Pleasurable Evils
By JD joandoe@gmail.com

Description: The magical sacrifice of Dawn leaves Buffy powerless and grants soulless vampires Spike and Angelus the chance to destroy the Slayer.

Content Codes (Part one): M/F(oral), rape, nc, snuff, viol, M+/F(necro) M+/M

Disclaimer: This story contains content that should not be read by people underneath the age of 21. It is 100% fiction and has no bearing on reality whatsoever. 100% fiction means real life rape is WRONG. The author does not condone illegal and immoral actions described. If you feel rape in the real world is a good thing, bend over in a prison and whistle dixie. While I'm disclaiming, racism, homophobia and other bigotry of any kind are also really fucking stupid. I don’t own any of Joss Whedon’s characters and make no profit from this story. Please read the story codes to ensure that you are not going to be offended by, or otherwise dislike, the content.

Additional Credit: Requested by DrBlasphemy of TSSA.


Part one: Fred’s Dead

The First Evil predated humanity by countless aeons, older than any calendar. Yet, it was as much defined by the evil humans do of their own free will as by the mindless, soulless evil of the demon clans. In a sense, the first human recorded was Adam, created by a supreme force of good and given sanctuary within a garden no demon should have been able to enter. Yet, the First Evil was no mere demon and entered in the form of a serpent. The tempting of Eve to eat of the fruit is well known. Tempting Adam to take Eve by force repeatedly, even as she was swollen with child, is not.

Yet, those evils remained defining characteristics in all that came later. The cruelty of sexualised violence spread, becoming the first resort of cruel and ignorant humans as they willingly did evil. Rape as a weapon of war and oppression remains a tool in even the most modern wars. The greatest evil of the act is the denial of a victim’s will and the perversion of natural procreation into degradation, subjugation, humiliation and violation. The First Evil then, had the oldest gambit of humanity to play when a Slayer, Buffy, proved resilient and the strands of fate foretold defeat in the maw of hell for the First.

The First Evil had no mouth to smile with, save those it stole from the dead. Such a stolen smile it wore on incarnating within Angel’s Los Angeles hotel lair. It watched unseen with Buffy’s eyes as Angel talked with his friend and employee Fred. The First Evil could feel his shame over Angelus’ actions in the period before the Witch restored his soul, and beneath Angel’s thoughts the scrabbling vengeful evil of Angelus. The vampire raised his head, as if suddenly aware of the First Evil’s presence. As it had nearly driven Angel to suicide once before, the First Evil knew detection was a possibility. As it watched, a distant great power ripped Angel’s soul from his body with only the slightest effort.

In an instant, Angelus was back. No pain, no trauma, not with the newly formulated spell cast in distant Sunnydale. From Angel to Angelus with no hint to Fred of the mortal danger the young woman was now in. Fred was telling Angelus that they had no idea where either Cordelia, or Angel’s brat Connor could be found. Angel had found her accent pretty, even attractive. Angelus simply thought it grated, and decided the world should never hear it again. The vampire stood, and pulled her face to his. Fred was too shocked to fight the sudden rough kiss, and part of her didn’t want to.

As her surprised eyes met his, Fred saw not love or lust but mocking cruelty. She tried to pull away, but ‘Angel’s’ grip on her head was suddenly beyond her strength. Her panicked cry was muffled by Angelus’ probing tongue as he slicked it around her mouth. Angelus could taste her breakfast, and more, Fred hadn’t cleaned her teeth since she’d last pleasured Gunn orally. Angeles knew they were supposed to have broken up after Gunn killed some guy, but it seemed they hadn’t ended the physical side. Fred gave up trying to pull Angelus’ arms away from his head, and instead went for his eyes with hooked fingers. Simultaneously, the smartest girl in Los Angelus shifted position to knee her ‘boss’ in the groin. A strong kick to the balls could floor even a vampire.

As her thumbs reached Angelus’ mocking eyes, the Vampire’s knee came up into Fred’s crotch with pelvis cracking force. If he were to let her live, Fred would not walk for months. The pain was so great that Fred’s grasping hands dropped away from Angelus’s face, and fumbled for her own groin. She could barely think straight, and wished fervently to pass out. Angelus waited for Fred’s agonised scream to die in his mouth, and then dropped the girl onto the carpet. Angelus unzipped his pants and had his hardening shaft in Fred’s mouth before she could scream again. Fred tasted Angelus’ cock, but was used to deep-throating and so didn’t gag as it slipped down into her throat.

A wet stain formed at the crotch of Fred’s pants as Angelus raped her mouth. Fred’s fingers were stained yellow as she cupped her bruised cunt gingerly. Angelus controlled Fred’s body with a mere two fingers; a firm grip on her nose. The vampire watched the cock-gagged girl’s face darken with delicious rich blood. He was hungry. Angel never fed himself properly, subsiding on pig’s blood. There was none of the delicious tang that fear and suffering bought to a vampire’s diet. Not enough sex either. Fred’s spasming throat felt exquisite squeezing his shaft. A thousand rapes across the decades – mostly nuns, admittedly - and it never got old.

Fred scrabbled weakly with piss-drenched fingers at Angel’s thighs; Angelus as she now knew him to be. The pain grew in her head and lungs while tears flowed down her cheeks. Her shattered pelvis protested every time Angelus thrust into her throat, and his balls slapped hard against her chin with every brutal stroke. Fred, barely capable of rational thought, assumed Willow’s soul restoration spell had failed somehow. Been a temporary measure, or somehow never truly worked at all.

Oxygen deprivation was destroying Fred’s mind, and she felt terror she hadn’t experienced since her hell-world exile, but there could now be no scrawled equations to take her mind from fear and suffering as Angelus’ choked her to near death. Fred was seconds from the end of her short, tragic life when Angelus stiffened, and held his length deep in Fred’s sore throat. She felt the cold spurts of his dead semen in her gullet, and then suddenly she could breath again. Angelus pulled his cock from Fred’s mouth, giving her the last spray of Semen across her purple face.

The vampire dragged the almost dead girl to her feet, though her legs would not support her. She weakly coughed, then harder as she drew a strand of semen down into her lungs. Angelus held Fred’s desperate eyes for the briefest second, and then his teeth were in her throat. Fred barely felt the pain as she weakly sought air. Angelus’ kill was swiftly accomplished. He drained Fred’s blood and the last of her life. He gloried in the betrayal of the trust Fred had held in Angel, before dropping the corpse like garbage.

“Should have saved some of that for me,” came Buffy’s voice.

Angelus turned to the sight of the Slayer, naked on the bed. He sniffed the air, and knew immediately that this vision wasn’t the Slayer. He could smell nothing at all.

“What the hell are you?”

“Your soul is in my power now. The talents I command are far greater than the petty bitch who stole Angel’s goodness before. She seeks to ruin my apocalypse with peace. She will be dealt with.”

Angelus really didn’t have much of a clue what the vision before him meant, although he vaguely understood it to be a reference to the Beast’s master.

“Why’d you pick that bitch to appear as?”

“She was dead. Not dead enough though. Come back to Sunnydale, Angel. Make her choose between you and Spike. She let him take her far more times than you did.”

It clicked. Angelus realised he was talking to the First Evil.

“Me? Spike? There’s no competition with Drusilla’s little joke. Anyway, why should I do what you say? You’re so pathetic you couldn’t even make Angel kill himself!”

“Snow fell in Sunnydale for the first time in… time. Anyway, it was for the best because you can be around to help me out.”

The First Evil spread Buffy’s blonde bush wide, showing a lot of pink. Then the vision changed, and she wore Buffy’s form in a post death mode. Angelus was treated to the Slayer as a mutilated corpse. His hunger rose. There was unfinished business there, for sure, but it rankled him to do the bidding of another. Still, he could always justify it as something he’d always intended to do anyway.

“There will be a sacrifice before dawn tonight, in the Cave of the Incantatrix in Sunnydale. Buffy’s kin will power magic within the cave. You will lure the Slayer there once darkness falls again, and inside that hillside the Slayer will have no more powers than a mortal girl for a single night.

The same magic will keep out most of those who might enter after her and render aid. Then, you can find out which of you she liked fucking best and take your revenge. Spike’s revenge. My revenge and punishment for her opposition.”

The door to the room opened, and the eyeless bringers entered. There were at least a dozen, and perhaps more in the corridor. Servants of the First Evil, their mutilated faces were instantly recognisable. Angelus realised the First Evil hadn’t come alone to Los Angeles, or perhaps that it had servants everywhere. Three of them moved to Fred’s cooling meat and began to strip her clothing.

“You will need to call ahead, to Sunnydale, and lie to the Slayer and her allies. This will buy the time needed for the sacrifice. I summoned my servants to assist you in killing Angel’s friends, so that none of them can tell anyone of consequence that you’re back too early.”

Angeluse liked the pained bubbling in Buffy’s voice as this vision before him simulated grievous internal injuries. Hurting Buffy for a single night wouldn’t be enough. Drusilla, as a project, had taken months of psychological torture. Still, he could always turn Buffy and hurt the demon she became for eternity. Didn’t she once whisper that ending her existence as a vampire was her greatest nightmare?

“Assistance?” Angelus looked offended, “I killed brainbox Fred easily enough didn’t I? Wesley and Gunn might be okay with run of the mill demons, but I’ve killed tougher in my sleep. Anyway, those boys don’t seem bothered with helping.”

Angelus waved towards the three who now had Fred’s body naked. One lay on his back, and tugged his cock from his robes. Fred’s head lolled back as her slackened ass was impaled on the Bringer’s hard shaft. Another pushed her legs wider and penetrated her cunt, still moist with piss and asphyxiation arousal. The last crouched awkwardly and pulled Fred’s breasts around his own shaft, eagerly fucking the soft flesh. Fred’s body bounced between the bringers, while another three approached. They took her hands and pulled limb fingers about their shafts, while the last gripped her head and pressed into her mouth. It was almost ironic, Angelus considered, here Fred was having the gangrape of a lifetime, and she was too dead to enjoy it.

