Trickster's Treat
Bondage, Violence, Vampire Non-con, Dom/sub
Heavily Beta'ed by Velvet_Virago

Jump to Part: One .. Two .. Three .. Four .. Five .. Six


“Oh my god, Xander, you can’t be serious!” Willow howled with laughter as Xander stood in the doorway to Buffy’s house.

“I vant to suck your blood,” he replied in a thick accent as he smiled with his fake vampire teeth. The plastic irritated his mouth, but he needed the fangs for the effect to work. Even with the prices at the new shop, his costume options had been limited, so it was either cheap fangs and cheesy cape, or soldier boy. Tough call, but in the end the cape won him over. Of course he'd added the little plastic sword just perfect for bopping sugar-hyped rugrats, but he had that hidden from Willow under the cape. Not even Dracula could stand up to the power of Willow eyes.

“Is that Angel’s shirt?” Buffy was peering down at him, her squinchy face at odds with her elegant satin gown and tumbles of dark curly hair. As she walked down the stairs the layers of fabric whispered and rustled, not that Xander noticed—he was too busy noticing the way the dress pushed up her chest and pulled in her waist.

“Um,” he looked down at the red silk-covered self. “Sorta,” he admitted.

“I don’t even want to know,” Buffy laughed with a wave of a gloved hand. “I just want to get the kiddies hyped up on sugar and then get them back to the school, so I can still have part of my night off actually off.”

“Ve can do that,” Xander agreed in his best Transylvanian accent, gallantly offering her an arm. Buffy just laughed as the three of them walked out the door: the lady, the ghost, and the vampire.

* * *

The smell of demons slammed into Xander so suddenly that he slipped into game face and snarled at the tiny red horned demon that had a hold of his hand. The demon hissed back and pulled his hand free. Xander pushed his velvet cape back as he scanned the street; something was wrong. Why was he here? Where were his minions? And where were all the humans? The street was full of undersized demons darting between bushes and children so small that they were hardly even worth hunting. Xander wanted larger prey, more dangerous prey. Prey worthy of an ancient vampire like himself.

He strode down the dark street with his cape billowing behind him: dramatic, but sometimes it really was all about style. Well, style and killing. And he was ready for the kill as he scented the air. A thin woman dressed as his prey would have dressed a hundred years ago took one look at him and fainted onto a manicured lawn. She wasn’t worthy.

“Xander!” a woman’s voice called, and he turned to see a luscious red-haired beauty rush toward him. Oh yes, she was worthy. Such a bold and wild woman would be worthy of feeling his passion, at least until her heart stopped beating under his fangs. He smiled silkily as she came skidding to a halt. “Oh my god,” she whispered, and Xander was about to make a comment about her poor choice of words when it occurred to him that she had no scent.

“Vhat are you?” he demanded, his native accent still slightly evident in his deep voice. His arm shot out, but all he encountered was air as his hand passed through her body. Ghost. Xander snorted in disgust. He had no interest in a creature he could neither fuck nor drain. Seeking more interesting prey, he continued down the street.

“Xander!” The apparition tagged after him, but he did not even bother to acknowledge her; she was irrelevant. “It’s a spell, it has to be. Just hold on and I’ll get Giles to fix it, and god Xander, don’t eat anyone,” the ghost called out before fleeing, and Xander couldn’t contain a smile. Of course he would eat someone…just as soon as he could find someone worthy of eating.

He closed his eyes and deeply scented the night air. Warm. Much warmer than home. And now he could feel the vibration of an active portal to hell somewhere near him. Ah, a Hellmouth. And one as powerful as any he had felt in seven hundred years, ever since that small mousy slayer had closed the one near his own beloved home. Xander snarled at even the memory and for the thousandth time, he wished he had done more to the girl than simply drain her. Alas, he had been but a youth, and youth causes foolishness. The Hellmouth made his bones sing with evil, and maybe it was time to leave memories of the old country behind, because he couldn’t remember feeling this good in centuries.

Xander turned his head as he caught the spoor of prey. Not human prey, but humans weren’t the only things worth hunting. In fact humans often weren’t worth hunting at all. But now a pack of vampires moved toward him. Fledges with the reek of humanity and their own graves still clinging to their demonic bodies: a good snack. And one smelled of enough years for him to no longer taste of humanity. With a small wicked smile, Xander wrapped his fingers around the sword concealed beneath his cloak as he started down the street toward the evening’s first sport.

“Oi, it’s Angel’s puppy boy,” the oldest of the pack announced with a sneer as they approached one another. Such a strange creature he was, but beautiful in his own way as he moved with the easy grace of a killer and the swagger of youth. Here was their leader, striding at the front of the group. Xander considered playing his with food a bit first. He stood still and allowed the rest of the pack to surround him.

“So, where’s the slayer and her pet vampire?” the blond punk demanded. Such insolence. Xander would take his time to show this young one the error of his ways.

“I assure you, if I had found a slayer tonight, I vould not still be hunting,” Xander said with a slight shrug. That stopped the blond. He tilted his head to one side in such an obvious gesture of confusion that Xander couldn’t resist laughing. Oh to be so young, to feel and show such strong emotions. To so foolishly betray one’s hand to an elder.

“What’s wrong with you, mate?”

“I haven’t given you permission to call me a mate, young one. Vatch your manners.” Xander laughed again as the eyebrows nearly lifted right off the young one’s face.

“Someone hit you upside the head then?” Xander watched as the blond’s nostrils flared, and then the face froze as he considered his mistake. Obviously, the young one had confused him with someone else and now he finally sensed the danger. Xander was tempted to laugh again at the frozen expression, but now the danger turned real as the young one would decide to either flee or order his pack to attack. It had been many years since Xander had faced so many and he held his arms loosely as he prepared for the game to begin.

“You’re a bloody vampire,” the young leader said in his thick English accent.

“For several centuries, igen. But you, not so long I think,” Xander confirmed. “If you had been around more than one or two centuries, you vould know the danger of challenging me with your…minions.” Xander let the last word fall out of his mouth like a stone, the tone making his contempt for such fledges perfectly clear. One of those minions growled, obviously unhappy with the comment, and Xander had the teaching opportunity he wanted. His sword arced clear of his cape and sliced off the head of the offending vamp and his nearest neighbor before any of the brainless pack could even react. And when they did react, Xander gave a sharp hiss of amusement as they scattered like dust into the wind, obviously in fear of becoming dust as had their comrades.

“Soddin’ traitors,” the blond one complained, but he stood his ground. Oh, this was turning out to be a good night after all.

“Your friends appear to have left you to my mercy.” Again with the over-dramatic presentation, but Xander had never been subtle. “Such a pity I have none.”

“Don’t suppose I need those wankers to take care of one challenger.”

You claim this Hellmouth?” Xander demanded, truly surprised now. This one was young, and while he smelled of more strength than a typical youth, he was not what Xander had imagined for the Master of the Hellmouth.

“Yeah, wot of it?” The young one fell back a step as Xander stepped forward, and Xander had to admire how the body slid into a defensive pose almost elegantly.

“You are very young for such a task. Surely you do not think you can hold the Hellmouth from me, do you?” Xander suddenly realized he wasn’t sure what he wanted. If the young one would only submit, Xander could imagine far more interesting games than mere killing. But he had learned the danger of keeping enemies within his house, so if the creature in front of him refused to submit, Xander would have to content himself with ripping out that long graceful neck.

“I figure I can take care of myself,” the young one snapped back, and oh yes, such interesting prey. Not quite a challenge, but certainly not a willingness to submit.

“And just who are you that you can take such good care of yourself at such a young age?”

“Name’s Spike.”

“I have never heard of you, but then I do not keep track of the younger lines. I am Xander sired by Nusa the Strigoi over 900 years ago. Nusa was the daughter of Dracul and was one of his favorite women, until she tried to stake him and trapped him in his crypt for a century or so, but that is all past… ” Xander airily waved his hand to dismiss the antics of his own elders, even though he still certainly avoided Dracul.

The blond tilted his chin in a small gesture of defiance. “William the Bloody, turned by Drusilla who was the first child of Angelus,” he arrogantly announced. Ah, so the creature did have some sense of manners after all. Xander considered the young one again.

“And you use ‘Spike’ rather than your true name?” Really, Xander couldn’t understand that.


“William the Bloody promises pain and death and what more could a vampire want in a name?”

“Well it’s not my soddin’ name now. Now I’m Spike.” The blond snarled, and Xander controlled an urge to grab the young one and slam his head into the ground, but he remembered being young and caring passionately for things that didn’t matter. He controlled the urge to roll his eyes as he nodded and quickly changed the subject. Let the child have his silly name, Xander had other goals in mind.

“Angelus.” Xander considered the name; most vampires had heard it, but only as a legend: a horror story fit for creatures of the dark. A vampire cursed with a soul, which was a story Xander had always believed to be made up by the Romany people. “Angelus, eldest of Darla, cursed with a soul?” Xander asked.

“Yeah, mate, that’d be him. Know him then, do you?” Spike narrowed his eyes as he waited for an answer, and Xander was briefly tempted to break open that head and fish around to find the thoughts within.

“I knew Darla, an ungrateful child who turned on her master. Loyalty seems to be a problem vithin the Aurelius line.”

“Bloody tell me about it,” Spike snorted in disgust, and Xander knew he had found a weakness, only the first of many he planned to find on his newest toy. Xander circled Spike and watched as the younger vampire’s shoulders twitched with an urge to turn but he stood unmoving as though unconcerned by the thought of attack.

“You know I’ll vin this fight,” Xander said calmly. It wasn’t a question, and the young one knew it.

“Know you’ll try.” The challenge had finally been issued, and Spike whirled to face him as Xander leapt. He drove out with his right hand and ignored the young one’s attempts to dodge as he thrust forward with superior speed and strength. His hand closed around Spike’s delicate neck, and he kept his forward momentum going even as fingers clawed at his arm and Spike gnashed his fangs. He drove forward until he had the smaller vampire pinned against a tree, helpless and muttering curses. The boy would have been yelling those curses, but for Xander’s hand crushing his throat until only a soft whisper emerged.

With his free hand, Xander pulled his sword and all sound and movement stopped. Huge blue eyes stared, and the scent of fear threaded beneath that of anger. Xander could only imagine the terror of watching death approach, but even now the young one did not tilt his head and beg for mercy.

“And vill you submit now, child?” Xander asked as he loosened his hold. He was prepared for any number of moves: falling to the ground in abject terror, pleading for mercy, a last attempt to flee. He actually was slightly surprised when Spike chose to attack instead. Spike had lowered his gaze when the sword appeared, but now he threw his weight to the side, breaking free from Xander’s grasp and falling to the side even as he struck out hard with his feet. Spike’s body hit the ground, and Xander had to quickly dance to the side to avoid being taken to the ground himself by a child 800 years his junior. But Xander quickly switched to a reversed grasp on his sword’s hilt while Spike still lay on the ground. Even as Spike pulled his legs under him in order to regain his feet and try for another attack, Xander thrust the sword through Spike’s lower back on the right side, forcing Spike back down to the ground where Xander simply drove the sword through Spike’s body and into the ground below.

“Fucking wanker!” Spike cursed. Xander knelt in one smooth motion, reaching down to close his hand around the back of Spike’s neck. His other hand rested lightly on the pommel of the sword pinning his prey to the ground; he could feel the delightful struggles vibrating up through the blade as Spike panted in pain.

“Little one, this is your last chance. Do you submit?” Xander found himself hoping the beautiful boy would yield since he had no wish to kill the creature, and it had been centuries since anyone had fascinated him enough for him to give up the kill.

“Not goin’ ta play bottom boy again, did the worthless bit for Angelus and soddin’ well not doin’ it again.” The voice was quiet but still amazingly full of defiance. Xander thought for a moment; one of the advantages of age was the patience to put aside the instinct the kill, even when the prey was bleeding and squirming so deliciously.

“Is that what you think you’d be? Vorthless?” Xander rocked back on his heels; in his world any vampire that did not behead you on sight was by that act showing his respect for your worth, but this little one had such strange beliefs. The hand that had rested on the sword reached down to gently stroke Spike’s side, and yes, after three hundred years of experiencing lust as no more than a need to fuck someone, Xander was rediscovering the type of lust that could only develop when one craved a particular partner. He could imagine that delicate and yet muscular body writhing under his own larger frame, bucking in pleasure or fighting in pain.

“I promise you that you have worth to me or you vould already be dust.” Xander tightened his grip on Spike’s nape, keeping the young vampire’s face turned to the dust. “Of course, if you refuse to trust me, refuse to give yourself to me, then you vill have no worth because you vill be dust on my boots.”

