Xanpet 11 a

I stood in front of the hearth. My naked body was warmed by the glowing red embers, which were all that remained of the fire set there hours earlier. I studied the ashes, white with heat, calculating how much time I had before the minions returned to rebuild the fire. How much time did I have before Spike showed up? The soft thud of a crumbling log startled me; I nodded to myself, deciding that I had time.

I walked over to the bedside table. The low scraping of the drawer as I slid it open sounded loud to me in the silence of my room. Set neatly within was Spike´s gift to me. Reverently, I withdrew the journal and pens from their resting–place and walked over to the table. I sat down, smiling as I drifted my fingers over the design that graced the journal´s leather cover. A once creamy silk ribbon, now stained with the ink from my writing, marked where I had left off last time. I glanced at the fire once again and knew that I didn´t have much time; Spike would be here soon. I sighed, deciding that I would stop and put my stuff away when the minions came to stoke the fire. I opened my journal, pausing momentarily to gather my thoughts before I began to write. Soon, the faint scratch of my pen stroking across paper broke the silence in the room.

Spike lay with me last night, he´s done this before but last night was different. I was different. He spooned up behind me, and his cock hard and heavy against my bare bottom was an echo of my own erection. I may be the Zeppo, but I´m not that stupid. I know why he does this. Spike wants me accustomed to the feel of him, his cock leaking against my back, lean legs curled over mine, cool hands firmly stroking my chest and belly and arms, occasionally brushing against my dick. I know he´s disappointed in me, because every time he crawls into bed with me I tense up. I wish I could be comfortable when he´s there but I know where this is headed, what he´s going to take from me. I can´t help the tension that invades my body whenever he presses against me like this. If he stays for long, my muscles ache by the time he leaves from holding myself so rigidly and I feel drained from the mental exhaustion of wondering when he´ll make me do something more.

How much it´ll hurt. How much I´ll hate it. How often he´ll make me do it anyhow. But now I´m scared. No, worse, I´m terrified, because last night I relaxed. I lay in Spike´s arms, held flush against his naked frame and felt comfortable. Safe. I froze only when I realized this and then he shushed me. His breath drifted against the shell of my ear as he told me that I was all right. I was doing so well and that he was proud of me. That I shouldn´t worry; I should rest easy because he held me, because I was safe. I tried to maintain a false tension in my body; I didn´t want to give in to him. I tried and failed; each time my muscles loosened under his gentle caresses. At some point, I drifted to sleep as he held me. I don´t know what this means, what this says about me. I remember some of what Spike did as William the Bloody and the fact that I´m at his mercy terrifies me. But I´m used to being afraid of Spike; I´m not used to being afraid of me, too. I don´t–

I dropped my pen at the sound of the door opening. Quickly, I closed my journal then slid from my seat on the chair to kneel on the stone tiles. I wouldn´t have recognized myself, if I´d seen the lithe movement of my body. I was clumsy and inept. I never thought I could be made to be graceful. Then again, there were times over the past weeks that I thought I couldn´t be made to stay hard for Spike. I had learned though, because my body knew without looking that Spike had entered the room and not some nameless minion. Blood rushed to fill my soft cock; hardened, it rose stiffly toward my belly. I watched as a bead of pre–cum oozed out to settle at the tip of my erection and I waited.

"Evening, Pet," Spike said.

I lifted my head; Spike leaned against the wooden door, a small smirk playing about his lips. I cleared my throat before responding.

"Uh, hey, Spike," I said. I looked at him, then looked away but as happened so often my eyes were drawn back to his. I swallowed nervously, my muscles tensing as he stared at me in silence. I relaxed slightly when he returned my smile and walked over to where I knelt. He ran one hand through my hair and I turned, following his movement. The fingers of his other hand brushed against my journal, caressing the leather. My heart leapt in my chest at his gesture. As far as I knew, Spike had never read what I wrote, I hoped he never did.

"Were you writing, Pet?" Spike asked.

"Y–yes," I stammered out my reply; the answer had been obvious. My muscles coiled when Spike´s hand left my hair and reached for the ties of the book. Before I could even think, I sprung up from my kneeling position and grabbed my journal. The pens scattered to the floor. I quickly knelt before Spike again, clutching the leather book in my hands, holding it behind my back. I was already calling myself all sorts of idiot. It wouldn´t take a genius to figure out that I didn´t want Spike to read my journal after that little demonstration.

"Look at me," Spike ordered. Shit. Shit. Shit. Was I always that stupid? I looked up at Spike. "Hand me the book, Pet," Spike said.