The First Evil didn’t seem concerned. Many of the Bringers were castrated in her service, but those who weren’t could defile the dead or the living in equal measure. Fred’s bloodshot eyes were half open, glazed and unseeing, as the six bringers moved faster. They made no noise but for panting, and the slap of flesh on flesh. Even as they approached climax, there were no groans. In life, Fred had been a brilliant and courageous young woman. In death, she was a sperm receptacle. All six came simultaneously, tugging out and spraying Fred’s face, tits, cunt and ass with their slimy sperm.

“Okay, now shall we go kill Angel’s othet friends?” asked Angelus, as wads of cum rained all over Fred’s pale skin.


At the same instant, Spike, carrying a tortured soul but freed of the chip in his head, lead Dawn safely through the deserted streets of Sunnydale. It was dangerous to be out in the early hours, but Dawn had pleaded to be allowed to get away for a break. Anyway, as she pointed out it was mostly deserted. A lot of lesser demons had forsaken the hellmouth, muttering a desire to face the end brought by the First in a better quality of pit. Why choose a side, they asked, when there was still beer and kittens aplenty outside the town? Still, the night was dangerous and the Slayer’s little sister was not to travel unaccompanied.

The First Evil incarnated before them, visible only to Spike’s eyes. Dawn stumbled as Spike stopped unexpectedly. The same distant spellcaster removed the vampire’s soul from his body, as it had done to Angel. Spike had seen far more of the First Evil in the previous weeks than Angelus had ever done; he recognized immediately that some other force had taken his soul on behalf of the First. He knew the First was incorporeal, able to tempt and threaten or inspire its minions only. The old Spike returned. Freed of guilt over his attempted rape of the slayer, finally awarded the prize he’d suffered through terrible trials to obtain.

“Well, well little bit. It seems the First Evil has more cunning servants than we might have expected. What knew scheme is this, I wonder?”

Dawn heard the strange and confident pleasure in Spike’s voice, and realized he was focusing his gaze on something or someone she could not see. The First Evil approached Spike, clothes melting away until the vision was naked but feet from him. He withdrew a packet of cigarettes from his coat, the coat he took from a Slayer’s corpse, and lit one. Dawn had a fleeting urge to ask for one, to appear more adult with her ‘friend’.

“Feel what the power I command has returned to you,” The First said for Spike’s ears only, “Angelus comes from the city of angels to make this bitch,” and here it ran hands down Buffy’s form, “choose betwixt you. You can have her for a night, her powers robbed from her, and do what you will. All that will be needed to ensure the Slayer’s powerlessness is one sacrifice. Bring the meat beside you to the Cave of The Incantatrix.”

Spike had good reason to hate the First Evil. It had tormented him for a long time in his madness. On the other hand, Drusilla had done much the same and he’d loved her for it. Like Angelus, he had a strong sense of unfinished business with the Slayer, and revulsion for the puppy-eyed-moper he had become under her influence and that of the chip. The vampire was aware of Dawn’s confusion beside him and an undercurrent of rising fear, though he didn’t realize she could neither see nor hear the First’s speech. He liked the fear. He’d forgotten how fun it could be.

There was no time though, to play with Dawn’s fear. The Cave he knew to be on the edge of Sunnydale, and he would need to rush Dawn there to avoid the sunrise. He would go along with the First’s scheme. Too many past defeats had proven to Spike that Buffy was one Slayer he couldn’t defeat alone and drain as he had Wood’s bitch of a mother, or the Chinese whore. The sudden loss of his soul without pain or confusion was enough to convince him that whoever was working magic for The First could weave the spell to take Buffy’s strength.

Dawn started to back away from Spike as he smiled upon her. There was nothing in his expression to give her reason for joy. Her heart thudded within her young breast, and suddenly her mouth was dry. Something, she thought, had gotten into Spike. Quite the opposite was true, but further speculation was curtailed by the economical punch Spike landed on her chin. He caught Dawn as she fell, and lifted her upon his shoulders. The First Evil was nowhere to be seen as the suddenly very cheerful Vampire sped through the streets.


Angelus still had Fred’s scent in his nostrils as he descended through the hotel where Angel had made his home. The bringers had entered through the rusted old fire escapes, unheard and unseen by Angel’s remaining allies. Angelus surprised Gunn, and snapped the man’s neck with a single blow. It was doubtful that Gunn, resourceful and skilled as he was, could have taken the vampire in a fair fight – and Angelus had no desire to offer any man a fair fight. Two of the bringers took Gunn’s corpse, though the head was wrenched backwards, and began to strip it. Angelus moved on without looking back.

Wesley had even less chance. He almost made it to a weapon before the remaining bringers took him together. The bringers intended to take turns raping the still struggling Englishman over his desk. It seemed Gunn had gotten off lightly.

There was no sign of Connor, though, nor Cornelia. Angelus had no suspicion yet of the thing using Cordelia’s body, and probably wouldn’t have cared about the dead beast’s mistress if he did. His mind was on Buffy Summers, and the suggestion that she might choose Spike over him. As if! He’d made her suffer far more – did that count for nothing? Oh, these girls could be flighty and capricious until he’d tortured them to death. But, still, Spike was a mere annoyance.

A solid punch shattered Wesley’s jaw. His cursing became incomprehensible as teeth and blood splashed the wall. A moment later a bringer’s cock, foetid with disease and running sores, was pushed between his lips. It choked the higher pitched scream as his anus was brutally penetrated. Angelus watched as a Bringer crouched blindly by the desk, and took a grip on Wesley’s balls, stroking cock and scrotum roughly. Wesley’s suffering was entertaining, but he’d seen enough. He made to leave.

“Wait, Angelus.”

The thing wore Fred’s purple face, sperm and spit dribbling from between her lips. To the vampire, it was good entertainment. He wondered about asking for it to wear some of his favourite kills from the old days. Nothing like a trip down memory lane.

“Call ahead to Sunnydale. Like I told you. This is the cover story…”

The First was interrupted by a particularly loud muffled cry as the bringer raping Wesley’s ass came inside, to be replaced by another. He was crying, and his face grew almost as purple as Fred’s had before the bringer yanking his cock free, and came across Wesley’s space. Bloody semen from the bringer’s diseased balls sprayed across Wesley’s face, splashing his glasses and dripping down his shattered jaw. Another bringer plugged the gap, Fred’s dead ass still fresh on its cock. The First continued,

“Tell the Slayer that Wolfram and Hart have her sister, the key to reality. They will soon realise she is missing, along with Spike. Explain she is beyond their power to recover until nightfall as they hold her in another dimension. Tell them that then you will have obtained a portal location, and will ring them later to confirm it and meet them there once the sun drops.”

The instructions came fast and without pause, as Fred used to run off complex equations. It irked Angelus to be ordered, but he liked the sound of Dawn being involved. Hurting the Slayer’s family would serve to hurt the Slayer more. He had an intuition that Dawn would be the sacrifice that the First had spoken of, to keep Buffy within their power. Family ties made good, strong, blood magic. With an air of one begrudging his orders, he did as she requested, speaking to a panicked Xander – how he hated that boy – rather than Buffy, who was out patrolling.”

Wes had made a desperate attempt to break free, and interrupt the call. The bringer plugging his throat drew a wickedly sharp blade, and brought it down through Wes’s neck. The Englishman’s spine was severed instantly, and he lost the feeling of pain in his ass. The Bringer’s thrusts in his mouth stopped. It had managed to impale it’s own cock. Blood sprayed from the wound as the wounded servant of the First withdrew. Wes’s last sight before the darkness claimed him was of the remaining bringer’s masturbating over his face. He died as the first wads splashed across his stubbly jaw.

“My servants will make sure the bodies are not discovered before tonight. One will drive you in a blacked out van to meet the Slayer’s destiny.”

“To Sunnydale, then!” Angelus cried, leaving the room happily.

End of Part One
Feedback to joandoe@gmail.com

Content Codes (for part two): Dickgirl/F, rape, nc, viol, magic-mutil, grope

Part two: Dawn Cannot Die

Spike entered the darkness of the Cave of The Incantatrix with the bravery of a man who knows that the thing to fear in the dark is he. Dawn had stirred, but not woken fully, during the journey across town. Two turns inside the darkness, and the path opened into a cavernous space that had once served as a temple to a demonic god. Years later a powerful creature, the so-called Incantatrix, had made its home there. Now the cave, more accurately caves, had the appearance of being a staging base for the followers of the First Evil.

There were the silent, mutilated bringers who had murdered many of the slayers that Rupert Giles and his friends had not managed to rescue. Demons who’d thrown in their lot with the First Evil, rather than flee the Hellmouth. Curiously, there was no sign of Caleb, the man who’d made an art form out of sacrilege and been raised up in the service of the First. No doubt he had other tasks for the power he served. No other vampires either, Spike noticed without much pleasure. Perhaps the First had no time for them with its ability to call upon true vampires.

“Is she harmed?”

The voice that spoke was not one Spike was intimately familiar with, though he had overheard it once or twice. ‘Seen her about the school on his first trip to Sunnydale. Name’s on the tip of me tongue’, he thought, ‘unless that’s a curse about her stupid question’. He turned, and saw, and remembered.

“Amy the witch. Heard you was a rat, or was it a newt? Got better did you?”

Amy wore an azure robe. There was a cowl to it, but it hung down. A black cord held the garment closed across her waist. Spike had the strong impression the witch was naked beneath, and his nose told him she was still very much human, and not even slightly afraid. He had his answer to the question of how his soul had been ripped out so quickly, leaving only the new question of how Amy had gained so much power.

“I asked, Spike, is she harmed?”

“A love tap, darling. Didn’t even break her jaw. You got my soul somewhere have you? Is a vampire’s soul the new cultist’s fashion accessory to go with the fancy robes? ”

Amy again refrained from providing information. She didn’t hide her contempt for Spike, either.

“Bring her and follow me. I will begin the sacrifice immediately, so at least if everything else goes wrong I can say I did my bit competently enough.”

“Likely to go wrong is it?”

“When was the last time anybody messed with Buffy Summers and won?” Amy asked cynically, as she motioned for Spike to follow.

