Toys IV: Price Paid done for tamingthemuse. Those prompts do lead to some.... interesting.... story ideas.
Fair warning: bondage, pain play, Dom/sub, slavery, unchipped Spike, not-niceness (and some niceness)
Xander let the world flow by in slow motion, legs and boots and leather and jeans all blurring into a meaningless backdrop. Only the throbbing between his legs and the cool fingers tangling and occasionally tugging his curls mattered.
The cords wrapped around his cock and balls made dull throbbing waves pass through his thighs and up his spine, warming him and making him even harder, which made him groan in pain. When he shifted, a few pubic hairs yanked free, and Xander gasped.
"Silly git, told ya not to wiggle around," Spike commented with a tug at a curl. Xander leaned his shoulder into Spike's leg, wishing he could do something to focus on his master instead of his own frustration. He ached with a need to lose himself to the pleasure of lying helpless under Spike's hands or the need to suck Spike's cock. He could almost feel strong hands holding his head in place as Spike finally lost control and drove up into his mouth. He would even love to lay over Spike's lap panting as Spike either teased or tortured him into oblivion.
However, right now, he wasn't likely to get any of that… at least not for a little while. Spike had found the darkest corner of the bar, but unlike most of their regular haunts, humans wandered the dark. A few times, the door opened and a random tourist, lured by the neon sign offering drinks, wandered in, but they left soon enough.
Rough-looking men with leather vests leaned against the bar. A man in a dark uniform and shiny boots sat at a table with one heel resting on a half-naked man's back. Xander kept glancing toward that couple, fascinated by the way the man on the floor licked at the second shiny boot with eager enthusiasm. Several men had whips or handcuffs dangling from their belts, and one man who had really gotten into things had a long whip coiled and slung over one shoulder like Indiana Jones.
Yep, any strangers who wandered in tonight fled before even getting to the back of the dim bar where Xander knelt. The soft leather chaps wrapped his legs tightly but left his genitals exposed, or at least they would be exposed except that Spike had carefully bound them with leather cords. Unfortunately, Spike hadn't seemed interested in doing anything else except watching the crowd. Well, watching the crowd and complaining about weak American piss-water beer and lame American whisky. Xander was used to those complaints.
Shifting again, he flinched when a few more hairs went, and Xander wondered if he should just give in and ask Spike to shave him. He pressed his cheek to Spike's thigh, silently asking for permission to do more, but Spike just continued petting while he watched the crowd. One restless foot wiggled so that a Doc Martin heel thumped the wooden floor.
Oh yeah, Spike either wanted something or was waiting for something. And really, Xander already knew that because Spike didn't normally hunt men. He loved the flirt, the dance, the quick in and out where he left some girl still orgasming and leaning haphazardly against a random planter as Spike sauntered away with a cat that ate the canary grin, except more with the vampire that snacked on the girl grin.
Xander scanned the crowd trying to figure out what Spike was watching. The door came open, the sound of an angry car horn blaring above the music and the sounds of men's voices. Instead of fleeing, the new guy stepped into the room, his cowboy boots, tight black jeans and black leather jacket fitting right in with the rest of crowd. He looked familiar enough that Xander figured he was probably some B-level actor who did walk on parts—he certainly had an actor's looks.
"Yes, sir!" a high voice blurted. Both the cowboy newcomer and Xander glanced to a corner where a dark-haired man stood with his hands behind his back and a chain between his nipples. The older man standing next to him had a gloved hand on that chain, which he tugged again. Xander could see the younger one say something else, but this time he couldn't hear it.
Yeah, he'd had trouble learning to control his voice when Spike pulled or tugged or whipped some piece of vulnerable skin. Sometimes his voice would crack so that he would squeak like a little girl… other times he'd lose his air and gape mutely.
Watching those two humans play, Xander wondered if he would have ended up somewhere like this eventually. Maybe he would have. Spike's leg stopped vibrating under him, and Xander looked up in alarm. Spike's constant energy had disappeared under a stillness that could mean only one thing: hunting, and not the snack and orgasmy type.
Xander followed Spike's gaze, desperate to find the target. The new guy—cowboy. Okay, he could handle this. He might not be a slayer, but he had any number of tricks when Spike got a little too interested in the local snacklife. Glancing toward the clock, he watched the minute hand click one notch closer to midnight when the doors would lock.
"Master," Xander said softly. Pulling himself upright, he ducked his head and let his curls fall in front of his face before he glanced up through the curtain of hair.
"Yeah?" Spike put his whiskey down and forgot to even pet Xander. So not good.
"Master, may I go to the bathroom?" Xander whispered. Spike looked down at him and cocked his head. Xander could only chew at his lower lip while he waited for an answer.
