The Divine Play Thing. ©2011.14 Chaoticworks Inc.

Title: The Divine Plaything
Author/pseudonym: Nytshaed
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and OC.
Rating: Rated NC-17 for Sex: homosexual, language and violence. No part may be reposted, published or reproduced without written explicit permission of the author.
Status: Complete.
Archive: On Chaoticworks.com only. No part may be reposted, published or reproduced without written explicit permission of the author.
E-mail address for feedback: nytshaed@ix.netcom.com
Series/Sequel: This could very well be the start of a series.
Other websites: http://www.chaoticworks.com/fiction/
Disclaimer: AJ belongs to Chaoticworks, Inc, and Spike belongs to the Buffy folk. While *I* don't believe that Kindred can have sexual relations, Spike apparently does, so this breaks with MY Kindred canon.
Notes:
Summary: Spike looks for an easy bite, and finds a worthy opponent.
Warnings: None

As Spike walked through the smoky darkness of the club, he narrowed his eyes and surveyed the crowd for possibilities. He inhaled deeply, and after filtering out the annoying scents of clove cigarette smoke, cheap perfume, and sweat, his sensitive nose found a scent unlike any other he had encountered before. This scent while unfamiliar at first also had some thing about it that seemed familiar. Moving through the crowd unnoticed his eyes roamed over the warm bodies looking for the source of the scent.

His tracking soon led him to the edge of the dance floor, not wanting to become part of the throbbing mass of humanity dancing there, he stood on the edge of the floor folding his arms over his chest as he watched. The scent was nearby but he still could not fixed a firm of location on it. His concentration was disturbed when he was suddenly struck from behind. Quickly turning around he encountered a male that appeared to be approximately the same visual age as he was. Long ebony hair framed a handsome face with a slight olive complexion, and luminous lavender eyes peered coldly at him from under dark bangs. The mouth under the eyes crept up into a razor sharp grin, as the stranger looked Spike over with a mild interest. Spike returned the casual gaze with a narrowed predatory scowl of his own, and putting his hands on the stranger's shoulders, and gave him a mighty shove backwards.

"Piss off Pretty Boy!" Spike growled, "or I will have to make you much less pretty. "

The stranger's grin only widened, and while giving Spike a mocking expression, he returned the shove with equal force. The force of the push sent Spike backpeddling a step or two, and when he had regained his footing, he found that the stranger had melted into the crowd and disappeared. Raging with fury, Spike set off in the direction he assumed the man in black had gone, shoving patrons to the side with no concern as to how they landed. He enabled his vampire eyes, using the enhanced vision to survey the crowd, and soon he spotted his quarry leaning against the bar. Spike shoved his way to right behind the stranger and stopped just short of physical contact. As if sensing his arrival, the stranger slowly turned and looked back over his shoulder at Spike, grinning.

"Ahhh, are you upset because I didn't give you a kiss good-bye?" purred the stranger in a low tone of voice.

"It's not a kiss I'm looking for from you mate," Spike hissed, "but a piece of your ass."

The amused grin that Spike got was infuriating to him, and it the reply that followed, sent him over the edge.

"Well, get in line Limey Boy, there are dozens ahead of you." he said with a dismissive wave of a hand,

Spike snarled, and grabbing hold of the arrogant one by the shoulders of his black leather jacket, he used his superior strength to shove him backwards through the crowd and down a hallway until his back collided with a wall near a supply room. Spike's eyes glowed yellow with rage and locked with the lavender ones of his prey.

"I am going to enjoy making you suffer long before I kill you, " Spike hissed as he drove a curled fist into the belly of his captive. The man doubled over with the force of the blow, letting out a quiet groan. Slowly he lifted his face back up to confront Spike, and grinned, "Bring it on."

Having said that, the stranger returned the favor to Spike with a savage punch to Spike's nose. The force of the blow again sent Spike back a step or two, but he regained and charged at his intended prey striking him in the midsection and again driving him back into the wall. Again the stranger grunted with the force of Spike's attack, but each time was able to return an equally ferocious blow that would have dropped any mortal. During one exchange of blows, to force and knocked Spike and his victim back against a door that opened and dropped them both on the ground outside the club. The door closed behind them with a loud "thud", leaving them to continue their brawl alone and uninterrupted in the alley by sickly lamp light.

