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Author's Chapter Notes:
I just want to make a distinction, this IS a Spike fic, there is no way a fic trying to be about the man who carries Spike's face. This is 100% Spike.
There is a million mentions of Spike/Other because he's basically a nymphomaniac. This story was prompted by a cbox discussion about some youtube videos where JM is discussing fanfic at a convention and Joss' angry diatribe over actors getting all the women. It was also partially inspired by Serenity's Forward in Reverse and Sotia's manips. There's also mention of Sarah Aless's Little Miss Tightly Wound.
Thank you dampersnspoons for the wonderful betaing AGAIN admist all your upmeduffdates and thank Shadow for providing me with a title.
This one is dedicated to Monica for persistantly asking me about it.
Hope you enjoy, and leave many reviews.
Self Promotion

Part One
Spike Pratt was a suave piece of work. With legs so long and luscious, girls just wanted to lick them. And many did.

First thing his agent said to him when landing this gig was, “Watch out for the women.” Warren was a pervert but a pervert excellent at his job. Weasels had a staunch hold on Hollywood and that worked out just fine for Spike.

Spike was almost bashful when he landed the part on “Exist”, TV’s hottest and only cult sci-fi that dealt in intelligence which normally caused problems for Spike at conventions. Nevertheless, the women loved him.

Exist’s creator, Andrew Wells, was a top class nerd, grumpily reintroducing himself to Spike on the first day of shooting for the current episode with the words, “You actors, with your pretty faces and your beautiful hair. You get all the women and we writers get nothing.” Spike was so shocked at this little blonde guy that he took a step back and tried to rationalise.

Spike was promptly told, “Yeah, but you are going to get laid all your life off this role.”
And boy did Spike take up on that assertion.

Spike had refrained from sleeping with his female co-stars; professionalism and all that rot, though that didn’t stop him from buggaring the men stupid. He rarely went a day without sex, didn’t matter what sex as long as he could thrust somewhere. He royally shagged Rupes or Liam whenever the opportunity presented itself, which was normally in the trailers during breaks. He coaxed Wes and Dan slowly with the incentive of a woman rather than the one-on-one, rough, up against the wall style of sex with his other actor colleagues but eventually he got all of their pants off. Didn’t stop him from having a girl in his bed every night. And it all started with his personal assistant.

When the chit told him he was beneath her, Spike hired Cecily on the spot. He then proceeded to fuck her rotten, sideways, upside down, behind, and his personal favourite full of irony: immobile. He chained the dangerous brunette to his bed and demonstrated just how beneath him she really was. And then she never took any of his shit again.

He had gotten famous beyond repair, appearing in endless gossip rags about the dispensable women and his contraction of Chlamydia. That was the worst month of his life, even worse than the morning two years previous.

The fateful Saturday morning, two years into working on Exist, his life changed. He met Drusilla. He’d gazed at the girl from back home who was working PR media into hypes, and fell for her trance-inducing eyes. Spike eased off sleeping with other women, servicing his dangerous princess and occasionally getting the helpful hand of Liam to conclude the night’s tryst.
But the bitch left him at the aisle. He was standing there waiting for Drusilla while she diddled a fucking choirboy before riding off in a taxi.
So he fucked her bridesmaids.

And now, he was at the catalyst for what would become the best decision of his entire life. If he’d been smarter, he’d have listened to the message Andrew was trying to communicate on Exist. Spike’s life became a mix of stage time, pub time and fuck time. And he was like an automaton, every day walking between the three, and starting to feel not a damn thing.

The stupidest women on earth had gotten clingy but for all the wrong reasons. Harmony Kendall told herself and Spike that she loved her ‘Blondie Bear’ and she’d do everything she could to help him get up. For the first time in his life he’d had trouble getting an erection. He blamed the blonde bint. Cecily blamed him for using his dick like it wasn’t expendable. Little did he realise that he’d worn himself into a hole in the ground. He was practically living a deviant’s schedule that had exhausted his body into a state of nothingness. He was even worse off than the vampire character he played on the existential show.

The catalyst was the reason Harmony finally left him. Spike told the blonde imbecile he loved syphilis more than her. She reminded him that he had had Chlamydia and then said she couldn’t deal with the bad sex and the lack of motor functions anymore. So she steamed off and he turned to his fans for a little pick me up.

When he first started up the computer, he intended to go looking for good old fashion internet porn. Hot chicks fucking other hot chicks. What he got instead was something that crinkled at the cockles of his dried up heart. That was if it wasn’t non-existent.

Googlebater wasn’t a term he was familiar with but he was seeking something to make him feel better that wasn’t alcohol (he’d get that once he got off the net. His stock was low in his penthouse apartment). He typed in his name and brought up endless pages of fan sites. He smirked. Didn’t matter what the stupid chit said, he was loved. After getting that ego boost, he decided to head back to his original plan of the hot lesbian porn, forgetting to clear Spike Pratt from the search box.

Instantly, all those fan sites turned to endless databases and archives of stories, some featuring his character, Jack, and the two female leads, Anne and Faith, making with the hot threesome sex. For the first time in the month he’d been seeing Harmony, his cock shot up.

“Jesus.” The almost self voyeurism he’d stumbled upon had made him harder than he’d ever been in his 36 years of living. And he smiled broadly at the screen at the sheer kinkiness.

Thousands of members and double the amount of stories were there for him to peruse, all written with the image of him in their delicious little minds. He clicked on one author’s name, then another and then another. Spike was almost bright red with the pressure built up from his lower back to the top of his tense thighs, his pelvis practically humming with literal sexual tension. Every writer he clicked upon was a woman. And that was the icing on the cake.

