Xander flinched as he sat gingerly on a cheap aqua blue office chair. Spike had told him that he was going to be spanked with the small paddle to make sure he’d remember what he was. It certainly had been effective. He had no problem remembering he was the blond’s property right now. His ass felt like it had been set to London broil. To make things worse, the slightest movement wiggled the damned anal toy that his bloodsucking Master had ordered him to wear, sending bolts of raw pleasure through his body at the most inconvenient times. He’d gotten a couple of odd looks when he’d gone to oversee some things around the site this morning. Guess the guys weren’t accustomed to seeing him squirm like he had ants in his pants. They probably hadn’t heard him gasp or squeak for no apparent reason that much either. Thank God the shirt the vampire had selected for him was long enough to cover up any unwanted physical responses. Which was good because, as per usual, the blond had made sure he was painfully aroused before he left home.
He’d been almost relieved when he’d had to go into the trailer, which served as the onsite office, in order to complete some overdue paperwork. At least he wouldn’t be blushing in the presence of his co-workers each time he shifted the wrong way and the annoying little plug brushed his prostate. It had almost made up for how painful sitting down was.
Xander rubbed his temples. Reading over these reports was giving him a headache. Although his promotion to foreman had meant less physical labor, it also meant a lot more responsibility. Sometimes the brunet almost longed for the days when he was just building stuff. He hadn’t had half as many worries back then. Somebody would tell him to do something and he’d just go do it. Now suddenly he was the guy giving everybody else instructions. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe it. He still half expected to wake up in the dank hole otherwise known as his parent’s basement.
Of course if his life up to this point was only a dream, then so was his slavery. He really didn’t think his subconscious could come up with that one, at least he hoped it couldn’t. If he woke up and found out that the whole dream job had been, just that, he’d be bitterly disappointed, but he'd get over it. If he woke up and realized he’d conjured up a repressed fantasy about being Spike’s male sex slave, he’d need years of therapy. Particularly if you took into account his physical reactions to his new Master or what said evil undead Master did to him daily.
He'd never have believed that he'd like having another man's penis inside him; but if he was honest with himself he had to admit that when Spike had sex with him, part of him took pleasure in it. The blonde vampire had touched him in ways that no other lover ever had. The discovery of the pleasure he could get from having his prostate stimulated had been a revelation to say the least. Xander had heard and read about it of course, but the idea of actually playing up there… He could admit it; he hadn't been anywhere near secure enough in his own masculinity to do that.
He'd never felt anything like that before. He was quite sure that even if he was freed from his obligation to his master tomorrow, he would never be able to go through life without feeling that kind of pleasure again. Despite the fear and degradation, he’d come to one of the most powerful orgasms in his life laying on his back as the Big Bad's shaft rubbed the sensitive gland with each and every stroke. Last night when he'd jacked off for Spike while fingering himself he'd become incredibly excited. He could only imagine how good it would have felt to actually be allowed to come at that point.
Anya had wanted to experiment while they were together. She'd tried a couple of times to convince him to let her use one of her vibrators on him, but he'd always turned her down. He'd let her run it over his cock and Oh God had that felt good, but he'd never been willing to experiment with any sort of anal play. He could distinctly remember Anya calling him repressed, after he'd flat out refused to allow her to put a finger inside of him while she sucked him off. She’d heard about it on some call-in sex show, and of course had wanted to try it out. One thing he could say about the former vengeance demon, even though she was always going on about her orgasms she took just as much pride and pleasure dishing them out.
He wasn't sure what all this meant. All he knew now was that he definitely enjoyed having the entire ass region played with. That didn't mean anything. It certainly didn't make him gay. He knew there was a percentage of perfectly straight men that loved having their wives or girlfriends fuck them with their toys. He was fairly certain that Ahn had given him statistics when she'd been trying to convince him to try it, probably even including some sort of pie chart. Now he desperately wished that they had tried it. The idea of his gorgeous ex doing those things to him made his cock throb even more painfully in his close-fitting jeans.
That probably pointed to the not gay theory. But then there were all these naughty thoughts he'd been having about people of the male variety since this whole debacle had started; like Angel, the great brood-mister himself. Even though he’d disliked Deadboy from the start, he'd always admitted to the vampire being buff. The creature the Powers had chosen as their champion was tall and handsome, in a broody really good-looking sort of way, with his big soulful brown eyes and well-developed physique. Even so, he'd still been shocked two nights ago when the naughty picture show of the vampire’s large pale body and that of Wesley had flashed through his brain.
Wesley Wyndham-Pryce was definitely someone that he really hadn't thought about in a sexual way when they had first met. Sure the Englishman had been handsome with his dark hair and piercing blue eyes, but as a teen he had been too threatened by the young foreigner to allow himself to do anything but dislike Giles’ replacement. The watcher kind of reminded him of Willow a little bit, what with all the social awkwardness. Of course back then the Brit had been such a bossy and pushy jerk most of the time, that Xander hardly felt guilty about the nasty way he'd treated the older man. With age and some distance, Xander had later come to realize that the Brit’s attitude had really just been a way to cover up his, now obvious, insecurity. Willow had told him that Wes wasn't the same man anymore. She'd said that she'd barely recognized him the last time she'd been in LA. Anyway, letting his mind give Angel's co-worker a quick once over, Xander could admit Wes was an attractive man. First, he had that sexy British accent going for him. He was cute in a James Bond, 007, kind of way. He supposed Wes had nice eyes. From what Xander had been able to make out, the former watcher kept himself in good shape. The man the council had sent to take his mentor’s place had a good body, well muscled without being overly bulky. He had a runner’s or a swimmer’s build kind of like Xander’s Mast… So not going there. Yeah he could understand why the image of Angel bending the Englishman over his desk had been both attractive and arousing to him. He could admit it. The two men were striking. He tried to imagine himself in either of their places. Eep! Did that mean he was gay? Maybe Anya had been right and he was repressed. He'd gotten turned on by picturing Giles and Ethan Rayne, of all people! Let's not panic here.
Okay on the possible closet case side we have Rupert Giles. The man was handsome. He was both sophisticated and refined. Xander was self aware enough to realize that he still half worshipped the man. That could explain part of the attraction. Giles had been the only solid male role model in his life.
Okay, Giles and Ethan Rayne. The sorcerer was dangerous and mysterious in a bad boy sort of way. He also had that sexy foreign accent charm that both Giles and Wesley had going on. He also wasn't too hard on the eyes. Xander wasn't so far in straight denial that he couldn't see the difference between two men like Giles and Ethan, and say Willy or Principal Snyder. Besides the idea of the chaos worshiping Rayne on his knees in front of… okay possible check on the gay side.
