Broken (AKA Beautiful Broken)

*


Spike must have wandered around the complex a dozen times, going from the male slave pens to the female slave pens to the exotics which included a number of lesser demons. He ordered human blood from one booth and pretzels from a second, and Xander followed silently. This was the first time his trainer wasn’t watching, and Xander found that somewhat disturbing. He had entertained any number of customers even if they weren’t allowed to use his ass, and he always knew his trainer was there to either punish or protect, but now he had to rely on Spike, and considering Spike’s attention span, that wasn’t exactly comforting. Of course the fact that Spike hated him didn’t help, so Xander worked hard to show his training and not earn any more pain than Spike already had planned for him. Eventually Spike grew tired and headed to the far side of the complex, and Xander was beginning to suspect that they were in some sort of closed mall. Soon the slaver’s booths and organ sellers gave way to closed doors and narrow hallways.

“Home sweet home,” Spike announced as he opened a door to a simple room: double bed, short dresser, one easy chair, two straight-back chairs beside a small table, two other doors other than the entrance. Spike had dropped the chain leash, so Xander went into a standard kneel.

Spike puttered for a while, putter was really the best word Xander could come up with considering that Spike moved his coat from the table to the dresser to the chair and then back to the table. Of course, Xander watched this only in subtle glances, the type allowed a slave in privacy so that the slave could better learn to serve. Of course Xander had a problem because he couldn’t learn where to put the coat away if Spike couldn’t make up his hyperactive, pea-sized brain about where it went.

"Got ta get this over with, so get your arse up on the bed." Xander obeyed immediately, getting up on the bed and going into formal position in the middle. Spike didn't have to sound so miserable. Obviously Xander wasn't going to enjoy his rape, but the least Spike could do was enjoy the moment instead of acting like he was making some great sacrifice. After all if he didn't want to use Xander sexually, he could just go for a quick whipping and then let his slave get some sleep. Spike reached over and unhooked the hip chain, tossing it on the bedside table.

"Can't exactly bugger ya like that, idiot. Do what ya did at the auction." Great, ambiguous orders with lots of chances for Xander to screw up and earn punishment. He knew there was a reason he hated the vampire. The minute that thought popped up, Xander stomped on it, pounded it into submission. Spike was Master now and he would think good thoughts of Master, at least while Master was in the room. Doing anything else just led to slip ups and beatings, so he mentally chanted 'Spike is Master, Spike is right, Spike can do no wrong,' as he slipped into the Floor position, forehead on the bed, butt on his heels.

"Not that one, git, the one with your butt up in the air." 'Spike is Master, Spike is right, Spike can do no wrong' he chanted even harder as some corner of his mind tried to tell him that Spike was a moron. He silently slid into the Present position with his knees spread, his butt up in the air and his face on the bed.

"Never thought I'd live to see Droopy Harris quiet," Spike said, as he moved around. The sounds suggested he was undressing. "Course I can't really call ya Droopy Britches any more seein' as how ya lost the britches." Spike returned to the bed and slapped a hip, but Xander simply waited. He had expected a severe punishment for misunderstanding Master's order, but Spike left it at the one slap and crawled onto the bed if the tilting of the mattress was any indication.

"So, ya haven't been buggered yet, huh?" Spike asked, but it sounded like one of those questions you didn't answer rather than a direct question requiring answer, so he kept silent as a slick finger entered him. The slick surprised him and the finger surprised him; he had expected something far drier and larger based on his observations of others' training sessions. His trainer had a habit of leaving the sleeping cages open and facing the main training arena so that the humans could benefit from watching others' mistakes. In fact, it was a standing order that he watch others' training, which left very little time for sleep, but Xander had learned to sort of break his mind in half with half watching some screaming teenager getting dry raped and the other half napping.

He breathed evenly and willed his muscles to accept the invasion. Spike quickly added a second finger, and Xander had to actually concentrate now. He had certainly suffered far greater pain. Far, far greater. Far, far, far greater, and Xander stopped there because he couldn't repeat the word far often enough to encompass the truth. But the very fact that Spike who he had tied to a chair and insulted and fought was about to take the very last bit of Xander Harris made him struggle to keep position. The training won, and Xander held position and relaxed around the two fingers, at which point a third joined in and Xander felt the burn as Spike moved in far too quick for comfort, but far slower than Xander ever expected. Slaves didn't really expect comfort after all.

