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Xander's Slavedom	By : bulldogmo Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > Slash - Male/Male > Angel(us)/Xander > Angel(us)/Xander Views: 5978 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or AtS. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter One:
Angel looked at the invitation one more time as he sat in silence in the back of the limo currently speeding toward his destination. The windows were black so that even with his vamperic vision he couldn’t see out of them.
He felt them slow and then start to descend into a subterranean structure from the sound of the tires on the pavement. With this sound and the echo, he judged they may be in an underground garage of some sort. He stiffened instinctively, ready for anything, when the limo stopped and the door was opened for him by a human looking man. He immediately extended his senses and saw that he was a minion of the Uthaws Clan; vastly inferior to his own clan.
“Master Angelus, may we please see your invitation?” the minion had the nerve to ask.
Standing and sniffing, as if he smelled something foul, he handed over the invitation and, once scanned both mundanely and magically, it was handed back and he was escorted to the elevator.
The escort did not allow him to operate the buttons, but rather stood guard over them. Once they reached the designated floor the escort allowed him to exit the elevator and then went back to his post.
Once out of the elevator, he was at the entrance to the foyer. There he was scanned both magically and mundanely to make sure he had not brought weapons or other types of items harmful to a roomful beings that had different ways to die.
Once again he passed the scan; now just one more to go, the monetary scan. This one he was expecting and had made sure he had plenty of money in this one account before arriving. Walking up to the entranceway, he handed over the Irish Sterling Pound card to be scanned. Just from the look on the scanner’s face he knew that he had made the right impression. There were only 15, well now 16, of these cards in existence on the planet.
The computer beeped, confirming the entrance fee was paid, and confirming the amount in his account. The computer reported 1.2 billion pounds sterling in the account belonging to one Liam Angelus O’Roark.
Bowing at the waist, the scanner showed Angel into the room. He then walked him over to the refreshments and drinks, telling him the codes as so not to harm him. For example, the dishes that had white lights on them he had to stay away from because they had holy water in them. To some demons, holy water was like hot sauce on chicken wings for humans.
After picking up a glass of warmed bloodwine he wandered the room. He knew he would be the talk of the room because NO Master of the Clan Aurelius had ever been to one of these balls before and, as much as he hated tradition, this one he would have liked to keep.
He had to admit the opulence of the room was well done; not too over done, but just enough to let you know that money was here and power as well. It looked like any other business place of a powerful human, except for a few small details such as the paintings on the walls. The details were exquisite, down to the tiniest detail. It was the subject matter that left a lot to be desired; demons oozing pus, and the colors were done in such a way that the original demon found it pleasing to look at but anyone else was caused great pain to even glimpse it.
The furniture looked 18th century, and it was. But it was also created by demons for demons; lounge couches, with extra length for those with longer bodies and fewer bones, to demons with more than one set of arms or legs. The chandeliers were another example of demon’s touch; the spectrum of light given off by them was such that it was easy on the eyes for creatures of the Underworld, who mainly lived in dark places, and lived only in the night. All in all, this place may look like a human auction/ballroom event, but it screamed of powerful demons, and the humans were either pets, slaves, or entrees.
About a half an hour had gone by when he noticed a familiar face among the crowd, or thought he did. No, he thought, what would he be doing here? He’s practically human himself. Casually wandering over to that side of the room, he found that it was indeed who he thought it would be. Dressed to the nines in his Armani tux was none other than OZ.
He stood back and watched as he saw Oz speak more words to the lady in the red dress than Angel ever remembering seeing him speak the entire time he knew him. He also knew that the woman in red was not a woman, but rather, a succubus thinking she had trapped a foolish human here where he should not be.
Decision made, Angel walked up to Oz and tried to rescue him.
Tapping him on the shoulder like an old friend, Angel said, “Oz, old buddy, I didn’t think you would make it this year. Heard they have some fine humans you could buy and hunt when the moon is full.”
Oz turned to face Angel with a look of shock and anger on his face, like he was thinking ‘how dare you do this to me in front of her?’. But he was more shocked by what she said next.
“Oh, you’re one of them. I should have known they wouldn’t let a human into one of these events, let alone allow one to roam free.” With a twitch of her shoulders, her wings popped out from wherever she hid them, and she spread them and let out a sigh of relaxation. “OH, thank the Devil himself, you guys have no idea how much that pulls when they are scrunched up like that.”
