Experimental Calculations
Title: Experimental Calculations 1/1
Pairings: Spike/Adam
Appropriate Ratings: NC17
Warnings: Non-con, violent non-con involving blood and.. just... bad. WARNING! DARK.... or possibly just slightly disturbing.
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: tamakin was watching New Moon Rising and started lamenting about how scared Spike looked when Adam showed up, and how she'd love something... really bad to happen to him. I complied. This is all hers, written for her and with her feedback.
Word Count: 1271 (As per MS Word Count) (I don't count the part of the script I quote)
Beta: Tamakin
X-posted to: perverted_pages, nekid_spike, all_fics_btvs, btvs_lightsout, btvs_slash, darker_spike, darker_vault, sickchicks, spike_fics, tortured_spike
A.N. This was written for tamakin as stated above, but it also fits with nekid_spike's "Bad Day" thing. And I say it's before midnight SOMEWHERE! I honestly thought I was a member of the comm dammit!.
SPIKE sleeps, lying on top of a coffin covered with a blanket. The sound of footsteps slowly approach as a green-scaled hand reaches into frame for Spike's throat. He seizes it before it gets there and smiles without opening his eyes.
SPIKE
From the sound of those massive mud flaps, I'd peg you as a demon. Which means you're in for a world of...
He opens his eyes and takes in Adam.
SPIKE
(amazed)
...pain.
Shocked, Spike leaps to his feet.
ADAM
Spike. I want you to come with me.
SPIKE
Do you? (shrugs) Well, let's go then.
Spike turns as if to leave, then spins around and punches Adam in the gut to absolutely no effect. Spike shakes his hand in pain.
SPIKE
Ow.
Adam steps forward and Spike retreats.
ADAM
Come. You're going to help me with my problem.
SPIKE
Why is that exactly?
ADAM
I'm going to help you with yours.
Despite himself, Spike is intrigued.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Spike smirked and moved to grab a half full bottle of whisky, carefully keeping Adam in constant view. “Really? And what problem might that be?” he asked flippantly, taking a deep swig.
“Mother used many parts of demons and humans, giving me the best of the materials available.” Adam’s voice was cool and confident, sure of his pedigree and status. Spike took another nervous swig from the bottle.
“Yeah, kinda noticed that, the seams aren’t exactly blending in,” Spike swallowed thickly, suddenly wondering if he’d gone too far. He stilled his nervous movements, feeling wary and cautious. Something about the metal, monster and man scent combination was off, even more than his unnatural existence, but he couldn’t quite place it.
“I require aid for one of those parts. You will come with me to help with it.” Again, that calm cool voice vibrating with mechanical twang. He looked so confident and sure, it made Spike nervous as hell.
“I’m not soddin’ well leaving my crypt just because you say so,” wanker Spike thought. He may love to push buttons and speak his mind, but Adam obviously had nothing to fear from Spike.
Adam suddenly lunged forward, distressingly quickly, and grabbed Spike by the throat, squeezing the vampire’s windpipe until he couldn’t speak anymore. Spike clutched the bottle tightly, not daring to drop it. “That’s fine, we can complete the experiment here.” A chilling and disturbing smile graced the monster’s lips that never reached his eyes.
Spike scrabbled at the vice-like grip, trying to loosen it, to breathe. Panic sizzled through him when he realized this mountain of a creature was not only stronger than him, he was much much stronger than him. He tried to kick, fingernails ripping and tearing at the inhuman flesh, but nothing worked. Finally Spike smashed the bottle against the wall and slashed ineffectually at the monster holding his throat in a vice like grip. Adam laughed once, a strange barking sound that erupted with a violent exhale, and threw him over the sarcophagus that Spike used as a bed.
He landed with a bone cracking thud, the breath knocked out of him. Dazed, he looked around before making a mad dash for the door which was brought to a swift end when Adam grabbed him by the back of the neck, slamming his face into the stone of the vampire’s make-shift bed.
