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|| Bloodclaim ||
You know they're doin' it
Short Leash 
1st-Mar-2011 05:11 am
bmbl-spike
Title: Short Leash
Author: BmblBee
Paring: Spander
Rating: PG13 (Yeah, I know. I'm shocked too)
Warnings: A bit of bad and suggestive language.
Disclaimer: The Bee owns none of the characters used in this story.
Summary: Spike takes a pet with odd consequences.

Recently, Naughty_Fae did a Spander story based on an e-mail joke I sent her.
This short, one-off is my response. It is a quicky based on another e-mail joke.
I expect her to retaliate.





Thanks to Petxnd for the wonderful banner.


The old, worn wooden door flew open and slammed shut. It was a sound heard a
hundred times a day signaling the constant comings and goings of the demon population in
and out of the only monster bar in Sunnydale. It was a sound akin to the ringing of the
cash register and it warmed Willy's heart and pocket book each time he heard it.

Willy's was a dark room and a comfy atmosphere where demons and creatures of every
size shape and species could drink, dance and spend money to their black little heart's
content. It was a place where no one had to squirm under the discriminatory eye of a
clueless human population that viewed them as freaks or diseased misfits. Humans that
were unaware that these particular freaks could rip out their throats in the blink of an eye.
Which they sometimes did.

But not in Willy's. Violence was not permitted in Willy's. Even when that bitch, the
slayer charged in and tossed about her threats and punches. She believed her actions to
be frightening and intimidating while Willy's clientele simply thought her crass, low-class
and after she left, the term 'trailer trash' was often bantied about. They sneered behind her
back and rolled their eyes when she wasn't looking.

As soon as she was gone, she was forgotten.

"Set 'em up Willy. Give us three mugs of your best A+ and a platter of toad puss."

Willy hustled to fill the order and within seconds placed the slightly warm cups of fresh red
and the small plate of gooey green on the bartop in front of the wrinkled demon.

"Here ya go, Clem. You boys gonna use the back room for your poker game tonight?"

Before he could respond, the question became moot when a small Persian kitten meowed
and tried to escape from the fannypack that was worn low around what Willy assumed
was Clem's waist. With a snot-bubbled snort, Clem stuffed the errant head back in and
he giggled.

"Yep. Tonight's the big one. In fact, Spike is supposed to be here any minute."

Willy's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Spike? He still around these parts? Damn, I ain't seen Spike in weeks. I thought he had
moved on or something. I heard he was messing with one of the slayer's minions then....
nothing. To be honest, I figured she must have kicked his ass and sent him packing."

Never one to shy away from a good gossip story, Clem quickly threw a fleshy leg around
a barstool and he climbed on. He then pushed aside the blood and yummy smelling toad
puss and he gave his full attention to the bartender. When Clem knew a secret, the world
knew the secret.

"No, no Spike's been here in town all along. When he first declared his ownership of the
slayer's boy, all hell broke loose. There was cussin' and screamin' and the slayer even tried
to beat the crap outta Spike but the boy, he wasn't havin' it. He said he wanted to belong to
a vamp. Well, not just any vamp. What he said was that he wanted to be with Spike and
the slayer had better learn to live with it. It was a terrible scandal!"

Accustomed to hearing strange stories, Willy was generally immuned to tales of the weird
but this one was so bizarre that it held his full attention. Leaning his elbows on the bar,
Willy ignored the shouts of the other patrons for refills and he focused all his attention on
the wrinkled mess in front of him.

"No shit? Spike claimed one of the slayer's minions and she didn't dust him? What the
fuck, Clem? What the hell convinced her to let him live? Um, so to speak."

Clem tugged a floppy ear uncomfortably and Willy could almost swear that the demon's face
had just blushed an odd shade of orange. Although you wouldn't suspect it when you looked
at him, Clem was a demon with a delicate constitution and while he didn't mind
describing murder and mayhem in colorful detail, the mention of intimacy and coupling
made him squirm.

"Oh, well, from what I heard, the boy disappeared from his house one night and when the
slayer busted down the door of the crypt, she found Spike with his vamp dick buried balls
deep in the boy's no-longer-virginal-ass. Apparently it was a very squicky moment for
all involved. Eeewww! So anyway, after that, ownership of the boy, I think his name is
Xander, was signed over and Spike staked his claim. Literally. Repeatedly."

