Puppy Love 17B/50 - Pet
Title: Puppy Love 17B/50 - Pet
Pairings: Spike/Xander
Appropriate Ratings: NC17 overall, this chapter... R-ish (I think. If I'm wrong, lemme know)
Warnings: mild torture, humiliation, nudity, slavery, bondage, nothing huge.
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: Puppy gets interrogated, Spike learns about puppy's past. Cut in two for length.
Word Count: 2425
Beta: Tamakin and laazikaat
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 and The Spander Files
A.N.1 This is in response to the prompt table given to me by hawk_soaring. Thanks bunches again!
Comments keep my muse well fed. Please please please feed her?
This fic won an award!
Previously:
The first lash fell with a sharp slap onto his back, again Spike’s voice came through his headphones, tinny yet clear. “That’s a six foot bull whip without a cracker at the end, it’s a slapper, a long thin strip of leather. It’ll bruise and abrade, raise welts and even sometimes feel like a tender caress but it won’t draw blood. You keep playing your game an’ I’ll pull out the toys that do draw blood.” Spike’s voice was icy calm and left zero room for doubt. If Xander didn’t play by Spike’s rules, the reason for him being in a tiled room was going to become clearly apparent.
I don’t want to die.
And Now:
“Yes Sir, I… I understand. I’m sorry I didn’t give the information you wanted. Please, ask me again.” He was trembling, shaking like a leaf and he could hear the chains rattling. The zipper mouth of the hood cut into his lip with every word but he dared not voice any complaint.
Please please please, don’t make it hurt, don’t make it bad. I’ve been good, I promise, I didn’t know you knew! I didn’t know you wanted me to tell you! Please don’t make it hurt, please Spike. The tears built up in his eyes and spilled beneath the hood, smearing across his cheeks. Soon he was going to be snotty and snotty and crying in a hood were never a good thing. At least this time I’m not gagged… won’t be as bad. It won’t.
“Shhhhh pet, stop shaking. Take a deep breath. It’ll hurt, can’t help but hurt, but it’ll hurt good. I promise pet, you’ll like it. You’ll be begging to tell me so it’ll stop, but only so you can finish. Better game than before pet? This what you wanted from the start?” Cool hands stroked his chest and nipples while Spike rubbed his equally nude body against Xander’s. Xander breathed deep as instructed, the heavy scent of leather overpowering everything else. His head swam and he felt himself falling again, slipping and sliding down that warm tunnel where he felt safe and comfortable and even… loved.
The illusion pulled at him and he gave in. Why not? Why not enjoy what little he was permitted and explore the parts of him he’d denied about himself for years? No one would know, no one would ever know and it felt… so… good. His shaking eased but he stayed on his tip toes while Spike took careful, measured steps back.
The first slap hit him on the shoulder, and fire exploded from the site before simmering deep under the skin. He didn’t even moan, just hung his head forward and let his eyes drift listlessly in his head behind the hood’s blindfold. “There’s my boy. Don’t have to count, don’t have to thank me, just feel it and ride the wave. Let me play you like the instrument you are.”
Another strike fell on his opposite shoulder and suddenly holding himself up on his toes was proving to be a much more devious ploy than he’d realized. The strikes fell steadily, pausing in their fall now and again for Spike to run his cool hand over the heated, abused skin. He felt Spike lean forward and occasionally lick at a particularly annoying abrasion and the pain eased slightly, but he was too dazed to notice it.
The pain ignited the fire beneath his skin, each stroke like a pump of the bellows. He began to cry out with each strike but not in pain and fear like he’d expected, oh no, the words and sounds spilling from his traitorous lips were encouraging and pleading for more. The fire burned him alive yet he’d never felt more alive in his life.
After the first dozen strokes Spike asked him for a colour and Xander answered instantly, “Green Sir,” before he’d known he’d said it. It was alright though, because according to his research green was the right answer because red meant stop right now and yellow meant slow down and green meant everything was going great, and the answering rain of slapping strikes confirmed his almost disjointed hypothesis. He wasn’t asked again. Spike didn’t need to.
They moved to soft floggers, light and teasing until it was finally a heavy thud and that’s when the tears came unbidden. His hair was drenched in sweat beneath the hood and the tears had soaked into the built in blindfold. He sobbed openly, body wracked with giant sobs and he couldn’t for the life of him understand it.
