FIC - Inside Out
Title: Inside Out
Pairing: Spike/Wesley, also mentions of other AtS characters.
Rating: Hard R
Word Count: ~1450
Warnings: BDSM themes, punishment , humiliation, foul language.
A/N: I wrote this for the meme at the journal of whichclothes, and immediately follows my last story entitled Give Him An Inch. The prompt was: Spike tries desperately to hide that he's been spanked, but he can't sit down, and everyone knows anyway.
Still looking straight down at the carpet, Spike turned to follow Wesley out of Angel’s office when he was directed to do so. Angel was sitting at his desk, not looking at either of them, and the door clicked shut behind them softly.
When he did chance a look up, what he saw was the last thing he wished for - Harmony, standing at her station by the phones, giving him a sympathetic little smile. Goddamnit, she’d heard the whole thing, Spike thought, of course. He looked around a little more, grateful to see there wasn’t anyone else standing around the immediate area, certainly no one with Harmony’s heightened sense of hearing, anyway.
He must have slowed down while he was casing the lobby, because Wesley looked back at him with impatience. “Keep moving, Spike, your dawdling isn’t going to get you out of any trouble.” Spike immediately sped up to follow Wes more closely, but he knew Harmony would have heard that part, too. Bugger all. Bad enough that Angel and Charlie had seen him spanked and sent to the corner, he certainly could have done without Harmony’s pitying glances. No time to worry about it now, though, and nothing could be done to change it. Just like nothing could be done to change the fact that what he’d experienced just half an hour earlier would likely pale in comparison to what was waiting for him once they walked the four blocks back to their place.
Anticipation was, many times, one of the worst parts of being punished, so Spike figured he ought to be glad he’d have it overwith so quickly. At least then he could spend the rest of the night watching his CW shows and feeling sorry for himself while Wesley returned to the office for the conference he’d heard Wes discussing with Angel.
Once inside their apartment, Wesley didn’t waste a moment. He was a stickler for punctuality (another lesson Spike had learned the hard way, months earlier), and there was no way he was going to allow his responsibility to Spike interfere with his obligation to turn up to his next meeting on time.
“Turn around and look at me, Spike”, Wes said evenly as soon as they were in the door. Spike looked up right away and was immediately met with a sharp backhand to his left cheek, which he took almost without flinching, and with only the slightest sting of wetness in his eyes. Being slapped like that was humiliating, even without anyone around to see it. Wes hit hard, too, enough that there would be a mark, even if only for a couple of hours. “How dare you put me in a position to have to discipline you like that, while we’re working and in front of other people? I don’t know what you were thinking, but I’m going to make damn sure this is something that does not happen again. Ever. Do you understand me?”
“Of course, Wesley, I’m sorry, honestly, I really didn’t think-”
“You not thinking, yes, that much was clear from the way you behaved. I know you think you got the worst of it, you’re embarrassed that I belted you at the office, but how do you think it makes me feel? Makes me look? Everyone knows you’re expected to do as I say, and you just put it on display that maybe doing as I say isn’t so important to you.”
Those words were totally not what Spike expected, and they hurt more than the slap to his face. “No, Wesley, please, don’t say that. It is important to me, really, I am so very sorry, I never meant to make you think that, to make anyone think that, I swear.”
At that point, Wesley sighed and responded, “I suppose you didn’t. But that’s how it looked, regardless. Now, go on to the bedroom. You know what to do, strip and lie on the bed, face down. I’ll join you in a moment.”
Dejected, Spike did as he was told, and true to his word, Wesley was there next to him within a minute or two. “Do I need to restrain you, Spike? Or can you be still for this?”, he asked, as he once again reached to remove his belt.
“I can be still. I promise.”
“Let’s hope so. We haven’t got a lot of time and I don’t want to have to keep starting over because you can’t maintain your position.”
With that, the talking ceased and the whipping began. Wesley’s belt fell over and over again across Spike’s bottom and the backs of his legs. Spike held on for dear life to the bedding underneath him, but as promised, he did not move as the blows kept coming, even after he was outright crying and begging Wesley to stop, swearing never to misbehave in any way, ever again, ever, not ever.
Finally, Wesley dropped the belt and sat down on the bed. “There now, darling, you did so well”, he said, carding his fingers through Spike’s hair. “I’ll give you a minute to catch your breath, but then I want you to take a shower and get dressed so we can get back to the office.”
Spike froze, then looked up at Wesley with a puzzled expression. “You want me to go with you to your conference?” He really had been looking forward to wallowing in self-pity alone at home for a while after all this. And he wasn’t needed for this meeting, he knew that.
