Broken Revenge
by
Lit Gal
Part Thirteen
"Bloody hell." At the sound of his Master's voice, Xander would have thrown himself at Spike's feet if he hadn't already broken far too many rules. "He didn't bloody deserve to be left here like he'd done somethin' wrong. Soddin' wanker attacked *him*." Xander felt the touch on his head and he rose into the Down kneel, keeping his gaze on the ground as he rested his butt on his heels. Long fingers reached down to pet his hair, pulling sections out from under the muzzle straps.
"Just policy," the grey demon answered, clearly back in 'don't bother me' mode.
"Bloody, fucking..." Spike stopped as suddenly as he began. "Wankers," he finished as he turned away in a swirl of leather. Xander rose and followed silently, muzzled and without any decorations. And really, he knew he had reached new lows when the lack of decorations bothered him more than the muzzle. For the first time, he found himself grateful for the stupid bells around his ankle because it distracted him from the absence of warm chains sliding over his back as he walked.
Spike charged into the crowd, and Xander hurried to follow without breaking form. Eventually Spike turned the corner to the sections that led to the living quarters. Xander thought Spike was taking him back to their quarters, possibly for a reminder about why they needed to be on best behavior. Instead Spike dropped on a bench between two potted plants near the hallway that led to the stairs.
Xander immediately went to his knees at Spike's side. He wanted to explain, especially since he didn't know how much Spike had seen, but the muzzle prevented that. He kept his head down in shame, but Spike's fingers reached under his chin and tilted his head up.
"Saw the whole thing, pet, and you didn't do a single thing to regret. Well, 'cept maybe not kickin' that wanker hard enough to put out a couple of teeth." Spike used the back of his index finger to stoke a small section of Xander's cheek. Xander gave a small sob and felt the tears start at that tender gesture. He wasn't even sure why he was crying, but Spike just used a finger to wipe away the tears before pulling Xander's head into his lap.
"Don't bloody have the key to the cuffs or the muzzle. Can't get those 'til we go before the soddin' council." Xander leaned into Spike until his Master was supporting much of his weight.
"Blamed yourself, didn't ya, pet?" Spike asked, and Xander nodded as he tried to slow his breathing before he clogged up his nose with snot. He could breathe through his mouth, but it was uncomfortable since he had to curl his lip up to do it.
"Ya didn't do a thing wrong. Can't blame yourself for every bad thing that happens in life," Spike said as he drew small symbols on Xander's body using his finger tips. Xander concentrated on the feeling of his Master's touch tracing his body so much that another problem started to assert itself. Spike laughed quietly.
"Got a problem there, mate?" he teased as he used the top of his boot to rub Xander's genitals inside the leather pouch. Xander groaned and pushed his forehead into Spike's thighs as he tried to avoid humping the conveniently placed boot. Spike laughed again.
"Can't see the council for a good two hours, pet, so don't get yourself too worked up," Spike warned, and Xander had to think that through. It wasn't like they hadn't had sex with Xander tied up in the past. He looked up at his Master, and Spike either knew him well enough to read his expression even with the leather straps over the bridge of his nose and his chin and his forehead or the vampire had picked up a few skills from Dru.
"Before, if ya had a problem, I was there to get you loose, remind ya that you weren't trapped in the nightmare. Can't cut you loose now, not the cuffs on your hands, and if I cut the muzzle, there'll be hell ta pay." Xander thought back to the night when an open window had allowed the overpoweringly sweet smell of apple blossom to drift indoors, a scent that had reminded Xander of a client who had held him down and raped his mouth enthusiastically. A demon whose musk had smelled of apple. Spike had ignored his own needs as he had pulled the restraints off Xander's shaking body and held him tight.
The fact that his Master considered such a possibility made Xander even needier, and now the pouch seemed entirely too small. Rather than back away, Xander scooted forward and pressed his crotch into Spike's leg as he started a slow torturous rubbing that caused equal parts of glorious pleasure and frustrated pain as his cock struggled against the imprisoning leather.
"Nut," Spike complained mildly, and Xander just rubbed his cheek against Spike's hip invitingly.
"Good animal there," a deep voice rumbled, and Xander jumped before going back into position at Spike's feet. Nice. Get caught horribly out of form when the demons here already didn't like him. Yep, Droopy Harris rides again. He shook his head a little so that the curls Spike had pulled loose would fall in front of his face hiding the muzzle.
"Wot of it?" Spike asked suspiciously.
"Just a comment. I'm trying to figure out where you fit into this, vampire."
"Just here to show my pet and do some buyin'," Spike said, and out of the corner of his eye, Xander could see Spike reach for his cigarettes.
"That's just it. Never knew a vampire to keep a pet for anything other than torturing, but your animal clearly isn't tortured."
"Oh, he was, mate, only it wasn't me that did it."
"Yes, I'm aware that the West Coast circles had gotten out of hand. Too many bad breeders and slavers in that area with the Hellmouth feeding Pylean and Etperan portals and Wolfram and Hart getting their fingers into the markets."
"Don't bloody care who did what. They took somethin' that belonged to me. My sire made a gift of him."
"Is that why you destroyed the market and drove half the slavers out of business?"
"Never said that was me," Spike snapped back, and Xander was on the verge of panicking when talented fingers started stroking the skin of his neck and shoulder. Xander wondered what would happen to him if these people decided to try and kill his Master. Of course, trying to kill Spike didn't mean succeeding. He knew that. Buffy had learned that. And Angel… Giles… most of the demons at Willie's place. Oh, the Initiative. They'd tried really hard to kill Spike, and Spike was still walking around even after all the soldiers were gone.
Xander told himself to trust Spike even though his fingers itched for a weapon. A suddenly flash of himself trying to fight with his hands tied behind his back nearly triggered hysterical laughter, and Xander breathed deeply to try and repress the laughter and the fear.
"It's not that I care. I run a large stable, and the idea of my stock ending up in that perversion rather bothered me," the low voice said amicably. Xander wished he could look up and see if the demon was being sarcastic, but Xander held himself formally with his head bowed too low to see anything other than the floor.
"Yeah, not planning on runnin' a stable, just want a companion for the boy," Spike said in a half-truth.
"He is beautiful, and he clearly does not have the uncontrolled aggression many of the larger males seem to suffer."
"Oi, he's got himself a temper, but it doesn't keep him from having common sense." Xander might have questioned that given the chance since his common sense had been noticeably lacking lately and he knew where there was a big pile of broken CD's to prove it.
"I'll pay one thousand for ten confirmed pregnancies." Xander's soul froze as his brain processed those words.
"Not sellin' his services," Spike answered softly in the voice that Xander had learned to fear far more than Spike's yelling.
"I run a good stable. Happy animals. I specialize in smaller animals, less aggressive males. The breeders around here are too concerned with breeding large, strong animals, and it's hard to find a good stallion who isn't aggressive."
"Bully for you--don't bloody care."
"Two thousand."
"Mate, you're startin' to bother me."
"Just keep the offer in mind. The name’s Dareh," the deep voice suggested before footsteps with a dragging sound that might have been a tail or just really, really heavy feet.
"Wanker," Spike offered to the demon's back before standing. "Council meets in just under two hours. Don't really want to parade you around in your new gear, so let's just head back to the room. Xander stood and followed Spike up the stairs and toward their assigned rooms.
