Buffy wriggled against her restraints as she slowly woke. Her eyes opened but all they could see was darkness, the blindfold stealing away her sight. She frowned as she realised that her wrists were now being bound by painfully tight ropes. Her fingers groped the cold metal bars that they were attached to. Underneath her she could feel soft padding, cushion like and expansive.

They'd moved her in the night.

Her breathing came quicker as she struggled to get her hands free of their bindings and she grunted against the gag that was tied tight across her mouth. Relenting, she lay still and panted through her nose, her heart clenching in her chest as she tried not to panic.

She'd spent what seemed like a week shut in a small room, her hands chained to her ankles and those chained to the wall. There had to be a reason for a change in her location, and she felt a shudder run up her spine as a million presented themselves in her head.

All of them very bad.

She swallowed noisily, extending her sense to see if she could get a lock on anything in the vicinity. Nothing but silence greeted her. She didn't know whether to be relieved or worried.

Had they left her here?

Were they just sleeping?

She didn't even know what day it was anymore, didn't know what time it was or even where she was. She remembered that she'd been walking through the cemetery, it had been a quiet night but she'd needed some space to think away from her friends and Angel, and she'd decided to take the long way home.

She had barely stepped foot out of the cemetery when something had hit her hard across the back of her head and the whole world had faded away.

She still hadn't seen who had her, but she knew they were vampires, she could sense it.

A noise in the hall made her whole body tense up.

Her blind eyes moved towards the noise and her senses instinctively reached out to find her captor. Her stomach turned, feeling lighter than air for a second before dropping quickly.

They were coming.

Someone was coming.

She heard the footsteps halt and then the sound of a door opening made her heart leap into her throat. She breathed in sharply, panic racing through her veins as she shuffled, trying to make herself smaller.

He cocked his head to one side and smirked as he regarded her.

She was lying on what used to be their bed, her hands bound to the headboard and her feet tied to the posts at the foot of it. He let his eyes roam slowly over her, weaving their way up from her bare feet, to her long tanned legs and the tiny thing she called a skirt. He subconsciously licked his lips as he looked at the slither of stomach she'd exposed by wriggling and then moved onto the dark red fuzzy sweater she was wearing.

He drew in a shuddering breath as he looked at her face, two strips of white cotton almost hiding it from him, one wrapped tight across her eyes and the other tied around her mouth, her pretty pink lips drawn back by it and her white teeth biting down on it.

His eyes moved swiftly to her hands, strong hands that had almost been his downfall, strong hands that were now at his mercy.

Mercy which was quickly running out, along with the crate of whisky he'd bought.

Bitch.

It was her fault that this had happened, her fault that his beautiful sire was now nothing more than ashes in the wind. He knew she was the reason that Angel had remained in this town, and therefore she was going to pay the price for the death of his love.

He hadn't thought out what he was going to do to her. Death was inevitable, but what he chose to do in the meantime was still up in the air. Since capturing her, he'd only been interested in drinking away his sorrows. It was only now that he was running out of booze and was sobering up that he had remembered her.

He stared at her, watching her quietly squirming on the bed.

He knew that she would have been spouting off witty quips to cover her fear if she could use her mouth, but with it taken out of the equation, she was left to fester in her panic and the smell of it was divine.

He'd never smelt a Slayer so scared.

It was intoxicating.

He chuckled and then grinned as the noise caused her to go still, her body becoming rigid.

Licking his teeth, he ran his eyes down the length of her body and decided that he couldn't blame Angel for having the hots for her. When he'd fought her in the school, she'd been incredible, matching his speed and strength blow for blow. She was unrelenting in her fight, unforgiving.

She was deadly.

Destructive.

Desirable.

Three things that his Drusilla had once been.

Three things that this girl emanated without batting an eyelid.

He smirked and growled low, amusing himself with the way she reacted. He could play for hours with this one.

He'd taken her on impulse. He'd been out to hunt, wanting to take out his grief on any poor, unsuspecting human or demon-he didn't care which. He just wanted a spot of violence to stop the pain inside of him.

That's when he'd stumbled across her, all alone and looking like she could use a little company.

And now she had some.

Him.

Moving silently across the room, he leaned over the bed without touching it and purred softly into her ear.

