How to Treat Your Lover

Tuscany, 1883

If Drusilla was going to leave her childe unattended then Angelus had best make use of him. Since no one else was around to torture, who better than William, or Spike, as he had called himself these days? Hence, the reason they were in an unused bedroom of the house they had rented – well, not so much rented, as killed the owners and took it.

Angelus had a naked Spike hanging from the ceiling by a sturdy steel bar. The blonde vampire hung there with his arms above his head. Each lash that the older vampire administered broke tiny slivers of skin all over the younger vampire’s back and torso. Every swing drew an intake of breath from him. Each crack of the whip did more than welt the skin; it bruised, stung and finally created narrow, shallow cuts that quickly healed and were replaced by new cuts.

Spike gritted his teeth with every stinging pain of the short strip of leather that his Grandsire used. The cutting pain repelled him just as much as it aroused him. Every pore in his body throbbed and inflamed into a mass of abused flesh.

Soon Spike couldn’t hide the telltale signs of his response to Angelus’ treatment. The awareness was too much. Angelus continued the onslaught until every fiber of Spike’s being, every pore of his skin, every nerve hummed to life and sent frisson after frisson of electricity through his body straight to his cock. Spike’s shaft hardened to painful proportions, even as he balled his hands up against the throbbing; his nails slicing into his palms to keep from crying out.

When Angelus saw that Spike was as hard as he would ever be, he stepped back and went to a small table. He put the whip down and picked up a soft leather cock ring. He turned back to face Spike and went to stand in front of the other vampire. Reaching down, Angelus wrapping his big hand around his grandchilde’s cock and stroked quickly until he wrung a cry out of Spike. Then he placed the ring on the younger vampire’s shaft at the base.

“Bloody hell!” Spike swore under his breath. Angelus was surely going to kill him from this new torment.

Angelus grinned at Spike evilly before unbinding his hands from their restraints. Tugging the younger vampire over to the bed, he sat back against the headboard and pulled the blonde between his legs. Angelus gripped Spike’s hair and pulled back making the blonde vampire’s lips open before thrusting his cock into his mouth and down his throat in one thrust.

Angelus held on to his grandchilde’s head and proceeded to thrust his cock into a mouth that was, at first, slack, but then began to suck tight around his thick shaft. Angelus groaned in response when he felt a moan from his grandchilde vibrate around his engorged length.

Angelus felt that the first step in teaching Spike was obedience toward his elders. That was the lesson for tonight as he maneuvered Spike’s mouth in all the right ways with a firm hand on the back of his grandchilde’s head.

Angel rubbed his shaft through his jeans at the vivid memory of what it felt like to have his entire cock buried to the hilt in Spike’s throat. He pulled his hardened member free and proceeded to pump his hand over the length of his manhood while imagining the blonde vampire’s cool mouth engulfing him, drawing forth his orgasm. Angel moaned and groaned in guttural growls as he tightened his grip on his shaft. His hand moved faster and harder until he growled out his childe’s name, and his cool release coated his hand.

Sunnydale, UC Sunnydale Campus

What was with vampires fighting in the Quad? Buffy thought as she kicked the vampire in the chest, knocking him on his back and running away from the view of the prying eyes of college students. She had to relocate this fight to a less conspicuous place. The vampire rolled to his feet and chased after her to a secluded area of the campus.

Once she reached a good spot, she turned and faced the vampire. “Thanks for the relocate. I perform better without an audience.” Buffy started laying her fists and kicks into the vampire, pummeling him. “What? You were thinking a little helpless coed before bed? You know very well, you eat this late . . .” Buffy took a moment to stake the vampire when she finally had him at a disadvantage. “You’re gonna get heartburn. Get it? Heartburn?”

The vampire dusted without giving a reaction to Buffy’s quipping remarks. Buffy gave a disgusted look at the dust at her feet. “That’s it? That’s all I get: one lame-ass vampire with no appreciation for my painstakingly thought-out puns? I don’t think the forces of darkness are even trying. I mean, you could make a little effort here. You know, give me something to work with.”