Pain and a red haze took over Spike’s senses, he knew his nose was broken and possibly his arm when he landed on it. He was panting, a low whine escaping now and again while Adam took his time to make sure Spike was in a favorable position. His hips were lifted, arse brought up and legs straightened. He could feel his body being manipulated but it took until he felt those meaty hands tug and pull at his belt for him to clue in to what was happening.
“NO! You sodding WANKER!” He pushed up with his hands and through his shouting didn’t hear Adam sigh before his face was slammed into the unforgiving stone once more.
When his senses finally returned, his pants were around his ankles, trench coat flipped over his head and his arms were bound tight together behind his back with scraps from his newly shredded blanket. He couldn’t stop the soft whimper that crept past his lips.
“Mother used parts of a slain Grnplx in my creation. She thought its ability to create acidic urine might come in handy on certain operations I was to be sent on. Unfortunately, the specimen she harvested the organs from hadn’t yet reached maturity.” He held Spike down with one unmovable, heavy hand and the other worked efficiently at his fly.
“They have now.”
Spike screamed.
Each and every thrust of the thorned and barbed length of Grnplx cock into his shredded and violated insides pulled another chorus of screams and grunts. The sharply cut stone of the crypt dug into his hips with each brutal plunge, rubbing his flaccid cock against its abrasive surface while his balls tried to crawl back into his body. His arm ached incessantly, flaring into white hot agony now and again when Adam used his bound arms for leverage to deepen his thrusts. His nose was bleeding freely, painting his face and the cover stone of the sarcophagus a vibrant, pulsing red.
This was worse than the time Angelus had raped him with the holy water dipped serrated blades. He’d offended Darla by not pleasuring her fast enough, so that had been his punishment. It had burned, and ripped and cut but nothing like this! The talon like thorns twitched and undulated inside him, digging themselves deeper before they were ripped out again while the barbs flexed and clung to the flesh they’d embedded themselves in, struggling to hold their prize while being ripped out again and everything was ripping and tearing and tearing and ripping...
The more Spike struggled, the harsher Adam’s grip became until he was sure he could feel the sausage like fingers digging into the bones of his hip and wrists. This was worse than any rape Angelus had performed, because at least then he knew it meant something more than just a means to an end. This was cold, calculating, merely an experiment to see if his surgery was performed correctly, nothing more.
He could feel his throat burning, his broken ribs blazing with pain as he screamed helplessly. He was being torn to shreds and there was no way for him to stop it. The beast hammered on, deeper and deeper, and he could feel his dead blood dribbling down his thighs in a putrid river. He heard words, knew they were aimed at him, but he couldn’t quite grasp their meaning.
“Once this is completed the glands secretions will have stabilized and increased their potency.” He thrust repeatedly into the ravaged vampire. “You will return to me when you are healed and I will remove your chip.”
Spike’s world darkened and sounds grew indistinct as he seemed to float away from his body. The assault moved towards its climax, each harsh thrust pushing him further and further from his body, further and further from the pain.
“You take care of my problem,” one hard slam followed by a gush of runny bitter ejaculate shooting deep into the vampires bowels. “And I’ll take care of yours.”
Spike fell to the ground in a despondent heap, air trickling silently into his one inflated lung to be squeezed out in a high pitched gurgling and wet whine. Before long he was screaming and writhing on the floor, at the feet of the beast that had torn into him, like a dying sacrifice at the altar of an angry and hideous god. The demon spunk filling and pouring from him was acidic, but not nearly as acidic as the demon urine will be after this ceremonial tempering. He sobbed openly, arching and thrashing, every sense screaming about his agony before he finally slipped into the darkness, oblivion claiming him at her cool breast.
“You have served your purpose well, vampire. You will be rewarded,” Adam announced to his unconscious victim. As he strode from the crypt, he tucked himself away, mentally calculating new attack and defense possibilities now afforded by his newly working accessory.
