Versailles Undone :: Chapter Eight.

[fenderlove]

I know I haven't posted for a while, but I'm trying to get back in the swing of things. I hope those who were reading this series continue to enjoy it! :D

Title: Versailles Undone
Author: fenderlove
Pairing: Spike/OCs
Rating: NC-17/NOT WORKSAFE (especially not this chapter) for language, pet!Spike, rape, BDSM, torture, medical experimentation, disfigurement, castration, electric shocks, and other assorted wickedness.
Summary: With his "owner" out of town, Spike is at the mercy of another. Controlled by collar and by chip, how will the vampire cope with yet another drastic change in his treatment?



Versailles Undone
Chapter Eight: Dolmancé's Chamber, Part Deux.

The third morning spent in Dolmancé's bedroom had gotten off to a bad start, though Spike wasn't sure if any morning while being held captive by a sadistic CFO with control issues could be considered "good." Spike had woken up inside the crate, hogtied and groggy. He had the feeling that Dolmancé had been drugging him to get him to sleep for a few hours so that Dolmancé too could rest as well as change Spike's position with the various bindings. He had been able to gage the time from when Dolmancé chose to take his meals. After two full days into being held captive by yet another master, the vampire felt as though he had never left the Initiative, and he was not looking forward to Day Three.

Human creativity was limitless when it came to cruelty, but eventually, for a vampire, the pain was likely to become monotonous. The tortures Dolmancé cooked up were agonizing, but they were mundane, like a cheap BDSM porno. In fact, as far as Spike was concerned, the old man lacked a lot of panache when it came to bondage. Intricate rope-typing with lust-maddening knots wedged up in the worst possible places were not in Dolmancé's scope; he was limited to store-bought leather harnesses and basic humiliation tactics, all the things a man drowning in his machismo secretly dreads being done to him but dreams of doing to others. Thinking of his situation in those terms had allowed Spike to regain a small portion of his dignity as he tried to have a stiff upper lip about being used.

Dolmancé was also not in the best physical condition. Though he enjoyed keeping Spike blindfolded, Spike had managed to catch glimpses of the old man's body both before and after the "rounds," as he had taken to counting them. Dolmancé had a physique that seemed to imply that he had once been in peak condition, but age and inactivity had softened him. During the repeated assaults, Dolmancé had a tendency to run quite hot at first but tired quickly. He needed Framboise's assistance after the first day more and more, allowing her to take over the whips and floggers while he took more of his blue pills and had a wank. Thankfully, Framboise lacked the skill and strength of Dolmancé and did little more than irritate wounds that were already there rather than creating new ones.

Despite his resolve, Spike was in pain. His muscles were aching from being constantly bound, and he had bruises on top of broken skin on top of more bruises. The fear of being staked loomed heavily in Spike's mind. Spike was being fed drop by precious drop of blood, and, while it sustained him, it would not be enough to heal his wounds by the time Charise returned in a few days' time, leading the vampire to wonder if Dolmancé did not intend to keep him around long enough for her to see his condition. While worries provided some distraction, Spike's jaw was the most excruciating in his catalogue of injuries by far. A bevy of medieval-looking gags had kept Spike from uttering anything besides gurgling noises and choking shouts. As he awoke inside his box on what he estimated was the third day, Spike was surprised to find a smaller, less obtrusive ball gag pressed between his teeth. In the slight haze of a drug-induced stupor, Spike ran his tongue over the back of the latex ball, feeling a small hole at its center, allowing him to take short breaths through his mouth. Hearing the latches being undone above him, Spike's stomach clenched as he waited. The position he had been left in, on his stomach with his still-mitted wrists bound to his ankles, left the amount of possibilities of what Dolmancé intended limited. The low light of the fire in the dim room appeared as bright as the sunlight in Charise's greenhouse when the crate's sides were lowered, and Spike rapidly blinked to adjust his sensitive eyesight.