“Trust?” Spike spit the word out as though it burned his tongue. Xander stood and Spike went silent again, no doubt expecting the end even as he looked up. Xander pulled out the sword and for one moment enjoyed the sight of his prey sprawled on the ground injured and helpless and waiting for the final blow as he smiled down with a grin full of fang.

“Trust me and I place great value on you, my spirited young one,” Xander assured him before sheathing his sword. Spike turned on one side and used his fingers to explore his ripped and bloody shirt.

“Bloody hell, that was my favorite shirt,” he complained, and Xander laughed. Spike twisted and checked the leather coat for damage but the sword had managed to miss it; of course, Xander also understood this was simply a delaying tactic, but one he was willing to indulge. There were no accusations or counterattacks, so Xander suspected that young Spike had just come as close to submitting as he could. Time for harsher lessons later. Right now Xander had to reward the small steps. He held out his hand and Spike ignored it in favor of clambering heavily to his feet on his own, a hand still pressing his stomach where the sword had come out his front.

Unperturbed, Xander waved dismissively at the tattered garment. “And what vould you have me do about that? Give you my own shirt off my back perhaps?” Xander suggested as he stepped forward. Most young vampires would now take this opportunity to run; most young vampires would have died. Spike stood his ground until they stood face to face, chest to chest, and Xander reached up to finger the damaged shirt and to rub the nipple below. Spike flickered into game face and then quickly back out of it, refusing to admit the power that simple gesture had over him, but Xander was a vampire, he knew what it felt like to know that a powerful creature desired you. And he could certainly smell the growing lust as Spike openly considered Xander’s own shirt, red silk flowing over the strong, wide chest of an ancient vampire.

“Hell no, looks like something Peaches would wear,” Spike almost snorted. Almost. “Except the cape, that’s too nancy boyish even for him.” Xander knew nothing of nancy boys nor peaches, but he could recognize a disrespectful tone. He gave the nipple below his fingers a sharp twist.

“Mind your elders, boy,” he admonished, and Spike’s eyes darkened with lust or rebellion or both. Time for a lesson. Xander reached out and cupped the back of Spike’s head, easily overcoming Spike’s attempts to pull back in order to pull those soft lips to his in a bruising kiss. Pressing his parted lips firmly against those of his captured prey, he opened his mouth, fully expecting a fight, but Spike’s mouth opened easily, and Xander tilted his head slightly so that he could better savour the tastes of his delicious lover-to-be.

So many flavors: the tobacco and whiskey he had earlier consumed as well as the taste of blood still strong in his mouth; the faint taste of a woman, a lover whose scent and taste mingled with Spike’s own in faint wisps; the fear and the rebellion and quite frankly the need to submit…that was all there too. A minion needed no more of his master’s time than it took to give an order, but to make a childe, a companion to survive the centuries, that took care and effort. This one who was clearly worthy of surviving the centuries should still have had his maker to hide behind. He should not have been abandoned, left to not only survive on his own but to hold the Hellmouth. Xander pulled back, resisting the urge to smile when Spike unconsciously leaned into him to prolong the kiss. Perhaps this pretty toy would prove even more amusing than he had hoped.

“So, vill you submit and take your place of safety behind me, your place under me?” Xander’s hand slowly trailed down to the thick denim of Spike’s jeans, possessively cupping the crotch. The answering thrust certainly seemed promising enough. “Or will you fight and die?” Xander still held Spike in his arms from the kiss, and now he pressed his second hand to the wound in Spike’s back where the sword had entered him.

“But Dru…” And again with the refusing to either submit or to challenge. This was becoming tiresome. Xander snarled and curled his fingers hard into the wound, feeling Spike’s trapped body buck up against his with a gasp of pain.

“Enough, child. Either you are mine and you vill trust me to do what I vant, or I will turn you to dust right here.” Xander watched as Spike’s held tilted just slightly before he raised his head defiantly and looked straight at the vampire in whose grasp he stood.

“Won’t leave her helpless,” Spike snarled softly, and then Xander connected the name. Dru…Drusilla. The childe sought to protect his sire. Such a surprising little hellcat he had found this night. If he ever discovered who had magicked him to this place, he would surely offer them a great reward.

“I offer your sire either my protection or my permission to leave, whichever she prefers. However, I offer that only so long as you please me. If you turn to dust, I shall make sure your sire follows you to hell before sunrise.” Xander’s fingers still probed deep into the wound, but Spike stopped pulling away from the pain as he stilled. The threat to his sire forced his stillness where his own lust and pain and fear combined could not. Oh yes, one simply had to know where to apply pressure and the prey always responded.

Spike paused, and seemed to draw a small, unnecessary breath, “Dru sees…sees things in the future, possibilities. Bloody knows when the hunters are on our tails or when somethin’s comin’, good or bad.” Xander allowed a small encouraging smile to show on his face as Spike made a case for his sire’s life; obviously this one was not corrupted by Aurelius disloyalty. It was a good sign.

A better sign was that Spike had put his head down on Xander’s shoulder, his hands hanging by his side without trying to push away or claw his way free. Xander pulled his fingers out of the wound and brought the gore-covered fingers to his mouth where he began licking them clean even as he held Spike in place with his other hand. He could feel Spike’s body tremble from time to time, either from the loss of blood or from fear that his sire’s existence was still in danger. Either way, Xander enjoyed the helpless tremors and Spike’s scent, blooming with anger and anxiety. So perfect. Well, all but for the hair, which was held in stiff locks that irritated the skin of Xander’s neck as Spike pressed against him. That would have to change. He would feel his pet’s soft hair against his skin and under his hand.

“She vill not come to harm by me, and such a strega…such a vitch…would be a velcome addition to my court, which I seem to have misplaced. But I shall simply rebuild. Sadly, most of your minions are not acceptable.”

“Most of my minions are soddin’ morons,” Spike corrected him, and this time Xander laughed out loud as his free hand wandered down to explore the curve of Spike’s ass.

“Yes, my lovely little hellcat, I think they are.” Xander nuzzled toward Spike’s neck, and his young one submitted in a way much more significant than saying the words: he dropped his head to the side and exposed his neck. Xander growled with delight as he reached up and pushed the coat off Spike’s one shoulder before fisting the neck of the t-shirt his prey wore and casually ripping it down the front. And still Spike stood, his neck bared, and Xander paused to just admire the sight of the young one with the black fabric hanging in tatters, his long white neck exposed and smelling of fear still.

Such a perfect moment. If only there were the remains of a dozen humans at their feet still warm from the slaughter, he would call it a perfect night. But self-denial wasn’t Xander’s strong suit, so after few exultant seconds he plunged his fangs into that pale neck, feeling the body buck in his arms as he drank the blood of his chosen prey. He felt his own rising lust, which was spurred on by his young one’s moans of pleasure at being taken. He drank as he reached down and pressed Spike’s crotch, unsurprised at the hardness under his hand.

Spike was stronger than he expected, but then he’d had to be without a true master to protect him. Xander reminded himself to watch this one; this was no fledge to be dismissed, but a strong youth verging on becoming a master in his own right. He pulled back as Spike started to weaken and leaned into Xander for support. Yes, Spike needed to learn that; he needed to learn to rely on his new master. Xander ripped his own wrist open and held it to Spike’s lips.

“Drink, my precious hellcat,” he whispered, and a tongue reached out and touched the running blood before the mouth clamped over his wrist and began sucking voraciously while Spike pressed his body to Xander’s own. Xander had expected to give his first punishment, but when the wound closed, his Spike simply licked the remaining drops from his skin without even attempting to open a wound himself. Xander reached out and grabbed Spike by the back of the neck as he pulled him in for another kiss as the reward for knowing his place and his limits.

“Oh god…oh god, oh god, oh god.” Xander pulled back with a snarl. He had not heard or smelled the approach of an enemy, but he quickly realized that it was only the ghost from earlier, babbling. “Oh Xander, what have you done?” she asked with her mouth making a shocked “O”.

“Perhaps your witchy sire knows a spell to rid one of a pesky ghost,” Xander suggested dryly as he slipped an arm around Spike’s waist and used his finger to trace the still red scar of his bite on Spike’s neck.

“Don’t you ignore me, or else you’ll…you’ll end up doing your trig homework by yourself Mr. ‘I just had to go to Halloween as a vampire’.”

“She been bothering you?” Spike sounded somehow confused, but Xander pulled his young one’s body into his, distracting him by pressing into the bite mark until Spike squirmed in pleasure.

“She’s dead…irrelevant.” Xander whispered as she came even closer. This close he could feel the small hairs on his arms react to her presence.

“Oh Spike, he bit you,” the ghost exclaimed. “It’s a spell, it’s not really him.”

“Think I figured that one out on my own, Red,” Spike commented with an almost human snort of amusement.

“Do you know this annoyance?” Xander demanded, and Spike shrugged at the same time that the ghost made an unhappy noise.

“You are going to be so sorry when this whole spell thing is over, mister,” she insisted as she poked an ethereal finger at him. “And I am so getting Angel.” The ghost turned and ran down the street. Strange town.

“Answer me, little one. Do you know her?” Xander repeated, his tone a little darker than before.

“Yeah, she was one of the slayer’s little minions. Appears the slayer might be havin’ a problem with her followers all bein’ dead one way or another, which is probably why Dru sent me out to kill her tonight.”

“Your sire sent you to kill a slayer?” Xander considered his pet with new respect.

“Oi, taken out two slayers already.” There was a flash of justifiable pride in the young one’s voice. He paused, and finished more thoughtfully, “problem is, this one just keeps gettin’ help from her little band of do-gooders.” Well, that did explain the strength he tasted in Spike’s blood, and he would be even more powerful now with Xander’s own ancient blood flowing through him.

“Ve can deal with the slayer tomorrow. Tonight I vant to hunt and then to show you just how much value I place on your submission.” Xander didn’t miss the flinch on his Spike’s face at the word, but his young one would learn the rules and the joys of submission to his new master… after his new master found a meal. Xander planned on sharing a lot of blood with his Spike, to strengthen both his pet’s body and the bond of ownership.

He would make sure that Spike was strong enough to hunt at his side as they took down this new slayer. Xander salivated at the thought of that rich, nearly demonic blood that the slayers carried, and oh yes, it was time for the hunt.


Part Two

Xander raised his head from the bloody neck of the pirate who had jumped out from behind a large, metal garbage dumpster to attack him. The man’s blood had been heavy and thick and rich with a diet that never knew hunger or even a meatless meal. So different from back home. The bloodless body, now pale beneath a layer of grime, fell to the ground as he stepped over to Spike who had chosen a gangster dressed in pinstripes, and this truly was a strange town, even by Hellmouth standards.

Xander watched as Spike dropped his own prey to the ground, and then his young one surprised him by stepping forward and seeking a kiss. Xander obliged, grabbing Spike’s jeans and pulling their bodies together so that he could feel young Spike’s erection pressing through the fabric and Spike could feel Xander’s cock, hard with bloodlust and good old fashioned sexual lust. Their mouths met, and Xander tasted Spike’s prey, blood just as rich but with the added flavor of alcohol, which gave the blood a zing his own prey had lacked. Xander pressed harder so that his fangs opened small wounds in Spike’s lips, vampire blood mixing with human blood as Xander started to rub his erection against Spike’s hip. An answering groan told him what he needed to know.

Xander pulled back and Spike stood there with blood trickling down the side of his mouth, his hair hopelessly disarrayed, and his eyes half closed. How funny, his lovers didn’t usually have that sated expression until after Xander had finished with them. The coat was back on both shoulders partially hiding Spike’s newest scar, but his shirt still hung in tatters from his frame so that his clearly defined chest and stomach muscles appeared and disappeared as the fabric fluttered. Xander was two seconds away from pushing Spike up against a wall and fucking him, but the child’s comments about being worthless to Angelus and his refusal to speak his submission suggested that he had been poorly used. Xander needed to show Spike another side to submission if he planned on trusting the young one in his court.

“I vant a safe place to enjoy my beautiful hellcat in private. Where vould you suggest?” Xander asked, intentionally giving Spike both a choice and a chance to betray him. It was always best to test such things up front.

“Wot? Not goin’ ta do it against the dumpster?” Spike demanded, and his face transformed into that sneer that Xander had seen when the vampire first walked down the street toward him. No wonder the Aurelius line fell; how could a master have a court if he did not know how to inspire and manipulate loyalty?

Xander lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Is that what you vant? Do you vant me to need you so badly that I would press you up against the stone and rip your jeans from your body? Do you vant to feel the rough brick pressing into your face and hands as I drive my cock into you, owning you? Do you vant to know that you can drive 900 years of control out of me because I need to feel you under me?”

