Pairings: Angel/Wesley, Spike/Xander, Dalton(ofc)/Riley, Fred/Soshie(ofc)<
Summary: It's time to see the clan, and all the different relationships within the clan, from Lindsey's point of view. Unlike Xander and even Riley, Lindsey didn't choose to submit, but as a human inside this court, no one is asking his opinion
Warnings: Sexual slavery; but there's no non-con here; bondage; general dirty-wrong. If you're easily squicked, this isn't the series for you and hasn't been since the beginning.
Lindsey could feel his face get hotter with each person they passed in the hallways of this cavernous building that must have, at one point, been the world's largest warehouse.
"Is it true? Is Groo here?" A girl with long brown hair and an accent right out of Texas bounced up, another woman in her wake. The first woman was Fred, but Lindsey didn't know the second one. Actually, now that he had a closer look, he realized she was at least part demon with ridges along the sides of her face. The demon-woman with long black hair looked at Lindsey with undisguised curiosity, and Lindsey could feel his face get hotter. Fuck it all. What the fuck had he done to deserve getting gagged and tied and dragged around on a leash? Angel could make all the noises he wanted about the good fight, but the fact was that people were just looking out for themselves. That's all Lindsey had done, looked out for himself. He sure as hell hadn't murdered anyone or raped some kid or anything else that would warrant a life sentence.
A trio of faces darted through his memory, but Lindsey pushed that thought aside as he mentally focused on preparing his closing arguments on his own appeal. Ladies and gentleman of the jury, he would start, should a vampire who had killed thousands, tortured hundreds, earned a reputation as one who specifically enjoyed eviscerating nuns—should this vampire really be given control and custody of a man whose only sin is self-preservation? I say no. I say you must free Lindsey McDonald.
Unfortunately, with the gag in his mouth and Angel keeping him on a leash, Lindsey doubted he'd get a chance to make his arguments. The ironic thing was that Lindsey had been considering leaving Wolfram and Hart. The others were wrong about his soul being enslaved because if that were true, he never could have even considered leaving the law firm, and he had been. He'd seen a lot of schemes that had convinced him that maybe they were not a group he could afford to work for.
The girls and Wesley had finished their little mutual cheer session. Yay, Groo was here. Yay, they were in time to save Cordelia. Yay, Lindsey didn't give a rat's ass about any of their ridiculous problems. He pretty much tuned them out until Angel tugged on his leash, and he was forced to follow.
He could hear the noise from the gathered crowd before they turned the corner into a huge hallway that led to a pair of steel double-doors. Lindsey stopped, fear running through his veins as he thought of some of the activities Wolfram and Hart had sponsored. Gladiator fighting, public executions, ritual sacrifice—Lindsey was not interested in being center stage at any of these.
The leash pulled tight, and still Lindsey didn't move. That forced Angel to turn, and the expression on Angel's face did not improve Lindsey's mood at all. The vampire was already yellow eyed. Lindsey knew Angel was supposed to fight at this even they were going to, but he had the sudden fear that he might be the prize. Angel sure wasn't going to trade away his teacher's pet. Oh no, moaning and wiggling Wyndam-Pryce would never get traded away, not as long as he was playing good little fucking whore. Picking out his own slavery spell—Lindsey had to give the man credit for an ability to manipulate; that was right up there with Lilah.
"Don't test my patience," Angel warned. With his free hand, he reached out and caught Lindsey by the back of the neck. Unlike Wyndam-Pryce, Lindsey was not interested in playing good little slave, and he shied away."
"Angel, you need to stay focused," Wesley said, his voice taut. Lindsey glared at the man. Fucking teacher's pet. But this time, Angel didn't turn to his pet right away.
"Lindsey?" Angel cocked his head to the side and then pulled the key for the gag out of his pants pocket. He opened the lock quickly, and Lindsey stretched his lips, hating the way they felt after having plastic pressed against them so long. "What are you so afraid of?" Angel asked. Lindsey stiffened. A couple of vampires were watching from the far end of the hall, Fred and her demon girl were staring, and worst of all, Wesley was there with his English prim and proper.
"Who said I'm afraid? This is me pissed off," Lindsey pointed out.