No blindfold for now, Spike thought to himself. The bastard must have something he wants me to see.

Dolmancé, naked and already erect, locked both of his arms through the bough created by Spike's restrained arms and legs. Though it was an obvious effort, Dolmancé hoisted the vampire onto the bed. Spike grunted as he landed awkwardly on his side, though the softness of a mattress was more welcomed then being tossed on the floor or back into his box.

Dolmancé grasped Spike's calves and prevented him from squirming away as the old man climbed onto the bed, "The Sow's friends came calling earlier, that girl and her degenerate brother... They wanted to visit you."

Spike's head whipped towards Dolmancé. The vampire knew that the momentary flicker of hope that passed over his features did not go unnoticed by Dolmancé.

"Oh, don't look so thrilled," Dolmancé slapped Spike's thigh in irritation. "I sent them away."

A tiny bubble of hope remained as Spike began to imagine that Hart and Harriet might sense something was wrong when Dolmancé turned them away and would return. Possibly with guns. Lots and lots of guns. However, a giant thumbtack of doubt threatened to pop the fragile bubble as Spike began to think of the aloof and flighty nature of Charise's friends. They likely would get distracted by fancy dresses, chocolate eclairs, and burlesque clubs and would simply forget about him until Charise came home from her trip. Spike suddenly felt more like a plaything than ever. The only reason they had wanted to see him in the first place was likely to use him, just like Dolmancé.

Dolmancé removed the spreader bar from Spike's knees and shoved the vampire's legs apart with a firm grip, pushing forward to situate himself in the tangle of Spike's bound limbs. With Spike's face and chest pressed harshly into the mattress and the rest of his body elevated as the human kept trying to find the right angle in the vampire's current position, Dolmancé, ignoring the groans and gasps behind Spike's gag, forced himself inside the unwilling body he had total control over. Among the usual assorted noises of pain, Spike heard something higher-pitched and strangled, like an infant's cry. Spike glared down the bridge of his nose and was horrified to realize the noise was coming from his mouth.

"Do you hear that?" Dolmancé asked smugly. "The gag's my own design. The tubing makes you sound more appropriate to your position."

With his remark, Dolmancé lifted up on Spike's legs, almost completely bending the vampire's body over itself backwards. Spike felt sparks of pain from his barely mended spine exploded in all of his nerves at once. He could not help the yelps and whimperings that escaped his throat and exited the gag as nothing more than a distorted imitation of a baby's mewling. The sounds seemed to send Dolmancé into a new fervor, pistoling his member deeper into Spike's passage, making all the buckles and metal fasteners clink together in a violent orchestra in time with the old man's lustful grunting and the vampire's moans of pain. Spike tried to thrash in vain, shuddering as Dolmancé spilled a torrent of hot semen into his bowels. With quick movements, Dolmancé shoved a thick plug into Spike's battered hole, stretching the wrinkled flesh further. Dolmancé got up from the bed and unlatched the cuffs holding Spike's ankles from the cuffs around his mitt-covered hands. Spike's legs thumped against the bed pathetically as the vampire laid still, his face still half-hidden in the bedding.

"Stand up," Dolmancé ordered.

When Spike did not readily comply, Dolmancé grabbed the remote control to the vampire's shock collar and made motions to press the inappropriately cute, pink button at its center. Spike scrambled to get to the edge of the bed before he could be shocked, and Dolmancé smirked, pleased with himself. The vampire swung his legs, still cuffed at the ankles with very little space between them, to plant his bare feet flat on the floor and then carefully raised the rest of his body. Spike felt just how weak his body had become from lack of food and mistreatment. He swayed a little but righted himself, knowing that Dolmancé was unlikely to help him up if he were to fall. Spike's body was slightly bowed forward, his arms remaining heavily shackled behind his back, with the cage around his genitals at the fore and trying to keep the plug in place at the aft.

