Cretian Escape
folder
AtS/BtVS Crossovers › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
3,723
Reviews:
85
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
AtS/BtVS Crossovers › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
19
Views:
3,723
Reviews:
85
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS) or Angel, the Series (AtS); nor any of the characters from them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
A Slayer Cometh
Chapter 5: A Slayer Cometh
In the Sepatucci mansion, Vassilious walked through Argonia’s so-called throne room as he headed to one of the antechambers. He was followed by two minions dragging a young male between them. Dinner time for the mistress. One part of her room was dedicated to torture, one of his mistress’s finely honed skills which she took great pleasure. Thinking of her other great pleasure, he put his hands on the large, thick door, and paused, readying himself to push the door open and let himself in. Luckily he had good news, and she would thankfully be happy. However, making sure that his mistress was happy was only a minor problem and something he would gladly do. The larger problem was not the torture going on, which he also enjoyed from time to time inflicted on enemies, but the other possible scene behind that door. He had been a warlock before he was turned, and now wished that he could whisk the scene away like a broom sweeping dirt outside.
For one hundred and thirty-one years, Vassus hus had traveled with his sire, Fredrick, and he had thought he’d seen it all. But he found out that his experience was sorely lacking. Understand, his sire had loved women, any type of women, and he had brought women into his bed frequently. And Vassilious had agreed with his master on that point. He had been heterosexual as a human and had remained one as a vampire. Even so, in over a century of his demonic existence, he had seen many various ways of unlife.
Then Argonia had killed his sire, pulling off all of Fredrick’s appendages before setting him on fire, and then when she took him on as a vassal, he saw even more varieties of sexual appetites. So, now after fourteen years of serving Argonia, in the antechamber he expected to see another one of her orgies. He had come to understand that other people enjoyed themselves that way. He accepted that some people enjoyed being with same or different sexes. Fine. He understood that they might like to be with both, and that was Argonia’s category many times over. Still fine – at first. He fell in love with his mistress at first sight and therefore accepted her behaviors. But still, he was only attracted to females which proved to be disastrous while being part of her clan. At the insistence of his beloved mistress, Vassilious was determined to try every way, every how, and every where. So he had leaped in feet first, sure that his love’s sexual appetite was the best possible way. But what he found out was, to use a well used expression, “to each his or her own.” But all roads came back to one. Argonia. He loved her with his whole dead heart, and therefore he would endure watching her with many others, which was becoming harder and harder. Knowing this, he could easily imagine what could be going on in the chamber, and it was not what he wanted to see. Taking an unneeded deep breath, he pushed the door open.
When he first entered, he signaled the ones dragging the male victim to take a young sorely used vampire off the meat hooks hanging from the ceiling and replace him with the fresh meat. “Put the vampire in his cell until he heals. Then we will bring him back for our mistress to play with again.” The unfortunate vampire was a spy from the Eucleus clan from Greece. Now the spy was covered in wicked looking burns due to Argonia’s specialty of burning her victim without setting him or her on fire. Just a lot of lovely blistering, oozing wounds. Vassilious saw nothing wrong with a little play with another rival vampire, but just didn’t see the fun in playing with his own food. He left Argonia to that alone.
Near the meat hooks, Argonia lay propped up in the center of a large, intricately carved bed. Large pillows littered the room as well as various sex toys and torture tools the master of the clan enjoyed. Whips, paddles, hand cuffs, dildos of various shapes and sizes, large lighters, fire irons, scalpels, and much more. Argonia’s head was thrown back, red hair falling all around her as a vampiress was enthusiastically working over the mistress’ clit with her tongue while another male was fucking the brunette vampiress from behind. At the same time, the mistress was pumping with her hand around the large cock of a blonde vampire standing next to her. This same male was leaning down, kissing his mistress’ open mouth. To the side, two other vampires were lying on the pillows, eagerly sucking on the other’s cock. Argonia enjoyed a good show.