Fuck. I clenched my jaw, desperately trying to pretend that Spike wasn´t standing stoically in front of me, waiting. His demand immobilized me. I didn´t know what to do. All I knew at that moment was that I didn´t want Spike to read my journal. As I hesitated, I noticed that Spike didn´t even have his hand out, as if he didn´t need to emphasize his order with an overt display. I didn´t hand over the book.

"Please, Spike, I–"

"Pet, I´d rather you didn´t start the evening out by pissing me off. Now hand me the book," Spike said coldly.

I was unable to control the shake in my hands as I pulled the journal in front of me. I touched the cover longingly, knowing that once Spike read it, I wouldn´t write in it again. I didn´t look up as I stretched my hand out, offering the book to Spike. I jerked back when cool fingers brushed against mine. Spike stood in front of me for a moment, but I couldn´t look at him. I couldn´t watch as he violated me by reading my journal. I shuddered once before I could control it. I felt his eyes on me afterward. Spike hmm–ed then walked past me, carrying my journal with him. I heard the mattress shift as he sat down on the bed behind me. Other than that first soft sound, I didn´t hear Spike moving, nor did I hear the soft rasp of pages turning. I didn´t know whether to feel relieved or frightened. Long minutes passed, minutes that felt like hours, before I heard his smooth voice again.

"Come here, Pet and bring your pens."

I reached forward, picking up my pens from the floor before I turned around to see Spike sitting at the foot of the bed, my journal beside him. I walked over to where he sat, quickly dropping to the floor in front of him. I set the pens down; my eyes were locked on my journal. I´m pretty sure I whimpered when his slender fingers undid the leather tie.

"So, Pet, tell me; do you care if I read your journal?"

I shrugged. A pathetic gesture, considering I had torn the book from Spike´s hands to keep it from him. I wasn´t afraid of what I´d written. Okay, maybe I was afraid, at least a little, more than a little. My first entries in the journal were guarded. I had censored my thoughts then, as I wrote them down. When I´d noticed Spike´s indifference toward my writing, I´d become more forward. I no longer censored myself, freely recording my thoughts on paper. I often penned into the journal what I dared not say out loud. I knew that some of the comments I had made about Spike and his Sire would anger the vampire. Mostly, it would just embarrass me.

"Answer me," Spike ordered. I sighed and finally dragged my gaze away from the book to look at him.

"I´d rather that you didn´t," I said softly. I sounded so upset, even to myself.

"I´m not sure Pet." Spike gently ran a hand over my hair and down the side of my face, petting against the thick fur of my beard. "It makes you pensive," Spike waved his hand in the air, "melancholy."

Okay. And what´s with Spike stealing vocab from the G–man. Where to go with this?

"Uh, and that´s a bad thing?"

"Don´t like seeing you sad," Spike replied, still touching my hair and face. He dragged his thumb across my lips and I parted them against the caress. I missed the gentle strokes when he pulled his hands away from me. "I find it... distracting." Spike rapped the book against his knee. "Maybe this will tell me why."

"Oh." I still had nowhere to go with that argument. Yeah, I got sad and pissed and depressed. Basically, everything I´d known had been taken from me. Even Spike. The vampire that claimed me as his Pet here reminded me less and less of the Spike I had known in Sunnydale. I found myself savoring the rare glimpses of the Spike I remembered when they occurred.

"Why?"

"Why what?" I frowned up at him. Spike rolled his eyes at me and I almost smiled at the gesture.

"Why would you rather I didn´t read this?"

Oh god. I looked at the book Spike held and twisted my hands together. Somehow, I knew that Spike would decide whether or not to read what I´d written based on my answer. I swallowed heavily as I looked at him. I didn´t know what to say. It was mine, not his. He couldn´t have it. I didn´t think that answer would go over too well.

"Pet?" Spike arched an eyebrow at me as he held the book up.

"Because it´s mine." The answer burst forth without conscious thought. I felt like I was back in kindergarten, refusing to share during playtime. I flushed under his scrutiny.

"That it. That your final answer, mate?"

I couldn´t help the snort that bubbled forth at that. God, I missed TV. I sighed and sat back then kneeled back up.

"Uh, can I sit?" I asked and gestured toward the bed. Spike cocked his head at me; I knew that he preferred me at his feet. I watched as he scooted back on the bed, leaning against the head of the bed, my journal rested on his thighs.

"No Pet," he said. "But you can crawl up now, if you like."

I took what he offered. Lifting myself off of the ground and crawling up the length of the bed.