Several minutes passed, and while Spike's street brawler style was an effective form of attack, the stranger employed various types of martial arts to defend and attack. Moments passed, and as both paused, although not to catch their breath, but merely to assess the other. The stranger wiped a trail of blood flowing from his nose off on the back of his arm and then spat out a gob of blood at Spike's feet contemptuously.

"Is that the best you've got? " he taunted Spike, and made a motion with his hands for Spike to come at him again.

Spike roared in rage, this time unable to control the Beast inside, and with his true vampire nature showing he charged at his tormentor with such force, that this time he knocked him to the ground amidst a line of garbage cans. He then set to pummeling the man with such savage blows in such rapid succession, that no defense was possible.

When Spike's red-tinged vision cleared, he sat back on his heels and looked down at the inert form laying on the ground before him. The man lay perfectly still, there were no breaths being taken, no signs of life. He pressed his head to the man's chest and listened for a heartbeat, there was none. Spike wiped at a trickle of blood oozing from his own nose as he snarled in disgust at his victim. "Do you see what you get?!" he growled, "No one messes with the Big Bad and lives to tell the tale," he said contemptuously and rising to his feet, spit out a mouthful of his own cold blood near the body. He turned and readjusted his jacket as he made his way back towards the club. The sound of quiet mocking laughter came from behind him, and spinning on his heels he turned to see the man now sitting up grinning at him wickedly.

Spike's erst while victim, was now readjusting his clothing as well and while continuing to laugh deep in his throat, languidly got up to his feet shaking his head, "I've had rougher foreplay from a girl then you can fight, " he taunted, continuing to laugh.

"Foreplay is it? " Spike mused as he began to move towards the man again, "then let's just skip the preliminaries, and move on to the main event," he threatened as he dove at the man and attacked him anew.

The fight ensued again, and while it to continued longer than the first round, the end result was the same. Spike managed to render the man unconscious and apparently life less once again. However, this time while his foe was immobilized, he produced a pair of handcuffs, using them to bind the man's hands behind his back. Tearing a swath of cloth from the black T-shirt the man wore under his jacket, he used that as a gag. Lifting the form of the man up, he placed him so that he was leaning over a discarded table that had somehow managed to avoid damage during a the brawl. Grabbing hold of the long black hair that fell mid-back on his victim, Spike cruelly yanked it so he could look better at the face of his prey. What damage that should have been there from the fight to was quickly healing, and when he checked for signs of a pulse, where there had been none moments before, one had again returned.

"You aren't a vampire, why won't you die?! " Spike muttered under his breath, letting go of the hair so that the head contacted the table with a "thunk". He only had a moment or to longer to wait before eyelids fluttered, and again those oddly lavender eyes beheld him with a mocking gaze. The man did not fight the bonds he found himself in. But used his eyes and grin to convey his amusement at the predicament he found himself in. It was then the that Spike recalled the strangers remark regarding foreplay. Arousal at the apparent inability to be killed that this fellow creature of the dark possessed, Spike moved around behind the bent over form and reaching down began to unfasten the pants of his captive. The low chuckling laughter that came from the chest and behind the a gag only served to stoke his cruel desires. With a single rending pull, Spike pulled the soft leather pants down to around the man's knees, exposing his backside to him and the night that surrounded them.

"It's a pity I don't know your name pretty one " Spike whispered in the left ear of his captive as he bent forward while undoing the snap and zipper of his own trousers, " I won't know the name of the bitch I am buggering before I kill you for good, " he chuckled as he freed his pale hard cock from it's hiding place.

His victim laughed again behind the gag, and rage contorted Spike's face as he took his right thumbnail and drew it across the round of the man's right ass cheek, drawing forth a bead of dark blood. Spike lifted his thumb this mouth and tasted the warm vitae. It burned like hellfire on his tongue. Wild, hot and spiced in a way that no blood had tasted to him before. He paused for just a second confused, for this was not a demon's blood, but something completely alien to him.

Because he was behind the man, he could not see the rapturous expression crossing the handsome face as the thumbnail cut into his skin. Likewise he did not see the expression that followed as he lubed the tip of his cock with the warm blood, and then shoved it savagely into asshole of his prey. Placing his pale hands on the hips of the warm, damp body beneath him, Spike thrust, then pulled back and thrust again until he had driven the entirety of himself into the hot channel of his hostage. As he did so, moans replaced the laughter of before, and Spike clenched his fingernails tightly to the hips beneath his, letting further blood.

