The Altar of His Madness

Home : Stories by Author : Stories by Laure Alexander : The Altar of His Madness

Summary: Set sometime after "Lessons" but as if the rest of the episodes of season seven didn't happen. Dawn is 16 in this fic and Spike's nuttier than a fruitcake. I'm having a blast writing him that way. If Spike/Dawn squicks you, don't go any farther. If you choose to read, it's from alternating POVs.

AUTHOR: Laure Alexander
EMAIL: lara@sunflower.com
RATING: NC-17
PAIRINGS: Spike/Dawn
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any of the characters on the show. Joss Whedon and the WB Network own them (for now). No copyright infringement intended, so please don't sue.
BIG WARNING: This is a Dawn/Spike adult fic. I believe she is 16 which, though illegal in California, is not illegal where this fic was written. It is not a romance fic, though it's not violent either. It just is. If the idea of them squicks you, don't read; if you think she's underage, don't read. And, yes, I'm still a huge believer in Buffy/Spike...I just saw this as a possibility.
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This...this isn't happening.

'I'm a rude, bad man.'

But this is just wrong, wrong, wrong.

I can't stop, though. Too late, too late. Always too late and a dollar short and I couldn't stop the Doc and I couldn't save Buffy and I can't stop this.

She's crying beneath me.

'You're beneath me.'

Whimpering and trying to be brave. Her slender hands, the nails painted a pretty pearlescent pink, are tight on my shoulders beneath my open shirt. Her eyes are squeezed shut. Little gasps emanate from between her parted red lips.

I'm hurting her.

'We always hurt the ones we love.'

The voices of the past haunt me as I take her, thrust and retreat, grind and buck.

She wanted this, though.

Found me and yelled at me and hit me and kissed me.

And then her shirt was off and her hands were under her skirt pulling down her purple silky panties that smelled so rich with her arousal, and she was guiding my hands to her little breasts and breathing, 'I want you,' and 'Give me what I need'.

And I could never say 'no' to them, these women, these Summers' women.

It's so wrong, though. I knew the instant she kissed me. I'll burn in hell for this alone.

But, she's so sweet and I'm so lonely and lost.

I want to be lost in her.

*****

I came down here to explore, to see if there are any traces of anything Hellmouthy. I didn't expect to find him.

Certainly not like this.

He's insane.

My heart broke when I realized it, and I hugged him and then I yelled at him, brought up the near rape of my sister, and then I hit him.

He took it all, pressed against the wall, jaw tight, eyes fixed on nothing. Like he deserved it.

Like he deserves this madness that grips him.

I couldn't stand to see him like that. So unlike his real self.

So...

I kissed him.

It was supposed to be a light thing, a calming thing, an accepting thing, but...

Fireworks...

I know why she was drawn to him, why she couldn't help herself. His mouth--cool with a fire that burns so deep, slightly bitter yet sweet.

I could taste the blood.

It fired my senses like nothing ever has. My mind short circuited and all I knew was need. I clung to him and I babbled and cajoled and begged him to take me.

And he did.

And I knew right away that it was wrong. The pain that replaced the pleasure told me that.

What the hell am I doing?

He loves my sister. I don't love him. I mean, I do, but not like this. I don't know what I'm doing.

I can feel him moving harder in me, erratically, and I wince at the jabs of pain and the coldness of the cement floor beneath my butt. His eyes are clenched shut, his nostrils flaring, and I tighten my hold on his shoulders.

Will it be over soon?

Can I make it be over sooner?

It hurts.

*****

Oh Christ, she's moving beneath me, arching her little hips upwards, and I know it's hurting her more. Her whimpers are driving me crazy.

Crazier.

She's not getting any pleasure, but then neither am I. Just a release. A release from tension and pain and sorrow and this damn soul and oh god make it stop!

*****

Oh, please please please make it stop soon. Where's the damn pleasure all those silly romance novels lead us to believe exists after the initial pain? All I feel is cold and bruised and like someone's shoving a log inside me.

"'Bit?" he whispers, his face hovering above mine, his eyes now open.

I look away. Don't talk to me, just finish, please!

"Sorry, 'Bit, sorry, sorry, hurting you, hurting me, but you asked to be fucked and this is fucking and it's hard and painful and...why Dawn?"

I bite into my lower lip and press my knees against his sides, drawing him down so my breasts rub against his chest. He sighs and buries his face in the crook of my shoulder, and then he's heaving over me and something cold and sticky fills me.