Dolmancé walked in a half-circle, appraising Spike, and ignored the hate burning in the vampire's clear, blue eyes. Deciding he was satisfied, Dolmancé issued another command, "Walk to that wall."

Dolmancé pointed towards the wall with the fireplace opposite to the bed. Spike slid one foot forward on the marble as much as the cuffs would allow and then followed it with the other. He could only move an inch or two at a time, making it an excruciating distance to traverse for such a short amount of space. Spike almost tripped several times, having to stop momentarily, which only reenforced the humiliating picture he must have presented with salvia running freely out from the tubing inside his gag, soaking his neck and chest, and with the large plug wedged between his bottom cheeks. Though he had not been ordered to keep it in place, Spike knew better than to let the plug drop from his person. Years of being under the tutelage of Angelus had taught him that. Finally, after an eternity of shuffling, Spike stood at the dark wood paneled wall. Dolmancé, who had been walking slowing behind Spike and chuckling softly to himself at the vampire's display, went to the wall and pushed sharply at the moulding, opening a secret door.

Spike stood looking into a parlor, one that was greatly contrasted to anything of Charise's creating. Black leather, solid colours, and taxidermied animals provided the theme of the decor along with a dose of patriotism from American flags carefully folded into triangles and encased in plastic, commendations from the United States military, and shadow-boxed medals on the walls. Whereas Charise's decorating was straight out of Versailles, Dolmancé's parlor appeared to be the unholy lovechild of Cecil Rhodes and General Patton. There was a tall, well-built man sitting in the parlor already, a whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other. He was completely bald with a dark mustache and was wearing a green, military dress uniform, the area above the left pocket of his suit coat covered with ribbon bars.

"About time, Major," the bald man said brusquely though there was a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he took a drag from his cigar.

Dolmancé grabbed Spike by one bicep and shoved him into the room, "I can assure you that this whore doesn't make things easy for you, Colonel."

Spike tried to keep his eyes from darting around the room as he sensed another presence, a vampire, but could not immediately see where that creature was.

The Colonel stood, setting his cigar in a nearby ashtray, "Well, let's take a look here." The Colonel smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling and his lips parting to reveal a row of small, perfectly square teeth, "I remember you... Seventeen, correct?"

Spike could not have answered him if he had wanted to. His stomach began to turn in knots, believing that Dolmancé might be turning him back over to the Initiative soldiers who had crippled him.

"It was a tough decision about what to do with this little beauty," the Colonel continued, placing his free hand on Spike's spit-wetted chin and gripping tightly, turning the vampire's face this way and that. "It's one of the oldest vampires we've ever gotten a hold of."

Dolmancé made a disgusted expression when the Colonel used the term "beauty" in reference to Spike's appearance but commented, "How is the Initiative project coming along?"

The Colonel returned to his seat, sipping leisurely at his whiskey, "Not as well as we had hoped, Eus."

"Not as well as the Department of Defense hoped, you mean," Dolmancé replied as he took to the chair next to the Colonel's and forced Spike to kneel on the floor.

From the position on the floor, Spike could see the naked feet and lower legs of a shivering, kneeling figure behind the Colonel's chair. By scent, Spike knew this was the vampire he had sensed upon entering the room; also, by the same olfactory sensitivity Spike had been blessed with, he knew that the kindred creature was male.

"The death of Dr. Walsh and the sudden disappearance of Dr. Angleman are definite set-backs," the Colonel responded. "I've taken over things for the program evaluation and until Colonel McNamara arrives from Virginia."

"You said in your letter that the costs were becoming more than Washington wanted to handle," Dolmancé said, pouring himself a whiskey.

The Colonel let out a laugh, "Only us old warhawks believe in what's being done. At least we have Operation Domestic to get some auxiliary funding for the project."

Spike tilted his head slightly as he listened. The Colonel leaned forward and ruffled Spike's hair as if he was nothing more than a dog, "That's why we had to let this one go. It's very strong, but willful. It'd cost more to break it in than what that idiot girl paid to buy it."

