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PART 2 Buffy awakened on the floor, naked, aching, bloody and alone. She sensed she'd been unconscious for hours… how long had she been there? The windowless room was practically pitch dark and she couldn't make out much. For all she could see, they could have even moved her. They… those demons, they'd.… She moaned and curled tightly into a ball, sobbing as the reality of what had happened hit her. She’d been raped. Dear God, those demons had gang-raped her. Rolling to her sore knees, she vomited uncontrollably as images flooded her mind…. Pava forced her down. Her knees burned when they hit the cool, stone floor... her eyes closed against the sting of it only to fly open again when he grabbed her hair, pulled her head back, forced her to meet his eyes. He grimaced as he slowly taunted her, pulled his robe aside and rubbed his engorged phallus all over her face. Terror flooded her and she tried to scurry back but the second demon – 'Bura', Pava had called him - grabbed her shoulders and held her in place. Pava tightened his grip on her hair as he roughly pried her mouth open with his opposite hand. She fought to close it again and he growled, snarled, threatened to cut out her tongue should she fight him. His eyes pierced hers… he was speaking the truth, but she couldn't…. She was sobbing... please don't please.... His hand swung back and he struck her hard across the face, her jaw stinging as he grabbed it harder now, pulled harder. She couldn't, she couldn't willingly…. He squeezed more and more… it was going to break, oh God, he was breaking her jaw. He let her go and looked up at Bura in silent request. Bura reached for his back, pulled something from his belt and handed it to Pava.
Pava grabbed her jaw again, brandishing the knife, ready to carry out his threat. Her body wracked with sobs…please God… She slowly opened her mouth. He snickered and handed the knife back to Bura, passing it over her head, just out of reach. She lunged for it anyway. He grabbed both sides of her head, painfully stopping her, held her in a vice like grip and growled as he rammed his penis down her throat. She was choking, he was choking her…. She feebly slapped at his stomach, tried to pull back…. He was too heavy, he didn't move, her slaps did nothing, she couldn't get away. A whistle through the air. She screamed, choking as the whip struck her back, as she was thrown forward, as Pava's cock was thrust deeper, bruising the back of her throat. Too deep, too deep… Ungh! The whip moved higher now, struck her upper back, the strips of leather fanning out across it, the edges wrapping around her sides, stinging her breasts. The force threw her body forward again, Pava's grip tightened, his cock perpetually shoved deeper down her throat now. Buffy sobbed… Pava laughed in satisfaction. Ungh! Ungh! Bura was whipping her whole body with all of his strength… her back, her shoulders, her neck, her thighs. The flogging stopped abrupty; Pava continued to thrust… hard, so hard, as Bura pulled her sandals off, throwing them across the room where they landed in a loud clatter. She screamed… the whip now struck her feet… she tried to pull away... they held her still... so much pain… she was choking, sobbing... peals of laughter erupted from them as her dress fell to shreds, as she moaned around Pava's cock, as it thickened and tightened, as the briney water burned her raw, now exposed bleeding back... as Pava’s hands squeezed her head, too hard, too hard, as he throttled her. Bura beating her, beating her, beating her… Buffy sobbing, fighting for breath, desperately praying ... Please stop please stop please stop PLEASE GOD MAKE THEM STOP! Bitter semen flooded her mouth, shot down her throat, drowning her. Pava pulled out of her and forced her jaw closed, held it shut until she swallowed, pinched her nose shut when she resisted. She swallowed. He shoved her away and she landed on the floor like discarded trash. She curled up, hurt, so much pain, gasping, struggling to catch her breath, struggling to catch her breath. A door opened behind her… breathe breathe… two more demons came in, walked past her, glanced over at her, and kept going. Thank God… breathe breathe A shadow moved over her. She chanced a glance up. The four demons had moved to her, were staring down at her. She met the eyes of a large grey demon covered in veiny, bark-like flesh. He licked his lips. She curled tighter as sobs racked her body once more. It wasn't over. The demon grabbed her right arm and yanked her roughly to standing, smiling