When exactly had he started checking himself for gayness? Probably when he’d come the first time while Spike was reaming his ass. Okay if he was going to do this he needed to examine both sides of the issue. What curvy babe in his life could he stack against the image of a chaos wizard and his former mentor, and let’s not forget Wesley and Angel doing the naughty on company property? His first love, the formidable Miss Cordelia Chase maybe?
She’d been his first real girlfriend. He’d become aroused easily at the mere thought of her in those days. He'd come home after a date with her with a stiffy more than once, until their relationship had so dramatically ended. She had been beautiful, with her long silken dark hair and legs that went on for miles. He whimpered at the thought of those long toned legs wrapped around his waist as she rode him hard. Okay definite check mark on the straight side.
Let's be fair. What guys had he known around the same time? Oz. He could admit it, the older boy had been attractive and the pinnacle of cool. The werewolf had a nice body; he'd seen it enough times when he'd been on wolf sitting duty. The idea of fooling around with Willow's ex was not totally gross. He tried picturing himself kissing the older boy; then laying on his stomach while the smaller man pumped into him. God! Another score for the might be gay column.
All right sexy women. Faith? She may be psycho, but there was no denying she was beautiful. There was something about that pouty little mouth. She was also the lady he’d had his first time with, something that he would always remember despite how it had ultimately turned out. He remembered how he'd felt while her small firm body had ridden him selfishly to completion. No denying he had enjoyed every second of it, but there was no doubt in his mind that he had been completely incidental to her. Any other guy would have done the trick, he’d been around and he’d been convenient. A microscopic part of himself, that he constantly told to shut the hell up and since he wasn’t a girl, regretted that Anya hadn’t actually been his first.
Still though, there was no arguing that he’d wanted it at the time. Faith was sexy and he’d always been attracted to women with strong dominant personalities and the dark haired slayer was most definitely that. He could easily picture himself on his knees at Faith’s feet forced to pleasure her under threat of punishment if he failed. Hetero side check, maybe the gay theory didn't have that much credence because the thought of being disciplined by the dark slayer put him strongly on the side of not gay.
Still there were men he had found attractive. Riley Finn. Can I have sex with Riley too? Tall, muscular with gorgeous boy next door looks. Mentally undressing the commando, the Scooby swallowed nervously. Gay side check.
No list of people he was attracted to could be complete without Buffy, the now dear friend who had been his one time goddess and high school crush. She was a small and beautiful blond bundle of ass-kicking power. When it came to strong women, Buffy Ann Summers was the pinnacle. Xander had woken up wet and sticky more than once over the years imagining that the whole scene in the library with the trench coat had ended differently. If he hadn’t been in love with Cordy at the time and possessed no shred of conscience, who knows what might have been? If he’d had no scruples, like when he’d been possessed by the hyena spirit, he very well might have taken the little blond slayer up on her blatant offer.
This line of thought was getting him nowhere. He couldn't decide. He was getting turned on by the images of both men and women... He'd noticed that some men were attractive for a long time, even his brand new Master. Spike is strong and mysterious and sort of compact but well muscled. He couldn't believe those words had left his lips. He was bi? He guessed it was possible. Who said his sexual preference had to be one or the other? His Dad? Now there was a Rhodes scholar whose opinion he should base his life on.
It’s not like hypothetically admitting that he might be attracted to men would be the end of the world. Willow was gay and he had no problem with that. He’d been a little weirded out at first, but once he’d come to know Tara he’d grown to truly love and admire the shy blond Wicca. Besides, pretending he had a problem with Willow’s choice of lifestyle would have been a little hypocritical after his post Adam dream. Damn it, if he didn’t stop this line of thought, he was going to disgrace himself and come in his pants like a teenager. That would bring him yet again, more punishment. His poor backside was sore enough, thank you very much! He was pretty sure Spike would know if he came without his permission; that was assuming the blond vampire’s claim that he would be able to smell what his slave ate for lunch was true. The brunet was fairly certain that it was. He remembered Angel pulling some pretty creepy things out of thin air, stuff he just shouldn’t have been able to know. Stupid vampires going around smelling people all the time.
Xander sighed, quickly leafing through the reports laid out before him, and doing his best to finish the crew assignments for the next week. It wouldn’t do him much good to jump through Spike’s hoops, only to be fired for gross incompetence. The work wasn’t difficult as much as it was tedious. After doing this for a few months, balancing employee and material availability had become second nature. He was fairy proficient at making sure the entire process remained cost efficient. After a lifetime of dead-end jobs, the former delivery boy was still surprised at how good he was at coordinating his crew. He supposed he’d gotten used to being the comic relief for the Scoobies. Except for that one time at graduation, no one had ever really seemed to recognize Xander for his leadership skills. It was nice being at a place were his opinions were valued and taken into actual consideration.
With some effort the young foreman managed to put his physical discomforts out of mind. Once he’d immersed himself in his task the brunet succeeded in wrapping up his work in fairly good time. As the day wore on he found that the throbbing ache he’d known at the beginning of the day had morphed into mere tenderness. Xander certainly hoped his Master wouldn’t deem another punishment necessary tonight. Sitting was no longer the torture it had been a couple of hours earlier, but the young man definitely didn’t feel ready for another round over the blonde vampire’s lap.
A knock on the trailer door startled Xander. Damn, probably some unforeseen problem. Construction sites were always fraught with unexpected obstacles, construction sites on the Hellmouth, even more so. He just hoped this was a snafu of the human variety and they hadn’t disturbed the nest of some monster of the week or God help him another Indian burial ground.
“Yeah?” He called out. Sighing he poked his head out the door, only to be nearly bowled over by an anxious five foot six red headed Witch.
“Someone to see you Xan,” Jason, a talented, but fairly recent addition to Xander’s crew, pointed out unnecessarily.
“Um thanks,” the brunet muttered, trying unsuccessfully to extricate himself from his best friend’s python like grip. He was so dead. Spike is going to kill me or at the very least make me wish I was six feet under, Xander thought, as he watched Jason head back to whatever he had been working on before Willow had showed up.
“Oh Xander, we’ve been so worried about you! How could you do something so incredibly stupid, yet selfless, but still really dumb, although courageous and generous, but never the less unbelievably asinine?” The slight girl rambled on, slapping her best friend hard on the shoulder to show her displeasure. Xander couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard her babble on like that. He thought it was something she left behind in high school. It was a measure of just how upset she really was about the situation. Xander swallowed guiltily. He took a deep calming breath, trying to firm his resolve. He’d known this wouldn’t be easy.
“Wills…” he began, finally disentangling himself from the petite witch’s embrace. It was hard when all he wanted to do was hold his best friend to him and never let go. He shook himself, reminding himself that what he wanted wasn’t relevant anymore. He’d made his decision now he would have to live with the consequences, however painful they may be. Even now he felt an ever so slight tug on the bond he shared with Spike, reminding him of his promise. Willow, oblivious to Xander’s inner struggle just ploughed on.