Once they had gotten to the room safely and locked the door, Spike threw his duster on the bed and dropped onto the couch.
"They're just as batty as the others," Spike said, and Xander nodded slowly as he looked at the duster. He should put it away, but with his hands bound he couldn't even reach the hangers. He couldn't pick up a coat or fight or even wipe his own nose. Xander thought back to his training and realized that wasn't exactly true. Yeah, the cuffs were similar to the ones he constantly wore with Lirowaus, but Spike wasn't Lirowaus.
For one thing, Xander wanted Spike. He wanted to feel Spike buried inside him. He wanted to watch as Spike lost all control and shifted into game face as he thrust harder and harder. He wanted to feel Spike's legs tremble with need. He wanted to know that he could make Spike pant for air and make Spike's cock hard with need. Oh, for a slave who wasn't supposed to want anything, he wanted lots and lots of stuff.
Xander started his silent dance from earlier, rolling his hips as he arched his body in slow waves. He smiled awkwardly around the bit in his mouth dipped his head in time to a song that existed only in his head. He didn't even know the title, he just remembered the melody from some station Willow used to listen to. Letting his eyes fall half closed, he surrendered his body to the half-remembered notes, swaying from side to side in time with the beat.
Half turning away from Spike, he glanced over his shoulder only to find yellow eyes watching him intensely. He added a shoulder roll as he let his head fall to one side so that a shoulder curved invitingly. Another glance told him that he was close to winning since his Master's hands gripped the arm of the couch brutally. Xander rolled his hips in a pattern that would have sent his hip chains twirling before letting his head fall to the other side exposing the opposite side of his neck.
Xander backed up slowly so that he was standing in front of Spike with his back to his Master. Still swaying with the music, Xander widened his stance so that he was poised over Spike's lap. Slowly he lowered himself onto his Master lap, his fingers searching for the button and zipper of Spike's jeans. Spike's hands found his waist and then slid around to his stomach and Xander threw his legs open in a silent plea.
Spike chuckled in a tone that reminded Xander of Angelus before fingers slid under the waist of the pouch without removing the tight covering. Xander mewled helplessly as he dropped his head to Spike's shoulder so that the front of his neck curved outward.
Every time Angel visited, Xander found at least one chance to offer Spike his neck this way. The first time it had been an accident. He had been walking by after taking the popcorn bowl to the kitchen, and Spike had reached out to pull him down into his Master's lap. Xander had happily submitted, dropping the back of his head to Spike's shoulder, and Spike had gone stiff. Thinking he had done something wrong, Xander sat up to find Angel game faced and ready to pull the upholstery off the couch with his death grip on the arm of the couch.
Afterward, Spike had told him that Angel emitted such a wave of pheromones that Spike had been temporarily reminded of his own days under Angelus. Now Xander did it on purpose to torture Angel, and since he had started, Angel visited much less often. However, Xander had also discovered that the sight of his neck arched out had a similar effect on his Master. The zipper under his fingers yielded and Xander slipped a finger in the opening to find his Master's cock in the hope Spike would do the same for him.
Instead Spike's finger moved up to pinch a nipple, and Xander bucked up in pleasure even as he groaned in pain as his cock demanded more space.
"Problem there, pet?" Spike whispered in his ear, and Xander squirmed as fingers teased one nipple while Spike's second hand cupped his trapped cock. "Think I feel somethin' moving in there," Spike announced calmly as though he didn't know that the added pressure made Xander desperate for more even as he was desperate to make the pressure stop. The result was that Xander twisted and pressed the back of his head into Spike's shoulder as he took needy gasps through his nose. Xander threw his legs as far open as he could as he thrust up into that hand.
"Know what I'd like to do to you?" Spike asked. "I'd like to bloody throw you face down on the bed and drive into you as you beg for my cock. Want to hear you promise me anything if I'll just take you and make you mine." Xander nodded enthusiastically and thrust forward. The hand that had been working his nipples slipped between their bodies, and Xander didn't even notice until Spike pushed aside the strap that went between his legs. A single finger invaded him and Xander made a squeaking sound that he blamed on the muzzle because as a man he did not squeak. It was written in the man-code, right after the rule where he didn't admit to wanting to crawl into another man's lap to cry.
Xander sat up as he straddled Spike's lap, trying to impale himself farther. The angle was wrong, and Spike wasn't anywhere near his prostate, but the feeling of his master inside him, moving, twisting, bending sent him humping and pressing back into the sensation.
"You bloody need me, don't you pet?" Spike asked, and the finger inside him bent as Spike's other hand lay flat against Xander's back. Xander nodded again as he started rocking against the finger. His cock screamed, and Xander just didn't care. Well, he did, but the pleasure of feeling Spike inside him more than made up for the ache of his imprisoned cock.
The finger was pulled out, and Spike's hands were on his waist, lifting him. Xander thought his Master just wanted to stand, and he moved forward until he could stand on his own, but Spike kept pushing him until he was in front of the bed. Xander immediately bent over so that he was lying on the bed with his groin off the edge and his feet on the floor.
"Stay right here," Spike ordered with a slap on Xander's butt that left Xander even more horny and desperate. He widened his legs and shifted a little to get comfortable as he watched Spike walk over to their luggage and pull out lube. Funny how a blue and white tube could send waves of lust through his body now. Xander breathed heavily as he watched Spike drop his own clothing to the floor revealing defined and chiseled muscles that Xander loved to watch.
Xander also loved to watch as Spike fisted his own cock, rubbing the organ far more aggressively than Xander ever did. Xander liked to feel the foreskin and explore the shapes lovingly, but Spike just grabbed it and started pulling enthusiastically, throwing his head back and growling his own pleasure as Xander's fingers twitched with a need to touch for himself.
"Bloody hell, the sight of you laid out like a buffet is enough to make me come," Spike growled happily. Xander could only lay there with his legs open and his fingers curling in a mute imitation of Spike's hand which continued to pull at Spike's cock. "Could come all over you and leave you hard and aching. Could do it and you'd still want me the next day, wouldn't ya?" Xander couldn't even nod easily with his head sunk into the soft mattress, so he just blinked back complaisantly and hoped that Spike saw the truth.
"Never want a thing from me but to make me happy. And when you get some happiness, you just count that as bonus." Spike continued masturbating, and Xander squirmed a little at the thought that he might not get any, but Spike had given him enough that if this were some new kink showing up, Xander would certainly survive.
"Funny thing, Angelus and Darla and even Dru wanted somethin' from me. Thought I could keep 'em by givin' them everything. Tried to do the same for Buffy, giving her everything including my own self-esteem. Tried to stop bein' a vamp for the lady. But it never bloody worked because they didn't want me, and trying to be what I wasn't... well can't keep it up forever. I reckon a century is about as long as I can pretend to be what I'm not. But you... you take me however I am and never want back." Xander lay on the bed and wondered what had happened to make Spike pull up memories of his old lovers, but Xander couldn't ask, so he just wiggled his butt a little in invitation. Spike noticed.
