Xanpet 11 b
Do you remember our deal, Pet?" Spike asked, looking up at me even as his hand continued to manipulate my testicles. Stroking the sensitive globes with his fingers.
"Deal?" I asked, confused by his touch.
"Yeah, you fulfilled your part of the bargain yesterday. I must´ve been here near six hours, eh?" Spike smirked at me. "Not once did you fall soft, not even when you fell asleep. Fifth day too. Didn´t think you´d do it."
Oh. Realization dawned on me at his last statement. Five days. I´d been hard around Spike for five consecutive days. It had taken awhile.
"How...how long?" I whispered, not looking at him. Spike swung himself off of my legs, standing up next to me.
"Just under two months." Spike smiled. "Gotta say, Pet, I´m impressed. Thought it would take at least three, what with how you carry on. Gonna get yourself into a bit of trouble with that."
I knew what he was talking about, but just shrugged from my seat.
"Guess I don´t work well with others," I replied. Spike arched an eyebrow at me.
"Seemed to work with the Slayer and her gang well enough," Spike said as he walked away from me. He stopped by the bed, picking up a pile of clothes. Huh, had missed that before. Guess I´d be stripping Spike down at some point during the night. I sighed.
"That´s different," I said softly.
"Different how?" Spike asked conversationally as he walked back over, placing the clothes and shoes on a chair by the table.
"They´re my friends Spike, you´re just–," I cut myself off.
"What Pet?" Spike asked, turning to look at me. I couldn´t hold his gaze. "What am I?"
"No–nothing," I said. "Forget it."
"Nothing Pet? Forget it?" Spike crouched down in front of me; his hands rested on my knees. "I don´t think so. What am I to you, hmmm Pet?" Spike asked.
His hands slid along the length of my inner thighs before trailing up over my bare chest to reach the smooth flesh of my jaw. I shook my head, refusing to answer his question, simply because I didn´t know how. Spike frowned at my silence before picking up the shirt from the chair. He held it out for me and motioned that I should put it on.
"For me?" I asked stunned. I never wore clothes, I wasn´t allowed to. Yet, Spike stood there, holding out the shirt for me, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"We´re going out, Pet," Spike said simply. "I think having you traipse about Paris in the nude might make for some trouble."
"You´re really gonna take me out?" I asked, as I took the shirt from Spike and slipped it on.
"Yeah, Pet," Spike said. "I won´t break my promise to you. We´re gonna go out and have us some human fun."
"Cool." A silly grin spread across my face as I buttoned up the shirt. "Are we gonna see the Eiffel Tower? And, oh oh, I haven´t eaten yet, does that mean we´re gonna eat out? I just–"
"Breathe Pet," Spike smiled at me as he handed me the pants.
"Sorry, it´s just, I´m excited," I said, still vibrating in my seat. My embarrassment was unable to curb my enthusiasm. No wonder Spike treated me like I was a kid; I tended to act like one.
"Don´t be sorry, mate. I´m glad you´re excited and I think that you´ll like what I have planned for us."
"Plan," I said, frowning down at the pants that I still held. They were different from what Spike wore and I couldn´t figure them out. "No offense, Spike, but sometimes your plans don´t turn out too well."
"Give ´em here." I handed the pants over to Spike. He quickly situated the fabric, then knelt at my feet, slipping first one foot then the other into the slacks. "Stand up."
I stood up. Spike slid them up over my hips, the short stretch of buttons that had confused me were at my side. He tucked in my shirt before buttoning up the side of the pants. I winced at the constriction against my erection. I looked down at myself and I didn´t need a mirror to know that I had a problem. Oh my god. First off, I was wearing tweed. Not only that, I was wearing tight tweed pants. My erection strained painfully against the confines of the dark fabric. Oh fuck. The pants looked obscene on me and were uncomfortable to wear. Spike had stepped away from me. Horrified, I looked up at Spike only to stop dead at the lust in his gaze.
"Look good, Pet," Spike said with a leer.
