Summary: Imagine a world where vampires are tamed and kept as pets by slayers and other humans alike. Then imagine a young slayer called Buffy Summers who along with her mom goes to buy her very first petvampire. Now who could possibly say no to the blond cutie in the glass box.
Pairing: Buffy/Spike, undertones of Angel/Spike
Warnings: Non-con, brainwashing, dehumanisation, ...
William woke up draped over the back of Buffy’s bed. Sure he had a pallet in the basement, but the times that his mistress had actually made him sleep there could be counted on the fingers of one hand. He got up and noticed that she was still sleeping. Today was Sat-ur-day, so she didn’t need to get out of the bed. Saturday was sleeping in day.
He was still wearing his sleeping pants, he was not allowed to wear them anywhere but in the mistress’ room, and downstairs for breakfast but they felt nice and soft. He sat at the door, listening to the sounds of mom making breakfast. Today was mall day and he’d get to see sire again. Mistress had told him that Angelus was on a list for waiting, because many many people wanted their vampires to be empty. And they didn’t hurry it up, unless it was really urgent.
Mom saw him coming down the stairs and called him to the breakfast table. She gave William his cup of hot cocoa and let him sip it up. He quickly bowed down his head under her stares, wondering what he’d done wrong. He smiled in anticipation when she took his bowl and grabbed his food.
“William, I think we’re going to try something. Considering how well you’ve been doing with the cup.” William stared as instead of putting his food in his bowl, she poured the mixture in a coffee cup. There was a picture on the cup that showed two birds flying around it. He nearly froze when she put it on the table in front of him.
It was like warning sirens started playing up in his head and he couldn’t even bring himself to touch the cup. Keeper said it was wrong, animal, not human. Blood doesn’t go in cups. Bad bad bad William. Wrong, bad, not supposed to do so. He pulled away till he was cringing against the wall. Can’t pretend to be human, only evil vampires do that. Not allowed, not allowed. Mom knelt down next to him, but all he could see was the cup and how wrong it was.
She was trying to calm him down, but he could barely hear her words. He needed to get punished for even thinking. But mom didn't understand.
Now he has to talk to her.
"Bad bad William, bad William..."
He started the chant again that the keepers had said when he did something wrong. Mom seemed quiet. "Please mommy, William bad. Hurt me so William isn't bad no more. Please mommy." The thoughts wouldn't end, his ears were hurting. He was almost going crazy by the time she finally got what he needed. He instantly obeyed. Lying down over her lap as she sat down in the chair, his ass up to her hands. She pulled down the back of his shorts and hit him once. Twice, still not enough to stop the screaming in his head. Only after twenty slaps did the torrent finally calm down and he was able to cry and stop shaking.
"You're a good boy William. A very good boy."
He thought she'd make use of him now, but she merely pulled his pants back up without even further touching him. She was crying. William didn’t mean to make her cry.
"What in gods name did those people do to you?"
William slipped down off her lap and sat on the floor, she poured his blood in his bowl and he slowly licked it up. He just hoped she wouldn't be sad no more. Mom put on a repeat of his favourite tv show and sent him to his chair in the living room, holding a blood snack. She was making pancakes for the mistress and Dawn. William had tried them, but they tasted flat. Even after Dawn had tried to cover them with some of the flat blood. She'd wanted to try and give him one with crumbs of a blood snack, but he doubted it would make much of a difference. He guessed that some of the human foods just weren't right for vampires. A pity because mistress and Dawn seemed to really like them. He had no idea why he suddenly started remembering what pancakes tasted like. Sugary and sweet, but filling, with blueberry sauce, like his mother used to make. He could almost smell them. Dawn came in and had taken one to the living room table, despite mom’s protests. She pulled a bit off of hers and gave it to William. He accepted without thought, disappointed with the lack of a taste. Why could he remember it otherwise?
By the time that Buffy came down, William was busy vacuuming the living room. Still in his shorts. For some reason doing household chores was soothing for the vampire. Mom said it had to be his training. Buffy couldn't help enjoying the look. Watching the muscles in his back, how nicely it looked now that he was filled out a bit more, less thin and frail.
They’d stopped keeping to the rations after the first week. William hadn’t seemed to gain any strength on it, not quite weakening, but always hungry. He looked much healthier now. She followed the flow of his back to where the end of his shorts met his skin. She could see the edges of the burn there. A mark that noted him as a tamed pet of Aurelian descent. The books said that it was made permanent, by burning it in with holy water at least three times within an hour. Anything else would heal too fast. All she could think of was that it must have hurt a lot.
William dropped the vacuum cleaner as soon as he saw her, forgetting to turn it off of course. Which was why you never let a pet do chores, unless you were around to keep an eye on him. He was at her feet in a second and she couldn’t help staring at how beautiful his face was when he smiled. She didn’t care what Xander said, William was happy here. That’s what ought to count right? Can’t be slavery if he wants to be here?
She turned the vacuum cleaner off before mom started complaining about it and took William to the bathroom with her. She pulled off his shorts and had him waiting in a kneel while she filled the bath. He rarely if ever fought about his bath. Most often she just put him under a shower, but with it being Saturday, a real bath was needed.
He sat down in the bath without argument and Buffy gave him his rubber duck before taking her massage sponge. She couldn’t help her fingers lingering down, wondering if all guys were that big down there. As she brushed to clean him, he hardened under her touch. She knew she should just move on, but he sighed oh so happily as she touched him again.
He arched back, his cock thrusting in her hand. She let go, he looked at her like she hurt him. She nearly ran, stopping right outside of the bathroom. Oh god that very nearly, almost.
“You can’t keep this up forever.” Faiths voice told her in her head. “It’s what he’s made for, to fuck and to be fucked.”
Buffy wished she knew why this was so hard for her. Sure she’d had fun with Owen, but that was just kissing and groping. She hadn’t touched his, she hadn’t touched Owen down there. And really, should she be doing this kind of stuff, if she couldn’t even get herself to think of what it was.
She went back into the bathroom, William was still waiting for her in the bath, pouting. He was playing with his duck. “William what’s wrong.”
“You stopped. Felt good, but you stopped.”
Buffy raised her brows. “You liked that?”
Redundant question really.
Buffy took the washing cloth and started cleaning him, he was grumpy even if he tried to hide it, and he was still hard. She probably had to give him an order to get himself off, but she couldn’t even bring herself to say the words. Her hands moved over his body as she rubbed in the soap and ordered him to turn around, face down. Slowly but steadily her fingers moved down till they hit his cheeks. She couldn’t help pinching them. He groaned and pushed his ass towards her hand. The sponge slipped out of her fingers and she slowly moved her hand to the cleft between his cheeks.
She had to clean him, she told herself, unable to stop her curiosity. She gently tried to push in one finger. The muscles clung tightly around her finger, almost sucking it further in. It was odd, exploring him like this. He moaned even as she did so. She tried to push in a second finger, noticing more tension and wondering if she could get in a third. He was shaking. Was that good or bad?
She tried a third, pushing them in as far as she could, feeling the soft walls of flesh. Realizing she was scratching him. She could feel something sticking on her fingers. She hoped it wasn’t what she thought it was. It wasn’t, she screamed as she noticed the blood on her fingers. The scream lasted a lifetime and by the time mom finally got upstairs, the water was already running red with William’s blood. He was still in the same position, he hadn’t moved an inch.