Ficlet: Ever Day With Her Is Like Christmas, NC17, Spike/Drusilla
First of two Spike/Dru holiday ficlets. Enjoy!
Title: Every Day With Her Is Like Christmas
Author: Laure Alexander
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Spike/Drusilla, Drusilla/OFC
Warnings: language, smut, prostitution, death
Disclaimer: Nothing about BtVS belongs to me; it's all Joss; I'm just playing with his characters and making them do naughty things.
Distribution: Please ask first. Will be at my site Meandering Muse
Word Count: 614
Summary: Set sometime in the 1970s or 1980s in a big city, Spike brings Drusilla her Christmas presents.
Spike loved Christmas. He loved everything about it. The lights and sparkles, the music and candy canes. Santa and elves and reindeer, the fatter the better.
Dropping the dimestore Santa to the snowy alley, he licked the blood from his lips and grinned. Fake beard, real bowl full of jelly. All that lovely cholesterol gave spice to the blood.
Straightening his jacket, he strolled towards the entrance to the alley and the brightly lit street where last minute shoppers rushed by and the sounds of carolers echoed from a distant corner. As he passed by them and crossed the street, he checked his pockets and stopped at a stall to buy some roasted chestnuts. Popping one in his mouth, he smiled at the crunchy nutty sweetness and turned to look in a shop window.
The display was very festive with fake snow and holly strewn at the feet of mannequins wearing the latest fashions. One dress in particular caught his eye--it was sleek and short, bright red with lace sleeves.
She always loved red.
Surreptitiously picking the pocket of the harried looking man passing in front of him, Spike stuck the wallet into his own pocket and went into the store.
Ten minutes later the victim's credit card had a much heftier balance and his princess was getting a special Christmas present.
Heading for home, he stopped a few more times for matching shoes with spiked heels he hoped she'd wear to dig into his back later; an expensive bottle of sparkling wine; and a pretty hooker for dinner, before finally arriving at their basement flat as the shops were closing.
It was the night before Christmas Eve but they were going to celebrate early.
Drusilla met him at the door, a hungry look on her face. She smiled at his living present and, while she seduced the blonde whore, Spike watched her work. Slumping in his favorite chair, he lit a cigarette and smoked as the girl put on a show, fondling Drusilla's little breasts through her white blouse, kissing her neck and bare shoulders as the silk slithered down her arms. Drusilla encouraged her with soft croons and equally soft caresses.
As the hooker slid to the floor and hiked up his lover's skirts, Spike adjusted his swelling dick in his jeans. He idly palmed himself as she went down on Drusilla, licking and sucking at her neatly trimmed pussy. Drusilla's fingers tangled in her hair, her head fell back against the sofa, and she squirmed and bucked.
Her cry of pleasure made his cock throb and he stubbed out his cigarette, his eyes never leaving his lover's pleasure filled face as she dragged the hooker up onto the couch and violently buried her fangs in her throat.
The girl yelled and jerked and died within five minutes.
Shoving the corpse to the floor, Drusilla wiped at her messy mouth and smiled, showing bloody teeth, then opened her arms and spread her legs even wider. He could see how swollen her quim was, how wet, and he was on his feet, fumbling at his belt, before another thought could enter his mind.
As he flung her onto her back on the couch and came down on top of her, his cock with easy familiarity pushing into her, he figured she could put on the shoes later. Her little bare heels bouncing off his leather clad back was enough for now.
And maybe, for round three, he'd fuck her with the open wine bottle then drink it back out of her cunny.
Yes, Spike loved Christmas.
Or, really, any night spent with his dark and now babbling as she came again princess.
End
Title: Every Day With Her Is Like Christmas
Author: Laure Alexander
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Spike/Drusilla, Drusilla/OFC
Warnings: language, smut, prostitution, death
Disclaimer: Nothing about BtVS belongs to me; it's all Joss; I'm just playing with his characters and making them do naughty things.
Distribution: Please ask first. Will be at my site Meandering Muse
Word Count: 614
Summary: Set sometime in the 1970s or 1980s in a big city, Spike brings Drusilla her Christmas presents.
Spike loved Christmas. He loved everything about it. The lights and sparkles, the music and candy canes. Santa and elves and reindeer, the fatter the better.
Dropping the dimestore Santa to the snowy alley, he licked the blood from his lips and grinned. Fake beard, real bowl full of jelly. All that lovely cholesterol gave spice to the blood.
Straightening his jacket, he strolled towards the entrance to the alley and the brightly lit street where last minute shoppers rushed by and the sounds of carolers echoed from a distant corner. As he passed by them and crossed the street, he checked his pockets and stopped at a stall to buy some roasted chestnuts. Popping one in his mouth, he smiled at the crunchy nutty sweetness and turned to look in a shop window.
The display was very festive with fake snow and holly strewn at the feet of mannequins wearing the latest fashions. One dress in particular caught his eye--it was sleek and short, bright red with lace sleeves.
She always loved red.
Surreptitiously picking the pocket of the harried looking man passing in front of him, Spike stuck the wallet into his own pocket and went into the store.
Ten minutes later the victim's credit card had a much heftier balance and his princess was getting a special Christmas present.
Heading for home, he stopped a few more times for matching shoes with spiked heels he hoped she'd wear to dig into his back later; an expensive bottle of sparkling wine; and a pretty hooker for dinner, before finally arriving at their basement flat as the shops were closing.
It was the night before Christmas Eve but they were going to celebrate early.
Drusilla met him at the door, a hungry look on her face. She smiled at his living present and, while she seduced the blonde whore, Spike watched her work. Slumping in his favorite chair, he lit a cigarette and smoked as the girl put on a show, fondling Drusilla's little breasts through her white blouse, kissing her neck and bare shoulders as the silk slithered down her arms. Drusilla encouraged her with soft croons and equally soft caresses.
As the hooker slid to the floor and hiked up his lover's skirts, Spike adjusted his swelling dick in his jeans. He idly palmed himself as she went down on Drusilla, licking and sucking at her neatly trimmed pussy. Drusilla's fingers tangled in her hair, her head fell back against the sofa, and she squirmed and bucked.
Her cry of pleasure made his cock throb and he stubbed out his cigarette, his eyes never leaving his lover's pleasure filled face as she dragged the hooker up onto the couch and violently buried her fangs in her throat.
The girl yelled and jerked and died within five minutes.
Shoving the corpse to the floor, Drusilla wiped at her messy mouth and smiled, showing bloody teeth, then opened her arms and spread her legs even wider. He could see how swollen her quim was, how wet, and he was on his feet, fumbling at his belt, before another thought could enter his mind.
As he flung her onto her back on the couch and came down on top of her, his cock with easy familiarity pushing into her, he figured she could put on the shoes later. Her little bare heels bouncing off his leather clad back was enough for now.
And maybe, for round three, he'd fuck her with the open wine bottle then drink it back out of her cunny.
Yes, Spike loved Christmas.
Or, really, any night spent with his dark and now babbling as she came again princess.
End