when she screamed when her bleeding feet touched the floor. They pulled at her clothes, played with her, pushed her at one another, ripped the remaining shreds of her dress off... roughly groped her breasts. She was now completely naked. They stopped and stared at her hungrily, their eyes raking her body.... She flew at the largest one, beat at him with her fists – he was stone, didn't even seem to feel it – God, her strength, she had no strength. He laughed hysterically, taunted her, imitated her sobs, her attack, pretended to fight back until Pava moved in between them and backslapped her so hard she flew several feet through the air, her breath completely knocked out of her when her bleeding back slammed into the stone floor. He grabbed her shoulder. She was winded, she couldn't breathe, she needed to fight, she couldn't fight. He threw her onto her stomach, her ribs aching when he reached around her, pulled her up onto her knees. Pain knifed through her; he slammed into her dry center from behind. He was so big, too big. He pawed at her breasts, twisting them, squeezing hard, too hard... so much pain, she was screaming... he rammed into her, grunting as he pistoned, faster, faster… rough, so rough, each thrust turning the world black… her air… she was leaving… she was passing out…. He pulled out of her, threw her down onto the floor… she lay there, breath heaving, gasping, God please *please* let me pass out let me be done. They were behind her again, talking, grunting… she pulled herself to her knees, she tried to crawl away… so slow… it hurt so much, it was so hard to move. She glanced over her shoulder at them. They were studying her… waiting… waiting… oh, God.... Waiting for her. She collapsed sobbing onto the floor. It wasn't going to stop. She slowly, painfully curled on her side. She begged them Why? Why are you…please.... She was lifted up and turned, weightless to them. She was forced back onto her knees, forced to straddle the grey demon… please don't… please don't…. He pushed into her, he impaled her, he thrust deeply, too deep for her tiny body. She groaned in pain, in fear, as he pulled her ass cheeks apart and held them open, as another demon's fingers dug into her hips, bruising her. She twisted again, desperate to get away as the second demon spit repeatedly onto her ass, rubbing the liquid against her... as he pressed something hard into her behind. Black… dizzy… pain… hoarse screams as he then ripped into her dry, virgin back passage. She was too full, they were too full… she was sobbing please stop please stop please.… Her hair was grabbed, her head pulled up. Pava stood in front of her, matching her gaze, stroking her jaw… glaring when she stared blankly back and did nothing. She was going to burst. The two demons inside her… so much pain, so much pressure, she was so full. They were breaking her. So much, so much... they were splitting her open. She watched, numb, as Pava raised his hand to strike her…. There was no end. She closed her eyes, her spirit shattering as she dutifully opened her mouth. He thrust harshly into her, rammed his cock against the back of her throat. Her eyes flew open in shock, in terror. He was squeezing her head again, too hard. God, it hurts… when? when God is it over? He thrust again and again, choking her… too deep… too deep…. She was filled. The demons beneath and behind her came, pushing farther into her as they let themselves release. Pava continued to pummel her, she felt the others pull out, semen, blood dripping down her thighs, her legs. She wept with gratitude. Pava's thrusts came faster, he was going to come. She was lifted, they were pulling her legs apart, holding them... No!... Her eyes flew open as Pava came, as she was impaled on another cock... choking sobs as she fell onto her forearms, as he shoved into her center, sucked hard on her breast, as a second demon pulled her ass cheeks apart and pressed himself into her behind again, using her blood, the other's semen to enter her quickly. They traded her for hours, fucked her, over and over. She was filled with them, her head was spinning, she had no breath, she was filled with their semen, covered with it, dripping with it. They'd finish, they'd throw her to the floor. She'd lay gasping for air, praying for oblivion for mere seconds before they grabbed her again, laughing at her, groping her, entering her, holding her upright, kicking her to the floor, whipping her back, her breasts, choking her... over and over… discarding her, starting again. It was endless, her Slayer body keeping her alive and conscious