Spike carried Dawn’s limp body through a passage out of the main cavern. The jagged walls curved round and the path rose sharply upwards. Flaming torches set into wall brackets lit Spike’s way as he followed the witch until the tunnel opened up again. They stood on a ledge at a higher level than the main cave, overlooking the larger cavern below. A pedestal was carved from the solid rock, about three feet high, and the width and depth of a large pizza box. Spike could see other ledges from the raised position, more obvious than on entering the main cave. He had actually been inside the cave before, and knew where most of them led.

A larger slab of cool black marble lay on the ledge.

“Lay Dawn upon it. Gently. Then strip her naked. Do not harm her. The power of the sacrifice will be most potent if she is as whole as possible.”

Spike had imagined Dawn nude on numerous occasions, sometimes even while fucking her sister. He laid the stirring teen girl on the cold marble, and then copped a feel of her firm breasts through the fabric of her blouse. His fingers rubbed across Dawn’s nipples even through the thickness of her bra, and her eyes opened fully at the same moment.

“Get off me, you creep! Buffy’s going to kick your ass!”

Buttons flew from Dawn’s blouse as Spike ripped it open. Dawn slapped his face as hard as she could. The impact shook her arm, and left a red handprint on Spike’s pale cheek. The vampire chuckled, and pushed Dawn’s bra up. The fabric came apart under his vampiric strength, and he tossed the fabric beyond the teenager’s reach. Dawn’s breasts were completely bared. Spike had another quick grope, fondling the firm flesh eagerly.

“That’s enough of that,” Amy commanded sternly, “Just strip her.”

“Spoilsport.”

Dawn was afraid, but also confident that Buffy would save her, as she had so many times before. As it sank in that she was topless, she covered her perky teen breasts in shock. The vampire took the opportunity to take a sudden, firm grip on her pants, and tug them to her ankles. Dawn yelped, but Spike had them off along with her shoes before she could resist. Dawn tried to curl into a foetal position, naked but for her white socks and a crucifix on a chain. Spike caught arousing glimpses of her pussy and nipples as she tried futilely to cover all. Amy motioned her hand at Dawn’s socks, and Spike gripped one ankle and then the other to bare Dawn’s toes.

Amy lent down over the slab and grasped the crucifix. Her cowl fell forward and hooded her as she did so, casting all but her chin and lips in dark shadow. The chain snapped in her hand, and she placed it upon the roughly hewn pedestal. Dawn was cursing Spike with a stronger note of panic in her voice, but she served only to entertain him. He wanted to fuck her then and there.

Dawn was still hardly aware of Amy, until the witch paced widdershins around the marble slab, and began to chant in a tongue unknown to vampire or victim.

“Hey, what the-!” Spike cried, as an unseen force gripped his body and threw him away from Dawn.

He took it for assault, a rescue attempt, until he saw that the Slayer’s sister was suspended cruciform above the cold black slab. It seemed Dawn had no control over her body, but her fingers and toes twitched as she tried to break free of the magic grip. All she needed to do was descend two inches to the slab. It proved impossible, and panic shone in the girl’s eyes. Amy stood before Dawn, still chanting, and withdrew a blade from within her robe. The sheath was strapped to her leg, though Spike couldn’t see that.

To Dawn, it felt as if invisible bandages were holding her aloft. She considered that it must be a sensation similar to mummification. The pressures on her chest meant she could breath only shallowly, and not draw enough even to try and curse the witch. Amy’s eyes were hidden from her, but it seemed the Witch smirked as her chanting rose higher. Dawn followed the curved blade the witch wielded as she swung it out to the side. Crimson sigils glowed brightly on the metal as the Witch completed the sacrificial spell with one, swift, slice.

There was no pain, save for a mildly discomforting tingling sensation in Dawn’s neck. She had a feeling of disorientation, as her body collapsed, but her head remained suspended in the air. There was no blood, no sudden gout of pressure released. Dawn could feel cold marble beneath her back, even though she had clearly been decapitated. Spike clapped, childishly amused at the trick, and wondering if it was illusion. A smoke and mirrors job.

“Spike, if you’re working up to any jokes about getting head, or getting ahead in life, I’d rather you didn’t.”

Amy’s voice was much hoarser than before. The witch was under strain from the magic force released around them. She sheathed the still-glowing blade, and reached for Dawn’s head. As she did so, gravity re-asserted itself and the surprisingly heavy prize dropped into the witch’s hands. Turning on the spot, Amy walked quickly to the roughly hewn pedestal, and sat Dawn’s still living head upon it. There was nary a drop of blood.

Dawn found that she could not draw the breath to form words, but could otherwise move her mouth, close her eyes, even wiggle her ears. Amy pulled the hair away from Dawn’s face, so it dangled down the back of the pedestal. She was pleased that, despite the trauma of decapitation, Dawn had not seemed to succumb to shock. It would be much more fun knowing she was aware of everything through the day ahead.

“Aren’t you lucky, Dawnie? You’re going to have the best view in the house when Buffy arrives. You’ll see everything when Spike and Angelus have their party tonight. You know, It’s already dawn out there, Dawn.”

“What’s the point of all this then?”

Spike had felt the pressure lift from his own body. He crouched besides the marble slab, and marvelled to see the bloody stump of Dawn’s neck, the rise and fall of her chest, all without extreme blood loss nor death. There were a few demons with the trick, certainly, but he’d never seen a spell that would make a girl do it.

“Dawn’s connection to the Slayer fuels the blood magic that will keep her sister powerless within the Cave, and prevent her escape. A rider on the sacrificial spell should also prevent any of her friends entering or interfering. I’ve never cast it before, but the book I was provided with said that usually the sacrificial victim would turn to dust when the spell faded.”

Amy patted Dawn on the head, and leaned around to see silent tears running down her cheeks. Though she’d avoided going into shock, it was all a bit much for her. Dawn could feel her body as if it were still attached, but with the unfamiliar sensation of cool air upon her neck stump. She concentrated, unable to see behind her, but willed her arm to move. Spike had the shock of his un-life when Dawn’s fingers grabbed his coat hem. He smashed his hand down hard against it. Dawn winced, feeling the pain transmitted from her fingers.

“Oh, you won’t be able to do more than bruise her flesh until the end, either.”

Amy’s voice had grown even raspier, harder to make out, perhaps less than human.

“The First thinks that because of Dawn’s mystical origins, the girl won’t turn to dust. Little Dawnie will stay, a living head, a freakshow, for eternity – or as much of it as will be left before the First Evil reclaims this pathetic world.”

“Are you alright?” Spike asked, not really concerned, “Only you seem to be swaying a bit. And you sound like a Dalek with a cold.”

Amy turned, and Spike was greeted with the site of a fleshy spear poking through her robe. The witch shrugged the azure fabric off, to stand utterly naked. A price of the spell; the mystical blade and sheath had bonded with the Witch, sunk into her flesh and formed her clitoris into a long, thick, penis substitute. Amy’s pussy was dripping wet, leaving her thighs a sticky mess. As Spike watched, a slit formed in the end of the clit-cock. Amy’s body was flushed red with desire and magical lust, and her dark nipples were harder than the vampire had seen in a while.

“Bloody Hell! I didn’t know you had any Thai in you,” Spike lit a cigarette as he spoke.

“You can watch, if you want, but don’t interfere. I must orgasm three times before this will wear off,” Amy explained, as she joined Dawn’s headless body upon the cold marble slab.

Dawn, unable to turn her head, hadn’t seen the witch’s grown clit. She felt Amy’s hands on her legs though, more evidence that she wasn’t imagining the feel of marble under her back, or the sensation of twitching muscles. She tried to will herself to slap Amy, but the weak hand motion only brushed the witch’s nipples. Dawn yelped silently as Amy’s fingers spread her soft bush, and probed her inexperienced snatch. She felt something else, pressing between her labia.

The sensation was entirely new to Amy. Her clit had become less sensitive as it grew, but simply touching it with her fingers was still enough to make her gasp. The end was oozing, not the clear liquid of human precum, but milkier fluid. Her own pussy, at the base of her shaft, was a lot wetter than Dawn’s unwilling cleft. She pressed the clitcock into Dawn, and moaned deeply as it slid into the teen’s body. Amy probed deeply into the girl, with the cock lubricating the way perfectly. Dawn’s uncoordinated struggles were barely a distraction. Amy pulled the girl’s legs up and over her own shoulders for better penetration.

Spike blew out a smoke ring as Amy began tentatively to fuck Dawn’s headless torso. She’d never fucked a girl like that before, but it wasn’t rocket science. Soon Dawn’s sweaty breasts rocked on her chest as Amy humped into her tight teen snatch. Amy’s clitcock thrilled to the feel of Dawn’s inexperienced hole clutching tightly around it. Every inch of skin provided equal pleasure to the witch, and she felt herself coming to orgasm quickly. The wet slapping penetration echoed around the cave, along with the witch’s increasingly loud hoarse groans.

There were no groans from poor Dawn’s silently working mouth, but the teenager’s face was flushed with forced arousal. The pleasure of the well-lubricated cockclit stretching and filling her was fast working towards making the Slayer’s little sister climax along with the witch who raped her. Still, Dawn held hope that Buffy would arrive soon and Willow would have the magic to put her head back on her neck. Dawn’s thoughts ran together, ‘Soon, Buffy to come… soon… come… I’m coming…’

Dawn’s body stiffened beneath Amy. The sudden contraction in her snatch was so sudden and hard that Amy couldn’t withdraw. The squeezing pleasure was too much for Amy, and with her loudest cry yet, the witch exploded. Her clitcock sprayed with inhuman pressure. Dawn felt the spray against her cervix, forcing through into her womb - even through the powerful pleasure exploding in her belly. Amy could actually feel the hot milky ejaculate pumping through the core of her clitcock, making the climax even more intense. Seeing stars, she stayed locked in Dawn’s pussy even as her jism sprayed out around the pulsing clitcock and splashed both their crotches.

“I just raped the Slayer’s sister,” Amy muttered, as if the idea was even more surprising than cutting the girl’s head from her body, “and I need more.”

Dawn was drooling onto the pedestal. Her tears had stopped falling from the edges of fluttering eyelids. Still hard, Amy flipped Dawn’s body over on the marble slab. She scooped some of the sperm pooling between Dawn’s thighs, and then worked a finger into her ass. Dawn recognised from the cold stone pressing against her breasts that her body was front down. The Slayer’s sister realized what was about to happen, but there was no way to prevent the violation of her one hundred per cent virginal asshole. Amy had one hand hooked under Dawn’s stomach to get her ass at the right height, so her neck stump was partly pressed against the marble. Still, not so much as a smear of blood came away.

