Full Circle

***Warning: Child sexual abuse, not detailed but referred to, ahead***


Five months later.
Tuesday, 5.45 am

So here I am, sittin' on my side of what's now known as 'our' bed, watching me Claimant... boss... *master*... whatever... sleep.

Made a stupid fucking deal a few months ago. Knew I did pretty much from the first nod of me little ol' head. Didn't have much choice, but. Oh, I know I coulda jus' walked out, but fear is a powerful thing. Gets you in such a tizz that you can only really see what's in front of your eyes, bugger anythin' else going on around you. Blinkers were on and all. See, that's what happened to me. Was so f'n scared of being thrown out on my arse, giving Riley and his mates a perfect opportunity to get me again, that I couldn't see anythin' other than the offer Harris was waving under me nose.

Christ, I was so bloody pathetic. Snivelling, weeping like a newborn babe, shaking so much, anyone woulda thought I was epileptic or somethin'. Snotting everywhere and throwing up. Even as I agreeing to what he was offering me... demanding of me, I kept wondering if it was all for real? Xander wouldn't really hit me... would he? And of course, found out the hard way that he would. Will throw in a few kicks as well, jus' for good measure if he wants, had the bruises the next day to prove he would. Surely Harris didn't really jus' stick his dick down me throat, he couldn't have jus' wiped himself off on me face? Again, it wasn't until he slapped his cock across me nose that it all hit home.

I had jus’ agreed that Xander Harris would be my Claimant and I was his Adored.

Of course, I look back now and I think I must have still been in shock from what... you know... Arseholes Inc. did... when they ra-...

Hmmmpf.

See how pathetic I am, still can't bring meself to think about it... the crypt and ... and everything else.

Anyway, I *know* I was still in shock from... *that*... because no sane person would ever consider Xander Harris a safe option. Not if you've ever seen him in one of his tempers, been kicked and punched at until you're cowering from him in the corner of a room, arms protecting your head and you wondering when and where he's gonna hit you next. All the while he's goin' off his nut about how one of his friends back-chatted him that day and all he could do was smile and agree or how he's had to work overtime then come home to a shit load of bills and it's all my fault because I'm not putting in for them.

Missed it the first time. Couldn't see his temper for the life of me. Don't get me wrong though, when I was livin' with him freshly chipped and tied to the armchair, I could smell him get into a snit every now and again, but he would jus' flounce out the door and come home a few hours later a hell of a lot calmer. Still pissed, but not as much. Mind you, back then, I used to deliberately pick him up on it, get him riled up so he would jus' fuck off and leave me in some peace. He's so good at hiding the temper from his friends, hiding his emotions beneath the chirpy, goofy, wise cracking donut boy exterior he had going and that's the only front he makes sure his friends and workmates see. Wouldn't do for them to know that there's more to the boy than wide grins, stick out ears and eternally bad jokes. Now, though, I wouldn't dream of winding him up. Hell, wouldn't even dare *look* at him wrong. Would only get me a slap across me head, bastard makes sure he catches me ear so that it stings real good. Got heavy hands as well so he can put some weight behind his punches.

I think it's only the fact that, this time, my survival depends on him that makes me pay closer attention to his moods.

He will get close to me, chest to chest and shove his face into mine when he finally does get angry enough to lose control. Takes him a bit to lose it though, and most of the time hes ces calm himself down so that he doesn't lose it completely. But when he does, Jesus Christ, I jus' wanna be outta there... anywhere that’s away from him. Can't move a bloody inch, always gotta be like a block of stone and let him pace up and down while he mutters to himself about how unfair life is. I shed one hair while he's doin' his nut and I cop it. Long, hard and brutal. He jus' lays into me, no holds barred. Why should he have to hold himself back anyway, not as if he's gonna hurt me is he? But he does, deliberately. Harris will give me a few kicks to the head with those steel capped boots of his, grind me head into the wall so hard that me scalp gets all bruised and I get one of those weird bald patches from where me hair's been all rubbed off. Have to do me hair real careful like for a week or so after tempers like that. He'll bend me fingers back till I can feel the tendons snapping and I'll be blubbering for all I'm worth, trying to get me fingers free all the while he's telling me to shut up and stop the tears. Fuck, one day... he was so bloody angry, he smacked me in the mouth with his coffee thermos... jus'... *BAM*, mouth full of metal and cold coffee. Teeth are the hardest things in a vampire's body, almost lost a few that day, though. He hates it when I cringe from him, can't help it though. He smells so bad when he's angry, I jus' have to turn me face from him, try and get away from the stench. Most of the time though, he doesn't acknowledge his mood swings and usually ignores the fact that they set me tears off.