"Oi, that look means ya want something, so spit it out," Spike said as he raised one boot and rested it on top of Xander's thigh, trapping him in place. Okay, he could do this. Just distract Spike. His master had such a short attention span that he'd forget his prey.
"My cock, it really hurts," Xander breathed, flinching because what he was implying… yeah, that was not going to make Spike happy.
Rather than the explosion he expected, Xander got silence. Spike just looked down with a skeptical expression. Xander fidgeted under the gaze, and pulled out a few more pubic hairs.
"Ow," Xander said as he looked down at the floor.
"Right, so let me get this straight. You're goin' to go to the bathroom and loosen the knots I put on ya?"
Xander considered how he wanted to answer that. He glanced toward the bar where the cowboy leaned with his back against the bar as he scanned the crowd. "Um, yes?" Xander tried. And again with the lack of explosion. Xander looked up at Spike.
"Not buyin', pet. Ya never could lie." Spike grabbed Xander's neck and pulled him close again. Xander lost so many pubic hairs that his eyes watered a bit as he resettled, his head resting on Spike's leg again. At least the nervous bounce was back, so maybe cowboy was safe after all.
Xander sank back to a place where his body's ache and the feel of Spike's hand petting him made the rest of the world fade. Suddenly, the club grew quiet. The men's voices died away to only shuffling feet so that Xander could finally hear the music instead of just feeling the base sending vibrations up through his knees.
An older man with a gray handlebar mustache and a biker's cap came out from behind the bar and headed for the door.
"Last chance, folks. Leave now or risk learning a few things your mother wouldn't want you to know."
The barman glanced at a couple of men hovering in the corners, but no one moved. He shrugged, locked the door and pulled down the shade over the small window inset into the heavy door. Instantly, the mood turned.
"You looking for a second boy?" a man with a huge silver belt buckle asked Spike. Spike didn't even bother answering, he just waved a dismissive hand, and the man took that refusal with a shrug as he asked the next top. Other players detoured around them, and Xander looked up in confusion when Spike's body went still a second time.
"Stay," Spike ordered briefly before he stood. Xander started to ask why, but Spike left in a swirl of black leather, his punk hair and duster only slightly out of place. Xander settled back, resting his palms on the warm leather chaps as he waited for Spike to come back.
Soon enough, Spike came back with cowboy in tow. Xander looked up in panic, but Spike just smiled sweetly before reaching down and grabbing the heavy chain that hung from the back of Xander's collar and then trailed down his back. He wrapped it around his fist and pulled Xander to his feet.
"So, you up for a game, mate?" Spike asked. Xander obediently turned when Spike made a twirling motion with his finger. He gave the cowboy a nice look at his bare ass and bound cock exposed by the chaps and the hard nipples that the tiny leather vest didn't cover. The movement made even more hairs rip out, and the sharp pains along with the admiring looks from both Spike and cowboy made Xander shiver with lust.
"Oh, you bet I am," Cowboy smiled widely.
Spike pulled sharply on the leash, yanking Xander to his side before grabbing the back of Xander's neck. "And can you play by my rules, just like my boy here?" Spike asked Cowboy, but his gaze locked on Xander.
Xander narrowed his eyes, struggling to understand the message his master meant for him, but then Spike kissed him brutally, teeth clashing with teeth as strong fingers pulled Xander's nipple. That kinda short-circuited any thoughts. Still struggling to catch his breath and calm down enough to keep his cock from falling off, Xander followed as Spike led him by his leash to a back room.
Xander didn't even realize Cowboy had joined them until Spike pushed the bolt closed on the small storage room that had been converted to a private dungeon, metal shelves on one side of the tiny concrete room and bars lining one wall for convenient tying up and torturing of victims… hopefully metaphorically because Xander truly did not want to be around for any literal tying up and torturing, especially if he wasn't the tyee and torturee.
"Can I try him out? I'm a master of a good spanking, and I love to feel a hot ass under my hand. God. He's really built." Cowboy's babbling stopped when Spike glanced over with a raised eyebrow, and Xander really feared Cowboy was on the menu tonight.
Slowly, with a roll of his hips, Xander sank to his knees and pressed his forehead against Spike's crotch. The jeans scratched him as he slowly rubbed his face, silently begging Spike to use him instead.
"He's bloody perfect," Spike agreed, and Xander felt a hand rest on his head. Grunting his desperation, Xander pressed his cheek to Spike's bulge as he looked up with panic-wide eyes. Spike looked down at him without any emotion.
"So, here's how it works, mate. I put you through a few paces, and then I let you put my boy through his."
"I'm not really into bottoming," Cowboy said, and now the first threads of doubt appeared. Xander closed his eyes and sent up a quick prayer that this guy wasn't as stupid as he seemed.
