Good Girl, Spike

BY : SpikesEvilbint
Category: BtVS AU/AR > General
Dragon prints: 2050
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Good Girl, Spike

Spike groaned, put his hand in the small of his back and arched it to ease the ache. He was so uncomfortable. Thank God that the surgery was scheduled for tomorrow. About bloody time. They’d promised him a break after this one. He hoped that they kept their word. He had heard it all before. But if he had to go through it all again, he swore that he’d surely dust.

Spike walked awkwardly to an easy chair, pulling along the wheeled stand that held several bags of fluids that were connected to lines going into his abdomen, and collapsed in to it with a sigh. He put his feet up on the foot stool, scowling at how swollen his ankles were. Yes, he’d be sodding glad to be done with it. He grunted as a sharp pain hit his abdomen.

“You can stop that anytime you like,” he said wearily, laying a hand on his stomach. This was too much. He shifted slightly in the chair trying, without success, to get more comfortable. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough. He was hungry but knew that he wouldn’t be offered any dinner tonight, he needed an empty stomach for the operation. Another reason to be glad that it would be over, at least until the next time.

Spike closed his eyes. How many would this be? Christ, seven! Was it really seven times that he’d gone through this? No wonder that he was sick of the pain, sick of the operations. Sick of being here. He opened his eyes again and glared around the room. It was a very nice room, had everything that a vampire might need and a few nice extras like all those back episodes of Passions on DVD. But it was still a prison. A room with a little walled garden that was shaded all day was still a prison, right? The scary thing was that now, he knew that no matter what he said, no matter how much he complained, he wouldn’t try to get out of here, even if he could. He wouldn’t last two minutes as a free vampire and he knew it. Spike’s dreams were alternatively of the time before he had been captured and of escaping and ending up staked or killed by another vampire for being weakened by his experiences. But most of the time to his shame, he just didn’t think about anything more than living here. It wasn’t so bad really.

He hadn’t realised that he had fallen asleep on the chair until a hand gently shook him awake.

“Spike. It’s time.”

“What? Huh?” He rubbed his eyes. “Oh, right.”

He allowed the nurse to help him up and in to the wheelchair. He was grateful of it. Never thought that he’d be thinking that, but the O.R. was quite a walk and he wasn’t sure that he would make it. He smiled at the nurse. She was a pretty little thing. All blonde and perky. Reminded him of the Slayer. He would have flirted with her back in the day. No point now though – best not to think about that.

He was wheeled in to the pre-op room and transferred to a bed. Lying flat was even more uncomfortable than sitting was. It was a good job that he didn’t need to breathe as he felt the pressure seemingly localise in his chest. He stared up at he surgeon as he approached.

“Hello, Spike. How are you feeling?”

Spike glowered. “How do you think I’m feeling? Just get on with it, yeah?” he gasped.

The surgeon chuckled and looked at Spike’s stomach. He had never seen Spike quite so swollen before surgery. He’d have to recommend that it wasn’t allowed to happen again. He wasn’t the best candidate for that, with his frame being so slight.

“We’ll just get you prepped and then take you through.”

“I’ll get knocked out, won’t I?” said Spike quietly, he hated it when they just used local anaesthetic.

“Sorry, Spike. Too risky with this one. But you won’t feel a thing, I promise.”

Spike closed his eyes and swallowed hard. But I’ll hear it, won’t I? I’ll see.

The surgeon patted Spike’s arm soothingly. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Spike nodded but didn’t open his eyes. He flinched as he felt cold liquid being rubbed over his torso. He opened his eyes and looked down. Funny to think that he hadn’t seen his feet in months, yet by the time he came out of here, he would be able to. He ran his hands over his grotesquely swollen stomach. Fingers tracing the raised knotted scar that ran from his navel down to his groin. Six times he’d been cut in the same place. Today would be seven. No wonder that even his vampiric healing couldn’t make it invisible.

“Hey, I’ve just swabbed that!” protested a nurse, slapping Spike’s hands. “Now I’ll have to do it again.”

Spike simply closed his eyes once more. No regrets about pointless flirting with this one. She looked more like a man than he did. A hysterical giggle escaped Spike’s lips. Not that that was so difficult these days. The nurse looked at him sharply. He felt the sting of a needle in his vein, and things got pleasantly fuzzy. She’d given him a sedative. The nurse knew Spike so well, and knew that he often got very emotional before and just after the operations. She wrote on his notes for him to be sedated for the next week. The poor thing got so depressed if he didn’t get a bit of help.