The girl-less head concentrated hard on the pedestal. It took all of Dawn’s willpower, but she managed to scrabble for the edge of the marble slab, and try to pull away from the Witch. Amy laughed, suddenly, and then roughly forced her clitcock into Dawn’s ass. The sudden pain chased away the dregs of Dawn’s pleasure, and new tears started down the girl’s cheeks. Even with unnatural lubrication, the anal rape felt extremely painful.

Amy adjusted her grip, holding both sides of Dawn’s buttocks in her sticky fingers. It gave her the leverage she needed to force the rest of her clitcock into the tight, dry, confines of Dawn’s ass. Being completely unused to anal penetration, Dawn’s muscles fought the violation all the way, much to Amy’s pleasure. There was nothing of her earlier tentativeness in the rough humping Amy quickly settled into. She knew how the clitcock worked now, and enjoyed it immensely. Amy felt the only shame was that she couldn’t hear Dawn squeal.

Dawn could only wish the pain would lessen, which it did slightly as her ass was loosened and lubricated. The remote control she held over her body had grown slightly, but she could do nothing to shift Amy. The bucking she managed seemed only to spur the witch to thrust harder into her ass. Dawn couldn’t even do anything to make herself pass out, all she could do was take the pounding into her ass. Dawn Summers’ was headless, helpless fuckmeat.

Where Amy’s first climax had built up, her second came out of nowhere. It seemed to the witch as if some muscle twitched behind her clit, and then the pleasure exploded again. She collapsed on Dawn’s back, breasts pressed into soft smooth skin. The ejaculate sprayed even harder into Dawn’s ass, at least a gallon in the first few seconds. No human could ejaculate like that, but with the magic clitcock Amy wasn’t entirely human, and the source was more ectoplasmic than biological. None of which mattered to Dawn, who felt the hot blasts into her bowel through the agony of the rape.

When the witch recovered enough to become aware, she found she’d reached around and gripped tightly to Dawn’s breasts. Hard enough to bruise under normal circumstances, the spell left Dawn’s flesh merely reddened. The pain had been harsh, though, to a teenage girl unused to rough treatment of her chest. Amy withdrew from Dawn’s shaking butt with a pop, and an immediate spray of stained milky sperm. Still hard. One last orgasm to go.

“Are you going to fuck the stump?”

“Yes. Three orgasms.”

“Wow. You really do have some Thai in you.”

Amy’s voice had reduced to little more than croak. She could almost taste the magical discharge around the slab, and was certain some of it was leaking from Dawn’s gaping ass. The witch was drenched from head to toes in sweat, and very tired. Amy massaged her breasts for a moment, as if deciding how best to penetrate Dawn’s throat. Her clitcock was smeared with filth and sticky milky fluid, but she didn’t seem disturbed by it. Making her decision, Amy flipped Dawn’s body back over, and moved around to kneel at the girl’s neck.

Dawn’s flailing arms had an almost comic aspect as she was dis-oriented. It was more luck than anything that caused her to reach back over her stump and grab Amy’s breasts. Dawn tightened her grip, trying to hurt the witch. Amy was just too aroused, and penetrated Dawn’s stump with renewed energy. Despite the distance between head and body, Dawn tasted the foul mixture on Amy’s clitcock as it penetrated her neck stump.

“Oh Dawn! This is the best! Pinch my nipples!” Amy croaked.

Amy’s clitcock had grown longer, thicker and harder. She forced it deeper down Dawn’s throat than the most experienced porn star could have taken it. The painful stretching for Dawn meant incredible squeezing for Amy. She held Dawn’s hands to her tits as she fucked the headless girl’s throat like a woman possessed – though there was nothing powering the rape but Amy’s own magic and evil.

Dawn’s drooling mouth took on a milkier hue as precum was mystically transported across from her neck. Dawn’s gag reflex seemed to have stayed with her mouth, leaving Amy with a vomit free throat rape. The witch almost regretted her approaching climax, for it would deprive her of her clitcock.

“Shit! I feel like a sun is going to explode inside me, Spike. This is just too good!”

Spike had never fucked anyone’s neck stump before, not even a magically living one like the witch did in front of him. Still, it looked as much fun as anything he’d tried. He considered it a shame that most victims wouldn’t suffer through it before death. Maybe some female demon that could live without her head would be just the ticket. As the vampire weighed options, Amy’s neck humping had grown even more furiously fast.

“I’m coming Dawn!” Yes! Yes!”

Amy came for the third time, and the greatest quantity of ejaculate yet. There was no way Dawn’s tight throat could take it all, nor her stomach in one go. Rather than squirt out around Amy’s throbbing shaft as from her ass and snatch, the foul fluid sprayed from Dawn’s mouth. The salty, bitter taste flooded the girl’s senses as it poured down her chin and the pedestal below her head. Amy released her grip on Dawn’s hands. At the same time her clitcock shrank from Dawn’s neckstump, and the magic blade and sheath re-appeared strapped to the witch’s thigh.

There was silence on the ledge, but for Amy’s breathing. It was broken by an unexpectedly familiar voice.

“You know, little Dawnie’s head has to stay on that pedestal all day and all the night to make the spell work. I promised my loyal soldiers her body though. Three wet holes, breasts, even hands and feet. There are over fifty demons in the cave, going to have a turn. It’s going to be a wonderful party for both of them. Jelly and Ice Cream.”

The First Evil wore Drusilla’s form. Spike thought about all the payback he owed that particular dead bitch. Humiliating him, turning him into a lovelorn wreck. He’d cut holes in her and fuck them before she died, he decided. No chance of asking her back now. His sire’s arse was dust when he caught up with the crazy bitch. He’d remind her how evil he could be when riled, and then kill her. Then find a way to bring her back, and kill her again. The First Evil looked as if it could tell what Spike was thinking, and laughed Drusilla’s mad laugh.

“No Dawn for you, Spike. The first of them will be up in a minute or so, so you’ll just have to wait and see if the Slayer will choose to give you a piece first, or Angelus. It’ll be such fun, Spike, like tea and cakes and slaughter in the park.”

“Yeah, whatever. Do you have to be her? It gives me a terrible bloody urge to smash your head in. We both know that won’t get me anywhere.”

The First Evil used Drusilla’s pout.

“Help the witch down from here. She needs rest. I have other tasks for her, tasks she’s eager to perform. I promised her the boy, Xander, for spare parts. A most curious thing, she wants his skin.”

“Don’t get many ultimately evil humans. Too much time as a rat was it?”

“Oh know, dear Spike, It all goes back to her mum. You know what that’s like don’t you?”

The First laughed again. Spike gave her – it – two fingers. Still, he did as he was told again. The shot at a powerless Buffy was too good to pass up, even if it did mean taking a few jabs. He could always work out some frustration by killing a couple of the ‘loyal demons’ anyway. Spike helped Amy up, and back into her azure rope. The tired witch thanked him, and he heard her voice returned to normal. She lent against him as he led her back down the narrow passage from the ledge.

They re-entered the main cavern of the Cave of the Incantatrix. The first group of demons strode past them, all eager to abuse Dawn’s headless body. Amy motioned to one of the other passages away from the main cavern. Spike helped her towards it. As they crossed the cavern, Spike paused and looked up. He couldn’t see her body from the angle, but high on the pedestal he caught her gaze. Dawn’s tearful eyes widened as, behind her head, two demons positioned her weakly struggling body between their green bodies. Even separated by several feet of air, she felt the long scaly cocks thrust together into her.

It was going to be a long day for Dawn.

End of Part two
Feedback to joandoe@gmail.com

Content Codes (for part three): M+F, rape, nc, snuff, viol

Part three: It’s a Trap!


A late call from Los Angeles to say evil inter-dimensional lawyers have abducted your little sister will ruin a night for most girls and the Slayer was no exception. Buffy didn’t even blame Spike for the pair’s abduction; she simply took all the blame onto herself. Now, the Slayer and her allies had to wait until sundown that night with no way to get any updates unless Angel called again during the day. Though a few years back Dawn hadn’t even existed, the false reality and events since the coming of the vile evil Hell goddess Glorificus meant that Buffy saw Dawn as the closest family she had. Having to deal with Angel’s archenemies while also leading the fight against the awesome ancient power of the First Evil seemed an unnecessary extra burden.

There was Faith, at least, another fully paid up Slayer to help train the surviving potentials. Willow, too, the most powerful witch on Earth. Xander provided moral support and of course Andrew, who seemed to spend a lot of time doing housework. Well, Wood could handle himself. Then of course, Anya, human again, who seemed to be sticking around. Some of the potentials had proven themselves pretty handy too, so all in all and with Angel’s crew from Los Angeles, Buffy saw getting Dawn back as an easy job. After the intangible First, and fighting Bringers who seemed to feel no pain, it might be fun to smack some lawyers about and remind them why Slayers and Wolfram and Hart were not traditionally involved.

It was mid morning by the time Buffy came to that conclusion. At the same moment Dawn’s headless body was being roughly raped by three demons while vile spunk bubbled between her lips. High on her pedestal Dawn’s head still hoped her sister would arrive soon. Buffy hadn’t slept, and so, having checked that Faith was up and about she slipped to a quiet bed and lay down to sleep. In the back yard Faith drilled potentials through fighting combinations while Xander and Anya bickered. Buffy slept, and almost immediately dreamed.

The Slayer ‘stood’ from her bed. Outside the sky was a black, starless void. Buffy opened the door to the room and saw beyond the rough walls of a cave. Buffy stepped through and with dream logic the room disappeared behind her. The cave was familiar, but recognition hovered frustratingly beyond Buffy’s grasp. She realized she was dreaming, and had that gut twinge of a prophecy dream.

“Buffy!”

Dawn’s voice. She looked up to see her sister crouched on a ledge.

“Dawn? Come down!”

“It’s a trap, Buffy!”

“I know, Dawn. But I’m coming to get you out!”

“No! Don’t! The trap!”

“They won’t trap me.”