“Are you Okay? I don’t see any bruises. Giles said it didn’t look like Spike was trying to hurt you,” Willow continued unfazed.
“I’m fine Willow. I’m sorry all of you were worried, but Will you can’t be here,” the brunet reminded her, trying to sound firm.
“Xander, I needed to see you. I had to make sure you were still in one piece. This was the only way I could think of getting you alone without Spike,” the young woman insisted looking up at her companion earnestly.
“I’m not allowed to see you guys. Willow you need to go,” he answered, looking down at his work boots, unable to meet her gaze.
“Spike’s not here,” Willow insisted, putting a restraining hand on Xander’s upper arm.
“No, but he’ll smell you all over me when I get home tonight and then I’ll be in for it,” he answered reasonably, as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world. “He made it pretty clear last night, when we ran into Giles, that I’m not allowed to talk to you guys. Please Willow, every second that you’re here, you’re getting me further into the proverbial dung heap. If Spike feels like he can’t trust me, he won’t let me keep this job.”
“He can’t do that,” Willow protested indignantly.
“He can do whatever he wants with me. I belong to him now”, the dark haired man gently reminded her. She needed to understand that this wasn’t a game.
“Xander why did you do it? We would have found some other way!” Willow exclaimed, her eyes shining. Despite the tears forming in his best buds eyes, the words still made the brunet bitter. Why did everyone seem to think he’d gone into this blind? He may not have anticipated that his Master would take such a sexual interest in him, but it wasn’t like he’d had no idea what he would be giving up. He’d gone through with the ritual knowing full well he was forfeiting his freedom.
“How?” Xander couldn’t help himself from asking a little spitefully. He knew he wasn’t being fair, but at this point he couldn’t seem to care. None of the others had any idea what he’d been through during the past couple of days. He was getting tired of the other Scoobies telling him it didn’t mean anything.
“Xander we would have found some other way. We always do,” his best friend replied irritably, as if she was stating the obvious. Xander supposed she was, in a way. Buffy winning in the end had been a forgone conclusion for so long it sometimes seemed as obvious as the sun rising the next morning. Even Buffy’s dive from the tower and subsequent death hadn’t ultimately stopped them.
“Have you found a way yet?” he demanded. Okay, he was being an ass. Giles had told him that the girls had been working non-stop on getting him out of this. But damn it, he was a grown man, he didn’t need the girls to revise all of his decisions. He wasn’t some simpleton who needed protecting from himself. It had been a tough situation and he done what he had to do. He regretted the pain it had caused the others, but he did not regret what he’d done. “Have you found a way yet? How would you have stopped it Willow? What was this brilliant plan B that I was too dense to think of?” Xander insisted, becoming angry in spite of himself. Did the rest of the gang think that this had been a decision he’d made lightly?
“We don’t know,” the young woman admitted sadly, the fatigue of sleepless nights evident in her voice. ”We’ve tried Xander, we haven’t stopped trying. We’ll find a way.”
“I know you believe that Wills, but we were out of time. Somebody needed to face reality,” he pointed out as calmly as he could.
“And you decided that it had to be you,” Willow choked bitterly, shaking her red tresses.
“I was the most logical choice. I contribute the least to the group. Buffy needs you and Tara to provide the mojo,” the brunet began explaining.
“Xan,” Willow interrupted, laying a hand on his arm. He did his best to ignore the hurt look on her face when he jerked it away. He knew he should have already ended their conversation, but if he didn’t make her understand she would simply keep trying to contact him. At this point, his owner would be furious with him either way.
“Will, no. He doesn’t even want us talking, much less touching. Like I was saying, I was the best candidate. You and Tara were out for obvious reasons. Anya despite her many faults is your best link to the demon community. You need her and the perspective she provides, especially now that Spike is through with you guys. There was Dawn, but we both know that that was never an option. She’s only a kid. Besides who knows what a girl who came from a mystical ball of energy might become,” Xander continued, hoping he sounded at least as reasonable out loud as he did in his head.
“And you don’t believe that you add anything to our group? Xander we need you. You’re the heart of the Scoobies. You talk about the perspective Anya provides. What about you? Everything that the rest of us do or see is tainted by our respective powers. You see things in a way none of the rest of us do or will ever be able to. We need you Xander,” Willow insisted earnestly.
“You’re going to have to find a new everyman then, Willow. I’m not going to be available for the foreseeable future,” he held. This wasn’t working. Why couldn’t Willow just leave this be? Because she’s Wills. He needed to end this. Problem was; he really didn’t want to. “Hey, maybe if those nerds get tired of playing evil geniuses, one of them will volunteer. I’m sure Jonathan or Tucker’s brother, what’s his name, will be able to get the jelly-filleds just as well as I can. I know they’re not really everymen since they’re one with the magic too, but…”
“Xander!” Willow tried to interrupt, looking hurt.
“Look I’m sorry, but next time somebody busts through the Summers’ front window you girls will have to call a handy man like everyone else. I’m not going to be around as free labor anymore,” he snapped meanly.
“You can’t really believe that,” she exclaimed, the tears that had been welling in her eyes finally spilling over. She wiped her eyes hurriedly.
“Or what? You’ll make me believe something else? Mojo my mind into doing whatever you want? Maybe make me forget everything again? That’s your new thing isn’t it? Playing inside people’s heads when they don’t do exactly what you want. Didn’t work so well on Tara though did it?” he spat viciously.
He didn’t even see the slap coming. Even though he’d known it would take saying something unforgivable to get Willow to give up, something so hurtful that would forever damage their friendship, it still came as a surprise. He stood in the doorway a long time after Willow’s sobbing form had disappeared in the distance, trying to hold back tears of his own. He failed.
Spike crushed out the remainder of his cigarette in the chipped bowl that he’d been using as an ashtray, before sprawling back down on the sofa. The day had started out fairly well, seeing his boy off to work. He’d managed to get the boy all flushed and embarrassed, before sending him away for the day. His Xander was surprisingly pretty when he blushed. A lovely rosy colour would rush up his entire face and those big brown eyes would inevitably focus on the floor. The boy was definitely a born submissive. Harris had always been more of a follower than a leader from what he’d seen. In all honesty despite the master vampire’s reservations, things really couldn’t have turned out better for him. The whelp was by far the easiest of the slayerettes for him to control. Course his boy also had a wicked stubborn streak, but winding him up was half the fun. Spike was quite convinced that his Kitten was fair superior to any of the other alternatives.