The third finger hadn't been in more than a few seconds when it pulled out, and Xander waited as Spike shifted before pressing against his barely opened hole. Spike pushed in, and Xander focused on breathing even as he reminded himself of things he had endured that made this downright pleasurable. Okay, not pleasurable in that he got any pleasure out of it, but pleasurable in that he was feeling a real lack of significant pain. Spike pushed in, and Xander's position with his arms on the bed and his head down allowed him to accept Spike's cock without moving. Once Spike was in, he stopped and Xander accepted the fact that the last part of him was gone. This was his life now, and this was his function.

Spike thrust in and out several times before freezing in place. Xander mentally checked himself to make sure he hadn't broken any rules. He was holding in position, he wasn't making any noises or using internal muscles to fight against Spikes' intrusion. He was doing good, so why was Spike stopping.

"Can't bloody do this without some participation," Spike snarled. Xander's trainer may have only used fingers and small rods, but Xander had learned how to move and writhe with great relish. All Spike had to do was order it. Xander waited for the order. Instead, the two of them remained frozen on the bed, joined in the most intimate of ways. "Deaf git," Spike said with a harder hit to the hip. "Bloody move," he snapped, and Xander took that as the order even if the words were wrong. He thrust himself back, skewering himself on Spike's cock, and he must have caught Spike off guard because the vampire grunted and fell back. Xander pulled forward again, stopping when he felt just the tip of Spike's cock still in him. He may have caught Spike off guard, which actually amused him considering Spike had given the order, but now the body behind him drove into him again, and Xander squirmed invitingly.

When Spike pulled back, Xander forced himself back again, and now their coupling became a contest. Could Spike drive forward before Xander drove himself back onto Spike's body? Could Spike withdraw before Xander pulled himself forward? From the avid growling, Xander guessed that Spike was enjoying himself, and suddenly a heavy weight fell on his back and pain drove into his neck even as Xander bent his head to the side to give Spike access. Spike gave two more short thrusts even while drinking, and Xander could feel fluid rushing into him even as he felt fluid rushing out of him, and just about the time that he expected to die, Spike pulled out of both ends, flopping over onto his back on the bed.

Xander quickly moved down to clean Spike, taking one lick at the vampire's cock before a hand caught his chain and stopped him.

"Considerin' where that's been, ya might not want to do that," Spike commented, and Xander mentally snorted so loudly that for a moment he feared that the sound might have actually escaped into the world. The thought didn't bother Xander at all, in fact, considering where his mouth had been, maybe Spike should worry about having it around his cock. Nevertheless, his Master had stopped him, so Xander quietly slipped off the bed as trained, going into position next to the bed.

"Didn't feel ya finish," Spike commented, and the vampire rolled to the side of the bed, but Xander held position, his limp and uninterested cock dangling between his legs.

"Oi, ya didn't even get started," Spike said in a clear complaint. No, really? Xander found himself saying in his head. He was so sorry for not being more enthusiastic about his rape. Of course, if Spike had ordered it, he would have gotten hard, he would have even reached completion, but the vampire had to order it, and Xander felt his resentment of Spike's complaint rise high enough to threaten his training, and he forced the thought back. Spike was Master; Spike was right. He hadn't done it right. Xander felt the guilt now rise, and he struggled to turn that into acceptance. Of course he hadn't done it right, he was just a worthless slave, and he would never be as good as his Masters. He had to work harder to please his Masters. In absence of an order, Xander concentrated on keeping his form perfect, his body relaxed and motionless.

Spike got up off the bed and started pacing, lighting a cigarette Xander realized as he heard the snick of the familiar lighter. Soon he smelled the cigarette smoke he always associated with Spike. Cigarette and leather. Well now cigarette, leather, and sex Xander mused as he smelled vampire on his own body, the remains of the rape still dripping from him onto the bare floor.

"Oi, I can't bloody relax with your sorry arse in the room," Spike complained, and Xander knelt. Really, what did the vampire expect him to do? Pop up and say, 'hey, that's okay, I'll just head down to the Bronze and play some pool'? And Spike accused him of being stupid? Pot and kettle, pot and kettle. Spike stomped across the room toward a second door Xander had noticed when they first came in, and Xander found himself praying it was a bathroom. He really should have peed on the floor of the back room when he had the chance because this was getting annoying.

