Versailles Undone :: Chapter Five.

[fenderlove]

Title: Versailles Undone
Author: fenderlove
Pairing: Spike/OCs
Rating: R for pet!Spike, language, bondage, spanking, furniture!play, not worksafe.
Summary: After being sold by the Initiative, Spike is becoming accustomed to being the pet of an eccentric heiress. The small world he inhabits grows a little larger as he meets the eclectic members of her inner circle.



Versailles Undone
Chapter Five: the Garden Party.

A dream finally prompted Spike to make an actual attempt at escaping. While lost in sleep, Spike found himself spread-eagled and manacled on an table, able to view himself from above like an out-of-body experience. He was mostly numb, but he could feel latex-gloved hands pressing on his stomach in a clinical fashion. The hands manipulated his penis as something cold and metal was pressed against it, and a small plastic cup was sheathed over the tip. In the distance he could hear snippets of medical jargon. There was a pinch from calipers as his scrotum was examined while a cylindrical object was forced inside his anus. Spike wanted to lash out against his bounds, but he couldn't move, couldn't even draw a breath to scream. The object prodded over his prostate before an electric shock directly to the spongy lump of tissue caused him to immediately ejaculate. The vampire's semen was collected into the specimen cup. A lid was fastened on the cup, and the gloved hands wrote "17" on the side with a black wax marker.

Spike woke with a start afterwards, pushing himself into the corner of the alcove that housed his bed, mostly hidden by the heavy, damask privacy curtains. He scanned the room quickly for danger before convincing himself that it had been a nightmare. While held prisoner in the commando labs, there were things he couldn't remember, and now he realized just how much he didn't want to remember. Running his hands over his face, Spike knew he had to leave Charise's estate. Things weren't unbearable, but if he stayed the soldiers would always know where he was, could always try to take him back. Plus, being the toy of Charise and her friends had lost all sense of novelty that it never really had to begin with.

After his emotional display during their dinner, the humans had been very cautious about him during their numerous subsequent visits, talking to him as one would a small child, bringing him presents, petting and complimenting him. Charise had also allowed the vampire a little more time to himself, not forcing him to be as social as she had before during the past month. Spike grew frustrated that they completely misunderstood what had upset him. They seemed to be under the delusion that they had scared him with their odd sense of "fun" when really he'd been furious that they were not frightened of him.

Several days of prep-work followed before Spike was finally read to strike out on his own. He had hidden the most acceptable clothing- a pair of dark blue pajamas probably belonging to a valet that he'd purloined from the laundry and black, thick-soled work boots he'd stolen from the groundskeepers' closet- safely under his bed. In the pool area's mostly unused wet bar, Spike had managed to stockpile a few bottles of blood in a mini-fridge and hoped it would be enough to sustain him until he'd reached a town with a butcher shop. All he had to do was sneak downstairs, grab the remote to his shock collar from Charise's maid during her midnight trip to the kitchen, run to the pool to grab his blood, and leave through the door he'd discovered in the greenhouse. The door was nearly indistinguishable from the other glass panels in the enclosed garden, but Spike had found it was always left unlocked on Tuesday nights for the gardeners to enter Wednesday morning. Spike was beginning to feel like he was plotting an escape from a life-sized Cluedo gameboard.

Spike only had guesses as to what was beyond the grounds and the security gates that surrounded the property. Visitors had to be buzzed through the gate at the end of the oak alley, so Spike figured he would have some climbing to do, but he had no idea what other safety measures were outside the house itself. If he tripped a motion sensor or alarm, would floodlights go on, sirens wail, and hounds be released like in the movies?

Coming soon to a theatre near you- the ShawSpike Redemption, the vampire steeled himself on the night he'd chosen for his jailbreak, trying not to worry about all the things he could not know.

Spike found small comfort in that he had gotten out of far worse situations before in his unlife- captured by Nazis, chased by raging bulls, waking up in a tree just before dawn at Woodstock, getting his penis caught in the soap dispenser in the Studio 54 men's bathroom (which taught him the valuable lesson of why one must never accept lollipops from Andy Warhol), being paralyzed, just to name a few. Escaping MouseTrap Manor would be a cakewalk.

