He got a blanket that night in a much roomier cage and the cartoon network while Spike was gone from the room. Xander couldn’t believe how grateful he felt for such tiny things, but he was. The silence didn’t press down on him anymore and the chill of cool desert nights was held at bay with the blanket… and sitting up while being able to stretch out his legs? Heaven! He wasn’t gibbering mindlessly in his head to fill the void or boiling over with hatred and anger nor were his legs cramped with that dull, constant ache. He felt oddly at peace, gorged on luxuries like a cat with too much cream.
He’d given way, abandoned his insistent disobedience and just gave in and it felt… so… good. He felt safe, and warm, the unspoken threat of another forced feeding no longer hung over him like a suffocating cloud. It came as no surprise to him that he felt just a glimmer of shame, easily squashed down, at emptying his daily rations. He sucked it down and settled back with a contented smile on his lips, ignoring the faint wailing he heard inside at giving in so easily.
If you give in to this, what else will you let him do to you? What else will you think is a small price to pay for comfort and safety? You’re a Scooby! Fight! They’ll come for you, somehow! Or just… just go with the plan. It’s what you wanted, it’s what you decided on! His demons snarled at him, hissing from their dark corners in the recess’ of his mind. He ignored it when it was quiet enough, trying to ignore what it said, the memories it evoked. He balled his fists while covering his ears when he couldn’t, rocking back and forth while he struck his temples now and again, just wanting some quiet, just wanting it to shut up, stuck in his own private Hell.
It was control, the only control he had about his life now and he was going to use it. He could obey and be rewarded (or at least not punished) or fight and end up forced to do it anyways, but likely after loosing some blood and gaining some bruises and scars. The part that unnerved him the most though was Spike’s flippant mention of punishments yet to come for his transgressions. It woke him in a cold sweat from a dead sleep, whispered promises of atonement echoing in his mind while pain drenched torture filled in for unspoken promises of punishment. Spike never spoke of what he was going to do, but Xander’s imagination happily filled in the blanks.
A memory glimmered in a corner of his mind, triggered by the howling words in his head, it shone dimly through his thoughts to get his attention. He grasped at it blindly, trying to remember, to understand the jumble of images. That’s right! I had a plan! A plan that I forgot because who ever uses a plan like that anyways? What was my plan? I found his weakness. I found how to last longer. What was it?
When they’d first heard that Spike was in Sunnydale Giles had pulled all the books with references of the notorious vamp, but kept a few locked in his desk. Xander, being the dutiful student that he was, had of course broken into the Watcher’s desk and read every single line available on the new threat. Okay, fine, not so dutiful a student, more like convinced it was the only way to survive. He had an ulterior motive you see, but not one anyone would have guessed.
He knew the truth, the secret truth they never spoke of or admitted out loud. He knew he was the weakest of the group, knew he had no powers or disciplines to see him through the dangers. He was the meat to dangle on a hook while they waited for hungry hunters to pounce. He knew what his role was likely to be; kidnapped and used as leverage against the Slayer. Possibly tortured and bled, maybe even turned into a vampire. He knew what the future held so he did as much research as he could. He tried to find the weak spot in every new baddie they hunted down, because he knew one of these days, he’d need it.
Spike’s weak spot had been fairly obvious and easy to find, once he’d realized Spike was pretty much the same as any sane Master Vampire. They craved obedience, subservience, submission and above all else power. It was the lynchpin in the vampire design, that which everything else was balanced and developed from and something from which they all suffered, from minion to Master. Xander knew what he’d have to do to survive just a little longer if he was captured by a vampire, just a few days or hours, maybe a week, just long enough to get rescued.
Now? No one was going to rescue him. No one knew where he was, or how he was. No one was left who was strong enough to take down a Master Vampire in his own enchanted home. He was alone in the desert, miles away from any help or succor… and now was the time to decide.
Did he fight for every breath the only way he knew how, by begging and pleading and submitting to the vampire’s deviant urges, allowing him to think… to think he was done fighting or did he fight with tooth and nail and get a swift death? He thought about it, long and hard, while he was locked alone in the cage and cartoons babbled in the background.
No one is coming, no one will rescue me. I should… I should just let him kill me. What am I fighting to stay alive for anyways? So I can stay here and… what? Win his trust, whack him over the head with something heavy and make a run for it? Again? It didn’t work that well the few times I tried it and anyways, run where? There’s no where to go, no one around for miles and I’ll probably die from the desert heat before I get anywhere!
I could… I could just give up. He thought it with eyes clenched, tears bottled forcibly inside. That’s what they expect of me, isn’t it? Giving up? I could just do… nothing. Stop fighting, stop talking, stop everything until he… tires of me. Or I could fight and scream and kick, possibly swear and/or bite… and then he’d just make me do whatever it was anyways. Right! That doesn’t sound like the best idea, now does it?
The plan he had labored so hard to create was two tiered, because he knew there were two different possibilities; either he would be the last one left or the first one taken. The latter one was the one that required the most research because he wanted to live and be rescued, who wouldn’t? The former was the easy one, he’d rather be dead than kept by some creepy demon as a prize of war or whatever it was he’d be kept for. Of course he’d rather be dead than that! The latter was the one he had to work to find and rather than raise eyebrows, he always did it in secret, why worry his friends?
So… now he had to decide. Play along because it’s gonna happen anyways and Spike sure as heck wasn’t about to kill in a fit of anger any time soon, fight tooth and nail against everything and still be forced and probably earn quite a few punishments along the way or just totally give up and just don’t… do anything.
He was so busy examining the pro’s and cons of the various ploys and plans that when the thought occurred it stunned him how quickly everything else faded away. I don’t want to die.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes, a twinge of self disgust flaring inside him that was quickly doused when the tension fled his shoulders. There goes that plan. See? I always said I never learned anything by studying that I’d ever use in the real world. Algebra, biology, cursive writing, suicidal plans, none of it’s relevant anymore. What a waste of comic book reading time!
The sound of the cage door rattling open roused Xander from his light doze with a start, “I’m awake!” he blurted out blearily, rubbing his eyes with rough knuckles. He blanched when he realized just who he was talking to. Don’t pester the psycho-vamp.
Spike snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor in front of his feet and Xander got the hint quickly, hesitating for only a second before he crawled out of his comforting cage to kneel at Spike’s feet. He felt exposed, kneeling outside his padded cage in nothing but his collar. He fought to control his shuddering fear and held onto his control with a fingernail’s grip.
I don’t want to die.
The vampire quickly bound a padded leather blindfold around Xander’s head, locking it securely with straps to the human’s collar and over the top of his head. Darkness pressed down on Xander for a few panicked breaths before an eerie calmness seemed to take over. In the dark he didn’t know what was coming, where he was going or what was about to happen… but it comforted him and oddly eased down his tension. He heard Spike chuckle above him, murmuring how his scent gave him away, he couldn’t help but blush in response.
“Knew you had kinks boy, but now’s not the time to indulge you.”
He felt a lead clip to his collar and a gentle tug.
Xander felt himself bristle, a flare of defiance that was quickly smothered by five small words, I don’t want to die.
He followed without complaint, Spike led him without comment.
Xander’s padded cuffs were clipped effortlessly to steel rings embedded into the vertical smooth wooden cross, a small square of padding at his groin the only comfort offered him. His legs were splayed just past shoulder width, securely fastened to the wooden X frame he was bound to. Spike trailed a single icy finger down the boy’s spine to the leather strap encircling his waist. It cut into his skin, irritating and cruel, yet still Xander was silent if trembling.
Spike idly caressed a shivering flank, stroking the warm human skin almost reverently, “You know what’s comin’, don’t you pet?” He watched the tremors increase, a nearly discernable nod of the head.
Spike tsked, “And yet other things you learn so well.” Cool cruel fingers dug into Xander’s hair, wrenching his head back and to the side at a deliberately uncomfortable angle that bared his scarred throat. “What had we discussed ‘bout your twitchin’ and mumblin’ about? Clear words puppy, while you’re still able to make ‘em anyways.”
Xander let out a pained gasp when Spike tightened his hold before blurting out, “I know Sir, please…” don’t kill me. The last was unspoken yet Spike heard it loud and clear. It was screamed in every line, every arch, every gasp and whimper. The boy had come to a decision during his seclusion and it was a good one… it made Spike’s job just that much easier.
“Shhh… shouldn’t beg before it starts. You still don’t know how bad it’s gonna get… though you know it won’t be easy by any means,” Spike leant over and nuzzled the heated flesh behind the boy’s ear, breathing deeply against the warm skin. Xander shuddered and tried to curl away ineffectually from Spike’s sure and immovable grip.
“Yes Sir,” came the breathy reply, voice hollow in pain and fear.
Spike felt the human continue to tremble under his hands but he no longer struggled against his grasp. He felt almost pliant, gulping little panicked breaths as quietly as possible but still responsive and deliciously obedient. I wonder how much longer till he tries to escape again, Spike mused internally. He is rather adorable when that flicker of hope kindles in his eyes and delightfully devastated when it’s crushed. I can’t see all the fight being knocked outta him so easily, he’ll try again… White Hat’s always do.
