Elderly Pets

Fic: Elderly Pets

Author: josie_h

Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: Mature Audiences (M/M sexual content! And themes)
***Warnings: D/s, Major character death, slavery***

It’s an AU!..... The Premise: A hundred and fifty years after the final battle with the Senior Partners… Demons rule the world. The luckier humans are pets…. Most are bred for food. Spike survived, and in the early days found Xander at an auction, purchased him and did what Spike does best…. Made the most of it.

Author’s Note: Don’t own the characters etc and bow down to their original creators Joss, et al., plus all the wonderful online writers who continue to give them life.


The humans out of the direct Aurelian line began arriving with their handlers or owners around six in the evening. Arrangements had been made that only Aurelian handlers would be present in the grand hall so the behavior might be as true to everyday in the private quarters of the Chateau. Many of the handlers were familiar faces to the returning family and once the door closed, there were numerous a fond reunions between handler and human.

As the door opened for what seemed like the hundredth time in ten minutes, John leaned over and whispered tearfully to Daniel… “They were returned early as a sign of respect.”

Daniel looked a little puzzled then looked in the direction of John’s gaze and he gasped. At the door of the chateau’s ballroom where the family was gathering, two tall, gray haired figures could be seen standing quietly heads bowed behind their handler. Their leads were being handed over along with the papers, formally transferring their ownership and control to the senior handler of the Aurelian stud. Words were exchanged then the door closed as the two were led toward the more private room where Spike was ensconced.

Daniel felt a sense of dread. “Master will…. F#$% John! C’mon… He’ll need us. *They’ll* need us!” But John stayed his brother with a gentle hand on his arm.

“They will all need us and soon, Dan, and for many years hence. But the girls are with Master. Simon and Adrian deserve the audience without the Aurelian stud sires present.”

Daniel paused and understood John’s quiet wisdom. Their time for reunion would come, and he returned to attending a new wave of family members arriving.


All Spike could say as two silent men fell to their knees in a full down position and reached to touch their Master’s feet, was a feeble “Oh…”

Desmonda and Octavia had appointed themselves Master’s carers for the evening and were kneeling to the side of the ‘Pet’s chair’ that Master had refused to leave for more than a few minutes at a time over the past twenty four hours. They watched with concern as Spike all but fell forward, and Octavia was halfway to her feet before she realized what was happening. Spike took a hand of each of the men and tugged until they rose to a formal kneel heads still bowed.

He whispered a command, “Look at me.” The men complied. Spike noting the grey hair and wrinkled skin of ageing humans. As their faces lifted, he saw sadness and confusion in their eyes but was encouraged to see that the eyes still revealed a keen intelligence.

“Welcome home.” Then Master pulled them both forward on a slight angle until they could do nothing but to kneel either side and rest their heads on his lap. He stroked the straight hair of Adrian, and ran his fingers through Simon’s grey curls, continuing the simple action until the two lost sons relaxed against their Master. He noted the evidence of whipping, ancient scars now but there nevertheless. He also knew that other more enduring scars went unseen.

Spike continued to pet the men as he began speaking in a tearful whisper, “We never wanted … We never knew…. We tried so hard to bring you back…. I’m so sorry… so sorry…. We always loved you… you were always loved…. Still are …. And now you’re home… now you’re here… and you’re safe.”

Spike felt the warm damp of tears permeating the material of each thigh. He leant down further and lifting Simon’s face kissed the wrinkled forehead, and repeated the action with Adrian.

He then stood slowly, muscles reluctant after so many inert hours.

He began to move but Simon dropped his gaze and lifted the lead for his Master to take. His Master simply placed a pale hand over the man’s and shook his head, “Not with me, Pet, not today,… not ever.” So the two men walked solemnly behind their Master, one to each side and a step behind, their leads dangling free for time in nearly six decades.

At the end of the hallway, they entered a small room at that had been converted temporarily. There was an elegant mahogany open casket on a stand. Master reached back and took the men’s hands as he walked forward, preventing them from kneeling by lifting their joined hands to the edge of the coffin.