He was immediately taken down, a fleece comforter pulled over his sweating and shaking body was a much welcome treat and the fingers releasing the laces of the hood was even more so. He took in deep lungfuls of air before breaking down into a sobbing mess once more, and he still couldn’t understand it.
I’ve been beat worse then this, this isn’t from pain. This isn’t from humiliation, this isn’t… this doesn’t feel… I feel so free. Oh god I feel so free. He clutched blindly at Spike, eyes clenched shut against the glare of unaccustomed light while the tension and emotional poisons he’d kept bottled inside since almost the day he was born broke the dam and spilled heedlessly forth.
And through it all, Spike never once demanded or cajoled, he just held him, stroked his shivering body and comforted him until the storm passed. “There’s my boy, feel better now, yeah? Less full of all those annoying thoughts and distractions.”
Xander let out a happy sigh and nodded before remembering and snapping his eyes open to look at Spike, “I mean, yes Sir!”
“Shhh… this is the afterglow, you’re dropping. Your body is reacting to the pain and rollercoaster of emotions you just put it through. You’re gonna feel cold, possibly giddy or sleepy, it’s all alright and perfectly normal pet, ‘m not angry. There’s my boy, blow.” Spike held a tissue to Xander’s nose and the boy obediently blew it while Spike wiped it clean. He picked up a clean tissue and wiped the boy’s eyes dry, patting down sweat and tear streaked skin while he crooned wordlessly.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I really didn’t know who knew. He said… he said he wouldn’t tell anyone because… because I wasn’t his. I’m sorry, I tried to forget it, I really did.” Xander sobbed almost continuously, blubbering and sobbing openly and without shame. Well, without shame now, he was entirely too distracted.
Spike tucked a finger beneath Xander’s chin and lifted the tear streaked face. He spoke quietly, “What did you try to forget puppy? Who wouldn’t say anything? Not angry” -yet- “Just wanna know. Wanna know why you know how to be around me, wanna know who trained you, wanna know so I can kill those filthy Vor’nock’s for lying about their training.” He was rocking the flannel wrapped bundle gently, coaxing the words out of him.
“Wasn’t the-the demons. They didn’t… they didn’t do anything, really!” And now I get to admit to a cold blooded killer something no one has ever talked about. Because no one asked. Because no one noticed. He swallowed tears and blinked rapidly to dry his eyes.
“After… after I showed down Angelus in the hospital I think he got a little… irritated with me.” A glass of water appeared at his lips and he drank greedily before continuing. “It was just before the whole school team turning into killer tunas incident.” He coughed slightly and struggled briefly to straighten before giving up on the iron grip Spike had on him.
He looked up at Spike, at his lips, never his eyes, and tried to finish the story without panicking or freezing up. “I’d read a bunch of locked Watcher’s diaries in Giles’s desk. I broke in and…” he shrugged to himself, he had no need to be embarrassed about that part; the worst was yet to come.
“I found them, the diaries about you, about Angelus, what you did together. I… I also found a book there. Well, I found a lot of books, really, but this one’s the important one. It was… it was about how to survive as a vampire’s captive through blatant shows of submission. It said… it said if it was explicit, if it was blatant enough, the demon usually took control over rational thought. The vampire was no longer angry, they were possessive and aggressive with it. The demon would surge into fuller control, pushing aside petty games and human failings to make him assert his dominance and clearly proclaim who the submissive was. You’d probably get a violent but very satisfying fuck out of it but you likely wouldn’t die unless you’d really pissed off the vampire.” Spike didn’t once stop rocking gently or slowly petting sweat dampened locks. It gave him enough confidence to go on, though the loopy feeling of the endorphin and adrenalin rush was definitely helping with keeping things as unsteady as possible.
“I read it.” He swallowed, “I read it a lot. I memorized almost all of it and took notes of the parts I couldn’t. I learned… I learned about body language and how to… to look certain ways. I learned how to submit to a vampire and one night… one night the lessons really came in handy.” He found another glass of water at his lips and he drank it slowly down, feeling just the barest twinge of unease at this level of vulnerability he was opening himself to.