"So, what if I just move that strap a little to the side and drive in without lettin' you loose?" Spike opened the lube and spread it on one finger before doing exactly what he'd threatened. He drove two fingers into Xander deep enough to find the prostate and press into the sensitive gland. Xander humped the bed, helpless in his lust as his cock struggled to come erect in the confines of the tiny pouch. Spike pulled his fingers out. "What about it pet? Invite still open for that?" Xander pulled his lips back and breathed through his mouth as he gave another wiggle.
As painful as it had been to have his cock denied the ability to harden, it was also pleasurable in some perverse fashion. It was like when he had been a teen laying in bed masturbating with his parents downstairs. Sometimes they would come to bed earlier than he expected, and he would be caught with a handful of hard aching cock as they settled in on the other side of a paper thin wall. He would lie in bed, and part of his brain told him to go turn the water on the bathroom and finish, and part of his brain told him to just stop and let himself back off that edge. Instead he would continue to slowly thumb the slit of his cock, feeling the need grow ever larger without being able to actually satisfy the lust.
The lust and pleasure and pain had combined to a point where his cock was the only thing that existed. He didn't think about failing his best friend and watching him turn to dust. He didn't think about what kind of a man he was who would follow anyone who offered him a kind word. He didn't even think about his favorite dirty fantasy where the evil Faith came back and admitted that she wanted Xander and would just take him and drag him off to a world where he had to please her or face punishment.
Nope, on those nights when his parents interrupted his nightly appointment with the sock puppet of love he had lost himself entirely.
"You smell like you like the idea, pet." Spike's body was suddenly resting on his back, pinning him down, and Xander wiggled enthusiastically this time. He felt fingers pull at the leather strap between his legs, and without any further prep, Spike started pressing in slowly. Xander arched his back and moaned in pleasure as his minimally prepared body stretched deliciously. He always loved it when Spike spent a little less time preparing him so that he could feel every centimeter of his Master's cock forcing him open.
He collapsed back on to the bed in a haze of lust and need and want as the pleasure of having his entrance stretched balanced against the pain of his cock's battle with the pouch. Xander bucked up so hard that he lifted Spike with him before falling back to the bed and thrashing. However strong arms wrapped around him and held him as he threw his head from side to side in blinding, overwhelming need.
Xander surrendered to the white space that had existed for him on those nights when his parents had interrupted him. His whole body had been reduced to the cock driving into him slowly and the cock imprisoned in that pouch. Xander felt Spike's balls press up into him, his Master's hair tickling his sensitive skin, and he whined for more.
Spike started slow, rocking in and out no more than and inch, and Xander struggled to throw himself back onto his Master's cock and impale himself brutally, but the hands that had held him through so many nightmares now returned and held him still.
"Shh, pet. Goin' to do this right, and that means you just lay there and find your happy place. You aren't in control of this." Xander fought back against those hands for a second and then he sagged back onto the bed, clearly unable to win against vamp strength, even if he hadn't been tied up and gagged.
Spike returned to the slow, torturous thrusts, and Xander could only surrender to the feeling, the white pleasure of sensation erasing the rest of the world as Spike took what he wanted however he wanted. As Spike's thrusts grew longer and started hitting the prostate, Xander trembled with need.
If he could have, he would have begged for release, just like given the choice, he would have come and not drawn out his evening masturbation session as a teen. Without choice, he could only let himself float and tremble and lose all touch with reality as his Master now slammed in enthusiastically.
Finally Spike buried himself balls-deep and started coming. Xander humped the bed, helpless to come or to resist the urge to try. Eventually, he felt Spike softening, and he let his body relax underneath his Master's weight. As Spike finished, Xander felt the tremors of pleasure that he normally felt after an orgasm, but his cock still ached with denied need. Funny enough, the tremors were actually stronger than what Xander normally felt after an orgasm. Either that or he normally didn't pay much attention to the aftershocks. Now that he knew they were all he was getting, he concentrated on the way these small vibrations of pleasure ran the length of his backbone.
"Beautiful, pet." Xander smiled crookedly despite the bit in his mouth as Spike gently traced the edge of his lip with a fingertip. "Feels nice, don't it?" Closing his eyes, Xander let his body answer as he squeezed his ass muscles around his Master's cock. He didn't want to move; he didn't want Spike to move. If possible, he didn't want the rest of the world to move.
Spike rolled off him, and strong arms moved him up the bed so that he rested on his side with his head on a pillow. Xander didn't even realize he had gotten chilly until Spike pulled a blanket over him.
"Be right back, not sleepin' in a bloody wet spot even for you, pet," Spike said as he slipped out of bed. He soon returned and slipped a towel under Xander's hips and crawled in bed behind him. "Go ta sleep, pet. It's still an hour or so before council, and I'll wake ya up."
Xander rolled a little get closer to Spike since he didn't have much energy to do more, but Spike obviously got the message because he pushed up until their two bodies pressed together and Spike's arm tightened around his waist. Xander closed his eyes and let himself drift completely away even as Spike started tracing designs on his stomach.
Part Fourteen
Xander followed Spike into the near-empty area at the back of the main competition hall where a long, low desk separated four demons of various sizes, shapes, and colors. The room was the same as before, but Xander felt like a kid getting called to the principal's office this time. Must be the desk. Xander saw the other slave already in place at his master's feet wearing the cuffs and muzzle, but also hobbles and a rather short leash.
Even without a leash, Xander followed closely on Spike's heels, lowering himself as gracefully as possible at Spike's side. Spike had explained that he would give Xander back his decorations just as soon as the council's cuffs were off his wrists, but Xander couldn't help feeling naked without them. And really, that was ironic since the pouch he wore around his genitals was a whole lot more than he normally wore around demons. And just think, in gym class he used to hide behind towels because he didn't want people catching a peek at Xander Jr. Now he was all embarrassment-proof in the peek department.
"Master Spike," one of the four demons nodded toward Spike. "All parties are present. The council has found that slave G-493 has instigated a third fight. He is banned from competing and will have his official breeding records altered to reflect his violent temper. $500 fine." Xander didn't think the punishment sounded particularly harsh, but G-493 obviously did, because his frame started trembling slightly, and his trainer jerked up on the leash sharply.
"The council finds that slave Xander did not instigate but did respond violently when provoked. His violence was limited to the attacking male. He will be kept on a leash or muzzled for the remainder of the competition. $200 fine." A putty-faced demon stepped up and reached down to unlock the wrist cuffs, ignoring Spike's rather terrifying growl as he did so.
"Master Spike," the council's spokesdemon warned coldly. The growl went down in volume without actually disappearing. "The muzzle stays until the beast is leashed."
"Oi, got a leash here," Spike said as he pulled out a black chain. Under his voice he added, "ya wankers," and Xander kept his head down as Spike attached the leash in front and the draping chains in back. Then the other demon reached over and unlocked the muzzle. Xander had to squash his urge to pop his jaw as Spike decorated his body. His Master skipped the ritualistic repeating of why Xander had earned the decoration, but the feel of the cold gems resting against his backbone gave him the strength to lean into Spike’s leg in silent supplication.
"Yeah, pet?" Spike finally asked.
"I'm sorry, Master," he offered sincerely.
"Yeah, next time either run or take the prick's front teeth out with that kick," Spike said loud enough for the few demons standing nearby to hear. Several of the demons gasped.
"Yes, Master," Xander agreed quietly.
