A/N: *points to warnings* Pleeeeease take them seriously. Direct quote from my beta: "I think I'm going to need therapy; you've given me PTSD." (Sorry 'bout that, UB...) I can't afford to pay for therapy for all of you, so don't read if you're squicked by torture.

*****

Chapter 3: Deadly Boy

Spike awoke again, unsure if he’d been out for minutes or hours, as he felt something crack against his stomach. When he opened his eyes, Drusilla stood before him, whip in hand.

“My Spike has been a naughty boy,” Drusilla said, accenting the word “naughty” with another crack of the whip, this time slicing through his jeans and cutting across his thighs. Spike felt the sting of the welts that were beginning to form. “Believing the Slayer’s lies.”

Oh, Buffy… He felt the swell of self-loathing in his gut. For all his loyalty, all his devotion, he’d betrayed her when his dark mistress came calling. Dru paced in front of him, lashing out occasionally with the whip. “He listens to the sunshine now.” Crack. “Won’t do, won’t do. Sunshine burns, my pet.” Crack. “Mummy must teach you not to touch.”

Spike winced as she hit him again and again. His breath caught in his throat as the whip slashed across his penis, still hanging out of his pants from Dru’s last visit. The sting sent twin bolts of pain and pleasure shooting through his body. His resolve began to falter as he started to wonder if she was right. Buffy herself had said she’d never love him. Was he a fool for staying by her side? Was he just denying his true nature? He was evil, wasn’t he? For Christ’s sake, here he was, getting off on being tortured. Buffy would be disgusted if she could see him.

“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled, half to himself and half to Dru. “I love her.”

Drusilla screamed and slashed the whip across his face. “And you’ll kill her,” she hissed. “I can feel her coming, nearer, nearer. Coming to steal my Spike.”

He closed his eyes, praying that Dru was telling the truth and not just babbling. “But she’ll never take you. Brothers and sisters, all around, take care of the Slayer.” She got right up in his face, and Spike flinched. “Mummy loves you, Spike.”

“Stop saying that!” he said, with the last of his strength. “You’re not my mother.”

His defiance only served to enrage her further, as she vamped out again and attacked him furiously, tearing his skin apart with her razor-sharp nails. When she pulled back, his face and chest were littered with nail gouges, rivulets of blood dripping from the marks. He’d lost an awful lot of blood in the multiple beatings he’d sustained, and it was beginning to take its toll.

Drusilla seemed to sense that, as her anger faded with her game face, and she gently bent down to unshackle his feet. Once she had freed his hands, Spike collapsed facedown on the ground, utterly drained of his strength.

“My poor Spike,” she murmured, stroking his hair tenderly. “He doesn’t know, mustn’t touch. Lets the sunshine take my deadly boy away.”

With great difficulty, Spike managed to raise himself up on his hands and knees, pushing slowly off the ground. It was all for naught, however, for as soon as he was on all fours, Dru’s whip came crashing down across his back, knocking him back to the floor.

“Mummy must teach you,” Dru said, fisting one hand in his hair and dragging him over to a chair in the corner of the cave – not violently or angrily, but carelessly, as though he were just one of her dolls, a toy to be played with. She draped him over the seat of the chair on his stomach, and cuffed his hands to the bar that connected the chair’s legs – not that he was in any condition to resist or escape.

Once she’d positioned him to her liking, she unceremoniously yanked his jeans down so that they pooled around his knees. “Mummy must teach Spike not to be a naughty boy,” she repeated, and again, he felt the sting of the whip as it cracked across his back, then lower, against his ass and thighs.

“Dru,” he gasped, summoning what little strength he had left. “Please, baby, don’t…”

“She doesn’t love you,” Drusilla said, in a matter-of-fact tone, as though she were talking about the weather. “She’ll never love you.” Crack. “Not like I do.” Crack. “My deadly boy has been tricked by the sunshine, but the darkness will take him back.”

With his back covered in angry red welts that he felt but couldn’t see, Spike heard the whip clatter to the floor by his head, and he breathed a sigh of relief. It only lasted a moment, though, before his entire body seized up in shocked pain. With no warning and no preparation, Dru had shoved two fingers into his asshole, causing his muscles to clamp down in protest.

The vampiress let out a mad giggle. “This is how Daddy used to teach you,” she said, forcing her fingers in and out, despite the strong resistance she met in his tight channel. Spike cried out in agony, but she only giggled more in response. She added a third finger and thrust into him until her hand came out slick with blood. His erection ached, hardened instinctively by the stimulation, though he would never come when there was no pleasure with his pain. Spike squeezed his eyes shut to keep the traitorous tears from escaping, his mind traveling back a century to relive the repeated humiliations he’d suffered at the hands of Angelus, full of shame that his precious sweet princess could see it all.

“But my Willy never listened to Daddy, either,” Dru said, pulling her fingers out of him and scissoring them in the air, watching with fascination as the blood oozed down her hand. Spike tried to struggle weakly, to break free of the cuffs, but any way he moved caused excruciating pain, and he collapsed back onto the chair with a defeated groan.

