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LadyAndTiger

Page history last edited by PBworks 16 years, 11 months ago

The Lady And The Tiger

 

Author: NA17

Fandom: Buffy

Pairing(s): Spike/Tara, Spike/Xander

Warnings: slave fic, non con, past torture, dark fic, D/s, forced bodymod, WIP

Spoilers: N/A

Summary: Spike takes two slaves and decides to choose one to make into his personal love slave. Which will it be? Story follows Xander as his choice and Tara as his choice.

Admin Notes: This is a quirky fic that follows two alternate parallel routes, choosing Tara (The Lady) or choosing Xander (The Tiger). Both tales can be followed together or one and then the other.

 

Nominated Category:

Most Promising Newcomer


 


 

Intro Part 1

 

Prologue

 

 

 

Abaddon was one of the few remaining slavers’ worlds. Governed by demons, it lived up to the hell that its name promised. It was not a good place to be a human. It wasn’t always a good place to be a demon, either.

 

 

 

As humans moved across the galaxy to colonize, the demons soon followed.

 

 

 

Much to the demons dismay, the pioneer spirit of the humans who struck out to find a better life for themselves also kept them from being cowed by the frightening creatures they encountered. These humans didn’t care if a creature defied logic. If attacked, the humans defended themselves ruthlessly. They found that fire killed just about anything. So the demons congregated on one of the furthest worlds they could find, making it their own and biding their time.

 

 

 

For a hundred years chaos reigned. Although the demons knew that all they had to do was wait for the humans to become complacent again, they were after all, demons, and they thrived on carnage. Scores of bloody battles raged, new ones often beginning before old ones were complete. Thousands died, and then hundreds of thousands, and the planet lay in ruins.

 

 

 

From the ashes rose a new order, built by those who realized the futility of pointless violence. Unlikely alliances were formed as they sought to purge the mindlessly violent from their ranks. Then they began to rebuild. Clans began to separate again, and cities rose from the scarred plains. Where there once was total chaos, order reigned.

 

 

 

But the wisest among them realized that the order would never last unless the demons were allowed to be demons. They would soon turn their lust for rampant carnage on each other if they were not allowed an outlet for their natural aggression and need to dominate. Thus the slaver class began.

 

 

 

By then, humans had had generations to settle into their new worlds, and once again made easy prey. Young men and women, full of an aimless wanderlust, were easy to entice away from their homes with promises of a better life. Harvest raids were also conducted on sleeper ships, and sometimes travelers were simply abducted from out-of-the-way locations.

 

 

 

Once on Abaddon, they learned the harsh truth of their new existence. Some of them were trained in the arts of pleasuring their demon masters; others competed in the warrior games, or were marked as breeders and kept out of general circulation. And the unruly, the ones who wouldn’t accept their place, well, there was a place for them too…

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

 

Spike was bored Tuning out the droning of his assistant, he lounged in the back of his transport, eyes roving the streets outside and looking for something interesting. He’d been planetside for months. His erstwhile grandsire had summoned him to court, ordering him to fulfill his duty. Spike bristled at this. Technically, his sire should have been serving her time at court, but she had been deemed unsuitable, so Himself had decreed that Spike would serve in her stead. Now Spike was stuck, bowing and scraping and yes Sir’ing himself into sheer, mindless boredom.

 

 

 

He wanted to be off-world, basking in the light of alien moons and bathing in the blood of unsuspecting innocents. Fighting, fucking and feeding. But no, he was stuck with a bunch of pretentious elders, being lorded over by that enormous prick, Angelus.

 

 

 

His attention wandered back to his assistant, Gen, when he realized that she had been trying to get his attention for the last several minutes. “What was that?” he asked her.

 

 

 

She glared at him. “I was saying that there has been some sort of disturbance ahead, and traffic through this corridor is being re-routed down into the city.”

 

 

 

“And?” Spike asked, wondering why she thought he cared

 

 

 

She sighed. “This will significantly delay your arrival at his lordship’s estate. He will not be pleased.”

 

 

 

“And yet, I find myself still wallowing in a lack of concern.”

 

 

 

“Master Angelus will not be pleased if his lordship is angered,” she replied tersely.

 

 

 

Spike smirked. “Bonus.”

 

 

 

Gen glared. She looked perky even when she was furious. Spike couldn’t tell if it was the annoying flip of her dark brown hair, or the way her brown eyes flashed. Even the bright white utility jumper she wore screamed cheer. It was nauseating.

 

 

 

Spiked rolled his eyes. “Dial it,” he said curtly.

 

 

 

Gen slid the vid-screen into view and punched the numbers.

 

 

 

The corpulent Lord Arvis soon appeared on the screen in all his grotesque glory. His pale skin, stretched nearly to bursting over a bald head, had a blotchy reddish cast to it. At a glance, other than two diminutive yellowing horns on his forehead, he looked fully human. His small piggy eyes, however, contained no spark of compassion. They were coldly calculating the reason for Spike’s call.

 

 

 

“Ah, Master Spike, I’ve been awaiting your arrival. No problems, I trust?” His thick liver colored lips curled up in a parody of a smile, but his flat eyes continued to bore into Spike, even through the vid.

 

 

 

“Yeah, about that,” Spike said dismissively. “Ran into a bit of a delay. Gonna be a bit longer.”

 

 

 

“Really.” Arvis paused, his mouth turning back down into its natural state. “That’s most unfortunate. I was under the impression that Master Angelus was in rather a hurry to acquire this package. I went to a great deal of effort to get it so promptly.”

 

 

 

Spike hated dealing with this crap. His face grew hard as he said, “Look, Arvis, Angelus very much appreciates the effort involved.”

 

 

 

Cold eyes narrowed even further. “I don’t think he does. I was very specific when we made our arrangements. The package is to be picked up within the hour or he forfeits; no exceptions. I have several other interested parties that realize the value of this particular prize, and are fully appreciative of its …” he paused for a moment, as if searching for the right words, “ … time-sensitive nature.”

 

 

 

Spike glanced quickly at Gen, who shook her head. They’d never make it within the hour. If he didn’t pick up this package, Angelus would flay the skin off his back. Twice. It cost a fortune and it was all he’d been talking about for weeks. “Look, mate,” he started, “I know full well that you’re under the gun and want to rid yourself of this thing. Angelus paid a pretty price for you to get it. But if you’re willing to double-deal him, go ahead. Just consider it the last bit of business that you do with the court. And with that goes your protection.”

 

 

 

Gen’s eyes went wide and she started to panic. “Sir, you can’t…,” she started.

 

 

 

Spike reached over and switched her off. He didn’t need to deal with her meltdown just now.

 

 

 

Rage swept over Arvis’ face. “You think that you, a first-timer on the council, still smelling of the putrid earth they buried you in, can scare me with your idle threats?,” He sneered. “They’ll stake you out for the sunrise before they stop doing business with me. I get what they need.”

 

 

 

Fury washed over Spike. His voice dropped dangerously low as he said conversationally, “Normally, I’d say you were right; first-timers typically don’t have that much pull on the council. We get sent back and forth over this god-forsaken place, running errands for the elders. But me, I’m not even supposed to be here. I’ve got years before I’m truly obligated to fulfill my duty.” He narrowed his eyes, his tone becoming venomous. “Me, I’m here early because I bagged 2 slayers on my own when I was off-world. They want me here because I remind them what a real vampire is.” This wasn’t precisely true, but he wasn’t going to tell this fat fuck that.

 

 

 

Spike continued. “There’s nothing I’d like better than to be off-world, but I’m stuck here. And if the only entertainment I get is from taking down pompous, self-important bureaucrats like you, and skinning them alive...I’ll have to take it,” he said, smiling cheerfully at the thought.

 

 

 

Arvis paled. “You wouldn’t!” he sputtered.

 

 

 

“Yeah, mate, I would. But more importantly, I can,” Spike continued. “See, the difference between them and me is that I care fuck all about the rules.

 

 

 

“But I can guarantee you against the rules or not, if I dragged you in kicking and screaming, the court would feast for weeks on your fat arse, and no one would come to your aid. So, what do you say? Give me a bit longer?”

 

 

 

Arvis held Spike’s cold gaze with his own for a moment longer, then pursed his thick lips together. “Fine,” he said tersely. “However, there is only so much time that I can keep it here. It needs constant…”

 

 

 

Spike cut him off. “How long?”

 

 

 

“No more than five hours, or it will be unsalvageable,” he replied.

 

 

 

“Fine. I can be there within two, and have it back to Angelus in time for sundown.” Spike smiled. “How ‘bout we buy you a pretty poppet for your troubles, huh? We’re passing through the slave district as it is.”

 

 

 

Arvis paused a moment, his normally flat eyes sparkling in a decidedly predatory way. “Yes, I think that would be acceptable. Something…new…to play with would be quite nice,” he said maliciously, and Spike could almost see him salivating.

 

 

 

Spike nodded as he turned off the vid.

 

 

 

He debated leaving Gen off for the remainder of the trip, but she’d never let him forget it. He flicked her switch.

 

 

 

As Gen hummed back to life, a blandly generic feminine computer voice broadcast “MicroCosm’s SevenGens. Working for you!” while she booted up.

 

 

 

He knew she was fully booted when her eyes blinked open and she finished her previous speech. “…speak to Lord Arvis that way. He’s...,” her voice drifted off as she computed how much time had elapsed between the beginning and end of her statement. She scowled at Spike. “Sir, I have asked you repeatedly not to do that. I am a SevenGen personal assistant, not a …toaster oven.”

 

 

 

“Do you even know what a toaster oven is?” he asked her, smiling as her scowl deepened.

 

 

 

“Lord Arvis?” she inquired.

 

 

 

“Dealt with. We have to stop briefly at the slave markets…” she bristled at this “with his lordships’ permission,” Spike finished, and she calmed somewhat. “I’m picking him up a little something. No need to get your circuits in a bunch, yeah?”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

One thing Spike did love about being homeworld was that it was vampire safe. The city was designed specifically with his kind in mind: lots of tall buildings with deep shadows, oversized awnings, and necro-tempered glass. They were all used in combination to block the sun’s deadly rays. He had no difficulty getting from his transport into the slave mall.

 

 

 

He’d left Gen in the transport. She had wanted to come, to keep him out of trouble. But what was the point of being evil if you weren’t going to get into trouble? Besides, he knew she reported everything he did back to Angelus. He’d told her he’d meet her in the loading area.

 

 

 

He sauntered around the main level, smirking at the fact that while everyone gave him a wide berth, they couldn’t help staring either.

 

 

 

He knew he looked good, with his hair just bleached moon-white and done up in spikes, a loose bone-white shirt left open to the navel and tucked into tight breeches, and deceptively soft looking black boots that could pack an unexpected wallop in a fight.

 

 

 

His long black coat billowed out behind him. Not his beloved duster, some modern lightweight fabric that shimmered when he moved. Damned thing had the Council’s emblem embroidered in blood-red on the left shoulder – an intertwined A and C, combined with dripping fangs. He imagined that whoever on the council had commissioned it thought it looked noble and threatening. It looked stupid. At least it was small...well, smallish. The morons could have splashed the thing across the back.

 

 

 

His duster had been packed away with his other off-world trinkets. Angelus had thought it too provincial, and nearly burned it when Spike protested. With Spike wearing it. So he had put it away for the joyful day when he got off this flying mudball, and accepted this inferior substitute.

 

 

 

He strode through the main arcade, over to one of the pricier merchants. The stock was all displayed on a rotating dais. Rows of clear tubes, each holding a single, scantily clad human displayed for sale. With their hands bound behind them, the slaves were forced to stand at an awkward attention in the narrow tubes. Judging from the serene looks on their faces and their wide smiles, they were having Bliss Gas piped into the tubes along with the air. It was like looking at life-sized dolls that had been packaged, wrapped and processed for consumption. It was creepy – even Gen looked more alive.

 

 

 

Spike lit up a cigarette and perused his selections. An oily looking salesdemon slithered over. “May I help you, Sir?” it asked.

 

 

 

Like most of the merchant class, the squat toad-like salesdemon was an Anuran demon. Its bulging eyes lingered on the cigarette and then darted to the Council emblem on Spike’s coat, and Spike knew it longed to tell him to put it out.

 

 

 

He smirked. “‘fraid I’m going to set your pretties on fire, are you?”

 

 

 

“What? Oh, no sir. We use nothing flammable in our packaging. Please feel free to partake,” the demon said, almost jovially, but its eyes kept darting around nervously, its tongue flicking ceaselessly over its bony lip ridges. “It’s forbidden to use Bliss Gas on any live human slave trade,” the toad said.

 

 

 

“Uh huh,” Spike replied, unimpressed. “It’s also cheap, undetectable in the blood even to vampires, odorless, and keeps the toys in line.”