Buffy walked by a decorative shrub, only to be grabbed from behind and pulled back against a hard-muscled chest with a hand clamped over her mouth.

“Watch your mouth, little girl. You should know better than to tempt the fates that way. ‘Cause the Big Bad is back,” Spike’s voice purred near her ear.

An erotic shiver she hadn’t felt in a long while ran down her back and pooled between her thighs when she heard the distinctive British voice fan her ear. Finally, here was someone worthy of a good thrashing and my puns. Buffy squirmed against Spike to get away from him. Spike’s grip tightened on her, though.

“Going somewhere, pet?” Spike asked in a light sarcastic tone.

Buffy gripped Spike’s wrist and used his body weight to flip him over her back and on to the ground at her feet. She straddled his waist and held a stake poised above his heart. Spike raised his hands up in quick surrender. His blue eyes bored into her hazel ones.

“I give up!” Spike said immediately. “I’m not here to hurt you, but if you want to spar, let me up and we’ll have a go at it.”

“Newsflash, Spike: you’re a vampire, I’m a slayer. Of course you’re here to hurt me,” Buffy said in aggravation.

“Well, yeah, you being my enemy and all. But I’ve come to call a truce,” Spike said.

“A truce with an evil, soulless, vampire? No thanks,” Buffy said and drew back the stake to plunge it in Spike’s heart.

Spike grabbed the stake, wrapping his fingers around her hand, stopping its descent. “Yes, well none of us has a choice in this now do we,” Spike said sarcastically.

“What are you talking about, Spike?” Buffy asked, confused.

“Bloody hell! Nothing,” Spike swore under his breath in agitation.

Spike ground his teeth, threw her off him and got up. He glared at her before he turned on his heel and walked away from her. He had to find a place to sleep for the next 48 hours. The drive to L.A. to torture his Sire, have a talk with the ponce that had him agreeing to come back here to watch over the little bint had taken its toll on his sleep-deprived body. What in the unholy bloody hell made him agree with his Sire to come back here to Sunnydale to look after his ex-girlfriend?

Buffy was left standing there in a confused state watching Spike walk away from her shaking his head as if he were mulling something over with himself. The blonde vampire was an enigma to her. He was a cross between upper-crust English bred, lower-crust English morals, barroom brawler that matched her in fighting skills, street-smart and book-savvy all rolled into one. Spike had a lot of personality for being undead, soulless and evil.

Buffy ran after Spike until she caught up with him walking through the cemetery. “Hey, wait up! What did you mean by, ‘none of us had a choice in the matter’?” She grabbed his coat sleeve and turned him around.

Spike heaved a sigh of agitation and faced her. “Look, I just got back from a very long two days. I’m tired and hungry. So, unless you’re offering your neck as a chalice and body as a vessel, then I suggest you find another Big Baddie to fight tonight, luv.”

Spike’s crude words repulsed her even as a shiver ran down her spine. She supposed she’d leave the topic for now and let him be. Although, for the life of her she didn’t understand why she wanted to know why he was back here anyway. Harmony was still around Sunnydale not making much noise as far as dead bodies piling up. Maybe he was going back to her.

Buffy cringed at the thought of Harmony, even an undead Harmony, getting to be around the gorgeous vampire. What the hell was she thinking? Spike . . . gorgeous? Not only that, but I’m jealous of Harmony for being able to be around him? She was the Vampire Slayer; she couldn’t be thinking fuzzy, warm feelings for the undead. Well, that was her rule at least since Angel left her.

Spike sighed in relief when he realized Buffy was no longer following him. The last thing he needed was her following him around like a lost puppy nipping at his heels. Just because he agreed to watch her back didn’t mean that he wanted to get stuck baby-sitting her 24 hours a day. He found a suitable crypt and promptly fell asleep the second he found a comfortable position on the sarcophagus inside.

Tuscany, 1883

Drusilla had left him to his own devices nowadays while she traipsed off with or without Darla for something else to play with for a while. Spike was hurt that she had lost interest in him after two years of debauchery. Other than the feeling of abandonment by his Sire, he thought nothing of how she left or that she left him with Angelus.

