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Dead Soul
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Angst/horror
Pairings: Spike/Drusilla, Spike/Sunday, Drusilla/Sunday, Spike/Drusilla/Sunday
Warnings: BDSM, non-consensual sex, violence, bloodplay, language, f/f slash,
inappropriate humor - all the good stuff
Disclaimers: Story and chapter titles are titles of Blondie songs. (I thought
about being careful with song dates and such but, like Spike, I got bored. Any
anachronisms are either intentional or so the hell what.) The usual disclaimers
for both characters and song titles. The only things I own are the things I
steal from dorm rooms. No, that sweater doesn't make you look fat. It just makes
you look purple
Distribution: Want? Take, have. But please let me know where
Feedback: Keeps the bloodlust in check, mailto:deadsoul820@aol.com
or drop me a comment on my LiveJournal, Dead Soul
Summary: Spike, Drusilla and Sunday in New York City, 1977. Ever wonder where Sunday (BtVS, Season 4, "The Freshman") came from? Why her fashion sense seems familiar, not to mention her attitude? She tells her story.
The dryer buzzed and I pulled out the warm clean clothes. I hurried into the black clothes I'd selected in case Spike had heard the buzz and was coming to let me out. I needn't have bothered. He didn't come. I folded the other clean clothes then, to pass the time, started another load, choosing things that looked like they would fit me or looked like something Spike would wear. The dryer was making the room very hot and steamy and I took off the black sweater before I could sweat it dirty again.
I could have tried pounding on the door to let Spike know I was ready to come out, but maybe he'd gone out and I didn't want to wake up Drusilla. Besides, I was nervous. I'd decided to do something I'd never done before - make the first move - but I didn't really know how to go about doing it. What if it pissed him off? Worse, what if he was just uninterested? I was nervous enough that if I'd been left alone too much longer I'd have talked myself out of it, but Spike opened the door before I had a chance to.
Even if I had talked myself out of it, seeing him there, dripping wet and wearing nothing but a towel would have changed my mind back in a hurry. Drops of water slid down his smooth white skin and darkened his hair. The towel barely clung low on his hips, showing those incredibly sexy muscles men have that curve down towards their groins. A few dark hairs rose above the towel's edge below his navel. He grinned almost sheepishly at me, clutching the towel to hold it up.
"Sorry, forgot about you," he said, "but I did run out to get you something to eat before forgetting."
'Th-thanks," I stuttered, his body was really distracting me. "Here, your clothes are clean." I thrust the little stack of clean jeans and t-shirts at him.
When he reached out to take them from me the towel around his hips fell to the floor. He stooped and picked it up, tossed it at me and said, "Since you seem to be washing everything in sight, do this too."
The wet towel hit me smack in the face and I lost my temper. I snatched it off and threw it right back at him. He dropped the clean clothes I had just handed him and batted it away. "Wash your own fucking towel, asshole," I said, icily. When I get mad I don't scream or yell, I get very cold, crisp and precise. "I may be your girlfriend's pet, I may be your fucktoy, I may even be just a walking sack of blood, but I Am Not Your Maid." I tried to shoulder my way past him and through the door, but he was having none of that. He shifted to stand in my way and as I moved to go around him on the other side, he moved again to block me.
"You're whatever I say you are, little fucktoy. You're only alive because I haven't said you should be dead yet."
"I'm alive because your crazy girlfriend decided she likes me."
"She'd forget you in half a minute if I went in there right now and told her I'd killed you. All I'd have to say is that you were an ant after all. And the only thing she'd regret is not being there when it happened. You think her rolling in the vamp dust was bad, I've seen her dance on entrails, swim in blood, play marbles with children's eyeballs. She'd take your scalp and wear it as a wig." He stalked towards me.
His cock was hardening as he recited this litany of gore. I was beginning to have serious second thoughts about continuing to ride this thrill ride. I backed away from him in horror, squeezing between the wall and the side of the washing machine.
"I don't believe you," I said. "Why would you go to such lengths to keep me here and keep me alive if you didn't think she'd be upset?" I really, really hoped it was his bluff I was calling. I'd always been more afraid of Dru in the past, but right now I didn't know.
With a wordless groan and an exasperated eye roll, he wrenched the washer out of the way and grabbed my hair, hauling me out from behind the machine.
