Insurance Agents! by scymnus @ 01:42 am
Insurance Agents in Love, by scymnus
A Perfect Offering AU of an AU!
NC-21 Seriously, if you are under the age of 21, DO NOT pass go, do not collect $200. In other words, if you are underage, don’t read the fix! X-posted up the wazoo!
Xander didn’t know if he was double dog daring Spike to kill him, just to slow him down, murder-wise. And wasn’t that a pleasant thought? Not. No room for his Inner Buffy. He wondered what they would do when the serial killer bit wasn’t fun anymore, and didn’t make them hot. They could always sell insurance.
Summery/Warning: In Perfect Offering, there is a line in which Xander ponders what they’ll do when the serial killer “bit” stops getting them hot. The alternative is selling insurance. In Perfect Offering canon (hah! Didn’t know there was such a thing, didja?) Spike and Xander don’t stop being serial killers, cuz it’s fun. Role play, anal sex, cock and ball torture, evil, fangs, fisting, lactation, masochism, nipple torture, (flagging) yellow, water sports (piss play!) Despite my gross misuse of whelp, boy and the like, there are no minors in this fix (though the same can’t be said for Perfect Offering!) It’s a wee sleekit ficlit, I think. Um, what is the word limit for those? Heh! Dodging tomatoes.
Alexander Harris fled the amorous insurance agent on his tail. William Bradshaw refused to be denied his quarry, and chased the dark haired man to his office. He cornered him by the desk, and ripped open his shirt.
“Mr. Bradshaw, this is most irregular!” Mr. Harris said.
William Bradshaw mauled his bitch’s teats, which, thanks to a really cool spell were dribbling milk. They were pierced with silver rings, and little bells. He lapped at the milk.
“Moo!” Alexander said.
He gasped as the pale blonde agent shoved him face down over his own desk, scattering pencils, and paperclips.
Mr. Bradshaw yanked down the other man’s slacks. He took out his hard on, licked his palm, fisted his prick, and sank in balls deep.
“I always thought that you were a bit of alright, Mr. Harris.” Mr. Bradshaw said, thrusting. “You‘re so tight.”
He growled, gnawed at Mr. Harris‘ shoulder. It hurt, but it was good.
“Please Sir, I don’t want to do this.”
“Don’t you want your Christmas bonus?”
“I’ll settle for harder! Cookies.”
“Is that so, pet?” Mr. Bradshaw gnawed his nummy’s neck.
“Stay in character!” Xander hissed.
“Fine.” Nip. “I say, Mr. Harris, you’re a bit of alright.”
Spike started a sort of corkscrew motion.
“Are you doing the Angel?”
“Since when does the poof rate definite articles?”
“I meant the Angel maneuver. You know, the corkscrew thingy?”
“Hah! He learned it from me, baby.”
“No way. Mr. Bradshaw is totally ruthless, and wouldn’t call Mr. Harris baby.”
“Well, Mr. Harris is a shameless slut, who’ll do anything for me big fat cock.”
“Heh. Heh. Forgot. Where was I?”
“Harder. And something about cookies.”
“Please, Mr. Bradshaw, I need your cock as deep as it can go. You can’t hurt me.”
He fucked Xander until he came, then pulled out.
He fished a tube of slick out of his cheesy sport coat jack, and flipped it open. He lubed two fingers, and pushed them in the squirming brat. A bit of a twist, and he got his boy’s sweet spot.
“More.” Xander demanded.
“Sure thing, pet.”
More slick. Three fingers. A bit of a burn really, and wasn’t that surprising? They rarely used more than spit. Without consulting Xander, Spike slicked a fourth finger, and plunged in. The boy was grinding back against him. Neat. He shoved in the thumb. He made a fist, earlier than usual. Xander put his head down, and mewled. Pretty. Wrist. Grind. In no time at all it seemed, he was in up to the elbow. This insurance thing was working out great. He lazily fisted his nummy treat. He laughed.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“I was just thinking about poor Jacky boy.” He explained.
Spike had seduced Jack, fucked him, invited Xander to help with a little double penetration. After that, he’d slowly ridden him in the leather manager’s chair til he popped. Gave him video head cleaner, then fisted him. He’d carried him to the window, and dropped him out, ‘saying make a wish,’ to Xander.
An hour later, and he was done fisting Xan. He pulled out.
He glanced around for a sex toy. A marital aid. With a cheeky grin, he remembered something he’d spotted in his boy’s desk drawer. He snickered.
“Close your eyes, pet.”
Xander obeyed. It had been his experience that whenever Spike said that it was always something too cool or too horrible to ruin the surprise. Either was okay with him.
Spike pulled out, and walked around to the other side of the desk, hitching up his pants. Triumphantly he took out a massive cobalt blue dildo. It was slightly curved, and frankly huge. Whistling, he returned to his boy, and dropped trou. He shoved his cock back in, and snaked the dildo around to Xander’s lips, who laughed, and deep throated it.
Spike took it back, and pushed it into the boy, next to his cock. He pulled out the boy’s yellow handkerchief. He’d noticed it in the men’s room. He used it to gag his nummy, and pissed up in his belly.
“When ungh! When was the last time you pissed?”
Spike kissed his neck. “Last night.” He murmured in Xander’s ear.
“It’s 3:30 p.m.!”
“So, you could get some kind of infection. Something gross. Like when you got scabies that time.”
“When we got scabies, you mean.”
“I told you not to fuck Stoat, man.”
Stoat was a green haired punk who’d gotten caught on Spike’s (blunt human) teeth.
“Methinks you should follow your own advice.”
“Heh heh. Anyhow, scabies sharing is in our vows.”
“With these scabies I thee wed?”
“With my- harder! Fuck it! With my body, I thee worship.”
Five minutes later, Spike finished pissing. He stuffed an enormous butt plug up his boy’s pussy.
“After you’ve had a thorough douching, and probably retightening, I’m gonna fuck you, and fist you, and hurt you til dawn, bitch.”
“Promises promises.” Xander said.
He bent over cheekily, giving Spike a lovely view of his pretty pink hole. He shook his bum, then pulled up his trousers. He straightened, and turned towards Spike, who was on fire.
“Baby, you’re on fire!”
“Heh. You’re not so bad yourself.”
Xander grabbed him, and manhandled him over to the mirrored glass, which reflected Xander and the office, but no Spike. The vampire blinked.
“Oops! Guess the shanshu wore off, nummy!” Spike said, sheepishly, beating the flames off his sleeve.
“On that note, let’s head back home.”
“But it’s payday!” The unrepentant vamp whined.
“Come with me, and I’ll buy you something pretty.”
“Leave the plug in?”
“You know it!” Xander quipped.