15. Rescue


Quite sometime later, the sound of a wheelchair scraping over stone rang through the halls, but neither woman seemed to hear it. The Slayer was hovering on the brink of unconsciousness, hoping that she’d drift over the edge. She was covered from head to toe in scratches and shallow (and not so shallow) wounds that Dru had made with her fingernails. And Drusilla was happily licking up the blood she had caused to flow. So far at least, all without one single bite.

Spike contemplated the scene before him. Both women were naked and covered in blood and cum. How the idiot of a ponce could have set up a scene like this and then walked out without staying to watch it was more than he could fathom. Damn, but it was hot! Words couldn’t express how much he longed to climb up there with them and show them both how much they needed his nice long cock to finish off the evening for them. He wasn’t usually one to watch, that was Angelus’s gig, but right now the idea held a special appeal. And of course he couldn’t actually do all the things he was imagining at the moment – not while he was still bound to a wheelchair.

It had been a stroke of good luck that Spike had run into Angelus on his way out of the mansion and found out what was up. Drusilla was unreliable, and Angelus should have known that.

As soon as he was certain that Angelus had in fact left the premises, Spike had called for help. Unfortunately, it had taken him forever to find a minion to carry both him and the chair down the stairs to the basement. He had briefly considered throwing himself down – except that he wouldn’t have been able to maneuver once he reached the bottom. If he’d been delayed a mere half-hour more, and he wasn’t sure that there’d have been much left of the Slayer for him to rescue.

Spike knew that Drusilla was never one for following orders or worrying about consequences! And Angelus ought to have known it too. The only tricky part was what to do now. It wasn’t like he could physically restrain Dru from where he sat. And all of the minions were afraid of her.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” Spike called from his chair.

Drusilla barely raised her head to reply. “Mmmm. Delicious.”

“Remember the last time we both tasted Slayer, ducks? That Chinese bird. Remember how we danced all night after that, Dru. Like the sun would never rise again. Do you remember, luv?”

He’d finally gotten her attention. “Like fireflies in the moonlight. Or blackberries and brambles. Do you want a taste, my Spike? Daddy said no, but then he left us all alone. I won’t tell on you. We’ll be naughty together. He said not to bite, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t drink, since she’s already flowing. That’ll teach Daddy to leave his Princess. It’s so much more fun to play together.”

“Now, now, Dru. I think you’ve had enough, and I don’t need any.” The Slayer was almost done for, she was so riddled with cuts and scrapes. But he could see that Dru had only been aroused further by the taste of Buffy’s blood. She wasn’t finished playing yet, not by a long shot.

Spike pitched his voice low and husky, tempting. “We don’t need the pesky Slayer, Dru. I just want you. It’s been so long now since we’ve played together.”

Dru licked her lips and climbed off the pedestal that held the Slayer. Stalking towards Spike, she stopped when the cold metal of the wheelchair barred her way. “But we can’t, Spike. You’re not well.”

“Well enough, pet. Well enough where it matters.” He took her hand and placed it on his straining erection. He was so hard from the sight of the two of them together, it was like a taste of nirvana to finally feel Dru’s touch.

It was difficult to act seductive from the prone position of the chair, but Spike was trying hard. “Don’t bleeding need legs to be a man, Princess. Slayer doesn’t have what you need now, pet. Come here and I’ll give you what you need.” She settled in his lap and he kissed her greedily. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

She broke away, “But Daddy said I was to amuse myself with the Slayer. She’s been bad, playing without permission, and Daddy wanted me to punish her.”

“And you did, pet. You did. But she’s all played out now. And I haven’t even started. You know it’s not as much fun once they’ve passed out. And I’m sure that she won’t come to for quite a while yet.”

This last was spoken louder, so that he was sure that the Slayer could hear him. He could only hope that she got the message, and if she wasn’t really unconscious yet, she’d pretend that she was. He needed to distract Dru from the soft moans beginning to sound again from the broken form on the altar by trailing kisses down her neck. But Dru still wasn’t having any.

She pushed him away. “No, Spike. I want to cut and bash and make her bleed.” She held up her hand and began licking the blood from her fingertips.

“Angelus will be angry if you kill her, Dru.” Reason wasn’t usually the best tactic with Drusilla, but he was willing to try anything. “He may have let you play with her for a bit, but she’s his toy, Dru. They’ll be punishment for you if you break her.”

“I don’t care,” Dru pouted. “She was rude to me and Daddy. I want to watch her suffer.”

“No. You don’t Dru. You just want to hurt something. I can understand that.” His eyes flicked briefly to the Slayer – she was lying still, eyes closed, but Spike could tell she was conscious and aware of what was going on around her. At least she was playing possum like he’d suggested. She wasn’t completely stupid then, though how she had allowed herself to be put in this position, especially after last time, well, it was beyond him to figure it out.

Unfortunately, the Slayer’s super strength was going to work against her in this situation; it had allowed her to endure far more pain than a normal human could stand and still remain conscious. The question he was pondering was whether it would be worth what it might cost him to make sure that the games ended here and now, before any permanent harm was done.

For a moment he considered taking Dru up on her offer and help her torture the chit. But she’d tried to be kind to him, when she didn’t have to. Besides, if he joined Dru and the Slayer took permanent damage from it, there’d be hell to pay for it. Better all in all to end things where they were. Doubtless he would be the one to bear all the blame if the Slayer died from Dru’s attentions.

He raised his eyes to his dark princess and took her hand in his. “You don’t need her, Dru.” He kissed her palm, pulled her close and whispered in her ear. “Do it to me, pet. Won’t matter if my legs don’t work chained to that slab, now will it?” He raised his brows suggestively. “Come on, luv. Give it to me good.”

Drusilla still protested. “But you don’t like it when I hurt you, Spike. You’ve told me ever so many times…”

“Part of the game, innit? It wouldn’t be near as much fun if I let on how much I wanted it. Come on, she’s no use to you anymore. You’ve tasted her, and I know what you need now. Half-dead slayer meat isn’t going to be enough.”

“Alright. But what if Daddy is cross that his toy is gone when he gets back?” Dru smiled like a little girl. “I’m going to tell him it was all your fault.”

“Why would he be cross, pet? He didn’t want her, left her to play with us.”

“He didn’t want to play with us,” Dru whined. “Bad Daddy.”

Sticking one finger in her mouth, Dru appeared to be lost in thought for a moment. Or else she was communing with her dolls again. Perhaps with Drusilla it was the same thing.

“I think you’re right Spike. We don’t need the nasty Slayer. I’ll cut her throat, and then we’ll be rid of her once and all.”