One of the demons behind the desk made a clicking noise, but Spike spun on his heel and stormed out so fast that Xander had to hurry to catch up before the leash could go taut. He really sometimes had trouble swinging his hip chains in rhythm when his master insisted on storming around like a raging bull.
Spike didn't stop until he reached the far side of the competition area. He stopped in a small alcove that had a bench, but he ignored the bench, choosing to lean against the wall. Xander could tell that Spike was somewhere between furious and homicidal.
"Master?" Xander breathed softly as he went to his knees at his Master's feet. A hand dropped down to play with his curls, and Xander simply waited. He knew Spike's body language well enough to read the uncertainty and stress in his Master's body.
"Maybe we oughta just cut out of here, pet," Spike said softly. Xander could feel his entire body stiffen at the thought of walking away from his child. He knew he ought to feel more guilty about abandoning the woman he had raped, but it was the thought of the child in her stomach that really made the panic rise. However, Spike hadn't asked a question, so Xander simply knelt there and tried to avoid doing anything Droopish like hyperventilating and passing out.
"These gits take a lot more interest in other people's slaves that I'm comfortable having them take." Spike's hand continued to caress his hair, but Xander heard what his Master wasn't saying. He was his Master's property, and Spike would protect him. But Xander was a whole lot more interested in protecting someone else. A couple of someone elses. However, his guilt and his morals and his imminent hyperventilation wouldn't count if Spike decided to walk out the door.
"Gettin' an uneasy feeling here," Spike added. And again with Spike's annoying habit of not asking a question. Xander leaned into Spike's leg in a silent request, but Spike just ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it. Xander chose to believe that Spike was distracted and slightly stupid rather than believe Spike would deny him the right to voice his comments. "The other shows, they hated me right up front. These wankers smile at ya to your face and then make disgusted little noises when they think ya aren't looking."
"Master?" Xander tried again quietly.
"I know what you're goin' to say, pet. Ya want to stay until we can take a shot at buying the girl."
Xander risked a quick glance up before dropping his gaze back to the floor. Okay, he could rule out Spike being slightly stupid. The hand continued to caress his curls, and Xander relaxed into that feeling. Not really much else he could do with Spike not giving him permission to talk.
"If we go back there now, the wanker'll know we're desperate to get the bint. And other people might take too much notice." Spike sighed and took a step toward the bench before dropping down. Xander knee-walked the distance and went into a Down kneel, his head resting Spike's knee. Considering how bad he was at making decisions, he was kinda glad to leave this one up to his Master. Spike's hand found his hair again, and Xander really did think the vamp had a hair fetish... not that he minded. Anya and Faith had both wanted cuddling about as much as they wanted a root canal, and Xander had always wanted someone who would touch him outside of orgasms.
Spike sighed heavily again. "Ya want ta stay, don't you?"
"Yes, Master," Xander answered immediately.
"Right. Got one day ta get through and then tonight we go and make a deal for the girl. And I swear by all that's unholy that you're never getting within a mile of slavers again." Spike's hand tightened into a fist at the back of his head, pulling his hair with a firm grip until Xander was looking up into the yellow-eyed face of a demon. Xander smiled slowly. "Not goin' to lose you, not even ta see some little rug-rat with those eyes of yours," Spike said as he cupped Xander's cheek with his free hand.
"So, best bet is to stay in public where there's less chance of anythin' happening. I figure there's nothin' in the room that we can't live without, so we wait until the meeting time, buy the girl and then head for the hills."
"Thank you, Master," Xander whispered, as relief threatened to bring tears to his eyes. He would have walked out without the girl because he would always follow Spike, but he knew he would have hated himself for the rest of his life, too. And he really did have a bit too much already going on with the self-doubt and guilt scale already.
Spike released his hair, and Xander kept looking up as he rested his cheek against the Spike's knee.
"We'll get through this, pet. I'm probably just bein' paranoid after that rot with Lirowaus." Xander could see Spike's eyes scanning the crowd behind him, and he just waited. "Right, no reason we can't go see some of the sights and get some dinner," Spike suddenly announced as he straightened up. "Come on, then." Spike stood and started toward the crowd. Xander hurried to follow before the leash could tighten.
Xander focused on watching Spike's legs as they hurried past competition rings. Yeah, the last competition had ended slightly not so good, but Xander had really loved the feeling of kicking the big guy's ass. Oh yeah. No more Xander the Zeppo for him.
Spike stopped only once, and then only long enough to pick up some blood and food before he found a table against the wall. Spike had thrust the tray with human food at him, and Xander carried it to the table, setting it down before his master before he went to his knees. Feeding himself was all well and good in Joyce's house, but it wasn't going to go over well at a slave show. Besides, if he was perfectly honest with himself, he really didn't mind eating from Spike's hand.
Xander settled his butt down onto his heels as he went into the comfortable Down kneel at Spike's feet. Around him he could see several other human slaves eating from the floor, but Spike's hand appeared in front of him with a chunk of what appeared to be some sort of brownish bread. Tucking his hands into the small of his back, Xander reached forward and took the treat before sucking at the fingers that it offered it.
When Leshar had first made him do this, he'd been humiliated. Now, especially since he didn't *have* to do this, he enjoyed it. He enjoyed the small little sighs that came from Spike as he slowly worked his lips around those slender fingers. Spike pulled his hand back with a groan, and Xander smiled as he chewed his food. He wondered whether, if he looked up, he would see an aggravated _expression or an amused one. It didn't really matter. His master needed a distraction, and Xander was more than happy to provide one.
A second chunk of bread appeared, and Xander took all three digits into his mouth. Using his tongue to pull the bread from between Spike's forefinger and thumb, Xander concentrated on sucking and nipping at the hand that fed him.
"Bloody hell," Spike whispered above. Xander smiled and then leaned so that his shoulder rested against Spike's knee. "Not that I don't appreciate the effort, pet, but we're not going to get caught alone in the room, and this isn't the kind of place that would approve of you showing your skills in public," Spike pointed out from above.
Xander looked around the room in surprise as he realized the Spike was right. He'd seen humans decorated and punished, leashed and sold, petted and put into competitions. However, he hadn't yet seen one fucked. Xander risked a quick look up at his master.
"What? You hadn't noticed?" Spike rolled his eyes and closed his hand into a fist before giving Xander a half-noogie. Xander ducked his head in embarrassment. He really hadn't noticed.
"I expect that's one reason why some of these demons are a mite bit peevish. The way you smell, it's hard to miss the fact that I enjoy my slave," Spike pointed out. "So, much as I appreciate you trying to amuse me, let's save that till we get home."
"Yes, Master," Xander agreed sheepishly. Now he felt guilty about getting Spike worked up without being able to follow through. Well, unless he could talk Spike into going back to the room. Or bathrooms. Demon shows had bathrooms. And oh god, he was going to hell for even thinking that. Food appeared in front of him, and Xander took it without worshipping the fingers that delivered it.
With dinner done, Xander followed Spike, who seemed to randomly wander the competition floor. Now that he was paying attention, Xander could see that these people really didn't have the same view of slaves. The various competitions on the West Coast that Xander would have classified as sexual torture were all missing. No blow job competitions, no seeing how large of a penetration a slave could take, no advertisements for storefronts where you could do whatever you wanted to do to a human body.