"Ow! Let go!" I, and I'm ashamed to admit this, screeched. He picked me up, threw me over his shoulder, which was beginning to be a familiar position and, incidentally, gave me a terrific view of his hard white backside, and strode into the main room. He sat on the couch and swung me around so that I was stomach down across his lap. I was squirming wildly. Okay, in this position, I figured he wasn't going to kill me, but I so did not want to be spanked.
"Hold still," he hissed, both his hands were occupied with holding my wrists out to the side while trying to control my wriggling legs. Needless to say, I only struggled more and the more I struggled the larger I could feel his cock growing against me. He lifted his hand from my legs long enough to give me a hard pop on the ass. I squealed and managed to squirm halfway off his lap and slide to the floor between his legs. He might be strong but he just didn't have enough hands to keep me immobilized in that position.
"Hold still or I'm going to chain you to the wall and take the riding crop to you again!" This threat I believed. I quit moving and stayed still exactly where I was, kneeling between his legs, looking straight at the engorged evidence of his excitement.
He was still holding both my wrists in one of his hands and with the other, he took his cock, slapping it against my face, saying, "Little fucktoys shouldn't talk, their mouths are for other things."
Well, I thought, I had decided to make the first move, may as well start now. Yes, I realize that it can hardly be described as a first move when his cock was already in my face, but I could do it without being forced further, without putting up more token resistance just so I could feel guilt-free. And besides, maybe afterwards he wouldn't remember to spank me. It wasn't the pain of the spanking I feared, it was the humiliation, being punished like a child. He'd spanked me before but it had been part of our erotic horseplay while I was recovering from the whipping Dru had given me.
"Let go of my hands and I'll show what I can do with my mouth," I purred at him. He cocked his head, raised an eyebrow and took a second to ponder my change of attitude.
"I'll let go of one hand," he said warily and released my right hand, but kept a tight grip on the left. I stroked one of my long fingernails up the underside of his cock and watched it jump. I circled the place where the head joined the shaft with my nails, holding my hand over the head, but not touching it with my palm, just with the ends of my nails in a circle under the head. I dug them in slightly and was rewarded with a powerful jerk of his cock in my hand.
I repeated these movements with my tongue, running it up the underside, circling the head then closing my mouth over it, setting my teeth at just the place you would if you were going to bite the head clean off. It was a powerful feeling. I held his cock in my teeth and swirled my tongue around the head, dipping it into the slit there that was oozing its clear slippery fluid. I lightly scraped my teeth down his shaft as I sucked him as far into my mouth as I could. I wrapped my hand around the bit at the base that I couldn't get into my mouth. I'd never done this before and was terrified I was doing it wrong but I knew one thing - with him it was better to be too rough than too gentle.
I set a slow sucking pace as I moved my mouth up and down on him. Each time my mouth was at his tip, I would give it a little nip, just to feel it jump in my mouth. He let me set my own pace for a while, but eventually he grabbed my hair and started bobbing my head faster. Okay, okay, I get it, I thought, and followed the thought with action, moving my mouth with more alacrity over his throbbing cock.
I had no warning when he came and his cold semen went straight up my nose - from the inside! Snorting and choking, eyes watering, I reared my head back to find that he laughing at me. The prick.
"Points for effort, love," he said, smirking, "but the technique still needs some work." He stood up and drew me to my feet. I was wiping my nose and eyes, still trying to clear my sinuses. "And don't think I've forgotten about the spankin' I owe you."
Upside down over his shoulder yet again, he took me into the bedroom and dropped me on the bed. At this point I figured that giving in gracefully was by far the most dignified thing to do - but not without giving him a little shit first.
"So, do you want me to fight, or should I just lie still and take it?" I asked, a little breathlessly first from having his shoulder digging into my stomach then from bouncing on the bed when he dropped me. I rolled over onto my front and looked up at him over my shoulder, batting my eyelashes.
He started laughing. "Oh, don't you worry, you won't be lying still for long." He jumped onto the bed, straddling my legs. He grasped the waistband of my skirt like he was going to tear it off me.
"Hey, I like this outfit and it took me ages to find. Besides, nothing else is dry yet," I said indignantly.