“We’ve got the boys home pet, just needed you to know…. So now you can rest, ‘cause everyone’s home and we’ve got our boys back….” The Master was visibly shaking and a flood of blood tinged tears began anew, but he still managed a few words “they’re here … so you….” With that, he simply folded down to kneel before the coffin and let the two men look on their father for the first and last time since they’d left.

Adrian stroked his father’s hair, placed his hand first over his own heart then his father’s and finally kissed his father’s forehead gently, then stood back as Simon did the same. Their Master struggled up as they stepped back, and stood staring at the coffin for many minutes as the sons waited heads down.

Spike eventually moved forward and caressed the beautiful face of his beloved for the very last time. He then kissed him fully on the lips and whispered “Goodbye my love.” then closed the casket, turned, and walked shakily but proudly to the door. The sons exited as they had entered, leads hanging free.

……………………………

Master only remained with the reuniting Aurelian line for two hours or so after his trip to the casket room, enough time for each Aurelian to come and pay their respects. In all cases, formal posture began the greeting as a sign of absolute respect, followed by a statement of their name. Spike repeated the same conversations, asking the individual or group of handsome humans to stand and complimented them on how good they looked, asked how they were, and anything else he could think of at the time. This was generally followed by a personal gesture of love and loyalty on their part then it would happen all over again.

Octavia was still kneeling by the side of her Master’s chair when she noted how very grey he had begun to look, the skin translucent but dull, his lips white and bloodless. She briskly rounded up four of her sisters and they helped Master up to his bedroom suite. She was relieved that someone had thought to turn on the electric blanket, installed in her father’s twilight years to warm both he and Master. Lisbeth (another of the wiccan daughters) walked over to the cupboard and pulled out an old sweater of her fathers. She put it to her own nose and sniffed deeply, even to her senses it smelt of him. She noted that her Master was now in the warm bed and had just modestly pushed the pants he’d been wearing from under the covers and onto the floor.

Octavia located a small scalpel in the bathroom and antiseptic. She sliced across her wrist leaving a thin line of red beading up she moved to sit on her Master’s bed. A bold move but these were unusual times.

“Please Master, please drink…” Master acted like a tired child and simply turned away, but he was dealing with a room of mothers who had, over the past fifty seven years, produced and raised close to two hundred and forty children between them. He didn’t stand a chance.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Desmonda flanked him on the other side and Octavia passing her the scalpel. Lisbeth meanwhile, leaned over her sister and pushed the sweater smelling of father into Master’s arms. She saw Spike’s senses respond as his eye’s widened to give a truly childlike appearance of confusion, so treated him as such, “You can keep it with you, but only if you drink.”

Assailed from all sides by the smell and sight of blood, the pulses of five healthy women, the warmth from the bed, the scent of Xander, and the firm motherly tones… he had no choice but to comply. One after another, the women fed him. No more than a hospital blood bag each, but rich, warm and full of family, and two laced with magic. As he released each wrist, he whispered his thanks. Finally he squeezed Octavia’s hand and snuggled down into the warmth, pulling the old sweater to his face and began to drift toward slumber at last. The other women departed, leaving Octavia to simply stroke his forehead until he was fully asleep, then she too left. She sent in one of the Master’s favorite handlers, a lovely blue demon named Stan, to sit with him in case he woke. If this occurred Stan need only ring Daniel at the meeting room and one of the children would come immediately to assist.

He sat watching Master and amused himself by trying to count the tassels on the pelmet cover for the curtains. His eyes drifted to the elegant, small leather bound book on the side table. It had ‘Master’s writings’ embossed in gold on the front. He idly wondered what Master wrote and why.
……………………………..

It was their 100th anniversary as partners. Partners in every possible way one could use that word, as long as love and devotion was in the mix. What do you get someone you’ve loved for a hundred years? Someone whom you knew for eighteen years before that; who you’ve fought with and against; who has saved you from monsters; and, post the Rise, from certain death. How do you represent that love in a single gift?

