Shadow Garden


by
Lady Cat and Wolfshark



Part Four

Xander woke gradually. Some time during the night, he had shifted, and Spike was lying practically on top of him, sucking up body heat.

It was Saturday, and he didn't have anywhere to go or anything to do. A nice, long, lazy day at home sounded good. Of course, that wasn't counting on anything that Spike might decide that he wanted to do, but hopefully he'd let Xander get some extra rest.

Stretching as best as he could, trying not to disturb Spike, Xander couldn't help the yawn that spilled out. Nuzzling into Spike's neck, he tried to go back to sleep but he was awake now, and, more importantly, so was his bladder.

It took some doing, but he managed to slip out from under Spike without waking him. Going into the bathroom, he did the various necessary things, washed his hands, and then returned to the bedroom. Spike had turned to face him, looking vaguely unhappy in his sleep, one arm thrown out over the side of the bed.

Xander still wasn't sure what was happening between the two of them. All he knew was that he was becoming more and more comfortable with being under Spike. He just hoped that one day he wouldn't slip and call Spike "Daddy" where it wasn't appropriate.

Pushing away the deep thoughts, muttering to himself that it was too early for such things, he went over to the bed and sat down on the edge. Maybe he'd try something a little different today. Scooting down the bed, he studied Spike quiescent cock curiously. Wondering how much trouble he'd get in for starting things without permission, he ultimately shrugged and figured it would probably be worth it.

With that idea in mind, he ducked his head and took Spike's cock in deep.

Vague dreams haunted Spike, feathers brushing against his mind in grays and browns. He reached for them, trying to catch, and unexpectedly desperate when they slipped between his fingers. It was cold, all of a sudden, and emptiness echoed around him, wrong and distorted, and it was --

Warm. Hot, even, wet and with a sweet suction that dragged Spike away from his mindless questing into a room that smelled of sex and himself, a hint of mint and soap, and lust. Lots and lots of lust, pouring out through the room the way smoke would blanket and fuzz the edges -- and not a drop of it was his own.

Yawning sleepily, Spike stretched his arms above his head and glanced back down, smiling slightly. "Morning, little one," he said, his voice rough with sleep. Anxious eyes met his, flitting back and forth as they sought permission. His hand reached down without conscious thought, cupping Xander's jaw to rub his thumb over a stubbled cheek. "Greedy little slut," he continued, affectionate despite the dirty words. "Got hungry, did you?"

"Mm hmm," Xander hummed, loving the way it made Spike jump, then pretend it didn't. There wasn't any urgency to what he was doing. This was just a long and lazy suckling. Slowly, Spike's cock filled, lengthening in his mouth and filling it just perfectly.

When Spike ran his hand through his hair, he dropped down further, taking more of his cock into his mouth and throat. Loving it, he hummed his contentment.

Spike widened his legs, arching as he was taken in deeper. "Little whore," he crooned, settling more deeply into the bed while Xander crawled into the space his body vacated. Spike ran the flat of his foot over Xander's thigh and buttocks, even contorting enough to stroke his toes over Xander's back. "Cocksucking fag. Nothing but a queer little pussy-boy, aren't you? Hmm." His hand curled back into Xander's hair, tugging at tangled locks until it almost started to hurt -- Xander, who's eyes were so expressively dark, negative light that told a story a child could follow, not Spike. "My queer little pussy-boy."

As Spike alternately petted and pulled at him, Xander whined, trying to take him even deeper. His throat ached with the need to take as much as he could. Spike's words washed over him, leaving him in a humiliated and turned on fog. He wanted to deny being a fag, but with a cock in his mouth - willingly and by his own choice, no less - he couldn't. All he could do was close his eyes and focus on the taste and the need.

"Open," Spike ordered softly, stroking his thumb over the delicate skin right beneath Xander's left eye. "Don't like it when my boy tries to hide from me."

It took a few moments for Xander to obey, lashes fluttering reluctantly as they rose. His eyes were dark -- pitch and tar, with little lights like stars inside the ink -- twisted up desire for more and the shame his wants gave him.

It made Spike groan, thrusting up into Xander's mouth. "Swallow me, little one," he ordered. "Like we practiced? Do that."

Shifting, Xander tried to get himself at a good angle to swallow down Spike's cock. On his first try, he choked, coughing and having to pull back fast so that he could catch his breath.