"Can I?" I gestured toward the book. Spike lifted it up and handed it to me. I lay down, resting my head in Spike´s lap, holding the book to my chest. I hoped to god I could explain what I felt, and that Spike felt generous enough to indulge me. Spike´s hands canvassed my body as soon as I settled against him. I tried to think about what I wanted to say. One of his hands combed through my hair while the other wandered over my belly, teasing around my navel.

"Well, Pet?" Spike asked.

"It´s not just that it´s mine, it´s becausssss–." My breath hissed out as Spike´s hand squeezed my erection before lightly stroking my hard flesh. A small choking whimper sounded at the back of my throat and I tried so hard not to thrust up into Spike´s grip. Spike disapproved of my attempts to deny the pleasure of his touch, which I always did. My jaw clenched and my hands crushed the journal to my chest until Spike lifted it away from me with his other hand. My hands fell to fist at my sides as Spike tormented me with light touches against my cock, refusing to caress me more firmly.

"You were saying, Pet?" Spike asked with a small chuckle.

I opened eyes that I hadn´t realized I closed and stared dazedly at Spike. There was no way I could form a coherent thought while he was doing that.

"Spike," I gasped. "Need to...stop...please," I begged. Spike smiled down into my face; I grimaced with the effort of keeping my hips firmly planted on the bed.

"You know what I want Pet. Give me what I want first or you don´t get to explain yourself," Spike said. The thick sound of his voice drifted down from above me.

"Please," I asked again closing my eyes. I wasn´t above begging him for these things anymore.

"You can do it, Pet. Give your Master what he wants, I want to see you. Watch you take your pleasure from me, after that we can talk," Spike´s voice gently coaxed me.

A sharp cry broke forth from my chest, and I turned my head away refusing to look at Spike. His hand stopped moving at the first arch of my hips from the bed. I thrust myself into his fist, jacking off of the bed again and again, driving my hard cock into the tight channel his fingers created.

"So perfect, Pet," Spike crooned at me, "so hard and hot for me. Love watching you like this. So bloody gorgeous."

I thrust up once more and felt my balls draw up close to my body. I wasn´t surprised when Spike´s hand left my erection to roughly pull down on my testicles, preventing my orgasm. My hips fell back to the bed and I whimpered. Spike seemed to take perverse pleasure in making me wait, drawing me back from orgasm time and again. Sometimes, he didn´t let me come at all and I would jerk off frantically after he left. I wondered if he´d let me come quickly if I gave him what he wanted, right from the start. Which reminded me of what I´d written in my journal about why I refused to do just that. I panted heavily as I lay in his lap. Spike gave me several minutes to recover from what he´d just done, what I´d just done. "Need more time, Pet?" he asked.

I nodded with my eyes still tightly closed. I felt the fast pumping of my heart and the steady dribbles of warm precum running down my shaft as my cock pulsed from my near orgasm. God this hurt. Once my heart rate steadied, Spike turned my head towards him. My eyes were closed but I could feel his erection through his breeches, pressing into the side of my face, close to my lips. I shivered, wondering how long before Spike made me do something with more than just my hands.

"Explain to me now, Pet," Spike said simply.

"Because it´s mine," I whispered softly. "And I´m not saying that to be petty or anything." I drew in a shuddering breath. "It´s just that I have...nothing here," I paused, trying to control the shaking in my voice before I continued. "You gave it to me, I know, but you said it was mine. And I just...it´s the only thing here, Spike, the only one, that´s just...mine."

Spike´s fingers drew abstract designs against my chest, circling the aureoles of my nipples. One nail scratched over the peaked flesh; my cock twitched and pulsed. More precum oozed out, coating my length. Fuck. I felt like I had been hard for days.

"Would you still write in it?" Spike asked. "If I read it."

I shivered at the thought of Spike reading some of my most personal thoughts. I was so stupid. I never should´ve written in that damn journal. I opened my eyes to stare into Spike´s; he was waiting for his answer.

"Yeah, probably," I said, not confessing that I´d never write as openly as I had been and would take great pleasure in filling the pages with ´why I think my Master is a prick´ just to piss him off. Spike sighed above me.

"No you wouldn´t, not like you were," Spike said. My eyes widened in surprise. Maybe Spike knew me better than I thought. "Go on, Pet, put your journal away, along with the pens."

I sat up, grabbing the book again. I crawled down toward the end of the bed but lifted my head before I moved to get the pens. I looked at Spike, who was watching me thoughtfully.

"You won´t–," I began apprehensively.

"No Pet, I won´t read your journal. Not ever," Spike smiled at me. "This is now the one thing you´d have to give me permission to do."