Dawn screamed then, and a blade pierced Buffy’s back and emerged between her breasts. Buffy looked down at the red sigils glowing on the metal, but there was no pain in the dream. A female voice in Buffy’s ear whispered,

“I’m the trap, and the trap builder, Bitch.”

Buffy awoke suddenly, sitting up so fast that her skull cracked against Faith’s. The reformed Slayer staggered back, rubbing at her forehead.

“Jesus, B! Red was going to break out some magic to get you up.”

Buffy rubbed her own head. The impact would have knocked normal girls unconscious and possibly fractured skulls, but the Slayers were made of sterner stuff. Faith wasn’t alone in Buffy’s room; there was Willow with a book of magic, and Xander, and Anya hovering at the back. Buffy realized it was almost sunset – the one dream had held her in its grasp for the entire day.

“I had a prophecy dream. I saw Dawn, and she tried to warn me that it was a trap.”

“Well, we already knew that,” Faith quipped, “Those Wolfram and Hart assholes are so twisted you could open bottles with them. I still feel dirty taking their dime that time.”

Willow closed the magic book. She looked more worried than Faith, knowing from bitter experience that Buffy’s dreams usually heralded terrible strife.

“First we thought you just needed the rest. Cranky Buffy isn’t as useful as rested Buffy, but then when Kennedy and I finished, uh, research the third time and you were still sleeping I tried to get you up, and you just wouldn’t come round.”

Outside, the sun went down fully. As if on cue, the phone rang. Buffy reached to the bedside table and answered it,

“Angel?”

“Sorry I couldn’t call you sooner. The vortex to the Wolfram and Hart holding dimension will open in the Cave of the Incantatrix, you know it, right? I patrolled there with you once.”

“Okay Whe-“

“Thirty minutes, and it’ll only be open for five, but maybe Willow could whip something up to keep it open longer. I’ll meet you there. Gotta run. Think I’m being followed.”

“Okay, damn, I can’t believe I slept all day. Right, Willow, ‘going to need your magic with this and we’ll take a couple of the potentials. Faith, you stay here with the rest in case the whole point of this little exercise in Dawn-napping and Spike-stealing is for the lawyers to get them or the house undefended.”

“Sure, B. We’ll hold the fort.”

“I’m coming with you,“ Xander said, “I want to make sure Dawn’s okay.”

Buffy looked like she was going to object, and then decided there wasn’t time and Xander’d probably sneak out and follow them anyway. They gathered weapons and left quickly. Anya watched them go, an uncomfortable feeling in her gut. Though she was no longer a demon, she retained an instinctual feeling for when vengeance would be needed. She wasn’t sure they’d be back, or at least, back whole and alive.

They took a car. It was quite a trek to the Cave, and Buffy didn’t want to miss the portal window. The downside was that besides Xander and Willow there was only room for Kennedy and Rona with their weapons. Rona, because the African-American girl was the best fighter, and Kennedy because she went everywhere with Willow and Willow could draw strength just from being with her. There was no talk in the car, although everyone was concerned for Dawn.


Angelus had not been inside the Cave yet. Most of the demons and the bringers were outside; hidden in the thick forest to cut off escape once the Slayer arrived, or to deal with any companions she brought with her. He wasn’t being overconfident. He knew that Buffy could fight like a beast even without her Slayer skills, but, still, he doubted she would give him any trouble if the sacrifice had worked. Angelus picked up from snatches of demon conversation that they’d been raping Dawn from sunup to sundown, only stopping to chain her cum drenched body to the cave wall as a trophy. A few held heavy chain nets in their hands, as they were apparently instructed to take Xander alive if Buffy brought him.

The First had been flitting in and out, changing appearance often. It had promised him that there were all kinds of things he could make use of In the Cave, but that the Slayer would have to be dead before the next dawn or there was too much chance she’d recover and heal fast enough to beat both vampires. Angelus heard the sound of an approaching engine. With Sunnydale a virtual ghost town, there hadn’t been many vehicles on the roads as far out as the Cave of the Incantatrix. The soulless vampire took a moment to set his face in ‘concerned’, oozing false compassion, and then moved to stand near the dark entrance of the cave.

The car skidded to a halt, and the five piled out quickly. With Rona, Kennedy and Xander bristling with weapons it was almost like a ‘Tarantino does the clown car gag’ moment. No sign of Faith, which had been a concern. Even with fifty demons and the Bringers, she might have been able to turn the tide and get Buffy out of the Cave. Angelus felt he owed Faith a visit as well, since it was down to her that Willow had had the chance to get the filthy soul back into him.

“Come on, there’s not much time! I’ve checked the place out, there’s a few demons around but they’re just living here, not making trouble. The real fight will be through the portal.”

“Why Dawn? I’ve never had any business with Wolfram and Hart!”

“They’re everywhere, across all the hell worlds. They decided they could use her dormant power to further their aims. I’m sorry you were involved – this is my fight. Don’t worry though, Fred calculated the portal and she’s a whiz at that stuff. You’ll be seeing Dawn again sooner than you think.”

Angelus nodded a greeting to the others, and then turned and headed into the cave. Buffy followed him immediately, not even noticing as she walked into the influence of the spell. She was familiar with the cave; although the last time she had visited there hadn’t been torches to light the way. The magic wall of the spell stopped Xander. He felt it press him back like a spongy barrier. In the moment of his confusion, Buffy and Angelus rounded the corner and were out of sight.

“What the hell?”

“C’mon, Xander, we’re on a clock here,” Kennedy complained, barely avoiding walking into him.

“There’s some kind of magic barrier.. Buffy! BUFFY! Wait up!”

Kennedy and Rona joined Xander at the mouth of the cave, testing the invisible barrier. They all pushed together, to no appreciable effect. Xander realised that Buffy and Angel hadn’t waited up or come back. He supposed that with the short period the portal would be open for, they maybe thought they couldn’t take the chance of missing it. He was so close to Rona he could smell her, and that was something he didn’t want to complicate things by thinking about.

“Stand back, this is a job for Willow!”

Willow gave the statement a ‘Superman’ inflection as she mentally prepared for the simplest and most common method of removing a magical barrier.

“It’s probably something left over from the old days when the Incantatrix was incanting Incantations. I can feel a lot of magic in the air here, some of it’s old and some of is new. Probably from the portal, or those demons Angel said were hanging out.”

Willow raised her arms and chanted in Latin. The words were abrupt and workmanlike, with the simple spell having been refined down to the bare bones over the centuries. In theory, there was no way it could go wrong – and it didn’t. The spell started to put a hole in the barrier, but as a direct result some of the magic in the barrier flowed back into Willow. A simple part of the give and take of all magic, and normally even the weakest Witch could just absorb it.

This magic was different; generated and re-enforced by Amy’s sacrifice of Dawn Summers. Everything she had suffered in the cave was magnified a dozen times in the barrier, and then Willow’s own sympathetic friendship bond magnified the suffering even more. The malignant energy hit Willow like a charging bull. It threw the witch from her feet so hard Willow’s shoes were left behind. She began screaming even before she hit the rough ground. The hole in the barrier sealed again invisibly.

“Willow!”

Willow had never felt anything like the agony that washed through her petite body. The pain was worst in her throat, pussy and ass as if a dozen red-hot pokers were being forced inside her through each. The magical backwash was so powerful it actually forced open her mouth as if a demon’s cock was plugging her throat, and within her panties her holes were similarly splayed. Echoes of Dawn’s multiple gangrapes repeated on Willow’s body. The witch looked like she was having a seizure, with her limbs shaking wildly. She was almost frothing at the mouth.

The other three were crowded around, trying to calm her and help her. Willow’s finger nails scratched Rona’s face, and the black girl swore.

“Shit! We need to get her real help!”

Kennedy was hysterical, trying to hold Willow’s head as it shook wildly, spreading her rich red hair about messily. They barely noticed the smell as Willow’s bowel and bladder voided under the intensity of the agony induced seizure, her bowel emptied extra-fast with the magic stretching it open wide.

“Buffy! BUFFY!” Xander tried again, but there was still no reply from within the cave. Tears showed in the man’s eyes.

Willow’s face was going red, while bloody cuts showed where she’d scraped her limbs on the rough ground. Dawn’s magnified agony was still channelling into Willow, growing into a crescendo until the witch lost consciousness. The apparent seizure continued as her brain was overwhelmed by pain signals.

“Way I hear it, round about now the Slayer’ll be getting tortured by them vampires. Not that I’d trust a vampire to that kind of work, normally. That leaves the four of you for us. Well, three of you. We ain’t allowed to hurt the boy none to much.”

The demons and the bringers had emerged from the trees around the cave mouth. They were all armed, Rona, Kennedy and Xander faced a very short fight indeed. Willow was in no position to help them and while her spasms had slowed a little, but it would still be hard to get her to the car and get away. None of them wanted to leave her to the Demon’s mercy.

“What about if we surrender?”

“Ain’t taking prisoners,” said the demon who’d spoken before, “Well... ‘cept the boy. Hell knows why, scrawny little shit. I wouldn’t even eat a rat-assed’n like that. Now you, bitch, you got some meat on your bones.”

Kennedy was on her knees beside Willow, still cradling her lover’s head. Willow’s chest was rising and falling fast, though the redhead was safe from pain in her unconsciousness. Tears ran down the potential’s cheeks as she lifted the axe she carried and stood beside Xander and Rona. They were brave; even with Willow in the grip a grand mal seizure.

Together, they charged, but the demons were ready and prepared and threw the heavy chain nets. Even working together, the three could not crawl from underneath the crushing weight; they could barely breath. The metal sparked with magic, and the three were shocked into unconsciousness. The demons closed in, smug in their superiority over the pathetic humans. Bringers, meanwhile, approached Willow. The First needed the witch destroying quickly, to prevent her magic from being used to free Buffy – the Slayer who could defeat her plans.

Willow’s clothing was stuck to her skin with sweat and voided filth, but the bringers tore it away easily. They almost entirely stripped her in their enthusiasm. One positioned his blade over Willow’s heart, feeling the muscle fighting beneath her pale skin. The voiceless minion pressed down, slicing through Willow’s pale pretty skin. It took the bringer’s unnatural strength to force the blade all the way into Willow’s heart. The witch was deep in her painful unconsciousness and didn’t feel it immediately, nor the second blade drawn along her throat. The Redhead’s lifeblood pumped into the dirt at the mouth of the cave, each wound fatal on its own. The Bringers sheathed their blades and stood.

