I last had this done to me when I was seven and I lasted fifteen minutes before I burst into tears. Was fairly confident tears wouldn’t work as an escape route today, even if that was part of my arsenal these days. Which it wasn’t.
He’d made me keep my eyes open. As he was sitting way over on the couch with his back turned – not even bloody watching me – I could have disobeyed that order and let daydreams of having him at my mercy entertain me, but this was Giles. He’d know. Or he wouldn’t, but he’d ask me after if I’d closed them and he’d know if I was lying because, that? He can do that. Every. Sodding. Time.
So my eyes were open and I was looking at the wall. Pale cream coloured paint. Few cracks here and there. If I rolled my eyes – being careful not to sigh heavily as that might have counted as making a noise – I could just about see the edge of a –
“Your head’s moving, Spike.”
Mild voice. Hate that one. Cream wall. Right.
Physically, this wasn’t a problem. I could stand still for hours. Predator, wasn’t I? Part of the package. Except...wanted to scratch in so many places I’d have needed a dozen hands to get them all. Tried to get the one on my knee by just leaning forward slightly so it touched the wall –
“Quite still, please.”
I’d have begged him but that was out too...
“Not a word while you’re there, Spike or I’ll punish you.”
Smile of evil. “I’ll make you wear one of Xander’s shirts for the day. In public.”
I swallowed and fought back like a valiant vampire should. “Like Harris would agree to that!”
Giles let his eyes drift to a small package on the table. Just about the right size for a shirt that made a rainbow look tasteful.
“It’d be implying he had crap taste in clothes! An insult! He wouldn’t have –”
Giles looked at me. “I think he stopped listening after I said I needed his help to humiliate you in an ingenious way.”
I wasn’t even naked. Not that he was looking, but I couldn’t even try to entice him with a view of my bare arse. He’d told me once it was ‘eminently bitable’ and then done just that to it, teeth sinking into it until I howled and came, because at the time he’d had three fingers up me and the other hand on my cock. Today though, he’d just grabbed me by the neck, marched me over and positioned me within minutes of walking in the door.
The wall needed painting. I could see faint marks on it. Oh, yes. Giles had made those a few weeks ago with his fingernails, scoring the plaster in crescent shaped grooves...He’d been standing, hands braced against this very spot as I sucked him off on my knees, heels against the wall. Then I’d ducked between his spread legs and got my tongue inside him before he had time to ask me what the hell I was playing at. I glanced down just a little at the streaks of lighter paint. He’d made me clean it up of course. Said if I’d stayed where I was told, there wouldn’t have been come all over the wall and so ... Didn’t do anything else to me though. Giles isn’t one to punish initiative. Just people who arrange Just people who arrange deliveries of personal items to the shop on a day when Anya opened the mail, and I thought he'd like a new pair of – never mind.
It was so quiet. Giles sipping his drink, the rustle of a turned page. The scritching of nail on skin – oh, that was too much! He knew I was dying to scratch and – then he shifted position and I caught his scent on the air and I smiled. He might not be watching, he might not be pleased – but he wanted me.
The rest of the hour went by a lot faster once I knew I was going to get fucked at the end of it.
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