The Tiger – Orientation
Xander grit his teeth angrily as he realized that his last thought slipped out. The fucking truth spell seemed to still be in effect. He´d only just managed to lower his voice to try to prevent Spike from hearing. Thankfully, the door was closing behind him at the time, so hopefully it masked what he´d said from the vampire.
Xander entered the single door at the end of the hall. It opened into an office, with one of the Déjá vu demons sitting at the desk; this one was wearing a red dress. She abruptly introduced herself as Narella, and ordered him to sit in the chair across from her, snapping the commands, "Back straight, knees together," at him.
Xander´s anger at Spike swiftly morphed to deep unease. He had a very bad feeling he was not going to fit in here.
Xander carefully sat as she´d indicated and, for now, tried to put what had happened with Spike out of his mind. If this demon was going to be his overseer or whatever, he needed to pay attention and figure out...actually, he had no clue what he had to figure out. Xander decided to stick with ´pay attention.´
Narella pursed her lips, not at him, but at whatever she was reading on her screen. She finally looked directly at him. "It seems your sponsor has instructed that we not completely break your fighting spirit. We generally do not honor that request. However, his position on the council obligates us to fulfill his wishes." Her gaze hardened, "If you cause problems in my house, you will regret it. The slaves here operate well because they are happy to serve. I wish to keep them that way. We will not hesitate to use drugs or spells to keep you in line."
"Oookay. Can we back up here?" Xander blurted out, "I´m not going to upset your happy little home. I don´t want to be here any more than you want me. Can´t you just teach me to be what Spike wants?" Apparently, the truth part of spell still hadn´t completely worn off. He was terrified now that it never would.
However, instead of being offended, Narella seemed to soften at this. "Master Spike hasn´t told you of your obligations then?" She sighed, "I apologize, Xander. I expected from the directive we´ve been issued that you and your sponsor had a prior involvement. That is not the case, is it?"
"No." Xander shook his head.
Narella leaned back in her chair as her demeanor changed to one that was a little less formal. "There is more to your training that becoming what Master Spike wants. Once you graduate, you will begin servicing some of our other customers; it is how training is paid for. You will, of course, be available to Master Spike whenever he wishes."
Xander felt his stomach clench up at this. He was going to be a whore. Not just for Spike, but for other demons.
Narella covered some other stuff about claiming, but Xander didn´t pay strict attention. Every time he tried to focus on the specifics, the word whore would bubble up to surface of his mind again, bringing with it a wave of nausea. Xander figured he got the basics anyway. Spike could issue some kind of challenge which Xander could accept or reject. Xander´s collar would somehow be turned on if Spike did offer a challenge; the stone set into his collar would slowly change from white to red. Xander had to accept or reject the challenge by the time stone changed completely, or he became property of the pleasure house and no longer belonged to Spike.
After their talk, Narella gave him a brief tour of the training area and showed him to his room. Well, saying it was a room was pushing it: it was a closet. Furnishing the space with a bunk and a small table with a lamp did not make it a room. The bunk ran along the wall and Xander only had two feet between himself and the door. At least the ceiling was quite high, spanning fourteen feet. If not, he´d have felt like he was sleeping in a coffin.
Narella instructed Xander to sit on his bunk and wait for his handler before she left him, so there Xander sat. His thumb absently stroked Spike´s tattoo while he waited. The mark felt weird because it didn´t feel weird. The inked skin was just as smooth as the unmarked parts. He still felt branded. Although, not really branded – because shit – he´d seen some of the slaves here: they had been branded. He´d take his tiny tattoo over that any day.
His door whooshed open, and yet another carbon copy demon was there. This one was wearing a tight fitting black uniform-type dress.
"God, do they breed you like that?" Xander asked, unable to hold his tongue. It wasn´t the spell this time, but exhaustion and frustration.
The demon grinned, showing off her pointed teeth. "You are very astute, Xander, my race only reproduces via incubation. Very minor modifications are required for different functions; to the external observer we appear absolutely identical. We use drones during check-in, they are identified by their uniforms of green and blue."
Xander nodded. Déjá and Vu.
"Drones are unnamed and handle administrative functions. While they are not terribly personable, they are quite efficient. I am designated as a handler and am called Adara. I am responsible for your overall education and your physical well being while you are in training. Narella, whom I believe you´ve also met, was bred for managerial and disciplinary functions.
"Do you have any further questions?"
Xander shook his head and said tersely, "No. Let´s get started with the training."