Considering how much of Leshar's training had been focused on teaching his slaves to be good little sex toys, Xander wondered how well the trainer was getting along in this new circle of demons. However, Xander also noticed that other things had not changed. There were no old slaves, and Xander had a pretty good idea what happened to humans that were too old to be prettily paraded around like overgrown poodles.
And as much as Xander had been completely and totally nauseated at the thought of his son or daughter being stuck in a place like Leshar's club, somehow the idea of them being stuck here was even worse. At least in Leshar's club the humans knew they were being abused… at least they had some humanity left, even if the only part of their humanity they still carried was the shame that showed in their eyes when no one was looking. But here, most of the humans had this creepy contentment that made Xander angry not just at the slavers but at the slaves.
And yeah, he did see the irony of that, given the fact that he was happily and willingly following behind his master twirling his hip chains and tinkling with bells on his ankle as he followed Spike from one part of the competition floor to another. He still couldn't help feeling a little sorry for these people who had become content in their roles.
Up ahead, he spotted a familiar game being played behind Plexiglas walls. A quick little fantasy trotted through his mind as he hesitated at the sight. Realizing that the slack in the leash was disappearing, he hurried to catch up just as the leash pulled at his neck.
"Pet?" Spike asked as he stopped. Xander went to his knees, and Spike sighed. "Something wrong?" Spike asked as he looked around.
"No, Master," Xander assured him. He was actually embarrassed having been caught daydreaming at the end of the leash, not that he needed to apologize for daydreaming, because he had a right to daydream. Maybe he just shouldn't be daydreaming in the middle of a rescue attempt. Xander took a quick glance up, and Spike was looking at him with a confused _expression
"Out with it, then," he ordered. Xander ducked his head even lower in embarrassment. This is why he had always sat in the back of the classroom… fewer opportunities to embarrass himself.
"I was just um... daydreaming, Master," Xander finally admitted.
"And what exactly were you daydreaming about?" Xander recognized Spike's amused voice, as he glanced over at the competition ring he had just been watching. It was stupid. Not that he hadn't done stupid before, and not that Spike hadn't *seen* him do stupid before, and hey, Spike did some stupid himself. Still, getting caught being stupid in the middle of the big 'rescue the child' plan seemed even more stupid than his normal stupid. But Spike had asked him a question, so he took a deep breath to answer.
"The game, it looks like one-on-one basketball," Xander said as he tilted his head toward the competition arena where two slaves chased after a small ball. As far as Xander could tell, they weren't allowed to take a step with the ball in hand. So as soon as one grabbed the ball, he would fling the ball at a clear wall, bouncing it off the wall before diving to try and regain it. Then when he was close to one end, he would throw the ball at a small hole in the wall. Xander waited as Spike looked toward the arena.
"Yeah, I suppose it does, pet." Spike didn't say any more, but Xander knew his master wouldn't leave it at that.
"I was just thinking that I could beat them. As much time as you make me practice throwing knives, throwing a ball seems pretty easy," Xander finished, well aware of how lame he sounded.
"You want to compete?" And now Spike sounded confused. Xander tried to arrange his words so that he didn't end up babbling, but this was a topic close to his babble button.
"It's just that I was always picked last, Master," Xander said softly as he picked through his feelings. "And now I know I wouldn't be the worst player." Xander shrugged slightly to show that he understood how pathetic *that* sounded. The chains on his back shifted, reminding him that he had made an inappropriate movement for a slave who should always control his body.
"Not last anymore, pet," Spike promised as he ran strong fingers through Xander's hair. "I suppose that means we have ta go find ya a muzzle so you can compete."
Xander would have protested, he really would have. He would have pointed out that kicking some serious slave butt on the court couldn’t erase those old memories, except Spike was already storming toward the end of the enormous room where the vendors displayed slave gear, and Xander was too busy concentrating on swinging his chains at a near run to argue about anything.
By the time Xander's wait in line was over and he was ready to go in the Plexiglas ring, he was almost sorry he had said anything. The muzzle was the finest quality microfiber guaranteed to allow his skin to breath without chafing, but it was still a muzzle, and Xander had to focus on not reaching up and scratching under the straps around his face. However, when a trainer came and unhooked his harness from the waiting pole, Xander focused on the slave in front of him.
The woman was slightly older, a few gray hairs at her temples, and her legs were firm with muscle. The trainers quickly covered the rules, and then Xander went to stand near the hole in the wall where his goal was located. The ball would randomly fall from one of the two goal holes every time play stopped either because of a foul or a goal. Unfortunately, this time it came out the woman's side, and Xander dashed the length of the court, his bare feet slapping the cold and slightly squishy gym-mat type flooring as he raced to recover the ball.
Three goals won the match, and after what seemed like hours of playing, Xander and the woman were tied, even if Xander did still think her second goal was a foul and he was going to have a bruise on his hip to prove it. The Plexiglas walls allowed Xander to see dozens of cheering demons, but he didn't have time to look for Spike as he leapt up and grabbed the ball the woman had thrown hard enough to make the plexi shiver. He fell onto his back still clutching the ball, and a buzzer sounded.
Cursing his own clumsiness, and the muzzle that kept him from getting quite as much air as he would like, Xander got up and dropped the ball into a goal hole before going back to his own side to wait for the drop. A demon tossed the ball into a chute high in the air, and it came rattling down. Xander tensed as the rattling sound moved toward his side of the court. When the small black ball bounced out his opening, Xander grabbed it and flung it hard at the right side as he raced toward the other side of the court. The woman ran to intercept the ball, but Xander had used a sharp enough angle that he reached the ball before her.
Grabbing the ball, he threw it again behind the woman so that they now ran for her end of the court. She grabbed the ball first and went to throw it, but it hadn't even hit a wall before Xander caught it. Enough was enough. He took aim at the small hole in the wall, and then feigned a throw to the left. The woman dashed to recover the ball, leaving her goal open, and Xander threw with every bit of precision Spike had ever taught him. The ball hit the center of the hole and dropped while the woman was still trying to figure out where the ball had gone.
A chorus of approving yells met the final goal, and Xander blushed as he dropped to his knees. The woman turned and nodded a head toward him before going to her knees as well, although a little more slowly. The trainers came in and attached leashes before leading them out to where their owners could collect them.
"Best game of the day," the heavy, scaled demon who held his leash told Xander, and Xander had to restrain a need to do a Scooby dance as the demon locked his leash to the wait pole. Since Spike wasn't in sight, Xander sunk into a Down kneel and waited for his Master to pick him up. Maybe he could even make the bathroom suggestion since his win had left him about as worked up as a fight normally did.
The adrenaline of the game slowly wore off, only to be replaced with something darker. If Xander were honest with himself, it felt something like absolute cold terror, but he was going to call it concern. Yep. Just concern. Concern enough to make his stomach clench and his skin turn cold. Xander listened to the sound of one match after another ending as slaves joined him on the wait pole, only to have their masters pick them up while he still waited. And waited and waited.
The crowds had started to thin out, and Xander could feel the edge of weariness in his own bones that suggested the sun was coming up and it was time for all good little demons to go to bed. Right. Something had definitely happened. Xander checked both sides of the aisle before reaching up to his collar. The leash might be locked to the wait pole, but it was only clipped to Xander's collar. The biggest problem was getting past all the demons who would certainly notice him walking without an escort.