"I can smell your fear." Angel said it so calmly, but the words made Lindsey want to kick him right in the balls.
"Whatever you're going to do, just fucking do it. Or maybe you really are still the pansy you've always been in the past, some Eurotrash vampire—" Lindsey's words were cut off by Angel grabbing him around the throat hard enough that tears came to his eyes.
"I have told you to be polite. That will be two more hits," Angel said, and again, he had that weirdly calm voice that bothered Lindsey more than all his yelling and ranting. Holland Manners had been like that... nicest right before he served your guts up to some demonic client for lunch. "I have a fight to focus on, and I cannot keep track of your foolishness right now. Either Spike or Dalton will hold your leash, and I can promise you one thing, neither one of them has the patience I do. They just might take permanent action if they find your tongue too offensive. Understood?"
Lindsey gave a small nod, but that seemed to be enough to satisfy Angel. He turned back toward the double doors.
"Perhaps you should gag him," Wesley said softly. Fucking teacher's pet.
"His breathing is erratic. I can't take that risk when I'm not there to monitor him. I doubt either Spike or Dalton would care if he panicked and suffocated."
"That is true," Wesley said thoughtfully. After that, Lindsey tuned them out as they discussed fight strategy and weapons and challenge rituals. It was all entirely too boring to pay attention to. Besides, Lindsey had more interesting things to notice.
Xander Harris was sitting at Master Spike's feet. The man had a reputation as a deadly demon hunter, but right now he was looking up at Spike with wide brown eyes, his hands clasped around Master Spike's leg as he bounced a little in excitement. And unless Lindsey was seeing things, the man had a tail. Considering that Harris was buck naked and giving everyone in the room a nice view of his ass, Lindsey could definitively say it wasn't a costume.
Lindsey really was having a hard time thinking of this big-eyed doe of a man as some stone-cold killer, but most of the demons in L.A. told stories about Harris. He'd trained with the slayer, the great Buffy. She had taken down a hellgod and about half of the demonic population of Sunnydale before she'd been taken down by Master Spike. And now, Master Spike turned his boy, his sex toy, loose to kill demons who trespassed on clan territory. It was quite the humiliation to have a clan member or spawn killed by some lowly human, and Harris had taken out more than his share.
Looking around, Lindsey spotted the other human hunter. There were a number of different stories about this one. Some said he was a rescued human, others that he was a soldier who had challenged Master Spike. He'd lost his challenge, but he'd impressed Master Spike so much that the vampire had claimed Riley as his own and then presented him as a present to his first childe. Yet others claimed he was a friend of Harris from when Harris had been free, someone who had chosen to join Spike's clan after the slayer fell, and humans in Master Spike's court had a limited number of job opportunities. The story didn't matter so much to Lindsey; he was more interested in the man. Riley.
Riley was kneeling beside a woman who Lindsey would have described as plain. She was the sort Lindsey had become adept at charming and then using. However, the way her fingers stroked Riley's hair, it was pretty clear that she was his owner, which meant vampire. Most likely, this was Spike's only childe, Dalton. Riley rested his hands on his knees, his cock caged and on display for everyone who passed, but he didn't seem to even notice. He leaned his shoulder into the woman's knee and watched the room with suspicious eyes that found Lindsey and then stared with a wary warning that made it pretty clear he would be willing to attack... just as soon as his owner gave permission. Lindsey was reminded of a pit bull his older brother owned. That was a human he could see hunting down demons.
The north side of the building was lined with two sets of benches, one higher than the other—like bleachers. The women sprawled over those benches had the same cheek ridges as Fred's friend, and several had elaborate tattoos up the side of their face and neck.
Lindsey had worked for Russell Winters, but as much as that vamp had cared about status, he'd never had the sort of court that was gathered here. He'd taken Lindsey with him once to visit another Master Vampire, one who was more interested in tradition that computers and corporate structure the way Mr. Winters had been, but even that court paled next to this one. There were so many people here. A dozen vampire minions in game face wandered through the shadows. Demons with sagging skin brought trays of food and joked. A blue woman leaned over to whisper in Spike's ear, and the old mage who had so helpfully offered the slavery spell was sitting on a low cushion to Master Spike's left, talking to another of the wrinkle-faced demons.