"In," Spike ordered, and Xander flowed to his feet and walked into the closet without comment, sinking into first position once fully inside. "Go to bloody sleep," Spike ordered and slammed the door. Xander held position for several minutes, not disobedient as much as trying to figure out how to follow that order. For six months he had dreamed of sleeping outside of a sleeping cage, but now that he faced the reality, he had no idea what rules applied. Okay, if he backed into the corner and spread his knees, he could certainly continue kneeling, but he would never be able to both sleep and keep his hands at his back without the cage's restraints.

So, he could disobey Spike's order to sleep or he could break position. Xander scooted closer to the wall and settled his butt down on his heels with his knees slightly spread. Instead of putting his hands at the small of his back, he curled them in front and lay his head down on them. On one hand, he was more comfortable than he'd been in a long time, on the other, his stomach rebelled at the thought he wasn't in proper position. Out of position was a bad, bad place to be, but on the other hand, his bladder's complaints easily outweighed any other problems, and on the other hand he just wanted to beat Spike about the ears for not giving him clearer directions, and realizing that he had run out of hands a couple of "other hands" earlier, Xander fell asleep.


"What the soddin' hell do you think your doin'?" demanded an angry voice, and Xander was awake immediately. No stretching, complaining ‘please mom five more minutes’ for him. Nope the voice called and he was awake, but today's voice seemed mighty pissed. And pissed might be a good word for it Xander realized as he smelled the urine.

A small voice suggested he slide into position, but he knew the consequences for hiding an error were worse than the consequences for the error, so he maintained his current kneel with his hip leaning against the wall far out of alignment and his arms curled in front of him making a pillow for his head. All his weight fell on one knee, and he realized that he couldn’t feel his one leg, but he could feel the itchiness of cold urine against his arms. Focusing on Spike's knees, he never realized knees could seem so angry, but Spike's knees were almost vibrating, and Xander braced himself for a serious beating.

"Get out of there," Spike ordered, and Xander struggled to rise, his one knee that had taken his weight all night buckling even as Xander struggled to bring his body under control. He quickly left the closet, but when he went to kneel, his cramping leg went out from under him sending him crashing to the ground, and Xander struggled up into position, almost crying with the need to show Spike he could do better. He forced himself to put weight on the sore leg and straighten out into a formal kneel even as the returning blood flow turned his lower leg into a series of prickling pains with one giant cramp causing a burning pain to rip down his leg. Of god if he could only straighten it and get the muscle stretched, he might be able to stop the pain, but he knew he had already earned himself enough trouble, so he stayed in position, struggling not to allow the muscle cramp to pull his leg up.

“What the bloody hell do you…” Spike started yelling, but he stopped suddenly and only then did Xander realize he was trembling. The fear of the punishment and the lack of true sleep and the pain of his leg combined to overcome his conditioning, and Xander instantly concentrated on stilling his body and bringing it back under control. Oh god, he had to show Spike he could be a good slave. He couldn’t face being returned; he couldn’t face the punishment that would go with being returned.

Xander felt his body respond despite the hunger and fear and thirst and pain because he had lived with those things so long they didn’t rule him. He kept telling himself that as he held position at Spike’s feet, praying for the vampire to keep him. Xander knew he had failed, and he would take any punishment, but the only way he had to tell Spike was to hold position and prove himself. The longer Spike stayed silent, the more Xander realized that he wasn’t going to get mercy. He was tempted to tilt his neck and invite death, but he knew he didn’t have that choice either, so he told himself to just accept whatever Spike did. Accept because that’s what slaves did.

A hand pulled him up, and Xander struggled to follow the guiding touch, but his leg cramped, and he could only limp ungracefully, knowing that with every step he failed his Master more. Spike led him into the bathroom and turned on the shower, shoving him under the cold water as the vampire grabbed a towel and put it in the sink to get it wet.

“Bloody hell, wash your filthy arse,” Spike snapped, and Xander hurried to grab soap and the cloth, unfamiliar with doing this for himself. The water made his shivering return, and he stopped a moment to bring it under control before continuing to wash the sweat and stale urine off his body. He also happily peed, the yellow flowing down the drain. Spike wasn’t a big one for human functions, so Xander decided to pee whenever he could.

