Chapter Fourteen – Practice

Riley's phone chirped and he dug it out of his pocket. He punched a few buttons then smiled and tucked the phone away before standing up. "On your knees."

Spike sputtered, "What?"

Riley walked around the bed and pointed at the floor. "On your knees. Right here."

Spike looked down at the floor then back up at Riley. "Why?"

"Because you need some practice, and since I'll be here for a while, now seems like a good time."

"Practice doin' what?"

Riley leered and reached for his belt buckle. "What do you think?"

Spike scowled and snapped, "I already told you I wasn't doin' that again. You shove your dick in my mouth and you'll be known as Stumpy Finn for the rest of your miserable life, 'cause I'll bite the bitch off, I swear to God."

"I don't think so, Willy." He walked over to the chair and picked up his bag, setting it on the bed by Spike's feet. He unzipped it then reached inside and pulled out a ring gag. "Because you'll be wearing this. Might as well get used to it because this thing?" He held it out towards Spike and waggled it. "Will practically be a part of you." He stepped around the bed. "On your fucking knees. Now."

Spike swallowed hard then forcefully shook his head. "No. You want me down there; you'll have to force me, fuckin' drag me out of this bed."

Riley shrugged. "Yeah, I could do that, or…" He pulled a taser out of the bag and held it up. "I could do this. I'll give you to the count of five to get on your knees or I'll tase your balls. One."

Spike gaped at him then breathed, "You wouldn't."

Riley nodded. "Yeah, I would. Two."

"Your mum'll be pissed if you damage me anymore, what with dosh already changin' hands for my 'services.'"

Riley smirked. "You might not be able to have kids if I tase your nuts, but you can still get raped. Three."

Spike grimaced then lifted his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I'm going." He reached down and grasped the blanket, making sure to flip it over the brochure and booklet that were still sitting on his leg. He shoved the blanket off his legs, completely burying the papers in the folds of fabric, then turned and dropped his feet over the edge of the bed. He looked up at Riley. "Just give me a mo'. Movin' makes me dizzy."

"Four."

Spike grasped the folded down bed rail to steady himself then started sliding off the bed. He gingerly lowered himself to his knees beside the bed then sat back on his feet. "All right. I'm down. You can put that thing away now."

Riley put the taser back in the bag and tossed the gag onto the bed then reached for the pouch on the back of his belt, producing a pair of handcuffs. He moved to Spike's left side and barked, "Arm." Spike raised his left arm and Riley snapped a cuff around his wrist then attached the other ring to the footboard of the bed. He stepped toward Spike's right side and reached around him to raise the bed rail. His other pair of cuffs were still dangling from it and Riley unlocked them then moved them further up the rail towards the head of the bed before barking again, "Arm." Spike raised his right arm and Riley snapped the cuff around his wrist, leaving Spike with his arms outstretched like he was on a cross.

Spike winced then asked, "Could you adjust my IV tubing? It's pullin' where she stuck the needle in."

Riley rolled his eyes then lifted the tubing from under the bed rail and laid it over the top. "There."

Spike cut his eyes to the camera then looked up at Riley and said clearly, "I don't want to do this. What you're 'bout to do to me is rape."

Riley snorted, "Yeah, no shit," then he reached for the gag and held it in front of Spike's face. "Open wide, Willy."

Spike shook his head then clenched his jaw and looked down, his hair falling to cover his face. Riley grabbed a fistful of his hair and wrenched his head back then leaned down and snarled in Spike's face. "Open your fucking mouth, or…"

Spike felt Riley's boot nudging harshly at his balls and stammered, "N..No…don't. I'll do it." Riley released his hair, but left his boot pressed against Spike's testicles, and Spike swallowed hard then shook his hair out of his face, licked his lips, and looked up at Riley, opening his mouth as wide as he could.

XXXX

Buffy glanced at the clock again and clenched her jaw. This was taking too long. She looked back to her patient, a smallish blond man named Andrew. He was the one who'd peeked at her when she'd first entered the brothel. He was twenty-two, but his nearly constant babble about comic books and Star Wars made him seem much younger. She smiled at him then held up the needle in her hand. "One last stick and you'll be done."

He nodded then nervously looked away from his arm as Buffy slid the needle into his vein. "Why are you here, Andrew?"