She smiled sympathetically but shook her head. "Oh, no, training will not start for you until tomorrow. Your day has likely been somewhat traumatic. The human psyche is quite fragile and evaluations are taxing. You are scheduled only for a relaxing bath and massage before you return here for a light meal and a sleeping potion."
Adara lead Xander to a bathing chamber. The room was almost empty except for a large tub, some shelves and a comfortable looking chair. Xander had expected to see human bath attendants or the drones she mentioned, but instead, Adara drew the bath water herself. She poured a thick stream of greenish liquid into the water where it foamed and frothed under the spray. Xander stood warily to one side, unsure of what she wanted him to do.
Finally she said, kindly, "You may enter the bath, Xander."
He stepped into the pool of soapy water and stood facing her.
"You´re not used to bathing yourself, are you?" she asked gently.
Xander´s face got hot with embarrassment. Water, like everything else of value with the Phelon, was doled out sparingly. At bathing times slaves were not allowed to clean themselves for fear of wasting too much.
Adara shook her head, and reassured him. "There is no need to be embarrassed, it is very common. One of the things you must learn here is how to groom yourself. You are going to be given levels of freedom that you have previously been denied. This will likely cause you a bit of discomfort in the beginning, but you will learn to enjoy your privileges. Please, sit."
Xander sat down in the tub. Adara placed a platform across the center of the tub which held sponges, soaps and cloths.
"The bath is something you should enjoy as well as use for grooming. Once you clean yourself, you should relax. The foam contains herbs that will help you with that. I will return within the hour. If you wish to exit the tub, there are towels over there," she pointed to a shelving unit on one wall. "You may wait for my return in the chair provided."
Xander swiveled his head toward the rack of towels as she pointed, and when he turned back to look at her, she was almost at the door. "You´re leaving me here?" he asked stupidly. His thoughts felt a little slow, maybe something she put in the bath.
"Yes," she nodded. "You need time alone to collect yourself. Training will be somewhat demanding on you at first. I urge you to take advantage of this time offered you."
"I don´t understand why you care. I´m just a whore." Xander couldn´t manage to keep the bitterness out of his voice.
She looked surprised at this. "Xander, you´re not a whore, you are a pleasure slave with a sponsor. It is an honor that many slaves wish would be bestowed upon them. You are a revered pet, one to be treasured and pampered."
"But still a pet."
"True," she agreed, "but everything has a price.
"Do try to relax, Xander. You´ve had a difficult day." And with that, she left.
Xander was alone – he seriously doubted that he was unwatched – but he felt like he was alone. He didn´t have the impression that Adara was outside the door waiting on him to finish or that she locked the door. Xander was uncomfortable with this level of freedom and angry that he was uncomfortable.
He picked up one of the sponges and began to scrub himself, washing off the shiny glitter that Spike had ordered him to wear; it came off easily and dissolved in the water. Xander made sure to remove the makeup and wash his hair. He wanted all traces of what Spike had ordered gone. He childishly scrubbed at his wrist in the hopes that the tattoo might come off, but it stubbornly stayed on.
Xander sat the sponge down, acknowledging that he was marked for life. He looked owlishly around, half expecting Adara or someone else to come collect him. For awhile, he sat rigidly against the smooth wall of the tub, unsure of what to do. Finally, he relaxed into the water, sliding under until only his neck and head were above the water and foam. He shifted around until he was comfortable.
Between the heat of the water and the soothing scent of the foam, Xander found himself drifting into a strange, half-awake state. He wondered if this was how Tara felt when she meditated. As his thoughts drifted to his sister, he hoped she was okay. Spike said he´d get her trained as a healer. She´d like that. Xander already missed her, but as much as he loved her, he wasn´t sure if he wanted her to see him in his new vocation.
His mind drifted further, chasing random thoughts through his head. It seemed like hours later when the door opened and Adara came in.
Xander slowly opened his eyes. "Oh, you´re back."
"Yes, I am. I´m pleased to see that the bath seems to have done you some good. You will be afforded the privilege quite frequently, assuming you learn your lessons well."
Adara helped him out of the tub and handed him a thick towel. He awkwardly dried himself with the cloth; his head seemed a little muddled.
She held out her hand for the towel when he was done and put it in a bin.
After the bath, there had been a long and incredibly relaxing massage before Adara led him back to his closet.