He couldn’t help the surge of glee and lust that flooded through him at the thought of the boys next transgression, filling his cock in the tight confines of his jeans with a pulsing bounty of stolen blood. It made him itch, made him want to curl his death chilled body against the living heat of his new prize, thrusting deeper and deeper into hot yielding flesh. He growled low in his throat, snarling softly into his pet’s ear with pure possessive lust.
“So… what’s comin’ pet?” Spike purred gently, echo’s of the possessive growl thrumming through each word. He rubbed his rough denim covered bulge against smooth and sensitive flesh. “C’mon puppy… speak. Speak boy,” he urged, murmuring in the boy’s ear. He heard him swallow, the faint squeak as he forced breath past constricted vocal cords, “There’s a good boy, speak.”
“You’re going to r-rape me again,” Xander whispered, trembling and taught like a drawn bow pulled tight. Spike breathed deep of the scents pouring from the boy and easily caught the thread of seductive longing hidden beneath a swath of fear and shame. So far the strong negative emotions were keeping his cock soft and supple, You won’t last pet… stop fighting against me. He nibbled almost daintily on the lightly sweating earlobe just at his lips. It’s gonna feel so good when you give in boy… gonna taste you then. Taste every flavor of every emotion flowing through your veins and make you scream my name.
“Is that what you want pup? Want me inside you, filling you till you think you’ll be ripped in half?” His voice teased and taunted, cool breath dancing along sensitive skin. “Want my cool hands caressin’ an’ strokin’ your heated flesh while I take what’s mine over an’ over an’ over again. While I hold you down an’ make you beg?” He heard the soft gulps of breath and saw the beads of sweat pop out over his skin to give it a glimmering sheen. The boy smelled of want and shame, a delectable cocktail that couldn’t fight a teenage boy’s libido.
I don’t want to die, Xander thought in his silence, fighting to draw breath at the awkward angle Spike still held his head. Who would want to live as a demon’s prize of war? I guess I would. I don’t want to die. He felt the tears building behind his blindfold, wetting his cheeks when they didn’t stop spilling forth.
He’d always thought he’d kill himself eventually, that some day his life would just get that unlivable and he’d just end it, and then Buffy showed up and made him actually enjoy living. He had a reason, a purpose, and suddenly he felt his life had meaning and all thoughts of possible suicides were pushed from his head. But now, he’d killed Buffy. He’d lied to her and hadn’t even stood by her side when she fought the most important battle of her life. He’d let her down and now look at him! Once more on the precipice at the maw of darkness hungering to devour him and once more he hung his head in shame, unable to take that final step into his only escape. Fear and uncertainty bound him more tightly then misery and self loathing, keeping him alive when he’d rather be dead.
I don’t want to die… He felt his cock ache and twitch between his legs, hanging like heavy fruit, just ripe for the plucking. He felt ashamed at his body’s responses, sickened as his body shared the secrets of lonely nights spent fantasizing about whips and chains, dancing to a crop’s beat that was struck onto his hide at a staccato beat. He couldn’t deny his urges and longing when his body betrayed him so visibly, and that burned him with shame like nothing else before.
This isn’t what I wanted! Not then! Not really! Why was anyone listening to me then when no one listened to me ever before? The punishing grip in his hair was finally released, a dark chuckle trickled from pale lips to echo in his head. I wanted to be punished, and now I am. I wanted someone to take control so I didn’t have to fake my way through it anymore, and now I dont. Why the hell did the powers that be listen and grant those damned wishes but not the nice ones? The good ones? Like when I begged my parents day and night for that puppy or or or when I wished I could understand my goddamned homework so people would stop calling me stupid and slow, retarded, a reject. Oh no, of course not. That would make life fair. Instead the only things I get that I asked for are always things I could never share with anyone else! Things I wanted, but not things I wanted, not like this! Not really! I wanted the fantasy, not this! I swear I didn’t want this!
Spike listened to the stifled sobs with a smirk on his face. Even though the boy wept pretty tears the scent of pure want was growing stronger and stronger in the room. Can’t lie to me, precious. But I can’t start a bad precedent, need you trained the right way. Not gonna sway me with your pretty scent, nor your lovely sounds. We’ll get to that soon enough.
He pulled away from the scintillating heat, biting back his own groan of frustration and saw Xander twitch uncertainly. Things were not progressing as the young pup had anticipated. “A wise man once said, ‘How can you have any pudding if you don’t eat your meat?’ S‘what our relationship is all about pet. You do good by me, you’ll get rewarded. You’ll get treats an’ luxuries, maybe even a bit o’ romp time out of your cage if you behave.”
He walked back to the velvet strewn table against the far wall as he talked. He traced his slim fingers over the air of each implement bare and displayed in the pulled out drawers, hanging on the wall and on the table itself. His princess had opened every single drawer and opened every single cabinet built into the wall. He was being given carte blanche for tonight, for every night. She was letting him know she would hold none of this against him and for a surprised moment he felt an unknown pressure around his undead heart ease.
He hadn’t realized how stressed he’d been about what his dark plum would think, would feel. She was often fickle and he was afraid she’d forget that she was the one who had given it to him to use and enjoy. He loved her dearly but her lucid moments were often times hard to discern from her not so lucid ones. She could have sent him and helped with the claiming and everything in a dream like state that she’d forget upon ‘waking’. She’d done it often enough before with broken dolls that she asked him to throw out or telling him she was done with her meal and he could finish it off and so many others… But never before had she slept through anything intimate with him.
She said his touch grounded her, brought her home safe and sound. That’s why she shied from his touch when she was having one of her spells, she wanted to see those through to the end so they’d get the message loud and clear; they were often such important messages. She also said she’d be able to tell if he touched anyone else to sate his needs and she’d likely end up having to castrate him with a thorned vine after using his intestines as a tourniquet. His princess did have her jealous moments, but this gesture showed she was not only permitting him, but also encouraging him.
“That also means you won’t get any of your privileges or perks until after your punishment… so you don’t have to worry about that right now.” He ran his fingers over coiled and elegantly braided well oiled leather with a tender caress, thoughtful. He barely caught the softly uttered question.
“What?” The human stirred, lifting his head from the forward slump it had fallen into, startled and confused.
“I’ll never use sex as a punishment pet. An’ it’ll only happen after your punishments have been tallied an’ paid in full.” He picked it up, gently uncoiling its four foot length with a casual flip of the wrist. He loved the solid weight of it in his palm, the feel of the use-smoothed leather in his hand. It felt comfortable there, welcome and… right. He loved how it made his princess arch and scream, shedding such pretty crimson drops when the cracker slit and occasionally stripped small sections of skin from her body. This weapon could inflict severe damage or exquisite pain, he was well versed enough at algolagna * to be able to inflict both on his targets with ease of familiarity.
The tangy flare of fear pushed against the arousal, then seemed to give meld into a heady harmony with an added piquant of shame. Boy wants to be punished, does he? Knew I hadn’t read him wrong. He closed his eyes and flipped the button fly of his pants open one handed. He tilted his head back, images of the depravities he would inflict on the boy, and have him beg for dancing behind his eyelids making him groan when he shifted his aching cock in the tight confines of his jeans. Gonna make him beg so pretty. He’s gonna be such a good puppy…
Spike watched as panic locked muscles marginally relaxed while the scent of confusion tainted the air, destroying the heady bouquet he was building with such careful deliberation, and now it was ruined. All that hard work for the perfect tantalizing and exquisite scent and it was ruined, the bitter dollop of confusion ruining the careful balance he’d worked so hard on.
“You-you mean you won’t… you won’t r-r…”
So that’s what this is about… bloody virgins. I keep forgetting they haven’t had it good yet. “No pet,” he chuckled, twitching the long leather instrument in his hand. He felt the heavy shot filled bag sealed within the braids take the tiny motion and magnify the intensity down to the braided cracker attached to the tip. “What I mean is I won’t use sex as punishment,” he cracked the whip over Xander’s head, making the human yelp and struggle to jump away. “And you won’t get any sex ‘til the punishment’s over with.” He cracked the whip down near the boy’s left hip, air popping near enough to rustle the fine hairs on Xander’s skin and made him jump and struggle anew, fruitlessly of course.
“I think I’d prefer to wait a little longer!” yelped Xander, drawing in quick ragged breaths through trembling lips.
The stench of confusion was finally gone and that heady bouquet was back. Spike drew it in appreciatively, drawing it gently over his palate to savor the many nuances while a delighted shiver danced down his spine. “But I don’t. I want to fuck you puppy. I want to fuck you so deep, so hard you’ll taste my cum at the back of your throat when I finally fill you with it. But I can’t ‘til you’ve been properly chastened. Wouldn’t do to make you think you were back in favor when you really weren’t. Much better to get it out of the way, don’t you think?”
“N-no… please… I’m sorry. You don’t… please, you don’t have to… I know what I did wrong, I won’t do it again, you don’t have to…” The babbling tapered off when the boy started sobbing softly. The saline only added to the scents already pulling at him, making it that much more exquisite.
“But I do pet, you know I do. How ‘bout you tell me just what it is you think you’ve done wrong,” Spike draped the length of the whip down Xander’s back, balancing it with the weighted end tossed over the human’s shoulder. Xander flinched at the sudden impact then began trembling anew.
“You heard me pet. Repetition is not one of my favored pastimes,” Spike warned him.