By now, the distracting shouts and protests of a thirsty clientele had reached epic proportions
and Willy pointed a finger directly at Clem's nose with the order, "Stay here!" as he rushed off
to fill the demands of his customers. Within minutes he was back. Clem was still on his
stool, the cooling blood mugs were coagulating while the puss plate was empty. Quickly,
Willy snatched it up, slapped another scoop of wibbly, green slime on as an offering and
he waved his hand for Clem to pick up the story where he had left off. Which he cheerfully did.

"So after that, Spike declared himself as the proud owner of a human pet. He told us that
over the years he has had pets before and that it takes time to break them in just right. He
said that they did not want to be disturbed for at least six weeks. After that, he took the
boy, along with a full set of chains, a whip, a jug of lube and a couple of them blue tarps that
was on sale at Big Lots down into the bottom part of his crypt. We ain't heard nothing outta
them since then but before he left, Spike said that he would meet us here tonight for a game
of kitty poker."

Willy shoved himself back from the bar and he shook his head in disbelief. Spike. The
lone wolf had taken a butt pet. He had just never figured Spike for the domestic vamp
type. Still, after six weeks it was doubtful that a human pet would still be alive. Not
considering the voracious sexual appetite of a vampire master.

Clem squirmed happily. He loved being the center of attention and nothing would please
him more than remaining right here and expounding on the bones of this story with a few
added, less-than-factual fine points but time was short. He was charged with setting up
the poker game and the vampire at the center of this memorable narrative was due here
at any time.

"Damn, I better get moving. Of course you know that everything I just told you is strictly on the QT."

Willy nodded seriously and made a zipping motion across his lips which he capped it off
by tossing away the imaginary key and holding up two fingers in the Boy Scout oath of
honor. Clem knew it was bullshit. Willy would be blabbing before Clem's stool cooled off
but it didn't matter. By sunrise, the entire demon population of Sunnydale would know of
the vampire's coup over the slayer and tracking the source back to Clem would be neigh
on to impossible.

Just then, the front door slammed open and shut one more time.

"BLOOD! NOW!"

Every head in the room snapped toward the voice that exploded like a cannon shot. Clem
leapt form his bar stool and he darted towards the back room to complete the tasks that
should have already been accomplished. As soon as Willy complied, Spike snatched his
mug and he marched off leaving a roomful of demons muttering questions and whispers in
his wake.

The back room was sparse. Bare walls and scratched wood floors. It had a round table in
the center and several chairs lined up along the side. When Spike burst through the door to
the inner sanctum, Clem was just finishing the organization of the room, which took him all
of two minutes.

Wiz, the B'klr demon and Booger, the Snorfle demon were already there and silently
waiting permission to sit. They could feel the tension in the air as the vampire vibrated
with pent-up adrenalin. Neither of them had the courage to ask what the fuck was going
on but the both had faith that the tactless Clem most surely would.

So, with a chipper attitude that said nothing untoward was happening, Clem
encouraged everyone to sit and he plopped his first Siamese on the table along with
a discreetly marked deck of cards.

"So, Spike, big fella, what's been shaking'?"

Spike grumbled an indistinguishable reply and he set a tabby into the ante. Clem was
not satisfied. He temporarily paused in his deal.

"What? What was that?"

In reply, Spike gave his tablemate a murderous glare that had Wiz and Booger questioning
their ability to make it to the exit to the alley before Spike could rip their heads off. When
they decided the equation did not fall to their advantage, they stayed in their seats.
Clem remained apparently oblivious to Spike's ire as he reworded his question.

"I hear you have a new pet. Not that I would tell anyone but you know how these damn
demons talk. Anyway, how's the training going? I'll bet by now you have him chained to
the wall, sucking your dick on command and spreading his ass cheeks at the snap of your
fingers. Damn, you are one lucky vamp."

Wiz and Booger shared a horrified glance and both scooted their chairs back away from the
table in the hope that they would not be splattered with too many Clem body parts. And for
a brief moment that seemed a good possibility. Then, much to everyone's surprise, Spike
just seemed to deflate. His body slumped and his shoulders lost their shape. His head
dropped and he let out a deep sigh that carried a slight shudder at the end.