They had no eyes to see as Willow’s own eyes flicked open, and narrowed. The witch had recently been at the mercy of a demon that paralysed her, and so had learned how to do healing magic that needed no speech. First, she calculated a way to block the echoes of Dawn’s pain still seeping from the barrier, and then cast a spell to mask her own pain. The witch could think clearly again. Willow’s wounds glowed green as they began to knit together. She raised a hand and threw fire at a Bringer’s head. It ignited like a Catherine wheel, but the First’s servant did not fall immediately.

Bringers swarmed the witch, soaking up magical fire as they stabbed her firm young flesh again and again. Blood splattered their ragged robes as the blades sliced through meat and fat, tendon and organs. A sweeping stab into Willow’s piss stinging cunt almost broke her concentration, though her magic masked much of the pain. The bringer twisted the blade, severing Willow’s clitoris as it withdrew the knife. Blood and piss mixed freely.

Willow’s eyes glowed with power drawn from the forest around them. Nearby trees withered and died, and birds dropped from the air. She closed her wounds as soon as they opened, but the pain and blood loss was getting too much. She prepared for a last desperate assault, when a demon pressed through the bringers with Kennedy’s axe held high. He brought the blade down in a hard sweep, and took Willow’s head from her neck. The light died in Willow’s eyes, but before the darkness took her she saw the demon raise the axe again. It came down brutally, bisecting her skull. Willows brains splashed the bringers, forming a halo around her red hair.

“A special reward for you,” said the First, appearing in Willow’s newly available appearance, “You can have her body all to yourself.”

“Thank you, Master. Her magic will make the flesh most piquant.”

“Good on you, big guy. Its certainly added flavour to her soul; if only she’d realised that being a witch and a lesbian meant the intolerant one would consign her spirit to my own grasp.”

Most of the other demons were keen to eat, but weren’t quite so exhausted by the earlier daylong gang rape of Dawn Summers. After some heated discussion around the chain nets, it was decided that Kennedy would be eaten immediately while Rona would be fuck meat for a while first. As the demons reached their decision, two Bringers silently grabbed Xander’s arms and dragged the limp human away. Unconscious, but unharmed – as requested.

An already prepared fire pit was un-covered and lit, while spit stands were set up. Kennedy was roughly stripped and held up by four demons as the spit was pressed into her cunt. They slapped the young lesbian’s face to rouse her, and she came around as the cold metal opened her up. The first thing the potential saw was flames leaping before her, as it quickly became apparent that she was naked and penetrated. Kennedy didn’t care for penetration one bit. She started to struggle, but there was no leverage against the four strong demons.

The demons had the strength and control to give Kennedy the spit slowly and smoothly. The potential screamed as the spit tore through her cervix and into her womb. The cold metal and hot pain felt wholly unnatural inside her. It suddenly grew worse as with no respite the demon’s strength punctured her womb and forced the cold metal into Kennedy’s guts. The demons were quite happy to eat her offal, and didn’t seek to eviscerate Kennedy before cooking. They simply spitted through her intestines and stomach, before punching the bloody cold spit into her chest cavity.

Kennedy screamed like a banshee as she was spitted. She felt the slow progress inside her as the pain grew more extreme with every inch travelled. Her punctured stomach leaked into her guts, adding acid pain to Kennedy’s suffering. Her screams turned to gurgles as the bloody pointed spit emerged between her teeth. Kennedy’s head was forced unnaturally back, allowing her to see along the spit as it was pushed through until a meat hook along it’s length pressed into her ass.

There was a lot of blood, both from Kennedy’s mouth and her cunt. The potential Slayer held onto life as her ankles and wrists were bound to the spit and her nude body was placed over the roaring fire pit. The flames licked Kennedy’s flesh as she experienced a fate traditionally associated with witches like her dead lover. She hoped she would die quickly, as she felt the fat in her breasts begin to heat up. A demon started turning the spit, ensuring Kennedy was cooked evenly all over. The world span about her eyes as her head was singed to baldness. Her blood hissed as it drained over the burning pit and finally Kennedy was granted the mercy of death just as her tits popped and burst fat over the hissing fire.

Rona knew she faced the same fate. The demons had had eagerly told her so when she came around, along with labouring the point that they were hungry for her holes more than her meat. They had stripped the potential slayer so quickly that her clothes were shredded, and lines were fading where the fabric had ripped against her dark skin. Rona struggled, cussing like a ghetto ho, but she was only human and they were many. There was more meat on her than Kennedy, but that just meant they’d be hungrier when it was time to eat.

A huge hairy demon gripped Rona’s arms just below her shoulders and pulled hard. She screamed as they audibly popped from the sockets. The demon lifted her high, letting her feel her body weight supported on her dislocated shoulders. Rona’s kicking legs were grabbed and held as the demons moved her ass back to the hairy demon’s huge cock. Rona’s screams grew higher and more urgent as the slimy head pressed between her hard athletic buttocks. There was no way her black ass could take it without her sphincter tearing, and so it proved.

Cackling and cheering, the demons hauled Rona’s broken ass on the demon’s dick. The length bulged her stomach out from behind as it sank deeper into her. Rona’s pain was far greater than Dawn’s had been with no magic to protect her mortal flesh, and her tight hot ass was close to bursting. Rona was beyond cursing, finding air only for screams to voice her agony. Each lungful brought her the sickly sweet smell of Kennedy’s roasting flesh.

Another demon stepped forward when she was sufficiently impaled. He wrapped her legs around his hips, scraping talons along her thighs. Blood dribbled from the slashes as he pressed his cock at her cunt. Rona was no virgin, not for a long time, but with the demon cock pressing into her ass and another huge one aimed for her cunt it was going to feel like it. The demon’s tongue, long and snakelike, slithered out to her tits. The black girl’s fear and suffering was all too tasty in her sweat.

Without further pause or any mercy at all, the demon forced it’s dry cockhead into her. Rona’s scream was almost silent, her eyes rolled up almost white. Her body bulged obscenely from within, internal injuries were certain. Rona had never known such pain was possible, but at least she knew she couldn’t last long. As the rape strokes began, the pain grew unbearably worse. Rona’s pink pussy was almost prolapsed by the cock raping her, so dry was it that the blood drawn seemed to stick her inner folds to the demon. The demons moved to their knees, so others could jerk off at Rona’s tits. Nasty demon jism rained down across her chocolate tits and screaming face as the rape continued until she was unconscious.


Xander awoke strung between two trees. He knew instantly where he was; Willow had killed Warren in the spot and position in which he hung. His face was still wet with tears, but his body was naked. He looked around for his clothes, and instead saw Amy the Witch, and another figure.
Warren, skinless Warren.

“Glad you’re awake, Xander. Would hate you to miss this part…”

“Buffy’s going to kick your ass, and yours… a second time.”

Xander’s voice held no hope, and they knew it. The villainous pair laughed, as Amy drew her ritual blade from within her azure robe. The red sigils glowed on its length, though there would be no call for her to take it within her this time.

“Come on, babe. I want his skin.”

“Scream Xander. We both like it,” Amy told Xander as she began to flay the skin from his face. As the blade cut an inch away, it faded from Xander and appeared on Warren.

Xander called for Buffy right to the end, but Buffy never came to help him.

End of Part Three
Feedback to joandoe@gmail.com

Content Codes (for part four): MM/F, F/F, incest, rape, nc, snuff, viol, rimming, bond, cream pie, magic, tort

Part Four: Summers’ End


As Buffy followed Angelus into the Cave of the Incantatrix she reflected that she should be leading “Angel”. Sunnydale was her turf, and she was the Slayer. She thought about mentioning it good naturedly as she stepped through the powerful barrier of the spell. She didn’t notice the change that came over her from Slayer to ordinary girl, just as she hadn’t immediately noticed the effect of the injections Giles’ once gave her. Buffy walked into the main cavern area and stopped dead.

“Buffy! BUFFY! Wait up!”

Xander’s voice, from outside the Cave. It didn’t register to the Slayer. Her eyes were locked on the cum-sodden headless body chained spread-eagled to the rock-face. Dawn’s gaping pussy was still draining steadily quite some time after the last demon had blasted her young womb. Her similarly loose ass was pressed into the jagged rock, while her perky tits were invisible under the heavy coating of demon filth, so much that the light bruising was completely invisible to the Slayer’s eyes. Dawn’s fingers twitched, though Buffy had seen similar spasms in headless corpses before.

There was no doubt in Buffy’s mind that it was Dawn’s body displayed like meat before her. The harrowing sight of the mutilated figure just about cut her in two; she hadn’t felt so mentally destroyed since finding her Mom’s body on the couch. Joyce had died almost painlessly though, while Buffy could all too easily envision the horrific torments visited on Dawn before her head was removed. The first of many tears started down her cheeks before a flicker of movement drew Buffy’s burry eyes upwards.

“DAWN!”

High above, Dawn’s head sat on the stone pedestal. She was moving her mouth, her tongue, flickering her eyes. The bodiless head was desperate to get her sister’s attention. She matched eyes with Buffy just as the Slayer registered the long trail of magically transported sperm Dawn had spat from her mouth during the long day. Dawn saw Spike emerge from a small cave-mouth to the side of Buffy, while Angelus had circled to a similar position. Both were visibly enjoying Buffy’s distress

“Get out,” Dawn silently mouthed, “It’s a trap. Run. Magic Trap. Go!”

“Dawn! I’ll get you down! Giles’ll know how to… to fix you… Oh Dawnie…”

“No! Behind You! Run!”

“Buffy! BUFFY!” Xander again.

The panic in his voice kicked through the haze of grief and hope. Buffy half-turned to see Spike and Angelus grinning evilly at her.

“Hey Buff. I thought Dawn would have grown since I saw her last. Seems shorter though.”

“Angelus?”

He nodded, accepting the name had Darla given him.

Buffy continued, “I’m going to kill you for real this time. You won’t get back from Hell.”