Xander showed his game face as he slowly walked forward, forcing Spike backwards over the body and past a mountain of cardboard boxes stacked next to the garbage. As he expected, the scent of lust only intensified. He pressed the length of his entire body onto the smaller vampire, trapping Spike between the immovable brick and his own unyielding body. He pressed so close that Spike could smell Xander’s lust and feel his hardened cock and know that he was truly wanted. The sneer melted off Spike’s face and a much more appropriate leer took its place.

“Got a place about two blocks from here, a warehouse not even the minions know about, unless you don’t want to wait,” Spike said in a tone a human might have described as casual, but Xander’s sharper ears could hear the slight breathiness, the slightly raised tone of desperation and lust. Xander just smiled both at Spike’s intelligence in not trusting his minions and at his willingness to submit to Xander’s own preferences… that was as it should be.

“Lead away, my young hellcat,” Xander said as he dropped a quick kiss onto Spike’s neck, right over the scar. Spike shivered, still young enough to feel such human reactions and instincts. In some this humanity would be an annoyance capable of driving Xander to homicide, but in this strange beauty it was one more facet of delight. He had no way to hide his excitement, or any of his emotions. Xander stepped back, gesturing for Spike to lead the way. With a victor’s smile on his face, Xander followed his young one down the alley littered with large blue dumpsters and scraps of paper that danced in the breeze and gathered in the corners.

Xander looked around the abandoned warehouse and found any number of items that pleased him: chains hanging from the ceiling, coils of rope, knives and various tools laid out on a shelf, a number of tables and platforms including a large one with fairly clean blankets thrown over it. Of course he also saw things he did not like such as the wide open space with dozens of points of entry and windows near the angled ceiling. He preferred to have something more substantial than darkened glass between him and the sun. A hunter could make survival very difficult by breaking those windows during the day, so Xander knew he had to find more secure quarters before the sun came up. Spike stopped in the middle of the furnished and dimly lit area and turned to face him.

“All the comforts of home,” Xander said pleasantly, unwilling to put his young one on the defensive at such a crucial time. “Now strip.” Xander watched Spike’s eyes go wide and dark, lust and wariness vying for dominance, and Xander respected both reactions. However his new pet needed to learn that the only dominance was Xander’s will. He strode forward so fast that Spike had not managed to retreat more than a couple of steps before Xander grabbed him by the back of his head.

“Bloody hell, can’t do it when you’re playin’ ‘grab the vampire’ with my head, can I?”

“You do as you’re told, child. I vant to see your form, and you will not hesitate to follow my orders.” Xander balanced his stern tone of voice with his gentle hands, one of which tenderly kneaded the back of Spike’s neck and the other of which slipped under the remains of his shirt to explore the taut muscles. Such fear here.

He stepped back and this time Spike moved, tossing his coat to one side before sitting down on the ground to pull off his boots. Xander smiled at the sight of his young one finding an excuse to sit at an elder’s feet. Dozens of tables and platform and chairs, and his newest toy chose to sit at his feet. He remembered the constant fear of youth, but he had been sitting at Nusa’s feet. Pleasing his sire was his only goal, but how many things did this one have to fear? Now all his precious hellcat had to do was please Xander, and Xander would take care of the rest.

Xander stepped forward, allowing his hand to fall on Spike’s head as the vampire pulled one boot off. Rather than try to escape the touch, Spike ignored him as he continued on his task, and Xander understood that too. The child was old enough that he couldn’t submit without feeling weak but still young enough to feel that urge to submit anyway. Xander simply allowed his hand to rest on Spike’s head, and the hair under his hand was prickly and coarse, much like his pet. Xander would change both his pet and his pet’s atrocious hair.

Xander stepped back as Spike stood and unbuttoned his jeans, allowing them to fall to the ground before stepping out of them, and now he stood naked and hard, his wiry, muscular body exposed. Xander walked around viewing Spike from each side, the smooth buttocks, the well defined shoulders, the corded muscles of his chest and arms. On his third circle, Xander reached out and touched Spike’s backbone, and the young body gave a tremor before stilling again. How long had it been since Xander had taken such a young responsive lover?

“On your knees, little one,” Xander ordered in a soft whisper. He walked around to the front so that his naked and vulnerable cub would be kneeling at his feet while he still wore all his clothes. Psychologically he knew the power of being dressed while another waited naked and trembling for his touch.

“Oi, not little,” Spike complained but he did go to his knees. Xander stood over Spike for several minutes, watching as his pet looked at everything else: the concrete floor, the angled scaffolding in the dim recesses of the warehouse, a wooden chair a few feet away. Finally his pet looked up at him, and Xander allowed himself to smile possessively down. Spike took an unnecessary breath and looked away again. Small steps, Xander reminded himself as he walked over to a pile of chains and considered his options.

“Not little in any vay that counts,” Xander agreed. “Perhaps I used the wrong vord. I meant little as in young. You are very young, and yet your blood speaks of your power and strength.” He touched the leather of a coiled whip before picking it up. He discarded one length of chain for having links too heavy and unwieldy and he picked up a second length and a number of locks.

“You will sit at my feet and demons will tremble in fear of you. You will never again yield to anyone but me, but you will give yourself to me without hesitation: kill when I order, feed when I order, open yourself to me and beg for my cock when I order.” Xander turned around with his tools and Spike had gotten to his feet again.

“I’ll take Dru and bloody leave the Hellmouth, you won’t hear from us again.” Spike insisted, and yet his cock still stood hard and needy.

“Vhat scares you most, child? Are you afraid of sitting at my feet or begging for my cock?” Xander walked slowly towards his prey, this was a game he knew well, and Spike would not escape him now.

“Won’t bloody beg for anythin’ mate,” Spike snarled as he backed up a step for each step Xander took. Spike’s bare feet made soft slapping sounds against the concrete while Xander’s boots struck the concrete with sharp staccato sounds. Yes, Xander had everything perfect, and now his pet’s words had told him where to attack. His pet had revealed the weakness, and Xander knew how to apply the right pressure to bring his prey down.

“Oh, but you will, young one. You will beg for me to take you, to use you and fill you so that you know to whom you belong. You will kiss my cock and beg for me to drive into you as you writhe in pain and pleasure and feel such a need to come that you will promise me anything.” Xander insisted as he continued advancing slowly but steadily.

Xander effortlessly pinned the prey with nothing more than his penetrating eyes and his soft voice. “You will open yourself to me on your knees and feel your own cock harden at the thought of me forcing you down and covering your body vith my own.” Xander continued to walk forward even as Spike retreated, and his shaking head was contradicted by the hardness of his cock. The scent of lust that now trailed from him so strongly as to overpower the scent of dust from the dim corners of the warehouse. Xander moved his wrist so that the chains he held rattled softly.

“Not bloody likely,” Spike whispered harshly.

“Oh, yes, young one. I have tasted you and I will not give up until I see you on your knees begging, your strength and your power and your beauty offered up to me as your master.” That caused Spike to miss a step so that Xander closed the distance.

“You have been used, taken, forced to beg those who do not see your power, igen…yes?” Xander corrected his unconscious use of his native word because he would not have his hellcat misunderstand him now. They stood chest to chest, Xander looking down into the blue eyes. Spike was still, but Xander sensed his struggle to suppress a shiver. And yes, he was still afraid, even in his growing lust.

“I don’t bloody beg anyone.” Spike shifted into game face just as his body took up a defensive pose, and Xander resisted smiling. The young were so predictable.

“Not anymore. But you vant to. You vant someone to value you, to take you and keep you. Your sire, you are loyal but she does not command you, keep you safely by her side.”

“Dru… Dru’s injured.” Spike no longer retreated but instead shifted into a more aggressive stance.

“And so you have no real sire, and you have no line or master to help you care for her. You have no one who values you enough to chain you and keep you, but instead you are tossed aside. The Aurelius line is full of fools if no one has seen your potential. I see that potential.” Xander dropped his voice so that it was low and soft as he made a earnest promise.

“I will chain you and you will submit to me, my precious hellcat—you no longer have a choice in that. If you care for your sire so much, then I will take the strega into my court and she shall have a place of honor, but do not make this harder for yourself.” Xander truly wished to stop talking and act, but he had to make sure his new pet understood his place, both his helplessness to change his fate and the fact that Xander did value him. He had made the mistake of allowing a young one to grow insecure once, and he had paid that price. He would not be forced to kill his newest pet.

“Won’t be chained, not by Angelus and not by you.” Spike nearly hissed, and again the young one’s fear of the past tainted the present. Xander kept his voice low and soothing.

“By Angelus, no. He will never again own you, but you have submitted to me, and you will vear chains until you learn to kneel at my feet. I will not have you injured or lost in your foolishness, and I will not have you raising your hands against your master.”

Xander leapt forward and slammed his body into Spike’s smaller frame. Small, but certainly not weak. Xander flinched as a hunk of his hair was ripped from his head and fingernails trailed down his cheek, but such injuries were little more than foreplay as he felt his own cock harden to a point of pain. He grabbed the offending hands and struggled to flip Spike over onto his stomach.

Spike fought. He fought like the hellcat his master had named him, and yet Xander noticed that Spike’s cock hadn’t softened one bit and despite the struggle, the young one made no move to bite without permission. Xander forced his knee under one of Spike’s legs so that the long limb was forced into the air. Holding both wrists with one hand, he reached down, grabbed Spike’s leg, and used it as leverage to turn Spike onto his stomach.

Spike had no way to stop himself from being maneuvered, but Xander did learn a number of new words as he straddled Spike’s naked body and reached for the chains and locks he had brought. He considered fashioning a collar around Spike’s neck and chaining his hands behind his back and to the collar, but he wanted to be able to feed freely from his little hellcat. Instead he chained Spike’s hands behind his back with about six inches of chain between them. Then he stood and used the long trailing end of the chain to pull Spike to his knees while using hand on his pet’s shoulder to prevent him from rising any farther.

Xander ignored the words that Spike continued to spit and hiss even as he looped the chain around Spike’s waist in order to keep those hands flat against his back. With Spike secured, Xander took a second to bend over and run his hand under the chain around Spike’s stomach, feeling his pet struggling for breath he didn’t need.

He could smell the panic, and so Xander knelt down in front of Spike and used the chain to pull his pet to him for a kiss. Spike snarled and snapped, and one of his fangs caught Xander’s lip so that Xander tasted his own blood. Spike instantly stilled as Xander reached up and ran a finger over his wounded lip before licking it clean. Xander then did the same for the scratches on the side of his face while Spike watched with fearful yellowed eyes. Xander finished and stood. Almost instantly, the curses resumed.

“You will either be silent, or I will find a way to silence you,” Xander warned, and Spike stilled again. Xander walked away, leaving his chained and naked pet kneeling on the ground and smelling of such despair that Xander could barely contain his lust. At the shelf he pulled off a number of items before returning to Spike who had fallen silent even though Xander could feel those yellow eyes following him around the room.

“On your feet,” Xander ordered, and Spike struggled up, still obviously pulling against the chains with short jerky movements in his shoulders. “Hush little hellion,” Xander soothed him as he stepped close and used the waist chain to pull the helpless vampire into his embrace. Spike’s expression would have cowed lesser creatures, but Xander had always enjoyed the fight, and this one was worth the effort. When he stopped fighting both Xander and his own needs, he would be a child worthy of Xander, killer of slayers and child of Nusa.

With a happy sigh, he lowered his head to Spike’s neck and mouthed the scar from Spike’s submission, and Spike’s body began to press into him. “You’ve displeased me, fought me, used words to curse the name of your master. You know you must be punished.” Xander expected the promise of pain and punishment to excite his hellcat even more, but instead Spike’s cock began to soften for the first time since Xander had ordered Spike to strip.

“Not Dru… just not Dru,” Spike whispered, and Xander pulled back to find Spike wearing his human face. Human faces were so much harder to read and now Spike obviously tried to hide his expression, but Xander could clearly smell the sour stink of fear. He used the waist chain to pull Spike over to a low wood table, and the young vampire’s eyes stayed on the floor as he moved forward without complaint. This was not the type of submission Xander wanted. He growled, and Spike flinched without raising his eyes.

“Vhat about your Dru?” Xander asked.

“Don’t stake her,” Spike almost whispered, and in those words Xander could hear Spike’s fear for his sire as well as his conviction that death approached.

“You think I will kill you.” Xander said as he sat on the table and pulled Spike between his legs.

“Just bloody get it over with,” Spike demanded, but the fire from earlier had gone and his voice was quiet despite his angry words. Xander found himself fighting with the urge to do exactly as Spike asked. He did not want a thing that wallowed in its own fear; he wanted his hellcat back.

