tamingthemuse | Survivor's Guilt 2/? (Prompt: Inertia)

Title: Survivor’s Guilt, 2/?
Fandom: BtVS/Ats
Prompt: Inertia
Warnings: bdsm, slavery
Rating: Adults Only
Summary: This is a post-NFA fic. Giles finds Spike as a slave for sale, with no memory of his past. He buys him and takes him home, intending to try to fix him if he can. This chapter- Giles fights with his own dark nature.

Previous parts here.

As it turned out, Giles didn’t last the night. He found himself standing outside the door, fighting with himself. His hands were at his sides, clenching and unclenching, as he tried to resist opening the door. He lost. He turned the knob, and he was inside.

William was sleeping fitfully, but the sound of the door opening made him jerk awake. He looked at Giles pleadingly. His cock was purplish with trapped blood, and his jaw still obscenely distended from the gag.

Giles walked over closer. His steps were slow, and he could feel the struggle inside him again. He closed his eyes for a moment. He often thought, in less emotional moments than this, that he understood just a tiny bit what Angel went through. He didn’t like to admit any kinship to the vampire. But the compelling, almost overwhelming urges in him that were so at odds with the careful, intellectual life he had constructed, seemed to him to be a lot like Angel’s demon.

He’d been mostly successful in keeping that side of himself, the Ripper side, in check. He let go only in controlled circumstances, with chosen people. At least most of the time. One of the occasions he hadn’t chosen had happened with the vampire on the bed. It was when he’d had the vampire helpless and chained in his bathtub. Spike had smelled the need in him, and had pushed and provoked, prodded and teased, til Giles had taken him up to the playroom and let Ripper give Spike what he was craving.

It had lasted a little bit, til Giles recovered his equilibrium, had invited Olivia to stay, and had pawned the vampire off on Xander. Now here Spike was again. Helpless, needy, and utterly at Giles’ mercy. He couldn’t pawn him off on anyone. He’d taken responsibility for him, by buying him and bringing him here.

Another whimper from Spike brought him back to the present. He looked down at Spike, looked into those blue eyes. There was nothing of the cocky vampire he’d had chained to his bed in Sunnydale. There was nothing there but compliance, need, confusion… and something close to innocence.

Inertia held him motionless. The weight of all the years, all the rigid rules he’d used to hold himself in check. If he let himself do the things that he wanted, would his whole life be a lie?

William watched his new Master. He was terribly, terribly confused. He was here to please, but his new Master seemed to be almost in pain. And there was nothing William could do, or even say, gagged as he was.

Giles looked at Spike, and managed a little internal compromise. Just for now, he told himself. Give me a little breathing room. His hand moved to unsnap the cock ring, and stroked Spike’s swollen and by now almost painfully sensitive cock.

William howled into the gag, the sound muffled but still audible. He could take a lot of pain, and heal quickly. That much his training had taught him. But he could also keenly feel each bit of pain and pleasure.

Giles almost lost hold on himself at the howl. He took a deep breath and kept stroking, slow and steady. “Good boy. Let it out, boy. Cum when you’re ready.”

It didn’t take much longer for William to let go, howling again, bucking in the restraints, his poor tortured cock jerking as he came. Giles kept stroking, and then carefully let go after William slumped against the bed. He left, coming back with a warm wet cloth and cleaning Spike and the bed. He kept talking in the soothing voice. “Good boy. If I ungag you, can you keep quiet? “

William nodded. Giles unbuckled the thick gag and slid it out of Spike’s mouth. William wanted to thank his Master but kept silent, as he’d promised.

Giles stroked along Spike’s jaw. “You really don’t remember me?” He asked quietly.

William shook his head.

Giles sighed. “You can speak to answer my questions.”

William cleared his throat. “No, Master, I don’t. Should I?”

Giles nodded. “Yes, boy. We know each other, you and I.” He kept stroking. “Something must have happened to your memory. Tell me, what’s the first thing you remember?”

William thought. “It was cold. So very cold. I was naked and bleeding, lying in an alleyway. Master Jatto walked by, bandaged me, took me home with him.”

Giles furrowed his brow. “You don’t remember anything else? Not your human life, not your turning?”

William concentrated. He’d never given it much thought before. “No. Though I get the feeling I’ve been around a long time. I remember,” he stopped, and tried to think how to phrase it. “I remember history as though I’ve been a part of it. But I can’t put any names or faces to it, no experiences.”

Giles looked at William. Whatever had happened to him, he’d been profoundly altered by it. It must have been something earthshakingly terrible to swallow his entire life and unlife. “Can you be a good boy and stay quiet when I’m not in the room?”

William nodded vigorously. “Yes, Master. I’m good, I’m very obedient.”

Giles cringed at the ready and eager submissiveness of Spike, even as the Ripper side of him was eager to see how far it could be pushed. “Good. Then I’ll leave the gag out, for now. Are you hungry?”

William shook his head. “No, not right now. Master Jatto said I eat almost nothing for a vampire.”

Giles nodded, and cleared his throat. “I’ll go get blood for you later. Get some rest, boy.” He cupped Spike’s cheek and then turned and left the room, locking the door behind him with a click. Well it was certainly a puzzle. What had done this? And more important, how could he fix it? Did he even want to fix it? There was a deep atavistic desire to keep Spike just as he was—a compliant, eager, needy slave. Giles groaned as he headed back to his room to try and get some sleep.