This is what happens when Benaresq starts talking about belly dancing Xander. Many thanks to her as co-writer on this one; she does a lovely Xander. Dedicated to Ephemera, she of the wings and lovely hair. (NC17)




Past Lives


by
Cicirossi



"Okay, Spike. Tell me again why I'm doing the dishes?"

"I told you, Xan. You're my slave boy."

"Have you been sniffing Lemon Pledge?"

"Isn't that furniture polish?"

Xander nodded. "Mom always said that it would make me crazy."

"Polishing the furniture? Or sniffing it?"

A quick, suspicious look at Spike yielded only a smug grin. The last dish was washed and placed in the drainer before Xander turned around and propped his hands on his hips. "Okay, Spike. What are you babbling about?"

"Oh, just you, me, almond oil... harem pants. But not furniture polish."

"Ooh. Gah. Almond oil! Wait. Harem pants? What the hell?"

"Past life regression, luv. You were made to be my slave." Xander sputtered, trying to hide his growing, er, interest behind bluster. Spike just grinned cheerfully and continued. "You know, dancing for me, feeding me blood dipped figs."

"Ewww!"

"What?"

"Well, first of all, I'd never be your slave. Second? Figs are gross even without the blood."

"Okay, you can feed me grapes or something. Just picture it, luv."

Screwing his eyes up tight, Xander shook his head. "Nope, not considering it. Not at all." That Spike, he came up with the darnedest things. Silly thought, him being a slave. No way.

Of course, Spike was still going on and on about it, his voice contemplative. "I can see it in my head, you know? Some big, fat pillows for me to recline on, those Persian rug type things, you in a pair of sparkly gold pants..."

"And what are you wearing - wait! Not picturing. I don't want to know."

"I'd have to wear something suitably sultan-y, wouldn't I? One of those robes maybe... black with embroidery. With a big, broad belt holding it closed." Unconsciously (Probably. Who knew?) Spike fingered his belt, dreamy-eyed.

"Sultan, huh? I suppose you're surrounded by hundreds of slave girls waiting on your every whim?"

Tilting his head, Spike grinned at him. The kind of grin that made his tummy turn over. "Nah, just you... wear you out, I would."

"Huh. You do that already." Still sounded intriguing, though. If he was thinking about it, which he wasn't. "Um, how would you wear me out? Not that I'm picturing it, or anything."

"Right. You're not thinking about it."

"I'm not thinking about it, hard. Very, very... and hey! Shut up."

"Didn't say anything."

"Shut up with the smiling."

"Oh, right, pet. My teeth make noise sliding across my lips."

"That's an insinuating smile. Don't think I don't know one when I see one." And it was, too. Very snide. It said all sorts of things so that Spike didn't have to say them out loud. Made Xander nuts.

"Is not."

"Is too. It's insinuating LOUDLY."

Shaking his head, Spike put on a pout. "Wasn't being mean. Was just thinking I'd make those sparkly gold pants almost see through. But not quite. Just enough to keep me guessing. Then the dancing. That hip-rolly kind of dancing so I could leer at you."

"I wouldn't do it, Spike."

"Sure you would. You're the slave, remember?"

"Um, so what would happen if I didn't?"

Leaning up from his lazy sprawl on the couch, Spike got very serious. His voice became an almost subvocal growl. "Then I'd have to beat you, luv."

Backpedaling, Xander waved his hands furiously in front of him. "Uh uh. No way. Not. Picturing."

"I'd only hurt you a little. Nothing that would set off the chip."

"Okay, I might be seeing this a little."

Spike looked like he was really getting into it. "A belt maybe... just enough to turn that pretty ass hot and red."

Drifting back toward Spike instead of away, now, like he just couldn't help himself. "What happens then?"

"Don't know. Can't visualize it without your pink butt."

Swallowing, Xander moved even closer. "Well, you could, you know, just for the sake of visualization." Something bright and greedy flared in Spike's eyes at the offer, and he worked his belt buckle until he could pull it out of the loops. He gestured at Xander's clothes, and Xander stripped down to his boxers, figuring that would simulate the gauzy pants Spike taunted his imagination with.

"Right. Bend over, love, and grab your ankles."

Can't believe I'm doing this, Xander thought. But he did just that, and Spike laid the first blow of the belt across his ass, and he almost screamed. More from startlement than anything else; Spike was holding back his blows so they were more sound than fury, but his ass warmed under the bite of the leather, and his cock grew so hard he though it might just explode. By the time Spike was done, Xander had lost count, and was riding the wave of pain right into bliss.

Spike stopped. When he spoke, his voice was thick and hoarse. "Then you decide you might ought to do what you're told."

Breathing hard, blood rushing in his ears, Xander straightened, and turned back to Spike. "Okay. Which would be what?"