I smiled back and knew that I would later write about the brief sense of empowerment those words had given me, even though I was the one naked and kneeling and always would be. I frowned though and stood up to look at Spike after I picked up my pens.

"Sp–"

"Trust me Pet," Spike interrupted me before I´d even begun. "You have your Master´s word on this." Embarrassed and relieved, I nodded at him. I walked over and tucked my journal and pens into the nightstand before turning to look at Spike again.

"So," I said, standing nervously in front of the night table with one arm wrapped across my waist. I looked at Spike expectantly. Maybe being here had already begun to twist my mind, but I preferred Spike to tell me what he wanted, right away. Whether it was to sit or stand or strip him down using only my mouth. I liked knowing what he planned as soon as he entered the room. My own imagination was the best form of torture and Spike knew this. I hated those evenings when he´d just play with my mind, hinting at things, waiting as long as possible to tell me what it was that we would actually do. Even if it was something as innocuous as reading. Right now, he stared at me; my eyes darted about the room as his piercing gaze simply took in my appearance: the rise and fall of my chest, the bob and twitch of my erection, the flushed hue that so often colored my skin when Spike was nearby.

"So, Pet," Spike smirked back at me. I cleared my throat nervously and shifted side to side with the most subtle of movements. The silence stretched on endlessly; Spike watched me. Just when I was about to snap and ask him what he wanted me to do, he moved. Spike´s limbs unfurled from the bed with the feline grace to which I´d become accustomed.

"Come here, Pet," Spike said. I moved without thought, settling on my knees at his feet. I looked up inquisitively when Spike didn´t say anything further. A single finger traced down the line of my jaw, my eyes fell shut as he touched me.

"Tonight Pet," Spike smiled as he spoke, "I´m thinking we should do something that we haven´t done yet. Something to shake off the monotony. Can you think of something?" Spike asked as he drew his finger over the seam of my lips. "Something we might like to do?"

The comfort I´d felt fled at his words and my eyes shot to his crotch. I knew that he could smell my fear. I caught my breath, holding it in my chest, before frantically panting through my nose. I wasn´t about to open my mouth to answer him or to breathe easier. I shook my head, breaking the contact between his finger and my lips.

"No ideas, Pet," Spike said, wrapping his hands around my head, delving into my hair. I tensed turning my face to the side as Spike brought my head forward. "Nuh uh, Pet," he said forcing my face forward again. Spike tilted my head up slightly; my chin dug into his erection. He moaned softly, very lightly thrusting against me before looking down at me.

"Still no suggestions, Pet?"

I quickly shook my head then realized what that did for Spike; a faint sound issued from his throat at my movement. My eyes shut to block out the sight of unadulterated want that flared in Spike´s gaze. No, I shivered, I couldn´t think of anything to do. Except run away from Spike, screaming that there was no way I would suck his cock. I doubted I´d get more than three steps away from him before he dragged me back. My imagination supplied enough horrific visuals of what would follow to keep me firmly planted at Spike´s feet. Spike stepped back, no longer pressing against me.

"Gonna have to work on your imagination, Pet," Spike paused, his hands circled my neck while his thumbs slowly caressed over the pulse that beat on either side of my throat, "creativity, will be rewarded."

My eyes shot open at that. He was smiling at me, his head angled to one side. I watched as Spike bit his lip then leaned in, dragging his smooth jaw and cheek against the rough beard that covered mine.

"Ya know Pet, you don´t have to be so stubborn," Spike whispered near my ear. "Could play nice once in a while, you might enjoy it more." I squeaked quietly when Spike softly nipped at my earlobe before standing up. "Over to the chair Pet, set it up so you´re sitting facing away from the table. Time for something new and different, eh?"

I did what Spike asked, settling into the chair. I watched as he went to the door, growling out orders to the minions. I wondered what he planned, if he needed to order the minions about for it. That thought had me glancing at the fire; it had burnt out since Spike had arrived. The minions hadn´t built it up yet. I looked up when Spike walked back over to where I was, pulling a chair out so that he sat near me.

"I think you´re going to like this, Pet," he said, one hand palming my chest. "At least the end result, I know I will."

I frowned at that. At the same moment I heard the door open, but Spike was blocking my view. I moved to peer around him, wanting to see what the minions were hauling into the room.

"Uh uh, Pet," Spike turned my head back to look at him before I even caught a glimpse. There was silence; Spike´s minions seemed to be waiting. "Want it to be a surprise." He stood. "And like anyone waiting for a surprise you need to close your eyes."

"Spike, what are you going to do?" I asked nervously.