I'm still cryin' almost every day. Seriously, I don't think I'll ever stop. Some days it’s barely a sniffle, others... like Niagara Falls. Most of the time, *I* don't even know what sets me off, could be anythin'. A smell, a sound and sometimes, I'm cryin' because I'm so bloody grateful that Harris is there to stroke his fingers through me hair after a doozy of a nightmare. He massages the back of me neck and shoulders, rubs all the tension out before continuing onto me scalp. He's good that way; he'll keep making those soothing little circles over me head and temples until I'm asleep again. He's so patient with the nightmares and me. Doesn't matter how many times I've woken him up during the night either, Xander will jus' do it all over again, make sure I'm relaxed enough to go back to sleep. Some nights, I've woken him up four or five times but he doesn't make a comment, jus' looks at me with those big brown eyes of his and gives me a sleepy half smile until I drift off. Some nights, I can't help smiling back at him because he makes me feel safe. Other nights, I wonder what it would be like if he did more than jus' pet at me... spoon me. You know what, every morning... without fail... I wake up still clinging to his hand like there's no tomorrow. I usually wake up before him, lay starin' at the grotty ceiling until it's time for him to wake up and when he wakes up before me, he does the same thing. Gets me all warm thinking about it.

Sad bloody git, ain't I?

I hate it when the clock radio alarm goes off. When that happens, it's time for me to give Harris his morning blowjob. Sounds weird, don't it? Giving him his morning blowjob... like I was handing him his morning paper. Bit more effort in the blowjob though. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate the alarm because it's blowjob time... well, actually I do... but I don't hate the blowjobs themselves... does that make sense? I hate the bloody thing because it makes what I've gotten used to and even like a little... mundane... unspontaneous. Every morning it's the same, like bloody clockwork. Quick blowjob, then he's outta bed and into the shower. That high-pitched pipping signifies the start to my dullard of a day as well. Watch the boy make a pig sty of the kitchen while having breakfast, he goes off to work and I'm left with doin' the dishes, washing, making the bed, watching the telly and listening out for the answering machine. About twice a week, Harris will leave a message on the machine, tellin' me to jus' heat up a can for his dinner. Boy never can decide until he's about due home. Jus' before Haes hes hes home at six, I'll heat up his dinner if he wants some, otherwise he gets takeout and we both eat dinner in front of the telly. Other nights, he'll come and get me so we can turn up at the Watcher's shop for the usual end of the world research things. Can't stand being near Farm boy and the Slayer, so I'll jus' sit meself in a corner and stare at a wall, make sure I'm as far away from them two as I can be while still being close to the boy. Watcher doesn't bother handing me a book these days. He hands me a mug of blood, shoos me away and forgets about me till the meeting's over. Why bother getting the retard to do anythin'? The witches always ask how I'm doin', the blonde one usually makes a point of comin' over sometime during a meeting and sitting for a bit with me. Doesn't say anythin' much except for telling me what's happening on the University Campus and the newest scandals or the latest spell that Red has buggered up. Don't care ly, ly, but it's nice... laugh a bit at times. Reckon I know more about Miss Kitty Fantastico's adventures than even Red does; hate the bloody thing... would love to introduce it to the lovely clinging confines of a plastic bag, but some days...

She asked me, one day, not too long after the crypt incident, why I didn't move from Sunnydale, make a fresh start for meself? Jus' shrugged and grunted at her, I mean, what do I say? Write down that I'm still scared that Riley and his mates would track me down? Tell her that no matter where I went, the tale of a vampire who was unable to speak and bite, one who couldn't even go into his proper face except for feeding would spread like wildfire through the demon ranks? Describe to her jus' how 'persuasive' Xander would be in gettin' me to stay if there was even a hint of me goin' anywhere? Glinda kept askin’ me though, pesterin' me to 'move on with me life'. Finally, she poked at me so much, I ignored her whenever she came over to talk at me at the followin' meetings. Yeah, at me... no one talks with me anymore, it's either *to* me or *at* me but never *with* me. She got the message after I did it a few times, apologised, and nothin’s been said about it since.