"Dancing. Kind of awkward and stiff, because your ass is sore. But you'd try really hard for me, wouldn't you?"

I can do awkward, Xander thought. I'm good at that. Without realizing it he swayed, grooving on the sound of Spike's voice, not even trying to deny how totally into the fantasy he was. But then Spike was into it too, because he reached out and slid one hand around Xander's hip, helping him find just the right rhythm.

"Oooh, just like that. Does it burn?"

"Yeah, Spike, it burns."

"Good. 'Cause that makes me hot, too. Means I marked you up right."

"So do you take off your clothes when you're hot? I mean, the sultan clothes?"

Licking his lips, Spike fiddled with the waistband of his jeans. "Seems like the thing to do, doesn't it? Open up the clothes to get some air. Think I'd make you undress me, though. So you could find out I don't wear anything under the robe."

Still moving to the beat in his head, Xander closed in on Spike and reached for his t-shirt, pulling it off over his head. Then he pulled open the button fly on Spike's jeans and eased them down. "I see that you really don't wear anything under it... have you EVER worn underwear? In any incarnation?"

"It gets up my butt, luv. Do you want to talk about my short clothes, or about what you do next?"

Nude and completely unconcerned about it, Spike flopped back onto the couch and planted his feet wide-apart. Staring didn't begin to cover what Xander was doing. But damn. "Tell me what I do next."

"Come closer, maybe stop dancing, sit at my feet. You'd offer me a cool drink, maybe feed me some of those finger food, but no figs."

"Because figs are gross."

"Right."

"Wait. Are you a vampire sultan? I mean, when you say finger foods..."

"Why would I want to be a human one? Of course I'll be a vampire one. Not going to eat your fingers. But I'd have to lick them a bit, maybe suck them, because everything tastes better next to your skin." Gesturing for him to come forward, Spike took one of Xander's hands and brought it to his mouth, licking the very tips of his fingers before sucking them in.

"So then you wanted me to offer you a drink?"

"To help cool me off a bit."

"Oh, so nothing warm then." Just the thought made him breathless, as the scrape and glide of Spike's tongue on his thumb made him think of those lips wrapped around something else. Spike just bared his teeth in a predatory grin.

"Not yet... not so fast, luv."

"Well, you are the one in charge, o mighty Sultan Spikebad."

"And don't you forget it."

"Yeah, yeah. What would your fantabulousity have me do next?"

"Think the drink would taste better off your skin too. But I'm torn here. Do I drink it from your belly?" And here Spike guided Xander's hand to his own stomach, just above the boxer shorts he still wore. "Or maybe the small of your back?" Moving his free hand around, Spike traced the line of Xander's spine right down to the tender dimple at the top of his buttocks. "Or should I sip it from your lips?"

A tiny whimper escaped him, and Xander shook his head, unable to make a decision.

"You're not helping here. But I think I'd put you on lap, so I could feel those silky pants rub against my bare skin. Make you sip the drink, then feed it to me. Such pretty lips you've got." Spike had pretty lips too, and Xander looked at them until he couldn't take it anymore. Then he leaned forward and kissed them. Hard. After a few happy moments of open-mouthed kissing, Spike pulled away, sucking on Xander's lower lip as he retreated.

Wow. Hard to breathe after that, and Xander realized he was indeed straddling Spike's lap, arms draped around Spike's neck. "Being your slave does have its perks."

"Told you." The tone was perfectly conceited. And pretty well deserved.

"You could even say I'm motivated. I like this job. How may I serve the Sultan of Smug farther?"

"I'll let you decide." At Xander's incredulous look, Spike chuckled and dumped him off on the floor. "You want to please me don't you?"

Wincing at the soreness in his shins, not to mention his ass, Xander pretended to consider that. "I guess. Slaves don't have a choice. Just to feed your enormous ego, I'd probably kneel down in front of you and admire your naked body. Kind of like this. And then I'd start with your feet. Rub perfume into them."

"Feet? Oi! No smelly stuff."

"Feet. Except we don't have perfume, so you'll have to smell like hand lotion."

Dubious, Spike frowned. "I'm a sultan. I should have something spicy."

"Well, I could sprinkle come cinnamon on you, but it might make for unpleasant burning in some places."

"Right. Have to think of tender spots, we do."

With a squirt of lotion rubbed into his palms, Xander started petting Spike's feet. The sound Spike made then was pure happiness. "I'd do your feet for a little bit, and then ask you to stretch out on your stomach so I could rub every inch of your skin."

A long look from Spike, then he turned over on his belly along the couch seat. "You are enthusiastic about this aren't you slave boy?"

"I take pride in my work."

"Suits me down the ground. I like the feel of your hands on me."