A tray with some food was already on his table with a glass of some of stinky frothy stuff. He assumed that it was the sleeping potion Adara had mentioned earlier.
"Please ensure you eat. Early tomorrow, I will retrieve you and issue your first morning challenge. Most new trainees do fail, at least the first few times."
"What kind of challenge?"
"I cannot be specific about the task, however, each morning I collect you, you will be issued a challenge. You must complete it within the timeframe allotted. If you do not succeed, you will not be allowed your morning meal. We find that it accelerates training significantly."
"Starving people would do that," Xander agreed.
"You won´t be starved, Xander," Adara said kindly, "You will be allowed two additional feeding intervals during the day.
"We are expected to deliver our training in a fairly short amount of time. The means may seem quite barbaric to you, but they are much more effective than physical discipline."
"I don´t even know what to say to that."
"Xander, we start small here. You will be required to master both oral and traditional sex acts with partners of both genders before being asked to move on to any more advanced tasks. Training is work, but can be pleasurable as well. In time, you will see that."
"Will I? ´Cause right now, I´m thinking that´s not going to happen."
"You will, I assure you. Now please, eat and get some rest. The morning will arrive soon enough and I wish for you to be well rested."
Left alone, Xander swiftly ate his meal. It was the first thing he´d been offered all day. He didn´t even bother to smell the potion, just swallowed it down in one gulp. The effects washed over him even before he put the glass down. He pulled up the warm blanket provided and sank down into the surprisingly comfortable bed, falling instantly into a blissfully dreamless sleep.
Spike changed clothes after his encounter with Xander and was heading to his office. His mind kept wandering back to the boy´s last comment about their kiss. It was obvious that Xander had still been under the truth spell. Question was: what should he do with that information?
Xander´s embarrassment and humiliation at being made to enjoy Spike´s attentions was heady stuff, but then, so was the passion he´d shown with that kiss. Angelus was always going on about how you couldn´t trust a human to nick a vein for you even if you were starving, but it seemed that Spike had badly underestimated his pet.
And speaking of Angelus, here was the big lug now. Peachy.
"Hey, Spikey! I hear you´ve finally gotten yourself some pets. Boy and a girl trained by the Phelon. You don´t start small, do you?"
"Where´d you hear that?" Spike knew perfectly well Gen went spouting her mouth off to Angelus at the drop of a hat, but he played along. Angelus knew Spike knew as well. Fucking useless game, but the tosser got off on it.
Angelus waved a hand vaguely. "You know how it is around here, people talk."
"Uh-huh. There a point to this conversation, or are you just killing time?"
Angelus smirked. "I hear your boy´s been all checked into the pleasure house. Can´t wait until he graduates so I can have a piece of him."
Spike knew that this was a distinct possibility, but had hoped that whatever toy he´d brought from Arvis would keep Angelus busy. He clenched his jaw angrily and growled, "Boy´s mine, Angelus, hands off."
Angelus´ smirk grew wider. "Spikey, you know that´s not how things work. Your boy has to earn his keep. Besides, I share all my pets."
"You couldn´t afford to feed your pets if you didn´t have them working."
Angelus shrugged. "I get bored. I need variety. What can I say? Speaking of variety, I did happen to see the girl, though. She´s a sweet piece: nice and ripe. I´m surprised you didn´t send her for training too. Tell you what? Why don´t you send her my way when you get tired of her?"
"Fat chance," Spike replied. And then drawled in the most bored voice he could muster, "So, we done?"
"Sure."
Spike stalked down the hall, intent on getting to his office and away from here, but before he could get more than a few steps away Angelus called after him, "Don´t say I didn´t offer."
Prick.
When he got to the office, Tara was sitting on the pet chair he´d ordered for her, leash attached to the restraining bolt in the wall. Gen was nowhere to be found.
Spike´s irritation jumped up a notch. "Happen to know where Gen fucked off to?"
Tara shook her head. The girl´s eyes were downcast and her hands were in her lap.
"Figures." Spike strode over to his desk, intending to call Gen and tell her to get her mechanical ass up here. As he passed Tara, he stopped suddenly and frowned. He turned to face her and said coldly, "Angelus was here."
The girl flinched, but didn´t say anything. She really didn´t need to respond, the bastard´s bloody scent was all over the office. Tara did, however, need to learn to answer him.
Spike crouched down to her level and gently lifted her chin. Her startled eyes found his. "That´s better. Look at me when I talk to you. So, Angelus: tall, dark hair, too much forehead. Was he in here?"