"Good! Good!" I shouted. "Are you insane, Spike? Look at me!" I jutted my hips forward in a vulgar display. "I can´t go out there looking like this. I´ll...I´ll be arrested or something, besides which it fucking hurts!" I frantically pulled my shirt out of my pants, hoping that it would cover me enough to be decent.
"You can and you will, Pet," Spike said. "So tuck your shirt back in and put your shoes on. We leave in ten minutes."
Oh god. So that´s what this was. Tease Xander time. Tell me I could go out, shave me and give me clothes all the while knowing that I really wouldn´t be going anywhere. I sat down heavily in the chair, my excitement dissipated.
"You did this on purpose," I accused. "This way, you´re keeping your word. You know I won´t go out, not looking like this," I gestured emphatically to my lap, bowing my head; tears burned my eyes. "So, you get your way."
Spike walked over to where I sat. I flinched, jerking my hands back when he gripped them in his own.
"Stand up," Spike said. It wasn´t like I had much of a choice. He was pulling me to my feet by my hands. I stood in front of him, wondering what he was going to do. He ran his hands up and down my arms. The run of fabric between my skin and his felt awkward to me. For an instant, I wished I wasn´t wearing the shirt before I could batter that thought back down.
"Look at me."
I shook my head no until Spike´s hands crept up to cradle my head, forcing me to look at him.
"I didn´t set this night up for you to act the bloody martyr," he spoke softly, his hands moving up to hold my face. "We´re gonna get your kit on, then we´re going out. As for this," Spike smiled, dropping one hand to press briefly against my imprisoned arousal before sliding over to grip my hip, "that´s just how you´re supposed to be. So don´t fret about it, eh?"
"Spike, please, I–" I started to beg then switched tactics at the uncompromising look on his face. Spike stepped away from me as I unbuttoned the side of my pants, slowly tucking my shirt back into the waist of the slacks. "It won´t matter anyhow," I said despondently.
"What won´t matter, Pet?" Spike asked, sitting down.
"Seeing Paris," I shrugged, turning to face him. "Everyone I meet will be staring at my crotch, or trying not to stare at my crotch. All I´ll remember is being embarrassed, wondering if they´re talking about me cause I can´t understand French." I peered at Spike from beneath lowered lashes, then tried to un–tuck the shirt just enough to spill over the waist of my pants, shadowing my engorged dick. I hoped he would let me get away with it. He didn´t. Spike came up to stand in front of me, swatting my hands away he began tucking the fabric in again.
"You´ll have fun, Pet," Spike smiled as he worked. I felt his hand linger against my hardness as he pushed the shirt back in. He reached around to the small of my back and pushed the material down, over the uppermost swell of my ass. Spike´s hands drifted further to cup the fullness of my bottom, pulling me forward to press my hard cock against his own erection. My hands flew up to grip his arms.
"I have something special planned for you, Pet," Spike said, slowly grinding into me. "You´ll have fun. And don´t worry, you won´t be the only one out tonight who´s hard."
I frowned. I couldn´t think straight as Spike offered up the friction my cock craved. I thought I had known what it was like to be hard most of the time because of Anya. Over the past two months, Spike had shown me that what I had given Anya was akin to the inexperienced fumbling of teenage virgins in the back of a car.
"But, um, your pants," I said breathlessly, trying to keep my eyes open, trying to think. Trying not to focus on the feel of Spike rubbing sinuously against me. Spike chuckled.
"What about ´em, Pet?"
"They´re, uhh, they´re no–not tight," I finally gasped out.
"No Pet," Spike said.
"People won´t see you´re hard. They´ll see me," I heard the whine creep into my voice and wished I could´ve stopped it. Spike sighed and stepped away from me. Only a slim grip on my control prevented me from driving my hips forward, hoping to prolong the contact. Spike buttoned up my breeches. I gritted my teeth as the fabric tightened painfully across my hard–on.
"I can see you won´t let this go," Spike said. "Fine then, let´s deal."
"Deal?" I asked.
"I´ll give you five minutes to go soft, you do that and you don´t have to be hard around me tonight. But only tonight." Spike stepped closer to me and leaned in to sniff my neck before moving upward to whisper against my ear. "If you don´t Pet, then you´ll stay hard. You´ll stay hard and flaunt it."
