BR Chapter 11
Broken Revenge
Xander and Spike search for the Mother to Be in the Midwest slave shows.
Warning: Dom/sub
Betas: velvet_virago and shakatany
Previous chapters can be found HERE
As they left the room the next day, Xander was surprised at how different everything looked. The hallway that led to the rooms had been crowded with boxes and crates when they had gone to get their bags from the car the previous night, but now the only things crowding the passageways were a colorful variety of demons and their slaves.
At shows that he had been to first with Leshar and then Spike, Xander had seen very few body decorations. Most slaves had hip chains, plain metal links designed only to show off the slave's proper rolling gait. Jewels as costly as the ones Spike used to decorate him were fairly rare. Here, however, Xander fit right in with the others- some were so decked out that they looked like walking mannequins for exotic jewelers. Xander followed Spike down the stairs and out into a huge central room, where competition arenas were being set up.
They followed a blue skinned demon that was obviously the same species as Calsha down one side of the enormous room. At first glance Xander had thought it was Calsha, but then he noticed this demon was slightly smaller and a lighter shade of blue. Besides, the two beautiful slaves gliding behind this demon looked nothing like the football-player type that followed Calsha around. Both women were slender and graceful, and both were decorated in silver and blue jewels. One wore a complicated harness of silver bands that encircled her upper body, flashing with blue stones in set into the smooth metal. The taller one, a green-eyed woman had blue and silver rings woven all along her dark braid, which reached well past her waist. The silky length of it was emphasized by thin, blue ribbons woven into it that trailed down to the woman's knees.
Xander also noticed that most of the slaves here weren't leashed. A few wide-eyed humans with trembling bodies followed at the end of a chain, but most of the humans simply followed their masters, and it was perfectly obvious who their masters were just by the way their eyes followed one demon or another. Xander was impressed- clearly Leshar wasn't the only demon who produced well-trained slaves.
Spike skirted the competition area with its rings of half walls dividing the many different arenas. Xander knew they were heading straight for the auction area. As they passed groups of demons chatting with kneeling slaves at their feet, Xander could feel eyes turning toward him and Spike. Xander kept his back straight and his head bowed submissively as he pranced after Spike, who charged through the crowd with abandon.
Spike stopped only when he reached the first enclosure of humans. A Pylean stood to one side of a large pen holding several women, who stood or sat silently inside. Keeping his head bowed, Xander looked furtively up through his curtain of hair at the demon, searching his memory so that he could compare this face against the one from his nightmare. But the more he tried to remember that day, the more his memories slithered away from him. Even Leshar's face dissolved into a blur in his mind as he struggled to remember the day, and the more he struggled, the more a fog distorted the faces from the dream.
He and Spike had worked out a system of signals so that Xander could discreetly let Spike know whether or not they had found the right dealer with the right woman, but now Xander realized he had no way of quietly telling Spike that he had no idea. Hopefully Spike knew him well enough to figure out that the lack of signalage meant Xander had gone clueless. Not exactly a new state for him.
Xander focused on his body, checking his posture and straightening his back as a familiar dread started crawling up his backbone. What if he couldn't find her… worse, what if he couldn't even remember her? Xander focused on his breathing to control the tugs of panic that made him fight to keep his cool. He'd failed so many people, he couldn't fail her. She didn't have anyone else.
"You looking?" the demon asked in a dismissive tone, and Xander focused on a green leg as he struggled to pull himself out of that dark place his mind sometimes wandered.
"Maybe, course if you're goin' to be all pissy about it, maybe not," Spike snapped. Strong hands caressed Xander's hair, and the sudden anchor and sense of belonging left Xander close to tears, and yeah, he really was a basket case. He wondered if Spike's treasure trove was even enough to cover the therapy he needed. Maybe he and Willow and Giles could get some sort of group discount for the truly fucked up. Now Xander struggled with a growing bubble of laughter at the thought of a psychiatrist trying to untangle their psyches. The therapist would need therapy. The therapist giving the therapist therapy would need therapy.
"I've run a clean stable for going on 40 years. If you're looking for stock to abuse, keep on walking, vampire," the Pylean answered after a long pause. Xander assumed his Master and the trainer were doing some quality glaring, but he wasn't about to look up and check.
"Oi, my pet look abused to you?"
"He the beast that stabbed Leshar?" Xander was proud of himself for not shivering at that tone of voice.
"He followed orders when somebody tried to take him away. Innit what you expected a trained slave to do... follow orders?"
"I reckon those just aren't very conventional orders to give," the demon answered quickly. Xander tried ignoring the growing knot in his stomach… the one that told him to get into a fighting stance at that tone of voice. However, Xander knelt quietly through the exchange, and just when he thought Spike was about to lose his temper, Spike snorted and began walking away. Xander guessed that flippage of fingers had probably happened, but he rose to follow gracefully despite his Master's bad manners.
"Arrogant bastard," Spike said once they had rejoined the crowds wandering from one slave pen to another. Spike had explained that they couldn't afford to look like they were searching for anyone in particular, so Xander wasn't surprised when Spike stopped to lean against a fence and gaze over the stock being offered by a mountain of a demon. None of the women had red hair, and none came even close to matching the vague and disturbingly indistinct memory in Xander's mind. So after a quick glance at the slaves, Xander concentrated on Spike.
His white knight heart was breaking at the sight of all the humans caged and trapped and treated like animals. But he didn't have the power to help them, and Spike was not big with the doing of good deeds. He protected his Hellmouth and his humans, but he wasn't ever going to challenge Angel for the title of champion.