Vassilious fought to keep his expression blank. The sight, though not uncommon of his beloved with five other people, cut him deep. “Mistress…Mistress Argonia, here is your dinner.”
“Fine, hook him up and leave us. This vampire’s cock is quite tasty, but you may have a turn tomorrow.” She turned, and with a firm grip, stroked the well endowed vampire one more time before engulfing his shaft with her mouth.
The muscles of Vassilious’ jaw worked furiously before he spoke again. “Sorry to disturb, Mistress, but…”
“Then this had better be good, or you and I can have a session with my favorite whip instead all this oral yumminess.”
“It is. It is very important.” At least now Argonia no longer had a prick other than his own in her mouth.
“So, spill already. Oh, no, not you, big fellow. You can’t blow your wad and gl lil limp on me yet.” She gave the vampire’s penis a kiss on the tip.
Sickened, Vassilious prayed that the following information would shift her attention back to him. “Your spy in Cleveland says that the Watchers Council is dispatching another slayer to Crete.”
Argonia gave a little laugh and waved off the vampire pumping into the girl between her legs. “That’s important? The current one is mostly killing fledglings, which we can always make more. This new slayer will do the same. Only that fucking vampire out there is hurting our number of elders. Even with a bounty out on his head, we can’t even find out what he looks like because his prey never escapes him to come back and tell. All we know is that he is a traitor to his own kind, telling us that he is a vampire, and we know that little bit from overhearing the slayer and her watcher.” Argonia waved Vassilious off with a flick of her wrist before looking down at the girl between her legs. “Give my clit a little nip, honey. Ah, ah, yes…again…”
“Mistress, that’s why they are sending not just any slayer. Word is that this slayer was carefully chosen and powerful. Word is that this slayer is one of the slayers that teach at their academy.” Vassilious watched he dhe deep-throated the young vampire. His jealousy boiled, and his voice came out harsher than he would have liked. “Mistress Argonia, if the rumors are correct, they are sending either the Sunnydale Slayer or the Rogue Slayer. Probably the Rogue Slayer since the other one doesn’t leave the Watchers Council anymore.”
She pulled back so fast that the male vampire yelped when her teeth scraped along the sensitive skin of his cock. “Really?...No, you’re right this time. The Sunnydale Slayer doesn’t leave that piece of shit academy, so that would leave us with the Rogue Slayer. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? We have plans to make.” Roughly shoving the girl between her legs aside, she grabbed a robe and signaled Vassilious to follow.
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November 4, 2005
Spike knew that the Sepatucci Clan was growing increasingly bold and were proving to be smart. The minions sent out to look for food for their master’s inner circle were no longer staying in the limits of the island of Crete, knowing that if they killed too many on such a small island, it would be too obvious to loc local authorities. Not that the police would do the clan any harm, but they could make the humans much more cautious and stay away from clubs and various areas. So the minions began taking discrete boat rides to cities such as Yithion and Kalamata on mainland Greece, to kidnap humans and bring the fresh meals back to their elders.
The changing situation was making Spike anxious, driving him to seek out more information. He frequented Nota-Bene Pub, a demon bar known to not be very sympathetic to the Sepatucci vamps; accordingly, rumors about the clan flowed like a Nascar on a race track. Then the rumor mill went into overdrive when word started racing around the city that, due to the growing Sepatucci clan, a slayer from the new Watcher’s Council had been dispatched to Crete. When he heard that news from his best informant, Spike raised his scared eyebrow but didn’t speak a word. The council must be taking the clan’s resurgence seriously, as they should. Two slayers along with him surreptitiously helping should take care of the situation. First make a dent in the population and then take out the master when he was not so well protected. Then the clan would start falling apart and finally disband. Taking out the strays would be like shooting rabid dogs in a cage.
