The smell of breakfast cooking finally woke Xander late the next afternoon. He sat up groggily before realizing, bewildered, that the vampire had untied him while he slept. He could hear the most God-awful music coming from his kitchen.  He was fairly certain it was the Sex Pistols or some other long forgotten punk band.

 

The mortal stretched trying to work the kinks out of his shoulders. He felt tired and stiff all over. At least his butt had stopped throbbing. He blushed remembering everything that had happened the night before. He supposed he should get dressed and find his “master.” He still cringed every time he had to say that word.

 

The vampire, as far as he could tell, loved it. Though he supposed anyone would find it gratifying having someone cater to their every whim. He'd had the little harem slave fantasy himself, once or twice. He really didn't want to let the evil undead know that he was awake yet. Though he supposed Spike would get mad at him if he hid away in here, for say the rest of his life.

 

Sighing, Xander decided he had better get up. Just then, he noticed the supplies neatly stacked on the opposite corner of the bed. A crisp fluffy clean towel, scissors, some baby oil, one of Anya’s old cans of shaving cream and one of her razors, along with a note were piled there waiting for him.

 

“Breakfast will take a bit, shower then come and eat.

Don’t bother dressing.

 

Master S.

 

P.S. It’s easier if you trim the excess hair.

Then soften the hair with warm water before using the razor.

When you’re done, oil the entire area.

Oh, and, Kitten, I’ll know if you wank in the shower.”

 

The brunette gulped reading the note, surprised at how neat the blonde’s penmanship was. He’d known the vampire was serious, but with everything that had followed, Spike’s command in the shower had completely slipped his mind. Damn vampire. What could he possibly have to gain by this? Well except another way to completely humiliate his slave.

 

Knowing that if he didn’t comply his ass would be paying the price, the young man bitterly picked up the things the vampire had laid out for him. He made his way to the washroom and climbed into a steaming shower. He let the hot water soothe his aching muscles for a while. Finally realizing he couldn’t put it of any longer, he picked up the scissors.

 

He carefully started trimming the short wiry hair that covered his groin area. He stood dazed has he watched it disappear down the drain. Using the face cloth his master had provided, he moistened the area like an old fashioned barber before picking up the shaving cream. He remembered this stuff. He’d picked it up for Anya one day. She’d refused to use it since it was unscented. She’s made him go back out and get her this passion fruit scented stuff. He smiled in spite of himself at the memory.

 

He lathered himself up and picked up the razor. Though he’d used one since he was a teenager it felt incredibly awkward in his hand. Maybe it was because the handle was different than what he was used to. Maybe it was because it was pink?

 

It took him a long time to finish. A lot longer than he’d first thought it would. The vampire expected him to do this all the time? He couldn’t believe he’d just shaved his balls. Experimentally, he reached down and brushed the now smooth skin. It actually felt kinda nice. He could see why some people would want to do this, weird kinky sex people.

 

He wanted to stay in the shower a lot longer, but he knew Spike would be angry with him if he did besides the water was getting cold. Turning off the water, he stepped out of the tub quickly drying himself off.

 

He picked up the bottle of generic baby oil and started slowly applying it to his testicles. He wasn’t sure how much the vampire wanted him to put on, but he didn’t stop until his genitals were glistening. Unfortunately caressing the slick liquid all over his privates made him excruciatingly hard again. Groaning, he made himself set most of the stuff he'd used in the shower for tomorrow, throwing the dirty linen in the hamper before nervously making his way to the kitchen.

 

He felt ridiculous parading around the place stark raving nude. At least he didn’t have to worry about giving a passerby a free show, since he knew the blinds would be closed so his Master wouldn’t spontaneously combust.

 

“There you are. I was starting to wonder. All done?” The vampire asked him as he made his way into the wonderful smelling kitchen. It smelled like… It smelled like bleach boy had been baking.  Vampires baked? Since when was Spike so domestic?

 

“Um… yeah,” Xander answered, knowing his face must be beat red. The vampire had that infuriating smirk on his face again.

 

“Well don’t just stand there, boy. Come over here,” the vampire grumbled in exasperation. The blond reached out and started fondling him as soon as he was within arms reach. Oh man! He couldn’t help himself, he whimpered pathetically. Spike just chuckled. Easy for Blondie to laugh, he got off ten times a day.

 

He was so damned horny. He’d had the most vivid sex dreams last night. He was lucky he hadn’t woken up all wet and sticky. Okay, thinking about the dreams was not going to help him here Of course trying not to think about it just made the entire orgy that had gone on in his head the night before flash before his eyes. He heard himself whimper in frustration again.

 

“You’re pretty when you blush, Kitten” the vampire teased, pinching his bottom. “Come and eat your brekkie,” he continued ushering the construction worker inside. Xander gasped when the vampire took a seat in front of the only plate, and then pulled the surprised human unto his lap.

 

The young man had thought he couldn’t possibly be more mortified than he already was; of course he was totally wrong. Here he was, perched on his master’s lap like a miniature poodle.

 

He opened his mouth mechanically when Spike tore off a piece of blueberry muffin and brought it to his lips. It tasted okay. This was the second day in a row the vampire had cooked for him. He supposed the vampire wanted to protect his property. A slave that starved or got sick wouldn’t be much fun for him would it?

 

“Are you hungry, Kitten?” the vampire asked, stroking his newly shaved flesh some more. God, he hated being called that, but apparently that was his new name now.

 

“Yes, Master,” he muttered, trying his best to keep his feelings out of his voice. By the look Spike gave him, he must not have succeeded.

 

“Problem, Kitten?” Spike inquired, feeding him another piece of muffin.