Harris doesn't offer me the choice of going on patrol with him and the others. He always takes me home first, tells me that he'll be back soon and not to stress while he's gone, making sure that the basement door is locked before leaving. Tells me to be in bed before he gets home and like a good Adored, I do as he says. Of course, I watch the telly with the sound real low until I hear him clumping up to the basement door. Then, the telly gets snapped off and I'm in bed like a shot. Waiting to give my Claimant his nightly blowjob, that is, if he isn't too injured or tired. Otherwise, I'll jus' patch him up and then we'll go to sleep. Honestly, if I was allowed to go on patrol, I don't think I could cope with it. Jus' the thought of going out at night in the company of Bitchy and Arsehole sends me off into a panic attack. Don't trust Iowa not to stake me by 'accident'. Can't tell the boy that, though, can't tell him I'm afraid of Riley and his mates, don't want him to know. I'm too embarrassed and ashamed that I'm terrified of a pack of humans. Fuckin' terrified of Harris when he's in a snit as well.

Fantastic bloody life I lead, don't I? Have to keep reminding meself that it could be worse. I could be flat on me back with a never-ending rotating line up of all the members of Arseholes Inc. Could still be in the white rooms of the Initiative. Could be fuckin' the Slayer. Arrrgh.. would rather be shaggin' the Watcher's wrinkled arse, least he's got curves and compared to her, a decent pair of tits.

Still, Harris has held up to his promise an' it's not that bad livin' with him most times. He's takes me out to the movies once a month and last time, I got to choose what we saw, something real violent. Blood and guts everywhere, brilliant it was. Even buys me popcorn or them jube things. Been shopping with him a few times, I mean, proper like to the Mall, not jus' the supermarket. When he's not in one of his tempers, he's an alright kid to be around. Happy to do anythin' really. Yeah, he beats the shit out of me and he's only forced me to blow him a few times; most times I'm more than happy to swallow. And that’s only because he's been out drinking with his work buddies, listening to them tell tales of how well their girlfriends and wives blow them and then come home sloshed and as horny as a goat. He's a gropey little bugger when he's been out drinking, too, hands every which way. Well, everywhere but me cock, that is. Don't think he's quite connecting the dots though and I'm sure as hell not going to give him any encouragement to take a step up from the blowjobs, no matter how many times I've thouthoughts of him taking it further. Anyway, as the boy keeps tellin' me, he *ain't gay*.

Right, sure, mate. Three heavy drinks and the lad is well and truly past the 'curiously bi' line. Keep waiting for him to plant one on me, stick somethin' other than his cock down me throat. Mind you, the morning after one of his lil' groping sessions, nothin' is mentioned and like usual, the boy completely 'forgets' ain' in' went on at all. And of course, it jus' wouldn't do for me to go and remind him.

He has taken care of me, though. I get 3 meals a day, the freshest blood the boy can buy from the local butcher or at a pinch, the supermarket. That's not including all the human food he buys for me when we go grocery shopping. He's bought me a couple of new shirts, boxers and another pair of socks. Makes sure I've always got the right conditioner for me hair, the blue one that takes the brassiness out of bleached hair. Boy grumbles each time he forks $15 out for it, keeps asking why a cheaper brand won't do. Get a new one every few weeks without fail. Don't get hair gel though, refuses point blank to buy it for me as he doesn't like it. He hates when he can't run his fingers through me hair easily. What can I do but jus' whap a smile on me face and go along with it? Puttin' up with poofy, foofy curly hair aint' nothin' compared to one of his little snits.

Still, I can't believe at times jus' how far I've fallen. From being one of the Scourge of Europe’s favoured Childer and Adored, to being a whore for a much younger man.

Being a whore is something I know all about. Before being Turned by the ever high and mighty Angelus and becoming his Adored, I was a pretty good thief. Only bloody fell into it by accident though. Sorta had to make me own way after I found out what sorta family business me Mam, me Mother, had wanted to introduce me to.

Me old Mam was a whore. Back in the day, the polite term for it was barmaid. Me and me Mam, there was jus' no doubting I was hers... even if she didn't know who me Dad was. Mam always had a few blokes a night so it coulda been anyone. Even though she worked out of the public bar of one the numerous inn's in London, I doubt she ever wiped a table in her life. She was beautiful and still looked untouched for all her years as a whore. She had me so young, we was always mistaken for brother and sister not Mother and child. We shared the same thick, honey blonde hair and delicate white skin that not even a week's built up grime could completely hide. Both had cheekbones that were the envy of all the whores that called Tennison Mews home. Me nose is the same as hers, but a little larger and jus' a few more light freckles. Hands and even me feet were the same size as my Mam's. Me eyes though, she used to say they were from me Dad. Weren't like me Mam's, hers were brown. And me hair was full of curls, not dead straight like hers.