"I don't know. It seems a full lobotomy might fix that problem, George," Dolmancé spoke.

The Colonel mulled that over for a moment, "That would temporarily be a solution. Even the brains of these creatures heal back upon being damaged, given time and blood! It's quite fascinating to watch, but I digress. We do need the beasts to be able to think and act accordingly. It defeats the purpose if every vampire had be controlled remotely by a soldier."

"It would, however, save many human lives," Dolmancé replied.

"Too right. Many a man has died when it would have been better for an animal to take his place," the Colonel nodded, and then his eyes fixed on Spike, "But no battles for this pretty little thing. Look at that perfect ass. It just made sense for it to be in Domestic over Ajax or Xeno."

Dolmancé asked "Project Xeno is the medical division?"

The Colonel amused himself, fondling one of Spike's nipples, "Yes, we've made great strides in finding ways to use the regenerative skin from vampires on injured soldiers. There's been less rejection and less after-transplant infections."

"If you're going to pay attention to it, at least make sure that I have a party favor as well," Dolmancé reprimanded.

"Of course," the Colonel said jovially, grabbing a small chain that was hooked over the arm of the leather chair and dragging out the pitiful figure from his hiding place.

Spike's eyes grew wide as he took in the sight of the vampire, unchained save for a collar and leash, crawling on all fours. His face was horribly disfigured. His eyes had been removed, and the brow appeared sunken in; the skin of the forehead was awkwardly stretched down to cover the hollowed area from the brow down to the top of the cheeks. His genitals had also been completely removed, the skin of its crotch as smooth as a Ken doll save for three deep scars creating a triangle in the pelvic cradle. The vampire let out a gargled moan through a swollen and discoloured jaw.

Upon seeing Spike's reaction, the Colonel felt the need to explain, "Vampires who can't be sold as pets in Operation Domestic get recruited into Project Ajax as soldiers, and those who can't make it there, go into Xeno as medical experiments, but there are certain specimens that we have to find special uses for."

As the Colonel yanked on the vampire's leash, Spike recognized him. It was Daniels, one of the soldiers who had assaulted him in the Initiative showers.

The Colonel continued, "Sometimes soldiers go off the rails, and they know too much to be discharged from the military, but we can always utilize a good man."

"I see you've brought one of the completely neutered models," Dolmancé commented, rubbing his crotch without a hint of discretion.

"Vampiric ridges, eyes, and teeth have all been surgically removed. Penis and testicles removed to prevent it from being too rambunctious. Even if it thought about doing any harm, there's always the behavior modification chip in its brain. I call this one 'Trigger.' What does the girl call that one?" the Colonel pointed to Spike.

"'Bashful' seems to be her favourite pet name for it," Dolmancé answered dismissively.

Spike felt his lower abdomen quake as he stared at Daniels, rendered completely helpless. He didn't want to look at the other vampire, didn't want to see his possible future if he was sent back to the Initiative, didn't want to imagine that Daniels, for all the damage done to him, might sense him there and remember what happened in the shower.

"'Bashful,' hm?" the Colonel thought over the name, rolling it over his tongue like the fine liquor he was drinking. "Let's see how bashful he is." He ordered Spike to turn around and present himself.

Spike did as he was told, turning so that his ass was on display for the room, spreading out his knees as wide as possible with his ankles still cuffed. Dolmancé's interest was peaked and immediately understood the cause of this sudden obedience.

"Looks like the bitch got the fear of God put in to it," Dolmancé practically cackled. He leaned down from his chair and gripped Spike's hair tightly, "Now you know what can be done to you, don't you?"

The Colonel removed his coat and undid his tie, "I like seeing a vampire that knows what's good for it." After undressing completely, the Colonel knelt behind Spike and tapped the tip of his erect cock against the end of the plug snug inside the vampire's tight asshole. He carefully removed the large plug, watching as a dribble of Dolmancé's seed leaked out of the pink flesh, "That's just what I like- a nice, pre-fucked hole."