Naturally on a Friday night, the pub was alive with conversations and speculations. But when word started to circulate that the slayer’s plane landed at Irakleio Airport, the bartender could hardly hear Spike order his AB negative over the den of the crowd. After being on the island for a while, Spike knew that Gen, the slayer originally assigned to Crete, was good but still relatively a novice. Since Spike knew Buffy’s watcher was now head of new new Watcher’s Council, he was sure Rupert’s choice of slayer to send would be meticulously thought out. That anal retentive bugger. The newly arrived slayer would undoubtedly be good but also experienced. Hopefully, this slayer’s abilities would be pushing the side of great. Since he knew Buffy was in LA with Mr. Brow Man, leaving Faith to watch over the Hellmouth in Cleveland, he couldn’t help but wonder if this slayer was one of the girls that he helped Buffy train. He had no idea how many had survived that final battle in Sunnydale since he hadn’t himself, but those should be experienced sixteen months later. Regardless of who the slayer was, he was going to steer clear. Wouldn’t do for the “fake William the Bloody of Crete,” his moniker given to him by the local demons, to be recognized by a slayer as the real Spike.
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When Gen was patrolling, hers and Spike’s paths only occasionally crossed; those times he caught site of her, he helped if he could but kept his distance. He often hit the pubs and clubs in search of prey. Of course, they were considerably more fun than the cemeteries and ruins, which gave him too much time to think about the past. So he would go inside, have a couple of drinks, enjoy watching the women dancing, and idly wait for a vampire to slip up and cross his path.
There were only two real drawbacks to the bars. One was the perchance of the island’s clubs for techno-music. Definitely not his preferred style. The second was more sweet and sour. The sour was that sometimes a blonde dancing would remind him of Buffy just as he had seen her for the first time, dancing in the Bronze. Those times brought the memories rushing back like snapshots. Those were the sweet and sour. He would order a stiff drink and watch the pleasure/painful slide show with Buffy in the starring roll and Dawn co-starring. He could actually laugh when he saw himself running down the Sunnydale welcome sign - twice, meeting the anointed brat, frying the anointed brat, and promising to bag his third slayer. Actually he had bagged her mentally and stored her away in his heart. Trying to kill her in actuality was something his soul bothered him about, but he pushed that back into a corner. If he hadn’t wanted to kill her, he would have never gotten the chip and then never got to know her. He remembered the awe and joy that she was the one that made the decision to have it removed and not replaced. Looking back now, he suspected that he would never have actually killed her anyway. He had loved fighting her too much, Spike thought with a smile. Subsequently he watched his memories of first meeting Joyce, later having hot coco with Joyce when Dru broke up with him, breaking into the Magic Box with Dawn, and even with the pain of Buffy dying; he loved the memories of taking care of the Bit over that summer. The rest of the memories, the intimate ones with Buffy, he reserved for later during the day in the privacy of his flat. The slayer that he started out hating and ended up loving could be seen in every one of his dreams in the night and in the day.
Even the happy memories turned sad by the end of the night. For some unknown reason, this night really bit into his soul. All he could see was Buffy in the Bronze. Buffy dancing with Xander, Buffy talking with her friends, Buffy playing pool with him, and Buffy kissing him by the staircase. He could see the tears start shimmering in front of his vision. “Bloody hell, going to cry like a bleedin’ babe in the middle of a club. So much for the big bad.”
As he shook his tears away, much to his relief, he would usually spot a vampire leaving with his or her “dinner.” Spike would follow. If they didn’t sin tin the first dark walkway so he could dust the git, he would track them by the roadways or by roof tops until he found a good location to attack. He would try his best to send the prey scurrying away before his stake struck home on the daft vamp. Then he would have a smoke on the way back to the club or to another club, whatever struck his fancy, and he would start the process again. Hopefully without the tears. A vampire could hope, couldn’t he? Sad. So sad. Unlike others, Spike’s hope was to stay dry-eyed in public instead of hoping for a future and happiness. Maybe a hope or two for future but not a hope for happiness. Just existence and pain.