“Why vould I kill you?” he asked instead.

“I…” Spike looked up, and Xander saw confusion take the place of certainty. Why would his young one be so sure that the only punishment would be death? Xander had never feared Nusa except when his foolishness warranted fear. Spike had done nothing that deserved death, but then again, Spike had belonged to a clan where sanity was rarer than loyalty. Xander suddenly understood.

“Who tried to kill you?” Xander asked.


“And you had submitted?”

“Yeah. Wanted ta stay with Dru; thought if I didn’t fight her she’d let me stay with my princess.” Xander suddenly understood his pet’s fears. He had submitted to his elders in order to stay with his sire, and his elders had tried to kill him. Normally Xander had no problem with killing those who disappointed, but to accept a young one’s submission and then fail to kill him when you were done? That was simply cruel.

“How old vere you?”

“Been turned thirty, thirty-five years earlier,” Spike nearly whispered. Xander curled his lip. If Darla had not wanted the child, she should never have accepted his submission, and if she had grown tired of him, she would have been kinder to have killed him rather than take one who had known a clan and turn him out like a minion.

Xander reached up and stroked the bare skin of his hellcat’s shoulder. Keeping his touches light, he let his questing fingers explore the curve of the bicep and down to the muscle of Spike’s forearm. He moved his hand to skim over his pet’s pale stomach, touching so softly that he could feel the small body hairs under his sensitive fingers.

Xander watched as Spike’s erection began to recover as Xander’s fingers moved up to touch a small nipple already tightening with lust. Spike gasped and pressed forward as Xander rolled the nipple between his finger and thumb. His pet’s responsiveness made Xander harden. Such strength it must have taken to claim the title of master at such an age, to care for himself and an ailing sire, to escape the murderous hand of Darla. Xander would have that strength unbroken and sitting at his feet yet.

“Darla is a fool,” Xander announced. He would have to get around to killing her later. “You are mine, and I will never release you. I promised you punishment, and you will be punished, but I will never destroy what is mine unless you turn on me,” Xander promised as he pushed Spike out from between his legs and to the side.

The child was obviously too confused for the whip, so instead Xander put a hand behind Spike’s neck and pulled so that Spike was forced to bend over his lap. Then Xander lifted him so that Spike’s upper body lay on the platform next to his master, his ass positioned on his master’s lap. Xander put one hand on the small of Spike’s back, holding him steady and feeling the muscles tighten and relax. His other hand moved small circles on Spike’s buttocks, enjoying the smooth cool flesh that he was about to heat.

“You won’t raise your hand against me and you will do as you are told,” Xander informed Spike an instant before he raised his hand and brought his hand down so hard that his hellcat shouted a “bloody fucking hell,” before settling back down.



Part Three


“Again,” Xander commanded as he brought the crop down on the backs of Spike’s thighs.

“I serve you; I obey you,” Spike hissed as the crop came whistling down.

“Again.” Thwap!

“I serve you; I obey you.” Another line on the flesh.

“Again.” Thwap!

“I serve you; I obey you.” This time Xander brought down his bare hand to slap the thighs and then he stopped, running his hand over the heated skin and feeling the welts under his fingertips as his hand glided up the shivering thighs and over the pink ass. Spike’s chained hands clenched tightly, and Xander could tell his pet was struggling to hold back his orgasm. Xander unfastened his cloak and brought it around to arrange the soft velvet over the naked body draped so appealing on his lap.

“And I forgive you, my little one,” Xander said as he stroked his pet’s legs through the cape, knowing that the soft fabric running against that sensitive skin would make Spike struggle even harder. At his words, the tension drained from Spike’s form and he sagged, no longer even trying to keep his toes on the ground but trusting Xander to hold his weight. Smiling, Xander closed his own thighs around Spike’s erection, creating even more friction around that fully engorged cock. Xander was just as excited, but in 900 years, he’d learned the tricks of controlling his own impetuous nature. Nusa had seen to that.

“Not bloody little,” Spike snarled tensely, and Xander laughed softly. Someone had made his pet sensitive to such comments, and Xander decided to continue calling his pet ‘little one’ until Spike could hear it without reacting so defensively.

“No, you are not. You are strong and mouthy and full of the foolishness of youth,” Xander agreed, and Spike was left groaning when Xander tightened his thighs even more. Now that body squirmed with a need that had nothing to do with escaping pain. Really he had been quite surprised that Spike hadn’t come yet, but he had to remind himself that this young one had to grow up quickly.

“Of course you have less foolishness in you than I had at my age,” Xander admitted. “If I had tried to hold a Hellmouth at your age, I would have quickly fallen, and I did not take my first slayer until 200. Even at that, Nusa whipped me raw for not coming and telling her that a slayer had invaded our territory.” He paused, tenderly stroking the trembling body under the velvet cape. “I would not choose to have you at my feet if you were not so beautiful and strong.” Xander didn’t miss the small flinch when he mentioned Spike being at his feet, but at least he wasn’t fighting him. A hundred repetitions of ‘I serve you; I obey you’ had a way of drilling a new reality into one’s head.

“So now you shall show your master how much you have learned,” Xander stood, and Spike all but fell to his knees as he slid off Xander’s lap and down to the cold ground. “I like this sight,” Xander murmured as he reached down for Spike’s head, both petting him and preventing him from getting off his knees. “But you have other duties right now,” Xander gestured for Spike to stand as he walked to a taller table with smooth varnished wood. He contained a victorious smile when Spike followed obediently.

“On your stomach,” Xander ordered, and he expected Spike to hesitate or complain or perhaps even fight. Instead his young one went quickly enough that one might call it willing. He bent over the table so that his cock hung off the edge and then, wonderfully, he spread his legs without even being ordered. Xander stood back and enjoyed the sight of his pet exposing himself, his heavy balls framing that hanging cock that made his pet so needy, and so compliant.

The pink was fading from Spike’s bare ass, but the welts stood out even in the dim light. And as Spike lay face down on the table, his hands flexed open and closed in a way Xander found almost hypnotic. Spike wanted to act, to move, to do something, but yet he lay waiting, and Xander had never seen a more perfect sight than Spike’s marked backside framed by the heavy cock and the restless, chained hands.

“Impatient, pet?” Xander asked.

“Just bloody bugger me before my soddin’ cock falls off, ya wanker,” Spike snarked, and Xander had to laugh at such impudence even as he slapped a pink cheek hard enough to cause a yelp. “In nine centuries, I’ve yet to see one fall off,” he chuckled as he knelt down behind his pet and tied one ankle to a table leg using rope. He didn’t think Spike would fight him now, but he would not have his pet’s submission undone in a moment of panic. Checking that the bonds were not too tight, he tied a second ankle to a table leg.

Once the ropes secured him in place, Spike started reflexively moving against the bindings, unconsciously testing them. Xander knelt there after he had tied the last knot. He lay one hand against his pet’s thigh, feeling the muscle strain and relax. He slipped his second hand inside his pants, reveling in his own aching need as he teased himself by rubbing along the slit. How many centuries had it been since he had so desired another? This hunger, this desire, it was intoxicating. Xander leaned his forehead against the back of Spike’s leg for a moment before pushing himself to his feet.

“To whom do you belong?” Xander asked as he let a cool fingertip trace the path of Spike’s backbone allowing his finger to glide over the chained hands when he reached the small of Spike’s back. Spike’s own fingers caught his and held them for just a fraction before releasing him, and Xander continued past the chained hands down to mere centimeters from his ultimate goal. So responsive.

“You,” Spike panted even as Xander licked a finger and explored the outside shape of the small pucker. Turned as a virgin no doubt.

“You know better than that,” Xander admonished as he slapped Spike on the inside of a thigh. Spike bucked his chest up and off the table with a groan even though his lower half was tied in place.

“To whom do you belong?”

“I belong to Xander sired by Nusa the Strigoi, killer of knights,” Spike answered properly, and Xander approvingly stroked the tender skin between the balls and the pucker. Spike shivered so strongly that the chains imprisoning his hand rattled.

“Who do you serve?”

“I serve you; I obey you.” Xander rewarded the answer by slipping his wet finger into the pucker, feeling inside for that small bump which could offer ever-increasing need and pressure, or release and pleasure. When he found it, he gently tickled his finger over the surface so that Spike again bucked up snarling with frustration.

“And what do you vant, my beautiful hellcat?” His tone like honey and thick with his native accent, Xander tickled the prostate again.

“Oh bloody hell, just fuck me,” Spike demanded in a quivering voice. Xander had heard that phrased more elegantly, but an invitation was an invitation. He quickly spit-slicked two fingers, driving them in and loosening Spike just enough to avoid major tearing. The young were so hungry when they bled, and he didn’t want to have to go hunt again tonight; tonight was for teaching his new child.

Gasping, Spike started squirming and flexing his hands into fists and quietly insisting, “Fuck me already ya soddin’ wanker, fuck me.” Xander pulled down his own pants and fisted his erection as he lined it up. Xander stopped and closed his eyes as he struggled for control that he hadn’t needed since his own sire’s death, because no one since had created such need in him. Now this rebellious little hellcat with his desperate whimpers and half-hearted struggles and impudent mouth made his cock ache with need, and he was determined to control himself. After all, he was a master of 900 years.

“You’re mine, my precious, and you’ll always be mine.” Xander drove forward, giving Spike no chance to adjust but instead creating heat as he forced his way into the minimally prepared channel. Spike hissed and growled and writhed helplessly as he tried to rub his own cock against the table. Xander used his strength to hold Spike’s hips still as the younger vampire adjusted to his master’s size.

“Mine,” Xander bent over and growled in Spike’s ear, “I decide if you have earned release, and I provide the release, little one. Only me.” The body under him shivered and stilled. Xander pulled back slowly, feeling the skin of his cock drag against the sides of Spike’s channel until the pain and pleasure reached equal proportions for both of them. He thrust in a second time and his own precum and tiny tears releasing drops of blood provided just enough lubrication for his cock to slide in more smoothly. Xander’s demon rose up demanding the fast and brutal mating of demons, but Xander wanted to torture his toy more.

He pulled back slowly, resting his hands on the table on either side of Spike’s bound body.

“Bloody hell, fuck me already,” Spike demanded.

“Who do you serve?”

“I serve you; I obey you,” Spike instantly responded. Xander rewarded him by slamming back in hard enough to elicit a savage and happy growl.

“So if I vant to enjoy your body slowly, feeling my cock surrounded by your trembling muscles as you beg for release I do not grant… if I vant this, what do you say, my precious hellcat?”

“Yes, Master,” Spike hissed even as he tried his best to wriggle invitingly and clamped down hard with his ass muscles. Xander shivered in delight. Oh yes, that was acceptable. Xander didn’t want a minion who mindlessly followed; a young hellion who obeyed and then tried to tempt his master was far more Xander’s style. But his young rebel would have to learn that Xander had enough control for both of them.

Ignoring his own need for a more active coupling, he pulled out of Spike as slowly as he could, feeling Spike’s thighs tremble as he tried to fight the bonds and push himself back onto his master’s cock. Xander laughed again, and honestly he couldn’t remember feeling this good since he had been tied face up on a table with Nusa riding him and forbidding him his own release.

This time Xander pushed in slowly as he put his hands on Spike’s chained arms, enjoying the feeling of his prey writhing beneath him. “You’re mine, my beautiful pet. Will you sit at my feet?”

“Yes,” Spike immediately answered. Xander noticed the ‘Master’ part had disappeared. Oh his little one was going to provide endless amusement.

“And will you kill when I order?”

“Bloody hell, yes.”

“And will you beg for my cock?” Xander started pulling out slowly enough to make his pet tremble.

“Yes, I’ll bloody beg for your cock, so fuck me already. Please. Please fuck me. Fuck me fuck me...” As if a floodgate had been opened, the demand disappeared and Spike begged. Xander had intended far more torture before he allowed either of them completion, but the fierce begging and struggling body shredded the last of his control as Xander released his own demon and did exactly that.

Pulling back out mid-thrust, he slammed into Spike’s body, slipping a hand around so that the force of this drive would push Spike’s cock forward into that tight grasp. Spike reared up from the table, and Xander caught his young lover around the front of his neck, pulling Spike nearly upright as he slammed in again and again, and now Spike was incoherent with need, using his small freedom of movement to press back to meet Xander’s heavy thrusts.

Xander tightened his grip around Spike’s neck, reminding him who controlled his body as he whispered “come” in Spike’s ear right before burying his fangs in his pet’s neck. Spike roared out his orgasm and jerked madly against the rope and chains as Xander drank deeply… so deeply that for the second time that night Spike leaned against his new master for support.