It wasn’t until a week had passed that he noticed Angelus looking at him as if he were the finest choice of meat in the butcher shop. After the initial meeting with his Grandsire, in which the older vampire tested his worthiness as a man and fellow hunting companion, Angelus had, for the most part let him be. Until now.

Angelus had grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him down the hallway to an unused bedroom of the house they had rented – well, not so much rented, as Angelus and Darla killed the owners and took it.

Angelus had him naked and hanging from the ceiling by a sturdy steel bar. Spike hung there with his arms above his head. Each flog that the older vampire administered broke tiny slivers of skin all over his back and torso. Every thrash drew an intake of breath from him. Each crack of the whip did more than welt the skin; it bruised, stung and finally created narrow, shallow cuts that quickly healed and were replaced by new cuts.

Spike gritted his teeth against every nipping pain of the short strip of leather that his Grandsire used. His body responded against his will as the whipping made ever fiber of his undead being sing. The pain turned to pleasure and as much as he tried to hide his body’s reaction from Angelus, it just couldn’t be done. Upon his turning, Drusilla never explained the pleasure a vampire derived from pain, either causing it or receiving it. As a human he was brought up as any ordinary man to fear pain. But his vampire-enhanced senses afforded him a new outlook on pleasure and pain. It felt different. Each new tingle brought a new sensation of soreness behind it. As his body became used to the monotonous motion of the lashing, the pain became erotic.

Soon Spike could only hang there with his cock sticking straight out, belying the pleasure he derived from Angelus’ treatment. The feeling was too much for his overridden senses. He closed his eyes so that he didn’t have to look Angelus in the eye as his body betrayed him. With his eyes shut tight, he let his body relax and sway to the strike of the whip across his pale skin until every fiber of his being, every pore of his skin; every nerve hummed and registered through his body straight to his dick. Spike’s shaft hardened to painful proportions even as he balled his hands up against the throbbing, his nails slicing into his palms to keep from crying out.

When Spike’s body had reached its pinnacle, he felt Angelus step back. He opened his eyes in time to see his Grandsire move to a small table. The elder vampire put the whip down and picked up a soft leather cock ring. He turned back to face the blonde and went to stand in front of him. Spike’s eyes followed Angelus’ every movement as he reached down, wrapped a big hand around his cock and stroked quickly until a cry rang out of him. Then Angelus placed the ring on the younger vampire’s shaft at the base.

“Bloody hell!” Spike swore under his breath. Angelus was surely going to kill him from this new torment.

Angelus grinned at Spike evilly before unbinding his hands from their restraints. Tugging the younger vampire over to the bed, he sat back against the head board and pulled the blonde between his legs. Angelus gripped Spike’s hair and pulled back making the blonde vampire’s lips open before thrusting his cock into his mouth and down his throat in one thrust.

Angelus held on to his grandchilde’s head and proceeded to thrust his cock into a mouth that was, at first, slack, but then began to suck tight around his thick shaft. Angelus groaned in response when he felt a moan from his grandchilde vibrate around his engorged length.

Spike had never thought of himself as a poof but then he had been a virgin up until he met Drusilla. For some odd reason, being in this position with Angelus didn’t seem entirely wrong, just different.

When Angelus thrust his cock down the blonde’s throat Spike realized that as an undead being, he didn’t need to breathe to sustain his life. With this new knowledge, he wanted to test the longevity, closed his throat around his grandsire’s cock and proceeded to suck the flesh off the hardened muscle. He licked the length of the shaft from tip to base and back with each pass, taking the cock to the root and then releasing it slowly.

Spike felt a shiver run down his spine when he heard Angelus’ groan in response to his own growl around the appendage in his mouth. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the task and let Angelus direct him by a hand on his head as the elder vampire sought pleasure.

Spike moaned in his sleep as the vivid dreams of days long gone teased his body. Even though he was asleep, with vampire senses on alert to any intruder that may show up, he was well aware of the hardened state of his body. The way the fly of his jeans chafed his cock wasn’t helping matters by any means, either, or the act of nearly releasing himself at the memory of how Angelus took him that night.

