her departure as he charged Angelus,
   tackling him around the waist. They flew straight back into the alley,
   disrupting a row of trashcans and social debris. Bums reeking of booze
   scattered like leaves.

   Angelus had pushed him so far that Spike had lost his focus. Most of his
   blows were blocked with ease and Angelus only took one real hit to the
   ribcage before he hurdled Spike back several yards. "Know what, Spike?"
   Angelus sneered. "You're so insecure in your own masculinity that you have
   to be vocally homophobic!"

   "Shut your gob!" Spike shouted, throwing himself at his sire again. It was
   bad form. Spike knew he was making a disastrous tactical error but he
   couldn't restrain himself. He punched, kicked, spun, hit... But nothing
   got through. He was being played like a pawn.

   "You can't bring yourself to admit that you're still lusting after your old
   sire..." Angelus' husky voice continued. Spike felt the dark timbre
   reaching straight into his gut like a claw. He lost some of what Angelus
   was saying, focusing on quality over content.

   Two words cause his attention. "...Abandoned you..."

   Anger made his vision swim. It pissed Spike off royally that the arrogant
   prick *dared* assume anything like that. Angelus' insufferable arrogance
   set the blonde's teeth on edge. Spike HATED the great sod for stealing
   Drusilla. There was no sire lustage involved!

   Spike roared his rage and swung straight at his sire's face. Angelus
   sidestepped and grabbed Spike's arm, using the force of his own blow to
   propel him into a wall. Angelus pinned his childe there, one arm behind his
   back. Spike struggled fiercely to escape but the other man had the physical
   advantage in size and strength.

   "I hate you, you effin' poof," Spike hissed. He wasn't homophobic or gay!
   He mouthed off just to give the old trotter a hard time! It was easier to
   insult Angel than to speak civilly to him and risk...

   Risk what?

   "I hate you," Spike repeated adamantly.

   "Yeah, yeah, yeah," Angelus chanted, "Heard it all before." Grunting,
   Angelus pinned Spike against the cement wall, pressing his lap right up
   against the blonde's ass. The bulge in his sire's pants was almost obscene
   in its proportions and a strangled gurgle escaped Spike.

   Oh Fuck. Not this. Not after so long. Not again. Crystalline blue eyes
   closed and Spike's mind filled with sanguine tiers of pure lust as he sank
   deeper through layer after layer, losing himself. It was wrong and he knew
   it and it had to stop.

   But there they were humping like harp seals in a filthy, stinking alley.
   Angelus had that sculpted wall of muscle he called a chest right against his
   back and their thighs were form fitting. Clothes were the only barrier
   between their bodies, and keeping Angelus from thrusting his big cock up
   Spike's ass.

   The protrusion was right up against Spike's rear, pressing lengthwise
   between his ass cheeks. The blonde's own cock had long since swelled to an
   aching, uncomfortable bugle in his jeans. Spike longed to whip out his
   instrument and blow it hard, <Parp parp parp!>, but trapped as he was, the
   only protest he could make was an angry growl.

   Contrary to his expectations, Angelus responded with tenderness. "Remember
   this, Spike?" his sire murmured, nuzzling the crook of Spike's face with his
   mouth. Spike averted his face, inadvertently exposing his throat.
   Revulsion vied with lust as he felt his sire's lips and tongue on the shell
   of his ear and along the smooth flesh of his throat.

   Oh fuck, that tongue. It was cool and raspy...erotic. Spike wanted to
   feel that tongue in his mouth and swirling about the head of his cock. He
   wanted, and needed, and shuddered. Repulsed. Revolted. Repelled. And Oh
   Fuck. Suckling and kissing...more than just licking... Spike hated
   himself, hated Angelus, and hated being so helpless that he couldn't resist
   the seduction taking place.

   He was weak.

   Must_get_free... Spike bucked once, pouring all of his strength into a
   single attempt at escape. He propelled Angelus into the air but the bigger
   man managed to keep his hold on Spike's waist. Instead of breaking away,
   all Spike managed to do was give Angelus a right nice taste of the old heave
   ho.

