The
vampire sat smiling as he watched his pet sleep for a while. His boy had
obviously been worn out by their play. The brunette looked positively debauched
laying there dozing on the rumbled bed. Bloody Hell! The vampire wanted to free
the mortal’s legs and plunge into his tight heat again. He was turning into a
bigger poofter than Captain Hair Gel.
The
blond creature grumbled, carefully closing all the drapes before leaving the room,
grabbing his Zippo and fags on the way out. Making his way to the living room,
the vampire sat on the sofa and took out a cigarette. Bugger, silly boy didn’t
have a sodding ashtray in the living room.
Spike
made his way to the kitchen, muttering under his breath as he searched for a
suitable container. Definitely have to
take the little tosser shopping, the vampire thought riffling through each
of the kitchen cabinets; the silly boy
doesn’t have anything. No wonder the wanker lives on Twinkies.
The
vampire was determined to change that particular trend now that the mortal was
under his control. Would be a shame to have his boy turn into something like
that wanker of a father of his.
Finally,
the vampire grabbed a small cracked bowl and brought it back to the living
room. Closing all the blinds as he went, he sat down again, propping his feet
on the old coffee table. Lighting his smoke, the blond took a long drag
exhaling happily. Grabbing the remote, the vampire turned on the tely idly
browsing through the many channels. At this time of night nothing was on. He could hear the steady beat of his boy’s
heart in the background. The vampire finally settled on some forgettable cop
flick from the seventies.
He
knew he had to let the boy rest or he would be useless. Humans were so fragile.
They
were also incredibly soft and warm. The stupid slayer had gotten him addicted
to that heat. Now it was the same with his pet, except his boy would never
leave him. If the blond had known that having a living pet would be this
pleasurable, he would have taken one years ago. Of course, his Xander was
unique. The human was magically bound to him, condemned to follow his wishes.
It
was nice being in control again for once. The vampire’s life had been so out of
control for the past two years. The Initiative had taken everything from him.
The slayer and her bunch simply thought the chip a useful tool. Vampire
couldn’t cause human’s harm, problem solved.
Not
a single one of the so-called good guys had ever bothered to ask him how bloody
much it hurt. He supposed they knew, after all it appeared to have completely
paralyzed the vampire’s natural instincts. It hadn’t. Spike still craved the
blood and the violence. He still longed for the hunt. The chip had simply broken
him.
He’d
never experienced anything so painful in all his long life. The agony when the
chip flared even put the torture of Angelus’ first brutal rape of his virgin
body to shame. He didn’t have words to describe how much it hurt him. He
imagined it felt like being struck by lighting.
He’d
almost broken down and cried the first time it had gone off when he’d hurt a
mortal accidentally. It wasn’t bloody fair! He’d been good. He’d learn to play
by the new rules, as unnatural and unpleasant as they were. The fucking chip
didn’t care it - punished him anyway.
Then,
of course, there was the hunger. He’d been so bloody goddamned hungry at times
over the past two years. The Scoobies fed him sometimes…when they needed him
for something. The thought filled him with more bitterness than he’d liked to
admit. He didn’t like to admit how much their opinion of him mattered to him.
Not even to himself.
He
truly hated them sometimes. The way they would look down at him if they caught
him hustling some stupid college boy at the Bronze or - heaven forbid - nicking
something. Worst of all crimes, how dare he ask to be paid for his services?
True he’d come to love fighting demons, he needed an outlet for his vampire
body’s natural aggression, but didn’t humans sometimes make livings out of
doing what they loved?
No,
he was expected to stop feeding and provide muscle for them whenever they
needed it. How he managed to live was none of their concern. He remembered the
condescending look on their faces about a year and a half before when they had
caught him scavenging at the junkyard. He’d wanted to rip all of their faces
off. No, he’d wanted to dump them all naked in the middle of some strange
foreign land, without a cent to their names and see how they would fare.
The
worst had been the times he’d had to go to them for protection. He still burned
at how they had mocked his helplessness, his impotence. He hated those
feelings; they reminded him of when he was weak, of when he was him.
Now he
was powerless again. Any human who so desired it could corner him and plunge a
stake into his chest. He couldn’t even lift a finger to stop them. Most degrading of all had been a few months
ago when a couple of the mortals he’d trounced at pool had taken offence and
beaten the un-life out of him. They had beaten him so badly in the alleyway
behind the Bronze that he’d barely managed to get inside before the sun rose.
He’d been tempted to just lie there. He’d never said a word to the slayer and
her bunch. They’d simply assumed the fading bruises were from some demon the
vampire had taken on.
Despite
his hatred for them, the vampire couldn’t help but be drawn towards the
Scoobies. The fact was the vampire was unbearably lonely. Spike wasn’t good at
being alone. He’d spent a hundred years alongside his dark princess before he’d
been abandoned and left adrift on his own. Some vampires did well on their own,
but the blond was man enough to admit, he wasn’t one of them.
He
was a pack animal. He didn’t know if it was the nature of his demon or a throw
back from a mortal life spent in the company of his mum. He didn’t really care.