Checking his bedside clock, Spike got up and quickly dressed in the pajamas and stolen boots. He looked like a Lost Boy come back from Neverland as a grownup. The vampire had studied the staff's routines, and Framboise would always leave Charise's bedroom just after midnight through the wait stairwell in the breakfast nook to go down to the kitchen for a snack. He thought it was pretty foolish that she would do that since Charise entrusted the remote to his shock collar to her during the night, but it was fortuitous for him. Spike decided that the best plan would be to ambush her in the kitchen where the fewest amount of people would be woken if there was any noise. He couldn't hurt her without the chip firing off in his head, but perhaps he could shove her into the walk-in freezer after getting the remote away from her.

Down the secret stairwell that went from his apartments to the pool, Spike stealthily made his way through the rest of the mansion. The night was bright and clear, illuminating the gilded walls and crystal chandeliers in a moonlight glow. Spike took a running leap to clear the front foyer and kept a fast sprint past Charise's office and library. Ducking into the dining room, the vampire hung close to the walls as he found the paneled door that the waitstaff used to go between services to finally reach the kitchen.

The enormous kitchen, which bustled from dawn until dusk every day, was filled with the odors of a thousand lovingly prepared meals. It was dark, but that suited Spike just fine as his vampiric sight allowed him to see almost as clearly as he would under normal light. He perched himself on a countertop between a series of cabinets, crouching down where a dozy maid hoping to nosh on a few million calories of chocolate cake would be unlikely to notice him. It was a feeling he relished, the superiority of the hunter, though he did prefer a little more 'fight' under normal circumstances.

However, after an hour, Spike's legs began to cramp, and he moved from being in predatory-pounce-mode to sitting cross-legged on the counter. He sighed, helped himself to an orange, and waited for any signs of human activity. The house remained quiet and still, and Spike had to finally admit to himself that the maid wasn't coming downstairs.

Maybe she decided to go on a diet? he thought as he dropped the orange peel and seeds in the trash.

Perhaps it was his disappointment that caused him to not be as careful going back to his room as he was upon leaving it because the vampire was completely unawares when he smacked into Charise coming out of her office. She was in her night clothes and looked quite surprised to see Spike.

"What are you doing up at this hour?" she asked, holding her robe closed.

"I was-," the one thing Spike forgot to plan for was what he would say if he were caught skulking about. He stammered out, "I fell asleep in the library. I was just toddling off to bed."

Charise raised an eyebrow, "That's strange. I was just in the library, and I didn't see you."

Oh, hell. Is she trying to get me to slip up or was she actually in the library?

Spike nodded, trying to appear nonchalant, "That is strange."

"What are you wearing?"

Glancing down, Spike managed to say, "This? I found these mixed in with my laundry. They just looked so comfy; I thought I'd give them a try."

Charise didn't seem to be buying it, "I can't leave you alone for a second. I shouldn't be surprised. The pamphlets said you'd need constant supervision."

"Pamphlets?"

Taking one of his ears between her thumb and forefinger, Charise began to drag Spike back upstairs. No one had grabbed him like that in a century. It usually preceded Angelus beating him senseless and locking him in a cupboard.

Trying to pull away from her, Spike hissed, "Let go! You're going to rip my sodding ear off!"

Once they got to Spike's suite of rooms, Charise flicked on the lights and went to sit on the edge of his bed. She crooked a finger at him, and Spike reluctantly went to stand in front of her.

"Go to the cabinet and picked out what you're going to be punished with," she instructed.

At first Spike thought it was an odd request, but when he opened up the little doors to the toy cabinet, he suddenly understood what her game was. He'd been punished or pleasured with every paddle, strap, flogger, and crop available already, and Charise was making him weigh the pros and cons of each. In short order, he ruled out the floggers, leather straps, and riding crops as Charise always made him part his ass so she could reach every inch of skin with them. Spike also crossed off any of the paddles with holes drilled into them as they blistered his skin, which made it nearly impossible sit for any lengthy period of time. Finally, he picked up a heavy, circular wooden paddle and brought it to her.

"Good boy," Charise tapped the paddle against the palm of her hand, "You didn't pick out one of the flimsy ones; you picked a nice, solid one. That tells me that you know you need to be punished."

