Title: Puppy Love 1/50
Appropriate Ratings: NC17 overall but this chapter... PG13/R
Warnings: Slavery, nudity, nothing much.
Disclaimers: Not my characters. I make no money off this, I'm just playing. I promise to give them a bath and thorough cleaning when I’m done! Joss Whedon is my lord and Master. All hail Joss Whedon.
Short Summary: Hello puppy...
Word Count: 727 (As per MS Word Count)
X-posted to: perverted_pages, bloodclaim, btvs_lightsout btvs_slash, btvsatsdotcom, darker_spike, spike_fics, sxandviolence, spanderslash, darker_vault, sickchicks, spike_xander, xander_slash, i_need_a_parrot, all_fics_btvs, nekid_spike
Archived Outside LJ At: adultfanfiction.net, The Spander Files and My IJ Account
A.N. This is in response to the prompt table given to me by hawk_soaring. Thanks bunches again!
This fic won an award!
Comments keep my muse well fed.
He stalked through the large yet stuffy barn, barely looking at the merchandise on sale. He was bored with the selection of sickly humans displayed in each tiny stall; they were all either about to keel over or well worn around the edges, and that was never fun. He wanted something with a little bite to it, a little fire, and this months selection was severely lacking. All these demons insisted on well trained and often well bred stock, but because vampires so rarely bought anything at these auctions, they rarely had anything better suited to their tastes. It was a shame, really, Dru had been so insistant he find a puppy to bring home, and here he was disappointing her. Maybe he’d snatch her a toddler to make her feel better, or a shiny bauble or three from the shops.
He sighed to himself, black leather trench coat fanning out from him like black wings as he turned to make his way down the last row of stalls. He tossed a casual glance inside each tiny cell and moved on. The sight of so many humans kneeling and staring dully at the floor just made him wonder what all these different classes of demons saw in them. They were all so… easy, readily packaged and conditioned, no effort required. If you were going to get a slave you should at least break them in, seemed only logical, otherwise where was the fun?
He was nearing the end of the row and had stopped really seeing what was in the stalls, instead remembering the new mother he’d seen move into the motel down the street. She’d been ripe, and the infant had looked sweet, almost tender; a perfect consolation prize for his dark princess. He’d planned on offering them to Dru for their anniversary next month, but he could always find a different prize for that later. But just then something gleamed in the light of the converted barn, and it made him pause before the fourth last booth.
Shiny steel cuffs circled the human’s wrists and the chains leading from them held him immovably in place. He critically eyed the merchandise in front of him. The cuffs meant he hadn’t been trained not to run away yet, and that was a rarity at these auctions. He was kneeling with his thighs bound together with a thick leather strap, telling him this one was a virgin for penetration and his cock and balls were snugly kept in a codpiece. A true virgin then, such a rare delicacy was almost never found at these things. The full leather hood with built in ball gag cinched it for him; this nummy treat wasn’t even trained to properly address his superiors or to keep his gaze respectfully lowered. He was perfect.
Spike watched the leather balloon out around the breathing perforations at the nose with each lazy breath in and out. He stank of the sedatives he’d been forcibly injected with, and the heavy cloying scent of his desperation and fear filled that tiny cell, wafting out the open front to fill the narrow aisle. Dru should have told him to start from the end since she’d known he was here, would have saved him a few hours of tedium.
He picked up the clipboard inside his cell to see what merits and training this little tidbit had been given. Hrm… caught in Cleveland three days ago, and in all that time they only taught him how to get in and out of a cage. He looked at the demon type listed as capturing him, Vor’nock. He’d spent three days with the Vor’nock’s and all they managed to beat into him was to crawl into a doggy crate to get his kibble and gruel, he wondered idly if he was biting off more than he could chew. The Vor’nock were notorious for being harsh trainers, using pain liberally to hammer home their points in training. The fact that this human hadn’t broken beyond the crating stage was somewhat worrisome… but the fact that his dark plum had sent him here made that less so. He scribbled his bid at the bottom of the sheet, and leaned against the side of the booth, warning other potential bidders away.
This boy would be his, and no one was about to outbid him.
Chapter 2 - Collar
All parts found on this prompt chart or in my memories.