until finally after hours, maybe days, she finally reached her breaking point and passed out. Staring at the floor now covered with regurgitated food, semen… blood… still dry heaving… she swiped the back of her hand across her mouth and fought to stop crying, fought to breathe more evenly, fought to calm down, fought to let the Slayer take over and Buffy to be no more. Being sick, crying, wasn't going to save her… the Slayer would. She hadn’t had her powers when she’d defeated Kralick, yet she'd persevered. She would do that here too. Giles had trained her well, trained her to get out of any situation. She had to... she had to focus, *not* think about it... find some clothing, devise a plan, and then... Her eyes filled with tears again. Then what? Where could she go? This place… Bet – whatever-it-was, wasn’t France - it wasn’t some distant locale on Earth. Quentin had said it was another dimension, wasn't that what he'd said? Maybe if Giles were with her she could get home. Was there maybe a Watcher there? A Watcher who’d been kidnapped like her that had been exiled there? Taking a deep breath, calming herself again, focusing on that, she resolved: She’d get out of there and hide and, yes, see if she could find a Watcher. It was a long shot but, well, it was likely her only shot. She *needed* to get out of there. Groaning in pain, she forced herself to stand, fought her dizziness, and looked through the dim light for a door. She could see none. And there was nothing that could have been blocking a door. The walls were smooth, the room devoid of any furnishings that she could see, devoid of anything at all, save for a tray of fruit and something that looked like cheese resting on the floor near the wall. Her stomach clenched painfully and she realized that, despite feeling ill, she was desperately hungry. It had been at least a day since she’d had a fat-free yogurt and an orange for lunch at school and then she'd thrown that up along with… everything else. Despite her disgust at eating unknown food, she knew she would need all of her available strength to mount her escape. Limping over to the wall, she tentatively reached for the yellow, hard block of “cheese,” sniffed it and reluctantly took a small bite. She discovered it did, in fact, taste like some kind of cheese - it reminded her of the Muenster cheese her Mom had used on her sandwiches for elementary school. Oh God, her Mom. Mommy, I need you... focus, Buffy, focus on the Slayer…. After several bites, she gave in to weakness and hunger, and sat down again, resting as much on her left hip as possible – it hurt so badly to sit don't think about it don't think about it – and shamelessly devoured the entire block, following it with the pear-like fruit and berries in the bowl beside it. As she swallowed her last bite, her heart clenched: She was no longer alone. A small, black-robed demon stood beside her, reached for her. She shrank back, rolled to her knees and began to crawl away as quickly as she could, afraid of more... attention. The demon pulled her to standing as if she were weightless and threw her against the opposite wall. She hit with a smack and was horrified when shackles magically bound her wrists and ankles tightly to the stone. Immediately, the ceiling and walls sprayed her body with warm, slightly brackish water. She cringed at the dirty liquid but after a moment realized it must have had something in it - or maybe it was just the water there… for whatever reason, it was very soothing… drugs? She hung there, arms aching as long minutes passed, until the demon deemed her clean or better or something. He caught her when she fell, when the shackles just as suddenly disappeared. He set her on her feet and slapped her hip with a stick he wore over his shoulder. He herded her through a doorway that, like the demon and shackles, seemed to appear out of thin air. She blushed furiously, tears again streaming down her face as she was forced - naked – horrified – down a narrow, warm, dark hallway lit solely by a single torch. The demon matched her slow, limping pace; he seemed unhurried. The hallway was endless… they walked and walked. They encountered no one. Buffy's initial relief at having no one else see her, no one else violate her with their eyes, turned to despair as they continued on, passing no doors, no passages to the outside world. There was no escape. She was so tired. They continued walking, walking, walking. The demon touched her arm; she stumbled to a stop and raised her eyes. The hallway had abruptly ended; they now stood at the entrance of a large, shadowed