A quiver ran through Spike as he sensed his sire behind him. His muscles tightened even more. He'd been kneeling on the bed for several hours and his knees and thighs ached, and his heels were making permanent indentations in his ass.

The bullwhip was heavy on his shoulder, and even the demon inside him wasn't looking forward to the pain to come.

To submit to his sire was galling to say the least.

Dry mouthed, Angel licked his lips and bared his fangs. The bond tugged at his soul, and the demon howled within him, as centuries of tradition demanded he take the whip and bloody his childe.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and stepped into the room, shoving the door shut behind him.

Head bent, chin touching his chest, Spike bared his neck for his sire to claim him.

Struggling for control, Angel opened his mouth to tell Spike to get up and get dressed, but found himself striding to the bed and lifting the whip from the younger male's shoulder. As his hands caressed the braided leather, his eyes roamed appreciatively over Spike's slender nudity.

All the while his mind screamed that this was unnecessary, that this wasn't the way he did things any more. Yes, he'd use the bond to force Spike to stay away from Buffy, but not to punish him, not to dominate him.

Angel gripped the whip tighter and before he could come to any rational decision, he cracked the leather.

Spike flinched. Even amongst demons there was a big difference between whippings for pleasure and those for punishment.

It has been well over a century since he had suffered the latter.

The demon in Angel relished the sound of the whip as much as the soul cringed. All the blood in his body seemed to rush to his groin. Dominance, pain and sex were all so tightly bound together, and he was losing control.

The rational side of the dark vampire was being smashed down. The demon wanted to whip and fuck and bite his childe until they were both bathed in blood and cum. The angry male wanted to yell and curse and demand Spike never see Buffy again.

Forcing his eyes away from Spike, his mind in turmoil, Angel stared at the lash sliding through his fingers.

Spike panted, a soft exhalation of breath, as he waited...and waited. The waiting was always the worst part of the punishment, and as he knelt there, Spike went through the decisions that had led him to his sire's bed.

Hiding from his sire would only have labeled him a coward and seriously undermined his plans to rule Sunnydale again. They could fight, but deep inside himself Spike knew that Angel was bigger and stronger, and rage only made him fight harder.

Spike wasn't ready to die, not even for an enticing blonde who featured prominently in all his dreams and most of his thoughts.

This was the third option. Submission. He hated it. He had hated it as a fledgling and he really hated it as a master vampire. He had never had it in him to enjoy being dominated outside of the occasional sex game.

This wasn't a game. To submit to his sire at this time was the only way to survive and keep his status. It would show the other vampires in town that he believed in the most basic and powerful traditions, and it would keep him alive to fight another day.

His mind made up, Spike had turned towards the mansion. He would submit himself for punishment for bedding his sire's chosen mate. Angel would dominate and whip him, maybe even fuck him, and everything would go back to an even keel.

The bond would be strengthened between them, but time would weaken it again--time and Angel's soul.

Spike didn't allow himself to think about Buffy. He just wanted to get through this, then he'd deal with his relationship with the Slayer. The overly optimistic side of himself hoped that Angel would get so wrapped up in dominating his childe, he'd forget about finding Spike with Buffy.

Angel's voice brought Spike back from his deep thoughts. "Get up, Spike."

Eyes widening slightly, Spike obeyed, starting to slip from the bed.

"Get dressed."

Spike froze, then turned on his knees to face his sire. "No."

Angel's eyes widened in shocked anger at his childe's denial of his wishes. The demon inside him screamed at him to take the whip and beat Spike into submission, but Angel silently fought for control, his hand clenching around the handle of the whip. "I'm not doing this."

"You have to." Spike rose to his feet, his jaw clenched determinedly. "I trespassed. You dominate me. And everything's hunky dorey."

Angel simply gaped.

"Well, fine, I'll just go find the Slayer, shall I?" Spike sneered.

"Leave her alone," the older male growled, his fury returning.

"It's either this or we fight, and I'll take her from you legitimately."

The fist with the whip handle in it cracked across Spike's jaw, sending him flying to the floor, his lip split and bleeding.

"Bastahd," he lisped angrily, spitting blood as he pushed himself back to his knees.

The scent of the familiar, powerful blood was all it took. Angel's demon slipped from his control, and the whip lashed around Spike's shoulders. Groaning, the younger male fell forward onto his hands and knees, and the whip cracked across his buttocks.

Closing his eyes, Spike let the pain wash over him, and he endured the vicious beating in silence. After a dozen blows, he slipped to his stomach, only to be jerked to his feet and flung over the end of the bed. The thicker part of the whip caused wider and deeper slashes in his back, as the tip flicked brutally around to his ribs and thighs.

All Angel saw was a red haze. The aroma of spilling blood filled his head and made him dizzy. His arm rose and fell on automatic, varying the lash marks from shoulders to thighs. The demon growled and crowed, savoring the cuts forming on the younger male's pale and shivering body, wallowing in the pleasure of dominating a childe for the first time in one hundred years.