"Well, then hurry and get out of it." He moved off my legs to let me sit up. I kicked off the boots, peeled my socks off then pulled the camisole top over my head. He lunged at me, burying his face between my breasts, knocking me onto my back. He held my hands over my head as he kissed and licked all over my breasts. He settled on the left one, circling towards the nipple with little nipping bites. When he finally reached the nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth, I sighed and closed my eyes. With every strong rhythmic suck, I could feel the stabs of pleasure zinging down to my cunt and, curiously enough, up to a spot in the roof of my mouth. I moaned and arched my back, feeling the muscles in my cunt clutch and release, clutch and release, longing for something to hold onto.
He let go of my hands to reach around and slide down the side zipper of the skirt. With my hands free I could dig them into his crisp white hair, still slightly damp at the roots, and press his face even more tightly against my breast. He responded by taking my nipple between his teeth and biting down, gently at first then with increasing pressure. The pain grew with the pressure but I found that if I could bear the first couple of seconds of it, it would turn into even more intense pleasure and I'd want him to bite down even harder.
He released my nipple long enough to sit up and slide my skirt and the lycra leggings off then leaned back to attack my other nipple with his mouth and tongue and teeth. He had me good and seething, I almost felt like I could come just from his mouth on my nipple. When he finally let go and raised his body off mine, I opened my legs, expecting him to fuck me, but instead he reached under my back with both arms and flipped me over onto my stomach.
"Spanking time!" he proclaimed gleefully and rained a flurry of loud slaps on my bare ass. It really hurt! I was surprised at how much it stung, more painful even, in some ways, than the riding crop had been. I was squealing and squirming, but also not trying to get away as the pain in my ass and the percussion of the blows made themselves felt not only on my ass but low in my belly and throughout my pelvic region. As I writhed I was rubbing my swollen clit against the bed, grinding my hips like I was humping something, desperate for any kind of pressure or friction. I was crying soundlessly from the pain and frustration.
He took pity on me and reached underneath me to rub my poor clit, while still continuing to spank me with the other hand. I could feel the spasms of my orgasm growing in exact time to the blows. He didn't stop until I was shuddering in his hands, my whole body shaking with the force of it. As I came down, he softly stroked my flaming skin and throbbing clit, gently moving his thumb in and out of me.
He let me catch my breath for a moment then flipped me over again onto my back. I cried out with unexpected pain when the sensitive skin of my ass came into contact with the covers that suddenly felt very rough, but then he took my legs and lifted them over his shoulders, also lifting my ass free of the bed. Moving over me and doubling my legs up to my chest, he drove his cock into me, fucking me hard and fast, the position allowing him to go deeper than ever before. He kissed me as he fucked me, devouring my mouth with his, our teeth crashing against each other's, tongues plunging. I held onto the bars of the headboard for dear life, anchoring myself in place otherwise his brutal fucking would have driven our heads through the wall. I tore my mouth away from his so I could breathe and he buried his face in my neck.
I felt his face change against my skin and his sharp teeth tearing into the fragile skin of my throat. The woozy bliss of it was enough to send me over the edge into an orgasm that was deep and throbbing, rippling through my body like a slow electric current.
Spike continued to pump into me for a few minutes, sucking the blood from the gash he'd torn in my throat until he came, his cool semen bathing my insides. He stopped drinking from me and carefully licked the wound. He stayed inside me, resting his head against my shoulder for several long minutes but I was beginning to get a cramp in my hip.
"Oh, ow, ow, Spike, I gotta put my legs down. Cramp. Ow." He rolled off me onto his back. If he had needed to breathe, I'm sure he would have been gasping. I sure was. I straightened my legs gratefully, flexing my feet and ankles to work the kinks out, but when I lowered them all the way this put my sore backside in contact with the bedcovers, which was not good. Stiffly, I rolled over and flopped onto my stomach. I lay still for a few minutes, catching my breath and enjoying the feeling of being 'rode hard and put up wet.' My stomach, though, decided it had been ignored long enough and growled loudly.
Spike looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. I giggled and said, "Sorry, can't help it. Didn't you say you'd gotten some food?"
Exhaling a melodramatically long-suffering sigh, he rolled out of bed and walked naked out of the room. He came back a few moments later wearing just a pair of unfastened jeans and carrying a large brown paper bag filled with Chinese takeaway. I propped myself up on my elbows, ripped open the wrapper on the chopsticks and dug in. It was room temperature but still delicious. I asked around a mouthful of spicy Kung Pao chicken, "God, this is so good. How'd you get it, I thought you were broke?"