But the men, being men, were watching what the movement was doing to her breast line, up and down and jiggles in all the right directions, and sorta had their minds off conversation for a few minutes.
"Aaahh, guys, hhhhoooo, guys! Eyes upward, my face is up here. Men, no matter the disease or the demon, they’re all the same.” With that she turned and walked off.
The two former Scoobies looked at each other and snickered. After all, what could they say or do? Motioning to a spot along the wall where they could talk, Angel headed over to it and waited for Oz to follow.
“Oz, not that it’s not good to see you, I mean it is and all, but how did you get in here? How could you afford to get in here? And how did you pass the money scan to afford to buy what they are selling? That is, if you know what they are selling. And how come you’re not up there being sold yourself?” Angel sputtered.
Laughing, Oz puts his hands up. “One at a time Angel. One at a time. First, it is good to see you too. This means I’m not alone here. I got a demand invite like you did, I’m sure. As for what is being sold here - - yes I know, slaves, human and non-human. As for the money end, lets just say I got tired of living out of my van, put my brain to work and did very well in certain fields of the Underworld. I’m accepted because I’m a werewolf and I don’t have to hide that fact any more. With the Scoobies it was a dark secret kept in the weapons cage. Out here I can be me, make money, and take 3 days off, with everyone knowing why and not have to worry about repercussions from my client base or otherwise. Hell, some of my clients have even offered me hunting privileges on their preserves when I am working at their homes. And the preserves are for the two legged kind.”
“You’ve hunted humans? Isn’t that sorta against your code or something?” Angel asked, shocked.
“Na, that was Willow’s and Buffy’s code. My wolf will hunt whatever it is in the mood for. Sometimes I will just hunt the humans for the exercise, other times for mating and, if I’m hungry, I might go for human, if I’m in the mood.”
“Mating? Don’t you mean rape?”
“Nope, for me it’s mating, male or female. When I’m in my wolf form I really don’t care what the other person thinks, I’m in it for me.”
“Whoa, you have changed a lot since the last I saw you. First you’re more talkative, more aggressive, and more in control and demanding.”
“That’s because I’m me. After that experience with Willow and Tara and spending time with those Army thugs, I decided no more nice guy. I use my wolf abilities to the max, and I keep it that way. Like right now, I know something is off here. I sense something familiar, but what or who I don’t know.”
Angel, vamping out, tried scensing with his senses and found that he agreed with Oz. Something was very familiar in the air, almost like a pong and after-smell coming from somewhere.
“I don’t know, but I think it is time we went and found our host to see why we were summoned and told to come this year of all the years.”
“Agreed,” Oz said.
After a few minutes both Oz and Angel spotted their host in the process of getting a drink at the bar. They slowly walked over to him as if it was a chance meeting while chatting with each other.
“How are we going to handle this?” Oz asked.
“Well, I’ll play the nice guy and you can play fido with a hunger for his hip bone.”
All that got him was a growl and a snarl from the once peaceful werewolf.
“Jeeze, it was just a joke. Let the wolf out just enough to show in your eyes and long teeth, just enough to let him know you mean business.”
Their host had seen them coming from halfway across the room and knew they were heading for him. Motioning to the bartender, he whispered, “Make sure we are not disturbed. I have some very important business to attend to for a few minutes. Tell Malk’ga to start the ball and, if I’m not free in 45 minutes, have him start the auction in the other room as well. Thanks.”
As Angel and Oz approached, he had to keep his laughter inside, as he heard them arguing how they were going to initiate this meeting.
When the two gentlemen arrived, their host was waiting for them.
“Good evening, Gentlemen. My name is Mr. Travers. That is not my real name but you would not be able to pronounce my real name, so I use that among the more language challenged species. OH, and forgive my appearance, I usually do not choose a human glamour, but I figured this once why not be different.”
“What exactly are you then?” asked Angel.
“I’m a Negthuare Demon. Sorta like your friend the Host but without the destiny singing gig - - and a better fashion sense.”
“What we would like to know is why you ’demanded’ that we be here,” growled Oz, letting out the wolf a little.
“Well you see it is quite simple. I sell slaves to buyers.”
“Yes, we know, that is why we usually don’t come here. We find that repulsive,” Angel said.