&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&
TBC
Please, please, reviews needed. Let me know how this story is going.
Thanks
Dana
In the Sepatucci mansion, Vassilious walked through Argonia’s so-called throne room as he headed to one of the antechambers. He was followed by two minions dragging a young male between them. Dinner time for the mistress. One part of her room was dedicated to torture, one of his mistress’s finely honed skills which she took great pleasure. Thinking of her other great pleasure, he put his hands on the large, thick door, and paused, readying himself to push the door open and let himself in. Luckily he had good news, and she would thankfully be happy. However, making sure that his mistress was happy was only a minor problem and something he would gladly do. The larger problem was not the torture going on, which he also enjoyed from time to time inflicted on enemies, but the other possible scene behind that door. He had been a warlock before he was turned, and now wished that he could whisk the scene away like a broom sweeping dirt outside.
For one hundred and thirty-one years, Vassus hus had traveled with his sire, Fredrick, and he had thought he’d seen it all. But he found out that his experience was sorely lacking. Understand, his sire had loved women, any type of women, and he had brought women into his bed frequently. And Vassilious had agreed with his master on that point. He had been heterosexual as a human and had remained one as a vampire. Even so, in over a century of his demonic existence, he had seen many various ways of unlife.
Then Argonia had killed his sire, pulling off all of Fredrick’s appendages before setting him on fire, and then when she took him on as a vassal, he saw even more varieties of sexual appetites. So, now after fourteen years of serving Argonia, in the antechamber he expected to see another one of her orgies. He had come to understand that other people enjoyed themselves that way. He accepted that some people enjoyed being with same or different sexes. Fine. He understood that they might like to be with both, and that was Argonia’s category many times over. Still fine – at first. He fell in love with his mistress at first sight and therefore accepted her behaviors. But still, he was only attracted to females which proved to be disastrous while being part of her clan. At the insistence of his beloved mistress, Vassilious was determined to try every way, every how, and every where. So he had leaped in feet first, sure that his love’s sexual appetite was the best possible way. But what he found out was, to use a well used expression, “to each his or her own.” But all roads came back to one. Argonia. He loved her with his whole dead heart, and therefore he would endure watching her with many others, which was becoming harder and harder. Knowing this, he could easily imagine what could be going on in the chamber, and it was not what he wanted to see. Taking an unneeded deep breath, he pushed the door open.
When he first entered, he signaled the ones dragging the male victim to take a young sorely used vampire off the meat hooks hanging from the ceiling and replace him with the fresh meat. “Put the vampire in his cell until he heals. Then we will bring him back for our mistress to play with again.” The unfortunate vampire was a spy from the Eucleus clan from Greece. Now the spy was covered in wicked looking burns due to Argonia’s specialty of burning her victim without setting him or her on fire. Just a lot of lovely blistering, oozing wounds. Vassilious saw nothing wrong with a little play with another rival vampire, but just didn’t see the fun in playing with his own food. He left Argonia to that alone.
Near the meat hooks, Argonia lay propped up in the center of a large, intricately carved bed. Large pillows littered the room as well as various sex toys and torture tools the master of the clan enjoyed. Whips, paddles, hand cuffs, dildos of various shapes and sizes, large lighters, fire irons, scalpels, and much more. Argonia’s head was thrown back, red hair falling all around her as a vampiress was enthusiastically working over the mistress’ clit with her tongue while another male was fucking the brunette vampiress from behind. At the same time, the mistress was pumping with her hand around the large cock of a blonde vampire standing next to her. This same male was leaning down, kissing his mistress’ open mouth. To the side, two other vampires were lying on the pillows, eagerly sucking on the other’s cock. Argonia enjoyed a good show.
Vassilious fought to keep his expression blank. The sight, though not uncommon of his beloved with five other people, cut him deep. “Mistress…Mistress Argonia, here is your dinner.”