chamber. She looked up at the demon, afraid to enter, looking for his help, desperate for his help. The demon prodded her forward and once she was fully inside, he and his torch vanished. She heard a door slam behind her. She was plunged into complete darkness. Her heart raced. What now? Terror filled her and she forced herself to take deep breaths, forced herself to not cry, tried to focus on her senses, get her bearings, to decide a plan of action. She remained alone and, well aware that this could change at any moment, began to search the room, moving as quickly as her beaten body would allow, moving to where she remembered a wall, feeling around for anything useful. The walls were smooth. She felt her way to where she believed she had heard the door slam. There was nothing. No door, nothing to use as a weapon. Frantic, she began to move faster, fighting through her pain, her breath stopping when she heard a faint rustling noise that seemed to be coming from all around her. She screamed as a gentle brush of something ... fingers? – a tendril-like thing whispered across her stomach. She pushed it off her, whirled, and ran blindly across the room. She had to find a way out. It was dark, so dark. Where was the wall? The thing swept lightly across her nipples. It had followed her. She pushed it off, turned... she ran, breath catching: the rustling noise was growing louder, moving closer. The thing swept across her stomach, suddenly in front of her. She turned… it swept across her thighs, her neck. She pushed at it, pushed it away. The sound grew louder still, it was coming from all around her… surrounding her. She turned, a tendril brushed across her back, another across her breasts…there was more than one... touches were coming faster now. They were everywhere, touching her everywhere. She pushed at them, she couldn't get them off her, they kept coming, she was trapped. They lightly brushed her thighs, her neck, her breasts, back, buttocks, calves…rubbed her, lightly, lightly… exciting her… no no no, she didn't want this… they were exciting her… please no! And then, like a tickling, a tendril moved between her legs and slipped inside her. Panicking, whirling, she fought harder to get away, slapped furiously at them, but there was no 'away', nowhere to go. They moved wherever she moved, followed her around the room. More entered her… they were stroking inside her… they were rubbing the rest of her body. She began to moan, to cry… in both pleasure and horrified anguish. She wanted it to stop, she didn't want this, she *didn't*. How could this feel good? Why were they doing this to her? Why? They moved across her, moved in and out of her, massaging her… pussy. With every minute, more seemed to come from nowhere, rubbing her, beginning to stroke her sore anus, taking advantage of the wetness that now seemed to pour from inside her and using it to nearly painlessly enter her abused rear passage. She was sobbing outright now, humiliated, moaning… it felt so good, it shouldn't feel good, so wrong, so wrong. She struggled fruitlessly to get away from this violation, pushed at them, tried to get them off her. She was screaming, sobbing, as her body tightened, as she neared orgasm. Oh, God, why is this happening? They weren't stopping… they covered her body now, massaging the sweet spot inside her, rubbing gently at her clit... stroking all the erogenous zones on the outside of her body – her belly, her neck, her ears, her thighs, her nipples. She weakened… she felt herself break. It felt so good, so warm... she tried to fight it, she lamely tried to slap them away. Two tendrils wrapped around her wrists and pulled them taut to the ceiling. Others stroked her breasts... God, it felt so good. Several more wrapped around her hips, ankles, her thighs, supporting her body weight as she was lifted off the floor. They kept stroking… so good, so good … she was on fire… screaming, screaming, she... Oh God…so good… screaming in pleasure… she … coming… so GOOD …then coming again… and again… again. Over and over, too good, too much. She sobbed, hoarsely screamed. It was endless. She couldn't stop. Oh, God, it hurt. More and more fingers, more tendrils… harder now like leather... Oh God it's the whip from before… these are what the whip from before was made from... at first gently and then harder, harder, a steady, pounding rhythm... they flogged her body - her buttocks, her back, thighs, stomach… her breasts, the soles of her feet... her face. It stung… God, it stung. She was bleeding and she welcomed it … make me bleed make me bleed… anything