bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,
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Carnivale Mystique

Title: Carnivale Mystique
9/42
Author: BmblBee
Rating: NC17
Paring: S/X
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or products named in this
story and make no profit from it.

Summary: A mysterious carnival appears on the outskirts of Sunnydale.
Despite the sudden disappearance of townspeople and pets, Xander is
intrigued and wants a closer look. What he gets is more than he could
have imagined.

ADDITIONAL WARNING: This chapter contains noncon sexual
activity!

This story is based on a suggested story idea from the lovely Mystic Oblivion.




As always, thanks to the wonderful Petxnd for the banners that put the perfect
visual to my words.


Xander was furious. He checked his watch and confirmed his suspicions
that it was only 10:30. Early. Too early for the game booth to have closed
up. What right did they have to offer a customer a chance to win a stuffed
bat, then renege?

Xander stood with his fists balled up, staring at the closed up canvass and
wooden booth. It was suddenly the most important thing in Xander's world
that he be given the opportunity to toss a baseball and win a prize.

Now he was pissed. Pissed off and determined to find the irresponsible
carny and give him a piece of his mind. He would demand that the booth
be reopened and Xander be offered his chance to play and win.

Xander's chest heaved as his breathing quickened and he began to pace
back and forth in front of the darkened shanty. Seeing nothing that would
indicate occupation, Xander peered around the side and was surprised
to realize that what appeared to be a square 10' x 10' shack was actually
much larger.

The rear of the booth had a large, attached, windowless tent that Xander
imagined was probably where the worker stored his supply of stuffed
toys, baseballs, and even possibly slept.

With a courage Xander couldn't possibly recognize as his own, he slowly
crept forward. His conscience screamed at him that this was stupidity,
let alone maybe illegal. If the man did live here, he was trespassing.

Each footfall and his brain chanted,
'Why am I doing this? Why am I doing this? Why am I doing this?'

As he stepped around to the rear, his foot caught on the tent's tie down
rope and he stumbled in the pitch darkness. Quickly he slapped a hand
over his mouth to prevent himself from making any audible sound and he
regained his balance.

That's when he heard it. Muffled. Human, but not. A sound both pathetic
and demanding. Two sounds. Two voices. Xander eased closer, his
eyes now adjusting to the lack of light. He carefully ran his hand along the
side of the canvass as his mind still justified his actions by the desire for a
toy, winged rodent.

When his fingers brushed over the edge of the flap, his whole body shuddered.
His hand froze and everything in him screamed at him to stop.
Licking is dry lips, Xander slowly drew back the tent's doorway a small
fraction of an inch as he crouched and peeked in.

At first he saw nothing. An unmade cot in the corner. Some cartons
overflowing with the elusive stuffed prizes. A small bookshelf with a
variety of canned goods and cartons of beer. Just when he was beginning
to think he had been mistaken, he heard it again.

Immediately, his eyes snapped to the left in the direction of the voices.
What he saw shot ice water through him. He blinked. He stared, trying
to convince himself he wasn't mistaken. His brain said he was wrong.
His eyes and ears knew the truth.

At the far side stood a small, battered wooden table. Bent over it, with
his hands bound behind his back in a black leather strap, was Larry.
He was naked. His head was pulled up by his hair and Xander could
now see why Larry's words were muffled. He had a gag in his mouth.
A ball gag that was strapped tightly around his head and cutting into
his cheeks.

Still, it wasn't the look of terror in Larry's eyes that held Xander transfixed.
The football jock's pain and horror were almost mundane as Xander
stared, mesmerized at the other man in the room. Plastered behind his
nonfriend was the blond carny Xander had come to find.

He was also naked. His body unbelievably beautiful. Pale, glowing,
almost ethereal. He was shorter, muscular, compact, his body screamed
of power and possession as he pounded into Larry's.

'FUCKING!' The word slammed into Xanders' brain as surely as the
carney's cock rammed into Larry's ass. Arousal flooded his body and
churned in his pants as Xander realized they were actually butt fucking.

"Fuckin' little bitch"
Spike's deep cockney accent emphasized each word as he grunted
them out. Xander stared at the slim hips that snapped forward each time,
causing Larry to whine and moan as his own erection bobbed at the table's
edge untouched.

With one hand still holding back the flap of the tent, Xander's other hand
unconsciously slid down to the front of his jeans and pressed firmly
against his own rock hard erection. He wanted to be repulsed.
He knew instinctively that Larry was not a willing participant to this
erotic peep show and the very least he should do was leave immediately.
The most he could do was call the police. Report this travesty, this
criminal assault and see the perpetrator arrested.

Xander popped open the top button on his jeans and he slid his hand inside.
The instant his cool fingertips brushed over his heated, painfully hard flesh, he
jerked forward yet his eyes never left the scene inside.

Spike's left hand firmly held the strap that bound Larry's hands and his
right gripped a fist full of the boy's hair. His strong, corded thighs stood
wide apart and held him solidly in place as he relentlessly slammed his
long, thick cock into the boy's previously virginal hole.

"Yeah, fuckin' bloody sweet little bitch. This what you wanted? You
wanted Spike to break you in all good and proper? Fuck you so good
you won't want nobody else up your arse, will you boy?"

Larry whimpered. Obviously trying to answer in the negative, his sounds,
slobbering around the hard rubber gag, pooled in Xanders' cock like he
imagined a blowjob must feel and he stroked himself faster.

Xander knew the sounds of his heart beating against his ribcage, his
gasping breath and his fist slapping wetly upon his dick had to be loud
enough to be heard by the men who stood less than 20 feet away.
Still, he couldn't stop. He had never been so horny in his life.

Suddenly, the unthinkable happened.

Releasing his grip on Larry's hair, Spike slapped his hand on his captive's
forehead, jerking his head back and to the side. Xander's hand stopped
stroking and he pulled the flap wider to get a better look.

Before he could react, Spike snapped his head around and he looked
Xander dead in the eye, but not with the beautiful blue ones Xander
remembered seeing. No, what pierced his gaze were yellow, slitted
cat's eyes centered in a face like nothing Xander had ever imagined.

Xander knew with an absolute certainity that this performance was for him.

With no words between them, Spike immediately let out a screeching,
horrifying scream before he curled his lips back, showing a razor sharp row
of teeth and fangs that he plunged into Larry's exposed throat.

Xander's eyes bugged and he gasp. He watched as Larry kicked and
struggled wildly before falling limp, slumping, his legs swinging loosely
off the ground.

Stumbling backward, Xander let go of the tent flap, stepped backward and
fell over the guide wire on the ground behind him. When he fumbled to his
feet to run, he realized his pants were wet.

Xander had cum in his jeans.
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