Spike opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of the crypt for a while before his stomach growled at him. He growled back and rose to stand. Instead of using the door and quite possibly running into the Slayer he took the ladder to the lower level of the crypt and went through the sewers.

He came out of the sewer entrance near the college only to see a group of commando-dressed boys with weapons approaching. He slunk back into the shadows and watched them pass by. When the coast was clear, Spike took off for his crypt to hide out for the time being.

Los Angeles, Angel’s Apartment

Angel was sitting on his couch deep in thought. It wasn’t the work that was getting to him. He was fine with the day-to-day chaos that had become his life here in Los Angeles.

There was the dismemberment of a psychic-surgeon who was stalking his client. He had buried the good doctor in twelve steel boxes in twenty cubic feet of concrete in the floor of L.A.’s newest subway station. That was a case he’d rather never have to repeat again.

Then there was ridding Cordelia’s new apartment of its resident evil ghost because the ex-cheerleader refused to move to another apartment only to gain her a good ghost in the end. He hoped Denis-the-Ghost had the patience to deal with her.

Then there was the sensitivity training case. Kate Lockley’s precinct had decided that their officers needed to bone up on their manners in dealing with criminals. The whole thing had turned the police station into a bunch of grown men sobbing over each other. He had to hand it to Kate though, she had poured her heart out to her father, however he would have chosen a better time than the old man’s retirement party, but hey! Who was he to judge?

Kate, herself, now there was something he hadn’t counted on when he had moved here. Angel didn’t know if she liked or hated him these days. Some days she was the nicest person in the world and helping him with cases, and other times they butted heads over the proper way to deal with the demon thugs he had to deal with every night. He wanted to be her friend and help her as well, but at this rate, he didn’t think a friendship or even a nice acquaintance was going to last long with her.

No, it wasn’t the cases he was working that were getting to him. It was when he finally fell asleep. He dreamed of Spike and his time with the blonde vampire. When slumber finally claimed him, unbidden images of the time in Tuscany where he had spent days and nights claiming the boy from Drusilla.

Drusilla was lonely and wanted someone of her own that she didn’t want to share with Darla. Angelus and Darla had suggested she find a playmate. When William had literally run into them in a crying fit, Drusilla couldn’t pass up the opportunity to follow the beautiful boy. She tracked him to the barn where he was sobbing in silence over some selfish bitch that didn’t return his favor.

When she had turned him and brought him home to show Angelus her creation, the older vampire thought he was waste of good Aurelian blood. William didn’t seem to have a vicious bone in his body, and would not likely survive on his own if he wasn’t shown the ropes and how to live like a vampire.

As with all childer who thought the moon rose and fell on their Sire, William thought that Drusilla was his salvation, his destiny. She had turned him to be her mate. That first lesson of whom and what belonged to a person was a hard one for William to learn.

In reality, Drusilla had turned him to be a companion for her when Angelus was busy with Darla and didn’t have time for her. It seemed like it took forever for William to understand that. That he was merely a stand-in for when Angelus couldn’t be there and to deal with Drusilla’s hysterics when Angelus refused to.

Once William had figured out that there was no belonging or deserving anymore, that you could take what you want, have what you want, but nothing was yours, not even your Sire. Once he had learned that, he changed his name to Spike and went on a killing spree with fangs and railroad spikes as his implements of torture.

When the body count started piling up to where not even the four of them could show their faces in cities such as London and Yorkshire without fear of a mob that was when Angelus finally had to curb his grandchilde’s bloodlust.

He may have had to curb Spike’s tendency for the macabre, but that didn’t stop him from admiring his grandchilde’s destructive nature, a majority, if not all, of which Angelus himself had inspired and encouraged. It was then, when Spike had become as deadly as himself, that he decided to override Drusilla’s claim as Sire on the boy and make Spike his childe.

Tuscany, 1883

A vampire’s internal clock relied on scents. The demon in them could smell the rising and setting sun long before it occurred. Where humans relied on weathervanes and the crowing of roosters to alert them to the early morning hours, a vampire could sense the approaching sun hours before the sky turned gray in the pre-dawn of the new day. The sunset was no different. The demon knew when it was safe to come out of hiding to feed.