“Yes, I want you to attend. I’m going to give you an opportunity to make up for your earlier misbehavior.”
Oh, how fucking kind of you, Wesley, Spike thought, but obviously didn’t say. So much for his plan to drown his sorrows in raunchy telly and a few beers. He knew this was a test, though, and it really was a way for him to redeem himself, so he just got up and did as he was told.
The short walk back to the office gave him his first clue. He was a bit stiff, the fabric of his clothing against his abused skin making him move very carefully. He already knew there was a bruise on his cheek. It was small but there was no way it wouldn’t be noticed.
Settling back down around the conference table in Angel’s office, they were joined again by Charlie and Angel, who avoided looking at him. It was obvious that Charlie’s hackles were up a bit once he saw the bruise on Spike’s face, but he didn’t say anything. Now, though, they had been joined by Fred, Lindsey and Lorne as well. And of course, to add in just a little extra humiliation, Harmony was sitting with them, ready to take down notes to be typed up later.
As everyone was gathering, Spike tried unsuccessfully to find a comfortable position in his chair, but it was impossible. It was also, apparently, obvious. Fred leaned over and whispered in Charlie’s ear, probably thinking she was quiet enough for Spike not to know what she was asking. “What’s wrong with Spike? He’s all squirmy and not looking at anyone. And he’s got-” When Charlie just gave her a look that clearly telegraphed don’t ask, she guessed immediately what must have happened. One of the few childhood experiences she and Gunn shared was the impossible task of trying to sit still after having received a sound spanking. She shut up and tried to focus on the agenda for tonight’s staff meeting.
Harmony gave him another sympathetic look, and Lorne just patted him on the shoulder as he walked past, but it was clear that he knew, too. Lindsey just shot a smirk and a fake pouty-face at him from across the table. Unfortunately, Wesley’s quiet warning for Spike to be still came too late. By then, everyone in the room knew he’d just been punished. Fan-fucking-tastic.
“All right, let’s get started. Harmony, are you ready to begin taking all this down?”, asked Angel.
“You got it, boss. Ready when you are”, she replied with a bright smile.
Spike could only hope his lack of ability to sit comfortably would not make it into the minutes.
Additional A/N: The song Lorne heard Wesley humming in the first story, and the one used for the title of this one can be found here, if you’re interested: http://youtu.be/TBS6N1k4FsQ
Pairing: Spike/Wesley, also mentions of other AtS characters.
Rating: Hard R
Word Count: ~1450
Warnings: BDSM themes, punishment , humiliation, foul language.
A/N: I wrote this for the meme at the journal of whichclothes, and immediately follows my last story entitled Give Him An Inch. The prompt was: Spike tries desperately to hide that he's been spanked, but he can't sit down, and everyone knows anyway.
Still looking straight down at the carpet, Spike turned to follow Wesley out of Angel’s office when he was directed to do so. Angel was sitting at his desk, not looking at either of them, and the door clicked shut behind them softly.
When he did chance a look up, what he saw was the last thing he wished for - Harmony, standing at her station by the phones, giving him a sympathetic little smile. Goddamnit, she’d heard the whole thing, Spike thought, of course. He looked around a little more, grateful to see there wasn’t anyone else standing around the immediate area, certainly no one with Harmony’s heightened sense of hearing, anyway.
He must have slowed down while he was casing the lobby, because Wesley looked back at him with impatience. “Keep moving, Spike, your dawdling isn’t going to get you out of any trouble.” Spike immediately sped up to follow Wes more closely, but he knew Harmony would have heard that part, too. Bugger all. Bad enough that Angel and Charlie had seen him spanked and sent to the corner, he certainly could have done without Harmony’s pitying glances. No time to worry about it now, though, and nothing could be done to change it. Just like nothing could be done to change the fact that what he’d experienced just half an hour earlier would likely pale in comparison to what was waiting for him once they walked the four blocks back to their place.
Anticipation was, many times, one of the worst parts of being punished, so Spike figured he ought to be glad he’d have it overwith so quickly. At least then he could spend the rest of the night watching his CW shows and feeling sorry for himself while Wesley returned to the office for the conference he’d heard Wes discussing with Angel.
Once inside their apartment, Wesley didn’t waste a moment. He was a stickler for punctuality (another lesson Spike had learned the hard way, months earlier), and there was no way he was going to allow his responsibility to Spike interfere with his obligation to turn up to his next meeting on time.