When she pointed to her lap, Spike knelt down and draped himself across her thighs. Placing the paddle on the bed, Charise rubbed both of her hands over the seat of his pajamas, squeezing him. Spike couldn't stop his body from responding to her touches and tone of voice. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he really enjoyed being spanked. His parents had never physically disciplined him as a child, but he'd lived in mortal terror of being caned at school, yet there was something alluring and mysterious about what it felt like. The worst William ever received as a boy was three strikes on his palm with a rattan cane for presenting a smudged board. He should have received a harsher punishment, or so he was told by his instructor, but he was far too frail-looking to take it.

It wasn't my bloody fault the stupid board was smudged. You make a left-handed person write with chalk on a cramped little board, and it's bound to happen naturally, Spike recounted to himself, It didn't help matters that I dropped the damned thing in a puddle 'cause that pock-faced George Thomas pushed me down.

Of course, Angelus had driven any mystery about being disciplined right out the window. Spike had only been a week turned when he was flipped over Angelus's knee for the first spanking he'd ever received. He'd been humiliated and furious, but also very turned on. That first spanking turned into his introduction into the world of sodomy, blowjobs, and what an amazing magic button a prostate could be. Spike felt his body shiver a little at the memories. Those were his best recollections of living with Angelus. After Darla returned to the nest, Spike had spent the next two decades learning that paddlings, slipperings, and spankings were fun, but floggings, whippings, croppings, birchings, and tawsings were not. Not three days would pass without the fledgling somehow bare-ass up over someone's lap, a sofa arm, or carriage seat while someone was beating his perfect backside.

Charise's hand landed precisely on the center of Spike's bottom and then rubbed him through his pajamas in a slow circle. It didn't hurt; rarely anything she did to him actually hurt. Spike stared down at his hands bracing against the cold floor, and he once again wondered how he ever let himself get into this mess as he received a few more slaps. Charise tempered out each spank for maximum effect; some were short and sharp, meant to inflict pain, while others were heavier, meant to bruise and tenderize. When she tired of that, she pushed his pajama bottoms down to his knees, relishing in the slow exposure of his bare skin.

As she resumed and focused each slap on the underside of his ass, Spike felt a dull ache spread throughout his steadily warming skin. It was very faint at first, but grew into a prickly, tingling sensation as Charise began using both hands at the same time, gripping him after each smack, her fingernails slightly digging into the crease where each buttock met thigh, making sure that he'd be able feel his punishment after each step he took. Spike moaned softly, his feet arching up off the floor as he raised his hips a little.

She's learning, the vampire mused as Charise began to break through his pain threshold.

As Spike began shifting around on her lap, he was able to get a lot of pleasurable friction as he rubbed his hardened cock against the softness of Charise's nightgown. The spanking stopped momentarily as Charise reached beneath his body and gripped his penis tightly.

"No, this isn't for play," she scolded as she maneuvered herself and Spike so that his penis was trapped between her thighs.

Spike made a dissatisfied noise as the smacking continued while the tip of his cock was being squeezed and smothered between layers of cotton and pillowy flesh. He wriggled more, cursing under his breath when he couldn't raise his hips without causing pain to his manhood.

Charise shoved the circular paddle in front of his face, "Kiss it."

The vampire pondered all the various replies he could give to a request like that. He worried that most of them might end with him getting shocked if he got his "owner" mad enough. Deciding that he might get a decent orgasm if he played along, Spike pressed his lips firmly against the lacquered wood, trying to at least be a little seductive about it.

However, Charise was not in the mood to be seduced as she brought the paddle down on the very center of his ass several times in rapid succession. The pain began to build up, and he could no longer remain composed as each crack of the paddle hit its mark. His buttocks clenched each time Charise's lifted the board up, and she would order him to relax before continuing. Just when Spike was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making noise, Charise tossed the paddle onto the bed and ran her hands over his warmed skin.

"You're so pretty like this, all cherry-red and hot," she said softly, her voice sweet and mellow, as she teased the sensitive underside of his buttocks. "I don't think I've ever brought out the blush in your skin this much before."

Spike felt his backside being parted by her slender hands. Charise blew cool air over his exposed crevice and thumped his tight ring with her index finger, her well-manicured nail creating quite a sting. His cock throbbed between her legs, desperately needing release. Charise was aroused, and Spike was losing his grip on his patience the more evident it became.

