Warnings: Bad language and M/M sexual situations.
Disclaimer: The Bee owns none of the characters used
in this story.
Summary: A new take on the old fable of Rumpelstiltskin.
Xander is held in the tower prison of the evil King Liam and has
been ordered to spin a roomful of straw to gold. Can he do
it? Is there someone who can help?
Other than pointing out grammatical errors, comments are greatly appreciated.
Thanks to Naughty Fae for the pre-read and encouragement
Link to previous chapters HERE
The sound of the metallic key in the door's lock stirred both men from their peaceful
slumber. Immediately, in an instinctive move of preservation, Xander scrambled to snatch
the mystical cloak up and toss it around his lover. "Go! Spike, change. Go. Now."
But Spike stood stoic and refused. He threw up his arm deflecting the cloak away and
instead opted for his trousers and shirt. If he and his boy were to die this morning, Spike
would rather it not be with his willy dangling for all the castle court to see. "No, Xander.
I'm through running and hiding."
Xander was panicked but he knew in his heart that the time for arguments had run out.
The wolves were at the door and their bloodthirsty fangs were sharp as sabers. On the
ominous sound of squeaky hinges, the heavy door swung open and the two occupants of
the small dungeon room joined hands next to the unused spinning wheel and braced
themselves for the thundering herd of hulking, well-armed guards.
What they got was slightly different.
"Hi, Xan. I brung you the bucket so's you can...." Andrew stopped just inside the cell door.
He stood frozen in his tracks with the wooden pale still swinging by its rope handle in
his outstretched hand.
The air was hot and heavy, muggy with the heady, sour smell of sex. It was an odor that
Andrew knew will as it had often been his job to serve as the King's wiper. Along with Toby,
the other favored page, Andrew would wait in the hallway until the King finished with
whatever subject, page or castle slave His Highness was currently, enthusiastically violating.
Toby and Andrew jokingly referred to the unfortunates as 'the butt holes du jour'.
Then, after the King had spilled his seed, he would shout for the boys to rush in and clean
away all traces of the act before Queen Drusilla returned from her extended strolls in the
garden. With buckets and rags, the young page would wash the royal pecker, thighs and
crotch. Because Toby had the least seniority, he was assigned the more distasteful task
of scrubbing the messy, used ass hole that had been abused to remove all incriminating
evidence. When the tasks were complete, the scullery maids hustled in to strip off the
fouled sheets and air the royal bedchamber. It was a ritual that the castle staff had down
to completion in just a few minutes.
And that's why, to Andrew, there was no mistaking the smell. It was ripe and pungent and
the small, circular tower room was steeped in it. But, as distinctive and tell-tailing as that
was, the sniff factor was only a fraction of what was wrong with this picture.
Slowly, Andrew's head turned as far to the right as possible before spanning all the way to the
left for a full peripheral scan. While emitting a small, strangled sound, he took in the sight of
the untouched straw, the rumpled, debauched looking prisoner and the inhuman looking
monster that stood at the prisoner's side. When Andrew's visual convinced his unbelieving
eyes that what he was seeing was in fact the true picture, he cautiously set the bucket down
on the floor at his feet and he took a giant step backwards towards the cell door. "Uh oh.
This is not good. This is not good at all."
Quickly, hoping to stop the young page from summoning the guard before they were
ready, Xander released his grip on Spike's hand and he threw his palms up to signal that
they were no threat. Then, while gingerly easing forward Xander spoke softly and
urgently. "Wait. Wait. Andrew, listen. Please. Don't call the guards. Not yet. Just
give me a chance to explain. Will you do that? Will you just listen? Please?"
Andrew's eyes narrowed to suspicious slits as his gaze darted between the handsome prisoner
and the ugly creature that looked like something that might have swam from the depths of
the polluted castle moat. However, as interesting as the monster was, even more critical than
that was the knowledge that King Liam's greed was not to be satisfied and that
somehow, Andrew's name might get put in the mix.
Andrew shook his head as his finger pointed in all directions. "The only thing I wants to listen
to is how come you ain't spun that there straw. King Liam and Sir Giles is gonna
have somebody's ass for sure. Heads is gonna roll and I kinda like mine right where
it is, sitting on my shoulders."
Xander snorted at the lad's obvious lack of ability to take in the bigger picture. "Believe
me, Andrew, this straw is the least important issue in this whole mess. Do you have any
idea who this is?" Xander grabbed hold of Spike's hand and tugged the silent, ugly man
close to his side. So far Spike had chosen to remain quiet for fear of scaring the page off
before Xander could have a chance to plead their case.
Andrew toed the bucket toward Xander's feet while remaining within darting distance of
the closed door. He couldn't imagine anything Xander could say that would plant a seed
of right in this whole field of wrong. "Don't care who the fuck your freak is or even why
the guards tossed him in here with you. All I know is you ain't got the gold and I ain't
sticking around for when Elmo comes to collect what ain't here."