Despite his attempts to avoid looking, Xander did. It was a little bit like watching an accident on the side of the road. Xander didn't want to see this; he really, really didn't want to see this. And yet, he found himself continually glancing out the corner of his eyes at these people.
The pen Spike was leaning against had four females and two males, and the only decoration any of them wore was the required pouch and harness around the males' genitals. Three of the women sat on the floor talking quietly, and the fourth one, a girl who didn't even look old enough to drive yet, lay curled on the floor with her head in the lap of an older woman. Gently as a mother, she was stroking the girl's hair hair softly. One of the males walked over and squatted down to whisper something. Whatever he said, the four women laughed so quietly as to barely make any sound at all.
This looked so normal that it somehow bothered Xander. At the West Coast auctions the crying and fighting and begging slaves meant that no one could forget the horrors. This place had a creepy Stepford Wives kind of vibe going. And really? That sort of everything's perfect "Ted" kind of thing wasn't of the good. A strange voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Looking for a breeder? Got good stock, guaranteed no plastic surgery, and all of it bred in-house. No captured stock. In fact, the youngest girl there is two generations out of Darkboy who was owned by old Bilc't. Good lines, good training. You won't find better stock." The raspy voice smoothly ran through what was obviously a well-rehearsed sales pitch.
"Lookin' for something a little older," Spike said.
"You've got to understand, these aren't free range humans. You pick up a human off the street, and you're getting some inferior product," this demon offered in the same wheedling tone of voice Uncle Rory had used to get Xander to buy his junker of a car. "Lack of natural selection and junk food are quickly destroying the bloodlines out there. But these animals have been bred for at least four generations. The taller male there, eighth generation. You can breed them earlier, and they rarely go down to the diseases or defects so regrettably common in the free-range stock."
"Rather fond of the free-range sort myself," Spike answered. Xander felt a familiar hand reached out to stroke his hair. He risked breaking form just enough to lean a little into the touch. Having someone talk about him like that… yeah, Ted-level creepy.
"So that's the Hellmouth boy that Leshar keeps talking about," the demon said, and Xander was suddenly uncomfortable with just how interested that voice sounded. From the way Spike's hand suddenly stilled in his hair, Xander obviously wasn't the only one getting the creepies.
"He's not for sale," Spike growled. Xander had the sensation of something heavy moving away, but he kept his gaze lowered.
"Not a problem. I don't normally buy the free range beasts, especially the stallions, but have you given any thought to renting out his services? Some of his get could fetch a pretty penny."
"Not interested." Without a word of farewell, Spike pushed away from the fence and started walking. Face carefully controlled to mask his relief, Xander flowed to his feet and followed after, his belled anklet jingling every time his right foot hit the ground.
Xander followed Spike to several enclosures where the owners ranged from friendly to hostile to interested in buying Xander. But when Spike stopped next to yet another fence, Xander could immediately see the difference. Xander went to his knees in proper form, but before he did, he noticed the tall chain-link fence. Most trainers at this show used low bars that clearly told the slaves to stay within a certain area even though they could easily get out. Not that getting out would do them any good, but still. Xander knew that if those fences had been used at the previous shows he'd been to, panicked humans would have been running all over the place. Xander knew better than anyone that fear made any action, even a stupid one, better than no action.
When a Pylean came out, Xander found himself taking shallow panicky breaths. Yeah, all Pylean demons had red eyes, but this one's eyes were the very red of hell. Or maybe that was just Xander's imagination because he recognized this demon. Its face was more rounded than the other Pylean, his horns longer and the wrinkles at the base of his horns deeper. Xander flashed on an image of this particular Pylean laughing. He ducked his head so that the demon couldn't see his face, giving Spike the signal that they had found the right slaver. Spike's only reaction was to run his fingers to Xander's hair, and Xander focused on that real feeling to try to escape the phantom coldness of a breeding leash looped around his thighs.
"Move on. I'm not interested in selling to you, vampire," the demon said as he walked over to them. The voice. Xander remembered that voice. The sight and sound of this particular demon sent Xander's world tilting off-kilter. The image of the girl exposed, terrified, her eyes pleading with him: that image rose in his mind no matter how much he tried to fight it off. Glancing through the metal mesh of the fence, he could see red hair. One girl stood on the edge of a cluster of slaves. Xander trembled. Her stomach had just a slight roundness to it.
"Too bad." Spike's voice sounded indifferent, but the way Spike gently bounced one of his legs revealed the truth. Xander tried focusing on that instead of on his own fragmented memory that pushed in on him until he wanted to scream. Okay, maybe curl up in Spike's lap came closer to the truth, but for the sake of his manhood, he was going with the scream. A sharp tug on one of his curls pulled him back toward reality.
"I've got money to invest in one or two free range humans, but if you aren't interested, mate..." Spike let his words trail off as he started to walk away. Xander rose to follow even as he felt the panic rising in his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. For several seconds nothing happened, and Spike slowed down as he considered the stock inside an open fence on the opposite side.
"Not likely to sell to vampire, now am I?" The demon finally called as he stepped forward into Spike's path. Out of the corner of his eye, Xander caught a glimpse of the demon putting both of his hands on Spike's chest before he gave a push. Xander backed up to get out of the range of the fight that was about to break out, but Spike just looked at the demon calmly.