The consistency of their love for each other was an endless source of fascination for Xander, who had watched his own parents bicker and fight until their alienation was so complete and miserable, that it was all they knew. Perhaps for Xander and Spike, it was the harshness of the world in which they met again that affected it. Perhaps finding a friend in the midst of the death and hatred was a sign of better things to come… or perhaps it was just Spike. Spike for all his protestations to the contrary, was learned, intelligent, and creative. He noticed things others didn’t and read people easily. It was Xander’s and Spike’s saving grace in the early days of the Rise, that and his Master Vampire status, hard earned reputation, and a fair wad of cash.

His vampire was passionate in a larger than life way; affectionate to a fault (something Xander knew made the Stud years of ‘Master of Chateau Aurelius’ even harder on Spike); and protective of his own, to the death needs be. His demon strengthened him, allowed the zero to one hundred, harmless kitten to enraged tiger, fighting response to occur before the opposition had even realized the fight was on. And once it was on, he was clever, vicious, merciless and deadly. Letting loose a blood lust and fearlessness that caused even the largest demon to pause. And at the end of the day, regardless if the tussle was a physical one on the street or psychological in the boardroom Spike was nearly always the victor.

Spike taught Xander too… over the years, the donut boy grew into the matured warrior at Spike’s side. Always the ‘side kick’, Xander never felt that a problem. His position at Spike’s side was an exalted not a diminished one, particularly odd in view of the rest of the world. And in private, they each had a side, of the same bed, the same bath, the same couch, the same kiss. He had never really understood before, when older couples talked of their ‘other half’ or their ‘better half’. But after one hundred years together they were two parts of a whole, so much so that it was inconceivable that there would be any other way to be.

Their love making had changed little over the years in that it was always changing, always interesting, sometimes hilarious, sometimes hard and desperate, sometimes so slow and passionate that it made Xander’s chest ache with the love it engendered. Some of the more subtle changes came about over time as they realized the love was deepening not waning, their commitment to each other strengthening not weakening, and their trust and reliance upon each other becoming absolute.

The first few years were about passionate exchanges, proving love and willingness to commit and explore…. Rimming was new for Xander so it was explored thoroughly until the next ‘thing’ came along. Yet strangely, as things deteriorated around them their relationship became the calm in the eye of the storm. Lovemaking became stronger less frantic as time went on.

Lovemaking could be a hug and passionate kiss, comfort after seeing a public flogging, a slave auction, or the evidence of the human flesh trade.

Lovemaking could be a massage or a bath together, reassurance after watching a child torn from his mother’s grip as they were separated at a sale, or Master and slave killed for breaking public protocol.

Lovemaking could be a hard powerful near hurtful coupling, defiance and strength in the face of ridiculous odds as new laws brought new miseries to the human, and now some of the demon population.

Lovemaking could be frantic, searching, erratic and wild, full of bites and pinches, feral growls and grunted penetration with no mind to who is on top, defying the dictates of a demon society that is now delivering the first humans bred specifically for food… a ‘triumph’ of genetic modification and selective breeding… (They had seen ‘the produce’ by chance coming off a cargo ship, huge muscular buttocks and thighs, with broad backs and barrel chests. Hirsute and placid, it appeared they had been ‘gelded’ and bred knowing nothing but feeding and cruelty.)

Lovemaking could be excruciatingly slow and beautiful as they formulated their plans for the future and their life together, after seeing a sunset then meeting with a group of influential demons who also did not agree the high handedness of the US cartels in all aspects of human trade and treatment.

Their early passion had to evolve for it to survive, for them to survive. As Spike so beautifully put it in his journal years later, “Our love is as an enormous red and white glowing log on an open fire, all the detritus burned away hours ago in the fast flames of early passion, leaving a white hot burn of love at the core and heat that is far more sustainable. And those red hot coals will continue to burn hot and true until all that is left is ash.”