“We’re taking you through now, honey,” she said after swabbing the area once again. She gently strapped his hand to the table. Spike didn’t even notice.

Once in the O.R. Spike was given the local anaesthetic and the surgeon picked up the scalpel blade. “Let me know if you can feel any pain at any point.” He didn’t want Spike to suffer.

Spike just nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. He shouldn’t feel emotional. He’d been told that there was no way that he should feel anything other than detached but it wasn’t true.

The surgeon paused for a second before he began the procedure. He’d done all the preparatory surgery on Spike. And though he said it himself, it had gone remarkably well. The smoothness of Spike’s groin belied the fact that he had ever sported testicles and a penis. Although not totally necessary for the procedure to be viable, he had found it rather upsetting to see male genitalia every time that he worked on them. It also helped the vampires settle in to their roles more readily. He glanced at Spike’s face, the vampire’s eyes still tightly closed; Spike had been quite the trouble-maker before he had removed them. The surgeon cringed at the memory of Spike’s first time. He’d railed against everything. Yes, taking those troublesome hormones away had been a boon to both surgeon and vampire. He was sure that Spike was happier now. Taking the penis too, just made things look neater. It was unnecessary after all.

The surgeon turned his attention back to the job in hand. He deftly cut through the skin along the site of the scar, and through the underlying layer of muscle. He wondered if it was possible to develop some form of zipper to be inserted. It would be quicker than having to cut them open and sew them up every time. He made a mental note to ask the development team. The edges of the wound were held apart by retractors; he smiled as he saw the surface of the thing that he’d implanted in to Spike years ago. Who would have known that it would have lasted so well?

He gently cut an incision in it and reached through with his hands. This was what made it all worthwhile. A beautiful healthy baby ready to be given to its parents. Vampire surrogacy had enabled thousands of childless couples to have a child of their own. When the first research had been done, it had come as a surprise that it had been the synthetic womb implanted in the males that had been successful – the females’ bodies always rejected it.

He passed the child, to a nurse. She wiped it clean and the team all laughed as it began to cry lustily. “It’s a girl,” she announced. The only thing that they didn’t manipulate was the sex of the children.

Spike tried to bring his hands up to his ears to try to block out the cries of the child that had been carried in his body for nine months, a sob escaped his lips as he found they were restrained. He hated being awake for it.

He felt a hand brush gently across his brow. He opened his eyes. The pretty nurse was looking down at him sympathetically. “She’s perfect, Spike, well done.” Spike stared at the tiny bundle in her arms. He knew that it wasn’t his. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t part of him in any way – so why did he always feel like it was? He wanted to hold her, to keep her. To see her grow up. His bleak thoughts were interrupted when more wails rent the air. Spike’s eyes widened. This was why he had gotten so big, felt so sore. They had never told him that it was twins. He hadn’t detected two heartbeats either. They must have beat in synchronicity with each other.

“A boy. Oh Wesley and Winifred will be so pleased. They had so hoped for one of each,” one of the nurses said. She walked towards the window of the observation room where the proud parents were hugging each other and crying. She then carried him back to Spike. He couldn’t see the observation window and had never met the couple whose children he had carried. “Don’t you want to see him?” asked the nurse as Spike turned his head away. No! He didn’t want to see what he would never look upon again. But he couldn’t stop himself from looking. From gazing at the crumpled up little face, and the tiny hand escaping from the blanket he was wrapped in.

Oh, Christ!

It was right that he felt this pain. It was making amends for all the children that he had taken from their parents. He hadn’t thought anything of his preference for veal until he had been captured. It was only right, but God, it felt like his unbeating heart was ripped out each time.

Spike’s eyes suddenly rolled back in his head and he passed out.

“Crap! We’ve got a problem!” yelled the surgeon.

As he had predicted, the artificial womb in Spike had been stretched beyond repair by carrying the twins. He had tried to stop Spike from being used for the Wyndham-Price’s. A bigger vampire would have been a lesser risk, but they had fallen for the pretty features of Spike and wouldn’t be deflected from using him.

The surgeon cursed as he was forced to remove the womb. He couldn’t let this happen again. If he had known that they had ordered twins then he would have removed Spike’s photograph from the database, along with several other of the more slightly built surrogates. The way Spike’s body had been stressed this time made replacement impossible. He was finished as a surrogate.

He heard the door to the O.R. swing open.

“Looks like this is one for me to take off your hands,” a cold voice said.