"Y-yes." Fear began wafting from her now.
Spike cursed softly, stood up and leaned against his desk facing the terrified girl. Now, on top of his angry confusion over the boy, he had this to repair. How the bloody fuck was he supposed to win this girl over if Angelus had her cringing every time Spike came near her.
"Did he hurt you?" Spike tried to keep his voice calm.
"No, not really." She shook her head.
Getting information was like pulling teeth with this one, too. Next Phelon he met was dead on principle. "But he touched you?"
"H-he said he wanted to inspect your purchase...to make sure you g-got a good d-deal." From Tara´s fearful reaction, it must have been a thorough inspection.
Spike cursed again. "And Gen let him?"
Tara shrugged warily.
Spike´s eyes narrowed. He´d cut the girl some slack, but not that much. "No keeping things from me, pet. Did Gen know?"
"She called him," Tara reluctantly replied.
Spike nodded, he´d thought as much. He and Gen were going to be having a chat very soon about her loyalties. "Sorry, poppet, it wasn´t my intent for you to get manhandled."
Spike walked to the bar and poured her a bit of a drink. He poured a much larger one for himself. "Knock this back quick: it´ll sting, but you´ll feel better," he said, handing her the glass.
Tara took the glass and drank it in down in one gulp. She didn´t cough, but her eyes watered.
"Better?" He took a swift snort himself, relishing the burn as it went down.
Tara nodded and handed the glass back.
"Good. How ´bout we start from scratch. You´re Tara, right?"
"Y-yes, Master."
"We can do the formal thing in public, yeah? Here, I´m Spike. Clothes fit okay?"
She looked down at her outfit, and said gratefully, "Yes, S-spike. Thank you."
He hadn´t gotten her anything special, just standard house gear for female slaves, but it clung to her and managed to offer support for her ample chest even with the plunging neckline. She made a pretty picture with all that cleavage, but he was trying to make her feel comfortable so he didn´t ogle her nearly as much as he´d have liked to.
"Listen, pet, I´m not like your old owners. You treat me well, I´ll treat you well. Got it?"
She nodded. "I understand."
His voice hardened, "Cross me, though, and you´ll wish you hadn´t."
Proper bit of fear wafted from her at that. Good girl.
He softened his tone once again. "Here´s the deal, Tara, I want you to keep watch for me, let me know what´s what around here. I can´t bloody trust anyone. You do that for me, and I´ll make sure you can see your brother regular."
At the mention of the boy, Tara perked up and asked softly, "Is Xander ok?"
"Boy´s fine. He´s in the council´s pleasure house now, for training." Spike watched as she processed this information.
Finally, she asked softly, "Will you be careful with him?"
Spike frowned. That was the last thing he expected her to ask. "Depends on him, doesn´t it?"
Tara shook her head, "Xander is...not like me. He´s not...b-broken. If you´re not careful, you´ll damage him."
"You telling me what to do?" Spike was amused that she found the courage to speak to him like this.
"No, Master!" She shook her head frantically. "I just don´t want to see him hurt."
"Then help me," Spike coaxed. "I´m sending you to be trained as a healer. You´ll have duties at the pleasure house, and I´ll see you´re cleared to speak with him. In return, you have to keep me up to speed on how he´s doing as well as pass any other information I can use."
"A-and if I don´t?"
Spike raised his eyebrows at her. "Do you really want me to answer that?"
Tara was quiet for a long time. Finally she asked, "Do you care for him?"
Bit of an odd question, that. "He´s mine, just like you are."
Tara shook her head, not letting it go. "But do you care? At all. Even a tiny bit?"
Gone was the stuttering bit who´d occupied his office moments ago. Timidly assertive, this one. She was definitely going to be interesting to have around. Spike felt oddly like he was being interviewed. "Does it matter?
"To me, yes." Tara looked solemn.
Spike debated on what to tell her. He didn´t have an answer himself. He could lie to her and say ´yes´, but knew if he did that, she´d be nearly useless to him. He needed her loyalty, so he went with the truth. "The boy´s something special. I´ve not run across anyone like him. There´s something wild about him. Don´t know if that´s what you need to hear, but that´s the best I can do."
Tara watched him calculate his answer; saw his desire to lie war with his desire to win her over. And when he spoke of Xander, she heard what he didn´t say: Spike did care, even if he didn´t know it yet. It was the best she could hope for. "All right, I´ll help you."
"Good girl."
