Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made here.
Warnings: D/s, bondage, a little light torture, dirty talking
Spoilers: None that I noticed but let me know if you find any
Summary: Xander loses his temper and Spike teaches him a lesson
Written for: _green_ in the 2004 Spander Inquisition.
Wanted: sub!Xander fic. And hurt/comfort. And whimpery, needy Xander. With love. Or just anything, really. Schmoopiness is fine.
Didn't want: Don't hurt Xander unless he likes it.
Xander had been home for a grand total of seventeen minutes before he snapped.
"Dammit, Spike! Which part of 'I'm not in the mood' did you not understand? I know you get bored sometimes being indoors all day but I'm not your fucktoy! It's been a bitch of a week at work. I've got two foremen out sick and their replacements must be from Incompetents-R-Us because they've done nothing but screw up. And the foundations at the second site haven't set properly so that means we either miss deadline and lose the bonus or pay overtime to the idiots that did it wrong in the first place so they can put it right! The last thing I need right now is you acting like a bitch in heat climbing all over me when I just want to sit here and have a quiet beer!"
Spike froze for a moment, then quickly crawled out of Xander's lap and stood up.
"Well, I'll just leave you to your 'quiet beer' shall I, Pet? Wouldn't want you to strain yourself trying to be polite to an evil creature like me, just because I'm so happy to see you finally come home four hours later than usual. I'm going out for an hour or two so you can be alone with your foul temper. Try and be in a better mood by the time I come back, eh, luv?"
The sound of the door slamming had Xander jumping to his feet and racing up the stairs.
An hour later, Spike let himself back into the house. Xander was nowhere to be seen, but there was a white hand towel draped over the back of the sofa, and Spike released the breath he hadn't realised he was holding. Every time it happened, he was never completely sure that... Cutting off that train of thought, he discarded his duster and moved quickly up the stairs, pausing for a moment outside the door of what used to be their spare bedroom, until Xander had remodeled it to their exacting specifications.
Almost tingling with anticipation, Spike opened the door and stepped into their playroom.
Xander showered and prepared himself thoroughly and quickly, knowing that no matter what Spike said, he would be back in precisely one hour. Naked but for a cockring, his body sparingly oiled, he entered the playroom and knelt in the circle of identical words etched into the hardwood floor. Facing the door he crossed his wrists behind his back and dropped his head to gaze at the single word that now defined his existence. One word, that surrounded him, making him whole. 'Mine'. And he waited.
Spike stepped into the room and slowly circled his beautiful, naked boy.
"Who am I?"
"What are you?"
Xander's eyes traced the word that filled his vision and without pause uttered the only possible response. "Yours."
The word sent a thrill down Spike's spine, ending in his already painfully hard groin.
"Do you have something you want to say to me, Mine?"
Stepping forward, Spike placed the toes of his boots precisely on the edge of the circle. "Well?"
Xander dropped his forehead to the toe of one boot, bringing the curve of his spine, ending in dutifully crossed wrists, into prominence. Spike smiled slightly in approval.
"I'm sorry, Master. I was rude, and disrespectful, and thoughtless. I should have called to let you know I was going to be later than I originally said."
"Is that all? What about your worst sin, Mine? No apology for that?"
"You don't even remember what you did? You refused me access to what is mine. This body before me is mine to use as I desire, yet you rejected my attentions. What do you have to say about that, Mine?"
"I'm... I'm sorry, Master. Sorry."
"So, do you think that is sufficient, Mine? Do you think I should accept your apology and be done with it? I should let you get up, get dressed, and hope that next time you're in a foul mood you remember what happened today?"
Xander swallowed hard and tried to speak past the lump in his throat.
"No, Master. I need to be punished, Master. It's the only way I learn my lessons, Master."
"I suppose I should be thankful that you have at least learned that much. Now, before I give you the punishment you asked for, suck me off."
The blunt order had both men aching before Xander even reached out and released Spike's erection from the confines of his impossibly tight black jeans.