When I was real young, too little to understand what me Mam did with all the blokes she brought home, I would ask who me Dad was. One day, she jus' pointed out a bloke on the street and said, 'Him, my blue eyed Will, him.' For ages, I honestly thought he was me Dad and I would look for him each time I went on an errand. Used to come home in tears for bloody weeks afterwards, all 'cause I didn't see him. Finally woke up to meself and realised that she was havin' me on.

Forgave her, though. Had to, she was me Mam and I loved her. Worshipped the bloody ground she walked on, I did. She wasn't like all me friends' Mams. Their's were always ready with a backhander or a leather strop when you dared look at 'em sideways. Used to fall asleep to the sound of me friends' Mams belting them around and screaming at them; the walls at the Mews were paper-thin so you got used to it after a while. Can remember listening to little Peter bawlin' his head off one night. The banging and sound of flesh against flesh was worse than usual, when it went quiet all of a sudden. Jus' fell asleep, relieved it was finally over and tellin' meself I'd pinch one of me Mam's toffees for him the next day. Didn't know his Mam had beaten him to death in one of her drunken fits. She was hung only a month later. All me friends thought me Mam was on her way to bein' a saint, loved her almost as much as I did. And she was, Mam never laid a finger on me, spoilt me rotten she did. Always made sure I came first. Kept me clean and fed the best she could. All me friends were apprenticed out by eight to craftsmen or workin' in the factories but not me, Mam wouldn't hear of it, no matter how much better the small wage would have made life. Still, I did me share by runnin' errands and carryin' parcels for the gentry. A weirweird old blokes used to jus' want me to sit with them on a park bench. They would give me a couple of bob jus' to talk to them, and some of the old buggers would keep touchin' me between the legs. Would grab me hand and rub it between their legs. Didn't like that an' I knew it was wrong, so I told Mam. She went real mad, shook me and told me I was special and had to be kept fresh or else I wouldn't be worth as much. I didn't understand what she meant but I wasn't allowed down the park by meself again. Only time I ever saw her angry. Mam even taught me how to write me name, the only bit of schoolin' I had when I was with her. Still went to bed hungry some nights, and even though I was a runt for me age, I was better off than most.

Wasn't until a few year's later that I found out what a cold hearted bitch she was.

As I got older, I sorta learned for meself what she was doin' with all the men she brought home. There was only a torn, worn-through old sheet separating her 'working space' from the rest of the small room we rented. Used to peek through the holes in the sheet, wonderin' why me Mam was always gruntin' and groanin' when she was with one of her customers. Anyhow, if I hadn't guessed, me friends had all told me what she did for a livin'. Stupid sods, not like their Mam's weren't doin' the same. Bloody hell, even one of their Dad's was a whore to the blokes that were constantly goin' through the Mew's front doors, although, that was jus' a tad more hush-hush. No one really spoke about that.

I musta been about 9, can't really remember, when one night, she brought around a well dressed gentleman. I never used to take much notice of who she brought back, but havin' one of the well-to-do standin' in our grimy little hovel was a shock. Bit of a surprise he was; seen him hangin' around me street, would give me an' me friends a wave now an' then but never seen him in the Mews before. I was a bit of a shy lad back then, jus' sat by the dying hearth playin' with a broken tin soldier and watched as he hmmm'd his way around our room in disgusted disbelief, pokin' at things with his ivory handled walking stick while me Mam was behind the old bed sheet, makin' herself a bit more appealing. It wasn't until his gaze fell upon me that he smiled; his whole face lit up into a huge grin. It was like time had stopped as we were starin' at each other. Jus' couldn't help but stare at him and let me gaze follow him as he slowly turned around, grabbed hold of a chair beside the small table up against one wall and dragged it over to the hearth. Sittin' down, he glanced over at where me Mam was washin' herself before turnin' back to me, askin' me what me name was, how old I was, did I have a little brother... that sorta thing.

Too shy I was to answer him, so I jus' kept sitting and starin' at him. Didn't deter him though, he jus' started tellin' me about how lovely me eye's were and how he had never seen such a pretty blue before. He leaned down close to me face, only for his smile to broaden when he saw I had freckles. Told me that, with me blond curly hair and small build, I looked like a little angel . A cough from Mam broke through me trance, promptin' me to do what I always did when she had a bloke over, pull on me winter coat and go wait on the landing while Mam did her business. This time, Mam stopped me, telling me to take me coat off and turn around with me arms out a few times.