 

 

 

Spike flicked his butt at one of the tubes and it bounced off. He laughed when the salesdemon visibly flinched. “Don’t really care what you do to them, do I? Not my problem,” he said. Then he pointed to a blonde female with overlarge… assets. He figured she’d be exactly the type that Arvis would like: all tits and no brains. “That one. She squeamish about fucking G’nrda demons?”

 

 

 

The salesdemon brightened immediately “All our merchandise has been properly trained to…”

 

 

 

Spike cut him off, “Don’t need a pedigree. Yes or no.”

 

 

 

“Of course sir, yes, she’s trained for G’nrda.” The toad nearly bent in half bowing in apology. Stupid git.

 

 

 

“Fine, I’ll take her. Strip her off and tie a pretty bow around her or something, will you? She’s a gift. I’ll pick her up in the loading dock,” he said dismissively. He passed his council I-dent card over to be scanned. “Make it quick.”

 

 

 

“Yes sir.” The toad scanned the card and handed it back with a claim check as it scurried off to make arrangements.

 

 

 

Spike strode off through the mall toward the loading dock.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Riley, please…don’t do this.” Spike heard the delightful sound of an anguished female pleading. “Please, don’t do this,” she repeated, softly.

 

 

 

Spike paused. It was unusual for humans to speak so freely at the slavers’ mall. Begging was common, but this quiet pleading was different. His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the source.

 

 

 

He spotted them, off to his left on a public sale dais, a group of 3 humans, two males and a female. One of the males wore the insignia of an overseer on his collar. Even without the insignia, Spike would have known he was the overseer. They all had a vague military bearing that carried over from their training.

 

 

 

The other two were dressed for sale, leashed and collared with their hands bound behind them. The overseer was binding them each to a post, readying them for sale.

 

 

 

The girl, her dark blonde hair pulled up into some sort of twist, was wearing a short sleeved white top that came to just below her large unbound breasts, and a long white skirt made of the same synthetic material. It seemed to both cling to her everywhere and float about her at the same time. The fabric had been rolled from her waist all the way down around her soft rounded belly, stopping at her hips. She looked….lush, her owners presenting her as a strange combination of virginal bride and breeder that typically didn’t mesh, but which suited this girl well.

 

 

 

The boy was just as interesting, skin bronzed to a honey color and oiled, showing off muscles that had most likely been acquired by hard physical labor rather than training. His only article of clothing was a small bit of fabric fastened around his waist, which barely reached his mid-thigh, and was of the same white material that the girl was wearing. His longish shaggy brown hair bespoke of convenience rather than style, and his face was dominated by large brown hurt-me eyes.

 

 

 

Spike was intrigued, and moved closer, pretending to examine some leather restraints in a stall nearby. A malicious glare sent the salesman scuttling away, giving Spike an unobstructed view of the unfolding drama.

 

 

 

The overseer had finished strapping the boy and the girl in, and was busying himself with the keypad on the terminal, presumably pricing the pair of them.

 

 

 

“Riley,” the girl said softly. She had her head down and tilted away from the street, and barely moved her lips when she spoke.

 

 

 

The overseer, Riley, looked up from his typing and held her gaze as he said, “Tara, I…”

 

 

 

“Please,” she murmured, “I’ll do anything, anything at all. Just don’t …”

 

 

 

“You know it’s not up to me,” he answered softly, his eyes still locked with hers.

 

 

 

“T-tell them I’ll work the tents, I really will do a-anything, please...” There was an edge of desperation in her voice.

 

 

 

“Tara, NO!” the boy hissed, “I won’t let you do that, not for me.” He wasn’t as good at being discreet as the girl was. A few patrons in the streets looked up at his exclamation. He immediately clammed up.

 

 

 

Riley, the overseer, glared at the boy, his face hardening. Spike saw that the kid had the common sense to drop his gaze and bow his head.

 

 

 

Tara looked at the boy, then back at Riley. “I will work the tents,” she whispered more forcefully. “All day, all night, whenever they want, however long they want. Just please don’t split us up.”

 

 

 

Riley looked at her solemnly. “Tara,” he sighed, “I don’t have a choice. You know where they should have sent him.” He indicated the boy. “I got them to agree to sell you both instead. It was all I could do.”

 

 

 

Tara opened her mouth to reply, and then closed it again. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. When she opened her eyes again Spike saw that they shimmered with tears. She glanced at the boy, and at Riley, and nodded in understanding. “Do you think someone will buy us both?” she asked, voice wavering a bit. “Together?”

 

 

 

“I’m sure…” Riley started, and then shook his head, apparently unwilling to lie to the girl. “No, I’m sorry. I’ve been ordered to discourage that if I can.”

 

 

 

The tears that had been welling up in the girl’s eyes silently spilled over and down her cheeks in a stream. Spike could nearly taste her despair. It was beautiful.

 

 

 

“God, Tara, I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry,” the boy whispered.

 

 

 

She took a deep breath and struggled to regain her composure before murmuring back. “Not your fault, Xander, never think that. Just keep safe, ok? I love you.”

 

 

 

“Ok, you two, enough. It’s time.” Riley’s voice was more firm as he punched a few final buttons and the digital sales display was activated. The entire dais shifted forward, indicating that he was open for business.

 

 

 

Spike was intrigued. Loyalty among slaves wasn’t uncommon, but between a slave and an overseer, it was nearly unheard of. Relationships between the groups were painfully discouraged. He wandered over to get a better look at the pair.

 

 

 

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one interested in these two, either. By the time he’d gone the short distance to the dais; several demons had gathered around the pair and were examining them closely. He watched as the girl, Tara, turned gray as she felt a Corswa demon slide one of its primary tentacles up under her skirt to examine her more fully. Both its secondary tentacles were busy slithering about the rest of her body; whether it was trying to soothe or stimulate, Spike couldn’t tell. Girl stood still though, didn’t flinch.

 

 

 

Corswa demons were smaller than average human females and easily distinguished by their five sets of tentacles and prominent forehead crest. They were creatures that looked as if they would be much more comfortable swimming rather than standing. They trolled the markets, always on the lookout for un-neutered human females. The human womb was an ideal host environment for their eggs. Usually after one spawning, during which the hundreds of miniature squid-like creatures literally crawled out of the host’s body upon hatching, the girls went mad and had to be constantly restrained. Most only survived 2 or 3 spawns before becoming completely catatonic and needing to be put down.

 

 

 

The boy wasn’t faring much better. A nearly seven-foot tall waiflike demon with damp blue-gray flesh stretched painfully over its bones was clinically examining the boy. Likely a breed farmer looking for new stock to add to his stable. Occasionally the demon would make a comment to his squat companion, who in turn made a notation on a tablet.

 

 

 

When the demon reached underneath the boy’s sheath and began to evaluate his manly bits, the human was unable to hide the revulsion on his face.

 

 

 

Spike had seen enough. Angelus was always harping on him for not taking advantage of his status as ‘demon lord’, but Spike had never been interested in owning slaves. Who needed a fawning sycophant, especially one that had to be fed and clothed, and had messy bodily functions? These two, however, had managed to capture his interest, and that was something quite rare lately.

 

 

 

Spike stepped up onto the dais, between the slaves. The overseer was making his sales pitch; outlining the skills the two possessed to the crowd and trying to generate more interest. The Corswa demon was now apparently doing more than just feeling the girl up, judging by the clenching of her jaw and the beads of sweat appearing on her brow.

 

 

 

In the blink of the eye, Spike reached out and roughly pinched the sensitive forehead crest of the Corswa demon with his left hand, pulling it closer to him. It howled in pain and was forced to retract its tentacle or risk losing it. Spike shoved the demon quickly off the back end of the dais. His right hand shot out, just a blur, and snatched the throat of the spindly demon before pushing it off the back end of the dais into the ally behind as well. “Move along,” he snarled.

 

 

 

The spindly blue demon’s companion came up on Spike’s right and attempted to restrain him. Spike spun, quickly grabbing its arm and tossing it after its companion. He felt his face shift, vision sharpening as his brow ridges rose and his fangs fully extended. He slid his hands under his coat, and from the small of his back he pulled two silver railroad spikes from their hidden sheaths. He splayed his arms and took a fighting stance, holding the spikes as he would a pair of sai’s. They gleamed wickedly in the bright artificial light. “Still want to play?” he asked.

 

 

 

The Corswa paled, and spat. “Ischtt Vanshi!” Dirty Vampire.

 

 

 

Silver was corrosive to them; any contact and their flesh began to melt away. If they were lucky, they would only have to quickly sever a tentacle or two to halt the spread of damage. A touch to the head or torso was deadly. It glowered at the metal in Spike’s hand for a moment longer before slinking off, inching along on its 4 ballast tentacles. sssliss-thump, sssliss-thump.

 

 

 

The other two demons stalked off, grumbling about vampires being rash and violent half-breeds. They knew however that the market was full of humans for breeding. The boy was a good find, but there would be others.

 

 

 

Spike turned to the overseer, tucking his weapons back in their sheaths. “I’ll take them both,” he said, as if nothing untoward had happened.

 

 

 

Riley blinked for a moment, and then regained his composure and said in a firm voice, “I’m sorry sir, this stock must be sold separately. I’ll gladly sell you either one.”

 

 

 

Spike stepped closer the overseer. “Look, mate, sorry about the ruckus,” Spike said, completely unremorseful, “But I’m on a tight schedule. You’re selling, I’m buying. I’ll take the two of ‘em.”

 

 

 

Riley paled, but held his tone firm. “I’m sorry, Sir. The stock is set for individual sale.”

 

 

 

Spike asked coldly, “Know who I am, boy?”

 

 

 

Riley’s eyes darted to the Council emblem on Spikes coat. “Yes, Sir,” he said crisply.

 

 

 

“Your owners refusing to do business with me, then?”

 

 

 

“No, Sir,” Riley said firmly.

 

 

 

Spike made a show of looking Riley over from head to toe, before he tilted his head to one side and said, “You belong to the Phelon, yeah?”

 

 

 

Riley nodded. “Yes, Sir,” he replied, and squared his shoulders, bringing himself to full attention.

 

 

 

Spike rolled his eyes at the show of bravado and said, “Phelon would sell their own mother for a profit. They never met a bottom line that they didn’t like. I’m the offer you can’t refuse.” Spike held up his council I-dent card, and said, “Ring them up.”

 

 

 

He tossed the card at Riley, who snagged it out of the air in an unexpectedly graceful move. The boy had great reflexes.

 

 

 

Spike thought he caught the briefest hint of a smile on the overseer’s lips, before he schooled his features into an unreadable mask and turned to ring up the purchase.

 

 

 

As Spike was walking away with his new pets in tow, his pocket vid buzzed. “On my way, Gen,” he answered without looking at the screen, and then hung up.

 

 


 

Intro Part 2

 

Tara sat with Xander in the back of their new master’s transport. Immediately after purchasing them, the vampire had led them to the loading docks, and into the cargo area of his transport. He clipped their leashes to the rods provided.

 

 

 

“Sit,” he said, indicating the metal bench. Before even confirming that they had followed his orders, he turned strode out of the cargo area, leaving the hatch doors open calling over his shoulder, “No talking.”

 

 

 

They sat. Tara looked at Xander, seeing that her own surprise was mirrored on his face.

 

 

 

The vampire had returned almost immediately with a third slave. Even if the girl hadn’t been entirely nude, except for a gaudy bow, Tara could tell she had been sold as a toy. The girl had the disturbingly vacant eyes and rapturous smile on her lips that all the toys shared. It was like cheerful catatonia. Tara felt her stomach clench in a sick knot.

 

 

 

Toys were the hottest new thing on the slave market; they didn’t really require training, just looks. Even though it was forbidden, slavers kept them strung out on Bliss Gas or kept them under spells long enough to sell them. Most of them didn’t live long enough for their owners to notice a personality change when these control methods wore off.

 

 

 

Once the toy had been loaded, the vampire had locked the cargo area, and the transport took off.

 

 

 

Tara wasn’t sure how long they traveled, although it seemed like quite awhile. She was just thankful that she could sit, and wasn’t required to kneel on the hard metal floor for the entire journey.

 

 

 

Once they stopped, Tara was surprised that the vampire wasn’t the one who opened the doors, but a SevenGen unit.

 

 

 

She came in scowling and muttering. All Tara could pick up was “…stupid vampire…” and “…not a dictaphone…”

 

 

 

The SevenGen unclipped the toy’s leash and said loudly “We …Are …Leaving. Do…You…Understand?” as if the girl were deaf, or spoke a foreign language. The girl didn’t respond, but smiled wider and rose slightly unsteadily to her feet as her leash was tugged. The SevenGen sighed dramatically and pulled the girl out.

 

 

 

After the doors were shut and locked again, Tara risked another look at Xander. He raised his eyebrows, and mouthed “What the …?” Tara shrugged and shook her head.

 

 

 

She had never even heard of slave owners who allowed their personal assistants to be blatantly disrespectful in front of their slaves, or to handle slaves directly. As far as Tara knew, that task was always reserved for demons or trained overseers.

