Title: Scents and Sensibility
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Originally posted here: Scents and Sensibility
Scents and Sensibility
Xander comes round slowly, conscious of the fact that things are different now but unsure of just what it is that has changed. And why.
Everything seems somehow more. Sounds are louder, sharper, clearer. Each thread, warp and weft, of the cotton sheets beneath his naked form are suddenly rough, distinct against his skin. And then he draws his first breath and is overwhelmed by a tidal wave of scent.
Blood. Stale sweat. Sex. Smoke and leather. And something else, something special, something he should recognise, would recognise if he could only focus for a moment...
"S'okay Xan. Calm down."
Nuzzling closer, Xander inhales deeply and purrs in satisfaction.
"Sire, you smell so good, so... different. Spicy and sharp, like lime, allspice, liquorice and brimstone. Smells so good, Spike. Delicious. I want another taste. Let me?"
"That's the demon in me, luv. Yours is in there too if you just concentrate. You're still chocolate and cheetos, but now with added cinnamon, copper, sulphur and sage. And no, no more tasting. You've had enough for now. I want you fresh and ready for the hunt tonight, okay? I think it's time you went out on your own. I want to watch."
The scent of fear was an amazingly effective aphrodisiac, he realised as he slowly stalked his prey. He'd let the idiot try to run to ground then penned him in. He liked it when his meals fought back; he had more fun that way. He knew that Sire - Spike - got off on watching him take them down. If he thought it odd that Xander still played the hero he never said, allowing him his choice of mugger, rapist, perv or pimp.
"Get on with it, eh, Xan? I can smell you're hard from here and I want a shag."
Hide and Seek
Spike checks the final knot before stepping back to admire his handiwork.
"It'll take you about an hour to wriggle free and by then I'll be safely hid away. All you have to do is follow your nose until you find me. If you make good time I'll even let you top."
It takes almost ninety minutes to escape, but once free Xander makes amazing time. He tracks the fading scents of Sire, smoke and aging leather, to an old deserted warehouse at the docks that smells of fish.
Spike is waiting, naked and slicked up.
"You took your time."