Chapter 19: Dreams

The vampire swore, “Bloody fucking hell! Think Willow. What exactly did that little weasel say – does she have to ‘go downstairs and onstage,’ or did he say that she has to ‘go down on stage?’”

“What’s the diff?” Willow began before she turned bright red. Buffy was already as pale as a sheet.

“How many guards are out there, Will? We can still fight our way out, find some spell to counteract the curse on the contract, then make a side deal with Anton – I’m sure he’ll go for it, saw the way he was looking at you-“

Willow was shaking her head.

“They came prepared. There’s at least thirty guards out there, now, a lot of them with those stun clubs. They’d probably have a hard time getting in here and dragging you out, but they could probably do it, especially if they called for reinforcements. It seems they figured you might try to back out and make a run for it.”

“No,” Buffy offered, “If we make a run for it, even if we are successful, Anton probably wouldn’t be willing to make a deal with us later. And there’s no guarantee that we could break the curse on the contract. We don’t have any other choice. We’ve got to go through with it.”

“Slayer, you don’t know what this is about. You haven’t the faintest idea what you’re getting yourself into.” Why he was trying to talk her out of this? Wasn’t this the very fabric of his wettest dreams? Even as he told himself to shut up, he heard the words come out of his mouth, “You don’t have to do this, Buffy. We’ll find another way,” Spike offered.

Buffy bit her lip, thinking hard. She couldn’t really see any other way. It was going to be distasteful, she knew that. But she couldn’t just abandon Tara.

“No,” Buffy shook her head. “I think we have to go along with it. Besides, we’re not really sure what it entails.”

Spike snorted. “Don’t fool yourself, pet. If you think it’s necessary, then we’ll do it- but know going in what you are getting yourself into. It was one thing when you were being sold as blood stock – I could have faked a bite pretty easily. But this…I think we should cut our losses and get out of here. Sneak out the bloody window if we can, fight our way out if we have to, deal with the consequences later. The Council may be full of wankers, but they’re powerful, Buffy. If anyone can break a magically enhanced contract, they’d be the ones to do it. But it’s your call, Buffy. I’ll follow your lead. You know that. Either way, you’re the one that’s going to have to live with the consequences.”

Buffy didn’t deliberate long. Apparently the dream she’d had the other night, the one where she’d been …intimate with Spike in front of an audience…apparently it had been a Slayer dream after all. Somehow she’d known it all along. She swallowed hard. “Fine. Then we go.”

Spike wasted no time. “Do us a favor, Willow. Get whatever’s in the mini-bar and start pouring. It’ll be easier on you, Buffy, if you’re just a little drunk. Falling down plastered would be better – but we haven’t enough time. I know you’ll sober up fast enough to do what needs to be done once the sale is over, what with your Slayer constitution and all. But between the booze and the thrall, maybe we can make this just a bit easier on you.”

He poured almost a dozen small bottles of various liquors into the tall glass Willow offered, and then added a splash of coke. “Drink up.”

Wrinkling her nose in distaste Buffy complained, “I am not drinking that! You know Buffy and alcohol are unmixy things.”

The pounding on the door resumed. Apparently their grace period was up. A guard’s voice came through to them loud and clear. The enchantment only worked to keep sounds inside.

“Time’s up. We’re gonna escort you both to the stage – whether you’re ready or not.”

Spike pushed the cup closer to Buffy. “Come on. Just a swallow then.” He urged.

As she lifted the cup to take a sip, just to shut him up, Spike pushed the bottom so that half its contents splashed into her mouth. Buffy sputtered as she swallowed, glaring daggers at Spike the whole time.

“You can thank me later, Slayer. You should have had it all.” He took the remainder of the drink and downed it all in one gulp.

“Guess that’s it then. We’d better go. Red, I strongly suggest that you stay here till we’re well away from the room. Under no circumstances are you to go anywhere near that auction hall. It’s too risky, and I won’t be in any position to help should that glamour fail again. You need to get the car ready and over to Anton’s so we’re prepared for a quick escape.”

Reluctantly the vampire and the Slayer opened the door and stepped out past the waiting throng of guards and curious onlookers.

Oddly, all Buffy could think of was the liquor. If Spike felt that he needed a drink to fortify himself before stepping onto that stage, how much worse was it going to be for her?

The dream that she had had earlier came back full force:


"And now, the next item for your viewing pleasure," the emcee barked jovially, "Master Spike's latest conquest."

A burst of applause rang through the hall.

Buffy peered out from her place in the wings, and looked at Spike standing beside her. He'd put on his vamp face, but she could tell he was scared. This wasn't good. If he was scared...

Before she could finish that thought, he'd tugged her by her collar out to center stage.

An interested murmur rippled through the crowd, and Buffy squinted into the lights to scan the audience. Vampires seated at tables, drinking blood martinis, leering at her.

"Spin around for the nice people, pet," Spike said. "Let 'em get a good look."

She obeyed and turned slowly, feeling naked and exposed.

"She's too skinny!" A man called out.

"Not nearly enough to snack on!" An amused woman yelled.

"Master Spike?" the emcee asked. "Why don't you give us a sample of what she's good for?"

"She's only good for one thing," Spike said smugly, and pushed Buffy onto her knees. His voice dropped to a lower register. "But she's very good at it."

Before her eyes, he unzipped his leather pants and bared his thick cock.

She gulped. This wasn't the plan... "Spike?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"Go on," Spike ordered. "Don't keep your audience waiting, girl."

In what felt like slow motion, she took it into her hands, and pressed her lips against its velvety tip. Opening her mouth, she dutifully brought him in.

"That's a good girl," he encouraged.

Spike wrapped his hand behind her head, prodding her on as she expertly bobbed against his pelvis.

"As you can see," she heard the emcee say, "she may not be suckable, but she really knows how to suck!"

The audience laughed and applauded wildly.

"And now for the best part," Spike said, and jumped on top of her.

Suddenly, they were naked and in their hotel room, fucking feverishly as he sucked on her neck.

I'm dreaming, Buffy realized, and woke up with a start.

~Excerpt from chapter titled “Naked” by Nautibitz.


Well, she wasn’t dreaming now. Or if she was, she really, really hoped that she would wake up soon and find herself safely back in her own bed in Sunnydale. But that didn't seem likely.