"Just like ta get a feel for who's taking my boy out for a drive. Ya can always use your safe word, but remember that I hold my boy's safeword, so as soon as you show me what you're made of, you can play with the boy until I say enough." Spike continued to pet Xander even as he promised to give Xander away to another man. And really, Xander was getting a headache from trying to figure it out.
"He doesn't have a safe word?" Cowboy asked, his voice breathy from either fear or excitement. Xander hoped it was fear and that Cowboy was about to run for the hills.
"He's a slave, not a bottom." Spike patiently explained.
"Oh man. Oh, yeah, I'm totally into that. So, how do you want to start?" Cowboy asked.
"Strip." Spike gave the order in such a friendly tone that Xander felt a near-hysterical need to laugh.
"Master?" he pled as he knelt at Spike's feet. A pair of jeans hit his back and slid to the floor.
"Quiet, or I'll gag you, boy," Spike ordered with a thump on the nose. Xander ducked his head so he wouldn't have to watch the next part. Pain and failure swelled until the ache in his chest outpaced the ache in his groin. Stealing quick glances, he watched as Spike tied the man to the metal bars, spread eagled and facing the wall. His ass had a pale triangle of pasty skin surrounded by SoCal tan and his arms stretched nearly the length of the bars.
"So let's start with a warm up," Spike suggested as he took a flogger from off a shelf. The slapping of leather against flesh echoed off the room. Xander could only press himself into the corner as he tried to stay out of the way in the small room. Cowboy started with heavy grunts on each hit, his hands fisting and his body jerking, but then he sagged into the blows.
Xander knew what that moment felt like… the point at which he could let go and just feel the warmth travel his body. He wished he were up there; he wished he could trust Spike with this stranger's life as much as he trusted Spike with his own. The flogging went on and on until Cowboy gave pained sighs with each hit.
"So, you ready for round two?" Spike asked as he put the flogger back on the shelf and pulled out a cigarette.
"Fuck, yeah. I'm going to make that boy of yours cry," Cowboy said. "Hey, you can't smoke in here!"
"Seems like you're not in a position to tell me what to do," Spike commented as he stepped closer and blew smoke right at the man's face. Cowboy turned his head and coughed.
"Man, whatever your kink is, I am not into second hand smoke and lung cancer."
"See, that's what's wrong with a bottom. They think they have a say, and really, they don't. Not the way I play," Spike offered as he blew smoke again.
"Sign off. Sign off, okay? I'm calling it off." Cowboy coughed as the white cloud floated past him.
"Not feelin' like letting you down, so I'll say when you've had enough," Spike commented casually as he pulled a gag out of a pocket. Cowboy opened his mouth to complain, and Spike shoved it in and buckled it behind his head. Now Cowboy exploded, straining against the ropes and screaming until his face mottled red and purple.
"You recognize him, pet?" Spike asked as he backed off a few steps and leaned against the door. Xander looked over at Cowboy in surprise.
"No, Master." Xander swallowed; his mouth had gone totally dry.
"Look closer, pet."
Xander stood up and reluctantly inched closer. Cowboy looked over his shoulder, silently begging for help with every blink.
"Chad?" Xander asked as the memories returned. Cowboy Chad froze.
"Spike?" Xander turned to his master, not even sure he could describe what he was feeling if someone offered him a million dollars and a brain that actually worked.
"See, I heard the slayer and Red talkin' about some of the shite this one pulled. Then I smelled him on ya after that fight at the pizza place. If I thought the slayer had the balls to pull off what she said she wanted to do to him, I'd turn him over and watch the fun and games.
"Problem is that you white hats are more about talk than torture, and this one needs to learn a lesson." Spike slipped into game face and smiled at Chad. The man promptly peed, the yellow flowing down his legs and puddling on the floor. Spike's smile turned to a disgusted grimace as he dropped his cigarette and crushed it under his heel.
"Master, please don't," Xander sank to his knees at Spike's feet.
"You goin' to offer me something for not killin' him, the way you did with that bint in Seattle?"
Xander looked up at Spike in surprise.
"Told ya, you aren't good at lying, pet. So, are you going to try and distract me from this wanker? I seem to remember this one here dropped ya in a toilet once. In fact, Red called what this one did terrorism."
"But," Xander stopped. Chad had done all that, and more. Between Chad and Larry, freshman P.E. had been as close to torture as Xander had ever come, and that included what Spike did to him on a regular basis. "Please," he finally begged.
Xander knelt up and pressed his cheek against Spike's bulge. Reaching down, Spike unzipped his jeans and slipped his cock out, the head poking out from the foreskin. Xander closed his eyes in relief. This he knew how to deal with. This he loved dealing with.
Xander took the head into his mouth and moaned happily as he sucked at the cock and felt it grow. Working his lips around the shaft, he slowly worked down until the cock touched the back of his throat. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he lunged forward, feeling the pressure in his throat. He half gagged, half swallowed, and tried to smile as he felt the answering jerk in Spike's body.
