Chapter Three:Decisions


Buffy could feel the softness of the pillow against her sore cheek and her throbbing neck while the cold metal manacles bit and chafed the skin at her wrists. She was waking up to find that she’d been dressed in same shirt she had been wearing the night before and chained to one end of the bed. She rested on her side, her legs curled up into the fetal position; her body desperately seeking some form of comfort after being assaulted for the countless time in the past 48 hours. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to let anyone know she was awake.

Buffy wished she could just stay in bed and dream this whole nightmare away. She hated how Spike made her feel; how he was the reason behind her pain but at the same time managed to bring her so much pleasure. She despised what he’d turned her into, an object at his disposal for his own amusement. She wanted nothing more than to be back home in her mother’s embrace and have her little sister borrow her clothes without asking. She didn’t want to die, and her anger induced schpeals about dignity and morality weren’t bettering her chances at survival. She decided that she wasn’t going to cause waves; she was going to be a good little slave and simply wait. Wait until he let his guard down and then light the bed on fire with only him in it.

“Good, you’re awake.”

Buffy rolled over towards the voice, seeing a fully dressed Spike standing by the bed, glaring down at her. She cringed away from his look; it feeling as painful as if he had actually hit her again. “Get up,” he ordered.

With the chains wrapped around the iron headboard of the bed, she felt like a leashed dog, with limited freedom but enough leeway to maneuver. She got out of bed, the chains clanking to the floor as she slipped in front of him, head bowed, waiting for instructions.

Spike began to walk around her, inspecting her like he did the night she’d been captured. ‘What day was it? How long have I been in this hell?’ she wondered. Her sleeping pattern had been so messed up ever since she had arrived and it was always so dark that she never knew what time of day it was. She turned her focus back on the vampire who, from what she could see from beneath her lashes, was stalking about her.

“You know Slave; you upset me greatly with your little outburst. Gave it to me good, didn’t you? My poor boys hadn’t been kicked like that in ages. And you weren’t afraid to use that mouth of yours to tell me a thing or two either,” he reached out a hand and firmly lifted her chin so that her eyes met his. Giving her a seductively evil smirk, he said, “Now get on your knees and use it to show me how sorry you are.”

Buffy had to suppress the bile that was rising in her stomach. She sunk to her knees before him, knowing exactly what he wanted her to do. She wasn’t shocked; she knew why she was still alive and figured this would continue for some time. And blowjobs weren’t foreign to her either, they weren’t common, but they weren’t intimidating.

At that moment she thought of James, her high school sweetheart, and remembered how they had lost their virginity together. She remembered when they had explored one another, and she had been so scared and didn’t know what to do. He’d been so gentle, so patient. She missed him. ‘God, why did I decide to come to Sunnydale?’ she thought as she unbuckled Spike’s belt. ‘And why didn’t I convince Cordy to leave this town?’

She began to unzip his jeans, fighting back the tears at the sudden thought that her best friend might be dead, and pulled them down. She realized he was a commando kind of vampire. Buffy wrapped her hand around the base of his semi-erect cock, slowly stroking it as it became slightly even more erect. She gradually brought her mouth before his member, her warm breath sending obvious shivers through Spike.

When she engulfed him, he hissed from how hot her mouth was relative to his cool dick. She unhurriedly twirled her tongue around his shaft as she took him in fully, then scraping her teeth along it as she pulled him out. Buffy flicked her tongue over the sensitive head and found a spot on its underside that made him moan loudly. She could feel his hands rake through her hair, needing to find something to hold onto. She reached out with one of her still manacle clad hand and started to massage his balls, further increasing his moaning.

Suddenly, the strong hands in her hair pulled her off of him. She yelped from the pain, seeing Spike angrily look down at her. “I know what kind of girl you are luv, but stop fucking around, keep your mouth open and stay still,” he said as he watched her drop her hands to her side and parted her swollen lips.

He abruptly slid his dick back into her mouth, hitting her in the back of her throat. Grabbing her head roughly, fingers pulling at her hair, he pumped into her, fucking her mouth. She groaned from the pain of her hair being pulled, causing her throat muscles to vibrate around him, augmenting his pleasure as he continued to thrust into her. Buffy desperately tried to hinder her gag reflex as he deep throated her, hoping he’d come soon just so it would be over with.

As though her wishes had been heard, Spike violently came, spilling his cool seed in her throat as she tried to swallow it all, knowing she’d have to face his furry if she didn’t. He seemed like the kind of sadomasochist who wouldn’t appreciate her spitting out his come. His grip on her loosened and he slid out of her mouth, walking shakily over to the bed as he pulled his black jeans back up to his waist. Buffy remained kneeling, raising a hand to wipe her mouth, watching him as he sat down on the bed.

“You’re forgiven, Slave.”