Xander watched as a hulking purple demon slimed by. The thing slid forward, not looking to either side, and Xander reached up to unclip his leash. He could follow the purple demon with downcast eyes and as long as it came close to an exit, he'd make a break for it. A little part of his brain pointed out that it was winter and he was going to die of hypothermia before getting anywhere, but he had a lot of practice ignoring his brain. He just had to get part one of the plan in motion and then he'd worry about part two.
"Here he is," a heavy hand dropped onto his shoulder, and Xander froze, his hand still close to his collar and oh boy was that bad.
"Bad form," a second voice rasped, and Xander dropped his hands to his thighs.
"Muzzle must itch. It's been a good animal all day. Shame his master left him."
"Vampires. Who ever heard of a vampire keeping a trained slave like this. The animal would be better off if his master never came to claim him," the raspy one announced as a clicking sound told Xander his leash had been unclipped from the pole. Xander kept his eyes down as he battled the panic that rolled through him. Spike wouldn't abandon him… he just wouldn't.
A small tug on his leash brought him to his feet as he wondered what would stop Spike from coming to get him. As the demon with his leash started across the half-empty rooms filled with vacant competition rings, Xander tried really hard not to think about the dust that lightly covered the concrete floor.
Part Fifteen
"Up and at 'em, boy," a cheerful voice called.
Xander stretched and pulled his knees up in front of him as the handler hit the chain-link fence with a heavy fist, making the entire length of it rattle. When the handler opened the gate to his small cell, Xander expected the food to be left on the floor and his muzzle to be loosened. He'd come to expect a routine in the last couple of days. That routine was about all that was holding him together now as he sat in the cold cell holding a single blanket around his frame as he sat on a blue mat that might have once been part of some high school gym equipment. It smelled like it.
That first day he had expected Spike to come flowing through the door at any moment, cursing and threatening with every breath. Xander had fantasies about following Spike back to the room only to smack his worthless master upside the back of his head for scaring twenty years of life out of him. But despite the fact that these demons clearly knew he belonged to Spike, Spike hadn't come yet. They even complained about Spike not coming yet, making it clear that they considered having to take care of stray humans an annoyance.
Two other humans had ended up in a small room behind the council chambers, but they had been collected as soon as their master had sobered up enough to claim them. Only Xander remained. Locked in a chain-link cage, he sat in the dark fighting his nightmares and feeling cold terror sink into his bones, and no one was there to hold him or brush his hair out of his sweating face when he awoke screaming.
Xander found himself wildly veering between utter terror that Spike was dead and an equally strong fear that Spike had found something more interesting than him. In some of his nightmares, Dru showed up during that game that he had won, and Spike walked away following his Dark Princess. Xander hated that nightmare the most -- the feeling of the warm Plexiglas shaking as he pounded on it begging and screaming for his Master to come back for him. But Spike hadn't even turned as he walked away, disappearing into the crowd as Xander heard Drusilla's insane laughter.
When he was awake Xander knew that Spike wouldn't do that. When he was awake, his greatest fear was that Spike had abandoned him in a far more permanent way… a dusty type way. And he didn't feel guilty about that at all. Nope. Just because his stupid daydreaming about his stupid high school geekiness got Spike… okay, he wasn't even going to finish that thought because that thought was going to lead to guilt, and he didn't feel that… much. Only enough to make him want to rip his own guts out, that's all.
Either way, whether Spike was dead or alive, whether Spike had abandoned him or been torn from him, it didn't matter. He was alone. He couldn't help remembering how he had felt when Leshar had first taken him. He'd been so sure that Buffy would find him. He'd been so confident that they would never give up; they would never leave him to the demons. But they had never come for him. When the cages were quiet and Xander was alone in the dark he found himself crying tears of loss and fear and even rage. Rage that she hadn't loved him enough to look for him. Rage that Spike might never find him because Spike's ability to form a plan, which had never been high in Xander's book, had fallen to all time lows here.
And now Xander sat and watched as the lumbering demon came near him, waiting for food to be left in the muzzle to be loosened. But instead, the demon locked a leash to the front of Xander's collar and gave a sharp pull that forced Xander to his feet.
"Time for you to earn your keep," the demon announced as he started out of the room of cages. Xander closed his eyes and focused on breathing steadily as the meaning of those words sunk into him. He just had to accept it. He wasn't strong enough to fight all of them. He knew he just had to accept it. But God--accepting was so hard now. Xander fought his body, forcing it to follow behind the demon who held his leash as they walked through the council chambers into a post set in the ground.
The demon locked the free end of the leash onto the end of the post, and Xander sank to his knees on a small square of padding next to it. His eyes burned, and he struggled to not cry as the demon walked away. And really, how pathetic was he that he would rather have his demon keeper next to him?
Xander waited in a Down kneel with his hand resting on his thighs as he tried to figure out how he was supposed to earn his keep chained to a post. Oh, there were lots of things he could do chained to a post, but most of them involved things that Leshar had taught him to do, and he hadn't thought these demons were into the cross species kink. Xander was so distracted he didn't even hear anyone come up behind him. He didn't know anyone was behind him at all until he felt a sharp tap on his butt.
Instantly he flowed up into formal position: his hands behind his back, his knees spread, his back straight, and his butt up off his heels. A firm touch ran down his back into the inside of his left thigh, curling around his thigh so that Xander could now see the end of a tail wrapped around his leg. And really... when tails and started looking familiar he had to wonder if he'd been spending too much time with demons. Xander peeked out of the corner of his eye and saw the big football looking dude properly kneeling nearby. Oh yeah, this was bad. If Spike were within 5 miles, Calsha would never have the nerve to do this.
A hand rested on his shoulder and then trailed down to a nipple before Calsha knelt next to him.
"Where's your Master, little one?" Calsha whispered in his ear. Xander couldn't answer with the muzzle on, so he limited himself to a rather unpleasant glare.
"You are a treat," she said as she ruffled his hair, and Xander nearly broke position to push her away as anger rose like a wave. "I can't seem to find him right now, but I will do my best to purchase you in the auction. I have rather limited resources, but I expect Spike or his sire would reimburse me and reward me rather handsomely."
Xander heard Calsha's words through a sort of haze. Auction. And oh yeah, the Harris luck has struck again. Xander fought against an urge to shake in fear and an equal urge to punch Calsha right in her smiling mouth. Great. She thought buying him was helping. He would prefer the kind of help that came with explosions and magical search parties and someone finding his master, and oh god please don't let finding him mean finding the dust that used to be him.
"Be good," Calsha offered with a final stroke down his cheek, and Xander didn't miss how her slave shifted uncomfortably at the touch. Then Calsha left, her slave following without a leash, while Xander was left chained to the post.
Then Xander got it. Earning his keep. He was out here on display for the auction later. Xander looked up at the demons around him despite the fact that it was against every rule Leshar had ever taught him. And why was he not surprised to find Leshar right in front of him, smiling with an expression Xander had learned to dread.
