Usual disclaimers.

"Well," came the clipped voice from the darkness,
"that was less than a total success."

A faint moan greeted him, then rapier wit.
"Is that the new British slang for complete fiasco?"

"I was unaware 'fiasco' was a part of your vocabulary."

"I read."

"You look at pictures and have a bad habit
of leaving fingerprints on the more erotic plates."

"So revoke my library card."

"Let us get out of this first.  You sound slightly
in front and rather lower.  How are you secured?"

"Ropes on my wrists and ankles."  A rustle of clothes.
"And a loop of rope connecting them.  I'm on my knees
in the middle of the floor, I think."

"Good place for you," put in Faith, with a leering
chuckle.  "Wesley, have you figured out how
to get us out of here?"

"First, we ascertain how many of us there are.
You and Xander have awakened.  I hear breathing
beside me, but your voice comes from the floor."

"They've got me wrapped in more metal than I can move.
Must be B breathing on you.  How about it, Wes?  Got
a gal panting down your neck."

"Faith, can you see anything?"

"The lights are coming up a little, I think.  Xand-man,
I can make you out."  The two men heard a lot of clanking.
"Wes, you are chained next to Buffy."

"I believe I can see you, Faith.  The light is getting better."

"You're still behind me.  I'm tied to something on the floor or I'd--

A sudden scream broke the silence.

"That was Cordy!"  Xander fought his bonds, ignoring the
pain, until he felt wet warmth on his hands.

More screams were followed by a series of broken sobs
as the light continued to get better.

Soon enough, a minion brought Cordelia, incredibly disheveled,
a bruise forming near her lovely left eye, and made her kneel
next Xander.  She wouldn't meet his eyes.  Her tear-streaked
face told him all he need to know.  More screams from another
room told them all something horrid was happening to Willow.
But the screams did not last long, and soon enough she too was
brought out, sobbing and bruised, unable to look at anyone.
She was shoved to her knees on the other side of Xander.
Her clothes were torn and rumpled, and she flinched at the soft
brush of Xander's arm that he had meant to be reassuring.

The mastermind behind their humiliation sauntered out.  Xander
struggled even harder in his ropes.  He had a really good
idea of what had been done to Cordy and Willow, and the vampire
in front of him would pay.  Of all the nights for Wesley to decide
to be Action Watcher!  He wished the Englishman was in the
library devising a way to rescue them

Angelus gestured for one of the minions to gag Faith as her
stream of invective began to bore him.  She bit off two fingers,
but eventually succumbed.  He slapped Buffy back to
consciousness, and circled all of his captives.

"Good evening children, and welcome to the Game.
We shall play in three rounds, and the winners get their
lives.  We're playing Truth and Consequences for the possession
of the lovely Willow, Wheel of Torture for ownership of Cordelia,
and This Was Your Life, Buffy Summers,
strictly for my own amusement."

Xander spat in the direction of the leather clad demon and
was reward with a stunning clout across the back of his head.
Willow trembled and Cordelia tried to chew through the gag she
wore.

"Brave boy.  Thus you get to be the first in our little demonstration."

Buffy moaned softly.  "Did I get the vamp that clobbered me?"

"Er-no," Wesley whispered back.  "He got us.  But never fear,
 Mr. Giles and young Oz are still free and are doubtless
concocting a rescue as we speak."

"Hate to burst your bubble, Wes," snapped Xander as two
minions shoved him into a chair and secured him, "But looks like
Obi-Wan has gone to the dark side of the Force."  He batted away a
vamp who was trying to lick the abraded place on his wrist.

From the shadows of the warehouse, Giles emerged, one arm around Ethan Rayne.  The watcher looked different, harder, and there was an ugly edge
to his attitude.  Oz, looking much different, much wolfier than usual, wandered out and took a place beside Spike.  He sniffed the air, and leered viciously at Willow, who bowed her head so her hair could cover her face.  He prowled
over, stalking her, his gait almost hunched, and circled her, sniffing.

"Oz?" she asked, timidly, afraid of this new development.  He growled deep in his throat and walked around her twice more.  She was trembling by the time he jerked her head up to look him in the face.  She cringed at the sight of his fangs and yellow eyes.

"Treacherous bitch," he growled.  "You're my mate, not his."  He raked sharp claws over her shoulder, drawing blood.

