The Existence: Surviving

I wonder vaguely if sperm can fill an empty, hungry stomach, then smile as the fourth minion grunts and thrusts down Xander's throat as he comes. He bows as he backs up, pulling his pants up. I ignore him and look down at the boy slumped in exhaustion against the side of my throne. For at least the hundredth time in the past two weeks I wonder what the Hell he's doing there.

"One more," I say, harsh delight in my voice. He glances up and looks at the empty room, then turns his head back and sees my hard on straining against my tight leather pants. Watching him suck cock always makes me hard. He does it so well, with such...acceptance.

Acceptance...it's what I love best about breaking a slave, that moment when they finally accept that this is their lot in life. Surprisingly, Xander reached that point before even coming to me. But, that doesn't lessen my pleasure; it just makes it more exciting in a strange way.

He crawls in front of me, slipping between my spread legs, and I watch in amusement as he absently rubs his cheeks, trying to alleviate the ache of too many cocks stretching his mouth. Then he reaches forward and carefully unbuttons my pants. My cock springs free, hard and red with borrowed blood. Xander lowers his head and sucks the tip into his mouth. I feel his tongue lash weakly at the underside and growl.

"You can do better than that, boy."

His tongue moves faster, harder, and I watch in delight as he squeezes his eyes shut, blocking tears, I imagine. Setting the goblet aside, I twine my fingers into his shaggy hair and thrust my hips up, driving my cock down his tight throat. He gags and gasps, choking on the hard flesh. I hold it there for a good twenty seconds, watching his eyes fly open in panic, feeling his head trying to pull back as his fingers dig into my knees.

Finally, I slide back and free. Xander collapses, his head on my legs, panting harshly.

"Pathetic," I scold in a cold, mocking voice. "After all this time and all these cocks, you still can't take it down your throat without choking."

"I'm sorry, master," he whispers. "I'll do better." His mouth and nose nuzzle against the base of my cock and I feel his tongue dart out and lick my heavy balls.

But, I don't want that any more and I pull his head up and slap him across the face, as I let go. He collapses onto his side, panting hoarsely and I watch the pain shudder through him. As I rise to my feet, I kick him onto his back, then wrap my foot around the chain connecting his cock to the throne.

I pull and he moans, making me laugh, as he scoots closer to the throne to keep his cock from being ripped open. Dropping to my knees, I force his legs to spread wider than they want to go, then roll his hips.

"If you're going to act like a pathetic girl, I'm going to treat you like one." Tugging him towards me until his ass is in the position I want it, I rub my cock against his bruised flesh, then guide the tip to his hole.

I see him give me a startled look. I've never fucked him like a girl, on his back, legs spread. It's more...intimate...and thus, humiliating. I watch his face redden, his eyes slide away as his head rolls on the floor, and I slam my cock home.

Xander grunts softly with the impact. His ass has loosened up nicely from daily fuckings and from a week of days wearing a thick butt plug, but there will always be slight resistance. It doesn't help that I never use lube.

Of course, what would be the point in that?

As I begin to fuck, I lean forward, pressing his legs back towards his shoulders with my body. "Unbutton my shirt; caress my nipples," I growl harshly as my hips pump at a quick, yet easy pace. I want to make this last...

Not looking at me, Xander obeys, his fingers fumbling slightly with the buttons. Once open, he pushes the shirt aside and runs his fingers over my nipples, making me hiss with pleasure as he lightly pinches them.

I thrust harder, smacking our pelvises together and making him moan again. His ass muscles squeeze my cock, trying to resist as I fill him again and again. I feel his cock stir against my stomach and grin.

He hates it when I make him hard while fucking him. It's the worst humiliation. Increasing the pace of my thrusts, I feel my balls begin to tighten and lust pound through me. Leaning down, I morph and slide my fangs easily into his shoulder, drinking lazily on his sluggish blood.

Xander's hands fall away from me and he whimpers deep in his throat. Regardless of the stories and movies about vampires, being bitten, having your blood drawn, hurts. He doesn't like it, but he never tries to stop me. A part of me wonders if he hopes that someday I won't stop.

I have no plan on taking it that far any time soon. He's just too damn fun to humiliate.

Pulling my cock free, I grab one of his hands and wrap it around the base, then place his other hand on his own cock which is half erect. He circles it, glancing at me uneasily. I don't need to tell him what to do. He begins to pump, his hands sliding up over the weeping tips, then back to the base, careful to avoid the ring on his cock.

I watch him quickly reach erection. He is, after all, regardless of all the abuse, still a teenage boy, nearly at his sexual peak, and it doesn't take much to arouse him...and he hates it. I know full well that Xander would prefer it if he never got hard again.

His hips begin to bounce on the hard floor, his fingers tighten. Watching his face turn florid, I grin in pleasure and fling my head back, thrusting into his fist. We come together, him with a soft, sad cry, me with a howl of bliss. As his hands fall away and his gasping fills my ears, I glance down and see the streams of white semen covering his stomach and hands.

Gracefully I rise to my feet and pull my pants up, fastening them over my slowly dwindling cock. It won't take much to get it hard again and it's been three nights since I fucked Drusilla. I know she's been using Xander's mouth, though she hasn't fucked him yet. I never really gave her permission to do either--although I would--which gives me a weak excuse, but still an excuse, to beat the shit out of her and fuck her till dawn.

