'Oh fuck, why doesn't she just kill me?'

As he awakens to another horror-filled night, his bleak thoughts fill his tortured mind and he forces his eyes to open and face whatever the night holds.

The stone floor is cold beneath him as he lays curled in a ball, chained to the foot of a bed. The chains are unbreakable. Even when he was at the peak of his strength, he couldn't free himself. Determining that he is alone, he sits slowly, wincing as his muscles scream in pain.

As he tries to make himself comfortable on the unyielding stone, a door opens and a minion enters carrying a squalling infant. The creature smirks and lays the babe at the farthest point the chain will reach.

"Dinner," it laughs.

Spike stares bleakly at the baby as his stomach rumbles and the hunger rises in his throat, threatening to choke him. As he reaches for the crying bundle of flesh and bone and blood, something else dies within him.

*****

His mistress' shrill voice brings him out of his stupor, and her laughter sends a chill down his spine.

"I see we've progressed from rats and cats to brats."

Bitch.

Glory's hand snaps out and catches his chin, dragging him stumbling to his feet.

"Was it tasty?" she asks sweetly.

He spits in her face.

Her blow sends him flying onto the bed where she straddles him and begins to slap him back and forth until his nose breaks, his jaw cracks, and his eyes weep blood.

"Not nice, Spikey," she hisses, licking his blood from her manicured fingernails.

Blinking, trying to see her through the blood in his eyes, Spike laughs weakly and mumbles, "Just anointing you, goddess."

Glory glares down at him, then undulates her hips, rolling her body across his pelvis and abdomen. "We've had this discussion before, slave. You're to be hard and ready for me." Reaching down with one hand, she grabs his limp cock, tugging at it until he cries out in pain. "I could always cut it off and see if it regrows. Should I do that?" When he doesn't answer, she waves her hand and a pair of hedge clippers appear in her palm.

His vision blurred, Spike can still make out what they are, and he hastily shakes his head. "Please, no."

Her lips turn up in a wicked smile. "I love it when you beg, slave." The clippers drop to the bed, and her hand gentles, caressing up and down his cock. "Harden for me, lover...Now."

Closing his eyes, Spike conjures up the image of his true love, and his cock begins to fill with blood and need.

*****

Hours later he lays limp and quiet on the bed, his limbs spread- eagled and chained to the bedposts. His body is covered with new bruises and cuts, some bleeding. His cock is red and useless.

He's sure her inner muscles will rip it off some night.

She's standing before her full length mirror, nude, admiring herself. Turning, she looks over her shoulder at her back, then glances towards Spike. "Is my ass still lopsided, precious?"

Vaguely Spike knows that's supposed to mean something to him, but more and more the memories of that other world, that other life are dimming.

"You're beautiful, mistress," he slurs through swollen lips.

Nodding knowingly, she reaches for a pink feather trimmed peignoir and slips it on. "I know. I'm the only beautiful thing left on this world, since I killed my fellow gods. Well, you used to be beautiful. Now you're just looking a bit used."

As she walks over to the bed, her nose wrinkles. "And you're smelly." With a wave of her hand the chains fall away and a steaming tub of water appears next to the bed. "Bathe," she orders, her eyes sliding down to his groin. "And fix that." Tsking, she walks towards the door. "Really, I thought vampires were like that damn bunny. Just keep going and going."

*****

Clean for the first time in weeks, and left alone for a couple of hours to heal, Spike lets his mind drift. He knows that if he does nothing, he'll be her slave for the rest of eternity.

Or until she tires of him and rips out his heart.

So...he's going to do something.

When Glory enters the room, holding a rose to her nose, he attacks, leaping into the air and aiming for her throat.

With a roll of her eyes, she freezes him there, dangling in mid- air.

"Was *that* the best you can do, Spikey?" Shaking her head, she takes another sniff of the rose, then turns it into a wickedly sharp knife with which she begins the excruciatingly slow process of flaying every inch of skin from his body.

He can't move, but he screams until his vocal chords snap.

*****

A few weeks pass, or at least he thinks they do. Not tied to a human body's need to defecate, urinate, eat and sleep, and fed on a sporadic basis, he's not sure of the passage of time.

His body heals slowly as he remains suspended in the air. Every so often a minion pours blood into his mouth and he manages to swallow most of it.

Not that a few more drops of blood on the floor in the charnel house that is his prison will make any difference.

His new skin is as pale as the old, but feels wrong. Too tight, too unfamiliar.

He wonders if he will ever get used to it.

*****

Finally one night Spike awakens to find himself sprawled on the floor, able to move again. An unwanted whimper breaks from him as he tries to shift an arm out from beneath his stomach. His muscles have atrophied. Bolting down his cries and tears of pain, he forces himself to move, stretching and pulling until he rises to his hands and knees.

A delicate foot clad in a gold sandal appears before him and he cranks his neck up, lifting his eyes to her.

Glory smiles down on him. "Aren't you just all pretty and new." Her hand lands on his head and shoves it back down. "Toes."

Closing his eyes in defeat, he licks his tongue across her painted pink toenails.

*****

"I think I've finally realized why you keep trying to rebel," she says conversationally as her hips rise and fall, driving his cock deeper inside her.

Chained once again on his back to her bed from his latest attempt at escaping the room when a minion's back was turned, Spike glares up at her, silenced by the ball gag painfully stretching his lips.

Glory pats his cheek, then slowly begins to twist his nipples as she continues, "You want to go home, to her, the squishy pink Slayer." Her fingernails dig into his skin and he winces. "I've been there, you know. It's a horrible mess thanks to all the dimensions crashing into each other even for only a few minutes. I doubt the bitch is alive."

Spike thrashes, nearly bucking her off and throwing her off her pace. Snarling at him, she rips his nipples from his chest, and he screams around the gag. His eyes fill with tears of pain and horror as he watches her lift her blood covered fingers to her mouth.

As Glory sucks down the little balls of skin and nerve that were once part of his body, Spike desperately wishes he could vomit.

*****

Spike's been relatively good for a while, not trying to escape, not disobeying her, pleasing her in bed. But, he's been plotting one final attempt to break free. In two more nights Glory is having a fete, and he's hoping that while she's distracted and her minions are busy serving the guests, he can get away.

He doesn't know where he'll go or how he'll get home, but there has to be a way.

If he stays here much longer, he's going to lose his mind.

The door opens and the scent of fresh, human blood reaches him. As his nose twitches, he turns from where he's seated on the floor in the far corner, and watches Glory with impassive eyes as she carries a child's red and navy, plastic bucket towards him.

"I have a present for you, Spikey. You've been such a good boy these last few days." Stopping in front of him, she reaches into the bucket and pulls out a head by the matted hair.

Blood drips from the torn neck, a part of the spine sticks out the bottom, the eyes are pale and rolled up in the skull, the face is drawn in a rictus of agony.

Time stops as Spike stares, trying to comprehend, trying to deny the evidence before his eyes.

Glory swings the head a bit and a chain loosens from where it was imbedded in the flesh of the neck and drops to the floor. With trembling fingers, Spike reaches for it, uncaring that the silver cross burns his skin.

As Glory drops Buffy's head in his lap, Spike starts to scream.

And knows he's never going to stop.

The End