Before Spike could say anything, though, he'd tried again, this time managing to swallow and get Spike's cock most of the way down his throat. Once there, he focused on breathing for a few minutes, trying to make sure that he wasn't going to lose it again. Once he was certain, he started moving, just a little, hoping that Spike would continue to be patient.

Smirking, Spike leaned back against the bed; the look in Xander's eyes was just daring him to say something, to stop his blowjob just to ridicule. Spike, however, had no interest in ridiculing Xander for having a perfectly normal gag-reflex -- particularly as the boy immediately tried again, determination marring the lines of his face until the cock in his mouth created new ones.

"Better?" he asked as Xander began to relax a little, moving infinitesimal amounts as he tried different angles. When Xander hummed something in agreement, Spike chuckled, gently tousling his hair. "Good boy."

Slowly, it got easier, till Xander was moving up and down the length of Spike's cock. Every so often he'd still choke, but he kept trying. Finally he finally got settled enough that he was moving almost effortlessly, rapt in the feeling. His eyes closed again, but this time simply because he was so engrossed in what he was doing.

Dropping all the way down, he tried to swallow, moaning as his throat constricted around Spike's cock.

The vibrations mixed with the silken feel of Xander's mouth around him. Spike groaned, both hands locked around Xander's head; instinct wanted him to grab and move, forcing himself even deeper inside that wet mouth. Self-control, however, kept him from doing anything but enjoying the radiating heat of Xander's scalp, hair like cool rain against his fingers.

"Again," he ordered, gruff with need, his body thrumming like a violin-string that'd been plucked. "Again, little one. Daddy wants to come."

The want in Spike's voice made Xander proud - he'd done that! Him! - and it made him want more. So, cautiously, he did it again, only to be rewarded by Spike's moan and his hands tightening in his hair. "Again..."

This time, when he swallowed, he didn't pause to be told, just repeating it over and over again as fast as he dared. Wanna make my daddy come... wanna make him proud of me...

Xander was making little nng, snuffling noises as he bobbed himself faster and faster, swallowing over Spike's cock to some rhythm powerful enough that it caught his breathing and heartbeat along with that wicked tongue and hot, grasping throat working him over and --

Spike cried out, arching as he came. He pulsed three times, body clenching up like it was seizing as one of those pulses went directly down Xander's throat. "Hell," he groaned when he collapsed back onto the bed, breathing heavily.

Xander lifted his head, licking his lips as he smiled at Spike. "Good morning, daddy."

"Berk," Spike muttered, gesturing for Xander to crawl up beside him. Once he had, Spike immediately found the boy's cock to play with, absently fondling and tugging it as he buried his face in Xander's hair. "Why'd you wake me up so sodding early?"

He had no intention of letting Xander come. Yet, anyway. But reinforcing just how much belonged to him, though, wasn't a bad thing -- and making Xander gasp and go white around the eyes was a hell of a lot of fun.

"Uh... cause I wanted to suck on you, daddy," Xander said, fighting back a moan as Spike's hand skillfully played with his dick.

"Greedy," Spike said, trying for disparaging and landing somewhere between affectionate and indulgent. "Go get me my breakfast; can't live on come the way you can, little one."

Biting his lip, Xander bit back his first response, which was a great big no. He wanted to come so badly, but he knew that the surest way to guarantee that he wouldn't would be to say something like that.

So instead, he slipped out of the bed and padded to the kitchen. Pouring a mug full of Spike's blood, he absently leaned against the counter and rubbed at his aching dick as he waited for the timer to ring.

Spike waited exactly thirty seconds before yelling, "And don't play with your cock, or I'll put it back in the cage!" It always pissed Xander off when Spike 'caught' him at things anyone not completely unfamiliar with vampires or anyone who'd dominated submissive, eager little boys before knew to expect.

How the hell does he know? Xander thought as he jerked his hand away. It wasn't fair.

The microwave dinged, and he carefully picked up the mug, carrying it back into the bedroom and handing it to Spike before sliding back into the bed. He wanted to ask if Spike was using his vampiric hearing or something, but that would give away what he'd been doing, so instead he just sat there feeling very disgruntled.

Chuckling around a mouthful of blood -- a year and more on pig and he still appreciated every single milligram of the good stuff -- Spike snaked an arm around his boy, pulling him down close and this time rubbing between the boy's arse and toying with his bollocks. "Aw," he mocked, licking a stray bit of blood from his lower lip. "Don't pout so, little one."