"I'll get our seats," Fred said, and she darted off toward two benches sitting near Spike's right.
"I should probably join Fred and Soshie," Wesley said, but he didn't move away from Angel's side. Lindsey wondered why Angel was bothering with a slave spell on this one. But Angel just patted Wesley on the arm and nodded, giving him permission, and off Wesley went like a good little puppy.
The thought of puppies brought Lindsey's attention back to Xander, and he watched as the man basically squirmed his way under Spike's arm and into his lap. Lindsey would cut off his own balls before he would do that. And yet, demons whispered Harris' name like a curse. 'Don't get caught on the hellmouth; the Master won't even bother with anyone as small as you. He'll send Harris out to stake you.'
"If I hear one report of bad behavior, you will be sorry," Angel whispered in Lindsey's ear. Lindsey clenched his jaw and struggled against saying any number of bitterly sarcastic comments that wanted out. "Do I need to gag you? I can, but I can't promise that Spike or Dalton would pay you much attention if you got in trouble."
"I'm fine. I don't need to be gagged." Lindsey almost kept the sarcasm out of his voice, but not quite. Angel was still looking at him with a narrow-eyed glare when Riley rose to his feet and padded over, his head carefully bowed and his neck covered in tiny, almost invisible scars.
"Master Angel," he said softly, "Master Dalton has offered to tend your newest slave until you're done." Riley delivered his message and then stood, his hands behind his back and his head down. Lindsey could see the muscle on him. He was an impressive man, and yet he was utterly silent, waiting for Angel's decision. Lindsey rolled his eyes and Angel procrastinated on even this simple choice.
"Tell her that I would like him back unscarred," Angel finally said, holding Lindsey's leash out.
"Yes, Master Angel," Riley agreed, taking it. For one irrational second, Lindsey's brain screamed at him to run. He could probably pull the leash out of Riley's hand. Then he'd only be barefoot, bound, and dressed only in a pair of sweats in the middle of a vampire lair. That was not his best plan.
Riley turned around, and Lindsey's thoughts fled as he saw the mass of scars on the man's back. Holy mother of god. There wasn't an inch that wasn't jagged or slick with scar tissue. Some scars were long lines, like a rod had cut the skin from his back. Others looked like someone had tried to take a bite out of him. If Dalton were sadistic enough to do that to a human she petted tenderly, Lindsey did not care to think what she would do to him. That's why Angel had warned her.
Lindsey suddenly wished he had one solid argument for staying near Angel. Hell, at this point, he'd settle for sitting with teacher's pet Pryce who was whispering with Fred on those benches near Spike. Instead Riley was leading him to Master Dalton who had her own impressive throne near the doors where she could intercept anyone who bothered her sire's court. Lindsey held his breath as they approached her, not sure of the rules, but suddenly very certain that he didn't want to break them.
Riley knelt next to Dalton, and Lindsey awkwardly got to his knees in front of them. Fuck. The floor was hard. He shifted back to put more of his weight on his heels and Dalton's yellow gaze fell on him. Lindsey froze.
"Were you ever so poorly mannered?" she asked, her fingers threading through Riley's hair.
"No, mistress. Or if I was, I can't remember it anymore," Riley answered. "I don't think he's used to kneeling and the floor is hard when you don't have a cushion." Lindsey glanced down and saw a thin pad under Riley's knees.
Dalton tilted her head. "If you were mine, you would kneel there until you learned that your pain is less significant than your need to please me," she said darkly, and Lindsey glanced over his shoulder. Angel was talking to Master Spike, and Lindsey was fairly sure that screaming for help would be considered bad behavior. "You are lucky you aren't mine. Sit if you cannot kneel properly."
Riley tugged at the leash, and Lindsey sat awkwardly. With his arms bound at the wrists and elbows, he had to sit up straight. Lindsey hated having Dalton and Riley to his back, but his other choice was having the rest of the room at his back, so he and he crossed his legs and squirmed to see the room. Angel was still talking to Spike, but now he was looking over at them.
