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Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry this took so long but I'm sort of writing around 'trigger times' so it's taking a bit longer.
He crawled up her body slowly, decisively as his fingers dragged across her clothed skin, pressing sharply into the soft flesh as his weight bore down on hers. His bulky body with its wide shoulders trapping her underneath him as he appraised her lean body. The look in his eyes was dark, eyes narrowed, as he took in his prey, trapped with nowhere to run and no one to turn to. She thought vainly of screaming as she looked into his coal black eyes. The emotion she’d found earlier gone and replaced by an uncontrollable hunger as his teeth scraped along her collarbone. For a moment she thought he might leave a mark this time and she almost welcomed it. To have some proof of what he was doing to her on a nightly basis that couldn’t be explained away. A single tear rolled down her cheek as his teeth lifted off her reddened skin and his tongue replaced them, licking along the jutting bone.

“You want it to hurt, don’t you? You want me to make you scream and beg for it. I can give you what those little boys can’t and you crave it, don’t you?” John’s eyes flashed with darkened desire as he tugged her loose-fitting track pants down her legs, exposing the tiny black thong. “You wore this just for me, didn’t you?”

She drew in a shaky breath as she fought the urge to scream or run or do anything else that would only lead to more pain. She had learned her lesson well and simply nodded her head as she glanced over at the clock. 12:47 PM flashed back at her in imposing red. Her mother wouldn’t be home yet from the gallery and she was left, yet again, with this man…no, monster.

She lay with glassy unfocused staring at the ceiling as his hands scaled over her tiny body, tugging at clothing and scratching at flesh until a sharp pain to her side brought her eyes back to his own.

“Glad you’re still with us.” He had the small army knife poised at her side as he fondled her breasts roughly. “I hadn’t thought I’d need this but you just can’t seem to pay attention to anything or anyone by yourself. Guess you learned that from the best, didn’t you? Daddy dearest seemed right enough to pay attention only to himself, leaving your poor mother without a man around the house. It’s time you found out what a real man can do.” His right hand skimmed under her tight black tank as his left inched closer to the zipper on his worn blue jeans.

She whimpered as he weaseled the last remaining clothing away from their bodies and separated her thighs. She tried to fight him off but to no avail. At 6’4, John Gillerti was an intimidating man to say the very least. Two hundred, twenty pounds of heavy muscle and sharp blue eyes made him an attractive man to many but to the girl silently crying under him, it made him a monster.

“You’re nothing but a little whore, aren’t you Elizabeth? My Buffy, my own personal whore. Nothing better, nothing worse and all mine.” With little effort, he sunk into her, ignoring her pain-filled gasp as she struggled uselessly beneath him. “You like this, don’t you? Tell me you like this.” His free hand came up to tighten around her throat slightly as he forced her to nod. The small army knife coming to rest on the side of the bed as he changed his position slightly, driving deeper.

“W-why?” Buffy managed to croak out as she tried to ignored the pain filling her center.

He took a moment to lift his eyes to her and with a slight smirk replaced his lips back on her neck, leaving whisker marks from his goatee as he did so. “Because I can and you deserve it. You’re nothing but a whore Elizabeth, nothing but a whore and it’s about time you find out where you belong…under a man.”

“I-I hate you…”

“No, you don’t. You love me and you know it. You love what I do to you, otherwise you would have called in mommy dearest or one of your little friends. Admit it, you love having a real man fucking you, admit it.” The slight wrinkles in the tanned skin around his eyes crinkled as he looked her dead in the eye, waiting for her response.

“I fucking hate you, you god damned son of bitch!” She struggled for a minute more before she registered that he was laughing at her, a deep rumbling chuckle. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she avoided those deceiving blue eyes that dared her to speak again.

“It’s not nice to speak ill of your elders little girl. Guess I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.” He reached down to her right knee and yanked it upwards, uncaring that she’d torn ligaments only months before ice skating on it.

She yelped in pain as he maneuvered the injured limb past its breaking point and closer to her chest, angling it outwards as he did so.

“Guess you won’t be moving too well tomorrow.” He sneered down at her. “Tell your mother you fell down the stairs, make something up but don’t ever tell Joyce or I will make your life a living hell. Get it?” He applied a bit more pressure until she nodded her consent, tears running down her cheeks.

“Still hate me?”


“Buffy. Buffy! Buffy!” Joyce shook her daughter’s shoulder lightly as she coaxed the screaming girl into awaking. She was unprepared when the fist came striking towards her, lightly grazing her own shoulder as the blonde shot upwards against the headboard, huddling against the thick paneling.

“S-sorry mom…bad dream, I guess.” She shook off the memory that had plagued her sleep as she took in the room around her.

“When did Spike leave?” Her mother’s voice maintained its naturally soft tone but carried a touch of coldness amidst it.

“Sometime this morning I guess. We didn’t do anything, I swear… we just talked…about stuff.”

Joyce shifted closer to her daughter and just watched her for a moment before speaking, “I guess we need to talk. I gathered from your little breakdown yesterday that you’ve been having sex and that you might be pregnant…”

“I-I don’t know.” She hide her face in her arms as she waited for her mother’s next words.

“Those things can be taken care of but I want to know who’s it is. William implied that it wasn’t his…talk to me Buffy, tell me what’s going on…I want to help.” Joyce looked broken as she took in her daughter’s shivering form, wanting nothing more than to gather her into her arms and protect her from the unforgiving world.

Taking a deep breath and staring into her mother’s eyes, Buffy decided to confront her with the truth, “He raped me.”





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