The red headed witch, though quite lovely, was growing more and more unstable by the moment. He was almost relieved that he’d been unable to make good on his threat to turn her. The Devil only knew what she would do next. Still running off the high of resurrecting Buffy, the chit was rapidly spinning out of control. He only hoped that the Watcher would be able to talk some sense into the girl before she did something irreparable. That was if the old bugger decided to stay on the Hellmouth and not turn tail and run, again.
Now the other witch, the vampire wasn’t certain about. He had a feeling though that the blonde witch would have been a problem as well. Glinda wasn’t half as timid as she made herself out to be. An infinitesimal part of Spike liked to think that he’d played a role in that. She’d quietly grown more and more confident since learning that she was in fact human and not the monster that she and all the womenfolk in her family had always been painted as. He could see a time in the future when the bird’s family would live to regret their deception, if not from Tara, then likely her former paramour. This was another reason the blonde girl would have made a poor pet in the long run. Taking her would very likely have sent the little redhead into a right tizzy. Not to say that she didn’t care deeply for Harris, but she’d faced off with a Hell God for the blonde girl. He’d seen the beginnings of what Willow Rosenburg could do in a rage and had no real desire to push her over the edge. Neither of the witches were good choices as companions.
The demon girl had been interesting to have a go with, and might even have made an interesting partner in crime. He was certain that the two of them could have done some damage together in the days before the chip. Spike, however, was quite certain that after a week with her as his plaything, that he’d be ready to stake himself. Anyanka was too pushy to ever make a good slave. Besides there was something about a lady who’d spent the better part of a millennia making blokes dangly bits fall off that would turn even a vampire off eventually.
Now his little Nibblet he was surprisingly ambivalent about. He knew that he adored her and could well make her into his new dark princess. He couldn’t say with total certainty that he wouldn’t do so should the chip ever become ineffective. Of course, in doing so, the teenager that had half-adored him would be destroyed. His Little Bit’s innocence gone forever. Replaced by a similar, but different creature that wore his sweet young friend’s face. He wasn’t deluded enough to not realize it would eventually happen anyway. The teenager would grow into a woman; she was already half way there. She was becoming a beautiful young lady, her once gangly and awkward limbs, becoming light and graceful. Physically she reminded him of a lighter haired Drusilla. He was fairly confident that he was the only one that could see it. The others still considered her a little girl, never mind that Red, the slayer and of course his Kitten were all already protecting the Hellmouth by the time they were her age.
Still there was a part of him that still thought of himself as the girl’s protector. Till the end of the world. On some level taking Dawn would have been strange, and unnatural. Wrong. He growled, pushing that silly idea out of his head. Hello, he was evil! E-V-I-L. He’d been around the bloody Scooby gang too long, he sighed standing up and stretching. He was a vampire, yet he’d let himself become infected by these children and their silly ideas. Maybe Dru had been right. He snarled angrily to himself, reaching across the coffee table for his cigarettes and lighter. With agility borne out of years of practice he pulled a fag out and lit it in one fluid motion.
This contemplation was useless. Who cared what might have been with the others? The boy was his, to use in anyway he saw fit. The vampire smiled remembering the previous weekend. He hadn’t felt this good in ages. Just remembering the feel of his boy, so sweet and tight, clamped around him was making him hard again. Bloody Hell! His pet wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours yet. He’d just have to wile away the hours deciding exactly what he’d do with his dark haired toy once he got home. Right now though, Spike was having difficulty focusing on anything beyond shagging the whelp silly. He wanted to plunge into the male Scooby the moment he walked through the door.
He’d have to be careful not to damage his pet though. He did secretly worry about just how far he could take his brown eyed beauty. Mortals were fragile, brittle things. Press a little too hard here, pound a little too forcefully there and all his fun would be over. So he’d have to be creative with his tormenting of the boy. He’d tried a great deal of the tamer stuff that he and Dru had gotten into over the years, but knew there wasn’t much more left to draw from that well. Problem was, he wasn’t used to human sex, let along, sex with a human bloke. His experiences with his Grandsire, well those were better left in the past.
Truth was, most of his experience was with women, mostly Dru, in fact. Well of course Buffy and sadly Harm, but the time he’d spent with them hardly seemed to compare to a century with Drusilla. He’d been a virgin when he’d been turned. A couple of his “friends” had tried to drag him to a brothel once as part of a cruel prank, but nothing had come of that. They had been most amused when their little escapade had yielded the expected result, young William being utterly scandalized and rushing home to Mother. The entire episode had left the Victorian both confused and aroused.
In any event, all three of the relationships had been bizarre. Drusilla’s sexual appetites and tastes had been brutally moulded at the hands of her maker and Spike had been able to do nothing in over a century to change that. Not that the blond minded a little rough bed sport form time to time. Only, there had been times when the blond had wanted to track down his Grandsire and send the bastard to Hell were he belonged. Only the fear that Drusilla might take a stroll in the garden at midday without him to watch over her, had prevented him from starting off on the fool quest some nights. The sheer devastation of what that wanker had done to his Dru, made even a creature that’d gotten his name torturing his victims with railroad spikes, shudder. Yet time and time again his black hearted beauty had returned to her sire, if not in reality, then at the very least in her mind. That had always been the hardest for Spike, when Dru needed him to play Angelus. Needless to say his Xander didn’t have the physical fortitude for those kinds of games. He’d played them though, time and time again for over a century; been everything that she needed, only to be cast aside when the genuine article had triumphantly returned.
His relationship with Harm, strangely enough, was probably his most “normal” relationship, hampered only by the fact that he couldn’t stand the bloody annoying chit. Shame though, the sex had actually been pretty good. Unfortunately he’d felt next to nothing for the newly turned teenaged girl. The only thing he could see improving that farce of a liaison was the silly bint becoming mute.
He didn’t even know how to classify the train wreck that had been his relationship with Buffy. He still couldn’t believe that he’d told her about Cecily. Of course being the sensitive soul that she was, she’d turned that against him. It wouldn’t be you, Spike. It could never be you. You’re beneath me. Oh yes, paragons of virtue, these white hats. Have someone confide in you, share their most intimate secrets with you and then turn around and stab them in the heart with them. Still didn’t stop her from asking for his help. She hadn’t asked his boy, the watcher or the witch. When it came down to protecting that which was most precious to her, she had come to him. I'm counting on you ... to protect her. Love sick fool that he was, he’d agreed. Till the end of the world. Even if that happens to be tonight. He’d been a fool to think any of that would mean anything to his ladylove.
Even after her death he’d continued to honour that promise, patrolling with the Watcher and the children. He’d been their only real muscle aside from the Buffybot. The robot, though a technological marvel, still behaved far too erratically to be trusted to protect his Nibblet. The slayer’s little sister was the only part of Buffy he had left and he wasn’t about to leave her unguarded. Besides he’d promised.