Buffy cringed at how his words could make her feel so much dirtier than any vile act he forced her to do. “Thank you, Master.” She hated having to be submissive, but she needed him to think she was caving in, that she wasn’t going to run or pull anything like she had before. She needed to convince him or she’d never be free.

Spike smiled at the spectacle of her. He knew she wasn’t a pushover, that she was doing all of this from fear of him draining her. “Come here, pet,” he instructed, his voice much softer.

She got up off her knees and dragged the chains towards where he was sitting at the bed’s edge. She remained standing, her head still bowed as she waited for him to say something else. “I don’t wish to be cruel, but if you make me upset, you have to be taught a lesson,” he explained as he got up from the bed. “I’m gonna scratch us up some grub. Figured you might be peckish. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone. That’ll be my only warning to you, Slave.” And with that the platinum vampire was out the door.

Buffy collapsed face down onto the bed, pulling her chained arms around her. She was exhausted and sick, unsure if life was worth living if it meant being William the Bloody’s fuck slave. She suddenly realized she was still only wearing the now stretched black t-shirt. Her only other clothes were completely torn and bloodied. What did it matter anyway? She might as well walk around naked, make it easier for the asshole of a vampire.

Buffy sat back up, knowing sleep wasn’t exactly what she should be doing. God, she wanted nothing more than just to escape into her dreams, but she had to think of a way to get out of this prison. Her only plan so far had been to try and be a good little slave until he let his guard down; then she would make her move. Problem was, with a house packed with hungry vamps at Spike’s beck and call, she wasn’t sure what that move should be.

The door suddenly opened, and Spike walked in with what looked like a bag of food from a take out restaurant. Smelling the greasy food made Buffy’s stomach rumble, but for some reason she couldn’t shake off the nausea that the mere sight of the blond vamp was bringing forth. “Here Slave, eat.” He held out the paper bag, expecting her to take it.

Buffy risked defiantly looking up at his face, her eyes glaring in pure hatred. “Not hungry,” she replied before insolently turning her back to him.

Spike’s jaw clenched. He thought he had gotten through to her. Guess that meant a few more lessons in obedience. He stalked over to the bed and spun her around, eyes flashing yellow as though he was about to go into game face. The anger and impatience on his face were evident, but she didn’t care. She kept her line of sight with his, ready for anything he was about to say or do. “Eat.”

It was all he said, as though the simplicity of the words were to suppose to instill some sort of fear in her. Looking back at him, she said, “I would rather starve.”

At that point Spike lost it and smacked her across the face, sending Buffy flying off the bed and onto the floor. It wasn’t enough force to knock her out, but it did sting like a bitch. Bringing her hand up to her newly swollen cheek, Buffy gazed up at Spike, who was intimidating in the way he stood above her. The fast food bag was thrown to the floor, it hitting her in the shoulder before it smashed into the ceramic tile, and Spike continued to tower above her, arms crossed.

Buffy stayed completely motionless, hand still on face and shoulder now newly doused with grease. It was at that point that it all fell apart. Sure, things were had already hit rock bottom but it was then that everything inside of her just shattered to pieces.

The tears began to cascade down her reddened face, which soon turned into gut wrenching sobs that consumed her entire body. She fell to the floor, curling up into a ball, holding her head in her hands. She ignored the vampire and continued to let every single cry, every single pent up tear that she had been holding back ever since she had arrived to this godforsaken place.

Cordy was dead. She had to be. Spike had said she was the only one to survive the attack on the club. Her best friend was gone. If she had only followed her gut and convinced Cordy to leave Sunnydale, to move onto the next town on their summer road trip, she’d still be alive. But she hadn’t and now Cordy was gone.

Everything was gone; her life, her freedom, her dignity. In less than two days she had gone from a UCLA undergraduate on a fun summer road trip to the warm body some Master vampire fucks to get his jollies. She was stubborn and she was strong, but she wasn’t invincible. She missed her family and desperately wished her mom would just hold her and make the monster go away. But the monster would never go away. He would never let her go.

She didn’t know why she had fought him on the food. All she had wanted was to get some control back and deciding whether or not to eat was the only freedom she had left. Buffy didn’t know if pretending to give into him was such a good idea anymore. If she did, it would mean giving up every single ounce of free will she had left. She didn’t know how much longer she would last if she did.

Spike watched as the human girl kept wailing as though he was torturing her. Her small body rocked from the powerful sobs that were coming out of her mouth. He watched, at first annoyed that she was now doing something else to contradict him but then he became perplexed. Not at what she was doing, but what her crying was doing to him. He felt something; he wasn’t sure what exactly. It wasn’t disgust or even pity. It was a sad feeling, painful just to watch her.

Utterly shocked, he realized he felt guilty. Not having felt it in so long, he didn’t recognize it at first and it petrified him. Feeling as though he had lost all motor functions, Spike backed away from her and stumbled to the door, frantically trying to get out of the room.