“Turn around and look at me, Spike”, Wes said evenly as soon as they were in the door. Spike looked up right away and was immediately met with a sharp backhand to his left cheek, which he took almost without flinching, and with only the slightest sting of wetness in his eyes. Being slapped like that was humiliating, even without anyone around to see it. Wes hit hard, too, enough that there would be a mark, even if only for a couple of hours. “How dare you put me in a position to have to discipline you like that, while we’re working and in front of other people? I don’t know what you were thinking, but I’m going to make damn sure this is something that does not happen again. Ever. Do you understand me?”
“Of course, Wesley, I’m sorry, honestly, I really didn’t think-”
“You not thinking, yes, that much was clear from the way you behaved. I know you think you got the worst of it, you’re embarrassed that I belted you at the office, but how do you think it makes me feel? Makes me look? Everyone knows you’re expected to do as I say, and you just put it on display that maybe doing as I say isn’t so important to you.”
Those words were totally not what Spike expected, and they hurt more than the slap to his face. “No, Wesley, please, don’t say that. It is important to me, really, I am so very sorry, I never meant to make you think that, to make anyone think that, I swear.”
At that point, Wesley sighed and responded, “I suppose you didn’t. But that’s how it looked, regardless. Now, go on to the bedroom. You know what to do, strip and lie on the bed, face down. I’ll join you in a moment.”
Dejected, Spike did as he was told, and true to his word, Wesley was there next to him within a minute or two. “Do I need to restrain you, Spike? Or can you be still for this?”, he asked, as he once again reached to remove his belt.
“I can be still. I promise.”
“Let’s hope so. We haven’t got a lot of time and I don’t want to have to keep starting over because you can’t maintain your position.”
With that, the talking ceased and the whipping began. Wesley’s belt fell over and over again across Spike’s bottom and the backs of his legs. Spike held on for dear life to the bedding underneath him, but as promised, he did not move as the blows kept coming, even after he was outright crying and begging Wesley to stop, swearing never to misbehave in any way, ever again, ever, not ever.
Finally, Wesley dropped the belt and sat down on the bed. “There now, darling, you did so well”, he said, carding his fingers through Spike’s hair. “I’ll give you a minute to catch your breath, but then I want you to take a shower and get dressed so we can get back to the office.”
Spike froze, then looked up at Wesley with a puzzled expression. “You want me to go with you to your conference?” He really had been looking forward to wallowing in self-pity alone at home for a while after all this. And he wasn’t needed for this meeting, he knew that.
“Yes, I want you to attend. I’m going to give you an opportunity to make up for your earlier misbehavior.”
Oh, how fucking kind of you, Wesley, Spike thought, but obviously didn’t say. So much for his plan to drown his sorrows in raunchy telly and a few beers. He knew this was a test, though, and it really was a way for him to redeem himself, so he just got up and did as he was told.
The short walk back to the office gave him his first clue. He was a bit stiff, the fabric of his clothing against his abused skin making him move very carefully. He already knew there was a bruise on his cheek. It was small but there was no way it wouldn’t be noticed.
Settling back down around the conference table in Angel’s office, they were joined again by Charlie and Angel, who avoided looking at him. It was obvious that Charlie’s hackles were up a bit once he saw the bruise on Spike’s face, but he didn’t say anything. Now, though, they had been joined by Fred, Lindsey and Lorne as well. And of course, to add in just a little extra humiliation, Harmony was sitting with them, ready to take down notes to be typed up later.
As everyone was gathering, Spike tried unsuccessfully to find a comfortable position in his chair, but it was impossible. It was also, apparently, obvious. Fred leaned over and whispered in Charlie’s ear, probably thinking she was quiet enough for Spike not to know what she was asking. “What’s wrong with Spike? He’s all squirmy and not looking at anyone. And he’s got-” When Charlie just gave her a look that clearly telegraphed don’t ask, she guessed immediately what must have happened. One of the few childhood experiences she and Gunn shared was the impossible task of trying to sit still after having received a sound spanking. She shut up and tried to focus on the agenda for tonight’s staff meeting.
Harmony gave him another sympathetic look, and Lorne just patted him on the shoulder as he walked past, but it was clear that he knew, too. Lindsey just shot a smirk and a fake pouty-face at him from across the table. Unfortunately, Wesley’s quiet warning for Spike to be still came too late. By then, everyone in the room knew he’d just been punished. Fan-fucking-tastic.
“All right, let’s get started. Harmony, are you ready to begin taking all this down?”, asked Angel.
“You got it, boss. Ready when you are”, she replied with a bright smile.
Spike could only hope his lack of ability to sit comfortably would not make it into the minutes.
Additional A/N: The song Lorne heard Wesley humming in the first story, and the one used for the title of this one can be found here, if you’re interested: http://youtu.be/TBS6N1k4FsQ