Paring: S/X - of course
Warnings: None really except the expected man lovin'
Disclaimer: The Bee owns nothing, including the
lovely men used in the commission of this story.
Summary: This is a follow up to the story "Temptation".
It sees Spike and his new childe returning to California
to the dark angel. He has the answers to questions
Spike has about Xander.
Anyone who is interested in reading Temptation, it can be
found here: http://bmblbee.livejournal.com/tag/temptation
As always chapters posted daily, comments very gratefully accepted.
Spike strolled casually through the rooms in the lower level of the
house hoping to burn time while his eager puppy of a childe
searched the upstairs for a safe place to spend the day.
If this worked out well enough they might just stay for a few days.
Spike gave the idea only a minutes thought before disgarding it.
This was still too close to the boy's farm and past family.
No, they needed to move on. Put some miles behind them
and start their unlives together.
Gingerly, he touched his cock, hissing and flinching. Since
becoming a vampire he had quickly become a sexually driven
being but this was just fucking ridiculous.
Seemed they couldn't walk ten feet without his newly risen dropping
to his knees or lowering those comic button front Amish trousers
and wiggling his hungry little hole.
Apparently the combination of late teenage hormones combined with
vampire stamina and the newly discovered pleasures of the wonderful
world of butt lovin' was just too much.
If Spike weren't already dead this would have done the job for sure.
Circling around from the living room Spike located a small alcove
area in front of the door to the basement. Scattered about on the floor
were a dozen or so sheets that had apparently been used to cover
the furniture that had once been stored here.
The area was away from all windows and could not be seen from the
front door. It suited their needs perfectly.
Gathering together the bedding he shook off the dust bunnies,
fluffed it into a pile, and settled in to wait.
He considered calling Xander to join him but decided better.
Yawning, Spike reveled in the possibility of catching a few uncopulating
moments before Xander came searching for him.
No doubt cock in hand.
That was a thought that brought great comfort and hope to Spike.
Maybe Xander would get desperate enough and jack off before
returning to his sires side. It might just buy him an hour or so.
Rearranging the nest, Spike circled twice like a dog then dropped down
and fell asleep instantly, careful not to lay on his pooped pecker.
"Well that one is going to be no good to us."
The voices whispered, both disappointed and disgusted.
"I thought vampires could go forever."
A cool breeze rushed through Spike's body causing him to shudder.
"This one is spent. He can't give us what we need. We must return
to the other one. He is younger, stronger, his body is ready. His cock
and balls full and heavy. We will use him. We will share him."
The other voices murmured their agreement and the cold air left the room.
Spike sighed at the renewed warmth of the small space.
He curled his body up, rolled over, and slept on.
Meanwhile, happily humming "The Old Rugged Cross", Xander stuck
his head in each of the bedrooms and quickly stepped back away from
the light streaming in through the torn curtains and broken glass.
Following the creaking wooden hallway he came to a dead end and
to the right, a small door. Inside was a narrow staircase leading upwards.
Wrinkling his nose at the stuffy, moldy smell he slipped up the narrow
stairway, ducking his head low to avoid smacking his forehead
an an overhanging beam.
Reaching the top he found the space open, dark, and stuffy.
A quick look around told him why. The only windows were
two small round panes of stained glass at each end of the long room.
Dirt crusted and sealed shut they blocked out all air and
light from the outside.
If the lower level of the house has been uninhabited for years
the attic had been abandoned even longer.
It was perfect.
Xander immediately began fussing and prepping. There were
several old steamer trunks and he set about searching each for
bedding they could use to make a comfy sleepng area.
Happily whistling "I Walk Through The Garden Alone" he
found stacks of motheaten dresses and woolen coats.
After trying on a few feathered bonnets in front of a curiously
blank mirror he resumed the task of floor padding.
Xander was certain his sire would want his child's knees and
back to be well cushioned when he fucked him, so he carefully
stacked and fluffed an area where they could romp and roll.
Oh, and sleep, of course.
Standing back, Xander crossed his arms and smiled at the cozy
little nest he had made. Turning to go retrieve his sire, Xander
was stunned when the cold slammed through him.
It felt like an icy wind yet nothing in the room stirred.
Unable to move, he was horrified as he felt it, like frigd fingers,
move through his body and touch his dead heart.
Worst of all he could feel it in his mind, searching and probing.
It was terrifying, like nothing he had ever known dead or alive.
He tried to move, to scream, to run, but his feet were bolted.
Locked in place. His muscles rigid as the faint memory of rigor
mortis came to his mind.
Behind him, out of Xander's view, things began moving.
The steamer trunk of vintage dresses and hats slowly
reopened, the lid silently lifting and falling back.
Unseen hands lifted and crumpled, tossing about the dusty fabrics as if
frantically searching for certain articles known to be stored there.
The room, which had before been dimmed by the years of dirt
caked on the windows, was now pitch black.
Still caught in the web of terror, the newly risen vampire was
unable to give over to his demon side and enhanced vision.
He felt trapped.
He felt scared and confused.
He wanted his sire.
"Hurry, I can't hold him long."
"Quickly. Quickly. Before he moves. Are you sure this is right?"
"It is what the Powers told us. Our shame keeps us trapped here.
Our hate of what we were. If an innocent willingly shares his
release with us, proves our love of each other was not a sin,
we will be free to move on."
Finally, just as suddenly as it had come over him, it was gone.
His rigid muscles relaxed so quickly he stumbled.
Spinning around in a circle, Xander tried to see through the darkness.
The voices. He knew he heard voices.
"Demon? Is that you? Please be you."
Harshly whispering, the sound of his own words cutting through
the black silence caused him to jump.
"Hush, Pet. Your sire is here. We're going to play a game."
Relief washed through Xander's body. He hesitated,
unsure which way to turn. He couldn't tell which ear
Spike had spoken in. It was almost as if his sire had
talked to him from within his mind.
Xander shook his head to clear the foolishness of those
thoughts. 'It must be the dark that is making it so
disorenting.' He reasoned.
"A game, Demon? What kind of game? What do you
want me to do?"
"Trust me, Xander, just trust me."
"Always Sire. Always."
Within seconds an old scarf, one worn a century earlier by
a stylish lady of means, wrapped itself around his eyes tightly.
At the same instant a leather belt, no doubt from her loving
husband, bound his hands at the wrist and roughly jerked
his arms high over his head.