"He forced me," Willow sobbed.  Several of the nearby minions sniffed in anticipation at the stream of blood that trickled over her shoulder.

Oz slapped her before returning to crouch beside Spike.  "Bitch," he spat once more.

"Ah, Ripper, Ethan, so good of you to join us.  Are we ready?"

"Giles!"  Buffy yelled, drawing his attention, and ignoring the building explosion behind her sinuses.

He walked over and planted one hand on either side of her bound head.  "Hello, little love," he leered.  "Confused much? as your charming companion would say.  You didn't really think I was just a mild-mannered librarian, did you?"  He tucked a pair of sixpence, dated 1888, into her bound hand.  "Standard fee, my pretty dollymop.  For standard services, soon to be rendered. And soon enough standard punishment."  He sauntered off to rejoin Ethan.

"Wesley?" Buffy asked full of confusion.

"Oh dear," the Watcher commented.  "I'd heard him called Ripper, but I didn't know they meant _The_ Ripper."

"Giles is Jack the Ripper?  So what's with the antique money?"

"The price of an average Whitechapel prostitute, or dollymop, as he said,  in 1888 was twelve-pence, one shilling.  I have grave doubts about getting out alive."  Buffy's eyes widened as the meaning of Giles' words struck her.

"As well you should, Wimp-ham.  No one leaves alive unless I'm amused.  And that goes for you, too, my friends," he glared at Giles and Ethan, Spike and Oz.

"Angelus,"  Buffy sneered, covering fear with bravado.  "So you're just bored tonight? What, nothing good on Home Chopping network?"

"It's going to be great fun taking you apart, Slayer.  Piece by messy piece.  Now, sit back and watch, because it's time to play!"

Four minions wheeled out glitzy stage sets, a fifth helped Angelus into a red velvet smoking jacket, and handed him a microphone.  Number six and seven moved Xander's chair into a position in front of the sets, and number eight set up a video camera.

"Good evening and welcome to Truth and Consequences.  Our contestants tonight are William the Bloody and Alexander Harris.  The prize is the lovely Willow Rosenburg."  The camera panned to where two minions had stripped Willow down and posed her naked for the camera.  "Gentlemen, the game is played in three rounds.  Best two out of three.  The question tonight is
'Is Xander Harris gay?'  William, or Spike rather, will be defending this idea. Xander you will be refuting it.  Spike, what tests do we have for our young man?"

"Right.  Angelus, tonight young master Harris will play 'rate the blowjob', 'watch the action' and 'enjoy the sex.'  We will measure his purely physical responses by ekg, eeg, and lie detector combination we like to call the Arous-o-meter."  Minions stuck the electrodes to Xander's head and chest, and a cuff to his arm.

"Blindfold him, and let the first round begin."

Two leather pads were strapped over Xander's eyes.  He felt cold hands unfastening his jeans, and removing them, exposing him to the world and immortalizing him on videotape.

"Not bad at all," he heard Angelus chuckle.  "Let's see what can be done with it."

Suddenly, Xander felt himself enveloped by a warm, wet mouth.  Skillfully, slowly it teased him erect and swallowed him whole.  The swirling tongue and light suction spiked the Arous-o-meter into the high end as he climaxed very rapidly.

"Very good, contestant 1.  Contestant 2, your turn"

The second was less experienced and seemed to be going for a hoover-like suction.  Finally, the mouth got a better idea and nibbled him lightly all over, finishing the job at last.

"So sorry contestant 2.  You failed to get him above midline.  One more failure and I feed you to the minions.  Contestant 3, go."

The third mouth was coy, teasing.  The tongue licked at him softly, just flickering over the sides.  Light kisses showered on the head, and traced on the underside.  Quick butterfly motions across the taut, sensitive spot under the head.  The Arous-o-meter had peaked into the red zone before
he was enveloped in warm wetness.  The suction was perfect, neither too strong nor too gentle.  The dance of the tongue and the faint ridge of the teeth behind folded lips finally capped the experience.  The third orgasm was wrenched from him with a sharp cry.  The talented mouth swallowed, and ever-so-slowly withdrew as he softened.

"I think that was our winner, Angelus."

"Perhaps.  One more to go, and we'll see.  Contestant number 4."