“I… wait, please… I… I… I hit you, and and tried to run away,” Xander finally managed, remembering the mad dash through empty halls.
“Yeah pet, you did. And then?” Spike prodded him further, sliding his cool hands over the warm, unmarred back of his pet. Won’t be so perfect for much longer, now will it, he mused as muscles jumped and twitched beneath his hands.
“I… I fought you about… about my-my-my feeding. Please, I’m sorry. I got better! I-I don’t fight anymore, do I? Please, I’m sorry!” Xander pleaded between sobbing breaths.
“And?” Spike prompted, growing impatient.
“And? And… and I … I lied!” he almost screamed, suddenly remembering his transgression, words edge with panic. “I lied when I said I was gonna submit and let you… let you… but you knew I’d fight you!” His tone changed to one of belligerent terror, high pitched and forced into a squeak out through stressed vocal cords. He gulped in another breath before continuing in a slightly calmer tone of voice. Not much calmer, just less likely to make dogs howl in pain. “Didn’t you? You knew I’d never let you…-”
Spike cleared his throat impatiently, Xander got the message clearly, “It doesn’t matter, I’m sorry!” he corrected himself, gulping down panicked sobs, “I was wrong! I should have… should have told you the truth! But I will from now, I promise! I promise I won’t lie again!”
“And how’m I supposed to know you’re not lyin’ now? No pet, gotta make it so you actually regret what you did, you still think you have reasons an’ excuses… those don’t exist here. You’re mine pup. You’re mine and your excuses don’t matter. I will do with you as I please an’ your only expectations will forever be to please an’ tend to me. You take care of my needs, obey my every word, behave as a proper well trained pet. Then you will be rewarded, given freedoms… but if you fight me… well…”
Spike reached to Xander’s shoulder and removed the slinky slither of leather. He took three measured steps away from his pet and turned. In one smooth movement he unfurled the whip, keen eyes catching most of the flight of the leather until it got close to the speed of sound, the cracker making an explosive pop in the air when the barrier was finally breached. It cut Xander, slicing into his skin and tainting the hand woven spiral cracker with crimson flecks and made the boy explode into a panicked yelp that was quickly lost behind a pain locked throat.
“Called a pocket snake whip ** it can be quite deliciously painful. Now, your punishments won’t always be a whippin’, they’ll often be tailored to fit the crime, but I think this is a good introduction to your new roll… Don’t you think?” Spike struck out again, unfurling it almost carelessly over his head before the cracker once more sliced a neat short groove in Xander’s skin. This time Xander screamed until he sobbed, hanging against his chains.
“No-no pet, that won’t do. You gotta count each strike an’ thank me for it. Gotta make sure you’re getting the message! Loose count, I’ll start over at one, miss one an’ I’ll start over at one. Got it pup? Gotta hear you say it, I’ll keep going ‘til I do.” Spike listened to Xander’s heart hammering hard and heavy in his chest while his cock never once softened, if anything it seemed to throb harder, growing more and more purple. Wanted this too, did he? Kinky little bugger, knew we’d have fun together. This time it’ll hurt… next time I’ll see about changing that.
Xander gulped in another breath, using it to push the words past his lips, “One… th-thank you.” Spike hissed a warning and Xander quickly added “Sir!”
“There’s my boy, know what’s good for you, don’t you? Master knows best.” And then it started.
The blows fell like well placed rain, never crossing over a previous welt or cut, constantly falling on fresh skin. Xander was screaming and sobbing in turn, the proscribed words spilling from him in between. They erupted in screams, sometimes whimpers, filling the room with a cacophony of sound that echoed and filled the room. He gasped and begged sometimes, often times he just obeyed.
Spike reveled in it, drawing the blubbering moans and gasping screams from such a pliant and trapped prey. The scent of blood was cloying, heady, adding it’s own tang to the perfume of the evening’s activities. It stirred the beast within him, making it yelp and tug impatiently at the strong iron chains Spike kept it locked up with in his mind. It wanted. It wanted the human broken and bleeding at his feet, ripping and raped and covered in bruises; but Spike kept it carefully under control, never once letting it slip.
Spike threw the whip over and over and over again, stopping barely long enough for Xander to gasp out the appropriate number. The boy had learned early that if he wasn’t fast enough Spike would just go on and the count would go back to zero. Eventually Spike ran out of canvass space on his pet’s pack and moved to whip his buttocks and the backs of his thighs.
Tears flowed freely through the soaked blindfold, keeping his cheeks damp and his nose running, making Xander thank his lucky stars he wasn’t gagged tonight. An absurd part of his brain nattered at him that it was only because he didn’t get the privilege taken away… that it was good of him to have made his decision when he had. The rest of him just pleaded for it to be over, promising fervently that he’d learned his lesson.
His voice cracked and ground down to a whisper, but still Xander grunted out the count, thanking his Master dutifully for each blow. He hadn’t faltered once but he’d come close to hesitating too long a few times when his throat was too constricted to let him scream much less speak coherently.
It hurt, everywhere hurt, and no matter what he promised or how he begged, Spike didn’t hesitate or slow down. Now and again he’d walk up behind him and lave the seeping wounds until they stopped bleeding. Xander couldn’t tell if he was supposed to hate or enjoy those moments, but he could tell Spike enjoyed them. The vampire moaned and purred, licking and wiggling his tongue against sensitive and heated flesh, soothing the worst abrasions with his cool and agile tongue.
Spike murmured into his skin, words of praise or perversion spilling from cool lips and well trained tongue, but Xander couldn’t understand them. He was locked in a world full of pain and he couldn’t find his way back. The bread crumbs had been eaten by the forest animals and the reflective stones needed moonlight to show the way and he had neither in his head.
He didn’t understand it was over, he didn’t understand the whip had been put away after being pressed to his lips to kiss or the words of thanks he was urged to say. He still tasted his own blood in his mouth, from the cracker on the whip, from when he bit his tongue or inside his cheeks. He had a bit of a bloody nose from when he’d thrashed about after a particularly painful lash and connected his face with one of the wooden beams that his arms were secured to. It coated his tongue and made his stomach roil.
He didn’t realize he was sobbing openly, begging and pleading, promising he’d be good, promising he’d never do it again. He didn’t realize his ankles and wrists had been unlocked from the cross or that his weight was supported by cool, well muscled flesh. He didn’t feel himself being carried away, cradled tenderly in the vampire’s arms like a lover.
The only thing he DID notice was how cold he was. He couldn’t stop shivering, his lanky frame constantly shuddered and shook, a deep chill taking over his every thought and feeling. He wondered if he’d ever feel warm again.
**pocket snake whip
He finally woke up when he was no longer so bone cold. Well, okay, not “wake-up” so much as snap out of that trance thing he’d fallen into some time ago. The warm water lapped at his chin, chasing away the chills and easing away some aches and pains. He opened bleary eyes and saw he was almost completely submerged in pink tinged water while Spike gently sponged blood, tears and filth from his skin.
He started, trying to get away before slipping past consciousness again, slithering down a warm velvety cavern away from the world, the faint plink of water striking water his journey music echoing in the cavern of his unconscious mind.
He still hurt.
Every joint screamed in protest as he wiggled slightly to ease the ache in his hip and settled once more into lush silk sheets over a well padded mattress. He snuggled under the thick comforter, relishing the comfort and warmth he felt. Wait… what? Silk sheets? And I’m all stretched out… He tried to reach out to find the bars he knew would be there but muscles and bruises screamed no to even the smallest movement. Okay… guess I have to open my eyes.
It took another minute to convince his eyelids to separate, they were stubbornly heavy and gummed together with tear filled sleep. He sighed to himself and tried again, managing to peer out of his right eye, just between the lashes. All he saw was something white, either really close or really big.
Okay… maybe I’m facing the wall now? But none of the walls in his room are white. Maybe this is another part of my punishment? I’m what, sent to my room to ‘think over’ what I’d done wrong? He groaned softly, knowing he’d drive himself nuts freaking out over what it could possibly mean to his new status before he’d try to open his eyes again and he really didn’t have the energy the freak out just now.
Fuck it. He opened his eyes with a mighty sigh of whimpered anticipation and managed to part them enough to peer out. For the life of him, he couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. It was white, true, but not as perfectly white as he first thought. It had texture to it, and it wasn’t white-white like… well… white, it was white that was kinda pinky browny too, like… well, it looked like skin actually. Really really pale sun starved skin very very up close and personal. Like, so up close and personal he could feel his breath pushed back to his face, and wow was it stinky.
When was the last time I brushed my teeth anyways? Ewwwwwwwww. He ran his tongue over furry teeth and grimaced. I wonder if he knows about dental health and tooth brushes? Because unless he’s gung-ho about gummers he’d better learn quick. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeew…. Gummers, he smacked his lips in distaste.
He sighed in self disgust, wondering how a sensitive vampire nose could put up with his stinky human bits. Maybe if I’m stinky enough he’ll just… what? Toss me outside until I air out? I’d melt into a puddle of goo during the day and freeze into a Xander-sicle over night. Yeah… Maybe I should mention the stinky bits are easy to clean and the whole baby-bathwater analogy. Yeah… I think he should know this isn’t permanent… I really don’t want to be whipped for hours on end because he doesn’t know about tartar fighting cavity reducing toothpaste. He sighed again, eyes barely open and unfocused on the span of whiteness in front of him.