Jus' shrugged and did it, thought that maybe the gentleman was gonna give Mam one of his kids' old coats for me and he needed to see me size. Wasn't unusual, sometimes Mam accepted food or clothing instead of coin. Some of her regulars used to bring me sweets and rosewater perfume for Mam; sometimes, I'd even get a toy. Most were broken and beyond repair by the time they got to me, but I didn't give a toss. All I cared about was that I had a brand new toy in me hot little hands. Then the gentleman sidled up to Mam's side, whisperin' in her ear while they both looked at me. Mind you, I was still turnin' around as asked and by this time, I was gettin' well beyond dizzy. Jus' as I was about to tumble onto the floor, he stopped me, gathering me close to his side. I had a bad feelin' about him, don't know what it was, but all I knew was that I didn't like him one bit. So, as dizzy as I was, I pushed meself away from him, tripping over me own feet only to crash in a heap on the old mat in front of the cold hearth.

Me Mam and him jus' laughed at me even as I told 'em both to shut it. That only made 'em laugh all the more, so like the sulky little puss that I was, I turned me back on 'em and went back to playin' with me tin soldier. Could hear 'em whisperin' to each other though, him tellin' Mam that 'the boy is simply splendid and a delight to behold but I must know more before making my mind up.', Mam answering him back, saying 'he was' and that the gentleman was welcome at any time, so long as he didn't try to spoil the fruit before payment had been made. Had no bloody idea what they were on about so I jus' ignored them as they laughed again, both walking out of our tiny room and into the hallway.

And thus began Lord Rufus Spencer's visits. Regular like clockwork they were, every second Tuesday at 7pm. Went on for a few months. Every time he came, he seemed more interested in me than with me Mam. Used to sit by the hearth with me, him on a chair and me by his feet. Much as I had taken an instant dislike to him, me Mam had told me that I had to be nice to him as he was bringin' us new clothin' and sweets 'cause he had taken a bit of a shine to me. Mam told me that his boy had died in some sort of accident and that I should be kind to him because of it. Didn't want a bloody bar of him to tell the truth, but since me Mam insisted, I would sit by his feet and listen to him waffle on about his house and horses in the country, sucking on one of the pieces of honeyed toffee or chewin' me way through a bag of caramel melts that he had brought with him. Couldn't help meself though, he had such a rich, strong voice, he would lure me in with stories of how big his garden was and how even the lowliest kitchen scrub had it good at his place. So even though I hated bein' near him, I found meself eager for one of his stories whenever he stepped through our doorway. With him, I could forget about the dirty pigsty that was me childhood London. After a while, I forgot that I didn't like him and little by little, I got used to him.

Don't remember when it started or even how, but his visits progressed from me sittin' on the floor to sittin' in his lap, cradled against his chest with me head resting against his shoulder. He had big hands, not unlike the Harris whelp, an' they would wander over me, never really restin' anywhere in particular, though. An' I really didn't mind it, after all, he wasn't old like the blokes in the park and I was allowed to call him Mr. Rufus, not Sir or Lord Spencer as one befitting me station should have. I was his friend and as both him and Mam would tell me, I was special. Besides, he would treat me Mam real nice, sometimes bring her a gift as well. If it made Mam happy for me to be nice to him, then I was happy meself to do it. All through the visits, Mam would be sittin' at the table, sewing up a tear in her stockings or darning a patch on one of me shirts. One eye always on Mr. Rufus and me.

One night, all hell broke loose.

It was a Tuesday night and Mr. Rufus was due to visit in only a few minutes but I was all in a panic 'cause me Mam was nowhere to be seen. It wasn't unusual for her to be runnin' late but the clapper's, police, had been trolling the streets and hassling a lot of the working girls and boys. Even some of the local knockshops had been raided and closed down in the past few weeks. I was real worried that Mam had been arrested for prostitution. Even if she was lawfully employed as a barmaid, they could still haul her in for questioning and in them days, there was no such thing as legal aid and lawyers for the poor. I was in a right state, runnin' up and down the different floors and hallways of the Mews, askin' all me friends and neighbours if me Mam was in the lockup or somewhere else. Every time one of them said they didn't know, me heart would pound jus' a little harder. As the last neighbour shook their head and shut the door in me face, I jus' didn't know what to do and jus' sorta collapsed on the steps, bawlin' me eyes out. It was well past half 8 and even if I went to the prison and found out that she was there, I was sure that the prison guards would jus' take me and drag me away like so many of the prisoner's kids and shove me into one of them workhouses. If that happened, there was no way me Mam would ever get me back. Lucky for me, Sally's Dad saw me cryin' on the fourth floor staircase and asked me what was wrong. When I told him, he promised me that he'd collect me before work the next morning and together, we would go down to the prison where he would ask on me behalf, keeping me right out of sight. That way, the workhouse wouldn't get their hands on me for a little while. He was a good Dad to Sally, only belted up her Mam, not Sally herself.