 

 

 

Now that they were alone, she and Xander moved closer together so their thighs and shoulders touched. She didn’t know how long they’d be together, and she wanted to take advantage of this small bit of comfort. She didn’t dare talk to him, and she fervently hoped he stayed quiet too. Xander sometimes babbled when he was nervous. She had no idea what the vampire would do if he were disobeyed.

 

 

 

They sat like this, silently communing until the doors flung open loudly.

 

 

 

She and Xander immediately slid apart, and watched as a large metal storage box of some kind was loaded into the cargo area. The box was so heavy, the transport settled appreciatively under its weight.

 

 

 

Two demons, of a species Tara didn’t recognize, climbed into the transport and began to maneuver the box inside. They must have been incredibly strong, even for demons. They made quick work of securing the object, their iridescent blue skin not even breaking a sweat. Just as they snapped the final latch in place, the vampire sauntered in.

 

 

 

He glared as the blue demons brushed past him to exit the transport, but didn’t say anything. He walked around the perimeter of the box, and confirmed that it was secured, and then headed over to where Tara and Xander were fastened.

 

 

 

As he stood in front of Tara, he pulled a small object out of his coat pocket. She recognized it as a portable scanner. They were used to download information encoded on a slave’s collar. She lifted her chin and tilted her head so he had access to the port on her collar.

 

 

 

As the information was downloading, she felt her new master’s hand stroke the side of her chin and tilt her head slightly so she was facing him. Her eyes locked with his, and she immediately lowered her gaze respectfully.

 

 

 

She looked up again as she felt him impatiently tap her face, locking eyes with him once again. He had the most intense blue eyes she had ever seen. They seemed to bore into her very soul. She desperately wanted to look away; her skin nearly itched with the intensity of his stare. When she heard the scanner beep, indicating that the scan was complete, the moment was broken.

 

 

 

She gratefully looked away as he removed the scanner and moved to scan Xander’s collar. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he also forced Xander to look him in the eye during the scan. She hoped Xander would be able to keep his hostility in check.

 

 

 

Once he had completed the scan, he ran a thumb gently across Xander’s’ lips. “So pretty” the vampire said softly, and then laughed when Xander jerked back slightly.

 

 

 

Tara held her breath to see what type of punishment Xander had earned. She was again taken by surprise when the vampire simply pocketed the scanner. He skirted around the cargo box and strode out, saying, “Got it Gen, let’s get the hell out of here”.

 

 

 

Before they heard her answer, the rear doors closed and were locked again, leaving Tara and Xander alone, with the box.

 

 

 

As the transport started up again, she and Xander again moved together. She risked laying her head on his shoulder. It was awkward with their hands bound, but worth it for the comfort.

 

 

 

Tara was also glad for the warmth. The temperature seemed to be dropping. It must have been much closer to nightfall than she had realized.

 

 

 

It never occurred to her that the drop in temperature might have something to do with the cargo box they picked up.

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

 

Spike slid out the vid-screen and attached the scanner to the port on the side. Gen was being blessedly silent, sitting across from him.

 

 

 

Arvis had been thrilled with Spikes gift. He had the dozy girl on her knees, sucking his three cocks like a pro within minutes of their arrival. He ordered his minions about to get the cargo loaded into Spikes transport and off his hands.

 

 

 

Spike was glad to be out of there.

 

 

 

On the vid, Spike looked over the information the portable scanner had retrieved from his newly acquired slaves.

 

 

 

Summary – SID 875496

 

Verbal Identifier: Tara

 

Species: HUMAN, Captive born

 

Litter: #1147856

 

Gender: FEMALE

 

Magical Proficiency: LEVEL 8.5/10

 

Breeding Potential: Breedable / Unspayed

 

Overall Health: HEALTHY

 

Current Age: 21

 

Life Expectancy: 45-50 yrs

 

more

 

 

 

 

Summary – SID 564721

 

Verbal Identifier: Alexander

 

Species: HUMAN, Captive born

 

Litter: # 1147850; reassigned #1147856

 

Gender: MALE

 

Magical Proficiency: LEVEL 2/10

 

Breeding Potential: Breedable / Unneutered

 

Overall Health: HEALTHY

 

Current Age: 20

 

Life Expectancy: 25 – 30 yrs

 

more

 

 

 

The data stored on their collars was fairly mundane. Mostly a listing of skills the two had acquired. Tara and Alexander seemed to have the good, or perhaps poor, fortune to only have one owner. Phelon were notorious for working their stock exceptionally hard to earn additional profit from them.

 

 

 

The skill lists for the two of them were lengthy. Both had worked the infamous Phelon tents, although Tara more extensively than Alexander. She could do a fair bit of spell casting, and excelled at potions. Alexander had a wealth of experience in nearly all fields of manual labor, from kitchen duty to carpentry.

 

 

 

Once Spike scrolled through all the data, he realized he acquired the most useful information while running the scan. His new purchases were very interesting.

 

 

 

Tara was nearly in a panic when he’d looked her in the eye, but she’d done as he’d commanded. She was very accommodating, and wanted to remain unobtrusive, and his perusal had made her exceedingly uncomfortable. But she bore it because it was what he desired. He wanted that kind of unquestioning loyalty in a slave.

 

 

 

Alexander, however seemed to wear his defiance on his proverbial sleeve. His eyes flashed and sparked when he’d been forced to meet Spikes gaze. If his file didn’t indicate he had been born a slave, Spike would have sworn he had been recently enslaved. He smiled at the memory of how the boy had flinched when Spike had stroked his mouth. The boy’s passion was arousing. To manage to break him and yet keep all that passion would be a challenge.

 

 

 

Spike had to make a decision; he had purchased the two of them because they seemed quite close. That closeness gave him the advantage in leveraging their affections to suit his needs. He was tired of being bored and it seemed like an interesting challenge to mold one of these two into his perfect slave and possibly a claimant.

 

 

 

He had no interest in acquiring multiple slaves and sponsoring them indefinitely in the pleasure houses, like Angelus did. He only wanted to sponsor one of them, to slowly bend and corrupt until there was nothing but the desire to please him. The question was which one?

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

 

Xander didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry at the irony of belonging to a vampire. As it was, he sat in silence in back of the transport for the long journey, offering any comfort to Tara that he could. It was his fault that they’d been sold.

 

 

 

He knew that he owed Riley his life, and possibly Tara’s as well. He’d done the unforgivable, although the only regret he had was he’d unintentionally harmed Tara. She’d been taken from the only home she’d known because of him, and it was likely that without Riley’s intervention, Xander had put her life in danger as well.

 

 

 

Xander silently vowed to do anything he could to make things right for Tara, if he could. He owed her that.

 

 

 

The debt he owed Riley was one he probably couldn’t repay. Since Riley had been able to successfully negotiate with Master Tamor, Xander was fairly certain he knew what the overseer had to sacrifice to keep him alive. Tamor had been after Riley to join his warrior stable for quite some time. Riley had been given a choice because of his status as overseer. The warrior games were brutal, and Riley had been resisting.

 

 

 

It was only a matter of time before Tamor found the right leverage to persuade Riley. Gambling on Riley in the games was a far more profitable use of his skills and training. The Phelon were nothing if not greedy and ruthless in pursuit of profit. Tamor would never have rested until he had managed to ‘convince’ Riley, but Xander hated the fact that he and Tara been the leverage their former master needed.

 

 

 

When Xander had been up on the auction block, he’d been disgusted to realize that the first demon interested in him seemed to be a breeder. Although when the bluish freak slid part of an unwelcome and painfully unlubricated finger into Xander, he thought the creature might have been looking for something else. When the vampire had jumped on the dais and tossed the others off, and demanding to buy them together, Xander hadn’t known if he should cheer or puke. He settled on being glad that Tara was spared Corswa spawning.

 

 

 

Xander was grateful that they’d been purchased together, but once they’d been situated in the transport and he’d seen the toy being loaded as well, he’d become afraid for Tara. He was sick that the poor girl had been reduced to a mindless sex toy for a demon and feared a similar fate for Tara. He was ashamed to find that he breathed a sigh of relief as the nameless girl had been dropped off as a gift. It did not bode well for them if the toy was for their owner.

 

 

 

Xander was puzzled when he realized that the large blue demons were securing a cryo-box. They were used to transport humans over long distances, keeping them in stasis. He wondered what, or who was in it.

 

 

 

When their new master, the nameless blond vampire, came in to scan their collars, his behavior reinforced the fact that he didn’t seem to follow any protocol. Xander had a tough enough time obeying well outlined rules, erratic behavior made things that much harder.

 

 

 

Xander was ashamed with himself that he was unable to control his anger and disgust at being touched by the soulless creature. He wasn’t so stupid to tell the demon what he thought, but he had been unable to keep himself from flinching when it had touched his mouth. He had the nauseating feeling that there was a possibility that the vampire would be touching more of him than his face. Better him though, than Tara. He would do anything to spare her that. He just hoped he had the opportunity to offer.

 

 

 

When the transport finally slowed and then stopped, he and Tara reluctantly separated from each other. This was possibly the last time they’d see each other. The rear doors flew open and the SevenGen unit appeared. She seemed irate again, and somehow managed to stalk around the large cryo-box toward them.

 

 

 

“You two breathers going to give me trouble?” she asked them.

 

 

 

Xander and Tara looked at each other, and then shook their heads.

 

 

 

“Come on then,” she said with a sigh, unclipping their leashes. “I’ve got to get you to clean-up and off to observation. You’d think I had nothing better to do than pet sit,” she grumbled to herself as she led them out of the transport. “Try to keep up, will you?”

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

 

“Spikey! Glad to see you made it.” Angelus bellowed in a superficially cheerful voice, patting Spike on the back with deliberate excessive force. Spike rolled his eyes, everything was so dramatic with Angelus. Spike was thankful that he’d sent his newly acquired slaves off with Gen to be prepared for his evaluation.

 

 

 

“Yes, I managed to get your stupid box back here in one piece,” Spike sighed, then asked “Gonna tell me what’s in it, seeing as how I traipsed all over this god forsaken place to get it here?”

 

 

 

“See, now I was going to ask you about that. You seem a little tense. Didn’t everything go smoothly?”

 

 

 

“Oh, save the concern. You know exactly how things went down.”

 

 

 

“What makes you think ...” Angelus started

 

 

 

Spike cut him off. “I’ve been here for five minutes, Angelus, and you haven’t bitched once. About anything. I stroll in here hours late with a package you’ve been anticipating for weeks, and all you can manage is ‘you seem tense?’ Tosser.”

 

 

 

“Spike, I’m wounded,” Angelus mock gasped, clasping his hands over his heart. “I care about your well being.”

 

 

 

“Whatever. I’m outta here.” Spike turned and started to walk out.

 

 

 

“Tell Gen I said ‘Hi,’” Angelus called after Spike.

 

 

 

Spike didn’t even turn to answer; he just lifted his left hand up and flipped Angelus off over his shoulder.

 

 

 

Spike heard Angelus chuckle as he strode out. Prick.

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

 

His slaves had been separated and were now awaiting his formal evaluation locked in their own examination rooms. He was currently viewing live feed of his new stock on a split vid-screen in the small control room he occupied.

 

 

 

Both pets were kneeling in the rest position, backs straight, buttocks resting on their heels and hands resting loosely on their thighs. They were both wearing sheer tunics now, presumably from their cleanup, instead of the other gear.

 

 

 

Spike still wasn’t sure which one of them he wanted to sponsor.

 

 

 

He’d been to the main admin office at the pleasure house, registering his intent and getting an appointment for check-in and the initial exam. He still had to fill out his specific examination requirements, but the prelim had been taken care of.

 

 

 

He shook his head. You’d think this place was run by a bunch of humans with the insane levels of bureaucracy.

 

 

 

The pleasure houses were run by Mimeologe Demons. The whole lot of them were clones. It was unnerving to see so many duplicates milling about, but they didn’t believe in associating carnally with anything, so the task suited them perfectly.

 

 

 

He really only half listened to his obligations as sponsor. The basics that he’d gleaned were that they would train his slave to his specifications. The slave would then have to work off Spike training debt with other clients until or unless he decided to issue a claiming challenge. He’d be allowed access to his slave at any point he’d like. Spike figured he’d work out the specifics later.

 

 

 

Looking at the vid, his eyes lingered on the girl, she had such a soft lush body. He could imagine stroking her for hours, denying her release until she begged him to do something, anything, and then sinking roughly into her warm welcoming flesh sending her over the edge with his forceful thrusts, driving hard into her as he rode out his own release.

 

 

 

And the boy, so full of passion and anger. To have him on his knees wrapping those pretty lips around Spike’s cock intent on pleasuring him. Spike could almost see the boy glaring up at him resentfully with those dark eyes, being betrayed by his own hard cock hanging heavily between his legs, throbbing for release.

 

 

 

Spike closed his eyes and thought: Moment of Truth… The Lady or the Tiger?