Xander's hips rocked up, trying to get more of that fleeting touch. He wasn't about to claim he wasn't pouting, even if he wasn't. Instead, he leaned in, hoping to get a kiss.

Spike chuckled and obliged him. He tasted of copper and sleep, and Xander moaned into it.

That Xander was so excellently good at kissing probably shouldn't have surprised Spike -- he'd heard of the boy's disastrous relationships and knew enough about the girls in question that an adequate kisser wasn't going to cut it. In Cordelia's case, she'd probably just bite it off as she swished away on Blanhik heels. But as much as Spike enjoyed the kissing, that still wasn't something he approved of. Not really. Because kissing was intimate and sharing instead of the giving or taking that Spike preferred.

Spike ended the kiss by biting Xander's tongue hard enough that they both gasped, although Xander's had a touch more excitement in it. Good. "Mm. A whole day with my little slut waiting to attend me," Spike said, leaning back in bed and returning his attentions to Xander's smoothly waxed bollocks. "What should I have you do, hm?"

Moving restlessly, Xander shook his head and then shrugged. It wasn't his call, and he knew it. He just wished that Spike was more willing to kiss - he really missed it.

"Whatever you want, daddy."

Spike's hand tightened almost to the point of pain, and he said, "Of course it's what I want, little one."

Gasping, Xander squirmed, trying to figure out what to say. "S-sorry, daddy."

Sighing, Spike released Xander's balls to roll the boy firmly onto his belly. It made breathing difficult -- Xander wasn't light -- but touch always reassured Xander, and Spike didn't need that much air to speak, anyway. "Alright, you stupid slut. It's time you understood something. When I ask you want you want, little one, that means I want to know what's going on underneath your thick skull. We aren't going to do a sodding thing I don't want to do. That doesn't excuse you from answering my questions. Understand, or I need to take you over my knee?"

Xander squirmed a little as Spike's hipbones cut into his stomach, and then more as he remembered the last spanking he got. He wasn't sure how Spike was able to give one with the chip, but it still hurt like a fucker.

"I under-understand, daddy. I just... I'm not sure what I want to do, though." Spike sighed and started to shift, and Xander whimpered, trying to come up with something fast so that Spike wouldn't have to carry through on his threat to spank him. "Uh, I'd like to be fucked, daddy."

"That's because you're a greedy little bitch of a bottom-boy that can't think without a cock in her pussy," Spike snapped, meeting Xander's eyes and waiting for the boy to squirmingly look back. Dark brown eyes flinched their way up to his, golden brown receding as fear and nervousness made his pupils expand. "Right, then. Some options. If you want, little one, Daddy'll bone you until you can taste me in the back of your throat. Or we could try something new -- lots of things we haven't tried yet, pet. Could see just how very flexible my boy is... maybe take you out ... Want me to show you off, little whore? Let everyone see what wares I just might be offering?"

His mouth watering at the thought of being fucked so very thoroughly, Xander almost jumped at the chance of a hard fuck. Almost.

But the idea of being pushed even harder had its own appeal, and he actually paused to contemplate if he wanted something different. It was apparent that Spike did - or he wouldn't have brought it up. Xander wasn't sure he was ready to go out, though, and Sunnydale was small enough that word would get back to Willow. She might have accepted him sleeping with Spike, but there was no way that she'd get over him being treated like property in public.

"Flexible, d-daddy? What do you mean?"

Finally, they were making progress. Spike rewarded Xander with a short kiss -- the boy would do a hell of a lot for a snog, and even more for a proper one -- sucking on his lower lip until Xander made that soft, breathy moaning noise that told Spike his mind had turned half-off.

"Positions, pet," Spike said, his voice more gentle now that Xander was on the same page. "Haven't tried the really challenging ones yet, and there are tons of things I'd love to slip up my boy's greedy pussy. Watch you fuck your own body for Daddy's pleasure. Would you like that, little one? Spread out and full, while I watched?

Licking his lips to find the taste of Spike still there, Xander tried to make his brain work. Between the mind-blowing kiss and the mental image of what Spike was suggesting, though, he didn't think he was going to be able to find two brain cells to rub together, though.

"I'd like to t-try that, daddy. Dunno how flexible I am, though - not like I can do splits or something."