It took him a few minutes to realize there was an odd sort of motion coming from the white expanse. It took him even longer to pinpoint just what was going on. Every time he exhaled something… moved on the surface of the skin. It was like a soft… wave? What? He blinked his eyes, then stretched them wide trying to force them to focus. Of course they did, and then he finally clued into where he actually was.
I’m in his BED?? HIS BED? With him right THERE? Over there, almost touching me! Or wait, is he touching me? He clenched his eyes shut and tried to sort through all the various aches and pains over every inch of his back and buttocks, even down his thighs. His shoulders and arms ached from where he’d nearly wrenched them out of socket with his struggling, same with his thighs and calves. His nose was mercifully free of dried blood and his mouth bites were all healed. Actually… you know as bad as all that was, it could have been worse. I remember blood in my mouth, and it was a heavy metallic smell in the air but all I feel are bruises and sprains and strains. I’m not cut, not anymore… what happened?
He tried to remember last night more clearly, but was surprised he could barely dredge up any memories of the actual punishment. It was faded, hard to grasp and slippery when he finally pulled up images or sensations. He knew it hurt, knew he’d begged for it to be over but he couldn’t remember how badly it hurt, not really. He remembered lines of fire, burning explosions that sizzled from each blow. The heat spreading, filling his skin and surging out long after the blow had landed in searing pulsing pain. He remembered the waves of pain, how they’d swell and crest then swell and crest again and again from a single blow, and how Spike had kept it timed perfectly so the surges never stopped. They just rode over him again and again, a steady pulsing wave of pain that almost lulled him into a trancelike state.
What was that? What did he do to me? But the more he struggled the fainter things became. The only parts that remained indelibly in place were agony, crying, and shame. He remembered the shame, and stubbornly denied the arousal part of last nights activities. Well, considering these bruises will take at least a week and a half to fade, he winced when his subtle shift away from Spike made him dig into another bruise. Okay, two weeks… ow… I’ll be remembering this lesson even if I don’t remember the actual punishment.
He winced, the ache in his left shoulder suddenly turned into a sharp stabbing pain before abating again. You know, if I was getting the shit beat outta me so he’d kill me, I think I could put up with this. It’s not that much worse than… worse than what I’ve had before. But with the whole ‘Don’t Want To Die’ decision thing? Yeah, this pain so isn’t worth a few seconds of ‘Ha ha, I whacked the vampire!’ joy right before walking into the invisible fence and getting another whipping when I finally wake up.
He groaned softly, and once more saw the hairs gently wave in front of him, extremely pale fronds dancing a choreographed display and then he remembered again, SPIKE!!! IN BED WITH SPIKE! And then he remembered the question of just how close the vampire could possibly be that he’d been previously about to answer.
Oh gawd… He clenched his eyes shut and concentrated outside the aches and pains, and found one slim and oddly warm arm wrapped around his waist from underneath. It held him securely on his side so he didn’t fall over onto his bruised back but the grip was gentle enough that it didn’t aggravate the bruises it touched. And now I’m even more confused, what?
Nothing was making sense. He’d been whipped until he’d bled and cried and screamed and begged all in the name of punishment, but he was held almost carefully in Spike’s arm so he didn’t fall onto his bruised back and the bleeding wounds were all gone. Besides that, he was no longer in the cage and was instead in a plush silk strewn bed beneath a thick, rich coverlet that made him feel very comfortably warm. What the hell kind of punishment is this?
He felt Spike shift beside him and held perfectly still, unsure what was about to happen. “Know you’re awake puppy,” he heard Spike murmur. “No need to pretend.” He felt fingers combing his short hair, tracing the curve of his neck, cheek and ear with such gentle caresses it made his hair stand gently on end, his stomach knot in apprehension just waiting for the fingers to turn cruel and careless.
“Wh-what’s going on?” He hated how his voice trembled in fear, almost warbling in distress. He already knows I’m scared shitless, doesn’t matter if he hears it too! He tried to convince himself, he wasn’t sure how well it worked.
“It’s my job to make sure you’re healthy an’ cared for, it’s what a Master does for his pet.” Fingers slid through his hair again, strangely soothing some tension out of him. Feels like I’m being petted… He felt his eye lids slowly start to drift close, weariness taking over in a gentle numbing wave.
“Told you, can’t have any pudding till you’ve eaten your meat. Punishment’s over, now’s the time for pudding.” The fingers kept their soothing rhythm, carding through his hair gently, so gently. Why’s he so obsessed with pudding and meat? So wait… what?
“What?” he heard himself mumble almost incoherently into the mattress. The fingers paused for a second before continuing once more.
“Punishment’s over, you’ve been forgiven. It’s over.”
He struggled to make sense of it, but couldn’t. His brain felt all mushy and addled. “I’m not… trying to make you repeat yourself. Just dunno what you’re saying.” He managed to mumble out. Hey! That even made sense! Go me!
Spike was silent for a moment, but the fingers never stopped so Xander wasn’t afraid he’d pushed too far. “Means it’s over… I won’t hold any of it against you ever again. Once the punishment is over it’s all over. You have a clean slate pet. Means I get to start taking care of you again. Means I get to chain you to my bed to warm my sheets at night, let you go to the toilette and use the shower like a human instead of a caged beast. Means as long as I’m in this room you’ll have an ankle leash on an’ when I’m out you’ll be caged. We’ll work through your new responsibilities soon enough.”
Again those soothing digits worked their wonder, lulling him into that odd sense of security and safety once more. It took him a minute to understand what he’d just been told and the only one he had any comment for was, “Wait, I can use a toilette? Please, can I go pee? There? I promise to come right back!”
Spike swung out of bed, Xander felt the mattress shift and jump at the sudden loss of weight, the arm beneath him gently retracted. Spike walked over to Xander’s side of the bed on silent and quick feet. He heard a clink and a sound like pouring a chain onto silk sheets before getting scooped into cool and careful arms with gentle tenderness before he had a chance to try to move on his own. If Xander were to guess, it really felt like Spike had had practice with this before. He tried really hard not to think about other human’s the vampire could have chained and abused over his lengthy life time, but it was the only reason he could think of for this much familiarity to caring for a bruised and weak invalid.
He didn’t protest when Spike carried him into the sumptuous ensuite bathroom, he didn’t even quibble when Spike made a warning noise when Xander made to slide to his feet. “Trust me puppy, you won’t be able to do any walking on your own for a little while yet,” Spike murmured into his hair before gently lowering him onto the raised and padded seat of the toilet.
Xander grunted, feeling the bruises on every inch of his back and thighs scream in protest to putting his weight on them like this. Tears escaped clenched eyelids, the pain drew them forth along with whimpers of distress. He finally opened them when he could stand it and did a double take when he realized Spike was still in the bathroom.
“I can take a piss by myself!” he snapped peevishly. Spike raised a single eyebrow in response, looking at him with a look of dangerous warning. Xander wasn’t as stupid as his teachers and classmates thought, “I mean…. I mean thank you Sir, but I can… I can do this myself.”
“And that matters how? Punishment may be over, but I don’t trust you pet. Plus, need to check your piss for blood. So be a good boy, and do your tinkle in the bowl,” he waved dismissively and leaned back against the door jamb, pure blue eyes never wavering from Xander. When Xander just huddled and glared Spike let out an exasperated sigh, “Either you piss on your own or I draw it from you. You’ve got no choice pet, go!”
Xander blushed and looked away, hugging himself as he shivered, drawing his feet up so only his toes touched the cold tile. The bedroom might be toasty, but the bathroom is like a FRIDGE! Yeesh! “I can’t… I can’t…” He chewed his lower lip, trying to get the words out, “When someone is watching, I can’t just… I’ve got a shy bladder, okay?” He blurted out.
“Guess it’s gonna have to learn to perform in the spotlight, then don’t it?” Was the calm reply.
“I also happen to STAND when I piss! I’ve never sat down before!” Xander muttered angrily, still unable to lift his gaze.
“Right then,” and suddenly Spike was moving away from the wall. Moving away from the wall and towards Xander and by the time he realized he was no longer on the wall the vampire was standing tall proud and nakedly close to him.
He let out a panicked squeak, sure he’d pushed things way too far but Spike just leant over and looped his arm around Xander’s waist, pulling him effortlessly and with minimum discomfort, to his feet. A quick twist and he was facing the toilet, teetering on sore legs, startled to realize if Spike let go he’d go crashing to the floor. Guess he wasn’t lying about that… When Spike reached a single chilled hand towards his groin Xander tried to wiggle his pelvis away, “I can hold myself myself! I’ve been doing it since I got outta diapers, honest! In fact I’m pretty sure I’ve held it before I got out of diapers because I was a curious lad who really wanted to know what the dangly things were.”
The single word stilled him, made him bottle up the nervous babbles that kept bubbling in the pit of his stomach, anxious to pour out. He held still, feeling Spike’s naked body pressed almost intimately against his own, gripping his flaccid cock which was trying it’s damndest to do a turtle impersonation from the cold and fear.
“Last chance pet, either tinkle in the bowl an’ do your human business or I tie you down and put a catheter up there to drain it.” Xander had not a single moment of doubt that Spike would do just as promised.