Buffy held her breath, freezing as she felt his cool breath tickling her neck.

Whoever was holding her knew Slayers, they'd tied her hands and feet up with so much rope that there wasn't a hope in hell of her getting lose without help.

The growling beside her ear grew louder and she let out an involuntary squeak.

Spike grinned.

He pushed away from her and walked to the foot of the bed, leaning against the post and running his fingers down it until he reached the rope that was tied to it.

He grinned as he tugged hard on it, causing Buffy to squeal and shoot down the bed, her arms becoming outstretched as she was pulled toward him.

It sounded like she said a muffled 'ouch'.

He watched her foot rotate as though she was checking it still worked. Another muffled comment tried to escape her lips and he laughed. Even with the gag, she was trying to bitch at him.

His eyes were drawn to her thighs.

By pulling her down the bed, he'd made her skirt hitch up, revealing little white panties to his gaze.

"Really ought to watch who you flash that at, love." He drawled and chuckled as she wriggled back up the bed, her hips moving frantically as she tried to cover herself.

Spike.

Spike had her.

This wasn't good.

Spike, the only vampire since the Master that had almost killed her, had her tied up and at his mercy.

She breathed in sharply as she felt cool fingers brush against her thighs, and felt the soft material of her skirt covering her again.

"Keep that under wraps shall we?" He grinned as her legs shifted slightly, almost forcing more contact between his fingers and her skin.

Buffy felt an odd pang of disappointment when he moved away from her. Guys at school drooled over her. Angel drooled over her. What was so different about Spike? Everyone else wanted a piece of Buffy, and he just wanted to cover her up?

She frowned as she tried to figure out what was going on. She was tied up, gagged and blindfold, unable to stop anything he tried, and he didn't seem at all interested.

She growled against the gag and then mentally chided herself for caring if Spike didn't want her.

But he was a vampire; they were all about sex and blood and everything like that. She'd seen enough of Giles' books to know she was the kind of girl they went for: pretty, innocent and young.

Was she repulsive?

Was it because she was the Slayer?

Spike watched her as she lay perfectly still, a frown knitting her brows. He wondered what she was thinking, what was running through her mind. He could hear her heart pounding against her chest, could sense the fear that was lacing her signature, but she was just laying there as though she was on her bed at home-all safe with nothing to worry about.

His eyes dropped to the tiny skirt again and he rubbed the tips of his fingers together. Her skin had felt soft, warm and insanely tempting. He wanted nothing more than to lick it, sink his teeth into it and drink his fill.

But for some reason he couldn't bring himself to do it.

He growled as he looked at her, watching her thighs rubbing together as she tried to move herself further up the bed.

He needed a drink.

Buffy listened to the door slam.

Something definitely wasn't right.

Buffy wriggled on the bed, moving her head up and down as she tried to get the blindfold off her eyes. Over the course of the day she had managed to get it to shift so it was starting to come off. She worked silently, keeping her senses locked on Spike the whole time. She knew he was in the room, she could hear him and it sounded like he was drinking heavily.

He muttered something and there was a clinking of glass.

She froze.

All she could hear was breathing.

It might have been her own or it could have been his. She couldn't tell but it didn't stop her from continuing to free her eyes.

She gasped quietly as the blindfold slid up, revealing Spike to her eyes.

They widened in shock.

The room was dimly lit; candles were spread around on the side tables, creating a warm glow. He was sitting in a low reclining chair, a bottle of something in one hand and something else in the other.

Something that had her blushing from head to toe.

She knew she shouldn't be watching, but she couldn't take her eyes of him as he leaned his head back into the chair, his hand wrapped tightly around his cock.

Squeezing her thighs together as he moaned quietly, she tried to drag her eyes away again but they ignored her.

He shifted slightly, the chair swinging around and giving her a better view. Her eyes followed the motion of his hand as he slowly stroked his length, his teeth worrying his lower lip the whole time. She bit her own as she watched him, her mouth going dry as her panties became damp. She subconsciously craned her neck to get a better view and then froze as his eyes opened.

They swivelled to look at her.

She blinked, unable to look away as he looked into her eyes and then down at his cock.

