The stench of blood filled the room as Spike set the long black whip down on the wooden bench. He leaned back against the wall, tugging the front of his T-shirt loose from his sweaty skin. Reaching into the jacket, also on the bench, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, letting the soothing nicotine flood his system.

"S…Spike?"

With a sigh, he opened one eye to peek over at her, trying not to let her notice his interest.

"Spike?" Her voice was stronger and he could tell she knew he was watching. Pushing away from the wall, he walked over to her.

Her hands were tied behind her back and hooked to a meat hook that hung from the ceiling. Her dainty feet dangled off the floor a good foot and he knew her shoulders must be close to snapping out of their sockets, if they hadn't already. She'd cried out several times as he'd lashed her, so he may have missed the telltale snapping.

Her naked body hung there, hunched over, blood oozing from the wounds he'd inflicted with the razor sharp whip. Long streaks of red covered her back, ass and legs and trickles of blood danced along the moonlight pale flesh.

"What is it, love?"

"Give me a push?"

His hand tilted her face up and her blue-green eyes danced before him. Her lips were caked with dried blood and her tongue was still slightly swollen. "You want to swing?"

She managed a weak nod. He ran his hand down her neck and over her chest, pausing to squeeze her nipple. His nails dug into her tender flesh and she cried out in a mixture of agony and ecstasy. His hand continued down, touching the shaved white mound between her legs. Her odd position had allowed the mixture of blood and orgasm to cover it and he bathed his hand in the juices while she gasped happily.

Lifting his hand to his mouth, he licked one finger. She mewled softly, and he walked back to lift up her chin. "Hungry?"

"Yes."

He placed his hand against her lips and she flinched. He started to draw it away, but her soft cry stopped him.

"I'm sorry. I'll taste it. I'll be good." Her mouth wrapped around his fingers, taking them deep in her throat, licking them clean. When she finished, he pulled his hand away and walked around behind her.

The whip marks were like red highlights on her white skin and he traced them with a loving finger. She whimpered softly as he did so, wiggling slightly. He placed both hands firmly against her ass and gave her a light push. She laughed softly, quietly and he wondered at the sound. Perhaps more of a cry than a laugh?

Walking around in front of her again, he pushed on her aching shoulders and sent her back. On her forward swing, she used all her strength and contorted her body, catching him off guard. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she clung to him.

Her dark hair fell crazily around her face and her eyes were wild. "I've got you now."

"You're still the one who's tied up, love."

"Only because I want to be." She straightened, thrusting her pert breasts into his face. "Princess has forgiven you now, Spike. Let me show you how much?"

"I don't know, love."

Her eyes narrowed and venom filled her voice. "Is it the Slayer? Or the witch?" Her growl preceded the quick snapping of her jaw as her head lunged forward toward his. "Which little bitch are you with now in your head? Come back to me, Spike."

"I'm right here, Dru."

"No you're not. You're off with the Slayer and her friends and my Angel." Her smile grew feral. "My Angel."

He grabbed her throat and squeezed, knowing that he would do no lasting damage. He raised her up until she was forced to loosen the grip of her legs or lose the battle between him and her spinal cord. "You want your fucking Angel?"

"I want my Daddy here with me. Won't you be my Daddy, Spike?" Her smile faded back to one of childlike innocence. "Your princess needs her Daddy."

"Angel's dead to us now, Dru. He's got his bloody soul, just like he wanted. He's got his precious Slayer and her friends. Have I got you?" His cigarette dangled forgotten from his lips, still burning easily. Taking it with one hand, he pressed it to the flesh directly above her nipple. "I said, have I got you?"

She arched back as the skin sizzled, giving herself over to the orgasm that came with the pain. She wrapped her legs back around him, pressing her wet sex against him. "You can have me if you take me, Spike. Make me your Princess again?"

"I'm not untying you pet, I don't trust you an inch."

"More than an inch? Please?"

He laughed and reached back to unhook her legs. She let go of him, swinging back into position. Moving a ways away, Spike unhooked the chain from the wall and lowered her slightly. As he walked back towards her, he undid the fly of his leather pants and pulled out his hard cock.

Punishing her always gave him the most amazing hard-on. Standing behind her, he slit his wrist with his teeth and let the blood flow over his erection. Rubbing it over his flesh, he pressed the tip of his cock to her dripping pussy. "You want me, Princess?"

"So badly."

He moved the tip upwards so that it pressed against her tight anus. "How badly?"

"It's not ladylike," she began, protesting his decision. His hands grabbed her ass and forced the flesh apart as he slid inside her deeply and quickly. She cried out, the rapidly drying blood serving as a poor lubricant. "Spike!"

He held her hips and pulled her back to him forcefully. She continued to cry out as he pumped inside her, his cock seeming to grow even bigger as she screamed. Taking a small measure of pity on her, Spike reached around and took her clit between his thumb and forefinger and rolled it around.

The hard nub was wet and slippery in his grasp, but he continued to torture her with a gentle rolling motion that belied his rapid, painful thrusts. Her soft cries were like an aphrodisiac as he continued to force himself deeper and deeper inside her tight passage.

Spike felt his cock begin to swell and he pinched her clitoris hard. Drusilla screamed his name and covered his fingers with her orgasm as he shot his cool semen inside her. Holding her hips again, he thrust her against him one last time. "Who's your Daddy, Princess."

"You are Spike."

He pulled out quickly, eliciting another cry. Picking up a small wooden paddle with holes drilled in it; he pulled his arm back before swinging it forward. Her body tensed as the sound reached her ears, making the blow hurt all that much more.

"Remember it, love. I'd hate to have to do this again."

She turned her head and smiled at him. "Liar."