“Now, now, let me tell you some facts before you make a judgment that makes you both look very foolish. Yes, I sell slaves, but I sell willing slaves. These beings are selling themselves to individuals to be pets, personal servants or even lovers. These beings are doing this for protection, to get out of debt either for themselves or their clan or, for some, this is the type of life style they crave and need. I never sell an unwilling slave. That is what makes me like your Host. I talk with each slave that I sell and I can see inside them to tell if they are doing this of their own free will.”
“Then why are we here? If all your slaves are willing to be sold, then we have no reason to be here as we will not buy one,” Angel said confused. Oz also looked on in confusion at the demon.
“Tonight, I will not be selling a slave, but rather, his trainers will be. I have a contract with the school to sell their slaves because they only train willing slaves, and have done so for over 500 years. But this slave is different. He comes from a different background. He was broken before the school got a hold of him and he was trained and altered to be what he is today. I can’t change that, but I can refuse to sell him. I was informed that if I refused he would be sold at some of the lesser concerned auction houses where he could end up in a whore house. I couldn’t let that happen in good conscience.”
He waved away their incredulous looks. “Yes, I know, a demon concerned over a human slave. But if you looked into this slave’s mind like I can, you would scream in horror and travel into madness at what has been done to him. After all that has been done to him only three images remained, pictures if you will, of the men who he felt could protect him or help him.”
He paused for dramatic effect. “You two, and a third who I will not mention.”
Turning to look at each other, looks of confusion passed between them as they went over mutual acquaintances in their minds. Everyone they knew was either safe or dead.
“Come gentlemen, it is almost time for the auction to start and I have reserved seats for you both near the front so you can see who I am talking about. I’m afraid I have done all that I can, the rest is up to you. I beg you - - buy him. No one deserves to go through what he did just because of who he was.”
With that last cryptic remark he led them to the auction room.
Walking down near the front of the room, they heard the whispers and comments grow in volume and languages. Angel watched as Oz stood up straighter and straighter as he walked. By the time they reached their chairs, he was ramrod straight and he was having a hard time keeping the wolf from running rampant through the crowd of demons.
“Settle down Oz. The talk may have been about both of us, but that is because you’re with me. I am the first Master of the Aurilues Clan to ever come to a slave auction. If the clan needed someone to be a slave we would capture them and make them a slave our own way. To do whatever task we needed them to do. We would then discard them afterwards as a drained corpse, or they would be made into a minion.”
“I know that, but I’ve gotten to a point in my life where I despise beings talking about me behind my back. It would give me no greater pleasure than to find out who thought I was your playtoy and show them what a werewolf’s playtoy really is.”
“I know old friend, I know,” smirked Angel.
They looked up as a hush fell across the gallery as Travers walked up to the auction stand.
“Gentle beings, it’s time to begin our yearly Slave Auction. Please remember when buying your new slave that some of these species may need attention in order to survive. For example, you can’t take a Rakkadv near salt water or it’ll explode messily everywhere.
“Our first slave up for sale tonight is a Rahawk demon. Notice that it has a human appearance, except for the sides of the head where it has feathers. The eyes are a yellow brown color and her eyesight is 100 times better than a human’s. If you plan on breeding her, she can mate with a human and, of course, with another Rahawk. With another Rahawk you will get eggs, and with a human you will get a 50/50 chance at either a live birth or an egg birth.
“The reason her clan is selling her today is that she is a genetic inferior to their breeding plans. So instead of killing her or sterilizing her, they offered her a way out. Any money you spend on buying her will be placed in an account already set up for her by her clan for the day she is no longer needed or wanted as a slave.
“As stated in your invitations, all opening bids start at $500,000. So lets begin shall we?”
He took a deep breath and looked around the room before speaking again.
“I have $500,000… 600,000 to number 54… 700,000 to number 9 … 800,000 to telephone bid number 4…do I have a 900,000 …do I have 850,000…I do, number 54 …I have 900,000 from number 9…Do I have any more bids? Sold to number 9 for $900,000.” A loud crack sounded as he banged the hammer on the podium.
This went on for a couple of hours. There were many demons, as well as humans for sale. All were up for sale for various reasons; from debts, protections, etc.
Finally, Mr. Travers got an angry look on his face and everyone quieted down.