Xander lost control then, shaking as he realized what was about to happen to him. Suddenly Xander couldn't get enough air. He felt his nose flare out as he struggled to gasp, but he just couldn't breathe. Forgetting form, he reached out for the post, pushing himself to his feet with one hand while he pulled at the muzzle with the other. He could see the demons around him turning to stare as he stumbled backwards to the end of the leash.
"You'll fucking use your mouth as I order you to or you'll find yourself without one," Leshar had sworn at him that day, the caged humans around him watching silently. Xander remembered his skin burning from the lash marks as two of Leshar's demons had held him down so Leshar could force the muzzle over his face. Xander had sworn back, yelling about the slayer, but a sharp burst of agony across the bottom of his foot made him gasp, and then his mouth was full, not of the demon cock Leshar had been trying to get him to service, but of something colder, something rancid. Xander started dry heaving, but it had been so long since he had eaten that nothing came up as a plastic piece fit over his mouth and kept him from spitting out the rotten bit in his mouth.
"So think on that," Leshar has hissed as he pulled on Xander's leash. With his hands bound behind his back, Xander fell awkwardly forward onto his knees. The leash kept pulling and Xander put out his foot to stand only to collapse back to the floor as his foot blossomed in pain. Xander hadn't remembered much more after that except the taste in his mouth and the constant pain... the pain as the collar bit into his neck. The pain of the muzzle strapped on too tightly. The pain of the whip marks decorating his back. He'd prayed for a death that never came. He still prayed as the darkness descended.
"Just a bit of hyperventilation," a high pitched voice said, and Xander struggled back to awareness as he felt a warm hand running up and down his leg. "Heart rate is elevated. This will calm him down though." Xander felt a pinprick of something at his thigh, and then the world started graying around the edges, and why they had woken him only to put him back under? Didn't really make sense to him.
"He unhealthy?" A lower voice asked, and Xander just hoped that the doctor said yes. If the doctor said yes, it would be over quickly. And hey, the doctor was not into hurting humans, so might even be over without any more pain. Xander's brain turned on itself at the very thought. Part of him wanted to hold on for long as it took for Spike to find him. Another part of him viciously attacked that kind of hope as foolish. After all, he'd waited for Buffy and it hadn't mattered. If they sold him, if he disappeared into the slavers' world again, he wasn't strong enough to hold out.
"Not at all. He's in an exceptionally good health. However, you and I both know that some of the slime from the West Coast has sleazed its way into here. If one of those west coasters threatened him..." the doctor didn't finish her whispered words, but she continued her caressing of Xander's leg. Between the drugs in the gentle touch, Xander found himself sinking into a half sleep where he heard things only at a distance. Man, he had no idea what they had given him, but to hell with selling slaves... they could make a fortune selling this stuff on the street.
"It's hardly fair to blame an animal for his owner's sins."
"Since when do you expect those assholes to be fair? I suspect this was a plain old panic attack, and I can hardly blame the poor thing considering he was owned by a master who considered him a food source. I can't believe they sold such a sweet-tempered boy to a vampire."
"He was charged with fighting."
"I saw the fight. He tried to get away, and he stopped the minute the trainers came in the ring. Most males aren't able to stop once they start swinging. Besides, everyone knows how the vampire ordered him to fight. It wasn't even put on his breeding record."
"True."
"Hopefully he'll get a better owner this time," the high-pitched voice said as a warm hand reached up and pushed the hair from his eyes. Xander blinked as he lay on the ground and tried to focus.
"I think you gave him too much," the second demon offered, and now Xander could see a humanish looking bald guy with long straight horns coming from his head. He blinked again and tried to figure out why the horns kept turning color. Then again, the whole world seemed to be turning a few colors.
"Maybe," the woman admitted, and now Xander turned to see a bluish woman with a wide nose and crinkly forehead, and blue really was the in color for demons, only the guy demon with the horns wasn't blue, he was more human colored. Xander opened his mouth to point that out, but his mouth didn't actually open. He blinked rapidly as he tried to figure that one out.
"Probably," the woman amended herself, and then she reached down and removed the muzzle.
"Pretty blue demon lady," Xander giggled. The demon looked down at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Definitely," she amended herself again, and Xander tried to roll over onto his stomach. Unfortunately his arms didn't seem to work right.
"Not rolling right. Rollin', rollin', rollin', keep them somethin' rollin' along," Xander half whispered and half sang as he struggled to get up.
"Up you go," a deep voice offered and then Xander found himself sitting with his back to the post as strong hands lifted him. The woman was back, her hands holding either side of his face.
"Hey, my arms are gone. That never happened before," Xander pointed out, and he knew he should be upset about that, but he really couldn't be because he was upset about something else, only he couldn't figure out what the something else was.
"What's his name?" the blue lady asked the other demon.
"Don't call me Droopy 'cause that's who I used to be, but everyone called me Xander back then even though I was Droopy 'cause I'm Xander now and not then… except Cordelia. She called me a Zeppo," Xander said indignantly.
"I'm sure that was very unkind of her," the lady offered as she bent in close to Xander's face while still holding it still with her hands.
"Did you know my arms were gone? I should go look for them," Xander pointed out as he went to lean forward, but the lady demon held him in place.
"Xander, your arms are behind you." The woman looked over at the other demon. "Let's get the restraints off. I think it's safe to say he's not reacting violently."
"Violence. Spike likes violence," Xander muttered as the other demon knelt down next to him and reached behind him. "Hey! He found my arms." Xander said happily as he pulled his arms in front of him and looked at them.
"Spike? Was he here? Did Spike say something that upset you?" the woman asked.
"I should hit Spike. I should hit him really, really hard. I bet I could get Angel to hit him for me because Angel hits a lot harder than I do."
"I'm sure you hit just fine, Xander. Why should you hit Spike?"
"He went and died on me and he promised he wouldn't. He promised I was safe, and now he's gone and he'd be here if he wasn't dust because he doesn't break his promises," Xander felt tears roll down his cheeks as he suddenly remembered what he was supposed to be upset about. He reached out and wrapped his arms around the demon's waist as he lay in her lap and cried.
"Well he's certainly not a fighter," a voice above him commented wryly.
"If I didn't travel so much…" the high-pitched voice of the woman said, and Xander felt strong hands rub his back. "Well, we obviously need to put him somewhere quiet until this wears off.
"I do wonder what this will do to his value, having half the auction see him like this," the man commented.
"Well if someone wants an aggressive stallion, they won't be buying this one," she answered. Xander felt hands pull him up, and he wiped at his eyes as he stood cautiously. When he didn't feel any pain, he pulled up his left foot and examined the bottom of it.
"It's not cut," he announced proudly as he held it up for the woman to see. Unfortunately he unbalanced himself and nearly fell on someone behind him. Actually, he did fall on someone behind him, but the someone was a huge, wide, grey demon with beady eyes and huge hands that reached out to hold him up.
"Steady, boy," a deep and familiar voice said softly.
"Come on, Xander," the blue lady called as she pulled at the leash, and Xander pushed himself away from the large blobby demon as he followed unsteadily. Can't let the leash get tight, he told himself as he focused on the swaying chain connecting him to the lady. "Let's get you to your cage so you can sleep this off some."
"Can't you give him something?" the horned guy asked as he followed.