The fourth head was shoved into his lap, cluing Xander that this one was less than willing to service him.  As with the others, any hair or other identifiers were carefully kept away from him, but they hadn't reckoned on his sense of smell, or his familiarity with Cordelia's perfume.  The faint scent of Toujours Moi reached him.

"Cordy, please, I'm sorry," he whispered, not sure why he was apologizing.

In response, she took him into her mouth, but after three climaxes, and the memory of the last blow-job, she was woefully inadequate.  Cordelia had never been good at this anyway, much preferring to be the recipient than the giver.  When she couldn't coax him to erection after 5 minutes of trying, he felt her pulled away.

The blindfold was removed, and Xander blinked against the brightness.  A scantily clad female vamp, looking like a Vegas Showgirl from the 50's, pranced across the set and placed a large placard bearing a "1" on it at Spike's side of the scoreboard.

"Round one to Spike.  Let's meet our contestants.  Number 1: Willow.  Always the quiet ones, isn't it?  Who'd have guessed she'd place second?  Number 2, in third place, Larry.  Not much time to practice yet, boy?  We'll remedy that after the games, if you're still alive.  Number 3, and the winner, Oz.  Number 4, Cordelia, but you already figured that out.  Dear girl, if you fail that miserably again, you may be taking Wesley's place for the Wheel of Torture round, and
he'll be the prize.  Spike, what's in store for Round 2?"

"Round two is strictly visual."

"Can't he just run a bloody Steve Reeves movie?" Giles whispered to Ethan, who kissed him quiet.

"Frankly, I think Joan Crawford would be more effective," Ethan responded when they came up for air.

The vampire ignored the two men.  "In this round, Mr. Harris gets a chance to recover while watching his primary obsession: sex.  He'll watch three couples and a threesome.  Response will be again rated by the Arous-o-meter.  Our first show will be provided by the two lovely ladies: Willow and Buffy."

Two minions unchained the Slayer and led her to the large table where Willow waited.  The redhead kissed her with surprising eagerness and Buffy pulled back.

"Will, you're not gay."

"I'm bi.  It's the logical choice of the superior intellect." She put on her pedantic face.  "Now, since I have the experience, why don't you hop onto the table and enjoy the ride?"  She lowered her voice until only Buffy and the straining Oz could hear.  "Besides, if we prove Xander's straight, he gets me and we get to live."  She licked along Buffy's neck to her chin and then kissed the blonde again.

Buffy was taken by surprise by her enjoyment of the kiss.  Willow was gentle but firm enough to let Buffy know she meant business.  The soft smoothness of the other girl was a pleasant change from the stubble of men.   Buffy boosted herself to the table and spread her legs for Willow's inspection.  Willow closed them, and lifted the shirt off the blonde.

"Not so fast.  Let's enjoy ourselves," she purred, her voice disquieting.  She caressed Buffy's breasts, running her thumbs over each nipple and watching them stiffen and deepen from pale pink to dark red.  She lowered her mouth to lick one, and was pleased to find Buffy's hands on her own breasts.  The Slayer hit a bruise and Willow hissed, coming up from the nipple.

It was then Buffy really looked at her friend.  There was a small bruise on her cheek, claw marks and bruises marring her breasts, and Willow stood with her legs almost vulgarly apart.  "Who?" she whispered tracing the bruise on Willow's cheek.

"One good guess.  I made Angelus mad.  He couldn't rape me, I said yes to everything.  That made him even more angry," she whispered under the guise of kissing and licking Buffy's ear.   "He was rough.  I guess you heard me scream."

"Oh, Will," Buffy half-sobbed.

"Don't.  Please enjoy what I'm doing.  Remember, _your_ consent is what makes it rape or sex.  Now, please, let me make love to you.  It's probably the last pleasure they'll let you have, unless we escape."

Willow turned serious, and got down to business, burying her face between the Slayer's legs, yet still managing to give Xander an excellent view of the proceedings.  The boy ogled them  shamelessly, watching as his greatest fantasy came to life.  Now if he were only in the middle of it...  He groaned as he came erect again.  The Arous-o-meter pinged as he peaked it out.

Two minions pulled Willow away from Buffy as the Slayer climaxed for a fourth time.  Buffy was returned, naked, to her chains and Willow was shoved to one side and held securely.