“Gentlebeings, I will not be handling the next auction. I find what has been done to this being to be both a disgrace and a dishonor when it comes to those of us that are slave traders and slave holders. But I am bound by contract to sell what they give me to sell. I’m therefore letting one of their own people do this while I get a drink and wash this taste out of my mouth. If anyone is willing to join me, it would be my pleasure to entertain you while this travesty is going on.”
A shocked silence fell upon the gallery as they watched their host stand up straight, pull his outer coat down to smooth any wrinkles, and descend the stairs in the middle of the room. He then walked up the middle isle, opened, and then slammed the outer door behind him.
The beings just sat there, stunned. Never in the long history of the auction had anything like this ever happened. Never had the house refused to sell a slave. They heard a throat clear and they turn to face the front again. There stood a man on the stage with a bodyguard. The man looked like he needed a bodyguard, just to make sure he wasn’t killed just for living. Even in a $3,000 suit he still looked like scum; his hair was greasy looking, his face covered in acne, his pallor made them all wonder if he had ever seen the sun and he gave off an aura that made you think you needed to take a bath or at least wash your hands from just being in the same room as him.
His guard, on the other hand, was the complete opposite and, standing at least 6” 5’, they figured he had to be part Troll to have all those muscles and still walk normally. His skin was ebony, marking him as at least part demon as that particular color was not natural among humans. Nor were the yellow green eyes.
When everyone had seen him and taken his worth, the talking began.
“Youuu, yes-s-s-s, now I s-s-s-see why Travers-s-s-s-s refussssed to sssseellll your productsss,” hissed a demon related to the pythons of South America.
Turning towards the others in the room, she continued, “Thissss creature breakssss hisssss sssstock’sss ssssoul, mind, and body. What is-s-s-s left over isssss not worth the minimum bid required. I will be joining Traversssss in that drink until this abomination is gone from our presssencessss,” she hissed as she slid-walked her way to the door.
This shocked more than a few demons; the Hissthyns, a gentle kind race, really never had a bad word about any other race or person, always giving the person or race the benefit of doubt. The reason they bought slaves was to help them tend to their nests and such. The afternoon heat and humidity made the Hissthyns too lethargic to be able to take proper care of them or to warn the others if they are attacked. That is why they buy other races to help protect their nest. They also sign a contract with the slave saying that, in a certain number of years, depending on the work they do, they will be set free with a certain amount of money to start a new life.
They were very sought after as Masters, as you can guess.
But to have been deliberately cruel was almost unheard of. Between the Hissthyn and Mr. Travers, that is what most needed to know and about 2/3 left the room. The remaining 1/3 were gossip mongers, Angel, Oz, and a few hard core slavers wanting to see what was so special about this one sale.
“Hello, my name is not important. As to why I’m here, let’s just say I have a piece of merchandise that has special meaning to those of the Underworld. This slave was taken by a group of humans who deal with training and breaking human slaves to be sold outside of this country for profit in countries where slavery is allowed. In fact, the government knows about these activities and for the sake of international peace they ignore the slaves when they see them in these countries. In some, they have standing orders to return runaways back to their owners if they make it to the consulates.
“When the slavers found out who they had, they contacted us to see if we were interested in him. Once we verified who he was and that, in fact, what we had planned on doing to him could be done, we bought him from the slavers giving them a modest profit, and us a unique opportunity to try our trade.”
Motioning off stage, he continued, “Without further ado, lets bring out the slave for you all to see.”
Walking out onto the stage was a fire red demon leading a leashed slave. The stage was dark enough that you couldn’t make out the features until the slave stood in the spot light. Both Angel and Oz grunted. This was the last person they had thought to see here. He was supposed to be dead. But there he stood.
Xander Lavelle Harris. Trained Slave. Sex Toy.
The auctioneer yelled, “Display!” at the slave, and Xander quickly tightened the muscles of his body, showing off his great physique. He had next to no body fat and his cock it started to fill with blood from the command. The size of it startled Angel, as he never realized how well built he was above or below the belt. Angel also noticed other things about Xander’s body.
First, he had both eyes; second, most if not all of his scars were gone, at least the physical ones, he was sure there was a bus load of new ones thanks to the slavers.
The auctioneer continued, “As you can see, he is in great shape and will get hard on command. And now, watch this little trick, Argtra.”