Xander frowned. "Elmo?"
Andrew shrugged and poked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the cell door.
"Yeah, big guy. Black, shiny skin. Bald head. Little dick. No balls. Elmo."
"Ohhhh." Xander nodded as he put a name to the description of the huge sword, wielding
man who had been in the tower room dungeon on several occasions. The fact that the man
was nut-less certainly didn't make his blade any less sharp and Xander decided that he
would rather not test the eunuch's skill with the only weapon he had left. It did, however
go a long way to explaining Elmo's perpetual bad mood. "Hey, I don't blame you. Elmo
gives me the heebie jeebies too, Andrew and I know he's nobody to mess with but that's
why you have to let me explain."
Andrew fell quiet as he mulled it over. He really did like Xander but the fact was, Andrew
liked himself better and anyway you looked at it the prisoner was probably doomed. Still,
the only other thing Andrew had to do this morning was go to the latrine troughs to retrieve
the King's hanging bloomers and check to see if the ammonia that rose from the floating shit
had killed the fleas. As far as Andrew was concerned, that was definitely a Toby task.
"Okay, tell you what. You use the bucket and I'll listen to whatever you gots to say for as
long as it takes you to piss."
Xander felt the rush of encouragement surge through him. "Great. Perfect!" And he
proceeded to scoot the bucket towards him positioning it between his feet. Xander tipped
his head toward Spike as he fumbled with the rope belt at the waist of his tattered
trousers. "Okay, well, you probably won't believe this, but this here is Prince William
O'Connor, the true crown of the kingdom of O'Connors."
"Un huh." One of Andrew's eyebrows lifted slightly. The young page let his gaze dance from
the bottoms of the creature's deformed, over-toed feet, up his bowed legs, taking in
the dangerously clawed hands and stopping at the mangled, deformed face. At that point,
Spike's yellow cat eyes met Andrew's skeptical blue ones. When Spike read the disgust
on the boy's young face, Spike drew back his lips in a snarl that displayed his fangs.
"Holy Bejesus." Andrew shuddered. Whatever this thing was, Andrew did NOT want to
piss him off. So, as he respectfully bowed deeply at the waist, a strained smile replaced
his grimace. "Oh, yeah, right. Good to meet you, Your Highness. You wants to hurry up
and get to peeing, Xander?"
Xander tugged his penis from his pants. His whole body slumped in relief as he let loose a
long hot stream. "Aaahhhh.. Hum? Oh, yeah. Damn, it's amazing how much one man's
bladder can hold. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yeah. Prince William here is under a
curse put on him by the magic of Sir Rupert of Giles. He was exiled to an enchanted forest
and turned into a bat while Liam stole the crown, the kingdom and even the Queen."
Andrew's lips puckered up. They scrunched to one side of his mouth then the other as he
thought that over. "Uh huh. Curse, crown, enchantments and queen. Gotcha."
In truth, the facts of the story rolled off Andrew's back like water off a duck while his
attention remained focused on what really held his interest. A possible peek at Xander's
penis. As the prisoner continued to fill the bucket, Andrew leaned forward, tipped his head
to a more advantageous angle and stared at the wonderful length of floppy heaven. Until
the sound of a deep, feral growl next to his ear caused every fine hair on his young body
to stand at attention. "EEP."
Xander glanced over and chuckled at the possessive glint in his lover's eye as Spike
stood looming over the frightened page. "Leave the boy alone, Spike." And he shook
the last few drops from his emptied dick.
By this time, the slender finger of light from the arrow slits in the tower had reached the
first section of wall and Xander knew their time before the arrival of the guards was almost
up. "Listen, Andrew, all we are asking you to do is distract the guard, Elmo, for just a
minute. When he comes here and while the door is open, all we need is a few seconds to
slip by him and run. Please, Andrew. That's all we need is just a minute. Will you do it?"
Andrew whined. His hand reached around behind his back and felt for the handle to the
cell door. Xander's request was nothing less than a conspiracy against the crown and
the perpetrators of such an act would be seen as traitors. If caught, the consequences
could be anything from a week in the public stocks to the painful removal of a critical body
part to the ultimate punishment. Death.
Reassured by the feel of the cold, iron door handle in his hand behind him, Andrew
frowned. "What's in it for me? Why should I put my butt on the line for you and Fido here?"
Spike's face darkened and his fists balled up at this sides. He could no longer hold his
tongue. "Fido? Why you scrawny, perverted little..."
Quickly, Xander placed a calming, reassuring hand on his beast's shoulder. "Down boy.
Stay! No one is calling you a dog." Then he turned his attention back to the page who
was on the verge of darting out the door. "Fine, Andrew, what is it you want?"
The query stirred interest within the boy and his fingers released their hold on the means
of escape as an intriguing idea entered his mind. This was better than the story his mother
used to tell him of the magic djin who granted a wish. Of course in the story, it never ended
well but that was because the boy always wished for jewels or gold. Something he
wasn't interested in.