“Now, now, pet,” Drusilla chastened him, petting his head. “My William is a free spirit, but he must learn to dance in the night, for the day will burn him.”

He couldn’t see what she was doing, but in the next instant, he felt it – hot, searing pain on his back, as Dru made looping patterns with the stream of holy water. He screamed, an echoing bellow that reverberated through the cave, as the careless swirls of fiery liquid burned into his already tattered skin.

Then, mercifully, he passed out, and he felt nothing.

*****

Buffy’s next stop was the Bronze. Something had been bothering her. If there were as many vampires as Dawn thought there’d been, it meant a pretty sharp increase in the undead population in Sunnydale. But they hadn’t seen an increase in victims. A horde of vampires that wasn’t feeding? That meant they were lying low, trying to avoid catching the attention of the Slayer.

But maybe now that they had Spike, now that they’d gotten what they came for, some of them might be trolling for dinner.

Following her hunch, Buffy headed for the one place in Sunnydale that was practically an all-you-can-eat buffet of tipsy young people, many of who were willing to leave with any pretty face.

“I never do this,” the petite brunette protested, a slight slur to her words as she stumbled down the alley. “I mean, I don’t just go home with every guy I meet.”

“Oh, totally, me either,” replied the young man accompanying her, even though they both knew they were lying. They stopped to grope each other in the shadows, placing sloppy, drunken kisses on each other’s faces. The guy backed the girl up against the wall and pressed his body against hers. “We don’t even have to go home,” he said. “We could go right here…”

“Okay.” The girl dropped the drunken act and morphed into her game face. “Let’s go.” She tightened her grip on the guy and sank her fangs into his neck.

Buffy dropped down from the fire escape leading from the building next to the Bronze. “Don’t you know the rules? Never kill a boy on the first date. It makes you seem easy.”

The vampire let out a growl and tossed the young man aside. He fell to the ground, then picked himself up and scrambled out of the alley while Buffy faced off against the vampire.

“Sorry, did I ruin your dinner?” asked Buffy, getting a running start and taking a leap towards the vamp, kicking her in the face. The vamp stumbled backwards, regained her balance, and returned the kick. The Slayer ducked and the blow missed her. The vampire wasn’t much more than a fledgling, and Buffy could easily beat her in a fair fight. She retaliated with a flurry of punches that had the vampire staggering backwards, unable to block or fight back.

Buffy paused, reaching down into her boot for a stake. The vampire took the opportunity to kick Buffy in the head, knocking her to the ground; but instead of attempting to finish her off, the vamp turned and high-tailed it out of the alley. Buffy smirked, kipped herself upright, and followed, keeping enough distance between her and the vampire so that she wouldn’t be noticed.

She followed the vamp to Miller’s Woods, to the mouth of a cave sticking out of a large rock formation. Lurking in the bushes, Buffy spotted four or five vampires loitering near the entrance – or, more likely, guarding it. The brunette stopped and conferred with the vampires outside, probably recounting her brush with the Slayer. The other vamps peered out into the trees, as if they suspected Buffy had followed. They didn’t seem to sense her, and soon went back to their conversation.

Confident that she’d found the gang who’d taken Spike, Buffy crept away from the cave, then broke into a sprint all the way back to the Magic Box. When she returned, it appeared as if no one had moved, but Buffy could tell from the looks that were shooting around the room that there’d been a heated discussion in her absence. Without saying a word, she headed to the training room, emerging with several stakes and a large battle-axe.

“There’s a cave near the northern edge of the woods,” she told them. “I’m sure that’s where they’re holding Spike.”

“How do you know this?” Giles asked with concern.

“I tailed a vampire back there from the Bronze.” When they looked at her with a mixture of surprise and confusion, she added, “I figured a gang that big, some of ’em gotta eat, and where else would they go on a Friday night in Sunnydale?”

Her friends’ expressions changed to something like admiration, but Buffy could see that she still didn’t have their full support.

She hoisted the battle-axe onto her shoulder. “Anyone who’s not coming with me, take care of Dawn.”

The Scoobies exchanged glances, and then Willow and Tara stood up and walked to Buffy’s side. “We’re with you, Buffy,” said Willow. Giles and Xander stood stonily, while Anya sat at the table, her eyes on her hands as she fiddled with her engagement ring.

Buffy sighed. “Okay, let’s go.” She headed out the door, the two witches on her heels.

“Buffy, wait!”

All three of them turned. “Giles, you can’t change my mind,” said Buffy.

“I realize that. But please, think this through. Don’t run off half-cocked.” Giles couldn’t help but be reminded of Buffy going off to fight a dragon without help. Then, he’d let her go. This time, he wouldn’t be so reckless.

“Oh, I think it’s fully cocked,” Buffy snapped back. She made a brief, disgusted expression at the metaphor then resumed her resolve face.

“Do you even have a plan?”

Buffy paused. Giles had a point. “Just your basic storm the castle routine.” She looked a little sheepish. “What? It’s not the invasion of Normandy, but it’s a plan.”

“Might I suggest a more strategic approach?”

She studied his face carefully. “You mean you want to help?”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Buffy had a brief, silent consultation with her supporters. They didn’t need to speak – their eyes spoke volumes. Buffy nodded, dropping her weapons and taking a seat at the research table. “Hit me.”