Once the Chateau was established and their children arrived, their lovemaking was already part of a relationship of seventy years, yet Xander appeared as a healthy and attractive human in his early fifties and they had both just had their first children. The outside world still existed and they were fighting to change things, just from an angle they had never tried before, one of political muscle rather than physical. Inside their fenced corner of the world however, peace (relative to 13 small children) reigned. And their lovemaking reflected it. Lazy Sunday mornings lying after a good shag were gone as it was the only morning the children were allowed to ‘visit’. They learned very early that no bed was big enough for thirteen squirming four year olds and two adults… but it was rather fun trying.

Xander discovered that his hip flexibility, maintained over the years by various partner ‘exercises’, had advantages when setting a ‘bear trap’ ( i.e. legs under blankets, drop knees wide, ‘unsuspecting’ four year old pretending to be a … something.. wanders in and *snap* got ‘em in the trap… then it is the next person’s turn). The lovemaking was now Spike leaning against the headboard, while the wild animals had their trapped turn, and whispering lewd remarks to the trapper, largely pertaining to what else might be trapped and how lovely he looked on his back spread wide…. More often than not Xander ended up with a ‘landing pillow’ strategically placed over the part of his anatomy that seemed oblivious to the age or activities of those present!

As the children grew and the couple’s hand was forced yet again, their lovemaking was everything from the brush of hands as they went for a moonlit walk, to the exquisitely leisurely, face to face slide of his lover’s lubed erection as it slipped in to fill whoever was on their back that night, or that time on that night…. Their lovemaking was hugging for comfort after the trauma with the two boys. Lovemaking was the quiet hand resting on the other’s shoulder as he asked for the children’s opinion and support in what they were trying to do, and giving them permission to say no. Lovemaking was Master wiping Xander’s tears of joy away as he held his first grandchild. Lovemaking was arguing and desperately wishing there were other way than to follow their breeding premise to its conclusion. Lovemaking was a lovely little ‘frottage’ onder their oak for the benefit of son John, to let him see just how beautiful two men could really be together. Lovemaking was knowing every inch of the partner’s body and using that to tease during a poetry reading…

What could one get, but a blank journal so the thoughts of his extraordinary vampire, his adored one, his Spike, might be recorded for all time.

…………………….

The women reentered the meeting room where groups of siblings and cousins from various generations were still catching up. Most of the children under fifteen had headed for the movie theatre with handlers to enjoy an evening of entertainment then be organized to bed, indeed some of the older ones chose this option also. But for the adults the excitement of being together was almost too much.

Many had been living overseas so the attire, though still within ‘the laws’, varied widely… as did their acquired accents, hair cuts and skin markings. Several bore claim marks or partnering tokens indicating that their Masters had other reasons for supporting Master of Aurelius in having the laws eased. Some had been lucky enough to have a second member of the family purchased so enjoyed some measure of continuity. A number of the women were pregnant (including some of the daughters and granddaughters from the Chateau).

The physical state of the humans varied widely also… Some demons liked fat Pets. Kathryn was terribly embarrassed to hardly recognize her own daughter as she wrapped enormous soft arms around her mother. Kaila (and eventually two other cousins) was sold into the Western African kingdom where large happened to be the preferred mark of beauty. And a Prize Pet was beholden to do nothing but relax and stay soft and get as big as humanly possible while still being mobile and able to perform as expected. She told her mother that the first six months had been the worst as she was fed constantly and prevented from doing anything, weighed daily to ensure a steady gain…. Though conceded that the being massaged four or five times a day to assist skin stretch was rather nice. After that it was easier as exercise was simply too difficult and her appetite adjusted to her size… She was large and ‘loved large’ by her Master who rejoiced in her folds, and delighted far more in bringing his Pet pleasure than the other way around. Kathryn – who had been initially quite distressed at her daughter’s size, realized the twinkle in Kaila’s eye, and felt a wave of relief … her daughter loved her life and was an adored Pet, what more could a mother ask for.