"Wha—" Lindsey gasped as Riley caught him around the chest and easily pulled him back until his bound arms were up against Dalton's chair.
"Good manners, Lindsey. Humans who are dinner try to stay as far from vampires as possible. If you're planning on being something other than dinner, you sit close enough that they can touch or smell you as they like," Riley said in a matter-of-fact voice that Lindsey actually found rather disturbing. He also disliked that Riley tied Lindsey's leash to the arm of the chair with so little slack that Lindsey couldn't even lean away. "After all, they have to invest considerable time and effort to keep us healthy, so the least we can do is provide them a little enjoyment in return."
"I am not sure I would invest the effort in one who smells of such rebellion." Dalton sounded annoyed, and Lindsey pulled against the leash, grimacing when the choke chain tightened. Clearly he was not going to get a choice in this. "I prefer my own taste in humans." Dalton looked at Riley hungrily.
"Yes, mistress," Riley answered calmly. Lindsey wondered how he could be so calm around a woman who clearly enjoyed causing him great pain.
Riley moved to Dalton's other side, only instead of kneeling, he sat at her feet and leaned into her leg, his arm resting in her lap. She ran her fingertips over his arm and then brought a foot up to rest against his thigh.
"You would like it if I put you on your back and rode you."
"Yes, mistress." Riley didn't even blush. Lindsey could feel himself blushing just out of sympathy for the man, but Riley was clearly used to it.
"Considering that this fight will decide what our ally's clan will look like, we cannot leave."
"So, it's Master Angel's fault if you're frustrated."
Riley sighed and shifted, and now Lindsey could see the plastic cage with Riley's cock pressed against it, struggling to harden. That had to hurt, but he didn't comment. He simply laid his cheek against Dalton's knee and watched the room. Dalton continued to stroke Riley's arm with one hand and stroke his hair with the other.
"Will Angel keep this one?"
Lindsey looked up at Dalton, but she was still looking at Riley, petting him like a dog, and he was slowly losing his military stiffness and starting to look a lot like Xander who was sprawled over Spike like a blanket.
"Probably, mistress. Master Angel feels responsible for him."
Lindsey opened his mouth to argue that point, but Riley gave him a withering look that made him close it again. Angel might be a dickless wonder, but Dalton clearly knew how to use torture, and until he could get away, Lindsey intended to avoid that.
"Why would Angel be responsible? Doesn't he belong to Angel's enemies?"
"He did, mistress." Riley paused, and Lindsey was almost biting through his tongue just to keep quiet. He was Lindsey McDonald. He didn't fucking belong to anyone. He was going to tattoo that on someone's forehead. "But I once belonged to a suckhouse, mistress. Will you one day give me back because I once belonged to someone else?"
Lindsey gasped when her hand darted out and grabbed a fistful of Riley's hair. Yanking him to his feet, she pulled him close, her eyes yellow as she wrapped her other hand around Riley's throat. "I don't care who you once belonged to, you are mine and you will stay mine." Several members of the court had turned to look, but instead of trying to defend himself, Riley let his eyes close and his head tilt to the side. "Yes, mistress."
She shifted one hand to his waist and pulled him so close that he grunted before she drove her teeth into his neck. Lindsey was afraid to even breathe, but Riley's one hand traced patterns in Dalton's arm until she finally pulled her teeth out.
Her lips were unnaturally red, and she continued to hold him close. "Mine." The word was almost a growl. Riley put his head down on her shoulder and brought up one of his legs to drape over her knee so that he was almost sitting in her lap. His other leg was still braced against the ground though. It was an odd and awkward position, but they both held it for long seconds. Then Dalton patted Riley's side, and he slid down her body and went back to sitting at her feet.
"Angel had Lindsey. He thought he had put Lindsey somewhere safe, and then he woke up to find that his enemies had reclaimed him."
Dalton shook her head. "He should keep better track of his toys."
"Yes, mistress," Riley agreed. "Especially when his toy wants power as badly as I want the drugs my last owners used to control me. He'll run if he can, and he'll hurt Angel if he can."
"Then Angel should kill him," Dalton offered without any emotion.