After the foolish children had brought Buffy back from the grave, he’d been the one she’d turned to. The only one she felt able to share her feelings with. He’d been so sodding happy at the time. His girl was finally connecting to him. The sad truth was he was the only one she had not been afraid of hurting with the truth of what they had really done to her. If he still believed for one moment that it was because he hadn’t had any part in bringing her back, he could have lived with that. He would have been able to accept that without regret.
He wasn’t the only one who hadn’t participated in the idiocy of resurrecting their fallen comrade, though. She could have gone to the Watcher. She should have called him. Wouldn’t the old boy have been the most logical place to go for guidance? Problem was, she cared for the old man. She’d known the knowledge would break the Englishman’s heart. So she’d gifted her secrets to Spike, he was in love with her, and would keep her confidence. He was a dead thing, his feelings unworthy of consideration; he’d just been too much of a fool to realize it at the time. He’d actually thought that they were bonding.
Perhaps having the entire house fall around them when they had shagged the first time should have given him an inkling of the girl’s true feelings or possibly the fact that his lover had insisted on absolute secrecy? He’d known that he was only a means to an end, a way for the disengaged young woman too feel again. Even so, he’d let her seek him out, time and time again, so that she could make herself feel once more. That is until she decided that she’d had her fill, that she’d indulged in her slumming long enough. Then it had been goodbye Spike, your company and presence are no longer required, thanks so much for being a good sport, now run along like a good lad and don’t let the door hit you on the arse on the way out. His little golden heroine had used prettier words though. I’m using you. I can’t love you. I’m just… being weak, and selfish… and it’s killing me. I’m sorry… William. Cast aside like so much rubbish. Now didn’t that little tune sound familiar somehow? He was love’s bitch all right.
But then, then Spike had committed the most heinous crime, he’d found some comfort with some one else. How dare he! That wasn’t for him; no he was supposed to wait on standby in case the stupid bint changed her mind and decided she needed his services again. The look she’d given him outside the magic shop. He’d thought he was going to have it out with her one and for all right there in the street, but then she’d just walked away. Not having spared him a second glance. He snarled angrily at the memory. Angelus, Drusilla, Buffy, Hell even Harmony, in the end they always left. Not his Kitten though, the young man was his, would never abandon him. Because he can’t, an annoying little voice that sounded suspiciously like that tart Cecily whispered in the back of his mind.
What Spike needed was a good stiff drink. The immortal punk snuffed out what was left of his cigarette, stood up and made his way to the kitchen, going straight to the Cupboard over the sink. There was beer in the icebox, but at the moment the hyperactive vampire was in need of something more potent. He’d been surprised to find that his pet actually had a decent liquor cabinet this morning when he’d unpacked his things. Probably Anya’s influence, the birds were all about dinner parties and entertaining these days. Couldn’t have a proper dinner party without some nice cocktails, now could you? Fine with him, just meant more booze for the blokes. Hmmm, rum, gin, tequila, bourbon… whiskey, that should do nicely, Spike decided pulling out a nearly full bottle. He quickly uncapped the bottle, drinking down a sizable gulp, and not bothering with a glass.
He’d managed to empty a good third of the bottle when he was interrupted by someone insistently pounding on the flat’s door, hard enough to make the dishes in the cupboard’s shake precariously. Spike recognized the scent before his visitor ever said a word. He’d been drenched in that smell often enough over the past few months. If he hadn’t been drinking, she never would have gotten to door before he detected his ex-lover’s unique fragrance.
“Open the door Spike or I swear I’ll kick it down,” The Slayer demanded angrily, still beating her fist against the door. He considered just leaving her out there, but decided against it. Sighing, he slid the chain out of its track and unlocked the door.
“That would just end up coming out of Harris’ security deposit, you realize?” He smirked, leaning against the doorway, attempting to look nonchalant.
“We need to talk Spike,” the petite young woman declared, brushing past him.
“I thought we had nothing left to talk about, luv. You made that achingly clear,” he snapped, slamming the door behind them.
“Spike…” she began, obviously trying to contain her anger. Well, no self respecting vampire could allow that, not that he could still be considered self respecting. Sodding Hell, the bloody drink was making him positively maudlin.
“Did you change your mind and decide you wanted another tumble?” He leered, stopping short of calling her pet. It seemed wrong now somehow, which was silly, it wasn’t as though it was an honour that should be reserved for the boy.
“Don’t be disgusting, I came to talk, Spike. Actually no, I know that appealing to your sense of decency won’t do any good,” she sniffed in obvious disdain.
“Don’t have any, ducks,” he smirked in what he hoped was his best parody of his former self. Stupid bird, how dare she come here and dredge up all these feelings. As if her presence was required for that, the Cecily voice taunted.
“Believe me, I know. I’ve come to negotiate,” Buffy replied in obvious distaste.
“Negotiate?” Would Slayer and company never get the point? There was no way for them to get male slayerette out of this. Circumventing the bargain, would collapse the orb’s power, sending the world into chaos.
“For my friend, tell me what it will take to make you leave Xander alone?” Did the stupid bint really think there was anything that would buy him off? Did she think any amount of power or money would buy back the devotion that he’d once felt for her? Could she even conceive of adoration so powerful that it had caused him to try and change his very nature for her? Buffy had no idea what she’d thrown away. He’d tried to become a white hat for her, but nothing had been good enough. Still he was… beneath her.
Well, he had better now. A warm, soft body his for the taking, completely subject to his whims. It was time for someone to see to him, long past time. He’d spent his entire existence looking after everybody else’s needs, always putting himself second. It was finally his turn! As if he’d even consider giving that up!
“Nothing, the carpenter is mine and I have no intention of giving him up. He’s a right sweet shag and as you can see, thanks to him my circumstances have improved,” Spike waved in the general direction of the apartment. Though the effect would have been better, had he managed to redecorate. Really, who had tools hung up in the living room?
“I could have the chip removed,” she whispered knowingly, attempting to entice him.
“What? Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I haven’t tried, Slayer?” the master vampire snarled furious.
“I have access to resources that you don’t. I’m still in contact with Riley, his people know more about the chip than anyone on the planet. I could persuade him to have it removed,” the little vixen tempted.
“Captain Cardboard would never allow it. He’d never allow me to run free, capable of harming humans,” Spike snapped dismissing the idea.
“He’d do it for me,” his hazel eyed former obsession insisted.
“Not anymore he wouldn’t. I think you’re overestimating your own importance, sweet. Cornbread has a new lady now, one that doesn’t use him to get off while thinking of Angel. Besides did it not occur to you that that would have been the very first thing that I would ask for? Returning me to my former glory wasn’t an option the Powers would even consider. You have nothing to offer me, girl,” he hissed. The statement was mostly true.