Oh God, is it over?

*****

I rise to my knees. I tuck myself away, fasten my trousers, try to ignore the blood and cum staining my fingers. Lick them and watch her eyes widen.

In disgust?

In interest?

Swallow hard, pull down her skirt, stumble away to the nearest corner and retch up my last meal of rat blood.

I fucked Dawn.

Someone kill me, please.

*****

He's...crying.

Now that he's done puking--and, gross, blood.

Some of it mine.

Why did watching him lick my blood from his fingers send a tingle through me? Why now, when it's over?

I feel...messy. I didn't know sex was messy. PG13 movies and Harlequin romances really don't prepare a girl for the truth.

And...ow...

How long's it going to hurt?

Sitting up, I fumble with the front clasp of my bra, then the buttons of my shirt, my fingers feeling like fat sausages. I can feel something leaking from me. I'm sitting in a pool of...I don't want to think about it.

And he's still crying.

Curled in a ball in the corner, his hands over his head, rocking slightly.

I think...

I think I may have hurt him more than he did me.

*****

No! Don't touch me. Don't comfort me. Don't deserve it. Horrid, evil, monster. Just proved it.

Fucked Dawn, sweet Dawn, still a child, her sister's child, all brains and mouth and big eyes.

"It's not your fault," she croons, her fingers stroking my shoulders as I tremble and whimper. "I asked you to."

"Bad, bad, rotten to the core. One more reason for her to hate me, to punish me, to kill me. Destroyer of innocence."

I can feel her lips tighten--don't need to see them.

"I asked for you to destroy my innocence." She punches me in the shoulder. Good. Pain.

"I wanted you. Don't you dare blame yourself."

Mad. Dawn's mad, angry, get mad at me, hurt me, hate me, kill me.

"Kill me."

*****

No.

Oh God, what did I do? I made it worse. I don't know why I did this. Why did I force him to do that? He loves my sister! I know that. I know he wants to be good for her. It's driven him mad. All I did was add to that madness.

Tears burn my eyes and I let them fall. I can't help it. I'm the bad one.

Sobbing now, I wrap myself over him, protecting him.

Please come back to me.

*****

She glows, a beacon in the darkness. I've always seen it.

A green haze surrounds her.

She's unique.

And I've ruined her. The glow is dimmed.

Should do what's right. Be a man. My father raised me to be a man of honor. Before the darkness, before Drusilla and Angelus and licentiousness and painful pleasure. I relished it all back then before...

The soul eats me alive.

And, yet...with it I've done the most horrible thing.

I can smell her hymenal blood. It's mixed with the tang of my semen, and the sweet musk of her own juices.

They flowed too briefly, before I hurt her, tore her, abused her, used her.

Monster.

Rapist.

*****

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

I can't stop murmuring it. I can't help hoping it will bring him back from the madness. I'm so very sorry.

He howls my name and I shudder in sympathy.

How do I fix this?

I...I'm not sure I can.

"Spike? How do I help you?"

*****

"Leave."

I want her gone. I can't take the gentle touches. I can't take the smell of her. I can't take the knowledge of what I did. I can't take her tears and her fears and her loss and her need and she still wants me, wants me again, even though I hurt her, no more sense than a callow youth, attacking her and lowering her to the hard floor and shoving her legs apart and pushing inside her again and again and again. Her crying and holding me, trying to want it still, trying to be brave.

Virginity sacrificed on the altar of my madness.

I don't need to burn to know I'm in Hell.

Leave me to rot.

*****

I can't stay here anymore. I don't know what to do to help him and my presence only seems to hurt him more. I stand, and I ache all over, but I find my panties and feel his eyes on me. I'm blushing--can't help it--as I put them back on, wincing as the cotton crotch rubs me.

Sore and raw.

Turning, I look at him huddled on the floor, watching me from beneath hooded eyes.

"I don't blame you. I threw myself at you. I kissed you first."

"Gentle..." He clears his throat and tries again. "Gentlemen do not take advantage of young, virtuous ladies. I am not a gentleman any more. I am a criminal, a monster. I have sullied the most pure."

This is too weird.

"I should make amends, offer myself to your sister with a stake to my heart, die to avenge your honor...but...I'm weak."

The strange nobility drifts away from him and a hint of lucidity seems to fill him. He stands and his eyes narrow on me.

"Why did you want this, Dawn?"