Andrew took a small step forward as he wrang his hands nervously. "Even if I help you,
you will surely be caught within the labyrinth of the castle. IF you get through the castle,
you would have to lower the drawbridge which is neigh on to impossible. Therefore, I
want my payment first."
Spike and Xander looked at each other as they wondered what the boy would ask for.
Gold? Power upon the new King's ascent to the throne? Land? A title? Finally, as they
weeded through their speculation, it was Spike who growled out the question. "What?
What do you want?"
Andrew puffed up with a false bravado. He licked his lips and he swallowed hard refusing
to waste this opportunity on shame, embarrassment or even fear. "I want a good look. I
want Xander to drop his trousers and stand butt-arsed nekkid so's I can really see it."
Xander was shocked. Spike not so much. He had seen the unabashed lust and innocence
warring in the page's eyes whenever he was around the handsome prisoner and while it flew
in the face of Spike's ownership of his boy, it was little enough to pay. So, while Xander
wasted time sputtering and stuttering over the outrageous concept, Spike began the negotiation
in earnest. "Fine. One quick look."
Andrew crossed his skinny arms over his chest. "No. He pulls down his drawers down at
least past his thighs, he pulls his pecker out and I get down on my knees for a full two minutes."
Spike crossed his arms over his chest. "One minute and NO touching."
Spike gave a small conceding shrug. "Only with no physical contact. Your nose cannot
come into contact with his flesh."
Andrew mulled over the stipulations for only a moment before deciding that while they
were somewhat less than he would have preferred, they were certainly better than nothing.
His hand shot out for a contract sealing shake which Spike quickly accepted. "Done."
Protectively, Xander cupped his family jewels. "HEY! Wait a minute. Don't I have any say
In unison, both his companions answered, "No."
Immediately, and against Xander's swatting hands, Spike dove in and began fumbling with
the tied belt at Xander's waist. "Stop it. Stop it. I am not showing this little twerp my dick."
Softly, as Spike continued to untie the knot of hemp, he whispered into his lover's ear. "Shut
up and trust me. My demon still retains an influence over the elements of nature. Just go
along with me."
Reluctantly, and with a strong measure of trust. Xander let his arms fall to his sides as he
looked first into the yellow glow of his beast's eyes and then into the lascivious blue ones
as Andrew rubbed his palms together briskly and licked his lips. Then, something strange
began to happen. Although the hour was early, the light from the sun began to fade. Overlaid
by the huge round obliterating moon, the eclipsed sun grew dimmer and dimmer until, just
at the moment that Spike proclaimed, "Ta Daaaa!" The room was plunged into darkness.
As the precious moments passed, Andrew howled his protests and complained vehemently.
Even more so when the light was restored just in time to see the marvelous meaty
magnificence tucked safely away.
"NO FAIR!! NO FAIR!! I didn't get to see it!" Andrew stomped his feet and flung his
arms wildly in a tantrum befitting a child deprived of a pony ride.
Spike simply shrugged. "We have no sway over the powers of the Sun God. We upheld our
end of the deal and now you must do the same. When the guard enters, you must distract
him while the door remains open and the path clear so that we can make our escape. Will
you do it? Are you a man of your word, Andrew?"
Andrew scowled at the ugly face of the beast and yet, the finer points of his argument could
not be disputed. No human, not even one as twisted and deformed as this could give orders
to the sun, and yes, Andrew's mother had taught him to be a man of his word. Grudgingly,
he had to nod his head. "Fine, although I must say, I was hoping that if Xander ever screwed
me it would feel a whole lot better than this."
As Spike and Xander shared a snicker of conspiracy, Andrew stomped over to the door
and pounded his fist. "Guard!! Guard!! I am ready to take my leave. Open the door!"
Within seconds, the metal key turned in the lock. As it did so, Spike and Xander darted to
stand behind where it would swing inward on its creaking, un-oiled hinges and they dropped
to a ready crouch. Their eyes locked and before they could share or verbalize a plan
beyond flight or flight, the heavy slab of oak swung inward and Elmo appeared.
"Aaaa! What's with all of this straw? Why is it not gold? Andrew! What has happened
to... AAHHHH!!" Before Elmo could organize his thoughts into a compliance of
wrongs he was doused with a bucketful of warm, foul urine. It splashed into his eyes,
mouth, nose and dripped from his chin as he gagged and his stomach roiled.
"RUN!!!!!!" Andrew pitched the empty wooden pale toward the spinning wheel and he spun
on his heels as he rushed from the room confident that the other two men were directly behind him.
After that, all hell broke loose within the great stone walls of the castle. After a quick
recovery, Elmo's voice boomed throughout the tower summoning all the King's guards
while, hand in hand, Spike and Xander ran for their lives.
They parted ways with the page just outside the cell room before hurrying, single file down
the winding, circular, narrow steps that led from the tower to the upper level, clearing the
landing and ducking out of sight just before the sword bearers charged upwards.