Xander changed his grip so that he held Spike around the waist as he pulled out of the young one’s neck and ass. Oh to have someone so trusting as to lay with his neck exposed- Xander suppressed a shiver of pleasure. Spike sagged against him with his head tilted back and resting on Xander’s shoulder, bonelessly supple in his completion.

After several minutes of simply holding his new pet—his new lover— still slumped motionless in his embrace, Xander slowly lowered him back down to the table and stepped away to retrieve his cloak and adjust his clothing. He paused, drinking in the sight of his bound pet, ass still welted, come leaking down the insides of his thighs, softly rattling his chains as he murmured in sleepy contentment. Xander smelled that delicious aroma of lust and release, and realized he did not even need the slaughtered humans at his feet to make this moment perfect.

He walked up and ran a finger through the trickle of come before bringing it around to Spike’s mouth. “Taste your master,” Xander ordered softly, and the mouth obediently opened and Spike sucked on the finger that Xander presented, without even opening his eyes

“Are you mine?” Xander asked curiously. With so little blood in him, Spike would probably not be able to form the coherent thoughts needed to lie. The system wasn’t foolproof, but with young vampires it generally worked.

“Yeah,” Spike agreed without even a hint of rebellion in his voice. Xander smiled triumphantly as he unfastened the silver button of his cuff and pushed up the sleeve.

“Drink, pet, you’ve earned your master’s blood.” Spike’s eyes flashed open at that, brilliant blue eyes that searched his face, and Xander wondered what the young one wanted to see, or perhaps if a question was what he feared seeing.

Xander waited patiently. Spike was his now and he could afford patience as his young one learned to trust him. Spike’s face shifted to his true form before he reached out and sank his teeth into Xander’s arm. Xander threw back his head and felt his lust and cock respond to the feeling of having another feed directly from him. Why had he allowed one disastrous child stop him from taking another, he wondered as he smelled Spike’s own lust rising.

“Enough, little one,” Xander said, and Spike immediately pulled out his teeth although he did continue licking the wound.

“Right, goin’ ta let me up then?” Spike asked salaciously with a wiggle of his body, and Xander heard the chains rattle under the cloak. So his little hellcat was ready for more? The young one was going to have to learn that he had to accept affection on his new Master’s terms.

“No, I rather enjoy the sight of you helpless and at my mercy,” Xander answered.

“Thought you didn’t have mercy?” Spike quickly replied, and Xander smoothed the hair away from his young one’s face.

“I don’t.”

“Good,” Spike said, with a ghost of a naughty little grin. He closed his eyes again, head resting in Xander’s lap, body relaxing into his bonds. Such a perfect child, Xander thought as he sat on the table with his own cock starting to demand release again. Well, what was the point of vampire stamina if not to enjoy it?

Xander was considering how he wanted to use Spike’s body for the second round when he caught the smell. Another master trespassed on his territory. Really it was Spike’s territory, but what had belonged to his pet was now his. Xander slid off the table with a growl, and Spike stiffened.

“Xander?” a low voice rumbled from the shadows under the scaffolding. Xander moved off to the side, keeping his body between the unseen intruder and his pet. He would protect what was his: both his territory and his cherished pet.

Spike raised his head from the table and sighed. “Oi, like my bloody unlife couldn’t get any worse. Got great timin’ there, Peaches.” Xander narrowed his eyes as he prepared for the intruder’s attack.

“Who is out there, little one?” Xander demanded of his pet who still lay bound to the table, covered with only the cloak.

“That’d be Peaches, otherwise known as the worthless sire of my sire, Angelus.” Xander hissed dangerously. He would have killed Angelus anyway, but now that he had claimed his hellcat, he had a more personal reason to destroy a vampire who had harmed what was now his own.

“Shut up, Spike,” the voice commanded even as the shadowy figured advanced. “Xander, we need to talk.”

“Donut boy’s not home right now,” Spike answered.

“Shut up, Spike,” Angelus repeated as he now stepped out of the shadows, and Xander could see that the large vampire had not even switched into his demonic form, a mistake that would be his last.



Part Four


Angelus still had his hands up in some human gesture of surrender, but among vampires there was only one way to surrender, and putting up one’s hands certainly did not qualify.

“You will not use such a disrespectful tone when speaking to my companion and my chosen childe,” Xander said as he eased forward. Like a foolish youth, Angelus’ eyes went to the table, and at the word childe, he growled menacingly. Xander refrained from laughing at such pointless bravado.

“Oi, that’s bloody right, watch your tone, Peaches,” Spike added from his side of the room, and Angelus now turned to look more closely at Spike. His glance froze at the rope securing Spike’s legs to the table, and that was the moment Xander needed. He lunged forward expecting to close his hand around Angelus’ throat just as he had with his Spike, but Angelus was more prepared than Xander counted on. Angelus gracefully sidestepped the attack and spun to launch one of his own. A younger vampire would have gone sailing by, stumbling past and presenting his vulnerable back, but Xander was not a young vampire. He pulled back and braced into the blow so that when Angelus’ bulk hit him he literally tossed the larger vampire to the side.

Xander smiled wickedly at the sound of Angelus falling on one of the many platforms with a nasty crack. Before Angelus could scramble back to his feet, Xander threw a vicious kick, catching the fallen vampire on the side of the head. Angelus went sprawling onto his back with his head making a sickening thump against the cold concrete floor as the body went limp. Xander went for the kill, leaping onto Angelus, but realized one second too late that his prey had once again deceived him.

Moving with the savage grace of a predator, Angel twisted out of the way and neatly aimed his stake for Xander’s heart, but Xander brought his arm down in a sweeping arc and deflected the blow. Of course, he still found himself retreating with a stake in his stomach as Angelus regained his feet, but better than a stake in the heart, Xander mused as he pulled out the offending wood. Ignoring the wound which was already healing, Xander twirled the stake in his fingers as he laughed confidently.

“You seem to have lost your veapon,” he pointed out, but Angelus simply circled with a low growl in his throat. Xander watched the larger vampire warily circle, shifting enough to keep his newly acquired stake poised for the kill. This one had patience and skill, but Xander was growing tired of the game. The fighting and the smell of blood had fired his lust. He needed to go back to his pet. He risked a glance that way, and his young hellcat had managed to stand, his legs spread and tied to the table legs and his arms chained behind his back. Xander found himself both amused by and proud of the expression of concern on his pet’s face. Didn’t his pet trust him to take care of one abomination of a vampire?

Xander may have stolen a look at his beautiful hellion, but he had not taken his attention from the predator stalking him. Angelus obviously had missed that memo because the large vampire rushed him. Xander refrained from going for the heart. Xander danced back as Angelus hissed a Gaelic curse, but the more he fought this powerful creature whose moves included the control of a far older vampire, the more Xander suspected that killing such a beauty before enjoying him would be… unforgivable. Instead he feinted to the side and sunk the stake deep into Angelus’ thigh, pulling it out in a flash as he leapt back across the room.

“That is the vay one fights with a stake. One must never actually let go of the veapon,” Xander informed the snarling Angelus who now leaned heavily against an unstable wooden chair that creaked so that Xander could hear it from 12 feet away. Thigh wounds hurt; this Xander knew from experience. However, Angelus only snarled once before shaking his head and returning to human features.

“Xander, this isn’t you,” Angelus held up a hand, palm first, and Xander fell back in confusion. One minute he was battling a demon worthy of fighting, the next he faced a human who seemed to have lost all survival instincts and common sense. No wonder his little hellcat had so much trouble trusting himself or his new Master.

“But these are my hands, my arm, my legs. I fail to see what is not mine,” Xander commented sarcastically as he held his arms wide as though to display how each part of him was Xander. Angelus ignored the bait.

“You’re not a vampire, Xander. This is a spell, and Giles is going to fix it.”

“I am not the one who seems confused about who he is. About vhat he is,” Xander pointed out as the now human-faced Angelus walked towards him with that palm up gesture that no vampire would ever use.

“If the slayer’s dead little minion sent ya to protect the boy, it’s obvious ya aren’t needed, Peaches,” Spike snapped, and Xander realized that his pet was trying to draw Angelus’ attention, a dangerous move considering his helplessness in chains.

“She’s not dead,” Angelus snapped back.

Spike snorted. “She’s a soddin’ ghost, means she’s dead.”

“Hush, childe,” Xander chided softly. Angelus turned his attention back to Xander, which Xander considered good since his young one could not defend himself.

“Xander, think about it, until tonight you were human,” Angelus argued. At that, Xander truly laughed, and Angelus’ expression grew angry and pinched as he stood with one outstretched hand, and angled his body slightly. Still prepared for a fight, Xander realized.

“I haven’t been human since my sire turned me, to gain revenge against my father for siding with King István,” said Xander loftily. “ *That* was a number of years ago since, as I recall, they were arguing over the new laws that condemned the pagans who worshipped the vampyra as gods.” That got a shocked look. Xander took a risk and turned his back to Angelus as though the vampire meant nothing. Mid turn, he suddenly spun around and attacked, grabbing that foolishly outstretched arm and pulling so that Angelus stumbled forward. Xander neatly slipped the stake between two ribs, puncturing a lung and then retreating as Angelus hissed and slid back into game face.

Normally Xander would consider such a young master below him, but Angelus with his sudden shifts from deadly, confident predator to tentative peacemaker made him difficult to judge, and therefore difficult to defeat. Of course, Xander had no doubt that he would win, but he did start to consider which prize he wanted to claim, so he merely waited for Angelus’ next move, circling.

Angelus fought his way up to one knee, one hand pressed against the fresh wound in his side. His injured leg was clearly slowing him down… at least, so it appeared, but Xander wasn’t going to be tricked into attacking too soon. Not again. Instead he made his next circle wider. He had earlier abandoned a long chain and a whip when he had chosen to take his pet over his knee. Now he returned to that table. Never taking his eyes from his opponent, Xander draped the chain over his shoulder as he took the whip, letting the long tail drag in the dust on the ground. He smiled at the thought of what his Nusa would have done to him for abusing a good whip by dragging it on the concrete.

“Xander, we just need to wait for a while until Giles can undo the spell,” Angelus said reasonably. “This isn’t you.”

Xander looked down at him, raising his chin proudly. “I am Xander sired by Nusa the Strigoi, killer of knights. I have tasted the blood of five slayers and killed the royal dragon of the Shu-hi. My sire ruled her own Hellmouth, and now I claim this Hellmouth as my own, just as I claim Spike of the line Aurelius, childe of Drusilla as my own.” Xander spoke the words slowly, carefully so that Angelus would know who was about to force him to submit. On the last word, he struck out with the whip, aiming for the back of Angelus’ neck.

When Angelus grabbed the whip and tried to pull it from his hand, the trap closed. The chain which he had so carelessly draped over shoulder swung around and hit Angelus on the side of his neck hard enough to knock him off his feet with a grunt of surprise, and this time Xander struck.

He grabbed the arm from Angelus’ uninjured side and looped a length of chain around it even as Angelus struggled to pull himself free. Xander slipped a lock through the links and snapped it shut while keeping hold of the chain’s trailing end. He reached down to grab for Angelus’ other hand, but the vampire again showed control beyond his years. Instead of panicking, Angelus threw himself backwards to land on that dilapidated chair, breaking it and providing himself with a new set of weapons: sharp, jagged, wooden weapons.
Xander wasn’t going to lose his advantage by getting in a fight in such close quarters. The oldest and wisest could sometimes get caught by a lucky strike with a stake, and Xander was too old and too wise to ignore that danger. However, Xander did not release the chain either. Angelus would be his. He darted back and used it as a leash, pulling the vampire off balance with unpredictable jerks that made Angelus move exactly where Xander dragged him. Angelus didn’t go easily; he snarled and counterattacked, swinging his makeshift stake dangerously close. One last quick dart backwards, and Xander stood below a draped chain. He reached up, lock in hand, and clicked the wrist leash to chain dangling conveniently from a beam overhead, the padlock closing with a snick just in time for him to jump backwards and out of reach.

“Bloody hell,” Spike softly cursed, and Xander didn’t answer his pet. Now was the time for another type of fight all together.

Xander stepped back to consider his captive in the dim light of the warehouse. Angelus’ hand gripped his stake, his knuckles turning white. Xander wished for a moment that he had a way to winch up the chain, to watch Angelus pulled to his toes and struggling to keep his balance. Xander lightly palmed his erection through his pants as he considered the pleasure of watching such a sight, but it was not to be this night.