And he was hard as stone, aroused by the sight of Spike laying submissive beneath the lash, his body jerking in pain from each blow. The blond's face was pressed into the mattress, his fingers digging into the blankets to hold himself down.

Angel knew how hard it was for his boy to submit.

That he was doing so, even begging for it, only gave the demon more strength.

A few hours earlier, over hot chocolate and in very halting, embarrassed terms, Buffy spilled the events of the evening to her sympathetic mother. Joyce sighed and nodded and encouraged at all the right moments, while her heart thumped heavily in her breast.

Her baby was all grown up.

And sleeping with a demon.

Buffy only touched very lightly on the actual details, for which Joyce would be eternally grateful--she was still traumatized by the sight of Buffy and Spike naked in the bed upstairs--but Joyce was able to grasp that Angel had found Buffy with Spike in the middle of things. And, that Angel had dragged her home like a truant child.

Joyce wasn't surprised by Angel's reaction. To her, he had always seemed so much older, so much more mature than her teenage daughter. Their relationship had always bothered Joyce partly for those reasons. Although their love for each other was unquestionable, there was still something very...off about them being together.

Maybe it was just that Buffy was so young and vibrant and carefree, and Angel was just the opposite.

Shaking her head slightly, Joyce set down her cup and reached out to stroke her daughter's trembling hand. "You're angry at Angel for treating you like a child, and you're angry at yourself for not telling him the truth before this, and you're angry at yourself for getting caught in such a compromising position, right?"

Buffy reddened even more and dropped her eyes to her mug, mumbling, "I should have told him."

"Although, I do see your point in that you're not dating him anymore, so he shouldn't have any say over what you do."

"It's...more complicated than that."

"Because of the vampire thing."

Buffy's shoulders slumped more as she nodded heavily. "Spike's Angel's childe. Angel wanted me to get a human boyfriend, have a normal life, not turn to another vampire."

"Angel's wants shouldn't count over yours, Buffy."

"I know. I told him that. I..." Tears forming in her eyes and throat made her swallow hard again. "I still love him, mom, and he still loves me. Why did he have to decide it was over? What gave him the right to make all the decisions?"

As her daughter started sobbing again, Joyce felt her heart break even more.

"He'll never accept Spike being with me," Buffy sobbed bitterly as she tried to bring herself back under control. "And...I think he can make Spike go away or leave me alone."

Joyce frowned. "How?"

"The sire-childe bond. In the vampire world I think I belong to Angel, and he has the right to deny any other vampires' attempts to claim me."

"That's barbaric!"

Buffy shrugged unhappily and reached for the kleenex.

Finally the insane fury began to drain from Angel and he slowed the rain of blows. Slumping tiredly against the bedpost, he dropped the bloody whip to the floor and closed his eyes, breathing hard. The scent of blood kept the demon to the fore, but it was partially sated by the violence and domination of Spike.

Swallowing hard, Angel forced himself to open his eyes and look at the damage to his childe. As he did so, his soul cringed and his demon chuckled in glee.

Spike's back was a gory mess and blood ran from countless lash marks, soaking into the bedding. The blond was still conscious, his face pressed into the covers to keep from crying out as his body quivered in agony.

Helplessly drawn to the rich, powerful blood, Angel slowly swept one finger down Spike's spine, then raised it to his lips to suckle the red ichor. His croon of pleasure was halted instantly by the almost inaudible whimper from his childe.

It was the whimper of a hurt wolf cub left behind to die by its dam.

Angel's demon fled as pure sympathy and sorrow overwhelmed it.

"Oh God," he whispered, horrified by what he'd done. He was still furious by Spike's presumption and sickened by the thought of Spike and Buffy having sex, but his childe hadn't deserved this. Guilt made his shoulders slump and he sank down onto the end of the bed, burying his face in his hands.

Gradually Spike realized the whipping had stopped. He lay still, letting the agony wash over him in wave after wave of white heat. Gritting his teeth, he bit back instinctive cries, forcing himself to calm down and accept the pain. Weakness assailed him, and he shifted his head slightly. The scent of his own blood filled his nostrils and he whimpered uncontrollably, as he felt the life-giving liquid oozing from his wounds.

As he came back to himself and took control of the pain, Spike also smelled his sire's arousal. His stomach clenched sickeningly. It had been a long, long time since he had willingly submitted to Angel's desires.

Actually, he was quite surprised that he hadn't been fucked as soon as the beating had ended, but instead Angel was sitting next to him, panting slightly from exertion and lust.

Of course, lying there, taking it up the ass, wasn't truly being submissive.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Spike pushed himself backwards, grinding his teeth together as fresh pain rocketed through him. With one hard shove, he slid from the bed onto his knees and grabbed helplessly for his sire's thigh to keep him upright.

Angel gaped down at Spike, uncomprehending. If possible, his childe's face was even paler than normal, and the strain and agony was evident, but so was determination.