“Angelus… he didn’t like how I’d shown him up, couldn’t understand how mousy Xander was suddenly confident and even slightly intimidating. I don’t think he cared very much about that though, well other than really liking it and helping him make his decision. He said… he said he was recruiting and I was lucky number one, that I had a choice stay dead or no, that I had no choice whatsoever. He l-loves doing that, right? The whole ‘oh you have a choice, no wait you don’t because I’m the big vampire in charge and I say so’ thing.” He swallowed thickly, hoping he hadn’t overstepped any boundaries but Spike just kept holding and stroking him lightly so he went on.
“I… led him to believe I was very very sorry for what I’d done and that I would never do it again. He accepted as long as I paid some penance, he said. He… he beat me with my belt. Gagged me with my favourite Hawaiian shirt and just beat me.” His voice was quiet but he knew it was alright, Spike was a vampire, he’d easily hear. He hadn’t expected the gentle hands that had been cradling him to suddenly grasp him so tightly.
“He made me… he made me beg whenever he took out the gag, made me… made me say I was a filthy little animal that-that deserved to be punished. That I was a bad pet and needed to be shown how to properly behave. He said… he said that he couldn’t do anything more, that he may be a bastard but he kept to the code and that I may be a pet but I wasn’t his. He made me promise and swear to report to you… report anything of importance. Of course you already had an ‘in’ that night without me. Doesn’t matter. That’s why I know. That’s why I practised.”
His voice was a whisper, shame robbing him of volume, “I knew I’d probably end up as bait or captured and tortured or something if I stayed with the Slayer, I’m just human after all. No witchy powers, no Slayer strength and healing, just a normal, frail, easily broken human. I knew the best way to survive was to stay alive until I got saved since I’d never save myself because I am not the saving kind, being saved yes, but…. So, yeah. I learned. I taught myself. And I promised him I’d remain the loyal and obedient little pet that I apparently already was and give you reports and let you know if it was a good time to strike. Guess I meant it, huh?”
Spike heard what was unsaid, what kinds of retribution Angelus would reap from this willing boy, though none sexual. The boy was his and his alone, he’d granted no one sharing rights. He was also very right. That damned book had probably saved his life countless times over by now, and made him into the perfect malleable, innocent yet educated lump of clay for him to create a masterpiece from. And now to make sure of the final bit he was already certain of, but it did the boy good to say it himself.
“Wasn’t the only reason you memorized those pages, was it pet?” he murmured softly in the shell of an ear before lipping the cartilage and soft lobe.
“I… No, it wasn’t.” Xander felt his face flush and his ears heat with shame, the vampire was actually going to do it, was actually going to make him say it even though Xander was sure he knew. Of course he knows, freaky vampire nose and it’s smelling and sniffing and he knows oh god he knows he knows.
“What was it pet? What was it that made you blush so pretty? Why else would a growing boy read such horrible, dirty, wrong filth? Why else would a pretty human boy who plays with demons late at night want to know what they did behind closed doors? What made you want to learn the best and quickest way to get a demon randy and possessive? Tell your Master boy, come on, tell your Master, there’s a good boy…”
How could Xander refuse? “Because it’s what I wanted!” He clapped his hands over his mouth tightly, holding in a full throated screaming sob with a white knuckled grip. He’d said it, admitted it, admitted it to the bleached menace when he’d never fully admitted it to himself before.
He forcefully pulled his locked hands away from his face and admitted the rest, “I wanted it and I have it and this is all my fault! I got Buffy killed, no one is looking for me because they all think I’m with my cousin but my cousin never found me so he probably thinks dad didn’t let me go. I did this, I made this, this is all my fault and I didn’t want it! Not like this!” He was sobbing again, and once more Spike was rocking him tenderly while petting his drying hair.
“Doesn’t mean you can’t like it. Doesn’t mean it’s wrong to live the life you’ve always dreamed. And if it’s not exactly what you dreamed your fantasies were, doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy this too. You’re mine pet, my lovely boy, my human, my pup. I’ll teach you what your body craves and needs, and you’ll thank me for it well before the end. It’s what you are and what you’ll be.” He felt Spike kiss his temple while he kept crying.
“Besides, you’re mine now boy, and I never give up what’s mine.”
Previous Chapter: Chapter 17A - Pet
Next Chapter: Chapter 18 - Deprivation
All parts found on this prompt chart or in my memories.