Dolmancé was also getting to work with Daniels, "Trigger, heel."

Daniels knelt up and opened his mouth as much as he could with the swelling. Dolmancé roughly shoved his cock into the young vampire's toothless mouth. Spike felt like vomiting as he heard the sickening noises Daniels as he struggled with the pain of having his injured mouth further abused and with breathing through his nose, not yet used to no longer needing oxygen. Spike put his forehead to the floor, wishing to disappear from the scene before him. Spike was quickly snapped back into reality as the Colonel began pushing his thick cockhead into his rectum. Spike made a short cry, but through the gag it came out as nothing more than a pitiful "wah" sound.

"The hell?" the Colonel, spying the gag as the source of the strange sound, undid the fastenings around Spike's head, letting the ball gag fall to the marble floor. "That's better. If I wanted to fuck a baby, there's plenty of opportunity in the demon tanks."

The Colonel was far stronger and more virile than Dolmancé, snapping his hips back and forth furiously, grunting at Spike's tightness despite having received Dolmancé's member less than a half-hour before, "God, that's good." He kissed Spike's neck in his passion, "Such a good little slut."

Suddenly able to speak for the first time in days, Spike wanted to shout or to bite, but the will had gone out of him. Spike lost himself in a swirl of self-pity, despairing at the unfairness of the turn his unlife had taken. It felt as though the whole world was conspiring to tell him that this truly was his place, at the mercy of others who would use him for pleasure. Spike opened his mouth, trying to force out something snarky in rebuttal to the Colonel's remarks, but he could not. Spike began to openly cry, covering up his gasps and sobs by pressing his lips to the cool marble tiles.

"Eus, you told me that this one was unattractive, but look how pretty," the Colonel smirked as he jerked Spike's head back by taking hold of the pearl-studded shock collar.

Dolmancé looked nonplussed to see the vampire's ruddy face, tears spilling down his finely sculpted cheeks, chin still wet from spittle, nose running slightly. The old man responded, "You can keep that snotty-faced thing."

The Colonel laughed softly as he continued to abuse Spike's backside, slapping the vampire's flanks, and held his body close to his own, licking the tears and mucus from the vampire's face. Content with his own prize, Dolmancé grabbed hold of Daniels's hips and then mounted the disfigured vampire without any preparation. Daniels made a keening noise, but he kept his head down.

"Soldiers really are more easily broken than people would think," the Colonel chortled as he bit and sucked on Spike's earlobe.

Dolmancé reached between Daniels's legs and raggedly scratched his nails over the lump of flesh where the former soldier's privates used to reside. Daniels's body bucked at the touch, demonstrating he still had some sensation in the nerves there.

"It's these young boys nowadays. They're a bit too used to taking orders," Dolmancé responded as he appeared evermore pleased with the vampire's frantic movements beneath him.

For a few moments, there was silence except for the slapping of human flesh against the vampires' prone bodies. Then, the two old comrades began to reminisce about their time in Vietnam and what they had done to the vampires they had discovered in an isolated village. To the lone female vampire, they had dismembered her, leaving nothing but her head attached to her torso; the soldiers had enjoyed watching her roll in the dirt, trying to push herself into a semi-seated position using her teeth and the bloody stubs at her shoulder and hip joints in order to get to a dish of blood they had placed on a short-legged stool. The three male vampires had basically been used as unliving urinals, forced to imbibe human excrement for the amusement of the American soldiers. Spike felt heat rise into his face as he sensed Dolmancé taking particular pleasure in reliving that memory.

"The long-haired one was quite a spitfire," the Colonel recalled as he pressed both his thumbs on either side of his cock as it was buried to the hilt in Spike's ass. Forcing the digits into the vampire's pucker, the Colonel began to pull the flesh open wider, eliciting a howl of pain from Spike as his inner tissues began to tear.