“Not even myself?” Buffy offered, moving into her former adversary’s personal space.
“What?” He seemed to be asking that over and over. He knew he must be blinking stupidly, his surprise evident.
“I’ll give you what you want Spike, me, back in your bed. I know you still want me. I know you miss me. Miss us,” she offered, moving to rub against him. Yes part of him did still want it. Bollocks, in truth, it had been the first thing that he had asked for. How pathetic had he become that he wouldn’t ask to be restored first? That should have been his first thought, but no he would have been willing to remain as he was, neutered and impotent, in order to have her again, but not any longer.
“Would you do that? Would you play the whore for me? Let me tie you down and shag you in his place? Would you whimper for me like he does? Let me tease you, caress you until you’re almost at the point of no return, only to stop and leave you there, aching in frustrated misery?” Spike was trying to be vicious, but honestly it sounded too much like the games that he and the chosen one had been playing not so long ago. Difference was even when he’d been the one in control she’d still held all the power.
“Yes,” she whispered, her beautiful eyes filling with tears. She’d do it too. Wouldn’t that just give her a merry excuse to keep things going with good old Spike? He thought taking a long swig out of the bottle he’d almost forgotten he’d been holding. He wiped his mouth angrily with the back of his hand. She’d be able to keep using him to get her jollies and be all self-righteous and noble about it.
“Too bad I’m no longer interested,” he growled scornfully. “Besides you can’t force me to give up my claim on Harris, not by threats, not by force, not even by bribery. it would destroy the magic of the orb, turn it into a paper weight. It’s the mystical keystone to the gateway leading into this dimension, without it the walls of this universe would collapse. You cannot knowingly interfere, girl. No outside influence can break Xander’s connection to me.”
“You said you loved me,” she begged sounding desperate.
“I did. I fought by your side, defended your loved ones, and looked after them even after you were gone, but none of that was ever good enough for you. I’m nothing to you,” he barked angrily.
“Don’t you understand that’s why I had to stop it, Spike? I couldn’t keep doing that to either of us,” she pleaded, asking for his understanding.
“Shut up! Stopping had nothing to do with me! Don’t you stand there and pretend you ended it for my benefit. It was you. Always been all about you. Your pain, your frustration, your anger. You couldn’t take it out on your saintly friends, but it was fine to take it out on me. It was fine to make use of me as a sympathetic ear, a fuck toy, a punching bag, whatever you were in the mood for. You knew how I felt, you knew I wouldn’t say no to you. I let you, over and over again. Do you know what that was like? Well not any more,” he was yelling now. The neighbours could probably hear them, hopefully no one was calling the police.
“Spike, I…” she began, only to stop. What could she really say to that? The absolute anguish on her face almost made him want to reach out and comfort her. “Please Xander didn’t do anything. If you’re angry at me, then take it out on me. What you’ve just described me doing to you, that’s almost exactly what you’re doing to Xan and he doesn’t deserve that.”
“He made his choice. He willingly turned himself over to me,” Spike answered defensively.
“At least let us see him then, just to make sure he’s all right,” the young woman requested anxiously.
“Sod off. He’s just bloody peachy, learning all about the joys of sodomy. Now get out!” the vampire rumbled mockingly.
“Spike…” the shorter woman appealed, reaching out for him. He immediately stepped back, out of her reach.
“I told the watcher and now I’m telling you. Stay away from me and my pet. I swear if you don’t leave within the next thirty seconds, I’ll start packing this place up and move myself and the boy out of Sunnydale, tonight. I’ll take him from his job and that useless drunken excuse of a family and move us half way around the world where you will never find us.” Spike threatened. He really hoped that it wouldn’t come to that, but if the Scoobies didn’t stop he would be left with no other alternative.
“No,” Buffy cried. Tears falling unashamedly down her lovely face.
“Twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven...” Spike counted, trying to control his pain and his anger. He was through bowing down to her.
“No, Spike I’ll go, please. I’ll go,” she pleaded raising her hands in an attempt to calm his rage. She shook her head on the way out the door, hugging herself. ”Spike, I know you’re angry with me right now, but please, please think before you take this out on him when he gets back tonight,” she said turning to face him one last time.
He slammed the door angrily behind her, locking it as if that would prevent her from getting back in if she so chose. Sod it. He’d finished the last bit of the whiskey. He was going to need another bottle.
Shit, shit, shit. Spike was going to kill him. Even he could smell Willow on himself from when she’d hugged him earlier, a weird mixture of her perfume, spell components and something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He could already feel the sting of his upcoming punishment. His horrible traitor of a penis wasn’t even adverse to the idea. Well his backside was! He was still tender from the paddling he’d been given that morning, and in no shape for more of the same. Of course, all of this was assuming that the vampire chose corporal punishment. Considering the alternatives, Xander was actually hoping he’d be ordered to assume the position again. Yep, sign him up for more spanking. A spanking good time all around!
He had to stop freaking out. Spike would be furious, but he’d listen. He wouldn’t just make Xander quit his job without even giving him a chance to explain. Yeah, because reasonable was the first thing that came to mind when thinking of Spike. Really, the gang should have declared him official negotiator years ago! The construction worker leaned against the elevator’s scuffed back wall, rubbing his face with his hands. He hadn’t had nearly enough sleep last night. Somehow he didn’t think he’d be catching up tonight.
Trying to wiggle the kink out from between his shoulder blades, he made his way out of the elevator and down the hall to his apartment’s front door. He sucked in a shaky breath, when his movements also caused the small bit of soft plastic that Spike had fitted him with earlier in the day to nudge his prostate gland. Digging his keys out of his pockets he quietly unlocked the door.
He hadn’t even managed to make it fully into the room, before he was grabbed by the shirt collar and shoved against the door by a furious Spike, as it turned out, a furious and very drunken Spike. Not that he really had any right to be throwing the proverbial stones. He’d been doing a fantastic imitation of his old man up until about week ago.
The chipped blond was sniffing him, inhaling his scent, growling all the while. “You’re mine,” his Master snarled furiously, before taking a gulp of whatever he was drinking, judging by Spike’s state it wasn’t the first bottle either.
“Yes, Master. I’m yours, only yours,” he whispered back, trying to will his body not to tense up. He knew that if he fought, it would only serve to piss off his inebriated assailant even more.
“You reek of one of the birds! I warned you, boy! Did you think I was playing? Obviously you can’t be trusted,” his apparently completely wasted owner growled angrily.
“Please, Master. She came to me, I told her to leave, I got her to leave, she won’t come around again,” the mortal pleaded. If that entire scene with Willow had been for nothing, if he’d said those terrible things to her for no reason he would have a nervous breakdown, he knew he’d just… shatter.