Pairings: Spike/Xander
Appropriate Ratings: NC17 overall, this chapter... R-ish (I think. If I'm wrong, lemme know)
Warnings: mild torture, humiliation, nudity, slavery, bondage, nothing huge.
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: Puppy gets interrogated, Spike learns about puppy's past. Cut in two for length.
Word Count: 2425
Beta: Tamakin and laazikaat
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 and The Spander Files
A.N.1 This is in response to the prompt table given to me by hawk_soaring. Thanks bunches again!
Comments keep my muse well fed. Please please please feed her?
This fic won an award!
Previously:
The first lash fell with a sharp slap onto his back, again Spike’s voice came through his headphones, tinny yet clear. “That’s a six foot bull whip without a cracker at the end, it’s a slapper, a long thin strip of leather. It’ll bruise and abrade, raise welts and even sometimes feel like a tender caress but it won’t draw blood. You keep playing your game an’ I’ll pull out the toys that do draw blood.” Spike’s voice was icy calm and left zero room for doubt. If Xander didn’t play by Spike’s rules, the reason for him being in a tiled room was going to become clearly apparent.
I don’t want to die.
And Now:
“Yes Sir, I… I understand. I’m sorry I didn’t give the information you wanted. Please, ask me again.” He was trembling, shaking like a leaf and he could hear the chains rattling. The zipper mouth of the hood cut into his lip with every word but he dared not voice any complaint.
Please please please, don’t make it hurt, don’t make it bad. I’ve been good, I promise, I didn’t know you knew! I didn’t know you wanted me to tell you! Please don’t make it hurt, please Spike. The tears built up in his eyes and spilled beneath the hood, smearing across his cheeks. Soon he was going to be snotty and snotty and crying in a hood were never a good thing. At least this time I’m not gagged… won’t be as bad. It won’t.
“Shhhhh pet, stop shaking. Take a deep breath. It’ll hurt, can’t help but hurt, but it’ll hurt good. I promise pet, you’ll like it. You’ll be begging to tell me so it’ll stop, but only so you can finish. Better game than before pet? This what you wanted from the start?” Cool hands stroked his chest and nipples while Spike rubbed his equally nude body against Xander’s. Xander breathed deep as instructed, the heavy scent of leather overpowering everything else. His head swam and he felt himself falling again, slipping and sliding down that warm tunnel where he felt safe and comfortable and even… loved.
The illusion pulled at him and he gave in. Why not? Why not enjoy what little he was permitted and explore the parts of him he’d denied about himself for years? No one would know, no one would ever know and it felt… so… good. His shaking eased but he stayed on his tip toes while Spike took careful, measured steps back.
The first slap hit him on the shoulder, and fire exploded from the site before simmering deep under the skin. He didn’t even moan, just hung his head forward and let his eyes drift listlessly in his head behind the hood’s blindfold. “There’s my boy. Don’t have to count, don’t have to thank me, just feel it and ride the wave. Let me play you like the instrument you are.”
Another strike fell on his opposite shoulder and suddenly holding himself up on his toes was proving to be a much more devious ploy than he’d realized. The strikes fell steadily, pausing in their fall now and again for Spike to run his cool hand over the heated, abused skin. He felt Spike lean forward and occasionally lick at a particularly annoying abrasion and the pain eased slightly, but he was too dazed to notice it.
The pain ignited the fire beneath his skin, each stroke like a pump of the bellows. He began to cry out with each strike but not in pain and fear like he’d expected, oh no, the words and sounds spilling from his traitorous lips were encouraging and pleading for more. The fire burned him alive yet he’d never felt more alive in his life.
After the first dozen strokes Spike asked him for a colour and Xander answered instantly, “Green Sir,” before he’d known he’d said it. It was alright though, because according to his research green was the right answer because red meant stop right now and yellow meant slow down and green meant everything was going great, and the answering rain of slapping strikes confirmed his almost disjointed hypothesis. He wasn’t asked again. Spike didn’t need to.
They moved to soft floggers, light and teasing until it was finally a heavy thud and that’s when the tears came unbidden. His hair was drenched in sweat beneath the hood and the tears had soaked into the built in blindfold. He sobbed openly, body wracked with giant sobs and he couldn’t for the life of him understand it.