“Oi, ya stupid bugger,” Spike snarled when he returned to the bathroom, and Xander stilled, caught between wanting to go into a punishment position to show his regret and wanting to continue washing as ordered. He hadn’t decided yet when a hand reached in the shower for the temperature knob, moving toward the middle so that the water turned pleasantly warm. Spike stormed out of the room again, and Xander finished his work quickly. He really wanted to drink some of the wonderful water running over his body, but if his Master wanted him to have water, he would have given it, so Xander resisted the urge to disobey. Not sure whether he was supposed to get out or wait, Xander eventually settled for turning off the water and kneeling in the shower stall, his hair dripping onto the shower floor one plop at a time.

“Get your arse out here,” yelled a familiar voice, and Xander rose and went to his Master, kneeling down with his head on the ground by Spike’s foot and his hands held behind his back properly.

“What the soddin’ hell were ya thinkin’ peein’ on the floor like some child with the toilet not twenty feet away? Ya knew where it was ‘cause I watched you checkin’ every corner of the room when we walked in.” Xander just waited for Spike to shut up and start the punishment. He didn’t need the vampire to remind him that once upon a time he could open doors and he could decide to use a toilet, and he could talk to people and tell them he needed to use the bathroom. So as far as he was concerned the vampire could just shut up and get the whipping over with because he didn’t need to hear it.

“Wot, not got anythin’ ta say about that, wanker?” Xander considered a respectful ‘No, Master,’ but the tone sounded rhetorical and he didn’t need to buy any more trouble. “Bloody hell, you really don’t have anythin’ ta say, do ya?” Spike tone had gone from murderous to sarcastic, but Xander simply waited for the order to move into position. He hoped the vampire whipped his backside because he hated the stomach whippings; they made it so difficult to hold proper position when kneeling to the floor or even kneeling down. Didn’t really matter what he wanted though.

Spike just snorted and left the room, so Xander waited. The vampire obviously wanted to consider his options while showering, and while Xander hated waiting for punishment—it always ended up being so much worse—he knew that Spike would have to come up with a proper punishment for such bad behavior, especially considering this was Xander’s first full day with him.

When Spike came out of the shower, he banged around the room cursing and slamming drawers. Normally Xander would have spent his first morning surreptitiously watching his Master so that he could learn to serve, but Xander held the formal position with his forehead to the cold wood floor as Spike tended to himself. Inside Xander railed because he would never be able to prove his value as a slave if Spike didn’t punish him and then let him do his work, but outside he remained passive of his Master’s decision. When Spike finished, Xander heard heavy steps stop right behind him, but instead of the sharp crack of a whip, he only felt Spike hand reach under him to grab his leash chain before the vampire stormed out of their rooms, his slave in tow.

Xander followed silently even though he could have screamed once he noticed their direction. He wanted to throw himself at Spike's feet and promise to do better, promise to follow the rules, promise anything to just not go back to his trainer. He'd seen what happened to the slaves that got returned, and Xander had to order himself to just accept. Accept and survive. That's all that mattered and if Spike chose to return him now that he'd gotten his rape and revenge, Xander didn't have the right to beg anything else from the vampire. Of course, Spike might not know just how much revenge he was getting, Xander mused. The stupid vampire might just think his trainer would shove him back into the sale, but Xander knew better.

They reached an area defined by a red line on the ground, and various humans lined the wall, a few chained in provocative positions, but most in perfect kneeling forms. The other booths had proudly displayed humans in chains and cages, terrified and only partially trained, but Xander’s trainer always told visitors that he wouldn’t sell a slave until it had broken so thoroughly that it would kneel in position silent and respectful until it dropped dead. "Yes, can I help you?" asked a familiar voice, and Xander sank to his knees at his Master's feet, careful to keep perfect form, especially under the eyes of his trainer.

"Are you that one that trained 'im?" Spike asked with a jerk to the chain, and Xander mentally chanted his little acceptance mantra louder, loud enough to drown the feelings of rejection and pain. He wasn't enough: not good enough, not sexy enough, not smart enough or fast enough or obedient enough to even keep a Master. Slaves like that ended up with trainers; slaves like that ended up being the example used to train more obedient humans. Xander had no doubt just how much suffering he was about to endure.

"Did he displease?" asked that voice, and Xander focused on his breathing, making himself the perfect example of obedience in the hopes of taking one or two lashes off the end of the beating he was about to get. God, he only hoped it would just be a beating.

"No, just never really had one like this before," Spike said even as he stepped in front of Xander, and the very act of stepping between him and the trainer, in Xander's mind, put Spike at the center of his universe. The trainer laughed.

