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Rules and Customs

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“Dinnertime,” chimed Xander. He held up a bag of blood. “Also, I brought dessert.”

Angel looked up slowly through the bars of his cell. Already? Again? He sighed and dragged himself closer to where Xander stood waiting. He wore the same, not very nice, smile that he always did when he was in charge of feeding time. Angel settled himself on his knees, as close to the bars as possible without actually letting any part of himself go past them. The heavy chain linking his waist to the back wall was not quite taut.

“What do you say, dear?” sing-songed Xander.

“Please, sir, may I have some supper?” intoned Angel, flatly.

“Yes, you may,” answered Xander, putting the bag down on the small table by the door and leaning into the bars, putting his leather-covered groin directly in front of Angel’s impassive face.

Angel went to work, mouthing Xander’s burgeoning erection through the leather, huffing out occasional breaths, until he heard Xander’s strangled “Yes”. This was his cue to use his teeth to undo the button of the pants and slowly lower the zipper. He kept his hands carefully clasped behind his back. There were rules, and when there weren’t rules, there were customs. The custom with Xander was for Angel to do the job with no touching, other than mouth on cock. It was difficult and humiliating, but Angel vastly preferred this humiliation to the horror of the times they’d left live food for him in the cell. Nobody had been happy with the result. Not the victim, slowly dying of thirst; not Angel, unable to look away for even a second; and not the minions, tasked with clearing out the “spoiled food” when the Master complained of the smell. No, this was certainly better than that.

Once the zipper was lowered, Angel carefully grasped the waistband of Xander’s boxers with his teeth, pulled out far enough to lower the elastic past his hard-on, and then wiggled his head back and forth, shimmying the cotton and leather downward until there was no fabric impeding his access to Xander’s genitals. He took a breath.

“Please, sir, may I have a taste?” he said, as if by rote, which it was.

“Yes, you may,” said Xander, happily, grasping a couple of the bars at shoulder height for leverage.

Angel leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to the tip of Xander’s cock, then gave it a small, soft lick. He swirled his tongue around the head, and then dropped down to the base, and gave a long, wet slurp up the shaft, bottom to top. Xander hummed, and Angel surrounded his member with his lips and began to slide down.

“Hey now. Thought you’d been told to give the rest of us a turn, Tweedledum,” came a soft complaint from behind Xander. Xander jumped, and turned his head, but he couldn’t pull away from Angel’s mouth, as the speaker was standing just an inch behind him. Angel froze.

“M-master Spike!” breathed Xander. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“Clearly,” said Spike, amused. “Don’t let me interrupt.” He didn’t move away.

“Um, okay,” said Xander, nervously. “Are you sure you don’t want to take over? Or, or you could go after me. He has quite an appetite, usually.” Angel stayed perfectly still.

“Take your seconds, boy? Don’t think so. Not a nice suggestion. Need a lesson do you?”

“No, sir! Just thought you wanted….” He took a deep breath. “Yes, sir. As you wish, sir.”

“That’s better,” said Spike, still silkily quiet. “Now. Think I told you to carry on.” Angel swallowed reflexively around Xander’s cock, making Xander hiss and begin to rock his hips a little.

“Right, then,” said Spike, tugging Xander’s pants down lower, fully exposing his behind. He undid his buckle, and took off his belt, wrapping it around his hand few times, leaving a foot of leather dangling from his grasp. Angel counted the shallow strokes of Xander’s dick against his tongue, waiting.


Xander muffled his gasp and surged into Angel’s mouth, striking the back of his throat sharply. Angel thought of the red welt the thick leather must’ve left on Xander’s ass. He smiled a very small smile.

Crack! Crack!

Xander writhed, pumping twice into Angel’s mouth.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

He whimpered and thrust forward without rhythm. Angel had to work to keep his balance and not break contact.

Spike dropped the belt to the floor.

“Now,” he said. “Want you to hold those sweet cheeks of yours apart for me.”

Xander hastened to comply, hissing as his rough fingers aggravated the burning welts on his ass. He continued to pump shallowly into Angel’s mouth. Angel looked up to see Spike’s thumb plunge into Xander’s mouth a few times. Xander tried to lick it thoroughly, but Angel knew that he was having trouble keeping all his assigned tasks straight. Drool began to inch down Xander’s chin. Spike pulled out his thumb with a plop, and Angel knew the instant he plunged it into Xander’s ass.