He was immediately taken down, a fleece comforter pulled over his sweating and shaking body was a much welcome treat and the fingers releasing the laces of the hood was even more so. He took in deep lungfuls of air before breaking down into a sobbing mess once more, and he still couldn’t understand it.
I’ve been beat worse then this, this isn’t from pain. This isn’t from humiliation, this isn’t… this doesn’t feel… I feel so free. Oh god I feel so free. He clutched blindly at Spike, eyes clenched shut against the glare of unaccustomed light while the tension and emotional poisons he’d kept bottled inside since almost the day he was born broke the dam and spilled heedlessly forth.
And through it all, Spike never once demanded or cajoled, he just held him, stroked his shivering body and comforted him until the storm passed. “There’s my boy, feel better now, yeah? Less full of all those annoying thoughts and distractions.”
Xander let out a happy sigh and nodded before remembering and snapping his eyes open to look at Spike, “I mean, yes Sir!”
“Shhh… this is the afterglow, you’re dropping. Your body is reacting to the pain and rollercoaster of emotions you just put it through. You’re gonna feel cold, possibly giddy or sleepy, it’s all alright and perfectly normal pet, ‘m not angry. There’s my boy, blow.” Spike held a tissue to Xander’s nose and the boy obediently blew it while Spike wiped it clean. He picked up a clean tissue and wiped the boy’s eyes dry, patting down sweat and tear streaked skin while he crooned wordlessly.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I really didn’t know who knew. He said… he said he wouldn’t tell anyone because… because I wasn’t his. I’m sorry, I tried to forget it, I really did.” Xander sobbed almost continuously, blubbering and sobbing openly and without shame. Well, without shame now, he was entirely too distracted.
Spike tucked a finger beneath Xander’s chin and lifted the tear streaked face. He spoke quietly, “What did you try to forget puppy? Who wouldn’t say anything? Not angry” -yet- “Just wanna know. Wanna know why you know how to be around me, wanna know who trained you, wanna know so I can kill those filthy Vor’nock’s for lying about their training.” He was rocking the flannel wrapped bundle gently, coaxing the words out of him.
“Wasn’t the-the demons. They didn’t… they didn’t do anything, really!” And now I get to admit to a cold blooded killer something no one has ever talked about. Because no one asked. Because no one noticed. He swallowed tears and blinked rapidly to dry his eyes.
“After… after I showed down Angelus in the hospital I think he got a little… irritated with me.” A glass of water appeared at his lips and he drank greedily before continuing. “It was just before the whole school team turning into killer tunas incident.” He coughed slightly and struggled briefly to straighten before giving up on the iron grip Spike had on him.
He looked up at Spike, at his lips, never his eyes, and tried to finish the story without panicking or freezing up. “I’d read a bunch of locked Watcher’s diaries in Giles’s desk. I broke in and…” he shrugged to himself, he had no need to be embarrassed about that part; the worst was yet to come.
“I found them, the diaries about you, about Angelus, what you did together. I… I also found a book there. Well, I found a lot of books, really, but this one’s the important one. It was… it was about how to survive as a vampire’s captive through blatant shows of submission. It said… it said if it was explicit, if it was blatant enough, the demon usually took control over rational thought. The vampire was no longer angry, they were possessive and aggressive with it. The demon would surge into fuller control, pushing aside petty games and human failings to make him assert his dominance and clearly proclaim who the submissive was. You’d probably get a violent but very satisfying fuck out of it but you likely wouldn’t die unless you’d really pissed off the vampire.” Spike didn’t once stop rocking gently or slowly petting sweat dampened locks. It gave him enough confidence to go on, though the loopy feeling of the endorphin and adrenalin rush was definitely helping with keeping things as unsteady as possible.
“I read it.” He swallowed, “I read it a lot. I memorized almost all of it and took notes of the parts I couldn’t. I learned… I learned about body language and how to… to look certain ways. I learned how to submit to a vampire and one night… one night the lessons really came in handy.” He found another glass of water at his lips and he drank it slowly down, feeling just the barest twinge of unease at this level of vulnerability he was opening himself to.