   <Bounce bump grind...>

   (Crotch + Cock) ---> Ass == Frustrated Vampire

   "GRRRRR ARGH!" A snarl of annoyance escaped Spike as Angelus broke into a
   heavy purr, rubbing harder against his childe's ass. A high-pitched whine
   of frustration and annoyance escaped the blonde as his sire's hands took
   ample liberties with his body.

   Fuck Fuck Fuck! He had turned the hairy assed bastard on more! And the
   Little Big Bad didn't fit in Spike's pants anymore! Another mistake or
   miscalculation and he'd wind up on his knees, face in the pavement, ass in
   the air, and Angel's cock buried up his arse!

   The wrestling vampires swayed to and fro, about to go over at any moment
   but their entangled limbs managed to find a precarious balance. Still
   fighting, Spike twisted to face Angelus. He opened his mouth intending to
   bite only to have his sire's mouth smother his own. "Mmmph!" Spike
   protested as the Angelus' huge, beefy hands cupped his ass cheeks.

   "Don't fight me, Spike," Angelus whispered. He nipped Spike's upper lip
   and then let the bit of flesh go. Spike felt his world slipping away as
   Angelus alternated nipping between his upper and lower lips. The bites were
   painful... Painfully arousing.

   Slowly, it was creeping into his bleached blonde head that Angelus wasn't
   hurting him. His sire had mocked him and roughed him up... All of tender
   first steps of seduction and none of the brutal abuse Spike had come to
   associate with the Later Day Post-Soul Bastard.

   Hope surged in his heart and Spike tightened his hold on the lapels of
   Angelus' jacket. He had his sire back! The sire of old: affectionate,
   mocking, and powerfully seductive. But sane. And so fucking beautiful that
   Spike wanted to sink to his knees before his Dark God.

   Eagerly, he opened his lips, allowing Angelus to plunder his mouth. Their
   tongues met and mated, reacquainting themselves like lost lovers. In a few
   minutes, Spike knew that he'd be bent over a car hood or some other
   convenient surface, opening more than his lips to his sire.

   A distant part of his sanity yelled, "Stop! You stupid pillock!" But Spike
   wasn't listening.

   Angelus teased, establishing a tempo. He lapped, flirted, and retreated
   again, playing until Spike was weak and trembling. The blonde growled low
   in his throat, issuing a warning and Angelus only laughed. "Or do fight,"
   the older vampire purred. "I don't care. Either way is good."

   Angelus tightened his grip on Spike's ass, digging his fingertips painfully
   into the black jeans. He had one cheek in either palm and seemed content to
   knead like a lazy cat. Spike opened blue eyes to glare fiercely at his
   tormentor. Was this a new game? Why wasn't Angelus moving things along to
   their natural conclusion?

   Staring straight into those chocolate brown eyes, Spike could find no hint
   of humanity. No soul. None at all. "You've lost your fuckin' marbles
   again," Spike said. Trying to take back even a shred of control, the
   blonde glared and diverted the subject. "All right. Who the hell did you
   fuck this time?"

   Angelus chuckled. His grin was vicious and wicked. "You," he hissed. "I
   fucked you in my mind and the fantasy was better than Bunny was in the
   flesh."

   Flustered, Spike started, and then flushed. The mocking words cut more
   than they should have and this time Spike could detect the rampant insanity.
   "I hate you," he sputtered. It came off as petulant and whiney. Spike
   was a child mouthing off to his parent and both vampires knew it. It was
   obvious in the thoughtful regard Angelus gave him while deciding upon an
   appropriate punishment.

   Spike waited on needles, praying that it involved something having to do
   with him on his knees...

   Angelus drew it out. The wait, the anticipation... Pure torture. "You
   know, Spike," he finally drawled in a provocative whisper. It was pure
   honey and Spike found himself trapped as surely as any fly. His cock
   twitched with spastic expectation.