"He's yours vampire. I'm not about to punish someone else's slave, but if you're returning him for displeasing you, I can't give a full refund considering I can smell you in him. No longer the pretty little virgin, is he?" Xander kept his eyes focused on the back of Spike's knees. Just focus on Spike, he told himself.

"He's mine, and he'll soddin' stay mine. Just don't know how ta take care of a human like this, and I can't even bloody touch him without him tuckin' himself into some new position. The trainer truly laughed at that.

"You have no idea how much effort it took to get him to respond, and now he has a Master who's annoyed. How ironic." Xander went back to his inner dialogue now that he realized Spike wasn't selling him back. Yep. Ironic like him begging for Spike's protection. Ironic like Xander Harris being called pretty. Ironic like his own encounter with Faith, which came damn close to rape, being used to up his value so that someone else would pay even more money for the privilege of raping him again.

"Just show me the commands so I can soddin' well avoid them when I'm tryin' ta enjoy my pet," Spike snarled, and the trainer's laugh drew suddenly thin. Xander tried not to enjoy the sound of his trainer's discomfort because he couldn't afford such disrespectful thoughts, but he couldn't suppress all the enjoyment.

"May I?" his trainer asked, and Xander felt the chain being handed over without looking up. He shifted so that he now knelt at his trainer's feel. "First Position," his trainer explained as he began pointing out Xander's posture. Once he had completed a complete critique of Xander's form, Xander felt the tap at his head, and he went into the down position. His trainer then explained the rules and forms for that position, explaining the verbal and the tap commands. His trainer continued with each position, each time making sure Spike knew the signs of laziness or poor form that deserved punishment. Xander fell into the rhythm of following the taps, allowing his mind to wander as his body performed the familiar forms, the taps interspersed with rewarding rubs or corrective swats where earned.

Spike clearly didn't have his chip, and yet the vampire was showing a real lack of interest in the whole torture thing. Xander didn't get it. And if Spike didn't know how to care for a trained slave, why was he at a closed auction for trained slaves? And considering that last he’d seen Spike, the vampire had been stealing five dollar bills out of wallets at Scoobie meetings, where the hell did he get enough to buy a slave? And what about the others? Were the initiative still making problems because finding Riley turned into a vampire did suggest that all was not right in Sunnydale. He followed his trainer in response to a shoulder touch, actually disturbed by the lack of swinging chains because without them, his perfect rolling gait couldn't be judged. His trainer must have agreed because he ordered Xander to stand as he fastened a new chain low around his hips, the side chains dangling from his hip to his knee. This time when his trainer took off walking, Xander flowed after him, the light chains dancing in a perfect pattern as Xander showed off his walk. See Spike? No need to return the slave. Look at the pretty walk.

His trainer returned to Spike, and Xander sank to his knees. When the trainer held out the chain and Spike took it, wrapping the end around his fist as if he would never let go, Xander really had to control his tears of relief as he shifted into position at Spike's feet.

"Let's see you put him through his paces," the trainer's voice suggested, and Xander felt the first meaningful command from Spike. He focused everything into making his form perfect, remembering the small corrections from his trainer earlier. This was his only way of showing his gratitude and relief, and he wanted Spike to know, so he poured everything into keeping his back straight, his hips aligned, and his shoulders back as he went from position to position. When Spike started the heel walk, Xander kept his pace perfectly even, making the chains wrap around his legs and then spring back without any jarring or tangling. Spike stopped and Xander slid into position, feeling a light sweat from both the stress of being perfect and the length of the session.

"So as long as I don't tap him, he'll sit still for my touch?" Spike asked even as a slim hand reached down and ran though Xander's thick hair. The caress was clearly not a tap, so Xander remained in place, allowing his Master to touch as he wished, for the first time feeling safe that he was obeying Master and Master appreciated his obedience.

"I've found he reacts quite well to touch as reward. Other animals may require food rewards, but the giving or the withholding of touch is particularly effective with your boy," his trainer explained with the fond voice one normally used for a well-behaved dog.

"And what about carin' for him? Been a while since I've been human myself."

"He's a pretty easy one to take care of. I usually feed him once a day and give him water in the morning and at night." Xander felt the hand in his hair tighten, and Xander wondered what Spike wanted, but in the absence of a command he remained in position.

"And sleepin'?" Spike asked, and Xander understood Spike's concern. He'd been really angry, and Xander couldn't blame him.