Angelus awoke at dusk and explored the room by demon-sight. Even though he was a 130-year-old vampire, he refused to live underground like the Master. He preferred soft beds and luxurious estates. He enjoyed engaging with the aristocracy even as he mocked them.

He had hunted and shared this cottage, this room with Spike for nary two weeks now. It took him a week to soften the boy to his gentle touch. Something he had never bothered with before. With Penn, he never took the time to turn the boy toward him. In fact, whenever he made a childe, he’d just as soon get them out of his hair as keep them around.

Ah, but then Drusilla was another matter. Drusilla was his favored child, as he hoped Spike would be by the end of this little retreat when the girls returned to the fold once again. He had spent far too much time and energy on his insane childe to abandon her to her own devices. He had made her so delusional that she could never be safe by herself. No matter how vicious a killer she was.

Angelus turned his head to gaze upon the handsome face beside him framed with soft honeyed curls. Spike had become his mirrored image. He was a beautiful specimen even with the feelings of love, affection and adoration he still kept with him despite the fact he was a soulless demon who shouldn’t care at all about anything aside from death, destruction and survival. Darla abhorred the very idea of Angelus letting Drusilla keep the boy, but then Darla missed the potential in any demon accept the Master, herself or Angelus.

The dark vampire reached out and trailed his fingertips through the soft, golden hair of his sleeping companion. He smiled when Spike pressed into his touch and a purr vibrated in his chest. Angelus followed the shuddering movement of the blonde’s body with his hand stroking down Spike’s chest to his abdomen.

Spike shifted under the gentle touch until Angelus’ huge hand had a tight grip on his cock and pumped his shaft in a slow, but sure caress. His eyes snapped open to meet his grandsire’s heated gaze. He couldn’t figure out what Angelus was up to. The past two weeks had confused him. Before this little trip, he thought for sure his Grandsire hated his guts and couldn’t wait to be rid of him. In the past two weeks, though, Angelus seemed to want anything but having him gone.

Angelus had taken him out and shared in the hunt for food, taught him how to lure his prey closer, how to romance them into going anywhere he wanted them to be before feeding. Angelus had taught him the difference between a feeding and a kill. His Grandsire had taught him that he could have anyone he desired, no matter the age or gender, and take it either rough and viciously or slow and intimately.

When they had come back to the house, Angelus had celebrated their generous feedings by teaching him that a vampire held no reservations about their desired sexual partners. Angelus had wanted him and he intended to have him.

Angelus gave Spike a seductive and evil grin that ran a tremor of excitement through the blonde’s body straight to his cock. The shaft jumped in the hand that held it and stroked it thoroughly.

‘Oh, God,’ Spike thought. ‘I’m going to come if he doesn’t stop soon.’

Angelus bent his head down to lick Spike’s neck with his rough demon-tongue at the same time he moved his hand down to massage the younger vampire’s sac.

Spike nearly fainted at the touch, every nerve in his dead body sizzled under his grandsire’s attention. He let his thighs fall apart, granting Angelus better access to his rock-hard cock. It was then, when Angelus took advantage of the offer, that Spike opened his eyes to collide with the pure lust in the eyes of his companion.

“What are you doing Angelus?” Spike asked his voice gravelly with sexual tension.

“I’m just going to stake my claim, my boy. You know, our Drusilla is a crazy girl. She’d never care for you properly as a Sire should. Believe me, when I tell you, I’m not faulting her, but she’s like a childe who’s become bored with a favored toy. You’d never survive under her care. So, I’m claiming you as my childe,” Angelus explained while he continued to stroke the length of Spike’s cock and caress his balls.

All Spike could do in response was moan as his Grandsire kept him on this side of achieving a blissful orgasm.

Angelus smashed his lips against Spike’s mouth in a hard, demanding kiss. When the younger vampire acquiesced to the dominance in that kiss, Angelus released him and stared at him, seeking his reaction as he thrust his own harden cock against Spike’s.