"Yeah, but then he'll be confused and hyper. That won't help sales. I had no idea that he would react so strongly to the drug. Most of the animals here have been exposed to it dozens of times, but I guess not this one."
"Just say no," Xander managed as he half-followed the conversation.
"Well let's hope he's sober by the auction."
"If not, he's still a sweet little stallion, even drugged up to his gills."
"No gills… didn't stay in the steam room long enough," Xander protested as hands helped him through a gate.
"That's fine. No gills for you," the lady demon promised, and Xander stood in the middle of the cage swaying as he heard the gate close behind him. He waited for something… for someone, but he couldn't figure out who. But someone was missing. Xander turned around and put his hand out to the latch as he tried to pull it up. Xander frowned when it didn't move.
"Xander, where are you going?" the high voice asked, and Xander looked up into the brown eyes of a blue skinned lady.
"Gotta find Spike. He gets lost." Xander blinked as he tried to figure out why the gate wouldn't open.
"Xander, Spike isn't here. He says you should lie down."
"Spike said that?" Xander asked as he tried to focus on the unmoving latch.
"Yes. Spike said to lie down."
"Oh." Xander stopped pulling at the latch as he slowly sank down to the mat. He reached behind him and grabbed his blanket. "If Spike says," he muttered as he closed his eyes.
"Such a sweet stallion," the lady said as she walked away from the already sleeping slave.
Xander was fighting a horrible headache when the handler who first took him out of his cage appeared. His memories might be a little fuzzy, but no amount of repression and drugs could erase the knowledge that he was going to be sold again. Xander had explored every inch of his cage, trying to find some way out, but in the end, he had to admit that he was screwed. In fact, if Leshar bought him, he was screwed in more ways than one.
Since he really didn't have any other options, he knelt as the demon came in and locked a leash onto his collar. Xander squeezed his eyes shut at someone else's leash going on Spike's collar.
A pull at his collar got him up on his feet and he followed, intentionally pushing every thought he had underneath a layer of training. He just had to focus on this walk and keeping his back straight and not swinging his arms and really swinging his hips. He focused on making his pace perfect as he followed the demon across the competition floor to the far side where rings had been torn down to make an open space. He concentrated on keeping his head bowed and breathing slowly so his throbbing head didn't pop open and he might have spared time for a prayer or two that Spike would come riding in on a white horse… or a black horse… or no horse at all worked for him as long as Spike did the saving part.
The demon leading him stopped, but a hand on his arm kept him on his feet as the demon moved another human to make room for Xander. The crowd sounded fairly large, but he didn't dare look up as his leash was locked to a wait pole. Instead he sank to his knees and remained in the formal Position kneel despite the fact that his kneecaps weren't used to it, and it made them ache. Yeah, somehow he thought aching kneecaps might be the least of his problems if his Master didn't show up.
The slave in front of him went for $4,000 and Xander focused on the memory of Spike's hands brushing over his body, of Spike's body pinning him to the damp ground after a fight with some local fledges. He refused to believe Spike would never do that again, so he just needed to focus on that and not the hands now unclipping his leash and leading him into the ring.
"And this is our prize of the auction. A very nice little stallion, a prize winner who managed to defeat Lyew's mare, Dusty, in the ballcourt. A clean breeding record and a clean bill of health from the doctor make this one a real prize." Xander kept his eyes down because really it made it easier to pretend to be in that other auction, the one where he had given up all hope only to have Spike save him.
A sharp tap at his butt, and Xander dropped into a Position kneel. "Not a bit of rebellion here, folks. He's a free range human, but we have a medical review promising that he has had no cosmetic repairs at all. You can bet on getting some very nice coloring out of his pups." Xander bit his tongue at the announcer calling him a stallion and his children pups because hey, mixed metaphor much?
A touch on his head put him into a Down kneel with his butt resting on his heels, and Xander nearly sighed in relief at the chance to get off his kneecaps. "Now since he's being sold to pay his Master's unpaid fines and boarding fees, I can't take less than a thousand, but I don't think that's going to be a problem, is it?" the announcer asked with a laugh. The audience made a variety of noises, some of which seemed to slice right through Xander's drug-induced headache.
"$3,000," a female voice called out, and Xander recognized Calsha. Okay, he could handle Calsha. Her own slave didn't seem to suffer too much. Of course, her own slave just might break Xander's neck what with the whole lusting after the mistress thing he had going.
"3,200," an unfamiliar voice called out.
"$3,500," called another.
"$3,700," yelled a voice that Xander knew entirely too well. That was a voice that had once commanded his every move and inspired every nightmare. Please, please, please just let Harris bad luck skip him just this once. The universe owed him after the whole preying mantis teacher and mummified life eating Halloween date. Hell, the universe really owed him after already spending six months in Leshar's stable.
"$4,000," Calsha quickly countered.
"$5,000," another voice called out.
"$5,500," Calsha yelled.
"$6,000," another demon yelled, but a deeper voice yelled "$7,000" at the same time.
"Let's keep the bids in order, please. I have $7,000 from Dareh, is there a bit for eight?"
"Eight!" Leshar's voice ripped through Xander's defenses until he could feel a thousand memories pushing in at him… things he didn't want to remember… things that made his rage rise up until he trembled with a need to smash the demon's face. But then the auctioneer's hand fell on his shoulder, and Xander reminded himself that demons could smell so many human emotions. Without any effort at all, he flipped that fury over into fear as he considered what Leshar would do to him now. He'd stabbed his former owner, and everyone seemed to know that Spike and Angel had driven the West Coast slavers out of business. He had no doubt Leshar would take that out on his hide.
"Nine," a low voice countered.
"Ten thousand!" Calsha called out.
"Eleven," Leshar yelled back without waiting for the auctioneer. Xander heard a soft "damn" from Calsha's direction and then he didn't hear anything. He trembled as he realized the bidding was beyond her. She wasn't going to buy him and then deliver him to the nearest Aurelius vamp for a quick rescue.
"We have $11,000 from Leshar. Any new offers?"
"$11,500."
"$12,000," Leshar snapped back immediately.
"12,500."
"13,000"
"13,500," the unfamiliar bidder countered. There was a silence after that, and Xander waited for his fate to be sealed. His heart might be healthy and all, but he was fairly sure he was going to have a heart attack.
"$13,500 to Dareh, any more offers?"
"$14,000," Leshar yelled.
"$14,500." A silence fell on the crowd as that deep voice called out his offer. The auctioneer waited.
"We have $14,500 at Dareh. Any more offers? Last warning…" The auctioneer waited, and Xander forgot to breathe as he waited to hear just how much Leshar hated him. With each bid, Xander could hear the fury and frustration, and Xander just knew that if Leshar got him, he was going to pay for every cent in missing skin. However, Leshar didn't call out another offer.
"Dareh's bid wins," the auctioneer called out, and the crowd's silence was broken. Xander had the impression of something heavy moving, and he looked up to see the wide grey demon with beady eyes who he had earlier landed on. Xander ducked his head submissively as he realized just how many rules he had gotten used to breaking. Time to undo the undoing of the rules, he told himself as he held position while Dareh paid for him.
"Come on, boy," the deep voice ordered as Dareh took the leash. Xander rose and followed his new master out of the room. He just couldn't help taking one last look at the crowd as he searched for a bleached blond head.
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