AN: Warning: This chapter should probably be considered NC-17 for fairly graphic rape.

Chapter Six: Captivity

Rupert Giles staggered and then fell to his knees as a hand on the small of his back pushed him hard through a doorway. He tried to catch himself, but his chained hands hindered mobility. He did manage to prevent himself before falling completely flat on his face but it might not have been worth the effort. His left arm still had the crossbow bolt stuck in it and the jarring it took washed waves of pain over his mind. Gritting his teeth and clenching his eyes shut, Giles rode out the pain until it once again became a throbbing ache instead of piercing agony.

Only then did he open his eyes and look about him. The room wasn't very remarkable. Small and square, it held a small pallet on the floor, a wooden table and chair that looked as if they couldn't possibly have made later than the Middle Ages, and a large metal basin that was situated under a water tap and next to a drain in the floor. One small corner of the room was blocked from view by a rollaway screen, obviously intended to provide a scant touch of privacy. Or perhaps it was simply to make the occupant think they had privacy as they attended to the needs of their body. All along the room, at strategic intervals, such as next to the pallet and by the basin that was apparently meant to serve as a tub, were metal rings set firmly into the walls.

Giles swallowed, fearful. This was obviously intended as a long-term prison cell and he was the designated occupant. Then he took a deep breath and set his face into a passive mask. He would not allow his captors the satisfaction of knowing his fear. However, the emotion was justified. Rupert was a young Faerie but he was still a pure-blood member of the Fae. There was a reason he had been sent to the Mortal realm to learn as much as he could about fighting demons. Faeries were often hunted, taken as slaves. The younger the captive the better, but demons would take any they could find. The reason was that, when deprived of their magic by cold iron, Faeries were helpless yet still virtually immortal. They could be made to do a great deal, could be beaten regularly, but they would heal fast and still be there for more tasks, more torment. There was alsobut Giles tried not to think about that reason, even though he knew he would encounter it soon.

The Nathlar strolled a few steps into the room and then turned to Gregory, who was waiting outside the door, a piece of paper in his hand. The blue-skinned demon smiled and took the paper, which Giles could now see was a copy of the prophecy. "I'll find out what he knows about this, I promise you." He moved closer to Giles, who was still on his knees, and grasped the Faerie's chin, holding it painfully at an unnatural angle. Giles fought to keep his face blank. "I'll take a great deal of enjoyment doing so. He's such a pretty little thing."

Gregory nodded, his eyes cold and hard. At that point it was simple to see the demon behind the mundane exterior. Giles felt an inner shiver. These were the two who were in charge of his fate. He was bound with cold iron. He could feel it leeching his magics, locking them away from his touch. Plus, he didn't know where he was. He'd been too busy fleeing to look out the windows and he hadn't been allowed to orient himself at all. He hoped that Buffy would be able to find him, but he wasn't completely certain she could. After all, her strong point was fighting the demons, not finding them.

When Gregory left and had closed the door, leaving Giles and his tormentor alone, the demon's face twisted into a horribly cruel mask, his mouth grinning and his eyes shining with gleeful anticipation. Still holding his new slave by the chin, he tilted Giles' face to look at him. "I'll get what I want, be sure of that, little Faerie. Before I'm done, you'll be screaming all you know to get me to stop." His voice grated and Giles wanted to flinch from the sound of it, but didn't dare.

Grabbing the chain that bound Giles' manacles together, the Nathlar dragged the Watched over to the metal basin. He first dropped the paper onto the small table and then turned the water taps to begin filling tub. He then fastened the middle of the chain to the ring in the wall. There was a special clip on each ring made just for this use. Taking the arrow in his hand, he broke the shaft and pulled it out of Giles' arm. Smiling at the grunt of agony he'd forced from the Watcher, he turned back to Giles and laid a hand softly on his throat, stroking lightly. Giles swallowed deeply as he felt sharp talons barely grazing his vulnerable skin. The Nathlar smiled even wider at his discomfort. "Are you afraid I'll injure you, pretty one? You're right, I will. But first, I want to see you."