Leaning forward, Xander licked from root to tip, marveling once more at the feel of satin over ivory, cool and damp and oh so very hard. His hands rose, latching onto hollowed hips, as he closed his mouth around the head of Master's cock. He toyed with the foreskin; slipping his tongue under and sliding it round, delighting in the small sounds of pleasure that came from above. Eagerly he lapped up the precious fluid that seeped from the crown, before slowly lowering his head to take in more of the shaft. Licking and swallowing, he took it deeper, rejoicing in the mastery he had finally attained over his gag reflex and recalling the reward he had received for his efforts.
Releasing the denim-clad hips, Xander moved one hand lower to grasp the root of Master's cock, and used the other hand to cradle and caress the tight sac below. He knew Master was close to completion and doubled his efforts, stroking and squeezing and swallowing around the thick column in his throat. Then another lesson occurred to him, which he immediately put into practice, humming some snatch of tune he vaguely remembered from the drive home. With a sharp cry, Master came, pumping into his throat, emptying himself into his most willing vessel. Not a single drop was spilled, another lesson learned, and Master patted his head to show his pleasure.
His own erection, bound in steel and leather, ached ferociously, but Xander knew better than to try and touch himself; knew better than to come without permission. And so he concentrated on breathing deeply, calming himself while Master readied himself for the next part of the evening.
"What punishment do you think you deserve, Mine?" Spike watched Xander quiver as the possibilities ran though his head before he gave the only correct response to the question.
"Whatever punishment you wish, Master."
"On your back, on the bed, arms above your head. Now."
Xander was there before Spike had finished speaking, obediently laid out for his master's enjoyment, and in moments he was chained, spread-eagled, to the bed's reinforced iron frame, and Spike stood to one side, stroking the bound erection displayed so prettily before him.
"You refused me, Mine. You denied me satisfaction, so I think your punishment should be like for like. I am going to use you, pleasure myself on you, in you, and you are going to lie there and take it. You will not come tonight unless I decide to allow it. From now on you are going to remember that you are my 'fucktoy' and I can use you how and when I please without regard for your pleasure. And if you beg, even once, for release, it will be denied. Do you understand, Mine?"
Xander whimpered, and nodded, already so aroused he could barely think. Just hearing Master explain what he was going to do was enough to have him balanced on a knife-edge of pleasure and pain.
"Tell me, Mine. I need to know you understand the rules or the lesson is worthless."
It took Xander three attempts before he was able to speak coherently.
"You are going to use me, your... fucktoy, however you wish, Master, and if I... if I beg for release you won't let me come... at all."
"Then let's begin, shall we?"
Spike stripped slowly, reveling in the lust pouring off his boy in waves. He slid one pale hand down his own body, pausing to tweak tight pink nipples, before continuing down over almost visible ribs and smooth, hollowed stomach. Down, following the faint trail of dark hair, into the nest of curls and up again to wrap around his once again painfully hard cock for one quick stroke and tug.
Starting at Xander's feet, Spike kissed, stroked, licked and nibbled every inch of skin, the warmth of the overheated, blood-filled flesh searing his lips and calling to his demon. By the time he had worked his way up to the top of those well-muscled thighs, he was barely in control and knew he had to have at least a taste, just to tide him over until the main event.
Ridged brow pressed against confined cock and fangs sank smoothly into the seam between thigh and hip, and Xander was screaming, body taut as a bow, arched up off the bed in an impossible curve, supported by buttocks and back of head, chains pulled tight, heels drumming, wanting, needing release.
But the rules were to be followed, so Xander controlled the urge to beg, to plead, to pray to be allowed to come. And Master was pleased. He took no more than was necessary to soothe the demon, and then licked closed the wounds, like he had so many others, so that they faded away to specks of nothing.
Pulling back, Spike examined the purple cock bouncing before his face. He knew from experience that it had to hurt, but there had been no cry, no plea, so he was free to continue his journey upwards. He granted the bound erection one long slow lick, from balls to slit, before crawling up the sweat-slicked body beneath him to kneel astride Xander's taut abdomen, sitting back on his heels.