"What if I don´t deal?" I asked. If anyone had asked me whether I considered myself an instigator a few months ago, I would have answered no, that I don´t like confrontation. Apparently, Spike brought out the adversarial side of me. He shrugged.
"Then it´s up to you Pet," Spike said. "If you don´t stay hard while we´re out, you´ll be punished, but I won´t stop our night of fun over it."
So far, Spike´s punishments consisted of little things. Once or twice he had taken my pens away from me. Other times he had simply not shown up or he wouldn´t read to me since I couldn´t read French. The worst was when he would ignore me; he would show up but act as if I weren´t there. Trying to get a reaction from him usually caused him to leave the room. So, even if this didn´t work, I could handle whatever Spike planned to dish out. There was no way I´d stay hard like this walking the streets.
"Alright, let´s deal first," I replied. Spike lips quirked up on one side and he reached into the pocket of his vest, he pulled out a gold pocket watch. The yellow metal gleamed by the firelight. Spike opened up the timepiece and held it so I could see the face.
"Five minutes, Pet," he said. "Starting now."
I rolled my shoulders, stretching a bit as I sat. I kind of expected my erection to just...fade away. I didn´t need to be hard right now and usually when Spike left I wilted soon after. I looked at Spike who stared back at me, smirking. I frowned at him. My erection wasn´t going away.
"Keep it to yourself, Spike," I said sharply. Okay, getting rid of my hard on now. I tried to remember the creepiest ugliest demon I´d read about or had fought. Yeech. Nasty visual...which wasn´t working.
"Only a couple minutes left, Pet," Spike said with a grin. "How´s that working for ya?"
"Shut up, Spike," I said, glaring at the smiling vampire. Spike stayed quiet for a short time.
"I´m thinking it´s not going to happen in the next thirty seconds, eh Pet?" Spike stood up, bringing my shoes with him.
"Shut up, Spike!" I sounded desperate. I couldn´t believe this. Why was I staying hard? It was as if my dick was no longer connected to my brain. It certainly didn´t seem discouraged by the images of death and destruction that I had produced. Even my mother, stumbling around on a Sunday morning with curlers in her medusa hair and wearing a frayed bathrobe, hadn´t been able to curb my enthusiasm. Fuck. Angrily, I jammed my feet into the leather boots that Spike had set beside me. Creepy, undead evil guy, he must have known. I stood up and glared at Spike. I could feel the anger flushing my skin as I took in his smirking countenance.
"You knew I wouldn´t be able to do it, didn´t you?" I snarled, yanking the vest that he held out from his hands, jerking my arms through the holes and buttoning it up. I wanted to just rip it in half, throw it back in his face. I wanted to have a tantrum. I hated Spike.
"Didn´t know Pet, not for sure," Spike said smugly. "But I had my suspicions."
"I don´t like you," I muttered grumpily. "And I´m not gonna stay like this when we go out."
"That´s your choice, Pet" Spike said. He came over to me and began knotting a tie around my neck, tucking it under the collar of my shirt. "You already know that there´ll be consequences for misbehavior."
I snorted, not looking at him. I smoothed my hands over the fabric of my shirt, vest and cravat. Spike tapped my arm with a hat, a tall hat that rose in a stiff circle of black silk, flat at the top. A curved brim wrapped around it, trimmed in black velvet. Spike wanted me to wear a top hat and he held a jacket. One that matched the fabric of the hat that I now held.
"Geez, you old dudes used to wear way more clothes than you needed to," I said slipping on the coat first.
"Not going to disagree with you, Pet," Spike whispered as he reached a hand up to run his fingers through my tousled locks. "Prefer you naked. I can better enjoy your warmth and the sweet smell of arousal that covers you whenever I´m around."
The smells that he referred to rose up as my erection pulsed at his words. Shit, I hurt. I wished I could get off before we left. I wondered if I could find a restroom later, to relieve myself, away from Spike´s prying eyes and ears.
