Tag fic with Ladycat as Spike and Margarks as Xander

Tag fic with Ladycat as Spike and Margarks as Xander

Warnings for every kink you can think of

Spike needed a fuck. It was beyond wanting one, at this point. Wanting was for people who had the luxury of all their needs taken care of, all their pretty posies lined up nice and neat. Normally, Spike was a creature of want, he knew that, because a vampire didn't really have needs beyond the obvious: blood, mayhem, and terror. Easy to find, easy to have, and all is right with the world.

Except now Spike has a chip in his head. Which means he's discovering that his needs and his wants aren't exactly that similar. He needs blood, yes -- human's best, but he can survive on other types (if poorly; and unhappily). Mayhem and terror resolve themselves into icing, fun when he has it, but a sugary treat that doesn't provide any real satisfaction.

He's depressed for days when he figures that bit out.

Still, with all his needs supposedly being met, limited and base as they are, what Spike doesn't expect is needing a fuck.

Not just his cock in a warm body (or even a cold one) either. What he needs is a real fuck, with something gasping, pumping passion-laden blood at his feet, whimpering with need it doesn't understand and doesn't know how to deal with, while Spike makes pretty patterns on its skin, calls it a good girl, yes, that's right, you know you want to take care of Daddy's cock.

This, Spike had always thought was want. But after six months of random back-alley screws and, mostly, his own bloody left hand, it's resolving into genuine need.

And he's going to get it. Somehow. Because he's going crazy without it.

And it is an it, Spike thinks as he looks at the Scoobies sprawled lazily throughout the store. Any one of them will do, boy or girl or neuter, should that happen to appear. It doesn't matter. Just so long as they're Daddy's good girl as they moan, riding his cock in sweaty, fear-touched abandon.

Xander felt a shiver crawl up his spine. Rubbing at the back of his neck he glanced around and found Spike's eyes on him, a weird look on his face.

"What?" he said, just loud enough for Spike to hear, but not loud enough to interrupt the girls' conversation.

Something flashed briefly in Spike's eyes, sending a shudder through Xander, but the only answer he got was a smirk.

He scowled back, turning back to the girls, determined to ignore Spike. So what if it had been getting harder and harder to ignore the vampless wonder? So what if Xander had found himself thinking about Spike more than once when he wasn't around?

He told himself it was just because Anya had finally called it quits and left, told himself that every guy had harmless thoughts of experimenting. So, what?

He shifted, uncomfortably aware that his stupid thoughts had gotten to him again and that he was already half-hard. The fact that Spike was staring at him, that Xander imagined him staring at certain parts of him, wasn't helping either.

Jesus, what the fuck was wrong with him?

A -- smell. Faint. Musky.

Spike didn't do something as obvious as sit up straight and try to hunt down the aroma. That was for idiot children who didn't know what they were doing. It was faint, this tantalizing bit of something, and if Spike thought about it, it wasn't even that unusual. He was in a room full of adolescent children and Giles -- who was a horny bugger, although he hid it well -- and the scent of someone contemplating naughty thoughts happened routinely.

But this, though. This was... different.

Spike settled more deeply into the hard wooden chair that didn't give at all, nonchalantly looking around like he was just bored and searching for entertainment. Normal, normal. Nothing to see here, ignore the biteless vamp who crashes your cozy little vamp-killing tete-a-tetes and let him sniff out just who, exactly, smelled like the sexual equivalent of smooth rich chocolate with caramel on top.

It was getting stronger.

And bloody, buggering hell, it better not be Dawn.

Alarmed, Spike took a more obvious glance and sniff in her direction, and just as quickly relaxed. Good. Nothing but lilacs and the cherry lip gloss she used, sweet child-like sweat underneath. For all she kept proclaiming she was a grown woman, now, with grown woman needs, she smelled like a child to Spike.

Something he was really very grateful for. Any of the others he'd fantasized about one time or another. He was a vampire. A male vampire, for that matter, sex was wrapped up in blood. It was what he did.

But Dawn was his in a way he didn't understand and he didn't want her smelling of salt-musk and want. It... would be wrong.

Another wave of the scent had Spike's eyes narrowing, because nobody was really doing anything. Sitting around, chatting about classes and schools and -- hang on. Was he a vamp or not? He took a breath, letting his chest inflate, and then let it out.

Male. Young. Very turned on and not at all happy about it.

Bloody hell. Xander?

Xander didn't even realize he was squirming in his chair until Willow's brow furrowed and she gave him one of her looks.

Xander laughed, trying not to look like he was slouching too obviously.

"The Xanman's got ants in his pants. I got a pizza and a Bring It On marathon waiting for me at home, so if we're not going to patrol.... " He let the words trail off as he stood, careful to keep his front faced away from Spike. He couldn't help looking over his shoulder though, and blushing when he caught Spike's eye.

Damn.

"We could go out?" Willow offered, looking worriedly at him.

"Oh," Xander said, trying to think of a handy excuse. "That's okay, Wills. I'm kind of beat. New job, you know." He said, giving her a tired look. Xander thought his new job was part of the problem though, being around all those construction worker guys that normally wouldn't spend the time of day on him. Spike wasn't the only guy he'd been occasionally, sometimes, thinking about.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow," he called as he made a hasty exit, hoping that Spike hadn't noticed the way he'd blushed and stumbled over his excuses.

The second he cleared the door, he reached to adjust himself, walking swiftly down the street toward home.

For one moment, Spike considered staying where he was. He'd been around enough to know there was such a thing as tempting fate, and if that didn't have big, neon, your wish appearing here signs around it, then Spike truly was blind.

Then he got up. He was a vampire: they tempted fate every bloody day and laughed in the face of it.

He made sure to snarl at Buffy about her lack of planning and saving the world, and was snarled at elegantly in return. Good times, that. Not the good times he wanted, though, so the moment he was out of range of the Magic Box he hoofed it at a brisk clip.

Had a date, didn't he.

Xander was walking with his head down in that odd, incredibly recognizable gait that meant walking quickly was the goal, but a might painful to accomplish. He smelled delectable and Spike eased closer, more because Xander really was demon bait and Spike didn't want any poachers that evening.

Then again, he could play rescue...

That thought had merit. Xander was pretty when he played damsel in distress, especially since he'd learned not to fight it, riding out the humiliation with practiced regret. Smelled divine when that happened, like ambrosia on a plate, and Spike could make him grateful, make him want to spread his legs enough that Spike could tuck his hips right inside, leaning in while he squeaked, and babbled, and grew hard, and writhed in pretty contrast to his words. Spike could stroke his neck, gentle and careful, watch his eyes flutter and his body arch...

"What the -- Spike!"

From his sprawl on the ground, Spike stared up at the stars and swore a mental blue-streak. Only he could get so turned on and distracted by his imaginings that he bowled right into the object of his lust.

Xander shifted and squirmed, trying to get out from under Spike. That was, until he realized that he was basically rubbing himself against Spike's hip. A hot flush swept over his entire body, less embarrassment (though there was definitely some of that), and more arousal.

He swallowed, and turned his face away, not wanting to see the look on Spike's face. He could feel Spike's erection against his thigh, but Xander knew full well that it was probably just a physical reaction. No way would Spike want him like that.

"Fuck," he murmured under his breath, unsure what to do.

"That an offer, pet?" Spike said. It wasn't until Spike's mouth fastened over his pulse point that Xander realized that he'd basically offered his neck to the vampire.

"Spike?" Xander bit back the urge to stammer. "What the hell are you doing?" But the feel of Spike's mouth there, and the hardness against his thigh had Xander reacting before he'd even decided that he wanted to. His hips rocked up, and he moaned softly.

Spike mmmmed low in his throat, because the easy (too easy, this had to be too easy) way Xander melted into him was delicious. The ground was hard underneath them and Spike knew they should probably move, go somewhere more private so Spike could see exactly what that pretty cock looked like, right before he smacked it and called it a clit, a bit of stubby nothing meant purely to turn girls into mush.

But moving wasn't really possible, then. Not when Xander arched his neck like a good girl, exposing that fluttering vein for Spike's tongue.

"Should be obvious, innit?" Spike whispered, lifting off just enough that his lips would drag against Xander's skin as he spoke. "Look at you, all scuffed up and pretty. Busted your elbow on the way down, can you smell the blood?" Beneath him, Xander stiffened oh so appealingly, but he made no move to get away. "Smells good, pet, just like you do. Yeah, that's it, let me feel you," he added, letting his hand cup over Xander's cock so he had something to rub up against.

What was he doing? Xander tried not to thrust up, tried not to react, but he couldn't help it. It felt good. And, god, he was so hard. He rocked up into Spike's hand, the sounds of his own moans echoing in his ears. He could feel his heart hammering, his cock pulsing in Spike's hand.

This was exactly the way he'd imagined it. Well, okay, not exactly. He'd never imagined them on the sidewalk, out in the open, with Spike palming his cock like he'd been doing it every day or anything.

Hell, he'd never even really believed, even in his fantasies, that Spike would want...

Xander suddenly realized that Spike must be playing some kind of game. That it was pretty obvious that Spike had, ew, smelled Xander's arousal and come out to toy with him. He gathered indignation and anger and, yeah, a little disappointment, too, around him and pushed Spike away.

"Haha," Xander said, sounding a lot more bitter and hurt than he'd meant to. "Very funny." He tamped at his jeans, dusting himself off and trying to ignore the sting at his elbow and the way Spike's eyes flared and stared at the spot he knew was bleeding. "Leave me alone, Spike. I'm not in the mood for your weird games."

Spike couldn't stop the growl. "Game? You think I'd wind you up like this just to -- well, yeah, okay," he interrupted himself, stance shifting as he actually considered it. "Actually, that sounds just like me. Sorry, or something."

Xander made a face and started to turn away: perfect.

Darting up behind him, Spike trapped his arms as tightly as he dared. If Xander actually struggled, this wasn't going to work because of the buggering chip. But if Spike planned it right, he could do what he wanted: slide both hands over the boy's torso, one cupping his stomach while the other found his cock again, rubbing along its length with his fingers juuust right, his elbows locking Xander steady while he rocked his cock into Xander's arse.

Honestly, he didn't think it would work. Stupid chip. Xander was actually not bad at breaking free of things when he wanted to be. Question was whether or not he wanted...

Xander held still while Spike fondled him, which was all the permission Spike needed. He crowded closer, holding Xander's cock in a grip just-this-edge of tight, even through his denims, pressing his own hard cock against a temptingly pert arse. God, he felt good. "Then again," he purred, "there's all kinds of games we could be playing. Don't you want to play them with me?" He squeezed, wishing he could actually hurt Xander and probably using too much pressure; the chip was silent, though, "Don't lie, when you're body tells such lovely truths. Come on, be a good boy now, let me feel that arse move against me."

Xander wasn't sure how long they stood like that. He kept perfectly still, trying to figure out what Spike was playing at, if he really meant it or not.

But, fuck, it did feel good. And Spike was obviously aroused. But, did Xander really want this? Did he really want to let Spike know exactly how much he wanted it?

He pushed back, ever so slightly. He wasn't even sure it was hard enough for Spike to really feel, but the soft chuckle in his ear let him know that it was.

He groaned when Spike thrust against him again, rubbing against his ass. He couldn't stop now, so he let Spike's momentum thrust him forward, right into Spike's hand.

"Fuck," he said, moaned really, as he let his head fall back onto Spike's shoulder. "What are you... ? We can't," he half-heartedly protested, even though his hips didn't stop moving. "We're practically in the middle of the street." But, Xander still wasn't stopping Spike.

It had been hard enough to push him away before, but it was nearly impossible now. He'd been thinking about this, fantasizing for so long and now to have it with his reach...

Spike had to bite his lip to keep from purring out an oh, that's a good girl into Xander's neck. There were steps and then there were steps, after all. And none of it should happen in the middle of the bloody street.

"There, see, that's good," he said, instead, stroking Xander's thick, blood-heavy cock while his arse moved back hesitantly. "It feels good, doesn't it? You've been wanting this, haven't you? Wanting me to touch you, to show you all the things a vampire learns. That's it, pet, bare your throat to me, so good... " Xander wasn't conscious of it, he knew that, but he couldn't help but kiss the arch of that perfect neck, twisted so appealingly. "You want me to make you feel good, don't you, Xander? Say you want it. Say you want to rub against my cock, let me touch you however I want. Say I'm invited to you flat."

"God yes," Xander said, then snapped erect, though he didn't pull far enough away to escape Spike's hold.

"Oh, pet." Spike laughed again, the hand cupping Xander's crotch squeezing rhythmically. "Nothing wrong with admitting what you want."

Xander shook his head, trying to clear some of the lust that had crowded his brain. "This is... I don't understand what you're – Oh!" He gasped when Spike did something, reached down and pressed a finger against Xander some place that made lightning zing up his spine.

"Invite me up, pet."

"I, uh," Xander hedged. He really wanted to. Wanted to give in, to take whatever Spike was offering. "Promise... promise me... " He felt like he should make Spike promise *something*, but he wasn't sure what. That he wasn't teasing? That this wasn't just some sort of sick vampire game? That he wouldn't use this to torture and blackmail Xander for the rest of his life?

"Promise that I'll make you feel good, pet. That I'll make you see stars while you scream my name," Spike said and all of Xander's breath left him.

"Okay," he said, not even realizing that Spike was already pushing him, leading him toward the front of the building.

Oh, but Xander was delightful. How had Spike missed this for so long? The way he stammered and obeyed before his mind kicked back in to warn him maybe that wasn't such a good idea...

Spike had to take the keys away from Xander, swiftly opening the door while his right hand burrowed deep in Xander's back pocket, squeezing the boy's arse. Gonna call this what it is soon, pet, a sweet cunny made to take cock...

The urge to just shove Xander down was overwhelming. Spike wanted to hurt him, to make him cry out, bleed and stay hard -- harder -- from it, as he writhed and did exactly what Spike told him.

But Spike just pushed him arse-first through the door and towards his apartment. Once inside, he said, "Go sit down, pet, I've just got a bit of housekeeping to see to." The tone he used meant Daddy instead of I. Quickly, knowing time would only let Xander think, Spike closed every blind he could find, turning on a few lights so that unless Xander came to his senses and threw him out the window, Spike was safe.

Then he went back to see Xander sitting, blinking and confused, on the sofa. Such a good girl, he was.

Spike knelt on the floor in front of him, stroking up and down Xander's thighs warmly. "Very good, staying right here. Look at me, pet, yes, that's good. You want to be good, hm? Is that what this is about? Want to feel good, let Spike," Daddy, "touch you right here, make you hard and wet, squirming like a little child. Is that what you want?"

"I, uhm, I don't know." Xander was panting, trying not to curl into Spike's touch. God, he was hard, so hard, just from the way Spike was petting him and talking to him. Xander didn't think any of his fantasies had included this, but Spike somehow knew how to push all of his buttons. "I've never... uhm, you know."

And why was he admitting that? Except the look Spike gave him made everything inside Xander go warm and hot.

"That right, pet?" Spike purred the words, fingers teasing, barely brushing against Xander's aching cock. "Had you figured, already, I did," Spike said, then he did something that Xander never imagined he'd do.

He kissed Xander. Slow and kind of gentle.

Xander's fantasies had somehow never included kisses. Xander had been pretty sure that Spike wasn't a kissing kind of guy, that he was sort of the wham bam thank you, uhm, sir, kind of guy. If, Spike was a sir kind of guy at all.

Xander moaned, pressing forward, letting Spike lead the kiss. He opened himself up to Spike, letting him take what he wanted. Even then, Xander assumed that Spike would take, that he'd sort of plunder, but he still kept it sweet and oddly tender. Like, Xander was some sort of fragile someone that Spike had to... Xander wasn't sure. Take care of, maybe.

Xander liked that idea, and he kind of melted into the kiss after that.

Seduction, that was the ticket. Treat Xander like the pretty, precious little girl he was and he melted like raindrops in the summer sun, curving up towards Spike with a gasp that read of open submission.

"There, see," Spike murmured, kissing Xander again, this time with a tiny bite at the end. He timed it with his fingers finally brushing Xander's cock, his other hand flat and solid on Xander's belly: holding him, keeping him still.

The neck was most vulnerable when dealing with vampires, but it was the belly that spoke most primally. The more firmly Spike pressed, the more Xander's body turned loose and pliable.

"Such a good pet, that's it. Spread your legs, pretty, let me do what I want. You want that, don't you? It feels good, me doing whatever I want to you, touching your body like it's mine. Because it is, right now, pet. Right now you want to feel good, so good," he crooned, leaning up so he could kiss Xander again, this time adding two sharp, quick bites, "And I make you feel good, don't I, pet? That's it, let me touch you, make you feel good. Float along..."

There was purpose behind his meandering. Xander craved reassurance, Spike had known that since he'd met the boy, but there was a gypsy trick Dru had learned and perverted, the way she was very delightful at. Just a way of speaking, lilting soft and repetitive, that made people... willing.

Spike wanted Xander willing. Wanted him wanting, even when Spike scratched along his clit, red lines that made them both moan.

Oh, he was going to do that, he was.

Kissing Xander again, hand still steady and solid over his belly, Spike said, "Unbutton your pants, pet. You want to, you know, want to be bare before me so I might touch you. You want to tempt me, pretty pet, showing your pretty body to me just in case I want you. Show me, pretty toy, let me see what's mine."

Xander was nodding along, agreeing without words, even as his fingers fumbled with the fly of his jeans. It felt so good to free himself from the tight denim that he moaned, chasing Spike's mouth for more kisses.

"That's it, pet. Want you to feel good. So good," Spike said and Xander nodded.

"Yes," he said, wrapping a hand around the hard shaft and lifting it up for Spike's inspection. Somehow it didn't feel as strange, as wrong, to do it since Spike had asked him so... nicely. It seemed sort of right that he do whatever Spike wanted, since Spike was making him feel so good. And Spike promised to make him feel even better.

God, this was better than anything Xander could have imagined.

He felt hot and aroused, but sort of sleepy and coddled all at the same time.

"Spike," he said, not really knowing why, or what he wanted.

For all he'd been asking for it, watching Xander present his hard cock to Spike was nothing short of thrilling. It was long, longer than Spike had privately suspected, and thick enough that if Spike ever wanted a proper buggering, this would be the cock to provide it. The muscles on Xander, the way he'd filled out since he was a skinny, high school boy...

"Good boy," Spike breathed, approving and generous with his praise. Xander ached under the words, eyes fluttering -- not objecting to what he should, not now. Good. Spike ran his fingers over Xander's hands, not touching his cock but that which presented it towards him. "That's it, let me see. You like when I watch, don't you, pretty? You like being on display for me. Lift you hips, pet, push your trousers down. You want to be naked, hm? Tell me what you want, pet, how you're going to be so good for me."

This time he didn't bother with the kiss and went straight for a stinging bite, laving the reddened flesh. He shouldn't've been able to, he knew, distantly, but Xander moaned through the pain, lifting his cock even higher for Spike's eyes.

"Want," Xander said, babbled really. He wanted to say and do whatever Spike wanted. "Want to be good for you." Somehow saying the words aloud sent another jolt through Xander and he moaned as Spike helped him pull his jeans and boxers off past his ankles.

"Not sure," Xander said, starting to feel the worry creep in on him. He'd never done this before, never done anything like it. "T-tell me what to do?" His voice went up a little at the end, as if he were asking a question when really hadn't meant to.

He ached to have Spike touch his cock, ached to have him do the things that he said would make Xander crazy, make him come. Without having to be told, he reached for his shirt, lifting it up and off so that he was completely naked now. Because Spike had told him that it would feel good, that Xander wanted to be naked and open and ready for him.

And Xander did.

Except, now that he'd done it, he felt exposed and vulnerable. He fought not to cover himself up, because somehow he knew that Spike wouldn't want that, but he couldn't help hunching forward a little and dropping his gaze so that he wouldn't have to see the look on Spike's face.

He stared at his own cock instead, let himself stroke a little, soft touches that wouldn't make him come because Spike hadn't said he could yet.

Spike let the boy get a few more touches in, then slapped his hand. He didn't hit nearly as hard as he wanted to, but more than enough to sting.

Still nothing from the chip. Huh.

Xander jerked, raised wide, sex-glazed eyes up to Spike. "I -- "

"Hush, pet," Spike crooned, kissing him softly, gently in comparison to the slap. "Not supposed to touch until I tell you. This pretty body of yours," Spike ran his hands over naked shoulders and thighs, running over Xander's cock before finding his belly and pressing again, "I make it feel good, don't I? Because it belongs to me. It does what I tell it to, not you, pet. No, you're a good boy, a sweet, pretty boy who does what he's told, feels good doing what he's told, hmm? That's it, pet, melt into me, now, let me touch..."

Xander arched up, breathing shallow and fast. His cheeks were flushed and he really did look beautiful. Spike kissed him again, pushing up to his feet so he could sit on the sofa. "Come sit on my lap, pretty boy."

"Want," Xander murmured, closing his eyes and doing exactly as Spike said. Somehow they ended up on the couch with Xander in Spike's lap. Spike was still fully dressed, and his hands were soft as they explored Xander's body. Stroking down his belly and over his cock. Tweaking his nipples. Every touch made Xander want more. "T-touch me, Spike, please," he said, arching and squirming.

"Spike knows how to take care of his boy," Spike said, petting Xander's cock. It wasn't nearly hard enough to provide the kind of friction Xander wanted, but it made Xander's arousal skyrocket.

"Yes, please," Xander said again, pleading. "I'll be good. Promise. Sweet and... and pretty, whatever you want. Please." He rocked his hips, begging for more pressure on his cock even as the rub of Spike's erection against his ass sent more glittery zings through his body.

Xander was just a smidge too big for this, really, but Spike wasn't going to be the one to say so. The boy was just lost with it, pupils blown senseless with the desire for sex, his body a trembling mass of nerves he could pluck like a guitar, his alone to test out.

Gorgeous.

"Been wanting this forever, pretty toy," Spike said as he angled the boy's arse more firmly over his hard cock. Rocking up made Xander groan like he was dying: pretty, pretty music. "A pretty boy to break and fuck, just like you. I'll be doing that, don't you worry, little slut. Break you open till you bleed red all over my fingers, watch you come the more you hurt." Experimentally, dangerously, Spike levered a slap to the boy's nipple: no chip, just Xander whimpering and arching his chest up. "Oh, so you like having your tits slapped? Wsih they were bigger, slide my cock between them like a pretty girl's, wouldn't I? Hold you down and rut on your body while you whimper and cry out and come when I do without a touch to this," Spike's fingers, his nails, grazed up and down Xander's cock, spreading trails of precome for slick. "Just because I say. Just because I tell you what to do, that's it, pretty, pretty, toy. Let Spike touch you, hm? Make you hurt, make you feel so good... rock down, pet, I want you to grind that arse into my jeans. I want it red, pet, red and sore while you move over my," Daddy's, Daddy's and how was he to bring that part up? "cock."

Oh, Jesus.

Spike was doing things that Xander couldn't believe were making him so hard. It hurt, the things Spike was doing. Slapping him, scratching him with blunt nails, and for just a brief, fleeting moment, Xander wondered why Spike's chip wasn't going off. But then his cock would pulse and thrum and he'd forget all about everything except the way Spike was making him feel.

"Please," Xander said again, because he had no idea what else he was supposed to say. "Want to come, god. Anything. Just, please."

Spike laughed, his fingers curling around Xander's balls and pulling hard enough that Xander's hips arched and he cried out. He could feel the tip leaking, wetting his thighs with pre-come as he bounced and rubbed against Spike's cock.

"Hurts," he said, when he rubbed hard enough to feel the zipper of Spike's jeans dig into his flesh.

Spike panted into the boy's neck, fingers spasming over his hips. Christ, he knew it had to hurt by now, he could feel Xander wincing with each rock; he wasn't stopping, though. Not even when there was a flinch and Spike caught a brief whiff of blood.

Just a taste.

Wild, Spike shoved Xander off his lap and flat onto the sofa, kissing him wildly, fucking his mouth with his tongue before rearing back and lifting Xander's legs like a child's for a diaper change, barking, "Hold them," so he could see his arse. His beautifully red, sore, scratched up arse. Not actually bleeding, but the skin had parted allowing it to flow red and tempting to the surface. Spike touched the scratch reverently, licking his fingers and smoothing over it: any rough pressure and he would bleed, Spike knew.

He'd bleed. For Spike. Hurting himself for Spike.

Moaning, Spike had to kiss him again, sucking on his tongue and force his head back at an awkward angle just so Spike was comfortable. That, too, just made Xander whimper and kiss back more sweetly -- boy didn't know how to do dirty, not even with Spike trying to teach him -- rocking their cocks together despite Spike's denims in the way.

"Good boy," he praised, breathless and eager, "such a good boy. Did you know, pet? Did you know you liked it when you hurt yourself? Bet she spanked you, didn't she, hm? Spanked this pretty arse puffy and red while you mewled and begged for it. Did she bugger you, pet? Did your little demon take your arse like a pussy, fucking you raw and desperate while she brought herself off watching you give everything over to her?" More kisses, Spike busily running his hands over the scratches, enjoying their fragile, painful warmth. "Tell me what you've done, pet. Tell me all the sordid, dirty things people do to you to make you feel good."

"I don't... I...." Vaguely Xander remembered one or two nights with Anya. Some spanking, a few toys. But Xander had never let Anya fuck him. Not the way he wanted Spike, too. He wasn't even sure why he hadn't. He'd been curious, but it just hadn't seemed right. "Spanked. Once." Xander wasn't able to speak in full sentences anymore.

His ass stung, and Spike was biting at his lips, leaving marks and zinging pain. Xander arched up toward the kisses, wanting more. His cock hurt. He felt raw and exposed and a little insane with need.

"I let her," Xander said because he could tell that Spike wanted to hear more. "I let her finger me, there, once," he said, rocking up with a whimper as his cock scraped against the rough fabric of Spike's clothes. "Never fucked. Not really."

"Not really, pet?" Spike asked, fingers disappearing between them to tease Xander's hole.

"Oh, god." Xander moaned, trying to open himself up, to spread his thighs. "Dildo. Bought a dildo. Used it on myself, a little. She watched." Xander remembers the burn, the uncomfortableness of trying to press the rubber head inside him. But he'd done it. He'd slid it in and out just a few times before he'd come all over himself.

Well, wasn't that a good memory, the way Xander's eyes went all spinny. Lovely.

Glad that, for once, he'd worn boxers, Spike quickly undid his fly and shoved his jeans down enough that he was able to press a cloth-covered erection against the boy's arse. There was method here, if one Spike was struggling to remember and adhere to. Pulling his cock out now would either have Xander go truly crazy -- too fast, for what Spike wanted -- or it might spark the boy into thinking again, which was nothing like what Spike wanted.

So he kept himself covered, if softer, and pushed up hard between the boy's cheeks. "Poor pet, not getting what he needs. Is that why she left? She wanted a man, didn't she, pet, a hard, thick cock to get her off. Not a boy with a clit of his own, hm, an eager, hungry pussy just waiting to be taken." Spike slurped along Xander's neck, leaving kisses that would turn to hickies later. "Just like a girl, you are," he crooned, rubbing the head of his cock against Xander's hole with only his boxers between them. "That's it, squeeze tight like you want me there, such a good girl you are."

"Girl," Xander said. He'd meant to make it a question but it had come out sounding more like he was just repeating, reinforcing what Spike had said. "Good. I'll be good. Please, Spike. Just let me come. Touch me. Oh, god. Need it. Need to come."

He was babbling, he knew it, but he couldn't help himself. He reached out, grasping Spike's hips and urging him forward. The soft rub of cotton against his ass wasn't enough. Xander didn't know what he needed, what would send him over the edge, but he knew that Spike did. "Please," he said again, feeling pathetic and needy and desperate.

"Want it," he said, swallowing against the urge to question. "Want your c-cock." He couldn't get the words out without stumbling a little. "I... I want it in... in my... " he couldn't say it, even though he knew Spike wanted him to.

But, god, he wanted it.

He cupped Spike's ass and pulled him closer, wrapping his legs around Spike's waist and whining with need.

"Such a pretty girl," Spike told him, pushing up on his palms so Xander could monkey his way around however he liked. "Spread and wanton for it -- I can smell you, pet, smell your hot, wet pussy. Want it filled, don't you, girl? Want a cock deep inside of you."

At this point, Spike could've said that dancing bears wanted to fuck Xander and the boy would only whine and plead for more. He was gone too far to really hear Spike, which made for an interesting question on what, exactly, he'd remember. Hm.

Then Xander made a whine that wasn't just edged with pain, and Spike came to a decision. Staying within Xander's embrace -- and wasn't he a clever slut, opening himself up that way -- Spike pushed two fingers inside Xander's mouth. "Suck me nice and wet, cocksucker. Show me what you want to do to mine, later. That's it, girl, use your tongue, prove to me you deserve my cock."

While Xander eagerly moaned and tried to show off skill he clearly didn't posses, Spike balanced on his knees -- being a vampire had perks -- wrapping a hand around Xander's furiously hard cock. "On the count of there, baby," he purred, pushing his fingers deep into Xander's throat even as he stroked the boy's cock, "one, two, come."

Even with Spike's weight half atop him, Xander's whole body arched off the couch. He came so hard that it practically pushed over into more pain than pleasure, as he groaned around Spike's fingers. He kept thursting against Spike's hand, hips pushing for more as his cock pulsed again and again and again.

Xander's jaw clenched with the last of the aftershocks, biting down hard on Spike's fingers and tasting blood. Coppery and bitter, he swallowed without thinking, licking at the wounds he'd inflicted.

His eyes went to Spike's. A shiver went through him at the look he got. He didn't know whether it was the possessiveness or the flare of heated arousal, but his cock pulsed again, even though he'd already gone dry.

When Spike drew his fingers free, Xander licked his lips and said, "Thank you." He ducked his head, suddenly feeling shy at the way he'd thanked Spike for letting him come.

Spike shook his hand slowly. It didn't hurt, really; teeth during sex never hurt to him. He hadn't expected Xander to brim over with it, though, body shuddering one last time as he'd licked Spike's bitten fingers clean...

Shaking his head, Spike settled back on his heels and used his unbitten hand to stroke Xander's belly in long, soothing motions that just happened to rub all that delightful come into his skin. "Good girl," he murmured, soft, like to a dog that wasn't sure if it'd just done right, after all. "That's good, just breathe, baby. Being such a good girl for me, pet. Normally it takes training to do what you just did, coming on command like that. Such a good slut you are..."

He kept up the steady stream of words until Xander had relaxed and, unfortunately, was starting to look around with a little more alertness in his gaze. Spike tensed, without showing it: if Xander wanted to do something like, oh, stake him now would be the time. And despite how willingly he'd taken all those slaps and bites, Spike had no doubt the chip would zap him stupid if he tried to defend himself.

Xander felt practically boneless.

Something was wrong though, he thought distantly. Spike had tensed, and wasn't looking at him the same way he had been just a minute ago. Xander's brow furrowed as he tried to think.

"Oh," he said, rocking against Spike lightly. "You didn't come." And then he realized what a stupid thing that had been to say. Of course he hadn't come. Jesus, Spike hadn't even gotten totally naked yet. "Are... am I, uhm," Xander said, worrying his bottom lip. "T-tell me what to do," he said softly, wanting to make Spike feel as good as he'd made Xander feel.

Somewhere in the back of his mind a little voice was telling him that this whole scenario was crazy. That this wasn't the kind of kink that Xander went in for. But, the sated ache in his groin and the fluttery feeling in his belly told Xander differently.

He was -- well. It showed, Spike thought, just how much he'd changed since the buggering chip that he wasn't taking complete advantage, clamping a hand on Xander's mouth and watching him mock-struggle while Spike rutted against that fire-warm skin of his. It would be good, oh yeah, and Xander would struggle that perfect amount, believing it but wanting it...

But Spike wasn't doing that. Instead, he was sitting there like an utter berk, just staring at Xander.

Who was worried that Spike hadn't come yet.

"Are you... awake in there?" he asked.

Xander blinked doe-y eyes at him. "Yes?"

"Don't sound too sure, do you." He wasn't stupid enough to let this go entirely, so Spike continued petting the boy's stomach, letting the come go tacky and sticky as it kept them together.

Xander felt that familiar gut churning feeling. The "I'm an idiot" kind of feeling that happened way too often. Spike was looking at him like... Xander didn't know. But it wasn't that wanting, dirty... dominating look anymore.

Spike had made Xander come. Spike hadn't come. And didn't seem to want to.

"Shit," Xander said, pushing at Spike's shoulders, his stomach, just trying to get away. He'd known this was some sort of fucking sick joke. Spike had called him a girl, a pussy, a slut. And Xander had eaten it up. Gotten hard and crazy and he'd even fucking come because of it.

And now Spike was looking at him like he couldn't believe that Xander had let him do it.

"Fuck," he said, feeling his eyes start to sting as the come dried on his belly.

"Where do you think you're going?" The words came out low, a little amused, and a lot commanding.

Xander froze, "I -- "

"Did I tell you to get up? No, I didn't. All I did was ask if you were still in there, which clearly you are since you're starting to tear up like a little girl. I can smell the tears, pet," he added, just to be cruel. Xander was still facing away from him so Spike let his hands wander over the new bits of Xander he hadn't touched before -- noting when Xander flinched, but never once pulled away. Nice scar on his shoulder blade and Spike let his nails score down that, just to see the boy tremble with discomfort. "Don't make assumptions, pretty toy. You've no idea what I'm thinking."

"So what are you thinking?" came the petulant -- and frightened, mmm -- response.

"Right now? Right now, I'm thinking how much I'm gonna enjoy breaking your pussy to a nice, fat cock, how I'm gonna enjoy you whimpering and moaning while you ride me, and you are gonna ride me, slut. And what I'm really thinking about," because this was the one thing Xander hadn't any experience with, not even the minor games he'd played with Anya, "is watching you suck my cock. I bet you'll choke, and cry, and snivel. And I'm gonna come so hard when you do."

Xander blinked, trying to clear away his own stupid emotions.

"Just," Xander said, clearing his throat and turning back to look at Spike. He hated that Spike's words made that churning feeling in his belly turn back into something achy and hot. "Tell me what you're doing, Spike. What is this? Why... why me?" And he hadn't meant for his voice to go high and tight at the end either.

Spike's hands were still wandering his body, making Xander wince every time they passed over his now, extremely sensitive cock.

"Why not you?" Spike taunted. He had Xander back more firmly on the sofa, the boy letting his body be positioned however Spike wanted. So pretty, the way he let his leg get pushed up, exposing his raw cock and whatever else Spike wanted. Like he hadn't just been about to stomp off, like he wasn't sore and aching whenever Spike touched cock, or balls, or his pretty pink nipples.

Which Spike did.

"You're pretty, for one thing. Oh, don't make that face, pet, you know it's true: a pretty girl. You ever wonder why demons always come after you? Yeah, I bet you have. You've no idea how good you smell: like chocolate on a winter day, pet, like roast after weeks of famine. You smell fuckable, and I want a fuck. A proper one, with a girl that begs at my hand for more, one who wants me to slap her and break her and make her pussy go sopping from want, coming hard enough she passes out from the pleasure of it." Spike smiled, enjoying Xander's sharp intake of breath at that. His eyes were so damned dark, wide with fear of rejection and the desperate need for reassurance. For affection, no matter how much it hurt. Bloody perfect, he was. "If I wanted a back alley hooker, I'd've found one. Again. You understanding me, now?"

"I... you really want me?" Xander said. He couldn't help gasping when Spike twisted one of his nipples, gasping and pressing himself up into Spike's hand for more. "You didn't even... I mean, you still have your shorts on."

Spike laughed. "Hungry for my cock, are you, girl?"

Xander blushed.

"You keep," he said, swallowing against a throat that had suddenly gone dry. "You keep saying stuff, you know, about how you're going to make me... how you're going to f-fuck me. But you haven't done anything. Haven't even gotten naked. Like it's all just talk, a... a big game or something." Xander mumbled the last, knowing he was beating a dead horse, but wanting to hear Spike tell him that it wasn't. That he really, really wanted Xander the way that Xander really wanted Spike. The way he could feel his cock twitching again, even if it was way too soon to get hard after the kind of orgasm he'd just had.

"Is that what's irking you?" He hadn't meant to say that out loud, but really. He'd known Xander was affection starved, but this was... this was deeper. Spike frowned, idly turning the boy onto his side so he could run over those deep scratches on his arse, palming the muscle for a nice squeeze. "Can't be a proper fuck if I don't come, is it?"

It would've been nice to believe that Xander just wanted him to come, because it would make the boy feel good too. On some level, it was even right -- what the boy thought, certainly. But oh, the worthlessness that lived underneath that stumbling speech, the ideal that his pleasure was secondary so long as whoever was touching him got off, got use out of him...

Well. It was just perfectly delightful, wasn't it.

Shucking off his jeans and boots, Spike wormed himself behind Xander so he could cuddle the boy while pressing his cock into his naked arse. "Lesson one for tonight, little cock-slut," he said, "is that I'm the one who decides when orgasms happen. Not you. If I didn't want you, I'd be out that bloody door, looking for a likelier pick. But I'm here, aren't I? Being generous and making you feel good," he scratched lightly over the boy's tacky belly, letting some of it flake off, "wanting you to enjoy it. You've no notion what a proper fuck is, and here you're trying to dictate to me? Telling me what to do? Oh, no, girl, not you. Not a sweet, silly little toy like you." Spike's voice deepened again, smoothing out as he stroked Xander calm and compliant, whispering words into the back of his head. "You're here for fucking, pet, you're here for doing what you're told, being so good for me, a baby girl who doesn't know anything at all. That's you, pet, innocent and little. Need taking care of. Need a big, strong man to teach you what fucking's really about, how to make it last so long you ache from it, whining and crying because you know when I finally come, when I finally let you taste it, feel what you're wanting so much, it'll be good. Better than anything you've known.

"But you don't tell me what to do, little slut, not a pretty girl like you. Are you a pretty girl, pet?"

"Y-yes?" Xander said, and it came out as a question. "Want to be," he said, the muscles in his abdomen tightening as he thought of all the things Spike said he was going to do to him. "Want to be whatever you want," Xander admitted, worrying his bottom lip. He rocked back, rubbing himself against Spike's erection. "Please, Spike."

Xander felt teased right to the very edge. Like he couldn't take anymore. He wanted it, wanted to feel all those things that Spike was talking about, all those things that he'd fantasized about without really every believing he'd get to.

If Spike really did want him, Xander wanted to know what he had to do, what Spike wanted him to do to get all those things.

"What I want is a pretty, fuckable girl who knows her place. One who doesn't ask unless she's told to beg for it, one who knows that she's just a little girl, a baby too silly and young to go out in the world, to know any kind of thing. One who wants a daddy to take care of her, teach her how to use her body to make her feel good. What her titties are for," Spike said, plucking Xander's nipples, "her clit," this time Spike roughly palmed his cock, "and her sweet, hungry pussy," Spike rocked his cock up, letting the head press right on Xander's hole. "Is that what you want, girl? Want Daddy to take care of you, fuck you proper?"

"Oh, god," Xander said, whining low. "Yes, please, d-daddy." He stumbled over it the first time, but moaned when Spike pressed up against him again, teasing Xander with the thought of having his cock, "Daddy." He'd be a girl, sweet and hungry and pliable, if that's what Spike wanted. "I want you to, uhm, to play with my titties and f-fill my pussy. Please, daddy. God," Xander groaned.

Spike was still teasing. It felt good and bad at the same time. Anticipation was like a living thing inside him, twisting and squirming and making his cock... his clit, start to swell again. But there was pain, too. Stinging zings each time Spike rubbed over a sore spot.

"Need you to take care of me," Xander continued, mewling now. His voice had changed, going just a little higher with want, but also with the need to turn himself into exactly what Spike wanted.

God, it was all just so easy.

"Good girl," Spike crooned, gentling the boy as he worked his boxers down, sliding his dick between Xander's legs and pushing them closed. He didn't touch the boy's dick, knowing it'd hurt him no matter how much he wanted it, and right then, Spike didn't want to hurt him. That'd come later.

