“When you’re marking the pets you may come, but only then.  At any other time, until I remove the plug before the meeting, you’ll come only if I allow it, and only by my hand.  If for any reason you can’t wait, you may request it of me.  If you do, I’ll give you release, but be warned; I’ll take it straight from the source.”

It should have been ridiculously easy.  The plan for the pets’ continued body training was a simple one; take them often, and always in the presence of at least one other pet or their other master so that they began to put aside their human sense of modesty and privacy.  There was no place for either as pets in a Vampire House.

What that meant was that Spike could get off whenever he liked, at least in theory.  The problem was that he himself had given the pets the day off, and that meant that no demands could be made of them except in the case of an emergency affecting House, Clan or Order.

Unfortunately, much as it might appear otherwise to himself at the moment, Spike could not, in all honesty, claim that his hard-on constituted an actual emergency of any kind.  God knows he’d been made to endure one for long periods of time back in the day (it was one of Darla’s favorite past-times).  But the pulsing ache along his throbbing prick did indeed feel amazingly urgent just now.  He’d come twice in the last few hours, but Spike was a vampire, and that meant that his refraction rate was essentially non-existent.  When you added to that the fact that he’d been turned at the tender age of twenty-six, when his libido was peaking, it would not be incorrect to assume that he was essentially horny all the time.  It didn’t matter how many times Angelus had taken him over a century ago, or how many times he’d had Dru or Buffy or Harmony in the century that followed, at least several – and often more – wanks a day were far and away the norm for him.

So here he was, under the wet heat of one of the most marvelous of all modern inventions, the high pressure shower, with a perfectly good stiffy waiting to be pulled to nirvana and back, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it without Angel there to, er, give him a hand, as it were.  The good news in that scenario was that if there was a single demon he knew to be hornier than himself, it was Angelus.  The bad news was that when he was immersed in his art, you approached his sire for anything – even something so fundamentally important as sex – at your own peril.

No, he doubted Angel would consider his prick a Clan emergency either, under the circumstances, though had it been his sire’s own, he was sure it would have been a different matter altogether.

He smacked his forehead against the tiled wall three times, sighed, then turned off the water and stepped out.  The towel he wrapped around himself didn’t so much cover as highlight his problem, and he sighed again, finally tossing it aside to pull on his jeans.  He did up the bottom three buttons, then after staring at the door while chewing on his bottom lip reflectively for five minutes, pulled it open, stepped into the hallway, and silently made his way down to the end of the wing where the pets’ rooms were located.

The three pets each had their own rooms; Wesley’s to the left side, with Gunn and Illyria’s across from his, on the right.  All three rooms were in the same wing as Angel’s and Spike’s, but separated from the vampires by a good fifty feet.  The first door he reached was Gunn’s, but not a sound came from it.  Not for a moment, though, despite its being almost two-thirty in the morning, did he presume that his friend was asleep.  All of them were now securely on a nocturnal schedule, and more importantly, he could hear all three of the pets’ voices emanating from Illyria’s room, just twelve feet further down.  Making his way to that door, he stood beside it and pitched his hearing to the human’s voices.  They were quiet, but quite animated for all that, and after a moment, when he realized that they were comparing the contents of their toy chests, he understood why.

Spike sighed for what felt like the hundredth time, glancing forlornly down at the bulge straining against the front of his jeans again.

“Spike?”

The soft voice startled him from his self-pitying introspection and he spun about abruptly to find Angel standing at the top of the stairs at their end of the hallway.  Abashed, he quickly made his way back toward that end.  Angel moved forward and met him just outside the door to his own suite.

Spike ducked his head, not anxious to meet his sir’s needle-sharp gaze just now, even though he knew there was no hiding his arousal; vampire senses would pick it up easily, even had it not been as plainly visible as the nose on his face.

“I…”

He stumbled to a halt, then frowned, quickly thinking things through.  Maybe there was a way out of his predicament after all.  Angel was obviously through with his work or taking a break, and either way, perhaps he would command a marking session with him, saving him from having to make the request.  His frown deepened as he admitted to himself that by Angel’s warning alone, such a session would not necessarily result in his own release.  He chanced a glance up through the fringe of his lashes in an attempt to gage his sire’s mood, and winced.  Angel stood with his arms crossed over his chest, making absolutely no effort to help him with his all-too-obvious plight.

Spike sighed yet again.  He knew when to accept the inevitable.

“I need to come, sire,” he said quietly, staring down at his bare feet.

The door beside him opened and Angel stepped inside, holding it open for his childe to pass through.