 

 

 

When he opened his eyes and looked back at the vid, he grinned. Choice made. He walked to the proper door and keyed it open.

 

 

End

 


 

The Lady: Chapter 1 - The Test

 

Tara was kneeling. She hated kneeling for extended periods of time; she had never mastered the art of tuning out and just accepting. She always did her best to relax, but she inevitably hit a point where it felt like her skin was going to crawl off from the pressure to remain perfect. It was ironic, really; she never had a problem meditating when it was required for spells. Her shoulders ached from holding the pose, and she was constantly conscious of the surface below her knees; currently a slick black slightly elastic floor. Tara could feel it give slightly under her knees.

 

 

 

She was thankful that at least she was not required to kneel up.

 

 

 

The room she was in was nearly bare. The only object in the room was a single chair. She mentally shook her head. The only other object in the room was the chair. Her master undoubtedly saw her as an object as well. She assumed he was watching her.

 

 

 

Once she and Xander had been taken off the transport by the SevenGen, they were moved to some sort of processing center. Their collars were scanned, and they were entered into the council’s slave tracking computer system. She’d been a slave all her life, but had never seen anything on this scale before. She had known that her new master was affiliated with the Aurelian Council, she had seen the emblem on his coat, but she hadn’t realized that he was actually on the council. She had also learned that his name was Spike, which terrified her.

 

 

 

She and Xander had been led to a cleaning chamber filled with several human slaves acting as bath attendants. Once their hands were unbound and their leashes unclipped, they were instructed to remove their clothes. One of the slaves exited with their garments while several others began washing her and Xander. She was relieved to be unfettered and cleaned.

 

 

 

An attendant approached her with some sort of wand. “Your master requested that you be fully cleaned,”she said, almost apologetically. Before Tara had had time to process what the girl had said, she felt the tip of the wand caress her sex. She relaxed herself and didn’t fight when the girl slipped the wand inside her and turned it on, gently bathing her insides.

 

 

 

It was awkward with the SevenGen standing off to the side, occasionally muttering odd comments, but having someone soap and rinse away the residue of the foul tentacle that had caressed her thighs and then plunged into her without warning, expanding and pulsing sickly, was worth the slight discomfort. She was thankful that the water running out of her was clear and clean. She had been terrified that the Corswa demon had been in the act of implanting her with its spawn.

 

 

 

When they finished washing and drying both she and Xander, handed simple sheer tunics to wear made of a fabric barely more substantial than paper. Once she slipped it on, she wondered why they had bothered with the garments at all. The cloth was so sheer that it was transparent.

 

 

 

The SevenGen had escorted both her and Xander into some sort of control room, then moved her to one room, and Xander to another. They had been instructed to kneel until their master arrived to claim them. The door had clicked shut,locking her in until her new master retrieved her.

 

 

 

The click of the lock disengaging was the only warning she got before she heard the door open behind her. Her master had arrived. She tensed.

 

 

 

He had changed clothes since she had last seen him. Gone was the long black coat; he was now wearing a loose lounging jacket that hung to mid thigh, and a pair of soft looking silk pants that tied loosely at the waist. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his feet were bare. He walked around her to pick up the chair and then moved it directly in front of her. Then he sat down, spreading his knees apart and resting his elbows on them, hands dangling loosely between his legs and bending his head forward so he could catch her eye.

 

 

 

Tara lowered her gaze, respectfully.

 

 

 

“Hey now, none of that,” he said gently, then reached out to lift her chin up. “Look at me,” he commanded softly.

 

 

 

She raised her eyes and did as she was told. When he saw he was being obeyed, he released her chin and sat back in the chair.

 

 

 

“So, Tara, right?” he asked her, and she nodded. “I’m Spike.

 

 

 

“So,Tara…can you tell me why a clan of greedy Phelon demons, known for their love of driving a hard bargain, were willing to let one of their overseers sell two slaves, instead of handling it themselves?”

 

 

 

His question surprised her. Although she hadn’t known what to expect from the vampire, it certainly wasn’t that. It filled her with dread. She quickly tried to think of an explanation. “I..,” she began.

 

 

 

“Now, pet,” he cut her off, his tone hardening slightly. “Whatever tale you are thinking of spinning, don’t.”

 

 

 

She knew she had to answer, but she was terrified of what he would do to Xander. “I-I wasn’t planning on deceiving you, Master,” she said. “It’s just, my brother, he…” She couldn’t get the words past her throat. She was so distraught that she didn’t notice the predatory look that flashed across Spike’s face, quickly replaced by one of mild concern.

 

 

 

“Boy’s your brother then?” Spike confirmed.

 

 

 

She nodded. “We were raised together. His parents were…taken away...when he was really young, so my mother raised him.” Tara paused. “Since she died, we’ve looked out for each other.”

 

 

 

“And he’s done something, hasn’t he?” Spike guessed. “Something you’re afraid to tell me?”

 

 

 

“Y-Yes, Master.”

 

 

 

He looked irritated for a moment, and then said, “Look, keep the formalities for when we’re in public, yeah. When it’s just us, call me Spike, got it?”

 

 

 

Tara was taken aback, but answered, “Yes, S-s-spike.”

 

 

 

Spike nodded and then continued. “So, thing is, only thing you’d be too afraid to tell me he killed a demon.” Tara felt the color drain from her face. “And if I’m not mistaken, punishment is death, no exceptions.”

 

 

 

Tara shuddered and the dreaded word slipped out of her mouth. “Abattoir”.

 

 

 

“Vampire?” Spike asked her, and she nodded miserably. “And yet somehow, you managed to save him. How?”

 

 

 

“I-I did a favor for our overseer, Riley. Last spring. Somehow he intervened.” She didn’t want to think about what he must have done for her. “H-He wasn’t supposed to sell us together.”

 

 

 

“Must have been a big favor…,” Spike prompted her.

 

 

 

“H-His sister, Dawn. They started her working the tents when she was 14. G-Girls that young get pregnant easily. I-I did a spell to protect her. H-he didn’t want her to be a marked as a breeder.” Tara closed her eyes. Spike could have her put to death for admitting that. Her eyes flicked open suddenly as she felt a cool hand cupping her cheek. Spike was gently lifting her until she was kneeling up and looking him in the face.

 

 

 

“I’ll make a deal with you, precious. I’ll keep your brother safe, get him working somewhere that you can see him regular, and in exchange, you train to become my pleasure slave.” Spike withdrew his hand, making the offer less of a command.

 

 

 

Her mind raced; he wanted her to sleep with him, willingly. Trading herself for her brother’s safety. She told Riley that she’d work the tents, offered to work them continuously, for Xander’s safety. But a pleasure slave was different. She’d never seen one, but she’d heard that they were taught to enjoy the degradation their demon masters demanded. Would it be worth it if she knew that her brother, her only remaining family, was safe?

 

 

 

“I-I accept, S-Spike,” she answered in a whisper, terrified of what that answer meant. She really didn’t have any choice.

 

 

 

He grinned predatorily. “Thing is, you can say it’s what you want. But you’ll say anything to protect the boy, won’t you?

 

 

 

“Being a pleasure slave isn’t about the act you are performing, it’s about the act you are performing. You have to convince me you can do it. Don’t care how, just prove to me that if I sponsor your training, you’ll not disappoint me.”

 

 

 

Tara racked her brain. She was relatively unskilled in acts of pleasure. Humans were not generally allowed to co-mingle unsupervised unless they were breeders, and what she did in the tents did not qualify as ‘skillful acts of pleasure.’ And she knew that this bargain would cost her the one part that she had always managed to keep for herself, locked away from prying demon eyes. They could manipulate her body, but her mind, her self was always hers.

 

 

 

And then it came to her. She might have to give herself to him, but not this minute. She could convince Spike that she wouldn’t embarrass him while getting her training, and still hold on, at least for this moment, to her self respect. She knew what she could do.

 

 

 

She gathered every ounce of bravery she had and removed the tunic she’d been given. She tossed the useless fabric aside, where it crumpled next to Spike’s chair.

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

 

Spike was impressed with how things had progressed with the girl. He’d been surprised when she’d told him the boy had killed a vampire, only because he didn’t seem like a fighter. Spike really couldn’t care less. If the vamp was stupid enough to get dusted by that scrap of a boy, they’d gotten what they deserved.

 

 

 

He was interested to see what the girl did to pass his ‘test’. He leaned back in his chair. He expected that she’d probably go for his cock, and inexpertly suck him off. He really just wanted to make sure she knew her place. Although a blowjob wouldn’t hurt either; his cock stirred a bit at the thought of her warm, wet mouth enveloping him.

 

 

 

She surprised him by removing the nothing little tunic she’d been wearing. He watched as she kneeled back down. She looked like she was trying to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. He was even more surprised when her hands began gently exploring her own body.

 

 

 

She lightly stroked her neck with both hands, and then started to move them down until they were caressing her large breasts. Fingertips smoothed over hardening nipples, back and forth, back and forth. Not really flicking them, just gently grazing their tips. The grimace on her face was softening into a smile. Her hands slid down and cupped her breasts, and she continued softly stroking her nipples with her thumbs now, back and forth, fluttering over the tightened flesh. Spike could smell the first hint of her arousal sweetly beginning to flow out of her. She slid both hands down her belly, slowing to whisper fingers across her lower belly, below the navel, before her hands slid down past her sex to drift the soft flesh of her inner thighs. He could see the wetness gathering like dew on her pussy hair. When her fingers finally traveled between her legs to gently caress her clit, Spike saw her smile transform into a wicked grin for a split second, before it melted back into the pleasurable smile.

 

 

 

Spike’s cock had hardened the moment he realized that instead of pleasing him as he had expected, she was pleasuring herself. Giving him a show. Clever girl this one. He was already pleased with his choice. He didn’t want to discourage his girl, but he wanted to up the ante a bit, see what she’d do.

 

 

 

He loosened the drawstring on his pants, and slipped the material down enough to expose his cock and balls and stroked himself a little bit, watching the girl’s slick fingers glide across her clit. She was breathing faster now, her hips shifting gently up as she caressed herself.

 

 

 

“Lovely as that looks pet, I’d like you to come up here,” Her hand stilled immediately, her eyes losing their unfocused look. She blushed furiously suddenly embarrassed with what she had been doing. When she saw him teasing his cock with one hand, she blanched and Spike could smell the fear pour off her in waves.

 

 

 

“Not changing the rules, Precious, just the venue,” he patted his thigh with the hand that wasn’t currently occupied, and then held it out to her.

 

 

 

He could tell she was reluctant, but took his hand anyway. He helped guide her into place, using both hands settle her so she was properly straddling his right thigh. He curled his right arm around her, resting it in the middle of her back, giving her support and also forcing her to wrap one of her arms around him.

 

 

 

She was stiff and awkward, displaying none of the sensuous pleasure she had on the floor. Her eyes shifted around nervously, as her hand clenched and unclenched on her thigh.

 

 

 

He placed his hand on hers, “Look at me”. Her eyes snapped to meet his and he noticed for the first time that they were blue, “you were doing just fine. Now close your eyes and I want you to relax.”

 

 

 

She closed her eyes, as he ordered.

 

 

 

He lifted her hand, guiding it across her body, mimicking the gestures she had used to arouse herself. He was very careful not to touch her himself, he only manipulated her hand. Once her body had lost some of its tension, he guided her hand between her legs and released it.

 

 

 

She started stroking slowly at first, still tentative and self conscious, but she soon became more ardent as her arousal increased.

 

 

 

Once her breath became ragged and she was totally focused on her own pleasure, he brought his hand down to his still hard cock. He kept his touches feather light teasing himself and gathering up the pre-come as it bubbled out, using it to slick his shaft.

 

 

 

He watched her intently. Her hips were thrusting counter point to her fingers and she would gasp slightly each time she dipped her fingers into her opening to gather more moisture. Her pale pink nipples tightened into hard points, and she would occasionally arch her back slightly, as if she were searching for additional stimulation. He was tempted to take one in his mouth, they were so close and nearly begging for attention. He held himself back though. He needed to gain her trust if his plan was ever going to succeed.

 

 

 

Her occasional gasps were turning into more frequent moans, and her hips churned faster. He got jolts of pleasure himself as her gyrations forced her warm thigh into contact with his ball sack, gently nudging it.

 

 

 

She stilled her hand and rocked her hips against it, moaning as she came. As she went to pull her hand away, Spike slipped his own hand up off his cock, and pinned her hand in place. She bucked again and again, drawing out her orgasm, She continued keening as her hips kept grinding wildly against the pressure of both of their hands.

 

 

 

When she finally came down, Spike released her hand. She lowered herself so she was resting fully on his thigh, her release soaking into his pants. She rested her head on his chest and curled her slick hand up next to her chin. She looked like a kitten that had too much cream; satiated, sleepy and happy.

 

 

 

Spike just wanted to slide her into his lap and shove his cock so far into her he could see it in her throat. He started to pump himself in earnest. If he couldn’t fuck her, he could at least mark her. He moaned when he felt a warm hand join his, stroking in tandem. He increased his speed, and she followed suit, until he was ready to spill.

