Disclaimer: I do not own any of the
characters in this story and make no
money off them.
Summary: AU. Xander is a young man
living in an Amish community when he
finds himself confronted by the evil of a
STRONG WARNING: although done in a respectful
manner, this story deals with religious issues. If you
find that offensive DO NOT READ.
Special thanks to Petxnd for the wonderful artwork
Spike felt exhilarated.
He was a free spirit for fuck's sake. He was
never meant to be cooped up not even for a
That, along with the injuries and recovery, had made him
feel like a caged animal. Now, however, as he raced
through the darkness of the woods he could feel
his demon howl at the pull of the moon.
The cold evening air seemed to freeze around his
already cool body. He briefly remembered how
amazing the boy's heat felt against him.
Immediately he shut off all those thoughts. He relaxed
and gave free reign to his ancient spirit. The smell of
the damp earth combined with the ozone in the air
filled him with peace.
Off in the distance he could sense the heartbeats of
thousands of humans and knew he was close to the
activity of a town. He was confident he would find
everything he needed there.
Blood, alcohol, and maybe even a little willing pussy.
He belonged to no one.
Hadn't for at least 80 years, not since Angelus abandoned him,
and he vowed he never would again.
Coming to the edge of the town limits, Spike stopped and
let his eyes roam. He had clearly come out around the
wrong side of the tracks. The ugly end of town.
He smelled all the worst of humanity.
Alcohol, vomit, and cheap perfume.
Crouching, the demon threw his head back and breathed
in the air around him, almost able to taste the deliciousness
Regaining control he slipped over the line and strolled
casually across the parking lot of the nearest bar.
Pausing at the door he could detect only one or two
humans and the annoying strains of Brittany Spears.
Spike snarled and backed off. Even he wasn't evil
enough to listen to that.
Darting across the street and down an alley he then
approached an unmarked brick building.
The front lot was lined with motorcycles and the music
was the screaming sounds of Led Zeppelin.
Pulling his duster tightly around him, Spike pushed open
the door and strode in.
Almost all eyes turned his way. Most dismissed him as
uninteresting, some stared defiantly at the nerve of this
puny interloper invading their personal space.
Spike knew well that a biker bar was no place to expect
a basket from the Welcome Wagon.
Selecting a stool at the far end of the bar and settled in
for what promised to be a most entertaining evening.
"Well, you're new around here, ain't cha, Honey?
Can I get you something to drink?"
Spike looked up at the skanky, tattoo covered bar maid.
Nope, this was not the one.
"I'd love that Pet. Maybe a shot and a beer chaser?"
He gave her a winning smile and a wink but no more of his
Bringing his drinks, she set them down and leaning in close
"You might want to drink up and move on, Cutie. This is kind
of a rough bunch and they don't cotton to strangers."
Spike threw back the whisky and slid the glass over indicating
another. "Not here to make friends Pet, just have a few drinks."
The waitress shrugged and refilled his glass. She figured she
had done her best. What happened now, happened.
Spike swallowed the second shot and turned on his stool to
observe the room while he drank his beer.
The room was dim, lit mostly by the neon signs on the walls
that advertised all brands of beer. Most of which the bar
Three pool tables monopolized most of the space in the
room and were the centers of activity.
Dozens of men moved around them on a constant wave of
motion. All dressed in leather and sharing pool sticks and
joints it was hard to tell who was actually playing and
who was just a spectator.
Scantly clad almost cartoony looking biker bitches hung over
their "daddies" holding their beers and offering encouragement.
It didn't take long to determine who the king and queen of
this bizarre little club were. The biggest biker of the bunch
stood, pool cue in hand, by the first table.
At least 6'4" he wore nothing under his black leather fringe
covered vest. His black leather pants came up to, but not
over, his huge, hard beer belly.
Hanging to his chest was a grey partly braided
food filled beard.
All other bikers deferred to his wants and needs.
Running his beers, joints, and groping his dick was just
what Spike was looking for. Skinny, blond, surprisingly
good looking, and from the wink she just gave him, easy.
Kinda reminded him of - nope not going there.
Yea, it was obvious she was King Shit's personal property,
but that only made her more appealing.
He watched as she casually walked over against the back
wall and hopped up on a stool that sat behind the pool tables.
Spreading her legs, she let her leather mini skirt ride up her
thighs to reveal her naked, shaved pussy.
Apparently they don't make panties in leather.
Spike relaxed in and enjoyed the whole scene that played
out in front of him.
Not ready to make his move yet, he drank several more
beers and watched as the rest of the room did the same.
As expected the level of violence increased as the alcohol
flowed and the night wore on. Several fights broke out,
but none that amounted to much.
The queen bitch who he now knew to be "Sherry" had
come to the bar twice to pick up more drinks.
Each time she had brushed her breasts against his arm.
Yea, she was just what he needed.
Thank God that as a vampire he couldn't catch any of
the diseases he was sure she carried.
At about 2 a.m. Spike figured he was ready and the room ripe.
Sliding off his stool he caught Sherry's eye and tipped his
head toward the door to the alley. Her face lit up like
It turned Spike's stomach. Slapping his money on the
bar, he thanked the waitress and headed out, knowing
Sherry would be close behind.
Spike lit a cigarette and waited. 3...2...1...
"Hey Baby, what can I do for a good looking guy like you?"
Spike grabbed her roughly by the arm and dragged her
around the corner slamming her up against the brick wall.
He tossed away his cigarette and reached for his fly.
When he realized whose pants they were he almost
Blanking his brain he unbuttoned and pulled his cock out.
"Hey, take it easy." Sherry gave a half a protest.
"Shut the fuck up and spread your legs!"
Spike turned her around, slapped her bare ass, shoved up her
skirt, and rammed his cock in her wet, ready pussy.
The tears ran freely down his face as he slammed in again
and again. With her clit still untouched, she humped and
squealed in an obviously fake sounding orgasm.
The ignorance of it just pissed him off more.
Soon, as the physical stimulation alone was bringing him to
the edge of release, he was confronted with the booming
outrage of King Shit.
Spike briefly wondered what took him so long.
"What the fuck you doin' Bitch?"
Spike pulled out and ejaculated onto the bent over cheeks
of Sherry's bare ass.
Calmly tucking himself back in he chuckled at the fury of
the fat man in front of him.
"You can have her back. Frankly she wasn't that good."