Right now, this was all reward.

Hunching forward got him close enough to find Xander's mouth, kissing him soft and sweet as he slid raw between Xander's legs, the head of his cock bumping along perineum and balls, a tease and a promise all at once. "Good girl," he praised between kisses, hands leaving nothing but pleasure over the boy's body, "that's it, baby, squeeze your legs for Daddy, let him use you. That's what you're for, baby, a sweet toy for Daddy to play with, a girl to hurt and fuck and use, teaching her how to love it. Gonna come on you, girl, all over your pretty face, maybe, mark you for everyone to see, let them know that you're just a sweet, innocent little fuck-toy, a cock-hungry bitch that needs Daddy to hold her hand, to keep her pussy wet and full, her body aching and sated. That's it, girl, let me fuck you... "

Xander was starting to sweat under the words, which was good, since it worked as the bit of lubricant Spike needed. Xander's skin was hot and giving, surprisingly sparse in the way of hair, given how his stubble was scraping Spike's lips with each kiss and Spike wondered if it was Anya-related. Still close enough, timing wise, and oh, the way the boy moved, timing a little awkward but so eager, thrusting himself back for Spike to take and fuck...

"Open your legs, girl, and turn over onto your back." His voice trembled with eagerness and Spike didn't bother hiding it -- it'd reassure his new pet. "Lift, baby, let me in -- you want your pressie, right, girl? Want Daddy to come all over your face. Tell me, girl." Spike jacked himself hard, levering himself in between Xander's lifted thighs so he could aim up. "Tell me you want Daddy on your face."

"Yes," Xander said breathless, shifting to angle his face even closer to Spike's cock. "Want it. Want you on me, Daddy." Xander was panting, eager and aching for it. Without thinking he reached down to touch himself and hissed at the pain it caused. He opened his mouth, wanting to taste, then closed it again unsure. "Can I... can I taste, Daddy?" he asked, remembering that Spike had told him that he wasn't to do anything Spike didn't want. That he was Spike's toy and nothing more. And why that thought made him rock up, made him ache to have something to rub against, Xander wasn't even sure.

Spike caught the movement to jerk off, but since he stopped -- out of pain or not, he still stopped -- he wouldn't call him on it. Yet.

"You may," he granted, proper and formal, just before letting out a groan as he came in ropey spurts all over Xander's face. Five, six -- it'd been a while, and vampires needed sex frequently -- gobs dripping translucent white over his eyebrows, his nose, dripping down his cheeks to that pink, open mouth that licked and swallowed, and opened once again, tongue snaking out to find more.

Jesus, that was hot.

Spike watched for a moment, stunned with how perfect his new pet was, before swiping a bit that hovered near Xander's eye and popping it into his mouth. "Cocksucker," he crooned, thrusting the finger in and out until Xander's eyes went wide, then half-lidded. "Such a good girl, taking her Daddy's come like that, a proper bitch to please me. Does it taste good?" Some never learned to enjoy the taste of come. Could tolerate it, but like it?

Cocksucker. The name sent a jolt of lightning straight to Xander's cock. He shook his head. Clit. Daddy wanted him to call it a clit. Even in his head.

He sucked at Spike's finger, swallowing the taste. It wasn't exactly good, per se, but Xander was hungry for more because it was Spike's. Because it was Daddy's.

"Yes," he said, licking at the pad of Spike's finger. He did like it. "More Daddy?" he asked, a little pleading. "Want you inside me." And he did, he really, really did. The thought made him feel hot and achy and so good. He looked up, suddenly feeling vulnerable again. "Good, Daddy? Am I being a good girl?"

"A very good girl, you are. A pretty bitch to play with, mm." Spike thought about fucking Xander right then, but decided against it. For one, he wanted Xander able to get hard when he was fucked, setting up the proper associations -- Daddy's cock in his pussy was supposed to feel good physically, as well as emotionally, or this would never hold. For another, Spike wanted to play more.

He swiped most of the biggest bits of his come into Xander's mouth, letting the boy hum with pleasure as he sucked Spike's fingers clean. The rest he massaged into Xander's face, saying, "Close your eyes, there's a good girl, let Daddy do this for you." A nice implication, since it meant next time Xander would be finishing the facial himself, and it would feel good at the same time. Spike knew how to give massages, knew how to make even the most unwilling victim physically enjoy it.

When Xander was, well, not clean but no longer dripping, Spike pulled his trousers back up, leaving his boxers on the floor, and stripped off his shirt. "No," he cautioned when Xander reached out. "Good girls stay naked. If you want me to fuck you, then you've got to look pretty enough for my cock, don't you?"

Xander's expression was priceless, but he nodded and let the clothes fall back into a heap.

Standing, Spike looked over the apartment. It was a nice place, high-end enough to please a fussy Anya and a vampire who liked his comfort, but not quite chic enough to be uncomfortable. Lovely. "Clean up the clothes, there's a good girl. Daddy wants to explore a bit."

And eat. Both of them, really, and if Spike remembered the last time he'd needed blood... ah ha! Opening the fridge, Spike was grateful the boy was in the other room. There, tucked in the back of the freezer, were a few bags of blood. Xander had kept them, like a girl who'd known her master wasn't far and wanted him nearer any way possible.

Dinner, then. Blood for him, bit of soup -- tomato, of course -- for the boy.

Xander picked up the clothes and carried them into his room to the laundry hamper. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do after that because Spike hadn't said, so he went back into the living room to wait. Sitting on the couch, Xander traced a finger over his cheek. Spike had massaged Xander's face, had rubbed in his come until it sank into Xander's skin.

He tried to mimic what Spike had done, closing his eyes and reliving the feel of Spike coming all over his face. He inhaled deeply, trying to smell Spike on him. Spike made it sound like that wouldn't be the last time he did it. That he liked the way Xander had looked with come dripping from his cheeks.

Xander shifted, a little uncomfortable still His ass was sore from the way Spike had made him rub against his jeans. Shifting again, he groaned when a quick shot of pain stung him.

He didn't realize that he still had his fingers pressed against his cheek, trying to feel the difference Spike's come on his skin made, until he heard Spike's laughter. His eyes shot open to find Spike watching him with a kind of indulgent smirk on his face.

"You know what I don't understand?" he asked, nice and conversational. "How I'm the first to figure out what a morsel you are. How come Anya didn't have you bound, pegged, and begging for it?"

He tugged the boy upright, not really waiting for an answer -- he'd get it, later -- pulling him into the kitchen and sitting him down at the two-person table in the corner. "Dinner," he said. "Eat."

"Yes, Daddy," Xander said without thinking, picking up his spoon and dipping it into the soup. He was a little surprised that Spike had made him something to eat, too, though he realized he shouldn't have been. Spike said he'd take care of Xander, and that's what he was doing. The fact that he'd made Xander tomato soup made the corners of his mouth kick up a little. He kept cans of it on hand mostly because it was the one thing his mom had been able to make him as a kid, and he liked to eat it when he wanted to remember the one or two good times he'd had with his parents. "Thank you, Daddy," Xander said, reaching for the bread that Spike had put out, too. He liked to dip it into the soup, just like he had when he was a kid.

Spike nodded, absently frowning at Xander's meal while he sipped his blood. "You need some protein," he decided. "Something with iron. Should go out and buy you some steaks, maybe, tomorrow."

Xander nodded, looking confused and... content, oddly. Like there was nothing odd or bizarre about any of this, like he sat naked in his kitchen eating soup for supper all the ruddy time.

It was disconcerting. Spike kept expecting more fight from him, and Xander kept melting easier and deeper into whatever story was woven around him.

When they were both done, Spike dumped everything in the sink. "You'll do the clean up later," he ordered, reaching down to rub Xander's arse and worm a finger between his cheeks, rubbing over his hole. "I think something else is hungry, isn't it, baby? Your pussy's still aching and wet, huh?"

Xander squirmed, excitement and a little trepidation warring inside him. "Yes, Daddy, but..." Xander hesitated, not sure if it was okay to voice his fears. "It h-hurts a little." Because it did hurt, even if it felt good, too.

Spike wanted to say Good. I want you to hurt, want you to bleed and cry while I fuck you until you come.

But that was for later.

Instead, he said, "Your clit or your pussy?"

Xander blushed flame red, leaning forward to hide his face in Spike's chest. "M-my clit."

"Aww, rubbed it raw, did you? Don't worry, pet. Daddy doesn't want you hurting now, so we'll take it slow." Pressing slightly on Xander's entrance, just enough to make him jumped like he was goosed, Spike withdrew his finger and pushed Xander towards the bedroom. "Bed, girl. You have tv in there?"

Because Spike was pretty sure Xander would take to cocksucking like a duck to water, and one thing he loved was watching tv, pretending (sometimes) to completely ignore a pretty pet while they pleasured him.

"Yes, Daddy," Xander said. "Like to watch while I fall asleep."

He climbed onto the bed, knee-walking across it and reaching for the remote. He twisted, turning onto his back to hand the remote to Spike. "Are you going to watch TV now?" he asked, worrying that his complaint earlier had made Spike think Xander didn't want to do anything else. "'Cause it doesn't hurt that much, Daddy. I didn't meant to complain," he said, ducking his head and wishing he'd kept his mouth shut.

"Shh," Spike said absently, stroking the boy's come-sticky face while he figured out the remote. No such thing as point-and-click anymore. You had to worry about boxes and dvd players and whatever else. Finally getting the right combination, the tv flared on, and Spike could look back at Xander.

Who was still on his knees, half twisted, eyes shut in blissful happiness while Spike rubbed his lips and pinched them.

Hooray for autopilot, Spike thought.

"Pull the covers down," he instructed, mostly to give the boy something to do. Stripping off, Spike threw himself down, rolling his shoulders to get comfortable. Crypts were nice, sure, but beds. Beds were where it worked best. Sighing happily, he patted his thigh. "Here, girl, c'mere. Now, then. Do you really think if I wanted to fuck you, I wouldn't do it?"

Xander's brow furrowed but after a moment he shook his head. "You should," he said.

"That's right. Daddy should, and Daddy would, because what are you?"

"His girl," Xander said, eager relish painted over the word.

Spike knew he'd struck a cord there. "What else are you, pretty."

"Daddy's -- Daddy's toy." Xander's voice went high and breathy again as he spoke. "Daddy's cock-slut."

"That's right, such a good girl you are, remembering your lessons. The only person who decides is me, pet. If I choose to wait, it's because I want to wait. Now, then. Lie down with your head on my belly. Its' time for you to learn how to suck Daddy's cock, and that CSI thingie's coming on soon. I want to watch it." While you suck, and fumble, and choke, and cry while trying to make me feel good.

Xander went eagerly, laying his cheek on Spike's belly. He licked his lips nervously while he waited for Spike to tell him what to do. He preened, rolling his head up when he felt Spike's fingers petting his hair.

"Never done this before, Daddy. Want to be good," he said, meaning it. "Tell me what to do."

Xander jumped when Spike slapped his head, not hard enough to really hurt but it made Xander feel small and stupid. A punishment.

"Told you I would. Told you Daddy would teach you, didn't I, slut?" Spike said, and Xander nodded miserably. "There now, pet," Spike said, gently petting again. "Know you're an eager thing, and Daddy likes that."

"Yes, Daddy," Xander said. "Just... didn't want to disappoint you." Don't want you to go away, he thought miserably.

Spike rubbed lightly on the tendons of Xander's neck, saying, "Do what your told, be your slutty self, and you can't disappoint me." He kept rubbing, gentle and slow, until he felt Xander nod obediently. "Good girl. Now, then, I want you to kiss the head of my cock. Feel what a real one is, not that stubby bit of a clit you have."

Xander's flush warmed his stomach as he inched forward. "Can -- can I touch it, Daddy?"

"For now, you can. Eventually though, pet, you'll use your mouth only, like a proper cocksucker." Xander's flushed again, harder, hips tightening to show his humiliated pleasure. Mmm. Then he carefully lifted Spike's cock up into a better position and nervously kissed the tip.

"I like it wet, girl. Get your mouth nice and slick for me, then lick around the head. Explore. I'll let you know if you're doing something wrong."

God, Xander's clit throbbed at Spike's words. He was excited and scared, taking a cock in his mouth for the first time. Excitement won over though, and he could feel arousal simmering.

Xander let the saliva gather in his mouth for a second before opening up and licking at Spike's cock head. He wanted to put his mouth on it, wanted to feel what it was like to suck, but Spike had told him just to lick. So, he rubbed his tongue over the crown, then used the tip to trace a wet line around the flared head.

Xander listened carefully for any sounds that Spike made, hoping to get some more instruction. If he heard anything, any small sound, Xander would spend some time concentrating on whatever spot he'd been licking across. He spent a lot of time rasping his tongue over the tip, where the slit was. Poking it with the tip of his tongue and pressing as hard as he could with the flat of it. He also heard Spike actually breathe out a long breath when he touched his tongue to just under the head, so he stayed there, licking and licking until his jaw started to feel sore and his tongue got tired.

Spike had the volume down low enough that Xander, if he was good, could listen for cues. Even still, Spike was mildly surprised when Xander did -- a bit of Anya, there? Hm.

Idly, he started playing with Xander's hair, scratching over his scalp while the boy familiarized himself with a cock not his own. "Good, that's good, pet. Now, then, I like long, powerful suction. You won't be able to do that, yet, so try to take as much as you can, then suck on that. You're don't just fine. Don't worry if you choke, or cry," Spike added, a hint of pleasure curling through his voice while he pressed his nails in juuust enough to Xander's head. "I like that."

With that, he raised the volume a little bit and settled in to watch Grissom do something stupid on the telly.

Oh. Spike said he could suck now, that he could try to take as much of Spike as he could. Nervously, Xander opened his mouth wide and swallowed the head. It stretched his lips, panicked him just a little, but then he went further, lips sliding easily over the thinner, still thick but not quite as wide as the head, shaft.

He had to stop for a second, to force himself not to choke, but then Spike shifted, not really thrusting just readjusting himself on the bed and his cock pushed in too far. Xander choked, eyes suddenly stinging with tears. His nostrils flared as he tried to continue breathing, tried to keep from panicking at the sensation of his mouth, his throat being full.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the way Spike's fingers were drifting over his scalp, occasionally teasing the lobe of his ear. He inhaled again, teasing his senses with Spike's musky scent. When he opened his eyes he was staring at the curly hairs at the base of Spike's cock. He wasn't anywhere near taking all of Spike in his mouth, but he knew that when he did, when Spike taught him how, he'd have his nose buried there.

The thought made him shudder, scary and enticing all at once.

He swallowed convulsively, and Spike breathed a soft moan, so he did it again. He started to suck, too, lifting his mouth and then pushing back. Up and down, sucking as hard as he could though he knew he was nowhere near expert.

Spike had had just about every kind of blowjob there was. Practiced were nice, after all, since they did the trick more hotly and faster than anything else.

Innocent, though. Eager. Those were the very best.

Xander was making hitching little moans with each pull, nearly arythmic as he awkwardly bobbed up and down, rubbing his cheek into Spike's stomach. It was... not really all that good, honestly. He let his teeth out too much and he could barely take more than half the shaft.

But oh, it was so fucking good.

"On your belly," Spike murmured, soft and persuasive as he pushed Xander into better position. "Angle it so it slides in smooth. You aren't ready for acrobatic yet. There, good girl, such an eager bitch you are. Use your tongue, too -- you've had blowjobs before, haven't you? Back before you knew you had a clit instead of a man's cock? Try'n remember what that was like."

Spike had no doubt Anya gave fantastic blowjobs.

Xander tried not to feel like he was doing everything wrong. Spike said that he was a good girl, even if he was telling Xander to do it better.

He inched down, getting into a position that would let Spike's cock slide in smoother, a little deeper. He tried to remember what it had been like to have Anya go down on him. Faith had done it, too. Only because Xander had been so nervous that he hadn't gotten hard fast enough for her.

He remember, too, the way Faith had ordered him around and used him for her own pleasure had made him feel. He'd pushed those feelings aside afterward, and told himself that it had been wrong and that being used like that wasn't supposed to feel good.

Xander went down as far as he could and felt Spike's cock head press deep. He swallowed, trying to massage it with his throat. He didn't think he was that successful, but Spike's praise made his chest swell and his cheeks color.

"Good girl," Spike said. "Trying so hard to be the good little cock slut Daddy knows you can be."

Xander increased his suction, wanting more than anything to make Daddy feel so good that he came down Xander's throat. That he lost control and let Xander really taste him.

It was just a bit of precome, just a teasing little taste, but Xander still reacted beautifully. Went wild, trying to find every bit of it and managed to do what he'd been so carefully trying to avoid, previously -- got Spike's cock hard against his throat, couldn't breathe and started choking at the same time and had to back off.

Spike pounced.

He rolled Xander into his lap, laughing into that red, tear-stricken face and kissed hot cheeks breathlessly. "Yes," he purred, exultant over Xander's discomfort. He was too busy trying to breathe to get himself back under control, and Spike loved every second of it. "That's it, baby, choke for me, breathless and crying... Christ, you're so beautiful like this, hurting and mine."

"Daddy," Xander choked the word, burrowing against him. He felt humiliated, cheeks wet with tears at the way he'd choked. Even though Daddy seemed to like it. Had called Xander beautiful. "Daddy," Xander said again, curling close. He ached, aroused again even though it still hurt a little. He whined, rocking himself against Daddy's erection, careful not to put any pressure on his own abused clit.

Xander knew his face was red, that he was snotty and teary-eyed still. He tried to bury his face against Daddy's neck, but Daddy wouldn't let him. He cupped Xander's cheek and rubbed across the tear tracks with his thumb.

"I like this," Spike said, fiercely as he kissed Xander's mouth. "You hear me, girl? I like it when you hurt for me, when you try so hard that you hurt and still want to please me." He wanted to tattoo the words into Xander's skin, his brain, trying to make him remember that Spike was a vampire -- pain and blood were things that made him hot, and he wanted Xander to like them, too.

So much easier, in the long run.

"Good girl, hurting yourself just for Daddy, being so good... " Spike kept up the praises, letting Xander catch his breath -- without hiding; Spike didn't want that -- stroking up and down his throat until Xander started coughing light in involuntary reaction. "Good girl, good cocksucker. You ready to go back, baby? Ready to slide Daddy back into your mouth and suck and suck and suck? Just like a baby, needing something to nurse on, that's you, pretty slut, come on, back you go..."

Gently, he shifted Xander so his legs and arse were near Spike's shoulders, the rest of him draped down so he could duck his head and take Spike back into his mouth. His eyes were glazed, completely focused on Spike's fingers in his hair, the cock in his mouth, and the words Spike gave him. "That's it, good girl, doing just right. Take it slow, Daddy wants to watch telly for a bit..." Now that he'd shown Xander what he liked, sometimes, it was time to show him the other side. How good it felt to just suck, mindless and happy with tiny, childlike motions that no one born human every really forgot.

Xander closed his eyes and suckled. Spike kept calling him a good girl, a sweet hungry baby. Xander liked it, wanted to be it, wanted to be whatever Spike wanted him to be.

He didn't try to take Spike all the way in again, he just... suckled at the heat, almost like an absent-minded reflex more than anything else. With Spike petting him, and his voice running low and smooth over Xander, it was easy to relax and just let instinct take over.

"Hmmm," Xander hummed, breathing the scent of Spike in. It sent a shiver of want through him.

He started to rock his hips, absently seeking some light friction.

Spike caught the movement. It looked pretty, his pet enjoying the blowjob, but...

Grinning, Spike slapped that pretty arse. Hard.

Xander squeaked, pulling off so fast he grazed his teeth hard over Spike's cock, which earned him another hard slap. "I thought I explained it to you," Spike said with a curl of disappointment in his voice. Not as thick as it should've been, not with Xander terrified it'd be real. "You don't frig your clit unless I tell you to."

"Didn't mean to," Xander said hurriedly. "Sorry, Daddy." He felt another wave of shame wash over him. He'd messed up again, and all because he was the horny slut his Daddy kept calling him. "'M sorry," he mumbled, biting his lip and trying not to tear up again. "C-can I keep sucking, Daddy?" God, he hated the way he kept stumbling over his words. Xander was afraid now that Spike was angry, that he'd take that pleasure away from Xander too.

Any other boy and they'd be pissed as hell that they couldn't get off, hell, disappointed that their new Daddy didn't enjoy how much obedience was clearly getting Xander off.

Nope, he had Xander. Who went miserable at the thought of doing anything to displease Spike.

Pushing the boy back to his dick, Spike murmured, "How in hell did Anya give you up? I figured an ex-demon like her, she'd ordered you around to your heart's content. Turn you into the sex-slut you already were. Why didn't she?" He gripped Xander's hair, holding his head just out of reach and putting a fair amount of strain on the boy's neck. "Tell me."

The chip stayed quiet, quiet, quiet.

"W-wouldn't let her," Xander said, this time stuttering through the pain Spike was inflicting. "Wasn't r-right," Xander trying to think of an explanation for something he didn't really understand himself. "After," Xander gasped. "After Faith, told myself. Told myself it wasn't right."

"Faith?" Spike vaguely remembered her, the dark-haired Slayer with the wicked streak that matched his own. Something about her in Buffy's body when she'd gone after him... "You made it with a Slayer?"

"Just once," Xander said, straining against Spike's hold, not because he wanted to get away but because his body was weak and he was really starting to feel the pain. "Daddy, please."

Spike jerked on his hair and Xander cried out. "Tell me."

"I, uhm, don't know how it happened. I mean, she just kind of pulled me in. To her room I mean," Xander said, trying to hold himself still. "She threw me onto the bed. Laughed when I couldn't get hard fast enough." Xander's cheeks bloomed with renewed heat at the memory. "She sucked me to get me hard enough and then she rode me. She didn't even care if I came. I could tell," Xander said, adding softly, "I came anyway."

He trembled.

"Then she threw me out."

Spike let the boy go slowly, thinking. On the one hand, Xander's fear about being tossed out like garbage had a valid past. Not just hers, but she twisted it up with sex nicely. On the other, the idea of a Slayer barking out orders, getting herself off with a pretty boy like Xander... mm.

On the third hand, damn, his pet had made it with a Slayer? Nice.

Spike scratched lightly where he'd been tugging, pushing Xander's head back to his stomach. "Suck," he ordered. "My pretty girl with a Slayer. Not many who can say that, pet. Did you like it? Did you like when she shoved you down, held you there and made you take it? Don't try and use words, pet. Hum once for yes, twice for no."

Xander hummed, guilt coming through strongly.

Rubbing the boy's neck idly, Spike laughed. "See, pet, she knew what you were even then. A girl for pleasure. For use. Only she was stupid enough to think once was enough and me, pet? I'm a lot smarter than that."

Xander hummed again, just because the idea that Spike wanted to keep him, maybe forever, made Xander glow warm inside.

He hadn't told Spike the rest and he felt a little guilty, but he was too embarrassed to admit that Faith had made him suck her pussy afterward, that she hadn't bothered with condoms and that he'd tasted himself inside her.

The memory of being dominated like that, of her pushing him down and forcing him to drink his own come from her cunt made him whine and suck Spike harder.

Xander was starting to relax again, if slowly, his shoulders settling nicely as he took more and more of Spike inside him. He probably wasn't even aware of it, not with his eyes half-closed and his body slowly turning to putty. It just felt good, so he did it, knowing it would please Spike.

"Good girl," he praised, softly. "Such a sweet slut. I bet she wanted you still, pet. Maybe peg you, like she should, or have you eat her out. I bet she dreamed about that mouth, her thighs around your ears. But she couldn't have you, oh no. You were mine already, pet." That, and a girl like Faith wouldn't come back to a prior fuck. That meant something more than just fucking, something she'd run state lines to avoid. "Good girl."

Even though he knew he'd probably get in trouble for it, Xander pulled off Spike's cock. The guilt was starting to eat away at him, so when he kept his eyes averted. "Am yours, Daddy," he said, because it was true. "But I lied, 'm sorry, Daddy, please don't be mad."

"Lied?"

Xander could hear the steely edge to Spike's voice and it made him wince.

"What? You never had the slayer bitch?"

"No!" Xander said, looking up in surprise because of course that part was true. "I meant, she didn't just fuck me and throw me out. She did make me, uhm, eat her out, just like you said. Made me suck my own come from her pussy," Xander said, blushing furiously again. "Was the first time I ever tasted come."

Xander reached out, petting Spike's cock in absentminded comfort, the feel of it in his hand soothing his nerves.

"Was hard again when I was done. That's when she threw me out."

Spike heard the obvious conclusion that Xander had reached -- that since he was hard, he was disgusting and deserved it. Spike had a slightly different response and flicked the boy's mouth in glee. "Look at that, my girl was too much even for a Slayer. See, pet, I've met women like Faith before. They like it when you're malleable and do what they say, but see, the moment you like it, well. That's just more'n they can handle. They want to be hated for what they're doing. And you, pretty bitch that you are, you can't hate someone for seeing what you are. You like it."

Xander didn't really understand, Spike knew that, but he nodded like it made sense. "O-okay, Daddy?"

"How's your clit, pet." Spike tugged, twisting Xander so he could softly stroke the boy's half-hard cock. "Still hurting?" Three hours better be enough for a boy Xander's age.

"Little," Xander said, rocking up into Spike's hand. "But feels good, too. Make me feel good, Daddy?" Xander said, sighing as Spike stroked him. He was already half-hard. Xander had been thinking about this forever, thinking about all the things Spike had said to him on the couch. "Use me, Daddy, please? Show me how to please you with my pussy. Let me come with you inside me." Xander was whimpering and squirming, getting himself hot at the thought of Spike finally taking him like that.

Tugging lightly on Xander's cock, he let it go with a grunt of pleasure. No flinching, anymore. "Where're your supplies, pet? I know Anya didn't take everything with her."

That made Xander flush a nice, cherry tomato red. It was truly lovely, as was his still-red arse when he scrambled to look under the bed, waving it in the air. Spike smacked it, lightly, just to hear Xander squeak.

When Xander pulled out a large tupperware container, Spike smacked him again. "There's my dirty girl," he whispered, opening it up to reveal -- treasures. A dildo, several vibrators, butt-plugs, a veritable cornucopia of condoms and, most importantly, lube. Lots of it, and not expired. In several different brands

"Give Daddy kisses," he instructed, biting Xander's tongue when he complied, making them both moan. "Good girl. Take out the lube you like best and then I want you to straddle my legs, facing away. I want your clit brushing against my cock, pet, and I want your mouth on my feet. You're going to thank Daddy for every finger he slides up into that greedy, hungry pussy of yours."

"Yes, Daddy," he said, stomach fluttering. Oh, god, Spike was really going to do it.

Xander straddled Spike just like he'd said, hesitating only briefly before taking one of Spike's big toes into his mouth. He'd never kissed anyone's feet before, but he'd do anything to make Spike happy. He sucked and laved the big toe, practicing what he wanted to do to Spike's cock.

He lifted off only when the first drops of cold lube landed on his hole. His gasp turned into a moan when Spike's finger pressed inside him. "Thank you, Daddy," Xander breathed, pushing back like the slut Spike kept calling him. It was true. He'd never known it before, but god, he was such a horny, willing, slut. He'd do anything for Spike. Anything to keep Spike like this, making him feel so... wanted and sexy and hot.

Spike carefully worked the first finger in. The chip had allowed a modicum of abuse, but taking virgin cunny hurt, no two ways about it, and Spike didn't want a zap at the wrong moment. "That's it, girl. Don't have to suck, just kiss, pet, like a good bitch should, kissing her Daddy's feet while he makes her feel good. Filling her hungry, sopping pussy... "

Xander was so hot inside, an oven of warmth and fluttering softness that grew slick with each pass of his finger. It took long minutes to work the first one in entirely, Spike holding it there while Xander kissed the tops of his feet and his toes, making little whining breaths as his body slowly got used to the intrusion.

"Relax, pet, nice, deep breaths," he instructed, "let Daddy get you ready, get you nice and hot and wet.... shhh, in and out, girl, slow.."

"Please, please," Xander was babbling words without really knowing it. "Want it, daddy, please." He was rocking slowly, wanting more of Daddy's fingers, wanting his cock. "Need Daddy's cock, please."

He kept kissing Daddy's feet, feeling more and more desperate. "So good. Feels so good. Fill my pussy, Daddy. Feed your baby's hungry cunt. Said you'd take care of me," Xander whimpered, when he added a second finger.

Spike curled his fingers, zeroing in on the prostate (it'd always been a skill of his) with a little jab. "And isn't this taking care of you?" he demanded.

"Yes! Daddy, yes! Right there, don't stop, please!" Xander was moaning and thrusting back. "I didn't know, Daddy, didn't know how good it was to have something inside me. Have you inside my pussy, making me feel so good. Your good slut. Be your good slut, Daddy, please don't stop."

Smiling slightly, Spike worked in a third, then a fourth finger. It took a while. Xander was eager, and willing, but his body was virginal and there was no way around it. So he petted the boys arse and legs, and thought about one day putting his whole hand inside Xander.

Later, though.

For now, Spike kept going until Xander was sucking kisses into Spike's feet in between babbling, lube dripping down over his balls, mind spiraling into haze need.

Xander wasn't talking anymore, just humming and moaning as Daddy's fingers stretched him. He kept kissing and licking Daddy's feet, hoping that he was making Daddy feel half as good as he was feeling.

But he wanted so much more. He wanted Daddy inside him.

When Daddy finally pulled his fingers free after fucking Xander's pussy with three fingers for what felt like forever, Xander groaned in disappointment. He felt raw and open and empty.

"Please," he whimpered, almost sobbing the word.

"Shh," Spike crooned, "shh, good girl. Your pussy's so hot for me, so wet and ready. Sit up, pet, and turn around. Sit on Daddy's cock."

Oh, god. Sit on Daddy's cock? That meant that Daddy wanted Xander to fuck himself. That it was going to be all on Xander to please them both. He felt nervous, but weirdly proud that Daddy was leaving it all (mostly) to him.

Xander chewed his bottom lip as he lifted himself above Daddy's lap, reaching down to position Daddy's cock so that it was just kissing his hungry hole. Closing his eyes, he groaned as he let himself sink down onto the thick shaft, feeling the burn and stretch of it.

"Daddy," Xander breathed, relief and arousal and something warm unfurling in his belly.

Spike sucked in a breath, reaching out to grab hold of the boy's cock. "Hold still," he said, mostly because he needed a minute. Xander just... swallowed him down. A few hitches, a few shifts to re-angle, but otherwise there was none of the slow, shallow thrusting virgins normally required.

Just: cock. Inside of him.

"Good girl. That's good." He rubbed the boy's cock nicely, tugging on balls that rested on his stomach, before taking his hands away. "Fuck yourself on me until I come."

"Oh," Xander said, mouth forming an actual circle for just a moment as he adjusted himself on Daddy's cock. "Yes, Daddy." He liked saying that, liked feeling the obedient girl.

It felt... good, good but strange because he'd never in his life had a real cock inside him.

Lifting up slowly, Xander let himself sink back down. Up and down. Faster and faster until he was gasping and groaning each time he slammed himself back onto Daddy's cock.

"Feels good. So good," he murmured, unable to stop himself from wrapping his arms around his Daddy's neck and hugging him close. He wanted to be as close as possible, wanted to feel Daddy all around him. Without being told, he began to contract his muscles, squeezing Daddy's cock every time he bottomed out.

He really was pretty, was the thing, all loose-limbed glory that bucked and strained, muscles tightening and releasing all over as he slid himself up and down. It took him a bit to get the proper rhythm, which Spike enjoyed, then the way he just seemed to understand what to do. The way his arse tightened on the upstroke, the way he whined and whimpered, huffing out breathes of enjoyment that almost sounded like pain. The way his legs scrabbled until Spike grabbed them, holding them down until the skin turned white around his fingers...

"Beautiful."

When Xander started to lose balance Spike sat up without questioning it, allowing Xander to wrap himself around him, tight and sweaty and sex-warmed, fucking Spike and letting his cock rub all over Spike's belly...

"Fuck, gorgeous, you are."

"I am?" Xander said, breathless. He ducked his head, burying his face against Spike's neck. He loved knowing that Daddy thought he was pretty, that he thought he was gorgeous and beautiful. Xander wrapped himself around Spike, cock fully seated in Xander's pussy.

Instead of trying to lift himself up and down, Xander started to grind his pussy against Daddy's pelvis, whimpering when the cock head rubbed over that sweet spot inside him. He undulated, contracting around Daddy's cock, trying to milk the come from his body.

"Daddy," Xander said. "Daddy. Come inside me, please. Want it. Want to feel you filling me." Xander felt hot, feverish. Felt as if he were going crazy with wanting it.

Spike couldn't stop touching skin, the apple-red flush that covered Xander's body until he glowed with blood and sex and life, with the kind of thrumming, instinctive beauty that was primal for human and vampire both.

Xander kept talking, but Spike couldn't hear the words. Just the need, aching and innocent no matter how dirty the framework. The desire to be used, to be taken, for him to be the reason Daddy came...

He surged upward. Couldn't take it, couldn't wait, throwing Xander onto the bed so hard the boy bounced, Spike sliding back inside so fast it hurt, had to hurt, it hurt Spike, but all Xander did was moan and tighten his arse around Spike's cock and oh, coming, and coming, Spike was coming...

Fuck, yes. Just what he wanted.

His arms collapsed first. Spike didn't bother trying to catch himself, just staggered in stages until he was spread flat over Xander, cock still in his pussy, hips moving idly as he road through the aftershocks. "That," he murmured, "is a proper fuck, with a proper bitch."

Xander whimpered. He was still hard, still hurt, but Daddy was inside him, had come inside him. He reached out without thinking to pull Daddy's face to his and kiss him.

"Thank you," Xander said, breathless. "Thank you, Daddy."

He wriggled, feeling full and sore and messy. His belly was wet with his own juices, as Daddy's cock pulsed again, teasing him. Unable to stop himself, he writhed, rubbing his clit against Daddy's stomach, biting his lip against the almost painful sensation that washed through him.

"Daddy," Xander whined.

Spike hummed, pushing a lazy finger into Xander's mouth. "Shut up," he murmured. Xander's neck was right there, salty with sweat and Spike licked it a few times. Mm. "You're hurting, hm? Your little clit all raw and sore? Good girl, Daddy likes that."

He knew, vaguely, that being so cruel right now wasn't optimal. But he wanted to be cruel, wanted to feel Xander bite his lip and stuff back whimpers of pain the chip wouldn't call him on. He wanted Xander to hurt. For Spike.

"Close your eyes, pet, that's a good girl." Amazing how one could feel the muscles in the cheek and neck moving to show obedience. "Breathe out, concentrate on your pussy. How full and sated it feels. Your clit, pet, that's irrelevant. A little button only Daddy gets to press when he wants to. Think about how good you feel, used and abused, thick with Daddy's come inside your hungry pussy. Like it, pet. Learn to love it."

"Do," Xander whined, drawing the word out as he arched and shifted, feeling everything daddy told him to. "Full. Full of my daddy. Feel so good."

Xander didn't know how to explain how he was feeling. He just knew that... that daddy wanted him, that he'd been used by daddy, for daddy, and that he liked it. He liked feeling wanted and useful and good. He liked feeling like he belonged to somebody, like he mattered.

He gasped, his chest suddenly feeling tight as he wrapped his arms around daddy, and buried his face against daddy's shoulder.

Spike allowed the touch, fingers sliding over smooth skin. He pinched, occasionally, and sometimes even slapped -- Xander's arse was pert and begging for a spanking -- between the soothing caress. He wasn't trying to create a rhythm so much as show pain and pleasure as both, as "... just like that, pretty comeslut. Daddy wants your pain as well as your pleasure, so you, slut, you love the pain, too. Look at you, taking Daddy's slaps so sweet. Letting me hurt you without a whisper from the chip, such a good girl."

The most amazing thing was when Xander relaxed and started accepting it. Oh, he was still clinging, still hitching a touch when he remembered -- but otherwise he was loose, breathing as steady as if he was near sleep, pliant as he let Spike do whatever he wanted.

"Such a sweet girl," Spike crooned, raking his nails along Xander's sore arse. "Learning all the things a proper bitch should, a treat for her Daddy. Shhh, it's okay, baby, you can whimper and make noise if you want. Moan, treasure, Daddy likes hearing you enjoy what he does."

So Xander moaned and whined, high-pitched and sweet like the girl Spike wanted him to be. Spike enjoyed it, the way Xander's body reddened in precursor to what would be bruises, and the way his body tightened rhythmically around Spike's cock, like his subconscious craved to be fucked again, even if it would hurt.

Later, Spike would do that. Fuck the boy until he was raw, until there was no come in him left.

For now, though, Spike disengaged a little carelessly, sliding down so he was even with Xander's cock and worked his tongue, getting his mouth wet. "You know, pet, I always did like eating out cunt. How easy it was to slide my tongue across a clit and feel her come, uncontrollable and programmed. Because that's what you are, pet. Your clit is a button only Daddy can push." Looking up, Spike met Xander's eyes. "Come, pet," he instructed, and slid Xander's cock into his wet, soft mouth.

Xander cried out, a sobbing, hitching breath that almost felt never ending. Daddy's mouth was on his clit, sucking and licking and making Xander feel like he'd exploded into a million itty bitty pieces. He couldn't even speak, just whimpered and moaned, every spasm of his orgasm causing just as much pain as pleasure, his body so tautly wired.

Finally, his body started to ease, to slow down. Muscles still twitching, his clit pulsing and throbbing inside Daddy's mouth, Xander said, "Oh, oh. Hurts." And it did hurt, but Xander never stopped thrusting, rocking his hips up as Daddy soothed him with his tongue. Daddy had told him to come, had let him come, and Xander wanted to treasure it, eek out ever single spasm of pleasure.

He hissed through his teeth, jaw clenched as his body arced and stretched, writhing at daddy's touch.

Spike sucked a final time along the tip, licking a broad swipe. "Mm. Your juices taste good, bitch. I think I'll look into milking, would you like that? I'd press on you here," Spike dug a finger behind Xander's balls, long practice hitting the right spot unerringly, "and the place inside you, press and press and press until you juice all over your clit and your thighs without ever really coming."

A punishment, maybe, or a game they'd play one day. After all, Spike liked it when his new pet came hard and sweet, liked using pleasure to bind him more securely than pain ever could. But Xander didn't have to know that.

"Empty you out so your as innocent as a baby," Spike murmured, kissing up Xander's body to his mouth and fucking it with his tongue, letting Xander suck whenever he had the chance. "I think I like you as a baby, pretty girl. See, babies are dependent, just like you." Suddenly tired, Spike rolled onto his back and waved down to his sticky cock and thighs. "Clean me up, bitch, and then tell me how you'd like to sleep."

Xander ignored the way his body wanted to just melt into the mattress. He felt like he could sleep for weeks, sated and sore and happy. But he rolled onto his knees instead and immediately took daddy's cock into his mouth. He suckled, humming contentedly for a moment, then released the treat to lick along the shaft, cleaning daddy up just like he'd asked.

Every once in a while, Xander would take daddy's cock in again, just letting the fullness rest on his tongue. He liked it there, liked feeling daddy inside him, whether it was his mouth or his pussy.

He took his time because daddy didn't seem to care and he liked the absent minded way that daddy kept petting his hair. It felt good, and he found himself curling up into the touch.

When he was done, making sure to lick daddy's balls clean, too, he laid down between daddy's legs and rested his cheek against one of daddy's thighs.

"'M done, daddy," he said, feeling exhausted and sleepy. "Can I stay here, daddy?" he asked, snuggling closer to the crease between daddy's thigh and his groin. He inhaled deeply, loving the way daddy's scent had mixed with his.

It wasn't quite the answer Spike had asked for, but Spike could figure it out without the words. "Hang on, slut."

Exhausted -- sex and blood and pain and sex -- Spike spread the blankets so they'd make a half-circle around the two of them. Didn't want Xander waking up and thinking he was smothered, or some such rot. And Spike liked blankets. Didn't need em, but oh, he liked to feel the softness over his chest.