Once his cock had made a path into the man beneath him, Spike pressed his upper body down on his prey, letting him feel his weight, and continued to thrust. He had no need to breathe, but did so that each driving thrust was paired with a groan of delight in the ear of his toy. Groans simmered behind the gag, and the body beneath his moved in counter time to his thrusts, eager for more. Spike slowly slid his right hand downward until he found the warm hardness of an equally endowed cock, and wrapped his cold fingers around it's throbbing heat. The man moaned again, and bucked his hips against Spike's stroking hand.

"Oh, like this do you?" he hissed near an ear before finding it with his fangs through the long hair and delivering a cruel bite, "It's the least I can do before I have my use of you, pump my spunk into your ass then drink your life from you..."

More eager moans punctuated with grunts from his thrusts followed, and Spike slipped his hand up and down the hot shaft in his hand. He ran the ball of his thumb over the slit in the top, smearing the slippery pre-cum around for lubrication. Closing his eyes, he growled as he pumped his cold cock in and out of the hot body eagerly taking him in. He loved penetrating mortals, they were so warm, and so wet against the cold dryness of his own flesh.

Thick volcanic heat erupting in pulses over his right hand, coupled with tormented moans and squirms beneath signaled he had jerk raped his victim to a climax. He felt the ragged heaving of his chest as he struggled for air, and shivered with pleasure. Spike gripped his hand hard around the pulsing cock, using it and the man's hip for leverage as he thrust madly against the convulsing ass under him. Crying out in a feral growl, he thrust a final series of times as he shot his cold load into the ass of his plaything, and then throwing himself down prone on the bound form, drove his fangs into the right jugular vein as it throbbed with passion.

As his cold seed pumped into his captive lover, hot fiery blood pulsed into his mouth in rushing waves. Spike drank, and thrust, and drank and thrusted until he was spent. Quickly he moved both hands to the shoulders of the man beneath him, and pressed him down against the table, holding him fast as he drained his life from him. The undulations of passion soon gave way to trembles and small convulsions, then movement was limited to struggled breathing. As he heard the slowing heart beat of his victim, he reached up and tore the gag from his mouth. A "whoosh" of hot breathy air escaped, then quiet muffled gasps.

Spike lifted his mouth from the pouring wound long enough to hiss into his ear, "Your name... tell me your name..." he commanded before replacing his mouth over the bite, and sucking hard enough to drain the entirely of his life from him.

Parched lips parted, but before a word could be spoken, darkness shrouded those lavender eyes, and surrendering, he went limp. Spike continued to feed to the point of being bloated, when at last the flow of blood ceased even with his most vehement sucking. The body was now deathly pale and rapidly cooling in the freezing night, Spike withdrew from it, and leaned dazed against the fence as he redressed himself.

"What WERE you?" he whispered, then looked around making sure nothing had been seen or heard. Confirming this, he returned to the fallen form. He pulled up the pants, and then laid him supine on the table in a macabre sort of viewing ceremony. After retrieving his handcuffs, he noted the bruising and damage they had caused in the soft flesh on his wrists. Shaking his head with a modicum of pity, he turned and lit a cigarette before reentering the club. As he sucked on the fag, he closed his eyes and could feel the power and fire of the dead man's blood coursing through his veins. Not even Slayer's blood had tasted like this. This was the stuff of something much more potent and malevolent.

He stood there for several minutes, lost in the rapture of the sensation, when the unmistakable "snap" of a Zippo being closed behind him caused him to freeze. Suddenly stone cold sober, he whirled around.

Sitting up on the table, his long legs now crossed and sucking on a cigarette himself sat The Victim that would not be. His lavender eyes glowed in a way that only unnatural beings' do, and his razor smile cut across his face as he beheld the astonished Vampire before him.

"AJ," he offered in a delightful tenor edged with an odd accent, "Your cock is cold, and you need longer hair, but man you are a _hellacious_ fuck, " he said before doing an elegant french inhale of his cigarette.

Spike watched, thunderstruck as the man slipped down from the table with the grace of a jungle cat and slipped past him towards the door of the club which he opened, bathing them both in the loud smoky heat from inside.

"Shall we?" he asked with an incline of his head, and a wink of his eye.

Spike tossed away his cigarette which was now leaving a very foul taste in his mouth, "Right! After you, bitch!" he growled as he took the door in one hand and AJ's shoulder in the other as they returned inside.

End.