Taking a swig from his bottle, he continued to stroke himself and smiled wickedly when her eyes settled back on his length, her tongue poking out to wet her lips.

His smile became a grin.

He'd always been a show off and she looked like she was enjoying the floorshow.

Turning his chair so he was facing her, he watched her cheeks colour deeply as she moved her gaze to rest on the bed. He knew it wouldn't last. Slowly but surely, her eyes crept back to him.

He languidly ran his fingers over his cock, teasing her and himself at the same time. He wanted to say something, wanted to make her blush even deeper but he couldn't think straight. It was the way she was staring at him, so unabashedly but so innocently at the same time.

His eyes dropped to rest on his cock.

She wanted a show, she'd get one.

Sitting up, he placed the bottle down beside him and peeled his t-shirt off. He grinned as her eyes immediately moved to devour what he was showing her, and then let his hand fall to his erection. Lying back in the chair, he slowly stroked himself, keeping his eyes locked on her the whole time. He could smell the scent of her arousal in the air and he let it drive him on, his drink addled brain not caring that he was supposed to be killing her, not giving her a free sex show.

He'd kill her.

But first, he'd have a little fun.

Running his hand down over his stomach, he rolled his balls in his hand while his other one stroked his cock. He frowned and moaned as he wrapped his hand tighter around his length, his rhythm increasing until he was rolling his eyes closed and pressing the back of his head into the chair.

Buffy bit her lip hard as she watched him masturbating, his pale hand gliding over his erection and his moans making her panties wet. She tensed her muscles, wanting the relief that he was clearly enjoying. Her eyes widened as he licked his lips and she followed suit.

She struggled to free her hands as she watched him, watched his thumb as it flicked over the head of his penis and watched the muscles in his neck as they tensed, his whole torso tensing along with them. She found herself panting as his hand moved more frantically, tugging hard on his cock as he arched his back and clenched his jaw, clearly seeking release. She wanted to moan as she watched him squeezing his balls and saw his hips begin to move.

Her eyes became hooded as he moaned and she felt arousal spiral as he jerked his hips up, his cock shooting thick strings of cum onto his stomach.

Spike breathed heavily, giving himself a moment to recover before opening his eyes a fraction. He grinned internally as he saw her staring at his cock, her lips parted and her thighs clenched together.

Cleaning himself up, he tucked his cock back into his jeans and did them up as he walked over to the door. He clicked the lock into place and moved back to the bed.

"Your turn." He said simply and saw her eyes widen in shock. "Fairs fair…you watch me…I watch you."

She frantically shook her head.

Leaning over, he took the blindfold off her and threw it to the end of the bed.

"Didn't say you had a choice."

He grinned and grabbed a long section of rope off the small table beside the bed. Looping it twice around her neck, he tied it off and held onto it tightly as he undid the ropes that were tying her hands to the headboard of the bed.

Spike pulled her up into a sitting position and then tugged on the makeshift lead, forcing her to kneel. He ignored the muffled abuse he received from her and tied each of her wrists separately, and then tied the end of each rope to the two posts at the foot of the bed.

Sitting down in the chair, he smiled approvingly at her. She was kneeling at the foot of the bed, her hands now free to move a certain distance and her throat tightly secured by the rope he was holding onto.

"Well?" He looked at her as she just sat there staring at him. "Don't tell me you're not itching to play."

Buffy rolled her eyes, turning her face away from him. She wasn't going to stoop to his level, wasn't going to play with herself in front of him like he was asking her to.

No matter how much she wanted to.

Spike looked bored.

"You know you want to…so why not just close your eyes, pretend I'm not here, like."

She rolled her eyes again. Like she could just pretend that he wasn't there, wasn't staring at her and waiting for her to make a move. She shifted slightly, the dampness of her underwear making her uncomfortable.

She shouldn't have watched.

It was wrong of her.

But there was something so enthralling about the way he'd openly touched himself, and she knew he was doing it for her, because she was watching.

She swallowed as her pussy throbbed slightly, betraying her arousal.

Spike sat up, leaned towards her and ran his hands up the inside of her thighs.

She should stop him.

He gently parted her knees.

She would stop him.

