Chapter One – The First Night

The pickings were slim again tonight and William sighed as he choked down the stale piece of hard-crusted bread he'd found. Looked like he was going to go to sleep hungry for the third night in a row. You'd think the selection would be a bit more robust, considering the expensive restaurants in this part of town, but the evil sods made sure to ruin any leftovers with bleach before they threw them out. Heaven forbid someone sampled their fine cuisine without forking over a pocketful of dosh for the privilege. He kicked the dumpster in frustration and started plodding down the alley, running through his list of safe sleeping places, trying to choose the best one based on how far it was from his current location. He landed on the broken-down garden shed behind the abandoned Crawford Street church and started in that direction. It would be a bit of a walk, moving away from the business district and into residential, and it would be full dark before he reached it, but it was the safest place he could think of on this side of town.

He kept his head down as he made his way out of the alley and onto the street, taking care not to look at the people heading out for a nice dinner, a night at the theatre, or a spot of shopping at the upscale boutiques that dotted the avenue. He'd had enough of their looks of disgust to last him a lifetime as they took in his ragged clothing, tangled unwashed hair, and unkempt beard.

Several streets later, he rounded the corner onto Crawford Street and heard several people laughing and talking loudly. He dared a glance, raising his eyes from the sidewalk in front of his scuffed and held together with duct tape boots to see a beautiful dark-haired woman surrounded by a circle of well-dressed men. She was smiling and laughing as she lightly touched several of the men on the arm then motioned across the street. She looked to be indicating that they should follow her to the old Crawford Street Mansion.

William walked slowly toward the group, keeping as close to the building as he could, trying not to be noticed. He had to stop suddenly and back up a few steps when one of the men, laughing boisterously, lightly shoved another man, causing him to stumble backwards into the wall of the old church. William froze; waiting for the shoved man to step forward into the crowd again so he could squeak by behind him.

When the man finally moved out of the way, William scurried past and ducked through the hole in the churchyard fence. He slid to the side and turned to peek back out at the street. The dark-haired woman had started walking toward the mansion on the other side of the street. William looked up at the mansion, set far back on its wide expanse of lawn, and was surprised to see light coming from nearly every window. It had been as abandoned as the church the last time he'd been here, with the windows boarded up and a chain wound through the front door handles, barring entry to anyone not keen to scale the building to one of the second-floor balconies. He hadn't been here in a long time, though, mostly keeping to the other side of town, but he'd decided to try his luck in the 'rich' part of town. Fat lot of good it had done him. Two weeks of scavenging through dumpsters had only yielded enough decent food to barely keep him from starving to death. He'd decided to head back across town tomorrow, and even though he had to be careful to avoid a few blokes over there, it was still easier to find something to eat. He'd discovered that poor people were far more generous with the little they had.

The group walked up the wide, curving drive and disappeared through the front door. The dark-haired woman stood on the threshold looking out at the street for a few seconds, and William could have sworn she was staring right at him. He ducked further back into the shadows and looked up at the mansion again. The woman was still standing in the doorway, staring across the street. Another woman joined her in the doorway, this one small and blonde, and the dark-haired woman pointed at the hole in the churchyard fence. The blonde woman looked over and smiled then walked down the front steps and started across the lawn toward where William was hiding.

William thought about pulling a runner, although three days' worth of nearly empty stomach wouldn't let him run far, then decided against it. What was the worst that could happen? She'd likely just run him off, telling him to go find somewhere else to sleep, and that would be the end of it. He'd circle the block and enter the churchyard from the back instead, then slip into the shed to bed down. She'd never even know he was there. And maybe he'd sneak around the back of the mansion just before dawn to see if there were any treasures in the bins. If there were enough people in the mansion to have nearly every light on, they'd have to have a pile of food, right? And they'd likely throw some of it out, which meant he'd have a full stomach for the first time in weeks. Facing the small, blonde woman currently striding toward him seemed to be worth the risk, so he stepped out through the hole in the fence and stood waiting for her on the sidewalk.