“Get the sodding Hell out of those clothes,” the vampire ordered furiously, stepping back and drinking down more of the liquor, never taking his eyes off of his prize. The taller man knelt down loosening the laces on his work boots before pulling them off and setting them by the door. He quickly pulled of his clothes and sank to his knees, automatically assuming the waiting position that he’d being taught the night before.
“Get those into the hamper and then get your ass back in here,” Spike ordered, turning his back to the nervous slayerette and skulking back towards the couch without a backwards glance. Xander scurried to obey. He briefly considered using his teeth, like Spike had had him do with his ‘unacceptable’ wardrobe the night before, but decided against it. That had been a pervy way of showing him his place, a way of setting the mood. This time the kneeling mortal decided he had best opt for speed. The longer it took him to make his way back, the madder the older creature would become.
It was awkward, crawling to the bathroom carrying his discarded clothing, but he managed to make it there and back pretty quickly. The plug that was still strapped into him wiggled distractingly with every movement.
“Get over here,” the sprawled figure on the couch ordered angrily. Damn, looked like a serious dent had been made in the liquor cabinet Anya had insisted that they set up. Bottles littered the floor beside the couch. What the Hell was going on? His Master had seemed happy enough, before sending Xander off to work that morning sore and over stimulated. What had happened while he was gone to change that? He hadn’t seen Spike this drunk since Buffy had died… Oh. So the girls had decided on a little tag team maneuver had they? This was so bad.
A cold pale hand snatched him by the hair the moment he got near the sofa. “Mine, keeping you, you don’t get to leave me. Now suck me,” the drunken vampire mumbled, his words slurring. Xander nodded. Wordlessly he reached to free his Master’s cock from his dark jeans. Spike was only half hard. It amazed the young man that the vamp had managed an erection at all, considering the amount of alcohol the blood drinking demon had obviously consumed.
The newly bonded slave still wasn’t used to doing this. His hair was wrapped in Spike’s fist, being pulled painfully. It was actually hurting Xander’s scalp. It felt like some stands were going to be torn out. He was glad it was cut shorter than it had been last year. All the other times Spike had had his servant take him into his mouth he’d been careful. He’d let the less experienced man suck him at his own pace. This time he was thrusting into the brown eyed man’s mouth, shoving into him and making him gag. Xander couldn’t help it, he started to cough and choke. He thought the immortal being was going to hit him for a second, but he just shoved him away roughly.
“You don’t get to reject me, like the others,” the distraught century old creature roared. “You were to be mine to keep, that was the deal. Go, just go wash her stink off of you and leave me alone, like I belong.” The last part was muttered so softly that Xander was barely able to make it out. He would have thought he’d imagine it, except that the drinking, rumpled looking figure on the couch was as sad as the kneeling man could ever remember seeing him.
Cautiously, the apprehensive young man inched his way closer to the lump that seemed to be trying very hard to pickle itself on his sofa. This was probably the single most idiotic thing he’d ever done. Yes, let’s get closer to the angry, totally sloshed evil undead guy! The twenty one year old knew from bitter personal experience how dangerous someone in this state could be. He should just obey Spike’s command and go clean up. Let the bloodsucker have his little pity party. He couldn’t help it though; he’d never seen anyone look this miserable.
“Master,” he breathed softly, hesitantly reaching out to touch a black clad knee.
“I told you to go,” his morose Master grunted, waving him away.
“Please Master, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to disobey, it was just a reflex. I’m sure with practice I’ll get better at… pleasing you,” he blushed, lowering his eyes from that piercing blue gaze.
“I can bloody well still smell your disobedience,” the vampire groused crankily, but he didn’t remove Xander’s hand from his body. He knew protesting his innocence would be useless until Spike calmed down a little more.
“Come with me and help me scrub it off then. Afterwards we could try again,” the human slave suggested. This was crazy; he was encouraging the peroxide menace to fool around with him in the shower. He wanted to get Spike of off the couch though and away from what he could now see was a nearly empty bottle of tequila. He ran the hand that had been resting on his owner’s knee between Spike’s carelessly splayed legs, up the inside seam of his jeans. If the vamp’s still exposed groin was any indication, he wasn’t adverse to the idea.
“You want me to shower with you?” Spike scoffed, tilting his head to the side and staring down at the human’s nude form, making Xander squirm just a little. He was all too aware that his throbbing hard on was clearly visible in his current position.
“Please, Master,” Xander nodded. His cheeks colored even further. He shivered, realizing that he was actually initiating sex. This was the first time he'd willingly offered himself. All their other encounters had been ordered. The dark haired man had kept his promise and obediently submitted to Spike, which hadn’t been nearly as traumatic as he’d imagined it would be, but now for the first time he was volunteering to pleasure his former adversary. He passively stayed there for a long time on his knees, trying his best not to fidget under his Master’s searing gaze.
“All right, Kitten, lead the way,” Spike finally said, after what seemed like an eternity. He’d never thought he’d be happy to hear the embarrassing pet name again, but he was.
It wasn’t only that the vampire had been so unusually rough. For the most part his master was surprisingly gentle when it came to using his body, preparing him carefully and with lots of lube. Yeah there had been some things that had ached, the spankings and the clamps, but Spike had a way of slowly building the pain so that by the time they got to the point where it should hurt terribly, Xander was always so turned on that it actually added to his excitement. If what had happened when he’d tried to blow Spike was any indication, the vampire had had no such inclinations tonight. But it wasn’t only the way that he’d been handled physically that had bothered him.
Even after the whole scene with Giles, Spike hadn’t treated him with the cool disregard that he had tonight. Despite how devastating being forced to luridly beg to be used as a sex toy had been, his owner had been almost… tender. He’d expected mockery from the vampire, after he was done with him. To be reminded how hard he’d been while he’d shamelessly begged to be used like a whore. The bleached menace hadn’t though, he’d consoled Xander, soothed and petted him. Spike usually did when the degradation became too much. It was probably unhealthy and certainly a little twisted, considering he was the direct cause of Xander’s distress, most of the time purposefully causing it, but tonight the young man found himself desperately missing that comfort.
Silently, the slender creature stood up. The nervous human was happy to see that the alcohol had been left behind. Still on all fours, he made his way to the bathroom, black clad figure following closely behind.
“Stand up, turn around and put your hands against the wall,” Spike ordered. As soon as he complied, the straps to the harness that had been his only decoration since shortly after getting home were quickly loosened. A cool hand brushed his hip lightly, before moving to knead his buttocks. He couldn’t conceal a small groan when Spike grabbed the base of the butt plug and expertly wiggled it a few times. Ever so slowly his Master worked the little trespasser out of his sore passage.