Instead, Angelus had enough chain to stand with his hands at his waist as he kept his defensive stance. He would be better off submitting, begging to be taken into the court of his elders, but Xander looked at those furious eyes that followed him and smelled the anger. No, this was not one who would submit, and if he did play at submission in order to save his neck, he would not submit for long. This was a toy to play with and discard. Here was a body that would move as gracefully under him as it had in their fight, and Xander knew exactly how to make that happen whether or not Angelus volunteered.

Xander walked over to the shelf and bent down to retrieve the dusty crossbow he had seen earlier. Weapon in hand, he walked back to the table where his pet stood. He ran a hand across Spike’s back before he stooped to pick up the fallen cloak without saying a word. Talking was for those who needed to cover their fear or their incompetence: Xander had no such need.

He sat on the table and reached out for the back of Spike’s neck, pulling his pet back down into his lap as he once again draped the cloak over that bound and naked body. He would not expose his pet to Angelus’ gaze, even if his pet had exposed himself by allowing the cloak to drop. The silence fell heavy, and Xander understood the mute war between himself and Angelus. Angelus was trapped, unable to hide from the crossbow. Xander calmly waited to hear Angelus’ plea so that he could begin to understand how to put pressure on his new prey. Oh, Angelus would never replace his Spike, but he could be entertaining for a night or two before Xander tied him to a tree and left him for the sun.

Xander put the crossbow on the table next to his leg and softly stroked Spike’s cheek. His hellcat’s body was tense and rigid, his head still angled up and staring at Angelus. Xander put gentle pressure on Spike’s head, and Spike slowly lowered his head to Xander’s lap. Xander didn’t miss the low guttural snarl from Angelus, and that was one weakness with which to amuse himself. Xander pulled the cloak down some so that Spike’s ass was covered but Angelus could watch Xander caress his pet’s back and shoulders. Oh yes, that was a weakness. Angelus pulled at the chain as though he could rip it from the ceiling.

“Xander, you’re going to hate yourself when the spell ends and you wake up,” Angelus snapped.

“No, Angelus, I will not,” Xander replied calmly, and there was another weakness exposed. Angelus assumed that anyone who so cherished Spike would be sorry later. Clearly the Aurelius master either blamed Spike for some great transgression, or perhaps blamed himself in some way. The second fit better with what he knew of Angelus’ curse. Besides, while Xander could imagine Spike harassing and annoying his elders to distraction, he could not imagine such a pet inspiring such hatred. He simply continued stroking the lovely back and watching Angelus’ increasingly desperate struggles.

“I go by Angel. You know that, Xander.” Xander didn’t even bother answering that one. The entire Aurelius line was obviously infected by insanity, not that he cared in the case of his pet. Right now, though, he had a cock hard with lust and two powerful young vampires with whom to play. Spike either feared Angelus or feared disappointing Angelus. For his part, Angelus hated that someone else touched the fierce little hellcat, and yet had never managed to hold the younger vampire’s loyalty. How to make use of such information?

Xander picked up the crossbow and aimed it at Angel while still stroking Spike’s side. Yes, pointing the weapon one handed was rather arrogant and a tad flashy, but Xander had always been famous for being both. Sometimes it really was all about style.

“Toss the stake away, Angel,” Xander put a mocking emphasis on the name. Angel stared at him, silent and immobile for several minutes. Xander returned the stare, coldly willing to turn the pretty toy to dust, but certainly hoping he didn’t have to before enjoying full use of it. Finally, Angel tossed the piece of wood far out of reach. Xander visually checked for any other possible weapon, but the overhead chain was far enough from any table or platform or chair. Xander slid out from under Spike’s head and knelt down to untie the ropes.

“‘Bout time, losin’ circulation here,” Spike complained mildly. Xander reached out and pulled the cloak off before using the chain that bound Spike’s wrists to help him stand. Spike’s cock bobbed comically despite his earlier release, and Xander could imagine the pleasure one would feel at seeing two masters fight over oneself. With a new game in mind, Xander guided Spike over towards Angel, keeping him just out of reach before stopping him.

“Spread your legs,” Xander ordered, and Spike obeyed after a quick glance at Angel. Both vampires needed this lesson. Xander moved up behind Spike, pressing his clothed body against Spike’s back, and Spike’s trapped hands moved for his belt. Clever fingers worked into the waistband of his pants, and Xander allowed his pet this subtle disobedience even as he reached around and ran a hand over his beauty’s side and stomach.

“To whom do you belong?” Xander asked loud enough for Angel to hear. Again, the momentary flash of something… fear perhaps or perhaps just a reluctance to allow his former master to see him obedient to another. Of course, Spike’s position was already quite clear as he stood with his legs spread and his erect cock displayed, leaning back into Xander’s embrace and allowing his new master to support much of his weight.

“I belong to Xander sired by Nusa the Strigoi, killer of knights,” Spike answered. He began quietly, hesitating over the word “belong”, but by the end, Spike’s voice was not only strong but also defiant. Yes, let the young one defy his old master as he demonstrated loyalty to his new one. Xander rewarded his pet by running his fingernails across Spike’s stomach just hard enough to leave subtle trails of red on pale skin that made his pet shiver happily.

“Who do you serve?”

“I serve you; I obey you.” No hesitation at all that time. Xander reached around to caress the head of Spike’s cock, making the younger vampire moan and thrust while Angel snarled and pulled at the chain again.

“What is your line?”

“Turned by Drusilla granddaughter of Darla, favored childe of the Master of the Aurelius line; sired by Xander childe of Nusa the Strigoi, daughter of Dracula, Master of the Dracul line.” Xander sneered at Angel who had nearly dislocated his arm at that declaration. Angel thrashed and pulled at the chain so that the links rattled loudly and dust from the beam overhead drifted down. His pet would always have the blood of the Aurelius, but he would accept Xander as sire and teacher. The demon within this soul-maddened vampire would have to learn to live with that loss.
“Spike, don’t ye play this game, boy.” Xander felt Spike’s back go stiff at the threat even though he continued to move into Xander’s hand as though the words meant nothing to him. Oh, so the Master of the Aurelius line cared. Xander would have wept at the sheer pathos of the situation: a sire who wished to sire, and a childe who wished to be a childe and neither willing to turn to each other. He would have wept, except for the fact that he couldn’t care less about the tiresome insanities of the Aurelius line. Angel’s incompetence meant that Spike was now and would always be his.

“If you truly have a soul, if you relinquish all claims to your vampire heritage, why do you care who Spike claims as sire?” Xander asked with feigned surprise. “You have given up on being a vampire, yes?” Angel’s only answer was a growl, but Xander didn’t expect an answer. He could smell the animal blood infecting Angel… blood that proved just how far Angel would go to deny his nature. However, he could also smell Angel’s steadily growing lust which proved no vampire could deny his true nature forever. Of course right now he could also smell Spike’s nearing orgasm.

He pulled his hand back, and Spike nearly lost his balance trying to continue thrusting with his legs still spread and his arms chained behind him. Xander quickly wrapped an arm around Spike’s waist and pulled the smaller vampire back against him even as Angel went into game face. Xander then learned the depths of his hellcat’s sadism as Spike tilted his head to the side in clear submission, leaning his head back so that the front of his neck curved out. It was a gesture no vampire would make lightly, and Angel yanked the chain so hard that Xander could smell the blood from where he had stripped skin from his wrists. Even the smell of fresh vampire blood couldn’t mask the lust that bloomed in Angel’s scent when Spike submitted. If his pretty hellion wanted to help torture Angel, he could arrange that too.

“Go to the table,” Xander ordered as he returned to the shelves. He retrieved the equipment he needed and turned around to find Spike bent over the side of the table so that Angel had a perfect view of his ass. Not surprisingly, Angel couldn’t take his eyes from it. Xander chuckled softly at the childish antics. He walked to his pet and slapped him hard on his already-welted ass.

“Oi, watch the goods,” Spike complained loudly. Give the boy an audience, and that attitude really became quite entertaining, Xander realized. Xander didn’t respond as he unlocked first the chain around Spike’s waist and then the loops around each wrist. Spike pulled his wrists around to the front where he rubbed them, and Xander gestured at the table.

“Face up,” he said with the ropes from the shelf in hand. Spike gave him a dirty leer complete with a cocked eyebrow.

“Got a bit of a kink there, do ya?” Spike asked.

“I’m a vampire, little one. Ve all have kinks.” Xander replied as he tried to stifle the urge to laugh. Really the boy needed to learn to obey faster, but Xander couldn’t get upset when the delays were so amusing. Xander gave Spike a swift swat on the leg, and Spike hopped up so his butt was on the table before he swung his legs to the side and lay down.

Xander gave Angel an appraising look before walking to the end of the table and positioning Spike: legs wide open, butt about a third of the way down the table, arms stretched over his head. Xander spared a single lingering touch down the side of Spike’s rigid and tight cock which twitched with need. Xander then quickly secured each of Spike’s limbs to a table leg using rope so that his pet would hold position. Spike pulled slightly against each of the restraints before relaxing.

Xander walked to the far side of the table so that he could stroke his pet’s vulnerable and helpless body as he watched Angel who still fought the chain. At least he fought the chain between bouts of standing perfectly still staring at Spike’s bound and aroused body.

Xander watched, fascinated as the cycle continued. Angel would stare for several seconds, the musk of vampire lust heavy from him, and then he would jerk his eyes away as though burned and stare somewhere else. Xander could imagine the pain his young one had suffered through such apparent rejection. To have a sire not want one, not desire one, not throw one down on the floor and use one… such cruelty. And while cruelty to a human or one’s enemies was to be admired, Xander did not understand how Angel could be cruel to one who had called him sire. The Aurelius line truly was flawed beyond saving. “So, do you vant to hear the game?” he asked with a slow, sinful smile.



Part Five



Angel stood silent, a wary expression on his face as he backed up as far as the chain allowed. Oh yes, he was just no starting to realize how much trouble he was in, and Xander took a moment to enjoy the expression of trapped panic.

“I’m not in the mood for games,” Angel answered without looking directly at him. Right now Angel appeared to be fascinated with the ceiling.

“This one you will like. If you vin it, I keep you around for another day.” Xander allowed his hand to trail down his pet’s inside thigh making both of his captured prey groan. So Angel’s attention was not so distracted after all. “Of course, if you lose the game, I’ll pour holy water down your throat and vatch you writhe in agony until the holy water travels to enough cells in your body for you to turn to dust.” Angel’s head snapped down and Angel stared at him, fear evident in his smell for the first time.

“Xander, you do not want to do this. Torture… torture is not something you want to remember.”

“Of course it is. I remember a villager who offended my Nusa; I tortured him until he begged me for mercy and offered to eat his own genitals,” Xander replied dismissively. “So, do you want to play or shall we move straight to the holy water?”

“Xander, please…” Xander cut off the plea with a single gesture of his hand.

“Play— holy water. Your choice.” Xander stared at Angel, wondering for the first time if Angel would truly chose final death over submission, but in the end, Angel’s eyes dropped to the floor.

“Play,” Angel softly said. Xander smiled benevolently as he left his pet and stood just outside of Angel’s reach.

“The game is easy. If Spike comes first, you win. If I come first, I win. If you come first, it’s a draw and we play again.” Xander explained the rules and then held up a short chain he had retrieved from a nearby table. “Hands behind your back,” he ordered with a smile.

Again Angel stood silent and stared as if waiting for Xander to change his mind, his face frozen into an expression of indifference that didn’t match the scent of panic and lust he sent into the still air of the warehouse.. Xander simply held up the chain and rattled it, and Angel finally turned around putting his hands behind his back. Xander quickly locked chains around Angel’s hands and then unlocked the original chain from the beam before leading Angel over to the table. Spike waited there with the most deliciously confused expression, eyes never leaving Xander’s face.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Xander purred as he stopped Angel at the end of the table so that they could both admire his hellcat’s strong body laid out like an offering. “Strong, intelligent, graceful… sarcastic.” Xander could now smell the lust coming from Angel in waves, and he knew Spike could as well. Besides the obvious entertainment value, this game had two goals: Angel would have to face his guilt, and Spike would learn that he was worth wanting. Sometimes Xander amazed himself with his good ideas. However, Angel seemed less enthusiastic if the silence was any indication, and Spike’ erection was definitely lagging.

“Hmm, I think you’re starting at a disadvantage,” Xander said mildly as he unfastened Angel’s jeans and pulled them off. The underwear went next, and now Angel couldn’t pretend that he didn’t notice Spike’s beauty. Angel’s cock jutted out, fully erect, and with the exposure of the cock, the smell of Angel’s lust almost overpowered Xander.

Xander nudged Angel to move him forward, but the large vampire stood transfixed, cock twitching as his eyes roamed over Spike’s bound and naked form. Xander had thought that the contest would be between his pet’s release and his own, but now he considered that Angel might actually earn a draw. Of course, he wouldn’t mind repeating this particular game, so he could certainly accept that result.