“Strip,” the dark vampire said as he continued on through the seating area and into the bedroom beyond.

Spike gave a tug to his fly and the bottom three buttons came undone.  A shove and a kick as he moved and they were off, left behind in the kitchen area while he followed his sire through the bedroom door.  Once there he found Angel rummaging in a small chest in his closet.  When the brunet turned back to him, in his hands he held several lengths of chain and four leather cuffs.  He dropped them to the floor at the foot of the bed, then tugged the covers off until they pooled beside them, only the cotton fitted sheet and plump pillows remaining on the large mattress.

Spike swallowed hard.

“Lay down on your back,” Angel said, indicating the foot of the bed as opposed to the head.

After an almost imperceptible pause, Spike took up the position indicated on the bed.  He reached out for the bottom two corners with both hands, knowing what would follow.  The two smaller cuffs were quickly buckled onto his wrists, and then one end of two chains were attached to the D-rings on the buckles while the other ends were secured to D-rings sunk into the floor just beneath the bed, by the bottom legs at each corner.  Spike knew those D-rings would be sunk deep through the hardwood floor and into a large 12x12 beam beneath, and that Angel would have tested their strength to ensure that not even Angelus could escape them as long as the chains and whatever they were attached to, cuffs or manacles, were magically enhanced.

A few minutes were all it took until both hands were secured.  Then his sire moved to buckle the remaining two, larger cuffs around his legs, just above each knee.  A second set of chains was attached to the cuffs, and when they were drawn tight and secured to the same D-rings at the foot of the bed, Spike’s legs were drawn up, back, and to his sides, bending him almost in half and exposing his lower torso, genitals and plug-filled anus completely.  The second set of chains traced along the first, and Spike closed his hands about that length, gripping them tightly.

He’d experienced this before, at this very vampire’s hands, although it had been well over a hundred years since the last time it had happened.  It was one of the most intense things he’d ever undergone, and to this day he didn’t know whether it was the greatest pleasure or the greatest pain there was, only that it defied description.  He tried not to think about it, the very idea too disturbing to consider at length.  Angel’s back was now to him as he sifted through the contents of one of his bedside table drawers.  When he turned back to the younger vampire, in his hand he held a thin piece of leather with two smaller straps attached to it.

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Angel said, seeing his childe’s wide-eyed gaze pinned with horrified fascination on the cockring in his hand.

Spike clamped his lips shut and shook his head once, and after a short pause to assess that response, Angel accepted his decision and pushed off his workout pants, revealing his own erect prick.  A minute later he settled on the mattress and rested one hand on his childe’s tautly-stretched thigh, rubbing there lightly before moving to cup the straining cock at the apex of both legs.  He worked the shaft, foreskin and crown for a while before moving downward to fondle the heavy balls below.  The leather strap was dropped to the mattress and his other hand joined in.  Apparently he’d decided that the blond could be a bit harder before it was attached and the true game began.

Spike remembered the second instance he’d undergone this torment – ecstasy, his demon whispered darkly in contradiction.  He hadn’t had any reference point for what would happen the first time, but the second time…  The second time he shook with fear, knowing what was to come, but completely unable to prepare himself for such an incredibly intense experience.  He’d quickly become limp then, and Angelus had snorted with disgust, working his childe over so firmly that he was helpless to do anything but respond.  He’d attached the band and then left the fledgling alone for an hour, coming back to remove it and work his cock and balls yet again.  This had gone on for over twelve hours, and Angelus was only satisfied when William’s balls were larger than he’d ever seen them before, hugely swollen and full, like fruit ripe for the plucking.

Just as they were now.

Spike groaned, both relieved and dismayed that there would be no twelve hour delay this time.  No, he thought, as Angel picked up the band and secured it around the base of his thickly straining cock and balls, no reprieve whatsoever.  The smaller bands were attached next.  They circled each ball, separating them in their shared sac and squeezing them tight until they bulged in their respective restraints.  Angel lightly stroked over each taut surface, licking his lips.

“Oh god,” Spike whimpered, unable to stop himself.

Angel glanced at him with a very Angelus-like smirk, acknowledging the lapse and it’s unintended but ironic corollary to himself, as this particular vampire’s maker.  His face shifted, and the meaning was heightened in sharp relief, amber gold eyes glowing beneath a ridged brow, with sharp fangs dripping saliva below.

“Blood first,” Angel whispered, lost in his demon.