"I remember," Dolmancé replied, his voice husky and his breathing labored, "It wasn't such a fighter with my fists rammed up its ass."

"You made its vent wide enough to take three cocks at once," the Colonel smirked, "and it cared even less for the cocks than it did your hands."

Daniels's head turned at the scent of the blood running down Spike's legs.

"Well, at least with this one's nose, you might use it for a bloodhound," Dolmancé slapped the back of Daniels's head to draw his attention away from the potential food source in the room.

The Colonel came with a grunt, his seed spurting out, hot and thick. He pulled out of Spike's anus before he was finished with his climax, spraying part of his emissions over the vampire's ass and back. Dolmancé soon finished with Daniels, an orgasm less victorious than the Colonel's.

The Colonel snapped his fingers, "Trigger, find the blood."

Daniels crawled slowly, sniffing the air, until he came to Spike's body. Starting with the dribbles of the vampire's blood and the semen of both military men pooling in the backs of Spike's knees, Daniels began to lick the fluid from Spike's skin. Moving up Spike's thighs, Daniels, led only by smell and taste, fixed his mouth to Spike's still bleeding pucker, delving his tongue into the little orifice. Even if he had been able to see, the younger vampire was too driven by hunger to care where his meal was coming from or what it was mixed with. Spike moaned as the broad, swollen tongue reamed him, licking him out as one would lick the filling out of an ice cream sandwich. There was a small rattling noise as Spike's cock feebly rose inside its cage; the metal encircling the head and root of his penis inside the cage became unbearably painful as the skin was already abraded.

"Enough, Trigger," the Colonel yanked on Daniels's leash.

Daniels, fearing reprimand, pressed his head to the floor. The Colonel stepped down on the side of Daniels's face, not enough to hurt the vampire but to remind him of his place.

Dolmancé went over to Spike and jerked him up by one arm and said with a voice filled with distain, "Don't be rude, Bashful. Trigger was nice enough to wipe your ass. You should return the favor."

Dragged over to Daniels's upturned rump, Dolmancé pressed Spike's face down to the semen-covered crevice. Trying to turn away, Spike felt Dolmancé's hand on the back of his head, forcing him to rub his nose on Daniels's stretched hole.

"Open your mouth!" Dolmancé ordered, raising his hand and bringing it down on Spike's ass.

Spike soon had both men spanking him, their strong hands slapping his backside, threatening him with worse punishments until he finally complied. Spike meekly stuck out his tongue, barely touching the other vampire's skin, but Dolmancé was not appeased with the modest display. Dolmancé gripped Spike's hair again, the peroxided curls tangled up in his fingers, and began forcing Spike's head up and down, making him swallow every trace of semen from Daniels's mutilated body. When he had cleaned the other vampire's body to the humans' satisfaction, Spike was thrown over the arm of one of the leather chairs. The Colonel removed the belt from his trousers and doubled it over his fist. The first blow lit across Spike's ass in a line of fire. Spike almost blacked out from the first few lashes. He's never received such a fierce whipping, not even from Angelus. How could a human be so strong? The sight of Spike's reddened buttocks apparently sent Dolmancé over the edge; as soon as the Colonel had finished Spike's punishment, Dolmancé draped himself over the vampire's back, delving back into the now slack asshole. He savagely bit into Spike's shoulder, causing the vampire to try to kick the human off his back and earned a painful electrical shock for his efforts. The Colonel, showing no fear of the vampire, pressed his turgid length against Spike's lips, and, after a few moments, Spike stopped struggling, opening his mouth to accept his fate. The Colonel and Dolmancé turned Spike slightly on his side at an uncomfortable angle, and the Colonel order Daniels forward and guided the younger vampire's disfigured face to the cage around Spike's genitals. While his face and ass received a vicious fucking from the two humans, Spike felt the skin of his prick being suckled through the metal wires by Daniels's lips. As Dolmancé spilled once more into his ass, Spike gagged as the Colonel's sperm shot down his throat, coughing most of it back up onto the leather chair. Dolmancé ordered Spike to clean up the mess, forcing the vampire to lick up all the seed from the chair, the floors, and from the cocks of the two men who had just raped him.