Left behind was a vampire clutching at the blanket of darkness he was swimming in, begging to stay asleep as long as possible. Begging to stay unconscious until his wounds were healed. Pleading… to be able to forget this day ever happened… to forget this one really bad day…
Pairings: Spike/Adam
Appropriate Ratings: NC17
Warnings: Non-con, violent non-con involving blood and.. just... bad. WARNING! DARK.... or possibly just slightly disturbing.
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: tamakin was watching New Moon Rising and started lamenting about how scared Spike looked when Adam showed up, and how she'd love something... really bad to happen to him. I complied. This is all hers, written for her and with her feedback.
Word Count: 1271 (As per MS Word Count) (I don't count the part of the script I quote)
Beta: Tamakin
X-posted to: perverted_pages, nekid_spike, all_fics_btvs, btvs_lightsout, btvs_slash, darker_spike, darker_vault, sickchicks, spike_fics, tortured_spike
A.N. This was written for tamakin as stated above, but it also fits with nekid_spike's "Bad Day" thing. And I say it's before midnight SOMEWHERE! I honestly thought I was a member of the comm dammit!.
SPIKE sleeps, lying on top of a coffin covered with a blanket. The sound of footsteps slowly approach as a green-scaled hand reaches into frame for Spike's throat. He seizes it before it gets there and smiles without opening his eyes.
SPIKE
From the sound of those massive mud flaps, I'd peg you as a demon. Which means you're in for a world of...
He opens his eyes and takes in Adam.
SPIKE
(amazed)
...pain.
Shocked, Spike leaps to his feet.
ADAM
Spike. I want you to come with me.
SPIKE
Do you? (shrugs) Well, let's go then.
Spike turns as if to leave, then spins around and punches Adam in the gut to absolutely no effect. Spike shakes his hand in pain.
SPIKE
Ow.
Adam steps forward and Spike retreats.
ADAM
Come. You're going to help me with my problem.
SPIKE
Why is that exactly?
ADAM
I'm going to help you with yours.
Despite himself, Spike is intrigued.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Spike smirked and moved to grab a half full bottle of whisky, carefully keeping Adam in constant view. “Really? And what problem might that be?” he asked flippantly, taking a deep swig.
“Mother used many parts of demons and humans, giving me the best of the materials available.” Adam’s voice was cool and confident, sure of his pedigree and status. Spike took another nervous swig from the bottle.
“Yeah, kinda noticed that, the seams aren’t exactly blending in,” Spike swallowed thickly, suddenly wondering if he’d gone too far. He stilled his nervous movements, feeling wary and cautious. Something about the metal, monster and man scent combination was off, even more than his unnatural existence, but he couldn’t quite place it.
“I require aid for one of those parts. You will come with me to help with it.” Again, that calm cool voice vibrating with mechanical twang. He looked so confident and sure, it made Spike nervous as hell.
“I’m not soddin’ well leaving my crypt just because you say so,” wanker Spike thought. He may love to push buttons and speak his mind, but Adam obviously had nothing to fear from Spike.
Adam suddenly lunged forward, distressingly quickly, and grabbed Spike by the throat, squeezing the vampire’s windpipe until he couldn’t speak anymore. Spike clutched the bottle tightly, not daring to drop it. “That’s fine, we can complete the experiment here.” A chilling and disturbing smile graced the monster’s lips that never reached his eyes.
Spike scrabbled at the vice-like grip, trying to loosen it, to breathe. Panic sizzled through him when he realized this mountain of a creature was not only stronger than him, he was much much stronger than him. He tried to kick, fingernails ripping and tearing at the inhuman flesh, but nothing worked. Finally Spike smashed the bottle against the wall and slashed ineffectually at the monster holding his throat in a vice like grip. Adam laughed once, a strange barking sound that erupted with a violent exhale, and threw him over the sarcophagus that Spike used as a bed.
He landed with a bone cracking thud, the breath knocked out of him. Dazed, he looked around before making a mad dash for the door which was brought to a swift end when Adam grabbed him by the back of the neck, slamming his face into the stone of the vampire’s make-shift bed.