"Your loss, mate. But if you ever soddin' touch me like that again, don't expect to survive." Spike detoured around the demon with Xander in tow, and Xander was torn between his need to get away from the slaver and a need to find the woman. After what he'd done to her, he couldn't leave her.
Xander's panic had nearly reached that point of doing anything just for the sake of doing something when Spike sat on the bench along the outside wall. Xander sank to his knees, body trembling as his breath hitched in short gasps. He couldn't even say exactly what he was feeling, the now sharp-edged shards of memories cutting through his panic and stirring up emotions he couldn't even begin to name. Spike's hand ran through his curls before pulling Xander's head to rest on his Master's knee. Xander focused on the shop set up on the opposite side of the corridor from the bench. The small structure had a front glass window displaying any number of slave decorations.
"Pet," Spike said softly, and then a cool hand pressed something dry and crinkly to his chest. Xander looked down and to see a corner of white sticking out from Spike's hand as it rested there above his tattoo. Xander reached up and took the slip of paper. Opening it, Xander saw a series of rapidly scratched lines and squiggles that made his handwriting look neat. He looked up at Spike in confusion.
"He don't want ta be seen sellin' me a female. That," Spike nodded toward the slip of paper as he spoke in a near whisper, "tells me to come back after hours and discuss a price." Xander looked down at the cryptic slip of paper in his hands, and relief washed through him. Oh god, there was a chance after all. Yeah, she was probably going to kick his ass for the whole rape thing, and he was so not going to argue with her about that, but he was going to save her. They were going to save her. They were going to save his child. Child. Wow. Xander looked up at Spike and smiled even as he blinked back tears.
"My bloody white knight. You didn't think I'd leave without her, did ya?" Spike asked in an over-exaggerated tone of outrage.
"No, Master. I knew you wouldn't," Xander answered honestly as he handed the paper back. Spike quickly slipped it into a coat pocket before returning to stroke Xander's hair.
"So, we can go sit in our room for the day or find somethin' to amuse ourselves," Spike said as he looked at the crowds passing them by without a glance. Xander knew which one Spike wanted to do, but he hadn't been asked a question, so he just waited.
"Well?" Spike asked with a familiar tug.
"Maybe we should look around, Master," Xander answered.
"Yeah, thought you might like that." Spike stood up and started toward the competition area, and Xander followed, all tinkling bells and swinging hips and he so didn't care, becauce he was going to be a father. Of course he might want to stop tinkling and swinging before walking the kid to kindergarten, but still. Him. A father. Xander felt something that he could only describe as awe fill his heart.
Xander followed Spike past various arenas until they reached a particularly large circle defined by a half wall. When Spike stopped and leaned against a post, Xander gracefully slipped to his knees and watched the action from beneath his curling bangs.
Two slaves stood balanced on the ends of uneven posts that were placed randomly around the inside of the circular half wall. One was a woman with dark skin rippling over strong thigh muscles. The woman had one foot solidly placed on a low post, and her second foot resting lightly on a post two feet away and a good twelve inches higher. Her long hair hung over her shoulder in two thick braids, and a chain went from the harness she wore to the harness on the second slave.
The second slave was a thick-waisted man with a snake tattoo slithering down his leg. He had both feet planted solidly on posts that were roughly the same height. His knees were bent slightly, and from the back, Xander could see the slave's hands flexing in leather bindings. Xander was still trying to figure out the game when the woman moved.
Without warning, she threw herself backwards to a new post. The chain between them snapped taut, and Xander could see the male bracing himself against the pull as he threw his weight back against the harness. The woman reached the end of the chain without reaching the post, and Xander thought she would fall. Instead she twisted her body in midair so that she found a new footing. Using the chain to help keep her balance, she writhed in an effort to regain her balance, and the man chose that moment to strike.
He dashed forward toward the woman. As the chain went slack, the woman started falling. She turned that into a jump and went for the next post. The man continued charging toward her, and she lept unsteadily from one post to another with him in pursuit. Near the far side of the circle, her foot slipped, and she had to stop to catch her balance. That moment gave the man a chance to catch up.
Xander could now see that both slaves had their hands tied behind their backs, but that didn't stop the man from driving a shoulder into the woman's back, sending her jumping for the next set of posts. Her foot didn't quite reach the post, and Xander could hear the crack as she fell to the sandy ground right after slamming her knee into the top of the post. The watching crowd roared with approval.
The man immediately dropped off his own post, going to his knees as two trainers hurried into the ring. On stepped to the man and slipped the chain from his harness before leading him off. The second demon, a vaguely cat-shaped creature with sharp yellow eyes, held the woman down by her shoulder as he ran a long clawed fingers over the leg that had made such a spectacular cracking sound against the wood. After a moment, the cat-demon gave a huffing grunt, and took the lead chain in hand as he led the limping slave to the opening on the opposite side of the wall.
"Well, pet?" Spike drawled quietly. Xander considered the ring. It would take balance and coordination. He felt a faint stirring in his chest that Spike would trust him at such a game. He wasn't sure, but he thought it might be pride.
"Yes, please, Master," Xander said as he leaned his shoulder into Spike's knee. He knew that the demons would judge Spike on his performance. When Spike started walking toward one side of the arena, Xander flowed sensuously to his feet and trailed behind with his head properly bowed and his hip chains dancing against his legs.
"I'm enterin' my pet, here," Spike announced to the grey-skinned demon at end of a line of three slaves in harnesses chained to a horizontal pole. Xander knelt at his Master's side, careful to keep perfect form under the eyes of so many demons.