to stop the endless painful pleasure she was being subjected to by the other tendrils. The fingers inside filled her, thicker, harder now as well… she was being filled beyond what her body could handle. She was being whipped full out now… pounded, throttled, by the thickening fingers inside her, bleeding inside now as well as outside, her sensitive membranes breaking and tearing, her body stinging everywhere, her face raw with the constant flow of tears on her abraded flesh. She prayed please God please kill me please but the torture only increased and escalated, her Slayer body betraying her, keeping her alive despite the pain… so much pain… so much pleasure… she continued to sob, to orgasm…over and over… each one more intense… screaming… continually screaming … hoarse, rasping, no sound leaving her body yet still she screamed on…. Hard to breathe now, she couldn’t breathe… a tendril was wrapped around her throat, tighter and tighter, squeezing her. Her heart, it was collapsing… her thoughts swam in her head… she wasn’t losing consciousness, she was dying, they were killing her and thank you God forgive me… there was no way out of this and she was hungry for death… anything to escape the pounding... the… oh God constant pleasure… choking as she came again… the pain… anything to stop…. Her head… exploding… spots… spots… in her eyes… she was… losing… fading… Mommy… I'm sorry… Angel… she… dying… oh, God, please.… The world went black. *** Acid… acid on her skin... it hurts… you're hurting me… oh, God it burns… rubbing acid on her skin, her insides, oh God they were burning her inside.… She awakened screaming, choking, rasping… wailing as she tried to fight them off. But they seemed to expect that as the one held her down and the other flipped her over and continued the treatment on her other side. She passed out. *** There was sunlight on her face, on her body… all of her felt warm. Eyes still closed, she took a deep breath, enjoying the warm feeling, stretched her arms above her head…. Her eyes flew open when she felt the scratch of straw poking through fabric underneath her naked body. It wasn't a dream. The stone room she was in was small, with a window set high and deep on the wall above her "bed" of straw. A heavy wooden door stood opposite the window. What was she still doing there? Why wasn't she… she thought she'd died. What was going on? Trying to avoid panicking, and only half succeeding, she forced herself to assess the situation – to stay in Slayer mode as much as possible. Safer that way. She stood up on her toes and tried to see out the window. She could see the outskirts of a village below, but the window was too high for her to see much of anything else. Trying for purchase on the window's edge, she used all of her strength to attempt to pull herself up to get a better look when it hit her. She wasn't in pain. Her arms weren't marked. Dropping back to the floor, she looked down, utterly stunned that not only were her arms fine, her entire body looked fine. In fact, she realized that even on the inside, she felt much like she had before she’d been kidnapped – like it had been an eternity since she’d even by touched by Angel, other than holding his hand and accepting his chaste kisses as they patrolled. She leaned against the door, stunned. It was then she noticed the sky. Just outside her window, high above her, the sky was bright with the midday *suns*. Plural. Panicked, she flew at the door handle and pulled hard. The door didn't move. It was either too heavy or locked from the outside. She was trapped. She was a prisoner. She was in prison… stuck in a little room like those, what were they called? – cells! – in that prison at home… Alca…. What was it called again? She'd visited with her parents over Christmas when she was in... when was it? Eighth grade? Yes, it was Eighth. Alca-something. Alca-taz? She shook her head desperate to clear her foggy memories, now afraid. It was a famous place. She should remember it. Why couldn't she remember it? She pulled on the door again. And again. It didn't budge. *** She lay curled on her "bed", terrified, her arms hugging her knees, rocking herself, praying desperately for a miracle to get her out of there. A key was inserted into her door; she pulled her legs closer, desperate to hide herself, desperate to disappear. Please, no more touching…please…. The lock disengaged with a heavy clunk and she heard the scrape of a bar of wood being removed. The door opened slowly, creaking, the thick wood pushed aside to admit a short, black-robed demon carrying a tray of the cheese-like