Satisfied, Spike roughly pushed on the hinge of Xander's jaw, forcing his mouth open. "Suck," he ordered, smirking at the ceiling when Xander immediately mouthed his way onto Spike's cock, pressing it fully into his mouth and sucking like a child. "Good toy," he praised, stroking Xander's hair soothingly. "That's a good cock-whore. You can stay there, just like that."

Honestly, Spike wanted to stay awake. He wanted to plot and plan and marvel at this pretty pet who was busily giving himself over to whatever Spike wanted.

But the moment Xander's breathing evened out to sleep, Spike couldn't keep his eyes open, and with a sigh, he slept.

Xander hurt when he woke. His ass, his jaw, his cock. Everything was sore. The minute his eyes opened, memories from the night before flooded him. His cock hardened, even as he shied away from everything he'd said and done and felt. He jerked back from Spike's cock, face flushed with shame.

Jesus.

Spike woke with a snort, reaching out to grip the back of Xander's head and hold him still. "Now, now, pet. That's not how you wake someone up." For one thing, teeth scraping the length of your cock was just downright rude.

"S-spike," Xander stammered, feeling confused and ashamed. "W-w-what -- " Jesus, he couldn't stop stammering. He was shaking now, too.

Xander wrapped his arms around himself, trying to warm up, trying to wake up. This was a dream, right? It had to be a dream. Xander would never have... except, even now, he was still hard. And he could still taste Spike on his tongue.

He remember the feel of Spike inside him, remembered the way his own body had jerked and exploded with orgasm as Spike had touched him, sucked him.

Xander didn't fight when Spike pulled at him, bringing him closer. He jerked though, when Spike twisted his nipple so hard that the pain nearly made him levitate from the bed.

"There, there," Spike murmured, soothing the nippled he'd just twisted. "I know, thinking again, are we? Such an awful thing, thinking. Makes you forget how good it felt, how easy to just let Spike take care of you, let him make you feel like the sweet, pretty sex-toy you are. Shhh, pet, relax, let me touch you..."

Interestingly enough, Xander was letting Spike touch him however he wanted. Spike kept it soft, soothing and pleasurable outside of the occasional twist or open-handed slap. That was mostly to keep Xander off guard, but also cause he liked it.

For a moment, Spike had a brief image of Xander trussed up like a pony, bit in his mouth, tail in his pussy, arching as Spike smacked his rump to make him go faster. Mm.

"See, pet?" Surreptitious, Spike spilled a puddle of lube and swiped a finger through it, worming that down between Xander's cheeks without ever truly penetrating him. "See, it feels good now, doesn't it. You want to suck on something, hm? That'll make you feel better, make you remember how things are now."

"I... it, oh," Xander gasped when Spike's fingernail scratched across his hole. "It does feel good?" he said, though it sounded more like a question. Because it sort of was. It did feel good, but it wasn't supposed to, was it?

Xander found himself curling closer, shifting in whatever direction Spike felt like pushing and pulling him. He was losing himself, as he tried to block out all the crazy thoughts and emotions that last night's memories were giving him. He wanted to just ignore it, forget it. Wanted to just give into the way Spike was making him feel.

Spike was taking care of him. It felt good to have someone else care about him like that. To have someone else decide what he needed and give it to him.

"Talk to me, come-slut," Spike murmured. Carefully, he slid a finger inside Xander's pussy -- no flinching, good, although he did tense a bit. Spike solved that by strumming over his prostate lightly. "I know it's so hard to think, pretty toy, something only big kids do, but you've got to tell me, pet. Tell me how to make you feel better, make you calm again."

Make you mine, again.

"Don't know," Xander said, whining the words. He wanted to burrow closer to Spike, to let Spike take care of him. "Can't think. Need... need you to tell me," he finally admitted.

Xander gasped, pushing back as Spike touched something inside him again, a spot that made him want to close his eyes and rock into the feeling.

"Please," he said, holding his breath as if he couldn't even do that, couldn't even breathe, without direction.

Spike caught the strained note in Xander's voice and mentally cursed. Overload. Dammit. If he let Xander veer too far off...

Then a faint memory of Dru, of puppy's and snail's tails, reminded him. Cupping the boy's throat he squeezed once -- hard enough that Xander choked -- then stroked it soft and slow, using the finger inside of Xander to tap out a rhythm on the boy's prostate. A neat bit of dexterity and yeah, there it went, working. Xander breathed, confused but unable to fight the dual assault, slumping into exhausted relief as air filled starved lungs.

"Do you remember yesterday? Do you remember how good I made you feel, how easy it was to let me touch you, teach you how to be a proper sex-toy for me to play with? Because that's what you are, pet. Remember, remember how good it felt to give yourself over to me, to be nothing but a mouth and a pussy, a fucktoy eager to be used, to be taken whenever I wish it. Remember that, pretty whore, remember who you are, now. Remember who I am."

"P-pretty whore?" Xander repeated on auto-pilot. He was concentrating on breathing, concentrating on the zings of pleasure that Spike's touches were giving him. "You fucked me," he said slowly, rolling his hips and groaning.

"That's right, pet," Spike said. "Fucked that sweet pussy of yours. That's what it was meant for, love. Just a ready hole for daddy's cock."

"Why do you," Xander said between breaths. "Why do you want me to be a girl?" Xander really wanted to know. If Spike wanted a girl, why didn't he just sleep with one? "I mean, you could have a girl. Why do you want, uhm, me?" Xander admitted, to himself at least, that he'd liked it. He'd come hard enough, anyway. And, yeah, he liked the way Spike made him feel... warm and sort of coddled.

He hated that he sounded needy and afraid. He hated that he was afraid. He shouldn't want this. Shouldn't want the things that Spike was doing to him. But at the same time, he was still afraid that it was all some kind of game. Or maybe just a one time, one night, kind of thing.

And that would be even worse, wouldn't it? That he'd let go and let himself want it, need it, like he had last night only to find out that Spike really was just playing with him.

Spike laughed, licking his lips. "Don't want a girl, pet. I want a bitch," he stressed, making it the nastiest, most depraved thing in existence. "Bitches are usually girls, but girls aren't always bitches, see? You, pet, you're a bitch. You're a fucktoy waiting to be claimed. And if I want to call you a girl, well, that's what I want to do. Gonna tell me no?"

"No," Xander said, then he winced. "I mean, I, uh, I don't know." His cock was aching. Spike's fingers were sliding in and out of him, teasing him almost unbearably. Xander started to whine, his cock leaking onto his thigh. He reached for it, stroking himself as he pressed back against Spike's fingers. "You... you make me crazy," Xander said, feeling tears prick the corners of his eyes. He'd thought about being with Spike, dreamed about it. But it was nothing like this. And, yet, this made him crazy, crazier than any of the fantasies he'd had before.

Spike let Xander get in one more stroke before he pulled his fingers out, shoved the boy onto his back and grabbed his cock in a punishing squeeze. This was risky: chip could make his life a misery right then.

But Xander mewled and squirmed and not a tingle spread through his brain.

Spike's grin was all teeth.

"You remember the chip, pet? Remember the thing that makes sure I can't hurt you?" He squeezed a tiny bit tighter. "It still works, you know. Wonder why it's not going off now."

Xander's hips left the bed as he thrust into Spike's hand. It was an automatic reaction, a bid to ease some of the pain, but it didn't help. Spike's words rushed through him and he felt his heart kick up, beating fast and hard against his chest.

"You're just... It can't... I mean, you can't... " Xander's mind whirled in confusion. "Hurts," he whimpered, muscles taut against the pain. "Please," he sobbed the word, pain and humiliation and fear all skittering around inside him even as he felt another droplet of pre-come squeeze from the tip of his cock.

Bugger. "All right," Spike groaned, tugging so that Xander could cuddle up against him, hands soothing without a bit of pain over his body. "Hush, calm down. I want you hurting, yeah, but not your clit to fall off. Shh, pet, calm down, it's all right. I'm here, shhhh."

Eventually, and it took damn longer than Spike preferred, Xander calmed.

"Better now?"

"No. I don't understand."

"That's clear, innit. You really objecting, though? Cause you've got a dick that's damn near raw from needing to come that says otherwise."

"Can I come, Spike?" Xander asked, and even that made his cock jerk. The fact that he had to ask permission, that Spike owned his pleasure and could dish it out one teeny spoonful at a time.

"No, not yet. You come now and it'll hurt. Best to let the erection go down normally, take care of it later." Wasn't that a mood killer, too.

Sighing, Spike rolled onto his feet and gestured for the boy to do this same. "You have work today?"

"Yes."

"Wanna call in sick?"

"I... do I?" Xander asked. He wasn't exactly sick, but he definitely didn't feel up to going to work. "I mean, yeah, I guess maybe I should."

Xander started to follow Spike, but then realized he was still completely naked. His cock was still hard, too. He detoured to his bureau, only to get a hard slap to his ass before he could reach it.

"Ow!" He rubbed at the sore spot, some of the fear from earlier seeping back in as he realized, again, that Spike could hurt him now. Maybe Spike was wrong. Maybe the chip was really broken? Xander just couldn't believe that it wasn't working just for him. What were the odds?

"I didn't say you should call off sick," Spike said, as patiently as he could. It really wasn't very. "I asked if you wanted to work. If you do, I'll let you, pet. I'm not your jailor, and you need to keep your job, make sure I'm flush with blood. But if you want to stay, get accustomed to the way things are gonna be, then you can."

Xander was still rubbing his ass, apparently fascinated by the bumps and tender scrapes he found there. Spike watched him for a moment, then said, "Unless you rather I spanked your arse red and tender right this moment?"

"Will I get to come afterward?" Xander asked tentatively. Because he was pretty sure that he couldn't take much more of Spike touching him without coming. He was not into pain, he wasn't, but even the idea of him reddening Xander's ass made Xander's cock ache.

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Think you can get off just from being spanked?"

Xander flushed, but tilted his head actually thinking of it.

His flush got redder.

"That answers that. Pet, just ten minutes ago you were complaining your dick hurt. I'll deny you lots of times sure. Only good toys get to come. But I enjoy it when my pets do come, which means you'll be doing so a lot. But not when your dick hurts." Not unless Spike felt like being cruel.

"But it hurts because I need to come!" Xander whined. He was seriously thinking about just going for it, a few good strokes and he'd be there, and just dealing with the consequences later. God, he didn't even know why he was considering consequences, except that when he thought about defying Spike he just knew that he'd be punished. And he was pretty sure that, though he wouldn't want the punishment itself, he wasn't going to deny Spike the right to give it to him.

Spike gave him an odd look. "Does it always hurt when you're horny?"

"Um. No, not always."

"Did it hurt with your demon?"

Xander appeared to think that over, absently rubbing a hand over his stomach. "Sometimes. More towards the end."

Reaching out, Spike pulled Xander against his side, rubbing the boy's stomach for him, stroking over the jut of his hips, his arse. Then he reached up and slapped Xander across the face. "Have you gone to a doctor?" he asked, very pleasantly.

"What? No," Xander said, feeling his face flush stupidly with embarrassment. "I mean, Anya used to... she used to make me wait, you know, like you're doing. So, sometimes it would hurt, you know? Because she drew it out for so long," Xander said, scrubbing at his face with the palm of his hand. "I figured, you know, that that was normal."

Xander didn't want to think about the times that Anya had kept him on edge for hours. He'd done it, allowed it, to please her. But she'd left anyway. Sometimes he'd wondered if he'd let her do everything she'd wanted, if maybe she might have stayed. Especially now that he knew how good it felt to be... fucked. Except, Xander didn't know if it was just the act itself, or what Spike did to him, the things he said and did, that made Xander feel so good.

Letting a morning erection go untended was 'waiting'? Spike wasn't sure -- no, scratch that. He didn't like the sound of that, not a bitty bit. But Xander was flushed and miserable again, a fainting tomato that pressed all that lovely heat from cheek to belly against Spike's side.

Distracting.

And annoying. Spike was going to have to do a lot of revision of his plan. He would have Xander whimpering and hurting just for Spike's pleasure. But... not like this. It was wrong like this, and Spike cringed a bit just thinking that. "All right," he sighed. "It's not normal, shouldn't hurt unless I've made you wait a lot longer than twenty minutes after bloody waiting, which means I've got to retrain you a bit before we can play some of the more serious games." Spike frowned at Xander, squinting a bit. "Don't take that personal," he cautioned, trying to be preemptive. "It's not you that's the problem, it's Anya's half-assed job at training. Sounds like she wanted to make a pretty pet out of you, but didn't have the balls to go through with it. Which means I've got to break you of bad habits before I can teach you new ones. Come on."

A shower, first. And wanking Xander off, maybe while he sucked Spike, because one thing that had been ground into that foolish head was that if Xander came, then Spike had to, also.

Such a difficulty, that was.

Spike turned on the taps hot. The downside of being a bloody vampire. Never were too hot or too cold, but it meant enjoying the blissful heat of a real, modern shower meant turning it to levels humans could just barely stand.

The shower was steaming when Spike nudged him inside. Xander could feel the heat before he even got under the spray, he water hitting him like sharp needles all along his skin.

He hissed, but didn't move away, at least not enough to get him out from under.

He could tell that Spike was... not exactly disappointed, but not exactly happy either. Xander couldn't help the way he felt. Now that he looked back on it, some of the things Anya had done to him had been... not as good as Xander had thought. God, he couldn't even explain it in his own head.

It was more the not knowing that threw Xander off. The fact that she was never consistent, that Xander was never able to obey the rules 100% of the time because the rules kept shifting. His erection wilted, a little, the more he thought about it. But he was still hard, and he still hurt, and he sure as hell still wanted to come.

The water burned, and when Spike settled behind him, Xander leaned back wanting the cool contrast of Spike's skin.

Spike let the water pour over him. It wasn't very vampire-like, wanting a shower, but as often as Spike liked getting dirty, he liked cleaning up after, too. Well, certain types of clean-up, anyway. Like his own person. So he let the water sluice hot and cleansing, washing away all the thoughts he didn't like, all the possibilities that were complicating his nice, new future and --

Hang on. He smelled burning human. It was pretty distinct, after all.

Swearing, Spike reached behind him and fiddled with the taps again, lowering it to something that wouldn't scald the idiot boy who let him. "You're an idiot," he said, fiercely, lifting up Xander's arms to trace the red marks. "What did I tell you, pet? Only I get to hurt you. Actively. Because I want to. Not because you're too mousy to let me know that hey, the water's too hot for you!" Looking up, he peered into Xander's eyes. "Are you damaged? Oh for -- don't pout, stupid girl, it's just not bloody normal for a grown up person like you to allow themselves to be injured like this! I want a pretty sex-toy, sure. I don't want a doll." Because, well, he'd had that. Not very interesting, really.

"Wasn't that hot," Xander said, feeling a little rebellious again. God, his emotions were swinging back and forth. He was so tired of it. Tired of trying so hard. He'd tried with Buffy, with Faith and Anya, hell, even with Willow. He always tried to be whatever they wanted, whatever they needed. He just wanted, for once, for someone to let him be what he wanted and to, maybe, take care of him for awhile. Xander had always felt, especially surrounded by so many girls, that it was his job to take care of everybody, even Buffy.

Hadn't Spike said something about taking care of his things? And hadn't Spike said Xander was his now? Not that Xander was sure he wanted to be a girl, or Spike's fucktoy, not 24-7, but he had liked it last night. And, maybe, after awhile, it wouldn't feel so strange. Maybe he wouldn't wake up feeling guilty and embarrassed.

"That's right, pet," Spike said, cool hands rubbing Xander's back.

And had Xander said that aloud? He was only now realizing that he'd curled against Spike, had practically buried his face against Spike's neck. The water was still pounding against his back, but it wasn't nearly as hot. In fact, it felt like a nice little massage, a hundred little hands working out all the kinks.

It was dawning on Spike, far slower than it should've, that Xander was really fucked up. It made a certain kind of sense -- the normal ones had too much shame to allow themselves to enjoy what Xander wanted, even if it did get them off. Too much pride. So for Xander to curl up against him like Spike could make everything better, like maybe Spike might want to make things better...

It was just a little bit heady. And, anyway, Spike had always been good at the damaged ones.

"Shh," he soothed, keeping his hands out of the water as much as possible so they'd stay cool against skin that was still too hot, even under a shower. He had smooth skin, Xander, damn near hairless for a boy nearing his twenties, and Spike doubted that he had another growth-spurt waiting for him. There was too much thick, barreled muscle around his torso for that. This was a man grown, physically.

Just not mentally.

"Shhh, pretty girl, I know. I know it's so hard, figuring out what's right and proper when you've only had idiot masters before. It's confusing, isn't it. Just want to know what you're to do, like a good, proper little girl, and no one ever tells you." Spike kept up his words under Xander stopped shuddering, until the boy's skin was still fine, still strokeably smooth but no longer glowing with heat. "Now, then, little slut, look at me. Listen to me, all right?"

Xander's eyes were pitch black as he nodded.

"Unless I am actively hurting you -- touching you, telling you to do something I know'll cause you pain, anything like that -- you need to say something, all right? I'm not human. You've got a damn high pain-threshold," and wasn't that a mixed blessing, "which means you can take a lot more than most. That's a good thing, pet," mostly, "but it means I'm not sure where the lines are. The only time you hurt is when I want you too, all right? And if you aren't sure, ask me. Good girls know to trust their Daddies, and that means asking if it's time for them to hurt and whimper and cry. If it's not, I'll tell you, all right?"

It was...all backwards, really, but Xander was looking up with those fathomless dark eyes, and Spike could almost see something solidify in their depths. Like giving Xander permission to ask -- that meant something.

Xander stared at Spike for a long time. Finally, he said, "Okay," and felt the tension that had coiled inside his chest loosen. Okay. He'd said okay to letting Spike make those types of decisions for him. Whether he should hurt or not, whether he could come or not. Xander was giving that to Spike. "Okay," he said again, starting to feel slightly dazed.

"Can I come now," Xander said, adding (because he knew Spike liked it), "Daddy?" He was still curled up against Spike's front, and his cock was nestled against Spike's belly. He thrust forward, just a little, to rub himself right there. "Hurts," he said, letting some of the pleasure of the slight friction wash over him. "Want to feel good."

Though his erection had flagged a little under the harsh spray and during their talk, Xander could still feel that slight desperation to come.

The idea that the boy's cock still hurt made Spike frown, but they'd tackle that later. The feeling of relaxation, of acceptance, when Xander said okay was a damn good first step, as far as Spike was concerned. Then again, "I sometimes think you don't know what pain means," Spike murmured into black, water-heavy hair. "You feel heavy, full, and wanting, so you think it's pain. Because you've been taught to see it as pain."

Spike had felt some camaraderie towards Anya before this. Now? Now all he wanted to do was pulverize her for warping such a pretty gift as Xander was. An eager, submissive boy all for her taking, and she managed to confuse and hurt him without any real benefit.

It was disrespectful. Contemptuous.

Didn't stop Spike from getting hard, though.

"Suck me off," he murmured, pushing Xander to his knees. The shoulders under his palms flexed, but Xander went willingly enough, nosing into Spike's groin and lapping at his cock before gingerly sucking him in. "There, pet, that's good. Concentrate on getting Daddy off, on tasting him in your cocksucking mouth, and then Daddy'll frig your pretty clit."

Xander moaned. He didn't know why Spike's words always made him tingle, but they did. He'd never sucked anyone before Spike, and yesterday it had seemed scary at first, but now it felt comfortable and sort of comforting.

He close his eyes and concentrated on Spike and the feel of him against Xander's tongue. He was silky smooth and tasted a little bitter, but not much. It reminded him of something but he didn't know what.

Using his tongue, he massaged the underside of Spike's cock, humming happily when his technique produced a few drops of pre-come. He liked that he could please Spike, that he could make him feel as good as Xander wanted to feel.

His own cock, he wasn't sure if he was supposed to always think of it as a clit now, thickened even further, pulsing lightly against his thigh. He curbed the reflex to reach down and stroke himself.

Normally, Spike preferred slow, leisurely blowjobs, the kind that left jaws aching when they weren't numb. It was easy to close his eyes, cup Xander's head and absently guide him, rubbing his cheeks where the head sometimes poked so both of them got a thrill, and forget about the world a bit. Just the hot, eager mouth that grew more confident as Xander figured out how to please him, the contented sucking and harsh breathing of a born cocksucker learning just how sweet it was.

And Xander was a born cocksucker, Spike was sure of that. A born slut. A born submissive, wanting to give pleasure with his body to whoever took it.

"Bet you'd turn such a pretty trick," Spike murmured, rubbing Xander's lip with his thumbnail. "Bet you'd love it if I spread your legs, let so many slide in and out of your sweet cunny, have them call you pretty and tell you how lovely you are, how sweet a pet you'd make. But I won't, pet. Not ever. I don't share my toys," well, not unless they demanded it, Spike thought with a moue of displeasure; Drusilla had enjoyed her variety. "Don't want anyone touching what's mine, but oh, pet, I'm sure you'd make such an excellent, happy whore..."

Xander sucked harder and more frantically as Spike's description unfolded. Spike let him, enjoying the way the boy wanted him to come, wanted him to fill that mouth with what it desired most. So he touched his own sac, unsurprised when Xander's hand immediately came up, cupping and sliding back to rub hard right behind -- and Spike came with a soft grunt.

"C'mere," he said, feeling soft and sated as Xander stood up, licking shiny lips with eyes gone black as a night's sky. "C'mere, girl, there's a good pet, let Daddy touch you, let him make you feel so good." Spike slicked his hand with shampoo just in case, pulling tight but not fast, milking Xander's cock while the boy snuffled and whimpered into his shoulder. "There, girl, come on, come for Daddy. Such a good girl, that's it. Daddy wants to taste your juices, hear you cry out as you come hard and sweet, there, girl, that's it, doing so good..."

Xander's hips stuttered forward, his body shifting and straining for release. He whimpered, letting the overwhelming sensations fill him.

"Daddy," he moaned, needing to say something, needing to let the words spill out. "Please. So hard. Need to come. Good. So good. Be good for you." Spike's words kept flitting through his head. The idea that Spike could use him like that was both thrilling and scary. He didn't want other people, not really, but the idea of it made Xander ache down deep in the pit of his belly. "Your whore. Only yours."

Spike kissed the shell of his ear, the side of his neck, making Xander feel cared for even as his body erupted in orgasm, every muscle tightening and shaking.

Spike gentled Xander through the orgasm, keeping it sweet and light, humming softly as Xander moaned like a dying thing, harsh and gasping as he finally came.

That was... wrong. It shouldn't be so rough on him. Orgasm could hurt, sure, sometimes and it wasn't like the transition was ever easy. Bodies just didn't work that way. But it shouldn't have left the boy shuddering like it did, shaking like he was a bloody leaf in a thunderstorm, lost and desperate with it.

"There, pet, that's a good girl. Shhh, that's good, good girl." Certain that Xander was sated, finally, and loose with it, Spike gently pushed him onto his own feet. "Wash us both, there's a good girl. Gonna have you cooking and cleaning too, but that's for later. Right now you get to touch me all over, pet, go on."

Xander felt... glowy. He was warm all over, mostly from the praise. He loved that Spike thought he was good, that Spike touched him with something that felt a lot like tenderness.

"Your smooth all over," Xander said as he ran soapy hands all over Spike's body. He stopped to play with Spike's nipples, liking the contrast of the hard nubs against his palms. The more he touched Spike, the calmer he felt. He didn't know why, but maybe it had something to do with the soft words that Spike kept repeating in his ear and the soft kisses that accompanied them.

Strange how much like Drusilla he was. Oh, in many ways she was even less broken, lost in a childish world that wasn't right, but at least made a bizarre amount of sense. Spike had always been able to understand her, control her to a point.

Xander wasn't much different. Just as childlike, just as controllable and, like he'd thought, Xander loved doing for others. Normally that was Spike role, the way he'd tended to Dru's body since she wasn't able to do for herself. But Xander was blissful as he soaped Spike up, washing him with something akin to reverence, with a funny little smile. Spike kept up his words, whispering secrets under the pelting water, while Xander... worshiped him.

And grew calmer for it.

When they were finally rinsed off and clean Xander gave the most adorable pout and Spike just had to kiss him, soft against his mouth. "Such a sweet girl, pet. Did such a good job, gettin' us both squeaky clean. All right, out with you before the water turns cold. Dry us off."

Any tension that might've built melted away as Xander realized he still had things to do, the pout gone as he picked up a towel and just as carefully dried Spike off before working on himself.

It was. Nice. Spike wasn't often taken care of, given he'd had Drusilla around. So he let his hands trail over whatever bits of Xander that presented themselves as they dried, and then as Xander dressed Spike back into his clothes: boxers and jeans and black t-shirt. "Not the jacket, pet. It's light out, and I've got a long afternoon nap to take soon. And you have work, pet. Call 'em up, say you're running late and you'll be in around lunch time. Go on, go do it."

"Yes, daddy," Xander said without thinking. He was relieved to not have to make the decision himself. He felt like he should be annoyed or angry at Spike for taking over, but instead he liked it. Lately it felt like every decision was more of a burden. So, he was glad to let Spike shoulder some of them, or maybe all of them.

Xander felt vaguely guilty when he called in. His boss was surprised, he could tell by the tone of his voice, and it made Xander feel even worse. He'd been careful with this job, he really liked it. He tried hard not to miss days or call in late because of late night patrolling or anything like that. But even though he felt guilt, he also felt satisfaction because it meant that his boss hadn't expected it from him, and he sounded more worried for Xander than anything else.

"Okay, well, if you're not feeling well, we could do without you for one day Xander," Chris said and Xander found himself smiling at the phone.

"No, no. I'm good, Chris. I just am running late, you know." Xander was crap at lying, so he didn't make up any excuses, just told Chris exactly what Spike had told him to say. "I'll be in as soon as I can, probably around lunch time."

"Okay, great. Just get here when you can."

"Thanks," Xander said, still smiling as he hung up the phone.

"What are you smiling at, pet?" Spike asked, with an amused look.

"Chris likes me," Xander said with a shrug.

He could mention that Spike could hear both sides of the conversation, and that Chris did more than just 'like' Xander. In a fond way, really, but Spike was more interested in Xander's reactions than Chris'. The boy had completely missed the reassurance, attributing the surprise on the wrong end of the bloody spectrum.

If he couldn't be useful, then he couldn't be worth it.

And that was damn older than one naughty slayer or a demon with issues.

"Get yourself dressed, girl, then make us breakfast. You'll have to pick up more blood for me while you're out today. Can you do that?"

"Yeah," Xander said as he absently rooted through the fridge. "Willy's right?" Xander didn't know any place else to get human blood. "Are eggs okay? Or, I think there's some milk left if you want cereal?" Xander didn't think he'd ever seen Spike eat breakfast so he wasn't sure what Spike liked. "Oh, and I can make toast!"

Spike raised an eyebrow. Didn't need a mirror to practice that look, and Xander wilted in under not-quite a second. "Cereal's fine. Something not sugary. Where's it at, this cupboard?" Spike opened a blonde wood cabinet to discover that yes, that was where the boy housed his cereal. Sugary, sugary, really sugary and he was bloody well tossing that nonsense out once the boy left. Sorting through brightly colored boxes that proclaimed hyperactive hell to any mother foolish enough to purchase them, Spike found a plain white and red box in the back. Special K. It'd do.

Taking it to the table, Spike watched as a naked Xander heated up Spike's blood and busied himself pouring out a bowl of cereal for himself. The Special K. Because a glance towards those other cereals had Spike glaring again, and Xander was nothing if not trainable.

Was now too early to spring how he wanted Xander to eat, on occasion? Spike glanced at the floor -- yes. He didn't fancy Xander sitting up to find his palms and knees gritty with dirt that'd only get on Spike and annoy him. So, cleaning was in his future too, but Xander had to know that already.

They both ate quietly. It was still early, only just nine or so, and Spike listened to the rev of cars as normal, working schlubs trundled off to work in their boring, bland lives.

Reaching out absently, Spike caressed Xander's cheek, giving him a finger to suck on before rubbing over his mouth the way an owner might fondle a pup's ears. "Good girl," he praised, sipping his blood with the other hand. Xander had stopped chewing, staring blank-eyed and fixed as Spike touched him. "Such a good pet."

Xander flushed, feeling some of his earlier pleasure return. He could tell from the way Spike reacted that he hadn't been happy with Xander's choices for breakfast, and why that should bother Xander, he didn't know. But he didn't like the idea of disappointing Spike.

He wasn't even sure why Spike cared considering that he didn't even need to eat breakfast. Xander had, had blood for him at least.

When Spike's finger swiped absently over his lip again, Xander couldn't help closing his eyes and sticking his tongue out for another brief taste.

Chuckling, Spike let his finger slip back in, sipping his blood idly while the boy suckled. It was suckling, too, the same mindless, pleasure-rich devotion of a tot after milk or a bit of affection. It looked good on him, too: the way his skin grew golden-pink, the dark arch of his eyelashes against his cheek, hair trembling just a touch as he vibrated his pleasure...

"You're doing just fine, you know," Spike said, swapping forefinger for thumb. More comfortable. "I know this is hard, little one, and confusing, but you're all right. You're learning quick and when you get back this afternoon, we'll have another lesson. Teach you another way in which to please me, some other thing you could be good at for me. All right?" Lazily, Spike dragged the pad of his thumb over Xander's teeth, creating an odd sensation that would go down to the boy's toes, then pushing it in deeply enough that almost, almost the boy choked.

Or at least, he should have. But Xander just took it, sighing happily while his mouth was fucked.

Pretty.

"Good girl," Spike crooned, carefully putting down his blood so he could draw Xander nearer, chair screeching too loudly as he was dragged closer. Sitting on laps was right out, not if Xander was going to get to work like Spike wanted him too. But still -- Spike could pet, long, sweeping motions over heavy muscle while he murmured endearments, curling the boy towards him like a child, almost cuddling despite the vaguely sexual nature of the touches. "There, pet, relaxed now? Such a pretty, pretty toy for Daddy to play with." Slow, and quiet, so not to disturb him too much, Spike added, "Now, go on, clean up a bit and get dressed, there's a good girl."

Xander followed orders without really thinking about it. He'd liked the way Spike had petted him and whispered, voice soft and low and soothing.

It wasn't until Xander got to his closet that he really started thinking again. He pulled out jeans because that was basically the standard uniform, right? But, then he spent a long time trying to decide what shirt to wear. He never really cared much, especially when his mother was still buying his clothes. He'd pretty much just put on whatever was clean.

But, as stupid as it sounded, he wanted to look good for Spike. He liked that Spike thought he was good looking... beautiful, even.

He put on a plain white undershirt first, then reached for the red checkered button up. But, then decided on the blue instead.

Willow had told him once that he looked good in it.

He ran his fingers through his hair and then decided to find a brush, taking time to work on his one or two cowlicks.

It was only when he was down to the dregs, staring at them moodily, that he realized Xander had been gone for a fair amount of time. "Pet?"

One heart beat raced in answer, Xander's breathing speeding up in counterpoint.

Spike frowned and rinsed out his cup -- dried blood was disgusting even to him -- wondering what the hell had gone wrong this time.

"I'm -- I'm coming," Xander called out, squeaky and nervous.

For what, for work? For putting on clothes around Spike? That was a pretty answer, and a very wrong one, Spike was certain. He'd been told to wear clothes, so the happily entranced boy would put on clothes without a qualm. Spike was positive that level of obedience had been established, especially since it wasn't all that far off from the boy's norm.

So what the hell?

A tense swallow had Spike turning around to take in... Xander. In what passed for nice clothes for the boy -- nothing with holes, a good color -- standing in a position that could only be called presentation: arms back so his chest thrust out, his head trying to duck no matter how hard he yanked it back up, eyes skittering from Spike and then off again, nearly frantic.

Ohhhhh.

Hiding his smirk, Spike made a good show of circling his pet, tugging and straightening the way he'd done for Dru countless times while she pouted about not having a mirror, aware that there was something achingly paternal about an older, wiser bloke making certain that a nervous, callow boy looked adult enough to pass.

When he was done, Spike leaned forward and kissed Xander until the boy was moaning in the back of his throat, pleasantly flushed and pretty with it. "Trying to impress me, pretty girl?" Spike purred, careful to keep his hands away from clothes so painstakingly picked out. "Well, you have. A nice, grown up dress for a girl about to make her way in the world." And then, just because he was cruel, Spike leaned down to bite Xander's lower lip. "We'll have to see about getting you some more playful frocks too, pet. Some baby-dolls, maybe, or crotchless panties so your pretty, hungry cunt is on display for whenever I choose to use it. You'll like that, I know, little slut. Maybe I'll even make you wear panties to work."

Xander just stared at him.

Grinning, Spike chucked his chin. In a normal voice, he said, "Right, then. Off to work, make lots of lovely money for me to spend, and then to market afterwards. Go on, pet, there you go."

Xander was hard off and on all day. Every time he thought of Spike making him wear panties under his jeans... He imagined the way they'd feel, silky smooth compared to the rough denim. And the idea of crotchless... or whatever, so that Xander would be open, ready all the time.

He thought about going into one of the porta-potties to take care of his hard-on, but besides the disgusting factor, he knew that Spike wouldn't like it. That he didn't have permission.

And that just made him harder, made him leak into his shorts.

God.

He hoped none of the guys knew what he was blushing about all day.

Spike slept like, well, the dead.

Normally he didn't. Living in a crypt wasn't the safest of venues, particularly when a tiny blond Slayer who regularly wanted to kill you knew where you were and that daylight hours were a good chance to sneak up on a poor, innocent vampire unawares. So Spike usually slept as lightly as possible.

He didn't need the sleep, after all.

But having it... he stretched, luxurious against 300 thread-count sheets, over a mattress that was actually quite good. Anya's choice, probably, and she'd left it with the boy. Lucky Spike. The apartment was cool against the spring sun's heat, pleasantly dark and cozy and Spike... slept.

For hours.

It was really lovely.

Of course, because Xander did his best to blend into the woodwork, he didn't. And worse yet, it was his foreman, Chris who notice him.

"Hey Xander," Chris said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You sure you're feeling okay? You look a little flushed."

"I'm fine," Xander said, barely stopping himself from stuttering. "Thanks." At least his erection had gone down again, but just thinking about it made Xander flush even harder. Xander fidgeted nervously when Chris just continued to stare him, studying him, Xander supposed, for illnesses. "I'm really sorry I was late," he blurted.

Chris laughed. "Xander, you're one of my best guys. Don't worry about it."

"Really?" Xander said, surprised.

"Yeah," Chris said, his expression a mix of indulgence and incredulity. "In fact," he said, resting his hand on Xander's shoulder again and squeezing lightly. "Why don't you head home early. Get some rest."

"Oh, uhm, thanks," Xander said, feeling ridiculously pleased and guilty at the same time. It was nice to know that Chris thought of him so highly, but at the same time he felt guilty that he wasn't really sick. And he felt vaguely uncomfortable at the familiar way that Chris was suddenly touching him. Did Chris somehow know what Xander had spent all night (and most of the morning) doing? Did he somehow sense how that Xander he become, or maybe always was, the slut that Spike had called him?

Except that Xander wasn't just any slut. He was Spike's.

He gave Chris a tentative smile, then sidled away, just far enough to lose Chris' hand. "I really appreciate it. I could, uhm, use the rest," he waved at Chris. "I guess, I'll see you tomorrow then."

Chris gave Xander a grin he couldn't quite decipher, then waved back. "See you."

Xander hurried out, anxious to get to Willy's for Spike's blood and then get home.

Spike woke with the sun low and straining in the sky. For a long time he just lay there, watching the way it moved through obfuscating blinds, a heavy, dark circle that slipped further and further off into the distance. Taunting him. Tormenting him, even this weak, thin spring version of summer's blasting heat.

Spike watched until his eyes burned.

"Aren't I a right sod," he muttered, eventually, pushing himself onto his feet and doing a right prowl around the apartment. Xander wasn't very adept at hiding what he held most precious, but Anya had been. It left a curious mix of the kind of tricks and crooks Spike was used to, and the rest of it spread out for all the world to see, if they'd just look the right way.

The porn stash was useful. Spike flipped through magazines of pretty, slick-bodied men; Xander probably bought these for Anya, never understanding just how much he enjoyed them, as well. The toys were a delicious bit of treasure, since Spike had every intention of using most of them, then adding. A few of them were downright kinky, too, including a few butt-plugs obviously never used and a glass dildo that was almost beautiful, a twisted blue waterfall of color held in suspended animation, frozen at the perfect place.

Oh, that'd look so pretty in his pet's cunt.

The other things Spike found weren't as exciting, but no less important. Tax documents Spike spent a good half hour reading, learning that Xander was worth a whole lot more than he appeared thanks to some savvy investing on his and Anya's part, and a great deal of hard work he was well compensated for. Old credit card receipts were a lovely find -- Spike could catalog how much booze the boy bought (it spiked in stages and wasn't that going to change; Spike needed his pet's liver intact) the occasional drugs he or Anya indulged in (probably Anya, given the time frame) the secret purchases for comics (stashed behind Xander's stinky shoes, and kept there despite Anya's leaving) and other things a growing boy needed.

Spike was just thinking of the shopping trip he was going to have to arrange, partly online but partly not, when the scratch of a key sounded in the doorway.

Instantly, he was on his feet, creeping towards the door out of line-of-sight, wishing he had a bloody baseball bat, or something he could swing and hurt with. Xander wasn't to be home for a few more hours...

"Hello? Spike?" Dark, tumbling hair appeared first, Xander looking around curiously and a little nervously.

Xander. Home. Carrying a heavy bag full of groceries and if Spike's nose didn't deceive him, the distinctive scent of frozen blood.

Spike had no idea why Xander was home so early and refused to worry like a fisherwife about the whys and wherefores. He just stepped forward, taking the bags from Xander so he could lean in for a long, lusciously soft kiss, cupping the boy's face and his hip, holding him while Xander melted against him, as sweet as a girl meeting her true beloved after months apart.

When air became an issue, Xander's lungs straining too much, Spike broke off with a sharp nip to his lower lip: he had to keep mixing pain with pleasure, training Xander to see anything that came from him as a reward. "Someone's back early," he said softly.

"Chris," Xander said, blushing. "Uhm, let me leave early. Said I looked tired." Which wasn't exactly a lie. He'd said Xander had looked flushed, but he also said that Xander looked like he needed rest, which was the same thing, right? Xander was still a little dazed from Spike's kiss. He liked the way Spike left his lips feeling... tingly. He licked them, then brought his fingers up to touch his swollen lower lip without thinking.

"Oh," he said, remembering what he'd brought home. "I got your blood like you asked. Oh, and regular groceries, too, you know if you wanted me to make dinner or something." Xander suddenly felt shy, he didn't know why. He wanted to impress Spike, to make him see that Xander was... worth it, something. His shoulders slumped a little. Sometimes, when he really thought about it, he realized how needy he sounded and it made him feel a little pathetic. But, then he couldn't help adding, "I'm a good cook." And he was, too, when there were groceries in the house. Anya had liked to go out to eat, so they hadn't kept much at home.

The combination of scents rising up from Xander would give a lesser vampire whiplash. Spike wasn't good at reading emotions through his nose, not like Dru or even Darla had been, but after close to twenty four hours in Xander's home, he was starting to strain out the unimportant, though tantalizing, smell of boy and sex and life and starting to catch the nuances underneath.

"'Sure you are," he agreed, scooping up one of the bags and heading towards the kitchen. "Come show me your arcane arrangements of where things go." Not that he hadn't puzzled that out, yet. But it made Xander feel good to show Spike where things went. Made him feel better to have things put away, proper-like, and that was an interesting bouquet to sniff. Nice, though.

Once they had all the goodies tucked into their niches, Spike took Xander's hand and led him towards the living room. It was a bright, cheerful place even with the blinds securely covering the windows, and Spike wanted to use that in his favor. "Now, then, little slut. I told you there'd be a lesson when you got home and this is the first. Unless I tell you otherwise, you're not to be clothed around me." He didn't add, So strip, just sat down with an expectant look on his face.