"Lose the decorations," the demon clicked a brusque answer, and Xander wondered whether the demon talked that way to everyone or whether the demon was just insulting Spike. Either way, Spike didn't even comment. Spike gestured, and Xander stood as strong fingers removed his arm bands and hip chains and finally the draping chains from his back. Xander knew that he couldn't wear decorations in the ring, and he didn't want to risk damaging his valued possessions, but he still couldn't help the fluttering in his stomach at losing the soothing touch of the chains and leather against his skin. Ironically, Spike left the damn bells around his ankle, but then those bells amused Spike far more than Xander.
Xander jumped in surprise when a dry scaly hand landed on his shoulder before the trainer started buckling on the competition harness quickly and efficiently. Eventually the chain would be attached to the metal ring in the center of his chest, and leather straps around his chest and shoulders ensured that the ring didn't move. Keeping his head down and his hands at the small of his back, Xander watched Spike move away still carrying the decorations. By the time Spike had reached the column and turned to watch, the demon trainer had strapped his wrists into wide leather bands behind his back and was pulling to make sure the bands were tight.
When the demon was satisfied, he reached up to chains hanging from the horizontal pole, and clipped a fastener to the ring on Xander's harness. A slap on Xander's butt made him move up to the other three waiting slaves, the chain sliding on the pole as he walked.
Because he was so far back, Xander couldn't really see the ring or the competition on the other side. He did however, have a great view of Spike who stood at the pillar with bored eyes. Every once in a while, those blue eyes would glance over to him. Xander could feel his skin warm every time Spike glanced at him, and he would have thought it was a pure accident except that Spike then started working his tongue so that the sideways glance came with a smirk that sharpened his cheeks with flash of tongue between the lips. Xander had thought it was bad when Spike would tease him in bed, but this was near torture. He could only stand perfectly still and watch as Spike's hand slipped into the duster. Xander could imagine exactly what Spike's hand would be doing in there. His fingers almost itched with the need to touch.
His lewd daydreams were interrupted by the exclamations of the crowd. The trainer passed him before unclipping the first slave and leading him to the ring. Xander shifted to his other foot, unused to standing for long periods of time. Unfortunately that led him to bump the slave who had been added to the line behind him, and that slave obviously took exception, bumping back rather forcefully. Xander smiled an apology to the woman in front of him who he hit in turn, glancing behind him to silently explain the problem. The woman in front looked over her shoulder with a small smile of forgiveness. The heavy-set slave behind him, however, frowned in a way that suggested he wasn't going to let it go so easily.
As the line settled into waiting again, Xander returned his attention to Spike who still had his hand under the duster. Xander half closed his eyes as he imagined Spike's hand on his body, which actually made the frustration worse, especially since the pouch he wore had very little room for him to show any interest in that way.
Spike smiled wickedly, his mouth coming open in a laugh even if Xander couldn't hear it. Xander allowed his expression to turn into a glare for a half second before he counter-attacked. Rolling his hips slowly as though hearing music, Xander watched as Spike's eyes flashed yellow. Xander lowered his eyes and tilted his head just slightly so he could watch his Master, who stared as Xander shifted his weight in small seductive waves rippling from his shoulders all the way down to his knees. Turning, Xander presented his Master with his near-naked backside as he combined the hip roll with the full body undulation.
He lost the pattern as the crowd cheered again, and Xander turned back to find Spike looking particularly frustrated. He smiled sweetly when Spike glanced his way, and the vampire lowered his eyebrows even more. Xander remembered the days when he had half feared and half resented the way Spike took what he wanted. He hated that Spike chased Buffy with abandon. He feared that when the chip came out that Spike would hunt him down and torture him with the same dedication. Now, he smiled even more sweetly at the idea that as soon he finished, his Master was going to nail him to the nearest flat surface.
Xander traded in the hip motions for slow shoulder rolls. Once again, the calls of the crowd interrupted his attempts to torture his Master. The trainer appeared again and unhooked the woman in front of him. This time, Xander had an unobstructed view as the trainer led her to the center of the ring, having to dodge the posts to get to a small open space in the center. She knelt at the trainer's side as the cat-demon brought a woman from the other side of the ring. The cat demon held a chain in one hand, and when her slave knelt, the cat demon attached one end of the chain before handing over the other end for the second trainer to attach.
Each demon bent over and said something to the woman at his feet. As the women stood, they glanced at each other before taking a position next to a post. Each demon picked up a slave and put her on the post of her choice before retreating out of the ring. Xander watched at the two women lightly jumped from one post to another without making any attempt to actually dislodge each other. The two seemed like they were engaged in some sort of dance, and their physical similarities with fair skin and light hair reinforced the image. As Xander watched the two women circle each other, his eyes fell on the harnessed slave standing at the far side of the circle.
His heart nearly stopped when he saw the corded muscles and thick legs of the slave waiting to kick Xander's butt. Xander felt as though the room suddenly had no air in it as he struggled to get oxygen into his panicking, screaming lungs. Glancing over toward Spike, Xander felt guilt rise in a tide as he realized that he could never take the brute, and Spike would be the one who looked like a fool. Okay, he'd look like a fool too, but he'd had years of training for that. It was called high school.
When his eyes found his Master's gaze, the lewd expression had disappeared under a cool indifference that left Xander both confused as well as panicked. Didn't Spike care that he was about to get his butt kicked and humiliate both of them? Oh god. Some days he really didn't understand his Master. Unfortunately, chained and harnessed the way he was, he really didn't have a lot of options.
