Déja Vú

By Guanín

I surreptitiously enter the room that Spike shares with Drusilla. Well, at least he used to share it with her before I came along and took what was rightfully mine. Not like they did anything in it anyway, not since the Slayer turned him into a cripple. Now he just wanders around on his wheelchair trying to look important, pretending that he still is a master vampire. I've got news for you, Spikey boy, around here, I am the master vampire, not a broken weakling who can't even go out to get himself a decent meal. Drusilla saw that the minute I came back. See, my Dru needs someone who knows what she wants, what she needs, what she craves, and that person has always been me. After all, I made her, I molded her, I created her love for pain and her sick, twisted desires. Spike doesn't know what she needs, he never has. He was just a reasonable replacement for when I was too busy to attend to her.

Moving further into the room, I see that Spike is lying on the left side of the bed, a sheet shrouding his naked body up to his waist. The empty right side must be reserved for Drusilla, not that she ever sleeps there anymore. She has shared my bed since the first night. She patronizes Spike out of pity for her 'dear boy', but when all is spoken, she invariably returns to me because I have what she's looking for and he doesn't.

I sit down carefully on that vacant space so I don't disturb him and observe his slumbering figure. His head is facing towards me, his right arm rests on his waist, his left lies between his body and me, reaching towards me, his fingers curled. But he is not peaceful, his features look troubled. They show annoyance, frustration, longing, and could that be a twinge of sadness? He always had the most expressive face, one of the reasons why I love to taunt him so much. It's so entertaining to watch how his emotions play across his face the instant he feels them, no matter how hard he tries to hide them.

As I continue to look down on him, a memory rises from the back of my mind, a memory of the long-gone days before this damn curse was inflicted upon me.

Darla and Drusilla were out for the night as soon as the sun set, probably enjoying themselves on one of their "shopping trips". They weren't gone even a half hour when I crept into William's room and silently locked the door behind me. I saw him lying naked on deep crimson sheets, the silk of the fabric complementing his sleek, tender skin. He was draped across the mattress on his back, his head lying to the side, exposing his supple neck. My eyes lingered there, washing over the smooth curve of his throat, fixing on the purple vein sheathed in white, creamy skin, but still visible, tempting me to take the sweet nectar flowing through it. His soft brown hair framed his handsome face and a long curly strand fell across his collarbone. My eyes grazed over the rest of his exquisite body. The moonlight and the shadows hugged the curves of his form, accentuating the shape of his bones and the contours of his lean, firm muscles tightly covered with smooth, pale skin. It seemed a sin if anyone were to mar such perfect beauty. At the thought, a grin slowly broke across my face.

A week before, his rash actions almost got us killed by a mob, again. That same night he declared to me that his new name was Spike. Spike. That boy has no class. He incites mayhem, creating trouble for all of us, and then expects me to clean up the mess. He has no appreciation for an inventive kill, one done with artistry, cunning. Also, he has no respect for his elders. That's one of the reasons why I was there that night. I had to teach that boy some manners.

Quietly, I removed my clothes and set them on a chair beside the nightstand. I climbed onto the bed, hoisted his legs over my shoulders, trapped his wrists at the sides of his head with my hands, and positioned my already hard cock at his entrance. My eyes attentively trained on his face, I pushed in with one mighty thrust. His eyes flew open and his mouth let out a hoarse scream. His formerly calm face contorted into a grimace at the agony of my entering him dry. Before he could fully understand what was happening, I pulled back and thrust back in harder than before. He screamed louder and, after shutting his eyes for a moment, he lifted his pain-filled gaze to mine. The pain rapidly gave way to anger when he saw my face.

"Angelus," he growled, shifting to his demon face.

He began to struggle beneath me, using all his strength to try to throw me off him and free himself. He pushed his thighs against my torso and frantically tugged at his arms. He panted heavily, gasping and whimpering in pain. My only response was to clamp down more severely, my nails digging into his skin, drawing small furrows of blood. During all this I maintained a hard and fast pace as I rode his luscious body. His ass was so deliciously tight, I had to fight myself so I didn't come to soon. His movements and the tensing of his muscles only made him tighter. The smell of his blood hit my nostrils as the tender skin of his anus tore.

"Get off me, you fucking pillock," he demanded, like I would pay any attention to his demands, "You have no right to do this to me."

"Oh, on the contrary, William," I emphasized his name, "I have every right. I can do whatever I want with you."

"I don't belong to you, you wanker."

"But you do. Drusilla made you, and she's mine therefore everything that's her's is mine. You, my boy, Belong.. To. Me."