stuff, more fruit and some kind of meat. She scurried back and huddled in the corner, pulling her legs even closer in an attempt to fully cover her nakedness; the demon didn’t even seem to notice her predicament, merely placed the tray on the end of her “bed” and silently exited the room. The door slammed behind him, the lock loudly engaged and she breathed again… she was once again alone. No one to look at her, to touch her. She sat up and wiped her tears from her eyes and eyed the tray of food. She could smell it…. She didn’t want to eat their food but she was ravenous and the thought of *not* eating made her want to vomit. She grabbed the cheese, quickly devouring it, remembering as she did what Pava had said… that time moved differently there. Something like a year to each day. Was her hunger going with the time difference? And if she could remember the time difference why couldn't she remember the name of the stupid prison? What was wrong with her? She finished the meat next, hardly even tasting it – God, she was *so* hungry - and then moved onto the fruit, still lost in thought. Should she fight the next demon that entered… make her escape that way? She decided against it - they were so strong, so much stronger than her. For now, she’d observe and plan her escape. Her meal over too quickly, she was standing to make a second attempt at pulling herself up on the window's edge, when she heard the lock turn again. She crawled into the corner, hiding herself once more. The short demon led an extraordinarily human looking demon-woman in. Buffy was struck by the fact that she knew, without a doubt, that the female was a demon. Her Slayer senses still seemed to work. But if they worked, why was she sure Willow stood a better chance at lifting something heavy than she did? “Parraneu, Bryn. I trust det you sleep well?” Buffy was so busy attempting to adequately cover her nakedness, it took her a moment to fully grasp just how incredibly beautiful the demon was. She was tall – regal - almost six feet, thin but curvy, with waist-length ebony hair that shone like glass against her ivory skin. Her striking dark blue, almost violet eyes were complemented by her full length violet robe-like dress. The woman cocked her head clearly expecting Buffy to answer. Realizing she’d been silent for too long, Buffy nodded. The woman smiled pleasantly. “My name is Qa. I will be your handler. I will see det you get adequate food and rest and det you are properly balanced. I see you finished your meal.... Are you ready?” Buffy blinked. “Ready?” She whispered. Qa smiled. “Come wit' me.” She turned and left the room, clearly expecting a naked Buffy to follow. “Qa! Uh, Ms. Qa. Please....” Qa turned back and looked at Buffy expectantly, maintaining the same pleasant expression. “Um, I don’t have.... Where are my clothes?” “Clothes?” Qa looked confused and then her face lit up in understanding. “Ah, your garments. I was told dey destroyed during your first Taking.” Seeing Buffy’s blank expression, she continued. “When de Pava and his parn took you, I believe it was den your Eart' garments were destroyed. I am sorry if dey were of sentimental value.” “No!” Buffy held up a hand. “I don’t need those clothes particularly, but I have no others.” Qa smiled. “I believe I have some of de former Slayer’s clothes in my apartments. If you would like to wear clothes while in your quarters, I do not see problem. Now, come wit' me.” Again, she turned and left and Buffy stood and, reluctantly, hyperaware of her nakedness but seeing the whip in the short demon’s hand, saw no choice but to follow. *** “Parraneu, Bryn. Thank you for joining me. I wishing to speak to you before I leef,” Pava said, gruffly. Buffy stood with her arms crossed over her breasts and, one hand reaching to cover her sex as best she could, looked around the sun-drenched room Qa had led her into, shrinking back toward the door when she spied the three other demons from the day before... the ones who had violated her. They looked her over for a moment… as if she were... food... but then turned back to wooden bowls from which they were eating something that looked like oatmeal. She fought hard not to cry. She would not cry. “I be traveling for several weeks on business for de Schoek. Normally, I never leef you so soon, but dere is problem in one of de small districts: A new Juranna has moved in seeking de Tra’a, and I must attend meeting. As I not here to directly supervise your duties, I haf ask my pran”... at this, the three demons looked up from eating... “who all speak English, to make sure