"Not broke, broke. Just didn't have any cash on me at the time." He unwrapped his own set of chopsticks and opened another carton. We ate for a while in companionable silence, trading cartons every so often so we each had some of everything. If you've never eaten great Chinese food naked in bed right after having had the stuffing fucked out of you, let me tell you, there's no better feeling in the world. Even if your ass does sting like a son of a bitch.
Reminded, I said, "God, I won't be able to sit down for week."
"Should hope not. Lesson's no good if you don't remember it." I made a face at him and he raised his hand threateningly above my red rear end. I wiped the face off in a hurry.
"I meant to ask you the other night; why do you eat food? Don't vampires just drink blood?" I asked, setting aside the chopsticks and the carton I'd just emptied.
He gave me a look like I was an annoying five-year old who wouldn't stop asking stupid questions, but decided to humor me. "Like to, can, so I do. Sometimes get all gurgly and sloshy feeling inside if all I've had is blood. Like a little something in my tum to soak it up." I was kind of sorry I'd asked and glad I wasn't still eating. I decided a change of topic was needed.
"Tell me about you and Dru. How'd you get together?"
"Aren't half full of questions tonight, are you? Short answer is it's none of your bleedin' business."
"Oh, c'mon. Dru told me lots of stories while you were gone. One about the first slayer you killed, another about this Wild West town and something called a glaive, oh and Seville! Tell me what happened in Seville!"
He choked on his chopsticks full of rice. "She never told you about Seville! Did she?"
"She'd start to then get all coy and say you wouldn't want her to."
"Damn right I wouldn't."
"Come on, it can't be that bad. What happened - you get your ass kicked?"
"There was no kicking of my ass, it was just…Say, you wanted to hear about how Dru and me got together? Well, it was like this…." He cleared the empty cartons, used chopsticks and dirty paper napkins off the bed, stretched out on his back, lit up a cigarette and took a drag. I held out my hand and after a second he passed it to me, lighting up another one for himself.
I let him get away with the change of subject. This story was the one I was more interested in hearing anyway. I rolled over carefully on my side and listened to his tale of a brilliant but unknown poet accosted in an alley by a beautiful woman who changed his life, or rather, his unlife, as he called it, forever. At some point as I was listening to his story, I think he was single-handedly fighting off a mob in London, my eyes were drawn to his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat.
I considered his neck. Really, it was one of the most appealing things about him. It was tender and young, almost vulnerable looking in comparison to the rest of his tightly muscled form. It was a neck I could well imagine any vampire, hell, any woman would want to sink her teeth into. Without thinking about what I was doing, I leaned over and put my mouth around his Adam's apple in mid-bob.
He stopped talking and it slipped out of my mouth. He pulled his head away and looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Well, I probably had, but it was just so cute. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked, but even as he was asking, I was chasing the bobbing bump with my mouth, giggling insanely when it kept sliding away.
"Make it hold still," I complained, "I wanna feel it vibrate."
"Okay," he said, rolling up into a sitting position "Bedtime for you. Didn't know any better, I'd say you were stoned. Gotta check on Dru, anyway."
"No," I pouted. "Not until you let me feel it vibrate."
"Get under the covers and I'll think about it."
"No, you've got to promise."
"Oh all right, I promise, now get under the covers. Say, did you get into the liquor somehow today?"
I just shook my head sleepily as I slid between the sheets, careful to stay on my side and off my ass. I snagged my arm around his neck as he drew the covers up over me. "Hum," I said.
He hummed a steady note and I got a bead on his Adam's apple in the dim light. I lifted my head and covered it with my mouth. The buzz tickled my lips something fierce and I had another maniacal fit of the giggles. Did I ever mention that MSG does weird things to me?
"That's enough. Go to sleep now, you silly bint."
"'Kay," I said. "Turn off the lights, Daddy." As I closed my eyes and drifted off, I heard him swearing under his breath as he went to check on Dru.
It seemed like I had just closed my eyes when a violent jostling awoke me. Spike was leaning over me shaking me and saying, "Wake up, wake up you lazy cow."
"Wha-what?"
"Finally. Get up, I need your help with Dru."
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