Lindsey was starting to feel light-headed from lack of oxygen, but it was difficult to keep breathing when people were discussing life and death issues—your life and death—and they expected you to just stay quiet. Only the sight of Riley's back kept Lindsey from telling all these people exactly what he thought.
"Perhaps you should kill me and get a pet who is not so damaged," Riley said softly. It was an idiotic thing to say to a vampire, but Dalton smiled, her fingers tugging at Riley's hair affectionately.
"I'm too busy to do anything so logical," she said. "Besides, I'm well-known for my illogical preferences."
"Yes, mistress. We are both well known for that." Riley smiled up at her. "And as much as it pains me to admit any similarity with Master Angel, he is just as illogical as the rest of us." Riley put his head back down against her leg and wrapped his arms around one of her legs so that he looked like the mirror image of Xander's position when Lindsey had first come into the room. Right now Xander was draped all over Spike, and Spike was playing with his balls while Xander squirmed, his mouth open and gasping. Either that or he was trying to not scream, Lindsey wasn't sure just what Spike was doing to Xander's testicles, so either was possible.
"If Master Angel is going to choose this one to be illogical with, he had better get more chains. I could teach him some of the training techniques I used on you," she said thoughtfully. "You reacted very well to the whip and tawse."
"Yes, mistress." Riley sounded unbothered, but if training had left the scars on Riley's back, Lindsey definitely needed to keep Angel away from either of these two. On his own, Angel had proven over and over that he couldn't handle humans. He was moral milquetoast unless he had a clear side he was supposed to take. Oh, he could fight demons. He was terrifyingly good in battle, which is what had made him such a draw in the gladiator ring, but humans were his giant Achilles heel, and Lindsey did not need him to pick up any new habits.
Lindsey was learning a lot through the conversation, but when a large man walked in through the double doors with a huge smile on his face, Lindsey lost his best source of information yet. The whole room fell silent, and Riley back stiffened again, like a guard dog bothered by a stranger in his territory. So this was the Groosalugg.
Lindsey half-listened, bored as Spike outlined the rules, which came down to there were no rules, try not to kill any of the spectators. Angel promised the man a place equal to Cordelia as his second-in-command if he lost. Blah blah honor. The Groosalugg promised to make Angel his first lieutenant and honor his subordinates if Angel lost.
Lindsey rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of it all. The Groosalugg had been part of one of the Wolfram and Hart slave worlds, one of those nasty little corners of the universe that employees were sometimes sent to spend the rest of their lives in chains digging onions out of a demon's garden when they failed in their performance assessments. Lindsey had always promised himself that he was too good to ever be sent to the Groosalugg's world, and now the Groosalugg had come to him. The saying about Mohammed and the mountain came to mind.
But he didn't have much time to ponder that because Groo and Angel threw themselves at each other fiercely. The fight raged across the room. At one point, Lindsey was certain that the Groosalugg had won. He'd thrown Angel across the room. Demon women scattered, and Angel crashed through the benches they had been sitting in just moments before. Splintered wood surrounded the vampire, and the Groosalugg leaped in. But somehow Angel twisted away, and picking up a broken board, he slammed it across the Groosalugg's face. The demon warrior stumbled back and the fight was on again.
Each of them went down a half dozen times, and still they fought on. Angel caught the Groosalugg on the back of the knee, and the man fell forward, but this time, Angel was close enough to press his advantage. Grabbing the Groosalugg by the head, Angel forced his neck to bend right before biting deeply. Lindsey sucked in a hard breath. He'd seen Angel fight. He'd watched the man in surveillance video and in the gladiator ring, and Angel never used his teeth to win a fight. Yet, now he was. The Wolfram and Hart psychologists had said that Angel's refusal to feed from his opponents was a psychological 'tell' and a great advantage. Lindsey wondered what they would say if they had the tape of this fight.
The Groosalugg was still moving, but his movements were slow and sluggish now. Angel stood up, and the Groosalugg remained on his knees, clearly beaten. Walking around to the front, Angel offered him a hand, pulling the Groosalugg onto his feet.
"It was a good fight." The Groosalugg was clearly an idiot, congratulating the man who had just forced him into submission. Then again, if Angel were embracing more of his vampire nature, maybe the Groosalugg was just a survivor trying to survive.