you carry out your duties.” He waived his hand and two terrified, bound, young and clearly human girls were led in. “Bryn, dese are Lorat and Tanna. I’m sure you sense dey human girls, slayers-in-waiting your Director forward to me when he learn of my sit-iation. Currently, dey untouched and I have no need for human girls... dey lack de... resilience of an already-called Slayer. I will release dem unharmed back to your Eart' if I return and find dat you have... behaved. “Qa, should de Slayer misbehave, haf de pran take de girls to de Square and let de Clansmen feast. Allow de girls to survive for seven passings of de moons - balance dem a bit, if you must - and den auction off de kill.” Turning back to Buffy, he smiled. “De Slayer shall watch it all. Are we understood?” Buffy swallowed hard, looking over at the clearly *English* speaking girls who were trying hard not to sob. “Uh, yes... understood.” *** Buffy stood near the for-once visible door as Pava and Qa spoke rapidly in a rough, guttural language. The door was directly blocked by two large grey demons who openly stared at her. She moved against the wall to cover her nakedness better when one of the short, black-robed demons approached her and pulled her hands away from her body easily – how were they so strong and she so weak? Before she could re-cover herself, he pulled her hands behind her and bound them. He moved to gag her until Qa stopped the demon with a wave of her hand. “You will be-heff, yes, Bryn?” She smiled, moving toward the door. Buffy. My name is *Buffy*. The words died on her lips as she caught a glimpse of the still cowering girls, huddled by the wall, staring at her like she was their executioner... which Buffy realized she was. She swallowed and nodded and was led by Qa into another brilliantly sunny, large room. It contained seven wooden chairs, all set on daises -- like pedestals. Six of the chairs were occupied by young girls and demons, all tied, hands behind their backs, their legs open, calves and ankles bound to the chair legs. She bit back a moan and, terrified, turned to run… to escape…. One of the short demons easily caught her and dragged her, kicking and screaming, to the center chair. While another held her down, the demon tied her like the other girls, stuffed her mouth with cloth to stifle her screams. She tried to spit it out, she pulled desperately at her restraints, trying and failing to free herself. The demon slapped her across the face and grabbed her hair and held her still. Panicking, tied and held so she was incapable of moving at all, she felt herself "check out", found herself numbly focusing on other things. The wood of the chair was hard and warm - Buffy was struck by the fact that the temperature of this room, like her own, was neither warm nor cold, but comfortable. There seemed to be only one exit-- Her eyes stung as the demon slapped her again, forcing her back to the present… grabbed her hair and forced her to look at Qa who was beginning to speak. Qa addressed the group in the other language, periodically interrupting her speech with instructions in English for Buffy. Buffy’s eyes widened when she realized that her darkest thoughts, her greatest fears were being realized. They had a list of... “reservations” for Buffy and the others, but mostly for Buffy. The Slayer was a “delicacy,” Qa reminded her, a delight for the most powerful Betharans. The head of each Clan and his family had Slayer "privileges" and these privileges were used as currency of a sort. They could curry favor by trading their "brohts" and had many options and ways to “enjoy” her. Buffy fought back tears, fought to breathe, as she was told what her role was there: She was a demon-whore… theirs to punish, to beat, to fuck. Their toy to use as they liked. Many demons knew that she was the killer of their Earth "brothers and sisters" and Qa warned that this would... color their punishment of her. Qa continued in her pleasant voice, reassuring her that she would always be properly balanced and pointing out that Buffy was lucky because the Pava had the best Roffs – healers – in all of Bethara. Balancing could undo almost all physical damage. Except for a Celebration, of course. A Celebration. Her final death. Fighting to urge the vomit, she wanted desperately to ask how a Celebration occurred. She realized she still had hope, a tiny hope, that she could return to Earth and to her mother, to Angel... her friends. She didn’t want to die. “Good. I see you ready. Let’s begin.” Qa turned and exited the room.
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