Xander nudged Angel again, harder this time, and Angel rocked forward and then rocked back without losing focus on Spike or acknowledging the tacit command. “Move,” Xander finally ordered with a third push, and Angel stepped forward mechanically. Xander used chains to secure Angel’s feet to the table legs so that he stood with his legs open, exposed and vulnerable at the end of the table.

Like Spike earlier, Angel started to rub his erection against the edge of the table, and Xander brought Angel back to reality with a sharp slap on the ass. Instantly Angel froze, and Xander could smell a wave of shame replace the earlier lust. Strange vampire. Xander unlocked Angel’s wrists, and Angel’s hands just fell to his sides.

“Strip,” Xander ordered. He didn’t need Angel naked for this, but he didn’t want Angel dressed while his own pet was laid out without any clothes. Besides, the feel of Xander’s pants and silk shirt against Angel’s bare skin would remind him of his place, and Xander found himself mildly surprised when the order caused Angel to harden more.

Perhaps Spike wasn’t the only one to miss the games one’s elders inevitably played with one. Angel unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it to the ground behind him, and now Xander could see the strong body with which Angel had been blessed. He had heard of how this one had taken his name from a victim who described him as having the beauty of an angel, and Xander agreed. The vampire before him had the classic lines Xander had seen in the artwork of Italy, where five centuries ago artists would have paid to sculpt his body into stone.

Now that Angel stood naked with his legs chained open, Xander knew that he would have to move carefully to avoid winning this game. This was a vampire worth fucking, even if he was an abomination that needed to eventually be destroyed. It’s just that Xander found himself revising that date farther into the future with each second that he saw that strong, body chained and vulnerable. However, his pet needed convincing. Each time a wave of shame would flow from Angel, his own pet’s erection would wane.

Xander turned his attention to his young one, who lay with an expression of indifference directed at Angel, but Xander knew that Spike was far from indifferent. “To whom do you belong?” Xander demanded as he laid a hand on his pet’s tense arm. The muscles relaxed under his fingers, and Xander felt his cock react to such willing obedience.

“I belong to Xander sired by Nusa the Strigoi, killer of knights.” Spike looked at him with wide eyes that bordered on panic.

“And I give you the gift of your previous sire’s submission,” Xander said quietly as he now stared right at Angel and stroked Spike’s forehead. Another trip to that shelf on which Spike had laid out so many toys. Xander smiled at the thought of the many weeks it would take him to make use of them all. This time, Xander selected a short chain that had heavy, thick iron manacles attached.

Angel now turned awkwardly to watch him, his legs open and vulnerable and his body twisted. Xander smugly held up the manacles as he returned to the table. He expected a fight, but Angel sighed heavily and held out his hands even as he rolled his eyes. Nevertheless, Xander felt the slight tremble in those arms. Almost sorry that Angel had not fought him, Xander quickly snapped the manacles on Angel’s wrists as the tall vampire silently watched.

Xander ran his hand down the length of Angel’s arm, stopping at the manacles before he took that connecting chain in hand, controlling Angel’s hands and controlling Angel as he stepped behind him and leaned in so that Angel was trapped between the table and Xander’s own bulk. At first, Xander could feel those muscles tense as though waiting for the attack, but Xander simply held the chain in one hand while allowing his free hand to explore whichever parts he could reach: a hip, a curving shoulder, a patch of curled coarse hair, a rippled stomach.

Eventually Angel’s muscles began to relax, and Xander stepped back as he went for the next toy. Yes, Angel wanted his freedom and was a master who would not submit for any length of time, but Xander could feel the threads of what had once been Angel’s need to submit to his own sire. He could sense the shadow of that need, and he could use it to manipulate Angel, even if he could never truly trust one who had been corrupted with a human soul.

Stopping at his pet’s side, Xander lowered his head to drop a kiss on his hellcat’s lips.

“My childe,” Xander whispered, and Spike’s body shivered in its bonds.

“Is someone goin’ ta soddin’ do something? Gettin’ bored here,” Spike complained, but at the same time he licked his lips and smiled with the tip of that tongue still visible. Xander groaned in desire, and Spike shifted into game face without moving that tongue. Oh yes, Xander was going to have to show a lot of restraint with two such perfect creatures naked and waiting to serve him.

Xander took a short length of chain and turned back to Angel, reaching up and caressing Angel’s neck before encircling it with the heavy chain. Angel refused to look at him, stonily focusing instead on the distant depths of the warehouse, but Xander was patient. He simply pulled up on the chain connecting the manacles, padlocking the center link from the manacles to the makeshift collar so that Angel’s hands were held awkwardly close to his head.

“So beautiful,” Xander said as he ran a hand down Angel’s broad back before stroking the inside of Spike’s thigh. When he found the wizard or witch who had brought him to his Hellmouth, Xander fully intended to reward that person for providing him with such treats. He backed away from the table so he could better enjoy the sight of the two bound and naked vampires.

“Angel, you may do anything you like to ensure Spike is the first to come and earn yourself my protection for the evening. Meanwhile, I will be amusing myself.” Xander stepped back and unzipped his own pants, allowing his erect cock to appear, startlingly pale against the black fabric. Xander thumbed the bead of precum at the slit, and smoothed it down the shaft. Angel looked over, eyes darting down to Xander’s erection, and when Angel made eye contact again, Xander gave an evil little grin. So far, he was well on his way to winning.

Angel looked down at Spike with an inscrutable expression for several moments before he wordlessly bent over so that his body rested on the table between Spike’s legs, and his head lined up with Spike’s groin.

Spike hissed in pleasure when Angel’s tongue touched his cock, and Xander squeezed the base of his own cock to keep himself from ending the game as he watched Angel take his pet into his mouth. “Bloody hell, yes,” Spike gasped, and Xander squirmed at the sight of Angel’s cheeks puffing out as his mouth filled, sucking Spike’s cock down to the root.

Xander watched as Spike writhed to a chorus of “yes” and “hell, yes” and “fucking hell, yes.” Finally, Spike reared up against the ropes, mindlessly driving himself into his previous sire’s mouth. Now those chained hands came into play as Angel pushed Spike’s hips back down, holding him still as he pulled up so that only the head of Spike’s cock was in his mouth. Xander could only imagine what Angel was doing with his tongue to make Spike moan and thrash on the table even harder.

Xander took a step towards the table and Angel stopped with Spike’s cock still filling his mouth. Brown eyes turned toward Xander, glaring at him with the fire of lust and fury as Spike complained and threatened imminent death if someone didn’t get him off. After a brief moment, Angel started again, his lips stretched in an ‘O’ as he slid up and down on Spike’s erection, his large hands braced on Spike’s hips, his fingers spread out over Spike’s pale skin .

With Spike now so shudderingly close to coming, Xander stepped up behind Angel and without warning slid a finger inside that undefended entrance. Xander could feel Angel clench around his finger, but the vampire’s erection didn’t wane at all. Xander pulled out and tore a gash in his fingertip before he rubbed at the outside of that tight pucker and then plunged in again.

Oh he had not enjoyed a night like this for over a century. Xander added a second finger. Now Angel fought, his legs struggling to close against the invasion and his inner muscles spasmed and trembled, but Angel’s head continued bobbing in service to Spike. Xander spread the fingers and felt Angel’s muscles fight him.

“If you vant to avoid being ripped open, I suggest you stop fighting,” Xander advised mildly, and Angel froze. Spike’s “Oi” of complaint caused Angel’s head to resume its rhythmic movement, but Xander’s fingers now moved much easily. Oh yes, this might be a master independent of his own sire, but he still felt the thrill of being possessed. Xander could relate, he was 400 when his sire died at the hands of the traitor, and until the day she died, an order from her to strip and present himself never failed to excite him.

Xander reached around and gathered precum from Angel’s own erection to help ease the passage, and Angel thrust forward wildly at the touch. Angel nearly managed to earn a draw, and Xander vowed not to touch the vampire’s cock again until either he or his pet had finished.

Xander took his own erection in hand and slowly pressed up against Angel, moving slowly so that the silk of his shirt slid against the bare skin of Angel’s back. He had to press just to get the head to pop in, and then Xander stopped. Yes, sometimes the lack of pain was the greatest torture, so he pushed in slowly while Angel now started gurgling moans of his own. That sent Spike into an even fiercer series of struggles. When he felt his balls press up against Angel’s ass, he braced himself on Angel’s prone back. He pulled out and thrust in again in one swift, brutal motion that elicited an excited growl from Angel which Xander answered with a deeper growl of his own.

Angel was now the one who fought against the restraints, the movements of his head losing their pattern as his own body demanded release. Spike didn’t seem to mind. Xander thrust in again, and pushed himself up against Angel’s larger frame as he reached around to pinch a nipple. Angel now squirmed as his head moved faster and his moans grew loud enough that they might have rivaled Spike’s own had Angel not been gagged with Spike’s cock.

Xander promised himself that he would assemble his court before destroying Angel because he wished to put another in his own place so that he could watch. He imagined Angel’s eyes closed in ecstasy as his lips stretched around Spike’s cock, and he nearly lost control of his own orgasm. Really, he didn’t know how his pet was managing to control himself for so long.

His own precum and Angel’s blood slicked the passage so that he could thrust easily, angling his thrusts so that Angel groaned and squirmed with each thrust. Angel’s own cock hung neglected and hard as he served others. He drove into Angel’s body over and over as he reached up to pull fingernails down Angel’s back hard enough to draw a thin line of blood to the surface.

Xander was about to forget his plan in favor of enjoying a well-earned orgasm when he smelled Spike’s release and heard his pet growl his completion. Xander thrust in one last time before dropping his weight onto Angel’s back and sinking his fangs into Angel’s neck. He drank deeply as his orgasm spilled out into Angel. Never one to torture a fellow vampire more than necessary for his own pleasure, he reached around and closed his fist around Angel’s erection and Angel lost no time in fucking the fist until his own orgasm ripped through him a second later. The three lay together on the table and Xander knew bliss.

Xander slowly pulled out of Angel’s neck, allowing his weight to rest on Angel’s back as he licked the wound closed. He pulled his hand up to his mouth and tasted Angel as he lay on that large body, enjoying the sated feeling from having fed and fucked for the second time.

He would have to find a more secure lair soon because he wanted to play just one more game before curling up to sleep the day out between his new child and his chained slave. From the smells below him, he didn’t think he would have any complaints about the plan. Eventually, he stood and closed his pants as he walked to the side of the table.

He considered the table with pleasure. Spike lay with his eyes closed and his body limp with satisfaction. Angel lay with his cheek against Spike’s thigh, his brown eyes watching Xander with a weary sadness, and Xander smiled as he reached over to touch that thick brown hair.

“I guess you von that game,” Xander said, and Angel just closed his eyes. Again, the smell of shame flared, and Xander could see his pet tense. Given time he would teach Angel not to feel shame for his own needs and, more importantly, he would show Spike that he was desirable.

One of Angel’s hands rested in a fist by Spike’s cock, and Xander put his own hand over it, slowly uncurling it so that Angel’s open hand rested on the tender skin of Spike’s inner thigh.

“It’s who ve are,” Xander whispered before he turned to go get… get what? Where were the little sugar-hyped rug rats Snyder had stuck him with? Xander felt a moment of utter panic as two sets of memories suddenly collided.


Part Six


Oh shit, to hell with the children, he had to have dreamed it. One very long 900 year dream, and when he turned around he was going to find an empty warehouse. Or possibly a warehouse full of vampires who wanted to kill him, and actually that might be of the good.

Xander turned around to see Angel and Spike exactly where he remembered leaving them… or rather right where he remembered the being that had been walking around in his skin leaving them. And oh shit. Xander felt his cock rise at the sight of the two vampires chained together and waiting for him to do something. A pair of brown eyes opened slowly.

“Xander?” Angel asked, and if he didn’t know better, Xander would have sworn he heard concern and uncertainty in that voice which had always seemed to know everything.

“Oh shit.” Xander said after spitting out a pair of plastic vampire teeth. Naked vampires. Sexy naked vampires. He looked everywhere except at the two naked, sexy bodies in front of him. Not looking at that, nope. Not at all.

“Bloody hell,” a voice tiredly swore, and Xander felt a pull toward that voice—he shouldn’t let Spike feel such despair, but then hey, vampire… he was supposed to hate vampires. He *did* hate vampires, and why didn’t that sound convincing? Xander shook his head as though he could shake the new memories out.