 

 

 

When he felt the first spurt of his release, he directed it toward her. Pulse after pulse jetted out, spattering on her soft flesh. He relaxed back against the chair, now nearly boneless himself. He brought her slick hand up to his lips coated in both their releases, and gently began licking it clean. Tara hadn’t moved her head from his shoulder, but tilted it up now, watching him devour his feast. When he completed his task, he lowered her arm to her side pinning it in place with his right hand.

 

He looked down at the expanse of flesh now exposed to him, dotted with his cream. His free hand sought out every spot, and rubbed his essence into her skin until his scent permeated her skin. He made sure to liberally spread some across both breasts, and her pussy, deliberately teasing her flesh and delighting in the first stirrings of her renewed arousal.

 

 

 

When he was satisfied that she was marked to his satisfaction, and sufficiently wanting, he stopped stroking her. “You are brilliant, Precious. Such a lovely choice,” he said.

 

 

 

“I-I’ve pleased you then?” she stammered quietly.

 

 

 

“You’ve earned your keep, Precious. And the boy’s”

 


 

The Lady: Chapter 2 - Grooming

 

Tara was finding that mortification could be boundless.

 

 

 

Spike had not allowed her to dress after their…encounter. Nor had he leashed her. Somehow being leash-less and still willing to follow her Master through the corridors made her feel more naked. Tara kept her eyes down, but could feel the gaze of those she passed, measuring her, judging her, and by extension her Master.

 

 

 

Spike had brought her to the pleasure house training center. Once he had identified himself as her sponsor, he had been whisked away to discuss his desires and obligations. He left her in the care of a handler named Risa. She was a squat, purplish demon, with burning red eyes, and thick claws on her hands and feet.

 

 

 

As soon as Spike was out of sight, Risa clipped a leash on her, saying in a thickly accented voice, “Don’ wan’ you going nowhere.”

 

 

 

Risa moved surprisingly fast for such a short, fat demon. Tara had difficulty keeping up. When she did fall behind, her leash was tugged harshly, causing her to nearly lose her balance. She had the feeling that Risa was hoping she’d fall. She also had the feeling that Risa would drag her along by the leash if she did.

 

 

 

Risa led Tara to a non-descript room where she quickly clipped her leash to a ring that descended from the ceiling at the push of a button. Risa quickly bound Tara’s hands behind her, and then adjusted another control that retracted the leash ring, forcing Tara to balance precariously on her toes, or risk strangulation.

 

 

 

As she left, Risa said “Stay dere,” chuffing harshly in apparent laughter.

 

 

 

It seemed like hours later, when Tara heard the door open. Her back was to the door, so she couldn’t see who had entered, but she heard a sharp hiss, and then the ring descended again, allowing her to fully regain her footing.

 

 

 

“I hate it when she does that.” Tara heard an exasperated voice say.

 

 

 

“Check her neck.” A second voice.

 

 

 

Two identical demons walked around Tara so they faced her. They both appeared female and had shoulder length jet black hair, lavender eyes, and pointed ears. The only difference between the two was the color of their form-fitting uniforms – one wore emerald green and the other sapphire blue. The one in green held a compu-tablet that she scrolled through. The other came over to Tara and examined her neck, lifting her collar up and turning her head from side to side.

 

 

 

“No bruises,” Blue said.

 

 

 

Green marked something on her tablet. “Examine her for wounds or other imperfections.”

 

 

 

Blue clinically examined every inch of Tara, including her teeth and gums, the underside of her breasts, and between her labia. To examine her hands, fingers and wrists her hands were unbound, and the demon didn’t bother to rebind them.

 

 

 

Tara felt as if she was a piece of furniture, or an exotic sculpture. It wasn’t as if she expected them to discuss things with her, or ask her opinion, but she was used to being treated as a pet, not an object. They didn’t ask her to move, they manipulated her body. They discussed her as if she didn’t have the capacity to understand them.

 

 

 

Once she was examined for imperfections, Green walked behind her and Tara heard her press a button. There was a swift whoosh and then a mechanical whir behind her. Then Blue removed both her leash and collar, and then gently pushed her backwards into a chair that had been secreted beneath the floor.

 

 

 

Before Tara knew what was happening, Blue latched restraints at her ankles and neck, and was lowering some sort of brace over her arms. Her wrists were attached to the arm braces. When Blue was satisfied that Tara was confined properly, she said to the other demon, “Restraint complete.”

 

 

 

Tara’s chair began to move. It rose up smoothly and elongated, becoming a sort of table. The braces affixed to her arms allowed Blue to smoothly move Tara’s arms from resting at her side to above her head.

 

 

 

Green walked back into Tara’s line of sight, and began reading from her tablet again. “Standard hair removal” she said.

 

 

 

Tears began to well in Tara’s eyes, despite her unwillingness to let these two cruelly indifferent demons know that they had gotten so deeply under her skin. She wanted to scream and cry and tell them to stop what they were doing, but she couldn’t. She had given Spike her word, gone into this with eyes wide open. She kept trying to tell herself that this was worth it, Xander was safe - as safe as she could make him anyway. But this was difficult, much more intimate than she had been prepared for.

 

 

 

She closed her eyes, and tried not to think of what was happening to her.

 

 

 

The demons rubbed her down in various places with some sort of cream or lotion. She could feel the tingle of magic on her skin as it was rubbed in. It was mostly a soothing sensation, and the knots in her stomach began to unclench slightly, she relaxed in an almost-calm state for awhile, until she felt her legs being parted. Tara’s eyes flew open, and she gasped, she couldn’t help it.

 

 

 

Both demons turned to look at her, their odd lavender eyes assessing her coolly in tandem. Then Green grabbed some sort of hand scanner, and ran it over her body.

 

 

 

“Her agitation level is quite high,” she said, checking the readout.

 

 

 

“Unusual,” said Blue replied, frowning. “Is the she in any danger?”

 

 

 

“No, it hasn’t exceeded acceptable upper bounds for a human female.”

 

 

 

Blue cocked her head, thinking “What treatments have been scheduled for her?”

 

 

 

Once again, Green scanned her tablet, calling up the appropriate screen “Prior to her evaluation, this human has only been scheduled for standard hair removal, grooming, and collar fitting. No mention of piercing, branding, tattooing or other non-standard marking.”

 

 

 

Green began scanning through her tablet. “It appears she was recently acquired, and not part of the council’s stable….Previous owners were…Phelon,” she sniffed in disapproval, “They notoriously treat their stock inferiorly.”

 

 

 

Blue nodded in agreement, “She doesn’t appear damaged. Do you think she was a tent worker?”

 

 

 

“Likely. Most females in their stock end up doing it at some point,” Green said, shaking her head and frowning with distaste. “Some males as well, I’ve heard.”

 

 

 

Both demons turned to look at Tara again. Blue placed a hand on Tara’s stomach and rubbed gently as if she were a horse about to bolt. “Do not be alarmed, human, we are merely completing the task of removing the remainder of your body hair as required. We have nothing…,” the demon made what looked like a disgusted face, "untoward planned for your genitals.”

 

 

 

Tara began to relax a bit, when Blue added, patting her again, “You will remain untouched there until your evaluation.”

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“This may be a bit uncomfortable,” Blue said, as she quickly injected something into Tara’s upper arm.

 

 

 

Uncomfortable was not the word Tara would have selected. The first wave of magic ran through her veins like fire, tracing burning paths all over her body. The second wave left her feeling like insects were crawling, biting and burrowing deep all over her skin. She would have gladly scratched every layer off if she still hadn’t been restrained. As it was, she thought she may have screamed and bucked and thrashed in her bonds, but she couldn’t be sure. The third and final wave left her limp tired and spent, listless as the spell settled itself into her bones.

 

 

 

Tara was left feeling as she had on the few occasions she’d been drugged for transport. Her head felt heavy and her thoughts were muzzy, like tiny bees buzzing aimlessly in the cavern of her mind.

 

 

 

She had vague recollections of being maneuvered to some sort of wash basin, and kneeling in it. Blue begin to sluice water over her, cleaning her for the second time today. Tara was unsure if the water was enchanted, or if it was still the after effects of the spell, but she felt as if Blue was washing away more than just dirt and Spike’s seed. It was like her old life was being washed away. Bits of pain and suffering swirled around and around and around down the drain before finally being swallowed by the gaping black maw. Tara was left feeling hollowed out somehow, cleansed and ready for her new life.

 

 

 

They washed her hair, and then spent forever drying and styling it. Tara had never had this much attention paid to her appearance. They were wove bits of stones or beads into it, before they pulled it up into what had to be an elaborate style based upon all the tugging and fastening.

 

 

 

Tara was then seated again in a much more comfortable chair as they went to work on her feet, hands and face. She didn’t even think they were in the same room as before, but couldn’t be sure. She felt stupid and slow, and oddly like a puppet. Raising her limbs or turning her head this way and that as instructed, as if she were on auto-nav.

 

 

 

Once they completed their manipulation of her, she was instructed to stand in front of a mirror. Tara was surprised to see one, since so many demon species didn’t have reflections. As she examined what they had done to her, she flushed a bit. She looked… beautiful. She expected garish and overblown, not this subtle enhancement to her natural form. Her hair was the most startling. It sparkled in the light from the number of jewels they had woven into it. They’d pulled all of her hair up to a central point and then allowed it to spill down like a fountain, complimented and made fuller by using more jewels and even ribbons that they’d affixed there. Her makeup was subtle and designed to flatter her face, they made her eyes bluer and her lips look fuller.

 

 

 

She was nude, and didn’t expect anything less, but it looked strange to see only a small tuft of hair between her legs. Tara supposed that she was lucky that she had that, and that he hadn’t wanted her to be bald there. And thankful that he hadn’t wanted her tattooed or pierced. Or branded. She’d shuddered internally when they had mentioned that as an option.

 

 

 

Blue walked up behind her. “You appear satisfactory for your examination. It’s time for your collar.”

 

 

 

Tara felt something cold being placed around her neck. In the mirror she saw Blue adjusting it so the large opaque white stone oval was centered at her throat. The rest of the collar was simple, really just a wide band of thick silver, stone set in the middle with a couple of ornate rings framing it. The rings currently lay flush against the collar, but Tara assumed that they could be raised easily for a leash to be affixed to them. Once Blue was satisfied with the placement, Tara felt her slide the ends of the collar together at the nape of her neck. She wanted to shiver as the collar bound itself together magically, but was unable to.

 

 

 

The demon she still kept calling Blue in her head escorted her down the hall, to what she was guessing was the evaluation room. Tara wasn’t quite sure what happened to Green and her compu-tablet. The disorientation was thankfully passing. She still had that odd puppet-like feeling, but her brain no longer felt fuzzy.

 

 

 

The door whooshed open, and Blue guided Tara inside. Green (or a demon just like her) was standing off to one side, next to Spike. They turned to look at her, as they entered.

 

 

 

Panic welled up inside Tara as she saw what was in the center of the room. It was one of the restraint tables used in the tents. She would have run screaming, but her limbs weren’t cooperating. Instead, she simply stood lax and relaxed as her heart and stomach were trying to claw their way up her throat.

 

 

 

“Kneel” one of the demons said, Tara hadn’t a clue which one.

 

 

 

She knelt, even though she didn’t want to. It wasn’t as if she ever wanted to kneel, but this was different. Her limbs weren’t cooperating with her head. It had to be the spell, terror gripped her, this was one of her worst fears, to be paralyzed inside her own body without the ability to move or talk.

 

 

 

“What’s wrong with her?” Spike asked gruffly.

 

 

 

“Nothing, sir. Your pet is under a compulsion and truth spell. It makes the evaluations go so much more smoothly,” Green explained, “Please direct your pet onto the table so we may begin the evaluation.”

 

 

 

Tara was certain she was going to choke to death. She was going to throw up, and if the compulsion spell didn’t allow her to do anything unless she was ordered, she would suffocate on it.

 

 

 

“Get out,” Spike said coldly to the two female demons.

 

 

 

“Sir, this is most irregular. We must evaluate and examine your pet to determine…”

 

 

 

Spike snatched the tablet from Green’s hands and scrolled through the information there. “She belongs to me, yeah?”

 

 

 

“Well, yes,” Green agreed.

 

 

 

“You gathering the data so she can please me?” Spike continued.

 

 

 

“Of course,” Green bristled now, indignant.

 

 

 

“Then get out. I’ll fill out the bloody form.”

 


 

The Lady: Chapter 3 - Evaluation

 

 

 

 

Spike was pleased with the state of the examination room. They’d managed to acquire the items he requested in a very short period of time.

 

 

 

His pet looked lovely, if a bit disoriented when she entered the room. She seemed almost drugged. As soon as she’d seen the table though, he heard her heart rate speed up to an unhealthy level and the stench of fear coming off of her was almost unbearable.