Spike didn't bother mentioning that it wasn't flexibility he was after but willingness; Xander wouldn't understand the difference, innocent that he still really was. Chuckling at Xander's wide-eyed hesitation, Spike let his fingers slip into the curve of Xander's arse, the first entering easily -- Xander kept himself lubed almost constantly, despite complaining of how weird it felt and how much he didn't like it. One look for Spike had him scrambling to slick himself, arse up and ready for whatever his Daddy wanted of it.

"Pretty boy," Spike crooned, kissing Xander again while he added a second finger. He wasn't working them in deeply, just idly toying with Xander's entrance and the muscles that knew better than to tense around him.

Xander moaned as Spike played, fingers spreading him open and stretching his entrance. "Your pretty boy, daddy. Feels so good..."

Spike chuckled softly as he pulled his hand back, leaving Xander arching after that gentle touch. "Go get the toy bag, pet."

"Yes, daddy." Xander slid off the bed and scurried over to the closet, picking up the gym bag that contained all of Spike's toys. He wasn't completely certain what was kept in there, as he knew that Spike hadn't used them all on him yet and he wasn't allowed to look in it.

But when Spike opened it up and pulled out the green jelly dildo, he moaned, his mouth already opening. That usually meant that Spike was going to push him hard, but didn't want him making too much noise. Xander didn't care, except for the fact that it meant he got to suck.

"That's right," Spike agreed. "My pretty cocksucker." Xander was almost panting in eagerness to get his mouth around the toy, his cock hard and twitching as Spike fed him inch by slow inch, lurid green disappearing into soft, smooth pink. Very pretty indeed.

Gripping the base of the toy once it nudged the back of Xander's throat, he tugged on it, smirking when Xander sucked more firmly, glaring at Spike for trying to take away his treat. He looked thoroughly debauched like that, a perverted child mindlessly happy with the wet, rhythmic pull of wet against the toy. "Good slut. On your back, little one, and hold your legs up under the knee."

As Xander scrambled around to obey, Spike picked out a few toys. The first was, of course, a cage -- "Want my boy to behave," Spike explained as he snapped it into place, Xander's glower totally out of the place above the base of the toy bobbing in and out of his mouth in time with his sucking. "He's going to be a good boy for me, isn't he? A sweet bitch for Daddy to play with."

He had the first toy lubed as he spoke, pressing it in as hard and as fast as he could; which turned out to be faster than Spike expected. Huh. Apparently his boy was finally starting to stretch. Good. He worked the first dildo -- a long, black nightstick of a toy, not quite as thick as Spike himself but a bit longer -- in and out, watching Xander's reaction closely. He did love to watch his boy go happily mindless as his body was used.

Xander hated the cage, but with the toy in his mouth he couldn't object - not that he actually would have, anyway. Spike's smile added insult to injury, since he knew just how uncomfortable the damn thing was.

But as he focused on holding up his legs - not easy to do for more than a few moments - he let himself get lost in the sensation of sucking. Then there was the rush of being penetrated, and he would have cried out if he could. It didn't hurt, but it was unexpected. The toy was harder, less giving than Spike, and that made it feel even bigger.

He adjusted quickly, and was soon rocking in time to the push and pull of the toy, sucking mindlessly to the same rhythm. Inside the cage, his cock throbbed, and he moaned loudly.

Spike rested the edge of his right hand directly underneath Xander's bound sac. He wasn't putting all his weight there -- he didn't want to truly hurt Xander -- but enough that it forced the boy more heavily into the fake cock fucking into him, heightening both the pleasure and the discomfort. "Good bitch," he murmured. "If you want to talk, little one, you're allowed to. Can take your binky out and tell Daddy how good it feels to have your pussy full. Or not," he added, knowing just how cruel he could be before it pushed Xander too far.

Spike continued fucking Xander until the boy was undulating easily around the toy in his arse, body lax and open. Pulling out the toy with a pop, Spike held it up, eyeing it ostentatiously and glancing at Xander's mouth -- a clear signal that he might actually make Xander suck on the dirty toy. Particularly since it wasn't that dirty; Spike had instituted that particular daily regimen very early on. But Xander's eyes still widened, a hint of fear making his breath hitch, and Spike leered at him before putting the toy down and thrusting three fingers inside Xander's arse again. "So wet, you whore," he purred. "Loose, like a slattern from the docks, used by anyone with a tenner. Want me to do that, little one? Taking care of you is expensive, pet, and we'll need more dosh eventually. Want me to shove you down, let some stranger take your ass while you concentrate on Daddy's cock in your mouth?"

