Puppy Love
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Slash - Male/Male › Spike(William)/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
54
Views:
41,616
Reviews:
119
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Slash - Male/Male › Spike(William)/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
54
Views:
41,616
Reviews:
119
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 11/50 - Whip
Title: Puppy Love 11/50 - Whip
Pairings: Spike/Xander
Appropriate Ratings: Hard R
Warnings: S/M, whips, bondage... This is the punishment chapter, use your imagination!
Short Summary: Puppy gets properly chastened.
Beta: LJ User Tamakin
A.N.1 This is in response to the prompt table given to me by. Thanks bunches again!
A.N.2 Okay, so... I'm taking a little longer to get chapters out. I just started a new job and am trying to find the rhythm of writing and working. Please be patient while we're in this period of adjustment. I promise, I WANT to write, I'm just often too exhausted to think, never mind think like Xander and Spike. So, apologies for the wait, but I hope you enjoy it! I was going to break this down into two parts but I couldn't find a good place to break it up and I figured those that are reading this would probably want too much rather then not enough by this point.
Comments keep my muse well fed. Please feed her, pretty please? She's been rather quiet lately.
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 content 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.
“Follow pup.”
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 lead 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 his 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 dance 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.
“W-what?”
“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 billigerant 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 way 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, 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.
Pairings: Spike/Xander
Appropriate Ratings: Hard R
Warnings: S/M, whips, bondage... This is the punishment chapter, use your imagination!
Short Summary: Puppy gets properly chastened.
Beta: LJ User Tamakin
A.N.1 This is in response to the prompt table given to me by
A.N.2 Okay, so... I'm taking a little longer to get chapters out. I just started a new job and am trying to find the rhythm of writing and working. Please be patient while we're in this period of adjustment. I promise, I WANT to write, I'm just often too exhausted to think, never mind think like Xander and Spike. So, apologies for the wait, but I hope you enjoy it! I was going to break this down into two parts but I couldn't find a good place to break it up and I figured those that are reading this would probably want too much rather then not enough by this point.
Comments keep my muse well fed. Please feed her, pretty please? She's been rather quiet lately.
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 content 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.
“Follow pup.”
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 lead 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 his 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 dance 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.
“W-what?”
“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 billigerant 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 way 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, 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.