"He's adapted to the sleeping cage. Did he give you trouble last night because I'm sure he remembers his lessons on the foolishness of fighting the cage." The trainer's voice took on dark tones, but Xander comforted himself with the fact that the trainer no longer had power over him. He was Spike's so he only needed to please Spike.

"Oi, don't have a cage and he didn't sleep very well last night," Spike said ambiguously, and Xander found himself grateful that the vampire didn't tell his trainer how poorly he had performed what with the whole being out of position. Peeing on himself didn't really bother him, but he didn't want his trainer to think that he didn't respect his Master, and breaking position would certainly be a sign of disrespect.

"I'm sure he didn't sleep well then," his trainer said knowingly. "They are animals of habit, and I doubt he even knew what to do without a cage. Xander really resented the fact that his trainer understood him so well. "I have his old cage here, and I'd be happy to sell it for a very reasonable price." The trainer started to walk away, and Spike followed, a touch on the shoulder keeping Xander in close heel even without the chain still clutched in Spike’s fist. Xander wasn't surprised when the trainer led them from the booth to the back area where slave cages lined the wall. Xander could tell from the sounds that his trainer had taken down a cage and placed it on the floor.

"Tap the top of the cage and give him the command 'in'," the trainer suggested.

"Mate, there is no way in soddin’ hell he’s goin’ ta fit in that," Spike said, and Xander found his inner voice laughing and cheering Spike on. Obviously Xander knew he'd fit, but the first time he had been faced with that cage, he had said almost exactly the same words.

"This is *his* cage. He's slept in here for the last six months, and I assure you he fits just fine." Spike must have doubted his trainer's words because there was a long pause before Xander heard the metallic tap on the cage and his Master's command.

"In," Spike said, and Xander turned so that his back was to the cage before folding into the ‘floor’ position. With his hands behind his back, he wormed his way into the cage butt first, folding his torso tightly down onto his knees as he wiggled back.

"Now you always want to make sure you keep an eye on them as they impale themselves. Some will try to squeeze in under the rod, and they can actually hurt themselves."

"Impale?" Spike asked in a strange voice, and Xander could hear him step up even as Xander continued working his way back into the cage, the rod at the back sliding into his hole so that he couldn't wiggle from side to side at all. "Wot the...?" he heard the shock in the vampire's voice, and he wondered how Spike was going to react to the cage's way of keeping his front half equally still. Xander pressed back until he could feel his feet slip into the slot at the back and the bars press into his buttocks. Xander felt the brackets close over his ankles and then the wrist strap looped around his wrists and pulled his arms tight to the top of the cage.

When the trainer appeared in his vision with the oddly deformed t-shaped bar, Xander opened his mouth and swallowed as the thin bar slid down his throat until a chin support slipped under his chin, and the rubber mouth form slipped under his front teeth. At this point the thicker bar snapped into place on the front of the cage, and his trainer easily lifted the cage to a table, leaving Xander to wonder if all demons were stronger than humans. Xander couldn’t move any part of his body except fingers and toes, and since he’d once seen the fingers cut off a slave who refused to stop flexing his hands, he’d learned not to move those either.

Xander relaxed as the tight cage made sure that his body stayed in position no matter what. So many days when he’d been forced to spend hours practicing perfect positions, Xander had actually longed for the cage where he could let himself sag and rest. In some ways, the cage had become his safe place since the rod down his throat prevented him from making any sound or even moving his head in the slightest, and so often it was his unguarded whispered words or his shrugs or his snorts of disgust that had gotten him beaten. The cage let him relax and gave him permission to not fight because fighting was impossible.

Xander's orders included actively watching anything taking place when he was caged, and for the first time, he could really look up into Spike's face. And boy didn’t Spike look shocked, which amused Xander considering that Spike had tortured people with railroad spikes. Heck, the whole sticking hot pokers into Angel thing far outweighed a bit cramped sleeping.

"This type of cage is perfect because the open front allows you to reach in for either punishment or reward and the tight fit actually helps the animal because he can relax and doesn't have to worry about holding position," his trainer explained in a solicitous lecture mode. "You always want to make sure that the sides are tight enough that you can't fit more than a single finger between the bars and their skin, but don't make the sides so tight that the animal's flesh bulges out between the bars, that's just cruel." And again with the irony, Xander thought to himself as he lay curled in a cage with rods shoved in either end holding him perfectly still. Yeah, don't want to be cruel to the poor little 'animals,' Xander thought, but he simply watched as Spike's hand reached out and touched his cheek tentatively, which surprised him because he'd never seen Spike as a particularly tentative person.