Spike’s imagination went haywire; his thoughts drifting from one delicious image to the next as he casually stroked himself. God, he was stiff, but he couldn’t do anything about it. His hand rested on the tip of his throbbing appendage. Spike was frozen in ecstatic pain. If he moved an inch he’d come all over the computer screen and that’d be one explanation he didn’t want to make to the computer techs.

Spike imagined the women all across the world working to rhythms he dared to live up to. Their hands greedily rubbing and pumping all over their luscious bodies; their long legs strewn in front of their computers, one delicate ankle resting upon the monitor while their toned thigh screamed with tension. They lifted their other leg to reach around the big black monitor and rest beside the right speaker, their eyes furiously scanning the bright screens. As one, the thousands of women would remove their fingers from their snatch and bring them up to their beautiful lips, sucking themselves off. Their hips would begin the rise and fall along the ridged spine of the desk chair they straddled, coming and coming with his face on their minds.

Spike began to breathe normally as he came down from the happy blaze his brain had tumbled into. His hand was sticky. Looking at the screen, he smirked. The words described Faith bringing Anne to an almighty orgasm as Jack spanked Anne and chastised both of the women. His dick hadn’t moved and he was still more erect than he’d been in years.

From that day, Spike was addicted to Janne fan fiction (though he detested that something as sexy as his character getting with Mary Jane Gellert was called something that sounded like one of his aunts). Spike woke early in the mornings so he could read the latest update while bringing himself off before running into work.

His didn’t sleep much, reading into the early hours of the morning and even buying a laptop so he could read the updates at work. He didn’t know who cleaned his trailer, but he was glad there was a new box of tissues in there every couple of days and the trash wasn’t commented on.

Three months after the first night, Spike finally (while smirking) created an account on Janney Realm. He had some world class internet based acting to do. For the first time in his acting career, the reviews would be welcomed.

*************************************

Buffy arched her back, resting her hands on her hips and slowly circling her thumbs into the tender muscles. She looked at the tiny time in the bottom of the right hand corner of the screen and gasped. She’d been on the computer for eight hours straight.

Buffy Summers was a single mum, her twins Tara and Amy safely tucked in their beds as she shifted through the endless membership requests and new stories on her website, Janney Realm. She really loved Exist, allowing her reason to get through her traumatic years after her mother died and the conception and pregnancy of the twins. Now Jack and Anne had finally got together on the show and their understanding of existential existence came to fruition, all the Janne shipper’s stories were totally vindicated. Buffy was ecstatic. She loved Spike Pratt in the only way you can love a celebrity: undying adoration coupled with ignorance to their [m]any flaws.

Buffy had managed to watch Exist from the first time it aired and was instantly addicted to the ideas and the sexy lead man. And when she could barely hold on to her own life, Exist became something to look forward to each week. Her fellow shippers began the Janne fan fiction and bam! Buffy had a place to exist. And it was the only place she could fictionalise multiple orgasms with authenticity.

Buffy saw the long list of new members and stories she had yet to get through and decided that an extra hour couldn’t hurt. The newest member name caught her eye: Icame4Spike. She clicked through to their profile page and noticed no real name and an empty bio. Her automatic email to confirm their membership would have been sent but she was feeling particularly perky after just watching a Youtube vid on Spike Pratt so she sent through a message.

To: Icame4Spike@hotmail.com
From: Im_a_Pratt@gmail.com
Hi there Icame4Spike, I’m Buffy and I run Janney Realm. Just wanted to say welcome (which I probably said in the automatic email) but I was just interested in your name. Care to tell how you came across that one? Is that a double entendre or is Spike Pratt as big a ladies man as I hear. Most of us are girls, so I just wanted to know a bit more about you if you care to divulge. Feel free to fill in the bio from the options on Account Info page.
Need any help or someone to chat to, you know my email :D.
Buffy

Buffy was surprised when she instantly got an email back.

From: Icame4Spike@hotmail.com
To: Im_a_Pratt@gmail.com
Buffy, love, what an interesting name. You’re a prat? Cause you’re not acting like one, sending a sweet lil’ email to an innocent new member. Don’t really think I’m interesting enough to warrant a bio so I’ll just say I love big red juicy steaks and blondes.
W aka Icame4Spike
Buffy was glued to the screen, rereading the lines, trying to figure out this character.

To: Icame4Spike@hotmail.com
From: Im_a_Pratt@gmail.com
What’s the W stand for, W?
Or are you like in Bond where they only have the one letter initial?
Buffy

To: Im_a_Pratt@gmail.com
From: Icame4Spike@hotmail.com
To Dear Buffy,
Yeah you are exactly right, but how’d you know I’m British when my IP says I’m in LA?
W

To: Icame4Spike@hotmail.com
From: Im_a_Pratt@gmail.com
To Mysterious W,
One of my little girls is crying, if you want to chat real time, pop into the C-Box on the front page of the site. Enjoy reading the latest updates!
Buffy

Buffy rushed into the girls’ bedroom and smoothed Tara’s hair away from her face.

“What’s wrong, baby? Have bad dreams again?”

Her darling little blonde head nodded and Buffy sighed. She scooped Tara up into one arm and managed to sleep walk Amy into the main bedroom. Buffy spent another night with her girls while the computer was left, the hard drive whirring as the updates and emails continued to flow into her inbox.


Chapter End Notes:
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