His bladder screamed one last time to void itself before he finally let it. He blushed a bright red, turning his face away from the bowl while Spike aimed the flow of his urine into it. It went on for a lot longer then he felt comfortable with but when it was done, he DID feel immensely better.
It was four days before he was allowed to walk on his own to the bathroom, and then it was grudging at best. Spike still held his cock while he relieved himself though, even though he tried to point out he was perfectly capable of taking a piss without the training wheels.
“Don’t think you get it pet… this?” Icy fingers tightened their grip on his limp uninterested cock. Xander fought to keep it uninterested or he’d never be able to relieve himself, and blushed at the need to have to fight against the urge. More and more he was loosing control of his body around his captor. From how and when he was fed to how and where he slept to even his timed and carefully orchestrated bathroom habits; he was stripped almost completely from any control of his life.
He forced himself to listen as Spike went on, “This is mine. You don’t get to touch what’s mine without my permission. If I see you touching it without permission I’ll chain your wrists to your collar for a week, got it pup?” He shook the cock in his tightened fist, making Xander bite back an appreciative moan.
I AM NOT AROUSED BY THIS! Goddammit! This isn’t… this isn’t… this isn’t what I wanted! “Yes Sir,” he whispered instead. It doesn’t make me hot, it doesn’t turn me on, having someone else in control of my every bodily function is not erotic dammit!
He had one arm wrapped around the boy’s waist, his front securely tucked into the boys back. He leaned his face into the smooth curve of warm neck, breathing in deeply. The pheromones were impossible to mistake, Our little puppy does like to be humiliated it seems. Good to know, he chortled to himself. He felt the cock twitch timidly in his grasp, he could tell his boy was trying to fight it but it wouldn’t be long. He was a healthy teenage boy, of course he’d have a hard time keeping things down.
Once his pet was done, Spike shook the boy’s cock three times then spun him so he sat on the commode. He saw the boy start to twitch his hands to hug himself, and he hissed a warning. They’d been over this, it wasn’t that hard to learn! Xander jumped and put his hands on his knees quickly, remembering with a start what he’d been instructed to do.
The brunet lowered his head, remembering everything he’d ever read about submission to a vampire and tilted his head gently to the side, baring his scarred throat, “Please Sir, I’m sorry, I forgot. I’m trying to remember. I meant no disrespect.” He kept his voice and eyes low, submission and acceptance in every line. Please, I’m sorry, I really am learning! Please!
“Just do your business puppy. We haven’t got all night,” Spike waved him on, leaning back against the built in shower cubical by the door. It was his favored perch while he waited for Xander to vacate his bowels. The slurry made for consistently soft stool that was easily timed, so Spike knew exactly how much longer he had to wait.
He stood poised to correct any lapse of form, to swoop in and save his pet should the strain prove too much and he fainted again. True, that’d only happened once, but he wasn’t about to assume it would never happen again. The punishment had taken a lot out of his pet, even though he’d taken the worst of it away. He wanted his boy to remember he’d been punished, not scarred and marked forever, so he’d licked and laved abraded and sliced skin, allowing his saliva to clean and heal the wounds so they wouldn’t mar that beautifully perfect skin. The bruises and sprains were reminder enough, and he knew every movement and unconscious motion would trigger a new wave of “Ow… ow… ow,” from his pet which was rather sure to keep him from fucking up again any time soon.
He’d been impressed in the sudden change the whipping seemed to have brought about. Not only was the boy quiet and meek, but he’d also been remarkably easy to train. He’d shown the boy once how he’d expected to be greeted and he’d remembered remarkably well. He’d shown, time and again, that he knew more about submitting to a demon than he’d let on. Some gestures and movements were tailored to soothe his demon and placate it instead of inciting it to anger. Just like now, that tilt of the head, that tone of voice, all of it soothed him. He didn’t have to string the boy up to have him show respect, to know his place, to be obedient. Boy’s read the right books… wonder what the Watcher thought of his study material? Spike mused to himself. Probably the most relevant shite he studied in that old heap. Nothing else is gonna apply to him now.
Every noise echoed in the silent room, making Xander flush with embarrassment. He hated how he had no privacy anymore, that even going to the bathroom on his own was a luxury he hadn’t known to appreciate. Every day the line was drawn clearly, he had no control in his life anymore, about anything. The only power he had was the choice to obey, or resist. He’d learned what resisting got him, obeying was very much the preferred option.
He knew Spike looked at him oddly now and again, especially when he did something he’d read from Giles’s forbidden books. The first time he’d bared his throat in submission to the murderous vampire’s gaze, Spike had given him that odd look. He’d been surprised, maybe even startled, but he’d looked very approving. For once something he’d read in a book had helped him.
He remembered when he first found it. He’d snuck into the library while Giles was off at a school staff meeting, heart hammering in his chest while his palms sweated freely. He’d quickly snuck into Giles’s office and jimmied the lock on his old wooden desk. Well, he hadn’t so much jimmied as picked up the letter opener from Giles’s pen cup and flicked it quickly between the top of the drawer and the desk. The wood had been so old there was a prominent gap and the lock was weak.
He’d heard something then, in the library, and it made him freeze in panic. His heart galloped in his chest while his hand strayed guiltily away from the now open drawer. Suddenly it occurred to him that he had no way to lock the drawer when he was done. I don’t suppose he’d think he’d accidentally unlocked it? I mean… why would he think someone would break into his locked drawer for, he peeked inside, paperclips. Paperclips? Why does he have a drawer full of paperclips? Well, paperclips, rubber bands and thumb tacks. Why does he have thumb tacks? Does he even have a bulletin board? And look, everything’s all organized in a caddy with a covered snap down lid. Why would it matter if the paperclips were covered or not? What?
He peeked further into the drawer and frowned, noticing there was a significant discrepancy between how deep the drawer was compared to how big the drawer was. Sneaky sneaky mister librarian guy!
It was easy enough to open, and when he managed it he found a treasure trove of explicit, detailed and uncompromisingly honest carefully maintained volumes bound in musty but well cared for leather. There were demons of pure erotic delights, even some summoning spells clearly labeled with step by step instructions which were oddly creased and stained, as if from long study. He found perverse things too, things that confused him and scared him and aroused him at the same time. He remembered guilty gropings between sweaty sheets while he remembered some of the passages, the salty proof spilt between fingers that trembled from the intensity of his orgasm. Memories of the forbidden texts always got him off faster, harder, heavier then any other fantasy he could muster.
There was even one titled “Submissive Posturing and Articulations for Survival of Vampire Capture”. It became his new bible. Not that he’d ever had a bible before, but he had an idea that it meant something he studied and lived by, because that’s what he did. The book had a full assortment, down to sketches of possible poses that showed timid submission. It had also been full of things to not do, things to avoid, like eye contact and clenched fists.
As obvious as the majority of the advice sounded it was still something he knew he’d have forgotten if he hadn’t so diligently memorized and practiced. His body strayed, strong emotions making him loose control of his discipline and self control making him make unconscious gestures of irritation and superiority and on and on. He hadn’t known how extensive body language actually was, what signals he was secretly giving to teachers and friends, enemies and family without realizing it until he’d studied that little book.
He remembered one week-end that his parents had sent him to be with his uncle Rory, like they were wont to do when the fridge was bare. He’d taken the small notebook he’d filled with notes and diligent copies of important pages with him, and used his new weapon.
For the first time in his life no one hassled him when his uncle sent him to the store to pick up a pack of smokes. He not only picked them up without being asked for ID, but he got the girl behind the counter’s phone number too. He’d been startled at first, of course, but once the surprise had worn off he realized just how much he’d learned.
Of course by the time he went back home he worked hard to keep the babbling idiot boy wonder all that anyone in Sunnydale saw. It became a secret power, like a hidden identity and it filled a hole he hadn’t known he’d had. He felt like Superman, mild mannered doofus by day, but whip off those glasses and voila! Instant hero!
He felt so stupid, thinking about it late at night while trying hard to pretend the sounds of his parents screaming and objects breaking were from the TV instead of actually happening downstairs. If he really had any super powers he’d protect his mom from his heavy fisted dad, he’d not be intimidated by the monsters and uglies they constantly seemed to fight and he’d definitely be able to win Buffy’s heart for his very own.
Reality rarely fit his fantasies…
Except for now, it seemed. Once more he wondered who exactly it was that was answering his prayers, because they had very selective hearing.
He woke up in the bed again, as he had every night since his punishment. Noises came from the bathroom, faint but real, so he knew where Spike was. Each time Xander woke up, he wondered if this would be the last time he’d be allowed on the bed or if this time he’d be expected to pay for the privilege. He held no illusions about his status, about what was expected of him and what tasks he’d be forcibly dedicated to perform at his vampire Master’s whim. He just wished he knew what was coming next and how he was supposed to behave.
So far Spike hadn’t put a single penetrative finger or object inside him, and Xander was starting to get nervous. Well, nothing penetrative other than the toothbrush, because that was one of the first things he’d asked for. He winced at his train of thought, Toothbrush IN MY MOUTH! Not inside my other insides! Ick ick ick and ew! I mean… ow! Total ow! The fact that it had been granted still surprised him to no end, then again he supposed the vampire really did have a sensitive nose.
