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Redolent: Strongly reminiscent or suggestive; mentally associative.
Malodorous.
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It is one of the most spectacular things I've ever seen.

Absolutely fucking sensational.

Nothing in my life or un-life, for that matter could have prepared me for what greets me the night I follow him.

The Giant Hall Monitor, White-Bread, Captain Cardboard himself.

Riley. Fucking. Finn. Legs spread, half naked, eyes shut and mouth wide open while some vampire whore feeds off of him as he whimpers like a baby.

Jesus, the guy is huge. I mean he really is huge. I'd noticed he was tall before but with his top off, curled up in that chair he looks even bigger than I remember.

Big broad shoulders, wide chest, beautiful sculpted abs; obviously those drugs they pumped him full of paid off `cause physically I've never seen anyone who compares. Oh yeah, I've always been a sucker for big and this boy rivals even Angelus in the imposing physicality stakes.

Only followed him to see what he was up to, I was just dying to catch him out with some bint he was seeing on the side so I could run back and tell the Slayer... brownie points for Spike n'all that. But one look at that huge marine and that was it, I was hooked like a fucking junkie.

There are some days I can convince myself that I don't miss feeding off humans, that it's okay, that I'm used to it now, that the pigs blood in those plastic bags is enough for me, and oh yeah I can hurt demons now so that makes it better right?

Yeah, sure.

I manage to fool myself into thinking that it's okay, everything's just fucking fine, then that scent hits me again and it makes my fucking mouth water.

Once when I was staying in the whelp's basement, he was trying to change a lightbulb and it shattered. He cut his hand on the glass and as he searched for a bandage I could see the blood dripping from his fingers and smell it and all I could think of was how easy it would be to push him down on the floor and sit astride him, trapping him so he couldn't struggle and lick the blood from him, one finger at a time. And if it hadn't been for the brain-splitting pain, that kid wouldn't have lasted a second longer, not one fucking second.

Yeah right, animal blood is enough to satisfy me.

But it's not just the taste I miss.

It's that power, that absolute power to take someone's life, their experiences and make it a part of me, make me stronger, better. Like Angelus taught me, it's not only about the kill; it's about making ourselves stronger through that victim. It's the rush you get when you can take that person's essence and consume it, it's all about control.

Oh yeah, hearing that resonant cornfed voice reduced to a broken whisper is just too damn good, that tall impressive body stretched out in that chair moaning over and over and over while the scent of his sweet blood hits the air, so sweet I can taste it across the room, feel it itching my throat, begging me to take him.

Mmmm. I can imagine soldier-boy's blood tasting so good. So full of pain. He might be big but he's more fragile than that entire pathetic Scooby gang combined and fear and pain and need just tastes so fucking sweet.

Like I said, intoxicating.

"Harder."

Oh yeah, he needs to ask for it. You see, those whore fledges have no idea what they're doing. So young, probably only a few months old at the most? I could really have made that boy ache, made him want, made him burn all day and all night long for it; and let's just say if I did have this sodding chip out of my brain, no fucking way would it have been him who was giving the orders.

I would stake that fledge, pull him out of that chair and push him against the wall, take his scent in, his fear and his hunger and his absolute consuming need. Brush his nipple with my fingernail, rub it, twist it because that boy wants the pain, he wants to feel something, anything aside from the void that is loving the Slayer. Then I'd push him down on one of those rotting pieces of furniture, pull him into my lap and fuck his mouth with my tongue, bite his bottom lip with blunt teeth and proceed to lick every bit of sweat from that expansive chest.

Then I'd open his jeans and slide my hand inside, taking hold of that cock that I knew had been hard from the moment he saw that useless slut change into game-face. The head would already be slippery, wet with pre come and when I rubbed it all over with my thumb he would mewl like a cat, and roll his hips towards mine, trying to come into contact with my own rock-hard cock and he'd be moaning now, not a little whimper but one of those hungry animal-like moans.

By the time I'd pull him towards me and tilt his head so he'd be ready for my bite, he'd be wound so fucking tight, but he wouldn't get it that easily. I wouldn't be doing this for money like the fledge slapper.

//What do you want Riley, tell me what you want.//

//I. I. I want...//

//You have to tell me what you want boy, or I'll leave and you know I will...//

And he'd be so ashamed, `cause he'd been reduced to this, begging for the thing he most craved from a creature he hates, but he'd know there was no going back, because his need for that bite was far more powerful and important than any human emotion he might have felt.

//Please...bite.//

Head down, eyes half-mast, the picture of total and utter subservience, and what demon wouldn't get off on that? So I'd scrape my fangs against his neck and he would come from this alone, come screaming like a girl.

"How much do I owe you?"

That soft broken voice brings me back, `cause as much as I'd love to, it's not me feeding off the boy and why?

Because Spike doesn't get to chase the little puppies anymore, Spike gets his blood from a fucking butcher and it's no longer about the thrill of the hunt or the fear in that poor sod's eyes when they realise they're

going to die, it's about just surviving, just barely existing and being yes, impotent.

And just surviving is barely surviving at all. What's the point when I can't do the one thing that makes me better than those pathetic humans? Yeah, I used to be better than them, but now I'm just a joke. A vampire that can't feed, not because he's a wanker with a soul, but because he's a fucking lab rat.