She stopped about ten feet from him, smiling in a contemplative fashion as she scanned him from head to toe. William hitched up his ragged backpack as he said quietly, "I'll go, Miss. Don't want to be a bother. You have a nice evening." He turned to walk away and was surprised by her hand on his arm. He turned back to find her standing right in front of him. How had she moved so fast? And with no sound at all?

"You don't have to go. In fact, I came to invite you into the house. You look hungry and we have more food than we know what to do with."

She smiled wider, and was there something wrong with her teeth? They seemed to be whiter than they should be, especially in the dark of the evening with the light from the mansion behind her, and were two of them slightly… longer? And what was going on with her eyes? They were so… deep… and swirling with…

It took some effort to tear his gaze from hers, but William managed it then shook his head and stammered, "Oh, I couldn't impose, Miss. 'Sides, don't feel I'd fit in with the other gentlemen." He gestured vaguely at himself. "They're quite a bit more posh than I am."

She laughed and William's gaze locked with hers again. He found himself unable to blink as she said, "I bet you clean up good." She reached out to take William's hand and started walking backwards, tugging him toward the mansion as she kept her gaze locked with his. "Let's go find out."

She turned and William followed along behind her, wondering at his complete lack of resistance. He was sure he'd turned her down and tried to politely excuse himself, yet, here he was, halfway across the lawn, her small hand gripping his firmly, yet somehow gently. He wasn't certain he could have broken her grip on his hand even if he'd wanted to.

They stepped through the front door and the woman stopped, turning to face him. "Wait here for a minute and then I'll get you cleaned up and fed." He nodded and stood quietly as she walked into the parlor, his gaze following her as she walked over to the dark-haired woman.

Faith nodded at the ragged boy standing by the front door. "What do you think, B?"

Buffy shrugged. "Too small to put downstairs with the other food. Don't think he'd make even one good meal. I'd need a snack after."

"Didn't point him out for that." She motioned to the other occupants of the room. "We've got plenty to eat here, but it's obvious nobody will notice if he goes missing, so I was thinking another thrall to help the boys."

Buffy nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's an idea." She turned slightly so she was almost facing William as he looked over at her. "I guess I'll decide what to do with him after I get him cleaned up and get a good look at him. Can't even really tell how old he is with all that hair and the beard. Pretty eyes, though. He's English, too, and his accent is just…"

"You gonna try him out?"

Buffy threw her a look that clearly said, 'Duh,' then smirked and waved a hand at him. "If he's as big as that bulge says he is, and he has even one clue about how to use it, then I might just keep him chained to my bed."

Faith nodded at the front door again. "He's about to jet out of here."

William watched the two women converse. They were clearly talking about him, if all the looks and gesturing in his direction were any indication, and he wondered what they were saying. One of the other women suddenly laughed loudly, drawing his attention, and William scanned the rest of the room, his eyes widening at what he saw. The parlor was full of people, mostly men gathered in small groups around several scantily clad women. Each woman had at least four men around her, and William suddenly realized where he was – a house of ill repute, a bawdy house... a brothel.

He turned and started to take a step, intending to scoot through the front door and out into the night, when the blonde woman's hand landed on his arm again. "Where are you going?"

William turned and gawped at the woman, certain she'd been on the other side of the parlor when he'd turned to go. She'd still been talking to the dark-haired woman, but now both of them were standing in front of him, their lips curled in small smiles. The blonde nodded her head toward the stairs, her gaze locked with William's, and said, "Let's get you cleaned up so I can get a look at you. All of you." William shivered slightly as he gazed into the swirling depths of her eyes, and almost missed it when she continued, "You and the girls can handle the rest, right?"

The brunette laughed quietly and nodded. "Five by five, B. You have fun."

The blonde led him up the stairs, grasping his hand in that firm yet gentle way, and introduced herself as they reached the top of the stairs. "My name's Buffy. What's yours?"

"It's William, Miss."

"William. Hmmm. William. I like the way that sounds."

William wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he didn't; he just kept following along behind her as she turned left at the top of the stairs and led him past several rooms. She opened the door to the room in the corner before the balcony turned left again and pulled him into the dark, leading him to what he guessed was the middle before letting go of his hand. He couldn't hear her as she moved away, but a light came on a few seconds later, dimly illuminating the room and revealing a large four-poster bed. The bedding was a deep red silk and the covers had been pulled back in readiness for someone to climb into it. It looked immensely comfortable, and William longed to stretch out in it, feeling his body relax into a restful sleep for the first time in ages. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep in over a year because one had to be always aware of one's surroundings, lest they be jumped and robbed... or worse. He'd experienced the worse, and since the night he'd been assaulted by three other homeless men, he hadn't let himself fall into a deep sleep because he didn't want it to happen again.

He was haggard, ragged, and filthy, and he was sure he smelled bad, but Buffy didn't seem to notice – or she was too polite to mention it – as she walked back over to him and took his hand again. She tugged him toward a door on the other side of the room as she said quietly, "Let's get you cleaned up, my William."

A shiver ran down William's spine at the possessiveness in her voice. He wasn't sure if it was a shiver of fear or of… longing.

The bathroom was the largest one he'd ever been in, and he stared at the fixtures and the intricate design worked into the tiles on the wall. There was a large garden tub in one corner, but Buffy led him toward the walk-in shower then let go of his hand and reached up to slide the straps of his backpack off his shoulders. William let them fall down his arms and away and she set the backpack against the wall with all the care of someone handling expensive luggage. She removed the ratty sweater he wore then his t-shirt, tossing them to the floor next to his backpack. She dropped to one knee in front of him and tapped his lower leg, indicating he should lift his foot. He did, and she slid his boot off then peeled his holey, smelly sock off after it. She repeated the process with the other boot, setting them next to the backpack with the socks tucked inside, then stood up. He stood barefoot and naked from the waist up and he suddenly realized what article of clothing she was going to remove next, simultaneously terrified at the thought and placidly accepting of it.

He hadn't been starkers in front of anyone since he was old enough to start bathing on his own, and he'd never even kissed a girl, much less been naked with one. He somehow felt he should object to her assistance with his clothing removal and insist that he could handle it by himself, but instead he stood quietly while she unbuckled his belt and then unzipped his jeans.

The jeans slid down his legs until the buckle clattered against the tile and Buffy knelt in front of him again, prompting him to lift his feet to fully remove the garment. She slid them across the floor to rest beside the boots then stood back up. "Commando. Wouldn't have guessed, but I like it." She leaned close, reaching out to lightly stroke her fingertips across his chest and belly, and whispered against his ear, "I'm not wearing any underwear, either."

William shuddered and blushed a deep crimson as that part of him with a mind of its own stirred and started to rise. He looked down in horror as Buffy chuckled quietly, "Well, hello William." She backed up a step, looking at him appraisingly, and said, "Shower, not a grower. I really like that." She slid her hand down his belly and lightly gripped him, giving him a few quick strokes before she let go and stepped into the shower to turn the water on. "Come here, my William."

That possessive tone again sent a shiver down William's back. He was starting to think he liked it, and he wondered what it would be like to belong to her.

He dutifully turned and stepped in behind her, and she moved to the side then nudged him under the water. She let the water run over him for a few minutes then picked up a bottle of shampoo and proceeded to lather his hair. It took three washes and rinses before she was satisfied, and then she worked a good amount of conditioner into his hair. Leaving it to work, she picked up a washcloth and a bar of soap, scrubbing the soap against the cloth until she'd built up a mountain of foam. She started scrubbing it over him, starting at his neck and moving down his body. She was still fully clothed, standing next to him in a soaked, dripping dress that clung to her like a second skin, but when she'd thoroughly cleaned his torso, she put the cloth down and shimmied out of the dress, letting it drop to the floor with a wet plop.

William's cock, which had been standing tall and proud this whole time, twitched at the sight of her creamy skin and lithe, perfectly formed body. His blush deepened and Buffy smiled as she reached down and patted him gently, "Don't worry, we'll get to you soon, but you need to be clean first."