Fear making his belly cramp, Xander whimpered. It wouldn't do for Spike to know how much the idea of being used like that was a turn on in addition to being afraid.

But Spike was staring at him, obviously waiting for a response as Xander rode his fingers. Awkwardly, he managed to take the binky out of his mouth without dropping his leg. "Scary," he whined.

"Doesn't mean you don't want it," Spike accused, smirking as Xander flushed even harder. "Scary just makes my little bitch even harder, doesn't it? Would you do that, if I told you? Would you spread your legs for every bloke I told you to, hand over the money to me like a good hooker?" Three fingers became four, Spike surreptitiously adding more lube while Xander tried to ride him faster. A sharp slap put a stop to that, Xander's cock rubbing painfully within its cage.

Would he do it? Xander had to admit that the idea had a certain appeal, especially as he knew that Spike wouldn't let anyone hurt him. After all, if he did, then he wouldn't be able to be there for Spike. Hesitantly, he slowly nodded.

Spike smirked, and abruptly the sensation of being full increased. It stung a bit, but didn't really hurt. Xander groaned and tried to move to accommodate it, only to be slapped into stillness. Biting his lip, he moaned when Spike grabbed the bright green toy and brought it back to his mouth. "Suck, pet."

Obediently, Xander opened his mouth and took the toy in deep, relaxing as he nursed it.

Xander's eyes spun around in their sockets as Spike began to spread his fingers, keeping the number at four but increasing the width in preparation. "Slut," he accused, tucking his thumb against his palm to carefully start easing it forward. "Keep your legs up, little one, sucking on your binky like a good boy. Going to be a very good boy for Daddy, aren't you? Spreading yourself while Daddy fists you."

Spike made certain he wasn't looking at Xander, while eagerly awaiting his reaction. Xander was still, truly, a prude. Having Spike's cock up his ass was something he'd learned to love, Spike's toys something he tolerated because Spike made it worth his while. But a fist? Spike's hand digging deep into Xander's body, taking it and owning it in a way that a blowjob -- no matter how eagerly given -- couldn't quite compare to ... Spike greedily wanted to know if Xander would flip out -- and to what point.

Xander choked on the toy, dropping his legs and trying to pull back - difficult with most of Spike's hand inside of him. Spitting the dildo out, he glared at Spike. This had gone too far. If asked, Xander wouldn't have been able to say why this was too far with all the other things that he'd willingly done for Spike, but it was. Too much, too fast.

Mmm. There was the boy Spike had tamed into obedience, glaring thunderclouds of hate, surprise and hurt like lightning bolts that never truly formed. Xander was trying to work himself free of Spike's touch, but a sharp slap and a hand on the boy's stomach forced him to trembling stillness.

"Did I say you could move?" he asked, voice at its silkiest. "Don't think so. Besides. Can't tell me this doesn't feel good." Spike pushed the tiniest bit forward, allowing the tips of his fingers to just brush against the boy's prostate. "Come on, little one. Stay still for Daddy." It was hard to keep the laughter out of his voice, looking at Xander turtle-legged and furious enough to spit, still spitted quite nicely.

Fighting back the moan that tried to make its way out of his throat at the gentle press on his prostate, Xander froze. He made no effort to lift his legs or fight his way free. Instead, he just stared at Spike, trying desperately to hold on to the last remnants of self that he had.

Spike moved, breaking the moment, and Xander realized that he was angry. It seemed like such a small thing - one more step down into the depravity that he lived with Spike every day, but it was a step that he wasn't sure that he could take. No matter how good it actually felt.

"Please, Spike - too much."

Spike made a soft, negative noise. He kept his attention on his own hand, thoughtfully rotating his wrist first one direction, then the other -- the broken moan, jagged like metal forced to the stressing point Xander made causing him to smirk and his cock to twitch with eagerness. "Hush, little one," he told Xander. "Do little boys decide what's too much for them, hm? No. Daddies decide."

He leaned forward, twisting his hand again so that his fingers rubbed over the boy's prostate over and over. "Look at me, little one." Immediately, bruise-black eyes made sharp with anger and overwhelming emotions he probably couldn't even parse met Spike's. "Good boy. You're mine, little one. My bitch. My sweet little slut. Say it."