All he knew was he needed kin around him. He couldn’t have that anymore. No
self-respecting demon would be around him any more. Not him, the slayer’s
lapdog. He appreciated Clem’s friendship, he did. Especially since, unlike the
Scoobies, the demon’s acceptance of him was completely genuine. Clem was hardly
the crème of the demonic community. The demon was sort of like an inept younger
brother, who wanted to be included with the cool kids.
Many
of the other demons on the Hellmouth wanted the chipped vampire dead. Most of
the others did not want to associate with him either out of fear or more often
than not out of disgust at his condition. Even Harmony thought herself more of
a demon than him.
Who
wanted to be around a neutered vampire? The vampire had to laugh resentfully at
how accurate that statement was. Here he was, none of his community wanting
anything to do with him, and the vampire was prevented from creating himself
any companions, be they minions or childer. The chip barred him from even
reproducing.
So
he’d done the only thing he could. He’d tried to insinuate himself into another
family. He ran his hand over his face in disgust remembering how he’d
unconsciously tried to turn himself into closer to what the children seemed to
want. It hadn’t been even close to enough. Maybe that’s why he’d let himself
fall in love with the slayer.
It
gave him the excuse to make a bleeding fool out of himself. What did it matter
if he was acting like a poof if he did it for love? Problem was, no matter how
deep his feelings ran, the lady didn’t love him. She’d taken what she needed
and then cast him aside.
Well,
now he had someone that would, could never do that to him. The vampire had
every intention of taking advantage of that. ‘Sides he was starting to truly
enjoy himself.
He’d
been surprised how pleasing buggering his pet was. At first his only thought
had been his own imminent satisfaction, but the feeling of Harris’ hot wet
mouth around his cock had been so bloody good that he’d had to sample his other
charms. Now that he’d been inside the human boy’s tight little arse, he simply
wanted to spend all his time there. Humiliating and tormenting the whelp was
fun, too, he had to admit.
Damn
if the sight of his boy bound and struggling on the bed wasn’t one of the most
erotic he’d ever seen. Xander was finding this so very difficult. He could read
the deep shame in the boy’s eyes at the intense arousal he was feeling. Maybe
that’s why; he’d answered his pet honestly when he’d asked about the bite.
Bloody Hell! The chip had made him soft.
The
master vampire was impressed with the boy’s responsiveness, albeit reluctant.
It was amusing watching the pup fight his own body’s desires. There was so much
fire in his dark haired boy.
Finally
tired of all this self-reflection, Spike rose off the sofa, completely
disinterested in the stupid film. Turning off the television and throwing away
the remote in disgust, the vampire started prowling the apartment restlessly.
The blond vamp had always been a tad hyperactive, long before the head
shrinkers came up with the term.
The
vampire was going to have to redecorate, he realized walking up and down the
apartment. The whelp had the worst taste he’d ever seen. His crypt had been
better put together, bloody hell!
The
first thing the vampire was going to change was the boy’s wardrobe. No more
horrible orange shirts on his pet or droopy pants. The blond had to admit that the brunette had been dressing
better, but he suspected the demon bint’s influence there. No, he would not
allow the boy to camouflage himself any longer.
He
smiled, suddenly hearing the soft moans coming from the bedroom. He could hear
the boy tossing and turning, as best he could in his bonds. Spike walked back
to the bedroom. He grinned at the sight before him. Xander was dreaming.
Obviously
a very naughty dream, by the scent the boy was giving. The pale blue sheets that
he’d draped over the young man were tented.
The brunette was thrusting his hips and groaning in his sleep. He
watched the boy restlessly toss and turn. His boy’s quietly mumbled “Master”
took him aback.
So
his boy was dreaming about him was he? The vampire soundlessly made his way to
his sleeping pet’s side.
“You’re
dreaming about me, Kitten?” he whispered into the mortal’s ear faintly, as not
to wake the dark haired man.
“Are
you dreaming about what I’ve done to you? Is that what’s making my beauty so
hard? Such a beautiful hard cock. All mine,” the blond teased hoping that the
mortal would not fully awaken.
“Or
are you dreaming about what I’m going to do to you? What you hope I’m going to
do to you. Do you want your Master’s cock inside your tight little arse again?
Making you all nice and full, touching you deep inside. You can’t help yourself
can you, Kitten?”
The
brunette just sighed in response. The undead blond couldn’t help himself; he
reached down and undid his jeans. Freeing his hard cock, the vampire began
silently jacking himself off as he continued luridly whispering into the
unconscious mortal’s ear. If the wet spots on the sheets were any indication,
it was having an effect.
“Did
you like pleasing me, Kitten? You felt so good. You looked so pretty all laid
out for me,” the vampire continued.
“I
can’t wait to bugger you again, “ the vampire gasped softly. “My little slut,
so gorgeous riding my cock.”
The
vampire watched as the bound mortal tried to hump into the sheet that covered him.
The vampire was surprised that the human hadn’t come in his sleep. He supposed
he could stroke his boy off if he really wanted to, but decided against it.
Besides, the thought of disciplining the mortal should he have a wet dream sent
bolts of pleasure down to the vampire’s groin. He fisted himself harder.
“Harder,
please,” the mortal’s sleepy voice begged. It was enough to send the vampire
over the edge.