 

 

 

Externally, she seemed calm and relaxed, and when her escort ordered her to kneel, Tara gracefully knelt in front of him. He’d tossed the Mimeologe’s out after that. Stupid unfeeling clueless lot they were. Tara was beyond terrified, and nearly catatonic, exactly the opposite of how he wanted her.

 

 

 

He could work with the compulsion and truth spells, but first he had to get her to calm down. He tossed the compu-tablet aside. He’d fill the thing out later. He knew what he wanted from Tara anyway.

 

 

 

“You okay?” he asked gently.

 

 

 

“No,” she replied, horrified that the word slipped out of her mouth so easily.

 

 

 

Spike chuckled, “Guess I already knew that. Stand up for me, yeah?”

 

 

 

She rose to her feet.

 

 

 

“Can’t do anything ‘bout the spells, they’ll have to wear off on their own. Need you to relax though. That’s an order.”

 

 

 

She perceptibly relaxed immediately. Her heart slowed down, and she was breathing easier. She kept her eyes on Spike, not looking at the table, and he guessed that she was hoping that it was merely a fixture in the room.

 

 

 

Spike crushed that hope. “You’re gonna have to get on the table, precious. How ‘bout we take things slow though. Just go kneel at the end.”

 

 

 

He had to admit, he really liked the compulsion thing. She smoothly walked over and slid her knees in the grooves provided as if she wasn’t terrified of the damn thing. He had known she’d be afraid of it, that’s why he’d requested one for her examination.

 

 

 

The Phelon designed the tables to facilitate quick sexual encounters. They placed one in a tent, and strapped a slave in, opening them up to service anyone who paid. It was a pretty simple design. The knee wells were mechanized, allowing the slaves legs to be parted easily with the flick of a switch. There was a padded roll that rested against the slave’s hips. The front of the table was a small, lightly padded platform that held the shoulder and head restraints. The slave was bound with their head to the side, or facing forward, depending on if their mouth was to be used for service. There were wrist restraints as well, but usually their arms were bound across their backs. The center of the table wasn’t more than a perpendicular cross beam, connecting the front and rear portions of the table. The whole thing could be folded and stored compactly.

 

 

 

Spike walked behind her and strapped her legs in. He placed a hand in the small of her back and pressed her forward so her hips were resting on the padding provided. He flipped the switch to spread her legs wide apart. “Hands behind your head,” he said gently. He kept his hand in place for balance until she’d complied.

 

 

 

He walked around the table and looked at her. Her hips rested on the padded bar, and her hands were behind her head. It made her pretty tits stand out. He straddled the crossbar and sat down in front of her. “You afraid?” he asked.

 

 

 

“Yes,” she replied.

 

 

 

“Of me?” he asked gently.

 

 

 

“God, yes!” she said, and although her voice was calm, two tears spilled down her face.

 

 

 

He reached up gently and wiped them away. “You’ll spoil your makeup. You look beautiful; did they at least have the sense to show you that?”

 

 

 

“They had a mirror,” she replied.

 

 

 

“Know why you’re here?” he asked, indicating the room with a sweep of his hand.

 

 

 

“For evaluation,” she replied.

 

 

 

“This is going to get bloody boring if we keep playing 20 questions. Think you can have a conversation with me if I order it?” he asked, looking annoyed.

 

 

 

“I don’t know,” she replied.

 

 

 

“Let’s give it a go,” Spike said. “You have permission to speak freely. Talk when you feel like it.”

 

 

 

He cupped her breasts, stroking his thumbs over her puckered nipples, “You had many men?”

 

 

 

She wanted to close her eyes or look away, but his free speaking directive didn’t seem to cover that, “Yes, I’ve been working since I was 12.”

 

 

 

He leaned forward and ran his tongue over one of her nipples. She inhaled sharply at the cool sensation, and he smiled and did it again. He continued to gently lick and suck at her nipple, pausing briefly to ask, “But none willingly?”

 

 

 

“No, not really,” she replied. He’d switched sides now, teasing her other nipple with his lips and tongue. Every touch, lick and suckle, sent a pulse of desire straight between her legs.

 

 

 

“God, your tits are so sensitive, aren’t they,” he said wonderingly, “Should have had them pierced.”

 

 

 

“I’m glad you didn’t,” she replied, and her fear amped up once again.

 

 

 

“Tell me what you’re thinking, precious,” he commanded, continuing his assault on her sensitive breasts. Even through the fear, her arousal increased every time he touched her.

 

 

 

A small whimper escaped her lips before the deluge. “I h-hate this, hate being here, hate being on this t-table and helpless and afraid of how bad you’re going to hurt me today. I’m worried about Xander and don’t believe you won’t hurt him if I don’t do exactly what you say, but I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t want to enjoy being hurt, and I don’t want to have sex with you.” The last bit was a whisper and terror poured off her.

 

 

 

Spike smiled, so much to work with.

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

 

She was horrified that the spell kept dragging out the absolute worst responses. True or not, it was disrespectful and she knew she was going to be punished, probably severely. The Phelon would have had her beaten and possibly given to an overseer for several days for re-education. There was very little that she could do now to protect herself from harm, but she hoped that she hadn’t cost Xander any suffering.

 

 

 

“First off, nothing you do from now on affects your brother. Second, I’m not going to beat you, Tara,” Spike said firmly. He rose from his perch and walked behind her. She still had her hands behind her head, and it was impossible to see what he was doing. She felt him kiss her shoulder blade, before he ran his hand down her side, letting it rest on her hip.

 

 

 

“I don’t believe you,” she whispered, and tears started to fall.

 

 

 

“Know that, but at some point you’re going to have to trust me,” he whispered close to her ear. “Gonna start now with that, I think.”

 

 

 

Spike kept one hand on her hip, and placed the other one in the middle of her back, pressing her forward until her shoulders were resting on the padded platform. The crossbar nestled between her breasts, causing them to hang heavily down. The touch of the cool metal brought back so many horrible memories, all running together in a single nightmarish blur. Memories of bruises down her sternum from the crossbar, on her hips from the support bar, welts and abrasions on her thighs, ankles, neck and wrists from the restraints. Jaw aching from being forced open far too long, and the fiery numbness between her legs.

 

 

 

With her hands behind her head as they were now, her chin slipped easily into the padded notch provided for it. She wondered if Spike would place anything in her mouth to keep it forced open. She’d only been required to wear something a couple of times before she’d learned that it was much easier to accept what she’d been ordered to do.

 

 

 

Spike walked around to the front of the table, and just as she’d feared he was nude and erect. She wanted to close her eyes but couldn’t. He crouched down so she was looking him in the eye.

 

 

 

“Had all sorts of plans to strap you in and show you it doesn’t have to be hard, precious. But you’ve been in this thing much longer than I expected. We’ll do some of what I had planned, but not everything. I won’t hurt you. I know you’re forced to do what I say now, but I asking you to try to do it for me as well. Can you do that?” he asked gently.

 

 

 

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

 

 

 

“Just try,” he said and stroked her cheek.

 

 

 

“Alright,” she replied. She would try to please him, as she always did. He was her Master and that was her lot in life.

 

 

 

“Open your mouth, Tara,” he commanded. His voice was firm but not loud.

 

 

 

She opened her mouth wide, knowing what to expect. Again she wanted to close her eyes, how many times had she done this, how many men and demons had used her this way.

 

 

 

His erect penis hovered just beyond her lips now, pre-come beading the head. “Only want you to suck on the head, Tara, no more.” Spike ordered, and placed his cock in her mouth.

 

 

 

She automatically closed her mouth around the cool flesh. She expected him to thrust into the tunnel that her mouth created, but he held himself still. She tentatively flicked her tongue around the head, tasting the salty pre-come. She froze when he grunted and looked up at him fearfully. His head was thrown back and his whole body was tense.

 

 

 

“Keep going pet, that’s brilliant,” he hissed.

 

 

 

She began to suckle the flesh again, braving a flick of her tongue now and then, when she realized he wasn’t forcing any more of himself inside her yet. She found she opened her mouth a little wider anyway, accepting more of him. He began to rock his hips gently, groaning. “That’s it, precious, take me in.”

 

 

 

With these words, Tara’s heart began hammering in her chest. She was afraid any minute that the thrusts were going to turn savage and begin to bruise the back of her throat. His hips stilled instantly, and he reached down to stroke her face. “You did well, Tara,” he said and pulled his cock out of her mouth with a gentle pop.

 

 

 

He walked out of her line of sight again, and she heard him somewhere around the back of the table, behind her. She knew what was coming and braced herself as best as she could.

 

 

 

She didn’t expect the cool lips and tongue lapping at her open pussy. Gentle fingers began to stroke her softened clit until it began to firm. She felt herself getting slick from his saliva and her own moisture. He slid his tongue down and began to stroke her clit, as he slipped one of his cool fingers inside her. She gasped, unsure if she liked the feeling of his finger stroking inside her. Then he slid another finger inside her pressed down on something that made her moan.

 

 

 

He pulled back and chuckled. “Like that, do you?” He pressed again and again.

 

 

 

“Yes.” And once again the word slipped out of its own volition with another moan.

 

 

 

He continued to press that something inside her that felt good, as he shifted positions behind her, standing up.

 

 

 

Spike slipped his fingers out of her, and she tensed, or would have if she could. The tears flowed down her cheeks. Even though she knew he’d taken time with her, and she felt somewhat ready, she still expected the pain. That huge ripping burning pain that always threatened to swallow her whole, she didn’t care how much training they would provide her, she refused to ever learn to enjoy it. She closed her eyes as she felt his cock at her opening.

 

 

 

“I can’t make you less afraid, but I can show you that this won’t hurt.”

 

 

 

He bent forward and kissed her back. Tara shuddered or would have if she could. This was really happening, she’d agreed to this, and it was really happening.

 

 

 

“You’re so wet and slick, precious. I’ll slide right in,” he said, and the head of his cock slipped inside her. She held her breath and braced herself.

 

 

 

“You have to breathe, precious,” Spike commanded, taking away her last illusion of control. Tara exhaled and was compelled to breathe normally as ordered.

 

 

 

He didn’t thrust all the way in, as she’d expected. He gently rocked his hips forward, allowing more and more of himself to enter her each time, until she felt wiry hair brush against her bottom and the firm wall of flesh indicating he was fully inside her.

 

 

 

“Can you feel me inside you?” he asked softly, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her back. He pulled back a fraction of an inch, and then pressed back in. “Does it hurt?”

 

 

 

“No,” she whispered, surprised and bewildered that this was the truth.

 

 

 

“You’ll be on this table so much, you’ll get wet looking at it.” He continued thrusting, using a little more force now.

 

 

 

“No,” she whispered, disbelieving.

 

 

 

“Yes. This table? It’s just a thing, precious. They were the ones that hurt you.” He gave her back a final kiss and stood up, placing his hands on her hips. He was able to pull back and thrust in farther, deeper inside her. She moaned.

 

 

 

“Feels good, doesn’t it,” he said smugly, continuing with the deep thrusts.

 

 

 

“Yes,” she couldn’t believe it was the truth.

 

 

 

“Want to try something else,” he said, and one hand left her hip. He stilled his thrusts, and she felt a slick finger at her other entrance. “Relax,” he ordered, and she relaxed. He slid his finger inside her anus and worked it in and out a few times. He left it inside her as he began fucking her again.

 

 

 

“They take you here too?” he asked, his stokes were getting uneven now as he got closer to finding his release.

 

 

 

“No, never,” she replied. Thankful of that one small blessing in her life.

 

 

 

“Looks like I get to pop your cherry,” he said, sounding pleased. “We’ll save that for another time.”

 

 

 

He slid his finger out of her ass, and grasped her hip once again. He began to pound into her and it was unlike anything she’d ever felt. His thick cock stretched her pleasurably as it filled her, and her clit ached and throbbed. She wished he’d touch her again there.

 

 

 

“See, precious, you like this already,” his smug voice was back but she didn’t care, all she wanted was some relief from the ache that he’d built. “You’ll learn to enjoy being hurt because it can be pleasurable. It’s not the kind of pain you’re used to.”

 

 

 

“I don’t understand,” she cried. How could pain not hurt? It didn’t make sense.

 

 

 

“You’ll see, precious. Now come for me,” he ordered, and she came, compelled by the spell, but so worked up that her orgasm threatened to overwhelm her. She barely heard him grunt his completion; she was so caught up in her own pleasure.

 

 

 

He thrust his softening cock inside her, and then leaned forward to lay his head down on her back, panting.

 

 

 

“Why?” she asked, panting herself.

 

 

 

“Because the only thing I want you to be afraid of for the rest of your life is me,” he replied.

 


 

The Tiger: Chapter 1 - The Test

 

Xander was kneeling. He felt like he spent his life kneeling. You would think demons would have something better for him to do besides kneel, but no. At least the floor was on the more comfortable side. Concrete and metal were the worst. Or pretty much anything with ridges.