He flexed his hand and then moved it slowly down Giles' naked chest to come to rest on the waistband of his trousers. Then, in a move so sudden that Giles couldn't even flinch away, the demon used his talons to tear the remaining clothing off. Giles stood there, his hands locked to the wall, his eyes wide, naked. The Nathlar smirked and all but purred as he looked his prize up and down with a long, lingering stare. "Oh yes, we will have such fun. Get in," he ordered, indicating the makeshift tub with a nod of his head.

Not knowing what else to do or how to resist, Giles complied, climbing into the water gracefully, seemingly unconcerned by his naked state, though that was far from the truth. He sat gingerly, not trusting to the sturdiness of the basin. Sitting down, with his knees bent about halfway, the water reached midway up his chest. His arms were still chained to the wall, so he had to hold them over the side of the tub, quite an awkward position and one that left him vulnerable, which was no doubt the purpose. He held himself stiffly, knowing what would come.

Sure enough, a blue hand clutching a rough washing cloth dipped into the water. After getting the cloth soaked, the demon began to bathe his captive. Giles sat tensely as the cloth was rubbed over his skin, starting with the blood on his arm and then moving to the rets of him. His captor was unnecessarily abrasive and the soft skin quickly began to redden from the abuse. The demon paid special attention to Giles' nipples, making sure they were abraded almost to the point of bleeding, and to his genitals, managing to coax a groan of pain from Giles at the rough handling of that sensitive region.

Just as suddenly as it had began, the crude bath was ended, the Nathlar pulling the cloth away and grabbing Giles' shoulder. "Get out." Silent, Giles obeyed, climbing slowly out of the basin, trying not to splash any water. He sensed that any excuse to punish him would be pounced upon and with the torture he knew he was already facing, he wasn't about to give his captor more reasons to hurt him. The Nathlar tipped the basin and the water swirled into the drain placed on the floor by the wall. Then he unhooked the chain binding Giles to the wall and dragged him over a few feet to the pallet. There he gave a sharp tug that forced the Watcher to his knees and attached the chain to another ring that was only about a foot off the floor. That meant that if Giles laid down, his hands would still be held half a foot above him.

After attaching the chain, the Nathlar grabbed Giles by the shoulders, his talons creating deep scrapes in the skin, and pushed his upper body to the pallet's surface. Giles wasn't strong enough to resist and he was shortly in a painful position, on his knees, his ass raised high, his head against the floor but his hands held stretched above and away from him. The Nathlar began running his hands over Giles' body in what might have been caresses except that he left bloody grooves in his wake. Giles concentrated on holding still, trying not to let himself feel what was happening.

As the Nathlar's sharp claws began playing with his slave's buttocks, he laughed harshly, "It's said that Faeries are quite sensual. That fucking one is better than any other pleasure. Let's find out." Giles couldn't stop a small shudder as the hands suddenly left him and he heard the unmistakable sounds of clothing being removed. He knew of that rumor. It was another reason why Faerie captives, Faerie slaves, were so highly sought among demons. Even some humans, those who knew about the other worlds and their denizens, attempted to catch themselves one of the Fae.

Feeling a hardness pressing against his opening, Giles bit his lip, determined not to cry out. It was so large and hurt so much! Both the pressure and the pain increased as the Nathlar pushed himself steadily into his slave. Finally, with one final thrust, he was buried deeply in Giles' ass, as deep as he could go. He stayed still for a few moments, enjoying the panting coming from beneath him as Giles attempted to accustom himself to the pain. Then he pulled out quickly and thrust back in, starting a hard and punishing rhythm. His hands gripped the Watcher's hips, holding him in place, talons sinking into flesh. Giles could not hold back his moans of pain, but they never became the screams that were threatening to break forth.

His rapist continued to pound into Giles, his sharp talons ripping into his flesh. He leaned forward, his lips right against his victim's ear. "Tell me what we need. Tell me what you know. This can be so much worse. I'll just have to getcreative." Giles shuddered in time with the Nathlar, just as he released his seed deep in Giles' body. He knew the demon was right. It was only going to get worse.