Xander took just a moment to take in Spike's words, then he jerked to attention. "Oh." He felt nervous again, being naked in front of Spike for the first time outside of the aroused kind of state he'd been in last night and this morning. Not that he wasn't aroused, because lately just being around Spike excited Xander, but he wasn't *aroused*.

Now, he just felt like he was going to be on display. And Xander wasn't exactly proud of his body, not after all the jokes and teasing he'd been given by the jocks and people like Cordy. At least before she'd actually admitted to being attracted to him. But Xander had always attributed that attraction more to his personality, as girly as that sounded.

His fingers shook as he unbutton his shirt and pulled it off. He looked around, not sure where to put it, so he just tossed it onto the recliner situated near the couch Spike was sitting on. His undershirt followed quickly, as did his belt.

It didn't take long until he was fully naked, standing in front of Spike completely exposed.

Xander fought the urge to curl in on himself and hide.

Such a pretty pet. Spike knew he should keep his expression blank, to wall himself off from what he knew -- knew and feared and wanted and hated -- from happening. He just couldn't help it. Xander was all grown up, really, with broad shoulders and a chest just dotted with the right amount of curl, heavy muscles underneath flexing and contracting nervously.

"Come here," Spike said. Xander moved jerkily, nervous, but Spike didn't mind. Soon, he'd arch his back with pleasure just from Spike looking at him, enjoying the way his body was held on display.

Time to start that.

Spike kept his touches slow, imbued with a kind of possessive worship that had Xander shivering, eyes wide and dark as his body was examined. No part of him was kept hidden, not the shadows behind his ears, or the hollows around his knees. Everything was touched and examined, coated with Spike's touch, with an invisible mark that Spike would always see.

Maybe Xander would, too.

"Pretty girl," Spike murmured, kissing along Xander's hips because he couldn't help himself -- salt and honest sweat was just as intoxicating as fear. "Such a pretty, pretty girl. Tell me what you're feeling."

"I..." Xander never knew what to say to that, he'd spent so much time always hiding the way he felt to everybody, especially the girls. He hated feeling like the outside, like the one who didn't belong. But he never wanted them to know that. "I like you touching me," Xander said, starting to feel breathless again. "Don't want you to stop."

Spike let his chuckle vibrate through the boy's belly, licking over his belly-button just to be annoying. "I don't want to stop. I like touching you, love, like how smooth your skin is, how pretty you are when you stand there at attention, letting me look over my new toy." Nipping his stomach was easy; so was tugging on the dark trail that headed south with his teeth. It made a lovely flush mark. Standing up allowed Spike to handle Xander's head, his hair and ears and eyes and teeth, just like a horse's. He didn't want to be too brusque, but any time Xander flinched or tried to back away instinctively, Spike controlled it with an iron-hard grip. "Hey, now, no pulling away, little girl. Your body is mine to do whatever I want with. Isn't that right?"

"Yes," he said, feeling awkward and a little embarrassed. "Sorry."

Spike purred against Xander's ear, kissing the shell. "What's to be sorry for, love?"

"I just," Xander said, waving between them. "You're so... and I'm." He gestured at himself and frowned. "I didn't mean to pull away. I like it. I do."

"I'm so what, hm?" Spike purred, kissing Xander slowly and thoroughly -- an examination of sorts -- before going back to catalog the boy's neck, twisting his head this way and that just because he could. "Don't mind you pulling away, pet, at least for a little. You're still new, yet, still too young and too untrained. That's because you're just a little girl, aren't you? A baby who doesn't know any better. Need to rely on me to know what you should be doing, still. You'll learn to love this, pet, just like you should."

And Xander, who's eyes were half-closed with pleasure, murmured, "Yes, Daddy," all unprompted.

Mmm. Wasn't that a nice treat.

Spike kissed him again, rewarding, then slapped his buttocks three times in succession, completely unsurprised when Xander went wide-eyed and hard. Chuckling, Spike pecked him a final time. "Right, pet. It's late enough that supper should be soon. You mentioned something about cooking?"

"Yes," Xander said, feeling hot all over. "We could do something quick, like burgers, or I got some steaks, and stuff for homemade pizza." Xander didn't realize he was talking a little faster than normal, but he was a little excited to show off his cooking to Spike. Even though Spike didn't have to eat, Xander knew he liked to, and that's what mattered. "What do you want?"

He tried to ignore his erection as he led Spike back into the kitchen.

"Burgers," because Spike liked burgers. That, and he wanted to see just how complicated Xander would take this, whether he was too interested in impressing Spike or if he'd make sure he was settled with his likes, too.

Turned out a little of both.

"Put on an apron," Spike cautioned when Xander started heating the griddle. The boy's erection had started to flag as he rolled out the meat into patties, but he didn't want any part of his pet scalded over something stupid.

Candles, now...

Xander came back from the closet flushed as pink as the monstrosity he wore. "It's Anya's," he hissed.

Spike just laughed, long and loud, tugging Xander closer to him for a kiss. "Makes you look like the pretty girl you are."

Xander still didn't understand why Spike wanted him to be a girl, but now every time he said the words they made Xander's stomach flutter. He leaned in for another kiss, not sure whether Spike would let him or not, but hummed happily when he did.

"Okay," he said, smiling now. "Let me guess. Rare, right?"

Spike chuckled and that made Xander's smile grow even wider.

He could still feel a low thrum of arousal humming through his body, but it more a pleasant background sensation than anything else.

Dinner turned out to be a decent affair. Xander set out plates and cutlery that didn't look like it came second or third hand, providing a bevy of condiments to go with the sides he arranged. And the burgers were perfect.

So was the blood Xander heated and poured into a cup for Spike, to sip while Xander had water.

Interesting. The idea that Xander was domestic -- and domesticated -- was an odd one, given what Spike knew of his relationship with the girls. But perhaps that wasn't a way to look at Xander. Someone who craved a home, maybe, someone who would've been better with zombies for parents... that made more sense.

Xander cleaned up without a questioning glance, either, just doing it like it was natural.

Afterwards, Spike took his hand and led him towards the sofa, sprawling down on it and tucking Xander over him like he wasn't bigger nor heavier. Spike was a vampire: he made it work. "Now, then, pet. I found that box underneath the floorboards."

"You did?" Xander squeaked. He didn't think he could get any redder than he'd been earlier while on display, but he somehow managed it. "You, uh, mean Anya's box?" he said, trying to deflect.

Spike gave him a look from beneath his lashes, letting Xander know that Spike didn't believe that Anya was the only one to use the things found in that hidey-hole. Even though most of the toys were new, and Anya had never been able to convince Xander to use even half of them.

Xander had looked, though, after Anya had left. He'd looked and imagined and tried not to think about them hidden there beneath the floorboards while he slept.

Spike had his arm over the back of the sofa, canted up with a smirk dancing across his mouth. Xander looked so adorably confused, flustered and humiliated. Really, it was sniffing the just-opened bottle of a nicely aged whiskey. All that goodness just wafting up. "No," he corrected, "I mean you're box. You kept it, after all. And I don't smell her on most of those lovely toys and gadgets you'd bought."

All right, mostly they'd smelled of plastic. But Spike didn't need to have Xander know that. And, anyway, it was really just logical: any of those that Anya really liked, she would've taken with her.

Xander was starting to hyperventilate a little as he contemplated just how 'outed' he was. Pretty pretty.

"Kneel," Spike commanded softly. Xander dropped without even thinking about it, too lost in his own frantic humiliation, allowing his body to be tugged towards Spike, his head now resting on Spike's knee. He had nice, soft hair, did Xander. Spike liked playing with it. "Do you think I'm upset? Is that why you're turning redder than an ecstasy bloke? D'you think that I don't like what I've found? Or is it the confirmation you don't like. Me finding out your deep, dark secret that you're really a pretty girl just aching for a Daddy to hold her and have her and fuck her slick and senseless. Except oh, wait a minute! I already knew that."

Xander turned, rubbing his cheek against Spike's knee. He felt hot, embarrassment flooding him. He didn't know why. Spike was right. What was the big deal, after all? After everything they'd done last night, and the way Xander responded to Spike, who cared?

But, somehow none of that mattered.

No one had ever *known* before. He hadn't even really acknowledged it himself.

"I don't know, Daddy," Xander said, hesitantly. He tried to concentrate on the feel of Spike's fingers running through his hair. It felt nice. Soft touches that left Xander feeling warm and cared for.

"Don't know, or don't want to know? Oh, don't look at me like that, little whore. It's all right, you're not knowing. It's a hard thing for a boy to realize that all he wants is to kneel and server at his chosen master's feet." Or a master who'd chosen him, more likely. Xander was made to be grabbed and kept. "S'hard for a pretty boy to realize that he's really a she, nothing like what he thought he was for so many years." Gently, Spike stroked Xander's face, enjoying the burning flush there. "What are you, pretty slut, hm? Who are you."

Xander opened his mouth to say something like yours or other rot; probably verging on romantic. Or at least as romantic as this one ever got. But instead he turned down-right crimson, face throbbing as his heart rose up to fill his cheeks, and he said, "Girl. I'm -- I'm a girl. Your girl."

Spike leaned forward for a slow kiss, thoughtfully taking the boy's mouth. "There, now," he crooned. "Doesn't that feel better? No more hiding, no more lying. Just you, pet, being the bitch of a sex-toy you are."

"Yes," Xander said, breathless. He was still flushed, but embarrassment was turning quickly into arousal. "Yes, daddy." He rubbed his cheek against Spike again, wanting to give him whatever affection he could in this position.

"Are we," Xander said, swallowing against the anxiety that started to creep up. "Are we going to play with some of the toys today?" He remembered the thick glass dildo and felt his cock jerk. It had been really pretty, he remembered staring at it for hours one day after Anya had left. He'd been surprised she hadn't taken it with her. But he also remember how thick it had felt in his hand.

"Do you want to play with them?" It was an unnecessary question, given Xander's eagerly filling cock, but he said it just because, idly slapping Xander across the face. His head moved and then snapped right back, still wearing that adoring, humiliated expression. Mm.

It was like he didn't care there was a lovely red handprint on his cheek. He was far too busy biting his lower lip and saying, "Yes. I didn't -- I've never -- "

"Used them, I know. Vamp nose, remember? You've always been too scared, haven't you, wanting the pretty toys and never knowing just how best to play with them." Anya probably tried to guilt him, to pressure him and manipulate him into obedience. Silly chit never just ordered it. "Go and pick out an assortment for me. Whichever ones you want to try most."

It was the most cruel thing he'd said or done all day, that.

Xander frowned, then quickly wiped the expression off his face. The box was just a few feet away, so h knee-walked, rather than standing.

He reached in, and shifted the items inside, wondering what Spike wanted him to choose. He chose one of the vibrating plugs first, because he'd always wondered how that would feel and the size didn't intimidate him too much. He traced the length of the glass dildo, but decided against it this time. He was still a little afraid of it, no matter how much it captured his interest.

There were some silk scarves that Xander had always imagined tied tight around his wrists. He hadn't been able to trust Anya, though, because he'd been worried she would use the opportunity to force him to try things he wasn't ready for. Lastly, he chose a small set of clamps that were practically hidden at the bottom of the box. These ones, he had used before. Just once. And they'd made his nipples so sensitive that after he'd released them, he'd come after just one stroke of his cock.

He knee-walked back to Spike with all the toys hugged close to his chest.

Spike accepted his tribute regally, trying not to do a gleeful shimmy when he saw the clamps. "Up," he commanded, pleased when Xander immediately straightened on his knees and accepted the clamps tightened almost haphazardly around his nipples without even a flinch.

Spike made sure they were tight.

"I love your tits," Spike said, tugging the clamps lightly. "Gonna get them pierced, probably, bits of jewelry to glitter at me. You'd like that, wouldn't you? What girl doesn't like pretty jewelry on her skin."

Xander moaned at the first tug on the clamps. It sent a zing of pleasure/pain through him that had him biting his bottom lip. He was leaking already, the tip of his cock wet with his own juices as Spike tweaked and teased. The idea of Spike piercing him, of having rings or jewels or anything there for Spike to tug and pull and play with made Xander a little crazy. He whimpered and nodded.

"Of course you would, a silly bint like you. Gold, probably, to match your skin tone." Spike drew his nails along Xander's pecs, adding red-white lines. "Oh, but you like this, don't you, pet? Wetting all over your thighs like that," even if it was maybe more his belly, still, "squirming like you've an itch you want scratched. We'll do that, won't we, there's a pretty cunt. Get on the sofa, pet, on your back with your legs in the air."

Thankfully, Xander had remembered to bring lube along with the toys. As much as Spike would love to just shove... well, that probably wasn't ever going to happen, humans being what they were. Maybe in a few years, though. Instead, he slicked the toy and pressed it to the boy's entrance, working just the tip in and out until the boy looked wide-eyed and desperate with lust.

"Shhh, pet, it's all right. You can make noise, there's a good baby. Daddy wants to tease you, now."

"Please," Xander whined, holding his legs open for Spike. The tip of the plug was thick, Xander supposed so that it would pop out too easily. Spike's in and out motion made Xander's ass, his pussy, burn, but in such a good way. "T-turn it on, daddy, please?" Xander asked, staring up at Spike as he continued to fuck Xander with the toy. He'd always wanted to try it, always wanted to see how those vibrations would feel inside of him. He tightened his grip on his thighs, worried that if he didn't concentrate on keeping himself open, he'd be reaching for his cock instead, already desperate to get off.

Chuckling low and cruel, Spike said, "No, not yet." And the proceeded to really fuck the boy with it, pushing the thickened tip in and then pulling it back out in a move that probably had to hurt. Xander, though, didn't show any evidence of true pain. He was too busy gasping and writhing and sweating salt and musk.

"Pretty," Spike murmured, leaning down to kiss the sweat-heavy hair at Xander's temple. "Such a pretty freak, a cunt for me to fill and fuck and use. That's it, baby, take it, I want you to. Want to see you split open and broken just 'cause I want you to be, your belly and thighs smeared with want you won't feel till I tell you to. 'M gonna whip you, baby, gonna make your arse pretty and hot so when I fuck you, oh, it'll burn us both, and you'll love it, won't you, you stupid, greedy slut? You'll whine and creel and beg for it, happily desperate because this is what you're made for. This is what you love.

"This is who you love."

And Spike flicked the vibrator on high.

"Daddy," Xander said in a high whine. His whole body vibrated with need, the sensation of the plug searing through him like fire. "Yes. Want. Want it. Please. Anything. Fuck me, daddy. Use my pussy. Love. Love it. Love you," Xander babbled, disjointed words that made sense in his own mind. "Come?" he begged. "Can I come, daddy?" He reached down, but not to stroke himself off. Instead he wrapped his fingers around the base, trying to stave off the orgasm until he had permission. When Spike leaned down again, Xander turned his face, capturing his lips. He needed to taste his daddy, needed to feel him, feel loved.

A ring, Spike thought hazily, they definitely needed to buy a ring. But that was for later. For now, Spike just pushed, slamming the plug all the way inside of Xander while they kissed frantically, hot and sloppy everywhere, while Spike batted Xander's hand away with his suddenly free hands and stroked over Xander's clit two, three times. "Come, baby, all over."

Xander went crazy.

It was almost five minutes later that Xander calmed enough to breathe normally, looking up at Spike with utterly adoring eyes. Spike smiled kindly and pushed as his head, angling the pliant boy towards his naked, come covered chest. "Clean me up."

Xander opened his mouth obediently, and licked at the first drops he could reach. He felt... sort of dazed with happiness. He just felt so damned good.

He took his time, dropping kisses all along Spike's chest as he went.

He didn't realize he was humming until Spike laughed softly, and ruffled his hair. "Pretty boy. So happy to be daddy's obedient little slut."

"Mmm," Xander said, swallowing. "Am daddy. Feel so good." His body was still humming with pleasure, like a low thrum of electricity heating every part of him.

Spike reached down -- and wasn't it nice that Xander helpfully coiled himself so that his arse was in reach? -- and flicked at the plug, pushing it and turning it to a medium level at the same time. He had to stop touching Xander so much, particularly stroking his soft, thick hair. It felt too good, that. It could give Spike notions and he just wasn't prepared to deal with those.

"There," he murmured, soft and welcoming despite the thoughts in the back of his mind, watching as Xander licked up droplets that had slide down to the waist of his jeans. "Undo my pants, now, pet, and show me what you've learned. Show me how good you feel when Daddy's cock is down your throat."

Xander didn't say a word, just opened Spike's pants and pulled him free. He stroked him once, twice, staring intently as a bubble of pre-come escaped the tip. He smiled, loving the feel of daddy's cock in his hand. Then Xander took him in his mouth, licking the tip first to get the taste of him.

He closed his eyes, savoring the taste and feel of daddy inside him.

The angle was a little awkward, but Xander made it work. Each time he bobbed up and down, he went a little further, taking Spike as far as he could before he began to choke. As he sucked, he reached down to cup Spike's balls, massaging them gently, the way he'd liked it whenAnya had occasionally sucked him.

Sighing contentedly, Spike settled back comfortably against the couch. That's what he needed. A hot, eager pet to suck him for as long as Spike demanded, a slut that enjoying the mechanics of the blow job as much as the idea of pleasing his brand-new master.

Perfect.

One hand rested heavily on the back of Xander's shoulders, nearly at the base of his neck. It was a domestic pose, really, especially after Spike picked up the remote and turned on the telly. It was easy, Xander making snuffling sounds in contrast to the slurping noises and the sometimes-frantic huffing of his own breathing, his body relaxed and content with a cock in his mouth and a plug in his arse.

Spike pet him the way he would a cat. "Good cocksucker," he praised during commercials, ignoring Xander (or, well, pretending to) the rest of the time. "There's no rush, pet. I like them nice and slow and long. You can do that, can't you? I know you can. Your brilliant at this, born to have your mouth and your cunny filled to bursting. There's a good bitch."

He wasn't even hard, Spike knew with glee that had auras of amazement. This wasn't about his sexual pleasure, although Spike had no doubts the boy enjoyed it that way. It was just... good. Pleasing.

Unlife really didn't get better.

Xander preened under Spike's praise. He felt himself swell up with pride. He could do it. He could. And he loved making Spike happy, loved the way Spike whispered sweet words, and petted him, and made Xander feel warm and loved and... possessed. Like he belonged somewhere, belonged to someone.

Every once in a while Xander would release Spike, partly to give his jaw a break, but also so that he could lick at the sensitive underside of Spike's cock. He liked to use the tip of his tongue to tease him, just under the head, because it would make Spike moan, sometimes gasp softly. His fingers would tighten in Xander's hair, too. It made Xander feel *wonderful*.

When Spike realized he was halfway through a program he couldn't remember the beginning of and was starting to, just maybe, pant a little bit, he gripped the back of Xander's head and pull him off. "S'enough," he said, ruefully unsurprised to hear himself rasp. "Unless you don't want me to fuck you. Want me down your throat instead?"

For just a second Xander was torn. He loved the feel of Spike's cock in his mouth, liked the bitter taste of him, and the way it felt to be the one who made Spike moan and gasp like that. But then the insistent buzz of the plug, low and steady, made him realize how much he longed to have his daddy inside him there.

"Fuck me, daddy. Use your pussy," Xander said, rolling so that he could open himself fully. "Am I a pretty cunt for you, daddy?" he asked, starting to feel breathless and achy again.

Jesus. It wasn't like this was the goal, but really, it was just a day. Not quite twenty four hours, and here Xander was naked, and hard, with a plug up his bum and clips distending his nipples, asking Spike to fuck him, to use his pretty cunt. That the words were an echo wasn't even the problem.

"Bed," Spike ordered. "Want the covers all stripped off and you on your knees, facing the headboard."

He had to get some control and -- that's how. Lifting up the bundle of silk scarves, Spike followed along a more sedate pace.

It was no surprise that the bed was made for bondage. He doubted Anya would have anything else. Still, it was a sight that awaited him, Xander sweat-flushed and wanting, his muscles distended into perfect relief while he waited, eager and rigid but mostly eager, facing the wall with a hopeful expression and a hard dick.

It was really stunning.

Spike tied the ones at the foot of the bed first, so Xander would see him. Sliding up, he circled each ankle, massaging lightly, before knotting the cool silk. He wasn't even sure Xander understood what was going on, the boy too busy making happy whimpering noises.

"Bend, pet," he ordered. "Like your prostrating yourself, pretty pussy in the air."

Xander couldn't control his breathing anymore. He thought he might hyperventilate and pass out soon. The excitement, the anticipation was driving him insane. The silk felt as cool and perfect as he imagined it would. It was even better with Spike because Xander could just let everything happen. He didn't know why, but he trusted Spike, he didn't have any of the fears that always held him back with Anya.

For one flash of a second, Xander felt the worry and pain that would come if, when, Spike decided he'd had enough. When he got bored and left.

But, then arousal and Spike's soft words against his ear, "My pretty, pretty girl," pushed all those feelings aside.

Xander was bent over, face buried against the mattress as Spike finished tying the scarves around his wrists. He tugged experimentally, his cock throbbing when he felt how tightly he'd been secured.

"Let's see how flexible you are." With hands that were absolutely not shaking, Spike tugged on Xander's arse, prompting him to straighten his thighs so that his arse was raise in the air. It wasn't a comfortable position and Spike didn't give a tinker's damn. He wanted Xander uncomfortable and exposed and grateful to be both. "Good girl," he praised, reaching for the plug. He fucked it in and out of Xander, forcing him a little bit wider, before carelessly taking it out.

Xander moaned. Not cried out, not whimpered or sniveled or anything like that. He moaned like he welcomed that pain right along with the promise of Spike's cock in his cunt.

"Try not to move," Spike bit out and then shoved all the way in.

Xander bit down on his bottom lip, drawing blood as he locked all his muscles in an effort to obey. It was so hard, though, because all he wanted to do was thrust back, to writhe on daddy's cock. And the brush of silk against his skin was only driving him even crazier.

He wanted to tug, to instinctively break free, and the fact that he couldn't, that he couldn't even try was such a fucking turn on.

"Daddy," Xander moaned, wanting so badly that the word came out more as a sob than anything else.

Spike breathed shakily. He should wait more, he knew. Give this pet that was still nearly a virgin time to adjust and get used to his not-insubstantial girth.

He held on for approximately half a second before saying fuck it and just fucked.

Hard. Ferociously was a term that could be applied. Spike fucked brutally into Xander's waiting, willing pussy, not caring if he wasn't quite so willing as Spike didn't bother searching for a prostate, didn't bother trying to make it good for Xander. Xander was irrelevant, other than a hole that Spike could fuck. And oh, he did, until he was sweating -- hard, for a vampire, moaning as he forced Xander flat on the bed, the better to fuck and mouth the back of his neck at the same time. He was crazy with it, burning up with the need to get off, to brand himself in Xander's ass to make sure that this boy was his, only his, just his alone...

When he came it was damned near painful, the kind of release that usually took weeks to build up.

And when he finally collapsed, panting and licking his lips, he tasted blood.

Xander couldn't speak. He moaned incoherently, writhing against the bed as he rubbed himself on the mattress. He was dying, dying to come. He was full of daddy's come, and Xander could feel a distinct sting that he knew meant that daddy had taken a taste, had taken him in a way that made Xander feel absolutely owned.

He knew the noises he was making weren't really words, but he was thinking as loud as he could, *Please, please let me come. Want to come. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.*

It was the frantic squeezing around his cock that finally pulled him out of his stupor. Licking his lips again -- Christ, that really was blood -- Spike worked his cock in and out of his pet's pussy a few times, enjoying the over sensitized feel of it, before worming a hand underneath and finding the remaining clamp. He squeezed his fingers around it -- Xander gave a short, hoarse scream -- then plucked it off. "Come," he slurred, and moaned as Xander clenched so tightly around him that Spike felt a second orgasm bubble its way through, blue-touched and glistening behind his eyes.

"Mm," he said and pushed his face into the back of Xander's neck, licking idly like a cat that needed to taste. "Such a beautiful, perverted, perfect bitch," he slurred, crooning and completely out of his mind with pleasure. "Never lettin' go of you, you know, not ever. Gonna serve me'n'my cock all your life. Be so full of my spunk and my needs... pretty slut. My pretty slut."

"Yes, please," Xander said hoarsely, barely audible. He was crying, he wanted that so badly. Wanted to believe that Spike wasn't ever going to leave him, or kick him out, or just get tired of him. He felt just like the little girl Spike kept telling him he was. Vulnerable and desperate. He rubbed his face against the mattress, wiping at his tears.

He was exhausted, too. He felt like every bit of his strength had just shot out of him.

"Yes, please, daddy," Xander said again, mostly to himself before he finally passed out.

Spike woke up ravenous, wondering why his back ached, and utterly confused as to where he was. He had vague memories of -- oh. Right. The boy's apartment.

And the boy himself, sleeping despite the awkward, cramped position of having his limbs tied, his arse full, and his body held down by sleeping vampire. Carefully, Spike reached out to smudge a bit of glistening warmth from his mouth. He looked softer, when he slept. More like the young child he actually was, still searching so desperately for a place to be.

And now he was Spike's.

Taking advantage of the boy's slumber, he leaned down and whispered, "Don't get hard. Understand me, pet? You don't get hard. Say it."

And despite being asleep -- Spike could hear the rem-cycle -- Xander murmured, "Uh uh. Not hard.

Spike could've crowed. "Good girl," he whispered and started moving, pushing his cock in and out of Xander's sweet, come-full ass. It wasn't precisely fucking, not with Spike just barely half-hard, but the more he pushed, the harder he got. "This is what you're pussy's for," he breathed, pushing onto his forearms as he screwed himself hard and eager again. "Whether you're awake or not, hard or not, you love this, don't you, pretty? You love your Daddy fucking your hungry cunny, using you exactly as you want to be. You're mine to fuck, Xander. You're a sex-toy, a blow-up doll, and I'll use you whenever and however I like. And you'll love it, love how good I make you feel, s'cept that's irrelevant. All that matters is that you're available, toy, and ready for anything."

Xander woke gradually the sound of daddy's voice. He was already repeating the words before he even realized what they were. "Love it. Do. Make me feel so good. Yours. Your toy. Your pussy. So hungry for daddy's cock." Xander pushed back, not because he was hard, because strangely he wasn't, but because he knew it would make daddy's cock feel better.

"Gonna make you ride me, soon," he grunted, now fully hard inside of his pet. "Gonna lay down like some king or emperor, let you climb up and fuck yourself on my cock, fill up your pussy with my come just from bouncing up and down while I do nothing." Because sometimes, Spike was lazy. "Gonna push you down when you least expect it, fuck your face until you're sticky and dripping with it, maybe send you outside and you won't say a word, will you, girl? No, because you're mine. You're mine to use and take and hurt and oh, pet, I want to hurt you. Want to spank you raw, use a switch on your pretty bum, then fuck you after so it hurts so bad you want more." Dazed with sleep and lust, Spike hitched himself back -- enjoying the way Xander rolled his hips automatically, fucking so Spike had something tight and warm and full of friction -- reaching around to pinch Xander's nipple hard, twisting it in a way that was painful, not pleasurable. "Moan, bitch," he ordered, fucking harder. "Love it, pet, love it when I hurt you, when I treat you like the submissive, pain-hungry bitch you are. Tell me it feels good and mean it."

Hurt. God it hurt, but the fact that Spike was the one making it hurt, that it was daddy, made it good, too. Xander moaned.

"Yes, please. Good. Daddy's so good to me," Xander said, massaging Spike's cock with his pussy. He hurt, really, really hurt, but at the same time he wondered why he wasn't hard. Because the pain sent zings of pleasure through him, especially when Spike leaned down and licked along his nape, teeth scraping against Xander's skin. "Please," he said, not sure what he was begging for anymore.

Growling with contented pleasure, certain of Xander's sincerity because he could smell the pain and pleasure, Spike felt his fangs appear out of nowhere biting down around the top vertebrae. He didn't bite hard, really, too busy coming hard enough he saw stars, just enough to wet his lips with blood while Xander made noises that could've been screaming.

Eventually, Spike went limp, falling onto the boy. "Good girl. That's a good slut, taking your Daddy's come and letting him hurt you like that. Good, pet. Go back to sleep. Daddy wants to sleep and he likes it in your soft, warm pussy..."

"Yes, daddy," Xander said automatically, letting his eyes flutter closed. "Like you inside me like this, daddy. So good." Xander was still exhausted, having only woken to please daddy. His arms and legs hurt from being tied down so long, but Xander didn't care. It felt too good to be covered by daddy's body, to feel so full and warm. Sleep came quickly.

When Spike finally yawned back into awareness it was to whimpering.

Which, well, was a bit odd. Sure, he'd gone harder on Xander for the first time since this all started. Sure, his own body was pleasantly zinging from sex that left his cock sore and a little raw, muscles happily sore, and his mouth still tacky with Xander's dried blood on his teeth.

But whimpering? His pretty pet had loved every damn second of what Spike had done. Of that he was absolutely certain. So why the hell...

Pushing back slowly, Spike let his eyes take in the room, and then swallowed back a curse. Of course Xander was fucking whimpering. He should be glad the idiot child wasn't screaming, or yelling, or otherwise asking Spike to untie him and let blood back into his limbs!

"Idiot," Spike mumbled, his voice low. Xander was still mostly asleep, and Spike didn't want to wake him, not yet. "No, shhh, sleep," he murmured, voice low and soothing-lullaby soft as he carefully slipped out the knots binding each of Xander's limbs. They were going to have to work out some kind of system, obviously, because while the idea of leaving Xander chained and bound the whole night through was wildly appealing, Spike could see hints of blue at the boy's finger tips and that was just asking for trouble, really. If Xander lost body parts, or the use their off, there'd be questions from coworkers and friends, both of which would make Spike's new, suddenly comfortable existence a thing of the past.

Keeping up his soft murmuring, Spike began working Xander's hands and feet, arms and legs, chaffing them gently until the low, steady whimpering started tapering off, the tightness around his eyes starting to relax into truer sleep.

"Such a sod. Not you, pet, me. I can say this only because you're too asleep to hear it. But I am. Should be downright gleeful you went and slept so heavy you didn't even wake from the pain, just accepted it like your due. Since it is your due. But here I am fussing about you, making sure you're not damaged. Because I am a sorry fuck of a sod."

Red numerals glowed across the room. Spike had about an hour before the boy had to get up for his poncy job.

So he slid back under the covers, slid Xander back into his arms, and let the boy's steady heartbeat lull him into sleep.

Xander woke slowly, feeling warm and coddled. He sighed, cuddling closer to Spike whose arms were wrapped tight around Xander. He knew that the alarm was going to go off any minute, his body clock usually woke him just ahead of time, and he wanted to enjoy this for as long as possible.

He remembered the way he'd woken yesterday, and the contrast of it made him dizzy for a moment. But Xander couldn't deny that he'd enjoyed everything they'd done yesterday... and the day before. He couldn't deny that he'd loved it. But he especially liked the moments when Spike stopped to soothe him or take care of him.

Like now.

He smiled, and without realizing it started dropping random kisses across Spike's chest until he reached one of Spike's nipples. He took it in, closing his eyes as he laved and suckled it.

"Regressing, are we? No, no, not a complaint, pet. Just an observation. You keep on doing what makes you feel good." Which, not so coincidentally, made Spike feel good, too. Xander's hair was nice to stroke, softer after a night's sleep and clinging to his fingers the way Dru's had, sometimes, in curled tufts that he could tug and play with. It was nice, really. Just lying here with a heart-warmed body keeping him toasty, a heart-beat for a lullaby and a pretty, pliant pet who would arch up like a kitten to be touched just a little bit more.

He particularly liked when he stroked over Xander's shoulders and the boy rose up to meet him, eager and willing, while he suckled.

And it was suckling.

"Think I was truer than I guessed when I called you a little girl, wasn't I?" Spike murmured, soft and reflective. The words were mostly for himself, anyway. "You're not getting breakfast out of there. Although if you nip like that again, you might get it from somewhere else."

Xander tingled all over with Spike's soft praise and the fleeting touches. He didn't know why it felt so good to feel like a... pet, or a nearly helpless child. It's just that Xander felt like he'd been taking care of himself his whole life. His dad never bothered with him, and his mom had tried but she'd usually been too drunk to really do more than remember to buy him a shirt from the bargain bin every now and then. He doesn't even remember the last time she'd made him something to eat.

Not like the way Spike had yesterday. He hadn't bothered to tell Spike that the reason he was such a good cook was because he'd had to learn or starve.

He nipped at Spike, because how could he not after being teased with the offer of more?

"Oh, so that's how it is! Bad girl," he said, mechanically flat just in case; Xander had shown a frightening insistence to take everything the wrong bloody way, and Spike was enjoying himself. He didn't want another freak out to deal with. "Such a bad girl, in fact, that she's going to have to work for her breakfast."

Spike spread his hand wide and pushed at Xander's head, angling him down (while the boy spilled over with kisses and laughter that was a wee bit too close to giggling) towards Spike's cock, which was helpfully hard and waiting. Putting thumb and forefinger into Xander's mouth, he forced that open and tugged. "Here, cocksucker. Perform for your breakfast."

Some days, long long ago, Spike had played this game with Dru, had positioned her like the dolly she'd escaped into being, listening to her giggle and hum as she sucked Spike off, enjoying the taste of blood filtered through him, the knights of greenery with their weapons of choice, she'd always said. It was easy to do the same here, to treat Xander like a pretty dolly who was his for him to care for and fuck.

And other things, too, but it was only the bloody third day. There were such things as getting way ahead of himself.

Xander hummed eagerly and appreciatively. He was starting to think that Spike had been right when he'd said was a born cocksucker, because he really, really enjoyed it. It wasn't so much the taste or feel of being filled, though he did like that, but the way it made him feel to know that he was the one giving Spike that kind of pleasure.

The other times, when Spike was fucking him, even though Xander *loved* those times, it was more like Spike was taking his pleasure. But this way, with Xander's mouth on Spike's cock, his tongue teasing all the sensitive spots, Xander knew it was all him. Even, if, when, Spike decided to fuck his mouth, to use Xander like the fucktoy that Spike kept calling him, it still felt... special to Xander. He didn't know why.

He just felt... happy with Spike's cock in his mouth.

And he was learning how to really take him, proud to be able to take three-quarters of Spike's shaft already.

Spike let his eyes slide shut, enjoying the way Xander was eagerly going at it. Stroking the back of his neck caused the boy to shiver, so he did that a lot. He was trying not to thrust into Xander's mouth, allowing him to set pace and rhythm and, well, it was just all worth it, wasn't it? Xander was humming with pleasure, going at it like the born cocksucker Spike had pegged him as, the true submissive who wanted nothing more than to please his partner.

And unlike some that found blow jobs a power trip, Spike just didn't get that vibe. Or at least not that kind of a power trip, anyway.

"Pretty girl. Love how red your mouth is, apples and rubies and stretched all around me." Spike toyed with the healing scab at the back of Xander's neck, rubbing it until it hurt. Xander's eyes flew wide at the first touch, staring up at Spike in surprise, but he didn't stop. No, not this eager boy. He kept sucking, bobbing and eager on Spike's cock, just watching as Spike rubbed and scratched -- just a little -- to remind Xander that if he wanted, he could bite. He could bite. "Don't get hard, pet, not yet, understand? Want you to stay nice and soft for me, just like a sweet girl. You'll come, pretty slut, that I promise but right now isn't about that. Just suck, enjoy the feel of me on your tongue, the taste of me in the back of your throat. There's a good cocksucker."

Xander hadn't even realized he *wasn't* hard yet. It felt good to suck Spike, almost as good as having Spike fill his pussy, so he was surprised that he hadn't gotten hard. But he was happy to obey, and just went back to concentrating on Spike and the noises of pleasure he made and the sweet scratch of his nails against Xander's nape.

He went as far as he could, tonguing the bottom of Spike's cock as he felt the head press against his throat. Closing his eyes briefly, Xander took as deep a breath as he could through his nose, then tilted his head just enough and pushed. He felt the head slip down further, and he stopped, breathing shallow now, and trying not to panic at the feel of it.

Spike felt his own lungs stutter and go still as his precious, eager little pet tried his best to deep throat Spike. After maybe two or three blowjobs. And it felt, god, good, with that tight, frantic heat that closed tight and perfect and all Spike wanted to do was lift up his hips and fuck, to batter into that willing throat and show Xander what it felt like, teach him how to accept the pain until it stopped hurting and Spike could just slide right in, fucking his throat until he came right into his gullet...

But that was later.

Gasping, chest heaving, Spike tugged on the edges of Xander's hair, helping him ease off. Praise bubbled over, effusive and continuous, because Xander's eyes were two dark question marks, eager for praise and reassurance. "There, little girl, pretty girl, with her perfect, cock-sucking mouth, cherry red and tart. That's it, baby, doing just fine. Want me to go back in, now? Want Daddy to fill your throat the way he fills your pussy, taking what's rightfully his? Want Daddy to come like this, right down your throat?" As he spoke, he kept his hands busy, stroking the boy's hot forehead, his wet, messy cheeks, stroking over a throat that was scratchy and soft, paying special, careful attention to the Adam's apple that bobbed so instinctively under his touch.

Xander closed his eyes, arching his neck against Spike's touches.

"Yes, daddy, please," Xander said, feeling every inch the needy, hungry girl his daddy said he was. "Want to taste you. Want you filling your girl's belly with your come. So hungry for it," he whined.

He opened his eyes, expecting take daddy's cock again, already opening his mouth, eager and desperate for it.

But instead, daddy's mouth closed over his, kissing him with a combination of hunger and tenderness. His hands were clasped around Xander's face, holding him steady, caressing Xander's cheeks and jaw with his thumbs. Xander melted into it, so happy, and feeling so loved that he whimpered at the sensation.

And then daddy was gone, pressing him down, his hard cock weeping at the tip as Xander swallowed him again.

"Fuck, yes," Spike hissed. He was trying to be careful, honest, exerting as much control as he was able as he thrust up into Xander's mouth. Didn't want him put off of this, not now after all.

And Xander, Xander just took it, moaning and gasping and choking occasionally but soldiering on through to swallow convulsively over the tip. Spike had his hands buried in dark hair, by now, holding Xander very, very still as he was taken and fucked and fucking used --

Spike came with a low, guttural grunt of pleasure, fountaining into Xander's eager mouth.

Xander's gut clenched with need and pleasure and love as daddy came down his throat. Even though the angle was crazy, Xander kept his eyes open so he could watch as much of daddy's face as he could, reveling in the pleasure he saw there.

He lapped and swallowed and sucked, but even so, some of the come dribbled out of his mouth and down his chin. Even though a part of him wanted to go after it, he didn't release daddy's cock. Just kept suckling until daddy's moans turned to soft sighs, and the hand in his hair stopped moving. Daddy's fingers curled against his scalp instead, and for some reason, just that made Xander shiver.

"Good girl. Did you like your breakfast, baby?"

Xander's eyes were so huge, black from lust his body wasn't mirroring, staring up at Spike like he held the answers to life and everything else. Without releasing Spike's cock, somehow he managed to sort of nod his head. "Uh huh."

Laughing, Spike tugged on the fringe held between his fingers. "Little slut, look at you. A cock in your mouth, come all over your face... just gorgeous, you are. Wish I could send you out like this, painted in all my colors. Keep you naked so everyone could see what a pretty they'll never have."

Oh, Xander liked that, if the shiver he gave was anything to go by. He began to suck again, mindless and comforting. Occasionally, his tongue would swipe out to lick at a bit of sliding come.

"That's enough, now, girl. I know you love your Daddy's cock, but you need to clean your face." Spike made sure his gaze was just the tiniest bit mocking. "Not with soap, now."

Xander pulled off, confusion marring his face. Then he flashed back to the other day, when Spike had come on his face, massaged the thick fluid into Xander's skin. "Oh," he said, then blushed when Spike chuckled. He ran his finger along the edge of his jaw, scooping up some of the come that he hadn't been able to swallow. Then he slowly rubbed it against his cheek, eyes never leaving his daddy's.