He glanced at her then shrugged. "Me and two friends tried to rob an armored car. Didn't work out."

"And you volunteered for… this?" She nodded toward the brothel's lobby.

He shrugged again. "Sort of."

Buffy slid the needle out of his arm and pressed a cotton ball to the puncture. "Sort of?" She wrapped a piece of stretchy tape around his arm to hold the cotton ball in place.

"Well, when the Warden had me brought to her office to tell me about it, she said…" He trailed off and dropped his gaze to the floor.

Buffy prompted him quietly, "What did she say, Andrew? I promise I won't tell her you told me."

Andrew's voice was very quiet and Buffy had to lean closer to hear him. "She said that if I said no then I'd have an accident and nobody would miss me." He looked up at her. "I don't want to die, Nurse Summers, none of us do, so we all told her we'd do it." He looked down again. "Except Spike… and after what happened to him…" He grimaced. "We all heard it. The hitting… the screaming…" He looked shyly up at Buffy. "Is he okay?"

Buffy nodded. "He'll be fine." She glanced at the clock again then whispered, "I hope."

Andrew followed her gaze. "Is Spike in trouble?"

Buffy took in the concern on Andrew's face then nodded. "Probably. He's with Riley… the guy who…"

"Beat him up."

"Yeah."

Andrew hopped off the table. "I'm done, right? How many of us are left?"

Buffy blinked. "Um… just one." She picked up the list from the counter. "Daniel Osborne."

Andrew turned to the door. "I'll go get him and tell him you're in a hurry because you have to get back to Spike."

"Is he Spike's friend, too?"

Andrew turned around wearing a deep blush. "I'm not his friend, I just…" He shrugged and looked away.

"You have a crush on him."

Andrew nodded then turned and opened the door. "Yeah, but he doesn't even know I exist. I'll go get Oz."

Buffy smiled and said, "Thanks, Andrew," to an empty doorway.

A few minutes later, a red-headed man with an easy smile appeared in the doorway. "Hey, I'm Oz." He walked over to the table and climbed up on it then held out his arm. "Let's get this done."

XXXX

Spike looked up at the clock then dropped his head. Riley chuckled quietly from the chair as he tapped buttons on his phone. "She'll be gone for a while longer, Willy, but in a few minutes, you'll be too busy to worry about it."

Spike shuddered and flexed his fingers then let his arms relax, trying to ignore the way the cuffs bit into his wrists. He'd been on his knees beside the bed for just over three hours, and he'd had to 'practice' on Riley four times so far. The whole front of his body was covered in saliva and Riley's spendings, and the puddle on the floor between his legs was getting steadily larger. The muscles in his arms, shoulders, and back were one big knot, his knees were on fire, and with the way his jaw was screaming at him, he doubted he'd be able to close his mouth when the gag was finally removed.

He also desperately needed to use the toilet. He'd tried to convey that need to Riley, but the garbled noises he was able to make with the gag in his mouth had only made the larger man laugh. Spike sighed and tried to think about something else. He glanced up at the camera. He didn't know how long it would continuously record, but hopefully it had captured at least some of what he'd gone through this morning and that would be enough proof for Buffy's sister. If it wasn't… Spike shuddered again then closed his eyes at the thought that experiences like this would be daily occurrences for the next nine months.

Spike opened his eyes and looked toward the end of the bed when he heard Riley stand up. He tried to steel himself for a fifth round of 'practice', but Riley didn't step in front of him. Instead, he walked to the door and opened it, admitting the weaselly looking guard who'd been down in the hole the other day. The guard's eyes widened when he spotted Spike then he glanced nervously around the room. Riley laughed. "No cameras in here, Tomkins." He waved a hand at Spike. "His ass is spoken for, but his mouth is all yours. Have at it."

Tomkins smiled and started toward Spike, unbuckling his belt. "Hey, thanks, man. How much time do I have?"

Riley glanced at the clock. "She still has three guys to go, and Mom said she's been spending about half an hour per guy, so… figure just over an hour."

Tomkins nodded as he slid his zipper down. "Okay. What do I do with him when I'm done?"

"He goes back in the bed and the gag goes in there." He pointed at the bag on the bed then sneered at Spike. "And if you cuff him to the rails, you can watch some TV in the room across the hall while you wait for the nurse to come back."

"Do I need to do anything else?"