As the large wooden door flew shut, he slid down against it to the floor, face cradled in his hands. Only when he had slightly composed himself did he take note of the two minions who were posted to the room to keep guard. “Leave me!” Spike ordered in a not too pleasant tone, causing the vamps to almost run out of the hallway.

Taking in an unnecessary breath, Spike patted himself down in search of cigarettes. Lighting one, he took a long drag before he allowed his mind to return to his uncharacteristic feelings of remorse. How could he feel sorry about what he did? He was a vampire, no soul, no problem. Was it him? Did someone give him a soul like his poncy Sire without him knowing it? No, that couldn’t be it. He would know, wouldn’t he? Spike figured that it must be Buffy, his new thorn in his side. It had to be. Her incessant crying was like a hole deep in his chest, like a hand twisting his guts. But why her? She was definitely more trouble than she was worth. Than why didn’t he just kill her? When he had told Natasha and Damon that he had kept her alive, they were utterly shocked. What vampire keeps a human other than to feed?

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Spike sighed deeply. Was it because she had been the best fuck he’d had in ages? Maybe the demon saw her more as a release for his carnal impulses as opposed to just a good meal. Or maybe it was the small remnants of the man he had once been that longed to be loved, and who yearned for someone to just be his. Finishing the cig, Spike put it out in an old decorative vase that he usually used as an ashtray.

He knew he needed to go back inside the room and deal with her. However, he wasn’t completely sure how. Spike didn’t want to drive her into further hysterics but he didn’t want to lose the edge he had gained over her. Figuring he’d simply wing it, he slowly pushed the door open and slid into the room, making sure it was locked before he turned to face what he had left behind.

He found Buffy still on the floor, curled up just like she had been, but this time the sobs were gone, replaced instead by sparse tears and muted hiccups. Spike opted to react, not think, just act, as he knelt down next to her. She flinched when he placed his hand on her arm, but he ignored it, undoing the manacles around her wrists. Buffy remained stiff with eyes unfocused that stared out at the floor in front of her. He picked her up into his arms and laid her gently back onto the bed. Spike pulled the blankets over her, deciding to sit down in his chair and wait until she snapped out of it.

Buffy wrists were raw from the rusty chains. She didn’t notice she was in bed until five minutes after being tucked in. As though waking up from a dream, Buffy came back to earth and all she saw was Spike watching her from his seat across the room. “You need to rest, go ahead and sleep,” he said arms crossed over his chest, trying hard not to look like he was being merciful.

Buffy shook her head. “Too tired to sleep,” she croaked; her voice hoarse from all the crying she had been doing.

Spike nodded. “Fine, then at least eat. You probably haven’t had anything in twenty four hours,” he said getting up and handing her the only salvageable item left in the squashed paper bag, a wrapped up cheeseburger.

Buffy took it without saying a word, unwrapped it, and took a bite. Eating the not-so-great-tasting burger, Buffy’s hunger intensified and soon she was ravenously devouring the sandwich until it was completely gone. Feeling a bit embarrassed at her sudden pig out, Buffy kept her head bowed, not wishing to meet his eyes again.

After a few minutes, she felt the bed sink a little and looked up to see Spike sitting next to her. He pulled the blankets back up to her chin and got comfortable in the spot beside her on the king sized bed. Buffy kept still, tense and distant from his actions, confused at his sudden change in attitude. He didn’t move to touch her, just letting her be as he reclined against the headboard.

“You’re gonna need clothes and whatever else you humans need to stay clean. When you feel up to it, I’ll get Natasha to get you what you need,” he said, not looking at her, his eyes focused on the end of the bed.

Buffy only nodded, unsure how she was supposed to respond. She had expected her breakdown to be the last straw; she was surprised when he hadn’t walked back in to kill her. There was an awkwardness now, tension in the air as they both quietly sat on the bed.

The silence was broken when Spike let out an unnecessary breath. “Thought of siring you, but decided ‘gainst it. Got enough vamps around me and haven’t been with a human in a long, long time. Figured it was time for a change. Making you my slave isn’t just something I want but it’s also something you need. The vamps ‘round these parts don’t keep pet humans unless it’s to feed off ‘em like cattle. For my vampires to accept you and to even protect you, they have to think you’re absolutely mine. So I tried to get you to submit, not really considering the possibility that you just might go bug shaggin’ crazy,” Spike stated slowly turning to face Buffy as he finished.

There, it was done. The ball was now in her court. It was all up to her whether she would continue to fight him or just give in. He admired that she was strong, a lot stronger than he had expected her to be. Spike didn’t want to break her anymore than he already had. He wanted her to stay the spitfire she was when she had been first brought to him. There was a fiery passion in her hazel eyes that he never wanted to see extinguished. He didn’t really want a brainless slave at his beck and call; he wanted, no make that needed, someone to challenge him.