One of her favorite pastimes.

Glancing down, I see Xander's on his knees again, his head drooping, his hands clenched into fists on his thighs. I can almost feel his hunger as a palpable thing. Even though he did well and obeyed me, I never promised him food.

But, I choose to be merciful. "There's a pizza in the kitchen."

Xander gives me a hesitant yet grateful look and I unhook the chain from the throne. With my head, I gesture that he can go, and I watch his ass wiggle as he crawls towards the kitchen. Having no desire to watch him cram cold pizza and warm sugary pop down his throat, I don't follow.

I know he won't try to go anywhere.

There's no place for him to go.

*****

As I crawl towards the kitchen, my stomach rumbling with the thought of pizza, my ass throbbing dully, semen drying on my stomach, I try to empty my mind. It's so much easier to survive if I don't think. But, my mind refuses to stop whirling.

I find it very interesting that even when I know I'm out of his sight, I don't try to stand up. The only times I stand anymore are when I'm showering, pissing or placing myself over some object . I'm still a little surprised that Angelus got down on his knees to fuck me.

I can feel myself flushing as my mind plays the images of him fucking me like a girl. It's humiliating. I'm not quite sure why, but it is, much more so than when he takes me from behind.

Maybe because I could see the pleasure he got from it. I tried not to look at him, tried not to watch. If I didn't look, it wasn't really happening, right?

I laugh harshly, my throat unused to the sound, and I crawl into the kitchen. Immediately, I smell the blood and my stomach turns, but not enough to keep me from eating. Not like the first few days when I hadn't been able to keep anything down after seeing the corpses piled in the large dumpster and hanging from the hooks in the ceiling.

Now, I just avoid that part of the kitchen, the part with the drain in the floor to catch any dripping blood...not that there ever is much of that. Opening the fridge, I pull out a pizza box and a bottle of coke. Carefully sitting against the cabinets, wincing as my sore ass makes contact with the floor, I open the box and nearly groan in pleasure.

Pepperoni and extra cheese. Picking up a slice, I try to eat slowly, but I'm so hungry. Before I know it, half the cold pizza is gone along with nearly all the coke. The pain in my stomach begins to lessen and I finish the food at a slower pace.

Earlier, I tried to save food, not knowing how often I'd be fed, but Angelus took a perverse delight in throwing any uneaten food out, so now I eat it all, and hope that it will last for a while.

The caffeine in the coke gives me a bit of energy, boosting my blood sugar level, always low, but even lower after he bites me.

I can't control the shiver that runs through me as I remember the first time he bit me, how much it hurt, how frightened I was that he would either kill me or turn me. Not knowing which fear was worse. There was nothing ecstatic about the bite, at least not for me. Whether it made Angelus come or he just chose to at that moment, since he was fucking me, I don't know.

For me, it just hurt.

As I finish the coke, my free hand goes to my sore shoulder and I wince as I feel the two puncture marks. Glancing at my other shoulder, I realize I now have a matching set, like epaulets on a uniform.

That's not quite as funny as it sounds.

There are no mirrors in the mansion--which isn't really surprising, although I've never understood why vampires don't have reflections; seems kind of arbitrary to me--so I don't know what I look like, what a slave looks like. I can tell I'm thinner-- not a surprise there, either. There are shadowy bruises on my ribs and stomach, abrasions around my wrists from the ropes that had bound me last night. I never did figure out why he tied me.

I've never fought him or tried to stop him from doing anything to me. I've never tried to get away.

I guess he gets off on causing me pain of any kind.

Looking down, I see the inflammation around the ring in my cock has finally subsided. It's still a little sore, but not burning any more. I've never understood why people pierced their eyebrows or nipples or belly button. I had no clue that people actually pierced their cocks.

But, I guess there are a lot of masochistic people in the world.

Never really thought that I was one of them...

*****

I failed. I failed in the worst way possible. I failed my friend. I don't know if Xander's dead, alive or something in between. I can't find him and I can't find Angel. The vampires I catch seem to know nothing or Angel's turning better liars these days.

Giles finally sent us all home tonight, ordering us to sleep, but I can't. I'm just waiting for my mom to go to bed, then I'm out of here. I'll patrol all twelve cemeteries, search every empty warehouse and factory all over again.

I have to find him. I have to know what happened.

The image of Xander being dumped naked on my lawn by Angel, a pair of my panties on his hair soaked with cum fills my mind again. I can't get rid of that image. It's stuck in my mind, like that useless Algebra formula that refuses to go away even though I'll never need it since I plan never to take math again.

I was torn between helping my unconscious friend, or attacking my former boyfriend. Laughing, Angel disappeared in that annoying way he does, removing my option. So, I dropped to my knees and whimpered at the sight of whip marks on Xander's back and...

I had always done a really good job of denying the things Angelus might have done in the past, the kind of demon he was. I couldn't deny anymore and it was no longer in the past.

He raped my friend.

And a part of me--a sick part of me--was glad he hadn't raped me.

I don't know how Xander survived it. I know how brutal a fighter Angel can be, I can only imagine how brutal a rapist. With vampiric strength and endurance...

I feel the tears leaking out of my eyes and brush them away. They're useless and they don't ever make me feel better.

And I always end up wondering who I'm crying for--Xander...or me?

I have to find him...

End Chapter 2