Pairing: Xander/Spike (don’t be fooled by the Willow beginning)
Rating: Mature Audiences – for content and themes
Summary: There was a spell and a book and then... it all went pear shaped and he ended up on paper!
Spoilers: Canon is Post S7 BtVS and S5 AtS.
Warnings: M/M – if you don't like boys together, don't play here! Lots of kink - and a tail...
“Well Harris… there’s a surprise… and aren’t you just a treat! All trussed up like the Christmas turkey. And… Bloody hell! A tail???!!!! A *real* tail… what demon gifted you… Hang on…”
Spike eased out the rather strangely *drawn* bridle and bit and Xander coughed then spat hard, but then turned his face to the ground, his long locks now cascading and used as cover as he cried.
How could he explain… there was no explanation regarding his… lack of attire… and his new adornments… his new appendages. His ears were now pointed, and pierced; his nipples were similarly impaled; he was cuffed and chained with his nether regions covered in festive naïve style flowers and a tight leather cock ring; he had a *real* tail; and his ‘entrance’ was apparently begging to be ridden, open and pulsing for the main event. Who wouldn’t shed a few tears.
But it was the words “G#$% Pet you’re bloody beautiful!” Xander was already on the floor on all fours, his chains dictating the position. And he begged in that moment to any deity he could think of… *hoped* the vampire would drain him… oblivion better than…
Then the white haired *Bast#@%* began to stroke the underside of his tail, and a little beyond, while another hand relieved his nipples of their weights and massaged them before the hand on his tail shifted and began to take great delight in *very* slowly removing the binding from his nether regions… very… very… slowly.
Xander almost wished he was a picture again.
But as the stupid flowers were quite gently removed and his chains broken with vampire strength, he no longer objected to his rescuer’s attentions.
The gruff “Harris You arse!” was nothing as he melted into the soft feel of the cool vampire’s skin, accepted he was still bound in some fashion but now a willing participant as the tail was lifted, butt ‘enhancement’ removed and he was entered.
The tail, held and stroked as it was… and so released from his various bindings… he could not help but release within seconds. It was like he was sixteen!
Within seconds of the vampire riding and releasing he felt the sting of a bite near his shoulder and instinctively took his wrist… then he was kissed *so* kissed!!
With no touch he rutted slightly and came as the underside of the tail was stroked again… there was no control.
Xander would have cursed but his saviour, his tormentor felt it coming and knew…
Spike invoked the spell again. As he desperatly melted back into his book, Xander heard, “You’ll be safe with me Luv – ‘M a right fine drawer…” then his page was torn from the book and shoved between Shakespeare’s ‘Hamlet’ and Homer’s ‘Illiad’ on Spike’s shelf.
The volume was returned to the Coven shelves minus a page.
A day or two later, Xander’s page was pulled from between the volumes. It was late afternoon and under the stare of a bright reading lamp he felt odd as his muscles were meticulously made more defined, a thick leather gag was drawn in, his eyelashes were made just a little longer, and his tail was made thicker and a far more ‘natural’ looking appendage.
“Ahhh Pet aren’t you a treasure… Let’s see how you enjoy this lot…”
As an after thought, Spike drew in a cock ring and re-defined his drawing’s penis to be a very ‘interested’ member then invoked the reversal spell. Xander wanted to scream… those words again!
This time he emerged so hard he could hardly think. His body was as taut and toned as any male porn star and his tail responded to the most slight of strokes. Every touch, had him working against his cock ring.
The chains between wrist and ankles still held him fast and the gag prevented all but the most basic of whimpers, but at least his nipples had some relief from their hefty load and associated pain.
But now there was a new problem. Spike stroked his tail and perineum until he was in pain, then released his cock ring at the same time as he shoved something hard and long and slim and lubed up his arse. And within minutes of coming, he was back on his parchment in sepia, member at half mast and cock ring in place, and tail rather ‘ruffled’, and unseen to any who picked up the picture, a lubed plug jammed in his rear.
That night and for the two after, as he collapsed on his page between the volumes, the plug pushed on something inside… and ‘full’ became incredibly *hot*and frustrating.
Eventually his illustrator returned but there was no release, rather, an inebriated Spike redrew his nipple rings as clamps, rubbed out the chains to his manacles and redrew them so they attached nipples to his cock ring, and as an after thought made the cock ring into a vibrator egg that stimulated balls and cock and as it turned out the base of his tail, then drew in the control device, dialled to 10 on the ground beside the male figure.
Spike extended his illustrated fingernails then coloured each black before he snorted at his resulting diagram and tucked it away again.
On a whim he pulled out the picture on the anniversary of Angel’s death and invoked the reversal.
A panting brunette landed at his feet. Plug in place, vibrator working and tail arched and twitching with the stimulation.
Spike took pity on the figure and took off the gag he had so easily illustrated on the pretty face then grinned as the man moaned relief, cried out then begged as his release was stifled and erection turned purple under the torment. “Oh please… please just… dial it down or rub it out or… or… *please*.”
Spike took pity, stripped off the cock-ring come vibrator and watched in mild amusement as the man fell forward and rocked back and forth for a moment on all fours then plastered the floor under him with spunk, kept rocking and dry twitched a second orgasm within seconds.
By the time Spike attended the abused nipples and released the clamps he had so carefully illustrated, the man had his forehead on leather manacled arms, his tail had fallen limp, his member hung small and listless and he was crying silently.
“Just draw me into something else… not this… don’t mind the tail… like it even but not all the other… Please Spike *please*… Rub me out… something!”
Spike waited for him to calm. “What if ya trust me a little Pet… let me take ya t’ places you never thought were possible… seems as though we have that chance?”
“Anything! Just no more *toys*.”
That evening his illustration was altered. There were no more toys (apart from the plug), but there was now pale brown fur covering his legs and a new pair of pointed ears in place, plus his collar had suddenly gained a very significant ring and a leash fastening him to the floor.
He rested reasonably comfortably that evening his page tucked into an old version of David Copperfield.
A day later he was rather dismayed to be tugged out and find his feet replaced by rather well drawn hooves along with an adjustment of the alignment of his thighs and calves changed to reflect… a faun.
Spike finished his efforts by giving Xander small horns. The brunette curls that matched his tail were still there but the horns were unmistakable.
“Pretty as a picture Pet…” Then Spike again tucked him away for two days, Xander still wondering what the new form was… and then it was suddenly too bright and a rather drunk Spike invoked the reversal spell and he rose from the page, this time standing with difficulty as he adjusted to his newly drawn form.
Spike was unrepentant and actually… chuffed. He pressed the new faun against the back of the settee, pulled out the plug and drove inside with no thought other than release. Licking the tips of the ears and stroking the base of the horns, then caressing the underside of the tail!?!! Xander found himself utterly out of control and came twice in quick succession. His recovery time consistent with the magical creature he had been drawn as. Spike filled him, kissed him, and gave him no time to consider what had just happened before calling in the spell again.
This time he was shoved between the covers of Ivanhoe and the Scarlet Pimpernel, and it was a picture of a debauched faun lying across a large log in the forest that graced his parchment. The tail was now thick, luxurious and ‘working’, an erogenous zone a human could only struggle to imagine; the hooves, not so wanted but manageable; and the ear tips… well see above tail.
It was a week before Spike felt inspired to draw again.