“You know Amy’s going to skin Xander alive? I always said nothing good would come of bloody feminism,” Spike interjected.

“Dying time boys. Hurting Dawn is a capital offence. I’m going Texas on you both.”

Buffy moved as if getting into a fighting stance, but instead just lashed out with her foot. Only humanly fast, Angelus caught the blow between his thighs. Buffy’s foot stopped a gnat’s wing from his testicles. He threw a punch back as her eyes registered surprise. Angelus purposely pulled the punch, wanting to keep Buffy awake. The blow was still brutal, smashing into Buffy’s left eye hard enough to make stars burst behind her vision. The pain was sudden and incredibly intense; no Slayer’s pain threshold remained to protect her.

The scream Buffy unwillingly unleashed was almost musical to the vampires. The blonde girl stumbled back clutching at her face, when Angelus released the grip on her leg. Spike moved quickly. He grabbed Buffy’s arms in a steel grip and wrenched them behind her back. Buffy found she couldn’t even twist a decent judo throw. Her eye was already swelling and bruising. It would be a classic shiner before long. She was deathly afraid, suddenly, but hoped the apparently soulless vampires would mess up, that she’d have a way to gain her strength again. Hopefully it would be as simple as the time she smashed Warren’s ‘balls’.

Spike pressed Buffy’s forearms together in his iron grip, while Angelus pulled a spoil of barbed wire from his coat pocket. Pre-cut to length, the razor sharp spines ripped Buffy’s top and drew blood from the tanned skin beneath. Angelus wrapped it tightly around her forearms, like rope but far crueller. Buffy grunted as the wire tightened against her skin. Angelus twisted the ends to secure the arm binding. Together, Spike and Angelus pressed Buffy down to her knees on the jagged floor of the cave.

Dawn silently prayed. She did not know if any god or goddess could hear, but still she prayed. She was helpless, still feeling the aching pain of her body. The hours of rape had worn at Dawn’s mind, yet the separation of head from body had ironically preserved her from the full mental trauma. She could see that her older sister was equally helpless, weak before the powerful vampires. About to become a real victim.

“Well, Buff. It seems the First Evil has some problems with you and let me tell you, Spike and I can sympathise. Really we can, right Spike?”

“Yeah, too bloody right.”

“She, well, It also – you’ll like this, it’s funny – wants to know whether you’d choose Spike here, or me. It’s funny because we’ve got so much history there’s no way you’d choose him.”

“Hang on a minute, Angelus. You shagged her what, once? And that wasn’t even you! That was the girly-man poof. I’ve ridden Buffy more times than the Welsh have fucked sheep, mate. You name just about anywhere in Sunnydale, and I’ve done her in it. Tradesman’s too, mate.”

“Oh, Boys. Am I going to have to listen to you to flirt all night? Why not go somewhere and have a kiss and cuddle. I’ll sit here and wait.” Buffy hid her fear. She wasn’t used to being afraid, but she was used to being in control. She clung to it.

“Despite what the hair might make you think, Spike’s not that kind of boy,” Angelus shot back, “Come on Buff. It’s a simple choice. All you had with him was good old ‘back from the dead grudge-fornication,’ right? But our hatred means something! Our hatred is deep! I hate you so much that making sure you’re dead as early as next sunrise is going to take effort; it’s a job I’d rather have months on.”

“Hold on Angelus! The worst you ever did in Sunnydale was kill a teacher and some fish. Fish, mate. I brought the little bit up there to this cave so she could be raped all day by demons hung like a smaller me. I made Buffy hate herself so much every time I fucked her. Plus, I’m a lot better looking than you.”

“I wouldn’t pick either of you. How could I choose between two such repulsive specimens? I’d rather go to bed with Clem and… and Willie!”

“Ouch,” Spike sighed theatrically.

Buffy winced as she tugged on her bound arms. The metal barbs tore stingingly into her skin; even if she pulled hard, the wire was too tight to slip free from. Already there were pins and needles in Buffy’s fingers from the partially constricted blood flow. She stopped tugging, looking up at the vampires through one good eye and one eye swollen almost shut. If she’d been at full power she wouldn’t even have a bruise on her face.

“I think I know what the problem is,” Angelus grinned, “this necrophiliac slut here doesn’t want to choose between two undead creatures of the night. She’s hungry for both of us to give it to her good and hard. She wants it so rough it’d be rape, except she’s so obviously willing. Can’t rape the willing, as they say.”

“You’ve hit the nail on the head there. Let’s give Sunnydale’s vampire bicycle the best seeing too she’s ever had.”

Buffy looked from one to the other as they started to strip off their clothes. She waited until they were pulling their shirts off, and then managed to stumble to her feet. The barbed wire tore into her flesh as she twisted and ran for the cave exit, hating that she was leaving Dawn but knowing she would need reinforcements.

They caught her before she’d even run three feet, and dragged her struggling body to the floor of the cave. Buffy’s top came apart in Spike’s hands as he tore it from her body. Shredded strips hanging from the barbed wire were all that remained. Angelus had his hands around Buffy’s small waist, ripping her pants open, and then tugging them down. Buffy struggled harder, almost crying with rage and frustration at being so helpless in the hands of her foes.

Angelus tugged Buffy’s hardy footwear loose, and then finished stripping her pants. He ran his hands lustfully up her toned legs to her perfect ass. Buffy grunted as Angelus dove in. The vampire pressed his face between Buffy’s buttocks and flicked his tongue on her tight rosebud. Nobody had ever rimmed Buffy before; she felt dirty even though it was forced. Meanwhile, Spike had torn off her sports bra and mauled her breasts.

“I fancy a tit wank, Buffy. Will you oblige?”

“Kill yourself, Spike.”

“Oh well, pet. Have to do it myself then.”

The vampires twisted the stripped Slayer between then until Buffy’s arms were pressed between her back and the cave floor. The barbs dug in just above the curve of her buttocks, and her arms supported her ass. Angelus easily controlled her kicking legs, holding them high up before him as he continued lathering her asshole with saliva. He prodded his tongue inside the tight ring, feeling Buffy try to clench and keep him out.

Spike finished stripping himself off except, in traditional Englishman style, his socks. He positioned his arse over Buffy’s face and pressed his cock in the small valley of her breasts. Pressing the flesh together he thrust between them, enjoying the soft sensations on his skin. Buffy screwed her eyes up, willing the humiliation to end; of course, it didn’t. Angelus’ tongue felt too good, but Spike’s rough mauling of her tits was overpowering the pleasure. They were already showing bruising, but all the British vampire did was thrust faster and harder.

“Aren’t you tired of kissing the Slayer’s arse, Angelus? It’s been six or seven years!”

Angelus growled, and yanked down his own pants with one hand. Naked, he pulled Buffy’s legs to go up on his shoulders. He felt Buffy’s struggles increase as he pressed his bloated undead cock against her saliva-slick anus. Pushing with vampire strength, he opened her up and slid inside. She was tight, even past her sphincter, and Angelus knew that he was in for a good pleasurable ride. Where only Spike had gone before.

“NO!” Buffy screamed.

When Spike had fucked her in the ass, it had always been with heavy lubrication and consensual, if not loving. When Angelus sawed into her rectum, Buffy fought him all the way and felt terrible pain as a result. Fresh tears sprang from Slayer’s eyes as the most hated man in her world brutally violated her. Spike’s body shifted and she realised he was scooting back. Suddenly his semen splattered across her face. Her black eye stung as Spike made sure to spray a wad of semen into it.

Spraying over a Slayer’s crying face as she was anally raped ranked high in the best moments of Spike’s vampire career. He wrapped Buffy’s blonde hair around his shaft and wiped away the last of his discharge as he admired his handprint bruises on the pale skin of Buffy’s breasts. There had to be more they could do with those breasts; as they shook under the force of Angelus’ thrusts Spike imagined skinning them, as Amy was to flay Xander. Then he thought about hanging Buffy from them by barbed wire, or just shoving nails into them. All options were available in the Cave of the Incantatrix.

Buffy’s back was a pattern of pain. Between the barbed wire around her forearms, and the rough stone tearing into her skin, it felt like she was being flogged as she was raped. Her ass had adjusted a little to the powerful rape thrusts, as blood and shit lubricated Angelus’ cock. Buffy felt his fingers on her pussy, pawing her light blonde bush. He brushed her clit, and then pinched it hard.

A fresh scream ripped free from Buffy’s mouth. Angelus grinned and pinched harder. Buffy’s sphincter constricted wonderfully around his cock-head as he almost pulled out, and then he thrust in one last time. Angelus came hard into the screaming Slayer’s spasming ass. Buffy felt Angelus’ jerky body movements and knew he’d climaxed. She hoped it meant there would be some respite before the next degradation as she cried Spike’s semen from her eye.

“Have a look at this, Angelus.”

Spike had walked away while Angelus had finished his fun, and now held a pair of pliers in one hand and a small bowl of green ointment in the other. Angelus pulled out from Buffy’s ass. A thin trail of bloody semen leaked from the gaping hole. He kept his grip on her legs as he stood, not willing to risk another escape attempt.

“Great! Pliers! What’s with the guacamole dip? I’m more of a spicy sauce guy.”

“We pull out all of her teeth, ‘cept the canines. We rub this into the gums. After we turn the little cum bucket, she’ll only have fangs. No other teeth. Better for blow jobs!”

Buffy felt a fresh pang of fear in her gut. She’d realised she was to be raped and tortured, but the thought of being turned into a vampire was her worst nightmare. The Slayer had faced death before, but un-death was too much. Too horrible. At least with Faith back in the fold, there was a chance of a quick death after rising again.

“So, we tossing a coin on who gets to play dentist?”

“No, you can have this one. I’ll kneel here and sit her on my dick. Give her a good length in her cunt while you’re taking her teeth out.”

Angelus shifted his grip, and pulled Buffy’s sticky hair instead of her legs. As he forced the Slayer up onto her knees, he followed Spike’s example and cleaned off his cock in her blonde strands. Blonde hair really was the best for cleaning off filthy cocks, he thought, deciding it was no doubt why so many whores were blonde. Spike came and knelt behind her, and took a moment to lick the blood on her back. His cock was rigid again as he handed the pliers and ointment to Angelus, who put the ointment aside. Spike lifted Buffy by her hips, so he could pull her up and back until her bush rubbed against his cock.