When’s he going to make me… make me… I can’t believe he’s just waiting around! He ranted inwardly. He really didn’t have much patience as it was, but this sadistic game was ripping him apart. He spent hours gritting his teeth, fighting against reactions and urges that he’d deny deny deny ever having and it was starting to wear thin.
Part of him had begun to wonder if getting raped wouldn’t be better than constantly worrying about it and never having it happen. It hung over him, a heavy impenetrable layer that made his heart pound, his palms sweat and gave him almost constant nausea. He didn’t want to be raped, but if he would just… do it!! At least then it would be over, done… or started, as the case may be. He wondered if he could somehow make the next time so bad Spike never came back for more. Or not… because he’d probably just make me do… whatever. Why hasn’t he done anything? Am I like… ugly? Or just… not as much fun to rape as he thought? Because, really… that wasn’t that much fun for me either and if he doesn’t want to do it again I’m all for it!
Cool, slim fingers carded through his hair again from behind, which was when he realized that was what had woken him in the first place. He didn’t freeze, he just didn’t move while Spike pet him gently; it had become a part of his morning routine now. Next he would be led to the bathroom to do his morning routine. First he’d be led to the toilet to empty his bladder and bowels, with Spike watching the whole time, then he’d be led to the sink so he could wash his hands and face. The first few days he didn’t notice, his beard growth was still sparse enough that he only shaved once every couple of days but after a while he couldn’t help but notice his chin and upper lip remained smooth and his eyebrows never lost their shape. That’s when he remembered what Spike had said to him, while he hung in that shower room. “There we are, my little pup. All nice an’ smooth, every bit of hair whipped off. No worries, they won’t be growin’ back.”
Next he’d stand with his mouth open, legs spread and his right hand grasping his left wrist while Spike carefully and meticulously cleaned his teeth with toothpaste and an electric toothbrush. He’d come home with the battery operated set and some unflavoured toothpaste the night after his punishment. He remembered with faint disgust how all of that had come about.
Spike and demanded an answer as to why his pet kept turning his head away. Xander had fearfully answered completely honestly, unsure how his vampire captor would respond to the topic. He’d been startled when Spike suddenly gripped a fistful of his hair and turned his head forcefully until he was finally face to face with the blond. The searing kiss that claimed his mouth had shocked him into immobility.
Even after the claiming, the humiliation and degradation, he’d still been virgin enough to believe bad breath could not be overlooked enough for an open mouthed kiss; never mind a deeply explorative and consuming kiss. The fact that Spike knocked that preconceived notion clear out of the water only made him realize, without a doubt, nothing with the vampire would ever be as expected.
And now he was back to thinking about how he still hadn’t been raped and once more he felt the heavy blanket fall and try to smother him again. He wondered if this is what Spike meant when he said he’d have his puppy beg for it… because he was beginning to be very tempted. Maybe then, afterwards, he’d finally be able to breathe. At least then it would be over. Started. Started but the wait would be over, and that’s what was killing him so really why wasn’t he begging already?
Spike strode into the bedroom like he owned the place which Xander supposed he did so he couldn’t understand why he felt so irked by it. Spike left the bathroom door open behind him and Xander could detect a faint wisp of scent, something smoky and rich coming in from the bathroom. It teased at his memory before drifting away on an air current.
Xander’s eyes snapped to his owner’s every movement instantly. It wasn’t so bad, really, being forced to watch Spike’s every move meant he had an excuse to ogle at the odd moments. Not that he was ogling. Because he wouldn’t ogle Spike, because that was just not something he would ever do. Nope. Nuh uh. No way, and you can’t prove it! Okay! Fine! It wasn’t so much ogling as… Spike was the only thing in the room he hadn’t spent all day staring at already.
That was it.
Besides, bed time was over. Spike had something to do today and would be leaving Xander alone. That meant Xander had to get back into his crate until Spike came back. He obediently crawled into the roomier and much more comfortable cage than the one he’d first been forced into. It wasn’t so bad, not really. He had ample padding in the sleeping section and he was allowed to piddle and eliminate his bodily wastes in a separate section of cage that sealed the odor producing filth away if he needed it. Though Spike knew his elimination schedule and had yet to be late enough for Xander to be able to use the nifty contraption. He had his choice of four channels or Spike’s CD’s whenever Spike left him alone in his cage. He had his food in its humiliating dispenser to while away time. He even had crayons and a colouring book, though he wasn’t quite sure if he should be using them. On one hand, Spike had given them and obviously expected them to be used… on another it was a colouring book and crayons and he was very past the colouring for fun age. Unless he actually got back into the comic book making of his very own that he used to want to make but then his dismal spelling and the whole exploding pen fiasco of ’95 had put an end to that.
I really am a puppy, aren’t I? He thought to himself. Out on a leash with my master, and kenneled so I don’t soil the carpets and ruin the furnishings while he’s out. I wonder how long he’ll think I’m a puppy, and when I’ll be a proper well behaved dog so he can leave me unattended? He didn’t think he’d be able to escape no matter what, but at least if he was free of the cage he could pretend he was trying to escape. Not that things were so horridly bad right now.
I wish… I really wish I could make up my mind about what the hell was going on. Half of me thinks this is torture, evil, inhuman, cruel… and the other half wants more. He got onto his knees and knelt up to slide the waiting dildo into his mouth. He suckled a few mouthfuls of the tepid sludge before he lay down again, swirling it around in his mouth before swallowing it. It was weird how… comforting this taste had become to him.
He felt safe, safer than he’d ever felt at home. At least here the beatings made some kind of twisted sense instead of just happening whenever his dad happened to get pissed off. He knew the rules now, understood what was clearly expected of him and as long as he behaved his life was… surprisingly tolerable. It really wasn’t much different than what he’d do at home over a summer vacation. Try to be quiet and good, veg out in front of the TV while eating a constant stream of snacks. So there were no comic books or candy bars or long hours with Willow. There was also no unprovoked beatings from a ham fisted father, he never went hungry and he was learning to appreciate the qualities of silence.
He lifted his hand and stroked one of his scars, feeling a delightful shiver dance down his spine in response. He’d seen them in the mirror, the twin scars about his throat. The light had caught on them, giving them an odd silvery sheen that caught his eye and made him stare. It was like a permanent collar about his throat, like the brand upon his thigh, it screamed ownership and servitude. Xander had felt the spit dry in his mouth when he felt a wave of lust roll over him at the sight.
It terrified him, the longing he occasionally felt wash over him without warning. Spike always smirked when the scent reached his sensitive nose then leered down at him. That just made him all the more aroused until he was hard and dripping and that just made Spike leer that much more. He wondered sometimes if he’d be able to cum just from one of Spike’s looks because that was all the attention Spike seemed to be paying him; well other than the head petting sessions and the bathroom and cleaning and feeding and… Okay, so Spike was paying a lot of attention to him, just nothing sexual and now he was back to wanting it to be over again! Started… over, started… whatever.
Spike stormed into his room in a rage, slamming the door so firmly behind him he cracked the frame. Xander had been asleep, but cowered in the corner of his cage furthest away from his Master before the door stopped trembling. He never looked away though, he may be scared but he wasn’t stupid. Spike stalked over to the dresser, his fists clenched tight and his walk almost stiff-legged; he was almost vibrating in his fury, before he ran his arm across it and knocked everything off in a hail of shattered glass.
Xander barely breathed. He didn’t move a muscle when Spike stormed about the room, tossing every table and breaking anything fragile in a pure rage. He snarled and growled, screamed sometimes; he screamed so hard the cords stood out in his neck and still he went on trashing his room.
Xander started to feel light headed, but still he barely breathed. He’d never seen Spike in a fury like this, not even when he was confronting Angel the night he was offered like a sacrificial lamb. But his shaking was starting to ease slightly, now and again he’d hold the sides of his head for a brief moment as he partially doubled over before he started kicking the pillows about the room again, sending feathers flying everywhere.
Finally the tempest passed and the storm hit the shore. Tears fell like bitter rain as Spike collapsed to his knees. Great heaving sobs were wrenched from him in an almost violent torrent that left him weakly hunched over. Xander watched on in awed confusion, he’d never seen Spike so totally torn apart, never seen anyone so totally torn apart really. He couldn’t believe the amount of pain the vampire was obviously in but the evidence was hard to fake.
Finally Spike struggled to his feet and staggered to the bathroom on weak legs, gently closing the door behind him; Xander kept staring at the door. The thick wood muffled most sounds but he could hear the shower starting up. A couple of minutes later a minion scurried in with a bottle of Jack Daniels which he tucked just inside the bathroom door before he scurried out again. The shower kept going, and eventually even the door couldn’t block the sounds of a vampire in pain.
Xander huddled in his corner, no longer terrified but utterly confused about what he was feeling. Maybe this is that Stockholm’s syndrome thing… right? Because really, why the hell would I care that Spike just looks like he got gutted with a rusty spear? His pain is good, my pain is bad. Right?
He’d fallen asleep again, head resting on his knees at an awkward angle, but he’d been asleep. He hadn’t heard the bathroom door open, or Spike’s steps into the room; he’d even slept through his cage door opening, but he couldn’t ignore the cool hand at his throat. It petted the pulsing artery stretched and exposed from the angle of his neck, stroking the sensitive scar marring the perfect flesh. He shivered gently, marveling at the reactions being drawn from such a simple caress, before he remembered where he was and he tensed slightly. Spike didn’t like that.
