Not So Gone

I own nothing but my computer and dirty little mind.
This is my first naughty fic(tho pretty tame compared to some stuff I've read here!) so please let me know what you think!


**


As Spike brought the jar of blood to his mouth, his crypt door swung open. He looked up alarmed. He could see no one, but could hear footsteps. Sharp sounding. He slowly walked to where he sensed a presence. The tv clicked off. 'Great…a ghost,' he thought.
“Hey, go haunt the living, huh?” Before he could say anything else, he felt a hard blow to his chin that sent him sprawling. Spike stood up and frantically tried to figure out where the nasty was. A kick in the back sent him flying forward.

The ghost then kicked Spike down into the crypt’s lower level. He hit the bottom with a hard thud, but was quickly on his feet, looking around frantically. Another phantom punch to the face, one to the stomach. Spike tried to focus his supernatural senses on the entity, but it kept moving around. Before he knew it, his feet were knocked from underneath him. The ghost grabbed him by the arms and slammed him face first against a wall. Spike felt his arms being spread out and before he could figure what was happening, he found himself trapped in his own shackles. He tried to crane his neck around, to see behind him, but to no avail.

“Hey, look. Whatever you are, if I did something to piss you off, I’m sorry, ok? There’s no need to do…whatever you’re going to do here. Let’s just have a drink and call it square, huh?” Spike pulled hard at the chains and was rewarded with a hard slap to the back of the head.

Then, Spike felt invisible arms reach around his chest and tear open his shirt. It was then ripped from him, every shred now on the floor. Spike was stunned…he wasn’t sure what to do. Then he felt feather light caresses up and down his back. Spike was thoroughly confused. The hands felt feminine, but so strong. Familiar, almost. His mind was racing and he couldn’t put a coherent thought together. Then, just as he was beginning to not care what had him chained up, he felt fingernails slightly pierce his skin and tear down his back. He let out a yelp. “Bloody hellat dat did you do that--“ Spike was cut off by the feeling of hands moving slowly around his waist, to his belt buckle. The hands painstakingly opened the belt, and undid the button and zipper. His pants were down to his ankles in a flash. Spike froze in fear. Then he felt a hand on his ass and he heard a giggle. A flash of slight recognition went across his face, but he lost it when the nails dug into his right butt cheek. Spike stifled a moan of…not quite pain.

He heard his belt jangle from through the belt loops in his pants. He again craned his head around to try and see what was happening. A hand pressed his head to the wall. The hand moved gently down his back, as if to calm him, resting just above his ass. When Spike relaxed just a bit, the hand gently rubbed his butt, squeezing and massaging it slowly. Spike relaxed more, almost going slack in the chains. Then, SNAP! A flash of pain shot through Spike as the belt struck his rear. “Oww FUCK! What the HELL is going ON??!!” Spike cried out in pain. He bucked, trying to get away from the hand that was on his lower back again. The hand gently caressed the offended area. Spike then felt the hand pushing him into the wall. Another cracking sound, as the belt lashed across Spike’s upper thighs, right below his ass. Spike grunted and groaned in pain, twisting in the chains, trying to turn himself around. Again, a hand gently rubbed the now-reddening area. Three quick snaps, one for each cheek and across the thighs again. Spike was now almost climbing the wall with his knees, trying to somehow get away. He was a vampire and could tolerate pain, but these lashes were so powerful, so hard. Confusion, pain, and not a little fear were spurring on his wild bucking and struggling. Two hands were now softly tending to his sore ass. Spike growled a bit as he let his forehead rest on the brick wall. Then a slight pain from somewhere he hadn’t expected. Somewhere he hadn’t thought would be reacting. He could feel his cock pushing against the cold wall of the crypt. The rough texture was not pleasant on the head, which arousal was forcing out of the foreskin.

'No fucking way am I getting hard now. FUCK!' As if sensing Spike’s thoughts, the phantom put a hand on Spike’s hip, pulliim aim away from the wall. Then a hand was on his hard cock, slowly rubbing up and down, squeezing tightly at the base and pulling up in excruciatingly deliberate strokes. “What the hell is going on? I…I…” Spike had trouble finishing his thoughts, much less a whole sentence. The pain from his ass was abating and, terrified as he was, he couldn’t help but enjoy the ghostly handjob. Spike threw his head back and bit into his own lip, then…without a thought in his head except release, he began thrusting into the hand.

At this, the hand released. Spike whimpered in frustration. “Come on…can’t just leave a guy hanging…what are you playing at…whatever you are?” His answer came in the form of 5 hard swats with the belt. On his back, his ass, his legs. 'Fuck, how much more of this? How can I stop it?' Spike hissed as the last swing found his ass. He felt his demon coming, and he didn’t try to stop it. He snarled and snapped at the entity behind him. “Bloody show yourself, eh? Come on, let’s play!” Spike felt a vice-like grip on his balls. He let out a sharp breath and groaned. The grip grew tighter and more painful until Spike finally gasped. “What? What do you want?” The grip on his balls still tight as ever, he felt a finger trace over his morphed forehead. He let his human form return, and the hand on his balls let go. Spike banged his forehead on the brick and sighed, unsure of what to do, if he could do anything. Spike heard the shackles clank as first one hand, then the other was released. He jumped back and assumed a fighting stance as he tried to zero in on the phantom. He heard footsteps running away from him and up the ladder to the upper chamber. He heard the crypt door open and close. He did not chase. A fine sight that would be, too. A naked vampire chasing…what…in the broad daylight. Wouldn’t be a sight for too long.