“Hu-Holy Sweet Whiskey on Rye,” he cried, forgetting to fuck Angel’s mouth while he shuddered with pleasure and pain.

Spike pushed Xander’s neck flush against the wall of bars while he prodded and stretched his anus, causing Xander’s cock to twitch against Angel’s tongue.

Finally, Spike pulled out his thumb, undid his flies, and lined up his cock with Xander’s prepared hole. “Keep those hands right there,” he instructed. He slid the head of his prick an inch or so into Xander, and then did what Angel had been dreading. He threaded his arms through where Xander’s elbows angled outward, and through the gaps of the cell bars. He wrapped one hand around the back of Angel’s neck, and the other around the back of his head, and then thrust, hard, into Xander, making him buck deep into Angel’s throat.

As soon as he felt Spike’s touch, Angel felt his cock start to twitch. Spike fucked Xander slowly, caressing Angel’s neck as he pumped deeply into the boy. Angel’s cock filled quickly, and he was soon aching and heavy. Spike sped up, scratching lightly at the back of Angel’s head as he plunged into Xander, again and again.

Angel wished Spike would stop touching him. It was so hard to stay numb when family, his real family, paid him the slightest attention. He didn’t want to feel anything, didn’t want the spark of excitement that even this small connection brought. It made everything worse. When it was over, he would still be chained in a cell. But he would have to beat away the memories of closeness that these little touches brought. He would, once again, have to get used to being so very alone.

Xander was keening as the sensations crashed into him, the sting of his fingers on reddened ass cheeks, Spike’s cock bumping his prostate, his own cock being engulfed by Angel’s vibrating throat. He looked down to see tears streaming down Angel’s face and came with a garbled yelp, unable to tell his own thrashings from the hiccoughs of Angel’s sobs. He shuddered and jerked, and would have lost the rhythm again, except that Spike was an irresistible force.

Spike held Angel’s head firmly as he thrust furiously into Xander. Xander was so sensitized that he was dancing on his tiptoes, but still Spike plunged in and out, in and out, until he came with a long grunt. He spasmed and spurted into Xander, running his hands over Angel’s head, clutching his ears, stroking his wet cheeks, mussing his hair. Finally, he pulled out of Xander and took a step back.

“Get along now. I’ll finish up with him,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Xander nodded and hitched up his pants, shuffling out as quickly as he could. Spike didn’t watch him go. He picked up his belt walked over to the cell and looked down at Angel, still on his knees, shivering with emotion.

“Clean me up.”

Angel leaned forward to where Spike’s half-hard cock jutted through the bars, and began to carefully lick him clean. While Spike rethreaded his belt through his loops, Angel made sure to clean everything, including any moisture on Spike’s balls and thighs, and tried to nuzzle him dry as best he could. When he was finished, Spike was fully erect and throbbing.

“Smartly done,” said Spike, doing up his flies once more.

“Don’t you want me to take care of that?” murmured Angel, looking down. He immediately regretted speaking. Prolonging contact now would just prolong the agony of no contact later on.

“Nah. Got something better to do with it. Ta ever so. I’ll be sure to let her know ‘Daddy’ sealed it with a kiss, though.” He turned to leave, but paused by the table at the door.

“Supposed to make sure you toss off before you get dessert,” he remembered. Angel waited. This was the part that was almost impossible to get through with Xander, since inspiration was in such short supply, but he didn’t think he’d have a problem today.

“Can’t really be arsed, though,” Spike sniffed. “Don’t like to keep a lady waiting.” He lifted the bag of blood and slid it across the floor to Angel.

“Know you’ll do the right thing, though, won’t ya?” he winked. He turned with a swirl of his coat and left Angel alone.

Angel stared at the bag of blood by his knee. He didn’t have to go through the final degradation for his ration of crappy pig’s blood. He could just eat and try for the blessed oblivion of sleep as the sun rose outside. But, rules were rules.

He lowered his zipper, and began the depressing business of stroking his own cock.