I punctuated each word with a vicious thrust. The outrage and indignation rose off him in waves. Ramming into him ruthlessly, I felt the familiar tingling in my balls and I knew I wouldn't last much longer. I raised his arms above his head and encased both his wrists in my right hand. I grabbed his hair with my left, yanked his head to the side, and graciously accepting the earlier unspoken offer, I sank my fangs into his enticing throat. The divine taste of the rich, sweet blood that flooding my mouth accompanied by the wonderful feeling surrounding my cock brought on one of the best orgasms that I'd felt in a long time. I roared into his neck as my seed blended with his blood in his passage. After I drank my fill, I pulled out, releasing his legs. Weakened by his futile attempts to stop me and the loss of blood, he remained still on the bed in the position that I left him, arms stretched above his head, eyes closed, neck twisted to the side, my marking bite clearly visible, thighs spread apart, a slow trickle of blood and cum emerging from between them. I wiped myself off with the sweat-soaked sheets, dressed and left the room without a glance to spare in his direction.

His hair is blonde now, I don't know what possessed him to bleach those fine locks. I delicately run my fingers through it, noticing that it has retained its softness. The tips of my fingers trail down his forehead over the hollow marked by his cheekbones. I cast a glance at the sheet covering his legs and wonder, 'Just how much feeling does he have down there? Buffy dropped that organ on him months ago, surely he isn't too weak to be healing by now.' I lift the sheet off him, revealing the rest of his enticing anatomy. I place my hand on his calf and gently knead his muscle. I work my way up his leg, gradually adding pressure. When I reach his inner thigh, a breathy moan escapes his mouth.

"Dru."

My eyes shoot up to his face and see the unmistakable look of pleasure that lies there. I stroke higher and brush against his penis. It twitches at the touch. He moans again, his upper body undulating slightly, one hand softly squeezing the sheet.

"Oh, Dru."

I almost laugh out loud at the comic tragedy of it. He thinks Drusilla is the one who's touching him. Well, this should be good, I'll take what I want from him and further humiliate him by letting him surrender to me willingly. Not to mention how much fun I'll have reminding him of this occasion every chance I get. I couldn't have thought of anything better myself.

I look around me for something to tie his hands with. I don't want him to reach out towards me and realize that I'm not Drusilla before I'm finished playing with him. I find a pair of manacles under the bed, which I fasten on his wrists and latch onto the bedpost. I tear a piece of the sheet and bind it over his eyes. Once I'm done preparing, I continue stroking the tender flesh surrounding his cock, teasing him until he whimpers in protest as I callously ignore that part of him that he most wants me to touch. I hover over his body while leaning on my elbow and kiss his cool chest, my tongue lapping at his soft skin, licking him all over, tasting him. I latch onto one of his nipples and roll the bud with my tongue, giving it a quick bite that makes him gasp. My hand encloses his now rock hard cock, slowly moving from base to tip. He arches his back as I increase the pressure and pump him faster, my mouth still nipping at his torso. His moans and groans of ecstasy fill my ears. He grasps the chains sustaining him and pants as if his life depends on air.

I can feel that he's close to coming. I rise, spread his legs with my unoccupied hand, kneel between them, and unzip my pants, leaving my erection free. The exact moment he orgasms, in a rapid series of movements, I release his dick, grab his hips, and pull him up, embedding myself in his seemingly virginal tightness. He screams in both pain and pleasure, the torment of my entry overriding his orgasm. I thrust mercilessly into him, my hands holding him in the air, fingers spreading his buttocks apart. Spike fights against the manacles and rubs his face against the pillow, trying to free his eyes. He succeeds with the blindfold, and I'm glad, because the look on his face when he sees me is priceless. Disbelief and anger suit him so well. I smile impishly at him.

"Surprised to see me? You shouldn't be. You should have known I would pay you a visit sooner or later. I was worried that you were lonely, could use a little company."

"I don't need your company, Angelus," he growls, face showing anger, pain, and an emotion that I cannot identify. "You already took Dru. Why won't you leave me alone?"

"But I don't want to leave you alone, Spike. I have so much fun taunting you and laughing at you. And your hole is so tight, I've really missed being inside you. You know, this might not be my only visit. I think I'll come back and take you again... and again... and again."

I finish the sentence growling and continue moving his body over my cock, plundering his depths. I come with one final mighty thrust, my teeth savagely biting into his waist. I savour his fine blood, it's every bit as good as I remember. After some greedy gulps, I raise my head and slip out of his passage, allowing him to fall back on the mattress. Getting off the bed, I buckle my pants. I unlock his manacles, but he makes no move against me, perhaps he knows that it would be useless. His shiny eyes look away from me, but I can see a thin veil of moisture covering them. I lean in, putting my mouth merely a centimetre from his ear.

"Goodnight, Spike," I whispered, "I would love to stay longer but I have other people that require my attention."

His jaw clenched at the implication behind my words. Laughing inside, I left him to his thoughts (not like he could do anything else) and exited the room.

~Fin~