"Never meant naked," I said petulantly. "And you know it."
Spike shrugged and walked to the door. His coat was slung over his arm, his hat in hand.
"Coming, Pet?" He asked, raising his eyebrow at me.
"Fucking wish," I muttered under my breath.
I adjusted my cock, hoping for some relief, before I walked to meet Spike at the door. Spike stepped into the hallway and I followed, closing the door behind us. I fell in step beside him as he walked through the hallways of the mansion. Being dragged to the bath everyday, I was somewhat familiar with the first hallway. Walking the distance was different from being carried unwillingly. A long runner carpeted the floor and paintings decorated the walls. Spike and I rounded a corner and he led me up a wide stone staircase. At the top of the stairs a minion sat beside a heavy wooden door. He withdrew a large ring of keys from his pocket.
"Bon soir, Maitre William," he greeted.
"Bon soir, Tomas," Spike replied, handing him a key before continuing in a flood of French that I couldn´t recognize. Minutes later, the minion had keyed open the door, swinging it wide. Spike and I walked through and my jaw dropped. Holy fucking shit. The floor was tiled in marble; its mirror finish reflected the chandelier that hung from the high ceiling. A curving wooden staircase rose upward on my right and double doors were on my left. An antique chair rested beside a hall table opposite us; a sprawling floral arrangement was the only decoration set atop it. A man at the door, who was dressed in a dark suit and white gloves, stood up upon our arrival. I barely noticed. I was awed. Spike was rich. Like big time, Dracula is the only other vampire that came close to this, rich.
"You–you´re loaded," I whispered almost reverently. I was speared by guilt when Spike turned to look at me. Of course, he wasn´t rich. He and Angelus had probably killed whoever had lived here, before copping a squat. Spike smiled at me.
"Angelus likes his luxuries and contrary to popular belief, I do as well," Spike said.
"Oh," I said pointlessly, then looked up at Spike who was staring at me silently. "Can we just go now."
I glanced over at the doorman who sniffed in disdain at my remark. Either that or he was commenting at the state of my arousal without actually saying a word. I flushed, knowing that he must be looking at me, even though, for the most part, he seemed to be ignoring us.
"We´ll leave in a moment," Spike said. "But first we must cover one rule. It´s important you obey this rule, Pet, so please, do not forget yourself."
Oh no. Anxiously, I waited. Hoping that whatever Spike asked of me was something that I could do. Something I would do willingly for a night out on the town.
"Well?"
Spike arched an eyebrow at me.
"From here on out, you will not speak without my permission," Spike said.
I opened my mouth to ask something but caught myself at the look on Spike´s face. Instead, I tentatively raised my hand. Must have been the right thing to do because a Spike´s lips twisted up at the corners.
"Not like that, Pet," he said, placing his hand against my own. "Like this." Spike drew my hand down next to his other one and lightly brushed my fingers against his. "Or like this." My hand was moved to brush against Spike´s hip. "If you´re kneeling, you´re to use your head, instead of your hand. Do you understand?"
And that right there answered my question. I thought these rules were only for tonight, but it sounded like I´d be following these restrictions from now on.
"Spike–," I began.
"You don´t have my permission to speak, Pet," Spike said genially. I peered around him at the old guy standing by the door, watching us. I cleared my throat.
"Sorry," I whispered, before realizing that I still didn´t have his permission. I grabbed Spike´s hand then quickly released it. Why isn´t he saying anything? And why does he look amused? I shuffled nervously while waiting, refusing to meet Spike´s eyes. Finally, I look down slightly to meet Spike´s gaze. I noted the strangeness of that act since I spent most of my time looking up at Spike. He stared back at me impassively.
"Forget–," I said, before cutting myself off. Forget it. Didn´t really need to know. Spike must have known what I was going to say. Either that or he enjoyed making my life painful. Duh.
"Not leaving, Pet," Spike said. "Not until you tell me what you wanted to say and you can´t do that unless you obtain my permission to speak."
I didn´t move at the proclamation. More and more I thought that Spike really didn´t want to take me out to see Paris. That this was just another one of his mind games.