The need for air forced him back and he happily sucked as Spike's cock, teasing the end with little jabs of his tongue. Spike made a little growling sound, and Xander felt his own cock try to inflate. Unfortunately, his own cock still had cords wrapped around it.
Letting the cock slip out of his lips, Xander bent to lick the heavy balls, the crinkled hair tickling his face and the damp cock resting on one cheek. Xander sucked them in gently, exploring their familiar shapes and worshiping them. A fist pulled at his curls, and Xander obediently returned to the main event.
This time, he sucked as hard as he could, and Spike grabbed at the shelf as he threw his head back. Deep throating Spike for a second time, Xander felt Spike jerk and start to orgasm. He sucked happily, the salty, thick liquid escaping at the corners of his mouth and dribbling out. Xander didn't wipe his face as he looked up.
Spike's head was still thrown back, his mouth open as he recovered from the orgasm. Xander couldn't believe that he had the power to reduce Spike to this gasping creature who clung to the shelf.
"My beautiful pet," Spike said as he reached down and ruffled Xander's hair. "But someone still needs to learn a lesson."
The words ripped the satisfaction from Xander as he looked over at Chad who started to struggle again.
"Please, Master. I'll do better next time. Please don't kill him." Xander broke one of the first rules, clinging to Spike's leg to try and physically stop him. It might be a worthless gesture what with vamp super-strength, but Xander had run out of other options.
"Pet." Spike's warning didn't make Xander let go; however, the fist in his hair, dragging him back did. Spike crouched down, and Xander could feel his body tremble even though he couldn't seem to feel any emotion in particular. He just focused on the concrete floor and waited for punishment, even worse, he waited for Spike to kill Chad and that would be all his fault.
"Pet, ya did perfect. I won't kill him if it means this much to ya, but he isn't some random bird who's caught my eye. He hurt ya, and you're mine." Spike's voice was so calm. Xander trembled harder as Spike grabbed his collar and forced him to look up.
"Who's your master?" Spike demanded in a firmer voice.
"And who makes the decision?"
"And whose responsibility is it?"
Xander paused. Spike reached up and slipped his fingers under the collar and used his grip to pull Xander closer. Now the collar was so tight that Xander could barely breathe.
"And whose responsibility is it?" Spike repeated, his game face out and the fangs making every 's' longer.
"Yours, master," Xander barely whispered.
"Right, so time to take care of business." Spike switched over to playful joy as he stood. "So, Chad… you do know that's a soddin' stupid name, right?" Spike asked as he slapped Chad's bare ass. Chad's eyes had gone wide, and he didn't even move as Spike leaned against the bars.
"See, ya don't understand something important about the world, mate. When you hurt someone, there's always a price ta pay. Some people are tough enough to demand payment and others aren't, but the price is there. Now, don't get me wrong. I don't care even if you really have left a trail of half-dead boys behind ya. If those wankers can't make you pay, that's their problem. But Xander's mine, and ya hurt him. Personally, I think the price for what you've done to my pet should be death."
Chad still didn't move, his body stiff with fear as Spike watched him, trailing a finger up his naked side. Xander held his breath, hoping.
"This is where you learn, innit?" Spike asked sweetly as he pulled a knife out. Chad's nose flared as he gasped for air.
Xander watched in horror as one red line after another appeared with small neat strokes. Chad started with muffled screaming, but ended up simply hanging as Spike flicked blood droplets with each precise letter. Every few minutes, he would step back to admire his work and rub a black paste into the torn flesh before continuing. As he finished the last word, tiny blood rivers had flowed together so that a red trail disappeared into his butt crack.
Spike let the knife follow the trail lightly, and Chad just hung limply.
"Think you can remember this lesson?" Spike asked his face and inch from Chad's. Chad nodded slowly.
"Right then. My pet has been bloody brilliant tonight, so I'm going to take him home, shag him, and give him the best blowjob of his life. I'm sure someone will find you by mornin'." Spike gave Chad a swat on the ass with the flat of the blade before putting the knife away. Chad could only blink with an expression that probably meant disbelief.
Spike held out his hand, and Xander took the help to get up, his knees numb with the kneeling.
"You'd best stay close to my back, pet, or you're going to end up arrested for indecent exposure," Spike commented, just like he had before they'd left the lair that evening. Xander obediently fell into step right behind so that the duster hid his bound erection. When Spike opened the storeroom door, the evening's entertainment had obviously ended. Most of the bar was empty, only a few leathermen lounging with their beers, but nothing that would send a tourist running.
Spike crossed the floor with decisive strides, and Xander followed as close as possible without tripping himself and his master. No one even glanced their way. Behind them, Chad still hung from the bars, his back seeping, in both blood and black ink...