“Xander, are you alright?” Xander snorted at that question. Angel was asking if his rapist was alright. Oh shit. He was; he was a rapist. Sure he’d tried with Buffy, but he hadn’t actually hurt her, and what did it say about him that every time he went and got possessed he got all pervy? And again with the so not going there.

“Xander, it was a spell. You need to get the keys for the locks.” Xander looked up, and Angel still lay with his head against Spike’s thigh, and Spike’s hands had closed into tight fists. Xander searched Spike’s expression, but the younger vampire stared off in the opposite direction with a face frozen in a sneer.

“Try talkin’ slower, Peaches, boy’s a bit slow.” Spike finally said even as he looked off into the darkness. Xander opened his mouth, a reprimand automatically coming to his lips, but then he closed it again. He had no right to reprimand Spike. He shouldn’t even be in the same room with Spike without Buffy to hide behind. So why did he care so damn much that Spike would say such a thing?

“Shut up, Spike,” Angel ordered, but even Xander could tell that Angel lost some authority while naked, chained, and lying on top of Spike while smelling of Spike’s come. And that should not be a sexy thought. The sight of a drop of Spike’s come on Angel’s chin should not be sexy because he was not gay! Not gay and not attracted to sexy, naked, tied up vampires. Looking at the evidence of his guilt, Xander felt a desire to just run right out of the building, but he had never run when things got hard before and he wasn’t going to start now.

“Keys… right,” he said quietly as he went to the shelf where he had stacked each key carefully. Taking them all he walked toward the table and stopped at the sight of Angel’s still vulnerable ass with Xander’s come trickling down his exposed thighs. Angel’s struggles had shifted the chains on his legs so that he couldn’t stand, and Xander was not noticing how that looked with the thick metal links pressing into pale flesh. His cock was not reacting to the sight of two such powerful creatures bound and helpless because he had defeated them, chained them, and claimed them. And oh god, he was so gay.

Shit, things had been so simple a few minutes ago, but now Xander bent down near the locks. The smell of musk was stronger here, and Xander’s eyes noticed the shimmer of liquid on the floor under the table. Angel’s come, he realized.

He remembered the feeling of Angel writhing under him as Spike growled his pleasure, and Xander snapped open the two locks before he could do something he would regret. Well, something else he would regret because he had plenty of the regret worthy now without running his hands down those strong limbs. He unwound the chains so that Angel could struggle to his feet without wrapping his fingers around Angel’s neck in order to control the vampire’s movements, and why did he feel such a strong desire to do both?

“Oi, watch your hands, ya wanker,” Spike complained from the table as Angel struggled up, and then Xander handed Angel two keys, one to the padlock around his neck and one to the manacles. The sight of Spike’s slender wrists encircled with rope made him want things Xander Lavelle Harris just simply did not want. No wanting here. He just needed to get that message to his quickly hardening cock.

“Xander, wait outside,” Angel ordered, and Xander could hear the sounds of metal grinding on metal as Angel freed himself. Yesterday he would have listened to that order, he would have complained and griped and tattled to Buffy about Angel ordering him around, but he would have listened and obeyed. Now Xander felt his face flush and his temper rise at Angel’s temerity for trying to order him around.

Of course, Xander didn’t even process the meaning of Angel’s words until he heard the table groan. He looked over to see Spike putting every fiber of muscle into breaking the ropes that held him. His arm muscles stood out in sharp curves and his eyes pressed closed so tightly that wrinkles appeared at the corners. In a flash Xander knew what Angel planned; after all, they were vampires and in the world of vampires there were winners and losers, and the losers died. Spike had trusted the wrong person; Spike was helpless, and Xander should want an evil vampire turned to dust. He was a Scoobie, which meant he should say, “Yes, Angel” and wait by the door as Angel did what he always did, clean up the evil that was too much for children’s eyes.

“No,” Xander all but snarled. He was no child.

“Xander,” Angel turned toward him with a low guttural tone of warning.

“Not a chance,” Xander snarled as he stepped forward. Angel still stood naked, and Xander watched with a feral grin as he realized the advantage his own clothed state gave him.

“Fine, I’ll do it with you here.” Angel turned to pick up a shard of wood from the floor and Xander glanced at Spike who lay spread eagled like a sacrificial victim, his eyes closed and his lips pressed into a thin line. Rather than beg or offer to submit or promise to leave town, Spike lay there silent, and Xander couldn’t do it. More importantly, he couldn’t allow Angel to do it.

Angel turned back around with a stake in hand, but Xander had already grabbed a piece of that broken chair as he put himself between Angel and the Spike for the second time.

“Xander, move.” Angel lowered his brow in an expression of determination that should have sent Xander running. Instead Xander gripped his broken wood hard enough that he could feel the sharp edge digging into his palm.

“Not a chance. You want to dust him, you can just cut him free and give him a fighting chance.” Xander spoke in a low, strong voice that he could barely even recognize as his own as he faced down a master vampire.

“Xander,” and again with the dark tones of warning.

“It takes a pretty damn weak vamp to dust someone like this. It’s not like you tied him up; in fact, you’ve been pretty pathetically bad at stopping Spike at all.” Xander snapped back, verbally striking out at Angelus’ weak spot. Angel’s eyes flashed yellow, and then an expression of sad calmness overtook his features.

“Xander, this is not the time.”

“Yes, Angel, it is,” Xander dropped his own voice in challenge. “I’m not going to let you kill him after I tied him up for you.” Xander stepped backwards and started working the ropes around Spike’s hand. For one moment, Xander caught Spike’s eye and the surprise on that face made him momentarily freeze. Spike hadn’t expected to be protected; he had expected Angel to stake him as Xander stood by, and Xander felt his heart tighten in pain. He broke eye contact as he turned his attention back to the knots that Spike had pulled tight and to Angel who stood glowering.

“Yeah, not right ta kill someone who’s all helpless,” Spike finally added snarkily.

Angel snapped, “Shut up, Spike,” at the same time Xander commented, “You’re not helping here.”

“Wanker,” Spike replied, and Xander wasn’t even sure who that was directed toward. The last bit of the knot came free and Xander glanced down as Spike shook his hand to get rid of the rope still dangling from his wrist. Xander reached out and grabbed the trailing ends, and Spike froze, staring at Xander, and Xander’s eyes felt suddenly warm as he saw the open pain.

Before he could say anything, Spike had snatched his hand away with a hiss, and Xander was left with rope burn along the length of his palm. Xander then stepped away from the table as Spike worked the other knots himself. Unwilling to see that pain again, Xander turned his back and concentrated on protecting Spike from Angel who had an expression of disbelief, which looked pretty much like every other expression Angel had except for the mouth that actually hung open.

Xander continued to stare Angel down as he listened to Spike shuffle around behind him. It gave him lots of time to consider just how stupid he was for turning his back to Spike with all the broken wood on the floor, but he wouldn’t even blame Spike if he found a piece of wood suddenly sticking out of his back. He really did have it coming because he understood just how much he had damaged Spike with the forced submission and the promises that Xander was now unable to keep. He understood in the way that only a vampire could understand.

“Bloody loons in this town. Soon as Dru’s alright, you can have your soddin’ Hellmouth back, and I hope it swallows both of you.” Spike snarled his anger, but the pain hadn’t disappeared from his face totally. Xander listened to Spike’s boots echo across the concrete, the steps growing increasingly distant and speeding up as Spike ran for an exit. Which left just one horrifyingly horrible problem. Xander kept looking at Angel, and finally the older vampire sighed as he started walking towards Xander. Xander backed up quickly, but Angel simply stopped near the table to retrieve his clothes.

Angel had finished putting on his pants and was buttoning his shirt when he suddenly looked up.

“Is that my shirt?” Angel asked. Xander almost laughed out loud. Not what he really thought they’d discuss, but as he looked down at the red silk with fancy silver buttons, he realized it was.


“How’d… never mind,” Angel said with a tired sigh and Xander moved closer to sit on the edge of the table as Angel knelt down to put on his shoes. When Angel finished, he moved to sit on the table beside Xander, and that wasn’t awkward at all… no desire to flee in horror, Xander mused as he tried to figure out what to say because the silence was getting creepy.

“Um, I’m not really sure what to say here other than this big awkward silence is really just… awkward. Well that, and I am really sorry. Really, really sorry. Completely humiliated, mortified, and sorry.” Xander stared at his shoes.

“Xander,” Angel interrupted. “It’s okay.”

“I don’t know how you could call that alright. That was as far from alright as… oh shit. I ate Larry.”

“You remember?”

“I remember 900 years of torturing and killing and really kinda liking it.” Xander thought back over the centuries of murder and pervy sex and sitting at his Nusa’s feet and battle with the smell of blood heavy in his nose, and he really needed to stop before he made an indecent proposal to his friend’s boyfriend. And oh shit, Angel had vamp smell. Since he knew Angel would have already smelled him, Xander just reached down and adjusted his pants which had grown suddenly tight.

“Oh,” Angel’s toneless answer revealed nothing, and Xander looked over at that stony face. He never had been good at reading human faces, but he now realized that Angel was the one person in the universe who did understand how that felt.

“Sucks, huh?” he asked, and Angel looked over at him in surprise.

“Yeah,” Angel agreed. Xander sat there silently. He knew that he hadn’t actually done the things he remembered, but Angel had. When Angel remembered torture, he was remembering his past and not some spell induced hallucination.

“Does it get… ‘easier’ is really sounding like a bad word to use here, but I don’t know, less vivid? ‘Cause I can do without the Technicolor memory of human organs.”

“Not for me.” Angel said quietly. Xander couldn’t even come up with an answer for that, so he just sat silently next to Angel without even baiting the vampire.

“Are we bonding?” Angel asked after a long silence as they sat in the dark surrounded by the remains of what, in vampire terms, had been a wonderful evening.

“God I hope not,” Xander answered, but without much enthusiasm for his traditional Angel bashing. The world looked so different with nine hundred years of experience whispering new truths in his ear. The evil and soulless Spike needed him, a concept that he was planning on repressing, possibly with large amounts of illegally obtained alcohol. The souled Angel actually had a reason to brood, and he was never going to admit that one out loud. Giles and the Watchers had no clue about what really drove a vampire, and he wasn’t about to explain. If he was lucky, the memories would fade with the magic.

“Would you have killed me?” Angel finally asked.

“Fuck, yeah,” Xander replied quietly. He knew what Angel really needed to know; Angel needed to know who had forced him to submit—it was a vampire thing. “I was Xander childe of Nusa, one seriously bad-ass vamp who thought you were this abomination that someone needed to put down, but just not until after a whole lot of kinky sex.” Xander froze. “And I did not just say that last bit. You imagined it… you must be suffering blood loss.” Angel laughed softly while Xander froze again as he remembered why Angel was suffering blood loss.

“I figured that part out already.” Angel said with amusement.

“And I am so going to hell for that part.” Xander fell silent, and with Angel being his usual chatty self, the sounds of the wind against the corrugated metal roof dominated the night.

“It wasn’t really you, Xander.”

“It feels like it was me.” Xander admitted. He didn’t know why he needed Angel to understand how real the memories were for him, but he did.

“You were just being a vampire and following your instincts,” Angel amended himself.

“Spike is going to kill me,” Xander finally said even though he knew that Spike would never hurt him, at least not unless it was a good kinda hurt or the kind of hurt that led to Xander developing a serious allergy to the sun. Actually, the one Xander worried about killing him was sitting right next to him, but he wasn’t about to say that.

“I think Spike is going to try to forget this ever happened,” Angel said, and Xander knew the statement was true of more than just Spike.

“Not gonna happen.” Xander replied knowingly.

“No.” Angel agreed. Xander waited for something that told him how to handle the situation, but even his new memories couldn’t come up with an effective way of dealing with this particular mess.

“So, what are we going to te…” Xander cut his words short when Angel jumped off the table and started for the doorway.

“Absolutely nothing,” Angel said as he strode toward one of the many exits.

“I can live with that,” Xander agreed as he looked around one last time. The chains still draped down from the ceiling, one single length where Xander had chained Angel hanging lower than the others. Chains and ropes littered the various tables, and the crossbow sat on a low chair near the wooden shards of the chair Angel had crushed and then used as a weapon. He couldn’t see the scaffolding and the ceiling beams with his human eyes, but he looked to where he knew they were, where he’d seen them before and now he could see only grey darkness. And even his human nose could smell the lust, the heavy musky scent of release; the scent must have been overpowering for Angel.

Xander looked around one more time, comparing this empty shell of a building where he had claimed and lost Spike to the deep cavern where he had laid his Nusa’s ashes: the same grey darkness, the same echoing sounds, the same feeling of loss and emptiness. Turning his back, he followed Angel out of the building.

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