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Broken Revenge 14
Yeah, the muse has been having problems with this one lately. This isn't beta'ed. In fact, I just finished writing it minutes ago, so feel free to point out my mistakes so I can fix them. I just need to push ahead with this story before the muse turns any colder than she is.
Broken Revenge
Rated: ADULT - no actual sex in this chapter but lots of bondage. Lots and lots
Previous parts using tags
Previous parts using memories
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 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 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 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 a 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 that 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.
This 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, if 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 a 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 can 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 a 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 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 'rescued the child' plan seemed even more stupid than his normal stupid. But Spike had asked him question him 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 complete."
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 chaffing, 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 he 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 squichy 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 Scoobie 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 demon 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.
Broken Revenge
Rated: ADULT - no actual sex in this chapter but lots of bondage. Lots and lots
Previous parts using tags
Previous parts using memories
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 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 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 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 a 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 that 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.
This 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, if 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 a 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 can 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 a 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 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 'rescued the child' plan seemed even more stupid than his normal stupid. But Spike had asked him question him 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 complete."
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 chaffing, 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 he 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 squichy 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 Scoobie 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 demon 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.
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