He coursed his fingers up and brushed against the front of her panties before moving around to her hips and tugging them down to her knees.

She would stop him any moment now.

Her eyes rolled closed as she felt one of his fingers slide in between her pussy lips and brush against her clit.

She'd stop him any second.

Her head fell backwards as he slid the finger toward her opening and nudged it inside.

Oh god, she'd stop him, she really would, just…in a few seconds.

Spike grinned as he pushed his long finger up into her hot, liquid depths and received a restrained moan as a reward.

Pulling it out of her, he waited for her eyes to come to rest on him before licking her juices off it.

Buffy's pussy throbbed again as she watched him.

"Simple as that, pet." He leaned back in his chair and then smiled wickedly. Unbuttoning his jeans, he let his hard cock out and ran his fingers idly over it as he stared at her.

Buffy looked at him defiantly.

If he wanted a show.

He'd damn well get one.

Removing her little skirt, she tried to stop her hands from shaking as she exposed herself to him and then felt a sudden power rise up in her as he hissed out his breath.

She raised her eyes to see his full of fascination.

Gliding her hands down over her stomach, she let one finger dip into her pussy and spread her knees further apart as she sat back on her heels, letting him see her full glory.

She smiled slightly as his cock twitched.

Feeling driven on, she let her finger circle her clit, heightening her arousal. She kept her eyes locked with his as she delved deeper and slid one finger up inside herself, moaning as she clamped her muscles around it.

She struggled against the desire to close her eyes as she slowly pumped herself with her finger. She didn't want to think about how wrong it was that Spike was getting her hotter than anyone had purely by watching her. Pulling her finger out, she brought the slick juices up to her clit and ran her fingers slightly over it, teasing it as she tensed her muscles. She swallowed noisily as she tried to bite her lip, finding the gag stopping her.

It was so wrong of her to get off on being tied up and forced to play with herself. It was so wrong that Spike watching her got her hotter than the idea of Angel ever had. It was the way he looked so absorbed in what she was doing, so full of lust as his eyes followed the achingly slow rhythm of her fingers, there was something about it she couldn't resist.

She was making him look like that.

She had a power over him, one that she had never even considered was in her arsenal.

Spike couldn't stop his mouth from hanging open as she plunged a finger into her core and arched her back. He wanted to climb onto the bed and tear her top off, wanted to see her completely naked and glorious. He wanted her.

And something told him it wasn't the drink talking.

She was enthralling. Her innocence, her beauty, it was beyond anything he'd ever witnessed and it was so alluring when coupled with her power.

He staved off his desire to touch himself as he watched her. She hadn't closed her eyes once since she started, hadn't looked at anything but him. He could almost feel her gaze burning into him as she played with herself.

She knew what she was doing.

She knew what she was doing to him.

Buffy moaned against the gag as she leaned her head back and let her eyes become slightly hooded. Moving her other hand down over her stomach, she teased her clit with it as she continued to fuck herself with her finger.

She couldn't even remember why she was doing this anymore.

Was it defiance, or did she simply want to give herself a reason to give in? It was so easy to say that he had made her do it, that she had no choice. It was so easy to lie.

She moaned louder as she felt herself nearing climax. She'd not done anything like this before, had never felt this horny and this desperate for release. She'd toyed with herself in the shower a couple of times, but had never put her fingers inside herself. His had been the first to do that, the first to show her what it felt like.

Now she knew there was no turning back.

There was only going forward.

She screwed her face up and pushed away from her desire to say his name as she came, the tightness inside her melting away as a calm washed through her body and she slumped on her knees.

Breathing heavily against the restraints, embarrassment swiftly followed her orgasm as she realised what she'd just done and how dirty it was.

She felt her cheeks flush hotly as she closed her eyes. It was so wrong. It felt so right.

Opening her eyes slowly, she was stunned when she saw that she wasn't the only one who had come.

Spike looked down at himself and growled. Catching the amazed look on her face, he suddenly felt as though she'd stolen all power he had away from him. Standing sharply he moved toward her, intent on wiping the look off her face.

The last thing Buffy saw was his fist flying towards her.

He watched her as she slumped into unconsciousness.

He was going to find a way to make her pay for making him come in his pants like a schoolboy.

Bitch.