Next chapter out Monday, 12-5
Xander and Spike search for the Mother to Be in the Midwest slave shows.
Warning: Dom/sub
Betas: velvet_virago and shakatany
Previous chapters can be found HERE
As they left the room the next day, Xander was surprised at how different everything looked. The hallway that led to the rooms had been crowded with boxes and crates when they had gone to get their bags from the car the previous night, but now the only things crowding the passageways were a colorful variety of demons and their slaves.
At shows that he had been to first with Leshar and then Spike, Xander had seen very few body decorations. Most slaves had hip chains, plain metal links designed only to show off the slave's proper rolling gait. Jewels as costly as the ones Spike used to decorate him were fairly rare. Here, however, Xander fit right in with the others- some were so decked out that they looked like walking mannequins for exotic jewelers. Xander followed Spike down the stairs and out into a huge central room, where competition arenas were being set up.
They followed a blue skinned demon that was obviously the same species as Calsha down one side of the enormous room. At first glance Xander had thought it was Calsha, but then he noticed this demon was slightly smaller and a lighter shade of blue. Besides, the two beautiful slaves gliding behind this demon looked nothing like the football-player type that followed Calsha around. Both women were slender and graceful, and both were decorated in silver and blue jewels. One wore a complicated harness of silver bands that encircled her upper body, flashing with blue stones in set into the smooth metal. The taller one, a green-eyed woman had blue and silver rings woven all along her dark braid, which reached well past her waist. The silky length of it was emphasized by thin, blue ribbons woven into it that trailed down to the woman's knees.
Xander also noticed that most of the slaves here weren't leashed. A few wide-eyed humans with trembling bodies followed at the end of a chain, but most of the humans simply followed their masters, and it was perfectly obvious who their masters were just by the way their eyes followed one demon or another. Xander was impressed- clearly Leshar wasn't the only demon who produced well-trained slaves.
Spike skirted the competition area with its rings of half walls dividing the many different arenas. Xander knew they were heading straight for the auction area. As they passed groups of demons chatting with kneeling slaves at their feet, Xander could feel eyes turning toward him and Spike. Xander kept his back straight and his head bowed submissively as he pranced after Spike, who charged through the crowd with abandon.
Spike stopped only when he reached the first enclosure of humans. A Pylean stood to one side of a large pen holding several women, who stood or sat silently inside. Keeping his head bowed, Xander looked furtively up through his curtain of hair at the demon, searching his memory so that he could compare this face against the one from his nightmare. But the more he tried to remember that day, the more his memories slithered away from him. Even Leshar's face dissolved into a blur in his mind as he struggled to remember the day, and the more he struggled, the more a fog distorted the faces from the dream.
He and Spike had worked out a system of signals so that Xander could discreetly let Spike know whether or not they had found the right dealer with the right woman, but now Xander realized he had no way of quietly telling Spike that he had no idea. Hopefully Spike knew him well enough to figure out that the lack of signalage meant Xander had gone clueless. Not exactly a new state for him.
Xander focused on his body, checking his posture and straightening his back as a familiar dread started crawling up his backbone. What if he couldn't find her… worse, what if he couldn't even remember her? Xander focused on his breathing to control the tugs of panic that made him fight to keep his cool. He'd failed so many people, he couldn't fail her. She didn't have anyone else.
"You looking?" the demon asked in a dismissive tone, and Xander focused on a green leg as he struggled to pull himself out of that dark place his mind sometimes wandered.
"Maybe, course if you're goin' to be all pissy about it, maybe not," Spike snapped. Strong hands caressed Xander's hair, and the sudden anchor and sense of belonging left Xander close to tears, and yeah, he really was a basket case. He wondered if Spike's treasure trove was even enough to cover the therapy he needed. Maybe he and Willow and Giles could get some sort of group discount for the truly fucked up. Now Xander struggled with a growing bubble of laughter at the thought of a psychiatrist trying to untangle their psyches. The therapist would need therapy. The therapist giving the therapist therapy would need therapy.
"I've run a clean stable for going on 40 years. If you're looking for stock to abuse, keep on walking, vampire," the Pylean answered after a long pause. Xander assumed his Master and the trainer were doing some quality glaring, but he wasn't about to look up and check.
"Oi, my pet look abused to you?"
"He the beast that stabbed Leshar?" Xander was proud of himself for not shivering at that tone of voice.
"He followed orders when somebody tried to take him away. Innit what you expected a trained slave to do... follow orders?"
"I reckon those just aren't very conventional orders to give," the demon answered quickly. Xander tried ignoring the growing knot in his stomach… the one that told him to get into a fighting stance at that tone of voice. However, Xander knelt quietly through the exchange, and just when he thought Spike was about to lose his temper, Spike snorted and began walking away. Xander guessed that flippage of fingers had probably happened, but he rose to follow gracefully despite his Master's bad manners.
"Arrogant bastard," Spike said once they had rejoined the crowds wandering from one slave pen to another. Spike had explained that they couldn't afford to look like they were searching for anyone in particular, so Xander wasn't surprised when Spike stopped to lean against a fence and gaze over the stock being offered by a mountain of a demon. None of the women had red hair, and none came even close to matching the vague and disturbingly indistinct memory in Xander's mind. So after a quick glance at the slaves, Xander concentrated on Spike.
His white knight heart was breaking at the sight of all the humans caged and trapped and treated like animals. But he didn't have the power to help them, and Spike was not big with the doing of good deeds. He protected his Hellmouth and his humans, but he wasn't ever going to challenge Angel for the title of champion.