   "What?" the blonde managed. He swallowed, mouth dry, hands clenching in
   anticipation. His gaze was glued to his sire's mouth as if he'd be able to
   read the words before he heard them.

   "I can tolerate a lot of things from my children," Angelus continued. "But
   betrayal isn't one of them. And I owe you big time for that crowbar."

   Spike heard the words through cotton. He felt his eyes widen and saw his
   sire take the swing but he didn't manage do escape the haze fast enough.
   Bugger! Stupid motherfucker--!!

   <CRACK>

   Spike's face snapped to the side. Another followed, and then another,
   until he lost count. He wasn't given enough time between hard,
   head-cracking blows to recover his wits. At some point, Angelus relented
   just enough to send Spike crashing to the floor.

   Spike refused to go out without a fight. Choking on blood, the blonde
   immediately staggered to his feet. For whatever reason, Angelus allowed him
   the moment of recovery. Maybe he wanted to play with his prey...

   "You bleeding pillock," Spike hissed, recovering with a roundhouse kick
   that hit Angelus' knee. It buckled, sending the larger vampire down. "I
   came here to tell you to keep your bloody paws off of my woman."

   "And as for your 'lily white'," Spike roared. "You've let yourself go,
   lard arse." All of the blonde's mental facilities and common sense had
   returned and not a moment too late. Angelus dropped to the ground and Spike
   fisted his face, following through with through with a round kick to the
   side of his head.

   Angelus shot up with a groin shot that Spike only partially blocked.
   "Rrrfff..." With a drawn hiss of pain, the blonde kneeled over, clutching
   his jewels. Oh Fuck. Oh Fuck that hurt!

   Grabbing hold, Angelus slammed his knee repeatedly into Spike's gut. Ribs
   snapped and he felt one puncture a lung. The blonde's brief rally was over
   and he never even saw the double fisted blow coming before it hit him in the
   back.

   With a sickening crunch, Spike felt and heard his spine crack, and he knew
   he had lost. At least two vertebrae broke under the blow and the blonde
   crumpled like a rag doll. Tears and fear shone in his eyes and he squeezed
   them shut. Oh God, please, not this. Not the bleeding chair again...

   Angelus grabbed hold of Spike's shirt and hauled his childe off the ground.
   The dark haired vampire assailed him with a few more lazy clobbers before
   he tossed Spike casually onto the ground. Trash. He had been discarded.

   Spike landed on his back, causing the broken bones to shift around his
   tender spinal cord. Pure pain shot through his back as he tried to roll
   away. Tears welled in his eyes. Unable to stand, all he could do was stare
   up at Angelus with blue eyes full of defiance. "Sod off," he managed,
   coughing up blood.

   Those final words of rebellion sparked fury in Angelus' eyes. The older
   vampire wanted a complete and total victory. He wanted Spike broken and
   bleeding, in spirit and body. Spike's ever-defiant spirit refused to
   submit. He never had given in and he never would, even in death. He had
   been bred to rebellion.

   With a sort of mixed misery and resignation, Spike watched while Angelus
   broke a wooden crate into pieces and selected a stake. The whole train of
   bizarre events hurt and confused the blonde but a part of him was positive
   that this was entirely for show. Angelus wouldn't stake him... Would he?
   Not like this...
   Spike felt detached. It was a sad show on the telly, and he and Angelus
   were only actors. With a mixture of hurt, disbelief, and betrayal clouding
   his eyes, Spike stared up as Angelus approached, holding the jagged piece of
   wood. His sire knelt and straddled his chest, moving with deliberation and
   glee.

   Angelus loomed over Spike, blocking out his view of the world and filling
   his field of vision. Angel's face would be the last thing Spike ever saw
   and the blonde understood with a fresh burst of pain that this too was
   deliberate. He was being made to watch his own death.

   A whimper escaped Spike as the weapon point touched the taut skin of his
   pale chest just over his heart. His eyes continued to scream defiance but
   his heart shouted denial. It was real! Angelus intended to commit the one
   act betrayal that even the souled poufter had never attempted.

   It was the ultimate betrayal.

   next