"Going to be hard to beat that score, Spike.  He really does like the girls."

"Ah, but next, we have his secret desires.  Ripper, Oz? Take it from here."

Xander watched in horror as the librarian shoved the werewolf to his knees.  Oz didn't seem to mind, and quickly unzipped the black jeans, freeing what lay beneath.  Buffy, trying not to look,  was take aback.  Surely that thing hadn't actually...she cut the thought off as Oz swallowed the Ripper's erection with the ease of long practice.  The older man stood thoughtfully for a moment, enjoying the blow job.

Xander willed himself limp, but his body remembered the touch of those lips, and detumescing took longer than expected.  Then Giles shoved Oz away, made the dog-training signal for "roll over" and dropped to his own knees.  This time Buffy got a better look, and saw it was only a cock.  Uncut, perhaps a bit large, but still, just a standard issue item instead of the edged horror she thought she had seen.  Oz's pants were quickly dropped, and the video monitor filled with the sight of him being taken, doggie-style.  The vampires seemed to find this incredibly funny, and even Faith grinned around the gag.

By the time Giles shot across Oz's back, Xander found himself completely limp.  The Arous-o-meter stood at zero.  The two men were waved to the side to clean up.

"Hmm, Spike?  You ready to concede this round?  Even if he peaks for your second pair, he'd have to be limp for his second to even hit a draw.  And I don't think that's a possibility where Cordelia's involved and naked."

"Ordinarily, I'd say you were right, but after Round 1, I think your faith in Miss Chase's charms is exaggerated.  And there's the 'your woman in another's arms' factor.  Right, get the bitch and the tweedy twit out here."

Wesley was unchained and brought out to the stage.  Cordelia, her clothing shredded away, was pushed out to stand in front of him.  "Miss Chase," he stammered as she flung herself at him.

"Wesley," she sighed, taking what comfort she could from his arms around her.  "I didn't want it to be like this.  But they'll kill us if we don't."

The watcher stammered some more and she shut him up with a kiss.  She slowly unfastened his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt, one button at a time.  He'd lost his suit jacket in the scuffle earlier, and now she slipped the suspenders off his shoulders with knowing hands.

"Have I ever told you how sexy I think tweed is?" she murmured in his ear as she eased his glasses off.  "Or how much suspenders turn me on?"  Her hands moved to unfasten his trousers and began caressing him.

"Miss Chase, I do want you, but let's be realistic..."  Wesley managed.

"Look, I'm naked in your arms.  It's Cordelia, okay?  Realistic?  You want realistic?  In about an hour, one of us if going to be tortured to death, so the other can live as a sex toy for the torturer.  Is that realistic enough?  I know all about the three I's.  And Inappropriate Conduct is the least of your worries.  Now shut up, kiss me, and let's get this last bit of pleasure."

Persuaded by both words and hands, Wesley quit fighting and gave himself over to the kiss, with unfortunate results.  His hesitant technique left too much to be desired.  Cordelia pulled away and said, "Look, let's get this straight."  She knocked him to the floor and straddled his hips.  "I'm on top, let me do the work.  You just relax and enjoy yourself."

Xander found the Englishman's predicament amusing.  Cordelia could be a dominant bitch, and it looked like Wesley was going to get a taste of Mistress Cordelia, whether he wanted it or not.  Remembering the last time he'd found himself in such a position, Xander snuck a glance at the Arous-o-meter and noted it was climbing slowly.  Concentrating on Cordy, watching her tease
and arouse Wesley, Xander reminisced about his last session with her on top, causing the meter to continue to climb.

Cordelia freed the watcher's cock from the confines of his boxers.  He was about half-hard, and she stroked him roughly, bringing him the rest of the way.  "Listen," she snapped in what Xander thought of as her "mistress" voice, "you're mine.  Spike gave you to me for this session.  Now, I'm going to have you."  She leaned forward and hissed in his ear, "And it doesn't have to be the
last time if we get out alive."  She impaled herself on him, and continued teasing  him with her words. "If you like the dominant sort, I have this terrific pair of boots.  And you can spend hours on your knees, licking them.  I've heard about those boys' schools.  I will cane you, and fuck your ass if that's what you need."