Even though I was still snivellin', I ambled back down to our room only to be gob smacked when I saw Mr. Rufus sittin' on a chair by a fully stoked hearth. I hadn't even known he had a key to the room and I really didn't care at that moment, I was so bloody glad to see me friend. I slammed the door shut and jus' ran straight at him, flew into his lap, bawlin' all over again. He jus' rocked me back and forth, pattin' at me, tellin' me that everythin' was going to be alright an' that he knew about me Mam. I musta cried for ages, held tight against his chest. Finally, he sat me up straight and I looked at him as he asked so he could wipe the tears from me face with one of his fancy lace handkerchiefs. He jus' kept lookin' at me, a strange smile on his face when he told me to close me eyes. Not sure why he wanted me to do it, I closed me eyes, waiting for a few moments when all of a sudden, he kissed me. Not on the cheek, not on me forehead or even in me nest of curls but smack bang full on the lips. Hard, with somethin' wet tryin' to force its way between me lips before he drew away. Me eyes flew open as I wiped at the wetness he had left on me mouth, a frown on me face as a slight uneasiness started to well up inside of me.

Unable to help meself, I yawned, prompting a small laugh from Mr. Rufus. He put me down from his lap, tellin' me it was time for bed and that I should get some rest before visitin' me Mam the next morning. Me chin wobblin' as I tried not to cry again, I jus' nodded me head and slouched off towards me Mam's bed, draggin' a smaller mattress from underneath and back towards the hearth. Thumpin' it down in front of the hearth, I then took a pillow and comforter from her bed before I set about makin up me own bed under Mr. Rufus' watchful eye. With the bed all set up, I started takin' off me clothes when, imagine me surprise, Mr. Rufus gets off his chair to lend me a hand. I told him outright that I was old enough to dress meself, makin' him smile all the more. Mr. Rufus told me he was helpin' only because I was so tired and even as I started tellin' him again that I could do it, a huge yawn almost split me face in two. So, I jus' stood quietly and let him undress me, after all, he was right, I was too tired. As it was, it took Mr. Rufus ages to get all me clothes off and me under the covers. I was so bloody tired, I didn't care about his hands wanderin' that night, even when he kept touchin' me between me backside, was too worried about Mam and anyway, Mr Rufus was me friend. With his friendship in mind, I begged him to stay with me until I was asleep, givin' him a sleepy smile when he promised to stay the whole night. As worried as I was, I found meself driftin' off to sleep, safe in the knowledge that Mr. Rufus really did care about me and that if anyone could help me Mam, Mr. Rufus could.

I don't know how long I had been asleep when I was woken all of a sudden, a touch to me face jerkin' me outta a deep sleep. Lookin' up, in the dim light of the dying hearth, I saw Mr. Rufus kneelin' over me, not wearin' a stitch of clothing. Confused, I looked around me, seein' all his fine clothing scattered on the floor around me bed. Without a word, he slowly sank down onto me saggy mattress, ripping the bedcovers from around me body with one hard tug. Shocked, I froze, not knowing what was going on. Mr. Rufus kept shifting around on the bed before he got himself more comfortable, turnin' his whole body towards me even as he kept playing with the old fella between his legs. As he turned to face me properly, I saw what he was doin' with himself and I knew all about the funny milk that would come from his todger if he kept playin with himself, I've seen it all too often with Mam's blokes. It's horrible, some of them blokes leak over the floor, the rug beside the bed, all over the bed and sometimes, they leak on me Mam. Once, I saw a bloke leak in Mam's mouth. I don't think she liked it, she spat it into the rag she keeps under her pillow.

A shiver flew through me body and don't ask me how, but I jus' knew what Mr. Rufus was doin' was wrong. Tryin' to ignore him, I closed me eyes again and rolled over on me side, away from him. I feigned sleep, listening to him grunt and pant to himself, and all the while he kept touching me hair and running his hand over me backside. His petting got heavier and before long, he was pokin' between me backside, touchin' me hole. Every time he poked at me hole, I wriggled away from him, I jus' didn't like it and I didn't want him to touch me there. Jus' didn't feel right for him to be doin' that.