 

 

 

After being offloaded from the transport, he and Tara had been taken by the SevenGen to a processing center and cleaning facility. The scale of the place was enormous. Their collars had been scanned and they were checked into the councils slave database. He couldn’t imagine how many slaves they must have hanging around if they required a database to track them all.

 

 

 

Since he couldn’t talk, he spent the entire time watching everyone around him. Once they got to the bathing facility, he was surprised to find that all of the attendants were human. Xander noted that they all seemed healthy and well cared for.

 

 

 

His owners, former owners, had to spend a week feeding he and Tara extra rations, and forcing them to drink foul tasting healing potions so they would be presentable for sale. By the looks of these slaves, they were well fed on a regular basis. All of them had a healthy glow about them. Xander also noticed that none of the attendants seemed to have any bite marks. Not a single one appeared to have been fed upon. It didn’t mesh with what he had heard being owned by vampires was like.

 

 

 

He picked up small bits of whispered conversation. He and Tara seemed to be the latest gossip. Their new owner, Spike (and wasn’t that a pleasant name), was new on the council and they were his first two acquisitions. That explained the vampire’s irregular behavior.

 

 

 

The SevenGen stood off in the corner complaining loudly about pretty much everything, from the steam mucking up her processing, to the speed in which the attendants were cleaning them.

 

 

 

He longed to ask the others questions about their life here, to try and get as much information as possible before they were evaluated by their new Master. Instead, he reveled in being cleaned and groomed. It was a luxury, and he appreciated it.

 

 

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that one of the girls was using a wand to clean Tara’s insides. He was happy to note that the water pouring out of her was clean, that tentacled freak hadn’t deposited anything.

 

 

 

They were handed new clothes to wear, tunics you could see straight through. Xander wondered why they bothered as he slipped his on. Oh joy, a see-through man dress, look at the new slave.

 

 

 

He and Tara were led to their own evaluation room, and told to kneel. He wasn’t even able to nod or look at Tara before he heard the door lock engage.

 

 

 

He was bored and nervous, a combination that even he admitted was dangerous. He spent the first 1/8th of a second examining the room from his position on the floor. Black floor, chair and him. Beyond that, there was zero to keep his interest until his Master came to evaluate him. He was sure there was some sort of camera nearby. They’d gone through a control room to get here, so he was guessing that the vampire was watching them from there.

 

 

 

As if on cue, the he heard the door being keyed open behind him. The vampire moved the chair in front of Xander and sat down. He’d changed into some kind of lounging robe and baggy pants. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and his feet were bare. Xander kept his gaze down looking at the vampire’s naked feet. Somehow they made him incredibly uncomfortable.

 

 

 

“Look at me,” his Master ordered.

 

 

 

Xander looked up. The vampire had an unreadable expression on his face.

 

 

 

“Name’s Spike,” Spike said. “You’re Alexander, yeah?”

 

 

 

It was on the tip of Xander’s tongue to correct the vampire, but he tightened his jaw and nodded.

 

 

 

“Go by something else, don’t you?” Spike asked. “You gonna tell me what it is or continue to piss me off?”

 

 

 

Xander had no idea why not correcting his Master, could possibly piss of the vampire. Great, his Master was insane. Xander answered him though, “Xander, Master.”

 

 

 

Another irritated look crossed the vampires face, but Xander had no clue as to what it meant.

 

 

 

“You mind telling me, Xander, why a group of greedy Phelon let their overseer do their dirty work selling two slaves, risking the chance of low profits?”

 

 

 

Xander was speechless for the first time in his life. He had no idea what to say. It was the last question he’d expected the vampire to ask. “I…It’ s not my place to question…” he began.

 

 

 

Spike shook his head, and Xander prepared himself for a blow. It never came. Spike leaned down so his face was directly in front of Xander’s. Their noses were nearly touching. “Listen to me, boy, you are dangerously close to trying my limited patience. I asked you a question and I expect the correct answer.”

 

 

 

Xander noticed his Master’s intense blue eyes for the first time. Right now they were glowing with cold fury. He’d tried following protocol, and obviously doing so was putting him in jeopardy, so he threw caution to the wind. If his Master really was insane, honesty likely wouldn’t get him more killed. “I killed a demon,” he replied simply.

 

 

 

Spike didn’t move, just tilted his head slightly. “What kind?”

 

 

 

“Vampire,” Xander said, keeping his voice steady.

 

 

 

Spike nodded thoughtfully and then leaned back in his chair. “Why?”

 

 

 

“He was my friend. It was an unsanctioned turning.” Xander swallowed thickly at the memory. “I destroyed the thing that took him over.”

 

 

 

Spike braced his arms on the sides of the chair, tenting his fingers, thinking. Finally he asked, “You know the penalty for killing a demon?”

 

 

 

Xander nodded. “Abattoir.”

 

 

 

Another long pause. “Would you do it again?”

 

 

 

“Yes.” The answer slipped out before Xander could stop it.

 

 

 

Spike nodded. “Thought so.”

 

 

 

Spike dropped his fingers, and relaxed back in the chair. “I’ll offer you a deal, Xander; you will agree to become my pleasure slave. In exchange, your sister will be given work where you’ll see her often. If I think that you even for a nanosecond consider trying to kill me, she’ll be sent to Abattoir in your stead. I will personally hand out her judgment and you will be forced to watch. Understood?”

 

 

 

The thought of Tara being butchered instead of him almost made him puke on the spot. He really didn’t have a choice. “O-ok,” he replied, unable to keep the waver out of his voice.

 

 

 

Spike grinned. “Oh, no pet, you can’t simply just agree. You have to convince me that you won’t shame me as your sponsor. Consider it a … test of your skills.”

 

 

 

Xander had known deep down it would come to this, had known from the second Spike walked through the door in his casual attire. What he hadn’t expected was Spike’s offer to sponsor him. The pleasure houses were infamous, demon brothels where the highest bidder could purchase a slave who would willingly do anything to please their clients. At least that’s what the rumors said. He wanted to shudder at the thought of being trained for that purpose, but kept himself still. Barely.

 

 

 

As far as the test went, Xander figured that the vamp just wanted a blowjob. After all, he was a guy, or was one once. So Xander shuffled forward on his knees so he was between the vamps legs, and leaned forward nuzzling at the vampire’s crotch.

 

 

 

He was unsurprised to find the vampires cock was already hard. At least this would likely go quickly then. Xander pulled back and brought his hands up, attempting to pull down Spikes pants. He was surprised when Spike pushed him away.

 

 

 

“Pretty eager to get to the main event,” Spike said sounding disappointed.

 

 

 

“You think this is the first time I’ve done this?” Xander asked incredulous. He sat back on his heels, unsure of what to do.

 

 

 

Spike nudged Xander’s soft sex with his bare foot. “Don’t look like you have.”

 

 

 

“I’m not really into guys,” Xander replied, much more harshly than he had intended. That wasn’t even close to the truth. It was safer to be with other men in the stables, rather than with the women, no risk of breeding. Xander had several partners and enjoyed his time with them; he just wasn’t into being forced.

 

 

 

“Want me to force you?” Spike asked, unconsciously echoing Xander’s thoughts.

 

 

 

“Isn’t that what you want?” Xander asked, confused and beginning to get angry.

 

 

 

“I own you pet, better get that through your pretty head,” Spike said harshly.

 

 

 

Xander took a deep breath and attempted to calm himself. Spike was right. He did need to get that tidbit of information through his head if he wanted to protect Tara.

 

 

 

“I’m sorry, Master,” Xander said, in the most calm and respectful voice he could muster, “How may I serve you?”

 

 

 

Spike nodded, looking more pleased than he had only a few moments ago. “Better, but I don’t want a robot. Stand up and take that stupid thing off,” Spike ordered.

 

 

 

Xander did as he was told, slipping the admittedly stupid transparent tunic over his head and tossing it aside. He internally mused at the irony of the vampire insisting he didn’t want a robot, and then immediately ordering him to stand and undress. He was getting used to his owner not making much sense.

 

 

 

Spike stood up and walked around Xander, looking him over from head to toe. Occasionally he would stroke or palm a bit of flesh that he was particularly interested in. Xander held still for the examination, keeping even his thoughts in check. Spike seemed to be able to smell hostility a mile off. Xander was now firmly keeping Tara’s safety in mind, so if his Master wanted to touch and stroke him as if he was a pricey piece of furniture, it was fine with Xander.

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

 

 

Spike watched the boy get himself under control. He was surprised that Xander managed to sound sincere, when Spike knew he would rather eat glass than submit willingly.

 

 

 

He was so pretty standing there, trying to follow orders. He’d be a fun one to break, all passion and fire. Spike supposed he could crush his will, as Angelus did with so many of his slaves, but that really didn’t interest him.

 

 

 

As it was, he was already frustrated with the boy’s insistence on calling him Master. He reluctantly would accept it now, because Xander needed that structure to obey him. Soon enough, Spike would hear the ‘Master’ in every single word Xander uttered and the boy could drop the pretense.

 

 

 

Spike walked around his new toy, stroking a responsive nipple, cupping one of his firm ass cheeks, running a finger along his shoulder blade. He avoided touching the boy’s still soft sex.

 

 

 

Spike finished his slow perusal, and stood directly in front of Xander. “Do you know what I want from you, Xander?” he murmured.

 

 

 

“You want proof that I won’t shame you, Master,” Xander replied sincerely, looking Spike in the eye.

 

 

 

Spike nodded, “Show me.”

 

 

 

Xander paused briefly, and Spike could see the wheels turning. He figured that the boy would kneel down and go after his cock again. Predictable, but at least Xander had the proper attitude now. Still, it’d be nice to be surprised.

 

 

 

Xander seemed to decide what he was going to do, and took a tentative step forward. He stood there for a moment gazing into Spikes eyes, before he brought his hand up and cupped the back of Spikes head.

 

 

 

The tension between the two of them was growing like a living thing as the sharp tang of Xander’s fear and nervousness faded, to be replaced by the growing sweet scent of arousal. Xander’s expressive brown eyes flicked down, stopping on Spikes lips briefly before moving back up to his eyes again.

 

 

 

Xander’s pretty pink tongue slowly peeked out from between his lips, sliding across the parched skin and then back into its warm cavern. Slowly, Xander tilted his head, and pulled Spike forward so their lips met gently.

 

 

 

Xander gently coaxed Spikes mouth open, before opening his own mouth slightly, tongue slipping in to touch Spikes before he pulled it back and closed his mouth. Over and over the simple gesture was repeated. Not the kiss of a pet or a slave, but the kiss of a lover.

 

 

 

Xander moaned, and slid his other hand around Spikes waist underneath his robe, pulling him closer. Their hips met, and they rocked together, even as their kiss became more heated.

 

 

 

Spike slid his arms around Xander caressing the skin of his lower back.

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

 

It was difficult for Xander to decide what he should do to impress his Master. His original attempt to suck the vampire off failed miserably, so he was reluctant to try that again. He thought about stepping back and playing with his own cock, giving Spike a show, but honestly, he wasn’t aroused at all and didn’t want to draw any more attention to that fact.

 

 

 

It came to him that he had only one thing he could offer as proof. Xander stepped forward and really looked at his Master. Spike. Xander realized that he was attractive. His eyes were the most interesting shade of blue that Xander had ever seen and very pretty when they weren’t flashing with anger. His skin was an unnatural white, accentuated by sharp cheekbones, and his lips were a pale pink. Xander felt his heart rate speed up with something besides fear as the thought struck him the creature that owned him was beautiful.

 

 

 

Xander leaned forward and kissed Spike gently. He rarely kissed his lovers, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but it was safer not to get quite so personal with another slave. Deception and betrayal were so common it wasn’t safe to open your heart; it was so much easier to simply share your body. Xander found himself enjoying the soft touching of their lips and tongues, and when the touches became not so soft, he found himself enjoying that as well.

 

 

 

Heat seemed to be blooming between them, and he felt himself begin to get hard. Xander slid his free hand around Spike to pull him closer, teasing the soft skin of his back. Xander’s hips moved forward seeming of their own volition and met Spikes. He felt a spark travel down his spine when their cocks came into contact, and rocked forward again chasing the sensation.

 

 

 

Xander lost himself in the moment, the feeling that not only was there want, passion and desire between them but something else. He was beginning to think that maybe being with Spike wasn’t the end of the world, and the place in his heart locked tight against everyone but Tara began to open an infinitesimal bit. When Xander finally pulled back, he was panting. Spike seemed to be equally affected his eyes dazed and hungry.

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

 

Feelings that Spike was certain he’d left behind when Dru turned him, now seemed to be just under the surface. Xander looked as dazed, confused and needy as Spike felt. This wouldn’t do at all, the boy was his pet. The only thing Xander was doing was trying to save his sister, anything else that Spike read in his gaze was hopeful romantic nonsense and had no place in his current existence. It was more probable that the boy was just a good actor, hoping to manipulate Spike. Spike would have sworn the boy didn’t have it in him, but he’d put a stop to it.