He felt hot, the first tinglings of arousal shooting down to his clit at the way daddy was watching him. He tried to suppress it, tried to keep from getting hard. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of Spike's come all over him, then whimpered when he felt the blood pulsing, throbbing in his clit.

It was so easy to reach out, tugging Xander so the boy straddled his hips, pretty arse settled squarely over Spike's softened cock. "Are you wet, baby? You are, aren't you, sopping and hot, your cunny so eager now that you've got Daddy's come painted all over your pretty skin. Let me feel you, girl, thrust out that wet, thick clit of yours, let me feel it."

There was no hesitation when Xander immediately rocked his hips forward, moaning softly when Spike ran his hand up and down the shaft. Did he think of it as a clit, now? Spike wondered just how deep the conditioning was going, but there was really no way to tell. Like this, Xander would say whatever he thought Spike wanted from him, frantically changing it if he thought he was wrong.

But oh, he hoped his pet did. To have Xander think of himself as girl, to really know he was nothing but a body for Spike to use...

Thumbing over the leaking head, Spike scored his nail below the flare, right along the bundle of nerves there. "Rock your pussy along Daddy's cock, pet. Let me feel how wet you are, how you drip like a faucet just from having me near you." He began to stroke, not quite tight enough for a quick orgasm, but he didn't want to draw this one out. Xander had work, after all, and Spike had things he needed to do today. "Come on, baby. Tell Daddy what an eager, slutty bitch you are, getting wet on fucking command if I want it."

"Daddy," Xander whimpered, thrusting almost frantically. Now that he had permission, his arousal spiraled through him, building and building. "Yours, daddy. Your slut. Do anything, anything daddy wants." Xander's pussy was clenching and unclenching, empty and wanting. "So wet for you, daddy. Always want you," Xander said, panting now. He leaned forward, pressing his hands against daddy's chest as he rode him. "Can I come, daddy? Can your eager, slutty bitch come?"

"Will you clean up your mess if you do?"

Xander's eyes widened, staring at the chest he braced himself on.

Spike took that for a 'yes' and began to stroke him off in earnest. "That's it, baby. Let Daddy frig your clit, let him do this for you. You've been so good, baby, staying soft and small while you make yourself feel so good. So now Daddy's going to take care of you, let you feel sated, so you'll be a good, obedient bitch. Because that's what you are, baby, a pretty toy, that's it. Stop moving your hips, baby, let Daddy take care of you."

And, amazingly, Xander did. His body went heavy and slow, tiny jerks almost like shocks of electricity the only real movements he made. Spike sped up, rewarding Xander, and pushed up on an elbow, somehow getting the timing right and kissing Xander square on the mouth as he began to come in hot, wet swathes.

"There's my girl," Spike crooned, kissing Xander's mouth over and over. "Feel better, don't you? Good girl, letting Daddy take care of you." Xander made a soft, whimpering noise and scrunched down, starting to lap at Spike's white-dotted chest. "Such a good girl."

"Daddy's so good to me," Xander murmured, kissing and licking all over daddy's chest. "Takes good care of his girl, his slutty, slutty girl." There was one thick blob of come on Daddy's nipple and it made Xander smile. Leaning in so that he was draped over daddy's body, resting atop him, Xander closed his mouth over the nipple and suckled, loving the feel of daddy's nipple in his mouth as come slid down his throat.

"Oral fixation," Spike whispered, taunting, because really, Xander was just a walking, upright example of it. Put something in his mouth and he turned to putty.

Useful, that.

Eventually, though, Spike got them up and into the shower. Xander again did most of the work, although Spike made a point of washing the boy's back and pussy, massaging his arse while he stood and whimpered in the back of his throat. Fun times, that.

Afterward, Spike poured the boy out a real breakfast and made sure he ate it before allowing him to get dressed and shuffling him out the door. "Oh," he called on the way. "Leave your credit card, will you, pet? Need to do some shopping."

Xander turned around, slipping his wallet from his back pocket. He handed Spike his credit card and got a long, wet kiss in return. His whole body tingled from it as Spike could closed the front door behind him. He wondered briefly what Spike was going to buy, but then shrugged his shoulders and checked his watch, hurrying his step a little so as not to be late for work again. Chris liked him, sure, but Xander didn't want to be known as irresponsible or worse, as someone who took advantage of favoritism.

Small. It fit nicely in the palm of his hand, all gleaming and black with silver-gilt print. A lovely little toy.

His, all his.

Spike grinned like a maniac and did a little dance.

And then he booted up Xander's computer. Finding the passwords and such was ridiculously easy, as Spike had memorized most of them ages ago, so he checked the balances online -- decent; Xander was a bit of a spend-thrift, it seemed -- and then started making his purchases.

First up: a special stock of frozen human blood, delivered to his doorstep.

Then he got more creative.

Surprisingly, Xander didn't have much trouble concentrating at work. He actually liked the physical labor, it kept his mind off other things, and it felt good to stretch and work his muscles. He was still a little sore from having been tied up so long, though he hadn't realized it until he'd gotten to work. As he sweat and worked and stretched his muscles, his body loosened and Xander got into a rhythm that didn't break until the lunch whistle blew.

Xander grinned, cheeks flushing with happiness when he opened his lunch bag. Usually he threw in a peanut butter sandwich and a bag of chips if he had time, sometimes he wouldn't even bother and just grab a few dollars for the roach coach. But today, Spike had made his lunch, which left Xander feeling warmed all over.

There was a bottle of juice, instead of Xander's usual coke and the sandwich was a thick roast beef with lettuce and tomatoes and a slab of cheddar cheese. And instead of a bag of chips there was an apple. Xander had to smile. It seemed like Spike was trying to get Xander to eat healthier meals, and the thought made him feel so good, that he didn't mind that Spike hadn't put any mayonnaise in his sandwich the way he normally liked.

The card was just starting to feel pleasantly warm from use.

Online shopping was a vampire's best friend. No more finding idiotic and usually dangerous blokes -- who always wanted to stiff you, if they weren't pissing themselves in fear -- to do whatever shopping that was needed. Of course, Spike hadn't actually shopped a lot, while a vampire. Smash-and-grab was more his speed. But fraud was damn easy with a credit card, and sending it through the mail was too easy to resist. A few lessons with Red had helped Spike become very proficient with computers; he patted the sleek little laptop Xander owned with a proprietary hand.

It hummed happily in response.

Certain that his purchases were all ship-shape and ready to go, Spike absently headed into the kitchen to make himself blood with a lot of potato chips in it. "Need groceries," he said, studying Xander's cupboards critically. It wasn't like the boy was living on scrapes, but his tastes ran a lot sweeter than Spike preferred. "Gotta make sure she keeps her figure, after all," he snickered.

Around two, Spike went back to the bedroom and stretched out. He knew he was sleeping a lot, but that wasn't a problem, yet. Vampires always slept more heavily in places they felt secure, places newly claimed as their own. A way of ensuring the claim would pass a sniff-test.

Inhaling the remains of his and Xander's orgasms, Spike smiled into the blankets. Even humans could probably smell this. Lovely stuff, hormones.

Imagining what the scoobies would say if they showed up, Spike drifted off for an afternoon nap.

It was almost quitting time, and Xander began to imagine what was waiting for him at home. He thought about what Spike might want for dinner, whether Spike would fuck him first, maybe the second he walked in the door, up against the wall or something... mmmm, Xander's body began to hum with anticipation. Or, if he'd want to eat first.

He wondered again what Spike might be buying with his credit card, realizing that since it was daylight he must be shopping online. Then he blushed, hoping that Spike hadn't found the link to a few of the sites he'd tried the last couple of weeks. He remembered the first time he'd jerked off while watching one of those amateur gay videos. The guys had just looked so... well, they just really looked like they enjoyed it. Nothing like most of the porn Xander had seen before.

The first one he'd seen had been amazing. The bottom had really, really enjoyed it. He'd squirmed and whimpered, and desperately ground himself on the top's cock. Xander had gone red all over, but he'd gone hard in an instant, too.

And now he knew how that bottom felt. Knew what it was like to have a thick cock inside him, pressing that button, making him squirm and cry and groan.

Xander was flushed and sweating, by the time he grabbed his jacket and headed for the car. He hoped that the rest of the guys just assumed he'd been working hard the last hour of the day.

Excitement built as he drove home, until he remembered that there was supposed to be a scooby meeting that night. Checking his watch he realized they had about two and a half hours before they had to be there.

The smell was tantalizing, a delicate waft of hormones and musk, simmering with just the right amount of heat. Stretched out on the sofa, Spike waited until Xander had the door closed, his keys tossed on their customary table, before saying, "Crawl to me, pet."

Xander shivered hard enough that his bones seemed to clack.

Pretty. So very pretty, this boy who gave himself to Spike with a sigh of pleasure and belonging. He dropped down to his knees with a sweet sigh of pleasure, crawling on hands and knees from the doorway to where Spike reclined. Spike had been in porn-films that were less hot than his current reality.

Once Xander was close enough, Spike cupped a hand 'round the back of his neck and leaned him in so that his mouth and nose rested on the seam above Spike's cock. "Breathe, nice and slow, baby," he instructed. "I bet you had a hard day at work, didn't you? All manly and muscley. It must be so difficult, baby, pretending to be a big, strapping man when you're not. You're just a little girl, pet, a silly little girl."

"Yes, daddy," Xander said, already breathless with need. He inhaled sharply, feeling his body tighten. Oddly, though, he felt relaxed, too. Like he was home.

Xander kept breathing, pressing back once in awhile against the hand cradling his head, and then lightly rubbing his cheek against Spike's inner thigh. He loved this position, because he felt practically surrounded by Spike. And that always felt good.

He wanted to open his mouth over the bulge in Spike's pants. Wanted to mouth him until Spike commanded he take his cock in, hard and smooth and dripping with arousal. But Spike hadn't given permission yet. So, he just closed his eyes and kept breathing him in.

Lust rose up in waves, crashing and receding as Xander melted where he knelt. He was so easy to manipulate, this boy, and Spike couldn't help but delight in how Xander seemed to throb with willingness. The sofa wasn't really the right height for this, which meant Xander was leaning awkwardly, and the silly brat didn't even realize it. Just kept his face against Spike's cock, rubbing his cheek against it absently, a cat who needed scratches.

"Have you learned to love the taste of denim yet?"

It wasn't a very obvious question, but Xander flushed a nice, beautifully warm shade of red as he began to kiss and mouth along the denims, searching out Spike's cock and focusing on that. His breath was furnace-hot, jungle warm, his tongue a flicker of promise Spike had to work hard not to arch up into. Xander clearly wasn't paying attention. His mind was off. And yet his mouth, his lips and tongue and mm, "Good girl," teeth were still eagerly seeing to Spike's needs.

Xander felt everything inside loosen when Spike had given tacit permission to mouth his cock. It was like he'd been waiting on the edge, filled with a kind of eager tension. And now he could let all that loose and just concentrate on Spike's cock and hearing him make all those lovely sounds as Xander mouthed him.

Experimentally, since there was thick denim between them, Xander used his teeth to scrape along the hard shaft he could feel beneath Spike's jeans. Spike made this soft, half-whimper, half-moan that thrilled Xander. So he did it again. And again.

Then he laid his mouth over the same spot, and just sucked. Letting his breath and some of his saliva soak into the black fabric. He could really use his tongue to any good purpose, so he just kept using his teeth and closing his lips over certain spots, using his jaw muscles to apply a kind of massage that had Spike eventually rocking up to meet his ministrations. Not thrusting, just a slight rocking. Xander didn't even think Spike realized he was doing it. And that excited Xander even more. That he could drive Spike to that.

"Sweet cocksucker," Spike breathed. "Gettin' good, aren't you. Eager to learn all the best ways to please a man. Could sell you, pet. Make a fortune on the open market with a mouth like yours, pretty black eyes... " Spike reached down, careful not to disturb Xander's mouth, and rubbed at the corner of Xander's left eye. "I'll see them filled with tears, later. I can't wait to see you cry for me, baby girl, to whimper and moan. Maybe I'll sell tickets, hm? Wouldn't let them touch you, not really, but to watch, to see how good you are knowing they can't touch..." A brief archipelago of teeth made Spike hiss and rock, pushing his demin-covered cock more firmly into Xander's mouth. "Sweet, perfect little bitch, so good. Gonna switch you later, I think. Send you out with red welts on your ass."

There was some method to his rambling. Not much, granted, but Spike did have something resembling a plan. Xander tended to bliss out when he was like this, as if he was only barely conscious of the world around him. Add in the litany of soft words and praises that Spike had used so effectively before, and it was easier to introduce foreign concepts.

Like the concept of Xander bleeding for Spike's pleasure.

Xander moaned around his mouthful. Not so much at Spike's words, but the tone in his voice. He knew that tone. It left him feeling shivery and hot.

And even though Xander's jaw started to ache a little, he kept going, imagining that he could do this all day if Spike asked him to. He wasn't hard, remembering this morning when Spike had asked him to wait, but his body felt as if it had that pins and needles sensation all over. Good, but almost too much. Almost.

Spike ran his hands all over Xander's neck and cheeks, playing with his hair before tugging at his shirt collar. "Take this off, baby. Daddy wants to see your pretty titties." Xander jerked back guilty, quickly skinning out of his shirt and replacing his mouth over the same dark, wet spot before it had a chance to even slightly dry. "There, that's better. Don't flush on me, girl, didn't hardly give you a chance to strip off before asking you to come here, did I? That's the thing about rules, love. I'll change them, remake them, use 'em against you. For you, pretty slut, because you like them used like this. You want to know what to do, be a sweet baby girl who listens to her Daddy, a very good girl indeed."

By now, Spike had one of Xander's nipple in a tight grip, pinching and pulling it away from his body like it was barely even attached. Xander kept shivering under the torment, but his cock stayed nice and soft, his breathing fast, so Spike wasn't worried. Not yet, anyway. "Enough, pet. Take off your trousers and then spread out over my lap."

Xander jumped up and quickly stripped off his jeans, feeling a little unhappy that he'd forgotten one of the only rules Spike had given him so far, even though Spike had absolved him.

Then, he stared down at Spike's lap and wondered what exactly Spike meant by "spread". Was he supposed to straddle Spike? That didn't seem right because Spike would have just said that. Spike was just waiting and watching him, and Xander decided to just take a guess, even though he remembered something about Spike saying he could ask questions if he needed to. Or maybe that had been that Xander should speak up when he was hurting? The last few days were such a jumble, but all Xander knew was that he felt good and protected, kind of cherished, though that word made Xander blush, when he was with Spike.

He stepped forward, and laid himself over Spike's lap on his stomach, arms dangling on one side of Spike's lap and his legs on the other.

"There's a good girl," Spike murmured. Xander's back was broad and well muscled and Spike didn't bother trying to stop himself: he just reached out and rubbed along that sun-warmed skin, inhaling the scent of human male, and work, and sex. God, Xander smelled incredible, always. Chocolate cake and steak with all the trimmings, a cup of blood on the side.

Xander moaned softly as he was worked on, relaxing despite the awkward position.

Which meant he was completely off guard when Spike walloped him hard on the ass.

"Ouch!" Xander cried out without thinking, then immediately cringed. "S-sorry, daddy," he said, knowing it had been the wrong response. His clit was pressed up against daddy's lap, and Xander was surprised to feel it twitch as the sting from daddy's slap turned his skin tingly.

"Hm." So, spanking wasn't the turn-on he'd expected it to be. Interesting, given Xander had pretty much melted the last time...

Ah. Timing was everything for this one, apparently.

"Right, let's try this again. C'mere, up here so you're sitting on my lap." Xander was eager to do that, scrambling around like a kid promised ice cream for good behavior, eyes wide and puppy-bright as he cuddled up close. "I know, pet, you're so very confused. But that's all right. Just do as Daddy wants you do," he said, which meant not one bloody thing, really, but it'd nicely confuse the boy.

Especially when Spike kissed him, sweet and slow, summer day lazy, while he reached between helpfully spread legs, cupping and tugging on Xander's sac. Would he call it a labia, maybe? Something. Couldn't be balls, since little girls like Xander certainly didn't have those.

Although Xander certainly enjoyed it, given the way he hissed and melted into the kiss, mewling contentedly.

Oh, god. Xander could practically feel the blood pumping through his veins, here the thrum and beat of it as arousal shot through him. "Yes, daddy," he said, squirming as daddy kissed him, wanting more of daddy's touches, his sweet, hot words. Daddy's fingers were teasing him, driving him crazy. He wanted to spread himself wide, to whimper and moan until daddy pressed inside of him.

"Forgot your lessons already? That's a naughty pet, being so forgetful." Xander stiffened at the accusation, mouth opening to protest. Spike nipped it shut, hard. "It's all right. I know you're still very new, very young, so I'll remind you. I'll remind you later, when you forget again." Xander's balls were silky-smooth to the touch. Spike cupped them gently, holding all of them, and gradually began to squeeze. "All touches I give you are pleasure. Understand me? If I back hand you across the face, you moan and ask for more. When that switch I ordered comes in, I want you hard and near to drooling at the sight of it. Understand me? If I am touching you, then you love it. You need to remember that, girl. Need to believe it down in your soul."

By now, Spike's grip was verging on punishing and Xander was completely rigid, panting fast and scared against him.

"Yes, daddy," Xander whimpered, something inside him breaking and cracking open. "Please, daddy. I do. I do love it. Everything. Always want you touching me," he gasped the words out, feeling his chest flush and his nipples harden as daddy's grip didn't waver. "Didn't meant to cry out. Sorry. Sorry, daddy. Was just surprised. Did like it. Love it. M-made my clitty tingle," he said, because it was true. He felt tears spring to his eyes and his clit pulse and throb as daddy put just a little bit more pressure on him. "Didn't mean to be bad!" Xander cried out in a high pitched whine, even as his body arched, silently begging for whatever daddy wanted to do to him.

Slightly annoyed by Xander's repetition, Spike roughly brought his head down to his, Spike's chest and pressed his mouth flush. Xander whined and immediately started suckling, trained enough in that regard. There was something off here and he wasn't sure how to bring it right again. Xander was eager, sure -- wanted to be fucked again. He really was driven by his cunt, exactly as Spike had pegged him.

Thing was, Spike wanted him driven by Spike.

"Okay. Okay, pet, let's calm down and try 'n start this a different way. Hush, pet. Stop sniveling," he barked out abruptly.

Xander went gratifyingly silent, but there was true fear in his eyes, now.

Bugger. Spike couldn't bloody win for losing.

Xander's hair was soft and tempting -- Spike wanted to make reigns out of it -- so he began stroking again, releasing his grip so he just held Xander's sac, waiting for the boy's heartbeat to stop thundering, his breathing slowing to something not-quite as bellows like and there was a touch more intelligence in his eyes.

Time to push this from a different angle. "Pretty girl, what makes you think you were doing something bad?"

"I... you said," Xander started, confused. He liked the way Spike was touching him now, soft and sweet, like Xander was something special. "Said I was... I shouldn't have yelled like that. Didn't mean to," he said again, trying to fill each word with his earnestness.

God, he was such a fuck up. His dad had always called him that, and though Anya had never used those same words, Xander knew he'd been a disappointment. She'd left, hadn't she? Which made him think of Spike leaving. He whimpered without realizing it, curling closer to Spike's body.

It was a good think, Spike thought, that he was used to Drusilla's way of believing she was still a babe in arms, swathed and aching only to be cuddled while she cried. It fit Xander like a glove.

Wishing he was warmer, since he knew that'd reassure Xander, Spike consciously lowered his voice to a rolling buzz. "Did I say you shouldn't have yelled like that? Pretty sure I didn't say that at all, little one. If you don't know why I'm not happy, then you don't know how to make it better, do you?"

Xander absorbed that, blinking rapidly. He'd clearly never thought of it that deeply before.

Which made sense, what with a growing pattern of folk who never cared to let him correct the behavior. They had their own methods and it'd taught Xander to be quiet, at least, and take what he was given. Useful, but not particularly relevant.

"Think about it, pretty little girl, Daddy's favorite toy. Think about what I said to you, then tell me what you've done that's wrong."

"Said," Xander hiccuped the word. "Said I was new. Forgetful. That I should, uhm, moan for you and love it when you touch me. However you want to touch me. And I *do*. I do, daddy," Xander said.

Then, something else daddy said made Xander pull back a little and look him in the eye. "Am I really your favorite toy, daddy?" Did that mean now, or ever? And did he include Drusilla? Or, wait did that mean that daddy had other toys he played with right now?

The thoughts were swirling around in Xander's head, internal babble that left him feeling more confused than anything else. Except for those little shots of pleasure the thought of being daddy's favorite gave him.

Spike very, very manfully did not say that he liked Xander better than a vibrator. Perfectly true but the traumatized boy wouldn't share in the joke very well. So he said, "Course I do, pet. Taking the time to train you into a perfect comeslut for me, means you're my very favorite. I've never done this before," and his tone heavily implied he was granting Xander a huge concession. "Always just taken what I wanted, used them up until there was nothing left." Gripping the back of Xander's hair, he pulled until Xander had to look up at him, held at an unnatural angle that was probably a little painful and wasn't that a zing, how Xander just let him, "I'm not tossing you out like yesterdays hooker, pet. You're not a quick fuck for me, not a weekend getaway with something that'll bleed pretty colors while I fuck their broken bodies. You're mine. My favorite slut, mine to keep forever."

Xander's eyes were spangled with joy, stars like Spike hadn't seen for a hundred years and more, and then only when he was out in the country, away from even that burgeoning light pollution. "Daddy," Xander breathed.

Spike smiled down, benevolent and a bit condescending, beginning to massage the sac he still held. Xander made a noise that was a close as a human could get to purring, rocking in with legs that spread invitingly. Time to try again, now.

"Listen to me, baby girl, sweet, eager toy. When I touch you, it feels good. That's what it means for Daddy to touch you, doesn't it? It feels good, feels hot and tingly inside you when I frig your clit, doesn't it? Nod yes, pretty." Dazed, Xander obediently nodded. "There, shh, just like that, good girl. It feels good when I press inside your hungry pussy too, doesn't it?" Another nod. "And it feels good when I give you bruises, press into your flesh until it's black and blue and red all over. That's what you didn't do before, baby. You acted like i hurt you." Careful, so carefully, Spike put his mouth right below Xander's ear and hmmmm, low and long until he was certain Xander was vibrating with it. "I can't hurt you, pet. Even when you bleed for me, you'll moan and beg for more. Your my pretty toy, my perfect, favorite toy, and unless I tell you I'm punishing you, nothing I do hurts you."

"Yes, daddy," Xander said, feeling the words sink down into his bones. There was something about the tone of daddy's voice, the way he touched and teased, that made Xander feel a little dazed. Every word he said came through loud and clear, but wierdly fuzzy at the same time. Like Xander knew what they all meant, but in a sort of
absentminded way. But it didn't matter, not really. He knew what daddy wanted.

Xander nodded, and turned his head a little, rubbing his cheek against daddy's head as his lips moved over Xander's skin, leaving him tingling all over.

"There, that's a sweet girl," Spike praised, tugging on Xander's sac in a way he knew would cause a lightning bolt that wasn't really pleasure but wasn't quite pain, either. Xander whimpered softly and curled closer. "There, see? You're learning. Need to understand the difference between me punishing you, pet, and training you. You will, I know, sweet little whore. You want to be so good for me, learn how best to please me, I know, there's a girl. Such a good girl for Daddy. Lean forward now, shhhh, that's right, keep your eyes closed. Don't think, pretty, just move like Daddy wants you to, against his shoulder, just like a little baby, aren't you? Trusting Daddy to keep you safe, keep you close and happy, letting you touch him, make yourself feel so good... "

Spike didn't stop talking as he gradually shifted their positions, exposing more and more of Xander's arse while keeping him cuddled up close. Xander didn't react, mostly, already nicely in a trance -- he did fall into those so *very* easily, really. He'd have to look into that, later. For now, though, he cooed and cuddled and rubbed over Xander's arse, pinching him harder and harder until there was nothing goose-like to the flesh that began to turn a nicely red color. Xander would hitch, jerking lightly at the touches, but that was involuntary, ignorable. He'd always sink right back down, mewling, "Daddy, Daddy," as he thrust his arse out further.

"Pretty girl, this is what you're for, baby. You're here to make Daddy feel good," he promised, and spanked Xander solidly.

Xander moaned, low and long. "Make daddy feel good, so good," Xander mumbled, lessons slowly sinking in, filling him until all he knew was daddy. "Good girl, good slut. Yours. Daddy's good little whore. Please," Xander whimpered, rocking and rubbing himself against daddy's belly.

Daddy's hand came down hard enough to sting, and it sent a burst of heat through him. "Daddy," Xander gasped, feeling his clit swell as another stinging slap came down. "Your girl's so hot, so wet. My clit's throbbing, daddy, need you. Use your girl, daddy. Use her anyway you want. All yours. Yours, daddy." Words spilled out as Xander grew more and more aroused, going a little crazy with wanting.

By the time Xander's arse was a uniform red color, the boy was a mumbling, babbling mess of need. "You're so disgusting," Spike cooed as he slapped down again and again, pushing Xander so he had a better angle with a careless hand. "Such a stupid, silly little slut. That's right, girl, you're making Daddy feel so good, the way you take it. Pretty, pretty girl with a cherry red arse and greedy, aching pussy."

Xander's hips rocked at that, driving his cock into Spike's leg. His arse thrust back out quick as could be, though, clearly and openly asking for more.

"Whore. Cocksucking, come-hungry bitch," Spike praised. His free hand stole along the sofa, cupping Xander's jaw roughly and pushing two fingers inside. "That's it, baby, I want to feel how much you're enjoying this, how sweet you are taking Daddy's hurts and Daddy's words, making them feel good for both of us. This is what you are, baby. You're a toy. Daddy's favorite, perfect toy, molded for whatever I want. Feels so good, doesn't it, baby? Daddy's hand making your arse so red and swollen. I know it hurts, but it feels good too, doesn't it? Sure it does." The steady sound of his hand on Xander's arse played counter-note to his rambling, each jolt of flesh of flesh going right to Spike's cock. God, what he could do to this boy.

"Gonna teach you to enjoy it without being hard," he whispered, smacking in earnest now. Xander was practically howling around his fingers and he'd be black and blue tomorrow. Good. "Gonna clip that pretty clit of yours, keep it soft and malleable while still you whine and beg and cry for more. Oh, not always, of course. Daddy likes watching his girl soak her thighs, shuddering as she remembers what it's like to be a big girl. Because you aren't. You're just a stupid, silly little girl, a baby who needs Daddy's hand on her arse and his cock in her pussy. That's what you are, baby, a slut. A sex-toy. You're a blowup doll with a clit on the outside, a thing for Daddy's pleasure, and oh, you like pleasing Daddy, don't you."

Xander was crying outright, now, hiccuping and choking on Spike's finger.

Gorgeous.

"C'mere," Spike whispered, carefully helping Xander move rubbery arms and legs until the boy was flat on his stomach on the sofa, rocking into the rough fabric mindlessly. "Good girl," he praised and leaned down to lick his girl's red, red pussy.

He really needed to seed the damn place with lube.

"Daddy!" Xander shouted, daddy's tongue leaving a fiery trail of sensation across his cleft. It made his whole body vibrate with need, those soft, wet licks. "Need you, need you, daddy," Xander whined, pressing up against daddy's tongue, reaching back to open himself up. He used his hands to present himself, leave his pussy open and available. "Need you in my pussy, daddy. In my cunt. So hungry, so empty," he sobbed the last words, rubbing his face against the sofa cushions as the tears spilled out. "So bad, need your cock so bad."

It hurt, hurt to pull himself open this way after daddy's spanking, but Xander couldn't do anything else. He needed it, just like he'd told his daddy. "Do anything, anything for you, daddy," he babbled, trying to rise up a little on his knees to present himself further.

Xander parted easily under his tongue, still loose and open after the fucking he'd received earlier that morning. He tasted good, earthy and strong but not dirty, just Xandery, and oh, the pretty pictures he made as he gripped his own reddened arse-cheeks, holding himself open so he was ready for anything his Daddy might want...

A moment of pure serendipity -- if Spike believed in those things -- had him groping underneath the sofa cushions, ignoring the way Xander briefly went green with pseudo-sea sickness. "Aha! Found it!"

Lube. Sweet, precious lube that Spike got all over everything along with his dick. He ignored the slippery mess, knocking Xander's hands out of the way with a growl of annoyance and slamming himself balls deep with a single thrust.

Xander howled. It was the prettiest thing Spike had ever heard.

"That's it, bitch," he panted. There was no finesse, no hope that Xander enjoyed this as well because it didn't matter. Spike was enjoying each hot, slick glide through his tight body which meant Xander would either enjoy it, or learn to. "Take it, baby, swallow your Daddy's cock, just like that. Such a greedy bitch, wanting this for so long, haven't you? Fuck, that's it, gonna come in your sweet pussy, leavy you hot and wet for me for hours." The sofa began to jerk under Spike's frantic movements, skidding across the floor in irratic spurts while Xander groaned and rocked underneath him, trying to meet each thrust and beg for more. "Fuck, don't come, bitch, don't, don't, don't!" The last word broke off into a long, breathless groan as Spike came in deep, powerful spurts.

"Daddy, daddy, dadddy." Xander was crying. Crying and hurting and loving it. He couldn't stop babbling, couldn't stop calling out to his daddy, begging with just his name falling from Xander's lips. He wanted to come, but he also knew that it was daddy's decision, that he wouldn't come, *wouldn't*, not until daddy said so.

Daddy had collapsed on top of him, his cock still plugging Xander's cunt, keeping all of daddy's come inside of him. He wanted everything daddy had said. Wanted to stay this way for hours, daddy inside him, his come inside him, marking him, scenting him, making him feel so hot and sexy and good.

He whimpered when Daddy started to pull away, pushing his pussy back onto daddy's cock.

He was on the edge of orgasm, just waiting for daddy's permission, waiting in that place that was just this side of pain. So much pleasure that Xander gnashed his teeth with it, groaning and writhing as his body screamed for release.

"Don't you have a scooby meeting tonight?" Spike asked, inanely. Not that it really mattered with Xander bruised and raw, full of his come and stinking of sex to high heaven. Sure a shower would fix that, but Spike didn't want him to. Clearly he'd just skip the meeting.

That was if he could walk by the time Spike was done with him.

"Shhh, it's okay," he gentled, "shhh, there, baby, breathe, calm down. Daddy'll take care of you, that's it. You trust Daddy, don't you? Trust him with your pretty clit, your body and soul? That's all mine, isn't it, now," he said, affectionately nipping Xander's neck just to hear the boy hiccup with need. "There, girl, shhh, calm down. I need you to get calm on command, baby, nice and lax just cause I say so. Good girl, such a pretty, sweet girl."

The words worked, like they always did, and soon Xander was breathing easily with only the occasional hitch or sniffle. His cock was still painfully hard, Spike knew, but his was obedient, such a good girl who was damn near in a trance as Spike petted and cooed and sometimes rocked his softened cock into Xander's pussy, just to feel the boy shudder and go a little bit more relaxed.

"Such a good girl," he whispered into Xander's ear, nipping the lobe. "Careful, pet, Daddy's going to sit you up. Your job is to stay plugged and full on Daddy's cock, okay? Can you do that, baby?"

Lifting Xander up was like lifting a drunk. He looked drunk, too, messy with sweat and need as he swayed and twisted around to stare at Spike as he was lifted onto his knees. "Can, Daddy. 'M a good girl for Daddy. A good girl, good slut. Wanna be..."

The kiss was soft and sweet. "I know, girl, such a sweet, obedient baby. THere now, that's it. Settle into Daddy's lap." For all Xander felt a hundred pounds heavier, once he understood what Spike wanted he figured out how to assist, his arse firmly glued to Spike's hips as he pressed that hot, pain-tender skin against Spike's curls until they crinkled. Xander would occasionally shudder, rocking back into the pain, but didn't otherwise object.

"Such a good girl. Push out your titties, baby. Daddy wants to play." Spike had Xander lean back, head more on the sofa than Spike's shoulder, letting Spike's fingers find the small, hard nubs of the boy's nipples. He rolled them lightly, not squeezing too hard because he knew just how tender everything had to be feeling for Xander. "Now, what I want you to do, baby, is to push that hot, burning pussy of yours up and down on Daddy's cock. I want you to fuck me hard again, baby, fuck your greedy pussy all over my cock until I come inside you again. I want to feel your hot arse, swollen from Daddy's hand, rubbing all over Daddy's skin, okay? It'll make us both feel so good when you do that. Ride Daddy's cock, baby, bounce like a pony until your pussy is wet and hot and warm again. And then I'll frig your pretty clit."

Xander groaned, bouncing eagerly, roughly, taking daddy's cock again and again. "So, hot, daddy. Burning up. My pussy, my little clitty, my skin. All of me, all for you, daddy." Xander rubbed his ass against daddy's lap, grinding his pussy onto daddy's cock. "Want to make you feel good. Make you hard, make you come again," Xander panted, as he leaned back, hands on daddy's thighs as a brace as he rode his daddy's cock.

Daddy reached out, fingers brushing lightly over Xander's nipples. Even so the touch made him gasp, made him thrust his titties out even more. "Use me, daddy," Xander moaned, undulating his hips and squeezing internal muscles to please his daddy.

His ass was on fire, the skin raw and incredibly sensitive. Each zinging shock sent another wave of arousal through Xander, knowing that his daddy had done that to him only made Xander's clit pulse and leak. "Wet. So wet for you, daddy."

He shifted forward, placing his hands on daddy's shoulders instead, wanting to take him even deeper. He wanted to ride his daddy hard, fuck himself on daddy's cock until daddy was moaning and shuddering and losing himself enough to bite into Xander again. He knew how much daddy loved that, how much tasting, taking Xander's blood pleased his daddy. Xander leaned in, his chest rubbing daddy's, tilting his head and arching his neck towards daddy's soft, sweet lips. And all the while, he bounced and writhed, letting instinct take over as he reached for daddy's orgasm, squeezing and teasing his daddy to climax.

The wilder Xander got, the more relaxed Spike felt. It wasn't a normal reaction, really: he was more used to meeting wildness with excessive wildness. But oh, Xander was just gone with it, fully the sex-obsessed slut that Spike had always dreamed of having, hurting himself so prettily just to make Spike hard -- and he was, hard as nails and ready to pound -- slamming his arse down again and again, wet and hot and tight, somehow, still, so Spike didn't have to do the thrusting himself. He was like a bloody piston, up and down with frantic, sweat-heavy want and it was just...

"Gorgeous," Spike whispered into Xander's throat. "Just bloody gorgeous."

Xander kept on babbling about how good he wanted to be, how much of a whore he was, but Spike wasn't listening. The grains of Xander's throat had caught his attention, pores exposed and widened with sweat. The sight of it mixed with the tight-perfect feeling of an arse bouncing on his cock and oh, Spike wanted, he just wanted and there was no reason for him not to give in.

Self control had never been his thing, really. So he didn't bother trying to harness it.

It wasn't just his face that changed. His whole body changed when his teeth went longer, eyes yellower: sights, smells, sensations, all of it when sharper than any human could hope to imagine, almost excruciating in intensity. Spike rode it out, humming and moaning in pleasure, sounds he buried in Xander's throat, against skin that was so soft against his lips, his tongue, the taste of Xander like a glowing invitation, neon that burned his retinas until he was blind with it.

Wrapping his arms around Xander to hold him very, very still, Spike bit almost delicately.

Blood, hot and rich and his, completely his, flooded his mouth. He moaned, almost whimpering as high as his pet did, coming so hard it ached along his spine, in the muscles of his stomach and legs. He sucked carefully, distant within the confines of his own skull, because sex and blood, fucking and food, the heavy, cream-rich taste of a boy who gave himself so freely, who wanted to be taken again and again and again, teeth and cock, Spike's hands around his fucked up, needy soul.

He felt like a god.

By the time he remembered to disengage, Xander was a stiffened mass of need. He wasn't moving, and Spike did a quick check of his heart and the sound of his rushing blood to make sure he hadn't taken too much just in case (he hadn't; he couldn't, really, not now). It wasn't pain that held Xander like this, but pleasure. Pure pleasure that he'd been taken with cock and fangs. "You feel it to," Spike whispered, licking over the tiny, perfect marks he'd left. No raw wounds for his pet, oh no. "You know you're mine. Always will be."

Dark eyes above a mouth that was utterly silent, for once, said yes.

Carefully, almost kindly, Spike eased Xander off his cock and onto his back, laying him out on the sofa that was going to have to be bloody steam-cleaned, if not outright replaced, when they were done. "My girl," he murmured as he bent down. "My very good girl. Daddy's tasted your blood, and now he wants to taste your come. Do that for me, baby."

The moment Spike got his mouth around the head of Xander's clit -- and now it was a clit, never a cock again -- Xander screamed like he was dying, coming oceans of relief.

Spike drank every drop of it.

Xander didn't so much thrust into daddy's mouth, as just let the shudders of relief and arousal take over. He was a writhing mass of sensation. His fingers instinctively reached for daddy, burying themselves in his hair and holding him there. Not because Xander wanted to force or keep daddy that way, but because he just had to touch him, to pet him and caress him and show him how much he loved him.

"Love you," Xander said, crying. "Love you, daddy." Sobbing like a baby, Xander couldn't help all the emotion that had welled up inside him when daddy had so possessively called him his. When he said Xander would always be his.

Xander wondered if he'd always feel like this, always feel that intensity every time daddy said those words.

Licking over the head of Xander's spent clit made the boy shudder with a raw vulnerability that was only mostly pleasure. He wasn't objecting, though. He'd been tamed to this particular bridle and Spike could read in the relaxed sprawl of his body that if Spike wanted it, Xander would give it. The 'it' was nigh immaterial at this point.

"Baby," Spike crooned, gathering Xander up against him with soft, careful hands. "There's my girl, my sweet, obedient little love. Want Daddy to carry you? Want Daddy to cuddle you like the baby you are?"

Xander was too busy swaying on his feet to really agree. Spike didn't mind, though. Just lifted Xander like he weighed nothing, a tiny, squalling toddler exhausted after a long day. The height differential was a big annoying, really, but Spike was used to Dru, who met and matched his height as much as she did anything else. So he knew how to shift, how to make sure Xander felt covered and hugged as he walked them into the bathroom.

"Sweet girl, pretty slut, you're my very own now. I know standing's hard, but you've got to for Daddy for now, all right? Stand, there's a good girl, lean on the wall if you have to." Long, red scratches marred Xander's back as he turned and leaned against the bathroom wall. Spike blinked at those, no memory of making them, but shrugged. His to hurt. "Gonna run a us a long soak, you'll see. You can sleep on Daddy in the nice, warm water for a bit, you've just got to be big and strong for a few more minutes."

Xander felt shaky, physically and emotionally. All the "sweet girls" and "baby"s daddy kept giving him were making him shiver with pleasure. He let his weight fall against the wall and he locked his knees, trying to stop the trembling and obey.

"Yes, daddy," Xander said, and as always saying the words did something to Xander. Gave him confidence and a kind of comfort. Obeying Spike made him feel something that he'd never felt when giving in to Anya's requests. He watched as Spike filled the tub, testing the temperature carefully. Xander knew that he was adjusting it so that it wouldn't burn the way it had when they'd showered the other morning. His cheeks warmed with pleasure. "Thank you for taking care of me, daddy," he said, starting to feel drowsy. He tried not to let his eyes droop closed because his daddy had said he had to stay big and strong for just a little while longer.

"That's what Daddy's do," Spike answered absently. "Take care of their little girls."

The tub filled up at a bloody glacier's pace and Spike fought against impatiently kicking it. That'd hurt, and it'd confuse Xander. Instead, he searched around the cabinets to see if he could find something bubbly and sweet, which would reinforce just how girly Spike wanted his toy. That, and he liked the stuff. He'd always been one for taking care of his person.

He did a mean tea party, too. Provided the cups held blood.

A half-empty bottle of something vanilla-scented lurked in the back of a medicine cabinet. Not ideal, but good enough until more supplies could be bought. He'd just added a stream of it, arch an oddly blue color that glittered as it sank into the water, when the phone rang.