“Fine, hook him up and leave us. This vampire’s cock is quite tasty, but you may have a turn tomorrow.” She turned, and with a firm grip, stroked the well endowed vampire one more time before engulfing his shaft with her mouth.
The muscles of Vassilious’ jaw worked furiously before he spoke again. “Sorry to disturb, Mistress, but…”
“Then this had better be good, or you and I can have a session with my favorite whip instead all this oral yumminess.”
“It is. It is very important.” At least now Argonia no longer had a prick other than his own in her mouth.
“So, spill already. Oh, no, not you, big fellow. You can’t blow your wad and gl lil limp on me yet.” She gave the vampire’s penis a kiss on the tip.
Sickened, Vassilious prayed that the following information would shift her attention back to him. “Your spy in Cleveland says that the Watchers Council is dispatching another slayer to Crete.”
Argonia gave a little laugh and waved off the vampire pumping into the girl between her legs. “That’s important? The current one is mostly killing fledglings, which we can always make more. This new slayer will do the same. Only that fucking vampire out there is hurting our number of elders. Even with a bounty out on his head, we can’t even find out what he looks like because his prey never escapes him to come back and tell. All we know is that he is a traitor to his own kind, telling us that he is a vampire, and we know that little bit from overhearing the slayer and her watcher.” Argonia waved Vassilious off with a flick of her wrist before looking down at the girl between her legs. “Give my clit a little nip, honey. Ah, ah, yes…again…”
“Mistress, that’s why they are sending not just any slayer. Word is that this slayer was carefully chosen and powerful. Word is that this slayer is one of the slayers that teach at their academy.” Vassilious watched he dhe deep-throated the young vampire. His jealousy boiled, and his voice came out harsher than he would have liked. “Mistress Argonia, if the rumors are correct, they are sending either the Sunnydale Slayer or the Rogue Slayer. Probably the Rogue Slayer since the other one doesn’t leave the Watchers Council anymore.”
She pulled back so fast that the male vampire yelped when her teeth scraped along the sensitive skin of his cock. “Really?...No, you’re right this time. The Sunnydale Slayer doesn’t leave that piece of shit academy, so that would leave us with the Rogue Slayer. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? We have plans to make.” Roughly shoving the girl between her legs aside, she grabbed a robe and signaled Vassilious to follow.
&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&
November 4, 2005
Spike knew that the Sepatucci Clan was growing increasingly bold and were proving to be smart. The minions sent out to look for food for their master’s inner circle were no longer staying in the limits of the island of Crete, knowing that if they killed too many on such a small island, it would be too obvious to loc local authorities. Not that the police would do the clan any harm, but they could make the humans much more cautious and stay away from clubs and various areas. So the minions began taking discrete boat rides to cities such as Yithion and Kalamata on mainland Greece, to kidnap humans and bring the fresh meals back to their elders.
The changing situation was making Spike anxious, driving him to seek out more information. He frequented Nota-Bene Pub, a demon bar known to not be very sympathetic to the Sepatucci vamps; accordingly, rumors about the clan flowed like a Nascar on a race track. Then the rumor mill went into overdrive when word started racing around the city that, due to the growing Sepatucci clan, a slayer from the new Watcher’s Council had been dispatched to Crete. When he heard that news from his best informant, Spike raised his scared eyebrow but didn’t speak a word. The council must be taking the clan’s resurgence seriously, as they should. Two slayers along with him surreptitiously helping should take care of the situation. First make a dent in the population and then take out the master when he was not so well protected. Then the clan would start falling apart and finally disband. Taking out the strays would be like shooting rabid dogs in a cage.