He sounds so much like the old Spike I find myself shrugging and responding with a typical teenage answer. "Dunno."

"Did you just want to get your cherry popped? Find out what fucking is all about? Why me, Dawn?"

The growing strength and anger in his voice send shivers down my spine and I instinctively back up.

"But, then, I'll do it with anyone, right? I fucked Harmony, for God's sake! And then demon girl and I had a right good shag on the table in the Magic Box. Bet I could get in Red's knickers, too. Always figured she still liked stick. So, why not you, too? Huh? Is that it? You wanted what I gave your sister?"

"Shut up."

I barely murmur it, but he hears me and he's suddenly in front of me, pushing me against the wall. "I didn't do a very good job though, did I? Let me make it up to. Love's bitch is really good at servicing pretty girls."

Oh God, why's he dropping to his knees? Why's he yanking up my skirt and...oh God, his fingers are inside me and my panties are down again and his tongue...

I'm coming, so fast and hard and yelping and bucking and his tongue is lashing me and his fingers are curled up and thumping against something that's sending me into more spasms and...

Oh...more...nipping and licking and he yanks one of my legs over his shoulders and I dig my fingers into his messy hair and try to hold on as he sucks and drinks as I come again, hard, shuddering against the wall and clenching around his fingers.

This...this is what it's all about...

*****

So sweet, like nectar tinged with blood. Her little clittie is swollen and hard. It only takes a few licks to send her over the edge. She comes in all innocence. No embarrassment or trying to muffle her cries. Just grinding against my mouth and spilling hot syrup down my chin.

I could get used to this.

"That's my Niblet," I croon, thrusting two fingers into her and finding that elusive G-spot. "Come again, baby."

Her howls of pleasure fill my ears as she nearly rips my hair out by the roots.

*****

Did I pass out?

I feel...hot, sweaty, sticky, wonderful. There's still pain, but every muscle in my body is limp.

He's holding me on his lap, his back to the wall, as he smokes a cigarette and cradles me like a fragile China doll.

"This is wrong, you know, Dawn," he murmurs, not looking at me but knowing I'm awake.

"I know." I can't look at him either. "But, it's not your fault. I really did want it. I don't know why. But...I'm not sorry, except that it seemed to hurt you more than help you. I'm sorry for that."

He looks at me then, his eyes a dark, stormy blue, and I can't look away. "I'm insane, you know that, right?"

I nod.

"Oh pet, I've buggered it again." Sighing, he kisses me softly on the cheek. "Even if you did want it and threw yourself at me. I should have said 'no'."

"You never could say 'no' to me, Spike."

I lay my head on his shoulder, feeling the comfort that always comes from just being with him.

"You'll regret this tomorrow."

"Probably. But I still won't blame you. I'll never blame you."

"'S okay. I blame myself for the two of us."

"Just promise me you won't do anything stupid." I have this sudden, horrifying image of him taking a stroll outside at noon or staking himself on any number of pieces of broken wood that litter the basement.

He gives me a look and I feel myself flush.

"Not going to off myself, 'Bit. That's the easy way out," he murmurs distantly. "The voices won't let me."

My heart breaks again as I watch him dissolve into madness.

I wish I knew how to help him.

*****

Pretty little girl sitting on my lap smelling like roses and cum and blood and peppermints.

Dru used to sit like this, curled against me in repletion.

Only, she was the insane one then...

If I close my eyes I can hear Dawn's whimpers of pain joining the multitude of cries in my head.

They'll make room. They have to. Can't ever forget even one horrible thing I've done.

Shouldn't be surprised that I keep on doing them.

Bad, rude...monster that I am.

End

Challenge Requirements: Write a Dawn/Spike fic with an R or NC17 rating in which Dawn finds Spike in the basement of the school. Assume that Buffy doesn't tell her sister about Spike. Also Dawn is in the basement because 1) she was being chased by a baddie, or 2) she was chasing a baddie, or 3) she was investigating some hellmouthy thing. NO character deaths allowed in the fic. Must include the line: "That's my Nibblet" (just because). Spike, in his current state (you know, souled and kinda crazy-like) notices something about Dawn that he hadn't noticed before OR he mentions something about Dawn (who she is, how he sees her) that he had noticed before, but never told her about.

Options I used: Dawn mentioning the infamous scene in Seeing Red--done off camera, so to speak; One of the two protecting the other; Spike rambling on, using tidbits of previous conversations between the two of them from season 5 or 6. (Actually used ones with Buffy).