There was method to his madness, and not just 'things that made Spike hot' the way forcing Xander to acknowledge his own perversions did. If he could talk Xander past the surprised anger, and into the trust Xander offered him instinctively, he'd be able to finish with his boy coming so hard he'd nearly snap Spike's wrist. Spike wanted that.

Xander's lips formed the word no, but he couldn't actually get any air behind it to make any sound. His body was locking up and betraying him, as some muscles relaxed and others tensed to the breaking point.

Spike hummed thoughtfully for a moment, and then there was a sharp sensation as he twisted his hand again, followed by hard pressure on his hot spot. Xander practically screamed, and something inside his head gave way. "Y-yours. Your g-good boy... Pl-please!"

"Shhhh." Spike curled his fingers more tightly, widening Xander and rubbing his knuckles over the boy's prostate in what was more soothing than arousing, he hoped. Xander had to calm down or he'd pass out; ruining Spike's fun far too early. "That's right, little one. Daddy's good boy. Just ride it out, let it take you. Daddy's making you feel so good, isn't he? Not gonna hurt you, little slut. Just make you feel so good, riding on Daddy's fist. Letting him touch so deep inside you ... "

He broke off, panting lightly while his eyes flickered over the boy's sweaty, shuddering body. "Know it feels good," he told Xander, urgency making his voice harsh. "To a bitch like you? Own you now, pet. This makes you mine."

Gulping down air, Xander tried to regain some control, but every time he started to have success, Spike shifted his fingers again. Words - filthy, humiliating, true words - spilled over him like syrup, making him feel like he was losing his mind.

Finally, unable to fight any longer, Xander let go, his body relaxing and his breathing deepening. This was going to happen regardless, and it was obvious that he was enjoying it, even if he didn't want to be. "I - I - I -"

"Taking you," Spike continued, ignoring Xander's stuttered attempts to speak. "That's what this means, you stupid whore. Means you're mine. Means no one's going to touch this sweet cunny of yours -- " Spike clenched and twisted, wringing a sharp cry from Xander -- "without my express permission. My bitch. Say it, little one." Spike slowly began to work his arm in and out -- surreptitiously adding even more lube, despite the fact that the bed was sopping with it already -- fisting into Xander's body. "Tell Daddy you love every thing he does to you."

He whimpered as he was stretched further than he'd ever been before. Without thinking, he dropped a hand to feel where Spike's hand was inside of him, feeling his arm then his own opening.

With a cry, he convulsed around Spike's hand. "G-god, d-daddy... L-love it, l-love you."

Xander's body wasn't resisting anymore, muscles trembling as Spike pushed and pulled however he wanted. He was being careful; the boy probably wouldn't believe it, but this was taking a fair amount of skill and effort both to make certain his three-week-past virgin wasn't screaming in agony instead of breathless and dizzy with pleasure. Spike shifted so he was on his knees, right hand threading with Xander's as the boy examined his own stretched, slick opening. Xander's forearm pushed his caged cock this way and that as he touched himself, face displaying his pained frustration even as his eyes contained nothing but wonder.

Spike flexed, knuckles pressing in just a touch deeper still. "Good bitch," Spike praised him, his voice the slush you found after tires had driven through once pristine snow a few times. "You want to come, little one? Want to prove to Daddy that you're his?"

"Oh, please," Xander begged, desperate now that his attention had been drawn back to how hard he was.

"Who do you belong to?" Spike asked again, hand moving in and out in patterns that made Xander sick with want and need.

"I'm yours. Please, please let me come?" Xander was throbbing inside the cage circling his cock and balls, feeling like he was going to come without even being released. It was a good thing the leather was there, or he would have already come, permission or no.

Spike cupped Xander through the cage, feeling leather and metal press into his palm -- smirking as those same materials bit into Xander. "Soon, pretty," Spike told him, finding a rhythm that had Xander on a fast course to meltdown. Heat poured from him, a nuclear reactor of a furnace, sweat shining in the dim lighting as Xander writhed with each tiny movement inside his body. "Just a bit more. Want to hear you beg, little one. Hear just what you'll do for your treat."

"Anything, d-daddy, I'll do anything!" Xander couldn't close his mouth, words pouring out of him as his body made its own demands. "Please, pl-please daddy - need to c-come so bad, it hurts."