Spike growled at Angelus when he felt his grandsire’s huge hand wrap around both shafts and stroked them together. He shifted his hips off the bed in a rocking motion, thrusting and pulling his cock back and forth in the other vampire’s grip. Angelus started to bite him in another demanding kiss, nipping his tender lips with fangs until they both bled, the rich liquid trickling down their chins and throat. The heady scent of fresh blood filled the air, sending their arousal even higher.

Angelus used the pre-cum that had begun to leak out of both their cocks to wet his fingers. He pulled back from Spike again to watch the younger vampire’s reaction as he reached down lower, under the balls, to tease his tight passage.

Spike sucked in an unneeded breath when he felt Angelus’ fingers enter his body, readying him for what was to come. He was about to buck his hips against the thrusting fingers when they stopped and pulled away from him leaving him feeling empty.

The next thing Spike knew he was being flipped over on his stomach; Angelus grabbed his hip and thrust his cock deep into Spike’s wet, but unprepared channel, making the blonde cry out in agony. The pain was still there when Angelus gripped his slowly deflating cock and stroked it in time with his thrusts.

Animalistic growls sounded behind him, punctuating every deep, hard thrust that Angelus delivered to Spike’s body. The angle in which his Grandsire had him positioned caused each forceful plunge to strike the small bundle of nerves deep inside Spike turning his cries of pain to moans of ecstasy.

Angelus reveled in his grandchilde’s responses as he pounded in and out of Spike, becoming more forceful and speeding up the tempo of his hips whenever the younger vampire’s unnecessary breath hitched in his throat. Soon the gasping breaths turned to cries for more until Angelus could stand no more and swooped down on his boy’s throat and attacked with a lustful vengeance.

Spike growled at the feel of Angelus’ fangs viciously attacking his jugular vein. Though, once the ivory points were embedded in his flesh, his Grandsire drank from him gently, almost lovingly drawing out his blood, as if he were savoring all the flavors that washed over his tongue. Almost.

Angelus’ driving cock slowed to near-erotic thrusts that pushed deep and hard against Spike’s prostate, sending jolt after quaking jolt of sexual electricity through the blonde vampire’s body. The pace of Angelus’ movement virtually had Spike losing himself all over the sheets and Angelus’ hand.

Angelus retracted his fangs enough to whisper against Spike’s ear, “Don’t you dare come yet, boy.”

Spike growled at the command but willed himself not to come even though his companion’s withdraw from his body threatened to undo him. Angelus turned him on his back and gripped his cock again before lying over Spike and offering the other vampire his throat.

“Drink, William,” Angelus commanded as he stroked Spike’s cock slowly.

Spike groaned as the pleasure started to build inside him again. He felt his fangs descend and with an impious growl, sank his teeth into the proffered neck. Angelus growled at the invasion before rhythmically stroking Spike’s dick in time with the drawls the younger vampire took on his blood.

While Spike drank his fill, Angelus whispered the incantation of the ritual. “By the Order of Aurelius, I will thee, William the Bloody, to step forward and claim his place alongside my favored childe, Drusilla. You are now and forever shall remain my own as long as my blood runs direct through your veins.”

Spike drank, barely discerning the words his Grandsire spoke, until the familial taste of the blood that was at first laced with familiarity had turned to the most delicious ambrosia he had ever tasted in his entire existence. At the first wave of lightheadedness, Angelus tugged on Spike’s hair and growled in command to retract his fangs. Spike reluctantly obeyed, pulling back from Angelus and relaxing into the mattress.

Spike would have been content to merely lay there and fall asleep, but his raging hard on which was still in Angelus’ firm, but gently-stroking, grip was threatening to explode if it didn’t get some relief soon.

“Sire?” Spike asked in a pleading voice as his stared up at Angelus through a haze of passion.

“Yes, my childe?” Angelus inquired, pleased that Spike had taken to the change immediately.

“Please, stroke me, fuck me, I don’t care . . . just please let me come!” Spike begged in an erratic voice laced with pent up tension.