"Pet, do you really want to spend your evening in the foyer?"
I shook my head. No, I wanted to go out and see the city. I hated Spike for making this so difficult. I was mad at myself for saying anything. I should have known Spike would take anything I said the wrong way. I reached my hand forward, curling my palm around one lean hip. Desperately, I tried to ignore the avid gaze of the butler standing close by. I waited but Spike hadn´t said anything. I moved again, this time, I let my hand linger against him while I waited. Spike still refused to grant me permission to speak. Spike angled his head and looked at me. I didn´t recognize his expression and only when he stepped to the side did I realize what he wanted. The man at the door could clearly see me now; Spike´s body no longer partially shielded me from view. My eyes swung from him to Spike, then back. Oh god. Suddenly, staying in the foyer appealed to me.
"I´m waiting, Pet," Spike spoke softly.
I chanced a glance at Spike and I could see the gleam in his eye. He knew that I knew. Spike didn´t want me to just obtain his permission; he wanted me to obtain his permission from my knees, in front of this complete stranger. I swallowed, nervously fidgeting with my hands. I reached up and took my hat off. I stared at my feet, wondering what to do, if I should do this. Spike was waiting, staring at me intently while the butler watched us with equal fascination and I just wanted to get away from those prying eyes boring into me. I dropped to my knees. I stared at Spike´s shiny leather shoes and I could feel my body trembling. I tried not to think about what I was doing and rubbed my head into Spike´s hand but he said nothing. I did it again, all the while I stared at his shiny leather boots. I heard the faintest scuff and remembered the butler. My face heated in shame; I leaned forward pressed my cheek, then forehead against Spike´s jutting hipbone. The coolness of Spike´s skin seeped through the fabric of his slacks, permeating my warmed skin. Spike´s hand delved into my hair, angling my head upward to look at him.
"What did you want to say, Pet?" Spike asked. I closed my eyes against the triumphant look in Spike´s blue gaze. A muscle twitched along my jaw.
"I wondered...er, thought...the rule thing was just for tonight," I said.
"No Pet," Spike said. "You will be expected to follow any rule that I give you from that moment on."
"What...what´re the rules?" I had to ask because I only knew this one. I was certain that whatever rules Spike listed would ruin my night but I had to know. Spike sighed above me. I got the impression that he was exasperated.
"One new rule, Pet," Spike said. "No speaking without permission. You´ll learn the others later."
"Okay," I readily agreed, hoping to get off of the floor and out of the door in record time. Spike was having none of it.
"Open your eyes, Pet," Spike said. I forced my eyes open. Spike stared down at me and I could just make out the butler in my peripheral vision. Spike reached out with his other hand and flicked at my shirt and vest. One booted foot nudged the hat that I still held in my hands. "Tonight I allow you to wear the attire of a gentleman. We´ll go out and you´ll meet people, may even have the opportunity to speak to high society folk. I want you to enjoy yourself, you´ve done well and this is your reward." Spike leaned down close to me, his mouth near my ear. "But no amount of clothing or conversation will erase the fact that I am your Master. You belong to me."
I flushed with embarrassment at Spike´s softly spoken words. His proclamations pounded through my skull. Spike´s hand curved down the side of my face as he pulled away and I locked eyes with him.
"Try not to forget the rule, Pet," Spike smiled as he traced my lower lip with his thumb. Spike tapped my nose gently before pulling away. "Do you understand?" Spike asked. "Will you obey the new rule?"
I thought about this. It shouldn´t be too hard to keep my mouth shut tonight. It seemed like a fair trade. I nodded. That didn´t seem to be enough for Spike so I murmured a quiet yes. Spike didn´t release me or allow me to get up. His eyes drilled into mine as he said something in French to the butler, who quickly moved away at Spike´s command. I brushed my hand against Spike´s hip. He smiled and looked down at me.
"Yes, Pet?"
"What did you tell him?" I asked.
"To have my carriage brought round," Spike smirked down at me as he held out a hand to help me to my feet. "I told him that my Pet needed a breath of fresh air."