The washcloth came out again and Buffy continued her scrubbing, covering every inch of him with the foamy lather. She scrubbed his bits and bobs with care, likely not intending the touches to be sensual or enticing in any way, but William still voiced a quiet moan of pleasure as she handled him. Nobody but him had touched that part of his anatomy since he'd been toilet trained, and when he moaned, Buffy looked up at him with a smirk and wrapped her soapy hand around him, stroking slowly until he was thrusting into her hand. He voiced a small whine of frustration when she let go just as he was about to climax, and she chuckled as she scrubbed his leg. "Patience, my William." When he was squeaky clean from neck to toes, she dropped the washcloth and picked up a straight razor and a can of shaving cream. "Hold still, my William. I don't want to bleed you… yet."

The 'yet' washed over him without sticking and he stood as still as he could while she lathered him up then started scraping the razor along his skin, only moving when she moved his head to get a better angle with the razor. It took a while; William hadn't shaved in a very long time, but finally his face was as naked as the rest of him.

She soaped up a clean cloth then gently scrubbed his face, tracing the cloth over his cheeks, nose, forehead, and chin. She even cleaned his ears before tugging him back under the spray to rinse his hair and the rest of him.

She stood back and pulled him out from under the spray, taking his place, then nodded toward a shelf, indicating a bottle of shampoo, and said, "Your turn."

He hesitantly picked up the shampoo and flipped the cap open then squirted a sizeable dollop into his palm. Buffy looked up at him and said, "Clean me, my William."

There was that shiver again, and he'd decided that he did like it. He wanted to belong to her. Wanted it more than he'd ever wanted anything. He'd spend the rest of his life doing anything she asked of him if she'd just let him stay here with her. He whispered with an incline of his head, "Yes, Miss."

Buffy reached out, grasping his chin gently and forcing him to lock his eyes with hers. She gazed deeply into them then nodded slightly, mostly to herself, and said, "Yes. I've decided I'm going to keep you, William, so you will refer to me as Mistress instead of Miss and you will be called…" She looked down then smiled and locked gazes with him again, "…Spike." She stepped closer. "You're mine."

Spike nodded dazedly, "Yes, Mistress, I'm yours."

He passed the rest of the shower in what felt like a drugged haze, his mind full of the light speckled darkness he'd seen swirling in her eyes and the words 'keep you' and 'you're mine' that kept circling his brain. He was only vaguely aware of what was happening as he followed the commands of his Mistress, washing and scrubbing and rinsing her from head to toe. She kept murmuring words of praise and giving him gentle touches as he did as she commanded, strengthening her hold on him.

Buffy shivered in anticipation as she contemplated the hours ahead. She'd feed her new pet, human food and her blood, to give him the strength he'd need to withstand the hours she'd spend teaching him and enjoying him, not to mention the claiming bite that would cement her hold on him. She gazed at him lovingly… she hadn't had a pet in so long.

XXXX

Spike woke slowly, awareness of his surroundings coming to his senses in small bursts. He was warm, his arm was curled over his Mistress as she snuggled tightly against his chest, and he was hungry… and sore. His muscles ached, he was covered in small scratches and love bites, and a spot on his neck was throbbing in time with his heartbeat. He opened his eyes and looked down at the tousled blonde hair draped over his arm. She shifted slightly, pressing her backside against him and he groaned quietly, his eyes closing as flashes of the night before played across his mind.

She'd had him in every position he knew, and some positions he'd never even heard of, and he'd done things to her that he'd only ever heard talked about in hushed whispers with his childhood friends. She'd instructed him in exactly the ways to please her and had been ecstatic at what she'd called his 'natural talent' with his tongue and fingers. At some point, she'd cut her wrist somehow and had told him to suck at the cut until it stopped bleeding. He'd thought that vaguely weird, but he'd been so close to climax at the time that he'd latched on without thinking about it and had sucked hungrily at her blood until he'd experienced the most intense orgasm he'd ever had… at least until she'd bitten him. She'd been riding him hard, and when they'd both been on the razor's edge, she'd leaned down and buried her fangs in his neck, drawing several mouthfuls of blood before rearing up, his blood dripping down her chin, and screaming 'Mine!' as they'd both climaxed. He'd passed out after that one.

Spike's eyes popped open and he blurted, "Fangs? She has fangs?"

Buffy shifted again and murmured, "Yes, she does. She's a vampire. Now go back to sleep, my pet."

Spike whispered, "Yes, Mistress," and closed his eyes. He was asleep in minutes.