Despite his attempts to avoid looking, Xander did. It was a little bit like watching an accident on the side of the road. Xander didn't want to see this; he really, really didn't want to see this. And yet, he found himself continually glancing out the corner of his eyes at these people.
The pen Spike was leaning against had four females and two males, and the only decoration any of them wore was the required pouch and harness around the males' genitals. Three of the women sat on the floor talking quietly, and the fourth one, a girl who didn't even look old enough to drive yet, lay curled on the floor with her head in the lap of an older woman. Gently as a mother, she was stroking the girl's hair hair softly. One of the males walked over and squatted down to whisper something. Whatever he said, the four women laughed so quietly as to barely make any sound at all.
This looked so normal that it somehow bothered Xander. At the West Coast auctions the crying and fighting and begging slaves meant that no one could forget the horrors. This place had a creepy Stepford Wives kind of vibe going. And really? That sort of everything's perfect "Ted" kind of thing wasn't of the good. A strange voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Looking for a breeder? Got good stock, guaranteed no plastic surgery, and all of it bred in-house. No captured stock. In fact, the youngest girl there is two generations out of Darkboy who was owned by old Bilc't. Good lines, good training. You won't find better stock." The raspy voice smoothly ran through what was obviously a well-rehearsed sales pitch.
"Lookin' for something a little older," Spike said.
"You've got to understand, these aren't free range humans. You pick up a human off the street, and you're getting some inferior product," this demon offered in the same wheedling tone of voice Uncle Rory had used to get Xander to buy his junker of a car. "Lack of natural selection and junk food are quickly destroying the bloodlines out there. But these animals have been bred for at least four generations. The taller male there, eighth generation. You can breed them earlier, and they rarely go down to the diseases or defects so regrettably common in the free-range stock."
"Rather fond of the free-range sort myself," Spike answered. Xander felt a familiar hand reached out to stroke his hair. He risked breaking form just enough to lean a little into the touch. Having someone talk about him like that… yeah, Ted-level creepy.
"So that's the Hellmouth boy that Leshar keeps talking about," the demon said, and Xander was suddenly uncomfortable with just how interested that voice sounded. From the way Spike's hand suddenly stilled in his hair, Xander obviously wasn't the only one getting the creepies.
"He's not for sale," Spike growled. Xander had the sensation of something heavy moving away, but he kept his gaze lowered.
"Not a problem. I don't normally buy the free range beasts, especially the stallions, but have you given any thought to renting out his services? Some of his get could fetch a pretty penny."
"Not interested." Without a word of farewell, Spike pushed away from the fence and started walking. Face carefully controlled to mask his relief, Xander flowed to his feet and followed after, his belled anklet jingling every time his right foot hit the ground.
Xander followed Spike to several enclosures where the owners ranged from friendly to hostile to interested in buying Xander. But when Spike stopped next to yet another fence, Xander could immediately see the difference. Xander went to his knees in proper form, but before he did, he noticed the tall chain-link fence. Most trainers at this show used low bars that clearly told the slaves to stay within a certain area even though they could easily get out. Not that getting out would do them any good, but still. Xander knew that if those fences had been used at the previous shows he'd been to, panicked humans would have been running all over the place. Xander knew better than anyone that fear made any action, even a stupid one, better than no action.
When a Pylean came out, Xander found himself taking shallow panicky breaths. Yeah, all Pylean demons had red eyes, but this one's eyes were the very red of hell. Or maybe that was just Xander's imagination because he recognized this demon. Its face was more rounded than the other Pylean, his horns longer and the wrinkles at the base of his horns deeper. Xander flashed on an image of this particular Pylean laughing. He ducked his head so that the demon couldn't see his face, giving Spike the signal that they had found the right slaver. Spike's only reaction was to run his fingers to Xander's hair, and Xander focused on that real feeling to try to escape the phantom coldness of a breeding leash looped around his thighs.
"Move on. I'm not interested in selling to you, vampire," the demon said as he walked over to them. The voice. Xander remembered that voice. The sight and sound of this particular demon sent Xander's world tilting off-kilter. The image of the girl exposed, terrified, her eyes pleading with him: that image rose in his mind no matter how much he tried to fight it off. Glancing through the metal mesh of the fence, he could see red hair. One girl stood on the edge of a cluster of slaves. Xander trembled. Her stomach had just a slight roundness to it.
"Too bad." Spike's voice sounded indifferent, but the way Spike gently bounced one of his legs revealed the truth. Xander tried focusing on that instead of on his own fragmented memory that pushed in on him until he wanted to scream. Okay, maybe curl up in Spike's lap came closer to the truth, but for the sake of his manhood, he was going with the scream. A sharp tug on one of his curls pulled him back toward reality.
"I've got money to invest in one or two free range humans, but if you aren't interested, mate..." Spike let his words trail off as he started to walk away. Xander rose to follow even as he felt the panic rising in his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. For several seconds nothing happened, and Spike slowed down as he considered the stock inside an open fence on the opposite side.
"Not likely to sell to vampire, now am I?" The demon finally called as he stepped forward into Spike's path. Out of the corner of his eye, Xander caught a glimpse of the demon putting both of his hands on Spike's chest before he gave a push. Xander backed up to get out of the range of the fight that was about to break out, but Spike just looked at the demon calmly.
"Your loss, mate. But if you ever soddin' touch me like that again, don't expect to survive." Spike detoured around the demon with Xander in tow, and Xander was torn between his need to get away from the slaver and a need to find the woman. After what he'd done to her, he couldn't leave her.
