Summary: Being a good host isn’t supposed to mean that you have to let your
guest take advantage, right?
Notes: Non-con, bondage, misuse of toys, evil Wesley
Pairing: Spike/Wesley, Wesley/Angel, Angel/Spike, Spike/Buffy
Thanks to gillo for betaing, anything I got right is because of her, anything wrong is my fault.
The bastard was using his bed, drinking his booze and wearing his slippers. The ones that he kicked under the bed as soon as he was fully awake so that none of Buffy’s little helpers could ever spot them. Other than Dawn, and he was still disgusted that he’d let himself be blackmailed by a fifteen year old. He should never have thought the nibblet how to bargain a deal, anyone smarter than him would have known she’d end up using it against him..
Spike wasn’t sure what he was supposed to find worst, the uncertainty of the dark, or the pain whenever the stranger lit the torches. Spike still didn’t know his captor’s name. He didn’t care; nobody else would either once he was done with the man. Not that even his own mother would still be able to recognize what would be left of him.
Four days, four days of pain, boredom and aching in his wrists as he hung up here. Spike was keeping track of the time, so he could make sure to give back every little thing that had been done to him, with interest. In those four days he’d been chained up, gagged, raped, beaten, cut, burned, stuffed up with his own buttplugs, kept hard till his dick went purple. It still was for that matter. He’d been sliced, diced and, worst of all, his hair had been shaved off and still the bastard hadn’t told him what was supposed to be the reason for this whole deal.
He’d never seen the man before and for some odd reason he couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t about him killing some old friend or relative of his torturer. Something in the casual business manner in which he’d been used for the past four days felt too off, for this to be about revenge against something he’d done. So why was this happening to him?
Spike tried to close his eyes and imagine it was someone else’s hands on his back, someone else cutting letters into his skin and licking off the blood. He wanted to imagine it was Buffy, or Drusilla, but every time he closed his eyes it was one man in particular that came to mind. One person that if asked about it, he’d refuse to admit thinking about.
Then the stranger pulled out the plug currently filling up his ass and he desperately tried to move forward and get away. No matter how useless it all was. Something softer than the harsh plastic was forced in and he could feel himself forced wide open. He’d stopped resisting the intrusion days ago and tried to take it as good as he could. Flesh might be better than plastic, but it was the principle of it all. Someone was giggling and he was surprised to realize it was him. Even if only in his own head.
A hand moved over to his dick, using it as a handhold as every thrust pushed him forward. It was killing him. He could feel the man’s pelvis hitting his ass, bony knees cutting into the side of his legs. And then a relaxing of the pressure and trickling down his tighs when the puissant finally pulled out.
“Was it good for you William?” along with a pat on the ass
Oh yes, that’s what the giggling was about. The sheer gall of the human as he stood there; how he lit one of Spike’s own fags, and didn’t even offer one to the guy that had actually bought them. Well not bought as such, he’d nicked them from the store, but still, the clerks didn’t exactly make petty theft easy, even on vampires.
“So quiet. Guess I should be delighted about that. Your constant cursing really is somewhat intolerable.”
Spike closed his eyes; the bastard slapped his chin and brought him back.
“I guess I have been rather impolite. Even considering how hard you’ve been making this on me, I must still admit that I have been taking advantage of your hospitality, yet I haven’t even offered you my name. It is rather unacceptable.”
The man, the naked man, standing in front of him offered his hand.
“I am Wesley Wyndham Pryce. A pleasure to make your acquaintance William.”
He probably didn’t even realize how silly he looked standing there, hand offered out in greeting, as if he expected Spike to jump out of his chains, accept it and then get back in position. Then Percy came forward and lifted Spike’s face, forcing the vampire to look at him.
“No reason to be impolite William.” He smiled. “I’m afraid I have no choice but to punish you for it. Too bad, but then again, it is your own fault.”
Spike wanted to scream, but Pryce had already grabbed the whip, not again, damn.
Wesley smiled at the look on the vampire’s face. It was a disgusted look. Not fear or terror, just disgust at being taken by a human. It actually made him feel better about what he had to do here. He held the whip and let it come down on Spike’s chest a few times, swiping it across his nipples, over his taut and muscled stomach. Wesley lowered the whips, barely letting its tendrils swipe past Spike’s penis, Spike pulled back his head, Wesley let the handle of the whip slide over Spike’s belly before punching him in the gut.
The vampire was still hard.
Odd creatures those vampires. It seemed like their enjoyment of pain, included not just that of others, but their own as well. Wesley wondered if Angel had been just as hard, all the time he’d spent in hell. Maybe that’s why he locked himself in the dark so often, for the guilt of daring to enjoy his pain. Would Angel hate it if he hung him up in chains, where Spike was now and would he grow as hard as Spike if Wesley let him forget all about his guilt and gave him the punishment he’d been wishing for for over a century?
He considered it and ignored the idea. To do so, would be to give Angel mercy, and Angel didn’t deserve that.
Wesley touched the scar on his neck, reminding himself why he was doing this. He knelt down before Spike and grabbed the vampire’s dick; he slowly removed the cock ring binding it off, keeping a tight enough grip to keep his captive from release. He grabbed a cup and gave the cold flesh one last stroke, and another. The pain building inside of it had to be immense. So was the pressure forced out when he finally let go...
Wesley took a look at the cup filled with the vampires sticky cum and added the Sentali powder to it, then he stood up and removed the vampire’s gag. Before Spike could say something Wesley forced the mixture in between his lips. Spike tried to spit it out, but Wesley held a tight enough grip on his head to keep him from doing so. He made sure to keep the vampire’s mouth closed and rubbed his throat to make him swallow.
He didn’t replace the gag, Spike had earned some kind of reward for now and by the time the both of them woke up, things would be going a lot easier. For him at least.
In response to this request:
RATING: NC-17, please
DETAILS: A bitter Wesley with his throat recently healed (after Angel tried to smother him) seeks out Spike, finds him chipped and worthess for whatever plan he has, but perfectly fine for taking out his frustrations on.
Requested by fanbot on November 14, 2006.
Claimed by liliaeth on November 17, 2006.