"Surprise, Pet," Spike smiled, tapping my nose. Oh my god, Spike treating me like a little kid, now that was scary. "C´mon, close your eyes. I want to get started."

"You should know that I´m not comfortable with this. I don´t trust you," I said, even as I closed my eyes. It was hard to keep my eyes closed as I listened to the clatter of the minions and could feel Spike shuffling around me, his body occasionally brushing against my thighs, or shoulders. I heard Spike dismiss the minions; even though he spoke French, the order was one I recognized now.

"Tip your head back," Spike said, as a cool hand lifted my chin, guiding my head to where he wanted me. I couldn´t help myself; my eyes flew open when Spike placed a hot, wet towel over my face. He couldn´t see me though and I quickly relaxed under the wet heat, closing my eyes again. I was disappointed when Spike pulled the towel off a few minutes later. I heard his low chuckle.

"Don´t pout, Pet," Spike said, rubbing a thumb over my protruding lower lip. "It won´t work on me, not now."

"Oh, but it will, one day," I said, smiling against his thumb. I grinned even more when he didn´t draw it away as I spoke. It was as if he were lip reading by touch. "Willow thinks I´ve perfected my pouting technique, it´s doubtful that anyone, dead or alive will be able to resist. She says it´s all in the eyes."

"I believe her Pet, but your eyes are closed now so I think I´m fairly safe."

My lower lip jutted even further out and Spike laughed. Why hadn´t I remembered that my eyes were closed? My eyes shot open when Spike straddled my legs, settling down in my lap. His body leaned into my hard cock, aggravating my arousal.

"Didn´t say you could open your eyes, Pet."

"I know, but uh, Spike you´re sitting in my lap."

"Yup."

Oh. I suppose that explained everything. Since he hadn´t yelled at me to close my eyes again I looked around. The minions had set a small table up near us. Two basins of hot water, towels, and what I recognized as a straight edge razor and shaving cream were set out.

"You´re gonna shave me?" I asked.

"Yup."

Spike picked up a small, round brush coated in shaving cream. Intently, he worked the bristles through my facial hair and over my neck, generating a thick lather. My heart fluttered and I tensed for an instant when he picked up the blade.

"Pet, if I wanted you dead, I would´ve killed you already."

"Can´t help it. Instinct," I replied with a shrug.

"Well, Pet," Spike said. "You might want to remember your instinct of self preservation when I tell you to do something. I enjoy rebelliousness sometimes but not always."

I didn´t respond to that, simply because Spike had brought the blade up to my cheek and with one smooth stroke, he shaved away a swath of hair. Without looking, he swished the blade through the basin of water, washing away the cream and hair before returning to unveil another patch of smooth flesh. Strong, slender fingers tilted my head this way and that as he ran the blade over my jaw, sure upward strokes over my neck. Spike didn´t speak to me while he worked. Occasionally, his lips parted and I could see his tongue resting against his top teeth. He seemed very focused and careful; he didn´t want to cut me.

"Looks good Pet," Spike proclaimed. "Not a single nick." He sat back on my thighs, critically evaluating his work. As soon as he was done I raised my hand up; ready to run it over my newly shorn face but Spike grabbed my wrist.

"Hey!" I yelled.

"Uh uh, Pet," Spike said.

The vampire forced my hand down then reached over and picked up a towel that had been soaking in the second basin of water. I watched as he tightly wrung it out then gently wiped away the remnants of shaving cream from my skin. My eyes widened slightly as Spike leaned down, resting his smooth cheek against my own. Slowly, so slowly he drew his face against my smooth skin, his jaw followed the line of my own. My breath gusted out after his first pass. He didn´t breathe as he traced his face against mine, back and forth, again and again. Spike had started this strange caress but I found myself returning it. I stroked my cheeks along his jaw line; his skin was so smooth and cool against mine. My eyes felt heavy and when he finally pulled away, I realized that my hands were buried in his hair, holding him hostage to my attentions. A pale pink flush colored his cheeks and his eyes glittered in the light. I wondered what I looked like to him.

"You haven´t realized yet, have you?" Spike said softly, staring into my eyes.

"Realized what?" I flushed at the husky sound of arousal in my voice; quietly, I tried to clear my throat. A soft sigh broke from my throat as Spike lay a cool finger against the pulse beating in my neck. His fingertip dipped down to run along the curve of my collarbone before traveling lower. I watched Spike as he watched himself touch me. His finger swirled briefly in the light path of hair that led to my cock. My erection jerked toward his hand; he smiled. Then I felt him trace the length of my hard cock before cupping my balls in his palm. I started to moan then clenched my teeth, holding back the rest of that sound.

Next Chapter