Xander went rigid in surprise.

Spike cursed. To answer or let Xander do it, that was the question. Xander was staring at him with an expression of pure panic, instinct warring with his need to obey Spike.

Then again, who would be calling at six on a Thursday evening? Xander wasn't a social butterfly.

"Stay here," he ordered and went out in the hall. Yanking up the phone, he triggered it on before turning his head to the side, "All right, I'm answering, I'm answering!" A "What!" got barked directly into the phone.

"Er. Spike? What are you doing at Xander's?"

"Boy has blood, of course, and I'm cut off at Willy's for a few. Got into an, ah, argument over payment." That sounded mostly plausible.

Willow seemed to consider this, gentle gnawing on her lower lip coming out in wet, soft noises over the line. "That doesn't explain why you're answering the phone, though."

"No, that'd be because your disgusting human friend is currently a disgusting human snot factory. If I touch it, he won't have to replace the plastic."

"Oh, he's sick? Does he need soup? I can bring over soup, he always says that my chicken soup is the best for making him feel better..."

Bad, bad choice. Eventually Spike says, "Look, do whatever you want. He's got tissues and bullied me into getting him lime jell-o so he's all right for the evening. Call him yourself later, if you want, but I'm done with this."

Strangely, Willow thought about this for a few moments. "Lime jell-o? Really? Okay, then."

It makes no sense, but Spike's grateful for the reprieve and gets back to the bathroom as fast as he can.

Xander stood stock still, listening as Spike answered the phone. The loud ring had jarred him out of his haze of contentment for a little bit, but he still knew enough not to move from the spot Spike had left him in. Besides the water looked really good. He could practically feel the warmth radiating from the water and the vanilla scent smelled sweet.

He realized as Spike spoke that he'd forgotten to tell daddy about the Scooby meeting. He hoped that didn't mean he was in trouble. He was relieved when Spike got them out of going by claiming Xander was sick, but surprised when Spike mentioned the lime jell-o.

He heard Spike hang up, his stomach doing a little somersault when Spike came into view again, running his hand through his bleached locks as he walked back in.

"How did you know I like lime jell-o when I'm sick?" Xander asked, without thinking. "I mean," Xander backtracked. "'M sorry for forgetting to tell you about the scooby meeting daddy." He rubbed his hands together anxiously, suddenly feeling cold at the thought of having disappointed or angered Spike.

Spike tugged the boy in for a kiss. "Not like I gave you a chance," he reassured, wondering how he had known about Xander and his desire for comfort green jell-o. Something from his time in the rat-trap basement, maybe? It didn't really seem like something he would remember, though. "In the tub, pet. Kneel down so you're not putting weight on your sore bum yet."

Xander stumbled a little as he obeyed, but Spike merely offered him a steadying hand, running a few more seconds of hot to freshen up the water. He hated taking tepid baths. Xander's face went bliss-rich as he sank into the water, kneeling so the head of his clit hung just below the water line.

"I love how pretty your bum is like this, little one," Spike murmured as he climbed in himself. He couldn't help but touch it, rubbing and pinching marks that were already darkening. "Black and blue and red all over. So pretty." He kissed one mottled swell, and then settled back against the rim. "Sit back, baby, like you were going to sit on Daddy's cock again."

Xander immediately lowered himself, gritting his teeth to keep a hiss of pain from escaping. It did hurt, but it wasn't because Xander didn't like it. He liked everything daddy did to him. He thought about taking daddy's cock instead, the way daddy told him to pretend he was doing.

"Mmm," Xander hummed, rubbing himself against daddy's lap despite the pain. "Feels so good, daddy." Daddy pressed a kiss to Xander's nape and it send a shiver down his spine. "Love your kisses, daddy. Your lips are so soft."

Spike chuckled. "The advantages of being undead. No, pet, don't grind like that. Not now." Staring through the water wasn't the best way to gauge placement, but eventually Spike got his fingers in positions he was certainly wouldn't hurt him further, lifting Xander up and a little away. "Time to heal, pet. I don't want you so broken I can't play with you in a few hours. So just let your body adjust, feel hour warm the water is, soft on your skin while you lean against me."

He wasn't doing much leaning, just his shoulders, really, but Xander still sighed and happily accepted the kisses on his neck and face. "Feels good," he murmured again, giving a soft little oh when Spike brushed over the wounds.

God. He'd bitten Xander. Drank his blood, if not much, with the chip a distant nightmare barely remembered. He couldn't help but lick, sucking on the tiny scabs until they broke off letting a tiny dribble of blood free. Delicious. "Taste like fine wine, pretty toy. You're so good, letting Daddy love you inside and out."

"Love my daddy," Xander said, pressing himself back against daddy. "Want you always. Inside and out. Always." Xander felt himself drooping, felt his eyes closing as exhaustion took over. He felt so good, so sated and warm and loved and happy. Xander didn't think he'd ever felt this way before, felt so... complete. Like he'd finally found where he belonged. Who he belonged to, belonged with. "Daddy," he murmured, as daddy licked across his neck again, leaving the bite he'd been given tingling.

The temptation to just bite down again, to feel skin part like air and wine under his teeth, hot blood slick against his tongue, his throat...

But as much as he wanted it, a faint sense of not yet hovered in the back of his mind. Just enough to keep it merely wanting and easy to brush off, to bank for a better time, hot coals that only shimmered red instead of burning with it.

It was a unique feeling, this patience and a sort of self-control. He'd learned a lot since the chip, to his dismay, but this is something that still felt new to him, gangly and just born, with all the edges yet to be found. He didn't like it. But he liked Xander, so it evened out in a way.

"Bite your lip," Spike said, in compromise. "Bite it till it bleeds for me."

Xander's eyes fluttered, the only sign of life, until teeth settled hard and fast in his thicker lower lip, white against darkening pink as pressure built and built, a summer storm just waiting to burst free --

Spike licked up the first droplet of blood, cherry red and taunting, as it beaded. Then he turned Xander slightly, cradling him and sucked on his lower lip for a while. They weren't really kisses, in a way, or at least not until Spike took Xander's mouth, letting him share the taste of his own copper-salt blood. Even then, though, they still weren't. More like... teaching. Like, "Gonna learn to love this taste, too. Learn to love it like come, lap like a kitten when you're offered a taste."

"Mmm," Xander hummed. "Yes, daddy," he murmured into daddy's mouth, pressing into the kiss, opening himself up to daddy. He reached up, letting his fingers play over the slightly swollen wound at the base of his neck. "Tingles," he said on an exhale as daddy pulled away, looking down at him.

His lip throbbed, but in a good way. And he knew that the sting that would stay with him for hours would remind him of daddy and this moment and this feeling of heat and love.

"Love everything my daddy teaches me." He licked his lip, tasting a droplet of his own blood, straight from the source. Then he stared at daddy, stared at his mouth, at the place where his pulse should be beating along his slender neck. "Will," Xander said, trying to swallow back some of his excitement at the thought. "Will daddy let me taste him? Some day?" He could almost feel the potency of daddy's blood sinking into him.

He'd never in his wildest fantasies about daddy imagined he'd want something like that, but now, right now, he did.

"Er," he said, cleverly. To bite him? That's what Xander wanted? Hot as it was -- and oh, it was, a spreading jungle of heat and want in Spike's gut just thinking about it -- it wasn't really normal, was it? Humans had their own version of blood-play, sure. Spike had played with plenty of desperate children who wanted to be anything but what they were, aching to bleed their troubles away.

But that's not what Xander wanted, with his eyes hungry enough to draw him in right there, out of the bathwater and into a body that was so greedy, so desperate to be owned that he wanted to do some of the owning himself.

And oh, the feel of blunt teeth in his neck, that sharp-sweet pain as Xander pulled...

Caressing his face, Spike placed a final kiss on his swollen mouth and then pushed Xander underneath the water. He held him there for three beats -- Xander didn't struggle once -- before allowing him up. "Hand me the shampoo, pet."

Xander raised back up onto his knees to reach for the shampoo, sinking back down into the water with a soft hiss. He leaned back, letting his back rest against daddy's chest, the sting in his ass a dull throb now. He sighed in contentment when daddy's fingers started running through his hair, massaging his scalp. "Mmmm, 's good." He wanted to snuggle into the sensation, but daddy had said not to rub himself on daddy's lap right now, so Xander was careful not to move. It felt so good.

Anya had never done anything like this for him. No one had.

He'd always been the one to take care of everyone else. He was always the one to see to Anya's needs, to Cordy's. He'd never known how good it would feel, how happy he would be to let someone take care of him like this. Just this small thing, washing his hair for him, but it left him feeling almost... cherished.

"Look like you want me to sing you a lullaby." Xander's instant flush was another dollop of confirmation, but Spike only kissed that blood warm cheek and went back to teaching his pet that good things happened to good girls. "Not tonight, love, no fear. Only song I know isn't exactly comforting."

"I don't -- I mean -- "

"Shut up, silly girl," Spike said, but not unkindly. "Wasn't asking for you to defend yourself, it's just who you are. A needy little girl who's always wanted a Daddy to take care of her. Well, now you've got one." He wasn't washing Xander's hair so much as giving the pet a scalp massage, so he freed an arm to wrap around Xander's chest, holding him close. "You'll learn how to ask me for what you need, little slut, but until then, I'd like to just mock you at how sleepy and content you looking. Is there anything wrong with that, really? I like you sleepy and content. Says I'm taking care of you the way you ought."

Xander was on fire by now, warming up the water again with each wave of embarrassed pleasure. Spike just held him, enjoying it for a moment then said, "Deep breath." He didn't bother waiting for Xander to obey: he would, or he wouldn't. If he didn't, he'd learn he should have, next time Spike pushed so Xander's head was underwater, face against Spike's thigh, with his knees poking out of the water as displacement took affect.

Ten seconds, even seconds, more. Spike held Xander under just for the pleasure of knowing he could do this and Xander would love him for it. Also, it would rinse the soap out.

Xander felt cocooned in warmth, the water smooth and silent all around him. Daddy's hands were on his shoulders, holding him steady. He shifted, rubbing his cheek against daddy's thigh, feeling everything inside him relax. If he wasn't underwater, he would be sighing with happiness.

Daddy's fingers slipped into his hair, tugging and Xander came up immediately. He took a deep, sucking breath, lungs burning before leaning back against daddy's chest. "Am I all clean now, daddy?" Xander asked, chewing his bottom lip. It was weird how small he could feel next to daddy, just like a little girl. Needy and wanting.

All he wanted was for daddy to take care of him.

Spike toed the taps, letting a little of the water drain out before adding a burst of fresh, hot water. It was too hot, probably, but the rest of the water was near luke-warm and Spike did hate being cold when he didn't need to. "Dunno," he remarked idly. "Why don't you sit up and wash yourself off in front of me? Then you can make sure Daddy's squeaky clean, too."

Xander,clearly, didn't understand what he was being asked. But still he was an obedient pup, pushing onto his knees and turning around in the water so he was facing Spike. He reached for the soap, brow dark and furrowed, while Spike worked a squeaking dial back to the 'off' position.

Hesitantly, Xander ran the bar of soap over the length of his arm.

Spike licked his lips. He did love a show.

Xander wasn't sure what daddy wanted from him, but when he rubbed the soap over his nipples he saw something flash in daddy's eyes. The look sent a shiver of excitement through him.

So, he used the blunt corner of soap to draw circles around his left nipple, arching his back to present himself even further. "Like this, daddy?" Xander asked, feeling breathless.

"Yes, baby," daddy said, reaching out to tweak Xander's nipple. "Just like that. Want you nice and fresh and clean for me."

Xander nodded, shifting to rub the soap over his right nipple, moaning softly. He liked the way daddy was looking at him, liked the way it made him feel.

Xander really was just so pretty. Dark eyes, dark hair with that flexible mouth, open and appealing as he tried to breathe and perform at the same time. His body was a surprising delight: decently muscled between his job running after the Slayer's snatch and doing his own work during the day, but he wasn't the gym-rats that Spike sometimes enjoyed breaking. There was a power that went down to bone, with Xander, and Spike couldn't help but reach out and touch thighs that felt fantastic around his waist, warm skin and just the right amount of softness covering the promise of endless, endless strength.

"Pretty girl," Spike murmured, fingering his pet's belly button just to see his eyes flare dark and needy, breath quickening as he nodded yes, yes, whatever Spike wanted. "I like watching pretty girls dance for me, you know. The white against your skin, displaying what's mine for me to see. And you like it, too." It wasn't a question: Spike could see the blood that fluttered hot in Xander's neck, the eager way he presented himself. "You like showing off, like being my girl. My pretty pet. That's right, girl, swirl the soap around your titties. I want to suck on those later, which means you need to be clean for me."

Not that Spike objected to tasting the skin of a man who worked for his living. Or worked for Spike, even. But Spike loved the way the soap moved in a skiddering arc around tight, taut nipples that pierced the air before them. He liked the trail of bubbles that it left, iridescent patterns that made Xander looked bejeweled. "Such a pretty, pretty thing you are, my own personal slut, and eager for it."

"Yes, daddy," Xander said, feeling the low thrum of excitement that always came with the hungry looks that daddy sent him. He swirled the soap around and over his nipples, pressing them a little harder as he rode over the hard nubs. He liked the rough feel of the edge as it pressed into him, a soft moan escaping his lips.

When it felt like he'd been repeating the gesture too much, he finally let the soap slide over his belly, just tickling over his abdomen before letting it rub into the crease of his right thigh. "Should I clean my clitty, daddy? And my pussy? Am I a dirty girl, daddy?" Xander asked, arching and posing for his daddy. He felt hot and breathless, wanting to show his daddy how good he could be.

"Filthy," Spike agreed, envisioning putting Xander down in the water, legs in the air while Spike rode that slick bit of lye and perfume into his pet's pussy, cleaning her out so thoroughly... But soap wasn't the best way to accomplish that, so he just said, "Clean all the places you think need to be cleaned."

It was a contradiction, really, Spike telling Xander that he was a girl, that he was a submissive fuck-toy and then demanding he actually think of things to do, make decisions on his own.

Too bad for him that Spike liked contradictions.

Xander didn't seem to be suffering any confusion, though. The bar of soap was growing noticeably smaller as he ran it up and down his clit, circling the head so that Spike shivered in lusty sympathy. "Sensitive girl," he breathed.

"Am," Xander whimpered but didn't stop the torturous rubbing. He was particularly sensitive just under the head, so he pressed the soap there, scratching himself a little with the blunt tip of a fingernail. He moaned, his clit throbbing in his hand. "Hurts a little, daddy. But I want to be a good girl. Clean and ready for you. Always." He worked lower, lathering up his fingers so that he was able to slip one easily into his dirty pussy.

He was staring at daddy's mouth, wishing he could have another kiss but it wasn't time for kisses now. Daddy wanted him to soap up, get all nice and squeaky clean, so Xander bit his lip instead as he slid a second finger inside, making sure to get as much soap inside as possible. He knew that daddy couldn't see very well with the water, so he lifted himself a little higher, just enough so that daddy would have a nice view of him and know how well he was obeying.

Spike felt like a king, reclining on his throne while a pretty slut performed for his amusement. A feeling borne out when Xander lifted his arse, rising up onto his knees so Spike would have a better view.

"Good girl," Spike purred. He had to reach out, gripping Xander's thighs until the boy knee-walked closer, close enough that Spike could lick over his chin, he cheeks, sucking on his lower lip before releasing it with a small pop. "Gonna give you an enema pet. No, not today, but soon. Gonna fill that pretty pussy of yours with water, let you feel so full you hurt right here," Spike laid a hand flat on Xander's stomach, pressing down so that it hurt just a little. "Flush you out, again, and again, until you run crystal clear for me... that's it, girl. Fuck yourself nice and sweet. No coming, though. This is just for Daddy."

It was cold with so much of him out of the water, but he ignored the shivers, wriggling around a little until he could separate his thighs a little more. "All for daddy. Always for daddy," Xander said, starting to thrust back against his fingers, unable to help himself.
"I'm a dirty girl," Xander said, panting, feeling the heat rising up, enveloping him. "Such a dirty slut for you, daddy."

His clit throbbed and ached, and he bit his lip again, this time to hold in a whimper.

Spike found himself reaching out and allowed it. Xander was so bloody touchable, aching to be held and fondled and used. "Here, girl," he said, softly, drawing his pet close so Spike could nose into his stomach, the bottom curve of his pecs, leaving light kisses. His hands found their way to Xander's arse and he rubbed it softly, almost tenderly while Xander hissed, clit throbbing happily in response. "Good girl," he purred, thumbs dragging over bruises that felt hotter and more painful to the touch. "That's it, baby, let Daddy hurt you. Fingers in your pussy, his hands on your arse -- god, pet, I love to touch you. Love to use what's mine. My girl, my pretty, greedy whore of a slut," he added, just to hear Xander moan.

And moan the boy did, head back, teeth clenched, practically vibrating with it.

Abruptly, Spike pushed him away. "Wash me, now," he ordered, a little cruelly. Xander was getting hard again and Spike didn't want that. Not yet.

For just a second Xander felt a bolt of hurt, rejection and disappointment aching through him, but then he balled it up and pushed it away. He was daddy's. Daddy's to play with and use or not. He liked being daddy's. He loved it. So, there wasn't any reason for him to feel hurt no matter what daddy wanted.

Xander reached for the soap, digging beneath the water to where it had fallen.

He concentrated on what daddy had said before he'd pushed Xander away. That Xander was a good girl, that daddy loved touching him. The thought brought a rush of warmth that swamped the earlier hurt. It made him so happy knowing that there was something about Xander that daddy loved. Made Xander think that maybe daddy would love him someday.

He started with daddy's chest, working the soap over his nipples, but not as hard as he'd done his own. He teased and lathered until daddy's nipples were hard beneath his soapy hands. It made Xander want to lean in and take on in his mouth. He didn't even care if he got a mouthful of soap with it. He just wanted the taste and feel of his daddy inside him again.

Spike caught the longing expression in Xander's gaze and shook his head. "Not worth it, pet. Soap tastes awful." Reaching out, he caressed the side of Xander's face, adding thin lines with his nails along the hair line. It made Xander moan. "Don't worry, though. I'll let my baby suck soon enough. Don't want you sick, though." Or associating the taste of vampire with the taste of Zestfully cleanliness. Not a good combination, really. "Wash, pet. Make Daddy feel good."

And it did feel good. Xander washed him with careful hands and a reverent touch, nearly massaging him as everything from neck to the soles of his feet were carefully examined and cleaned. Sure, he stayed more focused on erogenous zones, but Spike didn't mind. He liked the way his dick flopped in Xander's grip, lax against the glide of a bar of soap that felt... good. Not sexual. Just good.

When Spike was lathered, front and back, he carefully turned around in the tub, crowding Xander against the rim until Spike could settle between his widened legs. "Hair, pet. Wash Daddy's hair." God, he was nearly purring with excitement. He loved the feel of fingers on his scalp, the strong, steady muscle behind him... He let his head fall back in eagerness.

Xander smiled, happiness thrumming through him at the pleasure he saw on daddy's face. He could tell that daddy liked what he was doing, so Xander concentrated, focusing on each spot that made daddy sigh and do that purring moan thing he liked to do. He was careful to use the pads of his fingers to massage daddy's scalp, careful not to hurt him accidentally with his nails.

Xander couldn't resist dropping kisses in the wake of his fingers, along the slim edge of daddy's ear, and his temple. He couldn't help wanting to touch, and kiss, and taste his daddy when he was this close, this happy.

He scrubbed the shampoo into daddy's hair, making sure that he cleaned as well as massaged. Daddy shifted lower, rubbing lightly against Xander's clit and making him gasp. He bit his lip, ignoring the pleasure as he concentrated on his daddy.

If Spike was honest about it, and he was, usually, at least in his most private moments, he wasn't really thinking right then. It felt good, eager boy doing his best to make sure Spike was riding a low wave of contentment, physically pampered, emotionally loved, and very happily sated, for once. Xander was kissing him, he realized dimly, each brush of his lips almost overwhelming. Spike accepted it, basking in it, really, and idly reached out to palm the boy's clit, rubbing it gently. "Need to milk you," he said, muzzily. "Press on you deep inside until you dribble white and empty without really feeling a thing." It was cruel, milking, come without coming, really, but Spike wasn't sure he liked just how hot Xander got with only a glance.

It was flattering, sure. But Spike suspected it wasn't about him so much as the attention. He wanted it to be about him.

Eventually, dazed and happily barely functioning, Spike moaned something about the shower. He opened up the drain, shivering in the cold, but Xander had scurried over to the taps and turned them on hot, almost too hot, until Spike gave him a muzzy glare. Xander flushed red with shame, skin already starting to pink in the heat, and turned it to something more reasonable. "Wash off," Spike muttered, ducking his head into the water and dragging Xander against him.

Honestly, and like Spike could be, it was more hugging than rinsing off. That was okay, though.

Xander wriggled, suddenly feeling playful. He liked the way his daddy was holding him, the hours they'd spent in the tub. The fact that daddy spent so much time with him, taking care of him, and loving him, made Xander feel so good.

He didn't mean his playfulness to be arousing, he wasn't trying to rub himself against daddy, he just liked the way it felt to have daddy's arms around him, squeezing tighter as he wriggled this way and that.

He did try to obey, too, wiping at the lather that clung as they dunked themselves.

"Mm, stop that," Spike murmured, leaning down to give Xander a slow, biting kiss that left the boy's lips swollen. "Pink, like cherries. Mm, no. Strawberries. That's what she called you, right? Strawberry poems."

Xander just gazed up at him with eyes like the dark, fathomless night sky. Uncomprehending but willing to listen.

Spike bit his lower lip again and tried to remember how to think. "Rinse off. For real, now." It took a few moments of pattering water and happy boy to get them both sud-less, and by then Spike had rewrapped his toy into a hug. Only this time, his cock was resting against the boy's arse, his face in Xander's neck and wet, clingy hair.

He sucked lightly, enjoying the taste of clean skin. "Pretty girl, you taste good," he whispered. "And I think I really do want to milk you. You want that, baby? Want Daddy to press something long and cold inside your pussy, touching you the right way so your clit leaks and your balls empty, all without you coming? Make a mess on that pretty stomach of yours, make sure you're soft for a little." Xander wasn't a teenager, Spike had to remember. Having sex three or four times in only five hours was going to take it's toll.

But Spike didn't want to leave the boy hanging, as it were, either. Besides: milking was fun. The ultimate measure of control, to take care of the physical needs without allowing the resulting pleasure.

"Yes, daddy," Xander said automatically because he wanted whatever daddy wanted. And he could tell from the tone of daddy's voice and the soft, hazy look in his eye that it would make him happy to milk Xander.

He imagined it, too, imagined daddy pressing into him with his fingers... or something else, teasing Xander until his body was spent. Imagined what it would feel like to be pleasured relentlessly with no release. His body tightened and he got dizzy at the image. "Yes, daddy," he said again, this time with something more behind the words.

He loved feeling daddy against him, his cock hard and silky soft at the same time, rubbing up against Xander, making his pussy ache. He pushed back, rubbing himself a little against daddy's cock, wanting to give him pleasure.

"I've ordered what I need. It'll be here soon, tomorrow maybe. I'll push you down, pretty girl, slide it right up your pussy with my hand nice and tight on your clit. Watch as you lay there, eyes wide because your clit is hard and it should feel good, shouldn't it? Feel tight and wet and aching. But it just feels odd, pressure and maybe a sharp prick and then your clit will leak, white and thick, your balls relaxing and Daddy'll have to clean you up, messy girl. Wrap you in a diaper, since you can be trusted to control yourself, take care of yourself. That's for Daddy to do."

Speaking of... Spike nuzzled the back of Xander's throat and nudged him towards the toilet. He still had Xander wrapped in his arms so it was easy to reach down and grip the boy's hard cock, which he squeezed painfully tight. Xander cried out and lost most of his erection, but Spike didn't let go. "Baby need to use the potty?" he asked, trying not to snicker or bend Xander over the loo and fuck him right there. Instead he just held Xander's dick, aiming it the way the boy would himself. "Bet you do, baby. Be a good girl, now."

Even after all they'd done, Xander felt acute embarrassment at this. But he closed his eyes and tried to relax, tried to obey. He thought about what daddy said about what he'd ordered, and how he'd take care of Xander completely. He wasn't sure how he felt about a diaper, but he loved the idea of daddy doing all those things for him.

He felt himself loosen, felt his cock jerk, just a little as he finally let go, peeing with daddy's hand around his clit.

"W-what else did you buy, daddy?" Xander asked, suddenly wondering what else he was in store for.

Spike rubbed his thumbs on the muscle directly above Xander's clit, soothing and rewarding his obedience. "Good, that's good, baby," he purred. "There you are, letting Daddy help, being such a good girl. Too young, too little to know how to do this yourself, aren't you? Have to trust Daddy to help you. Lean on me, there, that's it, sweet little slut. Let Daddy take care of you."

Xander was hitching on a soft moan by the time the steady stream ended. Spike shook him a little, habit that hadn't been lost in over a century, then let go. "As to what I bought, pet, well that'll be a surprise, won't it? I can tell you I bought better restraints, though. Soft around my sweet girl's hands an ankles, holding you tight."

And a sheath, Because Spike wanted that pretty clit bound for him. And rope, because Spike liked tying things up. The diaper he'd threatened, because sometimes Spike wanted a needy, desperate baby to care for. And... "Lots of things, really. Why, you gonna object to any of it?"

"No, daddy," Xander said quickly, straightening a little so he could look over his shoulder. "I was only curious. I'm yours, daddy. Do anything for you. Anything you want. Just want to make you happy."

Xander was biting his bottom lip, worrying. He hated even the thought that he'd done something wrong. Or the thought that daddy might think he wanted to stop.

Spike rolled his eyes. "Stupid sweetheart," he said. "Was teasing you. I know you were just curious. You're a curious girl, get yourself in all kinds of trouble that way. But I want these to be a surprise, so they will be."

Xander still looked adorably uncertain, so Spike murmured another, "pretty slut,", because he could, and kissed until Xander stopped biting his lower lip. "Gonna have to train you out of that, I think. Only time I want you biting anything is when I tell you to. Otherwise, I bite that lip, love. Now, then, all empty?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl. Go on the bed, hands and knees." While Xander obeyed, Spike retrieved a clear bottle from the first delivery he'd taken, early that day. Putting a generous puddle into his palm, Spike began rubbing the arnica gel all over Xander's reddened, bruised arse. "I know it's cold, sorry about that. Can't rub it warm," he half apologized.

It was cold, but Xander didn't care. He loved having daddy's hands all over him like this, even though it stung a little to have his sore spots rubbed. "Am I really red, daddy?" he asked, curious again. He'd never been spanked before, not like that. Sure, his mom had, and his dad had smacked him around every now and then, but it wasn't anything serious. And it sure as hell never made him feel like this did.

He wiggled his ass toward daddy, teasing him a little.

His clitty was still half hard, but the feelings daddy were giving him weren't arousing. Instead, they left Xander feeling warm and playful again.

"Red like the sunset. You'll have a time sitting tomorrow, but at least you won't look too bruised. Too bad, really." Spike wanted him bruised: dark and marked for all the world to see.

But his boy had a job that involved stripping his shirt off, sometimes. So Spike spent extra time rubbing the small of Xander's back, making certain that would at least be less visibly damning as his boy's arse.

"Spread, sweetheart," he murmured, trailing his fingers down to Xander's balls. The gel wouldn't hurt if it went other areas, and Spike wanted to test out just how much pressure he could apply here. Some men wanted their balls black and blue, others were too sensitive to bare much touch at all. He wanted to add weights, later, just to see, but that meant gauging what training he'd need to give.

So he rubbed, hard and deliberate, then switching to butterfly touches and a scrap of gel-slick nails. "Such a sweet whore you are," he breathed. "Bitch of a girl, meant for nothing but my pleasure. Let me hurt you, baby. Can I? Can I squeeze and bull until you think your head'll come off from pain? Let me."

"'Course, daddy," Xander said in a voice he knew held the unspoken word 'silly'. Why would his daddy even ask? He could do anything to Xander because Xander was his.

Xander felt languid and warm as daddy massaged him, and every time daddy called him baby or sweetheart it made his tummy tingle. "'M your sweet whore, daddy, to do with as you please." He spread himself wider, giving his daddy all of him to play with. And then daddy was touching him, softly at first, just teasing over his sac.

Xander held his breath, anticipation flooding him as he waited for daddy to wrap his fingers around it and pull, just like he'd said. Waiting for the sting of it, the pleasure that always came with pleasing daddy.

The first tug was quick and sharp, more a warning. Xander made a soft, liquid sigh into the pain and oh. Oh. Spike closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of hurt and lust and contentment so strong it was sinking into his own skin. "That's my baby," he whispered, "a sweet, kinky slut. You like being a slut, don't you? Like it when Daddy reminds you of what you are."

Xander hummed in reaction, which turned into a short, sharp gasp when Spike twisted this time, gathering the heavy, blood-rich sac and squeeze back and forth, making the balls rub together in their pouch.

"I'd cut them off, make you a sweet soprano forever, just to see. But I like to play with 'em too much." He began squeezing rhythmically, hard enough that Xander couldn't help but squirm although he always settled quickly. It was almost a milking motion, tug and squeeze and tight and tug, harder and harder. "That's it, bitch. Whine for me."

Daddy hadn't even had to order him, Xander was already whining and whimpering. He couldn't help it. Pain and pleasure and love. He loved what his daddy was doing. Loved his daddy.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy," the word tumbled out over and over and over again. "Slut. Yours. Your baby. Your slut. Please, daddy, please."

Oh, it felt so good. He was squirming with it.

"That's right. My bitch, my fucking toy. My fuck toy. Whine, baby, loud and high. That's what everybody pays money for, did you know?" Xander's balls were hot and throbbing lightly by now. Pretty, pretty. "On film, you'd be in high demand. Break you and remake you for the camera, listen to you whimper like the whore of a girl you are. Submissive. Pet. Controllable. That's what you want. Make every man a master with you, get his rocks off while you begged and pleaded and whimpered like an animal for more. Because that's what you are, baby. Sweetheart. You're a toy. A fuck-pet. Nothing but a hole, a mouth, a pussy, a body to be given. That's it, girl, love when Daddy hurts you. This weekend, maybe, gonna smack your mouth till it's red and swollen. Bruise your whole body so I can grind against each dark mark, painting each one with my come. Oh, fuck, you're such a treasure, aren't you? A loving baby girl who needs to be used, abused, and kept."

Spike surged along Xander's back, leaning forward to growl in his ear, "And I'm keeping you." His cock fell into the groove between Xander's legs, sliding against those abused balls into tight, sweat-slick heat. "Get the lube," he panted, rocking into Xander's body without ever actually taking it. Using it, in the most classic definition. "Get it, baby, make your thighs slippery for me. Not a lot. I want you red when I'm done."

"Me, daddy?" Xander asked, so many sensations cascading through him. He reached for the lube automatically because daddy had told him, too, but he wasn't sure what to do with it. "On my thighs? Like this?" Xander asked shakily, dripping a dollop of lube into one palm and then rubbing his hands together. He rubbed up and down the insides of his thighs, spreading himself just enough to get his hands in there without losing daddy's cock.

He wanted to ask daddy to fuck him, to take his pussy and use it, use him like he was meant to be, but he knew better already. Daddy wanted it this way, and Xander didn't have the right to beg unless daddy wanted him to.

Spike moaned at the loss of his warm, tight channel of skin, growling lightly while Xander obeyed. "Yeah, yeah, just like that. Just -- ah, good." Oh, so much better with xander's legs closed tight, tight as they could go. "Fuck, yes," he hissed, setting up a short, sharp rhythm meant to get himself off fast, Xander completely ignored. "This," he grunted, "is fucking too, baby. Feel it? Feel Daddy taking pleasure with your body, exactly as he should. Fucking using you." The friction was good here, almost more intense than when he fucked the boy since not as tight, sure, but with something more solid, rougher to rut himself against. "Gonna come all over you, soak your skin like you were a rag for Daddy to use."

Which, well, he was.

By now Spike felt dizzy with lust, slamming hard against the sac he'd just been abusing, shoving his dickhead into that soft, pain-bruised skin. "Stay tight, that's it. Oh fuck, yeah, take it, bitch. Take every thrust and want more, because it doesn't matter where I come, yeah? So long as I come. So long as I fuck you, fuck you, fuck you so hard. Tight, hold your legs tighter!"

"Yes," Xander whimpered not sure which question he was answering or if he was just begging for more. "Come all over me, daddy, please. Want to feel you. Mark me, daddy. Make me yours. Want to rub you into my skin, soak up your come so that I'll have you with me always." He moaned, pressing his legs even tighter together, shutting his eyes and just breathing through the stinging pleasure of it all.

Spike had always loved this position. The use it implied, since sure, it felt good, but not like fucking or sucking level of good. It was just rutting, taking the sweet body below him over and over until Spike's cock burned with it and he was coming, pulses that felt hot to his own lukewarm body, spilling between Xander's thighs, over his balls and even his cock.

Shuddering, Spike fell onto the bed. With a lazy hand, he pushed Xander so his arse was closest. "Legs up. Rub it in, all over," he ordered. "And don't come. Don't really want you getting hard right now."

"Yes, daddy," Xander said, the first tinglings of arousal dying down at the command. He wasn't sure where he'd learned all this sudden control (not that it was all that impressive, he knew) but he was glad that he could obey his daddy like this.

He cupped his sac and rolled the sensitive flesh between his fingers, scooping up daddy's spent come as he went and rubbing it along the length of his clit and over the head. He rubbed it into the skin of his balls and the groove between thigh and groin. He even rubbed some into his belly.

He didn't realize he was moaning, practically purring with pleasure as he did it.

nder's knees -- which made him shiver and want to twitch, but Xander controlled it like a good girl -- he chuckled. "Gonna smell like me now, baby. Gonna walk out that door and everyone will know that you smell like Spike's. Daddy's baby, his precious come-bitch. They'll want you, you know that, right? Gonna have to go with you when you help the Slayer patrol because they'll know, other demons. They'll sense that you're a slut, a whimpering, submissive little bitch who needs a man to keep her happy, a cock and a Daddy to tell her what to do. And they'll want you, pet, want to take you to their lairs and push their bodies into yours. They won't, though," he added, stroking over Xander's sac very, very carefully. "Not with you smelling of me."

Xander shivered like that was the best news he'd heard all day. Maybe it was.

"Weekend, tomorrow. Should get some pressies for us to play with, but the girls will want to see you. The Watcher." Now he presented a problem, Spike mused. The children were too stupid to realize Xander had been taken as thoroughly as all that, but Giles wasn't an utter moron and he had to have know just what a submissive toy Xander was. Had to be kinky enough to notice if they came in reeking of sex, Xander sticking close to his Daddy's side.

Hmm.

Xander felt some of the usually tension and nervousness creep back in. What were they going to do about the girls? and Giles? What about Giles? Xander didn't think he could fool anybody, not now, not the way he felt whenever Spike was near him.

They'd know. And then they'd want to stop it, to keep Spike away. Xander whimpered, unconsciously reaching for Spike and holding on. "Daddy?"

Spike got a thumb slightly to the left of Xander's neck and dug it in, hard. He always knotted up there and pressing on it made Xander exhale forcefully, going limp as Spike played his body like a flute. Mmm. Hot, that, Spike thought as Xander moaned into his neck, unable to be tense with fear but still feeling it.

"What's wrong, pretty girl," Spike said softly, letting Xander cuddle up close. "What's got you so frightened now?" And clinging like a bloody limpet. Good thing Spike didn't need to breathe.

Xander hiccuped something breathless and panicked, but Spike managed to hear 'take me away' and 'hurt you'. Answer enough. He chuckled, rubbing Xander's back and reaching down to lightly stroke and squeeze the boy's arse. "Shh, pretty, it's okay. Oh, baby, so worried about me, aren't you? Worried you won't be Daddy's. Like I'd let that happen. We can play pretend for them, toy. You can pretend you're a big, strapping boy and everything's all right for them. They won't ever have to know." Not even Giles, if Spike was careful. "And when we're back I'll put you in a pretty pink frock, baby, let you simper and curtsy for me, remind yourself that you're nothing but a silly little fuck-girl."

God, the very idea of daddy doing that for him, putting him in a dress, prettying him up just for daddy... It made Xander whimper and curl even closer. But he was still afraid, still worried even though daddy's touch felt so good and so warm. "'M scared, daddy. Not good at lying to the girls. Willow always knows," Xander admitted with a hiccup.

"Not true, sweet slut," daddy said, rubbing Xander's jaw with a thumb before pressing it to Xander's lips to suckle.

Xander took the comfort daddy offered and glanced up, seeking more of an explanation. Daddy chuckled and dropped a kiss to Xander's cheek, making him sigh.

"Didn't know you were such a greedy, bitch, did she? Didn't know that there was a pretty girl inside you just waiting to come out? Just waiting for the right daddy to come along and show her what a good slut she was, did she?" Daddy said.

Xander used his teeth and his tongue on daddy's fingers, liking the feel of daddy's flesh between his teeth. He realized that daddy was right, like always, that Xander had been hiding all this time and he hadn't even realized it.

Spike relaxed as his lie took hold. It was a lie, too. Xander could lie when he wanted to, but this particular instance wasn't one of them. Only reason Willow hadn't figured it out -- and he'd lay even odds that she'd known he was gay a long while back, maybe even a bottom -- was Xander hadn't known himself. Denial had been his shield and Spike had taken it away.

Then again, Xander was so eager to be a good girl. If he was told that he could lie, well, then he'd lie. Effectively.

"And you're all right at work, aren't you? None of them sniffing around, wanting to push you towards the port-a-loos, knowing what you need to stay calm and good. No, pet. You'll be just fine with them. Besides, don't you want to look like a girl? Wear pretty frocks with nothing underneath, skirt bunching around your waist as I sidle up beside you, pressing you forward so I can slip into your pussy, fucking you hard and fast..."

He trail off, amused when Xander's breathing went ragged while his cock stayed mostly quiet. Twitched a bit, but otherwise -- obedient. He tilted Xander's head up with gentle fingers and kissed him softly. "Good girl."

"Yes," Xander said, unable to keep the longing out of his voice. "Will you buy me pretty dresses, daddy?" He wondered if daddy would buy him underwear to match, or if he'd want Xander to go without panties so that he could slip inside Xander's pussy whenever he wanted. Except Xander kind of liked the idea of having silken panties to match his dresses. "Will I have panties to match?" he asked, a little shy all of the sudden.

He could picture it so clearly. All dressed up for daddy, so pretty and irresistible that daddy just has to take him the second he sees him. Fucking him long and hard with his skirts up around his waist. "Please, daddy?"

They were already ordered, of course. "And stockings," Spike promised. "With garters. I'll teach you how to use them."

A few of the panties were crotchless, which aided his situation not a whole lot, but Spike liked the look of them nonetheless. One pair in particular, though, was a silky affair that had to be folded on to the girl -- or pretend-girl -- in question. Held in place with a fastening that required someone else to do it, or good coordination and a mirror.

Spike couldn't wait for that one.

"I'll dress you up like a pretty dolly," he whispered, stroking over Xander's neck and shoulders. "Put rogue on your cheeks and lipstick on your mouth. You'll look like a tarted up whore, all lovely and perfect for whatever I want with you. Panties over your pussy, since no one but me gets to touch there, silky and soft. I might touch your clit like that, baby, put my fingers where you need it most, letting the soft, cool material get warm and wet as I rub and squeeze..."

Xander made a strange sound that was part hiss, part moan. Spike liked it, reaching around to stroke around the boy's Adam's apple.

"Yes, please, please, daddy," Xander whimpered, thighs rubbing together as he imagined everything daddy was describing."Want to be your dolly. Your pretty whore." He felt like ants were crawling all over his skin, jittery and hot and tingly all over. He wanted that so bad. Wanted to be daddy's that way. He didn't even relize he had tears in his eyes until he was rubbing his cheeks against daddy's chest, leaving his smooth skin wet and salty.