“Start the shower and do the trimming you need to do,” the blond instructed. Xander quickly obeyed, relieved Spike was having him do that himself. He didn’t really relish the idea of someone who wasn’t exactly walking straight holding a razor next to the family jewels. For the moment though Spike seemed content to just watch him through the crack left by the only partially closed shower curtain.
He thought that that was all his owner was going to do, since he didn’t move the entire time Xander was removing what little stubble had grown in since he’d showered before work, but as soon as the mortal finished and reached to put the dreaded pink disposable razor aside, his Master quickly stripped off his tight back clothing, then joined him without saying a word.
“Turn and face the wall. Spread your legs a bit. No, a little wider, good, just like that. Now clasp your hands behind your neck and leave them there,” his Master softly ordered. Xander felt a shiver run down his spine as he stood under the shower’s warm spray. He felt a cool hand, smaller than his own, reach around to fondle his freshly shaven balls, inspecting his work.
“Love how soft and smooth you feel. They feel nice and plump too, full of semen. Bet you feel about ready to explode, Kitten. How do those come laden bollocks feel hanging heavy between your legs as you crawl for me?” His owner breathed in his ear, pressing up against him, hand still lightly massaging his testicles. The young slave swallowed, if he hadn’t been glaringly aware of his genitalia before, his Master had just ensured that he would be from here on in. After coming home smelling of Willow, he was also certain that he was going to be in for another long evening with no sexual satisfaction in sight. He didn’t even bother trying to conceal his frustrated whimper.
After what seemed like an eternity Spike finally released him, but was back a split second later soapy washcloth in hand. Xander couldn’t help but quiver when the vampire slowly started running the coarse fabric around his belly button.
“Is this what you wanted, Kitten?” the cold blooded creature whispered sensuously. The mortal squealed when his companion’s free hand reached up to harshly twist his left nipple. The rough treatment didn’t stop, but the cloth did inch its way up his torso.
“Yes… Master,” he managed to stutter. At least they had abandoned the let’s marinate the evil undead guy game, and had gotten back to the somewhat familiar see if the male Scooby can die of blue balls game. Considering Spike had a tendency to throw things or hit people with heavy scientific equipment when drunk, Xander was fairly certain that this was safer.
He changed his mind when the washcloth reached his right nipple. Stupid Billy Idol wanabe! It was getting more and more difficult to keep still as his chest was tormented. Damn it, now Spike was chuckling.
“Will definitely have to see about those piercings,” Spike promised. What was almost certainly intended as a taunt only served to excite the human further. “Do you think I could make you disobey me if I kept doing this to you long enough? You think I could make you have an orgasm without ever touching your prick, Kitten? Are those pretty little teats that sensitive?”
“I don’t know Master,” he answered, sounding pathetic even to his own ears. He couldn’t keep back a dejected whine, as strong hands continued playing with his body. He felt blunt teeth nibbling his neck as the hand holding the soapy cloth was changed and his right nipple was now cruelly tweaked and twisted. It bordered on painful, but was also incredibly erotic. Xander knew that even after he was left alone, his tits would feel amazingly tender for hours.
His erection was throbbing almost excruciatingly. He’d gone longer than this without coming, he was sure he had. God it had only been 2 days. He’d gone longer than 48 hours without shaking hands with Mr. Happy before. The problem was, he hadn’t gone without jerking off; in fact Little Xander had never been the focus of so much attention before, not even during his time with Anya. What Xander hadn’t been permitted to do was get off.
After what seemed like an eternity, Spike finally seemed to have had enough of tormenting his chest. Xander could feel the two little persecuted nubs hammering against his torso like two miniature pulses. The suffering young man felt his owner move away; leaving him alone, trembling and intensely aroused. He felt Spike’s erection firmly digging into his hip a moment later, signaling the vampire’s return. He’d apparently gone to get the bar of soap. He began meticulously washing the rest of Xander’s body.
The last time Spike had done this he’d been all business, aside from a few lingering swipes to Xander’s nipples and anus; but today every touch seemed designed to send waves of helpless desire through the brunet. Having someone wash his arms shouldn’t have been so titillating. He quivered as he felt Spike crouch down, to bathe his legs. It seemed so naughty standing there motionless and subservient, legs open, hands joined behind his neck while his body was ever so slowly lathered.
Bleachie had touched him everywhere except his ass and rigid penis. The shower warmed body behind him straightened and Xander shuddered as his inner thighs were leisurely soaped.
“Bend at the waist a bit,” Spike ordered, placing a steadying hand against his waist, balancing the younger man as he obeyed. Silently he removed Xander’s hands from behind his neck “Brace yourself against the wall. Good, like that. Now, I want you to stay perfectly still. Your palms are to remain against that shower wall, understood?”
“Yes, Master,” he answered. What are you going to do to me? His mind demanded, but he managed to keep that to himself. Inside voice, inside voice. He got his answer a moment later when soap slicked bristly fabric was slowly run between his legs. Spike was pressing firmly, washing in gentle circles, on that sensitive spot right behind his balls. Xander couldn’t help but gasp. Oh God.
“You’re shaking, Kitten. You don’t like this?” the vampire purred, continuing his sensuous torture. “Answer me, pet. I want to know how it feels.”
The fanged menace expected him to be verbal? Now?
“Goo…good,” he managed to stammer. Spike snorted.
“Such a naughty, Kitten. Love having your Master play with you, don’t you? Love having that wicked bum teased too, don’t you?” the vampire taunted. How had Spike gone from staggering, falling down drunk, back to being able to play virtuoso with his body so quickly? Stupid vampire metabolism! The little towel was moving up his crack now.
“Yes,” he admitted, just as a slick finger breached him. It’s not as though it wasn’t obvious how worked up he was.
“I bet you thought about having me inside you while we were apart, remembered how well I stretched that tight hole. You know why you thought about it? Because you know it belongs to me. You know it exists for my pleasure. You exist for my pleasure. Even this is for my pleasure,” his Master insisted. As a firm hand finally wrapped around his cock, Xander couldn’t find the energy to argue.
“Yes, Master,” Xander hissed, almost sobbing. It was almost impossible to keep still as Spike leisurely massaged the head of his cock.
“Tell me you’re mine,” the vampire ordered, jabbing two fingers inside of him and firmly massaging his prostate.
“I’m yours, Master. I belong to you,” he wheezed, struggling to catch his breath. “Please, Oh God.”
“Please what? Kitten,” the blond demanded angrily. Please let me come. Please stop teasing me. Please… Need it so bad. Spike wasn’t going to allow that though, he was certain.
“Please… It’s too much Master. I don’t want to disobey. I can’t… I can’t … Please… stop…” Xander heard himself begging.
“Come for me right now, Kitten,” his Master commanded. Without thought or hesitation, he did.
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