Xander groaned and his cock started to shoot cum all over his still locked body. By the time he was done quivering and gasping for air he was hard again, and he was back in display mode with all his muscles back into the ridged display mode.
“As you can see, he is very well trained. In fact, he can stay hard for days and never come unless you give him the magic word, or you can use it over and over again as a punishment. After two or three times he will be crying and, soon after that begging, and after that he will be unconscious. The next morning his balls will be so sore he can barely walk let alone serve you. And all you have to do is just say the word and he will be on the ground screaming as his well endowed cock starts shooting again. Nodding to the Red Demon, who then walked over to the slave. You could see the slave sorta shrink in on himself., as if he knew what was coming and feared it. The demon’s hand shot out and grabbed the ball sack of the human, pulling it down, gave it a viscous twist, causing most of the males in the audience to wince, but not once did the slave move or give any outward sign of pain, except a small grunt.
“As you can very well see, this slave has been train to take a high level of pain, and remain in what ever position you put him in.”
“Though if you plan on breeding him, I wouldn’t do that too often. It might make him sterile,” snickered the slimy man.
“Now, I assume this will go as the other bids did, so lets start this off at 500,000… who will give me 500,000…?”
The anger boiling in Angel’s chest was with out equal. He didn’t know where it came from, but all he knew was that Xander up there was his, and he was taking him home.
Standing up to be recognized, in a loud clear voice he stated, “The House of Aurelius will bid $1 for the return of its property.” There was a stillness over the gallery. They had all known that a Master of the Aurelius House was here, but not THE Master.
“Surely you jest SIR. One dollar for this slave? You must know who he is then if, as you say, he is your property,” laughed the greasy git at the stand.
“I repeat, the House of Aurelius bids $1 for the slave. Since there has been no counter offer, you must accept the bid as it stands or forfeit the slave and the right to ever sell another slave,” sneered Angel.
“Will anyone please offer a bid of more than $1 for this slave, so that we can get this travesty of injustice over with…? Yes you, I see you starting to raise your paddle. Will you bid more…?” the auctioneer said, as he started to sweat. This was not going as planned. The plan was to sell the slayer’s pet, let HER know he was alive and a slave to some demon, and let her guilt herself into a mistake. Now the House of Aurelius, who was aligned with the Slayers, was buying the boy, for far less then the proper bids.
When the auctioneer said someone was going to make a bid, Oz jumped up and both his and Angel’s head snapped to the right at the person who was going to bid. Both let their inner beast and demon out to play a bit. After that no-one counter bid against them.
While that was going on, the slimy auctioneer made a quick call to his bosses and had a short chat with them. After a few minutes he hung up and looked smug.
“Well, House of Aurelius, you lose after all. We will not be selling this property after all, nor will we sell him at any auction you or a representative of yours will be at.” With a nod he gathered up his small entourage and started to leave. Angel could see the tears falling down Xander’s face, but not a sound escaped him; he had been trained too well for that.
Looking at Oz, who nodded his head, they both changed and charged the stage; Oz in a hybrid form of his wolf/man form and Angel in full Angelus mode. Angel stopped in front of the group with Oz at the back of the group. Both demons looked scared and knew that they were outclassed.
“What do you want? You can’t steal our property. It’s against the rules of the House,” the smarmy little bastard said with a smirk.
“It is also against the rules to take back an item once you offered it to be bid on,” Mr. Travers said, stepping out of the shadows. “The slave belongs to Mr. Liam O’Roark for the price of $1 or you three will not leave here either as free men or live men.”
“Huh?” asked one of the guards.
“Stupid, he means we will be sold as slaves or given to the wolf and vampire as snacks,” snarked Slimy.
“So,gentlemen, what is it going to be? Sell the slave, or face the penalties?” Mr. Travers asked with a shark like smile.
Gulping, Mr. Slimy threw the leash at Angel. “Here is your slave. Now where is my dollar?”
Angel reached his pocket and pulled out a roll of money. Searching, he finally found a dollar and handed it to the man.
“Good, now we can complete the transaction and be on our way. Slave, stand by your new Master.”
Xander timidly walked over to stand next to Angel.
“Slave, you know what to do to complete the transaction so do it, so that we may go home.”
“Master, I am sorry for the pain I’m about to cause you,” Xander said, pleading. Swiftly he grabbed Angel’s hand and bit down hard on his thumb, hard enough to draw blood, and started sucking.