A hundred plus years of killing, feeding and fucking were becoming a little mundane, especially in a town like Sunnydale. Buffy was a change, a breath of fresh air. That’s all it was, he reflected. He needed something new in his life. The foreign feeling of guilt that had stirred within him earlier had occurred in the context that he didn’t want to lose a potential challenge. It had nothing to do with the beautiful girl beside him and how she had broken down into a mess of tears and sobs from his unrelenting dominance. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was the first human he had encountered since he had been turned and not killed. It was all about his needs and had nothing to do with his lack of interest in hers. The feeling hadn’t been guilt for someone else; it was self-deprecation for almost ruining his chances at something different in his unlife. She wasn’t getting to him; she couldn’t be getting to him, right?

Buffy didn’t know what to say. She knew he was waiting for her to say something. Could she cave in? Could she live with herself if she did? What were the alternatives? Death. Sure a few hours ago she might have welcomed it, but at that moment, she was petrified at the thought of dying. She didn’t know if she could muster enough energy to face any brutal death that no doubt Spike would exact upon her for not submitting.

The only other option was doing what the vampire wanted. Just submit. Give in to him and be his wiling slave. Maybe she could try and maybe if she didn’t fight him on it, he wouldn’t be such a fucking asshole. He was being kinda okay at the moment. She could deal with that, right? Buffy took in a long deep breath. She would accept the fact she was his slave and no longer had any freedom, but she promised herself that she wouldn’t give up. The first chance she saw that could potentially get her out of this prison, she would take it without a second thought. She just had to be patient and wait. That or somehow convince the blond vamp to let her go. But that would never happen.

“I submit.”

Those two little words were exactly what Spike had been waiting to hear. He reached out a hand to Buffy’s neck, which made her whole body tense even more, and started to stroke his mark. Almost instantly Buffy’s voice hitched in her throat and she melted in his hands as he dragged his cool thumb around the two small puncture wounds.

He knew what touching his mark would do. He wanted to reward her like a good Master should. She agreed to be his and he was going to show her the benefits of that title. Spike could hear her heart start to pound erratically in her chest and her breathing became nothing but short gasps. He didn’t want to give her too much, she had to earn the rest, but giving her a taste of what could be should give her a little incentive.

Pulling his hand away, he heard her whimper in disappointment and felt her mold against his side, trying to calm herself down. He liked how his petting had relaxed her enough to allow herself to rest her head against his chest. The heat coming off of her alone was enough to burn him to the core. Not to mention that the scent of her arousal was forcing him to use all his will power just to not jump her and screw her brains out.

Buffy didn’t know what had just happened. One minute she was willingly agreeing to become Spike’s slave and then the next she verging on a mind shattering orgasm. What had he done? Touch her neck? Touch his bite? Why did it make her see fireworks? Was it some kind of vampire voodoo? Finally calming down, Buffy suddenly realized that half of her was nearly sprawled out on top of him. She slowly peered up with a look of complete perplexity plastered on her face.

“What did you do?” she asked hoarsely, her question filled with genuine confusion.

“I touched the mark that I left on your neck, pet,” he said looking down into her saucer wide eyes.

“Why would that make me almost co…I mean…How can it make me feel the way it did?” she asked, her cheeks blushing at her near slip up.

“Vampire thing, pet. It’s what Sire’s do to their Childers, to keep them in line. But what you felt is only a sliver of what a Childe would feel from a Sire’s touch. The connection is more than physical and the bond between them is much more heightened. What you felt is only residual but my touch, and only my touch, brings it out.”

“So humans don’t usually experience that?” she asked truly interested.

“Not really. Most people end up dead after vamps get through with ‘em,” he answered, making sure she understood how rare it was for him to even keep her alive.

“What’s a sire?” she asked meekly, unsure if her curiosity was gonna get her in trouble.

“’S the vamp that makes another vamp. Depending on how much blood is exchanged, the person who becomes the vamp will be their Childe.”

“Blood needs to be exchanged?” she asked.

“Yup. Person gets sucked almost dry, ‘til their almost dead. Then vamp cuts his wrist and gives his blood to them. Pretty basic actually.”

“I see.” Buffy remained nestled against his side, finding herself suddenly at ease.

“Go ahead and rest, pet.”

Spike soon felt her breathing steady out, telling him that she was sleeping. He had managed to get her to calm down and realize that she was better off not fighting him on everything. He liked the feeling of her small form snuggled up next to him, her tiny elegant hands casually sprawled on his chest, mere inches away from her serene looking face.

Spike pulled her closer to him and she simply responded by letting him. He tried to stay awake but he was starting to get tired, his eyelids feeling heavy, and as he slowly slipped into a dreamless sleep, the unfamiliar yet strangely comforting feeling of peace took over him.