If Angel's mind couldn't grasp what the younger male was up to, his body could and his cock throbbed angrily behind the confining zipper.

Clinging to his sire's thigh with one hand, Spike reached out with the other one for the bulge between the older male's legs.

All talked out, and still an emotional wreck hours later, Buffy sat at the window in her darkened bedroom, staring blindly across the street and waiting for the sun to rise. She felt heartsick over Angel and scared for Spike. Had Angel found him? Had they fought? Was...was maybe one of them dust at the moment?

A tremor ran through her and she hugged herself tightly. She was sickened that Angel had found her with Spike. Sickened that she hadn't found the courage weeks ago to tell her former lover that she'd moved on. Sickened that Angel could make her feel like a child.

And sickened that she finally realized that she cared for the annoying blond vampire. She'd fought the feelings for weeks, but they were undeniable.

She just couldn't sit there and wait to be told what had happened and what *would* happen next in her life. Angel might be Spike's sire, and might be able to tell him what to do, but he had no say over her own future.

And whether that future was with Spike, Angel or someone else, it was Buffy's to create.

Emboldened, Buffy exchanged her nightgown for a pair of worn jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, then crept out the window and went looking for Spike. She had to see if he was all right, then she'd confront Angel.

She just prayed that Angel hadn't found Spike first.

---

Angel gaped as Spike's trembling yet nimble fingers unfastened his pants and released his straining cock. Excitement, pleasure and shock exploded within him as the blond vampire lowered his head and sucked the mushroom shaped tip into his mouth.

Angel's instinctive reaction was to shove Spike away. The younger male fell heavily onto his side, softly crying out as fresh pain lanced through him.

"What are you doing?" the older male barked, embarrassed and aroused and totally confused.

Sensing anger in his sire's voice, and addled by the pain, Spike grew instantly confused. He felt like he was once again a fledgling, trying to figure out how to please the male who meant everything to him. He tried to rise to his hands and knees, but his strength gave out.

Horror filled Angel as he realized what Spike was trying to do. "Stay still," he stammered out, and watched his childe freeze in place, every muscle trembling from effort.

Stuffing his erection back into his pants and carefully zipping them shut, Angel tried to will away his desire, as he forced himself to move. Rising, he quickly stripped the heavy comforter and sheet from the bed, glad to see that the blood had been absorbed by them. Dumping them in the hallway, he went to the bathroom for a couple of large towels, then spread them on the bed.

His mind was churning, but he forced himself to concentrate on these simple tasks. In doing so, his cock begin to shrink, but as soon as he turned back to his bleeding, submissive childe, his desire returned full force. Cursing under his breath, Angel went down on one knee and hooked his forearms under Spike's arms.

The younger male let out a long, painful groan as his sire helped him to his feet and over to the bed.

As Spike lay flat on his stomach on the towels, he spread his legs slightly and tried to pull himself up onto his knees.

"Stop that," Angel growled as his demon, still too near the surface, howled in lust. "I'm not taking you."

Confused, but obedient, Spike collapsed weakly and closed his eyes. His mind quickly drifted away from the pain.

Angel sat down on the bed, his back to his childe, and waited for his desire to fade as he fought to stay in control. He could tell when the bleeding stopped and the healing began.

And when Spike slipped into unconsciousness, which in turn finally drove Angel's demon into full retreat.

Frowning at his still semi-erect cock, Angel rose to fetch some water and cloths to bathe the blood away. As he turned towards the bathroom, the door to the hallway opened and Buffy barreled into the room.

---

Spike wasn't in the cemetery, he wasn't at Willie's, the Bronze was closed, and she had no clue where his lair was. Hoping that Angel hadn't found him, Buffy headed for the mansion. Logically she knew that it was not a good time to confront her former lover, but logic had nothing to do with the pain and fear in her heart.

The lower level was dark and quiet and she quickly headed up the stairs to Angel's room. As she climbed, she remembered the last time she had been in that room.

She had found him with Spike, naked in the big bed.

Shaking off her memories, Buffy hoped that Angel hadn't found Spike anywhere this time, and that they could have a rational discussion. Sometimes catching the dark vampire at dawn when his mind was growing fuzzy was the best time to get him to see things her way.

He had to see things her way. It was time he stopped making any of the decisions in her life.

Shoving open the door to the bedroom, Buffy strode inside.

And stopped stock still in her tracks, shocked beyond belief.

Her eyes widened in horror and went from the pale, bloody mess of her lover, to Angel who stood only a few feet from her, anger and pain vivid on his usually expressionless face, an obvious bulge in the front of his pants that couldn't have been caused by her.

"No," she whispered helplessly, terror screaming through her. "You can't have done this. You can't have."

"Buffy..."

Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her pale cheeks as the scent of blood, the scent of pain and fear overwhelmed her. Suddenly furious, she flung herself at Angel, knocking him to the floor with a right hook.

"Bastard!"

 

The End

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