"Do you want to do it or what?" he finally asked with some annoyance in his tone.

Charise immediately stopped touching him and sounded genuinely confused, "What?"

Spike looked over his shoulder, "Isn't that what you bought me for? Your own personal toy? Let's just have sex and get it over with."

"I..." Charise didn't know how to respond, "I don't want to have sex with you."

Laughing loudly at that, he replied, "The hell you don't."

She shoved him roughly off her lap and snapped, "Stop laughing."

Getting on his knees in front of her, Spike placed his hands on her thighs, "I can understand that you're nervous. Worried I might hurt you? I can go slow for your first time."

Charise quickly placed her bare foot on his stomach and pushed him away, "It's not... I mean, I'm not..."

One thing that Spike had noticed more evidently once Charise was in the company of her friends was that she was a virgin. He wasn't sure if he hadn't recognized it sooner because his own scent was causing interference, but her wanton friends made it perfectly clear. While they bragged about their conquests, Charise only talked about Spike. She had no tales of previous boyfriends and, while her friends played with one another, she only liked to watch.

"That's why you tried to make sure I was a virgin when you picked me out at the pound, right?" Spike smirked. "You're a virgin, so you wanted me to be one too."

"Well, the guard obviously lied about that," Charise muttered as she stood up, her face flushed.

Spike shrugged, "Nah, he was telling the truth. I, unfortunately, reek of virgin even though I've been having sex for over a century."

Charise cinched her robe closed tightly and started to leave his bedroom.

He called after her as he got to his feet, pulling up his pajamas bottoms as he did, "Where are you going?"

"To bed," she said angrily as she stopped at the doorway.

It was Spike's turn to be confused, "Wait, you don't want to fool around?"

Charise huffed angrily and left Spike standing in the center of his opulent room. The vampire was perplexed as to what had just transpired. Was he losing his touch? He knew he wasn't exactly Casanova, but perhaps he'd come on too strong. Then again, Spike didn't think it was possible to be too forceful about sex with a woman who had bought him, dressed him like a doll, and shoved things up his ass on a regular basis.

To his surprise, Charise returned to his bedroom with an armload of books a few minutes later. Touching them seemed to cause a mixed expression of regret and disgust to mar her usually pleasant face.

"You want to know why I brought you here? Fine," she thrusts the stack of books into Spike's hands and quickly made a retreat back to her room before he could react.

Spike sat down gingerly on his bed and starred at the titles of the books- Tiny Heart, Enormous Passions, Aria in the Key of Love, and Gretel's Lust, all written by Marie d'Angoulême. As he read over the book jackets and noting the numbers on their spines, Spike realized that these were the Simply Charming novels that were missing from the collection in the library. Thumbing through some of the pages, Spike could see why they were left out. They were dreadful, even by schlocky romance novel standards. The sex scenes were extremely stale and clunky, and the characters were cookie-cutter Harlequin fodder. The situations were unique, but the writing was stilted and awkward.

There's more substance in a Baby-Sitters Club book than these, Spike thought as he continued to read.

As the sun was coming up, Spike had just gotten to a scene in which Gretel was schtumping a gingerbread Frankensteinian creature when a realization dawned on him. He recalled some of the odd out-of-place rooms he'd discovered in the mansion- the one with the dollhouses, the theatre, and the faux-candy room. They corresponded to the plots of each of the books now scattered on his bed. Had Charise used the rooms as inspiration and written under a pseudonym? Spike was even more puzzled as to why she hadn't taken him up on his offer of sex if the reason she had purchased him was as a walking-talking muse for cheesy romance novels.

Somehow Spike found himself outside of Charise's bedroom, knocking quietly. Poire and Citron were sitting across the hall, half-asleep, when Charise opened the door.

"What?" she glared at him.

"I liked your books," he offered.

"Liar," Charise snorted, but moved aside to allow Spike to come inside as she shut the door, "No one likes my books. My friends even think that they're shit."

Spike shrugged, "Well, do your friends know that you wrote them?"

"Of course not! No one knows that I wrote them. As far as anyone knows, Marie d'Angoulême is just another author of terrible fiction."