Under this barrage of images, engulfed in warm wetness, Wesley groaned.  She rode him expertly, pushing him toward the edge of his climax.  Her hand in his hair caused his eyes to  open.  She leaned forward, dangling her breasts in his face like ripe fruit.  His hands came up to stroke them.  Slowly, he reached out his tongue to lick at one nipple.

"Very good, sweetheart," she said.  "Don't stop."  She let go of his hair and reached a slim hand underneath him.  She tipped her pelvis so her clitoris rubbed on his pubic bone, and she rubbed hard.  "Don't stop," she panted, finding what she was searching for.

Without warning, Wesley found two slim fingers, with sharp nails, imbedded in his anus.  Cordelia thrust in time to her strokes and they both climaxed together, her with an animal chuckle in her throat, him with a yelp.

She pulled her fingers out, wiped them on his belly and stood up, leaving him where he lay.  She was startled to find herself caught and spun around for a lingering kiss.  "Two can play at your games, Cordelia," came the warning whisper in her ear.  "Should we survive, you may find yourself the one being caned."

Cordelia trembled a little, and kissed him back.  "And do you want me to be a very naughty girl?" she teased.  The answer was a much more possessive kiss.

Xander snuck another glance at the meter, and found it in the red-zone.  Nowhere near Buffy and Willow's mark, but very high.  He was too drained to force another erection, but he had enjoyed seeing someone else get a taste of Cordy's dom side.  A quick thought of him and Wesley both kneeling before her, trying to outdo the other flitted through his head, and he dismissed it.  There might be time later.

"Better concede, Spike.  No way you can beat his score," Angelus said as the score-card girl hung a 1 on Xander's side of the board.

"Bloody wanker," Spike mumbled at his sire.  "Alright then, the last round is actual sex.  Xander, will get to actually fuck two people.  First, our lovely slayer, Buffy.  His secret desire of the last two years.  Or is she?  Then Larry, handsome, athletic and madly attracted to our Mr. Harris the first person he came out of the closet to."

The minions let Xander out of his chair and dragged Buffy over to him.  She didn't want to meet his eyes, but he took her gently in his arms and kissed her.  She relaxed a little, but still couldn't forget they were in the middle of enemy territory and surrounded.  A small protest came from Cordelia.  They ignored her.

"Buffy, we have a problem," he whispered, nuzzling her as he stroked her curves.  "I'm wiped.  I can't get it up again.  Of all the times to have you in my arms..."

She silenced him with another kiss, and reached down to stroke him.  He flinched as her hand grazed the over-sensitized flesh.  "Perhaps my mouth would be softer?" she whispered.

He cringed.  "Please, Buffy.  I just can't.  I want you up here," he grazed her forehead with his fingertips, "but the rest of me is no-go.  Maybe I can pleasure you?"

She smiled.  "I like what we're doing.  Kissing, stroking.  It's nice."  They continued until an impatient vampire dragged them apart.  The Arous-o-meter stood at the three-quarter mark.

"What the hell are you doing?  You're supposed to be shagging her, not just smooching her."

"I can't."

"I win, Angelus.  He can't get it up for her!"

"I can't for anybody."

"We'll see about that.  Larry, get out here."  The jock came forward, and waited for orders from Spike.  Minions rechained Buffy.  "Have fun, boys."  Spike left the pair standing awkwardly.

Larry wrapped his arms around Xander and kissed him hesitantly.  They pulled away and stared at each other.  Larry tried again, with the same result as pressing his lips to a wall.

"He's not even kissing back," the football player complained.  A quick glace showed that even the residual arousal from kissing Buffy had worn off, leaving nothing in its wake.  And a third kiss sent his equipment shriveling farther, and the Arous-o-meter dipped below the zero mark.

"Spike, I think you lost that round too," Angelus sighed.  The female vamp pranced across the stage, carrying a sign with a large "2" on it.  She hung it ceremoniously under Xander's name.  All right.  The winner for this game is Alexander Harris, who has conclusively proven he is straight.  The prize is Willow Rosenburg.  Take them to the holding cage.  We'll release everyone at once."  Minions hauled Willow and Xander out of the main warehouse.  The rest of  the slayerettes looked worried.    "Now, for our second game: Wheel of Torture!"