Spike was so swept up in his emotions that he didn't notice as his body was repositioned when Dolmancé recuffed his ankles back to his wrists. The two men, with Daniels being pulled along on his leash, left through the doorway into Dolmancé's bedroom, leaving Spike alone and hog-tied in the room without a word.

*****

The days passed by with a near-painful slowness and yet Spike could not judge how many it had been. Had it been a full week? Spike also could not shake the images of Daniels's mutilated body from his mind. He obeyed every command, even sucking Dolmancé off without the use of a gag. Spike just wanted to survive long enough for Charise to get home, vowing to never complain about anything she wanted to do to him ever again. He missed her gentle caresses, affectionate words, and the simple pleasure of being clean and cared for. Spike wondered if she thought of him and what she was doing. She had to be coming home soon.

Spike found himself seated on the floor, his knees raised with his feet flat on the floor, his arms drawn between his legs with his wrists chained to his ankles. His tongue was trobbing as it stuck out of his mouth, trapped between two metal chopsticks held together with rubberbands. He had been instructed to lick the bottoms of Dolmancé's loafers clean, and the vampire did so without hesitation. Dolmancé was seated in his armchair, reading a newspaper with his feet propped up on an ottoman within reaching distance of Spike's swollen tongue. As relaxed as Dolmancé tried to appear, the tightness in his jaw was growing more intense every time his PDA buzzed on the endtable. Spike imagined metal springs breaking inside the old man's head and bursting it open like a jack-in-the-box. With every irritated flick of a newspaper page, Spike had to resist the urge to flinch, his instincts telling him to be prepared to recoil. Finally, Dolmancé grabbed the cordless phone and dialed the number appearing on his PDA with stabbing motions of his thumb.

"What do you want?" Dolmancé growled into the receiver.

Spike heard a distinctive female voice screeching on the line, even from his position on the floor.

Dolmancé retorted to whatever had been said to him, "Well, it's not my fault that your pet hasn't answered the phone." He paused, listening, "It was my understanding that the maids would be off this week... Fine, hold." He waited a few moments before leaning forward to remove the rubberbands from the chopsticks that were holding Spike's tongue. Holding his hand over the phone, Dolmancé warned in a hushed tone, "Watch what you say."

After Dolmancé turned on the speaker and held the phone close to the vampire's mouth, Spike managed a dry, all-too-soft, "Caro?"

There was a sigh of relief before Charise tumbled out the words, "Oh, thank goodness! What have you been up to, silly boy? The phone must have been ringing incessantly for days!"

"I'm sorry," Spike's voice was cracking. Though he wanted to tell her everything that happened, he quieted those thoughts as he remembered what had been done to Daniels, "I guess I didn't hear it..."

"It's been so dull without you," Charise replied in a lilting manner, giving the impression that she was twirling a phone cord around her little fingers. "Not that the night life isn't fabulous, but all these meetings are so frightfully boring-"

"When are you coming home?" Spike interrupted her with an attempt to not sound desperate, to keep his voice level, even though Dolmancé was glaring daggers at him.

Charise paused, her tone instantly filled with concern, "Is everything all right? You sound strange..."

"Everything's been fine. Great... I just... I miss you," Spike could not help the neediness from seeping into his words.

"Oh..." Charise was quiet for a few seconds, "My departure date got changed on my tickets somehow, so I won't be able to leave for several more days."

Spike felt his heart sink, and he could not force himself to respond.

Charise spoke rapidly yet very softly, as though she was afraid that someone might be listening in on the coversation, "I'm going to call Pomme and Pêche to tell them to get back there right away."

Spike's body went slack with relief, and he sighed, "Thank you."