With a sharp snarl the gentle caress turned cruel and callous, dragging him stumbling from the cage before getting tossed on to the plush expanse of Spike’s bed. He started to scramble back, away from Spike but a warning hiss had him stilled almost instantly. Another bottle of whiskey was pulled from the drawer just before Spike drained and smashed the old one. Xander flinched instinctively and prayed really hard Spike would get the shards cleaned up before he forced his naked and barefoot slave across them.
“Think you’re too good for me whelp? Is that it? Crawlin’ away from me like you had a choice. You’re MINE!” Spike roared before lunging on top of Xander in a feral rage, fangs bared and aiming for the smooth expanse of throat that was suddenly open and vulnerable. Xander drew in a startled ragged breath and then the blood spurted into his mouth in a salty hot flow, searing his throat with the liquid bliss that was Xander.
He dug his fingers into Xander’s lengthening hair and pulled his head sharply, exposing more of the tender throat. He drew in another mouthful, moaning low in his throat. He pressed his body firmly against Xander’s, letting his pet know just what this gift was doing to him when he heard an answering moan drawn from the human below him. He hungered for more, but the moan had woken him from the depths of despair.
Puppy bared his throat to me, even as angry as I was. He’s either bloody deranged or has a death wish. He pulled his face away from the faintly seeping wound, the coagulant in his saliva already starting to work. His fingers unclenched in his boy’s hair, fine brown hairs stuck to them where they’d been torn out. He stared at them dumbly, suddenly aware just how harshly he’d been treating the boy. He was so engrossed in the thin strands that he was nearly caught off balance when Xander thrust needily beneath him.
Or maybe he’s finally turned the corner and admitted it to himself, he mused internally. He leant imperceptibly closer and breathed deep of the heady bouquet pouring from his pet. The answering yearning it drew from him sent a shiver up his spine and he swallowed convulsively, relishing the lingering taste of his pet. His gums ached, wanting to be buried once more into the yielding hot flesh still bared before them. Spike licked the marks almost feverishly instead, trying to sate his hunger. The fact that it had Xander almost convulsing with need below him didn’t exactly make him want to stop either.
“You’re mine pet… you know that, yeah?” His voice was soft, almost tender as he stroked cool digits through lengthening waves and slid back behind his human mask. The heartbeat beneath him sped up sluggishly in response. The scents grew heavier as Xander’s arousal became blatant, growing heavy against his thigh.
“Y-yes S-sir,” came the ragged and breathy reply, breath hot against his undead skin. Spike smirked down at his boy, stroking his fingers along the fresh, raw wound. His pet almost yelped before he shuddered and shook slightly, pressing upwards hard while his eyes rolled back in his head. So pretty, Spike marveled. His face paints everything, doesn’t it? Nothing hidden from view. He’s so precious. Even after everything he wants me. Wants me as the demon, wants me as the man, he doesn’t care! He wants me like that bitch never could. Never demon enough for her, never mean and sadistic enough, never enough to love me or want me more than others. But him, he’s mine, mine and he bloody well knows it. I’ll make sure he remembers it, won’t ever be able to deny it again…
Breathing was hard. Breathing was really really hard, especially with a vampire sprawled over his body, pressing him into the mattress. Well, that didn’t help, especially coupled with the biting and the urges the feeding seemed to have woken within him with a vengeance. Not that there was coupling, not yet, but the way Spike was pushing things along it didn’t look like it would be long now. Not that his was short, because from what he could tell, pressing against his hip, it really wasn’t short at all. Not that he was really paying attention to that, because he would never pay attention to that and besides, Spike's tongue was really really invasive at the moment.
Xander lost himself in the kiss, reaching his cuffed wrists around Spikes body and unconsciously drawing him closer. His eyes drifted closed, breaking rule number one but Xander was willing to take the punishment just to wallow in the sensation of this kiss. Whiskey, blood, smoke and Spike filled his senses, leaving him dizzy and light headed. It consumed him, claimed him, left him burning and aching for more even though it never seemed to stop. The hand fisted in his hair didn’t take anything away from the situation, it just added to it, making him feel more vulnerable and out of control.
Who needs control? This not controlling thing has so far been very not of the bad.
Spike finally relented and broke the kiss, feeling hot hands pulling him down onto a hotter body. He watched his pet heave great panting gulps of air into constricted lungs, lips a bruised a puffy red that were licked repeatedly, almost reverently. Glazed eyes opened slowly to gently roll exhaustedly until they finally focused on him. Oh… he knows. And he is not unhappy about the reality either. He’ll stay. I’ll make him stay, I won’t lose my pet and have nothing. I won’t lose my precious boy.
He felt the tears build up in his eyes as the alcohol sloshed a wave of wounded pain through him. He suddenly remembered why he was here, and the alky-hol was making his tongue loose and his barriers crumble to the ground. He sobbed openly, crying softly for a few minutes while his tears washed Xander’s confused face. “She left me,” he whispered defeatedly. “The bloody bitch left me.”
He jumped up suddenly to his feet, and roared with every ounce of strength he had, “The fucking bitch left me!” He fell into an exhausted sobbing heap on the floor, pulling his hair now and again between gut wrenching sobs. He wanted to feel angry again, he wanted to feel that burning heat wash away all of his pain and leave him seared clean! But… -ah, there was always a but- he couldn’t seem to find the energy anywhere.
His princess was gone, abandoned him, spurned him with cool words and chilling revelations. She wasn’t just a pretty little thing, she was smart too, bloody brilliant if she set her sights on something. Ever since she saw what he was willing to do to have her, to keep her his and his alone, she realized she saw something she didn’t like anymore. She liked it when he was rough and manly, taking her forcefully and with little, if any mercy. She liked it when he ripped off the heads (or hands or tails or whatever happened to be his choice) of those that got to close. What she didn’t like was Spike going so far beyond anything he’d ever done before. Not only had he called in outside back up for his fight, but he called in the Slayer, the bane of their very existence to kill Daddy! Precious sodding Daddy!
The anger welled inside him once more, driving him around the room in a red haze as he destroyed the hangings and mementos, and had even started tearing up the rugs when he collapsed again in another weakened tear drenched heap. Belatedly he realized he’d left his bottle by the bed, and he was so gods cursed thirsty. Maybe if he just sat here and conserved his strength, he’d be able to get up and take a nice long swallow. And maybe after he had a nice long swallow he’d be up for a nice warm drink. Because, really… Dru’s plans aside, he had no use for the whelp.
He had no use for anything, really. May as well take his pet while he was still around, ‘cuz come shortly after dawn he sure wouldn’t be.
One minute he’s all over me, then all over the floor, all over the room then all over the floor again. I’d laugh if I didn’t think my life was at risk. He watched Spike fall into his latest huddle, shivering and shaking, muttering incoherently now and again under his breath. He remembered what he’d read in the handbook, the line that had been bolded and emblazoned in his memory just like on the pages “When in doubt or in fear the only correct and likely life saving act you can perform is a display of blatant submission.”
I’m just doing this to survive, that’s it, he reasoned to himself. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just so I can live, and not have to survive in misery. That’s it. I know that. He kept goading himself internally as he slid off the bed in silence. He landed on his knees and kept falling silently forward until his fingers dug into the thick pile of the carpet.
He felt his nails scrape the rough base weave, sharp bits digging into the sensitive skin under his nails. He used the tiny flashes of pain to ground himself, eyes clenched tight as he tried to calm his breathing. I can do this. I can do this because it’s me doing it for me and not him forcing me for him. He gulped back a sob, then another and another before he got himself back under control. Control, he snorted, this is the only control I have.
He rocked gently forward on his knees, propelling himself forward. His head hung low between his shoulders, every line screamed humility and subservience. With a carefully measured gait he moved almost silently forward, toward the one thing in this room that could destroy him or turn him into a sobbing broken heap with a single blow. Each movement he made towards the half blinded vampire caused a new wave of gooseflesh to erupt over his naked skin, each time his muscles screamed in protest, trembling and trying to fail to keep him from the vampire. Xander was entirely too stubborn to let his body take over though, he fought against it to keep his movements smooth and graceful like Spike liked and demanded of his pet.
His face felt hot, perspiration dotted his upper lip and forehead while he struggled onwards. The room stretched before him like a never ending mirage, thick pile under every knee and palm steps. It’s never going to end, is it? It’s like cursed or enchanted or something. He’s gonna get to watch me crawl to him forever and ever and ever, and I won’t be able to stop because if I do the demon will take it wrong and I’ll die. I’m gonna be crawling until I pass out from exhaustion, aren’t I? He’ll never let me stop. I bet this was all part of his evil nefarious plan from the beginning! Evil, soulless, toothy, blood sucking… It was the only thing that kept him going when he’d much rather just stop, curl up into a ball and have a nice anxiety attack.
After the first few steps though, he started to calm down. Each motion was more easy than the last, stiff movements slowly melted to flow with silent grace. He felt like he was falling, floating downward on a gentle breeze into a deep dark velvet lined chasm. He remembered a vague feeling like this when Spike put that blindfold on him, this sweet, soft falling, but this time he was going so much deeper.