Riley started through the door, calling over his shoulder, "Just remember to grab the bag and don't damage him. Mom'll be pissed."

XXXX

Buffy shut the door to solitary then hurried down the hall, muttering under her breath, "Let Spike be okay. Let Spike be okay."

She swiped her keycard then pushed the door open and rushed through, turning immediately to her right to deposit the rack holding the tubes of blood on the counter. She dropped her bag next to them then turned and headed for Spike's room. Motion from the room across the hall startled her and she stopped, spinning to face the room with her hand over her heart. Tomkins, looking just as disheveled as before, stepped out of the room carrying Riley's bag. Buffy dropped her hand and asked, "What are you doing here?"

Tomkins nodded at Spike's room. "I got stuck babysitting because Finn had to go do something else."

"Oh." Buffy threw a glance over her shoulder at Spike's room. "Have you checked on him?"

Tomkins shook his head. "No. Finn told me he was fine and just to wait in the other room for you to come back."

Buffy scowled. "Okay. Uh… you can go now, I guess."

Tomkins nodded and started for the exit. "Oh… his lunch is on your desk. I met one of the kitchen girls on my way up here an hour or so ago."

Buffy scowled harder. "And you didn't give it to him?"

Tomkins turned to face her then sneered as he pulled the door open. "It's not my job to wait on these fucks."

Buffy just blinked at him as he stepped through the door and slammed it shut behind him. A noise from Spike's room caught her attention and she turned to the door, hurriedly grabbing the handle. She stopped dead in her tracks about halfway into the room and gasped.

Spike was sprawled on his back in the bed, his knees bent over the footboard, with both wrists cuffed to the bed rails above his head. His chest, belly, and genitals were shiny, like they were wet, and he was shivering in the cool air of the room due to the blanket being bunched up under his legs. He'd slid as far as he could toward the side of the bed furthest from the door and the sharp scent of vomit struck Buffy's nose, mixed with the scents of urine and semen. He had his face turned away from her, but she could see a red stripe of irritated flesh along a part of his cheek that wasn't bruised.

She started forward and her foot slipped, nearly sending her to the floor. She looked down and frowned at the puddle beside the bed, discovering where the urine and semen smells were originating from, then turned and walked around to the other side. Spike's eyes were closed, but with the way his chest was hitching, he wasn't asleep. He was crying. She leaned down, scowling at the large puddle of vomit on the bed next to his armpit with several strands of his hair soaking in it, then laid her hand lightly on his head and quietly said, "Spike?"

He opened his eyes and the pain in them broke Buffy's heart. He sniffled then closed his eyes and whispered, "Can I have a shower, please? I need to get them off me. Please, Buffy."

All Buffy wanted to do was climb in beside Spike and hold him, but she flipped her switch to Nurse Mode and got to work. "Okay. Just let me get the cuffs off. I'll be right back." She stomped toward the door, planning Riley's vicious murder in her head, and when Spike's use of the word 'them' pinged in her memory, she added Tomkins to the vicious murder list.

She returned with her lock-picking kit and quickly had Spike out of the cuffs. When his arms were free, he immediately sat up, wincing sharply, and looked at her with haunted eyes. "I don't think I can walk that far."

"I'll need to remove the IV before you can shower."

He nodded at her and whispered, "Please hurry."

She did, removing his IV and bandaging the puncture with record speed. She told him to stay put then left the room to fetch the wheelchair. She rolled it around to the far side of the bed and locked the wheels then helped him into it. She tugged his blanket off the bed, not noticing when the booklet and brochure fell to the floor, then folded it and laid it over him.

Spike clutched the blanket in his fingers and nodded at the floor. "Buffy, down there. Can you get those papers?"

She leaned over him and looked down then pushed the bed over with her hip and bent to pick up what he'd indicated. She gasped at the pictures then snapped, "What the hell are these?"

Spike sighed tiredly. "My 'service menus.' Finn showed 'em to me before he…" Spike closed his eyes. "Don't read 'em right now. Just put 'em somewhere safe. Think your sis might be interested in what they have to say."

Buffy tucked the papers securely into the pocket of her lab coat then unlocked the chair's wheels and started out of the room. She stopped by the supply cart and picked up her camera. It was still recording. She stopped it then turned it off and tucked it into her pocket with the papers. "If that bastard did what I think he did, then we've got him."