Spike took a moment to take in what had happened. His ass was still sore, though it was lessening. His raging erection, however, was not. Spike looked down and frowned. “Yeah, thanks a lot, mate. There was no call for you to join the action. Just made things worse…I think…Fine, you win. You always do. Besides, you served me well the other night with Buffy. Keeping up with that bird…damned admirable job.” Spike sighed and walked over to his bed. He knew he had to figure out what had happened to him, but right now there was a more pressing matter. Fishing around in his nightstand, he found a small, clear bottle. He drizzled some of the thick liquid into his hand and began rubbing it on the swollen head. He laid back on his bed and began pumping up and down, slowly first, then quicker. Spike began moaning lightly, stretching his legs out in the length of the bed. His mind took him back to the trashed house and the horny Slayer, moaning his name over and over, begging him to make her come. A languid smile crept onto his face as he was lost in his reverie. He never heard the light footsteps coming down the ladder, and never sensed the presence that stood only 10 feet from his self-gratifying self.
“Buffy…..Slayer..…fuck…..so fucking hot, luv…..god…..and tight…..come for me, Slayer …I’m coming…I’m coming inside you, pet…you wanna feel the cold shooting inside you? Ung…uh…aaaaaaoooohhhh…….” Spike came all over his stomach, groaning as he finished. As he cleaned himself up, Spike also did not hear the light footsteps returning up the ladder, or the crypt door squeak open a few inches for the phantom to exit.

**

“Well, Buff, like I said, it’s great to have you back in the land of the visible.” Xander said jovially as Buffy sat on the counter at the Magic Box. “Get into any trouble?”

Buffy smiled slyly. “Nah, nothing big.”

“Well, what are you going to do about those guys? Jonathon and Warren and…the other one?” Xander asked seriously.

“Well…haven’t decided yet. I mean, they did steal that big ole’ diamond from the museum. And turned me majorly invisible. But I’m thinking, let the good old Sunnydale police handle this one. They’re not exactly supernatural, so technically, not my area.”

“Well, the sooner the better, I—“ Xander was cut off by someone bursting through the shop door, cloaked in a blanket. Buffy figured the jig was up, Spike was on to her.

Spike threw down his blanket and took a second to gather himself, smoothing back his hair and readjusting his duster. He was used to the strange looks the Scoobies gave him, much like the one he was getting now from Buffy, Xander, and Anya.
“Uh…I, uh…need to do some research. Was hopin’ you’d let me use your books here.”

Buffy smiled sweetly at him. “What kind of research?”

Her smile was off-putting. She never smiled like that at him. “Uh…well…ghost stuff. Poltergeist, I think.”

Xander looked in surprise. “The big bad vampire is having ghostie troubles?”

“Uh well…not exactly trouble…just…annoyance.”

Buffy was biting back a broad smile. Anya looked quizzically at Spike.

“What kind of annoyance? Because there are a lot of different kinds of ghosts, ya know. Poltergeists can function physically—moving things and stuff.” Anya contributed helpfully.

“Yeah, well, that’s what I got then.” Spike looked down at his shoes, uncertain if they were going to help him or not.

“Well, that’s not necessarily what it is. A lot of other entities can move things and make themselves physically present. Describe exactly what happened, that might help us narrow it down.” Anya seemed downright chipper.

Spike shifted on his feet. He took a seat at the table, wincing a bit, with his back facing Buffy. “Yeahl…uhl…uh, see…door to my crypt opened…I heard footsteps coming in…”

“Your door opened? You heard footsteps? Hmm…ghosts and entities like that don’t usually use doors and ‘walk’. Unless they’re just trying to scare you…” Anya was stumped.

Xander’s look of general disinterest turned into genuine curiosity. A realization slowly crept onto hace.ace. He looked over and Buffy with wide eyes. He began giggling. She shared a knowing smile with him and then looked back to Spike who was frowning at Anya.

“Well, that’s what it damn well did! It opened my door, walked in, tried roughing me up a bit, and…and then left.” Spike was indignant.

Anya got a funny look on her face. She slowly looked up at Buffy, who pressed a finger to her lips. At least the ex-vengeance demon had learned silent hints by now.

Xander couldn’t refrain any longer. “Gee, Spike, now you’re getting beat up by ghosts? Word must be out about you. Being an easy smackdown and all.”

Spike was out of his seat in an instant, but stopped himself, remember his chip. “I *said* it *tried*. Also tried to…touch me…in other ways. If ya get my meaning…” Spike shook his head. “Whatever the hell this thing is, it’s bloody strange.” Spike resumed his seat by Anya. This time Buffy noticed his slight wincing. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

Anya and Xander gave abhorred looks toward Buffy, who tried to fight off blushing. She just shook her head and twirled her finger around her temple, indicating Spike was loony. Xander and Anya seemed to accept this, though uneasily.

“Well, Spike, I really don’t know if we can help you. I mean, I’ve never even heard of this kind of…entity. One that opens doors and walks and hits and…well…tries to molest vampires.” Anya looked at Spike matof-fof-factly.

Spike sighed. “Right…nice. Fine lot of supernatural investigators you all are. Not much good without Watcher boy around, are you?” At that, Spike stood up and walked over to his blanket. As he was situating it over himself, Willow walked in.

“Hi, Spike!”

“Red.”

As Spike darted out the door, he heard Willow greeting Buffy. “Well, if it isn’t Buffy ‘I’m back from the invisible’ Summers!”

The blanket already starting to smolder, Spike kept running, but bellowed loudly, “BLOODY HELL!!! SLAYER!!”

Willow looked outside and wondered aloud what was wrong with Spike.

Xander, Anya, and Buffy started giggling. “Oh, nothing,” Buffy answered.

'Nothing that a late night visit and a little soothing oil won’t help,' she thought.

**

~Fin~