Naturally on a Friday night, the pub was alive with conversations and speculations. But when word started to circulate that the slayer’s plane landed at Irakleio Airport, the bartender could hardly hear Spike order his AB negative over the den of the crowd. After being on the island for a while, Spike knew that Gen, the slayer originally assigned to Crete, was good but still relatively a novice. Since Spike knew Buffy’s watcher was now head of new new Watcher’s Council, he was sure Rupert’s choice of slayer to send would be meticulously thought out. That anal retentive bugger. The newly arrived slayer would undoubtedly be good but also experienced. Hopefully, this slayer’s abilities would be pushing the side of great. Since he knew Buffy was in LA with Mr. Brow Man, leaving Faith to watch over the Hellmouth in Cleveland, he couldn’t help but wonder if this slayer was one of the girls that he helped Buffy train. He had no idea how many had survived that final battle in Sunnydale since he hadn’t himself, but those should be experienced sixteen months later. Regardless of who the slayer was, he was going to steer clear. Wouldn’t do for the “fake William the Bloody of Crete,” his moniker given to him by the local demons, to be recognized by a slayer as the real Spike.
&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&
When Gen was patrolling, hers and Spike’s paths only occasionally crossed; those times he caught site of her, he helped if he could but kept his distance. He often hit the pubs and clubs in search of prey. Of course, they were considerably more fun than the cemeteries and ruins, which gave him too much time to think about the past. So he would go inside, have a couple of drinks, enjoy watching the women dancing, and idly wait for a vampire to slip up and cross his path.
There were only two real drawbacks to the bars. One was the perchance of the island’s clubs for techno-music. Definitely not his preferred style. The second was more sweet and sour. The sour was that sometimes a blonde dancing would remind him of Buffy just as he had seen her for the first time, dancing in the Bronze. Those times brought the memories rushing back like snapshots. Those were the sweet and sour. He would order a stiff drink and watch the pleasure/painful slide show with Buffy in the starring roll and Dawn co-starring. He could actually laugh when he saw himself running down the Sunnydale welcome sign - twice, meeting the anointed brat, frying the anointed brat, and promising to bag his third slayer. Actually he had bagged her mentally and stored her away in his heart. Trying to kill her in actuality was something his soul bothered him about, but he pushed that back into a corner. If he hadn’t wanted to kill her, he would have never gotten the chip and then never got to know her. He remembered the awe and joy that she was the one that made the decision to have it removed and not replaced. Looking back now, he suspected that he would never have actually killed her anyway. He had loved fighting her too much, Spike thought with a smile. Subsequently he watched his memories of first meeting Joyce, later having hot coco with Joyce when Dru broke up with him, breaking into the Magic Box with Dawn, and even with the pain of Buffy dying; he loved the memories of taking care of the Bit over that summer. The rest of the memories, the intimate ones with Buffy, he reserved for later during the day in the privacy of his flat. The slayer that he started out hating and ended up loving could be seen in every one of his dreams in the night and in the day.
Even the happy memories turned sad by the end of the night. For some unknown reason, this night really bit into his soul. All he could see was Buffy in the Bronze. Buffy dancing with Xander, Buffy talking with her friends, Buffy playing pool with him, and Buffy kissing him by the staircase. He could see the tears start shimmering in front of his vision. “Bloody hell, going to cry like a bleedin’ babe in the middle of a club. So much for the big bad.”
As he shook his tears away, much to his relief, he would usually spot a vampire leaving with his or her “dinner.” Spike would follow. If they didn’t sin tin the first dark walkway so he could dust the git, he would track them by the roadways or by roof tops until he found a good location to attack. He would try his best to send the prey scurrying away before his stake struck home on the daft vamp. Then he would have a smoke on the way back to the club or to another club, whatever struck his fancy, and he would start the process again. Hopefully without the tears. A vampire could hope, couldn’t he? Sad. So sad. Unlike others, Spike’s hope was to stay dry-eyed in public instead of hoping for a future and happiness. Maybe a hope or two for future but not a hope for happiness. Just existence and pain.
&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&
TBC
Please, please, reviews needed. Let me know how this story is going.
Thanks
Dana