Truth Denied
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Spike(William)/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
64
Views:
22,805
Reviews:
75
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Spike(William)/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
64
Views:
22,805
Reviews:
75
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 41/62
Xander was utterly immobile, but he couldn’t say he was in the least uncomfortable. They’d managed to tie him on a hospital bed that had the head and knees lifted, cradling him perfectly. The hospital bed felt like it was made out of air, and the restraints were obviously meant for long term wear; he couldn’t move an inch! He could only roll his head from side to side, which is what he did, from looking at the blood stained wall hanging behind the altar he was on top of, out into the crowd of bowed, hooded, chanting monks. Well, Xander assumed they were monks, he couldn’t think why else they’d be wearing such ridiculous robes.
He’d tried talking with them when he woke up, then he started yelling, then he got hoarse. Eventually Ethan came and gave him a drink from a sports bottle; he was so thirsty, he didn’t stop to think it might be drugged until the taste registered. It was herbal, some kind of tea, but by the time he had enough sense to spit it out, Ethan had squirted most of the bottle down his throat. He swallowed rather than choke on it, and found it very refreshing.
“Ethan? Ethan, get me out of here! Ethan!” He called after the dark mage as he retreated purposefully behind a shadow, ignoring him.
After struggling for a while, Xander collapsed, still. For not being blindfolded or gagged, none of it was doing him any good! He looked around madly, and all he could tell was that everything outside of the direct candlelight was utter darkness. There was no telling what was out there, and he was always startled when someone new appeared to kneel at this altar and start chanting, but they always seemed like they knew where they were going so it couldn’t be completely pitch black… could it?
He grunted and thrust his body madly against the restraints, and found only his hips thrusting wildly into the air.
The chanting grew in volume and excitement, and he looked over, quirking an eyebrow. The chanting grew rhythmic, like a wave breaking the shore, pulsing. He lowered his hips and listened. They sounded more anxious, but they still were rhythmic, chanting, like a caress.
Xander almost smiled, his eyes rolled back in his head, and the chanting, oh the chanting just took over his body. He felt their breath on his skin, warm, sensual, caressing his entire nude form, making him shiver in anticipation. Fuzzily a thought swam to the surface tea and he was lost again.
The chanting formed hands in his mind’s eye, hands that caressed him, massaged him, eased away his worries of the day…. Then, without his knowledge, understanding or acceptance, he felt something stirring deep in his loins. It was a weird stirring, empty. Normally he was filled with an emotion: lust, embarrassment, need, something, but all he felt now was the chanting and the chanting wasn’t a feeling!
He felt heat, heat all over his body, building from deep inside him and blossoming outward, towards his skin, but it didn’t make it. It went out and down and spiraled down to his cock, this heat, this intense gravity that he’d never felt before.
He gasped, feeling a hot breath on his cock, covering it, teasing it. He’d never been so approached before, and he liiiiked it. He threw his head back and bucked his hips, feeling blood rush to his cock, filling it, stretching it… it had been so long since anything had felt good!
He felt a tongue teasing him, tickling him, and he moaned, tossing his head from side to side, whimpering in need. His cock hardened fully and pulsed, leaking against his stomach as he was mercilessly taunted.
Finally, after what felt like an eon of teasing and no release, Xander had to look down and see what was going on. He tried to lift his head, but he felt dizzy, very stoned, but he fought for it and fought to open his eyes to little slits.
What he saw made him scream.
There were the monks, all of them, standing over him, hoods back, hands on bloody cocks, and they were all that skinless demon, looking hideous as they reached the same hardness that Xander had reached. They were all chanting, almost haltingly. They were close, they just needed a little more and down there, stimulating him, making him feel things he hadn’t felt since… since Anya… was Ethan Rayne.
He screamed and deflated, making all the demons hiss, one charging Ethan, picking him up, and throwing him through the shadows, heading after him. This wasn’t what they’d paid him for and he had severely displeased them, Xander guessed. Xander just sobbed as he lay there. The spell was broken, the chanting over, he shook and shuddered, whimpering in fear even as his head swam with the drugged tea….
He’d tried talking with them when he woke up, then he started yelling, then he got hoarse. Eventually Ethan came and gave him a drink from a sports bottle; he was so thirsty, he didn’t stop to think it might be drugged until the taste registered. It was herbal, some kind of tea, but by the time he had enough sense to spit it out, Ethan had squirted most of the bottle down his throat. He swallowed rather than choke on it, and found it very refreshing.
“Ethan? Ethan, get me out of here! Ethan!” He called after the dark mage as he retreated purposefully behind a shadow, ignoring him.
After struggling for a while, Xander collapsed, still. For not being blindfolded or gagged, none of it was doing him any good! He looked around madly, and all he could tell was that everything outside of the direct candlelight was utter darkness. There was no telling what was out there, and he was always startled when someone new appeared to kneel at this altar and start chanting, but they always seemed like they knew where they were going so it couldn’t be completely pitch black… could it?
He grunted and thrust his body madly against the restraints, and found only his hips thrusting wildly into the air.
The chanting grew in volume and excitement, and he looked over, quirking an eyebrow. The chanting grew rhythmic, like a wave breaking the shore, pulsing. He lowered his hips and listened. They sounded more anxious, but they still were rhythmic, chanting, like a caress.
Xander almost smiled, his eyes rolled back in his head, and the chanting, oh the chanting just took over his body. He felt their breath on his skin, warm, sensual, caressing his entire nude form, making him shiver in anticipation. Fuzzily a thought swam to the surface tea and he was lost again.
The chanting formed hands in his mind’s eye, hands that caressed him, massaged him, eased away his worries of the day…. Then, without his knowledge, understanding or acceptance, he felt something stirring deep in his loins. It was a weird stirring, empty. Normally he was filled with an emotion: lust, embarrassment, need, something, but all he felt now was the chanting and the chanting wasn’t a feeling!
He felt heat, heat all over his body, building from deep inside him and blossoming outward, towards his skin, but it didn’t make it. It went out and down and spiraled down to his cock, this heat, this intense gravity that he’d never felt before.
He gasped, feeling a hot breath on his cock, covering it, teasing it. He’d never been so approached before, and he liiiiked it. He threw his head back and bucked his hips, feeling blood rush to his cock, filling it, stretching it… it had been so long since anything had felt good!
He felt a tongue teasing him, tickling him, and he moaned, tossing his head from side to side, whimpering in need. His cock hardened fully and pulsed, leaking against his stomach as he was mercilessly taunted.
Finally, after what felt like an eon of teasing and no release, Xander had to look down and see what was going on. He tried to lift his head, but he felt dizzy, very stoned, but he fought for it and fought to open his eyes to little slits.
What he saw made him scream.
There were the monks, all of them, standing over him, hoods back, hands on bloody cocks, and they were all that skinless demon, looking hideous as they reached the same hardness that Xander had reached. They were all chanting, almost haltingly. They were close, they just needed a little more and down there, stimulating him, making him feel things he hadn’t felt since… since Anya… was Ethan Rayne.
He screamed and deflated, making all the demons hiss, one charging Ethan, picking him up, and throwing him through the shadows, heading after him. This wasn’t what they’d paid him for and he had severely displeased them, Xander guessed. Xander just sobbed as he lay there. The spell was broken, the chanting over, he shook and shuddered, whimpering in fear even as his head swam with the drugged tea….