The surgeon looked up. It was the head of the other division. He glanced at Spike regretfully. He hated to lose one to that section. Especially when he knew that it would be worse for Spike because of his preference of removing the genitalia. Perhaps he should just try to get used to the sight of taking a child out of a body that had male organs? Reluctantly, he stepped away from Spike. The nurses had already removed the tubes that went into the womb to feed the babies. At least, Spike would no longer be attached to drips for nine months at a time.

“He’s all yours, Ethan.” Andrew Wells glanced once at Spike’s face before walking out of the O.R.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” said Ethan with a grin. “Oh, better get mummy and daddy out of that observation room first.”

The team of nurses that had assisted in the delivery were replaced by Ethan’s usual team. Soon the room was a hive of activity. Drills whirred, as bone was cut away. Spike’s abdomen was closed once the new implant had been accurately fitted. Ethan cut away the ugly scar tissue before using fine sutures to join the skin together. No one liked to see scars like that.

Ethan had been delighted to get his hands on Spike. He had advised the Wyndham-Price’s not to declare their intent to have twins. He had hoped that they would opt for Spike. He was certainly one of the most attractive that they had. He smiled. If everything took, Spike would make him a fortune, he was sure of it. When the procedures were all complete Spike was taken to an intensive care ward. With instructions to be kept under complete sedation for the week it would take for everything to heal and for the stitches to be removed. No need for Spike to be unnecessarily upset when everything looked sore and inflamed. It was much easier on them when they were in no pain when they first saw themselves.


A week to the day and Ethan was sitting next to Spike’s bed, waiting for him to wake up. The vampire stirred and moaned softly, before his eyes fluttered open.

“Welcome back,” said Ethan.

Spike turned his head to look at the man. He hadn’t seen him before. “What…what happened?” His voice was soft and weak.

“I’m afraid carrying the twins was too much for you,” replied Ethan. God, he loved this part.

The twins. Spike closed his eyes as the pain of their loss hit him hard.

“Don’t worry – you won’t have to go through that again,” said Ethan. “At least you got your figure back!” He pulled back the sheet covering Spike.

Spike glanced at his body. He remembered thinking that he would be able to see his feet again and he could. Well, he could if he lifted his head a little to see over his chest. Not, chest – breasts! He lifted his hands to touch them. He turned back to Ethan.

“What have you done?” He noticed that his voice was several octaves higher. Oh, Christ – what now?

Ethan smiled. “You really were more pretty than handsome, don’t you think? And then Andrew got all squeamish about looking at genitals all day and whipped them off – sealed your fate that did. What did you think would happen when the womb wore out? We’d just let you retire?” He laughed.

“I…I don’t understand?”

“God, I didn’t realise that you were so dumb. Mind you I suppose that goes with the peroxide blonde bit. It really does emphasise your blue eyes and now that there are no more babies for you, we can used it on you again.”

Spike ran his hand over his throat. His hand stilled as he failed to feel his prominent Adam’s apple.

“Yes, that had to go. Was about the only manly part of you left,” laughed Ethan cruelly. “Shall I list the other things?” Without waiting for Spike to reply he continued. “Where shall I begin? At the top, perhaps? Magics have been used to make your hair grow from that horrid short crop that Andrew insisted upon. It’s now shoulder length and quite beautiful. Never realised that it would be so wavy.” Spike reached up and touched it, noticing his manicured pale pink painted nails as he did so. He glared at Ethan. “Adam’s apple I’ve mentioned. The voice has been altered to be more feminine. The breasts – ah, the breasts. You’ll be pleased that I resisted giving you enormous ones. They would have looked quite ridiculous on one so slender. So you have a nice pert pair of C cup size. Not that you’ll need a bra – those babies are never going to sag!”

Spike felt sick.

“I got rid of that ugly scar and gave you a little tummy tuck because you had lost a little tone with all the babies. You’ll be pleased to know that you now have genitals again.”

Spike looked sharply at his groin. All that he could see was short sandy hair trimmed in the shape of a heart. He let his head flop back on the pillow. He could guess the next part.

Ethan chuckled. “It’s pretty ironic that you can no longer have babies but have a fully working vagina. I even made a clitoris so you should be able to experience orgasms should the client be generous enough to stimulate it.”

“Clients?” Spike whispered.

“Oh, yes. Clients and plenty of them. I’m sure you’ll prove very popular. Despite my best efforts a lot do still look fairly male. But don’t worry, by the time you’re ready for your first client, you’ll be so full of female hormones that you’ll be begging for it. You’re even a virgin. I’m having quite the auction to see who gets to deflower you! You’ll be called Sonia when I get you to your quarters.”

Spike shuddered.

“Don’t worry; you’ll make a good girl, Spike.”

The End

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