“Angelus… he didn’t like how I’d shown him up, couldn’t understand how mousy Xander was suddenly confident and even slightly intimidating. I don’t think he cared very much about that though, well other than really liking it and helping him make his decision. He said… he said he was recruiting and I was lucky number one, that I had a choice stay dead or no, that I had no choice whatsoever. He l-loves doing that, right? The whole ‘oh you have a choice, no wait you don’t because I’m the big vampire in charge and I say so’ thing.” He swallowed thickly, hoping he hadn’t overstepped any boundaries but Spike just kept holding and stroking him lightly so he went on.
“I… led him to believe I was very very sorry for what I’d done and that I would never do it again. He accepted as long as I paid some penance, he said. He… he beat me with my belt. Gagged me with my favourite Hawaiian shirt and just beat me.” His voice was quiet but he knew it was alright, Spike was a vampire, he’d easily hear. He hadn’t expected the gentle hands that had been cradling him to suddenly grasp him so tightly.
“He made me… he made me beg whenever he took out the gag, made me… made me say I was a filthy little animal that-that deserved to be punished. That I was a bad pet and needed to be shown how to properly behave. He said… he said that he couldn’t do anything more, that he may be a bastard but he kept to the code and that I may be a pet but I wasn’t his. He made me promise and swear to report to you… report anything of importance. Of course you already had an ‘in’ that night without me. Doesn’t matter. That’s why I know. That’s why I practised.”
His voice was a whisper, shame robbing him of volume, “I knew I’d probably end up as bait or captured and tortured or something if I stayed with the Slayer, I’m just human after all. No witchy powers, no Slayer strength and healing, just a normal, frail, easily broken human. I knew the best way to survive was to stay alive until I got saved since I’d never save myself because I am not the saving kind, being saved yes, but…. So, yeah. I learned. I taught myself. And I promised him I’d remain the loyal and obedient little pet that I apparently already was and give you reports and let you know if it was a good time to strike. Guess I meant it, huh?”
Spike heard what was unsaid, what kinds of retribution Angelus would reap from this willing boy, though none sexual. The boy was his and his alone, he’d granted no one sharing rights. He was also very right. That damned book had probably saved his life countless times over by now, and made him into the perfect malleable, innocent yet educated lump of clay for him to create a masterpiece from. And now to make sure of the final bit he was already certain of, but it did the boy good to say it himself.
“Wasn’t the only reason you memorized those pages, was it pet?” he murmured softly in the shell of an ear before lipping the cartilage and soft lobe.
“I… No, it wasn’t.” Xander felt his face flush and his ears heat with shame, the vampire was actually going to do it, was actually going to make him say it even though Xander was sure he knew. Of course he knows, freaky vampire nose and it’s smelling and sniffing and he knows oh god he knows he knows.
“What was it pet? What was it that made you blush so pretty? Why else would a growing boy read such horrible, dirty, wrong filth? Why else would a pretty human boy who plays with demons late at night want to know what they did behind closed doors? What made you want to learn the best and quickest way to get a demon randy and possessive? Tell your Master boy, come on, tell your Master, there’s a good boy…”
How could Xander refuse? “Because it’s what I wanted!” He clapped his hands over his mouth tightly, holding in a full throated screaming sob with a white knuckled grip. He’d said it, admitted it, admitted it to the bleached menace when he’d never fully admitted it to himself before.
He forcefully pulled his locked hands away from his face and admitted the rest, “I wanted it and I have it and this is all my fault! I got Buffy killed, no one is looking for me because they all think I’m with my cousin but my cousin never found me so he probably thinks dad didn’t let me go. I did this, I made this, this is all my fault and I didn’t want it! Not like this!” He was sobbing again, and once more Spike was rocking him tenderly while petting his drying hair.
“Doesn’t mean you can’t like it. Doesn’t mean it’s wrong to live the life you’ve always dreamed. And if it’s not exactly what you dreamed your fantasies were, doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy this too. You’re mine pet, my lovely boy, my human, my pup. I’ll teach you what your body craves and needs, and you’ll thank me for it well before the end. It’s what you are and what you’ll be.” He felt Spike kiss his temple while he kept crying.
“Besides, you’re mine now boy, and I never give up what’s mine.”
Previous Chapter: Chapter 17A - Pet
Next Chapter: Chapter 18 - Deprivation
All parts found on this prompt chart or in my memories.