Giles sputtered and pushed his glasses further up on his nose. “I – I’m sorry?”

“With your plan. What have you got? Hit me.”

“I – well, I – truthfully, I hadn’t really…” Buffy gave him a reproving look. “We’ll think of something,” he said.

“Oh!” said Dawn. “Daytime!”

Buffy wrinkled her nose at her. “Huh?”

“They’re vampires, right? If you hit them during the day, you might catch some of them sleeping. Plus, they can’t chase you once you get out of the cave.”

“That’s good, Dawn,” said Tara.

“Bad,” Xander contradicted her. “You’re forgetting a major point here, guys. Spike’s a vampire. How are you going to get him out of the cave during the day without him going all dusty?” He paused and considered. “I’m not saying that’s a deal-breaker.”

“Let’s keep thinking,” Buffy said, ignoring Xander’s crack.

Giles turned to Willow and Tara while flipping through a book on the table, one of the ones he’d brought back from his wizard friend’s house. “You should research combat magic techniques. There may be some spells you will find useful.” He found the section he was looking for and handed it to the girls.

Willow’s eyes grew as big as saucers. “Look, this one makes a sword of fire! Wow, you can do that?”

“Look at this shielding spell!” Tara barely suppressed the grin on her face. “Maybe we should, uh, go in the training room and practice?”

Willow nodded, and they grabbed the book and scurried off to the training room. Dawn looked after them longingly. “Can I go watch?”

“Sure,” said Buffy.

“It might get sexy,” Anya warned.

“Dawn, stay here,” Buffy said.

“So, what do we do while they’re getting their Xena Warrior Witch thing on?” Xander asked.

A small smile crept onto Buffy’s face. “I think I have an idea.”

*****

Coming back to consciousness, Spike found himself once again chained to the wall, his jeans still slouched around his knees. He let his head fall forward in despair, even as the dead weight pulled on his aching neck and shoulder muscles. His arms felt like they were on fire, supporting most of his weight. He strained his ankles, as he’d done countless times already, trying to push himself up and shift the burden, but they screamed in protest even quicker than before and he slumped down again, letting his legs go slack as he dangled from his spread-eagled wrists.

Buffy.

Buffy would save him. She had to… unless Drusilla was right. Maybe he wasn’t worth saving. Just another vampire, whom she’d never allow herself to love, never allow herself to see as anything other than an evil, soulless thing. He was… stained, forever sullied by the blood of every one of his victims, destined to be unworthy of her without a conscience to wash himself clean. Why should she come for him?

Drusilla appeared out of nowhere, a wicked grin on her face. “You’re a dirty boy, my Spike,” she said, as though pulling the thoughts right out of his head. She ran her hands over his temples, through his hair. “My dirty, dirty boy. I know what you crave.” He opened his mouth to say No! but she’d already proven the power she still held over him, and the word died on his lips.

She took a step back so he could see the full length of her body as her long gown fluttered to the floor, revealing porcelain skin punctuated by plum-colored nipples and a dark tangle of curls at the apex of her thighs. His mouth began to water, and he felt an involuntary tug on his restraints as his hands strove to touch her; but he couldn’t even get close. She allowed him the feel of her body pressed against him, her soft breasts nuzzling his abraded chest, and he thrust his pelvis in an unsuccessful attempt to bury his erection between her legs.

She fixed him with a knowing gaze. “Yes, that’s what my boy wants, isn’t it?” He closed his eyes in shame, realizing how easily he could fall back under her spell. He tried to tell himself no, he didn’t want this, but his body betrayed him, arching into her touch as she ran her fingertips up his shaft.

“What she’ll never give you,” Dru continued. She stepped back, slid her fingernails across her wrist, and extended her hand to his mouth, the only part of her he could touch. “My boy knows what I can give him.” He hesitated, then vamped out and began to suckle at her bleeding wrist with reckless abandon.

His cock, already hard, swelled with the ache of unreleased tension. He bucked wildly, meeting nothing but air as she held her body just out of reach. He strained against his manacles, every muscle in his body visibly defined against his skin, until she could see in his eyes that he was so close to climax that the slightest touch would send him over the edge. She withdrew her hand from his mouth and knelt in front of him.

“Please, baby… Dru, precious sweet… please, pet…” he begged her.

Instead of inclining her head toward his erection, she rummaged around in the folds of the dress she’d left crumpled on the floor, until she pulled out a small bottle.

His game face melted away and cobalt blue eyes widened as his entreaties suddenly gained a fearful edge. “No… oh God, no… Dru, please, baby, no…”

His screams again echoed through the cave as the holy water cascaded over taut, sensitive skin, and faintly, through the haze of his pain, he could hear her giggling.

Just when he was on the cusp of unconsciousness, he heard the shifting of her facial features. Then, he felt the prick of her fangs slicing into his inner thigh, drawing out the blood she’d just given him. The exquisitely agonizing sensation finally prompted the orgasm he’d been begging for, now made immensely painful as his burned, swollen cock strained with the release. It was the last thing he felt before the blackness overtook him.