“OW!!” yelled Angel as he tried to pull away. Then he noticed that both he and his new slave were glowing green and he stopped struggling and he watched as Xander sucked another mouthful of his blood down. After a third mouthful, Xander stopped and licked the wound. Staring at his Master, he closed his eyes and started to sway.
Xander could feel the changes already taking effect. His body was changing once again to match another’s, but this time it would be the last. If it happened again it would be fatal. He felt himself lose control and he fell into darkness.
Angel saw the signs of Xander falling into unconsciousness and caught him, lowering him gently to the floor.
“What the hell is going on here?” he demanded to know.
Oz let out a low growl and stepped forward with his claws ready to do damage.
“You don’t know about us do you? We specialize in lifetime slaves; slaves who can’t ever leave their Masters because they need their Masters to survive, literally. The blood the slave took into himself is combining with the chemicals already there and is changing his body. From now on, he will either need blood or sex at least once a day to survive, preferably both. As for the sex part, I should tell you this; he is mentally and physically programmed to no longer respond to vanilla sex. Kinky, public, S&M, B&D, that kind of stuff, yes, but straight fucking? No. And he will need sex at least once a week as his body has been altered so that chemicals necessary for his body to operate won’t be released without the release that sex gives. His cum, and not from the magic word, and the others’ allow the chemicals to flow for another week. In this case, any dick in the storm will do; demon, human, hell he has been trained to put on a show with certain animals for your entertainment value. Got the idea off the Internet, some real sickos out there, but with the right prep and training you can train a slave to take any type of dick.”
By the time he was done, even Angel looked sick. Angelus had never done some of these things. “How long will the Slave be out?”
“I’d say 48 hours. Oh don’t worry, he can’t bond with anyone else. The next attempt at bonding will kill the bonder and leave the slave alone.”
The slimy demon snapped his fingers, and the red demon wandered off and brought back six heavy boxes of books, tapes, and videos.
“These books are about what was done magically, physically and mentally to him so if you need to do magic around him you can see what would interfere. The two red books are manuals for the commands he has programmed into him, and will instruct you how to program more for your own life style. The tapes are for your review and are from the human training camp. The videos are dated from both training camps, so you can see what he has learned to do and you can see if you want to try anything we have taught him.
“Now, good night, I have to face the music with my bosses,” he said as he slipped away.
As they all watched him go, Angel turned and punched a pillar, cracking it from base to top, while Oz just sat back and howled a sorrowful sound that raised all the hairs on those that had hair.
“Gentlemen, please calm down. You will make the others leave and I need them to help you and your friend here.”
“What do you mean, Travers?”
“I know this place will not let this insult go unpunished. If enough of us slave holders get together and force them to behave, then you will be safe for a time. And time you will need, even if it is in short supply. You have to get him on his feet the best you can. The little bastard was right; he is your slave for life. As long as you remain alive so does he, but what he forgot to mention was it worked both ways. If the slave should die, so can the master, though the risks are lesser.
“Now come, I will escort you to your limos and see you home,” he said.
Snapping HIS fingers, a few of his men appeared, putting away their guns. After a few instructions, some rushed forward to grab the boxes. Some tried to grab Xander, but Angel growled, leaped forward and grabbed Xander himself.
Oz had changed back to his human form and had brushed the loose hair off his stretched tux. “Boy is Manny going to be pissed when he sees what is left of my tux”, he mumbled.
“Oz, thanks… I don’t think I could have pulled this off without you as back up. If you ever need help, here is my card. Call me and I am so there. Can you come back to the hotel for a few days or do you need to get back to some clients right away?”
“No, to the clients. I’m currently in between contracts. And, yes I‘ll come by the hotel. You’re going to need help with Xander when the others find out, especially when Cordy breaks the news to Sunnydale. You know they are going to come with an army, right?”
“Ya, that’s is why I need all the help I can get. That is why I’m calling Giles as soon as I get back and have him come down as soon as possible. Between Giles, Wes, you and me we should be able to handle the two main ones.”
‘Okay, then I’ll see you sometime tomorrow,” Oz said as he got into his limo and pulled away to go back to his place.
Angel placed his burden in the back of the limo with him. Looking down at Xander, he couldn’t help but wonder what had Xander drug him into this time.
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Xander's Slavedom