His big hand circled his childe’s straining shaft as he lowered his head, positioning one upper fang just over the gaping and dripping slit at the head of Spike’s prick.  Slowly he sank it in and the younger vampire bit his lip as he tried not to move.  The first time he’d had it done, he couldn’t stop himself from jerking away, resulting in a very nasty tear from the sharp incisor along a full two inches of his urethra.  He knew better now, but he also knew that tear he would.  A second later, when the upper fang was completely imbedded, that very thing happened as the elder vampire slowly closed his jaw, sinking the lower incisor into the iron-hard shaft beneath the head like a hot knife through butter.  Angel suckled gently, so that the blood would drain slowly, and it was several minutes before all of it that had been pooled in his childe’s straining cock now trickled down his own throat.  Carefully the fangs were withdrawn and two sets of golden eyes inspected the now-flacid penis with intense concentration.

It was perhaps the strangest and yet most benign sensation of the series of intense sensations that would follow; feeling his balls so full, but his cock so empty and now unresponsive, lying quiescent and fragile, held off to one side near the crook of his thigh, so that both vampire’s had an unobstructed view of the taut balls beneath.  The normal exit route via what had been a full erection wouldn’t be needed today, and in fact would only hinder the experience that Angel intended to impart, and so it had been eliminated.

“Choose, childe,” Angel lisped hoarsely.

Spike whimpered again, for a moment completely incapable of making the decision that would set the final wheel in motion.

“Choose,” the dark vampire said again, this time in the sire command voice that left no room for defiance.

“Left,” the blond whispered raggedly.  He bit his lip hard to keep from reversing the call, knowing that however more intense the choosing made the action seem, in the end it made no difference at all.  The pain would be no more and no less regardless of that choice, and delaying the inevitable now would only increase his escalating anxiety.

“Do it, Sire, please,” he finally begged, desperate to get it over with now that the time was at hand.

“As you wish,” the vampire above him conceded.

Angel leaned down to slaver over his left ball.  He licked it with his raspy demon tongue, then suckled upon it hard until the sensation was intense.  Spike felt as though the ball and its contents would burst out of the straining skin surrounding it, and a moment later, when Angel sank his fangs into it, that’s exactly what happened.

A hand covered his mouth just as the teeth sank in, and Spike’s tortuous howl was muffled by his sire’s large palm.  His torso arched and jerked helplessly – holding still was absolutely impossible when this particular bite came.  And then the older vampire was drinking him down, cum and blood combined, emptying him completely.

Spike screamed into the hand covering him, the agony worse than anything he’d ever experienced.  It was worse than that time when, as a fledgling, he’d been branded by Angelus for fun, the scars fading to nothing a few short days later.  Worse than the longest lashing he’d endured with a bullwhip at Darla’s hands after that unfortunate incident in a Yorkshire coalmine.  Worse than when his sire had flayed the skin from his body in small, thin strips with a pearl-handled fruit knife dipped in holy water after his lack of attention had resulted in every single member of the targeted House of the Normandy Clan escaping after weeks of careful planning during the scourge.

It was worse than anything, and better than anything.  It was beyond understanding except at the very core of his demon, where he seemed to understand it perfectly.

Before the left ball was emptied, his throat was raw and his screams were silent, but they went on and on, his mind unable to process and make sense of what his body now endured.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Angel withdrew his hand from his childe’s mouth and his fangs from the now deflated ball and sat back on his haunches, staring down intently at his childe.  He rolled the now flaccid sack of flesh between his fingers, squeezing out the last drops of jiz, until the bag was completely empty, and then his gaze shifted to the other one, still tight and full in its leather wrap.

“Please,” the blond whimpered, eyes glazed and unfocused.

“You want me to stop?” Angel asked, his eyes lifting to his childe’s face once more.

Spike whimpered again as he tried to focus on the hazy image of his sire.  He looked like an angel, dark and bright, beautiful and terrible.  His demon, stripped to the core, recognized that the creature above him was everything.  Angel would stop if he asked it, he knew he would, just as Angelus would have, back in the day.  But he would be diminished by the asking.  He’d never done it before, and Spike knew that no matter how much he wanted to, no matter how much his mind insisted, he wouldn’t do it now.  He shook his head, determined to prove his worth, determined to let this creature strip him bare, to his basest essentials, beyond pain and pleasure, into the realm of pure sensation.  He tried to remember if the trials in that distant African cave had been as difficult, and decided there was just no way to compare the two.

“Do it,” Spike rasped hoarsely, before he was unmanned and unable.

Angel nodded, a sympathetic gleam in his golden eyes, then bent to the full right ball remaining.  A minute later another scream split the night.