Dolmancé disconnected the phone and backhanded the vampire, "You're not going to say a word to the Sow. You're going to keep your filthy mouth shut if you know what's good for you! One phone call, that's all it will take for you to get sent where you'll never come back, and you'll wish you were back sucking my cock!"

Feeling a sudden surge of rebellion, Spike began shouting a torrent of every insult and curse he could think of and in multiple languages. He just keep hurling the vilest lanuage at the old man, weaving a tapestry of obscenity that would rival the one hanging over Terre Haute, even as Dolmancé kicked and swiped at him. Knocking Spike on his side, Dolmancé grabbed his PDA and shoved it violently into the vampire's perianum, trying to push it into Spike's body. Spike screamed as one corner of the device was wedged into his hole and kept being forced deeper inside, tearing the vampire open. Satisfied that the PDA was far enough inside that the vampire could not readily push it back out, Dolmancé grabbed his phone and began to dial his pager number. The PDA began to vibrate, and Spike groaned loudly. Dolmancé kept redailing the number until Spike's hips began to jerk forward, trying to get his bound arms near his crotch to relieve some of the pressure growing there. Dolmancé pulled the remote to Spike's collar from his pocket and began pushing it, holding it down until the vampire slipped into unconsciousness, and his body stopped its spasming.

When Spike awoke again, he was alone on the floor in Dolmancé's room. All of his bonds had been removed. There were no fetters or gags, even the cock cage had been removed. Spike dragged himself to his feet, and then he ran to the door. After fumbling with the doorknob, he launched himself into the main hallway and sprinted as fast as he could, his feet slapping on the marble floor and echoing throughout the whole mansion. Spike was disoriented before realizing what side of the house he was on. The sun shone brightly through the foyer windows, so there was no safety to be found outside. Spike flew up the stairs three at a time, falling once and cutting his left knee open on a step. The injury did not slow the vampire as he reached his apartments and didn't stop to shut the door. He practically threw himself into his closet, the safest place he could think of, locking the doors and began barricading them with a dresser and the vanity table, make-up, jewelry, and other contents spilling everywhere. His hands tossed clothes off the racks, trying to reassure himself that there were no other ways into the closet via secret passageways. Finding none, Spike finally stopped his franticness and caught sight of himself in the monitor mirrors at the end of the closet.

The first thing that struck Spike was how filthy he appeared, standing amongst the pristine finery. He was covered in blood, dried fluids, and the grime from being pushed around on the floor and locked in a box for a week. His skin was littered with scratches, burns, bitemarks, and greenish-brown bruises. His penis appeared completely mangled from the damage caused by the cage that had been attached to him. Spike picked up the vanity brench and smashed it against the glass of the monitors, watching the shattered pieces rained down on the plush carpet. Breathing heavily, Spike let the bench drop from his hands and curled himself into a corner behind some long frock coats and banyans. Then, he waited for the sound of Dolmancé trying to break down the door, and he waited to be shocked remotely, but nothing came.

Though Spike was not sure how long he remained there before he heard the sound of someone trying to open the closet doors, the mermaid-shaped knobs jiggling, his urge to fight was completely gone.

"Baby?" came Pomme's voice. "Are you in there?"

Spike nearly cried with relief. He pushed himself slowly and uneasily to stand and went to the doors. He haphazardly pushed the furniture and detritus out of the way and unlocked the doors. Pomme and Pêche were standing just outside the threshold in their street clothes. Both women gasped in horror when they saw the state he was in.

"Dear God, what happened?" Pêche tried to place her hand on Spike's arm.

Spike jerked away from her touch, but the motion proved too much for his weak body, and he fell to the floor.

"Just get me in the tub," he said quietly, allowing them to help him stand.

As they led him into the bathroom, Spike felt safe, knowing that at least these two young women would protect him until his owner returned.

To be continued...




Find all chapters for this story thus far here.

x-posted on darker_spike and nekid_spike.