All of a sudden, I felt his large hands grab me, hauling me towards him. Surprised, I didn't struggle with him, letting him place me flat on me back. Still, I couldn't help but ask him what he was doin' when he spread me legs, lowering himself on top of me. Slag. Dirty little boy, I was called by me friend. Told me how I had been teasin' him for months with the whore ways I had learnt from me Mam. Mr. Rufus kissed me again and this time, I started to push at him to get off me, tellin' him that he was heavy and I couldn't breathe properly. All the while, in between him sayin' I was gonna live at his place in the country now that Mam was in prison, he kept tryin' to thrust his tongue into me mouth. I was goin' to be his 'boy' and how he was hopin' that a bit of rough would last longer than the soft little half noble lad he had purchased from some desperate scullery maid only the year before. Before he had become 'besotted' with me after seein' me for the first time. Told me that if I was lucky, it wouldn't hurt much for the first few times and that I would end up liking it. Mr. Rufus laughed when he said that me Mam musta been stupid to think he would pay her outrageous sale price for me. I swear, I was almost pissin' meself in fright at this point, wasn't till later that I realised I really had let meself go. I had no idea what had gotten into me friend, Mr. Rufus, why he was being so horrible to me. With his heavy hands, he yanked painfully at me todger and without thinking, I bit down hard on his tongue as he forced it inside me mouth, causin' Mr. Rufus to scream in agony. As soon as he screamed, I did as well, callin' for me Mam... anyone... to come and help me, biting at whatever part of Mr. Rufus got near me mouth.

The sound musta woken everyone up because before I knew it, the door was broken down and the room was filled with people pullin' Mr. Rufus from on top of me. There were hands reachin for me from all angles but, with the comforter half wrapped around me naked body, I dodged them all and jus' ran. Ran from me room, down the stairs, out of the Mews and into the bitterly cold night. Heedless to all the pleas from me friends to come back, I ran down the street. I kept running until I reached the one place where I knew without a doubt, I would be safe. Tremblin' in fright and with a shaky hand, I knocked on the front door of one of Mam's oldest customers. A professional thief and forger, but someone who had always treated Mam and me with kindness and respect. Old Jervis always had a sweet ready for me and a coin for Mam, no matter how much he may have needed it himself. He had always told me to come straight to him if anythin' happened to Mam and so, that night, I asked for his shelter and within a few minutes, I had a hot cup of tea and a warm bed waiting for me. Jervis sat me down and asked me what had happened and I told him, told him everything, even what Mr. Rufus had said and done to me. Never seen Jervis angry before but that night, he was ready to boil over. He promised to take care of me until I was full grown and then some. I never went back to me Mam's room, not even for one scrap of clothing, Jervis wouldn't let me. Threatened to turn me over to the workhouse if I so much as looked down me old street again. Was scared stupid that he would, so I did as I was told, didn't go outta the house an' hid meself away whenever someone came over.

It was only a few day's later that I learnt that Mam had been sentenced to two years in a prison workhouse. Jervis wouldn't talk about her, would get a dark look on his face an' jus' shake his head at me, not even when I begged him to. Wouldn't let me see her either, nor was I allowed to muck about outside with the older 'prentices. He would give the other 'prentice's a good belting whenever one of them would start talking about her or Mr. Rufus. Mind you, every time they did, I jus' kept bursting into tears. Heartsick I was about not bein' with Mam. Not only that, no matter what Mr. Rufus had tried to do to me, I jus' wanted to see me friend. Ask him to make things right again. One night, about two weeks after I arrived, Jervis came back from a job, drunk as a Lord and in the darkest mood I had ever seen him in. Me an' all the other lads were sitting down in the kitchen in front of the fire, eatin' our dinner when Jervis jus' took a knife from one of the boy's hands and slashed at me face. As one, the others jus' screamed in fright, instantly cowering away from Jervis. Didn't feel it at first and sorta wondered what the hell had happened but like a flash of lightening, the pain jus' struck me. I almost howled the house down as I danced around with both me hands clapped over me eye, blood dripping everywhere. Jervis ordered one of the older boys to fix me up, tellin' him to do the worst job he could while keepin' it clean. Even as I was bawlin‘, the bastard told me that one day, I would thank him for it. Hurt like hell for days afterwards, didn't go near Jervis unless I needed to for weeks, and I was wary of him for all time because of it. Was sure he was jus' gonna go at me with a knife again. He would watch me at times, starin’ at the livid scar spoilin’ both me eyebrow and me once perfect looks. Wasn't the small scar there is these days, it was an angry red slash that twisted me left eyelid so that it drooped all funny like, always ensuring that it drew people's pityin' attention even as they still revelled in how blue me eyes were. They would look at me cheekbones and angelic blond curls, tellin' me how pretty they were while sayin' it was pity that me scar made such a mess of me face. Was because of Angelus and him Claiming me that it's mostly fixed and ever so 'appealing' now, but that's another story. Still stuck with Jervis though, nowhere else to go and 'cause of Mam shelterin' me somewhat, I didn't have a trade to fall back on so as to earn me a livin'. Didn't understand for years why he did it. Always thought Jervis resented me beggin' him to take me in.