Finally, when it seemed that the moment would drag on with no resolution, Spike tossed
his cards onto the table while the forgotten kittens discreetly scampered off the table and
out the back door.

"I just gotta tell someone. Can I trust you blokes not to repeat any of what I say?"

All three heads nodded furiously as if it were bobble-head night at Yankee Stadium.
Clem cursed his lack of paper and pencil with which to take notes. When Spike had
the assurance of their confidentiality, he began to speak.

"Back during the turn of the century I took my first pet. A young boy in his late teens. He
was fresh and untouched. Just the sort of sweet, juicy thing that fattens a vamp's pecker.
I told him I wanted to see a good cocksucker and an eager bunghole. It took a couple of
months, but by the early spring of that year, I came home to see a clean, waiting arse and a
lack of gag reflex. Course I ate him soon after. I was very young and impulsive."

Spike shrugged and the others nodded their understanding. As he collected his thoughts,
Spike continued.

"My next pet was around the early Twenties. He was a handsome, dark-skinned Spaniard.
I gave him the same orders along with the command that he allow me to fuck him in front of
any other vamp whenever I chose. The first month I didn't see any cooperation, but the
during the next month I saw a marked improvement. By the third month, I saw him not only
ride my cock whenever I gave the command but he could swallow a load of vamp cum
without losing a drop. Talented boy, that one. Unfortunately I also saw him dancing on the
end of Dracula's short, shameful cock and I had to kill him."

By now, the other three at the table were hanging on every word and had a funny suspicion
that this story was not working its way toward a happy ending. Finally, with a scratch of his
head and a sorrowful sigh, Spike recanted the last of his tale of woe.

"Well, anyway, I figured I'm older now. Smarter and more responsible. And to be honest, a
bit lonely. Now, any of you that have seen the slayer's boy knows he is a yummy treat and
for some time I have been wanting him. When he actually admitted that he wanted me
too, fucking brilliant! We both dropped trou and it was on!"

Spike snorted and threw his hands in the air. "Of course you know me. Can't leave a good
thing alone. Who was it said 'If it ain't broke. don't fix it?' Shoulda been me. He seemed
like he was on board. He told the slayer he wanted to belong to me. So, I did what I had
done before. I told him I wanted to see improvement. I said I wanted to see compliance
and eager cooperation.
I expected to see a perfect pet!"

Clem blinked. "So what happened? Did you see all of that?"

Spike's hand drifted up to his face and his fingers ghosted over his eye.

"Well, by the third day most of the swelling went down and I could see a little bit out of the
left eye but the right is still wonky.
Comments 
1st-Mar-2011 07:41 pm (UTC)
LOL that was priceless apart from anything else i always get a fit of the giggles when you yanks mention fannypacks cos here in the UK that has a completely different meaning!!!!! and Spike should have seen that coming from a mile away!!
Anonymous
1st-Mar-2011 07:54 pm (UTC)
Spike is so full of himself that he never see the train coming until it runs him over. I actually do know your meaning of fannypack and it is funnier.
1st-Mar-2011 11:50 pm (UTC)
Brilliant!
That's made me laugh after a long night at work
2nd-Mar-2011 12:11 am (UTC)
That is the nicest thing you could have said.
2nd-Mar-2011 10:56 pm (UTC)
love it
3rd-Mar-2011 10:15 am (UTC)
Thanks, Sweety.
(Deleted comment)
4th-Mar-2011 07:38 pm (UTC)
Woo Hoo! I achieved snortage!
11th-Mar-2011 04:55 am (UTC) - <lj user="bloodclaim"> update for Sunday, March 6 - Thursday, March 9, 2010
User yourlibrarian referenced to your post from bloodclaim update for Sunday, March 6 - Thursday, March 9, 2010 saying: [...] (R) -- Short Leash [...]
31st-Mar-2011 02:44 am (UTC)
That is just too darn funny! LOL!
31st-Mar-2011 03:42 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much for reading and commenting. Naughty and I are in an e-mail joke competition and I am about to post another.
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