"They're not that bad."

Charise threw herself on her bed, arms out, "Please, they're so awful that even Mystery Science Theatre couldn't make them entertaining."

Spike eased a knee down on the comforter and began to move closer to her prone form currently in a damsel-esque pose, "As someone who had dreams of a literary career that were slowly crushed by those around me, I sympathize."

"Hey," she sat up quickly, "Just keep your distance there, Not-so-Bashful."

Spike halted and groused, "You know, for being so kinky, you're a right prude all of a sudden."

Charise placed a pillow between herself and the vampire, "I'm not a whore."

"So that makes your friends whores?"

"No, they're..." she thought about the right words for a moment, "They're sexually exuberant."

Spike grinned and raised an eyebrow, "So why can't you be sexually exuberant too?"

"Because."

"Oh, now you're just playing games."

Charise's shoulders slumped somewhat, "I like to watch, all right? Everything else seems so messy."

"Says the girl who has had my arse open for business since I got here," Spike rolled his eyes.

The young woman was quiet for a few minutes before asking, "Does it make you uncomfortable? Are you... Are you unhappy here?"

An unspoken "with me?" hung in the air. Spike couldn't work out why he was being so nice or why he was worried about Charise's feelings. He could have thrown a million and one barbs at her, taunted her about her writing just as he had been tormented from the time of his adolescence to the night of his death, but he could not be motivated to do it. Perhaps it was some twisted camaraderie of failed literaries, or maybe Spike was just that pent-up.

"Let's just say that I'm not not-happy," Spike managed to reply.

It was true, at least. Spike knew his situation could have been far worse, but he wasn't going to be content to stay forever. Wasn't he in the middle of a daring escape attempt just a few hours before?

Charise relaxed, rubbing her hand over the side of the bed Spike occupied when he slept in her room. Taking the hint, Spike laid down, letting Charise draw the bedclothes over him. Her arm wrapped around his middle as it always did, but instead of keeping his back to her while they were in bed, Spike turned towards her.

"I want you to stay," Charise spoke quietly, placing a kiss to his covered shoulder.

Spike wanted to remind her that he did not have much say in the matter, but he replied with a little smirk, "As long as you don't dress me in lederhosen while a monster biscuit rapes me, I think I'll stick around."

"You may not know it, but you've been a great help with my latest book. It's my best work yet," she pressed herself tighter to him. "I just know that the critics won't pan me this time."

"So my carnal exploits with sex toys and food will be co-opted for publication?"

"No one will know it's you, not that anyone would believe that I've got a pet vampire," she smiled. "Now, go to sleep. We've got a long day tomorrow."

Spike held back a sigh, "Dare I ask what you've got in store for me?"

"You'll like it. I promise."


*****

Charise was wrong about Spike liking her plans. Well, she wasn't totally wrong. He did not hate what she had done to him, but if anyone had asked, he would have voiced a strong disliking for Charise's taste in surprises. Plus, he had an itch on his nose that he could not scratch, and it was driving him crazy.

Spike felt like a pretzel, a very over-decorated pretzel, as he found himself the centerpiece of Charise's garden party table. He was on his knees, back bowed as the side of his face and his shoulders were pressed down to the table. Spike's arms were pulled between his legs, his wrists bound to his ankles. His cock and balls were tightly constricted by a pink ribbon, a heavy silver clip pinning his foreskin closed painfully over his erection. To make his position worse, every time Spike moved, even a sliver, he could hear the humiliating rustling of Charise's "surprise," which was more for her friends' amusement and less for the vampire's pleasure. A metal speculum held Spike's rectum open, allowing him to be stuffed with a large bouquet of colourful, de-thorned roses. He had been turned into a demonic flower vase.

"I must say that even though he's less eatable than your last centerpiece, he's none-the-less scrumptious, darling," Hart laughed as he held a strawberry up to Spike's mouth.

Spike bit into the berry, careful not to nip Hart's fingers as he sucked up the juices that were left behind. He didn't know why he was giving himself over to Charise's whims, but he found the will to fight her fading. Embarrassed as he was to have an ass full of flowers outside in the middle of the day in Charise's greenhouse, Spike let himself be petted and fed little bits of cream and fruit, enjoying the attention.