More concerning were a few of the women and men who were waif thin…. Kept starved and petit… again not considered cruelty by the culture in which they lived. Jessica’s son, Jason, who was pet to a prominent world leader in the south Asian region, appeared as though a feather could knock him over. But when she looked again she realized that he had the physique of someone who ran marathons on the sporting movies in Master’s vintage collection. His legs weren’t wasted, rather they were very, very thin and muscular, as was the rest of his body. She brushed down his sinewy arms and noted, there was no fat to be found anywhere…. Indeed it was so with the girls also. They were constantly trained and kept in peak condition for display. But with a cultural preference for no fat and slim lines, Jason did note that they were particularly lucky since in the Clan region where he lived, it was far more common to simply starve the human pets for the effect, to the point where few survived more than ten years regardless of duties, and normal slaves fared worse.

Various other parameters were discussed: tasks, rules, diets, the culture around them, the households to whom they belonged, the politics, and many others. Surprisingly there was very little jealousy, merely curiosity and much fascination as the family traits were so obvious as to be in some cases… rather worrying. Mother Charlotte stood next to thirty three year old daughter, Rowena, and twenty five year old Rachel, and the three ‘sisters’ giggled – they even stood the same curious way when not thinking , right toe pointed inward. There were reminiscences of their growing up at the Chateau and giggles at some old anecdotes and ‘class secrets’ of old. Finally, when the hubbub died down a little, and the drinks table was replenished with late night snacks, coffees and a variety of liquors, the subject turned to the reason they were together.


Daniel clinked a spoon on his scotch glass and the room fell quiet.

He and John stood shoulder to shoulder as Daniel ran through the various details of the following day … assembly area, order, time, expectations, attire, and finally an invitation to all to the family service afterwards, and the welcome news that all owners and handlers had agreed to a nighttime jaunt to an exclusive winery come theatre (no pets allowed) courtesy of the Aurelian Master, leaving all present, free to attend. (In truth Spike abhorred the ‘no pets’ rule and refused to patronize the place but in this case it had its advantages). He added, that the Master was devastated by the loss of his life partner of a hundred and fifty years, and that they must all be strong for him, just as he had protected them for so many years.

Daniel concluded by welcoming them all, particularly his brothers Adrian and Simon, and asking for a minute’s silence, not for his father in this case, but for the children of the line who had preceded their grandfather to the grave. There weren’t many but those who had died, whether by illness or mishap, were remembered and missed.

Finally he wished them all a good night, welcoming them to stay on and enjoy the evening but requesting the original generation of children and their partners meet in the smaller formal lounge room down the hall.

John had already moved by the time the announcement was made. He and Carlos walked hand in hand, Carlos noting the tension and lifting his partner’s hand to kiss the back hard in silent support. They entered first and cranked up the ‘false’ log fire a little. Carlos pulled open the drinks cabinet and noting the general lack of glasses, took a tray to retrieve the same and some of the food from the main hall.

The other siblings and breeding partners filed in, Monique came in last and kept her head down. She had carried the guilt of her brothers’ removal for years, despite the counseling at the time. And when the mutilation had occurred, there was no counselor on Earth that could have assuaged her sense of anguish. Now she was to face them.

Carlos returned and distributed glasses to everyone and filling them with the drink of choice, even if needs be it was water with some decorative mint and lemon slices.

“I have asked that we have this time together because our brothers are returned to us. In all our sadness, nothing could have shone more light on the departure of father than its resulting in expediting their return. So, would you all please raise your glasses… To Simon and Adrian… welcome home our beloved brothers…. May your remaining days be many, and surrounded by love and family.” The group responded “To Simon and Adrian.”