"Don't cry, pet. Good girls don't cry unless Daddy wants them to." Spike wiped some of the tears away, rubbing the wet between his fingers. Somehow, and Spike had no idea how because he was pretty sure the human body didn't work this way, Xander had told himself not to get hard, just like Spike wanted, so sincerely that he was exhibiting all the symptoms of it at warp speed without actually getting hard.

Interesting. Maybe...

"Go find Daddy the slick and then lay on your back, with your knees up."

Xander scrambled to obey, eager, and soon Spike had two lube-slick fingers working into Xander's arse.

His dick stayed soft.

And wasn't that bloody wonderful. He had a boy that would not only come on command, but would get hard on command. Even with two fingers inside him, Xander gasping, wide-eyed and sexually stimulated by it, his cock remained soft and small. Leaning down, Spike kissed the tip softly. "Good girl," he whispered. "Now, Daddy's going to touch you deep inside. It's going to feel a little strange," especially as his fingers weren't a particularly designed tool, "but it'll make you feel better, after. Keep your legs up, now."

"Yes, Daddy," Xander whispered, pulling his knees higher.

Carefully, Spike stretched his fingers until he passed Xander's prostate and was almost directly above it. He felt around a little, wanting to be sure, and then began to massage the little dent he'd found, working it hard and steady. He'd read that this felt clinical, like a prostate exam, with pressure flying all the way up to the top of the patient's head as the body began to react.

A tiny dribble of come appeared on the tip of Xander's soft, so soft cock. Spike kept going. Soon that dribble turned into a drip, steady and small, while Xander made high, whimpering noises like he thought this was supposed to be pleasurable. Maybe it was, how would Spike know? But oh, watching Xander's body stay limp while come leaked out... "There," he murmured, "that's better, isn't it? Feels much better now that your pretty balls are emptying. You're being so good, baby, trusting Daddy to see to your needs, to take care of you. It's what you need, pretty girl. You need this, baby, need Daddy to help empty your balls just like you need help to empty your bladder. It all belongs to me, baby girl. That's it, girl, let it all out, you're doing so good, so quiet and patient while Daddy takes care of you, such a good whore, a kinky, submissive bitch who knows everything about her belongs to Daddy. Every part of her. Only she's too little to take care of it, aren't you baby? You don't know how."

Spike started to breath hard through his speech, his own cock hardening despite his orgasm not so long ago. Christ, Xander looked content, staring down his own body to watch his cock leak without a single jot of sexual arousal inside of him.

Like a doll.

Xander watched wide-eyed as daddy milked him. He'd never felt anything like it, never seen anything like it, but he knew that's what it was. "Daddy?" he asked, tentative and soft, not wanting to break the moment.

"Yes, baby?" Daddy's voice was sweet like honey, washing over him in soft waves.

"Can't we do this always?" Xander asked, feeling dreamy and drowsy.

Daddy's laughter made Xander smile back at him. "What do you mean, luv? Told you we would, and Daddy never lies to his sweet princess, his good little slut."

"I know," Xander said, agreeing, of course. "I mean, you said... you said you bought something, a toy or something to use," he said, trying to remember the conversation from the bath, but his memory was jumbled with the whirl of sensation that left him confused. "But I like your hands. Want daddy's hands in me, milking me, not a toy or a m-machine or something." He pouted.

Nothing too impersonal, then. But Spike liked impersonal, too, so he shook his head. "No, pet. It'll go faster, easier with the proper tools. I'll do this sometimes, don't you worry your silly, slutty head about that. But I'd rather it was done proper." For one thing, Spike was a little afraid of damage -- what he was doing wasn't exactly as simple as gripping the boy's dick, controlling aim and flow. If he did this wrong, he'd hurt Xander in ways that could limit their activities which was just bloody well not one.

Xander pouted a little, face open and lax with contentment. He liked it, then. Or maybe he knew Spike liked it, so he did too, but that amounted to the same thing as far as Spike was concerned. As the flow rate began to slow and the dribble became dripping, Spike leaned down and licked over the head of Xander's cock until nothing more came out. "Your clit tastes so good, baby," he whispered. Xander hummed at the compliment, otherwise unmoving.

Spike withdrew his fingers, carefully wiping them on Xander's skin before crawling to the top of the bed and getting himself on his back. His dick stood practically straight up, throbbing with borrowed blood and heat while Spike breathed shallow, wobbly, unnecessary breaths. "Baby," he murmured. "Look, baby, how much I love taking care of you. See that? You do that, love. Letting Daddy care for you, control you -- you make me so hard, baby. And what do eager bitches do when their Daddy's are hard?" Spike stared at Xander's mouth: he wanted to fuck it.

"Anything their daddies want," Xander said, scooting down low so that he could stare up at daddy's cock, licking his lips. "But if they're greedy, hungry sluts like me, daddy, they suck. They suck and suck and let daddy fuck their slutty mouths." Xander said, practically tasting daddy already. "Can I, daddy? Please?" He asked, boldly swiping the tip of his tongue along daddy's shaft and moaning with want.

"Only if they're very good girls," Spike said with a wicked grin -- and then gasped. Bloody hell, Xander was getting good at fellatio. No messing about this time, no teasing licks and kisses. Just sucking, powerful, as continuous as a breathing mammal could manage, sliding up and down like a bloody hoover, tongue lashing at all the right hot spots.

Spike groaned -- sort of maybe more than a groan, actually -- head falling back in relief. Xander was content to do all the work, Spike knew, would apply suction and talent and eagerness until Spike spilled in his mouth the way Xander had spilled all over his body, only with a whole lot more enjoyment.

But that's not what he wanted. He started thrusting, the muscles of his buttocks tight until Xander got a hand on them, kneading, fucking into that hot, sweet mouth, like cinnamon and chili peppers sending sparks all through his body.

"S-stop," he managed after a moment. "On your -- on your back, baby. Head against the top of the bed. Gonna fuck your face. Fuck you until you choke on my cock, my come."

"Yes," Xander hissed, scrambling to get into position. "Fuck your baby's mouth, daddy. Use me like the pussy I am. Daddy's own personal come dump. Want to choke on it, daddy. Want to feel your come filling me, choking me until all I can breathe is you." Xander babbled right up until his head was in position, and then he opened his mouth as wide as possible and tried to relax his throat, waiting.

Daddy didn't take long. He was sliding in seconds after Xander was in position, thrusting fast and hard. He could feel the head of daddy's cock pressing against his throat, could feel it filling him and cutting off his air. He tried not to really choke, tried not to do anything that would ruin the feeling for daddy, but he couldn't help gagging just a little, tears springing to his eyes and falling quietly down his cheeks.

Spike had one hand firmly planted on the wall but hey, vampire and all that. So he suction-cupped one hand off and used it to cup Xander's face, angling him a little bit better and rubbing his thumb over the tears that tracked his cheeks. "Hurting you?" he grunted. He was fucking fast, hard, vicious thrusts that sometimes scraped over teeth not quite covered in time. Spike felt the pain in his balls, tingling and pleasant.

Xander couldn't talk, not with his Daddy's dick in his mouth, but his eyes widened in way that Spike read as no, before the inevitable but I will if you want began to leek through.

Right, then. Spike laughed, fast, breathless, and fucked even harder. "Then don't. Don't cry," he panted. His back burned in the best of ways. "Daddy likes that, that you can't deep-throat yet. Gonna, gonna teach you. Gonna like teaching you to take, take a fucking bottle down your throat if Daddy wants you to. S'just. Oh, fuck, yes, that's it. Suck my cock, you fucking bitch. Take it, take Daddy's come down your tongue, your throat. Beg for it."

Xander whimpered, wishing he could say the words aloud - please, daddy, yes, daddy. Fuck my face. Fuck me hard, take me, use me. My mouth, my pussy. Just daddy's fuck toy. Daddy's fucking doll, a whore to use whenever he needs. - but he couldn't, so he whimpered and moaned and sucked.

He used his hands, too, to pleasure daddy. Cupping his balls, massaging them. Pressing a finger to that section of skin just under the sac and rubbing. But daddy was fucking faster and harder and Xander couldn't really do much. So, he cupped daddy's ass and massaged his cheeks, occasionally rubbing over daddy's hole, hoping that it felt good.

The first tentative swipe of Xander's fingers places were eager, pretty submissives shouldn't be without permission had Spike growling, then roaring in a low, sort of twisted way, as he fucked and fucked, slamming Xander's head against the wall as much as the pillow until he came with a low, aching sound that had Xander shivering with pleasure even before he tasted Spike's come.

Panting, Spike stayed where he was for a long time.

Xander, obedient, swallowed him down, licked him clean, and then massaged what little dribbles made it over his chin. He kept lightly sucking on Spike, letting it slip free of his mouth to lick like a kitten might, watching carefully in case Spike was too sensitive post-orgasm. He wasn't. It felt good.

Eventually, though, Spike slumped to one side, toppling onto the bed with a sigh of contentment. Oh, hell yeah. "Very good, sweetheart," he purred, scritching over Xander's stomach with absent affection. "You're turning into quite the proficient cocksucker."

Xander glowed with pride. "Thank you, Daddy."

"Go get us under the covers. Brush your teeth, then come back to bed. Daddy wants a nice, warm body pillow to wrap around." And fuck again, later. Spike liked waking a sleepy, barely conscious Xander and fucking him raw.

"Yes, daddy," Xander said, eager to do daddy's bidding. He hurried to the bathroom and got out his toothbrush and paste, careful to brush his teeth the way Willow had taught him all those years ago. He still counted the strokes, too, remembering how earnest Willow had been when she'd taught him the proper way to brush.

From the moment they'd first met, Xander had looked to Willow for things like that. Willow always had all the answers. She always knew what was right and what to do.

Growing up, Xander hadn't really had any need to question her knowledge or authority over him. But now, now he had Spike. And Spike knew just as much, if not more than Willow, about what Xander should do and what would make him happy.

Xander had never felt so good... so warm and loved and cared for, as he had these last few days.

He rinsed his mouth, a little disappointed that he'd had to wash out the taste of daddy, but not really minding since it was what daddy wanted.

Then he hurried back into the bedroom, jumping onto the bed like he had when he was a child. Giggling a little as he pulled up the covers to scramble beneath and snuggle up next to his daddy.

"I'm back," he said, unnecessarily. "And all minty fresh!" he said, giving daddy an exaggerated smile so he could see all of Xander's teeth.

Spike raised an eyebrow. "well, you don't need caps, at least," he said, adding a slow smile to keep Xander from taking it the wrong way. "How do you want to sleep, baby? Want Daddy on your stomach, wrapped around you so your head is near Daddy's cock? Or do you want to curl up in Daddy's arms like the little dolly you are? Pick one, pet. Just remember that I love waking you up for a fuck, so you need to be in some sort of accessible position."

"Daddy's arms," Xander said promptly, wanting to know how it felt to have daddy surrounding him all night.

Quite the little romantic sod. Spike chuckled, kissing his forehead, before trundling Xander into his arms and holding tight. It was a little awkward, since Xander had about three inches and a stone on him. But Xander was easily malleable, sinking into Spike's chest with a sigh of relief, tangling himself around Spike so that Spike could hold him, comfortably.

Idly, Spike reached between them to toy with a nipple. "Good girl," he purred, pinching lightly. He yawned, too. "Ahh. You know, pet, I may get you real tits at some point. Magic 'em on, so I can titty fuck you, your tongue swiping the head of my cock with each stroke..." Mm. Pleasant dreams, that was. "Night."

Xander sighed and snuggled closer. "Night, daddy," he said, turning just enough to press a kiss to bare skin. "Love you," he said around a yawn. Xander was half asleep when a fleeting through went through his head. He hadn't come, hadn't even gotten hard. Not that last time anyway. But it didn't matter. He felt as if he had. He felt good and sated and happy. He fell asleep with his lips pressed to daddy's skin one final time.

Shadows. They were overwhelming, drifting over him like robes, gauzy and fine and ephemeral, like drapes over a window that should never be shuttered. Spike ran after the shadows, craving them, the darkness they promised. It was what he wanted, safe and lost in endless grey, pain that rose and fell like waves, crashing over him until that, too, was a new set of clothes to be worn, something else to hide in...

Spike woke shuddering, his mouth dry and throat tight from screams he wouldn't voice. Oi. He hadn't had a dream like that in... well, he couldn't remember. Dru, maybe? No, later than that. After Dru, but before the chip. Before he'd been neutered and banked, left like glowing embers of promise that couldn't ever be stoked.

Although...

Spike looked at the sleeping boy in his arms. Xander was covered in marks: most were along the level of a particularly fierce hickey, but there were bruises, too, scraps and almost-cuts that left him looking a little rough around the edges, trade that danced and bent for other's appreciation. "You are stunning," Spike whispered, tugging a curled lock closer to Xander's eyes. "Perfect, really. Old enough to know what I'm wanting, eager enough to give it -- there are words for things like you, Alexander Harris. Karma will want something in return."

He wanted to believe finding and having a pet like this was compensation for the chip. It could've been, after all -- but Spike didn't often lie to himself, not in his deepest heart of hearts.

For this, he'd give to Karma whatever the bitch wanted.

Inching down deeper into the blankets, Spike lifted Xander's arm and studied it. Strong. Sturdy. Skin darkened to an appealing shade, dusted with hair. There was muscle underneath that skin, hands that were rough from labor. "Should give you a manicure." Wouldn't that fuck with Xander's mind? Not black, of course, not like his own occasional paint jobs. Xander would get pink, with a silly frock, and panties...

Slowly, carefully, Spike brought the arm to his mouth, rubbing his lips back and forth over sleep-rich skin for a while. Then he positioned himself carefully, so damn carefully. Away from anything dangerous, so precisely chosen.

He bit. Drank. Drank deep from his boy, lost in the rich hit of heat and salt and life that glowed like the sun, almost too much for mere dead skin to contain. He drank until Xander made a soft, gasping whimper and rolled closer.

Then he stopped, licked the puncture wounds closed and went back to sleep, Xander soft and content on his shoulder.

Xander woke groggily. He ached all over, but in a good way. It was the kind of ache that reminded him with each small movement of daddy.

He could tell from the warmth of the room and the light trying to break through the drawn shades that dawn had broken hours ago. He was faintly disappointed that his daddy hadn't woken him during the night, hadn't used Xander's body, the way he'd teased he would.

But the disappointment was quickly washed away with the sweetness of waking in daddy's arms. They were curled up together, warm and tangled. Xander had curled into daddy, his head laying across daddy's shoulder.

He turned without thinking, pressing his lips to daddy's skin, over smooth shoulders and hard pecs until he reached the dark nub of daddy's nipple. He moved, opening his mouth without thinking, and began to suckle, sighing contentedly.

"Mm. Cocksucker," Spike said, warmth and fondness making the word as lovely as sweetheart. Sleep still clung to him, but Spike could push the cobwebs away without too much difficulty. Xander's head was dark and moving slightly; Spike began petting his hair, enjoying the ringing pleasure of a boy who thought he was a girl, a baby who needed a parent to give her what she needed. "Such an oral fixation, you. Like a baby, tiny and squalling, needed your Da to keep your belly full."

His free hand reached out, petting Xander's stomach before reaching down to cup his soft cock and jiggle it lightly.

"I love your clit like this. Oh, I like it hard and wet, too, like you gasping and begging for a little bit more of whatever I choose to give you. But I love that you'll do all those things with your clit small and soft, because the only pleasure you get is what I give you."

Xander moaned around the nipple in his mouth, tongue bush and lashing, before switching to the next nipple.

"Such a good bitch, a pretty, kinky slut for Daddy to own. A baby, a little girl, a sweetheart of a pet." Spike layered on the endearments, chuckling lightly. Stretching from his head to his toes felt good, too, as good as Xander's hot, welcome mouth. Absently, he reached for Xander's arm, drawing it closer for inspection: tiny marks with only a bit of bruising. Nice.

Xander pulled away long enough to rub his cheek against daddy's chest and whisper, "Love being your baby, daddy. Your girl. Love being your sweetheart." For some reason he was blushing as he took daddy's nipple again, sucking and biting, just enough to sting, but never enough to hurt. He only bit because he knew daddy liked it.

The only thing missing... the only thing he wished his daddy would tell him was that daddy loved him as much as Xander loved daddy. But he'd never ask, never say anything. He was happy and he didn't want anything to ruin that.

"I know you do. All you want is to be someone's dolly, cuddled and loved." And probably torn to pieces, Spike thought, tracing his fingers over the bite marks. They were scabbing nicely. "Need to be somebody's, don't you? Good thing you're mine, then, innit? My pretty doll to love and use."

Spike gripped Xander's chin, forcibly raising him up for a good morning kiss. "Feel weak at all?" he asked, scrapping his teeth over a lightly stubbled jaw. "Woozy? Need to get you on an iron supplement."

"Huh?" Xander said, confused. He tiled his face up, wanting more kisses. "I still feel sleepy, if that's what you mean. Like I only just went to bed." He realized belatedly that it sounded as if he hadn't enjoyed sleeping with daddy, in daddy's arms. "But I didn't! I mean, I slept really good. I loved sleeping here. With you."

"Hush, love, that's not what I'm worried about. I know you'll like anything I ask of you." Sleepy wasn't a good sign, but maybe there were other reasons for it. He'd been putting the boy through his paces, work and sex and rough sex: could account for it. "You have any orange juice about? You need a cup. And maybe some sugar cookies."

"I have juice, but I don't have any cookies." Xander thought about it for a minute. "Oh! But I have twinkies. I like twinkies," he said and daddy grinned at him, ruffling his hair. He leaned into the touch, loving the affectionate way that daddy was always touching him.

Spike was pretty sure they were having two very different conversations right about then. Something innocent and uncomprehending in Xander's eyes, turning the rich brown playful. Childlike.

Right, then. He could work with that.

"Kitchen, pet," he ordered. "Juice for you and then breakfast. Eggs. Bacon, maybe." Was there iron in bacon? It wasn't like Spike had ever cared about this before, and while part of it felt nice, taking care of someone again, he was out of his depth and he knew it.

Fortunately, while Xander rummaged through the kitchen like an eager little slave, the downstairs intercom buzzed. "I've got it," he said, waving Xander off. The way his face had just crumpled, terrified of the world intruding -- they'd have to do something about that. Eventually.

"That you, Spike?" a rough voice asked when Spike toggled the intercom on.

"S'me. You got what I ordered?"

"Special delivery."

Good. Leaning forward, Spike hollered something about being right back and said, "Down in ten."

His jeans felt tight and uncomfortable as he shucked them on, foregoing the shirt. It wasn't like he cared with that weasly demon Karach used as his errand boy thought of him. And this early on a Saturday, nobody would be out and about in the apartment building.

The transaction went smoothly, no sidelong looks or comments. Karach paid well and his people were as loyal and professional as demons ever got. Spike tipped him generously, earning a smile that was a lot toothier than a human would've noticed, and brought his loot back upstairs.

Anxiety blossomed in Xander's chest, making it feel tight and achy. His heart was hammering, even though he didn't recognize the voice. He knew it wasn't one of the girls, so he felt a little better, but he still didn't like the idea of anyone finding out. Not because he was ashamed of daddy, no. He might still feel some residual embarrassment about himself, but never daddy.

He just knew that no one would understand. That they'd try to stop it, and Xander wasn't sure what he'd do then. If they cornered him.

He had a feeling he'd fight.

The door opened again and Xander felt relief rush through him when he heard only daddy's footsteps.

He was just turning to pour the scrambled eggs he'd made onto a plate when daddy walked back into the kitchen.

All of it. Lovely. Purchasing from a demon was risky, since no one could keep the buggering chip quiet so everybody wanted to talk to him and only some of them were nice enough to be snide about it. But Karach had everything a horny demon with a human pet could want and the price had been unbeatable.

Not that he'd worried about price.

"C'mere, baby," he said, sitting down at the table. A plate of eggs steamed invitingly and Spike snatched a wobbly lump of it with one hand, the other fiddling with the packaging. Ah, there it went, open.

Xander looked like he was seconds from having a panic attack. Pretty, if it wasn't so frustrating. "Stop worrying," he ordered. "You've done nothing wrong, nobody knows it's you I've taken since the slimy thing won't care who I'm with so long as the color of my money's good. He won't blab about it, either. We've known each other two long." Nearly sixty years, him and Dru had purchased from Karach.

"I'm not ashamed, Daddy," Xander lied, since yeah, he was. Not about being Spike's, of course -- but ashamed of what other people's reactions might be, how they'd take it, of course he was worried about that. He was still such a bitty thing, mentally.

"I know, love," Spike said and kissed him quiet. "Now, I want you to stand very still for me."

The sheath was leather, but lined with something supple that wouldn't be quite as rough against sensitive skin. The strings at the bottom floated and swung and Spike knew without tugging that they could be used as a ring, tightening around the boy's sac. He didn't want that, yet, so he just looped them together once he was certain it was secure.

It was beautiful. Dark black leather with a sheen to it hugged the length of Xander's cock, flaring out attractively over the head with a tiny slit that Spike could widen if he chose. He couldn't help but touch, smoothing his fingers until they went from cool leather to soft, hot skin, crinkly hair providing yet another bit of texture to marvel at. "This is a sheath, baby," he said. "It's pretty, to make your clit look good. It can be used as a ring, too, to stop you from coming when I feel like it. Does it feel good, baby? It looks good. Makes you look edible." And his fingers traced up to Xander's arm, rubbing over the bite-marks without thought.

"It's... different daddy," Xander said, never having even seen anything like it before. "But I like to look pretty for daddy."

Xander really did. It gave him a little thrill to hear daddy say things like that, to call Xander a pretty girl and to tell him how fancy and dressed up and beautiful he was going to be when daddy was through with him.

"When will my dresses come, daddy?" Xander kept imagining what they would feel like against his skin, silk and satin. Kept picturing the way daddy's eyes would light up, and his cock would harden. God, Xander felt arousal skate up his spine and shivered.

Daddy's fingers were teasing along his arm, and daddy's words came back to him. He wanted to use the sheathe as a ring? To stop Xander from coming? But he just had to tell Xander not to, and he wouldn't Xander would never disobey, not on purpose. It made him wonder whether daddy wanted him to disobey, whether he wanted Xander to have another spanking, or some other punishment.

Xander never wanted to disobey, never wanted to disappoint daddy, but if daddy wanted him too... He let daddy's touch tease him, let the spark of arousal he felt flare into something hotter, something solid. He felt his clit twitch in the sheathe and he moaned.

Spike stared at the cock that twitched in front of him. He was glad Xander was enjoying his pressie, of course, but he'd caught a flash of... of what, of calculation in Xander's eyes right before the physical signs made manifest. Of intent and maybe a little determination.

He had no idea what the hell it meant.

Casually, he pinched the base of Xander's cock roughly, smirking when Xander's eyes went pain-wide but he made no other noise. "Stop that, girl. You've been so good for me, getting wet only on command. Don't want to ruin the trend, do you?"

"No, Daddy, I won't, Daddy!"

"I know you won't. Eat your breakfast and make sure you drink up all your juice." There was blood in Karach's box of goodies, too, and Spike began stacking that in the boy's freezer. "Two cups, at least."

"Yes, Daddy," Xander said, eating dutifully. It wasn't hard since breakfast was his favorite meal of the day. It always had been, though he'd gotten out of the practice of cooking a hot breakfast while he'd been with Anya. He wasn't sure why. She wasn't a breakfast person, and Xander had always molded himself to his partner's wishes.

He'd always done what Cordy had wanted, then Anya. If he thought about it hard enough, he'd admit that he'd done the same with Buffy and Willow, too. He worked hard to make everyone else happy, hoping it would make them happy with him.

He drank down the first cup of juice and refilled it, making sure his Daddy saw him.

Putting on a bit of a show, was he? Part of Spike wanted to quash that curious bit of willfulness in a pet that seemed to be relieved to shelve his own wants in favor of someone -- anyone -- else's. But the rest of him was too bloody amused that this was how Xander was currently choosing to rebel: by getting hard and making sure Spike paid him close attention.

Adorable, really.

Heating up a half-mug of his own blood, since it wouldn't be good to get used to living off of Xander who was a delicious, nummy little treat but still living, Spike sipped it casually until Xander had finished his breakfast, then yanked the boy into his lap for long, slow, blood-flavored kiss. Spike made sure to lick away any traces of salt in the boy's mouth. He wasn't sure if he was trying to shock Xander, or condition him to accepting this, too, or if he was just that lazy. Maybe a bit of all three.

Absently, Spike fondled the leather-encased cock in his lap, running his fingers and up and down the texture-rich leather. "You feel so good, pretty slut," he murmured, kissing down Xander's throat, inhaling the scent of a contented, sex-sated toy, warm skin like heaven against his cold, dead shell. "Not still hungry, are you? You've got to tell me, love, the human things you need: eating, sleeping, such like." He loved how Xander glowed with good health and didn't want to ruin that -- and he would, if he wasn't careful. He'd been better at taking care of Dru's pressies than she was, but feeding a bird on occasion was very different than a boy. Or even a girl. "May not always give them to you, but you tell me about them, pretty, pretty girl. Daddy needs to take care of you, don't I? Make sure his girl stays healthy and strong."

"Yes, Daddy,' Xander said, rocking up into Daddy's hand. He could feel himself getting hard, and somewhere in the back of his mind alarms were going off. He wasn't supposed to get hard unless Daddy said so, but something inside him felt like testing, teasing, wanting to see whether Daddy was really telling that truth. That he might punish Xander, but wouldn't leave. The thought almost made Xander stop, almost made him push down the feelings of arousal, but he didn't. "But only need your cock now, Daddy. Want to be full, really full, want your cock so hard and thick inside me. Will you fuck me, Daddy? Give your little slut what she needs?"

And there was that calculating bit, only this time it came through Xander's voice, deliberately coy and leading. About time, really: Xander was the most eagerly submissive bitch he'd ever seen, but there had to be some sort of boundary-testing. It was normal, part of the fun, really. And if it hadn't shown up, Spike probably would've started worrying. Probably.

Or at least looking for more signs of a spell, since that much subsummation so quickly was just a little freaky.

Still kissing, Spike worked his way back up to Xander's mouth, kissing him wet and sweet -- and then bit down hard enough that he punctured Xander's lower lip.

Xander cried out, not expecting the pain, and gave Spike a wounded look before remembering that, oh right, he was supposed to enjoy that sort of thing.

Spike bit him again, this time on the chest, and he drew blood. "No," he said clearly and a little coldly. "I won't fuck you now. And if you let yourself get hard -- oh, yes, pet, I can see that you're letting yourself -- I'll punish you and you won't like it, that I can promise. You think I haven't spent the last century fucking and killing whatever I wanted without learning how to make it hurt, have you?" He met Xander's eyes squarely. "Be a good girl and you won't have to find out what I mean."

And with that, he rose and went back to Karach's box, sorting through all the various toys within. He kept his back to Xander, no matter how the boy moved to watch him. Xander was really very simple. He didn't have to hurt him.

Just ignore him.

Xander felt his chest go hot and tight, twisting into painful knots. Daddy wasn't leaving, but he was angry, disappointed. Xander's eyes felt wet with worry and regret.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," he said quietly, moving closer, but careful not to touch or do anything else disobedient. He was breathing heavily, anxiety and panic creeping in. "'M sorry. Won't do it again. Be good. So good for you, Daddy. Be Daddy's good girl. Anything Daddy wants. His sweet little slut." Xander's voice bordered on a whine, low and thready and pleading.

Spike put the toys away and then the clothes, then did a quick pass through the apartment to see if there was anything he missed. He very carefully made no moves to the door or his jacket, but neither did he once look at Xander the entire time. Try to play games with him, did he? Spike was a ruddy master of games, and it was time Xander learned just how outmatched he was.

After he ran out of things to do, Spike settled onto the sofa for a bout of telly. Xander knelt on the floor next to him, skin shiny with desperation, hyperventilating as he made soft promises to be whatever Spike wanted of him, do whatever he was told. He meant them, too; Spike knew that particular tang of terror too well to think it was an act. But Xander had tried to assert himself and Spike wanted him well and truly broken underneath his heel. Or maybe that was his bit? Stupid animal metaphors.

When Xander's voice grew loud enough that Spike couldn't hear the tv, he muted it and stared at the pictures flashing back and forth soundlessly. "Shut up," he said, low and quiet and firm.

Xander hiccuped. He didn't stop talking, he was too upset for that, but the words quieted down to something less distracting, at least.

Spike unmuted the television.

Xander wanted to curl up at Daddy's feet and cry. He was stupid. So stupid. Always messing up. Why had he done it? He hadn't wanted to be naughty, hadn't wanted to be bad. But he'd known that Daddy would be angry and he'd done it anyway.

Without even meaning to, Xander curled up in a fetal position, his head resting on Daddy's feet. Tears were streaming silent down his cheeks as he repeated over and over again "Sorry, sorry, sorry."

It was like pretty music, really. Poor stupid little boy, so certain that he could finally assert a bit of his own. Eventually, and Xander was well lost in his own delusions by that point, Spike lifted the whole tight knot of him onto the sofa, turning his face into Spike's thigh. Stroking his hair was easy, even nice, and Spike let himself indulge in a slow, gradual drag of fingers through Xander's soft hair, over and over.

Eventually, the tears stopped. He wasn't aware precisely, yet, but he knew that he was closer to Spike, knew that he was being touched in approving manner. The silent communication lessened the downward spiral, eased him towards something a little less overwhelming as a depressed stupor.

When he was certain that, if left alone, Xander would sleep, he said as soft as a spring's warming breeze, "Who am I?"

Daddy," Xander sobbed the word softly, tilting his head toward the soft touch, needing more. "My Daddy. Please, 'm sorry, Daddy."

He didn't say anything for a while. Just stroked Xander's hair, occasionally rubbing over his naked shoulders, while the tv droned on and on about things Spike normally would've found fascinating -- it was Shark Week, after all. He'd always had a soft spot for anything with that many teeth.

"Who are you?" And, since they were two different questions, "What are you?"

"'M Daddy's girl, Daddy's little slut," Xander said, feeling sort of numb. "Just a fuck toy, Daddy's fuck toy."

Xander curled further into Daddy's lap, needing to feel him everywhere, needing to know that he was still there, still taking care of Xander. "Love you, Daddy. Need you. 'M yours, Daddy. Not anything, not anything with my Daddy."

"That's right, baby, you're mine. You're my living blow-up doll. Does a doll dictate when she gets wet?"

Xander shivered violently and made a noise that was some sort of vehement no; the actual words were impossible to hear, with his mouth buried in Spike's stomach.

"No, that's right. She doesn't do anything, does she, but what her Daddy tells her. That's what she is, after all. A baby. A pretty doll to be posed and fucked and used. She doesn't have needs. She has obedience."

Xander curled up tighter and tighter with each phrase, mumbling frantic, whispering repetition. He was practically near a trance, at this point, and Spike knew every word he spoke was being sucked into Xander's mind like a sponge searching for more water. To reinforce that, Spike carefully widened the circle of his petting, stroking over Xander's back and his arse, even letting his fingers brush over the boy's hole as a reminder: every part of him belonged to Spike. No exceptions.

At this point, the doorbell rang.

As far as timing went, it was perfectly brilliant.

Xander went rigid, terrified, and Spike smacked his arse sharply. "On the floor, bitch," he ordered. "On your knees, head down, hands linked behind your back. I want you in that position when I get back."

Spike nearly licked his lips as he threw on clothes suitable for going into public hallways. This had to be the clothes he'd ordered, special rush delivery -- including the silky, shimmery fabric that'd be Xander's diaper. He knew the boy was reluctant to take things that far. Well, he wouldn't argue about it now, would he?

Xander was terrified. His whole body trembled as he strained to hear who was at the door. He was careful not to move, though, careful to keep his position exactly as Daddy had ordered.

All he could hear were softly murmured words through the door because Daddy had stepped out into the hallway. God, what if it was Giles?

Giles had never stopped by his apartment before, but what if he'd needed Xander's help with something? What if he'd just been in the neighborhood? What if... what if...

Xander started to cry again, silent gasping sobs as the fear shook through him.

What if it was one of the girls? Willow?Checking to see if he was feeling better. That was exactly something she would do? What would Daddy tell her?

Except, Xander knew Daddy was smart. Daddy would know what to say to protect him, them. Daddy said he loved his girl, that he would take care of her. That meant that Daddy would make sure that Xander could stay with him, that he wouldn't get taken away.

Some of the fear ebbed, but the tears still streamed down his cheeks. His nose was stuffy and he couldn't stop sniffling. Every muscle in his body tightened with anxiety when he heard the door open and close again.

Juggling boxes was awkward, but Spike got them down on the sofa. Then he casually backhanded Xander across his wet, tear-stained mouth. "Did you think I'd turn you over to your girls? Let Giles and take your miserable hide away?" Let himself get staked in the process? "You're mine. I take care of what's mine. Stop fretting over things you can't control and trust me." Another hit, this time to make the left cheek as red as the right. "You do trust me, yeah?"

Xander looked like a bloody trained puppy, falling over in eagerness to nod and snivel and show that yes, he did, he really, really did, honest, Daddy, honest!

Spike smacked him again just to get him to shut up. And because it was fun. "Quiet. I want you to crawl into the bedroom, onto the bed and then lay on your back. Arms up like your chained and they better not fucking move when I get there, bitch, or I'll strap 'em down till they bleed. Pull your legs up so your cunny's nice and exposed. Now!"

Xander scrambled onto his hands and knees toward the bedroom. He was still sniffling and sniveling and he hated it. He wanted to stop, wanted to be good and strong and perfect for his Daddy, but he wasn't. He was just a screwup. Always messing up. No good loser.

He hurried onto the bed, finding a small pillow and thrusting it under his hips so that he could get his pussy nice and wide and open for his Daddy. Then he raised his arms and waited, trying to blink away the last of the tears, but they kept on coming.

His cheek stung, too, where daddy had hit him, but Xander was glad. He liked the feel of it, liked knowing that it was from his Daddy and that Daddy still cared enough to discipline him.

Opening the boxes was like trying to drown himself in taffeta. "Next time," he muttered, "be a bit more choosy." Still, it was easy enough to find what he wanted, gather it up and bring it to the bedroom.

"Still crying, I see," he told Xander, disappointment making his voice heavy. "This is how I know you're not a boy, pet, how I know you could never carry off a cock. You cry and whimper like a girl. Like a bitch." He made the word into an insult, caustic and cruel, instead of the faux-endearment he usually used it.

Xander flinched but didn't otherwise move.

"Bint. Think you can challenge me? You're nothing but a stupid, silly girl. A baby who doesn't know anything. So I'm going to treat you like one." So threatened, Spike knelt between Xander's legs and began.

First was the sheath: Spike tied up the cock-ring part of it, quick and careful but not minding so much if he caught Xander's flesh in a pinch before smoothing it out. He didn't tie it nearly as tight as he wanted to, but since he liked Xander having a pair of bollocks... castration was never as much fun as it sounded. Next came the lube, applied quickly and without any of the teasing Spike had previously indulged in, before a thin, narrow vibrator was pushed into Xander's pussy and flicked to low.

Xander's wide eyes understood this was the punishment part. His cock stayed soft and small inside the leather.

After that, Spike pushed at Xander's knees and levered out four quick, sharp spanks with the back of his hand. "Just a reminder. You belong to me, every bit of you. You don't blood well exist. There is no more Xander. This is just Spike's fuck-doll."

Not that Spike really wanted that. But a punishment was a punishment.

Next came the diaper. Spike went with the flimsy, plastic kind, wrinkling his nose as he fastened it around Xander's hips saying, "Since you can't be trusted not to mess yourself, even, stupid baby that you are," and then a dress.

This was actually a very pretty dress, sized for a man as grown as Xander, with a low, scoop neck for easy tit-playing and a light, flimsy skirt that would swish around Xander's hips. "Sit up. Daddy needs to get you dressed."

He looked gorgeous in it, once it was on. Yanking Xander to his feet, he had the boy primp and turn, showing off his new clothing.

He looked ridiculous. A grown man wearing a bulky, awkward diaper, visible even under the diaphanous gown that didn't make him at all look like a girl, just emphasizing how very not masculine he was supposed to be. His face was still swollen and red from crying so much and he was sniffling near constantly.

It was perfect. "Go look in the mirror, pet. I was going to save this for when I wanted to reward you, but since I wanted to see what you'd look like in your pretty frock, I'll just have to punish you some other way, to make up for it."

Xander headed for the closet, opening the door wide so he could check himself in the wall length mirror that hung inside. When he did finally see what Daddy had put him in, and how he looked, Xander's breath caught.

He had to actually think about not getting hard.

"Oh, Daddy," Xander breathed, running a hand down the front of the dress, silk and satin and shiny in the overhead lights. "Am I... am I pretty, Daddy?" Xander asked, tentative and shy as he watched himself twirl and preen in front of the mirror. "Am I a pretty slut for you? Do you... do you like it, Daddy?" Xander asked, really wishing he could ask if Daddy liked him.

The vibrator was still buzzing in his pussy, but it was a distant hum, background noise and a sensation so far removed that Xander paid it no mind. He was consumed with the pretty picture in the mirror.

He touched his red cheeks, blinking away the last of his tears. He didn't want to get his new dress dirty. He couldn't cry all over it. He wondered if Daddy had bought him makeup, too? If he were going to pretty up Xander like a little china doll.

If he'd known how Xander would react... but then, he had known. It was why he'd ordered the frippery in the first place.

"Lift up your skirts, baby. I want you to see what else I gave you." The plastic diaper distended the fabric a little, but Spike knew Xander wasn't seeing that. He was too enchanted with the pretty girl in the mirror, the one who had hair all over her chest and shoulders that were twice as broad as her hips. So, basically, not a girl at all.

Xander would swear to his death that he was one, though. Interesting. Had he always wanted to be a cosseted princess, or was that something Spike had forced on him.

While he mused, Xander was busily bunching the fabric around his waist, examining the plastic that was wrapped around his hips. He touched the mirror lightly. "I'm a baby."

"That's right, you are. A pretty baby dolly, with pink cheeks and pretty eyes. I love how you look in your frock, pet. Let it drop, swing a bit again. Yes, that's right. You like dressing up for me, don't you? Like looking like a pretty girl. I like it, too, pet. You look coy and sweet, too innocent to know how to do it right but trying anyway. A pretty slut for me to play dress up with, tart you up or down however I like."

Spike watched carefully and yeah, it was all right. Xander was panting with eager happiness of a decidedly sexual flavor, but his cock remained quiet. Good. Time for him to get a bit of pleasure, then.

"Press your hand down on your clit, baby. Do you feel all of that? Your dress, your diaper, your pretty sheath? It feels good, doesn't it, against your clit. All that material I've given you, all of the things it means about it. It makes your clit wet and hard, doesn't it? Go on, pet. Rub against your clit, put on a show for me. Let me know how much you like my pressies."

"Daddy," Xander moaned as he pressed on his clit, rocking his hips forward to rub against his palm. He wasn't sure what Daddy meant by a show, so Xander just let the arousal course through him, let himself feel it, let himself harden and flush and moan. He cupped himself, squeezing rhythmically as he moved his hips to imagined music.

He released his clitty with a groan, running his hands over his belly and up his chest until he could rub and pinch his nipples through the silky fabric. He knew he could pull his dress down, could touch his bare titties if he wanted, but he liked the way they felt through the satiny material.

"Feels so good, Daddy," Xander moaned. "I feel so pretty, so little." His diaper was rubbing against his ass, bulky and plush. Each time he felt it rub against him, another bolt of arousal shot through him. It made him feel so... small and helpless, so needy.

Without thinking about it he crawled onto the bed, lying on his back with his dress up over his hips. He cupped himself again, squeezing and rubbing as he lifted his other hand to his mouth and sucked his thumb. He loved the feeling it gave him to suck and suckle, to have something filling his mouth. He wished it were Daddy's cock, but even sucking his own thumb made something inside him ease and ripple with pleasure.

Each squeeze of Xander's fingers made the plastic around his cock ripple, noisy and harsh, almost grating against the soft, sexual sounds the boy made as he sucked on his thumb. Spike was entranced by the differences, the way Xander rocked up into his own diaper, rutting against it while it squeaked and moved all around him.