He didn’t fight it, he didn’t know how and he really didn’t see why he should. He felt warm, safe, sure. He knew what he was doing, that it was the correct thing to do. He felt a gently growing blossom of peace spread from his gut and outwards and filling him with such contentment he felt like he was glowing. This was it, his place, his meaning, his home, why had he been fighting it for so long? Why had he been denying to himself what he was?
He found himself snapped out of his reverie, directly in front of Spike. With careful deliberation he slid into a position Spike had yet to teach him but that Xander had read about in those abandoned books. It was the position of humble offering.
He knelt directly in front of the vampire and spread his knees almost painfully wide apart. He turned each wrist upwards and rested them on his knees tilted so they faced Spike. The final part was the hardest, baring his throat. He tilted his head back and to the right, arching the side that was the least ravaged and tender so his owner would have a clean canvas to mark. He kept his eyes gently closed, fought to keep his muscles loose and his expression as impassive as possible as he offered himself to his Master.
The scent brought him back to himself. The sweet bubbling burst of pheromones that was unique to his precious pet. Ahhhhhh, how they sizzled on his tongue and palate, popping in sweet bursts that left him hungering for more. He drew it in with softly panted gasps, letting his eyes flicker open. The sight that greeted him stole his unneeded breath away. He groaned softly and heard the answering hitch in breath from his pet; his demon responded with its own throaty growl.
“You’re exactly what she said, aren’t you pet?” he asked in drunken wonderment, reaching out to stroke the bared throat. The shiver he drew from his pet made his mouth water and his eyes shimmer from blue to gold. He’s giving me himself, Spike marveled, running his fingers through sable locks then stroking them over the scar, feeling the heat radiate from it. Wants me… finally admits he wants me… With a cruel grin he pressed down hard on the scar, delighting in the startled pained/pleasured moan. The burst of lust filled pheromones that followed immediately after came as no surprise Wants all of this… wants me. She was right. Bloody bint was right.
Without thought his body lunged forward, pressing his lips hard against the human’s, moaning when the boy’s mouth opened almost instantly to allow his tongue full access. He heard the thudding heartbeat speed merrily along, whispers of blood through dilated passages were music to his ears. Bint was right… He smells so good, all ripe for me, waiting like a good puppy. Never been touched, never been trained but knows how to get my demon purring. So sweet my boy is… so sweet.
Xander stayed unmoving beneath the assault, though his tongue was active and very responsive. Spike pulled back to nibble gently along Xander’s lips, feeling each shuddering breath being drawn in and let out. His erection was blatant and weeping steadily, pearly drops collecting at the head before splatting on the carpet, but he made no move to ease his needs. Such a good boy. So good. He licked and nibbled down to warm curve of arched throat and getting an uncontrollable gasp and hip thrust when he applied pressure to the scar. Nummy little treat…
The haze of alcohol was lifting along with his spirits. Well, along with his erection anyways, lust sobered him almost as quickly as fear if it was intense enough, and this really was intense lust. It burned through him, roared through his veins with tingling, burning fire. Want him on the bed, on silk. Want to feel his legs around me. Gonna take him, make him mine. He’ll never leave, he’ll never ever leave me. Always be mine, always always be mine. He cried silent tears into Xander's throat, trying to hold back his gentle sobbing.
With a sudden snarl he jumped to his feet, using lust as well as anger to fuel him onwards. He leant down and swung Xander over his shoulder with frightening ease and carried him the handful of steps to the foot of the bed before he tossed his burden effortlessly into the middle of the plush bed. Xander barely got a chance to make a squeak in response to the abrupt movements, but he never once struggled or denied Spike whatever he wanted.
Spike stood at the foot of the bed and paused, feeling the hunger for blood abate while igniting another hunger within. He smirked evilly before starting to crawl sensually up the bed to cover Xander’s trembling, naked body with his. “She said you were mine, ‘cause I need someone to keep me whole.” He laughed softly to himself, shaking his head slightly. “She knows me, stupid fucking… doesn’t matter,” he shook his head resolutely, promising himself he’d stop lamenting for now and enjoy the sweet warm treat beneath him.
“Said she saw where I’d go without you, that givin’ me up earlier was better for me. Turns out without you, I’d be in some serious pain right now.” He giggled to himself helplessly Not like I’m in kill-me-now pain anyways! Shoulda killed me, shoulda put me outta my misery… NO! Not now, got my boy. ‘S what she wanted, wasn’t it? For him to take her place, keep me from the “evil thorned sun-shine” whatever the bloody hell that meant, keep me from the “family curse”, whichever one it is we have that she means. Saved me from worse pain, right? So I should go with it, take advantage of it. Gonna make him remember he’s mine, he thought, right before lunging in for another kiss.
Okay, glad I made up my mind, because it sure as hell doesn’t look like Spike can! What the hell! Oh… wait… okay, lips. Cool lips right on mine and that tongue. Good GAWD that tongue is doing things I didn’t know a tongue could do, and I’ve tried to do a lot of things with my tongue. Not that I was practicing because I wasn’t, I was just… oh… f-foo… god, what was I thinking again? Spike had pinned his arms high above his head with one hand which he struggled against minutely, feeling an odd thrill when he realized he’d never be able to break that grasp.
Xander panted softly for a few seconds through his nose before drawing in and holding a shuddering breath, needing to break a rule and close his eyes for a brief second to gather up the courage. He hoped Spike didn’t notice, or that he’d forget when Xander wrapped his thighs around Spike’s hip to draw him hard against his throbbing erection. He heard Spike growl softly at his presumption and he bared his throat once more in response, submitting to Spike’s dominance. When Spike ground back down against him he sighed contentedly, knowing his transgression was forgiven, for now, and he pressed back hungrily in response while gazing at the vampire through lowered lashes.
Covered in tears and kisses, came Xander’s thoughts, barely coherently. It felt cleansing, in a way. He wasn’t Xander the Zeppo, waiting for someone to come rescue him, he was Spike’s Pet, so what he was doing was alright, it was expected of him! It was alright because he’d decided he’d rather live than die, rather be comfortable for the rest of his short life than bruised broken and defeated. And it felt so good.
It’ll hurt less this way, giving instead of having it taken, He felt Spike slide a hand between them to pull out the plug he was never without. He heard Spike mutter something about him being a good boy, that good boys get treated right. His breath was knocked out of him as Spike reached across his body to the night table and retrieved a bottle of lube from the drawer.
Xander gulped in a panicked breath as the reality of the situation finally hit him, but Spike just started kissing him all over again and then he couldn’t remember why he panicked. So good, Spike. So good… how do you know how to make it so good? He wasn’t panicked anymore. Now he was just wishing Spike would let his arms go. Not gonna run anymore Spike, nowhere to go. Let me touch you, please? Want to touch you…
A slicked cock pressed impatiently at his entrance before pressing smoothly inside in one impatient thrust. That’s when he started screaming.
Scream pretty for me, that’s it pet. Never hide from me, never deny me, you’re mine until you die and you will remember it! Heat enveloped him, milked him, stroked him. He was drowning in the scent of want, need, tears and pain. The boy was a heady bouquet of every scent his demon craved, demanded, and he was drunk with it. It had been so long, so very very long since he’d been able to sate his hungers in fresh, pliant flesh. Even though the human screamed, even though he struggled so prettily beneath him, arching and bucking and writhing… he didn’t struggle nearly as hard as he could and he never stopped smelling of want.
After a few rapid thrusts the boy was even pushing back against Spike, encouraging each thrust with barely timid movements. Boy's mine, knows it. He’ll remember, he’ll remember because he’ll never be without my scent. Fuck, I could lose myself in him. Dru, damn you Dru. Why’d you do this to me? Won’t forget you, won’t ever forget you, but he feels so good beneath me.
Without warning he deepened his thrusts, and pulled warm hips back hard against him hard enough to leave finger shaped bruises. Xander was making an almost mewling sound, keening and totally beyond his control and Spike didn’t bother holding his human mask anymore. Xander didn’t even seem to notice through his lust filled haze. He’s so beautiful like that. Totally lost in the moment, in the sensation. He’d make such a pretty childe, wouldn’t he?
The tide pulled hard suddenly, images of Xander as a vampire hunting, fucking, obediently sucking his cock in front of his precious friends pushed him over an edge he hadn’t realized he was at. Instinct short circuited his brain, his fangs were parting soft succulent skin the instant his tepid seed filled his pet. The fresh flowing hot blood filled his mouth and triggered yet another orgasm, leaving him shivering and spent on top of the warm, sweat slick skin.
Warm, trembling, sweat slicked skin.
Spike chuckled darkly and gripped Harris’s engorged and dribbling cock in an almost crushing grip. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you puppy?” Whimpered assent was his only reply before Spike started twisting his prize. Xander yelped and started to squirm delightfully once more before the words came from stuttering lips.
“I-I-I’m a g-g-g-good p-p-puh-puppy!”
Spike smirked to himself and licked the fresh wound, giving Xander’s cock a few swift wanks. “And good boys get rewarded. Cum pet.” The answering scream was no less piercing than the one ripped from him earlier in the evening, but it filled him with a different kind of hunger. The spurts of hot cum between their bodies finished it, leaving his pet dazed and exhausted, eyes glazed and darkened as he stared blindly ahead.
Maybe after he’s properly trained. He’ll look so pretty in the moonlight.
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