Still, I hated to have no-one near me at all times after what Mr. Rufus had done to me an' even though I didn't trust Jervis as far as I could throw the fat bugger, if I had ever been given a choice of bein' alone or sittin' next to Jervis... Jervis woulda won hands down every bloody time. Tell the truth, I never really trusted any bloke after bein' slashed by Jervis.

Wasn't until I was a half grown lad of almost 12 and celebrating a profitable outin' with Jervis that I learnt what Mr. Rufus had really wanted with me. Don't know why Jervis chose that night to tell me the truth about Mam's part in it all, think maybe the drink had loosened him up a little. Maybe, from the way he was lookin' at me, his guilt at cuttin' me overcame him. In a soft voice, full of regret, he told me that he hadn't gone on a little thievin' exercise that night and instead, he had gone to visit me Mam in prison. He had gone to ask her how much she wanted for me so that she would forget she had ever had a son and wouldn't try to organise a sale from prison. Me Mam told him that I was hers to do what she wanted with and if she wanted to apprentice me out as a stable boy to a country Lord who happened to have a certain fondness for young boys, then it was her right to do so. Told him that it was me beautiful face that would pay her fines and allow her to set herself up as a respectable business woman once out of prison. After visiting me Mam, Jervis had sat in one of the local inns, drinkin' away while he wondered what to do with me. Said, all he could think of was Mam tellin' him how me face was goin' to pay her way to a newe. Fe. Few more hours of solid drinkin' and Jervis had known how to secure me a better future than what Mam and Mr. Rufus had in mind. And that's why Jervis had decided to take a knife to me face, to give me chance at a half decent life. He was right, I did thank him for it, especially when he told me what Mr. Rufus would have done with me that night if no one had come to help me. I was sick to the bottom of me gut, sat at the table with me stomach heavin away. Still makes me sick, after all this time, jus' to think about it. A puckered, knotted scar threadin' its way through me eyebrow and spoilin' me looks was a small price to pay for bein' alive. You see, word was that Mr. Rufus' boys often had fatal 'accidents'. Found out that Mr. Rufus had set me Mam up so that he wouldn't have to pay for me an‘ that‘s how he got the key to me room. Jervis never told me how much I was worth but I guess it must have been pretty steep because when I couldn't stop meself from askin', he jus' looked at me and shook his head.

For days I was heartsick for me Mam all over again. Jus' hearin' about her dragged up memories of all the good times I'd had with her and I missed her somethin' terrible. Went wild, I did. Turned into a right proper street brawler and it wasn't long before I was winnin' all me fights, too. Earned meself a reputation as scrappy little bugger, an' a bit of a nutter as well, at times. As for the thievin', turned out to be one of the best. How I met Angelus, once more, another story. No longer had to worry about keepin' meself nice for when Mam came to get me again. Realising that you had almost been sold into sexual slavery made you kinda mad at the world and to find out that your own mother had bloody planned it, well, that probably explains the parenting issues that I have with that wanker Angelus.

Even after I learnt she was nothin' more than an evil, cold hearted bitch, only interested in keepin' me nice and soft all those years so she could earn herself a new life through sellin' me virgin arse for a profit... I couldn't bring meself to hate her.

Couldn't, she was me Mam an' I loved her.

So yeah, I know *all* about bein' a whore.

I *am* a whore.

Look Mam, look at what your little blue eyed Will has become.

He's in the family business now, jus' like you wanted. If not for money, then for blood and a sheltering roof over his muddled up head.



As he stroked at the hard bulge between the sleeping boy's legs, Spike shivered, feeling an icy finger trailing its way down his back.

Unable to help himself, Spike started sobbing as he realised his life had completed its full circle. He had fulfilled Fate's plans, Spike filling the vacancy that had been reserved for him even if he had managed to escape it momentarily by slipping out the door all those years ago.