"Thumb out," he ordered, roughly. "I know, baby, I know you want something to suck but not yet. Daddy'll give you what you need in a bit, but right now -- " He inhaled, cold and sharp and god, Xander was so hot for him, " -- right now, baby, I want both hands around your clit. No fingers, just knuckles and palm kneading it. Does it feel good, baby? I love the sound of it, you fucking into your diaper Does it feel strange against your skin? It shouldn't, it's what you need. Can't trust your body, can you. It's up to me to make sure you stay clean and dry and sated. That's it, baby, rub your clitty for me. Tell me what it feels like, knowing just how little you are, how much you have to trust me to take care of you. God, pet, I love taking care of you..."

"Am little. Just a little slut of a girl who needs her daddy to take care of her." Xander moaned, throwing his head back as he fucked and fucked himself against his new diaper. "Feels so good, Daddy. 'M so hot, so needy. Making myself so wet. Daddy knows what I need. Knows I'm just a baby who can't help wetting herself." Xander pressed down hard, pushing against the soft bulk of the diaper to put more pressure on his aching clit. "Please, Daddy," Xander keened, desperation and desire coloring his voice.

Xander gave a hoarse, sharp cry when Spike tweaked his nipples, body rippling with pleasure. Spike pinched again, enjoying the way his blood beat against the hard nub, then stroked down Xander's heaving stomach. "Are you wet? Is your diaper all full, baby, heavy and sodden against your bum? Fill it, girl. Come now."

And Spike ran the flat of his palm right where the edge of the diaper exposed skin, following it against with his nails.

God, Xander was gorgeous when he came. A study in browns flushed pink and lovely: skin and hair and that wide, gaping mouth as he breathed out a soundless cry, arching as he came hard into the plastic around his groin.

"Don't stop rubbing," Spike murmured as Xander finally began to relax and settle. "Tell me."

Xander bit his lip, trying to look coy and innocent the way he knew Daddy would like. He pouted, looking through his lashes at his Daddy. "'M sorry, Daddy. I wet myself. Soiled my diaper. Such a dirty slut, I am." Xander gasped, head thrown back as he rubbed over his sensitive clit.

It was getting on painful, by now. Spike licked his lips, leaning closer to watch as Xander continued to rub the soiled diaper over his own cock, hands working into the plastic almost unconsciously. He'd been told to do it, after all, so he would. No thinking required. Spike had control over Xander's limbs like the boy was a puppet, his completely.

He licked his lips again, then licked Xander's. "So dirty. Such a very bad girl, you are. That's why you have to wear one, baby. You can't be trusted so you've got to trust me, trust your Daddy to take care of you. Don't stop rubbing, baby. Tell me what it feels like, how much it hurt as your naughty, needy clit gets hard again, your body tight and eager. Keep rubbing, dirty whore, work your clit into your own wet mess and get hard again for me. Be a good girl for me."

Absently, Spike ruffled the heavy folds of the dress, letting the fabric slap lightly at Xander's thighs before petting the material in earnest, rubbing the soft silk all over Xander's skin. "Such a hot, eager bitch, getting hard again like you are." And Xander was, his cock tenting the diapers once again, despite how pained his expression was. "Dirty cunt. Rubbing your own filth against your skin and getting off on it."

God, would he? Not really a question of letting Spike do it, since if Spike told Xander to piss into the diaper and rut against it, he would, no questions asked. But would Xander really like it?

"So hard, Daddy," Xander moaned, pain and pleasure twisting him up inside. "Dirty slut. Dirty whore. Do anything to get off. Anything Daddy's wants."

Xander's wrist was getting tired from the constant motion so he pressed down tight against his clitty and started to shift his hips instead, rutting against his open palm. "So hard for you, Daddy," Xander said, body tightening with need. "Need my Daddy so bad. Filling my hungry cunt, fucking me and filling me with Daddy's hard cock. Please, Daddy?" Xander whined, clit throbbing beneath his palm as he begged his Daddy to fuck him.

He was so hard, so achy. He needed his Daddy.

It was easy to lay alongside Xander, mouth at his ear. "Is your pussy wet, baby? Are you soaked and hot inside, knowing that I could take you, could slide my hard, thick cock inside your greedy cunt any minute? Show me, baby. Take off that natty diaper and show Daddy how slick you are, how much you want Daddy filling you up inside."

Xander was red and sweaty now, tilting is head easily when Spike lipped and then sucked at his earlobe. "Yes, Daddy," he panted and oh, oh, just like a good girl, Xander carefully unfastened the diaper from his hips, lifting up so he could bunch the material around his cock, leaving his arse free. Then, oh, then, while Spike watched breathless and horny and appreciative, Xander stretched an arm out for the lube and pushed three sopping fingers inside of him.

"So wet, Daddy," he whined as he opened himself, legs high in the air, rocking with need. "My pussy, it's so wet, so hot. I've made such a mess, Daddy, all over my cunny and my clit. Daddy, please, I need you to take care of me."

That last was directed up at Spike, dark eyes wide and wistful as they met Spike's.

That little teasing bitch.

Spike growled, hurling himself against Xander's mouth and his cunt, stabbing up into his arse even as his tongue went nearly to the back of Xander's throat, fucking him with short, sharp, rough thrusts that had nothing at all to do with Xander's enjoyment. This was all about Spike sinking into something warm and wet and eagerly accepting, a tight, hot arse that clung to his cock like it really was as greedy as Spike told Xander he was, like each slide out was too much and Xander wanted him inside for always.

He had no idea where the vibrator was, he realized dimly while he snarled down at Xander, biting his mouth and his chin, sucking on his neck without breaking skin. He had no idea how Xander even got his fingers out in time. All he knew was that Xander was his, utter and complete, arching up into every thrust, muscles working over his cock like a trained courtesan as he took everything Spike gave him and whimpered and whined for more.

"Fuck me, Daddy," he would murmur between kisses, "fuck your little girl, your dirty, greedy whore. Daddy's cock is so hard inside me, it hurts. Hurts when you rub my clitty and push inside, Daddy, it hurts so much." He was still rubbing the diaper over his cock, the plastic rough against Spike's stomach; he didn't seem upset about the hurting, though, not if the way he panted out blissfully was any indication. "I've been bad, Daddy, made a mess, ruined the pretty gift you gave me and it hurts, oh, Daddy, Daddy, it hurts when you fuck me, it hurts so much, make it hurt, please, Daddy, fuck my hot, greedy pussy, take me over and over because I'm yours, Daddy, you're girl. You're fuck toy."

Spike was in gameface by now, snarling and unintelligible but he remembered very, very clearly saying, "Oh, Christ, I love you," as he came in pulses so hard that his whole body quaked with the release before he collapsed over Xander and just lay there, panting. "Come, bitch," he murmured into Xander's neck. "Scream with it."

And oh, Xander did.

Xander's throat felt raw.

He was clinging to Daddy, unable to let loose. Daddy loved him. He'd said so. He'd shouted the words as he'd taken Xander's pussy, as he'd filled him up with come and pleasure and love.

He ached all over, but Xander loved it. Loved feeling sore and raw. He wanted to feel this way always, so that even if his Daddy wasn't with him, he was.

Daddy was still inside him, too. Xander squeezed his pussy rhythmically, counting seconds and then squeezing again. He liked the feel of it, but he also knew that it would feel good to Daddy and that was all that mattered anyway.

He sniffled, emotion choking him a little. He snuggled closer, pressing his face to Daddy's neck. "Love you, Daddy. Love you so much. Your girl. Always. Love you. Love you," he kept repeating the words, rocking against Daddy's hips and massaging Daddy's cock with his pussy.

When Spike finally reconnected with the world again, he found himself lazily rocking into Xander's arse and sucking on his neck. Hard. The kind of sucking that Xander usually indulged in, mindless and deep, all about the repetitive feel of his mouth over something, than because he actually wanted to do it.

Detaching carefully -- his mouth, anyway -- Spike studied the bruise. It was several inches in circumference and a nice, rich purple color. "Gonna tattoo you here, I think." His voice was dry and creaking, belonging to someone else. "Something Romany, maybe. Says your mine forever. My girl. My pet." His love, too, but he wasn't saying that again.

Especially since Xander was repeating it with the same mindless quality with which Spike had been sucking. It was almost a little frightening how Xander promised constant fidelity, his pussy still contracting pleasantly around Spike's cock.

"Mm." He settled back down, enjoying this odd massage and the way Xander didn't once complain that Spike was too heavy. He ran his hands up and down Xander's sides, enjoying the slick glide of the dress and the heated skin underneath. "Are you fucking yourself on me, baby? Still that horny, after coming twice? All right then, if you want. Do what you want to, to make me feel good, baby. Pick something."

Pick something? Xander wanted whatever Daddy wanted. He looked at his Daddy, trying to gauge the right answer. His eyes roamed Daddy's face, beautiful and stark, he wanted to trace his fingers over Daddy's cheekbones and kiss his lips.

Something inside Xander came to life, like a switch being thrown and he reached out. Daddy had said that he could do whatever he wanted to make Daddy feel good. And Xander knew that Daddy liked kisses.

He cupped Daddy's cheek, just brushing Daddy's lips with his own, even as he continued to fuck himself on Daddy's cock. "Want to kiss you, Daddy. Tease you with my tongue while you fuck my hungry cunt. Want to please you with all of me. My hands, my pussy, my mouth," he said the words as he trailed kisses all along Daddy's jaw and then back to his mouth, taking him in a deep, drugging kiss that left Xander a little dazed.

"Mmph," Spike moaned, "good girl." He didn't say much after that, though, because Xander was intent on doing what he could to please and Spike was more than happy to let him. Xander kissed like it was how he could get air, deep kisses that left Spike's mind and mouth sparking with pleasure. They rolled, Spike was unsure who initiated it, so that Spike was up against the pillows, Xander grinding and squeezing as they kissed and kissed and kissed and kissed.

It was good. Spike loved the attention, never fear, but he liked that Xander had figured this out, how much Spike loved to lie back and be pleasured: arse tight on his cock and a tongue sucking on his own, warm fingers on his cheeks, his neck...

It was the closest they'd had to making love since this whole thing started. Spike liked the irony that they did so with Xander forcing himself hard -- and he better not be getting hard a third time, so soon -- wearing a dress and diaper squashed messily between them.

Mmm.

"Make you feel good," Xander said, grinding himself slowly on Daddy's cock. "'Cause Daddy makes me feel so good. Cause Daddy takes care of me and loves me. Cause I'm Daddy's greedy baby girl, all his."

Xander felt almost mindless with pleasure and love and need. He wanted more than anything to hear Daddy say the words again, to know that Daddy loved him, always and completely. But, even if Daddy never said it, even if all he ever did was take care of Xander and kiss him and fuck him, Xander would know.

That's all Xander needed.

"So good to me, Daddy," Xander said, melting against Daddy as they kissed again, tongues teasing each other in a slow slide of pleasure.

"That's right, baby, I am. I dress you up in pretty frocks, I give you all the cock and come you need... such a good girl for me. Love taking care of you, pet," Spike panted into Xander's mouth. "Love coming in your hot cunny, filling you up. Love you, sweet and perfect for me."

He felt drugged, blissful and floating as Xander worked over him. He felt... content, a lump of sparking nerves, his mind nearly blank as Xander squeezed and started bouncing, kissing him until Spike had no idea who was controlling it, him or Xander or...

He came with a sigh, drifting into a stupor that wasn't quite sleep. "Cl'n us up," he slurred, curling onto his side. "Thn c'm'b."

"Yes, Daddy," Xander said, sliding slowly off Daddy's cock and scooting down so that he could take Daddy into his mouth. He licked at the come and the lube, drinking up every drop until his Daddy was clean and purring softly. The sound sent vibrations up and down Xander's spine.

He licked all around Daddy's balls, too, making sure that Daddy was as clean as possible, and just loving the taste of Daddy's skin. Then Xander wondered briefly what to do about his messy diaper. He wanted to ask Daddy, but he was already half-asleep. Daddy had told him to clean up, but his diaper was dirty. He wasn't sure what to do.

He didn't want to bother his Daddy, to wake him, so he finally decided to slip out of his diaper and leave it folded up on the floor. The cool air felt good on his clit, and Xander told himself that Daddy liked him to be open and his pussy available at night so that Daddy could fuck him whenever Daddy wanted.

Content, he curled up beside his Daddy and let his eyes drift shut.

Spike woke up feeling about as content as vamp could feel. Sated and full on blood and sex and pain and control... there wasn't anything better.

Beside him, Xander was still asleep -- dozing, more like, since it'd only been a half hour according to the clock on the wall -- twitching occasionally and curling around his stomach. Ah, right. He'd been denying his pet something important, hadn't he?

"Xander," he sing-songed. "Wake up, baby, there's a girl, that's right. Open your eyes, good girl." Xander blinked at him, eyes open but clearly not all that conscious. Perfect. "Time to stand up, baby. On your feet, there, it's okay to lean on Daddy. I'll help you walk..."

They toddled into the bathroom, Xander adorably confused in his sleepiness but utterly trusting of Spike. Once positioned, Spike said, "Lock your knees and lift up your pretty skirts, love. Wouldn't want to get them over in filth." Not like they weren't come and sweat-stained, but that was different, wasn't it?

Sliding around behind Xander, Spike curled his arms around the boy's stomach. One hand gently took hold of the boy's cock, aiming it the way he hadn't in centuries, while his left hand stroked over the boy's bladder, applying steadily increasing pressure. "Say please, baby."

"Please, Daddy," Xander said, obedient.

"Good girl," Daddy said, stroking Xander's belly and stroking his clit gently before holding it at just the right angle. "Go on, sweetheart."

Xander's body loosened, relief rushing through his muscles as he relaxed and started to pee. A hot gush of release that was almost painful after having waited for so long.

It was hard not to shiver in delight. He could feel every molecule of the transfer, the way Xander sighed and relaxed, cuddling back against him with obvious trust that it was up to him to control this, to do this one more thing for Xander. This was something so basic, so individual and human, and here Xander was turning it over without a sign of dismay or regret. Spike had him. Spike controlled him, utterly and completely, in ways not even a baby could rival. Babies didn't wait, after all.

Xander, good, sweet fucking slut that he was, would.

Gently, Spike rubbed at his belly with his free hand, heel nudging into his bladder to make sure it was emptying fully. And because Spike knew that odd feeling of pressure and fullness would make Xander, yes, there he went, shiver and lean even more trustingly against his Daddy.

And that's what Spike was, now. A Daddy. Total and complete. Xander was nothing but a toy for him, now, and god, he wanted to slide right in, right here, fucking Xander with the boy upright and gasping and still pissing, trusting Spike to tell him when he was done...

Jesus, that was hot.

Instead, though, Spike licked his neck in as a reward and than shook his spent cock once the flow had stopped. "Need to use the loo for something else, pet?"

"Something else?" Xander said, coming back to himself a little. "Oh," he said, blushing when he realized what Daddy meant. "Yes, Daddy, please."

He knew he needed to, though he'd never done it in front of anyone before. He felt to blush spread over his chest, his skin feeling warm all over. Of course, he knew without having to ask that Daddy wasn't going to leave, that Daddy was allowing Xander the privilege of using the toilet.

He turned his head, nuzzling Daddy's cheek while he waited for Daddy to say the words aloud, to give his permission.

Spike took the mouth so sweetly offered to him, hands busy against peach-fuzz skin that rose up to meet him. "Turn, baby," he murmured, opening his arms so Xander could resettle, spent cock against Spike's hip, his arse cheeks full and eager under Spike's palms. He squeezed, teasing. "Ready, pet?" he asked, one hand sliding around to rub against his belly again, briefly detouring up to stroke at his throat: Xander swallowed beautifully, involuntary control drifting between them. "Feel full, don't you? Not just Daddy's come inside your pretty pussy."

"Full," Xander parroted, eyes half closed as he let himself be groped and fondled. "Yes, Daddy. Can I, please, Daddy?"

Spike let the hand on Xander's belly press down hard. Xander squirmed, wincing, but otherwise made no sound. "Sit down, pet. Go on."

Xander sat down obediently, looking mortified and a little hopeful as he assumed the appropriate position.

Another kiss, then, which Spike offered wetly before drawing back and out of the bathroom. "Clean yourself up extra good when you're done, love," he said and closed the door behind him.

Piss was one thing. The other smelled ruddy terrible, and he wasn't exposing his delicate vampire's nose to it without damn good cause.

Xander was relieved that Daddy hadn't want to stay. He hurried to take care of himself and get cleaned up, careful to make sure that he washed and soaped himself again before presenting himself to Daddy.

He resettled the dress around him, even though it was wrinkled and slept in, Xander still loved the feel of it, loved how he looked in it. Just like a pretty little girl.

Butterflies erupted in his tummy as he went out in the hall, wondering if his daddy had bought him any satin panties to go with the new dresses.

When Xander returned to the bedroom, Spike held out an arm and just reeled him in, tucking him securely against him like a blanket of warmth and eager, anxious sex. "Feel better now, love?" Xander's nod was slow, lazy; Spike was running his hands all over his boy's body, touching what was his possessively and Xander was melting into it. Groping underneath the dress, Spike cupped Xander's balls and tugged them lightly. One, two. One, two.

And Xander just melted.

"Tell me what you're thinking, girl."

"Love you, Daddy," Xander said, because that was what he was thinking. "'M a lucky girl. Daddy's so good to me," he murmured, curling further into Daddy's embrace. He felt warm and happy and loved. It was what he'd always wanted. The only thing he'd ever wanted. Someone like Daddy to love him and take care of him.

He turned and pressed a kiss to Daddy's shoulder. "Love my new dress, too, Daddy. Thank you."

"I can see that. You like being a proper girl for Daddy to play with. Speaking of..." Using the hold on Xander's sac, he squeezed one final time, a bizarre hug of affection, before pushing him away. "Go check the closet, pretty girl."

The company he'd ordered from knew their customers. No man, or rather, no dom wanted to deal with the intricacies of figuring out the intricacies of a woman's fripperies. Despite years with Dru, Spike was still no different, which was why he'd bought from this company in the first place. It was designed for men and their patterns, which meant outfits came with all the accessories.

Xander knelt at the floor of his closet, material pooled silky and gorgeous around his hips and barefeet, as he fumbled with the box Spike had purposefully left out for Xander to --

The high pitched squeal of joy made Spike wince, though he was grinned at the same time. "Like it, do you?" he asked indulgently.

Xander held up a pair of silky, pretty panties with lacy and little ribboned hearts -- crotchless, of course -- and a pair of silk, gartered stockings. There were heels, too, but Spike figured he'd wait on those. No matter how much like a girl Xander wanted to be, heels took time to master.

"Come here," he instructed, "Daddy wants to watch his slut get dressed up proper."

"Oh, god," Xander said softly, nipples hard beneath his dress as he scrambled back onto the bed next to his Daddy. The panties felt smooth and cool against his palm. He wasn't even sure why the thought of wearing them aroused him so much, except that he knew how much his Daddy would like it. And... there was just something about being the little girl Daddy kept calling him that made Xander feel warm and fuzzy inside. It felt good and right and perfect.

"Thank you, Daddy," Xander said, leaning in to kiss Daddy on the lips. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." He felt giddy with pleasure, knowing that his Daddy cared enough to buy him presents. Not just any presents, but things he knew that Xander would love.

"You ever see those movies of women with their stockings. The way they'd sit, leg lifted, toes pointed, as they glided that bit of pooled silk up their legs... " Spike let the words trail off as Xander's eyes began to circle. Yeah, he knew. "That's what you're to do, baby. Just get them up to your thighs. Daddy'll take care of the garter and the panties."

Xander nodded, whimpering with eagerness as he sat on the side of the bed, reaching for the first delicate leg. These were, Spike thought gratefully, designed for a man's thicker, more muscular legs, his bigger feet, so the flimsy looking thing slid up Xander's skin easily. Xander had to stop at least twice, shivering and breathless with happiness.

Idly, Spike reached through the open part of Xander's arm to rub his stomach, curling Xander's dick in the silky material of the dress and tugging on it lightly. "Behave, girl, or I'll tell you to go small and quiet again." It wasn't a real threat threat, but it should hopefully motivate Xander to mind his manners. "Relax, baby. You're my girl, aren't you? My sweet whore of a girl. Gonna get you dressed up like the pretty doll you are, panties around your arse just long enough for me to rip 'em off, to use you the way you want to be... There, that's it, girl. All the way up, one at a time."

The cock under his fingers was wet at the tip, and Spike smoothed it on Xander's skin. "Good girl."

"Daddy's whore," Xander repeated. "Want that so bad, Daddy. Your girl, your sweet baby slut." Xander felt empty inside, longing for Daddy to fuck him, to fill him.

His fingers shook as he slid the stocking up his thigh. "Like this Daddy?" Xander asked, letting his fingers trace over the stocking's edge. "Should I do the other, Daddy? Make my legs smooth and silky like a baby's for you?"

Picking up the garter, Spike drew back on the elastic, letting it snap into Xander's upper thigh. The sting of pain made the boy's eyes flutter. "Yeah, girl, do the other one." They'd have to think about shaving, eventually, but Spike was enjoying the way the flesh-colored material grew richer with the boy's leg hair underneath. Xander made a mewling noise when he was finished, sitting there with the material hanging loosely maybe at mid-thigh.

"Stand up, baby," Spike instructed. "Step into your panties, that's right, baby. Pull them up, now the garters." He'd gone with traditional thigh garters, instead of the more common panties with bits attached to them, because Spike liked the way it left the upper thigh looking so vulnerably naked. He had plans to bite there. "Get yourself nice and smooth and pretty for Daddy, that's right. Fuck, pet, you look so pretty like this. Like a fucking doll, a toy..."

He couldn't wait, roughly grabbing Xander's hair and yanking his head back so he could kiss him, hard. He fucked Xander's open mouth brutally, yanking him this way and that, knowing that he was hurting Xander. Enjoying it. "Fasten it. I want to feel your smooth, slutty legs around my hips, where they belong. Want you on your back, baby, moaning and mewling for Daddy to take your pussy, to fill you up."

Xander's mouth tingled, his lips felt swollen. He licked them as he laid back, spreading his thighs and running his hands up and down the inside of his legs teasingly.

"Please, Daddy. Fill me up. Fill your pussy. All yours. Needy, greedy cunt. Need Daddy's cock, need it so bad." Xander canted his hips, opening himself further as he slid a hand over the silky front of his panties, then dipping his fingers low. "So empty, Daddy."

The panties were designed for boys that wanted to be girls, just like the rest of it, so the material held snuggly to Xander's cock, distending the material with heat and fullness. Pretty. Spike leaned down to bite at it, careful nips would hurt: he liked cock-torture, especially with girls who thought it was their clit.

"Get yourself wet," he murmured, still nipping. "Suck on your fingers, bitch."

"Mmm," Xander hummed, agitated arousal leading to languid need. "Yes, Daddy." He pressed two fingers into his mouth, drooling all over them as he sucked them in and out, finger-fucking his own mouth. He moaned as he slid his fingers over his crotch again and down to his pussy. He used his saliva to lube himself, to get his pussy stretched and ready. Not that it needed much. Xander felt as if he were always ready for Daddy.

He'd never get tired of seeing Xander purse his lips around his own fingers before sliding them deep into his own bum. It was tempting to tell him to leave him there, to stimulate himself while Spike bit and nipped, sometimes sucking particularly sharp bites, all over Xander's cock and sac. The boy didn't even seem to register the pain: it was all sex to him. All perfect.

And suddenly, Spike couldn't wait.

He jerked back, hauling Xander up just to drop him down more in the center of the bed, roughly shoving his legs up and away even as he shoved his cock in.

And god, as loose as Xander was getting, he was still so fucking tight: hot, wet, perfectly silken heat squeezing all around him...

Trembling with the effort of staying where he was, Spike let his hands drop on Xander's thighs, palms gliding over satin, then skin, then that perfect smoothness of a woman's silk stockings, cradled in Xander's incredible heat. The touch was fleeting, a hummingbird's pressure, as he dragged his fingers into patterns Xander's pussy copied with shuddering need. Skin, skin, so much skin, wrapped up in a bow for him like a pressie. Which Xander was. A pressie he got to unwrap and play with every day.

"Pretty as a picture," he told the panting boy below him. His hands wandered south, towards Xander's groin, and he couldn't help but press his thumb hard into the pressure point on the inner thigh. Xander jerked, gasping, his arse tightening almost painfully. "That's it, girl. Squeeze your pussy around Daddy's cock." He jabbed in again, and again Xander jerked into unwitting tightness.

"Daddy," Xander moaned. So full, he felt so incredibly full with Daddy inside him. It was perfect, always perfect, so long as Daddy was filling him, using him. Because Daddy owned him. He was Daddy's girl, Daddy's little toy to fuck and use. And Xander loved it.

He loved everything about being Daddy's.

"Fuck me, fuck your girl. Just a doll for you to use. All yours, Daddy. Always yours," Xander said, mumbling the words, chanting over and over, begging for more. He rocked back up against Daddt, taking as much of him as he could. "Need it. Need your cock inside me. Suck a slut. A needy, desperate slut who'd die with Daddy's cock."

"That's right. Teach you to live off come the way I live off blood. Because you do, pet. You're nothing but a come-sucking bitch. You'll die without it in your mouth, filling your pussy. Without me to fuck you and use you," Spike pressed down again and just like a blood machine, Xander tightened and whimpered, rocking down to take just a little more of Spike's cock, "to remind you that you're nothing. You're not Xander Harris -- he doesn't exist. You're a toy, a girl to fuck and bite and use like trash. Don't have a name. Just a cunt and a mouth, fingers to hold a cock with." He was starting to thrust now, involuntary jerks that rocked Xander across the bed.

Another touch and Spike could feel the bruises that were forming under his fingers, hot and aching, and once again Xander responded to mother nature's programming, fucking the cock inside him.

"Can you feel what I'm doing? I'm making you fuck me. Because I can, pet. I can tell you, or touch you, and either way, you'll do as I want. You'll milk Daddy's cock until I'm sated and spent because that's you're goal in life. To be used once more time, covered in come and sweat." Leaning down, Spike bit at Xander's nipples through the dress, sucking on them until there were dark, wet circles on the material. "Such a perfect doll. A fuck doll."

Perfect. Xander felt a frisson of excitement and elation go through him. Daddy had said he was perfect. Xander let himself melt into Daddy's touches, let his body relax and be led by Daddy's thrusts and the hard press of his fingers.

"Come-slut. Greedy whore. Hungry bitch who needs to feed on Daddy's come," Xander said, moaning and writhing. "Please, please, Daddy. Feed me. Fuck me. Use me." Xander was tearing up again, need and arousal and desperation mixing inside him until he didn't know what he was begging for anymore. Only that Daddy was the only one who could give it to him. "Love you, Daddy. Yours. Only yours. Anything. Do anything for my Daddy. Be anything. Girl. Slut. Cunt. Whore. Pussy. Whatever Daddy wants."

Listening to Xander babble all the dirty things he was made Spike stop toying and just fuck him. Xander kept up the words, his body welcoming as Spike jackhammered into him: there was nothing graceful about this. Just hard, rhythmless thrusts that cared nothing about Xander's pleasure. Spike was taking him, the same way he'd fuck a blowup doll (only this felt a fuck lot better) because that's what Xander was: irrelevant.

Spike came with a roar, pulsing hard and deep inside Xander, then collapsing with a groan of satisfaction. "Don't come," he remembered to mutter. "I' fact, pet, want you to go as soft as you can. Tell me if it hurts, but otherwise, girl, I want your clit soft and small."

"Yes, Daddy," Xander said, even his voice going small and soft.

He felt... vulnerable, even though he felt safe and warm at the same time. He bit his lip, wishing that he had Daddy's cock in his mouth, something to suck on. He always felt good with Daddy in his mouth, filing him. Xander let his hand dip between them, just wetting the tip of his finger with some of the come leaking from his pussy.

He brought his finger to his mouth and suckled, closing his eyes in contentment.

Spike watched, completely fascinated and a little bit appalled, as Xander's cock just shrunk. It was slow, but as the minutes spilled out Xander's cock softened and shrank until it was a normal-sized bit of nothing that Spike batted at. "You need a binky," he said idly, still playing with Xander's soft cock. "Does it hurt, baby? Do your insides ache?"

"Aches so good, Daddy," Xander said around his thumb. He thought about what Spike said, about having a binky, something to suck on and remind him of Daddy. "Can I have a binky," Xander said, feeling himself blush at the request, but needing to ask anyway. "One that's filled with your come, Daddy? That I can have whenever Daddy's not using me?"

"Maybe," because what was the use of being a bastard if you didn't enjoy it. "Legs up, slut. Daddy wants to look at his toy."

Obediently, Xander sucked his thumb and lifted his legs up and away so Spike could lean until his breath gusted cold against Xander's arse. He moved the panties this way and that, trying to determine if there was something visible that would translate into 'need to come' or, even better, 'milk me'.

Then again, why the hell did he even care? If he wanted to, he'd do it. Plain and simple.

"Go get a towel, girl, and then check in the toy box. You'll find something long and metal, like something a doctor would use." He shivered as he said it because that long, slender bit of icy metal was going to go where his cock had been, and soon.

"Yes, Daddy," Xander said, moving to obey immediately. He was a little sore, but he liked it because every step reminded him of Daddy's cock filling him.

When he found the device, he shivered at the coolness against his palm as he carried it back to the bedroom. "Is this it, Daddy?" Xander asked, holding it up as he climbed back onto the bed. Come was dripping down his legs, had been since he'd walked off to find the towel Daddy had requested. But, it was thick and slow, and Xander was sure he hadn't made a mess anywhere but on himself.

"You squish when you walk," Spike said in gleeful reply. "Yes, that's it. Spread the towel on the bed, love. You're leaking."

Xander obeyed, instinctively settling on his back, legs up, thumb edging towards his mouth. Spike abandoned the tool for a moment, leaning forward to nuzzle into Xander's belly, sucking marks on the lined skin. "Is this comfortable for you? This position? It should be. It's your baby position. Your slut position, open and eager for whatever Daddy does to you."

Xander made a hitching noise, then sighed more fully into the position. It had to be hell on his thighs and hamstrings, but Xander's delighted expression didn't seem to notice. "Yes, Daddy."

"You can suck on your thumb," he decided, magnanimously, "but I'll want to hear and understand you, too."

Xander nodded, sucking his thumb in with a grateful sigh. Chuckling, Spike gave him one last kiss, patting and then rubbing his belly in long, sweeping motions. He concentrated where a girl's uterus would be and over Xander's bladder. "Relax, girl," he crooned as he rubbed. "Let your body relax and go limp, there's a good girl. Letting Daddy feel good as he touches you, does whatever he wants to his pretty, perfect girl. Angle your hips up."

Obedient as always, Xander angled and gasped, eyes widening, as the long, slender bit of metal slid into his pussy. "I know, it's cold." Because he'd wanted it to be. "Don't squirm, girl," he added as he felt around until the little hooking catch at the top settled correctly.

"Daddy," Xander gasped, pulling his thumb out long enough to say, "Feels... full, but not?" He felt a little confused over how the thing piece of metal made him feel. Except for the pleasure that always came with Daddy touching him and using him however Daddy wanted. He knew that, loved that. He just wasn't sure about the rest.

Then Daddy did something, pressed and wriggled the little piece of metal and Xander's clit pulsed, but that felt weird, too.

"Daddy?" Xander asked, feeling small and unsure and a little afraid all of the sudden, even though he knew he was safe as could be with his Daddy.

"Shhh, pretty girl, it's okay, relax." The command worked like they always did, and Xander relaxed despite his confused expression. "This is just like before, with my fingers? It felt full like this before, too, didn't it? Not exactly the same, I know, silly slut, this is more intense. But I want to see your clit dribble and leak wet all over your thighs, girl. And what does that mean?"

Ah, there it was. He was glad he'd done this with his fingers before, because he knew when he'd got the angle just right, pressing over and over, like tiny, minute thrusts, with the metal right at the base where Xander's come was stimulated. The boy's cock twitched again, not getting hard but just reacting to the pressure. Something bubbled at the tip.

"It's okay, love. Daddy's taking care of you," he purred, rubbing Xander's stomach again and incidentally pushing on his bladder, increasing the awkward feeling.

"Yes, Daddy," Xander gasped, automatically arching into the touch. "Daddy always takes good care of me. Such a good Daddy. Love my Daddy," Xander murmured, eyes closed as he gave into the feelings, relaxed into it just like his Daddy wanted.

He could feel wetness pooling onto his belly, but he didn't care. He ignore everything except for the feel of Daddy's fingers on him and the sound of Daddy's voice.

"That's it," Spike murmured. "Just like before, in the bathroom. I do this for you, baby. I take care of you, inside and out. Keep you full of my come..." And empty of his own, if in a strange manner. Xander clearly didn't like this procedure: there was no pleasure in it, other than obedience, and the feeling was frustratingly odd, almost painful. He was relaxing, though, and Spike jabbed the device in a little harder, laughing when Xander jerked with a squeak. "Good girl."

He'd flipped Xander's cock towards his belly, partially because he liked the look of it, and partially because there'd be more gravity to fight. Even still, a steady, translucent dribble was becoming a small pond in the boy's belly button, his skin starting to run as his slit stayed open, leaking and drooling all over himself.

"Almost there, baby. Soon you'll be nice and empty. You'll feel so much better, baby. Lighter, there, there's a good bitch, such a sweet cocksucking whore. Widen your legs, baby. Let it run all over your stomach and into the towel. You're going to lick all that clean, afterwards."

Xander obeyed absently, spreading his legs and bringing his Daddy's words to life in his imagination. Daddy was going to make him clean up after himself. Xander didn't mind. He wouldn't have minded if it had just been his own come either, but the fact that the come dripping out of his pussy would be mingling with his own made him even more eager.

He licked his lips, groaning hungrily as his cock throbbed softly atop his belly.

"You're such a mess. Such a needy, greedy little thing. I bet you'll want to suck this," Spike pushed the toy in sharply, making Xander moan and his cock give an extra hard gush of release, "when I'm done, hm? It has my come on it, after all, and you need that. Have to have it in your belly and on your tongue. You don't feel right without it."

Xander smacked his lips uncomfortably in response, reacting to the command. Spike wondered how deep it'd go, if Xander would retain it for more than just a few hours.

"Almost done, pussygirl. Almost done. Are you sad that I'm not letting you come, pet? Do you miss it?"

"No, Daddy," Xander said, shaking his head. "Want whatever my Daddy wants. 'M a good girl."

It was true, he didn't miss it. Because Daddy was still touching him, loving him. Daddy was taking care of him, and that was more important than coming.

Interesting. A healthy, twenty-something boy obviously in full sexual command of his life... didn't miss orgasms. Not so long as he had Spike's to moan after.

Idly, Spike dragged a finger through the mess on Xander's belly and fed it to the boy, slowly fucking his mouth while he thought. This was -- a bit more than he'd expected, really. Oh, he was enjoying it, never fear. Loving it. Loving this eager boy who took everything Spike gave him and begged sweetly for more. But it was ... disconcerting, maybe. To know there was a boy that would take everything Spike's depraved mind could come up with and beg sweetly for more. Life, unlife: neither tended to work out in Spike's favor quite this much.

Even if it was logical. And it was.

"You're such an odd little thing," he murmured, rubbing over Xander's tongue. "You are a good girl, pet, never fear. A sweet slut that's malleable and perfect for me. For her Daddy. But you're just... bizarre. You are aware of who I am, yeah? That your life was different before this week?"

"Y-e-s," Xander said slowly, hesitantly. "Am I doing it wrong, Daddy?" Xander asked, biting his bottom lip. "Do you not want... I mean, do you want me to call you Spike instead?" He was starting to feel nervous and anxious, except daddy's hands were still rubbing softly over his skin, the cool metal teasing his pussy. "Tell me what to do, Daddy," he said softly, just wanting to get it right.

"You're doing just right, answering my questions like a good girl. I'll tell you if you step wrong." Xander didn't seem to find much reassurance in that, still frowning anxiously. Spike responded by pressing hard on the muscle at the base of his neck, left side, right on the knots that always live there for most people. Xander gasped lightly, forcibly relaxing. "There, pet. And my name is Spike. I meant do you remember what I am."

"My Daddy."

Right, right. Granted, it was nice to hear how firmly Xander said that, but. "What species, pet."

"Oh," Xander said. "Vampire." He didn't know why Daddy was asking, but he knew the answer and that made him feel good. "Feels good when Daddy takes what he needs," Xander said, absently reaching up to Daddy's jaw and tracing a line just outside where Daddy's fangs would erupt whenever he needed them.

Was that an invitation? Not that Spike really needed one, letting his face ripple and reform. "This doesn't bother you, me looking like this?"

"It's still Daddy's face," Xander said, voice starting to rise a little childishly. He traced over Spike's forehead lightly and bloody hell that felt good.

"And that's all that matters to you. Huh. Want your fingers bitten, baby?"

It was almost disturbing the way Xander's face lit up eagerly, edging his fingers more fully to Spike's mouth to be bitten, as lightly as a diabetic pricking their fingers, while Spike sucked delicately at the blood that welled up. "Mm. You taste good, princess."

"I do?" Xander felt ridiculously good at the compliment. "Want to be good for, Daddy," he said, sighing softly as Daddy suckled. "Feels so good, Daddy." And it did. It made him tingle all over, made him feel wanted and needed. It wasn't about arousal, but just feeling happy and contented.

Still biting Xander's fingers, one by one, and sucking until they puckered against his tongue, Spike reached down to manipulate the bit of metal still inside Xander's pussy. He pressed it hard right beneath the boy's prostate, stimulating a relatively explosive bit of come to drool from his spent cock. "It's the pull, isn't it?" he murmured as he switched to Xander's other hand. "The blood being taken from your body, steady pressure going from one to the other. Like having your bitty clitty licked to a real orgasm. Maybe I'll let you come tomorrow. Would you like that, love? Maybe I'll cut you right here," his fingers ran through the mess directly above Xander's dick, along the pubic bone, "let you bleed right into my mouth while I suck your clitty hard and leaking, blood and come on my tongue. Would you like that, baby? I'd like it. You'd be feeding me and making me feel good, just like the perfect comerag you are."

"Yes, Daddy," Xander said, breathless. "Please. Want that so much. Make you feel good. All I want, Daddy, ever. Always want to make my Daddy feel good," Xander groaned, body arching restlessly as the need to please began to crawl under his skin. He wanted to move, to open himself, to be there all for Daddy. Whatever Daddy wanted. Make Daddy feel good. All for Daddy. The words circled around and around in his head, so mesmerizing that Xander didn't even realize he was saying most of them aloud.

It wasn't the hunger that drove him, which was actually a good thing. Spike wasn't a thoughtful eater.

But this wasn't hunger, this was something more powerful, more passionate. Enough that Spike muttered, "Screw tomorrow," leaning down to lick suck at Xander's forearm before delicately slipping his fangs deep into the muscle.

Blood, hot, sweet, pulsing with life and trust and love so powerful it was like another meal on its own, flooded him. Spike moaned, rubbing against Xander because he couldn't not, taking deep, long pulls of blood while the boy moaned and creeled, whining his happiness as he babbled the occasional promise that it was all for him, all for Daddy. For Spike.

Still sucking, Spike groped down until he found the tool, pulling it free of Xander's body and sliding his dick in instead. He wasn't sure he wanted a fuck, not then. What he wanted was that heat, that warmth, the connection that completed the circuit of Xander's body under his, supplicant on his cock, his blood rich in Spike's mouth.

Oh, fuck, it was good.

"Daddy," Xander moaned, his body on fire. Daddy's cock was thick and hard inside of him, but so still that Xander whimpered. The feeling was too good, too perfect. The whimpering turned into a high pitched whine, and Xander couldn't help tightening his pussy around Daddy's cock, milking him. "Yours, Daddy. Make you feel good. Your girl. Your toy. All for you." Heat radiated out from Xander's arms, the two points of Daddy's fangs making him burn.

TBC