Xander's panic had nearly reached that point of doing anything just for the sake of doing something when Spike sat on the bench along the outside wall. Xander sank to his knees, body trembling as his breath hitched in short gasps. He couldn't even say exactly what he was feeling, the now sharp-edged shards of memories cutting through his panic and stirring up emotions he couldn't even begin to name. Spike's hand ran through his curls before pulling Xander's head to rest on his Master's knee. Xander focused on the shop set up on the opposite side of the corridor from the bench. The small structure had a front glass window displaying any number of slave decorations.
"Pet," Spike said softly, and then a cool hand pressed something dry and crinkly to his chest. Xander looked down and to see a corner of white sticking out from Spike's hand as it rested there above his tattoo. Xander reached up and took the slip of paper. Opening it, Xander saw a series of rapidly scratched lines and squiggles that made his handwriting look neat. He looked up at Spike in confusion.
"He don't want ta be seen sellin' me a female. That," Spike nodded toward the slip of paper as he spoke in a near whisper, "tells me to come back after hours and discuss a price." Xander looked down at the cryptic slip of paper in his hands, and relief washed through him. Oh god, there was a chance after all. Yeah, she was probably going to kick his ass for the whole rape thing, and he was so not going to argue with her about that, but he was going to save her. They were going to save her. They were going to save his child. Child. Wow. Xander looked up at Spike and smiled even as he blinked back tears.
"My bloody white knight. You didn't think I'd leave without her, did ya?" Spike asked in an over-exaggerated tone of outrage.
"No, Master. I knew you wouldn't," Xander answered honestly as he handed the paper back. Spike quickly slipped it into a coat pocket before returning to stroke Xander's hair.
"So, we can go sit in our room for the day or find somethin' to amuse ourselves," Spike said as he looked at the crowds passing them by without a glance. Xander knew which one Spike wanted to do, but he hadn't been asked a question, so he just waited.
"Well?" Spike asked with a familiar tug.
"Maybe we should look around, Master," Xander answered.
"Yeah, thought you might like that." Spike stood up and started toward the competition area, and Xander followed, all tinkling bells and swinging hips and he so didn't care, becauce he was going to be a father. Of course he might want to stop tinkling and swinging before walking the kid to kindergarten, but still. Him. A father. Xander felt something that he could only describe as awe fill his heart.
Xander followed Spike past various arenas until they reached a particularly large circle defined by a half wall. When Spike stopped and leaned against a post, Xander gracefully slipped to his knees and watched the action from beneath his curling bangs.
Two slaves stood balanced on the ends of uneven posts that were placed randomly around the inside of the circular half wall. One was a woman with dark skin rippling over strong thigh muscles. The woman had one foot solidly placed on a low post, and her second foot resting lightly on a post two feet away and a good twelve inches higher. Her long hair hung over her shoulder in two thick braids, and a chain went from the harness she wore to the harness on the second slave.
The second slave was a thick-waisted man with a snake tattoo slithering down his leg. He had both feet planted solidly on posts that were roughly the same height. His knees were bent slightly, and from the back, Xander could see the slave's hands flexing in leather bindings. Xander was still trying to figure out the game when the woman moved.
Without warning, she threw herself backwards to a new post. The chain between them snapped taut, and Xander could see the male bracing himself against the pull as he threw his weight back against the harness. The woman reached the end of the chain without reaching the post, and Xander thought she would fall. Instead she twisted her body in midair so that she found a new footing. Using the chain to help keep her balance, she writhed in an effort to regain her balance, and the man chose that moment to strike.
He dashed forward toward the woman. As the chain went slack, the woman started falling. She turned that into a jump and went for the next post. The man continued charging toward her, and she lept unsteadily from one post to another with him in pursuit. Near the far side of the circle, her foot slipped, and she had to stop to catch her balance. That moment gave the man a chance to catch up.
Xander could now see that both slaves had their hands tied behind their backs, but that didn't stop the man from driving a shoulder into the woman's back, sending her jumping for the next set of posts. Her foot didn't quite reach the post, and Xander could hear the crack as she fell to the sandy ground right after slamming her knee into the top of the post. The watching crowd roared with approval.
The man immediately dropped off his own post, going to his knees as two trainers hurried into the ring. On stepped to the man and slipped the chain from his harness before leading him off. The second demon, a vaguely cat-shaped creature with sharp yellow eyes, held the woman down by her shoulder as he ran a long clawed fingers over the leg that had made such a spectacular cracking sound against the wood. After a moment, the cat-demon gave a huffing grunt, and took the lead chain in hand as he led the limping slave to the opening on the opposite side of the wall.
"Well, pet?" Spike drawled quietly. Xander considered the ring. It would take balance and coordination. He felt a faint stirring in his chest that Spike would trust him at such a game. He wasn't sure, but he thought it might be pride.
"Yes, please, Master," Xander said as he leaned his shoulder into Spike's knee. He knew that the demons would judge Spike on his performance. When Spike started walking toward one side of the arena, Xander flowed sensuously to his feet and trailed behind with his head properly bowed and his hip chains dancing against his legs.
"I'm enterin' my pet, here," Spike announced to the grey-skinned demon at end of a line of three slaves in harnesses chained to a horizontal pole. Xander knelt at his Master's side, careful to keep perfect form under the eyes of so many demons.