Pain and a red haze took over Spike’s senses, he knew his nose was broken and possibly his arm when he landed on it. He was panting, a low whine escaping now and again while Adam took his time to make sure Spike was in a favorable position. His hips were lifted, arse brought up and legs straightened. He could feel his body being manipulated but it took until he felt those meaty hands tug and pull at his belt for him to clue in to what was happening.
“NO! You sodding WANKER!” He pushed up with his hands and through his shouting didn’t hear Adam sigh before his face was slammed into the unforgiving stone once more.
When his senses finally returned, his pants were around his ankles, trench coat flipped over his head and his arms were bound tight together behind his back with scraps from his newly shredded blanket. He couldn’t stop the soft whimper that crept past his lips.
“Mother used parts of a slain Grnplx in my creation. She thought its ability to create acidic urine might come in handy on certain operations I was to be sent on. Unfortunately, the specimen she harvested the organs from hadn’t yet reached maturity.” He held Spike down with one unmovable, heavy hand and the other worked efficiently at his fly.
“They have now.”
Spike screamed.
Each and every thrust of the thorned and barbed length of Grnplx cock into his shredded and violated insides pulled another chorus of screams and grunts. The sharply cut stone of the crypt dug into his hips with each brutal plunge, rubbing his flaccid cock against its abrasive surface while his balls tried to crawl back into his body. His arm ached incessantly, flaring into white hot agony now and again when Adam used his bound arms for leverage to deepen his thrusts. His nose was bleeding freely, painting his face and the cover stone of the sarcophagus a vibrant, pulsing red.
This was worse than the time Angelus had raped him with the holy water dipped serrated blades. He’d offended Darla by not pleasuring her fast enough, so that had been his punishment. It had burned, and ripped and cut but nothing like this! The talon like thorns twitched and undulated inside him, digging themselves deeper before they were ripped out again while the barbs flexed and clung to the flesh they’d embedded themselves in, struggling to hold their prize while being ripped out again and everything was ripping and tearing and tearing and ripping...
The more Spike struggled, the harsher Adam’s grip became until he was sure he could feel the sausage like fingers digging into the bones of his hip and wrists. This was worse than any rape Angelus had performed, because at least then he knew it meant something more than just a means to an end. This was cold, calculating, merely an experiment to see if his surgery was performed correctly, nothing more.
He could feel his throat burning, his broken ribs blazing with pain as he screamed helplessly. He was being torn to shreds and there was no way for him to stop it. The beast hammered on, deeper and deeper, and he could feel his dead blood dribbling down his thighs in a putrid river. He heard words, knew they were aimed at him, but he couldn’t quite grasp their meaning.
“Once this is completed the glands secretions will have stabilized and increased their potency.” He thrust repeatedly into the ravaged vampire. “You will return to me when you are healed and I will remove your chip.”
Spike’s world darkened and sounds grew indistinct as he seemed to float away from his body. The assault moved towards its climax, each harsh thrust pushing him further and further from his body, further and further from the pain.
“You take care of my problem,” one hard slam followed by a gush of runny bitter ejaculate shooting deep into the vampires bowels. “And I’ll take care of yours.”
Spike fell to the ground in a despondent heap, air trickling silently into his one inflated lung to be squeezed out in a high pitched gurgling and wet whine. Before long he was screaming and writhing on the floor, at the feet of the beast that had torn into him, like a dying sacrifice at the altar of an angry and hideous god. The demon spunk filling and pouring from him was acidic, but not nearly as acidic as the demon urine will be after this ceremonial tempering. He sobbed openly, arching and thrashing, every sense screaming about his agony before he finally slipped into the darkness, oblivion claiming him at her cool breast.
“You have served your purpose well, vampire. You will be rewarded,” Adam announced to his unconscious victim. As he strode from the crypt, he tucked himself away, mentally calculating new attack and defense possibilities now afforded by his newly working accessory.
Left behind was a vampire clutching at the blanket of darkness he was swimming in, begging to stay asleep as long as possible. Begging to stay unconscious until his wounds were healed. Pleading… to be able to forget this day ever happened… to forget this one really bad day…