 

 

 

Spike’s gaze hardened. “Looks like you do have an interest in men after all,” Spike smirked, reaching down and stroking Xander’s now fully hard sex.

 

 

 

Xander nearly recoiled, tightening his jaw. Spike saw a brief flash of hurt, humiliation and anger in his eyes, before the boy got himself under control and nodded.

 

 

 

“Should punish you for not getting me off,” Spike said lightly, happy now that Xander seemed to have lost that sweet hopeful look and was back to his reluctant obedience.

 

 

 

To Spikes pleasure and surprise, Xander dropped gracefully to his knees, looking up with his big doe eyes. Looked like the boy truly did learn his lesson.

 

 

 

“As pretty as you look there, pet, a deal’s a deal,” Spike said, reaching down to pet the boy’s shaggy head. “I keep my word. ‘Sides, you’ll be on your knees again for me soon enough.”

 

 

 

“And Tara,” Xander asked quietly, biting his lower lip and making Spike seriously reconsider not having the boy open his pretty mouth and suck his cock.

 

 

 

“Safe,” Spike agreed, tempering his lust. “You did what I asked. I’m pleased.”

 

 

 

“Thank you, Master,” Xander said, and lowered his eyes.

 

 


 

The Tiger: Chapter 2 - Grooming

 

Chapter 2

 

 

 

Xander rose to follow Spike. He was seething inside. His whole life he’d grown up knowing he couldn’t trust demons. For a few minutes while they'd kissed, he’d actually thought this one might be different. He was an idiot. They were all the same, cold and unfeeling. He would not be making that mistake again.

 

 

 

Any desire he’d felt moments before had dissipated, replaced by a burning rage in his belly. He tried very hard to keep his emotions in check. His hard-on had already wilted to almost nothing, and even though he’d made a deal with Spike, he was no longer certain Spike would keep it if Xander became even the least bit disrespectful.

 

 

 

Spike stopped just before he reached the door, and turned to face Xander. Xander was forced to stop short so he didn’t run into his Master.

 

 

 

“You do have such a pretty cock, Xander.” Spike said, reaching down to stroke it. “Tell you what, you get hard and keep it that way while we’re on our little walk, and I’ll make sure your sister gets trained as a healer. She’d like that, yeah?”

 

 

 

“Yes, Master,” Xander replied unable to keep the resentment out of his voice. Tara would like that, and Spike knew it. Xander’s cock rose as the cool fingers stroked it, until it was fully hard once again. He hated that his body responded to Spike’s touch, that some small and obviously sick part of him enjoyed the vampire’s ministrations.

 

 

 

Spike released him with a smug smile and turned to walk out without another word.

 

 

 

As they walked, Xander didn’t have a fucking clue how he was going to keep himself this aroused. He’d do it though, somehow he had to.

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

 

Xander followed Spike through the corridors, hard cock bobbing wildly with every step, He burned with rage and humiliation as they walked past god knew how many vampires. Xander caught the amused glances and heard quite a few snickers. Spike hadn’t even afforded him the courtesy of placing a leash on him, forcing him to freely follow behind and putting his subservience on display even more.

 

 

 

When they reached the check-in for the training center, Spike was led away immediately to wherever sponsors went and Xander was passed off to a squat purple demon with red eyes who was introduced herself as Risa.

 

 

 

Risa’s fiery gaze flicked over him hungrily before she clipped a leash to his collar and tugged him along. She was erratic in her movements, stopping and starting suddenly, forcing Xander to stop short or run into her. Then she would start again moving quickly so the leash would pull taut and Xander would have to move quickly or lose his balance. She would chuff happily to herself each time he nearly lost his footing.

 

 

 

She brought him to a fairly sterile room, with few fixtures, and using a control panel lowered a ring from the ceiling and clipped Xander’s leash to it. She bound his hands behind him tightly and circled around him. A thickly clawed finger traced his erection.

 

 

 

“Could help wit’ dat,” she said, hungry gleam in her eye.

 

 

 

Xander was at a loss, as a slave he had no right to refuse a demon, but he had no idea what Spike would do if another demon touched him. Not to mention he was completely revolted by her.

 

 

 

“Gee, I’d like that, but Master Spike ordered me to stay hard,” he babbled, in what he hoped was an apologetic tone.

 

 

 

She withdrew her hand and frowned. “Suit yourself,” she said angrily. She stormed out of sight.

 

 

 

“Stay ‘dere,” she chuffed with mean-spirited laughter, and the ring in the ceiling retracted until he was barely able to balance on his toes. She was still laughing as she left the room.

 

 

 

It couldn’t have been too much later when two other demons came in and released him, his vision was starting to go black around the edges, but he hadn’t passed out. He knew they were talking, but their voices seemed tinny and far away.

 

 

 

They freed his wrists and pushed him immediately into a chair that he didn’t remember being there before. His collar was removed and he winced as they poked and prodded his tender neck before they rubbed some kind of cream on it and the pain went away.

 

 

 

They strapped him into the chair, then flipped a switch so it flattened it into a table. He clenched his jaw and stared at the ceiling as they started to work.

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

 

Xander didn’t know what was worse, the intense burning pain in his wrist, or the humiliation he felt that Spike had ordered him to be tattooed. And apparently pierced. The creepy demons working on him hadn’t mentioned where he was going to be pierced, he really hoped that it wasn’t anywhere remotely south of the border. Demons weren’t known for their gentleness.

 

 

 

Anger flared in his chest. He wanted to scream and fight being treated like he didn’t exist, but in their eyes he didn’t. He was the property of Spike, to be treated as Spike saw fit. Xander no longer had a say in anything.

 

 

 

So he lay there on their weird folding table, hands strapped down and held above his head. Mechanical device strapped to his right wrist, inking Spikes mark in. The two demons, identical except for their outfits, he’d named Déjà (the one in green) and Vu (the one in blue.) Vu removed almost all of his body hair. He was left with a trail snaking down his belly and a neatly trimmed thatch around his cock. Everything else was gone.

 

 

 

Xander turned his head when the device on his wrist beeped and fell silent. The burning pain stopped immediately. His wrist felt strangely hot, like a mild sunburn, but otherwise was fine. Vu, the demon in blue removed the box, and wiped away the blood coating his wrist. From his angle, he couldn’t see the mark well, only that it was black and about 2 inches long.

 

 

 

He turned his head back so he was facing the ceiling and closed his eyes so the demons wouldn’t see the extra moisture there. He was marked. He felt sick and empty inside. Even if he were to ever get free from this awful place, he’d always have this reminder, this stamp of ownership. And like everything on Abbadon, he knew things could be worse, but he couldn’t find comfort in that. Not today.

 

 

 

Apathy stole over Xander and he found himself unsurprised when his head was strapped in place. Two quick stings later and his ears were pierced. He held his breath and waited for additional stings, but none were forthcoming. As he exhaled, and began to think that this was the last thing he would need to endure, he felt the cold nozzle of a hypo-spray pressed against his left shoulder. A hiss and the brief sting if an injection.

 

 

 

Immediately he felt as if ants were crawling all over his body, inside and out. He recognized the sensation as a spell and said a thankful prayer that he was the one Spike had chosen. If the spell was powerful enough for him to sense it, Tara would have been driven nearly insane. She incredibly sensitive to magic; the Phelon used to have her inspect acquired merchandise for hidden spells.

 

 

 

Once his skin stopped feeling like it was going to crawl off his body, lethargy set in.

 

 

 

“Come this way,” Vu said.

 

 

 

He found that his folding table had become a chair again, and he was no longer restrained anywhere. He stood up and followed behind her, feeling off, but unable to determine exactly what was wrong with him.

 

 

 

She led him into some kind of cleaning facility.

 

 

 

“Kneel here,” she pointed to a large basin on the floor.

 

 

 

Xander walked over to the low basin, and kneeled down. He was disturbed to realize that his limbs seemed to be moving of their own volition, as if they were on strings or something.

 

 

 

Normally he would have luxuriated in being cleaned for a second time today, but his unhesitatingly responsive state was starting to worry him.

 

 

 

It had to be related to the spell. He wondered if this was going to be his entire existence now. Mind locked in a body that did whatever a demon commanded. He would have shuddered but his body was no longer his.

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

 

She spent forever messing with his hair, clipping and styling and doing god knew what else. Once she’d finished with his hair, she started to apply makeup to his eyes, and finished by dusting something all over his body. It was disturbing that Spike had wanted him to be all dolled up like a girl.

 

 

 

Xander was placed in front of a mirror, presumably so he could see what humiliating things they’d done to him. He was surprised that he didn’t look girly at all. His eyes had been outlined in black; drawing attention to them and making them look huge. And his hair was still shaggy, but it looked polished or something. Like every casual wave had been done on purpose. And they’d added different colors to it, so it was several dark shades of brown now, instead of his regular color.

 

 

 

His skin shimmered all over from the sparkly powder she’d dusted on him, and he had a silver ring in each ear. They hadn’t turned his wrist out, so he still couldn’t see the tattoo. Overall it wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. The only thing that looked strange was that he had no collar. He couldn’t remember a time in his life that he’d not had a collar on. His neck felt strangely cool and long. He resented the part of himself that felt uncomfortable with this change.

 

 

 

He didn’t have to be uncomfortable for long. Vu place a new and shiny collar around his neck. It was silver with a huge white stone set in the center flanked by decorative rings. Once a pet, always a pet, he thought bitterly. When he realized the collar clasped magically, the bitterness increased. He had no idea if it was even possible to remove now.

 

 

 

She looked at his flaccid cock and frowned, “You must be hard for your evaluation.”

 

 

 

Xander was humiliated to find that his cock started to rise even before she finished her statement. She seemed to be indifferent to his discomfort and once he was fully hard, she snapped some sort of ring tightly around his cock and balls.

 

 

 

“Your Sponsor also requested that you be fully prepared. Please remain motionless.” She held a slim wand in her hand. His humiliation was now joined by a sinking feeling in his stomach.

 

 

 

Xander remained still as the wand slid inside him, depositing some sort of lubricant. And while he’d half expected this, being penetrated so casually by an impersonal demon made him sick. At least he was being prepared. Being taken dry sucked--even with healing spells for after, Xander would rather not go through that.

 

 

 

 

The wand was at least small, and the demon knew what she was doing because it was quick and pain-free. He doubted the size corresponded to Spike's dick, likely the vampire considered himself generous for even providing this comfort to his slave. He'd be right, so Xander counted his tiny blessing.

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

 

“What’d you do to him?” Spike asked angrily.

 

 

 

Vu had led him to what he guessed was an evaluation room and ordered him to kneel. Surprise, surprise, he’d mindlessly followed that order. Bending like their puppet.

 

 

 

“Sir?” And it looked like Déjà was back, resplendent in green. She was poking at her compu-tablet. “He’s been placed under a compulsion and truth spell. Evaluation goes so much more smoothly that way.”

 

 

 

Spike was furious. Instead of the angry boy he expected to evaluate, this docile cow was led into the room. He smelled of humiliation and anger, so his boy was in there somewhere. They’d just buried him under their stupid spells.

 

 

 

“Get out,” he ordered.

 

 

 

“Sir, we must assist you in the evaluation,” Déjà insisted, indignant. Her purple eyes bristled, and her pointed ears seemed to stand up straighter.

 

 

 

Spike tore the compu-tablet out of her hand. “You’ve already fucked up the evaluation. He’s my pet, but because of your spell, he’s …"

 

 

 

Déjà cut him off, “Xander, do you enjoy performing oral sex upon men?”

 

 

 

“Yes,” the answer slipped out. Spike could tell Xander burned with embarrassment.

 

 

 

“What the...?” Spike asked, halting his rant. He watched the two of them.

 

 

 

“Have you taken another man inside yourself?” she asked clinically.

 

 

 

“Yes.” More humiliation. Spike tilted his head, looking at the boy. Maybe the spells weren’t such a bad thing after all.

 

 

 

“Did you enjoy it?”

 

 

 

“Yes.” Shame now added a lovely dimension to the boy’s scent.

 

 

 

“Ok, I get the point.” Spike interjected.

 

 

 

Déjà nodded, and reached for her tablet. “We have several more pages of questions we must work through before we begin the physical evaluation.”

 

 

 

Spike shook his head. “Think I can take it from here. Go on, scurry on home, curl up with your incubator or whatever.”

 

 

 

“Sir, I must insist,” Déjà asserted.

 

 

 

Spikes face shifted, and his fangs descended. “Get out.”

 

 

 

“Of course,” Déjà said stiffly. She walked briskly to the door and left without another word. The other demon, Vu, followed.

 

 

Spike shifted back to human form and tossed the compu-tablet aside. He walked over to Xander and combed his fingers through the boy's hair, relishing the silky texture.

 

 

 

“Just you and me, pet. Whatever shall we discuss?”

 

(To Be Continued)

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