"Watch, now, Mine. Watch me give myself pleasure, so close to that hard cock of yours. See, I can get myself off without needing to feel that hard spear of flesh inside me, without needing to be inside your hot, tight arse. Oh, I'm not saying I don't like it, cos I do, Mine, I do. But this time it's just me, and my hand, while you watch and wish you were inside me, fucking me until I scream and clench and bear down on you until you don't know where you end and I begin..." As he spoke, Spike pumped his cock mercilessly, eyes never moving from those of the man under him, panting and shaking. "This is about marking you..." his hand moved faster and his hips began to buck. "Reminding you of your place in life... under me... however I want you... screaming... for me..."
Shuddering, he came; ropy strings of pearlescent fluid painting the torso and face before him. Xander whimpered and strained to lick cool semen from his lips and what parts of his chest and shoulders he could reach, until Spike slapped his cheek, just hard enough to sting, hard enough to make him freeze.
"Did I tell you to do that? Don't be greedy, Mine. I have something else I want to do with this."
Collecting up a generous amount of his spend on his fingers, Spike lifted himself onto his knees and reached back, sliding a naturally lubed finger deep inside himself in one smooth movement. After a moment he added another, stretching himself just a little, wanting to feel the burn when he rode his boy.
"Got myself all worked up, I did, talking about how much you wanted to be inside me. So, I thought, why not? You're nice and hard already, and it seems a shame to waste a pretty treat like that. And you're gonna stay hard for as long as I want, aren't you, Mine? I could ride you all night and you wouldn't say a word about wanting to come, would you?" He didn't give Xander a chance to answer, not that there was much danger of that happening, he guessed from his boy's dazed expression.
With a wicked grin, Spike reached back, angled his own hips just so... and eased himself down onto Xander's straining hard-on until he felt the steel and leather cockring press against his arse.
Xander's hands tightened convulsively on the chains that anchored him to this plane of existence, and his eyes rolled back in his head. The feel of Master's cool, virgin tight, ass sheathing his own over-sensitized flesh almost stopped Xander's heart. If he died now, he'd be dying happier than he'd ever been, and the fact that he was buried balls deep in an undead demon didn't give him one moment's pause. He knew he was probably going to hell when he died, but until then he planned to wring every possible ounce of pleasure from life. And that meant not coming. Again.
He gritted his teeth and tried not to sob as Master bounced up and down on his cock, grinding down to stimulate his prostate before lifting up until only the head remained inside his cool passage, and then down again, fast, and twist, grind, clench, over and over again until Xander lost all track of time and didn't even notice when the tears began to soak into his hair and pillow.
Spike knew he was close, and briefly considered coming all over Xander once more, but he hated to repeat himself. Instead, he lifted completely off the cock he had been riding so hard and reached back to unfasten the leg chains.
Xander forced himself to focus on Master. Master had stopped, but he hadn't come. Had he done something wrong? He whimpered fretfully as he tried to decide whether he should ask, and then all thought fled as he felt his legs freed, and lifted and ohgodohgodohgod Master was in him, hard and fast, buried deep in the tunnel Xander had so carefully prepared and lubricated all those hours ago.
Knowing he was seconds away from coming, Spike reached down to unfasten the cockring his boy had put in place at the beginning of the evening, and then began fisting the purple flesh as his hips flexed and jerked, pounding into the willing body beneath him. "Come for me! Now!"
Cool semen pumped into hot bowels as hot semen coated cool and sweat-slicked skin. Spike fell forward and slid his fangs into Xander's arched throat, taking just a mouthful before withdrawing.
"Yours." It was barely a croak, but it was all Xander could manage, and he was amazed he was even capable of that.
Spike pulled gently out of Xander, unchained him, and carried him across the hall into the master bathroom where the hot tub was ready and waiting. Still holding the limp body in his arms he stepped into the bubbling water and settled down on one of the custom designed doublewide benches.
Holding Xander tight to his chest with his left hand, he used his right to rinse the rapidly cooling sweat off his precious boy. It was several minutes before he saw any signs of life.
"Xander? Pet? You okay?"
Xander groaned and tried to wriggle closer.
"Mmm, thanks Spike, I needed that. Like I said, it's been a bitch of a week. You always know how to make it all better." Xander forced his arm to lift and pull Spike's head down to his own so he could kiss that beautiful mouth.
"Love you too, Pet."
Originally posted here!