"It was," Angel agreed. "I look forward to fighting at your side."
The Groosalugg's smile was wide enough for a toothpaste commercial as he slapped Angel on the arm. "I shall look forward do that day. But this day, I understand the queen needs me."
"Bloody hell, you two will get along right as rain." Spike sounded bored even though he had watched the entire fight sitting on the edge of his seat, his hands twitching with every attack. "So, are you following Angel?" Spike held up a hand to stop the Groosalugg from answering. "And before you say anything, remember this, mate. Angel answers to me. You bend your knee to him, and that means you're mine to call if I get the urge. Got it?"
Groosalugg drew himself up straight and walked to a spot in front of Spike where he dropped to one knee, rested an arm on other knee, and bent his head. He looked like a poster of a knight about to be given a title by his king. "My sword is yours sire, if you ever call on it."
Spike snorted. Lindsey was starting to feel a kinship with Spike because that's pretty much what he thought of the Groosalugg's ridiculous offering. "Just make sure you don't forget it or I'll come to LA and remind you."
"Yes, my lord," Groo answered. Standing up, he backed up several steps. "Can I see Cordelia now?"
"Show him the way, pet."
Lindsey wasn't sure who Spike meant, but Xander got up from his place next to Spike's chair. "Come on, I'll show you," he offered, walking through the room easily, despite the fact he was naked. As they passed near Lindsey, he could see the wiry muscles and grace the made the man such a deadly killer. He could also see the curls that brushed against the back of his thighs as he walked. That was an actual tail. Lindsey felt slightly nauseous.
"So, Angel, any thoughts on how you want to handle your new pet?" Spike turned his head, and Lindsey froze as the attention in the room turned toward him.
"Clearly I have to keep him on a tight leash," Angel said thoughtfully.
"Bloody right. And you don't have time to babysit him. I used the cuckoo spell on that one." Spike poked a thumb toward the mage. Lindsey's shock was reflected in Angel's expression.
"That is a strong spell, Master Angel," the mage agreed amiably. "Master Spike never has to worry about me developing any needs of my own. But then, I'm old enough that if I have a soft bed and a safe home, I'm happy enough."
"And for once, I don't have to worry about a bloody magic user. I was getting soddin' tired of that."
"Yes, Master," the old mage tilted his head in Spike's direction without actually looking all that subservient.
It took Angel a second to answer. "I had planned to use the anglerfish spell."
Spike's eyebrows went up, and Lindsey desperately wished he could see the details on those two spells. Teacher's pet had gotten to study them and even choose the fucking spell, but Lindsey hadn't gotten more than a glance at the pictures.
"Your slave." Spike shrugged, the gesture making it clear he would have chosen differently. Then again, Lindsey was surprised Master Spike hadn't used the damn worm spell on the mage. Maybe that would have damaged the man's magic.
"Slaves," Angel corrected him. "I would like to claim both Wesley and Lindsey."
There was an odd shifting of places among the demon women who were now standing along the edges of the room since their seats had been destroyed in the fight.
Spike, however, looked rather pleased. That was a smirk on his face. "About bloody time, mate."
"Spike," Angel said wearily, the word a warning, but Spike was already waving his hand to dismiss them all.
With a sigh, Angel turned his back and headed for the door. Wesley and Fred hurried after him, but the demon girl Soshie headed for her own people, and they gathered around her in a knot of whispers and odd looks that Lindsey couldn't understand. Angel stopped in front of Lindsey and waited as Dalton untied his leash.
"Did he mind?"
"His body is untrained, but he did not willfully disobey any order," she said, handing the leash to him.
Lindsey wasn't sure if he was relieved or unhappy when Angel took the leash and gave a small tug to force Lindsey to his feet. Spike's mage had gotten up and was following them from a small distance, and Lindsey realized his time was pretty short. He had to come up with a plan, and he needed it now. He opened his mouth to make a bargain with the devil, but before he could say a word, Angel had slipped the gag in place. Lindsey grunted unhappily but there was very little else he could do as Angel buckled the gag in place and then headed out the door. Well fuck. Lindsey would just have to... well, he'd have to figure something out.
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