Formalities done with the group relaxed and began chatting, the two men were somewhat overwhelmed by the warm hugs, caressed cheeks and loving kisses they received in the space of a short 10 minutes. Simon noticed Monique near the door head still down, but shaking it furiously, her breeding partner quietly trying to persuade her of something. Simon touched his twin on the hand and held up his other as a means of staying the conversation they were in. He then led his brother over to where Monique stood, touched her partner on the shoulder, and asked with begging eyes if they might take his place in front of the woman. Both men knelt in front of their sister as Simon took her hand, put the back of it to his forehead and waited for a few seconds, then kissed it and placed it over his heart. Adrian then did the same.

Monique dropped to her knees flinging herself into their arms for a three way hug while she repeatedly asked for forgiveness. Adrian pulled out of the hug and cupped her fine jawline with his large hand. Holding her still and shook his head then carefully mouthed the words “Wasn’t You”. After years of not moving lips or tongue for speaking the action felt odd, but was necessary. When they pulled her back into the hug there was a more relaxed feel to it.

Eventually however she stood, as did they, and as her partner rejoined her. The twins both noted her small ‘bump’. Simon put a tentative hand on it and there was a wriggle beneath his fingers, he pulled back with surprise. “Yeah better be careful there brother of mine…. Jason here reckons it bites…” She leaned back into her lover and turned her head to receive a kiss. Simon put his hand back for a moment, then looked up at Monique quizzically. “It’s number 41… and this time a loner (thank goodness) usually have twins it seems!” Both mute brothers were wide eyed with wonder…. “Oh hey Desmonde’s the champ. Hey Desi… what’s your count now kids wise?”

The dark woman turned with a look of triumph, “Had numbers forty nine and fifty last spring. Might stop there don’t you think…. Nice round half century.” The woman grinned then squeezed her breeding partner’s hand, “Then we can have some *real* fun.”

A mere half hour later, the evening concluded with all present aware of the day ahead. As the couples began to leave, the two newly returned brothers looked confused and worried. They hung back near the fire with Simon rolling and unrolling his lead chain around his fingers as an obvious sign of distress. Finally Adrian simply fell into a down kneel by the fire and waited. His twin followed suit. At least if they were here all night they would be warm.

John was been busy making last minute arrangements with two of the breeding partners, as they would not be taking part in the formal ceremony, John was relying on them for some final preparations for the family event. He saw his brothers drop to their knees. He finished his conversation instantly and rushed over to kneel in front of them knees touching. Looking at the lost expressions John stated with shock, “You don’t think we’d leave you here do you!! Oh heck you did! I’m *so* sorry!” He put a gentle hand on a knee each and stated, “Daniel is sleeping in Master’s room to keep watch and help him to the funeral. You can have Dan’s room, until we sort you one when all the dust settles here. We’re pretty much all doubling up anyway with all the extras. I mean we’ve got as many as we can inside, the rest have just had to roughit with camp beds in the marquee. He left the key for you… here.” John pushed the key into Simon’s palm and led them to their abode. Noting the men were still uncomfortable about something, and noting Simon’s nervous habit, he took a punt. “Look, would you like my handler to help you tomorrow? He’ll be more than happy to take the leads and let you feel a bit more ‘normal’ yeah?”

Both men almost did themselves an injury they nodded with such enthusiasm. At some level deep within himself, Simon knew it was ridiculous to need such a person, but after so long being told what to do and being led, of knowing when to kneel and accept what was dealt, the idea of decision making or simply walking without someone in front was utterly terrifying. To do be expected to decide and deal for themselves when they were emotional as well, would be most unwise.

………………………………..
Daniel ascended the steps to his Master’s bedroom slowly. He was exhausted and it was only the wee hours of funeral day.

Entering the suite, he nodded to Stan, allowing the gentle demon to also get some rest (he was on duty with the seven to ten year old children at the funeral, that would test the patience of a saint let alone a demon…!).

Master was finally asleep, he noted the sweater, whose it had been and also that the electric blanket was still on ‘one’. He longed to crawl into the bed with Master, but it was *not* his place and certainly not tonight. He tugged a huge extra blanket from the cupboard and took the cushions from the chairs then settled down on the rug before the heater for a few hours’ rest.