 

“No, Master,” he answered. What did the vampire want him to say? I’m having difficulty adjusting into my new role of sex toy… Master.

 

“That's good, Kitten, because we have some things to do today and it would be a shame if my having to take a strap to you for being surly got in the way,” the vampire warned, teasing his hard shaft with the hand that wasn’t busy feeding him a forkful of scrambled eggs. 

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be,” the brunette answered quietly. He was trying very hard to be obedient, like he’d pledged to be, but it was difficult. Every time he thought he’d come to terms with his new situation, the vamp would pull something completely out of left field and Xander would be lost and feeling overwhelmed again.

 

“I know, pet, that’s why I’m not going to make a big issue out of it. Now, thank me for being so patient,” the vampire instructed brokering no argument.

 

“Thank you, Master,” Xander forced himself to reply. He hated this worse than the sex. At least when Spike had fucked him so far, he'd always made sure it was enjoyable for him as well. But he hated this constant need that the undead creature seemed to have to degrade him or worse - force him to degrade himself.

 

“For what, Kitten?” the blond insisted, petting his thigh absently.

 

“Thank you for putting up with my pissy attitude, Master,” the dark haired man conceded. Was the stupid bloodsucker happy now?

 

Man, it felt so weird being seated on the much smaller man’s lap. Spike had him eating out of his hand, he realized as he took another swallow of eggs. He wanted to tell Captain Peroxide that he could feed himself, but some self-preserving part of his brain told him that was not a good idea.

 

“Apology accepted, but I expect you to be a very good boy today to make it up to me. We’ll be going out just as soon as the sun sets and I expect you to be on your best behavior. We need to do some shopping," the vampire informed him, stuffing a small piece of sausage into his mouth.

 

 Great, another shopping trip. How many sex toys could one vampire need? They hadn't even come close to using all the ones the blond had forced him to load up his charge card with. Hopefully, this was the promised trip to the supermarket. Hopefully, they wouldn't run into anyone that Xander had ever met, ever.

 

Spike finally grabbed him by the waist and slid him back unto his feet. Getting up himself, the vampire handed him the now empty plate.

 

"Go wash the dishes and tidy up in the kitchen, Kitten, then meet me in the bedroom," his master ordered, giving his penis one last stroke before walking away.

 

Once again, his master had left him with a raging hard-on. He didn't feel sexy walking around the kitchen, his erection bobbing in front of him. He felt ridiculous. He started filling the sink, wanting to get this over with. He'd always avoided housework. That had always been one of Anya's major complaints.

 

The human could hear the sounds of drawers and closet doors banging as he did the dishes. What was Spike doing in there? The mortal supposed he shouldn't worry about it since there really wasn't anything he could do to stop it. He was a little alarmed when he heard what sounded like fabric ripping, but forced himself to finish his assigned task. There was no use giving the blond extra excuses to torment him.

 

After he'd finished straightening the kitchen, the mortal made his way back to the bedroom. He gasped at the sight that greeted him. That bleached out bastard! How dare he? The vampire was in the process of shredding one of his favorite shirts to pieces. The brunette's eyes went to growing pile of rags, which had once been his wardrobe at the vampire's feet. His fists clenched at his sides. The mortal actually had to bite his lip to prevent the string of profanities he had running through his brain from exploding out of his mouth.

 

Spike just kept on pulling things out of is closet. He pulled out a pair of blue jeans giving them a quick once over, before tossing them onto a smaller pile on the bed. Guess those things met Billy Idol's approval. Of course those things were deemed acceptable by the vamp, they were everything dark and tight the Slayerette owned.

 

"Finished, Kitten? Good. Go get some bags to put this rubbish in," the vampire commanded. Xander thought that there must be steam coming out of his ears. There must be, he didn't think he'd ever been this pissed off in his life. The vampire had to have discarded three quarters of his wardrobe.

 

He felt like an unwilling passenger in his own body, as he went back into the kitchen for a couple of large trash bags. He didn't know how he was going to survive this. He'd only belonged to Spike for two days and he already wanted to poison the blonde's blood supply.

 

When he saw Spike pull out one of the last shirts in his closet, he couldn't help himself. 

 

"No, not that one," he screamed, reaching to snatch the lime green shirt from the vampire. Spike just smirked, making a show of snatching each side of the fabric in order to rip it in two.

 

"Please don't, Master, please," he begged, knowing his pleas would probably fall on deaf ears. He realized he was shaking all over. He thought there was a real possibility he was going to be sick.

 

The vampire must have noticed, because he was next to Xander in moments. Silently he let Spike, sit him on the bed. He felt like he was wrapped in cotton.

 

"Kitten?" his Master asked. Funny, the vampire sounded worried.

 

"Yes, Master?" he couldn't seem to make his mind work properly.

 

"This is a really ugly shirt," his Master commented. He supposed that was true. He's kinda thought the same thing when he'd first seen it.

 

"Yes, Master," he agreed emotionlessly.

 

"I'm pretty sure it hasn't fit you for years, pet,” his Master added.

 

"It's not mine," Xander confided. He didn’t know why he was telling his Master these things.

 

"Whose is it?" his Master probed.

 

"Jesse's," he whispered. He hadn't said his name in a very long time. He'd forgotten that he had that old shirt. Jesse had left it at his house when he'd stayed over the weekend before he died. Even years after, Xander had never been able to bring himself to throw the hideous shirt away.

 

"He was my best friend," the brunette answered dully.

 

"Was?" his undead master questioned gently.

 

"He died," the Scooby answered.

 

"I'm sorry, Kitten. What happened?" his master asked carefully.

 

"I killed him."

 

 

 Part 9

fanfic menu home

home