Charise and her friends, dressed in their Louis XIV best, sat around the table in gelato-hued peacock-backed wicker chairs, eating moulded jellies and ices, discussing this and that, always returning their conversation to Spike. Every once and a while, someone would claim to see a bee or some other insect and give the vampire's backside a slap, which would cause him to jerk away, sending a shower of multi-coloured petals down from the bouquet.

"What's this about you going to New York?" Yolande asked as the discussion turned to some e-mails that had been sent.

Charise sipped from her crystal cup of raspberry lemonade and replied, "I've got to be present at some board meetings to discuss plans for next year's crop of books."

"Oh, that sounds just terrible, Charie. Simply terrible. I mean, what is a bored meeting if not boring?" Hart then laughed at his own uproarious wit.

Harriet reached out to let Spike lick the whipped cream from a small cake, "Can't you just teleconference like you usually do? Why must you go so far away?"

"I've got to convince them not to yank the contracts of a few writers, but it won't take very long. I'll be gone about a week if there are no hang-ups," Charise replied, rubbing her hand against Spike's thigh.

"Still crusading for that d'Angoulême woman?" Hart pointed his spoon at Charise.

"And some others," Charise responded. "I believe that all of Simply Charming's current writers have potential."

"I agree," Hart held out his arms, "The potential to weave more tales of giantesses who get itty bitty mortal men to pleasure them by crawling into their vajayjays!"

Yolande giggled, "I know that this writer is another friend of yours, Charie, but you have to admit that that book was particularly bad."

Spike could sense Charise's demeanor change, her gestures and mannerisms growing stiffer. She stammered to find a reply, but luckily enough for her a distraction arrived when the silver clip attached to Spike's penis finally unlatched itself and was sent ricochetting across the table before crashing into a teacup. Spike sighed in relief once his foreskin was able to draw back, easing some of his discomfort.

Charise cupped Spike's scrotum in her gloved hand, "Do you want me to untie the ribbon?"

"If you do, I'll mess up your pretty table. Can't have that," Spike gritted his teeth as she rolled his balls against her palm.

"It's an easy problem to solve," Charise smiled and held one of the empty teacups over the tip of Spike's penis.

Once the ribbon was released, Spike came hard against the crystal, a little flurry of rose petals spilling down his back as his body jerked.

"Such a passionate boy," Harriet ruffled his peroxided hair until it was sticking up in unruly curls.

Hart took the teacup of Spike's emissions from Charise, "Can't let a sweet treat like this go to waste."

Setting the teacup down, Hart poured in some lemonade, mixing it with the vampire's seed with his finger. He pushed the cup towards Spike's mouth, and the blonde instantly began to lap it up, earning him praise and petting. While he was swallowing down his own bodily fluids, Charise stood up and began removing the roses and the speculum from his person. When she was done, she leaned down to kiss his cheek.

"You've been so good today, Bashful," Charise smiled as she unlocked the restraints around his ankles and wrists.

After being helped down from the table, Spike stretched his limbs out, rolling his neck and popping his back.

"You're going to have to let me paint him sometime," Yolande said to Charise as she watched the vampire's exercises with a keen eye.

"Get your own," Charise linked her arm with Spike's and then returned to her seat, letting him sit on her lap.

"Tell me, Charie," Hart began with a wicked smile, "who's going to look after your boy while you're away? Just so you know, my door is always open."

Harriet sighed at her brother's antics, "Among other things."

"Everything's already taken care of," Charise assured, stroking her fingers lovingly down Spike's neck.

"You're not leaving me with a vet, are you?" Spike frowned though he leaned into her touches.

Charise laughed, "You're so silly. Pêche and Pomme are perfectly capable of tending to you while I'm gone. Plus, all the other members of the staff will be here too. You'll be fine."

Leaning his head back on Charise's shoulder, Spike let the sun warm his face and felt a little knot of nervousness build in the pit of his stomach at the thought of her not being in the house. She'd gone out for a few hours at the most before, but never longer than that. All desire to escape aside, Spike found himself sort of liking Charise. She was strange, her friends were stranger, but none of them were trying to kill him, so he figured it evened out.

To be continued...




Find all chapters for this story thus far here.

x-posted on nekid_spike and darker_spike.