Impotent, such an appropriate word and one that those pathetic scoobies with their pet watcher just love rubbing in my face every chance they get, "Spike's harmless", "Spike's neutered", "Spike's defanged". Oh yeah, they really are stupid if they think just because I can't rip their heads from their shoulders right now doesn't mean I won't when this chip is out.

That Watcher's neck'll be snapped so fucking quickly he won't even have time to scream like the utter ponce he is. And Harris? Oh yeah, he'll pay for all the times he tied me up and called me `harmless', I wonder what I could use to cut into him? And how many cuts that boy could withstand to his body before he passes out? Oh, yeah, I just bet he'll cry and shriek like a girl when I rip his fucking ex-demon's heart out in front of him. The witches'll be a bit harder, they'll try and find some mojo to work on old Spike, but it'll be hard for them to utter spells with their tongues torn out.

And the Slayer? First I want her to see what I'm going to do to her soldier-boy here, then I'm thinking maybe I'll turn him and watch while he kills her. He is a strong one after all, but if he doesn't manage to? Well, I'm sure the heartbreak of having to send another one of her men to hell will seriously fuck the poor chit up, and it'll be so easy to take advantage of that situation.

Oh yeah, some days those fantasies are all that keep me going.

I wonder if they have any idea just what I've spent hours planning to do to them, because if they knew, I'm pretty sure they would've staked me by now.

Some days I think the stake would be preferable, and it would certainly be preferable tonight to standing and watching the boy beg for it, begging to be fed on, his hot blood flowing, making me so damned hard and not being able to do the slightest thing about it.

Never could resist the pull of male blood, so sweet, oh so much sweeter than any woman's. The blood of men tastes like violence, sex, sweat and heat. I want so desperately to be tearing that boy's throat out and tasting his sweet blood as it flows freely into my mouth. For the excess to spill out of my lips and fall down, drenching my chin as he screams in pain and in pleasure. I know he wants this and he needs it more than anything or anyone else.

Christ, how many times does a vampire come across a human who's so desperate for it that they'll pay for the bite? And I can't fucking touch him. It makes me so fucking frustrated it burns, God I wish I could ignore the pain and just reach out and take him.

But instead I hide in the shadows till he dresses and leaves after throwing a wad of money at the fledge who is so undeserving of him, so fucking unworthy.

I perch behind the door and wait for her to leave, and as she does I pounce, oh yeah, I'm still the big bad, honey, and don't you forget it.

As I slam her against the wall her head makes such a nice dull whacking sound against it and her cheek is such a lovely place for me to twist and stub out the cigarette that's just getting in the way now. She's screaming and I can't say I blame her `cause that must have hurt like a bitch. She falls to the floor and then when my boot slams into her ribs, I can actually feel them cracking under it and she's crying, sobbing from the pain.

I pin her down sitting on her, legs either side of her thighs and reach into her pocket taking all the cash the boy gave her before slamming my elbow into her face and she's dazed, but I slap her cheek a couple of times. Because I want her to be aware, want her to feel everything I'm doing to her.

Christ it feels good being able to take everything out on this one vamp. Poor thing. She had no idea when she went to work on the boy tonight that anything like this could possibly happen, but she should've been more careful who she played with.

`Please...'

And now she's going to try begging for her life, thinks that'll make a difference, like I'm noble or something. Does she have any idea how much I'm fucking enjoying this?

`Please what?'

And now I pull the stake out and see that look of utter wide-eyed terror in her eyes because the slag knows she's going to die, knows there's no getting out of this. I pull her head up to mine, one hand maintaining its grip in her greasy mane of hair. `I know what you're thinking love, you're thinking why you, right? Why out of all the demons in this crap town do I pick on you?'

She nods slowly, gravely. Her eyes are darting round, she's desperate for escape and she struggles now, trying to pull away and as she does a large tuft of her hair gets pulled out, so I grab another handful and slam her head into the ground.

`Now now love, you mustn't struggle. Just accept that I'm going to kill you. And I'll tell you why.' I pause, scraping the stake down the side of her face and continue down her neck and chest. `You're a fucking pathetic excuse for a vampire and you don't deserve to live. The boy only came to you `cause he didn't have a choice. And I hate to go all melodramatic on you, but if I can't taste him there's no way in hell you're going to. You couldn't even make him come...'

And as I slam the stake in and watch her disintegrate in front of me, I know I'm still it.

Still the big bad.

I feel so much better now. In fact, everything seems really clear. I'm going to go tell Buffy all about what her boy's been up to. Why, tomorrow night I might just take her there and make her watch as he gets another whore to feed off of him. Seeing the look on the Slayer's face will be priceless, I bet she's going to look a fucking picture.

And when soldier-boy finds out that it was me that told her, he's going to come to me, then I'll make him understand what a real bite is. I'm thinking that the chip won't work if he wants it that badly, and by the end of the night, he will.

Oh no, Riley, when I get hold of you there will be no need for "Harder", because when I'm done with you my boy, the only thing you're going to be doing is asking for it. Begging to be drained and fucked and who am I to say no to that?

You'll be begging for me and my fangs and cock so far inside you that you can taste your own blood and come and you'll be pleading with me to end it, asking for your own death just cause it tastes so fucking sweet.

That's a promise.

the end