Privately, Xander admitted that he liked his hands on Spike too. The skin was stretched smooth and soft over layers of muscle and bone, and it felt good to knead and press the tension out.

"You're all wound up. Oh, the stress of a hard day being a sultan. Your shoulders are tense from the burden of your big head. With the turban on it, I mean."

A snort came from somewhere deep in the couch pillow. "Oh you're too funny. S'hard work keeping you lot in line."

"I'll bet."

"Wanna see how hard?"

"Yes. Turn over on your back." And Spike did, into an indolent, big cat sprawl. "So then I'd rub all over your front too, make all the hard stuff soft. Except for one place. That one place I would want to be hard. Because I'd want to..."

"What? Want to what?"

"Stop, of course." Xander stuck out his tongue and grinned at Spike's chagrined face. Then Spike looked down at the rest of Xander's body and shook his head. With a shrug, Spike wrapped a hand around his cock to stroke it. From his vantage point kneeling on the floor, Xander had an excellent view of the proceedings.

"Don't think so. Not for long. You'd want to keep going."

Mesmerized, Xander watched those slender fingers move up and down. Up and down. "I would. Keep going, I mean. If you kept doing what you're doing, with the stroking, and the dripping, and the... unh. If you kept doing that I would have to." Sticking his tongue out again, Xander put it to good use, leaning forward and licking at the head of Spike's cock where it stuck up over his fist.

There was a hitch in Spike's voice when he spoke again. "You know what would happen then?"

"Mmmph?"

"I'd tell you to take off those spangly pants." Putting on his best Sultan voice, Spike snapped, "Take them off, slave!"

It actually made him jump, and he raised his head to look Spike in the eye. "As you command, master." He stood, and shucked off his underwear, leaving him naked to Spike's consuming look. Making him feel oddly vulnerable. His cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement when Spike patted his thighs in an obvious command for Xander to straddle them. But straddle them he did, and Xander moaned when Spike reached out with one finger to trace his aching cock.

"This for me, slave boy?"

Arching into the touch, Xander gasped and nodded. "All of me is for you, master."

"Good boy. Now get the lotion."

That was just what he did, leaning down and picking the bottle up off the floor. He handed to Spike, who copied Xander's earlier motions and liberally coated both hands with the slick stuff. Then he reached around and massaged Xander's sore ass.

"Mmmmm, God you're good to me."

"Yeah? Hold that thought, luv." And Spike slipped a finger inside Xander's body. No resistance, no difficulty. Just slid right in, and Xander wriggled happily. For long minutes Xander was lost in the glide and burn of Spike's fingers preparing him, and the cooling feel of Spike's skin on his abraded ass. Until suddenly Spike withdrew, and he felt empty.

Placing a hand on either side of Xander's hips, Spike said, "Ride me, slave."

Trying to ignore the way his cock jumped, Xander rolled his eyes and sighed. "If you insist, master." For his trouble he got a stinging slap on the ass that made him start. Not waiting for further retribution, he positioned Spike against him, then sat back and took him inside in a series of not so smooth jerks. They both moaned. Loudly.

"Oh god, luv... so tight."

Stretched wide, by Spike, and Xander could barely think. "I love your cock, Spike. Love it in me." And he did. Moving slowly at first, relishing the feel of Spike's hard flesh filling him until he thought he would split apart. Then faster, bunching up the muscles in his thighs and bouncing, listening to Spike's little grunts of pleasure. Felt Spike's hands tighten on his hips to guide the motion, and all he could do was hold on as they went barreling into the pleasure, hard and fast.

The catch and slide of Spike's cock was unbelievable, and Xander pressed down hard to take in every fraction of an inch. Deeper than he even knew his body could be, and Spike was pumping up and up and reaching for Xander's painful dick, and it made his eyes roll back in his head, and he just surrendered to it completely.

"Mine," Spike panted, and Xander pried his eyes open to see that Spike hadn't closed his, was watching him with an intensity that should scare him, but it didn't. And when Spike snarled and pulsed hard into his body Xander lost it to, leaving milky splashes of himself on Spike's pretty skin. Unable to hold himself up anymore, Xander collapsed, and Spike caught him, and they shared an exhausted, wet kiss. Xander snuggled as close to Spike as he could, trying and failing to crawl inside his skin, and Spike petted his hair like he knew exactly how he felt.

"You do a good slave, pet."

"Mmmmm." Xander laughed weakly. "You think?"

"Yeah."

"Well, just remember you can have more than one past life."

"Do tell."

"Okay. I just had this flashback to a life where I was a High Priest and you were the temple whore...."

"Next time, luv. Next time."







The End




Feed the Author

Visit the Author's Website

Home Categories New Stories Non Spander