He shifted as much as he could, trying to get more, less, something, anything to push him off this plateau he was lodged on. "D-daddy, need it, daddy, please?"

The thought appeared in Spike's mind. He knew he ought to give it some consideration, maybe hold it in reserve for another time -- but he was naked, with a boy clenching around his wrist, and thinking wasn't something he'd stop to analyze.

Leaning forward as much as he could without hurting Xander, Spike nipped the boy's stomach and then met his eyes. "Anything, pet? Sit at my feet in front of your friends, anything? Speak to me as a little boy ought?"

There was something... Vaguely, Xander heard Spike's words, but they didn't add up in a brain too lust addled to comprehend anything besides the overwhelming need to come. Desperate, he nodded, squirming and fighting the urge to grab at his aching cock. "Anything, daddy..."

"You'll do it, little one," Spike promised him, words spoken directly into Xander's skin like a brand. "You'll sit at my feet dressed in leather and metal, call me Daddy in front of your prudish friends. You'll let me take you out to a club, peddle your sweet pussy -- " Spike flexed, driving in infinitesimally deeper -- "to anyone I say, and always come back like you're on a sodding leash. You'll do it because you want to. Because I tell you to. Because I'm your Daddy and you love me. Say it."

Spike wasn't honestly sure what he was doing, other than turning them both on spectacularly, but in between the harsh, wet gasps for a boy nearly at the edge, Spike heard, ".. love ... "

"You love me."

"Yeah .. "

"Love your Daddy."

"Yeah." Xander sobbed, bucking as Spike undid the cage, tossing it away in a less than graceful move. "Dad .. love daddy ... "

"Good boy." Very carefully, Spike flexed his fingers out, spreading Xander to the point of pain -- the chip was a good yardstick for that -- and murmured, "Come, little whore."

Xander gave a full-throated scream as his body convulsed, painting himself in long strips of glistening wet.

As Xander came down from one of the most intense orgasms of his life, he felt like a washcloth, completely wrung out and sodden. Spike flexed slightly, and Xander whimpered, too completely drained to do anything but feel. "Daddy..."

"I know, little one. Take a deep breath... let it outů" and as Xander did, Spike slid his hand out, making Xander cry out again, this time in pain. Spike winced as well, and Xander wanted to apologize but was too tired to think about making his mouth cooperate.

Instead, he contented himself with looking hopeful and needy, taking the chance that this once Spike would be willing to curl up with him and cuddle.

Spike's hand glistened as he rested it on a quivering thigh -- Xander's, although Spike was certain his was tense to quivering too -- slick with lube and from brushing against the inside bits that weren't actually supposed to see anything but the inside of Spike's hot, shattered boy.

One who was currently fighting through exhaustion to give him puppy-dog eyes.

Spike chuckled. He was hard -- very, achingly hard -- but that could wait for a bit. The way Xander had shuddered and convulsed around Spike's fist, wailing like a dying thing as he came, his belly slick and heaving as he tried to control himself ... yeah. Spike wouldn't need much at all. Stretching out on the bed, he watched as Xander forced his body to cuddle up against Spike's shoulder, sighing contentedly.

Using his right hand -- he'd need to wash, soon -- Spike dragged his finger through the boy's release and brought it to lips red and swollen from being bitten so hard. "Who's are you, little one?" he asked.

Xander slowly licked Spike's finger clean, exhaustion trying to drag him back under. "Y-yours, daddy."

Spike chuckled and scooped up another finger full of come, feeding it to him like a mama bird to its baby. This time, Xander managed to pull himself up slightly, and suck and lick at Spike's finger long after it was clean, taking it as deep as he could, When Spike pulled his finger back this time, Xander cuddled in, sighing in contentment. He was tired and brainless and he was just about ready to get some sleep.

Spike let Xander drift just until he was almost asleep -- and then yanked a lock of his hair hard enough to make his own eyes go blurry. "On my belly," he commanded, his voice soft in deference to Xander's willingness, already slithering down to slide his mouth around Spike's cock without question or complaint. "Good boy," Spike told him, stroking his hair. "Gonna fuck your mouth while you sleep, pet. And tomorrow, little one, I'm going to hold you to that promise you made."

The one that Xander probably didn't remember promising. The one that he'd be terrified of, sleepily sucking on Spike's cock as exhaustion and this new worry swirled underneath soft, dark hair. Yeah. Spike could nap to that.




The End




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