“You like it from behind, don’t you, Buffy?”

“When I get out of this, Spike, I’m going to get Giles to find the nastiest, most evil group of demon torturers in the world. And pay them to work on you.”

Spike slid into Buffy’s cunt in reply.

“Bloody Hell! This slut is wetter than a Welsh holiday resort!”

“Would you quit bashing the Welsh? They’re not as classy as the Irish, but they aren’t as bad as all that.”

Angelus stood before them. There was still a lot of fire and fight in the Slayer’s eyes. He could smell human flesh cooking on the night air. He hoped she noticed soon, and realised what it meant. With full Slayer strength working against him, Angelus could never have forced Buffy’s mouth open. As weak as she was, it was easy. She screamed as he gripped her front two teeth in the pliers and pulled hard. Spike groaned as her cunt gripped his cock in sudden pain spasms.

Angelus held the pliers before Buffy’s eyes, letting her see two blood spotted white teeth. He raised them to his mouth and tasted her blood from them. Spike was easily humping into her cunt without his hands now, so he reached around and held Buffy’s jaw open for Angelus. The vindictive vampire removed the screaming blonde’s teeth. He worked slowly and sadistically, stopping to lick blood from her chin and mouth in a sick parody of a kiss. Buffy’s curses grew incoherent as her mouth lost definition.

When she was down to her canines, Angelus instead caught Buffy’s left nipple with the blood slick tool. He squeezed, stretching her breast, but stopped short of trying to pull it off. Angelus tossed the pliers aside and reached for the ointment. It stung terribly, worse than Spike’s semen splashing her eyes, but stopped the bleeding immediately. Angelus pressed into Buffy’s sore gums with his fingers, drawing fresh cries from the weakened girl. As soon as the ointment was applied, Angelus threw it aside and pressed his length into her mouth.

“Can you believe I never even got a blow job off this bitch before?”

“I did!” Spike chuckled, as Angelus’ cock plugged Buffy’s cries.

Angelus didn’t give Buffy any time to adjust to his hard cock, he simply forced it down her throat until his balls slapped into her blood-sticky chin. Angelus held Buffy’s nose shut as he started his thrusts into her mouth. He made sure not to withdraw enough that she could breath. Spike bounced her on his knee for the slower vaginal rape.

“Oh yeah, Buff! Your throat is so hot, and tight. It beats your ass! How’d you get so good at cocksucking, Buffy? Special Slayer training from Rupert? Is there a Watcher’s diary special on getting potential Slayers to ‘throat cock?”

Buffy’s face grew darker as Angelus sadistically raped her throat. She couldn’t breathe; there was no air coming into her lungs. They burned in her chest, throbbing in time with her head and her heart. Her nipples stood out hard on her flushed chest, and Buffy realised hazily that her oxygen-deprived brain was generating something akin to pleasure. It was an extreme form of breath-play, but it was getting her off. Her cunt was juicing up around Spike’s dick, and he felt the beginnings of contractions deep inside her body.

“Holy shit! The slut really is getting off on it!”

Angelus didn’t have a comment to make. He was too busy enjoying the panicked look visible in Buffy’s glazing eyes as he raped her pretty face. Blood vessels had burst under the skin of Buffy’s face, giving it a rash-look. If ever a Slayer was born to take vampire cock it was Buffy Summers. All told, not many Slayers had been raped to death. Angelus saw Spike reach around, pawing for Buffy’s rigidly aroused clit. He rubbed it with his fingers, masturbating the asphyxiating Slayer to an orgasm at the point of death.

Buffy came. Too weak even to scream around the cock in her gullet. The evil pleasure tore through her body, blotting out the pain, the suffering, even the memory of her friends. Stars exploded in Buffy’s head, almost sending her into unconsciousness. Through her good eye and swollen eye, she saw Angelus’s face twist with pleasure. She was dimly aware of him climaxing, spraying his load down into her stomach. She was equally aware of Spike, calling her a slut and a whore as he sprayed her cunt with his own load.

Then the pleasure stopped. Instantly. Jerking with pleasure, Spike’s cold, dead, vampire fingers had torn Buffy’s clit away. The agony blew Buffy’s mind. She mewled like a kitten as Angelus pulled from her throat. Spike pulled out too, and shoved her roughly forward. Buffy curled as best she could into a foetal ball and cried like a child. Blood trickled down her thigh to the dirty floor.

“See, Spike, I’d have left her clit ‘til later. We could have nailed it to something.”

Spike popped the bloody nub into his mouth. He chewed the bloody flesh between his teeth and then swallowed.

“Sod it. She was having too much fun. Total slut, I grant you, she got off before I did it!”

“We ought to bring Dawn down for a closer look.”

“Can’t do that. Break the spell.”

“Where’s your sense of danger, Spike?”

Once, the overhearing that taking Dawn’s head from the pedestal could break the spell would have spurred Buffy Summers into a desperate bid for freedom, but it seemed as if an essential spark of her femininity had been torn away with her clitoris. She didn’t even react to the vampires’ words. They dragged the limb blonde over to where Dawn’s body was chained spread-eagled to the wall. They pushed her almost toothless mouth against the headless body’s cum-leaking cunt, and rubbed her face into the mess. They made her service her sister.

Buffy’s motions were mechanical, done to avoid more torturous pain. She licked the crusted filth away from Dawn’s snatch. She swallowed down gobbets of demon semen from her sister’s much-abused fuckhole. Dawn could not see her body from the pedestal, but she felt the tongue, and the pleasure. She gasped silently as Buffy licked and sucked her. Soon, fresh juices stained Buffy’s face, and her sister’s cunt shivered and squirted weakly into the Slayer’s mouth.

“Willow would have been proud, Buff! You lick cunt like a pro dyke! No wonder you didn’t want to choose between Spike and me.”

Buffy didn’t try to meet Dawn’s gaze as they pulled her back away from the rock wall. The vampires had learned a lot of positions in the long decades of their un-lives. They treated Buffy to most of them during the long hours until dawn. Buffy’s body bounced on the vicious thrusts of the vampires. The petite blonde was reduced to screaming through swollen, bruised lips. When she had given up her virginity to Angel, the act had been gentle and loving. During the brutal rape, he sawed into her bleeding cunt with all the force of a stake to the heart.

Sometimes, they took turns rather than double teaming her. Spike fucked Buffy hard up the arse while Angelus suckled one of Buffy’s sweaty nipples into his mouth. He drew the sensitive nub to hardness, and then tore it from Buffy’s breast with his teeth. Blood ran down Buffy’s chest as Angelus lapped at the wound, careful not to bite in and drain too deep. They didn’t want the Slayer to die until just before morning came, but she could take all the pain they had to give until then.

Buffy’s last spike of defiance died when the First joined her torment. It appeared as Willow, knife wounds fresh and leaking. It appeared as Kennedy, unrecognisably burned to a crisp. It appeared as Xander, skinless and castrated, screaming abuse at Buffy for letting him die. She couldn’t look away from the gouged sockets of his face, even knowing it wasn’t really the ghost of her friend. She mumbled incoherent apologies to the First’s apparitions even as Spike and Angelus wrapped barbed wire around her breasts and took turns lifting her from the floor until they nearly tore from her chest.

As morning approached, Dawn felt her body start to tingle and ache. She recalled that she was supposed to die when morning came, but that with her unique nature she might survive. Unable to look away all night, she stared down at Buffy’s increasingly recognisable face and brutalised body.

In the last hour before morning, the vampires had suspended The Slayer from a hook high on the ceiling, by chains that pulled her forearms back. The weight of her body had dislocated her shoulders, and her feet hung an inch or so from the ground. Dawn could see Angelus and Spike as they weakly ploughed the Slayer a final time. Her holes were so badly stretched and torn they had double penetrated her ass to get enough friction to make it worth the effort. Their cocks rubbed together in the Slayer’s rectum.


Buffy had been to heaven, once, but in that long night she’d found truly what it was to live in hell. Angelus and Spike’s cold bodies pressed closely against hers. The First stood nearby, watching eagerly as they prepared to end her life. Climaxing final times into Buffy’s body, Spike bit into her neck from behind while Angelus bit into Buffy’s breast. The Slayer didn’t even feel the bites, but her blood flowed easily into the stomachs of the vampires; that blood which hadn’t already splattered into the dirt.

Dawn could see her sister was so close to death as Spike unhooked her from the chain and dropped her on the floor. Each vampire fed her his own blood, ensuring that when the next night came, Buffy would rise again as a vampire. She would be their eternal fuck toy, a cum dumpster until Judgement Day – or later, if they got out to one of the Hell worlds before the First evil ended humanity. Buffy died in the dirt, covered in filth. Even her blonde hair was matted with blood and spunk, so much that it was impossible to tell the true colour.

Outside, the sun began to rise.

Dawn’s body crumbled to dust instantly. There was no pain in the brief moment as the magic departed. Her head remained on the pedestal. The key that she truly was – even if many thought that aspect of her buried forever with the defeat of Glorificus - could not be destroyed by any little spell worked by the likes of Amy. Shorn of her body forever, Dawn, the Key, watched sadly as Spike and Angelus dumped Buffy’s body like a sack of dirt in the corner of the Cave of the Incantatrix, and sought their own rest.

Nobody paid attention to her, but she realised she could already feel the true extent of her power. A little fold of reality would put her on the table where Giles sat, anxiously awaiting Buffy’s return. Then, she could master her ancient power with her brand new personality. The First would fall before a Summers’ girl after all.

There would be vengeance.

The End.
Feedback to joandoe@gmail.com

wtf, nobody commented on this yet????

Epic, just like any other JD's stuff. I love it, even though i'm not a btvs fan.

Really f'king well done.

oohh, by the way, if you could add in some brainfuck elements. I know its my personal liking but i'm sure JD can make wonderful brainfuck stories. =P

Not really into Buffy, but still wonderfully hot. Yummy!

Thank you guys!

I'll maybe try for a brainfuck if/when I write again. Seems to get harder and harder every time I write.

brainfuck!

>>8

Keep on going, your stories are good