"Lose the decorations," the demon clicked a brusque answer, and Xander wondered whether the demon talked that way to everyone or whether the demon was just insulting Spike. Either way, Spike didn't even comment. Spike gestured, and Xander stood as strong fingers removed his arm bands and hip chains and finally the draping chains from his back. Xander knew that he couldn't wear decorations in the ring, and he didn't want to risk damaging his valued possessions, but he still couldn't help the fluttering in his stomach at losing the soothing touch of the chains and leather against his skin. Ironically, Spike left the damn bells around his ankle, but then those bells amused Spike far more than Xander.
Xander jumped in surprise when a dry scaly hand landed on his shoulder before the trainer started buckling on the competition harness quickly and efficiently. Eventually the chain would be attached to the metal ring in the center of his chest, and leather straps around his chest and shoulders ensured that the ring didn't move. Keeping his head down and his hands at the small of his back, Xander watched Spike move away still carrying the decorations. By the time Spike had reached the column and turned to watch, the demon trainer had strapped his wrists into wide leather bands behind his back and was pulling to make sure the bands were tight.
When the demon was satisfied, he reached up to chains hanging from the horizontal pole, and clipped a fastener to the ring on Xander's harness. A slap on Xander's butt made him move up to the other three waiting slaves, the chain sliding on the pole as he walked.
Because he was so far back, Xander couldn't really see the ring or the competition on the other side. He did however, have a great view of Spike who stood at the pillar with bored eyes. Every once in a while, those blue eyes would glance over to him. Xander could feel his skin warm every time Spike glanced at him, and he would have thought it was a pure accident except that Spike then started working his tongue so that the sideways glance came with a smirk that sharpened his cheeks with flash of tongue between the lips. Xander had thought it was bad when Spike would tease him in bed, but this was near torture. He could only stand perfectly still and watch as Spike's hand slipped into the duster. Xander could imagine exactly what Spike's hand would be doing in there. His fingers almost itched with the need to touch.
His lewd daydreams were interrupted by the exclamations of the crowd. The trainer passed him before unclipping the first slave and leading him to the ring. Xander shifted to his other foot, unused to standing for long periods of time. Unfortunately that led him to bump the slave who had been added to the line behind him, and that slave obviously took exception, bumping back rather forcefully. Xander smiled an apology to the woman in front of him who he hit in turn, glancing behind him to silently explain the problem. The woman in front looked over her shoulder with a small smile of forgiveness. The heavy-set slave behind him, however, frowned in a way that suggested he wasn't going to let it go so easily.
As the line settled into waiting again, Xander returned his attention to Spike who still had his hand under the duster. Xander half closed his eyes as he imagined Spike's hand on his body, which actually made the frustration worse, especially since the pouch he wore had very little room for him to show any interest in that way.
Spike smiled wickedly, his mouth coming open in a laugh even if Xander couldn't hear it. Xander allowed his expression to turn into a glare for a half second before he counter-attacked. Rolling his hips slowly as though hearing music, Xander watched as Spike's eyes flashed yellow. Xander lowered his eyes and tilted his head just slightly so he could watch his Master, who stared as Xander shifted his weight in small seductive waves rippling from his shoulders all the way down to his knees. Turning, Xander presented his Master with his near-naked backside as he combined the hip roll with the full body undulation.
He lost the pattern as the crowd cheered again, and Xander turned back to find Spike looking particularly frustrated. He smiled sweetly when Spike glanced his way, and the vampire lowered his eyebrows even more. Xander remembered the days when he had half feared and half resented the way Spike took what he wanted. He hated that Spike chased Buffy with abandon. He feared that when the chip came out that Spike would hunt him down and torture him with the same dedication. Now, he smiled even more sweetly at the idea that as soon he finished, his Master was going to nail him to the nearest flat surface.
Xander traded in the hip motions for slow shoulder rolls. Once again, the calls of the crowd interrupted his attempts to torture his Master. The trainer appeared again and unhooked the woman in front of him. This time, Xander had an unobstructed view as the trainer led her to the center of the ring, having to dodge the posts to get to a small open space in the center. She knelt at the trainer's side as the cat-demon brought a woman from the other side of the ring. The cat demon held a chain in one hand, and when her slave knelt, the cat demon attached one end of the chain before handing over the other end for the second trainer to attach.
Each demon bent over and said something to the woman at his feet. As the women stood, they glanced at each other before taking a position next to a post. Each demon picked up a slave and put her on the post of her choice before retreating out of the ring. Xander watched at the two women lightly jumped from one post to another without making any attempt to actually dislodge each other. The two seemed like they were engaged in some sort of dance, and their physical similarities with fair skin and light hair reinforced the image. As Xander watched the two women circle each other, his eyes fell on the harnessed slave standing at the far side of the circle.
His heart nearly stopped when he saw the corded muscles and thick legs of the slave waiting to kick Xander's butt. Xander felt as though the room suddenly had no air in it as he struggled to get oxygen into his panicking, screaming lungs. Glancing over toward Spike, Xander felt guilt rise in a tide as he realized that he could never take the brute, and Spike would be the one who looked like a fool. Okay, he'd look like a fool too, but he'd had years of training for that. It was called high school.
When his eyes found his Master's gaze, the lewd expression had disappeared under a cool indifference that left Xander both confused as well as panicked. Didn't Spike care that he was about to get his butt kicked and humiliate both of them? Oh god. Some days he really didn't understand his Master. Unfortunately, chained and harnessed the way he was, he really didn't have a lot of options.
Next chapter out Monday, 12-5