"In untrained slaves, getting the front on can be quite difficult, but with a sweet thing like your boy, it's fairly easy. He knows to keep his head in position and swallows to help the rod slide into place. You try." Xander opened his mouth wider so the mouth piece could easily slide out with the rod, and then his trainer handed the contraption to Spike. Spike looked at the thing for a minute before stepping up. Xander opened his mouth as the rod entered, but his trainer stopped Spike, giving him advice about angles and positioning even as Xander knelt in his cage with his mouth gaping, only the tip of the rod inside his mouth and drool gathering at the corner of his mouth.

By the time Spike had learned enough to close the front piece, locking the sides of the bar into place, Xander could feel the drool dripping off the corners of his mouth.

"Messy animals." His trainer made a disapproving noise as he absently wiped the corners of Xander's mouth.

"Yeah, well that's how they are, innit?" Spike commented as he slid the bar out again. Xander thought Spike would practice, but the vampire set it to the side and unbuckled his ankles and wrists before giving him a sharp tap on the top of his head. Xander happily squirmed forward, eager to reach Spike's side, especially since the order had been for kneel down, the most comfortable of the poses. By the time Xander reached Spike's side, he could almost feel Spike's aggravation through his skin, and Xander trembled with fear that he wasn't fast enough, that Spike would withdraw his protection and give him back to his trainer.

Instead Spike just stormed away without even a touch on Xander's shoulder or picking up the leash, leaving Xander motionless on the floor waiting. Xander could hear his trainer clucking disapprovingly, and he panicked that he had missed a command, but he couldn't remember a tap or a command to heel, so he stayed in place, quietly dying. That and quietly killing Spike for leaving him behind in this place with this demon. And quietly hoping that Spike would come back for him, and when he reached a point that he found himself praying for fangless to come get him, he knew that his suspicion about being broken was more fact that suspicion, but he couldn't really change that now.

An aggravated voice yelled, "Bloody hell, heel," and Xander immediately stood as gracefully as possible and trotted in the direction of his Master's voice, his chains merrily swinging. He found Spike smoking just outside his trainer's booth, and Xander went to his knees at Spike's feet.

"Six bloody months in that," Spike said, and Xander remained motionless while thinking things like, 'Well, duh. Did you think someone kidnapped me in order to set me up in a penthouse apartment with a couple of playboy bunnies?' Xander felt a touch at his head, and he went into kneel down position right before the touch returned, this time a firmer caress, clearly not a command as much as just a Master enjoying the feel of his slave.

"Know we had a bad night of it," Spike started, and Xander resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Or at least felt the urge even though the desire was faint enough to not really provide much resistance. "Not sure about that thing though. Tell me, do ya want me ta get it?" Spike asked, and Xander's mind instantly went into overdrive. He was a slave, he didn't have the right to want anything, but he was a slave and he had to answer his Master's questions. The Xander Harris part of him wanted to scream at the vampire, while the rest of his brain chased itself and tried to figure out what command to violate. Which would come with less punishment, he wondered.

He hadn't figured out how to answer that when he heard Spike sigh, the hand withdrawing, and Xander knew he had failed, he had waited too long and disappointed his Master. Locked into position, he didn't know how to show Spike he was sorry except by keeping his posture.

"Guess ya can't answer that. My decision as your Master, huh? Have ta say, when I saw you trot out on stage, I didn't think you'd take this so serious, mate." Spike stopped talking, and Xander waited. "Tell ya what. I want to do whatever will keep ya from goin' as nutty as Dru, so if you answer no, I'll assume that you can learn how ta sleep without last night's problems. If you answer yes, I'll assume that you're comfortable sleeping in the cage and can’t really deal with learnin’ a new rule right now." Xander thought about that. His Master didn't want problems in the morning, but he also didn't want Xander to start acting crazy, no matter that Xander suspected he already was crazy. So Spike wanted to know how to best make sure his slave would behave.

"So, do I go back and buy that thing?" Spike asked quietly.

"Yes please, Master." Xander whispered, and realized that these were his first words to his Master. From Spike's silence, he suspected that he had chosen wrong, nearly twisting in pain at the thought he had failed some test. But Spike simply touched his shoulder and started back for his trainer's room, Xander following at heel.